ABDUCTED by a CREATURE? Vanishes in OLYMPIC Park — Returns 20 Days Later with TERRIFYING DETAILS…
On 21st October 2008 in the remote Bagashell River Valley in Olympic National Park, Washington State, hunters found a man. He was alive but barely able to stand. He was barefoot, emaciated, and wearing torn clothes. In 19 days, he had lost 16 kg. His feet were clean with no cuts or abrasions, as if he had not walked 28 km through the rainforest.
On his back were three deep scratches, each 35 cm long, too wide to have been made by the claws of a bear or a cougar. A GPS tracker showed that on the night of his disappearance, he had been moving at a speed of 11 km hour through dense forest in complete darkness. physically impossible for a human being. He remembered nothing except the whistle that woke him up in his tent.
A whistle that was not the wind. Doctors recorded stress hormone levels consistent with prolonged extreme life-threatening danger. Mark Hansen, an experienced geologist and rescuer with 11 years of experience, had traveled this route more than 50 times. He left the rescue service and never returned to the mountains.
what happened to him on the night of 2nd October and what is hidden in the rainforests of the Olympic Mountains. On the morning of 2nd October 2008, at around 7 a.m., Mark Hansen loaded his Toyota Tacoma SUV and left the city of Port Angeles, Washington. He was 46 years old, worked as a geologist for the state geological service, and had been a member of the Olympic Mountain Rescue volunteer team for 11 years.
An experienced hiker and climber, he knew the Olympic Mountains better than his own home. Mark had planned a two-day solo hike to Seven Legs Basin, a popular but remote area of Olympic National Park. The route began at Soladod Lake, crossed a pass, and descended to a group of seven small alpine lakes. Mark had hiked this route more than 50 times in recent years. For him, it was a routine walk.
Mark’s wife, Susan, later told investigators that her husband was in an everyday mood that morning. He wasn’t nervous and didn’t mention any premonitions. He planned to return on the evening of fort October. He took his standard equipment with him. A tent, sleeping bag, food for 3 days, a Garmin GPS tracker, a satellite phone for emergency communication, a first aid kit, a knife, and topographic maps.
Susan also mentioned that Mark wanted to check geological samples in the area of one of the lakes, which is part of his job. Nothing unusual. She wasn’t worried. Mark was a professional. Mark reached the trail head around 10:00 in the morning. He registered at the ranger station at Soladod Lake as required by park rules. The ranger on duty that day, David Cole, remembered Mark.
They talked briefly about the weather. The forecast was good with clear skies and no precipitation. Mark said he planned to camp at Lake Ho, the largest of the seven lakes. Cole wished him luck and Mark set off on the trail. The first few hours went smoothly.
The trail to the seven legs is well marked with a moderate elevation gain. Mark moved at his own pace, stopping to take pictures and make notes. At 100 p.m., he sent a text message to Susan via satellite phone. crossed the pass, descending to the lakes. Everything is fine. Susan received the message, replied, and wished him a good hike. That was the last standard message from Mark.
Around 400 p.m., Mark reached Lake Hos. He set up his tent on a flat spot near the shore about 50 m from the water. The place was open, comfortable, with a good view of the lake and the surrounding mountains. He unpacked his things, built a sma
ll fire, and began to prepare dinner. At 4:44 p.m., according to the satellite phone records, Mark sent another message to Susan. The text was short. Near Lake Ho, the wind has died down completely. It’s too quiet. I feel like I’m being watched. Susan received the message a few minutes later. She immediately felt alarmed. Mark was not a man prone to paranoia or drama.
If he wrote something like that, it meant that something was really bothering him. She tried to call him back on his satellite phone. The phone was on, but Mark did not answer. Susan left a voicemail message asking him to call her back when he got it. Then she tried calling again an hour later. Still no answer. Susan began to worry, but decided to wait until morning.
Mark could be busy collecting samples, photographing the sunset, or simply away from his phone. She knew that communication delays were common in the mountains. On the morning of 3rd October, Susan tried to contact Mark again. The phone didn’t answer. She called Olympic Mountain Rescue where Mark worked. She spoke to the team coordinator, Tom Richards.
She told him about her husband’s last message. Tom said it was too early to sound the alarm. Mark wasn’t due back until the evening of the 4th, but Tom promised to check. Tom tried to contact Mark via satellite phone. No answer. He also checked Mark’s online GPS tracker.
Many rescuers used such devices with real-time tracking for safety. The tracker showed the last recorded location at Lake Ho at 2305 on 2nd October. After that, the signal disappeared. Tom began to worry. He had known Mark for many years and had worked with him on dozens of rescue operations. Mark was one of the most reliable members of the team. If he wasn’t responding, something was wrong.
Tom contacted the Olympic National Park Administration. He spoke to the head ranger and explained the situation. The head ranger agreed to send a patrol to Lake Hoe the next morning if Mark did not get in touch by evening. By the evening of 3rd of October, Mark had not answered a single call. Susan was panicking. Tom Richards decided not to wait until morning.
He assembled an emergency team of six members of Olympic Mountain Rescue, including himself. They left for the trail head late in the evening, planning to walk through the night with flashlights. The group reached the trail head around 11 p.m. They began their ascent in the dark. The hike to Lake Ho took about 5 to 6 hours. They moved quickly using headlamp
- The trail was familiar to all of them. Around 5:00 a.m. on 4th October, the team reached Lake Ho. Dawn was breaking and visibility was poor. They saw Mark’s tent on the shore. The tent was intact, undamaged. Tom approached the tent first. He called out to Mark. There was no answer. He unzipped the entrance and looked inside. The tent was empty.
The sleeping bag lay unzipped as if someone had hurriedly climbed out of it. Mark’s backpack was in the corner with his belongings inside. His boots were neatly placed at the entrance with the toes facing out. His jacket was hanging on a hook inside the tent. His satellite phone was lying on the sleeping bag. The screen turned off. The GPS tracker was also inside, turned off.
Tom left the tent and surveyed the area around it. There were no signs of a struggle, no damage. The fire pit was cold, and there were leftovers from dinner in the pot. It looked as if Mark had eaten, gone to bed, and then gotten up in the night to leave. But where? and why barefoot without a jacket or a phone. The group began searching around the camp.
They checked the lake shore, the trails, and the nearby forest. They looked for Mark’s tracks. On the soft ground near the tent, they found footprints from his boots made during the day when he set up camp, but no barefoot tracks were leading away from the tent. One of the rescuers, Jason Miller, found a strange detail.
50 meters north of the tent at the edge of the forest, a flashlight lay on the ground. Mark’s flashlight was the model his team recognized. The flashlight was on, but the battery was dead. It lay on the ground, pointing toward the forest. Tom picked up the flashlight and examined it. No damage. Why did Mark leave it here? Was he trying to shine a light on something in the forest? The group continued their search. They searched the area within a kilometer of the camp.
They shouted Mark’s name, shown their flashlights, and listened to the forest. Silence. No response. By noon on 4th October, the group called for backup. The park administration sent additional rangers and another group of rescuers. By evening, 20 people were working at the site. They expanded the search area, checked all the trails leading from seven lakes, searched the shores of all seven lakes, and walked along the surrounding ridges. They used dogs.
Two search dogs picked up the trail from the tent, walked about 100 meters north into the dense rainforest, then stopped. They sat down and didn’t move. The guides tried to get the dogs to continue, but they whined and refused to go. One of the guides, an experienced dog handler named Robert Green, told Tom that this behavior occurs when dogs lose a trail, but usually they continue to search, circling and trying to find it again.
Here they just stopped as if the trail had vanished into thin air. On 5th October, the search continued with the help of a helicopter. They flew over the Seven Lakes area and the surrounding territory, searching from the air. The pilot and observers saw nothing. No people, no tracks, no signals. Tom Richards returned to Mark’s camp and carefully examined everything again.
He turned on Mark’s satellite phone and checked the latest messages. Apart from Susan’s message at 4:44 p.m., nothing else had been sent. Tom also tried to turn on the GPS tracker. The tracker turned on. Tom opened the movement history. The last entry was at 0317 on 3rd October, the night after the disappearance. The point was 4 km north of Lake Ho in a dense rainforest. Tom studied the track in more detail.
After Mark set up camp by the lake, the tracker recorded him remaining stationary until 11:05 p.m., after which the movement began. Swift movement, speed 11 kmh, direction strictly north through the forest. Tom couldn’t believe it. 11 km hour is a fast walk on a flat road.
In a nighttime forest without lighting over rough terrain, it’s physically impossible. A person can’t move that fast in such conditions, not even an experienced hiker like Mark. Tom showed the data to the other rescuers. Everyone was puzzled. One of them suggested that the tracker might have malfunctioned and shown incorrect data, but the tracker was a high quality reliable Garmin model. Malfunctions were rare.
Another rescuer suggested that someone or something had carried Mark. A bear. Cougars don’t carry adults such distances. Bears can, but they leave tracks, noise, and blood. There was nothing here. Tom decided to check the tracks endpoint. A group of eight people headed north from the camp, following the GPS coordinates. The path was difficult.
Dense rainforest, fallen trees, ferns taller than a person. wet ground. They reached the endpoint in 3 hours. The place was remote with no trails nearby. The forest was dense and it was dim even during the day. There was nothing on the ground, no traces, no belongings of Mark, no signs of his presence. Tom examined the surroundings.
One of the rescuers found a strange detail 50 m from the end of the trail. There were scratches on the trunk of a large spruce tree about 2 m high, deep, parallel, and four grooves. The scratches ran vertically down, each about a meter long. The bark was torn off, exposing the wood. Tom photographed the scratches. They looked fresh.
He couldn’t tell what had left them. A bear. Bear scratches are usually arranged differently with varying intervals. These were too even, too deep. The group continued searching the area for two more days. They surveyed a 3 km radius. They found nothing. Mark had disappeared without a trace. On 7th October, the search was expanded even further.
Volunteers, residents, and hunters who knew these forests were brought in. More than 50 people combed the mountains. They used drones with thermal imaging cameras. Although in 2008 this technology was not yet so advanced. They checked all the huts, shelters and old camps within a 20 km radius.
On 10th October, the park administration officially declared Mark Hansen missing. The case was transferred to the Clum County Sheriff’s Office. An official investigation began. The detective assigned to the case interviewed Susan Hansen. She repeated everything she knew. She told him about her husband’s last message. She said that Mark never talked about feeling like he was being followed. It wasn’t in his nature.
The detective also interviewed Mark’s colleagues from Olympic Mountain Rescue. They all said the same thing. Mark was a professional, experienced, and reliable. He couldn’t have just gotten lost or done something stupid. Something had happened to him. On 11th of October, the search continued, but with less intensity.
Many volunteers returned to their jobs, leaving only the main groups of rescuers and rangers. On 12th October, one of the rangers patrolling the area north of Seven Lakes made a strange discovery. On the bank of a small stream about 8 km from Mark’s camp, a t-shirt was lying on the rocks. The ranger picked it up and examined it.
The t-shirt was torn, dirty, and wet. There were stains on the fabric that looked like blood. The ranger called the rescuers on his radio. The t-shirt was packed up and sent for examination. The analysis showed that the blood belonged to Mark Hansen. The blood type matched, but the amount of blood was small and did not indicate a serious injury. The search in the area where the t-shirt was found continued for 3 days.
Nothing else was found. By 15th of October, the number of search participants had decreased to 10. The chances of finding Mark alive were diminishing with each passing day. If he were injured without food or water in cold weather, he could not survive more than a week. On 18th October, the official search was suspended.
The park administration announced that the case remained open, but the active phase was over. the family could organize a private search if they wanted to. Susan did not give up. She hired a private search and rescue company from Seattle. A team of six professionals arrived at the park on 19th of October and began their own investigation. They reviewed all the data collected earlier.
They inspected Mark’s camp, followed the GPS track, and examined the place where the t-shirt was found. They also interviewed everyone who had participated in the search, trying to find details that might have been overlooked. One of the members of the private group, a survival expert named Jack Morris, noticed the dog’s behavior during the initial search.
He spoke with dog handler Robert Green, and asked him to describe how the dogs had reacted. Green said that the dogs were acting strangely. They picked up the scent easily and walked confidently. But when they reached a certain point in the forest, they stopped abruptly. One of the dogs began to whimper, and the other lay down on the ground and refused to move.
Green tried to lead them closer, but the dogs resisted and backed away. Morris asked if this had happened before. Green replied that it had once several years ago when they were searching for a missing hiker in another area of the park. The dogs had also stopped then and refused to continue. The hiker was later found dead, killed by a bear attack.
Green suggested that the dogs had sensed the predator and were afraid. Morris asked to be shown the exact spot where the dogs had stopped. Green agreed. They drove to Seven Lakes on 20th October. Green led Morris to the spot. It was a small clearing at the edge of a dense forest about a 100 meters north of Mark’s camp. Morris surveyed the area.
Nothing unusual. Trees, ferns, moss. He walked further into the forest to the place where the dogs had refused to go. After 50 m, Morris stopped. He noticed that the trees here were strange. Many of the trunks had scratches similar to those they had found earlier. Deep, parallel, high above the ground.
Too many scratches to be accidental. Morris photographed them and measured them. The scratches were between 1 and 1/2 and 3 m above the ground. The distance between the grooves was about 10 to 12 cm. Too wide for a bear. too high for a cougar.
He also noticed that there was almost no undergrowth on the ground between the trees. Usually the Olympic rainforest is dense, overgrown with ferns and shrubs. Here it was clean, as if something regularly passed through here, trampling the plants. Morris called Green and showed him the findings. Green was puzzled. He said he had never seen so many scratches like these, and the clean ground was strange, too.
They returned to camp and reported to the other members of the private group. They decided to continue exploring this area of the forest the next day. On 21st October, the private group returned to the forest with complete equipment. They plan to spend the whole day there, carefully examining the area. Around 11:00 a.m.
with Aading, they went about 2 kilometers north of Mark’s camp into the forest. The terrain was challenging. Steep slopes, fallen trees, thick undergrowth. They moved slowly, examining each area. Suddenly, one of the group members named Kyle Anderson stopped. He heard something. Everyone fell silent and listened.
A strange sound came from deep within the forest. It was low, drawn out, like a moan or a howl. But it wasn’t an animal. It was something between a human voice and the roar of a beast. The sound lasted a few seconds, then faded away. The group looked at each other. Morris asked if anyone knew what the sound was.
No one knew. They decided to move toward the sound. They walked another kilometer. The sound repeated, closer now. It was clearer now. Definitely not a bear, not a deer, not a bird. The group stopped. Morris took out his camera and started filming. The sound came a third time, very close, maybe a 100 meters away, then silence. They waited a few minutes.
Nothing happened. Morris suggested they turn back. The others agreed. It was already 3:00 in the afternoon, and it would soon start to get dark. On the way back, as they passed one of the scratched fur trees, Kyle Anderson noticed something on the ground. He bent down and picked up the object. It was a sock, an ordinary hiking sock, dirty and torn.
Morris examined the sock. There was no tag on it, but it looked like a man’s largesiz sock. It could have been Marks. They packed the sock and took it as evidence. On the evening of 21st October, the private group returned to the city and handed the find over to Mark’s family. Susan identified the sock. Yes, it was Mark’s sock.
She had bought him some like it. The private group continued their work for another week. They found a few more small items, a scrap of fabric from trousers, a plastic button. Everything indicated that Mark had indeed been in that forest moving north. But where he went next was unclear. By the end of October, the private group had completed its search. Susan had no more funds. Mark was never found.
But the story did not end there. Early in the morning on 21st October, 19 days after Mark’s disappearance, two hunters named Brian Keller and his brother Tom Keller were hunting deer in the Bugashell River Valley about 28 km west of Seven Lakes. It was a remote area rarely visited by tourists.
A dense rainforest, rugged terrain. Around 8 in the morning, the brothers heard a strange sound, something like a faint moan. They looked at each other and decided to check it out. They walked through the fern thicket for about 50 m. They saw a man. He was lying at the base of a large cedar tree curled up in a ball. His clothes were torn. He was barefoot and thin to the bone.
His face was dirty, his hair tangled. He wasn’t moving. Brian ran up first and crouched down beside him. He checked his pulse. There was a pulse, weak, but steady. The man was alive. Tom took out a flask of water and brought it to the man’s lips. The man opened his eyes and took a few sips. He looked at the brothers, but did not recognize them.
His eyes were empty, absent. Brian tried to talk to him. He asked his name. The man did not answer, just kept staring. Tom noticed wounds on the man’s back. He carefully lifted the remains of his shirt. There were three long scratches on his back, parallel from his left shoulder to his right side.
They were deep, already beginning to heal, but still red. The brothers realized that the man needed urgent help. They didn’t have a cell phone with them. In 2008, there was no coverage in these parts anyway. Tom stayed with the victim while Brian ran to their pickup truck, which was parked 2 km away on a forest road.
Brian reached the car in 20 minutes and drove to the nearest ranger station. He reported his discovery. The rangers called an ambulance and a search party. An hour later, medics and rescuers arrived at the scene. They loaded the man onto a stretcher and began to transport him to the road. One of the rescuers who had participated in the search for Mark Hansen recognized him.
It was Mark. Mark was taken to the hospital in Forks, the closest town to where he was found. There, doctors examined him. His condition was serious but stable. He was severely malnourished, dehydrated, and hypothermic. His weight had dropped from 92 to 76 kg, a loss of 16 kg in 19 days. The doctor who examined him, Dr. Emily Hart, was struck by the condition of Mark’s feet.
They were bare, dirty, but almost undamaged. There are a few minor scratches and slight abrasions, but nothing serious. No deep cuts, punctures, or infections. It was as if Mark had not walked 28 km barefoot through a rainy forest. Dr.
Hart also examined the scratches on his back, three parallel wounds, each about 35 cm long. The wounds were deep, cutting through the skin and partially through the muscle tissue. The edges of the scars were smooth, as if made by a sharp instrument. The distance between the scratches was about 12 cm. Dr. Hart photographed the wounds and took samples for analysis. She could not determine what had caused the wounds.
They did not look like animal claws. They were too smooth. They did not look like a knife or other instrument. They were too deep for a single movement. Mark was hooked up to an IV, given nutritional solutions, and warmed up. He was in shock and barely responded to questions. The doctors decided not to pressure him and to let him rest.
Susan arrived at the hospital in the afternoon. She saw her husband and burst into tears. Mark recognized her, but couldn’t speak. He just held her hand. By the evening of 21st October, Mark’s condition had stabilized. He regained full consciousness and was able to answer questions, but his answers were strange. The detective who was investigating Mark’s disappearance arrived the next day to question him.
He sat down next to the bed and began to ask questions cautiously. Mark said he remembered almost nothing. His last memory was lying in a sleeping bag in a tent by Lake Hos. It was nighttime. He woke up to a sound. It wasn’t the wind or an animal. It was a whistle, high-pitched, drawn out, coming from all directions at once.
Mark got out of his sleeping bag and wanted to look out of the tent. He unzipped the entrance. It was dark outside, complete darkness, even though the sky was clear and the stars were shining that night. But around the tent, it was dark, as if someone had turned off the lights. Mark said he felt terror.
panic, instinctive, anim animalistic. He couldn’t explain why. He just knew he had to run immediately. He jumped out of the tent and ran. He doesn’t remember where. He just ran. Without shoes, without a jacket, without a flashlight, he ran into the darkness. His next memory is waking up on the ground next to a tree.
It was light out, daytime. He didn’t know where he was or how much time had passed. His body achd and his head was spinning. He tried to get up but couldn’t. He was too weak. After that, there were gaps, fragments of memory. He remembered drinking water from streams, eating berries, moss, and something else. He doesn’t remember exactly. He walked or crawled.
He doesn’t remember the direction. He just moved. The detective asked if Mark remembered how he got the scratches on his back. Mark thought about it. He said he wasn’t sure. He had a vague memory of something big and dark moving behind him. He could feel it, but he couldn’t see it. He heard footsteps, heavy, slow footsteps, then pain in his back, sharp, burning.
He fell. He didn’t remember anything else. The detective asked if Mark had seen the creature’s face or shape. Mark said, “No, only a shadow. A large shadow that moved strangely. Not like a human. Not like an animal. Different.” The detective wrote everything down. He didn’t know what to do with this testimony.
Mark’s medical examination included a psychological evaluation. The psychologist, Dr. Jeffrey Stone conducted several sessions with Mark. Dr. Stone wrote in his conclusion that Mark showed signs of acute post-traumatic stress, memory loss, fragmented memories, and severe anxiety. Blood tests showed abnormally high levels of adrenaline and cortisol, stress hormones.
The levels were similar to those found in people who have experienced prolonged, extreme, life-threatening situations. Dr. Stone also noted that Mark was not faking. His reactions were genuine. He had indeed experienced something traumatic that caused this condition. The physical examination continued.
The scratches on his back were sent for examination. A forensic scientist studied the shape of the wounds, their depth, and the distance between them. The conclusion was strange. The wounds were inflicted by something sharp, complex, and under tremendous pressure. The shape does not correspond to any known instruments. The distance between the wounds was too vast for bear claws.
Grizzly bears have claws that are 5 to 7 cm apart. Here they were 12 cm apart. Pumac claws are even closer together. In addition, cougars usually attack the neck or head, not the back. and cougar wounds look different, more ragged with characteristic bite marks. The forensic scientist was unable to determine what caused the wounds, he wrote in his report.
The origin of the injuries is unknown. Further investigation is required. On 23rd October, Mark was discharged from the hospital. Physically, he recovered quickly. He was young and healthy, but psychologically, he was broken. At home, Mark hardly spoke. He sat by the window looking out at the street. Susan tried to get him to talk, but he answered in monosyllables.
He didn’t sleep at night. He said he was afraid to close his eyes. He had dreams, nightmares. On 25 October, Tom Richards, coordinator of Olympic Mountain Rescue, came to see Mark. They had been friends for many years. Tom wanted to support Mark and find out how he was feeling. Mark gave him a cold reception. He hardly spoke.
Tom tried to ask him about what had happened in the forest. Mark said only one thing. I’m not going back there ever. Tom asked if Mark could describe the creature that had attacked him. Mark paused. Then he said, “I don’t know what it was. I don’t know if it was even a creature, but it’s real and it’s out there. Tom didn’t understand.
He asked if Mark wanted them to go back to the area and try to find evidence. Mark replied sharply, “No, leave it alone. Don’t go there.” Tom left feeling concerned. He talked to the other members of the team. Everyone was puzzled. Mark was one of the bravest and most rational rescuers.
If he was so scared, then there really was something there. But no one wanted to believe in the theory of the unknown creature. It defied logic. It was much easier to assume that a bear had attacked Mark, suffered a head injury, and lost his memory due to shock. The Olympic National Park Administration conducted its own investigation.
They sent rangers to the Seven Lakes area and surrounding territories. They searched for traces of large predators and checked reports of unusual animal activity. They found nothing. There were no traces of bears or cougars in those areas. Moreover, the rangers noted that the animals in the area were behaving strangely. Deer avoided certain areas of the forest.
Birds did not perch on trees with scratches. Even small rodents avoided that area. One of the rangers, an experienced naturalist named Douglas Turner, shared his personal opinion with his colleagues. He said that unknown species could live in the Olympic forests. The territory is vast, inaccessible, and little studied. Perhaps some large predator, not yet described by science, lives there.
But officially, this version was not considered. The park administration closed the investigation and declared the Mark Hansen case an accident involving an attack by an unidentified animal. In early November, Mark made a decision. He submitted his resignation from Olympic Mountain Rescue.
Tom Richards tried to talk him out of it, but Mark was adamant. He said he could no longer work in the mountains. He couldn’t risk being there again. Mark also quit his job at the Geological Survey. He found another job in an office in the city without field trips. Susan supported him. She saw that her husband was broken and did not insist.
Mark refused to give interviews to the media. Several journalists tried to contact him, but he did not answer their calls. Only once in a conversation with the detective did he say, “I don’t want people to think I’m crazy. I know what I saw, but I can’t prove it. That’s why I’m keeping quiet.
