Dogman Tales

When lifelong West Virginia ginseng hunter Jimmy Shepard finds his secret honey hole stripped bare just weeks before the season opens, desperation pushes him toward a place locals refuse to enter—a deep, forgotten forest below a sheer bluff known only as Widow’s Bottom. Despite warnings passed down through generations, Jimmy lowers himself into the bottom, convinced untouched ginseng still waits below.  What he finds instead is a place that doesn’t behave like normal woods. Sounds disappear. The ground feels watched. And something begins to follow him—patiently, deliberately—cutting off escape and herding him deeper into the forest.  As daylight fades and the bottom closes in, Jimmy realizes the stories weren’t superstition at all. Some places don’t just take lives. They keep them.

At the edge of a quiet Appalachian town, a reclusive widow lives alone on a stretch of beautiful, untamed land she fiercely protects. When a small group of curious local youths are invited to roam her woods under one strict condition—never after dark—they slowly discover that her rule is not born of superstition, but of hard-earned understanding. As boundaries blur and curiosity overrides caution, they witness a secret that places them face-to-face with something ancient, intelligent, and territorial. What follows is a tense, slow-burning descent into the reality of what truly moves through the mountains at night—and the terrible cost of being seen when you were meant to stay hidden.

Two seasoned wingsuit flyers hike deep into a remote section of Daniel Boone National Forest to scout a launch site few people ever see. The forest is quiet, the terrain unforgiving, and the timing critical.  While moving along a high ridge, they notice something on the cliffs above them—something that doesn’t belong there. What begins as a routine approach quickly turns into a fight for survival as the men realize they’re no longer alone, and whatever is watching them has no intention of letting them leave easily.  Cut off from safety and forced to make impossible decisions under mounting pressure, the two flyers must rely on experience, discipline, and the one advantage they have left—air.

Two young siblings, newly orphaned, are sent across the Scottish moors in the early sixteen hundreds to live with their aunt and uncle on a remote shepherd’s farm. Still burdened by grief and uncertainty, they arrive in a harsh, wind-scoured land where survival depends on cooperation, tradition, and an unspoken awareness that some nights are more dangerous than others.  As the children settle into life on the moors, they learn that a feared date is drawing near—one that generations of shepherd families have learned to prepare for without fully explaining to outsiders. Clear nights and open skies foster a fragile sense of confidence among the farms, but tension simmers beneath the surface as preparations quietly continue.  When the long-anticipated night finally arrives, the land itself seems to turn hostile. A terrifying presence moves through the darkness, livestock panic, and at least one farmer vanishes without a trace. In the days that follow, the children come to understand that what they witnessed was not legend or superstition, but a living truth the moors have guarded for centuries.  Night of the Warwolf is a slow-building historical horror story about inherited fear, communal resilience, and the permanent mark left by encountering something that does not belong to any man’s world.

When a hunting party sent from a migrating tribe fails to return, only one man stumbles back—half-frozen, bloodied, and carrying a terror no human should ever see. As he gathers the tribe around the fire, he recounts a nightmarish creature that stalked them through the forest, killing his companions one by one. A creature that moved with impossible grace… stood taller than any man… and seemed to play with its prey.  But the survivor did more than escape. He led the monster back to camp.  Fear tightens around the tribe as signs of the creature begin appearing around their teepees—gouged poles, stolen meat, heavy footsteps circling the fires at night. No one knows what hunts them… except perhaps their chief, Grayback, whose silence grows heavier with each passing hour.  When the tribe finally demands answers, Grayback reveals the truth he has carried since boyhood: he encountered this beast long ago, and his youthful arrogance left a mark the creature never forgot. Its true name has been whispered only in old stories... Windashar, which means "The Night Ripper" in the ancient language. And when the creature finally emerges from the forest, towering above the firelight, it recognizes Grayback instantly. What follows is a chilling confrontation between man and beast, memory and vengeance, as Grayback faces what he once fled.