The man’s name was Alexei Morozov, a seasoned camper and survivalist from central Russia who had explored some of the harshest terrains in Europe. With his loyal German shepherd, Kuchum, by his side, he ventured deep into a remote forest region known for its isolation and folklore. Alexei had planned a quiet three-day retreat, far from people, cities, and distractions. But on the second night, just after midnight, he heard soft, deliberate footsteps crunching the leaves just outside his tent. At first, he assumed it might be a wild animal, but the cadence was too human. Grabbing a flashlight, he quietly unzipped the tent-only for Kuchum to suddenly growl, then sprint off into the trees without warning. For hours, Alexei called for him in the dark, only to be met with silence and the rustle of leaves.
At dawn, determined to find Kuchum, he hiked deeper into the forest and stumbled upon a disturbing scene: crudely built wooden traps, bone ornaments tied with string, and strange symbols etched into tree trunks. The place felt wrong. With no other choice, he returned to his tent and waited, exhausted. But that night, the forest turned hostile. Low whispers echoed from the trees, and without warning, makeshift arrows -crudely carved and jagged-began to rain down on his campsite. He dove behind a tree, barely avoiding the volleys. At some point near dawn, the attacks stopped. Bloodied, shaking, and terrified, he packed what he could. Just as he was about to leave, Kuchum emerged from the brush, whimpering but alive. Without hesitation, Alexei left the forest behind-and has refused to camp alone ever since.
