Three Chilling Bigfoot Encounters Shared During Crypted Week

There's a video floating around YouTube right now that's been giving me chills, and I had to share it with anyone who appreciates a good, hair-raising encounter story. The folks over at Pale Night put together a compilation of seven disturbing Bigfoot and Sasquatch encounters, and honestly, a few of these accounts hit harder than most. The storytelling style leans into horror, but the witnesses themselves come across as genuine people recounting memories that clearly stuck with them for decades. The first story that grabbed me is told from the perspective of someone whose grandmother finally opened up about something that happened to her as a child in May of 1964. Picture this: a tiny house sitting alone in the middle of a wide open field, miles from any neighbors, with thick clusters of trees forming a dark barrier behind the property. A single dirt road is the only connection to the outside world. The grandmother was about eight years old, sharing a small bedroom with her sisters, when she woke up in the middle of the night with the overwhelming sensation that something was watching her. The bedroom window sat about six feet off the ground, so whatever was out there had to be tall enough to peer in deliberately. Two glowing, reflective eyes stared directly at her through the glass. She woke her sister, and both girls lay frozen under their blankets while those eyes lingered. When morning came, the family stepped outside and found enormous footprints pressed deep into the soil, leading from the tree line up to the house and back. The prints were far larger than any boot her father owned, spaced in long strides, and sank deep enough to suggest serious weight. A few months later, a neighbor seven miles away reported several cows had simply vanished, no blood, no broken fencing, no signs of struggle. Whatever was out there had the strength to lift livestock and carry them off without leaving a trace. This kind of account lines up with a lot of what researchers have documented over the years. The reflective eyes, the height, the heavy striding gait, and the livestock predation all fit a pattern that goes back centuries in North American folklore. Indigenous tribes across the Pacific Northwest and beyond have oral traditions describing tall, hairy beings that would snatch livestock and watch from the edges of settlements. The 1964 timeframe also puts this story in an era when rural America was still deeply connected to the land, and people had a much more intimate knowledge of what wildlife was and wasn't native to their area. A black bear wouldn't leave those kinds of footprints, and the reflective eye shine described here matches the shine commonly reported in Sasquatch encounters, often described as amber, red, or green depending on the light source. The second story comes from Wayne County, a small town of maybe 500 people surrounded by farmland and forest. The narrator's parents live right in town, but their backyard backs up to a walking trail in the woods, and it's pitch black back there at night because no streetlights reach that far. On a moonless, overcast night, the family was talking in the living room when their yellow Lab, Marley, suddenly stood up, hackles raised, and started growling low. This dog was half deaf and blind from diabetes, generally chill, rarely barked at anything. But he went absolutely berserk, barking toward the back of the house. When they opened the back door, Marley bolted outside snarling, making sounds the family had never heard from him before. They stepped onto the porch and waited for their eyes to adjust. About fifty feet away, near the railroad track access road, stood a silhouette. Way over six feet tall, probably closer to eight, and extremely broad. The parents insist it was a black bear, but the Department of Environmental Conservation officially states black bears don't live anywhere near that area, and the size described would have been record-breaking. What really got me was the breathing. Even at fifty feet, the family could hear deep, raspy breaths that sounded like they were right next to their ears. Slow and steady, not labored. The figure stood upright for about two minutes before simply vanishing when the narrator went to grab a flashlight. No tracks, no fur, nothing. That breathing detail is something that comes up surprisingly often in Sasquatch reports. Witnesses describe a deep, resonant quality to the breathing that seems disproportionate to the distance, almost as if the creature is projecting sound or simply has an enormous lung capacity. The upright stance, the massive build, and the complete lack of tracks on dry ground all point away from any known animal in that region. And the dog's reaction is consistent with what handlers report when their animals sense something truly outside the normal spectrum of wildlife. Dogs know the difference between a bear, a coyote, and something they've never encountered before. The third story is from March 2018, when someone moved from New York to Vermont and rented a house up a small mountain dirt road while waiting to close on a new home. Heavy snow that winter, barely any traffic, alpacas at a nearby farm about an eighth of a mile away. The house had motion detector lights, a huge ancient apple tree out back, and several acres of lawn surrounded by forests and old rock walls. The narrator grew up around forests and felt fine at first, but something changed on the second night. The discussion cuts off there, so the full story is worth hearing directly from the source. Honestly, these kinds of firsthand accounts are gold for anyone trying to understand the phenomenon. The witnesses aren't trying to sell anything, they're just sharing experiences that clearly affected them deeply. If you want to hear all seven stories told in full, definitely check out the video. The atmosphere Pale Night creates with the narration and pacing makes it feel like you're sitting around a campfire listening to someone finally admit what they saw that night. It's the kind of content that reminds you why so many people keep looking into the woods and listening.