The Wendigo

‘It was leaning over a carcass, tears off its flesh, and throws what it doesn’t nibble at aside. There’s blood all over the brick, glistening in the moonlight. It’s pale white. Human looking, but not quite human. It had arms and legs like a human, but it sat like a monkey, hunched over. And its hands weren’t normal; it had long fingers with claws at the end.’

‘So we see that, and my brother hesitates. He wasn’t about to fire on a person. So he clears his throat, to try get it to turn around.’

‘I swear to god, all the noise just ceased. I ain’t ever heard true silence before that, and not after it. But for two seconds, nothing, nothing, made any noise. Which made it all the louder when it turned around, made this shrill cry, and jumped Jeb.’

‘He got a shot off. I think he missed. If he hit the thing, it didn’t mind. But it was on him, tears parts of him off. I start shooting it with the flintlock, point blank, but it barely bled the thing. I got off three bullets, and then I started hitting it with the gun butt. But it wasn’t budging.’

‘It didn’t even register that I was there.’

‘It’s clawing at Jeb, taking off bits of his flesh. It starts on his torso, ripping off the skin, his chest, then it moves up. It tore off his throat, it tore off his nose, his eyes, it scalped him. Then it started digging in, ripped off the bottom half of his jaw, the little bones and that tube in the neck, then his ribs.’





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