Snook - Creepy 4Chan Threads

Episode Date: November 7, 2025

These were some of the most creepy 4Chan threads I have ever read... and like I said, if this video gets to 30k likes, you'll be seeing me go deep into the everglades looking for a lost pyramid. I also, thought that the Australian story was very creepy and interesting, what was your favorite story? Also, would you like to see other long videos like this in the future? Thank you all for watching! You guys are the best! Make sure to subscribe to the Patreon for early access videos and many more perks! https://www.patreon.com/SnookYTAnd even though 4chan is anonymous and you can't even ask for permission... IF ANY OF THESE STORIES BELONG TO YOU, PLEASE EMAIL ME AT - [e-mail] before filing a copyright takedown or anything. Please, we can get it sorted out through email or some other form of communication, thank you.Sub goal is 1 million subs! So subscribe! Comment down below what you’d like to see in the future!And yes, I'm a human voice.Thank you for watching! Your support helps so much! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Hey, what's up guys and welcome back to the channel. And today we're getting into some creepy 4chan threads. You guys have been loving this series and I have loved to recording these videos. These 4chan threads are so interesting. And today I have some creepy ones for you, some scary ones and just some disturbing ones that you'll want to stick around for. I appreciate clicking on the video. It means the world. Please like the video.

Subscribe to the channel and join our Patreon for early access to every single video and much, much more. I appreciate you stopping by. Grab a drink. Grab a snack. sit back and relax. Without further ado, let's get into some creepy 4chan threads. It has been many years since I've told anyone about my experience. I normally keep it to myself. As anyone I tell it to thinks I'm crazy. I don't blame them either. If someone told me this story, I would think they were a lunatic. Be me. Just got out of high school. Wanted to do something fun.

I decide that I'll kayak through the Florida Everglades by myself. My mom hates the idea. My dad thinks I'll be fine. I had been camping, backpacking, and kayaking for about seven years then, so I was fairly experienced in bushcraft. Ergo, like my dad, I thought I would be fine. Boy, was I wrong. As a precaution, my dad gives me my great-grandfather's old groundhog hunting rifle. My face when my great-grandfather's groundhog rifle is a M-1-9.

9-03 Springfield. Regardless, I grabbed my shit and rush off into the unknown. I decided to kayak around the Thousand Island portion of the Everglades. I pushed off a small island known as Choloski, and I made my way into the wild. I was ecstatic. Finally, I get to enjoy my favorite hobby with no one around to bother me. I camp at a small dinky campground known as Mormon Key, pick-related. It was a 10-plus-mile kayaking trip to get there. Plus, part of that was just navigated through the mangroves. Needless to say, I was tired as fuck. Make camp, cook dinner, watch the sunset, and go to sleep.

I wake up to howling in the distance. Sounds like a wolf. Problem is, wolves have been extinct in the Everglades since like 1910. Kind of weird it out, but there is a body of water between me and the howling, so I don't really dwell on it. I wake up, make up a quick breakfast, and continue heading to out. in my kayak. End up going down the Lost Man's River. See Red Circle and Pick. And I'll talk about the pick and show the pick after I finish this one thread. Find a place down the river to camp, set up camp, eat and sleep. That would be my last comfortable night of sleep for the rest of the

trip. And maybe the rest of my life. Wake up the next day refreshed and head further down the river. Eventually hit the mainland. See Blue Circle on Pick. Okay, so now we will talk about to pick. So he adds this picture of, I guess, Google Maps or Google Earth or whatever. We can see Mormon Key. You know, it's out in the Everglades. No people around, no cities around. I think the closest city is Everglades City or Tricoloski, where he originally left from. And then he headed down south towards Mormon Key, stayed there. And then I guess he went through that little inlet. And then he's all the way into the Everglades now at the Blue Circle. so he's a ways away from civilization and people in general.

But anyways, let's continue the thread. O.P. writes about, I walk about one and a half miles east before I decide to turn back. That was a mistake. I tripped, fell, hit my head, and knocked myself out. Fuck me. I wake up about two hours later. I pick myself up, orient myself, and start heading back towards the kayak.

I get to where the kayak was, and it was gone. The rope is still tied to a mangrove, but the middle is chewed through. It finally hits me. The kayak is fucking gone. My tent, most of my food, water, other gear, and most importantly, my transportation is gone. I decide to get to dry land, as I don't want to be in the mangroves at night. I get to dry land, eat a granola bar, and decide to head northeast in the morning to try and get help. I fall asleep with my head on my pack next to a fire.

I wake up only four hours later to the noise of howling. Wolf howling. Once again, baffled, seeing as they should be extinct around here. I shine my light into the brush. I see an absolutely gargantuan wolf, bigger than I've ever seen. Think the size of a rhinoceros. I flip the fuck out and add what little dry wood I have to the fire. I spend the night clutching my rifle next to a dying fire.

They eventually fuck off, but I don't let down my guard. Around sunrise, I immediately head northeast. I'm tired, hungry, thirsty, and just want to get help. I'm slowly trudging through knee-high water. I consider ditching the rifle to get rid of the weight. But then I remember those wolves. I keep going on and on mindlessly, checking every 10 minutes or so to make sure I am on course. In the middle of these mangroves is a small dry area. I figure that I could rest here for a short while. I walk into the clearing and I see a structure. It's a pyramid in the fucking Everglades. Think of pick-related, but smaller. I am dumbfounded at what a pyramid would be doing this far out here. I didn't think that the local tribes ever got this advanced.

I needed to keep moving, but I just found a hidden pyramid in the middle of the Everglades. Archaeologists and historians would kill to find this. I figure I need to stop and at least look at the place. I climb up to the top and there is a pit. Just a dark pit. Out of the pit, I can hear something faint. I get down on all fours so I can hear better. I realize that there is wailing coming from the pit.

Griefly, painful wailing. I probably get up and try to get the fuck out of there. In a rush, I trip. See a pattern? After tripping, the wailing turns to straight up screaming. It sounds like a fucking banshee. I'm convinced that anyone within 10 miles could have heard that shit. It was so deafening. I started hurrying back down when I see those damn dogs. There was a pack of five of them,

all completely fucking huge. I drop my pack and climb up a cypress tree. I fire all five of my rounds into the biggest fucker there. He bleeds out under the tree, while the screaming from the pyramid is just getting louder and louder. The pack drags away the dead dog into the mangroves. I take my opportunity, jump down, and start booking it northeast. I left my pack to save weight, and I'm going through the mangroves as fast as I possibly can. I even throw aside the rifle,

as I have no ammo for it, and it is just dead weight. Eventually, after an hour, I can't hear the screaming anymore. I'm dehydrated as fucking hungry, but I keep moving forward. I find myself on a road, loop road scenic drive with a bunch of police cars.

They hesitate when they see me because I look like I've been through hell and back. They get me water in a granola bar and tell me to sit tight for an ambulance. When I asked how they knew to find me, they said some guy on the road called in about hearing incessant shooting a couple hours prior, and they had been searching since. I get to the hospital and the police interrogate me. I hesitate and tell them that I got lost and fired those shots at an alligator. They accepted and leave me alone.

My family comes up and hysterics to see me. I can find him my dad about what actually happened. Naturally, he doesn't believe me, and said that the dehydration must have made me hallucinate it. I go home and keep bringing it up. Eventually, he has me admitted to a psychiatrist for delusions and hallucinations. Gee, thanks, Dad. I've brought up the story to two other people, and both had the same response. I'm never going back to that place again, and I just want to forget about this.

But I felt like I needed to tell someone. I don't care if you believe me or not. as no one does. I just needed to get it out. I don't know what I found out there. And it will, probably stay that way. Good night, X. I'm going to bed. And then some people comment in the thread asking questions and just a discussion pops up and I'll read some of the comments people have on the discussion and the OPE eventually comes back and responds to some of them. One person says, Good tale, Florida ain't on. Did you feel any Indiana Jones vibes at all or just? just terror. Cool story, bro. Take someone else to that pyramid and get rich. You are a schizo. It was

dehydration. Fuck huge native wolves get BTFO by explore and his rifle. Classic. Why didn't you tell about the pyramid, though? Go to some archaeologist or college professor and tell them you found some pyramid in the forest. Don't include the wolves or screaming just the structure. Maybe get some other guys to see it. Take me there, Anon. Let's hum to some... spirits and wolves together. Bringing a K-nut might actually help you out of this one. Just woke up. Figure I may as well answer a few questions before I head out for the day.

Did you feel any Indiana Jones vibes at all or just terror? And the O.P. replies to this comment saying, Upon discovering the pyramid, I was still in survival mode. I guess I had a little bit of an Indiana Jones vibe. Hence why I did climb to the top. But I mostly just wanted to get out of the Everglades as quick as possible. Mind you, I had heard. heard and seen the wolves before I was dehydrated. I had a half full water bottle with me after

I lost the kayak, and by the time I saw the pyramid, I had been dehydrated for less than 24 hours. If I go up to any archaeologist or college professor, I doubt they will believe me. Finding a pyramid in the Everglades is unbelievable, and would rewrite the history of the whole region. Most people don't believe it, let alone waste resources or time on it. There is no way I'm going back there. I steer clear of the West Everglades after that incident. Even if it did, I'm not 100% sure I could find the place again. Tell me the general location. I'll gladly die for some actual spooky shit, my dude. My face won my great-grandfather's groundhog rifles at an M1-903 Springfield. He musta really not like groundhogs. That's pretty funny. And then some people keep talking.

You're supposed to go into that pyramid and find a great sword in the clutches of a mummified Atlantean king, and use it to cleave off your shackles and hew the hyperborean dire wolves asunder with the great ancient blade and your iron thews while you call out an oath to crumb. But instead you fucked up so bad, you not only failed to take revenge on the Serping King who took your father's sword, but you let the reptiles have your great-grandfather's rifle too. Why the fuck would anyone kayak through a giant, swelterling alligator spawning pit to begin with? There are campsites scattered along Lost Man's River. some picnic benches, etc.

Have a look around on Google Maps. It would be cool if it wasn't fake and he actually confirmed the existence of the pyramid-like structure off that river. And then the OPE comes back saying, I'm back, figure I may as well answer more questions. I don't suggest it. You could easily die out there. Even without the paranormal jazz.

Exposure and dangerous wildlife can easily kill you. Please don't go out alone. And please get to know the area first, or better yet, Don't go at all. I've attached a better, more updated map. Sitting at Chocolotsky, where I first pushed off with my kayak. The green line is the first day. Red line is the second day. Purple line is the third day and orange line is the fourth day. All black dots are where I camped or where I got picked up. I had to navigate through mangroves and crap on foot for the fourth day, so I figured that the temple could reasonably be anywhere in the orange circle. With the orange dashed line, being an approximation. Keck, I thought the same thing when I was given the rifle. Your comment made me chuckle. Why the fuck what I knew when kayaked through a giant swelterling

alligator spawning pit to begin with? Another A&A already pointed it out. But the outer area, where I was kayaking in the first two days, have designated camping areas about every two or so miles. I suppose something about the area is just charming to people. I go because I like the area, and I like isolation. Hence why I went even deeper. Not faked, but I appreciate the article.

I've heard about other pyramids around the Everglades, but there seems to be only mentions of them here and there. I've also heard about one near the Lost Man's River, but I believe that their story says they just viewed the temple from a distance, never visiting it. And that is the last we ever heard of from Florida Anon. And I thought this was so interesting. I mean, like Florida, all of that is so interesting to me

and a lost pyramid of some sort that is crazy to me. And, you know, I just recently moved to Florida. So if this video gets 25,000, no, 30,000 likes. We probably won't reach that, but that's, I did that for a reason. If this video reaches 30,000 likes, I will go explore for the lost 4chan pyramid. That'd be a good video. I'd make a video about it. It would be a banger video, to be honest.

But 30,000 likes, I will go look for the lost Florida pyramid. Hopefully not die out there. Maybe even see some big wolves or something, something paranormal. That'd be interesting. So yeah, if this video was just 30,000 likes, I will go looking for it in real life and film it all and make a video about it. That would be super interesting, but I doubt we will reach that goal, but we never know. That could be very, very interesting. But yeah, this was a very good story.

I enjoyed it a lot. And there's a lot of mysteries out there in national parks, especially the Everglades. So if you want to see me go explore for a lost pyramid, like the video. And subscribe to the channel and on to the next one. entities me and my neighbors had to deal with back in 2005. Move into house in the outback in South Australia in 2005. Pretty much every person living in our street had only lived there for under five years, apart from an elderly couple that lived at the end of the street.

This elderly couple had lived in the street for 40 years and had raised their children in the street. They said strange things happened on that street. And a lot of people can't hand. handle it and leave. They never really went into what scared people, just saying the whole street was haunted or something like that, but they did say it only started happening in the early 90s. First experience I had was a week after moving in. I heard a low-pitched humming sound coming from outside my bedroom window. When I looked out, I saw this tall black figure with long arms and long figures, with no facial features.

He was slightly transparent. He was backed up against the wall holding up the garage area of my house. Due to its heights, he had to be hunched over. I was looking out for about five seconds before it realized I was looking at it. It turned its head towards me, and I quickly ran away from the window and ran and told my parents. My dad went out and saw nothing was there. I sketched what I saw. Pick related.

And we can see the picture he drew. Yeah, black figure, long figure, long fingers, long arms. And, yeah, very interesting. And then he keeps posting and he explains, I started hanging out with the neighborhood kids. We were all teenagers. And they told me their stories. And all described the same figure I had seen.

One of the kids was Aboriginal. And we would go visit his grandfather a lot. He called the entities Myeluma. which translated roughly to Stranger Man. He said that the Aboriginals in the area had been dealing with them long before the arrival of Europeans and said that they weren't of the land, which kind of meant they didn't belong there or weren't native to there

and that they would take children away and eat them. He said that the Aboriginals cast them behind the creek, but since the creek partially dried up, the Maia Luma had once again been able to get into the town. The town that I lived in was built directly over the previous Aboriginal settlement. This Aboriginal tribe wasn't nomadic and had remained in a small area for over a thousand years. One day, me and my friends were playing cricket out on the flat pitch of desert in between the road and my house. The sun was setting.

And as we were packing up our stuff, we noticed that there were people off in the distance approaching the road. The closer they got, the more details we could see. and we noticed that they were fully black, tall, and that they weren't walking but floating. We could also hear a low-pitched humming sound that got louder the closer they got. We bolted back to my house and told my parents, but my parents once again just didn't believe us. I hassled my father enough to drive down on his motorbike to the area we saw them approaching. After nine minutes, he came back to the house, visibly shaken, saying he's, saw them and that it wasn't to go down there anymore. Every time I tried to get details on what happened,

he would always change the subject. And then the O.P attached a picture of his bedroom window and where he saw the figure standing. So for everyone about to call this story BS, I mean, the OP does include pictures of his house in the area around it. So that does add some credibility to it, in my opinion. But yeah, you see where he points out his bedroom window and where the figure is standing. I don't know why, but that is so creepy and disturbing to me. And he continues his story saying, one night I was coming home from a party with my friends. And as we passed the empty lot in the street, we saw these two small figures sitting on tree stumps, just staring at us. One was bigger than the other, and once again, we heard a low-pitched humming sound. We were all

high as fuck, and we were just standing there, laughing, thinking we were tripping out until we realized that we are all seeing the exact same thing, and we couldn't all be hallucinating the same thing. One of my mates took a step towards the one closer to us, and when he did, it made this very deep growl. I had never heard anything like it. And to make a long story short, we screamed and ran to my house. I'm mentioning this because, unlike the tall figures I had seen,

and I'd seen them a lot at night, these things were completely physical and not transparent. They were shaped like babies. but didn't have a neck. And then he attaches a picture of the two tree stumps they were sitting on. Very interesting. And then he continues talking, now this is where shit heats up.

There used to be a group of kids that would take their dirt bikes beyond the creek and would go riding way out in the desert. One day they didn't come home. And everyone assumed they'd just gotten lost. They were found a week later. All five of them. They were alive with no food. in no water, out in the Australian outback for a week.

What scared me was what one of the kids' younger brothers told me. He said that his brother had said they saw a light on the desert, and they felt compelled to follow it. He said he felt like he was in a trance, and they didn't stop following this light for the entire week they were out in the outback. He said, no matter how far they kept traveling, they didn't seem to get anywhere close to it. He said if the farmer that found them hadn't of found them. they never would have stopped following the light

and eventually would have died. And then he attaches a picture of what it looks like. It's kind of dark to see, but it looks like he points out his house and then here's the creek that runs around the town, but due to it drying

out, it stops around here. So you can see his house, the creek that he's talking about, and I assume all the way down there is where the kids were. Very cool that he's attaching these pictures. we get more of a perspective. Anyway, getting to the final part of the story, so my mother had gotten sick of me being scared

all the time and called her sister, who lived in Adelaide, to come visit. She's a psychic or something. So she comes down, in the moment she pulls up, she tells us not to tell her anything about what we've seen, and that she's going to wander around the street for a while and come back and tell us what she saw. When she came back, she was visibly shaken. She told me that these things were unlike anything she had ever experienced, and that she had also run into the spirit of an old Aboriginal woman. The woman told her that her tribe were a split-off group from the Tharwal and came to that area that would become the town I lived in to escape the Mayamula.

But the Mayamula followed them. The woman then showed her horrific images of these things slaughtering Aboriginal children. and eating them through a small slit in their mouth. The woman then told her she drowned herself in the creek, so she would act as a spiritual barrier to keep the Maya Mula out. She said this worked until a pyramid-shaped pathway was built facing the way the Maya Lula had come from. This allowed them to come in once again,

not the fact that the creek had dried up. And then the OPE attaches another image. I can't read the top part, but I think it says this is where me and the neighbors would spot the tall figures entering the street, and then pyramid-shaped in the pathway, and then my house was on the corner opposite to this path. So I guess this is the pyramid thing they were talking about that allowed the Milamula to come back.

And the Aboriginal woman led my auntie down the path to show her something even more terrifying. After eating the small children, they would rebirth these kids, to be their minions or some shit. My auntie said these things are completely physical and live out in the desert and sometimes coming to the town for food. She said these things are harmless and mainly just keep an eye on people for the Milamula. My auntie became confused and said if they were killing children just to make them despise, then what was their motive in the first place?

It was explained to her that the Milamula just seemed intent on inflicting pain and suffering on people. She said that they would R-word women and men alike, make women miscarriage, cause accidents and kill the week. Despite this, they seem to have a personal vendetta against the Aboriginal woman's tribe and seem intense on wiping them out. This is why they remain focused on the town, and then he adds another picture, behind the green fence is flat, desert going, until it hits another road, then the desert continues. Pyramid Pathway. So I guess this is where all the activity happens with these tall Milamula figures.

And then he continues saying, My auntie came to the conclusion that the Milamula aren't human spirits and aren't spirits at all. She believed that they were a physical, reproducing race of beings, and are most likely aliens. She said she had heard of similar beings. all around the world. And then he adds another picture, empty lot with the two tree stumps. Here's a view of my street. So I guess this is just where it all took place on this weird

corner of this neighborhood. And then he keeps talking saying, after hearing all of this, we put the house on the market and began preparations to leave. A couple of days before we left, I went on one last motorbike ride where my father has told me not to go. While riding along a dirt path, I saw this rock on the side of the path. It was weird because it looked like it was smoothed down a bit and had some markings on it. I don't know if it's related at all to what had been happening. I personally think it's someone playing a joke because none of the engravings on it are aboriginal. And the engravings on it are all over the place. Anyways, I took it with me when we moved. Pick related. So yeah, this is my experience with the paranormal. Thought I'd share it with you all

and it'd be great if someone else had an experience like this that they could share. And then the picture of the rock, I mean, I personally wouldn't take it with me, but it looks like there's a star on it, maybe a mother and a child, some other weird symbols, maybe some sort of like alphabet or just some sort of weird language. And then the final post on the thread says, got you, mate. He's going to send more when he decides to not be a lazy fuck. And I guess this is someone he knew who got a picture.

of this Malamula and here's the picture and his friend says there you go mate still gives me chills fuck and then I guess the OPE says thanks and yeah fucking and then you can't see any more of the text but you can see the figure

so what do you think do you think the OPE was really seeing things out there in the Australian outback or it was just some BS 4chan thing he was making up I mean the pictures he added do add a lot of credibility to be honest I think it helps set the scene.

I think it shows like what he was talking about. I think that does add a lot of credibility. But still, who knows? I think the Australian outback is something that really isn't talked about often, especially on YouTube and in the paranormal or, you know, scary niche. I think Australia does have some stuff going on in the outback. I mean, I don't know what it is, but I think it's very interesting. And I'm glad this post was made.

And I'm glad I found it because it's very interesting. And yeah, I'm just curious to hear what you guys think. I tend to believe him. I think he might have saw something out there. And that final picture did add some credibility. And it was very, it was incredibly creepy. And so, yeah, leave your thoughts down below and on to the next one. Amazed that someone didn't post it yet in countless K-nope threads I've been in.

Comes from very first K-nope thread. Heading for Inno Woods with a bunch of mates somewhere in northern Europe. We decided to hike to this old abandoned cold war. era military facility. Reach the facility after two days of hiking. Shit is cash. We spend the day exploring and plinking birds with 22s. By nightfall, we set up a camp in one of the empty warehouses.

We go outside, set up a campfire, and start making stew. All of a sudden, we hear the loudest and weirdest roar I've ever heard. We all shit ourselves, grab our rifles, and stare into the darkness. Something is moving about 100 meters out. We hear it rushing through the woods into the facility area. We stand there. Silent. Listening.

Then it stops and suddenly, it is dead silent all around us. Just the stew slowly boiling on fire. We look at each other and have a brief chat. We decide to carry on with making the stew. Next morning we wake up and start packing. Everybody is making jokes about how we got so scared at some bear, etc. My buddy sees something lurking on top of the biggest facility building. We try to have a look at what it is, but it's too far away, some 200 meters maybe.

It is just standing there with two legs, probably staring at us. The thing is huge, maybe over seven feet tall. I reach for binoculars to have a good look on who is trolling us with gilly suit. Just as I find the binoes, my mate starts shouting. I look at the creature, or whatever it was, and it seems to be a little bit of the little. to be running via the facility wall like a lizard. Very, very fast. By now, it is clear it is not human, nor any animal I know of. It disappears behind one big bunker structure. We decide to nope the fuck out of there. We're scared shitless, even though it is day. As we are hiking back,

we don't take any breaks before nightfall. As the sun sets down, we make a camp and start preparing supper. Everyone's a little tense, and we try to joke around. I mean, very first, K-nope-thread, part of. It's a very long one. Someone may want to screencap it. And also I forgot to mention here is a map of the area they're in. What is that? Protacanta Reservoir. I don't know where this is, but interesting. And I'm sorry, I just did more research. And it's Portifata Reservoir, and it's in very, very, very North Finland. I mean, it's probably far north as you can get. And so these guys are way out there. I mean, there's not even street view, like Google Earth Street View anywhere near it, but yeah, they are a ways away up there. Very interesting. We decided to do guard duty during the

night. My shift is 01 through 03, so I guess 1 to 3 in the morning. Birds are singing like crazy. They do that during the nighttime here. And I managed to see a lone rabbit hopping around our campsite. I would have popped that fucker, but I wanted to let my buddy's rest. Suddenly, the bird stops singing and the rabbit stops, raises its head like it's listening to something. The rabbit nops out of there very fast like it's running for its life. I feel very uneasy and flick on my flashlight and shining towards the darkness. I'm hoping to see a glimpse of a fox, etc. That could have explained the strange behavior of the other animals.

But the forest around us seems empty. Just as I'm putting the light out there, I see something moved. behind the bushes around 100 meters away. It was something big. I shined the light directly at the bushes and try to get a look through my 10 through 22 scope. I managed to see something moving there

and I believe I saw a pair of yellowish eyes. Then it stands up. I don't know what to this day, what the fuck it was. But it was hairy looking, very dark and had a face, the face of lighter color, and there were two eyes, two yellow eyes.

The thing was around, V tall, somewhat human-shaped. Although I didn't get a very clear look with my shit-tier flashlight, I was 100% sure that the thing wasn't a human, so I started panicking. Raise my gun and lit that fucker up. I emptied the whole 25-R-D Butler Creek Mag in about three seconds. I didn't even aim. My buddies woke up and started shouting, and it was all chaos for half a minute.

I tried to tell them what had happened as fast as I could. having dropped my flashlight, and I didn't know if the creature had been hit or if it was there anymore. One of my buddies picked up the light and directed at the direction I was pointing my gun at. And there it was. Just standing. Suddenly, the thing just kind of falls down and starts slithering at us, making no noise at all. We start screaming, grab our packs and guns, and start nooping out of there. We must have ran like 10 kilometers straight up before taking a break. All of us were shaking.

We didn't share a word. We walked the rest of the way to the public camp. campground in DefCon 1, weapons ready and listening to every crack. I've never been as happy as I was when I saw some German tourists grilling sausages by their RV. They were all like, what the fuck, when we exited the woods with guns in low-ready stance. We said nothing, walked to our car, and drove away breaking pretty much every speed limit on the way. We talked about the thing on the way home. None of us knew what it was, but everyone had seen it, and everyone was convinced that it was not a human, nor a animal, of any sort of.

sort. We decided to stay away from the woods for a while. Problem is that the wildlife around here is scared of people, even children, and there has been one bear siding in over 80 years. Continued, the best is yet to come. Last summer, we decided to be tough guys and find out what the hell that thing was. This time, we would go with three ATVs in case we'd have to bail out fast. We took two cameras, three 308s, and one, 1276 with slugs. There were four. four of us, by the way. Load of survival gear, and one of my buddies managed to get a Gen 2 NV camera. We also had seven pipe bombs in case shit got out of hand.

Yeah, it was kind of lame, fake operator tier shit, but we thought we'd get it all famous and shit if we actually killed it or got footage of it. Anyways, we entered the woods with our gear and headed for the facility. Again at the facility, everything looks normal and birds are seeing it again. No sign of anything abnormal. We decided to map the surrounding area and look for anything suspicious. Nothing was found. We may camp at the very same warehouse as we did the last time.

Night falls and everything is still normal. We have guard shifts during the night, but nothing happens. Next day we start exploring the woods area around the facility. We find a peculiar pile of dead trees. Looked like someone had hauled them there. We take a closer look. The trees are arranged in a fashion similar. to a fuck huge bird's nest.

In the middle of the nest, there is one half rotten moose carcass and a shitload of different animal bones. We start quietly noping back to our campsite. We park our ATVs next to the warehouse. We keep our camp in. We enter the camp warehouse and see our camping gear all torn up.

The somewhat expensive cameras smashed two against the floor, food taken, and sleeping bags torn to pieces. Fuck. We take everything we couldn't in like a minute and start driving the hell out of Dodge. It's evening by the time we get back to the public campground. A police officer stops us by the gates and checks our gun permits. Then the officer proceeds by asking whether we wanted to volunteer for a search operation. Our ATVs would be much appreciated. Some hiker had apparently gone missing in the nearby forest,

20 kilometers from the facility site. We look at each other and shake our head. One of my buddies quickly said something about being late and we drive out of of there. The dude who went missing was never found. We decided that we wouldn't go in a woods in that part of the country anymore. No, he didn't sadly, but there you go. Dude who went missing actually was found. Local police released it to the media. And he linked the actual article, but it's all in Finnish, and I can't read Finnish and like you need to sign up for something. And so I can't, I'm not going through the whole effort of signing into a Finnish website. title says missing Thai berry picker found dead in Lapland so that's interesting um so do you think something

was out there do you think it was a Wendigo or a skinwalker or something of the sort or do you think it's just a four-chance story but it's very interesting how there is an article of someone who is found dead in the area so maybe something's out there in the northern Finnish woods who knows a few years in 2008, a native friend and I went up to the Northwest Territories on a hunting trip. A little background. I live in Alberta and I'm in the Canadian Army. Third Canadian division, so I'm a good tracker. My friend who we will call Penua, which is his surname, is Algo Cuyon, also a good tracker. He also lives in Alberta, but was born on a reservation. His family had taught him all the legends and customs when he was growing up, but he handles

modern society well. Anyway, we drove for a long time. I wasn't keeping track, but it was more than just a few days. We were headed to a heavily forested region west of the Great Slave Lake. Pick related. I believe that's the general area that this happened. There were no government roads back there, so the drive was rough. The snow was also shit, but we were both used to it and loved cold weather anyway. When we had found a good spot to park. We got our things out of the bed of my truck and began our trudging through the snow to find a place to set up camp. We wanted to camp in a place a few kilometers from where we parked to give us a bit of a challenge. Even though it was very heavy snow, the place was beautiful. The nature was completely untouched. I tried snapping a few shots with my phone, but none of the

pictures came out good. It was disappointing, but at least the drive was worth it. After walking for about three hours we came into a clearing in the trees and made the decision that it was where we would set up camp. I began setting up our two-person tent. And Pan-o-wo, and I can't even pronounce this guy's name, I'm sorry, but I'll just call him Pan from here on. It's just easier. And Pan was clearing the snow off of the ground to prepare a fire pit. I had set up the tent in our sleeping bags and helped Pan with the fire pit. Once that was done, I told him to follow me to find some firewood. He nodded, understanding that it was going to be dark soon and we would need fire. We both had hatches with us and began chopping branches off some of the pines close to the camp.

The wood was wet, so it was going to be difficult to get it dry for the campfire. We had a good stack of thick branches and carried them back. When we returned, there were tracks in the snow that weren't ours. They seemed to be a kind of morphed human footprint. Pan and I exchanged strange looks. Instead are wood piles in the area that was cleared for a fire. You think someone else's camping nearby? I asked. Pan shrugged and replied, I can't say for sure. Normal people wouldn't walk in the snow barefoot. We returned to our tent and took our rifles out of their carrier cases. Now alert. We should get the fire going now. We've probably gone an hour left of sunlight, I said. I headed to the pit. Set up some of the wood. Covered it with some dry hay that I had brought for

fire starting and got to work on the flint. The fire died out early, so we tossed our beers in a plastic bag and headed into the tent. I got out of my sleeping bag and fell asleep quickly. I was awoken late at night by the sound of snow crunching. I got out of my sleeping bag as soundly as I could, but the movement seemed to alert whatever was outside, and the snow crunching stopped. I shook Pan until he woke up. He knew I wouldn't have woken him up unless it was something serious. I pointed to the tent door and grabbed his as well. Pan grabbed his as well. I practically tore the zipper down and snapped my rifle up as fast as I could, stepping out of this tent slowly. Pan held a flashlight in one hand and his rifle in the other, pointing the light in all directions.

Nothing, except more footprints like we had found earlier. Something was definitely following us. I'll get a fire going. Don't you let go of that rifle, I told. Pan nodded and held his rifle to both hands. I got a fire going as fast as I could and pulled my rifle from around my arm and sat close to the fire. We sat there until sunrise, feeling watched the entire time.

I was sweating even though it was probably five degrees outside. When it was lined enough, we made a quick breakfast and decided we would track whatever was following us. For the next four hours, we were following a very faint trail. We couldn't be sure what we were following, what made the tracks a camp or just wild-dife.

That part was written really badly, but I think he's just saying we don't know what was making the tracks. And regardless, we are led to a carcass forced onto a branch of a tree. Basically, it was as if someone had torn a cariboon half and forced the second half onto a branch. It smelled awful and was partially frozen. It seemed like it had been there for at least a day or two. We continued following the trail,

but the smell of death and decay never really left. Somewhere along the walk we had heard a very distant, but also a very distinct shriek of some sort, like the sound a pig makes when it's being butchered while still alive. The hairs on the back of my neck stood straight up. We should turn and leave, Pan stated. Why? Bad spirits walk among us. I gave him a kind of, what the fuck are you talking about, look, and replied,

Are you sure? I'd like to know what the hell is out there. Your curiosity is going to get us killed. I sighed and nodded, letting Pan take point on the walk back. I didn't recognize anything on the way back, not even the dead caribou on the tree. Are we lost, I asked. Pan stopped and turned to me and said, I don't know. The trail vanished only minutes after we turned back.

I was pissed. Why the fuck didn't you say anything? I don't want to alarm you. I figured if we walked in the same direction we came, we'd get to the camp. Even our own tracks are gone. We need to stop now and figure out where the hell we are. I took my backpack off and opened it up, searching for my map and compass. While I was busy in my backpack, I saw Pan scramble for his rifle from the corner of my eye. He brought it up and fired off three rounds.

I looked at him and said, what happened? I also brought up my rifle, but noticing Pan's face was white as snow on the ground. When to go, he said. What? Pan didn't reply. He simply began backing up. and beckoned to me. I closed my backpack, put it on, and we both jogged through the trees. We had now been out there for close to seven hours, and the sun was going to set soon.

I took duct tape from my bag and secured a flashlight on the end of the rifle, handing the tape to pan for him to do the same. We were no longer jogging, but picking up the pace indeed. We wouldn't be able to track anything in the dark. We were feeling washed all the time and kept tearing branches snapping only meters away. Somehow, though, we found our camp. By this time, it was already dark. We packed up our things as quickly as we could and left the non-essentials behind. Our tent had been torn open as well as our bags. It was very obvious that something was here. Right as we were about to depart, I shined my flashlight at the tree line that we just came out of. What I saw made my animalistic instincts kick into hyperdrive. It looked so skinny.

that its bones were almost pushing out of its skin. The eyes appeared so sunken, almost black, and the bony fingers were jagged, like twigs. It was just standing there, watching us, a vicious black fluid dripping from its mouth. I gasped for air and fired a round, cocked the rifle, fired again, and again. My hands were shaking bad.

Pan now had also began firing. Once the smoke had settled, the thing was gone. We are now sprinting to find my truck. I wish we hadn't parked so far away. We had no idea what our surroundings were, only what direction we were going. Everything was dark except for the strained beams of our flashlights. I was so exhausted, and I was now running entirely off of adrenaline. We heard the screams again, but this time it didn't stop and were much closer to us.

Us. I turned while running. Where the fuck was Pan? I stopped, running, knowing the danger. But I was not going to leave my friend behind. I shouted at his name multiple times, only hearing the ghastly, inhuman screeches in return. I shine my flashlight at the trees, desperately looking for any sign of him. He was gone. Then I saw movement, a lot of movement. This was no longer just one thing hunting me. This was many things hunting me. I don't want to

leave Pan behind. But my brain screamed at me to fucking run. Whatever they were, they were now only one to three meters behind me. And my body just kind of turned and began sprinting on its own. At least, that's what it felt like. I now knew what it was like to be a gazelle being chased by the lion. I felt nothing but fear. I have no idea how long I was running. But at one point I broke out of the trees and into the road.

I was ecstatic and continued sprinting on the road until I spotted my truck. I tore my keys from the lanyard on my backpack, and as soon as I got to the door, I shoved the keys in and threw myself onto the seat. I locked the door hoping it might do some good and started the engine. The headlights went on and there he was. Standing in front of the car was Pan. I screamed, get in the car.

Instead of running to the passenger door, he twitched and seemed to float towards the driver's door. My instincts once again kicked in and I slammed the pedal. I was practically flying down the iciest roads you can imagine. I have no idea how I didn't recognize. and die. I didn't slow down until I was back on the government road. I was almost crying the entire time. When I got back to the nearest town, I told the police what happened. I left out the Wendigo part, fearing they would dismiss my story as a joke. I told them my friend's name,

where we had camped, I left them my phone number and started my drive back to Alberta. I couldn't wait to get back home. They still haven't found them. And then attached on this post is a a bigfoot map like a map of reported bigfoot locations and you can see Alberta there's a few I mean they're talking about the wind ago so I don't know if this has anything to do with it or it's in relation at all but um a lot of Bigfoot reports in the US but not a lot in Alberta but who knows what happened to his friend and um hopefully he's all right pan and uh yeah I'm sorry I couldn't pronounce that right but um anyways on to the next one today

I want to share a story with B about my winter deep in the Yukon with my grandfather in the strange things that occurred during those dark, frozen months. Quick note, this story is a little long. About three years ago, when I was at the spry age of 18, I had decided that I wanted to take a year off of school before going to university. Do a bit of soul searching, if you will. Well, as it happened, my father decided that this would be a great opportunity. You see, my grandfather Dana had been trying to get me to go out to his cottage for a few

years now. Learn a little about yourself and your heritage. Now my grandfather is the toughest son of a bitch I have ever seen in my life. An example. When out 15, my family took me skiing in Jasper and my grandfather tagged along. During that trip, Dana hit a fallen log that had ever so slightly covered in snow and plowed straight into his spruce tree, tore his lip open down to the cheek. Once we caught up to him and started freaking out and talking of getting an ambulance, he just calmly stood up, told us while his lip was hanging open enough to see his teeth, that he'd be fine, and was going to go back to the lodge to patch himself up. As it turns out, this involved him skiing all the way back, grabbing a sewing needle and some fishing line,

and stitching his own face back together in the bathroom mirror. An hour later, he was back out on the slopes as though nothing had happened. He still has a vicious scar too. He still has a vicious scar too. He is a born Swede, a massive guy, around 6'6, and pretty muscle despite being in the 60s. He's a pretty quiet guy and rather eccentric. He lives on his own in the middle of a frozen hellscape at a time in his life where most would be retired, so go figure. The main reason I hadn't gone with him sooner was because my mother was terrified of me going off to live with my crazy relative for any length of time. Despite my father's assertion, that would be well taken care of and was old enough to fend for myself. This year was to be different, though.

Through some Herculean effort of coergeon, likely involving the fact that I was moving out soon anyway, I was granted to go with him. My family lives in Alberta, and my grandfather off in the northwestern Yukon, past the Minto Mine, if anyone here knows the area. It was arranged for me to fly out to meet up with my grandfather, who was arranged for me to fly out to meet up with my grandfather, who was. would then drive us out to his home. After landing, I was greeted with the amusing sight of my grandfather standing about a foot above the rest of the crowd, standing forward waiting for me. We had a quick greeting and before long had hopped in his truck and were making trail towards places where no roads go. We drove for a few hours. Not much said between us, though that was pretty standard for him, and finally arrived at what appeared to be little more than a snowy plot near the tree line

and away from the road. So where exactly is your cabin? I didn't see it on the way over, I asked him. He turned to me and smirked. About three days of hiking that way, he pointed into the trees. And so began one of my adventure, Pax slung over my back and snow up to my calves as we began to walk.

The first day was pretty normal. Something that was not going to last, let me tell you now. along the way he would point out animal tracks in different plants, giving me the basic wilderness survival rundown. Now, I had been raised on a small acreage outside of the, also small town, of Athabasca, so I was no stranger to the wilderness, but even still, my grandfather's knowledge of the wilds seemed near encyclopedic. Anyway, the first day came to a close as the sun hung low in the sky

and the snow glittered in the twilight. A beautiful vista, if ever I had seen one. We found a small outcropping and built a fire, set a can of beans and some vegetables to cook and enjoy the moment. I slept pretty soundly, given the negative 20-ish weather. On the eve of the second day, I was shaken awake and told to start walking. We don't want to spend more nights out here than we have to. It's only going to get colder and these woods are dangerous. Gathering up what I had, little more than a sleeping bag, clothes, some provisions, and two knives, we set off again.

Now let me tell you, there is nothing more tiring than pushing through snow up to your crotch in the middle of the woods for hours and hours. I like to think I'm an okay shape. But by the time we stopped for a break, some four hours later, I was about ready to die. My grandfather, of course, seemed unfazed by it. It was around this time that I started to take note of a few things. For anyone who has lived near or spent a lot of time in the woods, you know it's a pretty lively place. lots of noises and things moving around, not here. In the winter, everything is still and quiet.

A strange feeling when you've heard all your life that if things go quiet in the forest, something bad is near. The uneasiness was offset somewhat by the fact I was still trying to see to it that my lungs were going to explode in my grandfather's calm, uncaring demeanor. Soon enough, we had set off again. A few more hours into walking, I noticed an odd little cave down, the hill we were on. The opening had huge icicles hanging down in the front and a few bones could be seen scattered around the area. I turned to my father and asked, pointing towards it,

should we be worried about that? At that, he stopped and looked at it for a few moments before he just continued walking, saying nonchalantly, no, long as we get a ways off before night, it won't matter. When we finally settled for the night, I was sure I'd be out before I hit the ground, but without so much as a glance I was told to wait. He was going to get firewood and start dinner. Sitting myself under a tree, I watched as he walked off, leaving me alone in the dwindling light of day. All right, I can continue.

Sitting there, listening to the fading sound of my grandfather walking further and further away, I couldn't help but noticed how strangely suffocating the woods were. Now, I had spent days camping before, sometimes with friends and other times alone, but this seemed different. Maybe it was the quiet, where the simple act of turning your head to the side seemed to echo through the trees, maybe it was the way the evergreens, burdened with snow, seemed to blend into the glowing gloom, forming strange and in inky shapes in the dim light. Whatever it was, I started to get nervous.

That kind of unease that comes when you feel like you're being watched, even though you think you're alone. Before my mind started to walk down those dark roads of thought, my grandfather came stomping back through the tree line, bundle of broken branches under his arm. He said about showing me how to start a fire without matches or a lighter. He's old-fashioned like that, and soon enough we had a nice little campfire going.

It wasn't until the heat off that fire hit me that I noticed how damn cold it was. My hand stiff and slight shivers going over me. We should reach the cabin by around this time tomorrow if we came up this pace. Before we go any further, though, I want you to understand something. things are different out here. And if I tell you to do something, I expect you to listen.

Understood? I nodded and told him my dad had given me the rundown before I left. Oh, how much did he tell you? Just to listen to whatever you said and to be safe, I replied. Unsure of where he was going with this? Ah, all right then. He didn't say anything for the rest of the night, and I was too tired to ask. Despite my exhaustion, I found that I lied awake for quite a while, staring up at the sky and listening to the gentle crackling of the fire.

I don't really know why. I should have had no problem sleeping after the day of hiking. Cold, notwithstanding, but regardless, I found myself quite unable to drift off even after the moon had risen and shone over the area. It was around then that I heard something in the forest, like a sort of whispering. At first I figured it was just the wind, but looking at the treetops, they weren't moving at all. I listened harder, but couldn't make out what was being said. It was so faint. I sat up and looked around to see if something was there, or if maybe my grandfather had been mumbling to sleep, but when I tried to listen to it again, it was silent.

I figured it was just something on the breeze and lay back again. Sleep came soon after. I was once again woken by Dana as the sun had just begun a slow creep over the distant mountains. As we were gathering up our equipment, he asked me if I had slept well. I told him that the cold would take a little getting used to, but otherwise it was fine. He just sort of looked at me for a moment before grunting and tying off his pack. Once more we set off, deeper into the wilderness. The third day went without incident.

It was only after yet more hours of tedious and exhausting, trailblazing, that we found. finally came into view of my grandfather's home, built right up against a cliff face. No windows adorned it, just massive logs the whole way around. A small chimney rose up from the roof, eased a spot given that the trees have been cleared in about a 20 meter radius around the cabin, replaced with numerous small wooden stakes set at varying intervals. As we got closer, I noticed that they were actually fence posts. Barbed wire was strung between them, and every so there was a much taller post, set a wades back from the fence. In the dim light, I couldn't really make much out, though I was curious why they were there. Whatever the reason, I was in no mood to

play 20 questions. I just wanted to get inside and sleep in a warm place. Before we could get in, however, it seemed there were a few things to be done. My grandfather lifted one of the posts out of the ground allowing us to enter and told me to put it back and make sure it wasn't going to fall. He was going to get the door open. It didn't take too long. The snow around the cabin was much less than the surrounding area, making walking blessingly easier. After I finished, I made my way around the side of the cabin

and found my grandfather carefully taking down numerous little metallic things hung over the door. I could see them glinting in what little daylight was left, but it couldn't make out exactly what they were supposed to be. Again, I was just too tired to really care and just wandered inside behind my grandfather, as soon as he finished taking down the last one. That bed over there will be yours, he said, pointing to a small cot in one's corner of the room. Without much more thought, I ambled over and went to sleep.

I really should have savored it more as this was the last good night's rest I was going to have for a while. I woke up the next morning to a mostly dark room. A candle was set on the table in the middle of the cottage, giving enough light for me to figure out where the door was. Opening it and stepping outside, I was greeted to a bright midday sun. Down the yardaways, I saw Dana finish clearing the excess snow from the plot of land. It was low enough that I could actually see the ground, and a few feet beyond the fence, the snow rose, like a small wall all around us. The light, as well as something in the vein of 14 hours of sleep, allowed me to really take stock of the area around me. I could now see that the tall posts from the night before had been whittled down so that only pale heartwood remained.

Carved all over each of them were words. Thousands of them all tightly packed and varying from neat to nigh indecipherable scratches. Reading through it, there really didn't seem to be a rhyme or reason to what was written down. Mostly it was just random words. Mostly in Swedish and a few in Norwegian. I'm not fluent, but I've picked up a little over the years. I guess Dana had noticed me staring at it as he began walking over. What are these supposed to be?

I gestured to the other posts of a similar nature around the yard. They were part of an old vag or word wall. It keeps help things calm at night. I wouldn't stare at them too long, though. Won't do your head much good. In case it wasn't already, somewhat apparent, my grandfather was an odd sort. He never likes staying in towns or not. normal houses and almost always carried these little ruins and charms on strings. I always found it neat

and when I was younger I would often ask what they meant and I'd listen to these stories for hours. My mother always had a problem with him visiting. I'd overhear her talking to my dad about allowing Dana to fill my head with crazy nonsense on more than one occasion. But he'd often just shrug it off and say something along the lines of it's good for him to learn a little about his dad's culture. The point is that it only was after I really started to get a look at the cabin and the word wall that these things started to sink in. He was definitely a little odd at times. The first day we went out to chop a few trees down for firewood,

and he would very specifically point out which trees were going to cut, but only after pressing his ear to them and listening to see if it was unmarked. When I asked him what he meant by that, he said that some trees were special to the forest, and we shouldn't touch them. Otherwise, the Tom Tenesar would get angry, and we really didn't want that. For those who don't know, Tom Tedesar are part of Scandinavian folklore. They basically look like garden gnomes and act sort of like Santa Claus. At least, that's how they are portrayed now.

Growing up, my grandfather would tell me about these little monsters, about how they would chew open people's doors and windows in order to crawl into houses at night and whisper things to the sleeping person. The people would sometimes go crazy, wandering out into the woods or ranting and incoherent babble. Other times, they would just be sort of different. Either way, they were freaky little bastards, but I stopped believing the stories around the same time I figured Santa was bunk. Dana really isn't known for a sense of humor, so hearing him say that was a little bit more than strange. I sort of awkwardly laughed at it, and he looked at me and said,

The thing I'm joking? Keep that up and you won't be seen in the summer. That shut me up pretty quick. I still didn't particularly buy the stories, but I still made sure not to tap the trees that he said were marked. We finished loading up the sleds we had brought with us, and at that point, Dana said, let's go this way. I want to show you something before we get back.

Following him, it seemed to me like we were making a wide, arc instead of going straight back, but I wasn't going to argue. As we walked, I noticed there were no animal tracks, as in absolutely none. Even on the way to the cabin, I had at least picked up a few prints from rabbits or moose and the like. When I asked why we hadn't come across any, despite being so far in the woods, I was told that they don't like it here. No to stay ways off. Why is that? I asked back. These woods aren't safe for much of anyone, after dark. Least of all critters.

After walking a while longer, we reached a high at the edge of the section of the force we were. Dana pointed out beyond this now sparse tree line. What lay past it was the vast, snowy rises and falls of the untamed wild. Honestly, it was one of the most beautiful things I had ever seen. There was an overturned tree, and he mentioned for me to sit on it. For a little while, we just sat there, taking in the view until he sighed. Now, I knew you're going to be new to all this for a while, but I think you ought to know. Things are different out here.

I need you to trust me when I tell you something. Or else I could get us both killed. You understand? I said I did. I figured that he had taken my reaction to him talking about Tom Tenazar to heart. He may be strange, but he means well, so I figured I would humor him and make things easier for the both of us. That would prove to be a very bad idea. Once we got back and finished stacking the firewood, Dana broke out more of our dwindling provisions.

And as we were cooking, he said that tomorrow we would need to go hunting. If we caught anything, he would show me how to properly butcher an animal. We ate and settled in for the nights, but as we were settling in, he told me that if I ever got up in the middle of the night to use the outhouse to the side of the cabin, that I should always bring a candle. No matter how bright the moon was, and that if it goes out, out, I should come back inside right away. With that, he set a small dangling thing up on the door. Pick related. When I asked him about the thing on the door, he told me it was there to confuse

anything that I was trying to get in. Later during the winter, I found out it's supposed to be a ruin for illusions or disguises. I guess the idea is that I would help make it harder to tell what was inside the cabin if something got inside the door. The next few days, we went out hunting. For the first while, we didn't catch anything. It wasn't held by how we needed to head a fair ways away from the cabin before we saw any signs of animal life. And Dana always insisted that we'd be back before night fell. On top of that, he didn't bring a gun ever, just a bow and some arrows.

I know bow hunting is a common enough practice, but given that bears roam these woods, I figure it would be nice to have something with a little more stopping power. When I mentioned this to him, he said that it would cause more trouble than it would prevent. Eventually, we actually managed to find and snag a buck. It was a nice one, too. Enough meat that, we'd be all right for a while. We threw it on the sleigh and began dragging it back home.

Yet more hours ticked away before we got back to the cabin, and something rather interesting was waiting there for us. Ravens. Normally, this wouldn't seem so strange, but when I hadn't seen signs of life save the trees in this area, for almost a week and seemed a little off. Dana stiffened up when he noticed it too. When I asked him about it, he told me,

dropped the sled and come with me. We're going to need to butcher this fast. Not sure where this was going, but remembering our conversation from earlier and figured that it would be best to just go with it. We circled around the cabin. The Ravens sitting on the roof watching us the whole way, lying in a small snowdrift in front of the door,

or was a rabbit's head. Just the head. Cleanly severed. The snow was still bright red, so it had to have been pretty fresh. There was also a little indent through the snow leading up to it, made it look like it had been thrown over here. Well, it could be worse. We don't really need the head anyway.

When I asked what he was talking about, he told me, it's only right to return a gift with a gift. Take that inside and meet me near the butcher shed, a little ways off and past the wall a couple feet off the tree line. That evening, we butchered the deer, and when we were done, my grandfather took the head, andlers and all, and walked out into the woods a short ways before gently setting it down and coming back. We brought the rest of the meat over to the cabin, and Dana took the rabbit's head off the table where I had placed it. That night, we had rabbit stew and potatoes. When I asked about why we're going to just eat something, we found sitting there, he told me it would be just rude to throw it out and it wouldn't be wise to insult the neighbors.

There are other people out here? I thought you lived alone. Alone? No, I just don't live by people. Who are your neighbors? I thought I already told you. The Tom Tenzar live here. I didn't really have a good response to that.

The next morning when we went out to check the fence, as was becoming routine, I walked out to see the spot he put the head down. There was nothing there, not even a bit of blood. The next few weeks went by in relative peace. We would collect firewood on every so often, we went ice fishing occasionally, and every morning we cleared snow away from the cabin. The temperature continued to drop, as the winter solstice drew near. The already short days becoming a scant few hours.

of near perpetual twilight. You'd think it would get old seeing the same setting sun throughout most of the day, but you'd be wrong. It managed to be breathtaking each and every time. I probably would have stood there staring at it all day if I wasn't being ushered along by Dana. Things probably would have continued much the same way if I hadn't fucked up one night.

It was somewhere around mid-December. You start losing track of the days out of there, especially when they were mostly night. And we were going ice fishing again. We set out early, as the sun was just barely peeking over the distant mountain range, and hiked for about an hour until we reached a small frozen-over lake. We set about like always, checking the ice thickness and cutting a hold, etc. After only a few minutes into it, we heard these snapping and cracking of branches behind us.

We both stopped, for a few moments, before my grandfather said it was fine, though. I could tell he was bothered. Every so often he'd look back and scan around the trees. We weren't having much luck with the fish, and we're about to call it in for the day when I got a tug on my line. I pulled up a big trout and thought that this was great. We hadn't had fish in a while. When I turned to see if my grandfather had noticed,

I saw him just sort of staring at it. A little confused, I gave it another look over and saw that it had a few huge gases taken out of it. little indented lines cutting through the great scales. Throw it back. This isn't ours to take. Okay then. I was a little nervous at this.

Although not too much had happened during my time here, I had at least managed to pick up that, when Dana got weird, like this, it was best not to argue. I threw the fish back into the pond, and when we started making tracks back to the cabin, along the way, I noticed that the trees near the lake, the ones we heard the noise coming from,

had huge cuts taken out of them. Not like an axe or bear claws, more like numerous small chunks had been ripped out and thrown around. I asked what that was about, and Dana just started walking faster and said, we shouldn't come back here. It wouldn't be safe.

One of my more frequent chores was to go out and make sure the Ord Vogs posts were still secure in the ground, of the many things that my grandfather was methodical about keeping just right. The word wall came second, only to our food stores. This mainly involved going out and giving them a solid shove. If there was any shift, I need to hammer them in and pack the snow tighter around the bottom

until I could no longer get it to move. Anyway, that night he insisted that we go over all of them again before going to sleep. And so we went out after finishing our dinner, mostly deer, you'd be surprised how long a single deer can last. He took one end of the yard and I took the other. It was getting blistering cold out. where any bare skin started to sting. A cloud cover had swept over the land. There were no stars, no moon tonight, and the sun had dipped below the horizon,

leaving everything in inky, black, and gray. It was quiet again, like on a trip up there, where every little movement you made sounded like an earthquake. A little ways off, I could hear my grandfather working, the shifting of his coat and the snow being pressed underfoot. I was about three posts down when I found one that was a little loose. I straightened it out and picked up the sledgehammer we used for driving them back into the ground. As I lifted it up and got ready to bring it down on the post,

cringing because I knew that in the suffocating silence of the forest, this would be very loud. But as I was about to swing it, I heard something, like a quiet hissing mumble. Reflexively, I swung around while I was bringing the hammer down and hit the post with a glancing blow, knocking it off center. Spinning it around, I tried to listen for it again, thinking, maybe it was my imagination. The woods will often make you think you're hearing things that you aren't. After a few seconds of nothing and figuring that it was either just me imagining it or overhearing Dana saying something to himself, I turned to start fixing the post again.

But just as I put my back to the trees, I heard it again. It seemed so quiet that I couldn't make out what was being said, but I'm sure that it was someone whispering. Quickly and in a whistle-like tone. I really started to freak out. I slowly began walking towards the cabin. My back to it, in the cliff face as I scanned the trees looking for where it was coming from. The noise didn't seem like it had a direction to it.

It was like it was everywhere at once. Still quiet and indiscernible, but very much there. While in panic mode, combined with just being tired and cold, I got it in my head that if I threw something into the woods, it might scare off whoever was there. racing the woodpile we had outside i picked up a small log and threw it into the tree line and started shouting about how whoever was there needed to come out my grandfather comes running over my name what the fuck are you doing i told him i heard someone talking nearby and before he can say

anything the tree's near where i threw the log such a shake and i could hear snapping branches get inside right now he said not taking his eyes off the trees and so the two of us back backpedaled into the cabin. By the time we closed the door, most of the trees had started shaking. The once oppressive stillness of the woods were placed with something akin to a hurricane. That night, neither of us slept. We just sort of stared at the door. My grandfather holding his hunting knife. Throughout the night, the sound didn't die down. It was so loud and so violent, I thought the trees must have been snapped in half. Periodically, we heard things hitting the cabin wall, crunches and ripping noises from every direction. I told myself that it was just branches and

the like hitting the wall, that it was just a bad storm. Around an hour before dawn, things started to settle down and soon enough my grandfather got up and went outside. I heard him start to swear and curse, so I hurried out after him and saw what had been done. The outside walls of the cabin have been covered. Every inch from top to bottom with words violently slashed into the wood. Chunks have been ripped out of the corners and the door. The fence was in ruins. Some of the barbed wire having been thrown into the treetops and many of the posts smashed into splinters. After a string of curses that I could barely even understand, he started to calm down. Never do anything like that ever. Come on. We need to get the fence fixed before nightfall. And like that, he set off to start

gathering up the broken fences. At this point, I had gone from thinking my grandfather was a little unhinged and had started to take his native folklore to heart, right up to thinking he was the sanest man on earth. I helped him pick up the scattered remains of the fence. Every so often, we would find little bits of fabric or hair stuck in the barbs. I didn't want to ask why. We were making good time on having the barbed wire fixed, but I was still worried. Most of the posts that made up the word wall have been broken or missing. When I asked about this, he said that they won't like it, but hopefully they just did this as a warning. Tomorrow we'll go hunting and bring them back something.

A thank you for not killing us last night. Just as the sun started to set again, at this point in the year there was only about six hours of daylight, making it very difficult to do much. We had managed to get the barbed wire back into a rough semi-circle around the cabin. Given the damage that had been done that night before, I asked how much good the barbed wire actually was, and he told me that it didn't stop them, but it slowed them down since their beards and hats would get tangled in it, and they had a hard time getting free.

I couldn't tell if this was a joke or not, but at this point, I was about ready to believe anything. Little did I know I hadn't seen anything. yet. The problem was that when the occurrence happened, it was almost December 21st, and that means that the cold was near unbearable. That, and there was so little daylight, that by the time we got to the part of the wilds where animals were abnormally, it was nearly time to begin to head back. The first day we went out, and searched for signs of animals we could bag, we didn't see so much as a squirrel. That night, the wind was howling again. The creaking of the cabin would get

to the point where I thought it would collapse on us, and all the while I would stare at the cracks between the log walls where the candlelight didn't touch, and I could swear I saw things moving in the dark. When I finally did drips off to sleep, the last thing I heard was a quiet whispering, like I had before. The next few days were no better. Each time we would go deeper and deeper into the woods, usually in the direction of the distant mountains. We would be frozen stiff to where walking was a challenge for me. I have no idea how my grandfather managed it at his age, but he never slowed down. And we would come back empty-handed.

Each night, the woods would be louder. The shadows in the cabin seemed to drop closer to the candle than the night prior. In the whispering, it seemed to get more intense as well. So much so that I started to make out words, though none of them were in English. And if they were Swedish, I couldn't understand what I was hearing. On the third night, I asked if Dana could also hear it. He told me to try not to think about it.

Each day was more overcast than the one that came before. The daylight was just a lighter shade of gray. It started to get to the point where our own food stores were getting low. Our need to find something became doubly desperate. It started to get worse by the fifth day. It started to snow. Not your simple puffy white snow that you see further south. No.

This was big, heavy, and wet flakes that seemed more like little snowballs landing everywhere. It clung to everything, weighing us and the trees down alike. All the while, as we walked in a misty forest, where we could hardly see more than a few meters, I kept swearing I could see things out there. Little shapes sitting on rocks and tree branches that would be there one moment and seemed to disappear as soon as I looked directly at it. I asked my grandfather, and he told me not to acknowledge them. Just keep moving.

The longer the days went, the more of them I would see. It was on the ninth day of trying and failing at our hunts that we returned to a troubling sight. All along the tree lines surrounding the cabin, a couple meters off the barbed wire fence, there were a number of large stones, big boulders that came out to my chest. Most were oddly shaped where the tops curved off in a direction. They were all pointing at the cabin. They had been placed every few feet along the tree line,

almost like a fence of the forest zone. When we saw that Dana stopped and said, Pack your things. We were leaving at dawn. I wasn't going to argue. Even as we got past the fence and closed the door, I felt like we were still being watched from somewhere out in the snow. It was too dark to see any of the little shapes that had been following us. whenever we went outside, but I knew they were there.

Hardly a moment when they weren't. We didn't sleep long. Sometime in the middle of the nights between the howling winds and the biting cold, there was a deafening crash in the door split down the middle. Snow and frost flying in and blowing out the only candle before we even knew what had happened. There was a scurrying noise, and after a few seconds, my grandfather had managed to light a little oil lantern hit hanging by the wall. The table and pantries have been overturned.

Everything not nailed down was either broken or scattered around the room. I asked if we should leave right now. He told me that was what they wanted us to do, that we would wait until first light. It was the longest night of my life. We sat there shivering and staring at the broken door. The lantern's light just barely keeping the dark, and who knows what else away.

Several times I thought I saw something there. just outside the door, watching. When I saw the horizon getting brighter, it was like waking from my nightmare. Only this one wasn't quite over. We grabbed whatever had been broken and made for civilization. The snow had stopped, but the cloud still hung heavy above us. It would be three days until we got to the truck.

We moved as fast as we could. The snow was so deep in clingy that we had to stop every kilometer or so just to wipe it off. It weighed us down more than her hacks did. I don't know how far we traveled. I know we didn't stop and I don't think we ate until it started getting dark. Dana said to get as much firewood as I could find.

We were going to need a big fire. What about the marked trees? I said to him. I still wasn't sure if things could get worse. Fuck them. They're already pissed. It won't matter much now. That night we had a massive bonfire going. I bet you you could see it from one of the mountain and it was so bright. even so we could hear them out there.

The whispers never stopped. Every now and then a branch or rock would come flying out at us and the fire. It didn't make for a restful night. Around an hour before dawn, the snow started again. The second day was worse yet. With the snow back, the little fucks got brave and started coming in close. Every now and then we'd get hit with a something that fell from the tree branches or a tree along our path would fall down and make it harder to progress.

We didn't walk. We ran through those woods. I didn't think I could run so far, but I don't remember either of us stopping. We just managed to stumble into a little clearing as the light was fading again. We hurried and grabbed whatever wood we could find and tried to start the fire. The wood was wet and uncooperative, and the shadows started to close in. We could see the little moving figures at the edge of our vision again. I guess Dana was getting to his wits and because he grabbed the little oil lantern and broke it open.

pouring the oil across the logs and lit it up with the lantern sparker. The shadows retreated for a moment, and I think the little monsters were hissing at us. We were left mostly alone that night. Hell if I know why. Maybe even they need to rest some time. The snow hadn't quit yet, so by the time we woke, we were both mostly covered. We set out before the sun rose. I think Dana didn't trust us to make the rest of the way in only a few hours of light.

The trail was a fucking mess. Trees and rocks littered the animal trails and the bush was so thick with evergreens that it was no better. It was slow going and of course we were still being followed.

We would still catch side of them at the edge of our vision, watching and whispering in tune with the wind. I couldn't even tell which was which by this point. Sometimes I still can't. For whatever reason we were left mostly untouched

on the rest of the way back. The poor trail conditions slowed us to the point that it was already dark and we still hadn't made it back to our truck. Dana didn't want to stop, though. He said we were close and didn't want to risk another night outside. I'm not sure when it was, but we eventually made our way out of the trees and onto a road. We followed it for a few minutes until we saw it.

The glorious steed that would get us out of that place. Covered under a few feet of snow, though it was. We swept out the truck bed, threw our things in, and drove away. I don't think either of us looked back. After we got back to town, stayed at an inn for a night, best goddamn night in my life. We woke early and drove for nearly the entire day until we made it to Eric Nelson Airport. When we got back Dana, stayed with my family for a little while at my dad's behest. We didn't talk much about the trip, just said we needed to come home early.

That spring, Dana left and said that he was going back home. I asked him what in the fuck he was thinking going back there. And he told me he had lived in those woods for almost 20 years. It was his home and he would stay there as long as he had left. He promised to call or visit on occasion. That was three years ago. None of us have heard hide nor hair of him. My parents are convinced he had passed away.

They're probably right, but I can't help wanting to know. And that is where we come to today. I told my friends about what happened that winter, and they don't really buy it. Can't blame them, but we've been talking on and off for a year now about going on a camping trip, and I jokingly mentioned that maybe we should go out to my grandfather's cabin. They thought it was a great idea. We're currently in the Sky Motel and Whitehorse. We are leaving tomorrow morning.

I'm still convinced that this is a bad idea, but I want to know what happened when my granddad came back out there. We plan for the trip to be a little less than a month, and we picked summer since, I think it is safer than the dead of winter like last time. This is the last story I'm going to be posting for a while. Come the start of September, I'll start a thread, and let you all know what happens. I'll take pictures where I can and have brought a number of spare batteries from my phone. Wish us luck. And that's the last we have ever heard of, O.P.

Hopefully he's all right and just forgot his 4chan power. even though there isn't a four-hand password. Hopefully he's all right. And hopefully he got some closure about his grandfather. A very good story, a very fascinating story about his grandfather's life and how he lived. And yeah, very interesting. But hopefully O.P. survived. And I wish him luck.

And hopefully you do too. Comment down below what you thought, what happened to O.P. And what happened to his grandfather? Very interesting. And hopefully everybody's all right. but I guess we'll never know. And all right, guys, that wraps up some creepy 4chan threads. What did you guys think about this video?

I thought all the stories in today's video were great. I love the Florida one. I mean, like I said, 20,000 or 30,000 likes, and I will go explore for the forgotten Florida pyramid. And also, I thought the Alaska story was super good, and I thought the Australia story was super good. And all these threads were super good, and hopefully you enjoyed them as well.

and if you did please like the video, subscribe to the channel, and maybe I'll be searching for a Florida pyramid soon. But we will see. Thank you so much for watching. And yeah, like I said, like subscribe and join our Patreon for early access to every single video. You get the weekly Snook show and much, much more.

I appreciate you guys watching. And this is Snook, and I'll see you next time. Bye.