I saw and was chased by a humanoid…something in the woods outside my childhood home.
This was rural northern Wisconsin and I was 14. Up until that day I had zero fear of the woods. I spent most of my time out there exploring and feared nothing.
My parents had a lousy marriage and fought a lot and I felt more at home outside than in the house. On hot nights, I’d take a sleeping bag and sleep on the roof of an old shack on our property.
I saw bears, I saw wolves. They were always more afraid of me than me them. I didn’t believe in ghosts, Bigfoot, demons, or even God. I only got lost out there once when dark fell sooner than I expected. I stayed calm, found the north star, and knew that if I continued south I’d eventually come across the old railroad tracks near my house. Even the thought of spending the night out there didn’t bother me, the thought of my mom’s rage when I didn’t come home did.