“WHEN ALBERT OSTMAN WAS KIDNAPPED BY BIGFOOT” and More True Freaky Stories! #WeirdDarkness

WHEN ALBERT OSTMAN WAS KIDNAPPED BY BIGFOOT” and More True Freaky Stories! #WeirdDarkness

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IN THIS EPISODE: When mine owners cut wages in 1870s Pennsylvania, the Molly Maguires fought back and ultimately won what would become the first labor war in U.S. history… although they had to assassinate a couple dozen people to do it. (Inside The Molly Maguires) *** Numerous cultures have images of a being tied to nature – simply called “The Green Man”. But how can so many different cultures spanning so many years have almost the exact same representation of him? (Digging Into The Roots of the Green Man) *** There is a scary urban legend from Spain about a bizarre website that offers you the ultimate horror experience. Apparently, the experience can prove to be lethal. (The Blind Maiden) *** In 1898, reports of a brutal killing surfaced in Ontario, Canada… and it was only then that the settlers finally began to believe what the local Algonquin tribe had been telling them about the Wendigo. (Horror of the Wendigo) *** The Azores island chain in the Atlantic is said by sailors to be the site of strange and disturbing events. Some are so spooked by the waters surrounding these islands that they refuse to go there. (Vanishings Around the Azores) *** Is it true that Bigfoot has abducted humans and run off with them? There are numerous stories that seem to lay credence to theidea! (The Albert Ostman Bigfoot Abduction / Kidnapped By Sasquatch) *** (Originally aired March 01, 2021)

Thumbnail art by Nicholas Lawyer: https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/59wft49t
“Vanishings Around the Azores” by Ellen Lloyd for Ancient Pages: https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/2wu4hw2b
“Kidnapped By Sasquatch” by Loren Coleman for Cryptomundo: https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/vwjbdyrk
“The Albert Ostman Bigfoot Abduction” by John Green from the book “Sasquatch: The Apes Among Us”: https://amzn.to/3szuxGs
“Horror of the Wendigo” was posted at CNEWS (link no longer available)
“The Blind Maiden” by Christina Skelton: https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/95xt6bu
“Inside The Molly Maguires” by Genevieve Carlton for All That’s Interesting: https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/c4h96kj7
“Digging Into The Roots of the Green Man” by Riley Winters for Ancient Origins: https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/4aa66c8k
“Vanishings Around the Azores” by Ellen Lloyd for Ancient Pages: https://weirddarkness.tiny.us/2wu4hw2b
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Stories and content in Weird Darkness can be disturbing for some listeners and intended for mature audiences only. Parental discretion is strongly advised.


Welcome, Weirdos – (I’m Darren Marlar and) this is Weird Darkness. Here you’ll find stories of the paranormal, supernatural, legends, lore, the strange and bizarre, crime, conspiracy, mysterious, macabre, unsolved and unexplained.

Coming up in this episode…

When mine owners cut wages in 1870s Pennsylvania, the Molly Maguires fought back and ultimately won what would become the first labor war in U.S. history… although they had to assassinate a couple dozen people to do it. (Inside The Molly Maguires)

Numerous cultures have images of a being tied to nature – simply called “The Green Man”. But how can so many different cultures spanning so many years have almost the exact same representation of him? (Digging Into The Roots of the Green Man)

There is a scary urban legend from Spain about a bizarre website that offers you the ultimate horror experience. Apparently, the experience can prove to be lethal. (The Blind Maiden)

In 1898, reports of a brutal killing surfaced in Ontario, Canada… and it was only then that the settlers finally began to believe what the local Algonquin tribe had been telling them about the Wendigo. (Horror of the Wendigo)

The Azores island chain in the Atlantic is said by sailors to be the site of strange and disturbing events. Some are so spooked by the waters surrounding these islands that they refuse to go there. (Vanishings Around the Azores)

Is it true that Bigfoot has abducted humans and run off with them? There are numerous stories that seem to back up the idea! (The Albert Ostman Bigfoot Abduction / Kidnapped By Sasquatch)

If you’re new here, welcome to the show! While you’re listening, be sure to check out WeirdDarkness.com for merchandise, to visit sponsors you hear about during the show, sign up for my newsletter, enter contests, connect with me on social media, plus, you can visit the Hope in the Darkness page if you’re struggling with depression or dark thoughts. You can find all of that and more at WeirdDarkness.com.

Now.. bolt your doors, lock your windows, turn off your lights, and come with me into the Weird Darkness!


The following is a first-hand account from Albert Ostman. It’s from the book “Sasquatch: Apes Among Us” by John Green, which I have linked to in the show notes…

* * * * *

I have always followed logging and construction work. This time I had worked over one year on a construction job, and thought a good vacation was in order. B. C. is famous for lost gold mines.

One is supposed to be at the head of Toba Inlet — why not look for this mine and have a vacation at the same time? I took the Union Steamship boat to Lund, B.C. From there I hired an old Indian to take me to the head of Toba Inlet.

This old Indian was a very talkative old gentleman. He told me stories about gold brought out by a white man from this lost mine. This white man was a very heavy drinker — spent his money freely in saloons. But he had no trouble in getting more money. He would be away a few days, then come back with a bag of gold. But one time he went to his mine and never came back. Some people said a Sasquatch had killed him.

At that time I had never heard of Sasquatch. So I asked what kind of an animal he called a Sasquatch. The Indian said, “They have hair all over their bodies, but they are not animals. They are people. Big people living in the mountains. My uncle saw the tracks of one that were two feet long. One old Indian saw one over eight feet tall.”

I told the Indian I didn’t believe in their old fables about mountain giants. It might have been some thousands of years ago, but not nowadays.

The Indian said: “There may not be many, but they still exist.”

We arrived at the head of the inlet about 4:00 p.m. I made camp at the mouth of a creek …The Indian had supper with me, and I told him to look out for me in about three weeks. I would be camping at the same spot when I came back …

Next morning I took my rifle with me, but left my equipment at the camp. I decided to look around for some deer trail to lead me up into the mountains. On the way up the inlet I had seen a pass in the mountain that I wanted to go through, to see what was on the other side.

I spent most of the forenoon looking for a trail but found none, except for a hogback running down to the beach. So I swamped out a trail from there, got back to my camp about 3:00 p.m. that afternoon, and made up my pack to be ready in the morning. My equipment consisted of one 30- 30 Winchester rifle, I had a special home-made prospecting pick, axe on one end, pick on the other. I had a leather case for this pick which fastened to my belt, also my sheath knife.

The storekeeper at Lund was co-operative. He gave me some cans for my sugar, salt and matches to keep them dry. My grub consisted mostly of canned stuff, except for a side of bacon, a bag of beans, four pounds of prunes and six packets of macaroni, cheese, three pounds of pancake flour and six packets of Rye King hard tack, three rolls of snuff, one quart sealer of butter and two one-pound cans of milk. I had two boxes of shells for my rifle.

The storekeeper gave me a biscuit tin. I put a few things in that and cached it under a windfall, so I would have it when I came back here waiting for a boat to bring me out. My sleeping bag I rolled up and tied on top of my pack sack, together with my ground sheet, small frying pan, and one aluminum pot that held about a gallon. As my canned food was used, I would get plenty of empty cans to cook with.

The following morning I had an early breakfast, made up my pack, and started out up this hogback. My pack must have been at least eighty pounds, besides my rifle. After one hour, I had to rest. I kept resting and climbing all that morning. About 2:00 p.m. I came to a flat place below a rock bluff. There was a bunch of willow in one place. I made a wooden spade and started digging for water. About a foot down I got seepings of water, so I decided to camp here for the night, and scout around for the best way to get on from here.

I must have been up to near a thousand feet. There was a most beautiful view over the islands and the Strait — tugboats with log booms, and fishing boats going in all directions. A lovely spot. I spent the following day prospecting round. But no sign of minerals. I found a deer trail leading towards this pass that I had seen on my way up the inlet. The following morning I started out early, while it was cool. It was steep climbing with my heavy pack. After a three hours climb, I was tired and stopped to rest. On the other side of a ravine from where I was resting was a yellow spot below some small trees. I moved over there and started digging for water.

I found a small spring and made a small trough from cedar bark and got a small amount of water, had my lunch and rested here ’till evening … I made it over the pass late that night.

Now I had downhill and good going, but I was hungry and tired, so I camped at the first bunch of trees I came to … I was trying to size up the terrain — what direction I would take from here. Towards west would lead to low land and some other inlet, so I decided to go in a northeast direction … had good going and slight down hill all day. I must have made 10 miles when I came to a small spring and a big black hemlock tree.

This was a lovely campsite, I spent two days here just resting and prospecting. The first night here I shot a small deer…

(Two days later) … I found an exceptionally good campsite. It was two good-sized cypress trees growing close together and near a rock wall with a nice spring just below these trees. I intended to make this my permanent camp. I cut lots of brush for my bed between these trees. I rigged up a pole from this rock wall to hang my packsack on, and I arranged some flat rocks for my fireplace for cooking. I had a really classy setup… And that is when things began to happen.

I am a heavy sleeper, not much disturbs me after I go to sleep, especially on a good bed like I had now.

Next morning I noticed things had been disturbed during the night. But nothing missing I could see. I roasted my grouse on a stick for breakfast…

That night I filled up the magazine of my rifle. I still had one full box of 20 shells and six shells in my coat pocket. That night I laid my rifle under the edge of my sleeping bag. I thought a porcupine had visited me the night before and porkies like leather, so I put my shoes in the bottom of my sleeping bag.

Next morning my pack sack had been emptied out. Some one had turned the sack upside down. It was still hanging on the pole from the shoulder straps as i had hung it up. Then I noticed one half-pound package of prunes was missing. Also my pancake flour was missing, but my salt bag was not touched. Porkies always look for salt, so I decided it must be something else than porkies. I looked for tracks but found none. I did not think it was a bear, they always tear up and make a mess of things. I kept close to camp these days in case this visitor would come back.

I climbed up on a big rock where I had a good view of the camp, but nothing showed up. I was hoping it would be a porky, so I would get a good porky stew. These visits had now been going on for three nights…

This night it was cloudy and looked like it might rain. I took special notice of how everything was arranged. I closed my pack sack, I did not undress, I only took off my shoes, put them in the bottom of my sleeping bag. I drove my prospecting pick into one of the cypress trees so I could reach it from my bed. I also put the rifle alongside me, inside my sleeping bag. I fully intended to stay awake all night to find out who my visitor was, but I must have fallen asleep.

I was awakened by something picking me up. I was half asleep and at first I did not remember where I was. As I began to get my wits together, I remembered I was on this prospecting trip, and in my sleeping bag.

My first thought was — it must be a snow slide, but there was no snow around my camp. Then it felt like I was tossed on horseback, but I could feel whoever it was, was walking.

I tried to reason out what kind of animal this could be. I tried to get at my sheath knife, and cut my way out, but I was in an almost sitting position, and the knife was under me. I could not get hold of it, but the rifle was in front of me, I had a good hold of that, and had no intention to let go of it. At times I could feel my packsack touching me, and could feel the cans in the sack touching my back.

After what seemed like an hour, I could feel we were going up a steep hill. I could feel myself rise for every step. What was carrying me was breathing hard and sometimes gave a slight cough. Now, I knew this must be one of the mountain Sasquatch giants the Indian told me about.

I was in a very uncomfortable position — unable to move. I was sitting on my feet, and one of the boots in the bottom of the bag was crossways with the hobnail sole up across my foot. It hurt me terribly, but I could not move.

It was very hot inside. It was lucky for me this fellow’s hand was not big enough to close up the whole bag when he picked me up — there was a small opening at the top, otherwise I would have choked to death.

Now he was going downhill. I could feel myself touching the ground at times and at one time he dragged me behind him and I could feel he was below me. Then he seemed to get on level ground and was going at a trot for a long time. By this time, I had cramps in my legs, the pain was terrible. I was wishing he would get to his destination soon. I could not stand this type of transportation much longer.

Now he was going uphill again. It did not hurt me so bad. I tried to estimate distance and directions. As near as I could guess we were about three hours travelling. I had no idea when he started as I was asleep when he picked me up.

Finally he stopped and let me down. Then he dropped my packsack, I could hear the cans rattle. Then I heard chatter — some kind of talk I did not understand. The ground was sloping so when he let go of my sleeping bag, I rolled downhill. I got my head out, and got some air. I tried to straighten my legs and crawl out, but my legs were numb.

It was still dark, I could not see what my captors looked like. I tried to massage my legs to get some life in them, and get my shoes on. I could hear now it was at least four of them, they were standing around me, and continuously chattering. I had never heard of Sasquatch before the Indian told me about them. But I knew I was right among them.

But how to get away from them, that was another question? I got to see the outline of them now, as it began to get lighter, though the sky was cloudy, and it looked like rain, in fact there was a slight sprinkle.

I now had circulation in my legs, but my left foot was very sore on top where it had been resting on my hobnail boots. I got my boots out from the sleeping bag and tried to stand up. I found that I was wobbly on my feet, but I had a good hold of my rifle.

I asked, “What you fellows want with me?” Only some more chatter.

It was getting lighter now, and I could see them quite clearly. I could make out forms of four people. Two big and two little ones. They were all covered with hair and no clothes on at all.

I could now make out mountains all around me. I looked at my watch. It was 4:25 a.m. It was getting lighter now and I could see the people clearly.

They look like a family, old man, old lady and two young ones, a boy and a girl. The boy and the girl seem to be scared of me. The old lady did not seem too pleased about what the old man dragged home. But the old man was waving his arms and telling them all what he had in mind. They all left me then.

I had my compass and my prospecting glass on strings around my neck. The compass in my lefthand shirt pocket and my glass in my right hand pocket. 1 tried to reason our location, and where I was. I could see now that I was in a small valley or basin about eight or ten acres, surrounded by high mountains, on the southeast side there was a V-shaped opening about eight feet wide at the bottom and about twenty feet high at the highest point — that must be the way I came in. But how will I get out? The old man was now sitting near this opening.

I moved my belongings up close to the west wall. There were two small cypress trees there, and this will do for a shelter for the time being. Until I find out what these people want with me, and how to get away from here. I emptied out my packsack to see what I had left in the line of food. All my canned meat and vegetables were intact and I had one can of coffee. Also three small cans of milk — two packages of Rye King hard tack and my butter sealer half full of butter. But my prunes and macaroni were missing. Also my full box of shells for my rifle. I had my sheath knife but my prospecting pick was missing and my can of matches. I only had my safety box full and that held only about a dozen matches. That did not worry me — I can always start a fire with my prospecting glass when the sun is shining, if I got dry wood. I wanted hot coffee, but I had no wood, also nothing around here that looked like wood. I had a good look over the valley from where I was — but the boy and girl were always watching me from behind some juniper bush. I decided there must be some water around here. The ground was leaning towards the opening in the wall. There must be water at the upper end of this valley, there is green grass and moss along the bottom.

All my utensils were left behind. I opened my coffee tin and emptied the coffee in a dishtowel and tied it with the metal strip from the can. I took my rifle and the can and went looking for water. Right at the head under a cliff there was a lovely spring that disappeared underground. I got a drink, and a full can of water. When I got back the young boy was looking over my belongings, but did not touch anything. On my way back I noticed where these people were sleeping. On the east side wall of this valley was a shelf in the mountain side, with overhanging rock, looking something like a big undercut in a big tree about 10 feet deep and 30 feet wide. The floor was covered with lots of dry moss, and they had some kind of blankets woven of narrow strips of cedar bark, packed with dry moss. They looked very practical and warm — with no need of washing.

The first day not much happened. I had to eat my food cold. The young fellow was coming nearer me, and seemed curious about me. My one snuff box was empty, so I relied it toward him. When he saw it coming, he sprang up quick as a cat, and grabbed it. He went over to his sister and showed her. They found out how to open and close it — they spent a long time playing with it — then he trotted over to the old man and showed him. They had a long chatter.

Next morning, I made up my mind to leave this place — if I had to shoot my way out. I could not stay much longer, I had only enough grub to last me till I got back to Toba Inlet. I did not know the direction but I would go down hill and I would come out near civilization some place. I rolled up my sleeping bag, put that inside my pack sack — packed the few cans I had — swung the sack on my back, injected the shell in the barrel of my rifle and started for the opening in the wall. The old man got up, held up his hands as though he would push me back.

I pointed to the opening. I wanted to go out. But he stood there pushing towards me — and said something that sounded like “Soka, soka.” I backed up to about sixty feet. I did not want to be too close, I thought, if I had to shoot my way out. A 30-30 might not have much effect on this fellow, it might make him mad. I only had six shells so I decided to wait. There must be a better way than killing him, in order to get out from here. I went back to my campsite to figure out some other way to get out.

I could make friends with the young fellow or the girl, they might help me. If I only could talk to them. Then I thought of a fellow who saved himself from a mad bull by blinding him with snuff in his eyes. But how will I get near enough to this fellow to put snuff in his eyes? So I decided next time I give the young fellow my snuff box to leave a few grains of snuff in it. He might give the old man a taste of it.

But the question is, in what direction will I go, if I should get out? I must have been near 25 miles northeast of Toba Inlet when I was kidnapped. This fellow must have travelled at least 25 miles in the three hours he carried me. If he went west we would be near salt water — same thing if he went south — therefore he must have gone northeast. If I then keep going south and over two mountains, I must hit salt water someplace between Lund and Vancouver.

The following day I did not see the old lady till about 4:00 p.m. She came home with her arms full of grass and twigs and of all kinds of spruce and hemlock as well as some kind of nuts that grow in the ground. I have seen lots of them on Vancouver Island. The young fellow went up the mountain to the east every day, he could climb better than a mountain goat. He picked some kind of grass with long sweet roots. He gave me some one day — they tasted very sweet. I gave him another snuff box with about a teaspoon of snuff in it. He tasted it, then went to the old man — he licked it with his tongue. They had a long chat. I made a dipper from a milk can. I made many dippers — you can use them for pots too — you cut two slits near the top of any can — then cut a limb from any small tree — cut down back of the limb down the stem of the tree — then taper the part you cut from the stem. Then cut a hole in the tapered part, slide the tapered part in the slit you have made in the can, and you have a good handle on your can. I threw one over to the young fellow, that was playing near my camp, he picked it up and looked at it then he went to the old man and showed it to him. They had a long chatter. Then he came to me, pointed at the dipper then at his sister. I could see that he wanted one for her too. I had other peas and carrots, so I made one for his sister. He was standing only eight feet away from me. When I had made the dipper, I dipped it in water and drank from it, he was very pleased, almost smiled at me. Then I took a chew of snuff, smacked my lips, said that’s good.

The young fellow pointed to the old man, said something that sounded like “Ook.” I got the idea that the old man liked snuff, and the young fellow wanted a box for the old man. I shook my head. I motioned with my hands for the old man to come to me. I do not think the young fellow understood what I meant. He went to his sister and gave her the dipper I made for her. They did not come near me again that day. I had now been here six days, but I was sure I was making progress. If only I could get the old man to come over to me, get him to eat a full box of snuff that would kill him for sure, and that way kill himself, I wouldn’t be guilty of murder.

The old lady was a meek old thing. The young fellow was by this time quite friendly. The girl would not hurt anybody. Her chest was flat like a boy’s — no development like young ladies. I am sure if I could get the old man out of the way I could easily have brought this girl out with me to civilization. But what good would that have been? I would have to keep her in a cage for public display. I don’t think we have any right to force our way of life on other people, and I don’t think they would like it. (The noise and racket in a modern city they would not like any more than I do.)

The young fellow might have been between 11-18 years old and about seven feet tall and might weight about 300 lbs. His chest would be 50-55 inches, his waist about 36-38 inches. He had wide jaws, narrow forehead, that slanted upward round at the back about four or five inches higher than the forehead. The hair on their heads was about six inches long. The hair on the rest of their body was short and thick in places. The women’s hair on the forehead had an upward turn like some women have — they call it bangs, among women’s hair-do’s. Nowadays the old lady could have been anything between 40-70 years old. She was over seven feet tall. She would be about 500-600 pounds.

She had very wide hips, and a goose-like walk. She was not built for beauty or speed. Some of those lovable brassieres and uplifts would have been a great improvement on her looks and her figure. The man’s eyeteeth were longer than the rest of the teeth, but not long enough to be called tusks. The old man must have been near eight feet tall. Big barrel chest and big hump on his back — powerful shoulders, his biceps on upper arm were enormous and tapered down to his elbows. His forearms were longer than common people have, but well proportioned. His hands were wide, the palm was long and broad, and hollow like a scoop. His fingers were short in proportion to the rest of his hand. His fingernails were like chisels. The only place they had no hair was inside their hands and the soles of their feet and upper part of the nose and eyelids. I never did see their ears, they were covered with hair hanging over them.

If the old man were to wear a collar it would have to be at least 30 inches. I have no idea what size shoes they would need. I was watching the young fellow’s foot one day when he was sitting down. The soles of his feet seemed to be padded like a dog’s foot, and the big toe was longer than the rest and very strong. In mountain climbing all he needed was footing for his big toe. They were very agile. To sit down they turned their knees out and came straight down. To rise they came straight up without help of hands or arms. I don’t think this valley was their permanent home. I think they move from place to place, as food is available in different localities. They might eat meat, but I never saw them eat meat, or do any cooking.

I think this was probably a stopover place and the plants with sweet roots on the mountain side might have been in season this time of the year. They seem to be most interested in them. The roots have a very sweet and satisfying taste. They always seem to do everything for a reason, wasted no time on anything they did not need. When they were not looking for food, the old man and the old lady were resting, but the boy and the girl were always climbing something or some other exercise. A favorite position was to take hold of his feet with his hands and balance on his rump, then bounce forward. The idea seems to be to see how far he could go without his feet or hands touching the ground. Sometimes he made 20 feet.

But what do they want with me? They must understand I cannot stay here indefinitely. I will soon have to make a break for freedom. Not that I was mistreated in any way. One consolation was that the old man was coming closer each day, and was very interested in my snuff. Watching me when I take a pinch of snuff. He seems to think it useless to only put it inside my lips. One morning after I had my breakfast both the old man and the boy came and sat down only ten feet away from me. This morning I made coffee. I had saved up all dry branches I found and I had some dry moss and I used all the labels from cans to start a fire.

I got my coffee pot boiling and it was strong coffee too, and the aroma from boiling coffee was what brought them over. I was sitting eating hard tack with plenty of butter on, and sipping coffee. And it sure tasted good. I was smacking my lips pretending it was better than it really was. I set the can down that was about half full. I intended to warm it up later. I pulled out a full box of snuff, took a big chew. Before I had time to close the box the old man reached for it. I was afraid he would waste it, and only had two more boxes. So I held on to the box intending him to take a pinch like I had just done. Instead he grabbed the box and emptied it in his mouth. Swallowed it in one gulp. Then he licked the box inside with his tongue.

After a few minutes his eyes began to roll over in his head, he was looking straight up. I could see he was sick. Then he grabbed my coffee can that was quite cold by this time, he emptied that in his mouth, grounds and all. That did no good. He stuck his head between his legs and rolled forwards a few times away from me. Then he began to squeal like a stuck pig. I grabbed my rifle. I said to myself, “This is it. If he comes for me I will shoot him plumb between his eyes.” But he started for the spring, he wanted water. I packed my sleeping bag in my pack sack with the few cans I had left. The young fellow ran over to his mother. Then she began to squeal. I started for the opening in the wall — and I just made it. The old lady was right behind me. I fired one shot at the rock over her head.

I guess she had never seen a rifle fired before. She turned and ran inside the wall. I injected another shell in the barrel of my rifle and started downhill, looking back over my shoulder every so often to see if they were coming. I was in a canyon, and good travelling and I made fast time. Must have made three miles in some world record time. I came to a turn in the canyon and I had the sun on my left, that meant I was going south, and the canyon turned west. I decided to climb the ridge ahead of me. I knew that I must have two mountain ridges between me and salt water and by climbing this ridge I would have a good view of this canyon, so I could see if the Sasquatch were coming after me. I had a light pack and was making good time up this hill. I stopped soon after to look back to where I came from, but nobody followed me. As I came over the ridge I could see Mt. Baker, then I knew I was going in the right direction.

I was hungry and tired. I opened my packsack to see what I had to eat. I decided to rest here for a while. I had a good view of the mountain side, and if the old man was coming I had the advantage because I was up above him. To get me he would have to come up a steep hill. And that might not be so easy after stopping a few 30-30 bullets. I had made up my mind this was my last chance, and this would be a fight to the finish … I rested here for two hours. It was 3:00 p.m. when I started down the mountain side. It was nice going, not too steep and not too much underbrush.

When I got near the bottom, I shot a big blue grouse. She was sitting on a windfall, looking right at me, only a hundred feet away. I shot her neck right off.

I made it down the creek at the bottom of this canyon. I felt I was safe now. I made a fire between two big boulders, roasted the grouse. Next morning when I woke up, I was feeling terrible. My feet were sore from dirty socks. My legs were sore, my stomach was upset from that grouse that I ate the night before. I was not too sure I was going to make it up that mountain. I finally made the top, but it took me six hours to get there. It was cloudy, visibility about a mile.

I knew I had to go down hill. After about two hours I got down to the heavy timber and sat down to rest. I could hear a motor running hard at times, then stop. I listened to this for a while and decided the sound was from a gas donkey. Someone was logging in the neighbourhood.

I told them I was a prospector and was lost … I did not like to tell them I had been kidnapped by a Sasquatch, as if I had told them, they would probably have said, he is crazy too.

The following day I went down from this camp on Salmon Arm Branch of Sechelt Inlet. From there I got the Union Boat back to Vancouver. That was my last prospecting trip, and my only experience with what is known as Sasquatches. I know that in 1924 there were four Sasquatches living, it might be only two now. The old man and the old lady might be dead by this time.


Whether or not you believe the story from Albert Ostman, there are numerous other stories from people who have also claimed to either be kidnapped by Sasquatch or – even more disturbing – having intimate relations with one. That’s up next! (Kidnapped By Sasquatch)

Plus… when mine owners cut wages in 1870s Pennsylvania, the Molly Maguires fought back and ultimately won what would become the first labor war in U.S. history… although they had to assassinate a couple dozen people to do it. (Inside The Molly Maguires)

And… there is a scary urban legend from Spain about a bizarre website that offers you the ultimate horror experience. Apparently, the experience can prove to be lethal. (The Blind Maiden) These stories and more when Weird Darkness returns!



Is there a history of human beings being abducted by hairy unknown hominids – aside from Albert Ostman? Yes. Here is a list of a few possible kidnapping incidents, shared by Norwegian cryptozoologist Erik Knatterud:
***Spain, Sienra. Probably about 800 years ago. Baby abduction. An infant boy was stolen from his nanny, but a swift rescue party managed to find the boy being “happily sucking one of the tits of the animal;” [the rescue party] chased away the wild woman and retrieved the baby. The serrana (wild woman) was referred to as a “bear.”
***France, Savoie, the village of Naves. 1602 Female abduction, cited in writing already in 1605. Seventeen-year-old Anthoinette Culet was herding animals when she disappeared. Later the same year three lumberjacks from the village happened to work in the mountains, where one of them noticed a voice from behind a boulder blocking a cave, a voice that insisted to be the abducted Anthoinette Culet. She told them about the ugly but amorous monster with enormous strength obviously stole and brought her baskets of bread, fruit, cheese, linen and thread. That night the creature intruded the village but was ambushed and shot to death. The creature was a “bear,” but it “had a navel like humans and almost looked like a human.”
***Allevard, Dauphine. District of Isère. Late 19th century. Male abduction. The young lumberjack Bourne was about to cross a hill at night to visit his fiancé when he was taken and slung over the shoulders of a hairy giant and brought to a cave with a group of brown longhaired creatures talking a strange language. The biggest hairy man was about 8 feet and “looked almost human” and had long arms and big hands. After several hours Bourne pulled out his pipe which was snatched away. In the following fight over the pipe Bourne managed to escape. Locals called such creatures marfolats. You will note that this story sounds a great deal like the 1924 kidnapping account of Albert Ostman.
***France, Briançon, Haute Alpes. Late 19th century. Male abduction. A man missing for days told that he had been abducted by a hairy forest man (homme des bois) and kept in a cave with his family, a female and two kids. He was fed some berries, but eventually they lost interest in him.
***Spain, Lézignan (Aude). About 1920. Female abduction. A young couple was tending farm animals in the Sierra Morena when the female was taken by an “ape”-like creature when she was washing clothes at a stream. She was kept in a cave and raped, but escaped eventually. The resulting baby girl, Anica known as “the daughter of the orangutan,” had a hairy body, long arms and an ape like mouth. Male wildmen are known as basajaun, or “master of the forest”.
There are also “three cases from Sweden, not really about abduction, but about having [relationships] with hairy females out in the forest at night. Here the wildwomen are called skograa (master of the forest). In Norway there are many local anecdotes about abductions, likely ancient legends.”
The Skograa of Sweden also is known by several other names, one of them is Troll woman. The Norwegian match is Hulder (she who is hidden). About trolls being man sized – trolls actually have only been transformed into smallish gnomes in the last few decennia to fit the tourist trade. The three Swedish stories about forbidden sex with the creatures were dug up in 300 year old court archives.


In the 1870s, the Molly Maguires assassinated 24 mine foremen and supervisors and sent “coffin notices” to scabs during mining strikes. The secret society carried out assaults, arsons, and murders for years before a Pinkerton detective infiltrated the organization to bring them down from the inside.

The Molly Maguires fought for better working conditions in the deadly mines of Pennsylvania. But their violent methods caught up with them in a trial that sent twenty men to the gallows. Were the Molly Maguires vicious murderers or desperate workers fighting for their rights?

The Molly Maguires were a secret society of Irish mine workers. They borrowed their name from a secret society back in Ireland, where members dressed in women’s clothes to disguise themselves.

According to one legend, a widow named Molly Maguire led the Irish protestors in a group called the “Anti-landlord Agitators.” The gang adopted her name as their calling card when fighting against English landowners.

Like the Irish Molly Maguires, the American society fought against injustice – including their treatment in the mines.

The Great Famine drove over a million Irish immigrants to America. In the 19th century, many businesses discriminated against the Irish, even hanging signs saying “Irish need not apply.”

In Pennsylvania’s coal country, many Irish immigrants took jobs in the mines.

The Molly Maguires first appeared during the Civil War. Angry at being drafted into war and frustrated by terrible working conditions, Irish immigrants lashed out at mine officials.

The secret society quieted down in the late 1860s when the mineworkers joined a labor association. The Workingmen’s Benevolent Association (WBA) successfully negotiated higher wages – until Franklin B. Gowen, a railroad man, gained a monopoly over the coal mining industry in Pennsylvania.

Under Gowen’s harsh rule, the Molly Maguires reappeared – and so did their violent methods.

Mine workers faced horrific conditions in the 1870s. Schuylkill County employed 22,500 miners, which included over 5,000 children as young as five.

With few safety regulations, working in the mines took a deadly toll. Owners also wrung profits from the miners by forcing them to live in company-owned housing and shop at company-owned stores.

Many workers ended the month owing money to their employers rather than making any wages.

After an economic depression in 1873, mine owners forced a new contract on the workers. Pay rates dropped by as much as 20%. In response, the miners went on strike.

During the Long Strike of 1875, which stretched on for seven months, the owners and miners battled each other. The Molly Maguires began sending anonymous threats to supervisors.

Pennsylvania’s governor even sent troops to break the strike.

Miners were forced to accept the lower pay – but some turned to violent methods to exact revenge on mine owners.

During the Long Strike of 1875, the WBA fell apart and the miners quickly realized the legal system offered few protections to immigrants and members of the working class. The Molly Maguires rose up to fight for the mineworkers.

The Molly Maguires targeted three groups: mine owners, policemen hired by the owners, and strikebreakers. They threatened scabs who took over their jobs and assaulted mine supervisors.

As the strike dragged on, the coal owners created their own police force to attack the strikers. Known as the “Pennsylvania Cossacks,” the hired enforcers beat and killed miners.

The violence continued so Gowen, president of the Philadelphia and Reading Coal and Iron Company, took more drastic measures.

Gowen responded to the Molly Maguires by calling in the Pinkerton Detective Agency.

Allan Pinkerton, the first private detective in the U.S., was known for his brutal methods against strikers. In the second half of the 19th century, mining and railroad owners often turned to the Pinkertons to act as a private military force.

To undermine the Molly Maguires, Pinkerton sent in an undercover detective. James McParland, an Irish-born detective, spent over two years as an undercover agent in the secret society.

Under the alias James McKenna, McParland joined a local Irish lodge and eventually gained the trust of the Molly Maguires. McParland sent regular reports to the Pinkertons, who used his information to target and kill several miners.

In 1875, the police arrested 60 members of the Molly Maguires, who soon faced trial.

James McParland acted as the star witness during the trials, which lasted from 1875-1877.

But Franklin Gowen also played a central role as the chief prosecutor, even though as the mine owner he had hired the Pinkertons to infiltrate the Molly Maguires.

During the trials, in front of juries with no Irish members, Gowen built a case against the Molly Maguires. Outside the court, Gowen spread pamphlets featuring his courtroom speeches.

The evidence presented in court often fell short of legal requirements. Aside from McParland, most of the evidence was circumstantial or easily refuted. McParland himself faced an accusation of perjury.

Based almost exclusively on McParland’s testimony, the trial sentenced 20 men to death. On June 21, 1877, a day known as Black Thursday, ten members of the secret society faced death together on the gallows.

Before the convicted men faced execution, the Catholic Church excommunicated them, denying the men last rites or a Christian burial.

One Pennsylvania judge criticized the trial. “A private corporation initiated the investigation through a private detective agency. A private police force arrested the alleged defenders, and private attorneys for the coal companies prosecuted them. The state provided only the courtroom and the gallows.”

The mine owners and the miners both turned to violence in the 1870s. Company police fired into union meetings and killed the wife of a union organizer, while the Molly Maguires assassinated mine supervisors.

But only the Molly Maguires faced legal consequences for their actions.

In 1979, the state of Pennsylvania granted a full pardon to John Kehoe, sometimes called the king of the Molly Maguires.


There is a somewhat new urban legend that has been circulating in schools all over Spain. In whispers and rumors, people are talking about a strange website called “The Blind Maiden”. This legend is almost totally unknown outside of Spain, so if you have not heard of it, that is probably why. They say that most of the time, the website is offline and you cannot access it, no matter how hard you try. However, according to the rumor, there are three rules you must obey in order to gain admittance.

1. You must be all alone.

2. You must turn off all the lights in your house.

3. You must go to the website at exactly midnight on a moonless night.

If you satisfy all of these conditions, you will apparently be granted access to The Blind Maiden website.

Once inside, they say your eyes will immediately be flooded by a never-ending montage of shocking screaming faces. The pictures are of boys and girls, their faces are twisted in tremendous fear, their mouths frozen in a silent scream. Their eyes are missing. The pictures are displayed quickly, flashing up onscreen one after the other, with no explanation.

According to the legend, some lines of Spanish text will appear on the screen. Roughly translated, the text reads something like: “This website will take you to a whole new level of horror. A horror that will use all five of your senses. You must be very careful not to click on anything by accident. You will be faced with a real experience of absolute horror. Click the accept button to engage actively in the experience.”

Below the text are two buttons, “Accept” and “Decline”.

At this point you’ll probably be very curious. You’ll probably find yourself tempted to click the “Accept” button. Don’t. If you accept the challenge you will only be apparently taking your life in your hands. Click “Decline” and stay safe.

What happens if you click on “Accept”? To your surprise and horror, you observe on your monitor a sinister

silhouette walking… towards your own home! You want to wake up. You want this to just be a nightmare. You watch as the figure approaches and enters the same room where you are sitting… You will see, on your monitor, your own back … Then you will feel a presence behind you… You will feel a tap on your shoulder… The last thing you see before you die will be the face of the blind maiden, staring mercilessly at you with her horrible empty eye sockets…

According to legend they say the blind maiden will rip out your eyes and take a snapshot of your face so that you will forever be a part of the website’s picture gallery.

Here is a rough English translation of a comment from a Spanish boy who claims to have accessed the Website:

“Blind Maiden or La doncella ciega. Whatever you want to call it, this urban legend is real and I almost suffered the consequences of messing with that crazy site. The story is that there is a webpage which you can only enter if you are totally alone, with all the lights off in your home at exactly midnight. After that, whatever you do, don’t click where it says “Accept the challenge” because when you do this you will probably die… probably within minutes. I didn’t take this advice. I did the opposite and totally accepted the challenge. Right at that moment I clicked the button, everything I saw on the screen became so real. I saw a shadow walking towards a place that seemed to be my home and I saw it walk to where I was. Paralyzed by fear, I could not move a muscle. Then it came to the door and began to open it. Right then I turned around and saw the door behind me opening, and then I see this face that was indescribable, but it had no eyes! Then it came closer and I heard it whispering something I could not understand and this face changed and became gruesome and with an expression of terror I will never forget. I ran with everything I could and I tripped over something on the floor and I hit the edge of my study table and I fell unconscious. It seems she must have thought I was dead because thanks to that I survived. Never again in my life will I play with the supernatural and I’ll never underestimate its power…”

Again it’s supposedly just a legend – but I’ll leave it up to you to test it.


When Weird Darkness returns… Numerous cultures have images of a being tied to nature – simply called “The Green Man”. But how can so many different cultures spanning so many years have almost the exact same representation of him? (Digging Into The Roots of the Green Man)

But first…The Azores island chain in the Atlantic is said by sailors to be the site of strange and disturbing events. Some are so spooked by the waters surrounding these islands that they refuse to go there. That story is up next! (Vanishings Around the Azores)



The Azores is a chain of islands in the Atlantic Ocean, about eight hundred miles west of Portugal.

Among sailors, this region is considered a dangerous place that is under control of unknown forces.

Some are even afraid to cross these waters. However, it is not superstition that is the cause of peoples’ fear, but strange and disturbing events that occurred there.

When people associate a place with unpleasant events, they tend to avoid it, but sometimes it’s not always possible.

There are many documented cases of people who mysteriously vanished into thin air. Science can often shed light on several strange vanishings, but there are also events that cannot be easily explained.

We would be ignorant if we couldn’t admit there are many aspects of the physical world we are unfamiliar with and this is also why we often find ourselves interested in the unknown. As Albert Einstein once said, “the most beautiful thing we can experience is the mysterious. It is the source of all true art and science. He to whom the emotion is a stranger, who can no longer pause to wonder and stand wrapped in awe, is as good as dead —his eyes are closed. “

This topic is a phenomenon that can hardly be called a coincidence.

During the course of eleven days, several boats were found drifting in the Azores, a region that even today remains shrouded in mystery.

The weather was calm, and the boats were in excellent condition, but without a single person aboard!

What happened to the crew? It was as if they had mysteriously vanished from the Earth.

During one of the last transmissions, one of the persons who disappeared stated he couldn’t help himself because he was under the influence of the “cosmic brain”. What could this mean? Was the crew member delusional or did some unknown force affect his way of thinking?

On June 30, 1969, the British ship Maple Bank discovered a sixty-foot unidentified yacht floating upside down.

Little attention was paid to the incident. It seemed there was no reason to suspect something out of the ordinary had taken place.

A few days later, on July 4, another British ship discovered a second unidentified yacht. There was no person aboard, but the yacht was still under way with its automatic rudder in operation.

It did not take long before the strange incident was reported. Two days later, on July 6, the Golar Frost, a Liberian ship found the Vagabond. The yacht belonged to the sailor William Wallin, but he was not on board.

In fact, once again the yacht was empty.

Three yachts with no crew were found in one week. It sounds a little too odd to be a coincidence and yet this was just the beginning of the mystery.

On July 8, the British tanker Helisoma came across a forty-foot yacht. There was no sign of the crew. On July 10, the Teignmouth Electron was discovered floating empty. The yacht belonged to Donald C. Crowhurst.

In eleven days, five empty yachts were found in the Azores.

What did all these peculiar incidents have in common? How can we explain these strange disappearances that took place in the Azores region back in 1969?

It would be wrong to blame the weather because the weather conditions were excellent at that time of year. So, what happened to the crew?

Both William Wallin and Donald C. Crowhurst were experienced sailors. The crew of the three other yachts was unidentified.

The case of Donald C. Crowhurst is somewhat different, but it might offer some clues to the disappearances.

Crowhurst participated in a race around the world sponsored by the London Sunday Times. He was one of the favorites.

His ego prevented him from accepting the thought of losing so he perpetrated a hoax.

He sailed to a point seven hundred miles west of the Azores and stayed there. Then, he sent periodic messages to the BBC, describing his progress and whereabouts. He told that he had just rounded the Cape Horn, then the Cape of Good Hope and later he declared that he was on his way back to England. Crowhurst managed to deceive the press for a long time, but everything ends at some point and so did his deception.

On June 24, 1969, Crowhurst received a message that he would be met at the Islands of Scilly and interviewed by the BBC. A welcome committee was waiting for him.

Crowhurst must have understood that he had lost his game. He decided not to send any more message, but he wrote the truth in his logbook. What happened next remains unclear.

Crowhurst stayed on his yacht in the Azores. His log indicated that “something” was keeping him there.

Crowhurst spoke of God and a “world system” in which he was under control of a cosmic brain. On June 30, he finished by saying that he had made up his mind to die. He was at peace now when the truth had been revealed. When his yacht was discovered on July 10, Crowhurst was not aboard the boat. His body was never found.

What did Crowhurst mean when he said that he was under the control of a cosmic brain?

Were these the words spoken by a delusional man or was he under the influence of some unknown external force that somehow prevented him from leaving the region?

The Azores mystery lacks a rational explanation. If all the crew members had drowned, their bodies should have been discovered, but no corpse was ever found.

The question remains – what happened to the crew? Why was no-one aboard the yachts?

There are many stories of people who vanished mysteriously without any trace.

In the recent years, more and more scientists have proposed parallel universes as a solution to many unsolved mysteries.

Our world can be surrounded by a number of parallel worlds that exist next to our own and are invisible to the naked eye. These parallel worlds are just as real as our own world. It is possible that there is specific location near the Azores that serve as an invisible opening leading to another dimension.

Perhaps the crew of the yachts disappeared from our world and entered a parallel universe governed by dimensions and physical laws unknown to us.

After all, there are other laws and forces at work in the universe, operating on a deeper level than the one we are currently aware of…

What really happened near the Azores in 1969 is a mystery that remains unexplained.



An enigma spanning thousands of years, the Green Man is a symbol of mysterious origin and history.  Permeating various religious faiths and cultures, the Green Man has survived countless transformations and cultural diversities, enduring in the same relative physical form to this day.  Although specifics about his beginnings and his worship are not fully known, due in large part to how far back and to what initial cultures he can be traced to, it is a testament to the widespread reach of his character that he is still remembered and worshipped to this day.

The Green Man is most highly believed to have begun as a pre-Christian entity, a spirit of nature personified as a man.  His earliest images have been dated long before the coming of the Christian religion, depictions dating back before the days of the Roman Empire.  However, it is with the coming of the empire that his images are noted as spanning religions, as he has been found both within the empire and at its borders, and then similar versions in other far reaching cultures such as India. Despite the range in locations of artifacts of the Green Man, he is most often associated with the society of the Celts, sequestered particularly in today’s Britain and France, because of the high number of images found in these regions and the stylized way in which he has been portrayed.

The Green Man is almost always depicted as a man’s face, usually ranging from middle aged to elderly, appearing out of the wild of forest trappings.  His face is always encompassed by leaves, vines, and flowers, seeming to be literally born from the natural world.  However, the slight variations on his images come from the exact way in which the natural world explodes around him.  It is common for the Green Man to merely be surrounded by the greenery, hence the name ‘The Green Man’, but there have been archaeological finds of images in which the leaves and vines emanate from his mouth, ears, and other facial orifices, as well as depictions of his face made up completely of nature—facial lines carefully crafted as vines with his skin the very leaves themselves.

Because of these depictions, the Green Man is believed to have been intended as a symbol of growth and rebirth, the eternal seasonal cycle of the coming of spring and the life of Man.  This association stems from the pre-Christian notion that Man was born from nature, as evidenced by various mythological accounts of the way in which the world began, and the idea that Man is directly tied to the fate of nature.  It is the natural changing of seasons that presents the passage of time that ages Man, thus by depicting the Green Man in such a way that overwhelmingly illustrates Man’s relationship with nature highlights the idea to worshippers that one cannot survive without the other.  This union with nature and mutual reliance upon one another is evidenced historically and archaeologically through Man’s cultivation and development of the natural world, and the fruits nature thereby provided.  Man was predominately reliant on nature until recent centuries, so the Green Man as an expression of this close of a relationship also seems likely and a fairly powerful message.

Along with rebirth and reliance, there is one more powerful affiliation the images of the Green Man undoubtedly indicate.  With the cycles of the year comes the end of the year; with the cycles of life comes the end of life; and with the excessive use of nature comes the eventual, end of nature.  The Green Man’s other important, powerful affiliation, then, is that of death and of endings.  A fair amount of images of the Green Man have been found on graves, his face an empty skull rather than flourishing man, once again made out of or exploding with greenery.  Though there is no physical face, archaeologists and art historians have expressed widespread belief that this is another mask of the Green Man, linked—as stated above—by the logical cycle of Man.  What makes the Green Man green, after all, is the signs of nature that espouse from him—whether it is coming out of his face or designing his face.  Thereby these skull and cross-bone depictions can logically be linked to this pre-Christian entity.

The symbol of the Green Man can be summarized in the three R’s—rebirth, reliance, and ruin.  Archaeological records link the Green Man to these three notions most evidently because of the three most important moments of time they represent, whether it is the life and death of nature, man, or the two affecting one another.  It should be understood that much of what is known about the Green Man is speculation, as mythological records are not utilized as hard evidence but rather as examples of the belief system of pre-existing cultures; nevertheless, these speculations are highly likely.


Up next on Weird Darkness… in 1898, reports of a brutal killing surfaced in Ontario, Canada… and it was only then that the settlers finally began to believe what the local Algonquin tribe had been telling them about the Wendigo. (Horror of the Wendigo)



Until reports of a murder in Cat Lake, Ont., in 1898 surfaced in Winnipeg, few settlers knew about the Wendigo, the worst kind of evil spirit in Algonquin folklore.
To the ancient Algonquin (which includes Cree, Ojibway and Blackfeet) of old, Windigo was known by many names such as Chenoo, Atchen, Witiku, and Kewok.
In January, Manitoba Provincial Police officers arrested two members of the village of no-treaty Cree at Lac Seul for killing their chief, Ahwahsakahmig.
The chief claimed he’d been invaded by Wendigo and begged four villagers to shoot him.
“Ahwahsakahmig lifted his right arm and showed us where to shoot,” said one of the men through an interpreter.
The chief’s body was taken to the edge of the village, covered with brush, and destroyed by fire. The two men who compiled with his wishes were later convicted of manslaughter and sentenced to four months in jail.
Back then, the justice system in northwestern Ontario was the responsibility of Manitoba.
The sacred legends of the Sandy Lake Cree — as told by Carl Ray and James Steven — claim “the demented Wendigo is the most horrible creature in the land of the Cree and Ojibway” Legend claims a Cree village at Sandy Lake Ghost Post was destroyed by fire caused by a Wendigo which was once a normal human who was taken over by “a savage cannibalistic spirit. When the ugly creature attacks, it shows men no mercy. This monster will kill and devour its own family members to satisfy its lust for human flesh.” The first report of a Wendigo in Manitoba occurred at Norway House in 1913, when a young Cree woman became delirious and began speaking in a language unknown to her family and friends.
According to legend, the Cree people hanged the woman from a tree and buried her body under a pile of rocks to prevent the Wendigo from escaping and invading other villagers.
The story ran rampant through the fur trade, but despite a long investigation, no charges were laid by the RCMP.
At Lac la Ronge in northern Saskatchewan, an insane man is said to have beaten his wife and child to death with a club. The village voted to stake the man, naked, in the bush to be stung to death by mosquitoes.
To make sure Wendigo did not remain, the village was burned and the people moved.
Mounties also received word that a father compelled his daughter to chop off his head after he claimed to have been invaded by Wendigo.
The legend claimed the father sharpened his axe, took his daughter into the woods and commanded her to cut off his head. When she refused, she was threatened with death.
“If you don’t kill me, I shall kill all of you. A Wendigo has come into me and I must do what he tells me. He tells me that you must kill me to stop me from killing you and your brothers and sisters,” the man is said to have told his daughter.
When the man placed his neck across a log, the daughter chopped off his head.
The demented man was buried with his head by his side. In order to trap the Wendigo, the log used as a chopping block was set on top of the grave and covered with stones.
Other legends claim the bodies of people invaded by Wendigo were chopped into pieces because of the belief that if the evil spirit was abused, it might think twice about entering another human.
The last reported Wendigo “sighting” in Manitoba occurred in January 1934 at Lac Brochet, 325 miles north of The Pas.
The RCMP dispatched Sgt. Percy Rose to investigate after reports that a man had been left outside to freeze to death.
The story goes that the victim became violent and abused his fellow trappers as they returned to base camp located about 40 miles north of Reindeer Lake. Mounties were told that the man became so violent that his companions were forced to tie the man to his sled for the trip home.
The party was so afraid the man had been invaded by a Wendigo, they left him tied to his sled overnight and he froze to death.
RCMP also heard the leaders of the party left the demented man tied to his sled because they feared Wendigo would enter the shelter and invade their bodies.
No reports of charges could be found.
There have been no recent sighting of a Wendigo, but that doesn’t mean one is not ready to take on the form of a half-beast, half-man and again begin to feast on human flesh and blood.


Thanks for listening (and be sure to stick around for the bloopers at the end)! If you like the show, please share it with someone you know who loves the paranormal or strange stories, true crime, monsters, or unsolved mysteries like you do! You can email me anytime with your questions or comments at darren@weirddarkness.com. WeirdDarkness.com is also where you can find information on any of the sponsors you heard about during the show, find all of my social media, listen to audiobooks I’ve narrated, sign up for the email newsletter, find other podcasts that I host including “Church of the Undead”, visit the store for Weird Darkness merchandise, and more. WeirdDarkness.com is also where you can find the Hope in the Darkness page if you or someone you know is struggling with depression or dark thoughts. Also on the website, if you have a true paranormal or creepy tale to tell, you can click on TELL YOUR STORY. You can find all of that and more at WeirdDarkness.com.

All stories on Weird Darkness are purported to be true unless stated otherwise, and you can find links to the stories or the authors in the show notes.

“Vanishings Around the Azores” by Ellen Lloyd for Ancient Pages
“Kidnapped By Sasquatch” by Loren Coleman for Cryptomundo
“The Albert Ostman Bigfoot Abduction” by John Green from the book “Sasquatch: The Apes Among Us”
“Horror of the Wendigo” was posted at CNEWS
“The Blind Maiden” by Christina Skelton
“Inside The Molly Maguires” by Genevieve Carlton for All That’s Interesting
“Digging Into The Roots of the Green Man” by Riley Winters for Ancient Origins

WeirdDarkness® is a registered trademark. Copyright, Weird Darkness.

Now that we’re coming out of the dark, I’ll leave you with a little light… “For the LORD watches over the way of the righteous, but the way of the wicked leads to destruction.” – Psalm 1:6

And a final thought… “I salute those people who smile despite all of their problems.” – Unknown

I’m Darren Marlar. Thanks for joining me in the Weird Darkness.



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