Tales From The Dark Forest
6 Backpacking Horror Stories | Black Screen For Sleep | TRUE Camping & Hiking Stories | Rain Sounds
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It changed my life. And here's the best part. Your insurance may cover 100% of the cost of your medication. So go to trylifemd.com to have your eligibility checked right now. Get started today at trylifemd.com. That's T-R-Y-L-I-F-E-M-D dot com. What's going on everybody and welcome back to the channel. Tonight's terrifying video, I am giving you several horrifying backpack stories. Going out in nature, solo, alone. What could happen? We'll stay tuned. Now sit back, relax, dim those lights, and let's get spooky. I got a message from someone that read my story on another sub. I hadn't heard of Backwoods Creepy before, but I think this story qualifies. I've included my edits and replies to the original comment. This did blow up on me and got shared on several subs, but I can't find it here. I was backpacking with my dog in about 12 miles from the road and trailhead. So pretty, far from people, though popular enough that other hikers might be around, though we saw no one all day. About 2 AM, my dog starts this really low deep growl and wakes me up. Waiting on my headlamp and seeing his teeth showing and he's right on top of me. I hear heavy footsteps, black bear, moose, near the tent. I leash my dog so he doesn't tear through the tent, and the footsteps move farther away, but keep circling the tent. All my food and toiletries are hung in a tree in a bear bag, nothing in the tent the draw bears attention. I clap my hands, something is still circling the tent. Not something a moose would do, and a bear might if he wanted food, but I've got nothing but a really big dog with me. I decide to step out of the tent and with the leash in one hand and the bear spray in another, yelling "Hey bear!" The footsteps stop. My dog's nose is in the air telling me to look right, but there's nothing in my headlamp that I could see. Didn't hear anything run off, but it's quiet. I give it 5 minutes or so, and I get back in my tent, and it starts up again, slowly circling about 50 feet from me. Maybe an hour later, I hear the footsteps wander off into the woods. At dawn I take the dog and the bear spray and start looking for tracks. I find a clear path on the leaves that had been trampled, but no tracks. The dog's nose is on the ground and I follow his lead, and he follows the loop around our campsite. We finally see a few human footprints, not shoe tracks, a regular size, not bigfoot, bear human feet. Yep, a human turd and toilet paper. Some a-hole was wandering around the middle of nowhere near my tent, and circling my tent for an hour or more, and left a dump for me to find. ETA to reply to comment questions, themes in the comment replies. 1. Hiking and backpacking are incredibly safe. I've been doing this for decades, and this is the only weird experience I've ever had. The hiking community is incredibly friendly. The trails have become more crowded since COVID, and you're definitely seeing more people on trails, and less trail courtesy, litter leaving dog poop bags, pooping too close to the trail and not burying your poop. Also, I was very far from civilization. Five guys don't hike 12 miles to do harm, so I'm pretty sure they didn't carry toilet paper. The only incident that I know of that was an emotionally disturbed person stabbed two hikers in a Adirondack shelter somewhere in the southern part of the Appalachian Trail five or six years ago. I've hiked thousands of miles without a single dangerous human interaction. 2. I don't hike with the gun. They are too much weight to add for me on long multi-day hikes. I'm hiking in the northeast, the biggest predator to fear are black bear, coyote and bobcats. All of those are afraid of humans, especially this far from civilization. If I were in Mount Lyon, grizzly or wolf territory, I would carry a gun. Moose are scary and huge, and are not afraid of anything, especially in the fall rut period when testosterone's kick in. You need a really big caliber gun to stop a moose from charging, and that's a heavy gun. I've crossed paths with the moose three or four times, but they are so big, you could usually hear them crashing around long before you see them. I've never had a stair down, but my plans had always been that bear spray would disorient them enough for me to find somewhere safe. The biggest predator, humans, but sea point one above. 3. What I think happened. Much as I'd love to say it was a young Sasquatch, a skinwalker or a windigo, suggested in replies. I'm guessing it was a disoriented backpacker that left their tent the crap and got confused. I was hiking a somewhat popular long loop trail, and I believe someone was probably hiking the opposite way, and stopped the camp somewhere on trail ahead of me. I was backwoods camping, not at a campground. Regulations are that you need to be 200 feet off the trail and into the woods to set up a camp, so they could have been a quarter mile ahead on the trail and I would have never known unless they were noisy or smelt enough for my dog to let me know. The most likely explanation is that they were heavily under the influence, got up the crap and got lost on their way back to their tent and found my sight. They approached my tent and realized that they were wrong and tried to find their way back to their camp. Then they heard my dog and me yelling the scare off a bear and either thought I was a risk to them or too lit to answer back. The circle around my camp was several hundred feet and my tent wouldn't be visible for most of the loop. I was camping between several spruce trees. 4. I didn't get back to sleep. I couldn't get back to sleep. It was late September and sunrise was around 6 am. When we found the poop pile, I relaxed. I didn't realize that there would be anyone nearby as we were in a very tough area to get to, requiring going over two mountain summits from my direction and six other mountains in another direction. The total hike was about 40 miles, IIRC. We were going to be out for three nights and four days. After I realized it was a human, my first assumption was that there was a lost hiker. I text a friend that does search and rescue in the area to see if there was any reports of lost or overdue hikers. If there had been, I would have had my dog try to follow that trail to see if I could have found their campsite. As no one was missing, we broke camp and went on our way. Yes, he was the best dog ever. I lost him about five years ago. I know that dog would die for me. Several years after this incident, I got diagnosed with cancer. ETA, I've been in remission for several years and things look good. This dog was so in tune with me that he knew how shitty I was going to feel before I did. He would walk with me to the bathroom and sit right next to me as I puked my guts up. He'd walk me back to my bed, and let me rest my hand on his back if I needed a little help walking. Everyone has a heart dog, he was mine. I swear he knew I had cancer before I did. He used to sniff me right where my tumor was located. I still get teary-eyed thinking of him. Rest in peace, big guy. Even the most inexperienced adventurers in the UK have heard of Dartmoor, stretching out across the large rural country of Devon. This national park hosts some of the best hiking and wild camping that the British Isles had to offer. And just under 1,000 square kilometers, the barren plains of this historical moorland are a perfect place for an introverted solo hiker like myself to escape to, and unwind for a few days. Getting lost in between the millennia-old Karens and the gentle woodland on its borders sometimes feels more like home than home. It's just such a pity that, despite my adoration for this place, I only intend to return. Buenos dias world from the San Diego Zoo Wildlife Alliance, I'm Marco Wint, and I'm Rick Schwartz, and we're your host for Season 3 of Amazing Wildlife, a show from iHeart Radio Ruby Studio and the global conservation organization behind the San Diego Zoo and the San Diego Zoo Safari Park. Listen as we dive into the efforts here in San Diego and spotlight the heroes working worldwide to care for the species you know and love. Listen to amazing wildlife on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. [Music] [Music] Once more, I myself have been too many times to count. This started about five years ago, with a spontaneous, two-day hike from one side of Dartmoor to the other. I lugged my heavy budget backpack and hardly broken in boots across mile after mile of mildly undilated moorland, and I fell in love with the place overnight. Even now, I could remember peering out of my tent on a crisp morning on the second day, marveling at a blanket of mist that covered all the slopes before me from my vantage point to top Snowden. Beside me, a Karen, a mound of rocks serving as a waypoint older than the first creature to enter this place kept a patient watch over a view that hasn't changed for thousands of years. Infatuation was inevitable. Part of my obsession was the history of this place, and of that there's plenty. When we humans find somewhere, especially a place so desolate and blank, it's hard not to put our mark on it over time. A navigation marker here, a rock formation there, and eventually, even somewhere as rugged and otherworldly as Dartmoor can feel somewhat populated. Most of these man-made additions are harmless. Simple minor alterations to the landscape that serve no purpose other than to make it somewhat less unknown, less feral. Others, however, invite something ancient and powerful that I do not wholly understand. Being an avid adventurer and someone with the habit of collecting souvenirs, it's not uncommon for me to steal away small scrapes of history from these places from my own keeping. Since my first trip to Dartmoor five years ago, I've amassed a fairly large collection of small rocks and stones from various carons, tombs, and rock formations around Dartmoor, only for purposes of having little reminders of Dartmoor around the house. Before you call me a looter, please understand that this habit is entirely harmless. There's more than enough stones on Dartmoor to go around, and I certainly don't disturb any such sight in the process of finding a souvenir to take home. Despite my love of Dartmoor, I should only be returning there once more, if I even make it, and my intention for it is to be a short expedition. This is due to something, exactly what I cannot say, that I uncovered on my most recent hike there. A few weeks ago, I decided to embark on a multi-day wild camp in Dartmoor. Initially, it might appear strange given that we are in the mist of winter. However, it's something I've done a couple of times before, and I've been planning since summer last year. If you get the timing just right, you can stay out of the moors while it's blanketed in snow yet remain comfortable in surprisingly mild weather. Such conditions make for a really spectacular trip. That said, this year we didn't get the snow I had hoped for, and instead I found myself traipsing around through suitably miserable rain and fog. Still, I enjoyed myself, made the most of it, and on the morning of day three set off from my campsite towards my lunchtime waypoint, Child's Tomb. Child's is a bit of a Dartmoor urban legend. In the middle of the southern half of Dartmoor, perched unassumingly on the side of a gentle slope, is a small tomb and cross made of granite. The tomb itself is of no great size or importance, and historians suggest there isn't even anything buried there. The granite slabs that make up the tomb are no larger than six feet long, and the cross stands are many feet high. Taking the tomb are a number of other similarly cut slabs in a circular formation. All of which had been largely overrun with grass and moss, as time worn them down into a boggy peat. The legend that accompanies the tomb, should you believe the local storytellers, is that in the 11th century, a man by the name of Ordoff became separated from a hunting party on the moors and, due to severe weather, died shortly after. His body was recovered by local monks and, for the purposes of inheriting Ordoff's estate, carried back to a nearby town and buried. The tomb was erected in his memory, and the title Child the Hunter bestowed upon the unlucky man. At approximately 9 a.m., the already unfavorable weather took a turn, and I found myself navigating by GPS alone. Even in good visibility, the moors can be difficult to traverse, but with the fog coming down as hard as it was, and the rain blowing sideways I could see no more than a few meters in front of me clearly, anything beyond blurred into a uniform gray. Taking my GPS device, I trudged through boggy, moorland gradually towards Child's tomb. By 11 a.m., the faint granite cross in the distance became vaguely traceable through the fog, and grew bit by bit until I found myself within the stone slab circle perimeter. Hungry and thirsty, and eager to get out of the rain, I pitched my small lightweight tent on the leeward side of the tomb and got inside. Within minutes, I was recovering in the warm glow of my camping stove, taking whatever pleasure I could from the view of torrential rain and fog beating down on the desolate moorland I was marooned on, Child's tomb waited patiently behind me. After brief respite, I dawned my waterproof clothing again and packed away my tent. The plan was to walk southeastwards towards Buckfastley, camping overnight on the way. In all going well, I should be back at my car before midday the next day. Before setting off, however, I fumbled around Child's tomb looking for a small souvenir. A pebble from the floor would have sufficed, but the grass around the tomb was surprisingly barren, so I began looking for something closer to the tomb itself. There, atop one of the stone slabs, a small sharp fragment of granite stuck underneath the cross, which, I suppose, was where the fragment originally came from. Beneath the fragment, however, wedged between two of the tomb's large granite slabs, something plastic caught my eye. I reached in and pulled out a transparent map bag containing crumpled paper that, despite the water coating the bag film, I could see had been written on. In hastily scribbled pen, the utmost sheet of paper had "read me" inscribed on it, barely legible through the bag's creases and condensation. I could see the paper inside had already become somewhat damp, so not wanting to saturate it further. I put the map bag into my waterproof trousers pocket, along with the granite fragment, and went about navigating my way through the fog south eastwards. I never did sleep on the moors that night. In fact, by 1 AM I was back at my car, breathless, drenched, in a state of panic I had never thought possible. The rain and fog remained steadfast in its commitment to drive away any semblance of keeping one's bearings and guided only by a GPS device and the occasional caron. I walked for what felt like hours. Not before long, I could sense the sun going down, somewhere far beyond the clouds that hid it from my view, and I dawned my head torch with the plan to make camp by the next waypoint. As I began a slight incline towards the summit a rider's hill, I suddenly became aware of the fact that I was no longer alone. No sighting had spurred this sensation, no noise had alarmed me. The moors were, to an observer beyond me, as barren and lonely as they were a few minutes prior. But I came to an alert standstill, unable to move further, stuck with the knowledge that something now followed me. I hesitated, listening out for a noise other than the rain falling on my hood, morbidly hoping to hear my stalker before turning around and facing them. No such noise came, and I turned sheepishly, only to find no other follower other than the fog itself. I doubled around again. This time certain, I would lock eyes with another traveler of this barren land appearing through the mist. But again, I was met with emptiness alone. For some time, I stood there under the rain and the dimming light, puzzled as to why I suddenly felt so harassed, and eventually assigned my madness to an empty stomach, and kept walking up the slope, planning a heavy meal once camp had been made at the summit. A top rider's hill sits a cairn, about 12th... Buenos dias world from the San Diego Zoo Wildlife Alliance, I'm Marco Wint, and I'm Rick Schwartz, and we're your host for Season 3 of Amazing Wildlife, a show from iHeart Radio Ruby Studio and the global conservation organization behind the San Diego Zoo and the San Diego Zoo Safari Park. Listen as we dive into the efforts here in San Diego, and spotlight the heroes working worldwide to care for the species you know and love. Listen to Amazing Wildlife on the iHeart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts. Eat wide and as tall as me. It serves as a waypoint on the moor as akin to a lighthouse at sea when the visibility is good. But when shrouded in thick fog of the evening, it didn't appear to be unless I crept over the brow of the hill. As I did, something moved beyond the cairn, something black, about the size of a large dog that moved close to the ground as I came into view. I stopped, again suffocated by the sensation of no longer being alone. I stared at the edge of the cairn where I had seen the creature retreat from my view, sickened by the realization that it now hid behind the rocks waiting for me. I stayed motionless for minutes, listening to the wind against the rocks for the noise of the creature shuffling about. Silence greeted me again. I can't say how many times I circled the cairn in the rain, looking for this creature. In my more confident moments, I told myself that it was a stray dog, perhaps lost by its owner in the fog earlier that day. But the image of it slinking away behind the cairn as I came over the brow of the hill quickly removed such delusions. No creature I've ever seen had moved in such a way, despite appearing to hide. The movement struck me as predatory in nature, as of it only to hide for the purpose of luring me in. Circle after circle of the cairn with no trace of the stray dog or otherwise, convinced me that the cold and dehydration may be playing roles in this. And I quickly pitched my tent, unable to stop checking over my shoulder as I did so. By the time the tent was pitched in my dinner cooking, the grey fog that had surrounded me during the day had turned to the black shroud of a winter's night. I was tired, wet, cold and hungry. And by all means had forgotten about the papers I'd found a child's tomb earlier that day. I ate my food, enjoying the warmth of my tent, assigning the creature I'd seen to nothing more than an exhaustion-induced hallucination. After eating I cleaned my cookware and laid on my sleeping bag, but stopped when interrupted by the sound of rocks tumbling down the cairn nearby. My torch came to light immediately, and within seconds, I had dawned myself in waterproof said my boots. I left the tent into the cold, wet air and, terrified of what I might find, directed the beam of my flashlight through the rain to the cairn only a few feet away. As my light passed over one side of the cairn, something shifted beyond the rocks in the fog. The light caught a brief glimpse of something devilish, black matted fur, four legs, and an eye moving through the fog. It was larger than it seemed before, somewhere between a dog and a small horse. But its legs were short, and it traveled low to the ground. I caught a sighting of the beast only for a moment before it darted behind the cairn, and I heard more rocks tumbling. Over taken by fear, I turned and ran. My torch lit up specks a rain as it swung quickly back and forth as I sprinted down Rider's Hill. I tripped once, twice, maybe three times over mounds of peat and rocks on the way down. Whatever the beast pursued me or not, I don't know, as I dared not to look back. I ran until I reached the bottom of the hill, and my body commanded me to stop and breathe. Quiet, just the rain, darkness all around. Unable to muster the strength to climb the hill again, and terrified of whatever beast awaited me up there, I knew I had no choice but to walk through the night. I stood, delirious, and in panic, I trekked for hours through the darkness until I could make out the lights of bug-fast to lay in the distance. I reached my car at 1 AM, knowing that something followed me there. I drove home immediately. The next day, after a sleepless night, I recalled finding the papers at Child's Tomb. I cancelled the half-complete wash cycle of the wash machine, opening the door and pulling out my waterproof trousers, and retrieved the map bag from the pocket. Water had seeped into the bag, and the papers were more saturated than before, but I pulled them out and laid them on my kitchen table. The writing was still legible. Read me, it said on one sheet, scribbled in large capital letters. I tore it open, peeling it off the sheet below it. The writing was still readable. Bewareth cross for this tomb, it is guarded. The scribbled writing took up the entire page. The sheet below it was scribbled in similar writing. Child's beast protects this site. I turned the second sheet over, disturbed this tomb at your peril. In April of 2019, I decided to solo camp the Pacific Crest Trail. It had been a dream of mine ever since watching the movie Wild. Anyways, after much planning, I finally began my journey on April 30th in Campo, California. Now I estimated that it would take me about six months or so to complete the trail with my final destination being Canada. On the first day of my hike, I managed to walk 25 miles despite the desert heat, which was an accomplishment for me. The further I hike the PCT though, is when I noticed just how beautiful yet dangerous the desert could be. I nearly stepped on some rattlesnakes on the trail. Anyway, it was my 53rd day on the trail when I finally reached the famous Kennedy Meadows. I decided to rest up there for a few days, zero days before heading back onto the trail again. Several days later I felt invigorated and was back on the trail. It was about a week after leaving Kennedy Meadows when inexplicable things began to happen to me. It was around Yosemite National Park when I noticed I was being followed. Now there were other hikers and even wildlife on the trail but this felt different and so, as a female hiker, I had to be cautious. I found myself walking even faster and according to my GPS, there was a campsite nearby. It was about 20 minutes later when I finally reached the campsite. I breathed a sigh of relief when I noticed there were several other hikers there too. Feeling exhausted, I decided to camp there for the night. After setting up my tent, I had something to eat before going to sleep. Around 11 PM I was awoken by someone or something calling my name. At first, I thought it was a dream that was until I heard it again. Needless to say, I didn't get much sleep that night. Anyways, the next few days on the trail were without incident. That all changed though on my 56th day on the trail when I somehow managed to twist my ankle which forced me off the trail for a few days. Since I was 20 miles or so from the nearest town, I decided to find a campsite and rest up until my ankle felt a little better. After I found my campsite, I pitched my tent and laid down for a bit. When I finally woke up, it was already dark outside. What made it even scarier was the fact that I was alone at this campsite. Although I was feeling apprehensive, I had no choice but to stay. At this point, I had forgotten about the voice that I had heard several days ago, but that was about the change. Anyways, I was hungry, but after my meal of beans and rice, I began to feel drowsy again and decided to lie down. As I was about to fall into a deep sleep, I heard someone shout, "Please help me, Kim! Please help me, Kim! Please help me, Kim!" In rapid succession, the voice was the same one from three days earlier which unnerved me more because I was certain now. This person or a thing was stalking me. Despite knowing this though, I still wanted to see who or what it was terrorizing me. I slowly unzipped my tent, and as I was opening the flap, I heard a scream. My heart began the pound. Using my flashlight, I scanned the nearby woods and saw a figure standing off in the distance. I couldn't make out any features, but it was humanoid in shape. "Who are you?" I shouted, "Who are you?" It replied, "What do you want?" "What do you want?" Now it was clearly mocking me at this point, and I was really scared. With nowhere to go though, I decided to stay in the safety of my tent until morning. I'm Rick Schwartz, and we're your host for Season 3 of Amazing Wildlife, a show from iHeartRadio Ruby Studio and the global conservation organization behind the San Diego Zoo and the San Diego Zoo Safari Park. Listen as we dive into the efforts here in San Diego, and spotlight the heroes working worldwide to care for the species you know and love. Listen to Amazing Wildlife on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcast, or wherever you get your podcasts. While I was sitting there, I could hear it circling my tent, which lasted for an hour or so. Right at the crack of dawn, I quickly packed up my gear, even though my ankle was still hurting. As I was packing up, I noticed several sets of footprints surrounding my tent, except these weren't human, confirming my worst fears. Anyways, I somehow managed to make it to the nearest town where I stayed for about a week in order for my ankle to heal. Despite my frightening experience though, I eventually got back onto the PCT and finally made it to Canada without another incident, although I was still being followed. As soon as I got back home, I did some research, and the results I got were about skin walkers and the Wendigo. Now, I'm not saying what I experienced on the PCT was supernatural, I'm a skeptic, but who knows what's real and what's not. Anyways, to those of you who are thinking about hiking the PCT, my story isn't intended to discourage you from hiking it, but rather it's a cautionary tale about the potential dangers on the trail. Stay safe everyone, and happy hiking. Several months ago, I decided to go road-tripping through California after I was laid off due to the recent pandemic. Fortunately for me, I had some money saved up and was able to buy myself a small but practical RV, which included a kitchen, a bathroom, and a large comfortable bed. Anyways, it had always been a dream of mine to visit the national parks of the U.S. after reading the book, Missing 411. My first destination was going to be Yosemite National Park, where I had planned on staying for the whole month with my two Huskies Daisy and Violet in order to conduct my own investigation into several high-profile missing persons cases for a book I was writing. I had 40 more miles to go before reaching Yosemite, so I decided to find a place where I could park my RV for the night. I was getting pretty tired and was in desperate need of sleep. I drove around for an hour or so before I finally found a spot next to a very secluded beach along the Pacific Coast Highway, which was not on the map, where I parked my RV. I was used to stealth camping especially at night, as I did it several times before in order to save money and being female. I always took precautions while traveling solo. I always carried a weapon of some sort with me too, just in case I encountered some crazy person on the road. Anyways, it was around ten at night when I decided to take a walk along the beach in order to stretch my legs before going to bed. I grabbed my flashlight and two Huskies then set off for the beach. Even with my flashlight on though, everything around me was still pitch black. Walking along the edge of the beach, I could hear the waves crashing against the rocks that line the shoreline. As I continued my walk on the beach, I tripped on something nearly falling face first into the sand. Pointing my flashlight down, I noticed a tattered sleeping bag and various other camping gear scattered along the beach. "What the hell?" I asked out loud. Just then, I heard a woman's voice calling me from the water, followed by a loud splash causing both of my dogs to start growling. "What is it, girls?" I asked my dogs. I pointed my flashlight in the direction of the splash, and that's when I saw something bobbing up and down in the water. The voice continued the call having a sort of weird hypnotic effect on me. My instincts immediately kicked in when I realized it was a person. Well, not exactly. I removed my shoes and quickly jumped in. As I swam towards the figure, I could hear Daisy and Violet barking near the shoreline. I could still see the figure as I approached them, but something felt off, and I instinctively clutched at the pocketknife that I kept in my bra. Then, all of a sudden, I heard an ear piercing scream reminding me of a mountain lion. This stopped me dead in my tracks, and so I quickly turned around and swam breathlessly back to shore. A few seconds later, when I looked back again, I noticed the figure was now gone. Just then, I felt something grab my leg pulling me underwater and causing a searing pain throughout my whole body. The hand was green and gnarled with extremely long nails that reminded me of talons. The figure kicked in as I tried to kick whatever it was that grabbed my leg, then I remembered my pocketknife. I reached for it inside my bra, then brought it down hard on the creature's hand. It let out a blood curdling scream before finally releasing my leg. Once again, I swam back to shore where Daisy and Violet were still barking. When I was safe out of the water, I grabbed my two dogs and quickly ran back to my RV. I locked the door, then jumped into the driver's seat, then started the engine. When I turned the headlights on though, I nearly shit my pants. Because you see, inside the water were hundreds of glowing red eyes. Needless to say, I didn't stick around long. I never found out what it was I experienced that night, and nor did I want to. Anyways, just a warning to you wary travelers if you happen to stumble upon a beach late at night that's not on any map. Stay out of the water or you might not be so lucky. Several years ago, I went on a road trip through California and at times, I found myself boondocking on public lands in order to save money. Anyways, on one particular night during my trip, I decided the boondock in Death Valley where I experienced something quite scary that I'll never forget. I started my trip in Joshua Tree National Park, reaching Death Valley about three weeks later. I arrived in Death Valley around 5pm, and immediately found a spot where I wanted the park for the night. For some odd reason though, the place wasn't found on any map. So I looked for any clue as to where I was, but only found a sign that said "camp 13". Regardless though, I was happy because I had a place all to myself, or so I thought. It appeared to be an old mining town, and remarkably though some of the buildings were still standing, and it felt so serene. There was the edge of the town though, there was an entrance to a mineshaft which had been boarded up for what seemed like a while. You could actually hear the wind blowing through the mind which gave me the creeps. After I parked my beat up RV in the spot I chose, I let my two huskies out the play, then I began preparing dinner. By the time dinner was ready it was already dark, but fortunately for me the sky was clear, so I was able to gaze out at the stars as I ate my dinner. As I sat there staring out into the night sky, I could hear my dogs barking frantically. Looking over in their direction, I noticed that they were very close to the boarded up mineshaft. Beering for their safety, I called out their names and at first they didn't respond. Something must have spooked them badly enough I thought. Once again I called out to them, and this time they came running back to me. It was at this point I noticed that something else was with my dogs. Although it was dark, the moon gave off just enough light that I could make out a human shaped figure. My first thought was that it was some homeless person taking refuge in one of the buildings, but boy was I wrong. I quickly stepped inside my RV and grabbed the gun which I kept hidden under the driver's seat. I ran over to my dogs, but by the time that I got there, the creature was already gone. I grabbed my dogs and made my way back to the RV. Just as I closed the door, something slammed into us causing the RV to shake. My dogs then started the growl at the door, and that's when I heard something scraping the outside of the RV, like the sound of nails against a chalkboard. The sound made my dogs go crazy. As I tried calming them down, there was a loud thud on top of the roof, and I could hear the thing growling as it made its way towards the skylight. I quickly made my way to the rear too, and when I was directly under the spotlight, I aimed my gun upwards. What I saw though, is something I'll never forget. The creature was covered in a brown fur, and it had a long snout much like a dog's, but longer. The thing's teeth appeared to have blood on them like it had just feasted on some poor animal, and it had canines which were at least an inch long. Its eyes though were the scariest. Buenos dias world from the San Diego Zoo Wildlife Alliance, I'm Marco Wint. And I'm Rick Schwartz. And we're your host for Season 3 of Amazing Wildlife, a show from iHeartRadio, Ruby Studio, and the global conservation organization behind the San Diego Zoo and the San Diego Zoo Safari Park. Listen as we dive into the efforts here in San Diego, and spotlight the heroes working worldwide to care for the species you know and love. Listen to Amazing Wildlife on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcast, or wherever you get your podcasts. As they were glowing like bright yellow lights. The creature snorled at me as a tore away at the skylight trying to make its way inside. I studied myself as I carefully pulled the trigger, hitting the creature and causing it the howl and pain. This was my cue to leave, as I jumped into the driver's seat, put the key in the ignition and sped off, even leaving some of my camping gear behind. The next day, I contacted the sheriff from the next town over, and by some miracle, I was able to find the old mining town. As we entered the town, I could see that my gear was thrown about, and there were bloody footprints that seemed to lead back to the mineshaft. Oh, there was some fur found near my belongings at which the sheriff took some samples. He then took down my statement, and said he would contact me if anything else came up. So here's a warning to anyone wanting the boondock in Death Valley. If you happen to come across an old mining town called Camp 13, please don't stop. Or you might not be as lucky as me. As some of you may know, I'm the person who's been posting about that scary stuff I have been experiencing here in Korea, but anyways, I'll get to the point about three days ago. I received an email from one of my friends who lives in Japan. Receiving emails from him wasn't uncommon, since we often communicated by emails and video chat. Usually, his emails would contain pictures and videos he had taken while ghost hunting, urban exploring the different locations throughout Japan. One day though, he sent me a really disturbing email that I feel I need to share with all of you today. Note, I purposely omitted the names of the person or persons in this email in order to protect their identity. 2. Blank. Subject. Okie-Hara Forest. Hi blank. It's been several weeks since we last spoke. How is everything in Korea? I hope all is well. Anyways, the reason why I am writing to you today is that I have been in the hospital for the past several weeks and in fact, it is here where I am writing you this email. Let me get to the reason why I ended up in the hospital in the first place. About three weeks ago, my girlfriend, you know, a yummy, decided to explore Akihara Forest. I am sure you've heard of Akihara Forest, right? You know, suicide forest. Anyways, we drove throughout the morning, finally arriving at 2 in the afternoon. We planned on staying the night so we loitered around the visitor's center until it closed. When the last of the visitors were gone, we retrieved our gear from the car and noticed that there was another car still in the parking lot. The car had several layers of dust on it like it had been there for a while and we thought that it was odd. In hindsight though, I wished I would have seen this as some sort of warning. We entered the forest at around 5 and noticed that it was really dark despite it still being light out but we were still able to see all the trees. We stood there in awe as we stared at the massive pine trees and although we were enjoying ourselves, we couldn't shake the feeling that we were being watched and that was unnerving to say the least. As a yumi and I walked deeper into the forest, we began to find various items of clothing like pants, socks that were stroned along the path. Along with the clothing, we had found several pairs of shoes, some food items, backpacks, and tents that people must have left behind. Strangely enough, there were some ropes hanging off several of the trees that in itself was eerie. As we ventured further into the forest, we were aware that someone or something was stalking us and as if on cue we heard several branches from behind us break confirming our worst fears. We started the run and could hear whatever it was pursuing us as it broke branches off the trees. As it was chasing us, it let out a blood curdling scream that echoed throughout the forest causing the hairs on my arms to rise. Yumi began the scream and when I looked back I could see that something reached out from the shadows and grabbed her but before I could do anything, she was already gone. I stopped just for a second to take in what had just happened and that's what I saw it. Something lingering near the trees. As I got a clear review, I could tell that it was tall, very tall but I couldn't make out its face because it was obscured by the shadows. I was frozen in fear as it stood there unmoving. Then I heard the bones in its body begin to break as its body was starting to come alive. As it crept itself towards me, I started the run. I didn't care that my chest hurt or that I couldn't breathe and all I wanted to do was get as far away from here as possible. I ran blindly around the forest not knowing where I was going as that thing pursued me. I wept for a Yumi as I ran but it was around this time I noticed a light off in the distance. Without questioning it, I ran towards it and as I got closer, I saw that it was a man holding one of those Coleman lanterns. I knew it was the owner of the car that we had seen earlier and he had seemed to be mumbling something to himself but I couldn't make out what he was saying. Anyways, he silently motioned for me to go inside the tent where I was able to rest for a bit, eventually passing out. When I finally woke up the next morning, I had no memory of the previous night. Slowly, the horrible memories of the last night came flooding back to me and the realization that my girlfriend was gone caused me to weep again. I knew I had to contact the authorities and maybe I could use the man's phone. Looking around, I saw that he wasn't in the tent but as I stepped outside I was hit with a damn awful smell and that's when I saw the body of the man who had saved me and I guessed he had been there for a while. I covered him up with one of the blankets I had found in the tent and then silently thanked him. I managed to find my way out of that forest pretty easily as the man's tent was right next to the entrance of the forest. Let me tell you, this place can play tricks on your mind. Anyways, I collapsed soon after making my way out of the forest and when I finally came too, I was in the hospital. The doctors told me that I should be released in two days and as soon as I am, I'm going back to that forest to find my girlfriend and kill whatever it was that took her. Anyways, I'm really tired now so take care of yourself, okay? Your friend, blank. After I finished reading my friend's email, I immediately searched online for a flight to Japan because you see, I know what he is like when he's grieving. Before, I can't let him go alone. Buenos dias world from the San Diego Zoo Wildlife Alliance, I'm Marco Wint. And I'm Rick Schwartz. And we're your host for season three of Amazing Wildlife, a show from iHeartRadio Ruby Studio and the global conservation organization behind the San Diego Zoo and the San Diego Zoo Safari Park. Listen as we dive into the efforts here in San Diego and spotlight the heroes working worldwide to care for the species you know and love. Listen to Amazing Wildlife on the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcast or wherever you get your podcasts.