I live on a large piece of land near the green river, specifically in Kentucky. 243 acres to be exact. But despite being so large, we only have so much to hunt, fish, and ride for wheelers on. There weren’t many roads or fields so we mostly used the place for hunting since the only pond we had was too small for bass so we used it for bluegill and sunfish.
So without any more explanation, let’s get right into the story.
I live on a large piece of land near the green river, specifically in Kentucky. 243 acres to be exact. But despite being so large, we only have so much to hunt, fish, and ride for wheelers on. There weren’t many roads or fields so we mostly used the place for hunting since the only pond we had was too small for bass so we used it for bluegill and sunfish. So without any more explanation, let’s get right into the story.
This took place when I was 15-17 years old. It was deer season, and since I had school we only went on weekends. This was the third so far, and I had only seen a doe. But of course, i shot her. So anyways, I was in a tree stand on the edge of the first field you get to on the logging road, it was almost night and I hadn’t seen anything but a few turkeys pass through to get water out of the small pond I was talking about earlier. I was leaving at this point due to boredom and doubt, that was until I heard a pack of coyotes howling down at the edge of the field. I got excited and grabbed my rifle, aiming in at the group but, there was only one. It was huge and oddly tall, loud as hell and sounded like a whole group. I thought this was weird but I continued to aim, slowly squeezing the trigger. And I will be serious when I say this, I will never feel another “GTFO” feeling like this again, the coyote looked directly at me, and I soon realized it was standing on its back legs. I almost screamed as I noticed it had ribs that hung out of its sides, and it’s eyes glew a bright yellow. And in a panic I fired at the creature, it let out a heart dripping scream as it began to charge towards me. Now, this field is about 260 feet long so I continued to fire. I stopped when I saw the creature drop. I let out a sigh of relief as I began to walk over to the body, but about half way there it stood up and ran off in another direction. I stared in amazement but soon snapped out of my trance and reloaded, I fired more but missed every shot do to its speed. Finally I felt safe as I saw headlights coming off the road. It was my dad, he said he heard my shots and thought I had gotten attacked by something so he came as soon as possible. I explained everything to him back at the cabin but of course, he never believed me. I finished the conversation off by saying these exact words, “bullets are expensive, why would I waste over 20 shells for a joke?” He told me some people are stupid, and went to bed. And that was all I ever saw of whatever that thing was. I did some research and I’ve come to the conclusion of it being a skinwalker. Whatever it is, next time I see it I’ll put even more shells into it’s ass.
(Hey everyone, Spades here – It was really awesome to see one of my stories end up in a video, and I’m hoping to maybe even do that again if I can write that well! Thank you for all the support. )
(This story was told to me by JakobLmao on Reddit, and will be told from his point of view from here forth.)
I’ve had a draft of this story set up for a while before I gained the courage to share it. It made me question… everything. My faith, my eyes, my friends, and worst of all, my sanity. I’ve decided it’s time to let someone else know about this, maybe that will help me move on… at least, that’s what I hope. For my sake, and maybe even yours.
This is a follow-up to my previous story where I had encountered a pale white hominid I couldn’t identify, well now I may have the answer to that.
A month or two ago in dumb horror movie teen fashion I had gotten mad at my Grandparents for something stupid, this time I thought they came too early to pick me up from work. I was furious because I still had a few hours left so I said I didn’t want a ride back. A few hours pass by and I start my several mile walk from work to home in the pitch dark on the main road. Things were good until I heard a strange demented bird-like call from the lake near the Villa. I didn’t see anything but I started to get a bad feeling until I got to the road that branches off and leads right to the Villa.
I kept walking and went over the bridge over the highway and continued further eventually walking downhill passing Shell Gas Station and the local General Store and down to the Allamuchy Elementary School. From there I turned left onto the road I’d usually walk to get home and when I did everything went unnaturally quiet and I started to get a feeling of dread. I turned back and turned left from where I just tried to walk and decided to go the more direct route. A few cars passed me by and I just kept walking, still feeling that really bad fear in my heart that caused me to change direction from my usual route.
I reached where the trees got thick making the road ahead appear blacker than ink.y instincts compelled me to stop and turn back and stay under a road light at the intersection by the School. Before I could turn back my sense of dread amplified ten fold when I saw a thin gaunt blacker than night figure dart between the trees to my right. Although brief I could see it’s hands were clawed and it’s legs were digitigrade and it’s body had some dog-like features but no fail. It bolted around from tree to tree without making a single sound or track whatsoever. I kept my calm despite what danger I was in because I finally knew what I was being stalked by.
The Navajo may disagree with historians on the Anasazi’s origins and departure (according to Navajo legend, they simply ‘disappeared’ from existence, leaving behind plates, dishes, and food, and went into another dimension or some equivalent) but, whatever the history, the Navajo do NOT like to wander in Anasazi ruins. I never asked why, but figured it had something to do with disrespect, preserving history, etc. As such, none of the others cared a bit about these canyon ruins. They were more interested in shooting pistols.
I could see old beds, ladders, and even cave drawings on the cliffs with my naked eye. And I got this strange fixation on going over there. I am not Navajo, and felt that their rules didn’t apply to me. I set off down the cliffs without rope and decided I would climb down, cross the canyon floor, and then climb back up. This was a bad idea for a million reasons, but it was like some obsession. I can’t explain the feeling. It was like magnetism. I wanted to be in those ruins and it wasn’t just some tourist-like curiosity. It felt like I was meant to go there. I kept slipping and getting stuck on the rocks, and I was so frustrated I almost started crying. Finally, I was deterred by the unmistakable sound of a growl coming from the canyon floor below me.
There were trees down there so I couldn’t see what was making the growl, but “mountain lion” immediately rose to mind and I got my ass back up the cliffside.
This happened at the start of January of 2018, when I was in 6th grade and 11 years old. I was a pretty average kid, I got A’s and B’s, and I had a few friends, one of which was my best friend, we’ll call him Collin. Collin lived about half an hour away from me, so I didn’t go to his house that often. When I did go to his house, we would always play in his woods. He had a good 3 acres of just forest and trees and creeks. There was also a good sized pond that we would go fishing in during the summer months. However, there was an abandoned house by the end of the property. It was a normal house, two floors. It had been abandoned in the 1960s, according to Collin. Since the 1970s teenagers had been partying in it and had trashed it. Collin’s eldest sister, Anna, who was 26 at the time of writing, used to party in it as well, but she stopped sometime before Collin was born for reasons she would not say. The one time we told her we were going, she FREAKED OUT. She told us that we should stay away from that place at all costs and NEVER go inside, especially not in the basement. We just thought she was talking about drugs or alcohol, but we were wrong. So wrong.
I had taken the bus over to Collin’s house on Friday, and I stayed the night, with plans to explore the abandoned house the next morning. When we woke up, we put our orange vests and paintball masks on, so that we would be easy to find. We took a Gator (that kind of pickup truck ATV you see at farms) to the end of the trail, that I noticed eventually began to get paved.
To start this off. I want to clarify that I am not a believer in the paranormal. At least I wasn’t until December 23, 2018.
I grew up in a Christian household. God has always had an impact in my life. I never believed in monsters or anything of that sort for the longest time.
That was until I moved to Arizona.
My friends here always told me not to say Skinwalker out loud. Always to refer to them as SWs. I of course laughed it off jokingly and said it anyways. Which made them mad. I didn’t realize why it made them so angry. Until that night.
When I asked what are the physical capabilities of a skinwalker, this is one of the answers I got from user Props_angel about 2 years ago:
“From everything that I was told by a significant number of firsthand accounts, they are faster than a human while running (max speed for the accounts that I heard from Navajo was 35-40 mph). They also are very good at jumping onto rooftops from driveways (think older ranch so we’re not talking a home with vaulted ceilings). They can see exceptionally well in the dark.
First off, discard the idea of a lone skin-walker. Skin-walkers are like the raptors from Jurassic Park. You see one, you know there are more around you that you can’t see. So it would be a squad of soldiers against a coven of witches.
With that said, I once got in a hypothetical question after I found out that there was a skin-walker cave that I could potentially investigate if I chose to hike up a butte. I wanted to go. The Navajo man I was with refused. Hence the hypothetical conversation as to “What would it take to survive walking into a skin-walker cave?” He said that SWAT would probably get their butts handed to them as we’re talking very unconventional warfare.
Some may not believe my story and I understand that but at least hear me out before you close your mind. I will not say my name, where I live or my friend’s name for privacy and that but I will say where we lived was a well-populated area with street lights, shining on the streets.
This takes place in New Zealand at my friend’s house where I was for a sleepover. We don’t really keep in touch anymore as we’re going our separate ways and go to different high schools. Let’s just say the supernatural just loves me so when weird stuff happens I’m just used to it but always got a good story up my sleeve.
I was young, not too young to imagine this as well as my friend who can back up this experience that occurred. So my friend and I were both around eleven or twelve at the time this was taking place. We were both really good friends and loved to hang out with each other. In the end, both of us agreed to go to her house for a sleepover. Her house was a one-story house where the lounge, dining table and kitchen are basically all one room while the rooms where another section of the house. So I grabbed my stuff after school on a Friday, I assume, and we went to her house for the sleepover. This was probably in the late spring of November or early summer of December as I live in the southern hemisphere so don’t get confused.