I stepped off the bus, my duffel bag slung over my shoulder, the
familiar sight of my hometown coming into view.
Everything looked the same, yet different.
The houses, the trees, even the old diner on the corner.
They were all still there, but a heaviness hung in the air.
I was excited to see my family, but I couldn't shake this weird
feeling in my gut. As I walked up the driveway I
noticed the lawn hadn't been mowed in weeks.
My parents car was parked out front, but the house seemed
quiet. Too quiet.
I pushed open the door and called out.
Mom, dad, I'm home. No answer.
I dropped my bag by the door and headed into the living room.
That's when I saw them. My parents were sitting on the
couch, holding each other. Mom's eyes were red and puffy,
like she'd been crying for days. Dad looked up at me, his face
pale and drawn. What happened?
I asked, my heart racing. It's Tristan.
Dad said, his voice cracking. He's gone?
I echoed, not understanding. What do you mean gone?
Mom burst into tears, burying her face and Dad's shoulder.
He hugged her tighter, but his eyes stayed on me.
He went on a camping trip with his friends a few weeks ago.
They they said he wandered off and got lost.
They couldn't find him. I felt like the ground had been
ripped out from under me. Tristan, my little brother,
lost. No way.
But did they look for him? The police search parties.
Dad nodded, but he looked away, staring at the wall.
The authorities searched for days, but then the weather got
bad. They had to call it off.
They think. They think he didn't make it.
I stood there, trying to wrap my head around what they were
saying. Tristan was the most careful
person I knew. He wouldn't just wander off.
Something didn't add up. I need to talk to his friends.
I said, my voice steadier than I felt.
I need to know what really happened.
They're all shaken up. Mom whispered, finally lifting
her head. They're telling different
stories. None of it makes sense.
I clenched my fists, my jaw tightening.
I'll make sense of it. Over the next few days, I met
with Tristan's friends, one by one.
Each story was different. One said they were sitting
around the campfire when Tristan suddenly got up and walked into
the woods like he was in a trance.
Another swore there was a sudden storm and they got separated
while trying to find shelter. But the worst one was Kyle,
Tristan's best friend. He refused to look me in the
eye, mumbling something about a figure they saw in the woods.
A figure with glowing eyes. That's crazy.
I said, feeling my temper flare. You're saying you saw some kind
of monster out there? Kyle just shrugged, his eyes
darting around the room like he was scared of something or
someone. I don't know man, I'm just
telling you what I saw or what I think I saw.
I left feeling more frustrated than ever.
Nothing was making sense. If they all saw the same thing,
why were their stories so different?
What really happened to Tristan that night?
Winter was settling in and the search had been called off until
spring. The woods were too dangerous to
go into now, covered in ice and snow.
But I couldn't just sit around and wait.
I had to do something, anything, to find out the truth.
Because deep down, I knew one thing for sure.
My brother didn't just wander off.
Something or someone took him, and I was going to find out what
it was, no matter what. I drove into the town, a place
that felt like it was frozen in time.
Old buildings lined the Main Street, their paint chipped and
faded. People stood on the sidewalk,
staring at me as I passed by, their eyes cold and unfriendly.
I tried to ignore it, but a shiver ran down my spine.
This wasn't the warm, welcoming place I had imagined.
It felt off. I parked in front of the town's
only motel, a rundown place with a flickering neon sign.
As I got out, an old man sitting on a bench nearby watched me
closely. You shouldn't be here, He
muttered, almost to himself. Excuse me?
I asked, taking a step toward him.
He shook his head, looking past me like he didn't want to be
seen talking to me. This town, it's not safe,
especially for outsiders. I frowned.
I'm not here to cause trouble, I'm just looking for answers
about my brother. The old man glanced around
nervously, then lowered his voice.
You won't find any answers here, just more questions.
You should leave while you still can.
I opened my mouth to ask more, but he turned away, pulling his
hat down over his eyes. It was clear he wasn't going to
say anything else. Frustrated, I headed into the
motel to check in, but his words stuck with me.
What was this town hiding? Later that day I went to the
local diner to grab some food and hopefully some information.
The waitress gave me a tight lipped smile when I mentioned
Tristan's name, but her eyes quickly darted away.
The other customers stopped talking and glanced over at me,
their expressions guarded. Look, I just want to know if
anyone saw my brother the night he disappeared.
I said, trying to keep my voice calm.
He was camping near the forest with his friends.
The waitress bit her lip, looking around like she was
making sure no one else could hear.
You shouldn't go poking around. She whispered.
People here don't like it when outsiders ask questions.
It's better to let some things be.
Before I could press her for more, the door to the diner
swung open and a tall middle-aged woman in a Ranger
uniform walked in. She glanced around, her eyes
locking on to mine for a split second before moving on.
Something about her seemed different from the rest of the
townsfolk. Maybe she knew something.
I waited until she sat down at the counter, then approached
her. Excuse me, are you with the
Forest Service? I asked, trying to sound casual.
She looked at me for a long moment before nodding.
Names Ranger Evans, you must be the brother looking for answers.
Yeah. I replied, surprised she knew
who I was. Can you help me?
She motioned for me to sit. There are things about this
place you don't understand. She began, her voice low.
Things the townspeople are too scared to talk about.
What kind of things? I asked, leaning in closer.
She hesitated, then continued. There's an old legend about the
forest, about a creature that's lived there for years.
Some say it's a Wendigo, a monster born from dark magic and
hunger. People who venture too close to
its territory, they don't always come back.
My heart pounded in my chest. You're saying my brother and his
friends went into its territory? She nodded.
They went near Green Peak lookout tower.
That's the heart of its territory, and no one who goes
there comes back the same, if they come back at all.
I felt a chill run through me, but I had to know more.
How do I stop it? How do I find out what happened
to Tristan? Ranger Evans glanced around
again, then slid a small folded map across the counter to me.
This is a map to the tower. If you're really set on going,
this will help you find it. But be careful.
There are things in those woods that don't want to be found.
I took the map, my hands trembling slightly.
Thank you, I said. I'll be careful.
As I left the diner, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was
walking into something much bigger and much more dangerous
than I had ever imagined. But I had no choice.
I had to know what happened to my brother, no matter the cost.
I started the hike to Green Peak early in the morning, the sun
barely peeking over the horizon. The forest was quiet, almost too
quiet. There were no birds singing, no
rustling of leaves, just the sound of my boots crunching on
the frost covered ground. The silence was eerie, like the
whole place was holding its breath, waiting for something.
As I climbed higher up the mountain, the air grew colder
and a thick fog began to roll in, making it hard to see more
than a few feet ahead. I checked the map Ranger Evans
had given me, trying to stay on the path she marked.
Every so often I'd find a broken branch or a piece of trash that
made me think of Tristan. He'd been here, I just knew it.
After a few hours of hiking, I reached a clearing.
In the middle of it stood the Green Peak lookout tower,
looming against the Gray sky. It was old and abandoned, its
wood dark and weathered. Something about it made my skin
crawl, but I had to go inside. I had to know.
I pushed open the creaky door and stepped in.
The air inside was musty and stale, like no one had been here
in years. The floor was covered in dust
and leaves, and broken furniture was scattered around.
As I looked around, I saw marks on the walls, deep scratches,
like something with claws had been here.
My stomach twisted. I climbed the stairs to the
second level, my heart pounding louder with each step.
At the top, I found a small room, and in the middle of it
was something that made my blood run cold.
Tristan's watch, the one Grandpa had given him.
I picked it up, my hands shaking.
It was broken, the glass face shattered.
What had happened here? Suddenly, the wind outside
picked up, howling around the tower.
I heard a noise like a low growl coming from somewhere in the
woods. I froze, straining to hear it
again, but all I could hear was the wind.
I backed away from the window, trying to calm my racing heart.
Then there was a loud bang from downstairs.
I jumped, almost dropping the watch.
My mind was racing. Was it just the wind, or was
something else out there? I gripped the silver dagger the
shaman had given me, trying to steady my nerves.
I crept down the stairs, every muscle in my body tense.
When I reached the bottom, I saw the door had blown open,
slamming against the wall. I stepped outside, scanning the
tree line, but all I saw was darkness and fog.
Then I heard it again, the growl, closer this time.
My breath caught in my throat. I turned around, and that's when
I saw it. A figure standing at the edge of
the clearing, half hidden by the fog.
It was tall and hunched, its eyes glowing a sickly yellow.
It stared at me, and I felt a wave of pure terror wash over
me. The figure took a step closer,
and I stumbled back, raising the dagger in front of me.
Stay back. I shouted, my voice shaking, but
it didn't listen. It moved closer, its eyes never
leaving mine. I could see it clearly now, and
it was worse than I could have ever imagined.
Its skin was stretched tight over its bones, and its mouth
was twisted into a gruesome grin, showing rows of sharp,
jagged teeth. It opened its mouth and let out
a sound that was half growl, half laugh.
Tristan. It hissed, its voice a horrible
mix of human and something else. I remember him.
He tasted delicious. Rage and fear boiled up inside
me. You're lying, I screamed,
lunging at it with the dagger. But it moved faster than
anything I'd ever seen, dodging out of the way.
It circled around me, laughing, its eyes glowing brighter.
You came all this way to find the truth, it said.
Well, here it is. I'm the truth, and now you're
mine. I backed up, my heart pounding
in my ears. I had to get out of here, but
there was nowhere to run. The storm was closing in, the
wind whipping around us. I gripped the dagger tighter,
preparing to fight. I didn't know if I could win,
but I had to try for Tristan. The creature lunged at me, and I
swung the dagger with all my strength.
It let out a shriek as the silver blade sliced into its
flesh, and I felt a surge of hope.
Maybe I could beat this thing. Maybe I could survive.
But as the storm raged on, I knew this was only the
beginning. The fight was far from over, and
the darkness was closing in. I stumbled back into town, my
clothes torn and my body aching from the fight.
The storm had finally passed, but the sky was still dark, the
sun hidden behind thick clouds. I felt numb, barely able to
process what had just happened. I had killed it, the Wendigo,
but something still didn't feel right.
I made my way to the shaman's cabin on the edge of town, my
legs trembling with each step. He was the only one who might
have answers. When I got there, I banged on
the door, my heart racing. The shaman opened the door
slowly, his eyes narrowing as he looked at me.
You've returned. He said, his voice calm but with
a hint of something else. Worry, maybe.
I killed it. I blurted out, my voice shaky.
The Wendigo, it's dead. The shaman's face darkened and
he stepped aside to let me in. I followed him into the small,
dimly lit room, my mind spinning.
You don't understand. He said quietly as he sat down.
By killing the Wendigo, you've taken on its curse.
I stared at him, my stomach dropping.
What are you talking about? He looked at me with sad, tired
eyes. The Wendigo is not just a
creature. It's a curse, a spirit of hunger
and madness. When you killed it, the spirit
didn't die, it moved on to you. No, I whispered, shaking my
head. That's not true, I don't feel
any different. The shaman sighed.
Not yet, but it's already begun. The hunger will start soon, and
then the changes. You must fight it, or it will
consume you. A chill ran through me.
I wanted to argue, to tell him he was wrong, but deep down I
could already feel it, A gnawing sensation in the pit of my
stomach, something dark and cold.
I swallowed hard, trying to push it down.
Is there a way to stop it? I asked, my voice barely above a
whisper. He nodded slowly.
There is one way you must take your own life before the
transformation is complete. It's the only way to break the
cycle. I felt like the room was
spinning. Was this really happening?
Could I really be turning into the very monster I had fought?
I looked down at my hands, expecting to see claws forming,
but they were still normal. For now.
I can't. I can't just give up.
I said, my voice trembling. There has to be another way.
The shaman's eyes softened. I'm sorry.
I wish there was, but once the curse takes hold, it cannot be
undone. You have to decide quickly,
before it's too late. I stood up, my legs feeling
weak. I couldn't stay here, I needed
to think, I needed to be alone. I need to go.
I muttered, heading for the door.
I need to figure this out. As I stepped outside, the cold
wind hit me like a slap in the face.
I looked around, the town, seeming even darker than before.
The hunger was growing, a small but steady whisper in the back
of my mind, urging me to give in, to feed.
I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts.
I wandered through the town, my mind racing with everything the
shaman had said. I couldn't believe it, but at
the same time, I couldn't ignore it.
What if he was right? What if I was becoming the very
thing I had haunted? I found myself at the edge of
the forest, staring into the darkness.
I could feel it calling to me, pulling me in.
I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to run into the woods
and disappear. I had to make a choice.
The shaman's words echoed in my mind.
You must take your own life before the transformation is
complete. Could I do it?
Could I end this before I became a monster?
A wave of nausea hit me, and I doubled over, gasping for
breath. The hunger was getting stronger,
the whispers louder. I needed to decide, and fast.
As I stood there, staring into the darkness, I realized
something terrifying. I didn't know if I could fight
it. I didn't know if I wanted to,
and that thought scared me more than anything else.
I turned away from the forest, the decision still looming over
me like a shadow. I wasn't ready to give up, not
yet, but I didn't know how long I could hold on.
And as I walked back into the town, I felt the darkness
closing in around me, the hunger growing stronger.
The cycle wasn't over, it was just beginning, and I was afraid
of what I might become. Every year on the 1st of
November, I perform my own little ritual.
It's nothing fancy, just a shot of whiskey.
It's the only drink I allow myself since my mom drank
herself to death. I can see the worry in my wife
Margaret's eyes, but she never asks why I do it.
She knows it's about something I'd rather not talk about
tonight. The whiskey burns as it goes
down, just like it always does. It brings back memories from a
long time ago. Memories I'd rather forget, but
they come back every November like clockwork.
Memories from when I was a forest Ranger in the Rocky
Mountains back in the fall of 1991.
I was young and thought nothing could scare me back then.
I was wrong. It was late in the season and
the trails were almost empty. Most visitors had left, probably
because of the storms that had been rolling through.
My boss told me to clear some of the paths after a big storm had
hit the area. The trees were down and branches
were everywhere. It was just me and Jack, my
fellow Ranger, out there most days.
One morning while we were at the Ranger station, a guy burst
through the door. He looked like he had seen a
ghost. His name was Carl Jensen and he
was a mess. His clothes were soaked, his
hair plastered to his forehead, and his eyes, those eyes were
wild with fear. He kept babbling, saying
something about it's still out there.
We couldn't make much sense of what he was saying.
After we calmed him down a bit, he started making more sense.
He had come all the way from Phoenix with his friends Mike
and Lisa. They were here to hike, just
like a lot of people do. But something went wrong.
His friends disappeared, vanished into thin air.
Carl was sure something took them.
He kept pointing at a spot on the map, a place deep in the
mountains, far from any marked trail.
Jack and I exchanged glances. It didn't make sense, but we
couldn't just ignore it. We had to check it out,
especially if there were two people missing.
We called in Sheriff Tom for backup, just in case.
This was more than we could handle.
Tom was a tough guy, someone you wanted around in a pinch.
Together we grabbed our gear and headed out, following Carl's
directions into the wild. The further we went, the quieter
it got. The trees closed in around us
and the lights seemed to fade. Even though it was only
afternoon, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was
watching us. I tried to focus on the trail,
but my mind kept wandering back to Carl's terrified face and
those words he kept repeating. It's still out there.
We walked for hours, and just when I thought maybe Carl had
been imagining things, we found it.
An old, crumbling hunting cabin hidden in the woods, like it had
been waiting for us. It was the kind of place you
wouldn't notice unless you were right on top of it.
We stood there for a moment, staring at the dark entrance.
I took a deep breath and stepped forward, my heart pounding in my
chest. We had no idea what we were
about to find inside, but whatever it was, I had a feeling
it would change everything. We set off into the forest,
following the path Carl had pointed out.
Sheriff Tom led the way, with Jack and me close behind.
Carl's story echoed in my mind, but I kept telling myself it was
just nerves. The trees around us were tall
and thick, their branches reaching out like fingers
blocking out the sun. The deeper we went, the darker
it got. Even though it was still
daytime, it felt like the woods were closing in on us.
There was this heavy, silent feeling that made the hair on
the back of my neck stand up. I tried to shake it off, but
every step felt like we were being pulled further away from
safety. I glanced over at Jack.
He had this determined look on his face, but I could tell he
was uneasy too. Tom kept his eyes on the trail
ahead, his hand resting on the gun at his side.
None of us spoke. It was like we didn't want to
break the quiet around us, Like we were afraid of what might
happen if we did. After what felt like hours, we
finally saw it. A small, rundown cabin hidden in
the trees. It looked like it had been
abandoned for years, maybe even decades.
The roof was sagging, and the walls were covered in Moss and
vines. I don't know why, but just
looking at it sent a chill down my spine.
It was like the cabin was waiting for us.
Jack stepped forward, pushing open the door.
It creaked loudly, echoing through the stillness inside.
It was dark and smelled of damp wood and something else,
something I couldn't quite place.
We lit our flashlights and stepped in one by one.
The floorboards creaked under our feet and dust filled the air
with every step we took. There were old hunting tools
scattered around, and on one wall there was a drawing.
It was made with charcoal, and it showed a figure, tall and
thin, with long, twisted limbs and a face that was more beast
than human. My stomach twisted as I looked
at it. I had heard stories about
creatures like this, but they were just that, stories.
But this drawing, it looked too real, like someone had seen this
thing with their own eyes. Tom cleared his throat, breaking
the silence. We should look around.
He said, his voice shaky. See if there's any sign of Mike
or Lisa. We spread out, searching the
cabin and the area around it. That's when we found him.
Mike. He was outside, leaning against
a tree, his body torn apart in a way that made me want to look
away and throw up. But it was his face that really
got to me. It was calm, peaceful even, like
he hadn't felt a thing. Jack cursed under his breath,
and Tom turned pale. None of us said anything for a
while. What could we say?
We had found one of them, but there was no sign of Lisa, and
we still didn't know what had happened.
But deep down I knew it wasn't something I could explain.
But I knew we weren't alone out here.
We headed back into the cabin, feeling the weight of what we
had just seen pressing down on us.
The wind started to pick up outside, howling through the
trees, but inside it was quiet. Too quiet.
I couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching us,
something that didn't want us here.
And as we sat there trying to figure out what to do next, I
couldn't help but think that maybe we had made a terrible
mistake coming out here. The wind outside howled louder,
rattling the old cabin walls. We sat in the middle of the
room, our backs to each other, trying to keep an eye on every
corner. My hands were shaking, but I
gripped my flashlight tightly, ready to use it as a weapon if I
had to. Sheriff Tom was whispering to
himself something about getting out of here alive.
Jack was the only one who seemed calm, though I could see the
tension in his eyes. Then we heard it, a creaking
sound coming from outside. My heart skipped a beat.
We all turned our heads toward the door.
The Lantern hanging on the porch began to sway, but there was no
wind. Something was moving out there,
something we couldn't see. The shadows seemed to stretch
and twist, making shapes that made my skin crawl.
Stay quiet. Jack whispered.
He slowly got up, moving toward the door.
I wanted to stop him, tell him it was too dangerous, but my
voice wouldn't work. I watched as he peeked through
the crack in the door. His face went pale, and he
turned back to us with wide eyes.
It's right outside. He said, barely loud enough for
us to hear. Before we could react, the door
burst open with a loud bang. Something huge and fast rushed
inside, slamming into Jack and dragging him out into the
darkness. Before we could even move, his
scream was cut short, leaving nothing but the sound of the
wind and the creaking of the door as it swung back and forth.
Tom and I stared at the empty doorway, frozen in fear.
My mind was racing, trying to make sense of what just
happened. It moved so fast, like a shadow
with claws and teeth. I felt sick, my stomach twisting
into knots. Jack was gone, just like that.
We need to barricade the door. Tom shouted, snapping me out of
my shock. We grabbed what we could, an old
table, a chair, some broken boards, and shoved them against
the door. Our hands were shaking so bad it
was hard to hold on to anything. My heart was pounding in my
chest, so loud I thought it might explode.
We backed into the corner of the room, keeping our eyes on the
door. For a moment it was quiet.
Then we heard it. A voice, Jack's voice, calling
out from the darkness. Help me, please help me, it
said, sounding weak and scared, but something about it was off.
The tone was all wrong, like someone was trying to copy his
voice but didn't quite know how. That's not Jack, I whispered,
more to myself than to Tom. The stories I'd heard about
creatures in the woods came flooding back, creatures that
could mimic voices to trick their prey.
My hands were cold with fear. The thing outside was trying to
lure us out. Tom looked at me, his eyes wide
with terror. What do we do?
He asked, his voice shaking. I didn't know what to say.
My mind was spinning, and all I could think about was getting
out of here alive. Then it hit me.
The creature's weakness was fire.
I grabbed the Lantern and some old rags lying in the corner.
We're going to burn it, I said, trying to sound braver than I
felt. Tom nodded, though I could see
he was terrified. We soaked the rags in Lantern
fuel, and I lit them with a match.
The flames flickered to life, casting long, dancing shadows on
the walls. The voice outside changed again,
this time sounding like a woman's.
Lisa's voice. Please help me, It pleaded.
My blood ran cold. It wasn't just a creature.
It was Lisa, twisted into this monster.
By whatever had happened to her out here.
I felt my resolve hardened. We couldn't save her, but we
could stop this thing from getting us.
We threw the flaming rags at the door, setting it ablaze.
The fire spread quickly, the heat pushing us back into the
corner. The creature outside screeched
in fury, its inhuman wail filling the night air.
We waited, hoping the flames would drive it away, but deep
down I knew this wasn't over, not by a long shot.
The flames spread fast, the heat scorching our faces as the cabin
caught fire. The wood crackled and popped,
and thick black smoke started to fill the room.
Tom and I had no choice, we had to get out of there before we
burned alive. But the thought of going outside
where that thing was waiting for us, made my blood run cold.
We have to move. I shouted over the roar of the
flames. Tom was already coughing, his
eyes red and watery from the smoke.
We grabbed what little gear we had left and made a break for
it, bursting out the back door and into the dark forest
outside. The air was cold and sharp, a
shocking contrast to the blazing heat of the cabin.
We stumbled over the roots and rocks, our legs heavy with fear
and exhaustion. I could hear the creature
screeching somewhere behind us, its cries filled with rage.
It wasn't done with us yet. Keep running.
I yelled at Tom, though I could barely breathe myself.
My heart was pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of
my chest. I didn't dare look back.
I couldn't. I was too scared of what I might
see. We ran blindly through the
trees, the light from the burning cabin casting eerie
shadows that twisted and moved like living things.
The ground was uneven, and I tripped more than once, catching
myself just before I fell. Every sound made me jump, the
snap of a twig, the rustle of leaves, even the pounding of my
own footsteps. Tom was ahead of me, moving
faster now that we were out in the open, but I could tell he
was just as scared as I was. He kept glancing over his
shoulder, his eyes wide with panic.
It felt like we were being chased by a nightmare, something
we couldn't escape no matter how fast we ran.
Then the forest around us grew quiet, unnaturally so.
The creature's cries had stopped, replaced by an eerie
silence that made my skin crawl. I skidded to a halt, grabbing
Tom's arm to stop him too. We stood there, gasping for
breath, listening. The only sound was the crackling
of the cabin burning in the distance.
Where is it? Tom whispered, his voice
shaking. I shook my head, not daring to
speak. I didn't know, and that was the
worst part. It could be anywhere, watching
us, waiting to strike. My eyes darted around the
darkness, trying to catch a glimpse of movement, but there
was nothing. Just shadows and the flicker of
fire light far behind us. For a split second I thought
maybe we had escaped, that maybe the fire had scared it off.
But deep down I knew better. This thing wasn't scared of
anything, not even fire. It was still out there, hiding,
bidding. It's time, let's keep moving.
I said finally, my voice barely a whisper.
We turned and started walking, slower this time, every step
feeling like it could be our last.
My nerves were on edge, every muscle in my body tense and
ready to run at the slightest hint of danger.
But we made it, somehow. We stumbled out of the forest
and into the clearing near the Ranger station.
I could see the lights in the distance, a beacon of safety
after the nightmare we had just lived through.
We ran the last stretch, our legs heavy and our hearts
racing. We burst through the door of the
station, startling the few Rangers who were still there.
They stared at us in shock as we collapsed to the floor, gasping
for breath. Tom was babbling, trying to
explain what had happened, but none of them understood.
How could they? We barely understood it
ourselves. The next day, a search party
went back to the cabin. They found the place burned to
the ground, with nothing left but ashes and charred wood.
Jack's remains were found outside, but there was no sign
of Lisa. No creature.
Just empty woods and silence. They called it an accident, said
we must have gotten lost and panicked.
But I know the truth. I saw it with my own eyes.
It wasn't an accident, and we weren't just lost.
There's something out there in those woods, something that
shouldn't exist. Even now, as I sit here with my
shot of whiskey, I can't forget. I hear the whispers at night,
feel the eyes watching me from the shadows.
I know it's still out there, waiting, and one day it might
come back. The thought sends a chill down
my spine, a reminder that no matter how far I run, some
nightmares never end. The road to Timber Ridge was
lined with trees, their leaves a mix of red, orange, and yellow.
It was beautiful, almost peaceful, and for a moment it
was easy to forget why we were all there.
A low, the one who brought us all together, said this would be
our last camping trip before winter hit.
I could tell everyone was excited, but there was a hint of
something else in the air too, something I couldn't quite put
my finger on. We arrived at the campsite just
as the sun was dipping behind the hills.
It was the perfect spot, a little clearing surrounded by
tall trees with a view of the valley below.
The air was crisp but not too cold, and you could hear the
rustling of leaves as the wind whispered through the branches.
We set up our tents, laughing and joking the whole time.
Sam and Mason were already trying to outdo each other,
racing to see who could get their tent up first.
Andy was making a fire pit while Logan struggled with the cooler,
swearing under his breath as he wrestled with the stubborn lid.
Alo had this way of making everything feel like an
adventure, and today was no different.
He let us all in a cheer once the camp was set up and we
settled down around the fire. We grilled hot dogs and roasted
marshmallows, sharing stories and laughing until our sides
hurt. It was almost like we were kids
again, and for a while everything felt normal.
But as the sunset and darkness crept in, the mood began to
change. It wasn't anything obvious, just
little things that didn't seem right.
The air got colder, and the forest around us seemed to go
quiet. I could have sworn I heard
something in the distance, a faint sound, almost like
laughter. I glanced at the others, but
they didn't seem to notice, or maybe they just didn't want to.
Did you hear that? I finally asked, breaking the
silence. Everyone turned to look at me.
Hear what? Mason said, his voice steady but
his eyes darting around. I don't know, just something
weird, like laughing. I felt silly saying it out loud,
but I couldn't shake the feeling that we weren't alone.
Halo chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.
It's probably just an animal or something.
We're in the middle of the woods, remember?
There are all kinds of creepy noises out here.
We all laughed, but it was forced, like we were trying to
convince ourselves that everything was OK.
We went back to telling stories and joking around, but that
feeling of unease stayed with me.
It was like the woods were watching us waiting.
As the night went on, the noises got louder.
This time, we all heard it. It wasn't just laughter anymore.
There were screams and a howling sound that sent chills down my
spine. We all fell silent, straining
our ears to hear more. The wind picked up, rustling the
leaves around us, but the sounds seemed to come from deeper in
the forest. We told ourselves it was just
our imagination, or maybe it was the drinks we'd had earlier.
But deep down, I knew that something wasn't right.
The shadows around the campfire seemed to stretch longer,
reaching out toward us as if they had a mind of their own.
I thought about suggesting we pack up and leave, but before I
could say anything, Alo stood up.
I'm going to grab some more firewood.
He said, his voice a little too loud, a little too cheerful.
As he walked off into the darkness, I had this sinking
feeling in my gut. Something was out there, and it
was watching us. The darkness wrapped around our
camp like a heavy blanket. The fire crackled and popped,
but it didn't seem as warm or bright as before.
We all sat there, staring into the flames, trying to pretend we
weren't nervous. Every little sound made me jump,
twigs snapping, leaves rustling, but none of us wanted to be the
first to admit that we were scared.
Alo had been gone for a while now, and I started to worry.
I thought about calling out to him, but something stopped me.
It was like a voice in my head, telling me to stay quiet, to not
draw any attention. My heart was pounding and I
could feel the others were on edge too.
Suddenly, a loud laugh echoed through the woods, not far from
our camp. It wasn't a happy laugh, it was
the kind that made your skin crawl.
We all looked at each other, eyes wide.
This was no animal, this was something else.
Did you guys hear that? Sam whispered, his voice
shaking. We nodded.
There was no denying it now. Something was out there,
something that shouldn't be. We need to find a low.
Mason said, his voice barely above a whisper.
He's been gone too long. Before we could decide what to
do, we heard footsteps, slow and heavy, coming closer.
I held my breath, straining my eyes to see past the flickering
fire light. Then, at the edge of the camp,
just within the circle of light, a figure appeared.
It was an old woman. Her hair was long and tangled,
hanging around her face like a curtain.
She wore a tattered dress that looked like it hadn't been
washed in years. But it was her face that
terrified me the most. Her grin stretched unnaturally
wide, like her mouth was too big for her face.
And her eyes, oh God, her eyes were just dark, empty voids.
We all froze. No one said a word.
We just stared at her, too scared to move or even breathe.
Hello. Andy called out, his voice
shaky. Can we help you?
The old woman didn't answer. She just stood there, muttering
something under her breath. It sounded like gibberish, words
that didn't make sense, but there was something in her tone
that made my blood run cold. It was like she was casting a
spell or something. Ma'am, are you OK?
Logan tried, stepping forward a little.
Do you need help? She stopped muttering and looked
at him. Or threw him.
Her grin widened and I felt like the ground was going to swallow
me whole. And then it happened.
Without warning, Sam, Mason, and Andy screamed.
Their screams were like nothing I'd ever heard.
Pure agony and terror. I turned to look at them, and
what I saw will haunt me forever.
Flames erupted from their bodies, scorching their clothes
and skin. They flailed and writhed, but
the fire didn't burn like normal fire.
It was like their skin was boiling.
Blistering and peeling away as they crumbled to the ground in
piles of ash. I couldn't move, I couldn't
breathe. All I could do was watch in
horror as my friends were reduced to nothing but ashes,
scattered by the wind. Logan and I stood there, frozen
in place, unable to process what was happening.
The old woman stepped closer, her grin never faltering.
She raised a hand and pointed at Logan, her eyes gleaming with
dark power. I wanted to scream, to run, to
do anything, but my legs wouldn't listen.
Just then, a monstrous figure emerged from the woods behind
her, towering and grotesque, a blend of a giant and a deer,
with massive antlers and a hulking, muscular body.
It was a Wendigo, a creature from nightmares, and it was
here, in front of us. The last thing I heard was
Logan's scream before I turned and ran, my heart pounding in my
chest. The sounds of their screams and
the old woman's laughter chased me into the dark woods, and I
knew nothing would ever be the same again.
I ran blindly through the forest, my heart pounding in my
ears. Branches scratched my face and
roots tried to trip me up, but I didn't care.
I had to get away. Behind me, I could still hear
Logan's screams echoing through the trees.
It was like the woods were alive with the sound of his agony
taunting me, reminding me that I left him behind.
But what could I have done? My mind raced with questions and
guilt, but I knew one thing for sure.
I couldn't have saved him, not from that thing.
I stopped gasping for breath and hid behind a tree.
My whole body shook and I fought the urge to vomit.
What was that creature? It wasn't human, that much was
clear. I peeked around the tree, trying
to see if it was following me, but all I saw were shadows
stretching out in the dark, their shapes twisting and
turning like they were alive. Then I heard it.
A low growling sound, like an animal, but much, much worse.
It sent shivers down my spine, and I pressed my back against
the tree, hoping it would hide me.
I held my breath, listening. The growling came closer, and
with it the sound of heavy footsteps.
Each step made the ground shake slightly, like a giant was
walking through the woods. I dared to look again, and there
it was, the Wendigo. It was even more horrifying up
close, with its massive antlers reaching up toward the sky and
its body covered in matted fur and twisted muscles.
Its eyes glowed in the dark, scanning the forest like it was
searching for something or someone for me.
Suddenly, it stopped and sniffed the air, it's head turning in my
direction. I froze, my heart hammering so
hard I thought it would give me away.
The wendigo's mouth opened, revealing rows of sharp teeth,
and it let out a bone chilling scream.
I bit my lip to keep from crying out, tears streaming down my
face. This was it, it had found me.
Just then, a loud roar filled the air, different from the
wendigo's scream. It was the roar of a motorcycle
engine, cutting through the silence of the forest.
The Wendigo turned its head toward the sound, and for a
second, it seemed scared. I blinked, not sure if I was
dreaming or not, but then I saw him.
A man on a motorcycle burst into the clearing, his bike roaring
like a beast. He wore a gas mask, his face
hidden, and carried a shotgun strapped to his back.
At his side was a huge, fierce looking wolf, its eyes locked
onto the Wendigo. The man didn't hesitate.
He pulled the shotgun from his back, aimed, and fired.
The blast echoed through the forest, and the Wendigo howled
in pain. It staggered back, but it wasn't
done yet. The wolf sprang into action,
leaping at the monster, teeth bared.
The two creatures collided in a vicious battle, snarling and
snapping at each other. The man kept firing at the
Wendigo, driving it further back.
The old woman appeared again, her face twisted in rage.
She raised her hands, dark energy swirling around her, but
the man was ready. He aimed his gun at her and
fired, each shot forcing her to retreat.
She screamed in fury, her voice high and shrill, but she
couldn't match the man's power. Run.
The man shouted at me, his voice muffled by the gas mask but full
of authority. Get out of here now.
I didn't need to be told twice. I turned and ran, not daring to
look back. The sounds of the fight faded
behind me, replaced by the pounding of my own footsteps and
the rush of blood in my ears. I stumbled and fell, scrambling
to get back up, my mind screaming at me to keep going.
As I ran, I realized something. I wasn't just running from the
Wendigo or the Witch. I was running from the truth,
from the horror of what I'd seen.
I didn't know if I'd ever be able to forget it, if I'd ever
feel safe again. But I had to try.
I had to survive. I ran like my life depended on
it, because it did. The forest around me was a blur
of shadows and twisted branches. Every muscle in my body burned,
but I couldn't stop. I could still hear the sounds of
the battle behind me, the growls of the wolf, the gunshots, and
the wendigo's screams. They grew fainter as I put more
distance between us, but that didn't make them any less
terrifying. My foot caught on a root and I
went down hard, scraping my hands on the rocky ground.
I bit back a cry, fear making my heart race even faster.
I lay there for a moment, gasping for breath, trying to
calm the wild beating of my heart, but there was no time.
I had to get up, I had to keep moving.
I scrambled to my feet, every part of me screaming to just
give up, but I couldn't. I wouldn't.
I burst out of the trees and found myself on the gravel Rd.
where we had parked our car. My car.
It was there, just a few yards away.
I fumble for my keys, my fingers shaking so badly I almost
dropped them Behind me. The woods were still dark and
silent, but I knew they weren't empty.
I knew what was lurking in the shadows.
I glanced back one last time, and my heart nearly stopped.
In the distance, back where the campsite was, I saw them.
The Wendigo, still towering and monstrous, locked in a brutal
fight with the wolf. The man with the gas mask stood
between them and the old woman, his shotgun raised.
The witch was screaming, her voice carrying on the wind like
a curse. Her eyes found me even from that
far away, and I felt a chill go through me.
She knew I was there. She knew I was escaping.
The man fired his shotgun again, and the witch stumbled back, her
dark power faltering. The Wendigo roared, the wolf's
teeth sinking into its shoulder, dragging it to the ground.
I had no idea who this man was, or how he and his wolf could
fight these monsters, but they were my only chance.
I didn't wait to see what happened next.
I yanked the car door open, jumped inside, and jammed the
key into the ignition. The engine roared to life and I
floored the gas pedal, gravel flying up behind me as I speed
down the road. My hands were shaking so hard I
could barely keep the wheel steady, but I didn't care.
I just had to get away. As I drove, the sounds of the
forest faded, replaced by the steady hum of the car engine and
the rapid thumping of my heart. I tried to make sense of what
had happened, but it was like trying to piece together a
nightmare. My friends were gone, burned,
killed by some ancient evil that I didn't understand.
I wanted to scream, to cry, to do something, but I was numb.
My mind kept replaying the images.
Sam, Mason and Andy bursting into flames.
Logan being torn apart. Aylo's face as he realized we
were in over our heads. And that creature, that thing
with antlers that came out of the woods like it had been
summoned from the darkest part of a nightmare.
I glanced in the rearview mirror, half expecting to see
the Wendigo charging after me, but there was nothing, just the
dark, empty Rd. stretching behind me.
I let out a shaky breath, but then my eyes caught something
else. For just a split second, I saw a
figure, a shadowy shape with glowing eyes, standing on the
road where I had just driven. It was watching me, and even
though it wasn't moving, I could feel its presence reaching out
like it was marking me, like it wasn't done with me yet.
I blinked and it was gone. Just my imagination, I told
myself. Just my mind playing tricks
after everything I'd seen. But deep down I knew it wasn't
over, not by a long shot. I didn't stop driving until I
reached the nearest town. I stumbled into the police
station, trying to explain what had happened, but my words came
out jumbled and panicked. I knew they wouldn't believe me.
Who would? But I had to try.
I had to tell someone. As I sat there waiting for
someone to listen, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was
still being watched. That somewhere out there in the
dark woods, those creatures were waiting, and that the next time
I might not be so lucky. People don't really understand
what hunger means. They think it's just about
needing food when you're hungry. But my grandfather always told
me that hunger is something more, something darker.
He used to say that hunger could turn into a monster, one that's
always waiting, always watching, especially in the deep forests
of the north. It wasn't just the kind of
hunger that made your stomach growl.
This hunger was evil. Grandpa had a story he would
tell, one that scared all of us, no matter how many times we
heard it. It was about a creature called
the Wendigo. He said this creature was more
than just a legend. It was a real thing that lived
in the cold, dark woods. He told us that the Wendigo was
always hungry, never satisfied, no matter how much it ate.
That's why our family never went into the northern forest during
winter. We were all too afraid of what
might be lurking there. When Grandpa was young, he went
on a trip to Pine Valley with his brother.
It was the middle of winter and everything was covered in snow.
The trees were huge and looked like they touched the sky.
It was beautiful in a way that made you forget how dangerous
the woods could be. At first, everything seemed
perfect. The sun was shining and they saw
deer and rabbits running around. They felt like they were in some
kind of winter Wonderland. But as the day went on, things
started to change. The sun went down and the forest
got really quiet. It was too quiet, like the
animals knew something bad was coming.
Grandpa said it was like the whole forest was holding its
breath. Then it got cold.
Really cold. Not the kind of cold where you
just need a thicker jacket, but the kind that makes your bones
hurt. They should have turned back
then, but they didn't. They decided to keep going,
thinking they could handle whatever the woods threw at
them. Grandpa said they weren't scared
of anything back then, but that was before they heard the
scream. It wasn't like any animal they
knew. It was high pitched and
haunting, echoing through the trees.
They tried to tell themselves it was just the wind, but they knew
that wasn't true. As they kept walking, they felt
like they were being watched. They couldn't see anything, but
they knew something was out there.
The trees seemed to close in around them and the shadows grew
longer. Every snap of a twig made them
jump. Grandpa's brother joked that
they were just spooking themselves, but Grandpa wasn't
so sure. He felt a chill run down his
spine, like something was breathing down his neck.
Then they saw it. Just a glimpse between the
trees. A tall, skinny figure with eyes
that glowed in the dark. Grandpa tried to convince
himself it was just a trick of the light, but deep down he knew
what it was. It was the Wendigo, the monster
from the stories, and it was hungry.
They stopped, frozen in place, not sure what to do.
The figure moved closer, its steps slow and deliberate.
Grandpa could see it better now, a gaunt face, hollow eyes, and
antlers that looked almost human.
It was like nothing he had ever seen, and he knew they were in
serious danger. As night fell, the forest around
us changed. What had seemed beautiful and
magical during the day turned into something dark and scary.
The trees that had looked so tall and peaceful now seem to
close in on us, their branches reaching out like claws.
It felt like the whole forest was watching us, waiting for
something. We should head back.
I said to my brother, but he shook his head.
It's just the dark messing with us.
He replied, trying to sound brave.
We've been out here 100 times. I nodded, but something didn't
feel right. The air was so cold, colder than
anything I'd ever felt. It wasn't just a chill, it was
like the cold was alive, wrapping around us and squeezing
tight. I pulled my coat closer and
tried to ignore the way my breath hung in the air like a
ghost. Then we heard it, A scream that
made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
It wasn't an animal. It wasn't human either.
It was something in between, a sound that echoed through the
trees and made my blood run cold.
My brother and I froze, our eyes scanning the darkness around us.
What was that? I whispered, my voice trembling.
I don't know, My brother said, but I could hear the fear in his
voice. He didn't sound so brave
anymore. We stood there for what felt
like hours, straining to hear any other sounds.
But the forest had gone completely silent.
Not even the wind was blowing. It was like everything had
stopped to listen. Then, out of the corner of my
eye, I saw something move. Did you see that?
I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
My brother nodded, his eyes wide.
Yeah, I saw it. It was a figure moving between
the trees, tall and thin. It moved so fast that I almost
thought I was imagining it. But then I saw it again, closer
this time. It was tall and skinny, with
arms that were too long and a head that was all wrong.
And its eyes, they glowed in the dark, staring right at us.
We need to go. I said, my heart pounding in my
chest. My brother nodded, but we were
both too scared to move. The figure kept getting closer,
moving silently through the trees.
It stopped just a few feet away from us, and now I could see it
clearly. It was like a nightmare come to
life. It had antlers, but they were
twisted and broken. Its skin was stretched tight
over its bones, and its eyes were hollow and black, like 2
empty pits. It opened its mouth, and I
thought it was going to scream again, but it didn't.
Instead, it just stood there, staring at us with those
horrible eyes. I felt like I couldn't breathe,
like the air itself was being sucked out of my lungs.
My brother grabbed my arm, snapping me out of my trance.
Run. He shouted, pulling me with him.
We took off through the forest, our feet slipping on the snow
and ice. I could hear it behind us,
moving faster than any human could.
I didn't dare look back. I just kept running, my heart
pounding so hard I thought it might burst.
We stumbled and tripped, branches scratching our faces
and grabbing at our clothes. The cold air burned my lungs,
but I didn't stop. We had to get away.
We had to escape. But no matter how fast we ran,
the thing behind us was faster. It was getting closer, and I
knew there was no way we could outrun it.
Then my brother fell. I turned back to help him, but
it was too late. The creature was already there,
looming over him, its eyes glowing in the darkness.
I wanted to scream, to fight, to do something, but I was frozen
in place, too scared to move. The last thing I saw was my
brother's terrified face before the creature lunged at him, its
mouth opening wide to reveal rows of sharp yellow teeth.
I turned and ran, the sound of my brother's screams echoing in
my ears. Knowing I was leaving him
behind. I ran as fast as I could,
branches whipping at my face, snow crunching under my boots.
My brother's screams echoed in my ears, mixing with the
pounding of my heart. I didn't know where I was going.
I just had to get away. I had to escape that thing, that
monster, the Wendigo. It felt like the forest was
closing in around me, the trees twisting and bending to block my
path. The darkness was so thick that I
could barely see where I was going.
My flashlight had fallen when I ran, leaving me in almost
complete darkness. I stumbled over roots and rocks,
but I didn't stop. I couldn't.
The creature was behind me. I could feel it, a cold presence
chasing me through the trees. I didn't dare look back.
Every part of me was screaming to just keep running, to put as
much distance between me and that thing as possible.
But no matter how fast I ran, I knew it was still there,
following me. Its footsteps were silent, but
its presence was like an icy hand on the back of my neck,
urging me to keep moving. I didn't know how long I ran.
Time seemed to stretch and twist in the dark.
Minutes felt like hours, and every second was filled with
terror. My lungs burned and my legs
ached, but I couldn't stop. I kept hearing my brother's
screams in my head, mixed with the memory of that horrible
creature. Finally, I saw a break in the
trees up ahead. I stumbled into a clearing,
collapsing onto the ground, gasping for breath.
For a moment, I thought I was safe.
Maybe I had lost it. Maybe the Wendigo was gone.
But as I lay there, the coldness around me deepened.
I looked up, and my blood turned to ice.
It was there, at the edge of the clearing, standing among the
trees. Its hollow eyes stared at me,
glowing faintly in the dark. I wanted to scream, but no sound
came out. I was too scared to move, too
scared to even breathe. It just stood there, watching
me, like it was waiting for something.
I fumble for the small pistol my brother had insisted we bring,
my hands shaking so badly I could barely hold it.
I pointed it at the creature, my finger on the trigger.
Stay back. I shouted, though my voice was
barely more than a whisper. The Wendigo didn't move, it just
stared at me with those empty eyes.
I fired. The shot rang out, echoing
through the forest. The Wendigo let out a scream, a
sound so terrible it made my skin crawl.
It wasn't just its scream. It was like 1000 voices all
crying out at once, voices full of pain and hunger and anger.
I heard my brother's voice in that scream, and it nearly broke
me. The creature staggered back,
clutching its shoulder where I had hit it.
For a second I thought maybe I had heard it, maybe I could
escape, but then it started to move again, its body twisting
and jerking in unnatural ways. It was like the bullet hadn't
even slowed it down. I realized then that there was
no escaping this thing. It was more than just a
creature. It was hunger itself, a force
that could never be stopped. I forced myself to my feet and
ran again, my whole body shaking with terror.
The forest was a blur around me, trees and shadows blending
together as I stumbled through the dark.
I didn't know where I was going, I just knew I had to keep
moving, keep running. My brother's screams echoed in
my mind, mixing with the sound of the creatures horrible cry.
I burst out of the trees and fell onto a snow covered Rd.
I lay there, gasping for breath, my body trembling with fear and
exhaustion. A car's headlights appeared in
the distance, and I waved my arms frantically, screaming for
help. The car screeched to a stop and
I was pulled inside. The driver was shouting, asking
what had happened, but I couldn't speak.
All I could do was point back towards the forest, where the
darkness still lingered like a heavy cloud.
As we drove away, I looked back one last time.
The Wendigo was gone, but I knew it was still out there somewhere
in the woods, always hungry, and I knew I would never be able to
forget what I had seen. The memory of its hollow eyes
and the sound of its terrible scream would haunt me forever.
Even though years have passed since that night, I can't shake
the feeling that it's not over. Grandpa was right about the
Wendigo. It wasn't just a monster in the
woods, it was something more, something that had a way of
getting into your head and making you feel its hunger.
I tried to forget it, to move on with my life, but every winter,
when the nights grow long and cold, I can feel it out there,
still watching, still waiting. Grandpa's warnings play in my
mind like a broken record, telling me to stay away from the
northern forests. But now, standing at the edge of
the very woods that nearly killed me, I can't turn back.
I have to know if it's still there, if it's still hunting.
Something inside me has to see it again, to know for sure if it
was real or just a nightmare. I take a deep breath and step
into the trees, my flashlight cutting a narrow path through
the darkness. The forest is silent, just like
before. Each step feels like it echoes,
as if the trees themselves are whispering my presence to the
thing that haunts these woods. The deeper I go, the colder it
gets. My breath fogs in front of me,
but it doesn't drift away. It just hangs there, frozen in
the air like a ghost. I feel the same chill crawling
up my spine, the same dread sinking into my bones.
I reached the old campsite where it all happened.
The snow has covered most of the signs of that night, but I can
still see the faint outline of where we had set up our tent,
where my brother had stood before the Wendigo took him.
The memories flood back and I have to fight the urge to turn
and run. But I came here for a reason.
I have to know if it's still out there.
The wind picks up, howling through the trees.
I hear a rustling sound and spin around, my flashlight beam
darting across the trunks. There's nothing there, but I can
feel eyes on me, watching from the shadows.
My heart pounds in my chest, but I force myself to stay calm.
I can't run now, not again. Then, from the darkness, I hear
it, a faint whisper, like the rustling of leaves.
It's my brother's voice, calling my name.
My blood turns to ice. I know it can't be him, but I
hear it, clear as day. Come closer.
It whispers, the words stretching and warping in the
cold air. I take a step back, my hands
shaking, the flashlight trembling in my grip.
A shape moves in the shadows, and there it is, just like
before. The Wendigo.
It's even more terrifying than I remember, its eyes glowing in
the dark, its body gaunt and twisted.
It steps forward, and I see the hunger in its eyes, the endless,
unquenchable hunger that will never stop.
It opens its mouth, but instead of the scream, I hear my
brother's voice again, mixed with others, all crying out from
deep inside the creature. I want to run, but my legs feel
like they're glued to the spot. The Wendigo moves closer, its
eyes boring into mine. I hear the whispers growing
louder, and I realize it's speaking to me in voices.
I know the voices of the people it's consumed.
My brother's voice is the loudest, telling me to run, to
get away, but I can't move. The creature stops just a few
feet from me, its eyes staring into mine.
Hunger never ends, It whispers, its voice a chilling mix of
every soul it's devoured. I know, then, that this isn't
just about me. The Wendigo doesn't just want to
kill. It wants to consume, to become
part of me, to make me part of its endless hunger.
I raise my flashlight, shining it directly into its eyes.
For a moment it recoils, the light cutting through the
darkness, but then it lets out a horrible, echoing scream that
makes my blood run cold. I turn and run, the sounds of
its cries following me through the forest.
I don't stop until I burst out of the woods and collapse onto
the snow covered ground. I look back, but the Wendigo is
gone. The forest is silent again, but
I know it's not over. It will never be over.
The Wendigo is still out there, always hunting, always hungry,
and no matter where I go, I know it will always be watching,
waiting for the chance to feed again.