Sept. 3, 2025
5 Real Skinwalker Encounters That Will Haunt You
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They walk like us. Talk like us. But they’re not us.
In this episode of The Cryptid Files, we delve into terrifying real-life encounters with Skinwalkers, shape-shifting entities feared in Native American folklore.
From desert roads to dense forests, these firsthand accounts reveal the chilling truth: sometimes, the thing outside your window knows your name.
If you've ever felt watched in the woods… you’re not alone.
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You're listening to The Cryptid Files, a podcast that investigates legends, creatures, and whispers that linger just beyond the edge of the unknown. I'm Leon Layton.
Tonight's case takes us far from the winding trails of the UK and into the haunted deserts of the American Southwest — a place where stories aren't just told, they're inherited. Stories of shapeshifters… of witches who wear the skins of animals… of creatures that aren’t what they seem.
This is the world of the Skinwalker — one of the most feared entities in Native American lore. And tonight, we’re opening a file most would rather keep shut.
Story One: The Roar in Holbrook – by Daniel Mendoza
Daniel was a long-haul trucker working across Arizona and New Mexico. One night in 2010, near Holbrook, Arizona — right by the Navajo Nation — he stopped early at a roadside motel. That’s when he noticed his truck had been disturbed. Maps scattered, glovebox open, nothing stolen… just searched.
Then he heard a roar — metal on gravel, rage in sound. From the trees emerged something monstrous: a figure with distorted limbs, furred legs, and glowing ember eyes. It screamed — a sound that seemed to come from inside his bones. He ran and hid in the motel bathroom. Outside, slow, heavy footsteps circled. At dawn, he found deep claw marks in the gravel near his tire.
The motel clerk? He didn’t question it — just said: “You shouldn’t have parked near the edge.”
Story Two: The Voices at Wheatfield Lake – by Arlene
Arlene, a Navajo woman, took her nieces camping at Wheatfield Lake, east of Tuba City. The night started peaceful… until the silence hit. Then came footsteps, voices — mimicking her nieces.
“Aunt Arlene… it’s me. I’m lost.”
But both girls were right beside her.
Voices echoed from the darkness — asking to sit by the fire, asking to be let in. Laughter followed, raspy, inhuman. Something clawed the tent.
She used sacred ash, cedar bark, and corn pollen — tools her grandmother had given her. They survived the night, but Arlene woke later with three deep scratches on her shoulder and a bone shard embedded in her skin. The medicine man said: “It marked you… but the protection held.”
Story Three: The Pale One on Three Pine Road – by Caleb
Caleb, from outside Vernal, Utah, drove home late one night in 2009. On a quiet rural road, he saw something blocking his path: a pale, thin figure with an unnatural body. When it turned, its face was human-like but wrong — black eyes, stretched features, yellow teeth.
It moved toward him, jerking forward like it was glitching. He sped off, but it followed on all fours, mockingly keeping pace with his truck. When he finally reached home, his mother simply said: “You saw it, didn’t you?”
That night, something knocked on his second-story window.
Story Four: It Walked on Two Legs – by Mason
Mason and his cousin Joe were hunting deep in New Mexico’s back country in 2021. On their second night, silence fell — total, unnatural quiet. Then came footsteps… and a voice mimicking Joe from outside the tent: “Joe, come out here. Bring your light.”
But Joe was beside him.
Then came laughter — distorted, not quite human. At dawn, they found deep scratches on nearby trees and a muddy handprint with four long fingers… no thumb.
They fled. Neither has returned.
Story Five: The Dirt Beneath the Barn – by Jack
Jack inherited his grandfather’s remote Arizona ranch in 2019. Locals warned him — “Don’t leave that barn alone.” While repairing it, he found bones under the floor: small, arranged in spirals, tied with hair.
That night, he heard footsteps, tapping on windows… and a voice that sounded like his mother — who had passed years before.
Under the floor he later found a black stone slab with strange symbols — and a photo of his grandfather beside a tall, distorted figure.
He sold the ranch, but says he still dreams of the barn door creaking open… and something crawling out.
If you’ve experienced something like these encounters, visit TheCryptidFilesPodcast.com and click “Submit Your Sighting.” Every story matters — and yours might be the next to make it into the files.
Thanks for listening to The Cryptid Files. New episodes drop every Thursday — follow, rate, and review the show on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you're listening.
Tonight's case takes us far from the winding trails of the UK and into the haunted deserts of the American Southwest — a place where stories aren't just told, they're inherited. Stories of shapeshifters… of witches who wear the skins of animals… of creatures that aren’t what they seem.
This is the world of the Skinwalker — one of the most feared entities in Native American lore. And tonight, we’re opening a file most would rather keep shut.
Story One: The Roar in Holbrook – by Daniel Mendoza
Daniel was a long-haul trucker working across Arizona and New Mexico. One night in 2010, near Holbrook, Arizona — right by the Navajo Nation — he stopped early at a roadside motel. That’s when he noticed his truck had been disturbed. Maps scattered, glovebox open, nothing stolen… just searched.
Then he heard a roar — metal on gravel, rage in sound. From the trees emerged something monstrous: a figure with distorted limbs, furred legs, and glowing ember eyes. It screamed — a sound that seemed to come from inside his bones. He ran and hid in the motel bathroom. Outside, slow, heavy footsteps circled. At dawn, he found deep claw marks in the gravel near his tire.
The motel clerk? He didn’t question it — just said: “You shouldn’t have parked near the edge.”
Story Two: The Voices at Wheatfield Lake – by Arlene
Arlene, a Navajo woman, took her nieces camping at Wheatfield Lake, east of Tuba City. The night started peaceful… until the silence hit. Then came footsteps, voices — mimicking her nieces.
“Aunt Arlene… it’s me. I’m lost.”
But both girls were right beside her.
Voices echoed from the darkness — asking to sit by the fire, asking to be let in. Laughter followed, raspy, inhuman. Something clawed the tent.
She used sacred ash, cedar bark, and corn pollen — tools her grandmother had given her. They survived the night, but Arlene woke later with three deep scratches on her shoulder and a bone shard embedded in her skin. The medicine man said: “It marked you… but the protection held.”
Story Three: The Pale One on Three Pine Road – by Caleb
Caleb, from outside Vernal, Utah, drove home late one night in 2009. On a quiet rural road, he saw something blocking his path: a pale, thin figure with an unnatural body. When it turned, its face was human-like but wrong — black eyes, stretched features, yellow teeth.
It moved toward him, jerking forward like it was glitching. He sped off, but it followed on all fours, mockingly keeping pace with his truck. When he finally reached home, his mother simply said: “You saw it, didn’t you?”
That night, something knocked on his second-story window.
Story Four: It Walked on Two Legs – by Mason
Mason and his cousin Joe were hunting deep in New Mexico’s back country in 2021. On their second night, silence fell — total, unnatural quiet. Then came footsteps… and a voice mimicking Joe from outside the tent: “Joe, come out here. Bring your light.”
But Joe was beside him.
Then came laughter — distorted, not quite human. At dawn, they found deep scratches on nearby trees and a muddy handprint with four long fingers… no thumb.
They fled. Neither has returned.
Story Five: The Dirt Beneath the Barn – by Jack
Jack inherited his grandfather’s remote Arizona ranch in 2019. Locals warned him — “Don’t leave that barn alone.” While repairing it, he found bones under the floor: small, arranged in spirals, tied with hair.
That night, he heard footsteps, tapping on windows… and a voice that sounded like his mother — who had passed years before.
Under the floor he later found a black stone slab with strange symbols — and a photo of his grandfather beside a tall, distorted figure.
He sold the ranch, but says he still dreams of the barn door creaking open… and something crawling out.
If you’ve experienced something like these encounters, visit TheCryptidFilesPodcast.com and click “Submit Your Sighting.” Every story matters — and yours might be the next to make it into the files.
Thanks for listening to The Cryptid Files. New episodes drop every Thursday — follow, rate, and review the show on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you're listening.