True TAIWAN Horror story

Jimmy was alone, curled up in his sleeping bag at Tianyun Lodge. The wind howled outside, rattling the wooden walls. When the cold crept in, he’d flick his lighter for a fleeting burst of warmth.

But sleeping like that? Impossible. You have to keep pressing the lighter, and his warming packs—along with half a bottle of water and his headlamp—were still back at Qilai Second Fort.

No big deal, right? He’d just go get them! Except… the headlamp was also at the fort. He had to go back, or he’d be toast.

Summoning his courage, he stepped outside with the lighter. Flick—lit. Hiss—out. The wind was relentless. He tried again—same result. Desperate, he grabbed his phone. Its faint glow outshone the lighter, though it offered no warmth.

Groping his way back to the fort, he faced that thick iron door again. Pushing it open felt like tempting fate—what if someone was standing inside? (Jimmy, ease up on the horror flicks!) With a grunt, he shoved it open and wedged it to stay put. Shining his phone inside—nothing. A step further—still nothing. Another step—there! His stuff, scattered on the floor.

Just as he moved to grab it—BANG! The wind slammed the door shut. Jimmy jumped, his phone slipping from his hand. The battery popped out, skittering across the floor. Pitch black. That suffocating feeling returned—like a crowd was watching him.

Trembling, he fumbled for the lighter. Click, click, click—finally, a flame! The mess in his pants, now cold and crusty from his earlier freakout, clung to his legs.

He gathered his gear, then froze. In the corner—a sleeping bag? Or… a body bag?! His instincts screamed run. He bolted, shoved the door open, and sprinted back to the lodge, diving into his sleeping bag. He claims he fell asleep instantly. I’d bet his body just shut down from sheer terror.

Jimmy’s first day ended in chaos. Remember, it snowed up higher that day, but down where he was, it was rain. He wasn’t woken by the patter of drops, though—it was a piercing scream, a girl’s voice slicing through the night. (I suspect it was our senior classmate running into her “hero,” but who knows?)

Sleep was off the table after that. He lay awake until the rain stopped, the pre-dawn hours dragging on as his mind replayed the scream, the naked woman, and Qilai Second Fort. Self-inflicted fear is the worst—pro tip: wipe your brain of weird videos before a climb.

Morning came, the ground damp, the air thick with fog. Starving, with nothing edible left, Jimmy sipped water to stave off hunger. Being cooped up alone was suffocating, so after wiping the dried mess off his legs with wet tissues, he ventured out again.

This time, he headed back to that grassy field, lightly equipped and clutching a stick from the lodge—maybe to hunt that wild, long-haired naked woman? (How he spotted her with 600-degree myopia is beyond me. He insists it was the long hair and pale skin.)

Off he went, chasing his bizarre quarry. Spoiler: he spent the whole morning and found zilch. As the sky grayed and his stomach growled, he trudged back, dejected.

On the way, passing through a cluster of trees, the ground crunched with fallen leaves. Crunch, crunch—wait, was that behind him? Nah, just his imagination. A few more steps—crunch, crunch!—no, that was real. In broad daylight! He glanced back and froze.

The long-haired naked woman was 20 meters away. Holy crap! Most people would bolt. Jimmy, famished as he was, ran too—then tripped. Classic movie trope, right? Murphy’s Law in action. Scrambling up, he looked back—she was gone. Phew. He limped back to the lodge, sipping more of his precious water since food was a distant dream.

Rain started again. The lodge felt stuffy, so he slid open the outer door. The drizzle and soft breeze were oddly soothing after his fruitless naked-lady hunt. Exhausted, he sprawled out, using his sleeping bag as a pillow, and dozed off. Ever get that feeling someone’s moving nearby while you sleep? Jimmy did. Half-asleep, he wondered if someone was at the door. Groggy, he opened his eyes—and there she was! The long-haired naked woman, standing in the doorway.

He snapped awake, heart pounding. But it wasn’t just the shock of her sudden appearance or the dreary, rainy backdrop that freaked him out. No, it was worse. He realized—she wasn’t a she. The long-haired naked “woman” was a man.

The figure in the doorway wasn’t just a naked woman—or man—with long hair. This person had pale skin, deep facial contours, and the distinct features of an Indigenous Taiwanese.

And then Jimmy’s eyes dropped lower—yep, definitely a man.

Two days of survival stress had honed his reflexes: Run! “Holy crap!!!” he screamed, snatching his sleeping bag and backpack before bolting out the door.

Out in the rain, where could he go? Somewhere dry—Qilai Second Fort! Driven by desperation, he retreated to the metal shack. Standing before that heavy iron door, he hesitated. What if he opened it and the long-haired naked man charged in?

The rain drummed on the tin roof, a relentless drip-drip-drip. Frozen at the entrance, he couldn’t move. Then a thought hit him: that “body bag” in the corner from yesterday.

Summoning some inexplicable courage, he grabbed his headlamp—finally retrieved—and aimed it at the corner. There it was: a zipped-up bag. Sleeping bag or corpse? Heart pounding, he yanked it open. Relief flooded him—inside were four moldy sleeping bags.

No bodies. He checked the rest of the fort; nothing seemed out of place. Decision made: he’d stay here tonight. He played on his phone until it died as darkness fell and the rain stopped. Time to sleep. Crawling into his sleeping bag, he was just drifting off. But, voice, outside.