Hello everyone, I hope that you're all doing well. This week, we have two stories that I know you'll enjoy. They embody the spirits of Halloween and they'll get you right into spooky season. So let's begin, as we drift further into Mr. Creep's mind.

I'm a park ranger in the Great Smokies.

I think this thing came from hell, written by Horror Writer 1717.

I've lived in East Tennessee for most of my life. Growing up, I would hear old wives tales and urban legends about strange creatures that roam the forest.

For the longest time I thought what every other kid thought,

that they were stories told to scare kids away from

dangerous places so they wouldn't fall into a ravine or get lost in the mass of wilderness.

I never thought any of it was more than made up stories. That's not to say that I didn't spend

my share of time with covers pulled tightly over my head,

when the wind blew the branches against my window that happened to face the woods.

As I grew older, I found myself gravitating towards these stories of strange creatures in the woods.

That curiosity is what started me to investigate such things in my spare time.

People around here seem to be obsessed with Bigfoot, as if he's some local celebrity.

They tend to ignore or don't play other cryptids.

I don't know why.

With the hundreds of thousands of acres of

unexplored and barely explored forest, it seems there's a lot of space for anything that

feels like making its home there could be left in relative peace. For me, I'm more of a fan of

dogman, unofficially of course.

You see, once I graduated high school, my only goal was to become a park ranger.

Where else could you go to work and be surrounded by such glorious nature, even at its most dangerous.

There are literally dozens of stories that I could tell, but the one that sticks with me

...