Snook - Disturbing 4Chan Stories

Episode Date: March 14, 2025

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Hey, what's up guys? And welcome back to a different type of video today, some disturbing 4chan stories. 4chan has always had some really weird, scary, and just interesting stories. And I thought I might make a series out of it because there is so many great and really authentic stories that I think are mostly true. There's a lot of weird stuff on there. There's a lot of great stories. But let me know down in the comments below. If you enjoy this video, if you'd like me to see make more videos like this, and if you'd just like to see anything kind of parallel to this or similar to this in the future. I appreciate you stopping by so much. You guys are the best. Please like and subscribe to the channel. It's the channel's goal to be

500,000 subscribers, so please subscribe to the channel. And yeah, all right, without further ado, I'm really excited to get into these. And welcome to some disturbing 4chan stories. Anon delivers pizza in woods. I was obsessed with Goatman slash Skinwalker slash Meokry Stories for a while, but I haven't looked in a while. And then this happened to me last night, and now I literally cannot sleep or stop shit in my pants due to its proximity to my house. I'll try to green text as much as I can but first background.

I'm 21 and a college senior from Connecticut. While I live in a semi-rural area about 20 minutes to the closest supermarket size fat food, I go to school in Washington, D.C., not the nice part either. The part where crackheads are a real thing and cops are reassuring rather than troublesome.

I've definitely seen some shit in my day. It would be good to mention here that I'm not some glender freak, but I'm about 6'1 and 240. A lot of muscle, but Lord knows I could drop 15 pounds. I love to smoke, pot, get drunk, and eat. Sue me. Being the good student that I am, I picked a real major, accounting, and I interned for a mid-sized PR team doing accounting bitch work

and getting paid 20 bucks an hour. College is expensive as fuck, though, so I deliver pieces in a number. night after the office closes. It's a cheap, drunk food kind of pizza place that has an absurdly large delivery radius and is around 20 minutes from my house, five minutes from the beach. My place is north of there and we deliver probably another 15 minutes past my house. I'm actually typing this at work in between examining the fine print on our client contracts to ensure we are charging them every penny we can, cheap bastards. So basically the further north you go from the pizza place,

the more rule it gets. I work until close. and this occurs around 9.45 p.m. Be me in the back, folding pizza bosses like a good little corporate bitch. Countergirl comes back with the delivery slip. She tells me the customer sounded weird on the phone, kind of like he was talking through a fan or through his hands, and he was almost like gurgling. My DC experience instantly makes me think crackhead,

although around here it's way more likely to be some benzo freak or painkiller attic, automatically assuming some weird interaction will occur. Look at a dress, see it is kind of bumble fuck. I'm a little mad because I don't want to drive that far, but fuck it. It's the weirdest ticket I've ever seen. Guy ordered a large pizza with anchovies, ground beef, ham, sausage, pepperoni, etc. Literally $15 worth of extras. I go ask the countergirl if it's right.

She says she thinks so. She couldn't really make it out, though, so she said she did her best. She's like 16, so I cut her some slack, assume she was daydreaming and called the number back. Phone rings. Five, ten, twenty, thirty times, no answer. Hang up, call again.

Phone goes right to, The number you have dialed, does not have a voicemail box that has been set up yet. Goodbye. Okay, then. Manager delivers to just make the pizza as ordered and proceed from there. Deliver a pizza to a hilariously obese and blackout.

drunk couple invited me in for drinks but i don't drink or smoke when i work hope someone else took weird pizza surprise no one did it's my turn regurgently took the pizza and get in my car enter address into phone it's on a side street adjacent to a park locals call open space which despite the name is about 500 acres of street woods it's about 25 minutes away basically the edge of our range put on some dubstep judge me and crank my turbo subby judge me more out to this road If you're not from a rural area, this can be hard to explain. Winter in the woods is scary. There is never a single sound.

Ever. Unless there's something larger than a cat walking around, it's you in dead silence. Finally, get to address. There are a few houses on the street, but they sit on probably five acres, so they're spaced out a fair amount. Looking for number 1134. I pass a 1130, then a long, long stretch of nothing, then a 1144. What the fuck? Yes?

Lurking. Proceed. Go on, damn it. Your bait worked. Now proceed. I just want to get this over with and get the next delivery without getting stabbed by some pillhead over a fucking pizza. Call the number. Rings, rings, stops ringing.

There's no sound, but instead, kind of like a buzzing or a humming. It's hooked up to my car stereo and it's getting louder and louder until I just hang up because I don't want it to ruin my speakers. Windows are fogging up because at this point I'm pulled over between those two houses. Right when I wall the windows down, I'm overcome by the odor of decaying trash, like driving through Newark and New Jersey. Fucking gross, so I put the car in first and I start pulling towards the next house. At the end of the driveway, there's a station with a light on top.

Gonna pull into this house and knock and ask if maybe they gave the wrong number over the phone. Makes sense for a pillhead. I'm probably 100 feet away when I see someone step out of the darkness into the light at the bottom of the driveway. Good, it's the fucker that ordered. Expecting this guy to be all over the fucking place

leaning in over and being fucked up. Guy isn't that fucked. Stop the car about 10 feet from him. Black coat that looks three times too big for him even though he's probably got five inches on me. Don't look at him first. Getting pizza out of the car and getting ticket and changes the talk.

Hey, sorry sir about the weight and the calls, so this is pretty far. No response. Realize I should be watching him, considering the signs. The smell is still pretty pungent, but I know it's not trash day. I get the pizza on the roof of my car. He is standing under the light on the opposite side of my car, so I got out of my driver's seat and went to deliver rear to get pizza. But pizza on roof on driver rear, guy is probably 10 feet away from passenger rear. I finally pay enough attention to get a good look at him. Giant tall, no shoes, ripped up jeans, stains everywhere. Big jacket, as mentioned.

Look at his face. Sunkin eyes. Can't even see them with the light. Getting real sketched out because guy hasn't moved or said a word. Stop the process and just stare at the guy. He is staring right at me with those freaky fucking eyes. His head is sort of bobbing side to side, but not in any fluid sense at all. Kind of like a car door, like how it stops at halfway open. then you give it another shove and it stops that all the way open.

I watch his head do this and no real pattern for probably 10 seconds. Starting to get real uneasy between the stench and the head thing and the eyes and the not fucking answering. I stand frozen and so does he. Without breaking eye contact, I take my phone out of my pocket and hold it level with the roof so I can look at the guy and my phone at the same time. Call the number for the guy. Call it.

Phone starts ringing but I hear no phone anywhere. Then out of the quiet of the woods, I hear faintly. So, so faintly. A fucking cell phone ringing back, and there may be 50 or 100 yards away. This is my kicking myself for not getting my CC yet. This is me almost shitting myself. The guy's just standing there, still doing the head thing, but I swear I see that fucker smile. Finally get the courage to speak.

Uh, can you please come get this? Also, I think you may have dropped your phone when you're, hiding a body or whatever in the woods. Nervously laughed, still thinking maybe this guy dug too deep into the prescription bottle or found some PCP or some shit. I see his mouth open, head's still bobbing, feet planted to the ground. He makes sort of like a low, guttural, quick grunt, then a high grunt, than a low grunt. They are sort of soft, kind of like someone clearing their throat.

I've shut the rear passenger door at this point, and I'm ready to book it to the driver's seat if I got to. Just as I go to call that phone again, I hear words. The phone's not mine. The pause between the and the phone's not was way too long. Phones not literally sounded like one word. Mine came off an octave higher. My mind is deaf-combed five like just full panic attack.

Knees are weak. I'm literally about a piece out. I pushed the pizza to the far side of the roof away from me. Finally muster out, sir, you're freaking me the fuck out. I have a 45 and less than $20 on me. Please come take this so I can leave. When I say this, the head bobbing stops. His eyes are dark and a burning a hole through my skull.

Opens his mouth again. It was his. What? I say stunned. It was his. The phone was his. The guy comes towards the car. Not a step, but like one huge muscle spasm that propels him forward.

The phone was his, he repeats. I won the verge of tears at this point. Standing next to the open driver's side, Pete's is on the roof over passenger rear door. Guy jerk jumps once closed the door. The phone is not his anymore. I blubber wordless, and then gathering man balls, I scream,

I'm going to call the fucking cops and blow your fucking drug addict head off if you don't get the fuck out of here. I see this fucker's smile, this creepy fucking smile, without moving his mouth, I can hear him say in a completely different voice. a voice I've never heard before.

Go wait, stop following me. I'll call the police. In one big jerky motion, the thing reaches forward, takes the pizza off the top of the car, and places a couple round things that I later identify as corridors on the roof, surrounded by dark liquid that spreads over the roof. I don't even think. Just get in the car and peel out down the road.

Leave the hot sleeve for the pizza, leave the shit on the roof, don't even close the door all the way. I go down the road at like 80 for a quarter mile and pull a U-turn because I don't want to get more loss with this psycho here. I whip down the road, past the place where he was. Nothing. Finally, get to the end of the road. There's a stop sign to merge with the main road.

Looks right to make sure it's clear. Look left. This thing's face is 12 inches from my own when I turn. Tactically shit myself. Peel down road. Finally, make it back to Pizza Place, shaking like bloody hell. smoke a joint just to calm me down, which I never do when I'm working.

I walk in the front door of the pizza place. Hey, you know, that guy at the open spacehouse just called back. He said he forgot some food, but he only ordered the pizza, right? He said, come back. I don't know. I start crying. Look at my phone, which has been thrown through the car with my driving. 14 fucking missed calls for that number.

Literally in tears. All the voicemails are empty, except the last one. All I can hear is ragged breathing and those low gruntings. Fucking bawling my eyes out in front of this hot-ass countergirl, and I don't even give a fuck. Sit for ten minutes and calm down. Remember the change on the roof. Go out to car and turn on flashlight. The roof of my car was covered in the most viscous weird liquid, but it smelled like blood, and I throw up immediately.

In the panel gap between my trunk and at the end of my rear window, I find the quarters. covered in the same maple syrup, thick, goop blood shit, and stuck to it are soft little chunks of what I can only imagine is tissue. Go to open my car and my blood turns to fucking ice. There is a single line of blood going from the front quarter panel to the driver's side door. The fucking thing tried to open my motherfucking door when it was next to me at the stop sign. tactically cry and poop my pants more. I go back in, tell countergirl to try and call the number again.

She tries over and over and over, but the phone goes right to voicemail. Next morning, I give the number to my uncle, who is a police captain a few towns over, says the number is from a burner phone, paid in cash, basically untraceable, and it appeared to be off now. I sleep with the lights on now. I'll be lurking for the comments or suggestions or something like, is this fucker going to stock me and kill me or call me again? I'm fucking terrified. My 18th birthday party.

October. Live out in the country in Tennessee. Dark as all kinds of fuck. Perfect chilly weather. Around 25 people all gathered at my house. We're playing manhunt. One guy runs off into the woods. Everyone else waits an hour

Then hunts him with paintball guns Plan on multiple rounds through the night A couple rounds go by No big deal My 10-year-old brother draw a short straw Almost didn't let him go hide But he begged What could happen?

We tried to find him for six hours Eventually find him terrified In a hunter perch thing in a tree Friend who found him said he kicked him in the face And almost knocked him off the tree at first I asked him why He tells me that he heard me trying to find him below the perch hours earlier.

He peeks out, it isn't fucking me. It isn't a fucking person. It stayed below the tree calling his name for a few hours, ran off when it hurt us coming to actually find him. What the fuck guys? Anon's friend comes back. Be me.

Two weeks ago, out at the deer lease with my friend. He says, Hey Anon, I'm going to go head on out. I'm bum because it's only 5 p.m. and you were supposed to spend the rest of the night out there. 10-4, dude, catch you later. He leaves a blind and heads off through the woods towards the trucks. About 40 minutes later, I heard a tapping on the door. Look out the slide on the door.

It's my buddy. He doesn't say shit, so I just let him in. Thought you were heading out, man. I knew you weren't going to quit on me. Notice he doesn't have his rifle. Where's your gun, dude? Oh, left out of the truck. Oh, well.

shit, you may as well have gone home, ha ha. He just smiles and sat there, didn't say a word except for the occasional grunt of acknowledgement and hmm of interest. It weirds me out because he's normally a pretty social guy, always talking about UFC shit or Mass Effect. I ask, you okay, bro? All he says is, don't feel good, that's all. About 5.30 a.m., he says, hey, Anon, I'm going to head on out.

Before I can even reply, he's gotten up and exited the blind, and I can hear him tromping through the woods. At the time, I thought, well, thanks for scaring off the deer, fuck wit. But now that I think about it, he wasn't walking towards the trucks. He was walking kind of off the way. About 7 a.m. I decide, fuck it. I give up. Pack my shit and head to my truck. His truck is gone, so I think nothing of it. The reason I'm bringing this up is,

as I talked to him earlier today and was asking him if he felt better. And he looked at me confused and said, what do you mean, Anon? You know, after you came back to the blind, you said you weren't feeling good. Figure that's why you weren't running your mouth about quatrain, pussy. He looked at me like I grew a second head and said, Anon, dude. I didn't come back to the blind. I drove home, got home at eight, and went the fuck to bed.

So, yeah. Aynne describes spooky cavern in Virginia. The Grand Caverns scripteds. This photo was taken in 1895 by an amateur Spalunker slash photographer named Orrin Jeffreys while exploring an unmapped section of Grand Caverns in southwestern Virginia. At the time it was taken, Jeffreys was conducting photographic experiments, using super-long exposures to see if anything at all could be captured in the total absence of life. otherwise known as cave darkness. He would situate himself on level ground, extinguish his

lantern, and then open the lens of his homemade box camera for as long as he could stand the darkness. During one of these experiments, he heard something approach from the deeper recesses of the cave. Frightened, Jeffrey's abandoned his experiment, and set off on one of the Blitzstreet flasces he used for taking traditional photos on a ground. According to the report, he later gave to a local newspaper, Jeffrey saw three humanoid creatures staring at him from the shadows and took off running in the other direction and didn't stop running until he was topside. Several days later, he returned with three other men to retrieve his box camera. This is the image that was recorded on the film inside. And before we move on to the next one, these could be really any animals. I mean,

all animals have reflective eyes. I don't know of all, but any cave animal probably has reflective eyes whenever it sees light. So this could literally be a raccoon, bears, foxes, coyote, bats maybe. This could literally be any cave dwelling creature. But he did say humanoid. So that's really weird. So this could be a true story. But look at the photos. Make up your mind yourself. Could be edited even, photoshopped. I'm not sure, but it's still a pretty spooky photo. Caves freak me out. But let me know what you think about this one down below. looks at the stars. Little brother is really into astronomy. He's about seven years old, likes to look at the stars and watch things. About three weeks ago, he spent literally the entire

night looking at one part of space from his room, never once moved, didn't even eat. When he gets up about noon the next day, I asked him what he was looking at. I was looking at the screaming stars. What are you talking about, you little brat? There's a place I found where, if you look at it, you can hear screaming. No way. I'll prove it to you. Wait until about 11 at night. Telescope hasn't moved since the other night.

Look into it. Hear very faint screams. Eventually gets louder. Have to look away. I noped out and told her mom that she should take away his telescope. I'm never going to look at the stars again. Anon goes canoeing with his uncle Be me age 7

Mom left dad for an aging basist In a shit-tier hairband She ends up OD on heroin a few years later Whatever, fuck her Only child, dad raises me the best he can Have no other family except an uncle That my dad refuses to talk to And one grandpa in a nursing home

B-14 Grandpa dies Dad and uncle both in hair about two million each. Grandpa had a textile company that he sold if you were wondering how he got rich. Saw uncle around that time because him and dad had to get all the shit in order with the grandpa's situation. He's glad to see me. We talk and catch up a bit. Dad still hates his guts, but he never says why. He just mumbles under his breath as he changes the subject or pretends he needs to go do something around the house. I don't really ask about it anymore, but I did hear that my uncle did good with his

money and started buying up land. Fast forward at high school. We find out dad has cancer in his throat. Try to be optimist, but it doesn't look good. Use up a lot of the money on treatment. I postpone going to college to stay with him so he isn't alone. Ends up dying when I'm 21. I have a little under 10 grand in the house after all is said and done. Work shitty jobs here and there, get girlfriend. She cheats on me after two years. She lives with me so I can't kick her out right away, say fuck it, extended amount of time off from job and drive off to get away from the situation. Have no one in my life that is close to me now. Feel hopeless and depressed. Drive aimlessly around the country, hit some famous places along the way, Grand Canyon, etc. See a bunch of tourists

with their happy families get super lonely. Decide to try and find my uncle. Takes a lot of searching, but eventually I get a number of a guy that keeps an answering machine for my uncle. Apparently uncle lives off the grid in a cabin by himself and you. doesn't keep a phone or anything else. Anyway, don't want to hang around and wait for a call back, drive to where he lives. Get to the guy's place who keeps Uncle's answering machine. Old retired guy. Pretty friendly. He tells me there isn't a road to my uncle's cabin. There's only a trail through the woods. It's like 10 miles so the guy lends me an old mountain bike and tells me I can leave my car at his place. I get my bag with all my essentials and thank him before I head out. Start wondering

how Uncle react to me dropping in on him after so long. Kind of nervous. Pass a few ponds in small lakes. I can't believe Uncle owns all this land. Get to the cabin. Uncle is outside and staring at me like a psycho. He seems kind of paranoid. I yell to him and tell him it's me. He lines up quite a bit. Seems happy to see me. Get the, you've grown up so much. Didn't recognize you. Get inside and we start catching up. He makes some food. I tell him my situation. He says I can stay with him for a while. Feels good. Next day we just hang out. I see he has a ton of journals that he has been writing in every day since he was 10. My dad had some too, but he quit after a couple of years. Uncle said I can read them if I don't mind seeing some mildly questionable shit. I guess he was pretty honest when he wrote.

Spent a lot of time reading those journals, learning more about my dad's family. Eventually, I want to get some stuff that my uncle didn't have at his cabin, mainly beer. In the morning, go back to the car and head to the nearest place for some supplies, shitty gas station. Get back and ready to hit the trail again. Old man comes out and I talk to him a bit more. He has about family history, tell him dad and uncle, didn't get along. He tells me that it might have to do with the lake disappearance. What disappearance?

Apparently, a long time ago, this area was a popular camping and canoeing spot. People would pay like a regular campground and carry their canoes in there. uncle used to live in a different spot. He would come here every year when he was younger. Old guy tells me that one year, a dude disappeared there. His tent was all torn up and there was blood everywhere. Only other person on record that was there at the time was my uncle. There was an investigation and everything.

My uncle got cleared eventually and the dude was never found. I asked the dude what he thinks happened and he says that he has no idea. That I should ask my uncle what happened. This was really unnerving at the time. I figured this is why my dad broke off contact with my uncle. Head back to uncles with the beer and other goodies. Not going to lie, that information changed my image of the uncle. Decide not to bring it up right away.

But I really want to know what his story is. We drink beer and just hang out outside. I ask him if I can take out the canoe the next day. He says sure, but I can only go in specific spots. Don't bother asking why. He starts to make something for us to eat. I sit and read more journals, decide to try and find the journal for the year that the disappearance happened. Start going through it when I get to the spot that had like five pages ripped out.

And the way it looked, seemed like my uncle had done it recently. All the other journals that I looked through had all their pages, so I was pretty sure he did this at some point after I took an interest in the journals. I decided not to bring it up. We eat and hang out some more and go to sleep. The next day I want to head out in the canoe and paddle around. a bit. He gives me some pointers and tells me to stay only on this one lake. Okay, sure. I paddle around for a while hugging the shore mostly, kind of scared to go into deeper water, eventually lose side of cabin. It's a nice day, lots of wildlife. I see an odd looking area offshore. There are a bunch of chopped down trees and it's really overgrown, but it looked like something used to be there.

I decided to check it out and find out that it's an old overgrown trail. Also, it looks like someone tried to cover it up with logs and debris to hide it, too curious to leave it alone, get out and walk through the thick vegetation. Follow what is left at the trail for about a quarter mile. Come out to a different lake. It is dead quiet, no wind, no animal sounds, no bugs. Get a super weird feeling like someone is watching me. Start walking out on the rocky shore. Realize it's way too quiet here. Even the water seemed to be too still. Decide to go back to the canoe and head back to the cabin. Uncle is out and waves to me. Ask me how it was. Tell him it was fun. Ask him about the other lake. His face goes blank as he looks off in that direction, says he told me not to go to any other

lakes. I tell him I just walked there. I didn't take the canoe over. He tells me to never go there again, where I would have to leave. He tells me he doesn't want me going in the canoe again. He seems pissed. Okay, whatever. He disappears for a while. I decided to get more beer. Get back to the cabin and uncle still isn't there. I decided to hold off on the beer and make something to eat. Uncle gets back and he is pretty quiet. Things are kind of tense. I just end up sitting around until bedtime. Next day, Uncle is in a better mood. Apologizes for being a dick. We start drinking beer. He goes through most of them and loosens it up a lot. I guess he really needed to take the edge off. I asked him why dad and him never got along.

just kind of brushes it off. I ask him if it is to do with the incident on the lake. He gets quiet for a moment and asks me, what do I know about it? I tell him what the old guy told me. He gets quiet for a really long time and just stares off in the direction of the lake with the overgrown trail. Maybe it was because he was drunk or maybe it was because he was tired of keeping it to himself, but he told me where he hid the missing journal pages. He told me to make of it what I wanted, but that what he wrote was the truth. He got up and went for a walk. I went to the spot in the cabin where he hid the pages and started reading them. First page is from the day before his trip out. It didn't really have anything too interesting on it, mostly a list of all he

took on his camping trip and what he ate in the weather, which he documented every day. The next two pages were from the same day. They were about him arriving at the park, hoping he was the first person there that season so that he could camp wherever he wanted. He found out that there was already another guy out on the lakes who went in the night before. I guess back when the land was a campground, it was a lot easier to access a lot of areas, so it didn't take long to get to the lakes with his canoe. He had a specific lake that he liked to stay at, and he was hoping to have it all to himself, or at least his favorite spot, which was a small island in the lake. When he got onto that lake, he saw smoke on the island in a red tent, so he was disappointed that his spot. He was disappointed that his

spot was taken. Eventually, he settled onto a small peninsula that had some trees on it. The only other noteworthy thing from that day was that he never saw the guy walking around on the island, and eventually the smoke stopped. The last thing on that page was that my uncle planned on moving to a different lake the next day because he wanted to be completely alone. The next day, he noticed that the guy hadn't lit a fire, and he still hadn't seen him walking around on the island, and his canoe was still there. There was a storm rolling in that day, and my uncle decided stay at the spot for another night. He also wrote that during the night on his first day, he got up to take a piss. The moon wasn't quite full, but it gave off a lot of light. He saw what

looked like a log standing straight up in the middle of the lake. The last page had two days on it, one on the front, on the back. The weather was horrible the next day, windy and cloudy. He decided to try and head out anyway, but ended up flipping his canoe and had to get it back to shore. He made a fire and dried out all his gear and closed the best he could. He set up his tent again and was in for another night. He also wrote that he still had not seen any movement or a fire on the island, and that the night before he once saw the upright log on the lake. But this time it had gotten closer, about half of the way between the first place he saw in his campsite. He also noted that it was not visible during the day. From what I had read up to that point, I didn't understand what was so bad about this,

that he would try and hide it from me. That all changed when I read the last entry. The last night that he was there, the moonlight woke him up. He also had to take a piss. He got out of the tent in the cool night air to complete silence. The only sound was the faintest lapping of the water on the shore. As he was relieving himself, he noticed how calm and glassy the lake was, and then he saw it. The thing that he thought was a log stood at the very end of the peninsula. Now that it was on land, he could tell that it was alive. A pitch black figure almost seven feet tall, wearing what looked like to be wet robes. He crawled back into his tent, his heart racing, and pretended like it wasn't there. Then he heard the voice of a child

in distress. Can you help me? I'm lost, followed by a low giggling and random whispers around the tent. shh don't wake him then more giggling this went on for what seemed like an eternity the sounds of footsteps all around the tent giggling and shushing just before dawn he heard what he presumed to be the figure waiting back out into the water as soon as light out he was already packing his things and heading back the way he came in but first he paddled up to the island to see if there was anyone there All he saw were the remains of the first fire, the tent torn apart on the one side, blood everywhere, and strange symbols drawn on a big boulder. He reported the man missing, but he never told anyone about what he saw that night.

After I was done reading, I just sat there until my uncle got back from his walk. It's still out there, he said, as he looked towards the lake. He said that he bought up the area over the years and tries his best to keep people off of that lake. He says it's cursed. that didn't stop me from going back once more to see it, but that's a story for a different time. And wow, I really like that story. I'm really loving these 4chan stories so far.

Let me know down in the comments below if you like these or if you don't, but I think this is a nice alternative to the Reddit stories. And yeah, I'm just really liking these so far. Really like the vibe. They're just kind of differently written than the Reddit stories. I know you guys love those, but hopefully you guys end up loving these two. So we have two alternatives. But yeah, comment down below.

if you enjoyed that story. And yeah, into the next one. Anon and his wife go camping. Wife asked me to go camping. Hate the idea. She is excited, though. Sure, why not? We drive to a secluded bit of land her grandparents' own.

Spend hours setting up the tent and campsite. We get ready. Go hiking. It rains a little. We get a little wet. We double back. Get back just as it gets dark. Make a fire.

Wife is getting a little low. energy. We eat and talk for a while, decide to go to sleep. Inflatable mattress, double sleeping bag. We get in together. She is shivering. Ask if she is okay. I'm fine. She keeps shivering. I don't feel good. You said you were fine. I don't want to ruin our trip. Oh boy, we get to go home. Feel her face. She's pretty hot. Well, it won't be any fun if you don't feel well. I think you may have a fever, I guess. Let's go home. Get up and get her. her to the car, start it and turn on the heat. Start packing up our stuff in the tent deflating the mattress. The horn beeps. I run out and over the car. She says that there was someone

around our camp, said they were crawling. As soon as she saw them move and was sure as someone she beeped the horn, can tell she is upset. Don't believe her though. Tell her to relax and go back to packing. Gather everything outside the tent. Step back into, roll up the mattress. Hear her yell my name. Sounded like it came from the woods. Why is she outside the car? Here, help, blank, my leg is bleeding. Rush out, glance at the car. She's asleep in the seat. Wave of fear. Here's something yell again. Help me. Still sounded like her, but somewhat off. Too raspy and deep. Take down the tent. Just roll it up. Shove it in the car, left a few things, got the fuck out of there, driving a little fast, wake wife up and make

her put her seatbelt on, get home and ask her to tell me what she saw. She said it was white, thought it was a naked person crawling behind some trees. She saw them stand up against the tree and she beeped the horn and they dropped down and ran. Anon interrupt some guy's nap. Be my father, 16 to 17 years old, living in the rural town of Castile, Spain. One of his friends recently found a cave and he wants to go explore it. Dad accepts. They arrive at the entrance. The entrance is rather big, but afterwards the tunnel turns smaller and they have to crouch to continue.

After some walking, the tunnel starts gradually increasing in size and they can walk straight again. They walk for like 10 minutes, just a tunnel that goes deeper and deeper into the earth. My dad starts feeling weird vibes. something is not normal, tells nothing to his friend and they keep walking. Eventually they reach a cave. In one corner they see a man, just laying in the ground. Hello? No response. They get a bit closer. He's sleeping. The man is unnaturally pale, like milk white. His hair is long enough to reach his knees. At first they thought it was a hobo, but his also white clothes are clean. He looks like he has good hygiene and the man also had lots of gold jewelry on him. Man starts awakening and stands up.

He's like three meters and a half tall, around 12 feet for Americans, most likely more. He says something in a language they don't understand. He doesn't seem hostile, but my dad and his friends still freak out in a rush for the exit. The man laughs as if he found it funny. Both my dad and his friends spent the rest of the day and the entire next day thinking about it. After that, not to go back. The entrance is no longer there. Looks like there was never any cave there. They talk with the locals about it. No one ever heard of any cave in that location. Anon sleeps in front of his computer. Just moved out of parents' house. Sleep across from computer screen. Office chair is facing computer. Wake up. Someone is sitting in the chair facing the computer. Door locked.

roommate not home nope my way to sleep wake up later no one sitting in my chair relief until i realized chair is turned towards me now nope turn every light on watch sponge bob a non gets locked in the kindergarten bathroom when i was like four or five i once got locked in the girls bathrooms of my kinder by a female janitor it was around 12 p m the time where everyone had left school. Long story short, no one would hear my screams or punches to the door, until an old man in his suit opened the door and said, You have to go now.

We make sure you run as fast as you can. And so I did. There was a huge scandal because the woman that had locked me confessed she was being extortioned by some people to have kids kidnapped, but no one had seen or known any man like the one I described. and I never saw him again. Anon calls himself from inside a dream. Have this dream in a factory,

typical wacky dream shit going on. Go through the backdoor of this factory, walk out into a sort of Disney cartoon, a bit like Who Frame Roger Rabbit when Valiant is in Tune Town. Don't like it. Has this weird sort of opera slash choir kind of music in the background,

but it's really foreboding and eerie. Whole place feels forebuck. voting and eerie. Starts panicking. Seas phone booth. Use phone booth. Call myself to come rescue myself. Wake up sweating. Time to get up anyway. Go downstairs. See I have message on answering machine. Play the message. It's the same music from the dream and someone talking, but you can't make out what's being said. Message was received just before I woke up. Maybe. I called my house phone with my mobile while I was sleeping like some kind of muscle memory thing, although that wouldn't explain the background music.

Remember, my mobile was downstairs charging the whole night anyway. Anon needs to tighten up the ceiling fan. Uncle lived with me and my folks growing up. I was about 10 years old when I found him dead in his room. S-word. Box cutter. Slashed his W. The walls, the floor.

floor, even the ceiling and ceiling fan had blood on them. I remember standing in the doorway. I remember screaming. Dad rushed over to see what was the matter. The thing that sticks out of my memory most is the ceiling fan on high, spinning and creaking repetitively overhead. Then it's all blur. Fast forward. Uncle's funeral comes and goes. His old room is cleaned and emptied of all furniture. The door to his room is always kept closed. Nobody goes in there for months. I wake up from a terrible dream one night. In the dream, I'm standing in the uncle's doorway. He's sitting on the edge of his bed, staring at me. His wrists are slashed to hell. His arms are abnormally long into the dreams, so it makes them look even worse. Sealing fan is creaking, repetitively, spinning above me.

Creek, creak, creak. I sit up in bed. I'm awake now, but I still hear that sound. Creek, creak, Creek. I lay there a sec listening to it. I'm not imagining it. For some reason, I slip out of bed and into the hall. Looking back, I didn't feel in control of my own body at the time. I approached uncle's bedroom door. On the other side, I can hear the ceiling fan spinning loudly, clear as day. The image of my uncle from my dream pops into my head, pictures long arms reaching over to open the door. For whatever reason, I turned the handle, push door open slightly. peek inside. The room is empty. sigh of relief. Look up at the fan. It isn't even on. Creek. Creek. Creek. What the fuck? I suddenly panic and try to close the door. But at the last second,

I feel someone tug on it from the other side, keeping it from closing. Fuck this, abandoned ship. Rush to my room. Jump under the covers. I think I hear the door closed, but my heart is beating in my ears, so maybe I imagined it, lay there for a long time listening to the creaking sound until I pass out from exhaustion slash fear. There's something in the hallway. It was yesterday. I was sitting in the kitchen of my house. It was two to three o'clock in the morning, drinking tea and watching YouTube.

My door from the hallway leads directly to the kitchen and through this door, sitting at the table, you can see what's going on in the hallway. I was distracted because my dog started behaving strangely. He never growled for nothing, but then he stood in front of this door and first looked for a long time. Then he started growling. And then he ran to another part of the room and curled up. I decided to check what was there and looked into the darkness. There I saw a silhouette of a man and took a picture.

And then I took a picture with a flash and then it became scary. I attached the photo. Everything is visible there, so immediately after this photo with a flash, my dog first ran up to this creature and started barking, and then whined and ran away. When I got closer, this creature disappeared. I do not know what it was, but now I always closed the door from the hallway to the kitchen at night. Anon names himself. Visit area my mother's family are from. Her brother and his family still live there.

I'm about 17 of the time. Go wandering about outside. Isn't that hot, but then it feels like I'm on the surface of the sun. Everything looks and feels sort of like 2D. Think I have heat stroke. See small pub. Go there for drink, not alcohol. Pretty much empty and dated as fuck.

See two guys at table talking. They look very familiar. Keep looking at them. They notice. Eventually one comes over menacingly and asks why I keep looking. Suddenly, I know who they are. They're my two uncles. It's me, A-Anon.

Who? Your sister's son, Anon. Start reeling at me that sister is only 12. Very definitely not my uncles. Ha, ha. Just me, bros. I'm a doctor. Boyish, good looks.

Give this ruse away. Blood could be spilled. Run up the doors and back to Uncle's house. Still hot as fuck. When I get back to his place, it doesn't seem so hot anymore. Have a peculiar first name. So much that no one calls me by it, except for myself and my mother. And everyone else uses a shortened version like Jonathan and John, for example, except more rare.

Haven't seen Uncle since I was young ankle biter. We sit out back and start talking. I accidentally called me by my full first name. Literally grimaces at it. Ask what's up with it. It tells me that back in the 70s, him and his brother were in the pub when someone called that, started trying to dab on them. When they chased him out of the pub, he totally disappeared.

My mother overheard him telling this to his parents that same night. My mother loved the name. To him, it was cursed. Don't know if I've always been cursed or if somehow I named myself. And attached is a photo that I assume is something similar to what he saw. Something is hitting the trailer. My name is Jeff and I work in the frozen food industry for a local company that delivers stuff to restaurants, food trucks, etc.

I work the early morning shift along with a single mid-level manager. Mid-level manager and I arrive to work one Monday morning and it is still dark out. Late in the years, stars stills twinkling in the sky above. It's frigid outside and frost covers everything. We've got a delivery this morning, a frozen food home. hauler that needs to be emptied and sorted before the rest of the crew comes in. Get to it. Mid-level manager is supposed to be in the freezer with an extra insulated burqa on. Not really a burka, but a really huge woolly jacket type of thing. Makes them look ridiculous. I've got layers on too,

but I'm working in the trailer of the truck. We set up rails and I start emptying the trailer. Mid-level manager goes into the freezer and doesn't come out. I send things down the rails and they disappear through a window slot into the freezer where mid-level manager takes and sorts them. Everything is going perfectly normal. A huge sound reverberates through the trailer, like someone had whacked it with a big sledgehammer or something. The sound pinged off the inside of the trailer, making a gong-like sound. Obviously, I didn't miss it. Trailer rocks back and forth a little, too. I'm taken aback. Our warehouse is pretty remote, about half a kilometer from the nearest town. Need to take a lonely little industrial road just to get here.

Tall grass and tight-knit tree lines have us hemmed in. Nobody else should be out here, especially with the high gate and no trespassing signs everywhere. Another impact. More like a massive slap. I lose my footing on the slippery floor on the freezer trailer and fall over, banging my head hard against the side of the trailer. Visions goes white for a moment before it readjusts and the pain sets in. Now I'm angry. Who the F just did that I yell out, my own voice echoing in the same.

the cramped frozen space, nothing. Just silence. The freezer unit at the back of the truck turns off. It had been running the whole time. And I think I hear heavy footfalls from outside, like someone with boots on trudging through the parking lot. I stand there for a moment before I realize I'm not sending product down the rails anymore. Sure enough, mid-level manager pokes his frost and crusted face out from the window slot and tells me to keep moving. What the fuck? If mid-level manager was still in the freezer, then who was hitting the side of the trailer. I pick up a discarded piece of racking as a weapon and cautiously get out of the trailer into the concrete docking area. I opened the door out into the parking lot and look around. Nothing. Just pre-dawn darkness and the

buzz of insects to find the night's cold with their incessant mating calls. I wait a few minutes to see if I hear anything. Mid-level pokes his head out at the slot again and really yells at me this time. I can't blame them. It's sub-artic in there. I finish emptying the trailer with no further issues. Afterward, we wrap up, dismantle and store the racks, and clean up the trailer. Mid-level manager hands paperwork to truck driver who is snoozing in our office. He had been waiting for several hours to finish this delivery. Truck driver and mid-level manager both come out just as I'm finishing up. Truck driver heads to his cab to start his truck but stops and exclaims loudly,

asks us what the fuck happened to the trailer. Me and my mid-level manager head over to have a look. Big, muddy handprints are smeared down the length of the trailer. Think dark mud coats the side of the trailer, and it looks very much like a handprint, a very, very big handprint. Truck driver is bewildered, says he doesn't remember that being there,

wonders if maybe something smacked into the truck. trailer when he was asleep in her office. I don't say anything. I'm a shy person by nature and I don't feel like telling anyone, least of all someone I work for. That something was slapping the side of the trailer hard enough to knock me over. Mid-level manager produces paper towels and helps truck drive take most of the mid off. Meanwhile, I'm scanning the tree line, trying to find any trace of what might have done this. Nothing. The forest around us is still and quiet, save the insects. First and last time I experienced anything like that. I kept working there for about a year more before leaving for a better paying job. Still wonder to this day what it was that hit the

trailer. Anon seized the Hog Rider. Be me, living in a small village on the border of Germany in the Netherlands, testing my new night vision cam for school project. Wolves are turning back to the Netherlands through Germany. It's been all over the fucking news. Found a nice tree in the woods near hill called the Tonkenberg, looking for a money shot. Install my sweet new camera, hook the baby up to a nice tree. Come back next day to look at pictures. Nothing but birds and small deer just spent fucking 400 euros to spy on birds. Feels bad.jpg. Repeat this for a week or two. more birds, deer, and some hogs too. Send to all pictures to a friend slash project partner from school for further review.

Next day, got home from a family dinner at some Spanish restaurant, turn on PC, three emails from friend. Two of them are about some rare birds. In the last mail, he urges me to look at some pictures I took a week ago. Open OP folder. Open pick and see what appears to be a fairer. Gerald Gould from Fallout 4 riding a hog. Holy fuck, and I don't even note this next line says. It's here, so try to decipher that for what you want.

I think he says, almost tear of my effing balls as I was scratched them at the moment. Not really sure. Let's keep going. Lose my shit a bit. I call friend. I don't know what to do. Go to police? No, what are they going to do?

Look for a Dr. Seuss character riding a pig? Don't think so. Next day, at school, talk to a friend about pick. Too afraid to show pick to anyone. They might think I lost my mind or something. Ask him, did you show this pick to anyone, Aan? Aon. Yeah, man, my parents and my uncle.

Anon. They think it's pretty funny. Weekend. Go back home. Show a pick to my mother. She says it's a weird picture like the ones on the Discovery Channel. Says Grandpa used to tell stories about a man riding a hog. That's really specific.

Next day. Go to see Gramps. He pours me a drink as always. Korbrangen or gin, as you guys in Trumpatopia call it. My family is fueling my alcoholism. Gonna die before I turn 30 for sure. Ask him about a guy riding a hog. At first he is clueless about what I am talking about. He remembers and smiles.

He told me about a spirit called Dirk met Denbier. Dirk with a hog. Says he is a protector of these woods and something about an old farmer being cursed for shooting a veal at God on cursed knock, which is Christmas Eve. He goes to the bookshelf to get an old leathery-looking book with gold ornaments. I don't know how to describe it in English.

Avrajan Sagan book? What's the title on the cover? A book with stories about local legends like dwarves, water monsters, and witches. Under the chapter, Wild Jiat, Wild Hunt. I found multiple stories about Dirkmet Danbier. some about the cursed farmer, and one about him being a god, like from the pagan times, some real Viking shit. I say to my grandpa, that's a weird name for a god, Dirk.

He smiles. That's not his real name, Anon. He can't speak his real name. It will bring bad luck. Once he called, I said Voldemort, I said smiling. Even just seeing the wild hunt is a bad omen. My grandma hears my grandpa talking about the spirit. She looks at us and says,

wasn't he called fro or freeze or something in one fluent motion my grandpa jumps out his chair and begins to raise his voice you don't speak his name what did i just tell you now oh fuck didn't know my grandpa was this superstitious after he calms down i showed him the picture i took of the thing in the woods my grandpa silent he even has a spear he mumbles after a minute what i took a closer look and you can almost almost make out a spear behind the figure. He misses a war horn, said Grandpa. A horn, I said? He turns the page of the book and on it is a real nice looking picture of a Germanic-looking dude riding a hog. He is blowing a horn. What does the horn do, I ask?

Get some vague answer, something along the lines of it helps him hunt. A couple of days later, back home I do some research on Dirk slash Fro. Turns out was like an old germ. Germanic god. Almost every Germanic country has its own name for him. In the Netherlands and Germany, they call him fro or fray. And in the Scandinavian countries, they called him frayer, god of fertility. Yeah, the dude indeed looks like a real ladies man. Reading some information on the Tangenberg, where I took the pictures. There's a small pagan temple, temple for the goddess named Tamfana, a temple for human sacrifice possibly.

Go to the temple just for the heck of it. Not much to see just a small reconstruction of a temple and a nice view of the forest. Encounter some locals that live near the temple. Ask them about Temfana. They proudly tell about the goddess of harvest and nature. I ask about the man about Derek. He told me that every Christmas Eve they round up all their shit

and bring it inside their home because if you don't, have your stuff together at midnight, Dirk will come and wreck your shit, maybe even you. I ask, are there people who have seen Fro? The man looks at me like I fucked his wife. Never say that name, he said. I laugh and said, what we do, steal your broom? The guy said, again, never say that name.

He walks off, weirdest interaction I ever had. A week passes and some dude on local news says that he had seen a man on a hog. that it must be. Try to contact the man but no response. Next day, got his address, ride to his house, nobody home. Return home. This looks like a dead end. Three days later, turns out the guy committed S-word. She is getting too real now. That's what you get for looking funny at someone, I guess. Decides to go to police and show them our man fro. Man walks in, gives me the most disgusting cup of coffee I ever had. They take some more info from me, like the location and date the pick was taken, return home. Can't sleep thinking of our boy fro. Four in the morning and loud knocking on

door. Some fucking goons from the government or police, I don't know. They seize all my fucking equipment, my camera and the new camera, I just bought especially for Dirk, my phone and my laptop. Some thick-looking guy with a thin comb over asks if I have more pictures on that hard drive. No. They take it anyway. There was some pH on there as well. I know. Just the regular stuff, don't worry. Luckily, a backup all picks on my Google Drive, Hackerman. Grandpa passed away. Grandma said he wasn't doing so well lately. I began to get paranoid. Think it's because of the Dirk thing. Think the government is hiding something. Bought some new cameras. Currently hanging in the forest around Tonkenberg.

struggling with my study will become a dropout soon. Oppressively watching my cameras for a sign of Dirk. Just to prove that it's out there. And all right, guys, these stories were legit, so good. I haven't read Reddit stories in so long that are even close to this good. And if you guys know the channel, I read a ton of Reddit stories. And this is the first time I've ever read 4chan stories. And holy shit, these were amazing.

So good. I love these stories so much. It was a great refresher. Let me know it on the comments below if you'd like to see more stories like this. This was so fun to record, so fun to research, so fun to just narrate everything. Comment down below if you'd like to see more videos like this in the future. I'd love to make them, but if the video performs well, I'll definitely do it. And yeah, just comment down below if you enjoyed them as well because I really did.

I thought these were scariest shit. They were really entertaining, really good. And yeah, thank you so much for watching. This was Snook, and I'll see you next time.