Tracker Uncovers Mysterious Guardian in the Silent Hollow of Kakorum Range

Hey Squatchable readers! Have you heard about the latest Bigfoot encounter video on YouTube? It's a must-watch for all Bigfoot enthusiasts out there! In this video, a freelance tracker shares his terrifying experience in the Kakorum range, where he was sent to locate a missing geological survey team. The team had vanished 3 weeks ago, their last transmission mentioning strange seismic activity in a remote valley known to locals as the Silent Hollow. The tracker, who dismissed local folklore about a creature called Barmanu, soon found himself in a valley too quiet, too still, like the mountains were holding their breath. He tracked the team's camp, finding torn fabric, a cracked water bottle, and massive, humanlike footprints with claws. By day three, he found their base camp, or what was left of it. Tents were shredded, equipment scattered like a bomb had gone off. No blood, no bodies, just chaos. He crouched by a fire pit, noticing something strange - the footprints circled the camp in a perfect ring, like a ritual. The tracker set up his own camp 100 yards away, keeping his fire low and his rifle close. Night fell fast, and the valley turned into a void of darkness. The silence was oppressive, broken only by the occasional crack of ice shifting in the distance. He was scanning the ridge line with his flashlight when he heard it. A low rhythmic hum like a chant vibrating through the ground. It was an animal. It wasn't human. It was something else. He killed the flashlight and crouched behind a boulder. The hum grew louder, closer, and then stopped. Silence again, but now it felt like a trap. He gripped his rifle, straining to see in the moonless dark. Something moved. A shadow too tall, too broad, slipping between the rocks. It wasn't stalking. It was circling methodical like it knew he was there. He held his breath, counting seconds, when a faint glow caught his eye. Across the valley, a cluster of pale blue lights flickered, hovering just above the ground. They pulsed in sync with a hum he'd heard earlier. Faint but undeniable. The local stories flooded back. Barmanu was not just a creature. They said it guarded something ancient, something not of this world. He thought of the seismic readings the team had been chasing. Anomalies that didn't match any known fault lines. His mind raced. Was this thing protecting something or was it drawn to it? The creature moved toward it, not aggressively, but purposefully, like it was leading him. He should have run. Every instinct screamed to get out, but the missing team, the lights, that symbol, they pulled him forward. He followed, keeping his distance, his boots crunching on frost. The creature didn't look back. It reached the structure, a slab of dark stone etched with the same angular symbols, and pressed its hand against it. The humming stopped. The lights went out, and then silence again. He crept closer, his rifle still raised, heart pounding so hard he thought it had burst. The creature turned, its glowing eyes locking onto his. It didn't attack. It just pointed at the slab, then at him, and he felt a pressure in his mind, like a voice that wasn't his. Images flashed, people running, screaming, the survey team's faces, then darkness. He understood. They were gone, taken or dead, because they gotten too close to whatever this was. The creature stepped back, and the slab began to glow faintly. Blue light seeping from the symbols. He realized it wasn't just guarding this place. It was bound to it like a sentinel. He backed away, his hands shaking, and it watched him go unmoving. He didn't sleep that night. He broke camp at dawn, marking the coordinates, but knowing he'd never come back. The satellite phone crackled when he tried to report in, static drowning out his voice. Two months after he left the Silent Hollow, he was back in Islamabad trying to bury what he'd seen in the Caracorum under routine jobs and cheap whiskey. The survey team was officially declared lost to an avalanche, a tidy lie that satisfied the authorities, but nodded at him. He couldn't shake the image of that creature, Barmenu, or whatever it was. Its glowing eyes, the angular symbol it traced, the slab of stone pulsing with unnatural light. At night, the hum echoed in his skull, not just a memory, but a presence, like something had followed him out of that valley. He started sketching the symbol compulsively, filling notebooks with its sharp alien lines. Then the dreams began. Jagged peaks, blue lights, and a voice. Not words, but a pull urging him to return. He ignored it. Told himself it was trauma. Until the day his satellite phone, long since powered off, crackled to life in his apartment. Static hissed and threw it. That same rhythmic hum from the valley. He smashed the phone, but the sound didn't stop. It was in his head now, constant like a beacon. He tried to move on, taking a tracking job in the Punjab to keep busy, but the hum grew louder, and the dreams turned vivid. He saw the slab again, its symbols shifting, forming patterns that felt like a map. One night, he woke up with his hands covered in ink. Another sketch of the symbol on his wall, drawn in his sleep. That's when he knew he couldn't outrun it. Whatever he'd seen in the hollow wasn't done with him. Against every shred of sense, he packed his gear, climbing ropes, a new rifle, a handheld GPS, and booked a flight back to Gilgit, the closest hub to the Kakorum. The villagers, they remembered him. They didn't ask questions when he asked about the hollow. Just handed him a crude map marked with a single word. Forbidden. An old man, his face weathered like the mountains, grabbed his arm and whispered that Barmenu wasn't a creature, but a guardian tied to something older than the peaks themselves. He said the valley was a door, and he'd already turned the key by seeing it. He brushed him off, but his words clung to him as he hiked back into the mountains. The silent hollow felt different this time, colder, heavier, like the air itself was watching. The hum was louder now, vibrating in his bones, guiding him to the