Anonymous #1 13h

February 9th 2003, I went on an expedition, I’ve always wanted to do the Appalachian trail but never done so. I plan, gear up and I head out on a new adventure. Things went well until about 22 miles up the trail. I see this thing, I don’t know what it was. It screamed and it was the most horrific sound I’ve ever experienced. A human I thought but its face was not right, it was hairy and tall and its eyes were look moons. It was watching me but I didn’t know what to do, there were more, behind me

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Anonymous OP 13h

I ran off the trail even though that is never supposed to be done, they were gone and I felt alone. I don’t know what the hell those were and I knew I needed to turn back, I will not be setting up camp tonight and I knew it was the right move. I head back up to the trail but it was gone, I’ve only walked a few hundred feet but it was gone. I used my compass but all it would do was point north, no matter what direction I stood. I felt hopeless, I never felt real fear until now, almost trapped

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Anonymous OP 13h

Still beyond belief that you could take 20 years to make it back to the trail if you were being chased by a wendigo. Surviving 20 years in the woods with a wendigo sounds like a significantly larger challenge than escaping back down a known trail

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Anonymous OP 13h

The only thing I could do was keep walking, I didn’t know what to do in this situation so I only did what I could. The woods looks unfamiliar, no matter how far I walked there was no incline, silence not even a sound of wind nor bird. I was scared and all I could do is keep walking, so I did. 1 hour turned to 2, 2 to 4, then night started to come and I was afraid. Do I set up camp or keep walking? Do I sleep what do I do? I flipped a coin in my pocket, a quarter with the Oregon stamp

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Anonymous OP 13h

Go kill the wendigo

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Anonymous OP 13h

Bring your car up the trail and run it over

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Anonymous OP 13h

It probably tastes like turducken

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Anonymous OP 13h

Heads I walk, tails I stay, I flipped and closed my eyes. Tails…. Fucking tails. I listen to fate and set up my camp, I set only a tent and no fire. I feared that if something knew I was there the fire would only make it worse. I didn’t want to sleep, I didn’t eat and had little water. So I sat guard, and didn’t even go in my tent. All night silence, I listened for a bird or so help me a coyote or even a bear, nothing.

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Anonymous OP 13h

alright now you might have strayed too far time to find a big rock and fight this wendigo with your hands

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Anonymous OP 13h

At this point though its mostly your fault for just completely ignoring flight/fight instincts

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Anonymous OP 13h

Then I smoked an ounce of crack, pulled out my shotgun and headed out on an expedition. I wrote on the trees signs and marks I could use to travel and hunt, bitch ass wendigos fuck ass mountain beasts, yea I ain’t give a shit I say “come fuck with the beast hoe” first one i ever fought drew out its fangs and slashed my eye out. I fought for 20 years and fucked all them monsters up, smoked crack and found the portal back home, then I stole ya girl we got married and lived happily ever after.

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Anonymous OP 13h

Then Trump went to war with Iran

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Anonymous OP 13h

If I were in that situation I wouldn't have run off the trail in the first place no wonder you got lost. Thats what they have stand your ground laws for

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Anonymous OP 13h

This is America I'll be damned if some witch shapeshifter creature tells me where and where not to walk

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Anonymous #1 13h

If you were in that situation you wouldn’t have had any fine ass crack rock either, therefore cannot and will never be ready to fight beasts of horror and would just be a fortress that lasts as long as you could fighting whatever the moon eye mfs were, while I, the king of the thin Forrest would have made all them beasts my bitches then went home one day after I got bored

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Anonymous OP 13h

Yep I would have had my trusty meth pipe and wouldn't have to stop every 5 minutes to smoke crack

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Anonymous OP 13h

You must not be serious?? Doping up on meth in nature setting? You don’t smoke meth outside that is foolish, you tip off on meth after lighting a spoon of H, you do that inside so the rain doesn’t fall on you and bash your high all up. This is common knowledge. Crack is for people of nature and wise men, why do you think the three wisemen carried crack, cocaine and a bomb ass rig that had like 3 or 4 chambers what purified the smoke and made a nice and clean high, none that preservative meth shi

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Anonymous OP 13h

We are on different rocks

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