Now I tell you there's places deep in them woods
where the quiet don't feel peaceful It feels
like it's listening like the trees themselves
got ears and something just out of sights watching
your every step back in 2012 a woman named Linda
Artega got turned around in the Ozark Mountains
Gone missing for five whole days. She come out
barefoot scratched up shivering But alive. What
she said happened out yonder. What she claimed
was watching her from the shadows. Well, now
that's stuck with folks ever since. Some reckon
it was just the heat messing with her head. Others
say it was something older. Something that don't
belong to this world. Just standing there in
the dark, waiting. This here's the bone -chilling
true tale of Linda Artega. and the silent watchers
of the Ozarks. Welcome to Kentucky Melodies America's
Scariest Stories, where we bring you ghostly
legends, spooky haints, and bone -chilling tales
from all over this great land. These stories
will have you looking over your shoulder all
night. So pull up a chair, dim them lights, and
let's dive into the eerie and unexplained. It
was the early part of September back in 2012,
and Miss Linda Artega, 53 years old and living
in Blackwell, Oklahoma, sure wasn't looking to
wind up in no newspaper or be the kind of name
whispered round a fire pit. All she wanted was
a little peace, you know? Just some quiet time
out in God's green earth with her brother, Eddie
Huff. They'd set their sights on a hike near
a place called St. Joe, Arkansas, tucked way
back in the Ozarks, where the hills roll like
the backs of sleeping giants and the forest grows
so thick it feels like the trees lean in to listen.
Now, them Ozark mountains, they ain't like your
local park with clear signs and neatly trimmed
paths. Nah, this here's deep country. Rough land
full of gullies and drop offs, old animal trails
that fool you, and hollers that echo your own
voice back at you like the woods is trying to
mock you. The ridges twist and turn, and the
hollers run so deep you'd swear they got no bottom.
Folks have gone missing out there before, and
more than a few of them. Well, they just never
did come back. Linda and Eddie weren't no strangers
to the outdoors. They'd spent time in nature
before, sure, but they weren't trained survivalists
neither. They'd figured they'd take a stroll
down one of them trails, breathe in some of that
crisp mountain air, maybe be back in time to
catch supper. Just a simple little adventure
between kin. But the thing about them mountains
is, they don't much care what you planned. Out
there all it takes is one wrong step. One turn
down the wrong deer trail one moment of thinking
you know better than the trees and before you
know it the forest just closes in Swallows you
up like you was never there and That's just what
happened to Linda and Eddie By the time the Sun
had started leaning low in the sky Linda and
Eddie come to the quiet realization that they
was off trail Good and lost, in fact. Every direction
they looked it was just trees and more trees,
thick as thieves and standing shoulder to shoulder
like they was hiding something. There weren't
no signs, no blazons on the trees, no worn path
to follow. It was like the woods had folded in
on itself, swallowed the trail whole and left
nothing behind but shadows and silence. They
kept on walking. hoping maybe they'd make a loop
back around to something familiar. But that forest,
it played tricks. Every tree looked like the
one before it. The ridges all sloped the wrong
way. No matter which way they turned, it felt
like they was being gently pushed deeper in.
Not by hands, mind you, but by the woods itself.
Then the sun dropped behind them hills like it
was in a hurry. and with it went any sense of
direction they had left. The light faded fast
out there, faster than it does in town, and pretty
soon they was standing in that dusky dark with
the kind of stillness that presses on your ears.
That first night they had no choice but to hunker
down on the bare ground, wrapped in nothing but
their own clothes and uncertainty. It got cold.
the kind of cold that creeps in through your
boots and settles in your bones. No tent, no
fire, no flashlight, just the sound of the crickets
cutting off all at once now and then, like something
was passing through the trees nearby. They weren't
just lost out there. They were alone, deep in
a place that felt different than any woods they'd
ever stepped in before, like the air was thicker.
like the ground itself was watching, like something
ancient had turned its gaze their way and didn't
intend on looking away. Come the second day,
after another long night of staring up at the
black sky and wondering if they'd ever find their
way out, Linda and Eddie figured they'd cover
more ground if they split up a little. Not far.
Just enough to scan the hills and hollers for
a trail, a creek, a worn path, anything that
didn't look like the same tangled mess they'd
been wandering through. That's when Linda started
feeling it. Said the air changed on her, got
heavier somehow, like it was harder to breathe,
like the woods themselves were holding their
breath. She was making her way around a bend
in the ridge when she stopped dead in her tracks.
There, standing in the trees just ahead was a
figure, tall and still, not moving, not saying
a word, just standing there between the trunks
like it belonged to the forest. At first, she
figured it was a hiker, maybe even someone out
looking for him, a ranger or a local, but something
about it wasn't right. She hollered out, called
for help, waved her arms, And it didn't move,
didn't shift, didn't answer, didn't even twitch
like it had hurt her. Just stood there like it
was carved out of the shadows. Then she noticed
another one, standing a few trees off. And another
a little ways past that. All of them spread out
in a strange kind of pattern, like they was placed
there. She said they wasn't solid folks, not
exactly, just. Dark shapes, darker than the trees
behind them, almost like they was made out of
smoke or mist, but darker still. No face, no
color, no detail, just watching. That stare went
down her spine like ice water. She turned to
yell for Eddie, but when she spun back around,
they was gone, just the trees again and that
heavy listening silence. Now that same day while
Linda was seeing things that shouldn't have been
there Eddie had his own kind of strange spell
come over him He was making his way through a
low hollow when he caught sight of something
just up ahead Something that made his heart near
jump out of his chest There was a house sitting
quiet and a little clearing playing his day with
an old wooden porch sagging a bit to one side
And right there, rocking, gentle on a swing,
was Linda. She was smiling at him like nothing
had ever gone wrong, just sitting there, peaceful
as a Sunday morning. Eddie took off running,
shouting her name, boots slapping the ground
as fast as he could move. But the closer he got,
the more things didn't feel right. And by the
time he reached that clearing, There wasn't nothing
there, no house, no swing, no Linda, just trees
and shadows like the woods was playing some cruel
trick on his mind. Later on, Eddie would say
he must have been seeing things, likely from
eating them bitter wild berries they'd found
early on. Might have been poison in them or something
close to it. He was sure his sister had found
her way out. and he convinced himself she was
safe somewhere. So he kept wandering, thinking
he was just trying to find a road. But Linda
hadn't made it out. They'd gotten separated in
all that thick timber, and only one of them had
stumbled their way back. Eddie came out dazed,
barely able to speak, worn down from thirst and
confusion. Linda, though, Linda was still out
there. and she'd remain missing for three more
long days. After they pulled her out of them
woods and got her some water and warmth, Linda
finally started talking. Not all at once, mind
you, but in bits and pieces. Mostly to her kin
at first. And what she said chilled them deeper
than the cold nights she'd spent out there. She
told them how she'd stayed alive drinking from
creeks. Chewing on watercress and nuts she'd
scrounged up and nibbling more of them bitter
berries, the same ones Eddie reckoned had messed
with his mind. Said her stomach hurt near constant,
but hunger was the least of her worries. Because
it wasn't just the cold or the ache in her bones
that haunted her out there. Them figures, they
come back. She said, as soon as the sun dipped
behind them hills and the dark came stretching
in across the trees, they'd be there. Tall shapes,
lean and still, just barely lit at the edges
of the little fire she tried to keep going, if
she could even get one started. They never walked
up, never said a word, just stood there, right
where the shadows get thickest, like they was
part of the trees themselves. Sometimes she'd
feel them before she saw them, like a shift in
the air or a tingling on the back of her neck.
She'd spin around quick, sure someone was there,
but all she'd catch was movement slipping behind
a trunk always just out of reach. They didn't
answer when she hollered, didn't move when she
cried, didn't even flinch when she sang hymns
loud into the night. Begging for mercy or company
or something to drown out the silence. But they
stayed, night after night, watching. Not like
a person watching another person. No. Linda said
it felt more like the woods themselves had eyes.
And those things were just the shape the forest
took when it decided to look back. And no matter
what she did, they never left. Hoods like they'd
built walls round her she couldn't see. She was
barefoot, feet cut up from briars and sharp rock.
Her skin was red and raw from the sun, arms covered
in scratches like she'd clawed her way through
thickets. But all told, she was in better shape
than anyone expected. No broken bones, no frostbite,
just worn down and quiet. And that's what struck
folks most. She wasn't screaming or crying when
they found her, wasn't panicked, wasn't even
asking for much, just water and a moment to sit.
Said she was grateful, said she prayed every
night, called on the Lord to keep her from being
alone, and that somehow she knew she wasn't.
But when it come to the rest of it, the shadows,
the things that stood just out of reach, she
didn't say much, not to the newspapers, not to
the TV cameras, not even to most of the folks
who asked. She'd shake her head, change the subject,
or look off like she was watching something move
in the trees behind you. Her family now, they
heard more, enough to believe there was something
out there with her. They've spoken up in bits
here and there, saying she saw things no one
should ever see, and that she came out changed
somehow. But the whole truth, that's hers. and
she ain't letting go of it. Now folks will argue
about what really happened to Linda. Maybe it
was the berries. Maybe the heat and thirst twisted
up her mind made her see things that weren't
there. That's what science might tell you. But
if you sit a spell with the old timers from around
these parts, the ones who still remember the
old ways, who've heard whispers passed down from
their grand folks, They'll tell you plain as
day. There's places in them woods that don't
take kindly to strangers, and if the forest don't
want you there, it'll let you know. Might not
speak a word, but it'll sure as hell watch. See,
in the stories of the Cherokee, the Shawnee,
and others who lived on this land long before
any settler set foot here, there's talk of spirits
that roamed the forest. Some are guardians, keepers
of balance, but others, others just watch. They
don't chase, they don't guide, they don't offer
no comfort. They just stand there in the dark,
quiet as death, staring from the trees with eyes
you can't quite see, but you feel them all the
same. Folks call them the watchers. Sometimes
they show up to warn. Other times, no one ever
figures out what they wanted, just that they
were there. And Linda, she didn't come back talking
about no wild man, no monster covered in hair,
no fella lost in the woods like her. What she
saw was something else, something older, something
colder, and she ain't the first to see it, not
by a long shot. Linda Artega made it out of them
woods after five long bone -cold days, her body
held up, battered but intact. But what she carried
out in her mind, and down in her soul, well,
that part ain't so easy to mend. She went in
with her brother, they walked the same trail,
breathed the same air, heard the same night sounds,
but only Linda saw them. Only she felt their
eyes quiet and steady, pressing down on her from
the dark. And maybe, just maybe, they're still
out there. Still standing silent at the edge
of some lost traveler's sight, waiting for the
sun to go down, waiting for the fear to set in,
watching, always watching. Now, I gotta ask y
'all something. What do you reckon Linda saw
out there in them woods? You ever had a moment
in the forest where the hairs on your neck stood
up and you just knew? Something was watching?
You believe in spirits? Forest guardians? Or
maybe something older? Something that don't take
kindly to being seen? We want to hear it. Your
stories, your thoughts, your theories. Drop us
a comment down below or send us a message over
on the Kentucky Melody website or one of our
socials. We love hearing from folks who've felt
the woods looking back. If you enjoyed this story,
hit that like button and share it with a friend
who loves creepy forest tales. Don't forget to
subscribe for more stories of the strange and
unexplained. Until next time, keep your eyes
open in them woods. You never know what's watching
from the trees.