Today I'm here on a very specific mission. I have some questions on the location on pic related. All my research has fallen short, as I cannot find the exact cabin. I would like any help in finding E Zed, the OP of the story. He said he would answer questions over email, but I cannot find it! He didn't leave it in the original thread either. I know the post will be 2 years old as of the 22nd, but any help would be helpful.
Also lets get a good ol skinwalker type thread going.
I'll add some screencaps I have saved as we go, but please contribute! Especially if you have some OC or info on the Ruby Valley.
also heres the thread:
Another Ruby Valley story
Seems to be the same creature in another part of Nevada
Going to dump my entire collection. I think I have most of the major ones. Anyways, that first one was 1/28
Also OP, can't help you with E Zed, never read that one. Will give it a read after the dump, and will attempt to help whenever I can. Skinwalkers are fascinating and enjoyable reads.
Finally: I recommend watching the Fear itself episode "Skin & Bones", the first time I've seen /x/-tier skinwalkers on TV. Will post a link next post.
thanks for helping start this up, I have a bunch but they are unorganized. I'll just dump as I post.
Thanks though, I will defiantly check that out...
Here's the episode:
Anyone have any other good Goatmen/Skinwalker/Wendigo media? Looking for cool artwork, stories, movies, etc.
Also posting under this trip now.
Awesomesauce. If this thread doesn't get archived after the dual-dump, I'll look into finding a place to post all of the stories or something. Not sure if they're in the pin.
7/28, sorry for not keeping count.
Food for thought: Perhaps classical Wendigos are, in actually, just men stricken with Cabin Fever or something similar? Does anyone have any information on this subject?
Three-Part extravaganza coming next.
One of the classics incoming.
The absolute classic Skinwalker story incoming.
That's a wrap.
I have one more story, a shite one I wrote last year, but I never posted it. Guess I'll greentext it in a few.
What I tell you all in these next few posts have only recently been allowed to be spoken about publically, thanks to the many leaks and coverups by companies like
Monsanto, and the government of the United States of America itself. What I tell you all in these next few posts is to be taken as heresay and word-of-mouth, as it is
my retelling of the experience of a coworker I used to know who was involved with chemical and GMO companies as a Bio-Chemist and all-around Biology nutcase. What I tell
you all in these next few posts are from his perspective to the best of my recollection. Enjoy.
From the words of Mr. Raymond) I had awoken one morning to the sound of my pager rattling off atop my nightstand- work, as usual. Though, odd, it was 4:37 AM on a Sunday.
My first reaction was anger, then sadness, but after buttoning up my emotions and suiting up myself for the oh-so-lovely place of chemical cookings, I strolled off to
my car and headed through town to work. Upon pulling through the gate and booth, I was stopped at my parking space by a man in a deep black suit and sunglasses. "I am sorry to bother you, sir,
but you are needed in Bay C8 today. Please direct yourself there immediately and enter the black van." I easily complied, as we've tossed around government/CIA ghost stories here before, none
of them ended well when the person being told what to do questions the authority feeding the information. I drove to the location he told me, parked, unloaded my gear, and strayed around, looking
for his supossed black van. When I finally came across it, another man in a suit, who told me to suit and gear up with the supplies to the right of me. Complying again, I went to the locker room
for Bay C and got ready.
No one was around, and not a single sound was to be heard. After this, it really started to kick in that something was eerily wrong today. Something didn't smell right
with this atmosphere, and as I multitasked getting ready, combing my hair, and thinking about dem' life struggles, I slipped on a stagnant puddle of water and hit my nose on the edge of the sink.
The taste of bloodied-copper entered the back of my throat almost immediately, but before even that hit, I had already jammed tissue into my nostrils- time was the essence, of course. After talking
a few extra minutes to ensure the bleeding had subsided, and I looked decent enough to roll out, I left the locker room and started heading back to the black van...though, it was now parked right next
to the door. No one was in the driver seat, and I could hear whispers from the back. I hopped in, and inside were two of my coworkers: Matthias and Jerome. "Raymond, what the fuck is going on man?!", I
could only shrug my shoulders at Jerome and tell him that it was business as usual. We then heard the doors lock, and the engine start up. There were no windows in the back cab, only a bench on each
side, a rack of supplies, and a radio. The car started moving, and accelerated extremely fast out of the garage. It was then that I start jotting down the directions we were headed in, the time in-between
turns, and all of that other jargon. If we were to be sand-bagged and left for dead in the middle of Elko, Nevada, I'd at least like to leave a few bread crumbs to crawl my way home with.
After what seemed like hours of driving, listening to Jerome bitch and moan, and Matthias sharpen his pocket knife, we came to a stop along uneven/hilly ground. We were in the middle of the fucking
We heard a coughing noise from the front compartment, then the driver-side door opening, and then a banging on the wall. "Listen up, all three of you: You're upstate now, in the Adirondacks. There's a little
town about 12 miles from here, just due south-east. A lot of crazy locals have been reported to have gone down with a specific illness and croaked. We want you to investigate this designated site for a week.
I'll be back to pick you up at 0800 next Monday. Record every thought you have, and everything out-of-place thing you find around here. You are not permitted to use lanterns outside of your tents at night,
and you are not permitted to leave this square mile property, expecially do not head north. If you leave this property, you're on your own- whatever you see and whatever happens is on you. Am I clear, Matthias, Jerome, and Raymond?"
We all yelled out in agreement as the doors unlocked. We grabbed our gear, exchanged faces of confusion and remarks about the situation,
and promptly left the vehicle, only to find that our driver was now gone, as though he had just vanished. There was a metal government sign at the edge of a trail stating "Site 1/2 mile down trail". We started lugging
ourselves down, and as we came across our setup of three large dome-tents, a patio table, and ominous barbed perimeter, I came to the realization I forgot my phone on-board...as did they, strangely.
I told them I would
go retrieve them on my own, and they would get everything ready, and go over whatever vague orders we were given. Upon returning to the beginning of the trail, I saw that there was no truck, nor tracks, nor road leading away.
Only a clearing, enclosed by the woods. Something was terribly off about this whole situation, and I could already smell the fear resenating off of me. I headed back in a sort-of fastwalk, and about halfway down the trail,
the hair on the back of my neck stood on-end and a rush of nopes flew down my spinal chord as I started feeling like I was being stalked. Every time I would stop walking, I could hear a crunch of leaves in the forest,
and whenever I looked around to listen, there was not a single bird to be heard chirping, or a cicada to be buzzing. I booked it back to camp, and as I cleared through the brush, I saw a military Humvee parked outside
of our disturbing retreat. Now shit was serious; Sergeant Shitface and his private Corporal Fuckhead were sent out here with the same deal as us: Vague information, locals acting up, and a gas drop next Monday at 0800.
They were sent here as bodyguards, for the most part, but were just as wacked out as we were. If only then I knew what we were all getting ourselves into.
Fuck, it's spacing it oddly. Will try and remedy.
[(Tuesday) Day 1 - Recon]
I awoke to the fragrance of butter on flapjacks cooking in the dewey morning, and as I exited my tent I was greeted by both officers cooking breakfast for all of us (I forgot to mention, their names were Dan and Marco). I woke the other two bumbling recluses up from their slumber, and we all feasted on the glorious bodies of pancake-y goodness. Sadly, we had no syrup or blueberries, but the many Iraq stories Marco told us were more than enough to fill in the missing pieces of Breakfast. After we finished our meal, we started planning out the week: Today, me, Marco, and Dan would survey the land in the Humvee, and the other two would start collecting samples
on a checklist packed into their bags. Tomorrow, Marco and Jerome would head West to collect samples, Dan and Mathias would head East to collect those samples, and I would get to sleep in/hold the fort while I waited for them to come back. We really didn't think past at the moment before the two NRA-bugs got eager to head out and start questin'. As we head out, Marco stuck on a spanish radio station to lighten the mood, and he started cracking jokes about how all of this
could've been new Aragon if the English had stopped being such faggots to the Spanish Armada. As we were driving along, we paid good attention to the layout of the land. As we headed north, I reminded them not to go too far, though their commanding officer had warned them about it as well, so there was no fear of crossing the line. We did end up driving all the way to the edge of our territory, which was marked by a mile-long barb-wire fence, the same as the one back at camp.
I pulled out a telescope, and we started looking out at the forbidden land. At the horizon was an old concrete structure, half of it had fallen into rubble, and some of it look charred. Too sad that we couldn't go questin' innit, though, what I thought at the time. We surveyed the rest of the land in our patch of land, and headed back to HQ to have supper and shoot the shit over a roaring flame. As we exchanged stories and ate, I felt that same feeling that I did on the path the previous day. Our tents were huge, so I told (mostly out of my own fear) that the gunnuts could bunk with us, instead of their shitty backseat. Matthias refused to let anyone in his palace of leaf-worship, so Jerome let Marco use the right side of his tent, and I let Dan use the left side of mine. I turned my lanterns on outside so I could find my way to the shitter, incase I had an anal evacuation at 4 AM or something. As I started to fall asleep, I heard a familiar crunching of leaves, and the silhouette of a convulsing man limply holding an axe appeared on the side of my tent. I nearly shrieked like a little girl, but Dan was apparently awake to, and had put his hand over my mouth to shut me up. He grabbed his handgun and a combat knife, then knocked on a piece of wood (Morse code?) to communicate with Marco, who was apparently also awake. The figure paid no mind to the knocking, and kept strolling around the dying fire, sniffing out everything he could find.
After a while of knocking, Dan handed me the gun and told me to hold up in here while him and Danny went out to deal with out guest, but before they could get out there, Mathias had already donned his warcry and flew out of his tent with a katana at the man. All of us ended up leaping outside to see the events unfold, and there we saw a horrified Mathias literally pissing his pants in fear at the man near the fire. It was an old gent, like a chubby farmer/santa claus-type, only his beard was completely burgundy with dried blood, and his left cheek was missing. He started cunvulsing and roaring like a gorilla at us, then he charged at Dan. Before he sliced Dan's head open like a Cantaloupe, I shot him in the chest...this proved to do absolutely nothing, as his locomotion was greater than that of a moving freight train at this point. He lunged onto Dan, into the side of my tent, completely collapsing the shit out of it. Marco was on his ass within 5 milliseconds, stabbing the old fucker over and over again, then pulling him off to recover the now shellshocked Dan. The old fuck was down for the count, and we were all on edge as the howling of animals went on in the background as the sun rose in the distance.
[(Wednesday) Day 2 - Investigation]
Whence the sun was risen and the dew had settled, we went to work doing what freaked out government workers do best: Dissecting the fuck out of the crazy, and reporting the casualty to command. They told us this was what we were sent out here for, and that everything due north of us was quarantined. It made sense now, this fucker was stalking me along the path, and was causing all of those nopes through the night. Matthias and Dan stayed behind to collect data on the man, while me, Marco, and Jerome would go about our schedule collecting data from the East. We headed out in the Humvee, and Jerome, like the jackass he is, climbed up on the disabled turret and started gunning down imaginary Nazis and Wendigos. We stopped at a clearing we had marked he day before, and started setting up a perimeter of barb-wire, as well as our analyizing and collection equipment. We suited up in some good ol' hazmat and got to work. I started off digging up soil samples and collecting the leaves of Fraxinus Nigra and Fraxinus Americana, whenever I could find nice-enough samples of them. Everything sort of felt...rough, though; the textures on the leaves were off, the soil felt crystaline, and Marco even said the air was a tad dry. After a few hours, and several pounds of samples, we headed back to HQ with our findings, for further examination and documentation. Strange enough they gave us vague information on collecting naturally-occurring species, stranger though was the fact that none of it seemed mutated in the least bit. Where was the problem up here?
Were we one of many teams, investigating every aspect of the area? Once we returned, they had already gutted the man, ID'd him as a local, and determined he had come down with Influenza- of course. Either this was some wabby-stabby, take-control-of-your-brain type of Influenza, or I was on a need-to-know basis now. Trust was dismal, but thankfully Dan pulled me aside feeling the same way about Marco; Marco was his Senior officer, apparently. Anyhow, I started to feel a partnership form between us, and we decided to stick together now- no knifes in the back for us. We all sat down for lunch, and devoured a fantastic meal of MREs and Instant Orange-juice. Delicious, right? As was now our custom, we started planning out the next few days after we has finished eating. While we were gone, Dan and Matthias had received word from command that we were to head into town tomorrow, to collect samples there, and to talk to a few specific people that had either come down with the illness, or knew someone who did. We were to take the samples back to HQ, as usual, and scan them through. After Lunch, Marco, Matthias, and Jerome headed out West to get that bullshit done, while me and Dan stayed behind to finish up the sampling from the East, and to bullshit as usual.
We talked about a few things- life, home, Obamadrones. But eventually, we ended up talking about the quarantined North- just what the fuck happened? What was that concrete structure? I could feel some questin' going on, but he said it was too risky for a 23 year-old psuedo-biologist to go lurking around a (probably) abandoned structure in the middle of an active illness zone. He wasn't much better though, he was only a year older than me, fresh out of DerkaDerkastan. But I took his advice, and went back to my work. Before I could really dig in, though, he grabbed my shoulder, told me to get down, behind our sampling tables. We both got down, and then the smell hit: It was like someone had stuck fresh roadkill
in a blender, and dumped it all over their body, with a hint of tang and metal somewhere in there.
Dan looked over the table to see where 'it' was at, currently on the other side of our barb, thankfully, though it looked like it was tearing itself up trying to get in- un-thankfully. Dan came back down and told me to keep quiet, and that he would go over there and down the fucker. He lifted his head up again to make sure it hadn't gone across...and it was gone. He came back down, said it must've scampered off, though we should still stay alert. We got up, fixed the perimeter, and radio'd Marco & co. to get their asses back here as quickly as possible...which is about where shit hit the fan. As I set the radio down, the smell came back, and a large, unhuman howling sprang from the woods around us. After that, there was almost a stampede of wildlife rushing out of the wood, and down the path towards town. Foxes, rabbits, squirrels, deer, bears- all just charging up the path in fear of what was coming. We were literally shitting our pants by this point, as wild animals probably were too. Once the stampede subsided, all you could hear were the wretching screams of mindless people, and the smell of shit and blood all over them. There were at least four trying to break through the perimeter, and Dan was doming them all off one-by-one.
It seemed like more and more just kept coming, though. By a minute-in, Dan had downed about eight of them, while another dozen were still trying to break in. Out of nowhere, Marco & Co. rolled up in the Humvee and helped Dan take the rest out. After this entire ordeal, we were definitely fucking done with this shit. We grabbed a few things, ran up to Marco, and pretty much said "We're fucking done, let's nope the hell out of here", to which he replied "We have no gas left buds. We're supposed to wait till Monday for a gas-drop...we're pretty much stuck out here". My heart sank into the deepest crevice of my chest, I was saying to myself "All hope is fucking lost". They all just started laughing at me, though, like I was nuts. "You're scared of this shit bud? It's just a bunch of slow-moving crazies trying to gnab at your innards! You were never sent on one of these details, eh?". Me and Dan weren't laughing, were we the only sane fucks left up here? "Fine, we'll clean it all up for you then, puss-in-boots". I fliped them the bird and went into my tent for the night, no way in hell am I continuing this day any longer.
[(Thursday) Day 3 - Suspicion]
Sometime in that night, Dan must've come in, because when I woke up he was snoring away a few feet away from me. I got up and outside, no glorious pancakes today. In fact, everyone was gone. Even better, the entire HQ was neat and orderly- like yesterday had never happened.
The Humvee was where it was the previous morning, everything seemed exactly the same. I looked in everyone's tents- no one. Then, I noticed a paper on the table. Scrawled on it (Most likely Marco's writing) was a message detailing how they're walking South, down the path to collect those samples, and once they get back, we're all heading to town, some 12-13 miles away. I woke Dan up, and his reaction to camp was no different than mine. We decided we could no longer trust the others whatsoever, and we would stick close on the way to town later on. He handed me his knife and told me to hold onto it, telling me I had to learn to defend myself sometime or another. After about an hour, and some breakfast, the others returned with a literal knapsack of random shit- none of it even on the list (I swear, there must've been at
least three decapitated rabbits in there, probably a lot more nopes I'd never want to see). Jerome seemed a tad jittery, like he had an itch all over or something. Matthias acted as he usually does- silent, fucking with his knife, and Marco wasn't cheery at all. In fact, he was sort of an asshole today. Did the crazy-ass bullshit from yesterday finally hit him? I had almost forgot any of that happened, what with the camp spick-and-span and all. We all then headed off, down the path, towards the lovely town where these fucks are spawning from.
Joyful, to say the least.
Your story is well written. Did some google search of a random section of text to see if it was copied and got pic related lol.
Also did you post it before? found it on 4plebs
Along the way, I tried talking to Jerome, but whenever I said anything, he would just laugh, and thrust he chest of like he was heaving or some shit. After a while, Dan just grabbed my shoulder, looked at me and shook his head. We came across an old,
downed bridge going over a little creek. Me, Matthias, and Dan just hopped across, but when Marco and Jerome tried doing it...they just fell flat on their ass in the middle of the water, and then they started fucking screaming at each other. Matthias hopped down there, helped them both up, and got them up our side of the bank. It finally hit me that those two are most likely infected now, and I'm sure Dan and Matthias knew too.
Marco and Jerome kept grunting and laughing at each other in that heaving motion along the way until we finally reached town. It as pretty quaint,
had a classic Main street, old Victorian houses, and a river running through it. It was bustling with people going shop-to-shop, jogging, or heading off to work, as any town would have. As we walked down the street towards a home on the other side of town we were supossed to visit, I noticed many of the shops were blacked out and closed, some were even borded up. The house we had to go to apparently had three occupants: An elderly couple, and their son. The mother has apparently come down with the illness, and the father had reported it in. Me and Matthias were the ones to walk in and get information, Dan would go to another residence nearby, and the Marco/Jerome duo just sort of wandered off.
Thanks anon. I may have, I thought that I didn't. Either way, I have a screencap, so I'll be doing that so I never have to ctrl+c/v this bitch every again.
We knocked, showed our badges, and were let in to discuss the situation and take samples. Nothing in our contract forbid us from speaking of our experiences, so we pretty much told the old man he should get the fuck out of dodge before shit hits the fan. After that, we examined his sleeping wife- her skin was very dry, almost cracked in some places, along with the heaving associated with this illness that we've observed. We took a few hair and saliva samples, left the old man to dues, and wished him good luck. Before we could leave, though, he asked us "Don't you want to check on my son too?" as he pointed to his basment door. Matthias and I definitely got a taste of the nopes from this, but we would go see their son as well. I told Matt I'd go check on him, as I had the weapon, and he should stay up here, in case a Deliverance parody occurs or something.
I walked down the steps, and say his obese son just laying on the ground- he wasn't breathing. His computer was still on, and was open to WebMD, so now we know he was sick too, and now most-likely dead. Well, I guess I say most-likely too soon, because as soon as I started heading up the steps, he sprang up and gurgled some incoherent warcry at me, and then proceeded to wobble in my general direction. By this point, I was immune to being frightened by these fucks, and promptly kept walking up the steps and out the basement door, locking it behind me. "Sir, your son is infected, and is officially nutzo. I suggest you vacate your house immediately and head somewhere safe, your family is braindead and flesh-hungry." He actually took what I said to heart, and got the fuck out of dodge before I could say anything else. Smart old fuck. We got the fuck out of there, locked the windows/doors, and radio'd Dan about the situation. He then promptly told us to walk a few blocks over to him, and to take a look at the lovely scene he came across. We find him sitting on a bench, sipping on Cherry Coke and laughing his ass off. He points forward, and there we see Marco and Jerome standing bo-legged, clawing at pigeons, sort of like the dude from Shaun of The Dead. Matt yelled out "You guys coming with us back to HQ, or are the Pigeons going to give you a ride? My sides were fucking gone at the scene before me, but before I could soak it in and feel good for once, Dan had sprang up and started breathing heavily. I couldn't even ask him what the fuck was wrong before he grabbed me and Matt and started sprinting out of town.
We didn't stop moving until we got back to HQ, I felt like falling over and dying from exhaustion. Dan then tells us hat he say while we were rolling on the ground laughing: Marco had apparently ripped into Jerome's torso and starting pulling out his innards like goddamn confetti. Matt ran behind a tent and threw up,
I felt feverish and sweaty, but nowhere near as bad as Matt apparently. "All of you need to calm the fuck down and realize this is what we sent you out here for", the radio buzzed. "Continue the fucking mission, or else El Chapo and Senor Ortega down in Juarez can deal with you." We all stood up, a little bit less frightened,
but still fucked in the head after what's been happening. We decided to fortify the camp as best we could while we finished analyzing all of the samples. Dan and Matt Pushed the Humvee in front of the gate, with the front facing outwards. We gathered some logs to reinforce the barbed walls, and created a series of snares and traps around the surrounding area.
Dan fashioned a few torches as night fell, Matt made the fire, and I set up the Lanterns. We weren't sleeping in the fucking dark with these fuckers roaming around, marauding for some flesh to feast on. We also took the turret off of the Humvee, and set it up on a small mound between our tents for maximum range and coverage over the cleared area. Dan gave both of us a rifle and ammo supply, and showed us how to operate and clean one. We then took down our tents, and put them back up so they were backed to eachother, in case one of us had problems in the night. Dan also showed us how to SOS through morse code, just in case. We ate dinner, and quietly proceeded to bed. Dan said he'd stay on watch duty through the night, he figured he would sleep during the day while we continue our sample work. During the night, I was awoken by the sound of my tent flap unzipping, and Dan laying down for some sleep. I didn't blame him, and I felt safe enough with the new barriers outside.I thought earlier that he was doing a little bit too much for us anyways. Then, a while later, I thought I heard Dan coughing, like he had lung cancer or some shit. My first thought was "Was he smoking?", but before I could really put much thought into it, I said "Fuck it" and went back to sleep. Oh god, how naive I was.
[(Friday) Day 4 - Fortification (1/2)]
I woke up the next day- and again, no pancakes could be seen or smelled. I turned over, and saw Dan bundled up in a shitton of blankets, was it really that cold during the night? Anyways, I walked out of the tent, stretched, and promptly took my morning piss in some bushes off to the right of camp. When I walked back into HQ, I saw that Dan was still sitting in his chair (asleep), with his rifle next to him. Then I looked inside of my tent, and saw him laying in there. I zipped up the tent flap, and woke Dan the fuck up to tell him the situation. First he asked me if I got into his stash, but I guess when I replied with "You have a stash?" a sort of trigger clicked in his head, as he unleashed a salvo on my tent under five seconds later, killing whatever was fucking inside. The shrieks started again, coming from inside the tent, as well as the smell that we'd already grown used to. What came out of the tent could only be summarized like this: a bloody fucking mess. You could faintly tell it was Marko in there, but so much was...well, missing, or deformed, that you could hardly tell it used to be him. As it slithered out of the side of the tent, what seemed like rubber was being left behind by it, and before more shots could be fired, it was already in the deep woods. After noping out, we inspected the rubber-like skin, and the bloody chunks of fuck left inside of the tent.
The skin looked exactly like Dan, and fell apart at the touch, the bloody chunks were dissolving extrodinarily fast as well. I still can't believe the fucking thing slept next to me that entire night.
We all tried to calm down and plan our next move, which involved Dan and Matt heading North for the rest of our samples,
and me holding down camp, and finishing the sampling. I agreed, and they headed off. I sat down, and was sort-of on edge, for fear that a bloody mass of shit would ambush me and try to steal my fucking butter.
After breakfast, I continued research on our samples. Jerome and Matt had done a terrible job- most of it was fucking ruined. I started on a few samples that hadn't been touched yet, and immediately after examining it I noticed that texture again, like I had the first day we collected this shit. Upon closer examination and testing, it appeared to be a filmy residue crawling with bacteria and microbes. I examined many of the other samples, and even our dissected man-friend from a few days prior, and all of them were coated with this shit.
I went to my tent and collected some of the dissolved matter from the Marcomess, and even it was full of this crap. Well, we now knew what was causing all of the problems around here- a fucking bacteria. I poked around the man's body some more, and found that most of his brain had rotted away. There, in that rotted husk of bio-computerness was the highest concentration of the shit throughout his entire body. The Bacteria was literally eating away at his brain, leaving only a few sections, such as the Brain Stem. "So they're fucking zombays?" I said outloud to myself. "No, there's no fucking way. That's too cliche and predictable for something like this", and just as I said that, Dan came running over the clearing at the camp, screaming his bloody lungs off. "Where the fuck is Matt?!" "He fucking tried to corner me in the middle of fucking nowhere Ray!". I helped him into camp, and tried to settle him down. Basically what happened, was Matt went off to do some business, and when he came back, he started giving Dan one of those thousand-yard stares, then started convulsing like his fucking gut was choking on a brick. After a little while of settling down, we then heard another scream come from beyond the clearing: Matt's. He came running just as Dan has, and once he got him settled down, he told us Dan had followed him, and starting mumbling random phrases to him, in a sort of demonic voice.
"Well you guys met your fucking dopplegangers, and I discovered fucking
bacteria all over the area, and I think it's what's causing all of this!". They seemed more interesting in gutting whatever fucked with them, though, it seemed. "Did you guys even get any samples??" "Of course we didn't, we got spooked the fuck out by some shapeshifting faggots!". We continued to argue for most of the day, then finally we went over my findings and we all came to the same consensus: Bactera be niggin' up in dese woods. After this, we started to feel much better about the situation, until we were reminded that a giant mass of bloody flesh was slithering around in the woods, something bactera probably couldn't make a human body do. Matt took night watch this time, and me and Dan headed to bed in Matt's tent, a tad earlier than usual.
[(Saturday) Day 5 - Ghosts]
I awoke in the morning to find that Dan has already started cooking breakfast, and Matt had been inside of my (his) tent, picking up a few things. "Sorry to wake you, just gathering some shit up for the hike today". "Hike?", I replied, "Yeah...we went over it last night, it was your idea Ray. We're hiking back to town to hopefully have somewhere safe to hide until Monday". "I don't remember talking about any of this. I just remember us bitching, and then you sat out on watch all night as me and Dan went to bed early". "Ray, you stood watch. You came into my tent this morning, and told Dan to finish up the shift, and then you got some sleep, which reminds me: See anything hilarious last night?". I was closing in on the deep edge now: There was a snake-like mass of organs and military garb slithering through the woods, looking for me at this very moment, a strain of bacteria infecting and killing people overnight (which somehow hasn't affected either me, Dan, or Matt?), and now I was apparently losing my mind? "Matt, I think I'm going loco. I don't remember anyth-" Dan walked in and cut me off
"Breakfast's ready, morning sleeping beauty!".
As Dan exited the tent, he gave me a blank stare, then pointed at Matt. Goddammit, was he gone too? Me and Matt proceeded to exit the tent, eat breakfast, and prepare ourselves for another long hike to town, god-know's-why. Before we left, Dan pulled me to the side and asked me if Matt said that I was outside keeping watch last night. I told him what he said to me, and we then decided to confront him about it. "Are you both nuts? Ray was outside last night, and so were you. He came in as dawn was coming,
kicked me out of the tent, and promptly fell asleep in my fucking space". We didn't want to argue, and I felt like Dan knew more than me anyhow, so I trusted his judgement, and we set off again.
We pretty much take the same path as before, and as we close in on creek with the downed bridge, me and Dan give each other a look, and we both proceed to watch Matt as he crosses the creek. Once he reaches it, he hops over just as we did- no falling into the water or any screaming. "Oh fuck Matt, we totally thought you were infected back there, though you didn't scream like a fucking tard when you hopped across the water, so we're good". "Good, Good...Good." replied Matt...in almost the same tone as Dan had spoke. We shrugged it off and kept going along the trail, which eventually led off onto the shoulder of a highway.
We strolled down the highway, and I noticed Matt having a hard time walking after a few miles. "Need a brake bud?". "Brake? Brake.". "Well...alright than, Dan let's stop, he needs a brake." We all stopped on the side of the highway for a bit, and after a good five minutes, we decided to continue on; before we could make more than a few steps though, we saw an overturned car on the side of the road that we somehow hadn't manage to see before. It was an old sedan, coated with bumper stickers. Sitting bloody and mangled in the driver's seat was the old man from town- he was missing both arms, his jaw, and I'm pretty sure his dinner was spread across the windshield. Seeing so much of this tier of BS so far had made me pretty immune, but seeing his jaw missing definitely made my stomach turn over all over the ground. We wrapped up what was left of him in a tarp nearby, set it in the bushes, and stuck a marker on the side of the road as a makeshift funeral of sorts. We pressed on towards town after that, nothing too out of the ordinary for the rest of the walk.
Once we made it to town, it was vacant in every essence of the word. There were smashed-out cars littered through the streets, and the pleasant sounds of shrieking and glass breaking off in the distance. It truly was a quaint little mountain town. There was a woman pushing a shopping cart, crying out that demons were afoot, a few fires along the sides of the street, the usual warzone-esque image we all have burned into our minds. Was this the zombie apocalypse? A contagion? The supernatural? It was as if evil itself was walking in the skin of all that was thought of as good in this small corner of the Earth. We proceeded on, looking through the town for anything that could help us at this point (Mainly gas and ammunition). To be honest, we didn't have a hard clue why we came back, it was mainly Matt's idea from what i got our of our conversation earlier, during Breakfast. But still, why did he want us to come back? "Let's search that house we were in the other day guys", exclaimed Matt. Now the nopes were seriously going off. "Why? So you can drag us into that basement, kill us, eat us, and move on to other victims?". As I said that, he started heaving and convulsing heavily, throwing up everywhere. His sides split open, and the familiar red muk poured out, and started slithering right towards us. Me and Dan opened fire, unleashing a storm of iron on whatever the fuck this thing was trying to be. We reduced it to a heap of bloody shit on the ground, and then made our leave from the wasted piece of Earth.
We decided to jack a car instead of walking all the way back to HQ (If you're wondering why we didn't just leave; The Government would have hunted us down if we got away and spoke about this ordeal before it was greenlighted for the deep public domain), and as we passed the many miles of ill-fate walking the Earth after they should have been thrown into the ground, we both didn't say a single word. We'd already been through so much, that nothing else could have shocked us at this point. We just gunned it back to HQ, in hopes we woudn't be followed. When we finally arrived, I booked it out of the car, and into my tent to grab more ammo and some alone time. Dan eventually told me to come out around Sunset- he had set up a fire, cooked some food, and set up the radio for local broadcasts. "What a week, huh?". "Yup". Dan reached for his handgun, and began telling more military stories. "I've seen some crazy shit- got held down for three days and nights, listening to the Aloha Snackbar for most of it. Had a bear charge at me once when I was up hunting with mah' dad. I used to go hunting and camping with him a lot, he sort've influenced my life like a role model. I know, that's normal and proper, but without him I'd probably still be some little kid who never accomplished anything."
"One memory sticks out, though, not really related to anything I just said, other than the camping. A few months ago, maybe a year, me and a few buds got together out west for my militarybro's camp-out with his sister and her friend. We were all having a great time until some freaky-ass shit started happening, we got chased all the way back to the house by some 'thing'. That's the only way I can describe it. It was clawing at the door, and making a shitton of noise. Scared the fuck out of all of us, we even shot through the door at it. It eventually just scampered off into the night I guess, though. After that, I took some time before I'd go out at night again. I ended up researching the thing too, some crazy fucks on the internet call them "Goatmen", or "Skinwalkers". That first night we were out here, and that old man crawled his way onto our property, this was the first thing I thought about. Skinwalkers." "Dan, that's creepy as shit, but I hear yo-" "STAY QUIET, STAY DOWN", Dan whispered as he cut me off. He pointed over to the moonlit hill just a few yards away, and on top was a wriggling mass, your friendly neighbourhood sack of slithering bullshit came back for some love and hugs.
We watched in awe as it took shape in three forms- that of Matthias, Jerome, and Marco. They all just blatantly walked into camp, sat down on chairs, then looked at us and proclaimed "We'll clean it all up for you then, puss-in-boots!", over and over again, as they did their heaving and laughing. That was it, we both hit full-crazy right then and there, and started randomly firing in their general direction. Fuck, Dan even thew a grenade at them, but it must've not done a damn thing, because before we knew it, we were being circled by all three of them, galloping along the soil like fucking wolves or something. We were stuck in the middle by the campfire, and they were circling us. Oh, did I mention we were also out of ammo? We were fucked. Then, out of the woods, the old man from day one emerged with the skins of a bunch of people hanging from his head and back. In his right hand he held his axe, and in the cavities and holes we cut into him was blood-drenched matter and bonemeal. "Game over man, fucking game over!". Dan finally gave up it seemed, but I wasn't ready to be devoured by some psuedo-undead Goatmen. I acted on instinct and picked up a log from the fire, then proceeded to chuck it at the old fuck closing in on us. He caught fire, and started screaming bloody fucking murder. It was like a pig squeal, only amplified by over 9000. He was literally melting into a crisp in front of us. The three others vanished off into the woods, hopefully out of fear. "You boys better get the fuck out of there, we've got all the info we need now. Book it fellas, you have 8 minutes before we start firebombing that entire area." the radio buzzed before finally shorting out and going dark. Me and Dan both looked at eachother, and raced to the car we jacked earlier.
"Where do we fucking go?!?" Dan asked, all I could mutter was "Nowhere we've already been, they'll bomb the shit out of it", and then it both hit us: North. There was that old abandoned concrete structure, we could use it as shelter against the flames. He revved that thing the fuck up and didn't stop driving until
we were at the doorstep of the building. We got inside, guns-in-hand, and watched in awe as bombers flew overhead, dropping firebombs on the 20-mile radius of land around us. Everything was burning, and the shrieking just wouldn't stop. The smell of blood faded away, as did my consciousness. I awoke to Dan telling me to get the fuck up someone was here. We stepped outside, and it was the man I met nearly a week earlier. "You two have seen more than what was necessary, but you were also intricate in solving this biological crisis. We thank you for your service, and are sorry for the losses you've endured. Do not tell anyone about the events of the past week until we deem it fit to do so. Am I clear?" We both nodded in compliance, and boarded the black SUV driven up here, and away back home. Fast-forward a few weeks: Dan and I were now renting out an apartment, as he promptly left the military and laid low for a while. I was let go from my job, and given a sum of mney to live off of for a few years, as well as a weekly paycheck for as long as I kept my mouth shut. I've told you this story now because that deal is done, and anyone I tell will think I'm crazy anyways. All I know from this, is that the government and the big corporations know about what's out there; What Dan told me about. They want to have that power, to induce primal fear into everyone. And when they tried to do it, they failed miserably, because I'm still here.
>Never heard back from him.
Well at least we know the general mountains.Also found hidden lake from the other story.
>Pic related: captcha
Thanks Anon, I appreciate. Would /x/ like more of my writings? I sort of gave up on writing after that (I wrote it about a year and a half ago).
Also: Does anyone have the Skinwalker story about the house in the middle of Elko, Nevada? it was only posted a month for two ago.
Any and all info/stories on Elko County are greatly appreciated!!!
I got excited and forgot how to read.
Love your stories though, post em. The more OC the better! You're a great writer
Fucking awesome man, thanks for that.
I actually had some ideas, and will drop them sporadically as they're written. I can't do greentext well, so I apologize about that.
Elko is generally a fucked up area. Not exactly sure why, but most spoopy real stories from out there deal with the area in and around Elko. I'll dig around for some spoopy stuff about it, if you want. I'll be monitoring this thread for as long as it's around, and probably its successor, so I'll update when I can.
Hey guys. My name is Raul Domingo, and I’m from rural Nebraska, specifically the town of Soldier Creek, right outside of Crawford. It’s to the north-west, right where the cragged mountains start forming. Anyways, my family used to live there for quite a few generations… farther back than I could probably tell you. All I know, is that my great, great, great, great grandfather, or whatever, settled this land with his wife, a Sioux whom he met years before farther northeast. He was part of an exploration team under the Spanish Crown, prior to American control. At first, it was only him and her living in this area, with a few tradesmen and colonists. Later on, as he grew older, the town grew.
full blood native american, it's really simple to keep all that shit away. we think of it all like jedi and the sith. the sith being skinwalkers, or wendigo. I know everything about native american culture. anyone have any questions? I'm gonna hang out for the next 20 minutes at least if nobody replies..but, whatevs. I have some stories..but, I have real mundane look on "super powers" people think, they possess.
By the time he was gone, the Americans had controlled the entirety of Louisiana, and thus, Soldier Creek. The town never grew too big, only around twenty families, a main street, etc; your typical American small town. In the 1880’s, we had a pretty big mining and agriculture industry going on. The natives living in the area warned us about mining in an area we called Smiley Canyon, saying it was “cursed ground”, and all the other native bullshit that’s been shoveled into our conscious for years. My grandfather told me that the Shaman of their tribe told his grandfather that “the souls of the wicked and relentless lumber in those grounds; it is a depository for all that is evil in these lands most sacred. We do not tread there, we leave them to their anguish and retention”. Now obviously, if we had, I wouldn't be here telling you my life story in two million garbled sentences.
tell us your wisdom, sir! How can you keep them away? Tell us some spoopy stories, or just general interesting information about these topics.
And if I may ask, which nation/culture are you from?
The American miners kept on mining, and the fields kept being tended. As time went on, though, many accidents started occurring… not things you could have prepared for with any amount of proper training. There was an incident where a miner was up on some scaffolding in a darker area of the canyon, picking at the rock-face, then, before anyone could react, he just up and vanished. No one saw him vanish, he just wasn't there anymore. Like he disappeared from existence. They sent out a search party through the mines and the surrounding wilderness for him to no avail. Later that year, as one of the younger miners (probably thirteen or fourteen) was picking for iron in one of the deeper mines, the bones of the lost miner started pouring out of an air pocket in the wall. My grandfather told me that they were charred and cracked, like he had been set ablaze and then eaten violently.
Heh, quads for best story-development?
No one knew how he could’ve gotten in there, but more shit started piling up as the years went on. That kid who found the bones was never the same, for instance, four or five years later, they found him, his mother, father, and two sisters, dead inside of their home. He apparently strangled them all in their sleep, and then cut their bodies up and laid them astrewn throughout his house in a sort-of sick display of dominance. They found him hanging from a tree branch about 50 yards from the homestead. The man who found him, his boss, carried a pound of dynamite sticks into a mine one day, and blew the fucker up with himself inside. After they cleared the rubble and found what was left of him, nine out of the ten men who lifted his remains out of the mine committed suicide by years end.
This spree of death continued until the 1930s, when Smiley Canyon was closed indefinitely, and all involved were sent to San Haven Sanatorium in North Dakota. No one really knows what happened to the miners that were sent there, but only one of them ever came back: My great grandfather. My grandfather was already born by the time his father left for a good amount of his childhood, but apparently he was a lot different than he used to be, according to my grandfather. He had this thousand-yard stare, and just sort of nodded and replied with totalities to whatever you were asking him. He never found another job, and never really left the house… live, ever. After a while, my grandfather said he started chilling out in their basement for most of the day, only coming up to eat and sleep.
Even then, he eventually slept and ate down there as well. One day, my grandfather tried walking down there to talk to his dad, but upon knocking, his father opened the door almost immediately, and told him that the basement wasn’t a place for little boys (he was like, 15 at the time). This devolved into a one-sided argument, but what got my grandad running with his tail between his legs was this: His dad started rambling nonsense in an angry manner, like he was trying to yell at him, but with the wrong words. This started happening more and more as time went on, and every time, they sounded like he was repeating phrases. Anyways, when my grandfather was 18, he said one night he woke up to the sound of a cat crying beneath his window at night, so he brought it in and made him an official member of the family. He made a nifty collar for it out of some sacred Sioux beads or some shit, too. He never had a name for it other than “cat”, which I found off-putting, but I guess it’s whatever.
Within a month or so I guess, the cat hit the road, because he was nowhere to be seen. He wasn’t too torn up about it, so he didn’t bother searching or anything, and went about his business as usual. Later that year, he left Soldier Creek and studied drafting and engineering at University of Nebraska - Lincoln. Not the greatest school out there at the time, but he got in fairly easy, so he wasn’t about to give that up for anything. Throughout his entire tenure studying there, he only received two or so letters from his parents, both written oddly and making no sense whatsoever. He tried visiting, but every time he’d come home, no one would answer the door, either. Anyways, his big plans were to move to the big cities on the east coast and erect skyscrapers and shit, but he eventually grounded his dreams and began designing houses and office buildings. For graduation, he invited his parents to come, but received no response.
Hey, no problem. I've got a few more posts to do, so stay tuned, I guess.
When him and his friends were partying after graduation, he noticed one of the randoms was a tall man wearing a trilby that resembled his father. He walked over and confronted him, and immediately as he started speaking, he sprung up and stared directly into his son’s eyes, his nose touching his son’s. His iris’ appeared black and lifeless, and his body was cold and smelled like mothballs and rotten chicken. As he stared into his soul, he recalled his mouth tasting like copper and gaining the texture of raw meat. Never before had he been so scared in his life. As he began blinking his eyes and stuttering to say something- his dad was gone. He just vanished, like he was never there. He turned around to talk to his friend… and they were all gone too. He opened the blinds and it was dark as hell, last he checked it was only beginning to turn into twilight. He started looking around and felt a cold unease as he walked to the kitchen to grab his stuff and go check on his friends. As he grabbed them, the temperature in the room began to drop rapidly, and he swore on his life that he began hearing his closet door begin to “scream and beat itself to death”.
The scream was unlike anything he said he had ever heard... inhuman, deep, and tormented. He booked it the fuck out of there, but when he opened his door, it was fucking morning out. Now, I’m not saying that my grandfather is fucking crazy, or just drunkenly slept the entire night away, but when he told me this, he had this dead look in his eyes, like this was the part that haunted him the most. Anyways, afterwards he stayed at his friends place for the next year or so, trying to forget what happened. Eventually, he started getting complaints about a crazy man in a suit and hat scratching at his old front door and smashing in windows and shit. He and his friend thought it might be a great time to go visit his father and see what the fuck he was up to out here. The night they planned to leave, though, shit only got worse. As they were packing, they started hearing a thumping upstairs in the vacant apartment.
Like, a loud morse-code-almost thumping that was obviously intentional. They tried not to think about it and kept preparing for their departure (they planned on moving to New York afterwards anyways, so it was sort-of a double-pack). Just then, they started hearing an incessant screaming, like that of a fox being torn alive, come from the area of the ceiling where the pounding had come from before. They just grabbed what they had packed and ran into the front room, when something came flying through the front window, and glass sprayed fucking everywhere. They looked out the window and saw a car driving away, running over fences and curbs all the while. Upon closer inspection to the object thrown through the window...my grandfather realized it was his old cat. It even had the makeshift collar he made for it still on.
ojibway indian here.
we think of skinwalkers like devil worshippers. everything is based off the 4 directions, with 5 schools within the medicine wheel. those 5 schools have evil versions that are essentially based off cannibalism. so there's a good and bad. every religion has it. most of the skinwalker stories come from people who became cannibals, and were able to bend peoples reality because, they ate a piece of you. the GOOD side uses roots from plants and trees, to bound us to the earth, basically by consuming or keeping an object that has been around longer than humans have, hold higher spiritual strength than us. so thats why we burned tobacco, or sage. or nowya days weed. or consumed certain teas, because those who consumed humans and used that power against other humans, cannot withstand the power of the things nature has already provided us with. so the bottom line is this, if you don't believe in magic, then there will be no magic..but, if u see something that defies that ideal, consuming of holding the right object like a cross even, from ages past, will strengthen your perception and skinwalkers lose all there power. if you see one and he's half dog or half owl, that means that. you seeing him has already stripped them of there power. so keep believing it doesn't exist..because that what they don't want.
So, as you can imagine, him and his friend had dropped deuces the size of Rhode Island by this point, and were dashing for their car and just getting out of there. On the drive back to Soldier Creek that night, they said they didn’t see a single other car on the road the entire way, and that not a single star in the night sky was visible the entire time, just to add flavor to the shit-sundae. Anyways, near-morning, they reached his old house, and he nearly had a fucking heart attack: The windows and front door were boarded-shut, and lawn overgrown, and the inside completely pitch black. They broke their way in, and the inside looked utterly decrepit, like some shit went had definitely gone down here at some point.
Everything was looted and charred up, most of the doors gone, even a wall or two. There was also a family of ducks living in the kitchen underneath the broken window, I guess. Through all of this, though, the only door in the house still there, was the door leading to the basement. It was at this point that my grandfather began telling his friend about his father’s life, and at that point his friend threatened to book it by himself if they didn’t leave. My grandfather said that they had to check the basement, or else this was all for nothing; he had to know what his father hid down there all those years ago. His friend agreed to accompany him, and they then opened the door to hell and descended the rickety stairs to the den below.
As soon as they had opened the door, the smell hit them. He said it was indescribable, and that all of their senses seemed “clogged”. As the picture became clearer, the terror started to course through their veins; It was unimaginable; the sheer sight before them as the looked through the staircases bar’s was apparently the kind of thing you don’t even see in movies: There was absolutely nothing. The basement was dark, and all the furniture that used to inhabit it was missing; It was completely barren. My grandfather’s friend started to laugh and say that his parents probably ditched his loser-ass and booked it to Vegas or something, years ago. My grandfather agreed, and they started their way back up the stairs.
So, if we carry inhuman objects given by the Earth with pride and faith, we should be on the "good" path, whilst those whom succumb to their inner desires and harm other men for their own pleasure and carry those objects are on the "bad" path? Intradasting. Thanks for the tid-bit anon. If you're still around, you should tell us some stories when you get the chance.
Just then, something at the top of the basement stairs chucked something rather large at the duo, and slammed the door shut. They both rolled down the stairs and fell into a pile of trash bags at the bottom- something that wasn’t there before. They got to their feet, and looked down at what had just hit them- my grandfather’s old, clawed-up and bloodied closet doors from his old place. As the horror began to incestuously infest their fragile minds, the lights outside grew dead black, and the basement illuminated with a striking ferocity; Before them, on a pedestal to all of man’s mistakes, lay a harbinging display of the livelihoods of both his mother, and his father. Estreched upon the wall, her bloodied corpse lay in shambles with fresh blood leaking from her spewing innards. Her face lay missing, and her bones broken and laid out upon the table below her, next to his father, whom apparently opted out shortly after
Trips confirm Raul for best spoopy-teller.
My grandfather never told my what happened next, but he said the month after he got the police to investigate the house, the entirety of Soldier Creek vanished from people’s memories. You can google map this shit, it just doesn’t exist where it used to anymore. The scariest part? When he settled himself in New York, his fucking mom visited him. She told him they had lived in the city all their life, and that he graduated from UoNY the past summer with his friend… whom agreed with her. His father never came home from San Haven, because he was never there, she said. He died in an auto accident the year prior.
I don’t know if my grandfather’s crazy or whatever, I don’t know much about this paranormal bullshit. What I do know, however, is that I remember growing up in Soldier Creek. My childhood has always felt foggy, but I never really questioned it until I got into college a few years ago. My father told me that we were from Soldier Creek, and that I was descendant of Spaniards and shit, but I don’t even know anymore. What do you guys think? I just try not to think about it beyond what my grandfather, the drunk bastard, told me. I live in Kansas City now, and sometimes I don’t know where the hell life’s taking me… or who’s in control.
Uhhh, Don't know if this is a fitting place to say my story. It isn't skinwalker or goatman... But the thing is still making me shit myself for over a year now...
I kick myself since I acted like a grade A idiot for the whole 45 seconds or whatever for the entire thing...
>Live out in Canadian Mountain Resort Town, Nice place to live though built on the side of a mountain. Moved to third house near the lake and the large orange bridge across.
>Finished Graduating and attempted to be an Artist, taking a Digital Arts and New Media course at the local college which I sucked at besides the odd few bits.
>Final project needed to be an artsy film of any kind, Decide to go the whole fucking dark route.
>Decide to film a POV of my sisters being little shits with random cuts of me dragging a garbage bag across the orange bridge
>Get to dragging the bag, Stuffed bear with some weights to simulate the heaviness of the bag. GoPro camera on my head
>Get to filming around 2 am, Bridge is dead silent and no cars around. Go about filming and being creepy as fuck, Though it wasn't edgy enough for teacher since I didn't get a shot of me hucking the bag over because I don't pollute
>Get to halfway point and feel finished, turn off Camera and get ready to lug the heavy bag back home and start editing.
>Turn to look at the other end of the bridge
>Huge fucking thing is climbing over the side, thought it was a dude until a fucking spider like leg rose out to follow
>Stare and try not to move, Fucking thing starts skittering slowly across the bridge. Lights illuminating the fucker up
>Greyish white, Fucking weird ass skeletal head thing... Like a horse's smashed in to look 'human'
>Lower body is like a fucking horses but it was these fucking legs.. like a bug or something. Spider... It just looked wrong.
>Thing goes across and just slides off the other end of the bridge
>NOPE THE FUCK OUT OF THERE
>Run right back to my place, leaving the bag behind and locking every fucking door to my house.
>Dad wakes and argues why I am up and is wrong
> I fucking sweared and was freaking out and tried telling him what I saw
> He blinks before muttering and goes back to bed.
> Proceed to walk about and staring out my window before remembering I had the GoPro
> Swear and get angry that I didn't take a picture, leave at about 4 am to go back for the bag
> Thing is ripped open, Plush tiger in it was destroyed (Sisters angry about that)
> Walk home with what remained and proceed to crash and fall asleep
This was all last year, I tried telling others about it but they hardly believe me. That thing was fucked up and I hardly want to go out again that late without seeing that. That is all I really got besides some weird shit in the sky or weird shit in a somewhat famous haunted house.
I think I may have the parts I filmed, But I only recorded myself dragging the bag at different parts. I was wrapping up and getting ready to head back when I saw the fucker. I still hate myself for just freezing, But that thing was just... It was terrifying, I didn't want it to see me. I wanted to run and get away, Turning the camera on was my last option
I'll see what I have in the saved footage, But I highly doubt something would be on it sadly since I had to go through it to edit it for class. Dropped the class anyway for accounting to get a luxurious job where I can get a place to NOPE to
Also, I just remembered the smell. It was like a stale skunk or something... Not as bad, But still something the stunk and made my nose cringe. But my mind was more on the weird 12 foot freak then that...
Hey guys, I'm back. Did OP ever return? Did Film-guy ever post his footage? And did the Ojibiway guy tell use more stories? Haven't skimmed the thread yet, and can't for a bit, so sorry if I sound like an asshat.
This is a great story which kinda fits the "Skinwalker" bill I've stumbled upon while browsing /x/ in a winter night a few months ago to find me some fine spoops. I was too lazy to screen cap dat shit but luckily for you I at least pasted it to a notepad file. Enjoy:
>Work at gas station
>little shitty box version, like outside department stores ect.
>The box I'm in is basically concrete, steel, re-bar, and 3 inches bullet proof glass.
>Company spent allot on this tank-like-box
>Pretty much after a certain hour in day, like 10-ish, would lock all vending area's coolers ect, and just sell gas till morning shift came in
>At that point no reason to get out of box, all is prepay ect ect
>Cue 12:ish am, little old beater of car pulls up
>Out gets old lady, Asian, with that 70+ short asian tiny and furious look
>Comes to window, surprisingly polite
>launch weird shite.jpg
>she starts looking at closed coolers, locked carts ect
>like she's browsing at shite she can't see/get too
>looks at me, ohthehorror
>Can't describe it well, but her face....was it was like she had all her skin replaced.
> I mean the complexion, the meshing of it was all wrong
>this bitch had MOLE spots on her hands, and her old lady dress showed me her wrinkly old legs as well
>but her face...and worse her smile
>ever seen those fuckers with the perfect/fake teeth, that seem to have no excuse but to give you a big LOOK THE FUCK AT me smile?
>that's this lady
>so her face looks like someone copypasted it onto her
>her smile says LOOK AT ME, I'M HARMLESS.
>that shit eating smile.
>walks up to window
>Starts tapping on glass.
>Ask her if she needs anything
>Cue fucking smile again
>say's she needs to refuel
>ask her if she knows what to do
>replies with a dragged out "Ohhhhh yessss"
>raised eybrow, but ok
>ask her for prepay amount, pay type ect
>she looks at me "I forgot my purse, I'll be right back"
>Watch her got to her car, bend down into it to get a purse or what the fuck ever
>She bends down, partially out of view.
>bends down further....fucking gone. Can't see her
>5 minutes go by. no creepy face lady
>scrapping at door, soft rapping
>Mind you this door is THE ONLY way in/out of this box
>from register stare with fear at peephole that's in door
>decide to not look at murder hole of death
>all of my fear in full effect
>then scrapping on roof
>same as before
>brain goes in overdrive
>...what if someone...something want's in like in the movies
>what happens in scary movies?
>big evil whatsit examines walls weakspots ect...
>Brain is making it worse for me, decide to call office, in store,
>they can see my station ect
>let them clear my scared out head...
Fucking jitters remembering this shite.
>how about this weather.jpg ect
>Desk lady says "what weather?
>you know, the wind, blowing shite around outside ect
>Anon...what weather? It's calm as can be outside
>....what about you know....I fumble
>It's a beautiful night anon, relax, no storms lol
>her slight shifting/walking around sounds
>allthough...is everything ok out their anon?
>why I stutter into the phone?
>the western side lights are completely out
>...i can't speak
>"Along with your back pole light
pole light is the parking light that's in most parking lots ect...only ONE near me for about...ohh...40ish feet around me till customer parking starts.
>At this moment I realize my folly
>the phone in little box was in back of box
>behind privacy nich, for counting cash ect
>look around nich
>where the fuck's the light god.
>only few lights on, so I can see in front of me at closed coolers ect
>and who the fuck's their.
>little creepy Asian lady
>Her face, in that mismatched looking complexion
>That fucking smile
>"Anon, I can't reach my purse, it fell
>in my head "bitch it's been ten minutes.
>"anon" she goes on "can you come outside to get it for me"
>Uhh..." I mutter "can't, as you can see having electrical issues ect...
>bullshit excuse I know but I'm in full /x/ panic
>Oh please anon, she says, I'm so old and weak...
>Sorry, can't leave, this is too big
>bullshite excuse about emergency ect
>smile fucking vanishes.
>Come outside she says
>slight rasp in her words now
>Can't I stutter
>this is where I crossover
>this is where I fucking belive Like scully and mulder.
>This little old lady.
>This fucked up face little old lady, maybe 5'5 at BEST
>she stare's at me...with all of her fury.
>And she gets as close as she can to the window.
>And she slams her fist on it
>i mean fucking once
>and grumbles something like "FUELFOOD" hodepodged together
>and I shit you not
>not like hair crack
>i mean CRACK
>on one of my days off before, some methhead took a shot at it with a 38,
>glass was replaced, but I saw it, was a good crack,embedment ect
>it was like this lady put a 12gauge sluge 2 inches away and fired
>I fucking lose it
>pick up phone, call office
>cops show up
>night manger comes running, I'm in the back, fucking pale and waiting
>pound on door
>it's manger anon, with P.D. open up
>cue hours later
>and CUE fucked up shite
>lights are back to normal
>camera's apparently didn't catch anything
>said storm musta knocked em out or something
>then look at glass
>go home anon, see you tomorrow
>manager covers shift, go home with cross, bible, and 1911
>cue next day.
>the box looks like shit.
>door has paint stripped off in streajs
>chunks are missing from sides of box roof
>....like something climbed it
>manager says theirs actually a whole in roof, that is an inch from tiles ect
>Squeak a yay sarcastically
>manager asks what happend....
>cue next day.
>the box looks like shit.
>door has paint stripped off in streajs
>chunks are missing from sides of box roof
>....like something climbed it
>manager says theirs actually a whole in roof, that is an inch from tiles ect
>Squeak a yay sarcastically
>manager asks what happend....
>Says that PD may wan't my statement if it's...suspicious ect.
>nope the fuck away from him, say musta been weather ect
>...manger looks after me, "yeah...I think so too anon"
>switch to different department after that
Everyone asked me for years about that story...wanting to hear how I was "shot" at... the worst thing is that I've heard that their was a an employee who covered that shift after me. She stayed until last year,and since I left the company, I was outa touch. visited recently, how's it going ect. They say she went missing last year. That she opened her door on her shift...and walked out the back door. The computer system went out...the camera's too...she's still missing...fucked up thing is the guy working said the only lead they had was this fucked up beater of a car...that was seen briefly driving away from bank camera across the street.
Film-Guy here, Checked my computer. Only got one cut of footage left on my desktop that was used for final. I'll try and upload as a Youtube video, But there isn't nothing on the camera except my 'Edginess' PoV I wanted.
Also, I fucking saw that shit in my dreams... I wish I could have just had something normal. Forgot about the fucking arms. Shit, How did I forget those arms...
Anyway, Will post again with video. Just don't expect much, I feel like an idiot for having it on me and not doing anything but fuck... That feeling and smell was just terrible...
[spoiler] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=69mY0sTmYNY&feature=youtu.be [/spoiler]
Not sure if spoiler thing worked, Not much of a poster here. But that is all that I got left from my recordings. No fucking creepy as shit Man spider shit in it...
I just want to believe I had a temporary moment of insanity /x/... But I still can remember that fucking night. The stale ass skunk smell that smelled dry on an obvious wet night, The fucking thing clambering over with it's like 8 foot arms and just crossing the fucking bridge before clambering and falling off...
Ugghh, Recommend me something sweet and alcoholic so I can forget about.
If you guys wanna wait to archive till tomorrow, I've got some content coming tomorrow. Meant to finish it today, but got swamped at work. If you wanna archive now, I'll start a /sw/ general tomorrow, starting with the story.
Sounds good to me.
Lets have this one finish out through the night.
>Anon's dad knew what they were and would do as soon as he got to the clearing.
>Anon's dad didn't just drive the fuck away and save the guy's wife while he still could.
>He did nothing about the pair after bringing them back to civilization. He actively refused to acknowledge the situation.
>Danny's dad payed all the bills for the skinwalker den for 5 years.
>This whole thing happened on Danny's dad's property.
>Despite having prior knowledge of the skinwalkers, it was only after this incident that anon's dad stopped camping.
Suspicious as fuck.
That wasnt no "Bunyip".
It was most likely an australian Yowie.
The "Feathers" was just most likely matted fur.
(Yowies are simmilar to the North American Bigfoot,
but prefer to hang around water, or stay
within the vacinity of a water source)
Hey guys, Film-Guy here. I am going to see if the GoPro has anything else. I borrowed it from my cousin, So I am hoping the old footage could still be on it (Doubt it since it has been a year), But I want to see if I caught anything weird on it...
Perhaps if I were a braver and stupider man, I would go and try heading out past the spot where it was to see what happens... But I like my life and would rather not be near that thing again.
I have some questions I hope you guys can answer. 1.) Why do they stalk people so much? Is it part of their hunting thing? Makes the kill more satisfying? Seems like alot of stories in this thread mention getting stalked for several nights, wouldnt a predator just want to eat them as quickly as possible?
2.) What happens to people who get "taken"? I know its implied they get killed/eaten but in several stories like the desert party one the real guy ends up at home. Why do they let some people go?
3.) Are there other creatures that cause dread while walking in the forest? My mom and I were walking in the Jughandle State Reserve just south of Mendocino Ca one year and I got the worst cast of sheer dread. Its a thickly wooded forest with redwoods and ferns. We were walking and this feeling of dread/terror was so intense it stopped me in my tracks. It was dead quite too, no birds ect. I told my mom we needed to leave and she didnt argue. We backed out slowly at first and ended up running back to the car. Never saw anything but the experience made me think of this thread. Also never went back to that forest neither.
Thanks for any info ect, Im just curious and spooped lol, was reading these stories around 1am last night.
Wasn't even in the right area.
Pic related is the majority of the area where E Zed said he would look on Google Earth, "slightly north of the road off of Highway 93 that goes into Ruby Valley." Way at the top is his hometown of Wells.
As you can see, it's a fucking huge area.
There are hundreds of dirt trails all through this area, and most of them just end in some canyon or crease in the mountainside. It's fucking ludicrous trying to find one that matches E Zed's description. A little more specificity would've been nice.
eh, t's specifically in the mountains, and by the sound of it you could just ask the locals in wells about abandoned mines in the area. It wouldn't b e too hard to narrow the search down considerably.
Honestly though, just how smart are skinwalkers??? They seem to be smart enough to mimic voices but not smart enough that people wont notice the difference. They also seem to be smart enough to get inside peoples houses based on several of these stories. Also they are strong enough to throw deer/elk/moose corpses at the side of buildings but they are not strong enough to break some thin glass through all the windows they were peeping through??? It all sounds kinda fishy to me...
Film Guy, Just checked back from cousin. Footage was corrupted for some reason when I gave it back to him. So no go with that. Anyway, Can skinwalkers take any shape? Could the thing I saw be like a Skinwalker/Deer thing? Can they do that?
I got nothing out on my end unless I go track down anyone in town who goes out into the forests a lot.
Is this E Zed's cabin? I can't tell if that green circle is a well or not.
So apparently E Zed is seeing old foundations and mineshafts on his way to this place. And according to his story, there are trees around.
I found this Polar Star Mine here, and it is slightly north of Highway 229, which is the road you would take to get to Ruby Valley. It's also a forested area.
Looking around on the trails, I'm not seeing much of anything that matches his descriptions, but it might be something, a starting place at least.
Fuck, if only the guy could of been more specific in his geography. You know what would have really helped? If he mentioned whether it was on a westward or eastward facing slope. And if only mineshafts and cement foundations could stand out better against the terrain.
Looks like there was a namefag named arb who related to E Zed's story in October of '13. She claims it was even on the same mountain.
I say "she" because she mentions her husband and had an email attached to her name for a few posts: firstname.lastname@example.org
If anyone wants to shoot her an email and garner more info, be my guest.
Back in July of '13, this Anon thought he could approximate the location of E Zed's story with these coordinates:
I plugged them into both Earth and Maps, but it's just a barren hillside, with no 180 degree turn in the road and no cabin. It is, however, pretty close to that Polar Star Mine and Highway 229 as seen in >>16051881 .
Anon is also claiming that E Zed posted the same story on another website 4 years prior, and some details were changed or left out. So, you know...
I figured "Check /k/" cause E Zed mentioned it in his OP.
We're not the first people to want to know more:
That was August '14.
And then these guys come in saying they've found it on Google Earth, and conveniently state that they never "saved" the coordinates for whatever reason.
I remember one story written by a pizza delivery guy that gave me the chills. I don't think the author ever verified location but it was still creepy. Anyone have it?
Also 10/10 thread thanks for the contributions
See, when E Zed says 180° bend, I'm thinking like the one in pic related.
From the crude map he drew, the cabin and well were supposedly off to the side of the trail, past the red rock and vertex of the bend. Also, he makes it look like it was nestled in a canyon or crease in the mountainside, and that the bend is a pretty steep one, going up from the fallen tree in altitude. Of course, in Google Earth it's somewhat hard to tell.
A question about the red rock: in the 14 years or so since this incident supposedly took place, the rock wouldn't have eroded away completely, right? He said it stood out, was uncommon for the area, and so I'm wondering if I should bother looking at the red areas like the patch of red in pic related.