I love hunting wild boar. They are a big problem in many parts of the United States. A single sow can have two litters a year, often with ten or more piglets each time. These animals eat everything, causing a lot of damage.

Because of this, my state allows hunting them with very few rules, even at night with special scopes. I had saved up for a year to buy a thermal vision scope. It cost twice as much as my rifle, but I knew it would be worth it for night hunting.

Getting Ready for the Hunt

I took my new scope to the range and got it sighted in perfectly. I knew just the spot for a night hunt. It was an area known for lots of boar activity, easy to reach by truck, with good viewpoints overlooking a large, open clearing.

My night started quietly. I played with my new scope, checking all the settings. I saw a few deer, but they were out of season. Plus, my current setup was not legal for deer. I decided to move to a new spot, hoping for better luck and a fresh view.

The Silent

Woods and a Strange Shape

After an hour or so of looking around, something struck me. This area felt dead. No rabbits, no owls, and the deer I had seen were far away. Why was this pocket of land so quiet at night, but busy during the day?

It was about 2 AM, and I had been set up since 10 PM. I was thinking about packing up when I heard a crunch. It came from the direction I had walked in from. I aimed my scope and saw a shape pushing through the bushes. I thought it was a small bear.

A Man,

Not a Bear

I adjusted my scope and zoomed in. I jumped a little when I realized it wasn't a bear at all. It was a man. He was low to the ground and hunched over, which is why I first thought he was a young bear. I wondered if he was a game warden, but there were no headlights, and I was miles from anywhere.

Then I noticed something even stranger. He was naked. No shoes, no clothes. His movements were disturbing, like a squirrel or some wild animal. He twitched, grabbed at plants, sniffed the air, and even touched the tree I had been leaning against earlier. The thought that he might have smelled me was terrifying.

The Haunting Call

He did something next that still gives me nightmares. He squatted, putting his hands in the dirt between his feet, and looked straight up, like a dog about to howl. Then, I heard a voice. A compelling female voice called out, "Help! I'm lost!"

There was a long pause. Neither of us moved. My scope was aimed at the dirt in front of his feet. I could not bring myself to aim directly at a person. Was he lost? Was this some crazy person out here? Why did his voice sound so feminine? The voice called out again, "Help! Please! I can't walk!"

Realizing the Trap

That's when I knew it was a lie. He could definitely walk. When I first saw him, he was moving easily, so well that I mistook him for an animal. This was a trap. This person was trying to lure me closer with a fake cry for help.

Luckily, the quiet night had led me to pack most of my gear already. I think I might have left a hat and a sitting pad behind, but I did not care at that moment. I quickly put on my pack. As I buckled my chest strap and grabbed my rifle, I looked back.

To my horror, he was in the same position, but his face was turned toward me. I swear I saw a smile. The thermal scope makes eyes appear white, and his were fixed on me. How could he have heard me get up and put my gear on? He was easily 150 yards away.

The

Standoff and the Escape

"Fuck off!" I screamed in his direction. He stood up straight. He was tall and skinny, easily six feet, and very lean. He took a couple of long strides toward me. Instinctively, I fired a round above his head into the treeline. He was freaky, but he hadn't truly threatened me. What would I tell the police?

He stopped moving and hunched down on all fours again. "The next one will hurt you! Go away!" I warned him. This time, my sights were on the center of his body. His eyes were just above the grass, like a large cat. My hands were trembling, and my voice had cracked. I was terrified.

That standoff felt like forever, but it was probably only a minute or two. Suddenly, he bolted left, toward the treeline on the opposite side of the road. So much for not being able to walk. He moved so fast I could barely keep him in my scope. He vanished into the brush, and I sent another bullet high in his direction.

Lingering

Questions and Ancient Tales

I racked another round, fumbling with a fresh magazine. I dropped it but did not bother looking for it. I was close to my truck and just wanted to leave. I could hear him in the distance, making a strange sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a cry. I scrambled up the trail and reached my truck out of breath.

I threw my gear into the cab, keeping the rifle on the passenger seat, and sped off. For a long time, I told this story as if I had seen some deranged person living wild in the woods. I reported it to Fish and Game, but they only scolded me for hunting alone at night. I never heard any updates.

It wasn't until I shared this story on a camping trip that my nephew told me about wendigos, rakes, and skinwalkers. My story scared him so much that his mom, my cousin, had to take him home. She was very upset. The unsettling part was that our campsite was in the same forest, just 50 miles east of where I had my encounter.

I have since looked into these scary stories. I am not saying what I saw was definitely a wendigo or a skinwalker. But if such things exist, I might have avoided something truly awful that night. Or maybe it was just a strange person acting wild in the middle of nowhere. Either way, it was an experience I will never forget.