Snook - 8 Hours of Forest Scary Stories | Compilation to Sleep, Study, or Work To

Episode Date: October 11, 2026

Join the Patreon! For bonus videos, exclusive livestreams, discord and more! ⁠⁠https://www.patreon.com/SnookYT⁠⁠ This was 8 Hours of Forest Scary Stories! What did you think about today's video? Would you like to see more like this in the future? Make sure to let me know down below! Thank you for watching! Join the Patreon! ⁠⁠⁠https://www.patreon.com/SnookYT⁠⁠⁠ ⁠Follow me on instagram and Spotify! If your story or post was included in today's video and you wish for it to be taken down, please reach out to this email. [e-mail] And yes, I'm a human voice. NEXT SUB GOAL - 1,000,000 subscribers! So make sure to subscribe! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

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And today we're getting into seven hours of some forest scary stories. And this is a mega compilation of some of the scariest forest stories I have ever read before. And the forest stories are always my favorite. So I wanted to compile them all all into this one super long video for you guys to sleep, study, or work to. Would you like to see some more compilations like this in the future where I just, you know, compile a bunch of the old. stories I've read before and just put them into themes and that sort of stuff. If so, make sure to comment down below and let me know. And make sure you also rate the show five stars.

It helps out so, so much. And also, if you'd like to get bonus videos, I release bonus videos every single week on my Patreon, where I read some of the most disturbing, scary, and just downright unhinged Reddit threads and confessions. I can't read on YouTube or Spotify. And also you get exclusive live streams every single Thursday, along with early access, Discord access, and ad-free content,

all for just $5 a month. And so it's a lot of bank for your buck, and I would love for you to come join me over there. And yeah, it's a great time, and it's a great community over there. And also, you can find that in the pinned comment in the first link in the description. And if you do join, it would mean the world. And anyways, that's enough yapping.

I'm about a yap for seven hours. and so I really hope you enjoy. And so without further ado, sit back, relax, grab a drink or grab a snack. And without further ado, let's get into seven hours of some forest scary stories. Ted the caver. March 23rd, 2001.

Due to the overwhelming number of requests I've received to tell about my discoveries and bizarre experiences in a cave, not far from my home, I have created this webpage. I will outline the issue. events that happened to me during the past few months, beginning with my journey into a familiar cave in December 2000, and ending, well, it hasn't actually ended yet. I will use my caving journal as the text to tell about my recent experience. I will give them to you as I experienced them

in chronological order. I have included photos that were taken during my many trips into the cave. I have also created a few illustrations to help the reader get a better idea of what things looked like in the cave. All of the photos were taken by me, or one of the few people I went into the cave with. I want to point out a few things before I tell about the events. Number one, most of the pictures were taken with a Kodak disposable type camera. I took a better camera into the cave on one or two the trips. Pictures on this site are all original photos and have not been messed with, enhanced other than where noted. As a rule, I get my pictures put onto disk at the time of

developing, so I don't have to scan them later. This ensures the best digital quality. Number two, I will not reveal the names of the other people involved in this experience. If you know me well enough, you probably know them already. Number three, I will not reveal the location of the cave to anyone for any reason. so please don't ask. I refuse to be held accountable for anyone's life of my own. I will refer to the cave as mystery cave. That is not its real name.

If you think these events sound far-fetched, I agree. I would come to the same conclusion had I not experienced them. I will try to finish the site as soon as possible. Check the date on the main page to see when I've made updates. To protect myself from people who might want to copy this site, I will include the following. All texts on this and following pages are my own words and copyright 2001. Ted.

I will divide the text into two colors for the sake of clarity. The gray text is taken directly from my caving journal. The italicized blue text is my comment as I reflect on the experience. I will do my best to convey the thoughts and feelings I had during the entire event. I will not use the actual names of the other individuals involved. I will include the entire relevant text of my journal. Only small parts of the journal will I skip. This will only occur when the entry has nothing to do with the experience in the cave,

such as eating dinner after a trip, getting fuel or snacks, irrelevant details, etc. My journal is fairly thorough. I will merely summarize what I am cutting out of the actual entry. In an effort to present this experience in as accurate light as possible, I will type my journal as I wrote it. Sands grammar check, please overlook my errors. My additional comments will help to clarify the things I wrote in my journal. And hopefully, guys, before we get into his journal,

hopefully that makes sense. The two colors kind of show different things. The gray text is from the caving journal, and then the blue text is his comments. I will have the original kind of photos on screen so you can see the difference if you kind of want to follow along. but yeah, just a quick note. I know I just reiterated that, but just for clarity's sake. Anyways, on to his caving journal. Caving Journal, December 30th, 2000.

B and I decided to get in one more caving trip before the new year. So we set our sights on Mystery Cave. Not a spectacular cave, but since neither of us had been caving in a while, it would be nice to go to any cave. There was a bit of excitement to this trip. There was a small passage in the lower portion of the cave that I wanted to check out to see if it was possible to get past it. It had a small opening, but lots of air blowing out of it. Even though it is way too small to climb through, I had never even checked to see what was inside the passage. We got our gear loaded up and hit the road by 3 p.m. We got to the cave in great time, since Belex to drive fast. We anchored from the usual tree and began to repel into the cave. I went down first.

and got my gear together while B came down. I will refer to B many times. We have been caving together for many months now. He was injured in a caving accident a few years ago and was told he would never walk again. Through hard work and perseverance, he not only walks but can get around very well in caves. The trickier parts of a cave might slow him down a bit,

but he can make it. He patiently works through an obstacle until he gets past it. As for the reference to the small opening in the cave, there is a saying among cavers. If it blows, it goes. Meaning if a passage has good airflow, it is probably worth investigating. After we explored all of the usual passages we climbed down to check out the hole, the hole is located deep in the cave, near the lowest part of the cave. It is on the side of a cave wall, about three feet from the floor.

To look inside the hole, I had to know. kneel down to duck under an overhang of rock and then the photo of the opening and um oh boy look at this and for everyone just listening and not watching it is a super tight hole i mean his glove barely his hand can get through it that's how small the hole is so i mean yeah very tight and um that's what they're talking about and anyways op he continues i used my backup mini mag light and held it inside the the hole to see what I could see. I was excited by what I saw. The wall around the hole was about three to five inches thick. It led into a tight passage. The passage opened up a bit just inside the hole. It continued back about 10 to 12 feet in a small crawl space. After that, it seemed to

really open up, although how much we couldn't tell. This could be a version passage. Obviously, no one has passed through this route, but there could be a way into the passage from the other side. To even get to the crawl space, we would have to enlarge the opening. Currently, it is about the size of my fist. Once we get past the opening, we would have a tight crawl back to where it opened up. It would take some work, but we thought we could do it. We sat down for a few minutes to rest and contemplate our plan of attack. While we sat there in the darkness, we could hear the wind howling from the other side of the passage. It was a low, eerie noise. We could also hear a low, rumble from time to time? No big deal, though. The cave is in the vicinity of a highway that has

heavy trucks drive on it. We figured the rumble was the effect of the trucks resonating through the rocks. We determined that our best plan would be to haul a cordless drill into the cave to drill into the rock. Then we would take a bowl pin and small sledgehammer to break up the rock. It seemed pretty straightforward. We would widen the hole big enough to squeeze in and see what was on the other side. The efforts to haul all of the equipment down to the hole would be a pain, but we hoped it'd be worth it. I named the passage Floyd's tomb after Floyd Collins. It seemed to look like the tight spot where Floyd spent his last miserable days on Earth. And then OP shares a picture of kind of a drawing of what he thinks it looks like.

And yeah, super, super tight area. And they want to break through the original entrance that is, you know, three inches wide or thick. super small and then the kind of wide passageway and they want to get to the unknown area but they can't really see what's past that since it's about 20 feet away but yeah super tight space if you have claustrophobia i'm sure you're starting to get a little bit freaked out yeah super interesting and scary and then the opi leaves his note on this Floyd collins was a caver back in the early 1900s he got stuck in a tight cross space and was unable to free himself it is in an amazing story that is detailed in a book called Trapped, the Story of Floyd Collins.

I think that was the title. I don't recall the author. Calling our passage Floyd's Tomb was not only a tribute to Floyd, but a commentary of the size of the passage. Ha ha. In retrospect, it is funny how simple I thought it was going to be. I figured a few hours work and we would be in. Had I known how long it was going to take, I doubt I would have even begun the project. had I known what I was going to experience in the cave, I never would have returned.

We gathered up our gear and headed for the surface. Normally, I wouldn't care less if I ever came back into this cave. There is nothing special about it, but now I was psyched about getting back and getting through. We hadn't even left the cave and we were planning on our return trip. The rest of the journal entry talked about the climb out of the cave, our dinner, and our trip back home. January 27th through the 28th, 2001. B and I were both excited to get back into the cave and get to work. I figured with about four hours work, we would be in and see what was on the other side.

We had arranged to borrow a DeWalt cordless drill to bring with us. We also had masonry bits to drill with. Sledgehammers, two, to break up the rock, bullpins to insert into the drill holes, and a few other tools that we ended up not using. Getting the tools down to the work site proved to be a challenge. One of us would climb down the rope and stop at a ledge or good resting place. Then the other person would lower the tools.

We kept repeating this routine until we got to the bottom of the cave. Then we had to drag the tools to the hole. It took about an hour to finally get to work. B took the first turn at the hole. After an hour of exhausting work, we could tell that we were not going to get through in one session. We kept trading off after we worked ourselves into a sweat. One would take a break and get some food and water, while the other one went to work. The routine went like this.

To begin work, we had to get down on our knees and do our best to avoid smacking our heads down the ceiling. Working in this awkward position, we would drill into the wall around the hole. That was difficult work. We really had to push on the drill, and it was still slow progress. Then we inserted the bullpenn into the hole and hammered on it until the rock broke up. Then we would repeat the process. To give you an idea of how slow it went, the typical size rock that would break off was about fingernail size.

If we broke off a large piece, about a third the size of my palm, it was caused for celebration. From time to time, for a variety, we would just wail on a cold chisel with a five-pound sledge. It was slow progress. The problem with the sledge was that we couldn't take a good swing because of the tight quarters. Enough, though, we spent many hours and several trips working on the hole. We never did find a better technique for widening the hole. The drill slash bullpen slash hammer got the best results for our efforts. We came up with some crazy ideas for breaking up the rock.

Everything from T&T, never seriously considered, to hauling a generator to the mouth of the cave and running an extension cord down to a jackhammer. We even thought about using liquid nitrogen to freeze the, rock and make it more brittle. After a couple hours of hard work, we realized what our limited factor was going to be. It was about then that our first battery met an abrupt death. We had a second battery, so we swapped them out. The second battery lasted a little longer because we hammered and chiseled a little more often and a little longer each time. Finally, after about three more hours

of drudgery, the second battery died, and we called it a night. Woo! We'll. We'll. We We could tell that we had done some work in the cave, but it was not much. For the first time since we got in the cave, we sat back, both of us, took a break. It was nice to check out the results of our hard work. Then we noticed the howling again. It seemed to be a little louder than the first time we were there. We just figured the wind was blowing a little stronger outside. What we could not figure out was the rumbling.

It too seemed to be louder and more frequent. This time, we could not attribute the noise to trucks. The robe that the trucks drove on was not very busy to begin with. At the time of nights, it should be dead. Yet the rumbling continued. It seemed to be coming from deep within the passage. B said he would ask some veteran cavers, what could be causing the noise? We didn't spend a long time admiring our work.

We still had to haul the gear up and out of the cave. Actually, we left some of it in the cave. It was still difficult work. What made it worse was that we were both exhausted. Our original plan was to be done with this cave and hit a couple of other caves in the area the next day. Instead, we decided to crash at a nearby motel, charged up to the drill batteries, and go back to Mystery Cave.

And then there's the picture of the work they've done on the hole. Originally, remember, it had the super small, it was super small, I mean, barely gets your glove through it, but now it's slightly bigger. not a lot. I mean, considering they're trying to fit into that thing, they need to do a lot of work. And so they've made progress, but not a lot. My journal goes on at length about the night after we left the cave. We got a room. Dinner was excellent. I didn't sleep good despite the fact I was exhausted, etc. We both slept in, so we got a late start back into the cave.

The second day working on the cave went about the same as the first. We worked until both batteries went dead again. We were still not even close to getting through. The howling and rumbling continued as the day before. On caving. Before I continue with the next journal entry, I thought it might be helpful to the reader to explain a little bit about caving and about the atmosphere in the cave. As I reread and think about my description of the cave,

I notice that much of the language I use in my caving journal and the descriptions, or lack thereof, assume that the reader has a knowledge of in what it is like inside a cave. In other words, I write my journals from me. I will take this time to give a more detailed description of the cave. I will tell about what it was like while we worked on the cave. And I will summarize our feelings up to this point.

The cave was discovered several decades ago, when construction in the area unearthed its entrance. From that time to the present, it has been visited by mostly locals in the area and avid cavers in the region. Beer cans can be found intermittently in the cave, mostly in the upper half. When the cave was first entered, it was probably beautiful. Dust, graffiti, vandals, pigeons, and regular use have diminished its appeal.

There are still places in the cave where small formations remain undisturbed, as a reminder of what the rest of the cave used to look like. To enter the cave, one must have a good length of rope in order to repel down into the rock, A nearby tree serves as a good anchor point. Once the rope is tied to the tree, about 20 feet away from a small cliff, it can be tossed over the edge of the cliff to a small ledge, 15 feet below. Cavers can then descend the short distance to the entrance. Once inside the cave, artificial light must be used.

My light source of choice is a battery-operated helmet-mounted light, known as a TAG light. Safe caving calls for at least two sources. sources of backup lighting. For my backup lighting, I have a mini mag light mounted by my helmet, and another helmet mounted light in my pack, which I always carry with me. I also have glow sticks that I carry with me. These are not considered good sources of backup light by some, but they are good use for taking lunch breaks, and they could be used to get out of a cave if the other sources fail. After a short climb over large rocks, the caver comes to a large pit. The same rope is used to reach the bottom of the pit. The drop is only 50 feet or so, but it is not free hanging.

In other words, you can't slide straight down the rope, which is preferable. You have to snake your way around sharp rocks as you descend. The ascent is made more difficult for the same reason. The pit varies in diameter from about 10 feet to 3 or 4 in a few places. The walls are lined with a sharp white rock called popcorn. Let me correct that. It used to be white. but is now covered with dust and dirt that was kicked down from above by years of caving. The popcorn makes it painful to brush against the side of the pit. My choice of clothing is Levi's, T-shirt, gloves, and knee pads. I usually leave the cave with few scrapes, but at least I'm comfortable while I climb around inside.

The temperature is stable year-round. It feels cool in the summer and warm in the winter. We have gone in on freezing days, and 10 feet into the cave, it is warm and warm. enough that coats are not needed. It is a good temperature to work in, as we learned. For this size drop, I usually use a figure-eight descending device. For the climb up, I attach myself to the rope using a pet sole sender, but I climb up on my own without using the device. It is there merely as a safety attachment in case I slip. Other cavers have their own methods of getting down and up. At the bottom of the drop, the caver gets to do some crawling for a while. There is a small room,

about six by six feet, at the bottom that gives the caver a spot to leave his harness and descending slash ascending gear. Since there's no more steep drops, the harness is not needed and will only get in the way. Once the caver gets down to the six by six room, he can take a break under a ledge while the rest of the party comes down. Then he must drop to his knees to negotiate a 10-foot-long passage that is only a few feet high. This is where the knee pads come in handy. The floor is covered with a soft dirt, intermingled with bits of broken rock from above. The thin layer of dirt does nothing to soften the blow to the hands and knees as the caver works down the crawl space.

As a reward, at the end of the crawl, he gets to drop to his belly and scoot under a tight squeeze. Not really tight, just something low enough to make the caver scoot along in the dirt. Once the caver gets on the other side of the squeeze, there are a few feet of crawl space. then the cave opens up enough to stand. For most of the rest of the cave, the caver can stand, or at least stoop. The cave splits off into several passages at this point. Two routes wind around rocks and crevasses and come to abrupt dead ends.

The other two lead to small pools of water. Each route is fun to explore. They all lead on for a hundred feet or so in a gradual downward slope. Most of the time, the caver can walk upright in the passages. Other times, he will have to climb over large boulders, or occasionally crawl on hands and knees. Water is a common occurrence in caves. I've been told that one of the local residents

was one of the first people in the cave and that his cousin dove into the pool using scuba gear. He said the cave continued down for a couple hundred feet underwater. What they were hoping for, and what happens frequently, is that the passage comes up somewhere else with virgin cave passages to explore. Unfortunately, I don't possess the knowledge

to give more detail about the types of rocks in the cave. When we were drilling, we would have some parts that were easier to drill than others, and there were different colors in the rocks, refer to the photos taken to the cave, but that is the best I can do to describe the makeup of the cave. At the point, the cave splits into four routes. The two passages that dead end are to the immediate left of the caver. Straight ahead and to the right are the passages that lead to pools of water.

The entrance to the passage on the right is the largest of the four. The arched opening rises nearly 10 feet in the air, ending a mere foot below the cave ceiling. As the caver enters the passage and ceiling gradually lowers until it is about 6 feet high. It continues at this same height for the 40 feet that the passage travels in a continuous direction. This section of cave resembles a hard rock mine. Its arch nearly perfect in the floor flat. flat and easy to walk on. It's easy to picture rusty mine cars on rail lines, and dust covered miners with blistered hands gripping dull picks. The pseudo-mine comes to an end,

and the caver is once again forced to drop onto hands and knees and get reacquainted with the floor of the cave. This time, the crawl lasts about 20 feet. The floor is sloping gently downward for the first half of the crawl, then it gets fairly steep and slippery. Able-bodied cavers can still climb carefully down the slippery slope. When I go with B, I carry the end of the rope that we used to get down to this point. I usually need to tie another short length of the rope to the first rope to make sure he can use it to reach the bottom. The crawl lasts a few feet beyond the bottom of the slide. Over the next 10 to 12 feet, the caver slowly begins to regain the standing position. After walking a few feet, in climbing down a short drop-off, the caver arrives at a small level

area, which has a passage leading down immediately to the left. The passage ends 75 feet later at one of the small bodies of water. To the right is a rock wall. Straight ahead is an indentation in the wall which goes back about three feet. On the wall at the rear of the indent is a small hole, about the size of a softball. To get near the hole, the cave ducks under an overhang and kneels upon the rocks that rise above the floor by a few inches. By the time the cave reaches this point, he is either warm or sweating, and the first thing he notices is the cool breeze blowing out of the hole. It was my recognition of this hole as a potential doorway to an unexplored portions of the cave that ultimately led to this telling of my experience.

As has been my tradition for all the years I've been caving, the party reaches a point in the cave, usually at the deepest part of the cave, that all lights are extinguished, complete blackness fills the eyes. moment, the individual caver strains the eye muscles, focusing in and out with the expectation of catching a crumb of light somewhere in the false night. After several futile moments, the caver turns his head at the sound, perhaps another caver, only to have the other senses return, and then heightened. The sounds, smells, and feelings that have been overlooked at this point come racing to the caver in perfect detail, the pain of their own behind sitting on the

cave floor. The smell of dust, sweat, guineau, the sound of modern material shifting on age-old rock as cavers attempt to find comfort on this solid foundation. At the back of every caver's mind at this time is what if? What if a person had to climb out of the cave with no light? Would he make it? Would he find all of the turns and bends which got him to this place? If not, would a rescue party find him in time? The depth of darkness recognized at this time is something that is rarely experienced outside a cave. Many first-time cavers erroneously declare that they have to hold their hand to within two to three inches of their face before they can see it. The truth is the human eye is incapable of seeing in an absence of light.

If they did not hear something coming toward them, they would feel it before they saw it. Complete and total dark. This exercise is a great way to be. to remind people to take backup lighting. As we proceeded to work in the cave, we developed a system pretty early and little changed in succeeding trips. The first time in the cave B took first shift at chipping away at the opening. After about in half hour, he needed a break so it took over. He told me what worked best and I continued doing the same. We would try new things from time to time to use new muscles but usually stuck to the same method. We would use the masonry bit and press on the

drill as hard as we could and drill out a hole in the rock. Safety glasses and dust masks were worn while working. Then we would insert the bullpen and hammer into the rock and break out small chunks of the cave. Then we would drill another hole and repeat the process. Occasionally the drill would hit a soft spot in the rock and that would step would be shortened. We would work until we became too tired to continue. Then B and I would trade. While one of us was working, the other one would remain in the darkness and either eat or drink or just lay down on the cave floor, padded by rope bags. After just a few rotations, we were tired enough to catch a nap while taking a break. The only light we used was the helmet light on the head of the worker, since it was pointing

toward the hole. The resting person was left mostly in the dark. This was a welcome benefit, since the resting person was usually, well, resting. The rest break was also a chance to cool down a which didn't take long in the cooler temperature of the cave. Fortunately, the temperature of the cave allowed us to work pretty hard and not overheat much. I remember that I frequently looked and the hole and thought, Hey, it's big enough. I think I can squeeze through, only to be disappointed in my attempt. However, even after the first attempt and failure,

I knew that I would keep working on the hole until I got through. This despite the fact that I knew it would take many more hours of hard work. It actually became an obsession with me. I tried to get out to the cave and work as often as I could. I hope that the passage led to a larger, undiscovered cave that we would be the first ones to enter. I guess the explorer in me wanted to find a new frontier there in the cave. Since B is such an avid caver, he was motivated by the same desire to find a new unexplored cave.

What we did find was not at all what I expected. February 10, 2001. Scarcely two weeks had gone by, and already we are on our way back out to work in the cave. We admit we have become obsessed with the idea of getting through the passage. That may be a sign of how exciting our lives really are. It's not that we think there is going to be something great beyond the passage. We just like the idea of being the first humans on the face of the planet to set foot in a virgin part of the cave. Although if we found a hidden treasure, That would be found with us. We got a late start and drove part of the way in the dark. When I tell people that I go caving at night, they wonder why. They don't stop to think that it is always night once you're inside the cave. All the way out to Mystery Cave, we talked about new ideas to speed up our work. B also told me he talked to some caver friends of his that came up with an explanation about the rumbling noise.

They thought it might be the sound of water deep within the cave, possibly a waterfall. They couldn't really explain what the noise seemed to come and go. To me, it is just one more reason to get through, so we can solve the mystery. This trip, we took Bees Dog. Whip. She says Jack Russell Terrier. I was not at all concerned about taking the dog into the cave. We have taken her before.

She answers the call of nature before we go in and then waits until we get out again. Also, she is well behaved inside the cave. We simply had to lower her via a custom-making. harness until she reached the bottom of the main drop. Then she negotiated the rest of her own. She loves to explore, but won't go out of our sight. She doesn't have a light attached to her, so she has to wait for us. Another reason I didn't mind bringing whip along was because we planned on putting her into the small hole and see how far into the passage she would go. That might give us an idea what is on the other side. We knew that if there were a drop-off that we couldn't see,

would turn around and come right back out. We thought we might have to do some work on the hole before even the dog could get through. And then there's a picture of Bees Dog, Whip. Just going through the cave, a cute picture. Despite working in the dark of the night, we were able to rig up and get down pretty quickly. We didn't take as many tools as last time. Plus, we left some in the hole so we wouldn't have to haul the mountain back in again. I did manage to get two more batteries for the drill for a total of four. Also, a few more masonry drill bits. Even with the dog, we made good time getting down. Then something bizarre happened that I can't quite explain. The dog began exploring as soon as we let her off the rope. She was in hog heaven, sniffing and

darting around around our feet. She would run from one person to the other as we made our way back to the work site. At the point the cave splits into four passages, the dog seemed to run out of juice. She just stuck right by either B or me. That seemed kind of odd. As we progressed further into the cave, she would only stay with B. She seemed edgy, like she saw something she didn't like. As we approached the short drop-off before the hole, she stopped and would only come further after we coaxed her. The hair on her back stood on end. Finally, as we got to within 20 feet of the hole, she began to wimper, and hide behind B. Her tail was between her legs and she was cowering down on the ground.

Strange. I have seen her square off with dogs twice her size, but now she acted as if Satan himself was lurking in the darkness. I figured there must have been animals that used the cave as a home, and Whip smelled their scent. Too bad it upset her because there was no way she was going into the passageway. We decided that with this new development, the nervous dog, one of us would work while the other one stayed with the dog a few feet away from where we normally rested.

We got right back into our routine of drilling, hammering, etc. With our extra supply of batteries, we were able to really push hard on the drill and not have to worry about using up the batteries. This did not make our work any easier, but it did speed things up a little bit. Progress was still slow. I really didn't mind it though. My journal goes on for a while about the progress we were making. entire time we worked, Whip did not move. She just laid there on a rope bag, shivering. She would whimper from time to time. One thing I didn't think about at the time was that she would not take

her eyes off of the hole. We should have been more observant of this intuitive animal. We were on the fourth battery when the second bizarre thing happened to us. B was working. He had just finished drilling a hole and was getting ready to hammer at the bullpen when he stopped working and looked into the hole. I was kicking back, almost asleep, and hardly paying attention to be. He had a light by his side to illuminate the work area. I could see in the eerie glow a puzzled and intense look on his face. He looked over at me and shook his head.

I asked him what was up. He said that he swore he just heard a strange noise emanating from the hole. He said it sounded like rock sliding on a rock, sort of a grinding sound. I assumed his ears were just. just ringing from the drill. He didn't wear any earplugs this trip. He assured me he heard what he said he heard. I didn't have any explanation, so I went back to dozing. B. sat in the quiet of the cave for a long time before he resumed work. Also, he would stop from time to time and just listen. B is very grounded and not one to pursue some imaginary sound. I believe he heard

something, but I'm not too concerned about what it was. I assume we will figure it all out to one we get through the passage. The final battery lasted another hour or so. We were sitting around, talking about our progress, when I decided to see if I could get my head through the hole. My head easily fit, but there was no way my shoulders were going in. As I was kneeling there, contemplating how close we were, I noticed something that be overlooked.

The wind had stopped. In all of the times I've been in the cave, I have always felt the wind blowing. The last time we were out working on the cave, wind was blowing worse than ever. Even earlier, we remembered the breeze cooling us off. But now, nothing. Bee said he did not know when it stopped. The rumbling had ceased, too. Bizarre. This plain old cave was becoming mysterious. We talked for a long time in the dark of the cave. We debated what could possibly be causing these unusual events to occur. I think part of the reason we were sitting

in the dark was because we were both too hammered to move. We would have to be. We would have to come up with no reasonable explanation for the strange things happening in the cave. After sitting for at least a half hour, we slowly loaded up our gear and started for the surface. Whip couldn't have been happier to get out of there. Once again, we left some of other tools in the cave. We just put them in the hole. Not enough people used the cave to worry about. Plus, we were too tired to care. We made a lot of progress this trip. It helps to have the extra batteries. We still have a long way to go, but it's just a lot of. sure is nice to see how far we have come. And then he attaches a photo of the cave or the hole,

and yeah, they are making great progress. It looks like they'll be through the hole pretty soon, but yeah, definitely a lot bigger of a hole than when they first started. And then O.P. leaves a note saying the rest of the journal entry talks about climbing out of the cave, getting a room at a motel, and crashing. We were beat. In retrospect, I can't believe how casual we were about everything that was happening in the cave. At the time, the only thing we could think about was getting into the passage. Everything else was just a minor distraction. I do recall thinking that it would be nice to get in and see how the mechanics of the cave worked, where the wind was coming from, what was making the noise, etc. Now, weeks later, I think of my ignorance

and naivete and shiver. March 3rd through 4th, 2001. It took us three weeks before we got back out to the mystery cave again. Our attitudes have changed a bit since we first started the project. In the beginning, we looked at the whole thing as a fun adventure. Since the last trip out, we found ourselves taking a more serious approach. On the drive-out this time, our conversation was a little more subdued than before. We had to talk much since the last trip, not for any reason but scheduling conflicts, Instead of discussing ways of getting through the passage, we found ourselves talking about rational explanations for what had happened.

Neither of us had any ideas that would explain the unusual occurrences we experienced on the last trip. We were amused to find out that neither one of us had talked much about the last trip to other people. That is a complete reversal from the other trips. It has been fun to report to friends and family about our progress. It is always fun to tell people about the tight squeeze we are going to have to go to go to. through to get into the passage. Most people have little desire to voluntarily subject themselves to incredibly tight places. Actually, neither do I, but I will do it in order to get to the other side. Good motivation. We left town early in the afternoon to beat traffic. I don't really recall what time we

finally got to the cave. Like I said, the mood was subdued. We got rigged up and started down. Obviously, B. left the dog home this time. We took essentially the same gear as the last time. We left some of the tools in the hole to save our backs the agony of hauling the extra weight. Even with the gear, we got down in good time. We really have a good system for getting up and down. There was only one minor mishap this time. B scraped his arm on the descent.

Not real bad, fortunately. He waited until we got all the way to the hole to patch it up. It was just a superficial cut. While he was getting the wound cleaned up, I started working. We both took note that the breeze was back in the rumbling present. We had four fresh batteries and four, or maybe three and a half fresh arms. I had high hopes this would be the day. It started out pretty slow.

When we first started working on the hole, the thickness was about three inches. As we have enlarged the hole, the thickness has increased. As a result, our progress had become slower. Still, we continued with as much energy as we could put into the work. The hole was big enough, at least for me, to put the hammer into the hole for reference. Then put the camera into the hole and take a picture of Floyd's tomb. And then he says it is difficult to get the exact feel of the tomb, but the lowest point, near the back of the picture, is about 7 inches high.

The width is about 20 to 24 inches. The hammer is a small 5-pound sledge. Note the amount of rock on the floor. And look at the hole here. Like, geez, you could not catch me climbing through that. That is sketchy as hell, but they're making good progress. It's been nice to see the pile of broken rock below the hole get bigger and bigger. We have both realized that we're just going to have to put in a certain amount of work in order to get through.

So we just get down to business. We don't usually talk much while we work, since one of us is making a lot of noise with the drill or hammer. Break times are used to chat momentarily. about whatever topic pops into mind. The breaks take place whenever the guy that's working decides to switch roles. We both put in some pretty good work sessions. I have a little more stamina than B, but he gets just as much done in a shorter amount of time

due to his upper body strength. We still celebrate the small victories we encounter along the way. Whenever a section we've been working on crumbles, we cheer. On the rare occasion that a fist-sized rock falls from the entrance, we whoop and holler. That's one small chunk of earth that no longer separates us from whatever lies on the other side.

I still harbor the fantasy that there's a hidden entrance to the other side of the passage and years ago, Spanish explorers hid their treasures in the cave and sealed up the entrance. And it has remained untouched until we find it.

B has a more realistic, although more mundane theory. He figures there is just more cave on the other side. We'll see who is right. This trip out, I wanted to see if we could speed up the work by using larger masonry bits. I purchased some good-sized one at the hardware store at a good-sized price. One was larger in diameter than all the rest.

The other was smaller round, but longer. I had pretty much concluded that the big one might be too big. And I was right. We tried to get it in and go into the rock, but progress was very slow. We tried pushing for all we were worth and all we got was tired. The larger bit just created too much friction area for our strength. It might have worked with a hammer drill, but we didn't have one. The longer bit worked fine with our drill.

We relied on it for most of the work we did this trip. I thought we were going to be out one bit, and a drill in my hand. When the bit broke off towards one end, I was pushing it as hard as I could on the drill with the bit a few inches in the wall. When it snapped, I nearly rammed the drill through the wall from pushing so hard. We were able to retrieve the bit. it and keep using it, minus a couple inches. It still worked great. Only once in a great while did we resort to hammer and chisel. Work was proceeding as normal, until about the time we were on our

fourth battery. I was kneeling down and working the drill slowly into the wall at the time. I had my earplugs in, my safety glasses on, and was lost in my own thoughts. Suddenly, over the squeal of the drill wearing down the rock, I heard a strange noise. It was loud. I could hear it over the noise of the drill, even though I had the earplugs in. At first I thought it was just the drill bit doing its job on the cave. It would frequently complain by screeching and whining as we force it into the wall. But this was different.

It took me several full seconds to comprehend that this was coming from inside the hole and not the bit. I stopped drilling and yanked my earplugs out just in time to hear the most terrible scream I have ever heard trail off and echo into the darkness of the cavern. I stared, wide-eyed at the hole. For several moments, I didn't move, nor did I breathe. I turned to look at B. Moments earlier, he had been lying on the rope bag catching a nap. Now he was just standing upright, mouth open, with a look of concern on his face.

I turned and looked into the hole again, half expecting to see a demon face staring back at me. Nothing was different in Floyd's tomb. I fixed my gaze on the back of the squeeze where the limits of my light reached. There was no motion. Only darkness beyond the reaches of my light. In the complete darkness and silence that followed, I could hear my heart pounding in my ears. Not another sound could be heard in the cave. Suddenly, I heard a scraping noise behind me and straightened up.

I nearly knocked myself out, hitting my head on the overhang. It was just being moving to turn on its light, but I was so wired and nearly sent me to my grave. Be spoke and again I jumped. He said to get some rocks and put them into the hole. He explained that whatever animal had made that noise might be able to get through the hole. I immediately grabbed a few rocks and hoisted them through the opening.

Using the handful of the sledgehammer, I slid the rocks as far back into the tunnel as I could reach, creating a wall between us and the other side. Since the squeeze is so small, it didn't take long. The entire time I was doing this, however, I was thinking that the noise certainly did not come from an animal. I didn't know if B really thought it was, or if he was just trying to convince himself. I didn't say anything to him about what I thought. From the time it happened to the writing of this journal entry, two days later,

I have tried to come up with some possible source for such a noise. To describe it, I would say it sounded like a cross between a man screaming and fear and a cougar screaming in pain. It sounded like it came from the hole and it was roughly 100 feet away. The horrific noise reverberated through the cave and through my ears. Be estimated the scream lasted 8 to 10 seconds.

My best guess is about 5 seconds. Three seconds while I was drilling, one and a half seconds to drop the drill and yank the ear plugs, and half a second of sheer terror. It's difficult to tell how much time passes when you're listening to a solo from the depths of Hades. After I filled the back of the passage with rocks,

we just sat there listening to the silence. My breathing was a lot more rapid than usual. Neither of us spoke for quite some time. Finally, be suggested we get back to work, but keep an eye out for movement in the hole. We put a light in the passage that shined to the back of Floyd's tomb. It was only at this point that we realized the wind had stopped again, and the rumbling could no longer be heard.

To say I was nervous would be an understatement. I didn't say anything to be, nor him to me. Back to the drilling. B took over the work, which was fine with me. I wasn't exactly worn out, but I didn't mind being further from the hole. B would stop from time to time and listen. I just sat, watching him, with my light on. I wasn't close to the entrance of this hole, but I still found myself,

looking behind me down the passage to the still water. Every time my light would cast an unusual shadow, my heart would jump. My imagination was running wild. Oddly, Bees seemed to be less concerned about the strange noise than me. After a short time, he seemed to be focused entirely on getting through the passage. I was still straining to listen above the sound of the drill. I heard nothing but the now familiar sound of carbide on stone. As I contemplated the possible, I was still straining to listen possible scenarios which might play out on the other side of the passage, I found myself strangely getting somewhat excited again about getting through. It might have been fatigue taking his toll on my mind or the thought of something valuable on the other side. My thoughts were broken when

be let out of yell, possibly a cuss word. He said the drill battery was dying, but he hadn't quite broken off a large relative section he was working on. He set the useless drill aside and picked up a hammer and bullpen. He started wailing away at the hole created by the bit. After nearly 10 solid minutes of hammering, he sat back against the rock. Sweating and nearly out of breath. The bullpen was still protruding from the cave wall. He held the hammer toward me, inviting me to take a few swings. I held up my hand and shook my head. I had been ready to exit this cave for quite a while now. He didn't press the issue. And without speaking, we both started gathering the gear we were going to take out. Once again, we stashed some of the tools in the passage.

I was first to start toward the top of the cave. Several times I had to stop and wait for B. Not because he was moving slow. I was just more than eager to get out. Few times have I felt better than that night. Stepping out into the chilly night air. My journal talks about the rest of the evening, our dinner, our decision to get a motel and come back the next day. our lengthy discussion of these strange sounds we had heard, another mediocre night's sleep, I cannot believe that we were so willing to get right back into the cave after hearing the scream.

Part of the reason I went along with the idea was because B seemed so indifferent to any possible dangers. Even if it were an animal, which I did not believe, but could offer no better explanation, weren't we possibly putting ourselves in harm's way? In retrospect, I still have difficulty understanding our thought process at the time. We were just too eager to discover Virgin Cave Passages. I now think it can be summed up with one word. Testosterone. February 13th, it's amazing what a

couple good meals and a little sleep can do for someone's attitude. Even though we still had memories of the strange noise fresh in our minds, we relit our fire of enthusiasm. The other side of the passage seemed so close. We were sure this would be the day. We got to the cave and started to work our way down to the hole. Getting back into the darkness of the cave brought back the memories of the night before. The sight of the circle of rock illuminated by our headlamps, the smell of dirt in the air, the sound we made as we crawl across the rock. Once we reached the entrance to Floyd's tomb, however, we were once again ready to blaze the trail leading to an undiscovered part of the cave. We immediately noted the presence of debris blowing out of the hole and the rumbling.

The bullpen sticking out of its hole was an obvious sign of where we needed to begin our work for the day. B took over where he left off the day before. I took up residence in the same spot I occupied the night before, even though I was already well rested and wanting to start work. B was making the hammer sing with each blow. After a mere two or three minutes, he led out a chair. He turned to reveal a handful of rock that used to be attached to the cave. He was breathing heavy, but had a big smile on his face. So did I. For the first time, the strange noise had been forgotten.

In the vision of success, captured our attention. And then there's a picture of the new hole, which is much bigger now, and I can't really tell how big it is at this point, but it looks like they're getting closer and closer to finally being able to get through. And then he continues saying, The lower left-hand corner of the hole had been giving us grief because of the thickness of the wall at that point. We felt that if we could just remove that corner,

we might be on our way inside. B now held his hand that crumbled remains of the corner. Our excitement consumed us as we examined the hole. I took the hammer and pounded away at the surface of the hole. The idea was to remove the jagged edges that would take their toll on my skin. The size looked right. Now the moment we had been working for, I cautiously approached the entrance to Floyd's tomb. I decided the best way to enter this small hole was to place one arm over my head,

turn my head sideways, and slowly work my way in. I soon determined this was not going to work. The hole was small. If I was going to make it in without widening the hole anymore, I was going to have to put both my arms over my head in a diving position, turn my head sideways and slip into the tomb. The width of the entrance was the limiting factor. The height was sufficient.

The arms overhead position flared my shoulder blades out, but there was still room to get in. Plus the arms overhead gave me the best squeeze side to side. In order to enter straight into the hole, I stood on my feet and bent over to get level with the entrance. My knees were bent and the position was uncomfortable, sort of a semi-squadding position. bent at the waist with arms overhead.

Plus, I had to slightly turn my upper torso to the left in a counterclockwise rotation to negotiate the angle of the entrance. Notice in the last photo that the entrance generally slopes up to the right. I got my arms through the entrance with minor scrapes. Next came my head. By keeping it turned sideways, I was able to get in. For the most part, up to my shoulders. When I got to my shoulders, I could feel the rocks touching all around.

my shoulders and chest. It was not stopping me, but I was definitely scraping many surfaces of my body. I decided to just push through, keeping my mind that I was going to have to come back out eventually. The pain was not too bad, and I was in. Well, my upper body was in. At least I could get a good idea what the tomb was going to look like. And then he posts a picture saying, here's a flattering photo of my best side. Notice the size of the area we had to work in. the ledge overhead was an obstacle. And yeah, that photo is terrifying. I mean, that just gives me the hebi-jeebies.

Look how tight that hole is. And this is just good reference, because now we can kind of see where they've been working in. And God, such a eerie place. Once inside the tomb, I had a few inches all around me in which to position my body. This was the largest part of the passage, and it was conveniently located right at the beginning of the crawl.

that gave me a little room to get positioned to crawl further into the passage. Inside the tomb gave me a whole new outlook of what it was going to be like to crawl through. Even though this was the largest part of the crawl, it was still small. I could move my head around freely, but every direction that I turned, I was staring at a wall of solid rock. When I spoke to B, my voice sounded muffled, like I was talking in a small box. I could rest my chest on the passage floor, but the rocks were uncomfortable. I turned my head to look further ahead, but couldn't see past the wall of rocks I had built the day before.

The squeeze toward the end of the passage was closer now, and appeared even narrower. I didn't know if I could squeeze through that or not. I knew it would be close. I wanted to crawl further into the passage. First, however, I had to work to get some of those loose rocks that were laying in the passage floor out of my way. I was disappointed to find out that most of the rocks that looked loose were actually attached to the floor.

I was hoping to be able to just scrape them out of the way. I had pushed the sledge hammer into the passage before me. So at this point I used it to push the rock, wall, we had made further back in the passage. Then I dragged the sledge back and forth across the floor to make any loose rocks or break up the solid ones. By sliding the head of the hammer under the squeeze, I determined that the narrowest part of the squeeze was about seven inches high. I figured we would have to do some work before I could slip through. The entire time I had my head in the passage, B was just kicking back, listening to my descriptions and progress reports. At some point, he snapped the photo shown above. Thanks, B. Up to this point,

the size of the passage was not too big of a deal. I was in an incredibly small passage, but only my upper body was in. And since it was the largest part of the passage, and my arms could move freely, I was pretty calm. Then it was time for a push. I slid the sledge hand, and I slid the sledge hand, hammer up as far as I could reach. Since my body filled the entrance, I could not slip the tool out, so it was easier to push it ahead. In order to rotate my hips to the proper angle to enter the hole, I had to lean my upper body on my forearms, use my feet to climb the wall outside the hole, and slowly crawl into the hole. My hips barely fit. Once they cleared the entrance, I could relax a bit and get in position to work toward the squeeze. I decided to try the one-arm forward

technique to get through. The passage was so narrow that whatever position I started with, I would have to stay with through the entire length. There was just no room to move around or change positions. I would also have to turn my head one way or another and keep it in the same position. This crawl was tight. Moving forward at this part of the passage was relatively easy. I could use my forward arm, my left arm, to pull and my other arm to push. At the same time, I would wiggle my body, trying to arch as much as I could to keep my chest off the rocks. I tried both ways and determined that I would turn my head to the right. It felt the most comfortable.

I began to learn things as I went. I determined that a small flashlight in one hand would be nice. Then I could shine ahead and get a better idea what I was about to crawl over. This was a difficult maneuver because I had to look overhead, since my head was turned. It became immediately obvious that we were going to have to do some more work removing rocks from the passage floor. As I moved along the surface, I was constantly scraping my chest on the rocks. They were sharp and it was painful. Occasionally, I would cause a rock to slide along under my chest and actually wedge me between it in the top of the passage. I would then have to back up and either

try to move the rock to the side with my cheek, using a sweeping motion with my head, or back way out and move it with my forward hand. My little trip into the passage represented a major milestone in my caving career. When I began caving, I did not feel overly comfortable going through tight spaces. Even the little squeeze at the beginning of this cave was an obstacle to overcome. By pushing myself and forcing myself to try the narrow passages, I have become much calmer about tight spaces. Still, this passage represented a new benchmark in small spaces. I had not been faced with anything this small. I don't remember having to take off my helmet before now. With this passage, It is mandatory.

As I mentioned before, not only do I have to take off my helmet, but I have to turn my head to the side in order to fit. The journey into the tomb went like this. After I had twisted my hips into the passage, I took a few minutes to stop and work out a game plan. Most of the length of my legs were still outside the entrance. They were just dangling in the air. The tomb was still big enough to move my head around and even moved my arms freely into the position.

It was larger than the rest of the passage, but not by much. It was like sticking your head into a box. Everywhere I looked, there were rocks, and not too far from my head. And a sound I made was muffled and dead. The narrowest part of the passage was about 10 feet in. At this point, I was about 3.5 feet in. At about the 4 footmark, I would have to commit to whatever position I felt comfortable, and stay that way until the 12-foot mark, at which time the cave started opening up.

I went with my left arm forward and head turned to the right. B had given me a flashlight that I held in my left hand. As I inched forward, I would try to brush the loose rocks away with my left arm. This was somewhat successful, but there were a lot of rocks I missed or could not move. As mentioned, the first little bit of the crawl moved along fairly quickly. There was a little room above me to negotiate the passage, then the wall started to close in around me. I had a few... Going on vacation?

We're here for it. With kids, who turned the backseat into a courtroom drama over whose tablet is louder, whose charger is faster, and while watching the same cartoon for the hundredth time is a human right? Yep, we totally have vehicles to handle that. Because whether it's a road trip or a business trip, where your flight's delayed, your phone's at 2% and your dinner is... Weather is open? Yeah, here for that too.

Enterprise. We're here for it. here for it. Extra inches on each side of me, but the top of the crawl was getting very low. At about the seven foot mark, I could feel the top rubbing my back as I would arch. After another half foot, I couldn't arch anymore. I had to just push ahead with my toes and pull with my forward arm. I decided it would be a good time to see if I could back out. I tried it, and it was pretty easy. That gave me a lot more confidence. Still, I had B-Tie webbing to my feet, just in case he had to pull me out. Last shot before my feet were all the way in. Note the webbing be tied at my request. In this picture, he links, is just insane. I mean, look how tight it is. He can barely get his

feet in. I can't imagine sliding into a hole like that. I'm just insane. I'm super interested to see what he finds at the back of the passage, though. My neck was starting to get sore from being cranked to the side. My head was getting heavy. heavy, but to rest it was the only option I had was to lay it down on the broken rocks. It was painful, but I did it frequently. I was staring at the wall to my right. It was a mere 45 inches from my face. Most of the time, I wasn't watching the wall. Either I had my eyes closed, which I sometimes do when I go through a tight spot, or the light wasn't shining in a direction that did me any good. It was very quiet in the tomb, other than my own breath. I was breathing

heavy from the effort it took to move. Thankfully, the breeze was present and cooled me off. By lifting my head and carefully touching the ceiling from time to time, I could gauge the size of the passage that my body would soon pass through, much like a cat using its whiskers to gauge an opening in a fence. At the seven-and-a-half footmark, I could tell things were about to get real tight. While lying in the darkness, in a passage deep within a cave, one is in a unique position to ponder. A mountain literally resting on top of me, the entire earth lying below. One tiny movement of earth and I would cease to exist. Or worse, to recognize the fear shared by Floyd Collins as he lay there, trapped for days deep within the heart of Mother Earth,

incapable of freeing himself from his earthen prison. Picture yourself in my position. lying on your stomach. Your left arm is extended over your head. Your right arm is at your side, having only a few inches in which to move. Your arms and hands are sore and bleeding from crawling slash pulling yourself across the broken rocks. Your entire body is resting on the rocks.

Your neck gets tired of holding your head off the rock so you gently rest your cheek on the rock to rest. Once you start again, you have to push with your toes to scoot your body forward, sliding across the rocks. After moving a few inches, you are breathing hard and have to rest. As you inhale, you can feel your back pressing hard against the top of the squeeze. It takes several minutes before you recover enough to press forward. The entire time, you were laying there. You think about how you were going to get back out.

And what if? Well, that's pretty much what I was going to. through at that point in the passage. I decided that this would be a good time to throw in a photo of the squeeze. The photo was actually taken on a different trip, but it shows how tight things were at that point in the passage. Notice my head toward the side, not by choice, and you can see how I would rest my cheek on the rocks. You can also see how difficult it is to look ahead of me. My arms are pinned to my side. I later determined that would be the best position. There is virtually, notice, space between the top of the passage and my back. Tight, not for the claustrophobically inclined,

and then the picture of him in Floyd's tomb. And this is the classic photo of Ted the Caver, but oh my God, how scary of a picture is that. When I reached the points where my back was rubbing and I could feel with my head that the passage was not getting bigger, I knew I was most likely not going to get through. Still, I decided to give it one more push. If I had been in this position a year ago, I would have been in a state of panic, but not today. I was pretty pumped. I took a few minutes to rest, then I went for it. I exhaled completely all of the air in my lungs. This caused my chest to collapse enough to scoot forward a few inches. Because it takes so much effort to scoot, I only went to few inches before I had to stop and breathe.

As I inhaled, my chest pressed hard against the floor and my back against the top. It took a little longer to get my breath back. Unbelievably, I did it again. Exhale, scoot, rest. Again, only a few inches. Repeat. I took a few extra minutes to enjoy this position. Pinned in this small passage.

Wow. I could not believe how relaxed I was. was. I tried one more time to exhale and scoot. My back was rubbing too much to continue. Despite the failed effort, I was psyched. I took several long minutes to lay there and recover from the effort. B had been encouraging me the entire time. It was fun to hear him cheer as he saw my shoes go deeper and deeper into the hole. Backing out was not too difficult, but it did take some work. I encountered the same obstacles as when I went in. After I wiggled my hips out of the hole, which took some time,

I had trouble getting my shoulders out. Both arms were overhead at this point. My shirt was getting caught on the rocks and my shoulders were brushing the sharp rocks. After struggling to find a good position, I gave up and just pulled my upper body out. Scrape! My shirt pulled up over my head, and I had some nice scrapes on my shoulders. But I didn't care.

To me, this trip was a success. I had pushed myself beyond what I thought was possible. I kneeled at the entrance and looked into the narrow passage I had just been in. The rock wall was now at the 11 footmark. I had pushed it a little with my forward arm. The smallest point was at the 9 footmark. We were close. Between the work and the excitement I was tired.

I just sat in the rope bag, grinning. Woo. What a trip. And then he shared. is a picture of the progress on the hole. And you can see how it started with barely even a glove and then a little bit bigger, a little bit bigger, and now big enough for them to get through. Pretty crazy they made that much progress in making the hole bigger. And then he says, the rest of the journal entry talks about the usual, our climb out, dinner, trip home, etc.

On our way home, we brainstormed and came up with some ideas that would help us get through. We both invested some tools to remove the rock on the floor deep within the passage. We were both very excited by this trip. I from pushing my limits in the cave and B from his success in climbing out of the cave. This was the first time he was able to climb all the way out without the help of climbing devices, nor my help. It was a personal success that showed the progress he has made since his accident. Pretty cool. I remained amazed that we could so easily forget the terrified of the terrifying,

moment we experienced just the day before. All had been forgotten, with the strange noise being blamed in our minds on some rational, harmless explanation. April 7th, 2001. Prior to going back out to Mystery Cave again, we spent a lot of time repairing. We made a squeeze box, which is a wooden box, the opening of which can be adjusted in size. We could then crawl through the opening and measure to see how tight of a squeeze we could fit through. From that we are able to determine that I need about eight inches in height to get through the smallest portion of Floyd's tomb. That meant we would have to scrape out about an inch from the floor of the passage. We also learned that the best position I would need to get through the passage would be on my stomach, with my arms by my side. And of course,

my head would be turned one way or the other. That position allowed my shoulder blades to drop to their lowest point. In order to move, I would push forward, or backward with my toes. It sounds difficult, but felt adequate. Later, it proved to work sufficiently. The second thing we did to prepare was to construct the tools we invented to work with in the cave. I came up with a clever way to chibaway inside of the passage without having to climb inside. I had my neighbor welled together several lengths of steel pipe in a manner that would allow us to take it apart while we climb down to the tomb, but still had the strength necessary to hold up to a a blow from a hammer once it was together. We made our own tips that we could screw into our pipe

to reach the area we needed to work on. Bee came up with a cool design for a scraper using angle iron. He had his neighbor welded together. It proved to be an invaluable tool for scraping and removing the rock. We were both proud of our inventions. I also made a device to hold my drill that attached to our pipe. We ended up not using it since B's scraper device worked so well. Here is a picture of B, edited to protect his identity with the pipe we made. I took the picture, facing away from the tomb. He is sitting on the rope bag that we use as a bed. Behind him to his left is the passage that leads down to the still water. Behind him, to his right, is the last drop-off before the passage. You can see some orange webbing we used to climb down and up. And cool picture,

and it kind of gives context to everything. I mean, he's holding the scraper device, and I mean, God, I can't imagine spending hours and hours down there like these guys did. That's so creepy. I took an oath. I made a vow. I would not leave the cave until I had made it through the passage.

Conquered Floyd's tomb. This would be the trip. It had been a long time since we had been out to mystery. We had been busy, though. We had made the tools we had talked about. It was fun coming up. the ideas for tools. Also, we made a squeeze box to determine the best technique for getting through the tight spot. Plus, we knew about how much rock we need to remove before we could get through.

We were excited to get back out to the cave to finish our project. Our climb down to the passage took a little bit longer than usual since we had extra tools to carry. Once we got down to the passage, we immediately got to work using B's scraping tool. With the pipe I have made, it worked like a charm. We could hammer the pipe on one end and the scraping tool on the other end dug into the rock. Then we could push the debris all the way through the passage and out of our way. When we needed to measure our progress, we would turn the scraper sideways in the passage and observe the clearance. We worked for about two hours before I had a desire to try the tomb. I just wanted to make sure I was going to make it through on the first try. B made one more sweep of the passage floor, clearing any loose rocks from where I would be

crawling and pushing the wall we had made to the back of the squeeze. I made preparations for the crawl by fashioning duct tape suspenders to prevent my shirt from sliding around while sliding around the rock. I went with a flashlight in my hand, even though my hand would be at my side. I knew I would need it once I got through. As an expression of faith, I did not tie a rope to my feet. I was confident I was going to make it. Finally, I made the attempt. Although I didn't mention it in my journal, we did notice the breeze was back, in the rumbling present. Since we didn't do any work to the entrance, I had to go through the same dance routine to even enter the passage. Once I got my upper body through the hole, I shined the flashlight ahead of me to work out a plan of attack.

The passage didn't seem any bigger than last time I was there, but most of the work was done deeper in the squeeze. I paused for a few minutes, then twisted my hips to get my lower body in. I slowly inch forward as my entire body slowly filled the passage. Before I was completely in, I got into position for the push. I dropped both of my hands to my side and turned my head to the right. Then I began to inch forward. Once my toes were inside the cave, I used them to push forward. To keep from scraping in my body, I would walk using my shoulders, knees, and toes.

Progress was slow but steady. That was fine by me. foot or two before the tight spot I could already tell there was a little more room. Even so, I began to touch the roof of the passage with my back. This time, however, I was able to continue moving forward. I reached the lowest point in the passage, and I could tell it was still going to be tricky. Even with the work we had done clearing out the loose rocks, I still felt sharp pebbles rolling under my chest as I slid along. When I could feel my back brushing the top of the passage and several places, I reverted to my technique of exhaling. Before I began, however,

I took a minute to lay there in the passage. I could see the glow of B's flashlight as the rays of light managed to squeeze past my body. I could feel the cool breeze evaporate the drops of dirty sweat on my forehead. I could feel a thousand sharp edges dip into the surface of my skin. I felt the twinge of excitement as I realized that the goal we had set out to achieve weeks ago was about to be realized. This thought alone made me want to keep moving, no matter how tight the passage became. I breathed in and out rapidly for a few moments.

Then began. Exhale, scoot, stop to catch my breath, repeat. After just a few inches of scooting, I could raise my head off the floor of the squeeze and tell that the passage was beginning to open up. I relayed this information to be,

and we both took a few seconds to celebrate. During the rest of the slide through the passage, B was cheering me on. Virgin Passage and Neil Armstrong territory were the phrases kept repeating. I was grinning ear to ear. Even though the passage was beginning to get larger, it was still slow going.

I had to continue scooting along for another foot and a half before I could slide my arms underneath me to use them to crawl. At that point, I felt my journey was essentially over. I was able to sit up slightly and move the rock while we had erected several trips ago. Those rocks served as a somber reminder that a little caution would be wise. I shouted back to B that I was through. We both took a moment to congratulate ourselves on our success. B would likely never be able to squeeze through the passage and see what I was seen.

So I gave him a description of what the cave looked like. At this point, I only had my mini-mag so I could not see very far into the passage. The end of the passage made a gentle right turn and seemed to go for a ways. I was unable to do anything at this point but sit due to the size of the passage. All of the broken rocks we had pushed through Floyd's tomb were around me at this point. There were no other signs of human intrusion. I had to wait until B passed me, my helmet light, to get a better feel for the cave. B used the pole we made to slide me at the end of a rope.

Then I was able to pull all of my gear through the squeeze. The first thing he sent through was my helmet. and light. After I got the light fired up, I was able to see our new section of cave. Hours. It was an exciting experience to see the results of hours of hard work over the course of several weeks. At this point, we still had no idea what the cave had to offer. The only thing I could see was the passage immediately following the squeeze. It was a narrow passage with a low ceiling. I would easily be able to get through it, but I would have to crawl. I began taking pictures so I could show B. The first section of the new passage, I was almost laying down since the passage

was so small. My feet are extended in front of me, as you can see. Notice the broken rock on the floor of the cave. The passage looks like a dead end, but it turns gently to the right near the end. And God, this picture is so terrifying. I mean, remember that they heard screams down there, and the wind blowing back and the rumbling. Like, that is a horrifying. thing to look down, and who knows what's on the other side. And now back to the O.P. O.P. says, I asked B how far he thought I should venture into the new cave, in light of the strange events that had occurred. For the first time, he too, toned down his enthusiasm as

he remembered the noises. He slid the pipe through the tomb with a loosened tip on the end. He said, I could use it as a weapon if I ran into an animal or... He also told me to make sure we can hear each other as I progressed into the cave. Even though we were at least thinking of the possibility of running into trouble, we never really considered the fact that if I got into trouble, be would never be able to rescue me. And in fact, no one would be able to get for me for many hours. If I were in serious trouble, as in hurt, there was no way anyone would be able to get to me in time.

but symbolic of the whole experience, we were focused on our goal and not the potential dangers we faced. So far, we had dodged the proverbial bullet. So far. I strapped on my gloves and knee pads, grabbed my camera, and began my adventure. I crawled through the passage pictured above, which was about 20 feet long. At the end, the crawl, the cave bent slightly to the right. I would have to climb up the gentle slope, but then I would be a little bit of a little slope, but then I would

able to stand by the end of the next section of the cave. The next section was about 40 feet long. In addition to having a higher ceiling, the walls were a little wider than the section I had just crawled through. Both sections were relatively straight. The floor was covered, a rock, which crunched as I crawled, and then walked across it. The walls were basically the same as much of mystery cave, except pristine. It was obvious no one had been there before me. Upon closer examination of the walls, I found two delicate types of formations. The first resembled several chunks of grated cheese tied together on one end, with the rest of the cheese just flopping down.

The second formation was just tiny strands of rock, thinner than human hair. It looked pretty cool. I found several examples of both kinds of formations. I was not even through the second section of cave, and I could barely hear B. Cave passages are not very acoustically friendly. I shouted to him that I would go for half an hour then return. He said that would be fine and to be careful. Then I proceeded to explore some more.

I could walk nearly upright at this point. I was on the third straight section of the cave when I discovered a crystal formation on the wall to my right. It was in several layers on the wall, resembling clear candle wax that was allowed to melt and drip down the wall. There were several small stalact-type looking formations formed by these crystals. The longest was about four inches in length. There would have been one much longer, judging by the size of the base, but it had broken off.

I looked to see if I could locate where it ended up, but I couldn't find it. The crystal formations are right behind the rock in the upper right corner of the photo. I could walk upright, but had to stoop on occasions, like ducking under that rock. And then, yeah, just this picture is so crazy. how he's just back into the earth into this cave that no one's ever been in before. It must feel so surreal to be in a cave that no one's ever touched foot on, no one in human history. And I wonder what O.P finds in here. And then the O.P. continues, saying,

The passages continued on for another hundred feet or so before the cave opened up a little. It was at the end of a short, straight segment of the cave. At the very end of the segment, the cave made a bend to the left and opened up into a room. Just at the point where the room began, there was a round rock that appeared to be leaning against the wall. This seemed odd, but singular formations are common in caves, so it is by no means unique. I had crawled and stepped over several large chunks of rock that fell down from the ceiling, but this one was more round than the others. Once past the rock, the room opened up to a height of about 15 feet. It was about 15 feet in width and about 3rd.

30 feet in length. At the far end of the room, there was another passage, leading straight out. As I entered the room, I had an eerie feeling. It was like the old saying that I felt like I was being watched. Once again, the excitement of the new find faded, and the memories of the mysterious side of the cave crept back into my mind. Suddenly, I felt very alone. Fortunately, for my ego, I was nearly out of time and had to get back to be before my half hour was up. I took several pictures of that room. I was going to just get a feel for how long the next passage was when something caught my attention.

On the left side of the room, on the wall, at about eye level, I discovered what appeared to be hieroglyphics. It was a single drawing that almost appeared to just be a part of the rock coloration. It looked like a very crude representation of people, standing below a symbol. I was pumped. This meant that there had to be another entrance to this cave. Even if the entrance was closed or blocked, it might mean an opportunity to open it and get B into the cave.

I took another look at the drawing to make sure I could describe it to B. Then I took some more pictures and headed back to B. When I got back to the squeeze, I could barely talk fast enough to let B know everything I'd discovered. He was just as excited to hear about our newly found treasures. As we debated what our next move would be, I began to send my gear back through the tomb to be. I told him it'd be best if we got someone else to come back with me. In case something happened, he agreed. Once I got all of my gear through, I was faced with the wonderful task of having to negotiate Floyd's tomb again.

Theoretically, a person should be able to get out of a passage he just crawled through by simply reversing what he just did. If he contorts his body a certain way to get in, he should be able to get into the same. position to get out. In practice, this may not prove to be possible or practical. Such was the case with the tomb. I determined in advance that I would attempt to go head first, back through the squeeze. I knew that I could definitely make it back by going feet first, but that would mean backing up all the way through the tomb. That would take a long time and be very exhausting. My only concerning going head first was when I got to the end of the squeeze, I would have to go through the hole we needed and made, without the benefit of being able to twist my body.

Oh well, I chose to go head first and deal with the exit when I got to it. I started into the squeeze very close to the tight spot, so at least I would have it over with soon. It turned out to be tricky getting through. I had to shift my hips to the right a little to get through, but I just kept plugging away at it. My hands were once again by my side. My head was turned to the right and I was scooting with my toes.

And once again, I was using my head as a gauge to tell when I was at a tight spot. Then, when I went past it, I seemed to get tired a little quicker on the way out. Must have been from all the work we had done to get through. I was a little over halfway through

when something bizarre happened. I was laying there, taking a brief break when I heard a sound deep within the cave. It was the faint, but distinct sound of rock sliding on rock. My blood froze in its veins. I couldn't move.

I just lay there straining to hear the sound again. Nothing. I quickly began to scoot toward the exit. I didn't mention the sound to B. But I did recall one of our earlier trips when B said he heard the same thing. The task of getting out of our hole turned out to be as painful as I thought it would be. I had to put my arms overhead and force my shoulders through the hole. I definitely left some skin behind as I slipped through.

Be helped me as I wiggled my upper body out of the passage. Then I could catch myself and ease my lower part. body out of the tomb. I was out. B and I shook hands and began to load up our gear. I was trying to listen to any sounds coming from the hole, but we were making too much noise gathering our stuff. As much as I looked forward to getting into the passage, it was a relief to get back out. That is pretty much how I feel about caves in general. I love to go in, but I feel good when I get back out again. Something strange happened with the pictures I took in the new part of the cave. the pictures I took in the passage leading up to the large room all turned out just fine.

Strangely, none of the pictures taken in the room turned out. Pictures of the round rock and more importantly, pictures of the hieroglyphics I saw. Pictures taken before and after the room turned out great. But the negatives of the photos taken in the room were clear. Nothing. I remember what the hieroglyphous looked like, so I drew a picture to give you an idea of what I saw. and then he links three pictures and each one has a description so here we go it's a crude drawing of what i saw but it's accurate the first thing i thought when i saw it was blair witch project

it kind of has the same feel to it this symbol was in the center and several figures that looked like people raising their hands were below this and yes that's a very good description by op this is very blare witch project feeling but if i saw this in the cave i would be mortified i mean I would think it's some sort of demon or something, but anyways, the next photo. This is the last picture before I entered the large room. At the end of the passage, partially hidden in the shadows, is the round rock that I saw. And the picture, I know I've said this so many times, but this cave is just so terrifying, not knowing what's beyond you is so creepy.

In just the tight space, I just can't imagine. But, yeah, this picture has such an easy. eerie feel to it. And the next picture, which goes as follows. Here is the same picture with the Round Rock outlined. You can't really tell from these pictures what you were looking at, but they are the only ones I got of the Round Rock. And yeah, O.P. is right. It's really hard to see the round rock, but you can kind of see very faintly. I mean, maybe if you turn the brightness up a little bit, you can see it better, but yeah, you can't really see a lot. April 14th, 2001. Only a A couple days elapsed before B found someone who wanted to explore the passage with us.

B told me, he talked to a few other people who couldn't make it because of scheduling conflicts. He said they really grilled them for information about the cave and the passage. He would not tell them which cave it was to ensure that we explored it to our satisfaction before we made it known to the public. Even the guy who ended up going with us did not know which cave until we were very close to it, and he was sworn to secrecy that would not reveal the location. of the cave to anyone on the planet. I won't identify him by name, so I will just refer to him as Joe. Joe, B and I, set out early in the morning to make sure we could spend all the time we wanted

in the new passage. When we got to the cave, we were able to rig up and descend rather quickly. It helps when you don't have to haul off a hardware store down into the cave. Joe was impressed by our work. Even B and I took a minute to pat ourselves on the back for all of the hard work we put in, and for the fact that we made it through. Joe is a rather thin caver, who has had a lot of experiencing caves. He said this might be the tightest squeeze he had been in, but it didn't bother him. I knew that physically he'd be able to make it since I was bigger than him and I made it. He was just excited as us to get through and get caving, maybe more.

He quickly got ready and was waiting to hear what the plan of attack was going to be. I figured I would send him through first, since he was. was ready and I would follow. B would pass our gear through and wait for us outside the passage. B would give us two hours to return. That was nice of B to go down into the cave and babysit us. It gets boring sitting there in a cave. With our plans set, we were ready to roll. It was perhaps irresponsible for us to not tell Joe about all of the unexplained events that occurred in the cave until after he had gone through. But what exactly do you tell someone? How many of the weird things did we need to reveal to him. We did not feel that we were into any danger,

or we would not go in the cave ourselves, so we did not tell him a thing prior to him entering Floyd's tomb. Of course, when we did tell him afterwards, it was too late. I couldn't believe how easy Joe slipped through the passage. He said it was tight, but it sure didn't look like it. Once he got in, we passed him his gear, then I started in. Even though I knew that I could fit through, it was still a slow trip through the tomb. You can only go so fast when you're scooted with your toes. When I reached the tight spot of the squeeze, I had Joe snap a picture of me. I thought it would make a good photo. Once I got through B, started to relay my stuff to me. Then disaster struck. I had gone all the way in and turned around to pull my gear through. I had to kneel around and

still crouched down low. I had just got my helmet, ironically, and light, and was turning around to feed the rope back to B when I smacked my head on the top of the passage. Human skull versus solid rock. Rock one. I told B what had happened, so he sent my first aid kit through. I was bleeding, but even worse, I didn't feel too good. I patched myself up, then told Joe, I didn't think I'd better continue. He looked like a little kid who was told that Christmas would be canceled.

Although I didn't like the idea of him exploring the cave without me, for selfish reasons, of course, I wanted him to at least see part of the cave for making the trip out there. I told him how far to go and how long it would take. Then I sent him on his way. As I laid there, I could hear him crawling into the darkness. His light disappeared after the first turn. I rested a minute or two, then began my journey back through the squeeze. It was disappointing to get all the way to the cave and then not be able to explore to its end.

Actually, it is killing me. After I got through Floyd's tomb, which was painful, I sat down and munched on a cliff bar while B and I chatted. I told him I'd pay for a motel room if he would stay overnight. Then we could see how I was doing the next day and make another attempt at the cave. I felt goofy for having smacked my head on the cave wall. B said he was willing to give it another try tomorrow. He was just as anxious to put some closure to this cave. As long as Joe would stay overnight, we determined to wrap things up the next day.

Once this was settled, we just sat back and enjoyed the darkness. We could hear no sounds coming from the passage. The silence reminded me of the scraping noise that I heard last time we were out there. I brought up the subject of the bee. Since I had not explored the cave completely, I could not offer any explanation of what could be making the scraping noise, or the change the wind strength, or the rumbling,

or that terrible scream that we had heard. Suddenly, we both wished we had not sent Joe into the cave alone. B went to the hole and yelled into it. Joe! No answer. Not surprising, you just can't hear each other when you're very far apart in a cave. We nervously awaited any sounds.

Good sounds, that is. Joe type sounds. The 20-minute time limit we had set past. Then 25 minutes. I really had no desire to climb back through that squeeze. My head was still throbbing and the squeeze looked tighter than ever. Still, I knew I was going to have to make sure Joe was safe. Just as I was getting prepared to go back through, I saw a light deep in the passage.

Joe, I called out. Nothing. Joe, still no answer. The light got brighter, and I could hear the noise of someone crawling across the broken rock that lined the cave. You, uh, okay, Joe? No, was his weak reply. When he got to the other side of the tomb, he said he was not feeling well. He quickly took his gear off and put them in a bag.

so we could pull it through. As I pulled the bag through, the passage he began to climb back through the tomb. We didn't even get a chance to question him about what he saw before he was coming back through. He quickly slipped through the squeeze and the hole, and we finally got a look at him. He looked terrible. His face was pale and he was out of breath. The dust that covers the floor of the squeeze left its mark on his face and clothes. He had numerous small cuts and scratches on his face and arms, probably from his rapid exit from the passage. His eyes were open wide. We only had a brief moment to look at the change that had occurred to Joe before he started to head up and out of the cave, without saying a word. While Joe and B started for the surface,

I took a minute to gather our gear. Then I stopped to listen to the passage. I heard nothing, and I felt nothing. The wind had stopped. Part of me wanted to get out of the cave as fast. as possible, but another part of me wanted to immediately climb back through the passage to find out what made this cave tick. Then was not the time, though. I still felt a little dizzy for my injury. At that time, I noticed B and Joe had made good time getting up the cave passage, and I was left alone. Chills ran through my body as I scurried to catch up with them. Once we got outside the cave, I figured we would be able to find out more from Joe. But when he got up from the final climb, he just unclipped from the rope and went straight to the truck.

In the light of day, he looked even worse than in the cave. B and I gathered up the rope and our gear and headed for the truck. Joe said he did not want to stay overnight because he felt terrible, and we believed him. So we headed home. We could get no more information from Joe. He just stared straight ahead. He was shaking like a leaf, and he said he was not cold. When we tried to question him, his answers were short.

I asked him if he saw the hieroglyphics. No. Did you hear us yelling? No. Did he see the round rock? No. Did he see the crystals? No.

He said he just went a little ways in and started to feel sick. Something was fishy about his answers. He would have had to have seen the crystals if he got far enough into the cave that he couldn't hear us yelling. But why would he not elaborate? The rest of the trip passed in eerie silence. Joe didn't say much else. We gave him a brief outline of these strange events that happened in the cave.

He didn't reply. As we were dropping him off, we asked if he wanted to go back in the cave. He shook his head and ran into his house. I tried to call him later on the day, and the next day, but only got his voicemail. April 28, 2001. In this journal entry, I discussed briefly the feelings being I had at this point. I would like to elaborate on those feelings and set the move for this part of my journal. I hope I can successfully convey our exact thoughts and feelings as we contemplated our next move.

If not, I'm afraid we will appear to the average reader as being ignorant, naive, or downright foolish. This cave represented to us the culmination of weeks of hard work, complete with an array of emotions, from fatigue to fear, anticipation to pain, from frustration to glory. To us, we were not standing on the brink of possible destruction, but rather honoring an unspoken commitment, much like a parent of a wayward child. We were not about to abandon our child out of fear of the unknown. Like it or not, this cave had become a part of us, and now we must see this adventure to its fruition. Additionally, for both explanations aside, we were being eaten alive with curiosity.

Despite the overwhelming number of unexplained occurrences we experienced, we had to go back into this cave. What was making the rumbling noise? What caused the change in wind strength? etc., etc. All the way down to Joe. What could have possibly happened to him? What did he see or experience? We had many lengthy discussions about what our next move would be.

We kept coming to the same conclusion. We had to return to the cave. We could offer no possible scenarios that would solve the many riddles held deep within the cave. The only way we could hope to complete the puzzle would be to conquer the cave. We were going back to Mystery Cave. Two weeks after our trip with Joe, and we were on our way back to the cave. To prepare for this trip, we contacted the local cave rescue group and got permission to borrow their low voltage two-way phone. The phone consists of two transceivers and a long spool of thin wire.

I would then be able to unwind the wire as I went into the passage and stay in contact with B the entire time. We also thought it would be a good idea to take a video camera into the new passage. I purchased a case that would protect my video camera from dust, as well as sharp rocks. I was more than willing to pay the cost of the case just to make sure B got to see the entire passage. My head was doing fine. I still had a light red line to mark the spot where I tried to break the rock with my head. I never went to the doctor, but it was a very painful experience. I have thought about what would have happened if I had been able to go in the passage with Joe. He was a changed man after he came out.

I have been calling his house nearly every day trying to talk to him, but he won't answer his phone. Be called his work and a mutual friend told him that Joe called in sick two weeks ago and hasn't been in since. He said Joe warned his boss he might be out for a while. I even stopped by his house twice. The first time, it looked like someone was home, but no one answered the door. The second time, his car was gone and there were no lights on. I hoped to talk to him before this trip, but it didn't work out. As we were rigging up the rope to descend into the cave, I felt something for the first time.

I did not want to go into the cave. It was not a feeling of foreboding. I was not receiving some premonitation. I just had no desire to enter the underground world of mystery cave. I didn't share this feeling with B at the time, even though I was not. I had no desire to go into that cave, I knew we had to. So I double-checked my gear and slipped over the edge of the cliff. Right from the beginning, it seemed like the cave did not want us to be there. Nothing went smoothly. Every time we tried to clip a carabiner or tie a knot or attach something

to the rope, we had to do it two or three times to get it right. Fortunately, we recognized this and made sure everything was safe and secure. As we slowly made our way down, we were continually bumping into the side of the cave or stumbling as we walked or dropping things. We finally reached a point where we stopped to gather ourselves before continuing. Our load was relatively light, but we were taking forever to get to the hole.

Finally, we made it. We checked the camera and phone to make sure they survived the trip. We tested everything and I gathered the gear I wanted to to take into the passage. Then it was time. We looked at each other, but said nothing. Then I turned to the passage. As I twisted my body to begin entering the tomb,

I desperately hoped it would be the last time I would contort my body to enter this colostrophobes nightmare. The trip through Floyd's tomb went smoothly, figuratively speaking. After I got through, we took six. several minutes to get everything passed through to me. I got suited up and tested all of the equipment. The phone worked like a charm. I videotaped the squeeze and then the first section of the new passage. Since I'd be unable to tape while I crawled, my plan was to crawl to the next section, then stop and film some more. I could video what I had just been through and then video what I was going to crawl through next. That way, I could get each section from both ends. I was starting to feel pretty good about the trip.

I felt a sense of personal satisfaction at being able to provide a way for B to see the fruits of his labor. It was awkward hugging the camera and unrolling the phone wire while trying to crawl. I knew it would be worth it, though. The small formations were too small to show up in the video. With normal outside lighting, it would be no problem. But with my headlight as the only source of light, the effort was futile. The crystal formations turned out quite nice. They were easily large enough and made for some pretty good footage.

I took advantage of the film stopped to check the phone. It was comforting to hear someone's voice deep within the passage. We chatted briefly, then I unplugged the phone, and prepared to continue. The phone resembled an oversized regular phone, more like the ones you would see in war movies. When I wanted to talk to B, I would just plug the phone into a special jack on the spool of wire. The power source was on B's end of the phone. so it was always turned on. Your reception was as clear as a normal phone. I continued forward. Even though progress was slow, it was steady. Things were going pretty good until I reached the

round rock. Once again, I got a strange feeling, just like the last time. I looked around carefully, but saw nothing to be alarmed about. I proceeded to film the entire room. I got good shots of the round rock from all angles. I got the walls. ceiling and floor to the best of my ability. I even got some pretty good tape of the figure on the wall. It was difficult to make out exactly what it was on the video, but you could definitely tell something was there. After I taped everything to my satisfaction, I moved toward the end of the room to prepare to explore new territory. At the far end of the large room was a passage that led to darkness. The entrance was about a foot lower than my head, and it looked like it continued at that

height for as far back as I could see. I ducked under the ceiling and prepared to see new sights. The walls of the new passage were darker than the rest of the caves at this point. The floor was made up of the same type of broken rocks. The ceiling had the same type of near perfect arch as in the old section of mystery cave. It almost seemed out of place in the jagged atmosphere of a cave. I could only see back about 30 feet or so where the passage appeared to make a right-hand turn. I thought this was. I thought this would be a good place to check in with B. It took a couple of beeps before he answered the phone, but once he did, his voice was still crystal clear. It sounded like he might have been snoozing. Had I been gone that long? He said he was doing fine, and that I could take as much time as I needed.

I thanked him and hung up. His patience has been wonderful during this whole project. He has spent a lot of time just waiting for me while I explore the passage. I was glad he was. He was still willing to sit and wait. I hung up the phone and started to film the new passage. Then it happened. From behind me, I heard the scraping noise. It was loud. It was close. It was coming up from the large room I just left. I wheeled around to face whatever had just made that noise. When I did, I lost my presence of mind and stood up at the same time. Crunch. My helmet crashed to the passage ceiling. My light broke and I was buried in the heavy darkness. Pain shot through my neck and down into my back. The helmet had protected my head, but my neck was nearly numb from the

impact. Fear enveloped me and my knees began to weaken. I slowly and involuntarily slumped to my knees. I gently set the camera down as I began to see stars from the pain in my upper back. The scraping noise lasted only a second, and now the only sound I could hear was my own panic. inspired breathing. Not only could I feel the fear thick upon my chest, but the darkness seemed to hold me in place. I felt like I was vulnerable from every direction. I wanted to turn and look behind me, into the side of me and in front of me. Everywhere I looked I saw black. Finally, I broke the stupor of terror long enough to reach for an alternative light source, the mini mag on my helmet. I twisted the light to turn it on. And when I did, I nearly cried. I had forgot to put fresh batteries in,

and now I could barely see more than a few feet. Still, it was better than nothing. I immediately began shining the light with all my might into the large room. I strained to get a glimpse of any movement in the room. Nothing. I was shaking violently as I sat there trying to figure out what to do. My mind was not thinking clearly. I honestly thought I was going to die right there in the case. For a fleeting moment, I wondered how B. would ever figure out what had happened to me. Then it hit me like a boulder. The phone. My mind must have been clearing up at that point because I also thought about my glow sticks. Without taking my eyes off the large room, I felt around on my pack for the glow sticks. Since I was carrying the phone and video camera,

I removed as much as possible for my pack, and one of the things I left with B was my backup headlamp. Thus, I was left with only the glow sticks. I found one and ripped it out of the package. I could tell something was wrong by how it sounded. It has been inadvertently broken and was now useless. I chucked it on the ground and searched my pack for another one. I took my eyes off the large room only to check the passage behind me occasionally. I found another glow stick.

Broke it to light it up. The soft green glow created eerie colors on the walls of the cave. The stick provides barely enough light to see the immediate area and provided no hint of what lie ahead. I felt the pack for one more light, again without taking my eyes off the room. I felt a third glow stick and ripped it out of the package. After breaking it, to make sure it worked, I hesitated,

then threw the glow stick into the large room. The throw was a perfect one, and the sticks sailed through the length of the room. In the brief moment that the light traveled to the room, I saw nothing but cave walls. The absence of anything unusual did nothing to eat. ease my state of panic. At the far end of the room, I got a brief glimpse of the round rock as the light bounced on it. Then the light went behind the rock and seemed to disappear.

I was still shaking, but at least I didn't see anything. Still, there was the noise. I used the glow stick to light the phone reel, and with fumbling fingers, I managed to plug my phone into the jack. I put the phone to my ear and heard nothing. The usual beeps to indicate a connection with the other phone were not there. Terrified, I pulled the phone from the jack and reinserted it. Again, silence. The line was dead. What could have happened? I just talked to B. I found myself nearly sobbing with fear. I knew the only way out of here was back the way I came. But something was there. A third attempt at making contact with B met with the same results. I tried to think of another plan, but I could only focus on the memories of the grinding sound

that I had heard. In my weakened state, I slumped against the side of passage, breathing like I had just finished a race, never breaking eye contact with the shadows of the large room. As my shoulder touched the wall, I had a powerful jolt of pain remind me of my collision with the roof of the cave. Despair, agony, terror. I can't say exactly how long I sat there, but my feet were tingling and my knees were sore. The pain in my back crept lower. Although my neck felt no different. I resolved to make an attempt to exit this evil passage. I knew if I waited too long, I would lose what little light I had. I attempted to stand, but did not have the strength. I crawled slowly to the near end of the large room, dragging my pack

beside me. Using the walls of the cave, I was able to slowly stand, though not straight due to my sore back. Still breathing rapidly, I slowly advanced with the room. I wound up the phone wire as I went. my eyes were staring straight ahead, straining for any size of movement. With every step my light would cast ever-changing shadows on the wall, keeping me busy trying to look at everyone. My eyes burned as I realized I had not blinked for many minutes. How many? How long had this been going on?

The only sounds I could hear were the crunch of my feet on the broken rock, in the wheezing of my breath. As I wound the cord, I could hear the squeak of the wheel, with each turn bringing me closer to the tomb, closer to be, closer to safety. The short trip through the room took an eternity. As I passed the crude drawing, it seemed to glow, as of offering some sort of warning. I didn't know what the drawing represented, but everything about this cave seemed to instill fear.

Toward the far end of the room, I could see the round rock dimly at the far reaches of my light. Something seemed different about it, but I couldn't tell what. When I got within a few feet, I could finally tell what had changed. changed. It had moved. That was the sound I heard. Again, terror gripped my body as I realized how close I was to something. I had no choice but to continue. Still, it was not easy. I inch toward the rock, holding the glow stick ahead of me in my shaking hand, using it to pierce the darkness. I stopped just this side of the rock and wound up the slack in my phone wire. Then I realized why I had lost contact with B. The rock was now sitting on the wire. I gave it a tug and the thin wire

snapped. My only hope of contact with the outside world ceased to exist when that wire broke. I had never felt so alone and helpless, buried deep within the earth. I had voluntarily descended into my own grave with a casket of solid rock. With the phone now useless, I set it down in the passage. My gaze fixed on the round rock. I proceeded forward. My breathing was rapid, with my throat dry and aching in my mouth dusty. With every crunch of the rock below my feet, my heart seemed to stop. No movement could be seen in the green glow of my stick.

I got to the rock and peered over the top. Seeing nothing, I took several rapid steps past it. When I reached the other side, I recoiled in horror at what I saw. In the side of the passage near the floor was a hole, with another passage revealed. It had been covered by the rock, but now it was exposed. The rock could not have moved by itself. I backed away from the hole and collided with the opposite wall. I had not been paying attention to the pain of my back.

But now it came back to me in all its fury. I stared down the newly discovered passage. It went down at a 45-degree angle and continued straight for as far as I could see. Several feet down I could see the glow stick that I had thrown. It illuminated the passage enough that, I could tell the walls were fairly smooth. The floor seemed to be the same way, unlike the rest of the cave. The passage was about three feet in diameter as far as I could see. It would have been as easy a passage to explore, if I had the least desire to do so. Right now, I wanted out of the cave and into daylight.

I slowly backed away from the hole toward B. I never took my eyes off the abyss. I nearly tripped over the phone wire as I turned to leave the Stevel's layer. I noticed, my mini-mag was practically dead, leaving me only with the glowstick. I wanted to sprint to Floyd's tomb. Just hearing another human being would help alleviate some of the fear I was experiencing. As I turned away from the large rock in the hole, I felt an overwhelming sense of panic filled my soul. It felt like a legion of demons was about to attack me from behind. I felt like my salvation lie ahead of me in the darkness, and Lucifer was behind me, trying to keep me from safety. I found myself moving much faster than I should have been in that cave.

My only thought was to get out as quickly as possible. I passed the crystal formation, barely even noticing this beautiful creation of nature in the green glow of my light. Every time I ducked to avoid a rock, I felt my back scream its reminder of my injury. When I got to the point in my passage where I had to crawl, I flung myself down on all fours, barely slowing down as I dropped. When my hands came in contact with the cave floor, I felt an end up. an electric shock shoot all the way down my back and simultaneously down my arms.

For the first time since this nightmare had begun, I let out a scream. I crumpled down and lay there on the rock, with new levels of pain manifesting every time I inhaled, whimpering from fear and pain, I tried to listen to any other noise in the cave. I could feel these silence pounding in my head. I knew from previous trips that B was still out of earshot, but I was close. Forcing myself to move, I winced as I pulled my body onto all fours and started to progress along the cave. I still held the glow stick in my hand, but I had ceased checking behind me. Now my focus was ahead of me.

I reached the point where I could yell to be, but I didn't make a sound. I didn't want to stop long enough to talk. Finally, I reached the last stretch of cave before the squeeze. As I was crawling toward the beginning of the tomb, I called to be. He answered back. I screamed to him, get everything ready to go. He asked if I was okay. Since he hadn't heard from me on the phone, he had gotten worried.

I told him no, and to get everything ready to go. When I reached the rope, I flipped off my helmet and shoved it into my pack. For the first time I realized, I had forgotten my video camera. It was a fleeting thought. I cared no more about that camera than a passenger of the Titanic cared about a hat or a coat. I tied the pack to the rope and told him to pull it through. Then I told him to start heading toward the surface as soon as he pulled the rope through. He asked why, and I screamed that there was something in the cave with us.

My back ached with every move I made. I knew it didn't matter, though. I was going to get through the tomb as fast as I could. Injuries notwithstanding. Just as I started into the squeeze, I felt the wind in the passage increase, and with it, the most nauseating stench I have ever experienced. It smelled like damp, rotting, rancid, putrid. death. I almost started to dry heave. I pulled my shirt up over my nose to shield me from the

overpowering smell. At this point, bee smelled at two. He yelled, what is that? Then he yelled at me to hurry up and get through. I told him I was coming. Then I took a deep breath through my shirt and started back through. Bees yelling had intensified my fear and panic, as if I needed any help. I knew he could sense the urgency in getting out of this place. Still, as I worked my way to through, I yelled at him to start up, that I would catch up with him when I got through. He said he would. He placed my glow stick inside the passage, then began to climb out. This time through the squeeze, I had no regard for the tightness of the passage.

I was scraping my face, ears, arms, and shoulders. Every inch of the squeeze meant numerous scratches on my body, but I barely noticed them. My back was nearly paralyzing me with pain. Once again, I felt the rising need to vomit because of the odor being delivered to my nostrils by the breeze. Halfway through Floyd's tomb, I took a break to catch my breath. I was approaching exhaustion, and my respiration right was through the roof. The top of the passage seemed to rest my cheek, and the floor felt like broken glass on my opposite cheek. As I paused briefly to recuperate, I heard the scraping noise coming from deep within the cave.

It continued for several seconds. then silence. I let out a cry which startled me. I was no longer consciously reacting to the noise. The cry was a subconscious response to the fear which flowed through my entire body. In a panic, I began to scoot through the passage. As I reached the largest part of the tomb, I quickly slid my arms under my body to get into position to exit through our hole.

I grabbed the rope and pulled with all my might. When my shoulders reached the hole, they lodged and I was stuck. I dug my feet into the rocks and wiggled my way back in the hole. the passage. Then I turned my body slightly and tried again. This time I was successful in pulling my upper body through. Normally I would carefully work my way out, since there's a three-foot drop on the outside of the hole. This time I kicked with my legs and pulled it with my arms and plop. I dropped out of the tomb, right onto my shoulder. I tried to roll to soften the impact, but was unable to do anything more than take the blow. Strangely, the pain was focused on my shoulder, apparently not

affecting my already sore back. I rolled over onto all fours, then slowly rose to my feet. The smell was much less intense outside of the passage. I grabbed the glow stick and used it to find my helmet. I began to head for the webbing to climb up while strapping on my helmet. When I got to the webbing, I reached up to grab hold and recoiled in horror. In the glow of the glow stick, I could see for the first time the injuries to my arms. My forearms were covered with deep cuts and scrapes. Much of my arm was covered in blood, the wounds were not deep enough to bleed freely, but rather oozed the blood. In that brief moment that I stopped, I noticed that there was silence in the cave. No sounds coming from the passage, and nothing from up ahead. Once again, the feeling of being alone returned,

motivating me to proceed. Climbing up the little drop-off proved to be difficult in my condition, having the glow stick as the only light source added to the challenge. Once on top, I scrambled to catch up with B. I was impressed with the speed of his ascent. Although I did not mention any more of my physical condition during my exit, I was hurting. With every step I took pain shot through my lower back in my neck. My arms were shredded and my shoulder had a nice gash in it.

I honestly believed that if not for the terror I felt at the time, I would not have the energy and the motivation to climb out. I was running on pure adrenaline. Unfortunately, the adrenaline surge was about to end. I did not see or hear B until I reached the small area at the bottom of the drop. He was on rope and climbing out as fast as he could. I could hear him moving quickly and breathing heavily. I called out to him and his startled reaction told me he was nearly as tense as I was.

He told me to get on rope and start climbing. We both knew that would be dangerous and not something we would ever normally do. But this was different. I stood there looking up at where the rope disappeared into the darkness above me. It danced around as B made his way to safety. He was out of sight, but I knew he was close. I knew the rope was my lifeline to the outside, to light, safety. Behind me was darkness, fear, the unknown.

I had the fleeting thoughts of a movie scene where the actor had outwitted the monster and had reached the front door of the haunted house. Just as he reached for the knob, he hears a sound behind him and turns. only to see. I slid the glow stick into the cord, on my helmet, and reached for my harness. Then I thought I would let B get a little bit higher while I pulled the rope up that was stretched down into the cave. That would make it easier to get out once we got to the top of the drop. I chose not to wind the rope around my arm since it was sore and bleeding, so I just pulled it into a pile on the floor. From above I heard B warn me, rock, and I ducked under the ledge as several

small rocks landed on the floor near my feet. I quickly went back to putting the rope in. I had about half of it in, about 50 feet. When the rope had a snag, ugh, it was solid. There was no way I was going to crawl back in to release it, so I decided to just forget the rope and get my harness on and get it out of the cave. I quickly threw the harness around me and started to buckle it. Before I could secure it, I heard a strange noise at my feet. My pulse began to quicken. I looked down at the rope only to discover to my horror that the rope was disappearing down into the darkness. Something was pulling the rope back into the cave. I let go of the harness and began clawing my way up the rope.

The unbuckled harness fell to the floor. Fortunately, I held on to an ascender. At the moment, I could not think straight and began climbing out of the cave without being attached to the rope. I had climbed out many times without using an ascending device, but I was always attached to the rope, just in case. I was climbing as fast as my battered body could haul me up. I was in a near panic state again, and consequently was scraping, bumping, and gouging my arms and legs.

As I climbed, I screamed to be that something was pulling the rope. He yelled back to hurry up. Luck was with me and that I didn't slip and fall back down into the hole. If I had, I would have bounced several times against the sides of the cave before smashing onto the floor. The injuries would be fatal. Without the necessity of having to stop to slide the ascender up the rope, I made excellent time getting up. I could see rays of light above me, coming from the entrance to the cave. That told me exactly where I was in the cave.

I caught up to be on the ledge below where our re-bellay point was fixed. I told him to keep going. It would only take him a few minutes. But every second would be torture because I had to wait for him to get up. I watched the rope that we had just climbed up. I expected to see some creature from deep within our earth climb up and make me its lunch. The rope moved around a bit, in rhythm with bees climbing. but did not appear to have any tension on it. As I stood there waiting for B, I kept watching

the rope for signs of anything bizarre. I didn't know if my heart could take any more stress. I could not have been more wired. I tried to relax a bit to make sure I was thinking rationally, but my poor brain had reached sensory overload. As B reached the top of the last climb, I got ready to clip on my sender and get my sorry butt out of there. It was then that I noticed that the rope began to tighten from below. I could feel the tension on the rope, but it was a steady tension, not like someone was climbing up. Either way, I wanted out of there as fast as possible. I clipped on and scrambled up the rope. I hadn't noticed, but B had kept on moving toward the entrance. I got up the last few feet in a hurry. I just unclipped and kept on moving, leaving the rope behind.

By the time I got to the entrance of the cave and daylight, B was almost up to where the rope was anchored. I wanted to get up so bad I almost started to free climb without clipping onto the rope. I could see B was almost up, so I clipped on and started up. I almost didn't make it up. I had just started up when I nearly collapsed from exhaustion. I managed to recover enough to pull myself up the last few feet. As I climbed, I could hear the tension on the rope manifest itself by the stretching noise in the rope. I prayed the rope would not break with me attached to it.

The second that I reached the top, I unclipped the ascender. I could see B kneeling down by the tree, so I limped over to him and collapsed. For the first time, since I went through, Floyd's tomb, we could see each other. We just stared. I knew I looked pretty bad, but didn't know that B was in such bad shape. He had cuts and scrapes on every exposed surface of his body. His face was pale, almost white. His mouth and his eyes were wide open. He was breathing heavily, almost gasping. The shock we shared at the other person's appearance was broken when we heard the rope around the tree stretch, and the knot B had tied Titan. I was frozen in place.

Overwhelmed with fright. B seemed to be transfixed on the knot. Then in one motion, he produced a pocket knife and began to work on the rope. It is amazing how a person's state of mind can alter the perception of time. I'm sure it only took four or five seconds to sever the rope from the tree, but it seemed like an hour. When the rope was cut, the knot fell to the ground, while the end of the rope zipped across the rocks and over the edge of the cliff. The speed of it causing a humming noise as it went. As soon as the rope was cut, B let out a cry. He dropped the knife and fell backward. Watching the rope fly over the edge brought the feelings in the passage back to me. I got up and headed toward the truck. I noticed B. was still laying there, wide-eyed,

staring at the point the rope disappeared. I called to him, which seemed to break his trance. He got up and hurried away from the tree. The cave. The nightmare. Neither of us said a word all the way home. It is now four days after our trip to the cave. It has taken me four days and dozens of attempts to get this entire experience written into my journal. Every time I started to write, I recalled the terrible feelings I had and couldn't write anymore.

I felt compelled to continue, so as to document the unbelievable events while all of the details were fresh in my mind, I can still feel the pain, still smell the stench, still experience, the terror. Even typing from my journal has taken hours. I would like to write more, but it will have to wait. Even now, with several days between me and the event, I can't relax. I can barely concentrate. That's all for now. June 19, 2001.

It has been three weeks since our last visit to the cave. I want to update everyone as to my condition, my plans for the cave, and the events of the past few weeks. I apologize for not returning your phone calls. I have been getting all of your messages. I just haven't felt up to calling back. Steve and Mark, thanks for your words of encouragement on my answering machine.

I know you two are sincerely concerned for me. You are awesome friends. Mark, I know you stopped by the house a few times, but I'm sorry I never answered the door. They really help me just knowing you drop by. Sis, I can hear the worry in your voice. I'm okay. Don't worry about me. Just take care of those nieces and nephews of mine.

I figure if I can get this site updated, I can let everyone know at once about how I am doing. A lot has happened in the last three weeks, so I'll do my best to cover every day. I guess I should start where the last entry left off. It took several days to get the last journal entry written down. I was so shook up from my experience that I could do little else but sit around and ponder what had happened. Right now, I am on long-term medical leave from work. I tried to go to work several days after the event, but my boss sent me home. I couldn't concentrate and I look terrible. I've even been to the doctor, but I couldn't tell him about the experience. so I just told him I was under a lot of stress.

He recommended rest and gave me a prescription to help me relax. Mmm, good drugs. When we left the cave, I was nearly in a state of shock. I could not think clearly and was having a difficult time trying to understand what had happened. I didn't eat much, nor did I get any sleep. I was glad I had the presence of mine to write down my experience while I was still fresh in my mind. As I reread what I had wrote, I feel like I accurately portrayed what happened in the cave that day. I wouldn't change anything I wrote, even though it took three days to write it.

When I finished writing in my journal, I felt much better. I guess it was kind of therapeutic. Unfortunately, it didn't last. In fact, after then, things got really bad. B and I parted company after the trip, and I didn't see him again until yesterday. I didn't try to reach him, and he didn't try to get a hold of me, nor did either of us try to contact Joe. B. just dropped me off after the trip, and I spent the next several days by myself in the house. I tried to eat, but had no appetite.

I was restless, but I couldn't find anything to do to take my mind off the experience. That's when I determined that I should write it down. As I mentioned, that helped me think a little clearer, and I seemed to be a little calmer, but it didn't last. I went to work the next day, but was sent home. The day after that, I had an overwhelming feeling of anxiety sink into my soul. I was depressed and confused and had no one I wanted to turn in for comfort. I was getting all kinds of phone calls from people, but I just let the answering machine take the calls. I even changed the message on the machine to let everyone know I was all right. I continued in this miserable state, eating and sleeping whenever I could manage, until a week

after the trip. Then things started to get strange. At first, I was hearing sounds in the house that had no explanation. Footsteps, shuffling noises, creaking doors, you know, the typical horror movie fair. Only the sounds were not distinct. It was as though I wasn't sure I heard what I thought I heard. I would be eating or getting out of the shower and stop, thinking I heard something. But the sound would not repeat itself.

In fact, if it weren't for the fact that it happened frequently, I couldn't be sure there were noises in the first place. Either way, I was scared. It was as though I had been caught in a spider web for the last week. Feelings of anxiety, foreboding. tension filled my life. Then came the hallucinations. I began seeing things in a manner similar to these sounds I was hearing.

Just a glimpse of something in the corner of my eye. When I would turn to look, nothing. I had been sleeping with the lights on in my room. But now I kept all the lights in the house on from dusk to after dawn. When I started to see things on a regular basis, I purchased a gun. Got it from an ad in the paper, so I didn't have to wait for a permit. I went to the doctor, but didn't mention the details of my life. Just told him I couldn't relax.

And I walked out of there with a prescription. Fortunately, my wounds and injuries were pretty much healed by this time. My back still hurt a little, but the prescription took care of that too. When I was on the medication, I felt great, but I didn't want to walk around high for the rest of my life, so I would only take it at the end of a tough day. Unfortunately, the severity of the sidings increased, giving rise to a need for the medication. The flashes in the corner of my eye continued, but then I began to see shapes and shadows.

They would be outside my windows, usually at night. I still couldn't make out anything solid, so it was hard to pin down what I was seeing. Soon I began to close all of my drapes and blind, so I could remove the possibilities of seeing something. Doing so did help in that respect, but... but my life was still a mess. My daily routine was mechanical and empty. I would sleep in as long as I could, usually out of exhaustion. Then I would get cleaned up and try to eat something.

I lost a lot of weight, so I tried to get as much possible down me. Then I would exercise a little and nap a lot. I'd only been out of the house a few times in the last two weeks. The store, the doctor, the gun purchase. I didn't watch much TV because I couldn't concentrate. I spent a lot of the time on the internet. I was doing research on caves and cave myths. The only story I could find was the caver folklore about the Hodag.

The Hodag is supposedly a creature that roams caves. Two weeks after we went in the cave, and a week after I began hearing things, I began to have nightmares, extremely. lucid, nightmares. No specifics theme or recurring events, just plain terrifying. Sometimes I was in my house and someone was trying to get me, only I couldn't run because I had no legs. Other times I was in a vat and someone was pouring a syrup like liquid on me, filling the vat, I would wake up in a panic. I would stay awake until exhaustion forced me to enter dreamland once again. A brutal routine.

It continued for several days, until it reached a climax on the sixth day. Yesterday. My dreams seemed so real I had a hard time telling if I was awake or not. I was beat, really drained of energy and spirit. I was going from the living room to my bedroom in the early evening when I looked down the hall and saw a dark figure toward the end. I thought I was a thief and began to back up slowly. It didn't move. As I was backing up, the lights flickered off and on.

Every muscle was tense. I stopped to stare at the figure. Just then the phone rang. It startled me so bad I stumbled over the chair. When I got up, I wheeled around to look down the hall and nothing was there. I grabbed my keys and left the house. I felt compelled to get in the car and drive. My pulse pounded in my temples as I got in and started the car.

I wanted to drive to overlook point to see the city lines. I don't know why I needed to go there, but I knew I had to go. The closer I got, the more urgent the feeling. When I arrived at the point, I saw something that at first startled me, but then caused me to be more relaxed than I had been in a long time. Joe was there. He was out of his car, standing, looking at the lights. We looked at each other.

I could see from the tired look on his face he had been going through the same miserable trial that I had been experiencing. He could tell from the look on my face that we had shared the same terrible experience. Our conversation was unbelievably brief. You been back? He began. Even though he knew the answer. Yes.

We need to return. Tomorrow good? I asked. Yeah. Noon. He got in his car and I got into mine. I hadn't even wanted to take. talked to him about his experience. Obviously, he didn't want to know mine. I drove over to

B's house. When he answered the door, I thought that B actually looked like he was doing fine, somewhat happy. One look at me, and his disposition changed. Our conversation was also succinct. I ran into Joe, and we're going back in tomorrow at noon. Be looked dead serious. He just nodded his head. I asked him if I could spend the night. night at his house. He eagerly let me in. I didn't notice until later, but every light in his house was turned on. He led me to his spare room. Help yourself. Thanks. I washed up in the bathroom, took some medication, and got the first decent sleep in a long time. I woke early this morning and came home to get ready for the trip. I thought I would send out this update so no one will

wonder what's going on with me. I suspect that by the time most of you read this, I will be back home and will have a great story to tell. I promise that if you haven't heard from me by now, you will very shortly. It is now 10 a.m. on Saturday the 19th. We will be leaving for the cave in two hours. Preparing for this trip will be like no other trip I've been on. For the first time in my life, I will carry a gun into a cave. I will also carry a gun. I will also carry a knife, an extensive first aid kit, plenty of food and water, and a camera. I will take several sources of light and a pad of paper and pencil. I will have to take all of my climbing rope, since Beeloss is in the cave. I will carry a good length of rope with me on the other side

of Floyd's tomb. This is the first time in three weeks that I have heard any reference to Floyd's tomb. It sent shivers up my spine just typing it. There are so many things I have. hope to accomplish this day. So many answers I hope to find in a tiny passage hidden from view. Reflecting on the events leading up to today leaves me feeling dizzy. Was this all a bad dream? Unfortunately, I am wide awake. And still, in a few short hours, I might face my nightmare. The thought of having another person with me in the passage does nothing to alleviate the fear I feel. I almost chuckle as I ponder a childish notion that we will have to consider. Who will enter the tomb first?

Who will lead the way into the dark unknown? Who will decide when to turn back? Foremost among the questions in my mind is, What about the video camera that I left behind? It is supposed to be able to record in complete darkness. I left the thing running. So what might we find on the tape? Darker questions follow.

What if the camera is gone? What if it is destroyed? Although it is difficult to put an exact name on my motivation, I think closure fits quite nicely. I need to find out a few things about this cave. The main thing, believe it or not, is to find the end of the cave. With all of the bizarre things I've witnessed these past few weeks, it would seem a bit trite to want.

as a primary goal, to get to the end. But that is what I want, to be sure, I will be seeking other bits of knowledge along the way. If, however, I find the end to this main passage, and an end to the passage hidden by the rock, I will be content to never return to the passage or the cave again. Never. It would seem to me that crawling headfirst through a tight passage into the darkness is an unnatural thing. just like crawling up the side of a cliff for recreation, or jumping out of a perfectly good airplane and floating to the ground.

We do these things to satisfy our hunger for adventure, this subconscious desire to conquer our own little Everest. As B is fond of saying, caving is the last opportunity for exploration for the person with modest means. True. Just a short drive from just about, anywhere in the country is a cave waiting to be explored. Even a cave well-known among the general public can be approached by someone for the first time as an adventure, something new, something to

overcome because it's there. Many of you don't agree with my decisions to pursue this cave. I know this from the messages I've received. I'm afraid I don't have a choice. If I am ever to experience restful slumber, I must return. If I am ever to walk the halls of my own home in peace, I must return. If I am ever to exit the overworld and enter the subterranean world of a cave, I must now return. I no longer feel that I have a choice. I must return. For my family and friends who are reading this, I say, be at peace. I will conquer this cave.

Then I will return and update this website immediately. I will include any photos we take in the cave today. And if you stop by the house, I will show you the video I will have. I expect to be home later tonight. Or tomorrow, at the latest. See all of you soon, with a lot of answers. Love, Ted.

The Appalachian Hordeaux. I grew up in southern Appalachia. In western North Carolina, 30 minutes outside of the town in Asheville, the hills and hollers of the Appalachian Mountains are some of the oldest mountains in the world, with some of the rock formations dating back over a billion years. That quite literally means they were here before there were terrestrial animals. As with most things that have been on the earth for a long time, there were inexplicable anomalies, both benevolent and malevolent.

For example, the Brown Mountain Lights. in my life have I felt threatened or uneasy when witnessing them from wise man's view. They're neither good nor evil. They just are. On the benevolent side, sometimes when you walk through an abandoned old church, up near mom and dad's property line, you can feel good, warm, and happy energy. It's like the first warm day of summer when the sunshine is not too hot, but it's not too cold. Well, this story is not about one such anomaly. It's about something that was definitely malevolent. About a decade ago, I was in night school, up at AB Tech, going to school for automotive mechanics.

I would go into class about 2 p.m. after I got off my part-time job, and I would end up getting home about 10.30 p.m., depending on traffic. Every night, I drove the same road in my old 1973 W-200 Dodge pickup. Some nights, it would get rather boring, and I would take a different route, jump off the I-40 and drive the back roads. On this particular evening, I decided to just stay on I-40 because I just want to go home and go to bed. It was Thursday and there was no class on Friday and I wanted to get in bed early, so I'd go out into the woods and go hiking early tomorrow morning and watch the sun come up. As I jumped off I-40 onto the exit where my parents lived, the night seemed to get darker and none of the animals that I could hear through my rolled-down windows made any more noise.

The cab of my truck became smaller and smaller, and my breathing quickened. I've never faced any kind of anxiety in my life, but at that moment, something felt off. There was no way I could put my finger on what it was. I came to a stop on the exit ramp, turned to go down the road, and I happened to notice that the gas station off the exit where mom and dad lived, had no lights on. They were a 24-hour truck stop, and I always had lights on, but I didn't think about it again after noticing. I just chalked it up to the power being out, but I could not shake the feeling that

something was definitely a skew. I slowly shifted through all my old truck's gears, not wanting to make any more noise than an old pickup already did. I leaned over my steering wheel to look up at the moon through the windshield and there were barely any stars visible, which was way out of the ordinary. If you've ever been to Appalachia, primarily the sparsely populated areas where I'm from, you can see the Milky Way on clear nights. An absence of stars back home is only due to clouds cover, whatever in the hell went on this particular night. As I rounded a particularly sharp left-hand curve and chugged through a straight stretch before the next right-hander, I looked at the ancient decaying barn. I always gazed at when riding that stretch of road and thought about how long that thing had been there

and how many advancements in civilization had had seen. For the split second, that my gaze wandered, a very large, sickly-looking dog ran out in front of my truck, no more than 10 feet in front of me. Old Betsy was a good truck, but she didn't stop well. Thump! I heard the fence posts I had left in my truck bounced up out of my bed and then back into it as I slid to a stop. My first thought was, oh God, now I have to go tell these neighbors that I ran over their dog. That shit doesn't go real far with people around here.

You can really kind of set them off depending on the dog and the person. As I sat there breathing in the smell of burning rubber, something else found its way into my nose. The stench of rotting flesh. It's not a smell you ever forget once you smelt the first time. I didn't pay much attention to it at the time. time. I just chalked it up to some rotting roadkill nearby. Finally, I thought to myself, let me go check and see who this dog belongs to. I pushed my clutch in, shifted to reverse, and as I looked at my rearview mirror, illuminated by the haunting glow of my reverse lamps,

was the same dog, only it wasn't on four legs anymore. It had stood up like a man, a man well over ten feet tall. Only then did it dawn on me at the front of my truck was every bit of five feet tall, and this dog was every bit of five feet tall at the shoulder on all fours. As it turned its head to look in the direction of my truck, I caught only a glimpse of this creature. It was not a dog. It was not a man. It was somewhere in between,

and at the same time entirely separate altogether. Its skin hung loose off of it. It's emmanciated and thin frame like a raccoon. Bits of matted fur and dirt and mud clung to its legs like a disease. The right arm seemed a little longer than the left. left, and they both hung abnormally low. In relation to either animal, this creature seemed to be. As it regented its senses, it turned and looked into the mirror like it knew exactly where

I was sitting. The face was that of a man's, but the very edges of its face seemed to not be totally defined. It seemed to move and change like something you would see at a cellular level in a scientific documentary. There were no eyes but only sockets, where eyes should have been. No hair and the skin that was dripping off its face was cold. lifeless gray color. The nose was short and shoved into its face like a bulldog, but the teeth. The teeth still haunt me. It was definitely carnivorous and true deform of the rest of its

a natural look. Many of the teeth didn't seem to be arranged in a natural way in its mouth. They seemed to fill and spill forth from the indefinable face, almost like they knew the horror they occupied and they were searching for a way out. It stared through my life, into my eyes and passed my soul. It seemed like an eternity, but it could not been more than five seconds than I sat there, paralyzed. A light came on at a house next to the road, causing the creature to snap its gaze in that direction and tear off into the woods on its back two legs like a man. I jammed my old truck in first gear and roasted tires all the way through first, snatched onto second gear, and drove as fast as I could home. When I got to the house, both my parents were asleep. I went downstairs into my bedroom

and loaded every firearm I possessed and locked all the doors. I couldn't wake them up. Who the fuck would believe that at 10.30 on a Thursday night? The basement was eerily quiet that night. Even their dogs that got up to race hell at outside animals at all hours of the night were dead silent. The whole post and beam house didn't even creek or pop that night, as was usual. At around 3 a.m. I started to finally get drowsy,

and as I went to lay my head down to get some sleep, so I could still attempt to go hiking the next morning, I smelled the stench of death again. It was faint at first, but it was definitely there. I thought to myself, here's going crazy. None of that shit was real. But as I dwelt on it, I became more and more noticeable until it filled the entire basement.

My dad has a home office in the basement with two large glass doors that face Pesgah National Forest, an impendable 500,000-acre woods. I finally worked up the courage to walk out of my bedroom and into the basement living room, with my little tactical 12-gauge, loaded, tack-light on. I covered the flashlight with my hand so as not to make my presence known until need be, and as I turned right out of the living room into my father's office, I shined the light through the glass doors, at the edge of the woods, there stood the creature.

It was motionless, it stared right into the light, unafraid, with those soulless sockets devoid of eyes. I quickly covered my tactical light, ran into the living room, flipped on the outdoor floodlights into my surprise. It was no longer standing at the edge of the woods. But between the house and the edge of the woods, still motionless, I swung the door open and fired every round I had in its direction. I must have scored a couple of hits because it screeched an unearthly scream, like that of a woman being slaughtered as it took off into the woods. The dogs went crazy. Mom and dad woke up asking me what the hell was going on.

I told them that a bear had gotten to the trash and I was scaring it away. They didn't believe me, but I knew they wouldn't believe the truth either. I didn't sleep that night or any time until the following Sunday. Everything seemed to return to normal. I didn't think about that creature again until I met my wife about six years later. Her mother's house sits at the mouth of the hauler, no more than four or five miles up the road for my mother and fathers. Up on the side of the holler, there are kennels for her brother's hunting dogs, no longer in use, and haven't been in years.

But the fence is still there and the concrete pad is still there. It's a thing of great use when he needs to quarantine an animal. Her great Pyrenees had gotten to a tussle with a raccoon, which of course he destroyed, but his rabies vacillination had lapsed, so we had to keep him quarantined for all the time. It didn't bother him. He kind of liked solitude.

This particular night that we were coming home from a movie date in the neighboring town was the last night of quarantine for him. So he walked up the last trail using our phone flashlights to get to the kennel, and there he sat, patiently waiting, tail wagging happy to see us. We put him on a leash and started walking back to the house with him. As we were walking back through the darkness, I started to feel the same feeling I had felt that night I hit the creature in my truck. I didn't say anything so as not to alarm my wife.

And then the smell came wafting in the breeze. She jokingly asked me, my God, what did you eat? You stink. I half-ass laughed, not being able to fully appreciate the joke. for the horrors that raged within my mind. She immediately caught on and asked me what was wrong, to which I could only reply. I'll tell you later. She grew up in the woods and around hunting and things of that nature

her whole life, so she knew what I meant. She knew we were being washed to her by something. When we could see the lights of the house from the trail to the kennel, we heard it. There came barking from the kennel that sounded just like the great Pyrenees we had on a leash next to us. It was a perfect imitation. The Pyrenees became a guardian dog immediately, sensed that something was wrong, and so he

turned to face the danger, belting out deep barks and growls in that direction. I don't know if you've ever had to drag a 150-pound dog, but it sucks. It is no easy task. I'm six feet tall and 240 pounds, and it was all I could do to get him back to the house. The barking never ceased the entire time we were running towards the house. In fact, it seemed to grow closer and closer until it seemed it was coming from inside my own head. Her mother heard the commotion and flipped the floodlights on as we made it into the fence of the yard, and I caught a glimpse of something coming to a dead stop at the end of where the light reached,

wheeling around and tearing balf back into the darkness. My wife looks at me and goes, You want to tell me what the fuck that was? To which I replied, yes. Let's go inside. I told her the story, and she listened intently, hanging on every word. Her family came from a long line of granny witches and other supernatural healers of the Appalachian. So her older sister came over the next morning with some herbs and chance to bless the property and to ward off evil

I suggested we go up to the dog kennels and do them as well When we got to the kennels they're completely destroyed the very concrete foundation was cracked and the chain link fence was torn off its post The dog houses were destroyed and the place reeked of the stench that followed the creature My wife's older sister just went about her business like normal Bless the place burnt some herbs and let us back on of the property. When we got in the house, she wheeled up out of us suddenly and instructed us very firmly to never go into the woods after dark, not until this thing left me alone. To make a long story short, my wife joined the military and she ended up getting stationed in Delaware. Well, as someone

who's lived around fairly large mountains in endless wilderness this entire life, Delaware is pretty terrible. At least that was my thought when we first moved into the middle of a 50,000 plus population city. Fortunately, though, it didn't take us long to find a house in a sleepy, community. Further south. We purchased the house and moved in with haste. We were both very grateful and glad to be out of the city and into a rural setting again. The land in Delaware seems lifeless in comparison to Appalachia. The sparsely populated woods don't possess any energy that goes on one way or another. The ground doesn't seem to be alive like it is in Appalachia. Having not thought about the creature in a long time, I resumed my staying outside after dark and playing with her

dogs in a rather large yard that borders a small patch of woods. Well, last night I went outside to play with the dogs, and as dark sat in it, I built a decent-sized fire in my fire pit and consumed some good old-fashioned Appalachian Mountain cough syrup from a mason jar. And just as the fire was dying down, my American bulldog tore off towards the woods. He is a habit of running off to go on a venture, so my immediate instinct was to chase him down in the yard and tackle him so we could not get away. As I tackled his 110-pound ass to the ground and threw him in the firemen's carry over my shoulders, I heard him begin to bark. Only the bark was not coming from him.

The only sound coming from him was a deep rumbling growl, a noise I've never heard of make. It was a threatening noise. Something was definitely wrong, and as I ran with him on my shoulders back to the house, the stench of death again began to fill the air. The two other dogs must have caught wind of what was happening and met me at the back door, which I threw open, slammed shut, locked and again loaded my firearms. How the hell could this thing have fallen to 650 miles up here? As I flipped my floodlights on, at the backside of my house,

several of the bushes and small trees at the forest edge were still shaking like something had just run through them. My dogs went crazy all night, barking and howling and attempting to get out the windows. I didn't sleep a bit. I don't think I will for a while. I know for sure I won't be in the woods after dark ever again in my life. not until this thing is gone. I'm a search and rescue officer for the U.S. Forest Service.

I have some stories to tell. I wasn't sure where else to post these stories, so I figured I'd share them here. I've been an S-A-R officer for a few years now, and along the way, I've seen some things that I think you guys will be interested in. I have a pretty good track record for finding missing people. Most of the time they just wander off a path or slip down a small cliff, and they can't find their way back.

The majority of them have heard the old stay where you are thing, and they don't wander far, but I've had two cases where that didn't happen. Both bother me a lot, and I use them as motivation to search even harder on the missing person's cases I get called on. The first was a little boy who was out burypicking with his parents. He and his sister were together, and both of them went missing around the same time. Their parents lost sight of them for a few seconds, and in that time, both the kids apparently wandered off.

When their parents couldn't find them, they called us, and we came out to search the area. We found the daughter pretty quickly, and when we asked where her brother was, she told us that he'd been taken away by the bear man. She said he gave her berries and told her to stay quiet, that he wanted to play with her brother for a while. The last thing she saw of her brother, he was riding on the shoulders of the bear man and seemed calm. Of course, our first thought was abduction, but we never found a trace of another human being

in that area. The little girl was also incessant that he wasn't a normal man, but that he was tall and covered in hair, you know, like a bear, and that he had a weird face. We searched that area for weeks. It was one of the longest calls I've ever been on, but we never found a single trace of that kid. The other was a young woman who was out hiking with her mom and grandpa. According to the mother, her daughter had climbed up a tree to get a better view of the forest, and she'd never come back down.

They waited at the base of the tree for hours, calling her name before. they called for help. Again, we searched everywhere, and we never found a trace of her. I have no idea where she could have possibly gone because neither her mother or grandpa saw her come down. A few times I've been out on my own searching with a canine, and they've tried to lead me straight up cliffs, not hills, not even rock faces, straight, sheer cliffs with no possible handholds. It's always baffling, and in those cases we usually find the person on the other side of the cliff or miles away from where the canine has led us. I'm sure there's an explanation, but it's sort of strange. One particularly sad case involved the recovery of a body. A nine-year-old girl

fell down in the embankment and got impaled on a dead tree at the base. It was a complete freak accident, but I'll never forget this sound her mother made when we told her what had happened. She saw the body bag being loaded into the ambulance, and she led out the most haunting, heartbroken whale I've ever heard. It was like her whole life was crashing down around her, and a part of her had died with her daughter. I heard from another S-A-R officer that she cated herself a few weeks after it happened. She couldn't live with the loss of her daughter. I was teamed up with another S-A-R officer because we'd received reports of bears in that area. We were looking for a guy who hadn't come down from a climbing trip when he was supposed to, and we ended up having to do some serious

climbing to get to where he figured we'd be. We found him trapped in a small crevasse with a broken leg. It was not pleasant. He'd been there for almost two days, and his leg was very obviously infected. We were able to get him to chopper, and I heard from one of the EMTs that the guy was absolutely inconsolable. He kept talking about how he'd been doing fine, and when he'd gotten to the top, a man had been there. He said the guy had no climbing equipment, and he was wearing a parka and ski pants. He walked up to the guy, and when the guy turned around, he said he had no face. It was just blank. He freaked out and ended up trying to get off the mountain too fast, which is why he'd fallen.

He said he could hear the guy all night climbing down the mountain and letting out these horrible muffled screams. That story bothered the hell out of me. I'm glad I wasn't there to hear it. One of these scariest things I've ever had happened to me involved the search for a woman who'd gotten separated from her hiking group. We were out until late at night because the dogs had picked her up at dissent. When we found her, she was curled up under a large rotted log. She was missing her shoes in pack, and she was clearly in shock.

She didn't have any injuries, and we were able to get her to walk with us back to base ops. Along the way, she kept looking behind us and asking why that big man with black eyes was following us. We couldn't see anyone, so we just wrote it off as some weird symptom of shock. But the closer we got to base, the more agitated this woman got. She kept asking me to tell him to stop making faces at her. At one point she stopped and turned around and started yelling into the forest, saying that she wanted him to leave her alone. She wasn't going to go with him, she said, and she wouldn't give us to him.

We finally got her to keep moving, but we started hearing these weird noises coming from all around us. It was almost like coughing, but more rhythmic and deeper. It was almost insect-like. I don't really know how else to describe it. When we were within sight of base ops, the woman turns to me. and her eyes are about as wide as I can imagine a human can open them. She touches my shoulder and says, He says to tell you to speed up.

He doesn't like looking at the scar on your neck. I have a very small scar on the base of my neck, but it's mostly hidden under my collar, and I have no idea how this woman saw it. Right after she says this, I hear that weird coughing right in my ear, and I just about jumped out of my skin. I hustled her to ops trying not to show how freaked out I was, but I have to say, I was really happy when we left that area that night.

This is the last one I'll tell. And it's probably the weirdest story I have. Now, I don't know if this is true in every S-A-R unit, but in mind, it's sort of an unspoken, regular thing we run into. You can try asking about it with other S-A-R officers, but even if they know what you're talking about, they probably won't say anything about it. We've been told not to talk about it by our superiors,

and at this point, we've all gotten so used to it that it doesn't even seem weird anymore. On just about every case where we're really far into the wilderness, I'm talking 30 or 40 miles, at some point we'll find a staircase in the middle of the woods. It's almost like if you took the stairs in your house, cut them out, and put them in the forest. I asked about it the first time I saw some, and the other officer just told me not to worry about it, that it was normal. Everyone I asked, said the same thing. I wanted to go check them out, but I was told very emphatically that I should never go near any of them.

I just sort of ignore them now when I run into them because it happens so frequently. I have a lot more stories and I suppose if anyone's interested, I'll tell some of them tomorrow. If anyone has any theories of other stairs or if you've seen them too, let me know. I think I had a run in with a Skinwalker last night and I'm afraid it might come back. This entire thing happened last night and I still don't know how to feel about it. I'm honestly still shaking up. I'm afraid that my dogs might get hurt or even my family. So I've come here in search of advice as to what I should do now.

Most have happened around eight-ish. When my mom's girlfriend called me downstairs, she had asked me to help her burn some of the boxes we had lying around in the kitchen so we could clear up some space. We live in a pretty small house, two bedrooms and one bathroom for five people. I have two younger sisters, one I share a room with, 12 and the other 10, sleeps in the living room most nights, and we live with my mother, her girlfriend who is very, very mentally ill, mind you, and my dog, Kobe, about two years old, Valentine, who we've had for six years,

and they're three puppies, so there really isn't a lot of room to go around, and we could use the extra leg room. So I agreed, and we took the boxes out from her house and into the backyard. Our backyard is the biggest in our small neighborhood, and is not fenced in. We are also one of the only houses on the block that has a shed, which is identical to our next door neighbors. Our driveway reaches over to our shed, and since the yard is open, they both sort of connect. Anyway, while she was breaking down to the boxes and lighting them on fire, I'm not permitted to use the lighter. I was putting Kobe out on the chain to use the bathroom. Don't worry, his chain doesn't reach all the way across to her yard, and he was far away from the fire, while Valentine is roaming around the yard.

The fire goes fine and we burn about two or three big boxes with no problem. Everything was very under control and we were even having fun with it. Around the end of the fire when the flames had started to fade away, Kobe started running back and forth from the driveway to near where we were, barking frantically and trying very hard to get off his chain like he was afraid and was trying to warn us of something. When this happened, I also noticed that Valentine was growling in the driveway. So I got up and walked over to him and see what was wrong. And I smiled and asked him, what's the matter in that sort of baby voice?

But while I was standing there, I got that feeling. You know the one where you know you're not alone. I could feel someone's eyes looking right through me. I looked over in the direction of Valentine's barking, and I instinctively yelled, Oh my God, at what I saw. There was this inhuman-looking thing, standing in the driveway only a few feet away from me. Despite having the light from the back door being open and all the fire nearby,

this thing was completely black. All I could see was its bulging eyes staring right through me, never wavering. It was so thin and tall, standing much taller than the small shed at the end of the driveway, easily seven feet tall. And God, I could just feel that something was completely off about this thing. Some voice in the back of my head was telling me, this thing wants to hurt. It's so angry.

And it was like me and this thing were having to see. staring contest. I heard my mom's girlfriend asked me what was wrong and I looked away for just a second and it was gone. Completely disappeared, but I could still feel its energy looming around. When I told my mom's girlfriend what happened, we put out the fire and we brought the dogs inside. I ran to my mom and told her the same thing I told my girlfriend and she tried to give me logical explanations to what I saw but none of them really made sense. She must have seen that I was afraid and wanted to cover me, but her excuses gave me no comfort. After that, I went up to my room with Kobe and tried to shake it off that feeling that thing had left me with, but honestly, I couldn't. I was struggling for a while.

I stayed up there talking with my boyfriend for maybe 15 to 20 minutes before I heard my mom calling for me from downstairs. Her and her girlfriend had gotten into a fight and she had locked herself in the bathroom. Mom was fine with it and simply told me to keep an eye on the food while she went to pick up my sisters from their friend's house, so I said, okay, and went to do something. so while she left out the front door. Not even two minutes later, my mom comes rushing back inside and I heard her walk into the hallway where the bathroom is and say, girlfriend's name, there's something standing outside watching the house. My heart sank. She finally believed me, so girlfriend comes out from the bathroom and says that she had seen the same thing trying to peek

into the windows from the bathroom. And she immediately ran to her room to grab a metal bat, and she ran out the back door screaming, if anybody's out here, I'll bash your fucking head in. at the top of her lungs. Regardless of the situation, my mom still had to pick up the kids, so I walked her out to her car, then quickly retreated back inside and grabbed a hammer from the closet. Kobe started slamming himself into the back door, screaming bloody murder out of absolutely nowhere. I'd never seen him do anything like it before, so reluctantly I put him on his chain so he could protect the girlfriend while she was out on the lookout.

While this happened, I hid myself in the bathroom, since it's one of the only rooms in the house with a working lock, and I called my grandma. who was at work and told her everything. She's a huge believer in this kind of stuff, just like I am, so she listens to what I had to say and tried to calm me down a bit since I was absolutely losing my shit. I'm normally a pretty mature and rational person, but I just felt so unsafe and everything felt off.

Just when things started to calm down, the girlfriend comes running into the house and tells me urgently that something had broken the basement window from the outside, and she was afraid it had gotten into the house. So I hung up on my grandma after saying goodbye, had 911 on speed dial, and we went to check. Didn't see anybody. Searched around the house and nearby and found nothing. It was like this thing was taunting us.

The kids and mom came back and still things had seemed to cool down. But I could still feel that off and uneasy feeling like it wasn't actually gone. Like it was waiting for the right opportunity. Grandma had called me back to say that she would be taking me to her house. for the night, as I'm homeschooled, unlike my sisters, and it wouldn't be an issue. The kids would sleep upstairs and it with doors locked, Kobe with them, and the hammer I had from before. Grandma came and picked me up after work, and on the way to her house, she told me that while I was

explaining all this, the hairs on our arms had stood up, and she could feel the negative energy that I was telling her about. Like she knew exactly how I felt when I said something was definitely wrong and unnatural about this thing that was tormenting us. Later on this morning, I got a call from mom saying that, after I was. I left, she had invited some friends over to keep her company, ones with conceal and carries, and she had went to grab something from the kitchen, which is where the back door is located, and she heard Kobe's chain rattling outside and something's weight shifting on the back porch

right next to the door. When everybody was inside and Kobe was upstairs, I don't know. Laying in bed and thinking about it, I think that this thing was trying to latch itself to the dogs, and that's why Kobe felt the need to be outside. He's been keeping very close to me since I've come home and I have been very wary about going outside by myself while it's dark. I just came here hoping that someone would offer some sort of advice as to what I should do. I've dealt with paranormal stuff practically my entire life and this feels completely different. If anybody knows what I should do, please reach out or comment on this post. I'm desperate to protect my family.

So a friend of mine told me I should be coming here to talk to you all about my, I feel paranoid calling it a problem, but it's starting to feel that way. The gist, I guess, basically, is that I work for a security guard service, and what I do personally is sub in for security guards around my area when they cannot get another guard to cover shifts. And honestly, I make more hours than you would think. My area is a tourist spot in many hotels and sites want full night security, etc. But recently, after a job at a resort over here,

I'm having some unusual events happening to me on a near-nightly basis. And just last night, things started to happen in my home. Now, my friend recommended me here, and I probably wouldn't have even considered his advice, except for the fact that here I am at work again tonight, and I keep feeling like I'm being followed or watched again. And not quite sure what else to do at this hour, but tell of my goings-on and keep posting pictures of things happening here. Presently, I'm outside patrolling this part of the grounds that's under construction.

I think a new truck housing lot or loading house, I'm not exactly sure. But I keep feeling like maybe. There's somebody out here with me. I'll walk around and hear something shuffle in the construction. And it could be just animals, but after my week, it's, well, I'm on edge to say the least. And the OP posts a picture of the construction site, I guess he's working on. and you can just see how dark it is and honestly creepy and then he continues saying not sure if i messed up these name fields here or what but i am the op i'm sitting here in this construction at night and i'm

pretty sure i am hearing footsteps crunch up in the construction but then when i get my light up on it i'm not really seeing anything but at this point that just would be following suit for my week definitely consider calling it up my supervisor pretty sure i just saw a guy out here but every time i try to get my my light over on him, it's just no good. Just creeping me out in general since the rest of the place where it's not construction is literally just fields of dirt and there's absolutely nothing worth stealing here, not even tools. And then someone comments under this thread to the OP saying, you need to learn how to pick up a name. All that aside, what makes you think that this isn't just actually some normal person there to steal stuff? I mean, isn't that why people hire security

because they have things they want to protect? And then someone commented, kind of a joke saying, O.P., it's your boss. I hired you to guard the site from any potential vandals or hooligans out on Halloween, not to browse 4chan, get back to work. And then the O.P. replies to both of these saying, normally, I would completely agree with you.

I mean, this is literally what I'm here for. But in almost my whole time working security, all the incidences I've ever had were just blatant things. Telling people to get out of the resort pool or stop trespassing, etc. But ever since last week, it's like this exact same kind of shit's been happening at work. Sounds like people are coming upstairs and then nobody is there.

Or my gear just turning up missing. Or randomly in totally wrong spots. Walk out of the office and have been doing rounds and find my two-way just sitting in the middle of the hall floor. Just lots of little weird things and this place is creepy to boot. I don't really need much extra coaxing to be stressed out here. I think I'm going to just keep dumping some pictures. though. The flashes of light in the area make me feel a bit safer anyways. And then someone comments saying, my friend, we are here with you in your dark hour. Keep posting and talk to us.

We will keep you company. And then someone says, you work in the state's OP. And then the opier responds to the we're with you comments saying, I really appreciate that. I'm taking lots of photos, but I hear some noise over by the work tracker thing. And I got a few quick snaps, but in all actuality, it looks more like something is in by the porta potty and not the tracker stuff. In the photos, it looks like maybe something starts to obscure some of the posts and the dirt, but there was not really anyone there. And I'm not sure why some of the post began to obscure in the photos and then came out perfectly fine again in later ones. And then the O.P. Posts a picture. And in the picture, we can see the porta potty he's talking about, a light out in the

distance and just kind of, yeah, dirt everywhere. Yeah, you can't really see any. anything else but yeah pretty eerie photo to be honest and then he continues saying um creepy as shit i'm about to post the rest of the construction work photos for now and move back over to the truck loading area and then he replies to the state's question saying yeah i do work in the states sounds are creepy as fuck especially when there's not anything you can find that makes them and then he posts another picture it looks like it's just slightly to the left of the original picture nothing different still port-a-potty still dirt uh yeah anyways and then uh someone comments and asks, how large is this construction area? Are you the only one garden it? And the

OP response saying, yeah, I'm the only one here. The actual entire construction area of this place is pretty big. I'd say at least three acres of completely flat open field with work going on, maybe only on a third of it. But the trucking lot that's already been here for a while is just a few buildings and warehouses large at best. And I think that's the main concern for property theft, which makes it all the more odd that someone would be out here with me in this barren construction zone. Does anyone else notice how these posts become obscured? I literally have no idea why, but I definitely felt like looking back on it, something was just standing in front of those posts.

And then he posts another picture and we can't really see anything. I mean, something could be standing in front of that post, but still it's just the port-a-potty picture. I don't really see anything. But anyways, someone says not exactly. sure what that is in the pictures, but two of those posts definitely do seem to just kind of disappear. Fucking weird O.P. And then the O.P. comes back and then gives us an update saying, was walking back over the truck lots and I heard some scuffling for sure over in a bit of one of those

buildings. Came from right in the middle, but I snapped his shot and got nothing. And then it just looks like a construction zone. And yeah, nobody there. I would be freaking out if I was him, though. And then he gives us another update saying, after hearing that stuff, I kind of booked it over the truck lot. Much better lit over here. Although creepily, there are even more places to hide if someone was actually here with me. And yeah, I guess so. It's a creepy kind of warehouse area. But I'm kind of surprised the OPE hasn't told us what he's really hearing. I guess just noises. And then someone comments saying, truck place looks pretty creepy to O.P. You live in an abandoned city or something. and then the OP says, no, I live in a pretty popular little tourist trap actually. It's really just a lot of these places and the industrial part of town are pretty run down.

And he gives us another picture of a wall. I think he's just going to keep updating us with the pictures. And then someone makes a comment saying, I'm sure it is nothing. I'm not very skilled with contrast editing. And then, yeah, this person kind of contrasted the picture so you can see. And yeah, we definitely can't see anything in the picture, the OP sent. And then the OP gives us another update and replying to that saying, do you think maybe you can do the same to the ones with the post near the rent a shitter?

That's the part that was really messing with me. Also, just these truck slots are so weird. They just pile trash everywhere. And then he sends a picture of the trash and yeah, someone definitely could be hiding in there. And then someone replies to that picture saying, there's nothing OP. You're just being paranoid in my opinion. You shouldn't have took on that guarding duty if you're scared. this easily. And yeah, the person kind of turns up the contrast and there's nobody or nothing there.

And then the OPR response to that saying, not this picture, it was the earlier ones with the portable bathroom and the shot that I was worried about. And it's not really not that I'm scared all that easily. This place just literally gives me the creeps. These picks I've been posting over the last three have all just been junk in the truck yard. I start getting ready to leave duty anyways here in about five minutes or so. I lied. Fuck all that. other noise. Can you enhance this photo? I could have sworn it sounded like feet crunching on gravel behind this truck and I took a quick flash and it kind of looks like legs under the side of the truck. I'm not sure though. My display is kind of shitty out here and then he posts a picture and to be

honest I can't even see a truck in here but I guess the OPE heard crunching on gravel which is creepy and then he made another post saying was there in a subsequent frame too? Just not exactly sure what that is. And I guess you can see like a dumpster or something there. I can't really see anything, but we have to wait for that one commenter to turn up the resolution or the contrast. And then someone comments saying,

I'm no photo wizard, but here you go, O.P. If there's nobody there with you fit real, it's time to call the Ghostbusters. And yeah, he posts the higher contrast photo and you can't really see anybody. So, yeah. And then the O.P. responds to that saying, those are just what I snapped in my burst mode shot.

It's dark on shit in this particular spot, and this is the best resolution my phone gets out here. On that note, now that I am completely terrified, having gone around the truck pretty much around 60 seconds later, and it being the area where all the trash is packed with no easy way out, my change of shift just got here to relieve me. I let him know I thought maybe someone was legitimately there, but something tells me if this is going to follow the same suit as the rest of the week,

I'll be the only one having shit to happen to me at all. And then someone says, probably foxes shuffling around. Someone says, not sure foxes look like those last pictures. Yeah, those look like some fucking legs standing there. And I'm going to take a double check at this.

And oh yeah, they're actually kind of do look like two legs there, but it almost looks doctored to me. I mean, I don't think it is doctored, but yeah, that is a little bit creepy. It's kind of like a ghost almost.

Yeah, double checking that, that's a little bit creepy. Anyways, the OP gives us another update to replying, Yeah, they definitely do. Well, that completely just with me so hard. I was doing a job over at a hotel here about a week ago, and I had this crossing with this really odd guest at the hotel. He was well-dressed, suit jacket and best every time I saw him,

probably younger 30s, but taller, over six feet. And he seemed fine. But I kept finding him all night wandering the halls, getting ice, going out to smoke, going out for eggs. He gave me excuses without provocation every time I saw him that night. What was odd is I never saw him twice

on the same floor except for maybe once, and I must have seen him at least six times over the course of a single night, but there was something weird about him. Like he locked eyes with me a little too long. And when he would walk away, I knew he would stop walking

and just watch me leave. It was super creepy. Then, after the night, Every single job I've been on, I've been hearing footsteps and seeing things out of the corner of my eye. And I swear to God, it gives me the exact same creepy vibe of that guy. I don't know exactly what the deal is, but it just feels exactly the same. Every night since then, even nights when I'm not at work, I'm hearing this stuff in my house since a day ago. But that photo is blowing my mind.

I'm fucking sure those are his slacks. And then someone responds to this saying, well, if you're not just trolling us, I feel for you. My brother is a security guard and I'm picturing him in your shoes. Stay safe. Someone else says, did anyone else mention seeing this guest? And then someone else says, can you take any more photos around that truck? See if we get anything else? And then someone else says, take a picture of the other side.

Also, can someone circle what I'm supposed to see here? I don't get it. And then the OPE responds to all of these saying, Honestly, this past week is the first time anything even remotely strange has happened at all during my security work. I've never even been into paranormal stuff or anything before all of this. I seriously was starting to think I was going crazy out here, but that picture kind of sold me on it. I don't feel quite as crazy anymore, but I wouldn't worry too much for your brother. I've literally never had anything happen like this week.

I'm not sure. I mean, while I was on shift, no complaints were phoned in at all or anything, and I think the whole night I only even saw just one other couple. I usually go on shift about 11 and get off around 7, so not seeing anyone during fall season here is pretty normal at nights, but I saw this guy at least six times, which is pretty abnormal, just in and of itself. But the way he acted was just so nails on a chalkboard,

if you catch what I mean. Everything was fine on the surface, but it was just something, about him. I guess I can call up there, when in just a bit when the real hotel desk staff comes in and ask them if there was any kind of complaint about that guy. I already left post at that such place, and I think that was really my only night this week on post at that spot. I go somewhere else tonight, and I'm not sure if taking photos now would do much good anyways. The sun crested a while ago and daybreak has well set in now. Those final pictures were pretty much right on the edge before dawn.

And then some commenter replies to the worry about the brother comment, saying, Well, even though he's not into anything paranormal, a couple years ago, he saw a weird shadow man or something and had a chair move slowly on its own. I posted that story here a few times before. And he's been attacked by an actual human before. So all I'm saying is I respect the people who work dangerous jobs like this and want them to be as safe as possible. And then some people send the pictures of the porta potty where the Opie thought someone was blocking the pole.

And then someone says, pretty sure these pictures is what was going on for with these, or am I wrong OP? And then he posts a picture and he says all of them are in view. And I would agree, I don't see anyone blocking a poll. And then someone else comments saying, fourth poll obscured by what? And so I guess these two pictures, so did the guy like move in front of them or something like that?

I don't know. And then someone else says, if you follow the outline of the legs up, you can just barely make out the outline of a person creepy op you should definitely open up another threat again and then the opi responds that saying those are exactly what i was talking about when i was there those polls were the ones being like i don't know erased or something from my photos i just don't know what was blocking them i heard a sound somewhere else but the first photo that way made me see something over by the porta potty and i just snapped a few more burst shots at it and that's what came out

Those photos are all probably only five seconds apart total. And then someone else makes another comment about it. And they says, third pole gone completely. Fourth pole obscured almost completely. Black is almost solid. And so, yeah, someone definitely could be blocking it. But wouldn't something kind of show up if the OP took a flash photo? I don't know.

And then someone says, when you took that second picture, were you standing any further or closer from the pose than you were in the first picture? even if it was only a few steps, because in the first picture, you can already barely see the fourth poll. And then the O.P response to a few of these comments, there were actually about six or so in pictures on that burst. Those are just the definitively distinct ones, but I didn't move forwards or backwards at all, not even an inch. All I did was maybe pan the camera a little while it shot. And then the Opie says, all right, I think I'm going to call the hotel now. I'm sure the management was in. I know for a fact there was no security complaints that night, but sometimes the hotel night staff get trivial shit that they don't tell us about.

Suppose it's worth looking into, right? And then the OPE gives us an update saying, well, I called the hotel and I asked about last Tuesday and if they had any night shift report on the guy. It seems like the morning shift manager that's on right now was the same manager that was there on the Wednesday morning when I came off shift last week. I called and asked him if he had any problems with this one particular guy. And the manager got really uneasy sounding over the phone. He told me that actually he was the one at the front desk when the dude checked in. Just a little bit after the sun had gone down. He told me he remembered it was right after sundown because there was a fireworks show at dusk or something

and that the man had come in commenting about the show. It's not exactly that he babbled or anything, and I totally agree with that. he didn't really seem to babble to me either. He just said things that should have been really almost familiar or friendly, but coming from him, they were almost wrong. Like the guy who effed your girlfriend trying to talk to you about your favorite baseball team or something. It was like just insincere. Anyways, the hotel shift manager told me that the dude came in and bought three rooms,

and that struck him as pretty much downright weird. I mean, rooms are like hundreds of dollars a night, even in offseason, and it was just one guy, buying rooms, all for himself. Anyways, that really made him stick in the shift managers apparently, because this dude knew exactly who I was talking about the second I asked about the tall guy in the suit and vest. They didn't even have to tell him about the hair or anything before he started jabbering away about this shit. I didn't even want to ask him if he had anything else happened to him, but towards the end of the manager saying all that shit, he told me that the guy

checked out the next morning, but that since then, he thought he's seen the guy around this town this week, but only caught him in the corner of his eye places or in crowds for a second. Weird thing is, I have never seen that guy again. But the whole time he was anywhere around

me, it really was like having my nails run on paper or nails on a chalkboard, like I just needed to get away from it, kind of just kind of wrongness. Really an uneasy feeling about the whole thing and i haven't seen him i hope since then but every night to get that same feeling all the time and it feels like he's around anyways especially after last thursday when all the sounds started and then

someone comments saying well he sounds like a genuine creeper and a rich one at that rich sketchy guys are always super creepy and make sure you keep your phone well charged every time you go out do have a gun Mace or other means of defense while you're on guard. Also, maybe you could see if that manager can save any security footage he may have of the guy just in case shit starts again. Then he can be pointed out to the cops if he's stalking slash harassing you or doing any other sketchy shit. And then someone says maybe the guy was shooting a video or on drugs or something

or shooting a video while on drugs. And then the OPE response to these saying, I forgot completely about the security footage. Before I did security guard work, I actually did access control in DVR slash camera installs and gate control stuff and everything. I didn't think to ask them to pull the security footage, but I might swing by their security room here later and just do it myself when nobody is around. I don't really want to get caught using a DVR to take footage off just to creep on my potential creeper. I know that probably sounds weird. I don't own a gun, although I probably should.

I could get better security jobs too if I did. there don't think they let me take any other kind of weapon on post either they have pretty strict laws about that kind of stuff i'm lucky if my flashlight weigh more than two pounds and have lights that last more than 30 minutes continuously honestly security firms can be cheap skates even in high profile and then he says no definitely not a video i mean to say that but i don't know for sure but something about him just told me he didn't care about that i'm not sure about the drugs either Like I said, he wasn't insane. He was just wrong.

Like he just was the kind of person that when they smile, you know absolutely that they are a wolf wearing people skin. He was just wrong. He wasn't stupid or crackhead. He dressed super sharp in everything. He was just not good people. And then someone replies to him saying, well, I live in a gun-happy state. So my brother has his concealed carry permit and two handguns. So I at least know he has protection if he needs it.

I don't know what the laws are like where you live, but maybe it's time to discuss it with your employers. At the very least, you should be allowed mace or pepper spray. And yeah, it would be great if you could get the footage, but don't get busted if you don't ask permission. Don't lose your job over this. And who knows, the dude could be harmlessly a centric man or he could be a serial killer. Either way, it's always best to prepare for the worst-case scenario. You just don't want to do anything rash while you're at it. And then the OPE replies is just saying,

The only problem is that there are literally different laws and application when you're a security guard. There is a distinction between armed and unarmed postings, and regardless of your own personal carry permits, carrying a weapon in an unarmed post is a crime. Even with a permit. I could probably get away with pepper sprayer Mace though. And yeah, maybe he is harmless. But pictures with legs,

with nobody to go with them and the same exact feelings of mother gree that he gave off happening to me all week makes me think that maybe he's not so harmless although if you want to be dead it probably had been a perfect time tonight that post has no security cameras at all the truck one not the hotel the hotel definitely has floor cams and then a commenter replies to this opi saying i know that sucks that's why i suggested to discuss things with their employers and he was replying to the why he can't carry a gun and then the commenter replies to the pepper sprayer may's comment saying if you can get right on that and then he responds to the comment of the opi saying pictures with legs with nobody to go with them

that's sketchy and then the commenter says he definitely sounds sketchy to me but you just want to err on the side of caution for starters you don't know for sure the legs belong to him so you could be focusing so hard on this creepy guy that you totally missed the fact it was some potential robber scoping out the place or whatever someone else said says, maybe you could get one of those lapel cameras, cops wear for when you're posted somewhere that has no security cameras. That's a good idea, like a body cam. And then someone else says, maybe you could carry a taser. And then someone says, yeah, that's a great idea. Do this OP. A camera can be a great weapon, too, as has been proven over and over these days. Someone else says,

pretty sure a taser or stun gun counts, Aon. I'm sure there are laws restricting the use of them, too. Someone else says, wouldn't hurt to ask. And a stunt gun. gun is a shitty weapon in my opinion. Salt and silver might be better for OP if he thinks he's up against something paranormal. And then the OP response to these comments saying, the lack of security cameras usually is a non-issue. My phone does the job pretty well, I mean, and it's potentially more visible as a deterrent than a lapel camera. Both are pretty much useless, though as someone's going to murder me though. I mean, the best way to make those videos never appear is just kind of murk me and mark my phone yeah and then he responds to the comment saying unfortunately stun guns and

tasers are also prohibited on unarmed post mace is probably as good as my options get and then the opi says it's not that the legs definitely belong to him but i've been definitely been hearing shit for the past week and the point of the matter is they were definitely legs in that photo and that kind of reinforces how i felt about being followed around you think a potential burglar casing a joint would follow the night security around me thinks that's exceptionally counterproductive to accomplishing a good heist especially since i reported all that stuff in my logs furthermore the really messed up part is the never actually seen a full person hell i've never seen any amount of any person basically until right this morning and then someone responds saying i don't know what to tell

you op we'll just have to wait and see how this unfolds this is x and all but even though i want to believe I'm a little skeptical at heart, and I'm pretty sure this is just some crazy creep. Who knows why stalking you, or at least your workplace, but if you can catch him in the act, you can do something about it. And then someone response to the burglal

or casing and joints would follow the night's security round question, saying, it's risky and criminals are usually dumb. But maybe if he was working with another guy, keeping track of where you are, might have been useful. You know, if they fancied themselves as pulling some Ocean's 11 shit or whatever,

But I think you're probably right. Have you talked to anyone else that's work security at this place? Maybe it isn't just you. And then the Opie responds saying, See, and if it was just my workplace, I would have been all right with it. The day before last, I started to hear this shit in my house as well. I mentioned it earlier on this thread. Live in a two-story place, and I know I heard feet hitting the weird stare in my house about four times that night.

And I woke up with windows open in my place on the second floor. Windows that never opened. open. I mean, fuck. I never even open any windows. So whatever's messing with me at work, I'm almost positive, has been home with me. And then someone comments, unless the robber had access to the new age experimental optical camouflage and could render himself more or less invisible, that wasn't a damn robber. And then the OP comments, talking to the hotel manager was the first time I even mentioned this stuff to anyone even related to a workpost. I mean, until this morning, I thought I was going a bit crazy.

Hearing all this shit with no proof, seeing those two legs help me out quite a bit knowing I'm not going mad at all, pulling Ocean's 11 shit on what? A half-constructed truck lot? Or a truck yard that mostly has trashed pallets? I'm just baffled

as to what there was to steal from there. And this is like the seventh place I've had these events start to unfold though only the first time I took photos, which seemed productive actually. And then someone asked, sounds like you need to invest in home security as well. More cameras, too.

If you hear noises again, do not ignore it. Try to find the source as quietly as possible. You can take down an intruder in your home with a weapon, I'm sure, unless your state has fucked up laws. And then the OPE responds to that saying, No, I feel very well-versed in actually taking down intruders and fighting. I've been in quite a few brawls and my actual home is lined with many blunt and pointy things.

but out on the job feels pretty weird. Feel more vulnerable there than I do in my own home. Though that's probably pretty normal, I suppose. King's Castle and all? Also, I'm not dismissing Highly Skilled Creeper. He just would have to be exactly that. An insanely highly skilled creeper. This stuff has been going on for over a week of solid, though.

I think maybe I'll ask a friend to stay over, and I'll start photowing everything. And keep it all posted here? Maybe there's somewhere else. I could keep it all posted. It wouldn't have to worry about a 404? And then someone says, Hey, O.P., as a fellow unarmed guard,

don't do anything that is going to get you shit canned. Taking security footage covertly and carrying Mace with you is probably not a good idea. And the OP responds to this saying, that's probably really good advice about the security footage. Mace, though, I was just going to talk to my CEO on Postabout and ask him if it could be worked out. I don't see a reason why not, as it's the very bottom of the non-lethal deterrence, so to speak.

I really do want to see some security footage of that guy, but I'm pretty iffy on it myself. Though in this instance, I was actually part of the work that did all the security hardware installs on a sister hotel on the other side of town. And I know they are done up identical. Getting to the stuff should be absolutely no problem. But being wary of getting fired is a definite concern. Maybe I'll just ask the shift manager later today and see what we can do. And then the O.P. And some commenters kind of chop it up for a bit talking about stuff.

None of it was really that important. But then the O.P. goes back to work later that night and says, I actually am alive at work in post right now. Not much going on tonight despite it being Halloween. We normally have flashlights on post, the one last night, just gave out before I even started taking photos. Most of these posts aren't really heavily maintained for equipment. just posting a photo I took last night to prove it's me still and then the picture is just of a

i guess yeah the construction site so that's just to prove it's the op and then he says i tried to start another thread but it didn't go over well having a hell of a night over here tonight a lot of photos and plenty of noises and shit i'm almost positive that whatever is back with me tonight post did indeed have a flashlight with me and also where i left off in the other thread i was pretty sure I'd seen a guy over here. Snapped a few quick photos with a light on the building where I thought I saw movement. And then he posts a picture

and God, this is terrifying looking. I mean, you can't really see anything, but I can't imagine just being out here in the dark and thinking some person was there with me. But it looks like a building in the distance. I don't know what's close to him. Maybe a sidewalk. And yeah, you can't really see anything else.

And then the OPE says, picture that happened after that one. Thought I caught movement on this shed, but the photos all came out like this one. And of course, by the time I got up to it, there was nothing around at all. And then he posts another picture, and it's very blurry, but equally as eerie. And then someone says, someone enhanced these images. Something is there. And then the OB says, I don't know how to do it on my phone, or I would do it myself. Heard some stuff sounded like some scuffling over here, so I came to the tree to look around. Nothing but creepy tree here, I guess.

I hate all of these noises with a nothing to make them. And then he posts a picture of the tree. And yeah, all of these photos look like from a horror movie. I don't know how the Opie's doing this while he's typing on a 4chan. I mean, I believe him, but yeah, so, so scary. And then someone says, maybe a weird question, but did you get a good look at the tall gentleman's eyes? The color and the shape? And then the OPE says, heard something over here and snap some more photos.

All I'm seen in those photos myself are just the same kind of dark obscuring effect that was going on last night but if there's something there I'm probably going to shit my pants and then he shares another photo of trash can a picture of the building I suppose I don't know where he's doing his security job I don't think this is the construction site that it was at last night but I'm sure he'll update us soon and then the opi response to the eye question saying I did they were pretty basic just a normal brown color and the shape was pretty normal why do you ask and then he says no I agree. There is definitely something there. But it's the same kind of shit as last night. And I'm mostly doing bursts of images. I'm just picking the ones out where the things being off

are in fact most noticeable. I'm completely aware that it definitely looks like something is there. That's why I'm even posting them at all. I'm hoping to catch something here, been hearing shit all night. I didn't mean literally if there's something there. I meant like a full figured person or something more exacting. I am completely well aware there looks like there's something or somebody in those shots. That's why I'm posting them going,

what in the fuck am I looking at here? I agree with you both. And then someone says, curiosity, was he whites, black, Latin or Persians perhaps? hunched over at all? Crooked teeth? And then the Opie response to that saying,

he was white. No olive toned the skin or much bronzing. His teeth were all fine. And he stood up straight. every time I was looking at him. He had no physical deformity of any kind of unusual value effect or anything. He was completely physically normal.

And then someone says, that's a good sign. It is possible that you might have just encountered an affluent psychopath. Some people pick up on that sort of thing and it really does get to the core. Perhaps everything else is mere coincidence. This is what I would hope.

And then the OP posts a creepy picture of a crucifix in the dark saying, And oh boy, just some creepy window crucifix here. Thanks for having my heart jump, Doc. And then, yeah, even though I don't know where he is, but yeah, if I was at nighttime and I just see that pop up, I'd be a little bit spooked. And then he says, affluent psychopath, good sign. Oh, okay, I'm glad that's all then.

Why is shit so much creepier in the dark? And then he posts another picture of a terrifying kind of cafeteria sort of looking thing. Yeah, very creepy. And then someone says, that small shed supposed to be. And the O.P. says, not sure. I've never been in it or anything, and it's part of the medical park, but I don't have keys to basically any buildings up here, as they are all privately owned. Not sure at all, what is facilitating here. And then someone posts a picture of a highly contrasted picture of the O.P. sent and says, let the shitting begin.

And yeah, it does look like a person there. But then someone says, I think we're just overthinking it because, in reality, it just looks like a dark shadow. but yeah that is a very eerie picture I mean it could be just a person standing in the dark and then someone says that photo was just contrast altered by thinking required and then someone says call my supervisor about this because that's pretty compelling to someone being there he said he's going to come over and check it out with me and then someone says be careful op and can you bring extra flashlights or even set up floodlights and then the opi responds to that saying, my flashlight actually has not died at all tonight and has been used in every picture posted.

It's a pretty large mag light type, but it still affords little visual improvements at far range in conjunction with the camera. I suppose I could buy and bring my own, but that's spending money I don't really have. Floodlights are a definite non-go on essentially every post I work. Super came and went, I'm basically leaving post now. And he posted another picture of a creepy picnic area. Yeah, everywhere he's posted looks terrifying. And then he says, whenever I get home, I'm going to put all the photos on my PC and see if I can find any that are really out of place or something. And then the OP gets back to his computer and says, oh shit. Looking through some of the burst images shots I had, I think I have a few pictures with this guy in it. Holy fucking fuck. Let me find

a way to put them all together somehow. And then he puts them all together and says, oh fuck, most of definitely. I'm putting this picture up on this section of burst images so you can see he's only in a few stills next to each other. Then I'm going to upload the ones he's in. I swear it's that effing guy. Mother effer. And he says definitely the guy. And he posts a picture and oh my god. Look at this. This is genuinely one of the most terrifying pictures I've seen on a 4chan thread. Look at that. He barely caught him. There is a guy there. confirmed why is there a guy with op? Oh my god, there's somebody there.

You can see that he was kind of like looking back. The guy kind of looks bald almost next to a truck. That gave me goosebumps everywhere. And then he says, there was literally nobody around here. And that truck in the photo wasn't even a good distance away from this window reflection. This meant this guy would have been just out of my line of sight, but it couldn't have been more than a 200,

away from me. And then you can see the guy looking back almost. Oh my gosh. This is so scary. And then he says, so yeah, rethinking going back on post without a weapon now. And oh my God, you can see the guy. This is probably the best picture we have of the guy, black suit, some sort of kind of gray hair, maybe a comb over. And yeah, white truck. This is genuinely terrifying. This is the scariest story I've ever read so far. Anyways. And then someone replies saying, he is kill and then someone else says that looks like him all right it's not a friend or coworker with you is it you said a friend recommended you here maybe he's in on it and then the opi replies saying i'm not dead was phoning the hotel to get this dude's name and license plate stuff

apparently the dude paid in cash and told them he didn't have a car my life a lot i got basically zero to go on i did tell the cops though and they said they're going to pull the security footage from the hotel and get to looking for him. I really do hope they get this guy. It's starting to get seriously funky. Also, no, I definitely don't know this guy and someone recommended me here as an afterfact that this shit was happening. In all actuality, it was a friend who moved away and who had almost no way of knowing prior knowledge of these events until I told them myself, my life, too shitty to sleep. And then someone says, you need to rest. Otherwise, you'll be less alert when he shows up again. I know you feel uncomfortable, so tie bells slash cans that will make noise all in

your doorknobs and maybe put a few in front of the windows before he sleep. Or if that's too much trouble, ask a friend to come over who can stay awake and quietly read or watch TV and be around for backup. And then the opi replies to that saying, that might actually be a good idea, but I'm a bit pumped, at least for now. I only woke up 11 hours ago, so it's not exactly like I'm at 16 our sleep threshold yet or something. Also, now I'm going back and scrutinizing all of my burst imaging photos. I want to get like some solid events together for the cops on this, and I'm seeing him probably crop up in more places. I really need someone who can the contrast and stuff. I don't even have Photoshop or anything like that, so I wouldn't know where to start. Here he is again,

just standing. What's tricky is that in the other frames of this burst shot, he's not just there in any other frame, and it's only like a second or so apart. Makes me wonder how many frames he really is in, and I've missed him. And then he posts a picture, and you can see him in the distance. Oh my God. This is terrifying. So, yeah, in the picture with the trash can in the tree, when he turned up the contrast, you can see the guy in the far distance. I don't know how far away it is.

It looks pretty far, but this guy is literally stalking O.P. and then someone says, well, it seems he may have been in this photo two opi. Maybe we should look at all the rest. Was this thing in the picture in more frames than just one? And then the person turns up the contrast. And yeah, you can definitely see a silhouette of a person all the way out there. I mean, I don't know why this guy would stand there

if he knows the OP is probably taking pictures that way. Or maybe the stalker doesn't even know he's taking pictures and just thinks the OP has a flashlight. Very, very creepy stuff, though. And then someone else says, is it just me or in the last picture that OP posted, does it look like there's a cross on that tree? And I agree

I was going to mention that, but it was minor. It does look like there's a cross on the tree, but that's unrelated. And then someone says, well, save the idea for when you do need to crash. This guy is a motherfucker niger. What did he do to dishonor his clan? And then the OP response saying, actually, it's not. In this shot, just before

the other one I posted, I got a clean hit on that building with the maglight and the camera pretty clean and whatever. whatever was there in the other photo that just got cleaned up is gone. Holy shit, why does it kind of look like that? Like hung up on a chain? Maybe a Halloween decoration or something? No fucking clue.

And yeah, it does look like a cross on the tree, but who knows? Very, very creepy stuff. And then someone says, here's an idea, O.P. Maybe try the direct approach, or at least as direct as you can get. The next time you hear or see him, yell out that you know he's there and he needs to stop fucking with you or you will get the cops involved. He's dedicated, so it may not work, but at least he'll have been warned. And then the Opie replies saying, yeah, I'll probably be calling someone over anyways,

regardless of sleeping or not. I seriously hope this dude doesn't figure me for dishonoring his clan. His level of get in, get the fuck out is R-worded scary to me at this point, so I really don't think I want him to get serious or violent with me. Honestly, hope this is all a really huge prank or something. And then he says, the direct approach, I mean, I'm willing to try it. My real concern here is that it just caused him to then start being more direct himself.

Not sure if I want that reciprocated. I'm not sure I have much to lose at this point, though. And then someone says, pretty sure that's my ninja creepster chilling back there. And then someone says, that was a thought of my mind. But he's not given up so far, and it's making you paranoid and worn out. At least if he tried to mess with you, you'd have a fighting chance to take him out or get evidence to prosecute his ass. And then someone says, I suggest you go get a GoPro next time, perhaps, and tell us what he looks like to you.

And then the Opie says, honestly, it sounds like a great idea, but currently, I really don't have the scratch to spend on a GoPro. I mean, it's first of the month bills and shit are literally slamming me today. The other problem is that more than half the time I'm not seen him at all. A flicker of movement here or there. Sounds, feet scuffling. Seriously, most of my experiences with this are all auditory. I'd say for every one of these times where I think I see him, there's 15 or so auditory ones happening. Shit that's usually in my cue to even start snapping photos, so I'm not sure how much different it would be in terms of me telling you all how he looks to me at that moment.

Unless, of course, you're implying he somehow looks different to me than you. You're definitely right about me being worn out and getting edgy about all this. Maybe if he shows up tonight where I'm at, I will try this more direct method. I think I'll take a sound recorder. I have to. Just in case any of the conversations occur? I don't know if that's a good idea. I'm just thinking of more evidence

to supply to the authorities, honestly. And then someone says, Holy shit, O.P. Just read through this whole thread. I don't know why, but this photo scared the living shit out of me. I agree with this guy. I actually got kind of jump scared

when I pulled it up. So scary. I could even look for it longer than a few seconds without feeling something really wrong with it, like eerie or something. Something is definitely with you. Be on your guard, bro, and keep us posted. Ain't no mace or taser going to help you out with this spoopy MFer.

Don't mean to be that Jesus Christian freak, and I don't even believe in the Christian religion, but carry a effing cross and some other spiritually thingies with you. Could help more than you know. For some reason, bad spirits can't stand being around the things. Good luck, brave, sir. And the O.P. responses to this saying, I definitely always felt some kind of eerie shit with this guy. Glad I'm not the only one.

I'm not really religious at all myself, but there was at least one cross there in the picture earlier. Ha-ha. That kind of creepy to me itself in these circumstances, but, I mean, if I didn't like crucifix or something, wouldn't it have pieced out around that building? But I saw it almost exclusively around that building tonight. Maybe it's just a man? Maybe it's more evil than those symbols relate to good? I mean, I don't know about this.

And I'm all frazzled out. I'm all for him being a man. In fact, I insanely prefer him being a man over anything unnatural. As far as evidence recording goes, I'm going to bring the little audio mic I have tonight and work with that. Maybe you guys can catch some of the sounds of other shit going on too. I can record video on my phone as well, but what's the best way to upload that all to you? Also, I did start a blog at the behest of one of you yesterday to maintain all this info. I was just waiting for all this discussion to die down before updating it with all of the things,

but it's the link as posting you all is here gets me spam response but all of this will go into that in case we 404 i'm all for it i'd kind of rather it not being him although i'm not actually sure what the dark spot was it's not there in other photos is the reason i really thought it was odd i'll post another one in a sec to show the difference and then someone says where could the shadow be from though because the two light sources are behind the little wall so that would have been shadowed over. What could be there? And in addition, the guards torches pointly, straightly towards that direction, so what could have been in front of the torch to cast that shadow? That creep looks like a hitman, if I'm honest. Gives me the chills. And then the Opie says,

oh, fuck me. No good. Here's the shed illuminated, but another picture coming that was actually taken after this one, but just a few frames before the shadowed one in question. And he shares it. And oh my god, he is right. The guy was there. Because look, look, there's no shadow there anymore. So someone had to have been there. And then he says, that shadow definitely looks like it has a bit more form in this one.

Now the other illuminated one wasn't in a burst set, but this and the other shadowed one were, when I got my mag light level on it and got to the shed, there wasn't anything there. Note that a lot of these photos are in at least four times zoom, and I'm pretty far away actually. And then he shows, oh my God, somebody was there. But my question is, how did he not, like, hear the guy run away or slide away?

Still equally as terrifying. And then someone says, well, fuck. I hope it was a natural shadow. Me too. And then, though, he says, yeah, so did I. This all has me very roller coaster back and forth. I almost want to just dump this whole image folder and let you all sift through them to find things and just let me know the outcome.

But there seriously was like, oh, my. almost 500 shots from last night. I'm still sifting through crap. And then some commenter sent a chilling photo and said, again, did editing. And it looks like a man in a trench coat and a white shirt, but same hairstyle as man in window along with body size and width. What do you think? And I agree. The more I look at this picture, the more it looks like a person standing there. And oh my gosh, look at that. That's so scary. And I agree. It's like the same sort of of suit top as the guy maybe just had it open with a white shirt underneath and yes looks like same frame oh my gosh what is stocking op and then the op says i think that in this shot he's not even

close to the shed holy shit look at that his feet are clearly planted much closer to me than i had previously thought i mean he's on my side of that line on the grass he much have only been again like 200 feet away from me or so how the fuck did i not see this guy every time I saw this guy, he was wearing a suit jacket, vest, and a red dress shirt. I'm not sure whatever he's wearing in these, but the height and the at least style of clothing does match. Hairstyle and stuff seemed so too. Although I can't get a real good look at it from this one. Just the general shape is the same. Seriously, though, the fucked up part is with it altered like this. It's his proximity. I really had wondered how he had ducked the burst shots if he was

was as far back as the shed because he would have to go around the back of it and walk away or else breach the light somewhere now it's even more puzzling because in front of the shed there is absolutely no fucking way left or right that he could have gone that would have not breached the lights and alerted me instantly either this dude is the best ninja ever or i'm the worst security guard period not rolling that last bit out though and then someone comments what if he hit the ground flat or just down. I'm leaving soon, but I'll be back later to keep this threat alive, O.P. You stay safe too. And then the O.P. says, I'm going to do my best staying alive. It's what I've done best in life so far. And then the O.P. says, yeah, I'm starting to write out the blog spot now to keep all this

cohesive from tonight and gives me a minute to put this into a more relaxing narrative, mostly just for myself. I hope that officially makes things better, ha-ha. The sad part is I am truly not joking. All the help I can get is appreciated at this moment. I like to think that I'm not going to wake up dead for work tonight. And then someone says, do what I suggested when you sleep. And how about telling your employer about the recent developments? And then the OP says, I did. I even call my supervisor over near the end of my shift tonight, and we wrote a huge report on it.

He basically was with me up until five minutes before my shift ended, helping me sort through the events of the night, although small now in light of recent events. That's why after I came home, I phoned the police in the hotel, to try and get authorities on the matter. In fact, the police are supposedly pulling the footage from the hotel. I told them I wanted to place a restraining order on this stalker, etc, etc. And then someone says, this guy reminds me of slender man.

In every photo, he's facing your direction. Even with the pick with the legs behind the truck, it looked like he was facing you. And then someone says, okay, good. Keeping others involved should help since they know what's going on. And then the Opie says, Nah, I don't know about all that.

There was one of the reflection photos where he is not facing me. I just didn't put it in. Notice in the burst image tab, there are four photos circled, but I only put up three. I thought the one where he was facing somewhere else wouldn't matter much, but here he is. Also, isn't Sunderman like faceless and all fucky? This dude looks like a normal face having people in the photos where he can just be distinguished at least. And then he adds the picture he didn't include. And yeah, he is facing a way you can barely see the guy.

but still those photos give me the creeps and then someone says get a blunderbuss it counts as antique so softer laws for them and night vision and pop that sucker and then someone says sorry op the laws you should carry a gun anyways thought it's unarmed post does anyone actually check for your weapons and definitely call a friend over to hang with you and the opi says unarmed post as a security guard with a class license. I have stricter standards on my ability to carry weapons and protect myself. I almost am at a disadvantage here, really, as having a weapon on an unarmed post becomes a felony, and using one, even in self-defense, under aggravated battery, is still a felony for me, regardless of it being a standard ground state in open carry and blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. It's the one bad perk about

actually having a security license. And then someone says, night vision then at least. And then someone says, valid points, but originally Slendy's stories were stories about a sharply dressed man who appeared in the background of photos of certain children before they disappeared. Faceless was never specified, I think, but still creepy, how behind the truck he couldn't have seen you but was facing you. Night vision. The only logical thing he suggested, but aren't they expensive as fuck? And what if Ninja Creep retaliates with a flashlight in the eyes?

And then the O.P. says, they don't check me per se, but last night he definitely did have a large blade in my car truck on post. though it was a f-all helpful all night since I was nowhere near my vehicle. I can and did carry a leatherman though. The blade on it is not very big, but they make them pretty solid, and I'm not half bad with any blade, part of growing up poor with some drunks for neighbors who like to throw bottles like kids, so I felt a little safer.

But defending myself openly with a premeditated weapon on post could result in me being the one charged and sent to prison. Not exactly something I feel like having to even go into trial to defend against, you know. Although at this point, I'm started to feel more relaxed about the whole concept of being armed. And then someone says, I think there's possibility to rent NightVision at local guns slash hunting gear slash military surplus store. Someone else says, I like the idea of you having a blade. If you ever approaches you, keep it hiding until he leads within striking range.

And don't take chances of P. If you make sudden movements, stab his ass. And then someone says, exactly. Don't let these guys bait you into a bad decision. It sucks, but. that's stupid loss for you. If it comes to that, it's best if you're at home. And then the OPE says, I really don't know.

I've only encountered the sensationalized version, I suppose. And, I mean, the guy's tall, maybe six foot three, but he's not really, really big. Also, he's not so slender. The dude in the hotel was a solid 230 pounds. Just a built dude. He really did remind me of a wolf wearing human skin. I gotta admit the truck thing was weird. In retrospect, he was standing.

he was standing like he was watching me through the trailer. Didn't even occur to me until now, really. Do remember, though, that I have seen this guy up close, assuming it's the same person at least. And I mean, aside from his general unease and oddity, I again stand by the fact that he looked more or less like people. It was his air and feeling about him, maybe the cadence of his voice that was just all wrong.

And then someone says, looks kind of fan ball to me. Are you sure he matches the appearance of the hotel guy? And then they attach four pictures of the guy's face that are kind of close up. And I don't think he looks bald, but it definitely has a comb over. And the feet under the kind of truck trailer, God, that is so scary. I didn't even notice that until now that it was a truck trailer. But yeah, so scary.

And then the OP says, I guess I could call around and look. These past two nights, I was just using a camera. I've been able to prove that I'm not going crazy and that there was at least someone out here with me. fucking with me or whatever. So I mean, utilizing that device has helped me out a lot. Maybe night vision would provide as much? I'm not sure. But I will be open-minded about it definitely.

Though obtaining some might be more difficult? I don't even know where a hunting store around here is. I might have to travel some to find that gear. And then the Opie also says, Yeah, I've got some scars from some knife fights. Again, I feel pretty comfortable around pretty much anything with an edge on it. If we get physical and it comes to stabbing time, I have little qualms.

The fact of the matter is, though, that I'll have to most likely make do with the knife blade on the leatherman. As a utility tool like that is not only permitted but encouraged on post where we don't have access to control, which is actually a lot of my work specifically since I only subshift for other guards really. And so I normally don't get entire master sets of anything when I'm out on these weird far out posts. And then someone says,

O.P., if he ever confronts you, call the cops first. even if you remain silent and leave an open line, they might or might not be able to trace it, but at least they could hear what's going on. You can't have a gun, but he might. Then your knife is useless. And then someone says, quick question.

In the reflection of the windows, was that your truck he's standing next to? If so, I really hope he didn't jump in the back seats or something and catch a ride with you. And oh my gosh, that is terrifying. I didn't even think of that. And the OPE responds to all these saying,

yeah, the dude in the hotel had hair, Wart parted out, one side down and the other side combed back or something. He wasn't bald, but definitely had some thinning up top. Actually, you blowing these shots up pretty much sells me on it. Looks dead on with the guy. The trimmed up beard and everything can't even be seen. Didn't really even think the dude was fat, but he was definitely like a broad tall dude. He actually looked more built out than fat.

But that face down there is fucking. Yeah, definitely the guy. And then he says, sorry, ha ha. If it makes you feel any better, he's been keeping me awake too. Yeah, definitely parted. He wore it like that also in the hotel. Definitely good advice that I will almost assuredly do. Not my truck.

The truck was there when I arrived on post and there when I left. And then someone says, very true, dude. He might interrupt O.P. trying to call the cops, though. And the knife isn't useless if he's dumb enough to get close to O.P. And then someone says, depends on the situation. Pocket dialed cops, stay silent, remove knife but conceal, confront creep. Dial and drop the phone. whip out knife, cut a bitch.

And when I say dial, this should be a speed dial. Let's hope it doesn't come to either of those. He is a vampire, most likely a nosferato, skip town O.P. And then the O.P. responds to both of these saying, yeah, really. Also, I'd like to point out that he doesn't seem quite so thick in his side view, which is consistent. I think in the other photo, we're just seeing his broad front really. And then someone says, how much longer until your next shift O.P.? It's 10.02 a.m. here.

Not sure if that matters, but I don't know if the time changes today or tomorrow. And then the OP responds to these saying, if he was a vampire, would we have got his reflection in all these windows? Although I am pretty sure that your post was all in jest, figured I'd give that ruling out now before someone really does try to sell that one in here. And then he responds to the question asking when his next shift is. And the OP says, next shift in 11 hours from now. And then someone says, I'll be there with you. O.P., try to get some rest, man. If you think whatever the fuck this is, man or spoopy ghost, is fucking with you at home, turn your voice recorder on before you go to sleep, as well as

the other ideas posted. And then the O.P. says, I suppose they do have the suit thing in common. I can see where you're coming from. At least he's responding to a Slenderman comment. He also says, I hope so too, man. The more support I get, the better. I'm thinking about making a Skype for this and trying to maintain a call the whole time I'm out. At least if anyone would be interested in joining it on that. And to just listen maybe? Just a thought. Yeah, he never struck me as the hugbot type.

This is a great idea. I was going to either head over to a friend's place in a bit or call over someone to house at me while I sleep before work. The recorder wouldn't hurt. The going through the data may prove difficult. And someone says, it might take a while, yeah. But if you upload it somewhere, you could scan through and look for any abnormalities in the sound waves. Not really sure how to do it, but I'm sure it can be done.

And then the O.P. makes a Skype for people in the thread to join him, I guess. And he says, just a fluff thing to use for this is anyone decides that they indeed would like to keep me company on one of these patrols for any amount of time. Just feel free to add me or something. And then someone says, dude, if I'm free and your phone can handle it, I'll join the Skype call. Hearing us talk could calm you down whilst you're out on the job. And then the OPE responds to that saying, yeah, really would most of my post i'm the only one on shift all night company of any kind would be greatly appreciated and then a few of the commenters and op he kind of chop it up for a bit talking about stuff

and being like okay i'll be there i won't be there but anyways then someone says what is still messing with me is the fact that this is obviously a larger fellow how is he getting around so nimbly and quiet i know you are confident in your hand-to-hand abilities but i'm thinking more and more it would be a huge mistake to tango with this fucker. And then the Opie says, seriously, can you post that at it? I'd really like to see it. If we can catch more of him from the previous night, it'll back up my statements to the police all the more. And then, yeah, I'm not sure, but something looks to be over there. Not exactly sure what, though. I'm confident, but again, when you look at someone and you think they are just some kind of just predator, just past the skin, you don't want to tangle with them

either. The agility this dude must have is beyond baffling. If that was him last night, again, like I said, he is either Anne Frank, level hide and go seek champ, or he's the Michael Phillips of free running. Not to mention he does all of this ninja shit and sitting in perfectly naturally obscured places like he knows exactly how the light is played. It's all quite astounding. If he weren't so creepy, he'd be amazing honestly. And then the Opie says, how long do these go before they hit a post or image limit. I've been almost consistently on page one of X for over 24 hours now. Is the threat in danger of 4-4 soon? And then someone says, $35 at Walmart, 2 million candle power. You'll be able to see and your friend Jimbo in the picture won't be able to. Do it. And then the

Opie says, this, I like this idea. If not today, I will be picking one up tomorrow. Only because I am no lie paying bills as we speak and watching my funds drain. But this will definitely become an inventory item for this shit. And then somebody says, anybody notice how all of O.P.'s photos have the light source aimed just at the side of the subject. So just barely enough light is cast to give his subject definition. Yet O.P. never sweeps his light to the left or right. 2 out of 10. OP, get either glasses or a bigger light or something better to do than with credulous ass bags on X. And then the Opie replies to this saying, I do sweep light over areas. Not to mention, most of these shots are at maxed out zoom and my light source is only a hand maglight.

Most of these shots, yet again, are just a few picked out of nearly 500 shots in a single night. You're not seen nearly even a solid fraction of all the photos. Just most of them are a lot of nothing. I'm only even posting things that may contain some kind of free. And then the OP posts a picture and this one is disturbing. That and yeah, I do need glasses. In all honesty, the camera at max zoom with the mag pointed at something sees much better at the distance of 400 to 800 feet in the darkness than I humanly do. So yeah, sometimes I will definitely admit I fuck up aiming and don't even see the shit I'm shooting at.

And if I don't catch something, how am I supposed to know to sweep the light? The shed in particular, I did in fact sweep though, even posted a clean image where it's being swept and there's nothing there. in the picture I was talking about, so take a look at this picture and take a look at this shed. And what's next to there? Doesn't it look kind of like a human kind of peeking out there? You can see the head and the torso and then through the legs. That looks like a person to me. Terrifying.

And then someone says, O.P., I believe that is him on the left of the shed. And then someone says, seems pretty tall and misshapen in this one. I think what we assume is his head might be a hand. either that shed is tiny or you have a problem and need to leave quickly. And yeah, this one is zoomed in. And I don't know what this guy's talking about. I don't think it looks like a hand. I think it's just like his head.

And also this is a super low quality image. So it's going to distort things. That looks like a head to me. And then you can see it's kind of like knee jutting out. And his hands look like it's in his pockets. The post become obscure because there isn't enough light to focus on anything. Nothing paranormal, just technical. Now you agree with that guy.

And then the OP posts. saying, well, fuck. I had a friend come over and I passed the fuck out earlier, didn't even see these. F my life. I woke up late and rushed to get to work. Shift just started a bit back, doing some paperwork junk, then I'm off to start some rounds. And then the Opey says, someone earlier also mentioned that I might want a friend to come out on patrol with me. I'm going to call a buddy of mine and see if I can have him come out for a bit as well.

The place I'm going to tonight is a bit more remote, so I shouldn't be as scrutinized on post if something did happen. And then someone says, good idea. And then the OP goes radio silent for about four hours or three or four hours and then says, been on post with a friend all night and taking mostly video. Shit's been ridiculous. I'm going to try and Skype some of you now and give the lowdown on events. Also, we've been led to a place not far from my post and I'm about to head in.

The cops has been no help at all tonight. And then someone says, what do you mean lead? He lured you there or you followed? And then the O.P. says, Tonight has been ridiculous. Most of the night I have been out of service, actually. So much for Skype company. So forgive my lack of updates.

A friend of mine did come out on post and patrol with me tonight. He's here with me now as we go over stuff. Tonight we mainly tried to capture video footage and things. Not nearly as many photos were shot, but we did get almost three hours of video work at the places. After we called the cops and had them come out the first time, this dude left us a note on my car that my buddy found. The notes had direction to a place essentially adjacent with my posting tonight.

The only part was you could only get there either going through the woods or a very short driveway. And in retrospect, like idiots, we went. Oh boy, I'm very interested to see where this goes. And then someone says, Iowa? And then the Opie says, no, not Iowa, but I prefer not to disclose my location very much, at least not yet. I'll tell you all that it's in the southern United States though. Honestly, it's just that. I'm already being stalked by one person.

I'd prefer to keep that number as low as possible. If you all can respect that notion. Also, I got some shots at the cops involved with us tonight. In case you all really thought I was just bluffing about that, I'm pretty serious about the things going down right now. And then he posts a picture of the cop car. Just as sheriff, you know, at night, another low-quality picture. But at least, you know, this is proof the cops are there.

And then someone says, although it sounds like a lot of work for no payoff, this thread kind of smells like, hey, dude, stand over in the shadows and oppose the pics on the internet to spook some dumb kids. Decent effort, if so. Good luck out there if not. And then the OPR responds to that comment saying, honestly, I wish it was just that. Though involving the police on these subjects seems like a whole lot of effort for that, yeah?

And I would agree with him. I mean, sure, he could be lying. And I guess it's the cop here he took a picture of. but um yeah very interesting and then some people say to timestamp the picture to say it's legit and the opi then says it's not happening this second i just said that i was already off post for the night this happened a bit ago i'm not even currently on post anymore my super relieved me of post a while ago i'm at home now posting for my pc the stuff from tonight mostly trying to figure out where and how to best upload the video footage we took and then the opi and some commenters discussed the

post limits and some other stuff that's not worth renounce but someone asked something interesting saying could you possibly get the videos up on youtube in post links here and then the opi says i made a channel and started upload i've only got the first one up so far and so let's take a look at the video Fucking AT&T. It sucks dicks on your service anywhere like anywhere like especially fucking work like when I'm in work Nobody's talking to me Place is creepy as shit See my breath fucking everywhere See anything? Dude, dude, dude, no, no no look look right on

Shut the fuck up Shut the fuck up Hey, hey Dude, there's nobody fucking here. Dude, there's nobody fucking here. There's nobody fucking here. There's nobody fucking here. I just I just took that picture Hey, asshole. It's just not funny. Wow.

Isn't that video chilling? That is genuinely the scariest video ever. I mean, okay, so these guys are walking up to the area where they think this guy is. And they stop in the dark and take a flash photo of him. And the photo is a still of him. And the still is, oh my God, terrifying. The still is up on screen now. that is what they caught.

And so that guy was lurking in the woods in the dark with these guys. Oh my God. This guy is just standing out there with this guy. Oh my God. It's so scary. And then they start kind of trying to confront the guy being like, hey, asshole, get out of here, which makes sense. And I guess he just ran away because they took the photo. They got this still.

And they kind of freaked out a bit. And the guy just dipped. I mean, I don't know how he got out. fast but so scary and like this kind of disproves a lot of the you know people saying it's fake like this guy's uploading videos everything and also this video only has a thousand views that means like this story is completely underground but um in the description of the video it says video footage from night three of being stalked by somebody we finally get a good still of him but he's gone when we rushed up there and then someone asks do you have the picture you took when you saw the guy

And the OP says, oh yeah, of course. I thought I posted it here, but I'm a full R word. And yeah, you guys have already seen this, but look at this still. This guy is just standing there in the woods staring at these two guys, like just talking these guys. Like, why is he doing it? He's still wearing the black shirt. In my opinion, the guy's hair looks different.

It looks less gray. It looks less thin. It definitely could be the guy, but I don't know. but like genuine full body goosebumps when I saw this so so scary and this is genuinely the best thread I've ever gotten into I mean the opi is he's he out there with this guy but yeah they reached the thread limit and so they go to a new thread let's get into that and also before we actually get into that I will be including his YouTube channel in the description so if you want to check out every single video you can I probably won't include them all in this video because

All of them aren't relevant directly to the story. So, yeah, check them out. There's like 20 plus stories on there. And it's a very underground channel. I mean, there's no views on any of the videos. Like, this story has just barely been covered at all. So, yeah, this is, and it's literally like one of my favorite stories I've ever covered so far. And, yeah, let's keep going.

The OP says, opening new thread for the continuation of discovering evidence of the scrutinizing of said current events by X. I appreciate all of your efforts thus far. The OP says previous threat asked about his head or whatever. When the picture flash went off and I saw him with my own eyes for a moment, he looked pretty normal. But my eyes were not angled exactly as the camera is. Also the foot. I didn't even notice that until literally right now, when I just zoomed in to look at it hard, I have absolutely no idea what that's all about, man.

Maybe he's wearing clown shoes? And then someone says, his head is normal. That's just his neck showing. His head looks tilted back a little. The foot thing is strange though, and I agree. Someone else says, looks weird though. I must say I kind of just skimmed through some parts of the thread since I just got into here. So sorry if you already said that, but did he ever say something to you?

Or answer when he shouted for him, as you did in the video? Like anything else except for stalking you? And also they said, possible, but then again, I don't think escaping you was such big shoes would be that easy. I don't get where he could have went. You're right there. And then the OP replies to this saying, We got a total amount of jack shit tonight for his voice. Also, eerily, there was far less auditory stuff going on than usual.

Although it could be simply that I just didn't hear it over constant banter with my buddy. Not too sure on that. We took the audio recorder but never got to using it. Perhaps the next night? Yeah, sorry about that. I made that other one the night before, but I felt like another fresh start would be best. And then someone says, that's fine. and yeah, audio might work better with less noise.

And then some people start to get suspicious. Someone says, Hey, O.P., how about showing us something that proves your security guard? Like your uniform? Because right now, I believe you're just a neck beard running around with your neck beard friend trying to create some spooops. Someone else says, I'm starting to feel this way as well. Something smells here.

So what's to be seen in the snooping-whooping video? I don't see shit. And then someone else says, I haven't read much of the last thread, but I'll try to logically explain what I see in the OPE's pick. I'm no expert or anything, so feel free to criticize. Blue line, where his shoulder and arms appear to be. Red line, where his shoulders and arms actually are. White arrow.

The pale patch is more blurred than the rest of the head and almost the same color as he branches, so is most likely part of the tree that got in the way. As for the shoes, it might be some rubbish or something laying in the undergrowth. Like I said, I'm not. expert but that's what i can see logically in opi's pick i haven't read the story behind this so if someone can give me a quick rundown that would be great and i mean i don't really know how you can't see the guy but yeah he's pretty obviously right there and um god that picture is so so eerie and then the opi responds to the person trying to debunk him and saying like oh well i don't even know your security guard

and the op posted a picture of him with an incident log in his hands and he says pretty much all they feel comfortable sharing. I don't blame them. And then someone says, from these spoof videos on YouTube, it feels like it's just some kid fucking around. Someone else says, and OP delivers again. This is one of the best threads with evidence we've had in ages. Who cares if it turns out to be role play? It's been good, although it's at OP's expense.

Someone else says, just read the last thread. Holy shit. Regarding the picture in OP, why didn't you go talk to him in that very moment? Or is it a zoomed in part of a bigger picture? Godspeed OP, stay safe and keep us posted, please. I obviously understand you want to keep it private, but, if needed, 4chan has helped people in the past, just a reminder if shit hits the fan. And then the OPE responds to these saying, I'm really frazzled and just being stupid.

I didn't think anyone would really read those things. Most of the descriptions and tags, me and my buddy just came up with for shits and gigs. I assure you, that was me. And yes, it was dumb, but in light of all these things, a couple funny jokes, to us was a mood lifting after a terror night. I'll be more professional in the future, I suppose. And then the Opie also says, we tried to get him. We got this photo of him while we are filming close to there. And as soon as I snapped this shot and saw him, I freaked a bit. My buddy ran over to see what I had got. And then right after, we literally did sprint right up to where he had just been in

the photo. He was gone. Completely. No noise. No trees rustling. Just gone. And then someone says, okay, if that is indeed you, mind telling us while you're blind as shit? How about the fact that you can't operate a flashlight? Someone else says, you know that thing in the movies when someone is being chased? Then they runaways and suddenly crouch down and hide. He's got to be doing something like that. And then someone else says, sorry if I came off as angry.

I'm genuinely interested by your experiences. I reread the first thread. Is this how it went down? And then he kind of gives a rundown. Also, are you working right now? now or what? And then the OP response to these saying, that's my best guest too, pretty much. The cops came out and hit it with their super mag lights and they got fucking nothing. In the video tonight, my friend was actually operating the flashlight, and he's definitely

blind as shit. I'm supposed to wear glasses as well, but don't. Also, I never went to flashlight school like I should have, apparently. Also, most of these places are truly beyond dark. The Tina maglight provides next to no help, especially when things are happening in real time in just a peripheral context. And then the O.P responds to some other ones that aren't that important. But then someone says, I watched all the vids. What's up with the 8th, though? And so let's get into the 8th video.

And it is pretty spooky. All right. Another update. I guess I'm really getting much done here, so I'm getting ready to leave. Shit, Jesus. Fucking Christ. There's another one. Dude, someone has to be.

here yeah leave a knife in the car and yeah in the eighth video you can hear something honestly just messing with the opi or the person messing with the opi uh the opes description was final video of the night that was lost but really

was just taken with my iPod i.e i'm an r word and didn't look earlier enjoy cobiose banging noises and so yeah i guess this guy was just banging on a dumpster or something trying to mess with them and um the opi responds to this question saying i don't know We got the F out of that place fast.

We don't want to be there. It was absolutely no lights, a dumpster graveyard essentially. It was very maze-like. Literally was the perfect place for someone like him to take us. We only stayed in for that little bit and got the F out of there. Called the cops again afterwards, they took our statements, asked us if we owned the property, we told them we did not. So then they basically issued us a trespassing warning.

Also, they took the knife for evidence in my case that is steadily building. They also had me send some of the photos. of the dude to them. And then someone asked, what are you going to do next? And the OP says, sit rep right now as incident report

has been filed. Police reports have been filed. They told me they're going to scrub the knife or prints. Mine are on file as a security guard and they will call my buddy if they need his. Hopefully the dude gets caught.

I decided to go on post tonight, but Lieutenant is going to call me a little later and tell me where. They don't want me going on any post that have had anything at all happened to me on, just in case, which pretty much

removes all the posts I've been to for the week. So they got to find something that's available meeting the criteria. Good chance they call back to tell me I'm off though. And then someone comments kind of a joke saying, give us a two subscriber YouTube special spoof. And then the OP says, Would if I could?

Maybe if I get more today slash tonight. And then he says, fuck all that. I lied. There was a time prior to all the other videos we thought we saw this guy from pretty far back on patrol. Shot a lot of burst. we got him obviously walking out from a corner and right back behind it we thought we saw something

and heard some shit so we ran over there immediately afterwards but like always inspection revealed a lot of nothing i didn't upload the video before because well it honestly looks like we're just running a lot of all but now with the picture supporting it i feel much better and he attaches a picture and look how terrifying this is in the burst shot you can see um a man in the distance between those two pillars watching the opi and his friend and then he says the video of us running after that is up on youtube as well and then he also says thought this one from the burst was creepy too and yeah this one's a much more clear picture of the guy standing and staring directly at the opi and his friend and oh my gosh these pictures just give me goosebumps they're so scary and disturbing

and then someone says he looks like straight out of a horror movie looks like a white mask or something and i disagree I think he's just a white guy. And then the picture and the flash kind of just makes him look more white. I don't think he has a mask on or anything. But it's still creepy, regardless if he has a mask on or not. And then someone says,

a kind of a theory saying, obviously a robber who tries to find an opening so he can steal some shit. Nothing to see here. And then someone replies to that saying, obviously not, since he wouldn't stalk and spook O.P. And then someone else says,

robbers generally don't stock people for over a week, you derp. And then the O.P. says, if he's looking to rob me, he is sorely mistaken. He can have all $130 I have left after bills if it keeps him from stocking me. And then someone says, is this an ARG? And then the O.P. kind of jokes saying, not that I'm aware of. If so, filling me in would be great. And then someone says, O.P., what are you doing right now? And then the O.P. says, sitting down and probably going to try and solidify this into a blog. Post links to this archive and YouTube or something. And then the O.P. and some commenters kind of talked for a few hours. None of it was any importance, I guess. They were just kind of, you know, inviting new commenters because I think after the first thread, the second thread really blew up because people were like, oh my God, what's going

on? And so this one has a lot more commenters. So in all honesty, it was really hard to sift through all these comments. And I could have read a decent amount of it, but most of it was just kind of repeating what we already know, since the O.P. was kind of given the rundown to new commenters and new people in the thread and being like, oh, well, this happened and that happened and people speculating. None of it was really that important. But then the opi tells us he is going to bed. I'm going to bed now, going to leave the recorder rolling and stuff. I'll start posting again as soon as I wake up because remember the opi was like, I'm going to record or put a recorder in my bedroom so I can hear if anyone messes with me. He did that. And he updates us about eight hours later.

and what we find out is truly terrifying. The OP wakes up the next morning and says he was in my house. He filmed me on my own camera. Oh, my fucking fuck. My face is in the shop and I'm going to upload video anyways. Oh, fuck. And the OP then posts the video to his YouTube channel

and oh my God, is it terrifying? Here's the video. commit and yeah this guy entered the opi's home and filmed him on his own camera while he was sleeping and i guess the the guy walked into his house picked up the recording got the sound recorder and played it somehow i don't know how the op he didn't wake up but still he played it then he kind of looked at the ground and then um yeah sat down the camera went black you can kind of hear him shuffling around, but goosebumps ever, like I'm terrified.

The OPE's video is titled, oh my shit. And the description reads, In my house, I don't even want to think about this, calling the cops. And, yeah, how insane is that? This guy enters the Opie's house and films him while he's sleeping. And then some people in the thread said,

Opie lives. Oh my God, must see. Not for long. And then the Opie says, I'm calling the cops. I'm going to be late for work. And then someone says, O.P. is definitely kill. Call police, get weapon, pray to the son that you'll live.

And then the OPE says, he talked to the Skype chat. He used my PC to add himself to the chat and talked. He also probably read this whole thread. I have no idea how long he was here for. And then the OPE says, police are here. Be back as soon as I can.

And then everyone in the thread is kind of freaking out being like, oh my God, I can't believe this. And yeah, I would do if I witness this life. But yeah, crazy. And then someone says, how did he get in? Someone else says, is it possible for O.P.? After he's done dealing with the cops or someone that was in the Skype chat to post the logs of what this guy typed into the chat? And then someone else says, what's so otherworldly about this video?

Really creepy, but it's doable for a man. O.P. said before this guy has fucked around with his windows. Presumably he entered through them, I guess. Someone else says with the knife incident and whatnot, it's also apparent that he can get through locks. Someone else says this. If I were OP, I'd send the cops inside and have them search the house. I agree with this guy. And then someone says, he says they're in already.

And then someone else says, my question is, why does he erase OP sound recordings while simultaneously providing more proof he exists? Good question. And then the OP response to some of these saying, my window wasn't broken. It was cracked about three inches. Not sure if my car was unlocked and then he locked it back up upon leaving, though. I'm getting copies of all my files for the police. Gonna take some time. Telling work that I'm being questioned.

Won't be in on time. And then the OPE says, Put all of my stuff on a thumb drive. I'm not supposed to share any more of those old files with anyone, as now they are part of an ongoing criminal investigation. Any further evidence will have to be entered into the evidence as well eventually, having those same restrictions placed on it, as I cannot withhold evidence,

from a criminal investigation. Even though I'm the plaintiff. Well, I was before this obviously became a criminal felony. So anything I post will probably only post once from now on or not at all. I'm not sure anymore. And then he also says, I'm not going into work tonight. I'm going to the hotel. Someone else says, if he found you at work and he made it inside your house,

what will stop him at the hotel? For God's sakes, man, he was probably still nearby watching your house when the police arrived. Someone else says, in the video, what does he do with his hand reaching for the recorder? It looks like all his fingers is joint and he cracks them back into place. Can even hear the crack. And then the OPE responds to these comments saying, I mean, I'm going to the hotel where I first saw him to talk to the staff. And then someone says, maybe he was simply cracking them.

I agree with that. It's nothing otherworldly. And then someone says, you can carry a gun with you since you're not at work, right? Go no country for old men on his ass. Shotgun aimed at door all night. cover windows fortify that bitch and then the thread kind of reaches its limit and the opi says the bump limit is reached i'm making a new thread so this can stay relevant while i do this stuff tonight and then they create the new thread and honestly everyone at this point is very shaken

everyone's kind of theorizing what's going to happen the op is leaving sporadic updates so i'll try my best to include a lot of it and a lot of the banter um a lot of it isn't relevant but i think it really sets the scene on how shaking everybody is And then some people say, I don't know, after the last video stalker seems like a very skilled and scary, but otherwise ordinary human. I doubt he'd go around the country killing hundreds of random people. But if that happens, hey, hell of a story to tell him hell. Someone else says, I called it in the last thread. I predict that OP will be killed.

And that as the one who spoke to prophecy, I will be next to be kill. And then the Opie says, I'm going to leave for the hotel now. A friend is offered I stay in their home instead of my own. They are out of town but have dogs and stuff, so I'll probably take them up on that. And then someone says, stalker's next target confirmed. O.P.'s buddy. Rip O.P. Rip Aanon.

And then someone else says, so is there any way we would be able to find out what this guy typed in the Skype chat while he was in your house? Or is that also considered police evidence now? Someone else says, if he wanted O.P. dead, he would be. He watched him sleep. And then they kind of banter on for an hour. none of it was really that important, but they kind of just banter about what he should do and telling the OP kind of how to stay safe for their theories. And then the OP says, yeah, probably a good bet not to trust anyone. I didn't even know about these trip things existed though. Thanks for letting

me know, guys. And then someone says, O.P, please arm yourself. This is already on the level of danger for your life. And then the OPE responds to this saying, I don't own a gun, but I do have some blades. Not sure how effective, though. And then someone replies to that saying, Keep the blades on you, man, at all times. It doesn't matter if your job demands it when your life is in very real potential danger. It's better than having nothing at all. And then the O.P. goes missing for about an hour and then comes back, saying,

picked up buddies at Walmart, thinking of getting a better flashlight, but only have 45 bucks to Wednesday. I think we're going to go back to some of my recent post tonight, though. Maybe we miss something there. And then someone comments saying WTF is going on in this thread. I watched some of the YouTube videos and it's like shit budget no 5 version of ghost adventures.

Can somebody give me a too long, didn't read version? And the OPE responds to this saying, that's because there's literally no budget for this. It's all shot on a camera phone and I'm positive there's no ghost. And then someone says a rather politically incorrect comment saying

my guess is that a click of people have made this shitty YouTube videos and then post this garbage here and then talk amongst themselves how cool they are and how stupid everyone else is on X. So this guy's trying to dismiss O.P. And the O.P. then says, actually, I only even made videos on YouTube stuff because I was asked by the people here. I'm perfectly fine without posting any more photos or videos really. Honestly, as soon as this place is not a boon for me, getting evidence, I will probably be gone. And then someone says, no, don't. This is actually really interesting O.P. Any updates, by the way?

And then the OP says, the sit rep on this is that I've picked up two friends. We've decided to stay at my own place tonight. I felt more comfortable fortifying my own home than my out-of-town friend's place, or involving the children of my other buddy at his house. And currently, we just got back from Walmart, and we are considering whether or not to go out to some of the recent post and look to see if we miss anything. I figure more pairs of eyes are better than just my blind ones.

But one buddy feels we just stay here and just safe. the place, which I'm all for as well. Also, I apologize I've been keeping mostly updated on Skype as the notifications are easier to see and such, etc. And then someone says, hey, O.P, why not just install like a surveillance cam using your phone and shit? But either way, looks like you have the element of surprise. And then another commenter says, if you and your buddies have these stones to do so, go out and check. Now that you have people who you can rely on if things get even slightly Dicey. Though, if you want to think rationally, he's probably waiting for you at work. He expects you to be in tonight. But if you want to consider the facts, he's already gone inside of your house.

He's typed on the computer, which I'm still hoping to get logs of. He may be loitering somewhere in the area. If I were you, I'd start setting up with the buddies. One of you should definitely be on guard, possibly alternate between the three so that one of you can get some sleep when it begins to set in, barricades and all of that. Someone else says, you should take shifts keeping washed during the night with your buddies and make sure everyone has a blade. Someone else says, also, this guy seems to be getting quite cocky, sneaking into your home while you sleep.

You should try and take advantage of that. I agree. And then the OPE response to a few of these saying, I'm not exactly sure how to set something like that up. Also, I need to go buy some pepper jars and he was referring to the camera phone comment. Another comment he replied to is, I'd be fine with you getting the logs. You can also join the Skype chat.

My Skype name is blank. If you want to be added and I can hopefully send chat logs. I don't know how to really take advantage of that, though. If you got input on making a trap, I'm willing to listen. He also says, I only woke up a few hours ago. As per routine, I probably won't be asleep until tomorrow afternoon. And then he also says, it's possible, I suppose, but I don't know anything about Iceland and his Skype contact info had no correlation.

I could make. Someone else says he mentioned it B before so I don't think he's the F Lord that has a S attraction to O.P. Someone else says O.P. Stay alive and keep us posted. Also to the guy nonbelievers, this is real. Otherwise, how would O.P. not be in jail for falsely calling police? That's actually great points. And someone agrees saying definitely a good point. I don't think one would call the police for the sake of a story and risk getting in fat trouble. unless they're stupid as hell. And OP doesn't strike me as the stupid type. Someone else says,

chances are this guy has your schedule down packed, which means he's expecting you at work tonight. Once he realizes you aren't there, he'll begin to suspect that you're up to something. I'll do my best to help you out, O.P., but I need to think this through. Someone else says, So, why haven't you bought a used shotgun by now?

He has gone in your house or not. And then the O.P. responds to this saying, the best reason I haven't bought a shotgun is because I don't even have enough money to buy a good flashlight. So that should explain something. I keep telling people that about all I have is blades. And then the O.P. adds on to that saying, but seriously, I have less than $45 on me after I just bought milk and luncheables at the store. And then someone says, go sell something with value which you don't need right now. Shotguns ain't that expensive. Should find one used around $100 to $200 and a couple bucks for shells.

And then someone says, maybe we should set up OP a fund for flashlighting other items, either that or quit complaining. And then the OP says, as appreciated as that all is, I don't want any kind of money or anything from anyone. And $1,200 is like a lot of scratch for me after paying bills. And then someone says, those shit are expensive though for what they are, referring to the lungables. And the OPE responds to that saying, nah man, Walmart has them $1 per lungeable right now. I got six. In all seriousness, though, we were about to head out to the first place, the construction yard of the truck lot and look around there, see if anything comes up. And then the thread kind of went quiet for a while, until the OP gave us an update,

saying, all right, we went around and did some work over the truck lot, got some shots of stuff, but nothing seemed to be really there of any of it. Also, the general noisiness of most nights wasn't present, didn't have the feeling the stalker was with us at all. Maybe he really is lying low. Someone else says, all right, stay strong man. I would lose my shit entirely if this stuff happened to me. You're a brave man. And then the opi response saying, Also, I openly challenge anyone who is the stalker to post my current city as a way of proving if they ever do come here. Though something about the way he interacts and suggests he would be posting for really anyone but myself maybe. Someone else says, have you ever considered it

may be more than one person op? I mean, the possibility is really low, but still. And then the O.P responds to that saying, we've considered it in the Skype chat. Hell, we've considered almost every angle. I really do appreciate the ones in there that have been helping me try and figure all this out in offering me insight that I could not have thought of by myself. And then the Opie says, A comment on my YouTube has put the idea out there that perhaps the person with me in the videos last night was in fact my Woodsy stalker.

I will take a photo of all three people here tonight to prove that is not true. And then he takes a picture of him and his friends, I guess, to prove that none of his friends are the stalker. And I agree. None of them look like the guy pictured in the previous pictures. These guys are much shorter, it seems, skinnier than the stalker guy and less broad. And they say, none of us are nearly six foot four. None of us really matches broadness. Only one of us has matching hair color.

And that guy wasn't even with us at all last night. And, yeah, that's good proof by the OP. I do agree. None of these people look like the stalker. And then some people in the comments make fun of him saying, Name our band, X. Sorry, I couldn't resist. And then someone else says, I take it you're the thin one. Also, have he heard this guy talk at all? I watch your recent video on mute because I'm a poohy.

That was so, man. How he cracks his hand. And then the OPA response to these saying, he talks. He says, commit or something in the video. And then he says, ha, ha, ha. We literally said, wow, we literally said, wow. It looks like super gay boy band threesome before posting. Post it anyways. Who, dirt face?

Nah, that's just his face. And then someone says, Jesus Christ, do you live alone? This is terrifying. And then the Opie responses is saying, Yeah, I have friends over for the night at least though. Bad part is I personally sleep in daytime because I work these graveyard shifts. So I won't be sleeping until they probably are gone and home. And then someone asks,

What I wonder is if this man is a repeat offender? When you saw him at the hotel. hell, you said he was dressed nicely. Did he smile at all? Was he monotone slash passive? Maybe this guy is in fact a criminal. Someone else says, did Opie ever get a hold of the hotel surveillance footage of when that dude was checked in? And then the Opie responded to this saying, Police took my audio recorder and a lot of prints swabs on my stuff. They should have already had the security footage by now. The cops didn't seem to know shit though. Although now in a criminal investigation, since it's escalated from me just wanted a restraining order,

all the details of the investigation are out of my hands basically. And then someone says, I was the one who made the YouTube comment. Just so you know, this doesn't really prove anything at all, but I like your dedication. And then the O.P. says, don't recall him smiling. He had inflection, was not monotone. Also, the dude's voice, commit, is unlike any of our voices.

It also proves that it's none of us in the photo. And then some people try to disprove the O.P., but the O.P is like, you can believe whatever you want. I mean, I've tried to prove. everything I can to you that I'm not the guy stalking or any of my friends with the stalkers. I mean, he definitely could have had another friend outside of those three be the stalker, but I just believe the OP. And then someone says, how are things O.P? Still with your bros?

And the O.P says, yeah, they are still here. The brown-haired ones taking a nap, though. Someone else says, anything weird going down? What did the cops say to you? And the O.P. said, the told me to turn over all my files, lock my doors, stay with some family,

ha ha, and call them if anything else happened. So it's a formal investigation then? Any word on the hotel footage or if they have a name for creepy McSocker? And then the OPE replied to that saying, I'm not the police. I doubt that I will be privy to any of their investigation achievements

until he's found and goes to stand trial. And then someone says, to backtrack real quick because I missed it. When you guys went to the place associated with the knife note in the car, what happened? What was that the location? Possible to search that location in the daylight? Also, do you have any enemies? Any crazy kids you went to school with you know of? Any jealous exes of a girl you might have dated? This guy knows way too much about you. And I take that knife note as a big challenge. And then the OPE responds to a few of these saying, I mean, just on principle,

I don't want anyone to believe that I'm here for any kind of publicity or money or anything. I certainly do appreciate the offers, though. And I mean, I realistically would probably not not decline an offer like that, but I want everyone to know that I'm not asking anyone for anything other than helping me dissect the motives and evidences against my stalker. He also says, when we got to that place in the note, we pretty much realized it was the perfect place for the stalker to be. It was absolute his element. After we heard a lot of noises, either from him personally or from him tossing rocks to us, we got out of there and called the cops. Turned out to backfire on us, because they issued us a trespassing warning since it was a gated private property, apparently.

We could possibly get to the location in daylight, from the woods perhaps, but I don't even feel comfortable going back into that property, like inside inside it. Maybe we will hike through the woods and get some daylight stills the place from up on the wood ridge here soon if I can find a way through the woods to get to the spot. Also this, I don't know how I would receive any kind of items or donations without identifying my location to anyone. And then someone asks, How far do you think the police will go searching for this guy? Considering he's a stealthy bastard, will they even find anything about him? And the O.P. responds to this saying,

I hope they go as far as he runs. Something tells me, though, this won't end as well as I hope either way. And then he also says, my home network has gone down. All my internet is off. I so says my service should be fine. Modem and router have been unchanged. No network connectivity. Shit, what?

Then how are you posting? someone else's connection and then the OP says cell phone and mobile data and then someone says check and make sure creepy guy didn't cut your line and then someone replied to that saying

I'm almost positive that's what's going on OP maybe you can send the cops there to check see if anything's messed with or if they see or hear the guy and then people continue to keep talking for about eight hours and I assume the OP goes to sleep

I don't know how he went to sleep in the same room where the guy or the stalker came into, but he went asleep and then started a new thread and he said, internet here is still down and my mobile data is low, but I'll do my best to keep talking tonight. And then someone said, did you look into the source of the outage yet? And the OPE says, I think I'll go do that right now. Is the cable usually bundled in near the electrical or do they commonly come in house separately? And then some people recommend him to follow the wire and he says, sorry, just got back inside

with people. Everything seems perfectly in order with the cable. I don't know, but the line seems fine and tension is on it. No loose parts that I can get into. And then the O.P and some commenters kind of talk for a few hours, nothing of note. Some of the commenters try to prove that the O.P has used 4chan for a long time because in the very beginning, remember when the Ops is kind of like, I haven't really used 4chan much or at all. And so some people are like, you acclimate it too quickly to it and you're using the slang to quickly and you learn the slang and the OPs, you're like I was familiar with 4chan before, but I've never really posted. And so I guess that dismisses it.

But yeah, nothing of importance until the OPE says, I'm leaving for work now, taking buddies. We'll be silent for a while as we get out there and I do some pre-lim post stuff. My silence doesn't mean I'm dead. Well, not yet at least. And then the OPE doesn't post for a while as he's driving to work. He gives some updates while he's driving, but then people are like, don't text and drive.

I'd be pissed if you'd die. while driving and then the OP gets to work and he says something chilling he says i'm here he's here i know it and then someone says what's going down dude any signs of him being present there someone else says why do you say that someone else says i'm on edge for you opi and then the opi posts saying service here is shit he's here tonight can someone enhance this image he moves through this whole bird We chased after the video and maybe got him running away. And he posts this terrifying photo of a chain link fence. And I guess he thinks the guy is behind the chain link fence.

And yeah, very scary. And then someone posts a contrasted picture of the picture of the OP sent. And yeah, to be honest, I can't see anybody behind there. But the OP seems pretty sold on the idea that the guy was behind there. And then the OP posted, not dead, almost home. posting from friends' phone, looking through the footage while driving, try and figure out what we all saw tonight. And then he says, I'll be starting to upload things here shortly.

And then someone says, glad to know you're okay, O.P. Have been following your threads with great interest and concern. Stay safe and good luck. P.S. If this is RP, then thanks for the spooks. But I'm more inclined to be hella worried about a complete stranger on the wrong side of the pond. Feels weird, man. And then the O.P gives us some major updates.

in the post reasons follows. The night started off kind of dull. Got out to post and checked around first property. Not really much to see, but we kept recording for most of the night, just in case anything did happen. Second spot, pretty much same stuff went down. Third place, we dicked around a bit, as nothing had really happened. We decided to leave that place, but we had to go back to the trail and back up a large bluff.

Well, we heard some shit, and up on the bluff was stalker fucker. We got a burst of him, and he stayed fuck-all still. and he even let my buddy run up to the bluff some and get a good zoom shot on him. I mean, it's so zoomed and detailed, it's ridiculous. Also, he's holding some shit, but we don't know what it was. After that, we tried to chase him down, but with the cliff between us, he easily got away. We saw him again, though, driving away from that place. He walked right out past our car on the dirt road.

My buddy, who was driving pretty much shit himself and sped the fuck away. I didn't even see the guy until we did a video playback on it. After that, we heard some more shit in the park proper, and eventually we caught him again on one of our paths, almost waiting for us. We took after him, but he darted into the woods. Never saw him again tonight after that, going to give the cops this shit after I upload it. And then the OPE attaches a picture on there, and you can barely see the guy standing out there in the dark. So scary, you can barely see his head and just the figure of his body, but he's literally just creeping out there. I mean, literally is just the creepiest threat I've ever read.

And then someone comments saying, OP about to deliver again. Oh, shit. And then the OP attaches another picture saying second shot in the burst where we know he's actually above us. And then he attaches the picture. And in this one, I can't really see anything, but I assume the guy's there. And then the third shot and the OPA attaches a picture. And you can kind of see his face in the distance, I think. But not as clear as the first shot.

someone says good job opi make the hunter become the hunted and then the opi attaches another picture saying derp and um in this one i think you can barely see him in the distance super low quality picture but um maybe that's him and then the opi says last relevant one in the burst before buddy takes off up to bluff with the camera and he attaches another picture and in this one i honestly just can't see anything and then the opi attaches another photo saying buddy gets this at max zoom right in on the guy but the way of the bluff was just impossible by the time we got up he was vanished and this is the clearest photo we have of the guy max zoom you can see he has a red vest or red shirt underneath a black suit and this is a very very obvious photo of the stalker

this is the clearest photo we have very very creepy someone says jesus christ that's terrifying move far far away from this place and hope he doesn't find you. That's my only advice. This guy is not out for anything good. And he's obviously playing some sort of sick cat and mouse game. Stay safe, O.P. borrow a gun or some sort of weapon from a friend. And then the O.P. says, there are videos before and after this. And flipping them all, and will upload ASAP. Someone else says, I know it's because of the Zoom, but his eyes just look soulless because this guy needed to be any creepier. And then someone else says, well, holy fuck, it's Ninja McSalker himself. Show this at the kind of.

pops op it's a great shot of him compared to what you've had before you better hope this is an rp for real or your buddy there might get jumped i do believe you so far but just saying and then the opi says it's like he didn't care that we got the shot of him because it's somewhere we cannot reach he barely if at all even moved in between the burst and running to a vantage point on him but later on when we are at the same level ground with him he sure did walk away while we chased him down and then someone else posts a picture that the op he got and you can barely see the guy on the distance. So, so scary. And then the opi says Skype chat is saying it almost looks like he has a kookery.

And then someone else says, weird question, but could you actually see him running? You say he was walking away while you guys chased him. Surely if he was walking, you could have caught up to him running. Or is he just a ninja? And then someone else says, he's getting more brazen. Be very, very cautious the next time he see him. Again, did you get pepper spray or mace? Hell, even an airsoft gun.

While off duty, of course, might be useful. Of course, I wouldn't hit him with anything unless he gets right up in your face, lest he decided he needed a weapon to retaliate with. And then someone responds to the kukri comment, the O.P. said, and they said, definitely not a kukri. The blade in his hand looks like it curves towards him rather than away from him. And then someone else says, dude looks like Stanley Kubrick. From now on, I'm referring to him as Stan.

Someone else says, Where did he leave his fedora? Someone else says, The pick is so blurry is hard to say. I thought it was a newspaper at first, but on closer inspection, it seems to be the right shape for one. I don't know.

Someone else says, his whole body, that white blotch at the top of his face, hands and pocket just standing there, you can just barely see his wrist peeking out of them. Someone else says, sounds like he's getting more bold

or he's getting ready to do something more confrontational. Stanley McSalker. That works. Someone else says, I initially thought the same thing, but that he may simply be holding the blade the opposite way. And then the OPE says, again, as soon as I can flip these videos,

you guys will see him more. And then someone asks, any similarities between the alleged knife he's holding and the one you found in the car? And the O.P. says, not at all. The knife in my car was a black, presumably military utility knife. It had a saw edge on the back of the blade,

but it was old and a bit rusted. Wasn't very sharp either. This one looks like, I don't know what it looks like. And then the thread kind of goes dead for a whole day. I assume the O.P. went to sleep or he was busy doing something else. And then on a new thread, some guy named Toaster Steve links a Imger gallery of photo bursts. I assume this is one of the OPE's friends.

And in this photo burst, we can see the guy out in the distance. And yeah, terrifying. You can see the guy kind of peek over. the uh or past the tree and i mean there's like a hundred images and so i'll include a few of them here but you can literally see the guy hidden and then peek out and then go back in so so scary like this guy is acting almost animalistic the way he's just stalking the opi and his friends it is truly beyond terrifying and then the opi doesn't come back for a few more hours but somebody from the Skype group chat made a comment on the post saying just update for everyone

O.P. is in route home from work. Had left earlier due to an encounter with Stan in which a note was dropped from a six-floor building uncertain at the moment. Police have been notified. O.P. alive for now. And here is a video that goes along with this. All right.

We are in the garage. Again. Nothing's going on. I'm telling you dude. I don't know. Guy kinda gave up or something. I mean, you could hope he gave up, I guess, I don't really know. Is that all that?

What don't? Up there. Up there. No way. No way. Do you want to go up? What is this? What is this?

Go. Go. Go. Just see. You can go. No, fuck. And it was two videos, but those were the last two videos ever uploaded to the Lightbringer YouTube channel. And apparently the stalker dropped a note on them when they were in the hotel.

You can see the stalker briefly walk away from the edge of the balcony or railing or whatever. And the guys tried to chase him up there and take the elevator up and they assumed the guy took the stairs down. And this guy just keeps getting away with it. And they read the note and it's kind of hard to decipher what was on the note. but anyways, let's continue. Someone tries to disprove OP by saying, I followed this thread from day one. Nice try OP, but you ruined it with the stalker taking video view with your phone.

Be more subtle next time. And the O.P responds to this saying, don't worry about the evidence then. Not a big deal. Don't mind the exit data either. Just hear calling cops to make false statements to go to jail, obviously. And then he attaches a photo of himself, writing down, I guess, just filling out whatever,

paper the cops want him to. And that's true. It is illegal to make false statements and go through all of this with the police if he wasn't telling the truth. So this is good evidence by the O.P. In my opinion. And then some other people tried to disprove him, but a lot of people try to defend the O.P. being like, what else can he even post without completely doxing himself, which I agree, because he's given a ton of evidence. And he's given the pictures of the police reports, giving pictures of himself talking to the police. He's given pictures of the police and many more videos and stuff. And then the OP post a picture of the note that was dropped on him. And he says, front of the eighth grade poetry notes, and I'll read it here. I'll try my best. It says,

so we blind are something most close. I'm ancient smoke or snake in chains, now left unfound, sign away things, froil and something. So you can't read that. stand so you stand something tall the national order of notion is down can't read any of the other parts cynically from high to center commit to the stall yeah I don't really get at but it's kind of some sort of cryptic poetry I mean this kind of makes me think the guy or the stocker is kind of schizo this gives off very schizo vibes or schizophrenic. And then the back of the eighth-gradeer notes,

which reads, do not drop in, walk, east sheep, something, the world eats all light and framed my death, mass,

mass blinds, wings, eat, try the uncut, model severance still, soon it says soon something again or see you again maybe and um that is insanely cryptic and weird and someone asks anything else and the opi says videos on the way some burr shots going to mjur and then someone says could someone put these into text i can't make out a few words and the opi says neither can we we don't understand half the writing so i guess i'm not alone on that one someone else says can't make

out half of that hey op you should go to bed now man The O.P. then says, only woke up a few hours ago. Normally, I'm awake till 2 p.m. tomorrow. Tonight, though, I want this note deciphered before sleep. And then someone tries to decipher it, saying, so far I can see, so we find our, blank, most close, in slash an ancient smoking chains, now left unbound. Sign away things frail and small, so you may stand blank tall. Unsure about this sentence, the natural order of nature is blank, blank, blank,

from high to center. Commit to fall. And then the OP and his Skype kind of group chat works on it for about 30 minutes, and this is what they come up with. The OP says, this is what Skype believes. I think it pretty much coincides with what we think here. Gonna just believe this is it. So we find our namesake most close. An ancient snake and chain, now left unbound.

Sign away things frail and small. So he may stand worldly tall. The natural order of nature is down. Driven cynically from high to center. Commit to the fall. Do not despair. Wolves eat sheep, but the world eats all. Light once framed my hearth, now blind.

Wings beat by the uncounted. Now severed still. Soon we'll agree. Uh, yeah, pretty damn weird. And then the O.P posts the videos, but we've already seen them. And then someone says, typing on a tablet sucks. Anyway, what did the cops say? And the OPE responded to this saying,

they told me to stay with someone else. Call them at the first side of a tablet. anything weird. Take the night off. They took the note and the handkerchief and for further evidence. I'm pretty sure this dude's got a solid case built against him now. And then some commenters try to speculate on the note. Someone says, sounds like the guy isn't wanting to hurt O.P. Just making him aware of something. Lights are now blind, could symbolize truth or innocence or happiness all gone bad. Freedom is severed based on the winds. Snakes can either be cunning or evil if the guy was brought up by Christians. The snake seems to be after something. Standing worthy tall. He expects

good things from your character. And then the OP posts a chilling update, saying one of the pictures from the burst we got him in between videos two and three. And this is a very, very clear shot of the stalker. And these pictures just give me the goosebumps every single time because they're so authentic looking. I mean, I totally believe OP at this point, but still like look at this picture. It's so liminal. And then the stalker is just in the middle looking up at O.P. and his friend. And it's so crazy because it's like he's just haunting the O.P. and his friend. Like he just gets away like that every single time.

It's like a movie almost. Like just taunting the O.P. and his friend. It's crazy. But this is just such a scary and spooky picture. And then someone says, didn't see the videos for now. But in all other ways you meet this guy, he's outside in the dark. hiding, but now he is on the way in a lighted building, and the O.P replies to this saying, first time I saw him was in hotels. Every time since then, he's really only been hidden when we can

reach him. Other than that, he doesn't seem to care if we see him or not, if we cannot approach him. And then the O.P. goes quiet for a few hours, and people are wondering if the O.P. Got murdered by the guy or anything. And some people are also like, well, maybe the police told him to not talk in the chat anymore. But the O.P. came back a few hours. later and said, a fake stand came and talked to someone in the Skype after I went in for police questioning. My shitty Wi-Fi cut off part of me telling them I was leaving. Removed blog for police. So the blog, we can't even contact anymore, so that's why I haven't included any of the blog, was bitched at for many, many hours for posting evidence that could have been crucial in

investigation in places where the defendant could most likely easily see. Haven't slept yet. Very tired. I really appreciate everyone's encouragement and such, but I'm very stressed out. I may not post any more substantial evidence for a while until this investigation is so important right now. I hope you all understand. I'm going to still be around though and it will keep everyone updated as best as I can. And of course if I can and if something happens, I'll try and document it. Hopefully I can release everything. And then that's the last we ever heard from O.P. Until someone came in a few hours later and said, O.P. has left the Skype, saying he has done with us all. His reasons cited were,

I feel like my friend was error telling me to come here. I came for help, knowing basically nothing about this place, and along the way, my serious real-life situation has become a game for you all. This was not exactly what I was expecting, not knowing anything about 4chan, really. In retrospect, I think I've realized this has all been a big mistake.

I'm stressed with a burden of proof to people I don't even know, all while evading a real-life threat. I thought that this would be helpful thing, but it's become almost as stressful as my real-life problem. I'm done here. Sorry if this ruins your fun. Lightbringer. And then the guy who posted that, posted proof that he did say that in the Skype chat.

And he also apparently PM some people singularly. I'm stressed with this. I'm living on friends' couches. Police are yelling at me. A man is stalking me and breaking into my home. And countless people here don't believe. me despite my great efforts to acquire evidence. Sorry, it's just too much. Lightbringer. And that's the last we've ever heard from O.P. So we don't know what happened to him.

What I assume happened is that the law enforcement told him to stop posting about the case online and to stop posting evidence online, which makes sense and a lot of people do agree with that theory. And other people think that the O.P may have got killed, which I don't really believe, but it's weird that, you know, 10, 15 years later, we haven't heard back from the OP. And I think it was 11 years ago this happened. So it's been a long, long time, and we probably would have heard an update by now.

So if the OP is watching this, please send me an email. I think I'm the biggest channel to ever kind of cover this story. So, yeah, if this ever reaches you, please send me an email and let me know how you're doing or how this ended up finishing out because this was genuinely the scariest story I've ever read in the best three. I've ever gotten into. This truly was so entertaining for me. Like most of the time, some

stories that kind of go on and on, but this one kept me engaged the entire time, and I hope it kept you engaged as well. I love this story so much. This truly was a masterpiece, in my opinion. The best 4chan threat I've ever read, and I fully believe the O.P. I mean, he gave evidence as often as he could. He showed the police. He showed evidence in videos and pictures, everything. And it's insane to me that some people watching or that were in the comments said that there wasn't enough evidence when, to be honest, in other 4chan threads, no one ever gives that much evidence. So big shout out to the O.P. But I hope you're well. Lightbringer. This truly was an amazing thread. And I hope you're doing all right. My girlfriend and I were chased by Satanic cult in the Appalachia Mountains of West Virginia. This happened in the summer of 2017. My girlfriend and I are from St. Cattano.

Catharines, Ontario, Canada. We both attended the university there and decided to take a road trip through the United States to celebrate our graduation. Our destination was Miami, Florida. Her family owns a condo near the beach, so we had a free place to stay. We decided to drive instead of fly because we wanted to see a bit of the country on the way down and visit a few friends. The trip usually takes about 20 to 24 hours by car non-stop. We were planning on making multiple stops. The first part of the road trip was a wonderful experience. We went shopping in Buffalo, then made our way to Pittsburgh and managed to catch a Pirates game. However, once we hit West Virginia, things changed.

It was nothing but endless wilderness and a few small towns sprinkled in between. We had plans to meet up with some friends for dinner in Charlotte, North Carolina, so we wanted to get through West Virginia ASAP. We only made stops when we absolutely had to. We ended up stopping for gas at a pretty remote spot. My girlfriend and I got out of the car. I started pumping gas and she went inside to use the washroom and pick up some snacks. My tank was about half full when I heard a voice behind me, asked.

Y'all lost? I looked behind me and I saw middle-aged white man with long, messy brown hair that reached down to his shoulders. In an unkempt beard with dashes of grays and what looked like to be dried up mucus. His clothes were torn and up and dirty and he smelled like a mixture of beer, sweat, pee and feces. He was a little overweight but pretty tall. I'm six foot and he was about four inches taller than me. The teeth he still had left were a yellowish brown. on his right cheek just under his eye, was a tattoo of some kind of pentagram.

I'm pretty into YouTube videos about true crime and cults, so I was able to recognize what it was pretty quickly. He was standing very close to my face, to the point where the smell of his breath was making me dizzy, so I backed up. No, no, sir, just passing through, I said nervously. Not too often we see terrorists passing through these parts. He responded, where are you headed?

As he said this, he moved even closer than he was before. I had my backup against my car, and I couldn't move back any further. I wanted to get away from this guy as quickly as possible, but the car was still filling up with gas, and my girlfriend was still inside the gas station. I didn't want this dude to know where we were really going, so I told him I was visiting family in Kentucky, and they were expecting us. After I said this, he cracked a weird half-smile, opening his mouth just wide enough for me to get a look at his teeth again.

I'll never forget that face. His bloodshot eyes were staring deep into my soul. out a weird and sinister laugh. How lovely, he said. I'll see you kids around. Then he walked away. I was very relieved that he walked away, but also terrified by his last remarks. I'd even see him when he pulled up to the gas station. So how did you know I wasn't alone? I figured he must have been watching my girlfriend and I when we arrived. The car was finally filled up and I saw my girlfriend walking towards the car with bags full of snacks for the road. I noticed the weird guy was still at the gas station. He was a few pumps away from us leaning up against an old red pickup truck,

but to my utter discomfort, he wasn't alone. There were two other men and one woman with him, making the group four in total. The two men were just as big as he was, but they had shaved heads. One of them was wearing a dirty white tank top, and the other had no shirt on at all. The woman was shorter about 5'5. She was very skinny with heavy backs under her eyes and long, blonde hair. They all looked like they had been living in the woods for the past 10 years. They were staring and pointing at us, talking amongst themselves. As soon as my girlfriend got to the car, I urgently told her to get in. I am usually a pretty calm guy, so when my girlfriend noticed I was kind of freaking out,

she knew something was up. We quickly entered the car, I locked the doors, and I began hauling ass out of the gas station. As we pulled around their red truck to the exit, I noticed there was another pentagram painted on the hood. I also noticed the skull of a goat or rammed. on their windshield. The four people began getting into their truck as they saw us leaving. I knew they were going to follow us as soon as we left. I explained the situation to my girlfriend as we were speeding away from the gas station. We were zooming down the road and I looked at my rear view mirror. As I expected, the red truck was right behind us. I sped up even more and they did too. I made a left, they did too.

I made a full U-turn and they did as well. My girlfriend managed to get reception and dialed 911. We gave the operator our location, and they gave us directions to the nearest police station. The operator also asked for the license plate, but the truck didn't have any. Once we were off the phone with them, my girlfriend stuck her cell phone outside of the window and started pointing to it, letting the creeps know that we called the police. They finally got the message and stopped following us. We arrived to the police station filed a report. We gave them the description of the truck and the suspects.

The investigators said they would call us if they had any more information. We were extremely shaken, but also relieved. All we wanted to do at that point was get the hell out of West Virginia. We thought we had shaken the group for good, but unfortunately, we are wrong. We decided to drive through the night to cover as much ground as possible. The area of Appalachia we were in had no streetlights, and I could only see what my headlights allowed me to see. Everything was fine until I noticed two headlights in my rearview mirror. At first, I didn't think anything of it, but I kept an eye on them.

The headlights got closer and closer until they were tailgating us. To my complete shock and horror, it was the same red truck from the gas station. These people had somehow found us again and were right behind us. It's them I yelled. My girlfriend began to freak out in dial 9-1-1. I floored the gas pedal, not even knowing what was 10 meters in front of me. All we cared about was escaping. We got a mile up the road until my girlfriend yelled, watch out.

There were three dead cows blocking the narrow road. I slammed it on the brakes. The red truck was right behind us and we couldn't go forward. We knew we fell into a trap. All of a sudden, a naked man wearing a goat mask darted from out the woods and began hitting our car with what looked like a large axe. The naked man got on the hood of our car and started making cheap noises. My girlfriend was still on the phone with 911, but all she could do was scream. The people behind us got out of the red truck and began walking toward our car.

Two of them had rifles, and one of them had a large machete. I knew what I had to do. I put the car into reverse in Florida. The naked man fell off our car. We smashed into the truck, and I managed to knock it into a ditch. After the truck was out of the way, I pulled the fastest you turned of my life, and we got out of there. The people were yelling all kinds of obscenities at us as we drove away. I drove as fast as I could, away from these people, until we finally arrived in a town,

and filed another police report. My girlfriend and I were uninjured, thankfully, but we were extremely traumatized. The car was still drivable after that, so we were able to get the fuck out of West Virginia the next morning. The entire experience made my girlfriend and I scared to do any more road trips. I still called the local police department in West Virginia once in a while to see if they have any leads on these people. But so far, they have not found anything. The fact that these people were able to find us after we went to the police station and drove far away, still scares and baffles me to this day. Who knows what kind of sick and twisted things this colt had planned if they managed to catch us.

Stay safe out there, everyone. My girlfriend went hiking. Her texts don't sound like her, and I think something is terribly wrong. Reddit, you have to help me. Please, I don't know what to do. Today, my girlfriend, Thea, decided to go hiking. I know I should have gone with her, but she always does her hikes alone because I slow her down. Usually she's only gone for two hours or so.

Now she's been gone for nearly four. I'm considering calling the police. She should have been home by now. I've tried calling her repeatedly, but she doesn't pick up. All I have is our text conversation from the day, and as I read it over and over, I feel like something is terribly off. 2.33 p.m.

Me. Seen anything cool yet? Thea. Nope, I'll send you picks when I get to the waterfall, though. 257 p.m. You're cooking dinner tonight, right? Yep, chicken pot pie. Yum, so excited.

After that interchange, we didn't exchange any text for about an hour. I whiled away the time constructing pylons in Starcraft, then around four she sent me a text. 4.6 p.m. I found the waterfall. Below this text was a selfie. Thea, standing in front of a small waterfall, smiling at the camera. Arms crossed, cap covering her wild hair. earrings, the turquoise ones I'd given her on our first anniversary, glinting in the light.

I sent a text back. You're cute. Then I stopped. Something about the photo bothered me. I stared at her smiling face, blue eyes shaded by her cap, her thick curls of black hair, brushing her shoulders. Wait. Her arms were clearly crossed. She wasn't holding the phone.

There was no way she could be. someone else had taken the photo or maybe she'd propped it up on a rock or in a tree but she couldn't have taken the photo herself i quickly shot off another text who took that photo she didn't reply to that right away so i'd left the phone on the desk and went downstairs to start prepping dinner i pushed the creeping anxiety to the back of my mind and focused on the food putting more effort than usual into cutting the onions call me paranoid but my last girlfriend cheated on me and left my heart broken knowing someone else took that photo in the fact that she hadn't responded to the text when she'd responded to the others promptly made me feel awful come on she's probably just asked some passer-by to take her photo

clunk my knife sliced through the onion hitting the cutting board with a full thump but what if when i got back upstairs 45 minutes later i was relieved to see there was a new text 4.53 p.m thinking of you i frowned first she didn't didn't answer my questions. Second, Thea doesn't usually send emojis or smileys. Gifts, sure, but not this. It was weird. Thinking of you too, did you get my last text? I'll be back by dinner time, hard emoji. Theo usually didn't send less than threes to me either. That was more me. In any case, I decided to let it go. Okay, I love you, hard emoji. I unpause StarCraft and played for a while. I was only interrupted by my phone pinging.

I picked it up. A text. 5.37 p.m. I'm on my way back. Image loading. The image popped up. It was another selfie. This time she was holding the phone.

I could see her outstretched arm in the lower part of the frame, and she was standing in a much clearer part of the forest. She must have been near the trailhead. I read the sigh of relief and began to type. Awesome. Pop-high is already in? My fingers froze. In the photo, just at the edge of the screen, there was something in the fallen leaves.

A shadow. A shadow just a few feet from her own. Cast by someone off screen. It's after six now. Dinner is cold. I've been sitting here, my heart pounding, calling Theo repeatedly. Nothing. Except for one text that came in as I was typing this up. We're going to be home late.

Sorry, I love you. Somehow. I'm sure she's. wasn't the one who sent that text. And all right, these stories are put into different parts, so now into part two of the story. Sorry, I didn't post last night, so much has happened, and I'm still trying to process everything. I guess I'll start at the beginning. Thea never returned home on Saturday night.

A lot of you told me to go look for her myself, so that's what I did. After I called the police, I headed over to the trail alone. Well, not entirely alone. I brought our little dog gazelle, thinking she might be able to pick up a scent or something. But as soon as I pulled into the parking lot, my heart dropped. There was her car. Her beat-up Honda Civic, parked crookedly under a street lamp. Thea's still here, but she wouldn't do that, not voluntarily.

It was already pretty dark outside, and we have a lot of coyotes in the area. She wouldn't be stupid enough to keep hiking past dark, would she? I tried the door to her car, locked. Shot on my phone's flashlight in the windows. She wasn't in there. Nothing looked out of place, though it was hard to tell with how messy Thea's car always is. The dread in the pit of my stomach grew. I grabbed Gazelli and headed towards a trail.

As soon as we stepped into the woods, it was even darker. What little light left was in the sky was choked out by the thick foliage. I took a second to glance at the sign to figure out which way the waterfall was. Then I continued into the forest. Thea, I called. Thia, no response. I looked at Giselle. She didn't seem to be picking up anything. I tried to call Thea again. She didn't answer. All I had was that last text staring me in the face. I'm going to be home late. Sorry. I love you. As a last ditch attempt, I sent a text back. 8.23 p.m. How late? Where are you? I've been calling you. I watched as the indicator went from sent to delivered and then.

to red. My blood ran cold. My fingers flew over the keys starting to type. Where are you? Please call me, but then I stopped. If it really wasn't Thea writing those texts, if it was someone who had her, maybe that wasn't the smartest thing. I stood there in the middle of the woods, my heart pounding as Gazelli whimpered at my feet, and then I typed. That's fine if you want to stay out late, but I'm going to bed. I love you, good night. Three little dots appeared in response. And then it popped up. No, you're not. I stared at those words. My head swimming. Huh? What does that mean? Gazelle pawed the ground a few feet away. And then another text came in. You're out here looking for me. I hear you calling my name. Why don't you come a little closer,

winky face? I grabbed Gazelle and broke into a run over the thick roots and large stones. The train sloped up, down. Out of breath, I stopped, shining the flashlight in a circle around myself. Thia! I screamed. Strain in my ears for something. Anything that might sound like her. A rustle. A footstep. A sound. Anything. But there was nothing. I pulled out my phone and sent another text. Where is Thia? And then finally I did hear a sound. Pab-p-p-p-p-p-p-ping. That strange little tone. the one I'd heard all over the house for the past two years whenever Theo got a text or an email, it was Thea's phone.

Right out there, somewhere in the darkness. I blindly ran towards the sound. But as soon as I stepped off the trail, the terrain changed. A deep slope, a carpet of dry leaves. I hadn't gotten ten steps when I stepped on the uneven surface of a jagged rock. My ankle buckled. I lost my balance.

I careened into the darkness. Thud. Then a rustling sound off to my left, the snap of a branch. I pulled myself up as fast as I possibly could. Pain shot up my ankle, but I continued blindly forward, waving my phone every which way. White light flashed across gnarled trunks, yellowed leaves. Gazelle barked at me from the trail, but I didn't see anything.

I sent Thea another text. Tell me. And then I listened, and there was no puppa-p-p-p-ping. No footsteps, no rustling, nothing, just silence, punctuated by Gazelli's barks. The police arrived soon after that, I told them everything, I showed them the text, showed them where I'd heard the cell phone. They didn't find her, but they did find something in the parking lot that I'd missed. A turquoise earring. I didn't sleep on Saturday night.

I drove around town for hours looking for anything suspicious, asking late-night partygoers if they'd seen anything. I called the police repeatedly checking in on their search. Nothing. And then when the sun broke over the treetops, my phone pinged. To my surprise, it was Thea. 6.42 a.m. Thia. I'll see you soon.

Image loading. A selfie popped up, but this one wasn't like the others. The photo was dark and grainy. The forest was all grays and shadows, maybe taken just after sunset. or just before dawn. And there, leaning against the tree was Thea, arms hanging at her sides, hair wild, her cap pulled so far down, her eyes were completely hidden in shadow. Just looking at it made me feel like throwing up. I sent the photo to the police immediately, but they haven't been able to do anything with it yet.

I thought they had some technology where they can pinpoint the location of a cell phone, but either they haven't been able to do it or they don't want to tell me what they found. There's one thing I haven't told the police. Tonight I got one final text from her. After nearly 48 hours without Thea, after my fruitless search in the forest, after everything the police had done, this is all I have.

One final text. 12.01 a.m. Thea. Are you going to come find me? I think maybe it's time to return to the woods. Part 3. You guys pointed out that going into the woods was a bad idea. You're absolutely right. When I wrote that, I'd had maybe two hours of sleep and about five cups of coffee I wasn't thinking clearly. That text was a trap sent by whoever took Thea.

I handed everything over to the police, even the final text. They were able to find out where the cell tower the phone was pinging off of, but unfortunately, the area encompassed most of the park. I organized a small search party to go around town and search. We all posted all over social media. Everything came up empty. Wednesday rolled around with no text, no leads, no word from the police, and then Thursday, each hour that went by without hearing anything, I got a little less hopeful. Several times I forced myself to look at these three photos she sent me, to look for clues,

but they only made me feel sick. And then Friday happened. I'd started the day as usual, checked in on the social media. groups looking to see if anyone found anything out. I made some coffee and was about to call the police to see if there were any updates. And then my phone rang. When I saw the caller ID, I couldn't believe it. Thia. I snatched the phone and immediately picked it up. Thia? I asked my heart pounding in my chest. Silence on the other line. Thia, tell. Tell me where you are, please. silence

if this is who took Thea please I'll do anything don't hurt her I'll pay ransom I'll do whatever you want just please don't hurt her no one spoke but I did hear something now a faint crackling sound static the wind blowing through the speakers

please say something my heart pounded my leg shook I glanced around the kitchen my mind racing can't the police trace the call do they need to be on the line Do I need to keep the call on for 60 seconds? I had no idea. Do you want money?

I asked. My voice trembling as I opened my laptop. We don't have much but I'll wire it all to you. Right now, please just give Theobachmect me. I began placing a wireless call to 911. The crackling sound intensified. Please. The call dropped.

I immediately told the police. Begged them to trace it to do something, but they just gave me the same canned response they have had the past several days. So I got to my car and drove. I didn't even know where I was going, but then I felt myself pulling into the parking lot, staring at those same dark trees in winding trail. I was debating whether I should actually go in when I saw it, a plume of dark smoke rising over the treetops.

I jumped out over the car and ran into the forest, all while that horrible crackling sound played in my head. Thea, no, no. I climbed over rocks and sticks following the acrid smell of smoke. Please don't let it be. The fire stood in a small clearing, orange flames licking the air, a black smoke billowing up into the sky. Thea's remains were found in the fire. God, saying that her remains.

How can you say that about someone you love so much? Such a crude, horrible thing to say. Thea, my wonderful Thea's gone. Since I got the news, I've been sitting in the kitchen, down in whiskey as I flipped through photos of us in our final days. A photo of us on the boardwalk, her grinning and holding a sense. stuffed teddy bear, me standing stiffly beside her. I remember that trip how annoyed I was that she wanted to play every game in 90-degree weather. What an idiot I'd been. Every minute with it was a gift. I flipped to another photo, a selfie of us on the couch, her grinning as she

held up the bowl pasta we've made from scratch. My thumb hit the screen as I started to flip to another photo. I stopped. Is that? In the photo I could see our front windows behind in the couch. I could see the neighbor's lights across the street, see a car rolling by the road, and I could see something else in a regular shadow. I zoomed in. The photo quality wasn't great, grainy swaths of blue and gray, but even so, I could see what it was. A figure. Crouched between our two bushes, looking inside. I stared at the blurry shape frozen. Then I flipped at the next photo. Thia and I sitting on the floor, we could probably. playing with gazelle and zooming into the window. I saw that same awful shape.

Crouched just outside the halo of our back porch light. The next one, the unknown is silent peeking in through an uncovered corner of our bedroom window. No. I flipped to the next photo, oh god, no, no. Thea standing in the laundry room, balancing a basket on her head and sticking her tongue out at me. But behind her, inside the house, a sliver of darkness poking out from behind the corner. Not a shadow, but someone's standing there. Yep. I jumped at foot as Gazelli led out a shrill yelp from the family room. I scrambled over to find her sitting in front of the window, staring into the darkness outside. Yep. Shaking madly, I stumbled over to the front door, clicked the deadbolt into the place, then I cut my hands over the window and peered out. Nothing.

I ran through the house making sure every window, every door was locked. I closed the curtains, even slid the locker across the basement door. Then, knowing I was safe, I collapsed onto the couch and began dying down to the police. And a few minutes, they'll be here, and they'll know everything. They'll find the bastard that killed Thea, who's apparently been stalking us for months. It'll make sure he gets the worst sentence he possibly can. Thea will get justice. It's finally over, or has it just begun?

Smiley face. My Skinwalker Story, Arizona. Okay, so to start out, I live in Mesa, Arizona, which is basically Phoenix, Arizona, because the main cities of Arizona spread out into many cities with no border in between. Mesa is what I would call the suburbs of Phoenix. I changed my name, of course. I live in an apartment complex I'd describe as close to the ghetto, but still nice. I live in a bedroom, one bathroom apartment in with my girlfriend.

Arizona is a state full of ancient Native American history. I live next to the Ho-ho-Kahn Canal, as do many Arizonians. The whole place used to be cities of ancient Native Americans. The point is, I'm in the area for what I believe to be a skinwalker. I'll get to my story. Yesterday, I was drinking. One of the things I picked up during the COVID-19 quarantine or what's enforced here, and I decided to smoke a bowl on my apartment patio, which I don't usually do, mind you.

I just finished loading up my pipe and taking the first hit when I hear a voice, somewhere nearby. Amanda, open the door, please. It was a young, probably in the 20s girl's voice talking, and it sounded a calm and teasing. It continued on as I tried to ignore it, smoking my last bud. After about four times of repeating itself, my curiosity caused me to look for the source. I saw it in an apartment building facing across from me. I saw a dog standing on its hind legs leaning on a door, tapping. At first I shrugged, of course.

Then I hear the voice again. It sounded exactly the same as last time. Exactly the same, as if you recorded their voice in that sentence and replayed it once again. There wasn't any other sound or movement in the complex. I watched the thing, knock on Amanda's door for like 30 seconds in what I could call state of shocking curiosity. Then it stopped and didn't move for about 20 seconds until the dog or thing stood all the way up, away from the doorway, on its high on legs, and turned to face me. It made eye contact with me, which is weird because we are at least 50 yards away.

I'm on the third floor, and it's on the second, but I felt it looking at me. I held its eye contact. I was so scared I felt like I should run. Then it got in all fours and headed down the stair slowly. At the bottom, it started slowly walking over to me. I was on all fours now, about to go inside or scream, I don't know, but I had to know what this thing was going to do. It walked close to my balcony.

Yes, it was a dog, a brownish, yellow, dirty-looking thing with big eyes that were 100% attentive to mine. It didn't seem natural to be honest, but nothing looked wrong at the glance, except that it was staring into my eyes and wouldn't stop. I ran inside as it reached the bottom of my stairs and locked my doors. Soon I heard clawing at my door, doggy clawing. Next, I heard the door to handle jingle, then it started on my front porch door. I, of course, never answered.

Instead, I hid behind my kitchen counter with a knife. After about 30 minutes it left, I stayed up all night, but I didn't see it again, and I didn't go out again. I'm hoping it doesn't come back. I haven't gone outside at all night. I'm burning sage and trying to be careful as I can. And right, before we get into the second part of this story, I'm sure you've already, you know, gained from the first part of the story that this is a bunch of just different stories.

It's not a bunch of or it's not just one long story. It's just a bunch of small segmented out different stories of things that happened. So yeah. And also this story will have a bunch of parts. So I'll just say part two, part three, part four, part five or whatever before we get into the next part just so you can easily tell when we're going into the next part. And yeah, I just want to say that before we get into the next part. But anyways, this is, I'm a search and rescue officer for the U.S. Forest Service. I have some stories to tell part two, but from now on I'll just say part three, etc.

But anyways, let's get into this one. So I logged back on tonight and was blown away by the staggering amount of interest this seems to have generated. First off, I'll address a few things that you guys have brought up. There's been an overwhelming amount of people mentioning the similarity between some of my stories and those of David Paldives. I assure you, I'm not trying to rip him off in any way. way. I've got nothing but respect for the guy. He's actually what inspired me to write this because I can verify a lot of the things he talks about. We do have a lot of these strange missing persons cases and most of the time they aren't solved. Either that or we find them in places

they have no business being. I personally haven't been on many calls like that, but I'll share a few that I've seen. And a story my friend told me that relates to this. There was a lot of feedback about the stairs, so I'll touch briefly on that here. And I'll also include a story. They They come in a variety of shapes, sizes, styles, and conditions. Some are pretty dilapidated, just ruins, but others are brand new. I saw one set that looked like they came from a lighthouse. They are metal and spiral, almost old-fashioned. The stairs don't go up infinitely, or farther than I can see, but some sets are taller

than others. Like I said before, just imagine the stairs in your house as if someone cut and pasted them in the middle of nowhere. I don't have any pictures. It's never really occurred to me to try again after the first. time and I don't really feel like risking my job over it. I'll try again in the future, but I can't really promise anything. A few people express confusion about the guy who ran into the man with no face. Just to clarify, when the climber assented and reached the top of his peak, he saw another man in a

parka in ski pants. This was the man with no face. Sorry about the confusing wording of that story. I'll try to avoid that in the future. All right, onto the new stories. As far as missing persons go, I'd say about half the calls I get are related to that. The others are rescue calls, people who fall down cliffs and hurt themselves, get injured by fire. You wouldn't believe how often this happens, mostly drunk kids, get bitten or stung by animals or insects. We're a tight team, and we have veterans who are excellent at finding signs of lost people. That's what makes these cases where we never find any trace of them so frustrating. One in particular was upsetting for all of us, because we did.

find a trace of them. But it just led to more questions than answers. An older man had been hiking alone on a well-established trail, but his wife called to say that he hadn't come home when he should have had. Apparently he had a history of seizures and she was worried that he hadn't taken his medication and suffered one out on the trail. Before you ask, I have no idea why he thought it was okay to go out alone or why she didn't go with them. I didn't ask about that kind of thing because past a certain point, it really doesn't matter. Someone is missing and it's my job to find them. We went out in a standard search formation, and it wasn't long before one of our vets found signs that the guy had gone off the trail. We grouped up and followed him, spreading

out in a fan to make sure we are covering as much ground as possible. Suddenly a call comes over the radio telling us to all head back to the vet's location, and we come right away, because this usually means the missing person is injured, and we need a full team to help get them out safely. We meet back up, and the vet is just standing at the base of the tree with his hands on the sides of his head. I asked my buddy what's going on, and he points up into the branches of this tree. I almost couldn't believe what I was seen, but there's a walking stick dangling from a branch at least 30 feet off the ground. The little strap thing on the handle has been looped around the branch, and it's just hanging there. There's no way this guy could have tossed it up that far,

and we don't see any other signs that he's still in the area. We call up into the tree, but it's obviously no one's in it. We're all just sort of left scratching our heads. We keep searching for the guy, but we never find them. We even bring our canines out, but they lose a scent long before this tree. Eventually, the search is called off because there are other calls we have to attend to, and past a certain point there's not much we can do. The guy's wife called us every day for months, asking if we'd found her husband. And it was heartbreaking to hear her get more and more hopeless each time.

I'm not sure why this call in particular was so upsetting, but I think it was just the sheer improbability of it. that and the questions that were raised. How the hell had this guy's cane ended up there? Did someone kill him and toss that up there as some weird trophy? We did our best to find them, but it was almost like a taunt. We still talk about that one from time to time. Missing kids are the most heartbreaking.

Doesn't matter what circumstances they go missing under, it's never easy. And we always, always dread the ones we find deceased. It's not common, but it does happen. David Paul Dees talks a lot about kids' S-A-R teams finding places they shouldn't be or couldn't be. I can honestly say I've heard about this kind of thing happening more than I've seen it, but I'll share one of the ones that I think about a lot that I witnessed personally. A mother and her three kids were out for a picnic in an area of the park that has a small lake. One in six.

One is five. And the other is about three. She's watching them all really closely. And according to her, she never lets them out of her sight at any time. She never saw anyone else in the area either, which is important. She packs their stuff up and they start to head back to the parking area. Now, this lake is only about two miles into the woods. It's on a very clearly established trail.

It's almost impossible to get lost, getting from the parking area to it, unless you're deliberately going off the path like an impassal. Her kids are walking in front of her when she hears what sounds like someone coming up the path behind her. She turns around and in the four or so second she's not looking, her five-year-old son vanishes. She figures he'd stepped off the trail at pee or something, and she asked her other two where he went. They both tell her that a big man with a scary face

came out of the woods next to them, took the kid's hand, and led him into the trees. The two remaining kids don't seem upset. In fact, she says later they almost seem like they've been drugged. They're sort of spacing fuzzy. So of course she freaks out, starts looking frantically in the area for the kids. She's screaming his name,

and she says at one point, she thinks she heard him answer her. Now obviously she can't go blindly running into the woods. She's got two other kids, so she calls the police and they send us out immediately. We respond and we start the search for him. Over the course of this search, which spans miles, we never find a single trace of the kid. Canines can't pick up any scent. We don't find any clothing or broken bushes or literally anything that would signify a child being there. Of course, there's suspicion about the mother for a while, but it's pretty clear that she's completely distrable. destroyed by the whole thing. We looked for this kid for weeks, with a lot of volunteer help,

but eventually the search peters out, and we have to move on. The volunteers keep searching, though, and one day we get a call on the radio letting us know that a body has been found and needs to be recovered. They tell us the location, and none of us can believe it. We figured it has to be a different kid, but we go out there, about 15 miles from the site where he vanished, and sure enough, we find the body of the kid we've been looking for. I've been trying to figure out how this kid got where he did ever since we found him, and I've never come up with an answer. He volunteered just happened to be in the area because he figured

he might as well look in places no one else would think of to the off chance the body had been dumped. He comes to base of a tall, rocky slope, and halfway up he sees something. He looks through his binoculars, and sure enough, it's the body of a little boy, stuffed in a little opening in the rock. He recognizes the color of the kid's shirt. so he knows right away that it's the missing boy. That's when he calls it in and we're dispatched.

It took us almost an hour to get his body down, and none of us could believe what we were seen. Not only was this kid 15 miles from where he started, there was no possible way he could have gotten up there on his own. This slope is treacherous, and it's hard even with us with our climbing gear. A five-year-old boy had no way of getting up there. Of that, I'm certain. Not only that, but the kid doesn't have a scratch on him.

His shoes are gone, but his feet aren't damaged or dirty. so it wasn't as if an animal dragged him up there. And from what we can tell, he hadn't been dead long. He'd been out there for only a month by that point, and it looked like he'd only been dead for at least a day or two. The whole thing was unbelievably strange, and it was one of the most disconcerting calls I've ever been on. We found out later that the coroner determined the kid had died from exposure.

He'd frozen to death, probably late at night two days before he found him. There were no suspects and no answers. To date, it's one of the weirdest things I've ever seen. One of my first jobs as a trainee was a search-op for a four-year-old kid that had gotten separated from his mom. This was one of these cases where we knew we were going to find him because the dogs were on a strong scent trail, and we saw clear signs that he was in the area.

We ended up finding him in a berry patch about half a mile from where he'd been last seen. Kid wasn't even aware that he'd wandered that far. One of the vets brought him back, which I was glad for, because I'm really not good with kids, and I find it hard to talk to them and keep them company. As my trainer and I are headed back, she decides to take me on a detour to show me one of the hotspots where we tend to find missing people. It's a natural dip in the land near a popular trail, and people usually move downhill because it's easier. We hike out there. It's a few miles away, and we get there in about an hour or so. As we're walking around the area,

and she's pointing out places she's found people in the past, I see something in the distance. Now this area we're in is about 8 miles from the main parking area, though there's back roads you can take to get closer if you don't want to hike that far. But we're on state protected land, which means there can't be any kind of commercial or residential development out here. The most you'll ever see is a fire tower or makeshift shelter that homeless people think they can get away with building. But I can see from here that whatever this thing is has straight edges.

If there's one thing you learn quickly, it's that nature rarely make straight lines. I pointed out and she doesn't say anything. She just hangs back and lets me wander over and check it out. I get within about 20 feet of it, and all the hair on the back of my neck stands up. It's a staircase in the middle of the fucking woods. In the proper context, it would literally be the most benign thing ever. It's just a normal staircase with beige carpet in about 10 steps tall. But instead of being in a house where it obviously should be, it's out here in the middle of the woods.

The sides aren't carpeted, obviously, and I can see the wood it's made out of. It's almost like a video game glitch, where the house has failed to load completely, and the stairs are the only thing visible. I stand there, and it's like my brain is working overtime to try and make sense of what I'm seeing. My trainer comes and stands next to me, and she just stands there casually, looking at it as if it's the least interesting thing in the world. I ask her, what the fuck this thing is doing here? And she just chuckles.

Get used to it, Rucky. You're going to see a lot of us. him. I start to move closer, but she grabs my arm. Hard. I wouldn't do that, she says. Her voice is casual, but her grip is tight, and I can just stand there looking at her. You're going to see them all the time, but don't go near them. Don't touch them. Don't go up them. Just ignore them. I start to ask her about it, but something in the way she's looking at me tells me that it's best if I don't. We end up on, and the subject doesn't come up again for the rest of my training. She was right, though. I would say about every fifth call I go on, I end up running across a set of stairs. Sometimes they're

relatively close to the path, maybe within two or three miles. Sometimes they're 20, 30 miles out, literally in the middle of nowhere. And I only find them during the broadest searches or training weekends. They're usually in good condition, but sometimes it looks like they've been out there for miles. All different kinds, all different sizes. The biggest I ever saw looked like what came out of a turn of the century mansion and were at least 10 feet wide with steps leading up to at least 15 or 20 feet. I've tried talking about it with people, but they usually just give me the same response my trainer did. It's normal. Don't worry about it. They're not a big deal. But don't go close to them or up them. When trainees ask me about it now, I give them the same response. I don't really know

what else to tell them. I'm really hoping someday I get a better answer, but it happens didn't happen yet. This is another one that was less spooky and more sad. A young man went missing late in winter, when realistically no one should be going that far out onto the trails. We closed a lot of them, but some remain open year-round, unless there's a shitload of snow. We didn't opt for him, but we had at least six feet of snow on the ground. It was an unusually heavy snow year, and we knew it wasn't likely that we'd find him until spring when the thaw came. Sure enough, when the first big thought came, a hiker reported a body a little ways off the main trail. We found them at the base of a tree in a pile of melted snow. I knew right away what had happened,

and it scared the living shit out of me. Most of you who ski or snowboard or spend any amount of time on a mountain will probably have guessed too. When snow falls, it doesn't collect as thick in the areas beneath the branches. It happens most with fir trees because they have a sort of closed umbrella shape, so what you end up with is a sort of closed umbrella shape, so what you end up with is a space around the base of a tree that's filled with a mixture of loose powdery snow, air, and branches. They're called tree wells, and they're not immediately obvious if you don't know what you're looking for. We put up signs in the welcome center, big ones, letting people know how dangerous they are. But every year that we get an unusual amount of snow, at least one person

doesn't read them, or doesn't take the warning seriously. We find out about it in the spring. My best guess is that this young man was hiking and got tired, or maybe a cramp from walking in the deep snow. He went to go sit at the base of a tree, not knowing that there was a tree well and fell in. He got stuck with his feet up and the surrounding snow caved in around him. Unable to free himself, he suffocated. It's called snow immersion suffocation, and it doesn't usually happen except in really deep snow, but if you get stuck in a weird position, like this guy did, even six feet of snow can be lethal. What scared me the most was imagining how he must have struggled, upside down, in the freezing cold, he didn't die quickly.

The snow would have formed a dense, heavy pile on top of him, and it would have been literally impossible to get out of. As it got harder to breathe, he would have known what was happening. I can't even imagine what he was thinking in his last moments. A lot of my less outdoorsy friends want to know if I've ever seen the goat man while I've been out on calls. Unfortunately, or I guess fortunately, I've never had anything quite like that happen. I guess the closest was the whole black-eyed man thing, but I didn't see anything. However, there was one call where I had something kind of similar happen, but I'm not sure I'm willing to chalk it up to goat man.

We'd gotten a report that an older woman had fainted along one of the trails and needed assistance getting back down to the main area. We hike up to where she's at, and her husband is just beside himself. He runs, well, I guess more jogs to us and tells us that he was just a little ways off the trail looking at something when his wife starts screaming behind him. He runs back to her and she's passed out on the trail. We get her on a backboard and as we're getting her down to the welcome center, she comes and starts screaming again. I calm her down and ask what happened. I can't remember verbatim, but she said, but essentially what happened was this.

She'd been waiting for her husband when she started hearing this really strange sound. She said it sounded sort of like a cat, but it was off somehow, and she couldn't quite figure out why. She went a little ahead to try and hear it better, and it sounded like it was coming closer. She said the closer it got, the more uneasy she was, until she finally figured out what was wrong. I do remember this next part because it was so weird that I don't think I could forget it if I tried. It wasn't a cat, it was a man, saying the word meow over and over, just, meow, meow, meow. But it wasn't a man, it couldn't have been, because I've never heard a man make his voice buzz

like that. I thought my hearing aid was going out, but it wasn't. I adjusted it, and it still sounded all buzzing. It was awful. He was coming closer, but I couldn't see him. And the closer he got, the more scared I was. And the last thing I remember was a shape coming out of the trees. I guess that's when I fainted.

Now, obviously I'm a little perplexed as to why a guy would be out in the fucking woods, chanting meow meow at people. So once we get down the mountain, I tell my superior that I'm going to go search the area to see if I can find anything. He gives me the go ahead and I grab a radio and hike back to where she fainted. I don't see anyone, so I keep going about a mile more. And when I head back to go off the trail to see if I can figure out where she saw him coming from, it's almost sunset by this point. I don't have any desire to be out a night alone, so I just sort of write it off and make a mental note to check it out again tomorrow. But as I'm a sunset, I'm going to be a As I'm headed back, I start to hear something in the distance.

I stop and I call out for anyone in the immediate area to identify themselves. The sound didn't come closer or get louder, but it sounded exactly like a man saying, meow, meow, in this really odd monotone. As comical as it makes it sound, it was almost like that guy on South Park with the electro-larenix, Ned. I go off the trail in the direction I think it's coming from, but I never seem to get closer. almost like it's coming from all directions. Eventually it just sorts of fades out and I ended up going back to the welcome center. I didn't get any further reports like that. And even though I went

back to that area, I never heard that exact sound again. I suppose it could have been some stupid kid out there fucking with people, but even I have to admit it was weird. So this kind of turned into a massive wall of text and for that I apologize. I wanted to get to the stories my friend told me and he does have some good ones. So I'll post those tomorrow evening. I also have a few more of my own I think you guys will like. I'm sorry to keep you all in suspense again. Hopefully the stories here make up for it and help you get through the next 24 hours until I can post again.

Edit. It seems like all of you would like to hear more. Tomorrow I'll write up as many stories as I can and do a massive post. I'll include my friend's stories and I'll see if I can't get a hold of a few more people who might have interesting things to talk about. I just wasn't sure how people would feel about a big, huge walls of text. But if you're all okay with it, I'll post lots of stories. Part 3.

Well, once again, you guys have blown me away with your staggering amount of responses to my stories. There's no way I can respond to each of you individually, so I'm just going to address some common things again, and then move on to the stories. I'm going to write as many as I can think of in addition to my friend's stories, and I'll probably not update again until I get a chance to answer some questions that I myself have for my superiors. All right, so the common questions I found you all had. I'm not comfortable talking about where exactly I work, unfortunately.

In all reality, some of the things I've mentioned here could get me in a lot of trouble or fired, so it's best if I just don't discuss too much. I will say that I am in the United States and in an area that is comprised of a great deal of wilderness. We're talking hundreds of miles of thick forest with a mountain range and a few lakes. There is still a great amount of interest in the stairs, and luckily for you guys, my friend has a story that I think you'll all be very interested in. I'll go into that more at the end of this update. As for whether or not I have ever thought of asking my superiors about them, I have,

but again, I don't want to risk my job. However, one of my former superiors no longer works as an S-A-R officer, and it's possible that he may be willing to talk to me about it. I'll be speaking to him later in that week, and I will let you all know what comes of that. As far as advice on becoming an S-A-R officer goes, I think the best advice I can give is to contact your local Forest Service Office and see if they offer a training course or what the qualifications are. I've been doing this for years and I started out as a volunteer helping on S-A-R operations.

It's a great job, despite the occasional tragic situations and I wouldn't want to do anything else. All right, let's move on to the stories. The first happened on a case that I went out on right after I got out of training and was still pretty new to everything. Before I took this job, I was a volunteer, so I had a basic idea of what to expect, but on those calls, you're mostly dealing with finding lost people after vets have found signals of them. As an S-A-R officer, you go out for all kinds of cases, from animal bites to heart attacks. This case got called in early in the morning, from a young couple who were on the one of the trails that goes by the lake. The husband was completely hysterical, and we couldn't

really figure out what was going on. We could hear the woman screaming in the background and he was begging us to come up there right away. When we get there, we see him holding his wife and she's got something in her arms. She's screaming these awful, almost animal-like screams, and he's sobbing. He sees us and he screams at us to help him to please get an ambulance up there. Now obviously, we can't just drive an ambulance up the walking path, so we ask him if his wife needs help or if she can walk on her own. He's still hysterical, but he manages to tell us that it's not his wife that needs help. I go over while one of the vets tries to calm him down, and I ask the wife what's going on. She's rocking, holding something, and just shrieking over and over. I crouched down and see that

whatever she's holding, it's covering her with blood. That's when I noticed the sling on her front and my heart sinks. I ask her to tell me what's going on, and I sort of pry her arms gently open so I can see what she's holding. It's her baby, obviously dead. His head is caved in on one side and he's covered in scratches. Now, I've seen dead bodies before, but something about this whole situation hits me hard. I have to take a second to compose myself and I get up and go get another one of the vets who's standing by. I tell him that it's a dead kid. He sort of pats my shoulder and tells me he'll deal with it. It took us over an hour to get this woman to let us see your kid. Every time we try to take her from her, she flips out and tells us we can't say have

him, that he'll be okay if we just leave her alone and let her help him. But eventually, one of the vets manages to calm her down, and she gives us the body. We took it back to the med area, but when the EMT showed up, they told us that there was never any hope of saving the kid. He died instantly from the trauma to his head. I was good buddies with one of the nurses who met them at the hospital, and she told me, later, what had happened. Turns out the couple had been walking with the baby in the sling, and they stopped because the kid was fussing. The dad takes the kid and is holding him,

looking out over this gully by the path. The mom comes to stand next to him, but she ends up stepping on a loose patch of soil, and she trips. She falls into the dad, who drops the kid, who ends up falling about 20 feet down this little gully, onto the rocks at the bottom. The dad climbed down and recovered the kid, but he'd fallen right on his head and was dead by the time he got there.

The baby was only about 15 months old. It was a total freak accident, a series of events that collicited it into the worst possible outcome. Probably one of the more awful calls I've been on. I haven't seen a lot of animal bites in my time as an S-A-R officer, mostly because there aren't that many animals that come around the area. While there are bears in the area, they tend to stay pretty far away from people. And sightings are highly unusual.

Most of the animals you'll see are small ones, like coyotes, raccoons, or skunks. What we do see frequently, though, are moose. And let me tell you, moose are nasty fuckers. They'll chase after anything for any reason, and God help you if you get in between a female and its baby. One of the more amusing calls was of a guy who'd gotten chased down by an absolutely massive male moose and was stuck up a tree. Took us almost an hour to get him down. And when he was finally on solid ground again, he looks at me and says, God damn them fuckers is big up close.

I guess that's not really a scary story, but we still laugh about that one. I honestly don't know how I had forgotten about this story, but it is by far the scariest thing that's happened to me. I guess maybe I've tried so long to forget about it that it just doesn't come into my mind right away. As someone who spends literally all of their time in the woods, you don't ever want to let yourself get scared of being alone or out in the middle of nowhere. That's why when you have experiences like this, you tend to just forget about them and move on. This is, to date, the only thing that's ever made me really consider if this job is the right one for me.

I'd really like talking about it much, but I'll do the best I can to remember at all. As I recall, this took place right at the end of the spring. It was a typical lost child call, a four-year-old girl had wandered away from her family's campsite, and had been missing for about two hours. Her parents were completely despondent and told us what most parents do. My kid would never wander away. She's so good about staying close.

She's never done anything like this before. We assure the parents that will do everything we can to find her, and we spread out in a standard search formation. I was partnered with one of my good buddies, and we were sort of casually holding conversation while we hiked. I know it sounds callous, but you do sort of become desensitized when you've done this for so long. it becomes the norm, and I think to a certain extent you have to learn to desensitize yourself

in order to work this job. We search for a good two hours, going well beyond where we think we should be, and we come out of a small valley when something makes us both stop in unison. We freeze and look at each other, and there's almost a sensation like a plain depressorizing. My ears pop, and I have this odd sensation of having dropped about 10 feet. I start to ask my buddy if he felt that, But before I can, we hear the loudest sound I've ever heard in my life. It's almost like a freight train, passing directly by us, but it's coming from every direction at once, including above and below us. He screamed something to me, but I can't hear him over the deafening roar.

Understandably freaked out, we look around us trying to find the source of the sound, but neither of us sees anything. Of course, my first thought is a landslide, but we're not near any cliffs. And even if we were, it would have hit us by now. The sound goes on and on. We're trying to yell to each other, but even standing close together, we can't hear anything but this sound. Then, as suddenly as it starts, it stops, like someone threw a switch and cut it off. We stand there for a second, perfectly still, and slowly the normal sounds of the woods come back.

He asked me what the fuck just happened, but I just kind of shrug, and we stand there looking at each other for a minute. I get on the radio and ask if anyone else just heard the end of the fucking world, but no one else hears it. Even though we're all within shouting distance of each other, my buddy and I sort of shrug it off and keep going. About an hour later, we all check up on the radios and no one's found the little girl. Most of the time we won't search when it gets dark, but because we don't have any kind of lead on her, a few of us decide to keep going, including me and my buddy. We keep close together and we're calling out for her every couple of minutes. At this point, I'm hoping beyond hope that we find her, because while I may not like kids,

the idea of them being all out in the alone in the dark is awful. The woods can be intimidating to kids in the daylight. At night, well, it's a whole different beast. But we're not seeing any signs of her or getting any responses, and around midnight, we decided to turn around and head back to the rindivious point. We're about halfway back when my buddy stops and shines his light to the right of us, into a really thick deadfall or a group of dead trees. I ask him if he's heard a response, but he just tells me to be quite.

quiet a second and listen. I do, and in the distance, I can hear what sounds like a kid crying. We both call the girl's name and listen for any kind of response, but it's this really faint crying. We head in the direction of this deadfall and go around it, calling her name over and over. As we get closer to the crying, I start getting this weird feeling in my gut, and I tell my buddy that something isn't right. He tells me he feels the same way, but we can't figure out what it is. We stop where we are, and we call the girl's name again. And at the same time, we both figure it out. The crying is on a loop.

It's the same little hitching sob, then wail, then quiet hiccup, repeated over and over. It's exactly the same every time. And without saying another word, we both take off running. It's the only time I've ever lost my composure like that, but something about it was so incredibly wrong, and either of us wanted to stay out there anymore. When we got back to the Rendebius, we asked if anyone else had heard anything strange, but no one else knew what we were talking about. I know it sounds sort of anti-climatic, but that call fucked me up for a long time.

As for the little girl, we never found a trace of her. We keep an eye out for her and all the other people who we've never found, but frankly, I doubt we'll ever find anything. Of the missing person's calls I've gone out on, only a handful have ever resulted in a complete disappearance, meaning no trace of the person and no body ever found. But sometimes finding a body just leads to more questions than answers. Here are some of the bodies we found that have become infamous in our team. A teenage boy whose remains were recovered almost a year after he vanished.

We found the top of his skull, two finger bones, and his camera almost 40 miles from where he was last seen. The camera, sadly, was destroyed. The pelvis of an older man who had vanished a month earlier, that was all we found. The lower jaw and right foot of a two-year-old boy on the highest peak of a ridge in the southern part of the park. The body of a 10-year-old girl with Down syndrome, almost 20 miles from where she'd vanished. She died of exposure three weeks after going missing, and all of her clothes were intact except for her shoes and jacket. There were berries and cooked meat in her stomach when they did the autopsy. The coroner said it appeared as if someone had been taken care of her.

There were no suspects ever identified. The frozen body of a one-year-old baby found a week after vanishing in the hollow trunk of a tree 10 miles from the area he was last seen. There was fresh milk found in his stomach, but his tongue was gone. A single vertebrae and right kneecap of a three-year-old girl found. in the snow almost 20 miles from the campground her family had been the previous summer. Now on to a couple of the stories my friend told me. I mentioned that you were all interested in the stairs and you're in luck. He's at a close encounter with them. Though he doesn't have any explanation for

them, he does have a bit more experience with them than I do. My buddy has been an S-A-R officer for about 70 years. He started when he was a junior in college and he had a very similar experience when he first encountered the stairs. His trainer told him almost the same thing mine did, which was to never go near, touch or send them. For the first year, he did that, but apparently his curiosity got the better of him. And on one call, he broke away from the line and went to go check out a set of them. He said they were about 10 miles from the path where a teenage girl had vanished, and the dogs were following his scent. He was on his own lagging behind the main group. When he saw a set of stairs off to his left, they looked like they were from a new house because the carpet was pristine and

white. He said that as he got closer, he didn't feel any different or hear any weird noises. He was expecting something to happen like bleeding from his ears or collapsing, but he got right up next to him and didn't feel anything. The only thing he said that was odd was that there was absolutely no debris on the steps, no dirt, leaves, dust, anything. And there didn't appear to be any signs of animal or insect activity in the immediate area, which he found strange. It was less like things were avoiding them, and more like they just happened to be in a relatively barren part of the forest. He touched the stairs. It didn't feel anything except that sort of sticky feeling you get from a new carpet. Making sure his radio was on, he slowly climbed the stairs.

He said it was terrifying because the way they'd been stigmatized, he wasn't really sure what was going to happen to him. He joked that half of him expected to be taken. hell ported to some other dimension in, the other half was watching for a UFO to come swooping down, but he got to the top with a little event, and he stood there looking around. But he said, the longer he stood on the top step, the more he felt like he was doing something very, very wrong. He described it as the feeling you get if you were in part of a government building, you have no business being in, as if someone was going to come and arrest you or shoot you in the back of the head at any second. He tried to brush it off, but the feeling got stronger and stronger,

and that's when he realized that he couldn't hear anything anymore. The sounds of the forest were gone, and he couldn't hear his own breathing. It was like some kind of awful, weird, tinnitus, but more oppressive. He climbed back down and rejoined the search, and didn't mention what he'd done. But, he said, the weirdest part came after. His trainer was waiting back at the welcome center after the search ended for the day, and he cornered my buddy before he could leave. He said his trainer had this look of intense anger, and he asked what was wrong. You went up to them, didn't you? My buddy said it wasn't phrased as a question.

He asked how his trainer knew. The trainer just shook his head, because we didn't find her. The dogs lost her scent. My buddy asked what that had to do with anything. The trainer asked how long he'd been on the stairs, and my buddy said no more than a minute. The trainer gave him this really awful, almost dead-eyed look and told him that if he ever went up another set of stairs again, he'd be fired immediately. The trainer walked away, and I guess he's never answered any of the questions my buddy has asked him about it since. My buddy has been involved in a lot of missing persons cases where there's never been a trace of them found.

I mentioned David Paldives, but my buddy said he can confirm that those stories are, for the most part, accurate. He said that most of the time, if the person isn't found right away, they're either never found or they're found weeks, months or years later, in places they can't possibly have gotten to. One story he told me really stood out that involved a five-year-old boy with a severe mental disability. The little boy vanished from a picnic area in the late fall. In addition to the mental disability, he was also physically handicapped, and his parents explained over and over that he simply could not have vanished. It was impossible. Someone had to have taken him. My buddy said they searched for this kid for weeks, going miles out of the accepted

range, but it was like he'd never been there. The dogs couldn't pick up his scent anywhere, not even in the picnic area where he'd apparently vanished from. Suspicion fell upon the parents, but it was pretty clear that they were devastated and hadn't done anything sinister to their kid. The search was concluded about a month later, and my buddy said everyone had pretty much forgotten it by later in the winter. He was out on a training amp in the snow on one of the higher peaks when he came across something in the snow. He said he saw it from far away at first, and when he got closer, he realized it was a shirt,

frozen and sticking part way out of the powder. He recognized it as belonging to the kid because it had a distinctive pattern. About 20 yards away, he found the kid's body, lane partially buried in the snow. My buddy said there was no way the kid had been dead for more than a few days, even though he'd been missing for almost three months. The kid was curled around something, and when my buddy brushed off the snow to see what it is, he said he almost couldn't believe what he was seen. It was a big chunk of ice that had been carved crudely to look sort of like a person. The kid was holding it so tight that it had frostb in his chest and hands.

when my buddy could tell even with the decay that had taken place. He radioed the rest of the crew, and they took the body off the mountain. Now he recapped all of this for me, and to put it simply, there was no way this kid could have both survived for almost three months on his own or have gotten to this peak. There was no physical way this child could have walked almost 50 miles and ended up on top of a goddamn mountain. To top it off, there was nothing in the kid's stomach or colon, nothing, not even water. It was like my buddy said the kid had been taken off the face of the earth, put in suspended animation, and dropped on this mountain months later, only to die of exposure. He's never really gotten over that one.

The last story I'll share from him was one that took place relatively recently, only a few months ago. They were out doing a recon for mountain lines because there have been several reports of sidings in the last couple of days. One of our jobs is to scout out the area where these animals are seen to ensure that if they are in the area we can warn people and close off those trails. He was out on his own in a very heavily forested part of the park towards dusk when he heard what sounded like a woman screaming in the distance. Now, as most of you know, when a mountain lane screams, it sounds almost exactly like a woman being brutally murdered. It's unsettling, but far from abnormal. My buddy radioed back and let ops know that he'd heard one. then he was going to keep going to see if he could figure out where its territory started.

He heard the mountain lion scream a couple more times, almost from the same spot, and determined the approximate area of the mountain lion's territory. He was about to head back when he heard another scream, this time within only a few yards of him. Of course, he freaks out and starts heading back at a much faster pace because the last thing he wants is to run into a goddamn mountain lion and get mauled to death. As he got back on the path and started heading back, the screaming followed him, and he broke into a jog. When he was about a mile from ops, the screaming stopped, and he turned around to see if it was following him. It was almost night by this point, but he said in the distance, just before the path rounded a corner,

he could see what looked like a male figure. He called out to them, warning them that the paths were closed and needed to come back to the welcome center. The figure just stood there. my buddy started to walk over. When he was about 10 yards away, the figure took as a he described, an impossibly long step, toward him and let out a same scream my buddy had been hearing. My buddy didn't even say anything. He just turned and sprinted back to ops, never looking behind him.

By the time he got back, the screaming had moved back into the woods. He didn't mention it to anyone else, just said that there was a mountain line in the area and that they would need to close those paths until the animal could be located, and moved. I'm going to end this entry here since it's turned into a huge wall of text. I'm going to be heading out on a yearly training op tomorrow morning, so I'll be gone until early next week. I'll be meeting with a lot of former trainers and buddies who work in other areas of the park, and I'll be asking around about any stories they'd like to share. I'm so glad you guys have been interested in my stories, and once I'm back from this op, I'll continue to share them.

Part 4 Hey guys, I'm back from my training op, and I have a lot of really interesting stories to share with you. I've got enough that I'm going to break them up into two parts, this being the first. I'd love to put them all in one entry, but I just haven't had a chance to write them all down yet. I didn't have anything too crazy happen while I was out there, but we did have one incident with a rookie that I found relevant. Since I'm sure you guys have been waiting for these, I'll just get right back into the stories. I'll assign each batch of stories to the person who told them. them to me, KD. KD is a vet who's been an S-A-R officer for about 15 years. She specializes

in high-elevation mountain rescues and is widely considered one of the best in her field. She was one of the more enthusiastic storytellers and since we were together a fair amount during exercises, she ended up telling me about four that really stuck with me. The first she told me in response to my asking about her most traumatic calls. She shook her head and told me that really bad calls happen more frequently on the mountain, since the potential for nasty accidents is higher. About five years ago, one of the parks she worked at had a string of disappearances. It was a bad year, she said, one of the worst on record as far as weather went. They were getting about a foot of new snow every couple of days, and there were a few avalanches

that killed some hot climbers. They'd warned people about staying on the mapped areas, but of course there's always those who don't listen. In one particularly now, nasty case, and the entire family got wiped out because the father decided he knew better than the officials, and he took them out into an area that wasn't safe. They were snowshoeing, and as best KD could figure, they'd walked onto a shelf of snow that looked solid but actually wasn't. It gave way, and this family went ass over a tea kettle almost 300 feet down a slope. They landed on rocks at the bottom, and the parents died instantly. One of the kids did as well, but the other two survived. One had broken a leg and fractured ribs. The other was almost unharmed, save for some

bruising and a sprained ankle. The uninjured kid left his sibling behind and set out to find help. Katie said the kid didn't make it more than half a mile before a storm overtook him. Kids stopped to try and get warm or maybe just to rest and ended up freezing to death. They ended up finding the family with the help of some witnesses who saw them heading out into the wilderness, and she was the one to find the kid who froze to death looking for help. She said it had started to snow, just enough to obscure long-distance vision, but not enough to make searching impossible. She saw a figure sitting in the snow up ahead, and she got to it as quickly as possible. She described, in detail, how as she got closer, she realized first that it was a child,

second, that they were deceased, and third, that they had frozen in one of the most pitiful positions she'd ever found a corpse in. The kid was sitting upright, with his knees tucked up against his chest. His arms were cold around them, and his head was tucked up in his coat. When she moved the coat to look at his face, she saw that he died crying. His face was twisted and the tears were frozen on his cheeks. She said it was painfully obvious that the kid was terrified when he succumbed to hypothermia. And as a mother, it broke her heart. She told me repeatedly, as she hopes the father is burning in hell as we speak. The other traumatic story she told me, that stood out in my mind, was one that happened when she was a rookie.

Her team got a report of an experienced climber who hadn't come home the previous day. His wife was convinced that something bad had happened because he'd never failed to come home on time. They went out looking for him and had to climb what sounded like some very technically challenging parts of the mountain. They got to a relatively flat part, and Katie started seeing blood in the snow. She followed the trail and as she went, she started seeing little bits of tissue. She wasn't sure exactly what body part it had come from, but the farther she followed it, the more there was. She follows this blood and tissue trail to a sheltered area under a cliff face, and she finds the climber.

She said there was so much blood, more than she'd ever seen before. He was lying face down, one arm stretched in front of him, as if he died crawling. She looks closer and sees that he's been partially disemboweled, which is where the tissue she'd seen had come from. The guy has an ice pick tucked into a hip holster and it's covered in blood. Of course, they'll never be sure exactly what happened, but she said as best she can figure, this is what went down. The guy had been attempting to climb up to the next area

and had been using his ice axe to ascend. He'd probably hit a loose patch and had fallen, on the way down or possibly when he landed. He'd gotten impaled by the axe and it had disemboweled him. He drugged himself alone, tearing pieces, of himself out as he went and had died under the cliff face. She isn't terribly bothered by gore, but I guess a few of the guys who came to help her remove the body threw up when they turned him over and a good portion of his intestines spilled out. I mentioned to her that I was interested

in hearing about any experiences she had with people completely disappearing. Her eyes lit up and she leans in close to me. Want to hear real doozy? She asked, but tells me about how, When she first started, there was a case that got a lot of attention in the media. A family had been out burry picking in an area of the forest very close to the entrance of the park. They had two little boys, both under the age of five, and at some point during the day, one of them vanishes. There's an absolutely massive search, and they find absolutely nothing. It's another one of those cases where it's like the kid was never there in the first place. The dogs just sit down and don't pick up on anything.

No trace of the kid is found. The search goes on for about two months, but is eventually called off. Fast forward to six months later, the family comes back to place flowers at a memorial that's been set up for their kid. They bring their other son. While they're placing the flowers, they lose sight of the kid for about three seconds, and in that time of he vanishes into thin air. Now, obviously, the parents are beyond devastated. It's awful enough to lose one child, but to lose two is beyond a matter.

The search is huge, one of the largest in state's history. There are about 300 volunteers combing every inch of the park looking for the kid. But again, there's no trace of him. The search goes on for about a week, with people looking miles from the part of the park he vanished of. And then almost two weeks later, a volunteer almost 15 miles from the designated search area, radio is in that he's found the kid. They assumed that the kid was dead, but the volunteer says he's not only alive, but he's in good shape.

Katie and her team go out to recover the kid. And when they get there, she can't believe that this is the kid that's been missing. His clothes are clean, there's no dirt on him anywhere, and he doesn't appear traumatized. The volunteer says he found the kid sitting on the log, playing with a little twig bundle that's bound together with some old rope. Katie asked him where's he's been, who he has with for those two weeks. And the kid tells her that he's been with The Fuzzy Man. Now, Katie firmly believes in Bigfoot, so she gets all excited and asks what he means by Fuzzy.

Was he hairy? The kid says no. He wasn't hairy. He was a fuzzy man. He describes a man that's blurry, like when he closed your eyes, but not all the way closed. He says the man came out of the trees and took the kid with him deep into the woods. The kid says he slept in a hollow tree, and the fuzzy man gave him berries to eat. Katie asked if the man was mean, if he scared the kid.

And the kid says, no, he wasn't scary, but I didn't like how he didn't have any eyes. Katie says they get the kid back to headquarters and a cop takes him into town to talk to him more about what happened. She's friends with the cop that talked to him, and she said the kid described being kept in this tree by the fuzzy man and give him berries whenever he was hungry. He was allowed to wander around a very specific clearing, but when he tried to go further, the fuzzy man would get mad and yell real loud even though he didn't have a mouth. When the kid got scared at night, the fuzzy man made it go brighter and gave him the twig bundle. He said the fuzzy man was going to keep him. But he had to let him go because the kid wasn't the right kid. He either can't or won't elaborate more on that.

The cops are just sort of left scratching their heads, and the search for his brother is renewed with no results. The kid has no idea where his brother might be, and they never would find him. The last story that Katie told me was of something that happened to her when she got separated from her training group when she was a rookie. They were learning the basics of high elevation belaine on a well-mapped side of the mountain, and she had to use the bathroom. She went off about 50 yards from the group during a meal break and did her business. I'll tell the rest exactly as it told me. So I go to take a piss, and once I'm done, I start going back to the group, and I've only gotten about five feet when I realized that I have no idea where I am.

And this, it wasn't a, oh, I got turned around lost. I mean, I had literally no fucking clue where I was. If you'd asked me, I don't even think I'd be able to tell you what state we were in. It was sort of how I imagined people with amnesia feel, you know? You're completely lost and you've no idea what to do. So I stood there for a while, just trying to figure out where the fuck I was and what I was supposed to do. But the longer I stand there, the more confused and turned around I get, so I started walking.

As I recall, I just picked a random direction and went for it. And as I'm walking, it's just getting worse and worse at the point where I have no concept of why I'm on the mountain in the first place. I'm just trudging through the snow, and then I start hearing this voice. It's kind of inside my head almost, like of a frog of talk, all low and croaky. And it's telling me over and over, it's okay, it's okay. You just need to find something to eat, find something to eat, and you'll be okay. Just keep walking and find something to eat.

Eat. Eat. So I start looking around for anything that I can eat. I swear to God, I've never felt that hungry in my whole life. It was bottomless. I think I'd have eaten just about anything you put right in front of me then. I had no concept of time, so I had no idea how long I'd been out there when I hear an actual voice coming towards me.

I go towards it and see one of the other S-A-Rs and he looks fucking terrified. He's running towards me, asking if I'm okay, and what the hell I'm doing out here. And the scary thing was, as he's running toward me, I kind of see myself reaching into my belt for my hunting knife. I'm not even really thinking about what I'm doing, but what I am thinking is that I have to eat. If I don't eat, I'll never be okay again.

So I just have to eat. He sees me doing that and he backs off right away. He yells at me to put my knife away, that he's not going to hurt me. And that kind of snaps me back. All of a sudden, I know exactly where I am and I put the knife away. I run to him and ask how long I've been gone, thinking he'll tell me I've been gone for a half hour or so, but he tells me I've been gone for two fucking days. I've gone over

two peaks and ended up almost on the other side of the mountain. And if I'd kept going, I would have ended up wandering into about 300 miles of wilderness. They'd never have found me. He can't believe I'm not dead. And of course, I don't know what the fuck to think. To me, no time has passed at all. I don't say anything. I just go back with them. to Rendavius Point, and I'm taking back to HQ to be airlifted to a hospital. When I get there, they do all kinds of tests and try to figure out what happened. As best they can guess, I had some kind of weird fugue state, which is kind of like amnesia, or a weird seizure that knocked my brain out of whack.

But the truth is that we really don't know. It's never happened again, but I'll tell you, ever since then, I never go out there alone. People rag on me for making them come out with me when I have to leave the group, but I just tell them. M. That listening to me pissing the snow is better than losing me for two fucking days on a freezing mountain. EW. The next person I talked to was EW, a former trainer who now works as an EMT. He still comes to ops like this to help out, but doesn't work full time for us anymore.

He specialized in finding lost kids. He just seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to know. knowing where they'd gone. He's a legend among these more senior vets, but he gets embarrassed if you compliment him on his work. He sat down with me at dinner one evening, and we ended up swapping stories. Most of them were just casual, but when we got on the subject of our weirder calls, I mentioned that I'd had a buddy who'd gone up a set of stairs. He got kind of quiet and asked me if I'd heard of a little boy who disappeared from his park a few years back. I hadn't, so he told me this story. They were out looking for this 11-year-old boy,

Joey who'd gone missing near a river. Of course, the first thought that he'd fallen in and drowned, but when they brought dogs out, they led SAR officers away from the river and up into a very densely-forced area. When we do searches for people, we search in a grid pattern, and we search every box of the grid incredibly thoroughly. What EW's team noticed right away was that a very strange pattern was emerging. Dogs in alternating boxes were picking up Joey's scent, but losing it when they overlapped with another box. If you think of a checkerboard, Joey's scent was being picked up in random black squares but never in red.

This, of course, didn't make any sense because how could the kid bounce from area to area without leaving a scent in each place he passed? EW and his partner pass into a new box of the grid, and EW notices a set of stairs about 50 yards away. He tells his partner that they need to go check near it, but his partner flat out refuses. He tells EW that he's made it to,

a point never to go near any stairs he sees, and that while it may be routine, he's not to pretend that it's normal. He tells EW that he'll wait in sight while EW checks. EW says he was irritated, but he felt for the guy and didn't push him on the subject. I walked over to the stairs. They were small, kind of like stairs into a basement. I don't really feel strongly one way or another about them, the stairs, I mean, so I wasn't scared or anything. I guess I'm like everyone else, and I just prefer not to think about them too much. Anyway, I went over and I could see that there was something lying on the bottom step, sort of curled up. My heart sinks because, of course, you always hope for the best. And we were confident that we'd find this kid alive, because he'd only been missing for a few hours,

but I knew right away that it was him and that he was dead. He was curled up in a little ball in the step holding his stomach. It looked like he'd been in horrible pain when he died, but I didn't see any blood except some on his lips and chin. I radioed in and that found him, and we got his body back to command. That poor family, they were devastated. The parents couldn't understand how he'd be dead, because he'd only been gone for such a short amount of time. And on top of that, we didn't have any obvious cause of death, which just made it worse. I figured he'd probably been eaten something poisonous since he was holding his stomach when I found him, but I don't want to guess. It's hard enough to hear that your kid is dead, let alone have some stupid S-A-R guy guessing about what happened.

It took them away, and I went home and tried not to think about it. I hate finding dead kids, man. I love this job, but it's one of the reasons I left. I've got two daughters, and the thought of losing them that way it was just... He choked up a little here. I'm not great with emotional stuff like that. It's always sort of awkward to see a grown man cry, so I don't really know what to do. He pulled himself together eventually, though, and he kept going.

going. We don't always hear back from the coroner is about cause of death. It's not really our job to know, I guess. And sometimes if they think it's foul play, they won't tell us because of legal bullshit. But I've got a friend who works for the sheriff's department, and he'll usually pass along any interesting info if I ask. In this case, though, I actually got a call from him about a week later. He asked if I remember the kid, and of course I do. And he says some seriously weird shit is going on. He tells me, EW, man, you're going to think of course. He's going to crazy, but the coroner has no idea what happened to this kid. He's never seen anything like it. My friend goes on to tell me that when the coroner opened the kid up, he couldn't even believe

what he was seen. The kid's organs were like Swiss cheese, quarter-sized holes were punched clean through just about each single organ this kid had, aside from his heart and lungs. But his colon, his stomach, his kidneys, and even one of his testicles were full of these clean holes. My friend said the coroner described it as if someone had taken enough. hole punch and punched holes out of everything. They were so neat. But the kid didn't even have a scratch on him, no entry or exit wounds. The closest to anyone there had ever seen like it was a guy who'd filled himself full of buckshot a year or so back while cleaning his rifle. No one had a clue what could have possibly have caused it. My friend asked me if I'd ever heard of anything like it

or if we'd had similar cases in the past, but I'd never even heard of something like that. And I told him I wasn't going to be any help to him. As far as I know, the coroner determined the cause of death as something like massive internal bleeding, but no one knows what really happened. I've never been able to forget that kid. I have nightmares about it sometimes. I don't let my kids go into the woods alone,

and when we go together, I never let them out of my sight. I used to love it out there, but that case and a couple others just sort of ruined it for me. Dinner was over, so we started to clean up and go back to our cabins. before we went our separate ways, he put his hand on my shoulder and looked at me really close. He tells me that there's bad things out here, things that don't care if we have families or lives or that we can think and feel. He tells me to be careful, and he walks away. I didn't have a chance to talk to it with him again, but that story stuck with me.

P.B. By pure coincidence, I got to talk to another vet. P.B. who's been in the S-A-R field for years. We were partnered on a grid sweep during a training exercise, and we were chatting casually about how we liked the job, what kinds of things we'd seen and the like. At one point, we passed an old set of stairs. Though these were probably from an old fire lookout, given the area that we were in, I sort of casually mentioned that I was curious about the stairs, and that I wished I knew more about them. He got kind of quiet and looked like he wanted to tell me something, but wasn't sure if he should. Finally, he told me to turn my radio off.

Obviously, this is something we are never, ever supposed to do, but I did, and he did the same. About seven years ago, he tells me, he was out on a call with a rookie. They were in an area of the park that had a lot of strange reports and events. Disappearances, stories about lights in the forest, odd noises, things like that. The rookie was totally spooked, kept going on and on about things out in the woods. According to P.B., the guy wouldn't stop talking about the goat man, just on. and on. Goatman this and goat man that. Finally, I told him that there were plenty else to be afraid of out there that was very real, that he better off get over this thing with the goat man.

The rookie wanted to know what kinds of things I was talking about, and I just told them to shut up and walk. We crested a little ridge and there was a staircase about 10 yards ahead. The rookie stops dead in his tracks and just stands there looking at them. I tell him, see, that's something you should be afraid of. The rookie asked me what the hell these are doing out here, and for some reason I just open up and tell them the truth. Or what I've been told is the truth. I could have gotten in a lot of trouble for doing what I did. I could get in a lot of trouble for repeating it to you, but you're a nice kid.

I want you to stop looking into this. Quit while you're ahead. So I'll tell you what I know, under the condition that you never breathe a word of this to the soups. I told them I wouldn't say a word. And he double checks that our radios are off. When I first started out, we were a little less tight-lipped about them and other things that happen out here. We warned people before they were even hired that there was weird shit going on.

I guess the Forest Service was tired of having such a massive turnover rate, and they wanted people to know what they were getting into. So they started having people sign these agreements that they wouldn't go into the media about what they were going to see. The FS didn't want to scare people away, so the last thing they needed were so. the last thing they needed were spooked rookies running off to the media with stories of ghosts and haunted stairs, but eventually they found that the agreements weren't necessary. People not only didn't want to talk about what they saw, they wouldn't. A few times, media tried to talk to people when kids or hikers would disappear, and no one would say a word.

I can't really explain it. I guess we just don't really want to admit anything is wrong. This is our job to be out in the woods every single day. We don't need to be spooked. And the best way to avoid that is to pretend like everything's okay. So I'll tell you everything I can think of. And after that, I'm done talking about it for good. And I expect you not to bring it up around me, ever. The stairs have been out here as long as the parks have existed. We have records going back decades describing them.

Sometimes people go up them and nothing happens. Other times, look, I really don't like talking about this, but sometimes really bad shit happens. I saw one guy get his hands sliced clean off when he got to the top step. He reached out to touch a tree branch and it happened so fast. One second his hand was there and the next day was gone. Completely clean wound. We didn't find his hand and the guy almost died.

Another time a woman touched one of the stairs and a blood vessel in her brain exploded, literally exploded like a water balloon. She sort of stumbled down and came over to me. And all she got out of was, I think something's wrong with me. She dropped like a sack of flower, dead before she hit the ground. I'll never forget the way the blood leaked into the side of her eye. Before she died, I watched it turn red. I watched it happen, and there wasn't a single thing I could do to help.

We warn people not to go anywhere near them, but there's always at least one idiot who does. And even if nothing happens to them, something bad always happens. Kids go missing as we're on the trails. Someone dies the next day, cut in half in a completely safe part of the problem. park. I don't know why, but something bad always happens. I don't know exactly why they're out here, but it doesn't matter. They're here, and if we were smart, we'd tell our new officer exactly what they're capable of. We were both quiet for a little while. I was afraid to talk because I wasn't sure if he was done. He looked like he wanted to say something else. Finally, he spoke up again. Have you

ever noticed how you can't find the same ones twice? I nodded, expecting him to continue. But he just stayed quiet, walking alongside me, and eventually he started a story about the biggest deer he'd ever seen in the park. I didn't bring up this subject again, and I didn't press him on any more stories. He dropped out of the op the next day. Apparently, he left before the sun came up. He said he was sick. None of us have heard from him since he left.

I'm going to stop here for the time being. I'll try and post the next part in the coming days, but what with it being the end of summer, things are pretty busy here. Thanks for the continuing interest, guys. You've really awakened this curiosity in me that I didn't know I had. Part 5. I apologize for the short update, guys. Things have gotten a little crazy around here. I'm not sure how often I'll be able to update going forward. I really appreciate all the support you guys have given me. And while I only have a couple of stories to share with you, I'll be interested to see what you all think. A firefighter who is helping us at the training noff told me about a call he'd gone on, supposedly to help rescue a kid from an absolutely

massive tree. He said they didn't give him details, just that they needed him to come out and help because they lacked the proper equipment. He'd been called out specifically because the thing was so huge that the SARs didn't feel safe trying to climb it. He'd been a tree trimmer before joining the VFD, so it was easy enough for him to grab his old equipment and come help out. He was led out about two miles, and the team stopped at one of the biggest trees in the area and pointed up. He laughed and asked how the op captain, how the kid had gotten up there, made some joke about the old cat in a tree thing where the captain just shook his head and told him to get up there and get the kid down.

He said he knew something was up, but he didn't push it. He said that as he climbed this tree, he started wondering if they were playing a prank on him. There was no way this kid should have been able to climb this fucking thing. It was massive at the base, but about halfway up it started tapering, and I almost had to turn back a few times because I really didn't think it was going to hold me. But he said he kept going. When he was just about at the top, he saw a flash of blue in the branches. I saw the kid's shirt sort of caught in a branch. I called out to him and told him to come near me if I could.

But he didn't say anything. I kept moving, calling the kid's name, and telling him not to be scared, that I was there to help him. By the time I got to him, I knew he wasn't going to answer me. me. I found him, or what was left of him. Cradled in the fork of a branch, and the fact that he was way up there was sheer luck. If he'd fallen any other way, he'd have come crashing down. It wouldn't have mattered, though, because this kid was dead long before he ended up in the tree. Oh no, who put him here, or how, or why, but it was fucking sick. Kids' intestines had popped out of his mouth and were hanging in the branches. It was like some sick fucking Christmas tree.

The way they were draped all over everything, I got a better look and saw they'd even popped out of his ass. His guts were hanging out of the bottom of his pants. His eyes were gone, I assume shoved out from whatever force caused him to fucking pop like a stress ball. You ever seen a body that's been floating in water for a long time, how their tongues kind of swell up and stick out? His was all like that. I remember because there were flies crawling all over it. I think I must have gone into shock because, man, I just pushed it. that kid down with a stick I broke off a branch, just kind of poked him until he fell.

I don't know why I did that. I almost lost my job because of that. But man, the thought of hauling that kid down all over my shoulder the whole way, gathering his guts up and coaling them all around me like rope so they wouldn't get snagged, I couldn't do it. I've seen a lot of dead kids more than I'd ever admit. I've seen a kid who hidden a full bathtub during a house fire, boiled him alive, turned him into literal soup. But this, I don't know, what did this? But the thought of touching the kid's body made me feel like I was going to lose my mind. I heard him hit the ground and I figured everyone would freak out,

but they knew he was dead when they sent me up there. They didn't say anything, but they didn't shout or freak or anything. I got to the bottom and I started to get up in the captain's face, asking him who he thought he was sending me up there when they knew damn well the kid was dead. But he just told me it was none of my concern and thanked me for getting the evidence down. I remember he said that. I remember it specifically because it was so weird to hear a phrase that way. The evidence.

Like he wasn't even a person. Like he'd never been a little kid who got lost and had something fucking unspeakable happen to him. The captain had a crew lead me back out of the woods, but he and two others stayed behind and I thought that was weird. Why wouldn't they have me help get the kid out? I tried to ask him, but the guy's leading me out just told me they couldn't discuss an open case. I asked him what he thought had happened to the kid, and he got really pensive and thought about it for a bit. I would have said it was a crush injury based on how his guts come out like that, but with those injuries you see massive contusions under the skin, obvious trauma. This wasn't like that.

It was almost like that kid got caught in a big vacuum and had his guts sucked out. But even then there was no trauma, none at all. It bothers me, man. It bothers the hell out of me. One of the vets at the training op reads No Sleep, and he recognized my stories. He knows me pretty well, and we've swapped stories before. He asked if he could share something he's noticed about the stairs and some thoughts he had. I'm really glad he decided to share these.

I think it's a point that people will be aware of what's out there, especially since the Forest Service is doing such a good job at covering it all up. I asked him what he meant. What do you mean? What do I mean? The lack of any good media attention. No coverage of missing kids or bodies found miles from where they got lost in the first place. David Paldives hit this right on the head.

The Forest Service is doing everything they can to keep people coming here, even if it isn't safe. I mean, to be fair, it's not like these things happen every day, but the numbers add up, and it's worth looking into. Especially the stairs. I was surprised he didn't mention the flipped ones. I didn't know what he was talking about. I couldn't remember him ever talking about something like that. He seemed somewhat incredulous. Dude, I can't believe you've been on this long without seeing them.

No one told you about them? I shrugged and asked him to elaborate. Well, there's normal stairs, the ones that pop up when we're out of ways. I know you know about them, but sometimes if run across ones that are flipped upside down, I guess it would look like if you had a dollhouse and the stairs were a separate piece. Now take that, flip it upside down, so the top step is stuck in the dirt and put it out in the woods. They're like that. I don't see them as often, but they're odd, to say the least.

Makes me think of footage taken after a tornado when houses are all blowing apart and random things are left standing, like chimneys and garden walls. Those ones freak me out more than the normal ones because I can't really write those off as easily. I don't scare very easily, like most of us who work out here. But that idea stuck with me, and it bothers me. I'm going to try to find out more about them.

He also mentioned how many people were bothered by the guy with no face. He got really excited and told me he'd seen something similar. I was out on a training exercise a few years ago. I was camped out in my tent, and I heard someone walking around outside of the camp. We're told not to wander far, which, you know, so I wondered if maybe it was a rookie who'd gotten up to pee and couldn't find his way back. Remember that guy in our group a few years back who almost fell off the damn mountain? Well, I'm paranoid about that happening again, so I got up to see what was going on.

I went to the edge of camp, and I called to whoever it was, and told them that camp was this way. But they kept going back out into the woods, so I went after them. I know it was stupid, but I was half asleep, and I really didn't want to deal with some idiot getting hurt. I followed this thing on a dead straight course for about a mile, and then it stopped on the edge of a little river. I could see the outline of it because the water was reflecting the moon, and it looked like just an ordinary guy. He had a pack on, and it looked like he was facing me. I asked if he was okay, if he needed help, and he cocked his head like he didn't understand me.

I always have my pocket knife on me, and it's got a little thumb light attached to it, so I turned that on and lit up his chest, so I wouldn't blind him. He was breathing slow and deep, so I wondered if he was sleepwalking. I went closer and asked him again if he was okay. I moved the light up, and something didn't seem right, so I stopped. And I sort of figured out gradually that that's what was bothering me. It was like he was pretending to breathe, but not actually doing it. His breaths were too even and deep, and all his movements were exaggerated, like his shoulders

going up and his chest moving. I told him to identify himself, and he made this muffled noise. I moved the light up, and I shit you not, the guy had no face, just smooth skin. I freaked out, and I sort of fumbled my light, but I saw him move towards me, but he didn't actually move. I don't know how to explain it, but one second he was at the edge of the river, and the next he was five feet from me. I never looked away or blinked.

It was like he moved so fast my brain couldn't keep up. I tripped and fell on my ass and I could see the slime open up on his throat. It stretched up to his ears and his head tilted back and he smiled at me with his throat. There wasn't any blood, just this gaping dark hole. I swear he smiled at me with this gash in his throat. I got up and I ran as fast as I could back to camp. I couldn't hear him following me, but I felt like he was always right behind me. Even though when I looked back, I couldn't see him.

I calmed down when I got back to camp. camp. The fire was still going, and I guess that pack mentally of being with other people made me stop and breathe a little. I waited by the fire to see if he'd followed me there, but I didn't hear anything else for a few hours, so I went back to bed. I know it sounds weird, but the whole thing was just so surreal that it was almost like I immediately wrote it off as my imagination. We were telling ghost stories one night before bed just to scare each other and poke fun at whoever got creeped out. Most of the time it's just the rookies, but one woman told a story that actually managed to get under my skin a bit.

I know the same was true for others. She said it was true, but then again, every ghost story told her out of campfire is true. Somehow, though, I don't think she was making it up. Had that ring of truth that was only really traumatizing events after. She said that when she was a kid, she and her friend used to go out in the woods behind her house a lot. She lived in northern Maine,

where there's a lot of dense, unpopulated national forest. She said the woods up there aren't like they are here. They're so thick in places that the trees block out the sun almost completely. She and her friend grew up there, so they weren't scared of being out there alone, but they did always maintain a sense of caution in certain areas. She said it was never really talked about, but they always knew not to go more than a mile or two beyond their homes. The adults never said why, but it was an unspoken rule that no one ventured out that far.

She and her friend made up stories about bears as big as houses that lived out there, and they used to scare each other by hiding and making growling noises while the other searched for them. She said one summer there was a series of awful storms that blew down a lot of trees and set one part of the forest a few miles behind her house on fire. Fire crews got it under control, but she said some of them came back not quite the same. It was like they'd been to war. You could tell who'd really gotten scared because did the same look on their faces. I think it's called shell shock.

My friend and I said they were like walking dead people. They didn't smile or say anything if you went up to them. And most of them left town as soon as everything was over. I asked my parents about it, but they said they didn't know what I was talking about. Once everyone was told his woods were safe again, my friend and I decided to try and hike out to where the fire had been. We didn't tell our parents where we were going, and it was pretty exciting to think that we were disobeying them like that.

We hiked out about two miles or so. We started seeing burnt trees and stuff. I remember my friends got really upset because we found the skeleton of a deer curled up under a tree, and I practically had to drag her away. She wanted to bury it, but I didn't want her touching it because the antlers were weird. I can't remember why. I just remember thinking that there was something wrong with them. I didn't want either of us going near it. The farther we went, the more burnt everything got. Eventually there were no standing trees, and it was like being on another planet, almost nothing green, just brown and black everywhere. We were standing there looking at

at it all, and we both heard someone shouting in the distance. I panicked because I thought it was my He was going to tell me I was grounded. My friend broke off and went to hide behind a big rock because she said she didn't want to be caught out there. Her parents had forbidden her to come out in the woods at all and she lied and told them we were going to a movie. I followed her and we kept listening. I could hear this voice getting closer and I realized they were calling for help. I thought maybe it was a hiker who'd gotten lost in any directions back to town. That used to happen all the time, so I was used to helping people out.

I heard him following my voice, so I kept calling out until I saw him running at the distance. He got closer and I could see that his face was all red. I told my friend had given me her pack because she had a first aid kit. She made this noise like she was grossed out and she asked if I saw his face. I told her to shut up and I jogged up to meet him. I stopped about halfway and when he stopped in front of me, I could see that his nose and lips are part of his forehead were all gone. It was like they had been sliced clean off.

He was bleeding bad. I saw that the knees of his pants were red too. I took a step back and I was too scared to move much and he grabbed my shoulders. It felt like I got a shock, and he jerked back. He started babbling, and I couldn't tell what he was saying, except that he kept asking how long he'd have been gone. He asked me where his unit was, but I just shook my head. He looked me over and he saw my Walkman, and he screamed.

He just kept babbling and touching his face. I realized he wasn't wearing the right clothing. He had some kind of weird gray cloth jacket and almost formal pants on, and the jacket had these weird buttons and red borders on it. I kept shaking my head, and I told him, I couldn't understand what he was saying. I went to open the first aid kit, but he just screamed again and said the only thing I could really understand.

Don't touch me. You'll make me go back there. After that, he ran off, and I could hear him screaming the whole time. When I couldn't hear him anymore, I turned around. My friend was crying. I just turned around and started walking back towards town. She asked me over and over what had happened and who that was, but I didn't say anything.

When we got home, I told her. I didn't want to play in the woods with her anymore. We're still friends, but we don't talk about that guy. Not ever. I'll update as soon as I'm able, guys. I appreciate the continued support. Part 6. It's been way too long since I posted an update, and I'm sorry about that.

There's also been some confusion about the new formatting requirements on the board, which I've cleared up, so these next few stories are going to be posted a little differently. They'll be in chronological order, and I'll do my best to tie them into each other as much as I can. so it doesn't skip around too much. When I started out as a rookie, no one had told me a lot about the job in terms of weird things that would happen. I'm assuming this was largely

to prevent me from freaking out and abandoning the park, but a few months into the service when I was still a rookie, a friend and I were drunk at a party, and he opened up a bit. Yeah, it can get a little crazy out here, I guess. I think the worst are the ones

where people die when they just shouldn't, you know? Or when we find him dead like 10 minutes after someone says they saw them last. They were a fine way to pass them on the switch back, I swear. That sort of shit. Like take this guy who I found one spring out on a very popular trail. Someone comes into the VC freaking about some guy who's lying in the middle of the path and this giant pool of blood. So we run out there. We find this guy dead as a doornail, which he absolutely should be because the back of his head is like smashed potatoes. The skull is decimated. Brains are leaking

out like custard filling. And the guy's old, so you figure, yeah, he probably fell in his head. Old people fall all the time. It's no big deal, except this area where he fell doesn't have any big rocks. There's not even a stump or big branches. On top of that, there's no blood trail, so he clearly died where he dropped. Now, that's when you'd turn to a murder. But there are people just out of line of sight with the guy. If someone came up behind him and murdered him, there's no way someone wouldn't have heard. Again, even if someone had, there'd be a blood trail, splatter, and all over the place. But everyone on the scene said it looked exactly like he'd fallen and smashed his head on a rock. So what the fuck did he hit his head on? And then there was this lady

I found in a different park about five years ago, back when I was upstate. We found her in the middle of a big stand of junipers, curled around the trunk, like she was hugging it. We pick her up, to move her, and a fucking waterfall comes out of her. her mouth, splashes all over my shoes. Her clothes are dry, and her hair is dry, with the amount of water in her lungs and stomach was phenomenal. Unreal man. Gornor's report? Says the cause of death was drowning. Her lungs were completely full of water. This, even though we're in the middle of the high desert, and there isn't a body of water for miles, no puddles, no nothing, no signs of anyone else being out there. I mean, yeah, it's possible they were murdered, but why, well, I guess,

go out of the way to do it like that? Why not just stab them and be done with it? I don't know. It just hits weird with me. Now, of course, that freaked me out a little, but we are wasted, and I guess I sort of wrote it off as a fluke. I also assumed there was exaggeration there since, you know, we are wasted. Now, I don't like talking about this next case very much. It was an awful one that I've done my best to forget about, but of course that's easier said than done. This happened about six months after the conversation with my friend at the bar, and up until that point, I hadn't had a lot of really weird shit go down. A few things here and there, and of course the stairs, but it's amazingly easy to get used to

stuff like that when it's treated as if it's normal. This case was a little different. A guy with Down syndrome in his 20s when missing after his family lost side of him on a major path. That was odd in and of itself because the guy never left his mom's side. She was absolutely convinced he'd been kidnapped, and unfortunately, a ranger who isn't with the park anymore, insulated that no one was going to kidnap someone, well, with that kind of disability. Not very taxful, to say the least. We wasted a lot of time trying to calm her down enough to get information about him.

But then we put out an official missing person's call because of the urgency of the situation. Him being mostly unable to function alone, we had local police come in and help us. We didn't find him the first night which was heartbreaking. None of us wanted to think about him being alone out there. We assumed he'd just kept wandering and was staying ahead of us. We brought out hellies the next day, and they spotted him in a little canyon. I helped bring him back up, but he was in bad shape. I think we all knew he wasn't going to make it.

He'd fallen and broken his spine and couldn't feel his lower half. He'd also broken both his legs, one at the femur, he'd lost a lot of blood. He was confused and scared while he was alone, so he'd probably exacerbated the injuries by dragging himself a little ways. I know it sounds awful, but while I was riding in the copter with him, I asked him why he'd wander off. I just wanted something to tell his mother, to let her know it wasn't her fault because he was fading fast

and I didn't think she'd get to ask him herself. He was crying and he said something about how the sad little boy had wanted him to come play. He said the little boy wanted to trade so he could go home. Then he closed his eyes. and when he woke up again he was in the canyon. I'm not sure that's exactly what he said, but it was what I thought the gist of it was. He kept crying, asking where his mommy was,

and I held his hand and tried my best to calm him. It was cold out there, he kept saying. It was cold out there. My legs was frozen. It was cold out there. It's cold in me. He was getting even weaker, so he eventually stopped talking,

and he closed his eyes for a while. Then, when we were about five minutes from the hospital, He looked right at me, with those big tears running down his face. And he said, Mama won't see me no more. Love Mama. Wish he was here. And he closed his eyes and he just never woke up. It was horrible.

I don't like talking about it. That case was one of the first ones that really rattled me badly. Because of how badly it affected me, I reached out to a senior ranger and who ended up helping me through it. As time went on and we got to know each other better, he ended up sharing one of his own stories with me. It was disturbing, but it helped to know that I wasn't the only one affected by the things going on out there. I think this must have happened before you got here because I think if it had happened while you were here, you'd have remembered it. I know it didn't end up in the news for some reason, but I think most people would have been here long enough to know about it.

The park sold off a portion of land to a logging company, and it was a really controversial thing. But it wasn't that large or old of a plot. and it was right after the recession, so we needed cash bad. Anyway, they were fell in this plot of land. We had a call that we need to get our supervisors out right away. I don't know why, but they ended up sending me and a few other guys along with the heads. I guess for power and numbers to see what was up. We got there, and all these guys were crowded around a tree that they've just cut down.

They're all pissed and freaking out, and the foreman comes over and says he wants to know what we think we're up to. What the hell we all think this is, some kind of sick, joke, we've got a lot of fucking nerve pulling this shit. We bought this land fair and square. Well, we don't know what the hell he's talking about, so he brings us over to this felled tree and points at it and tells us that when they cut it down, it was just like this. And they'll be damned if they put it there. The inside of the tree was all rotted out and hollow in one spot.

When they cut it down, it had exposed that chamber. Inside it is a hand, like a perfectly severed hand. and looks like it's actually fused with the inside of the tree. Well, now we think they're pulling a joke. So we tell them that we don't like being fucked with, and we start to leave. But they tell us they've already called the cops and that they'll go right ahead to the media if we don't stick around. Well, that gets the head's attention, so they stick around and talk to the police about it. Everyone is denying that they put the hand in there.

And besides, how do anyone have done it? It's clearly a real hand, but it's not mummified or skeletal. It's brand new, probably not even a day old. And it is definitely fused with the wood. You can see that it's coming right out of it. The loggers, they insist that they didn't put it there. Somehow, this fresh human hand ended up fused to the inside of this living tree. The cops have them cut up that section of the tree into a movable chunk.

Then they take the hand away and the area is closed off. It was a pretty big investigation, but I know they didn't finally get any answers. Now it's become this legend, and as far as I know, We haven't sold any more property for logging. As you all know, I went to a training seminar recently and heard some amazing and horrible things there. One of the guys I talked to while I was there told me a story when we were all around the campfire one night.

We were both pretty drunk. You'll see a pattern here. And we were swapping stories. He told me this one. Me and another guy were out on a field search because some campers reported screaming noises at night. So we head out there to look for whatever fucking mountain lion has wandered into the area and I'm pissed.

We've had three of them show up in the camping areas that year alone and I'm getting tired as hell of constantly having to deal with them. Plus, I just don't like them anyway. They're pain in the ass and they're loud and they scare the shit out of me. Fucking cats. Pieces of shit. I'm groan about it to a guy I'm with and he thinks it's real fucking riot. So we're seeing all these broken branches and what looks like dens.

We're pretty sure we know where this thing is. I call in and they tell me to confirm if possible. Which, you know, just means they want you to step in a big pile of shit and use that as proof. I'm not seeing any, though. So I basically just tell them to shove it. I'm done. We know that damn thing's out there somewhere. Even if I'm not stepping in its shit or inside its mouth or whatever.

Guy, I'm with, wanders off to take a piss or whatever. I stay behind watching this little burrow under a tree to see if maybe a fox or something is living under it. Because I love foxes, man. They're cute as hell. But anyway, I'm watching this tree. I start hearing branches cracking, and it's coming from the direction my partner went opposite of. Now I've got my pistol, but you and I both know that's not going to do shit against a cat. I cock it and holler for my partner to get his dumb ass back, but he's too far and he can't hear me.

I stand up and get my sights on where this thing is approaching, and I shit you not, man. I just about pied myself. This guy is coming towards me, and he's back flipping through the fucking woods. Like instead of walking, he's doing these crazy fucking backflips. and I swear to God he cleared every fucking log and bush in his path. It was like he knew right where he was going. I yelled the guy to stop right where he is, that I'm pointing a gun at him. But he just keeps coming.

I just kind of lost it. I shot at the ground in front of him, and it was a dumb fucking thing to do. But man, I didn't want this guy anywhere near me. When I fired, he was just about 50 yards from me. And as soon as the gun goes off, he rolls around and goes off, back flipping back into the woods. My partner hears my gun go off and runs back and asks what's up. I tell him there's some fucking weird out here, hopped up on God knows what, and we need to get the hell out of dodge.

I let the cops know what happened. I didn't get in trouble for firing, but, man, I don't know what that motherfucker was on, but I've never seen anything like that before. Shit was absolutely butt-fuck crazy. I think we can agree that there's stuff going on out here in the woods. Well, I'm not going to spout off about what I'm going to. could be or offer any theories, but I want people to take away from all of this that is so damn important to be safe while you're out there. I know a lot of you think you're invincible, but the fact

is that you can die out there, or be hurt, or go missing. It's easier than you'd ever imagine. I apologize for this relatively short update, guys. I'll do my absolute best to continue this series as soon as possible. Thanks for all continuing your support. It means the world to me. Part 7. One of the topics that I get asked about a lot. Here and in real life involve things like the Rake, the Wendigo, and other related legends. I can't honestly say that I know a lot about any of them, but based on some light reading I did, I can say that I've heard stories that seem to be loosely related to them. You've heard the old adage that legends like that come from somewhere, and I'm not sure if that's true. But as you all know, I do try to take things with a grain of

salt. You have to out here. It's sort of like working in a hospital, I'd imagine. You can spend all day thinking about how many people have died there and how there are probably ghosts or whatever you want to call them all over the place, but it doesn't do you any good. It just makes it harder to do your job. I think a lot of us feel that way. And that's why we try to just go about our work like everything's fine. Once you get paranoid, there's not really any going back. And a lot of cadets quit because of it. My park especially seems to have a high turnover rate because the cadets graduate and get so freaked out about everything and they can't seem to let it go. You have to learn to internalize things and shut off. I've talked to KD a bit about

her experience because I wanted to know what she thought about the wind ago. She didn't really have anything in any particular to say about it aside from that she didn't want to think about it that much. But she told my friend of hers that had something similar happen. I contacted this person, H. Over Skype, and they agreed to to talk to me for a bit. They're aware of my work here and they're fine with me posting the story exactly as they wrote it. I grew up in Central Oregon and there's a reservation called Warm Springs about two or so hours from where I lived. I only mentioned that because a lot of people in my area have friends there and a lot of land in that area belongs to that tribe. When I was a kid, we used to go

camping up there, not on the res of course, but in that area. I met a lot of kids who grew up there. I got to know one kid really well. His name was Nolan. We ended up hanging out of our out of a lot when our families were in the area. Our folks got to know each other, so we'd all get in touch and camp around the same time. We'd camp for about two weeks, so we were out there for a long time. I asked him if he camped an RV. Yeah, my dad had one, so I guess it wasn't really camping, but we'd take our tents and stuff and set them up out away from camp most nights. I didn't like sleeping in there because I like being outside. We talked for a bit out of camping. So anyway, sorry. One year, no one and I were out there. I think we must have been like 12 or so. One of the

to go out and camp near the river because we wanted to try night fishing. I think we must have been about a third of a mile from the camp, fair enough away that we couldn't hear or see anyone else. I remember that. We were messing around most of the day. I don't really remember much about it, but we ended up building a fire at some point, and I was really impressed because he had this flint or something that he used to start it. I'd never seen anyone do that before, so I thought it was pretty cool. I got him to teach me how to do it, and we lit some stuff on fire, which looking back on it was really stupid because it was the middle of fucking summer. And if I remember right, the fire warning was either at yellow, orange, but thankfully we didn't start anything major. And when

it got dark, we sat around and talked about whatever it is 12 year olds talk about. I don't really remember. What I do remember is that at some point, he looked over my shoulder at the river and asked me if I could see something. The way our camp was set up, we were about 10 feet from the river, and we were at the widest point, so it was probably about 20 feet to the other bank. It gets hot up there in the summer, but the water's still cold, which is important. I look over my shoulder and I could see something waiting into the river on the other side. From where we were, it looked like a deer, but we couldn't really tell because of the fire. I got up to look closer and I saw a pair of antlers, so I figured it was a buck.

But I thought I was weird that it was waiting into the water, and it was definitely heading for us. And I asked Nolan what he thought we should do. He's looking at the fire with this weird expression, and he tells me to sit down and shut up, so I do, because I'd never seen him act that way before. He's whispering at me to ignore it, and just keep talking like we were, but I couldn't think of anything to say. He was saying something about an episode of some show,

but I could hear the deer coming through the water, so I wasn't really paying any attention. I kept trying to see over his shoulder, but every time I did, he'd sort of hit me on the arm and make me look at him. I wasn't really scared, I remember. I was just sort of confused. But then I hear the deer come out of the water,

and I could kind of make out what it looked like. and I realized it wasn't a deer because whatever it was was walking on two legs. I started to get up. I was super freaked out, but Nolan just yanked me back down and talked louder about this television show. I could tell he was just as scared as I was, probably even more. He leaned in and poked the fire with a stick, and he whispered that whatever I do, I can't speak to it. I could see it come closer and stood right behind Nolan's back. I was about ready to pee my pants and I think I'd probably have run if I'd been alone.

but I didn't want to leave Nolan, so I kept sitting really still and sneaking glances at it. It wasn't that tall, but the way it carried itself was just wrong. Like its center of balance was screwed up. I can't really describe it, but it was kind of like it kept shifting too far forward. It just stood there behind Nolan for a long time. And eventually Nolan ran out of things to say, and we just kind of sat there for a second. The fire was making noise, but I thought I could hear this thing talking in a really low voice. I couldn't hear what he was saying, and I leaned forward to the same.

tiny bit. And I actually did pee my pants when it leaned forward too. I couldn't see its face, but I saw its eyes. They were cloudy and milky, and if you want to know what they looked like, find that scene from Lord of the Rings where Frodo falls into that lake and all the dead people are floating toward them. That's what its eyes looked like. So all I saw were these two white eyes floating above Nolan's head, in the really vague shape of the antlers coming out of its head. I don't know what my face looked like, but at exactly the same time Nolan and and I fucking booked it out of there. We ran nonstop until we got back to the main camp.

My pants were soaked with pee, so I took them off as we were running and I threw them in the bushes. We all stopped once we were in front of my RV. We couldn't see anything chasing us, so we stood there and caught her breath. I asked him what that thing was, but he said he didn't know. He said his grandpa had been warned him that if anything ever came up to him when he was out in the desert,

he was never, ever supposed to talk to it or listened to anything it had to say. I wanted to know if he'd heard it talking to. too. And he said that the only thing he'd be able to understand was, help you. I think we ended up sleeping in the RV with my parents, and the next night, we went back out and didn't see anything. That does remind me in a lot of ways of the Wendigo legend. There's a phrase used to describe it that I think fits perfectly, which is that the Wendigo is the spirit of the lonely places. I know sometimes when I'm out in the wilds where I know there's no one around for me for miles and miles, I get this weird kind of craving that I can't really explain. I don't know if it happens to anyone else,

but it's this desire to consume. It's not like I crave anything in particular, but more of this weird distracting hunger that comes from every part of my gut. I also wanted to find out more about the faceless man, if I was able, and found a few similar things. I asked around my circle of friends, and one of them said when he was out doing repairs at a park in his area, he saw something kind of like that. We were having dinner in town, five of us included myself. This guy, he was repainting an information booth and heard a man ask him for directions to the nearest campsite. He didn't turn around because he was up on a ladder, but he informed the man that there wasn't any of campsites nearby. But that if he headed down the road about four miles, he'd find one at another park.

He asked if he could be of any other help. The man said no, and thanked him. My friend said he kept painting, but he was listening. And never heard the man leave. The second he came up and talked to me, the hairs on my neck stood up. But I wasn't sure why. I just had this really uneasy feeling about the whole thing. I wanted to finish painting and get out of there. I figured maybe part of it was that I couldn't turn around to look at him, but something just felt off. There was also this weird smell floating around even before the guy talked to me, kind of like old period blood.

I looked around to see what was causing it, but I didn't find anything. So I waited for the guy to walk away, but I didn't hear him leave, which made me think he was just standing. there and watching me. So I asked again if I could do anything for him. He needed an answer. I knew he was there, though, because I hadn't heard him leave, so I did this awkward turn on the ladder to look down and see what he was doing. Now, I admit, it could have just been my brain fucking up, but I swear to you, Russ, for a split second when I turned around, that fucker didn't have a face. Like he had no face. It was almost concave and totally smooth. I just about had a fucking heart attack because I couldn't even wrap my brain around what I was seeing.

I think I started to say something, but there was this kind of pop inside my head, and suddenly he was just a normal-looking guy. I must have looked weird because he asked me if I was okay, and I was just like, yeah, I'm fine. He asked about the campsite again, and I point to where he has to go. And he's like, I'm not from around here. Can he help me get there? Now, this is when I know something is really up because there's no way this guy got out of here and didn't know where he was. And for that matter, there's no car around, so how did he get here in the first place? I said I was sorry, but that I couldn't take him anywhere in the company vehicle. And he's like, please, I really don't know where I am.

Can you come with me and help me get there? So now I'm seriously weirded out, and I start wondering if this is some kind of ambush or whatever. I told him I could call him a taxi to come out and take him where he should wants to go. I pull out my phone and he just says no and walks away really quickly. He doesn't walk out of the park. He walks back into the fucking trees, and I got right in my fucking truck, and start to get out of there. Fuck the pain or whatever.

I looked in my mirror to see where he was as I was leaving, and he was standing right at the tree line again. I don't know how he got there so fast, but this time I know that fucker didn't have a face. He was just watching me leave. And right before I turned the corner, he took a big step back into the trees and kind of dissolved, I guess. Maybe it was just dark so he blended in,

but it felt more like he just melted away. Interestingly, right after this guy finished his story, someone else piped up with another one, but with a slightly different twist. You know, actually, I had something sort of weird like that happened a while back. I was out doing some trail scouting, and I was in the middle of nowhere figuring out where we were going to have this trail run through. I hadn't seen anyone else for probably a good two hours, so I wasn't really paying attention to where I was going.

I was just looking at the ground for the most part. Then out of nowhere, I crested this little hill and almost ran into this guy. He was older, probably in his 60s, and I started to apologize for running into him. And then I noticed his face. I probably looked like a complete douchebag because I stopped and just stared at him. It took me a second to figure out what was wrong, but this guy's face was huge. I know that sounds weird, but that's the only way I can describe it. His head wasn't big or anything.

It was normal, but the amount of space his face took up was just way too much. Like if he took someone's face and enlarged it all by about two times, he doesn't say anything. he just kind of looks at me, I backed up and was kind of stuttering and saying I was sorry. I went around him and fucking got out of there and did what I needed to do. The whole time I kept looking behind me because I was so freaked out that he'd pop up behind me or something. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I swear to you, it was one of the creepiest things I've ever seen. I switched the topic to the stairs a little later, and there was a definite shift in enthusiasm. No one spoke up at first.

There's a real stigma around a situation. discussing them, even when we're away from work, but I broke the ice with a story of my own, and the guy who told the story about the faceless man told this one, albeit very quietly. A couple years ago, I was camping with my girlfriend, and we're about two miles from the road at this side of know. We went to bed that night, but we couldn't sleep because someone interjected a funny comment, and we were dangerously closely going off on another subject, but I got us back on track. Yeah, really funny, fucker. No, it was because we could. just kept hearing that grinding noise. My brother used to grind his teeth in his sleep,

and kind of reminds me of that. My girlfriend was freaking out because I just kept telling her to ignore it, because I've heard it before and you just have to ignore it. It goes away eventually. You guys know what I mean. We all knew what he meant. So eventually, I got her to go to sleep. But I woke up probably two hours later because something was just off. I rolled over and she wasn't there. and I kind of freaked out because he thought for a second and they took a very long drink anyway I ran out of the tent calling her name

but I didn't have to go far she was standing at the edge of the camp looking at something in the trees and I could see she was really pale the fire was low but bright enough to see her anyway so I ran up to see what was going on and she was dead asleep but her eyes were open she had this real spaced outlook you know

so I put my arm around her to lead her back but she wouldn't move She said she really quietly, something like, I have to go now, Eddie. I have to go. It's here. I was like, you're just sleepwalking, come back to bed. But she wouldn't budge.

She just kept standing there and saying that she had to go. I looked where she was looking and there was a fucking staircase right there about 15 yards away. Gray one, concrete. And she started to walk towards it, but I yanked her back and that woke her up. She looked at me like I was fucking out of my mind and she asked me, what the fuck she was doing out of the tent. I didn't tell her anything. I just told her she was sleepwalking.

The grinding was gone, so she just went back to the tent with me and fell asleep again. I don't know. I don't like thinking about it, you know? We all knew. You guys remember that kid with... I can't remember what it was. Some kind of brain fuck up. Not downs, but something like it.

Someone else brought up. Well, I got to read the report he gave when they found him a week after he went missing. and it was fucked up beyond belief. I mean, you have to take it with a grain of salt because one knows that kid actually thinks is real, but some of this stuff, I don't think you could have made it up. Like what? Well, first of all, he talked about the stairs.

He said I'd been watching his dad build a fire, and the stairs came up to him. And he had to go up them or something bad would happen. The cops couldn't really understand what he was talking about after that because he just kept saying, like the campfire, over and over. And he kept mentioning sounds, but he couldn't say what sounds, just that it was loud and he covered his ears so we couldn't hear them. But the thing I remember most is that they asked him where exactly he'd gone. And he just said he was right there. He'd get pointing at himself.

And they said they thought that meant that he thought he'd never left. He said he wasn't scared because the stairs were there. And he said they talked to him, but not like people talk. Like I said, it was really convoluted and hard to understand. I have a feeling the cops didn't take most of it down. They ended up just saying that the kid had some kind of amnesia or fugue and that they didn't think foul play was involved. It doesn't really explain why he came back a week later perfectly fine

without a speck of dirt on him and well-fed, but hey, what the cops say goes. There's still a lot of questions I want to answer. I'll continue to ask around and find out whatever I can. The next update should be soon. Thanks for being so patient. Final update. This will be my final update for now. Things have deteriorated here to a degree that I didn't foresee.

I didn't know how much riding about the things that are happening out here would affect every single part of my life, and maybe that was stupid of me. Maybe I should have considered it more seriously, but honestly, I just thought I was riding about things that a few people would want to hear. I didn't think it would get this much attention. People asked me about the stairs now. It doesn't happen every day, but when it does happen, I never really know what to say. My bosses know someone is talking about them.

I'm sure that if they know, the higher-ups know. And I can tell you that they aren't happy about it. I've been formally told that I am not to speak a word about them to anyone anymore, which is part of the reason this has to be my final update. I can't risk my job for this. As much as it's been wonderful to get a lot of these things off my mind, I still love to do my work. I need to be out of here.

If anything, me being aware of what's really going on is enough reason to stick it out. I may not be able to tell people that they're out there, but if I see them, I can direct traffic away to somewhere safer. Because of the amount of attention the stories have gotten, I've heard a lot of stories being swapped back and forth. I've heard so many, I can't even remember most of them. The ones I do remember are the ones that I wish to forget. One story that's made the rounds here was about a young woman who disappeared upstate. Initially, everyone assumed she was a runaway. She didn't come from her from a great home life, and so it really wasn't any surprise that she chose to cut and run.

But people started coming forward saying that they'd seen her around the park shortly before she vanished. So some of the rangers in the area were sent out to make sure she hadn't aged herself or something on any of the back trails. It took them a while, but they did find her. Well, not all of her. Just half her tongue and a quarter of her lower jaw. Very clean cuts from what I heard. They've never found the rest of her. So many stories about children.

many of them going missing and turning up in caves wedged in between impossibly tight places. So many of them found on mountain peaks or at the bottoms of sheer gullies. Missing shoes, missing socks, or found with both in perfect condition despite them being miles and miles away from where they vanished. So many stories of black-eyed people wandering around the woods and calling out in the night, mimicking the sound of running water or a bobcat screaming. One man in particular goes to every news station he thinks will listen to him and tells the same story. He was deer hunting, had camped out in a very remote area, and woke up because something was scraping

against his tent. He thought it was a raccoon or a fox until the thing pressed its face against the door of the tent. At which point, he could very clearly make out a human nose and mouth. He kicked at it, but it leaped back and was gone by the time he opened the tent flap, gun at his side. He fired two warning shots, and when the sound had faded, he had a snap behind him. A man was stinging at the edge of the campsite. This man was not wearing any clothing, but he also didn't possess any kind of human flesh. As this hunter described it, the man was made of some kind of amalgamation of raw meat and hair, as if someone had scooped up roadkill and molded it into the vague shape of a man.

The face was lumpy, and only a rough approximation of a human face. The thing opened its lopsided mouth, and from it came the sound of the gun the hunter had fired. It did this twice before mimicking the sound of the 10-Zipper and fleeing into the night. A young couple. Out for a hike in the rocky areas of my park. Reported to me yesterday that they had seen something strange out on a peek I'm very familiar with. They were taking turns looking through a pair of binoculars when the man noticed a hiker, climbing up a very steep heart of the cliff face. He watched the man scale the slope.

and didn't occur to him until the incident was over had this person had no climbing gear. When the climber reached the top of the peak, which was about five miles away, they turned and faced the young man. He said whoever, or whatever this person was, was looking right at them. The climber waved in an exaggerated manner before snapping in half at the waist, sideways and leaping off the peak. The young man didn't see where the climber landed. I sent them on their way with assurances that I'd check it out.

out. I lied. I won't be turning it into a report because there were 10 others exactly like it. The climber is well known in that area. I don't question anymore. There are so many things I won't ever be able to understand about my job. It would take me years to relate all the things I've heard in the last few months. When I feel like my job isn't in jeopardy, I will come back. Maybe in a different format, but I will come back. Thank you all for sticking by my side and enjoying the things I've talked about. If you go out into the woods, I encourage you to be safe. Bring water, bring food, survival equipment. Let people know where you're going and when you'll be back. Don't go on uncharted paths unless you know exactly what you're doing. And above all, don't touch them. Don't look at them.

Don't go up them. I was told you guys over here might like my story about camping in the Appalachians. I posted this as a reply to an Ask Reddit question and was told you guys might enjoy it, so enjoy reading about one of the most nerve-wracking experiences of my life. A few years back, my girlfriend and I, having hiked several other parts of the Appalachian Trail, decided we wanted to give the southern portion of Virginia's Trail a shot. It is about 166 miles long and runs through George Washington and Jefferson National Forest from Roanoke County to Peresburg and Gillies County. This is definitely one of the more remote and less traveled parts of the trail, which is exactly what we were looking for.

We gathered our gear and made our way to the start of the Virginia Creeper Trail to begin our journey. We had planned our journey to end at Damascus and figured that by the time we got there, we would be more than right to get home to our own beds. It was early October, and the changing of the leaves and colors were amazing. The air was crisp and cool, perfect hiking weather with beautiful scenery. The majority of the trip was pretty uneventful. Just your typical hike, but our last couple of nights is where things got weird. On this portion of the trail, you were supposed to camp on the trail or a designated shelter. We didn't really want to run into other people and didn't want anyone coming up on us in the middle of the night.

We decided to ignore those suggestions and find our own little spot off the trail. A little searching around and we found a spot a little ways off the trail in the middle of a small clearing. It was perfect. We set up camp, cook some food, talked for a while, then snuggled up and went to. to sleep for the night. Somewhere around 2 a.m. I was awoken by my girlfriend shaking me awake, telling me, get your gun. Someone is outside walking around her tent. She informed me that she woke up to what sounded like someone right outside the tent running a knife or something along the side while circling us. When hiking, I carry a 1911 in a judge with me. You never know exactly who

or what you might run into when on such a long hike in a remote location. I got the judge out of my pack and then we sat silently listening for any sounds. A few minutes of nothing, but the breeze blowing through the trees, and then I heard it. Snap. Crunch. Snap. Someone, or some thing, walking in the woods behind our tent. I got the flashlight and silently made my way out of the tent. Our firehead went out, so it was nearly pitch black, illuminated only by the dim glow of the October moon. I told my girlfriend to stay put while I checked it out. I didn't flick the flashlight on right away so as to not give away that I was out of the tent and to have become a shining beacon of my location. Instead, I waited to hear some more noises. After a few

minutes, snap, crunched crack, it sounded like it was a bipedal based on the way the steps were paced. I turned on the flashlight and fled the area with light. I thought I saw someone move behind a tree. I yelled out and told them to go away and that I was armed. I kept the light on the area with my gun and slowly approached towards the area where I thought I saw the figure. Then, from my right, I hear what sounded like someone running away through the woods. I spin and face my light that way. And then from the original spot, hear who, or whatever was there, take off into the woods. There's no way I'm giving chase so I returned to the campsite.

I told my girlfriend about what happened and I end up sitting guard outside the tent, in the darkness, until daybreak. In the morning, I looked around a bit for signs of who or whatever it was. I discovered a bootprint in some soft, moist dirt, not far from our tent. It wasn't mine, and it wasn't my girls. This freaked me out as it confirmed that someone, perhaps more than one, was skulking around our tent in the dark. I kept it to myself because I didn't want to freak my girl out anymore than she already

was. At this point, we were pretty deep in and still had two days left. That day, we walked a little faster than normal and covered as much ground as possible. When it came time to set up camp, I found a spot near a cliff where we could place the tent in a small overhang and prevent anyone from coming up behind us. The whole day up to this point, I had a feeling we were being followed. I had no confirmation of this as I hadn't seen or heard anyone else, but it was just a gut feeling. We set up camp and made some food. Then retreated to the tent. I gave my girl the 1911 and I kept the judge right next to me and I assured her that if I slept

at all, it should be with one eye open. After a while, she drifted off to sleep and I stayed awake listening to the sounds of the woods at night. I was awake for a few hours, just waiting to see if anything was going to happen. At some point, I guess my exhaustion caught up with me, and I drifted off. I woke sometime later to what sounded like someone going through our stuff outside the tent. I grabbed my gun and woke my girlfriend shushing her to be quiet. When the faint glow of the fire, I could see someone's silhouette against the tent. There was really someone out there.

I yelled out to them something along the lines of, We are armed. Get the fuck out of here. They dropped what they were doing and bolted. I came out of the tent, gun drawn, and ready to shoot someone. Our stuff was strewn all about. They had rummaged through quite a bit of our stuff. I walked to the edge of the woods in the direction whoever was out there had fled. There was a creek nearby, and I walked to the edge,

where there was a small trail running alongside it. Down the creek I could see a light. It looked like a lantern the way it flickered. Then I saw three more emerge from the other side of the woods. I told my girlfriend to start packing up whatever she could and that we were leaving now. We packed up everything of value, left the tent and a few other items and headed back onto the trail. In the middle of the night, I kept hearing people talking off in the woods and hearing branches snap for quite some ways. I kept looking behind us every few seconds to make sure nobody was coming up on us.

It was completely nerve-wracking. If something happened, we were still a long ways from anywhere, and quite literally, on our own. Since we hadn't seen another hiker the entire time we had been out here, I really felt we were in serious danger. We had been walking for quite some time when I heard something in the woods behind us. As we rounded a corner, I turned around and saw someone step out onto the trail and just stand there watching us. It was just as the sun was coming up in barely any light. I couldn't make out any features, just the silhouette. I stopped and looked at them for a second and asked them who they were and what they wanted. They just stood there silently, watching us and then turned and walked

back into the woods. We picked up the pace and kept going, looking back every so often. We didn't see them again, but my gut told me they're still there for quite a ways. We eventually reached the end of the trail and got to where we had parked my girlfriend's car, extremely exhausted. We made it out of the Virginia woods without becoming a meal for a clan of cannibalistic and bred hillbillies, which is what I pictured happening in my head the whole time. I have no idea who they were or what they wanted. Maybe it was someone just messing with us? Maybe it really was a clan of deformed hillbillies who were hunting us.

I will never know, because I will not be returning to find out. Stay out of the Ozarks. I've been a biologist ever since I was 22 years old. I grew up on a farm in rural Illinois, so nature has never been a stranger to me. Playing in the woods was how I entertained myself growing up, spending all my time in the forest as a child. People expect me to have stories about Bigfoot or strange noises or finding some weird shrine out in the middle of the woods.

But no. The weirdest thing I have ever encountered was a bobcat screeching. It sounds just like a woman's dying scream. And yes, to everyone who's ever claimed to hear a skinwalker or goat man screeching in the woods at night, I promise you it was just a bobcat. The truth is often mundane. and disappointing. You'd think this would mean I'd have gotten bored of the woods, but I never

really lost my love for them. Nature is boring. That's why I like it. You know what to expect. That's why, after college, I decided to make studying nature my full-time career. I'm a biologist for the Sierra Club, specialized in the ecosystems of Midwestern America, fish, birds, deer, elk, bear, wolves, and the like. I spent five weeks in fire towers, cabins, campsites, always miles away from civilization. I'm usually gathering data on local wildlife, measuring for pollutants, determining whether the ecosystem is stable or if anything needs to threaten it. The work is not glamorous, but I enjoy it. In nature had still never surprised me until my last assignment. I was designated to be stationed alone in a cabin in the Ozarks. The assignment was supposed to last three weeks

in May. The Sierra Club was alerted to a steady decline in the local elk population over the last decade. Nothing drastic, but enough to raise concern. My job was to take census of the wildlife, measure for pollutants, the usual. These are my diary entries for my assignment, starting with my first night. I arrived in the evening in early May. Nothing was amiss the first two nights. It seemed an assignment like any other. The sounds of the forest were exactly what you would expect. crickets and owls hoot and the occasional elk call. I was sent here in May because that's their mating season. The elk are out and about looking for a date, and that makes them easy to count.

Elk mating is pretty straightforward. The female lets out a call and waits for a male to find her. Usually it's first come first served if you catch my drift. If only, right? It was clear that love was in the area and for all the calling, you'd think I would start seeing elk, but by the second day, I still hadn't spotted a single one. The third night, I was lying in awake in bed uneasy. Something wasn't sitting right with me.

But I couldn't put my finger on why. I was about to nod off when a female call cut through the night. I sighed. That was the second time that night I'd heard her. What? Are the fellas having a guy's night in or something? And that's when it finally hit me. I shot Bolt upright in my bed.

For the last three nights, I had heard nothing but female mating call. That should have drawn every male within half a mile. Now elk are not discreet, and they don't beat around the bush. When that male gets the female, well, let's just say that the whole forest will know about it. I sat in bed staring out into the night, pondering. There have to be males close enough to hear this female, so after three nights of her calls, why haven't I heard the main event? The third day I went out onto the trails, once again looking for some sign of elk in the forest.

What I found was not encouraging. About a quarter mile from my cabin I was checking down the trail when I noticed something 30 feet into the woods, a large brown fuzzy mass lying in the brush. I smiled, an elk taking a midday nap? I took out my binoculars to get a closer look. It was an elk all right, but my smile dropped when I realized that the brown fuzzy mass was completely still. I carry a hunting rifle with me for safety. I readied it and approached the elk carefully.

It looked fine from where I was standing. but I nearly dropped my rifle when I found it to the animal's front. It was carnage. The poor creature had been completely gutted. What little remained of its entrails hung loosely out of its chest cavity. The ribs had been pulled apart and huge claw marks scarred its flank. Its head was barely connected to its body by a few weak strands of flesh. I heaved and almost lost what little breakfast I'd had.

It was horrifying. I had to take a few moments to collect myself. This is the first time that nature had surprised me. me, what could have possibly done this? I've studied wild-eye for years. This is a bull elk in its prime. It would have stood nine feet tall alive, a king of the forest. There is no predator on this continent that could have taken down a full-grown bull, pack or no pack. Even a grizzly wouldn't mess with something this big, and bears are mostly scavengers anyways. My mind raced through possibilities, trying to think of an explanation. Maybe it had been sick? Maybe a predator came upon it sleeping?

Took it by surprise? Yes, that must be it. It couldn't have fought back, but this savagery, those claw marks were bigger than even a grizzlies, and its ribs. No quadrupled could have exerted leverage on the ribs to split them like that. You could need arms. A chilling thought occurred.

A human? Could humans have done this? But why? Hunters would skin it or take the head at least to mount on their wall. Is some psychopath out here dismembering wildlife for fun, and that still wouldn't explain these gruesome claws. Whatever this was it needed to be reported. I was sent here to investigate the elk population declining, and this had to be related. I fished out my camera to take photos. Having to document the horror from every angle was

heart-wrenching. The look in its eyes, the elk had been terrified when it died. I went to take one last shot. Just as the shutter clicked, my ears registered something. A sound from behind me, that my camera had nearly drowned out. I whipped around and had barely heard it, but it was there, a twig snapping. My camera hung from my neck and my rifle from my shoulder. I dropped the one to snatch up the other. Idiot, I thought to myself as it pointed the rifle towards the sound. I've been so shaken by the sight of the body I had been completely overlooked one important fact.

The kill was fresh. This corpse hadn't even begun to decay yet. This elk had been dead no more than half a day. and that means whatever killed it may still be nearby. With my rifle still trained on the spot, I backed away towards the trail. My hike back to the cabin and was the only time in my life I felt scared of the forest. Trees surrounding me on all sides. No visibility.

I jumped at the slightest sounds, never lowering my rifle, never going more than five seconds without looking behind me. I felt like prey, never knowing where the danger would come from, or when. I didn't relax until my cabin door was closed and locked behind me. I spent the rest of my day inside the cabin shaken. I readied the photos and sent them to my supervisors. They would take a day or two to respond. Until then, my plan was to investigate. During the day and with my rifle ready, that night was my last night at the cabin.

I was getting ready for bed when I heard a female elk call again, the first one that I'd heard that day. And close. Very close. Wildlife don't like buildings. They smell of fire and metal and gasoline, all unnatural to them. They steer clear. What was this elk doing so close to my cabin?

I peered out of my window into the dark of the forest. No sign of her. She must have been beyond the tree line. I grabbed my rifle, of course, I wasn't going to shoot the elk, but I might send a few shots into the air to scare her off. It would be nice to know the elk are breeding normally, but I could do without front row seats. I unlocked my cabin and took a step out onto my porch, rifle still in hand.

My eyes scanned the tree line, looking out for the female. That's when a pair of antlers struck out behind a tree. An elk's head followed them and turned right out at me. And this was a buck, probably attracted by the female's calls. This is promising, but all the more reason to scare them away. I raised my rifle to the sky and prepared to fire. That was when the elk flew into the air. or its head did.

The buck's head sailed and an arc towards me and landed just feet away from my door. I stood there in shock, trying to process what had just happened. Something. Something where someone had been holding the head and had just thrown it. I nearly pissed myself. I pointed my rifle at the tree where the buck's head had appeared. The light from my cabin barely reached. Were my eyes playing tricks on me?

Had I just seen claws retreat around the trunk? I was frozen. I needed to reach behind me to open my door and get back inside, but I was too scared to turn my back on the forest, or even take a hand off my rifle. After a few seconds, I finally gathered up the nerve to brace the rifle against my shoulder, my finger still on the trigger. I groped behind me until my left hand found the doorknob, never taking my eyes off the tree. Thank God the door had not locked behind me. With my left hand, I turned the knob and pushed up on the door, then drew it back to my rifle. I backed away quickly into the cabin, slamming the door, and locking it.

I hurried to the windows, drawing on my blinds and making sure each was locked. Never laid to my rifle out of arms reach. The terror I felt as I approached each window, never knowing if there would be someone or something on the other side of the glass staring back at me. There had it been, which was almost as unnerving. I rushed to the satellite phone to call the sheriff's office at the base of the mountain. The relief I felt when they picked up. You need to get up here?

I pleaded. Who is this? It was the sheriff's deputy on the other end. I met him in the sheriff before beginning my stay at the cabin. It's me. I'm the guy stationed up at the cabin on the mountain. Oh, sorry about that. What's the problem?

There's someone up here fucking with me. Get up here now. Whoa, whoa. Slow down. You mean like kids or something? No, it's not fucking kids. Someone up here just threw a decapitated elk head at my cabin. in my panic i'd somehow kept the awareness to use my phrase someone instead of something i didn't want

this guy to think i was drunk or crazy i just needed him to get up here well what did they look like how many were there did they have guns i have no fucking idea man they killed a goddamn elk cut the head off and threw it at my cabin just get the hell up here oh shit okay okay lock yourself in there we're on the way man please stay on the line i'm scared here i really was terrified i wanted someone to stay on the phone with me even if it couldn't help me. The man replied, I can't get to you and stay on the line at the same time. I'm calling the sheriff now. We're on our way. Just lock yourself in and stay there. The man hung up. I swore. I was alone again. A female elk call rang out again. This time it was even closer. It sounded like it was right outside now. I took up my rifle again. That's when the tapping

started. While I was talking to the deputy, I hadn't been watching the windows. The sound was coming from the window to the right of my front door. My eyes widened in horror. A single gray claw was tapping on the right edge of the window, just one claw. Whatever it was attached to wanted to stay out of sight. The claws stopped tapping, instead it drew itself along the window and out of my sight, leaving a long, ugly scratch. The sound was horrible, but it didn't stop when it left the window. I could still hear it, dragging along the wooden walls of my cabin. The creature was scratching through solid wood. Could it break through my windows?

Why didn't it? My niece shook. I tracked the sound of the scratching with my rifle. My mind raced. Could this thing get in? How long until the sheriff showed up? I was high up on the mountain. The drive here took 45 minutes, even if they hurried, it might be half an hour.

Even if they did get here. Could they stop this thing? Should I make a run for my truck? No. Whatever this thing was, It could get to me before I got the truck up and running. Something nagged at the back of my head, but I could barely think the scratching was louder and louder. Whatever this thing was, it had torn a bull elk to shreds.

How could I stop it? The bull. That's when I realized it. The head. It was the same head as the bull I'd seen earlier. It had the same scar down its right cheek. This thing was taunting me. It must have been there when I found the dead elk.

It had been watching me, and now it... had thrown the head at me? Was it telling me to go away, to get out of its territory? I gasped. With my mind racing, I hadn't noticed that the scratching had stopped. Where was that thing? My eyes darted from window to window, no sign of it, until the loud thud right above me. It's on the goddamn roof, I thought. Its footsteps echoed through my cabin. Between each step came rhythmic taps, no doubt from its claws. Was it testing for weaknesses? Was it merely toying with me? It had only been a few minutes since I called the sheriff's office. I was still far from safety. I hadn't moved since the call. The thing on my roof thudded from spot to spot. The shock was

starting to wear off. Focus. Think, I told myself. The thing had probably seen me through the window. It was right above me. The bathroom. The bathroom was the safest spot. There were no windows. If it does break in, it would have to look for me, then break through the bathroom door. That might buy me an extra minute and it might save my life. The creature knew where I was. I had to try to change that. I slowly slipped off my shoes, keeping my rifle train on the roof. I kicked a shoe towards my bed. Sure enough, the thuds on my roof followed, stopping right above the spot where my shoe had landed. It's tracking me. I slowly shuffled to the bathroom, not raising my feet, afraid to make a sound, praying that the door would not creak. I opened the bathroom, preparing to lock myself inside.

I was shutting myself in, hoping that I wouldn't die in this bathroom. When I heard a loud scratch, followed by a dull thud. It had jumped off the roof. It was on the ground again. Outside the cabin. Why? Was it going away? I was afraid to hope that maybe I had gotten bored.

Maybe it had found some other prey. That was when I heard the woman scream. I gasped and covered my mouth. How was that possible? No one else is here. A hiker? A camper, maybe? The scream again.

"'Help!' she cried out. I gripped my rifle, crying now. I was frozen in fear of that thing was out there, chasing some poor woman, and I was too cowardly to help her. I just wanted to stay in that bathroom hiding, hoping that every second that thing spent chasing that woman was another second closer to the sheriff getting here. I don't know how long I sat there, cowering. Another desperate scream. Help me! There was something in her terror.

She was more scared than I was, and there I sat, letting her die. My shame overcame my fear. I gripped my rifle tighter and left the bathroom. I marched to the door, ready to face whatever this creature was. Maybe I could distract it. Buy time for her to get away. Maybe the sheriff would find her, even if the thing got me first. Just as I was reaching for the doorknob, she cried out again.

A pained, dying scream. I was too late. I think I'd gotten her. I was a coward, and because of that, she was dead. The woman moaned in pain this time, just a few meters away from the door. This must be her final moments, and I listened, safe in my cabin. She groaned once more. But this sounded different somehow.

It was, my eyes widened and shocking realization. I drew my hand from the doorknob as if it had burned me. I'd never unlocked it, thank God. The moan came again. This time, unmistakable. That was not a moan of pain or terror. It was an entirely different kind of moaning. I backed away from the door.

You motherfucker, I muttered. You almost got me. It all made sense now. There never was any female elk. Mimicry is a common adaptation in all ecosystems, both for prey and for predators. This thing, it led out female elk cries to draw in males and then, well, I had already seen the result in the forest.

That's why I never heard the elk mating. There was no female waiting for them. Only this monster. And now I was trying the same tactic on me. I nearly sobbed in terror. It had tried to lure me with the sound of a woman in distress. It thought that might draw me out. When that didn't work, it switched to its tried and true method.

A mating call. I aimed my rifle at the door. The moans continued. louder and more intense building into a climax. I was nauseous at the thought of whatever it was out there, squatting in the dark, mouth agape, emitting this perversion of a woman's voice. Trying to draw me out into the dark and rip me apart just like that elk.

I stood with my rifle train at the door, not moving. I had resolved that I was going to stay there until the sun rose or until the sheriff came. In the moment I saw this thing, I was going to shoot it. I don't know how long I stood there, among the echoes of that sick creature. Eventually, the moans puttered out, and I was left in silence,

until the tapping began again, in the same spot as before. There was that single gray claw, tapping on that same spot where I'd scratched the glass, but then a second claw joined in, then a third. It drummed then along the glass, slowly, ever so slowly.

A patch of gray fur poked out from the edge of the wind, window. Time stopped, and the creature brought its face into full view. It was terrible, like a sloth. But its mouth and nose were caked in blood. It had tiny, beady eyes front-facing, a predator's eyes, large, pointed ears, almost like a bat, thin, cracked lips. The monster looked right into my eyes. It cocked its head, and then it pulled those terrible, bloody lips back into a smile. It's razor-sharp teeth, still stained with blood and flesh. I'll never forget them. It pointed that hideous grin at me as it drummed those claws on my window.

Shoot, shoot, shoot, I told myself. But I was frozen. This thing was going to kill me. Light poured through the front window. The monster disappeared out of sight. The sheriff and deputy had arrived in their truck. The two of them sauntered up to my porch and knocked. I had to shake myself out of my stupper and opened the door.

Both of them backed off and drew their weapons at me, screaming at me to put the gun down. I was still in shock. I think the only thing that kept me from shooting them was a terrified look in my eyes. They asked me what the hell was going on. I could barely speak. I just kept frantically repeating that they needed to get inside, that it was still out there. They eventually told me to come with them down to the sheriff station. At first, I refused to leave the cabin, then sort of half dragged, half walked me to the truck.

They said I was like an owl the whole ride down, my head and on a swivel, always scanning the tree line for, it. I must have fallen asleep after I got to the station. I woke up the next morning in a cell. I was confused and disoriented. I nearly wept from fear when I finally remembered everything I had been through the night before. The sheriff and deputy sat me down in a room and asked me what the hell happened that night. I was silent at first. I didn't know what to tell them.

If I told the truth, they'd think I was crazy. They asked me about the elk's head that I told them about during the call. It was gone when they got there. Just a bloody stain on the ground where it had been lying. I made up a story, said that some kids were prowling around my cabin making noises trying to scare me. I called the sheriff's office because I thought I saw one of them with a gun. The sheriff only made me go over the story once. He seemed satisfied.

He took me back up there the next day to collect my stuff, and brought daylight, of course. Sure enough, there were deep scratch marks along the side of the cabin. The sheriff didn't look at me. Kids, he said. We collected my things quickly and hurried back down the mountain. I reported to my supervisors that it was probably overhunting causing the population decline. They would never believe the truth. The sheriff saw me off while I was waiting for the bus to take me back home.

He shook my hand and drew me in for one of them manly half hugs. He gripped my shoulder. Don't come back, he whispered. I gave him a confused look. He stared at me. right in the eyes. It knows you now. Has your scent. Seen your face. Heard your voice. You got away once. It won't happen again, so don't ever come back. That was years ago. I burned the clothes that I'd worn that trip, so there's no way they'd end up near the Ozarks again. Never been back anywhere

near the Ozarks. And anyone who's ever asked me, I always tell them to steer clear. I spent so much time trying to forget what I saw that night, but that face, I remember every detail. It's kept me up so many nights with so many questions. What the hell was it? Some freak of nature? A mutant that somehow survived past infancy? Something supernatural? An alien?

Those ears perfectly crafted to detect minute sounds just like a bat. That explains its mimicry. It grew up in that forest hearing the elk calls. After a while, it learned to copy them. I spent so many nights asking myself, How? How did it know that a woman's voice? I dread to ponder the answer.

When sleep finally comes, I have nightmares. Nightmares about campers sitting around the fire, when all of a sudden they hear a voice calling out to them in the woods, crying for help. The voice in my nightmares, calling them into the darkness of the trees, away from the safety of their fire. the voice my voice and all right before we get into this next one this is a post and a lot of different

people reply to this specific post and question so i will just be reading a bunch of replies to this post and the post reads what is the scariest slash most uncanny experience you have had in the appalachian mountains so i'll just be reading the replies from this one first to reply from Tricky Attention 466. I'm from SWVA, Southwest Virginia. And one day I was driving down a gravelback road just riding around when I came up on a group of 10-plus people in white robes. They're walking down the road towards the creek.

I put it in reverse and got out of there pretty quickly. But in hindsight, I'm pretty sure it was just people performing a baptism down by the creek. Blues with Bear. I'll make a shorter story from my longer one involving sensitive oras, but once I was with a girl on Big Fra Mountain at dusk, miles away from anyone. We decided to walk up a trail when right behind the car, I stepped in a mud pile with odd-looking light brownish water. I pointed the unusual color to her, then we started walking.

Not far up the trail, she started getting scared and went back to the car. In the car, we started making out while lying in the front seat, and she had her hand draped on the window. I felt an odd sensation in my back. It had happened before when people were behind me and told her to pull her hand, which she did. A few minutes later, I felt the sensation in my back again, but it felt more urgent. I rolled her window up, but being a horny-ass teenager, continued with the make-out session. A few minutes later, it felt like someone had stuck a live wire in my back. I sat up, started the car, and headed back down the mountain. She was obviously confused and asked me what was wrong. I replied that I didn't know, but something was wrong somewhere.

We went back to my parents' house and was assured by them the family was okay. Having calmed down, son, we ate a little dinner, then started to leave. After I opened the car door for her, I walked around the back of the car. While walking, I glanced at the back of the car and saw handprints the same color of the mysterious mud puddle on the car. The last one was over the back window. It was obvious someone was watching us while inching their way to the front trunk. driver's side window. When I saw the handprints, it was like being hit with a lightning bolt. I knew

what had happened. Cold chills ran all over me. I got her out of the car, and as soon as she saw the prince, she knew too. This story is the absolute truth, so help me, and I will never forget it. Undead underscore Octopus. My name's Octo. I'm from Michigan, and I love Appalachia. The mountains are in my blood, not to mention it's the most beautiful place on earth. My grandfather and many generations of my family before him was from Boone County, West Virginia. Anyway, the preamble is mostly irrelevant, but that's the reason I'm in the subreddit. Anyway, this story doesn't entirely take place in Appalachia, but could have easily ended there. A few years ago, one of my friends' parents paid me to pick their daughter up from New York City

and bring her back to Detroit because she is somewhat disabled and she had missed a few greyhounds that they had booked for her. The drive to New York City was relatively uneventful, got pulled over for having an out headlight, slept in my car at a rest stop, and woke up in Western Pennsylvania to a misty mountain sunrise. I got to New York. The traffic sucked and there was nowhere to park, but eventually I found my friend. She loaded her stuff into my trusty HHR and we were off. Pretty much everything was going all right until we decided that we should stop and rest,

again in the mountains of Western PA. Initially, we chose a Walmart parking lot so we could get food, have access to a bathroom, and so that if something did happen to us, there would be cameras, but there would be a few shady cars that seemed to take interest in us, so we decided to push west and sleep at a rest stop instead. We tried that. When we got there, we had some snacks and just bullshit until dark, so we could safely go to sleep, but then I noticed something. There was a car sitting in the parking lot of the rest stop that looked eerily similar to one of those shady cars

we had seen earlier. A newer Jeep brand SUV. White. I debated for a few minutes whether we should worry about it, since there were probably tons of people who drive those before deciding to keep pushing west, exhausted, barely able to drive, potentially paranoid but motivated to find somewhere safe to sleep. Eventually, we found another Walmart and parked somewhere distant from the door, but not so distant that we were invisible. Talked, bullshaded, and eventually were almost asleep. until another white jeep compass pulled up right next to us. I saw his eyes and I'll never forget them. They were cold but hateful, barely awake.

I slammed the transmission from Park to drive in Florida, heading straight for the highway. Eventually, we decided to get off and try to lose him by zigzagging and changing roads, heading southwest instead of due west, as he probably presumed we were doing. After daybreak, we found ourselves in a small town with a busy Wendy's or McDonald's or something

where we finally got some sleep. That night I was either paranoid as all hell, which is entirely feasible, or we were followed for well over 100 miles. Either way, it was the most terrifying thing to happen to me in the mountains so far. Strong excitement, 35. Didn't happen to me, but happened to my mom in the late 60s.

My mother grew up in New Hampshire, but was born in Virginia. One year when she was about four, she was getting dressed in her snow clothes to go out of the same. outside. She had a younger brother at this point when he was three. My grandmother, her mom, would dress her and then go and dress her brother, and by the time she got back, my mom would have taken off all her snow clothes. So to fix this, she dressed my mom and stuck her outside with the dog right after. My mom just wandered off into the forest. They lived pretty much in the middle of nowhere at this point. The dog went with her, and then she was missing for two days. The dog

returned home. They thought she was dead. And then they found her a couple miles. away sitting at the bottom of a hill covered in dirt and just plain in the snow she doesn't remember what happened but I guess she was just missing and then found even though there were tons of search efforts the two days that she was missing and like dogs and everything and she was also missing a lot of her snow clothes which were never found always gives me chills whenever she or my grandmother talks about it I found an abandoned Nissan in the Alaska bush what happened afterwards haunts me to this day. Back in my 20s, I was what you might call an adventure girl. About 10 years ago,

give or take, something happened. I changed that. I moved to the city, got a boring job in a boring apartment, and became decidedly adverse to the outdoors. I haven't really told anyone about it in all that time, save my now wife because, well, for one, they'd think I'm crazy, and for two, I don't want to think about it. I'm finally putting it here, though, because you'll all deserved to hear it. After all, you probably saved my life. At the time, I had just graduated college and moved from Texas to Alaska out of a desire for, you guessed it, adventure. I had a job doing stuff I liked. It paid well and gave me enough vacation days to get out and do something really adventurous every once in a while. One thing I had had on my bucket list since moving north

was driving the Dalton Highway. For the unfamiliar, that's a generously, highway that goes from Fairbanks to Prudeau Bay on the Arctic Ocean. It's about 500 miles, 11-hour drive in the summer, but thanks to work realities, I wasn't able to get out there until early autumn. By early autumn, the snow had started, but the plows were still able to keep the highway pretty clear. And I was driving a 95 Toyota land cruiser kidded out for expeditions. Besides that, I was an adventure girl. I was prepared. I had camping gear, emergency gear, a satellite phone, plenty of food and water, enough Jerry cans for the trip there and back, and Sam Colt's greatest invention in the setter console, just in case. For the unfamiliar,

that's the 1911. I fucking love that gun. I was planning to make the trip in two days, sleeping in the back of the land cruiser halfway. Add enough blankets to keep warm, and I had a nice, comfy space back there that I could fit in. I'd have to drive slower because of the snow. I wanted to enjoy the scenery, and the sun was setting pretty early by that time of year. I had a good start that day, and the driving was fine. By the time shit went down, it had been dark for about an hour, and I was getting into the foothills of the Brooks Range. That's good scenery and all such a rain I didn't want to be going through the dark, so I was just about ready to pull over for the night when I saw caution flashers up ahead.

For the unfamiliar, a hard rule for any Alaskan is that you always, always. always pull over when he sees someone in distress on the side of a remote road like that, especially after the snow starts. If they aren't prepared for the emergency, there's a very good chance that you could save their life, so that's exactly what I did. I pulled over next to a Nissan SUV, not as nicely kidded out as mine, but not bad either. I figured they were doing the same thing I was, Small World. By the jack under one axle, and the wheel sitting next to the car, they'd blown a tire.

What I didn't see, though, were the people. I got out of my land cruiser, crunching down into the snow and looked around. There aren't a ton of trees that far north, and there are quite a few patches of evergreens that, while not quite forests, can be pretty dark and thick on a heavy snow night. Hey, I called, my voice going dead a few yards away as sound does in snowy woods. Y'all need help? No answer. Dead silence.

Save the faint clicking over the flasher from inside their Nissan. I shouted again. Anybody there? I've got tools. No answer. Dead silence. I considered myself a pretty brave bitch back then, but I'll admit that I was creeped out at this point. This vehicle definitely hadn't been there all that long, and there was no one to be seen. Besides that, the dead quiet and the darkness of the night were unnerving.

It wasn't that weird for it to be silent on a snowy night like this, that far north, but still. Creepy. creepy enough that I hop back in the car and grabbed my 45, storing it in one of the big pockets in my front of my jacket, just in case. There were bears up there. I approached the Nissan and saw footprints in the snow. Okay, not a ghost car. One pair had been crouched down at the roof of tire, and the other had been standing a couple feet away by the rear of the SUV. The latter pair had then, at some point, headed off towards a tree line.

It stopped a few yards down, paced a bit, then continued into the woods. The pair near the tire had then, presumably later, gotten up and ran after the first. I was no tracker, but it's not hard to tell when someone was running in the snow. Now I was really creeped out. I was tempted to hop back in the car and keep driving for a good long while, but like I said, this could easily have been life or death up here. Besides, I had my 45. It could handle Grizzly.

Probably. That was the worst I'd find up here. Probably. So off I went, following those two sets of four. footprints into the woods. It was fucking dark, but don't worry y'all. Had a really nice flashlight. Sure, fire, baby.

Adventure Girl, remember? The dead quiet seemed to get even deadlier and quieter as soon as I passed the tree line. As sound does in snowy woods. Probably. The only thing comforting me was that I hadn't gone deaf with as the sound of my breath and my boots crunching in the snow. Hey, I called again maybe 20 yards into the woods.

Is everyone okay? This time I got a response. It was a woman's voice and it sounded afraid. Over here, it called. Help. I got a spring of my step at that, jogging towards the sound of the voice, shining my light through the trees to try and catch a glimpse. Over here, it called again. Much closer. Help. Remember when I said y'all probably saved my life? This is one that happened. I stopped. The hair on the back of my neck had stood on end and a chill had run down my spine. Something was off about that voice. I couldn't put my finger on it, but it was something. slightly wrong. I pointed my light toward where I had heard it. Are you hurt? I said,

voice raised, but not quite shouting anymore. Help, the voice called again. Only it was even closer this time. I hadn't heard the crunch of any footsteps. Over here. My grip on my flashlight tightened and my heart started to hammer my chest. This was not right. I'd read a lot of no sleep back then, and watched and listened to my fair share of spooky stories. At that time, I didn't think any of that stuff was real, but what was happening to me felt way too similar, and it was setting off alarm bells. Something about this exact situation was tugging at the back of my mind as something I should be terrified of. I tried one more time. What's your name? I asked cautiously. Help, the voice called, and it couldn't have been more than a few yards off. That was enough for me

to swap my light to my left hand and bring out the cold with my right. I pointed both in the direction of the voice and finally caught a glimpse of something besides trees. Off in the distance, barely visible, I could see a bundle of something laying in the snow. It was human-sized, and the snow all around it was staying dark. My head was in the middle of processing what it was seen when I saw movement between me and the body. Oh shit, that was a body. I'm pointing my flashlight and gun at this horse of the movement. It was humanoid, with two arms and two legs, but it was all wrong. The limbs were too long, and it was too tall. Its hair was thin and wildly. It had antlers. Fucking antlers in its face, which was also, I assure you, really

fucking wrong. Was staying dark with what I can only assume was blood. I fired two shots and hauled ass. I didn't know if the bolt slowed it down. I don't even know if I hit it. I ran faster than I'd ever run before and by the cracking branches and crunching snow behind me, it was giving chase. My heart felt like it was going to explode out of my chest and my lungs burned from sucking it in frosty air. Once or twice I saw death flash before me as I nearly lost my footing in the snow, but I managed to stay upright.

As I ran, I heard more snapping, more crunching, not just behind me now, but all around. There were more. I got really fucking lucky that night. I was lucky to have spotted the body, lucky to have run just fast enough and not falling on my face. Lucky none of whatever they were. I have a guess, but I'd rather not hazard it,

were just a bit closer or faster. I was lucky that I had dabbled in enough spooky stories that my alarm bells had gone off, and I was lucky that the poor couple, maybe, and that Nissan had gotten stranded there, and suffered the grisly fate they suffered. After all, I was planning to stop just as I saw those caution flashers. I'd have been right there, in those same woods asleep. I don't want to think about what would have happened to me if that would have been the case. I made it to my car, which I was lucky to have left running, thinking I wouldn't go far.

I left in, slammed and locked the door, and threw it in reverse as I saw dark, lanky shapes coming out of the trees. As I got moving, the headlights revealed that what had been chasing me. I can't say exactly how many it was, at least half a dozen, all of them were similarly stretched, pale to the point of almost being white, with various forms of antlers and primitive-looking clothing. I reversed down the road as fast as I dared, without risking going off and dooming myself to certain death, for a good half mile before I finally got the nerve to finally

turn around, then I flew down the highway all the way back to Fairbanks. Only stopping once I found a nice, well-lit hotel in the middle of the city. The next day, I went back in Anchorage. I thought about calling the state troopers. Someone was going to find the Nissan, probably find the bodies. They'd find my casings, my tire tracks. I could end up a murder suspect. I decided against it, though. If I ratted myself out, I'd be a murderer suspect anyways, and they'd know it was me. Better to bet that no one could to tie me to that scene, especially being as far from local as I was. Over the next week, I packed my shit, bailed on my job in my lease, and moved back to Texas. I never ended up with police banging on my door, so I guess I made the right choice. I still have nightmares about those

wrong, elongated things chasing me. I probably have PTSD, but it's not like I can talk to a therapist about it without ending up in a looney bin. I'm not an adventure girl anymore. I never go anywhere at night, and I stay in the city as much as possible. I don't even. I don't get out of their own skates but i got out of there alive which is better than can be said for the folks in the nissan i was lucky all right this is going to be another post and this uh you know question was people who have done a multi-day hiking trip such as the appalachian trail what is your horror story from the trip the first one i will be reading is from user stider 14484 night one of a trip sleeping giant in Canada, I believe. First night out. I'm always a little jumpy because it takes

a while to get used to the sounds of the woods, and this was no exception. It was a solo trip, so just me in a little tent on the edge of the forest, looking out onto a small slope down onto a pebble beach. I was having some real trouble getting to sleep. The woods were just so loud and my mind kept jumping to serial killer instead of normal wildlife. I was trying to convince myself otherwise when I hear some heavier footsteps, breaking twigs. My heart is in my throat because I just know I'm going to die all alone in the Canadian backwoods. Then I hear a crash and some falling rocks directly outside my tent, and I work up the courage to turn on my flashlight and unzip the door to have a look, at which point I catch the glimpse of the very clumsy woodland elk that had

just fallen down the slope onto the beach right in front of me. Didn't die. Uranus be cold. I was on a canoe camping trip on a long, narrow lake. My wife and I had set up camp about halfway along the lake, and all was well. After dark, I went to wash my face in the lake, and I see two lights on the other side of the lake. It was only about like 50 meters wide. As I'm watching, their headlamps fade and die, and then something big started snorting over there. A moose or bear, it was pretty loud. It was a still night, and so I called out to him, Hey, are you all right? Turns out they had accidentally started hiking from the wrong parking lot,

delaying them an hour or two. And then when they got to the lake, they'd hiked down the wrong side of the lake. So I offered, and then went and picked them up in my canoe and lent them a flashlight so they could set up. I think they were pretty relieved to have gotten away from whatever animal that was. If I hadn't been there,

that would have been hours of hiking to get to the next campsite without lamps. The Quick Ness Inc. Day three of five was at a waterfall. There were a few large flat rocks, maybe 500 feet from the base of the falls, that were large enough to fit a tent. So that's what me and my tentmate did. It rained that evening.

The rock we pitched on was raised from the surrounding river by a few feet when we set up camp, but the river quickly swelled once the rain started. To complicate things, the wind coming off the falls was pushing the falls facing wall of the tent in by about a foot or so, and rain was pouring horizontally through the space where the two zippers meet. At one point during the storm, I stepped out with the intent of moving our packs to higher ground, and while I was doing so, my tentmate decided to get a look at the situation as well. Well, as soon as he stepped out, the tent instantly caught a gust of wind and was swallowed by the river, sleeping bags and all. Luckily for us, there was a few solo

guys in our group with extra room in their tents, but sleeping in a cramped one and a half person tent with no sleeping bag or pads is not a fun experience to say the least. The following morning, we were able to fish our tent and lost gear off the river rocks below. The tent was a complete loss as both the rods were snapped in multiple sections, and our sleeping bags and gear were waterlogged. We had to hit the trail of though in order to make it to our next destination by nightfall, so we had no choice but to pack everything up and hike with all the extra weight. Somehow, we made it to our destination shortly after lunch, and were blessed with a sunny, grassy clearing

and an awesome dude in our party, we thought to bring rope so we could string up. a clothes line and dry out all our gear before the evening. I learned a few valuable lessons on that trip. One, don't camp in the middle of a river. Two, lash your tent down. Three, bring rope because it's just handy to have. Four, the other people in your party might have to save your dumbass one day, so be humble. Five, get a camp towel. A full-sized terry cloth beach towel is like 20 pounds when soaking wet, and I would have done anything to eat that thing off the of a cliff if I had been a littering asshole. Wing sauce 7-11.

One day, fresh out of college with no friends in the area, I hiked a rough, unmarked hurting trail in the mountains, was somewhat familiar with on a hot August day by myself. It followed along a beautiful stream lined with the spruce trees and tall grass along the banks. Very picturesque. It was a designated wilderness area with few official recreational trails nearby. However, because it was in the tall grass, and I wore pants, worried about ticks.

I got hot really fast, sweating up a storm. I came to a nice bend in the riverway, out in no man's land. I stopped at this point and decided that the river was looking extra inviting, so I stripped down to nothing and waded into the water. Wasn't worried about anyone stumbling upon me, as no one really knew about this trail. The water was ice cold and deeper than I thought, but totally worth it. After cooling down sufficiently, I decided to go see what was around the river bend.

Waiting through the water at chest deep, I was relatively silent, got closer to the bend and peered around a corner slowly, saw more spruce trees, a rock than another small spruce tree, and next to that, a giant bull moose in the water having a nice drink. I froze, he was less than 50 feet from me, and he didn't know I was there because I was so silent. trying my heart not to make a sound while also panicking, I slowly but quickly turned around in the water and rushed back to shore, try not to make a sound. Except every time I exhaled, I said, I don't want to die under my breath for some reason. I think it was a slight panic attack as I was alone deep in the woods naked in the water with a bull moose. I got back to shore, gathered my clothes, and ran totally naked through the woods for quite a distance before stopping to at least put shoes and underwear on. Continued running until I got out of the woods and back to my car and sat there until the shaken stopped and I could drive home.

Going on vacation? We're here for it. With kids who turned the backseat into a courtroom drama over whose tablet is louder, whose charger is faster, and while watching the same cartoon for the hundredth time as a human right? Yep, we totally have vehicles to handle that. Because whether it's a road trip or a business trip, where your flight's delayed, your phone's at 2% and your dinner is, Weather is open? Yeah.

Here for that, too. Enterprise, we're here for it.