Looking For Trouble 3

There are always plenty of stories surrounding any kind of wilderness; some are mundane, others are a bit more fantastical. In any rural area, you could find tales of shapeshifters, demons, ghosts, and seven foot tall monkey people just by asking around. Some fully believe them to be true, claiming they themselves have had encounters with these beings. Others might say they're leftovers of ancient legends, stuff that got passed down and distorted through the generations. A few believe they're just hoaxes for attention, conjured up by a couple bored teens with a halloween costume and a video camera. My name is John Dennil, and whatever the truth of those legends were, I was bound to find out. This search for truth was what lead me down a hardly-used dirt road in the middle of nowhere during a chilly afternoon in autumn.

The locals had reported a few cases of sighting wolf creatures of some kind, claiming they stood two heads higher than a man and had the strength of a full-grown bear. They called it the dogman, although some speculated it was closer to a wolf than an actual dog. Most of the sightings had come from one spot in particular, so I quickly decided on a good spot to go camping. I figured I'd set up some night vision cameras in the woods, spend the night camping, then see what popped up in the morning. It was a simple plan, and one I was sure couldn't go wrong in the slightest.

My battered jeep finally pulled up to the secluded, hardly used trailhead, its headlights picking out the white letters from the vine covered sign. "Glen Creek Trail," I thought to myself, "Looks like the right place." I swung open the door and dropped to the leaf-covered asphalt, my shoes crunching on a carpet of fallen leaves. The cool autumn air tugged at my short black hair, and the afternoon sun cast the forest in a pleasant orange glow. I snuck over to the trunk of the jeep and popped it open, then took my bags out of the back. First came my trusty backpack, then the sleeping bag and tent, and finally the bag of remote camera equipment. I slammed the trunk closed with my one free hand, adjusted my grip on the bags, and began walking down the hardly-used trail.

Throughout my trip to the campsite I felt like eyes were on me. The woods may have been well lit, but most of the trees were big enough to hide a human... or something worse. It would be so easy for something to dart between them when I wasn't looking, to gradually sneak around to my backside, to get right behind me and BAM!

My heart nearly stopped as I whirled to look over my shoulder, my paranoia making it feel like something was about to jump right at my face. But, alas, all I found was the trail winding back the way I came. I tried to convince myself that nothing was out there, that I wasn't in any danger, but fearful panic managed to worm its way into my mind all the same. My legs picked up the pace as I went down the trail, silently begging for the safety of a clearing.

Eventually the overgrown trail led to a circular patch of open grass and fallen leaves, free from the undergrowth that cluttered just about everywhere else in these woods. I set down the camera gear and began opening up the tent, swiftly unpacking the metal rods and nylon tarp. It took a while to get the large structure set up, but when it was done I had a comfortably sized shelter from the cold. I then stepped inside and rolled out my sleeping bag, a big poofy thing that functioned equally well as bedding. Once my task of setting up my sleeping area was complete, I flopped down onto the sleeping bag for a well deserved rest. I'd just lay here for a bit, then get up and-

Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Something was moving out there on the fallen leaves, something big. Crunch. Crunch. Snuffle snuffle. Was it a bear? Maybe, but it didn't sound like something with four paws. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. Whatever it was was right beside the tent. I froze, every muscle in my body paralyzed by fear as whatever it was moved around out there. I could see a looming black shape outlined in the sun, bent over and carefully crawling on all fours. I could hear it sniffing at the base of the tent, perhaps picking up some scent of prey. Maybe I was that prey, I thought, and it was only a matter of time before the beast realized I was only a few feet from it. I could feel myself shaking, terrified by the thought that the only thing standing between me and a mouth of sharp teeth was a flimsy sheet of nylon.

I worked up the courage to start crawling to the middle of the tent, moving slowly so I didn't alert whatever was out there. It was circling over to the tent flap, getting closer to the entrance with every passing second. I could hear fur rubbing against the nylon, could smell a hint of primal musk, and could feel the aura of hunger in the air. The small part of my brain that could still reason argued that a few feet of distance wouldn't save me, but my body refused to listen as I crawled backwards. The thing was at the tent flap which I had foolishly left unzipped, continuing to sniff and snuffle around. Its nose was right at the entrance, its face began pushing in, and I could see its black nose peeking insi-

CRACK!

A big, brittle branch gave way under my palm, breaking the tension and nearly giving me a heart attack. Whatever it was bolted, running away in a flurry of scrabbling claws faster than any bear I had seen. After a second, all I could hear was the distant snapping of twigs and branches as whatever beast it was tore ass through the forest. It took me a moment to muster the courage to peek out of the tent, but when I did all I saw was some still-rustling bushes in the distance. Well, it wasn't all I saw; as I looked down, I noticed that the thing had left one very clear footprint in the grass.

Once I was sure that the thing was long gone, I stepped fully out of my tent, being careful to not ruin the footprint. I made my way over to my backpack, but once I got to it I realized it had been opened. It wasn't torn open, in fact it looked positively pristine, but most of the zippers had been undone. As I searched through the contents I realized that all the food that wasn't in airtight packaging had been stolen, while my survival gear and books had been left untouched. I reached in and grabbed "The Tracker's Handbook", then headed back to the footprint. I flipped the book open to its first few pages, looking down the list of archetypes. It didn't look like a bear print, it was too narrow and only had four toes. What it did look like was a wolf print, only it was too big to be any kind of wolf I'd heard of. I looked a bit closer and realized it had a lot more weight behind it as well, at least 100 pounds more than an average wolf. I went back to my backpack and found my forensic ruler, then laid it out next to the footprint. I took several pictures, showcasing the size and depth for future reference. This was some pretty solid proof for the dogman theory, but it would be far from enough to convince anyone important.

Afterwards, I got the bright idea to set up cameras all around the campsite, just in case this dogman/wolfman thing came back. I placed a few in the surrounding trees to cover all angles, making sure that anything that entered the clearing would get caught on camera. After a moment of thought I decided to put a camera in the corner of the tent as well, looking over at my sleeping bag. If that thing did come back, and this time made it into my tent... the optimist in me said I'd get some great footage, while the pessimist decided I'd be filming my own mauling. Either way I'd have solid proof that this thing existed.

I swiftly got all of the campground cameras hooked up to my laptop, and decided to take a peek. Camera 1... nothing. Camera 2... nothing. Camera 3... there was something. I could see some sort of figure crouched behind a bush at the edge of the clearing behind me, concealed just enough so that I couldn't tell what it was. It seemed big, though, and I guessed that it was the same creature that had been sniffing around my tent. I quickly ran through my options: I could take a camera over and investigate, I could go hide in my tent until it left, or I could just carry on placing cameras in the woods. Investigating was tempting, but it could just run away before I could get it on camera, or it could just rip my face clean off. Staying put was the safest bet, but it was getting dark; if I didn't get the rest of the cameras up soon, I'd be forced to work during the night when I could barely see. Just ignoring the thing and setting up the rest of the cameras seemed nonsensical at first, but the more I thought about it the more it made sense. I wouldn't be confronting the creature that was stalking me, and I could gather footage of the area during the whole night. It might be a bit more dangerous than hiding in the tent, but that thing already knew I was here and sturdy nylon wouldn't last a minute against bear-like claws.

With my plan of action decided on, I went back to my backpack and tucked my laptop inside. I slipped my arms through the straps, then took the bag of camera equipment in my hands and began heading off towards the woods. My whole body was tensed, waiting for the sound of claws running toward me, but no such sound came. I finally made it to the tree line, feeling relief wash over me. The relief was short lived, however, as I quickly realized the thing would have an even easier time stalking me with hundreds of trees to hide behind.

A few minutes in I decided on a spot to set up my first camera, a tall, slim tree with only a few flimsy branches. I took out the device, hooked it up to my laptop, and was about to start climbing when I saw something through the trees. It looked like some kind of scratching, carved onto a tree with bestial claws. At first I thought it was something a bear might do, but upon closer inspection I found it was too deep and deliberate for a bear. Maybe my mystery creature was the one to do this, I thought, in which case it must have some serious claws. Suddenly a thought occurred to me: maybe this was a spot the creature frequented. With that thought came a wave of paranoia, and I frantically scanned the forest around me. Nothing, or at least nothing I could see. Since I seemed to be in the clear, I climbed a few feet up a nearby tree and stabbed the camera into it. Each camera had a little piton attached, so that with a single strike of a hammer they could be put on just about any surface. I made sure to adjust the little lens to point straight at the claw mark, but right as I got it lined up I noticed something else: tracks.

They weren't very obvious from the ground, but from up in the tree I could make them out pretty clearly. A trail of crushed leaves and snapped twigs led off to the left, deeper into the woods. Once I got back down to the ground I could still make out the tracks, and I got up close to one of the clearer footprints. It was the same giant wolf pattern as the one at the clearing, with the same weight and everything. I quickly took pictures of the clearer prints with the forensic ruler, filing them away with a few quick taps. It wasn't much, but I figured any proof was good proof.

With the pictures taken, I grabbed the camera bag and started moving along the creature's trail. Every so often I would climb another tree and set up another camera, each time making sure to get a good shot of where the thing might go. There were plenty of other signs of its activity, scratched trees, tufts of greyish fur, even something that seemed like a primitive hunting trap. I started wondering if this thing was smarter than an animal, if maybe it was smart enough to use markers and traps. Maybe it was smart enough to find my cameras, especially if it was following me. I thought for a second about the danger of losing hundreds of dollars in equipment, but figured it was too late to go back and retrieve them. Besides, they all had trackers on them, and I'd seen them survive quite a bit of punishment.

After a few more minutes of trekking, the tracks led me to the mouth of a cave. It was fairly large, but pitch black inside, and where the light did shine I could see some small things scattered about. At first I thought they were leaves, but as I approached I realized they were the shredded remnants of the snacks from my backpack. Mixed in were the bones of some smaller animals, all of them picked clean and nearly bleached by the sun. It was hardly a good omen, and the feeling of having hidden eyes on me returned.

I swiftly got to work setting up the last of my two cameras, placing one in a tree overlooking the cave. If anything came in or out of that cave, I'd see it. Then I dropped back to the ground, and was faced with a choice: I could just head back to the campsite, or I could try investigating the cave. I took my last camera out and held it in my palm, running my eyes over the various wires and parts. Heading back would be the safest option, but there was no telling what proof I'd find down in the cave. I walked over to the cave mouth, my feet crunching on little bones, and tried to make out anything in the darkness. I stared into the depths of that cavern for quite a while, pondering the risks and rewards. It was sorely tempting to go exploring, but poking around the creature's lair made it even more likely for me to run into it. There was no telling how aggressive this thing would be on its own turf, and all the footage in the world wouldn't be worth dying over. Plus, I had less than half an hour of daylight left, and I didn't want to have to find my way back in pitch darkness. I finally came to the conclusion that it was just too risky, and that I should just go back to the clearing before it got dark. I turned around and began walking back to the campsite, when something landed behind me.

It hit the ground with a thud, 300 pounds of fur and muscle landing with catlike grace. I could hear it sniffing the air behind me, its heavy breaths underlining the tension. Yellowed leaves crunched under its paws as it took a few steps forward, getting close enough that I could feel the heat of each snuffle on the back of my neck. Fear paralyzed me, freezing my limbs in place and keeping me from thinking straight. The small sliver of my mind that was still rational screamed at me to run, but my body was unable to obey. As the thing continued to inhale my scent, it's paws went to my backpack, unzipping the main pouch and sticking its snout inside. When it didn't find any more food, it strangely changed its focus to the back of my neck. Its large, wet nose brushed against my skin, and I could hear it licking its chops in anticipation. After what seemed like an eternity of snuffling at my neck, something warm and wet rubbed against my ear. It was right then that I finally snapped, and I dropped the camera before taking off running.

I don't know how long I ran for, but I know I made it back to the clearing in record time. I frantically zipped myself up back inside my tent, making sure not to leave the flap unsecured this time. Once it was sealed I whipped out my laptop, moving to the camera uplink program with a few clicks. I scrolled through the feeds until I got to the one right outside the cave. Nothing interesting showed on the live feed, but as I rolled back the footage of the last few minutes I saw the creature run backwards on all fours to the mouth of the cave, then stand up straight. I paused it right as the thing got into view, inspecting the creature. It looked like some sort of hulking werewolf, with shaggy fur in the same pattern as that of a timberwolf. Looking a bit closer, I realized that the thing had two bulges around its pectoral area, and with a start I realized it had what appeared to be breasts. I saved the snippet of video, then rewound it a bit further.

It did something with the fur between its legs for a few seconds, seeming to rub or scratch at it with one paw. After that I came running backwards into view like a bat out of hell, swiftly freezing as I got close to the wolf thing. I watched it sniff at my neck for a while, then unzip and paw through my backpack in reverse. It then flew back into the air, landing on top of the cave. Once it got to there, I hit play and watched the events unfold. This creature was roughly a foot taller than me, standing on canine-style legs and using human-like arms. It had some pretty decent claws, as I'd guessed before, and it was obvious that this thing could have easily caught and killed me at any point in my encounter with it. So why didn't it?

After I saved the video clip, I put my laptop aside and lay down on my sleeping bag while pondering that question. Maybe it was just curious about me? No, that would explain it sniffing around the campsite, but not this. It had deliberately gotten up close and personal, sniffing and... licking. And then after I'd left it did something with its paw. I rolled over and grabbed my laptop again, flipping it open and going back to the video clip. I fast forwarded through my panicked escape to where I saw it doing the paw thing. At first glance I thought it might just be scratching an itch, but if it was it would just use its claws. From what I could tell it was deliberately using the pad of its paw, and instead of scratching up and down it seemed to be rubbing in circles. Was it... masturbating? No, no, it couldn't be, why would it do that right after sniffing me? There had to me another explanation, I just needed time to figure it out.

Crunch crunch crunch crunch. Leaves crumpled under heavy footsteps, almost making me jump out of my skin. In a frightened frenzy I pulled up the live feed for one of the clearing cameras, and saw that the beast was once again right outside my tent. I could hear it snuffling and sniffing outside, picking up my scent before circling around again. I closed my laptop as quietly as possible, sliding it towards the camera in the corner as the thing moved toward the tent flap. It seemed far more confident than before, like it was looking for something specific instead of exploring. That specific something was probably me, I thought, and what it intended to do with me was not something I wanted to think about.

I could see its silhouette as it reached up, and to my surprise grabbed the zipper for the tent flap. All I could do was look on in horror as it slid the zipper down, moving it in a slow U as it unsealed the tent. Images of being torn apart by this beast flashed through the primal part of my mind, tying down my limbs with chains of fear. The first part of it through was its wolf-like leg, terminating in a four-digited paw. The leg was covered in a blend of white and grey fur, with white running up the inner thigh and grey covering the haunches. Next came a single, massive, five fingered hand, tipped with long claws that could have ripped me in half. Finally it poked its head in, stooped low due to the cramped confines of the tent. Its tooth-filled maw was opened, but not in a snarl; in fact, it seemed to almost pant like a dog, licking its lips as its amber eyes locked with mine. The ears were perked up in a friendly demeanor, and it seemed all too jovial for a monster of the woods.

The rest of its bulk moved into the tent, and as it stood stooping I finally got a good look at it. Its fur was indeed like a timberwolf's, with grey and black fur on its back and flanks and lighter fur on its underbelly. The fur wasn't shaggy like I thought it would be, and instead seemed... fluffy. Thick muscles rippled under its skin as it shifted its weight, making me wonder why it didn't just rip its way inside the tent. My gaze shamefully drifted down to its chest, and as I lay there gaping I realized it did have breasts, eight of them to be precise. Only the top two were swollen to human proportions, but all of them were punctuated in little pink nipples that peeked out from the fur. After a few seconds I tore my gaze away from its—or should I say her—chest, by my eyes settled on something else shameful. I looked down between her legs to see what she was rubbing at, and found a set of vulva open to the air. It looked more like a dog's than a human's, with a teardrop shape and an inverse T entrance. It seemed really puffed up and swollen, and as the creature crawled on top of me I had the stray thought that it might be in heat.