Creeper in the Alley

I was still in high school at the time, and even though this encounter was brief — it only transpired in a few seconds or so, it still gave me the willies.

I picked up the regular exercise regimen of running in junior high. It was and has been a form of rigorous exercise to help me keep trim and healthy, and running also allows me to meditate on story ideas, listen to music, and generally release stress. By the time I was a sophomore in high school i had a regular route I took in the city where I grew up. This involved turning the corner from my street, darting a half block down the adjacent street, and then turning right to end up on the main boulevard to cross a major intersection before continuing along the route. Sometimes I would cut through an alley lined by houses on each side to get to the intersection, just because it was away from the noise of busy traffic and I considered it a sort of “shortcut.” Usually, when I cut through the alley, I would be the only one in it. I may see an occasional stray cat or dog, or I would hear the sounds of a lawnmower from someone’s backyard, but that was about it. The gates leading to the backyards of the houses lining the alley remained shut, so I never gave it much thought when I ran by.

One Saturday morning I had gone on a long run, and coming to the close of my workout, I decided to cut through the alley to get home quicker. I jotted across the intersection, turned onto the major boulevard, and made a quick left turn into the alley. It was empty before me, as usual, and I thought nothing much — I just listened to the music playing through my earphones as I began running through the alley.

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Dogman driven off

This was not a report I myself witnessed but instead one my grandmother told me about that my aunt later corroborated seperately. For a little background my grandparents’, currently aunt’s, home is in backwoods of Virginia. Extremely thick forest with hilly terrain in all directions. You have to get on a dirt path and follow it for about half a mile to get to a gravel covered side road, and then follow it for about 30 minutes to reach a very small town just across the North Carolina border. If you go a short ways North you find yourself at the Blue Ridge mountains and parkway that lead up into Appalachia proper. The forest is mostly low-lying shrubs up to around 4 feet high with pine and a lot of black oak trees making up the canopy. There is a very clear stream about 30 yards from the house which has fish quite frequently. This along with wild blackberries, tender leaf shrubs, and some apple trees make it very lucrative for wildlife. The house itself is an old two-story house built onto an incline of the hill that overlooks it. This was back in the 1970s, my aunt believes it was 1978 as she was finishing high school at the time.

My father had graduated from college and was going on to the Air Force, so he had already moved out. My grandfather, although he was old enough to retire, liked to remain busy so he worked his old job as an electrician and power pole technician; just now in an advisory role because he was getting up there in years. He had just gotten the contract down in North Carolina so he was away from the house for about a week and a half. This left only my 17-year-old aunt and grandmother at the house.

As I said there usually was a lot of wildlife in the area. A typical morning for my grandmother was making breakfast and sitting out on her porch watching deer and rabbits eat at the shrubs. Sometimes she would also see or hear a bobcat, fox, or coyote about. On one occasion a mountain lion and her cups strolled right past the house. One animal she was familiar with in particular was a very large black bear who could be recognized by folks around those parts from a white patch on his chest and a hole in his left ear. My grandmother nicknamed him “Captain” because he had a habit of sitting on his haunches and reaching up with his paws to pick apples, a motion that looked like he was saluting. Captain was a very big black bear but wasn’t very aggressive unless tested. He seemed to have an agreement with my grandmother and grandfather that if they left him alone he would leave them alone. He’d just strolled by the house every now and then to have some blackberries on the bushes or apples that had fallen down, which meant he came by the house’s yards often as he was too big to climb trees much more and the fruit trees around the house were low enough he could reach up and pick food. My grandfather guesstimated he was somewhere in the 500 to 600-pound range and roughly 6 feet tall as my grandfather once measured some scratch marks he left on a tree.

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Ghoul On The Hill

I’ve always expirienced some form of supernatural phenomeon throughout my lifetime. Most aren’t anything to write home about- easily dismissed by devoted skeptics eager to attribute that knock on the door to wind. Or the full bodied visage to spoiled beef.
That said, out of all my expiriences , nothing frightened me nearly as bad as one encounter three years ago…

It was about two-thirty in the morning. My ex and I had a nasty argument, and I had decided to walk off any lingering frustration and anger.

After thirty minutes of walking around aimlessly, I decided to head home, make peace with the ol’ battle axe and get some sleep. However….as I started to walk up the steep hill that lead to the house, something caught my eye near our walk way.

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The Creepy Man.

I am a 20 year old female and I live in Michigan I was 16 years old when these events happened. I am a huge athletic nerd and I go hiking every day unless I feel lazy. I picked the wrong day to go one day and I met and experienced something I will not want to experience again.

I drove to the hiking trail I go to just about every time I go hiking and this day I saw a creepy guy to look like he would be in his 30’s but me being as stubborn and hardheaded as I was back then I ignored my gut and went and started jogging on the trail.

I took a short glance at him and started going onto the trail and I got 200-300 yards away from the entrance and took a short break until I heard a scream from what sounded like a man and look down the path which made my heart drop. I saw the guy running straight toward me as my adrenaline rushed into me I started to run as fast as I can.

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What We Encountered in the Woods

I lived in Tennessee and was a big fan of camping and hiking. In 2006, me, my girlfriend, my cousin and four other friends had gone on a hiking trip. My girlfriend’s uncle had a rather large property he sometimes allowed people to stay at. In one remote corner of this land he even had a remote cabin he would rent out occasionally and this property was connected to a “no man’s land” as some people called it. You could go out there, as some of us had before and not see another sign of people.

We intended to rough it along the back trails with the intention to camp overnight. After a long hike, it got dark so we built a fire, set up our small tents, had a couple of beers, cooked a few hot dogs over the flames. It was pleasantly uneventful until near midnight. We had been telling stories when suddenly, my cousin started looking off into the dark and began trying to shush us.

After a few seconds of quiet I started to ask what was happening when he bluntly told me hush up. “I’m hearing like, voices out there. I think.”

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Stalked by a Werewolf while on drugs: Update

(This is not part of the story, this is for whatever website moderator is reading this submission, so please remove this paragraph if you decide to use this story. I used a throwaway email to submit the original story with and i dont remember what it was. I cannot prove that i am the author of that story, but hopefully by stating that the story was submitted at some point in late January / early February, that might be enough proof that i submitted the story [as it was not uploaded until March]. Also i hope that you can see certain similarities in my writing style as further proof that it was i who submitted the original story. I will submit this update anyway, with the hopes that it will at least be uploaded to the website as i completely understand that this might not be suitable for the channel as it is not actually a story. Oh, and thanks for uploading my original story.)

This is an update to a story i submitted earlier on in the year, titled “Stalked by a Werewolf while on drugs”.

So a few months ago i submitted my story to darknessprevails.org. This update is just to respond to a few comments from some people who are skeptical about my story.

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Navajo Skinwalker in Colorado

My story begins in Colorado. I was 14 years old at the time. My family was taking a trip to visit my grandmother, who lives deep in the country. We were planning to stay over a few nights and enjoy the peace and quiet of the country. I’ve always been more of an in-doorsy person, but I did love taking a nice hike through the woods from time to time.

The highway drive was long and uneventful, but once we finally got there, I was super excited. After all, I had my own room in the beautiful cabin my grandmother lived in, with an amazing view of the lake and forest surrounding the property. I exchanged greetings with her, and, after a few minutes of idle conversation, headed to my room. I pulled out my laptop and began to get setup for a quality gaming session when I first heard the howling.

It sounded like a wolf’s cry, but slower, almost distorted. Like, if you recorded the howl, played it back at half the speed, and lowered the pitch. It was creepy, but, having little to no experience living in the country, I brushed it off, mentally categorizing it as a different animal.

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