Let's get this one under way so folks can read it at three in the morning on Halloween.





Ted's Caving Diary

It'll take you about half an hour to read it, but it's well worth it. VERY well done.


Also, I hereby request that the infamous Cow Man story be reposted yet again. I need to actually save that this time.

ETA: This thread is for ANY creepy or disturbing story you've got. Ghosts, bigfoot, chupacabra, aliens, run-in with an axe murderer, whatever. Just nothing stupid like "one time, I walked in on my mother-in-law naked" or "Hillary Clinton scares me".

The Holder of the End

Kinda lame, but still kinda creepy late at night. Originally started on 7chan's paranormal image board (7chan is another imageboard like 4chan; don't bother going there, that's where most of the perverts fled to. ).

Is there just too much traffic?  I can't get the page to load.

Quoted: Is there just too much traffic?  I can't get the page to load.

Which one?

Well, this Tony Alamo guy is creeping me out at the moment.

The Photograph

One school day, a boy named Tom was sitting in class and doing math. It was six more minutes until school let out. As he was doing his homework, something caught his eye.

His desk was next to the window, and he turned to look outside. It looked liked a Polaroid photo. When the bell rang, he ran to the spot where he saw it. He ran quickly, so no one else would get to it first.

He picked it up and smiled. It had a picture of the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She had a dress with tights on and red shoes, and her hand was formed into a peace sign.

She was so beautiful he wanted to meet her, so he ran all over the school and asked everyone if they knew her or have ever seen her before. But everyone he asked said "no." He was devastated.

When he went home, he asked his older sister if she knew the girl, but unfortunately she also said "no." It was very late, so Tom walked up the stairs, placed the picture on his bedside table, and went to sleep.

In the middle of the night, Tom was awakened by a tap on his window. It was like a nail tapping. He got scared. After the tapping he heard a giggle. He saw a shadow near his window, so he got out of his bed, walked toward his window, opened it up and followed the giggling. By the time he reached it, it was gone. He never got a good look, but he could have sworn it was the girl in the photo.

The next day, he asked his neighbors if they knew her. Everybody said, "Sorry, no." When his mother came home, he even asked her if she knew her. She said "no." Disappointed, he went to his room, placed the picture on his desk and fell asleep.

Once again he was awakened by a tapping. He took the picture and followed the giggling. He started to cross the street when a car came out of nowhere and struck him. He died almost instantly.

The driver got out of the car and tried to help him, but it was too late. He noticed a photo in the dead boy's hand and picked it up. He saw a cute girl holding up three fingers.

Quoted: Well, this Tony Alamo guy is creeping me out at the moment.

Yeeeaaaah, not the right sort of creepy for this thread. This is the sort of thread you read at three in the morning that has you looking over your shoulder and jumping at every unexpected sound.

Quoted: Quoted: Is there just too much traffic?  I can't get the page to load. Which one?

Page two of the cave link.

Quoted: Quoted: Quoted: Is there just too much traffic?  I can't get the page to load. Which one? Page two of the cave link.

I dunno, it worked fine when I checked it out.

The original site is gone, so I had to search to find someone who had saved it on their own site. You can google for Ted's Caving Diary if the link I posted doesn't work right.

Quoted: The Holder of the End Kinda lame, but still kinda creepy late at night. Originally started on 7chan's paranormal image board (7chan is another imageboard like 4chan; don't bother going there, that's where most of the perverts fled to. ).

The Key of Rassilon!

Quoted: Quoted: The Holder of the End Kinda lame, but still kinda creepy late at night. Originally started on 7chan's paranormal image board (7chan is another imageboard like 4chan; don't bother going there, that's where most of the perverts fled to. ). The Key of Rassilon!

Do who with the what now?

SKINWALKERS thread from earlier in the year. Enjoy.

In before Salad Fingers.  

Quoted: In before Salad Fingers.

+1?

Or should that be -1.

What's the matter... all the threads about the collapse of our economy are not creepy enough for you?

Quoted: The Photograph One school day, a boy named Tom was sitting in class and doing math. It was six more minutes until school let out. As he was doing his homework, something caught his eye. His desk was next to the window, and he turned to look outside. It looked liked a Polaroid photo. When the bell rang, he ran to the spot where he saw it. He ran quickly, so no one else would get to it first. He picked it up and smiled. It had a picture of the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She had a dress with tights on and red shoes, and her hand was formed into a peace sign. She was so beautiful he wanted to meet her, so he ran all over the school and asked everyone if they knew her or have ever seen her before. But everyone he asked said "no." He was devastated. When he went home, he asked his older sister if she knew the girl, but unfortunately she also said "no." It was very late, so Tom walked up the stairs, placed the picture on his bedside table, and went to sleep. In the middle of the night, Tom was awakened by a tap on his window. It was like a nail tapping. He got scared. After the tapping he heard a giggle. He saw a shadow near his window, so he got out of his bed, walked toward his window, opened it up and followed the giggling. By the time he reached it, it was gone. He never got a good look, but he could have sworn it was the girl in the photo. The next day, he asked his neighbors if they knew her. Everybody said, "Sorry, no." When his mother came home, he even asked her if she knew her. She said "no." Disappointed, he went to his room, placed the picture on his desk and fell asleep. Once again he was awakened by a tapping. He took the picture and followed the giggling. He started to cross the street when a car came out of nowhere and struck him. He died almost instantly. The driver got out of the car and tried to help him, but it was too late. He noticed a photo in the dead boy's hand and picked it up. He saw a cute girl holding up three fingers.

Ok, that was creepy

Where's TBK, wonder if he's still having problems with the creature in the woods?

Ain't skeered yet.

President Obama.



If anyone was about to go to bed, I'm sorry.

Through the Fog

Back in the early 80’s I worked at an all night gas station close to the Kentucky Dam.  You may have guessed already, that yes, this story takes place during the midnight shift, and it was the same business I worked at when first hearing about what the Beast of LBL had supposedly done to a unsuspecting family while camping between the lake area.  (Scary stories always sound better when they take place at night, but this was not my choice mind you, it just happened this way.)

These incidents happened before and after the knowledge of the Beast, but keep in mind that knowing of a creature that could possibly exist in the surrounding area did not perk my imagination, nor spark hallucinations.  Whether they merely happened by coincidence or by chance, they happened nonetheless.  The following events added to my already established genuine, abiding regard concerning those mysteries that are left undiscovered and unapproachable, out in the dark of night.  To this day I carry a healthy respect for things that go ‘bump’ in the forests, and treat other’s similar stories with the same consideration.

Several times during the midnight hours of my first summer working there I would hear what seemed to be a woman screaming. This echoing sound would come from the marshes that surrounded the gas station and would continue into a slow rolling roar that would have sent chills up the spine of even a deaf man.  Many people told me it was just a bobcat, which had been spotted in the area before and to be cautious when crossing the parking lot to use the restroom, pick up litter or do some general cleaning outside at night.  

I never got used to that lonesome curdling shriek that would erupt the silence of the early mornings.  Sometimes it would come from way off in the distance, out of a line of trees that ran along the borders of a large creek.  Other times it was closer, coming from the blackened swamp areas, and sometimes it was too intimate; like it was just behind the building I was working in at the time.  There was never any warning to its beginnings; the shrillness of the volume would fill the humid air in the summer time and hang on like an eerie floating adhesive, sticking to everything it could adhere too and continue reverberating like the rasps of a beached whale.  When the bellowing outcry was within the boundaries of the parking area it would make my legs shudder and grow weak.  There was no getting use to this animal’s selfish display of needed attention.

What ever it was it could not be seen as the outside light poles only illuminated the four corners of the lot.  The land up to the concrete curbs that squared off the property was lost in the darkness of nature.  From down the road or from the nearby interstate the service station looked like a small four sided box with lights in the corners and a tiny building in the center of the lot.  

The closer the outcries were, the more distinguished the tones and I couldn’t help but compare the sound to what an old biology teacher of mine would do to get the class’s focus at times.  He would take these fist-sized geode rocks that had been busted in half, revealing large protruding crystals from the inside, and scrape them across the blackboard, one in each of his hands.  The ear piercing screeching did not cease until he had run the length of the 8-foot slate. It was a hideous torture to the senses; enough to make your teeth hurt, put Goosebumps on top of Goosebumps and make you squeeze your bladder in while a trembling of microscopic marbles shot up your spine.  The effect left everyone in a quivering state on the verge of momentary lunacy.  Besides being quite deafening, it produced separate tones of raucous discord; some crystals formed a variety of high-pitched abrasive sounds while the larger ones created cantankerous, lower, gravely vibrations.  All of them mixed together in some insane symphony.  This was the sound that the unseen animal in the marshes would broadcast through the stifling heat of the summer nights.  

Its secret invisible visits happened with great frequency at first and then the events would die down and then disappear all together, not revealing its intolerable cries for months at a time.  The next spring it started up again, but further away this time in another section of fields that lay beyond the marshlands and closer to a government tree farm.  It wasn’t long after it made its presence known again that the two officers came into the station with the tale of the campers found torn to pieces in LBL.  

Myself, having been born and bred in a large city up north, did not want to fancy the notion of the alleged ‘beast’ being a Bigfoot or a werewolf, but fashioned my opinion around more logical explanations; bobcat, bear or wolves.  Blaming an unknown hairy creature in the forests for being the culprit was not a fathomable answer to someone who grew up in the concrete and steel jungles around ‘real monsters’ called murderers and rapists.  Even though several years prior while visiting one summer in Kentucky, not far from the Kentucky Dam at my aunts house, there was an encounter with a very unexplainable life form that knocked my ‘logical thinking’ into the ground.  This particular event left me more confused then afraid and I had to change my way of perceiving certain ‘hairy beast legends’ in a new light.  But that is another story.

Nonetheless, the idea of a bobcat, beast or a stereotype movie monster, doing that amount of damage to a human being sparked my uneasiness over hearing a possible relative lurking in the shadows around me where I worked.  Besides, I knew that the typical murderer or rapist usually didn’t give out a war cry quite as unnerving as this one did, so I knew it had to be in the animal category of the food chain.  (Speaking of the food chain…isn’t it ironic that even though we as humans think of ourselves as at the top of the chain, we still fear that which is below us? Not much to brag about is there?  Hmm…)

Summer passed with the occasional screeching howls in the background of the quagmires.  They would still send me into an instance of cowardice and anxiety but knowing the being was so far away gave me a hollow sense of security.  It wasn’t until the late autumn, when the thick fogs began rolling in off the boggy mires, that a foreboding panic would invade me to the very marrow of my bones and create within me a lasting impression of authentic terror.

I had somehow made my way through the dense mist, mostly by memory alone, to the restrooms that were on the back of the lot to replenish the supplies and do some regular cleaning.  Because the weather made it impossible for travelers to drive and see at the same time more then a few feet in front of them, I saw it as a great opportunity to get some work done knowing I would have very few customers if any.  

It was well into the early morning, around three AM, and I was inside the women’s restroom slinging a mop when I heard a new sound, very different from the one of the bobcats.  This one was like someone was riding a bike outside that had playing cards attached to the wheel spokes with clothespins along with balloons rubbing along the same turning tires; riding slowing, methodically, creating a sort of rough clicking growl.  ‘Maybe it’s a car with a really bad muffler’, I thought to myself, wondering how it had found it’s way through the lot, or even found the drive way for that matter.  
Just as I was putting the mop into the bucket to squeeze it through the wringer that old familiar scream was heard once more.  Right outside the small building I was presently in at the time.  The bucket turned over from the jerk I gave the mop after being startled over hearing the animal at such a close range.  The bleach from the spilled water climbed through the air and stung my eyes but I couldn’t blink, couldn’t move any part of my body at the time; I just stood there staring at the door, waiting, listening.  

The beating of my heart seemed so loud I thought that the animal outside might hear it.  I really wasn’t aware of how much time had passed as I kept that paralyzed stance, trembling as if freezing from a wintry breeze.  After awhile of listening to it’s grumbling low stifled growls outside the door I heard a police siren in the background, coming from the road.  I could tell the vehicle was going at a slow pace, and I could just imagine it trying to creep through the cloudy atmosphere towards an accident no doubt. The animal’s commotion ceased from the other side of the door and all went quiet except for the wailing of the sirens that seemed to be coming directly from across the station out on the road.  

A few more moments later I heard another scream from the same animal but this time it was further away, like it had retreated back into the wet bogs.  This was my queue to get the ‘hell out of Dodge’ and back inside the safety of the front office building.  Hastily I mopped up the mess on the floor, grabbed all the cleaning stuff and made my way back through the thickened clouds using my internal compass to the main building, locking the door behind me.  The police car was still going down the road but it’s sirens seemed further away by now.  

About thirty minutes later, after calming down a bit from the encounter and while taking some inventory I saw a shadow from the corner of my eye run past one of the windows.  It shook me up a bit and I turned to

concentrate on any more movement from outside.  Again the shadow ran past but this time in front of another window.  The building I was in was surrounded by three sides of glass windows, and was actually quite small compared to other gas stations.  It was all self-serve and there were no garages attached.  There was room inside for a few candy racks and a couple of large coolers to keep sodas and sandwiches in.  There was also a back storage room but it was more of a walk in closet size, and then there was the cubicle up front surrounded by bullet proof glass where we conducted all the money transactions and stored cigarettes.

The shadow was very tall, way taller then the average man and was rather large in stature and moved in a bouncing motion as a man of sizeable bulk would move when trying to jog, and it appeared to have a coat on or at least something bulky.  I heard a trash can turn over, heard the debris scatter across the concrete, (empty glass soda bottles, used oil cans and the rattling of other things) then heard the same can crash into one of the gas pumps outside as if something had picked it up and hurled it.  This was no bobcat.  This was someone having some fun outside at my expense.  

Anger began growing within me as I was thinking that this was not a very humorous practical joke and I actually yelled out loud my dislike of the whole scenario, “This isn’t funny you @$$#&*%!!”  Laying my clipboard down on the counter I began looking out the windows straining to see the mischief-maker again, all the while double-checking to make sure the doors were locked. (It was standard procedure to lock the doors after 10 PM and serve the customers through a sliding drawer, much like a bank tellers at a drive through service lane, inside the bulletproof cubicle.)  While peering through the middle window, that same methodic grumbly growl introduced itself once more from outside.  I was momentarily confused, ‘Was the bobcat back? Could the idiot outside hear it? Was there danger in store for the stranger who was trying to tease and terrorize me?’  

The grumbling sound traveled around the corner to the back end and then the building shook from a massive hit to a wall.  I could hear some stored items fall off their shelves and deposit themselves all over the floor in the storage room. There were no windows in the storage area, thank goodness, but there was a back door.  I raced back there and started stacking cases of soda and boxes of oil against it to secure it even more.  There was a low mumbling on the other side of the door and the sound came from up high; what seemed like around the top of the doorframe.  A low and deep toned breathing could be heard also as I just stood dumbfounded staring at the grayish brown steel door.  Two deliberate solid ‘thumps’ met with the door from the other side like someone who had just pounded on it with their fists and along with it came that unceremonious squall.  

‘This was no bobcat!  Nor was it some intimidating prankster!’ my mind screamed.  In those few seconds a parade of memories sped through my brain, each of them crashing into one another as they raced to the finish line to see who would win, sanity or insanity.  The image of an upright wolf like creature that I had seen years before at my aunt’s house, howling on top of the hill, was fighting for position with an overly large bobcat, and then the vision of a Bigfoot was lumbering along side of them.  All the words from the two officers stories from a few months before echoed inside my head as these pictures within me created a macabre movie.   Dizziness overtook me and I fell backwards onto some other cases of stacked sodas.  

I remained there for the longest time, not knowing what to expect next, not really wanting to know actually and definitely not wanting to go back into the other part of the building where I or ‘IT’ could possibly get a better look at each other through one of the many windows.  That terrifying thought was brewing when through the open door facing one of the candy racks I could see a shadow moving along the right side of the building, slowly through the fog. It was like not having your glasses on and trying to make out what something looked like through the entire blur of an unfocused silhouette.  

Then briefly, ever so quickly a considerably large hand materialized and reached out from its secret form in the mist and touched the window.  My first thought was ‘gorilla’, as in just that glimpse I saw the darkened nails, the blackish brown leathery skin, along with long dark hair hanging from behind the knuckles, spreading up the wrist, and up part of the arm that seemed to be floating in the whiteness of the fog.  Then it was gone, replacing the horrifying scene with silence for the remainder of the morning.

I dared not move, or maybe I didn’t think I was actually capable of motion, either way, I remained on the stack of sodas for the few hours I had left on my shift.  About an hour before the next crewmember was due to arrive the newly dawned sun began burning off the fog, making it retreat back into the marshes, back into the pores of the earth, like the ghosts of the undead.   It was only then that I cautiously made my way outside and cleaned up the mess from the thrown trash receptacle.  My mind was still trying to rationally explain the hours before but unconsciously I had already decided that the events would remain hidden within my memory, never to be discussed, only to stay buried under the clouds of my own inscrutable mystical fog.  

That decision did not last very long as within a few weeks I had transferred to the afternoon shift, with a new guy taking the midnight shift.  (Thank goodness for seniority…smile.)  It wasn’t a few days later after this change that the new guy started telling me about the ‘sounds and howling’ he would hear from the night before.  I re-assured him it was probably just a bobcat, and his reply was, “Yeah, right.  I’ve lived around here all my life and I never heard no bobcat ever sound like that!”  It was then we struck up a conversation about local Bigfoot stories and I then confessed as to what I had experienced a month prior.  Needless to say, it totally freaked him out and he started having a friend come up and keep him company during the midnight hours.  He never actually saw anything but the squalls would continue every so often about once a week and then it died out all together by the time winter rolled around.

I believe that in these days and times of the world, that the ridicule endured for these types of witnessing tales is not as straining as it use to be. It is acceptable now for people to come forward and tell of things they have seen or heard that are completely foreign to a logical explanation. The truth is out there, and most of us know it or have witnessed something to help substantiate the basis for the truth to be honestly believed.

-Jan Thompson.

Wow.Im assuming the lack of further posts shows that we all know who the winner is.

Tag...



I'd like to see some more that's for sure....

Quoted:
The Photograph

One school day, a boy named Tom was sitting in class and doing math. It was six more minutes until school let out. As he was doing his homework, something caught his eye.

hee,hee! That was neat Swindle!

Quoted: Quoted: The Photograph One school day, a boy named Tom was sitting in class and doing math. It was six more minutes until school let out. As he was doing his homework, something caught his eye. hee,hee! That was neat Swindle!

I can't claim credit for writing it. I did rewrite it somewhat because the original author had TERRIBLE grammar and had no idea how to make a compound sentence, but I just fixed it; I didn't write it myself.

I'll be transplanting some of the better stories from the Skinwalkers thread. I hope the Cow Man story is in there somewhere. It should be.

Quoted: The Holder of the End Kinda lame, but still kinda creepy late at night. Originally started on 7chan's paranormal image board (7chan is another imageboard like 4chan; don't bother going there, that's where most of the perverts fled to. ).

Is that from a TV show or something?

Taggaroo

Quoted: Quoted: The Holder of the End Kinda lame, but still kinda creepy late at night. Originally started on 7chan's paranormal image board (7chan is another imageboard like 4chan; don't bother going there, that's where most of the perverts fled to. ). Is that from a TV show or something?

So far as I can tell, it's ripped off from a short story some guy wrote that got turned into a mini-series a year or two ago. Beyond magic objects that do something when you get them all together, there's no relation.

Special thanks to Dusty_C for retrieving these from the original skinwalkers thread:

Originally posted by The_beer_slayer the house i am in is on old indian land. we have several burial mounds in the woods around this area. The old man across the street told me not to hike the woods at night. He had seen something back there years ago and refuses to go into the woods at all now. I pretty much blew that off as BS. a couple of years ago we had some freinds over and were talking about it. Decided to load up and make a walk through the woods. As you round the curve to head into the woods the temp droped atleast 5 degrees on an otherwise warm night. we began to walk in the woods and a few meters in we heard something LARGE not far away. I figured it was a dog or a coyote but the fotsteps sounded heay. we decided after a bit to leave and heard the "dog" following us out. one of my guys spotted 2 orange eyes about 6' high in the tree line just up the trail. we al lit up the trail with surefires and nothing was there. as we began to walk we heard footsteps in that exact area we just lit up. what ever it was followed us all the way back to my house. I have a rtee line about 75meters from my back yard and we could here it moving down there. the line is only about 8' thick so ifigured i would walk down and see. Saw 2 orage eyes again about 30 feet from me as i approache the tree line. lit it up and found nothing. as i left the tree line i could here whatever it was leaving the area. not long after i took Scaryguy back there on a bigfoot hunt. He had a simialr experience that night. He won't go back there anymore either. i have no idea what it was but they were definantly eye refelections i and other saw. It's either VERY good at hiding in no cover or can vanish at will. Originally posted by Frank_Symptoms This would explain my own sighting. I was out in the Mojave Desert, NE of Edwards AFB about 3 years ago. I was playing with a new night-vision toy. I saw a couple of lights, as you say, about 6' off the ground... looked like eyes... I could only see them when I turned on the IR feature of the NV optic. They were far enough away that they were just at the effective range of the NV optic. And nothing was there when I put a high-power light on the area! (10k handheld light, not just a flashlight.) I bugged out fast. One of my clients and pretty good friends has a customer whose father in law is alleged to have been reduced to a neurotic child by a terrifying SQ encounter. I have spoken to the son in law once, but "Pop" is extremely resistant to talk to anyone outside his family. I know who Pop is because he is very accomplished in a mechanical field that I'm very interested in, but I've never dealt with him. His overall reputation as a person is stellar on a bad day. Pop loved to hunt. To avoid divorce, when he neared early retirement he and wife got some land in Smith County, TX so he could hunt often without all the disruption of taking expeditions all over the place. That satisfied wifey and he hoped to retire in peace. Last November he was in his very nice north-facing custom deer stand on his land about 1,500 feet from the house when he heard steps coming from the south. Once the steps got about 50' away he barked out a trespassing warning to leave and never come back. He could not see behind him because the stand is mounted on a very large tree. The steps stopped, then in 4 quick strides the creature appeared just to the side of the tree, slightly forward of it, and spun around and looked right at him. Pop started screaming and this upset the creature, which screamed too and approached the stand and JUMPED UP, trying to reach him or grab the bottom of the stand (15' up to bottom) and pull the whole thing down. Once he got his wits a little assembled, he went on the defensive and leaned up to donate a .270 round to the animal, but he was so scared that he dropped his gun over the rail, which threw him into a panic. The SQ had already touched the bottom of the stand with two jumps and he felt his life was in extreme danger. Survival mode kicked in hard and he went for the only weapon he could think of - cans of iced tea! Right as he leaned down to open the cooler and snatch a can of tea, the SQ backed up a few steps and Pop believed the SQ was about to get a running start so it could jump higher and get him out of the tree (I think it's possible that it wanted to keep Pop in sight - the front of the stand was solid and covered with brush for camo - he bent down to open the cooler and the SQ backed up to keep him in view - just a theory). Pop sprang up and whaled a can of tea as hard as he could at the SQ and nailed it square in the upper face, which made it double over and groan loudly, hands over face. It seemed dizzy and surprised. Then Pop poured the ice and water from the cooler on it, and that wigged it out in grand fashion. Just as he followed by throwing the cooler at it (missed) too, it tore off to a nearby treeline by the creek and watched him through a crook in a tree, rocking side-to-side. Right then Pop was just about bowled over by the realization that he had his Colt 1911 with him in his backpack. He dug the gun out of the bottom of the bag, aimed at the creature's head and fired. Nothing happened - he didn't have one up the snout. So he then racked the slide and right then the thing took off into the brush to the north and crossed the creek shortly after being out of site. He got off one shot and is certain he missed by a wide margin. Pop waited a short while and dismounted the stand to return home. He was white as a sheet and crying when he got there, and it was the first time in 32 years his wife had seen him cry, or even noticeably scared. Since then he will not hunt, will not penetrate the treeline around the house, and will not even leave the patio after sunset. Here's the kicker - a couple of weeks ago Pop's truck broke down on the thickly wooded private dirt road leading from the FM to the house. He was stranded in the middle of a sunny afternoon about 700 feet from the house. Instead of walking home, he shut himself in the truck and kept calling people on his cell phone until he found someone to come and get him for the 20 second car ride to the house! His son in law received a hysterical voice mail message of Pop, sobbing, begging for him to come help, so the guy had to drive all the way from Nacadoches to give a hardened combat veteran and lifelong adventurous outdoorsman a very short ride from the front yard to the front door. And Pop had a .44 magnum Colt Python on him, which he now always has with him. There were also some items missing from the site, but I've not gotten enough of a detailed account of that yet. It's my understanding that the rifle and can of tea are unaccounted for, but I'll clear that up on the follow up contact that is to occur Monday (I badly hope). There have been some other curious incidents, but nothing like terror in the tree stand. Hopefully I can gain access to the land. The family is urging him to at least talk to someone who knows about these animals. If I can gain an inroad, I'll be headed out there soon, since it's very close to home. Originally posted by muddydog hear ya go...FELLAS... my great grandmother ( who some have read about on previous posts.) was a half breed cherokee born in indian territory around Gowan Oklahoma. her mother was a cherokee medicine woman. my "Nana" was taken from her family along with her sisters to a school in Kansas to keep her away from her family and to "civilize her" for the good of amerika. she was a devout Baptist but she was very adamant that we never deal with the "Black Magic" that some medicine men and women practice. i am aware of of several practioners of this in 4 tribes rigth off the bat. Cherokee, Choctaw, Creek and Delaware. my Nana told me a story about a man who had killed another man back in the early days of Oklahoma. when the dog soldiers went to arrest him, they found no one at his homestead. on the way back to town a short distance down the road from the homestead a grey wolf came out of the woods and walked beside the dog soldiers all the way back to town. this is quite odd..since the horses and mules that the dog soldiers were riding, DID NOT SPOOK.. and were quite calm.. when the dog soldiers and the wolf got to town..the wolf stopped..and watched them walk away into town and the wolf started back to where it ame from. several times later the dog soldiers and other law enforcement for the area went looking for this guy at his place..and every time..a grey wolf came into view.. they never found the guy???? but a wolf was always nearby after the incident..and later on a family member of the guy told several people that the man had paid a shaman to turn him into a wolf to avoid hanging or a firing squad. here is something that i am familiar with..i have talked to several LEO's who worked the case and were involved and have talked to several OLD SCHOOL cherokees who lived in the area. back when i was abotu 9 or 10..we had a incident in Locust Grove Oklahoma called the Girl Scout Murders, i am at work right now and cant google or yahoo a link .. but you can find it yourself by typing in Oklahoma Girl Scout Murders. i wanna say 4 girls were sexually assaulted and murdered on a camp out at a girl scout camp in Locust grove. a local Cherokee by the name a Gene leroy Hart was implicated..( why??) he was an easy target for prosecution i guess. he has a criminal history and in the area. word on the street was that when he was first thought to be a suspect he went to a black magic shaman and asked for help. the shaman told him when they come for you to undress and go sit down at the the base of the large OAK TREE. while you are undressed and sitting..to hold up a oak leaf in front of your face and that he would be blessed invisable. i have talked to 2 LEOS personally..who were involved in the first search for him as well as numerous other LEOs who had connections. they all stated that every inch of his property was searched and he was not found there. they finally caught GLH..when he was caught..he carried on a conversation with the LEOS about them walking right past him while he was sitting in his back yard.. he was adament that a LEO walked 3 feet from him he even knew the officer and named the officer to the other LEO.. GLH stated he was nude and holding a leaf in front of his face. GLH was found no to have committed this crime but was sentenced to OSP ( in m hometown) for another crime. he died of a heart attack while jogging in the yard. the girl scout killer (s) were never found. it is one of the darker cases in Oklahoma history. i work with a full blood creek ( an older woman) and she is adamant that Black Magic Shamans can get anything done..and that it is BAD MOJO.. i actually was going to have someone hexed one time..haha and she wouldnt let me. Originally posted by Muddydog when i was doing bear research in college, we were called out to a area near a national forest to investigate what they thought was a Blue Tongue outbreak on the local deer herd. this was due to the finding of a large number of dead deer that were found. when we got there and started looking around we found 17 deer in various states of mortem, in a group in an area of about 15 yards in around. almost stacked up, some laying on each other. no drag marks, leading into it..no hair or blood trails. NO EVIDENCE of scavengers..even on the ones that seemed to have been there the longest. some deer had broken legs, a few had strange looking wounds around the necks..contortion or blunt trauma. no evidence of GSW or snares. no sign of normal human activity as this was very distanct, rough country. the fact that the cache was found was only to due a marker for a timber company roaming the country marking trees for future cutting. we drew blood and got some tissue samples on a few and left. the group of us consisted of 3 guys and a chica..myself and another guy were very experienced woodsmen and hunters and very familiar with the area and tried not to let on just how strange it was and the fact that we needed to leave the area.. funny i always looked back ..because when our professor told us about the situation and where to go to..he had a strange look on his face and pulled me aside and told me to make sure i took a bear gun along. he actually grew up in that area and was intimate with it. he point blank told me that there was a chance we could run into something odd..and not to stay in there too long. he never mentioned what..but he did tell me to pay attention . Originally posted by Psyops4fun The customs and beliefs of the Southeastern peoples is very different than that of the Western tribes such as the Navajo. People think that all Indians are the same. No more so that all Europeans, from Albanians to English. Different religions, lifestyles, languages and cultures. The southeastern moundbuilding peoples were agricultural as very advanced compared to the western nomadic hunters. For a period of time the moundbuilders' art took a morbid turn, which is now called by names such as the Mississippian Death Cult, Southern Buzzard Cult, etc. If you take an interest in your local history, you can research those phrases. One difference from the western tribes, is that out west there are believed to be "skinwalkers", and yes, they are "bad"... that is bad people, bad witchcraft going on. The southern peoples have "shapeshifters" which are not necessarily bad; more of a spiritual gift of being able to transform into an animal's form. No I am not necessarily a "believer" in such things. Nor am I a disbeliever. I too have had the "atmospheric change" experience at mounds, but it was more "delicious" than scary. Perhaps because I was a decendant come visiting instead of an outsider come intruding, at least in my mindset if nothing else. You will probably feel better going out into those woods if you will bury a bit of tobacco in the ground at the edge of the woods before going in, and softly mutter an apology for intruding. If you take down a deer or other game there, bury a piece of the meat there before leaving. It would be interesting for you to contact the archeology dept of the university which excavated the mounds and swap stories. Originally posted by Shane333 OK, two of my dad's experiences. I've mentioned these a before over the past year, so I apologize to anyone for the dupe. Background: Dad was an LDS Missionary on the Navajo reservation in the Four Corners area. He has some great stories of experiences that were interesting but not supernatural, but at least twice he had close encounters with persons/beings he believed to have been skinwalkers. The first event occured while Dad and his missionary companion were studying scriptures in their trailer. They'd rented a trailer from a Navajo who had later gotten into trouble with the law (drugs or something) and this guy spent a little time in jail. So Dad and his companion are in the trailer studying their scriptures, sitting just a couple of yards from eachother, when Dad suddenly notices a strange older Navajo man standing right in front of him! Dad hadn't seen him enter and had no idea how the man had got there. So the old creepy Navajo asks (in Navajo), "where is my son *******." Dad, completely surprised simply replied, "he's not here." Afraid to upset this old man, Dad conveniently left out the little fact that the son was in the jail at the time. Dad looked over at his companion, who was also staring in shock at the old Navajo. When he looked back, the old man was gone! He was there one moment and was simply gone the next blink of an eye. Dad and his companion jumped to their feet and searched the trailer. The door was locked and the windows shut. There was simply no way to get in and out without being noticed. Asking around afterwards, Dad heard something about the trailer-owner's dad being involved in black magic, but that was all any of the locals would say. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Another time with a different missionary companion: Dad and his companion were headed home in their jeep at night between 9 and 10 pm. I'm not sure if you're familiar with southeast Utah/North-east Arizona, but you can find some real interesting rock and valley formations. Anyway, Dad was driving on a dirt road and they headed through a little valley on their way home. The valley was known for having some ceremonial significance to the Navajo. Dad's companion is napping in the passenger seat. As they get to the middle of the valley the jeep goes dead and rolls to a stop. I mean there are no lights, no electricity, no power at all. The jeep simply dies and stops. Dad works on getting the jeep to start for a few moments when he notices several dark shapes approaching and encircling the car at a small distance, swaying and moaning something. Scared, Dad reaches over and shakes his companion to wake him. No matter how hard Dad shakes him, his companion won't wake up. The encircling dark shapes are now getting closer. Completely terrified now, Dad does the only thing he can: pray, and pray hard! Suddenly the electricity and lights are back on the jeep. The moment the headlights came back on, the dark shapes were gone without a trace. Dad then starts the engine and floors it out of the valley. Now the companion wakes up and wants to know why they're speeding, because he'd slept through the entire episode. My dad has always been absolutely honest, so I have to believe that he wasn't lying about these stories. I work with a Navajo co-worker, and once told her about my dad's experiences. She said that they're totally consistent with what she knows about skinwalkers. I asked her if she could tell me any more about them, and she outright refused. In fact, I got the impression that if I pushed the topic I'd be on thin ice with her. All she'd say, regarding skinwalkers, is that, "there are very real evil things in the world." Originally posted by axmurderer Not a great story, but I had something strange happen to me once. About 8 miles west of a little town called Edwards, here in Mississippi, is a place where my dad and I used to fish. The Big Black river runs past the old Hwy 80 there, and there is an old railroad tressell over the river. We used to set out trout lines (my dad called them trot-lines) and spend the night there checking the lines occasionally. Its a spooky place to begin with, especially at night. The old tressell is a massive arched bridge that is still in use, but looks very old. The remains of an even older bridge can be seen just downstream. I've seen more snakes in that river than anywhere I've fished. Anyway, my brother and a mutual friend and I were drinking one night many years ago when I was young and crazy (I no longer drink - or especially drink and drive) and we had nothing to do and decided to ride out to the tressell. It was probably getting close to midnight as we got to the river. There was a full moon and after our eyes adjusted to the dark, we could at least see a little bit. We climbed up the tressell, which is about 50 feet up, and walked out over the river. There was noone else there, and the nearest house was about a mile back down the gravel road. I forget what I was doing when my friend said "what was that?". I noticed he was serious, which was unlike him, so I started looking in the direction he was. He was looking at the river. Just as I was wondering what he was looking at ..... SPLASH!! something like a large rock hit the water. For a moment I just knew I was being screwed with, and that it was a setup, and I waited for the laughing, but my brother and friend were just staring at the river same as me. From our position over the river, the moon was reflected directly in the water. Just as I had my attention focused on the reflection of the moon, SPLASH another LARGE rock hit the water breaking the reflection. Now I knew my friends weren't joking with me as we were all together and it wasn't one of us throwing the rocks. We were too far away and it was a big rock hitting the water. I now became painfully aware that I was unarmed. All of us were thouroghly familiar with, and owned, guns, but none of us had brought anything but damned pocket knives. I cursed myself for not bringing my 38super, and searched the river banks intently but could see only dim undergrowth. I thought surely someone was messing with us, but whoever it was must have been able to navigate the snakey river bank in complete darkness, and was hiding in the undergrowth somewhere. The thought of someone crazy enough to do that had me in a bit of concern as well. I decided that I needed to get the hell out of there. We climbed back down the bank to the road, me with my knife out, and got back to the car. I turned to shine the headlights around the far river bank, but we never saw a thing, and left. We have talked it a few times since, and we feel that some hillbilly must have been screwing with us, but it must have been a fearless damned hillbilly to be on that river at night with no light. I knew about 3 miles of that river like the back of my hand, and I would have had trouble doing whatever "it" did there at night. sorry it wasn't better.... over and out.... Quoted: Okay, talked to my Hopi buddy tongiht for a few minutes and got a bit of more "direct" info. Here's the deal: Skinwalkers are, by definition SPECIFICALLY WITCHES OR BLACK MAGICIANS. They have various abilities including the ability to appear or disappear, run like the wind, shape shift, cast spells, etc. They are regarded as EXTREMELY dangerous people. Most importantly, they are NOT regarded as Medicine men...in fact it is rather offensive to relate the two. Medicine men are healing practicioners and use various methods for the purposes of healing from natural medicine to spiritual medicine. Though medicine men CAN be very powerful and can also perform feats of magic, their purpose is for the good of the members of the tribe or the person they are healing. I have a great medicine man story that D. is going to relate to me in more detail tomorrow. I heard a bit of it tonight but the work kicked in and we got busy with that....so I hope to be able to relate the story tomorrow. It's pretty cool.... Originally posted by M60G Okay, here goes. Back in 1989 I was growing up in OR. A friend and I were out one evening deer hunting. We were in the middle of a hay field. The hay was probably four feet tall so we could sit and observe these apple trees at the far end without being seen. We had at least 200yds of open field between us and any fence. So nothing was going to sneak up on us unawares. We had been sitting there awhile, and the sun had just about gone down. The western edge of the field was very nicely siloueted. Well, we started hearing strange sounds. The strangest was that it sounded as if someone was blowing through a flute yet only playing one note. It became louder and louder untill it sounded as if someone was right next to you. But there was no one in that field but my friend and I. The next thing that happened was that the temperature dropped instantly. We looked at each other and kind of snickered, like WTF is going on. The next few minutes gets a little crazy. I'm watching the deer at the far end of the field. I can just make them out with the light thats left. My buddy says "hey, Look at this". Off to our left on the Western edge of the field, we see something moving through the grass. It's back was just above the grass. We thought at first it was a large dog, maybe even a black bear. That is until it stood up and started sniffing the air. We can't really tell what it is but we could definately see its siloute perfectly. Any way, it sniffs and turns toward us. It drops back down on all fours and begins heading our way. It was about 150 yds from us when it started moving towards us. We were starting to get pretty freaked out right about now. When all of a sudden it stood up on its hind legs about 75yds from us. I'll never forget what I thought at that moment. Before anyone jumps on me for this let me say I know these don't exist I'm only using it as a description because that is kind of what it looked like. It looked like what you would expect a werewolf to look like. Like I said I know they do not exist but that is what I thought of when I saw it stand up. Well anyway, it breaks into a run at us on its hind legs. I yell FUCK THIS! I'm OUT. My buddy is right behind me. We run for all were worth and hurdle the fence at the bottom of the field. We run another 50yds or so to the truck and look back. Whatever this thing is, it is sitting on top of a huge stump that the fence was connected to. It never follwed us over the fence. We jumped in the truck and hauled ass back to his house. His parents could tell something was wrong because we were as white as sheets. We told our story and they just laughed it off. The next couple of days my friend and I do not go hunting. But then my friend gets kind of pissed at himself for being scared off. So he talks me into going out again only this time up higher in the MTS. passed this field. We hunt all morning and come noon we stop on the side of this hill to eat our lunch. My friend puts his hand down and says "WTF" and when he lifts his hand up it is covered in blood. We say o.k. a deer is probably down somewhere. So we follow this blood trail we've just discoverd. It leads us into the woods and to a clearing. In the clearing was a mass of bones. I mean bones everywhere even hanging out of the trees. The deer or whats left of it is in the clearing. We look at each other and say Fuck This. We start heading back down the MT. All the way down it was as if something was follwoing us and watching. Only nothing appeared this day. This area is a strange place to begin with. Even folks who don't know our story say it gives them the creeps to be out there. Not alot of people will hunt it. People that didn't believe us, we would take out there. Everytime the same sounds could be heard such as the flute I described. They would be the first one back to the vehicle. I never again saw anything out there again but I have since experianced the drops in temperature. I always leave when that happens. The last time I experienced it was at my friends house whose land borders this strange area. i took his 1/2 sheperd 1/2 wolf dog for a walk one night while we were having a party at my friends. We got close to the fence where the other property starts and the temp suddenly dropped. "Whitey" his dog lowered his ears and started to growl and show those teeth. I said 'I'm with you, lets get the hell back to the house." Told my freind what happened. We just kind of smiled and said Fuck It.. Thats probably the craziest thing that has happened to me on a paranormal scale. I have seen UFO's a few times but who knows what the fuck they are and they weren't chasing me. Some people ask why we didn't shoot it since we had our rifles. Since we didn't know exactly what it was we decided against shooting, just in case it was a PERSON. I know one thing, it scared the holy hell out of me, and I have never been back alone. Originally posted by Desertmoon Okay guys, it's BONUS DAY!!! I have TWO stories from Hopi Indian Territory today!!!! One is a bout a very powerful Medicine Man...and the other.....IS ABOUT A SKINWALKER!!! ( and there's a bit of a "twist" to it ) Both are related to me by a Hopi/Navajo friend of mine who's mother was a practicing Hopi. In other words she followed the Old Ways. She has since converted to Christianity. Here is the story from back in the days when she was still practicing the old religion. A particular family was having a run of bad luck, sickness and trouble. At some point things got bad enough they called a Medicine Man in to help the family and heal them or define the source of the trouble they were having. The Medicine Man, the family and some tribal elders got together to perform a series of rituals to help the family out. In one ritual the Medicine Man, among other things adorned himself with bear ornaments including bear claws and such. From what I gather the ritual was to invoke the spirit of the Bear in order to "sniff out" the source of the trouble. This is ONLY WHAT I GATHER, I am not entirely sure. Anyhow, as the ritual began, the Medicine Man specifically forewarned everone that if he "ran off" during the ceremony that everyone was to scream and jump and wave and call him back so that he would not end up "getting lost". The ceremony begins and after much work ( any of you who have witnessed or partaken in Native American ceremonies knows how long this can take ) the Medicine Man "CHANGED" IN FRONT OF THE EYES OF EVERYONE PRESENT. My friend's mother SWEARS this occurred right before her eyes. Now, he did not change into a "bear" per se...but more like a "were-animal"....a "were-bear" as it were. ( Note the previous story about the "were-wolf" creature that one of our posters ran into ) The "changed Medicine man" the proceeded to jump straight up, runs off and then RUNS UP THE SIDE OF THE FAMILY'S HOUSE, screaming, growling and carrying on....he then proceeds to tear a huge hole into the roof from the house. After he has done that he literally runs straight off of the roof and takes off past everyone, literally flying by the astonished group. He runs so quickly that it is difficult to see him...as he is running off into the desert, everyone present finally remembers to holler and scream for him to come back...which he finally does. By the time he returns he is back to normal and rather exhausted. From what I understand, at a later time one of the members of the family found items akin to "totemic" curse items in the attic and it is supposed that someone with a beef against the family had those items placed in the "attic" or somewhere on the roof of the house, hence the Medicine man tearing up the side of the house and going for the roof. NOTE: in this instance, it is the Medicine man who shifts, though not "completely", in order to help the family discover the SOURCE of their troubles. Remember, a Medicine Man is NOT a Skinwalker. NOW, let's talk about skin walkers. Skinwalkers are specifically associated with Black Magicians or Witches. They are practicioners of the Black Arts and are normally shunned in the same way Witches are shunned by Christians, Muslims and Jews. My friends Uncle was patrolling their cattle ranch lands in Navajo Territory. As usual, this was done on horseback( as long as the Navajo have been using horses, anyhow ) as it has been done for ages . At one point my friends Uncle witnessed a very large dog running across his field of view. The dog ran behind a section of scrub and didn't come out the other side. Curious, the Uncle rides up to the section of scrub to investigate this dog, possibly feral and therefore trouble. What he finds instead is a WOMAN, nude EXCEPT for being adorned in silver and torquise necklaces and jewelry.... He was stunned to silence. The woman however spoke and adjured to him to speak of the incident to no one lest he die. I am assuming she meant the locals and the tribe, of course. I am also assuming he didn't tell this tale until years and years had passed. In this case we have an incident of actual shapeshifting and a specific warning to the witness to keep his mouth shut. A Medicine Man or Woman has nothing to hide from the tribe as their powers are a valued asset....a Witch on the other hand....

Again, special thanks to Dusty for preserving these.

Originally posted by Psyops4fun An Oklahoma Cherokee story about a ghostly dog, written down in 1938: "The Ghostly Dog" An Interview with Shorey Ross By Hattie Turner, Wagoner, Oklahoma Park Hill, Oklahoma, April 9, 1938 Taken from the Indian-Pioneer History Collection, Grant Foreman, editor In the early-day Park Hill locality an extensive colony of strange and ghostly things had their headquarters. Pioneers used to relate many hair-raising stories concerning their encounters with the ghosts, haunts, or spirits, as they were designated. One of such stories is her given: There was a fine young man named Reese Roebuck, who clerked in a store near the Murrell home. This man had a sweetie who lived a mile or so down the Park Hill Creek. At intervals the young man walked to the girl's home after his day's tasks were completed, spent several pleasant hours, and then walked back to his quarters. It was on a beautiful night in late October. The skies were cloudless, the atmosphere chill and bracing, when Reese Roebuck walked along the narrow trail beside the stream, on his return from the young lady's home. Walking briskly, Roebuck whistled a gay tune and soon was half way home, but at a turn in the trail he saw sitting in dejected attitude, in the center of the path, a large black dog—so it seemed to be—with a big white spot in the center of its breast. The dog paid no attention to Roebuck, who shouted to the supposed canine to be gone. Roebuck then threw stones, which apparently passed completely through the body of the animal, which continued to sit motionless. Impatient, Roebuck now drew his pistol and fired upon the dog—and then something occurred which was altogether out of the ordinary. The dog abruptly sprang upward. It mounted into the air, arose with rapidity, uttering all the while the most mournful wails and shrieks ever heard by mortal ears. In a brief space of time the dog disappeared in the sky, and all the while the moonlight streamed down in silvery luster. Reese Roebuck suddenly felt very ill, weak and tottery. His limbs could scarcely bear his weight. Cold chills chased themselves up and down his spinal column, succeeded by hot streaks. Finally the young man reached his room and he went to bed. A raging fever devoured his strength. Medical aid proved worse than useless. Nine days from the time he fired upon the unearthly dog he breathed his last. His grave lies in one of the old burying grounds of the Park Hill locality. Originally posted by Snarffbatt As the Step-son of a Cherokee from Delaware county Ok. I do believe in the spirits. My Step-father was a good well educated man, who held onto many of the "old ways" . Of Black magic he always told me to stay as far away from them as possible. Not a skinwalker story but still creepy enough. Near my home is a large mound complex (Angle Mounds State Site) This is of the early Mississippi type and many "digs" have been conducted there by Indiana University. A few years back I had became a EMT and volunteered at the mound site for a Native American festival, helping with first aid for attendees. While hanging out at the tent waiting for some to ask for assistance a old Indian man walked up to me and spoke. He was kind and soft spoken and thanked me for being there to help on this wonderful day. Then he turned to me and said "I know why you are here, you are a seer (one who See's) It is good. Oh and say hello to your father for me" He had given me a name and then he walked off toward the area of the trees. When I got home that night I told my step dad about the visitor and told him the name, I thought my step dad was going to fall over and pass out. The name given was something like NaGaWeShu or something like that. After several minutes my step dad relayed to me that I had been paid a visit by a "Spirit" and that was a good Omen. I returned to the Festival the next day and began to inquire with the Indians about the old man but none had seen him. I was able to set down with a medicine man from one of the tribes present and told him of the previous days events. The medicine man began to chant and called several others over and told of my story, they all began to chant for a few minutes, and then told how lucky I was to have been visited, and that the spirit had told me I was a seer. My step father had taught me from a early age before hunting to always bury tobacco at the edge of the woods and say a prayer before entering. I still do this today, and I always have sage growing at home and have had since I moved out. When the Tornado destroyed my neighbors homes I had very little damage cosmetic only and my sage was the only plants not buried but debris or torn up. Forgot to add phsyops4fun My step fathers family is listed in the census of the five civilized tribes done by the U.S. prior to Ok. becoming a state. And I have the book, I would list the year but I keep it sealed in a Vac-pac and stored away due to the age. Originally posted by dedfella When I lived in Idaho I made the acquaintance of an old Navajo gentleman. He was 93 or 94 at the time I met him in 1987. He told me many "old" stories. The one that has really stuck with me follows: (any screw ups in the details are the fault of my memory) As a young boy 9-10 yrs old his job was to tend a small flock of sheep that his family owned. 8-10 sheep. In the mornings he would take them out to graze and unless bad weather came up he would keep them out until late afternoon. He said he had choices of 2 or 3 areas within a mile or so of home to take them and he would rotate where he took them. He said one afternoon he fell asleep and when he awakened it was dusk and there wasn't a sheep to be seen. He said he looked around and found where all the sheep had moved away together and intermingled with the tracks were prints that he described as looking like a very large dog. He said he followed this trail until it became too dark to see and then he went back home and told his father what had happened. He said his father became very angry with him and told him to come on because they had to find the animals. They returned to the grazing area and found the trail the boy had found. He said his father acted strangely when he saw the "dog tracks". They proceeded to follow the tracks by lantern light for what he said was at least a mile. They entered a rocky bowl area with many large boulders which stood almost head high to his father. In the middle of the bowl area were all of the sheep. He said that each animal had been gutted and they all lay in an area no wider than 50 feet. As they were looking at the sheep his father raised the lantern above head height and looking at them OVER the top of a large boulder was what he described as a huge wolf. He said he only saw it for about 2 seconds and then it disappeared behind the boulder. He screamed and his father asked him what was wrong. He said he didn't even remember what he said to his father but the next thing he remembered was his father carrying him and backing away from the dead animals and backing out of the "bowl" area. He said his father never turned his back on the entrance to the area until they were well away from there. He said that his father would never speak to him about the incident but that several times he overheard his mother and father talking about "the witch". The old guy who I only ever knew as Fred told me this story twice and both times he emphasized that "witch" wasn't the halloween version but something that was pure evil. I never heard the term "Skinwalker" until several years later when I read a book about them. Old story that is kinda disjointed but it kept a 19 year old awake many nights thinking about it. Originally posted by RAYWOODROW3RD A break from the Indian stuff and onto the "Jersey Devil..." Not the greatest story but it is my personal "No shit this did happen" one and it scared the crap out of me. Intro: I was always with my Dad in the Pine Barrens of New Jersey hunting or scouting the woods whenever we could since the age of 12. I thought I knew the woods pretty good and was not scared of them at all BUT Pop always told me NEVER go out into the Pines at night and that the locals never did because of what might be "out there". I had just received my license to drive and was given a Dodge D-50 pickup which is a light pickup. Tooling around with two of my fiends around town bored to tears I get the great idea of going out into the Pine Barrens. They agree. Lets go have an adventure. An adventure we surely would have... Night was just falling when we got into the area and nobody was around. We drove down Rt.72, made a right onto Rt.563 and headed through the small Pine Barren town of Chatsworth. Not a soul to be seen. No traffic. No people. No problem. About four miles outside of town in the middle of the woods is a popular pickup point for those that canoe. We went over that bridge and made the first right onto a small dirt trail. The river is to our right and it is totally dark out. Hand in front of face not seeing it DARK. The dirt road turns into a trail as I continually hang rights trying to stay with the unseen river. We drove about 5 miles deep. Unable to take the truck any further, we young lads get the great idea of stopping the truck, grabbing our flashlights and K-bars and walking the foot trail ahead. No biggy. The woods were dark and quiet but not in a scary way. The sand glows in the Pines so we can see the trail just fine without using the flashlights. We could hear the stream running to our right and some stuff moving around. Still no biggy probably deer drinking from the water. We turn on our flashlights briefly and sure enough we have green eyes looking at us then putting their heads down to continue about their business. Pretty cool to see at night. Nature in harmony. A few more yards down the trail we here something move. It did not sound like the deer we were just spotting a few minutes ago but we think nothing of it. As we continue walking we here it walking (crashing is more like it) along side us in the woods between us and the river stream. We stop. It stops. The hairs start to go up onto the back of my neck. Spidey senses are tingling NOT GOOD. The three of us decide to turn on our flashlights together at the area we last heard "it" moving. CLICK! Nothing there... but something... The area our lights are on seems darker than the surrounding woods. The light is not penetrating. It seems darker than dark. As we (stupid kids) start to walk on line into the wood towards it the "it" turns and looks right at us! We freeze… The thing is not moving and looking, just a still stare. Not staring at anyone individually but ALL of us at once. THE EYES... The most solid RED eyes I have ever seen. Not the size of deer eyes (which reflected back at us earlier in a green NOT red) but eyes the size of jaw breaker gum balls. It is looking at us and we were locked looking at it. "What is it? Is it a deer? Is it a bear?" we kept whispering back and forth among ourselves not taking our eyes off of it. Scared but intrigued at the same time. We were not moving but neither was "it". Then the stalemate was broken. With no warning this "thing" stretched out its neck like a dragon would in a swoop with the lowering of its head to the ground and then bringing it back up outstretched towards us. It then cocked its head slightly. It gave me a "What do I have here in my woods?" kind of feeling. Penetrating... All types of bells and whistles started going off in my head to GET THE HELL OUT OF THERE and we all ran like scared little girls back up the trail (sand sucks when running) to my truck and high tailed it out of there. I did not hear anything coming after us but then again I was motivated to get the hell out of there. All I knew is that I had the only keys to the truck and my two buddies were behind me so it could chew on them for all I cared. I WAS OUTA THERE! A true story that STILL brings the hair up on the back of my neck... RW3 Originally posted by kingme22 Not a skin walker story but one that is scary for me none the less. I live and grew up in Pleasant Grove, UT. Back in the late 70's and early 80's Pleasant Grove was really known for devil worship and stuff like that. Many of you might have heard or even read Jay's Journal. It is a Journal of the late Jay Barrett and his account of how he got into devil worship and their activities up until he took his own life. He was I think 17 when he shot himself in the town park. I was around 10 and I remember the whole event too well. He was burried in the town cemetery and I was told by my freinds mother, who is a police dispatcher they had to move the body and the headstone because of all the gatherings that took place around his grave. I tell you all of that to set up this story. My little sister fell in with the wrong crowd when she was in highschool (early 90's). Sex, drugs and rock & roll, anyway she had been to a small party and the guy hosting the party some how had Jay's Barrett's headstone. The party turned out to be trying to contact Jay with a wiegie board and other scary shit according to my sister. My sister and two friends finally got out of there and came home. They came in the door, walked up the stairs to where me, my mom and my 4 year old half sister were watching tv. Apon seeing them my 4 year old sister latched on to my mom hid her face and started bawling. We could'nt figure out what was going on, she was completely hysterical. Finally my sisters friends decided to leave. She started calming down after that but it took a while until she would tell us what was the matter. She explained that a "scary, scary man with fire eyes" was standing behind my older sister and her friends and only left when they did. None of us saw him but to hear a 4 year old explain what she saw was the scariest experience of my life. It took weeks until I felt normal. All my hair stands on end every time I think about it. Originally posted by THRILLSEEKER Not a skinwalker story but the on mention of animals and small kids seeing things, I decided to go ahead and post this. About 10 months ago I moved into a new house, it was fairly new and I knew the previous owner and the entire "short" history of the house, there was never anything there to warrant anykind of supernatural activity. I posted all the details of one incident on another "ghost thread" a while back. Shortly after I moved in I stated noticing wierd shit happening, smells of food baking, lights dimming, and my dog on occasion would spring up off the floor and start viciously snarling at the wall then suddenly stop and "watch" something move up the wall and across the ceeling. At the time I was a devout "non beliver" On one occasion I grabbed my camera and started taking pictures of the area he was barking at, but nothing showed on the pics. Its now been several months since I have noticed anything out of the ordinary, but looking back It was a bad time in my life, I was in a rut, work was miserable, my relationship with my GF was miserable, I was pissed off all the time, LOTS of negativity all around. Now here is the part that scares me, my g/f and I still talk about the wierd happenings from time to time, and the other day she told me that she noted on a few occasions the lights in the house would momentarily dim right before I lost my temper with somthing. Since then life has improved dramaticaly, not much negativity around anymore and occurences of wierd shit in the house has stopped. Not sure if there was ever any connection between everything that happened or not, but it made a beliver out of me. Im always finding arrrowheads and indian artifacts on my property, but I seriously doubt that there is an indian spirit everywhere you find indian artifacts Originally posted by NoahFN Since kingme22 brought up the wiegie (spelled Ouija) board I'll relate a story about my mother even though it doesn't have anything to do with skinwalkers. It will sound like a typical "spooky story" you might see on TV, but this did happen to my mom. She hates to talk about it and has only relayed the story to me and my older brother once, I think mostly as a warning. I'm sure my younger siblings haven't heard it. To offer maybe a little credibility, my mom has always been the most stable person I have known, married a police officer, has successfully raised 4 children, worked as a corrections officer and has driven school busses. When my mother was in high school she and some of her sisters started playing with an Ouija board and holding sort of seances. This started sometime after her father had died of a heart attack at a young age. She didn't go into a lot of background, but apparently one night they asked the Ouija board how my mother would die. The board produced information relating car crash. They continued to ask the board for details and received information regarding the car's color and even license number. They didn't think much of it until a couple of month's later my mother was in a car accident in Columbus, OH. The car indeed matched the description the Ouija board had given them, and believe it or not the license number matched. Both drivers were ok, just some bumps and bruises. I'm not sure exactly why, but my mother's explanation was that demons or bad spirits want us to trust them, but they are ultimately up to no good. I don't know why she didn't assume it was something good trying to warn and help her. Anyway, while growing up we were not allowed to go near a Ouija board and if we mention them my mother still gets upset. She also related another encounter when they were performing a seace attempting to contact my grandfather and one of her sisters stood up, walked over, slapped another sister across the face, and ran downstairs. When they asked her about it she didn't remember doing it. Originally posted by desertmoon Damn....a question I cannot truly answer. UFOs "proper" have been occurring since the begginning of recorded history, if not longer. Though I do not believe "true" UFOs are of a "technological" nature, I believe there IS intelligence behind them. ( for the sake of discussion I am seperating UFOs into two classes: "Standard" UFOs which are merely objects inflight that cannot be readily identified and "TRUE UFOs" which are objects that not only cannot be identified but also cause or display EXTREMELY odd additional behaviors such as disappearing into hillsides, making physically impossible manuevers, and being READILY identifiable as NOT OF NORMAL ORIGIN ) however, I believe that intelligence to be more aligned with something of a "spritiual" nature. Interestingly, many folks who have very close encounters with UFOs, experience the EXACT same terror as folks who have had run ins with things of a "spiritual" nature. I believe UFOs are more that likely "beings" moreso than vehicles. They have many of the same distinct behaviors that spiritual beings do....including: moving in manners contrary to the laws of physics, shapeshifting, disappearing or appearing at will, accompanyment of strange sounds, lights and beings, preceding "auspicous" events, etc. Anyways, like skinwalkers, black magicians and such, I feel that in REALITY this "shape shifting" DOES NOT OCCUR, nor do I believe a Pixie, if I see one, is ACTUALLY a Pixie. I think they ( UFOs, spirit creatures, lake monsters, bigfoot, etc. )are what our minds allow us to see, or they are the shape that a particular spirit shows itself as. So, though you may SEE a UFO and it MAY LOOK LIKE a spacecraft...that doesn't mean it IS. For intance, in my story about the medicine man who changes in to a "were-bear" I believe that he invoked and was literally POSSESSED by an Animistic Spirit. This spirit literally engulfs the man. So much so, that he takes on the shell or appearance of the spirit.....while he, himself is fairly consumed or enveloped by it. Inside that animistic shell he is still a man. Some spirits do not need a human pathway to be seen. Such is the case of the territorial demon behind the Beer Slayers house, or the Pixie I actually DID SEE after a horrific bout of insomnia in which I did not sleep for almost five days. Mind you, the Pixie was a hallucination brought on by my ragged mind and an immense amount of folkloric info stored in my brain. NONETHELESS, I tell you she was as real as the computer monitor in front of you....ergo, she might as well have been a real Pixie. She reacted to my prescence as much as I was stuptified by hers. In the case of REAL spiritual creatures, there is little difference from my Pixie episode. People encounter and see what very well appears to be a REAL thing. It interacts with the world around it, yet can disappear from that world in an instant. They also tend to cause IMMENSE fear. The question is ARE THEY REAL???? My answer? I think so...but I am not sure....they can often do VERY real things and they certainly cause VERY real fear. BUT! When is that last time you ever heard of anyone actually being KILLED by a skinwalker? or a were-animal? or a UFO-naut??? Never. Any stories to the contrary are HERESAY unless you are standing right there and you watch it happen. Point being, most of our stories and encounters have an amazingly REAL and TERRIFYING feel to them. But are they actually REAL???? And if they are....and you are truly experiencing what you have experienced.....what does that say about the nature of reality? Originally posted by dread-pirate UFO's saw one once, about 5 years ago in Syracuse NY. It was during the fall. I saw what looked like a falling star but with no tail. It was white and about 50% larger than the visible stars. It was not close but impossible to range based just on light in the dark sky. Anyway it is falling at about a 45 degree angle fast, and then stops dead. Sits there for a second and shots off towards the right. Covers most of the skyline then stops dead. Sits for another second then goes left about 1/2 way from its 1st stopping point it rapidly recedes. At one time we had a ghost or some sort of other spirit in the apartment. We always had that watched feeling and several times saw movement out of the corner of our eyes. Every once an awhile you would here a very loud hollow bang. Like the if you banged the palm of your hand on a large thick metal pot. We didn't talk about it much but always felt uneasy in the apartment. Also when this would happen you could smell a weird rotting smell from the bedroom. It smelled odd not like rotting road kill but just decay. We ripped up the ceiling in the room but never found anything. Anyways my Sifu (Studied Kungfu at the time) was over watching a movie (he was Buddhist), and he starts freaking out. He kept saying someone is here. We would josh him and shortly after we heard the bang and smelled the decay. He told us to check with the landlord and see if anyone had ever died in there. Called the landlord and he refused to talk about it. Said he didn't want to get into it and it wasn't relevant to anything and why do I ask anyway? So my Sifu goes down to the car and brings up a bunch of incense and starts going through each room doing a 'cleaning' ritual. Had us burn and keep burning incense in every room until the feeling went away. After a week or two never heard the bang again felt alone in the apartment and didn't smell the smell again. 3rd Story is 2nd hand. My Neighbor’s growing up lived a few houses down. They were charismatic Catholics or something similar. Not holly rollers but went to church every week and good people. They usually had an exchange student every other year. When I was a junior they got a rich kid from some south American country, forget which one. Anyway this kid was very freaky. Always looked like he wanted to kill something. Almost never talked but spoke very good English, sounded like Christopher Lee. Anyway they found that he was an alternate and the kid who they were supposed to get got in a bad accident before he was supposed to go so this kid took his place. After a week in their house he was sent home. After he left they told me the kid brought a demon with him. They had several priests come over to exercise the house. The parents refused to talk about it but their daughter who was one of my best friends, would only say that the exchange student brought a demon and they had some priests get rid of it, and refused to talk more about it. And she would tell me anything. But begged me not to ask anymore questions and she was terrified. After the priests came everything was back to normal Originally posted by Brohawk A few years ago I was visiting a friend in Louisiana and spent the night in his guest bedroom. When I was turning in I shut the light off and the room was pitch-can't see your hand in front of your face- black. As I was getting into bed I felt an oppressive, evil presence. I dropped to my knees and prayed, claiming the authority in the name of Jesus and telling whatever was there to leave. Suddenly, that oppressive feeling lifted. Also, at that moment the neighbor's dog started howling. Moving on, a friend of mine told me the best ghost story I ever heard. He had gotten a really good deal on renting a house in east Tennessee while he was in college. Weird stuff would happen. In the middle of the night he heard a loud BAM! BAM! BAM! coming from the living room. He grabbed his baseball bat and went to investigate. All of the living room windows were wide open. To make it weirder, they had been nailed shut and hadn't been opened in years. It's been a few years since I heard the story, so I can't remember all of the details. However, he met a woman who had a ministry of casting out demons, exorcism, and the like. He told her about the freaky stuff he had experienced and asked her if she'd come by and check it out. She showed up a couple days later. Immediately after entrering the house she asked if he had a basement. He did, and took her to the door. He opened the door and she started in, but froze before her foot hit the top step. She jumped back, shut the door, and told him to get out. Then she left. He stayed for a while longer, and as he was packing a U-Haul to move back home he remembered that he had put his bicycle in the basement. Oh well... As far as he knows it's still there. ETA: Yeah, it's not a skinwalker story, but this thread has turned into a place to tell weird tales. Originally posted by JackBurton Great story, I have a couple also that I will relate, since we are deviating from the skinwalker thing (which I find fascinating). The first is similair to Brohawks. In 1995 I was still living in Chicago. I had taken an incredible deal sharing an apartment with three beautiful Mexican girls in the city's Humbolt Park neighborhood. The neighborhood, one of the most violent in Chicago, was a good primer for Sadr City last year, but thats another story. One of the girls, Belinda, was a Mexican immigrant and very into the folk religion. She had a shelf in her room with candles, pictures, tarot-like cards, etc... She told me what the religion was, but I don't remember. It was some amalgam of Catholicism and something else. Well, the girls had all kinds of stories about how the place was haunted and warned me when I moved in. Weird things did occur, and I believe the place was indeed haunted. It had originally been occupied by a Jewish couple before the neighborhood switched to Puerto Ricans. One time there was knocking on the walls in an area that went on for weeks and then stopped. The only thing on the other side of the wall was a three story drop to the ground. A few weeks later a stray bullet (yes a stray bullet) shattered a window over our back door near where the knocking was happening. I went up on a ladder to replace the window and in the hollow part of the wall under the window frame I found several wooden balls, a big glass marble, and a small paper with something written on it in Hebrew script (I still have that somewhere.) I don't know if those items were associated with the knocking, but it was curious. Some time later, I was in my room in the back of the house watching TV late at night and I heard screaming in Belinda's room that was in the front of the house. I grabbed a billy club I kept in my room and ran through the house to her room. I pushed the door open expecting to find a rapist on top of her, but she was on her bed alone, hysterically screaming. I told her it was ok and asked her what the hell was wrong. She told me that she had just about fallen asleep when she felt "something" sit down on the edge of the bed. When she sat up startled, what ever "it" was pushed her shoulders down on the bed and got on top of her. This invisible presence held her down on the bed, and according to her, was trying to rape her. She told me that she had been told by a friend to "pray for the blood of Jesus to protect you" whenever she felt threatened by the supernatural. She did this, and what happened next made my blood run cold. She told me that right after she prayed that, whatever "it" was told her in her ear that she was a "filthy whore that had no right to claim that blood for protection." At the time I was a severly backslidden Christian and I froze in the deepest chill I ever had ran up and down my back. Belinda had no real knowledge of the workings of salvation, or the power that is in the blood of Christ. I think what freaked me out the most was that it was a backchannel confirmation of my faith. Well, I got my Bible out and showed her the scripture, told her about Christ and apologized for my backsliddeness. I went through every corner of that place praying and reading passages from the Bible, etc... Two days later a priest visited but I don't think he believed anything. He did tell her to get rid of all the occult bullshit she had in her room. I found out later that Belinda had done some kind of "power ritual" on a mountain in Mexico, and that ever since this "thing" had been following her. I kind of wish she'd told me that before I moved in... My latest brush with the supernatural occurred about three weeks ago at Ft. Custer training center, where I work here in SW Michigan. The buildings I work in here date back to the period of time between WW1 and WW2, and our offices are housed in building that were actual barracks buildings at one time. My two co-workers went out for a PT run and I was alone in the building. I heard footsteps upstairs, but I knew that the door was locked and I was the only one in the building. I went upstairs to investigate, thinking perhaps that one of the guards was upstairs checking doors. I went upstairs and there was noone there. I checked the exterior doors and they all were locked. There was no way anyone was in the building with me. When my coworkers returned I told them about it and they just said "Oh, thats just the ghost." This has happened several times since and continues to happen regularly, to the point that I am actually suprised when there actually is somebody up there. One of my co workers was once locking up and after she shut the door she looked through the window and saw a young male soldier sitting at the top of the stairs looking at her. As she focussed her attention she realized that she could see through him and he gradually disappeared. She said she stood there transfixed staring at him for at least 30 seconds before he completely disappeared. This is the building I work in every day... The weirdest thing for me occured about three weeks ago when I was signing out billets for drill weekend. Again, these are renovated barracks that date back to WW2. I was in the latrine of one of the buildings, standing with my back to the shitter stalls inventorying the contents of a cleaning supplies closet. I got the distinct feeling that I was being watched, and noticed out of the corner of my left eye and individual standing with his hands on his hips, wearing a khaki green uniform, necktie of the same color, and a drill sergeant type campaign hat about three feet back off my left shoulder. He was looking at whatever I was looking at, and as I turned to focus my full attention on him he disappeared. When I related the story in a meeting, a Brigadier General told me that he once went for a run on the back trail in the fall and came upon an entire column of soldiers dressed in the same type of uniform silently marching up the trail. He turned white as he told us this. He said he got the hell out of there and hasn't run there since. I know it sounds crazy, but I am not bullshitting. Originally posted by RAYWOODROW3RD Hunting haunting... The Buckeye Gun Club IS haunted. www.geocities.com/buckeyegunclub/index.htm The club was built in the 40's in the Pine Barrens of NJ but hunting has been done on the grounds for years by members’ way before that. Members have seen other dead members in the woods dressed up for hunting, walking around the club laughing... 1st story: The club was rarely used except during December's deer season but members did go down to it from time to time to make sure it was not vandalized. The gun club had a "men only" type mentality back then (and still does to an extent). This was no place for women, period. A member brings his G/friend to the club at night out in the Pine Barrens (to git some). He opens the door, turns on the lights and remembers something he forgot in the truck. He tells the GF to stay put just inside the door and he will be right back. As she is standing there, she looks around the place and sees and old gentleman standing in the bathroom doorway about 25 feet to the left of her staring. She says, "Hi" but the figure just gives her a hard stair and does not move or say anything. She feels uncomfortable now and turns around to head out the door and bumps into her BF. He asks what she was doing and she said that a guy was in there and made her feel unwelcomed. The club member thinks they walked in on a break in, grabs a bat from the truck and checks out the club. No glass broken... No doors busted... No sign of the guy or a break in. He asked her what the guy looks like and she tells him an older man, red hat, thick black rim glasses and a red and black plaid hunting coat. The guy freezes for a moment, goes over to the wall by the bathroom and shows her the picture hanging there. She sees it and says right away, "That’s the MAN!". "It can't be him" the guy states, "because he is one of the very first officers of the club." "But it is him!" she fights. "Well my dear he has been dead for over 10 years..." They both promptly locked the place up and left. 2nd story: I finally get my work partner to try hunting. He gets the license and everything else he needs to hunt with the club in December during 6-day shotgun. He has to pick out a rack (military bunk beds) to sleep in and picks one way in the back left corner of the club. The top rack since my uncle sleeps on the bottom. No problem. He moves all his stuff to the area, sets up his sleeping bag and is good to go. He retires earlier than everyone else in the evening so he can get a jump on some serious sleep (and to beat the snorers). In the morning, lights are turned on, everyone is woke up, and breakfast is being put out and out walks my buddy. He looks like crap. I ask him what happened and he asks to speak to me in private. "What happened?" Well I went to sleep early. I lay in the rack and started to drift off. Suddenly I felt something on my chest. I could not see anything but the rack squeaked as this "thing" started to put pressure on my chest. I started to move around but could not freely. I thought I was having a bad dream so I finally was able to get up, went to the bathroom, drank some water and went back to bed. Once I started to drift off I again had this pressure on my chest but this time I could not move at all. Then I felt something around my throat and I could not speak. I was up all night fighting this "thing" for air! Now the rack he picked to sleep in I had NEVER saw anybody in and I have been a "club rat" since the age of 8 and at that time I was 32. I called over my uncle who slept below my buddy to ask him if he saw anything and who that top rack belonged to. He stated that it was the club president Mr. Sharpe who slept there. Mr. Sharpe had been dead for many years. I told the story to my uncle about what had happened with my buddy there nodding his head. My uncle half heartily stated that since the rack was originally Mr. Sharpe's, my buddy should ask permission to use it and walked away. After a long day of hunting, my buddy cleaned up, ate chow and was ready for bed. He went back there when no one was around and did just that! He stated to Mr. Sharpe that he had a long first day of hunting; he was tired and was asking his permission to sleep on Mr. Sharpe’s rack because tomorrow was going to be rough. He was never bothered again... I personally feel a presence especially when I am down there at night but it is not a bad presence. If a door opens or something bangs I just greet them and talk to the guys like they were still here. It seems to work... RW3 Originally posted by Hawk_308 When I was 15 had to walk over 5 miles one night around 10pm when my tractor died in the field in one of the most remote farms in our area. The farm is called weavers lowgrounds but was a camp location of the Meherrin Indians years ago. On weekends people would flock to the farm to collect arrow heads.My Great uncle stayed out there 3-4 months of the year living off the land up to the early 80's . My great uncle was concidered a hell raiser and most ppl thought he belonged in a mountain cave. He would tell me storys when I was a kid about the lowgrounds about the fish he caught and the snakes he saw and such nonsense that got my imagnation when I was a kid . I asked him one day was he ever scared of bears ,snakes or anyhing back there and he told me "No , not of anything but some wheres was a differnt story" I didnt get it and he died when I was 7 or 8 . Well I was in the hayes field which is the farthest field on the farm from the road and the closest to the river. My tractor died (later found do to a stuck check valve in the little inline filter) so I decided to walk out. I had a good quater moon on a crisp fall night. I had no flash light just my marlin 30-30 that I used to shoot ground hogs and crows with. I had 8 rounds in the gun and 10 on the stock loops so I felt pretty good I had something for a bear or bobcat. I wished I had a flash light in the tractor with me but I had not planed on being still in the field after dark but had rocks that slowed me down getting hung in between the disk blades. I started of across the field which is over a mile long and my eyes started to adjust . I could make out shapes in the distance moving around with the tell tell signs of deer. I finally get to thier side of the field ,one blows at me and they all hop off into the wood line. Well I walk though a wooded section of path then the edge of a field, flushed a few rabbits grazing on the edge of the path it was just a nice night stroll. Then it hit me one swamp crossin's were ahead I hadn't even thought of them , both of them were over a 100 yards long and over 2 foot deep with rock bottoms that were hauled in years ago.I was tempted to turn back but say the hell with it ,its cool so snakes shouldn't be hanging around in the water anyway. So I wade into the first crossing a little wearied about snakes ,more worried about steping of the path and into 8 feet of swamp water. Made it across with no problems ,just a little chiled. Well I start up the hill with the path wooded and then it hits me ,I feel like Im being watch/followed. I start checking over my sholder more nothing there. I see the light up the path from the opening of the field in front of me so I pick up the pace. I get to the field and it sounded like somthing was closing on my 6 fast out of the woods. I cock the hammer back and spun around expecting a bobcat,wild dog or bear. Nothing just the darkness of the wood line and the abyss of the path back to the swamp. I thought I would I feel safer in the open field but I felt more exposed. Instead of feeling like I just had something behind me , I felt like I was surrounded. I didnt even want to go into the next wooded area . I stopped and checked things out to clear my mind and to man up. Studing the field I noticed that it was quiet , nothing was moving and I mean nothing . I was in that heild earlier that day and there were deer in the back corner of the field when I left it , not any more. I decide to walk at a normal pace and just keep my wits about me. I got to moving again and I got to hearing stuff behind me move so I did a quick sweep nothing again. I decided to walk off the path on the freshly disk field because I might just be hearing the sound of grass decompressing from were I had steped. Got in the field and I could hear the sound of dirt clods crunching behind me. I spun around and sholdered the marlin , still nothing could even see any thing against the light background of the soil commpaired to the grass. I finally got to the wooded section of the path going back down to the second swamp crossing .Made it 400 yards or so into the woods with out seeing or hearing the first rabbit owl or night speices of birds, nothing but the abyss of the woods and spots of moon light showing through the trees into the path.The trees started to get farther apart and thicker at the bases I was about at the swamp , there was water on both sided of the path which made me feel better for some reason but I felt like I was still being followed/watched as I got to the water it sounded like it was closing on me again ,I spun around Nothing . I started across the water and the further I got the better I felt ,I had a small log hit my leg that made me jump but other then that it was ok. After I got to the other side I felt alot better ,no following feeling ,even jumped some rabbits in the first hundred yards after the swamp crossing. I got to the first field and could make out deer ,every thing was good and I had a good walk home except for pissing off a few dogs that I woke up when I walked by. I sliped into the woods a couple times once I got to the hard road when cars passed so they wouldnt see me and think I was a lost poacher I hate for a buddy to shoot me . I nothing "happened but I understood what my uncle was talking about. Originally posted by MeesterMurphy Ok i figure i might as well let my story get out so it can be heard by more than ten people. All my life till i was 18 i lived in a town called Wells in north eastern Nevada. Small town population of a thousand, so all of my outdoor activities involved being outdoors. From when i was 13-15 i saved up enough to buy an HK91. My dad bought it for me for $2761.44. From then on it went everywhere i did in the woods. When i got my drivers license it meant that i could go roaming about. My 1972 Toyota Landcruiser with a Chevy 350 for the close stuff (it got 5 miles per gallon on a ten gallon tank ) or my 1972 Dodge W200 with a 36 and 20 gallon tank, so anything outside of line of sight i took the Dodge. One weekend i decided to explore around the Ruby Marshes, and go into the Ruby Mountains around there, right around old Fort Ruby, a fort that was built in 1860 to serve as an outpost for the pony express etc. I went into the mountains north of it and checked out some pretty cool terrain and old minesites. When i was going down the road i noticed some overgrown tracks that went into a canyon and decided to make it into a nevada highway and follow them. I followed it for about five miles or so and the road got better. It was grated well and continued on except for the fact there was a tree about three feet in diameter blocking the road. Beyond that looked pretty cool so i decided to get out on foot and check it out. After the tree the road went straight about 100 yards then sharply rounded to the right, went about another hundred yards then hooked left going to a mining cabin and a windmill on the top of the ridge. The side after where it hooks right is limestone next to the road with the ridge a constant 100 yards or so from the road. Because of how i was raised, and my new found fondness for my 91 i went everywhere in the hills on foot armed. I had my 91 slung on my chest and 5 mags in my cheap korean nylon bandolier. My USP 45 my dad bought for me was in the also cheap ACE brand dropleg holster. I parked my Dodge and set out past the tree. As soon as i crossed it it immediately seemed weird. Anyone who has been out in the woods knows that there is always noise. When i parked my truck you could hear the birds singing and cicadas and other bugs buzzing about. As soon as i crossed the tree in the road it was silence. I kept walking up and did not see any bugs or anything moving. As i went up i felt uneasy, as if something was watching me the entire time. On the way up i noticed most of the pines on the hill were broken off about ten feet up or so and many of the limestone rocks had chunks missing like someone punched a hole in sheetrock. I made it up to the cabin and it was pretty fucked up. Huge holes in the exterior, walls knocked down. Even for its age it was a lil too fucked up. I checked it out and found nothing recent so i went to the windmill. In the windmill there was a hollow shaft going down that was filled with water. I went up the ridge to the shaft and it was intact like it was just ran the day before. Right above it there were four hug piles or rocks making a rectangle where within there were mounts made of rocks. When i passed the pile of rocks the wind kicked up and it got downright cold. I felt like i was being watched so i decided i should leave. The whole time i was walking back to the truck i felt like something was watching me. Once i got back on the road i kept hearing something follow me on the ridgeline. WHen i moved it moved. I stopped it stopped. I thought i was maybe being imaginative until rocks would slide down from the ridge. As i rounded the bend i heard the steps on the ridge pick up and i decided its time to shoot. Whatever it was had dashed between the cedars to a lonely pine 20 yards in either direction from cover. Fuck that i dumped all twenty rounds from my 91 onto the tree. Anyone who has shot an animal knows the difference between the thump on wood and thwack on an animal. I heard five or so thwacks at the end followed by a blood curdling yell. I dumped the empty mag on the ground and slapped a new one in and ran. I felt like the whole forest was coming down on me, i saw things move from trees from my side vision. I tried to jump across the tree and ate shit and rolled into my bumper. All of the sudden i could hear the birds and bugs. I got back up and looked behind the tree to see something resembling an upright wolf standing about 60 feet from me, behind the fallen tree. Its eyes were red in the daylight and when i looked at it for a moment i knew i should not be there and it said not to come back. I broke out of it and shot the mag in my 91 at it, most which i knew hit made no sound and it just turned towards me. I shot 5 rounds from my USP at it and saw it had no effect. Thats when i decided it was time to leave. On the way back i made my 3 hour trip in into a 1 hour trip back. Once i got back into town no one believed me. A few weeks later i talked to a friend of mine that was an elder paiute indian and told him of what i had experienced. He asked me of where i went and i told him. He said i went into the sacred burial mounds that the Wendigo guarded. This was the single most fucked up experience i have ever had. Few i have told of it and i do not care if anyone believes me. All i know is it happened to me and it is what it is. Ill never go back there alone. After he told me it could not be killed and i saw what i did i won't either. Erick Z

One of my clients and pretty good friends has a customer whose father in law is alleged to have been reduced to a neurotic child by a terrifying SQ encounter. I have spoken to the son in law once, but "Pop" is extremely resistant to talk to anyone outside his family. I know who Pop is because he is very accomplished in a mechanical field that I'm very interested in, but I've never dealt with him. His overall reputation as a person is stellar on a bad day. Pop loved to hunt. To avoid divorce, when he neared early retirement he and wife got some land in Smith County, TX so he could hunt often without all the disruption of taking expeditions all over the place. That satisfied wifey and he hoped to retire in peace. Last November he was in his very nice north-facing custom deer stand on his land about 1,500 feet from the house when he heard steps coming from the south. Once the steps got about 50' away he barked out a trespassing warning to leave and never come back. He could not see behind him because the stand is mounted on a very large tree. The steps stopped, then in 4 quick strides the creature appeared just to the side of the tree, slightly forward of it, and spun around and looked right at him. Pop started screaming and this upset the creature, which screamed too and approached the stand and JUMPED UP, trying to reach him or grab the bottom of the stand (15' up to bottom) and pull the whole thing down. Once he got his wits a little assembled, he went on the defensive and leaned up to donate a .270 round to the animal, but he was so scared that he dropped his gun over the rail, which threw him into a panic. The SQ had already touched the bottom of the stand with two jumps and he felt his life was in extreme danger. Survival mode kicked in hard and he went for the only weapon he could think of - cans of iced tea! Right as he leaned down to open the cooler and snatch a can of tea, the SQ backed up a few steps and Pop believed the SQ was about to get a running start so it could jump higher and get him out of the tree (I think it's possible that it wanted to keep Pop in sight - the front of the stand was solid and covered with brush for camo - he bent down to open the cooler and the SQ backed up to keep him in view - just a theory). Pop sprang up and whaled a can of tea as hard as he could at the SQ and nailed it square in the upper face, which made it double over and groan loudly, hands over face. It seemed dizzy and surprised. Then Pop poured the ice and water from the cooler on it, and that wigged it out in grand fashion. Just as he followed by throwing the cooler at it (missed) too, it tore off to a nearby treeline by the creek and watched him through a crook in a tree, rocking side-to-side. Right then Pop was just about bowled over by the realization that he had his Colt 1911 with him in his backpack. He dug the gun out of the bottom of the bag, aimed at the creature's head and fired. Nothing happened - he didn't have one up the snout. So he then racked the slide and right then the thing took off into the brush to the north and crossed the creek shortly after being out of site. He got off one shot and is certain he missed by a wide margin. Pop waited a short while and dismounted the stand to return home. He was white as a sheet and crying when he got there, and it was the first time in 32 years his wife had seen him cry, or even noticeably scared. Since then he will not hunt, will not penetrate the treeline around the house, and will not even leave the patio after sunset. Here's the kicker - a couple of weeks ago Pop's truck broke down on the thickly wooded private dirt road leading from the FM to the house. He was stranded in the middle of a sunny afternoon about 700 feet from the house. Instead of walking home, he shut himself in the truck and kept calling people on his cell phone until he found someone to come and get him for the 20 second car ride to the house! His son in law received a hysterical voice mail message of Pop, sobbing, begging for him to come help, so the guy had to drive all the way from Nacadoches to give a hardened combat veteran and lifelong adventurous outdoorsman a very short ride from the front yard to the front door. And Pop had a .44 magnum Colt Python on him, which he now always has with him. There were also some items missing from the site, but I've not gotten enough of a detailed account of that yet. It's my understanding that the rifle and can of tea are unaccounted for, but I'll clear that up on the follow up contact that is to occur Monday (I badly hope). There have been some other curious incidents, but nothing like terror in the tree stand. Hopefully I can gain access to the land. The family is urging him to at least talk to someone who knows about these animals. If I can gain an inroad, I'll be headed out there soon, since it's very close to home.

Thanx for finding this Dusty. I will re-post my story. I didn't call this thing a "chupacabra", an old Mexican fruit stand worker, field worker called it that after I told him my jeep was chased by a man in the area. he also told me they refused to work late in the area fields because they are not safe at night...they will work other fields in Oxnard and Ventura...but not Camarillo/Point Mugu area. Just to better describe what my "skin walker" looked like. It was a man. about, 6 foot tall, red eyes, long wavy hair and thick straight haired beard short, but not clean cut, very muscular, pants (like jeans), no shirt..didn't notice the feet. the screams were like a crazy man screaming in anger...can't really describe that...it was loud and pissed off...lol A buddy and I were driving home late from Point Mugu NWS, taking the back roads to the town of Camarillo. There is a fork in the road with a mountain in the middle. Just before the mountain and fork there is a old bridge. As we are going over the bridge my buddy points up, (we are in a open top Jeep) about 50 feet up the side of the mountain is a shirtless guy climbing up. We can clearing see him in my brights, long hair and all. I have to slow down for the left fork turn, which is directly under the mountain side. As I turn, the climber jumps off the mountain side screaming like a madman, he hits the back side of the jeep, but falls out and hits the road. I hit the brakes. I turn around and see him jump up and screaming like some werewolf insane madman, red eyes, hairy and differently not out of shape...he had seen some time in a gym.....I hit the gas and took off. The "guy" is now chasing after us...(think of the part in Jurassic Park were the T-Rex is chasing the jeep). My buddy is yelling "Holy Fuck...Holy Fuck this guys crazy". I am doing close to 25-30MPH..and the guy is keeping up with me and is next to me grabbing at my seat. My buddy is out of his seat punching the guy..or at least trying to. At about 45mph the guy can't keep up. We start to laugh and say we should have just stopped and kicked his ass. Then thought he was on PCP or something so we were probably better off not to mess with him, and neither of us wanted to get bitten by a werewolf on PCP.... The red eyes must have been reflections from the brake lights...We both clearly saw those eyes. About that time, my buddy, points to the fields next to us..on our left....there is the guy running the same direction as we are going. We laugh and I look at the speedometer...55MPH. Wow that's fucking insane I say. Then it hits me....he is running across the field to reach the 90 degree turn before we do...he will get there first and that corner is very tight. I tell my buddy what I think he's doing. I have taken that turn at 30 in my Nova and lost the back end. I have no idea how fast I can do it in the Jeep. There are no side roads, houses..nothing but a fields. "Dude, we fight him..stop the fucking car and lets do this" "Man I really don't want to kill someone...get it. That mother fucker is crazy" "fuck man, the turn is coming up..we got no weapons, the tire iron is locked behind the spare..we are in Dress Blues uniforms." "fuck it man, punch it and hope we get there first" I had the jeep up to 75MPH, then I had to brake hard and I took the turn at 35MPH, the guy was maybe 30 feet behind us...he then just ran back into the field. We both saw those same red eyes again.... We pulled into the Parking lot of the ventura sheriffs sub-station in Camarillo. We looked at each other and said...no way they are going to believe us. Couple years later I pulled over at the fruit stand in the same area. I asked the guy if they ever picked strawberries at night..and told him a shorten story about a guy who chased my car. He looked at me without any emotion and said, "You are lucky the chupacabra didn't get you...those red eyes are a bad thing..we do not work these fields at night." I never told the guy about the red eyes....

I want to read the cave thingy...

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Originally posted by Murooka Whoa. I once had an experience in the woods near my local hometown, didn't really know what it may have been until I started reading this thread. Late fall 2001. Wanted to go out and do some racoon hunting with my friends at night, but that night nobody could come out with me. So I figure screw it, I'm gonna get me some myself. This is right after I completed Marine Corps bootcamp and Infantry school, so naturally I got the whole, "Though I walk through the valley of death I shall fear no evil because I am the meanest motherf*@%&$ in the valley" complex about me. I am also paranoid about getting caught unprepared, and a tad superstitious. So I roll up to the usual stomping grounds with my AR and a full combat load in my LBV. Also, I forego the usual chunk of woods and decide to pick another area to go into. This woods is right next to a large marsh, so it's usually noisy even at night. Funny thing is, I can remember entering this patch and it becoming dead silent. I'm a bit uneasy to enter, but do so anyways. Shortly after going in, I get this REALLY bad feeling, not like someone is watching me, but like someone is stalking me. The occasional snap of a twig or rustling behind me didn't make it any better either. Had a surefire mounted to my AR, and when I started hearing things I'd whip around with my rifle and light to try to see what it was, but I couldn't ever see anything. This went on for about 2 or 3 times before I became unhinged. Now I've been to Iraq, and been in some nasty situations, but I can't remember ever being that scared in my life than in that woods that night. I made a mad dash for the treeline, ignoring anything in my way. Got scratched up pretty good in the process. Exited the treeline, turned around, and unloaded a magazine into the woods. Somehow I got the impression I'd only managed to piss "it" off. My car was about 200 yards across a field, so I ran like hell reloading at the same time. God to my car, unlocked it, did a scan of the field to make sure nothing was tearing out of it toward me, threw the rifle in the back seat, and peeled out of there like a madman. Initially I laughted it off and told myself I was being crazy for what I did. Funny thing is, a friend and I were BS'ing around with the local warden sometime later. Somehow we got on topic of that local hunting ground area, and a hunter death that had occured during deer season that year. The papers had published that he had fallen out of his treestand and broken his neck. Ok, it happens. His version of the story was different. He said he was the one who initially responded with some local LEO's after the guy was reported missing after dark. They found him with his neck broken alright, but still sitting in the treestand. He said it was reported as an accident because they could find no evidence of foul play. I nearly wet myself. For better or worse, that whole area has now been completely logged out and stripped. That makes me feel a bit better now.

Skg_Mre_Lght  [Member]3/11/2008 2:23:00 PM CDT When I worked on the railroad, we used to tell each other stories late at night to keep each other awake in the locomotive. Some of these stories were really wild, and some of them had to do with the actual line we worked on (The old Trans-Continental Railroad). Anyway, one of the stories that I remember came form an old engineer that reminded me much of the guys in here that really don't believe in anything without physical proof (hahahaha!) Here is the following story to the best of my knowledge. This engineer grew up in New Mexico, and moved to Colorado to hire out with the Denver & Rio Grande RR, then with the Union Pacific. When he was growing up in NM, his mother's side of the family were Indian, and his father was Mexican. His mother's family were still pretty hard core Indian (keeping with traditions, etc..). His grandfather (mother's side) would take out the family financial difficulties on his grandmother after tying into the whiskey, and one night took it s step further and beat her up pretty badly. He went and hopped in the truck and decided to drive around and kind of work things out alone, and drink some more whiskey. He ended up in some sage mountains north of his house, darker than a cat's ass outside, he could only see what was in his headlights. He is out in the middle of nowhere, and sees a figure in the headlights, and it being cold, didn't think twice about the "robe" that the figure was wearing, nor the fact that he should stop and offer him a ride. He stopped, leaned over and offered him a ride, which the man took. He didn't see the stranger's face, nor any distinguishing marks, but started up a conversation, to which the person said nothing. About 30 minutes into the ride (remember, this is in the middle of nowhere), he let the whiskey make another decision, stopped and told the "Mother*#%er" to "get out if he wasn't polite enough to talk." At that moment, the thing grabbed him with an arm that his grandfather described as "ancient looking", and peered at his Grandfather. He was shocked with horror, the guy looked like he had always pictured someone in the bible that looked 1k years old. The guy bared his lips, which showed ivory colored teeth, and spoke in a horrible voice, "Do not touch her in anger again." It then got out, and was gone. He never drank again till the day he died, which was easily explained away by this engineer as involving a frying pan and his grandmother's hand-to-hand skills. LOL!

Fro1911Nut  [Team Member]3/11/2008 8:03:00 PM CDT Me and another Tech were on a pissed off to no end I'm taking my shit back customer a few year ago in Rockmart GA ( N W Of Atlanta). These people had built a new house on a hill overlooking a valley and the old mill town part of Rockmart...As we are checking out the refrigerator (which is in perfectly working order) the lady's is telling us ALL the shit in this house that has broke..EVERY appliance had failed to some degree..we are thinking yea yea ..blah blah she is just wanting new shit or her money back...She then tells us about the pipes breaking, power going in and out etc....so being the smart ass I'm I told her "U might wana move this place must be haunted"...I had my back to her and she said nothing...I turned and she was crying...at this point I apologized to her.. She sat down and told us the rest of the things that happened...there pool was blood red one mourning...showed us pics...pool people came the next day and pool was clean...her husband had seen what he thought was people dressed in civil war clothing down in the field infront of the home one evening....said they heard things some nights..men screaming...people talking in the distance etc.... The closest neighbors had two small children who had claimed to see a man with no head dressed in Grey one night in there room...when showed pictures of civil war era solders she said the kids wigged out!. The home owner told us they had started to research the history of the area, and there had been a battle there (of course its N GA) when Sherman marched on Atlanta and part of his Army was flanking the troops dug in on Kennesaw Mnt...the valley bellow then had been the battle field...and the hillside they lived on had been observation for the union army...the women was visibly shaken talking about it... I grew up in WV...and have heard and seen things in the woods up there I cant explain. I hunted Chief Cornstalk WMA outside PT Pleasant a few times...this is the Moth Man area...RT35 is supposed to be the most haunted stretch of RD in the area...I've seen people walking in the fields between the road and the river..take a 2nd look and they not be there...maybe just light playing tricks on me?

Originally posted by ShaneS Quoted: Grown men believe in this stuff? Grown men who have actually experienced the world outside of their comfortable city lives and television understand that the world isn't limited by their imaginations... Well, now... Hmmm... I have been a backpacker for a long time. I guess it's become a hobby, but at one time I was one of those shiftless freaks that walked around the country without any money in his pockets. From the time I was 18 until I was about 30, I spent more nights in the woods than in a bed. I walked to escape the demons. I didn't get any peace for a long time, so I got a lot of walking done. I finally walked to the place where the demons live, and invited them for tea. Now I have tea and pancakes with the demons all the time, and everybody has a good laugh about it. Some days I say, "All the devils I meet are angels in disguise.", and other days I say, "Yea, though I walk through the valley of shadow and death, I shall fear no evil; for Death walks with me, and the Shadows are friends of mine." The demons have a good laugh at this too, but it is nervious laughter, because they know that I know. Some of the pieces of me remmber all the way to before the before, and then there was only darkness. To darkness we are all returning, and all our gods will die, and then there will only be darkness again. The middle time, though, is an indescribable turning - and it would be a terrible shame not to take a nice walk on a lazy afternoon and see a little scenery, hear a bird or two, and contemplate the mud between my toes. At this point the  people are hovering over the  icon, so I better tell a story quick... I was 19 years old. I hadn't really been planning to, but I had been 'map hiking' the Cascades for about a year and a half - ever since I had passed through and decided that I needed to get into some of this country eventually. I had some nice spots picked out, and there wasn't anything to hold me back. Two weeks later found me jumping a box car three blocks from my parent's house. Box car riding is an excellent way to see the country. Box car surfing is an excellent way to pass the time. Many tracks pass far from civilization and trains can be excellent jumping off points to investigate areas you have never been. Of course, this can be dangerous transportation, and you should find someone with experience should you ever decide to try it. Before everyone tells me how dangerous, illegal, etc. this is, I already know. I also know that it's safer than hitchhiking. Various trains, cars, and scores of little towns later, I found myself in the Cascades. As the trip had progressed, my mood hadn't lightened much. I was in a dark and ugly mood that I couldn't seem to shake. I was feeling disconnected from everything - even myself. Those pesky demons... So, I wandered. Following my map. I eventually came to one of the places I wanted to explore, and camped there for the night. It was a beautiful little place. A trickling spring flowed down into a little stream. There was a ledge of rock over an undercut in the mountain that was a nearly perfect shelter. It couldn't quite be called a cave, but it was one of those places that you almost only ever see in pictures or by reading novels. There was even a fire ring of stones, and soot marks on the ceiling - but no wood or even ashes. Nobody had camped here for a long time. I had no idea how long, but I was six days out and far from any easy access. A few times I even had to blaze my own trail when animal trails petered out completely. I left the next day, eager to find the next mark on my map. After a few miles of struggling to make the terrain match the map, I slapped myself in the head. My God! I was hiking the map! For reasons difficult to explain, this really hurt my feelings - and I cried. I cried a lot. It was a very low point in my life in any case and I needed to. Then, like a distant echo, I heard the words of an old Indian man who was kind to me in my youth. "In the previous ages, children did not cry. They did not cry because the Earth Mother cradled them, and the Great Spirit sang to their souls. The Earth Mother and the Great Spirit have not forgotten this, but the children no longer go to them." I cried some more. When I quit crying, I heard a bird singing in the distance, and to my great amazement, I proceeded to remove my pack, boots, socks, and everything else, and tie all my worldly possessions into a in a big trash bag, and hang the whole mess in a tree. Then I walked back to that little place and for the next fifteen days had an intensely private time letting the Earth Mother cradle me and listening to the song of the Great Spirit. On the night of the sixteenth day, I had begun to wonder when I would leave. I had begun to wonder if the spirits of this place would let me leave. I very clearly remember saying out loud, "Well, if the Lord requires my services, I'm sure he'll send an angel to let me know." It was the first language I had heard or thought for ten days, and I startled myself. That evening it rained, and my little alcove was cozy and dry. I had the fire going well, and was looking forward to another night sleeping on the stone floor. If you have never slept in this way, it will not seem appealing to you. So, there I sat, a haggard figure with a pure soul. The warm glow of the fire passed directly into my being, and I was at peace. I was the land. I sat there and breathed, and each breath was a lifetime. Each heartbeat was a generation. I was a true child of the Earth Mother, and had you found me there you would have thought that I was a ghost from ten thousand years ago. Without any warning, a monster came out of the rainy darkness into my little cave. It was huge. It was black. It was cold. The shadow it cast on the stone wall behind it stretched out hideously. It came closer and closer. It towered over me. It was a monster disguised as a man. The man threw back his hood and his eyes shined in the fire. Wild eyes. Black pools that glanced back and forth, looking and looking. Those black eyes searched for something that they could not find and they became wilder and wilder. The massive jaw trembled. The eyes finally settled on me. I did not move. I did not breathe. My heart did not beat. I had the instant knowledge that I would die here at the hands of this monster. I was not troubled by it. This was a good place to die, and I thought that my bones would not mind turning to dust in such a place. I asked them, and they all agreed that they would not mind at all. Such was not to be my fate, however, for the monster spoke. As monsters are wont, I supposed it would taunt me before I died. So when the monster spoke I was not surprised. What did surprise me was what the monster said: "Please, sir, have mercy on me." Now this was a very strange turn of phrase. Not something a modern man uses at all - but vagabonds and wayward axe murderers aren't always aware of modern English usage. I tread cautiously. "Why, do you think, you would need my mercy?" The monster trembled. "Please, sir, am I dead?" I must admit that at that point I laughed. Cackled actually. The monster hit his knees in front of my fire and wept bitterly. And I felt pity. And I had mercy. And I was sorry that I had laughed. "Stand up man, I'm as real as you. And you aren't dead either. What are you doing walking around in the middle of the night smack in the middle of nowhere wondering if you are dead?" The monster cried. "OH MAN! I am SO lost. I have been walking out here for DAYS! I'm out of food, out of water, and when I saw your fire I thought I was saved. Then when I saw you... well... you look like a ghost. Yesterday I started thinking I had died and went to hell and it was my penance to wander hungry and thirsty, and then I saw you and... well... It isn't every day you find some naked hermit sitting in a cave next to a fire." He said more than that, but I'll leave it alone. Suffice to say he had left his map and compass on a rock when he stopped to take a leak. Then when he went back for it, he ended up lost in my little neighborhood. He cried a lot. I fed him, I gave him water, and I put him to sleep naked on the stone in front of the fire. There, the Earth Mother cradled him, and the Great Spirit sang to his soul... The next day we retrieved my stuff, and had a great feast. When you've been living on roots, berries, bugs, and small critters, Kraft M&C is food of the gods. We walked out together, and stayed together all that summer until he walked home with me and then caught a bus back to Arizona the following spring. We still get a chuckle that both of us mistook the other for the Devil. I have found it an excellent way to make a friend. I started to use a new phrase after that: "Every devil I meet is an angel in disguise.", which someone later stole and turned into a song lyric... I have spent many nights alone in the dark, and I haven't found anything yet to actually frighten me. Startle me, yes, but not beyond that. I've spent time on reservation, and the people there think I am absolutely insane when i get restless in the night and get up and walk out into the dark. <shrug> Shane

Sub-MOA  [Team Member]3/11/2008 11:18:25 PM CDT Grew up in and around this little sand hill town called Sedan. Its on the Texas New Mexico border way up north. Sedan is an odd place, historically speaking. Several tribes of Indians, Mexicans, Texicians, outlaws and lawmen... All living in the same place. Roughly at the same time. My granddaddy owns about 3/4 a section of land that's on the tallest hill in that area. Its got good water, game and is pretty as it gets (for that part of the world anyway) It's also about the creepiest place I've ever been. I've seen the ground just covered with kangaroo rats. (like a carpet, a moving milling hoping mass of carpet) Saw a naked guy with long brown hair run 6 or 700 yards faster than possible. IN BARE FEET. And just hi jump 5 ft. barbed wire fences like they weren't there. Saw a bolt of ball lightning come in the kitchen door and knock my uncle flat on his ass. Saw oil flow out of a 200 year old water well. Heard voices speaking and my grand daddy talked to them... I was maybe 10 and must have had a WTF look on my face because papa looked at me and said "They tell me its gonna rain." That ain't even the stuff that really scares me about that place.

Blueberry556  [Member]3/13/2008 4:18:14 AM CDT I think I want to put in my 2¢ on the subject. I have an idea of what it was that I saw, but I'll reserve comment on that for this not being the forum to bring it up in. I'd just like to relate my experience because of the similarities to some of the other stories in this thread. When I was 15 or so, I made a new friend while on an extended vacation in Big Bear Lake, CA. He was going on and on about this girl our age that would change clothes in front of her open window if she noticed him in the backyard of the house behind hers (which happened to be a vacant vacation home most of the year, along with over 1/2 the other homes on that street). Now, what red-blooded teenage boy is going to pass on a free peepshow like that? Dinnertime came and went, so we grabbed our Maglites and headed over to the designated yard to settle in and wait to signal her. We quietly bullshitted for an hour or so waiting for her to finish dinner, and boy was she a looker. She finally headed upstairs and we began to debate the logistics of trying to signal her with flashlights when the curtain to the livingroom was still open with her parents in otherwise plain view on the other side of the slat fence between the yards. At this point we heard loud creaking noises like someone walking across a roof and go dead silent. We whispered at eachother hurriedly, 'Did you hear that? What the fuck was that?' What I saw next terrified me beyond words in the utter lack of rational explanation for it. On the roof of the girl's house, silhouetted by the light of the crescent moon low on the horizon and clearly blotting out the stars behind, we saw what looked like a large bear climb over the peak of the roof, swing around the side of the chimney, and come to a stop above the girl's window, all the while accompanied by the appropriate creaking sounds for something of its weight to be on a 2nd story roof. Evidently the father noticed all the creaking as well, because out of the corner of my eye, I saw him call up the stairs to his daughter with a concerned look on his face, and then proceed up. At this point, my friend begins arguing with me in whispers about how I should light up the roof and see what it is, because he thinks it must be someone else here for the show, completely ignoring the fact that we're talking about a shadowy indistinct shape on a second story roof. We finally decide to both light it up on the count of three, and much to our distress, there was absolutely nothing there. By 'absolutely nothing', I mean for the second or so that out lights hit that roof, the area with the backlit shape that was blotting out the stars beyond was just plain roof with visible stars beyond, but the moment our lights were both off, we could both see the shape crouched there looking at us. Maybe not with orange eyes, but then again, it was strongly backlit. Needless to say, our teenaged minds could not cope with the irrational scene laid out before us, so we broke and sprinted at full military thrust the three blocks back to my cabin and locked all the doors. My friend was pretty tight-lipped for a while, but eventually confirmed, in every detail, what I saw without input from me. I finally met what I saw that night, almost 5 years later, in the middle of the night, on the side of Hwy30/330 about halfway down the hill from town. But that's a story for another time and probably another forum. Anyone on this board who knows of whom/what I speak, Native American or not, feel free to IM me. Alex

tag

This actually happened this past spring.

One of the walks my dog and I take is to park by a local river and hike up a gravel road that has a relatively steep hill. We go up about 3/4 mile and turn around and come back down. My reward for this hump is a cold beer while my dog looks around down by the river and I sit on the tailgate. Let me mention that about halfway up the hill is a driveway and gate, and I usually stop there to rest a moment before continuing up the hill.
We'd finished our walk and I was sipping my beer when I heard the sound of a child's laughter from across the river and up on a bluff. I grabbed the binoculars I keep in my truck and zeroed in on a child-a boy, with nearly white blond hair-playing on and around a hammock strung between two trees. As I was watched he stopped playing on the hammock and started walking along the bluff, then disappeared in the budding spring vegetation. I panned back to the house where the hammock was and noticed that the back door was shut and the windows were shuttered as well. I thought this strange because it was spring and I figured that if someone were down visiting their cabin they'd SURELY want to open all the doors and windows to air the place out. Insects were NOT an issue at this time. What raised the hair on the back of my neck was, when I stopped at the gate to rest on my way up the hill I am PRETTY CERTAIN that the gate was chained and locked shut. Who chains and locks shut a gate when they're still there?
I didn't get an opportunity to check it out immediately because right after that a local rancher showed up and we BSed for a while, I forgot about the incident and drove home (about 4-1/2 miles). Later that night I remembered what took place and drove back over there-in the dark-to check the gate.
It was chained and locked shut. I couldn't find any fresh tire tracks, though the ground leading into the property WAS rock hard. (insert Twighlight Zone music here)

brucers99  [Team Member]3/13/2008 8:41:10 PM CDT The only story that I have doesn't directly involve "skinwalkers", but it is more of a ghost story of sorts. All throughout my college years, I did alot of camping on weekends because I was dating this absolute shit of a woman that would piss me off all of time. My solution to the problem was, of course, to go hide in the woods from time to time. My favorite spot was a place called Rocky Springs which is off of the Natchez Trace in Mississippi. For those of you that aren't familiar, the Trace was one of the primary Indian highways in the region and it was subsequently used by settlers and travelers for several hundred years. One of the most popular uses was that flatboaters would travel south on the Mississippi River and then return by land on the Trace. Obviously, it had seen a crapload of violence, robberies, death, etc, etc over the years, so there are some pretty neat stories that surround this trail. The place where I would camp was around a National Park site (which had campgrounds). Instead of camping in the designated areas, I would usually walk up a shallow creek for a mile or two and make camp in a wooded area which was pretty isolated. One of the cool things about this particular spot was that it was about 100 yards from the actual old Natchez Trace. The Trace itself is sunken down due to long-term usage over the years. In this picture, you can't really see it, but it is 6-18 feet below ground level in some areas. So, anyway, Rocky Springs was, for many years during the later part of the eighteen century and most of the nineteenth century, a thriving community on the Old Natchez Trace. Initially little more than a watering place, the area was first settled around 1790. During these early days, travel on the Trace was by no means safe and it is interesting to note that it was near Rocky Springs that the infamous John Mason once lived. The settlement grew and the 1829 election precinct received 90 votes. As early as 1837 there were a number of residents, several stores and a church. The first private school, the Rocky Springs Academy, opened on the 1st of January, 1838. The area reached a maximum population of about 2,600, plus slaves. In 1860 the population was 2,216, plus about 2,000 slaves, all living within a 25 square mile area. The decline of Rocky Springs began during the Civil War. Then, in 1878, the town was struck by Yellow Fever. In the early 1900's, the boll weevil destroyed most of the cotton crop. Additionally, burdensome taxes, the town's inaccessibility, and almost 100 years of poor farm management causing erosion of the soft soil, created the demise of Rocky Springs. One by one, the citizens began to move away. Finally, in the 1930's, the last store closed. Even the natural springs, for which the town was named, began to dry up. Here is a picture of it in its heyday. Nowdays, the only things that are left are the abandoned Church (which is occasionally used) and a few other artifacts. So, anyway, enough history. I had camped on this spot for several years and I know the woods like the back of my hands, so there weren't any real surprises to be had. I had even slept in the old Church due to bad thunderstorms without any problems. Here are a couple of the wierd stories from the place. Story One The first year that I ever camped at Rocky Springs regularly was 1994. One weekend, two friends and I decided to trek down there for Halloween. On All Hallows Eve, we had the bright idea to trudge through the woods down to the old Church and graveyard to try to scare ourselves a bit. Being that it was a nice, moonlit night, we were not using flashlights. When we crested the hill overlooking the old townsite, we noticed voices and lights coming from the Church area. Thinking that it was probably locals, we hunkered down and went into stealth mode to see what was going on. As we got closer, we began hearing some ungodly chanting and other strange sounds...of course our curiousity got the better of us. We finally got close enough to see what was going on and there was a small group of cloaked and hooded figures dancing around a fire and chanting some sort of gibberish. They were seemingly trying to accomplish something, but only God knows what it was. We stayed and watched these people for about 5 minutes before we got so damn scared that we took off into the night. I would still love to know what those witches/Satanists were up to. Story Two The second story is the one where things depart into the supernatural. One weekend (several years after the one mentioned above), I decided to test out a new girlfriend with a camping trip. She was a strange one who was from New Orleans and was convinced that she had some sort of ability to see ghosts and spooks. I figured she was just a New Orleans Catholic and a bit crazy. Once again, we decided to go visit the old town site during the middle of the night. This time, from the moment we left camp, I had a uneasy feeling. (This was unusual because I had been back to the old town many times since the "Witching Hour" incident and had never had a problem.) So, we make our way through the woods and I constantly get the feeling that something is watching me. Then, I start to hear strange noises and I get the feeling that it isnt' just one person...but several. Thinking that we are being followed, I fire up the flashlight and we head into the woods off of the trail hoping to catch our pursuers. No luck. Since we were above the old trace at this point, we decided to follow it along the high groud til we reached the old town. When we crested the hill I swear to you that the whole damn town was streched out below us. My girlfriend turned to me and asked me why there were lanterns and lights since it was supposed to be abandoned. I was speechless. She then started freaking out that there was something majorly wrong. In the course of all this, the temperature also dropped about 20 degrees or so. (Shock maybe?) Anyway, as soon as I composed myself, I grabbed her and pulled her back into the woods as soon as a possible. To make sure I wasn't crazy, I tied a pack strap to the tree we were standing at so that I could make sure we were in the right place the next morning. Sure enough, we returned the next morning and there weren't any houses, roads or anything else that we had seen...just woods and the old Church. That was the most terrified that I have ever been. Story Three About five years ago, I went back to Rocky Springs when I was coming back from a heaing in Natchez. I decided to just check up on my old stomping grounds and wonder around since the hearing had kind of gone badly for my side. When I got to the Church, I decided to go check out the graveyard. In the years betwen my last visit and this one, erosion had washed a few of the graves out of the side of the hill and the coffins were visible. I was looking at one of them (I'm kind of a cemetery fan) and I heard a baby cry out. Loudly. Very Clearly. I immediately froze and started moving towards the sound. Now, I've heard dogs, cats, coons, possum and all other sorts of animals make "babyish" sounds, but this was a baby. As I started to make wy way towards the sound, it stopped suddenly. I started looking around on the ground from where it sounded like it was coming from and, you guessed it, there was a toppled over tombstone for an infant that had died in the Yellow Fever epidemic. Anybody want to go camping with me?

Tannim  [Member]3/13/2008 10:29:03 PM CDT Once I was camping by myself in the woods in Western Germany near the French border. I had hiked an old road a few miles and stumbled across an old German bunker, which wasn't unusual for this area. The top was caved in, but the walls were intact. I climbed around it and peered inside. It appeared empty and I spent some time exploring the 2 rooms. It was more like a fortified guard shack than a fortress. It was starting to get dark and I was feeling a little uneasy so I decided to camp at a spot I saw a short distance away instead of staying in the bunker. I setup my tent, made a small fire and had dinner. Afterwards I settled down to listen to the woods and enjoy nature. The fire burned down to embers and only gave off light when you looked directly at it. You could see the stars through the forest canopy and it got very quiet. At some point I fell asleep next to the fire. Sometime later I awoke. The fog had rolled in and it was so thick you couldn't see more than 20 feet. I couldn't figure out what had woken me up until I heard someone speaking some distance away. The kind of loud laughing you hear around a camp fire as friends share a beer and tell each other lies about the women they've known. It was far enough away and my German isn't the best, so I couldn't follow the conversation but it seemed to be coming from the bunker. I figured the place must a local hangout for the adventurous. I decide to go down, have a look, and maybe introduce myself and make some new friends. Moving carefully through the night fog, I quietly made my way down the hill towards the back of the bunker. The laughter was louder as I approached and I started to see what appeared to be kerosene lights. Just as I was about to say something, it struck me that the roof was back on the bunker. And the figures moving around the light appeared to dressed in gray uniforms. I froze in place and watched for a few minutes as they appeared to play cards and joke with one another. I'm certain they were wearing Nazi uniforms. I backed away and carefully made my way to my camp. I checked the fire, but it was out. I spent the next several hours awake listening to the them. Then the fog began to clear out and sound faded away. In the morning, I could see down the hill to the bunker and the roof was caved in again. And there was no sign anyone was there. Was it my imagination? Or a Nazi re-enactor group? (Which is illegal in Germany.) I don't think so. I'm convinced the fog opened a window back to an obscure check point on a wooded road into France. And several bored soldiers were passing a quiet night while waiting for any vehicles that happened to drive by. That's not the only time I've seen something in a deep fog I can't explain. It's like a bridge between worlds. When it's so thick you can't see 10 feet in front of your face, I try not go outside anymore. Last Monday it was so thick here in Dallas, I almost called in.

omega62  [Team Member]3/13/2008 11:01:45 PM CDT Okay gang, I've decided to tell this story (a little off the original topic), since we seem to be getting into ghosts now. For about twenty years now, I've been a collector of Third Reich militaria. I mostly specialize in military medals and badges, daggers, SS items, and eagles. I have a pretty "advanced" collection, to put it in hobbyist terms. I have a belief that humans leave a trace of psychic energy "imprinted" on the objects they leave behind when they depart this world - especially objects which were special or meaningful to them. I also have a belief that people who are psychically sensitive can tune this in, and glean impressions about the past and the original owners of those objects, by holding them in their hands, closing their eyes, and concentrating on the object with a open mind. Psychics refer to this as "psychometry." I always do this whenever I acquire a new piece, just for fun. Mind you, I'm not THAT serious about it, but I have an open mind about the supernatural and it interests me. Anyway, about four years ago I acquired a German Cross in Gold for my collection. The German Cross was a very thick and heavy badge. It was awarded in two classes: "Gold" (to recognize heroism in combat), and "Silver" (to recognize exemplary service in non-combat roles). It was intended to be an interim award which was above the Iron Cross First Class, but not quite as lofty as the Knight's Cross. A few days after I got my German Cross, I decided to do my "psychic vibes" test on it, to see if I could gain any impressions about the original owner (i.e., the German soldier it was awarded to). I sat in my collecting room (which is also my study) and relaxed, clearing my mind as usual while holding the badge in my hands with my eyes closed and concentrating on it. About a minute later, this INCREDIBLE feeling of RAGE came over me! It felt like a sudden jolt of powerful electrical current! For a few fleeting seconds, I had the sense that I had "tuned in" the spirit of the original owner, and was experiencing the emotions he must have felt in combat. Then, as quickly as it came over me, it vanished. That was the weirdest "vibe" experience I ever got from any of the objects in my Third Reich collection. I just can't put into words how powerful and spooky that was. I have a very healthy respect for the artifacts in my "museum." I always say a prayer that the original owners are at peace now, and I make sure to treat the artifacts with respect. Here's a picture of my German Cross in Gold. EDIT: I have deleted the photo because the badge contains a potentially offensive symbol.

Sub-MOA  [Team Member]3/13/2008 11:41:40 PM CDT Quoted: Quoted: Grew up in and around this little sand hill town called Sedan. Its on the Texas New Mexico border way up north. Sedan is an odd place, historically speaking. Several tribes of Indians, Mexicans, Texicians, outlaws and lawmen... All living in the same place. Roughly at the same time. My granddaddy owns about 3/4 a section of land that's on the tallest hill in that area. Its got good water, game and is pretty as it gets (for that part of the world anyway) It's also about the creepiest place I've ever been. I've seen the ground just covered with kangaroo rats. (like a carpet, a moving milling hoping mass of carpet) Saw a naked guy with long brown hair run 6 or 700 yards faster than possible. IN BARE FEET. And just hi jump 5 ft. barbed wire fences like they weren't there. Saw a bolt of ball lightning come in the kitchen door and knock my uncle flat on his ass. Saw oil flow out of a 200 year old water well. Heard voices speaking and my grand daddy talked to them... I was maybe 10 and must have had a WTF look on my face because papa looked at me and said "They tell me its gonna rain." That ain't even the stuff that really scares me about that place.   So whats the really scary stuff? As an example: We typically had a Christmas Eve family get together. My Grandparents had had six children. So we're talking about maybe twenty people during a good year. The place is a good 45 minutes drive from any population center and the house is not large enough for all of us to comfortably spend the night. This always results in ten or so people that wind-up spending several nights in town and driving back and fourth to the house. This time around I, my parents and three aunts did the “staying in town thing.” We made the trip back and forth in this old Doge van that had been turned into a hippy wagon by one of my aunts. On this particular trip in, I was riding in the back on “the bed” with my father, my mom and my youngest aunt. We played some stupid card game on the way out and by the time we got there, I was well and truly ready to be out of that fricking van. As we drove up, I heard my eldest aunt say something along the lines of “What’s momma doing upstairs?” Everybody was busy waving while was in the process of GTF out the van. I made my exit and was into the house before I noticed or heard any of the commotion outside. It was one of those moments when you just know that the shit has hit the fan but have no clue how or why… I just stood in the kitchen while the whole universe imlploded. My father came in the door and went straight for the rifles. After he had one good to go, he gave me a very serious look and said “Get back outside with your mother.” About this same period of time, my grandfather stuck his head in the door and told my father to cool his heels a bit. He didn’t know of anything up stairs worth stealing and everybody’s fine so what say that we all fall back to the yard for further assessment of what the hell had my mother and aunts screaming. Turns out that my grandparents had been out in the field getting a good goose for dinner. They had not seen us drive up. They had no idea who the woman was in the window of the upstairs bedroom. The entire female portion of the family was standing in the yard. Nobody had invited anyone else up this year. Even if they had, their car was not to be seen. At this point, my little eleven year old dander was up! How dare some stranger enter this place without permission and stealthy raid the belongings contained within. There would be a price to pay. I went in and loaded up an old .410 long-tom that was mine by gift right from an older cousin. About halfway through the bottom floor, Father and uncles get the same idea. All armed, we went from room to room clearing it and declaring it unoccupied by interlopers. The narrow stairway presented a bit of an obstacle for five heavily armed dudes. We went up two at a time with two covering. I was the last up and it frankly was a bit of a let down. Nothing disturbed, nothing missing, not a person to be found, I think that most of the family decided that my eldest aunt was on blotter acid again. We sat about cooking holiday dinner when my grandmother came down the stairs holding a framed picture of a homely Indian woman dressed appropriately for the 1930s. She asked my aunt if this looked like the woman she saw in the window. To whit my aunt said “Yeah that’s her. Who is she? She looks almost like you.” My grandmother replied “She’s just here to steal my thunder.” Turns out that it was a picture of her mother; my great Grandmother. My mom didn’t let me in on the creepy part until the next morning: My Great Grandmother had been dead for 20 years. … And that’s still not the really creepy shit.

SoonerBorn  [Team Member]3/14/2008 12:10:54 AM CDT When I was 14, my family and I were visiting my grandparents in western Oklahoma. They lived in the middle of no where on a farm. The closest town had a pop. of about 500 people and was 12 miles away. For some reason my step brother and me decided we wanted to go camping. For some reason, we picked a spot in covered woods that seemed to be about the spookiest place in the area. It was about 1.5 miles from my grandparents house. We set up the tent which was like a two man rig, but more the size for four people. It had support line that ran out from two sides you had to stake into the ground. So we set up and went home and went fishing. We did not make it back out there until after it was dark and really did not want to go at all, but we both accused the other of being chicken and went anyway. So, he got on the motorcycle and I got on the three wheeler and we went. Immediately upon getting there the place just seems spooky as hell. There is absolutely nothing making a sound other than us. If we got quite, it resulted in just dead silence. Neither of us wants to stay, but neither of us says anything. We had a .22 each and my step brother had a .22 single action pistol as well. We go in the tent, kept our little incandescent flashlight on, and just sit there quietly for about a minute when we hear something moving around outside. At first it seems to be about 20-30 yards away, but we really have no idea. We only know it sounds like it is getting closer. Going through my mind was that whatever it was, it had been nearby when we arrived. We have no idea what it is, we only have what we can hear. That was simply the sound of heavy footsteps and nothing else. No heavy breathing, no sniffing, and no animal noises whatsoever. It continues to get closer and moves around outside. Neither of us has said a whisper since we first heard it. We were holding our .22s and scared shitless. It sounds like it is out beside the tent by the vehicles when I hear the suspension of one of them being pressed down. Like someone was pushing on the rear seat or sitting down on one of them. At this point I yell, "WE HAVE GUNS AND WE ARE GOING TO START SHOOTING! GET OUT OF HERE!" After that it is quiet for a few seconds and the steps start coming at the tent. We both start to freak out. At this point, something seems to get caught on one of the support lines of the tent briefly and it kind of pulls one side of the top down a bit. My step brother starts unloading his .22 through the tent in the general direction he thinks it is at. I tell him I am getting the hell out of here and head out the the opposite side of the tent from where the noise was, which was luckily the front. I run out with gun and light in hand. I jump on the 3 wheeler, pull the starter, and it starts first try since it was still warm! My step bro comes scurrying out in a hurry realizing I am about to leave him and jumps on back. I handed him the rifle and took off. We zoomed home scared as hell. Told our story and just got a look like it was a deer or something similar. Whether it was or not, it scared the hell out of us and did not seem to be scared of us in the least. Either way I never saw what it was nor did my step brother. The next day my older brother went back with us and everything was as we left it. I have convinced myself it was a bear, but it made no type of sniffing sound whatsoever.

GoDrNo  [Member]3/14/2008 9:50:35 AM CDT I had the pleasure/displeasure of growing up in a "haunted" house. The place was an absolute pig sty when my parents moved in, hence there was A LOT of renovation work to be done. The upstairs was divided into 4 little bedrooms and my parents decided it would be best finished as 2 bedrooms, 1 for me and 1 for my brother. We tore down most of the walls down, the only one left standing was the wall that would be the wall between the 2 bedrooms. While the renovation work was being done my brother and I shared a bedroom while the other future bedroom served as our "toy room, play room" type area. I remember many nights where my mother calling up the stairs "If you 2 don't stop playing and get to bed this instance....." would wake us both from a sound sleep. We also received many lectures on "putting your toys away when you are done playing with them." I would get so mad at my brother because he always claimed that he hadn't been up playing with toys nor had he left any toys laying around. I remember one time when the whole family was awaken by a huge crashing sound that seemed to come from the unfinished upstairs bedroom, this was soon after we had moved in and there were still many boxes stacked up in there waiting to be emptied and their contents put away. Well my brother and I reached the bedroom about the same time as my parents who had come running up the stairs to see what the hell was going on. We looked everywhere in that bedroom and the adjoining attic (accessed through a little door (maybe 4' X 2 1/2') in the wall, not a ceiling opening) trying to find what had fallen over and never found anything out of place. This is the bedroom that became my bedroom. I remember many nights being pretty terrified as I heard/saw that little attic door gently jiggle against the latch like someone inside was trying to get out. As I got older I of course became more interested in the supernatural, so one day my friends and I decided it would be "cool" to use the ouija board up my bedroom. I have never seen 6 people fly down a steep narrow staircase as fast as we did when after we asked for a sign from any spirits present that damn little attic door (which I always made sure was latched) swung open and hit the wall with a resounding crash. My mother has had her feet on a little glass end table and had the table float up in the air about 6 or 8 inches, with my father as a witness. They have both seen, at the same time, our Boston Terrier lifted up and spun 180 degrees and set back down, and haul ass like the devil was hot on his tail. My parents became pretty friendly with a lot of the people who became my friends while I was in college. These people always knew if they were in the area they could call on my parents and they would put them up for the night if needed. Well one of my friends had ridden his motorcycle to a gathering in the area and on the way home it started to rain. Rather than ride his bike home another 40 minutes or so in the rain he decided he would call on my parents and see if he could crash there for the night. They of course said it wasn't a problem and they had some dinner and BS'd about old times for a bit. Everyone decided it was about time to turn in and he told them he was going to sleep in the basement because he wanted to watch some TV for a bit and didn't want to disturb them. Well the next morning my mom wakes up and is getting ready for work and she sees my friend sleeping on the couch. She woke him up and asked him why he was sleeping on the couch in the living room and not downstairs. It seems he had watched TV for a little bit and was tired so he switched off the tv and went to sleep. Some time in the middle of the night something woke him up, he said he remembers sitting up and thinking "why the hell is the tv on, I know I shut it off before I went to bed" so he fumbled for the remote and then realized that the tv was indeed turned off. The light that had woken him up was coming from the corner opposite the tv, he turned to see what it was and saw a foggy oval shape emitting a blue/green sort of light. He said he rubbed his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing things and realized that the shape was sort of drifting towards him. Anways that was enough for him and he hauled ass upstairs to spend the remainder of the night on the couch. That was the last time he has ever set foot in my parents house. My mom says that he was very shaken and she had never seen anyone as terrified as he was when he was telling her what happened. My maternal grandfather died just before my parents were married and both my Aunt and my mom recall going down to the nursery to see their new babies (me, my mothers oldest, and my cousin, my Aunt's oldest) and seeing their father (who was deceased) looking in at us through the big nursery window. Believe or don't believe, but I am pretty certain that there are ghosts/spirits/demons, call them what you want, that at times share this world with us.

Remember folks, this thread is best read after dark when everyone else has gone to bed.

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So what happened to the cave guy?

Tag for later.

Quoted: So what happened to the cave guy?

Here, I found a mirror that seems to work.

Ted's Caving Diary- for real this time

"Possible spoiler warning"

Damn it i just read the entire cave story, i need closure!

Great story though.

I have attempted to update this page many times but nobody wants to believe that Ted is alive. Floyd's Tomb is listed as Dewalt's Dig on the map of Freeway Cave. End of Story.

What's this all about?

Many classic horror icons, such as Geiger's Xenomorphs, Silent Hill's Pyramid Head, and other disturbing creatures, share common characteristics. Pale skin, dark, sunken eyes, elongated faces, sharp teeth, and the like. These images inspire horror and revulsion in many, and with good reason. The characteristics shared by these faces are imprinted in the human mind. Many things frighten humans instinctively. The fear is natural, and does not need to be reinforced in order to terrify. The fears are species-wide, stemming from dark times in the past when lightning could mean the burning of your tree home, thunder could be the approaching gallops of a stampede, predators could hide in darkness, and heights could make poor footing lethal. The question you have to ask yourself is this: What happened, deep in the hidden eras before history began, that could effect the entire human race so evenly as to give the entire species a deep, instinctual, and lasting fear of pale beings with dark, sunken eyes, razor sharp teeth, and elongated faces? ... Just be careful out there.

Quoted: "Possible spoiler warning" Damn it i just read the entire cave story, i need closure! I have attempted to update this page many times but nobody wants to believe that Ted is alive. Floyd's Tomb is listed as Dewalt's Dig on the map of Freeway Cave. End of Story. What's this all about?

SPOILERS: DO NOT READ UNLESS YOU HAVE ALREADY READ TED'S CAVING DIARY.

The original story was written by a guy as a short story. Someone liked it and posted it on the internet in chunks to make it seem as if it were real. The ending of Ted's Caving Diary (the hoax/internet version) and the short story are totally different.

In Ted's Caving Diary, he and his friend go back in the cave and never return to update the website, presumably having been killed by the monster.

The ending to the original short story (which, up until the return to the cave is almost 100% word-for-word identical) has them coming across bones in the cave, then hearing a voice warn them to run away. They do and are chased by "something" that produces a rotten meat smell and a sickly red light. They arrive at the cave entrance to find it blocked and their rope gone. The monster runs up the wall after them but instead of attacking them it bursts through the cave-in and out into the open. They escape, and the monster, now appearing as a smoky, not-quite-there creature with glowing red eyes comes out of the woods to attack them. Some dude shows up and starts chanting indian medicine man spells and banishes the monster back to the cave. Then he walks into the woods and disappears.

Ted and his friend follow, but they only find a skeleton wearing the same clothing as the man, clutching an antique photo of his family and a book wrapped in oilskin. They take the book home, discover it's a journal, and slowly piece it together. The guy moved into the area in the 1890's, his daughter and her friend disappeared one day, he and his wife went looking for them, and found the cave. They went inside, he stayed at the entrance because of a leg injury while his wife ran ahead shouting the girl's names. Then she screamed and he described the same putrid stench and light that Ted saw and hobbled into the woods to hide. He saw the smoke monster come out and start eating the dismembered corpse of his wife that it had dragged with it.

Pissed, the guy ignored his leg injury and ran home to get his shotgun and all the ammunition he had for it. The monster burst out of the woods, almost totally physical this time, and he unloaded his shotgun into it, making it dissolve into dusty smoke and retreat back into the cave, where he fired at it again just for spite. He then obsessively began researching the Bible, medieval texts, and old mythology to find any sort of similar creatures, and eventually spoke to a local indian family who told him about a legend about such a smoke monster. He got hooked with a medicine man who taught him the traditional spells and incantations to keep the monster at bay and he dedicated the rest of his life to preventing anyone else from falling victim to the monster.

The weird writing Ted noticed in the cave were spells he wrote so his spirit would stay attached to the area after he died so he could continue keeping the monster in check.

The story ends there with Ted and his friend blocking the entrance to the cave and hiding it with bushes and trees, then wondering why the cave had been blocked when they tried to escape, why the monster had broken the cave-in instead of just killing them right off the bat, and where the heck their rope and other equipment had disappeared to.

The online hoax version, Ted's Caving Diary, is better, in my opinion. The guy who put it online and wrote a new ending for it did a far better job than the original author so far as making it suspenseful and creepy, and all by eliminating the stupid Stephen King fluff and giving it a cliff-hanger ending where the author clearly dies after writing the last entry.