It was back in high school and there was a blood drive going on. I signed up to give blood during my 4th hour so I would have a valid excuse to get out of my English class and roll straight into lunch. I went down to the room where they were all set up and gave blood rather uneventfully. I ended up with a nice bruise on my arm and because I had two hours of art in the afternoon, I figured that holding my blood-giving arm up to paint for two hours wasn't a good idea (but really I just didn't feel like going in). So I decided to skip my afternoon classes and went home and took a nice nap on the couch.
I woke up really groggy a couple hours later, feeling like I had to pee like crazy. I got up and made my way to the bathroom, but when I got there I briefly forgot why I was there. I stood around for a couple seconds wondering why I wasn't still napping on the couch when I suddenly surmised that if I came to the bathroom I probably had to poop. So I went to the toilet and stood in front of it like I was about to sit down on it and lost my train of thought again. When I recovered I remembered I had to pee and so i started peeing.
It wasn't until I felt the warmth in my crotch and down my leg did I realize something wasn't right. I looked down and I still wasn't facing the toilet. And my pants were still up. And in the time it took me to put two and two together I had emptied my bladder.
I haven't wallowed around the horror fiction genre too much but the stories that had the most lasting effect had some element of relatability to my life, even if in very vague ways. The psychosis story I linked earlier, for example. No paranormal or totally off the wall things happen in that story, unless you want to interpret it that way. And the whole theme of the story is whether this guy is overanalyzing seemingly random coincidences that he discovers in his life, or is there really some bigger sinister motive that he's unraveling? The context of that story can be applied to anyone's life; there's that element that we can appreciate because from one perspective at least, it's all bits of reality that doesn't take any effort to believe. It's everyday stuff. And after reading it, if you can relate to any of the paranoia, all that every day stuff will make you hate being alone.
When going through the scary stuff thread at the aforementioned somethingawful, it was like everyone who was a member had a story to tell. Some were related to ghosts or poltergeist activity, some were alien related, some were supposedly real experiences, some were stories.
But one creepy pattern began to emerge from a handful of the stories. These particular stories shares many little details in common, and while it wasn't obvious at first, after someone had pointed it out it became very clear. Many of these stories had to do with being chased by humanoid creatures with coyote or wolf heads, or even humans that turn into predatory animals. Most of them took place in the Southwest, although a few were scattered elsewhere. A handful of stories even referenced one or a few people who seemed to be somewhat knowledgable about the beasts but refused to talk about them. A couple of them had to do with local Indian tribes. All unique stories from different posters.
Then a poster commented that it seems like several of the stories were skinwalker incidents. He went on to explain that skinwalkers were a Navajo legend that went beyond just typical ghost stories. It was taboo to even speak of them, because one of their abilities is to know whenever they're being talked about. To speak of them puts a target on your head. Anyway, the legend goes that a skinwalker was or may still be a member of a Navajo tribe who went through a series of rituals to gain the power of transforming into an animal, or to take an animal's ability (like run 40mph or fly like an owl). He didn't mention the details of the ritual other than the last step supposedly involves killing a loved one or family member, after which they can wear the skin of an animal they kill and take their identity. After going back through the stories again and connecting them all to this skinwalker lore that many of these posters allegedly had no knowledge of was haunting. I wish I could find some of those stories cuz going through them collectively and seeing all the similarities really gave me the creeps. I think I spent like 3 hours late one night just terrifying myself reading through that thread.
The rules were quite simple: Same as last night, except the woods are off limits. Anyone who goes into the woods is disqualified and automatically "it". This time I was on the seeking team. Kyle and his girlfriend were on the hiding team again. Me and another friend from school teamed up and searched behind the barn and along the driveway. We worked our way through the bushes and grass, scanned over the perimeter of the pond, and eventually made our way to the main road before we turned back and doubled our efforts. We heard some kids get caught on the other side of the property, and we might have found some kids ourselves, I honestly can't remember. What I do remember is eventually we had found everyone except Kyle and his girlfriend and the round had been going on for so long that even the hiding team helped us search for them. My buddy and I were pretty burned out from searching for so long, so we essentially reduced our efforts to casually walking around the property and chatting.
We were walking along the driveway back toward the clearing for the hundredth time when we saw Kyle's gumpy silhouette rise up from the knee-high grass in the middle of the field ahead of us and run towards the woods. He had probably 50 yards on us, but my friend and I were both fast guys and should have been able to significantly close the gap before he hit the border of the field and the woods. But Kyle apparently ran like a deer, and eventually his silhouette blended in with the skyline of trees and he disappeared into the brush ahead. We ran to the edge of the woods, where the grass grew a little more unruly, and bushes and small trees sprouted up from the ground before the woods proper took over. We combed the area with our flashlight. Part of me was certain he was just lying in the tall grass. Kyle is a chicken, so I knew, especially after last night, that the woods weren't an option for him.
But we couldn't find him. And after what seemed like an eternity of looking around our ankles for any sign of him I had to concede that he ran into the woods, and was probably watching us from behind a tree right now, laughing to himself.
"We saw you run into the woods, Kyle!" I yelled. "The game's over, we're tired of looking." My friend and I turned around and started working our way back through the field toward the cabin and the barn.
Walking up to meet us from the driveway was the rest of our search party. Kyle and his girlfriend were with them. Apparently they were hiding in a gutter by the side of the main road the whole time.
I don't know who (or what) we chased into the woods. To this day I get goosebumps thinking about it. Everybody was accounted for. The property was too big for someone to lead us to the edge of the woods, then double back to the front of the property. It didn't make sense.
Kyle and I have gone back to his aunt and uncle's property over the years since then. Nothing ever happens, although its impossible to get him back into the woods at night. His aunt says the incident with the ducks hasn't happened since, and they haven't noticed anything peculiar outside of that one summer. I'm not sure what the best explanation is. Maybe it was all in our heads and we worked ourselves up too much. But that doesn't neatly explain everything. In fact it leaves a lot of stuff unaddressed. The worst part is while it may be categorized as "paranormal", its just as likely that there was some creep in the woods with us that weekend, watching our every movement.
If you were to drive north east from the Detroit area until the buildings thinned and were replaced by open fields and trees, drive to the edge of the asphalt and continue your way over gravel and dust, and zigzag through the array of dirt roads and stop at a particular stretch of land about 45 minutes in from Lake Huron, you would find the setting of my story.
The setting is important. I want you all to see it vividly in your mind's eye. I want you to be able to smell the scent of dew on the grass, and the dust kicked up from the road when a pickup drives by. I want you to hear the call of red winged black birds and swallows and loons and bullfrogs. I want you to feel the warm summer breeze as it dances on your skin. I want you to experience the paradise that only country life can provide, and appreciate it the same way that I do, because when something goes wrong in a setting like this, it really sticks with you.
Down one of these dirt roads lives my best friend's aunt and uncle. To get to them you have to turn off the road onto a dirty, dusty, driveway, sandwiched between a stretch of untamed bushes and trees and grass. The driveway continues farther and farther back, until it veers to the right and ends in an opening. On the far side of the opening is a gorgeous log cabin, freshly built, and home to my friend's aunt and uncle. Also on the edge of the clearing, but closest to the road lies a barn-turned-house. If you were to walk back behind the barn and work your way through the grass back toward the main road, eventually the grass would give way to cattails and lilies, and eventually those would give way to the reflection of the sky above. This is where their pond is. It is U-shaped, and the land on the far side of it is entirely wild and difficult to approach.
If instead of veering right with the driveway to the opening where the two buildings meet you decided to continue straight (deeper into the lot and further from the main road) you'd walk through an open field with grass uniformly kept about as high as your knees, with the single exception of a lawn-mowed path which cuts across to the far side. All in all its about a football-field's length until the field reaches the woods.
The woods are a conglomeration of pines and maples and beech, densely packed together so even on the brightest of days the woods are heavily cloaked in shadow. The ground here is soft, cushioned by generations of fallen pine needles and moss. If you worked your way deeper and deeper into the woods, eventually you'd come to the edge of a steep ravine, dropping somewhere between 50-75 feet down, where a creek marches through, carrying whatever falls into its path out to Lake Huron. For the sake of my story, the ravine might as well been the edge of the world, with the bowels of hell waiting below.
We had all driven out there on a Friday afternoon in the middle of summer. Kyle had just graduated from high school and this was his graduation party. All of our closest friends were invited, as well as a couple neighbors who lived out there. And when I say neighbors I mean that in the country sense. Their house was a half mile down the road.
That night we decided to head to the woods to play flashlight tag. Kyle, his girlfriend, myself, and one of the neighborhood girls were picked to hide first. We worked our way back some random distance into the woods and decided to just lie on the ground. The darkness was so thick that even by hiding in plain sight, the only way we'd be found is if they shined a flashlight directly on us, or accidentally tripped over us. Its also worth mentioning that I had a walkie-talkie on me, just in case something had happened to someone. Someone on the seeking team had the other one.
Before too long we could see the beam of flashlights cutting through the black at the start of the woods, and the obnoxious grunts and yells of their bravado, no doubt produced to ward away any fear that creeps up on kids who wander into the woods at night. They spread out and combed through the forest, pointing their lights up into the trees, and down by their feet. It wouldn't be too long before they came to where we were lying and found us all. So we decided to split up. Kyle and his girlfriend took off one way, and me and the local girl chose to run deeper and deeper into the woods, until our path abruptly ended at the ravine. We sat back down, and I listened to the steady flow of the creek below mix with the shouts of my friends. It was pleasant.
But I also heard the rustling of leaves, down at the base of the ravine. I remember pushing it from my mind; it was a raccoon or a deer or something. Certainly nothing to get worried about and embarrass yourself over in front of the local girl. So I returned my focus to the flashlights and shouting and worked my mind back into the pleasant state it was in before.
But the rustling kept interrupting. It was almost like it knew it was bothering me. Like it was trying to make sure I focused on it and nothing else. It was obsessive and demanding, and insisted that everything else in the world was second to it.
And then the girl spoke.
"Do you hear that noise down there?" I tried to find any detail of her face to read, but the darkness was too thick. All I remember was her silhouette was very still.
"Yeah. You don't think its an animal or something?"
"At first, yeah. But a coyote or deer wouldn't be down there this long with all the noise everyone is making."
And then the fear crept in. I had reasoned that there was nothing for me to worry about as long as the girl thought everything was okay. She lived out there. She knew about the land and the animals and what was normal and what wasn't. If she wasn't scared there was no need for me to be scared either. But her stillness. The serious tone in her voice. The fact that she was even mentioning the noise. I don't know if she was scared, but I didn't need to read her face to see she was definitely concerned. So I pulled out the walkie talkie and told everyone to find us back by the ravine.
They all showed up a few minutes later. Kyle, his girlfriend, and all the members of the seeking team. One of them had a powerful flashlight; almost like one of those police spot-lights. After we had explained what was going on (and some of the other kids noticed the noises too), we shined the spotlight down into the ravine, and illuminated a small circle of woods in a sea of black. We saw the tops of trees that cut out from the side of the ravine, and through the branches and leaves we were able to make out a bit of land and creek below. Oh, and the movement, too. We saw that, as well. Whatever was down there was conveniently placed beneath the foliage of the ravine wall, protected from our light. And it was about then we realized it wasn't alone.
More rustling rose up from the ravine, but this time it was to the left of where we were standing. It moved with purpose through the leaves, coming closer and closer, until it stopped maybe 50 feet from the source of the first noises. And there was more rustling, this time further out. And it, too, sounded like it was working its way to us. And more. And more. It sounded like the whole ravine had suddenly come alive. Yet no matter where we shone the flashlight, too much of the ravine floor was obscured by the trees that grew beneath us.
It was at this point that Kyle had to leave. The fear had finally overtaken him, and there was no place he'd rather be than safely locked behind the closed door of the cabin. Half the group agreed with him and followed him out. Part of me wanted to leave, too. Especially because the thrill of solving this mystery suddenly becomes less appealing when half the group abandons you. But I decided to stay. So did the local girl. And so did a couple others.
When Kyle lead his group away from us and back toward the edge of the woods, we all pretended to go. The handful of us that remained behind sat very still. We didn't make a noise. And we agreed that nobody was allowed to turn on their flashlight, or else we would give ourselves away. We could hear the movement down below. A bit of noise here. A snap of a twig over there. Then a voice of some sort. It was low-pitched, and almost sounded like someone trying to speak while gurgling water. To this day its the most haunting thing I've ever heard. And I know I'm not the only one who heard it either, because several of us simultaneously broke our vow to keep the flashlights off and illuminated the treetops of the ravine once again.
"You heard it? You heard it?" It wasn't a question so much as a declaration. We all heard it and we all knew it. But sometimes you need the obvious confirmation to keep yourself from thinking you're going crazy.
"Yeah. This is f***ed up. We should have left." I was starting to agree. Rustling noises are one thing. Even when the whole forest is teeming with movement and all your instincts are telling you something's not right, there's always the scapegoat of saying its all in your head. That you exaggerated the amount of noises. That it really was wildlife after all. But that whispery-gurgly sound is something else altogether. And even if you fell back on the notion that all the rustling through the woods has a logical and natural explanation, the voice at the bottom of the ravine breaks everything down.
And so did what happened next.
The rustling was different this time. It started at the base of the ravine, like all the other times. But then it got closer and closer, louder and louder, all at an alarming rate. It was racing up the wall of the ravine, snapping branches and leaving a trail of debris to fall through the canopy and onto the ravine floor. It was maybe 5 seconds altogether before the silhouette pulled itself up, maybe 20 feet away. And when you feel as close to mortality as I felt that moment, you don't take the extra second to raise your flashlight to the beast. You don't notify your friends. You run. You run like the wind because every other option means death. I ran as hard as I had ever run, and I could hear my friends alongside me, panting, snapping through branches, feet stomping through the dead pine needles. We broke out of the woods and into the field and didn't stop running. I felt blood crawling down my face and my arms itched where they had been scratched by branches. My lungs burned. That ravine was far too steep for anything to climb up.
We startled Kyle and the rest of the group with our sudden entrance. We were a wreck. We explained everything that had happened, all out of breath and bleeding. After we told our story and got cleaned up and settled down, Kyle's aunt notified us that over the past week her and her husband had noticed duck carcasses out by the pond. Their bodies and feathers were all in-tact. They were just missing their heads. And they had no explanation for it, because a wild animal is more interested in the meat on the body than the head. I almost had a heart attack right there. It was all too much to take in, for any of us.
Which meant the next night we were playing flashlight tag in the field.
Has anything creepy or unexplained ever happened to you? Do people give you weird looks when you try to explain what you saw? Does any of the following apply to you?
-Experienced things that move on their own
-Saw silhouette or out of focus entity in a place where no entity should be
-Got the heebyjeebies
OR perhaps you simply enjoy the catecholamine release, the feel of your heart racing, the piloerection, and the sense of impending doom reaching out for your soul when you read about these experiences and stories.
If any of the above apply, THEN THIS THREAD IS FOR YOU
Here we will share scary and unexplained things that have happened to us or our loved ones, or creepy stories exclusively in the realm of fiction if we prefer. All are welcome!
RECOMMENDED TO READ AT NIGHT WITH LIGHTS OFF UNDER TENT OF BLANKETS AND FLASHLIGHT
note: because there are only 3 people in the water cooler, multiple entries are encouraged.
note: this thread was inspired in part by a previous scary story thread that was posted in the water cooler years ago. I will share my story that I posted in that thread, but I will spice it up a bit to add to the story-telling.
note: as mentioned above, you don't have to necessarily have experienced anything yourself to participate. The story could be something that a friend or family member experienced, or even just a made up scary story that has stuck with you through the years! The point of this thread is to DELIVER THE SPOOKY
If they want to go based off numbers obv Panarin but if they want to go off of difference maker/ impact etc. It is definitely Larkin. Larkin is the MVP of the Red Wings. Panarin is not a Hawk MVP.
If Larkin can close the scoring gap a bit, and maybe take over goals he could have a solid chance at it, because all the intangibles are in his favor. Way younger, no professional experience, carrying his respective team, producing regardless of where he's put on the lineup (goal tonight was assisted by Glendending btw), almost all his points are even strength (pro or con?). I don't see the league voting him over Panarin though when he's 13 points behind.
I'm gonna say as long as evrryone stays on their current pace, it's gonna go to panarin simply because I don't think the voters will put much stock into the fact that Larkin is doing it without patty "waste of a human" Kanes amazing production, and the fact that he is 24 and played professionally already.
I also realllllllllyyyyyy wish we had parayko.
At the beginning of the year one of the threads asked who Larkin might be traded for, and I had suggested Parayko as a possibility to consider. My mindset was both of these guys could become franchise players for their respective positions, and I figured the Wings had more higher-end talent up front in the prospect pool than on defense, so it might be a trade that would make sense down the road. As far as defensman, he has everything you could want: solid defensively, huge size, booming shot, goal scoring ability, etc etc. In retrospect I'm glad we have Larkin over him, though, because I was not expecting our offense to be as anemic as it currently is, and Mrazek seems to make up for any lack of a franchise defensman (at least in terms of goals against) at the moment. Still, if we could somehow swipe Parayko from the Blues I would be willing to move a lot of pieces to make it happen.
Like the on-ice version of the date-rape drug, Panarin has quickly made a name for himself helping Kane score. He currently leads NHL rookies in GOALS, ASSISTS, and POINTS. And while he's only one goal ahead of Larkin for the rookie lead, he's about a mile ahead of the competition in assists and also points. He's also leading the league in power play points. In short, the guy puts up numbers. Including age numbers! At 50 years old, he just barely made the rookie cut-off.
Harry Potter Dylan Larkin
At 19 years old, Larkin somehow convinced Holland that dropped balls weren't necessary to play in the NHL and hasn't looked back. He's been consistently among the top rookie goal scorers in the league, and locked up the rookie +/- back in November. In a season where the Wings' production has been down across the board, Larkin has also made a strong case for team MVP now that Drew Miller's season is effectively over.
NORTH AMERICAN SKATER
Sufferer of perpetual forehead acne and being the son of "that one guy" as they say in PhoenixLas VegasPortland Arizona, Max Domi has been a large reason why the Coyotes are still in the playoff hunt despite featuring on ice talent such as Shane Doan, Kyle Chupacabra, Oliver Ekman-Larsson, Hanzal, and literally nobody else you've ever heard of before. He's also consistently in the running for "runner up behind Panarin" for ROY. Probably would win bro of the year award based on some of his pics.
Everyone's favorite rookie ginger got off to a slow start compared to those rookies who weren't supposed to win the Calder this year (see: anyone not named McDavid or Eichel) but has been as hot as that hair more recently. In fact, he and Larkin were tied for points going into the Wings/Buffalo game. However as the final buzzer went off, Larkin skated away up two more points, while Eichel skated away up one tooth. As far as draft consolation prizes go, Eichel has been solid, and more importantly, not injured.
At 6'6", 226lbs, this hulking defensman has made his presence known. However, in the year of the rookie, Parayko has gone largely unnoticed. He's second in +/-, leads all defensman in points, and is logging some solid minutes for the St. Louis Blues. But because defense isn't really a thing with NHL awards, he'll probably be left off the ballot.