I’d been living in my house for about a year before the knocking started. It didn’t happen often, probably once every 6-8 weeks. There would only be one or two knocks each time, and they always came from the woods behind my house. I never got a closeup view of what made them, and what few glances I managed were always obscured by trees or other cover. It was broadly-sized, a solid dark color, and appeared to stand upright. I nicknamed it “Whoop,” because that’s exactly how the weird call it seemed to make sounded. I definitely heard its “whooping” more often than the knocking. I’d always try to answer, but could never get another reply.
Now, I’m sure what you’re thinking, and before all this happened, I never thought or knew much about things like Bigfoot, ghosts, or the paranormal—and to reiterate, I still don’t know what Whoop even is because I never got an actual clear visual. If anything like that existed, I thought it just added more mystery to this world. I came out here to live a quiet simple life. I don’t want fame, attention, or publicity, and figured Whoop wanted the same. Provided we kept our boundaries, I thought the two of us could have a peaceful coexistence.
Shortly after the knocks began, my garden and animal pens started getting raided at night. It only happened once every so often, but something would pillage my crops, fruit trees, even steal one or two of my farm animals. My garden and pens can keep out animals of all sizes (this was the first time I ever had problems), but since whatever was doing this still managed to slip in and out with ease, I quickly realized it was Whoop. I tried using trail cameras to catch an image of it and as a potential deterrent. It worked at first, but Whoop eventually found a way around the cameras….and if it had to, smashed or knocked them off their posts.
After this happened a few more times, it became evident that Whoop’s nighttime visits occurred on the same days I heard the knocking. Discovering this correlation made me pay closer attention to the details of Whoop’s nocturnal marauding, which made me notice another pattern—it always either ransacked the garden or animal pens, and never did both on the same night. When I aligned the number of knocks heard each time, and which section was subsequently raided, another pattern became clear—One knock meant the garden. Two meant the pens.
The knocks, I thought, have to mean it was hungry, and whether it wanted a carnivorous or herbivorous meal. The next time I heard Whoop’s knocking, I put that theory to the test. It was a single loud knock that came around dusk, and was actually followed by a quick “whoop” about 15 minutes later. One knock should mean the garden, so I filled a bowl with fruits, vegetables, grain, nuts, and laid them out on a large flat rock about 20 yards into the tree line. I was hoping an offering like this could be my way of letting Whoop know I understood its message, and it would in turn stay out of my garden. Sure enough, it worked. I saw no signs of any disturbances in my garden the next morning, and everything I left for it on the rock was gone. This became my protocol whenever I heard the knocking, and it worked every time.
Then, a few months later, my boyfriend Jessie moved in with me….and the knocking stopped. Nothing happened for about 5-6 months, and I figured Whoop must have left the area. I told Jessie about the knocking and offerings I left for Whoop. Naturally he was skeptical about it, and when nothing happened those first few months after he moved in, it was hard to not blame him for thinking I was crazy.
Then, out of nowhere, the knocking resumed.
I was sitting on my back patio one evening, admiring the diamond necklace Jessie surprised me with when he came home earlier that day. It had a silver chain and heart-shaped diamond charm that was light pink in color with gold edging, and glimmered wondrously in the sunset’s rays. I actually jumped upon hearing the knocking—clear as day, and coming no more than 50 feet from inside the tree line. I should have been delighted to hear a sign from Whoop, but something was oddly different about these knocks that just didn’t sit right….
This time, there were three.
Three deep, hollow-sounding knocks. The first two were practically back-to-back, but the third came a few seconds later, throwing me off guard. Whoop never knocked three times before, I thought. What did three mean? Hoping to cover all the bases, I laid out a spread of fruits, vegetables, even included fish, sweets, and other random items on the offering rock. Jessie didn’t hear the knocking when it happened, but played along anyway, despite emphatically reiterating his skepticism. When I woke up the next morning, there didn’t seem to be any disturbances in the garden or pens. It looked like my offering worked….or so I thought. Upon stepping outside, I spotted something on my back patio—a large clump of knotty, thick, dark brown hair that I noticed had a streak of pink highlighting. I went to pick it up, but immediately dropped it and stumbled back into the kitchen, struggling to maintain my balance, while comprehending what I just saw….
There was more than just hair in that clump—it was an entire human scalp.
I sprung into the living room to get Jessie, and spilled onto the floor upon entering. I could only frantically point towards the kitchen’s backdoor and sputter panicked gibberish until Jessie managed to calm my nerves by firmly holding me in place.
“There-out-out there….the-the patio-is-some-thing….” I couldn’t even make complete sentences. “Hair…the-the-hair.”
Jessie looked more confused than worried. He got me onto the couch, saying he’d check it out, but wanted me to stay put until he returned. I heard Jessie open the kitchen door and step outside, where he remained for about five minutes—which to me, felt like hours. I was flooded with relief upon hearing Jessie step back inside and make his way down the hall, but he gave me an answer I didn’t expect.
“There’s nothing out there….” Jessie said as he reentered the living room. “What exactly did you see?”
Despite what he said, Jessie’s face had almost no color and he wore this flustered petrified expression, looking like he just saw a ghost. The worry on Jessie’s face made me feel horrible for scaring him like this, but there was no disputing what I saw.
“Jessie, when I went outside, there was a clump of hair….out on the patio,” I shakily replied. “Not just hair but an entire human fucking scalp. It must have….was….placed there by….something.”
I brought up calling the police, but Jessie quickly interjected.
“What are you gonna tell them—the ‘thing’ that lives in the woods behind my house, put a human scalp on my back patio, then took it back….?” Jessie asked with a noticeable tinge of sarcasm. “Even if they don’t think you’re crazy, they can’t do anything without proof….and according to you—it vanished!”
Jessie wasn’t fond of the law, but he made a point. Despite my reluctance, I went back outside with Jessie to poke around, but found no trace of a human scalp. It was moved, I thought. There was only one animal around here that could have done it with such impeccable covertness, and if that was the case, the prospect of it being able to get that close without me knowing still keeps me up at night. When I checked the offering rock, nothing I left out was touched, which made me even more unsettled. Jessie tried convincing me I mistook it for something else, but again—I knew what I saw.
Jessie managed to put me down for a nap later that day. It was dusk when I woke up, and despite regaining some composure, I felt no less on edge. The house, I noticed, contained an eerie stillness. I called for Jessie, but he didn’t respond. I went downstairs and found a note from Jessie in the kitchen, saying he had to make an emergency shipment for work, and would be gone for a few days. Jessie was a truck driver, and traveled a lot, so last-minute jobs springing up like this weren’t uncommon.
I tried calling his phone, but it went straight to voicemail, which also wasn’t unusual since the reception outside of town was subpar at best, and stayed like that for quite a while. Nonetheless, I was now completely alone in this house, and at a time when the last thing I wanted to be was by myself. I thought about leaving, but it was already dark, and I didn’t even feel comfortable venturing beyond my front door. Before going to bed, I made sure every light in the house was on, and any opening or entrance was closed and locked. Remarkably, the night passed without incident.
Although the next few days were uneventful, I still couldn’t get in touch with Jessie. Whenever I called, his phone kept going to voicemail. Although he claimed not to find anything, the expression on Jessie’s face that morning said differently. I feared Jessie actually saw the severed scalp (maybe even caught a glimpse of Whoop), and was so spooked, it made him leave. Most of his belongings were still here though, and it was too uncharacteristic of him to be so unreachable, so I was assuming the worst. While trying to make sense of Jessie’s abrupt departure, I continued obsessing over Whoop’s gruesome “gift”….and a few days later, the questions I had about it were answered.
The police showed up one morning and said they had to use my backyard so they can access a crime scene in the woods behind my house. Turns out some hikers stumbled across five bodies at the bottom of a ravine about one mile away from my house. Investigators said the bodies were initially buried, but got dug up by some sort of large animal. It not only exhumed all five corpses, but apparently ate and dismembered large sections of their bodies. I was certain Whoop committed these grizzly killings, and my suspicions were confirmed after seeing a photo of one victim. Her name was Heather, and she’d been missing for about two months. She had a pretty face with gleaming green eyes, and beautiful dark brown hair….which contained a prominent pink highlight streak. That human scalp I found the other day….it belonged to that woman.
But then, the case took a different turn.
Despite the body’s battered conditions, investigators managed to identify all five victims. They were mostly prostitutes, junkies, and drifters. They were all from different parts of the country and had no connections to our town or surrounding area. Autopsies revealed every one of them died by strangulation and blunt force trauma, which to me still implicated Whoop. There still had to be some sort of underlying connection explaining why these victims wound up here of all places, and I found that link when looking at the picture of another victim. When I saw it, my feet almost buckled. The necklace this woman wore in her photo—silver chain with a heart-shaped light pink diamond and gold edging— was the same one I got from Jessie.
Whoop didn’t kill those people….it was Jessie.
I went to the police and told them about the necklace (but didn’t say anything about the human scalp). They searched my house and found a stash of random items belonging to all five victims, which they said were probably trophies Jessie kept as mementos, likely as a way to remember the murder. I never heard from Jessie again, who’s still at large. Detectives think he could also be behind some other unsolved disappearances and murders that happened in spots along his trucking route, and are still investigating.
Once I put the pieces together, it painted a macabre picture. Jessie, my boyfriend, killed those five people. He must have encountered them along his trucking routes, and brought the bodies back here to be buried. It’s unclear if Jessie held them captive before killing them, or did it immediately and hauled their corpses around, both of which are equally disturbing scenarios. Looking back at the day Jessie left, I think he did see the human scalp and disposed of it himself after realizing it came from one of his victims. Jessie did flee, but only to avoid getting caught. Whoop was the catalyst behind his departure, but not because it was trying to protect or give me a warning.
It just wanted to eat.
Whoop must have come across Jessie’s burial site on its own or following Jessie during one of his dropoffs. This also made me realize what three knocks meant—it was hungry for human meat. After eating those bodies, Whoop must have developed a taste for human flesh, and here’s why I’m certain that’s the case….One night last weekend, a solo camper went missing in the same stretch of woods behind my house. On the same evening of her disappearance….I heard three loud knocks coming from the woods.