January 2004. Northern Maine.

My name is Nora Whitman, and I was thirty years old when I accepted a winter caretaker job at an isolated mountain lodge.

Pine Hollow Lodge was a summer fishing resort with eighteen guest rooms, several cabins, and a large dining hall.

During winter, the entire property closed.

My job was simple.

Keep the heating systems running.

Check the rooms after storms.

And make sure everything was ready for spring.

The lodge was nearly twelve miles from the nearest town, surrounded by miles of forest.

Most days, I didn't see another person.

I had a landline in the office, but my cell phone barely worked.

For the first six weeks, everything was peaceful.

Then one snowy Tuesday night, headlights appeared outside.

It was just after nine.

A marked police car stopped near the entrance.

Three men stepped out.

They wore uniforms.

They carried badges.

And the older officer introduced himself as Sergeant Cole.

He told me they were searching for two men who had apparently abandoned a vehicle several miles away.

He said they needed to check the lodge.

I hesitated.

But he knew my full name.

He knew I was the winter caretaker.

And he even offered to let me verify his identity before opening the door.

Everything about him seemed professional.

So I let the three officers inside.

At first, their questions sounded reasonable.

Were there any rear entrances?

Was anyone else staying at the lodge?

Where were the guest rooms?

But then the questions changed.

One officer wanted to know where I kept the vehicle keys.

Another started opening drawers.

And Sergeant Cole asked which room I slept in.

Then he asked something that made me uncomfortable.

Was anyone expecting me that night?

I told him the lodge owner sometimes called.

He wanted to know when.

I began noticing something else.

Despite searching a large, isolated building, none of the three officers had contacted dispatch over their radios.

Not once.

I started wondering whether they were really looking for the two missing men.

Then I went into the office to call the lodge owner.

I picked up the telephone.

Nothing.

No dial tone.

When I looked beneath the desk, I noticed something that changed everything.

The telephone wire had been cut inside the lodge.

I was alone, miles from town.

Three unfamiliar men were standing between me and the exits.

And I couldn't let them know I had begun questioning their story.

What happened next turned an ordinary winter caretaker job into a night I would never forget.

Because the most unsettling discovery wasn't what those men were pretending to be.

It was how much they already knew about me.

🎧 An atmospheric psychological horror story about an isolated mountain lodge, mysterious visitors dressed as police officers, strange questions, and an unsettling winter-night encounter.

Experience immersive suspense, creepy mysteries, and realistic psychological horror through calm, deep-voice narration.

Perfect for headphones, late-night listening, long drives, and scary stories for sleep.

Follow The Spooky Hunter for more psychological horror stories, unsettling encounters, mysterious strangers, and immersive nighttime narration.

Narration features an AI-generated voice.

Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.