Read “The Paints”? It’s a short creepypasta—known too as “The Cabin in the Woods”—that holds you. It’s fast to read, plain but spooky. If you like odd tales, go read it. Why this tale? ‘Cause this spot—the one I’m ’bout to show—feels just like it. I’ve seen lots of old spots, but this one was odd. Not a “cool” odd, but a kind that makes your skin crawl. You’ll want to see it, ghost tales or not.
The Find: A Cabin Lost in the Woods
Found this spot by chance. Was on the hunt for a place when I found a dirt trail in the woods. No signs, no fences—just a path, half-hid. Had to follow it. Ten mins in, the trees broke. There it was: A small old house, near hid by trees. Dark glass. Sad roof. But stood there, still & strong. Right then, I felt that “Paints” vibe.
First Looks: Just Like a Scary Film
Ever yell “Don’t go in!” at a film? This was that. Still out. Door a bit open. Vines up the walls. The whole place looked out of time—like all had left & not come back. But I went in.
In the Cabin: Still, Dark, & Lots of Paints
The air felt old. The floors were dusty. Then I saw them. Paints. Lots. Old frames. Old pics & arts on walls. Some crooked, some neat. Some had fell & been put up again. All were staring. Not in a scary way. No blood. They were just folks—from long ago. But they gave off a feel hard to miss. It was like the tale in real.
The “Paints” Link
Don’t know “The Paints”? Here’s a quick hint: A man & his dog hide in a cabin with paints. The eyes of the paints seem to watch him. He wakes up… & finds out a truth ’bout those paints. Read it is one thing. Seeing a real spot like it? Quite ‘nother. In there, I felt it. The set-up, the quiet, it all seemed too planned.
More to See
More to the place: A small cook spot, old cans & broke plates. Fire spot, dark but whole, old logs there. Kid’s room, old bed frame & alone toy there. Fallen book racks, old books & notes all ’round. And odd? No harm done. No marks. It seemed untouched by time, not wrecked.
Did I Feel a Ghost?
I ain’t saying it’s haunted. But not saying it ain’t. I was getting a pic when I felt odd. I turned & thought a paint moved. I checked, it was still. Maybe it was the wind. Or the old floor. But it then it happened again. In ‘nother room. I left not long after.
A Spot That Stays With You
Some spots, you forget. Some stick with you. Even went through the pics, felt odd. I’d like edits, but these? Made me feel off. Not many are out—I’m not sure yet. But I had to write this. ‘Cause spots like this are rare. And they need to be known.
Last Words: When Tales Seem Real
Sometimes, the line ‘tween tale & real is thin. More so when you’re deep in the woods, staring at odd paints in a home that should’ve been empty for years. Would I go back? Maybe not by myself. But glad I went. ‘Cause now & then, you find a spot that brings tales to life. And that’s when you see—the true chill ain’t in the made-up stuff. It’s how real it can feel.
