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Chapter Six: Dogman

There are a lot of people that go missing in the forest. It is a dangerous place. WIld Creatures that are known to society are dangerous enough, but to consider the Bigfoot community as also causing these disappearances? This is a multiplying factor. J would say, “Never hike alone. Always carry Bear Repellant. Don’t wear bright colors. Don’t hike in November when all meat eating Creatures (this means Bigfoot too) are feasting up for the winter.” Well, someone being dragged away by a Bigfoot as it flees; now, that is a first? If not, then those in this situation never lived to talk about it.
“Many of the missing are hiking alone. Never do this!”
Don’t rush ahead of your hiking party, because that makes you an easy abduction. In the same manner, don’t lag back behind your group of hikers. Again, as easy target.
If there is only one or two of you make noises that make it sound like you are a larger group. Yes, it sounds silly, but you will do it if you hear large Creatures walking alongside you, only you can’t see them due to the brush and trees.
Now Eliot was far worse off than being too far ahead or too far behind.
The Creature used the dry creek bed, intially to start treding up the hill. It paused to see what his attackers were doing. No fire sticks nor flames were in pursuit.
In the meantime, the dry creek was not dry, but had some remaining water in it. Eliot, now resting in the water quietly, holding his mouth up for air as he was mostly under the shallow water. His right shoulder tightly secured to the barbed wire.
Eliot struggled to unleash himself from the barbed wire. He was able to flip over so that the ride on top of the fencing was not hurting him as much, but was bumpy as all-get-out. The ride became rougher as the unlikely stowaway exited the dry creek bed, and then up the tree covered hill. Eliot made it to his feet as the dragging paused. The Journey then continued, but Eliot was grateful to be on his feet. It was evident that Scarred One was ripping the fencing along each tree that it was passing. Up the hill it went. Eliot was aware that his time to free himself from the fence was becoming less and less as the fencing brigade was approaching the upper populated part of the hill. Once to the crest of the hill, things would open up a bit with Junipers, Oak, and tall grass, before opening up to rolling pasture, and secretive watering holes. Populated, by a few neighbors in this area, as J had taken Eliot up back that way, months earlier, to check for updated signs of Bigfoot. On that day we found broken tree branches that were too high for a cow or wildlife to snap. No, these branches were twisted into snapping, six feet high, with the branch hanging in each instance. You need hands to grab and twist, and Bigfoot have hands. Track impressions were also found that day. If you know what you are looking for, it becomes easier to see. Eliot was suspicious of a game trail that day, knowing how Bigfoot follows game trails to avoid detection. The trail went up and down the hill, like a highway. Also, was an area of mashed grass behind a fallen oak tree, as if big creatures were laying down, to spy on the cattle.
These signs of Evidence were all making sense now, as Eliot lumbered up the hill, trying to avoid being graded against each passing tree.
Suddenly, Eliot passed a tree, THAT WAS NOT a tree. It was another Bigfoot. It was grey. Eliot fell limp as to avoid detection; choosing the better of two evils. Being dragged up the hill and being bounced off of trees, was an acceptable cost if the surrounding Bigfoot could not detect him. It was easy enough to grab bushes, grass, twigs, and small sage brush to add to his existing clutter, as to go undetected. This was the hope. It was fine to go undetected, but the problem was entering into the bees nest of the situation. Eliot wondered what J, Shakoda, and Clarice were up to.
Other than Scarred One, J had witnessed a Grey Bigfoot, and this may have likely been that one. Eliot thought, maybe “Old One” was the Watcher in this scenario. Watching, and ready to communicate with Scarred One, as needed. This makes Scarred One the Scout.
A clan of Bigfoot is normally one Alpha Male, his wives, and children. Since Scarred One had obviously lost a maJr battle at one point, and Old One, was smaller, only about seven feet tall, Eliot’s thinking was that these two were not in charge; at least, not tonight.
Eliot had asked once if he had given the “Old One” a name. He said no, so “Old One” was thus, coined. He had actually seen this one, as opposed to One why which had been mostly red eyeshine, and dark silhouette.
Scarred One had been spotted on a game cam about six months earlier, but most said it was a blob squatch, which is an unclear photo of a Bigfoot, which most Bigfoot photos are. Eliot had felt that this was caused by the Bigfoot’s infrasound abilities; blob-squatching the film and even digital images that would normally be considered as evidence. This would further prove that the Bigfoot society wants to remain unseen. Except when they do.
The game camera! Eliot recognized the area, and started looking for it. There it was! Eliot leaped towards the tree with the camera, waited, then Eliot hooked some barb wire around the camera, and tug-tug-tug, and off came the camera with a rip-snap-crunch-shred sound. This could come in handy, he thought.
Despite all this thought, Eliot was praying a lot, in Jesus Name! It was the only weapon he had at the moment.
Eliot had a couple of theories. One was that a person of God, was feared by the Bigfoot. Why? Because of the Bigfoot nature to resemble demon heritage, and thus are repelled by any vessel that has the Spirit of God within them.
Another theory, is that all human kind, when they are dying, turn from stubbornness and seek the only Hope left for them. So every human has even a slight spark of the Spirit of God; even a tiny seed of it planted at some point in their life. Some never answer that call, and the Spirit in them is faint. This allows the Bigfoot to wreak terror upon them, as they become the victim. Considering all of this, Eliot felt they would not want to mess with him once they realized he was stuck to that fence material, but surely they would throw debris at him or even fry his brain with infrasound; regardless, he prayed.
Scarred One had reached his destination evidently, and had stopped. Eliot was about forty yards away, yes that is a lot of barbed wire. He could see Scarred One, partially, and something ripped the fencing off of the Creature. The result was a blood curdling hauler, that was quickly stifled. Perhaps, in hopes of not attracting too much more attention.
Old One, was coming up the hill towards Eliot, as it had now caught up. Eliot, covered in Bear Repellent and dust, stood a chance of going undetected. Eliot stayed still as Old One passed. My prayers intensified, silently in his head, right then, and as if a form of radar bouncing off the Bigfoot, it suddenly turned in fear. It pushed a tree towards Eliot’s direction as it took off up the hill. The Jig was up, and it was time to take action. Finally, with the ride over the terrain, now having come to an end for a sustained amount of seconds, Eliot wrestled free of the wire, but ripping off most of his right Jacket sleeve.
Eliot rolled over and climbed up the remaining slope a bit North of the area that had Just entrapped him. He had half a mind to strap the game camera onto a tree facing all the action ahead. Instead he attached it to his chest as to look more intimidating if needed.
Scarred One, was being consulted by Old One. Eliot could hear what sounded like Indian chatter, being shared between the two. This also is called Samari Chatter. Old One was pointing down towards where Eliot’s prayer “vibe” had freaked it out. Scarred One seemed concerned, and looked further up and started barking.
Old One had minions with him, and Eliot was not sure what they were, as he was unable to deduce since he was quietly climbing a tree.
Together they got the barbed wire untangled from the right leg.
Next, they all took off, as the barking continued. Something was approaching from below.
Eliot decided to do what we all would do, and climbed the nearest tree. No way we would outrun whatever was approaching. It was BIG, and was coming on all fours. It was no wonder that the Bigfoot Creatures had been barking out their last communications, for what was now below me, was the Dogman. No way to describe it any other way, and it started circling the tree. It looked like a werewolf, which fits the description of a Dogman. A Giant wolf, that could stand upright or run on all fours. Scary, but yes, as big, if not Bigger than Bigfoot. A head that seemed related to human, dog, bigfoot, and demons.
So type One Bigfoot is what we are all use to has a harry human-like giant. Type two is smaller than that. Type three smaller still, Bigfoot-ish, but has more of a snout, and is often with Bigfoot. Type four, is Dogman, does not get along with Bigfoot, so whatever is happening on this night is BIG, and it was clear who was calling the shots, the Dogman. At least, so far. Dogman, Old One, and finally Scarred One, in that Order.
Eliot started texting J, “Scarred One unknowingly pulled me up the Hill. Old One afraid of me when I was praying. Dogman seems to be in charge. Up a tree.” In truth all he could get out, was “Burn it!”
Eliot was now about thirty yards up the tree, and that was about as far as he was going to be able. Dogman stood up on two legs and started sniffing the tree. It was about ten feet tall, so it would not have far to go up the tree to reach him.
Eliot started looking for weapons. The shotgun he was carrying, was gone. He had acquired a hunting knife that he was fond of, but that would be no match for this beast. Eliot chose to stay still, and wait.
He could see figures in the distance to the west, as if a procession. Beings were using the game trail, that had been so on Eliot’s mind that first time that Wyam took him out to see the surrounding area; looking for evidence of Bigfoot activity. That day would pay dividends tonight as it made him familiar with this part of the hillside woodland’s.
There was a homestead shanty to his south, and a hollowed out tree too far away, to the west, to help him at the moment.
The wind was such, that Eliot was downwind from the action up westward, which was in his favor. If he could ditch the Dogman. The stench was putrid as it wafted towards him. Bigfoot smells this bad. It was triggering Eliot’s gag reflex, which actually made him feel a little more brave, but now Dogman was pushing the tree, and then decided to climb it. In no time at all it would be dragging, Elito out of the tree, so he took the opportunity to unceremoniously throw up over the stalker. This actually made Eliot feel better, after all the stench, bear repellant, anxiety. Dogman did not like this of course. In anger it shredded up the tree, smashing branches in its wake. From its perspective it could see clearly at night; thus, Eliot was a sitting duck. What it saw was a dark human figure, smelling pretty bad for a human, and was not moving at all. This actually, confused Dogman. When it heard the words, “Be gone in Jesus name” it had had enough. That was the final straw for the Wolf Monster. The demon heritage of the Dogman was repelled by this, but still lunged its open Jaws to shut up the human. Evidently Dogmen are a different enough mix of demon breeding, to not be as scared about who it kills.
That morning Eliot and Shakoda left for J’s extremely early from Oregon, and had stopped at an all-night market, up the Columbia River, on the Oregon side, and grabbed some unusual snacks that reminded them of their childhood. It was a hoot, and now a help, as Eliot poured Pop-Rocks-candy into the wide open mouth of death.
The Dogman went berserk, and couldn’t get out of that tree fast enough. Snap-pop, went the candy bits as it exploded in its mouth.
Eliot seeing this as an opportunity, and maybe a soft landing, leaped down the same path that the Dogman had Just exited, and landed on the Dogman. 200 pounds of human landing fully onto this 1000 pound wolf-mutant, with that Hunting knife deeply implanted into the neck.
Dogman took off, heading westward towards the rest of the commotion. This threw Eliot further up the hill, allowing him to be thrust towards the nearby homestead. Running, viewing, looking, running, and then Jumping in threw an already broken window. The home was quiet. Something maJr had already happened. Many go missing every year, and they are lost, and they are missing, but the missing are not missing, because in many cases, these Creatures have found them, and then they never return. The missing are never missing! They are just gone.

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