Bigfoot Has Been Stalking Me For Months, What Should I Do?? – Sasquatch Story

A MAN SAYS A BIGFOOT HAS BEEN STALKING HIS CABIN FOR SIX MONTHS — AND NO ONE WILL HELP
Every night, just after sunset, the same routine begins.

Footsteps emerge from the forest. Heavy. Deliberate. Slow. They circle a small, aging cabin tucked deep in the woods of the Pacific Northwest, more than 40 minutes from the nearest town. Sometimes the steps stop at the edge of the tree line. Sometimes they climb the porch. Sometimes, the man inside hears breathing through the walls.

For six months, the homeowner says, something he believes to be a Bigfoot has been stalking him — watching, studying, testing the boundaries of his home. And despite repeated attempts to seek help, he says no authority, agency, or social service has taken his claims seriously.

“I don’t expect people to believe in Bigfoot,” the man said in a recorded statement shared online. “I just need someone to believe that I’m in danger.”

A Desperate Move Into Isolation

The man, who requested anonymity out of fear for his safety, lost his job last year during a round of corporate layoffs. With limited savings and no immediate prospects, he began searching for the cheapest housing option he could find.

That search led him to a remote cabin surrounded by dense forest, miles from any neighboring homes. The price was unusually low. The real estate agent told him the previous owner had died and the family wanted the property gone quickly.

At the time, the isolation felt like a blessing.

“I thought it would be a reset,” he said. “A quiet place to figure out my next move.”

For the first few weeks, life in the cabin was peaceful. Days were spent chopping wood, repairing old fixtures, and adjusting to the silence. Nights were cold but calm. Wildlife sightings were common but unremarkable.

Then, gradually, things began to change.

Signs That Something Was Wrong

The first disturbances were subtle. Firewood stacks rearranged overnight — not knocked over, but restacked. Tools disappearing from the shed and reappearing days later in odd locations. Trash cans tipped over, their contents scattered but untouched.

“It didn’t look like animals,” he said. “It looked like something was examining my stuff.”

Soon came the sounds. Heavy footsteps at night, circling the cabin in a steady, rhythmic pattern. Not the light, erratic movement of deer or elk, but something slower and heavier, with a sense of intention.

Then he noticed handprints.

Large ones, pressed into mud on his truck hood and cabin windows. Each print showed five fingers and a palm far larger than any human hand. When he photographed them, the details failed to show clearly, appearing as smudges on camera.

The feeling of being watched became constant.

The First Sighting

About a month after moving in, he saw it.

Standing at the edge of the trees during dusk, roughly 50 yards from the cabin, was a massive upright figure. He described it as more than eight feet tall, covered in dark fur, with long arms, broad shoulders, and a head that appeared to sit directly on its shoulders.

“It just stood there,” he said. “Watching me.”

The figure did not move or make a sound. It breathed slowly and steadily. When he blinked and looked again, it was gone — without any noise or sign of retreat.

That night, the activity escalated.

Escalation and Fear

Footsteps moved onto the porch. Scratching sounds dragged along the cabin walls. Heavy breathing came from just outside the bedroom window. By morning, massive footprints surrounded the cabin — each nearly 18 inches long and pressed deeply into the ground.

From that point forward, the encounters became more frequent and more intrusive.

The figure appeared closer each time — first at the tree line, then near the shed, then beside the woodpile, and eventually just yards from the porch. It began appearing in daylight, openly examining the man’s truck, tools, and firewood.

On one occasion, he watched through a window as the creature opened his truck door and ran its hands along the steering wheel. On another, it picked up an axe, inspected it carefully, and set it back down.

“It wasn’t aggressive,” he said. “It was curious. And that was worse.”

Attempts to Get Help

Fearing for his safety, the man drove into town to contact law enforcement. He reported a trespasser, deliberately avoiding mention of Bigfoot. He showed deputies photos of claw marks carved deep into his door frame and dents pressed into the cabin’s wooden siding.

He says officers dismissed the damage as bear activity.

“They asked if I was drinking,” he said. “If I had mental health issues.”

He purchased trail cameras on their recommendation. Within days, both cameras vanished without a trace.

Social service agencies offered no assistance. Emergency housing programs told him he did not qualify. Family members urged him to seek therapy and suggested he was experiencing a breakdown brought on by stress and isolation.

Meanwhile, his financial situation deteriorated. He could not afford to move. Selling the cabin would take months, if a buyer could be found at all. A motel in town offered temporary relief, but at $70 a night, it was unsustainable.

“I’m trapped,” he said. “And it knows it.”

The Breaking Point

As winter approached, the encounters intensified. The creature began knocking on the door — three heavy, deliberate knocks at a time. Then came pounding, testing door handles, and slamming against the cabin walls hard enough to shake the structure.

One night, the man’s generator failed, plunging the cabin into darkness. Hours later, something landed on the roof. Footsteps paced above him for hours, bending shingles and rattling the chimney pipe.

Another night, the cabin shook as something repeatedly slammed into each wall in sequence, accompanied by deep, guttural vocalizations.

“I thought the place was going to come down around me,” he said.

By week 24, the activity had become nightly and predictable. The figure now stands on the porch for extended periods, breathing heavily just outside the door.

Skepticism and Silence

There is no scientific evidence confirming the existence of Bigfoot or Sasquatch. Wildlife experts note that fear, exhaustion, and prolonged isolation can significantly distort perception. Bears, they say, can cause extensive property damage and leave misleading signs.

But even skeptics acknowledge the man’s fear is real.

“What’s concerning isn’t whether Bigfoot exists,” said a psychologist familiar with cases of rural isolation. “It’s that this individual feels completely unsupported and unsafe.”

Law enforcement maintains that without clear evidence of human trespassing or a known animal threat, there is little they can do.

A Man Running Out of Options

Today, the man remains in the cabin, locking himself inside every night as the forest grows quiet — and then comes alive again.

“I don’t know what it wants,” he said. “I don’t know what happens if I make the wrong move.”

Whether the events are the result of an unknown animal, a misidentified threat, or a mind pushed to the brink by isolation, one fact remains: a man believes his life is in danger, and he sees no way out.

As winter closes in, so does the silence from those who might help.

And every night, just after sunset, the footsteps return.