The Stalker Between the Worlds: Claiming Territory in the Weird Vortex

*Warning: Photographs and information in this ongoing series might be upsetting to some readers. Discretion advised.*

This will be an ongoing series chronicling a couple years' worth of encounters with bizarre, horrific, and taunting interplay between one innocent citizen and a stalker that defies description (at least in our known world).

This was an exceptionally well-documented series of events that may at times be too graphic or horrifying for some readers, but it is our hope that by sharing this experience, someone out there might recognize a set of circumstances that are similar.

We have advice to be given to anyone encountering what I am at a lack of words to accurately describe, so henceforth refer to it as…the stalker between the worlds.

Claiming Territory

The Walker's mind was on the summer sunshine and the fluttering of butterflies as he disrupted their solitude on the lonely rural roadway. He picked up his speed as he passed the driveway of the once abandoned home where so much of the activity of IT was associated. A family had finally moved in after years of it sitting empty and he couldn't help wonder how long they would stay. Years ago, a man in a trailer lived on the property and he up and left in the middle of the night in a frenzy.

The Walker stopped when he feared stepping on something. He bent over to study the oddity only to realize, to his horror, he was looking at a bone with flesh. He studied it, likening what he saw to a finger, but trying not to jump to conclusions because of its jointed qualities. There was no blood nearby to show that this piece of a living creature was killed there or removed of this part of its body on the site. 

The Walker stood up, looked around, clicked off a picture, but couldn't help feeling he had encountered a body part of something more human. He hastened his walk, but later had to come back and look at it, perhaps turn it over to conclude what it was. But, when he came back later on, it was gone. He chalked it up to rural life and scavengers and felt there was no need to go to an extraordinary conclusion. 

In fact, he was proud at his ability to assimilate the oddities he ran across and not incite his fear reflex.


On a hot and humid day, the Walker sprinted through the "weird vortex" as he had come to refer to the site of the offerings and killings. There alongside the road was an armadillo shell and the bones were scattered across the roadway like a gambler's dice on a felt board. Of course, a car could have hit it. Then, scavengers had their way with it, especially the blasted vultures that were always scoping the street. He continued on, pumped up and proud of his ability to justify the findings. 

In the field where the horses with the braided manes had been penned in, there was an RV. Some guy had parked it there. Why, the Walker wasn't sure, but it was doubtful he'd stay long unless he was fine with being smack dab in the middle of the weird vortex.


Mid summer came and the Walker was caught up in a honey to-do list and a lot of commitments to others such that he wasn't concerning himself with anything but the upcoming duties.

When he was gone all day and came home, he rounded the house to get to the back when he stopped short at the side door of his home.

On the ground lay a dead rabbit carcass, head torn away and nowhere in sight. There was also no blood anywhere. It was killed and brought there and left. The Walker flashed his mind back to the other headless bloodless rabbit he had seen on the winter solstice in the weird vortex. The head had been torn off and the front leg, but the leg was discarded with the body, the head taken. And, once again, no blood on the site.

Now, the Walker's radar was reengaging. His head lifted and he studied the woods around the property, wondering if IT was watching, hoping for a reaction. With disgust he picked up the carcass, walked out to the roadway and tossed it into the gully on the far side. 

And it better not end up at my doorway!


It wasn't much longer after that the hummingbird feeder on the porch was, once again, tampered with. This time, something had shaken all the fluid out of it all over the porch. The Walker took the hose out to clean it up and keep the ants away, but all the while his eyes studied the summertime thicket, wondering what might be lurking in the brambles. And what the heck did it always have against the feeder?


The Walker had spied some strays again in the area. He worried for them. They always came out from the roadway to the quarry in the weird vortex and retreated back to that spot when they were done barking at cars on the street. 

Today, the Walker slowed down to try to coax a little stray to come to him. The little fellow kept moving along, stopping to look back at the Walker and then continuing on. The Walker was getting his workout this morning chasing the little booger, but he was determined to save its life, even if it didn't want that. 

The Walker stopped at the end of the quarry road where the little scamp was about to retreat to the woods near the quarry.

"Come on, fella." He squatted down and held out his hand, coaxing the little scruffy pup to come. And, after much coaxing, the Walker got to pet the little dog and bring her home for a good washing and hopefully a safer home. Within days, a neighbor wrangled up another little pup and the two of them managed to find good homes for them. 

As good as the Walker felt about saving two dogs' lives, he couldn't help wondering how many other dogs were down at that quarry area, destined to be killed, or the neighbors who had recently had dogs go missing....


The Walker stopped along the roadway, pulled out his cell phone and began to record a strange buzzing. He had heard this sound before and knew it was sometimes associated with areas where Bigfoot were. From what he understood, these Tall Beings could imitate all kinds of sounds, but buzzing? This was very odd and unsettling. 

The Walker shared with the blogger in hopes that people might recognize a situation and offer either advice or perhaps just help him understand what was happening and how to proceed. He knew he couldn't be the only one caught in some kind of back and forth with an unidentifiable foe. 

As he took to his route, the Walker called up the blogger on the phone to discuss recent happenings. Mid sentence and directly in the weird vortex, he smelled something.

"Wait a second." He told the blogger.

The stench of death was overwhelming and in the 95% humidity of August it was degrading fast, whatever it was. 

"Let me see if I can find the source of this stink." He warned the blogger as he leaned over and peered down the gully.

"Holy!" He howled. "It's a dead dog. Looks to be folded up like a piece of paper and tossed into the ravine. It's a big dog. How could someone do that?" 

The blogger commented. "Could it have been hit by a car?"

"Nope, not this distance. No way. Someone tossed it down there. I hope it's not my neighbor's missing dog." He remarked. "It's teeth are exposed in that snarl like the other big dog that was killed."

"Any footprints?" The blogger asked.

The Walker straightened up and looked around. 

"Oh yeah, got some prints. Looks like it came out of the woods, did the deed, walked across the road and slid on the embankment...." The Walker crossed the road and looked at the barbed wire fence. "Stuck a feather upright in the fencing as it left. This is in that weird vortex near the quarry road. Wow, this had no shoes on." 

The Walker took photos and immediately began to send them to the blogger.

"Three toes again. Not super big, just bigger than my size 12 foot. Looks like it slid a bit climbing the embankment." The Walker told the blogger as he began to send more photos.

"Hey, look at the sliding foot shot with the toes." The blogger announced. "Just to the right of it, it stuck its hand into the hill to help hoist itself. There's finger holes." The blogger studied the next shot, a side view of the print. 

The Walker described the situation. "I'm gonna send you a photo of a print. I'll put in an arrow so you can see. It stepped off the roadway, took this step, and next step was on the embankment. That was a helluva stride!" His voice was a bit breathy and amazed. "I don't think I've seen such good prints before."

The blogger pulled up past print photos to compare. 

The print left near the dead mouse

a track a few years ago

print in the talc

Three-toed track earlier in the year

cast from three-toed track 
(toes at bottom of pic)

The Walker stopped at the fencing and took photos of the feather. 

"Ah, this was purposeful, no accident."

"Where is the fence?" The blogger asked.

"Near the quarry drive." The Walker replied as he sent off the photos. 

Determined not to be intimidated and to continue his schedule, the Walker hit the pavement the next day on his daily constitutional. And, as he passed the fence where the feather was poised the day before, he had to do a double take. The Stalker had left another feather. Oh yes, it was marking its territory in the weird vortex.

*Just as the story was about to be published on here - something happened a couple days ago on Monday 


The Walker hit the pavement in the super humid middle of summer heat in the South. The trees gave good shade as he moved briskly up the lane. He contemplated the dead dog. It seemed the Stalker didn't like male dogs. Male dogs in rural areas could be curious, follow scents into the woods, even be confrontational. He recalled the time the dogs had something cornered near the creek and were going nuts, some of them covered in blood.

Just as the Walker reached the weird vortex, his eyes glanced around at the spots where things were always happening. 

One of the spots was where the shoelace had been left and he and the Stalker had moved it back and forth. The last time the Walker decided to go and tie it to the pipe. It had remained there, until this day.

The Walker slowed down and looked around. The lace was gone. Nope, it wasn't gone. It was on the ground now.

The Walker noted a knot. How could it come down off the pipe without being untied? He unfolded it to find that it had been torn off the pipe and rendered into two strands and the Stalker had retied it. With a double knot. The same calling card it used when it created a duct tape ligature to strangle the dog....

He pondered why it would retie the shoelace and leave it on the ground. Why not just tear it down and leave the pieces? He frowned, but against his better judgment unfolded it and wrapped it around the pipe this time to see what it would do next.

The Walker then picked up his pace out of the weird vortex and onto the quiet open roadway. He left the ball in the Stalker's court. It was time to think about ways to differentiate what exactly he was dealing with. It was definitely strong. It had no issues with killing. It didn't eat what it killed. It hated hummingbird feeders. It seemed to dislike stray male dogs a lot. And it could tie a knot....


Installment #2 "Dem Bones"
Installment #3 "Too Close To Home" 
Installment 4:  "Encounter"
Installment #5:  "Roadside Horror"
Installment #6:  "Baffling Kills"
Installment #7:  "Not By a Long Shot"
Installment #8: "There Is No End"
Installment #9 "Chaos Theory"