 It was a cool autumn night. The fire was warm on my face. The wind was cool on my back. The air was cool and crisp, as you could expect from the autumn season. My tent behind me held all the necessary supplies for my weekend camping near the Great Lakes in the northern United States. Supplies weren't an issue. Food wasn't an issue. However, firewood was. The blaze was fading from a raging fire to cold embers quickly. The wind started howling, nearly extinguishing the small flame that was left from my source of warmth and light. At this point, my fire was more smoke than flame. I watched the smoke rise into the air and cast a stark contrast between itself and the bright stars in the sky. I knew I would have to venture out to gather more firewood soon. I was so relaxed and really didn't want to get up, but I knew it must be done. So that's what I did. I stood up, brushed the dirt off my jeans, grabbed my torch from the tent and wandered into the darkness. I've always loved nature, particularly mountains and lakes. This made the Great Lakes seem like an ideal place for a vacation. Autumn is my favorite season, so that's when I decided to go. That September, I boarded a flight across the Atlantic. Eventually I landed in Chicago. I didn't stick around long. The whole city just felt gray. I bought a few supplies that I couldn't bring by plane and made my way up to my intended camping location in the Newberry State Park. It was a bit of a trip involving a bus and an Uber. I told the driver I'd see him in a week and set off into the State Park. It wasn't long until I made it to my camping lot. It was only a few kilometers from where I was dropped off and I enjoy hiking. I stopped, breathed in the fresh air and looked forward to my relaxing week surrounded by these massive lakes. This was my first time camping in this part of the world and I wanted to be sure to take in as much of the experience as I could. After this moment of contemplation, I slung my backpack off my shoulder and heard it hit the ground with a thud. I pulled my tent and stakes out from the bag. I'd set up a countless number of tents before. At this point it was basically second nature. I knew I had to set up my campfire now as the sun was already beginning to set on my first day. There would be time to explore tomorrow. The first night was cool, but not cold. The wind was calm, the air was fresh, and I was content. I snuggled up in my sleeping bag, found a comfortable place to lie, and began to try to drift asleep. I heard owls, I heard toads, I heard insects. It was all very calming. And then it hit me, an unexplainable sense of dread. While trying not to succumb to anxiety, the smell hit me. The fresh air was replaced with the smell of rot. It hung heavy in the air, but only momentarily before passing. I peeked outside. I could see well enough from the light of the embers from the once roaring fire. My campsite was clear. The smell, I assumed, was just a rotting animal, the stench carried by the wind. After all, wolves are common in this area. I eventually drifted to sleep. I woke up and everything that had happened the night before just felt like a vague dream. It wasn't going to stop me from enjoying the rest of my trip. Not like I could leave anyways, I didn't bring my cell phone as this was supposed to be a getaway. My Uber wouldn't be here until next Monday anyways, so I began my hike to Lake Michigan. The site was absolutely breathtaking. There was so much water, it seemed more like an ocean than a lake. Islands dotted the inside of the lake on the horizon, which only added to the illusion. There were ripples in the water where fish would come up to eat the insects that scuttled across the top of it. I ended up just taking in the sights and sketching for most of the day. However, eventually I had to head back to my campsite. This is what continued for most of the week with no strange occurrences. I had spent my nights at the campsite and during the day I would hike and absorb everything that this piece of land had to offer. I'd watch animals from a distance, including moose, eagles, and a couple wolves. I couldn't help but remember the smell of a rot that those same wolves probably caused near my site. Friday came along and I knew that soon my life would be back to normal. I'd be stuck in a boring job. My routine of camp then hike then relax would be replaced by work, go home, sleep, wake up, work. I didn't look forward to it at the time. Now I'm glad my life is back to normal. Night was beginning to approach. I had just made it back from my hike. I'd drawn an amazing sketch of a moose in the distance. I placed the sketch in my binder and began building a fire. The wind had been picking up gradually throughout the day and I knew it would be a cold night. By the golden light of sunset, I gathered up some hefty logs and branches. I brought them back to my camp and was overcome by that same sense of dread. I decided to ignore it. The fire was roaring and all seemed at peace. This is where my story begins. I was having trouble sleeping and it was the wee hours of night. The fire was dying. I had to get more wood. Once I got past the tree line, I had recalled that I'd collected most of the wood near my site throughout the week. So I ventured deeper. I had my torch to eliminate my path. So all felt well. I have a habit of keeping my torch shining in front of me instead of at the ground. And it was because of this that I kicked a rock causing me to stumble to the ground. I heard a crack. The dirt was cold and wet. When I looked up, I noticed I was surrounded by darkness, pitch black. I scrambled for the torch, hoping the fall just knocked the batteries loose. My hands come in contact with the object that had led to my fall. It was unusually smooth and was very light for a stone of its size. It had unnatural indentions in it. I held onto it, hoping to get a better look upon finding a clearing or my torch. Eventually, I'm able to find my torch in the darkness. I give it a quick shake. My heart sinks as I hear the rattling coming from inside of it. At that point, I knew that the bulb had busted. I was stuck in the dark with only the waning moon for light. I wait a few seconds to give my eyes time to adjust as the tall trees in their canopy of leaves above me were blocking most of the light. Eventually, my eyes do adjust and I make my way to a clearing I'd spotted in the distance. In the clearing, it was bright enough for me to see clearly when coupled with my eyes adjusting. I wanted to know what the object was. The first thing I noticed was the color. A light beige, there were cracks running through the top. As soon as I began to rotate it, I realized what it was and dropped it immediately. A skull, a human skull, those strange grooves were teeth and eye sockets. I felt sick, overcome by that same sense of dread. I dropped to my knees and began to vomit. Then it hits me, the smell of rot. The smell is stronger this time, like the fresh dead and blood. Is that the smell of blood? I recall thinking to myself. The smell is getting stronger, making me want to vomit again. But there's nothing left. I stand up and at the edge of the trees, I see it. It is tall and skinny, gray and red, antlers protrude from the creature's head. There is blood covering its whole body. Bare chunks of skin were missing and some of the skin was hanging like leather straps off of its body. Bone was visible under the stripped skin. Each of its hands had long fingers and even more frightening. Its fingernails were long and curved like the claws of the eagles I'd seen earlier. There was what looked like flesh hanging from the nails. It was dragging something, something long. It was a body, the body missing a head. Other than that, it was still whole. Maybe it was another camper. I was stunned and feared for my life at this moment. My body wouldn't move. I couldn't force it to move. I was feeling nauseous between the gruesome sight and the horrendous stench. I felt like feigning, but knew I would be dead if I did. I couldn't faint. At this moment, our eyes met. Its eyes had a slight glow to them, red. While my brain was still trying to comprehend this creature, it let out a horrendous roar. No, more like a scream. It sounded human, but also had the slight howl of a wolf. With the sound of that, my legs started to move on their own. I was running. I don't know where I was going, but I had to get away from there. As I ran, I built up the courage to look back. It was still there, lunging through the trees in massive strides. Its body was so thin. It seemed so weak, but it was so fast. As I moved through the forest, I could see more skulls and bones partially buried in the dirt. I didn't want to join them. At this point, fight or flight had taken over. I was ready to do both. I have a fair amount of knowledge on animals. I may not be able to do much, but maybe I could stun or weaken it. I made the decision to turn and fight. There was no way I was going to outrun it. There was no way I could win in a fight either, but I had to at least try to make more time for myself. While it was still running in the middle of a massive stride, I threw the busted flashlight at it as hard as I could. It connected. It hit the monster square in the face, causing its head to lurch backwards and the whole creature stumbled. As it was sliding, it moved to all fours and like some kind of demonic animal regained its stance in a matter of moments. It was only bipedal and now it's on all fours. I hear a low growl. It sounds more like an impersonation of a wolf than an actual wolf, almost like a human trying its best to sound like one of the forest's greatest hunters. It was at this time that I clearly saw its face. It looked almost human other than the exposed lower jawbone and the horn sprouting from its head. Lunged at me, trying to slash me with its massive bloody claws, I somehow caught the arm. It was about three feet long, which made it easier to grab onto. In that moment, I quickly went for the eyes in an attempt to blind it. If I could succeed, maybe it would be my chance to escape. The creature's head dropped, attempting to ram me with its vicious antlers. It connected. I felt those massive horns dig into my flesh and through my muscle. It was my chance, though. I made a fist and kept my thumb rigid and dug it into the massive glowing eye. The creature let out a horrible blood curdling scream, the kind of scream you only hear from someone who's facing death. The creature reeled back and I took that moment to run. I didn't look back until I made it back to the campsite. My chest was on fire, my lungs burning, my legs didn't want to move another inch. I vomited some more, mostly just dry heaves. There is nothing behind me. I noticed the air is crisp and fresh once more and I think I've made it. I wasn't about to stick around to find out, though. I grabbed the essentials, throwing them in my hiking bag and leaving. I made my way back to the ranger station I'd seen on the way in. By this time, I'd lost a lot of blood and felt sick, my vision beginning to blur. The rangers had left for the day, but there was a phone for emergencies. I used it to call the local law enforcement. Taking a seat, I waited, putting pressure on the largest of the multiple incisions and trying to stop them from bleeding. When the police arrived, they asked about my wounds. Of course, I can't tell them what actually happened, so I told them I was attacked by a wild moose. On the way to the hospital, I sketched the creature I saw. It will always be in my binder to remind me of why I can't take nature for granted. And the scars remind me to never return to the Great Lakes. That was five years ago, and I haven't gone camping since.