Speaker 1: I work with a volunteer search and rescue team in
Speaker 1: northern Montana. Most of the time we're responding to injuries,
Speaker 1: lost hikers, you know, the usual. Last week. Last week,
Speaker 1: we found a man barefoot, half frozen, and covered in blood,
Speaker 1: stumbling down a trail we hadn't used in decades. We
Speaker 1: thought he was a missing hunter. He wasn't. He brought
Speaker 1: him back to base camp. He wouldn't tell us his name.
Speaker 1: He kept muttering, it'd let me go, It'd let me go,
Speaker 1: over and over, like a prayer. He hadn't eaten in days.
Speaker 1: We offered food, he refused. When we insisted, he screamed.
Speaker 1: He said it would know later. While the others were
Speaker 1: out on a call, I sat with him alone and
Speaker 1: we started to talk. He said he was part of
Speaker 1: a three man group hunting elks deep in the wilderness.
Speaker 1: Said one night something found their camp. Not a bear,
Speaker 1: not a wolf, something tall, thin bones stretched over skin,
Speaker 1: teeth like needles. He never called it a name, but
Speaker 1: I did asked a wind to go. He flinched When
Speaker 1: I said it no, He whispered the when to go.
Speaker 1: He said it didn't kill them right away, It took them,
Speaker 1: one at a time, always at night, always when they
Speaker 1: were alone. They took Tom first, left only his tongue,
Speaker 1: then dragged off. Caleb said he heard Caleb laughing as
Speaker 1: it took him, but it wasn't Caleb's laugh. The third
Speaker 1: night he was alone, he ran, got lost, starved, heard
Speaker 1: it whispering to him, not words, just thoughts, promises. He
Speaker 1: said he saw it watching him while he slept, said
Speaker 1: it left bits of his friends in the snow like breadcrumbs,
Speaker 1: and then let him go, just like that. He said,
Speaker 1: it stood over him at dawn, mouthful of Caleb's face,
Speaker 1: and whispered inside his mind, You're all mine. I didn't
Speaker 1: know what to say. He looked at me with eyes
Speaker 1: that hadn't blinked in hours, and said, you don't get it.
Speaker 1: It's not out there anymore more. Then he pointed at
Speaker 1: his chest, It's in here. I didn't sleep after that conversation.
Speaker 1: He just sat there in the infirmary cot, staring at
Speaker 1: the wall, not moving, not blinking, like the thought of
Speaker 1: rest no longer applied to whatever was left of him.
Speaker 1: And the next morning he was gone. No signs of
Speaker 1: forced entry, no broken windows. The med tent zipper was
Speaker 1: still latched. From the inside, but the inside of the
Speaker 1: cot was wet, not blood, not sweat, just wet, like
Speaker 1: something cold had melted there. Overnight we followed the tracks
Speaker 1: as far as we could, but the snowfall had buried
Speaker 1: most of them, just a trail of smeared bootprints that
Speaker 1: veered off the marked paths and disappeared into the timberline.
Speaker 1: That night, I was posted at the south edge of
Speaker 1: base camp, forest edge, quiet, too quiet. They couldn't shake
Speaker 1: the feelings something was just behind the tree line, watching,
Speaker 1: not moving, just waiting for me to move first. At
Speaker 1: some point past midnight I heard footsteps behind the mess tent.
Speaker 1: I want to check it out and found two things.
Speaker 1: One a chunk of raw venison missing from the storage cooler.
Speaker 1: It hadn't been sliced or bitten, they'd been scraped apart
Speaker 1: nails maybe something dull and rough. And two trail of
Speaker 1: footprints in the snow, barefoot. They led about twenty yard
Speaker 1: into the woods before they stopped, like the person who
Speaker 1: made them had either taken flight or vanished into the trees.
Speaker 1: We logged it, set motion cams, increased watch shifts, but
Speaker 1: two nights later one of the volunteers went missing. We
Speaker 1: found what was left of him scattered across a tree,
Speaker 1: like someone had hung clothes to dry. Grib cage split
Speaker 1: and hollow, tongue left, hole, eyes gone. The cameras caught
Speaker 1: nothing but static between one thirteen and one twenty one am,
Speaker 1: and somewhere in that static on a single frozen frame
Speaker 1: was we saw something, something tall, standing just outside the
Speaker 1: infrared range, and a few feet in front of it
Speaker 1: him a survivor, smiling, mouth opened wider than I thought possible,
Speaker 1: shoulders hunched like he'd grown something underneath the skin that
Speaker 1: didn't fit right. We shut down the camp the next day.
Speaker 1: I stayed behind to help collect the equipment, last one out,
Speaker 1: just me and the trees. I don't know why I
Speaker 1: opened the meat locker before I left, curiosity. Maybe here
Speaker 1: something closer to instinct. He was inside, not hiding, just
Speaker 1: crouched in the corner, naked hands, raw skin torn at
Speaker 1: the fingertips like claws were trying to push their way out.
Speaker 1: His mouth was moving and not speakings, chewing. I didn't move.
Speaker 1: He looked at me just for a second, and I
Speaker 1: swear he said something, but I didn't hear it with
Speaker 1: my ears. It was in my bones. You don't have
Speaker 1: to run anymore. Then he vanished, No sound, just gone.
Speaker 1: I still don't know how, but every night since I
Speaker 1: hear something at my window doesn't knock it. It just breathes,
Speaker 1: and sometimes I catch myself breathing with it. Heither, kids,
Speaker 1: It's me, mister creep Pasta, and I just wanted to
Speaker 1: tell you thank you so much for watching tonight's video
Speaker 1: or for listening to tonight's episode of the podcast. And
Speaker 1: as always, I want to give a very big thank
Speaker 1: you to everybody who supports me over at Patreon, Patreon
Speaker 1: dot com slash mister Creepypasta. I cannot thank you guys enough.
Speaker 1: You guys have been there when I'm struggling like a
Speaker 1: half of the past year, and it sincerely helps me
Speaker 1: stay alive. So thank you guys so much for being supporters.
Speaker 1: That goes for everybody who is down in the description,
Speaker 1: as well as Acid System, Ball Arms, the Rat, Bake, Ratler, Grandson, Mendoza,
Speaker 1: Renna Crow, Brimstone, Panemonium, Caltuna, Shame, Smokeer Dealer, Chicago hit Man,
Speaker 1: Corey Kenshin, crown Up by a Way, Crisader, joke about
Speaker 1: curs Po's Primark to go to best Thanka Polson, I'm
Speaker 1: taking Kaid, Dina Krass, Ellie Hotmeyer and chatted buns est
Speaker 1: to Bean Jellahalsey Hay his nephew, Himo, Jerry Hour Minute,
Speaker 1: Second Time, Jay Keams, Jennis pat Jordan, Humble, Kin Krab,
Speaker 1: Mister Marcus Splitz, Old Penguin, Peaceful Buddha, Cycle, moult Red,
Speaker 1: Shadow Cat, Remember the son Rinku Star Salty Surprise, Samara
Speaker 1: Line Seclude, Simba's Buddy Mojob Smiley a Psychotic Sully Man,
Speaker 1: Tully Sue. The shop is Brothers. Thank you so much,
Speaker 1: and honestly, thank you to everybody, even those guys that
Speaker 1: are in there for just one dollar. It really helps
Speaker 1: me out. Once again, that's patreon dot com slash mister
Speaker 1: Creepypasta or if you guys like to just listen, honestly,
Speaker 1: that helps me out a lot too. Thank you guys
Speaker 1: so much for being here, thank you for listening, thank
Speaker 1: you for watching, and sweet dreams.