Snook - Terrifying Scary Stories

Episode Date: June 2, 2025

Follow and rate 5 stars! Thanks for listening! Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Hey, what's up guys, and welcome back to another scary stories video. These stories are all sent in by you guys, viewers of the Snook Channel. And today we're going to be getting into some terrifying, scary stories. And you guys have some really good stories. True or not, they're scary, they're terrifying, and you'll want to stick around and listen to them all. I appreciate you stopping by. Super cool of you. And make sure to just sit back, relax, and, you know, get ready to listen to some terrifying,

and scary stories. Some good stories to listen to if you're chilling, relaxing, studying, or sleeping, or whatever else you're doing. And please like and subscribe to the channel. It helps so much. And without further ado, let's get into some terrifying, scary stories. Hey, Snook, I love watching your videos. As a fellow horror fan, the best part of my day is just listening to your videos on my headphones. Your narration is sick and keep up the amazing work that you do. I'd like to share my own story with you that took place nearly 10 years ago. my encounter with the skinwalker. I was around 14 when my dad got transferred to Ranniket, a picturesque military town in the hills of Yuta Karghand, India.

It was one of those calm places where every corner looks like a postcard, lush green, chilled breeze, in the comforting silence of a secluded hill station. My dad, being in the army, was used to hopping from one containment to another, and we followed wherever he went. This time it felt like a blessing. The house we were assigned to was a solid 3BHK on the edge of the colony. It had a beautiful front porch that overlooked the descendant of hill, filled with neat rows of tall pine trees. The army colony was quiet, nestled into the hillside, and surrounded on three sides by dense forest. It wasn't the kind of place that felt eerie or off.

Not at first. Reticats felt like a permanent vacation spot. Life felt calm, maybe even perfect. The first few weeks went by smoothly. I made new friends at my school. My mother was making the house pretty and neat like she always did. My dad would go to early in the morning and come late at evening from work. I'd often sit on the porch during the golden hour,

watching the sun disappear behind the thick foliage. The trees had enough space between them for sunlight to seep through, casting long golden beams over the grass and dirt. Birds chirped till sundown, and at night, the cicadas took over. nothing felt wrong until that one night. My parents had been invited to an overnight function at one of my dad's senior officers' homes, formal plus informal, with another army folks and their families, but I stayed back, hesitant to be around people I was new to.

My parents insisted me to come along, but I stayed back. The idea of a full night of Maggie, movies, and being home alone sounded like bliss. By around 9.30, I was full and comfortably wrapped in a blanket, on the living room sofa, watching a movie on my laptop with my headphones on. At nearly 10 p.m., I paused the movie. I remember the exact time because I checked the clock to see how much runtime was left. The wind outside had picked up a bit, rattling the windows slightly. But that was usual in the hills.

That's when I heard a knock. Soft. Deliberate. From the front door. I took off my headphones, heart sinking. My first thought was, maybe my parents returned early. But no, they had clearly told me they wouldn't be back until morning. I walked cautiously to the door.

No peephole, just a small curtain on the window beside it. I reached out and gently parted the curtain. Nobody. The porch was empty. A cold draft slipped through the edges of the door. The air felt thick like something unseen was breathing just beyond the walls. I stepped back, locking the door and bolting the couch. Then I turned off the lights and return to the sofa in front of my laptop.

At around 10.30 p.m., another knock. This time, it was immediately followed by a voice. Beta, Darsuasa, Kolo. Open the door, son. It was my mother's voice. Gentle, calm, familiar, but it echoed strangely as though spoken into a tunnel. I froze. No car lights, no engine sound, no announcement of arrival. Beta, Darwaza, Kolo. Open the door, son. A pause, then. I forgot my keys.

My body tensed. My parents would never return without calling first. This was something else. Plus, the voice didn't sound comforting. I always felt an ease whenever my mom called me. This was making my nerves cold. Then it called again. But this time, it was my voice. Please. Open the door. I'm scared.

Exactly how I sounded. The stutter, the tone, even the slight nasal quality when I was nervous. I didn't know what to do. My feet refused to move. I couldn't even move. Please, he repeated. Open the door. Please.

Then silence. I waited. Held my breath. Every minute stretched into eternity. Then, footsteps. Slow. Moving around the porch. Scraping against the concrete.

Then toward the side of the house. The window to the guest bedroom. I dashed to the kitchen and grabbed the biggest knife I could find, though I knew deep down that it wouldn't help. Something about the voice, the mimicry, felt unnatural. 11 p.m. A thud against the back wall. I came back to my senses, hearing for any movements, even though I was nearly shooting bricks.

Then scratching. I crept through the corridor towards my room, heart thudding so hard I could barely hear anything else. As I neared my room and looked towards the back window, I saw it. A silhouette. Not entirely human. Too tall. Its limbs slightly too long, but the head. The head looked like mine.

It was staring right at me through the glass. Its face nearly pressed against it. I couldn't see its eyes, just a stretched, grim version of my own face. The mouth didn't move, but I heard it. Please, let me in. I backed away slowly, bumping into the cabinet beside me. The things had twitched, snapped sideways, as if startled. Then it started laughing.

Not loud, not guttural. Just a soft giggle, like a child. who found something funny. Only, it sounded like me. The laughter followed me as I backed into the hall. The windows all around the house seemed to echo it, and then it stopped. Silence again.

I didn't sleep. I stayed hidden under the bed, knife and hand. It was quiet for around 30 minutes when I started hearing footsteps again outside. They were not in sync. It sounded like it was hopping and moving in circles. I finally gathered the courage to go to the living room, taking my laptop and my phone.

I unlocked the door that led to my living room. There was a piece of paper tucked under the laptop. Folded neatly. Inside, a message written in crude handwriting. You already let me in. I don't remember hearing the front door open. I don't remember hearing anyone walking in. I don't remember crawling back into bed.

But I remember waking up to the next morning. Drenched and sweat. I could hear my parents knocking on the front door. I could feel the sunlight on my face, and I knew I was okay. I never told anyone, not a soul. But sometimes, when I'm lying in bed late at night, I hear a knock, and a voice. My voice, softly whispering. Beta, Darwaza, Kolo.

Open the door, sun. I think I have a skinwalker after me. Now, I hate to say I can't provide a... reasonable explanation for this, but this all started a little over a year ago when me and my friend were riding dirt bikes at night. Now, this should be mentioned. We lived next to a huge forest, about 100 miles of woods, and it's in the middle of nowhere. We have been riding for about 10 minutes when I heard a scream, one that sounded almost like a woman. I pulled over, turned the dirt bike off, and listened. My friend came over, confused, asking what I was doing,

and I said, did you not hear the scream? He replied, sounding so confused, but he was right next to me. There was no way I heard it, and he didn't. We waited for about five minutes and then just kept riding. I thought I just imagined it, because why would somebody be out in the woods at night? Then, after about 20 minutes, my friend motioned for me to come over. He looked pale and asked if I heard the screams in the woods. I said no, and he said he could have sworn he heard his name being screamed from the woods.

So we decided to just go home and forget about it. Now, fast forward a few months. It was snowing out. And me, my sister, Emma, my sister's two friends, Caitlin and Ella, and my neighbor, Dave, were all messing around in the snow. Someone had the idea to go explore the woods to find a good spot to make an igloo. We all agreed. After we've been walking about a mile into the woods, we noticed a pair of footprints that looked like someone had been walking barefoot. But who would be walking barefoot in 25-degree weather?

In the snow. We all stopped and stared at them. Me and Dave had completely forgotten about the screaming in the woods by this point. We all just assumed it was maybe a homeless person since people from the town, about 20 miles away, would sometimes come into the woods to build little forts, so we kept walking. About 15 minutes later, we found a clearing we thought would be perfect for an igloo. We got to work. After about an hour, the sun started to set.

As we began to head back, it went dead silent. No birds, no nothing. You could hear our breathing, Ella joked. You know, if it's quiet, it's predators nearby. We all kind of chuckled until, like on cue, we heard crunching in the trees, about 20 feet away. We all froze. This sounded like someone walking. It wasn't an animal.

It was planned steps. I know that sounds weird, but it sounded like whatever it was was calculated where it's a step. Then Dave yelled out. Hello? Is somebody there? The footsteps stopped. That's when we decided to book it home. We all took off running back to my house since it was the closest.

We were about 50 yards from my driveway when Caitlin froze. She was at the front of our little line running, probably the fastest of us. We all stopped and asked her, what was wrong? Her eyes were so wide I thought they were going to pop out of her socket. She just pointed. When we looked, nothing was there. She said she saw a naked man, at least seven feet tall with a deer head, running next to us about 30 feet away. That obviously made us nervous, especially since Caitlin.

was not the type to lie. We ran the west of the way home. By the time we got inside, it was pitch blackout. Since we lived on the edge of the forest, we couldn't see anything outside. We decided it would be best if we all just stayed the night at me and my sister's house. Our parents said it was fine, so we spent the night watching movies and talking. Me and Dave went to my room, the girl stayed in my sister's room, and my parents had gone to sleep by then. Once we were in my room, Dave asked if I could actually thought there was something in the woods. I shrugged and said, who knows. I also need to mention we have two dogs. They're huge with very loud barks, but they're sweet. Me and Dave went to sleep, but about three hours later, probably around two in the morning,

the dog started going crazy. Now, this is a normal thing. They bark at nothing all the time, so I didn't think anything of it. I shouted for them to come here. When they did, one had her tail was wearing her legs and was whimpering. That was weird. She never did that. I shut my door and we fell asleep. Nothing else happened for a few months. Then it was late April, spring break. Me, Dave, Emma, Caitlin, and Ella were hanging out again. We were trying to think of something to do and decided to go camping in the woods, like we used to do when you were younger.

We all thought it was a great idea. We got our stuff and around 3 p.m. We started walking to a lake about two miles south of my house. We got there. We set up tents, swam, and had fun until it got dark. We made a fire, s'mores, and told scary things. stories. Then Ella brought up the day in the snow when Caitlin thought she saw that creature. I got chills. We'd all forgotten about that. So I said, maybe it's time to go to our tents. We split into a boy's

tent and a girl's tent. Later that night, I woke up and had to pee badly. I got out of the tent, walked down by the lake, and did my business. As I was getting ready to go back to the tent, I saw Dave. I walked over and whispered, what are you doing? He just stood there, not moving. He I jokingly shoved him, but his skin was so cold, like ice. That was extremely odd since it was June, and the high that day was 98 degrees. There was no way he should have been that cold. I said, holy man, you're freezing. He just looked at me with a weird grin.

I told him I was going back to the tent. When I lay down, I looked over, and there he was. Dave, sound asleep. This couldn't be possible. He was just outside. I had walked back first, no way he could have beat me. I woke him up and asked, were you just down by the lake? He replied, what are you talking about?

Why did he want me to go on a walk with you at this time of night? I was shocked. I was just peeing by the lake. I never asked you to go on a walk. He explained that he woke up to me shaking him, asking to go for a walk through the woods. At this point, we were both terrified and decided to wait until morning to tell the girls. We were too scared to leave the tent. In the morning we told them.

We thought they'd laugh at us until Emma said that last night they heard scratching on a tree nearby and growling. We walked over to the trees to take a look. What we saw stopped us. There were scratch marks on the trunk, about seven feet high. We all knew no bear, no dog, no animal could have done that. We quickly packed up and went home. But last night, I started to hear tapping on my window. and what sounded like Dave calling me to come here.

Hello, Snook, long-time fan here. I've been listening for a long time now. You really helped me through my work shifts. This is a true story of when me and a couple friends decided to play hide-and-seek in the woods late in night, who knows why we were so young and stupid. I've changed their names, and I'll just like to add that I'm still friends with two out of three of these guys,

and years later we all still talk about it and remember this story. It was one of those muggy summer nights where everything feels off. Too still, too quiet, like the world is waiting for something. Me, Liam, Alfie, and Charlie were out at the field nor far from Liam's house, the one that runs right up to the woods. The woods start where the grass stops, but they don't ease in. There's no soft transition. The edge is a solid wall, trees, thorns, brambles, all knotted together into a dense barrier,

like nature's own fence, impenetrable, except for one opening. One big gap in the wall where the branches curve in and over, forming a dark tunnel that leads into the forest. That entrance always looked unnatural, and like something had ripped it open, like a mouth. We've been playing hide-and-seek in pairs for a while now, taking turns to count and hide. It was darker than it should have been, like the tree swallowed more than just the light. Once you stepped off the past, you could barely see your hand in front of your face without a torch, each time it was your turn to hide, you and your partner would sneak just far enough into the woods to find a spot off the trail, kill your torch, and sit there in the pitch black.

No sound but your own breath, and the leaf shifting above. You just crouched there, frozen, hoping the others wouldn't find you. The last time I hid, I had this feeling. Not something I could explain. Just that slow, creeping dread that crawls up your neck, like someone was watching. Not from the path. Not from behind. But from the woods themselves.

The deeper part. The part we never went into. I almost turned my light back on. Almost said something to Liam, but I didn't. I didn't want to seem like a pussy. So I sat there, frozen, heart beating too loud in my ears, waiting. Eventually, the other pair gave up, like we all did when it got too hard or too creepy, and shouted out to call us back.

We met up at the entrance. Then Alfie and Charlie went to hide. Me and Liam gave them a minute, then went looking. We followed the path, calling out, laughing at first, thinking we'd find them crouched behind a tree or tucked into the bushes nearby. But we didn't. We kept walking, deeper. The trees thickened.

The shadows swallowed the light faster than they should. It got quiet, no bugs, no birds, no footsteps but ours. Eventually, we stopped looking and headed back towards the entrance. We stood just outside the wall of tree, staring into the opening, getting ready to shout to them, we give up when we suddenly heard voices. They weren't whispers. They were shouting. Alfie and Charlie. Guys, we give up hiding.

Alfie says he's scared, shouts Charlie mockingly. Then there was a pause. Hello. We can see you. Are you hiding? Come out. Their voices were coming from inside the woods, but we were outside. There can't have been anyone else in there. It was way too late.

That's when I shouted. Oi, we're here. A second later, they came sprinting out of the woods, out of breath and pale a shock. There was a man, Alfie said, catching his breath, in the trees, off the path, just crouching, knees to his chest, watching us. He didn't say anything, Charlie added. Didn't move, just stared. He thought it was you guys messing with us. They pointed to the right of the entrance. I didn't believe them. Thought they were winding us up. So me and Liam walked forward just a few steps and started grabbing sticks and rocks. We aimed straight for the spot they pointed at. The right side of the entrance, where the brush was thickest and the trees tangled like their claws. There was no trail over there, just undergrowth, shadows, and black gaps between the trunks. We threw a rock. Crack. Silence. Another stick. Snap. Still nothing. We kept throwing. Each time. We paused.

Listened. We would shout into the woods as well things like, come out now or say something. Not a single sound came back. No shift, no crunch of movement, not even a bird startled by the noise. It was dead silent. We threw one more rock, heavier this time. It thudded somewhere deeper in. Then, from the left side of the entrance, opposite from where the man had been seen, ding, a text notification. All of us spun. It wasn't distant, it was close, just inside the trees, where the shadows started to thicken, where the light stops reaching.

We looked at each other, no one moved. Then we all pulled out our phones, no notifications, no sounds, all silent. But we all heard it, which meant someone else was in the woods. and that we weren't alone. There was one man on the right, and someone else silent, watching from the left. We didn't speak.

We just ran. One more thing my friend told me sometime later, he looked human, but something was off. His arms were too long, like they hung lower than they should have, and the way he crouched, knees up, tucked into his chest.

It didn't look natural. His skin was pale, almost gray, and his face was too smooth, like it didn't know how to show him, motion. But his eyes, they were the worst part, just saw it black. No whites, no reflection. He didn't blink. They didn't speak. He just stared like he knew we'd find him eventually. But take this with a grain of salt as it was dark and this man was only illuminated by an iPhone torch and from a distance away. But it does give me the chills to think how long we were playing before we noticed a strange man.

Thanks for listening. Hi, I just wanted to say I really love your channel. The way you tell stories has honestly helped me so much at work. It keeps me focused, it makes a day go by easier. Anyway, I figured I'd share a story of my own. Just a quick hood's up, though. Most of this is from my mom since I was too little to remember much myself. Also, I don't really believe in ghosts, but I do believe demons exist.

And I believe they like to mess with people. So this all happened when I was really young, and my parents were looking to buy a new house. There was this one house that my mom walked into and immediately got a bad feeling. She said the whole place gave her this nervous, heavy vibe right from the start. It was decorated in this dark, modern style, but what really stood out was all these African masks hanging on the walls. There were a lot of them. As they walked through the house, my mom said she kept feeling like she was being watched,

not just once or twice, but constantly. She also told me she kept catching glimpses of something moving through doorways, like someone ducking out of sight. It freaked her out. At one point, my dad and I went downstairs to the basement. There was a door down there that led out into the garden, so we stepped outside for a bit. That left my mom alone on the main floor.

She walked over to the windows to try and see us in the garden, but then she felt something hit her heart in the back. She turned around fast and saw one of those African masks lying on the floor with my side. There was no one else inside. The only other person there was the realtor, and he was outside of the garden with my husband. my dad and me. My mom said she had never felt fear like that before. My dad later told me he had never

seen her so shaken. They didn't even finish the showing. They just left. A couple of years later, we heard about something terrible that happened in that same house. A 16-year-old kid murdered his siblings in what they said was a drug-induced psychotic episode. Apparently, he had been using something that completely messed up his head. I don't know if what happened to my mom is connected, but she still gets scared whenever she talks about it. And honestly, the whole thing gives me chills too. Regards. Hi, Snook, this is my story.

To begin, I would like to say that my family has a history of being sensitive. It skips generations, moves around, and doesn't hit every person. However, I was given the gift of being sensitive. I've always seen people, animals, energies, etc., that others can't. Of course, I always end up with friends. who are also sensitive and have stories of things that we see being the same. I remember a specific incident when I was younger. To keep a brief, something very sad happened in my family,

and for weeks I saw a huge tall figure following me around. I associated the figure with black feathers and a top hat, though I never actually saw either. Because of my abilities, my mom would often have new apartments and houses staged and cleansed by my aunt, who is also sensitive. My mom would refuse to go house hunting without me because she refused to move into a house that I could sense a presence in, good or bad.

Now, on to my actual story. A year or two after my dad and stepmom began dating, they decided to move us all in together. They found a beautiful house that, at the time, had to be just under 100 years old. For reference, it was close to being considered historic in Golden Colorado. I hadn't gotten the chance to see the house until the day we were moving in. and as soon as I stepped into the house, I knew something wasn't right.

It wasn't full on dread like I get in places like abandoned areas or cemeteries that haven't been well taken care of, but enough to notice that something was off. The house was beautiful and fully furnished, so I chalked it up to new house jitters. My sisters and I shared the attic as a bedroom, with my parents on the main floor and my brother in the basement. Again, the attic was fully furnished, and so was the basement. There was a wall that went almost halfway across the attic, partially separated in between the two. My sisters were behind the partition, while my bed sat against it. The first night there was normal.

In fact, my first memories of anything scary or paranormal happening were long after we moved in. I would get this reoccurring sleep paralysis, didn't know what it was at the time, where a woman would be standing just beyond the partition on my side, watch my sisters. Oddly enough, she didn't scare me. I can still picture her now, old, well-groomed, and a nightgown with her hair in a slightly messy bun. Not exactly something that you would consider horrifying. In fact, it was when I started getting sleep paralysis, and she was nowhere to be seen that I was scared. On those nights, I would see someone.

At the top of the attic stairs, I would just see their head peeking above. The hair of this entity was the complete opposite of the old woman's. It was, from what I could see, dirty, there were missing patches, and it would seemingly float around as if it was underwater. For some reason, the hair on this entity terrified me. Only one time I was able to see its face. For some reason, this time, it stood next to the top of the attic stairs. Its lower jaw was missing, and it cowered in the corner.

I could see the bones protruding out underneath the skin, and all I could hear was this sickening clicking, as if its bones would click as it moved. After so many nights spent being completely unable to sleep, I was only about 10 or 11, waking up randomly and immediately vomiting, finding spiders in and around my bed constantly, fly infestations that seemingly only affected my half of the room, and finding scratches on the underside of my bed. I was left with only one option. Move into the spare bedroom in the basement with my brother. Around this time, my siblings and I discovered the inside of the shed outside. At first, what we saw was normal, a lawnmower, gardening tools, old furniture, and eerily, a lot of flies, dead and alive. At the back of the shed, though, sat something that gives me chills. A mannequin. It had a large round head with a large smile drawn on it. It wore a child's neck gown, not vintage or decrepit, but one with Disney princesses on it. It was tattered, sure, but

nothing you wouldn't expect from sitting in an old, leaky shed for a long time. Still, it scared me and my siblings enough to never go back in there. I thought moving to the basement would fix my issues. Unsurprisingly, it didn't. I was waking up more and more often to my bedroom door being forcefully shut, my closet door being flung open, and loud whispering that would echo when I woke up. I remember taking a shower in the basement and getting out to find all the drawers that have been flung open, with such force, mind you, that one had cracked from the force. The flight infestation also followed me downstairs. There's one incident that I remember that gives me chills even thinking about it. For reference, my bedroom had two closets, both on the same wall, but my bed was pressed

up against one, as it was rarely used. This one night, I was having nightmares, more than usual, and I was unable to wake from them. I woke up and I cold sweat to find the closet at the end of my bed, pulled open with such a force that it left scratches and dense at the end of my bed frame. Nothing quite like that has ever happened again, but the other eerie things still happened. Needless to say, I was more than happy to leave that house. I was too scared to say anything then, but not anymore. Also, as we were literally moving the last boxes to our new house, I swore I could see the old woman in the attic window.

I still wonder what her significance of the old house was. Years later, my boyfriend and I were in the neighborhood, and we decided to drive past it. As soon as we pulled it in front of the house, he sped out of the neighborhood. He told me he felt dizzy and uneasy. and that he never wanted to go around there again. Another thing I consider to be weird

is when I bring up these experiences to my dad or brother, the conversation met with awkward laughs and is almost immediately shut down. I wonder if they experience anything but are too scared to say anything? I'm not sure. Anyway, thank you for reading. And if you decide to, for sharing,

I wish you luck in all your future endeavors, and I'm so excited for more episodes. Thanks, bug. Hey, Snook, been a long-time follower of your channel and love your content. This happened to me when I was 17. I'd like to stay anonymous. I like to keep what happened out of my mind. However, in recent days, I've been having some trouble sleeping because of nightmares. I apologize if this story is a bit long and if English is my main language. Without further ado, here it is. In the summer of 2021, I stayed for five weeks at my uncle's

ranch in rural Mexico. I'm from Mexico City, and the ranch is different. Isolated, dry, and surrounded by hills. Almost no phone signal, barely any electricity at night, and nothing but old stories to keep your brain busy once the sun goes down. I don't want to go alone, so I brought my best friend at the time. Martin, he was skeptical of anything supernatural, which in hindsight helps keep me grounded for a while. The first few nights were normal, hot, quiet, and we played cards or old board games. But one night, after watching a movie, we heard something. A branch, in the distance from the direction of the trees that lined the edge of the property, then another, and another, like someone walking or circling.

We stood up and stared into the darkness, but there was nothing there. Not that we could see. We laughed it off, said it was probably a cow or a coyote, but we couldn't shake the feeling that something had watched us. The nights got stranger after that. Martin and I would wake up at the exact same time around 312 a.m. every night to noises outside the window, breathing, scratching, pacing. At first, we thought we were just being paranoid, but one morning, we found deep claw marks on the wood outside. Too high to be a dog,

too wide to be a cat. My uncle shrugged it off and said, just coyotes. Everyone else ignored it completely, but the workers at the ranch, they wouldn't look us in the eye when we asked. One of them, Don Choi, said just six words and walked away. Mejor no betris with those things. Best not to mess with those things. Then came the animal. We woke up to the smell. A horrible, metallic, rotting stench.

And found the carcass of what looked like a deer, but not. Its limbs were twisted unnaturally, like they had been pulled apart and reset. Its eyes were gone, and its furs have been stripped in patches. No blood. just exposed skin and bone. Someone had placed it right by the front door. Again, everyone brushed it off. Coyotes, vultures. That's just the country, my aunt said. That night I had the first dream. I was standing on the hill behind the house. The sky was dark, but everything was lit like dusk. At the top of the hill, there was something tall, human-shaped, but wrong. Its arms are too long.

Its heads tilted like it didn't understand how to move. I couldn't run or speak. I just stood there while it watched me. I woke up gasping. Martin had had the same dream. After that, things escalated. We started hearing whispers at night. A cold wind would sweep through the house, even when all the windows were shut.

One night, Martin woke me up whispering, Don't move. I thought he was joking, but then I saw his face. He was staring at the window, pale and shaking. When I looked, I saw it too. There was a silhouette by the trees, just at the edge of the ranch, human-shaped, not moving, just watching the house. We turned on every light, locked everything, and didn't sleep until the sun came up.

We tried to talk about the Nahueles. In Mexican folklore, they're people, often shamans or witches who can shape-shift into animals. But the modern understanding is darker. Some say they aren't fully human anymore, that they leave their human skin behind and walk the land in burrowed bodies. causing illness, fear, and madness. Some even believe they can enter your dreams and feed off your fear, or possess your body, if you're weak enough. I'd heard of skinwalkers from Native American stories too. Similar idea.

Shapeshifting witches, but more rooted in Navajo culture. The scary part is how alike the descriptions are. Tall, silent, staring, hating, hating to be seen, always watching. Eventually, one of the workers called Isaiah's told us his grandparents, My grandmother might be able to help. She was in a Buela de Lengua, a speaker of an indigenous dialect. She didn't call it a Nahuela. She didn't call it anything at all. Just said we had drawn attention to something. That night she came to the ranch.

It wasn't like a movie, no chance, no fire, just silence. She walked the perimeter barefoot, whispering in a dialect I couldn't understand. She placed bundles of herbs and stones at each corner of the house. She told us to not look out the window. no matter what we heard. Not to open the door, not even to speak. That night was the worst of all.

Around midnight, the air got thick. Still. No bugs. No wind. No sound. Then came the scratching. From every wall. Not frantic.

Slow. Purposeful. Like it wanted us to know it was there. Martin and I sat in silence. Clutching those little bundles the woman gave us. Then came the knocking, not at the front door, but at the windows. All of them. Knock, knock, knock, knock.

Like it was testing us. I swear I heard my name whispered, but when I looked at Martin, his face said he heard it too. It lasted until just before dawn. Then everything stopped. The next morning the bundles were gone, like they had never been there. No scratches on the walls. No track. Nothing. Just dust and quiet. We never talked about it again. Not with the family. Not even with each other.

After that, the friendship eventually came apart, but about a week ago, back in the city, I started having dreams again. The same hill, the same figure. Closer this time. I don't know if it was a Nohole, a skin walker, or just something old and nameless that I stumbled into without meaning to. All I know is that it hasn't fully let go. In some nights, I still wake up at 312. Hey, Snook, before we get into this story, I love your channel and hope you can keep posting for years. I love listening to your channel, and it is really interesting. Please enjoy.

Oh, and there is some cussing, feel free to not say them. You ever done something so dumb? You know you're going to die before you even finish doing it? That was me, alone, and a janky-ass cabin in the middle of bum-fuck Arizona, smack in the territory where even the coyotes refused to howl. I'm a wildlife biologist, or at least I was before this crap happened. Back in 98, I got sent out to monitor mountain lines near this dried-up Navajo reservation. Nobody told me it was haunted as hell. Just stay in the ranger cabin. It's free. Yeah, free like cursed monkey's paw. So I pull up to this busted, creaky, one-room cabin.

The door looks like it's been clawed by Freddie Kruger after a bad acid trip, but I'm trying to be tough, right? You've survived worse, I'd say to myself, while swatting flies that I swear hissed at me. I unpack my gear, set up a trail cam, and settle in with a can of chili and some beef jerky that could snap teeth. No cell service, obviously, no radio either, just me, my flashlight, and the kind of silence that makes your ears ring. In around 2 a.m. I hear footsteps. Not like raccoon pitter-patter, no, this was two feet. Heavy, slow, and crunching gravel out of the I peeked through the curtain. Nobody. Not a soul. Until I realized the footsteps are still walking, but in place. Right outside my window. I wake up with my boots on. Don't ever remember falling

to sleep. First thing I see footprints. Freaking bare human footprints. Not around the cabin. Nope. On the goddamn roof. Nope squared. I checked my trail cam. Things been ripped clean off the tree. Not broken, not torn, just gone, like it was never there. And that tree, there's claw marks going 15 feet up. Cool, so I'm going to die here, I mutter, because sarcasm is how I cope with supernatural horror. That night, I don't sleep. I drink two energy drinks, keep my flashlight in one hand, and my knife in the other. Even though I know a damn steak knife, ain't going to do shit against whatever leaves hoof prints and handprints at the same time.

And right around 3.13 a.m., specific as hell because I checked, I hear, hear it. A voice. My voice outside going, hey, come help me. I'm hurt. And here's the thing. It sounded exactly like me, but wrong. Like it was glitched. Like someone copied my voice and hit Control V one too many times. I ain't proud of this, but I pissed myself a little. Just a little. Enough to regret only bring in one pair of jeans. I try to leave. Truck's dead. No lights. No engine. Batteries drained like something sucked it dry. So I do it. what an idiot and a horror story does. I go back inside and wait for morning. Spoiler, there's no morning here. The sun rises, yeah, but the cold doesn't leave. It's like time for God this place.

Then I see it, just standing there, beyond the tree line. Tall, lanky, like a dude who skipped leg day for 50 years, but did neck stretches religiously. Its arms way too long, its head, no face, just smooth skin-stretched bone. And when it turned, if you can call that twitchy-jurkey movement turning. It let out its croaky, wheezing laugh. Like it was trying to remember how to laugh. I screamed something like, nope, nope, nope, fuck this, and slammed the door so hard the hinges cried. The thing didn't run. It didn't growl. It just whispered. Let me in, Jesse. You already did. At this point, I snapped. I threw my sleeping bag in the fire pit, grabbed every match I had, and torched that cabin like it owed me rent. I didn't care if I had to hike 40 miles barefoot I was done.

And as I walked away, blistered feet and all, I looked at the same. I looked. back one last time. And that faceless bastard, he was waving with my hand. I got out, I survived, but I left something there. Sometimes when I sleep, I dream I'm back in that cabin. And sometimes I wake up with dirt on my boots. And last week, my girlfriend said she heard me whispering in the kitchen at 3 a.m. But I was dead asleep. Hey, Snook, this is my one true scary story. I hope you enjoy it and put it into a YouTube video. I always listen to your stuff when I play video. video games. Keep doing what you're doing, man. I had a friend named Owen, who lived almost in the middle of nowhere. Even though we went to different schools, we stayed close. One night, my other

friend and none, and I decided to have a sleep over at Owen's place. Sounds fun, right? Well, there's one thing about Owen's house that always creep me the hell out. It sat right on the edge of a dense-ass forest, so thick that even in daylight, you could barely see through it. And to make it worst. His street had no street lights. As I stepped out of the car, I remember thinking, Jesus, it's fucking dark. Owen greeted me at the door, helping me carry the blankets and pillows I brought. The night started off great. We grilled burgers, played video games, and chilled in the hot tub. Like all sleepovers, we stayed up late, deciding to crash out around 1.30 or 2 a.m. We curled up in our blankets and put on a scary movie. I don't remember which one, but it was enough

to fuck with my nerves. When the movie ended, we turned off the TV and and try to fall asleep. I've always had trouble sleeping at other people's houses, but whatever. Eventually, I passed out. At some point in the night, I woke up. Ahan and Owen were sitting on Owen's bed, staring at the huge window that faced the woods. The fuck are you guys doing him, mumbled?

Still have asleep. Owen turned to me, his face pale. We saw something, he whispered, and we heard it. Against my better judgment, I got up and looked out the window. Right then, Owen's dog started going. nuts. But this wasn't a normal bark. It wasn't the, I need to pee bark, or there's a bunny outside growl. This was different. Deep, angry, and desperate. The kind of bark that says, there's something out there, and I will fucking kill it before it gets you. And that's what I

noticed something else. The woods were silent, dead silent. Normally you could hear bugs, owls, the rustling of trees in the wind, but now nothing except for Owen's dog. prowling like he was ready to fight for his goddamn life. And then we saw it. It stood just beyond the tree line, barely visible in the dim moonlight. It was fucking huge, at least seven feet tall, but hunched on all fours. Its skin was pale, almost white. Stretched tied over its thin, unnatural frame.

It had massive, solid black eyes and a wide, lip-less mouth. It looked like some little kid tried to draw a monster but didn't know what the fuck they were doing. The thing stared at us, and then, as I locked eyes with it, It opened its mouth and let out the most ear-piercing, gut-wrenching scream I had ever heard. We ran. We dove on to our beds, yanked the blankets over our heads, and just fucking laid there. Too scared to move. None of us slept, and we just stared at the ceiling, shaking, waiting for the sun to rise.

And here's the weirdest part. Owen and Ahan don't remember shit. Even Owen's parents, who were home that night, swore up and down that they hadn't heard a damn thing. But I know what I saw. I know what I heard, and I'll never fucking forget it. Hi, Snook, I've only recently started watching your videos, binging recently, but they've made me want to share a couple of my own stories. I don't know that I'm a believer in the paranormal, but I do know that it is one of my biggest curiosities. I love hearing about other people's encounters.

All my adult life, I've had experiences that I can't explain. To see other people sharing some of their stories is comforting, as I often feel alone. Anyways, onto my first story. I was about 20 at the time. We had only recently moved. I shared a basement apartment with my boyfriend while the rest of my family lived upstairs. On this particular day, it was only me,

my two young cats, and my dog. My cats were probably around a year old and fearless. Nothing scared them. I was watching a group of people at Ghost Hunt on YouTube. This group in particular was not having much luck. They tried everything and were now trying to use catballs. The kind that had a light inside that flashes when moved, the kind of my cats had.

This group of guys was begging for anything to happen, and finally it did, only it wasn't in their video. The cat ball I owned was currently down the hall for me, still in line in sight from my spot on the couch. The ball started flashing. My cats both woke up from their spots beside me, and their fur raised. The air wasn't on. There weren't any windows open, but it was flashing.

It then started moving. It was slow, but there was definitely movement, and it was coming towards us. Being totally rational and level-headed, I screamed and ran upstairs. Every one of my pets followed. We stayed up there until my boyfriend came home. Hours had passed. It was starting to get it dark outside, meaning the basement would have been pitch black by now.

He got me back down the stairs and the hallway light was on. This wouldn't have been my doing because I sat on the dark to watch TV, and the switch was at the other end of the hall, where the cap ball was when I left. The cap ball was no longer in the hallway. It was by the stairs, meaning the ball had to have rolled all the way down the hall and around the corner. Nothing else happened after my boyfriend arrived, but I was still pretty shaken. As were the cats as they wouldn't leave my side. The cat ball was one of their favorite toys and they refused to play with it after.

I threw it away after about a month of them not playing with it, as it also brought me some discomfort. To this day, I don't watch ghost videos if I'm home alone in case something like that ever happens again. My next experience happened about three years ago. I was about 23 at the time, and my boyfriend and I were moving out of his parents' house. We found a small two-bedroom apartment with my best friend who were also dating, so it worked for us. It took us two days to get everything moved in, as the building didn't have an elevator, and we're on the top floor. The pets were still at my boyfriend's place, as it wasn't yet safe for them, with all the boxes precariously placed. The four of us were sitting on the floor in the living room with a pizza in front of us. We finally had every day. everything in the apartment and would begin to unpack it in the next few days. It was around 5 p.m., and everyone who had helped us had left a few hours prior. Suddenly, a door down our hallway opens and shuts. All four of us heard it. Our heads all whip around to see where the sound came from. My boyfriend went to go check it. Thank goodness he's braver than me. He disappeared down the hall for about two minutes before declaring that the coast was clear and nothing seemed any different.

We sat down for the next 15 minutes before hearing it again. This time, one of my best friends went to check. Again, nothing. We all slept in the living room that night. Over the next few days, we got unpacked, and I brought the pets over. About a month or so, I passed since we moved in, and nothing else had happened.

Until one night, my best friends and I were home. I was watching dishes, and she was watching TV. And guess what was she was watching? A ghost video. My cats were in the room, sleeping on my bed,

and the door was open. We hear a slam. Not a gentle, open, close of a door. No, it shook the walls. My cats came running for their lives out of the bedroom and hid under the couch. I went to go check thinking they knocked something over, and everything was fine. Nothing was moved. The doors were open. I was in my bedroom and my best friend was coming down the hall. I turned to look at her, and over her shoulder there was a dark silhouette. It was huge. I would estimate about eight feet tall and thin. It appeared to be a man. I couldn't distinguish any features

other than that, and strangely, I wasn't afraid of him. When I told my best friend what I had seen and she thought I had lost it, a few more weeks had passed and because of our work schedules, I was alone with my best friend again. We're both on the couch and joined our days off. I looked up and at the end of the door of the hallway, there he was. The shadow I'd seen before. I quickly got her attention and she looked to where I was looking. We both looked at him for about five minutes before he faded away.

There are no stories of any deaths that occurred here, at least not that we could find. We look for months. It sounds crazy, but we named Nathaniel. We didn't just pick any random name. This was the name both of us blurted out when talking about it. It felt right. We only referred to him as such from then on. I'd seen Nathaniel pretty often for the next year and a half.

My best friend only saw him once. In the next few months, one of my cats developed heart disease. And unfortunately, even though the medications we had available to us, we couldn't save him. He passed away about nine months ago now. I haven't seen Nathaniel since then. No doors slamming, no shadows, nothing. I like to think that my fearless little kitty is protecting me,

or that maybe Nathaniel was here to take him into the afterlife. I don't know. I don't think I'll ever know. Thank you for taking the time to read through my experiences. Chantelle. Hey, Snook, first of all, thank you for your videos. I really enjoy them. I'll listen to them while working. They help me concentrate on my work. I've been wanting to share this story for quite some time when I was really happy when he started accepting subscriber stories. Keep up with the good work. Also, please excuse my English.

I'm French. You can call me Clara. I attached some pictures to help comprehend my story and some evidence also. This took place in September 2022. At the time, I was living at my father's house in Montpeler, south of France, and a kind of sketchy neighborhood, but still okay. It was around five in the evening. My father was leaving to go to his rugby practice, and my boyfriend was with me in the house. just as my father was leaving, the door rang. I got curious as to who it was, as we were not waiting for anybody. It was a couple of suitcases in a map. I managed to hear that they were asking for booking apartment in the residence.

But as I knew everyone in the building, it seemed weird to me that one of them had listed their apartment on the internet as open for rental without informing me or my dad. My father sent them away, telling them they must have had the wrong address. As I was eavesdropping, I did make eye contact with the lady, but that was it. 30 or so minutes later, I heard the building's door opening and someone knocking on my door. I was kind of suspicious as to whom it might be and decided to not open the door. I really regretted not having a peephole. The person reiterated their knocks, but without saying anything,

my boyfriend and I stood silent behind the door, and I called my upstairs neighbor. He went down the stairs to see who was knocking on my door, but as his door opened, the person got out of their residence. I explained to my neighbor this situation, and he decided to check the mutual basis. in the mutual garden, but nobody was there. My neighbor went back to his apartment. Meanwhile, I was trying to get my dad on the phone, but he was not answering. 30 minutes later, the same thing happened. Someone knocked on my door, but without speaking or anything. I called my neighbor, but the person got away once again. I was really worked out by that point.

My dad was not answering his phone, and we could not comprehend why someone was knocking on my door like this, and how they're able to get access to the inside of the residence. This was on about hour two. You just can't imagine how stressed I was by the situation. We could have just opened the door, but for some reason I knew we should not. It was then that my father finally answered its phone. I told him what was happening, and he said he would be there in 20 minutes. At the same time that I hung up the phone, where he started hearing voices on my balcony. The balcony had immediate access to the shared garden and was low enough that you could just climb on in. I was starting to cry and was really scared that we could be attacked by people who deliberately knew there was someone inside.

Furthermore, they had only seen me and not my boyfriend. I called hysterically my dad once again. He told us to hide and that he was coming with friends from his rugby practice. I then called my neighbor to ask him to check from his balcony if someone was on mine. The voices had dried down by this point. No one was there anymore. Maybe they had heard him go out of his apartment onto his balcony. My dad finally arrives with his friend.

They checked the whole residence, but nobody was there. I couldn't sleep that night, as I was terrified those people might come back. The morning after, I found the ad on booking that there was a registered at my address. What was really weird were the pictures, as none of the apartments looked like those and that no one had registered their apartment for rental. My dad, neighbor, and I, decided to call booking to take down the ad. We had a really hard time getting them to do it, as they wanted us to file a police report for identity theft, and that it would take weeks to be able to take it down. After that, I don't know how the ad got taken down, as my neighbor alone decided to call them back.

All I know is that it was down in the afternoon. He knows that he had some good friends working his lawyer, so this must have helped. Anyways, that was all for my submission. It was terrifying. And this event contributed to part of my fear of intrusion. Once again, thanks for your work. And if you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask. Clara.

And all right, guys, that wraps up some terrifying, scary stories, and these were all sent in by you. And these ones were definitely more paranormal. So comment down below if you enjoyed the paranormal stories or not or you want to see like more true ones But yeah these are just the stories you guys send in and if you want your Story sent in please just send it to the email in the description or pen comment or whatever I do And I just appreciate watching at the end of the video it means so much you guys are the best please like and subscribe Helps out the channel a ton you don't even understand and yeah, thank you so much for watching This was snook and I'll see you next time. Bye