Snook - Unsettling 4Chan Stories

Episode Date: July 23, 2025

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Hey, what's up guys, and welcome back to another 4chan stories video. You guys have been loving these 4chan stories videos, and I've been loving these 4chan stories. Like, they're so interesting and just a different kind of, you know, storytelling than the Reddit stories. And I hope you guys enjoy. And if you're new here, please subscribe. The channel's goals 500,000 subscribers. So please subscribe to the channel. And I appreciate you all being here. Also like the video, it helps out a ton. Comment down below if you'd like to see more 4chan stories in the future and videos like this in the future or maybe something else. Comment down below. I read every single comment. I appreciate you all. And now, without further do, let's get into some unsettling 4chan stories. A friend of my dad's would babysit me sometimes when I was little. Mom wasn't in the picture, and he used to tell a story to me that scares the absolute shit out of me to this day. Dad's friend, I'll call him Bob, is driving a rig out in the middle of bum fuck nowhere organ. Had to make the delivery by the following morning, so he decides to just drive through the night. It's like one in the morning. No one else is out of the roads. Hasn't seen another car in probably a hundred miles. He is literally in the middle of nowhere. Suddenly the entire

skylights up, instantly like daylight. Bob fucking slams on the brakes. Has no idea what the hell is going on. Everything stays lit up for a good solid 10 seconds. He can see anything. Whatever's happening. It's not lightning. It doesn't stop or flicker at all. Bob hunkers down anticipating imminent nuclear devastation, but suddenly the sky goes dark again. No sound, no blast wave. He sits there in the middle of the road waiting for almost five minutes, then decides to keep going. Figures it was a meteor or something. Goes about two miles up the road and sees a car with its flashes on, stopped in the middle of the road. It stops a good distance away from it. There's not enough room to go around it. Front end of the car is crumpled like it hit something. Bob figures they probably hit a deer

that got spooked whenever the meteor went over and ran into the road. He gets out of the cabin, goes to see if the driver is okay. Driver is sitting on the ground by the driver's side door, has his knees up and is resting his head on his arms. Hey, buddy. You okay? Bob calls. He stops about 10 feet away for seemingly no reason. Something about the whole situation just feels weird. Bob is one of those guys that always listens to his gut so he stays put.

God, my head is killing me, the guy says. But he doesn't lift his head up so it's muffled. Did he hit a deer? Bob asked. He's getting more and more uneasy. Something's wrong. But he still can't figure out what exactly it is. The guy says he thinks he may have hurt his head, asked Bob to please help him.

Bob takes a step forward, but his instincts are going apeshit. He looks at everything again. That's when he notices it. The fucking car is all wrong. It looks like when someone thinks a car looks like. Like they tried to draw it. It does all the right pieces, but there's nothing extra, if that makes sense. Bob says it looked like a cheap hot wheels knockoff.

It just looked wonky and wrong. He looks around at the back of the car and realizes that not only is there no license plate, there's not even a trunk. It's just one solid piece of material with tail lights put in it. There's no manufacturer or model names. Bob knows cars, and this thing is nothing he's ever seen before. From where he's standing, you can see there's no tailpipe or even hubcaps. It's just the shape of a car.

He starts to back up and the guy asked him for help again. Bob tells him he can't help him. and that he'll call a tow truck when he gets to the next town. The guy lifts his head and looks at Bob, tells him he thinks he may have a concussion. Something is really, really wrong with his guy's face. But again, it takes a second for Bob to figure it out. The next part is exactly how Bob described it.

Everything on the man's face was where it should have been in their normal position. He looked totally normal, except for the fact that his eyes and mouth were on upside down. Bob goes out of ship and sprints back to his rig. Limeson locks the door just in time with a man to slam into the door behind him. How the fuck did he get there so fast? He knocks on the glass and smiles at Bob, but because his mouth is upside down, it looks like he's screaming,

tells Bob to open the door so he can come in. Bob fucking floors it. Doesn't care if he hits the guy or not. His truck easily pushes the car out of the way. Whatever it is, it's light, and it makes no sound when he hits it. Unfortunately, it's an anti-climatic ending. Bob got where he was going fine with no other problem. My dad knows his story, but I don't think he believes it, but Bob tells it to everyone he meets,

so he obviously does. He's absolutely adamant about the guy being an alien. Years later, I heard about the Thatcher effect and nearly had a fucking heart attack when I saw it. I showed one of the pictures to Bob, and he wouldn't even look at it. He says it's exactly what the guy looked like. Pick very much related. The Jersey Devil Hello, I have lurked here and on 4chan in general for a while. now and I have read many scary and disturbing stories from you guys. Well, I think that it is high time

that I share my own story with you. I don't really give a rat's ass whether you believe me or not. I'm just recounting to you a nightmarriage experience that me and my friends had. Here we go. Be me, American, early 20s, about 13 years ago, just finished getting an engineering degree at college, relaxing in a cafe with the boys. We are all roommates, so we know each other pretty well. Me and three other friends, Greg, Maximilian, Yes, that is his name, and I'm really fucking jealous of him for that, since I think it sounds really fucking cool. And I'll be referring to him as Max occasionally. And Franklin, or Frank, what most people call him, decided to go on a pro trip. We decide on camping. We are not exactly

experienced at Into Woods camping, but we have gone regular camping before and enjoyed it. Decide that, as we are not very experienced, we need a place that is not way out there in the event that we managed to fuck up something and need to leave. Franklin lived in New Jersey at the time. He's just camping in the Pine Barrens. It covers a surprisingly large area and is as remote as we are going to get considering our budget and where we live. Frank explains. The rest of us agree that the place sounds good. We start to plan out the trip. Decide that we need to go during the fall or summer as a cold camping trip would suck ass. Maximilian proposes that instead of camping at some basic bitch campsite with like 200 other people, why not just go hiking, find a suitable clearing

off the trail and camp there for three or four days. We all like this idea. Greg says that his cousin could drop us off and pick us up, as we would not really have a place to park a car for several days while he romp around in the woods. So fast forward a few days. We have the trip all planned out for the most part, going to be out there for four days and three nights, leaving on Friday and returning on Monday. Greg's cousin will drop us off at the edge of the woods. Rendezvous with his cousin at the intersection of Long Island Expressway and Waiting River Road on the fourth day. We have the following, a one-shot. bought 22 LR rifle for each of us.

Additionally, Maximilian has a 45 ACP 1911 and Franklin has a revolver, a 38 or 22. I can't remember which. Camping essentials, I'd rather not waste time describing all of them. I think Greg brought a fishing rod, a few changes of clothes, and we decided against bringing our girlfriends, as Greg had just broken up with his and we didn't want him to feel alone. And the other ones were not too crazy about spending several nights in the woods. So fast forward to the Friday.

I have all my ship packed and ready to go. At like 10 or 11 a.m., Greg's cousin pulls up to our house in a dark green Plymouth minivan. We toss our stuff in the back and head off. It was like an hour and a half drive from the house to where we would get dropped off. For the sake of brevity, I will refer to Greg's cousin as Carl. Carl seems like a pretty good guy. He graduated uni a few years before we did. The drive there is fun.

We mainly talk about what we were going to do, where we were going to hike, what we were going to eat. and fast forward to us driving along the forest's edge. Check for officers. Are we insecure? We pull off to the side of the road that we are on. Unpack and hop out. Wave and say goodbye to Greg's cousin. Head off into the woods. We plan on hiking for a few hours until we find a good clearing. Hike a mile or two into the woods. It has been pretty nice so far. Little amounts of trash. Seeing a few chipmunks and squirrels. Hear the birds singing. We definitely heard a few woodpeckers. We reach a clearing. It is rough roughly 45 or 50 feet in diameter. Worst part of it was a poison ivy patch on the northeast edge of the clearing. We made sure to avoid this area. Here is a pick of the area. We set up our tents in the area.

We then build a fire pit and gather firewood because why do that at night? Do you want to spray an ankle from tripping on some branch? And color code for the map. And this guy did it in MS paint so it's really low quality. but the color code is light green is clearing dark green equals woods dark dark green equals poison ivy red equals tense orange equals fire pit brown equals logs and after setting up home base we decided to hike some more and plink some targets hike is going nicely see some geese flying in the distance in their familiar v formation unfortunately see a few plastic bottles and some bushes sort of depressing and annoying. We see some fucking jewel Osco grocery bag stuck on a tree.

We aren't exactly Al Gore, but something about being so far into the woods and still seeing some lazy fuckers trash really annoyed us. Frank is somewhat good at climbing, so he decides to climb up there and pull it down. Says it's a pack on the ground, it begins to climb. The plastic bag is about 15 feet above the ground. It takes Frank about three minutes to get it. Oh, fuck, he yells. What is it?

You okay? Yeah, I'll tell you when I get down. Frank untangles the bag from the branches that it was caught on and jumps back down to us. I saw some fucked up animal up there, he says. What was it? A fucked up raccoon, bro. Shit, like, how fucked up? Its head was mashed in, its chest was torn open, with all the ribs looking broken.

Also, it smelled like burnt rubber. That's fucking gross. You didn't touch you, did you? It might have some weird disease. Oh, shit, I hadn't even considered that. Well, did you? No, but I'm going to put some hydrogen peroxia. outside of my hands just to be safe. What do you think did it? My guess is that some hawk was carrying it,

dropped it, got it back, and was in the middle of eating it when we showed up. It got scared and flew a safe distance away. Sounds about right. Anyway, what was your plan with the plastic bag now that you were stuck with it? Uh, I hadn't thought about that. What am I supposed to do with this? It's not like a, there's a dumpster nearby. Just put in your back pocket and let's get back to hiking. We've dicked around here for too long, and I don't want to be hiking to camp in the dark. Sure thing. on our hike. And some quick info. Since I live in the suburbs, I'm used to seeing a bunch of fat and slow squirrels and chipmunks right next to them. So it is for me to go in a woods and skinny squirrels and how rarely suburbs. So I was already due to how far I was out of my self that everything

was fine and that concerns of mine were just from lens and technology. But you get what I mean. But that it would be helpful in an attitude towards woods. Anyway, we're marching along. See the sun just boys that, and we start the same way that we came, we don't want. This guy has that orange, yellow, hit as the sun sets. We were passing the tree that Greg trips on a large, he falls face first as he stands and stuff back up. Hey, when I see a large on his jacket that wasn't there before, ask, huh?

Maxxed down at his jacket, sees the stain. The fuck is this. Fuck, I just got the old. Sarah was his girlfriend of the then. Maximilian grabs where Greg fell. Exposing the corpse was not a fresh one. Chest ripped open. Surprisingly, there was.

Seeing that the corpse was, Fregg was starting to spur back with screaming, little grub fuckers on me. Fuck, damn it, or something similar. Wing is jacking into some tree, hit the maggots and blood off. The leaves and handed it to wipe it off as much scum as you can. A handful of fucking leaves are gonna do.

Hose. Greg barks at him. Shut the fuck up. Frank is just trying to best cleaning supplies so you can get. We're in the middle of the goddamn woods. Remember, about to fire a retort's wall. Aon has a point, Greg. We get back to our campsite before we act.

Just a fucking jacket. Stop spas. We are on this to graduation. Yelling at a jean about. some gunk of relaxing. Greg, there are still a fish brown spot with most of the sunlight gone.

This inspires us to move at a much faster pace, since trying to find your way through unfamiliar woods at night is almost fucking hopeless, and we can't just set up camp as all our sleeping gear was back at the clearing. Thankfully, we reached the clearing after roughly 30 minutes and don't get

lost in the woods at night. Maximilian gets the fire started as me and Frank get the food out. Greg is trying to remove the posse and blood with some dish soap, paper towels, and some of the distilled water we brought with us. Max asked us what food we packed. Me and Frank take turns announcing each thing we packed as we pulled them out. Jerky, uh, refried beans, uh, spam, the magical fruit. What? Wait, the magical fruit, Frank answers? Do you know beans? Greg, who must have been listening, adds in, I've literally never heard a sane person refer to banked beans as the magical fruit.

do you call it? It doesn't even look like it could be a fruit. My dad, and on his side of the family, have a goofy little song that they sing when they're eating beans. Frank responds, who wants to hear it? I egg them on saying, sure, dude. Who would I want to hear some hillbilly song about eating beans? I'm not a hillbilly, you dick. Do you want to hear it or not? Okay, then, Frank says, here it is. Beans, beans, the magical fruit. The more you eat, the more you toot. The more you toot, the better feel, so I have beans ever meal. What do you think? Funny? Maximilian speaks first. I wouldn't say those high-class humor, but I did find it funny to imagine you and like five other grown-ass men singing that at the dinner table. By the way, Frank is pretty buff, and so are all

the other guys in his family. So the image of like six buff men singing the more you tut is absurd enough for me and my friends to get a keck out of the song. We all enjoy a good, hearty meal and Franklin seems quite pleased with himself. The meal we decide on just to happens to be baked beans. Max yells that it's dinner time. The rest of us head over, grab a plate, Max serves us our share, and we sit down on some large rocks. Frank immediately goes, and a one, and a two, and a three, we all break into the song and sing the song. We all cheer with completion of our badly synchronized recital and begin to consume our dish. In the middle of our ritual of the consumption of the baked beans, a loud shriek tears through the woods.

I don't really know how to describe it, since I don't hear animal cries where I live, but rest assured, it was really fucking loud and was more painful to hear than being in a room full of people scratching their nails across the chalkboard. What hell was that? Was that some sort of animal's death screech I asked my friends? I've heard the screams of dying animals before. That sounds nothing like one. It was too loud for a dying animal to make, too. You'd have to be sitting right next to the animal for that kind of volume, Greg tells me. Well, whatever it was, it made me drop my plate, Max Groans. I glance over at the ground in his direction. Poor dude's plate landed upside down. None of his was being survived. Greg offered some of him and the problem is solved. They all resumed their

meals like nothing happened while I sat stunned. What? What? That's it? None of you are going to, the slightest bit concerned or even curious. None of you have the slightest clue to what that was so you guys have decided to just ignore it? I guess so. What are we planning to do? Go into the wizard night to try and figure out some source of a scary loud noise replies Frank. Well, no, but then do your best to ignore it. We can sleep on shifts if you want. You can sleep on shifts. I want to get a good night's sleep, ads, and Greg? Okay, you're fine with this, Frank, I say?

Yes, I am. Stop schooling about it before I change my mind, he answers. I shut up and finished my meal. Frank rolled up a couple of logs around the campfire. We head over and begin to talk about the campfire. We are sharing stories about college. As Max Millian and Greg are telling us about a shitty professor they both had, I look over at Frank.

He is staring wide-eyed past Max and Greg deep into the woods. I follow his line of sight. and it takes a minute or two before I notice them. The hair on the back of my neck goes straight up, and I get goosebumps on my skin. I can see a pair of two yellow-orange eyes about 20 yards away. I'm not exactly able to tell how high off the ground they were. Max and Greg, noticing that no one is listening to them

and are instead looking into the forest, ask us what the fuck is so interesting. Right as they say this, something makes a loud snort slash grunt. This is followed by a long growl, like a large dog's growl, but deeper, louder, and far more medicine. I get up and now realize how big this thing must be. The eyes are at my level, and I'm six-four.

Max and Greg, who are the closest to the edge of the clearing bolt off of their logs and get to our side of the campfire. Frank snaps out of his gaze and grabs his revolver. He stands and aims it in the eyes, yelling it to fuck off. The rest of us start over to our tents and achieve our guns and spare ammo. I load mine. We get in the line. We aim. Frank says, on the count of three, fire.

One, two, three. Fire. We shoot in a semi-unison. We can't hear if we hit anything because multiple guns firing at once in close proximity on an otherwise quiet night is really fucking loud. Once I regain my full senses, I no longer see the eyes. Fuck.

I don't know whether to feel relieved or to feel more concerned. What the fuck was that thing, said someone? Whatever that was, it's gone now. Okay, Aanon. It looks like if you got your wish, we're definitely sleeping in shifts tonight, if we sleep at all. We all reload and set up a sort of perimeter. We just cleared out all that would be blocked out of our field of view. Basically, all vegetation on rocks over six inches were cleared.

We used the locks to make a barrier-ish thing. This barricade served more purpose for our own feeling of safety. It did not really serve any realistic purpose for defense. The forest is now dead quiet. Shit is really creepy, and here is our plan. One sleeps while three are awake. One man has the 1911. One man has the revolver and the other has the four 22 rifles.

The second a person sees something yellow or orange in the woods. They immediately fire a warning shot into the air to wake the other boys up and hopefully scare it off. Me, Frank, and Greg take the first shift. All is well. Second shift is me, Max, and Greg. At some point, Greg gets spooked by what he says is something shuffling in the woods. He fires at it. He and Max nearly jump out of the same.

skin. Frank wakes up. We are pissed at Greg, but nothing else happened that night. Fast forward the morning. We hastily pack up. We immediately go back to the way we think we came, as we will somewhat have an idea of how far we must go. Greg says that he is going to check on the area that he shot at last night. We tell him to wait a few minutes so that the rest of us can go with them for safety reasons. About five minutes later, we are fully packed and head over to the area. We are looking around for signs that show that there was some sort of animal here last night. Max shouts at us to have a look at what he found. There is a distinct trail of hoof prints.

These were not deer tracks. They were bigger and were cloven. My blood runs cold. Greg is pleased to see that he was correct to fire. Max reminds him that if this was a human, he would be feeling otherwise. Frank says that maybe this was from a cow or a horse. I tell him that these woods are not a good environment for a fully grown cow and that it would have been much louder last night if it was a horse that Greg shot at.

Greg shuts up. We are all thoroughly spooked and decide to get the fuck out. We begin our trip back to the highway. Our plan is to get to the highway before sundown and then try to hitch a ride. We make sure that our guns are loaded and head off. We are hiking through the undergrowth as fast as possible now. We aren't the fittest people, so we are not moving very fast. However, the hike back is very different from the hike to here.

Landmarks are different or look different or our. are not there at all. Fallen logs that are remembered to be covered in mushrooms are instead covered in thick layers of moss. This may not sound scarier or anything, but when you're trying to get the fuck out of the woods and you think that there may or may not be an animal stocking you, it is different. These differences in the landmarks and environment throw us off a bit. At roughly noon, we decide that we do not know where we're going. Greg starts to freak out, and we all start to freak out. Like the retards that we are, we did not think to bring any sort of flares. It takes the four of us like 30 minutes to get our shit together. Thankfully, me and Frank had packed compasses. When we

entered the woods, we went northeast. We decide that our best option is to go straight south. About a half an hour after devising the new plan, Frank spots a half-eaten deer. The deer has had its stomach torn open. Intestines aren't visible. Its thighs have been mostly consumed. Its eyes are also eaten. This creeps us out more, but we aren't too concerned by it since. Frank suggested that it was left behind by some coyotes. But I do. didn't believe that for a second. I don't think that the other guys noticed this, but like 20 yards past the deer carcass, I saw four other half-eaten deer. At least one of them was a buck with a full rack of antlers. I chose not to tell them, as I believe that fear will not help us escape the

woods. I was probably right to do so. Unfortunately for us, the first deer was not the only carcass that the group of us came across. Every 10 to 15 minutes, we would come across a new animal corpse, more deer, birds, rabbits, and squirrels, all partially eaten. All have the same parts of them eaten as the first deer. Each corpse we find only adds to our anxiety and fear, but we still tell ourselves that it is probably just a pack of coyotes. This possibility brings us a sense of security, however, small sense of security. That was until we found a coyote. It's half eaten, just like the others. Judging from what was left of the creature, it was all healthy and muscular. This shatters our theory that coyotes were responsible for all the dead animals. I don't know very much about coyotes,

but I don't see why a pack would just turn on one, kill it and eat it in the same fashion as every other animal. Max is the first to put two and two together. The dude goes pale. It takes a second or two for the rest of us to catch on. Oh, fuck me. This epiphany shatters our last nerve. We break into a full sprint in the direction that we've been hiking in. This part is sort of a blur of sticks hitting my face, thorny plants scratching my skin, and sheer panic. I have no idea how long we ran for, but when we stopped running and regrouped, my watch at 4.45 p.m. We have two hours before sunset. Thankfully, no one got separated or hurt themselves during our mad dash, so we were good to go. We recheck our orientation with the compasses and continue our trek south. We are no longer

finding dead animals, which puts our mind at more of an ease. We start to believe that the worst is over, how fucking wrong we were. The next half an hour is. mundane with the most action being Greg almost tripping and falling into a poison ivy patch. It was actually kind of relaxing to just hike through the woods, believing the illusion in that it's safe, but after that calm half hour, shit hit the fan and fast. Max was the first to notice it. He whispers at the rest of us to though to stay quiet. We shut up and hear it. The distant beating of wings. If you have ever been close to a large bird when it flies, then you have an idea of what sounded like. Only problem was there were no words in sight. Hide, Max whispers. Each of us

scrambled for a bush or a log to hide under. We are dead quiet. It takes what felt like hours for the sound of the wing to dissipate, but it was probably only 20 minutes. The fuck was that, Greg, ass. I have no idea, but whatever it was, my guess is that it was responsible for all those dead animals, Frank responds, and let's not be the next meal. We resume our journey yet again, but this time we are on high alert. We freeze every, a branch snap, where I squirrel rustles through the tree, where a woodpecker drills a hole. We're moving a lot slower, and it is getting closer and closer to sundown. Nothing really happens for a while.

At 6.30, we stopped to catch a breath. Orange is starting to appear on the horizon. I check my compass, and we are still on track. We decide on what to do. No one wants to stay another night in the woods, but Max and Greg are against hiking through unknown terrain at night, while me and Frank are convinced that if we don't continue on, we are going to be a midnight snack for the thing that killed all of those other

animals. I end up convincing them to go by pointing out the imminent danger of staying and pointing out that the road that we came down here on shouldn't be more than two miles away, which should only take us another 40 to 50 minutes. Unfortunately, this took a grand total of 15 minutes for us to decide, and the sky is orange from the sunset. After 25 minutes, the only light is from the moon, which is very bright as there were a few clouds and an old oil lantern that Greg brought with. So we are now walking in a single file line with Greg leading the way like a bunch of kindergartners. And it's here where shit hits the fan. Greg asks,

Hey guys, is it? Raining? There are literally no clouds in the sky and we tell him so. Then why am I feeling water dripping onto me? He asks and he shines the light of the lantern into the trees. Why did God leave us? The light illuminates the face of the ugliest and most terrifying thing I've ever seen. It is a cross of a goat and a horse is shape.

with bright yellow eyes, but without any fur. It opens its mouth and roars the same roar that we heard last night, but a thousand times louder. Its gums are black, its tongue is pink, and like that of a dog, and its teeth are almost as yellow as its eyes. This thing's canines were at least an inch and a half long. Its chin has a few dark brown or black hairs. The rest of it is not illuminated enough to make out. It catches all of us by surprise. For one long-ass second, we all look on in a mixture of shire.

shock, fear, and awe. Then our fight or flight instincts kick in, and we bolt. It roars again and takes flight. In the distance, we see these streetlights of a road and run even faster. I'm crying like a bitch, with my tears from joy and fear. We make it to the road and continue running down it. Max is ahead of everyone. I'm behind him. Frank is behind me. Greg is behind Frank, but then Greg trips, stumbles for a second and faceplants. I screech to a halt and turn around and get a good look at the thing for the first time. Unless I get Alzheimer's or dementia, I will never forget the sight of that abomination approaching my friend. It is a massive beast, and it has the same kind of muscle tone as a Russian powerlifter.

It has the body of a hairless horse, and is covered in scars of all different shapes and sizes. Some look like the scars of a knife wound, but others look more like bullet holes. Its skin is a pooched, pinkish-red color. It has the hind legs of a horse, but instead of having four legs, that has a pair of massive, muscular human arms with human hands. The nails of the hands are at least an inch long, sharp-looking, and black in color. It has a long rat-like tail. I'd estimate a length of roughly 7 to 8 feet with a few sparse patches of dark brown or black hair.

The abomination is at least 20 feet long and 6 feet at the shoulder. Its neck is like a foot long, but probably like 2 feet in diameter. I now notice the long semi-curved horns protruding from its head like the neck. those of a goat. You probably know what I'm talking about now. And if you don't, it's the Jersey devil. It touches down on all fours like 30 or 40 feet in front of Greg. Greg fires his 22 at it and hits it square in the chest. It doesn't acknowledge being shot at all. It walks on all fours and reaches for Greg, who is in the middle of reloading his rifle. I don't want this fucking thing eating my friend. I call it some racial slurs, can't remember which, slide the bolt into place.

I take aim, pull the trigger and fire. I hit it right next to its right up. eye. This, it notices. It roars up on its hind legs, clutching its eye, roaring louder than a police siren. Roar is different this time. It is still loud and deep, but now it also has the sound of a dying cat. Frank and Max stop running and see the predicament that me and Greg are in. They draw the rifles and fire at it. Drop the rifles, draw their handguns, and sprint over to where I am. This only seems to anger the beast more as it grabs Greg. Greg screams in pain and several audible snaps are heard. Max and Frank and shoot at its torso. It throws Greg into a light post and begins to advance on us and we back up.

I see something behind it? A light? I squint my eyes. It's a cop car. I'm hoping that he can call backup or help us shoot at it. As the monster quickens its pace, the cop arrives. To everyone surprise, the car slams into the monster. The monster is sent sprawling. Two cops exit the vehicle and pull out very shiny lever action rifles. I think that they were here for 45 to 70 government and start to shoot at it. It screams like it did when I hit it in the head and contours its body and pain each time one of the cops fire another round into it.

We get the idea and join in the shooting. At some point the abomination must have decided that we were not worth the pain, got up on all fours, and ran into the woods. After we were sure that it had left, the three of us ran over to check on Greg. We make sure that he is still alive, he is, and then me, Max, and Frank, talk to the cops.

What in the hell was that? Max asks, they asked, as he had said nothing. You boy, sure are our love. Lucky that the two of us were driving down the road. One of the cops, a blonde, chubby guy says, those rabbed buck are violent as hell and damn sure menace with their antlers. You were not packing anywhere near enough firepower. Me and Frank are about to call his lie, but the other cop, an old-looking man,

gives us a death stare that shuts us up. The only thing that you ever saw attack your friend was a large buck with a bad case of rabies, he flatly says. Nothing else. The cops got an ambulance, two for Greg, and took us to the hospital. Greg had fractured his tailbone, broken several ribs, and broke his right shoulder blade. No one at the hospital asked us what happened after we tell them it was a rabid buck. Frank calls up Greg's cousin and explains the scenario, minus the monster.

The rest of us were fine, minus bruises and scratches. And there you have it. Greg recovered, though he will never be as fit or capable as he used to be. The four of us still keep in touch as our only validation that this was real, that this really did happen, is the fact that we all know what we saw, and we all saw the same thing. I'm the only one of us who still enjoys hiking in the woods, but that is probably because I live in Colorado, far away from New Jersey or the Pine Barrens.

But every once in a while, if I have an exceptionally bad day at work, or go to sleep very stressed, it visits me in my dreams, chasing me and my friends through the woods and down that road. I'll be checking into here throughout today and tomorrow if anyone wants to talk. And I kind of like that story. I'm just going to add my input after that one. That was a long story, like 30 minutes almost. But I enjoyed that because I've always heard about the Jersey Devil,

but I've really never had it kind of more fleshed out. And that was a good story. Whether or not you believe it, I think it was still a good story. And entertain it. Comment down below what you thought about that one and into the next one. I live in the northern part of Sakha or Yucata, Russia for around 10 years, and I've encountered a lot of weird shit. there. I'll start with some context. B-13. Dad and mom break up because dad is abusive. Mom loses

a court case and dad gains custody. After divorce, dad changes and starts seeing weirdos for life advice. Some guy tells him that he needs to cut himself from society to awaken his third eye or some shit. So we moved from Sank-Peterberg to motherfucking city five and I can't pronounce Russian, so I don't know. A town so fucking secluded it didn't have a name. Life, as you'd expect, was fucking shit and boring. The schools there didn't even teach English, the official Yucut language or even basic sciences. The locals are cool, though. So on to the paranormal stuff. I'll start off with the creepiest one. I've personally never encountered it. In fact, I've only known three people who claim they have. But the whole city of five is scared of it. We call it the flatman.

It's said to appear in some of the most rural areas of the region. The best way I could describe it is to compare to a living shadow, but it's more like a void in the shape of a human on the floor. Its shape cannot appear on trees or buildings, only the ground. Apparently, the flatman has made entire tribes of people disappear. In 1989, a group of around 10 people went to hunt it. Two months later, clothing started to wash up in the local river. It was their clothing. Apart from being wet, the clothing wasn't damaged.

The next night, screaming could be heard outside the town. Another time, some guy was hunting deer. He spotted the deer, but it seemed to have its leg stuck in something. When he got closer, he could see the flat man holding the deer's leg. It then started making a pulling motion. You know what happens when something is pulled through a tiny hole? Well, that is what basically happened to the deer, not a trace of the deer left. Hunter instantly runs as far away as he can.

I have a classmate. Let's call him Igor. Igor's dad has encountered the flat man at one point. Be him, 1992. He works for a small wood-cutting business, patches of four, are valuable in Yucata. So if your boss tell you to go, you can't object. So he's at the spot and he comes across uprooted trees in the shape of a spiral. He tries to get the fuck out, but keeps coming back at the spiral. Notice is that the other trees are still bending. Starts feeling

weird sensation. His own body is swayed towards the spiral. The pole gets so strong that he has to push himself off trees to move it. Then suddenly all the uprooted trees get sucked up into the ground. The force of the pole is so strong, it breaks one of his arms. He looks so strong. He looks so over and there's a massive fucking hole where the spiral was. In the hole, he can make out the flatman. He starts moving in a swimming motion. See, the flat man is called that instead of like Shadowman because he doesn't move like one. When he turn your shadow, change his shape to reflect that, but the flat doesn't do that. He can't move his arms through his chest, so he moves in this weird swimming motion. Igor's dad starts running and Flatman gives chase. The flat man can fuck with shadows.

Every time a shadow of a tree gets in his way, he kind of swats it away and the entire tree breaks. He makes it to his car and manages to lose it. Me and a few friends actually managed to stumble onto the crater, and surely enough, it was in the shape of a spiral. It was overgrown. The entire time we were near it, everything felt floaty, and we couldn't feel, smell, or taste. In the last guy I know of that encountered the flat man died in 2006,

but someone told his story. Apparently he was a hermit and lived just away from the town. One day he noticed the land had risen slightly and messed with the foundation of the house, which was like the one in the pick. It keeps rising, so he gets a guy to take a look. Dude sees in, tells him to leave immediately. Hermit is stuck up, so he stays.

He wakes to half of his house missing in a giant pillar in the sky. Some locals saw the pillar in the sky. A few of the braver ones go to check it out, and they find the guy. He's out cold. Guy's legs are missing, said his legs were so cleanly cut, they weren't even bleeding. They get the guy and drive away. A few minutes later, pillar goes back down. Hermit wakes up.

says the flatman grabbed the shadow of his legs and just took them off because he passed out never went to the location because he genuinely lived in a scary as fuck place full of bears and wolves and the flatman is the creepiest one by far nomads cover their ears if you bring them up or straight up start a fight with you some of the more integrated nomads tell tales about ancient tribes tried their hardest to eradicate it and went missing he's the only thing that no one dares to fuck with people don't like talking about him be me fifteen two years after moving it me and dad are having breakfast and get a knock at the door open it guy standing there looks almost identical to the pick and the pick is up on screen tips his hat and introduces himself as ivan ivanov

basically the john smith of russia this happened in 2009 so the guy's very out of place dad being the understanding gentleman that he is tells him what do you fucking want instantly get this sinking feeling in my stomach. Dad's speech becomes ten times more polite. Ivan says that he's the governmental representative of City Five. He's responsible for tax collection. Solving judicial problems and keeping the peace starts telling us about how the town works. I think to myself, I know this stuff. He instantly stops talking and excuses himself. Ivan leaves and we both sit there dumbfounded for a bit. Part 5. Me and Dad are bringing firewood back home and

and visit a market. While there, Ivan taps my dad's shoulder. Everybody instantly quiets down. Ivan and Dad start talking. From what I could tell, dad did some dumb shit, and a few townsfolk were mad. Dad instantly starts spurging out, then he shuts up. A local comes by and defends my dad. Ivan then says, if you continue your unacceptable behavior, there will be consequences. Understand? Then I get the sudden urge to nod. Everyone around Ivan, even people who weren't looking at him nod. Ivan goes around to corner and he's fucking gone. Ivan does so much creepy shit. On many occasions, I've seen him just appear out from dark alleyways or rooms. Anyone who fucks with Ivan just disappears. Anytime I talk to

Ivan, it's like half this shit I say. I don't even think about. I've heard a story that some nomad got drunk and started stabbing random people, so Ivan just came into the bar and the guy just shuts down and dies. Everybody feels the urge to leave and when it stops, they instantly come back. Both Ivan and the nomad are gone. I remember I once got to got drunk and ended up sleeping in some guy's property, rumors about me start spreading around the community. It's evening, and I'm reading a book. Enjoying your read? Then fucking Ivan comes out of the darkness. It scares the shit out of me, but a soothing sensation quickly kicks. Ivan starts to literally interrogate me, asks really personal questions about life and family. I answer with as much

detail as possible, even though I don't want to. Ivan eventually concludes that this chat, walks into the darkness and disappears. Ivan's creepy-ass face and voice still gives me shivers. Part six, sorry for not posting yesterday was really busy. First, I think I should explain more about the nomads. The nomads are basically tribes of nomadic horsemen that split off from the main Yakut societies. Their language is very hard to understand,

but some nomads have integrated into Russian society and translate for us. They believe some sort of Pangan religion, from what I've been told, they believe in five gods. The gods are named after the cardinal directions. North, Cahid, god of wind and everything to do with the cold. South, Amnid, God of fertility in nature. East, Zun, God of the Hunt and the Trickster.

West, Varroon, God of Guns and Death. Tengri is taken from Tenggism and is basically the All-Father. There's also Khazar, which I'll be telling a story about. So be me, 2012. Dad goes out to go for a drink and doesn't come back. People start telling me to go look for him. This isn't the first time this happened, so I just chilled. Two weeks go by. A few locals found Dad's body. They request I do a proper burial. I couldn't be bothered, so I just tell them to put him six feet under. Next day, I'm out gathering firewood in between the trees. I see a pair of eye staring at me.

I try to get closer, but when I blink, it disappears. Then when walking back home, I see it again on a rock. I can make out its shape, long, skinny legs, small body, and big, shiny eyes. Very similar to pick. As soon as I saw it, I knew it was the Khazar. In legend, it's basically supposed to be an omen from the gods. If you somehow offended one of the gods, Khazar starts appearing to you. I understood that I had offended some god by not burying my father. I've lived here long enough to know not to fuck with the paranormal. So the next day, I gave a... My father. father, a proper Tengri burial. I stopped seeing the Khazar after that. The Khazar appears a lot to hunters. Most hunter heed the warning and either avoid the area or bring back the catchback. There was a few

stuck-ups, though. One guy didn't heed the warning and had a bear break into his home and got killed. Then someone was found impaled on a deer's horn. Another was found frozen in a lake. A hunter's gun once exploded when he shot and mutilated him, and a few people were crushed, were by their own roof. caving in on them from snow buildup. All of these people had said about being visited by the Khazar. The guy who got killed by a bear had told close friends that the Khazar's eyes became brighter over time. For him, the eyes were bright enough to illuminate his whole house. Had a friend who got quite unlucky with the Khazar. Let's call him Vlad. Vlad loves to seclude himself in the wilderness and when he had free time, he would always go up north to camp. One day, Vlad goes camping. Nothing goes wrong,

but when he's coming back to City 5, he starts seeing the Khazar. A friend didn't kill any animal, nor do anything that would piss off the gods, so he assumed that the area was off limits, but the Khazar doesn't go away. In fact, he starts seeing wolves stalking him from the brush. One day, while Vlad is going to work, the pack of wolves attacks him. One of them latches onto his arm and starts tearing into it. He manages to hurt the wolf, and that gives him enough time to escape to safety. After that, wolves leave him alone.

For months, Vlad pops. Honders what he could have done, but can't put a finger on it. Then one of the locals said he found Vlad's campsite, and sitting there was a single fucking beer can. Part 8. Be me. Don't have much money, and a lot of shit to breaks down before winter. If you know anything about the northeastern Russia, you'll know that the winters are hellish, so I need money quick. There's a meat vendor that'll pay good for bison. The vendor gets a party together and we go out hunting. The party consists of me, Igor, Vlag, Andrew, McHale, and other five people. But they're irrelevant since we split into two groups. Our group goes to a place around 50 kilometers from Chokorah. We're deep in a forest

tracking some bison prints. Suddenly here a low grown. As soon as it stops, the wind picks up and it starts snowing. Snow in September isn't the weirdest thing out here, but it's not uncommon. As time goes on, wind and snowfall become stronger. Vision is so obscure you can only see about 50 meters in front of you. It's starting to get late, so we start looking for a place to camp. We come up to this slope, which has a great view of the area. Igor and Andrew stay to set up camp and the rest of us go gather wood. Five minutes in, we heat your go shout, I can't speak Russian, which basically means holy shit. Everyone comes back and Igor is pointing at the horizon. I don't know if Igor had eagle vision, but we can't make out shit. So we tell Igor there's nothing

there. Continue with their day and go to sleep. Miquel wakes me up at around 6 a.m. Dude, wait the fuck up. I get out of my tent, there was a fucking giants in the horizon. It was humanoid, but it was crooked. Skinny as hell. The arms didn't quite match. It had trees and shit growing on it.

Two of them grew in the shape of horns. I couldn't make out its features due to the fog, and it made zero fucking noise. The only reason Mekale woke up was because hundreds of birds were perched up and flying around. All of us got the fuck out and never came back. got chewed out by our employer and had to do shitty janitor jobs. They didn't care, though, because I'm not fucking with whatever that thing was. And now the user responds to some comments and says,

yes, I have plenty more stories. Okay, so in between Psychelic and Belajagora, there's a community of five houses. In one of these homes lives this guy we just call Khan. He has hundreds of stories. Some so out there, even I couldn't believe them. He's very awkward to be around because, because all he talks about is nomad culture, hunting and shepherding. So here's a story that involved him.

2014. Andrew and Vlad have jobs in the local police. They get an assignment to check up on a patch of land that someone wants to cultivate. It sounds like a boring job, so they invite me and Andrew to camp with them. On the way, we see a lot of nomad tribes moving around. When we stop by the community, we ask about the tribes. They tell us that they're moving for some sort of summer solstice celebration. Before we leave, they insist we take Khan with us.

It was plain obvious that they just wanted to get rid of him for a few days. Regudgingly, we took him with us. The whole car ride was very awkward and boring. We finally got to our spot, which was around 10 kilometers from Kubragana. We set up and start grilling Shash Creek. It's a really fun evening, even Khan got a bit laxed. Everyone goes to sleep at around 12 a.m. I wake up at around 2 a.m. to fucking Khan throat singing at the top of his lungs.

We were pretty drunk and ticked off, so we start telling Khan to shut the fuck up. While we're arguing, Mikhail fucking snaps and starts screaming at Khan. The argument goes on for two hours. After everything calms down a bit, we decided to pack up and finish up here. Problem is, we're nowhere near our camp. It's like we got moved to some random location. There's a thick fog that obscures anything five meters away, just as bad as the one on the pick. Khan tells us we are royally fucked up.

tells us that we need fire right now. Everyone scrambles for their lighters. Kahn tells everyone to follow him. We think about it for a second, but realize it's probably better to follow the two-meter-tall nomad than stay out here. Khan starts leading us while walking Kahn

is singing some nomad song, and we hear a bell ring. As soon as we hear it, we're all lined face down on the floor. Then hear a chirp and start throwing up water. Khan says, it started. Listen to everything I've got to say. Make sure to check your back if you hear weird noises. As soon as he finishes his sentence, there's children's giggles

and all of our clothes are tied together. We hear a loud pop and our fire sources become ten times brighter. Con tells us to carry on. In the fog, there are silhouettes of four figures watching us. First one is just some big dude with a crown. Second one is also huge. His knees are bent backwards and he has deer horns. Third one is a woman's proportions and has goat horns. Fourth looks like a normal dude with a gun. We can hear a chorus of laughter and cheering coming from around us. Khan asked Vlad if he's checked his back. We all turn around. There is this dried up tall person, basically a fucking skeleton behind Vlad. It gets scared away by the fire and retreats into the fog. There is multiple of them and they keep trying to jump at us. Con calls them failures.

We come across a rabbit. Con instantly grabs and kills it. He raises the rabbit into the air and says something in his language. We can hear a bit of booing. and groaning coming from all around us. Then a deer's silhouette comes next to the other silhouettes. The one with deer horns grabs it by the head and snaps its neck. It throws the deer to Khan's legs. Khan tells us to bow down and repeat after him. We do it.

The silhouettes disappear and the fog starts to clear up. We find our campsite a few hundred meters away. Con takes the deer and ride it with him. We come back to the station. Andrew and Vlad are discussing what to say in their report. Con tells them to write out the report as if everything was normal, but they recommended him for higher in the field. So that's what they do, and Khan works and lives over there from now on. And all right, guys, that wraps up some unsettling 4chance stories.

I hope you enjoyed this video. I loved all the stories in this. I really, really enjoy the 4chan stories. You know, it's just refreshing from the Reddit ones. I really like them. Comment down below if you enjoy them as well. And if you do, yeah, just comment. and I can see if you guys want more or something different.

Or if you have any video ideas, make sure you comment that. And if you watch at the end, thank you so much. You're the best. And yeah, thank you so much. Like and subscribe if you haven't already. Helps on the channel a ton. And yeah, check out some other videos of mine. They're all great.

So I'm sure you will enjoy them. And yeah, that wraps up some unsettling 4th and stories. Thank you so much for watching. This is Snook and I'll see you next time. Bye.