I’m an avid hiker. I’ve travelled all over the United States and hiked more trails than I can keep track of. Being stationed here at Joint Base Lewis-McChord in Tacoma, I have easy access everything the state of Washington has to offer. Every weekend during the summer, I make sure to go out and explore somewhere new. One of those trips shook me to the core, and to this day, I still have no idea what happened out there.
It was Labor Day weekend, and we were given four days off of work. Four-day weekends are the best. I make sure to get as much time away to destress in the outdoors as possible. That Thursday morning, I had all of my gear packed up and ready to go in my truck, so that as soon as we were released from duty, I could quickly change out of my uniform and head off. Luckily, our company commander is pretty chill, so he let us out early, around 4:30 pm. That gave me plenty of time to make the three-hour drive out to the trailhead and get in a few miles of hiking before setting up camp for the night. I was going to the Gifford Pinchot National Forest, between Mount St. Helens and Mount Adams. When I got there, I put all of my gear on, grabbed my trekking poles, and started on the trail.
Though it was a four-night camping trip, I was always prepared for up to two weeks in the woods, just in case I got lost and ended up as a Missing 411. I had plenty of water, a purification system, food, a camp stove, a satellite phone, cordage, flint and steel, a survival knife, and emergency flares. This being bear country, I kept my food in a bear canister and wore a can of bear spray on my hip. I was also sure to make plenty of noise to warn any nearby bears that I was in the area. As a backup for absolute emergencies, I also had my Ruger 1911, chambered in 10mm. Say what you will, but I’ve never had to use it, and I hoped I never would. Until now.
That first night, everything was amazing. I set up camp in a scenic location, had a fire going (certain campsites allowed fires), and enjoyed a chili mac dinner. It was great. When it came time for bed, I hung up my food, got into my tent, and drifted off to sleep.
Something woke me in the middle of the night. A branch snapping. The sound was loud enough to actually wake me up, so it must have been a big one. Confused, I lay there, listening intently for what that could have been. Then I heard another snap, closer this time. An animal, it must be. A bear? Just my luck to encounter a bear on my first night. Then came the smell. It was awful. A horrific stench, like a rotting carcass. It wafted in, and lingered, as if whatever was making it was right outside. I heard more branches snapping, but this time, I couldn’t pinpoint where the noises were coming from. They seemed to be all around me. But that couldn’t be…were there multiple animals?? The horrific thought hit me that there could very well be a group of them outside, poking around. But before I could get worked up, the noises suddenly stopped. And with them, the stench. It just vanished. The air was clear again. I thought that maybe in my sleepy, hazy state, I had dreamt it all. Maybe I had sleep paralysis? Maybe. But I laid there listening until I fell back asleep.
The next morning, I looked around my campsite, hoping to find tracks of whatever it was that came last night. I couldn’t find any. No footprints, broken branches, no disturbed pine litter. I was completely baffled. How could an animal make all that noise but not leave any trace of them being here? Though it made me uneasy, I brushed it off and packed up my kit. I continued on the trail, and as I remember, I had a pretty great day. Then, it was nightfall again.
As I was sitting by the fire, I heard a faint shrill cry off in the distance. It sounded like a woman screaming. A ghastly, blood-curdling scream. Startled, I looked in the direction I thought it came from. I don’t know why, I couldn’t see anything anyway. It was pitch black out there. The light from the moon and the stars couldn’t penetrate the foliage. I thought it must have been a fox. Or a lynx. They tend to make scream-like vocalizations. Still, even if it was, hearing something like that while you’re alone at night was still terrifying. I was expecting it to end just as quickly as it came, but whatever was out there continued screaming. It made long, mournful wails, piercing through the ambience of the forest. After what felt like twenty minutes, every rationalization I could think of no longer helped to calm my nerves. I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t stand hearing it.
Then I heard a footstep behind me. The crunch of dry pine litter. I whipped around, grabbing my flashlight and aiming it directly into the forest. I started to sweat as I saw the beam was weak, fading in and out as if it was fighting to stay on. What cruel irony, I thought. I could’ve sworn I put fresh batteries in the night before I left. There was no way it could be dying now. In the flickering beam, the vast expanse of the trees was a curtain that hid everything from me. I swept it back and forth, watching the shadows sway and dance. There was nothing. I sat and stared, hand on my bear spray, waiting for something to jump out at me, but nothing came. As I calmed down, I noticed the screaming had stopped. Then a few minutes later, the crickets began chirping. Wait, has it been silent this entire time? I realized up until now, the forest was eerily quiet. Other than the mysterious screams, there were no crickets, no wind sweeping the foliage, no owls. Why didn’t I notice it was so quiet? When did all that noise stop? Was it ever there to begin with?
Completely baffled by what had just happened, I got ready for bed. In my tent, I checked my flashlight again. It was working perfectly fine. The beam was as strong as it was before the trip. Must be fluke, I thought. Though I was on edge, I still managed to fall asleep. But once again, in the middle of the night, I heard the sounds of branches snapping around me. They were closer this time, with the footsteps more frantic. Like the night before, the awful smell of rotting meat also accompanied them. This time it was so strong it felt like a cloud that was right on top of me. But there was something new. It sounded like someone laughing. It came from the same direction as the screams. I was confused at first, but as it got closer, I was absolutely sure it was someone laughing. Or at least it sounded like it. A high-pitched giggling laughter. Like a dog or a hyena imitating a human’s laugh. Foxes could make a sound like that. Maybe it was a fox. Maybe the same fox that made the screams. Oh, who am I kidding? This was no fox. I had no idea what this was. At one point, the laughter sounded like it was right outside the tent. But for some reason, I could no longer tell where it was coming from. It was like as soon as it go close, it was somehow all around me.
In my morbid curiosity, I sat up, contemplating unzipping the flap just a bit, to see and finally know what was outside my tent. But I quickly shut out that thought. Whatever it was, it didn’t seem to know I was in here. Maybe if I stay quiet, it’ll go away. So that was what I did. I sat and stared at the tent door, waiting, with the can of bear spray in hand. Though of what use it would be, I had no idea. Finally, like the previous night, it stopped. The footsteps and the laughing stopped, and the stench faded away. I sat there for some time, ready for it to come back, but it never did.
I must have drifted off after that, because the next morning, I woke up lying down, still holding the bear spray. Searching the vicinity of my campsite, I once again found no trace of whatever was out there. However, my food canister was gone. I suspended it twenty feet in the air, but someone or something had taken it. Regardless, after the previous night, I was completely shaken and decided it was time to end the trip early anyway. I had planned a looping route, but it was faster to just go back the way I came. Still, that meant I had to endure one more night out here. With no food. Just one more night though, that was it. I could do this.
That following night, I set up camp again and sat by the fire, warily listening for the screams again. This time I was in a more open area, a clearing on the edge of a rocky slope leading down to a lake. The sky was clear, with the moon and stars reflecting off of the water. Still, it wasn’t enough to penetrate the forest. It was an abyss swallowing any trace of light that dared to enter. After I sat around for a while, I decided to go to bed early. I still had not heard anything strange, which gave me a bit of relief. I put out the fire. Suddenly a wave of dread swept over me. As the embers faded, so did the chirping of the crickets. And just like that, everything was completely silent.
Then the screaming began again. This time, a single, long, piercing cry. It was much closer and louder than before. I looked up, staring into the darkness of the forest. Against the night sky, I could see the tops of the fir trees. They were moving. I heard the rustle of branches and needles, like they were pushed by the wind. But there was no wind. The air was still. And yet I could see the trees swaying. On the ground, I heard branches and twigs snapping, more viciously than the previous nights. The thing was big. And it was moving. Whatever it was, it was moving. It was coming for me. It wasn’t being sneaky, it wasn’t creeping in the shadows anymore, it was making its move. Like a predator stalking its prey and making the final lunge. But how big was this thing? How could it be so strong that it was pushing the trees out of its way??
The noxious stench hit my nose again, stronger than ever. I pointed my flashlight at the entity, trying to make out what exactly I was seeing. It was no use. As soon as I turned it on, light started drifting in and out like it did last night. Frustrated, I slapped it against my hand several times and turned it on and off, but it was no use. The light didn’t stay on long enough for me to make out what the shape was. At the same time, the forest was so dense that whatever part of the creature that wasn’t blocked by the massive tree trunks was still obscured by the branches and shadows cast by my light.
Finally, as the creature came closer to the clearing, and its rough outline was visible, my heart sank. I saw a tall, humanoid figure, with long, gangly limbs, but no visible head. I couldn’t tell if it was the darkness or my mind playing tricks on me, but there were no discernable features on it. It was completely black. In the beam of my flashlight, it still wasn’t fully visible. When the light hit it, even thought it illuminated the trees, the figure was still in darkness. It was as if the thing itself was absorbing the light. Whatever light hitting it couldn’t bounce off. It couldn’t escape. An abyss.
My flashlight choked out its last breath before finally shutting off. I was now in total darkness, with nowhere to go. I couldn’t go around the thing; it was going to grab me. I couldn’t go back; there was a drop off. Navigating the rocks with no light was going to get me killed. In the glow of the moon, I saw the figure wrap a gnarled, spindly hand around the last tree, pulling itself out of the tree line. I heard the creaking and groaning and buckling of wood as it lurched its way forward. The eerie, uncanny laugh came, louder and more sadistic. It was inhuman, again, like an animal imitating a human’s laugh. I froze. Now without the trees for contrast, I couldn’t see the figure anymore. I just knew it was in front of me, and it was coming closer. But even though it was in front of me, the sound of its laughter seemed to come from all directions. How? If was echoing off the mountains, I would be able to tell. But it seemed like the sound was wrapping around me. And so was the odor.
With no other option, I had to fight back. I pulled out the bear spray and flicked the safety clip off. I aimed up at what I thought was the thing’s face, and sprayed, holding the lever down until the entire can was empty. Unsurprisingly, that didn’t seem to faze it. The creature kept coming. It was worth a shot. At least I’ll go down fighting.
It then quickened its pace, laughing maniacally as its body swayed and writhed, its joints creaking and clicking like old rotted wood. I dropped the bear spray and drew my 1911. I always carried with a round in the chamber and the hammer cocked. Ready to go. Flipping the safety off, I aimed with a firm, two-handed grip at the creature. The gun most likely wouldn’t do anything, but I had to try. I fired. Once, twice, three times, over and over. Under the surge of adrenaline, I barely heard the gunshots as they rang out, but I could feel the force of the creature barreling towards me. Remembering back, I could’ve sworn I saw it reach out with a spider-like arm, fingers practically touching my head. I emptied the magazine. All eight rounds, gone in what was probably the span of two seconds.
I squeezed my eyes shut, preparing for what was to come. But right when I thought I was going to die, a sudden gust of wind smacked me. It was immensely strong, and felt like it was going to knock me backwards down the slope. The wind howled and ripped at my clothes. It was ice cold. I looked up, and the forest suddenly burst with light. A pinkish-purplish glow emanating from behind the trees. It lit up the sky and reflected off the lake and the glaciers on the mountains. It pulsed and shifted in hue, and seemed to flicker and dance like an aurora. I stared, completely baffled by what I was witnessing.
Quickly, the light faded, and so did the wind and the stench. The forest was dark and quiet again, and the creature was gone. I sat on the ground, staring at the forest, trying to comprehend what I had seen. All I could hear was the ringing in my ears. Afraid that the creature might come back, I relit the campfire and waited for it. When my ears finally stopped ringing, I heard the crickets and other insects again. It was the most reassuring sound I had ever heard in my life.
For the rest of the night, I sat by the fire, too afraid to go to sleep. When the first light of dawn came and the birds began chirping, I immediately packed up my camp to leave as soon as possible. Finally, I picked up my spent brass, and as I looked around, I tried to find any sign of the creature’s presence. But like before, there were no footprints, no broken branches, no disturbed foliage. No evidence that an enormous creature that been there. I ran the entire way back to the parking lot. For miles, I ran with all of my gear on, disregarding the fatigue from staying up the entire night. As soon as I got into my truck, I drove all the way back to Tacoma without stopping. I had contemplated telling the guys in my unit about what happened, but I didn’t exactly know what I would say. I didn’t even know where to begin. None of it makes sense. I’ve searched all over the internet hoping to find an answer. Hoping to get some clue, or to find someone who has seen the same creature as I did. Like I said, to this day, I still have no idea what I encountered out there. But I do know that Washington, and the entire Pacific Northwest, is notorious for unexplained phenomena. Be careful out there.