At one time I used to chat with a male friend online who lived in a nearby state. Here's the story he told me some time ago.
My friend had been complaining on and off for a few weeks about screams at night emanating from the woods directly behind his house interrupting his sleep. He said they were female screams originating from perhaps 1/4 mile away occurring night after night. I asked him why somebody in the neighborhood didn't call the cops, and he replied, "The cops are too chicken to check it out."
A few days ago, he said, he finally got sick of this noisy bullshit and decided to do some investigating. (He is interested in investigating things to the point that he used to help out a PI on occasion. He also told me a couple of stories from his PI experiences.) So when the screams started again, he got out his Glock (he owns a few weapons) and stole into the night, sneaking stealthily through his backyard and into the dark of the woods, Glock in hand.
It was autumn and rather chilly (he reported the exact temperature to me, along with a few other minor weather details). There was no wind, so the intermittent screaming sounds were easy enough to track through the dark woods. I can't recall if he said he brought a flashlight along. After hiking about a quarter mile through the darkness, he came upon a small clearing with an encampment consisting of only a campfire that was on its way to going out. He pointed his Glock and slowly approached the fire. He searched around for clues, and in order to gain a closer look he dropped to his knees close to the small fire.
At this moment, my friend heard crashing sounds coming from the woods directly behind the fire from him. He looked up and saw a large, dark shadowy figure running straight at him. So of course he did what most people would do in the same situation: he panicked, jumped up quickly, and ran, firing a couple wayward shots in the general direction of his opponent behind him as he hurried his way back out of the clearing.
Apparently there was no pursuit (maybe he hit his opponent, who knows?), and he ran all the way back home, burst through the door and into his bedroom. While in the processing of regaining his wits, he looked down to inspect himself and saw something on his pants from where he had been kneeling by the campfire: half-dried, clotted blood, which was not his own blood because he had sustained no injuries.
I questioned him particularly on this last point, and he said it was definitely clotted blood, picked up from his kneeling next to the campfire.
The next morning, he hiked back through the woods to see if what happened the night before really happened. He said there had been a light snow which erased all evidence of his earlier passage, but he did eventually find the camp area again which was also covered in snow.
So what do you think? Real or imaginary? And which e-type do you think he is?