#0200617

Okay, so.  First of all, let me apologize again for being so rude before.  It’s just.  Coming across your blog after years of very firmly deciding to believe the much more reasonable idea that it’s coyotes in the woods and not some kind of murderbeast?  It’s a shock.

Um.  I don’t really know where to start.  At the beginning, I guess.  But I’m not sure where it begins, really.

I first heard the sounds when I was about six.  That’s the first I remember anyway.  I was out looking at the stars with my dad, in the field between our house and the neighbor’s pond.  We live in a semi-rural place.  There’s a lot of land per house.  I grew up on about two acres, I think?  Dunno how folks live on those postage-stamp lawns where you can reach out your kitchen window and touch your neighbor’s house.  But that doesn’t matter right now.

We were out looking at the sky, something we did a lot back then.  It was beautiful.  I think there was supposed to be a meteor shower or something?  I don’t really remember.  But then I heard it.  Yipping, wild laughter, almost like distorted giggling, drifting through the trees past the pond.  Dad scooped me up and hurried back to the house.  He told me it was just the coyotes.

It wasn’t the last time I’d hear it.  Over the years, I grew more and more determined to ignore it, as parents and older siblings reassured me it was coyotes.  Didn’t sound like the ones I’d hear elsewhere, though.  Regardless, I never went near the woods when I’d go outside to play, never even cross the creek that ran through the backyard.  Mom swears she never told me it wasn’t allowed, but I’d gotten it into my head that it was dangerous.

I was… About twelve when I first saw it, I think?  Nothing concrete, really.  It was standing in the backyard, backlit by the light by the garage.  A silhouette of something humanoid and tall, with high, pointy ears like a wolf or a cat.  All I really remember is the figure dropping into a crouch as soon as it saw me, those ears sweeping backward.  I dove away from the window and went straight to bed, hiding under the blankets and clutching my teddy bear like a toddler again.

I really hope it was just my imagination.  The stress of middle school combining with a childhood fear.  The fact that there are children I remember starting school with who didn’t finish with me, and I don’t remember them moving away, that’s unrelated, right?  Has to be.  Has to be.  I just forgot about it.  I was a withdrawn kid, y’know?  Never made many friends.  And I’ve got memory problems besides.  They’re living somewhere else, just fine, going through college and building careers.  They’re fine.  They have to be.

I still hear them once in awhile, the hunters.  On winter nights, when the cold air carries the sound better.  They don’t come as close to the house anymore.  I still draw the curtains tight on those nights.

FOLLOW-UP NOTES

- A lack of detail on the location in the statement makes it difficult to pin down just what the creatures described here may be, but I spoke with Hazel and she believes it may be an aspect of the creature described in the monster file #09000, or the monster file #12000. The hunting department, unfortunately, cannot help us any further unless we get more details on the location, and we do not have access to these files.

- There are plenty of creatures that deal in hunting and mimicking the sounds of other creatures, but from what I can infer, the creature did not actually mimic coyotes, that was merely what they were explained as.