Snook - Skinwalker Stories From Reddit

Episode Date: December 28, 2025

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Hey, what's up guys and welcome back to another Reddit stories video. You guys love the Skinwalker Stories. So we're going to cover some Skinwalker Stories from Reddit. So this video will just be great. And you guys keep asking for this. And this seems to be your favorite topic. So I'll keep doing them. Let me know down in the comments below if you'd like to see more Skinwalker stories

or what type of other stories you'd like to see me cover from Reddit. It's all super interesting and I really hope you enjoyed this video. But anyways, sit back, relax, and just get ready to listen to some scary and just good stories. So you'll want to stick around. And also please like the video and subscribe to the channel. It's the channel's goal to be at 500,000 subscribers before the end of the year. And I think we can do it. So please subscribe. And I'll write it anyways. Without further ado, let's get into some Skinwalker stories from Reddit. I think I had a run in with a Skinwalker last night and I'm afraid it might come back. This entire thing happened last night and I still don't

know how to feel about it. I'm honestly still shaking up. I'm afraid that my dogs might get hurt or even my family. So I've come here in search of advice as to what I should do now. It must have happened around eight-ish. When my mom's girlfriend called me downstairs, she had asked me to help her burn some of the boxes we had lying around in the kitchen so we could clear up some space. We live in a pretty small house, two bedrooms and one bathroom for five people. I have two younger sisters, one I share a room with, 12 and the other, 10, sleep in the living room most nights, and we live with my mother, her girlfriend who is very, very mentally ill, mind you, and my dog, Kobe, about two years old, Valentine, who we've had for six

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

while Valentine is roaming around the yard. The fire goes fine, and we burn about two or three big boxes with no problem. Everything was very under control, and we were even having fun with it. Around the end of the fire, when the flames had started to fade away, Kobe started running back and forth from the driveway to near where we were, barking frantically and trying very hard to get off his chain like he was afraid and was trying to warn us of something. When this happened, I also noticed that Valentine was growling in the driveway. So I got up and walked over to him and see what was wrong, and I smiled and asked him, what's the matter in that sort of baby voice. But while I was standing there, I got that feeling. You know the one where you know you're not

alone. I could feel someone's eyes looking right through me. I looked over in the direction of Valentine's barking and I instinctively yelled, oh my God, and what I saw. There was this inhuman looking thing. Standing in the driveway only a few feet away from me, despite having the light from the back door being open and all the fire nearby, this thing was completely black. All I could see, was its bulging eyes staring right through me, never wavering. It was so thin and tall, standing much taller than the small shed at the end of the driveway, easily seven feet tall. And God, I could just feel that something was completely off about this thing. Some voice in the back of my head was telling me, this thing wants to hurt. It's so angry. And it was like me and this thing were having a

staring contest. I heard my mom's girlfriend asked me, what was wrong? and I looked away for just a second and it was gone. Completely disappeared, but I could still feel its energy looming around. When I told my mom's girlfriend what happened, we put out the fire and we brought the dogs inside. I ran to my mom and told her the same thing I told my girlfriend, and she tried to give me logical explanations to what I saw, but none of them really made sense. She must have seen that I was afraid and wanted to cover me, but her excuses gave me no comfort. After that, I went up to my room with Kobe and tried to shake it off that feeling,

that thing had left me with, but honestly, I couldn't. I was struggling for a while. I stayed up there talking with my boyfriend for maybe 15 to 20 minutes before I heard my mom calling for me from downstairs. Her and her girlfriend had gotten into a fight, and she had locked herself in the bathroom. Mom was fine with it and simply told me to keep an eye on the food while she went to pick up my sisters from their friend's house,

so I said, okay, and went to do so while she left out the front door. Not even two minutes later, my mom comes rushing back inside and I heard her walk into the hallway where the bathroom is and say, girlfriend's name, there's something standing outside watching the house. My heart sank. She finally believed me, so girlfriend comes out from the bathroom and says that she had seen the same thing trying to peek into the windows from the bathroom. And she immediately ran to her room to grab a metal bat, and she ran out the back door screaming, if anybody's out here, I'll bash your fucking head in, at the top of her lungs. Regardless of the situation, my mom still had to pick up the kids,

so I walked her out to her car, then quickly retreated back inside and grabbed a hammer from the closet. Kobe started slamming himself into the back door, screaming bloody murder out of absolutely nowhere. I'd never seen him do anything like it before, so reluctantly I put him on his chain so he could protect the girlfriend while she was out on the lookout. While this happened, I hid myself in the bathroom, since it's one of the only rooms in the house with a working lock, and I called my grandma who was at work and told her everything. She's a huge believer in this kind of stuff, just like I am, so she listens to what I had to say and tried to calm me down a bit since I was absolutely losing my shit. I'm normally a pretty mature and rational person, but I just felt so unsafe and everything felt off. Just when things started to calm down, the girlfriend comes running into the house and tells me urgently that something had broken the basement window from the outside and she was afraid I had gotten into the house.

So I hung up on my grandma after saying goodbye, had 911 on speed dial, and we went to check. Didn't see anybody. Searched around the house and nearby and found nothing. It was like this thing was taunting us. The kids and mom came back and still things had seemed to cool down. But I could still feel that off and uneasy feeling, like it wasn't actually gone. Like it was waiting for the right opportunity. Grandma had called me back to say that she would be taking me to her house.

for the night, as I'm homeschooled unlike my sisters, and it wouldn't be an issue. The kids would sleep upstairs and it with doors locked, Kobe with them, and the hammer I had from before. Grandma came and picked me up after work, and on the way to her house, she told me that while I was explaining all this, the hairs on our arms had stood up, and she could feel the negative energy that I was telling her about. Like she knew exactly how I felt when I said something was definitely wrong and unnatural about this thing that was tormenting us.

Later on this morning, I got a call from mom saying that, after I was. I left, she had invited some friends over to keep her company, ones with conceal and carries, and she had went to grab something from the kitchen, which is where the back door's located, and she heard Kobe's chain rattling outside and something's weight shifted on the back porch right next to the door. When everybody was inside and Kobe was upstairs, I don't know. Laying in bed and thinking about it, I think that this thing was trying to latch itself to the dogs, and that's why Kobe felt the need to be outside. He's been keeping very close to me since I've come home and I have been very wary about going outside by myself while it's dark.

I just came here hoping that someone would offer some sort of advice as to what I should do. I've dealt with paranormal stuff practically my entire life and this feels completely different. If anybody knows what I should do, please reach out or comment on this post. I'm desperate to protect my family. My girlfriend went hiking. Her texts don't sound like her and I think something is terribly wrong. Reddit, you have to help me. Please, I don't know what to do.

Today, my girlfriend, Thea, decided to go hiking. I know I should have gone with her, but she always does her hikes alone because I slow her down. Usually she's only gone for two hours or so. Now she's been gone for nearly four. I'm considering calling the police. She should have been home by now. I've tried calling her repeatedly, but she doesn't pick up.

All I have is our text conversation from the day, and as I read it over and over, I feel like something is terribly off. 233 p.m. Me. Seen anything cool yet? Thea. Nope, I'll send you picks when I get to the waterfall, though. 257 p.m.

You're cooking dinner tonight, right? Yep, chicken pot pie. Yum, so excited. After that interchange, we didn't exchange any text for about an hour. I whiled away the time constructing pylons and StarCraft. Then around four, she sent me a text. 4.6 p.m. I found the waterfall.

Below this text was a selfie. Thea, standing in front of a small waterfall, smiling at the camera. Arms crossed, cap covering her wild hair. Earrings, the turquoise ones I'd given her on our first anniversary, glinting in the light. I sent a text back. You're cute. Then I stopped. Something about the photo bothered me.

I stared at her smiling face. blue eyes shaded by her cap, her thick curls of black hair brushing her shoulders. Wait, her arms were clearly crossed. She wasn't holding the phone. There was no way she could be. Someone else had taken the photo. Or maybe she'd propped it up on a rock or in a tree, but she couldn't have taken the photo herself. I quickly shot off another text. Who took that photo? She didn't reply to that right away, so I'd left the phone on the desk and went downstairs to start prepping dinner. I pushed the creeping anxiety to the back of my mind and focused on the food, putting more effort than usual into cutting the onions.

Call me paranoid, but my last girlfriend cheated on me and left my heart broken, knowing someone else took that photo in the fact that she hadn't responded to the text when she'd responded to the others promptly, made me feel awful. Come on, she's probably just asked them pass her by it to take her photo. Clunk. My knife sliced through the onion, hitting the cutting board, with a full thump. But what if? When I got back upstairs 45 minutes later, I was relieved to see there was a new text. 4.53 p.m. Thinking of you. I frowned. First, she didn't answer my question. Second, Thea doesn't usually send emojis or smileys. Gifts, sure, but not this. It was weird.

Thinking of you too. Did you get my last text? I'll be back by dinner time. Hard emoji. Thea usually didn't send less than threes to me either. That was more me. In any case, I decided to let it go. Okay, I love you, heart emoji. I unpause StarCraft and played for a while. I was only interrupted by my phone pinging. I picked it up.

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

stretched arm in the lower part of the frame, and she was standing in a much clearer part of the forest. She must have been near the trailhead. I read the sigh of relief and began to type. Awesome. Pop-Pie is already in? My fingers froze. In the photo, just at the edge of the screen, there was something in the fallen leaves. A shadow. A shadow just a few feet from her own, cast by someone off-screen. It's after six now. Dinner is cold. I've been sitting here, my heart pounding. calling Theo repeatedly. Nothing, except for one text that came in as I was typing this up. We're going to be home late.

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

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

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

I grabbed Gazelli and headed towards a trail. As soon as we stepped into the woods, it was even darker. What little light left was in the sky was choked out by the thick foliage. I took a second to glance at the sign to figure out which way the waterfall was. Then I continued into the forest. Thea, I called. Thea? No response.

I looked at Giseli. She didn't seem to be picking up anything. I tried to call Thea again. She didn't answer. All I had was that last text, staring me in the face. I'm going to be home late. Sorry, I love you. As a last-ditch attempt, I sent a text back.

8.23 p.m. How late? Where are you? I've been calling you. I watched as the indicator went from sent to delivered and then to red. My blood ran cold. My fingers flew over the keys starting to type. Where are you?

Please call me, but then I stopped. If it really wasn't Thea writing those texts, if it was someone who had her, her? Maybe that wasn't the smartest thing. I stood there in the middle of the woods my heart pounding as Gazelli whimpered at my feet, and then I typed. That's fine if you want to stay out late, but I'm going to bed. I love you, good night. Three little dots appeared in response, and then it popped up. No, you're not. I stared at those words. My head swimming. Huh? What does that mean?

Gazelle pawed the ground a few feet away. And then another text came in. You're out here looking for me. I hear you calling my name. Why don't you come a little closer? Winky face. I grabbed Gazelle and broke into a run, over the thick roots and large stones.

The train sloped up, then down. Out of breath, I stopped, shining the flashlight in a circle around myself. Thea! I screamed. Straining my ears for something. Anything that might sound like her. A rustle. A footstall.

step, a sound, anything, but there was nothing. I pulled out my phone and sent another text. Where is Thea? And then finally, I did hear a sound. Pab-p-p-p-p-phing. That strange little tone, the one I'd heard all over the house for the past two years, whenever Thea got a text or an email. It was Thea's phone. Right out there, somewhere in the darkness. I blindly ran towards the sound, but as soon as I stepped off the trail, the train changed. A deep slope, a carpet of dry leaves. I hadn't gotten ten steps when I stepped on the uneven surface of a jagged rock. My ankle buckled.

I lost my balance. I creened into the darkness. Thud. Then a rustling sound off to my left. The snap of a branch. I pulled myself up as fast as I possibly could. Pain shot up my ankle, but I continued blindly forward, waving my phone every which way.

White light flashed across gnarled trunks. yellow leaves. Giseli barked at me from the trail, but I didn't see anything. I sent Thea another text. Tell me. And then I listened, and there was no Puppa Phing. No footsteps, no rustling, nothing, just silence, punctuated by Gazzelli's barks. The police arrived soon after that, I told them everything. I showed them the text, showed them where I'd heard Thea's cell phone. they didn't find her, but they did find something in the parking lot that I'd missed. A turquoise earring. I didn't sleep on Saturday night.

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

Image loading. A selfie popped up, but this one wasn't like the others. The photo was dark and grainy. The forest was all grays and shadows, maybe taken just after sunset or just before dawn. And there, leaning against a tree was Thea, arms hanging at her sides, hair wild, her cap pulled so far down,

her eyes were completely hidden in shadow. Just looking at it made me feel like throwing up. I sent the photo to the police immediately, but they haven't been able to do anything with it yet. I thought they had some technology where they can pinpoint the location of a cell phone, but either they haven't been able to do it or they don't want to tell me what they found.

There's one thing I haven't told the police. Tonight, I got one final text from her. After nearly 48 hours without Thea, after my fruitless search in the forest, after everything the police had done, this is all I have. One final text. 12.01 a.m.

Thia. Are you going to come find me? I think maybe it's time to return to the woods. Part three. You guys pointed out that going into the woods was a bad idea. You're absolutely right. When I wrote that I'd had maybe two hours of sleep and about five cups of coffee, I wasn't thinking clearly.

That text was a trap sent by whoever took Thea. I handed everything over to the police, even the final text. They were able to find out where at the cell tower thea's phone was pinging off of, but unfortunately, the area encompassed most of the park. I organized a small search party to go around town and search. We all posted all over social media. Everything came up empty. Wednesday rolled around with no text, no leads, no word from the police,

and then Thursday, each hour that went by without hearing anything, I got a little less hopeful. Several times I forced myself to look at these three photos she sent me to look for clues, but they only made me feel sick. And then Friday happened. I'd started the day as usual, checked in on the social media groups, looking to see if anyone found anything out. I made some coffee and was about to call the police to see if there were any updates. And then my phone rang.

When I saw the caller ID, I couldn't believe it. it. Thea. I snatched the phone and immediately picked it up. Thia? I asked my heart pounding in my chest. Silence on the other line. Thia, tell.

Tell me where you are, please. Silence. If this is who took Thea, please, I'll do anything. Don't hurt her. I'll pay ransom. I'll do whatever you want. Just please don't hurt her. No one spoke, but I did hear something now.

A faint crackling sound? Static? The wind blowing through the speakers? Please say something. My heart pounded. My leg shook. I glanced around the kitchen, my mind racing. Can't the police trace the call?

Do they need to be on the line? Do I need to keep the call on for 60 seconds? I had no idea. Do you want money? I asked. My voice trembling as I opened my laptop. We don't have much but I'll wire it all to you. Right now, please just give Theobach to me.

I began placing a wireless call to 911. The crackling sound intensified. I'd please. The call dropped. I immediately told the police. Begged them to trace it to do something, but they just gave me the same canned response they have had the past several days. So I got to my car and drove.

I'd even know where I was going, but then I felt myself pulling into the parking lot staring at those same dark trees in winding trail. I was debating whether I should actually go in when I saw it, a plume of dark smoke rising over the treetops. I jumped out over the car. and ran into the forest, all while that horrible crackling sound played in my head. Thea, no, no.

I climbed over rocks and sticks following the accurate smell of smoke. Please don't let it be. The fire stood in a small clearing, orange flames licking the airy, a black smoke billowing up into the sky. Thea's remains were found in the fire. God, saying that, her remains. How can you say that about someone you love so much? Such a crude, horrible thing to say. Thea, my wonderful Thea's gone.

Since I got the news, I've been sitting in the kitchen, down in whiskey as I flipped through photos of us in our final days. A photo of us on the boardwalk, her grinning and holding a stuffed teddy bear, me standing stiffly beside her. I remember that trip, how annoyed I was that she wanted to play every game in 90-degree weather. What an idiot I'd been. Every minute with Thea was a gift. I flipped to another photo, a selfie of us on the game. couch, her grinning as she held up the bowl pasta we've made from scratch. My thumb hit the screen as I started to flip to another photo.

I stopped. Is that? In the photo, I could see our front windows behind the couch. I could see the neighbor's lights across the street, see a car rolling by the road, and I could see something else in a regular shadow. I zoomed in. The photo quality wasn't great, grainy, swaths of blue and gray, but even so, I could see what it was. A figure. Crouched between our two bushes, looking inside. I stared at the

blurry shape frozen. Then I flipped the next photo. Thea and I sitting on the floor a week prior, playing with Gazelli, and zooming into the window. I saw that same awful shape. Crouched just outside the halo of our back porch light. The next one, the unknown is silent peeking in through an uncovered corner of our bedroom window. No. I flipped to the next photo. Oh, God, no, no. Thea standing in the laundry room,

balancing a basket on her head and sticking her tongue out at me. But behind her, inside the house, a sliver of darkness poking out from behind the corner. Not a shadow, but someone's standing there. Yep. I jumped at foot as Gazelli led out a shrill yelp from the family room. I scrambled over to find her sitting in front of the window, staring into the darkness outside.

Yep. Shaking madly, I stumbled over to the front door, clicked the deadbolt into the place. Then I cut my hands over the window and peered out. Nothing. I ran through the house making sure every window, every door was locked. I closed the curtains, even slid the lock across the basement door.

Then, knowing I was safe, I collapsed onto the couch and began down on the police. And a few minutes they'll be here, and they'll know everything. They'll find the back. that killed Thia, who's apparently been stalking us for months. It'll make sure he gets the worst sentence he possibly can. Thea will get justice.

It's finally over. Or has it just begun? Smiley face. My Skinwalker's story, Arizona. Okay, so to start out, I live in Mesa, Arizona, which is basically Phoenix, Arizona, because the main cities of Arizona spread out into many cities with no border in between. Mesa is what I would call the suburbs of Phoenix. I changed my name, of course.

I live in an apartment complex I'd describe as close to the ghetto but still nice. I live in a bedroom one bathroom apartment in with my girlfriend. Arizona is a state full of ancient Native American history. I live next to the Ho-ho-Kan Canal, as do many Arizonians. The whole place used to be cities of ancient Native Americans. The point is, I'm in the area for what I believe to be a skinwalker. I'll get to my story. Yesterday I was drinking.

One of the things I picked up during the COVID-19 quarantine or what's enforced here, and I decided to smoke a bull on my apartment patio, which I don't usually do, mind you. I just finished loading up my pipe and taking the first hit when I hear a voice, somewhere nearby. Amanda, open the door, please. It was a young, probably in the 20s girl's voice talking, and it sounded a calm and teasing. It continued on as I tried to examine. it, smoking my last bud. After about four times of repeating itself, my curiosity caused me to

look for the source. I saw it in an apartment building facing across from me. I saw a dog standing on its hind legs leaning on a door, tapping. At first I shrugged, of course, then I hear the voice again. It sounded exactly the same as last time, exactly the same, as if you recorded their voice in that sentence and replayed it once again. There wasn't any other sound or movement in the complex. I watched the thing, knock on Amanda's door for like 30 seconds in what I could call state a shock and curiosity. Then it stopped and didn't move for about 20 seconds until the dog or thing stood all the way up, away from the doorway, on its high and legs and turned to face me. Made eye contact with me, which is weird because we are at least 50 yards away. I'm on the third

floor, and it's on the second, but I felt it looking at me. I held its eye contact. I was so scared I felt like I should run. Then it got on all fours and headed down the stairs slowly. At the bottom it started slowly walking over to me. I was on all fours now, about to go inside or scream, I don't know, but I had to know what this thing was going to do. It walked close to my balcony. Yes, it was a dog, a brownish, yellow, dirty-looking thing with big eyes that were 100% attentive to mine. It didn't seem natural. to be honest, but nothing looked wrong at the glance, except that it was staring into my eyes and wouldn't stop. I ran inside as it reached the bottom of my stairs and locked my doors. Soon I heard

clawing at my door, doggie Klein. Next, I heard the door handle jingle, then it started on my front porch door. I of course never answered. Instead, I hid behind my kitchen counter with a knife. After about 30 minutes it left, I stayed up all night, but I didn't see it again, and I didn't go out again. I'm hoping it doesn't come back. I haven't gone outside at all night. I'm burning sage and trying to be careful as I can. Stay out of the Ozarks. I've been a biologist ever since I was 22 years old. I grew up on a farm in rural Illinois, so nature has never been a stranger to me. Playing in the woods was how I entertained myself growing up, spending all my time in the forest as a child. People would expect me to have stories about Bigfoot or strange noises.

or finding some weird shrine out in the middle of the woods, but no. The weirdest thing I've ever encountered was a bobcat screeching. It sounds just like a woman's dying scream, and yes, to everyone who's ever claimed to hear a skinwalker or goat man screeching in the woods at night, I promise you, it was just a bobcat. The truth is often mundane and disappointing. You'd think this would mean I'd have gotten bored of the woods, but I never really lost my love for them.

Nature is boring. That's why I like it. You know what to expect. That's why after college, I decided to make studying nature my full-time career. I'm a biologist for the Sierra Club, specialized in the ecosystems of Midwestern America, fish, birds, deer, elk, bear, wolves, and the like. I spent five weeks in fire towers, cabins, campsites, always miles away from civilization. I'm usually gathering data on local wildlife, measuring for pollutants, determining whether the ecosystem is stable or if anything needs threatens it. The work is not glamorous, but I enjoy it. In nature had still never surprised me until my last assignment. I was designated to be stationed alone in a cabin in the Ozarks.

The assignment was supposed to last three weeks in May. The Sierra Club was alerted to a steady decline in the local elk population over the last decade. Nothing drastic, but enough to raise concern. My job was to take census of the wildlife, measure for pollutants, the usual. These are my diary entries for my assignment, starting with my first night. I arrived in the evening in early May. Nothing was amidst the first two nights. It seemed an assignment like any other.

The sounds of the forest were exactly what you would expect, crickets and owls hoot and the occasional elk haul. I was sent here in May because that's their mating season. The elk are out and about looking for a date, and that makes them easy to count. Elk mating is pretty straightforward. The female lets out a call and waits for a male to find her. Usually it's first come first served if you catch my drift. If only, right?

It was clear that love was in the area and for all the calling, you'd think I would start seeing elk, but by the second day, I still hadn't spotted a single one. The third night I was lying in awake and bed uneasy. something wasn't sitting right with me. But I couldn't put my finger on why. I was about to nod off when a female call cut through the night. I sighed.

That was the second time that night I'd heard her. What? Are the fellas having a guy's night in or something? And that's when it finally hit me. I shot Bolt upright in my bed. For the last three nights I had heard nothing but female mating calls. That should have drawn every male within half a mile, now elk are not discreet, and they don't beat around the bush.

When that male gets the female, well, let's just say that the whole forest will know about it. I sat in bed, staring out into the night, pondering. There have to be males close enough to hear this female, so after three nights of her calls, why haven't I heard the main event? The third day I went out onto the trails, once again looking for some sign of elk in the forest. What I found was not encouraging. About a quarter mile from my cabin, I was checking down the trail when I noticed something 30 feet into the woods, a large brown fuzzy mass lying in the brush.

I smiled. An elk taking a midday nap? I took out my binoculars to get a closer look. It was an elk all right, but my smile dropped when I realized that the brown fuzzy mass was completely still. I carry a hunting rifle with me for safety. I readied it and approached the elk carefully. It looked fine from where I was standing, but I nearly dropped my rifle when I found it to the animal's front. It was carnage.

The poor creature had been completely gutted. What little were made of its entrails hung loosely out of its chest cavity. The ribs had been pulled apart and huge claw marks scarred its flank. Its head was barely connected to its body by a few weak strands of flesh. I heaved and almost lost what little breakfast I'd had. It was horrifying. I had to take a few moments to collect myself. This is the first time that nature had surprised me.

What could have possibly done this? I've studied wild eye for years. This is a bull elk in its prime. It would have stood nine feet tall alive, a king of the forest. There is no predator on this continent that could have taken down a full-grown bull, pack, or no pack. Even a grizzly wouldn't mess with something this big, and bears are mostly scavengers anyways. My mind raced through possibilities, trying to think of an explanation. Maybe it had been sick?

Maybe a predator came upon it sleeping? Took it by surprise? Yes, that must be it. It couldn't have fought back, but this savagery. Those claw marks were bigger than even a grizzlies, and its ribs. No quadrupled could have exerted leverage on the ribs to split them like that. You could need arms. A chilling thought occurred.

A human? Could humans have done this? But why? Hunters would skin it, or take the head at least, to mount on their wall. Is some psychopath out here dismembering wildlife for fun? And that still wouldn't explain these gruesome claws. Whatever this was it needed to be reported. I was sent here to investigate the elk population declining and this had to be related.

I fished out my camera to take photos. Having to document the horror from every angle was heart-wrenching. The look in its eyes, the elk had been terrified when it died. I went to take one last shot. Just as the shutter clicked, my ears registered something. A sound from behind me that my camera had nearly drowned out. I whipped around and had barely heard it, but it was there, a twig snapping. My camera hung from my neck and my rifle from my shoulder.

I dropped the one to snatch up the other. Idiot, I thought to myself as it pointed the rifle towards the sound. I've been so shaken by the sight of the body I'd been completely overlooked one important fact. The kill was fresh. This corpse hadn't even begun to decay yet. This elk had been dead no more than half a day, and that means whatever killed it may still be near. With my rifle still trained on the spot, I backed away towards the trail. My hike back to the cabin and was the only time in my life I felt scared of the forest.

Trees surrounding me on all sides. No visibility. I jumped at the slightest sounds, never lowering my rifle. Never going more than five seconds without looking behind me. I felt like prey, never knowing where the danger would come from or when. I didn't relax until my cabin door was closed and locked behind me. I spent the rest of my day inside the cabin shaken. I readied the photos and sent them to my supervisors.

They would take a day or two to respond. Until then, my plan was to investigate. During the day and with my rifle ready, that night was my last night at the cabin. I was getting ready for bed when I heard a female elk call again, the first one that I'd heard that day. And close. Very close. Wildlife don't like buildings.

They smell of fire and metal and gasoline, and I'm all unnatural to them. They steer clear. What was this elk doing so close to my cabin? I peered out of my window into the dark of the forest. No sign of her. She must have been beyond the tree line. I grabbed my rifle, of course. I wasn't going to shoot the elk, but I might send a few shots into the air to scare her off. It would be nice to know the elk are breeding normally, but I could do without front row seats. I unlocked my cabin and took a step out onto my porch, rifle's still in hand. My eyes scanned the tree line. looking out for the female.

That's when a pair of antlers struck out behind a tree. An elk's head followed them and turned right out at me. And this was a buck, probably attracted by the female's calls. This is promising, but all the more reason to scare them away. I raised my rifle to the sky and prepared to fire. That was when the elk flew into the air, or its head did. The buck's head sailed and an arc towards me and landed just feet away from my door. I stood there in shock, trying to process what had just happened.

Something. Something where someone had been holding the head and had just thrown it. I nearly pissed myself. I pointed my rifle at the tree where the buck's head had appeared. The light from my cabin barely reached. Were my eyes playing tricks on me? Had I just seen claws retreat around the trunk? I was frozen.

I needed to reach behind me to open my door and get back inside. but I was too scared to turn my back on the forest, or even take a hand off my rifle. After a few seconds, I finally gathered up the nerve to brace the rifle against my shoulder, my finger's still on the trigger. I groped behind me until my left hand found the doorknob, never taken my eyes off the tree.

Thank God the door had not locked behind me. With my left hand, I turned the knob and pushed up on the door, then drew it back to my rifle. I backed away quickly into the cabin, slamming the door, and locking it. I hurried to the windows, drawing on my blinds and making sure each was locked. Never laid to my rifle out of arms reach. The terror I felt as I approached each window,

never knowing if there would be someone or something on the other side of the glass, staring back at me. There had it been, which was almost as unnerving. I rushed to the satellite phone to call the sheriff's office at the base of the mountain. The relief I felt when they picked up. You need to get up here? I pleaded. Who is this? It was the sheriff's deputy on the other end.

I met him in the sheriff before beginning my stay at the cabin. It's me. I'm the guy stationed up at the cabin on the mountain. Oh, sorry about that. What's the problem? There's someone up here fucking with me. Get up here now. Whoa, whoa.

Slow down. You mean like kids or something? No, it is not fucking kids. Someone up here just threw a decapitated elk head at my cabin. In my panic, I'd somehow kept the awareness to use my phrase, someone instead of something. I didn't want this guy to think I was drunk or crazy. I just needed him to get up here. Well, what did they look like?

How many were there? Did they have guns? I have no fucking idea, man. They killed a goddamn elk, cut the head off and threw it at my cabin. Just get the hell up here. Oh shit. Okay, okay, lock yourself in there. We're on the way.

Man, please stay on the line. I'm scared here. I really was terrified. I wanted someone to stay on the phone with me, even if it couldn't help me. The man replied, I can't get to you and stay on the line at the same time. I'm calling the sheriff now. We're on our way. Just lock yourself in and stay there.

The man hung up. I swore. I was alone again. A female elk call rang out again. This time it was even closer. It sounded like it was right outside now. I took up my rifle again. That's when the tapping started. While I was talking to the deputy, I hadn't been watching the windows. The sound was coming from the window to the right of my front door. My eyes widened in horror. A single gray claw was tapping on the right edge of the window. Just one claw. Whatever it was attached to wanted to stay out of sight. The claws stopped tapping. Instead, it drew itself along the window and out of my sight, leaving a long, ugly scratch.

The sound was horrible, but it didn't stop when it left the window. I could still hear it, dragging along the wooden walls of my cabin. The creature was scratching through solid wood. Could it break through my windows? Why didn't it? My niece shook. I tracked the sound of the scratching with my rifle. my mind raced.

Could this thing get in? How long until the sheriff showed up? I was high up on the mountain. The drive here took 45 minutes, even if they hurried, it might be half an hour. Even if they did get here. Could they stop this thing? Should I make a run for my truck? No.

Whatever this thing was, it could get to me before I got the truck up and running. Something nagged at the back of my head, but I could barely think the scratching was louder and louder. whatever this thing was it had torn a bull elk to shreds. How could I stop it? The bull. That's when I realized it. The head. It was the same head as the bull I'd seen earlier.

It had the same scar down its right cheek. This thing was taunting me. It must have been there when I found the dead elk. It had been watching me and now it had thrown the head at me? Was it telling me to go away, to get out of its territory? I gasped. With my mind raised. I hadn't noticed that the scratching had stopped.

Where was that thing? My eyes darted from window to window, no sign of it, until the loud thud right above me. It's on the goddamn roof, I thought. Its footsteps echoed through my cabin. Between each step came rhythmic taps, no doubt from its claws. Was it testing for weaknesses? Was it merely toying with me? It had only been a few minutes since I called the sheriff's office.

I was still far from safety. I hadn't moved since the call. The thing on my roof thudded from spot to spot, the shock was starting to wear off. Focus. Think, I told myself. The thing had probably seen me through the window. It was right above me. The bathroom.

The bathroom was the safest spot. There were no windows. If it does break in, it would have to look for me, then break through the bathroom door. That might buy me an extra minute, and it might save my life. The creature knew where I was. I had to try to change that. I slowly slipped off my shoes, keeping me. my rifle train on the roof. I kicked a shoe towards my bed. Sure enough, the thuds on my roof followed,

stopping right above the spot where my shoe had landed. It's tracking me. I slowly shoveled to the bathroom, not raising my feet, afraid to make a sound, praying that the door would not creak. I opened the bathroom, preparing to lock myself inside. I was shutting myself in, hoping that I wouldn't die in this bathroom. When I heard a loud scratch, followed by a dull thud. It had jumped up. off the roof. It was on the ground again. Outside the cabin. Why? Was it going away? I was afraid to hope that maybe I'd have gotten bored. Maybe it had found some other prey. That was when I heard the woman scream. I gasped and covered my mouth. How was that possible? No one else is here. A hiker? A camper maybe? The scream again. Help! She cried out. I gripped my rifle,

crying now. I was frozen in fear. That thing was out there. Chasing some poor woman. and I was too cowardly to help her. I just wanted to stay in that bathroom hiding, hoping that every second that thing spent chasing that woman was another second closer to the sheriff getting here. I don't know how long I sat there, cowering. Another desperate scream. Help me!

There was something in her terror. She was more scared than I was, and there I sat, letting her die. My shame overcame my fear. I gripped my rifle tighter and left the bathroom. I marched to the door, ready to face whatever this creature was. Maybe I could distract it. Buy time for her to get away. Maybe the sheriff would find her. Even if the thing got me first. Just as I was reaching for the

doorknob, she cried out again. A pained, dying scream. I was too late. I think had gotten her. I was a coward and because of that she was dead. The woman moaned in pain this time, just a few meters away from the door. This must be your final moments and I listened. safe in my cabin. She groaned once more. But this sounded different somehow. It was, my eyes widened in shock and realization. I drew my hand from the doorknob as if it had burned me. I'd never unlocked it, thank God. The moan came again. This time, unmistakable. That was not a moan of pain or terror. It was an entirely different kind of moaning. I backed away from the door. You motherfucker I muttered. You almost got me. It all made sense now. There never was any female elk. Mimicry is a common

adaptation in all ecosystems, both for prey and for predators. This thing, it let out female elk cries to draw in males and then, well, I had already seen the result in the forest. That's why I never heard the elk mating. There was no female waiting for them. Only this monster. And now I was trying the same tactic on me. I nearly sobbed in terror. It had tried to lure me with the sound of a woman in distress. It thought that might draw me out. When that didn't work, it switched to its tried and true method. A mating call.

I aimed my rifle at the door. The moans continued. Louder and more intense, building into a climax. I was nauseous at the thought of whatever it was out there. Squatting in the dark, mouth agape, emitting this perversion of a woman's voice. Trying to draw me out into the dark and rip me apart just like, that elk. I stood with my rifle train at the door not moving. I had resolved that I was going to

stay there until the sun rose or until the sheriff came. In the moment I saw this thing, I was going to shoot it. I don't know how long I stood there among the echoes of that sick creature. Eventually the moans puttered out and I was left in silence until the tapping began again. In the same spot as before. There was that single gray claw, tapping on that same spot. where I'd scratched the glass, but then a second claw joined in, then a third. It drummed then along the glass, slowly, ever so slowly. A patch of gray fur poked out from the edge of the window. Time stopped, and the creature brought its face into full view. It was terrible, like a sloth. But its mouth and nose were caked in blood. It had tiny, beady eyes front-facing, a predator.

eyes, large, pointed ears, almost like a bat, thin, cracked lips. The monster looked right into my eyes. It cocked its head, and then it pulled those terrible, bloody lips back into a smile. Its razor-sharp teeth, still stained with blood and flesh. I'll never forget them. It pointed that hideous grin at me as it drummed those claws on my window. Shoot, shoot, shoot, I told myself. But I was frozen. This thing was. was going to kill me. Light poured through the front window. The monster disappeared out of sight. The sheriff and deputy had arrived in their truck. The two of them sauntered up to my porch and knocked. I had to shake myself out of my stupper and opened the door. Both of them backed off and drew their

weapons at me, screaming at me to put the gun down. I was still in shock. I think the only thing that kept me from shooting them was a terrified look in my eyes. They asked me what the hell was going on. I could barely speak. I just kept frantically repeating that they needed to get inside, that it was still out there. They eventually told me to come with them down to the sheriff station. At first, I refused to leave the cabin, then sort of half dragged, half walked me to the truck. They said I was like an owl at the whole ride down, my head and on a swivel, always scanning the tree line for it. I must have fallen asleep after I got to the station.

I woke up the next morning in a cell. I was confused and disoriented. I nearly wet from fear when I finally remembered everything I had been through the night before. The sheriff and deputy sat me down in a room and asked me what the hell happened that night. I was silent at first. I didn't know what to tell them. If I told the truth, they'd think I was crazy. They asked me about the elk's head that I told them about during the call.

It was gone when they got there, just a bloody stain on the ground where it had been lying. I made up a story, said that some kids were prowling around my cabin making noises trying to scare, me. I called the sheriff's office because I thought I saw one of them with a gun. The sheriff only made me go over the story once. He seemed satisfied. He took me back up there the next day to collect my stuff, and broad daylight, of course. Sure enough, there were deep scratch marks along the side of the cabin. The sheriff didn't look at me. Kids, he said. We collected my things quickly and hurried back down the mountain. I reported to my supervisors that it was probably overhunting causing the population decline, they would never believe the truth.

The sheriff saw me off while I was waiting for the bus to take me back home. He shook my hand and drew me in for one of them manly half-hugs. He gripped my shoulder. Don't come back, he whispered. I gave him a confused look. He stared me right in the eyes. It knows you now. Has your scent.

Seen your face. Heard your voice. You got away once. It won't happen again, so don't ever come. back. That was years ago. I burned the clothes that I had worn that trip, so there's no way they'd end up near the Ozarks again. Never been back anywhere near the Ozarks. And anyone who's ever asked me, I always tell them to steer clear. I spent so much time trying to forget what I saw that night, but that face, I remember every detail. It's kept me up so many nights with so many questions.

What the hell was it? Some freak of nature? A mutant that somehow survived to pass a infancy, something supernatural, an alien? Those ears perfectly crafted to detect minute sounds just like a bat. That explains its mimicry. It grew up in that forest, hearing the elk calls. After a while, it learned to copy them. I spent so many nights asking myself, How? How did it know that a woman's voice? I dread to ponder the answer. When sleep finally comes, I have nightmares. Nightmares about campers sitting around the fire, when all of a sudden they hear a voice calling out to them in the woods, crying for help. The voice in my nightmares, calling them into the darkness of the trees, away from the safety of their fire. The voice,

my voice. I found an abandoned Nissan in the Alaska bush. What happened afterwards haunts me to this day. Back in my 20s, I was what you might call in a... adventure girl. About 10 years ago, give or take, something happened. I changed that. I moved to the city, got a boring job in a boring apartment, and became decidedly adverse to the outdoors. I haven't really told anyone about it in all that time. Save my now wife because, well, for one, they'd think I'm crazy. And for two, I don't want to think about it. I'm finally putting it here, though, because you all deserve to hear it. After all, you probably saved my life. At the time, I had just graduated college and moved from Texas to Alaska out of a desire for, you guessed it, adventure.

I had a job doing stuff I liked. It paid well and gave me enough vacation days to get out and do something really adventurous every once in a while. One thing I had had on my bucket list since moving north was driving the Dalton Highway. For the unfamiliar, that's a generously highway that goes from Fairbanks to Prudeau Bay on the Arctic Ocean. is about 500 miles, 11-hour drive in the summer, but thanks to work realities, I wasn't able to get out there until early autumn. By early autumn, the snow had started, but the plows were still able to keep the highway pretty clear.

And I was driving a 95 Toyota land cruiser kidded out for expeditions. Besides that, I was an adventure girl. I was prepared. I had camping gear, emergency gear, a satellite phone, plenty of food and water, enough Jerry cans for the trip there and back in Sam Colt's greatest invention in the setter console, just in case.

For the unfamiliar, that's the 1911. I fucking love that gun. I was planning to make the trip in two days, sleeping in the back of the land cruiser halfway. Add enough blankets to keep warm, and I had a nice, comfy space back there that I could fit in. I'd have to drive slower because of the snow.

I wanted to enjoy the scenery, and the sun was setting pretty early by that time of year. year. I had a good start that day, and the driving was fine. By the time shit went down, it had been dark for about an hour, and I was getting into the foothills of the Brooks Range. That's good scenery and also terrain I didn't want to be going through the dark, so I was just about ready to pull over for the night when I saw caution flashers up ahead. For the unfamiliar, a hard rule for any Alaskan is that you always, always pull over when he sees someone in distress on the side of a remote road like that, especially after the snow starts. If they aren't prepared for the emergency,

there's a very good chance that you could save their life, so that's exactly what I did. I pulled over next to a Nissan SUV, not as nicely kidded out as mine, but not bad either. I figured they were doing the same thing I was, small world. By the jack under one axle, and the wheel sitting next to the car, they'd blown a tire. What I didn't see, though, were the people. I got out of my land cruiser, crunching down into the snow and looked around. There aren't a ton of trees that far north, and there are quite a few patches of evergreens that, while not quite forests, can be pretty dark and thick on a heavy snow night. Hey, I called, my voice going dead a few yards away as sound does in snowy woods.

Y'all need help? No answer. Dead silence. Save the faint clicking over the flasher from inside their Nissan. I shouted again. Anybody there? I've got tools. No answer.

Dead silence. I considered myself a pretty brave bitch back then, but I'll admit that I was creeped out at this point. This vehicle definitely hadn't been there all that long, and there was no one to be seen. Besides that, the dead quiet and the darkness of the night were unnerving. It wasn't that weird for it to be silent on a snowy night like this, that far north, but still. Creepy. Creepy enough that I hop back in the car and grabbed my 45, storing it in one of the big pockets in my front of my jacket, just in case. There were bears up there. I approached the

Nissan and saw footprints in the snow. Okay, not a ghost car. One pair had been crouched down at the roof tire, and the other had been standing a couple feet away by the rear of the SUV. The latter pair had then, at some point, headed off towards a tree line. It stopped a few yards down, paced a bit, then continued into the woods. The pair near the tire had then, presumably later, gotten up and ran after the first. I was no tracker, but it's not hard to tell when someone was running in the snow. Now I was really creeped out. I was tempted to hop back in the car and keep driving for a good long while, but like I said, this could easily have been life or death up here. Besides, I had my 45. It could handle Grizzly. Probably. That was the worst I'd find up here. Probably. So off I went,

following those two sets of footprints into the woods. It was fucking dark, but don't worry, y'all. a really nice flashlight. Sure fire, baby. Adventure Girl, remember? The dead quiet seemed to get even deadlier and quieter as soon as I passed the tree line. As sound does in snowy woods, probably. The only thing comforting me was that I hadn't gone deaf with as the sound of my breath and my boots crunching in the snow. Hey, I called again, maybe 20 yards into the woods. Is, uh, is everyone okay? This time I got a response. It was a woman's voice and it sounded afraid. Over here, they called, help. I got a spring of my step at that, jogging towards the sound of the voice, shining my light through the trees to try and catch a glimpse.

Over here, it called again, much closer. Help. Remember when I said y'all probably saved my life? This is one that happened. I stopped. The hair on the back of my neck had stood on end and a chill had run down my spine. Something was off about that voice. I couldn't put my finger on it, but it was slightly wrong.

I pointed my light toward where I had heard it. "'Are you hurt?' I said, voice raised, but not quite shouting anymore. "'Help!' the voice called again. Only it was even closer this time. I hadn't heard the crunch of any footsteps. "'Over here!' My grip on my flashlight tightened and my heart started to hammer my chest. This was not right.

I'd read a lot of no sleep back then, and watched and listened to my fair share of spooky stories. At that time, I didn't think any of that stuff was real, but what was happening to me felt way too similar, and it was setting off alarm bells. Something about this exact situation was tugging at the back of my mind as something I should be terrified of. I tried one more time. What's your name? I asked cautiously. Help, the voice called, and it couldn't have been more than a few yards off. That was enough for me to swap my light to my left hand and bring out the col with my right. I pointed both in the direction of the voice and finally caught a glimpse of something besides trees. Off in the distance, barely visible, I could see a bundle of something laying in the

snow. It was human-sized, and the snow all around it was staying dark. My head was in the middle of processing what it was seen when I saw movement between me and the body. Oh shit, that was a body. I pointed my flashlight and gun at this horse the movement. It was humanoid, with two arms and two legs, but it was all wrong. The limbs were too long, and it was too tall. Its hair was thin and wildly. It had antlers. Fucking antlers in its face, which was also, I assure you, really fucking wrong. Was staying dark with what I can only assume was blood. I fired two shots and hauled ass. I didn't know if the bolt slowed it down. I don't even know if I hit it. I ran faster than I'd ever run before, and by the cracking branches and crunching snow behind me, it was giving chase.

My heart felt like it was going to explode out of my chest and my lungs burned from sucking it in frosty air. Once or twice I saw death flash before me as I nearly lost my footing in the snow, but I managed to stay upright. As I ran, I heard more snapping, more crunching, not just behind me now, but all around. There were more. I got really fucking lucky that night. I was lucky to have spotted the body, lucky to have run just fast enough and not falling on my face. Lucky none of whatever they were, I have a guess, but I'd rather not hazard it, were just a bit closer or faster. I was lucky that I had in enough spooky stories that my alarm bells had gone off, and I was lucky that the poor couple, maybe, and that Nissan had gotten stranded there and suffered the grisly fate they suffered.

After all, I was planning to stop just as I saw those caution flashers. I'd have been right there, in those same woods asleep. I don't want to think about what would have happened to me if that would have been the case. I made it to my car, which I was lucky to have left running, thinking I wouldn't go far. I left in, slammed and locked the door. and threw it in reverse as I saw dark, lanky shapes coming out of the trees. As I got moving, the headlights revealed that what had been chasing me. I can't say exactly how many it was, at least half a dozen.

All of them were similarly stretched, pale to the point of almost being white, with various forms of antlers and primitive-looking clothing. I reversed down the road as fast as I dared, without risking going off and dooming myself to certain death, for a good half mile before I finally got the nerve to finally turn around, then I flew down the highway all the way back to Fairbanks. Only stopping once I found a nice, well-lit hotel in the middle of the city. The next day I went back in Anchorage. I thought about calling the state troopers.

Someone was going to find the Nissan, probably find the bodies. They'd find my casings, my tire tracks. I could end up a murder suspect. I decided against it, though. If I ratted myself out, I'd be a murderer suspect anyways, and they'd know it was me. Better to bet that no one could tie me to that. scene, especially being as far from local as I was. Over the next week, I packed my shit, bailed on my

job and my lease, and moved back to Texas. I never ended up with police banging on my door, so I guess I made the right choice. I still have nightmares about those wrong, elongated things chasing me. I probably have PTSD, but it's not like I can talk to a therapist about it without ending up in a looney bin. I'm not an adventure girl anymore. I never go anywhere at night, and I stay in the city as much as possible. I didn't get out of their. on skates, but I got out of there alive, which is better than can be said for the folks in the Nissan. I was lucky. And all right, guys, thank you so much for watching Skinwalker's stories from Reddit. I really enjoyed the Skinwalker videos. And so let me know if you'd like to see a part four,

volume four, just another video of Skinwalkers or Reddit stories or something like that. Let me know what you'd like to see in the future. And thank you so much for watching all the way to the end. It means the world. And if you're still watching, please like this. the video and subscribe if you haven't already. It just helps out the channel so much. And just, yeah, thank you guys again for watching. It really does mean the world. And all right, anyways, if that further ado, thank you for watching. See ya.