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.

During the week my grandmother noticed a fairly sharp decline in the animals nearby. It was the latter part of summer in a wet season so most of the plants were full-bloom and the leaves were at their tenderest, yet she couldn’t see hide nor hair of any rabbits or dear coming to graze. A coyote she had her yapping every night for the past month seemed to vanish. A few neighbors (by neighbors I mean people who lived within 5 miles) who stopped by told her something had taken their dog and their chicken coop had been smashed into. They assumed the mountain lion that lurked about had done it since it was the only other thing that could feasibly take down a large farm dog as they had seen Captain the day after in a completely different area gorging himself on a dead deer.

They checked around the couldn’t find anything. The next night my grandmother was woken up by my aunt who told her that she heard something bang against the outside of her wall. They checked around in the morning after and found one of the deer butchered with a bloody smear on the wall. Judging from the way the gravel was disturbed, the deer had been walking by the house when something ambushed it and in the struggle, it got smacked against the wall. My grandmother, having grown up in the woods, was familiar with predator kills and methods. Mountain lions tend to jump on the back and rake their claws across the flanks to hold on as they bite the neck, black bears will usually break the neck or the back with their paws while biting the head, and the rare occasions coyotes attack deer they usually do it by biting down on the inside of the leg and twisting to rip the muscle and arteries. This kill clearly had the throat ripped out, but there weren’t any claw marks to be found and the bite looked narrower than what a cougar would do. Plus she could gander there was only one predator from the way the ground had been disturbed, which didn’t make sense for coyotes as they typically hunted in pairs since just one alone isn’t usually enough to bring down a full grown deer.

After disposing of the carcass the next few nights were relatively uneventful except for the fact several times my aunt or grandmother would be woken up in the middle of the night by the sound of something panting outside. Now in these woods you can hear a pin drop if it’s close enough and at some points, they could swear the animal making the painting was directly outside the wall. One day my grandmother was picking some berries when she noticed what looked like dog tracks of a very large hound going through a mud flat bordering the nearby stream. Thinking it might be the missing farm dog who had maybe just run away, she followed the tracks until she heard something loudly growling at her from across the stream.

She looked up to see the partially obscured face of what look like on large, bulky, brown colored coyote or wolf standing in a thicket on the other side of the stream. She quickly began to back away, glancing back only to check her footing on the slope that led down to the stream. When she looked back she saw the very distinctly canine face in much greater detail because the animal had moved out from under cover. But instead of stepping out of the leaves like she thought it did at first, she soon noticed that it was instead standing up on its hind legs and peering over the shrubs. Now she had seen canines stand upright before. Dogs do it, foxes can do it, coyotes sometimes do it. It was the size that took her off guard. She had been to that exact same thicket of shrubs just the other day and her head only just barely reached the top, and my grandmother was around 5’3. This thing had its head pitched clear over the shrubs with a little bit of extra visible. And usually, when a predator is making no attempt to hide, it’s usually because its trying to intimidate someone. My grandmother managed to back away to the hill without turning around, and when she started to get out of sight the creature stepped out of the thicket on its hind legs. It strolled forward in a very uncanny way she had trouble describing but she insisted it never went back down on all fours. Needless to say, she ran to the house in a backpedal sprint. That night they heard the panting again along with a distant howl and scraping sounds. They found the garage door, back door frame, and kitchen window frame all had claw marks on them from something investigating them.

The canine creature was seen a few more times across the week by my grandmother and the neighbors; usually on or near the area of my family’s property. My aunt finally saw it when she saw a pair of fuzzy ears outside her window. Now she wasn’t startled right off the bat from this as Captain had come by her window a few times before and she gradually lost some fear of the big bear over the years. But in his case his ears just barely reached the edge of the window seal whereas in this case, you could clearly see them and the top of their owner’s head. She quickly realized it wasn’t the bear because of the pointed shape, brown coloring, and the fact it had two fully intact ears. They also started to detect a very pungent smell on a side door porch, one time finding what look like some urinal or some other liquid stains on it; suggesting an animal had scent marked it to claim the spot.

It all came to a head on a Wednesday night when they heard howling in the distance grow closer. My grandmother flipped on a porch light and glimpsed the canine animal quickly sprinting across the lawn on its hind legs again, her sighting confirming how big it was. For several hours of the night, they could hear it roaming around the property and pressing against doors like it was trying to find a way in. They glimpsed at several points eye shine of yellow eyes peering in through the windows as well as broad, long-fingered paws being pushed against the glass briefly. This was the day an age before cell phones and 24-hour police service in some rural areas, so no one had a means of immediately calling the police. Instead, my grandmother had to wait arduous minutes on a landline with connection difficulty trying to call the police station two towns over.

She was distracted by my aunt screaming, running into the bedroom to get one of the guns out. She had been sitting in the living room when she felt clicking against the glass and saw “that wolf thing” pressing its face and bared teeth against the surface with its claws fully outstretched. Both of them started to try to get the rifles or shotguns out, it was becoming increasingly clear the creature was trying to get into the house and knew they were in there.

They heard it panting through a wall before there was the sound of heavy footsteps and a very loud “Thump!”. Now it’s not like in the movies when creatures roar, snarl, and hiss constantly no matter what they’re doing. My aunt and grandmother hadn’t the faintest idea what was going on outside and didn’t investigate until the morning after, but they could tell something was antagonizing something as occasional grunts, barks, and rumbles were audible through the blackness.

They found no bodies but there’d clearly been an ferocious altercation. The ground was ripped up in multiple spots, the wall had a dent in it, and there was some oxidized blood traces on the grass and dirt. My grandmother also found a trail where something had charged through the shrubs and recovered several vague dog prints as wider tracks moving the same direction. The animals all seemed to come back by the end of the week and the howls stopped.
When my grandfather came back home he, my aunt, and some neighbors surveyed the area to make sure they couldn’t find the wolf creature. Evidently the neighbors had also heard howls around their property at night that stopped recently too. They couldn’t find it despite surveying the whole property, though they did find what looked like a track way leading out of the property and running off into the mountains.

Several days later my grandmother saw Captain again, marking his territory by rubbing up against a tree in their yard and scratching the bark. He had several cuts across his muzzle, was missing patches of fur, had some healed bite wounds on his arm, and the hole in his ear had been torn open to the point he was missing half the ear flap, but other than that and a slight limp that went away with time; he was fine.

When he was told about the urine like smell on the doorstep when the wolf creature was running amok, my grandfather speculated it was trying to claim the territory. Usually black bears are relatively docile but evidently Captain took issue with this newcomer imposing on his space and became aggressive, so what my grandmother and aunt heard that one night was the bear charging while it was distracted and engaging the intruder. While the wolf looking creature was taller, it seemed skinnier and apparently decided it wasn’t worth claiming this spot if it meant having to square off with a quarter ton of claws and teeth for it. As a thank you and so he could recover his strength quicker my grandmother trimmed the apple trees to down all the fruit and let the bear enjoy himself without feeding him directly. Winter would be in a few months and she wanted him fattened up so he could stick around for the next year, just in case.

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.

At first I couldn’t tell who or what it was thanks to the dimly lit streets of Coatesville. But as I gradually walked closer, I could tell it was a cloaked figure. I thought to myself “Okay…maybe they’re a LARPer”. Then he or she started moving. Almost instantaneously I felt a tidal wave of fear wash over me.

Due to the lighting and the figure’s head and body being shrouded, I couldn’t tell which direction they were headed. My fear was exasperated by the fact that they flapped the edges of their cloak as they walked like wings.

I found myself praying to a God I wasn’t sure I believed in…almost begging that they weren’t coming down the hill in my direction. I was absolutely frozen in my tracks as this thing flapped it’s cape ominously with each step.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, it became obvious that they were walking up the hill rather than down. Gradually the fear faded as they got further and further. As soon as this thing was out of sight, my legs started to move again. I made a beeline to my front porch, pounding on the door for my ex to let me in.

Now, I can never be really sure what it was that I truly saw that night. As always I’m open to logical explanations. Although the few people I have told the story to at different times all have the same theory; A ghoul and/or demonic entity.

One thing is for certain though. Every subsequent encounter with the paranormal has been downright tame compared to that fateful night….

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.

This guy was running so fast he was catching up with me and I was a really fast runner. This guy ran like he had taken 2 shots of steroids as I started to cry and panic I took a sharp turn into the woods and started to run back to the parking lot area.

I kept hearing his footsteps not to far behind me once again as I kept running the footsteps started to go slower as I was getting closer and closer to the parking lot. Atlast I made it to the parking lot and cried tears of joy as I took out my cellphone and called the cops. Not so long after they arrived and searched and found the man. He was a homeless 37 year old guy and they said they found a butcher knife in one his coat pockets. Till this day I am glad I did rotc throughout high school or else I he would of had an energy advantage against me. The creepy maniac homeless guy Lets Not Meet Ever Again.

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.”

We all stayed quiet for the next minute, my cousin swearing he heard a voice or voices calling out there past the treeline in the distance. Soon, we started catching what sounded like the faintest yell, that we couldn’t quite make out, and a few of us started yelling out to whoever was out there in the dark, trying to get a response. We thought maybe someone was lost.

“HELLO! IS SOMEBODY THERE? ARE YOU LOST?” my girlfriend yelled, joined in by one of my friends, shouting through his cupped hands: “Heeeelllooooo!! Over heeeeeeeerre!”

All we heard in reply was what sounded like the muffled voices of two people, as if they were calling from a great distance, but it sounded like there was somebody moving around just on the far side of the nearby treeline and they couldn’t have been greater than 100 yards away. More echoing shouts came from that area but were still indiscernible. It sounded like two people shouting at the same time.

Increasingly I became nervous, wondering who was moving around there, imagining backwoods creeps playing games with their victims. Here, at midnight, something was wrong I felt. For a short while we heard nothing. One of my friends went to his gear and retrieved the old Ruger Bearcat .22 revolver that his father given to him as a gift. “If someone wants to rush our camp, I’d like for us to be ready.” I nodded, feeling on edge.

“Hey, do you need help?” my cousin shouted again. In response came two voices shouting vaguely again, still sounding as distant as before. Before, they hand sounded like someone shouting words, even if we couldn’t quite make it them. Now, the shouts were loud and garbled, wordless shouts and baying noises. Someone was moving around out there. My girlfriend said what I was thinking, quietly “Who are these people, why are they here, messing around somebody’s camp, now?”

For the next half hour there was silence besides the fire and the nightlife. We sat on guard around our fire, straining to listen and during that stretch we heard no more shouting or footfalls. Resolving to put a .22 round in anybody that came barging into our circle.

Several minutes later we heard what sounded like people moving about only a short distance past the light cast by our fire, footfalls and the crackle of branches and leaves. Like somebody was staggering about at a brisk speed. A couple of us expected someone to step in to the light but nobody did. Suddenly it stopped. Not another voice was heard. No footfalls or crunching of grass or branches were heard which would indicate that whoever these people were had stepped towards our camp or departed in the opposite way.

All of us were nervous, especially with how the sounds of footsteps had just stopped instead of moving away. Certain that somebody was just watching us from off a ways and waiting for us to fall asleep, we managed to organize ourselves to sleep in shifts, at least two people to stay awake while the others slept in our tents. Wasn’t easy, especially with an odd numbered group but the rest of the night passed without incident.

In the morning, we gathered our gear and decided to leave, the appeal of being out in the woods having vanished in the night. What disturbed me was how far off the voices had sounded yet how closely the movements had come near us, and how they had disappeared. I was certain this was not just some people deciding to prank some campers or sneaking backwoodsmen having a good laugh.

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 This update is just to respond to a few comments from some people who are skeptical about my story.

The biggest criticism of my post was the fact that i was on drugs at the time, but i can easily explain how my story is still credible despite this. The drugs i were taking was MDMA. It is not a hallucinogenic drug like other drugs such as LSD and i, personally, have never experienced any strong hallucinations while taking it. I have taken hallucinogenic drugs like LSD and shrooms and the hallucinations i experienced were nothing like i saw on that night. Drug hallucinations aren’t detailed or cohesive, they are similar to a dream (where everything you experience completely lacks in detail because your brain cannot create that many fake details at once), whereas what i experienced was vivid and detailed. I still strongly remember every detail the beast: from its thick, black fur to its broad chest and its arms that were muscular at the biceps, but thin and scrawny at the forearm. What i saw was 100% real, whether i was on drugs or not.