Camping Near Graveyard | Audio Horror Story

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Camping Near Graveyard

Last year I decided to go on a solo hike through Müritz National Park in Germany and it was one of those trips where I just wanted to get away from everything and walk through nature without thinking too much about where I was going. I brought my tent with me and planned to just head north and figure things out along the way. I didn’t really check for camping spots or look up any specific routes, which was probably not the best idea in hindsight, but I felt confident at the time and just wanted the freedom to wander.

As I walked deeper into the forest, the trees became denser and the sounds of the outside world slowly faded away. The path I was following became narrower and the sunlight began to fade behind the tall trees above me. It was peaceful in a strange way, but after several hours of walking, I realized it was starting to get dark and I should probably look for a place to set up my tent. I took out my phone to check Google Maps, hoping to find a nearby campsite or at least some open area where I could legally stay the night, but I quickly saw that I had no signal at all. I hadn’t thought about that happening, and it made me a little nervous to be in such a remote place without any reception.

I kept walking anyway, hoping I’d come across something useful before nightfall, and after about another thirty or forty minutes I saw something through the trees that looked like a small cluster of houses. As I got closer, I realized it was a tiny settlement right in the middle of the national park. There were only a handful of houses—maybe five in total—and right next to them was a small old chapel and a little cemetery that looked like it had been there for a long time.

The sun was setting quickly now and I knew I didn’t have much time left, so I walked over to one of the houses where I saw an old man sitting quietly in his garden. I greeted him politely and explained my situation—that I was hiking alone, had lost signal, and needed a place to sleep for the night. He looked at me for a moment, nodded slowly, and then pointed toward the meadow beside the cemetery. He said I could camp there if I wanted. I didn’t have any other options and he seemed sincere, so I thanked him, went to the meadow, and started setting up my tent as the last bit of sunlight faded from the sky.

The area was quiet. Too quiet, really. Once I was done setting up, I lay down inside my tent and tried to relax. It had been a long day and I was tired, but there was something about being right next to the cemetery that made me feel just a little uneasy. Still, I told myself it was nothing and eventually, I drifted off to sleep.

I don’t know how long I had been sleeping when I suddenly woke up in the middle of the night. It was one of those moments where you don’t know what woke you, but your body just reacts. I sat up and looked around, trying to adjust my eyes to the darkness. For a moment everything was silent and still, and I told myself I probably just had a strange dream and should go back to sleep. But just as I was about to lie back down, I heard it.

A child’s voice. Clear. Close. It whispered, “Hello. Who are you?”

My heart started pounding in my chest. I froze, not knowing if I was still dreaming or if someone was actually outside my tent. I stared into the darkness, holding my breath. I didn’t hear anything else for a few seconds, but then out of pure fear I whispered back, “I’ll be gone tomorrow. I promise.”

For a few seconds, everything stayed quiet again, and then I heard footsteps. Small ones. Running through the grass and moving away from the tent. I didn’t dare move. I didn’t open the tent. I just sat there, wide awake, trying to figure out what had just happened. Was it a child? Was someone playing a joke on me? Was I imagining things?

I stayed sitting up in my tent for probably an hour, listening to every little sound and feeling more awake than I had ever felt before. I thought about all the possible explanations—maybe there was another hiker nearby or some locals messing around—but nothing made sense. I was in a remote area. There were barely any houses. It was past midnight. Who would send a child out here at this hour? Eventually, my body gave in to exhaustion and I fell asleep without even realizing it.

The next morning, I woke up early and quickly packed up my tent. The sun was rising and everything looked normal in the light of day, but I still had that strange feeling in my chest. I needed to know more. Before leaving, I walked back to the garden where the old man was sitting again, just like the evening before. I approached him and asked if there were any children living in the settlement, trying to keep my voice calm. He looked at me with a bit of confusion on his face, then seemed to think for a moment.

Then he said something that gave me chills I will never forget. He told me the last child who lived there had died over fifty years ago. The boy had drowned in a nearby lake and was buried in the cemetery. The same cemetery I had camped beside the night before.

I didn’t say much after that. I thanked him again for his help and started walking out of the settlement, this time sticking to the trail and heading straight back the way I came. The forest didn’t feel peaceful anymore. It felt different, like it had eyes. I kept thinking about that voice in the night and how it sounded so real. So close. The words kept echoing in my head. “Hello. Who are you?”

I still don’t know what happened that night. Maybe I was dreaming. Maybe I imagined it. But the footsteps were real. I heard them. And the old man’s words stayed with me. I didn’t make the story up. I didn’t want it to happen. I wasn’t looking for something scary. I just wanted to hike. I just wanted peace. But that night gave me something else.

It’s hard to explain to people who weren’t there. Some believe me. Some don’t. But I know what I heard. And I know how I felt. That kind of fear doesn’t come from nothing. It comes from something you can’t explain. Something you don’t understand.

Since that night, I’ve been more careful about where I camp. I check for reception. I plan ahead. And I never set up a tent near a cemetery if I can help it. That trip was supposed to be about freedom and nature. It ended up being the creepiest experience of my life. One I’ll never forget. No matter how many hikes I take. No matter how much time passes. That whisper will always be there in the back of my mind.