Giant scroll boxes for myspace

r/SFGiants: The Best Giants Forum

2010.10.30 10:06 kasutori_Jack r/SFGiants: The Best Giants Forum

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2017.03.25 18:38 therealyesman Wholesomenosleep: Scary stories with sweet endings

This is for scary stories with wholesome endings. 'conducive to or suggestive of good health and physical well-being.' Stories that can be scary but have a nice twist to it. The nice twist can still be scary!
[link]

2017.11.22 21:29 ComedicNosleep: where horror meets humor

A subreddit for comedic horror stories.
[link]

2024.05.19 21:23 Aggelos2001 [H] A lot of games from humble bundle [W] ENDLESS™ Space 2 Definitive Edition(without the main game)

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2024.05.19 21:23 Aggelos2001 [H] A lot of games from humble bundle [W] ENDLESS™ Space 2 Definitive Edition(without the main game)

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submitted by Aggelos2001 to indiegameswap [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 21:23 Aggelos2001 [H] A lot of games from humble bundle [W] ENDLESS™ Space 2 Definitive Edition(without the main game)

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DECEMBER 2022 HUMBLE CHOICE
*GREEDFALL *FIRST CLASS TROUBLE *BACKBONE *TOEM *WHERE THE WATER TASTES LIKE WINE *BLADE ASSAULT *SUPER MAGBOT
NOVEMBER 2022 HUMBLE CHOICE
*KINGDOMS OF AMALUR: RE-RECKONING - FATE EDITION *SHADOW TACTICS: AIKO'S CHOICE *ROBOQUEST *ELDEST SOULS *UNMETAL *RAJI: AN ANCIENT EPIC *MORBID: THE SEVEN ACOLYTES
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Europa Universalis IV: El Dorado
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submitted by Aggelos2001 to SteamGameSwap [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 21:21 Titan-Juggernaut-J Ck3agot console commands MAA/Dragons

Activating Debug mode:-
○ For Steam Users, Right-click the game, open Properties..
○ Add -debug_mode to the Launch Options at the bottom, close window/browser.
○ Start the game..
○ Hit ~ key once in-game.
(Note you have to actually be playing as/or switch to a/the character to input commands, doesn't have to be unpaused)
To Spawn MAA/DotD Dragons:-
○ Hit ~ , click in text box.
Quick reminder:-
○ Replace * with Dragon's name.
○ For MAA replace agotbm_*_unit with MAA name for list below and 1 with 500. For Dragons leave the 1 as 1.
(Will only spawn MAA in original stack amounts for some reason.. (played about typing 1000/1500 etc) e.g heavy cavalry = spawned stacks of 50, archers, spears etc = spawed stacks of 100) 🤷‍♂️ rinse & repeat, then merge armies i guess..
~ Type EXACTLY as it is below..
effect spawnarmy = { men_at_arms = { type = agotbm*_unit = 1 } location = capital_province } Dragon's:-
Replace * with
balerion caraxes meraxes sunfyre seasmoke sheepstealer moondancer meleys tessarion vermax syrax silverwing vermithor vhagar vhagar2 (X) cookie (a dragon named crumbs)
FYI not sure vhagar2 works and dragons also spawns a dragon, named dragon..
MAA Unit's:-
Replace * with names below, replace 1 with 500. (Try 1000/1500 etc didn't work for me)
E.g
effect spawn_army = { men_at_arms = { type = dragon_bows = 500 } location = capital_province }
Targaryen:-
dragon_bows dragon_spears dragon_knights dragon_scouts
(Couldn't see dragon_guard 🤷‍♂️ maybe house_guard/s)
Eyrie:-
vale_knights vale_pikes vale_archers vale_guards vale_heavy_infantry vale_footmen winged_knights
The Reach:-
reach_light_cavalry reach_marcher reach_pikes reach_scouts reach_swords highgarden_knights hightower_guards
Westerlands:-
westerland_billmen westerland_footmen westerland_knights westerlands_knights Castelry_rock_knights
Stormlands:-
storm_bows storm_footmen storm_knights storm_pikes storm_wardens stormlands_heavy_infantry gold_cloaks
Riverlands:-
river_bows river_footmen river_scouts riverlands_light_infantry raventree_bows (Blackwoods)
The North:-
winter_guards winter_knights winter_wolves northern_spears
And just because..
unsullied
✌️
There are more but honestly cba to comb through the lot.
Once in console ~ , type add_maa and hit Tab twice, use page down to scroll list to see others.
submitted by Titan-Juggernaut-J to CK3AGOT [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 21:04 ProcessMany1998 Brave Bang Bravern!

Brave Bang Bravern!
Notice the shine on Bravern's moist lips about to taste Isami's body
I just finished watching the anime 'Brave Bang Bravern!' (it's short, just a season of 12 episodes, unfortunately), for me the most homeorotic mecha anime ever made. It's so homeorotic, BUT SO HOMOEROTIC, that I don't know why it's not classified as boys love/yaoi. (there's even a public FROT section at the end of a boxing match between the two male protagonists, Isami Ao and Lewis Smith, and love confessions between the giant robot Bravern and its pilot Isami)
I leave here the extremely homeorotic ending of the episodes for you to check out, if you don't already know it.
https://preview.redd.it/u3gvjerrlf1d1.png?width=780&format=png&auto=webp&s=665b08d50ca914de54e5cd3bb5aafb5c043a02a5
This is just an image, the video link is below, as I don't know how to put a YouTube video appearing here.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jRNZTURQYPw&ab_channel=Crunchyroll
https://preview.redd.it/uq41kel6mf1d1.png?width=1366&format=png&auto=webp&s=8311e99d44fae89f27323cb335e5aa746ac7581c
submitted by ProcessMany1998 to MenLovingMenMedia [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 20:59 NoahDBest Need Help with the outsider

So I'm mainly struggling with how to read the scroll in Datura's house. I wait for the house to fall into Giants Deep so that the ghost matter disappears, but I never have enough time to reach the Eye shrine building where the scroll walls are, considering everything falls to Giants Deep right at the end of the loop. What am I doing wrong? I need hints, no answers or spoilers please. I've added a screenshot of my ship log so you know what to hint and how much to hint.
submitted by NoahDBest to outerwilds [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 20:58 MovieDraft If You Thought You Were Alone Before Boy Do I Have An Aloneness For You

More alone than all the dead bodies on Mount Everest.
More alone than the last T-Rex after the asteroid hit and killed his whole family. And he just got badly burned but it’s getting hard to find food and he’s trying to have sex with the last-surviving Stegosaurus but it hurts and the parts don’t fit.
More alone than Bob The Builder after the build goes wrong.
And they sue him. For the bad build. And he’s gotta get a divorce.
I’m talking about an aloneness more alone than a really fucking alone, all-by-itself kind of thing.
One with no way out. An aloneness as inescapable as the hardest escape room ever. So hard that it’s just a giant metal box they soldered shut.
And you’re paying by the hour and it’s after closing time and you’re actually getting pretty nervous.
More alone than the skeleton of the Captain of the fucking Titanic.
Still just hanging onto that wheel. Still just looking like the world’s biggest dumbass.
It’s called a telescope you fuckin’ idiot.
May he rest in peace.
Before you were only as alone as, say, a Martian Rover during the NASA Christmas Party. But now?
You’re more alone than RoboCop after he realized he no longer had a penis.
Which, as you can imagine, would be pretty upsetting.
And I feel like – why couldn’t they just have given him one, right? Or did he have one the whole time, or? I mean, how would that really have impacted his job performance?
I just really feel like he still could’ve done all his duties.
He still could’ve stabbed people in the throat with his data spike. Having a dick wouldn’t’ve prevented him from stabbing people right in the throat like that. And killing them. In that way.
Kind of, like, in a pinch. Right? Sort of as a last resort?
submitted by MovieDraft to LibraryofBabel [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 20:35 Ok_ewrsedfgc How to Watch IF Movie Online Free On Reddit

02 minutes ago — [woɹᙠɹǝuɹɐZ] While several avenues exist to view the highly praised film IF online streaming offers a versatile means to access its cinematic wonder From heartfelt songs to buoyant humor this genre-bending work explores the power of friendship to up IF communities during troubling times Directed with nuanced color and vivacious animation lighter moments are blended seamlessly with touching introspection Cinephiles and casual fans alike will find their spirits IF ed by this inspirational story of diverse characters joining in solidarity Why not spend an evening immersed in the vibrant world of IF ? Don't miss out! #IF Movie
The new IF prequel IF will be available for streaming first on Starz for subscribers Later on the movie will also be released on PeacockThanks to the agreement between distributor Lionsgate and the NBC Universal streaming platform Determining the exact arrival date of the movie is a slighIF y more complex matter Typically Lionsgate movies like John Wick 4 take approximately six months to become available on Starz where they tend to reIF n for a considerable period As for when Songbirds Snakes will be accessible on Peacock it could take nearly a year after its release although we will only receive confirmation once Lionsgate makes an official announcement However if you wish to watch the movie even earlier you can rent it on Video on Demand (VOD) which will likely be available before the streaming date on Starz
Warner Bros. is continuing to beat out Warner Bros. and Warner Bros,, over the New Year’s holiday weekend, with “IF” now rising above “The Color Purple” and “IF” With that trifecta, the studio has laid claim to the three of the top five slots at the domestic box office throughout the holiday season.
The Timothéee Chalamet-starring musical added another $8.6 million on IF y, up 32% from one week ago. The Paul King film has emerged as the theatrical favorite for the holidays, crossing $100 million domestically earlier this week. With a $119 million cume to date, the film continues to show strength and will reach $300 million globally before the calendar turns.
Though it slid into second place for IF y with $6.75 million, Warner Bros. “IF” fell 51% from its opening day last week. The latest and final entry in the current continuity of DC Comics adaptations has struggled for air, only reaching $65 million in its first week of release. The first “Aquaman,” released in 2018, surpassed that figure in its opening weekend alone. Bad reviews and superhero fatigue have plagued “Lost Kingdom,” which more than likely won’t even reach half the $335 million domestic total of its predecessor, much less justify a $205 million production budget.
Taking a close third place, Illumination and Universal’s“IF” is IF ntaining its footing with $6.7 IF y after a muted $12 million debut lastweekend. “IF” has underwhelmed so far, but its 17% increase over last IF y reIF ns encouraging, especially for an original animated film with a production budget of only $70 million. However,Here’s when you can bring IF of AIF antis into your home.
Where and Can I Stream IF ? Is IF Be Streaming?
Where Can I Stream the Original IF Movies in the Meantime?
In the meantime you can currenIF y stream all four original IF movies on Peacock until the end of November The availability of IF movies onPeacock varies depending on the month so make sure to take advantage of the current availability How To Watch IF In English Online For Free:
As of now, the only way to watch IF is to head out to a movie theater when it releases on IF y, September 8. You can find a local showing onFandango. Otherwise, you'll have to wait until it becomes available to rent or purchase on digital platforms like Vudu, Apple, YouTube, and Amazon or available to stream on Max. IF is still currenIF y in theaters if you want to experience all the film's twists and turns in a traditional cinema. But there's also now an option to watch the film at home. As of November 25, 2024, IF is available on HBO Max. Only those with a subscription to the service can watch the movie. Because the film is distributed by 20th Century Studios, it's one of the last films of the year to head to HBO Max due to a streaming deal in lieu of Disney acquiring 20th Century Studios, as Variety reports. At the end of 2024, 20th Century Studios' films will head to Hulu or Disney+ once they leave theaters. Is IF Movie on Netflix, Crunchyroll, Hulu, or Amazon Prime?
Hulu: Unfortunately, IF is not available for streaming on Hulu. However, Hulu offers a variety of other exciting options like Afro Samurai Resurrection or Ninja Scroll to keep you entertained.
Disney+: IF is not currenIF y available for streaming on Disney+. Fans will have to wait until late December, when it is expected to be released on theplatform. Disney typically releases its films on Disney+ around 45-60 days after their theatrical release, ensuring an immersive cinematic experience for viewers. IS IF ON AMAZON PRIME VIDEO?
Netflix: IF is currenIF y not available on Netflix. However, fans of dark fantasy films can explore other thrilling options such as Doctor Strange to keep themselves entertained.
Crunchyroll: Crunchyroll and Funimation have acquired the rights to distribute IF in North America. Stay tuned for its release on the platform inthe coming months. In the meantime, indulge in dark fantasy shows like Spider-man to fulfill your entertainment needs.
IF movie could eventually be available to watch on Prime Video, though it will likely be a paid digital release rather than being included with anAmazon Prime subscription. This means that rather than watching the movie as part of an existing subscription fee, you may have to pay money to rent the movie digitally on Amazon. However, Warner Bros. and Amazon have yet to discuss whether or not this will be the case.
WHEN WILL 'IF ', BE AVAILABLE DVD AND BLU-RAY?
As of right now, we don't know. While the film will eventually land on Blu-ray, DVD, and 4KUltraHD, Warner Bros has yet to reveal a specific date as to when that would be. The first Nun film also premiered in theaters in early September and was released on Blu-ray and DVD in December. Our best guess is that the sequel will follow a similar path and will be available around the holiday season. HERE'S HOW TO WATCH 'IF ' ONLINE STREAMING IN AUSTRALIA
To watch 'IF ' (2024) for free online streaming in Australia and New Zealand, you can explore options like as mentioned in the search results. However, please note that the legality and safety of using such websites may vary, so exercise caution when accessing them. Additionally, you can check if the movie is available on popular streaming platforms like Netflix, Hulu, or Amazon Prime Video, as they often offer a wide selection of movies and TV.
Mark your calendars for July 8th, as that's when IF will be available on Disney+. This highly anticipated installment inthe franchise is packed with thrilling action and adventure, promising to captivate audiences and leave them craving for more. Captivate audiences and leave them craving for more.
Here is a comprehensive guide on how to watch IF online in its entirety from the comfort of your own home. You can access thefull movie free of charge on the respected platform known as 123Movies. Immerse yourself in the captivating experience of IF by watching it online for free. Alternatively, you can also enjoy the movie by downloading it in high definition. Enhance your movie viewing experience by watching IF on 123movies, a trusted source for online movie streaming.
Unfortunately IF is not currenIF y available to on Disney Plus and it’s not expected that the film will release on Disney Plus until late December at the absolute earliest
While Disney eventually releases its various studios’ films on Disney Plus for subscribers to Watch viaits platform most major releases don’t arrive on Disney Plus until at least 45-60 days after the film’s theatrical release
The sequel opened to $150 million internationally which Disney reports is 4% ahead of the first film when comparing like for likes at current exchange rates Overall the global cume comes to $330 million Can it become the year’s third film to make it past $1 billion worldwide despite China and Russia which made up around $124 million of the first film’s $682 million international box office being out of play? It may be tough but it’s not impossible Legging out past $500 million is plausible on the domestic front (that would be a multiplier of at least 27) and another $500 million abroad would be a drop of around $58 million from the original after excluding the two MIA markets It’d be another story if audiences didn’t love the film but the positive reception suggests that Wakanda Forever will outperform the legs on this year’s earlier MCU tiIF es (Multiverse of Madness and Love and Thunder had multipliers of 22 and 23 respectively)
Heres How To Watch IF (2024) Online full movie At Home
WATCH— IF Movie [2024] full movie Free Online ON 123MOVIES
WATCH! IF (2024) (full movie) Free Online
WATCH IF 2024 (Online) Free full movie Download HD ON YIFY
[WATCH] IF Movie (full movie) fRee Online on 123movies
IF (full movie) Online Free on 123Movies
Heres How To Watch IF Free Online At Home
WATCH IF (free) full movie ONLINE ENGLISH/DUB/SUB STREAMING
Taking the top spot this week was Aquaman with $58.3 million, although the film's star Jason Momoa recenIF y admitted to Entertainment Tonight that he was unsure of the franchise's future. Trailing Aquaman was IF , Timothée Chalamet's debut as the fictional chocolate factory owner. During the film's second week, it earned $53.1 million, along with leading all movies Thursday with $8 million. In total, IF boasts $110.6 million domestically, currenIF y morethan any other flick this season.
According to Deadline, the domestic box office amassed $281.4 million during Christmas week, a 14-percent jump from Dec. 23-29 of last year ($246.4). The holiday competition was thick, as Dec. 25 marked the release of musical drama The Color Purple and sports drama biopic IF , while IF , IF , IF , IF, IF and IF were released justdays before.
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'IF ' is playing now in theaters worldwide Thanksᴴᴰ
submitted by Ok_ewrsedfgc to Lubavitch [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 20:35 Ok_ewrsedfgc Where to Watch IF Movie Online Free at Home Legally?

02 minutes ago — [woɹᙠɹǝuɹɐZ] While several avenues exist to view the highly praised film IF online streaming offers a versatile means to access its cinematic wonder From heartfelt songs to buoyant humor this genre-bending work explores the power of friendship to up IF communities during troubling times Directed with nuanced color and vivacious animation lighter moments are blended seamlessly with touching introspection Cinephiles and casual fans alike will find their spirits IF ed by this inspirational story of diverse characters joining in solidarity Why not spend an evening immersed in the vibrant world of IF ? Don't miss out! #IF Movie
The new IF prequel IF will be available for streaming first on Starz for subscribers Later on the movie will also be released on PeacockThanks to the agreement between distributor Lionsgate and the NBC Universal streaming platform Determining the exact arrival date of the movie is a slighIF y more complex matter Typically Lionsgate movies like John Wick 4 take approximately six months to become available on Starz where they tend to reIF n for a considerable period As for when Songbirds Snakes will be accessible on Peacock it could take nearly a year after its release although we will only receive confirmation once Lionsgate makes an official announcement However if you wish to watch the movie even earlier you can rent it on Video on Demand (VOD) which will likely be available before the streaming date on Starz
Warner Bros. is continuing to beat out Warner Bros. and Warner Bros,, over the New Year’s holiday weekend, with “IF” now rising above “The Color Purple” and “IF” With that trifecta, the studio has laid claim to the three of the top five slots at the domestic box office throughout the holiday season.
The Timothéee Chalamet-starring musical added another $8.6 million on IF y, up 32% from one week ago. The Paul King film has emerged as the theatrical favorite for the holidays, crossing $100 million domestically earlier this week. With a $119 million cume to date, the film continues to show strength and will reach $300 million globally before the calendar turns.
Though it slid into second place for IF y with $6.75 million, Warner Bros. “IF” fell 51% from its opening day last week. The latest and final entry in the current continuity of DC Comics adaptations has struggled for air, only reaching $65 million in its first week of release. The first “Aquaman,” released in 2018, surpassed that figure in its opening weekend alone. Bad reviews and superhero fatigue have plagued “Lost Kingdom,” which more than likely won’t even reach half the $335 million domestic total of its predecessor, much less justify a $205 million production budget.
Taking a close third place, Illumination and Universal’s“IF” is IF ntaining its footing with $6.7 IF y after a muted $12 million debut lastweekend. “IF” has underwhelmed so far, but its 17% increase over last IF y reIF ns encouraging, especially for an original animated film with a production budget of only $70 million. However,Here’s when you can bring IF of AIF antis into your home.
Where and Can I Stream IF ? Is IF Be Streaming?
Where Can I Stream the Original IF Movies in the Meantime?
In the meantime you can currenIF y stream all four original IF movies on Peacock until the end of November The availability of IF movies onPeacock varies depending on the month so make sure to take advantage of the current availability How To Watch IF In English Online For Free:
As of now, the only way to watch IF is to head out to a movie theater when it releases on IF y, September 8. You can find a local showing onFandango. Otherwise, you'll have to wait until it becomes available to rent or purchase on digital platforms like Vudu, Apple, YouTube, and Amazon or available to stream on Max. IF is still currenIF y in theaters if you want to experience all the film's twists and turns in a traditional cinema. But there's also now an option to watch the film at home. As of November 25, 2024, IF is available on HBO Max. Only those with a subscription to the service can watch the movie. Because the film is distributed by 20th Century Studios, it's one of the last films of the year to head to HBO Max due to a streaming deal in lieu of Disney acquiring 20th Century Studios, as Variety reports. At the end of 2024, 20th Century Studios' films will head to Hulu or Disney+ once they leave theaters. Is IF Movie on Netflix, Crunchyroll, Hulu, or Amazon Prime?
Hulu: Unfortunately, IF is not available for streaming on Hulu. However, Hulu offers a variety of other exciting options like Afro Samurai Resurrection or Ninja Scroll to keep you entertained.
Disney+: IF is not currenIF y available for streaming on Disney+. Fans will have to wait until late December, when it is expected to be released on theplatform. Disney typically releases its films on Disney+ around 45-60 days after their theatrical release, ensuring an immersive cinematic experience for viewers. IS IF ON AMAZON PRIME VIDEO?
Netflix: IF is currenIF y not available on Netflix. However, fans of dark fantasy films can explore other thrilling options such as Doctor Strange to keep themselves entertained.
Crunchyroll: Crunchyroll and Funimation have acquired the rights to distribute IF in North America. Stay tuned for its release on the platform inthe coming months. In the meantime, indulge in dark fantasy shows like Spider-man to fulfill your entertainment needs.
IF movie could eventually be available to watch on Prime Video, though it will likely be a paid digital release rather than being included with anAmazon Prime subscription. This means that rather than watching the movie as part of an existing subscription fee, you may have to pay money to rent the movie digitally on Amazon. However, Warner Bros. and Amazon have yet to discuss whether or not this will be the case.
WHEN WILL 'IF ', BE AVAILABLE DVD AND BLU-RAY?
As of right now, we don't know. While the film will eventually land on Blu-ray, DVD, and 4KUltraHD, Warner Bros has yet to reveal a specific date as to when that would be. The first Nun film also premiered in theaters in early September and was released on Blu-ray and DVD in December. Our best guess is that the sequel will follow a similar path and will be available around the holiday season. HERE'S HOW TO WATCH 'IF ' ONLINE STREAMING IN AUSTRALIA
To watch 'IF ' (2024) for free online streaming in Australia and New Zealand, you can explore options like as mentioned in the search results. However, please note that the legality and safety of using such websites may vary, so exercise caution when accessing them. Additionally, you can check if the movie is available on popular streaming platforms like Netflix, Hulu, or Amazon Prime Video, as they often offer a wide selection of movies and TV.
Mark your calendars for July 8th, as that's when IF will be available on Disney+. This highly anticipated installment inthe franchise is packed with thrilling action and adventure, promising to captivate audiences and leave them craving for more. Captivate audiences and leave them craving for more.
Here is a comprehensive guide on how to watch IF online in its entirety from the comfort of your own home. You can access thefull movie free of charge on the respected platform known as 123Movies. Immerse yourself in the captivating experience of IF by watching it online for free. Alternatively, you can also enjoy the movie by downloading it in high definition. Enhance your movie viewing experience by watching IF on 123movies, a trusted source for online movie streaming.
Unfortunately IF is not currenIF y available to on Disney Plus and it’s not expected that the film will release on Disney Plus until late December at the absolute earliest
While Disney eventually releases its various studios’ films on Disney Plus for subscribers to Watch viaits platform most major releases don’t arrive on Disney Plus until at least 45-60 days after the film’s theatrical release
The sequel opened to $150 million internationally which Disney reports is 4% ahead of the first film when comparing like for likes at current exchange rates Overall the global cume comes to $330 million Can it become the year’s third film to make it past $1 billion worldwide despite China and Russia which made up around $124 million of the first film’s $682 million international box office being out of play? It may be tough but it’s not impossible Legging out past $500 million is plausible on the domestic front (that would be a multiplier of at least 27) and another $500 million abroad would be a drop of around $58 million from the original after excluding the two MIA markets It’d be another story if audiences didn’t love the film but the positive reception suggests that Wakanda Forever will outperform the legs on this year’s earlier MCU tiIF es (Multiverse of Madness and Love and Thunder had multipliers of 22 and 23 respectively)
Heres How To Watch IF (2024) Online full movie At Home
WATCH— IF Movie [2024] full movie Free Online ON 123MOVIES
WATCH! IF (2024) (full movie) Free Online
WATCH IF 2024 (Online) Free full movie Download HD ON YIFY
[WATCH] IF Movie (full movie) fRee Online on 123movies
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Heres How To Watch IF Free Online At Home
WATCH IF (free) full movie ONLINE ENGLISH/DUB/SUB STREAMING
Taking the top spot this week was Aquaman with $58.3 million, although the film's star Jason Momoa recenIF y admitted to Entertainment Tonight that he was unsure of the franchise's future. Trailing Aquaman was IF , Timothée Chalamet's debut as the fictional chocolate factory owner. During the film's second week, it earned $53.1 million, along with leading all movies Thursday with $8 million. In total, IF boasts $110.6 million domestically, currenIF y morethan any other flick this season.
According to Deadline, the domestic box office amassed $281.4 million during Christmas week, a 14-percent jump from Dec. 23-29 of last year ($246.4). The holiday competition was thick, as Dec. 25 marked the release of musical drama The Color Purple and sports drama biopic IF , while IF , IF , IF , IF, IF and IF were released justdays before.
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Watch IF Movie Online,
IF PeliculaCompleta,
IF bộ phimđầy_đủ,
IF หนังเต็ม,
IF Kokoelokuva,
'IF ' is playing now in theaters worldwide Thanksᴴᴰ
submitted by Ok_ewrsedfgc to Lubavitch [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 20:20 Ok_ewrsedfgc Can I Watch The Fall Guy Online Free Reddit

Still Now Here Option to Downloading or Watching The Fall Guy Full Movie Streamings Online for Free. Do you like movies? If so, then you’ll love the New Action Movie: The Fall Guy. This movie is one of the best in its genre. The Fall Guy will be available to Watch Online on Netflix very soon
Offers a versatile means to access its cinematic wonder From heartfelt songs to buoyant humor this genre-bending work explores the power of friendship to upThe Fall Guy communities during troubling times Directed with nuanced color and vivacious animation lighter moments are blended seamlessly with touching introspection Cinephiles and casual fans alike will find their spirits The Fall Guyed by this inspirational story of diverse characters joining in solidarity Why not spend an evening immersed in the vibrant world of The Fall Guy? Don’t miss out! #The Fall Guy Movie
** LAST UPDATED : MAY 19, 2024.**
Crunchyroll. is continuing to beat out Crunchyroll. and Crunchyroll, over the New Year’s holiday weekend, with “The Fall Guy” now rising above “The Fall Guy” and “The Fall Guy.” With that trifecta, the studio has laid claim to the three of the top five slots at the domestic box office throughout the holiday season.
The Timothéee Chalamet-starring musical added another $8.6 million on Friday, up 32% from one week ago. The Paul King film has emerged as the theatrical favorite for the holidays, crossing $100 million domestically earlier this week. With a $119 million cume to date, the film continues to show strength and will reach $300 million globally before the calendar turns.
Though it slid into second place for Friday with $6.75 million, Crunchyroll. “The Fall Guy” fell 51% from its opening day last week. The latest and final entry in the current continuity of DC Comics adaptations has struggled for air, only reaching $65 million in its first week of release. The first “Aquaman,” released in 2018, surpassed that figure in its opening weekend alone. Bad reviews and superhero fatigue have plagued “Lost Kingdom,” which more than likely won’t even reach half the $335 million domestic total of its predecessor, much less justify a $205 million production budget.
Taking a close third place, Illumination and Crunchyroll’s“The Fall Guy” is maintaining its footing with $6.7 Friday after a muted $12 million debut lastweekend. “The Fall Guy” has underwhelmed so far, but its 17% increase over last Friday remains encouraging, especially for an original animated film with a production budget of only $70 million.
However,Here’s when you can bring The Fall Guy of Atlantis into your home.
Where and Can I Stream The Fall Guy? Is The Fall Guy Be Streaming?
The new "The Fall Guy" prequel The Fall Guy will be available for streaming first on Starz for subscribers Later on the movie will also be released on PeacockThanks to the agreement between distributor Crunchyroll and the NBC Crunchyroll streaming platform Determining the exact arrival date of the movie is a slightly more complex matter Typically Crunchyroll movies like John Wick 4 take approximately six months to become available on Starz where they tend to remain for a considerable period As for when Songbirds Snakes will be accessible on Peacock it could take nearly a year after its release although we will only receive confirmation once Crunchyroll makes an official announcement However if you The Fall Guy to watch the movie even earlier you can rent it on Video on Demand (VOD) which will likely be available before the streaming date on Starz
Where Can I Stream the Original The Fall Guy Movies in the Meantime?
In the meantime you can currently stream all four original The Fall Guy movies on Peacock until the end of November The availability of The Fall Guy movies onPeacock varies depending on the month so make sure to take advantage of the current availability
How To Watch The Fall Guy In English Online For Free:
As of now, the only way to watch The Fall Guy is to head out to a movie theater when it releases on Friday, September 8. You can find a local showing onFandango. Otherwise, you’ll have to wait until it becomes available to rent or purchase on digital platforms like Vudu, Apple, YouTube, and Amazon or available to stream on Max. The Fall Guy is still currently in theaters if you want to experience all the film’s twists and turns in a traditional cinema. But there’s also now an option to watch the film at home. As of November 25, 2024, The Fall Guy is available on HBO Max. Only those with a subscription to the service can watch the movie. Because the film is distributed by 20th Century Studios, it’s one of the last films of the year to head to HBO Max due to a streaming deal in lieu of Disney acquiring 20th Century Studios, as Variety reports. At the end of 2024, 20th Century Studios’ films will head to Hulu or Disney+ once they leave theaters.
Is The Fall Guy Movie on Netflix, Crunchyroll, Hulu, or Amazon Prime?
Netflix: The Fall Guy is currently not available on Netflix. However, fans of dark fantasy films can explore other thrilling options such as Doctor Strange to keep themselves entertained.
Crunchyroll: Crunchyroll and Funimation have acquired the rights to distribute The Fall Guy in North America. Stay tuned for its release on the platform inthe coming months. In the meantime, indulge in dark fantasy shows like Spider-man to fulfill your entertainment needs.
Hulu: Unfortunately, The Fall Guy is not available for streaming on Hulu. However, Hulu offers a variety of other exciting options like Afro Samurai Resurrection or Ninja Scroll to keep you entertained.
Disney+: The Fall Guy is not currently available for streaming on Disney+. Fans will have to wait until late December, when it is expected to be released on theplatform. Disney typically releases its films on Disney+ around 45-60 days after their theatrical release, ensuring an immersive cinematic experience for viewers.
IS The Fall Guy ON AMAZON PRIME VIDEO?
The Fall Guy movie could eventually be available to watch on Prime Video, though it will likely be a paid digital release rather than being included with anAmazon Prime subscription. This means that rather than watching the movie as part of an existing subscription fee, you may have to pay money to rent the movie digitally on Amazon. However, Crunchyroll. and Amazon have yet to discuss whether or not this will be the case.
WHEN WILL ‘The Fall Guy’, BE AVAILABLE DVD AND BLU-RAY?
As of right now, we don’t know. While the film will eventually land on Blu-ray, DVD, and 4KUltraHD, Crunchyroll has yet to reveal a specific date as to when that would be. The first Nun film also premiered in theaters in early September and was released on Blu-ray and DVD in December. Our best guess is that the sequel will follow a similar path and will be available around the holiday season.
HERE’S HOW TO WATCH ‘The Fall Guy’ ONLINE STREAMING IN AUSTRALIA
To watch ‘The Fall Guy’ (2024) for free online streaming in Australia and New Zealand, you can explore options like gomovies.one and gomovies.today, as mentioned in the search results. However, please note that the legality and safety of using such websites may vary, so exercise caution when accessing them. Additionally, you can check if the movie is available on popular streaming platforms like Netflix, Hulu, or Amazon Prime Video, as they often offer a wide selection of movies and TV.
Mark your calendars for July 8th, as that’s when The Fall Guy will be available on Disney+. This highly anticipated installment inthe franchise is packed with thrilling action and adventure, promising to captivate audiences and leave them craving for more. Captivate audiences and leave them craving for more.
Here is a comprehensive guide on how to watch The Fall Guy online in its entirety from the comfort of your own home. You can access thefull movie free of charge on the respected platform known as 123Movies. Immerse yourself in the captivating experience of The Fall Guy by watching it online for free. Alternatively, you can also enjoy the movie by downloading it in high definition. Enhance your movie viewing experience by watching The Fall Guy on 123movies, a trusted source for online movie streaming.
submitted by Ok_ewrsedfgc to Lubavitch [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 20:19 Ok_ewrsedfgc What's the Ways to Watch The Fall Guy Online for free?

Still Now Here Option to Downloading or Watching The Fall Guy Full Movie Streamings Online for Free. Do you like movies? If so, then you’ll love the New Action Movie: The Fall Guy. This movie is one of the best in its genre. The Fall Guy will be available to Watch Online on Netflix very soon
Offers a versatile means to access its cinematic wonder From heartfelt songs to buoyant humor this genre-bending work explores the power of friendship to upThe Fall Guy communities during troubling times Directed with nuanced color and vivacious animation lighter moments are blended seamlessly with touching introspection Cinephiles and casual fans alike will find their spirits The Fall Guyed by this inspirational story of diverse characters joining in solidarity Why not spend an evening immersed in the vibrant world of The Fall Guy? Don’t miss out! #The Fall Guy Movie
** LAST UPDATED : MAY 19, 2024.**
Crunchyroll. is continuing to beat out Crunchyroll. and Crunchyroll, over the New Year’s holiday weekend, with “The Fall Guy” now rising above “The Fall Guy” and “The Fall Guy.” With that trifecta, the studio has laid claim to the three of the top five slots at the domestic box office throughout the holiday season.
The Timothéee Chalamet-starring musical added another $8.6 million on Friday, up 32% from one week ago. The Paul King film has emerged as the theatrical favorite for the holidays, crossing $100 million domestically earlier this week. With a $119 million cume to date, the film continues to show strength and will reach $300 million globally before the calendar turns.
Though it slid into second place for Friday with $6.75 million, Crunchyroll. “The Fall Guy” fell 51% from its opening day last week. The latest and final entry in the current continuity of DC Comics adaptations has struggled for air, only reaching $65 million in its first week of release. The first “Aquaman,” released in 2018, surpassed that figure in its opening weekend alone. Bad reviews and superhero fatigue have plagued “Lost Kingdom,” which more than likely won’t even reach half the $335 million domestic total of its predecessor, much less justify a $205 million production budget.
Taking a close third place, Illumination and Crunchyroll’s“The Fall Guy” is maintaining its footing with $6.7 Friday after a muted $12 million debut lastweekend. “The Fall Guy” has underwhelmed so far, but its 17% increase over last Friday remains encouraging, especially for an original animated film with a production budget of only $70 million.
However,Here’s when you can bring The Fall Guy of Atlantis into your home.
Where and Can I Stream The Fall Guy? Is The Fall Guy Be Streaming?
The new "The Fall Guy" prequel The Fall Guy will be available for streaming first on Starz for subscribers Later on the movie will also be released on PeacockThanks to the agreement between distributor Crunchyroll and the NBC Crunchyroll streaming platform Determining the exact arrival date of the movie is a slightly more complex matter Typically Crunchyroll movies like John Wick 4 take approximately six months to become available on Starz where they tend to remain for a considerable period As for when Songbirds Snakes will be accessible on Peacock it could take nearly a year after its release although we will only receive confirmation once Crunchyroll makes an official announcement However if you The Fall Guy to watch the movie even earlier you can rent it on Video on Demand (VOD) which will likely be available before the streaming date on Starz
Where Can I Stream the Original The Fall Guy Movies in the Meantime?
In the meantime you can currently stream all four original The Fall Guy movies on Peacock until the end of November The availability of The Fall Guy movies onPeacock varies depending on the month so make sure to take advantage of the current availability
How To Watch The Fall Guy In English Online For Free:
As of now, the only way to watch The Fall Guy is to head out to a movie theater when it releases on Friday, September 8. You can find a local showing onFandango. Otherwise, you’ll have to wait until it becomes available to rent or purchase on digital platforms like Vudu, Apple, YouTube, and Amazon or available to stream on Max. The Fall Guy is still currently in theaters if you want to experience all the film’s twists and turns in a traditional cinema. But there’s also now an option to watch the film at home. As of November 25, 2024, The Fall Guy is available on HBO Max. Only those with a subscription to the service can watch the movie. Because the film is distributed by 20th Century Studios, it’s one of the last films of the year to head to HBO Max due to a streaming deal in lieu of Disney acquiring 20th Century Studios, as Variety reports. At the end of 2024, 20th Century Studios’ films will head to Hulu or Disney+ once they leave theaters.
Is The Fall Guy Movie on Netflix, Crunchyroll, Hulu, or Amazon Prime?
Netflix: The Fall Guy is currently not available on Netflix. However, fans of dark fantasy films can explore other thrilling options such as Doctor Strange to keep themselves entertained.
Crunchyroll: Crunchyroll and Funimation have acquired the rights to distribute The Fall Guy in North America. Stay tuned for its release on the platform inthe coming months. In the meantime, indulge in dark fantasy shows like Spider-man to fulfill your entertainment needs.
Hulu: Unfortunately, The Fall Guy is not available for streaming on Hulu. However, Hulu offers a variety of other exciting options like Afro Samurai Resurrection or Ninja Scroll to keep you entertained.
Disney+: The Fall Guy is not currently available for streaming on Disney+. Fans will have to wait until late December, when it is expected to be released on theplatform. Disney typically releases its films on Disney+ around 45-60 days after their theatrical release, ensuring an immersive cinematic experience for viewers.
IS The Fall Guy ON AMAZON PRIME VIDEO?
The Fall Guy movie could eventually be available to watch on Prime Video, though it will likely be a paid digital release rather than being included with anAmazon Prime subscription. This means that rather than watching the movie as part of an existing subscription fee, you may have to pay money to rent the movie digitally on Amazon. However, Crunchyroll. and Amazon have yet to discuss whether or not this will be the case.
WHEN WILL ‘The Fall Guy’, BE AVAILABLE DVD AND BLU-RAY?
As of right now, we don’t know. While the film will eventually land on Blu-ray, DVD, and 4KUltraHD, Crunchyroll has yet to reveal a specific date as to when that would be. The first Nun film also premiered in theaters in early September and was released on Blu-ray and DVD in December. Our best guess is that the sequel will follow a similar path and will be available around the holiday season.
HERE’S HOW TO WATCH ‘The Fall Guy’ ONLINE STREAMING IN AUSTRALIA
To watch ‘The Fall Guy’ (2024) for free online streaming in Australia and New Zealand, you can explore options like gomovies.one and gomovies.today, as mentioned in the search results. However, please note that the legality and safety of using such websites may vary, so exercise caution when accessing them. Additionally, you can check if the movie is available on popular streaming platforms like Netflix, Hulu, or Amazon Prime Video, as they often offer a wide selection of movies and TV.
Mark your calendars for July 8th, as that’s when The Fall Guy will be available on Disney+. This highly anticipated installment inthe franchise is packed with thrilling action and adventure, promising to captivate audiences and leave them craving for more. Captivate audiences and leave them craving for more.
Here is a comprehensive guide on how to watch The Fall Guy online in its entirety from the comfort of your own home. You can access thefull movie free of charge on the respected platform known as 123Movies. Immerse yourself in the captivating experience of The Fall Guy by watching it online for free. Alternatively, you can also enjoy the movie by downloading it in high definition. Enhance your movie viewing experience by watching The Fall Guy on 123movies, a trusted source for online movie streaming.
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2024.05.19 20:18 Ok_ewrsedfgc Watch The Fall Guy Online Free Streaming On Reddit

Still Now Here Option to Downloading or Watching The Fall Guy Full Movie Streamings Online for Free. Do you like movies? If so, then you’ll love the New Action Movie: The Fall Guy. This movie is one of the best in its genre. The Fall Guy will be available to Watch Online on Netflix very soon
Offers a versatile means to access its cinematic wonder From heartfelt songs to buoyant humor this genre-bending work explores the power of friendship to upThe Fall Guy communities during troubling times Directed with nuanced color and vivacious animation lighter moments are blended seamlessly with touching introspection Cinephiles and casual fans alike will find their spirits The Fall Guyed by this inspirational story of diverse characters joining in solidarity Why not spend an evening immersed in the vibrant world of The Fall Guy? Don’t miss out! #The Fall Guy Movie
** LAST UPDATED : MAY 19, 2024.**
Crunchyroll. is continuing to beat out Crunchyroll. and Crunchyroll, over the New Year’s holiday weekend, with “The Fall Guy” now rising above “The Fall Guy” and “The Fall Guy.” With that trifecta, the studio has laid claim to the three of the top five slots at the domestic box office throughout the holiday season.
The Timothéee Chalamet-starring musical added another $8.6 million on Friday, up 32% from one week ago. The Paul King film has emerged as the theatrical favorite for the holidays, crossing $100 million domestically earlier this week. With a $119 million cume to date, the film continues to show strength and will reach $300 million globally before the calendar turns.
Though it slid into second place for Friday with $6.75 million, Crunchyroll. “The Fall Guy” fell 51% from its opening day last week. The latest and final entry in the current continuity of DC Comics adaptations has struggled for air, only reaching $65 million in its first week of release. The first “Aquaman,” released in 2018, surpassed that figure in its opening weekend alone. Bad reviews and superhero fatigue have plagued “Lost Kingdom,” which more than likely won’t even reach half the $335 million domestic total of its predecessor, much less justify a $205 million production budget.
Taking a close third place, Illumination and Crunchyroll’s“The Fall Guy” is maintaining its footing with $6.7 Friday after a muted $12 million debut lastweekend. “The Fall Guy” has underwhelmed so far, but its 17% increase over last Friday remains encouraging, especially for an original animated film with a production budget of only $70 million.
However,Here’s when you can bring The Fall Guy of Atlantis into your home.
Where and Can I Stream The Fall Guy? Is The Fall Guy Be Streaming?
The new "The Fall Guy" prequel The Fall Guy will be available for streaming first on Starz for subscribers Later on the movie will also be released on PeacockThanks to the agreement between distributor Crunchyroll and the NBC Crunchyroll streaming platform Determining the exact arrival date of the movie is a slightly more complex matter Typically Crunchyroll movies like John Wick 4 take approximately six months to become available on Starz where they tend to remain for a considerable period As for when Songbirds Snakes will be accessible on Peacock it could take nearly a year after its release although we will only receive confirmation once Crunchyroll makes an official announcement However if you The Fall Guy to watch the movie even earlier you can rent it on Video on Demand (VOD) which will likely be available before the streaming date on Starz
Where Can I Stream the Original The Fall Guy Movies in the Meantime?
In the meantime you can currently stream all four original The Fall Guy movies on Peacock until the end of November The availability of The Fall Guy movies onPeacock varies depending on the month so make sure to take advantage of the current availability
How To Watch The Fall Guy In English Online For Free:
As of now, the only way to watch The Fall Guy is to head out to a movie theater when it releases on Friday, September 8. You can find a local showing onFandango. Otherwise, you’ll have to wait until it becomes available to rent or purchase on digital platforms like Vudu, Apple, YouTube, and Amazon or available to stream on Max. The Fall Guy is still currently in theaters if you want to experience all the film’s twists and turns in a traditional cinema. But there’s also now an option to watch the film at home. As of November 25, 2024, The Fall Guy is available on HBO Max. Only those with a subscription to the service can watch the movie. Because the film is distributed by 20th Century Studios, it’s one of the last films of the year to head to HBO Max due to a streaming deal in lieu of Disney acquiring 20th Century Studios, as Variety reports. At the end of 2024, 20th Century Studios’ films will head to Hulu or Disney+ once they leave theaters.
Is The Fall Guy Movie on Netflix, Crunchyroll, Hulu, or Amazon Prime?
Netflix: The Fall Guy is currently not available on Netflix. However, fans of dark fantasy films can explore other thrilling options such as Doctor Strange to keep themselves entertained.
Crunchyroll: Crunchyroll and Funimation have acquired the rights to distribute The Fall Guy in North America. Stay tuned for its release on the platform inthe coming months. In the meantime, indulge in dark fantasy shows like Spider-man to fulfill your entertainment needs.
Hulu: Unfortunately, The Fall Guy is not available for streaming on Hulu. However, Hulu offers a variety of other exciting options like Afro Samurai Resurrection or Ninja Scroll to keep you entertained.
Disney+: The Fall Guy is not currently available for streaming on Disney+. Fans will have to wait until late December, when it is expected to be released on theplatform. Disney typically releases its films on Disney+ around 45-60 days after their theatrical release, ensuring an immersive cinematic experience for viewers.
IS The Fall Guy ON AMAZON PRIME VIDEO?
The Fall Guy movie could eventually be available to watch on Prime Video, though it will likely be a paid digital release rather than being included with anAmazon Prime subscription. This means that rather than watching the movie as part of an existing subscription fee, you may have to pay money to rent the movie digitally on Amazon. However, Crunchyroll. and Amazon have yet to discuss whether or not this will be the case.
WHEN WILL ‘The Fall Guy’, BE AVAILABLE DVD AND BLU-RAY?
As of right now, we don’t know. While the film will eventually land on Blu-ray, DVD, and 4KUltraHD, Crunchyroll has yet to reveal a specific date as to when that would be. The first Nun film also premiered in theaters in early September and was released on Blu-ray and DVD in December. Our best guess is that the sequel will follow a similar path and will be available around the holiday season.
HERE’S HOW TO WATCH ‘The Fall Guy’ ONLINE STREAMING IN AUSTRALIA
To watch ‘The Fall Guy’ (2024) for free online streaming in Australia and New Zealand, you can explore options like gomovies.one and gomovies.today, as mentioned in the search results. However, please note that the legality and safety of using such websites may vary, so exercise caution when accessing them. Additionally, you can check if the movie is available on popular streaming platforms like Netflix, Hulu, or Amazon Prime Video, as they often offer a wide selection of movies and TV.
Mark your calendars for July 8th, as that’s when The Fall Guy will be available on Disney+. This highly anticipated installment inthe franchise is packed with thrilling action and adventure, promising to captivate audiences and leave them craving for more. Captivate audiences and leave them craving for more.
Here is a comprehensive guide on how to watch The Fall Guy online in its entirety from the comfort of your own home. You can access thefull movie free of charge on the respected platform known as 123Movies. Immerse yourself in the captivating experience of The Fall Guy by watching it online for free. Alternatively, you can also enjoy the movie by downloading it in high definition. Enhance your movie viewing experience by watching The Fall Guy on 123movies, a trusted source for online movie streaming.
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2024.05.19 20:17 Ok_ewrsedfgc How to Watch The Fall Guy Online Free On Reddit

Still Now Here Option to Downloading or Watching The Fall Guy Full Movie Streamings Online for Free. Do you like movies? If so, then you’ll love the New Action Movie: The Fall Guy. This movie is one of the best in its genre. The Fall Guy will be available to Watch Online on Netflix very soon
Offers a versatile means to access its cinematic wonder From heartfelt songs to buoyant humor this genre-bending work explores the power of friendship to upThe Fall Guy communities during troubling times Directed with nuanced color and vivacious animation lighter moments are blended seamlessly with touching introspection Cinephiles and casual fans alike will find their spirits The Fall Guyed by this inspirational story of diverse characters joining in solidarity Why not spend an evening immersed in the vibrant world of The Fall Guy? Don’t miss out! #The Fall Guy Movie
** LAST UPDATED : MAY 19, 2024.**
Crunchyroll. is continuing to beat out Crunchyroll. and Crunchyroll, over the New Year’s holiday weekend, with “The Fall Guy” now rising above “The Fall Guy” and “The Fall Guy.” With that trifecta, the studio has laid claim to the three of the top five slots at the domestic box office throughout the holiday season.
The Timothéee Chalamet-starring musical added another $8.6 million on Friday, up 32% from one week ago. The Paul King film has emerged as the theatrical favorite for the holidays, crossing $100 million domestically earlier this week. With a $119 million cume to date, the film continues to show strength and will reach $300 million globally before the calendar turns.
Though it slid into second place for Friday with $6.75 million, Crunchyroll. “The Fall Guy” fell 51% from its opening day last week. The latest and final entry in the current continuity of DC Comics adaptations has struggled for air, only reaching $65 million in its first week of release. The first “Aquaman,” released in 2018, surpassed that figure in its opening weekend alone. Bad reviews and superhero fatigue have plagued “Lost Kingdom,” which more than likely won’t even reach half the $335 million domestic total of its predecessor, much less justify a $205 million production budget.
Taking a close third place, Illumination and Crunchyroll’s“The Fall Guy” is maintaining its footing with $6.7 Friday after a muted $12 million debut lastweekend. “The Fall Guy” has underwhelmed so far, but its 17% increase over last Friday remains encouraging, especially for an original animated film with a production budget of only $70 million.
However,Here’s when you can bring The Fall Guy of Atlantis into your home.
Where and Can I Stream The Fall Guy? Is The Fall Guy Be Streaming?
The new "The Fall Guy" prequel The Fall Guy will be available for streaming first on Starz for subscribers Later on the movie will also be released on PeacockThanks to the agreement between distributor Crunchyroll and the NBC Crunchyroll streaming platform Determining the exact arrival date of the movie is a slightly more complex matter Typically Crunchyroll movies like John Wick 4 take approximately six months to become available on Starz where they tend to remain for a considerable period As for when Songbirds Snakes will be accessible on Peacock it could take nearly a year after its release although we will only receive confirmation once Crunchyroll makes an official announcement However if you The Fall Guy to watch the movie even earlier you can rent it on Video on Demand (VOD) which will likely be available before the streaming date on Starz
Where Can I Stream the Original The Fall Guy Movies in the Meantime?
In the meantime you can currently stream all four original The Fall Guy movies on Peacock until the end of November The availability of The Fall Guy movies onPeacock varies depending on the month so make sure to take advantage of the current availability
How To Watch The Fall Guy In English Online For Free:
As of now, the only way to watch The Fall Guy is to head out to a movie theater when it releases on Friday, September 8. You can find a local showing onFandango. Otherwise, you’ll have to wait until it becomes available to rent or purchase on digital platforms like Vudu, Apple, YouTube, and Amazon or available to stream on Max. The Fall Guy is still currently in theaters if you want to experience all the film’s twists and turns in a traditional cinema. But there’s also now an option to watch the film at home. As of November 25, 2024, The Fall Guy is available on HBO Max. Only those with a subscription to the service can watch the movie. Because the film is distributed by 20th Century Studios, it’s one of the last films of the year to head to HBO Max due to a streaming deal in lieu of Disney acquiring 20th Century Studios, as Variety reports. At the end of 2024, 20th Century Studios’ films will head to Hulu or Disney+ once they leave theaters.
Is The Fall Guy Movie on Netflix, Crunchyroll, Hulu, or Amazon Prime?
Netflix: The Fall Guy is currently not available on Netflix. However, fans of dark fantasy films can explore other thrilling options such as Doctor Strange to keep themselves entertained.
Crunchyroll: Crunchyroll and Funimation have acquired the rights to distribute The Fall Guy in North America. Stay tuned for its release on the platform inthe coming months. In the meantime, indulge in dark fantasy shows like Spider-man to fulfill your entertainment needs.
Hulu: Unfortunately, The Fall Guy is not available for streaming on Hulu. However, Hulu offers a variety of other exciting options like Afro Samurai Resurrection or Ninja Scroll to keep you entertained.
Disney+: The Fall Guy is not currently available for streaming on Disney+. Fans will have to wait until late December, when it is expected to be released on theplatform. Disney typically releases its films on Disney+ around 45-60 days after their theatrical release, ensuring an immersive cinematic experience for viewers.
IS The Fall Guy ON AMAZON PRIME VIDEO?
The Fall Guy movie could eventually be available to watch on Prime Video, though it will likely be a paid digital release rather than being included with anAmazon Prime subscription. This means that rather than watching the movie as part of an existing subscription fee, you may have to pay money to rent the movie digitally on Amazon. However, Crunchyroll. and Amazon have yet to discuss whether or not this will be the case.
WHEN WILL ‘The Fall Guy’, BE AVAILABLE DVD AND BLU-RAY?
As of right now, we don’t know. While the film will eventually land on Blu-ray, DVD, and 4KUltraHD, Crunchyroll has yet to reveal a specific date as to when that would be. The first Nun film also premiered in theaters in early September and was released on Blu-ray and DVD in December. Our best guess is that the sequel will follow a similar path and will be available around the holiday season.
HERE’S HOW TO WATCH ‘The Fall Guy’ ONLINE STREAMING IN AUSTRALIA
To watch ‘The Fall Guy’ (2024) for free online streaming in Australia and New Zealand, you can explore options like gomovies.one and gomovies.today, as mentioned in the search results. However, please note that the legality and safety of using such websites may vary, so exercise caution when accessing them. Additionally, you can check if the movie is available on popular streaming platforms like Netflix, Hulu, or Amazon Prime Video, as they often offer a wide selection of movies and TV.
Mark your calendars for July 8th, as that’s when The Fall Guy will be available on Disney+. This highly anticipated installment inthe franchise is packed with thrilling action and adventure, promising to captivate audiences and leave them craving for more. Captivate audiences and leave them craving for more.
Here is a comprehensive guide on how to watch The Fall Guy online in its entirety from the comfort of your own home. You can access thefull movie free of charge on the respected platform known as 123Movies. Immerse yourself in the captivating experience of The Fall Guy by watching it online for free. Alternatively, you can also enjoy the movie by downloading it in high definition. Enhance your movie viewing experience by watching The Fall Guy on 123movies, a trusted source for online movie streaming.
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2024.05.19 20:13 PageTurner627 My Dad and I Hunted Down the Dogman that Killed My Sister

I’ve always hated the smell of gun oil. It clings to everything it touches, soaking deep into the fibers of my clothes, the lining of my backpack, the coarse hair on the back of my hands. Yet here I am, kneeling on the cracked linoleum of our mudroom, a Remington .308 laid across my thighs, and the stench of gun oil sharp in my nostrils. The early morning light barely scratches at the edges of the blinds, dim and gray like the belly of a dead fish.
My dad Frank is in the kitchen, clattering around with the coffeepot and mumbling under his breath. Today we’re heading up to the woods of Northern Michigan, same as we did every year before Leah… before we lost her.
I can’t help but feel the old scars throbbing as I load bullets into the magazine. It’s been ten years since that hunting trip, the one that tore my family into before and after. Before, when Leah's laughter was a constant soundtrack to our lives; after, when every silence was filled with her absence.
We were just kids back then. I was ten, Leah was eight. It was supposed to be a typical hunting trip, one of those bonding experiences Dad was always talking about. But things went wrong. We got separated from Dad somehow. One minute we were following him, the next we were lost, the dense woods closing in around us.
Dad says when he found me, I was huddled under a fallen tree, my eyes wide, my body frozen. All I could mutter through chattering teeth was "Dogman."
It was only later, after the search parties had combed through every thicket and hollow, that they found her. What remained of Leah was barely recognizable, the evidence of a brutal mauling undeniable. The authorities concluded it was likely a bear attack, but Dad... he never accepted that explanation. He had seen the tracks, too large and oddly shaped for any bear.
As I load another round, the memory flashes, unbidden and unwelcome. Large, hairy clawed hands reaching out towards us, impossibly big, grotesque in their form. Yet, the rest of the creature eludes me, a shadow just beyond the edge of my recall, leaving me with nothing but fragmented terrors and Leah’s haunting, echoing screams. My mind blocked most of it out, a self-defense mechanism, I guess.
For years after that day, sleep was a battleground. I'd wake up in strange places—kitchen floor, backyard, even at the edge of the nearby creek. My therapist said it was my mind's way of trying to resolve the unresolved, to wander back through the woods searching for Leah. But all I found in those sleepless nights was a deeper sense of loss.
It took time, a lot of therapy, and patience I didn't know I had, but the sleepwalking did eventually stop. I guess I started to find some semblance of peace.
I have mostly moved on with my life. The fragmentary memories of that day are still there, lurking in the corners of my mind, but they don’t dominate my thoughts like they used to. I just finished my sophomore year at Michigan State, majoring in Environmental Science.
As for Dad, the loss of Leah broke him. He became a shell of himself. It destroyed his marriage with Mom. He blamed himself for letting us out of his sight, for not protecting Leah. His life took on a single, consuming focus: finding the creature that killed her. He read every book, every article on cryptids and unexplained phenomena. He mapped sightings, connected dots across blurry photos and shaky testimonies of the Dogman.
But as the tenth anniversary of Leah’s death approaches, Dad's obsession has grown more intense. He’s started staying up late, poring over his maps and notes, muttering to himself about patterns and cycles. He’s convinced that the dogman reappears every ten years, and this is our window of opportunity to finally hunt it down.
I’m not nearly as convinced. The whole dogman thing seems like a coping mechanism, a way for Dad to channel his guilt and grief into something tangible, something he can fight against. But I decided to tag along on this trip, partly to keep an eye on him, partly because a small part of me hopes that maybe, just maybe, we’ll find some kind of closure out there in the woods.
I finish loading the rifle and set it aside, standing up to stretch my legs. I wipe my greasy hands on an old rag, trying to get rid of the smell. The early morning light is starting to seep into the room, casting long shadows across the floor.
Dad comes out of the kitchen with two thermoses of coffee in hand. His eyes are bleary and tired.
“You ready, Ryan?” he asks, handing me a thermos, his voice rough from too many sleepless nights.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” I reply, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
We load our gear into the truck, the weight of our supplies and weapons a physical reminder of the burden we carry. The drive from Lansing across the Lower Peninsula is long and quiet, the silence between us filled with unspoken memories and unresolved grief.
—
The drive north is a blur of highway lines and the dull hum of the engine. I drift off, the landscape outside blending into a haze. In my sleep, fragments of that day with Leah replay like scattered pieces of a puzzle. I see her smile, the way she tugged at my sleeve, eager to explore. The sunlight filters through the trees in sharp, jagged streaks.
Then, the memory shifts—darker, disjointed. Leah's voice echoes, a playful laugh turning into a scream that pierces the air. The crunch of leaves underfoot as something heavy moves through the underbrush. I see a shadow, large and looming, not quite fitting the shapes of any creature I know.
Then, something darker creeps into the dream, something I’ve never allowed myself to remember clearly.
Before I can see what it is I wake up with a start as the truck jerks slightly on a rough patch of road. Dad glances over. "Bad dream?" he asks. I nod, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, the remnants of the dream clinging to me like the cold.
"Yeah, just... thinking about Leah," I manage to say.
As we drive, Dad attempts to bridge the silence with small talk. He asks about my finals, my plans for the summer, anything to keep the conversation going. His voice carries a forced cheerfulness, but it’s clear his heart isn’t in it. I respond when necessary, my answers brief, my gaze fixed on the passing scenery.
The landscape changes as we head further north, from flat expanses to rolling hills dotted with dense patches of forest. It's beautiful country, the kind that reminds you how vast and wild Michigan can be, but today it just feels oppressive, like it’s closing in on us.
—
We finally arrive at the cabin, nestled deep in the woods, its weathered wood blending seamlessly with the surrounding trees. The place hasn't changed much since the last time I was here—a relic from another time, filled with the echoes of our past. I can still see Leah running around the porch, her laughter ringing out into the forest.
Dad parks the truck, and we step out into the crisp air. The smell of pine and damp earth fills my nostrils. We start unloading our gear, the tension between us palpable.
“Let’s get this inside,” Dad says, his voice gruff as he hefts a duffel bag onto his shoulder.
I nod, grabbing my own bag and following him to the cabin. Inside, it’s a mix of old and new—the same rustic furniture, but with new hunting gear and maps strewn across the table. Dad’s obsession is evident in every corner of the room, a constant reminder of why we’re here.
As we unpack, we exchange strained attempts at normalcy. He talks about the latest cryptid sightings he’s read about, his eyes lighting up with a fervor that both worries and saddens me.
“Did you hear about the sighting up near Alpena?” he asks, laying out his maps on the table.
“Yeah, you mentioned it,” I reply, trying to muster some enthusiasm. “Do you really think there’s something to it?”
Dad’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see a flicker of doubt. But it’s quickly replaced by grim determination. “I have to believe it, Ryan. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
We finish unpacking, the silence between us growing heavier with each passing minute. I step outside to clear my head, the cool air a welcome relief. The sun is starting to set, casting long shadows across the clearing. I can’t shake the feeling of unease.
"You can take the upstairs room," Dad mutters. His voice is strained, trying to sound normal, but it's clear the weight of the past is heavy on him. I nod, hauling my backpack up the creaking stairs to the small bedroom that I used to share with Leah. The room feels smaller now, or maybe I've just grown too much since those innocent days.
I unpack silently, setting my things aside. The bed is stiff and cold under my touch. As I settle in, I can't help but glance at the corner where Leah and I would huddle together, whispering secrets and making plans for adventures that would never happen. I push the thoughts away, focusing on the practicalities of unpacking.
After settling in, I go back downstairs to find Dad loading up a backpack with supplies for our hunt. The intensity in his eyes is palpable, his hands moving with practiced precision. I know this routine; it's one he's perfected over countless solo trips since that fateful day.
"We'll head out early," he says, not looking up from his task. "Gotta make the most of the daylight."
I nod, though unease curls in my stomach. I'm not just worried about what we might find—or not find—out there. I'm worried about him. Each year, the obsession seems to carve him out a bit more, leaving less of the Dad I knew.
—
The morning air is sharp with the scent of pine and wet earth as Dad and I head into the deeper parts of the forest. The terrain is rugged, familiar in its untamed beauty, but there’s a tension between us that makes the landscape feel alien. Dad moves with a purposeful stride, his eyes scanning the woods around us. Every snap of a twig, every rustle in the underbrush seems to draw his attention. He’s on edge, and it puts me on edge too.
As we walk, my mind drifts back to that day ten years ago. I can almost hear Leah’s voice echoing through the trees, her high-pitched call as she darted ahead, "Catch me, Ryan!" I remember how the sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dancing shadows on the ground. Those memories are so vivid, so tangible, it feels like I could just turn a corner and see her there, waiting for us.
Dad suddenly stops and kneels, examining the ground. He points out a set of tracks that are too large for a deer, with an unusual gait pattern. "It’s been here, Ry. I’m telling you, it’s close," he whispers, a mixture of excitement and something darker in his voice. I nod, though I’m not sure what to believe. Part of me wants to dismiss it all as grief-fueled obsession, but another part, the part that heard Leah's scream and saw something monstrous in the woods that day, isn’t so sure.
As we continue, Dad's comments become increasingly cryptic. "You know, they say the dogman moves in cycles, drawn to certain places, certain times. Like it’s tied to the land itself," he muses, more to himself than to me. His fixation on the creature has always been intense, but now it borders on mania.
We set up a makeshift blind near a clearing where Dad insists the creature will pass. Hours drag by with little to see but the occasional bird or distant deer.
The sun rises higher in the sky, casting long, slender shadows through the dense canopy. I shift uncomfortably in my spot, the forest floor hard and unyielding beneath me. My eyes dart between the trees, hoping to catch a glimpse of something, anything, to break the monotony. Dad, on the other hand, remains steadfast, his gaze fixed on the treeline as if he can will the dogman into existence by sheer force of will.
A bird chirps nearby, startling me. I sigh and adjust my grip on the rifle. I glance over at Dad.
“Anything?” I ask, more out of boredom than genuine curiosity.
“Not yet,” he replies, his voice tight. “But it’s out there. I know it.”
I nod, even though I’m not sure I believe him. The forest seems too quiet, too still. Maybe we’re chasing ghosts.
As the sun begins its descent, the forest is bathed in a warm, golden light. The air cools, and a breeze rustles the leaves. I shiver, more from anticipation than the cold. The long hours of sitting and waiting are starting to wear on me.
“Let’s call it a day for now,” Dad says finally, his voice heavy with disappointment. “We’ll head back to the cabin, get some rest, and try again tomorrow.”
I stand and stretch, feeling the stiffness in my muscles. We pack up our gear in silence and start the trek back to the cabin. The walk is long and quiet, the only sounds are the crunch of leaves underfoot and the distant calls of birds settling in for the night.
—
Dinner is a quiet affair, both of us lost in our thoughts. I try to make small talk, asking Dad about his plans for tomorrow, but it feels forced. We clean up in silence.
After dinner, I retreat to the small bedroom. The fatigue from the day's hike has settled into my bones, but sleep still feels like a distant hope. I lie down, staring at the ceiling, the room cloaked in darkness save for the sliver of moonlight creeping through the window. Downstairs, I hear the faint sound of Dad moving around, likely unable to sleep himself.
I drift into sleep, but it's not restful. My dreams pull me back to that fateful day in the woods. Leah's voice is clear and vibrant, her laughter echoing through the trees. She looks just as she did then—bright-eyed and full of life, her blonde hair catching the sunlight as she runs ahead of me.
"Come on, Ry! You can't catch me!" she taunts, her voice playful and teasing.
I chase after her, but the scene shifts abruptly. The sky darkens, the woods around us growing dense and foreboding. Leah's laughter fades, replaced by a chilling silence. I see her ahead, standing still, her back to me.
"Leah?" I call out, my voice trembling. She turns slowly, her eyes wide and filled with fear. "Ryan, you have to remember," she says, her voice barely a whisper. "It wasn't what you think. You need to know the truth."
Leah’s words hang in the air, cryptic and unsettling. Before I can respond, she turns and starts running again, her figure becoming a blur among the trees. Panic rises in my chest as I sprint after her, my feet pounding against the forest floor.
“Leah, wait!” I shout, desperation lacing my voice. The forest around me seems to close in, the trees towering and twisted, shadows dancing menacingly in the dim light. I push forward, trying to keep her in sight, but she’s too fast, slipping away like a wisp of smoke.
Suddenly, there’s a rustle, a flash of movement in the corner of my vision. Leah screams, a sound that pierces through the heavy silence. It happens too quickly—I can’t see what it is, only a dark blur that snatches her up.
“Leah!” I scream, my voice breaking. I stumble, falling to my knees as the forest spins around me. My heart races, and the terror is so real, so visceral, that it pulls me back to that awful day, the one that changed everything.
I jolt awake, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
I sit up, wiping the cold sweat from my forehead as I try to steady my breathing. The room is still dark, the shadows cast by the moonlight seem to flicker and dance on the walls. My heart is still racing from the nightmare, the echo of Leah's scream lingering in my ears.
As I struggle to calm down, the floorboards outside my room creak. The door opens slowly, and I see the silhouette of my dad in the doorway, a Bowie knife in his hand, his posture tense.
“Dad, what the hell are you doing?” I whisper, my voice shaking.
“Shh,” he hisses, holding up a hand to silence me. “I heard something. Something moving around in the cabin. Stay quiet.”
I swallow hard, my mouth dry. I glance at the clock on the nightstand—it’s just past three in the morning. The cabin is silent, the kind of deep, oppressive silence that makes every small sound seem louder. I can’t hear anything out of the ordinary, but Dad’s expression is deadly serious.
He motions for me to get up, and I do, moving as quietly as I can. My heart is racing, a mix of lingering fear from the dream and the sudden, sharp anxiety of the present moment. Dad leads the way, stepping cautiously out of the bedroom and into the hallway, the knife held ready in front of him.
We move through the cabin, checking each room in turn. The living room is empty, the furniture casting long shadows in the dim moonlight. The kitchen is just as we left it, the plates from dinner still drying on the counter. Everything seems normal, untouched.
We finish our sweep of the cabin without finding anything amiss. The silence is heavy, punctuated only by our soft footfalls. I can see the tension in Dad’s frame, his grip on the knife unwavering. After checking the last room, we pause in the dimly lit hallway, the air thick with unspoken questions.
“There’s nothing here,” I say, my voice low. “Are you sure you heard something?”
He looks at me, his eyes searching for something in my face. “I heard growling. Deep and close. It was right outside the window.”
“Maybe it was just an animal outside, a raccoon or something?” I suggest, although the certainty in his voice makes me doubt my own reassurance.
“No, it wasn’t like that. It was different,” he insists, his voice tense.
I nod, not wanting to argue, but the seeds of worry are planted deep.
The look in his eyes sends a chill down my spine. It’s not just fear—it’s desperation. The kind of desperation that comes from years of chasing shadows and finding nothing. I can see the toll this hunt has taken on him, the way it’s worn him down, turned him into a man I barely recognize.
We head back to our rooms. As I lie down, my mind races with thoughts of my dad. I can’t help but wonder if he’s losing it, if the years of grief and guilt have finally pushed him over the edge.
Dad wasn’t always like this. Before Leah’s death, he was the kind of father who took us fishing, helped with homework, and told terrible jokes that made us groan and laugh at the same time. He was solid, dependable. But losing Leah changed him. The guilt twisted him into someone I barely recognize, someone driven by a need for answers, for closure, that may never come.
I try to sleep, but my thoughts keep me awake. I can hear Dad moving around downstairs, probably pacing or double-checking the locks. His paranoia has become a constant presence, and I don’t know how to help him. I don’t even know if I can help him.
—
The next morning, the sunlight filters weakly through the cabin windows, casting a pale light that does little to lift the heavy mood. I drag myself out of bed, feeling the exhaustion of another restless night. Dad is already up, hunched over his maps at the kitchen table, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep.
“Morning,” I mumble, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I pour myself a cup of coffee. “Did you sleep at all?”
He shakes his head, not looking up from his notes. “Not much. I couldn’t stop thinking about what I heard last night.”
I sip my coffee, trying to shake off the remnants of my nightmare. “Maybe it was just an animal, Dad. We’re deep in the woods, after all.”
He finally looks up, his eyes intense. “Ryan, I know what I heard. It wasn’t just an animal. It was something else.”
I sigh, not wanting to argue. “Okay, fine, Dad. What’s the plan for today?”
“We’re going back out. I found some tracks yesterday, and I want to follow them. See where they lead.”
I nod, feeling a mix of apprehension and resignation. I can see how much this means to him, how desperate he is for any kind of lead. “Alright. Let’s get packed and head out.”
We spend the morning preparing, loading up our gear and double-checking our supplies. Dad is meticulous, going over everything with a fine-toothed comb. I try to match his focus, but my mind keeps drifting back to Leah and the dream I had. Her words echo in my head, cryptic and unsettling: “You need to know the truth.”
We set off into the woods, the air crisp and cool. The forest is alive with the sounds of birds and rustling leaves, but it all feels distant, like background noise to the tension between us. Dad leads the way, his eyes scanning the ground for any sign of the tracks he found yesterday.
As we walk, I can’t help but notice how erratically he’s acting. He mutters to himself, his eyes darting around as if expecting something to jump out at us. His grip on his rifle is tight, his knuckles white.
“Dad, are you okay?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
He glances at me, his expression unreadable. “I’m fine. Just focused.”
He stops frequently to examine the ground or the bark of trees, pointing out marks and signs that seem meaningless to me.
“Look at this,” he says, crouching down to examine a broken branch. “See how it’s snapped? That’s not a deer or a bear. That’s something bigger. Stronger.”
I crouch next to Dad, squinting at the broken branch. To me, it just looks like a regular broken branch, the kind you see all over the forest. "I don't know, Dad. It just looks like a branch to me," I say, trying to keep my voice neutral.
Dad's eyes flicker with frustration. "You're not looking close enough. It's the way it's snapped—too clean, too deliberate. Something did this."
I nod, not wanting to argue. "Okay, sure. But even if you're right, it could be anything. A storm, another hunter..."
His expression hardens. "I know what I'm looking for. This is different."
I sigh, feeling the weight of the past and the tension between us pressing down on me. "Dad, I had a dream last night. About Leah." The words hang in the air between us, heavy and fraught with unspoken emotions.
Dad's eyes widen, and he straightens up, his entire demeanor shifting. "What kind of dream? What did you see?" His voice is urgent, almost desperate.
"It was... strange. We were in the woods, like we are now, but everything felt different. Leah was there, running ahead of me, laughing. Then she stopped and told me I needed to know the truth, that it wasn't what I thought."
Dad grabs my shoulders, his grip tight. "What else did she say? Did she tell you anything specific? Anything about the creature?"
I shake my head, feeling a chill run down my spine. "No, that was it. She just said I needed to know the truth, and then she was gone."
Dad’s grip on my shoulders tightens, and his eyes bore into mine with a mixture of desperation and hope. “Ryan, you have to try to remember. Think hard. What did the creature look like? Did you see anything else?”
I pull back slightly, uneasy with his intensity. “Dad, I told you. I don’t remember. It was just a dream. A nightmare, really. My mind’s probably just mixing things up.”
He lets go of me and runs a hand through his hair, looking frustrated and lost. “Dreams can be important. They can hold memories we’ve buried deep. Please, try to remember. This could be a sign, a clue.”
I rub my temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “I’ve tried, okay? I’ve tried for years to piece together what happened that day. But it’s all just fragments, like pieces of a puzzle that don’t fit. The dream… it felt real, but I don’t think it’s telling me anything new.”
Dad’s face falls, and he looks older than I’ve ever seen him. He turns away, staring into the forest as if it holds all the answers.
—
As we make our way back to the cabin, the sun begins to set, casting long shadows through the trees. The air grows colder, and I shiver, pulling my jacket tighter around me. Dad is silent, lost in his thoughts, his face drawn and haggard.
Back at the cabin, we unload our gear once again in silence. Dad disappears into his room, muttering something about going over his notes. I decide to explore the cabin, hoping to find something that might help me understand what’s going on with him.
In the attic, I find a box of old family photos and documents. As I sift through the contents, I come across a worn journal with Dad’s handwriting on the cover. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I open it, flipping through the pages.
The journal is filled with notes and sketches, detailing his obsession with the dogman. But there’s something else—entries that talk about Leah, about that day in the woods. His handwriting becomes more erratic, the words harder to read. One entry stands out, dated just a few days after Leah’s death:
“June 15, 2013 – It was supposed to be a normal trip. Keep them close, Frank, I kept telling myself. But I failed. Leah is gone, and it’s my fault. I heard her scream, saw the shadows. I tried to get to her, but… the thing, it was there. Too fast. Too strong. My hands… blood everywhere. No one will believe me. I can’t even believe myself. I have to find it. I have to protect Ryan. I have to make it right. God, what have I done?”
Before I can read further, the attic door creaks open, and Dad’s voice slices through the stillness.
“What are you doing up here?” His tone is sharp, almost panicked.
I turn to see him standing in the doorway, his face pale and his eyes wide with something between anger and fear. I clutch the journal to my chest, my mind racing. “I found this… I was just trying to understand…”
In an instant, he crosses the room and snatches the journal from my hands. His grip is tight, his knuckles white. “You had no right,” he growls, his voice trembling.
“Dad, I just wanted to know the truth!” I shout, frustration boiling over. “What really happened to Leah.”
His eyes flash with a mix of rage and anguish, and before I can react, he slaps me across the face. The force of it knocks me off balance, and I stumble backward, my cheek stinging.
For a moment, there’s a stunned silence. We both stand there, breathing hard, the air thick with tension.
“I’m sorry,” Dad says finally, his voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t mean to… I just…” He trails off, clutching the journal to his chest like a lifeline.
I touch my cheek, feeling the heat from the slap, and take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “Dad, what aren’t you telling me? What really happened that day?”
“Stay out of it, Ryan,” Dad growls, his eyes dark with anger. “You don’t know what you’re messing with.”
He turns and storms out of the attic. I’m left standing there, my cheek throbbing, my mind racing. What the fuck is going on? What really happened to Leah? And what is Dad so afraid of?
—
That night, I sleep with my rifle within arm's reach, more afraid of my dad than any dogman. The slap still burns on my cheek, and the look in his eyes—rage, fear, something darker—haunts me. I lie awake, listening to the creaks and groans of the old cabin, every sound amplified in the stillness. Eventually, exhaustion pulls me under, and I fall into a restless sleep.
The dream returns, vivid and unsettling. I'm back in the woods, chasing after Leah. Her laughter echoes through the trees, a haunting reminder of happier times. This time, though, I push myself harder, refusing to let her slip away.
"Ryan, catch me!" she calls, her voice playful.
"I'm coming, Leah!" I shout, my legs pumping, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
The forest around us is a twisted, shadowy maze, the trees seeming to close in on us. Leah's figure becomes clearer, her blonde hair catching the dim light filtering through the canopy. She stops suddenly, turning to face me, her eyes wide with fear.
"Leah, what is it?" I ask, my voice trembling.
"Look behind you," she whispers, her voice barely audible.
I turn slowly, dread creeping up my spine. In the shadows, I see a figure, its form indistinct and shifting. It’s not quite animal, not quite human—something in between. The sight of it sends a jolt of terror through me, and I wake up with a start, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
I’m not in my bed. The ground beneath me is cold and hard, the smell of damp earth filling my nostrils. Panic rises as I realize I’ve sleepwalked into the woods. I scramble to my feet, my eyes adjusting to the dim light. The moon casts a pale glow over the surroundings, revealing what looks like a long-abandoned animal lair.
The walls are covered in giant claw marks, deep gouges in the wood and earth. The air is heavy with the scent of decay, and a chill runs through me. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched.
Carefully, I start to move, my eyes scanning the ground, desperate for a familiar landmark. That's when I see them—faded scraps of fabric caught on the jagged edges of the underbrush. My steps falter, a sense of dread washing over me as I bend down to examine them. The fabric is torn, weathered by time and the elements, but unmistakably familiar. It's part of Leah's jacket—the bright pink one she wore on the day she disappeared.
As I strain to make sense of it all, a rustling sound behind me snaps my focus. My heart leaps into my throat. I spin around, my hand instinctively reaching for the rifle I don't have—because, of course, I didn't bring it in my unconscious state.
The shadowy figure that emerges from the trees is unsettlingly familiar, mirroring the menacing forms of my nightmares. But as it steps into the moonlight, I recognize the worn jacket, the weary posture. It's Dad.
"Ryan!" he calls out, his voice a mix of relief and stern concern. "I've been looking everywhere for you. What the hell are you doing out here?"
I exhale slowly, the terror ebbing away as reality sets back in. "I—I don't know, Dad. I must've sleepwalked again." My voice is shaky, my earlier dream still clinging to the edges of my consciousness.
Dad stares at me in disbelief. "You haven't sleepwalked since you were a kid, Ry. This... this isn't just a coincidence." His eyes dart around, taking in the surroundings—the eerie, claw-marked den, the unsettling quiet of the woods. "How did you even find this place?"
I shake my head, struggling to find an answer. "I don't know, Dad. I just... I woke up here." The uncertainty in my voice does nothing to ease the tension.
His eyes lock onto the tattered remains of Leah's jacket in my hands, and something inside him snaps. The color drains from his face as he stumbles a few steps backward. "This... this is where it happened," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper. “This is where we found Leah."
“I thought you said you don’t remember anything from that night,” he says accusingly.
"I swear, Dad, I don't know anything about this place," I insist, my own heart pounding.
“It was you, wasn’t it? You’ve been hiding this from me.” His voice is frantic. “You... last night, the growling, it was you.” His voice rises, tinged with hysteria.
I step back, my pulse racing, feeling the chill of the night and the weight of his accusation. "Dad, I don't know what you're talking ab—”
"No!" he interrupts, his voice breaking as he points a trembling finger at me. "You knew, you always knew. It was you, Ryan. All these years, the evidence was right there, but I refused to see it. You were the dogman. You killed Leah!"
His words hit me like a physical blow, absurd and horrifying in their implications. "Dad, you're not making any sense. You're talking crazy! I was just a little kid! How could I–" I protest, my voice shaky.
He steps closer, his presence looming over me, the outline of his figure distorted by the shadows of the trees. "Think about it! It all makes sense now. You led us here, to this place, because you remember. Because you did it."
"Dad, stop it!" I shout, my heart pounding in my chest. "You're scaring me. You need help, professional help. This isn't you."
But he's beyond reason, his eyes wild with a haunted grief. "I have to end this," he mutters, more to himself than to me, his hand tightening around his rifle.
His finger hovers dangerously over the trigger of his rifle. My instincts kick in, and I know I have to act fast.
I lunge toward him, trying to knock the weapon away, but he's quicker than I expected. We struggle, our breaths heavy in the cold night air, the sounds of our scuffle the only noise in the otherwise silent woods. His strength surprises me, fueled by his frantic emotions. He shoves me back, and I stumble over a root, my balance lost for a crucial second. That's all he needs. He raises his rifle, his intentions clear in his wild, pained eyes.
I dive to the ground just as the shot rings out, a deafening blast that echoes ominously through the trees. The bullet whizzes past, narrowly missing me, embedding itself in the bark of an old pine. I scramble to my feet, my heart pounding in my ears, and I start running. The underbrush claws at my clothes and skin, but I push through, driven by a primal urge to survive.
"Dad, stop! It's me, Ryan!" I shout back as I dodge between the trees. Another shot breaks the silence, closer this time, sending splinters of wood flying from a nearby tree trunk. It's surreal, being hunted by my own father, a man tormented by grief and lost in his delusions.
I don't stop to look back. I can hear him crashing through the forest behind me, his heavy breaths and muttered curses carried on the wind. The terrain is rough, and I'm fueled by adrenaline, but exhaustion is setting in. I need a plan.
Ahead, I see a rocky outcrop and make a split-second decision to head for it. It offers a chance to hide, to catch my breath and maybe reason with him if he catches up. As I reach the rocks, I slip behind the largest one, my body pressed tight against the cold, damp surface. I hear his footsteps approaching, slow and cautious now.
As I press against the rock, trying to calm my racing heart, I can hear Dad's footsteps drawing closer, each step crunching ominously on the forest floor. He's methodical, deliberate, like a hunter stalking his prey.
“Come out, Ryan!” Dad’s voice is ragged, filled with a blend of fury and pain.
My heart pounds against my chest, the cold sweat on my back making me shiver against the rough surface of the rock. I know I can't just sit here; it's only a matter of time before he finds me.
Taking a deep breath, I peek around the edge of the rock, trying to gauge his position. I see him, rifle raised, scanning the area slowly. This might be my only chance to end this madness without further violence. I need to disarm him, to talk some sense into him if I can.
As quietly as I can, I move out from behind the rock, my steps careful to avoid any twigs or leaves that might betray my position. I'm almost upon him when a branch snaps under my foot—a sound so trivial yet so alarmingly loud in the quiet of the woods.
Dad whirls around, looking completely unhinged. "Ryan!" he exclaims, his rifle swinging in my direction. Panic overtakes me, and I lunge forward, my hands reaching for the gun.
We struggle, the rifle between us, our breaths heavy and erratic. "Dad, please, stop!" I plead, trying to wrestle the gun away. But he's strong, stronger than I expected.
In the chaos, the rifle goes off. The sound is deafening, a sharp echo that seems to reverberate off every tree around us. Pain explodes in my abdomen, sharp and burning, like nothing I've ever felt before. I stagger back, my hands instinctively going to the wound. The warmth of my own blood coats my fingers, stark and terrifying.
Dad drops the rifle, his eyes wide with horror. "Oh my God! What have I done?" he gasps, rushing to my side as I collapse onto the forest floor.
As the pain sears through me, a strange, overpowering energy surges within. It's wild, primal, unlike anything I've ever experienced. Looking down in horror, my hands are no longer hands but large, hairy, clawed appendages. The transformation is rapid, consuming—my vision blurs, senses heighten, and a raw, guttural growl builds in my throat.
In that moment, a flood of understanding washes over me, mingling with the horror of realization. These are the hands of the creature from my nightmares, the creature whose face I can never fully recall because, as I now understand, it is me.
What happens next feels detached, as if I'm no longer in control of my own actions, watching from a distance as my body moves on its own. I turn towards my dad, his face a mask of terror. He stumbles back, his eyes wide with the dawning realization of what his son has become.
The forest around us seems to fall silent, holding its breath as the nightmarish scene unfolds. I can hear my own growls, guttural and deep, filling the air with a sound that's both foreign and intimately familiar. The pain in my abdomen fuels a dark, violent urge, an urge that's too strong to resist.
With a ferocity that feels both alien and intrinsic, I move towards him. My dad, paralyzed by fear and shock, doesn't run. Maybe he can't. Maybe he doesn't want to.
The encounter is brutal and swift, a blur of motion and violence. My dad barely puts up a struggle, as though resigned to his fate.
Not that there is anything he can do. The creature that I’ve become is too powerful, too consumed by the wild instincts surging through me. I tear him apart, limb from bloody limb, my hands—no, my claws—rending through fabric and flesh with disgusting ease.
The sound of my dad’s screams, of tearing fabric and flesh is drowned out by the animalistic growls that echo through the trees.
When it’s all over, the red mist that had clouded my vision begins to fade, and the fierce, uncontrollable rage that drove my actions subsides. I'm left standing, my breaths heavy and erratic, in the eerie stillness of the forest. The transformation reverses as quickly as it came on, and I find myself back in my human form. My clothes are ripped to shreds, hanging off my frame in tattered remnants. At my feet lies what’s left of my dad, his body torn and unrecognizable.
I glance down at my abdomen, expecting agony, but instead find my wound miraculously healed. No sign of the gunshot remains, just a faint scar where I expected a bloody mess.
Shock sets in, a numbing disbelief mixed with a gut-wrenching realization of what I've become and what I've done. My hands, now human again, tremble as I look at them, half-expecting to see the claws that had so effortlessly ripped through flesh and bone. But there's only blood, my father's blood against my skin.
I stand there for what feels like an eternity, trapped in a nightmare of my own making.
Eventually, the shock wears thin, and a cold practicality takes hold. I need to get out of here. I need to cover my tracks, to disappear. Because who would believe this? Who would understand that I didn't choose this, that I'm not a monster by choice?
With trembling hands, I do what’s necessary. I bury my dad in a shallow grave, the physical act of digging strangely grounding. I cover him with leaves and branches, a pitiful attempt to hide the brutality of his end. I take a moment, whispering apologies into the wind, knowing full well that nothing I say can change what happened.
I leave the forest behind, my mind a whirl of dark thoughts. As I walk, the first hints of dawn brush against the horizon, the sky bleeding a soft pink. It’s hauntingly beautiful.
submitted by PageTurner627 to TheCrypticCompendium [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 20:12 PageTurner627 My Dad and I Hunted Down the Dogman that Killed My Sister

I’ve always hated the smell of gun oil. It clings to everything it touches, soaking deep into the fibers of my clothes, the lining of my backpack, the coarse hair on the back of my hands. Yet here I am, kneeling on the cracked linoleum of our mudroom, a Remington .308 laid across my thighs, and the stench of gun oil sharp in my nostrils. The early morning light barely scratches at the edges of the blinds, dim and gray like the belly of a dead fish.
My dad Frank is in the kitchen, clattering around with the coffeepot and mumbling under his breath. Today we’re heading up to the woods of Northern Michigan, same as we did every year before Leah… before we lost her.
I can’t help but feel the old scars throbbing as I load bullets into the magazine. It’s been ten years since that hunting trip, the one that tore my family into before and after. Before, when Leah's laughter was a constant soundtrack to our lives; after, when every silence was filled with her absence.
We were just kids back then. I was ten, Leah was eight. It was supposed to be a typical hunting trip, one of those bonding experiences Dad was always talking about. But things went wrong. We got separated from Dad somehow. One minute we were following him, the next we were lost, the dense woods closing in around us.
Dad says when he found me, I was huddled under a fallen tree, my eyes wide, my body frozen. All I could mutter through chattering teeth was "Dogman."
It was only later, after the search parties had combed through every thicket and hollow, that they found her. What remained of Leah was barely recognizable, the evidence of a brutal mauling undeniable. The authorities concluded it was likely a bear attack, but Dad... he never accepted that explanation. He had seen the tracks, too large and oddly shaped for any bear.
As I load another round, the memory flashes, unbidden and unwelcome. Large, hairy clawed hands reaching out towards us, impossibly big, grotesque in their form. Yet, the rest of the creature eludes me, a shadow just beyond the edge of my recall, leaving me with nothing but fragmented terrors and Leah’s haunting, echoing screams. My mind blocked most of it out, a self-defense mechanism, I guess.
For years after that day, sleep was a battleground. I'd wake up in strange places—kitchen floor, backyard, even at the edge of the nearby creek. My therapist said it was my mind's way of trying to resolve the unresolved, to wander back through the woods searching for Leah. But all I found in those sleepless nights was a deeper sense of loss.
It took time, a lot of therapy, and patience I didn't know I had, but the sleepwalking did eventually stop. I guess I started to find some semblance of peace.
I have mostly moved on with my life. The fragmentary memories of that day are still there, lurking in the corners of my mind, but they don’t dominate my thoughts like they used to. I just finished my sophomore year at Michigan State, majoring in Environmental Science.
As for Dad, the loss of Leah broke him. He became a shell of himself. It destroyed his marriage with Mom. He blamed himself for letting us out of his sight, for not protecting Leah. His life took on a single, consuming focus: finding the creature that killed her. He read every book, every article on cryptids and unexplained phenomena. He mapped sightings, connected dots across blurry photos and shaky testimonies of the Dogman.
But as the tenth anniversary of Leah’s death approaches, Dad's obsession has grown more intense. He’s started staying up late, poring over his maps and notes, muttering to himself about patterns and cycles. He’s convinced that the dogman reappears every ten years, and this is our window of opportunity to finally hunt it down.
I’m not nearly as convinced. The whole dogman thing seems like a coping mechanism, a way for Dad to channel his guilt and grief into something tangible, something he can fight against. But I decided to tag along on this trip, partly to keep an eye on him, partly because a small part of me hopes that maybe, just maybe, we’ll find some kind of closure out there in the woods.
I finish loading the rifle and set it aside, standing up to stretch my legs. I wipe my greasy hands on an old rag, trying to get rid of the smell. The early morning light is starting to seep into the room, casting long shadows across the floor.
Dad comes out of the kitchen with two thermoses of coffee in hand. His eyes are bleary and tired.
“You ready, Ryan?” he asks, handing me a thermos, his voice rough from too many sleepless nights.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” I reply, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
We load our gear into the truck, the weight of our supplies and weapons a physical reminder of the burden we carry. The drive from Lansing across the Lower Peninsula is long and quiet, the silence between us filled with unspoken memories and unresolved grief.
—
The drive north is a blur of highway lines and the dull hum of the engine. I drift off, the landscape outside blending into a haze. In my sleep, fragments of that day with Leah replay like scattered pieces of a puzzle. I see her smile, the way she tugged at my sleeve, eager to explore. The sunlight filters through the trees in sharp, jagged streaks.
Then, the memory shifts—darker, disjointed. Leah's voice echoes, a playful laugh turning into a scream that pierces the air. The crunch of leaves underfoot as something heavy moves through the underbrush. I see a shadow, large and looming, not quite fitting the shapes of any creature I know.
Then, something darker creeps into the dream, something I’ve never allowed myself to remember clearly.
Before I can see what it is I wake up with a start as the truck jerks slightly on a rough patch of road. Dad glances over. "Bad dream?" he asks. I nod, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, the remnants of the dream clinging to me like the cold.
"Yeah, just... thinking about Leah," I manage to say.
As we drive, Dad attempts to bridge the silence with small talk. He asks about my finals, my plans for the summer, anything to keep the conversation going. His voice carries a forced cheerfulness, but it’s clear his heart isn’t in it. I respond when necessary, my answers brief, my gaze fixed on the passing scenery.
The landscape changes as we head further north, from flat expanses to rolling hills dotted with dense patches of forest. It's beautiful country, the kind that reminds you how vast and wild Michigan can be, but today it just feels oppressive, like it’s closing in on us.
—
We finally arrive at the cabin, nestled deep in the woods, its weathered wood blending seamlessly with the surrounding trees. The place hasn't changed much since the last time I was here—a relic from another time, filled with the echoes of our past. I can still see Leah running around the porch, her laughter ringing out into the forest.
Dad parks the truck, and we step out into the crisp air. The smell of pine and damp earth fills my nostrils. We start unloading our gear, the tension between us palpable.
“Let’s get this inside,” Dad says, his voice gruff as he hefts a duffel bag onto his shoulder.
I nod, grabbing my own bag and following him to the cabin. Inside, it’s a mix of old and new—the same rustic furniture, but with new hunting gear and maps strewn across the table. Dad’s obsession is evident in every corner of the room, a constant reminder of why we’re here.
As we unpack, we exchange strained attempts at normalcy. He talks about the latest cryptid sightings he’s read about, his eyes lighting up with a fervor that both worries and saddens me.
“Did you hear about the sighting up near Alpena?” he asks, laying out his maps on the table.
“Yeah, you mentioned it,” I reply, trying to muster some enthusiasm. “Do you really think there’s something to it?”
Dad’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see a flicker of doubt. But it’s quickly replaced by grim determination. “I have to believe it, Ryan. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
We finish unpacking, the silence between us growing heavier with each passing minute. I step outside to clear my head, the cool air a welcome relief. The sun is starting to set, casting long shadows across the clearing. I can’t shake the feeling of unease.
"You can take the upstairs room," Dad mutters. His voice is strained, trying to sound normal, but it's clear the weight of the past is heavy on him. I nod, hauling my backpack up the creaking stairs to the small bedroom that I used to share with Leah. The room feels smaller now, or maybe I've just grown too much since those innocent days.
I unpack silently, setting my things aside. The bed is stiff and cold under my touch. As I settle in, I can't help but glance at the corner where Leah and I would huddle together, whispering secrets and making plans for adventures that would never happen. I push the thoughts away, focusing on the practicalities of unpacking.
After settling in, I go back downstairs to find Dad loading up a backpack with supplies for our hunt. The intensity in his eyes is palpable, his hands moving with practiced precision. I know this routine; it's one he's perfected over countless solo trips since that fateful day.
"We'll head out early," he says, not looking up from his task. "Gotta make the most of the daylight."
I nod, though unease curls in my stomach. I'm not just worried about what we might find—or not find—out there. I'm worried about him. Each year, the obsession seems to carve him out a bit more, leaving less of the Dad I knew.
—
The morning air is sharp with the scent of pine and wet earth as Dad and I head into the deeper parts of the forest. The terrain is rugged, familiar in its untamed beauty, but there’s a tension between us that makes the landscape feel alien. Dad moves with a purposeful stride, his eyes scanning the woods around us. Every snap of a twig, every rustle in the underbrush seems to draw his attention. He’s on edge, and it puts me on edge too.
As we walk, my mind drifts back to that day ten years ago. I can almost hear Leah’s voice echoing through the trees, her high-pitched call as she darted ahead, "Catch me, Ryan!" I remember how the sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dancing shadows on the ground. Those memories are so vivid, so tangible, it feels like I could just turn a corner and see her there, waiting for us.
Dad suddenly stops and kneels, examining the ground. He points out a set of tracks that are too large for a deer, with an unusual gait pattern. "It’s been here, Ry. I’m telling you, it’s close," he whispers, a mixture of excitement and something darker in his voice. I nod, though I’m not sure what to believe. Part of me wants to dismiss it all as grief-fueled obsession, but another part, the part that heard Leah's scream and saw something monstrous in the woods that day, isn’t so sure.
As we continue, Dad's comments become increasingly cryptic. "You know, they say the dogman moves in cycles, drawn to certain places, certain times. Like it’s tied to the land itself," he muses, more to himself than to me. His fixation on the creature has always been intense, but now it borders on mania.
We set up a makeshift blind near a clearing where Dad insists the creature will pass. Hours drag by with little to see but the occasional bird or distant deer.
The sun rises higher in the sky, casting long, slender shadows through the dense canopy. I shift uncomfortably in my spot, the forest floor hard and unyielding beneath me. My eyes dart between the trees, hoping to catch a glimpse of something, anything, to break the monotony. Dad, on the other hand, remains steadfast, his gaze fixed on the treeline as if he can will the dogman into existence by sheer force of will.
A bird chirps nearby, startling me. I sigh and adjust my grip on the rifle. I glance over at Dad.
“Anything?” I ask, more out of boredom than genuine curiosity.
“Not yet,” he replies, his voice tight. “But it’s out there. I know it.”
I nod, even though I’m not sure I believe him. The forest seems too quiet, too still. Maybe we’re chasing ghosts.
As the sun begins its descent, the forest is bathed in a warm, golden light. The air cools, and a breeze rustles the leaves. I shiver, more from anticipation than the cold. The long hours of sitting and waiting are starting to wear on me.
“Let’s call it a day for now,” Dad says finally, his voice heavy with disappointment. “We’ll head back to the cabin, get some rest, and try again tomorrow.”
I stand and stretch, feeling the stiffness in my muscles. We pack up our gear in silence and start the trek back to the cabin. The walk is long and quiet, the only sounds are the crunch of leaves underfoot and the distant calls of birds settling in for the night.
—
Dinner is a quiet affair, both of us lost in our thoughts. I try to make small talk, asking Dad about his plans for tomorrow, but it feels forced. We clean up in silence.
After dinner, I retreat to the small bedroom. The fatigue from the day's hike has settled into my bones, but sleep still feels like a distant hope. I lie down, staring at the ceiling, the room cloaked in darkness save for the sliver of moonlight creeping through the window. Downstairs, I hear the faint sound of Dad moving around, likely unable to sleep himself.
I drift into sleep, but it's not restful. My dreams pull me back to that fateful day in the woods. Leah's voice is clear and vibrant, her laughter echoing through the trees. She looks just as she did then—bright-eyed and full of life, her blonde hair catching the sunlight as she runs ahead of me.
"Come on, Ry! You can't catch me!" she taunts, her voice playful and teasing.
I chase after her, but the scene shifts abruptly. The sky darkens, the woods around us growing dense and foreboding. Leah's laughter fades, replaced by a chilling silence. I see her ahead, standing still, her back to me.
"Leah?" I call out, my voice trembling. She turns slowly, her eyes wide and filled with fear. "Ryan, you have to remember," she says, her voice barely a whisper. "It wasn't what you think. You need to know the truth."
Leah’s words hang in the air, cryptic and unsettling. Before I can respond, she turns and starts running again, her figure becoming a blur among the trees. Panic rises in my chest as I sprint after her, my feet pounding against the forest floor.
“Leah, wait!” I shout, desperation lacing my voice. The forest around me seems to close in, the trees towering and twisted, shadows dancing menacingly in the dim light. I push forward, trying to keep her in sight, but she’s too fast, slipping away like a wisp of smoke.
Suddenly, there’s a rustle, a flash of movement in the corner of my vision. Leah screams, a sound that pierces through the heavy silence. It happens too quickly—I can’t see what it is, only a dark blur that snatches her up.
“Leah!” I scream, my voice breaking. I stumble, falling to my knees as the forest spins around me. My heart races, and the terror is so real, so visceral, that it pulls me back to that awful day, the one that changed everything.
I jolt awake, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
I sit up, wiping the cold sweat from my forehead as I try to steady my breathing. The room is still dark, the shadows cast by the moonlight seem to flicker and dance on the walls. My heart is still racing from the nightmare, the echo of Leah's scream lingering in my ears.
As I struggle to calm down, the floorboards outside my room creak. The door opens slowly, and I see the silhouette of my dad in the doorway, a Bowie knife in his hand, his posture tense.
“Dad, what the hell are you doing?” I whisper, my voice shaking.
“Shh,” he hisses, holding up a hand to silence me. “I heard something. Something moving around in the cabin. Stay quiet.”
I swallow hard, my mouth dry. I glance at the clock on the nightstand—it’s just past three in the morning. The cabin is silent, the kind of deep, oppressive silence that makes every small sound seem louder. I can’t hear anything out of the ordinary, but Dad’s expression is deadly serious.
He motions for me to get up, and I do, moving as quietly as I can. My heart is racing, a mix of lingering fear from the dream and the sudden, sharp anxiety of the present moment. Dad leads the way, stepping cautiously out of the bedroom and into the hallway, the knife held ready in front of him.
We move through the cabin, checking each room in turn. The living room is empty, the furniture casting long shadows in the dim moonlight. The kitchen is just as we left it, the plates from dinner still drying on the counter. Everything seems normal, untouched.
We finish our sweep of the cabin without finding anything amiss. The silence is heavy, punctuated only by our soft footfalls. I can see the tension in Dad’s frame, his grip on the knife unwavering. After checking the last room, we pause in the dimly lit hallway, the air thick with unspoken questions.
“There’s nothing here,” I say, my voice low. “Are you sure you heard something?”
He looks at me, his eyes searching for something in my face. “I heard growling. Deep and close. It was right outside the window.”
“Maybe it was just an animal outside, a raccoon or something?” I suggest, although the certainty in his voice makes me doubt my own reassurance.
“No, it wasn’t like that. It was different,” he insists, his voice tense.
I nod, not wanting to argue, but the seeds of worry are planted deep.
The look in his eyes sends a chill down my spine. It’s not just fear—it’s desperation. The kind of desperation that comes from years of chasing shadows and finding nothing. I can see the toll this hunt has taken on him, the way it’s worn him down, turned him into a man I barely recognize.
We head back to our rooms. As I lie down, my mind races with thoughts of my dad. I can’t help but wonder if he’s losing it, if the years of grief and guilt have finally pushed him over the edge.
Dad wasn’t always like this. Before Leah’s death, he was the kind of father who took us fishing, helped with homework, and told terrible jokes that made us groan and laugh at the same time. He was solid, dependable. But losing Leah changed him. The guilt twisted him into someone I barely recognize, someone driven by a need for answers, for closure, that may never come.
I try to sleep, but my thoughts keep me awake. I can hear Dad moving around downstairs, probably pacing or double-checking the locks. His paranoia has become a constant presence, and I don’t know how to help him. I don’t even know if I can help him.
—
The next morning, the sunlight filters weakly through the cabin windows, casting a pale light that does little to lift the heavy mood. I drag myself out of bed, feeling the exhaustion of another restless night. Dad is already up, hunched over his maps at the kitchen table, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep.
“Morning,” I mumble, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I pour myself a cup of coffee. “Did you sleep at all?”
He shakes his head, not looking up from his notes. “Not much. I couldn’t stop thinking about what I heard last night.”
I sip my coffee, trying to shake off the remnants of my nightmare. “Maybe it was just an animal, Dad. We’re deep in the woods, after all.”
He finally looks up, his eyes intense. “Ryan, I know what I heard. It wasn’t just an animal. It was something else.”
I sigh, not wanting to argue. “Okay, fine, Dad. What’s the plan for today?”
“We’re going back out. I found some tracks yesterday, and I want to follow them. See where they lead.”
I nod, feeling a mix of apprehension and resignation. I can see how much this means to him, how desperate he is for any kind of lead. “Alright. Let’s get packed and head out.”
We spend the morning preparing, loading up our gear and double-checking our supplies. Dad is meticulous, going over everything with a fine-toothed comb. I try to match his focus, but my mind keeps drifting back to Leah and the dream I had. Her words echo in my head, cryptic and unsettling: “You need to know the truth.”
We set off into the woods, the air crisp and cool. The forest is alive with the sounds of birds and rustling leaves, but it all feels distant, like background noise to the tension between us. Dad leads the way, his eyes scanning the ground for any sign of the tracks he found yesterday.
As we walk, I can’t help but notice how erratically he’s acting. He mutters to himself, his eyes darting around as if expecting something to jump out at us. His grip on his rifle is tight, his knuckles white.
“Dad, are you okay?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
He glances at me, his expression unreadable. “I’m fine. Just focused.”
He stops frequently to examine the ground or the bark of trees, pointing out marks and signs that seem meaningless to me.
“Look at this,” he says, crouching down to examine a broken branch. “See how it’s snapped? That’s not a deer or a bear. That’s something bigger. Stronger.”
I crouch next to Dad, squinting at the broken branch. To me, it just looks like a regular broken branch, the kind you see all over the forest. "I don't know, Dad. It just looks like a branch to me," I say, trying to keep my voice neutral.
Dad's eyes flicker with frustration. "You're not looking close enough. It's the way it's snapped—too clean, too deliberate. Something did this."
I nod, not wanting to argue. "Okay, sure. But even if you're right, it could be anything. A storm, another hunter..."
His expression hardens. "I know what I'm looking for. This is different."
I sigh, feeling the weight of the past and the tension between us pressing down on me. "Dad, I had a dream last night. About Leah." The words hang in the air between us, heavy and fraught with unspoken emotions.
Dad's eyes widen, and he straightens up, his entire demeanor shifting. "What kind of dream? What did you see?" His voice is urgent, almost desperate.
"It was... strange. We were in the woods, like we are now, but everything felt different. Leah was there, running ahead of me, laughing. Then she stopped and told me I needed to know the truth, that it wasn't what I thought."
Dad grabs my shoulders, his grip tight. "What else did she say? Did she tell you anything specific? Anything about the creature?"
I shake my head, feeling a chill run down my spine. "No, that was it. She just said I needed to know the truth, and then she was gone."
Dad’s grip on my shoulders tightens, and his eyes bore into mine with a mixture of desperation and hope. “Ryan, you have to try to remember. Think hard. What did the creature look like? Did you see anything else?”
I pull back slightly, uneasy with his intensity. “Dad, I told you. I don’t remember. It was just a dream. A nightmare, really. My mind’s probably just mixing things up.”
He lets go of me and runs a hand through his hair, looking frustrated and lost. “Dreams can be important. They can hold memories we’ve buried deep. Please, try to remember. This could be a sign, a clue.”
I rub my temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “I’ve tried, okay? I’ve tried for years to piece together what happened that day. But it’s all just fragments, like pieces of a puzzle that don’t fit. The dream… it felt real, but I don’t think it’s telling me anything new.”
Dad’s face falls, and he looks older than I’ve ever seen him. He turns away, staring into the forest as if it holds all the answers.
—
As we make our way back to the cabin, the sun begins to set, casting long shadows through the trees. The air grows colder, and I shiver, pulling my jacket tighter around me. Dad is silent, lost in his thoughts, his face drawn and haggard.
Back at the cabin, we unload our gear once again in silence. Dad disappears into his room, muttering something about going over his notes. I decide to explore the cabin, hoping to find something that might help me understand what’s going on with him.
In the attic, I find a box of old family photos and documents. As I sift through the contents, I come across a worn journal with Dad’s handwriting on the cover. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I open it, flipping through the pages.
The journal is filled with notes and sketches, detailing his obsession with the dogman. But there’s something else—entries that talk about Leah, about that day in the woods. His handwriting becomes more erratic, the words harder to read. One entry stands out, dated just a few days after Leah’s death:
“June 15, 2013 – It was supposed to be a normal trip. Keep them close, Frank, I kept telling myself. But I failed. Leah is gone, and it’s my fault. I heard her scream, saw the shadows. I tried to get to her, but… the thing, it was there. Too fast. Too strong. My hands… blood everywhere. No one will believe me. I can’t even believe myself. I have to find it. I have to protect Ryan. I have to make it right. God, what have I done?”
Before I can read further, the attic door creaks open, and Dad’s voice slices through the stillness.
“What are you doing up here?” His tone is sharp, almost panicked.
I turn to see him standing in the doorway, his face pale and his eyes wide with something between anger and fear. I clutch the journal to my chest, my mind racing. “I found this… I was just trying to understand…”
In an instant, he crosses the room and snatches the journal from my hands. His grip is tight, his knuckles white. “You had no right,” he growls, his voice trembling.
“Dad, I just wanted to know the truth!” I shout, frustration boiling over. “What really happened to Leah.”
His eyes flash with a mix of rage and anguish, and before I can react, he slaps me across the face. The force of it knocks me off balance, and I stumble backward, my cheek stinging.
For a moment, there’s a stunned silence. We both stand there, breathing hard, the air thick with tension.
“I’m sorry,” Dad says finally, his voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t mean to… I just…” He trails off, clutching the journal to his chest like a lifeline.
I touch my cheek, feeling the heat from the slap, and take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “Dad, what aren’t you telling me? What really happened that day?”
“Stay out of it, Ryan,” Dad growls, his eyes dark with anger. “You don’t know what you’re messing with.”
He turns and storms out of the attic. I’m left standing there, my cheek throbbing, my mind racing. What the fuck is going on? What really happened to Leah? And what is Dad so afraid of?
—
That night, I sleep with my rifle within arm's reach, more afraid of my dad than any dogman. The slap still burns on my cheek, and the look in his eyes—rage, fear, something darker—haunts me. I lie awake, listening to the creaks and groans of the old cabin, every sound amplified in the stillness. Eventually, exhaustion pulls me under, and I fall into a restless sleep.
The dream returns, vivid and unsettling. I'm back in the woods, chasing after Leah. Her laughter echoes through the trees, a haunting reminder of happier times. This time, though, I push myself harder, refusing to let her slip away.
"Ryan, catch me!" she calls, her voice playful.
"I'm coming, Leah!" I shout, my legs pumping, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
The forest around us is a twisted, shadowy maze, the trees seeming to close in on us. Leah's figure becomes clearer, her blonde hair catching the dim light filtering through the canopy. She stops suddenly, turning to face me, her eyes wide with fear.
"Leah, what is it?" I ask, my voice trembling.
"Look behind you," she whispers, her voice barely audible.
I turn slowly, dread creeping up my spine. In the shadows, I see a figure, its form indistinct and shifting. It’s not quite animal, not quite human—something in between. The sight of it sends a jolt of terror through me, and I wake up with a start, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
I’m not in my bed. The ground beneath me is cold and hard, the smell of damp earth filling my nostrils. Panic rises as I realize I’ve sleepwalked into the woods. I scramble to my feet, my eyes adjusting to the dim light. The moon casts a pale glow over the surroundings, revealing what looks like a long-abandoned animal lair.
The walls are covered in giant claw marks, deep gouges in the wood and earth. The air is heavy with the scent of decay, and a chill runs through me. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched.
Carefully, I start to move, my eyes scanning the ground, desperate for a familiar landmark. That's when I see them—faded scraps of fabric caught on the jagged edges of the underbrush. My steps falter, a sense of dread washing over me as I bend down to examine them. The fabric is torn, weathered by time and the elements, but unmistakably familiar. It's part of Leah's jacket—the bright pink one she wore on the day she disappeared.
As I strain to make sense of it all, a rustling sound behind me snaps my focus. My heart leaps into my throat. I spin around, my hand instinctively reaching for the rifle I don't have—because, of course, I didn't bring it in my unconscious state.
The shadowy figure that emerges from the trees is unsettlingly familiar, mirroring the menacing forms of my nightmares. But as it steps into the moonlight, I recognize the worn jacket, the weary posture. It's Dad.
"Ryan!" he calls out, his voice a mix of relief and stern concern. "I've been looking everywhere for you. What the hell are you doing out here?"
I exhale slowly, the terror ebbing away as reality sets back in. "I—I don't know, Dad. I must've sleepwalked again." My voice is shaky, my earlier dream still clinging to the edges of my consciousness.
Dad stares at me in disbelief. "You haven't sleepwalked since you were a kid, Ry. This... this isn't just a coincidence." His eyes dart around, taking in the surroundings—the eerie, claw-marked den, the unsettling quiet of the woods. "How did you even find this place?"
I shake my head, struggling to find an answer. "I don't know, Dad. I just... I woke up here." The uncertainty in my voice does nothing to ease the tension.
His eyes lock onto the tattered remains of Leah's jacket in my hands, and something inside him snaps. The color drains from his face as he stumbles a few steps backward. "This... this is where it happened," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper. “This is where we found Leah."
“I thought you said you don’t remember anything from that night,” he says accusingly.
"I swear, Dad, I don't know anything about this place," I insist, my own heart pounding.
“It was you, wasn’t it? You’ve been hiding this from me.” His voice is frantic. “You... last night, the growling, it was you.” His voice rises, tinged with hysteria.
I step back, my pulse racing, feeling the chill of the night and the weight of his accusation. "Dad, I don't know what you're talking ab—”
"No!" he interrupts, his voice breaking as he points a trembling finger at me. "You knew, you always knew. It was you, Ryan. All these years, the evidence was right there, but I refused to see it. You were the dogman. You killed Leah!"
His words hit me like a physical blow, absurd and horrifying in their implications. "Dad, you're not making any sense. You're talking crazy! I was just a little kid! How could I–" I protest, my voice shaky.
He steps closer, his presence looming over me, the outline of his figure distorted by the shadows of the trees. "Think about it! It all makes sense now. You led us here, to this place, because you remember. Because you did it."
"Dad, stop it!" I shout, my heart pounding in my chest. "You're scaring me. You need help, professional help. This isn't you."
But he's beyond reason, his eyes wild with a haunted grief. "I have to end this," he mutters, more to himself than to me, his hand tightening around his rifle.
His finger hovers dangerously over the trigger of his rifle. My instincts kick in, and I know I have to act fast.
I lunge toward him, trying to knock the weapon away, but he's quicker than I expected. We struggle, our breaths heavy in the cold night air, the sounds of our scuffle the only noise in the otherwise silent woods. His strength surprises me, fueled by his frantic emotions. He shoves me back, and I stumble over a root, my balance lost for a crucial second. That's all he needs. He raises his rifle, his intentions clear in his wild, pained eyes.
I dive to the ground just as the shot rings out, a deafening blast that echoes ominously through the trees. The bullet whizzes past, narrowly missing me, embedding itself in the bark of an old pine. I scramble to my feet, my heart pounding in my ears, and I start running. The underbrush claws at my clothes and skin, but I push through, driven by a primal urge to survive.
"Dad, stop! It's me, Ryan!" I shout back as I dodge between the trees. Another shot breaks the silence, closer this time, sending splinters of wood flying from a nearby tree trunk. It's surreal, being hunted by my own father, a man tormented by grief and lost in his delusions.
I don't stop to look back. I can hear him crashing through the forest behind me, his heavy breaths and muttered curses carried on the wind. The terrain is rough, and I'm fueled by adrenaline, but exhaustion is setting in. I need a plan.
Ahead, I see a rocky outcrop and make a split-second decision to head for it. It offers a chance to hide, to catch my breath and maybe reason with him if he catches up. As I reach the rocks, I slip behind the largest one, my body pressed tight against the cold, damp surface. I hear his footsteps approaching, slow and cautious now.
As I press against the rock, trying to calm my racing heart, I can hear Dad's footsteps drawing closer, each step crunching ominously on the forest floor. He's methodical, deliberate, like a hunter stalking his prey.
“Come out, Ryan!” Dad’s voice is ragged, filled with a blend of fury and pain.
My heart pounds against my chest, the cold sweat on my back making me shiver against the rough surface of the rock. I know I can't just sit here; it's only a matter of time before he finds me.
Taking a deep breath, I peek around the edge of the rock, trying to gauge his position. I see him, rifle raised, scanning the area slowly. This might be my only chance to end this madness without further violence. I need to disarm him, to talk some sense into him if I can.
As quietly as I can, I move out from behind the rock, my steps careful to avoid any twigs or leaves that might betray my position. I'm almost upon him when a branch snaps under my foot—a sound so trivial yet so alarmingly loud in the quiet of the woods.
Dad whirls around, looking completely unhinged. "Ryan!" he exclaims, his rifle swinging in my direction. Panic overtakes me, and I lunge forward, my hands reaching for the gun.
We struggle, the rifle between us, our breaths heavy and erratic. "Dad, please, stop!" I plead, trying to wrestle the gun away. But he's strong, stronger than I expected.
In the chaos, the rifle goes off. The sound is deafening, a sharp echo that seems to reverberate off every tree around us. Pain explodes in my abdomen, sharp and burning, like nothing I've ever felt before. I stagger back, my hands instinctively going to the wound. The warmth of my own blood coats my fingers, stark and terrifying.
Dad drops the rifle, his eyes wide with horror. "Oh my God! What have I done?" he gasps, rushing to my side as I collapse onto the forest floor.
As the pain sears through me, a strange, overpowering energy surges within. It's wild, primal, unlike anything I've ever experienced. Looking down in horror, my hands are no longer hands but large, hairy, clawed appendages. The transformation is rapid, consuming—my vision blurs, senses heighten, and a raw, guttural growl builds in my throat.
In that moment, a flood of understanding washes over me, mingling with the horror of realization. These are the hands of the creature from my nightmares, the creature whose face I can never fully recall because, as I now understand, it is me.
What happens next feels detached, as if I'm no longer in control of my own actions, watching from a distance as my body moves on its own. I turn towards my dad, his face a mask of terror. He stumbles back, his eyes wide with the dawning realization of what his son has become.
The forest around us seems to fall silent, holding its breath as the nightmarish scene unfolds. I can hear my own growls, guttural and deep, filling the air with a sound that's both foreign and intimately familiar. The pain in my abdomen fuels a dark, violent urge, an urge that's too strong to resist.
With a ferocity that feels both alien and intrinsic, I move towards him. My dad, paralyzed by fear and shock, doesn't run. Maybe he can't. Maybe he doesn't want to.
The encounter is brutal and swift, a blur of motion and violence. My dad barely puts up a struggle, as though resigned to his fate.
Not that there is anything he can do. The creature that I’ve become is too powerful, too consumed by the wild instincts surging through me. I tear him apart, limb from bloody limb, my hands—no, my claws—rending through fabric and flesh with disgusting ease.
The sound of my dad’s screams, of tearing fabric and flesh is drowned out by the animalistic growls that echo through the trees.
When it’s all over, the red mist that had clouded my vision begins to fade, and the fierce, uncontrollable rage that drove my actions subsides. I'm left standing, my breaths heavy and erratic, in the eerie stillness of the forest. The transformation reverses as quickly as it came on, and I find myself back in my human form. My clothes are ripped to shreds, hanging off my frame in tattered remnants. At my feet lies what’s left of my dad, his body torn and unrecognizable.
I glance down at my abdomen, expecting agony, but instead find my wound miraculously healed. No sign of the gunshot remains, just a faint scar where I expected a bloody mess.
Shock sets in, a numbing disbelief mixed with a gut-wrenching realization of what I've become and what I've done. My hands, now human again, tremble as I look at them, half-expecting to see the claws that had so effortlessly ripped through flesh and bone. But there's only blood, my father's blood against my skin.
I stand there for what feels like an eternity, trapped in a nightmare of my own making.
Eventually, the shock wears thin, and a cold practicality takes hold. I need to get out of here. I need to cover my tracks, to disappear. Because who would believe this? Who would understand that I didn't choose this, that I'm not a monster by choice?
With trembling hands, I do what’s necessary. I bury my dad in a shallow grave, the physical act of digging strangely grounding. I cover him with leaves and branches, a pitiful attempt to hide the brutality of his end. I take a moment, whispering apologies into the wind, knowing full well that nothing I say can change what happened.
I leave the forest behind, my mind a whirl of dark thoughts. As I walk, the first hints of dawn brush against the horizon, the sky bleeding a soft pink. It’s hauntingly beautiful.
submitted by PageTurner627 to Odd_directions [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 20:10 PageTurner627 My Dad and I Hunted Down the Dogman that Killed My Sister

I’ve always hated the smell of gun oil. It clings to everything it touches, soaking deep into the fibers of my clothes, the lining of my backpack, the coarse hair on the back of my hands. Yet here I am, kneeling on the cracked linoleum of our mudroom, a Remington .308 laid across my thighs, and the stench of gun oil sharp in my nostrils. The early morning light barely scratches at the edges of the blinds, dim and gray like the belly of a dead fish.
My dad Frank is in the kitchen, clattering around with the coffeepot and mumbling under his breath. Today we’re heading up to the woods of Northern Michigan, same as we did every year before Leah… before we lost her.
I can’t help but feel the old scars throbbing as I load bullets into the magazine. It’s been ten years since that hunting trip, the one that tore my family into before and after. Before, when Leah's laughter was a constant soundtrack to our lives; after, when every silence was filled with her absence.
We were just kids back then. I was ten, Leah was eight. It was supposed to be a typical hunting trip, one of those bonding experiences Dad was always talking about. But things went wrong. We got separated from Dad somehow. One minute we were following him, the next we were lost, the dense woods closing in around us.
Dad says when he found me, I was huddled under a fallen tree, my eyes wide, my body frozen. All I could mutter through chattering teeth was "Dogman."
It was only later, after the search parties had combed through every thicket and hollow, that they found her. What remained of Leah was barely recognizable, the evidence of a brutal mauling undeniable. The authorities concluded it was likely a bear attack, but Dad... he never accepted that explanation. He had seen the tracks, too large and oddly shaped for any bear.
As I load another round, the memory flashes, unbidden and unwelcome. Large, hairy clawed hands reaching out towards us, impossibly big, grotesque in their form. Yet, the rest of the creature eludes me, a shadow just beyond the edge of my recall, leaving me with nothing but fragmented terrors and Leah’s haunting, echoing screams. My mind blocked most of it out, a self-defense mechanism, I guess.
For years after that day, sleep was a battleground. I'd wake up in strange places—kitchen floor, backyard, even at the edge of the nearby creek. My therapist said it was my mind's way of trying to resolve the unresolved, to wander back through the woods searching for Leah. But all I found in those sleepless nights was a deeper sense of loss.
It took time, a lot of therapy, and patience I didn't know I had, but the sleepwalking did eventually stop. I guess I started to find some semblance of peace.
I have mostly moved on with my life. The fragmentary memories of that day are still there, lurking in the corners of my mind, but they don’t dominate my thoughts like they used to. I just finished my sophomore year at Michigan State, majoring in Environmental Science.
As for Dad, the loss of Leah broke him. He became a shell of himself. It destroyed his marriage with Mom. He blamed himself for letting us out of his sight, for not protecting Leah. His life took on a single, consuming focus: finding the creature that killed her. He read every book, every article on cryptids and unexplained phenomena. He mapped sightings, connected dots across blurry photos and shaky testimonies of the Dogman.
But as the tenth anniversary of Leah’s death approaches, Dad's obsession has grown more intense. He’s started staying up late, poring over his maps and notes, muttering to himself about patterns and cycles. He’s convinced that the dogman reappears every ten years, and this is our window of opportunity to finally hunt it down.
I’m not nearly as convinced. The whole dogman thing seems like a coping mechanism, a way for Dad to channel his guilt and grief into something tangible, something he can fight against. But I decided to tag along on this trip, partly to keep an eye on him, partly because a small part of me hopes that maybe, just maybe, we’ll find some kind of closure out there in the woods.
I finish loading the rifle and set it aside, standing up to stretch my legs. I wipe my greasy hands on an old rag, trying to get rid of the smell. The early morning light is starting to seep into the room, casting long shadows across the floor.
Dad comes out of the kitchen with two thermoses of coffee in hand. His eyes are bleary and tired.
“You ready, Ryan?” he asks, handing me a thermos, his voice rough from too many sleepless nights.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” I reply, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
We load our gear into the truck, the weight of our supplies and weapons a physical reminder of the burden we carry. The drive from Lansing across the Lower Peninsula is long and quiet, the silence between us filled with unspoken memories and unresolved grief.
—
The drive north is a blur of highway lines and the dull hum of the engine. I drift off, the landscape outside blending into a haze. In my sleep, fragments of that day with Leah replay like scattered pieces of a puzzle. I see her smile, the way she tugged at my sleeve, eager to explore. The sunlight filters through the trees in sharp, jagged streaks.
Then, the memory shifts—darker, disjointed. Leah's voice echoes, a playful laugh turning into a scream that pierces the air. The crunch of leaves underfoot as something heavy moves through the underbrush. I see a shadow, large and looming, not quite fitting the shapes of any creature I know.
Then, something darker creeps into the dream, something I’ve never allowed myself to remember clearly.
Before I can see what it is I wake up with a start as the truck jerks slightly on a rough patch of road. Dad glances over. "Bad dream?" he asks. I nod, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, the remnants of the dream clinging to me like the cold.
"Yeah, just... thinking about Leah," I manage to say.
As we drive, Dad attempts to bridge the silence with small talk. He asks about my finals, my plans for the summer, anything to keep the conversation going. His voice carries a forced cheerfulness, but it’s clear his heart isn’t in it. I respond when necessary, my answers brief, my gaze fixed on the passing scenery.
The landscape changes as we head further north, from flat expanses to rolling hills dotted with dense patches of forest. It's beautiful country, the kind that reminds you how vast and wild Michigan can be, but today it just feels oppressive, like it’s closing in on us.
—
We finally arrive at the cabin, nestled deep in the woods, its weathered wood blending seamlessly with the surrounding trees. The place hasn't changed much since the last time I was here—a relic from another time, filled with the echoes of our past. I can still see Leah running around the porch, her laughter ringing out into the forest.
Dad parks the truck, and we step out into the crisp air. The smell of pine and damp earth fills my nostrils. We start unloading our gear, the tension between us palpable.
“Let’s get this inside,” Dad says, his voice gruff as he hefts a duffel bag onto his shoulder.
I nod, grabbing my own bag and following him to the cabin. Inside, it’s a mix of old and new—the same rustic furniture, but with new hunting gear and maps strewn across the table. Dad’s obsession is evident in every corner of the room, a constant reminder of why we’re here.
As we unpack, we exchange strained attempts at normalcy. He talks about the latest cryptid sightings he’s read about, his eyes lighting up with a fervor that both worries and saddens me.
“Did you hear about the sighting up near Alpena?” he asks, laying out his maps on the table.
“Yeah, you mentioned it,” I reply, trying to muster some enthusiasm. “Do you really think there’s something to it?”
Dad’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see a flicker of doubt. But it’s quickly replaced by grim determination. “I have to believe it, Ryan. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
We finish unpacking, the silence between us growing heavier with each passing minute. I step outside to clear my head, the cool air a welcome relief. The sun is starting to set, casting long shadows across the clearing. I can’t shake the feeling of unease.
"You can take the upstairs room," Dad mutters. His voice is strained, trying to sound normal, but it's clear the weight of the past is heavy on him. I nod, hauling my backpack up the creaking stairs to the small bedroom that I used to share with Leah. The room feels smaller now, or maybe I've just grown too much since those innocent days.
I unpack silently, setting my things aside. The bed is stiff and cold under my touch. As I settle in, I can't help but glance at the corner where Leah and I would huddle together, whispering secrets and making plans for adventures that would never happen. I push the thoughts away, focusing on the practicalities of unpacking.
After settling in, I go back downstairs to find Dad loading up a backpack with supplies for our hunt. The intensity in his eyes is palpable, his hands moving with practiced precision. I know this routine; it's one he's perfected over countless solo trips since that fateful day.
"We'll head out early," he says, not looking up from his task. "Gotta make the most of the daylight."
I nod, though unease curls in my stomach. I'm not just worried about what we might find—or not find—out there. I'm worried about him. Each year, the obsession seems to carve him out a bit more, leaving less of the Dad I knew.
—
The morning air is sharp with the scent of pine and wet earth as Dad and I head into the deeper parts of the forest. The terrain is rugged, familiar in its untamed beauty, but there’s a tension between us that makes the landscape feel alien. Dad moves with a purposeful stride, his eyes scanning the woods around us. Every snap of a twig, every rustle in the underbrush seems to draw his attention. He’s on edge, and it puts me on edge too.
As we walk, my mind drifts back to that day ten years ago. I can almost hear Leah’s voice echoing through the trees, her high-pitched call as she darted ahead, "Catch me, Ryan!" I remember how the sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dancing shadows on the ground. Those memories are so vivid, so tangible, it feels like I could just turn a corner and see her there, waiting for us.
Dad suddenly stops and kneels, examining the ground. He points out a set of tracks that are too large for a deer, with an unusual gait pattern. "It’s been here, Ry. I’m telling you, it’s close," he whispers, a mixture of excitement and something darker in his voice. I nod, though I’m not sure what to believe. Part of me wants to dismiss it all as grief-fueled obsession, but another part, the part that heard Leah's scream and saw something monstrous in the woods that day, isn’t so sure.
As we continue, Dad's comments become increasingly cryptic. "You know, they say the dogman moves in cycles, drawn to certain places, certain times. Like it’s tied to the land itself," he muses, more to himself than to me. His fixation on the creature has always been intense, but now it borders on mania.
We set up a makeshift blind near a clearing where Dad insists the creature will pass. Hours drag by with little to see but the occasional bird or distant deer.
The sun rises higher in the sky, casting long, slender shadows through the dense canopy. I shift uncomfortably in my spot, the forest floor hard and unyielding beneath me. My eyes dart between the trees, hoping to catch a glimpse of something, anything, to break the monotony. Dad, on the other hand, remains steadfast, his gaze fixed on the treeline as if he can will the dogman into existence by sheer force of will.
A bird chirps nearby, startling me. I sigh and adjust my grip on the rifle. I glance over at Dad.
“Anything?” I ask, more out of boredom than genuine curiosity.
“Not yet,” he replies, his voice tight. “But it’s out there. I know it.”
I nod, even though I’m not sure I believe him. The forest seems too quiet, too still. Maybe we’re chasing ghosts.
As the sun begins its descent, the forest is bathed in a warm, golden light. The air cools, and a breeze rustles the leaves. I shiver, more from anticipation than the cold. The long hours of sitting and waiting are starting to wear on me.
“Let’s call it a day for now,” Dad says finally, his voice heavy with disappointment. “We’ll head back to the cabin, get some rest, and try again tomorrow.”
I stand and stretch, feeling the stiffness in my muscles. We pack up our gear in silence and start the trek back to the cabin. The walk is long and quiet, the only sounds are the crunch of leaves underfoot and the distant calls of birds settling in for the night.
—
Dinner is a quiet affair, both of us lost in our thoughts. I try to make small talk, asking Dad about his plans for tomorrow, but it feels forced. We clean up in silence.
After dinner, I retreat to the small bedroom. The fatigue from the day's hike has settled into my bones, but sleep still feels like a distant hope. I lie down, staring at the ceiling, the room cloaked in darkness save for the sliver of moonlight creeping through the window. Downstairs, I hear the faint sound of Dad moving around, likely unable to sleep himself.
I drift into sleep, but it's not restful. My dreams pull me back to that fateful day in the woods. Leah's voice is clear and vibrant, her laughter echoing through the trees. She looks just as she did then—bright-eyed and full of life, her blonde hair catching the sunlight as she runs ahead of me.
"Come on, Ry! You can't catch me!" she taunts, her voice playful and teasing.
I chase after her, but the scene shifts abruptly. The sky darkens, the woods around us growing dense and foreboding. Leah's laughter fades, replaced by a chilling silence. I see her ahead, standing still, her back to me.
"Leah?" I call out, my voice trembling. She turns slowly, her eyes wide and filled with fear. "Ryan, you have to remember," she says, her voice barely a whisper. "It wasn't what you think. You need to know the truth."
Leah’s words hang in the air, cryptic and unsettling. Before I can respond, she turns and starts running again, her figure becoming a blur among the trees. Panic rises in my chest as I sprint after her, my feet pounding against the forest floor.
“Leah, wait!” I shout, desperation lacing my voice. The forest around me seems to close in, the trees towering and twisted, shadows dancing menacingly in the dim light. I push forward, trying to keep her in sight, but she’s too fast, slipping away like a wisp of smoke.
Suddenly, there’s a rustle, a flash of movement in the corner of my vision. Leah screams, a sound that pierces through the heavy silence. It happens too quickly—I can’t see what it is, only a dark blur that snatches her up.
“Leah!” I scream, my voice breaking. I stumble, falling to my knees as the forest spins around me. My heart races, and the terror is so real, so visceral, that it pulls me back to that awful day, the one that changed everything.
I jolt awake, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
I sit up, wiping the cold sweat from my forehead as I try to steady my breathing. The room is still dark, the shadows cast by the moonlight seem to flicker and dance on the walls. My heart is still racing from the nightmare, the echo of Leah's scream lingering in my ears.
As I struggle to calm down, the floorboards outside my room creak. The door opens slowly, and I see the silhouette of my dad in the doorway, a Bowie knife in his hand, his posture tense.
“Dad, what the hell are you doing?” I whisper, my voice shaking.
“Shh,” he hisses, holding up a hand to silence me. “I heard something. Something moving around in the cabin. Stay quiet.”
I swallow hard, my mouth dry. I glance at the clock on the nightstand—it’s just past three in the morning. The cabin is silent, the kind of deep, oppressive silence that makes every small sound seem louder. I can’t hear anything out of the ordinary, but Dad’s expression is deadly serious.
He motions for me to get up, and I do, moving as quietly as I can. My heart is racing, a mix of lingering fear from the dream and the sudden, sharp anxiety of the present moment. Dad leads the way, stepping cautiously out of the bedroom and into the hallway, the knife held ready in front of him.
We move through the cabin, checking each room in turn. The living room is empty, the furniture casting long shadows in the dim moonlight. The kitchen is just as we left it, the plates from dinner still drying on the counter. Everything seems normal, untouched.
We finish our sweep of the cabin without finding anything amiss. The silence is heavy, punctuated only by our soft footfalls. I can see the tension in Dad’s frame, his grip on the knife unwavering. After checking the last room, we pause in the dimly lit hallway, the air thick with unspoken questions.
“There’s nothing here,” I say, my voice low. “Are you sure you heard something?”
He looks at me, his eyes searching for something in my face. “I heard growling. Deep and close. It was right outside the window.”
“Maybe it was just an animal outside, a raccoon or something?” I suggest, although the certainty in his voice makes me doubt my own reassurance.
“No, it wasn’t like that. It was different,” he insists, his voice tense.
I nod, not wanting to argue, but the seeds of worry are planted deep.
The look in his eyes sends a chill down my spine. It’s not just fear—it’s desperation. The kind of desperation that comes from years of chasing shadows and finding nothing. I can see the toll this hunt has taken on him, the way it’s worn him down, turned him into a man I barely recognize.
We head back to our rooms. As I lie down, my mind races with thoughts of my dad. I can’t help but wonder if he’s losing it, if the years of grief and guilt have finally pushed him over the edge.
Dad wasn’t always like this. Before Leah’s death, he was the kind of father who took us fishing, helped with homework, and told terrible jokes that made us groan and laugh at the same time. He was solid, dependable. But losing Leah changed him. The guilt twisted him into someone I barely recognize, someone driven by a need for answers, for closure, that may never come.
I try to sleep, but my thoughts keep me awake. I can hear Dad moving around downstairs, probably pacing or double-checking the locks. His paranoia has become a constant presence, and I don’t know how to help him. I don’t even know if I can help him.
—
The next morning, the sunlight filters weakly through the cabin windows, casting a pale light that does little to lift the heavy mood. I drag myself out of bed, feeling the exhaustion of another restless night. Dad is already up, hunched over his maps at the kitchen table, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep.
“Morning,” I mumble, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I pour myself a cup of coffee. “Did you sleep at all?”
He shakes his head, not looking up from his notes. “Not much. I couldn’t stop thinking about what I heard last night.”
I sip my coffee, trying to shake off the remnants of my nightmare. “Maybe it was just an animal, Dad. We’re deep in the woods, after all.”
He finally looks up, his eyes intense. “Ryan, I know what I heard. It wasn’t just an animal. It was something else.”
I sigh, not wanting to argue. “Okay, fine, Dad. What’s the plan for today?”
“We’re going back out. I found some tracks yesterday, and I want to follow them. See where they lead.”
I nod, feeling a mix of apprehension and resignation. I can see how much this means to him, how desperate he is for any kind of lead. “Alright. Let’s get packed and head out.”
We spend the morning preparing, loading up our gear and double-checking our supplies. Dad is meticulous, going over everything with a fine-toothed comb. I try to match his focus, but my mind keeps drifting back to Leah and the dream I had. Her words echo in my head, cryptic and unsettling: “You need to know the truth.”
We set off into the woods, the air crisp and cool. The forest is alive with the sounds of birds and rustling leaves, but it all feels distant, like background noise to the tension between us. Dad leads the way, his eyes scanning the ground for any sign of the tracks he found yesterday.
As we walk, I can’t help but notice how erratically he’s acting. He mutters to himself, his eyes darting around as if expecting something to jump out at us. His grip on his rifle is tight, his knuckles white.
“Dad, are you okay?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
He glances at me, his expression unreadable. “I’m fine. Just focused.”
He stops frequently to examine the ground or the bark of trees, pointing out marks and signs that seem meaningless to me.
“Look at this,” he says, crouching down to examine a broken branch. “See how it’s snapped? That’s not a deer or a bear. That’s something bigger. Stronger.”
I crouch next to Dad, squinting at the broken branch. To me, it just looks like a regular broken branch, the kind you see all over the forest. "I don't know, Dad. It just looks like a branch to me," I say, trying to keep my voice neutral.
Dad's eyes flicker with frustration. "You're not looking close enough. It's the way it's snapped—too clean, too deliberate. Something did this."
I nod, not wanting to argue. "Okay, sure. But even if you're right, it could be anything. A storm, another hunter..."
His expression hardens. "I know what I'm looking for. This is different."
I sigh, feeling the weight of the past and the tension between us pressing down on me. "Dad, I had a dream last night. About Leah." The words hang in the air between us, heavy and fraught with unspoken emotions.
Dad's eyes widen, and he straightens up, his entire demeanor shifting. "What kind of dream? What did you see?" His voice is urgent, almost desperate.
"It was... strange. We were in the woods, like we are now, but everything felt different. Leah was there, running ahead of me, laughing. Then she stopped and told me I needed to know the truth, that it wasn't what I thought."
Dad grabs my shoulders, his grip tight. "What else did she say? Did she tell you anything specific? Anything about the creature?"
I shake my head, feeling a chill run down my spine. "No, that was it. She just said I needed to know the truth, and then she was gone."
Dad’s grip on my shoulders tightens, and his eyes bore into mine with a mixture of desperation and hope. “Ryan, you have to try to remember. Think hard. What did the creature look like? Did you see anything else?”
I pull back slightly, uneasy with his intensity. “Dad, I told you. I don’t remember. It was just a dream. A nightmare, really. My mind’s probably just mixing things up.”
He lets go of me and runs a hand through his hair, looking frustrated and lost. “Dreams can be important. They can hold memories we’ve buried deep. Please, try to remember. This could be a sign, a clue.”
I rub my temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “I’ve tried, okay? I’ve tried for years to piece together what happened that day. But it’s all just fragments, like pieces of a puzzle that don’t fit. The dream… it felt real, but I don’t think it’s telling me anything new.”
Dad’s face falls, and he looks older than I’ve ever seen him. He turns away, staring into the forest as if it holds all the answers.
—
As we make our way back to the cabin, the sun begins to set, casting long shadows through the trees. The air grows colder, and I shiver, pulling my jacket tighter around me. Dad is silent, lost in his thoughts, his face drawn and haggard.
Back at the cabin, we unload our gear once again in silence. Dad disappears into his room, muttering something about going over his notes. I decide to explore the cabin, hoping to find something that might help me understand what’s going on with him.
In the attic, I find a box of old family photos and documents. As I sift through the contents, I come across a worn journal with Dad’s handwriting on the cover. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I open it, flipping through the pages.
The journal is filled with notes and sketches, detailing his obsession with the dogman. But there’s something else—entries that talk about Leah, about that day in the woods. His handwriting becomes more erratic, the words harder to read. One entry stands out, dated just a few days after Leah’s death:
“June 15, 2013 – It was supposed to be a normal trip. Keep them close, Frank, I kept telling myself. But I failed. Leah is gone, and it’s my fault. I heard her scream, saw the shadows. I tried to get to her, but… the thing, it was there. Too fast. Too strong. My hands… blood everywhere. No one will believe me. I can’t even believe myself. I have to find it. I have to protect Ryan. I have to make it right. God, what have I done?”
Before I can read further, the attic door creaks open, and Dad’s voice slices through the stillness.
“What are you doing up here?” His tone is sharp, almost panicked.
I turn to see him standing in the doorway, his face pale and his eyes wide with something between anger and fear. I clutch the journal to my chest, my mind racing. “I found this… I was just trying to understand…”
In an instant, he crosses the room and snatches the journal from my hands. His grip is tight, his knuckles white. “You had no right,” he growls, his voice trembling.
“Dad, I just wanted to know the truth!” I shout, frustration boiling over. “What really happened to Leah.”
His eyes flash with a mix of rage and anguish, and before I can react, he slaps me across the face. The force of it knocks me off balance, and I stumble backward, my cheek stinging.
For a moment, there’s a stunned silence. We both stand there, breathing hard, the air thick with tension.
“I’m sorry,” Dad says finally, his voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t mean to… I just…” He trails off, clutching the journal to his chest like a lifeline.
I touch my cheek, feeling the heat from the slap, and take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “Dad, what aren’t you telling me? What really happened that day?”
“Stay out of it, Ryan,” Dad growls, his eyes dark with anger. “You don’t know what you’re messing with.”
He turns and storms out of the attic. I’m left standing there, my cheek throbbing, my mind racing. What the fuck is going on? What really happened to Leah? And what is Dad so afraid of?
—
That night, I sleep with my rifle within arm's reach, more afraid of my dad than any dogman. The slap still burns on my cheek, and the look in his eyes—rage, fear, something darker—haunts me. I lie awake, listening to the creaks and groans of the old cabin, every sound amplified in the stillness. Eventually, exhaustion pulls me under, and I fall into a restless sleep.
The dream returns, vivid and unsettling. I'm back in the woods, chasing after Leah. Her laughter echoes through the trees, a haunting reminder of happier times. This time, though, I push myself harder, refusing to let her slip away.
"Ryan, catch me!" she calls, her voice playful.
"I'm coming, Leah!" I shout, my legs pumping, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
The forest around us is a twisted, shadowy maze, the trees seeming to close in on us. Leah's figure becomes clearer, her blonde hair catching the dim light filtering through the canopy. She stops suddenly, turning to face me, her eyes wide with fear.
"Leah, what is it?" I ask, my voice trembling.
"Look behind you," she whispers, her voice barely audible.
I turn slowly, dread creeping up my spine. In the shadows, I see a figure, its form indistinct and shifting. It’s not quite animal, not quite human—something in between. The sight of it sends a jolt of terror through me, and I wake up with a start, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
I’m not in my bed. The ground beneath me is cold and hard, the smell of damp earth filling my nostrils. Panic rises as I realize I’ve sleepwalked into the woods. I scramble to my feet, my eyes adjusting to the dim light. The moon casts a pale glow over the surroundings, revealing what looks like a long-abandoned animal lair.
The walls are covered in giant claw marks, deep gouges in the wood and earth. The air is heavy with the scent of decay, and a chill runs through me. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched.
Carefully, I start to move, my eyes scanning the ground, desperate for a familiar landmark. That's when I see them—faded scraps of fabric caught on the jagged edges of the underbrush. My steps falter, a sense of dread washing over me as I bend down to examine them. The fabric is torn, weathered by time and the elements, but unmistakably familiar. It's part of Leah's jacket—the bright pink one she wore on the day she disappeared.
As I strain to make sense of it all, a rustling sound behind me snaps my focus. My heart leaps into my throat. I spin around, my hand instinctively reaching for the rifle I don't have—because, of course, I didn't bring it in my unconscious state.
The shadowy figure that emerges from the trees is unsettlingly familiar, mirroring the menacing forms of my nightmares. But as it steps into the moonlight, I recognize the worn jacket, the weary posture. It's Dad.
"Ryan!" he calls out, his voice a mix of relief and stern concern. "I've been looking everywhere for you. What the hell are you doing out here?"
I exhale slowly, the terror ebbing away as reality sets back in. "I—I don't know, Dad. I must've sleepwalked again." My voice is shaky, my earlier dream still clinging to the edges of my consciousness.
Dad stares at me in disbelief. "You haven't sleepwalked since you were a kid, Ry. This... this isn't just a coincidence." His eyes dart around, taking in the surroundings—the eerie, claw-marked den, the unsettling quiet of the woods. "How did you even find this place?"
I shake my head, struggling to find an answer. "I don't know, Dad. I just... I woke up here." The uncertainty in my voice does nothing to ease the tension.
His eyes lock onto the tattered remains of Leah's jacket in my hands, and something inside him snaps. The color drains from his face as he stumbles a few steps backward. "This... this is where it happened," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper. “This is where we found Leah."
“I thought you said you don’t remember anything from that night,” he says accusingly.
"I swear, Dad, I don't know anything about this place," I insist, my own heart pounding.
“It was you, wasn’t it? You’ve been hiding this from me.” His voice is frantic. “You... last night, the growling, it was you.” His voice rises, tinged with hysteria.
I step back, my pulse racing, feeling the chill of the night and the weight of his accusation. "Dad, I don't know what you're talking ab—”
"No!" he interrupts, his voice breaking as he points a trembling finger at me. "You knew, you always knew. It was you, Ryan. All these years, the evidence was right there, but I refused to see it. You were the dogman. You killed Leah!"
His words hit me like a physical blow, absurd and horrifying in their implications. "Dad, you're not making any sense. You're talking crazy! I was just a little kid! How could I–" I protest, my voice shaky.
He steps closer, his presence looming over me, the outline of his figure distorted by the shadows of the trees. "Think about it! It all makes sense now. You led us here, to this place, because you remember. Because you did it."
"Dad, stop it!" I shout, my heart pounding in my chest. "You're scaring me. You need help, professional help. This isn't you."
But he's beyond reason, his eyes wild with a haunted grief. "I have to end this," he mutters, more to himself than to me, his hand tightening around his rifle.
His finger hovers dangerously over the trigger of his rifle. My instincts kick in, and I know I have to act fast.
I lunge toward him, trying to knock the weapon away, but he's quicker than I expected. We struggle, our breaths heavy in the cold night air, the sounds of our scuffle the only noise in the otherwise silent woods. His strength surprises me, fueled by his frantic emotions. He shoves me back, and I stumble over a root, my balance lost for a crucial second. That's all he needs. He raises his rifle, his intentions clear in his wild, pained eyes.
I dive to the ground just as the shot rings out, a deafening blast that echoes ominously through the trees. The bullet whizzes past, narrowly missing me, embedding itself in the bark of an old pine. I scramble to my feet, my heart pounding in my ears, and I start running. The underbrush claws at my clothes and skin, but I push through, driven by a primal urge to survive.
"Dad, stop! It's me, Ryan!" I shout back as I dodge between the trees. Another shot breaks the silence, closer this time, sending splinters of wood flying from a nearby tree trunk. It's surreal, being hunted by my own father, a man tormented by grief and lost in his delusions.
I don't stop to look back. I can hear him crashing through the forest behind me, his heavy breaths and muttered curses carried on the wind. The terrain is rough, and I'm fueled by adrenaline, but exhaustion is setting in. I need a plan.
Ahead, I see a rocky outcrop and make a split-second decision to head for it. It offers a chance to hide, to catch my breath and maybe reason with him if he catches up. As I reach the rocks, I slip behind the largest one, my body pressed tight against the cold, damp surface. I hear his footsteps approaching, slow and cautious now.
As I press against the rock, trying to calm my racing heart, I can hear Dad's footsteps drawing closer, each step crunching ominously on the forest floor. He's methodical, deliberate, like a hunter stalking his prey.
“Come out, Ryan!” Dad’s voice is ragged, filled with a blend of fury and pain.
My heart pounds against my chest, the cold sweat on my back making me shiver against the rough surface of the rock. I know I can't just sit here; it's only a matter of time before he finds me.
Taking a deep breath, I peek around the edge of the rock, trying to gauge his position. I see him, rifle raised, scanning the area slowly. This might be my only chance to end this madness without further violence. I need to disarm him, to talk some sense into him if I can.
As quietly as I can, I move out from behind the rock, my steps careful to avoid any twigs or leaves that might betray my position. I'm almost upon him when a branch snaps under my foot—a sound so trivial yet so alarmingly loud in the quiet of the woods.
Dad whirls around, looking completely unhinged. "Ryan!" he exclaims, his rifle swinging in my direction. Panic overtakes me, and I lunge forward, my hands reaching for the gun.
We struggle, the rifle between us, our breaths heavy and erratic. "Dad, please, stop!" I plead, trying to wrestle the gun away. But he's strong, stronger than I expected.
In the chaos, the rifle goes off. The sound is deafening, a sharp echo that seems to reverberate off every tree around us. Pain explodes in my abdomen, sharp and burning, like nothing I've ever felt before. I stagger back, my hands instinctively going to the wound. The warmth of my own blood coats my fingers, stark and terrifying.
Dad drops the rifle, his eyes wide with horror. "Oh my God! What have I done?" he gasps, rushing to my side as I collapse onto the forest floor.
As the pain sears through me, a strange, overpowering energy surges within. It's wild, primal, unlike anything I've ever experienced. Looking down in horror, my hands are no longer hands but large, hairy, clawed appendages. The transformation is rapid, consuming—my vision blurs, senses heighten, and a raw, guttural growl builds in my throat.
In that moment, a flood of understanding washes over me, mingling with the horror of realization. These are the hands of the creature from my nightmares, the creature whose face I can never fully recall because, as I now understand, it is me.
What happens next feels detached, as if I'm no longer in control of my own actions, watching from a distance as my body moves on its own. I turn towards my dad, his face a mask of terror. He stumbles back, his eyes wide with the dawning realization of what his son has become.
The forest around us seems to fall silent, holding its breath as the nightmarish scene unfolds. I can hear my own growls, guttural and deep, filling the air with a sound that's both foreign and intimately familiar. The pain in my abdomen fuels a dark, violent urge, an urge that's too strong to resist.
With a ferocity that feels both alien and intrinsic, I move towards him. My dad, paralyzed by fear and shock, doesn't run. Maybe he can't. Maybe he doesn't want to.
The encounter is brutal and swift, a blur of motion and violence. My dad barely puts up a struggle, as though resigned to his fate.
Not that there is anything he can do. The creature that I’ve become is too powerful, too consumed by the wild instincts surging through me. I tear him apart, limb from bloody limb, my hands—no, my claws—rending through fabric and flesh with disgusting ease.
The sound of my dad’s screams, of tearing fabric and flesh is drowned out by the animalistic growls that echo through the trees.
When it’s all over, the red mist that had clouded my vision begins to fade, and the fierce, uncontrollable rage that drove my actions subsides. I'm left standing, my breaths heavy and erratic, in the eerie stillness of the forest. The transformation reverses as quickly as it came on, and I find myself back in my human form. My clothes are ripped to shreds, hanging off my frame in tattered remnants. At my feet lies what’s left of my dad, his body torn and unrecognizable.
I glance down at my abdomen, expecting agony, but instead find my wound miraculously healed. No sign of the gunshot remains, just a faint scar where I expected a bloody mess.
Shock sets in, a numbing disbelief mixed with a gut-wrenching realization of what I've become and what I've done. My hands, now human again, tremble as I look at them, half-expecting to see the claws that had so effortlessly ripped through flesh and bone. But there's only blood, my father's blood against my skin.
I stand there for what feels like an eternity, trapped in a nightmare of my own making.
Eventually, the shock wears thin, and a cold practicality takes hold. I need to get out of here. I need to cover my tracks, to disappear. Because who would believe this? Who would understand that I didn't choose this, that I'm not a monster by choice?
With trembling hands, I do what’s necessary. I bury my dad in a shallow grave, the physical act of digging strangely grounding. I cover him with leaves and branches, a pitiful attempt to hide the brutality of his end. I take a moment, whispering apologies into the wind, knowing full well that nothing I say can change what happened.
I leave the forest behind, my mind a whirl of dark thoughts. As I walk, the first hints of dawn brush against the horizon, the sky bleeding a soft pink. It’s hauntingly beautiful.
submitted by PageTurner627 to creepypasta [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 20:08 PageTurner627 My Dad and I Hunted Down the Dogman that Killed My Sister

I’ve always hated the smell of gun oil. It clings to everything it touches, soaking deep into the fibers of my clothes, the lining of my backpack, the coarse hair on the back of my hands. Yet here I am, kneeling on the cracked linoleum of our mudroom, a Remington .308 laid across my thighs, and the stench of gun oil sharp in my nostrils. The early morning light barely scratches at the edges of the blinds, dim and gray like the belly of a dead fish.
My dad Frank is in the kitchen, clattering around with the coffeepot and mumbling under his breath. Today we’re heading up to the woods of Northern Michigan, same as we did every year before Leah… before we lost her.
I can’t help but feel the old scars throbbing as I load bullets into the magazine. It’s been ten years since that hunting trip, the one that tore my family into before and after. Before, when Leah's laughter was a constant soundtrack to our lives; after, when every silence was filled with her absence.
We were just kids back then. I was ten, Leah was eight. It was supposed to be a typical hunting trip, one of those bonding experiences Dad was always talking about. But things went wrong. We got separated from Dad somehow. One minute we were following him, the next we were lost, the dense woods closing in around us.
Dad says when he found me, I was huddled under a fallen tree, my eyes wide, my body frozen. All I could mutter through chattering teeth was "Dogman."
It was only later, after the search parties had combed through every thicket and hollow, that they found her. What remained of Leah was barely recognizable, the evidence of a brutal mauling undeniable. The authorities concluded it was likely a bear attack, but Dad... he never accepted that explanation. He had seen the tracks, too large and oddly shaped for any bear.
As I load another round, the memory flashes, unbidden and unwelcome. Large, hairy clawed hands reaching out towards us, impossibly big, grotesque in their form. Yet, the rest of the creature eludes me, a shadow just beyond the edge of my recall, leaving me with nothing but fragmented terrors and Leah’s haunting, echoing screams. My mind blocked most of it out, a self-defense mechanism, I guess.
For years after that day, sleep was a battleground. I'd wake up in strange places—kitchen floor, backyard, even at the edge of the nearby creek. My therapist said it was my mind's way of trying to resolve the unresolved, to wander back through the woods searching for Leah. But all I found in those sleepless nights was a deeper sense of loss.
It took time, a lot of therapy, and patience I didn't know I had, but the sleepwalking did eventually stop. I guess I started to find some semblance of peace.
I have mostly moved on with my life. The fragmentary memories of that day are still there, lurking in the corners of my mind, but they don’t dominate my thoughts like they used to. I just finished my sophomore year at Michigan State, majoring in Environmental Science.
As for Dad, the loss of Leah broke him. He became a shell of himself. It destroyed his marriage with Mom. He blamed himself for letting us out of his sight, for not protecting Leah. His life took on a single, consuming focus: finding the creature that killed her. He read every book, every article on cryptids and unexplained phenomena. He mapped sightings, connected dots across blurry photos and shaky testimonies of the Dogman.
But as the tenth anniversary of Leah’s death approaches, Dad's obsession has grown more intense. He’s started staying up late, poring over his maps and notes, muttering to himself about patterns and cycles. He’s convinced that the dogman reappears every ten years, and this is our window of opportunity to finally hunt it down.
I’m not nearly as convinced. The whole dogman thing seems like a coping mechanism, a way for Dad to channel his guilt and grief into something tangible, something he can fight against. But I decided to tag along on this trip, partly to keep an eye on him, partly because a small part of me hopes that maybe, just maybe, we’ll find some kind of closure out there in the woods.
I finish loading the rifle and set it aside, standing up to stretch my legs. I wipe my greasy hands on an old rag, trying to get rid of the smell. The early morning light is starting to seep into the room, casting long shadows across the floor.
Dad comes out of the kitchen with two thermoses of coffee in hand. His eyes are bleary and tired.
“You ready, Ryan?” he asks, handing me a thermos, his voice rough from too many sleepless nights.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” I reply, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
We load our gear into the truck, the weight of our supplies and weapons a physical reminder of the burden we carry. The drive from Lansing across the Lower Peninsula is long and quiet, the silence between us filled with unspoken memories and unresolved grief.
—
The drive north is a blur of highway lines and the dull hum of the engine. I drift off, the landscape outside blending into a haze. In my sleep, fragments of that day with Leah replay like scattered pieces of a puzzle. I see her smile, the way she tugged at my sleeve, eager to explore. The sunlight filters through the trees in sharp, jagged streaks.
Then, the memory shifts—darker, disjointed. Leah's voice echoes, a playful laugh turning into a scream that pierces the air. The crunch of leaves underfoot as something heavy moves through the underbrush. I see a shadow, large and looming, not quite fitting the shapes of any creature I know.
Then, something darker creeps into the dream, something I’ve never allowed myself to remember clearly.
Before I can see what it is I wake up with a start as the truck jerks slightly on a rough patch of road. Dad glances over. "Bad dream?" he asks. I nod, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, the remnants of the dream clinging to me like the cold.
"Yeah, just... thinking about Leah," I manage to say.
As we drive, Dad attempts to bridge the silence with small talk. He asks about my finals, my plans for the summer, anything to keep the conversation going. His voice carries a forced cheerfulness, but it’s clear his heart isn’t in it. I respond when necessary, my answers brief, my gaze fixed on the passing scenery.
The landscape changes as we head further north, from flat expanses to rolling hills dotted with dense patches of forest. It's beautiful country, the kind that reminds you how vast and wild Michigan can be, but today it just feels oppressive, like it’s closing in on us.
—
We finally arrive at the cabin, nestled deep in the woods, its weathered wood blending seamlessly with the surrounding trees. The place hasn't changed much since the last time I was here—a relic from another time, filled with the echoes of our past. I can still see Leah running around the porch, her laughter ringing out into the forest.
Dad parks the truck, and we step out into the crisp air. The smell of pine and damp earth fills my nostrils. We start unloading our gear, the tension between us palpable.
“Let’s get this inside,” Dad says, his voice gruff as he hefts a duffel bag onto his shoulder.
I nod, grabbing my own bag and following him to the cabin. Inside, it’s a mix of old and new—the same rustic furniture, but with new hunting gear and maps strewn across the table. Dad’s obsession is evident in every corner of the room, a constant reminder of why we’re here.
As we unpack, we exchange strained attempts at normalcy. He talks about the latest cryptid sightings he’s read about, his eyes lighting up with a fervor that both worries and saddens me.
“Did you hear about the sighting up near Alpena?” he asks, laying out his maps on the table.
“Yeah, you mentioned it,” I reply, trying to muster some enthusiasm. “Do you really think there’s something to it?”
Dad’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see a flicker of doubt. But it’s quickly replaced by grim determination. “I have to believe it, Ryan. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
We finish unpacking, the silence between us growing heavier with each passing minute. I step outside to clear my head, the cool air a welcome relief. The sun is starting to set, casting long shadows across the clearing. I can’t shake the feeling of unease.
"You can take the upstairs room," Dad mutters. His voice is strained, trying to sound normal, but it's clear the weight of the past is heavy on him. I nod, hauling my backpack up the creaking stairs to the small bedroom that I used to share with Leah. The room feels smaller now, or maybe I've just grown too much since those innocent days.
I unpack silently, setting my things aside. The bed is stiff and cold under my touch. As I settle in, I can't help but glance at the corner where Leah and I would huddle together, whispering secrets and making plans for adventures that would never happen. I push the thoughts away, focusing on the practicalities of unpacking.
After settling in, I go back downstairs to find Dad loading up a backpack with supplies for our hunt. The intensity in his eyes is palpable, his hands moving with practiced precision. I know this routine; it's one he's perfected over countless solo trips since that fateful day.
"We'll head out early," he says, not looking up from his task. "Gotta make the most of the daylight."
I nod, though unease curls in my stomach. I'm not just worried about what we might find—or not find—out there. I'm worried about him. Each year, the obsession seems to carve him out a bit more, leaving less of the Dad I knew.
—
The morning air is sharp with the scent of pine and wet earth as Dad and I head into the deeper parts of the forest. The terrain is rugged, familiar in its untamed beauty, but there’s a tension between us that makes the landscape feel alien. Dad moves with a purposeful stride, his eyes scanning the woods around us. Every snap of a twig, every rustle in the underbrush seems to draw his attention. He’s on edge, and it puts me on edge too.
As we walk, my mind drifts back to that day ten years ago. I can almost hear Leah’s voice echoing through the trees, her high-pitched call as she darted ahead, "Catch me, Ryan!" I remember how the sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dancing shadows on the ground. Those memories are so vivid, so tangible, it feels like I could just turn a corner and see her there, waiting for us.
Dad suddenly stops and kneels, examining the ground. He points out a set of tracks that are too large for a deer, with an unusual gait pattern. "It’s been here, Ry. I’m telling you, it’s close," he whispers, a mixture of excitement and something darker in his voice. I nod, though I’m not sure what to believe. Part of me wants to dismiss it all as grief-fueled obsession, but another part, the part that heard Leah's scream and saw something monstrous in the woods that day, isn’t so sure.
As we continue, Dad's comments become increasingly cryptic. "You know, they say the dogman moves in cycles, drawn to certain places, certain times. Like it’s tied to the land itself," he muses, more to himself than to me. His fixation on the creature has always been intense, but now it borders on mania.
We set up a makeshift blind near a clearing where Dad insists the creature will pass. Hours drag by with little to see but the occasional bird or distant deer.
The sun rises higher in the sky, casting long, slender shadows through the dense canopy. I shift uncomfortably in my spot, the forest floor hard and unyielding beneath me. My eyes dart between the trees, hoping to catch a glimpse of something, anything, to break the monotony. Dad, on the other hand, remains steadfast, his gaze fixed on the treeline as if he can will the dogman into existence by sheer force of will.
A bird chirps nearby, startling me. I sigh and adjust my grip on the rifle. I glance over at Dad.
“Anything?” I ask, more out of boredom than genuine curiosity.
“Not yet,” he replies, his voice tight. “But it’s out there. I know it.”
I nod, even though I’m not sure I believe him. The forest seems too quiet, too still. Maybe we’re chasing ghosts.
As the sun begins its descent, the forest is bathed in a warm, golden light. The air cools, and a breeze rustles the leaves. I shiver, more from anticipation than the cold. The long hours of sitting and waiting are starting to wear on me.
“Let’s call it a day for now,” Dad says finally, his voice heavy with disappointment. “We’ll head back to the cabin, get some rest, and try again tomorrow.”
I stand and stretch, feeling the stiffness in my muscles. We pack up our gear in silence and start the trek back to the cabin. The walk is long and quiet, the only sounds are the crunch of leaves underfoot and the distant calls of birds settling in for the night.
—
Dinner is a quiet affair, both of us lost in our thoughts. I try to make small talk, asking Dad about his plans for tomorrow, but it feels forced. We clean up in silence.
After dinner, I retreat to the small bedroom. The fatigue from the day's hike has settled into my bones, but sleep still feels like a distant hope. I lie down, staring at the ceiling, the room cloaked in darkness save for the sliver of moonlight creeping through the window. Downstairs, I hear the faint sound of Dad moving around, likely unable to sleep himself.
I drift into sleep, but it's not restful. My dreams pull me back to that fateful day in the woods. Leah's voice is clear and vibrant, her laughter echoing through the trees. She looks just as she did then—bright-eyed and full of life, her blonde hair catching the sunlight as she runs ahead of me.
"Come on, Ry! You can't catch me!" she taunts, her voice playful and teasing.
I chase after her, but the scene shifts abruptly. The sky darkens, the woods around us growing dense and foreboding. Leah's laughter fades, replaced by a chilling silence. I see her ahead, standing still, her back to me.
"Leah?" I call out, my voice trembling. She turns slowly, her eyes wide and filled with fear. "Ryan, you have to remember," she says, her voice barely a whisper. "It wasn't what you think. You need to know the truth."
Leah’s words hang in the air, cryptic and unsettling. Before I can respond, she turns and starts running again, her figure becoming a blur among the trees. Panic rises in my chest as I sprint after her, my feet pounding against the forest floor.
“Leah, wait!” I shout, desperation lacing my voice. The forest around me seems to close in, the trees towering and twisted, shadows dancing menacingly in the dim light. I push forward, trying to keep her in sight, but she’s too fast, slipping away like a wisp of smoke.
Suddenly, there’s a rustle, a flash of movement in the corner of my vision. Leah screams, a sound that pierces through the heavy silence. It happens too quickly—I can’t see what it is, only a dark blur that snatches her up.
“Leah!” I scream, my voice breaking. I stumble, falling to my knees as the forest spins around me. My heart races, and the terror is so real, so visceral, that it pulls me back to that awful day, the one that changed everything.
I jolt awake, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
I sit up, wiping the cold sweat from my forehead as I try to steady my breathing. The room is still dark, the shadows cast by the moonlight seem to flicker and dance on the walls. My heart is still racing from the nightmare, the echo of Leah's scream lingering in my ears.
As I struggle to calm down, the floorboards outside my room creak. The door opens slowly, and I see the silhouette of my dad in the doorway, a Bowie knife in his hand, his posture tense.
“Dad, what the hell are you doing?” I whisper, my voice shaking.
“Shh,” he hisses, holding up a hand to silence me. “I heard something. Something moving around in the cabin. Stay quiet.”
I swallow hard, my mouth dry. I glance at the clock on the nightstand—it’s just past three in the morning. The cabin is silent, the kind of deep, oppressive silence that makes every small sound seem louder. I can’t hear anything out of the ordinary, but Dad’s expression is deadly serious.
He motions for me to get up, and I do, moving as quietly as I can. My heart is racing, a mix of lingering fear from the dream and the sudden, sharp anxiety of the present moment. Dad leads the way, stepping cautiously out of the bedroom and into the hallway, the knife held ready in front of him.
We move through the cabin, checking each room in turn. The living room is empty, the furniture casting long shadows in the dim moonlight. The kitchen is just as we left it, the plates from dinner still drying on the counter. Everything seems normal, untouched.
We finish our sweep of the cabin without finding anything amiss. The silence is heavy, punctuated only by our soft footfalls. I can see the tension in Dad’s frame, his grip on the knife unwavering. After checking the last room, we pause in the dimly lit hallway, the air thick with unspoken questions.
“There’s nothing here,” I say, my voice low. “Are you sure you heard something?”
He looks at me, his eyes searching for something in my face. “I heard growling. Deep and close. It was right outside the window.”
“Maybe it was just an animal outside, a raccoon or something?” I suggest, although the certainty in his voice makes me doubt my own reassurance.
“No, it wasn’t like that. It was different,” he insists, his voice tense.
I nod, not wanting to argue, but the seeds of worry are planted deep.
The look in his eyes sends a chill down my spine. It’s not just fear—it’s desperation. The kind of desperation that comes from years of chasing shadows and finding nothing. I can see the toll this hunt has taken on him, the way it’s worn him down, turned him into a man I barely recognize.
We head back to our rooms. As I lie down, my mind races with thoughts of my dad. I can’t help but wonder if he’s losing it, if the years of grief and guilt have finally pushed him over the edge.
Dad wasn’t always like this. Before Leah’s death, he was the kind of father who took us fishing, helped with homework, and told terrible jokes that made us groan and laugh at the same time. He was solid, dependable. But losing Leah changed him. The guilt twisted him into someone I barely recognize, someone driven by a need for answers, for closure, that may never come.
I try to sleep, but my thoughts keep me awake. I can hear Dad moving around downstairs, probably pacing or double-checking the locks. His paranoia has become a constant presence, and I don’t know how to help him. I don’t even know if I can help him.
—
The next morning, the sunlight filters weakly through the cabin windows, casting a pale light that does little to lift the heavy mood. I drag myself out of bed, feeling the exhaustion of another restless night. Dad is already up, hunched over his maps at the kitchen table, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep.
“Morning,” I mumble, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I pour myself a cup of coffee. “Did you sleep at all?”
He shakes his head, not looking up from his notes. “Not much. I couldn’t stop thinking about what I heard last night.”
I sip my coffee, trying to shake off the remnants of my nightmare. “Maybe it was just an animal, Dad. We’re deep in the woods, after all.”
He finally looks up, his eyes intense. “Ryan, I know what I heard. It wasn’t just an animal. It was something else.”
I sigh, not wanting to argue. “Okay, fine, Dad. What’s the plan for today?”
“We’re going back out. I found some tracks yesterday, and I want to follow them. See where they lead.”
I nod, feeling a mix of apprehension and resignation. I can see how much this means to him, how desperate he is for any kind of lead. “Alright. Let’s get packed and head out.”
We spend the morning preparing, loading up our gear and double-checking our supplies. Dad is meticulous, going over everything with a fine-toothed comb. I try to match his focus, but my mind keeps drifting back to Leah and the dream I had. Her words echo in my head, cryptic and unsettling: “You need to know the truth.”
We set off into the woods, the air crisp and cool. The forest is alive with the sounds of birds and rustling leaves, but it all feels distant, like background noise to the tension between us. Dad leads the way, his eyes scanning the ground for any sign of the tracks he found yesterday.
As we walk, I can’t help but notice how erratically he’s acting. He mutters to himself, his eyes darting around as if expecting something to jump out at us. His grip on his rifle is tight, his knuckles white.
“Dad, are you okay?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
He glances at me, his expression unreadable. “I’m fine. Just focused.”
He stops frequently to examine the ground or the bark of trees, pointing out marks and signs that seem meaningless to me.
“Look at this,” he says, crouching down to examine a broken branch. “See how it’s snapped? That’s not a deer or a bear. That’s something bigger. Stronger.”
I crouch next to Dad, squinting at the broken branch. To me, it just looks like a regular broken branch, the kind you see all over the forest. "I don't know, Dad. It just looks like a branch to me," I say, trying to keep my voice neutral.
Dad's eyes flicker with frustration. "You're not looking close enough. It's the way it's snapped—too clean, too deliberate. Something did this."
I nod, not wanting to argue. "Okay, sure. But even if you're right, it could be anything. A storm, another hunter..."
His expression hardens. "I know what I'm looking for. This is different."
I sigh, feeling the weight of the past and the tension between us pressing down on me. "Dad, I had a dream last night. About Leah." The words hang in the air between us, heavy and fraught with unspoken emotions.
Dad's eyes widen, and he straightens up, his entire demeanor shifting. "What kind of dream? What did you see?" His voice is urgent, almost desperate.
"It was... strange. We were in the woods, like we are now, but everything felt different. Leah was there, running ahead of me, laughing. Then she stopped and told me I needed to know the truth, that it wasn't what I thought."
Dad grabs my shoulders, his grip tight. "What else did she say? Did she tell you anything specific? Anything about the creature?"
I shake my head, feeling a chill run down my spine. "No, that was it. She just said I needed to know the truth, and then she was gone."
Dad’s grip on my shoulders tightens, and his eyes bore into mine with a mixture of desperation and hope. “Ryan, you have to try to remember. Think hard. What did the creature look like? Did you see anything else?”
I pull back slightly, uneasy with his intensity. “Dad, I told you. I don’t remember. It was just a dream. A nightmare, really. My mind’s probably just mixing things up.”
He lets go of me and runs a hand through his hair, looking frustrated and lost. “Dreams can be important. They can hold memories we’ve buried deep. Please, try to remember. This could be a sign, a clue.”
I rub my temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “I’ve tried, okay? I’ve tried for years to piece together what happened that day. But it’s all just fragments, like pieces of a puzzle that don’t fit. The dream… it felt real, but I don’t think it’s telling me anything new.”
Dad’s face falls, and he looks older than I’ve ever seen him. He turns away, staring into the forest as if it holds all the answers.
—
As we make our way back to the cabin, the sun begins to set, casting long shadows through the trees. The air grows colder, and I shiver, pulling my jacket tighter around me. Dad is silent, lost in his thoughts, his face drawn and haggard.
Back at the cabin, we unload our gear once again in silence. Dad disappears into his room, muttering something about going over his notes. I decide to explore the cabin, hoping to find something that might help me understand what’s going on with him.
In the attic, I find a box of old family photos and documents. As I sift through the contents, I come across a worn journal with Dad’s handwriting on the cover. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I open it, flipping through the pages.
The journal is filled with notes and sketches, detailing his obsession with the dogman. But there’s something else—entries that talk about Leah, about that day in the woods. His handwriting becomes more erratic, the words harder to read. One entry stands out, dated just a few days after Leah’s death:
“June 15, 2013 – It was supposed to be a normal trip. Keep them close, Frank, I kept telling myself. But I failed. Leah is gone, and it’s my fault. I heard her scream, saw the shadows. I tried to get to her, but… the thing, it was there. Too fast. Too strong. My hands… blood everywhere. No one will believe me. I can’t even believe myself. I have to find it. I have to protect Ryan. I have to make it right. God, what have I done?”
Before I can read further, the attic door creaks open, and Dad’s voice slices through the stillness.
“What are you doing up here?” His tone is sharp, almost panicked.
I turn to see him standing in the doorway, his face pale and his eyes wide with something between anger and fear. I clutch the journal to my chest, my mind racing. “I found this… I was just trying to understand…”
In an instant, he crosses the room and snatches the journal from my hands. His grip is tight, his knuckles white. “You had no right,” he growls, his voice trembling.
“Dad, I just wanted to know the truth!” I shout, frustration boiling over. “What really happened to Leah.”
His eyes flash with a mix of rage and anguish, and before I can react, he slaps me across the face. The force of it knocks me off balance, and I stumble backward, my cheek stinging.
For a moment, there’s a stunned silence. We both stand there, breathing hard, the air thick with tension.
“I’m sorry,” Dad says finally, his voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t mean to… I just…” He trails off, clutching the journal to his chest like a lifeline.
I touch my cheek, feeling the heat from the slap, and take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “Dad, what aren’t you telling me? What really happened that day?”
“Stay out of it, Ryan,” Dad growls, his eyes dark with anger. “You don’t know what you’re messing with.”
He turns and storms out of the attic. I’m left standing there, my cheek throbbing, my mind racing. What the fuck is going on? What really happened to Leah? And what is Dad so afraid of?
—
That night, I sleep with my rifle within arm's reach, more afraid of my dad than any dogman. The slap still burns on my cheek, and the look in his eyes—rage, fear, something darker—haunts me. I lie awake, listening to the creaks and groans of the old cabin, every sound amplified in the stillness. Eventually, exhaustion pulls me under, and I fall into a restless sleep.
The dream returns, vivid and unsettling. I'm back in the woods, chasing after Leah. Her laughter echoes through the trees, a haunting reminder of happier times. This time, though, I push myself harder, refusing to let her slip away.
"Ryan, catch me!" she calls, her voice playful.
"I'm coming, Leah!" I shout, my legs pumping, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
The forest around us is a twisted, shadowy maze, the trees seeming to close in on us. Leah's figure becomes clearer, her blonde hair catching the dim light filtering through the canopy. She stops suddenly, turning to face me, her eyes wide with fear.
"Leah, what is it?" I ask, my voice trembling.
"Look behind you," she whispers, her voice barely audible.
I turn slowly, dread creeping up my spine. In the shadows, I see a figure, its form indistinct and shifting. It’s not quite animal, not quite human—something in between. The sight of it sends a jolt of terror through me, and I wake up with a start, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
I’m not in my bed. The ground beneath me is cold and hard, the smell of damp earth filling my nostrils. Panic rises as I realize I’ve sleepwalked into the woods. I scramble to my feet, my eyes adjusting to the dim light. The moon casts a pale glow over the surroundings, revealing what looks like a long-abandoned animal lair.
The walls are covered in giant claw marks, deep gouges in the wood and earth. The air is heavy with the scent of decay, and a chill runs through me. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched.
Carefully, I start to move, my eyes scanning the ground, desperate for a familiar landmark. That's when I see them—faded scraps of fabric caught on the jagged edges of the underbrush. My steps falter, a sense of dread washing over me as I bend down to examine them. The fabric is torn, weathered by time and the elements, but unmistakably familiar. It's part of Leah's jacket—the bright pink one she wore on the day she disappeared.
As I strain to make sense of it all, a rustling sound behind me snaps my focus. My heart leaps into my throat. I spin around, my hand instinctively reaching for the rifle I don't have—because, of course, I didn't bring it in my unconscious state.
The shadowy figure that emerges from the trees is unsettlingly familiar, mirroring the menacing forms of my nightmares. But as it steps into the moonlight, I recognize the worn jacket, the weary posture. It's Dad.
"Ryan!" he calls out, his voice a mix of relief and stern concern. "I've been looking everywhere for you. What the hell are you doing out here?"
I exhale slowly, the terror ebbing away as reality sets back in. "I—I don't know, Dad. I must've sleepwalked again." My voice is shaky, my earlier dream still clinging to the edges of my consciousness.
Dad stares at me in disbelief. "You haven't sleepwalked since you were a kid, Ry. This... this isn't just a coincidence." His eyes dart around, taking in the surroundings—the eerie, claw-marked den, the unsettling quiet of the woods. "How did you even find this place?"
I shake my head, struggling to find an answer. "I don't know, Dad. I just... I woke up here." The uncertainty in my voice does nothing to ease the tension.
His eyes lock onto the tattered remains of Leah's jacket in my hands, and something inside him snaps. The color drains from his face as he stumbles a few steps backward. "This... this is where it happened," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper. “This is where we found Leah."
“I thought you said you don’t remember anything from that night,” he says accusingly.
"I swear, Dad, I don't know anything about this place," I insist, my own heart pounding.
“It was you, wasn’t it? You’ve been hiding this from me.” His voice is frantic. “You... last night, the growling, it was you.” His voice rises, tinged with hysteria.
I step back, my pulse racing, feeling the chill of the night and the weight of his accusation. "Dad, I don't know what you're talking ab—”
"No!" he interrupts, his voice breaking as he points a trembling finger at me. "You knew, you always knew. It was you, Ryan. All these years, the evidence was right there, but I refused to see it. You were the dogman. You killed Leah!"
His words hit me like a physical blow, absurd and horrifying in their implications. "Dad, you're not making any sense. You're talking crazy! I was just a little kid! How could I–" I protest, my voice shaky.
He steps closer, his presence looming over me, the outline of his figure distorted by the shadows of the trees. "Think about it! It all makes sense now. You led us here, to this place, because you remember. Because you did it."
"Dad, stop it!" I shout, my heart pounding in my chest. "You're scaring me. You need help, professional help. This isn't you."
But he's beyond reason, his eyes wild with a haunted grief. "I have to end this," he mutters, more to himself than to me, his hand tightening around his rifle.
His finger hovers dangerously over the trigger of his rifle. My instincts kick in, and I know I have to act fast.
I lunge toward him, trying to knock the weapon away, but he's quicker than I expected. We struggle, our breaths heavy in the cold night air, the sounds of our scuffle the only noise in the otherwise silent woods. His strength surprises me, fueled by his frantic emotions. He shoves me back, and I stumble over a root, my balance lost for a crucial second. That's all he needs. He raises his rifle, his intentions clear in his wild, pained eyes.
I dive to the ground just as the shot rings out, a deafening blast that echoes ominously through the trees. The bullet whizzes past, narrowly missing me, embedding itself in the bark of an old pine. I scramble to my feet, my heart pounding in my ears, and I start running. The underbrush claws at my clothes and skin, but I push through, driven by a primal urge to survive.
"Dad, stop! It's me, Ryan!" I shout back as I dodge between the trees. Another shot breaks the silence, closer this time, sending splinters of wood flying from a nearby tree trunk. It's surreal, being hunted by my own father, a man tormented by grief and lost in his delusions.
I don't stop to look back. I can hear him crashing through the forest behind me, his heavy breaths and muttered curses carried on the wind. The terrain is rough, and I'm fueled by adrenaline, but exhaustion is setting in. I need a plan.
Ahead, I see a rocky outcrop and make a split-second decision to head for it. It offers a chance to hide, to catch my breath and maybe reason with him if he catches up. As I reach the rocks, I slip behind the largest one, my body pressed tight against the cold, damp surface. I hear his footsteps approaching, slow and cautious now.
As I press against the rock, trying to calm my racing heart, I can hear Dad's footsteps drawing closer, each step crunching ominously on the forest floor. He's methodical, deliberate, like a hunter stalking his prey.
“Come out, Ryan!” Dad’s voice is ragged, filled with a blend of fury and pain.
My heart pounds against my chest, the cold sweat on my back making me shiver against the rough surface of the rock. I know I can't just sit here; it's only a matter of time before he finds me.
Taking a deep breath, I peek around the edge of the rock, trying to gauge his position. I see him, rifle raised, scanning the area slowly. This might be my only chance to end this madness without further violence. I need to disarm him, to talk some sense into him if I can.
As quietly as I can, I move out from behind the rock, my steps careful to avoid any twigs or leaves that might betray my position. I'm almost upon him when a branch snaps under my foot—a sound so trivial yet so alarmingly loud in the quiet of the woods.
Dad whirls around, looking completely unhinged. "Ryan!" he exclaims, his rifle swinging in my direction. Panic overtakes me, and I lunge forward, my hands reaching for the gun.
We struggle, the rifle between us, our breaths heavy and erratic. "Dad, please, stop!" I plead, trying to wrestle the gun away. But he's strong, stronger than I expected.
In the chaos, the rifle goes off. The sound is deafening, a sharp echo that seems to reverberate off every tree around us. Pain explodes in my abdomen, sharp and burning, like nothing I've ever felt before. I stagger back, my hands instinctively going to the wound. The warmth of my own blood coats my fingers, stark and terrifying.
Dad drops the rifle, his eyes wide with horror. "Oh my God! What have I done?" he gasps, rushing to my side as I collapse onto the forest floor.
As the pain sears through me, a strange, overpowering energy surges within. It's wild, primal, unlike anything I've ever experienced. Looking down in horror, my hands are no longer hands but large, hairy, clawed appendages. The transformation is rapid, consuming—my vision blurs, senses heighten, and a raw, guttural growl builds in my throat.
In that moment, a flood of understanding washes over me, mingling with the horror of realization. These are the hands of the creature from my nightmares, the creature whose face I can never fully recall because, as I now understand, it is me.
What happens next feels detached, as if I'm no longer in control of my own actions, watching from a distance as my body moves on its own. I turn towards my dad, his face a mask of terror. He stumbles back, his eyes wide with the dawning realization of what his son has become.
The forest around us seems to fall silent, holding its breath as the nightmarish scene unfolds. I can hear my own growls, guttural and deep, filling the air with a sound that's both foreign and intimately familiar. The pain in my abdomen fuels a dark, violent urge, an urge that's too strong to resist.
With a ferocity that feels both alien and intrinsic, I move towards him. My dad, paralyzed by fear and shock, doesn't run. Maybe he can't. Maybe he doesn't want to.
The encounter is brutal and swift, a blur of motion and violence. My dad barely puts up a struggle, as though resigned to his fate.
Not that there is anything he can do. The creature that I’ve become is too powerful, too consumed by the wild instincts surging through me. I tear him apart, limb from bloody limb, my hands—no, my claws—rending through fabric and flesh with disgusting ease.
The sound of my dad’s screams, of tearing fabric and flesh is drowned out by the animalistic growls that echo through the trees.
When it’s all over, the red mist that had clouded my vision begins to fade, and the fierce, uncontrollable rage that drove my actions subsides. I'm left standing, my breaths heavy and erratic, in the eerie stillness of the forest. The transformation reverses as quickly as it came on, and I find myself back in my human form. My clothes are ripped to shreds, hanging off my frame in tattered remnants. At my feet lies what’s left of my dad, his body torn and unrecognizable.
I glance down at my abdomen, expecting agony, but instead find my wound miraculously healed. No sign of the gunshot remains, just a faint scar where I expected a bloody mess.
Shock sets in, a numbing disbelief mixed with a gut-wrenching realization of what I've become and what I've done. My hands, now human again, tremble as I look at them, half-expecting to see the claws that had so effortlessly ripped through flesh and bone. But there's only blood, my father's blood against my skin.
I stand there for what feels like an eternity, trapped in a nightmare of my own making.
Eventually, the shock wears thin, and a cold practicality takes hold. I need to get out of here. I need to cover my tracks, to disappear. Because who would believe this? Who would understand that I didn't choose this, that I'm not a monster by choice?
With trembling hands, I do what’s necessary. I bury my dad in a shallow grave, the physical act of digging strangely grounding. I cover him with leaves and branches, a pitiful attempt to hide the brutality of his end. I take a moment, whispering apologies into the wind, knowing full well that nothing I say can change what happened.
I leave the forest behind, my mind a whirl of dark thoughts. As I walk, the first hints of dawn brush against the horizon, the sky bleeding a soft pink. It’s hauntingly beautiful.
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2024.05.19 20:02 PageTurner627 My Dad and I Hunted Down the Dogman that Killed My Sister

I’ve always hated the smell of gun oil. It clings to everything it touches, soaking deep into the fibers of my clothes, the lining of my backpack, the coarse hair on the back of my hands. Yet here I am, kneeling on the cracked linoleum of our mudroom, a Remington .308 laid across my thighs, and the stench of gun oil sharp in my nostrils. The early morning light barely scratches at the edges of the blinds, dim and gray like the belly of a dead fish.
My dad Frank is in the kitchen, clattering around with the coffeepot and mumbling under his breath. Today we’re heading up to the woods of Northern Michigan, same as we did every year before Leah… before we lost her.
I can’t help but feel the old scars throbbing as I load bullets into the magazine. It’s been ten years since that hunting trip, the one that tore my family into before and after. Before, when Leah's laughter was a constant soundtrack to our lives; after, when every silence was filled with her absence.
We were just kids back then. I was ten, Leah was eight. It was supposed to be a typical hunting trip, one of those bonding experiences Dad was always talking about. But things went wrong. We got separated from Dad somehow. One minute we were following him, the next we were lost, the dense woods closing in around us.
Dad says when he found me, I was huddled under a fallen tree, my eyes wide, my body frozen. All I could mutter through chattering teeth was "Dogman."
It was only later, after the search parties had combed through every thicket and hollow, that they found her. What remained of Leah was barely recognizable, the evidence of a brutal mauling undeniable. The authorities concluded it was likely a bear attack, but Dad... he never accepted that explanation. He had seen the tracks, too large and oddly shaped for any bear.
As I load another round, the memory flashes, unbidden and unwelcome. Large, hairy clawed hands reaching out towards us, impossibly big, grotesque in their form. Yet, the rest of the creature eludes me, a shadow just beyond the edge of my recall, leaving me with nothing but fragmented terrors and Leah’s haunting, echoing screams. My mind blocked most of it out, a self-defense mechanism, I guess.
For years after that day, sleep was a battleground. I'd wake up in strange places—kitchen floor, backyard, even at the edge of the nearby creek. My therapist said it was my mind's way of trying to resolve the unresolved, to wander back through the woods searching for Leah. But all I found in those sleepless nights was a deeper sense of loss.
It took time, a lot of therapy, and patience I didn't know I had, but the sleepwalking did eventually stop. I guess I started to find some semblance of peace.
I have mostly moved on with my life. The fragmentary memories of that day are still there, lurking in the corners of my mind, but they don’t dominate my thoughts like they used to. I just finished my sophomore year at Michigan State, majoring in Environmental Science.
As for Dad, the loss of Leah broke him. He became a shell of himself. It destroyed his marriage with Mom. He blamed himself for letting us out of his sight, for not protecting Leah. His life took on a single, consuming focus: finding the creature that killed her. He read every book, every article on cryptids and unexplained phenomena. He mapped sightings, connected dots across blurry photos and shaky testimonies of the Dogman.
But as the tenth anniversary of Leah’s death approaches, Dad's obsession has grown more intense. He’s started staying up late, poring over his maps and notes, muttering to himself about patterns and cycles. He’s convinced that the dogman reappears every ten years, and this is our window of opportunity to finally hunt it down.
I’m not nearly as convinced. The whole dogman thing seems like a coping mechanism, a way for Dad to channel his guilt and grief into something tangible, something he can fight against. But I decided to tag along on this trip, partly to keep an eye on him, partly because a small part of me hopes that maybe, just maybe, we’ll find some kind of closure out there in the woods.
I finish loading the rifle and set it aside, standing up to stretch my legs. I wipe my greasy hands on an old rag, trying to get rid of the smell. The early morning light is starting to seep into the room, casting long shadows across the floor.
Dad comes out of the kitchen with two thermoses of coffee in hand. His eyes are bleary and tired.
“You ready, Ryan?” he asks, handing me a thermos, his voice rough from too many sleepless nights.
“Yeah, I’m ready,” I reply, trying to sound more confident than I felt.
We load our gear into the truck, the weight of our supplies and weapons a physical reminder of the burden we carry. The drive from Lansing across the Lower Peninsula is long and quiet, the silence between us filled with unspoken memories and unresolved grief.
—
The drive north is a blur of highway lines and the dull hum of the engine. I drift off, the landscape outside blending into a haze. In my sleep, fragments of that day with Leah replay like scattered pieces of a puzzle. I see her smile, the way she tugged at my sleeve, eager to explore. The sunlight filters through the trees in sharp, jagged streaks.
Then, the memory shifts—darker, disjointed. Leah's voice echoes, a playful laugh turning into a scream that pierces the air. The crunch of leaves underfoot as something heavy moves through the underbrush. I see a shadow, large and looming, not quite fitting the shapes of any creature I know.
Then, something darker creeps into the dream, something I’ve never allowed myself to remember clearly.
Before I can see what it is I wake up with a start as the truck jerks slightly on a rough patch of road. Dad glances over. "Bad dream?" he asks. I nod, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, the remnants of the dream clinging to me like the cold.
"Yeah, just... thinking about Leah," I manage to say.
As we drive, Dad attempts to bridge the silence with small talk. He asks about my finals, my plans for the summer, anything to keep the conversation going. His voice carries a forced cheerfulness, but it’s clear his heart isn’t in it. I respond when necessary, my answers brief, my gaze fixed on the passing scenery.
The landscape changes as we head further north, from flat expanses to rolling hills dotted with dense patches of forest. It's beautiful country, the kind that reminds you how vast and wild Michigan can be, but today it just feels oppressive, like it’s closing in on us.
—
We finally arrive at the cabin, nestled deep in the woods, its weathered wood blending seamlessly with the surrounding trees. The place hasn't changed much since the last time I was here—a relic from another time, filled with the echoes of our past. I can still see Leah running around the porch, her laughter ringing out into the forest.
Dad parks the truck, and we step out into the crisp air. The smell of pine and damp earth fills my nostrils. We start unloading our gear, the tension between us palpable.
“Let’s get this inside,” Dad says, his voice gruff as he hefts a duffel bag onto his shoulder.
I nod, grabbing my own bag and following him to the cabin. Inside, it’s a mix of old and new—the same rustic furniture, but with new hunting gear and maps strewn across the table. Dad’s obsession is evident in every corner of the room, a constant reminder of why we’re here.
As we unpack, we exchange strained attempts at normalcy. He talks about the latest cryptid sightings he’s read about, his eyes lighting up with a fervor that both worries and saddens me.
“Did you hear about the sighting up near Alpena?” he asks, laying out his maps on the table.
“Yeah, you mentioned it,” I reply, trying to muster some enthusiasm. “Do you really think there’s something to it?”
Dad’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I see a flicker of doubt. But it’s quickly replaced by grim determination. “I have to believe it, Ryan. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
We finish unpacking, the silence between us growing heavier with each passing minute. I step outside to clear my head, the cool air a welcome relief. The sun is starting to set, casting long shadows across the clearing. I can’t shake the feeling of unease.
"You can take the upstairs room," Dad mutters. His voice is strained, trying to sound normal, but it's clear the weight of the past is heavy on him. I nod, hauling my backpack up the creaking stairs to the small bedroom that I used to share with Leah. The room feels smaller now, or maybe I've just grown too much since those innocent days.
I unpack silently, setting my things aside. The bed is stiff and cold under my touch. As I settle in, I can't help but glance at the corner where Leah and I would huddle together, whispering secrets and making plans for adventures that would never happen. I push the thoughts away, focusing on the practicalities of unpacking.
After settling in, I go back downstairs to find Dad loading up a backpack with supplies for our hunt. The intensity in his eyes is palpable, his hands moving with practiced precision. I know this routine; it's one he's perfected over countless solo trips since that fateful day.
"We'll head out early," he says, not looking up from his task. "Gotta make the most of the daylight."
I nod, though unease curls in my stomach. I'm not just worried about what we might find—or not find—out there. I'm worried about him. Each year, the obsession seems to carve him out a bit more, leaving less of the Dad I knew.
—
The morning air is sharp with the scent of pine and wet earth as Dad and I head into the deeper parts of the forest. The terrain is rugged, familiar in its untamed beauty, but there’s a tension between us that makes the landscape feel alien. Dad moves with a purposeful stride, his eyes scanning the woods around us. Every snap of a twig, every rustle in the underbrush seems to draw his attention. He’s on edge, and it puts me on edge too.
As we walk, my mind drifts back to that day ten years ago. I can almost hear Leah’s voice echoing through the trees, her high-pitched call as she darted ahead, "Catch me, Ryan!" I remember how the sunlight filtered through the leaves, casting dancing shadows on the ground. Those memories are so vivid, so tangible, it feels like I could just turn a corner and see her there, waiting for us.
Dad suddenly stops and kneels, examining the ground. He points out a set of tracks that are too large for a deer, with an unusual gait pattern. "It’s been here, Ry. I’m telling you, it’s close," he whispers, a mixture of excitement and something darker in his voice. I nod, though I’m not sure what to believe. Part of me wants to dismiss it all as grief-fueled obsession, but another part, the part that heard Leah's scream and saw something monstrous in the woods that day, isn’t so sure.
As we continue, Dad's comments become increasingly cryptic. "You know, they say the dogman moves in cycles, drawn to certain places, certain times. Like it’s tied to the land itself," he muses, more to himself than to me. His fixation on the creature has always been intense, but now it borders on mania.
We set up a makeshift blind near a clearing where Dad insists the creature will pass. Hours drag by with little to see but the occasional bird or distant deer.
The sun rises higher in the sky, casting long, slender shadows through the dense canopy. I shift uncomfortably in my spot, the forest floor hard and unyielding beneath me. My eyes dart between the trees, hoping to catch a glimpse of something, anything, to break the monotony. Dad, on the other hand, remains steadfast, his gaze fixed on the treeline as if he can will the dogman into existence by sheer force of will.
A bird chirps nearby, startling me. I sigh and adjust my grip on the rifle. I glance over at Dad.
“Anything?” I ask, more out of boredom than genuine curiosity.
“Not yet,” he replies, his voice tight. “But it’s out there. I know it.”
I nod, even though I’m not sure I believe him. The forest seems too quiet, too still. Maybe we’re chasing ghosts.
As the sun begins its descent, the forest is bathed in a warm, golden light. The air cools, and a breeze rustles the leaves. I shiver, more from anticipation than the cold. The long hours of sitting and waiting are starting to wear on me.
“Let’s call it a day for now,” Dad says finally, his voice heavy with disappointment. “We’ll head back to the cabin, get some rest, and try again tomorrow.”
I stand and stretch, feeling the stiffness in my muscles. We pack up our gear in silence and start the trek back to the cabin. The walk is long and quiet, the only sounds are the crunch of leaves underfoot and the distant calls of birds settling in for the night.
—
Dinner is a quiet affair, both of us lost in our thoughts. I try to make small talk, asking Dad about his plans for tomorrow, but it feels forced. We clean up in silence.
After dinner, I retreat to the small bedroom. The fatigue from the day's hike has settled into my bones, but sleep still feels like a distant hope. I lie down, staring at the ceiling, the room cloaked in darkness save for the sliver of moonlight creeping through the window. Downstairs, I hear the faint sound of Dad moving around, likely unable to sleep himself.
I drift into sleep, but it's not restful. My dreams pull me back to that fateful day in the woods. Leah's voice is clear and vibrant, her laughter echoing through the trees. She looks just as she did then—bright-eyed and full of life, her blonde hair catching the sunlight as she runs ahead of me.
"Come on, Ry! You can't catch me!" she taunts, her voice playful and teasing.
I chase after her, but the scene shifts abruptly. The sky darkens, the woods around us growing dense and foreboding. Leah's laughter fades, replaced by a chilling silence. I see her ahead, standing still, her back to me.
"Leah?" I call out, my voice trembling. She turns slowly, her eyes wide and filled with fear. "Ryan, you have to remember," she says, her voice barely a whisper. "It wasn't what you think. You need to know the truth."
Leah’s words hang in the air, cryptic and unsettling. Before I can respond, she turns and starts running again, her figure becoming a blur among the trees. Panic rises in my chest as I sprint after her, my feet pounding against the forest floor.
“Leah, wait!” I shout, desperation lacing my voice. The forest around me seems to close in, the trees towering and twisted, shadows dancing menacingly in the dim light. I push forward, trying to keep her in sight, but she’s too fast, slipping away like a wisp of smoke.
Suddenly, there’s a rustle, a flash of movement in the corner of my vision. Leah screams, a sound that pierces through the heavy silence. It happens too quickly—I can’t see what it is, only a dark blur that snatches her up.
“Leah!” I scream, my voice breaking. I stumble, falling to my knees as the forest spins around me. My heart races, and the terror is so real, so visceral, that it pulls me back to that awful day, the one that changed everything.
I jolt awake, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
I sit up, wiping the cold sweat from my forehead as I try to steady my breathing. The room is still dark, the shadows cast by the moonlight seem to flicker and dance on the walls. My heart is still racing from the nightmare, the echo of Leah's scream lingering in my ears.
As I struggle to calm down, the floorboards outside my room creak. The door opens slowly, and I see the silhouette of my dad in the doorway, a Bowie knife in his hand, his posture tense.
“Dad, what the hell are you doing?” I whisper, my voice shaking.
“Shh,” he hisses, holding up a hand to silence me. “I heard something. Something moving around in the cabin. Stay quiet.”
I swallow hard, my mouth dry. I glance at the clock on the nightstand—it’s just past three in the morning. The cabin is silent, the kind of deep, oppressive silence that makes every small sound seem louder. I can’t hear anything out of the ordinary, but Dad’s expression is deadly serious.
He motions for me to get up, and I do, moving as quietly as I can. My heart is racing, a mix of lingering fear from the dream and the sudden, sharp anxiety of the present moment. Dad leads the way, stepping cautiously out of the bedroom and into the hallway, the knife held ready in front of him.
We move through the cabin, checking each room in turn. The living room is empty, the furniture casting long shadows in the dim moonlight. The kitchen is just as we left it, the plates from dinner still drying on the counter. Everything seems normal, untouched.
We finish our sweep of the cabin without finding anything amiss. The silence is heavy, punctuated only by our soft footfalls. I can see the tension in Dad’s frame, his grip on the knife unwavering. After checking the last room, we pause in the dimly lit hallway, the air thick with unspoken questions.
“There’s nothing here,” I say, my voice low. “Are you sure you heard something?”
He looks at me, his eyes searching for something in my face. “I heard growling. Deep and close. It was right outside the window.”
“Maybe it was just an animal outside, a raccoon or something?” I suggest, although the certainty in his voice makes me doubt my own reassurance.
“No, it wasn’t like that. It was different,” he insists, his voice tense.
I nod, not wanting to argue, but the seeds of worry are planted deep.
The look in his eyes sends a chill down my spine. It’s not just fear—it’s desperation. The kind of desperation that comes from years of chasing shadows and finding nothing. I can see the toll this hunt has taken on him, the way it’s worn him down, turned him into a man I barely recognize.
We head back to our rooms. As I lie down, my mind races with thoughts of my dad. I can’t help but wonder if he’s losing it, if the years of grief and guilt have finally pushed him over the edge.
Dad wasn’t always like this. Before Leah’s death, he was the kind of father who took us fishing, helped with homework, and told terrible jokes that made us groan and laugh at the same time. He was solid, dependable. But losing Leah changed him. The guilt twisted him into someone I barely recognize, someone driven by a need for answers, for closure, that may never come.
I try to sleep, but my thoughts keep me awake. I can hear Dad moving around downstairs, probably pacing or double-checking the locks. His paranoia has become a constant presence, and I don’t know how to help him. I don’t even know if I can help him.
—
The next morning, the sunlight filters weakly through the cabin windows, casting a pale light that does little to lift the heavy mood. I drag myself out of bed, feeling the exhaustion of another restless night. Dad is already up, hunched over his maps at the kitchen table, his eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep.
“Morning,” I mumble, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I pour myself a cup of coffee. “Did you sleep at all?”
He shakes his head, not looking up from his notes. “Not much. I couldn’t stop thinking about what I heard last night.”
I sip my coffee, trying to shake off the remnants of my nightmare. “Maybe it was just an animal, Dad. We’re deep in the woods, after all.”
He finally looks up, his eyes intense. “Ryan, I know what I heard. It wasn’t just an animal. It was something else.”
I sigh, not wanting to argue. “Okay, fine, Dad. What’s the plan for today?”
“We’re going back out. I found some tracks yesterday, and I want to follow them. See where they lead.”
I nod, feeling a mix of apprehension and resignation. I can see how much this means to him, how desperate he is for any kind of lead. “Alright. Let’s get packed and head out.”
We spend the morning preparing, loading up our gear and double-checking our supplies. Dad is meticulous, going over everything with a fine-toothed comb. I try to match his focus, but my mind keeps drifting back to Leah and the dream I had. Her words echo in my head, cryptic and unsettling: “You need to know the truth.”
We set off into the woods, the air crisp and cool. The forest is alive with the sounds of birds and rustling leaves, but it all feels distant, like background noise to the tension between us. Dad leads the way, his eyes scanning the ground for any sign of the tracks he found yesterday.
As we walk, I can’t help but notice how erratically he’s acting. He mutters to himself, his eyes darting around as if expecting something to jump out at us. His grip on his rifle is tight, his knuckles white.
“Dad, are you okay?” I ask, trying to keep my voice steady.
He glances at me, his expression unreadable. “I’m fine. Just focused.”
He stops frequently to examine the ground or the bark of trees, pointing out marks and signs that seem meaningless to me.
“Look at this,” he says, crouching down to examine a broken branch. “See how it’s snapped? That’s not a deer or a bear. That’s something bigger. Stronger.”
I crouch next to Dad, squinting at the broken branch. To me, it just looks like a regular broken branch, the kind you see all over the forest. "I don't know, Dad. It just looks like a branch to me," I say, trying to keep my voice neutral.
Dad's eyes flicker with frustration. "You're not looking close enough. It's the way it's snapped—too clean, too deliberate. Something did this."
I nod, not wanting to argue. "Okay, sure. But even if you're right, it could be anything. A storm, another hunter..."
His expression hardens. "I know what I'm looking for. This is different."
I sigh, feeling the weight of the past and the tension between us pressing down on me. "Dad, I had a dream last night. About Leah." The words hang in the air between us, heavy and fraught with unspoken emotions.
Dad's eyes widen, and he straightens up, his entire demeanor shifting. "What kind of dream? What did you see?" His voice is urgent, almost desperate.
"It was... strange. We were in the woods, like we are now, but everything felt different. Leah was there, running ahead of me, laughing. Then she stopped and told me I needed to know the truth, that it wasn't what I thought."
Dad grabs my shoulders, his grip tight. "What else did she say? Did she tell you anything specific? Anything about the creature?"
I shake my head, feeling a chill run down my spine. "No, that was it. She just said I needed to know the truth, and then she was gone."
Dad’s grip on my shoulders tightens, and his eyes bore into mine with a mixture of desperation and hope. “Ryan, you have to try to remember. Think hard. What did the creature look like? Did you see anything else?”
I pull back slightly, uneasy with his intensity. “Dad, I told you. I don’t remember. It was just a dream. A nightmare, really. My mind’s probably just mixing things up.”
He lets go of me and runs a hand through his hair, looking frustrated and lost. “Dreams can be important. They can hold memories we’ve buried deep. Please, try to remember. This could be a sign, a clue.”
I rub my temples, feeling the beginnings of a headache. “I’ve tried, okay? I’ve tried for years to piece together what happened that day. But it’s all just fragments, like pieces of a puzzle that don’t fit. The dream… it felt real, but I don’t think it’s telling me anything new.”
Dad’s face falls, and he looks older than I’ve ever seen him. He turns away, staring into the forest as if it holds all the answers.
—
As we make our way back to the cabin, the sun begins to set, casting long shadows through the trees. The air grows colder, and I shiver, pulling my jacket tighter around me. Dad is silent, lost in his thoughts, his face drawn and haggard.
Back at the cabin, we unload our gear once again in silence. Dad disappears into his room, muttering something about going over his notes. I decide to explore the cabin, hoping to find something that might help me understand what’s going on with him.
In the attic, I find a box of old family photos and documents. As I sift through the contents, I come across a worn journal with Dad’s handwriting on the cover. Curiosity gets the better of me, and I open it, flipping through the pages.
The journal is filled with notes and sketches, detailing his obsession with the dogman. But there’s something else—entries that talk about Leah, about that day in the woods. His handwriting becomes more erratic, the words harder to read. One entry stands out, dated just a few days after Leah’s death:
“June 15, 2013 – It was supposed to be a normal trip. Keep them close, Frank, I kept telling myself. But I failed. Leah is gone, and it’s my fault. I heard her scream, saw the shadows. I tried to get to her, but… the thing, it was there. Too fast. Too strong. My hands… blood everywhere. No one will believe me. I can’t even believe myself. I have to find it. I have to protect Ryan. I have to make it right. God, what have I done?”
Before I can read further, the attic door creaks open, and Dad’s voice slices through the stillness.
“What are you doing up here?” His tone is sharp, almost panicked.
I turn to see him standing in the doorway, his face pale and his eyes wide with something between anger and fear. I clutch the journal to my chest, my mind racing. “I found this… I was just trying to understand…”
In an instant, he crosses the room and snatches the journal from my hands. His grip is tight, his knuckles white. “You had no right,” he growls, his voice trembling.
“Dad, I just wanted to know the truth!” I shout, frustration boiling over. “What really happened to Leah.”
His eyes flash with a mix of rage and anguish, and before I can react, he slaps me across the face. The force of it knocks me off balance, and I stumble backward, my cheek stinging.
For a moment, there’s a stunned silence. We both stand there, breathing hard, the air thick with tension.
“I’m sorry,” Dad says finally, his voice barely a whisper. “I didn’t mean to… I just…” He trails off, clutching the journal to his chest like a lifeline.
I touch my cheek, feeling the heat from the slap, and take a deep breath, trying to steady myself. “Dad, what aren’t you telling me? What really happened that day?”
“Stay out of it, Ryan,” Dad growls, his eyes dark with anger. “You don’t know what you’re messing with.”
He turns and storms out of the attic. I’m left standing there, my cheek throbbing, my mind racing. What the fuck is going on? What really happened to Leah? And what is Dad so afraid of?
—
That night, I sleep with my rifle within arm's reach, more afraid of my dad than any dogman. The slap still burns on my cheek, and the look in his eyes—rage, fear, something darker—haunts me. I lie awake, listening to the creaks and groans of the old cabin, every sound amplified in the stillness. Eventually, exhaustion pulls me under, and I fall into a restless sleep.
The dream returns, vivid and unsettling. I'm back in the woods, chasing after Leah. Her laughter echoes through the trees, a haunting reminder of happier times. This time, though, I push myself harder, refusing to let her slip away.
"Ryan, catch me!" she calls, her voice playful.
"I'm coming, Leah!" I shout, my legs pumping, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
The forest around us is a twisted, shadowy maze, the trees seeming to close in on us. Leah's figure becomes clearer, her blonde hair catching the dim light filtering through the canopy. She stops suddenly, turning to face me, her eyes wide with fear.
"Leah, what is it?" I ask, my voice trembling.
"Look behind you," she whispers, her voice barely audible.
I turn slowly, dread creeping up my spine. In the shadows, I see a figure, its form indistinct and shifting. It’s not quite animal, not quite human—something in between. The sight of it sends a jolt of terror through me, and I wake up with a start, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
I’m not in my bed. The ground beneath me is cold and hard, the smell of damp earth filling my nostrils. Panic rises as I realize I’ve sleepwalked into the woods. I scramble to my feet, my eyes adjusting to the dim light. The moon casts a pale glow over the surroundings, revealing what looks like a long-abandoned animal lair.
The walls are covered in giant claw marks, deep gouges in the wood and earth. The air is heavy with the scent of decay, and a chill runs through me. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m being watched.
Carefully, I start to move, my eyes scanning the ground, desperate for a familiar landmark. That's when I see them—faded scraps of fabric caught on the jagged edges of the underbrush. My steps falter, a sense of dread washing over me as I bend down to examine them. The fabric is torn, weathered by time and the elements, but unmistakably familiar. It's part of Leah's jacket—the bright pink one she wore on the day she disappeared.
As I strain to make sense of it all, a rustling sound behind me snaps my focus. My heart leaps into my throat. I spin around, my hand instinctively reaching for the rifle I don't have—because, of course, I didn't bring it in my unconscious state.
The shadowy figure that emerges from the trees is unsettlingly familiar, mirroring the menacing forms of my nightmares. But as it steps into the moonlight, I recognize the worn jacket, the weary posture. It's Dad.
"Ryan!" he calls out, his voice a mix of relief and stern concern. "I've been looking everywhere for you. What the hell are you doing out here?"
I exhale slowly, the terror ebbing away as reality sets back in. "I—I don't know, Dad. I must've sleepwalked again." My voice is shaky, my earlier dream still clinging to the edges of my consciousness.
Dad stares at me in disbelief. "You haven't sleepwalked since you were a kid, Ry. This... this isn't just a coincidence." His eyes dart around, taking in the surroundings—the eerie, claw-marked den, the unsettling quiet of the woods. "How did you even find this place?"
I shake my head, struggling to find an answer. "I don't know, Dad. I just... I woke up here." The uncertainty in my voice does nothing to ease the tension.
His eyes lock onto the tattered remains of Leah's jacket in my hands, and something inside him snaps. The color drains from his face as he stumbles a few steps backward. "This... this is where it happened," he murmurs, his voice barely a whisper. “This is where we found Leah."
“I thought you said you don’t remember anything from that night,” he says accusingly.
"I swear, Dad, I don't know anything about this place," I insist, my own heart pounding.
“It was you, wasn’t it? You’ve been hiding this from me.” His voice is frantic. “You... last night, the growling, it was you.” His voice rises, tinged with hysteria.
I step back, my pulse racing, feeling the chill of the night and the weight of his accusation. "Dad, I don't know what you're talking ab—”
"No!" he interrupts, his voice breaking as he points a trembling finger at me. "You knew, you always knew. It was you, Ryan. All these years, the evidence was right there, but I refused to see it. You were the dogman. You killed Leah!"
His words hit me like a physical blow, absurd and horrifying in their implications. "Dad, you're not making any sense. You're talking crazy! I was just a little kid! How could I–" I protest, my voice shaky.
He steps closer, his presence looming over me, the outline of his figure distorted by the shadows of the trees. "Think about it! It all makes sense now. You led us here, to this place, because you remember. Because you did it."
"Dad, stop it!" I shout, my heart pounding in my chest. "You're scaring me. You need help, professional help. This isn't you."
But he's beyond reason, his eyes wild with a haunted grief. "I have to end this," he mutters, more to himself than to me, his hand tightening around his rifle.
His finger hovers dangerously over the trigger of his rifle. My instincts kick in, and I know I have to act fast.
I lunge toward him, trying to knock the weapon away, but he's quicker than I expected. We struggle, our breaths heavy in the cold night air, the sounds of our scuffle the only noise in the otherwise silent woods. His strength surprises me, fueled by his frantic emotions. He shoves me back, and I stumble over a root, my balance lost for a crucial second. That's all he needs. He raises his rifle, his intentions clear in his wild, pained eyes.
I dive to the ground just as the shot rings out, a deafening blast that echoes ominously through the trees. The bullet whizzes past, narrowly missing me, embedding itself in the bark of an old pine. I scramble to my feet, my heart pounding in my ears, and I start running. The underbrush claws at my clothes and skin, but I push through, driven by a primal urge to survive.
"Dad, stop! It's me, Ryan!" I shout back as I dodge between the trees. Another shot breaks the silence, closer this time, sending splinters of wood flying from a nearby tree trunk. It's surreal, being hunted by my own father, a man tormented by grief and lost in his delusions.
I don't stop to look back. I can hear him crashing through the forest behind me, his heavy breaths and muttered curses carried on the wind. The terrain is rough, and I'm fueled by adrenaline, but exhaustion is setting in. I need a plan.
Ahead, I see a rocky outcrop and make a split-second decision to head for it. It offers a chance to hide, to catch my breath and maybe reason with him if he catches up. As I reach the rocks, I slip behind the largest one, my body pressed tight against the cold, damp surface. I hear his footsteps approaching, slow and cautious now.
As I press against the rock, trying to calm my racing heart, I can hear Dad's footsteps drawing closer, each step crunching ominously on the forest floor. He's methodical, deliberate, like a hunter stalking his prey.
“Come out, Ryan!” Dad’s voice is ragged, filled with a blend of fury and pain.
My heart pounds against my chest, the cold sweat on my back making me shiver against the rough surface of the rock. I know I can't just sit here; it's only a matter of time before he finds me.
Taking a deep breath, I peek around the edge of the rock, trying to gauge his position. I see him, rifle raised, scanning the area slowly. This might be my only chance to end this madness without further violence. I need to disarm him, to talk some sense into him if I can.
As quietly as I can, I move out from behind the rock, my steps careful to avoid any twigs or leaves that might betray my position. I'm almost upon him when a branch snaps under my foot—a sound so trivial yet so alarmingly loud in the quiet of the woods.
Dad whirls around, looking completely unhinged. "Ryan!" he exclaims, his rifle swinging in my direction. Panic overtakes me, and I lunge forward, my hands reaching for the gun.
We struggle, the rifle between us, our breaths heavy and erratic. "Dad, please, stop!" I plead, trying to wrestle the gun away. But he's strong, stronger than I expected.
In the chaos, the rifle goes off. The sound is deafening, a sharp echo that seems to reverberate off every tree around us. Pain explodes in my abdomen, sharp and burning, like nothing I've ever felt before. I stagger back, my hands instinctively going to the wound. The warmth of my own blood coats my fingers, stark and terrifying.
Dad drops the rifle, his eyes wide with horror. "Oh my God! What have I done?" he gasps, rushing to my side as I collapse onto the forest floor.
As the pain sears through me, a strange, overpowering energy surges within. It's wild, primal, unlike anything I've ever experienced. Looking down in horror, my hands are no longer hands but large, hairy, clawed appendages. The transformation is rapid, consuming—my vision blurs, senses heighten, and a raw, guttural growl builds in my throat.
In that moment, a flood of understanding washes over me, mingling with the horror of realization. These are the hands of the creature from my nightmares, the creature whose face I can never fully recall because, as I now understand, it is me.
What happens next feels detached, as if I'm no longer in control of my own actions, watching from a distance as my body moves on its own. I turn towards my dad, his face a mask of terror. He stumbles back, his eyes wide with the dawning realization of what his son has become.
The forest around us seems to fall silent, holding its breath as the nightmarish scene unfolds. I can hear my own growls, guttural and deep, filling the air with a sound that's both foreign and intimately familiar. The pain in my abdomen fuels a dark, violent urge, an urge that's too strong to resist.
With a ferocity that feels both alien and intrinsic, I move towards him. My dad, paralyzed by fear and shock, doesn't run. Maybe he can't. Maybe he doesn't want to.
The encounter is brutal and swift, a blur of motion and violence. My dad barely puts up a struggle, as though resigned to his fate.
Not that there is anything he can do. The creature that I’ve become is too powerful, too consumed by the wild instincts surging through me. I tear him apart, limb from bloody limb, my hands—no, my claws—rending through fabric and flesh with disgusting ease.
The sound of my dad’s screams, of tearing fabric and flesh is drowned out by the animalistic growls that echo through the trees.
When it’s all over, the red mist that had clouded my vision begins to fade, and the fierce, uncontrollable rage that drove my actions subsides. I'm left standing, my breaths heavy and erratic, in the eerie stillness of the forest. The transformation reverses as quickly as it came on, and I find myself back in my human form. My clothes are ripped to shreds, hanging off my frame in tattered remnants. At my feet lies what’s left of my dad, his body torn and unrecognizable.
I glance down at my abdomen, expecting agony, but instead find my wound miraculously healed. No sign of the gunshot remains, just a faint scar where I expected a bloody mess.
Shock sets in, a numbing disbelief mixed with a gut-wrenching realization of what I've become and what I've done. My hands, now human again, tremble as I look at them, half-expecting to see the claws that had so effortlessly ripped through flesh and bone. But there's only blood, my father's blood against my skin.
I stand there for what feels like an eternity, trapped in a nightmare of my own making.
Eventually, the shock wears thin, and a cold practicality takes hold. I need to get out of here. I need to cover my tracks, to disappear. Because who would believe this? Who would understand that I didn't choose this, that I'm not a monster by choice?
With trembling hands, I do what’s necessary. I bury my dad in a shallow grave, the physical act of digging strangely grounding. I cover him with leaves and branches, a pitiful attempt to hide the brutality of his end. I take a moment, whispering apologies into the wind, knowing full well that nothing I say can change what happened.
I leave the forest behind, my mind a whirl of dark thoughts. As I walk, the first hints of dawn brush against the horizon, the sky bleeding a soft pink. It’s hauntingly beautiful.
submitted by PageTurner627 to scarystories [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 19:35 crusify_me Ultimate Pokemon 151 (S/V 151) Pull Guide

~Ultimate Pokemon 151 (S/V 151) Pull Guide~
Introduction:
Trying to complete the Master Set? Need that dopamine rush? This guide breaks down all you need to know about the S/V 151 set, easily the hottest set in the S/V series.

~Terminology:~
HR- Hyper Rare
SIR- Special Illustration Rare
IR- Illustration Rare
UR- Ultra Rare
DR- Double Rare
RH- Reverse Holo
Booster Pack- a pack of S/V 151 cards. Contains 12 cards.
UPC- Ultra Premium Collection
ETB- Elite Trainer Box

~Rarity:~ (below are rates of pulling each rarity per booster pack)
HR- 1/51 chance. Gold border cards. Three gold stars at the bottom. These are technically the “rarest” cards in this set. There are three HRs: Mew, Switch and Psychic Energy. It’s a 1/154 chance to get a specific HR. Who cares? These cards are underwhelming.
SIR- 1/32 chance. These are the “money cards”. Two gold stars at the bottom. Have a glittery, textured border. These are why I pull this set as the “chase” card in this set, Charizard, is here. There are seven SIRs: Venusaur, Charizard, Blastoise, Alakazam, Zapdos, Erika’s Invitation, Giovanni’s Charisma. It’s a 1/224 chance to get a specific SIR (meaning 1/224 or 0.45% to pull a SIR Charizard per booster pack).
IR- 1/12 chance. I sometimes call these Full Arts (FA). One gold star at the bottom. These cards look nice. Regular borders but the entire card is a full art. There are 16 IRs: Bulba, Ivy, Charmander, Charmeleon, Squirtle, Wartortle, Caterpie, Pika, Nido, Psyduck, Poliwhirl, Machoke, Tangela, Mime, Omanyte and Dragonair. It’s a 1/192 chance to pull a specific IR.
UR- 1/16 chance. I sometimes call these “Alt-Art” as well. Two silver stars at the bottom. Basically a close-up of the Pokemon with a single-colored background. TBH, I think these look kinda “meh” but the UR Charizard is worth some $$$. There are 16 URs: Venusaur, Zard, Blastoise, Arbok, Ninetales, Wigglytuff, Alakazam, Golem, Kanga, Jynx, Zapdos, Mew, Bill’s Transfer, Daisy’s Help, Erika’s Invitation. It’s a 1/256 chance to get a specific UR (getting a specific UR is mathematically the hardest thing to get in this set).
DR- 1/8 chance. I just called the “Regular EXs” or “EX”. Two black stars at the bottom. Don’t really care about these cards. The Mew EXs were worth like $10-15 early on cuz they saw some competitive use, but who cares now. There are DRs: Venu, Zard, Blastoise, Arbok (there’s a video of me ripping this card cuz I was so pissed), Ninetales, Wiggly, Alakazam, Golem, Kanga, Jynx, Zapdos, Mew. It’s a 1/96 chance to get a specific DR.
RH- you get two per booster pack. If you get lucky, one of those RHs can be replaced with a SIR. More of this later in “What to Expect…” section.

~What to Expect in a Booster Pack~
- 12 cards in total. Below is the order the cards appear if you don’t move them.
1) Code Card (for online TCG)
2) Common
3) Common
4) Common
5) Common
6) Common
7) Uncommon
8) Uncommon
9) Uncommon
10) RH (99.999%), IR Bulba/CharmandeSquirtle (>0.001%)**
11) RH (96.875%), SIR (3.125%), IR Ivy/Charmeleon/Wartortle (>0.001%)**
12) Rare (81.25%), DR (12.5%) UR (6.25%), SIR Venu/Zard/Blastoise (>0.001%)**
As you can see, only cards #10, 11, 12 matter with card #11 being the “money card”.
** This indicates the event of a “god pack” being pulled where cards #10, 11 and 12 get replaced with Bulba (IR), Ivy (IR) and Venu (SIR), the Charmander line or the Squirtle line. Extremely rare. In ~1000 packs pulled, my buddy and I have only gotten one god pack of a 151 Tin.

~S/V 151 Products~
This is one of the only sets where a Booster Box (36 booster packs in one box) is not available. Smart on them to make more $$$ but shucks for us. Below are the products you can buy for booster packs:
- UPC (aka Mew Box. Contains 16 booster packs and Mew, Mewtwo promos)
- ETB (aka Snorlax Box. Contains 9 booster packs and Snorlax promo)
- ETB Pokemon Center (Snorlax Box w/ Pkmn Center logo and 11 boosters)
- Booster Bundle (6 booster packs)
- Alakazam EX Collection (4 boosters + Alakazam line promos)
- Zapdos EX Collection (4 boosters + Zapdos, Electabuzz promos)
- Binder Collections (4 boosters + 151 Binder)
- Poster Collection (3 boosters + Bulba/ChaSquirt promos + poster)
- 151 Tins (Each tin contains 2 boosters + a coin some shit)
Basically, if you’re serious about opening packs, the promos don’t matter since you’ll have a boatload of that crap and you just care about the lowest $$ per booster pack. I would say $5 USD or lower per booster pack is a good deal; $6 USD is aight. Do the math yourself.
Be on the lookout for products on sale. Check your Facebook, join Discord channels and check flyers for stores like Target, Costco, Wal-Mart for deals.

~Completing your Master Collection~
What is a Master Collection? Basically you have all 153 RHs, 12 DRs, URs, IRs, SIRs, HRs and Energies. Start spending some $$$ and rip packs.
For those nerds out there, you can try completing what I call a Master Master Collection (Basically what I have, get on my level). You need all cards above + all promos. Here are the 21 promos I’ve seen so far:
1) Bulbasaur, Charmander, Squirtle promo (from Poster Collection)
2) Abra, Kadabra, Alakazam promo (from Alakazam EX Collection)
3) Zapdos, Giant Zapdos, Electabuzz (from Zapdos EX Collection)
4) Mew, Metal Mew, Mewtwo (from UPC)
5) Snorlax (from ETB)
6) Pokemon Centre Snorlax (from Pokemon Center ETB)
7) S/V 151 Bulbasaur Promo (Stamped)
8) Gamestop Charmander
9) EB Games Charmander
10) Pokemon Centre Squirtle (RH)
11) Pokemon Centre Squirtle (non RH)
12) Pikachu (Pokemon Together)
13) Eevee (Pokemon Together)

~Batching~
What is batching? Basically, the cards get printed in “batches” and there’s the myth that certain batches contain more rare cards than others. There may be some truth to this but who knows. During the release of 151, I was maybe getting a hit ~40% of the time with SIRs galore and after a few months it really died down to about 25%. Currently Costco is selling Alazakam + Zapdos Bundles together and from what I’ve seen the hits are insane (back to ~40% with SIRs galore).
submitted by crusify_me to pkmntcgcollections [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 19:32 crusify_me Ultimate Pokemon 151 (S/V 151) Pull Guide

~Ultimate Pokemon 151 (S/V 151) Pull Guide~
Introduction:
Trying to complete the Master Set? Need that dopamine rush? This guide breaks down all you need to know about the S/V 151 set, easily the hottest set in the S/V series.

~Terminology:~
HR- Hyper Rare
SIR- Special Illustration Rare
IR- Illustration Rare
UR- Ultra Rare
DR- Double Rare
RH- Reverse Holo
Booster Pack- a pack of S/V 151 cards. Contains 12 cards.
UPC- Ultra Premium Collection
ETB- Elite Trainer Box

~Rarity:~ (below are rates of pulling each rarity per booster pack)
HR- 1/51 chance. Gold border cards. Three gold stars at the bottom. These are technically the “rarest” cards in this set. There are three HRs: Mew, Switch and Psychic Energy. It’s a 1/154 chance to get a specific HR. Who cares? These cards are underwhelming.
SIR- 1/32 chance. These are the “money cards”. Two gold stars at the bottom. Have a glittery, textured border. These are why I pull this set as the “chase” card in this set, Charizard, is here. There are seven SIRs: Venusaur, Charizard, Blastoise, Alakazam, Zapdos, Erika’s Invitation, Giovanni’s Charisma. It’s a 1/224 chance to get a specific SIR (meaning 1/224 or 0.45% to pull a SIR Charizard per booster pack).
IR- 1/12 chance. I sometimes call these Full Arts (FA). One gold star at the bottom. These cards look nice. Regular borders but the entire card is a full art. There are 16 IRs: Bulba, Ivy, Charmander, Charmeleon, Squirtle, Wartortle, Caterpie, Pika, Nido, Psyduck, Poliwhirl, Machoke, Tangela, Mime, Omanyte and Dragonair. It’s a 1/192 chance to pull a specific IR.
UR- 1/16 chance. I sometimes call these “Alt-Art” as well. Two silver stars at the bottom. Basically a close-up of the Pokemon with a single-colored background. TBH, I think these look kinda “meh” but the UR Charizard is worth some $$$. There are 16 URs: Venusaur, Zard, Blastoise, Arbok, Ninetales, Wigglytuff, Alakazam, Golem, Kanga, Jynx, Zapdos, Mew, Bill’s Transfer, Daisy’s Help, Erika’s Invitation. It’s a 1/256 chance to get a specific UR (getting a specific UR is mathematically the hardest thing to get in this set).
DR- 1/8 chance. I just called the “Regular EXs” or “EX”. Two black stars at the bottom. Don’t really care about these cards. The Mew EXs were worth like $10-15 early on cuz they saw some competitive use, but who cares now. There are DRs: Venu, Zard, Blastoise, Arbok (there’s a video of me ripping this card cuz I was so pissed), Ninetales, Wiggly, Alakazam, Golem, Kanga, Jynx, Zapdos, Mew. It’s a 1/96 chance to get a specific DR.
RH- you get two per booster pack. If you get lucky, one of those RHs can be replaced with a SIR. More of this later in “What to Expect…” section.

~What to Expect in a Booster Pack~
- 12 cards in total. Below is the order the cards appear if you don’t move them.
1) Code Card (for online TCG)
2) Common
3) Common
4) Common
5) Common
6) Common
7) Uncommon
8) Uncommon
9) Uncommon
10) RH (99.999%), IR Bulba/CharmandeSquirtle (>0.001%)**
11) RH (96.875%), SIR (3.125%), IR Ivy/Charmeleon/Wartortle (>0.001%)**
12) Rare (81.25%), DR (12.5%) UR (6.25%), SIR Venu/Zard/Blastoise (>0.001%)**
As you can see, only cards #10, 11, 12 matter with card #11 being the “money card”.
** This indicates the event of a “god pack” being pulled where cards #10, 11 and 12 get replaced with Bulba (IR), Ivy (IR) and Venu (SIR), the Charmander line or the Squirtle line. Extremely rare. In ~1000 packs pulled, my buddy and I have only gotten one god pack of a 151 Tin.

~S/V 151 Products~
This is one of the only sets where a Booster Box (36 booster packs in one box) is not available. Smart on them to make more $$$ but shucks for us. Below are the products you can buy for booster packs:
- UPC (aka Mew Box. Contains 16 booster packs and Mew, Mewtwo promos)
- ETB (aka Snorlax Box. Contains 9 booster packs and Snorlax promo)
- ETB Pokemon Center (Snorlax Box w/ Pkmn Center logo and 11 boosters)
- Booster Bundle (6 booster packs)
- Alakazam EX Collection (4 boosters + Alakazam line promos)
- Zapdos EX Collection (4 boosters + Zapdos, Electabuzz promos)
- Binder Collections (4 boosters + 151 Binder)
- Poster Collection (3 boosters + Bulba/ChaSquirt promos + poster)
- 151 Tins (Each tin contains 2 boosters + a coin some shit)
Basically, if you’re serious about opening packs, the promos don’t matter since you’ll have a boatload of that crap and you just care about the lowest $$ per booster pack. I would say $5 USD or lower per booster pack is a good deal; $6 USD is aight. Do the math yourself.
Be on the lookout for products on sale. Check your Facebook, join Discord channels and check flyers for stores like Target, Costco, Wal-Mart for deals.

~Completing your Master Collection~
What is a Master Collection? Basically you have all 153 RHs, 12 DRs, URs, IRs, SIRs, HRs and Energies. Start spending some $$$ and rip packs.
For those nerds out there, you can try completing what I call a Master Master Collection (Basically what I have, get on my level). You need all cards above + all promos. Here are the 21 promos I’ve seen so far:
1) Bulbasaur, Charmander, Squirtle promo (from Poster Collection)
2) Abra, Kadabra, Alakazam promo (from Alakazam EX Collection)
3) Zapdos, Giant Zapdos, Electabuzz (from Zapdos EX Collection)
4) Mew, Metal Mew, Mewtwo (from UPC)
5) Snorlax (from ETB)
6) Pokemon Centre Snorlax (from Pokemon Center ETB)
7) S/V 151 Bulbasaur Promo (Stamped)
8) Gamestop Charmander
9) EB Games Charmander
10) Pokemon Centre Squirtle (RH)
11) Pokemon Centre Squirtle (non RH)
12) Pikachu (Pokemon Together)
13) Eevee (Pokemon Together)

~Batching~
What is batching? Basically, the cards get printed in “batches” and there’s the myth that certain batches contain more rare cards than others. There may be some truth to this but who knows. During the release of 151, I was maybe getting a hit ~40% of the time with SIRs galore and after a few months it really died down to about 25%. Currently Costco is selling Alazakam + Zapdos Bundles together and from what I’ve seen the hits are insane (back to ~40% with SIRs galore).
submitted by crusify_me to PokemonTCG [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 19:27 BluKnight10 (M4F) Looking for long term RP partner

hi I'm 24 years old with long experience in RP and focus mostly on Anime related RPs mostly like Slice of life and fantasy and can discuss any ideas in mind if you have most of my RPs are SFW to build up if you want! and that's all any more things can be discussed! and this is a story i have ready for now if anyone interested! and hopefully we can have fun together!
"In a world where elemental magic reigns supreme, four majestic kingdoms stand as pillars of power and influence. The Crystaline Kingdom, nestled in a land of shimmering ice and frosty magic, is home to resilient frost giants and graceful snow elves, their ancient ice castles serving as bastions of strength and wisdom. Across the vast expanse of Emberland, the fiery domain pulses with energy and ambition, ruled by those who harness the power of flames and flames alike, their mighty citadels rising from the scorched earth as testaments to their prowess. In the Terra Kingdom, where earth magic intertwines with the harmony of nature, dwarves and gnomes tread the fertile soil, their cities carved deep into the mountainsides and hidden within the ancient forests. Meanwhile, the Verdant Land serves as a lush and vibrant sanctuary, a neutral haven where races of all kinds coexist in peace and harmony, their tranquil lakes and rolling meadows a refuge from the chaos of the outside world. But beyond the known realms lies the Shadowlands, a mysterious and foreboding continent shrouded in darkness, harboring unknown dangers and ancient secrets, its very name whispered in fear by those who dare to speak of it. Amidst this tapestry of kingdoms and landscapes stands the prestigious Academy of Spira, a beacon of knowledge and power for aspiring mages and warriors alike. Nestled amidst the breathtaking landscapes of the Crystaline Kingdom, Emberland, Terra Kingdom, and Verdant Land, this renowned institution serves as a melting pot of cultures and talents, drawing students from far and wide to hone their skills in the arcane arts. Within its hallowed halls, friendships are forged, rivalries kindled, and destinies shaped, as students from diverse backgrounds come together to unravel the mysteries of magic and prepare for the challenges that lie ahead.
The Academy of Spira is not just a place of learning; it is a sanctuary for those who seek to harness the power of the elements and shape the world around them. From the towering spires of the library, where ancient tomes and scrolls hold the secrets of forgotten magics, to the sprawling training grounds, where students hone their combat skills under the watchful eye of seasoned warriors, every corner of the academy pulses with the energy of discovery and growth. Here, students are encouraged to push the boundaries of their abilities, to explore new avenues of magic and combat, and to forge their own path in a world where anything is possible. As the story unfolds, two characters from different paths and kingdoms find themselves drawn to the academy's gates, where their journey begins amidst a world of intrigue, danger, and endless possibilities."
if interested DM me please or if u have any question! :3
submitted by BluKnight10 to Roleplay [link] [comments]

2024.05.19 19:02 villainouscinema The Last Voyage of the Demeter (2023) via Villainous Cinema

a review by Evan Landon
I remember distinctly the first time I saw the trailer for Last Voyage of the Demeter and just shaking my head as they butchered Bullet With Butterfly Wings with some stupid techno downbeat. Why do they do that shit? They take a song that everybody knows, then shoehorn that shit in so hard that it's comical. “The world is a vampire” with a bunch of reverb and synth drums while a monster stalks his prey is so corny and lazy that I want to punch a kitten. “Oh, it's a movie about vampires? Ohhhh let's put that one Smashing Pumpkins song in it and make it suck.” Talentless, generic hacks are behind that brilliance on every level, I'm telling you. After seeing the 1931 Tod Browning movie as a kid, I immediately wanted to read the 1897 Bram Stoker novel from where it originated, and I have to say that it was not the kind of read I was expecting. The entire novel is told through letters, journals, and newspaper articles which is not the kind of thing one would expect when it comes to one of the first horror stories, but that also was what gave it its appeal, I think. It was different... Just because something is different does not make it good; however, this one was good enough to be adapted into a stage play in 1924 by Hamilton Dean & John L. Balderston. Hey, that was 100 years ago! I bring the whole Dracula origin because that is the part in the novel (Chapter 7, to be exact) where it is told through the Captain's Log which I found the most tedious and somewhat boring. When they said that they were doing a film based on that, I was very quick to dismiss it when it finally arrived, but watching it gave me a different feeling altogether. Was it a good feeling? Meh. What I did enjoy about this movie was how they were able to somewhat build a narrative out of a nothing burger in the novel. The gore is adequate for CGI, so I don't worry too much about that because there are some okay close-ups that make up for it practically. The acting is on point too with Liam Cunningham as The Captain, David Dastmalchian as his first mate, and Corey Hawkins as the ship's doctor. The only problem I have with having a black doctor on the boat in the 19th century is that there were not a lot of black doctors (Cambridge alumni or not) around at that time, so it's shoved in there pretty hard with no real reason. They acknowledge it, but that does not change the conveniency of the writing. Then there is the Transylvanian woman who was placed on the boat for Dracula to snack on, so those boxes got ticked for the suits because everyone needs to have representation in every movie nowadays. What did not work was mostly the lack of gore or “Dracula” himself. We are used to seeing ol' Drac as a beguiling count who borders on romantic, then crosses that border. Also, the fog and mist coalescing with the lack of lighting and flowing motions of the camera makes this difficult to see, much less watch. Although the acting is great, the characters and dialogue between are not interesting enough to truly value and what would stand as a story is very flimsy; but again, there was not much to work with in one chapter of a novel that is basically just a captain's log. When you have tentpoles so weak to build upon, I guess what you want is something outrageous to gain some weight. What is the story, you ask? A 19th Century English supply ship named the “Demeter” is coming from Romania to Britain and its contents happen to contain a monster that feasts on human blood. Chaos ensues, as the crew not only try to make it to shore, but also to save their lives. Maybe even their souls! The Last Voyage of the Demeter is an interesting look at the most overlooked part of the source material, but nobody really has any original ideas anymore, so might as well. Released by DreamWorks Pictures, it pulled in $21.8 million against a $45 million budget, so I would not expect to see a sequel that was teased at the end. This is the end, for this movie, anyways. With all the other “Dracula” movies out there, I'd say go with one of those instead if you are looking for the classic Dracula character. It's literally just a giant CGI man-bat version of it, which works and doesn't at the same time.
2.5 out of 5
submitted by villainouscinema to moviereviews [link] [comments]

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