I’ve been a park ranger for 37 years. I’ve worked for several parks. Wherever I go, there’s usually a state park nearby. For years I did my job with not much more than the normal amount of problems. You know, the kind that I’m supposed to solve like lost kids, lost parents, lost pets, pretty much if it could get lost it would. And I was usually the one to find it. That was my gift.
These last few years, since I’ve moved to my current park, I’ve found a lot more than I’ve bargained for.
I’ve seen these stories on YouTube of creatures that lurk in the parks and cause all kinds of havoc. Well, it turns out some of them are truer than you might want to believe.
And then there’s the rest. Making ridiculous claims of incredible monsters that stalk and feast on the hapless hikers in the wee hours of the morning only to be caught or killed by the heroic park ranger. (The monsters, not the hikers)
I’ve listened to so many of these stories while I keep watch in a fire tower or as I’m driving through the park. I usually end up laughing the whole way through the story. I know they are made up and that’s fine. I know there’s entire websites that deal with these so called true stories. They even post in in the instructions to pretend your story is real even if it isn’t.
I’ve read so many of the comments in these videos asking if it’s true. Accusing the author of making it up. And yet they watch.
So yeah, I get it, people want to be scared. They want to be entertained.
The problem is most people want to read or see or hear something scary then come back to reality and laugh it off. They’ve never experienced what it’s like to… well let’s just say my story is a little different.
I get the irony of complaining about park ranger stories only to tell my own.
It seemed a bit odd when I started working at my current park that they’d had a rash of cryptid reports. But it seemed like they were never the same one. Bigfoot would be sighted, then next a Skinwalker, after that would be a werewolf. It was like the park had suddenly had a cryptid population explosion.
Seeing that I was the new guy despite having thirty plus years on the job, plus having a reptation for finding people, I got elected to chase down these creatures. Lucky me. I don’t know why they didn’t pick Eli to do it. He knew these hills and valleys better than anybody. Plus, the man was nearly seven feet tall and didn’t seem to have an ounce of fat on him. The only way I’d ever want to fight him was with a chainsaw. Unfortunately, he also had a second job and only worked as a ranger part time.
But Eli was the most softspoken soul you’d ever want to meet. The gentle giant we used to call him. He had worked for the park most of his adult life. It was a real shame what happened to him…
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
This park didn’t have the highest mountains or the biggest river, but it had plenty of places for someone or something to hide if they didn’t want to be found.
Every time I drove through the ribbon of asphalt that cut through the heart of the forest, I was reminded of that. Sometimes if I was listening to one of those creepypastas while driving through the densest parts of the park I would have to shut it off so I wouldn’t feel like something was watching me from the trees.
Ironically, something was.
I drove to the trail where the last set of hikers went missing. It had been over a week and the search crews were starting to lose hope. I walked the trail the hikers had walked and scoured the ground for any track, any sign of a struggle. By the time I’d reached the last spot they were seen I hadn’t noticed a single thing out of place. It was almost as if they went willingly to their demise.
Of course, that was negative thinking. I had a problem with that. I always thought of the worst thing that could happen. No one knew for sure these people were dead, but every day decreased their chances of a happy ending.
It was a strange thing looking for people and hoping they were alive when most of us knew there was no way they could be.
Something made me venture in a certain direction. Call it chance, call it dumb luck, call it that thing that helped me find so many people where others had failed. I walked up to an area that was covered in heavy brush, nearly impossible to get through. I pulled out my hunting knife and started hacking away until I had formed my own trail.
Thorns and sharp branches tore at me, ripped my uniform, but still I kept pressing forward. Finally, I made it through into a small clearing. That’s where I saw it.
There was a backpack that had been ripped to pieces and there were spots of blood on it. I immediately radioed for others to follow my path and soon was the center of a bee’s nest of activity as they scoured the area for any other clues.
Unfortunately, they found some. Off in the corner, hidden from prying eyes was three bodies. They were obviously dead and had been decaying for a while. There were several large bites taken out of each one. I took pictures of the bite marks as well as the victims.
Then I started my own investigation. I was no longer looking for the victims. I was looking for the creature who had done this heinous thing. Whatever it was needed to be taken care of.
I know as a park ranger I’m supposed to think of the animals’ well being as well as the people who visited the park, but this…
This needed a response that had nothing to do with the safety of the animal. This was about protecting humanity from an apex predator who felt it could kill with impunity.
I searched the area for tracks and once I got away from where the bodies were, and all the rest of the people, destroying any tracks I might be able to use. Maybe I should’ve waited to call them down until I had gathered my evidence first.
I lingered on the edge of the scene and was able to find some decent tracks. Whatever it was was massive. I pulled out a tape measure and measured the footprint at over fifteen inches.
I took some more pictures then went back with the rest of the rescue crew. It was starting to get dark. I knew I wouldn’t find anything right now anyway. We had been tearing through the woods with all the subtlety of a fourth of July parade. Anything that might have been around was scared off by now.
I tied a handkerchief around a tree branch and pounded it into the ground close to where the tracks started so I would have a good place to begin my track tomorrow.
Someone had run back to a vehicle and brought back some body bags. Why anyone would bring body bags on a search party is beyond me, but we carried out the bodies with a good bit of difficulty. The thorns and branches ripped at the bags until they were nearly useless. Only Eli was able to get his body out fairly rip free by slinging it over his massive shoulder.
I know it wasn’t the most respectful thing to do, but it got the job done.
By the time I got home I was exhausted. I showered grabbed a quick bite and went to bed.
In the morning I felt refreshed and ready to go find this thing. I made sure I had my sidearm on today with plenty of ammo. I carry a .44 magnum. If I need to shoot, I want to make sure I’ve got enough firepower.
Some regular woodlands creatures like a bear could take round after round from a nine-millimeter and just get angrier. The thing I was pursuing was anything but a regular wood land creature. It had gotten the taste for human blood and would need to be put down.
That was my goal, not to study it, not to relocate it, but to destroy it.
I went back to where the search had ended so tragically yesterday. That’s where my mission began.
As I looked around the area something struck me as odd. I remembered putting the branch with the handkerchief on it near where the one footprint was, only now it had been moved and the footprint was gone.
I pulled out my cell phone and looked at the picture I had taken yesterday. Plain as day there was the footprint. I could see the brush around it. I went to the place that perfectly matched the brush from yesterday only the footprint was gone.
Was this thing covering its tracks? And how would it know to do something like that? Things weren’t adding up. I found where I had placed my marker and started searching the area looking for more tracks. I chose a direction where I thought I saw a faint trail and followed it. Several hundred yards later there was a clearing. At the edge was a partial footprint.
I snapped a picture of the print and the surrounding area just in case someone tried to mess with my directions again. When I started through the field, I heard a sound. It was a long mournful wail that didn’t sound like any animal call I was familiar with. I tried to nail down a direction, but it was difficult with the hills around the area sending echoes all through the park.
I got a general feel for where it came from and started off in that direction knowing there were lots of hollows and caves that would make good hiding spots if your goal was to stay away from people.
As I walked, I got the distinct feeling I was being watched. I know lots of people say that in these stories but after thirty-seven years of doing this, you get a sense about such things. I wasn’t sure if this was a stalking, dangerous watching or just curiosity. I do know the feeling didn’t go away for a while and the woodland creatures had gone silent and stayed silent for a long time. And then just as suddenly as if I had stepped through a door, the sounds were back.
I stopped and turned around to look at my surroundings. I pulled out my phone and took pictures all around me. Then I took a step back the way I had came and all the noises disappeared. I stepped forward and they returned. I stepped back and they were gone.
I wanted to explore and map out this anomaly, but I knew that would distract from my hunt. So once again I placed a marker in the ground and took a picture of it.
As I stepped away from it, I found my mind drawn back to the quiet place. It was strange and unnatural. I wanted to find out all about it. Even my hunt seemed somehow less important. A curiosity about this place was growing in my mind like a sickness. I had to find out.
I stopped and turned. That’s when I saw it. At first, I wasn’t sure I had. There were just trees, but one of them had an abnormality. A stump of a branch that had fallen off years ago. Only it wasn’t a stump, it was a head. The tree was massive, and this thing was behind it. The color of its head almost matched the tree. The thing that made it stand out was the eyes. It was leaning from behind the tree staring at me. I don’t know if it thought I couldn’t see it or if it didn’t care if I did.
I was around fifty yards away from it. Too far for an accurate pistol shot. So, I began moving slowly toward it. I picked a spot in the trees just to the left of it and stared at that spot, moving slowly toward it while keeping my real target in my peripheral vision. I closed the distance between us to around twenty-five yards when I reached the quiet place.
It was strange that I didn’t notice before not only were the normal sounds of the forest silenced, but my own movements were muffled somehow.
I continued to inch my way closer to my prey, wanting to give myself the best possible chance of success. I slowly put my hand on my gun and pulled it out of the holster. In that instant, the head disappeared.
I went for broke, running toward the tree, keeping my eyes open for it running away. I got to the tree and stood ready on the far side. When I whipped around aiming my pistol, there was nothing there. I searched the tree line, but it was gone. I started second guessing myself when I looked down and saw a clear set of footprints.
I took pictures, but they were only small consolation to what I could’ve had.
I tried tracking it but after ten feet it became jumbled in the brush, and I lost the track.
But it was here, I knew it. And it was curious about me. Maybe I could use that to my advantage.
I went home and packed up for a camping trip. I came back out to the spot I saw it and made camp in a clearing. It was strange to be on the quiet side. I wish I would’ve set up camp where I could hear the nightly noises of crickets and woodland animals instead of this oppressive silence that made no sense. But I thought if it was quiet, I might be able to hear it approach.
I had baited the hook, and now armed with my pistol, hunting knife and a thermos full of hot coffee, I was hoping it would take the bait.
I sat by my small campfire and kept watch. A few hours in I made a fresh pot of coffee on the fire just to be sure my thermos was topped off. I knew I would be jittery as a June bug tomorrow, if I lived that long.
I heard a rustling off to my right. In a blink my gun was in my hand. I pulled out my flashlight and looked when something big stepped into the firelight. I aimed but didn’t fire when I saw green instead of brown.
Eli was standing there.
“Give me a heart attack, will ya?” I said putting my gun in the holster.
He stood there silent for a long time, like he often did.
“What are you doing out here?” he said.
“I’m hunting.”
“Hunting for what?”
“For that thing that killed those hikers.”
He seemed to consider that for a while.
“What are you going to do?” he said.
“What do you think I’m going to do? I’m going to kill it, stuff it, and hang it over my fireplace.”
He thought in silence again.
“Do you need any help?”
“Absolutely,” I said. “If I do manage to bag it, I’ll need someone your size to help me carry it out of here. Besides It’ll be nice to have some companionship while I’m out here. This silence is driving me about half crazy.”
He considered that, then found an old log and pulled it up to the other side of the fire.
“You want some coffee?” I said.
“No thanks.”
Then we sat in silence.
It was well into the night before either of us spoke again.
“I have the tent pitched,” I said. “Do you want to take a little rest and I’ll call you if I see anything?”
He looked at the tent.
“No, I think I’ll be fine,” he said. “What about you?”
“I’m good. I just wish this thing would show up so I can get down to business.”
He pondered that for a while.
“Why do you hate it so much?” he said.
“Because it killed those people,” I said. “That would be enough but to mutilate them was too much.”
“So, you’re willing to get blood on your hands to stop this thing from shedding blood?”
“Absolutely.”
Again, he silently soaked in my answers like a sponge.
“Why do you think it kills?” he said after a while.
“Well, it doesn’t seem to be for food, or we would’ve found a pile of bones instead of bodies. I think it does it for fun. And that’s the reason why I want it dead. Something that big and powerful that kills people for fun is something that needs to be put down.”
“What about man?”
“What about him?”
“Man kills for fun.”
“That’s not the same thing.”
“Why not?”
It was my turn to be quiet.
Eli stood and scanned the area. It wasn’t long until it was going to be light.
“I think I might have scared it off,” he said. “Sorry.”
“That’s ok. I might just call it a night,” I said. “Thanks for the company.”
He nodded then lumbered off as quietly as he came.
I took another drink of coffee and sat there for another twenty minutes, hoping for one last chance to put this thing in my sights.
The first grey of morning sky dissolved my resolve. I started packing up when I heard a scream. I whipped around and ran in the direction it came from. I pulled out my gun and my flashlight flying through the brush toward the sound.
I reached it and wished so badly that I hadn’t. It was standing there plain as day. Huge and covered in brown hair. It was at least seven feet tall with claws bared. But it wasn’t me it was looking at. There on the ground, laying in a pool of blood was Eli.
I couldn’t see his face and as much blood as was there I’m not sure I wanted to. The thing looked up at me then grabbed Eli like he weighed nothing, threw him over its shoulder and ran off.
It was all I could do to get a shot off. I didn’t want to hurt Eli so I aimed low. I must’ve hit it in the leg or thigh because I heard it cry out.
I followed hoping it would let Eli go and I could get a clear shot. It was moving fast for being injured and carrying someone Eli’s size. I was able to track a clear trail of blood. It must’ve been bleeding badly. Maybe I would get my wish without having to fire another shot.
The trail continued but was starting to get thin. Either it was bleeding out or it had managed to slow the bleeding somehow. The thrill of the hunt was burning in my veins. But I forgot the rule about wounded animals.
As I tracked it, the blood suddenly bent in a different direction. I turned and there it was.
You know how some of the stories in those videos when the creature sees the ranger their eyes lock and there’s a moment of tension before something happens.
That didn’t happen with me.
As soon as this creature saw me it ran at me, claws out, showing incredible aggression. There was no doubt it wanted me dead.
It slashed at me with razor sharp claws, knocking the gun from my hand as it ripped at my chest. I spun away from the attack my shirt ripped open and chest bleeding. It came at me again as I felt around for my gun. I dove to the side as it stumbled on its wounded leg.
I used the moment to find my knife hoping to even the odds. It wasn’t very likely though. Even wounded this thing easily outmatched me for size, strength, and quickness.
My adrenaline was flowing as I went after it slashing with my knife and connecting with its face. It roared in pain as it dove at me again arms wide to prevent me from escaping. It brought the arms together in a vicious slashing motion that tore into my shoulder.
I went down hard still holding my knife, but it wasn’t giving me time to recover. It grabbed me and lifted me up squeezing me in a bear hug. I could feel pops and snaps in my back. I knew I was done for. I did the only thing I could think of. I kicked as hard as I could into its leg wound.
It dropped me as it screamed in pain. I found my knife and buried it in the thing’s chest.
It stopped as though all resistance was gone. It fell forward in a heap gasping on the ground. I rolled it over and pulled my knife out bringing a lot of blood with it.
I stood triumphant over it for a long moment.
It held up a hand in a weak motion I didn’t understand.
My mind screamed at me. Where was Eli?
I ran around desperately searching, ignoring the pain in my chest and shoulder. Twilight bathed the land in blood red making me fear even more what I would find if I could even find him. I began entertaining the idea that it had thrown him over the side of the cliff.
I stopped to rest. I was sucking air badly. I looked down at my chest wound and knew I needed to get the bleeding stopped. But I had to find Eli first. Desperation creeped in when I noticed a patch of green that didn’t quite match the brush. I limped toward it and relief washed over me as I saw the ranger uniform.
I collapsed beside him. He was laying face down and I wasn’t sure I wanted to see his wounds, but I had to. I rolled him over with surprising ease and gasped.
He had no face.
It wasn’t ripped off or anything like that. He just had no face because he was a dummy. I ripped open the uniform and found stuffing. I picked him up and he felt like a pillow.
Realization hit be like a sledgehammer.
I limped back to the creature. It was barely breathing.
I reached to its head and grabbed a fistful of hair. I ripped upward and the face came off. I stared down into eyes full of anger… Eli’s eyes.
As comprehension dawned, I asked the only question.
“Why?”
He gurgled blood unable to speak but trying anyway.
“Fun… “
He smiled, blood running from his mouth as red air bubbles formed. He stared at me as the light faded from his eyes.
I collapsed to the ground beside my co-worker who I had called friend for the last three years. I wondered if I had ever really known him.
It took me a long time to patch myself up enough to limp my way back to the ranger station. It took even longer to get patched up and back to normal.
But the longest it took was getting over what Eli had done.
I found out later during the investigation that he had been in a mental hospital for most of his childhood. That his schizophrenia had been diagnosed and treated. They truly thought he was stable.
It turned out he had been hunting in his bigfoot costume for years. It was only recently that he had begun to kill.
I keep thinking back to the last conversation we had and especially to the last word he said when I asked him why… ‘Fun’.
I’m posting this in hopes that others might understand what happened to the man I thought I knew, I thought was my friend. I know I don’t.
The doctors said that it’s most likely he truly thought he was playing a game. That when he went into his bigfoot persona the game was making it as real as possible by attacking and killing.
I look at the beautiful sunrise over the wonder of nature and all I can think of is death.
I’m tired of being a park ranger.
I’m tired of hearing the stories of creatures and killing.
I wonder how many of them could be someone like Eli.
Just playing a game.