Snook - Reddit Wendigo Encounters

Episode Date: March 15, 2026

Wendigo's are some of the most terrifying creatures out there... today we are getting into some Wendigo Encounter stories. Please rate the show 5 stars and follow the podcast! Thank you guys for watching, let me know if you would like to see more content like this in the future! Thanks for watching, like and subscribe. 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.NEXT SUB GOAL - 250,000 SUBSCRIBERS Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Hey, what's up guys and welcome back to another Reddit Stories video. In this video, we'll focus on mainly Wendigo stories, so pretty spooky, but I'm excited to get into it. So sit back, relax, and if you're new here, subscribe, is the 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. When to Go Encounter I've been debating on sharing this story with anyone outside of my small circle of people that were there. But I want to share my experience in hopes that it saves someone's life or to give understanding of what someone else has experienced. This was late fall of 2010.

In northern Canada, I went deep into the wilderness with my father and my eldest brother to hunt for moose. We left in the early morning, just before sunrise trying to cover as much distance as possible before nightfall. We traveled winding rivers and had to repeatedly portraits over rapids all day, We decided to set up camp just over halfway to our destination. My father figured that we'd make the rest of our journey tomorrow. Well, when everyone bedded down for the night, I decided to go grab some firewood and relieve myself down by the bank of the river. Just out of the reach of the light from the campfire.

Out from the tree line about 15 yards away, I could hear rustling in the bushes. I watched the area where I heard the noise and focused on that spot. I kind of felt funny, dizzy, or lightheaded, and I could smell this putrid stink like old milk or rotten food. Then I saw the tree started to morph and move, ever so slightly, and began to take the shape of a head and slight facial features. My eyes began to adjust to the darkness and along the tree line. I could hear this voice coming from there. I recognized it.

The voice sounded like one of my relatives who had recently passed. The face took the shape of my relative. Hello, they said. I've missed you. come see me. I smiled and stepped forward a bit, but stopped to analyze the situation. My relative's face stopped smiling and became emotionless. The skin began to turn pale and peel away. Chunks of flesh from their cheeks began to fall away, and I felt shock and fear overall my body. I couldn't make sense of it all, so I started to back away and made my way to camp.

I didn't realize at the time that I had been walking towards the voice and was further away from the firelight. The voice became angry and began shouting at me to come here. So I turned to run away, but as I looked back one more time, I saw the most disgusting thing I have ever seen. It was rotting flesh on knot bone, caved in eyes and a hollow chest cavity. This humanoid creature was tall and super thin. I ran as fast as I could. Trying to yell for help, but the fear has made my voice quiet and raspy. I ran along the riverbank and I could hear the heavy breaths and the stomping feet from this thing right behind me. I made it onto the top of the riverbank, but it grabbed a hold of my leg as I jumped. I gripped in a tour, the grass trying to lift myself and yelled as loud as I could,

then finally my voice came back and I yelled that someone has my leg. My brother woke up and ran over to where I was, then he pulled me up and took me over to the fire. I was terrified, trying to explain what I saw and that it looked like my relative but not. I was trying to convince them that I wasn't seeing things, but my brother nodded his head and said, I saw it too. I know. That solidified it. He acknowledged that it was real. We stayed up all night after that. Rifles loaded and close by. We packed up when the sun was coming up and went back home. We haven't shared that story with anyone out of fear of being labeled as crazy or liars. I've had nightmares and couldn't sleep for months afterwards. I would see things or dark figures looking into my window or hear whispers when I was

walking home at night. Eventually I was seeing this dark figure daily. I went to medicine, man, or shaman for help, but I've learned that ceremonies only relieved it temporary. Friends have given me everything from protection pouches to certain crystals. I found out that there's a strong possibility that I encountered a Wendigo. I learned that if you encounter one and survive, it attaches itself to you like a parasite. I learned that I could only do this if it touches you, which it did. Ever since that night, I've been on edge when I enter any forest or wooded area, which sucks because I loved being outdoors, hunting, and in nature. Now I always feel like I need to keep my back again something when I'm out in the wild. Anyways, make your own conclusions about

this. I've paid a price for being an ignorant child to the stories of old. They are real. I'm I can attest to that. Stay safe, everyone. My Wendigo Encounter. This story takes place in the backcountry of the area I grew up in. Be warned, some of this may be too frightening for some. Reader discretion is advised. So back in 2019, I remember there being a big uproar of unknown creatures roaming the forest,

like Bigfoot and Skinwalkers, but this story isn't about them. This story is about probably one of the scariest things I think I've ever. heard about. The Wendigo. A few months ago, after one of my friends Jacob mentioned the big uproar, I went to go see him since I had been enlisted away in the United States Marines. I got back after being discharged and one of the first things I did was go up and see him. We're having a good old time and he brought up the idea of going out to a little hangout spot his new ex-girlfriend took him to when they wanted to get away for a few hours. So I decided, why not? So I grabbed my gun and we went out to this extremely secluded area and started messing around on the old dock that was there.

It had pretty much been forgotten by the looks of it, poorly maintained, and some boards were almost completely rotted through. So about 30 minutes into our shenanigans, Jacob brought up the topic of the Wendigo. The name sounded a little scary even for me. Curious, though, I asked him about it. He said that if you went into the woods and said Wendigo three times, you would come across the scariest-looking thing you... have ever seen. Me calling his bluff I told him to prove it. To this day, I wish I hadn't.

We start walking on this little path that leads deep into the thick woods close to the Alabama state line. We walked for maybe 20-ish minutes and decided we were in a good spot. I feel it's worth noting that it had been raining a lot over the past few days, so the ground was completely saturated with water. I turned to Jacob and he dares me to do it. I stood there in complete silence. The rest of the the forest was almost silent as well, besides the tall pine swaying in the wind high above her heads. Reluctantly, I slowly started to say it. Wendigo. Wendigo.

When to go. Then nothing happened. I let out a silent sigh of relief at the fact that nothing happened. One thing about mine and Jacob's friendship is we loved it when one of us proved the other wrong about something. In our friendship of ten years, I think, it was one of the first times I had proven wrong at anything. We started to talk a little bit of shit back and forth at each other when we heard a noise in the distance. Me still having the reflexes I had from the Marines, I immediately snapped towards the direction of the noise that were just then turning into noises. I started to move closer

to the noises and then shortly after we saw a few coyotes running across the path about 30 feet in front of us. I breathed another sigh of relief, but that relief didn't last long since I knew something was up. I didn't know what was up at first, but I just knew it was time for me and Jacob to leave. As we turned to leave the woods, all of a sudden, a tall pine tree started to groan and creak as it started to come down. Noticing this and in a moment of pure instinct, I shoved Jacob forward as the tree came falling through the rest of the branches and landed right in between us. Jacob let out a cry of terror as the tree landed and I hopped the tree to get to him. I could feel his heart pounding like a drum as I grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him to his feet.

He was still terrified and still practically crying as I screamed at the top of my lungs. Move Jacob. Fucking move now. I spun him around really hard, causing him to fall to his knees. I quickly got him up and we both started to sprint down the path back in the direction we came. I didn't dare look back and neither did Jacob. I was sprinting through the woods when a familiar sound came from behind me. Jacob, come quick. It was the sound. I was the sound. I was the sound. I was the of Jacob's younger sister Olivia. He turned and tried to get past me the whole time he was screaming Olivia. I stopped him and said, Jacob, look at me. It's not her. Do you hear me? It's not her. Just then, another pine tree started to buckle. I saw it just in time to tackle Jacob down to the

ground as both of us were nearly crushed. I screamed at Jacob once more. Go. Get out of here. Go now. As I was screaming that I pulled out my gun out of my waistband and aimed it down the trail in the direction from whence it came. Jacob made it to the opening of the trail and turned back and noticed I was still aiming my gun down the trail. Bradley, get out of here. Come on, hurry. I turned and started sprinting towards him. As I made it into the clearing a good 50 feet, I turned and me and Jacob both saw it. The thing we had ushered into showing itself, the Wendigo. It stood about nine feet tall on its hind legs. There was practically no meat on its bones. It had really skinny legs, skinnier arms. Its skin, a pale white, almost like a vampire's, but the thing I noticed the most

about it were the eyes, a vibrant blue, almost like a lightsaber blue for those who have seen Star Wars. Having had enough fear, I raised my gun and fired at the Wendigo. Jacob, not sticking around to see if I had killed it, he turned and ran towards the car. I turned and did the same thing as he passed me. That was my first experience with this so-called Wendigo. And I was my first experience with this so-called Wendigo. And I pray, almost every night I never have to encounter something that terrifying again. I think I had an encounter with a Skinwalker or a Wendigo. I'm 25 male. I live in Utah and I'm curious if any of you have seen anything like this before.

I'm pretty sure I saw a Wendigo or a Skinwalker. I know it sounds strange or crazy. I don't really believe in those things and I'm regularly skeptical when it comes to the paranormal. This happened to me when I was 17 and in high school and living with my parents. My house at the time was in a very small town. The backyard faced open empty fields and mountains for miles before he reached another civilization at all. My best friend lived next door and shared this field as a backyard in a way. I have to explain that his house was built on a different street that ended in the field with a small cul-de-sac.

I think there was supposed to be more houses built on the street to explain the town, but they clearly never got around to it. So his driveway was basically in this cul-de-sac, even though no other houses were built there. This matters later in the story, though. I used to stay the night at my friend's house a lot in high school because I didn't have the best relationship with my parents. Every once in a while, we would wake up to hear dragging

in a weird gargling sound from the back porch. His room was a basement room with the window well to his back porch. It would happen maybe a couple times a month, but whenever we would gather the courage to check, nothing would be back there. This happened for years. One night haunts my friend and I to this day. My friend was getting ready to move, and we would stay up all night playing games and watching movies. We decided to go on a music drive to just vibe.

So we hop in his truck with high beams and swung out of the driveway, turning them on towards the field to use the roundabout. The light illuminated this thing. It looked like a person, but it wasn't. It was naked on all fours. abnormally large, especially its limbs that seem to fold under itself in an unnatural way. Its pale skin clung to it like it had to be stretched onto it, but the part that still sends shivers down my spine is its face. Its jaw hung open to this gaping black maw, like a snake

unhinging its jaw to eat. Its black eyes glistened in the light as it looked at us, but just as it turned to see us, it quickly scurried backwards almost like it was on rewind into the brush of the field. My friend and I were pale as ghosts. We both looked at each other and were like, did you see that too? We were shaken. Let's just say we tried to have a good rest of the night,

but we couldn't believe what we just saw. We ended up just sitting there in his basement with guns ready and waiting to hear the gargling and dragon again. But we never did. Sorry that it's not very climatic, but it's true. I now don't live in that town anymore. There are times going to visit there, though. The empty field still feels like it's watching and waiting.

Even though I can't see it, I can still feel like it's out there. Possible Wendigo Encounter Hey everyone, not sure if this is the right place to post this, but I'm definitely spooked. Also my very first Reddit post, so sorry if it's a little jumbled. So today, my friend, let's call her ray, and I were in my car at night. Windows rolled down and screaming our heads off to loud music. We were feeling absolutely happy, laughing and having a good. great time overall while driving around the rich neighborhoods looking at huge mansions.

Now here comes what spooked us majorly. We start getting a little put off because of how dark this road was. Plus, we were going into the middle of a forested area and everything around us was getting darker and darker. I had to turn on the brights on my car. Now, we still didn't say anything to each other seriously, only joking around being a little nervous and getting weird vibes. I make this mistake of turning down a forked road, and immediately we feel sick to our stomachs, both at the same time. I just looked at her, and we both started saying about how something is not right. It was such an urgent feeling of terror, dread, knowing something terrible was going to happen if we stopped the car. We felt like we had to roll the windows up

because we wanted to be safer. Once we finally sped up and started leaving, I felt an intense feeling of something watching us, and I just could not make myself turn to look to my side of the forest or behind us. The second we got off that road, it felt like a weight came off our shoulders, again at that same time. I've never felt this terrified before, with such a huge pit in my stomach and sense of dread. What was that? Seriously, I have no idea what happened or why we started feeling that way suddenly. I'm so scared, even just thinking about it gives me goosebumps all over. Has anyone else experienced something like this? Or do you know what it might have been?

Edit. Sorry for my lack of education on what Wendigos or other creatures of that sort actually are. I heard from people around me that that's the feeling you get when they are around you. But I might be totally wrong. Something was definitely up, though. Whatever it was. How My Father Survived an Encounter with a Wendigo. All know the feeling of hunger, and yet some have never seen it.

You yourself may have claimed to be starving, empty, famished, or hungry, but have you ever encountered the merciless beast we call hunger? Have you ever considered that thing you call starving? Is only the fingernail of the monster that plagues the minds and souls of the innocent and sane, breathing down your neck, incline at your skin with blood-covered nails, desperate to get inside. Only blocked from you gobbling down cheeseburgers, pizza, donuts, fruits, and veggies. and yet some have come close to hunger. Some of the worst instances of mass hunger known as famines have plagued us for centuries. Ireland, 1845.

Russia, 1921. China, 1959. And yet even in these states of hunger, when people's teeth were not and broken from eating leather and dirt, and animals had a feast of the bones and rotten flesh of human remains, very few have ever seen hunger. Few have seen the Wendigo. All the Wendigo ever feels is hunger, for it is hunger.

You may have heard of the Wendigo, seen drawings of it, but for the few have seen it. For most, it was the last thing they ever saw. I haven't seen it. No, thank God I haven't seen it. Yet the blood that runs in my family have seen it, stared at it in its hollow eyes. This is not my story. This is my father's. When I was around the age of 15, he told me to sit down next to.

to him, pointing to the brown cloth chair. I was old enough to know, he told me, why he never lets me set foot in the woods, why we never go up north, especially never went into winter. I recorded it all. He requested for that, wanted a record of what happened to him, to make sure no one else went through it like he did. This is what he told me. My father's story.

He takes out a cigarette and clicks a ladder until a small blaze, he takes a little bit of a small blaze and puts the small flame to his cigarette, taking a puff before starting. My uncle decided it was time for me to visit the Great Lakes Forest, told me. The woods were some of the most beautiful in the whole country. It took a lot of convincing until your grandfather decided it was fine for me to visit the north. Of course, when he made the decision, it was winter by then. The winter down here is a light breeze compared to the freeze up in the north, cold days and dark, icy nights.

It's a wonder how the Native Americans managed to survive the month. of thick snow and the creatures that came with it. He pauses to take another puff of a cigarette before continuing. This didn't stop my uncle, who had prepared in case we had to go during the winter, for both me and him as if we were going to the Arctic, thick puffy jackets, fat boots, and gloves as well as goggles in case we came upon a storm on the walk, as well as bear spray if we came across wild animals. He also packed something else.

caliber action express Desert Eagle, the ones those cops used in the movies. He didn't actually expect to use it. It was just in case we came across a bear or a lynx, and things got close and personal. He pauses and stares at his right leg. He definitely didn't think we needed it for something different. It was around mid-November when we took the plane to the state of Michigan. He had purchased a standard hotel room in a small town. He refused to mention its name. And we spent a few days simply getting used to the sceneries of where we were. My uncle's right. It was beautiful, actually. I don't even think the word beautiful cuts it. I can see the edge of the forest by my window. They were tall, like long hairs protruding from the head of Mother Nature, and along those hairs

lied the fleas, squirrels, chipmunks, birds, and the occasional wolf and fox would pass by, before disappearing in the shadow of the trees. I'll tell you, even now I do miss seeing the trees, watching the wind blow the tall branches in harmony. He sighs and puts out a cigarette on his wooden chair, but I know I can never go back there. Almost every day we went on hikes, with the snow crunching beneath their feet, stopping every so often to witness the wildlife. Once or twice we came across a bear. I was scared, of course, but my uncle had faced plenty in his time living there, so of course he knew what to do. Don't look them in the eyes, he would whisper to me, as he pulled out his bear spray just in case, and eventually he would move along, searching for some berries

to eat. It was around our second week there when my uncle decided to take me on my first night walk, so we put on our coats, snow boots, and brought along the desert spray and Desert Eagle. It was somehow even more gorgeous in the dark than it was in the day. The stars flowed above us like fireflies, welcoming us to the forest, as the moon as big and bright as it ever hovered above us. We walked until we came upon a fork in the path. We usually would go left, as it much longer, so we would experience the forest longer. But it was a lot colder than usual, so my uncle decided it was best to get back sooner than later. For some reason, the colder weather did hang in my mind for longer than it should have. Although the weather would be unpredictable, the weather knew where I

was was more accurate than the ones down in the north. This thought slept in my mind eventually, reasoning that every news channel got it wrong eventually. So we continued. But as we went in, it just kept getting colder. And colder. By this point, my uncle repeatedly kept looking up at the sky, with a bewildered look on his face. Looking up I saw not a single cloud in the sky.

Nothing to indicate a snowstorm was coming, or anything that would cause the weather to get this cold. Soon my uncle put me close to him to make us warmer. It wasn't a long hiked back, just a mile or more. Then it was clear something was wrong, more than the weather. As we kept walking, we stepped, fast steps. My uncle jerked his head in that direction, instinctively pulling out his bear spray.

Looking past him, I could clearly see several pairs of eyes in the shadows of the trees moving fast, moving towards us. My uncle had quickly raised the bear spray and put himself in front of me, screaming to get packed. Looking over, I could now clearly see it was a wolf, mouths open, panting and stamping its feet on the ground. Creating loud cracks, the snow fell beneath them. Looking up, my uncle had his finger straight on the bear spray trigger, ready to blast them straight in the shouted faces. Then the wolves ran right past us, I mean right past us. They were maybe 10 feet away from us at most, moving so fast I could feel a small gust of wind to push past against my face. My uncle put down the bear spray and

looked around dusty, in complete utter confusion encompassing his whole face. That's when I saw more eyes. He motions his hand in a circle around him. There had to be dozens of critters and birds running. They didn't even stop to look at us. They were just running. All the animals I had feared, all the critters and birds, and all sorts of things in the woods I stared at in amazement just days before. All of them were running. I had never seen anything like it. in my life, nor did my uncle. He decided that it was time to go, most likely because whatever the animals were running from was something that we didn't want to come across. Now my uncle was someone that doesn't get scared easily. From the stories your grandfather told me, he had faced death more

times than he could count, coming across an angry grizzly, a hungry pack of wolves, and even someone pointing a gun at him straight in his face. Even then, I didn't see fear in his face, but looking into his eyes, I could see worry, and that was enough I needed to know. Our standard walk had turned into a jog, with uncle deciding that it would be fast to go off the trail through the woods. On the trail, there was a clear opening overhead for the light of the moon and stars to shine through, but off the trail, the pine needles blocked most of the light that came through, with small beams piercing the thick hide here and there. My uncle just kept walking straight, straight towards the town. He probably, he probably,

just had a half a mile left when he suddenly stopped, making me bump into his back. He didn't move, didn't even make a sound, almost like he had stopped breathing. Uncle? I asked in a squally voice. I looked ahead of him, my heart pounding against my sternum as it pumped blood like a bicycle pump. Up ahead was the outline of a person, though it was too far away to see any facial features or any features at all. It was, I don't know. Thirty seconds before. my uncle started backing up, gesturing me to do the same. Hello? Can we help you?

I heard a tremble. It was a small one, but it was enough to tell me everything I needed to know. My uncle, one of the coolest people I've ever known, was scared. Slowly, ever so slowly, my uncle put his hand behind his back, moving towards the bear spray. But my eyes nearly popped out when his hand went past the bear spray and moved towards the gun. crack. Up ahead I heard what sounded like a small twig break. In breaking eye contact with my uncle's hand, looked forward back at the figure. He had taken a step forward, stepping on a small branch that poked out of the layer of snow. And with that step, there was a new feeling in the air. It wasn't the cold,

it wasn't fear, it was hunger, in almost lustful amount of hunger. Look, my uncle said, as his hand still gradually moved towards the Desert Eagle? We don't. We don't. We don't want any trouble. We're just trying to get back to town, so if he could please, he didn't get to finish the sentence. By this point, my father stopped looking at me, instead looking out the window. It all happened too fast. First, there were the steps. Fast, rampant.

Each step came with a snarl. It was too fast for my uncle, too fast for me to process. What came next was the gunshot. It rang off the trees, bouncing back into my ears, making them wringing like a church bell. He got one shot off before it got to us. One shot off before it made him scream. It slammed into him, flinging both me and his gun to the left. Slamming me on the ground with a loud thud which knocked the wind right out of me. Oh God, this screams. It didn't kill him quickly. I didn't see it happen, but I heard the crunch of teeth growing through flesh and meeting bone.

It probably stopped there for a second to savor the taste of blood against its rotten teeth before it continued. I'm glad I didn't see it happen, but I could well damn hear it. Splish and splash as blood poured on the ground, as it continued to sink its teeth into his flesh, seemingly hard for it to hold back. He had enough of the taste, now it wanted to eat. Crunch after crunch came,

following by tearing and popping sounds. I think it was pulling the organs out of his stomach. Don't know how long I had my eyes closed, but the moment I opened them, I was facing away from them, and looking at the light that bounced off a silver object, the Desert Eagle. I stood up, still shaken from the fall. The funny thing was I wasn't scared. My brain must have taken a hit, making it difficult for me to process what was happening behind me.

I took a casual step forward, towards the gun, cracking the snow beneath my feet. And that's when the crunching stopped. That's what I remember where I was. We both turned around at the same time. Its eyes met mine, and my eyes met it, if you could call them eyes. I say this because I didn't even know if they were eyes. They were black and hollow and black. I say black because all there was and those eyes was black.

Then there was the rest of its body. I couldn't believe the thing that did that to my uncle was unbelievably skinny. Its ribs poked out of its chest, bones clearly seen through its slender arms and legs, there were antlers that looked like that of a deer protruding from its head. He pauses in things for a moment. No, it wasn't a head. It was a skull, because that's what it looked like. A skull with deer antlers coming from the top of its head, and even as it crouched I could see

it was tall, even towering over me in that stance. He both stared at each other for what felt like hours before it turned back around and continued eating what was left of my uncle. Did it even care that I was there? Why didn't it just attack me next? Just get it over with? I didn't stop to ask these questions. I just turned, picked up the gun, and ran.

For a second, I considered taking a shot, but I didn't know if my bullet, my uncle shot at it, hit it. If it did, then I don't think the bullets affected this thing. All I knew was I had to get away. So I kept running and running and running. What probably took just ten minutes felt like an eternity. And then I saw the lights of the town. I'm gonna make it, I thought.

Hope creeping up my spine and into my brain, and that's when I heard the distant footsteps. I turned around for a split second and felt that hope come crashing down all the way to my toes. There it was, probably just a thousand meters away. I could see its eyes. They weren't glowing or anything.

They were just so black they stood out even in the darkness. It was running. Running fast. I couldn't believe my eyes how fast this thing was wrong. running. I would bet all the money I have that this thing could easily be a gazelle high on cocaine. I turned my head back around and continued running, putting all my strength and energy into my legs to just get away from this thing. But the steps just kept getting closer and closer. Now today I understand why it didn't eat me before, because it knew that no matter how much

I tried to run, it would never fail to catch me. And it did. A jolt of pain tore through my leg when it clamped his teeth into my leg. The teeth reaching my femur and making a small crack in it. This thing had unimaginable strength to pick me up in its mouth and flung me several dozen feet. I landed head first, shock and pain staring at my head, spreading through my entire body. But soon the pain was going away. As I felt myself slipping away out of consciousness. In the background, I heard it crunching, savoring the little bit of meat it got out of my leg. This is it. This is how. I'm going to die. I believed it. I truly believed it, but then I heard it. Get up. It was my uncle.

You aren't going down that easy, are you? The words were all I needed. Every emotion in my body, hopelessness, fear, sadness, despair were all replaced by one. Rage. I turned around and pointed the gun which I managed to keep a hold of and pointed it straight at its face. It turned, seemingly shocked that I had a weapon in my hand, but soon after it charged. I wasn't aiming for anything, just pulled trigger, almost seemingly in slow motion. I saw the bullet fly and go straight into the void that was its eyes. Time stopped for just a second. Then it stumbled backward, grabbing its face, and I heard it scream. For the first time in the recording, I saw fear flicker in my father's eyes, and then he continues. When I saw it opened its mouth, I expected a monstrous bellow, or a loud

shriek. But what came out was worse. It wasn't the sound of a monster, but the sound of a people. hundreds of people. Men and women screamed and pain and agony. The elderly shrieked in terror. I could hear babies crying and toddlers screaming as if they were denied a toy. But one scream remains in my mind forever. The only reason I can't ever forget what happened to the day

because I heard a specific scream come out of its mouth. The scream of my uncle. The rage was gone and the terror returned. I got back up and continued running towards the light. I didn't want to get away from it. I just wanted to get away from the horrible screaming. But I couldn't.

I just couldn't. No matter how fast I ran, the dream stayed the same. But then it changed, for it was no longer screaming of pain, but screams of rage. I continued running. I had to get away. I wanted to. I needed to. My thymour's crack was continuing to grow as I continued running.

My legs pressed against my rib cage as my body demanded a huge amount of oxygen that the lungs could not provide. I remember bursting through the woods, welcomed by the bright street lamps, and the hard pavement beneath my boots. And when I had burst through out of the woods, my body had used up all strength, and I fell. The last memory I got before blacking out was a screech of tires, a man looking over me on the phone, and before I lost consciousness, I turned my head and turned towards the woods. I saw it, standing there, one eye closed, and the other empties eye staring at my own. I didn't need to see its face to know what it felt. It was angry. It hated me, and it was still hungry. I woke up the next day in the town's hospital. By that time,

I had been out for three days, and your grandfather had flown over after he heard the news. I was greeted with his tears and his warm hug after he saw me awake. I told him and everyone else everything, about the thing, about uncle, everything. They didn't. believe me, probably thought the number of hits I took on my head made me reimagine a little old bear as a monster. They did send out a search party, however, didn't find it, but found my uncle. The rumors spread how every bit of flesh, blood, organ, and even the bone marrow was stripped clean, and all that was left was a clutter of bones. He sighs. That Wendigo was probably still out there, continuing to eat innocent people, continuing to hate me for being the

one that got away, and there's more out there, more that will not stop until they are full, and they are never full and ever will be. He pauses. The most disturbing thought I have had is that one of my uncle's voice in my head when the Wendigo had me on the ground. Sometimes I think, was it actually my uncle's voice telling me to get up? Or was it that thing telling me to get up? Wanting me to put up a little more fight so it could make the kill so much better. And all right, that wraps up the Reddit, Wendigo, Encounters, and I hope you enjoy. I really like that last story. I hope you enjoyed it as well.

Let me know what you think about this and let me know what video topics you'd like to see in the future. And thank you for continuing to watch the end. So like and subscribe, it means the world. And yeah, until next time, see ya.