It would not step into the porch light.
The teller grew up hunting and tracking everything that lives in northern Michigan. In November 2013, on the opening of deer season, she and her husband were staying at a house on family hunting land near Cedarville, in the eastern Upper Peninsula, with a big front yard and a gravel driveway and deep hardwood forest on every side. The property borders state land.
Around eleven they went out for a cigarette, taking the rifle as they always did because of bears. She stayed on the porch. Her husband, who grew up in the city, went down the steps into the yard and stood facing her.
From the dark of the driveway came footsteps: slow and heavy, like a very big man walking, but heavier than anything she had ever heard in the woods, including a full-grown bear. With them came a strange, heavy breathing. Her husband mouthed "what the...?" and she shook her head. Nothing she knew sounded like that, and she was frightened by that alone.
It stepped out of the tree line at the edge of the yard behind her husband. It stood on two legs, at least seven feet tall, and she guesses around four hundred pounds. Its fur was so black it seemed darker than the night around it. It paced back and forth along the edge of the yard but would never step inside the reach of the porch light, so she could barely make out its body. She could see a wolf-like head with a snout and tall, upright pointed ears, and instead of front legs, very long arms ending in hands.
She grabbed the rifle, started shooting and screamed at her husband to get up on the porch. He ran up, took the rifle, and told her to find a weapon and hide. She locked herself in a bedroom closet with a big knife. For about ten minutes she listened to him shooting and reloading. He said that while it paced it sometimes dropped to all fours, and that when it finally fled it ran upright, like a man, impossibly fast, slipping through the brush without crashing through it. She stayed in the closet until sunrise while he guarded the door.
In daylight they found no blood, no hair and no tracks, even though the footsteps on the gravel had seemed heavy enough to shake the ground. There had been no smell.
Later a neighbour she had known since high school told them he had seen it too, the winter before. During a party at his cabin he heard heavy steps on the porch, pulled back the curtain, and found it standing outside the door glass, looking down at him. Its fur was white then, with snow on the ground. Everyone at the party ran through the woods to his mother's sturdier house next door. He was scared just telling it.
The couple have since moved away. She still searches the internet for anyone else who has seen it up north.