Speaker 1: All right, here's a bigfoot story. When I was twenty nine,
my wife and I lived near Olympic National Park in
Port Angels, Washington. My wife loved to go for night
walks just before sunset. One night, we had been walking
down the trail for about an hour. We came upon
a lake. She wanted to take a break, so we
stopped and rested for a bit. After a few minutes,
we heard a twig snap. First, we thought it was
a deer or another tiny creature, so we didn't worry
about it. And then more sticks started cracking, and leave
started crunching. My wife started freaking out. I always have
a pistol with me, so I pulled it out and
I clicked the safety off. Only one thought ran through
my head at that moment, Steve Frickin' Lily. I had
to suppress the laugh, thinking it could be a bigfoot
in those trees. As the sounds got closer, my wife
started crying and then ran back the way we came.
I had no choice but to follow her, and to
my horror, the sounds started chasing us. As we were
reaching the end of the trail, our vehicle came into
view and the damn thing stepped out in front of us,
and it scared the hell out of me. I shot
at it four times and it took off back in
the woods. We hopped in the truck and sped off,
and my wife asked me what the hell that was.
I told her I didn't know, all the while laughing
to myself thinking of Steve Lily. We were driving and
I kept glancing out the window expecting it to jump
out on us. A few hundred feet down a dirt path,
we started hearing something crashing through the woods again. We
rounded the bend in the dirt path and I slammed
on the brake so hard that I thought I was
going to fly through the windshield. There stood this giant
beast again. It was nine feet tall. It had brown hair,
and it had an ugly face and hands like the Hulk.
My wife screamed and I held my pistol out the
window and I shot at it twice. I reloaded faster
than I ever had, and I started shooting again. I
ran out of bullets again, but this time I was
out for good. But at least I got it bleeding.
Twelve bullets in it, and it started walking away with
a limp. We sped off got home safely, but the
event was so terrifying that my wife started hallucinating. Two
days after this encounter, she thought she saw it behind
her and had a stroke. I never could stop thinking
of that creature for the next couple of years. I
started researching and found your email address. In telling my story,
it feels like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders,
though I guarantee I still have nightmares of that night
for the rest of my days. Thank you for the
great stories and the great podcast. Well you're welcome. You
guys may think that since he talked about Steve Lily,
this might be a fictional story, but it's not. He's
submitting this as true. But he's got a great attitude
about it. He wasn't scared of this thing. Well, I
guess he was scared of it, but he's got a
great maybe a sense of adventure. It's kind of like
when you're a kid and you wanted to be Audie
Murphy or Steve McQueen or somebody in a movie. He
was thinking of Steve Lily, this is my chance to
kill a bigfoot. Anyway, that is a terrifying encounter. He
saw it twice stepped out in front of his car.
Twelve shots. I think that's what he said. Twelve bullets.
Finally walked off with a limp. Man. What a story.
Thanks to the writer for sending it. It was awesome.
Since that last writer mentioned Steve Lely, I pulled up
some Steve Lelly fan fiction. This is where people in
the audience read or write about the character Steve Lily,
and this is pretty good. Here's what the man writes.
I'm a high voltage distribution lineman. I worked pretty much
all over the South. Today I had the mixed pleasure
of meeting mister Lily. I received a trouble call from
a business complaining of no voltage, and I started rolling
to the call. From a distance, I could spot the trouble.
A barrel knife switch was open and hanging. I moved
into this industrial area where this business was and I
set up to troubleshoot it. I got into the aerial
basket and ascended. I refused the switch and closed it
to see if it held, and then boom, the fuse
blew from the ground below me. Some guy called me
a son of a bitch. You want your shit fixed,
I asked him. Keep your mouth shut. The guy looked
pissed for a second, and then he broke into a
wide smile and I got back to work. I changed
he'sed out the transformer and threw the switch, and it
was all good. When I came down to earth, this
guy walked up to me. He noticed the knife I
wore on my belt, and he pointed to it. It
was a Randall Bowie. It's a beautiful, expensive knife last year,
like your knife. I washed. His eyes light up, like
one who knows a good blade when he sees one. Here,
take a look, I said, ah, man, this is the
cat's ass. He said, are you a hunter? I nodded,
but was guarded about it. What do you hunt? He asked,
handing my knife back. I didn't answer him right away.
Dangerous things, I said, You don't say, he said, and
he gave me a funny look. You and me ought
to have a beer sometime. Well, sure thing. My name's
Craig Brooks, Steve Lily, He said, all right, Steve, I said,
I'll buy the first round. I pulled out my business
card and wrote my personal number on the back. Steve
said he would be in touch. We shook hands and
he left. I figured it would be fun to shoot
the breeze with him. He reminded me of me. I
got in the truck and I called in and told
him the ticket was complete. I thought Steve would shit
a brick if I told him what me and my
uncle Jack hunted in the North Florida swamps. Boy was
I wrong about that. His story's just about scared the
snot out of me. Oh man, that was a good
Steve Lily. One of the things he wrote. And I've
had this a long time, I just haven't gotten to it.
But he says, if you want to hear more, just
send me your email address and I will send more.
I love your channel cam. I've been writing cryptid stories
for a long time. I'd be happy to share some
of the stuff with you, Craig. That'd be great. You
want my email address, but you sent this to my
email address anyway, it's Dixie Crypti at gmail dot com
and it's in the description of this video. If you
want to send me some more stuff, because I'll read them.
I appreciate it. Craig, what a great Steve Lily fan fiction.
He said, he reminds me of me. That's awesome. Thanks
for the story. On a moonlit night in Florida, I
think I killed a werewolf. My uncle had a Honda
Odyssey van and he had just installed rims on it
and given it a fresh pain of pearl white paint.
It was his pride and joy. Well, one night I
asked to borrow it so I could go on a
date with a girl. She lived forty five minutes north
of me, But to get her I had to cross
a section of Jonathan Dickinson State Park, which has areas
of thick woodland that turn into scrubland and beach dunes
the closer you get to the water. In the mornings
and early evenings, it's common to see deer wild hogs
in that area. And knowing that I was driving my
uncle's van carefully, it had gotten dark quickly and was overcast,
so the moon wasn't very bright. I was crew using
along listening to the music when on my left a
large black animal came out of the tree line. It
was moving fast and it tried to cross the road
in front of me. Well, my first thought was that
it was a large wild boar because I saw hair
and its back came high as the windshield. But when
the high beams hit the animal, I could see its long,
muscular arms and broad shoulders propelling itself forward. It may
have been running on all fours, but it was no
wild boar. It took less than a second for the
beast to move from side of the road in front
of the van, but I felt time slow down and
my heart sank. I knew I could not stop in
time or swear fast enough to avoid hitting it. I
closed my eyes and I braced myself for impact, racking
my brain for what on earth I was about to hit.
The van struck it at full speed. My body slammed
backward into the seat. The front bumper crumpled from the impact,
and I swerved left and right as the front and
rear tires ran over it. Well. I slowed down and
pulled off on the shoulder. I knew my uncle was
going to kill me for wrecking his van, but I
couldn't stop thinking about the thing I had just hit.
I sat there for a second, catching my breath, when
I figured i'd better get out and survey the damage
and think about how to break the news to my
uncle and my date that I wouldn't be making it
to dinner. I grabbed a flash like my uncle kept
in the van, and I cracked the door open and
stepped out. And as soon as the door opened a
few inches, the air around me grew thicker. It seemed
like the air was energized, and the hairs on my
whole body started to rise from static electricity. A light
fog had come out of the trees where the beasts
crossed the road and traveled over the median. Whatever it was,
it had been going really fast. I stepped out of
the van and brushed off the weird feeling. But before
I could even close the door, I was confronted with
a horrible smell. It was a mix of wet dog
and rotting meat. I held back my urged vomit and
wondering how I was going to load this huge, stinking
creature into the van to take it home. When I
came around the front of the van and shine the light,
I saw there was absolutely no damage. I had a
lucky break. I thought maybe I hit it with the
tires in the side of the van only, so I
walked to the opposite side of the van, but it
was damage free too. I shined the light toward the
back of the van, not eager to look at the
beast I had just killed, but knowing I had to
get it over with. I needed to know what this
thing was. Had I imagined this or did that thing
look like a giant dog man? When I came around
the van, there was nothing there. There was no blood,
no fur, no tracks anywhere. I shined the light in
the direction the beast had been going, thinking maybe i'd
see it in the ditch, but there was no sign
of it there either. It had been hit and run
over by a two ton van going full speed, and
it made it out alive. I sat in the van
and I calmed down. I started the engine after a while,
and I got back on the road and I drove
toward my date's house, knowing I didn't have any proof
of the experience I just had, other than a wild
story that I knew no one would believe. My name
is Gage, and I'm a very small YouTuber who makes
videos about my resale business. You can use my name,
and I'm not worried if people think I'm crazy or not.
What happened to me was real, as if I can
find his channel and link it in the description. But
this was this was kind of an intriguing story, and
I'm continually, never endingly confused on what is the difference
between a werewolf and a dog man? Can someone explain
that to me in the comment section? Anyway, I hope
you guys enjoyed that story. Somebody made a comment the
other day claiming I write all these stories? Are you crazy?
Do you really think I have time to write all
these stories? These are real stories from real people. They
send them to me. People want to share their experiences
and hear them on a podcast. I think they send
them to me for various reasons. One to kind of
get the word out. One they've probably told other people
and they get laughed at. And they want to be
taken seriously. And they know that this audience will take
them seriously. They'll listen to these stories and think about
them and comment on them. I think it's a pretty
cool deal. So no, I don't write all these stories.
I have written a few, but I don't write. There's
no way a human being could write all these stories
that I do. I've got about fifty of them sitting
ready to go, already edited in a folder that I
mean to write a short story just this length. Excuse me?
Would probably take me three or four hours, and I
ain't got no time for that. I ain't got no
time for that. I gotta work. I got a job.
So now I don't write these stories, but I sure
hope you enjoy them, and I appreciate the people that
send them. If it weren't for them, this channel would
not be possible. I don't thank you guys enough for
sending these stories in, but I really do appreciate it,
and I love doing them. It has been one of
the joys of my life to share these stories with
the audience. And I never dreamed in a million years
this many people would send me their stories. But there's
one about to wear a Wolf, and I hope you
enjoyed it. I hope you guys have a good day.
We'll see on the next work. Thanks