It all began almost a month ago when I was approached with this idea. For some backstory (but not too much for privacy concerns), I am a photographer for a pretty well-known magazine. My job consists of mostly traveling to beautiful destinations, seeking out all there is to see, and snapping photos. Now of course there's more to it than that, and I take great pride in my work, but that's the gist of it. It truly is my dream job. Well, was my dream job. After all of this, I don't know if I can continue.

The subject of my latest adventure is the US Pacific Northwest. Specifically, the wild and beautiful wilderness it contains.

My first stop, the Northern Cascades. Here I would be backpacking 20 miles into the National Park with stops along the way. Loaded up with enough gear and food for 4 days out in the wilderness I began my trek. Now, I should say that my employer...well they're not the most lucrative company in terms of how they treat their photographers. They pay well, but not THAT well, and hiring me an assistant? Out of the question. But the job does have its perks, including access to many places off-limits to the general public. Including the areas I would be visiting along my journey.

Luckily, I've been doing this for a few years now, and hiking 20 miles in 60 degree weather is paradise compared to some of the things I've had to withstand in my career.

Around 10pm of the first day I pitched my tent and hunkered down, went over some photos of marmots, deer and a fox that I had captured, then put out the lantern and got some rest. I awoke around 2 am to a loud banging noise off in the distance. Not unusual, but still unsettling. The thing about camping alone so far from anything, is there's no one to talk to. No one to bounce ideas off of. No one to rationalize with. And no one to calm you down when you can't keep it together. The noise subsided though and so did my lucidity. My eyes fell heavy and I collapsed back into sleep.

The next day went just as well and I reached my destination, catching some beautiful vistas along the way. After capturing everything I had set out to do, I made camp and relaxed for the night.

Again, I awoke to loud banging. Louder banging. This was definitely closer, and also accompanied by something new and incredibly unnerving. A noise that is hard to describe. I've tried thinking of ways to describe it, but the closest I can come would be to liken it to something like an owl's hoot, but much longer and with the pitch lowered way down. Something like a bullfrog's croak but even lower, much louder, and with that weird little "coo" that owls have.

I've talked to several park rangers since then, and even played a recording that I caught of one on my phone, but no one has been able to identify it. It echoes in my mind even as I write this. It's hard to describe how bone-chilling it is, and I have no idea why. And to hear it, when you're so far out, alone, with no cell service or any way of signalling for help. I can't even describe the feeling.

Despite the enormous dread, the sound again went away after just a few moments. This time though, getting back to sleep wasn't as easy. After an hour of laying in total silence, clenching my bear spray, I finally fell back asleep. But you want to know what the worst part was? Knowing the next morning that I still had two days left out here. Except, that wasn't gonna work for me.

I packed up as fast as I could, and began hiking back at a brisk pace. I worked out that if I walked faster and with fewer breaks, I could make it back in a little over a day, meaning I would only need to stay one more day in this place, and that by then I would be much closer to the busier trails, and therefore safer.

I walked 12 hours straight, with only two slight breaks, and managed to make it even further than I expected. At this pace, I could reach the truck by 1 am if I walked straight through, and though I was exhausted as hell, that's exactly what I did. Everything went pretty well, until about 10:45pm, only a few minutes after total darkness had fallen over the forest, when again, I began hearing the noise. The sounds had an otherworldly quality to them, like a cat's purr if you reversed it, lowered the pitch and filtered it through a megaphone.

My legs were burning, but it didn't matter, I walked even faster. No matter how fast or slow I walked though, the noises always sounded the same distance away. It never got closer to me, but it was always close, seemingly just out of eyesight. After over an hour of this nightmare, I caught a glimmer of the brown trailhead sign, and beyond that the reflection of my Jeep's headlights.

I ran. Threw my supplies in the back tailgate and hightailed it out of there. But, this is where things get even weirder. As I was pulling away, in my rear-view mirror, I caught a small glimpse of what was causing the noises. At the time, I didn't know what I was even seeing. Something tall...VERY tall, with a darkness around it that seemed to repel the ambient red glow from my tail lights. Around it, a long tattered robe, seemingly crimson in color, though this could have been due to my tail lights' glow. Either way, the image was visually striking and physically jarring. As the dust trail left by my jeep grew in size, the figure slowly faded back into the surrounding forest.

Now, if this all sounds crazy, well, you damn right it is. I have been to some incredible places, and some very frightening places, but I have never seen or felt anything like this before. But it doesn't end there unfortunately.

Two days later, the next wing of my trip took me to Mt. Rainier National Park. Now, I was a little nervous still, but now I was 200 miles away. Whatever it was, was surely gone now. If you've never been, the sheer vastness and beauty of MRNP is breathtaking. So after half a day of taking in the sights, the uneasiness faded away. Even the first night went by without issue. A little hesitant at first, I quickly felt relaxed enough to drift asleep staring up at the stars through the observation window in my tent.

Waking the next morning, I found nothing out of place and nothing suspicious, confirming that whatever it was, truly was far away. Another two days of hiking went by without any issues or disturbances, aside from a few cougar sightings and a pack of wolves in the distance on my second night.

It wasn't until my last night that I experienced it again. Sleeping on my last night, less than 3 miles from my Jeep, the same noises woke me in the middle of the night. Except this time it was very, very close. I shot up, grabbed my light, and shined it outside of the tent. Immediately, the light caught a glimpse of what I could now confirm was an old tattered crimson red robe gliding behind a giant evergreen. I became frozen in fear. My still waking mind could not even comprehend what I was seeing, or what was happening. The demonic purring noises seemingly teased me from behind the tree. Now fully lucid, I began to contemplate my options.

Option 1, make a run for it, leaving all my gear behind. The least likely. Not only would I be leaving literally tens of thousands of dollars worth of equipment, but I would have no chance of sprinting the 3 miles needed to reach the Jeep. Besides that, whatever this was had to be fast to reach me so quickly, and also incredible at tracking. So option 1, was a no go.

Option 2, spray the shit out of this thing with bear spray and THEN run for it. Only slightly better then option 1. Still not viable.

And option 3, the least fun, but probably most logical option. Remain in the tent until morning, and defend myself if I have to. And so I did. I'm not sure what time I woke up, I was too nervous to even look at my phone, but I do know it was hours before sunlight. About 30 minutes after the first rays reached my tent, the noises finally went away. It was another 45 before I felt safe enough to pack up and begin the hike back.

I reached my Jeep and again broke every law in the park on my way out, leaving tire marks in the freshly paved road out. I rented a hotel and regrouped, talking to a few friends of mine who were frequent hikers in the area. None of them had ever experienced anything like this, and only one actually believed everything I was saying.

I decided to skip my next two stops, Olympics National Park and the Hoh Rainforest. Employer be damned, it doesn't take a genius to realize that would be a bad idea. So, I decided to just go straight for my last stop, a much safer option, Cannon Beach, Oregon.

Here, I would just be taking some photos of legendary Haystack Rock at different times of day, sunrise, sunset, and some astrophotography shots with the Rock as the subject. Even better, I would be staying in a seaside room with a view of the Rock, so I could take shots from my balcony without even going outside.

Again, the first day went by with no issues. Photos came out great, and it was time to get my rig setup for some time-lapse photos of the rock against the night sky. Seeing as I was on the 3rd floor, and everything was automated I decided to let the rig do it's work and get some rest. Because of the skipped stops, I would have extra days here in case they didn't come out perfect the first time.

I woke the next morning to find my entire setup on the ground outside on the balcony. The whole thing weighed close to 50lbs, so even though the gusts near the shore got pretty strong, I was doubtful that was the cause. Luckily, nothing was damaged, so I wasn't too concerned. Until I checked the SD card.

The first 2 hours of the timelapse went great, but then something odd started to emerge in the photos. In the corner of each frame, a red tint began to slowly encompass the image, until the photos were nothing but crimson red cloth.

That was last night, and I'm afraid things aren't getting better. I'm packing the Jeep and planning on leaving for the airport immediately. But something strange happened again. Today, in broad daylight, as I was catching one last look at the beach and all the tourists taking photos, atop the rock I saw a tall dark figure, in a long tattered, crimson robe.

UPDATE: I caught a flight back to Florida late last night, and have just been resting and trying to get back to some normalcy since. Reading comments and suggestions helps, and hopefully nothing sinister was truly at work at all. It's also possible that I had begun to go stir crazy, and I have made an appointment for Monday with my doctor to get checked over. So far, nothing too weird has happened, but I can't shake the weird feeling that I'm still being followed. Odd noises and shadows playing tricks with me. Monday can't come soon enough. I have a friend coming to stay over tomorrow night. Hopefully some beer and video games will put my mind at ease. If anything new comes up, I'll be sure to update everyone.

UPDATE 2: I don't know what is going on, and I'm scared. My friend never showed up last night. I've spent all morning calling him, texting him. Along with calling friends and family to see where he is and no one has any clue. I know it's only been one night but I'm considering going to the cops. But would they even do anything so soon? He wouldn't go radio silent like this. This morning, I thought I heard a noise again. Could be my mind messing with me. I haven't slept good in days. Going to try to drive to the station. PNW

I intentionally left that part out because it makes the whole thing even more unbelievable. No one reacted. I pointed it out to a few people nearby and no one acknowledged anything I was seeing. I'm worried I may be suffering symptoms of cabin fever or something else that is making me imagine these things, but I've spent months at a time out in the wilderness before with no ill effects.