Snook - Eerie Reddit Stories

Episode Date: March 28, 2026

These are some of the most creepy stories I have ever read... I hope you enjoy! Please do not attempt to contact anyone talked about in this video. Join the Patreon! ⁠⁠https://www.patreon.com/SnookYT ⁠Follow me on instagram and Spotify! If your story or post was included in today's video and you wish for it to be taken down, please reach out to this email. [e-mail] And yes, I'm a human voice.NEXT SUB GOAL - 1,000,000 subscribers! So make sure to subscribe! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Hey, what's up guys, and welcome back to another Reddit Stories video. You guys continue to ask for more of these videos, so I will keep making them. I mean, they're a lot of fun to make and record, and I keep finding better and better stories. So sit back, relax, and if you're new here, subscribe, it's this channel's goal to be at 250,000 subscribers by the end of the year. And I think we can do it, so please subscribe. And all right, anyways, let's get into the first story. Strange encounter while hunting in rural Texas. True story. This happened when I was growing up around 2004 or 2005 when I was about 13 years old. It took place in a rural area, a good ways outside the

town of Evolve, Texas. The town itself was really small back then and not much to look at, and it's one of those towns that really isn't on the way to anywhere important. My father knew someone who owned a deer lease that was about 1,000 acres, I think, down outside of that area and was complaining about a ton of hogs that were tearing up their land. Being open season on hogs in the south, my dad thought he would surprise me that summer and take me down for a week to go hunting for them. Not only did that help him with networking for his job, but also gave us some quality father-suntime. I remember that drive down there from Dallas was torture. It was about seven hours in my dad's hardtop Jeep Wrangler. That car was so uncomfy.

I hated it. All had to do was either stare out my window or try and beat Super Mario Land 2 on my Game Boy Pocket, something I was never able to accomplish in my youth. The drive, obviously, took most of the day, so we got there in the early evening. The owner of the land had told my dad that he hadn't had anyone else. lease it that year yet, and the cabin in the property might be a little rough and dusty. I didn't really care. At this point in my life, I had been in scouts for a couple of years and spent a lot of my free time in the woods or fishing with friends. Needless to say, I was pretty comfortable roughing it.

So after unlocking the gate and driving to the cabin on the land, we settled in. The cabin was pretty rough, dust and dirt everywhere. Flies. I remember that it looked like some raccoons had gotten into the cabin and crapped on the floor. After cleaning up a bit and getting the sleeping bags out, then setting up the cots, we decided to sleep. Something about that night was weird. I never was able to get comfortable enough to fall asleep for any restful amount. I couldn't put my finger on why, but I had the feeling of being watched. I was finally able to drift off for what I guess was an hour, maybe. When we woke up, it was early, about 7 a.m. We decided to scat around the land for tracks and signs of hogs and find a good place to set up a blind. It was the summer and

horribly hot in afternoon, so morning was the best time to be out and about. After walking for an hour or so, we came to an area of trees, lightly dense, and luckily found some signs of hogs, typically torn up ground where they had been rooting, so we followed them into the trees. I was looking for more signs when my dad stopped me with his arm. I remember looking up and seeing someone standing about 50 yards away. Some of their body was blocked by trees. This was private land, so they definitely weren't supposed to be there. We also had confirmation from the owner before we got to the lease that nobody was there,

not to mention the gate was locked up when we first arrived. The person was wearing some bright colored red jacket. We slowly walked toward them. My dad called out something like, hey, we're hunters. This is private land. The person didn't move at all, dead still. We were about 30 yards away and could see that he was turned away from us with his hands in his pockets. Weird thing was that the person was in a ski jacket and what looked like to be ski pants.

Now, this is Texas in the summer. It was about 98 degrees outside by then. My dad called out again. No reaction. He told me to stay behind him. and unsnapped the clip to his pistol holster. That's all we had at the time, since we were only scouting the area.

The rifles were back at the cabin. We approached the person's right side, and then my dad told me to stay put about 20 yards away. I stayed and crouched down. Watched him circle around to the front of the man, all while talking to him, asking if he was okay. He finally passed around to the front of the man, and my dad stood straight up with a confused,

on his face, I called out and said, what's wrong? And he called back saying, it's a mannequin. I walked over to it while my dad stood there staring, and as I got closer, one thing stood out the most. The clothes it was wearing were brand new, no dust, no sap, no bird droppings, no signs of being outside for more than, more than a day at most. At that moment, I looked at my dad and could see him get worried. Almost immediately after I felt that feeling too. Like we were being watched and I knew my dad felt it too. I wanted to start crying. I remember feeling suddenly so scared. My dad whispered, we're leaving right now. He grabbed my hand and drew his pistol. He scanned the area the whole way back while I was trying to hold back panicked tears. We got back as fast as we could. I was terrified so it felt

like an eternity, but in reality it was only about 45 minutes max. After returning, we packed up and beat feet. We drove back home that day and didn't talk much on the way back. I remember right after we left, my dad called his buddy, the owner of the land, and he was confused. He said that he would go check it out next week when he was in the area. He also said that he had never had an issue with people because his property was high fenced. My dad normally isn't a paranoid person, but me being young and the least possibly having someone there we didn't know about. He decided to be cautious and just get out of there. After we got back home, we talked and my dad wasn't able to sleep the night before as well. He had the same feeling, but didn't want to

wake me up because he thought I was sleeping too. Turns out that next week, he got a call from his buddy and he checked the whole property and never found a trace of anyone, no mannequin or anything. This story still makes my hair stand on end. No idea what that was, but the paranoid man in me thinks it was some kind of trap or something. Not the creepiest thing that ever happened to me in the woods, but deaf top three, so whoever was out there, I'm glad we never met. My first time backpacking. These events occurred two summers ago in the Grand Teton area.

My boyfriend at the time, now husband, let's call him H, was an avid outdoorsman and also served in the military. I was an ecology major and wanted to spend more times outdoors, so he decided to take me on my first backpacking trip, just the two of us. For those who aren't familiar, the Grand Teton's are well known for their wildlife, specifically grizzly bears. My only experience with bears up to this point was watching a little black bear cross the road from the safety of my car. Seeing grizzly, country, signs around every corner wasn't doing much to calm my nerves. The first incident. My boyfriend looked like Indiana Jones, machete hanging from his belt, large knives attached to each side of its pack, bear spray strapped to his waist.

You get the picture. The beginning of our 25-mile journey was all uphill. When in Bear Country, you're supposed to make noise as to not start of the wildlife by accidentally sneaking up on it. As you can imagine, going up a steep hill while carrying a 40-pound pack makes it difficult to make conversation. We were in an hour in, and almost at the top of the ascent, I noticed that the woods had gone completely silent. Save for the rushing stream that was to our left of the trail. Silent woods are never a good sign. They usually indicates predators nearby. At this point, I was in front of my boyfriend and we were about to crest the hill.

For the past 20 minutes, we had not said a word to each other, having been too tired to speak. We noticed the silence at the time and gave each other knowing glances. I came up over the top of the hill and immediately froze. Sitting not 10 feet in front of me in the middle of the trail was a grizzly bear. My husband wasn't aware yet and he was behind me, so I did the first thing I could think of. While still, in my frozen stance, I managed to take my arm and started flinging it wildly behind me trying to get H's attention. I was too terrified to speak. The bear went from sitting to all fours, not looking away from us once.

H quickly swung me around so that I was behind him, and he just started yelling. Being in the military, he knows how to yell. The grizzly wasn't quite phased, as it started to walk slowly. towards us. At this point, I was on the verge of passing out from terror. This bear was about five feet in front of us when we heard a loud, crack, coming from the woods to our right. The bear heard it too, and he bolted towards the stream. A second, crack, boomed again. This time, much closer than before, H said it's probably just some falling branches, but we both knew that wasn't just the case. At this point, we were walking quickly up the trail in an attempt to create some

distance from the grizzly and those strange noises. I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up and at the same moment H stopped moving in front of me. He turned around to look at me and I turned to look behind me. To this day, we are not sure what we saw. Back where we were standing was a large, blacker, brown mass. It looked to be three times bigger than the already a large grizzly that we had seen just a few moments before. Its back was facing us, and then it stood on its back legs. It looked similar to a bear, but something about the shape was just off. At this point, it was probably stupid to run away, but that is exactly what we did.

We were aware of heavy footsteps behind us, but neither of us looked back. The footsteps eventually faded. At this point, I was a mess. Age was doing his best to console me. Honey, this is extremely unusual. The bears usually stay away from humans. We're going to be okay. I'm sure that won't happen again.

That was enough to convince me to continue on the backpack. Not another hour later, though. We reached a clearing where we decided to take a rest and eat a snack. About a minute after we had sat down, I noticed bushes moving in a line towards the clearing towards us. Out of the brush comes this adolescent grizzly, who looks just as spooked as I'm sure we did, but he came straight for us. Age, being the crazy nut that he is, decided to charge back at the bear while screaming

and bear spray at the ready. That did the trick and the bear ran off. All I could think was just my luck. But that wasn't even close to what happened the second night. Second night. Before we began our backpacking, we had to let the ranger station know which trails and route we plan to take. With this information, they usually send a ranger on horseback at some point during the backpacking to check on you to make sure everything is okay. There were not many approved

trails left for us to choose from, and it was just our luck that they were the most difficult. Apparently, over the three days we were on those trails, we had been the sole hikers. We didn't see a single other person once we were en route. Anyhow, I guess we missed the ranger who came to check on us. We had been following hoof prints the entire second day, and we hadn't seen any the day before. I had some foot problems, so we spent valuable daylight trying to adjust my boot, laces and socks to compensate for my pain. When we started on the trail again, we had maybe an hour or two of daylight left, and in the woods it gets dark fast. I was exhausted. It was now dark out, and H was the only one with a working headlamp, as mine

wouldn't even turn on for some reason. We needed to find somewhere to set up camp as we still needed to eat. It was freezing and the wind was blowing hard. It was creating a howling sound as it rushed through the trees, which made it difficult to hear H or discern any other sounds coming from the woods. After another hour of hiking through the dark, we found a clearing. Well, it was more like a bowl. It looked to be 200 meters in diameter with the sides being 10 meters down from the trail to the bottom of the clearing. This place was strange. We both felt it, though he didn't tell me how freaked out he was till after we had left. There was no moonlight, so all we had was the illumination from his headlamp, our small camp stove in the flashlight

that I had fished from my pack. Half of the trees were dead or fallen just in the bowl. The vegetation everywhere else was very dense to help alleviate my anxiousness. He started playing ninja sex party out of his portable speaker. This didn't help much as it just echoed off the trees creating a dissident sounds. He also thought it would ward off any predators nearby. This is when we knew our anxiousness wasn't paranoia. The silence was back. There hadn't been a single bird chirp since we arrived at the clearing. It also may have had to do with the obnoxious music, but because of our previous experience, we decided to turn off the music and head into the tent. Also, it was freezing. As soon as we were situated in our sleeping bags, we heard deep cracks in thuds echoing

from beyond the tree line. Falling trees? There had been a lot of wildfires and very little rain this season. Thud, we both froze. That sound wasn't an echo. It came from inside the clearing. Definitely not a falling tree. Thud, it came from right outside our tent. We both stopped breathing. H's hand-found mind, and we clung to each other, paralyzed. Something dragged across the outside of our tent, making an indent as it went along. It was thin, almost like a finger. What is it? I whispered. Shaking.

I don't know. Shouldn't be a person. We're the only ones on this side of the mountain. I was trying my hardest to stifle sobs, trying to listen to what was outside. I could hear steps, but couldn't decipher whatever. it was. The step stopped, and then the whole side of the tent was slowly pushed inwards. At this point, whatever was outside knew we were inside, so I shined my flashlight at the side of the tent. What I saw made my blood run cold. It was the shape of a human face pressed into the tent

wall. I could make out the nose and an open mouth. Each time they breathed in made the tent around their mouth, billow in and out, age said, fuck that, and pulled a clock from his sleeping bag. He cocked it, and the sound shattered the silence. The face pulled back, and we heard fast footsteps heading towards the edge of the clearing. We didn't leave the tent till the sun was shining the next morning. The first thing we noticed was the smell of urine. We came out of the tent and looked around.

Whoever it was had peed on our coals we had left it in the fire, leaving a discreet. disgusting stench of evaporated pee. Footprints surrounded our tent, circling around multiple times. Muddy handprints decorated the outside of our tent. We think it was mud anyway. The takeaway, wildlife is not the most dangerous thing in the backcountry. Cutting firewood in the mountains of central Idaho. In many rural areas of the American West, cutting firewood in national forest is a necessary chore if you want a warm house through the winter. Our home in mountainous central Idaho was no exception. It was normal for my dad to pick me and my brothers up after school and head into the mountains for an afternoon of firewood gathering. My dad would fell the dead trees, then saw them into chunks.

My brothers and I had the task of rolling the wood to the truck and loading it. We would continue this assembly line process until we had a truckload of wood, usually before nightfall. hot, sweaty, and exhausted, we would pile into the truck cab and make our way down the mountain. At home the next day, we would unload and split the wood and stack it into neat little rows. This process was repeated until we had a winter's worth of fuel for our house, our grandma's cabin, and any extra for elderly neighbors. This particular afternoon, we decided to try a different logging road on the other side of the valley. This was well outside our familiar logging area.

No real reason for the change, but my dad said he wanted a change of scenery. The logging road hadn't been maintenance in some time. Large rocks and fallen branches littered the path. My brothers and I had to watch out in front, pushing rocks and wood out of the way as my dad lurched the truck up the switchbacks. Yard by yard, we slowly made our way up the mountain. That hike was physically brutal. As we ascended the mountain and got further into the trees, this odd feeling started to set in.

I wasn't sure if it was the exhaustion from the hike or something more. There was an electricity in the air, like the whole mountain was buzzing at a wavelength just below my senses. In some odd way, it felt like the mountain knew we were there, and it wasn't welcome to the fact. I wanted to say something to my brothers, but before I opened my mouth, my younger brother said, does anyone else feel like we're not welcome here? My older brother and I stopped in our tracks and looked at him. Both of us nodded in agreement. This moment was broken by my dad honking and motioning us to continue clearing the path. Reluctantly, we pushed forward to a small clearing in the woods where we finally

stopped the truck. My dad, oblivious to our apprehension or simply choosing to ignore it, grabbed his saw and went to work. As the wood was felled and loaded, I couldn't shake this ominous feeling enveloping me like a dark shroud. I noticed my brothers were taking occasional glances over their shoulders as we worked. Everyone but my dad, it seemed, was on edge. The sun nestled down into the trees and twilight began to set in. As the light drained from the sky, my anxiety only intensified. It wasn't until my dad unexpectedly told us to load up that a wave of relief flooded over me. I could see the tension in my brothers melt away as well. The truck wasn't fully loaded in oddity. Getting a half load was a waste, according to my dad. We would sometimes work into the

dark just to make sure the truck was full, but tonight he seemed eager to head home. With everything loaded, we started down the road. Although dead tired, everyone seemed to be in a much lighter mood. We were chatting and cracking jokes while trying to blow off steam from the afternoon. We were almost out of the tree line and into the valley desert. Going down the switchbacks, you want to be careful, especially with a load, even if it was half that. A brown blur jumped from the downslope side of the switchback. Shit was the only word that came out of my dad's mouth as he slammed on the brakes. Loaded with wood and traveling downhill, there was no way to avoid smashing into the blur. The truck finally ground to his standstill. The four of us peered through the windshield, nobody saying a word,

illuminated in a yellow glow of headlights was a crumpled body of deer. Grumbling and cursing the deer's existence, my dad exited the truck to investigate. Doing, as they were told, my brothers stayed put in the truck. I didn't listen, following clothes behind my dad. The truck was fine. We hadn't been traveling fast when we smacked the deer, just some hair and blood in the grill guard. Hitting a deer really wasn't that unusual.

The mountains were full of them. What was unusual was the deer. deer dropped so quickly. At faster speeds, deer could still be upright and sprinting away to die in the woods after a collision. That last burst of an adrenaline dump. This one fell over like a rag doll. Before even approaching the carcass a deep, foul smell hit us. Deer smelled bad when they're alive, but this was on a whole other level. It was the smell of decay and rot. My stomach began to turn as we got closer. My nostrils were burning. Coming up on the deer, it was clearly dead. really, really dead. The stench was so overwhelming my eyes were watering. The body was a true

horror scene. The deer's eyes were gone, replaced with sunken, hollow, hole. As if to overcommit's safe for their absence, the tongue was swollen in black as coal. It could not be contained in, hung out the side of its mouth. The underbelly was split open, entrails and awful spilled into the dirt. In the dim headlights, it looked as though the deer's fur was viscera were moving. Wiggling almost. Holding my breath, I bent down for a closer look at my heart stopped. The deer inside and out was covered in maggots. It was dead all right, but our truck didn't kill it. It clearly was dead for days, if not weeks. I backed away, retching. That electric anxiety came screaming back. My dad was always the quiet, stoic type, but right now, even in the dim headlights,

to the truck, I could see the object horror in his face. His gaze wasn't on the deer, but focused down the mountain. Poorly masking the fear in his voice, he told me firmly to walk back to the truck and get inside. I obeyed without objection. As I grabbed the door, handle, a loud shriek came out of the trees. Branches were shattering and breaking. Something was heading up the slope towards us. I slammed my door closed just as my dad reached the truck. Before his door was shut, he pressed on the accelerator. The truck launched forward, sending us over the deer carcass and racing downhill. With mine and my brother's yelling, it was hard to tell if the shrieking was following us. Our truck popped out of the tree line and into the desert sagebrush. Once out of the woods,

everything quieted down. We were left with only a rumble of the engine and wind through the half-open windows. Pulling into our property, the truck came to a stop. We sat in silence. No one moved to leave the Everyone started talking at once. We all had questions. What was that screaming? How does a dead deer jump up hill in front of a truck? There was no way the truck killed it. Dad just shook his head and motioned us to quiet down.

That deer was dead when we hit it. It didn't jump out in front of us. It was thrown at us. We stared at him. He explained that all day up on the mountain he had felt uneasy. Not wanting to worry us, boys. He kept it to himself. He described it like walking into a stranger's living room while they were upstairs asleep.

That feeling never left him and as Twilight came, he happened to catch a shadow in the corner of his eye, not far into the woods and saw figures moving from tree to tree. He couldn't focus on them long enough for a good look before they dodged behind trees. His stomach dropped. Working hard to keep his composure, he hurried us to the truck to leave. It was after hitting the deer and discovering it. it was long dead that my dad pieced together what was happening. Something through that deer to get us to stop. Before the shrieking began, he could hear something moving in the darkness beyond the road.

It was a trap. Running back to the truck could have started an ambush or triggered a prey drive. So we walked back to the truck. The second we were inside, he drove that truck downhill with no intention of stopping for anyone or anything. That feeling of electricity didn't disappear until we hit the county highway. My brothers and I never saw anything as we drove away, but those screams from the forest will never leave my mind. We didn't gather firewood the rest of the season. For the first time in his life, my dad just bought what we needed. And although we started to gather wood again the next season, we've never been back up that particular mountain. The forest service has permanently closed and reclaim that road. The only way back up into those woods is a long hike. One, I'm not interested in

ever taken again. Whatever was on that mountain, whatever through that deer carcass, whatever chased us out of the woods, it did not want us there. It wanted us gone or worse. It wanted us dead. And all right, that wraps up, eerie Reddit stories. I hope you enjoy this one. This one was more like woods themed so hopefully you enjoyed that and i mean you watch the end so like and subscribe it helps the channel a lot and uh yeah until next time see ya