You see it through the trees. A figure that almost looks like a person. Perhaps someone lost like you out here in the middle of nowhere.

But it only takes a moment for your mind to grasp the irregularities.

Inverted legs. A natural height. Claws made to rind flesh. Even if it looks like a person.

The differences bring out a horror from within you like you've never felt before.

Welcome back to The Darkness prevails podcast. Today I've got some very unsettling and allegedly true stories about creepy creatures found in the middle of nowhere, disturbing encounters at the Grand Canyon, and more.

Enjoy and be sure to send us your scary stories for narration at darkstories.org.

I'm looking for stories about the deep woods, small towns, and Yosemite National Park.

To support the show, follow us on Spotify, iTunes, or your favorite podcasting app, and leave us an honest review on iTunes.

And if you want more scary entertainment, check out my other show hosted by Carmen Carian, called Freaky Folklore, where she dives into the history, lore, and terror surrounding your favorite monsters and myths.

The next episode should be about Skinwalkers, and the most recent episode covers the eerie legend of the Black Eyed Children.

Now get ready for a long, dark night.

It came from the attic, from George. When I was 12, my parents moved us into an old brick house, a 20 minute drive from the nearby town.

There were a couple of neighbors up and down the road from us, but we never really got to know them. It was mostly just cedar trees in every direction.

I would later learn from my mom that this home was pretty old, and had not been lived in for a couple of decades.

My parents were happy to have purchased the home at such a competitive price, though it doesn't sound like they even had any other buyers to compete with at the time.

I also recently learned that the old house has long since been demolished.

Now, being 12, you'd think moving to a new home would be a bit tougher on me, but I welcomed it.

We were still within the region, so I wouldn't have to change schools. I would just have to take a bus from there on out.

And my parents seemed so much happier. My dad found himself to be a passionate gardener, and my mother absolutely enjoyed raising a small pin of chickens there.

As for the house itself, the place was amazingly well put together. Despite its obvious age, the wiring worked perfectly, as did the plumbing.

The gas lines never gave us trouble either. Sure, we had the creaking floorboards and all that, but nothing really fell apart.

Whoever had built the home had put their care and patience into building it, made it that much easier for my family to fall in love with the place.

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