72: Backwoods Horror: Creepy Encounters, Cryptids, and more // Dark Summer Series
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Grammarly, easier said, done. It's nighttime in Honolulu, and you're sitting on the beach under a waning crescent moon. In front of you, waves crash on the shore, and behind you sits a campsite that you and your friends just put the finishing touches on, nestled in some trees. It's so peaceful. You and your friends sit in the sand, sipping beverages around a campfire, sharing memories, when all of a sudden, you hear something in the distance.

It catches you off guard, and your friends laugh when you flinch. You look around to see who made the sound at the campsite, but you notice that there's no one camped here besides you three, and what little you can see in the dim light of the crescent moon just underscores how alone you are. In between the trees behind you is just empty blackness, and then you hear it again.

This time, closer. One of your friends tells the rest to stop messing around. But how could it be any of you? It sounds like it's coming from the other end of the beach. But when you look down there, it doesn't seem like anyone is on the beach with you. Then, it's silent. The horn doesn't sound again after that. You start to think maybe it was all in your mind. Or maybe it was a ship in the distance, invisible in the thick cover of night.

The three of you laugh it off. What's that? The sound of pulsing drums start in the distance, first quiet and then growing louder. The horn blasts again, and now you can hear people chanting. This time, when you look, you notice little lights at the other end of the beach, about a dozen of them, bobbing up and down in a line as if they're being held by soldiers marching.

Before you can even make sense of what you're seeing, someone grabs you by the shoulder. Get down! Someone has appeared from out of nowhere, and they're trying to get you on the ground. They lay down on their stomach and close their eyes. What's happening? You scream. The lights in the distance are getting closer. The drumming is getting louder. Those are night marchers. The stranger screams at you. They're the army of the undead. Close your eyes!

It's that feeling.

When the energy in the room shifts, when the air gets sucked out of a moment and everything starts to feel wrong. It's the instinct between fight or flight. When your brain is trying to make sense of what it's seeing, it's when your heart starts pounding. Welcome to Heart Starts Pounding, a podcast of horrors, hauntings, and mysteries. I'm your host, Kayla Moore.

This is our third installment of Dark Summer, and I'm taking you deep into the woods with me. We're talking about terrifying encounters people have had while camping. So even if it's winter for you, which I know it is for all of my Australian listeners and everyone else down south, I want you to gather around the campfire, make yourself a s'more, and whatever you do, don't look at the tree line.

But before we dive in, we're taking a bit of a summer break and we'll be off for the next two weeks. But don't worry. If you want more content, I just uploaded this month's bonus episode on Ouija board horror to Patreon and Apple podcast subscriptions. So if you've been looking for the time to subscribe and binge listen to the back catalog and archives, this is it. You can get a free trial on Apple subs and I'm adding a free trial to the $5 Patreon tier as well if you want to check that out.

I'll also still be uploading videos to YouTube. If you haven't subscribed over on YouTube yet, I have a new show called The Attic where each week I talk about what the internet is darkly curious about. Last week, I talked about the theme park ride in Oregon that recently got stuck upside down, full of people for 30 minutes. Come scream with me about that. I'll put a link in the show description.

Okay, we're going to take a quick break. And when we get back, I'm going to tell you about the terrifying ghostly presence that lurks in Hawaii. This episode is brought to you by Fume. What have I talked about often on this show? That some things that used to be popular were actually bad for us.

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Locals in Hawaii know exactly what to do if they hear drums in the distance that have no source. Just ask Lopaka Kapanui. Lopaka has spent his life dedicated to collecting stories of people who have had similar experiences to what I described at the beginning of the episode. He says the islands are alive with spirits, both benevolent and malicious, and it's Hawaiian tradition to pass these stories along by word of mouth as a warning to others.

But one of the most terrifying spirits you can run into is that of the Marching Army of the Dead. Stories of their ghostly encounters have spread around the island for generations, Lopaka says. These stories have stayed preserved for hundreds of years, long after Western influence made its way to the land. The Marching Dead have always been in Hawaii, and they always will be. But they have a name, Nightmarchers.

Night marchers are the spirits of fallen Hawaiian soldiers who have been allowed to come back to Earth on certain nights. Usually it's under the waning crescent moon, the moon phase that casts the least amount of shadows.

You'll know they're coming because you'll hear the sounds of banging drums, chanting, shell horns blowing, and notably you'll see the flames of torches barreling towards you faster than any man can walk. Their presence causes fear, dread, and even death. If they see you, you could be the next to join their army.

So whatever you do, you must not look at them. The best way to save yourself is to lie down, close your eyes, and be quiet as the undead march past you. It's sometimes even suggested that you get naked to show your humility and that you're not the enemy. You'll look like a madman to them and they'll take pity on you. But if they do see you, the only thing you can do is pray.

Those with ancestors in the army can be spared if they call upon them. So basically, if you're not a local with hundreds of years of genealogy on the island, you're done for. Malia Collins grew up in Hawaii, and she learned her mother's superstitions about the island the way that some kids learn nursery rhymes. They were repeated to her early and often.

"No whistling at night. "Don't sleep with your feet towards the window or doorway. "Don't look outside once it's dark. "Never step over a body on the floor. "Don't cut your hair, and if you do cut your hair, save it." But most importantly, she learned about the night marchers. One day, her aunt pointed to the mountains behind her house.

Up on that hill, there used to be a path the warriors would take into battle. It comes down the mountain and leads directly through this house. Young Malia stared at her aunt in horror. They come straight through here? Yes, when your cousin was just a baby, one night the army walked through the house. The first warrior in line took her out of her crib and the last one put her back in. And then her aunt repeated the warning. If they see you looking...

You're the next one dead. But what's scary to children is usually not as scary to adults. Decades passed and Malia grew up. She got married and she had children of her own. She spent time away from Hawaii. And perhaps the night marchers stopped seeming so scary. Like when you think there's a monster under your bed as a child and eventually grow to know that's not possible. Or perhaps she just forgot about them altogether.

Regardless, in 2017, Malia decided to hike with her husband, Josh, 10 miles from Waipio Valley to Waimanu Valley. The hike is gorgeous. Big, flat-top hills covered in dark green foliage roll for miles to one side, and on the other are bluffs that lead down to the ocean. When a storm comes in, the dark cloud cover touches the top of the hills, and the

Malia and her husband walked up to the trailhead where they saw a wooden sign that had a confusing and ominous warning written on it. It read, Good luck!

Menehune, by the way, is a race of small people said to inhabit the island far away from civilization. The two looked at each other and braced themselves. They should be able to do the hike in one day. And if they really needed to, they had tents on them to set up a campsite and rest. And so together they stepped into the jungle, passing the sign as they went.

The first part of the hike was really intense. As they walked in, they could see storm clouds in the distance. A few people walked back to their cars and passed the couple, but as Malia and Josh walked further into the jungle, they started feeling like they weren't going to see anyone else. There were no ocean views during this part, just a thick canopy that blocked out the sky so much parts of the jungle looked like it was the dead of night.

Thick air and switchbacks were making it nearly impossible for Malia to catch her breath. And she thought back to what her mother had told her about the trip. "Don't go any place you're not supposed to go," her mother told her with wide, panicky eyes. But her mother was superstitious. Malia had written off her warning as paranoia.

There was something about the hike, though, that did make her wonder if there was something to her mother's superstitions. There was almost something oppressive in the air, and it wasn't just the humidity. Every few yards, she noticed little sand mounds piled up with crosses on them. Some of them read, "'Keep out, Hawaiian graves,' in the native language."

At one point, she fell quite a bit behind Josh, so she called out for him. She swore he answered, though it didn't sound like his voice. His response seemed to come from deep in the trees and was almost unrecognizable. She didn't have time to think about that, though, because just then, a man was coming their way down the trail. "'Turn back!' he shouted to them as he approached."

It's getting dark. You're only halfway to Waimanu. You'll get stuck on this trail in the dark. You really don't want to do that. But Malia wasn't about to just turn back. She struggled to make it this far, and turning around now would be just as treacherous as continuing. They'd just set up camp once they got to the beach and finished the hike the next day. They thanked the man for his concerns, but they kept going anyways.

Night was coming fast, though. The man was right about that. The couple was probably not going to make it all the way tonight, and they were going to have to stop. Eventually, they saw the black rocks that meant the ocean was near, and eager for rest, the two set up camp on a sandy beach. By 9 p.m., they were both laying down in their tent. What was that man so worried about? Turn back.

Lying there in their tent on the beach, it was so peaceful. The clouds had separated and the stars were out. A gentle wind was blowing. Before she could even finish that thought, Malia was asleep. Sometime in the night, something awoke her. Waves gently crashed in the distance, sloshing around debris that made its way into the ocean after days of rain. She opened her eyes, but couldn't really see anything.

The waning crescent moon didn't offer much light. Then, in the corner of her tent, there was a strange orange glow. It took her a second to realize that it was coming from outside the tent. And then she heard it. The orange glow started getting brighter. As torches made their way down the path, she and her husband traversed towards their tent. A conch blew in the distance.

And she thought back to what her aunt told her. "If you hear the night marchers, keep quiet. Put your head down and pretend you're dead. If they see you, they'll take you with them." And so that's what she did. She squeezed her eyelids together as to not catch even a single glimpse of the marchers. And she put her head down as they got closer and braced herself.

Soon, bodies were brushing against her tent as the undead marchers walked by, their drums pulsing in the night. They were so close, they could almost reach down and just grab her. It was only the thin fabric of the tent that separated her from the warriors.

Malia tried to count to calm herself, but each time she counted a full minute, the marching didn't show any sign of slowing down. "'Don't move, don't move, don't move,' she said over and over in her head, willing her body to stay perfectly still. Plus, she didn't want to wake Josh. He didn't know about night marchers. What if she woke him up and he looked at them?'

The marching started to die down, but not because the warriors had passed. She could tell that now the undead children in the line of marchers were passing her. Their little feet made softer footsteps than the full-grown warriors'.

After a few minutes, the drums faded away in the distance, and she lifted her head. Way down at the end of the beach, she could see the line of their torches split in two. Half of the warriors walked towards the ocean, and the other half walked up into the mountains. Eventually, the torches faded away, and they were gone. The next morning, as she and Josh were taking down the tent, she looked at the sand. She saw the sand.

It looked even smoother than when they had come in for the night. There were no signs of footprints or any disturbances at all. The beach looked pristine. She figured it would be best to not tell Josh what had happened. Not because she thought she would sound crazy, but because she heard that when you talk about spirits in Hawaii, they can hear you. And maybe it was best she kept this one to herself.

Throughout the rest of their hike, Malia got an overwhelming sense that she was not wanted in the jungle. When she tried to take the lead, they kept winding up in the same place as if the jungle wasn't allowing her out. Eventually, Josh had to take the reins and slowly guide them back to safety.

When Malia eventually made it home, she told her mother about the hike. Not about the night marchers though, but just about how difficult it was for her to navigate out of the deep forest. Her mother's eyes went wide. The voice she heard, her mother said, was a mimic pretending to be her husband, trying to call her into the forest.

Malia wondered if the night marchers arrived to fulfill the forest's desires and take her with them. She's lucky that she'll never know. More after the break. This episode is brought to you by Quince.

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One of the most terrifying things you can encounter while out in the woods is a big angry animal. Well, outside of night marchers, apparently. Back in Connecticut, each summer I would work at a nature day camp in my town where kids preschool through fifth grade would come in and learn about frogs or whatever they made me, an ill-informed 16 year old, teach them. Camp started around 9:00 AM, but we had a program for kids who came early.

It was called, "One Teenager Watches All the Kids That Get Dropped Off Early." It was super legit, as you can tell. One morning, my friend was monitoring the early arrivers who were catching frogs down by a small pond, when out of the woods next to her walks a bear. She froze about 20 yards away from where the kids were squatting at the edge of the water

and watched as a 200 pound black bear slowly trod between her and the children. Luckily, none of the kids saw, but who knows what a five-year-old would have done. Bears, though terrifying, have somewhat predictable behavior, especially in the summer when they're well fed and in their element. They rarely randomly attack. And as long as you're not bothering it, it won't bother you.

But what happens if you encounter something in the woods that's unlike any creature you've ever seen? One that doesn't have predictable behavior. What are you supposed to do then? This next story comes from a camping trip that a boy we'll call Ian went on. It was July of 2007 in Northwest Wisconsin. The days were long, school was out, and Rihanna's umbrella was the most played song on the radio.

Ian was 17 years old and headed up to a cabin that his family owned in the woods. He spent every summer there growing up, so he knew things about those woods, like the fact that you should stay in your cabin at night, or at least by a large fire if you were going to be out. The woods were filled with all sorts of creatures, cougars, wolves, bears, and you didn't want to be outside when they could see you, but you couldn't see them.

But there was another reason that he didn't love being out in the area at night. There were times where his family would go down to the beach to have a bonfire, where the tree line of the dark woods was visible, and he always felt like they were being watched from a distance. The deep, dark woods had a sort of omniscient feel to them. Some nights, when the fire was just about out,

He and his younger cousin would hold their breaths as they dumped water on the fire and then took off running back to the cabin. It was said that if you were the slowest, you could feel the darkness of the woods nipping at your heels, preparing to swallow you whole. One day in July, when the sun was out and the woods felt safer,

Ian's cousin asked if he wanted to play with their airsoft rifles in the woods. It was the early afternoon when they dressed up in full camo and ran off the front porch into the forest. They crept up a hiking trail, rifles clutched to their chests. When they came upon a clearing, Ian knew exactly what to say to scare his cousin. So he put his fingers to his lips, making a shushing sound for being watched.

His cousin went dead silent, scared that something was in the forest with them. Ian was trying not to laugh. His cousin looked like he was going to pee himself. But it was then he noticed that the woods went eerily silent, as if someone had turned down the volume, as if all the birds had vacated the trees and the bugs had gone into hiding. A chill went through Ian's whole body. He was just joking, but now something did not feel right.

He turned to say something to his cousin, but saw that his cousin's expression was that of a silent scream. His eyes were locked on something across the clearing. Ian followed his gaze, and when he saw what his cousin was looking at, he felt ice run through his veins. It looked like a wolf, crouched by a tree, but the biggest wolf he had ever seen.

It was close to the size of a bear and must have been 300 pounds or so. It was panting heavily and staring right at Ian's cousin. But what was even more concerning about this creature was how it was positioned. It wasn't on all fours like other wolves, but instead on its two hind legs towering almost seven feet tall. It had one arm outstretched holding onto a tree beside it.

Instead of paws, it looked like it had clawed hands. The way it was standing made it look more human than animal. Ian grabbed his cousin. We have to go. And the two took off running, but so did the wolf. First running on its hind legs and then moving to all fours to pick up speed.

The boys bounded through the woods with the creature right on their heels. It was the same feeling they got when the darkness closed in on them as they ran home from the bonfires. But once they reached the clearing where their cabin was, it was gone. Ian never saw the creature again after that, and he didn't know what to make of it. To this day, he and his cousin wonder if they had some sort of shared delusion.

It sounds fantastical, right? A wolf-human hybrid that lurks in the woods of Wisconsin. But what if I told you that there are multiple reports of this creature from over the years, all independent of each other? Many are from campers and hikers who never even heard of the creature before and couldn't make sense of what they saw.

Linda Godfrey was a journalist for the now defunct Wisconsin newspaper, The Week, when she was assigned to write a profile on locals' experience with this creature. It was an otherwise slow news week and the paper needed some filler. She put out a call for anyone with stories to come forward. And she was shocked at how many people had seen this same creature Ian described.

People who felt crazy, who had tried to tell loved ones and friends about it, but were ultimately laughed at. It made her a believer. And the creature was nicknamed the Beast of Bray Road. Over the years, though, it's earned a more obvious title, Dogman.

Dogman sightings still happen to this day, though it can be hard to find convincing photo or video evidence of him. He's said to still stalk the backwoods of Wisconsin, but he's been seen in other places around the country as well, suggesting there's not just one dogman, but a whole species of them. So if you ever find yourself out in the backwoods this summer and you feel like the woods are watching you, you better watch your back.

Our final story after the break. This episode is brought to you by BetterHelp. This year has gone by really, really fast. I set all of these goals for 2024, and now that we're halfway through, I think I hit some of them. It's really important to celebrate wins, even if they're little. It's just not something I always do a great job with. The truth is, I struggle with anxiety. It's something I've struggled with my whole life.

And when you have anxiety, it can be really hard to feel like you've actually achieved anything. I feel like anytime something good happens, I think, oh, well, something bad is going to happen next. So instead of celebrating the good thing, I just brace for the bad thing. Therapy has really helped me with my anxiety, though. I honestly don't think I'd be able to function if I didn't work with a therapist when I was 17. They taught me how to slow down and get out of my head a little bit.

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Take a moment. Visit betterhelp.com slash staycurious today to get 10% off your first month. That's betterhelp, H-E-L-P dot com slash staycurious. There's a viral question being posed to everyone on the internet over the last few weeks. Would you rather be left alone in the woods with a bear or a man? Responses to this question have been passionate, to say the least.

But I think at the heart of this question is the idea of how terrifying it would be to encounter someone out in the woods whose intentions you don't know. You pretty much know what a bear's intentions are, but people are different. This last story comes from someone I'll call Ben.

Back in 2014, in East Texas, Ben was assigned a big project at work due the following Monday. He knew he was going to have to spend a lot of time over the weekend focusing on the project, and he wasn't going to be able to do that in his tiny apartment. Luckily, his grandparents owned a cabin deep in the Big Thicket, a heavily forested area in East Texas.

It was the perfect place to just disappear into the woods. No distractions, no neighbors for miles. He'd be able to crank out the work he needed to do and take some nice nature-y walks to clear his head. So he called up his grandpa to ask if he could stay in the cabin that weekend. I'd prefer you didn't go by yourself, his granddad said. He was a worrier.

There were just so many places to get hurt in the woods. It was always good to have a buddy. But Ben reminded his granddad that he was 24 now and he had basically grown up hiking in the area. He knew the area as well as anyone. And he was really just gonna be head down riding all weekend anyways. His grandfather finally agreed that Ben could go by himself, but not before he asked one last question. You know where I keep old Henry, right?

Old Henry, of course, was his granddad's rifle. A 30-30 Henry repeater, to be exact. It was mostly used for shooting whitetails, but you never knew if something bigger would come along and you'd need protection.

Yeah, I know where it is, Ben replied. Honestly, that kind of freaked him out though. His granddad never really talked about having guns out in the cabin. Maybe it was this acknowledgement that he might need it that spooked him, but he still figured he'd be fine. The next day, Ben left the office around 4.30 and headed out.

Getting out of Houston was a nightmare, but things died down once he got out into the woods. It got quieter, more still. Ben pulled up to the cabin around 7:00 PM. All the lights on the porch and inside were off. He was thankful there was a little bit of daylight left as he drove up. As he unloaded his things and brought them inside, he thought about writing that night, but decided to take a walk first before it got too dark.

There was a three-mile loop that went around the property that would be a perfect way to clear his head before he got started, he thought. He had grown up walking the trail. Really, no one but his family walked that trail. So it did get overgrown quite often, which sometimes got a little dicey when you were hiking. He grabbed a flashlight just in case it got too dark on his way back, and he walked out of the house. And as he walked out of the house, he thought about old Henry.

He could grab it just in case. Wouldn't hurt. But before he could turn all the way around, he saw a five foot tall walking stick in the corner. Eh, that's basically the same thing, he thought. And he grabbed it. There was no moon that night. And slowly, the Milky Way revealed itself, blanketing the night sky. It was gorgeous. He really didn't see anything like that in the city, he thought to himself. It was finally dark enough for him to turn his flashlight on.

And when he did, he saw just how overgrown part of the trail had become. Branches and vines made it nearly impossible for Ben to pass. He walked up to the impasse and shone his flashlight through it just to see how bad it was. When he saw something on the other side, it looked like there was a pile of clothes laying in the path, just beyond the thicket.

He squinted to get a better view and shone the light directly on the clothes when they twitched. Next thing he knew, the clothes were off the ground and whoever they were attached to was sprinting off deeper into the woods in the direction of the cabin. Ben's heart nearly dropped out of his body and adrenaline rushed through his veins. He should have brought old Henry. What was he thinking? If anything were to happen out here, no one would know until Monday. He reached for his phone.

but his pocket was empty. All of his pockets were empty actually. The phone was by his bag, back in the cabin. Shoot. He took off back in the direction of the cabin. As long as he could get back there quickly, he would probably be fine. But as he approached, his expression dropped. The front door was ajar. Did he leave it open? No, there's no way.

He tiptoed up the porch, trying to reason with himself in his head, but perhaps knowing the truth in his gut. Slowly, he pushed the door the rest of the way open. And that's when he heard it. A loud shriek came from inside the house near the living room. Every nerve in Ben's body was on fire as he ran through the house and upstairs. He wasn't even thinking. He just knew he had to get to his phone.

Once inside the bedroom, he locked himself in the room and then again in the bathroom and called 911. The shrieking continued downstairs. Ben barely made any sense as he tried to describe what was happening to the 911 operator. Who was in the house? What if they had old Henry? He should have grabbed it on the way out. Why didn't he grab it? Finally, around 20 minutes later, he hears, "'Police! Come out!' from downstairs."

He unlocked the bathroom and ran out only to hear another officer yell for someone to get an ambulance. What was happening? Ben opened the bedroom door to peek out into the hall and an officer was there with his gun drawn on him. On the ground, he shouted and Ben obliged, not sure what else to do. Still confused as to what was going on, the officer was on him, handcuffing him.

He brought Ben downstairs where he finally saw what was happening. In the middle of the living room, laying on the floor in the clothes he had been wearing in the woods was a man, a pool of blood lying under his head. Ben was pulled out of the house and brought to the car for questioning. To this day, Ben doesn't know who the man was or even what happened to him.

Eventually, officers cleared Ben of any wrongdoing and explained the situation a bit more. They claimed that neighbors down the road had reported seeing a man in the area acting erratically. He must have been suffering from some mental illness and ran into Ben's house. From there, they didn't really know what happened. Maybe he just slipped and fell?

That explanation, though, didn't do much to make Ben and his grandfather feel any better. What if the man had been running from something and ran into the cabin for safety? And what if the thing he was running from finally caught up with him there? Needless to say, that was the last time that Ben ever went to his grandfather's cabin alone.

As you pack up your camping equipment this summer to go on a backwoods adventure, remember what you've heard here today. And if you'd like more creepy stories of Dogman, be sure to join me over on the High Council tier of Patreon, where I'll be sharing more encounters and some video evidence of Dogman with producer Matt.

One thing I wanted to mention before we're done is that if you're interested in tales of night marchers and you're able to go to Hawaii, Lopaka Kapanui actually does night marcher tours. I'll include a link in the description, but I am adding that to my horror bucket list immediately.

So this summer, if you do come into contact with something unexpected in the woods, you better tell me about it afterwards. I'm serious. Heartstarspounding.com. There's a form there. Fill it out. Send it to me. I cannot wait to hear your stories.

Heart Starts Pounding is written and produced by me, Kalem Moore. Heart Starts Pounding is also produced by Matt Brown. Additional research by Marissa Dow. Sound design and mix by Peachtree Sound. Special thanks to Travis Dunlap, Grayson Jernigan, the team at WME, and Ben Jaffe. Have a heart pounding story or a case request? Check out heartstartspounding.com. Until next time, stay curious.

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