There are certain careers in which being brave is part of the job description. This search and rescue officer decided it was time to come forward and share the horrifying truth behind what he had experienced deep in the wilderness…
Rookie Officer
Search and rescue officer Chris Richards first began working for the United States Forest Service in 2012. Chris was a licensed guide and expert outdoorsman, which made him an ideal candidate for the SAR team. Still, Chris’ survival skills couldn’t protect him from what he would witness in the woods.
Strange Phenomenon
The first time Chris saw a staircase in the woods, he wasn’t sure what to make of it. He had only been with the SAR unit for a few months; this was the farthest he had ventured into the forest. It was as if someone had taken the stairs from a normal house and placed them in the middle of the wilderness…
A Warning
When Chris asked the other officer on his mission why there was an immaculate set of wooden stairs forty miles deep in the woods, he was told not to worry about it, and never, ever to go near them.
There Had to Be a Reason
Everyone he questioned about the stairs offered the same response: this was something he should come to expect, but by no means was he allowed to approach, touch, or ascend them. Chris swallowed his curiosity. He had a job to do, and if his superiors gave him an order, there was always a rationale behind it…
Where Did They Come From?
In the immediate weeks following the incident, Chris adhered to directions. He noted some details. First, the staircases would only appear upward of thirty miles deep in the woods. They came in a variety of shapes, sizes, conditions, and styles. Some were dilapidated beyond use, but others seemed brand new, as if they had been plucked directly from somebody’s home…
Mysterious Origins
The stairs didn’t ascend infinitely. Chris could always make out the top. Once, he saw a set that looked like it had once been inside of a lighthouse: spiraling metal, old-fashioned. Another appeared as though it had been lifted from a turn-of-the-century castle.
Don’t Bend the Rules
He learned to rarely bring up the stairs around other officers. It seemed to make them uncomfortable, as though he was discussing something that should have remained unspoken. Then, Chris was assigned his first search operation. For the first time, he would understand why the stairs had to be avoided at all costs.
Feeling Optimistic
A ten-year-old boy had been separated from his mother. This was a case where Chris and his team were absolutely sure they’d be able to locate the child. The dogs were trailing a strong scent and there were multiple signs in the area indicating he was nearby.
Unusual Behavior
The boy had gone missing near a river. Chris’ first thought was that he might have fallen in and drowned, but the dogs soon led the officers away from the river and up into a densely-wooded area. SAR officers are trained to search areas in a grid pattern so as to cover ground most effectively. That’s when Chris noticed something unusual: the dogs were picking up the kid’s scent in alternating boxes.
Where Had He Gone?
It was as if the land was a checkerboard and the dogs were only picking up scents in black boxes instead of red. This was logistically impossible. How could the child go from box to box without leaving a consistent scent trail? That’s when Chris noticed a set of stairs forty or fifty yards away.
Curiosity Killed the Cat
“We should go check it,” Chris said. His partner scoffed at him.
“You know we’re not allowed,” he said, eyeing the staircase as though it was about to jump up and bite them.
Chris heaved an irritated sigh. “There’s a kid in danger, Steven.”
“Listen, we may see them all the time, but I won’t pretend that it’s normal,” Steven replied. “I’ll wait in sight if you want to poke around.”
He Needed Answers
Chris tried to convince himself he was only investigating the stairs to help locate the missing boy. In truth, he was determined to find out what made something as benign as a random staircase so unnerving to his peers.
They’re Just Stairs
Chris walked toward the stairs. They were narrow and dark, as though they had once led down to someone’s basement. As he got closer, he didn’t feel any different. From the way his team reacted to the staircases, Chris had expected something far more sinister to happen, like bleeding from his eyeballs or instantly collapsing to the ground. Instead, he stood there, mere feet from the first step.
Bizarre Detail
Against his better judgment, Chris peered closer at the staircase. He was surprised to find the stairs were completely void of debris from the forest. No dirt, leaves, dust, twigs. Nothing.
Everything Seemed Normal
Chris bent down to touch the stairs. They felt… like stairs. Wooden, normal, dry. He checked to make sure his radio was on in the unlikely event of something happening to him. Then, Chris began to ascend the staircase.
A Terrible Mistake
As he began to walk toward the top, Chris felt a deep sense of dread wash over him, but he assumed this was just his reaction to the way the stairs had been characterized by his unit. Part of him was worried he’d be abducted by aliens. Instead, he reached the final step seemingly intact.
That was when he began to feel as though something was very, very wrong.
Dead Quiet
The longer Chris stood on the top step, the more uneasy he became. It was as if he’d trespassed on private property and might get caught at any moment. Chris felt like someone was going to come up and knife him in the temple. He realized he couldn’t hear anything, anymore.
Bad Decision
The forest had fallen eerily silent; he inhaled, but he was unable to hear the sound of his own breath. His ears began to ring. In the distance, Chris could make out his partner waving his arms in the air and screaming for Chris to get down. Chris turned around, prepared to sprint back to safety, when he saw something on the bottom step that made his blood run cold.
Impossible
The boy had only been missing a few hours, but there he was, curled up on the bottom of the staircase. The world was moving in slow motion. How had Chris not seen him? He couldn’t have been there when Chris had first started to climb the stairs. He had inspected them thoroughly. But now, lying motionless in front of him, was evidence to the contrary. Chris gripped the railing as he made his way back down.
No Pulse
Chris stepped over the boy’s unmoving form. The second his feet his the ground, sound came rushing back at him full-force, and Chris stumbled into a nearby tree, struck by the force of noise from all sides. He blindly felt for his radio with one hand, crouching to check the boy’s pulse with the other. It was gone.
Reaping the Consequences
Chris hoisted the limp body into his arms. He made his way back toward his partner, who looked like he wanted to wring Chris’ neck with his bare hands. The rest of their unit was already running toward them; they heard dogs barking madly in the distance.
Why Did He Do It?
Chris’ partner turned toward him, red in the face. “Why would you do that?”
“I-I don’t know,” Chris stammered. He hadn’t gathered his bearings, still reeling from the discovery of the child, who he had gently placed on the ground in front of them. The boy didn’t appear to be injured. His lips and chin were tinged red. Chris wondered if he had eaten poisonous berries, but he felt uncomfortable speculating until he had all the facts.
“He would have been alive,” his partner hissed, grabbing Chris by the shoulders, “if you hadn’t gone up the stairs.”
The Phone Call
Chris had a buddy from college named Dan who worked for the sheriff’s department, but he figured the circumstances of the child’s death would remain under wraps. That’s how it usually went with these things. SAR officers didn’t always hear back from coroners about civilian deaths. It technically wasn’t part of their job and often required legal interference, meaning the information was withheld to avoid any risk of foul play. When Chris received a phone call the following week, he had no way of preparing himself for what he was about to hear.
Unbelievable
“Do you remember that kid? The one from the woods?” Dan asked.
“Of course I do,” Chris said.
“Man, you’re going to think I’m crazy, but the coroner… he has no idea what happened to him.”
Chris froze. “What do you mean?”
More Than What Meets the Eye
“First of all, the kid didn’t have a nick on his body,” Dan said. “No scratches, nothing. There were no entry or exit wounds.”
Chris swallowed, pulling the phone away from his ear for a moment. When he brought it back up to his face, he asked, “What do you mean entry or exit wounds? He was shot?”
Dan hesitated for a moment. “No, not exactly.”
A Nightmare
“The kid’s insides were like swiss cheese,” Dan continued. “Dime-sized holes cut through every single organ besides his heart and lungs. The coroner had never seen anything like it. It was as if someone took a hole punch and clipped perfect circles out of all his tissue.”
Chris felt his ears begin to ring, the same way they had in the forest. Oppressive, deafening.
Nothing Like It
“The closest thing anyone had ever seen to it was that guy last year who cleaned himself out with buckshot while he was polishing his rifle. I just wanted to know if you’d ever heard of anything like this. Any similar cases in the past, you know?”
“No,” Chris said. “I haven’t.”
Dazed and Confused
When Chris had returned to work the day after the incident, everyone in his unit was acting as though nothing was wrong. Chris couldn’t fathom how people were just… going about their day, as if they hadn’t witnessed something obscene occur less than twenty-four hours prior. He felt a hand on his shoulder.
“Can I speak to you in private?” Steven asked.
Traumatized
Chris nodded numbly. He followed Steven away from the other officers. When the two of them were alone, Steven sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You can’t go up the stairs.”
“I know that,” Chris said.
Steven looked as if he wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words. Chris stared at the ground. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the child, lifeless, resting on the bottom step.
Bad Things Out There
“There are bad things out there,” Steven finally said. “Things that don’t care if we have people at home who love us. Things that don’t care if we can think or feel. Just do me a favor and be careful.”
Heed the Warnings
Since the day Chris found the child, he won’t go within a hundred yards of any staircase he sees in the woods. When new trainees ask him about the stairs, he tells them not to approach, touch, or ascend them. He won’t say why.