Submitted Stories

(The first story is the one I wrote. It sucks!
Hey, someone had to start things rolling. :p)

The DogMan

It was November 17th, 1988. I remember that day well. It was about 38 degrees in a snow-covered Michigan woods. I was excited because it was three days into deer season and there were plenty of deer tracks in the freshly fallen snow. I was heading out to my deer blind around 5:30 am. My flashlight was shinning on some deer tracks that I was hoping would go past my blind. Sure enough when I made it to my blind the tracks continued on past it. I knew that I was going to have some good luck today. Quietly I climbed into my blind. Once I was settled in I waited until first light to pull out my binoculars. Looking around the area I noticed a tree with some huge scrapes in the bark. I thought how odd this was since they were about 7 foot up off the ground. The scrapes almost looked like claw marks. No they can't be claw marks, I thought to myself. They are to big for a bear to make and I knew of no other animal that could have made such huge claw marks. Just as I was going to get out of my blind to check these strange markings, I heard a noise. Looking over to my left I noticed a deer sneaking through some brush. I pulled up my rifle and peered through my scope. It was a buck with a nice set of antlers. I waited for the deer to come out of the brush. Finally the deer emerged. Through the scope I noticed the deer was acting oddly. He was looking all around as if something was spooking him. The wind direction was in my favor, so I disregarded that he was scenting me. Since I'm the only one that hunts my property I knew that no one else was hunting out here. I put all this stuff out of my head and focused on the deer. I took my shot. The deer took off running into the trees. I waited for about 30 minutes before pursuing the deer. I followed the blood trail and was stopped in my tracks by a shivering howl. Thinking to myself that it was just a wolf, I continued on. As I was coming over a small ridge I saw my deer and something else. The deer was dead, if not by my bullet by the animal that was crouching over it. Darn dog, I thought to myself. I pulled my binoculars up to my face to see if I was dealing with a rabid dog. What I seen was horrorifing. The deer was being ripped apart by extremely large teeth and claws. This animal was not a dog, nor a wolf. The animal looked my way and began to snarl at me. Then to my surprise, it stood up on two legs. This thing had the head of a big dog but yet human like. Its body was dog like but yet human in shape. This thing stood about 7 foot tall. Shaking myself free from my immobile state, I began to back away slowly. The DogMan (this is what I have named the creature) let out a horrible howl and began to come towards me at an alarming pace. I quickly raised my rifle and with out aiming shot off a round. The DogMan turned around and ran back towards the dead deer. With one fluid motion the DogMan took up the dead deer and ran off into the woods. After about an hour of trying to calm myself down, I decide to check to see if I hit the DogMan. Going over to the spot were it was standing when I shot, I noticed no blood. What I did notice was the massive foot prints this thing left. They were twice the size of mine and looked like dog tracks. I have yet to step foot into these woods again... The End?

The Dogman Encounter

I went out for a mountain bike ride out on the VASA trail this past week.
The leaves were just turning beautiful shades of red and orange, and some of
them were already on the ground; creating a quite colorful bed-like spread
ver the ground. Anyways, I was a few minutes into one of my favorite trails
away from the distinguished, marked trails. Every previous visit to this
beautiful, yet challenging singletrack ( a trail in which only one rider can
ride, with no room for anybody else to pass or ride aside that person ) was
problem free every ride, until this one. For some odd reason, This time out,
I left a little later than I usually do. Just as I decided to stop to look at
the view from the hill, I thought I saw something coming up the trail, the
same trail I just came up, I thought I saw a pack of some type of hairy
beasts. I just thought it was a figment of my imagination, so I decided to
stay put. By this time, The sun was coming down from the horizon, I decided I
ought to get movin' before it became too dark out, since I was not equiped
for night-time riding. Just as I started to get going, I failed to see a dip
in the trail, I fell over and I found out that I could not move my left arm
again for the umpeinth time. I then heard the noises of some sort of wolf, or
dog coming up to where I fell over. What I saw next was beyond anything I
ever invisioned a dog-man to look like. The pack of the dog-men ( consisted
of at least 6 of them) were at least 6 feet tall. They had long, slender
hairy legs, sharp claws, and there heads were long with slender eyes. The
most horific thing that made my heart pace was their long, yet powerful jaws.
Drool was dripping from their teeth, and I could not beleive my eyes when I
saw BLOOD coming from their teeth. All of a sudden, I felt the warm, yet
smelly breath of one of the dog-men. I tried to run, but my leg was stuck in
the bike frame. I started to yell but that only made the beasts come to me.
My struglging was no use (remember I pulled a vital muscle in my left arm,
making it so it won't move). Two of the dog-men grabbed me and drug me
off.........................

THE END- written by ADAM SMITH

Thanks Adam

Night of the Dogman

It was a foggy July evening the night that two of my friends and I decided to go for a walk into town. The night promised an exciting itinerary of video games and lame jokes for our entertainment. We always got a kick out of hanging out, just the three of us. Being the unique individuals we are, having other people around tends to dull our wit and character. With only a flashlight and the low embers of our cigarettes to light the way, the journey was slow to say the very least.

“Hey Colin, it’s at times like these when I think back to three months ago when you wrecked my car. It seemed to be a lot easier to get around then although, I can’t seem to figure out why exactly.” I addressed my best friend in a sarcastic tone. He always hated it when I brought up the fact that he destroyed our only means of transportation.

“Well, that’s just great Pat. Thanks for sharing,” Colin responded, trying desperately to show that I was not getting a rise out of him. My friend Nate on the other hand was trying to hold back his laughter. He always got a kick out of me going out of my way to give Colin a hard time.

We were walking to the local Prevo’s Food market from Colin’s house in Frankfort. By car, it would have taken us two minutes at the most. However, in our current state we are forced to walk up the winding pavement of Airport Road. We decided it might be quicker if we used the small airport runway as a shortcut, which typically enough coined the name for the adjacent road and caused its long and winding nature. It was getting close to the witching hour, and the summer night was uncomfortably silent and still. Perhaps the fog had given the local wildlife a suitable excuse to take the night off and catch up on some sleep. As we walked down the runway, the ghostly images of “bi-planes” and “v-tails” exposed themselves from beyond the fog. The proud air going vehicles seemed desolate, having to sit cold on the ground.

The fog was putting me into an odd adventurous mood. Normally this walk would seem boring and trivial to me. But the change in atmosphere added a spin of mystery on the otherwise dull surroundings. At one point, it was almost as if something was watching us. I shrugged the inclination off and continued walking as Nate cracked a funny joke at Colin’s expense. Eventually we made it to Prevo’s in the record time of 30 minutes. A record time if you consider there were three smokers walking through foggy overcast.

As we picked through the treasure trove of snack food and candy, trying to find our favorite varieties, I had considered who was going to carry all the stuff that was filling up our cart on the walk back. Instead I chose to shrug it off, we were going to need the sugar-induced insomnia if we were going to stay up all night and play video games. As we checked out at the register, my associates became aware of the problem too. The bags of chips, snacks, candy and cigarettes were easy enough to carry. The real question was who was going to carry the two twelve packs of soda for thirty minutes. Eventually after much bantering and debate, Colin decided to carry them just so he wouldn’t have to hear Nate and I complain about them anymore. With that, we left the well-lit oasis of Prevo’s for the foggy moonlight night of Frankfort.
   
When we were getting close to Airport Road again, my watch went off.“Heh, well it’s midnight.” I relayed to my companions. “You know what that mean’s don’t you?” Nate responded with a grin.Colin and I were at a loss. Yeah, we were out in Frankfort at Midnight in the fog. It was slightly creepy but not enough to set of any alarms in my head.
“Does you’re watch have the date on it?” Nate asked.I nodded and pressed the button on my watch to see the date. I could not quite read it so I tapped the "Indiglo" light and checked the date again. What I saw caused me to freeze in my tracks.“No way.” I said.“Yes way!” Nate responded.“What?” Colin asked, getting frustrated with the seemingly pointless conversation.

The weight of the twelve packs were digging in on him by now and I could tell he was upset we had stopped moving. However, that was not occupying my mind. “It’s the 7th.” I told Colin.“So what? Let’s go!” He said as he started walking away from Nate and I. “July 7th, 1997!” I called after him, “The 7th day of the 7th month of the 7th year!”

Colin froze in his tracks and walked back to us. He set the pop down on the ground. He asked to see my watch so I showed him. It was all true, at the stroke of midnight; we were out in the fog on the 7th day, of the 7th month, of the 7th year. Right smack dab in Benzie County, in the territory of the Dogman.

Those unfamiliar with the Dogman tale have probably never lived in Northern Michigan. It is quite an infamous urban legend. Apparently, on the July 7th, in the 7th year of each decade, the Dogman, a sort of werewolf like creature stalks around different areas of Northern Michigan. Benzie County having been one of the counties most visited upon, I was finding it curious that we would be standing out in the middle of its fog-ridden forests at this point. The folk song written about the Dogman began to circulate around in my head. They usually play it every Halloween around these parts on the radio. I could never remember the name of the band that made it, and finding a copy of the song is almost impossible. Suddenly for no apparent reason, the hairs on the back of my neck began to stand on end, fear working its way up from its hiding place in my mind and creeping up my spine.

“Wow, this is cool!” Nate suddenly erupted. The loudness at which he declared his excitement nearly scared me out of my skin. Colin and I had always bought into superstition; Nate on the other hand was more of a realist. He saw this more as a mere coincidence, while Colin and I were cursing the fact to be in the predicament.

“Well, in any case. Lets get back.” Colin said. We all agreed, and followed airport road down to its first turn, before it wound its way around the airport. We crossed the field leading up the to the runway and started retracing our steps back to Colin’s house. It was not until we were about half way up the runway when we heard the howl echo through the fog.“What was that?” I said, in a low uneasy tone.

“Probably a coyote or something. C’mon.” Colin responded. He seemed sure of himself, but I knew he was thinking the same thing I was, we were in trouble. As we started walking again, the flashlight I was carrying to light our way through the fog started acting up. I set my grocery bag down and smacked the side of the flashlight a few times. It flickered back on for a couple of seconds, before dieing down to an amber-like glow. That only lasted for a few seconds more of course, before the batteries in the light gave out completely.

“Well, that’s just dandy.” I said. I picked up my bag and noticed Colin looking around a few feet ahead of me.“Hey Pat…where’s Nate?” He called back to me.“He’s probably hiding in the fog. I’m sure we’re going to hear lame noises in a few seconds when he tries to scare us.” I answered, putting the useless flashlight into my bag. Colin and I stood in silence for a about a minute.

“ALRIGHT NATE! WE KNOW YOU’RE OUT THERE!” Colin screamed into the fog. A response did come, but not exactly the kind either one of us was ready to deal with. Something whizzed through the fog and landed at our feet. Colin spun around and stared at the ground trying to figure out what it was. Being curious myself, I knelt down and fished my Zippo lighter out of my pocket. Then I opened the lid and struck the flint.

A very real looking, bloody, severed hand stared back at us. “What the hell?” Colin exclaimed in horror. I noticed the ring on the gory hand. The ring I could have recognized anywhere. It was Nates.“Let’s get the hell out of here!” I said, grabbing Colin and pulling him with me as I began to take off. Colin dropped the pop and I left my bag with the severed hand, neither one of us caring about snacks at this point. As we took off down the runway, I could hear his feet hitting the tarmac with my own. His feet were beating out a rhythm in sync with the beating of my heart, which was so loud it filled my ears. Then I heard the noise of something large burst through the air, and Colin’s feet were not making noise anymore. I halted in my tracks.

“COLIN?” I cried out into the fog. There was no answer. I knew I had to go for help, there was something in the fog and it had just dispatched my two friends as if they were nothing. The legend had to be true; it had to be the Dogman. I knew if I could make it to Colin’s house, just two minutes away I might still be able to save them or even save myself.

However, as I turned to run, I quickly realized it was too late. Even though I could barely make out the massive hairy shadow blocking my path, I knew it was over. A large howl pierced the silent night air from in front of me. It was so loud it hurt my ears and I winced in pain. The only thing I could hear from that point on, was my ears ringing as something big slammed into me. With my hands covering my ears, I could do nothing to defend myself. I felt a sharp pain as the beast bit down on my left shoulder. The pain assaulted my mind; I had never felt something so intense or severe. Then, with the shock taking hold, everything went black.