Daniel thought a weekend in the woods might heal the tension between him and his son, Caleb. However, after a fierce argument, Caleb storms off into the wilderness — and doesn’t come back. As night takes over, Daniel searches the eerie forest, only to find footsteps that vanish abruptly…
It had been more than a month since I last saw my son Caleb. Far too long. But he and Megan had moved to a different city, all the way across the state.
A man driving a car | Source: Pexels
Every mile toward my ex-wife’s home was a stark reminder of the growing distance between us.
Back then, weekends were filled with lively conversations and bags stuffed with his beloved action figure, an excess of snacks, and a flashlight that rarely saw use.
Now, the quiet between us felt almost alive.
A troubled man frowning | Source: Midjourney
The streets winding up to Megan’s new home felt unfamiliar, lined with identical houses, white picket fences, and manicured lawns. It was a far cry from the place we used to call home.
As I parked in her driveway, a wave of unease hit me when I spotted Evan’s car. Of course, he was here. His practical hybrid was parked beside Megan’s SUV, as if it had always been meant to be there. Maybe it had, now.
Megan opened the door, her face carefully controlled. “Hi, Daniel. Caleb will be down in a minute.”
Seeing her again made my chest tighten. “Okay. Uh… how have you been?”
A woman standing in an entrance hall | Source: Midjourney
Megan bit her lower lip, seeming to mull over her response. Just then, Evan appeared, dusting flour off his hands with a dish towel.
“Hey! You’ve got to be Daniel. Nice to meet you. Want a cookie? The first batch just came out of the oven.”
He wasn’t striking or imposing—just solid. The type who never forgot to pick up milk and, evidently, spent Saturdays baking cookies.
A smiling man wearing an apron | Source: Midjourney
He offered his hand, and I paused for a moment before shaking it. He was so polite, yet I couldn’t shake the resentment I felt.
“Oh, I’m sure Daniel’s eager to head out,” Megan interjected, stepping away from the door and distancing herself from me as she called out for Caleb.
When Caleb finally emerged, he was taller than I remembered. His posture was rigid, his face unreadable.
A sulky teen boy | Source: Midjourney
“Hey, Dad,” he muttered, his tone devoid of warmth.
Megan passed me his pre-packed bag, like she’d been silently tracking the seconds until I was gone.
“There are extra socks in the side pocket,” she said. “And his allergy meds, just in case.”
As if I could forget my own son’s allergies.
“Appreciate it.” I took the bag. “Guess we’ll get going then.”
A person holding a backpack | Source: Pexels
Megan wrapped Caleb in a hug before we headed to the car. As we drove off, I caught a glimpse of Evan standing behind her in the rearview mirror, his hand resting casually on her lower back.
My jaw clenched. A part of me still couldn’t wrap my head around the fact that she had moved on. Sure, the divorce had been finalized months ago, and she’d relocated Caleb across the state for a job opportunity soon after, but… it all seemed to happen so quickly.
I couldn’t shake the thought that maybe we could’ve fixed things, that we could’ve been a family again if only she’d been willing to stay in one place with me for just a little while.
A man glancing to one side | Source: Midjourney
The drive to the campsite dragged on painfully. Every effort at conversation fell flat.
“How’s school?”
“Good.”
“And soccer?”
“Good.”
“Your friends?”
“Good.”
I stole glances at him, this unfamiliar boy with my son’s face. He’d changed so much over the past year—his jawline more defined, the last traces of childhood fading. My nose, Megan’s eyes. When had he started looking so grown up?
Close up of a teen boy’s face | Source: Midjourney
“Alright then. Glad to hear everything’s good,” I said, trying to sound casual. “How’s, uh, everything with Evan?”
Caleb stiffened next to me. “He’s fine. He helps me with math.”
My stomach churned, but I kept my voice steady. “That’s good.”
He shot me a look, like he could hear every thought running through my head. “He’s not that bad.”
I let out a forced laugh. “That’s quite the glowing endorsement.”
“At least he’s there,” Caleb muttered, so softly I almost didn’t catch it.
An emotional teen boy | Source: Midjourney
“You know I’m doing my best, bud. With the distance, work… it would help if you’d talk to me for more than a few minutes when I call, or at least respond to my texts.”
He rolled his eyes, then shoved his earbuds in. Conversation over. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel and kept driving.
The road had long since turned to dirt, winding deeper into the forest, where the trees closed in tighter with every mile. The air thickened with the scent of earth and moss — it smelled old, like a place that time had left behind.
A dirt road through a forest | Source: Pexels
Shadows stretched across the dashboard as the sun sank lower. I pulled over near a rugged trail I’d researched online. No fire pits. No amenities. Just untouched wilderness.
“This is it?” Caleb asked, clearly unimpressed.
“This is it. Real camping, like we used to. You know, they say this land is some of the oldest on Earth?”
Caleb snorted. “We used to camp in state parks. With bathrooms.”
I let the comment slide and started unloading. The tent was brand new—a splurge for this trip. The old Coleman had gone to Megan in the divorce, along with most of our camping gear. Along with nearly everything else.
Backpacks and camping supplies leaning against a car | Source: Pexels
While I set up camp, Caleb aimlessly kicked rocks, showing no interest. The tent poles clicked together with satisfying snaps, my hands moving with ease despite the years since I’d last done this. I tried bringing up some old family camping memories, hoping to stir up some nostalgia.
“Remember when we saw those baby raccoons? It must’ve been four or five years ago.”
Caleb shrugged. “Kind of.”
“Your mom was so worried they’d get into the cooler, but you wanted to leave them hot dogs.”
“Yeah.”
A teen boy glaring at someone | Source: Midjourney
“You ever camp around here with your mom?” I hesitated. “With Evan?”
He shrugged again. “Nope. But some kids at school say people vanish out here. Like, gone for good.”
I chuckled. “Let me guess—Bigfoot’s the culprit?”
A smirk pulled at his lips. “More like… things that sound human but aren’t.” Then he waved it off. “I dunno. They’re probably just messing around.”
“Figures. So, you gonna help me with this?”
A man pitching a tent | Source: Pexels
Caleb let out a heavy sigh, sulking as he tried to help in the most half-hearted way a 13-year-old could manage. Eventually, the tent stood tall, a blue dome against the darkening sky.
“Here,” I said, tossing the sleeping bags his way. They hit him in the chest, one after the other, instead of landing in his hands.
“What the hell, Dad?” Caleb snapped.
“Hey, watch your language!” I scolded. “Lay out the sleeping bags, and I’ll get the fire going.”
Caleb sniffed and muttered something under his breath that made my blood boil.
An emotional teen boy | Source: Midjourney
“…don’t actually care about me, just hauled me into the woods to order me around.”
“What was that?” I spun to face him. “I brought you here to spend time together. Why are you acting like this?”
“You wouldn’t get it,” he muttered.
“You could at least try,” I shot back. “I’m your dad—”
He scoffed. “Yeah. When it suits you.”
That hit like a punch to the gut.
A man staring with wide eyes | Source: Midjourney
“You weren’t even around before the divorce!” His voice grew louder. “You always had something more important to do. Now, suddenly, I’m supposed to matter?”
“That’s not fair,” I protested, stumbling over my words. “I was working to provide—”
“Provide what? You weren’t there! Not for my games, not for school events, not for anything!” He kicked at the tent pole, making the entire structure shake. “And now you buy a fancy tent and think everything’s going to be fine?”
An emotional teen boy yelling | Source: Midjourney
He shook his head, eyes flashing with anger and pain. “I don’t even know where I belong anymore. Mom’s got her new life with Evan. You’ve got… whatever this is. Where am I supposed to go?”
Before I could say anything, he turned and stormed off into the trees.
I told myself to let him cool down. He’d be back. But as the sun set and the shadows grew longer, doubt started to creep in.
Sunlight shining through trees in a forest | Source: Pexels
The firelight flickered, casting a warm glow that only reached so far. Beyond it, the woods were swallowed by darkness, the trees barely visible against the deeper blackness. The silence was unsettling, like the forest itself was listening… waiting.
“Caleb?” I called out, stepping to the edge of the woods, my voice cutting through the stillness. “Caleb!”
A pause, then my voice echoed back. “Caleb…”
I froze. It was just an echo, I told myself. But something about it felt off. The tone was wrong, like someone trying to imitate speech without truly understanding the words.
A man staring into the forest | Source: Midjourney
I grabbed my flashlight and ventured into the trees. The beam revealed snippets of the forest: mossy trunks, clusters of ferns, the occasional glint of eyes near the ground—likely raccoons or deer.
I followed Caleb’s footprints until they suddenly ended. No sign of a turn, no hint of where he went. I called out again, but all I heard was the strange echo of my own voice.
The trees here were ancient, their branches so densely intertwined above that they swallowed up the sky. The air felt thick, pressing in from every side.
A forest during twilight | Source: Pexels
The air was still. No wind rustled the leaves, no birds called out. Only the distant drip of water and the occasional groan of shifting wood broke the silence.
Ahead, a shape loomed between the trees. Too tall. Too still.
My heart pounded in my chest. “Caleb?”
“Caleb,” my echo answered. “Caleb?”
The flashlight flickered in my hand. The shape remained motionless, watching as I cautiously moved closer.
A man staring apprehensively in a forest | Source: Midjourney
It was just a twisted tree. A wave of relief washed over me, but the unease still clung to my skin.
Then I heard Caleb’s voice, and without thinking, I ran toward it.
I almost stepped right into the gully. It opened up just beyond the tree line, a steep drop hidden beneath fallen leaves and ferns.
My flashlight beam landed on Caleb at the bottom, half-buried in dirt. His face was pale, his eyes wide with fear.
“Dad, help!”
A teen boy calling out to someone | Source: Midjourney
I slid down without thinking. The ground gave way beneath my boots, sending me tumbling, and I landed hard, my hands scraping against the damp rock.
“Are you hurt?”
He shook his head, but his eyes darted nervously to the darkness beyond. “I’m okay, Dad, but… I don’t think we’re alone down here.”
My heart raced. “What do you mean?”
A frightened man speaking to someone | Source: Midjourney
“Something chased me in the woods. I heard… I heard you calling me, but it wasn’t you. All those stories the kids told me at school… I think they’re real.”
“Calm down. I was calling you. The echoes here are just… strange.”
The gully was deeper than I’d realized. The walls rose high, the trees above creating a jagged black crown against the night sky. Something shifted nearby. I swung my flashlight around, and the beam landed on a shape a few yards away.
Caleb let out a nervous laugh.
“It’s just a deer.”
A deer in the forest | Source: Midjourney
The deer took a slow step forward, its legs moving in a way that didn’t seem quite right. Each joint bent like a puppet being controlled by clumsy hands.
“Dad…” Caleb’s voice faltered. “Look at how it’s moving. Maybe it’s injured?”
I raised the flashlight slightly. The deer’s eyes didn’t reflect the light like they should. Instead, they seemed to pull the light in, swallowing it whole. An icy chill crawled up my spine, and my chest tightened.
I forced my voice to stay calm. “Come on. If it’s hurt, we shouldn’t get too close. It could have rabies. We need to get out of here.”
A terrified man in a forest | Source: Midjourney
He paused, then nodded.
We scrambled out of the gully. Neither of us dared to look back. The sound that followed wasn’t hooves on leaves—it was the wet thud of something soft dragging itself across the ground.
We both broke into a run. The noise grew louder, faster, crashing through the underbrush behind us as we sprinted.
The campfire’s glow grew nearer through the trees, but just as we caught sight of the site, Caleb shouted, “Dad!”
A man staring back fearfully | Source: Midjourney
I turned around. Caleb was clutching his ankle, grimacing in pain, and that sickly sound was growing louder.
Without thinking, I threw Caleb over my shoulder and ran toward the fire. I didn’t know what was dragging itself through the woods after us, but I knew one thing for sure—if I found out, it would be the last thing I ever did.
We collapsed by the fire. I grabbed one of the logs I’d gathered earlier and spun around, holding it in front of me like a weapon, ready to face whatever was coming.
A man holding a log facing a dark forest | Source: Midjourney
There was nothing there. Even the sound had stopped. I stood still for a few more minutes, just to make sure it was safe, and then I added a log to the fire and crouched down beside Caleb.
Caleb had pulled his knees to his chest. He looked suddenly younger. Smaller. I started tending to his ankle, and we both sat in silence for a long time.
Finally, he muttered, “I didn’t mean what I said before.”
I shook my head as I rummaged through the first aid kit. “Yeah, you did. And you were right.”
A first aid kit on a bag in a campsite | Source: Pexels
He sighed. “I just don’t know where I fit anymore. Everything’s changed.”
My throat tightened, and I exhaled, running a hand over my face. “You fit here. With me. Even when things are falling apart. Even when I mess up.”
He glanced at me, skepticism in his eyes. “Even if we don’t see each other much?”
“Even then. Look, I know I haven’t been… the dad you deserve. But I want to do better. I want to be here. Please, just… let me.”
A small, quiet understanding passed between us. He leaned lightly against my side, and we both gazed into the crackling campfire.
A campfire | Source: Pexels
“That thing in the woods,” he said quietly after a moment. “What do you think it was?”
“I… don’t know. Maybe a sick deer. But we’re safe here, by the fire.”
We crawled into the tent shortly after. Caleb fell asleep first. I watched him for a while, feeling a connection with him I hadn’t felt in a long time.
His face was softer while he slept, more innocent. I could still see glimpses of the little boy who used to curl up in my lap during storms, the one who thought his dad could fix everything.
A teen boy sleeping | Source: Midjourney
Maybe things weren’t perfect, but this felt like a beginning. Tomorrow we’d return home, back to our tangled lives and custody arrangements, but something had changed tonight — some tiny mending in the fragile connection between father and son.
In the darkness beyond the fire, the sharp bark of a deer echoed.
