Two young Mormon missionaries are assigned to the Navajo reservation for their calling. They soon started to experience threatening activity, including hex attacks at night while sleeping.
I received the following account several years ago:
"I finally turn 19, the big age for Mormons, where I get to leave for two years of my life and share my gospel as an LDS missionary. I get my calling, (where and when you'll serve) open it up, and see that I've been called to serve in the Farmington, New Mexico mission. My best buddy, (who happens to be Navajo) gets super excited for me because my area covers all of the reservation. I get stoked as well and get ready to leave in a few months. Within that time period, my buddy, gives me some heads ups about what I'll witness on the reservation, and one of course has to be of skinwalkers. The white men, for good reason albeit, still aren't that liked on the reservation. So he warned me to be humble and kind, and to try and not warrant any bad juju in my direction. So I agreed and left for 2 years.
The first month was pretty uneventful, I prepared in Utah, then flew out to Farmington where I met my mission president, and where my first area would be. I got assigned to the town of Tohachi, a tiny dot of a place on the reservation. We lived in a trailer behind the local church because there weren't really any houses for rent out in the middle of the reservation. Here is where things get weird on my first week. Seriously my first week I'm there, this happens to me.
Missionaries have a strict schedule during the day, we pray, eat, go teach, and come home to do a few push ups and in bed by 9. So me and my companion, I won't share his name because I'm not sure if he'd enjoy being mentioned. We start to do our little work out when all of a sudden, we hear some footsteps outside, creeped us out a little bit, but sadly the reservation has a lot of drunk residents that'll stumble around until they are eventually picked up by cops or family members. We brush it off and keep on with our routine, that is until the steps are right outside our door.
Now mind you, I'm 6 foot, semi athletic, 160 pounds, so I'm definitely not gonna try and pick a fight with anyone. But my companion was a 6'5 280 pound Tongan. Lets just say I felt a bit safe. Then the person started pounding on our door. I looked over to my friend and he looked a little worried, more cautious than anything. Like I said, non-natives aren't very popular on the reservation, and it wouldn't be out of the ordinary for someone to try and rob, or frighten us. Kind of a "get the hell out of here" message. Here is the freaky part, the pounding of fists turned into scratching almost instantaneously. Our first thoughts were, 'oh sh*t, he has a dog.' We came to the conclusion to grab our weights, and just try to sleep through this crap.
Well, nothing else eventful happened that night. It was rough falling asleep, but once I did everything seemed fine. We walked outside to see if we could Sherlock Holmes together some evidence to see if we knew who it was or any beer cans to verify our suspicions. What we found was terrifying and shocking to say the least. We were right, boot prints leading to our door. But where we should find boot prints leading away, were paw prints. I remember them like it was yesterday. A bit bigger than a dogs, I figured they were a coyote or wolves. We couldn't understand what we were seeing, why weren't there boot prints leading away, or these paw prints leading too. We didn't say it out loud, but I think we came to the same conclusion. Whatever knocked on our door, changed shape right then and there.
The day went on uneventful. We told our bishop, and he knocked it off too just a drunkard bugging us. He said to pray and to stay safe by being indoors before dark. Nothing crazy happened, until that night. Where I had one of the worst night terrors of my life. I had my back to our door, when I woke in my dream, I didn't even have to turn around to feel the unholy energy that was gravitating from whatever was inside our trailer. I had no voice. I silently plead "in the name of Jesus Christ" but nothing helped. It stepped on the corner of my bed and it felt as if my entire mattress was lifted. Whatever it was, my best way describing it is like a dementor from Harry Potter. It then drove me into my bed, ripping the breath from my lungs. I start crying, praying to my God to protect me from this thing. Then in a second, wham! I'm awake in a cold sweat, crying and waking my companion up. This happened to me the next week, every night without fail.
Long story short, I ended up going home early. It was mentally taxing reliving that every night, and they instantly went away when I got home. If anyone has any experiences with skinwalkers and the curses they can hex people with, I'd like to hear from you. Maybe that's what I was experiencing, but it scared me half to death, and was the most dreadful two months of my life." B
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