What if it's True Podcast

Archive 249 Dogman and Bigfoot

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Archive 248 Steve Lilly Killing Bigfoot in Georgia

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Archive 247 Ohio Dogman and Other Horror Stories

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Archive 246 Bigfoot Stories

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Archive 245 Paranormal

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Archive 244 Killing the Wendigo

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Archive 243 Bigfoot Stories

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Archive 242 Bigfoot Stories

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Paranormal Bedtime Stories - Book 1

https://www.amazon.com/Paranormal-Bedtime-Stories-Collection-Supernatural/dp/B0BPVR1JNB/ref=sr_1_1?crid=1RYNTK0VIJ0PJ&dib=eyJ2IjoiMSJ9.yrsG-KmWQyxIq0sEHNGD-GQneKk6WVWRCACkRZ8zDZCyIyz00apBA_hgMs9TNr4LSXsFo6bJ3jbqKU83aTw7NcUvh0cglzgyIm_hham88q2d8uj17itwidjbVc23oSyMSaNIOTDbiEjtAam87x1a_ay9FdJvv4Xd5wk3Emt6-n9dj5uDW_R2Fh_QIWPS8aIlb06td1UTVXlngxioCGHeOr4g4J86ybgh40byIY33FzQ.btbe3AnjePE-w8NqAOoUxZd_tZcoYWGExno5hp_lgdg&dib_tag=se&keywords=Todd+Chapman&qid=1778948157&sprefix=todd+chapman%2Caps%2C160&sr=8-1

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Black Panter Taken in West Tennessee

A West Tennessee man describes how the local general store served as a gathering place for farmers, where serious stories were sometimes told about mysterious dangers in the woods, including a black panther. One man, Mr. Don, shares a frightening account of seeing a large black animal attack a deer and hearing terrifying screams afterward. Later, the narrator and his friends hear the same kind of scream and see a fast-moving black creature near The Elbow, causing them to flee in fear. The next day, the boys are warned by the town’s men to stay away from the area for over a week while they “take care of” something. When they are finally allowed back, no one explains what happened, and the boys choose not to ask.


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Texas Man Chases The Chupacabra

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A Texas Musician who grew up hunting in rural Oklahoma and considers himself hard to scare, describes two strange encounters in Texas. The first happened in July 2015 in DeWitt County while he was driving his young son and daughter on a quiet gravel road near an overgrown creek. A bipedal creature stepped out of tall grass about 40 yards ahead—mottled gray with sparse bristly hair, a long snout and tall ears like a kangaroo, and tiny arms held close to its body. It moved with an awkward wobbling gait and crossed into the grass without reacting to the vehicle. He briefly grabbed his pistol and started after it for a closer look, but stopped when he realized his kids were alone in the car and he didn’t know how the animal might behave.He believes the first animal was a real, physical creature—possibly a mutation or escaped exotic animal—neither aggressive nor afraid, and maybe increasing in number as development pushes wildlife around. His second encounter came in February 2019 after leaving a late-night performance at Luckenbach near Fredericksburg. Driving home around 2 a.m., his headlights caught two huge pale-yellow eyes about ten feet above the road at the treeline by a creek. The figure moved, revealing a massive, dark-haired, humanoid form with no visible neck and unusually long arms; it then dropped lower into the brush while watching him pass. Chris kept his speed steady out of fear it might react, then accelerated once he’d put distance between them, and later returned in daylight but found nothing that could explain what he saw.

Bigfoot Dragged Her Through the Window

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In 1996, Roger—an all‑around skeptic and professional scientist—reconnected with a former college roommate who belonged to a ghost‑hunting club and invited him on an overnight hunt at Beaver Creek State Park in Ohio. Roger joined the group in a remote, heavily wooded area known among enthusiasts for supposed hauntings. After setting up camp, they compared equipment and methods: an EMF meter, digital thermometer for “cold spots,” Polaroid and electronic cameras for “orbs,” an expensive infrared video camera, and an EVP recorder that might capture voices in white noise (which skeptics attribute to pareidolia). The group even encountered a Bigfoot hunter who exchanged business cards with them, prompting good‑natured jokes about how each group probably seemed ridiculous to the other. Once darkness fell, the ghost hunters visited several rumored hotspots—old canal locks and other locations tied to local legends—navigating in near total darkness, where Roger narrowly avoided stepping off an unseen drop at an abandoned lock. After more fruitless searching (including attempts to provoke the spirit of Pretty Boy Floyd), the night finally turned strange at a cemetery with dozens of graves dating back to the 1800s. Using the infrared camera, the group observed bright, rubber‑band‑shaped forms hovering above them, expanding and contracting, then diving into grave mounds or headstones and disappearing, while others seemed to emerge and drift along. Roger couldn’t explain what he saw, and the group watched for about half an hour before returning to camp around 3 a.m.; years later, Roger remains mystified by that inexplicable display.

It Reached Out and Touched His Face

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In the fall of 1993 near Columbiana, Ohio, 19-year-old engineer Ray and a friend were creep-hunting raccoons on a clear, full-moon night without dogs. After splitting up to cover more ground, Ray sat down to rest on a steep hill, quickly falling into a deep sleep for three hours. He awoke disoriented, then continued through the beautiful moonlit woods until he climbed another hill and froze at the sight of a massive bipedal creature silhouetted against the sky on the ridge above, swaying back and forth in apparent agitation. For ten tense minutes the two stared at each other at about 40 yards; Ray considered shining his light or firing his .22 rifle but ultimately held still, sensing the creature’s overwhelming size made any attack futile. The being paralleled him for roughly a mile along the ridge as he followed a winding creek, until it vanished from view. Moments later, something very close rumbled and a rough, leathery hand wiped across his face and neck, triggering raw panic. Ray ran until he collapsed exhausted in a ditch beside a gravel road. His worried friend soon found him in a truck around 3:45 a.m. Ray never told him the full story, claiming only that he had fallen asleep and gotten lost. He never hunted in the woods again for the next 33 years.

Paranormal Bedtime Stories

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I used to live in an old house in the country, in a community called China Grove, Mississippi, off of old Highway 24. There was a particular stretch of Old 24 where I always felt like I was being watched. On the weekends, when walking that road to my cousins' house, I could hear something following me from the woods. When I'd stop, it would stop. When I went on, it did too. When I ran, it ran. 
This went on for a couple of weeks, and when I told my cousin, he brushed it off, telling me it was a deer or something. I invited him to come over to my house, hoping we'd hear it again, and, seeing I was bothered, he obliged. At first, we didn't hear anything, and when we did, he was still convinced it was a deer. I asked him things like, 'Why would a deer follow a person?' and of course, he couldn’t come up with a good explanation. 
One bright Saturday morning in 1990, that same unconvinced cousin came to my house and woke me up. I got dressed, and we went on a walk toward the neighboring town. We stopped to take a break when I looked over his shoulder and saw what I thought was a man looking around the ground for something, dressed in a strange outfit and moving about in a weird way. I bumped my cousin, who turned and stared as this strange man shot behind a tall bush. My cousin told me it was just a hunter when the man swiftly hopped closer to another bush, crouched behind it for a moment, then stood up, holding his long arms out to his sides. The morning sun was shining through what reminded me of orangutan fur, draping from them. 
I realized, all too quickly, that it was no man. It was a Sasquatch. He held his gaze on us, then angrily approached, swinging his arms and effortlessly clearing bushes and small trees. We couldn't move at first, both of us in shock. I managed a deep breath and ran fast as I could, realizing that I'd left my cousin standing there in shock, staring. I spun and yelled his name, and he snapped to, shooting past me in a blur. My muscles burned from the fright. I was too scared to look behind me, and charged the rest of the way as fast as I could. 

A Strange Bigfoot Event in Colorado

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The family embarked on an elk hunting trip in Colorado, but the first couple of days passed without spotting any game, which was unusual given the typical presence of deer in the area. On the second evening, the brothers split up to scout different sides of the mountain. The youngest brother drove up an old logging road to pick up the nephews and encountered a line of rocks blocking the path. After moving some aside and continuing, he found even larger rocks had been placed in his way on the return trip. While clearing them, one of the nephews pointed out what appeared to be a "hairy elk" behind a tree. It turned out to be an eight-foot-tall, hairy creature that prompted the brother to urgently load everyone into the truck and race back to camp. That night, the family experienced further disturbances. The narrator and his family slept in their slide-in camper, where the dogs froze and stared at the door just before something nudged the camper around 3 a.m., as if testing its weight. In the morning, the younger brother reported being awakened around 2:30 a.m. by something pushing down on his truck. Spooked by the events, the family decided to leave that night. The narrator had two additional unsettling encounters in the same region. During the 2015 deer season while hunting alone, he heard a deep guttural yell silence nearby coyotes, followed by rocks being thrown at his camp. The rock-throwing intensified whenever he ignored it or turned off his light, forcing him to sleep in his Jeep and depart the next morning. In the most recent elk season, while walking an overgrown logging road with his brother, they heard loud whistling from a creek bed below as they tried to return to the main road. The whistling seemed to lure them downward each time they moved toward safety, prompting them to quickly leave the area without returning for the evening hunt.

Heaven Sent an Angel
I believe our Lord wants the best for us in everything we do, but we are fallen humans and we think we know better. We love being our own gods. Sometimes when we are close to making the worst decision, he sends help. And if we are lucky, we are able to see it after the angel is gone and we realize where the help came from, and everything changes in that moment. Thanks Greg. This story meant more to me than you know. Thank you, Cameron.

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Honored Friend and Hero Part 4 FULL AUDIOBOOK

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Honored Friend and Hero Part 3 FULL AUDIOBOOK

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Honored Friend and Hero Part 2 FULL AUDIOBOOK

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Honored Friend and Hero Part 1 FULL AUDIOBOOK

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Choctaw Bigfoot Killers

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Bigfoot Alligator Death Match

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The Thing Outside My Tent
Growing up in Bath, Maine, he developed a deep comfort in the wilderness, often spending days solo camping and foraging. During one four-day excursion with their hunting dog, Sparky, the narrator set up camp by a creek, successfully hunting squirrels and catching fish. However, the atmosphere shifted after they discovered a mysterious den surrounded by bones and unidentified tracks, leaving the narrator with an unsettling premonition that they were being watched.
The tension peaked that night when an eerie silence fell over the woods, broken only by a strange, scratchy breathing outside the tent. Expecting a bear attracted by leftover fish bones, the narrator peeked through a window flap and was paralyzed by the sight of a Lunksoos, or "Indian Devil." This legendary New England cryptid—a terrifying mix of cougar, bear, and coyote—reeked of death and moved with impossible speed, vanishing into a blur the moment it was startled by Sparky’s whining.
The encounter turned violent when the creature suddenly charged, trampling the tent and leaving the narrator bloodied and Sparky terrified. The two spent the remainder of the night huddled together in fear, waiting for the first sign of light. As soon as the sun rose, they abandoned their gear and fled the woods, forever changed by the realization that some legends are rooted in a very dangerous reality.

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Nightfall With a Dogman

After fifteen years as a patrol officer and SWAT operator, a veteran responds to a frantic 911 call on a stormy October night: an elderly rancher reports a monstrous black creature—tall, fast, with eyes like fire—mauling his livestock. Arriving at the isolated property, the officer finds the chicken coop and lamb pen in savage ruin: birds shredded beyond recognition, six lambs mangled with impossible force, their bodies twisted and torn. Massive bipedal tracks, nearly seventeen inches long with clawed toes, confirm something unnatural walked upright through the mud. Drawn into the black pines by the old man’s terrified warning that “it watches,” the officer confronts the entity: a hulking shadow with glowing red eyes seven feet high, radiating pure hate. A deep growl vibrates through his chest, followed by an inhuman shriek that silences the storm; the creature vanishes as quickly as it appeared. Backup searches yield nothing more, and the incident is logged as a routine “suspicious circumstance / possible livestock mauling.” The old man flees, abandoning the cursed ranch to rot. Hunters now avoid the woods, and the officer remains haunted, knowing those fiery eyes may still linger in the darkness, watching.

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Sasquatch Terror for Hikers
In 2016, while driving from Los Angeles to Portland with his girlfriend and detouring for off-roading in his new Jeep, the narrator and his partner heard repeated blood-curdling screams echoing through remote mountain roads, sounding like a woman in distress. They dismissed it at the time, but later at a tourist spot they discovered a guest book filled with locals’ Bigfoot sightings, planting the first seed of curiosity in his mind. Four years later, now a committed Bigfoot believer with a new Jeep Rubicon, a massive Mastiff, and a new girlfriend, he set out on what seemed like a routine hike in the mountains near central LA County. As they descended into a bowl-shaped valley, they encountered a series of increasingly large piles of freshly uprooted shrubs and bushes deliberately blocking the narrow trail—plants too tough for any human to pull bare-handed—followed by twisted and braided tree branches high overhead. The climax came at a massive 9-foot-wide, 6-foot-tall wall of freshly torn trees and debris that completely sealed the path; after pushing through, they felt intensely watched, heard sprinting footsteps, and glimpsed a large figure scrambling up a steep cliff and hiding behind bushes, rocks tumbling in its wake. Years afterward, while camping with a friend in a Sequoia grove in Yosemite’s Sierra National Forest, the narrator heard slow, deliberate knocking sounds coming from the tree line across a clearing—sounds that ceased whenever anyone approached within 25 feet and resumed once they retreated, as if something were playfully interacting with them. Though his life has since changed dramatically—his beloved dog passed away in 2020, he sold his Jeep, moved away from Southern California, and hikes far less—these encounters left him forever drawn to the outdoors and convinced of what lurks unseen in the wild.

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Bigfoot Pie Thief
A 12-year-old boy finishing lunch at his grandparents’ farm watched in shock as a furry hand reached through the open kitchen window and snatched one of Grandma’s freshly baked apple pies from the sill. Grandma charged in swinging her hickory switch like a sword, cracking the knuckles of the thief and sending both hand and pie flying out the window. Racing to look outside, the boy saw a six-foot-tall, hairy creature sprinting toward the woods with the pie in its grip, grunting and laughing the whole way. Grandpa arrived just in time to see it vanish into the trees, then calmly sat the boy down on the porch and explained that the creature was a “Booger”—one of a small family living several miles over the ridge. The young male thief had been bold enough to test Grandma’s cooking before, but the clan generally kept its distance and meant no real harm. Over the years the now-57-year-old narrator had many more encounters with the Boogers, some face-to-face, yet he always remembered Grandpa’s advice: lower any weapon, raise empty hands, smile, and back away slowly. Treating them with the same respect given to any wild predator—giving them room and never crowding them—kept every meeting peaceful. The creatures sometimes passed through at night or watched from the woods, but they could also be surprisingly considerate; the morning after the pie theft, six fresh apples appeared on Grandma’s windowsill as repayment. The narrator lives with the firm knowledge that these beings exist, neither crazy nor delusional, and believes people and Boogers can coexist just fine if both sides show a little courtesy.

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Bigfoot and Mountain Men
While listening to a Bigfoot podcast on the porch, the narrator’s 94-year-old great-granddad Elijah shared a secret from his youth. As a teen in early-1900s Tennessee, Elijah and his two best friends were close to a hermit called Crazy Joe, who taught them wilderness skills. When Joe vanished, his shack was wrecked; weeks later he returned wealthy, clean-shaven, and driving fine horses. He revealed he had once struck gold in a hidden Idaho valley guarded by giant, hairy “Ancient Ones.” Joe invited the boys west. They reached the remote Valley of the Ancients, lived with a Shoshone friend called Long Tooth, and learned the creatures’ rules: leave food on a sacred rock and never chase them. In return, the gentle but towering Ancient Ones left gold nuggets almost daily. During three winters the boys glimpsed the hairy beings, hunted alongside them, and filled a wagon with wealth before returning to Tennessee as wealthy young men. Elijah used his share to buy the family farm that still stands today. When the narrator doubted the tale, Elijah produced a worn journal and a bag of gold nuggets matching every detail. The family has kept the secret for six generations.

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Archive 241 Bigfoot

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Panning for Gold in Bigfoot Country
A lifelong outdoorsman from a Texas cattle-ranch background (former pro rodeo rider, music teacher, avid camper, fisherman, hiker, and fossil/rock collector) recounts two eerie, unexplained experiences that ultimately convinced him Bigfoot is real. While renting a remote 26-acre cabin outside Kerrville, Texas, he regularly fed local wildlife. For several nights he heard loud slapping/banging on the cabin walls; one night the impact was so violent it shook pictures on the wall beside his bed. His dogs were terrified. A trail camera later captured a large, shadowy face peering through the brush exactly where the noises occurred. Around the same time, a reported Bigfoot sighting happened just eight miles away. After moving to Santa Fe, New Mexico, he had a similar feeling of being watched while alone with his dogs on the remote Holy Ghost Trail (an area locals call haunted); the dogs bolted back to the Jeep in fear. In March 2021, during a solo gold-panning trip to Willow Creek in the Santa Fe National Forest, he discovered a set of enormous fresh footprints paralleling the creek—16 inches long, 5 inches wide, with a 4.5-foot stride. His dogs froze, staring into the brush; he felt intensely watched. He measured and photographed the prints (with his foot for scale) before racing back to his truck. Subsequent research revealed dozens of Bigfoot reports in both the Texas Hill Country and northern New Mexico locations where he had lived and hiked, including one near his old cabin on the exact night of the slapping incident. A hunter had also gone missing in the Willow Creek area, later featured on a TV show. Now living on the Texas coast (where sightings are also reported), he remains an enthusiastic outdoorsman but never hikes or camps without a firearm and keeps a close eye on his dogs. Though he never had a clear visual (Class A) sighting, the cumulative evidence has made Bigfoot “always on his radar.”

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The Worst Bigfoot Encounter
A lifelong hunter with over 45 years of experience—successful with everything from coyotes and deer to bear and turkey—announces he is selling all his firearms, gear, and donating his camo after a nightmarish solo turkey hunt in late April near Cave Run Lake, Kentucky. Traumatized beyond words, he has been unable to confide in family, friends, or doctors for fear of being institutionalized, and now reaches out anonymously with his story. While set up motionless against a massive black oak on a ridge, calling in a hot gobbler, he is suddenly seized from behind by a huge, dark-brown, hairy Bigfoot-like creature. Its thick, callused gray-skinned, gorilla-like hands clamp over his mouth/neck and around his waist, pinning him helplessly to the tree and neutralizing his shotgun. He watches in frozen terror as two sleek black, dog-headed “werewolf” or Dogman creatures—complete with erect ears and three-inch fangs—ambush and devour a doe in the clearing just yards away, ripping through meat and bone in minutes with clicking sounds and howls. When the pair turns toward his hiding spot, the creature holding him unleashes a deafening roar that summons a group of 4–5 more Bigfoot-type beings. They explode from the woods in pursuit, chasing the predators away. The Bigfoot then snatches his gun, hurls it into the brush, blocks his attempt to retrieve it, and finally releases him. The hunter sprints ten frantic minutes back to his truck (a trek that normally takes 45), abandons the shotgun on the ridge forever, and speeds away in panic. In the weeks since, he suffers crushing PTSD: insomnia, uncontrollable crying jags at work, paralyzing fear of any woods or even his own yard. He now drives extra miles on highways to avoid wooded county roads, refuses to sit on the porch with his wife, hires a neighbor kid to mow the lawn, and has called off or been sent home from work multiple times. He believes the Bigfoot creatures deliberately protected him from being eaten, but the experience has destroyed his lifelong love of the outdoors. He asks: What should he do? Is there help or therapy for people who have had these kinds of encounters? Will he ever recover and enjoy the woods again?

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Witness Sees Bigfoot Hunting Deer

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Bigfoot the Cow KIller
In 2010, a man’s family moved to Colorado, where they discovered a remote campsite on the border of the Rawah Wilderness in northern Colorado—an isolated, high-elevation spot accessible only by high-clearance vehicle. In spring 2019, he and his son scouted the site and spent four days there. They enjoyed the scenery and wildlife but found unexplained items: torn pajamas on the ground and a backpack wedged 50 feet up in a tree. In 2020, the full family returned. One night, dressed in Viking reenactment gear and celebrating late around the fire, they blew a war horn. Shortly after, a terrifying guttural scream echoed from the ridge behind camp, sounding like a woman being attacked. It repeated minutes later, followed by coyotes yipping and then abruptly yelping in pain before going silent, as if something attacked them. The next morning, they followed a foul odor and discovered a recently dead cow with no predator marks—except its entire lower jaw and tongue were missing. That evening they listened to Bigfoot-related podcasts and set up defensive perimeter traps and firearms (the narrator, a combat veteran, always camps heavily armed). The following morning, while checking the area, the narrator and his son witnessed a seven-foot-tall, dark-haired bipedal creature with a conical head, prominent brow, and human-like but larger hands dragging the decaying cow carcass into the woods. They soon had to evacuate due to the approaching Cameron Peak wildfire but later returned multiple times. They located the cow's scattered remains, recovered its ear tag as a keepsake, and began leaving small gifts (apples, candy, marbles, Bigfoot figurines) at the site, which consistently disappeared.The experience convinced the family that Bigfoot may be real. The narrator, who grew up hearing Sasquatch stories near Yosemite, remains cautious and armed on trips but now camps in hopes of another peaceful observation rather than confrontation.

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Mad Trapper Sheslay Free Mike - Kóoshdaa Káa

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The Navajo Connection with Sasquatch
In 1999, after moving to Denver, Colorado, a Navajo man, Nightwolf, surprised his brother, whom he hadn’t seen in seven years. The brothers, both Navajo, decided to drive up Berthoud Pass to catch up. While enjoying the mountain scenery, they spotted a large, black, furry figure that they first mistook for a bear. Nightwolf pulled over, tossed an apple from their bag toward the creature (accidentally hitting it), and quickly realized it was not a bear but Bigfoot. Drawing on Navajo stories about the creature, he felt a mix of fear and awe. The being stood about nine feet tall, with a massive head, no visible neck, a barrel-like chest, thick leathery skin, and alert, intelligent eyes. Despite his brother’s frantic warnings that it would kill him, Nightwolf chose to show respect by calmly approaching with the bag of apples. He knelt, bowed his head to expose his neck in submission, and placed the bag in front of the creature. It briefly grasped his neck—leaving an oily residue—then released him, took the apples, and walked away. Shaken but deeply honored by the encounter, Nightwolf rejoined his brother in the car. He describes the experience as life-changing and ends with blessings to the reader.

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Archive 240 Bigfoot Stories

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Archive 239 Paranormal & Bigfoot

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Archive 238 Bigfoot

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The Worst Kind of Demon
A 41-year-old man, previously indifferent to religion despite a vague belief in God, shares a chilling personal experience that led to his Christian faith. In July of the previous year, his family moved from Calgary to his elderly parents’ rural property near Edmonton to help care for his terminally ill father, who was dying of lung cancer after decades of smoking. Shortly after arriving, his mother confided that she had seen a tall, hunched black figure with long fingers and deep black eye pits in her bedroom. Terrified, she began sleeping with the lights on and avoided the room without a dog. The man initially dismissed it as a hallucination related to her health. Weeks later, he began experiencing strange phenomena himself: sensations of bugs crawling all over his body at night (only relieved by sleeping on the couch), followed by nightmares, light poking that escalated to aggressive jabbing, grabbing, squeezing, and pulling. No one else in the family was affected. The encounters intensified. One night on the couch, an invisible large, cold, rough hand with long fingers grabbed his face and forced his head into the pillow, causing pain. When he fought back, he felt something walk along the couch and then grab his ankles; he saw his sweatpants move as if squeezed. Another time in the garage, he felt overwhelming malevolence, a sudden cold, and physical grabs on his thigh and neck. In desperation during the neck grab, he began reciting the Lord’s Prayer aloud. The pressure immediately released, warmth returned, and the malevolent feeling vanished. The next day, deeply shaken and sleep-deprived, he contacted his pastor aunt and uncle. They guided him to pray out loud, surrendering his life and soul to Jesus Christ. He did so sincerely. That night, for the first time in months, he slept peacefully with no disturbances. Three weeks later, a final attack occurred: a presence grabbed his head. Though initially paralyzed with fear and unable to speak, he eventually commanded the entity to leave in Jesus’ name (as his relatives had instructed). The grip released instantly, though it briefly caused sharp pain in his knee before departing permanently. He describes this as the moment he truly felt God’s presence. His father passed away a week later. Afterward, his young son reported feeling watched and getting “bad feelings” at night. The man led his son in the same prayer of surrender to Jesus, and all disturbances in the house ceased completely. Since then, the man reads the Bible daily (sometimes twice), prays multiple times a day, and the family studies scripture together. His son, now ten, reminds him to pray at bedtime. Previously having never opened a Bible and feeling unworthy of redemption due to past mistakes, he now believes both demonic forces and God’s protective power are real. He credits prayer and faith in Jesus for his deliverance and ongoing peace.

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Bigfoot Observed on the Mississippi River

In the summer of 2017, while fishing alone on the lower Mississippi River near Osceola, Arkansas, a man encountered an approaching storm. He moved his boat upriver to shelter behind a small island with trees and overhanging willows, tied off, and covered himself with a tarp as the rain began. From his position, he noticed a large, dark, hairy figure—approximately 8 feet tall—about 200 yards away on the opposite bank. The creature waded waist-deep into the water and deliberately moved to startle invasive Asian carp, causing them to leap out of the water. It then swatted the jumping fish onto the bank, successfully catching several.As the rain intensified and visibility dropped, the narrator last saw the creature gathering the fish in its large hands and retreating into the trees. The narrator concluded that the creature had secured a good meal that afternoon.

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Missing Person Case - Bigfoot Cover Up

The day after Christmas, two experienced college student duck hunters launched their jon boat into an oxbow of the Mississippi River to hunt during the final week of their holiday break. They were cautious, well-equipped, and familiar with the dangers of the cold, flooded winter waters, yet they never returned. Their vehicle and trailer remained at the ramp, and by nightfall a search began. The narrator, a second-year Federal Game Warden patrolling a nearby wildlife refuge in the Mississippi Delta, joined the effort that night and continued searching the next day. Deep in a remote, flooded timber area of the refuge, he discovered the boys’ boat—severely damaged, folded nearly in half as if crushed by enormous weight. Decoys were still out, but no hunters were present. Large, barefoot tracks surrounded the wreck, leading away into the woods. No drag marks or bodies were visible, suggesting something had carried the men off. The warden photographed the scene, then followed the tracks inland while armed. As a helicopter approached overhead, his memory abruptly ends. He next found himself the following day, December 28, in clean clothes at the sheriff’s office, with no recollection of the previous 24 hours. A report bearing his signature described only accidental boat damage—no mention of tracks, crushing, or animal signs. When he returned to the site, the boat had been recovered and appeared merely damaged, not folded. The giant tracks were gone, replaced by ordinary human boot prints. The disposable camera photos he had taken were all blank or blurred. The official search continued for another week but found no trace of the young men—no bodies, no gear beyond a couple of old shotguns unrelated to the case. The boys remain missing decades later. The warden never amended his report or publicly shared what he initially witnessed, confiding only years later in a trusted colleague. He notes that he has never again experienced missing time, but that he and other longtime officers in the lowland delta refuges have accumulated similar unexplained stories that never reach mainstream missing-persons investigators. The narrative strongly implies a cryptid encounter—likely Sasquatch—responsible for both the disappearance and the subsequent alteration of evidence and memory.

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Archive 237 UFOs & Bigfoot

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Archive 236 Paranormal

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Archive 235 Paranormal

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Archive 234 Chained Light and Flying Dogs

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Archive 233 Thunderbird

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Archive 232 Bigfoot Stories

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Archive 231 The Church Factor

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Bigfoot Called Out His Name
A newly trained deputy begins his first solo patrol on New Year’s Day in 1980. What starts as a quiet shift turns tragic when he responds to a call about two missing children near Morgan Creek. He follows their footprints to a hole in the ice, where a rescue team later recovers their bodies—siblings, ages 11 and 9, who drowned. Twenty years later, on another snowy New Year’s night, the now-veteran deputy hears a dispatch report about two wet children walking near the same bridge. Another officer searches but finds no children—only footprints that mysteriously end near an old, abandoned farmhouse that once belonged to the drowned children’s family. Believing the sighting to be supernatural, the deputy concludes the caller likely encountered the ghosts of the long-lost siblings. The farmhouse has since been torn down, and the bridge rebuilt, but the area remains beautiful—and haunted by its past.

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Archive 230 UFO and Bigfoot

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Archive 229 Bigfoot Theory

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Archive 228 Ghosts and Bigfoot

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Bigfoot - There Was No Escape
In 1964, the narrator's grandfather and uncle, experienced campers in the Appalachian Mountains, took a risky shortcut through the eerie, lifeless Devil's Bowl to beat nightfall. What began as suspicious noises—snapping branches, rustling leaves, and clacking rocks—escalated into a terrifying ambush by multiple eight-foot-tall, hairy, ape-like creatures with piercing eyes and guttural roars, resembling Bigfoot. Pelted with increasingly large stones, the men spotted shadowy figures circling them. The grandfather, mistaking them initially for moonshiners, drew his pistol and tried to de-escalate, but a massive beast charged, knocking them down. Desperate, the uncle emptied his revolver into one creature, killing it and unleashing a horde of enraged others that swarmed, slashing and battering the pair. With broken ribs and severe wounds, the grandfather fought back fiercely, shooting several beasts in the head to defend his unconscious uncle, fearing he'd wiped out the entire group. Dragging his kin to safety, they escaped to their home for care, but the trauma lingered: the uncle bore lifelong scars and battled addiction until his death at 51; the grandfather, a Korean War vet and coal miner, carried deep regret and sorrow, dying when the narrator was 18, haunted by the unatoned violence in the creatures' "front yard."

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Archive 227 Bigfoot the Killer

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A Bigfoot Child for a Human Child
In a Mississippi trailer park, Lily, a watchful resident who keeps an eye on the neighborhood kids, overhears a group of children bickering about their lost little sister, who they say wandered into the woods chasing a "baby monkey." Concerned as dusk approaches, Lily ventures into the familiar woods to search, following tracks and soon detecting a familiar musky scent she associates with Sasquatch.
Deeper in, she encounters not the girl but a frightened baby Sasquatch, which clings to her like a koala. As she tries to retreat, a pack of coyotes gives chase, forcing Lily to hoist the baby into a tree for safety. Cornered, she's on the verge of attack when the massive, enraged mother Sasquatch intervenes, hurling coyotes into trees with terrifying roars that shake Lily to her core. Initially furious at the scent of her baby on Lily, the mother softens when the infant returns to Lily's neck, then gently strokes her hair before leading her to a twiggy nest—where the sleeping little girl lies safe, guarded by the Sasquatch family.
Reading Lily's unspoken plea, the mother urges her to take the child and flee, glancing warily at unseen threats like hunters. Lily escorts the girl home through the woods. Emerging behind her trailer, the girl dashes off, while Lily reunites with her husband, Steve, who ribs her for reeking like a skunk. Their neighbor praises Lily as a hero, insisting she deserves a steak dinner—and tomato juice to boot.

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Archive 226 Bigfoot Wars 1780

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Bigfoot Came at Him and He Had to Shoot

An experienced hunter, unable to join his usual family group, tags along with a friend's neighbors for a three-day hunt. Wary of one drunken member (whose rifle is confiscated), he starts the first day late due to a delayed breakfast, arriving at a remote plateau overlooking timber and waterways well after dawn. Ignoring warnings about getting lost in 40 square miles of swampy woods, he ventures north alone along a game trail, crossing a treacherous 30-foot waterway via a fallen log—only to plunge into icy, quicksand-like depths mid-crossing.
He escapes using his 30/30 rifle's new sling to haul himself back onto the log, then continues, soaked but undeterred. Drying off while hiking to high ground, he spots fresh bear tracks near the crossing (possibly drawn by his splash), prompting caution. He observes snowshoe rabbits and a group of seven deer (including two bucks) from a log pile vantage, letting them pass as another hunter trails them.
Pushing deeper north through dense underbrush, he finds no deer sign in the isolated terrain, which puzzles him. As heavy snow turns to a blizzard near dusk, he retraces his steps, recrossing the log safely but arriving at the empty parking area—stranded in pitch darkness as his group has abandoned him. Waiting in limited 10-foot visibility, he hears rustling below and yells to alert what he assumes is the other hunter. Silence follows, but an unseen entity approaches uphill through an impenetrable 50-yard wall of 6-foot briar thickets laced with 1-inch "Wait-a-Minute" thorns—snapping branches in a bipedal rhythm that rules out human or bear. Drawing on prior friendly Bigfoot encounters during a Canadian fishing trip, he suspects a hostile 8-foot-tall one.
With no escape on the exposed plateau, he issues final warnings, then fires three close warning shots from his 30/30 (aiming to deter without killing, leveraging his 82nd Airborne background). Undeterred, the creature closes to 30 yards, forcing him to ready a lethal headshot. In a split-second twist of fate, a pickup truck crests the plateau just inches from him—the returning group, chastised for leaving early. He leaps aboard with his still-loaded rifle, urging them to flee without explaining the terror. The hunter reflects that without that timely arrival, the story would have ended fatally.

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Archive 225 Bigfoot Discovered in Bat Cave

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Bigfoot Chased and Attacked Teenage Boys
In midsummer, two friends camped near their hillside garden in a remote pine forest on California's northern coast. While the others tented, he slept in a makeshift shelter under a fallen tree, boots on and rifle at hand for wildlife protection. Awakened by heavy bipedal footsteps shaking the ground, the narrator froze as a large creature peered into the shelter, sniffed around, and pushed past a branch barrier. It probed the space before grabbing the his leg, prompting a mutual scream—his piercing cry startling the beast into a high-pitched wail as it fled, tearing the top off a friend's tent. Terrified, the group huddled until dawn, then fled on dirt bikes. As they escaped, a baseball-sized rock struck the narrator's head, knocking him off his bike, but they sped away and never returned.

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He Killed it With a Hatchet
In 1932 in Short Gap, West Virginia, a grandmother placed her nearly one-year-old daughter (the narrator’s mother) on a baby blanket in the yard to get some sunshine while she washed dishes at the kitchen window. The girl’s grandfather was chopping wood at the nearby smokehouse when he saw an enormous black bird—described as a “Thunderbird”—casting a huge shadow as it swooped straight down toward the helpless baby. Realizing he couldn’t reach her in time, he hurled his hatchet and struck the bird dead. When the family measured the carcass stretched across the smokehouse wall, its wingspan was an astonishing 16 feet 4 inches. Neighbors came from around to view the mysterious giant bird, and a photograph was taken (though it has since been lost). The narrator saw the photo as a child and heard the story many times from his mother, who is now 91. It remains one of the family’s most legendary tales.

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Archive 224 Ghosts and Bigfoot

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Archive 223 Bigfoot

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Archive 222 Bigfoot

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Archive 221 Bigfoot

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Archive 220 Bigfoot Stories

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Bigfoot Shot in the Chest

In this reflective memoir, a man recounts his grandfather Calvin's life as a skilled woodsman and hunter born in 1886 in rural Florida. After losing his logging job in the 1929 crash, Calvin became a sharecropper during the Great Depression, relying on a mule and wagon for transport. One moonlit night in Lafayette County, while walking home through sparse woods, Calvin spotted a massive, silent figure—taller and broader than any man—at a road intersection. Recognizing it as neither human nor known animal (ruling out bears or locals), he halted, challenged it to identify itself, and, receiving no response, fired two close-range shots from his .38 Special revolver into its chest. The creature, unfazed and painless, simply walked upright into the woods like a man. The next morning, Calvin and armed neighbors searched but found no tracks, blood, or signs; no reports of shootings emerged, leaving the incident unsolved. The narrator, born in 1937, grew up farming and hunting (squirrels at 10, turkeys for 64 years), served in the Army, and became a Tallahassee police officer. A lifelong skeptic of Bigfoot lore—dismissing amateur "researchers," unexplained woods sounds (attributed to hogs), hoax-prone reports with inconsistent descriptions, and claims of bulletproof creatures (countered by high-powered rifles)—he questions the "watched" sensation as fear-induced. Yet, he ponders his grandfather's impeccable character: an honest, hardened man with nothing to gain from fabricating a tale that risked his reputation and livelihood in tough times. Neighbors' belief, shown by joining the search, bolsters this. Ultimately, the narrator concludes Calvin told the truth about encountering an enormous, bipedal, otherworldly being impervious to gunfire. Though a healthy skeptic who needs to "see is believing," he admits: if Bigfoot exists, he'd rather not encounter one.

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Archive 219 Bigfoot

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Archive 218 Sasquatch Encounters

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Archive 217 Bigfoot Stories

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Archive 216 Bigfoot Stories

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Archive 215 Interview with a Bigfoot Survivor

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Beware The Devil's Knot - Dogman
In the rural Truman County of the 1940s, the Dumeyer family—Will, Georgia, and their children Bobby and young Cassandra—lived on a farm bordering the eerie Devil's Knot, a dense, legend-shrouded hollow said to swallow people whole. Will, a fearless hunter, returned from World War II only to face bizarre attacks on their livestock: a massive, bipedal canine-like creature tore apart animals and left enormous tracks. On the opening day of deer season in 1947, Will ventured into the Knot and vanished, leaving Georgia increasingly unhinged as she reported werewolf assaults to skeptical authorities. The community searched everywhere but the Knot, fueling rumors that Will fled his "crazy" wife. Years later, 12-year-old Bobby, burdened with farm chores and known for school pranks, took a risky shortcut through the Knot to reach home before dark, believing his father's spirit protected him. One winter evening, after detention, he returned to find his seven-year-old sister Cassi missing from school. Defying his terrified mother's pleas, Bobby entered the Knot unarmed to search for her, instructing Georgia to alert the sheriff. Deputies followed but found only echoes, glowing red eyes, and unearthly growls in the suffocating darkness. As hope faded, a rifle shot rang out, followed by a howl and Cassi's blood-soaked emergence, whispering only, "He saved me." Bobby was never seen again. The tragedy shattered the family: Georgia and a mute, haunted Cassi were institutionalized, the farm sold, and the Knot's legends swelled with the Dumeyers' names. Tales spread of a protective Bobby—bloodied ghost with a rusted rifle—who guides lost children who call to him. Decades on, journalist Chig Chesterfield, interviewing elderly survivor Gordon Hightower for a Halloween story, uncovers these truths. At 12, Chig himself dared the Knot on a campout dare, emerging shaken after a spectral Bobby led him through horrors, forever binding him to the legend.

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Archive 214 Bigfoot

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Archive 213 Bigfoot

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Bigfoot vs Salt Water Croc
As a tall young man (6'7", size 17 shoes) hiding behind a tree stump in the Australian bush, the narrator witnesses three massive, muscular Yowies—hulking, ape-like creatures—ambush and brutally dismember an old gray kangaroo, ripping off its legs as trophies. The two smaller Yowies fight savagely over the limbs, their blows shaking the ground, until a towering elder Yowie intervenes with a thunderous roar that terrifies the narrator. It bashes their heads together and kicks one into a vast billabong teeming with 25-foot saltwater crocodiles. The submerged Yowie grapples a massive croc, punching it and enduring bites to its leg and hand, before its kin join the fray. They smash the reptile's skull, snap its jaws, and tear it apart—ripping off tail, legs, and guts to devour on the spot. Drawn by the blood, more crocs swarm, prompting the Yowies to haul away chunks of meat and vanish into the bush with earthquake-like thuds. In shock, the narrator emerges to compare a Yowie footprint to his own—far larger and wider—and notes the surviving crocs feasting on the remains. He's encountered Yowies elsewhere, viewing them as magical beings. Local Aboriginals share lore: Yowies are ancient earth guardians and "brothers" to Indigenous people, capable of deep familial love, though "tribal" ones are cannibalistic. They recount a tragic origin for the Yowies' hatred of reptiles: centuries ago, a playful young Yowie lost its leg to a giant lizard in a billabong, sparking a deadly clash that killed two adults—including a mother mummified embracing her child—igniting an eternal feud with crocs and lizards.

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Archive 212 Bigfoot

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Is It Safe To Camp These Days?
In 2015, a father and his son were tent camping while hunting in South Central Colorado. Despite failed propane heaters due to high elevation, they stayed warm sharing a sleeping bag over their cots during a chilly night in the upper 20s, with a low-lit Coleman lantern hanging nearby for safety. Around midnight, the son woke his father to report heavy breathing outside the tent. Grabbing his 9mm, the father listened intently, estimating the creature's height at about 10 feet based on the sound's angle. It circled the tent, joined by a second one approaching from another direction, their presence casting shadows just before the lantern. Terrified, the father shouted "No! No! No!" to assert their presence. The creatures halted and retreated with unusually light footsteps. Come morning, a thorough search revealed no tracks in the frost-covered grass. The father describes it as the most frightening night of his life, with the visitors' identity forever a mystery.

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Dinosaurs by Tom Franklin
From the collection of short stories: Poachers by Tom Franklin
Author Page:
https://www.amazon.com/stores/Tom-Franklin/author/B001IXRUHY?ref=sr_ntt_srch_lnk_2&qid=1760714984&sr=8-2&isDramIntegrated=true&shoppingPortalEnabled=true&ccs_id=73e0685b-ba8b-44aa-a347-4ebd6a8e2ec6

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Texas Dogman
After 25 years in Alaska, where the narrator immersed himself in the rugged wilderness—from the Arctic Pipeline to the Aleutian Islands and gold mines—developing a passion for cryptids, they spent over five years earning the trust of tribal elders. These elders shared ancient encounter stories, histories of elusive creatures, and even passed down a Woolly Rhinoceros tooth from a hunt in the late 1600s or early 1700s. Alaska's extremes brought thrilling wildlife sightings, like cooperative black bears raiding dumps and moose wandering urban streets, evoking Jack London adventures. Seeking warmer climes, the narrator relocated to a lush, open suburb in East Texas—137°F milder than Alaska's winters—only to discover cryptids thriving amid the greenery and barking dogs that suddenly fall silent at night. One afternoon, after a doctor's visit in a one-story office complex, their service Jack Russell Terrier grew agitated, pulling on the leash before freezing and trembling violently. As the narrator knelt to comfort the shaking dog, an unnatural silence descended—like a shadow blocking sound—accompanied by a foul, inexplicable odor. Remaining still, they waited it out until birds and frogs resumed chirping, and the presence lifted. In the soft mud nearby, a massive footprint appeared: longer and wider than the narrator's size 13 shoe (which barely dented the earth), ending in three deep claw marks from a heavy, narrow foot. Photos sent to Alaskan hunter friends yielded no identification. Locals whisper of similar run-ins with 10- to 12-foot-tall beasts, dubbing this a "Dogman." The narrator teases more harrowing tales for the brave-hearted. A devoted fan of the channel, they praise the host's non-judgmental, enthusiastic narration of such bewildering experiences, plus the joyful glimpses of farm life—chickens, dogs, roosters, and drone views—that brighten their housebound days due to disability. Grateful to have survived, they urge vigilance: always stay alert to live and share your stories.

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Archive 211 Bigfoot

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Ghosts Haunt a Transmission Shop
In 2000, a mechanic opened a transmission repair shop in Summerville, adjacent to an automotive shop run by his friend Keith. With help from his nephew Raymond during the day and a friend at night, the business ran smoothly until eerie events began: a shadowy black animal darted past him one morning, tools clattered to the floor inexplicably, and the air carried scents of women's perfume and pipe tobacco. Loud bangs echoed against the building, but investigations revealed nothing. As disturbances intensified, the owner’s night helper, Benne, refused to return alone after witnessing a man in a burgundy shirt watching him through a mirror and causing a car lift to malfunction before mysteriously lowering itself. Keith revealed the building's long-haunted resident, a ghost named Henry, whose presence had plagued the site for 20 years. The nephew soon reported similar shadows and noises while working on his race car, and even a visiting friend glimpsed a vanishing figure. The hauntings peaked with physical sensations—a breath on the narrator's neck, a tug on his pocket—and bizarre echoes, like muffled arguments mimicking a customer's dispute. After a year of unrelenting chills, the owner closed the shop and relocated, but decades later, retired and passing by the old building, he still recalls Henry with a shiver.

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Oklahoma Bigfoot Nine Feet Tall
Born in 1965 in eastern Oklahoma, he grew up immersed in outdoor life, hunting and fishing with family and best friend Slick. In early spring, they camped in the remote Blue Mountains for a fishing trip. After a quiet first night disturbed by rustling outside their truck, they fished all day but felt watched on the return hike. Hearing knocks from a bluff and rocks splashing into the creek, with a treetop swaying inexplicably, they fired warning shots into the wall and fled to their vehicle, convinced they'd encountered something like Bigfoot, though they saw no figure. At age 12, visiting his brother at a logging camp in Oregon's Monmouth mountains, the narrator spotted enormous, fresh 20-inch barefoot prints in the dusty road while heading to town. Local loggers, familiar with such tracks and even sightings of the creatures, confirmed the phenomenon, leaving the boy terrified and plagued by nightmares for days. In summer 1993, fishing a bass tournament on Greenleaf Lake in Arkansas amid dense woods and military land, the narrator and his brother spotted a massive shadow in shallow water under moonlight. It growled deeply, plowed through the water creating a huge wake, and crashed ashore, barreling uphill through timber like a bulldozer—estimated at nine feet tall. The next day, they found large impressions on the bank and trailed broken arm-thick limbs snapped at seven feet high for 300 yards. Certain it wasn't a bear but a curious Sasquatch, the narrator keeps the story secret to spare his young sons fear while hunting locally.

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Archive 210 The Wart Forest and Bigfoot

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The Old Man Haunted by Bigfoot
In a smoky Nashville bar, the Jim buys a beer for the elderly, down-on-his-luck Samuel, a monthly regular living frugally on Social Security in a rooming house. Spotting Samuel's hunger, the narrator orders him food and invites him to join at his table. Over burgers and beers, the narrator introduces himself as Jim from Louisville, fresh from hurricane repair work in Florida. Samuel, born and raised in North Carolina's mountains, opens up about why he left his beloved home at 21—not for war or lack of work, but for a darker reason. Eager for steady pay during scarce times, young Samuel joined a logging company, impressing the foreman with his marksmanship and landing a job as an armed deputy enforcing land evictions on mountain families. Shunned by his community for aiding the bosses, Samuel grew isolated. The story's climax came during the third attempt to evict the reclusive Prater clan from their ancient 1,800-acre forest homestead, led by the fierce Mammy Prater. Using kidnapped six-year-old Jenny as leverage, the deputies arrived to collect weapons and demand departure. The Praters complied eerily, gathering to unleash a haunting, high-pitched chant that summoned massive, hairy ape-like beasts from the woods. The creatures slaughtered the entire eviction party in a frenzy of boulders, gunfire, and gore, sparing only Samuel after Mammy declared him a "token" to flee and never return or speak of it. Traumatized, Samuel was forever exiled from his home and family. Years later, tears in his eyes, he shares the tale with the narrator, who leaves unsettled—haunted by nightmares of the impossible horror, unsure if he believes it but forever changed by the old man's quiet burden.

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Police Attacked by Paranormal Entity
In the mid-1990s, a night-shift police officer in a quiet small town completed his routine checks and parked near the Masonic Lodge and church just after midnight to finish paperwork. Suddenly, he felt a violent impact jolt his patrol car, shifting it several feet forward and four feet sideways into the road, scattering his belongings. Stepping out, he found no other vehicle, no damage, no tire marks, and utter silence—leaving him stunned and unable to report the impossible event. He vowed never to park there again, haunted by the sensation of an unseen force hurling his cruiser aside. Years later, in the late 1990s, two officers at the town police station before midnight watched a vintage hippie van pull up, from which emerged a young couple dressed in flawless 1960s attire—tie-dye, fringe, and bell-bottoms—who spoke with era-perfect slang. Politely asking for directions to a nearby town, they received a hand-drawn map and left smiling. As the younger officer rushed to return their forgotten directions, he reached the door mere seconds later—only to find the couple, van, and all traces vanished without a sound or mark on the dew-kissed pavement, defying any natural explanation. Both encounters, shared openly among the officers, remain vivid and inexplicable, etching a sense of the uncanny into their memories and reinforcing the town's eerie undercurrents.

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Scott Hendrix Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Scott-Hendrix/author/B09ZLMQP1N?ref=ap_rdr&isDramIntegrated=true&shoppingPortalEnabled=true&ccs_id=f8705893-ce3c-4e50-9014-cbd87482ebef

The Breakout by Scott Hendrix
In the summer of his tenth year, young Henry Mason wanders into the barn of the gruff old fisherman known as Chief, sparking an unlikely friendship. Intrigued by the boy's curiosity and appalled that he's never fished, Chief teaches Henry the art of fly casting with rhythmic hand claps and patient guidance. Soon, they share euphoric mornings on the lake, anchoring near a gnarled underwater branch where the scent of bedding bluegill fills the air. Henry's first catch—a shimmering bluegill—hooks him forever, and they fish together for years, forging a bond like father and son. Years later, after college, Henry returns home eager to reunite with Chief, only to learn he's confined to a nursing home. Spotting the frail man gazing longingly at a pond, Henry shares tales of Montana trout fishing, evoking Chief's youthful spirit. When Chief wistfully admits his dying wish is to fish with "his boy" again, Henry hatches a daring plan. Feigning a simple outing, he wheels Chief to the car, and they escape to Chief's overgrown property, adrenaline surging like a prison breakout. Dust-covered treasures await in the barn: fly rods Chief had saved for this very hope. Rigging the canoe and Chief's favorite popping bug, they glide to the familiar spot. As Chief inhales the musty bluegill scent and casts with trembling hands, landing a fish that bends his rod, time reverses. Pride and joy light his face, fulfilling a promise sealed in a framed photo labeled "For Henry," their final cast a triumphant echo of shared beginnings.

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Archive 209 Bigfoot

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First Sasquatch Captured
A veterinarian specializing in large animals graduates from the University of Kentucky and opens a private practice in 1995 before joining Tennessee's Elk Reintroduction Program in 2000. There, he monitors radio-collared elk in the North Cumberland Wildlife Area, aiding in anti-poaching efforts and tracking migrations. On September 19, 2017, an erratic signal from a dominant bull elk's collar leads him, a game warden named Rick, and park ranger Brian into the woods to investigate. Tracking blood trails and fleeting signals, they stumble upon carnage from the elk's leg and pursue what seems like a poacher. Instead, an elderly Native American medicine man, the Ayunini, emerges offering the collar, explaining that the Tsul’Kalu—a reclusive, hairy, ape-like creature allied with his people—took the elk to feed its newborn mate. When Rick arrests the man, a massive, nine-foot-tall beast with black eyes, flattened nose, and muscular build roars from the shadows. The vet fires two tranquilizer darts, allowing them to collect samples before the creature staggers away. The medicine man vanishes, leaving behind only discarded handcuffs and fog. Government agents in black SUVs soon confiscate their phones, packs, and evidence, enforcing a cover story of feral dogs killing the elk and threatening their jobs. Digital backups mysteriously vanish, prompting the vet to resign and reopen his practice. He reflects on the secrecy surrounding two Sasquatch tribes—the peaceful, human-avoiding Tsul’Kalu and the predatory Judaculla—questioning the government's motives while vowing to seek answers independently.

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Archive 208 Bigfoot

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Archive 207 Bigfoot Only

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Archive 206 Bigfoot Encounters

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Archive 205 Bigfoot Encounters

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Archive 204 Bigfoot Encounters

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Bigfoot Attack Then Five Months in a Coma
Jonathan awoke from a 19-month coma with fragmented memories, aware only of his identity, family, and a vague sense of a catastrophic event. Trapped in darkness, unable to move or see, he struggled to piece together his past, haunted by fleeting sensations of fear and being thrown through the air. As he regained consciousness, he heard voices, including his wife Madison’s, and slowly began to recognize his surroundings and family, who had aged significantly. Learning he had been comatose for over five years due to brain trauma, Jonathan grappled with the loss of time, his job, and their homes, as well as the amputation of his leg, while his family filled him in on their new life in North Carolina. As Jonathan’s recovery progressed through therapy, he pieced together more of his life as a former CFO and Harvard graduate, but the cause of his injuries remained elusive until a visit from his brother-in-law, Jeremy, triggered memories of a hiking trip on the Appalachian Trail. Alone after Jeremy left due to a family emergency, Jonathan was stalked and attacked by an unknown entity that tore apart his tent and threw him against a tree, causing his injuries. A Bigfoot documentary later triggered a full recollection of the terrifying encounter with a non-human creature. Now, in the safety of his new home, Jonathan is haunted by the clear memory of that night, realizing his long recovery is only the beginning of coping with the trauma.

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Archive 203
The Hat Man 
A Short Story by Rebecca Lee Wesson
Author of No Good Man available on Amazon,
and the fictional podcast, The River Stills Phenomenon.

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Bigfoot & Mean Emails

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Bigfoot Caves Are A Bad Place to Set Up Camp
In the mid-1990s, a Utah State University student, an outdoor enthusiast, discovered a hidden cave in Cache Valley’s mountains while hiking. Skeptical of Sasquatch stories despite extensive wilderness experience, he found an artificially excavated chamber behind a boulder, containing signs of past use. After a rattlesnake encounter and a hailstorm, he returned to find the cave sealed by another boulder. Feeling watched, he spotted large footprints and encountered a tall, hairy, humanoid figure who silently gestured for him to leave. Unlike typical Bigfoot descriptions, this intelligent being lacked glowing eyes or a foul smell. The experience made him a believer, though he’s unsure if he’ll return to the cave.

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