Just Creepy: Scary Stories - 5 Real WEREWOLF Encounters that will TERRIFY YOU!

Episode Date: February 23, 2024

These are 5 Real WEREWOLF Encounters that will TERRIFY YOU! Linktree: https://linktr.ee/its_just_creepy Story Credits: ►Sent in to www.justcreepy.net Timestamps: 00:00 Into 00:00:18 Story 1 00:11:06 Story 2 00:21:19 Story 3 00:36:27 Story 4 00:49:46 Story 5 Business inquiries: ►[e-mail] #scarystories #horrorstories #werewolf #cryptids #deepwoods 💀As always, thanks for watching! 💀

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I still remember how excited I was when I got picked for that wildlife research project in the Grand Canyon a few years back. I had just finished my biology degree, so getting hands-on experience tracking coyotes seemed like an amazing opportunity. My two teammates, Dan and Jess, felt the same way. We were all eager science nerds ready for adventure. When we arrived in Arizona and met our park ranger guide, he warned us that spending two weeks camping deep in the camp, canyon, wasn't for the faint of heart. The remoteness meant we'd be on our own if any emergencies happened to come up, but we assured him we were up to the task. We set off on the long trek down, lugging all our camping gear and research equipment. On the first evening, we found a secluded site

off the main trails to set up our base camp. It took over an hour to get the tents pitched and our supplies organized. As dusk fell over the canyon walls surrounding us, we were all tired from the hike. So, after a quick dinner, we turned in early. The night was calm and surprisingly quiet, with just the occasional hoot of an owl or rustle in the bushes. Nothing alarming. I remember falling asleep fast, worn out from the day's exertions. Some time later, I woke up to strange noises right outside my tent. At first I thought it was just a raccoon or coyote sniffing around our food bags. But when I quietly peaked out the tent flap, I couldn't see any animals. The moonlight only revealed the rocky canyon terrain. The grunting and odd sniffing sounds faded away,

so I assumed it was nothing. I settled back down and quickly dozed off again. I was startled awake again later that night by the sound of heavy footsteps tramping around the campsite. The crunching gravel and twigs snapping underfoot were unmistakable. I quickly unzzyzymed. I quickly unzzymed. the tent flap again, peering outside in the dim moonlight. I couldn't see anything, but the footsteps continued, pacing in a circle around us. I woke up Dan and Jess to make sure they heard it too. There's something big walking around out there, I whispered loudly. Dan mumbled that it was probably just a curious coyote wandering near the food bags, as I had previously suspected. However, the footsteps did sound too loud and heavy for a coyote.

We all stayed silent, listening to whatever was outside methodically making its way around the tent. The footsteps halted right outside, and then we heard loud sniffing, like some huge animal inhaling and catching our scents. I don't think a coyote would be so bold, I whispered. I was frozen, wondering if I should yell to scare it off. Suddenly, a low guttural growl rumbled just outside the tent fabric.

It sounded like a bear's growl, but deeper, more throaty. We all exchanged panicked looks in the darkness. This was definitely no coyote. I stumbled to grab my flashlight while Jess found the bear spray. As I fumbled to turn on the flashlight something heavy pressed against the tent. Sharp claws began to violently scratch the fabric right near my face, shredding holes in the nylon. I fell backward in terror. We yelled at the top of our lungs, hoping to startle whatever be.

was attacking our shelter. The scratching ceased as our shouts echoed off the canyon walls. But before we could sigh in relief, the entire tent started to shake violently. Something was grabbing the roof now, thrashing it back and forth with incredible force. Dan, Jess, and I screamed as loud as we could, pointing our flashlights all over the place. Suddenly, the assault stopped, and in the flashlight beams, we saw a large, shadowy figure scampering away. from the mangled tent entrance. My hands trembled uncontrollably as the three of us scanned our surroundings with the lights, but the beams of light only caught empty terrain. Whatever had stalked our camp was gone as quickly as it came. We huddled together, listening intently

for any sign it had returned, but the night was silent once again. None of us dared leave the shredded tent to investigate further. Exhausted and horrified, we eventually fell into a fitful sleep again, hoping the creature was gone for good. But the next morning would bring a whole new level of fear and confusion. When morning sunlight finally filtered into the ravaged tent, we debated whether we should step outside to assess the damage. That thing could still be lurking nearby, waiting for us to emerge. But we knew we couldn't hide in the tent forever. After hearing no sounds for several minutes, I slowly unzipped the flap, or rather what was left of it. The three of us cautiously stepped out together, bear spray and flashlights raised.

We swept through the campsite, bathed in harsh morning light, searching for any sign of that creature. The camp area looked utterly trampled, with torn up dirt, scattered equipment, and scratches gouged into the ground. Large, unfamiliar prints we couldn't identify marred the landscape, but we saw no beast in sight. The area reeked of a strange, musky odor that I couldn't place. Whatever had attacked us was massive and powerful, definitely no coyote, and probably not a mountain lion. Dan wanted to just pack up and hike back to the rim immediately, but the researcher in me needed to examine the prints and damage while it was all still fresh. What exactly had we heard and seen? Jess offered to stand watch with the bear spray

while Dan and I followed the prince. They led right up to my mangled tent entrance before disappearing into the bushes. I paused there, shining my light on the flattened brush. Something caught my eye. Several clumps of thick, grayish hair snagged on the shrub stems. Without a word, I pointed at the hair, meeting Dan's equally alarmed gaze. We clicked off our flashlights. As the sun climbed higher into the sky, we then backtracked out of the brush, deciding we'd seen enough. The campsite needed to be vacated now. I couldn't believe we'd come face to face with something so enormous and strong and unknown. A coyote or a cougar just did not match the havoc and prints we'd found. The footprints didn't resemble a bear's either. All I knew for certain was that we needed to get out of the canyon.

The sun continued to rise over the canyon rim, but we already had our backpacks loaded up to hike out. None of us felt safe staying another second, as we rapidly took down what remained of the ravaged campsite, the surrounding wilderness remained eerily silent. No bird calls or scampering wildlife sounds that you'd normally expect at dawn, just tense and heavy quiet. Once we were all set, we cautiously followed the bizarre tracks back into the woods, attempting to glimpse where the creature had gone. But the jumbled prince disappeared just 20 yards in, with no trace of our nighttime stalker. Had it left the area, or was it camouflaged and waiting, unseen? seen in the shadows. We couldn't shake the feeling its eyes still followed us despite no evidence

of it nearby. I nervously eyed each shrub and thicket as we hastened through the brush. My imagination conjured up the beast crouching behind every rock and tree, but there was nothing there when I looked. Though we found no other trace of it so far, we still needed to leave. Sure, it sucked not knowing where our stalker might be, but we didn't really have another choice. we swiftly headed back up the canyon, away from the creature's domain, or so we thought. Miles of strenuous hiking passed in intense silence. None of us wanted to acknowledge just how close we'd come to being torn apart in our sleep. I kept glancing back behind us, certain each rustling bush or scurrying lizard was our pursuer returning. But the canyon

remained empty and still. Finally, we emerged, sweat-soaked and exhausted, back at the populated canyon rim where we'd started. As we gave statements to the puzzled rangers, I noticed Dan and Jess avoiding mentions of anything besides a rogue bear harassing us. Maybe they thought it sounded insane. Maybe they feared we'd be ridiculed. But I just couldn't shake the certainty that we'd escaped something frightening, something unknown in those canyon woods.

And if there was a next time, it might not end as well. Back at our Arizona motel that evening, I still felt rattled and unnerved. Dan and Jess seemed ready to forget the whole ordeal, and enjoy the hotel amenities. But I couldn't get the image of that giant creature out of my mind. We'd escaped something extraordinary, so I pressed the park rangers around there

for any other reports of something bipedal and wolf-like roaming the inner canyon. But they laughed it off, insisting it must have been a curious bear. Part of me wondered if they knew more than they let on. Perhaps they ignored the, weird and frightening in their park. But mostly, the rangers seemed oblivious. With no definitive explanation from the experts, I turned to the internet to research what we might have seen. Massive prints, gray hair, heavy musky smell, and hunched bipedal movement, these sounded like traits ascribed to mythic creatures like werewolves or dogmen.

I dove deep into the old Native American legends about skinwalkers that supposedly still lurked in remote areas. But were they real? The logical part of my mind resisted belief in paranormal creatures stalking moonlit forests. But when I recalled that trembling shadow receding from our flashlight beams, my logic failed. Something had been watching us, something that walked on two legs and left prints no coyote could. Its yellow eyes were seared into my memory. In the following weeks, the questions gnawed at me, even as we wrote our sober scientific reports, omitting that fateful night. Had some local legend come to life under the full moon?

Was there any validity to the tales of beasts lurking in overlooked places in the wild? I'm not sure if we truly stumbled on a monster or just an odd wolf of some sort, but I'll never set foot in those Grand Canyon woods again, that's for sure. Whatever roamed there wasn't meant to be seen by human eyes. Our flashlights might be the only things that saved us that night. How many discounts does USAA auto insurance offer? Too many to say here. Multi-vehicle discount, safe driver discount, new vehicle discount, storage discount, legacy. How many discounts will you stack up?

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Your style can make you cash. Start selling on Deepop, where Taste recognizes Taste. This terrifying incident happened approximately 17 years ago when I was just eight years old, and my younger brother, Max, was five. Max had always been an unusual child, unafraid of the dark and seemingly impervious to the fearsome scenes in scary movies. I had attempted countless times to startle him, hiding around corners and jumping out as he passed, but he would only laugh it off.

His fearlessness puzzled me. Our family had recently moved from the town to the countryside earlier that year, thanks to our dad's career in stock trading, which involved a mix of business calls, internet work, and occasional trips to the city. Although I couldn't fully comprehend his job at that age, I was thrilled to move to a larger and more open house in the rolling hills of the Midwest. Max and I loved the outdoors, especially in the fall when the grass turned golden and crispy. I enjoyed rolling down the hills, feeling the crunch of the grass beneath me.

However, my mom was less enthusiastic about my grass-covered returns. Max had his own daring pursuits, including climbing trees, something I could never muster the courage to attempt due to my fear of heights. I would watch him from below, making sure he didn't take any dangerous falls, Those initial months in our new home were idyllic, but everything changed with the arrival of winter. As winter settled in, Max's behavior began to shift. He woke up in the mornings tired and sluggish, a stark contrast to his usually energetic self. He started staying closer to the house, and our tree-climbing adventures came to a sudden halt.

Most notably, he developed an aversion to bedtime, and a fear of the dark, or perhaps the night itself. It was heartbreaking to witness such a dramatic change in my once adventurous and cheerful brother. As the winter months passed, Max's condition worsened, and our parents grew increasingly concerned. They tried adjusting his diet, thinking it might be a deficiency in vitamins or minerals, but trips to the doctor and blood tests confirmed that he was physically healthy. Something was clearly troubling Max's mind. I would repeatedly ask him what was wrong, imploring him to share him. his fears, but he would only shake his head and mutter, nothing. During this period, I also approached

my parents with a request to switch rooms with Max. My motivation was partly due to the inconvenient location of my room, farther from the bathroom we shared, and partly because I preferred the view from Max's window, which faced the woods rather than the empty field outside mine. My mom agreed to the room swap with the condition that Max and I both consented, excitedly. I ran to Max and proposed the idea. His initial expression was one of boredom, but then he hesitated and eventually nodded in agreement. I hurriedly informed my mom of our decision, and with her blessing, we proceeded to swap sheets and blankets, but not the entire beds. That night, as I settled into my new room, I turned on the nightlight and crawled under the covers. Staring out of the window,

I noticed the absence of curtains or blinds. I had insisted on this arrangement. wanting to always see the outside, and Max had followed suit. The moonlight outside provided just enough illumination to make out the swaying branches and trees in the nearby woods. I watched the nighttime foliage until I drifted off to sleep. I awoke suddenly in the middle of the night, finding myself on my back with the nightlight turned off. One of my parents must have come in and switched it off to save electricity. The moonlight filtered into my room, allowing me to see. see my surroundings. I turned on to my left side, my favorite sleeping position, and was about to

close my eyes when I glanced out of the window again. This time, something was different. There was more than just the tree line outside. There was a dark figure standing at the window, peering in. My breath caught in my throat, my eyes widened, and my mouth opened in shock. The creature outside resembled a dog, but it was unnaturally tall, with front paws that looked eerily like human hands, complete with claw-like nails. It had dark gray fur covering its body, and a long snout ending in a shiny black nose. For several seconds, it and I locked eyes, a petrifying standoff. Then the creature began to move. Its paw-like hands traced the edges of the window sill, as if feeling for something. At the bottom, its hand stopped. It's a

stopped, and it tugged upward forcefully, attempting to open the window. Panic surged through me as I realized it was trying to gain entry into my room. Though I desperately wanted to scream or flee to my parents' room, I found myself paralyzed, unable to do anything but watch in horror. The creature continued to fiddle with the window from the outside, and I silently prayed that it would give up and go away. I could hear the window shaking under its efforts, and my fear intensified. After what felt like an eternity, the creature finally gave up with an audible huff. It turned away from the window, revealing its heavy footsteps as it walked on two legs, much like a person but emitting heavy thuds that made it sound much heavier than my dad.

As the creature disappeared into the darkness, its footsteps gradually fading. I gathered enough courage to spring out of bed. I dashed to Max's room, attempting to be as quiet as possible, despite the panic coursing through me. I opened the door and crawled into bed beside him. As I turned to him, I was startled to see that he was wide awake, tears filling his eyes. Before I could utter a word, Max began apologizing repeatedly, saying, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I couldn't comprehend his apologies at first,

but then the realization hit me like a ton of bricks. Max had been visited by this creature at his window ever since winter, began. He had felt guilty about it and didn't want me to be in the same room, but the fear had finally driven him to agree to the room swap. I didn't blame him for a second. I understood that he hadn't wanted me to be in danger. Morning eventually arrived without any further incidents, but now both my brother and I were in on this terrifying secret. We knew that our parents wouldn't believe us if we simply told them about the creature we had seen. They would dismiss it as nightmares, or simply kids being kids.

However, I had a plan. My dad had a strong aversion to spiders, a fact I knew well. That night, before my parents went to bed, I collected the biggest spiders I could find and kept them in jars throughout the day. When the time came, I discreetly placed them in my parents' bed. It wasn't dangerous to them. I made sure of that. My intention was to startle my dad. awake with the spiders. Sure enough, I succeeded. My dad screamed when he felt the spider crawling

on him, and in the commotion, I managed to escape the room without him realizing what I had done. After dealing with the spiders, he decided to sleep on the couch for the night. I felt guilty about it, but this was just the beginning of my plan. After waiting for about 10 to 15 minutes to ensure my dad was asleep, I placed the last spider I had right on his face. As the spider's legs tickled his skin and woke him up. I hurriedly returned to my room. My dad screamed once more, and this time there was no doubt he was thoroughly awake. The poor spider had become a necessary sacrifice to ensure that my dad would see the creature. My dad came rushing down the hallway towards my room, opened the door, and checked to see if I was awake. I pretended to be asleep,

and he jostled my shoulder. He then suggested that I sleep with my brother for the night, without offering any explanation. I agreed and went to Max's room. Max's room was closer to the bathroom and the rest of the house, making it the logical choice for my dad. As we settled into Max's room, we waited in silence, uncertain of what would happen next. We must have fallen asleep while waiting.

When we woke up, it was our parents who gently picked us up and carried us to the car. We were still groggy, but we knew why we were leaving. Our parents told us a white lie, explaining that we were leaving because of a spider infestation. Max and I pretended to believe them, but deep down, we knew the real reason. We moved in with our grandparents until our parents managed to sell the house and find a new place for us to live. Max no longer had to sleep in that room, and we slowly began to put the traumatic experience behind us. Years later, after I'd moved out, I couldn't resist the earth.

to ask my dad about that fateful night. I wanted to know why he had decided to wake us up in the middle of the night and move us away from that house. I reminded him that I knew it wasn't just about spiders, as he had initially claimed. With a reluctant expression, he finally admitted that he had seen it too. The creature at the window, the dog-like being standing on two legs trying to get inside. He confirmed that he had indeed seen it, and it explained Max's sudden change in behavior. My dad expressed his relief that he had made the decision to move us away from that house as soon as possible. He wished he had done it sooner. With that confirmation, I knew that what Max and I had seen was real, and our unconventional plan to make my dad see it too, had worked.

I reassured my dad not to feel guilty about it. We were all scarred for life by the experience. It was a chilling reminder of what could have happened if I hadn't switched rooms with Max that night. This spring, Uber Eats has you covered. Whether you're celebrating mom, dad, or your favorite grad, not all of us are great planners, and with the Uber Eats gift tub, you don't have to be. Send flowers, perfume, champagne, or just their favorite meal straight to their door. Gifts arrive in as little as 25 minutes.

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Don't receive Botox if there's a skin infection. Tell your doctor your medical history, muscle or Nourneux, Lugarig's disease, myasthenia gravis or Lambert Eaton syndrome, and medications, including botulinum toxins, as these may increase the risk of serious side effects. Lie wait, ask your doctor. Visit Botox Chronic Migraine.com or call 1-800-44 Botox to learn more. At 19 years old I moved away to the city for college, a decision dictated by the university's requirement to live on campus at the time. It was a condition I didn't mind, as it led me to meet my roommate, John. We quickly formed a deep friendship, united by our shared interests and hobbies, especially our pension for smoking up. Unfortunately, our campus didn't allow us to indulge in the devil's lettuce, so we often embarked on nighttime escapades in John's old.

old Nissan. Our favorite destination was a series of old back roads several miles away from campus. Along those winding paths, there was one peculiar spot that became our secret sanctuary. A single streetlight stood casting an eerie orange glow, seemingly forgotten in the midst of these desolate roads. It was an odd sight, but it provided the perfect backdrop for our late-night smoking sessions. John and I would park there for hours, engrossed in conversations that ranged from childhood stories to our limited work experiences. My own stories were scarce, considering my only job at the time was working at Starbucks. One evening while we were deep in conversation, John posed a question that would forever change our lives.

Dude, what was the craziest order you've ever gotten at Starbucks? he asked as he took another toke from our joint. Bro, I've only been there for about three months now, I replied, shaking my head with a smile. ah come on you've had to have had an annoying order by now right at least one he insisted i pondered for a moment my thoughts moving at a snail's pace finally a peculiar memory surfaced well there was this one drive-thru order where a guy ordered just two shots of espresso and eight times whipped cream john held in the smoke and looked at me with the biggest w t f face he could muster what's even the point of that he managed to say. I chuckled, recalling the absurdity. I don't really know. Better yet, when the guy pulled through, he wasn't wearing anything but boxers. John burst into laughter. Now that's something I can agree with. I hate pants, man. Annoying to take off and annoying to put

on. He handed me the joint, and I nodded in agreement. Then, the tranquility of our secret spot was shattered. Something massive brushed against the car, causing it to shake. I clung to the seat with my free hand, locking eyes with John. We both fell silent, instinctively scanning the side and rearview mirrors. On my side, I saw a large, hairy, black shape. It was vigorously rubbing its body against the rear fender, creating a jarring motion. It was enormous, easily the size of one of us, and strong enough to rock the car. I likened it to videos I'd seen of bears rubbing themselves against objects to scratch their itchy spots. That's what I assumed it was. Dude, there's a black bear over here scratching his hip on the car. I said to John, my voice trembling. Quit joking, dude. What the heck is that?

John leaned closer to the side view mirror without lowering the window. I'm telling you, John, it's a freaking black bear. John slowly raised himself from his seat to get a better anger. Holy crap, dude. This is the closest I've ever been to a bear. Do you think we should drive away? I asked nervously. I don't know. I don't know. Maybe we should just wait it out. I mean, we don't have any food. I don't think he wants in here. I think he's just itchy. So there we sat, paralyzed by fear, watching the black hairy creature continue to scratch itself. However, animals often prolong their seemingly normal actions. We found ourselves in a surreal situation.

in a surreal situation as the supposed bear continued scratching itself on the car for the next 12 minutes. Throughout that time we were too afraid to make any sudden moves, believing that any movement might provoke the creature. As it turns out, our fears were unwarranted. Instead of attacking us, the creature did something even more bewildering. It stood up on two legs. Bears are known to stand on two legs as well, but this creature was different. Its slender, angular body and shrewing short torso were in stark contrast to its long seemingly muscular legs. Its legs bent backward, and even its fur couldn't hide their unusual length. I stared up at its head, which now towered seven feet in the air, just above the car's height. Its pointed ears and dark eyes caught my

attention. In fact, its eyes were the only visible feature, as they reflected the orange light from the street light. At this point, it was clear that this creature was unlike any bear we had ever encountered. Without warning, the creature raised its upper limb, not using it to stand, but to gnaw at its elbow region. This action reminded me of my old dog scratching his leg by rapidly chomping his teeth on the spot. Everything about this creature resembled a dog or a canine, except for its bizarre body shape. Its snout and perky pointed ears completed the ear. image. I didn't dare look over at John, but his silence told me that he too had witnessed the creature's transformation. We remained motionless, not even daring to breathe, as the creature

continued its strange behavior. It eventually slapped its other arm onto the car's roof, seemingly using it for balance. The rapid scratching and gnawing stopped abruptly, replaced by an unbearable metallic sound that reverberated through the car, sending shivers down our spines. It was as if nails on a chalkboard had been amplified tenfold. John and I instinctively covered our ears, but John, in his discomfort, let out an involuntary curse. His curse was a grave mistake, as it drew the creature's attention to our car. I watched in horror as John's gaze shifted from me to the passenger window beside me. Simultaneously, the scratching and gnawing ceased. I realized what had happened. The creature had heard.

heard John's expletive and turned its focus to us. My heart raced as I contemplated whether to heed John's silent plea not to look. Curiosity, however, got the better of me. I tore my eyes away from John and turned my head ever so slowly. The sight that met my eyes made my heart stop. The creature outside had bent down, bringing its face and head level with the passenger window. Its eyes were mere inches from the glass, and it was staring directly at me. The chilling realization struck me that this creature had been watching us from behind before I turned. It had not looked at John, the source of the sound. It had been fixated on me. I stared into those dark, unfeeling eyes, and in return, the creature sniffed at the glass, seemingly satisfied. Then, it began to walk away

with long, confident strides, effortlessly crossing the nine-and-a-half-foot-wide road in just two steps. Its arms, ending in long, swinging claws, moved in harmony with its legs, creating an uncanny and inhuman yet strangely human-like gait. As it vanished into the tree-line, bathed in darkness, John took decisive action. He slammed his foot on the accelerator, and we raced away from the streetlight, leaving behind the eerie orange glow.

The only light guiding our way was the crescent moon, not a full moon, but enough to cast a haunting shadow over our encounter. We returned to our campus, barricading ourselves in our dorm room, where we stayed up all night, debating and discussing what we had just witnessed. The creature had been unlike anything we'd ever seen or heard of before, and that single incident haunted my nightmares for weeks to come. However, for John, it sparked a desire to explore those back roads even further, and somehow, against my better judgment, I let him talk me into it.

A few months after the first incident, I'd finally gathered the courage to go back, or perhaps it wasn't courage at all, but rather the relentless peer pressure from John, he kept pestering me, asking, Dude, would you go back with me? Please, we have to see that thing again. despite my nightmare since that fateful night, he just wouldn't let up. In the end, I gave in. John was my only friend, and a part of me worried about what might happen if he went alone.

There was no telling what a creature of that shape and size would do to a man. So we started going back to that same spot under the one street light, smoking as we used to. Weeks turned into months, and then a year passed by without any strange encounters. John had given up hope of seeing it again, attributing the first encounter to some bizarre coincidence or shared hallucination. But for me, I knew it had been real. I didn't believe in shared hallucinations. The next encounter came about two and a half years later, while we were driving through the back roads in John's car. We weren't at that section with the single streetlight this time. It was a new moon night, and John had failed to replace his left headlight, making it difficult

to see with only one working headlight. As we navigated the bends and curves, John suddenly slammed on the brakes. I heard his cursing and realized he had almost hit something. When we came to a stop, I could only see one leg in the darkness, but as I focused more, the entire outline of that familiar dreadful creature became clear. I couldn't be certain if it was the same one as before, but it was undoubtedly the same type of creature we had seen those years ago, and once again, It was staring at us. This time, it seemed upset, as if it knew we had nearly hit it. Its lips curled up, revealing sharp teeth, reminiscent of canines.

There was something eerie about the way only one half of its face was illuminated by the car's headlight, with its teeth reflecting the light. I whispered to John urgently, You need to keep going. Do you want me to hit that thing? No, no, no, he replied loudly. We need to go around it. we need to get home now. He nodded, and we both looked back at the creature before John lifted his foot off the break.

The strange beast in front of us suddenly darted off, disappearing into the dark part of the road. But I knew it hadn't left, because I could still hear its frantic, heavy footsteps on the left side of the car, in the dark part of the road that we couldn't see. I tried to get John's attention, urging him to step on the gas, but he seemed panicked, scanning the dark part of the road with his eyes. He wanted to locate it before accelerating, displaying an odd mix of fear and curiosity. Those footsteps outside suddenly stopped, and we waited in tense silence, straining our ears for any sign of the creature.

I continued pleading with John to just drive away, as he was the one who had insisted on coming back here in the first place. But then, the unthinkable happened. The back door handle lifted, and the door started to open. I called out to John pointing towards the back. seat, horrified at the thought of that thing crawling into the car with us. Finally, he snapped out of his stupor and slammed his foot on the gas, lurching the vehicle forward. The back door slammed shut, and I scanned the back seat to ensure nothing had entered with us. John drove as fast

as he could, given the one working headlight, and the tricky bends and turns. I glanced at him and saw something out of his window, a reflection of two beady black eyes from the lights on the car stereo. The creature was giving chase, running on all fours just outside John's door, staring into the window. I tried to say something, but John interrupted me. I see it, Camper. Out of the corner of my eye I can see it right there. Without warning, he turned sharply to the left, and I felt two bumps as something tumbled and rolled under the car's wheels. At the same time, the creature's eyes disappeared from the side of the car. John had run it over, and without stopping to check if it was gone or dead,

he kept driving down the road until we saw the lights of the city. When we made it back to campus, we ran like mad back to the dorms. I couldn't shake the eerie thought that the creature might still be out there, waiting for us to leave the car. Fortunately, that was just fear-talking. Back inside the safety of the dorm,

we looked at each other and burst into relieved laughter. Dude, you freaking ran it over, I said to John. I know, man, that's all I could think of doing at the moment. If I had gone any faster, we'd have ended up in a ditch or worse, he explained. I sighed, suddenly feeling exhausted. What do you think it was, John? This was the same question we had asked each other after the first incident.

I'd always said I didn't know because I genuinely didn't. I was about to give the same answer, but before I could, John said, werewolves can't really exist, right? That thing looked like some sort of rendition of a werewolf. I looked at John, taken aback by his sincerity. I looked down, thinking. I wanted to say he was right. It did look like a werewolf,

but mythical creatures like that weren't supposed to exist, right? I mean they can't exist, I began. But before I could finish, John interrupted. But there we were, having narrowly escaped something that looked exactly like one. Whatever it was, Camper, I'm sure this time it was real. I nodded in agreement, feeling a mix of exhilaration and fear. Something about escaping such a dangerous encounter was both terrifying and thrilling. After that incident, we never saw it again.

John channeled his obsession into online research, delving into stories and sightings of creatures like the Dog Man or the Beast of Bray Road. I took a different approach. I wanted nothing more to do with it. I wanted to forget and move on, keeping my story to myself. But the human mind has a way of keeping traumatic memories fresh, making them vivid and unforgettable. So, I've never truly forgotten about it. The only relief I find now is sharing my story with people in person, though most don't believe it.

Occasionally I meet someone who's open to believing me, and it makes me feel a little less crazy. To anyone else out there who's seen something similar, know that you're not alone. There are strange things in this world, things that aren't supposed to be able to be. to exist. Own it all. Pay off your home, travel for life, drive a Ferrari. In celebration of the world premiere of the Monopoly Big Board Buckslot machine by Aristocrat Gaming,

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it was almost surreal. My great-aunt's invitation to spend time at their condo near North Creek, overlooking the fabled Mount Gore, was an offer I couldn't refuse. I remember the day I arrived like it was yesterday. The condo, aptly named the Summit, sat nestled in a picturesque spot that offered a commanding view of Mount Gore. From here, the mountain stood like a silent sentinel, its slopes once bustling with skiers, now eerily quiet.

The towns around here, they told me, were shadows of their former selves. Once thriving on the logging industry, they now languished, scattered with for-sale signs that spoke of better days long past. As I unpacked my things, my mind was a mix of excitement and curiosity. My great-aunt and uncle, seasoned dwellers of these parts, seemed to blend into the landscape, their faces etched with lines that mirrored the rugged terrain. My second cousin, or was it third, family trees always baffled me, was a welcoming presence,

his knowledge of the local lore both fascinating and unsettling. Our first evening took us to a local restaurant, boasting an outstanding view of Lake George. The lake, with its calm waters cradled by the mountains, was a sight to behold. Boats bobbed gently on the surface, and parasylers dotted the sky, painting a serene picture. It was there, while perusing the menu,

that my gaze fell upon an old painting hanging on the wall. The scene was disturbing, figures lying motionless on the ground, a child running towards a house, a woman in the doorway and an odd figure on all fours. The painting, I guessed, dated back to the 1700s or 1800s, and it held a macabre fascination for me. Was it just a painting or a window into a forgotten story? That first night back at the condo, I found myself alone in the living room.

The others had retired early, leaving me with my thoughts in the flickering light of the TV. I scrolled through Twitter, half-watching. the screen, half lost in the quietness that the mountains offered. Around 9 p.m., I decided to open the windows. The night was overcast, the stars hidden, but the darkness of the mountains had its own beauty. As I sat there, immersed in the tranquility, something caught my eye. Across the street, next to the dense tree line, a large, dark shape emerged. At first I thought it was a trick of the light, but as it stepped into the faint glow of the street lamp, my heart skipped a beat. The creature, whatever it was, stood at least seven feet tall, its build reminiscent of a bodybuilder.

But it was the head that sent shivers down my spine, like a German shepherd, only much, much larger. Covered in thick, dark fur, it moved with a grace that belied its size. It sniffed around the empty condo across from ours, its movements deliberate, almost curious. I watched, frozen, as it turned and disappeared back into the forest. That night, I lay in bed, the image of the creature etched into my mind. Was it real, or just a figment of my imagination, spurred by the haunting painting and the legends of the mountains? I couldn't be sure, but one thing was clear, Mount Gore held secrets, and I had just scratched the surface. The days following my arrival at Mount Gore unfolded with a deceptive course.

calm. The mountain air was crisp, the skies a clear blue, and the dense forests seemed to whisper ancient secrets. I spent my time exploring the surrounding trails and getting to know the small town of North Creek. Each evening, as we returned to the summit, the condo felt more like a home, and the unsettling feeling from my first night began to fade. It was on the fourth night, however, that everything changed. The evening had been uneventful. After dinner, my great aunt and uncle retired early, leaving me to my own devices. I decided to stay up, lounging in the living room with a book I'd found on local folklore. The stories were a blend of native legends and tales of settlers, each steeped in the mystique of the mountains. As the clock

struck midnight, a subtle change in the atmosphere caught my attention. The wind had picked up outside, bringing with it a chill that seemed to seep through the walls. I felt a sudden urge to look out the window, and what I saw froze me in my tracks. There, in the dim light of the moon, was the creature again. It was closer this time, standing at the edge of the forest that bordered our condo. Its eyes, reflective in the moonlight, were fixed on something in the distance. I could see its chest rising and falling with each breath, the fur on its back bristling in the night air. My mind raced with questions. What was this creature? Why did it keep appearing near our condo? The stories in the book lay forgotten on my lap as I watched, captivated and terrified.

The creature then did something that sent a shiver down my spine. It turned its head and looked directly at me. Our eyes met for what felt like an eternity. In that moment, I saw a deep intelligence in its gaze, something far beyond animalistic instinct. Then as quietly as it had appeared, the creature turned and vanished into the forest. I was left staring at the empty space where it had stood, my heart pounding in my chest. I spent the rest of the night awake, every sound from the forest magnifying my anxiety. As dawn broke, I found myself questioning the reality of what I had seen. Was it just a product of my imagination?

fueled by the eerie tales of the region? But as I sat there in the early morning light, looking out at the peaceful mountain landscape, I couldn't shake the feeling that there was something more to Mount Gore, something ancient and hidden. I knew then that my time here would be anything but ordinary. The mountains held a mystery, and I had unwittingly become a part of it.

Days at Mount Gore rolled by like clouds over its stoic peaks. The initial shock of my encounter, with the mysterious creature, began to dull, smothered under the weight of daily routines and family bonding. The mountain, with its silent majesty, seemed to scoff at my urban-bred anxieties. I tried to convince myself that the creature was just a figment of my overactive imagination, a city-dwellers' response to the untamed wilderness. We spend our days hiking through the dense forests, fishing in the clear streams, and sharing stories with the locals. The beauty of of the landscape was undeniable, and the simple pleasures of mountain life were slowly

seeping into my bones. My great aunt's laughter, my great uncle's wisdom about the land, and my cousin's endless enthusiasm for outdoor adventures brought a comforting rhythm to our days. Yet, as the sun dipped below the horizon each evening, a niggling sense of unease crept back into my mind. I found myself glancing over my shoulder on twilight walks, peering into the shadows that stretched from the trees. The creature's image haunted my dreams. Its glowing eyes and imposing figure a stark contrast to the serene daytime scenery. One evening, as we gathered around a crackling fire, my great-uncle shared tales of the mountain's history. He spoke of settlers, harsh winters, and the resilience of those who called these mountains

home. His stories were mesmerizing, yet I couldn't help but notice the omission of any tales resembling my nocturnal visitor. The thought of bringing up my experiences lingered on the tip of my tongue, but I held back, fearing their reactions. As the days passed, the dichotomy of my experiences grew more profound. By day I was a part of this vibrant natural world, but by night, I felt like an intruder, a stranger to the mountain's darker secrets. I couldn't shake the feeling that there was a hidden depth to Mount Gore that few were privy to. It was a little, on one such night lying awake in my room that I heard it, a distant, haunting howl that seemed to resonate through the valley. It was a sound that seemed both ancient and otherworldly,

a call that spoke of wildness and freedom. My heart raced as I wondered if it was the creature, its voice echoing through the night, reminding me of its presence. The following days were a blur of inner conflict. The charm of the mountain life was undeniable, but the shadow of my encounters loomed large. I found myself torn between the desire to explore further and the instinct to leave the mysteries of Mount Gore undisturbed. As our time at the condo neared its end, I felt a growing apprehension. The peace and tranquility of the mountains had been a bomb, but the unanswered questions about the creature gnawed at me. I realized that my experience at Mount Gore was not just a vacation. it was a journey into the unknown, a confrontation with the wild that lay just beyond the reach of civilization.

And as the last night approached, I couldn't shake the feeling that the story was far from over. As the days at Mount Gore dwindled to a close, a palpable tension clung to me like the morning mist that wrapped around the mountain peaks. Despite the comforting routine of the past days, the looming shadow of the creature haunted the fringes of my thoughts. an unspoken fear that I dared not voice to my family. The final night arrived with an uneasy stillness. The forest, usually alive with the nocturnal chorus of wildlife, was eerily silent. This absence of sound was more unnerving than any howl or rustle in the underbrush. I lay in my bed, staring at the ceiling,

the darkness outside my window feeling like a tangible presence. As I lay there, the haunting stillness was shattered by, a subtle yet unmistakable sound. A soft crunch of leaves, a gentle thud against the earth. My heart raced as I realized something large was moving outside. The memories of my previous encounters with the creature flooded back, each detail vivid and terrifying. Summining courage, I edged toward the window. Peering through the glass, I saw it again. The creature, its imposing form illuminated by the moonlight. It was closer than ever before, lurking at the edge of the woods, its eyes seeming to scan the area with purpose. My breath caught in my throat as I realized it was

looking for something, or someone. The creature's gaze suddenly fixed on my window, and for a brief, horrifying moment, our eyes met. In that instant, I saw not just a wild animal, but a being with a deep, almost human-like intelligence. It was as if it recognized me, understood my fear. Panic surged through me as I ducked away from the window. My mind raced with questions. What did it want? Why was it so drawn to this place? To me? The weight of its gaze lingered, a heavy burden that I couldn't shake off. I spent the night in a restless vigil, every creek of the condo, every whisper of the wind heightening my anxiety. The creature The creature's presence felt like a dark cloud over the mountain, a hidden danger lurking in the beauty of the wilderness.

As dawn broke, bringing light to the landscape, the creature was nowhere to be seen. The forest regained its usual sounds, the birds chirping, the leaves rustling, as if the night's events were just a bad dream. But the memory of the creature's gaze, its almost human intelligence, remained etched in my mind. We packed our things in silence, the usual end of vacation chatter replaced by a heavy quiet. As we locked up the condo, I couldn't help but feel a sense of relief, a longing to return to the safety of the city, away from the mysteries and dangers of Mount Gore. As we drove away, I looked back at the mountain, its peaks shrouded and missed. I knew that the experience would stay with me, a haunting reminder of the untamed, mysterious forces

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and the biggest event of the week is the high school football game. That was my world, a tiny blip in the vast Midwestern landscape, surrounded by fields that stretched out like an endless sea of green. I guess you could say I found my place in that little world, splitting my time between the drama club and the academic bowl team. Tonight was one of those nights that seemed like any other, but now I can't help but feel it was the beginning of something. Otherworldly.

We had just wrapped up another late-night drama practice. The play was at the end of the week, and Mr. Thompson, our ever-patient drama teacher, was determined to iron out every last kink. You're all doing great, Mr. Thompson said, clapping his hands together. Just a few more rehearsals, and we'll have this play in the bag. His words were meant to be encouraging, but I could see the exhaustion written all over my friend's faces. As the others started packing up, I checked my phone for the time. It was already past ten. I quickly gathered my things,

eager to get home and dive into bed. Living 15 miles outside of town meant I was always one of the last ones to get home. I didn't mind it much, though. The quiet drives under the starry sky were something I had come to cherish, especially on nights like this when the moon hung full and bright,

casting a ghostly glow over the fields. I was about to head out when Kelsey, an upperclassman who lived a couple of miles from me, called out. Hey, need a ride? she asked, swinging her car keys around her finger. Thanks, Kelsey, I replied, relieved. I didn't drive yet, so hitching rides was my only ticket out of walking miles in the dark.

The drive started off as usual, with Kelsey filling me in on the latest high school gossip. I wasn't much for gossip, but I appreciated the company. The night was exceptionally beautiful, with only a few clouds dotting the sky. As we turned onto the gravel road leading to my house, I couldn't help but gaze out the window, lost in the tranquil beauty of the moonlit fields. That's when I saw it. Something large and white darted past my window so fast I barely had time to register it. I bolted upright in my seat, my heart pounding.

Kelsey, noticing my sudden movement, asked, What's up? Peering into the darkness, where the blur had disappeared. I stammered. I, I just saw something huge dart by the window. I pointed to the passenger side, my eyes wide with a mix of fear and curiosity. Kelsey glanced in the rearview mirror and then back at me, her expression one of amused skepticism.

Probably just an owl, she said, rolling her eyes. Yeah, sure. An owl, I muttered, not convinced. I knew the wildlife around here, and whatever I saw was way bigger than any bird native to our area. but arguing about it seemed pointless, so I kept quiet, my eyes scanning the dark fields for any sign of the mysterious creature. The rest of the drive was silent, the only sound being the crunch of gravel beneath the tires. I couldn't shake off the feeling that something was off, that what I saw was more than just a trick of the light.

Little did I know, that was just the beginning of a night that would forever change how I saw our sleepy little town. As Kelsey's car hummed along the gravel road, the night seemed to wrap around us like a dark blanket. The moon, almost full, hung low in the sky, casting eerie shadows across the fields. I tried to shake off the uneasy feeling from earlier, but it clung to me stubbornly. Kelsey seemed oblivious to my growing anxiety. Her mind probably wrapped up in whatever pop song was playing softly on the radio. I, on the other hand, couldn't stop glancing. dancing out the window, half expecting to see that mysterious white blur again.

You're awfully jumpy tonight, Kelsey remarked, her eyes briefly meeting mine before returning to the road. Just tired, I guess, I lied, not wanting to admit that I was spooked by what could have easily been a trick of the light, or my overactive imagination. We drove in silence for a while, the only sound being the gravel crunching under the tires. I found myself staring out into the darkness, searching for something, anything, that could explain what I had seen. Suddenly, Kelsey let out a piercing scream, jolting me from my thoughts.

My heart raced as I turned to her, expecting to find something terrible. But she was staring straight ahead, her hands gripping the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles were white. What's wrong? I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. Kelsey didn't answer. her eyes were wide with fear, fixed on something in front of us. Following her gaze, I saw it, a flash of gray and white darting from behind us,

moving unnaturally fast. Before I could even process what was happening, a huge wolf-like creature appeared on the road ahead. It was unlike anything I had ever seen, massive and menacing, with fur that seemed to shimmer in the moonlight. Kelsey slammed on the brakes, and the car skidded on the loose gravel. I braced myself, certain we were going to collide with the creature. But then, to our utter horror, it stood up on its hind legs. It was a surreal, terrifying sight.

The wolf, or whatever it was, reached out with what looked like human hands, complete with claws, and grabbed the cattle guard on the front of the jeep. The vehicle jerked back a foot or so before coming to a complete stop. Frozen in place, I stared at the creature in shock. its chest was too wide, too muscular to belong to a normal wolf. Its eyes, a piercing yellow, seemed to bore into us. Then, in a moment that felt both terrifying and surreal, the creature smiled, a chilling, knowing grin that sent shivers down my spine.

It let go of the cattle guard, leaving deep scratches in the metal, and began to circle the jeep. It moved on its hind legs, arms swaying slightly, in a way that was eerily reminiscent of a human's gate. The creature stopped once at the back of the vehicle, and then again by my side. It peered in through the window, its yellow eyes meeting mine, and I felt a chill unlike any other. Then, with a powerful leap, it landed on top of the Jeep, causing the vehicle to rock. Moments later, it jumped off on the driver's side and took off towards town.

Kelsey and I sat in stunned silence. unable to comprehend what we had just witnessed. It was a moment before either of us could speak, our minds racing to make sense of the impossible. For a few heartbeats after the creature disappeared into the night, Kelsey and I just sat there, frozen, the car idling in the middle of the gravel road. The eerie silence that followed was almost as terrifying as the encounter itself.

My mind was racing, trying to make sense of what we had just seen. It was like something straight out of a horror movie, but this was no movie. This was real, and it was happening to us. Kelsey was the first to break the silence. Did you see that? she whispered, her voice trembling. I could only nod, still too shocked to form words. The creature, the thing that stood like a man but was clearly not human, had vanished as quickly as it had appeared, but the image of it was burned into my mind.

It was like a wolf, I finally managed to say, but not, not a normal wolf. The creature had been massive, its fur a mix of gray and white that seemed to shimmer in the moonlight. But what was truly unsettling was how it stood upright on its hind legs, with hands that resembled those of a human, but with claws that were unmistakably predatory. And those eyes, Kelsey added, shuddering, they were like nothing I've ever seen, The creature's eyes had been a piercing yellow, glowing in the dark, and when it looked at us, it was as if it could see right into our souls. We both knew what it looked like, what it resembled, but saying it out loud seemed absurd.

Werewolves were the stuff of legend, of folklore, and horror stories. They weren't supposed to be real, and yet what else could explain what we had just seen? The drive to my house was mostly silent, both of us lost in our own thoughts. trying to process the encounter. Every rustle in the bushes, every shadow cast by the moonlight made me jump, half expecting the creature to reappear. But the rest of the journey was uneventful, and we soon arrived at my house. Kelsey stopped the car in front of my house, and we sat there for a moment, neither of us eager to step out into the night. Do you think we should tell someone? I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. Kelsey shook her head, and say what, that we saw what, that we

saw a werewolf? No one would believe us. They'd think we're crazy. She was right, of course. What we had seen was beyond belief, and trying to explain it to someone else seemed impossible. So, we just keep this to ourselves? I asked, the weight of the secret already feeling heavy. For now, Kelsey replied, maybe. Maybe we can figure out what it was, do some research or something, but for now we keep this between us. I nodded, understanding the gravity of what she was saying. We were in this together, bound by a shared experience that was too bizarre, too frightening to share with anyone else.

With a final glance at the dark field surrounding my house, I stepped out of the car and quickly made my way inside. That night, I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, the image of the creature haunting my thoughts. It was a long time before sleep finally claimed me, and even then, my dreams were filled with yellow eyes and shadows that moved in the night. Lying in bed that night, my mind was a whirlpool of fear and confusion. The image of the creature, standing upright with those haunting yellow eyes, replayed over and over in my head.

I tossed and turned, the comfort of my own room now feeling foreign, as if the shadows themselves were hiding secrets. The next morning I met Kelsey at school. We exchanged a look that spoke volumes, a silent agreement to keep last night's events between us. School went by in a blur, my thoughts consumed by the creature. I found myself jumping at the slightest noises, my skin prickling with unease.

Kelsey seemed just as distracted, her usually bright eyes clouded with the same fear that gripped me. We spoke in hushed tones during lunch. away from prying ears. Have you looked it up? I asked tentatively, referring to our unspoken agreement to research what we had seen.

Kelsey nodded, her fingers fiddling with her food. Yeah, but there's nothing. I mean there are legends and stories but nothing real, nothing like what we saw. The rest of the day passed in a haze of whispers and stolen glances.

We were like co-conspirators, bound by a secret too wild to share. I could tell Kelsey was as eager as I was for the day to end, to escape the suffocating normalcy of school life that now felt so trivial. After school, I found myself drawn to the local library, scouring through books on local legends and wildlife. But nothing I found matched our experience. The logical part of me wanted to dismiss it as a trick of the light,

an animal we couldn't properly see in the dark, but another part, a deeper, more primal part, knew what we had seen was real. That night, as I lay in bed, the fear began to morph into something else, a kind of resolve. I couldn't let this go. I needed to understand, to find some sort of explanation for what Kelsey and I had witnessed. It wasn't just curiosity, it was a need to make sense of the world again, to reassure myself that there was an order to things, even if it was one I didn't fully understand.

days turned into weeks, and the memory of that night began to fade, softened by the mundanity of everyday life. Kelsey and I spoke less and less about it, the unspoken agreement to keep our secrets still holding strong. But the experience stayed with me, a constant reminder that the world was bigger and stranger than I had ever imagined. Years later, I found the courage to share the story with others. Most didn't believe me, chuckling it off,

as a wild imagination or a misunderstanding. But every once in a while, I'd see a flicker of doubt, a hint of fear in someone's eyes, and I'd know they understood. They knew as I did, that the world holds mysteries, creatures of legend and lore, that lurk just beyond our sight in the shadows of our seemingly ordinary lives. So now I tell my story not in search of belief or validation, but as a warning. be careful, especially on moonlit nights, on lonely gravel roads. You never know when you might encounter something that defies explanation, something that reminds you just how little we know about the world we live in. Spring just slid into your DMs.

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