I wanted to get this story out to people because I feel like my time is running out. I know people have heard of the skin walker and only think of it as a campfire story. I am here to tell you that those allegations are false, and I want which ever person that comes across this note to know the truth and to leave this area at once; your life is in danger.
My name is Robert Newman. I work as a detective in northern Georgia. It all started a month ago while I was sitting at my desk in my small office. The paint was peeling off the walls and the carpet had ink and dark spots on it surrounding my old creaky desk. I was just filling out my last case as I pecked away at my typewriter and finished the last drag of my rolled cigarette when the phone rang.
“Hello, Newman’s Private Eye Agency.”
The man on the other end had a worn and raspy voice, “Hey Newman it’s the chief of police. I have a case for you in the old forest.” I agreed to meet him within the hour, even though, it was a quarter to midnight. I hang up grabbed my coat and car keys and headed out the door.
As I walked I wondered, “What does the forest have in store for me this time?”
I puffed away at a cigarette as I drove down the narrow dark road surrounded by forest. The moon peaked out from behind the clouds in short intervals. I was hoping it didn’t rain tonight. It would make the investigation tougher and I forgot my raincoat. Out of the darkness I could see bright lights positioned in a circle and shadows of people moving about.
As I was pulling in I got a taste of what I was dealing with. The lanterns lit a scene of dirt road painted in scarlet and upon the tapestry lay two teens, one male and one female. They weren’t exactly intact the male was missing his right leg and his throat was torn out and the girl only had a head and a torso. These cuts that the victims suffered were not done with any tool I have ever seen. These scars that appeared on the body resembled claw and bite marks of a massive animal.
“Dear god,” I said as I walked up to meet the chief. I reached out to shake the wrinkled hand of Darren Johnson the best chief I have ever worked with.
“You think this is weird, it only gets worse. Follow me.”
As we walked the wind picked up and as it blew the trees the sound, reminded me of a drowned out whistle.
“Look at these tracks,” said the chief. As I examined and followed the tracks for a short distance, which was short because I didn’t want to run into whatever did it just yet. I noticed that the tracks sort of shifted from something that was a four-legged feline of massive proportions to a bipedal “Thing” with 4 toes and clawed feet. I also noticed that some of the tracks had tuffs of fur in them of a dark brunette and black color and don’t get me started on the smell. To be blunt it was foul enough to make my eyes water like old garbage with a hint of onions.
“What do you make of this,” said the chief.
I thought carefully before I answered and said, “I have no idea but obviously it’s something abnormal and seems to be able to change its shape, or it could be an elaborate hoax done by the murderer.
”Change shape?” The chief broke out into a loud laugh and as he was laughing a scream that was so blood cudderling and so painful to hear resonated from the main crime scene. Someone was being, killed there was no doubt about it. The chief and I exchanged serious looks and bolted for the crime scene with guns in hand. As we rounded the heavily bushed corner we came upon a scene that had to come out of some horror movie. Limbs, blood, and torn clothes were everywhere surrounding a creature of about 8 feet tall covered in fur of the same color as the fur I found in the tracks earlier. The light revealed that its fur was soaked in fresh and dried blood and the face resembled something like a wolf.
The chief and I had our pistols trained on this thing but were unable to shoot because in one out stretched hand it held the last living police officer by his head. At this point all the insect sounds and night birds of the forest was completely silent. The only thing you could hear was the loud breathing of the beast and the b*****s on my jacket clinging together as I shivered with fear.
The chief was braver than I. He slowly approached the beast. He was only able to take 2 steps when the beast raised its other clawed hand and grabbed the bottom half of the officer.
“Put him down!” the chief screamed. The officer screamed but only for a second because the beast literally tore him in half. Blood rained out from his body and out of the mist the creature changed shape into an owl and flew towards the chief.
The chief fired at the beast as it flew but it was such a small target none of the bullets hit its mark. In midair the owl shifted into the form of some giant feline about 2 feet from the chief with its legs and feet out stretched. It smothered the chief with flashes of claws, teeth and too much blood. The chief didn’t last for 2 seconds. I had broken into a run and out of fear dropped my pistol. I ran for 5 minutes and came upon this abandoned building which looked like a church.
I smashed into the door and opened it half way. I took a glance back and saw the beast which was what I guessed to be back in its original form walking with a sense of urgency. It wanted to kill me and have fun doing it. I smashed the door all the way open and shut the door as fast as I could. There was a desk nearby that I slid in front of the door. On the desk I found a piece of old worn paper. I knew I didn’t have a chance of escape as soon as I heard the loudest howl of my life which seemed like it shook the entire building. I pulled out my pen and began to write a warning.
Skin Walkers exist.
