Appalachian Mountain Wendigo

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It was an early monday morning, cold, and crisp. I had just begun to pack up for a week long hunting trip. I had the tent and the bear traps packed into the back of the truck and tied down with a couple bungie cords.

I began the long drive at around 7 AM, in order to get to our usual spot. My friend Clyde decided to tag along this time. It wasnt unusual for him to be interested in hunting, but this time he said something that I will always remember: “Can I go with you this time? Be a shame if you went alone and never came back.” He did sound confident in his words, but he was my best friend, i couldnt say no.

We stopped for a little snack at the base of the mountains at a small gas station. There was an old man sitting outside in a rocking chair, and he must have overheard me talking about the trip, as he also saw me in my camo and hunters orange. He said something that shook me to my core: “You’d better be careful up on those mountains. Its about time for the Wendigo to come out.” Being me, a nonbeliever in mountain folk lore and horror stories, I had brushed off the warning. Little did I know the trip would indeed be cut short, due to an encounter I will never forget.

It was almost 6 PM, and Clyde had turned on the radio. There was a rapid decline in Grizzly bear population about this time of year, every year. I had asked Clyde if we should be worried, and he said not to worry about the Grizzlies, as we were about go set up traps. I nodded my head in agreement and sighed a shaky sigh.

It was 8PM now, and the sun was going down. I grabbed a flashlight and headed down the trail with my friend Clyde. We had walkie talkies to stat in touch over long distances, incase we got seperated. They were for emergencies only, but we would occasionally use them to joke around. I had come to a small opening in between two bushes, and decided to set a trap there. I covered it up with branches and leaves and marked it with a stick standing up out of the ground for extra precaution.

On my trek to meet up with Clyde, I heard something, almost like a scratching noise, coming from my left side. I shined my light over to the side to see what it was. The noise had stopped when the light flashed over the area. I walked closer to investigate and found four, long scratches into a tree. Each of them were about an inch deep and a foot and a half long. I brushed off any ideas, and just went with the old bear story.

About thirty minuted into the walk I heard a distant screech, not much of a screech as it was a roar. It sounded like ymthe squealing breaks of a freight train, mixed with the growl of a dinosaur.

My radio came alive with Clydes voice. “Did you hear that?” He asked. His voice sounded shaky, he sounded scared. I decided to tell him to meet back up at camp.

Later that night I told him that I was going to go check the traps, as a routine hunter would do.

It was about midnight now, and visibility was low due to the snow fall and darkness. I had come up to the trap that I had set earlier, nothing seemed wrong, but the trap wasnt there. It was everywhere. It was ripped in half, the bolts and springs were lying everywhere, and the leaves and branches were scattered.

To the right of the trap was a game trail, about 30 feet from the field. I had shown my light over there, as i heard rustling leaves. What I saw will forever give me nightmares.

It was a tall, 8 foot humanoid creature, with long claws the size of my forearm. Each breath it took was heard from my position, 30 feet away. It growled at me and began to slowly get down on all fours. Its limbs began to pop and crack into place as it leaned its body against a tree. It slowly made its way back into the brush line, leaving me alone. Or so I thought.

My light began to flicker, and as it did, the creature must have become agitated. It began to speedwalk towards me, each stride covering 5 feet in length. It outstretched its arms towards me, the high pitched screech I heard before, I heard again, and the creature stopped, 6 feet infront of me. It opened its wide jaws as it found no interest in the screech, slowly getting closer. Then I heard Clydes voice from about 40 feet behind me, calling my name. I had never felt so relieve in my life. His approaching flashlight had caused the creature to return to the woods with an evil hiss, etching itself into my mind forever.

We got back to the camp, and I had tried to convince Clyde about how I saw the “Wendigo”, but all he did was laugh. He didn’t believe in any supernatural entities ir creatures, and he said he wouldn’t start now. I finally convinced him to pack up our things and leave, and when I got back home, I just stood on my porch and waved bye to Clyde, and I suddenly felt like I was being watched. I stared into the woods across the road and saw it once more, standing there, staring at me.

It shortly went back into the woods, and I never saw it after that, though I do hear the screech from time to time. To this day I don’t tell anyone else about it, afraid that they wouldn’t believe me. I never went back up to those mountains after that night.

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Considering how aggressive that thing is, you’re lucky that you had a friend with you. I live in a state that contains part of the mountain range. Luckily, I’m in a city