After an exciting month of scary story reading, we officially have a winner of TAY Scary Story Contest! This pizza goes to


Thank you everyone who participated, both submitting and voting.

Read the winning entry and the runner up below :)

ETA: Incidentally, the initial rules stated that I would then choose my own winner who super spooped me the most. And THAT pizza goes to.......Sal!!!!


I love urban legends, particularly scary stories that supposedly happened to someone. Usually they come from the friend of a friend. However, this story was relayed to me first hand, directly from the person it happened to.


There are supposedly multiple supernatural presences west of my hometown in Box Elder County, Utah. I’ve heard many stories of ghosts, but this was something different. As best as I can tell, from the description and my research into it, this is a story of a skinwalker.

When I started my career in HR, I worked for a DOT regulated company. The DOT requires that if a driver has more than a certain number of hours or miles on the road they need to take a rest break for at least another amount of time (I believe it’s 6 hours rest for every sixteen hours on the road- it’s been a few years).

When I’m training a new driver, I train him on our policy for “sleeper berths” and he tells me “Oh yeah, I know. But there’s one place I’ll never stop again.”


He describes a small pull off on the freeway between Burley, ID, and Tremonton, UT, which is a whole lot of nothing. The only town of note between the two cities (which are already small) is Snowville, UT, which MAYBE has a population of 1,000. It’s the middle of the night, and he describes an overcast sky, completely devoid of stars or the moon. He’s planning on stopping in Tremonton for the night, but realized he needed to take at least an hour nap before driving the rest of the way into town.

He pulled off, stripped down to his boxers and t-shirt, locked the doors and climbed into the sleeper. He laid down and fell asleep pretty quickly. He hadn’t been asleep long when he’s woken up by a strange sound.




He sat straight up. For a minute he didn’t want to look. The sound continued.




Something was lifting the windshield wiper and letting it go, letting it slap against the glass. He turned to see a massive black form crouching on the hood, and for a moment he could see its red eyes flash. It’s right then that realizes that he hears something else- the shuffling sound of multiple sets of feet walking around the truck and trailer in the gravel outside. The dark figure vanishes.


He heard a growling noise outside before something starts to scratch at the door. Whatever it was, it was trying to get in. The sound turned into a metallic rattling. It had found the handle and was now trying desperately to open the door. After another couple minutes of clawing at the door and the handle, it stopped. He could still hear the growling and shuffling outside. Then it stopped.

Then the entire truck started shaking violently, while inhuman noises started outside.

He jumped into the driver’s seat in his underwear and barefoot, started the truck, shifted into gear, and hit the gas, rocketing away as quickly as he could. He made it the rest of the way to Tremonton without any trouble, but wasn’t able to sleep the rest of the night.


The next morning, he walked around the truck and found scratches on the door.

Whatever it was, it was too big to be anything native to the area… including people.



I was always a frail child. I spent so much time at the doctors that I got new drugs as they came out to deal with my illnesses. You know it’s bad when you can say, “I remember when that came out and needed a prescription for that!” before you even hit middle school.

I had always wanted to be an active child, but even trying to run would send me panting to my inhaler and nigh passing out; each illness required a call to the doctors personal number and a few times it was serious enough where the ER began to recognize me. It always felt as if there was some dark and foreboding entity just hanging by the edges, biding it’s time for the one time my inhaler wasn’t nearby or there was a traffic jam on the way to the hospital.

One time it almost happened. I came down with pneumonia, and my fever rose to dangerous levels to the point where I was more unconscious and hanging on than alive. There were brief flashes of lights, dulled voices, street lights, hospital curtains, lab coats, noise, beeping machines, and definitely crying. But it was no more than a few seconds of all of that and never all of my senses working at once.


I don’t know how long I was in the hospital and unconscious, but there were two moments that I remember vividly.

The first I remember waking up and hearing the doctor talking. My eyes were still closed and I was physically tired so I just laid there. I have no clue what he was saying, but all of a sudden I was afraid.

Have you ever gone to a zoo or seen a large predatory animal in person? Have you ever made eye contact with them? True eye contact where you suddenly realize it is looking at you not as a person, but as prey. That moment, where for a second the glass, fence, or wall disappear and that tiny mammal from which you evolved whimpers in acknowledgement. It is a primordial fear, and our response in that fleeting moment is fight or flight.

That was the fear I was feeling.



I screamed. I kicked. I punched. I flailed at every direction possible. With my eyes closed cause I knew if I opened them it was over.

“Mijo! Que pasa?! Digame! Tell me what is wrong!!!”
“It’s just us! It’s just us Jorge! Doctor I’ll help you hold him down just help him!”

There was more shouting, machines chiming loudly, and yet I still kicked and screamed. I was not losing this fight. Heaven and hell be damned.

I don’t know what they did, but they held me down, at least three or four sets of hands while I still was shouting and fighting. I am sure they gave me something because I began to slip into the darkness once again, and all I could hear was my mother’s sobs as I slipped into unconsciousness.


I woke up either hours or days later. I have no idea. This time though I opened my eyes. It was night. There was the steady ‘beep...beep...beep’ of the EKG and a few small lights from the machines. Someone had left the door slightly ajar and a sliver of light entered through the crack and slightly lit up the chair next to it.

There was a man sitting there. He was too tall to be my father or the family friend. He was sitting with both of his arms on the arm rests, slouched back into the chair with his legs open wide taking up a lot of room. Even though there was light from the door, he was black. I could make out his figure but he might as well been a black hole because he just absorbed the light. When I looked at him, I saw his head turn as if to acknowledge my look.

He didn’t say a word. Just sat there and looked at me. Quietly.

I rolled my head away from him and promptly went back to sleep.

Years later, talking to my mother about the entire experience, she says that it was just her and my father waiting at the hospital, but they were always together in my room or just outside it and they never left the other alone in the room. But I saw him and he saw me, and I know that we will see each other again.