So, this isn't something I witnessed, I was told this story by one of the men who allegedly saw it. For context, this guy had run with some questionable crowds and did what jobs he had to to make money at times, if you get my drift. So he has a lot of stories. I mostly consider this a tall tale, but there is still enough of it that makes me wonder what if.

According to him, we'll call him Zed for the sake of the story, he had been finishing up some work down in Louisiana back in the late 1990s with his buddy and had a few days to kill, namely to get some fishing and hunting in, albeit out of season. One of the guys they had worked with gave them directions to a spot way back in the swamps and marshes (or the Bayou, as its more commonly called.) that they could do that without risking being caught by Fish & Game agents. He said one of the best things about this spot was there were, oddly enough, never any alligators there.

Bit of a red flag, that one.

Anyways, one fine morning they set out in their boat before the sun was up, navigating their way through the swamps. From what he described this was a section that was close to the Mississippi border, routes used by smugglers to move various products across state lines. They finally arrived at the spot after a few hours and some detours, (their way of not saying they got lost.) turned off the motor on their boat, and started fishing. The trees were just thick enough to prevent you from being seen from overhead, and they were essentially in a huge inlet that was somewhat sheltered from the rest of the bayou and had the start of solid land along two side of it. By solid land that also meant you had to walk across ten to fifteen feet of muck that could suck your boots off before you got to solid ground.

So according to Zed the day was progressing, and fishing wasn't going great. But they still had beer so they weren't inclined to go anywhere. They both noted that, as the guy had said, there were no alligators. Normally you could spot them lurking around or sunning themselves, but they were just utterly gone from the spot, as were most of the big fish it seemed.

It was at this point they observed a herd of feral hogs emerge from the undergrowth on one side of the lagoon and make their way to the muck that was described before, and commence to start rolling and rooting in it to their hearts content. Zed and his buddy slowly angled their boat closer, às they had side arms with them and certainly had no issues with getting wild pork instead of fish if the opportunity was there. The hogs were leary but not afraid, keeping the humans in their line of sight as they frolicked.

Zed saw they had no real way to get to a hog if they shot it there, so they just floated along and watched for a good opportunity. But instead they saw something else entirely. According to Zed, that's when they saw the mud start to move.

He knew instantly it wasn't an alligator, as an alligator would be flailing around in the mud trying to reach the hogs, and whatever this thing was, it was covered in mud. The only way he could describe it was something was pushing its way through the muck like a mostly submerged bulldozer, creeping up on the pigs. They watched as it slowly approached a cluster of hogs who had noticed the movement but seemed more curious about what it was than afraid. One of them, a pig that Zed estimated was between 150 to 175 pounds, was the furthest out in the muck and made the mistake of attempting to sniff at whatever the intruder was.

Zed said that quicker than they could react, something lunged out from the thing and attached to the pigs head and face. As the pig thrashed and tried to jump back, letting out the most blood curdling scream they'd ever heard, the thing was hauled partially out of the muck and came into better view. Zed realized it was an alligator snapping turtle of proportions he had never heard of. He's seen the one they keep at Bass Pro Shop, that got big enough that it cracked it's tank and had to get a new one, and he said that was like comparing a Chihuahua to a Pitbull.

It was still partially obscured by the muck that was covering it, but Zed swore it's shell had to be at least the size of the hood from a Volkswagen Beetle. (He was an extreme car enthusiast, so he knew his vehicles ) His best guess on its weight was it was well over 500 pounds. And was now backing up into deeper water dragging the pig with it. Zed said from what they could see the turtles head was so big that it was able to fit it's jaws partially around the pigs skull and it's beak was now essentially acting as a meat hook.

Apparently it was about a 30 second fight to drag the pig out into the lagoon, but Zed said it was clear the pig never had a chance. The turtle dragged it out into the water, and the pig made one last desperate attempt to break free. Apparently hearing something screaming underwater one last time is as unnerving as you'd imagine, and Hollywood doesn't get the sound right.

It then just went absolutely quiet after that. According to Zed he and his buddy sat there for a minute processing what they had just seen, and except for the froth on top of the water and the stirred up mud there was no sign anything had just happened. The other hogs had fled as soon as their comrade was attacked, and except for some bugs it was almost completely silent. They couldn't say why but Zed said they booked it out of there, that something was off and it felt wrong to be there.

It wasn't like they could go to Fish & Game and describe what they saw, but they did fill in their acquaintance on why there were no alligators in that area. As far as Zed knew, nobody else has ever seen this collosal turtle and came forward to talk about it. But Zed said that it was big enough that if it caught a person unawares, it could easily overpower and kill a human the same way it did that pig.

Again, this is how the story was told to me, it's not my story and I'm inclined to mostly believe it's a tall tale, or an exaggerated one. But it does highlight that you don't need something as fanciful as a skunk ape or Bigfoot to be nervous about what might be lurking out of sight.