Sorry if this is a bit rough, it’s my first time posting something like this. What I’m about to share is a true incident that happened to me back in 2016. I was 19 and had just started university in Worcester (UK). Even now, I still don’t really know what I saw. All I know is that it scared me badly, and I still get nightmares about it. I was visiting a place called Malvern, a small town on the edge of Worcestershire. It’s only about a 25–30 minute drive from where I was living, and it’s known for its big hills and fresh spring water. A nice place for a walk, normally. Five of my friends came with me. Our plan was to watch the sunset from the top of the Beacon, the highest point. Everything was normal at first. We stopped at a pub on the way (I think it was The Chase Inn), and we ended up talking to this older guy. He told us a story about a student who supposedly got “cursed” for going up the hills on Halloween years ago. I wasn’t really paying attention because I was demolishing my chips, but I do remember him warning us to “watch out for the evil things on the hill.”
Looking back… maybe I should have listened.
Anyway, we carried on. About halfway up, we realised we’d completely misjudged the time. The sun was already setting, so we rushed up the path. On the way, my friend I’ll call him Lewis, tripped and rolled his ankle pretty badly. We stopped and got him to a bench about 50 metres up. He told the rest of the group to go on without him, But I stayed behind with him while the other four carried on to the top.
At this point, nothing weird had happened at all. But after a while, we realised the others had been gone for more than two hours, and it was already dark. Lewis said he could manage to walk, so we decided to go up the rest of the way to find them. When we got to the Beacon, the top was completely empty. Not a single person. We tried calling our friends, but of course, no signal. So we started heading down the other side of the hill, thinking they must have gone that way. Surely we would’ve seen them if they’d come down the same path as us.
About five minutes down that side, the atmosphere changed completely. It got darker, quieter, and honestly just… wrong. The only sound was the crunch of rocks under our feet. The forest on that side was really dense, so our phone torches were the only light we had. We kept walking, but I was terrified. It genuinely felt like a scene from a horror film like someone was about to burst out of the trees with an axe. Eventually, we reached a point where the path split. There was still no sound at all. No wind, no birds, nothing.
And then we saw it.
Behind a tree, there was this tall, thin, white-looking… thing. Long arms, long fingers, long legs. The body was unnaturally skinny. And the worst part it had no head. Nothing where a head should be. We just froze. It stepped out slightly from behind the tree, and that’s when the smell hit us , this horrible stench like rotten eggs and vomit.
As soon as we smelled it, it was like we snapped out of shock. We just ran. I didn’t even think, we just sprinted down the path. When we glanced back, it was standing there, facing the direction we were running.
Somehow, despite Lewis’s ankle, which we later found out was actually fractured. he managed to run all the way to the station with me. We got back to the university halls safe, but shaken.
Our other friends swear they didn’t see anything up there. I still don’t know if it was something real, a shadow, a trick of the light, or something else entirely. A small part of me wonders if that old man knew something. I honestly hope it was just my brain playing tricks on me, because it genuinely scarred me.
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