Scary SKINWALKER Stories For A Sleepless Night
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What is the main topic discussed in this episode?
I'm writing this because I don't want anyone telling me I imagined it. I know what I saw, and I know what it tried to do. This happened in late October on a stretch of forest road along a high ridge I've walked a dozen times. It's an old logging road that drops into dark pines, then crosses a creek and climbs to a broken fire lookout base. I go there to tire out my dog, Rook, who's a 60-pound shepherd mix with a good nose and a calm head. He's scared of fireworks, but not much else. That afternoon the sky was flat and gray with a weak sun pushing through. It felt like the woods were waiting for snow, even though it was still fall. I figured two hours out and back, home by dinner. I parked at a wide pullout with a gate across the road.
There were no other cars. Rook did his usual happy circles at the tailgate while I clipped his harness and the 20-foot line I use when we hike. I had a small pack with water, a first aid kit, a headlamp, bear spray, and a cheap folding knife. Nothing heroic, just the normal stuff. It was quiet in a way that makes your ears ring.
What happens at the ridge when a hiker and his dog encounter strange bones and a voice?
Even the usual chickadee chatter wasn't there. I noticed it, then told myself the cold front had pushed the birds down. We started walking. For a while it was just boots on gravel and the sound of rook breathing. The roadbed cut between tall, straight pines with long lines of shadow in every direction. Ten minutes in, Rook lifted his head and tasted the air. His tail went low. He didn't bark. He rarely does. But the leash got tight as he leaned to the right, toward the thicker stuff. I stopped and listened. All I heard was wind moving high in the trees and one tree creaking. I waited until Rook quit staring and we kept on. The first weird thing was hanging over the road at shoulder height, a string tied between two saplings with a white shape dangling in the middle.
I thought it was a piece of trash until I got close. It was a deer scapula, drilled or punched through and threaded on the line like a tag. There were three small bird bones tied beside it. I'm not a superstitious person, but that felt wrong. I didn't touch it. I led Rook around it off the side of the road and kept moving, telling myself some hunter did it and forgot it, or a kid playing a joke. Rook kept looking back over his shoulder in that way dogs have when they want to make sure you see what they see. Past the creek crossing the road narrowed and started to climb. Here the trees grow tighter and the ground is a patchwork of duff, exposed roots, and black volcanic rock. The air had that cold metal smell you get before a storm.
This was where I heard the first voice. It came from the slope below us, not far, like someone standing in the trees just off the road. It said, hey, in a flat, calm tone. Just that one word. I stopped so fast Rook bumped my leg. Hello? I called back. No answer. I stood there another 10 seconds, listening hard. Nothing moved. Rook turned his head left and right and then looked up at me for instruction. I didn't want to look rattled, so I said, let's go, and we kept climbing. A couple of minutes later, the same voice said, hey, again, this time from above us, like whoever it was had moved ahead. The hair went up on the back of my neck. Rook gave a low sound, not a growl, more like air forcing through his nose.
I could feel him tremble through the leash. I called out again, louder. You need help? I've got a dog with me. Nothing. I scanned the slope with my eyes. It's hard to explain, but it felt as if the trees were posed, like they were hiding someone on purpose. I told myself it was just the wind and the lack of birds making me anxious. We kept going until the old turnout opened on our left, a bald spot of dirt where trucks must have turned around back when the lookout still stood, ringed by stumps, a good place to throw a ball for your dog. I always stopped there to let Rook run. He wouldn't go. He planted his feet and leaned against the leash so hard the harness creaked. His ears were back and his lips were tight.
I squatted and scratched under his collar and felt his heart hammering.
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Chapters
4 chapters
1
What is the main topic discussed in this episode?
0:15–1:24
2
What happens at the ridge when a hiker and his dog encounter strange bones and a voice?
1:24–22:16
3
How did the creature mimic Rook’s name and escalate the threat on the fire lookout road?
22:16–36:35
4
What immediate actions did the narrator take to escape the skinwalker-like entity?
36:35–1:00:25
Speakers
1 identifiedMore from Just Creepy: Scary Stories
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