A deer hunter, sitting in a tree stand near Dublin, Virginia, is startled by scratching sounds directly below him. For hours he attempts to catch a glimpse of this unknown being.
I recently received the following account:
"This story was told to me by my wife and it actually happened to one of her friends. I didn't get to hear it first hand. The man this happened to is a large no-nonsense security guard. A really quiet dude who likes to joke and isn't dramatic. My wife tells me that it's weird for him to tell a story and not have it end with a punchline.
So early November 2010, somewhere near Dublin, Virginia, Paul was walking through the woods toward his tree-stand. It was deer season and rifle in hand on that crisp early Saturday morning he was ready to ambush some game. He excitedly arrived at the tree stand and took a seat at the top. Paul settled in and got comfortable. The only sounds he could hear were leaves scattering as they were blown around in the wind. That morning, it was absolutely still. In his words, "it was damn peaceful." After a time he fell asleep.
Paul jerked awake at the sound of scratching at the base of his tree. He said it was like a large cat or bear was stretching against the tree putting its' weight forward and scraping the bark off to mark its' territory. Maybe a black bear or even a cougar. No way it was a deer though and whatever it was, it was standing directly under him. He leaned over the tree-stand, trying to see what it was. As he did it rushed away in the opposite direction and went behind the tree, just out of sight, leaves loudly crunching under its' feet as it went.
Paul waited to see what it would do, gun ready. If it was a bear, it might try to climb up the tree and he might have to shoot it. He thought it might be easiest to scare it off before it got aggressive. He aimed his gun up and fired a warning shot. The blast echoed over the forest and everything became still again. He didn't describe it as being peaceful this time. This time called it "f*cking eerie."
Nothing climbed up the tree as he had feared but nothing ran from behind the tree as he had hoped. Nothing moved at all. Just leaves swirling around in the wind. Paul began to wonder if it was a person instead of an animal. Maybe someone who was trying to play a trick on him but was too scared of being shot to move now.
He shouted "HEY." No response. He shouted again "Come out. Say something. I don't want to shoot you, but I will if you don't say anything." Again nothing. He waited and thought animals don't stay still for this long and it might be safe to come down. Paul slowly stood up and stepped onto the crude wooden step nailed on the side of the tree. As his foot touched the step he heard something move around to the other side of the tree. Paul scrambled around the tree stand and tried to look and see what it was, almost dropping his rifle as he went. Again, it was gone before he could catch a glimpse, back behind the tree.
Paul stood next to his seat and readied his rifle. Was this person or animal was dangerous? Maybe a rabid animal or mentally sick human? An escaped prisoner?
He decided that being afraid was not the best thing to do in this situation and instead of panicking, Paul waited. Unfortunately, the other thing was as patient as him and it waited too. Neither moved as the sun changed position and afternoon changed to dusk. Paul realized he had to relieve himself and if there was going to be a struggle, he could at least choose not to have it in darkness.
Paul stood and stepped onto the ladder again and again the other thing scrambled around to the other side of the tree. He froze for a moment and then steadied himself and climbed down quickly stumbling at the bottom trying to ready his weapon pointing it out holding it tight against his shoulder. He walked backward stepping through the leaves and he could hear it moving like it was trying to stay hidden. Paul circled the tree until he was standing under the tree-stand and he noticed the scratches. Running parallel six deep gashes in the tree (two sets of three).
As he was looking at the marks left by the other thing he saw a red arm. No mistake that it was a man. A red man. Paul was clear on this "I don't mean it was a red man like a Native American Indian, I mean he was red like a stop sign. Like the devil is red."
Paul lowered his gun and stepped backward and as he did the red man stepped out from behind the tree. He was completely naked and smiling huge, his teeth showing white the size of baseball cards in crooked patterns. His eyes were vacant and menacing. The red man never blinked as he stared. (Paul didn't describe what his body looked like or offer a reason why this red skinned man was naked.)
Paul took a step forward and as he did the red man mirrored his action exactly. Paul shook and stepped back. The red man froze as he did but moved forward as Paul moved backward. Paul raised his gun and pointed at the red man "stay back." He shouted. The red man began to walk toward him. Paul scrambled backward. He wasn't prepared to shoot, not at another person.
Paul stepped back and slung his rifle over his shoulder began to run back in the direction of his truck. His feet quickly carried him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw that the red man was just standing there. Staring at him. He slowed down and watched the red man shrink as he moved away from him. Smiling and naked. Staring. Paul lost sight of him a moment later and it was dark by the time he reached his truck. He said "Sometimes I lay awake worrying if I'll see the red man again. Whoever he was, he let me go."
He hasn't repeated the story since." SS
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