BIGFOOT HIT BY TRAIN? Huge CREATURE resembling BIGFOOT was STRUCK!!
The Night Train
Chapter One: Shadows on the Rails
Daniel Hayes eased himself into the cracked vinyl seat of locomotive engine 447, his hands moving instinctively over the familiar controls. After nearly two decades running freight and passenger trains through Montana’s wildest country, he could navigate these rails blindfolded. The graveyard shift was dreaded by most, but Daniel cherished the solitude—the way moonlight transformed the harsh landscape into something sacred, untouched, despite the steel rails cutting through its heart. Tonight, as he worked through his pre-departure checklist, Daniel’s mind wandered to the strange reports circulating among the crew. Ranchers whispered about entire herds vanishing overnight, not a single track left behind. Hikers stumbled out of the backcountry with wild tales of something massive moving through the trees, walking upright but far too large to be human. The stories were growing, persistent, and Daniel—practical, grounded in the realities of diesel engines and physics—tried to dismiss them. Bears, maybe. Human imagination, surely. But tonight, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.
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A crackle from the radio pulled him back. Tommy Watkins, the night dispatcher, cleared him for departure, warning of a storm moving in from the northwest. Daniel acknowledged, feeling the engine’s deep vibration as it rumbled to life. The train began its journey into darkness, headlights carving a tunnel through the night, the endless ribbon of track stretching into the wilderness. As speed built, Daniel settled into the rhythm of the rails—the meditation of click-clack wheels, the sway of the cab, the landscape flowing past in a stream of shadow and silver. For an hour, nothing but the steady hum of motion and mundane thoughts. Then, at the edge of the headlight beam, something moved—large, fast, darting between trees parallel to the tracks. Daniel eased back on the throttle, eyes scanning the tree line. Probably just an elk, he told himself, but unease crept in. The forest felt darker, more oppressive. The hair on his neck stood up.
Chapter Two: The Eyes in the Dark
Static burst from the radio, making Daniel jump. Through the interference, a stressed voice from another train came through: “Something on the tracks. Massive. Can anyone confirm?” The transmission dissolved into static. Daniel called dispatch, and after a long pause, Tommy’s voice returned, edged with uncertainty. Another train, forty miles ahead, had reported an obstruction. Before Daniel could reply, a sound cut through the night—raw, primal, part scream, part roar, echoing off the mountains. It reverberated in Daniel’s chest, making his teeth ache. He called dispatch again, voice shaking. Tommy confirmed: multiple reports of unusual activity along the route. “Proceed with extreme caution. Report anything unusual.”
Daniel’s mouth went dry. He’d seen bears, elk, even avalanches, but never heard that tone from dispatch—the edge of fear. As if on cue, the trees to his left exploded with movement. Something massive crashed through the undergrowth, keeping pace with the train, moving with impossible speed and fluidity. For a moment, Daniel saw eyes—amber, reflecting the train’s lights, set impossibly high off the ground. They locked onto him with deliberate intent, sending a surge of primal fear through his body. Then the thing vanished into the shadows. Daniel tried to rationalize—a bear on its hind legs, maybe. But bears didn’t move like that, and those eyes… there was intelligence there, something almost human.
The train rounded a curve, and in the headlights, a figure appeared directly on the tracks. Over eight feet tall, matted brown fur, arms hanging below its knees, a face both ape and human, and those same amber eyes glowing with malevolent awareness. It stood still, watching the train bear down on it. Daniel’s training kicked in—he slammed the emergency brake, the screech of metal and sparks filling the air. But it was too late. At the last second, the creature leaped, soaring over the engine with impossible grace, landing on the roof. The locomotive shuddered violently as something massive moved overhead. Adrenaline surged; Daniel grabbed the radio, calling mayday. Only static answered. The radio was dead, or jammed, or something about the creature was interfering with signals.
Chapter Three: The Predator Revealed
A horrifying screech of tearing metal filled the cabin. Razor-sharp claws punched through the roof, missing Daniel’s head by inches. The stench that flooded in was unbearable—a mix of wet fur, rotting meat, and something worse. Daniel’s instincts screamed at him to run, but he couldn’t abandon the train. There were twelve passengers in the cars behind him, expecting nothing more than a boring overnight journey. They had no idea of the horror above them. Suddenly, the radio crackled back to life—fragments of panicked voices, reports of dead livestock, missing hikers, attacks along the line. The creature had been busy, hunting, killing, and now it was on his train.
A thunderous impact from above jolted Daniel. The collision detection system blared a warning—danger ahead. In the headlights, a mangled elk carcass sprawled across the rails, torn apart and deliberately placed as an obstacle. Daniel had seconds to decide. Stopping would give the creature time to attack; derailing would kill everyone. He chose speed, plowing through the carcass. The train shuddered, and from above came a roar of pure rage. The creature’s trap had failed, and its anger was palpable.
Daniel recalled legends—Bigfoot, guardian of the forest, elusive and shy. But this was no gentle guardian. This was a predator, intelligent, ruthless, and Daniel and his passengers were its prey. The radio crackled again: “Do not engage. Proceed to the nearest station.” Security personnel would be waiting. Daniel almost laughed. What could they do against this thing? He called for help, but a new sound cut him off—tearing metal from behind, toward the passenger cars. A woman’s scream pierced the night, followed by others—a chorus of panic and fear.
Chapter Four: Sacrifice and Survival
Warning lights erupted across the control panel. The rear cars swayed dangerously as the creature moved along the outside of the train, using service handholds to propel itself from car to car. Daniel watched in horror as it smashed a window, reaching inside with impossible strength. The monster began tearing the car apart. Daniel knew he couldn’t save everyone. He could give some a chance. His hand moved to the emergency decoupling lever. If he separated the rear cars, he’d condemn those passengers to face the creature alone, but if he didn’t, it might kill everyone. The needs of the many outweighed the few. With a scream cut short behind him, Daniel pulled the lever. The locomotive and front cars lurched free, speeding away as screams faded into the distance.
He pushed the throttle, demanding every ounce of power, racing toward the next station. He didn’t look back. If he saw what he’d left behind, he might lose his grip on sanity. Minutes stretched into eternity. Every shadow hid a lurking monster. Gradually, the screams faded, swallowed by distance. Just as Daniel dared to hope, heavy footsteps echoed through the remaining cars, moving closer. The cabin door, locked earlier, was torn away by a massive fist. The stench intensified, and Daniel pressed himself against the control panel, futilely recoiling.
The creature’s head appeared in the doorway—a horrifying blend of human and ape, deep-set eyes gleaming with intelligence. It smiled, a cruel expression, savoring the moment. Daniel grabbed the fire extinguisher, swinging it with desperate strength, connecting with the creature’s head. It stumbled, surprised, and Daniel slammed the emergency broadcast button, sending a piercing alarm through the night. The creature roared, lunging, grabbing Daniel’s ankle with crushing force. Daniel kicked, twisted, and finally broke free, scrambling for the extinguisher again. He sprayed foam into the creature’s face, buying precious seconds to escape through the destroyed doorway.
Chapter Five: The Hunt in the Wilderness
Daniel burst into the passenger car, bleeding and wild-eyed. He ordered everyone to move to the front, barricade the door. Grabbing the emergency kit, he found a tranquilizer gun—his only hope. He loaded it, ushered the last passengers forward, and prepared to face the monster. Seconds stretched into eternity. The creature filled the doorway, ducking low, its fur matted with blood. Daniel fired a dart—center mass. It hit, but the beast plucked it out, examining it with curiosity. Daniel emptied the gun, dart after dart, but the creature barely noticed. With a roar, it charged. Daniel dove aside, rolling, as claws swept through the space he’d just occupied.
Desperate, he lunged for the emergency window release, blowing out the reinforced glass. The rush of wind was deafening, but Daniel didn’t hesitate. He threw himself through the opening into the night, tumbling down a steep embankment, rocks and branches tearing at his skin. He came to rest against a log, vision swimming, ears ringing. Above, the monster appeared in the broken window, watching. Then it leaped from the moving train, landing on its feet twenty yards away. Terror gave Daniel strength. He scrambled into the forest, crashing through undergrowth as the creature gave chase, each footfall vibrating through the ground.
Daniel knew he couldn’t outrun it forever. Suddenly, the ground disappeared beneath his feet, and he tumbled down a steep slope, coming to rest near a stream. The creature was descending, taking its time. Daniel crawled to the water, plunging in, letting the current carry him away. As he was swept downstream, he caught a last glimpse of the monster watching him, those intelligent eyes tracking his progress. This wasn’t over.
Chapter Six: The Cave of Secrets
Daniel dragged himself from the water, shivering violently. The forest was ominously quiet. He pressed on, following the stream, clinging to the hope that it would lead to civilization. Thoughts of the dead haunted him—the passengers he’d sacrificed, the ones who might have survived. A distant howl cut through his despair. The creature was still hunting. Daniel stumbled on, time losing meaning, pain and cold blending into numbness. Then he saw a flicker of light—a fire, man-made. Hope surged, but curdled as he approached. The campsite was a scene of horror—tents shredded, equipment scattered, human remains burning in the fire pit.
Daniel vomited, then forced himself to search the site. Massive footprints circled the clearing, smeared with blood. The creature had spent time here, deliberately destroying evidence. It was intelligent, a thinking predator. A sound in the darkness—just a raccoon, a moment of normalcy. Daniel found a smartphone, nearly full charge, but no signal. He could use GPS, maybe the flashlight. Suddenly, heavy footfalls approached. Daniel saw a cave entrance, half-hidden. He squeezed through, finding a larger cavern littered with animal bones.
On the walls, markings—primitive, deliberate, some like writing, others pictographs. Humans and ape-like figures, scenes of violence, hunting, children dragged away, heads placed as trophies. This was no peaceful species. A growl from the entrance—two glowing eyes. The creature had found him. Daniel backed away, trapped. The cave was a dead end.
Chapter Seven: Escape and Revelation
The creature squeezed through the entrance, filling the space with its presence. Up close, it was even more terrifying—wrong, intelligent, recognizing Daniel. It enjoyed the hunt. Daniel, cornered, felt a strange calm. If he was going to die, he’d die fighting. He charged, swinging the phone at its face, driving his shoulder into its midsection, punching, kicking, biting. The monster roared, swatted at him, claws raking his back. But Daniel’s desperate assault pushed it off balance, creating a gap. He dove through, squeezing past, bursting into the night air as the creature struggled to follow.
He ran, directionless, blood soaking his shirt, pain ignored. The creature resumed pursuit, but something had changed—it was done playing. Daniel tumbled down another slope, crashing against rocks, coming to rest at the bottom, broken and bleeding. Above, the creature stood silhouetted against the dawn. It turned and disappeared. Daniel realized he was dying—broken leg, internal injuries, fading vision. The creature didn’t need to kill him; nature would finish the job.
Darkness claimed him. Then, the sound of helicopter rotors. Lights, voices, hands lifting him. He screamed as pain flared, then drifted into unconsciousness. When he woke, he was in a hospital bed, alive. But his nightmare wasn’t over. Men in black suits surrounded him, asking questions not about his injuries, but about what he’d seen, what he’d remember, what he might tell others. Daniel understood with cold clarity: he’d survived the creature, survived the wilderness, only to become a prisoner of those who would do anything to keep the truth from getting out. The hunt had ended, but a new kind of danger had just begun.
End.
