Encountering the Unseen: A Midnight Brush with a Skinwalker in Arizona

The Quiet Before the Presence

It was a warm, late summer night in Arizona, the kind where the desert air wraps around you like a blanket, but somehow, I felt cold. I had just finished a long day of work and was sitting on my porch, enjoying the stillness of the evening. The stars were out in full, blanketing the sky, and everything was calm. Almost too calm.

I’ve lived in the outskirts of Scottsdale my entire life. Out here, you get used to the quiet, to the wind blowing through the scrubby bushes, and to the distant calls of coyotes. But that night, something felt off. The usual sounds of the desert were gone. No wind, no rustling, no animals. Just silence. I’d heard stories from my grandparents growing up—tales of the Skinwalker, a dark, shape-shifting figure from Native American folklore, known to stalk the land late at night. I never paid those stories much mind, thinking they were just meant to scare kids like me. But now, sitting there in the dead silence, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching me.

I brushed it off at first, convincing myself it was just my imagination. After all, the desert at night can play tricks on you. The shadows seem to move, and the wind can sound like whispers if you let your mind wander. But tonight, the shadows didn’t just feel like shadows. They felt alive.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement. It was faint, like a flash of something darting behind the trees. At first, I thought it might just be a coyote or a stray dog. I live close enough to the wild that it’s not unusual to see animals wandering through. But something about the way it moved was wrong. It was too fast, too quiet. My heart started to race, and I tried to stay calm, telling myself it was nothing.

But then I saw it again, clearer this time. A figure, tall and dark, lurking just beyond the porch light. My breath caught in my throat as I realized it wasn’t a coyote. It wasn’t any animal I’d ever seen. The figure was too tall, too thin, and its limbs were twisted in unnatural ways. Its eyes—God, its eyes—glowed in the dark like two burning coals, fixed right on me.

I couldn’t move. My mind screamed at me to run, but my body was frozen, rooted to the spot by fear. This was no animal. This was something else. Something evil.

It was then that I remembered the stories. My grandfather had told me about the Skinwalkers—wicked beings capable of taking the form of animals or even people. They were known to stalk the desert, preying on those unlucky enough to cross their path. I’d laughed those stories off as a kid, but now, seeing this thing in front of me, I wasn’t laughing. This wasn’t just a story anymore. It was real, and it was right in front of me.

The figure moved closer, but its steps made no sound. The only thing I could hear was the pounding of my own heart, loud and fast in my ears. I kept my eyes on the ground, remembering something else my grandfather had said: “Don’t look it in the eyes. If you do, it can control you.” I wasn’t about to test that theory.

I tried to think of what to do, but my mind was blank. My body was shaking, and the cold I had felt earlier had seeped into my bones. The figure was almost at the edge of the porch now, standing just beyond the reach of the light, its glowing eyes still fixed on me.

In my panic, I did the only thing I could think of. I started mumbling Bible verses. I hadn’t been to church in years, not since I was a kid. My connection to religion had faded, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I remembered bits and pieces of verses from Sunday School. I wasn’t sure it would help, but I figured it was better than doing nothing.

“The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want,” I muttered under my breath, my voice shaking. “He maketh me to lie down in green pastures…”

My voice cracked as I stumbled through the words. I hadn’t said a prayer in so long that I wasn’t sure if I was getting it right. But I kept going, my heart pounding, my voice barely a whisper.

The figure stopped. I could feel its eyes on me, burning into the back of my skull, but it didn’t move any closer. I kept mumbling, repeating whatever bits of scripture came to mind. “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil…”

I glanced up, just for a second, and saw the figure recoil slightly. Its eyes narrowed, and it let out a low, guttural growl that sent chills down my spine. The air around me felt heavy, thick with an unnatural presence. But then something strange happened. The creature took a step back.

My voice was barely more than a murmur, and I knew deep down that I wasn’t saying the verses perfectly. I wasn’t even sure if I was making sense. I hadn’t been to a Sunday mass in years, and my knowledge of the Bible was patchy at best. But somehow, the words seemed to affect the creature. It backed away slowly, like it was disgusted by what it was hearing.

I kept repeating the verses, my voice growing a little stronger now. “Thy rod and thy staff, they comfort me…”

The creature growled again, but this time it sounded weaker, almost pained. It took another step back, then another. Slowly, it retreated into the shadows, its glowing eyes fading into the night. And just like that, it was gone.

I sat there on the porch, shaking, my heart racing, unsure of what had just happened. The desert was quiet again, but this time, the silence felt… normal. I took a deep breath and realized I had been holding it the entire time. Whatever that thing was, it was gone now. And somehow, my shaky, uncertain murmurs had driven it away.

I don’t know if the verses really worked or if the creature just decided I wasn’t worth the trouble. But whatever the reason, I was safe. For now.

I don’t think I’ll ever forget that night. The stories were real, and the Skinwalker was out there, lurking in the desert. But next time, I’ll be better prepared.

Carter
Scottsdale, Arizona
United States

Protect Yourself from Dark Entities with the Key of Solomon Pentacle of Saturn Talisman

The Pewter Key of Solomon Pentacle of Saturn Talisman Pendant is believed to carry protective powers rooted in ancient traditions. According to legend, the pentacle is designed to ward off dark entities, such as Skinwalkers, by harnessing the influence of Saturn—a planet associated with protection, discipline, and boundaries. The intricate symbols inscribed on the pendant are said to form a spiritual shield, repelling malevolent forces and keeping them at bay. In situations like the one described in my story, wearing the talisman could enhance your defenses, keeping evil entities from drawing near, much like how murmured biblical verses showed the Skinwalker disgust.