Butte Mountain: A Short Story

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We parked on a dirt patch in the middle of a small field, the trees surrounding us on all sides. The darkness was thick around us as we climbed out of the car. Looking up at the blinking beacon in the sky, I knew we had arrived. Recent rumors have been circling that hikers who climbs this hill will be stalked by the Shadow Man, the supposed guardian of Butte Mountain. I had never experienced paranormal activity before, and I figured that ‘the Shadow Man’ was just a hoax. It was just past midnight, and my friends and I decided to make the treacherous hike up Butte Mountain. It was a fairly steep hill, with multiple ridges that overlooked the city of Jackson. The six of us started to trudge up the arduous mountain, with only two flashlights…show more content…
Even if that woman did call the Sherriff’s Department, the cops probably have better things to do than go chase after unruly teenagers. And if it just so happens that they take the call, they can’t enter the private property themselves, unless they have a warrant. Trust me- nothing will happen.” Karly clarified for me.
As Karly explained the logistics of the situation, I felt my anxiety fade away. Her efforts to comfort me eventually succeeded, and we settled in for a long trek up Butte Mountain. We continued to climb, pacing ourselves as we hiked. The trees surrounded us on all sides, their towering height blocking any light from the stars above us. The confined sensation I had experienced earlier was beginning to return, but I continued on, figuring it was just in my head. I sighed a breath of relief when I saw the trees clearing up ahead. As we reached the first ridge, the steep hill leveled out into a flat landing. After taking a short break, Karly and I continued to the edge, and discovered an abandoned brick shack near the break of the cliff. It was overtaken by the branches of the trees surrounding it, and it looked as though no one had lived there for years, assuming someone had lived in it in the first place. Ignoring the eerie shack, we gazed in awe at the gorgeous city that was Jackson. As we admired the view of the hundreds of twinkling houses lit up against the pitch black sky, we heard a loud bang come from the supposedly abandoned
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“I did.” said Karly and Kenny simultaneously.
The rest of the group strained their heads to look through the trees, but by then the figure was gone. We continued to walk down the road with a sense of urgency, keeping our eyes ahead of us and trying to avoid another encounter with the enigmatic shape in the forest. By the time we passed the local’s house again, they were long gone. I remembered the man’s warning, and I decide then and there that I believe in the afterlife. I do not know if the white figure was ‘the Shadow Man’ per se, but I do believe that something on the mountain was preserving it and did not want us trespassing.
Several days passed after our venture on Butte Mountain, and I received a text from my friend Karly. She informed me about the Butte Mountain wildfire that started the day before. The cause of the fire was still unknown, but the fire had already consumed 71,000 acres of land. I cannot say if it was simply a coincidence that the fire started the week after we left, or if our intrusion had something to do with it. All I know is something on that mountain did not want us to
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