Inspired by true events that shocked the paranormal community around the world. The story revolves around the legend of the skin walkers or "S Dubs", a folk legend from Utah about the spirits of murdered Indians returning to seek revenge upon those who disrespect the land. Hunt For The Skinwalker is a documentary about the most intensive scientific study of a UFO and paranormal hotspot in human history. There Are Monsters is a feature length horror based upon the apocalyptic premise that the world is being taken over -slowly, quietly and efficiently- by creatures that look exactly like us In a series of unusual events occurred in the Uinta Basin.
A team of specialist was sent to investigate the occurrences. Their footage is all that remains of the investigation. Start your free trial.
Find showtimes, watch trailers, browse photos, track your Watchlist and rate your favorite movies and TV shows on your phone or tablet! A beautiful native American women in soft white deer skin was watching me smiling. She teased me asking if I enjoyed myself. Then I suddenly slammed back to my normal body and my eyes flew open. I felt so lost and sad. I was crying but I was both happy and sad. She had a bunch of deer, one hare, and a horse. They shape shifted back to human form. She said their eyes are different.
Yet they greeted her happily like a family to join them. Trying to find any symbolism to aid her. Driving up by the mesas. Literally 50 miles from the nearest anything. Me and two friends saw what appeared to be a young lady running and jumping over tumbleweeds in the distance. When we got closer it was as if she had timed our driving with her road crossing. As we drove past her all 3 of us saw her as a old lady.
Imagine the oldest person you can think of then add years. I stopped the car to offer water. I thought anyone out in that vast expanse of desert would like something to drink. She or it had no backpack or gear of any sort. Within the time it took me to apply the breaks and get out of the car. She or it was literally a mile away. To this day I have no clue what it was. But I remember the vibrant red and green of her shirt and skirt. I remember her leaping and jumping, I remember her looking ancient. Then she was gone. I grew up in Page AZ. I saw them around a fire. They where staring forever into the flames..
Coyote furs on their heads and bodies. My Navajo friend and I where laying prone on a hill, a hundred feet or so above them. He motioned for me to slowly follow him away. I took a last moment and looked at each one. Then as I turned away, I knocked a rock loose and tumbled down. Yup, just like all those cheesy scary movies. All five of the naked men where staring right at me. As if they knew I was there the whole time. And that I did. I ran so hard through the desert. I thought I was going to pass out. Then I heard it.
A laughing crackle, mixed with a howl of a dying coyote. Then I felt something touch my back and I started to fade into blackness. I could not understand him.. Then I followed his pointing hand. That was are only hope. My lungs felt like I was breathing fire, my veins pounded like sledge hammers with every heart beat. We crashed through the weaved blanket door.. We laid on the floor, I was still in shock. Not even a sound. We both looked over, and his Grandma was sitting up in her bed.
She was just shaking her head… like she was saying to us.. Now an old Navajo woman follows me. All over the globe. If I am in one place for 6 months. And she is always accompanied by a large brown raven. Always squawking at me from a nearby tree, or a building ledge. Then they will show up a week or so later..
They will show themselves just enough. They will haunt my friends. They prey on me when I am weak or tired. LoL Even in a war zone, where I used to work. Now they are here again, in Denver. The crow landed at my feet the other day. One eye staring at my soul. First time for that… Pondering what is next. Maybe its time for a road trip back to the rez.. I live in Texas in a very rural area. I am not known to have Indian genetics but fin I am extremely close to thinking as most native americans do in a deep spiritual sense.
I have had two different occasions of encountering shapeshifters and do believe they mean harm. Both encounters were While I was driving and was on the drivers side of my vehicle that I saw these creatures.
Skinwalkers | Rocky Mountain Legends
Glowing eyes; abiloty to run alongside my truck going 70 for quite some distance…. I am from Page too… I had written my comment a few months,ago about my uncounted with a skinwalker. Page and the red surrounding it is a hotspot. Ive seen a Skin Walker.. He jumped from the berm on the side of the dirt road and over the front of the car.. We just sat there in the car, both of us yelling, freaking out.. That it was a skinwalker. I will never forget it..
I highly doubt it. The skinwalker discussed in this article hails from the ancient Navajo traditions, and thus only symbols from these traditions would have any significance to it. I was there with my Grandparents. My dad really wanted to go seek this out, but wanted other people present as witnesses. What I do remember distinctly is that we took a ride later at nightfall, it seemed like we drove a good distance.
I sat next to my grandmother in the back seat. My Papa sat up front.
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This was before seat belt laws were enforced. Eventually, my dad said- Look Dad, there! He slowed to a complete stop almost. Some kind of animal. Just standing there in the middle of the road. They were trying to get me to get down in the floor board. But, I kept raising up to see it. His body was hairy, from top to bottom. Pants, he wore tattered pants. It seemed like a good thirty minutes or more.
It still bugs me. Have any of you had a similar experience? It was suggested to me that what my experience may have been was an encounter with a SkinWalker. After reading the very last section of this article? I have to wonder. I wish I had a definitive answer to what it was that we encountered on that Texas road. You are commenting using your WordPress.
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Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email. Skinwalkers Posted on July 28, by adamjamesjones. Print Email Facebook Twitter. June 9, at 4: June 9, at 3: July 13, at 8: August 15, at 8: I still plan on going back for visits to the family and the Northern Navajo Nation Fair fun stuff!
I just adamantly hope that I never have such an awful experience like that again. I forget why we went out there but it had to be important because my dad never tagged along with us out there. Anyways, come night time and everyone is asleep except me.
Since my grandpa was up there in years he had a long wooden ramp to his door. I was expecting something to come to the door and knock, but nothing happened except that it kept walking up and down the ramp. My grandpa lived about 25 minutes away from the nearest town and the only neighbors around are other family members. Instead I calmly walk to the back bedroom where my mom and dad are asleep.
I lay down on the floor and try to sleep. Meanwhile whatever is walking around outside is still doing its thing. After a couple of minutes I hear my mom attempt to wake up my dad and see if he can hear it. This relieves me because I thought she was asleep the whole time. I tell her I hear it too and we lay there and listen. My dad is not the best at being coherent after sleep and he falls back to sleep right away. It stops after a couple of minutes. I freak out again and this time just go to the back bedroom and lay down and go to sleep.
I also forgot to mention a weird thing my grandpa said that made sense later. This all happened about 5 years ago. We took a ride about 50 miles to this old Spanish ruin called Quarai in New Mexico that was once the seat of the Inquisition. So we jump the front gate to the place and start exploring. One of my friends brought a flute with him and he started playing it and about 30 seconds into his mediocre playing, something started screaming really really loud on the tops of the long-destroyed walls of the place.
We got the fuck out of there one of my friends pissed his pants and drove for a few hours to Bandelier National Monument where we planned to camp out at for the rest of the weekend. We got to Bandelier at probably like 6 or 7am and set up our camp. After a few hours just talking about what the hell happened at the ruins, I went to talked a piss probably only like feet from our camp.
This is where everything starts getting a little fuzzy. I remember seeing two dust devils coming my way and when I turned around again, two of my friends were there and they were motioning me to follow them. I followed them for what seemed like 10 or 15 minutes and then I snapped out of it. Both of these friends were brunette. Monsters in movies are nothing compared to this. I turned around and ran as fast as I could back the way I came from. After like 5 minutes of a full sprint, I got back to that rock that I pissed at and found our camp. I told them what happened with the look-alike Skinwalkers and we packed up everything and left probably within like 10 minutes and got the hell back to Albuquerque.
We made it New Orleans, almost died from culture shock, and turned around and headed to Magnolia, MS to get some sleep. We stayed at Magnolia Inn, it was a shit hole, but it was nice and cool. It was May or June, in south MS; cool was the only adjective that mattered. Probably girls, college, and college girls.
We arrived in Shreveport, made a phone call to another friend, who we were actually supposed to be staying with. Both of our mothers had called looking for us. The only person that knew where we were was the buddy on the phone. It was no big deal; we would be home in a day or two.
Before we left that rest area in Shreveport where we made the call we saw an armadillo. Let me tell you something about armadillos, those bastards will hiss, jump, and turn into Tasmanian Devils if you corner them. They also carry leprosy. We were 18; we chased that armadillo around for an hour. Now let me tell you about Shreveport.
It was a shit hole. We crossed a bridge and saw people fishing a yards from where a drainage pipe from a factory was spewing forth waste upriver from the fisherman. The locals reminded me of the locals in Adamsville, bald headed women and cross eyed men. A lot of bald headed, cross eyed kids. I felt like I was going to be raped because I had a full head of hair and could see straight. The best part of Shreveport was an armadillo that might possibly have leprosy. Marshall, TX was 40 miles away. Marshall was a decent little town. Home of the Fire Ant Festival. We stopped at a little bar-b-q joint and had a coke, a smile, and some pulled pork.
It was getting late, and the sun was setting, we looked at the map and decided to back track a bit and head up rural route 43, through Karnack, and past Caddo Lake. We would eventually run into Hwy 59, head to Texarkana and then head back home. When we left the bar-b-q joint and headed towards 43 it was dusk. My friend was driving and we were doing about 45 mph, any faster would have been reckless even for a couple 18 year old dumbasses. This road was kind of like Christmasville Rd. The locals reading this will know what I mean. The non-locals just have to use your imagination It was dark, winding, full of hills that ended in curves; there were beady and glowing eyes on both sides of the road.
You could hear the crickets and the bullfrogs over the sound of the wind rushing by that old Sentra. It was peaceful and creepy at the same time. The humidity was a real thing, tangible. The air was thick. It smelled like pastures, hay, and swamp. We drove for what seemed like hours, it was after midnight, and I saw a sign that informed me that Bivins was the next town of any size. I rolled the window down and lit a cigarette.
14 Facts About Skinwalkers That Will 100% Scare The Shit Out Of You
There was music coming from the radio, the tape player, it was either Tupac or Bob Seger. I smoked my cigarette, absent mindedly flicking ashes out of the window. I took one last puff and flicked the Camel Short off into the woods. Then I saw it. Maybe I did a little when I flicked the cigarette away. What I do know is that in my periphery there was something running alongside the car.
It was just behind my window, behind where the edge of the door ends and before where the back window begins. I looked over at the speedometer, 40 mph. I looked at my friend, he was looking straight ahead, I looked straight ahead. I could still see it. I could see one huge arm, matted hair, reddish brown, sticky looking, primal.
I eased my right hand over and rolled up my window. My friend was still looking straight ahead, his jaw was clenched, and he put both hands on the wheel, he sped up. No words were said. I looked straight ahead and still out of my periphery I could see that arm moving, muscles and tendons visibly rippling beneath that matted hair. As the car gained a little speed the thing running alongside us lost pace, slightly, I then saw the hand on the end of that nightmarish arm. The hand was clenched into fist the size of a cantaloupe, a big cantaloupe. It was covered in the same hair but slightly darker around the fingers, like it was stained with something.
Suddenly the hand unclenched and then I saw the claws, black as this damned after midnight Texas night. Those claws were at least two inches long, sharp, like an animals.