Let me start by saying, I apologize for how long this story is, but I wanted to put in every detail I could remember.
This is the story of mine and my brother’s potential encounter with a satanic cult. Let me start this off by saying I’ve lived in the country my entire life. I spend a lot of time in the woods, mainly hunting deer and coyote. I live in southern Ohio with my father and younger brother, about 40 miles to the east of Cincinnati, and about 4 miles north of the Ohio River. The closest town to us is about 10 minutes away, but this is still an extremely rural area. We live in a small house on a backroad that dosent get very much traffic, which is strange considering the road is right off of a State Route (State Route 505). There’s also a few large farms with lots of big fields in my area. Down the road from my house is a dead end gravel road called Marriott road. Nothing on it besides a couple houses, it’s pretty much just a big driveway.
Further down from that is a popular swimming hole that my brother and my friends have always just called “Bullskin creek.” The place is absolutely beautiful in the summertime, and my buddy, who had a lifted Jeep Cherokee, and I, who had a lifted Ford Ranger at the time, would always go down there and drive through the shallow part of the creek. The only downsides to this place was that people would always dump old garbage there. Couches, mattresses, televisions, you name it. The other was something more unsettling, which I’ll get into later.
At the time this happened, my younger brother was still in high school, and I had just graduated. My father worked 3rd shift at GE in a suburb of Cincinnati, so he was always gone at night. I worked a part time 2nd shift job at a local Kroger, from 3-11 at night, depending on what got done before I got there. One night, in the middle of June of 2015 I had gotten off work at 1 in the morning. I had a 30 minute drive from work back to home ahead of me, and I had the next day off so I wasn’t in a rush.
I went into the employee restroom to change out of my uniform shirt back into my flannel shirt, and went to go buy a Monster and a can of dipping tobacco and a pack of cigarettes. As I was walking out to my truck, my phone started ringing. I pulled it out and saw that my brother was calling me. I answered and I could barely understand what he was saying. He was breathing heavily and was speaking in almost complete jibberish. I told him “Bro, calm down. I can’t understand a damn word you’re saying.” He told me that him and our friends ( we’ll call them John and Deymin), had just gotten back from Bullskin. They had decided to have a fire and drink a couple beers and smoke some cigarettes. He told me they had taken John’s Ram truck back there and parked by the creekbed and got a fire going.
He told me to get home as quickly as I could and that it was an emergency. I could hear John and Deymin talking in the background. I made the drive home in no time at all, even though it felt like an eternity. Wondering the whole way home just exactly what the fuck was going on. Ok, remember how earlier I mentioned that there was a couple bad things about Bullskin? Well, the other one was that when I was a kid, there was a young orphan who was murdered by his foster parents. They tied him up and locked him in a closet for days while they went out of town. Marriott road is where the police found the kid’s burned corpse.
I got home and walked in, it was about 1:20 in the morning. I saw my brother, John, and Deymin sitting in the living room, all pale as death. John was clutching his crossbow that he kept in the back of his truck, and Deymin was gripping a large pipe wrench, also from inside John’s truck. I asked what happened, and my brother stood up and told me that while they were having their fire, they heard screaming off in the woods, in the direction of Marriott Road, where Marcus Fiesels body was found. I told him that it was probably just a pack of coyote and that they were probably just blowing it out of proportion, but before I could finish that sentence he cut me off and said they went to go check it out.
My brother was the only one who wasn’t buzzed at the time, so they all jumped into John’s truck and drove onto my road to get to Marriott. He told me they got halfway down the road and they heard the screaming again. He told John to aim his flood light in the direction of the screaming, and when he did, they said they saw 4 people dressed in black cloaks standing about 30 feet from the road off in the woods. They then told me that my brother threw the truck into reverse, backed into a small clearing and gunned it out of there.
They were obviously scared shitless, and wouldn’t leave the house. So I told them I’d go check it out and that I would be back in 2 shakes of a rabbit’s tail. I went into my room and grabbed my AR15, just to be safe, got into my Ranger and headed that way. Once I pulled onto Marriott, I almost instantly had a pretty uneasy feeling. I got to the spot where they said they saw the people standing in the woods. Looking off into the woods, I could clearly see a large fire, about 100 yards out. I sat and watched for a couple minutes, just assuming it was a couple of campers who let their fire get too big.
And that’s when I heard the screaming. It was an ear piercing scream, almost loud enough to make your ears bleed. It went on for a good 5 seconds before it turned into more of a murderous howl than a scream, and at the same time, it sounded like there was more than one howl. After it stopped I heard what I knew for a fact was a deer, screaming loudly. I didn’t know what the fuck was going on, but I wasn’t gonna stick around and find out.
When I got back to the house I told them what I had seen and heard. None of us slept that night. The next day, my brother and I drove back there at around noon, to see if we could find anything that would tell us what was going on. We knew it was private property, but we didn’t care at the time. We walked to where I saw the fire, and there was a large fidelity dug out in the ground, with embers still glowing red. Off to the side was a dead buck. It had been cut open, and it’s guts spilled. We got out and left as quick as we could after that. I haven’t been back there since, and I probably never will.