They Vanished In The Mountains, 10 Years Later A Hiker Finds Something Chilling… | HO!!!!

PORTLAND, OR — On a cloud-shrouded morning in August 2014, Mark and Linda Thompson kissed their three children goodbye, loaded their hiking packs into a silver Honda Pilot, and set off for what was meant to be the adventure of a lifetime. The couple, both seasoned outdoors enthusiasts from suburban Portland, were celebrating their 22nd wedding anniversary with a seven-day trek through Washington’s remote Glacier Peak Wilderness—a journey that would become one of the Pacific Northwest’s most perplexing missing person cases.

For a decade, their disappearance haunted family, friends, and investigators. Not a single trace was found. That is, until September 2024, when a routine day hike led to a discovery so disturbing it would forever change the story of what happened to the Thompsons in those mountains.

A Family’s Last Goodbye

The Thompson household in Beaverton was bustling with the familiar chaos of parents preparing for a rare getaway. Sixteen-year-old Sarah rolled her eyes as her mother, Linda, triple-checked emergency contact lists. Fourteen-year-old Jake negotiated for permission to have friends over, while twelve-year-old Emma clung to her father’s leg, reluctant to let him leave.

Linda, a nurse at Providence St. Vincent Medical Center, had been looking forward to this trip for months. The relentless grind of twelve-hour shifts and the demands of raising three teenagers had left her exhausted.

Mark, a software engineer at Nike, was equally eager to unplug and reconnect with the wilderness that had always been his sanctuary. Their love story had begun on a hiking trail, and every milestone—proposal, honeymoon, anniversaries—was marked by the mountains.

But in recent years, the demands of work and family had pulled them away from the trails they loved. “This anniversary trip was supposed to fix all of that,” Linda told her sister before leaving. “Seven days, no phones, no internet, just us and the mountains.”

Prepared For Anything—Except What Came Next

Mark planned their route with military precision. They’d start at Buck Creek Trailhead, hike north through Henry M. Jackson Wilderness, loop back through Glacier Peak, and return to their starting point—a sixty-mile circuit through some of Washington’s wildest terrain. They were experienced, well-equipped, and left a detailed itinerary with family, promising to check in via satellite messenger on days three and six.

On departure day, Mark loaded their packs with everything needed for survival: a lightweight tent, cold-rated sleeping bags, a GPS device, a comprehensive first aid kit, and enough food for eight days. The weather was perfect—clear skies, warm days, cool nights. At the trailhead, Linda snapped a photo of Mark adjusting his pack, a moment captured by a passing couple from Sacramento. It would become one of the last known images of the Thompsons alive.

They signed the trail register at 9:15 a.m. and began their ascent into the wilderness. The first day’s hike was uneventful, ending at a pristine campsite beside Trinity Lake. Linda’s journal entry that night was optimistic: “Day one perfect. Mark seems more relaxed already. Weather gorgeous. Tomorrow we tackle the high country.”

Into The Heart Of Darkness

Day two dawned with promise. Mark woke before sunrise to watch the alpenglow paint distant peaks in rose and gold. Their planned route would take them up Miner’s Ridge, across exposed alpine terrain, then down into Spider Creek drainage—a challenging fourteen-mile trek.

As they climbed, the forest thinned, giving way to rocky ridges and spectacular views. It was here, on the remote ridge line, that Linda noticed something odd—a cluster of granite boulders arranged in a circle.

Up close, they found the rocks weren’t placed by chance. Seven large boulders formed a rough circle, with smaller stones arranged in strange symbols. Faint carvings—letters, numbers, and a triangle with an eye—marked the stones, some weathered, some recent.

Mark snapped photos, speculating it might be an archaeological site. Linda felt uneasy, sensing something artificial and ominous. The mood of their hike changed. Conversation faded, replaced by tension and frequent glances over their shoulders.

They made camp that night beside a beaver pond in ancient cedars. Linda’s journal entry reflected her unease: “Strange day, beautiful hiking, but found something odd on Miner’s Ridge. Can’t shake the feeling we weren’t alone up there.”

The Wilderness Turns Hostile

The third morning brought an unsettling silence—no birds, no wind, even the stream seemed muted. Linda awoke haggard, describing footsteps around their tent during the night. Mark tried to reassure her, but he too felt a growing sense of dread.

They broke camp quickly. Instead of following their planned route, Mark suggested a detour to investigate an old mining claim marked on his map. Linda hesitated, but agreed. The trail was barely visible, overgrown and treacherous. Hours passed as they navigated obstacles, losing the path entirely. By late afternoon, they were lost, standing at the edge of a steep ravine that didn’t appear on any map.

Below, partially hidden by fallen trees, was the remains of a structure—clearly manmade, ancient, and mysterious. Mark insisted they investigate. Linda, torn between caution and curiosity, reluctantly agreed.

The descent was dangerous, but they reached the ruins—a cabin built of carefully fitted stones, far beyond what a simple mining camp would require. Inside, they found personal items: a modern hiking boot, camping gear from various eras, and clothing arranged in patterns echoing the stone circle.

Linda picked up a faded bandana. A driver’s license fell out—Sarah Mitchell, Seattle, expired 1987. Mark found a rusted metal box containing a journal, its pages yellowed but legible. The journal, dated 1986, belonged to David Chen.

It chronicled his and his partner’s capture by a group called the Guardians, who lived in the mountains protecting “the old ways.” The Guardians marked sacred sites with stone circles, capturing hikers who ventured too close. Chen’s final entry was a warning: “Don’t trust the stone circles. Stay away from the markers.”

The Chilling Truth Revealed

Linda’s hands shook as Mark read the journal. Every detail matched their experience—the stone circle, the feeling of being watched, the sense of being drawn toward the ruins. They realized they hadn’t stumbled onto a historical curiosity, but a trap that had claimed victims for decades.

Voices echoed from above the ravine—multiple people, speaking in low tones, circling like hunters. Linda and Mark hid behind a collapsed wall. Three figures descended, moving with the confidence of those who knew the terrain intimately. They wore modern gear, but their movements were predatory.

The lead figure scanned the ruins, his face weathered and intelligent. He wasn’t a crazed hermit, but someone with purpose and ritual. The second guardian, covered in tattoos matching the stone circle’s symbols, held the journal. “David Chen wrote about us,” he said, his tone casual and chilling. “Very helpful for improving our methods.”

The third guardian carried Mark and Linda’s water bottles and trail mix. They’d been in the couple’s camp, tracking them since the stone circle, manipulating their navigation, and orchestrating every wrong turn. The footsteps Linda heard at night weren’t paranoia—they were preparation.

The lead guardian pulled out a modified GPS, studying it with the focus of a tracker. “Technology always makes them easier to follow,” he said, letting Mark and Linda know how thoroughly they’d been outmaneuvered. The realization hit: the Guardians had been jamming their GPS, guiding them toward the ravine.

A Decade of Darkness Unveiled

Mark and Linda were trapped. Their cell phones had no signal. Their check-in was days away. The coordinates left with family wouldn’t help—no one would ever search this hidden place. The Guardians closed in, their coordination and knowledge of the terrain terrifying in its precision.

The ruins were not artifacts, but trophies from victims who made the same mistake—curiosity about the stone circles. The Guardians were not opportunists, but a group with deep roots and rituals stretching back generations. They studied their victims, refining their methods, and collecting stories and belongings as evidence of their power.

What the hiker found in September 2024 was more than just Mark and Linda’s remains. He uncovered evidence of dozens of disappearances spanning decades, all connected to the stone circles scattered throughout the wilderness. Journals, IDs, and gear from missing hikers filled the ruins, each telling a story of curiosity, terror, and finality.

The Mountains Still Watch

The Guardians are still out there, watching and waiting for the next hikers to venture too close to their ancient secrets. The stone circles aren’t relics—they’re markers, signals, and traps.

The story of Mark and Linda Thompson is a chilling reminder that sometimes, the mountains keep more than just footprints. They keep secrets, and sometimes, those secrets are waiting for someone to find them.