(This is a cryptid story that was originally told to me from my boss, it is a nonfiction work for all accounts, and I have changed names to preserve privacy.)
A few years ago, I was a bartender and bouncer at a bar in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. I’m a fairly intimidating guy, so it was a job that suited me.
My shift ended around two in the morning. I went to my car and set a timer on my phone. I used to drive like a bat out of hell down the back and set a timer to clock how fast I can get home.
Leaving the town streets, and hitting the country roads, I sped up to around a buck thirty and went over a familiar hill. As the car crested the hill, there was a shimmer. The timer on my cell phone stopped at ten minutes and five seconds. I thought there was a mechanical error, and it stopped working, but when I looked around, the time had ceased, and it froze everything.
Out of the corner of my eye stood a giant being. At first glance, I mistook it for a bear, but its movement was stilted and humanoid. Fine, dark, hair covered its body, and its face was lupine. Long fingers flexed with even longer claws pointing in my direction. I couldn’t see legs or feet, and it appeared to be floating. Eyes so black, it absorbed light as it stared deliberately at me. Lips pulled back over, pointed fangs as it grinned knowingly at me.
The timer on my phone clicked over to ten minutes and six seconds, and everything moved in actual time again. The creature blurred at breakneck speed, vanishing into the shimmer.
My car nearly broke the sound barrier I sped home so fast. My hands were trembling, and my heart pounded against my ribs. What happened could not have been real. I must have seen a bear or a large dog. My phone read 2:20. Only twenty minutes had passed, but it felt like days. I curled into the fetal position and fell into a deep sleep.
My dad knocked on my door in the morning. We made plans to go hunting later that day. He entered the room to see me still in a ball on my bed.
“Son, are you all right?” he asked.
“I’m just tired, give me a few hours.”
My father nodded but came back that afternoon.
“Son, you’re not ok. I want you to tell me what’s wrong.”
“You’ll never believe me; you’ll think I’m crazy.”
“Try me,” he said.
I told him everything about the monster in on the road and the stops in time. As I told him what happened, all the blood drained out of his face. He was white as a ghost, and his palms were shaking when I finished my story.
“Son, I saw the same thing a few years ago. I’ll give you the rest of the day to feel better, and we’ll go hunting tomorrow.”
Pulling myself together, I went through the day in a numb state.
I passed out. I woke up in the middle of the night. My room was pitch black and freezing. An enormous weight rested on my chest, pinning me down. Root, like tendrils, climbed up my legs, trapping me. I tried to scream, but no sound came.
“I know you saw me,” whispered a voice behind me. Icy breath chilled my earlobes. “I saw you too.”
I screamed, and the weight lifted off my chest. My room was empty as if nothing happened.
I had brought up the creature to a pastor, thinking it was a demon. He thought I was crazy and nearly laughed me out of the church. I mentioned it to a youth pastor who explained that it might have been night terrors.
My father and my cousin stated that they had seen the monster in the past. My dad doesn’t like to talk about it and turns as white as a ghost whenever mentioned.
I’ve even checked SCP files, and I only found the goat-man to be a close comparison. I have spent the last few years convincing myself that what I’ve experienced is not real. So, demon, goat man, guardian of the forest, whatever you are: Let’s not meet.