19 Feb The Party at Hollow Ridge — A CTFDN Choose-Your-Own Adventure Story

Posted at 11:00h in Choose-Your-Own-Adventure, Monsters, Creatures, and Cryptids, Nature and the Outdoors, Psychological Horror, Sounds and Voices, Strange and Unexplained, Survival Horror, Suspense and Thrillers by CreepypastaStories.com 0 Comments

📅 Published on February 19, 2025

“The Party at Hollow Ridge — A CTFDN Choose-Your-Own Adventure Story”

Written by Craig Groshek and the CTFDN Audience
Edited by Craig Groshek
Thumbnail Art by Craig Groshek
Narrated by N/A

Copyright Statement: Unless explicitly stated, all stories published on CreepypastaStories.com are the property of (and under copyright to) their respective authors, and may not be narrated or performed, adapted to film, television or audio mediums, republished in a print or electronic book, reposted on any other website, blog, or online platform, or otherwise monetized without the express written consent of its author(s).

🎧 Available Audio Adaptations: None Available

⏰ ESTIMATED READING TIME — 13 minutes

Rating: 10.00/10. From 1 vote.

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(Last Updated: Thursday, March 4, 2025)
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CHAPTER ONE: THE PARTY IN THE WOODS

“Don’t just stand there—come on!”

Your friend Emily waves at you from the center of the backyard, her face illuminated by the flickering light of a bonfire. Around her, the sounds of laughter and music fill the air as the party kicks into full swing. The night is young, and the woods surrounding this isolated farmhouse are deep and dark, far from the nearest town. You’ve never been this far out, and while the fresh air feels nice, there’s a strange stillness to the place.

You glance over at the woods again, the treeline looming just beyond the yard, barely visible in the flickering firelight. The leaves rustle in the gentle breeze, but there’s something about the way the night feels. Something feels… off.

“Are you coming or not?” Emily calls, a drink in hand, pulling you back to the present. You shake off the unease and head toward her, joining the group of people near the fire. The music is louder here, the chatter of your friends filling the air. It seems like a typical party—nothing out of the ordinary—but something about the place doesn’t sit right with you. The house, with its peeling paint and weathered wood, feels older than it should. And the woods—those dark woods—they feel… watchful.

As you settle into the group, someone throws another log on the fire, sending a burst of sparks into the air. You laugh, grabbing a drink from the cooler nearby, trying to push away the strange feeling creeping over you.

Suddenly, a sharp, unsettling sound cuts through the noise—a low, distant thud, like something heavy being dropped. You freeze for a moment, your senses sharpening. It comes again, this time followed by a faint scratching sound, like claws scraping against bark.

You glance toward the woods, your heart racing just a little faster. No one else seems to have noticed, as they continue chatting, oblivious to the noise. But your stomach tightens. What was that?

Before you can react, Emily nudges you. “Did you hear that?” she asks, her voice low, glancing nervously over her shoulder toward the trees.

You nod slowly. “Yeah. What was that?”

“I don’t know,” she says, her eyes wide. “I thought I saw something move…”

The sounds come again—closer this time. Thud. Scrape. Thud. Scrape.

You turn back to your friends. They’re still laughing, unaware of the growing tension. A part of you wants to tell them, to make them take this seriously. But the other part of you wants to ignore it, to stay with the group and pretend nothing’s wrong.

Emily’s grip tightens on your arm. “Maybe we should go inside. I don’t like this.”

You both stand there for a moment, frozen. The scratching sound comes again, much louder now, and you swear you hear a low growl mixed in. This time, it’s not the wind.

Your mind races. What should you do? The group is distracted. The party’s still going strong, but the woods are pulling at you, the sounds becoming more distinct and unsettling.

You look over at Emily. She’s waiting for you to decide.

CHAPTER TWO: SOMETHING’S OUT THERE

You take a deep breath, trying to steady the creeping unease twisting in your gut. The scratching, the thudding—it’s not just the wind, and it’s not your imagination. It’s real. Something is out there.

Emily is still gripping your arm, her eyes darting between you and the tree line. You can feel her tension, and that’s what pushes you to act.

You turn toward the bonfire, raising your voice over the music. “Hey! Did anyone else hear that?”

A few heads turn, but the reaction is sluggish. Someone chuckles. A guy—Tyler, maybe—leans back in his chair, beer in hand, grinning. “Hear what? The sound of you killing the vibe?”

Laughter ripples through the group, but Emily isn’t laughing. “No, seriously,” she says, stepping closer to the fire. “Something’s in the woods. We both heard it.”

That gets a few more reactions. People exchange glances, some shifting uneasily. Someone—Ava, one of Emily’s friends—wrinkles her nose. “It’s probably just an animal,” she says. “We’re in the middle of nowhere. Of course there’s something in the woods.”

“I don’t know,” you say, standing firm. You hesitate, then glance at Emily for backup. “It sounded… like it was moving toward us.”

That earns some silence. A few people shift, looking toward the trees. The fire crackles, the music hums from a speaker sitting on a folding table, but the mood has definitely changed.

“You’re serious?” someone asks.

You nod.

Tyler rolls his eyes. “Okay, so what? Even if there is something out there, what do you want us to do? Pack it up and go home?” He gestures to the house, the field, the bonfire. “We’re in the safest spot for miles. Unless a damn bear is about to crash the party, I say we let it be.”

A murmur of agreement passes through the group, but not everyone looks convinced.

Then, as if on cue, the sound comes again.

Thud. Scrape. Thud. Scrape.

This time, it’s unmistakable. Loud. Rhythmic. It’s closer.

The music suddenly feels too loud, the fire too small. Every shadow around the bonfire stretches just a little too far into the dark.

Ava curses. “Okay. That’s… that’s weird.”

“Maybe it is an animal?” someone suggests, though their voice isn’t steady.

Tyler forces a laugh. “Or maybe our friends here are just screwing with us.” He looks at you and Emily, raising an eyebrow. “You get bored or something?”

You glare. “Are you serious? We didn’t make that up.”

The mood is breaking. People are getting uncomfortable, looking at each other for answers no one has. Some are whispering. A few have gone quiet, eyes locked on the woods. You feel it too—that slow, creeping sensation that something isn’t right.

Then, another noise. Not from the woods this time.

From the house.

A loud thump—like something slamming against a wall inside.

Someone swears under their breath. Emily tenses. “What the hell was that?”

Tyler sits up now, no longer smiling. “…Was anyone inside?”

Everyone shakes their heads.

“No one went in after we got here,” Ava mutters. “I locked the door, remember?”

Another thump. Louder.

The bonfire crackles, sending up a spray of embers. The party atmosphere is completely gone now.

You swallow hard. The woods. The house. Two different sources of noises—both wrong. This isn’t just some animal wandering too close.

Something is out there. And something else might already be inside.

CHAPTER THREE: NOWHERE FEELS SAFE

“This isn’t worth it,” you say, shaking your head. “We need to leave. Now.”

Emily looks at you, wide-eyed, but nods. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Let’s get to the car.”

A ripple of agreement moves through the group. No one wants to be the first to say they’re scared, but the tension is too thick to ignore now. Even Tyler, who had been laughing just minutes ago, doesn’t have a joke ready.

You grab your keys and turn toward the gravel driveway where the cars are parked. The night air feels colder than before, pressing in as you move away from the fire’s glow. The trees loom on either side of the path, their branches shifting slightly in the breeze, casting shadows that seem to twist and stretch unnaturally.

Footsteps crunch behind you—Emily, Ava, Tyler, and a few others following close. No one speaks.

Another thump sounds from the house.

You freeze. This one is different—less like something hitting a wall and more like… a knock.

Emily swears under her breath. “No. No way.”

Then, the front door creaks open. The entire group whirls toward the house. The door swings inward, the darkness beyond swallowing the dim porch light. Every instinct in you screams to run, but then—

“Hello?” A man’s voice. Firm. Clear.

Then he steps into the light, and you see it—a uniform.

A cop.

For one, fleeting moment, the tension snaps. Relief washes over you so fast it’s dizzying. The officer looks just as startled to see all of you standing frozen in the yard. He’s in his late 40s, with a tired face and a hand resting lightly on his belt—not on his gun, but near it. He scans the group, his gaze sharp.

“What the hell are you kids doing out here?”

Ava is the first to react. “We… we’re just having a party?” She makes it sound like a question.

The officer frowns. “At this house?” He shakes his head. “This place is abandoned. No one should be here.”

Your stomach tightens. “The owner—uh, Seth—said we could use it for the night.”

“Seth who?”

Silence. No one knows his last name.

The officer exhales sharply. “Alright. Everyone stay put. I need to check something.” He turns back toward the house, stepping inside. You and Emily exchange a look—one that says we should not be here.

Tyler crosses his arms. “So what? We’re just supposed to wait for Officer Buzzkill to tell us to go home?”

And then—that noise again. From the woods. Louder. Closer.

You turn so fast your vision swims. The trees beyond the cars seem to shift, the darkness inside them moving.

A low, rhythmic scraping sound drags through the silence, followed by a whisper of something brushing against the leaves.

Something is in the woods, watching. And it knows you’re trying to leave.

The officer steps back out onto the porch. “Alright, I don’t know who let you in here, but—”

He stops. His head tilts slightly, eyes locked on the tree line. The air changes. The confident, unimpressed demeanor drops from his face, and what replaces it makes your skin crawl. The officer is scared.

“Everyone. Get to the cars.” His voice is steady, but there’s an urgency to it now.

You don’t need to be told twice. The group surges forward, shoving toward the vehicles. Your hands tremble as you fumble with your keys. Behind you, Emily is yanking Ava toward the passenger side, Tyler is shoving at his car door. Someone else is cursing, their hands shaking too badly to get the lock open.

And the noise is getting closer. A low, guttural click-click-click echoes from the trees. The scraping is faster now, moving in pulses. The firelight barely reaches the woods, but you swear you see something shift between the trees—something moving on all fours.

Your fingers finally find the keyhole. You wrench the door open and throw yourself inside, locking it just as Emily and Ava slam their doors shut.

Someone screams. Tyler’s door won’t open.

“Tyler, move!” someone shouts.

The officer strides forward, hand on his holster now. “Everyone, stay inside your cars—”

Before he can finish, something moves at the edge of the light. A flash of something pale and long-limbed, hunched low to the ground. And then it’s gone.

Your breath catches. What was that?

Then the officer does something that turns your stomach to ice. He draws his gun. Not toward the woods—toward the house.

You whip your head around, expecting to see something in the doorway—some shadow, some sign that whatever’s in the woods isn’t the only thing hunting you. But the door is open. And empty. And yet, the officer’s hands are steady. His face is pale.

“There’s something inside,” he murmurs.

The back of your skull tingles with the weight of a decision. The cars feel like the safest place right now—but are they? The officer’s standing his ground, gun raised at nothing. The woods are alive with something, circling, waiting.

CHAPTER FOUR: TRAPPED

You grip the steering wheel so hard your knuckles ache. Stay in the car, lock the doors, and do not get out. It’s the only thing that makes sense.

The officer is still standing in the yard, gun raised toward the house, his jaw tight. Whatever he sees—or thinks he sees—it has him frozen. But that’s not the biggest problem.

The woods are still moving. The unnatural clicking sound echoes from the trees, too deliberate to be an animal, too inhuman to be anything else. Shadows shift beyond the firelight, just beyond the reach of your headlights.

Emily is in the passenger seat, breathing hard. “Are we safe?” she whispers.

You don’t answer, because you don’t know. Ava, sitting in the back, is frantically checking her phone. “No signal. No goddamn signal.” She slams it against her palm, as if that’ll help.

Outside, Tyler is still struggling with his car door. “It’s jammed!” he shouts, yanking at the handle. His face is pale now, no more smug confidence. Another girl—Hannah, maybe?—is pounding on the back seat window, begging someone to let her in.

A sick realization crawls through you: there aren’t enough cars for everyone. Then, something slams into the side of the house. The impact shudders through the wood, rattling the porch light. The officer jerks toward the sound, his grip tightening on his gun. His flashlight flicks toward the doorway, illuminating nothing but the yawning darkness inside.

You try not to breathe too loudly. Then—a thump. Not from the house or the woods, but from the roof of your car. Emily chokes on a gasp. Ava whimpers. You don’t dare look up. The metal groans as something shifts above you. Your mind races. How the hell did it get up there?

You hear a scraping sound—long and sharp—like claws dragging across the roof. Emily’s hand grips your arm. Ava is whimpering, curled into herself in the backseat. And then your headlights flicker—and they go out. Darkness slams over you like a curtain. The only light left is from the dying bonfire and the officer’s flashlight. His beam sweeps wildly between the house and the trees.

And then, for the first time, you hear it. A voice—low, whispering—coming from above. It rasps one word, barely audible over the pounding of your heartbeat:

“Run.”

The weight shifts again. A sharp, rhythmic tap-tap-tap against the roof, like fingers drumming against the metal. Then—a sudden, deafening screech. The roof buckles inward as something enormous slams against it. Emily screams. Ava shrieks. You fumble for the keys, jamming them into the ignition, twisting hard.

The car won’t start.

Your stomach drops. “Come on, come on—”

There’s another thunderous impact. The windshield splinters.

The officer moves, lifting his radio to his mouth. “This is Officer Langley requesting immediate backup—”

At first, there’s only static. Then, a voice comes through, distorted and crackling.

“…Too late…”

The radio dies.

Langley stands frozen for a moment, then makes a decision. He turns toward your car and fires his gun. The shot rings out, shattering the night. A high, unnatural screech erupts from your car’s roof. Something leaps from the vehicle, vanishing into the trees. Then, finally, there’s silence.

Your ears ring. Your chest is heaving. Emily is sobbing softly. Ava is shaking.

The next thing you know, Langley is at your window, pounding hard. “Get out! Now!”

You hesitate. The car now feels like both the safest and the most dangerous place to be, all at once. Your hands tremble. You don’t know what’s worse—staying trapped or stepping into whatever hell awaits outside.

CHAPTER FIVE: THE HOLLOW AWAKENS

You don’t think. You just move.

Your fingers fumble with the lock, and before your mind can second-guess itself, you throw the door open and lunge out. Emily follows, barely keeping up, and Ava stumbles out behind her.

The bonfire has shrunk to little more than embers, casting flickering shadows that stretch unnaturally along the ground.

Officer Langley is already backing away from the cars, gun raised, scanning the trees. His flashlight wavers.

“This isn’t just some animal,” he mutters. “You need to stay close. Now.”

You nod, heart hammering. The others who managed to get out of their cars—Ava, Emily, Tyler—huddle behind you. Some are still trapped, locked in, too scared to move. You think about calling to them, but then—

That voice comes again, soft, whispering—but not from the woods this time No, this time, it’s coming from inside the house.

“…He sees you…”

Langley’s flashlight swings toward the front door. It’s wide open now, even though you’re sure it had been shut just moments ago. The interior is bathed in darkness.

And then you see them. Figures. Standing in the doorway, watching your every move. At first, you think they’re party guests who had gone inside earlier. But no—these people are different. Their clothes are old—far too old. Heavy fabric, dark robes that don’t belong in this century. Their faces are partially hidden beneath cowls, but their eyes glow faintly in the firelight.

A deep, low chanting begins, so soft you can barely hear it over your pulse pounding in your ears.

Langley stiffens. “Get away from the house,” he orders. “Now.”

But then, the ground trembles. A slow, rhythmic thudding comes from beneath your feet—as if something is waking up.

Ava gasps. “What the hell was that?”

Langley doesn’t answer. His grip on the gun tightens. The masked figures don’t move. They stand perfectly still, whispering their incantations. Their eyes flick toward you briefly, and in that instant, you feel something watching you.

Not them. Something deeper and older. Something… beneath.

Langley steps in front of you. “We need to get out of here! Right now!”

One of the figures at the doorway lifts a hand. The chanting grows louder. And then, from within the house, something growls.

It’s not human. It’s not anything you recognize.

The ground shakes again, harder this time. The fire pit collapses in on itself, sending up a spray of embers. The trees groan, bending inward, like they’re being drawn toward whatever is coming.

And then you see it: a massive shape, moving in the darkness just beyond the cultists. It appears vaguely human, but its limbs are too long, and its joints are bending the wrong way.

And the worst part? It’s smiling.

Its eyes pulse with something deep, ancient, and hungry.

Langley fires. The shot shatters the air, and for a split second, the world holds still—

Then all hell breaks loose.

The cultists move as one, surging forward. Their hands reach outward, fingers twitching, whispering in a language your mind struggles to process.

The thing behind them laughs. The sound does not belong on this earth.

The ground cracks beneath your feet.

You have to move. Now.

CHAPTER SIX: THE BREAKING POINT

You don’t waste time thinking—you follow Langley.

The officer moves with purpose, gun raised, his face set in grim determination. The others—Emily, Ava, and Tyler—stick close behind, their footsteps crunching against the dead grass. The cultists don’t break their formation, but their whispering grows faster, more fevered.

And the thing behind them? It shifts, its grotesque body unfolding further from the shadows, stretching unnaturally, its too-long limbs bending as if testing the limits of its form.

“We go,” Langley barks. “No stopping, no looking back.”

That’s when Tyler—panic wide in his eyes—breaks away from the group.

“Nope. Nope. I’m out. Screw this, I’m not dying here!” he shouts.

You watch, frozen, as he bolts—not toward the house, not toward the group, but back down the road, the way you all came.

“TYLER!” Ava shrieks.

Langley whips around, hand outstretched. “Don’t—”

Too late. Tyler doesn’t make it ten feet before something moves in the dark. A blur—too fast to be seen clearly—lashes out from the trees. There’s a wet sound, like meat tearing, followed by a choked, gasping scream.

Tyler’s body folds unnaturally mid-stride, something unseen gripping him, pulling him apart like a ragdoll. Blood sprays, splattering across the gravel, across the grass, across Ava’s horrified face.

Then, he’s gone.

What’s left of him is dragged into the dark, vanishing completely. The whispering stops.

The cultists turn their heads in unison, their glowing eyes focused not on you, not on Langley—but on the thing inside the house.

And then it moves, faster than before.

Langley doesn’t hesitate. “INSIDE! NOW!”

But Ava digs her heels in, shaking her head violently. “Are you crazy?! That thing is in there! We can’t go inside!”

Emily’s face is pale and wild-eyed. “No way. No way! If we go in there, we’re as good as dead!”

The others nod, panicked. None of them move.

Langley turns on them, hard. “This isn’t my first time dealing with this!” His voice is rough, low, but unwavering. His eyes cut between the cultists and the massive thing shifting in the darkness. “I’ve seen what happens when you run. I’ve seen what happens when you freeze. And I’ve seen what happens when you go inside!”

He looks at you, then at Emily. “But I also know how to stop it.”

The ground beneath you shudders violently. The cultists’ chanting is reaching a peak. The entity in the woods isn’t waiting anymore.

“You trust me,” Langley says, his voice razor-sharp. “Or you die out here!”

There’s no more arguing. You run.

The moment you cross the threshold, you notice the scent of rot clings to the wooden walls, and the floor creaks unnaturally, as though something beneath it is shifting.

The cultists remain outside, their chanting shifting into something desperate. Whatever they were summoning, it’s here—and it’s not in their control anymore.

Langley moves first, sweeping the room with his flashlight. “The ritual’s still in progress. If we stop it before it fully takes form—”

A shadow moves ahead. One of the cultists is already inside—a hooded figure, standing perfectly still, watching you with those glowing, hollow eyes.

Langley doesn’t hesitate—he fires.The shot shreds the quiet, but the cultist doesn’t fall. Instead, she smiles. Then, she lunges.

A knife flashes. Langley grunts, stumbling back as the blade buries itself into his side.

You don’t think—you act. You grab the gun from his hand just as he crumples, blood spilling from the wound. The cultist turns on you, her hood slipping just enough to reveal empty black sockets where her eyes should be.

You fire. The shot punches through her chest—and something shifts. The cultists outside scream, and the ground shakes violently. The house groans, wood splitting at the seams. The massive shape behind the cultists shudders—not in pain, but in rage.

Langley collapses against the wall, breathing hard, his face pale. “You…” he gasps. “That might’ve just saved us.” His eyes flick toward the door. “But it’s not over. Not while those things are still outside.”

The house trembles as something outside howls—inhuman, furious, and hungry.

You clutch the gun tighter.

You have to end this.

* * * * * *

TO BE CONTINUED…

* * * * * *

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