Horizon: Liberation – Chapter Three

AO3 link (for easier reading): https://archiveofourown.org/works/56595415/chapters/144768274

“He still refuses to accept your proposal,” the Blameless Marad asked rhetorically, “It’s a shame really. He’s the best chance we have of getting it to work.”

He’d moved so silently Avad hadn’t realized he was being approached until the man had spoken top him. As was typical of the Spymaster, he remained in the shadow and away from the sight of others who might act against him.

“Not now Marad, I’m not in the mood for your games,” Avad told him in an attempt to wave him away.

Marad simply kept himself planted firmly in place, as if he didn’t recognize the attempt to get him to leave.

“My apologies for pressing the matter, but there is a need to plan for what happens next. I suspect the King won’t take lightly to his chosen heir demanding an end to the raids.”

“What are you saying? Are you trying to claim he’ll punish Kadaman somehow? I very much doubt that.”

“Jiran is not a forgiving man, nor is he slow to calm once angered, which has become much too common as of late. At the very least, he will maybe consider selecting a new heir should Kadaman openly defy his king. You would be the obvious next choice for the role. Perhaps it’s best to begin making plans for such an eventuality?”

Avad considered it for a moment but then decided he was too tired for games. He could barely consider such a proposal at the best of times, much less right now. And rising against the Sun King would be an act against everything the Carja believed in.

“And what will he do if he finds out one of his advisors is conspiring against him? Especially one risen from such a low class.”

If Marad took any offence to the sudden insult, he didn’t show it instead remaining quiet, stoic and patient to the point of becoming stubborn.

“I act in the best interests of the tribe. Sometimes that means advising the King on important matters, other times it means ensuring the proper countermeasures are put into place to ensure the security of the tribe.”

“Even if that means acting against your King?”

“Should the need arise, then yes. In this case I believe helping you and your brother would be best for the tribe.”

Avad frowned. With Kadaman insisting on trying to reason with their father and Marad trying to convince him to overthrow him, it was starting to become too much for him to handle. He wanted to make it all go away, turn back to a time before the Red Raids and stay there. But such simple times were behind him and the issues presented before him were starting to give him a headache.

“I’ll consider it. But say nothing to Kadaman, just in case. Father might not throw us in the Sun Ring, but he won’t hesitate should you anger him. Now leave me, I need to get some rest. This day has gone on long enough.”

“Of course your Majesty. Light be with you.”

Marad left as quietly as he approached, remaining a mere shadow unseen by everyone else in the palace. Avad had his issues with the man, but he had to admit that Marad was rarely wrong about the important details. He wanted to trust Kadaman, take assurance that the Sun King could in fact be reasoned with, but the simple truth was simply that Jiran might be too far gone to be talked into ending the slaughter.

Avad kept thinking back to when he first saw that look in his father’s eyes, that need to spill blood and kill. It was at that moment he knew his father was toon far gone. There would be no end to the madness until he was removed from the throne and Kadaman made King in his place. But to overthrow a reigning Sun King would itself be an act of madness, a treasonous act against the very Sun itself. And if the faith of the priests were to be believed, the death of a Sun King would surely bring about the end of the world. Avad might not have been a particularly strong believer in the Sun Faith, in fact he very much held no faith at all, but even he was not one to tempt such dire fate. Or was he? Perhaps the only way to put an end to the madness and make the world right again was to end Jiran, end his insanity and his bloody reign before it was too late. Avad held no desire for a throne, and respected and adored his brother too much to deny him what was rightfully his. Perhaps killing his own father was… No. Avad quickly forced himself to stop thinking along these very dangerous lines of thought. To even consider killing his father was itself an act that went against everything Avad believed was right. The only way to end the madness was to encourage Kadaman to apply for regency. The priests couldn’t fight that, not without the support of the military and nobles. Admittedly even that would be a difficult task with Helis in command. But even he wouldn’t dare strike down the heir to the throne, as violent as he was. At the end of the day, all Avad could do was hope for the best. Even a Prince could only do so much and he had done as much as he could already. It was on Kadaman now to help bring their father back to reality and end the madness.

“You called for me,” Vanasha asked, annoyed at being called away from her present duties.

“Yes, I have a task for you. I need you to find the two Oseram brothers we hired for the Solstice Heist and bring them to Brightmarket,” Marad explained.

“You seem worried, is something wrong?”

“Perhaps. I am merely placing the right pieces on the board, that is all. Don’t worry about your master, I’ve already dealt with that. I’ll explain more when you return.”

“Understood.”

Skinwalkers Vol 2, Chapter Three

This story takes place in 1987, back when me and my family lived in a small town in Nevada. I was only ten at the time, old enough to be smart enough to think of all the dumb things a kid to do and stupid enough to at least attempt many of those dumb ideas I ended up getting. We lived in a good neighbourhood though and everyone knew I liked to get into trouble, so a few of the more elderly neighbours often times offered to keep an eye on me when my parents weren’t around. I believe this is what ended up saving my life back in March of that year when I encountered a monster for the first and only time in my life.

My parents had just left to pick up a few late night items from a nearby convenience store and a few films from the video rental store just down the road (I miss renting from video stores) for us to watch over the weekend and had left me home alone for the time being. I might have been stupid, but they trusted me enough to not do anything that could put me in danger and go to one of the neighbours should anything happen while they were gone. I had chosen to stay inside and play on my NES while they were gone, a rare case where I didn’t get a golden idea to cause any trouble.

My parents had barely been gone ten minutes when I heard someone knocking the door. Now, I may have been an incredibly stupid kid by my own admission, but I wasn’t so stupid as to answer the door while I was home alone. I was, however, stupid enough to look out the window next to the door to see who was there. To my surprise I didn’t actually see anyone, so I went back to playing on my NES. The door knocked again as soon as I sat back down, this time I ignored it. I knew some of the other kids that lived in the same street as me liked to play pranks on other people, so I assumed it was one of them. The person knocking on the door kept going for a few minutes before leaving and I thought that would be the end of it.

Then I got a phone call from Mrs Kingsley, one of the elderly folk who lived next door to me and my parents. She was nice, I liked her. A lot of people did. She wanted to know if I could come over while my parents were out. That wasn’t like her and I asked if something was wrong. She didn’t immediately respond but then claimed she was lonely and thought I might be able to come over while my parents were out. Looking back now I should have guessed that something was wrong, but back then I didn’t know any better, so I agreed to go over and spend some time with her. I was about to leave through the front door when I noticed someone standing on the other side (the door had a glazed window installed). Rather than open it, I went to the little window next to the door I had used earlier to look out. I was surprised to find Mrs Kingsley waiting outside my front door, which was odd as I had literally just put down the phone after she called me. There was no way she could be that fast, not at her age. I thought about opening the door, but as I did Mrs Kingsley looked straight at me and gave me a smile I’ll never forget. She looked straight at me with these cold, dead eyes and gave me the single most horrifying smile I have ever seen. In that moment I knew I wasn’t looking at my elderly neighbour, I was looking at the closest I’ll ever get to pure evil.

Then she tried to talk to me, except I couldn’t hear her. I doubt it would have mattered since her mouth moved unnaturally. It wasn’t like she was actually talking, more like she was pretending to talk or trying to learn how to. I was scared, but it got worse when I realized she didn’t have normal teeth. Instead of human teeth it looked as if she had the same teeth as a dog, at least that’s what it looked like to me. I wanted to scream, to call for help but couldn’t. I was frozen in fear and unable to move. I knew what it wanted without it having to make a sound. It wanted me to open the door and let it in, but I couldn’t. I knew I would be safe so long as the door remained shut and locked (for once I was thankful my parents locked the front door whenever they left the house). It continued to move like it was talking to me. I don’t know how long we both just stood there, but eventually I saw the headlights from the car my parents had at the time coming down the road. It must have spotted the light as well as it moved away and back towards the house where Mrs Kingsley lived and disappeared out of view.

My dad mentioned seeing Mrs Kingsley standing outside the front door window as he came in through the door and asked me about why she was standing there. I didn’t know how to explain to him that I saw a monster and just told him she’s been acting weird all night. He promised to go check up on her. He went to her house and tried to talk to her but she didn’t answer the door, then he came back, probably just writing it off as a weird incident. We spent the rest of the night watching a film before I went to bed.

The following morning I found out that my Dad had gone back over to try and check in on Mrs Kingsley again after I went to bed. He ended up using the spare key she’d given him in case of any emergencies to get in. He found her dead on the kitchen floor. From what I learnt later on when I was much older, she had been attacked a few hours before I had the encounter with the monster. Somehow that still terrifies me more than the actual encounter. Whatever it was, it must have killed her before trying to come after me. As for my parents, well we’ve never actually talked about it. We all know we saw Mrs Kingsley, even though she would’ve been dead at the time. And yet we did see her. To this day I still don’t have an explanation and I don’t want one either. I’m just glad I never saw that thing again, whatever it was.

Horizon: Liberation – Chapter Two

AO3 (for easier reading): https://archiveofourown.org/works/56595415/chapters/144375634

Ersa waited for the Carja convoy to pass by the last line of explosives before she gave the signal to proceed. The war against the Carja had taught her patience, a skill she had long since perfected and added to an ever growing deadly arsenal. She could hear the arrogant boasting of the lead Kestral despite the sizeable distance and large rock that separated the two of them as he told of his many achievements against the inferior Oseram and their attempts to repel the Carja invaders.

“Asera, blow them on my mark,” she whispered, “Three, two, BLOW!”

A large explosion immediately erupted and consumed the rear guard of the Carja convoy, shooting shockwaves through both ends of the canyon. Three of the Carja caught in the blast died instantly and several more were severely injured from the resulting flames and debris. Two dozen Oseram warriors erupted from the canyon walls and immediately began dealing with the now disorganized Carja soldiers. Unable to react in time to the sudden attack, most of the Carja fell before they could draw their weapons and defend themselves. Ersa went straight for the Kestral, gutting him with his spear as he raised his sword to strike her down. She pulled her weapon from him and he fell to the ground with a heavy thud. She managed to strike down several more Carja soldiers who had valiantly decided to avenge their fallen commander. She turned to see the others were already finishing off the last of the Carja.

“Hurry and free the captives before reinforcements get here,” she shouted, “Asera, finish taking what you need. I don’t want you leaving anything behind for the Carja to use.”

“Right, just give me a minute.”

The fight couldn’t have lasted for more than five minutes, but that only meant it had gone on for three minutes too long for Ersa to remain comfortable. The last thing they needed was another Carja patrol to fight off while trying to fall back with the rescued captives and injured fighters.

“Ersa,” Asera shouted from behind the same boulder they had both been behind, “We’re good to go!”

“Right! Everyone, let’s go!”

She made sure she was the last one to leave the battlefield. She wouldn’t allow anyone else to be left behind. Not while she could still fight.

…

The merry band of Freebooters returned to camp with the rescued captives and were met with a renewed celebration. There were offers of drinks from everyone they passed, but Ersa only cared about seeing her brother again.
“Hey lunkhead,” she spoke softly to him, “How you feeling?”

Erend sat up and waved her concern off.

“I’m fine,” he told her with confident bravado, “Just eager to fight again. Don’t like sitting in here while you’re out hogging all the glory.”

“Did you thank Korl? He did save your life after all.”

“We had a drink together, yeah. Some things were said, it turned into a brawl. It’s all good now.”

“Erend,” she muttered with disappointment, “You weren’t supposed to fight him, or anyone, until you were fully healed.”

“I am though, see,” told her while standing up to prove his point, “I’m as good as I’ll ever be. Just, don’t make walk in a straight line and we’ll be okay.”

“Okay, I won’t,” Ersa laughed, “Come on, let’s get you another drink while I’m still in a good mood.”

“I see you got everyone,” Dervahl stated with a quiet, malicious cheer, “Asera tells me the Carja dropped like Striders to arrows.”

“What can I say, we fought well,” Ersa told him blankly, “She did a good job with those explosives. Her explosives did most of the work, even managed to take out a couple before we even got a chance to fight.”

“Ha, I should have thought of that,” he suddenly laughed out loud, “Kill them with our explosives AND rescue those they took! I knew the two of you could do it without me.”

Ersa couldn’t help but notice how uncomfortable some of the others became when Dervahl laughed out loud. He’d become more… alienating to most everyone since his family had been killed. His way of fighting against the Carja had always been effective, but now it was simply becoming more excessive and it was becoming too much for many of the others who had taken up the call to fight back against the invaders.”

“Yea, it worked out great,” she finally told him dryly, “I doubt it’ll keep working if we overuse it. Remember what happened last time Korl had a good idea?”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he answered before turning to Erend, “How’s the stab wound?”

“It’s fine. I’m just eager to get into the fight again,” came the drunken, nearly incoherent response.

“That’s great news. Next time, we’ll fight together again.”

“Speaking of ambushes, why didn’t you come with us,” Ersa asked Dervahl with a hint of suspicion.

“You know why. Besides, you didn’t need me. You did fine on your own.”

It was always the same story with Dervahl. He was always so eager to fight the Carja, but sometimes he was so caught up in his own plans that he sometimes chose not to take part in the ambushes and attacks he himself had planned. He was up to something, something that would drive yet more Oseram away and radicalize those who sincerely followed him. He always took things too far, even if it meant driving away his allies in the process, just like at Unflinching Watch. He’d gone too far during the attempt to capture the watchtower. They had intended to take it and use it to secure the eastern route between the two tribes, limiting the number of ways the Carja could use to continue their plunder of the Oseram tribe. Instead Dervahl lost control and used his explosives to destroy the watchtower. That explosion killed many of the Carja defenders and some of the Oseram that Dervahl and Ersa took to take the location from them. He seemed to enjoy it, the very act of destroying everything Carja seemed to be the only thing he cared about that day. And those who came back knew it. Ersa and a few others stayed, many others chose to leave. She didn’t blame them. She would’ve too if she thought there was a better way to fight the Carja that didn’t mean having to follow the monster known as Dervahl. She would simply have to suffer with him, for now at least.

Skinwalker Stories, Vol.2 Chapter Two

This just happened last week, so it’s still fresh on my mind. I live out in Montana on my ranch that’s been owned by my family for some six generations. Actually, my family was the one who first made the ranch back in 1871 and were prominent supporters of Montana becoming a state. It’s actually something we take a bit of pride in, especially as the family legend goes that we never opposed the local Americans the same way many others did at the time. Still, that isn’t as important as what happened to me last week.

I believe my family was attacked by a Skinwalker. This happened last Tuesday night and I still can’t get the nightmares out of my head. I can’t seem to let go of what I saw that night. I believe it began with the visit of an elderly Native American woman dressed in traditional attire. She had come to the family ranch looking to buy several live chickens for some reason or another, I assume to raise for herself. Well, we didn’t sell live chickens and my dad told her as much. She seemed upset, claiming she knew we more than enough chickens to keep us going and insisted we sell her some. My dad is is a well meaning and good tempered man, he’s not one to get easily annoyed or upset. He told her politely that those chickens were being raised for their eggs and meat, which they needed for themselves. Times have been hard lately and the chickens are one of the best and most reliable sources of food we have, so selling them really wasn’t an option for us. She didn’t take this information kindly and warned my father that his “greed” would cost him greatly before leaving. I was stood not far behind my dad when he was trying to deal with this random stranger demanding he sell his chickens to her and I almost expected her to attack him or something rather than just walk off. We laughed it off later on though as just another Karen making entitled demands.

I woke up in the middle of the night to my dad screaming at me to get up. I was confused as it was only half one in the morning and we didn’t normally get up until five so we could do our morning rounds. That’s when I realized why he was screaming at me: it sounded like there was a pack of coyotes in with the hens we kept for egg laying. He had me get up and gave me one of the shotguns we kept to deal with the coyotes and told me to stay at the house in case they came this way (this wasn’t the first time we had to shoot coyotes, they’re the biggest issue we have to deal with out her) and told me to deal with as many of them as I could, given half a chance. I asked him where he was going and he told me he was going to deal with the coyotes before they killed the whole flock. Now, my dad is the meanest bastard I know when to comes to facing down coyotes. He’d been dealing with them himself since he was just a little kid, so I knew he could take care of himself. The howling stopped after thirty or so minutes and I assumed he’d dealt with them, judging by the several gunshots I heard.

He never came back.

An hour later and I was upstairs in my parents room with my mother and two sisters. We were arguing about whether or not to go after dad since he hadn’t returned yet. Before we could decide what to do, however, we were interrupted by a loud knocking coming from the front door. Dad didn’t need to knock, which is what scared us. Had something happen to dad? Who could’ve been knocking on the door if not him? He wasn’t known for his sense of humour, if he even had one. I crept downstairs and looked outside the dining room window as it had the best viewpoint of the front door. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. It was the same Native American lady from earlier in the day, the one who demanded my dad sell her some of his chickens. But… it also wasn’t her. I mean it looked like her, but also different. She seemed taller. Before she’d been much smaller than me and I’m 5ft5. She was taller than the door frame. And her hands. I couldn’t see all that clearly due to how dark it was, but for some reason I could clearly see her hands weren’t really hands but almost liked dog prints with claws. And her eyes glowed a deep red. I didn’t know what to make of it. I didn’t even know if I was seeing what I thought I was seeing. I was scared and it was dark, maybe it was just an illusion. But then she looked straight at me, raised her hand(?) and motioned for me to let her in.

A part of me felt compelled to let her in. It was the strangest feeling I’ve ever had, like some sort of sickness but in a good way. But another part of me just wanted to scream for her to leave, and I did. I started screaming and hollering for her to leave, telling her I’d shoot if she didn’t leave. I heard the others upstairs starting to scream at me, trying to get me to stop. It felt like it took forever but the woman outside just gave me a cruel smile before turning and walking away.

I ended up passing out right by the window. I don’t know what happened next, just that I was found unconscious after screaming at the window for several minutes. I woke up to the news that my dad had been found near the chicken coop. He was in serious condition: officially, he had been attacked by a large animal, thought to be a wolf or large coyote and he wasn’t expected to make it. But he managed to tell me, before slipping into a coma, that he was attacked by the woman who had come to the house earlier. He saw her turn from a coyote into a woman, then back into the coyote. If I hadn’t seen her for myself, I doubt I would have believed him.

My dad died this morning from his injuries. We’ve already decided to sell the ranch and move to another state. I have an aunt in LA willing to take us in until we can get on our feet. Not sure what my mum and sisters are going to do, but I put in for the Marines yesterday. I’m only 22, so it’ll be easy enough to get in. Going to bury dad then get the hell out of Montana. After what just happened, it’ll be a cold day in hell before I allow myself to go back. Never again.

Cabin Fever

This story was sent in by someone who wishes to remain anonymous:

This takes place five years ago, right after I married my wife. It started the night we arrived at our cabin near one of the many lakes in Canada. For privacy reasons I won’t say where, since most of my inner circle know I used to own that particular cabin and I don’t want them finding out about the real reason I sold the cabin. I feel like it’s important to note that both me and my wife had spent the previous winter at the cabin, converting it into an off grid homestead for us to live in after we got married. We didn’t have encounters during that two and a half month long period, and we didn’t find anything sign of something else living there.

The first day went as normally as anyone would expect. We went hiking, had some fun back at the cabin, spent the evening fishing before going to bed around 10:30. We didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, however my wife did point out during our hike how there was a lack of wildlife in the area. There should’ve been plenty of deer and a strong pack of wolves, along with a whole bunch of other wildlife I unfortunately know little about despite being a semi-regular hunter (I’ve only ever hunted deer for the meat). I had noticed it too, but hadn’t thought much of it at the time. I didn’t much care either way, I was too busy staring at my wife (she’s always been absolutely beautiful to me).

The next day we started to notice the first signs of something strange going on. We’d got up early so that we could go fishing. Problem was, we’d left our fishing gear out on the porch the night before only for it to go missing by the time we woke up. It didn’t help that we were no where near other people: the nearest town was probably a hundred miles away and the nearest road was probably a good fifty miles or so. It made even less sense for some animal to simply come up to our cabin and steal our fishing gear, or so we thought anyway. We spent the rest of the day trying to find the missing gear without any real luck. Eventually we gave up and decided to simply sit outside by the campfire. My wife was and still is an avid guitar player, so she spent the evening playing her guitar while I read books on my Kindle.

It wasn’t until around none o’clock or so that we started to hear howling coming from the forest. This isn’t unusual, plenty of animals howl for one reason or another. What was unusual was it seemed to be coming from the small island in the middle of the lake. As far as we knew, the only kinds of animals that lived on the island were birds, which we doubted would be making any sort of noise that time of night. The howling kept going for another couple of hours, maybe two or three before it stopped. After that there wasn’t much we could do but try and get some sleep.

We were woken up in the middle of the night by the sound of scratching on the cabin walls. It almost sounded like a tree was scraping all along the outside of the cabin walls, which couldn’t be possible as I had spent the winter clearing all the trees around the cabin to use for firewood (and to avoid damaging the building during the growing seasons). At first I thought it might be a bear, but then the scratching gave way to the loudest howl I’ve ever heard. It was a blood curdling scream that seemed to go straight through me. I knew my wife felt the same way by the way she clung to me. The howl seemed to go on forever, but it did eventually stop. There seemed to be only a few moments of silence before the whole cabin started to shake. It wasn’t like there was something being thrown at it, no it was more like someone was trying to pick the whole thing up with a forklift. We were thrown out of our beds and I immediately went to grab my hunting rifle from the storage room. The shaking lasted no more than a minute or so, then everything seemed to return to normal.

We spent the rest of the night staying in the storage room, where we felt the safest. We only dared leave once we knew morning had come. The place was a mess. Everything not nailed down had been thrown all over the place by the shaking from the night before. What we hadn’t somehow noticed from the night before was that all the windows had been smashed. Someone had been throwing big rocks at the windows and had ended up smashing all of them in. Through it all, however, the door had remained shut and locked. Whatever was outside all night hadn’t tried to enter the cabin, which I’m very grateful for.

We called in for the seaplane to come pick us up that morning and spent most of the rest of our time there packing what belongings we could to take back with us. We didn’t say it out loud, but I have no doubt neither of us wanted to return to the cabin. About an hour before the seaplane picked us up, I was outside trying to clean up the area around the campfire when I saw it. There was something just inside the trees just to the left of the cabin. I don’t know what brought my attention to it, I guess I just had a feeling something might be there. I don’t know what it was I was looking at. It must have been eight or nine foot tall and standing on its hind legs, or at least I think it was. I thought at first that it must have been a bear, but I then realized that it didn’t look like a bear. It didn’t have the ears and its fur must have been the deepest black I’ve ever seen. I just stood there frozen in fear, even though I was holding my rifle at the time. That thing, whatever it was, was just staring straight back at me. Then it stepped away into the forest. I ran back into the cabin and was immediately confronted by my wife. She’d seen it too and asked me what it was while crying. I told I didn’t know, but I did have an idea. I never believed in Bigfoot, I still don’t really. But I can’t forget what I saw that day.

We sold the cabin a few months later. I only went back twice. Once a few days before the sale to make repairs and take the photos and again when the guy I sold it to wanted to have a look. I’m only thinking about it now because the guy who brought it supposedly went missing during a fishing trip to the cabin. When someone went to the cabin to look for him, they found the cabin had been almost destroyed. People are saying it could be a bear or wolves. I’m not. I know what did it. And I know he’ll likely never be found again, at least alive. I hope I’m wrong about that though.

The Diary of 1987

June 4^th 1987

Finally free of my ex-wife. Guy did the deed three days ago and is all paid up. And I’m out here in my cabin in the middle of nowhere without a care in the world. About damn time someone took care of her.

June 8^th 1987

I don’t know how they found out but somehow the cops think I murdered Sarah. Technically, someone else killed her for me, but they don’t need to know that. I’ve had to return to my cabin to pick up a few pieces before I go back and deal with the situation. They can’t link her death back to me and they won’t. I got the perfect alibi and no trace between me and the hit.

June 12^th 1987

The case apparently hit a dead end. They can’t link me back to her murder and they’re out of suspects. Don’t know where the hitman went. Probably back to wherever he came from, not like I care. So long as he keeps his mouth shut I’m a free man.

July 1^st 1987

I’m back at the cabin. Bastard talked and now I’m in fucking trouble because of it. If I go back home they’ll just arrest me. If I run they’ll find me. But they don’t know about the cabin. I hiked here from that dump of a town some 60 miles back. Took a few days but I can’t risk using the seaplane and leaving a record. That’s how they find you.

July 2^nd 1987

I could swear I’m being watched. Have those damn feds found me?

July 4^th 1987

Not so happy Independence Day. I’ve spent the whole night trying to sort out the generator. Someone stuck an old knife into the oil tank. Don’t know if it was meant to explode or not, but I’m lucky it didn’t. I’m relying on only the two solar panels now. Should be enough though. I still feel like I’m being watched.

July 5^th 1987

There’s something out there. I’ve seen glimpses of it, like a bear on its hind legs. I must be going crazy. Maybe it’s a trick. Yeah, my mind is playing tricks on me. Making me see things that aren’t there. I’ll be fine in a few days.

July 8^th 1987

I saw it again. Just a glimpse of black on the other side of the field. I think it was a bear, but I couldn’t tell how it was walking. Is it following me? I need a gun.

July 20^th 1987

Had to go back in town and steal myself some guns. The police haven’t found me yet, which is good. But I was followed. That thing, that bear. I know it’s after me. And it walks on two feet. I don’t know how or why, but it followed me all the way to town and back. It’s been watching me this whole time. But it hasn’t attacked, just left me alone. That’s fine with me. It just needs to stay out of my way and there’ll be no issues.

July 23^rd 1987

It came for me. It’s outside right now. I can hear it walking around, waiting for me to sleep. I had to shoot it, hit it a few times with the rifle. That sound, oh God that sound will be with me. I’m going to try and make a run for it in the morning. Get back to town.

July 24^th 1987

Got another 40 or so miles to go. Left the moment I was able to see the sun. I don’t know where it is, but it can’t be far away.

Date Unknown

I’m lost, I don’t know where I am. It came back for me and chased me down into a cave system. I was just small enough to squeeze through the crack. It was too big. I found my way out, but now I don’t know where I am. I’m going to keep heading south, hit a road and maybe find my way from there.

Date Unknown

I… I’m not going to make it back. My leg’s broken. Pretty sure a few of my ribs are broken too. Used the last of the ammo to keep it away. It’s watching me right now. By the stream, maybe 40 feet away. Won’t take long. One bullet left. I’ll meet that bitch in hell. At least the cops didn’t get me.

Horizon: Liberation – Chapter One

Link to AO3 for easier reading: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56595415/chapters/143847463

[This work is not endorsed or officially supported by Guerrilla Games or Sony, who own all rights. No money was earned for the work produced.]

“I think we lost them,” Takiv attempted to say as he struggled to catch his breath.

The two brothers stood for a moment, expecting to see a glimpse of the Carja soldiers chasing after them. They didn’t dare say anything to each other as they waited to see what would happen. Minutes passed without either of them spotting any sign of the raiders pursuing them.

“Thank the Forge it’s over,” Takiv sighed with relief.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Tavim told him cautiously, his eyes now focused on the rest of the surrounding environment, “We’re in Nora land now. If they don’t know we’re already, they soon will. We’ll have to be careful to step carefully. A Nora Brave can track a mouse on stone should they want to. We better find somewhere to camp for the night.”

Takiv felt his sense of relief immediately vanish upon realizing where they were. The Nora did not tolerate outsiders, regardless of their tribe.

Night fell as the two brothers prepared for the long journey back west the following day.

“I suppose we should be lucky we haven’t encountered any Nora yet,” Takiv said with a dulled sense of relief.

“Don’t be too sure,” Tavim told him, “They’re probably watching us from a distance. Too much effort to kill, or perhaps they don’t want to bother with us when they don’t have to.”

“How would you know?”

“I came here a few years ago, remember? Looking for scrap with Boland and his crew.”

“At least we got a warm fire for a change. Where are we anyway?”

“Maybe half a day south of Devils Grief. We’re next to the mountains that border the eastern most part of the Nora Sacred Land. I hear there are vast planes of grassland and wind so strong it can lift herds of machine into the air beyond these mountains.”

“By spit and fire you come out with the dumbest goat shit. There ain’t no wind strong enough to lift any machine, not even a watcher.”

“That’s just what I heard. Remember Kevah? Bolands sister? Apparently she went beyond these mountains a year before the raids began.”

“Whatever happened to her? She ever return to the Claim like she was supposed to?”

“No. Her caravan was raided last year. She was killed, along with six others. Rest went to Sunfall. She got lucky.”

The Red Raids had been going on nine years too long. Both brothers knew plenty who’d been killed, or worse taken the Carja city of Sunfall to fight in the Sun Ring. The Carja claimed it was to appease their precious Sun, not that the reasons mattered to anyone. It was merely understood by everyone that it was better to die fighting than be sent to the Sun Ring.

“Shame, I liked her,” Takiv noted quietly.

“Sure you did, not like you had a chance.”

They had both lost so much in the last few years. Sure, it had made their bond stronger than the one most siblings shared. But it had also caused them to forget what it meant to never struggle to survive. The last nine years had been difficult, with not even the Claim safe from the Carja and their apparent lust for needless slaughter.

“When was the last time we went home,” Tavim asked with a quiet sadness.

“Couple of years, I think. Why?”

“Just thinking about everyone we left behind. Wondering if any of them are still around.”

“Well don’t. No good thinking about the forge when the fires too hot to touch. Besides, they all know what they’re doing. I’m sure they’re keeping themselves safe.”

“Still, I’d like to visit sooner, rather than later. Just to see for myself.”

…

Takiv woke the following morning to an unexpected surprise.

“Who’s that,” he asked, pointing to the sleeping stranger next to the campfire.

“Don’t know,” Tavim answered while focusing more on packing up the few supplies the two brothers had left to them.

The stranger didn’t appear to be a member of any tribe he was familiar with. He clearly wasn’t Nora, or Carja. Maybe Banuk, but even that seemed to be a stretch as he didn’t have the expected blue cables inserted into his skin as a Banuk would have.

“Could he have come from beyond the eastern mountains,” he asked out loud.

“Unlikely. There are cannibals and Nora exiles beyond those mountains. I doubt they’d let someone like him through unharmed,” Tavim explained, “He’s not from the west either. I’ve met both Tenakth and Utaru and he’s neither. I don’t know his tribe, if he haves one.”

Beyond the strange clothing, the stranger also appeared to lack any weapons or supplies. He couldn’t have come from very far without either.

“We should at least see if he needs help,” Takiv told his brother, “After all, he does seem to need it.”

“No. We already don’t have enough to get us out of the Sacred Land, let alone making that far with some stranger. We need to keep moving to avoid both the Nora and the Carja.”

“Oh come on Tavim, look at him! We can’t just leave him here.”

The two brothers were backed into their own stubborn prides and refused to admit defeat. They knew both of the were right, but they only cared about being more right than the other.

“Fine,” Tavim finally gave in, “I’ll wake him up, but we need to get moving quickly.”

Tavim woke the stranger with a rough shake, causing him to jolt upright with the unexpected shock. The stranger looked around without saying a word, and to the two brothers it looked like he was attempting to look for a danger that wasn’t really there.

“Hello,” Takiv spoke with some small degree of charm, “Nice to finally see you awake. My brother and I were just about to leave.”

The stranger didn’t immediately respond, instead he continued to keep his eyes on the world as he sat up. He scanned the trees, the grass, the sky looking for a threat he thought should be there.

“You looking for something,” Tavim asked.

“No, I… just had a nightmare. Wanted to be sure I am where I thought I should be.”

Tavim and Takiv looked at each other with a shared concern.

“You’re not from around here, are you,” Takiv asked politely, “Mind if I ask where you’re from?”

The stranger seemed to calm a little before continuing the conversation.

“No…,” he answered carefully, “I came from the far east after my tribe was destroyed. I was hoping to find somewhere new to start again.”

“Well, you came to the wrong place for that. These days we have more endings than beginnings,” Takiv explained, “Probably a good thing we found you before someone else does. People just aren’t as friendly as they used to be.”

“I see. Well, at least you two seem friendly enough. My names David, if you’re needing to know.”

“David. Strange name that. Well, I’m Takiv and that miserable old bastard over there is my older brother Tavim. Don’t mind him, he’s always been like that.”

Tavim simply grunted his response, not caring about the insult casually thrown his way.

“It’s time for us to go,” Tavim said almost immediately after packing away the last of the supplies.

The sun had risen enough that they were an obvious target to anyone passing by and he was anxious to get moving again before they were found.

“Hey, David, why don’t you come with us,” Takiv quickly offered, “It’d be nice to have pleasant company for a change.”

“Hey! I already told you we don’t have enough supplies for all three of us!”

David remained silent while he considered it. Somehow he knew he could trust them, that following them would be the right choice to make. But he second guessed the feeling. He didn’t know them, not enough to know for sure if he could trust them. But the feeling was one he had been all too familiar with and he had learned to trust it when it came to making choices.

“Okay. I’ll come with you,” he finally told them with a smile, “It’ll be nice having some company for a change.”

“Fine, have it your way,” Tavim sighed in defeat, “But we’ll need to gather what supplies we can along the way, even if that means looting it. That okay with you?”

“No problem,” David agreed, “Not like any of us have a choice.”

Skinwalker Stories Vol. 2, Chapter One

Story One:

As a retired Police Officer, I have my own collection of weird stories that I have until now refused to share with anyone. The following story may seem unbelievable, but I can assure you it really happened.

It’s important to set the scene for those unfamiliar with it. At this point in time I was still a young Police Officer working at a small town department in the middle of nowhere Texas. Those from there might know what I’m talking about. The sort of town with maybe two hundred people who kept to themselves and never involved law enforcement unless it was serious. The sort of town where the department acted more like sheriffs due to budget cuts at the time. People dealt with their own problems, if they even admitted to having problems. We officers often found ourselves with nothing to do most days, since there wasn’t much out where we were.

The day started normally until we got a call out to a homesteader. Homesteaders were often the last people to call in for any sort of help, certainly never from law enforcement. The one who gave us the call was Old Bill (not his real name), a particularly stubborn and paranoid old rancher whose best days were long behind him, if he had any. The sort of guy who’d come into town once a month to buy shotgun shells and stock up on enough supplies to last him another month. Me and my partner, Derrick (again, not his real name), were the ones who drew the short straw and got sent out to check up on the old bastard. We got there and knew something was wrong when his daughter came out screaming and covered in blood. Turns out he’d been killed the night before by some animal, what we initially believed to be a coyote. Strange thing was that he’d been killed, but not eaten, and all of his cattle were still on the ranch. They hadn’t been touched, though they were acting jumpy as if something was wrong. We naturally called it in and got that whole mess sorted.

It wasn’t until three days later that it happened again. Another homesteader and his family didn’t show up for the town market. Dean and his family. They never missed a market, they sold their produce there and that’s how they earned their way so we again got sent out to see where they were. Dean was dead. Found him on his porch, all torn up as if an animal had gotten to him. But his family, his wife and two girls, were missing. We found them the following day in the forest. They had been killed: but not by no animal. Whoever killed them had done things to them I won’t describe here, but needless to say none of us would forget what happened to them.

We initially thought it was a coyote, but after Dean and his family we had to confront the possibility of some serial killer with a fighting dog who was targeting homesteaders. This scared a lot of people. It was no longer considered safe to go outside, even during the daytime. Then a stranger began coming into town a few days after the family was murdered. Said he was sent by the FBI to investigate the killings, claimed it was a pattern he’d seen in other towns across multiple states. Thing was we never contacted the FBI. Not even a phone call or letter sent either way. But he had the badge and claimed he could help us with the investigation. Spoke with like a Dallas boy, was polite and everything. Had we known we’d have shot him there and then. Hindsights a real bitch.

It happened a week after the FBI agent came to town. A family of three who ran the local grocery store were found dead in their apartment above the store. They had been torn apart, the wife had been raped repeatedly before she had been killed. This time we had an eyewitness: a guy was walking past the night before and saw a coyote enter the store. But he was crazy: he told us he saw the coyote stand up on its hind legs and open the door with a human hand and then walking in like a human would. He ran home supposedly without being seen by this thing he saw. Well, we thought he was crazy, until we checked the security tapes from the store. Sure enough there was something that looked like a coyote walk through the store and towards the back, where it could walk upstairs where the family would have been. We were… disturbed after watching the tape. We didn’t know what we saw, we couldn’t be sure that we weren’t going crazy ourselves. But we all saw the tape, saw the exact same thing. The worst part is the tapes never recorded the thing, whatever it was, leaving. It never left, meaning it was there when we found the bodies.

The FBI agent was brought in and he himself was confused by the tape, but his reaction was different to ours. He wasn’t surprised by what the security tapes had recorded, more interested. What’s worse is that it seemed as if he hadn’t expected the cameras to pick up on whatever that thing was and record it to tape to begin with. He mentioned something about werewolves and something called a skinwalker, but would refuse to elaborate when asked.

That’s where the story ends. The final twist is the killings stopped almost immediately following the family. The FBI agent disappeared, along with all the evidence we collected. Turns out he stole it and later on we contacted the nearest FBI office and found out that he wasn’t a real agent at all. The guy had been a complete stranger. We never found out who he really was or why he’d pose as an FBI agent and steal the evidence. I figure he knew the guy who killed those people, or was responsible for it himself. As for the tapes, it could have been a costume. But the case never really added up. There was no dog or coyote, but those people were definitely killed by some type of animal. Yet the rapes were committed by a person. But why would the guy supposedly responsible pretend to be an FBI agent and steal all the evidence? To this day it doesn’t add up. I’ve had one more case like that, in New York about a decade later. But I’ll keep that one to myself for now.

Story Two:

I previously talked about a strange case I worked on as a younger officer working in a small town in Texas. At the end I mentioned how I would work on a similar case in New York a decade later. I would like to tell you that story now.

This was in 2001, shortly after the Trade Towers fell. It was a complete mess all around. All hands on deck, help where we could. The focus of the time, however, was obviously all on the two towers as it should have been. But that didn’t mean crime stopped and many of us Police Officers had to work on cases despite wanting to go help with that situation. I was no different, but I was one of many who had to work on cases rather than volunteer to help out. Now don’t get me wrong, what we do is important and I’d always put my job first. Just I was disappointed in not being able to help more.

I’m getting off track. This one case came across my desk and I immediately recognized the MO. A family of three above a grocery store had been killed by what looked like an animal, with the mother and daughter having been raped before their deaths. This time, however, there was no security tapes. They’d been stolen and the cameras destroyed, presumably by the suspect. And there were no witnesses this time either. But it seemed so similar to that one case I’d worked a decade earlier and asked my captain if I could request the notes from my old department. He was a bit confused before I explained the similarities in the two cases. He was obviously concerned about a serial killer operating in the city, especially if there were two similar cases in two different states as that meant the FBI would want to get involved (he was one of the old guard who had no love for the FBI), but agreed to let me phone up my old colleagues. Sure enough, the last murders from the older case were almost identical to these new murders. This led me down the rabbit hole looking for similar cases in the city from the last few weeks. I found two more: a librarian killed in her home and a single mother and her three sons killed in their home as well. It was enough for my captain to assign more manpower to my case.

We worked the case for just over a week with very little to show. I had a small team of detectives and some beat cops, not the best or the brightest but I hoped would still be enough to catch the bastard. I’d already told them about the guy who came to us claiming to be an FBI agent working the case and how he stole the evidence we had right before disappearing, but when it came to the tape I explained that the guy we thought responsible would likely be wearing some kind of animal costume. I didn’t want to try and explain the idea of an animal walking on its own two legs. In my old case, the person responsible seemed to disappear as soon as we got close to a real lead on his identity, meaning the fake FBI agent was either the suspect or at least directly related to him. I managed to find an old image of him we’d taken off one of the station cameras and had it spread around my team in the event the guy turned up here.

As it happens, he did in fact turn up, but as one of the victims. We got a call out to some cheap motel by the manager. The guy was laying on the bed, obviously mauled to death by some animal. I immediately demanded the security tapes, which were broken. The manager said the guy checked in as an FBI agent under the same name he told me and the others. Had the ID and everything. Well, we found the ID, as well as a standard issue handgun and a suitcase full of suits. No other paperwork. The ID and gun were both fake and obviously old enough where tracing them would be near impossible (we tried anyway, just in case). The manager then said something that caught my interest. He said the dead guy had a strange looking dog on him. Said it was a coyote he kept as a pet. The problem was there was no sign of there having been an animal in the room at any point. No dog food, no food or water bowls. Not even any hair. As far as we were concerned, the victim had been in his room alone.

Three hours after we found the fake FBI agent, we got another call from an apartment complex nearby of an animal trying to break into some of the apartments. We got there as quickly as we could, although the animal had already left the crime scene. Thankfully nobody had been killed this time, but we found claw marks, animal prints and even security footage of a coyote trying to get into some of the apartments. And the damn thing stood up on its hind legs and walked like a human did, even using a human had to try and open doors. Even though this is the second time I’d encountered footage of this happening, it still confused and shocked me to see it all again. And just like last time there was no real explanation for any of it.

We got a good, clear look at the thing, whatever it was. It looked like some twisted mix between a man and a coyote. The face was horrifying. It was both man and coyote at the same time, but also neither. It didn’t make any sense. None of us knew what to say or how best to respond.

The murders stopped after the incident with the apartments. And with the Twin Towers still fresh nobody outside our small team knew about the murders or even cared. The case ended up being closed without any real answers being found and the files buried so far deep I doubt anyone will find them. Looking back, knowing what I know now I think it may have been a skinwalker. At the time I didn’t even know what those were, but now it makes sense. All of it. I have been unable to find any other explanation in all the years I’ve lived since. I doubt I will. I retired last year without knowing for sure what that thing is or what happened. Is it still out there, killing and raping? I heard rumours of something similar in Japan in 2008 and again in Jerusalem in 2010. But since then nothing. I’m not sure I even want to know. Not any more.

Skinwalker Stories #30

Story 1:

I fought a Skinwalker and somehow survived. This happened ten years ago when I was staying with my then girlfriend out in Texas. We were staying at this farmhouse owned by her father, hoping to get it back in shape after years of being left to the elements. It began stalking us almost as soon as we arrived in that it took the form of a coyote and began following us everywhere whenever we left the farmhouse. If I went to the old barn, it was there. If my girlfriend went to the old well and pump, it’d follow her too. We didn’t think much of it, assuming it was just a normal coyote that was overly friendly. I should have shot it while I had the chance. Three nights in and shit hit the fan hard. We were about to hunker down for the night when this weird sickening scream move through the house and into the bedroom we were staying in. It was almost unnatural in the way it moved, like the very sound itself had a mind of its own. Then we heard a knocking at the front door and a thin raspy voice spoke out: “Oh you poor dears, I hope I didn’t scare you. Let me in and I can apologize properly.” It wasn’t a natural voice. It… sounded like one of those old voice recorders where it’s obvious it’s not a human speaking. My girlfriend wanted to go see who it was, not wanting to believe it couldn’t be anything other than a human. I stopped her and told her that whatever that thing was clearly wasn’t human. I mean, that scream followed by that unnatural voice? Something was outside wanting in. She just looked at me with this face as she realized what I meant by it. “Oh please do hurry up dears, it’s awfully cold out here.” It was the same voice and my girlfriend immediately recognized it. “That’s my grandmother,” she told me, “But… she died years ago!” We both started to panic when whatever it was started banging on the front door to the house. It was loud enough that it seemed to be coming from the bedroom door, let alone the other side of the building. Then another ear piercing scream shot through the house followed by more pounding on the outer walls and doors. We started to panic as we didn’t know what to do. I thought about calling the police, but realized there wasn’t any reception this far out and there weren’t any landlines installed either. Running to the car wasn’t an option – we still didn’t know what that thing was and I didn’t want to find out if we could outrun it. Then we heard a window smash in one of the rooms below followed by yet another blood-curdling scream. It was inside! I don’t know why I did this, but I forced my girlfriend to hide under the bed before running out of the room and down the stairs. Sure enough, one of the kitchen windows had been smashed in as if someone or something was attempting to get through it. Below the smashed window was some table salt that had spilled over. It had clearly tried to get in, but I couldn’t see it anywhere. It was only then did I see it outside the window, looking back at me. It was tall enough that it had to bend down to look through the window back at me, where it looked at me with the eyes that glowed a deep red. It smiled at me, showing its razor sharp teeth, before speaking, “oh dearie me, I seemed to have made a mess. Be a dear and let me in so I can clean it up for you.” I just froze in that spot, scared out of my mind at this thing I was staring at. I just stood there as it tried to make another attempt at climbing through the window, but stopped as it noticed the spilled salt blocking its way. I don’t really know why, but something in me put two and two together and I ran towards it, grabbed the container of salt and started throwing salt at the monster in front of me. It screamed as the salt hit it and ran off into the darkness. Its screaming snapped me out of it and I immediately ran back upstairs to make sure my girlfriend was okay. We spent the rest of the night locked inside the bedroom, praying it would never come back. We still have the farm, but have never gone back. Neither of us want to talk about it, but I just can’t get that night out of my head. I am never going to forget what happened.

Story 2:

There was a story I heard years back when I was still a kid. For the record, I grew up in a small town in Ohio where weird shit like this tends to be the norm, though growing up no one really thought much of it. It started when a family who owned a ranch just outside of town suddenly sold the property and moved away, which itself was odd since there didn’t really seem to be any reason for the sudden change. The new owners moved in and about a week later disappeared without a trace, leaving the property abandoned. This all happened when I was too young to actually remember any of it, though obviously everybody knew about the property and the rumours of Skinwalkers driving the old owners out on top of being the cause of the new owners disappearing. No one actually believed it until a few years ago, when a bunch of high school kids decided to stay the night at the property. Apparently, they thought it a good idea to stay in the barn, despite or perhaps because of all the more recent rumours of people going missing on or near the property. They didn’t disappear… at first. They returned to school over the next few days, but acted weird. It was like they weren’t even the same people. A few kids disappeared before this specific group decided they wanted to return to the property. They never came back. These being high school kids, a search and rescue op was sent out to look for them. The weird thing was, many of those sent out to look for them thought they could hear them or see them for brief moments whenever they searched in or near the property. They eventually did find all the kids that went missing, but unfortunately they had all been killed in what looked like a wild animal attack. To this day it’s widely regarded as a confirmed Skinwalker attack by most everyone, myself included. I mean, it sue as hell fits with the legends surrounding the Skinwalkers.

Skinwalker Stories #29

Note from editor: The stories below contain the names of individuals. For the sake of privacy and anonymity, names have been changed or omitted.

Story 1:

I learnt a long time ago that Skinwalkers are not something to be trifled with. Quite the opposite in fact. They are terrifying and dangerous. My encounter happened in Oklahoma a few years back. I was working for this construction crew and we’d been hired to do some work on this cabin some rich dick wanted renovating. Simple enough work in that it was just some new inner walls new insulation, a new roof and some solar panels for off grid power. Other than being in the middle of literal nowhere, it wasn’t difficult work. It was two weeks work and solid pay, so it wasn’t much of an issue with us. That came on the third day of work. One of the guys on the crew, Jamie, was already there. That was odd on its own since he was always late, but what made it even odder was the way he was acting throughout the day. Then he just upped and disappeared around lunch time. Again, that itself was odd since he normally worked through lunch so we didn’t expect him to just disappear. Me and another one from the crew, Barry, went off to find him while the rest got on with the work. We went to the trucks but couldn’t find him and we were about to make our way back to the shed when Barry pointed something out. There was a trail of blood leading from the trucks into the forest. Obviously, we thought something happened to Jamie and followed the trail. It didn’t take us long to find out what happened to him. We found his body. From the looks of it, he had been there all night. Barry almost threw up at the smell of the body. I was about to tell him to run back and get the others when I heard Jake call out to us. But… he was laying dead in front of us. Then Barry screamed and I saw why. Standing in front of us was some twisted version of Jamie. It… didn’t look right or natural. It had his face, but it was all pasty and and flaking off. There were horns on his… its head and it had this open smile that showed fangs rather than normal human teeth. It was horrifying. It just stood there, staring at us while drooling. Neither of us are scared easily, but7 both me and Barry started running the moment it started walking towards us. Not fifteen minutes we returned with the rest of the crew and a few guns we kept in the trucks. That fucking thing was still there, eating Jamie! I was carrying one of the guns as was our boss. We both fired a few rounds at it, but it didn’t even notice them! Then the chief said something I couldn’t quite make out before firing another shot. It was hit and went down before getting up, howling/screaming at us before running away on all fours. It was still wearing his face through all of this. Jamie had been torn to shreds and his death was eventually ruled as an animal attack, but to this day I wouldn’t consider whatever that thing was an animal. I’d later ask the chief what he said before taking the shot, but he would refuse to ever talk about it. We managed to complete the renovations without any more issues, but I later found out that the guy who owned it went missing during a stay at the cabin. I never want to see that thing again.

Story 2:

I’ve always enjoyed camping in places where people ought not to go. Caves no one but me can get to, cliffs considered too dangerous by other experienced climbers and I even spent a night on top of Mount Everest. To say I make sometimes undeniably stupid decisions is an understatement. But this one time really had me fucked. There’s this bit of land in Arizona that is said to have belonged to some Native American tribe some time ago. It’s really barren, but there is this old house on there that seems to have been abandoned for decades if not longer. I’d long planned to stay there for a bit, and since the pandemic has kept everyone indoors I thought this would be the perfect opportunity to spend a week there. August comes round and I make my way to that old house. I enter through the front door and see it. There’s a coyote just inside. Great. I didn’t know there were coyotes in the area. I slowly back out and away from it, right up until it stood on it’s hind legs. This fucking coyote stood up onto its hind legs! Then it talked. “I’ve been waiting for you Julie. Why don’t you come on in.” I screamed and started running. I got maybe 200 yards away from the house before tripping over. I looked behind me and saw it leaving the house. It didn’t look like a coyote anymore. This is hard to explain, but it looked as if it were turning into me. I didn’t stay to get a good look as I got up and ran the one and a half miles back to my car (I’d hiked to the house). I managed to get away and never saw it again. But then again, I’m never going back to that house again either.