A Chilling True Story (Book 1)
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Ch. 1 The Unforgettable Howl
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It all started with a howl, and to this day, we regret having heard it. It was the fall of 2012, October 13, to be exact. My husband, Dean, decided it was time to set up our traditional Halloween display. He spent the day decorating the front yard with our Halloween décor, which consisted of a graveyard, a blow-up hearse, ghosts, and many skeletons.
We always added to our display each year, and this year, it was an eight-foot inflatable tree with a ghost attached and glowing new bones for the graveyard. Dean placed the inflatable tree inside the front porch cove, making it appear as if the ghost and ghoulish tree were attacking the house. He finished late in the afternoon, and I went outside to look at it.
Dean did a fantastic job as usual but had to wait until nightfall to complete the outdoor lighting. He had several large spotlights that needed to be adjusted after dark to enhance the special effects.
Later that evening, I was enjoying the warmth of being inside, cuddled on the couch, watching my favorite television show. When Dean entered the room and announced that he was headed back outside to finish, he threw on his camouflage jacket. Fifteen minutes later, he turned inside, leaned over to me, and asked, “Do you want to hear something strange coming from the forest? "Curious, I replied, “What is it? ”It’s something I’ve never heard before,” he said.
“Well, what does it sound like?” I asked, not wanting to go out into the cold.
“It’s hard to explain. Just come outside and hear it,” he replied with the strangest look.
Intrigued, now I had to go outside. I had never known Dean to be without words to describe something - it had to be bizarre. On our way to the front door, I grabbed a heavy coat while Dean retrieved and loaded one of his pistols, which was rather alarming.
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As we walked across our front porch towards our driveway, I immediately heard what Dean could not describe - a bellowing, mournful howl coming from the forest across the street. I, too, had never heard a sound like it before. It was an emotional howl of great despair and tragedy, so loud it engulfed the forest, making pinpointing the animals’ location impossible.
When we reached our driveway, we continued to the end of it and stood by the back of our car, nearest the forest. Two more howls resonated as we stared into the darkness of the trees. When it finally stopped, we were stunned!
“What the hell was that?” I whispered.
He replied, “It’s not a coyote or a dog. I don’t recognize it. What do you think it is?”
I agreed it was neither of those animals, yet it was an animal. None came to mind, but whatever it was, it sounded like it was in great pain and close by. After a few more minutes of listening to silence, I blurted out, “Well, it must be some kind of animal, and it’s howling because it’s trapped or injured.” Logically, I thought, that explained it.
Dean must have seen something when he went outside, so I asked what had happened. He told me he was sitting in the middle of our front lawn, about ten feet from the street, adjusting the main spotlight, when suddenly, he heard the howl coming from the forest behind him. At first, he ignored it and continued working until it bellowed once more.
He said, “I turned around and looked at the forest, but I didn’t see anything. I stopped what I was doing to listen and watch for movement. Then, it happened again. I knew something was not right about the howl; it was so loud, and I couldn’t recognize it. It sounded close, so I stood up and started moving towards the front door, wishing I had my pistol on me. It howled twice as I crossed the front porch to get into the house. I kept my eyes on the forest the whole time, but nothing moved. I went to get you because I couldn’t identify it, and I thought, ‘Christine’s got to hear this.’”
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“Well, what do you think it is?” I asked.
He said, “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”
He unlocked the car door, opened it, and pressed the remote button to open the garage. When the garage door opened, he went inside to get a flashlight. I followed him but went into the house to call our youngest son, Jack, to help us. He was twenty-two years old. I told Jack an injured animal was howling in the forest, and we were going to search for it. Jack, being the animal lover he is, quickly came downstairs and grabbed a flashlight, eager to help in any way he could.
Into the dark, with our flashlights blazing, we all crossed the street and headed toward the forest. Directly across from our mailbox sat an old, unkempt pathway that led into it. It looked like a black hole beneath the trees, with shades of moonlight. I was somewhat hesitant to enter but far too curious not to search.
After hearing the magnitude of the howl, Dean and I stayed together as we cautiously entered the woods only a few feet. While Jack, who was told we were looking for an injured animal, ran deep down the forest path until we could no longer see the light of his flashlight.
An eerie silence befell the forest; we heard only the sounds of our footsteps pressing against the fallen leaves. Many trees, bushes, and vines lined the pathway surrounded by darkness. We shined our flashlights between the trees, searching for any signs of movement, but nothing moved. The smells of dirt, pine trees, and musk filled the air around us, along with whiffs of an unknown odor. Suddenly, I stopped. I sensed something was hiding in the woods and watching us. This was a mistake, flashed through my mind as my thoughts quickly turned to Jack and his disappearance deep into the darkness.
Fearing for Jack’s safety, I yelled for him but could only hear a faint reply somewhere down the path. I expressed to Dean my urgent need to leave the woods and for him to call for Jack to return. Dean did, and Jack returned to my relief.
I convinced them it was too dangerous to continue searching the woods in the dark. We came out of the forest and back onto the street. I had an eerie feeling as I stared into the forest with my arms crossed. Jack noticed I looked anxious, so he asked what was wrong. I explained that something strange was happening in the woods. It should not have been that quiet. Now disturbed that we didn’t quickly find an injured animal, Dean and I stood in the street discussing it. While Jack paced along the forest front, shining his flashlight into the woods, hoping the animal would howl again.
Suddenly, we saw headlights from a car as it turned the corner and headed toward us. Inside were our next-door neighbors, Mike, his wife, Carla, and their eighteen-year-old daughter, Sara, on their way home. They stopped to ask what we were doing standing in the street. We told them we heard a strange howl from the forest but couldn’t identify the animal that made it. We talked for a few minutes to explain, and then they wished us luck and drove home.
After they left, so did Jack; he went back inside the house, while Dean and I stayed outside listening and watching the forest for about an hour or so before giving up.
Giving up the search for the animal was nerve-racking since we had no answers - only a mystery to solve. What kind of animal could make such a disturbing howl so close to our home? It was a haunting question about a howl so deep and emotional it would make a baritone opera singer envious. Something big was bellowing from the forest, and I was determined to identify the howling animal.
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The next day, I began searching the internet for recordings of animals that howled. I listened to many recordings of various animals. After a few hours of listening and not finding anything that matched, I became frustrated and wanted to give up. Jack noticed I looked frustrated in the office, so he offered to help. He sat at my computer to begin searching the internet while I sat on the couch across from him, exhausted from my futile searches. I repeatedly described to him the intense magnitude of the howl and even tried desperately to mimic it.
Jack found many recordings of animals howling; first, he would listen to them using his headphones and then play certain ones on the computer speakers for me to hear. After playing them, he would ask whether they matched. I would say louder, deeper, or no. After many tries, he finally played a recording and said, “Listen to this mournful howl.”
I listened, and to my surprise, it was a match! Except the one Dean and I heard was much louder and clearer. I jumped up from the couch with a huge smile. What a relief to finally have an answer: I wanted to give Jack a big hug and kiss. I yelled, “You found it! What kind of animal is it?”
He looked surprised and calmly said, “A recording of a Bigfoot in Ohio from 1994.”
His words hit me like a ton of bricks! My sudden joy turned to shock and disbelief as I struggled to understand. I couldn’t believe what he said, so I immediately asked if he was kidding. He replied, “I’m not joking; it’s a Bigfoot howl.”
I hurried around the desk to see if the internet recording was legit. Numb, I stood behind Jack, staring at the computer screen as he played the howl repeatedly. Bewildered, I asked, “What made you think of a Bigfoot?”
Jack explained that he was tired of me saying no to every howl, so he played the Bigfoot one as a last resort. It kept popping up on the internet when he typed in animal moans and howls, among other strange things. I knew what he was referring to; I also saw Bigfoot audio recordings listed when I searched, but I ignored them because they seemed outrageous. Jack found additional recordings of Bigfoot sounds and played them, too, but the Ohio 1994 recording was the closest match.
I felt light-headed and had to sit down as my mind raced through the events from the previous night. To confirm the howl, we called Dean into the office so he could hear it. Jack played it for him twice. Dean listened carefully and said, “Yes, that’s it, except the one I heard was louder. Great, you found it! What type of animal is it?”
Jack told him, and Dean stared at us for a moment. I think he thought we were joking. I was speechless. Dean said, “Well, that’s what it sounded like,” as he left the room to finish what he was doing.
I didn’t ask what Dean thought about a Bigfoot being across the street because it seemed impossible. I was thinking, Bigfoot, what the hell? You are kidding me. This revelation was more than I could handle. Jack played the recording again, and I asked him not to play it anymore. I felt like my ears were going to explode. He could tell the sound was disturbing to me, so he left the room and went upstairs, happy that he had finally heard the incredible howl.
After Jack left the office, I sat at the desk staring at the computer screen. Thinking, this is not happening. There is no way this is true; Bigfoot doesn’t live in a neighborhood, literally five minutes from the city’s center and the freeway. We didn’t live in a remote forest or near mountains where they were known to be sighted. Yes, our home sits alone at the end of our neighborhood. There are woods across from us, but a Bigfoot? How ridiculous.
I further questioned; the internet recording says it’s a Bigfoot howling in Ohio, but how does anyone really know? It could be some other kind of animal. Just because they say it is, does that make it true? Not wanting to believe, I tried to dismiss it, but I had no other explanation for the howl. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t explain it away.
As I began to accept the possibility, I thought how ironic it all seemed. My tense fear of the forest was based on Bigfoot. I had spent my whole life trying to avoid running into one. I always believed in their existence and had an intense fear of them. I feared going camping, walking in the woods, or driving down isolated highways surrounded by forest because I was deathly afraid of them lurking in it.
Later, when Dean returned to the office, I asked him what he thought. He said, “Well, I guess there’s a Bigfoot across the street.”
Dean’s words and dismissive demeanor were stunning, and I quickly dissolved into an emotional mess. He said the wrong thing. I wanted his reassurance that there was not a Bigfoot in the woods. He quickly realized that I was terrified by just the thought. He sat quietly as I desperately talked, trying to convince myself it couldn’t be true. He listened for a while and comforted me by agreeing to everything I said. We had been married thirty years, so he knew how to reassure me.
Later that evening, after calming down, it dawned on me that I couldn’t blame Dean for not feeling the way I did. He was retired from the Army, so he had seen and done a lot, and little surprised him anymore. In the military, he held many positions that involved being in the forest after dark. As a child, he went camping every summer, and he had hunted in the past. He obviously was not afraid of the forest or even a Bigfoot being in it. Needless to say, he had no problem sleeping—unlike me.
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