Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - Terrifying Encounters Strange Creatures and Hidden Threats in the Wilderness #19

Episode Date: September 30, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales #paranormalencounters #creepyexperiences #wildhorrorstories #nightmarefuel #unexplainednature  Terrifying Encounters recounts true stories of strange creatures and hidden dangers lurking in the wilderness. From unexplained sightings and eerie sounds to perilous close calls, these accounts immerse readers in suspense and fear. Each story emphasizes the unpredictable and often terrifying side of nature, showing that the wild can hold secrets far more sinister than imagined.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales, paranormalencounters, creepyexperiences, wildhorrorstories, nightmarefuel, unexplainednature, scaryencounters, chillingtales, unsettlingmoments, realnightmares, disturbingstories, mysteriouscreatures, survivalstories, naturehorrorstories, truestoryhorror

There's so much rugby on Sports Exter from Sky. They've asked me to read the whole lad at the same speed I usually use for the legal bit at the end. Here goes. This winter Sports Extra is jam-packed with rugby. For the first time we've got every Champions Cup match exclusively live, plus action from the URC, the Challenge Cup, and much more. Thus the URC and all the best European rugby all in the same place.

Get more exclusively live tournaments than ever before on Sports Extra. Jampack with rugby. Phew, that is a lot of rugby. Get Sports Extra on Sky for 15 euro a month for 12 months. Search Sports Extra. New Sports Extra customers only. Standard Pressing applies after 12 months for the terms apply. Collini, did you know if your age between 25 and 65?

Well, you can get a free HPV cervical check. It's one of the best ways to protect yourself from cervical cancer. And you know what? I actually checked only recently when mine was due and no exaggeration. It took me less than five minutes. You go online to hse.com. But in your PPS number, check in the date of birth. And then they tell you when your next appointment is due.

Oh my God. I know. I know. And you can check you on the register on the website so you can phone [phone]. If your test is due today, you can book today or hscccccc. i.e. 4 slash cervical check. I still remember that morning like it's branded into my brain, though some parts feel like

they've been smudged over time. The thing I saw, whatever it was, had these two antler-like shapes poking out from one end of its body. I'm saying antlers here, but honestly, they weren't neat or symmetrical like a deer's. They were twisted, crooked, and just, wrong. That end of the body is what I assumed was the front, though with creatures like that. who even knows which side is which. That's about as much detail as I can picture clearly now, but what happened next has been haunting me for years. I remember getting up from the camp chair I'd been sitting in, lowering the binoculars from my eyes, and seeing this thing glide toward a blue tent we'd spotted earlier. It moved without a shred of hesitation, like it knew exactly what it was

going to do and had probably done it before. It reached the tent, positioned itself in this strange stands with its two front legs, and then, without a sound, skewered the tent right between them. The fabric split apart like it was nothing, and the thing yanked out a human figure from inside. I froze. I was so stunned I didn't even think to bring the binoculars back up to my eyes. I just stood there, watching from a distance, trying to convince myself that what I was seeing couldn't possibly be real. The person it dragged out had dark skin and was wearing a shirt that looked gray or maybe a dull, dark green, it's hard to remember exact colors through a haze of shock. Then there was this sudden splash of bright red against the blue tent fabric. That was when

my brain finally caught up with the horror in front of me. I dropped the binoculars like they were burning my hands and stumbled back a couple of steps. My chest tightened, my pulse was roaring in my ears, and for the first time, real fear sank in, like, this thing could kill me next, fear. I don't remember making a sound. I don't even remember hearing the tent rip open, even though I must have. All I recall is the creature lifting one of its front legs and neatly impaling the person on one of its twisted horns. Then, without so much as a pause, it turned and slid back into the trees as though melting into the forest. That was my cue to move. I spun around and bolted back toward my tent.

At one point I tripped, went face-first into the dirt, and scraped my chin so hard it stung for days afterward. I scrambled back up, heart pounding, and practically dove into my tent, pulling the blankets over me like they were some kind of magical shield. At some point, the pressure in my bladder became unbearable. I couldn't bring myself to leave the tent. I was convinced that if I unzipped that flap, the thing would be standing right there, waiting.

So I stayed put. And yeah. I ended up wetting myself. I have no idea how long I stayed there, only that by the time I heard my parents moving around the campsite, the sun was much higher in the sky. I wanted to yell to them to hide, to stay in their tent, but I couldn't force the words out.

Eventually, my mom came over and unzipped my tent. The first thing she did was wrinkle her nose and ask if I'd wet my sleeping bag. I guess the smell gave me away immediately. Then she looked at my face and froze. I must have looked pale and wide-eyed enough for her to realize something was seriously wrong, because she gently asked if I'd been sleepwalking or had a nightmare. She noticed the scrape on my chin, helped me out of the tent,

and kept giving me these concerned glances. I was still scanning the treeline in every direction, bracing for that thing to burst out at any moment. My dad asked me why I hadn't put the spare binoculars back in the case, but when he got a good look at me, his voice changed instantly. He came over, put a hand on my shoulder, and asked what was wrong. The only words I could manage were, I had a nightmare. I wanted to believe it myself. But when I glanced toward the distance and saw the bright blue tent, torn open and fluttering

in the breeze, I knew I hadn't been dreaming. My parents decided to cut the trip short. We packed up and left. I don't even remember the drive home or what I told them after. That part of the memory is just, gone. But the image of that torn blue tent, abandoned forever empty, has never left me. Years later, I buried that memory so deep I almost convinced myself it wasn't real, until I saw some dumb internet prank that featured a creature that looked eerily similar. Suddenly, everything came flooding back like it had been waiting just below the surface.

Now, I'm considering hypnotherapy to dig deeper into that morning, to find the pieces I've forgotten. I can't ask my parents about it, my mom has passed away, and my dad, well, Alzheimer's has taken most of him. Most days he doesn't even remember my name. I never found any missing person reports for that forest during that time. Nothing that lined up with what I saw. But I know what I saw. I don't understand it, but I know it happened.

I'm not writing this to spook you or for some cheap thrill. I'm writing because there are things out there. There's so much rugby on Sports Exter from Sky. They've asked me to read the whole lad at the same speed I usually use for the legal bit at the end. Here goes. This winter sports extra is jam-packed with rugby. For the first time, we've been every Champions Cup match exclusively live,

plus action from the URC, the Challenge Cup, and much more. Thus the U.S.C and all the best European Rugby all in the same place. Get more exclusively live tournaments than ever before on Sports Extra. I'm packed with rugby. Phew, that is a lot of rugby. Get Sports Extra on Sky for 15 euro a month for 12 months. Search Sports Extra. New Sports Extra customers only.

Standard Extra applies after 12 months, further terms apply. Dangerous things that can take you when you least expect it. People vanish from national forests far too often for me to just chalk it up to bad luck. Every day, I jot down anything I can remember about the creature, hoping to trigger more details so I can face my fear instead of running from it. For now, I've given it a name, the unknown. Now, fast forward several years from that camping trip nightmare. I'd tucked the memory away, but it was still there, buried like some ugly relic in the back of my mind. Life moved on, but the woods never stopped feeling, different to me.

Like every forest had something just behind the trees, watching. Then came the summer of 2007, and I was back in rural North Carolina, visiting my dad. He lived in a double-wide trailer out in Veal. The place sat on 20 acres of open land, ringed with patches of dense forest. The kind of setting people think is peaceful and quiet, but where silence can sometimes feel like a warning instead of comfort. The land and trailer were fully paid off, so my dad didn't owe a dime to anybody. He was one of those guys who could live entirely debt-free and be perfectly happy without cable

TV or anything fancy. I was 12 years old at the time, restless, curious, and almost always outside. I'd roam the fields, climb trees, and sometimes pretend I was in my own private kingdom, battling invisible enemies with a stick-turned sword. On one particular day, the weather was perfect, bright sky, hardly a cloud in sight, the air warm but not suffocating. I was behind the trailer in full imaginary adventure mode, swinging my stick like I was dueling pirates, probably making enough noise to scare away real wildlife for miles. My dad's pit bull,

China, was out there too. She was attached to a runner line that let her roam the backyard. Normally, she'd pace around, sniffing and watching me with mild interest. But that day, she was lounging under the back porch in the shade. Everything was normal, until it wasn't. I heard my neighbor's German Shepherd go absolutely berserk. Not the usual, bark at a squirrel, type of ruckus. This was deeper, more frantic, almost like the dog was throwing down a challenge. I stopped mid-swing and looked toward the dirt road, up the winding driveway to where the shepherd was bouncing around behind its fence, teeth bared, barking so hard it sounded hoarse.

I glanced at China. She'd stood up and stepped out from under the porch, staring toward the trees off to my left. No barking, no whining, just locked on something. That silence from her somehow made it worse. I turned my head in the direction she was looking. At first, I expected to see a coyote or maybe even a bear. But instead, I noticed a patch of shadow that didn't belong. The rest of the tree shadows swayed in the breeze, but this one stayed perfectly still. Then I saw it. The thing was massive, broad-shouldered, built like a linebacker, and at least six or seven feet tall. Its fur was jet black, smooth and shiny in the sunlight. It stood slightly hunched, like it was ready to lunge forward at any second.

And then my eyes caught its hand. It was gripping the side of a tree, claws flexing like it was testing them. The fingers were thick and strong, ending in points that could probably shred through wood. That's when it let out a low, rumbling growl. Our eyes met. For a moment, my brain tried to make sense of it, maybe a man in a costume. Maybe someone carrying a large dog. But no. That long snout, the sharp teeth in twin rose, and those burning yellow eyes, those weren't a mask.

That was its face. It was less than 12 yards away. I bolted. I tore around the trailer toward the back door, grabbed the knob, and slammed my shoulder into it. Locked. My panic spiked. I dove under the porch where China had been earlier, crawling as far back into the shadows as I could. China followed me, staying pressed close to my side. Every so often she'd let out a low, warning growled toward the trees. I don't know how long we stayed there. Time didn't feel real, it was just me, my dog, and the sound of my own heartbeat.

Eventually, the sunlight faded into that soft gold of late afternoon, and then into dusk. When it was nearly dark, I finally crawled out, sprinted around to the front of the house, got inside, and locked the door behind me. Almost immediately, the panic I'd been holding back came crashing over me. My breathing went fast and shallow, my hands shook, and I couldn't stop thinking about how close it had been. And then I remembered, China was still outside on the runner line. I should have gone out the back door, unhooked her, and brought her in. But the thought of stepping back into that backyard made my stomach turn. I pounded on my dad's bedroom door and told him I'd seen something

out there. He just mumbled through the door that China would be fine. I barely slept. I kept listening for her bark, for anything that would tell me she was okay, or that the thing was back. But the night stayed eerily quiet. The next morning, my dad woke me up and took me outside. Across the property, near the far tree lean, the chicken coop had been ripped open. Every single hen was dead. Two of his goats, tied up nearby, were torn apart. China was fine, sitting under the porch again. My dad checked her teeth, no blood, no feathers. He even went to check the neighbor's German Shepherd. Same thing. No sign that either dog had done it. I told him exactly what I'd seen, but he brushed it off, saying it must have been a pack of coyotes. And just like that,

the conversation was over. From that night on, China became an indoor dog. I begged him to keep her inside with me, convinced she'd saved my life somehow. Years later, I'm still convinced of what I saw. And I've learned something important, skepticism is fine, but you should never ignore your gut, especially when it's telling you that your life might be on the line. The end.