Just Creepy: Scary Stories
4 True Scary BIGFOOT Encounters That Will Give You Chills | Sasquatch Encounters, Deep Woods, Forest
Fri, 21 Mar 2025
These are 4 True Scary BIGFOOT Encounters That Will Give You Chills | Sasquatch Encounters, Deep Woods, ForestLinktree: https://linktr.ee/its_just_creepyStory Credits:►Sent in to https://www.justcreepy.net/Timestamps:00:00 Intro00:00:18 Story 100:15:41 Story 200:32:37 Story 300:47:47 Story 4Music by:► Myuu's channelhttp://bit.ly/1k1g4ey ►CO.AG Musichttp://bit.ly/2f9WQpeBusiness inquiries: ►[email protected]#scarystories #horrorstories #bigfoot #deepwoods 💀As always, thanks for watching! 💀
Chapter 1: What ordinary place led to an extraordinary encounter?
I used to think my parents' place was the epitome of ordinary, cookie-cutter neighborhood at the base of some foothills, complete with a neat little fence and a paved driveway. But everything shifted once I found that obscure path just off the canyon road.
Chapter 2: What unsettling sounds were heard in the woods?
It's hidden behind a thin screen of trees, and the sign is either so faded or small that most people wouldn't notice it even if they were looking. i stumbled across it thanks to a hunch and a friend's random tip and on the day i decided to explore it with a buddy from the lost creek expeditions well that was the afternoon everything changed we parked near the bend in the road and got out
The chill in the air smelled like wet earth and leaf rot, which made sense because the entire slope was drenched in melting snow. The moment we stepped onto the gravel, two sharp cracks echoed through the trunks. My friend froze, glancing at me with a, did you do that, expression. I shook my head.
It was definitely coming from deeper in the trees, although the idea of random branches snapping on their own crossed my mind. I tried to laugh it off, but it felt forced.
it was the first spark of suspicion that something or some one was aware we had arrived the trail itself was a sloppy mess coated with slush and fresh mud each step made an ugly squelching noise that shattered any semblance of silence the canopy overhead was so thick most of the day's light got swallowed before it touched the ground it was like entering a tunnel of shadows
We picked our way along carefully, occasionally slipping. We only made it a few hundred feet when another pair of cracks rang out, sharper than the ones by the car. My friend threw me a nervous smile, and I tried to shrug like it was normal. On the inside, I was rattled. The knocks felt deliberate, spaced just right, almost like signals or warnings. We kept moving.
telling each other we were just being paranoid. Sure, it's a remote trail. Sure, it looks spooky. Could be normal forest sounds, right? Except the deeper we went, the heavier the atmosphere became, like someone had draped a wet blanket over everything. My friend pointed out how odd it was that we hadn't seen a single squirrel, bird, or even a random chipmunk.
By this point, I was seriously wondering if we'd wandered into a section of woods that didn't appreciate visitors. Eventually, we reached a point where the path leveled off, and we found a small clearing. It was probably the only spot along that stretch of trail where daylight actually made it through the branches.
My friend wanted to stop for a snack, so we hunkered down on an old fallen log, only half focused on the granola bars in our hands. My ears kept straining to catch even the faintest noise. That's when a third set of knocks rattled the air from somewhere up the slope. I remember locking eyes with my friend. At that moment, there was no more kidding around. We knew we weren't imagining it.
Despite the growing tension, we decided to wrap up the snack break and head back. Neither of us openly admitted being uneasy, but the walk down felt much faster than the hike up. When we finally made it to the car, the weird sense of relief washed over me so hard I actually paused to catch my breath.
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Chapter 3: What strange structures were found on the trail?
no random pile of dead wood could pull that off against my better judgment i whipped out my phone and snapped a few photos my breath caught in my throat there was an unmistakable pressure in the air like i was being watched from just outside my field of vision You know that feeling when the hairs on your neck stand up? Multiply that by ten.
I hurried back down the trail faster than I should have, half slipping in the mud, convinced I might catch a glimpse of something darting through the trees. The next day, I must have been half out of my mind, because I went up again to see if any fresh clues were waiting. At first, it seemed normal, or as normal as that place can feel.
But once I was near the base of the trail, I nearly puked when I saw it. A deer carcass, or what was left of it. The skull was mostly intact, still attached to part of the spine, but the legs looked snapped, twisted. No scattering of fur or signs of a typical animal kill, either. It was like it had been dropped there, right where I couldn't miss it.
A jolt of horror flooded my system so fast my knees almost buckled. I remember standing there, trying to wrap my head around it, when a single notion took hold. This was left for me, because of the pictures. That was the instant I decided never to bring a camera up there again. It felt like crossing a line, as if I'd disrespected something that didn't appreciate prying eyes.
Word of my experiences must have gotten around, because a friend who was skeptical about the whole thing pestered me to let him tag along. We went at dusk, and the knock started up almost on cue. By the time we got halfway, a series of sharp clacks echoed so loudly, you'd swear someone was whacking a tree trunk right beside us. My friend's confidence evaporated.
We walked out of there in a hurry, each step mirrored by faint crunches in the undergrowth. Neither of us dared look back. I made it a personal rule. No more cameras, no more inviting people to witness it, unless they're truly prepared. The idea that I was treading on sacred ground, someone else's territory, gnawed at me constantly.
Every time I ventured back, I felt a swirl of excitement and dread. Something out there was watching, maybe testing me. And after that deer skeleton incident, I wasn't eager to push any further than I had to. I wish I could say I stayed away, but that would be a lie. It's like this place has a pulse of its own and it's synced with my curiosity, dragging me back whenever I try to ignore it.
At this point, I know it's only a matter of time before something big happens, something impossible to dismiss or rationalize. Yet part of me keeps coming back for more, in spite of the warning signs piling up like stacked bones. And that, I guess, is where caution ends and obsession begins. I don't know why I kept testing my luck on that trail, but I guess part of me needed closure.
Something told me the story wasn't finished, so when I heard about the second structure, it was like an invisible force tugging me back. The first one, a teepee of sticks under that warped tree, was shocking enough, but my friend claimed to have spotted another, bigger construction further up, near a grove of aspens that had been bent almost into an arch.
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Chapter 4: What happened during the night in Grayland?
The second I stepped beyond the tree line, the campground lights and that tiny thread of comfort they offered vanished behind me. It was as though I'd walked into a different reality, one where the wind seemed louder and the darkness felt tangible, like it had weight. I kept my hands stretched out in front of me, trying to avoid slamming into a trunk, but my breath still caught at every near miss.
Each shuffle forward was a calculated gamble. The path underfoot was uneven, and I had zero sense of how far I'd come. Despite knowing I just had to continue west, I soon lost all sense of direction. In theory, if I kept moving I'd stumble onto the shore eventually.
instead i found myself trudging in circles spooked by the sensation that the trees were closing in my arms brushed rough bark tangles of branches snagged my clothing and the roar of the wind overhead drowned out any hints that might have helped me navigate When I finally emerged from that labyrinth of twisted foliage, relief flooded me.
Until I realized the landmarks I'd counted on spotting, my weird rock and that little post with the streamer weren't there. My eyes darted across the moonlit sand, looking for anything familiar, but the beach stretched on emptily. Salt-scented gusts lashed against me, making it impossible to see much of anything.
frustrated i inched back into the woods flipping on my phone screen for a feeble glow that light barely reached a few steps ahead revealing only a tangle of wet ferns and shadows at one point something off in the distance made a noise a low resonant call that rose above the wind oddly stretched and loud it could have been my mind twisting normal forest sounds into something ominous but it sent a surge of alarm through my body anyway
I told myself it was an owl or maybe a coyote, but even I didn't believe it. It didn't have the trademark yip or screech. This was... different. A drawn-out tone that felt impossible to ignore. I crept forward, trying to keep calm. My feet rooted in place whenever I heard a rustle or detected a flicker of movement in my peripheral vision. As the seconds dragged on, I noticed a pungent odor.
Damp and somehow animalistic.
the wind couldn't carry it away fast enough it gnawed at the edges of my thinking fueling the idea that something far larger than an owl was lurking beyond my flashlight's pitiful radius then i heard the same unnerving sound again but this time it reverberated from behind me closer than before it was a low wavering moan that crescendoed in a way i couldn't have imagined an ordinary creature producing
my chest felt tight with a surge of adrenaline i stumbled forward in a desperate attempt to get out of there tangling my foot on an exposed root my shoulder smacked against a trunk and pain jolted down my arm but i refused to stop My only plan was to keep moving until I reached the beach or open ground. Somewhere I could see whatever was out there.
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Chapter 5: What eerie experiences did the narrator encounter at the beach?
When the waitress asked if I was okay, I managed to half-smile and said something like, Long night. She nodded like she'd heard it all before. A couple old-timers at the counter kept glancing over, probably picking up on my rattled vibe. Eventually, I summoned the nerve to ask them if they'd ever heard weird noises in the Grayland area. Their eyes flickered with a hint of recognition.
One said he'd heard all sorts of stories, sightings of large ape-like figures near the dunes, strange howls at odd hours. The other shrugged, calling them tall tales, but his mouth set in a way that said he wasn't entirely convinced of that.
later after i'd changed into dry clothes and recharged my phone i typed in every search term i could think of grayland screech bigfoot calls westport forest noises the audio clips i found those alleged bigfoot whoops or howls sent a jolt straight through me some had the same weird resonant pitch i'd heard piercing the wind the night before my throat went tight just listening to them
i can't say with one hundred per cent certainty what chased me through those tangled trees or if anything literally followed me at all but when i think back on that searing cry on those footprints in the damp sand and on the acrid smell that clung to the air i can't deny something was out there something bigger and stranger than a mere owl or deer by the time i finally found a bus back toward olympia the morning sun had grown strong casting long rays over the highway
I should have felt more at ease, but I realized I was still shaking. I kept replaying the night in my head. If I'd made one wrong move, taken one bad tumble, I might have still been out there, huddled in the dark with... whatever that thing was. Even now, safe at home and scrolling through internet forums, I can't shake the feeling that I glimpsed another side of that rugged Washington coastline.
a side that rarely meets human eyes sure i walked away rattled but i walked away all the same which is more than i can say for some folks who've vanished in thick forests and never shown up again i didn't get the grand surf adventure i'd hoped for and i doubt i'll be heading back to those dunes any time soon
Still, that memory of hearing that unearthly cry slicing through the howling wind, the trackway in the sand, and the sense of a presence lurking in the gloom has carved itself into my story forever. It's a reminder that sometimes, out on the edges of the map, you're a guest in someone else's realm, and you don't always see your host until it's far too late.
I remember the heat pressing down like a weight that afternoon, making every breath feel thick. My friend and I had set out for a casual hike a few miles from downtown Salt Lake City, figuring we'd escape the traffic noise and chaos for a while.
The trail was narrow, weaving through dense undergrowth that tugged at our clothes, and we hadn't been walking long before sweat started trickling into our eyes. We finally stopped in a small clearing, where clusters of tall firs stood close enough to form a canopy overhead. I squinted at them, noticing how some trunks seemed angled against each other, almost like a teepee.
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Chapter 6: What conclusion did the narrator draw from the experiences?
Anybody there? My friend was already on his feet, pushing aside low-hanging branches to get a better look. No response. It was eerie how fast everything returned to total silence. We inched forward, scanning the area for footprints or broken limbs. The only clue we found was a wide depression in the thick layer of needles, a single mark, deeper and larger than the shape of my size 11 sandals.
We strained our ears, hoping for a second crash or at least the sound of something stomping away. Nothing. The forest around us seemed emptied of life. With the hairs on my arms prickling, I tried to rationalize it. Maybe a stray hiker in an odd costume, or a shadow playing tricks on me. But my gut told me we'd crossed paths with something else.
Despite the unease creeping through my body, we decided to keep moving. The trail ahead felt safer than lingering in that strange, silent pocket. I remember glancing back every few steps, half expecting that hairy figure to appear again. It never did.
But from that moment on, the simple day hike I'd planned turned into a slow walk with my senses on high alert, always waiting for another crash in the undergrowth. Over the next few days, I found it almost impossible to focus on everyday life.
My mind kept drifting back to that strange figure slipping through the furs, the odd print in the needles, and the question of what, or who, was lurking out there. Every time I tried to dismiss it, I'd remember how intense that moment felt and get that uneasy twist in my stomach all over again. It wasn't something I could write off as a trick of the light or a fleeting shadow.
Finally, my friend and I agreed we had to head back. I wasn't about to do it alone, so we brought along two more people who were up for the challenge. They were both skeptics at first, rolling their eyes when we mentioned fur and footprints, but once we described how massive that impression was, and how quickly the figure had vanished, they got quiet.
We stocked up on extra supplies, strong flashlights, fully charged phones for video, and a firm resolution that this time, we'd be prepared for whatever we might find. We started early in the morning, hoping to reach the tree formation before the midday sun turned the trail into an oven. The four of us hiked in a line, maneuvering through dense brush like it was some uncharted terrain.
Conversation was minimal. We'd crack small jokes here and there, but there was this underlying nervous energy, like we all suspected something was off and didn't want to jinx it by talking too much. Eventually, we reached the spot where we'd rested on the previous trip, the clearing with the bizarre teepee configuration.
It looked different somehow, like the branches had shifted or more had been added. I couldn't help but wonder if something had returned to rearrange them. They were large, twisted limbs, not something you'd expect to be thrown together on a whim. The silence around us felt thick. like the atmosphere itself was warning us that this place wasn't ours to linger in.
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