"They call this location a mysterious vortex of Transylvania," states a local guide, his breath forming wisps of condensation in the cold dusk atmosphere. "So many individuals have gone missing here, it's thought there's a gateway to a different realm." Marius is escorting a guest on a evening stroll through frequently labeled as the world's most haunted grove: Hoia-Baciu, a square mile of primeval native woodland on the edges of the metropolis of Cluj-Napoca.
Stories of strange happenings here go back a long time – the grove is called after a regional herder who is believed to have disappeared in the long ago, together with 200 of his sheep. But Hoia-Baciu came to worldwide fame in 1968, when an army specialist known as Emil Barnea captured on film what he described as a unidentified flying object floating above a round opening in the centre of the forest.
Numerous entered this place and vanished without trace. But no need to fear," he continues, turning to his guest with a grin. "Our guided walks have a 100% return rate."
In the years that followed, Hoia-Baciu has drawn yogis, shamans, extraterrestrial investigators and ghost hunters from across the world, eager to feel the unusual forces said to echo through the forest.
Although it is one of the world's premier destinations for supernatural fans, the grove is facing danger. The western districts of Cluj-Napoca – a contemporary technology center of over 400,000 residents, described as the innovation center of eastern Europe – are encroaching, and developers are campaigning for permission to clear the trees to build apartment blocks.
Aside from a few hectares home to area-specific specific tree species, the grove is not officially protected, but Marius hopes that the initiative he co-founded – a local conservation effort – will assist in altering this, motivating the government officials to recognise the forest's importance as a travel hotspot.
When small sticks and autumn leaves break and crackle beneath their shoes, Marius describes some of the folk tales and alleged paranormal happenings here.
While many of the accounts may be impossible to confirm, there is much clearly observable that is definitely bizarre. All around are trees whose bases are curved and contorted into unusual forms.
Different theories have been proposed to clarify the deformed trees: powerful storms could have altered the growth, or typically increased radioactivity in the soil cause their strange formation.
But formal examinations have discovered insufficient proof.
Marius's walks permit guests to engage in a small-scale research of their own. When nearing the clearing in the forest where Barnea photographed his well-known UFO pictures, he passes his guest an EMF meter which measures energy patterns.
"We're venturing into the most energetic area of the forest," he says. "Try to detect something."
The trees abruptly end as we emerge into a flawless round. The only greenery is the trimmed turf beneath our feet; it's apparent that it's not maintained, and looks that this strange clearing is natural, not the work of landscaping.
This part of Romania is a place which stirs the imagination, where the division is blurred between fact and folklore. In countryside villages superstition remains in strigoi ("screamers") – otherworldly, appearance-altering creatures, who emerge from tombs to frighten local communities.
Bram Stoker's famous vampire Count Dracula is always connected with Transylvania, and Bran Castle – a medieval building perched on a rocky outcrop in the mountain range – is actively advertised as "the vampire's home".
But including myth-shrouded Transylvania – actually, "the territory after the grove" – appears solid and predictable compared to these eerie woods, which appear to be, for factors related to radiation, climatic or entirely legendary, a hub for human imaginative power.
"Inside these woods," the guide comments, "the division between fact and fiction is very thin."