- Two couples embark on a romantic trip during the winter months in the Rockies. After surviving a brutal car crash in the deep, forgotten part of the woodlands, the group found themselves being tracked by an ancient and non-negotiable evil that roamed the wilds. The long distance trip morphed into a bone chilling nightmare full of gore and ancient American lore. How long can they refuse the mysterious, malevolent beast that stalks them night after night in the dark woods? What will their answer be when the monstrous, cannibalistic Wendigo asks for them to join him for a feast?
-The overwhelming weight of grief can become unbearable for most people. We join a daring and depressed widower who has suffered from the loss of his wife and has decided to go on a deadly journey with hopes of seeing her again. With the aid of a mysterious individual, he learns about the legendary Gates of Hades, a place that is said to serve as a direct line of communication to the dead and a possible doorway to the afterlife. The outcome of his journey depends on how well he can confront the three headed hellspawn that awaits his arrival...
- Two couples embark on a romantic trip during the winter months in the Rockies. After surviving a brutal car crash in the deep, forgotten part of the woodlands, the group found themselves being tracked by an ancient and non-negotiable evil that roamed the wilds. The long distance trip morphed into a bone chilling nightmare full of gore and ancient American lore. How long can they refuse the mysterious, malevolent beast that stalks them night after night in the dark woods? What will their answer be when the monstrous, cannibalistic Wendigo asks for them to join him for a feast?
-The overwhelming weight of grief can become unbearable for most people. We join a daring and depressed widower who has suffered from the loss of his wife and has decided to go on a deadly journey with hopes of seeing her again. With the aid of a mysterious individual, he learns about the legendary Gates of Hades, a place that is said to serve as a direct line of communication to the dead and a possible doorway to the afterlife. The outcome of his journey depends on how well he can confront the three headed hellspawn that awaits his arrival...
I wasnât always thrilled by roadtrips. Ever since I was young, when my parents would take me on trips outside of my hometown, I would often get car sickness at some point along the way. I eventually grew out of that, but even as I got older, my distaste for the long hours of traffic jams and being in the same seat all day hadnât gone away.
Iâm grown now, and my girlfriend, Sahrye, was fond of going on trips. Ever since weâd been dating during our early college years, she had been telling me about how much she longed to explore the outdoors. The thing is, when she said âoutdoors,â she didnât just mean going on long walks in the park or simple bird watching. Think of your stereotypical bungee-jumping, back-flipping into a community lake, daredevil type of girlfriend. That was my Sahrye.
Now, most people would wonder how an adventurous chick like her would match up with someone like me, a person who prefers the security of their own home and the familiarity of the city they reside in. Most people would think of me as the exact opposite of an adventurous risk taker. Honestly, I wish I knew why we were so inseparable yet so different in tastes and activities. We first met at a library where I spent most of my freetime in college, even when I wasnât studying. Other than reading and debating people on online forums, my recreational time would otherwise be spent on video games, which just so happened to be an activity we both enjoyed. So when I first asked her out in the library, I asked for her gamer tag and we played online and talked for a while. Before I knew it, we were a couple.
Of course, it was just a matter of time before I had to respect Sahryeâs desires to go on more adventurous activities, even if it meant leaving my shell. Honestly, despite not being into leaving my hometown to go on strange and dangerous trips, I didnât have any regrets as long as she was with me. For the past two years, Sahrye used her sweet, persuasive voice to talk me into going on the most bizarre trips Iâd never imagined myself doing. For example, last year we went off-road racing in Moab, Utah, where we rented a couple of UTVs and drove around in the dry, rocky desert region. A wild bumpy ride across sand, rocks, and hills was insane enough for me, but it wasnât enough for Sahrye. She urged me to race with her at top speeds through the rest of the trail. The guide who rode with us advised against it, but before we knew it, we were both driving at top speeds in the dirt, laughing while our heads and bodies bounced around in our jeeps as we blasted across the trail.
There was also a time when we went fishing in the Everglades, which I thought would be a fun experience until I learned that the waters had pythons and alligators. When I found my fishing line entangled with a large black snake, my soul nearly left my body. Luckily, the snake managed to free itself from the line and slithered back into the water. Sahrye noted that the snake wasn't even venomous and was likely more afraid of me than I was of it. We had a damn good laugh that day.
It was adventures like these that strengthened our bond and eventually broke me away from my disdain of traveling. So when me and Sahrye decided it was time for a new adventure, I came up with the idea to go on a road trip into Montana. There was a hot springs resort that Iâd been looking at online. The hotels in the area had decent pools, large clean rooms, and plenty of activities for us to enjoy, like horseback riding and hiking. Itâs the perfect trip idea, I thought at first. However, when I brought the idea up to her, she almost reluctantly revealed a detail that sheâd forgotten to include. She wanted to invite her childhood friend, Clare and her fiancĂ©, Wyatt. Now, donât get me wrong, I didnât mind having extra companions on our trips, although we had never actually done that before. But as I mentioned, the trip was meant to help me and her bond, not to share the experience with other people, especially those whom Iâd never met. I gave it some thought and after looking into her sparkling, brown, pleading eyes, I folded.
The next thing I knew, there I was piled into a large rental van with Sahrye, Clare and Wyatt, who drove most of the way. According to Google, the ride was a little over twelve hours, with plenty of mountainous roads and forests along the way. We decided to take turns driving until we were all too tired to drive and then one of us would look for a motel to sleep at until the next morning. I started the first three and a half hours of driving, getting us out of the early morning traffic of Aurora, Colorado.
Sahrye took the wheel for an hour before we stopped for lunch at a diner in central Wyoming. Afterward, Wyatt took the wheel and knocked out a good five hours while Clare volunteered as the vanâs DJ. She selected through her playlists which, I hate to admit, I actually enjoyed most of the time. Other than that, we all chatted about our lives, our hobbies, and everything we had to look forward to once we arrived in Montana. After Wyatt managed to knock off five hours of driving, we all looked to Clare to take her turn at the wheel. Unfortunately, according to her, she was too fatigued from staying awake the whole time DJing.
We spent that evening looking for a motel that was cheap enough to not make a dent in our travel budget, yet had a decent rating that didnât mention anything about murders, theft, or credit card scams being common in the area. Sahrye managed to find one motel that was a little over fifty bucks a night, which was just enough for us to split and pay for together. We ended up getting one room with two beds. Clare inspected the sheets and said they looked clean enough to sleep in, meaning there were no visible blood or shit stains anywhere. At one point, Wyatt went to check inside the small fridge underneath the television stand. He looked briefly at the girls, who were busy conversing as they dug around through their bags. He then turned to me and whispered, âHey, Aaron.â
I turned and noticed he made a slight head motion, telling me to check out something in the fridge. I calmly made my way over and looked inside and was grossed out by what we found. It was a large cockroach that seemed to be squashed and smeared in its own remains and gunk. A blob of legs, wings, and brown slime was in the center of the bottom of the fridge. I took a piece of tissue and wiped up the dead bug and flushed it down the toilet. Me and Wyatt agreed to not let the girls know about what we found, and to make sure all of our bags remain closed for the rest of the night.
After ordering some wings and fries and a few sodas, we ate and went straight to bed. Wyatt and Clare almost immediately fell asleep as their heads hit the pillow, while me and Sahrye stayed up for a little while longer. Sahrye looked at her phone while I swiped away on mine, gazing at social media. Suddenly, Sahrye sucked her teeth and said, âFuck!â
âWhatâs up?â I asked, concerned and low-key hoping she hadn't found a roach crawling on the bed. Although she was usually the brave one during our trips, she was usually the first to leave the room at the sight of a roach or a spider. When I looked over at her, her eyes were still glued to her phone screen, but I knew from the worried expression on her face that something was definitely wrong.
âThe forecast says thereâs a snow storm coming from the northwest,â she said disappointed. âAt least five to six inches by noon.â She tilted the phone toward me so I could see. Sure enough, the screen showed a map of Wyoming and Montana being engulfed in a wave of blue, indicating that a large mass of wintry storms was heading our way. I noticed the time of expectancy was showing that the storm would be on our route by noon the next day.
âWe got plenty of time,â I said, turning my phone off and turning over to sleep.
âI donât know, Aaron,â Sahrye sighed. âThis storm looks like itâs gonna be nasty. Maybe we should chill here for an extra night. We got the money, and I know Clare and Wyatt wonât mind.â
âOrâŠwe can just get up a little early, beat the storm, and check in at the resort just as the storm touches down.â My eyes were closed when I made my suggestion, but I could tell by Sahryeâs silence that she had doubts about my plan.
We all woke at the crack of dawn and I spoke with Clare and Wyatt about the storm. They were hesitant at first, but after learning that we were only a few hours from our destination, they agreed with my plan to leave early. Wyatt offered to drive the remaining hours, since he was better at driving long distances than the rest of us. I told him I didnât mind and that I would take the wheel as soon as he got tired.
The road was dry that morning and the traffic was moderate, so my plan to make it to the resort seemed like it would go smoothly. That all changed only an hour later. The trouble started when we received alerts on the GPS about an accident involving two cars and an eighteen-wheeler. Apparently one of the four wheelers switched lanes at the worst time possible and collided with another car. Worse, the second car abruptly braked upon collision while a semi-truck drove behind it. Then the semi crashed against the second vehicle, causing it to lose control and crash into the median. The alerts warned that the delay would take hours to get through.
Clare began looking up new routes to go around the five-mile traffic jam that followed the accident. She found one that would add another hour to our drive but would allow us to avoid the traffic jam before it got worse. The route was an old highway with very few fuel stops and towns, but we all agreed it was the only alternative to being stuck on the interstate.
Wyatt switched the route on the GPS and followed an exit off the interstate toward the alternate route. Worry began to set in when the clouds started to thicken and the GPS directed us to a dense wooded road with two lanes. We noticed the fewer number of cars that passed us. Eventually, it was like we were the only travelers on the road for miles. Just as anxiety got a hold of us all, snow began to fall. At first, there were a few gusts of flurries that brushed gently along the vanâs windshield and disappeared. Then we were met with a white mass that looked like a wall. Wyatt gently pressed the brakes as the wall of snow swallowed us.
Clare told Wyatt to turn his high beams on, although they were no match for the incoming barrage of snow that blasted the van. Ice and slush accumulated along the sides of the windshield and the windows. I sat in the back seat next to Sahrye, who looked outside at the clumps of ice that grew on the window, blocking the view. I looked forward to the windshield. Although Wyatt tried his best to look calm, I could tell by his slight, jerky hand motions that he struggled to keep the van in the lane. The road was completely white now, and it was impossible to tell if it was still two lanes.
âSlow down, babe,â Clare cried nervously. Wyatt looked on and ignored her as he tried to keep the van steady. The winds continued to howl and pick up, pushing and rocking the van as we rode down the winding path through the woods.
Suddenly Wyatt yelled, âShit!â before braking abruptly. Clare yelped as she held to her seat. I felt the van skid for a moment before it finally stopped in the road.
âWyatt,â I called out,âwhatâs going on?â He said nothing, but I could hear him breathing heavily as he looked in front of him. To our dismay, a massive snow-covered tree lay across the center of the road. Broken branches and shattered chips proved that the incident just happened.
âWe canât stay here,â Sahrye said with a quiver in her voice. She sounded genuinely scared and I didnât blame her. I gently reached over for her hand and closed mine around it. It was shaking. Alot. I held it firmly to reassure her and I called up to the front seat.
âH-hey, maybe we should turn around.â I realized I was stammering, which meant my suggestion wasnât convincing at all.
Sahrye pulled out her phone and began typing. âThereâs gotta be a safe way back. Iâm looking for another route.â
I started to pull out my phone when something caught my attention from the corner of my eye. I turned toward a bright light coming behind the van. It was a pair of headlights coming straight for us at top speed. I immediately grabbed Sahrye and yelled, âGet out of the car! Now!â
My instincts urged me to drag Sahrye and myself out of the car, but it was too late. Just as soon as I screamed, the other car swerved and crashed into the back of us at an angle that forced us to slide over the edge of the road. All four of us screamed as the van tumbled into the woods. Snow, grass, tree branches, and rocks collided with the windshield. I heard the metal crumble, squeak, and groan as it rolled on through the thicket. I could hear Sahrye scream as she held onto me. I could hear Clare pray and swear while Wyatt lost the grip of the wheel and began to bobble and sway in his seat. During all of this, all I could think was that all of this was all my fault.
âAaron! Aaron!â Someone yelled my name and fiercely shook me by my shoulders. I forced my eyes open and focused on the blurry person in front of me. It was Sahrye. Her eyes were full of tears that dropped on my face as she screamed my name. As my vision came into focus, I saw dirt smudges on her cheeks and small scars scattered across her arms. I struggled, trying to sit upright, and my head began to hurt severely.
Sahrye gasped and held my shoulders to keep me from falling back. âOh my god. Are you okay? You can hear me right? Can you say something?â
I nodded, somewhat hoping thatâd answer most of her questions. I looked around slowly, still enduring the migraine. âOthers?â I asked with strain.
Sahrye pointed behind me. I turned and saw Wyatt, who was kneeling next to Clare. I managed to stand up and staggered slowly towards the couple. I sighed in relief when I saw that Clare was still breathing, although she was doing so in a heavy and frantic manner. Tears streamed down her face and she screamed in agony as Wyatt moved his hands around the center part of her body. I approached closer and saw that Clareâs arm was bent at a wrong angle. Wyatt was gently holding the arm while looking at it. He looked back at Clare for a brief second with guilt. She was still screaming and praying. Wyatt turned back to the broken arm and slowly held it up. Then, with a swift switch of his hands, he snapped the bones back in place. This was when Clare bellowed loud enough for the woods to let the scream echo for miles.
Sahrye was now crouching beside her, shushing her and whispering to her to calm her down. Wyatt, who later made it known that he was a medical student at a university back home, was aligning the bone with a splint he made and secured with a small tree branch and a piece of cloth he had ripped from the bottom of his shirt. Unfortunately, we didnât have a first aid kit or any ointment or medicine, so whatever pain Clare felt, she had to endure it until we returned to society.
I decided to stand up and look around us. The storm seemed to have stopped a while ago, but only after covering up the tire tracks of the runaway van that was now lying on its side against a tree. There was no trail or tracks to follow back to the highway. Our phones were now useless. Both me and Clare lost our phones during the crash, Sahryeâs phone had run out of charge, and Wyattâs phone was completely broken.
After getting Clare to her feet, we all debated on how we were getting back to society. We were at the center of a snowy forest with a steep slope above us. We all agreed that we obviously slid down this slope after the collision, therefore the road must be on the top of the hill. Our only way out of the forest was up. The only question was how long would we have to scale the slope and in which direction, especially since one of us was injured?
The sun was starting to set so we decided to go to the van and gather enough supplies and clothes to stay warm for the night. We decided to continue up the slope in the morning since moving around in the woods at night was too risky, dark, and cold. Luckily there weren't any signs of another storm coming, but the temperature wasnât getting any higher. It was my idea to bring two coats and extra clothes. Now both me and Sahrye wore as many layers as we felt we needed to stay warm. Wyatt took some branches and used a lighter to start a fire for us to sit around to both keep us warm and to keep nocturnal animals from coming too close to us.
We sat for the rest of the night trying to register our entire situation. Wyatt continued to try to activate his broken phone with no luck. His frustrated attempts to get the phone to respond were met with a glitchy, shattered screen. I was certain my phone was somewhere in the thickets on the hill. Clare tried her best to keep her arm elevated and the bandage and twig in place. She was no longer screaming or whimpering as she was before, but she was now pale after enduring the pain and trauma from the crash. Sahrye sat next to me and stared blankly into the fire.
The cold night of awkward silence and a throbbing headache was bad enough, but something else was off. You know that paranoid feeling that youâre being watched? I felt that. It happened later in the night when I noticed Sahrye nodded off and fell asleep on my shoulder. Wyatt sat awake while Clare closed her eyes and lay across his lap. Occasionally I would peer into the woods around us and see nothing but darkness. I imagined that a deer or a fox or something was eyeing us from the shadows. I shrugged it off after a few head turns to make sure there wasnât something large and hungry lurking. Then again, as long as the fire kept burning, I figured that was enough to keep predators away. That reassuring thought was enough to convince me to fall into a light sleep.
âGet your fucking hands off me!â
I jolted awake at the sound of one of the women screaming. I looked up and realized it was Sahrye who was screaming at the top of her lungs. She was standing face to face with Wyatt who was yelling back. âYou gotta calm down! Youâre loud for no reason! I already answered you!â
This was when I had to intervene. Thereâs something about watching your girlfriend argue with a guy you just met a couple days ago, but for it to happen in the middle of the woods at night was a situation I couldnât let escalate. I walked in between them and asked what was going on.
âI don't know,â Sahrye said angrily. âAsk him what the problem is. Tell him what you told me, Wyatt.â
I turned to Wyatt, who was now pulling on his own hair in frustration and had tears in his eyes. Now I knew something fucked up just happened. âWyatt?â I asked, hoping he would calm down before answering.
Sniffling, Wyatt struggled to respond and stuttered, âI-I was sleeping and she wasâŠshe was right here. I got up to take a leak, dude. I swear I was only a few feet away. And then. And thenâŠI-I donât know what happened! Thatâs all I know!â Tears streamed down his face as he tried to talk. Iâd only met the guy a couple of days ago and I never imagined he could become so distraught.
âWyatt! Just tell me whatâs going on,â I demanded, both tired and agitated now.
Sahrye then interrupted and said, âClare is gone.â
âWhat?â I tried repeating her words in my head to make sure I heard her right. That was when it dawned on me that Clare was no longer laying down. The last time I saw her, she was lying on Wyattâs lap, and now she had vanished.
âI already told you,âWyatt snapped. âShe was lying next to me when I woke up to take a whiz. I turned around and she was just gone.â
âWell, I didnât see her,â Sahrye said. âAll I know is that I woke up and I saw that she was gone and you were walking back without her. Who else could she have gone with?â
âAre you implying that I did something to MY fiancĂ©e?â
âI just want to know what you did with MY best friend. She couldnât have just got up and left by herself. Thatâs just not her.â As Sahrye spoke, she became more confrontational and accusatory, but I understood her anger. It was late at night and we were in the middle of nowhere. Clare didnât seem like the type to do something as dumb as running out in the dark on her own.
âWhen did all this happen?â I asked.
Wyatt shook his head. âBarely five minutes ago, maybe.â
âIt was at least ten!â Sahrye snapped
âThereâs no fucking clocks out here, Sahrye!â
âI knew there was something off about you, Wyatt. You know what? Clare told me you were always doing sneaky shit. Coming home late and shit. And what about that time you cheated on her? You thought I didnât know about that?â
Wyatt threw his hands up in frustration and disbelief. âThat was over a year ago. And what the fuck does that have to do with this?â
Sahrye pointed her finger towards his face and made a silencing motion. âIt shows that you are a liar and she had absolutely no reason to trust you. Now get the fuck out of my face!â
She walked to the edge of the darkness of the woods and screamed for Clare. She did this a couple times and waited. No response. In fact, there was no sound at all. It was as if the forest was mute. It could've been because it was wintertime and all the crickets and frogs werenât around this time of year. But the silence seemedâŠunnatural.
I looked around into the darkness when I noticed something glistening in the firelight. There were red droplets scattered along a trail of human-sized footprints leading into the forest. The drops were still seeping into the snow, which means they were fresh. Very fresh. I choked when my first thought passed through my mind. I pointed to the trail of red droplets and both Sahrye and Wyatt dropped their jaws and gasped.
Wyatt yelled, âClare!â He then ran to the van and reached into his luggage. He ran back toward us with a flashlight and followed the thin trail of blood into the woods.
I tried to call back for him to wait for us, but by then he was gone. Sahrye went into our luggage and pulled out a pair of flashlights that we always brought just in case of an emergency. Immediately we began to follow Wyatt and his light into the woods, uncertain what weâd find. But we had to at least look. I mean, getting out of this mess was gonna be difficult enough, but going back home and explaining to everyone about our friend's disappearance would be worse.
Wyatt began to slow down eventually after walking for what seemed like minutes. I looked back for a moment and noticed that the fire near the wreckage was going low.
âThe flame is starting to die out,â I mentioned to Sahrye.
She turned and noticed what I was talking about. âYeah. Don't worry about that. We'll just follow our tracks back.â
âRight,â I responded. After hearing that, I realized something. âHey, do you know Clareâs shoe size?â
Sahrye stopped for a moment to think. Then she said, âFive, I think. Why?â
I immediately stopped to look at the tracks. I was too tired to notice at first, but the tracks didn't show any tread marks in the snow like mine, Sahryeâs, or Wyattâs. They were human-sized, but they definitely weren't a size five. They were large, heavy indentations, like someone tall and massive were trudging through the snow. I noticed the specks of blood were no longer showing in the snow, but as I thought about that, another gruesome possibility popped into mind.
âSahrye. This might be a reach. But I think there's someone else here. Someone might have Clare. And when I say they have her, I mean they might be carrying her.â
Sahrye looked at the tracks and realized what I was saying. Whoever made these tracks couldn't have been Clare. Clare was a short and thin woman, and these prints were left by a taller individual who had no tread on their footwear. In fact, the closer I looked at them, the more they looked almost hoof-shaped but I figured that was impossible since the tracks were made with two legs. Were they riding on a horse? I thought, just before shaking the absurd idea from my head. Thereâs no way someone would ride around horseback in the woods at this time of night.
When me and Sahrye agreed that there was most likely another person walking in the woods with us, we tried to call out to Wyatt. However, it was no use. He was too far ahead. I could barely see his flashlight bounce around as he jogged ahead of us. The woods were getting thicker now, and the longer we walked, the more difficult it'd be to find our way back to the wreck.
âWyatt!â I yelled but got no response. Within moments of walking farther, we couldn't even see his flashlight anymore. This was bad.
âGreat,â Sahrye sighed. âI think we lost the tracks. The first ones, I mean. I can see Wyattâs, but the others are gone.â
I looked down at the tracks and realized there was now only one set in the snow. It was Wyattâs. That meant we mustâve just lost the trail recently while we were calling out to him.
âWe're going too far,â I added. I raised my hand up and yelled, âClare! Wyatt!â
Me and Sahrye stopped and waited for someone to respond. Then Sahrye began to cup her hands around her mouth to call out the names again. That was when we heard it.
Something screamed. I mean really loud. And when I say something, I mean that whatever made the scream couldn't have possibly been human. Not only did it seem to be abrupt and loud, but something about it was unnatural. It was the sound of wailing or a shriek. It was full of pain and rage. Worst of all, it wasn't far.
It reminded me of the high-pitched callings that elks make to each other in the wild but this sounded too distorted and almost monstrous to be an elk. It almost sounded like a predatory creature was calling to intimidate its prey.
âAaron,â Sahrye whispered,âI don't like this.â For the first time, since Iâd known her, she actually looked frightened. She was literally the bravest and most daring person I knew, but even she was losing her cool in this situation. I didnât blame her. I'd lost my cool since the wreck, but after we entered the dark woods, we were dealing with snow, tall trees, mysterious footprints and crazy animals yelling in the distance. I hated to admit it, but I was ready to turn back.
Me and Sahrye looked at each other for a moment, almost as though we were thinking the same thing. We started to turn away reluctantly when we saw something bright bounce ahead of us. We both turned again and saw Wyatt coming toward us with his light in his hand. We were almost relieved to see him againâŠuntil we saw that a large piece of his coat was missing.
No, wait, I thought. I looked closer at him as he ran in our direction. His coat was ripped to shreds on one side. I saw five long gashes along the front of his abdomen and stomach, spilling blood as he ran with a limp. His face was twisted with pain and terror.
âRun! Get the fuck out of here!â His clothes were soaked with his own blood. Me and Sahrye began to run back to the wreckage as Wyatt ran behind us. I didn't dare ask what he was running from. Judging from the wound, I definitely didnât want it to catch up to the rest of us.
Sahrye called back to Wyatt and asked,âWyatt! Did you find Clare?!â
He didn't answer. He was breathing too heavily with panic, but he forced himself to say,âKeep going! Don't stop!â
We did just that. We ran until we made it to the wreckage. The fire was a pile of embers now, but we were still able to see the van. I opened the side door and helped Sahrye inside before I started to crawl into it. I watched as Wyatt ran for us and I held the door open for him. I wish I hadn't.
It all happened in the blink of an eye. Wyatt was barely a full yard away when I noticed the thing that was chasing him was closing in on him. At first, I couldn't make out what it was. It was a shadowy mass that ran on all fours in a frenzied, galloping motion like a rampaging bear. Then I saw that the skin of the animal didn't only have fur, but patches of bone and rotting flesh showed through its hide. I saw how thin it was; a body with ribs nearly bursting through its own skin. That wasn't the most disturbing part. The feature that nearly stopped my heart was its face. It was all bone. The creatureâs head resembled that of a large deer skull, with antlers swinging side to side as it ran directly behind Wyatt. From a distance, you would think it was wearing a mask, but from the way its jaws opened and snapped as the creature huffed and groaned, it was apparent that that wasn't a mask at all.
I was petrified with horror as I watched the creature descend upon Wyatt, who was already weakened from his wounds and the long run afterwards. In a quick motion, the creature arched its back and pounced on Wyattâs back, pushing its large, black claws into his spine. The claws were similar to those of a sloth, only there were five long black talons that pierced into Wyattâs flesh. The creature gave him no time to scream as he reared his bony head back and bit down into his neck, crushing and tearing into his windpipe. The monster twisted its neck around as it worked its jagged molars into the flesh, making a violent cracking sound.
I forced myself to crawl into the van and slammed the door shut, locking it instantly. Sahrye looked at me with wide shocked eyes and asked,âWhat was it? Where's Wyatt?â
She didn't see it, I realized. She didn't see what Wyatt was running from, or what happened to him. How could I tell her that one of her friends was literally getting devoured as we sat in the van? How could I tell her that that horrible monster probably took Clare away in the first place?
The closed van door blocked the sounds of the large, skull-faced creature ripping into Wyatt. I knew that if it saw me and Sahrye enter the van, it would eventually come over to investigate. Instinctively, I searched the van for something to defend ourselves with.
Sahrye watched in confusion as I tore through our luggage. Then I rummaged through Clare and Wyattâs bags, hoping to find a knife or a gun or something. To my surprise, I reached into a bag and felt something hard. I wrapped my hand around the object to find that it was a handle of something small and heavy. It felt like a gun. I pulled the object out and I was correct. It was a six-round revolver and I recognized that the bag once belonged to Wyatt. If he had survived a little longer, he would've run straight for this pistol to defend himself.
Sahrye grabbed my shoulder when she saw what I was looking at. âAaron. Stop ignoring me! What's going on! Where did you get that?â
I couldnât answer her. Not yet. I opened the chamber to see that there were only four rounds inside. I was sure Wyatt might've had a box of extra bullets somewhere in his bag, but I knew we didn't have time.
âAaron!â Sahrye was screaming louder now. Too loud, I realized. I turned to her and placed my hand over her mouth to silence her, only for her to push me away and scream louder.
âWhy aren't you answering me? What the fuck is going on? Where are they?â
âShut up,â I whispered harshly.
She froze and stared at me in shock. She lowered her voice, but it wasnât anywhere close to a whisper. âWhat are you doing? Why do you have a gun?â
I realized I couldnât hide the truth from her anymore. Something inside me snapped, and before I could hinder myself, I yelled, âThey're dead, Sahrye! Both of them!â
Her blank stare said it all. She couldnât believe me. She didn't WANT to believe me, but I could see from her tearing eyes that a wave of realization and sadness was rushing over her. Wyatt wasn't coming back and Clareâs whereabouts were still a mystery. I hated to admit it, but I knew that if she was still out there, the creature would've taken her.
Sahrye was now holding her head in her hands, freaking out while trying to piece together everything that was happening.
âW-what's going on? Why is this happening?â She shivered as she spoke, like a mental health patient on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I couldnât bear to keep her in the dark anymore. I had to tell her something.
âTh-there isâŠsomething out there,â I stammered. âSomething is hunting us.â
Sahryeâs eyes widened. âIs it a bear?â
I shook my head. I didn't know what that thing was. All I knew was that it was still out there. For a while, we sat in silence. The windows were covered in ice and dirt, so it was impossible to see outside. To soothe my discomfort, I sat close to Sahrye, hoping to help keep her warm as we waited until morning. She didn't say much and I could tell she was still eyeing the gun that I had partially sitting in my coat pocket. I knew she hated guns, but there wasn't a chance in hell I was gonna leave it out of arm's reach.
We sat there for what felt like an eternity. I considered peeking out the door to see if the creature was out there. Suddenly, just as the thought passed, me and Sahrye jumped at the sound of something hammering from the outside of the van. I immediately picked up the revolver and aimed it towards the direction of the sound. It was on the other side of the door. Someone or something wanted to get in. Through the frost and filth coated windows, all we could see was a silhouette of something standing in front of the door.
âHello,â a small, weak voice called. âIs someone there? Wyatt?â
Me and Sahrye turned to each other in shock. It sounded like Clare. âClare?â Sahrye cried.
âSahrye,â Clareâs voice replied. âAre you alright?â
I slowly moved to the door and slid it open. Clare was pale, her hair was tangled, and her skin and clothes had more dirt smudges than before. When she saw us, she cried and hurriedly climbed inside, closing the door immediately behind her. We couldn't believe it, but she was alive.
Once she was inside the van with us, she and Sahrye hugged and cried together for a long moment.
âWhere were you?â Sahrye asked. âWe thought you died.â
âDied?â Clare repeated.
âYou disappeared and we saw a trail of blood,â I added.
âMy arm,â she said, lifting her bandaged arm up. âThe wound opened up. I got up after Wyatt went to pee. That was when I noticed my arm was bleeding again. Wyatt wiped it earlier and told me not to bother it, but I wanted to make sure, so I unwrapped it a little to look at it.â
We looked at her bandage. It was almost soaked with blood. I felt horribly guilty and almost regretted not just hiking up the hill to get help when we still had daylight.
âI didn't know how to stop the bleeding and the splint fell apart so I went to look for Wyatt whenââ
She stopped abruptly, as if she wasn't sure if she should say what she wanted to say next. A wave of uncertainty and fear flashed across her face.
âWhen what?â asked Sahrye.
âI saw something. Or I thought I saw something following me when I walked around looking for Wyatt. At first, all I heard was some footsteps in the snow, but it sounded distant. Then it sped up like it was right behind me. This mightâve been stupid, but I just ran. I ran farther than I thought I could, with a broken arm and all, but I just didn't want to look back.â
I thought about the big footprints in the snow earlier. I realized that I was right about them. They weren't Clareâs. Someone, or something, was following her. I was willing to bet it was the monster from earlier, but I waited to see if Clare would mention it.
âSo I kept running and running,â she continued. âThen everything around me was getting darker and darker. I couldn't hear the footsteps behind me by then, but I turned around and realized I was lost. Luckily, I was able to trace my steps and found you guys. I wish you or Wyatt would've rebuilt the fire though. It definitely would've helped.â
She doesn't know, I realized. I looked at Sahrye, who looked back at me nervously, then back at Clare. I took a deep breath and asked her,âClare, did you see something out there? That thing that was chasing you. Did you seeâŠit?â
She gave me a blank stare. âSee it? No, I didn't see anything. I just heard something and had a bad feeling. That's all. It probably wasn't anything. It was my imagination. I was just losing my mind after the crash. But I'm fine now. Honestly.â
I knew she was lying to herself. She mightâve been right about not actually seeing anything, but she knew she wasn't alone out there. She knew she was being hunted and it was her primal flight response that possibly saved her life.
âBut forget all of that,â she said. âWhy are we back in the van? And where's Wyatt?â
Sahrye grabbed Clareâs good hand firmly and said, âAaron said there was something running around out there. A bear or a wolf or something. We think it mightâveâŠâ
Sahrye trailed off when Clare pulled back her hand and stared at her suspiciously. âMightâve what? So something IS out there? Wyatt is still out there and you both just left him?!â
âKeep your voice down,â I snapped.âIt might still be out there.â
âWhat?â Clare asked. Her voice trembled as it filled with frustration.
âYeah, Aaron,â Sahrye added. âYou never told me what you saw.â
I looked at both of the women and sighed, knowing I had to attempt to tell them, whether they'd believe me or not.
âIt wasâŠbig. Almost like a tall person but it was hunched on all fours. It had fur but I swear it had bone and flesh poking through it. And it had a weird face. I couldn't believe it at first but it was like a big deer skull, with antlers. And I saw itâŠIt attacked Wyatt.â
Both women stared at me in silence. It was awkward to say the least but the longer we sat the more I realized they didn't believe a single word.
âYou've got to be shitting me,â Clare responded. She turned to Sahrye and said,âSo this is what I have to go through? You and your boyfriend play make believe with some creepy pasta bullshit while my fiancĂ© is still out there alone?â
Sahrye sat in silence, not sure if she wanted to even comment about what I just said.
âBut it's the truth,â I said,âI-I don't know what it is and I don't want to go into details about what I saw. It was horrible and disgusting andââ
I stopped when I saw Clare rush for her luggage and use her good hand to dig inside. She pulled out a flashlight and began to make her way back to the vanâs door. I immediately moved over to block her.
âAaron, what the fuck is wrong with you?â she cried angrily.
âYou can't go back out there. It's not safe. That thing might still be there.â
Clare continued to squeeze by me. âAaron, I was literally just out there. There's nothing out there. We're all just suffering through trauma or something. We'll figure this shit out in the morning but now I need to find Wyatt. Heâs my future husband!â
I knew talking to her was no use so I had no choice. I pulled the revolver from my coat pocket and pointed it at Clare. Both her and Sahrye gasped.
Sahrye held up her hands and yelled,âBabe stop! What are you doing? Don't shoot her! Are you insane?â
âI said you can't go out there. I know what I saw. That thing will kill you. It will kill ALL of us. We have to wait until morning. You two have to trust me on this.â
Clare stared back at me defiantly and pushed herself in front of me, standing an inch away from the revolver. âIf you're gonna shoot, then shoot. But I'm going out there.â
I looked into her eyes. She was serious. I decided that firing the gun was too messy and too loud for this situation. Hesitantly, I placed it back in my coat pocket and scooted away from the door. Clare brushed past me and began to pull the handle and slide the door.
Sahrye and I watched as she opened the door and turned on her flashlight. Just as she was about to step out, however, she looked down on the ground and froze. She let out the loudest, blood-curdling shriek I've ever heard. She covered her face and cried as she turned away from the door and jumped into the back of the van.
Me and Sahrye turned to Clare, who was now curled up in the backseat and whimpering as she shivered in terror. We both slowly crept to the door and looked down where she had looked. We both nearly choked on our vomit.
In the snow was a pile of flesh and blood. A small mound of crushed bones, entrails and other remains sat below. There was a red trail leading from the pitch-blackness of the woods, as if something dragged the flesh directly to us. Blood still dripped from the bones and the intestines, giving us the indication that it was fresh. Beside the bloody mess sat Wyattâs cell phone with the shattered screen, and it somehow looked more damaged than it did before.
I immediately rushed to slam the van door shut and locked it. Me and Sahrye then pushed ourselves to the opposite side of the van, far away from the door where the pile of gore stood.
We stayed awake for the rest of the night. Not only were we disturbed knowing that our friend was most likely reduced to a blob of torn flesh, but also by the fact that whatever the creature was that did this was still out there. Worst of all, it knew where we were.
I was the first to slowly open the van door the following morning. I don't know how to explain it, but I figured after everything the ladies had to deal with the day before, it would be better if I took the first peek outside. The morning birds chirping and the warm glow from the sunrise gave the impression that the long night was over. Of course, I knew better than to assume we were safe just because the sun was out.
I slowly pushed the door open and peeked out. I could feel the gradual heating of the air from the outside due to the sunrise. The snow that the storm left yesterday was almost reduced to puddles and soft slush. Even the frost and ice that coated the van earlier had completely melted.
It would be a decent scenery to enjoy, if it wasn't for the gruesome mess still sitting in front of the door. The blob of flesh and bones was still there. The smell was horrid. I had to use my shirt to cover my face to keep from throwing up. It had been almost a full day since the last time Iâd eaten anything, and I didn't want whatever I had left in my system to be wasted on the ground.
I looked back at the girls who waited for me to see if outside was safe. I nodded to them and held out my hand toward Sahrye. She was hesitant at first when she saw I had my shirt covering half of my face. She slowly grabbed my hand and followed me out of the van. She took a mournful and pitiful glance at the bodily remains on the ground and she too pulled her shirt over her nose.
It took a while for us to convince Clare to leave the van, especially knowing that she'd have to walk over whatever remained of her decimated fiancé. To say I felt bad was an understatement. I felt guilty and disgusted about the whole thing, but we couldn't stay in the forest. Even Clare understood that the place was too dangerous to spend another second in.
We finally had sunlight to help us get up the hill. I asked Clare if her arm was doing okay. She gave a weak nod, even though I knew it was probably still in pain after she tampered with it last night. It seemed to have stopped bleeding, although the dressing was dark brown after soaking in blood all night.
The three of us took our time maneuvering up the hill. We took as many bags as we could carry on our own, leaving behind the ones that we couldn't. The trees, bushes and boulders didn't make it an easy hike, but me and Sahrye managed to keep our footing while occasionally keeping an eye on Clare. There were a couple of times when we had to take turns helping her over a rocky ledge on our way up. Despite the struggle and sun that was starting to beam heavily on my back, it brought me a light sense of relief when I saw the van slowly disappear from view. I tried to not give it too much attention, but from my last couple of glances back, it almost looked like the flesh was no longer there. I couldnât tell if that was due to the distance or my imagination, but I could hardly see the remains anymore, almost as if it vanished after we left. Or rather, something took it away.
It felt like an hour had passed when we reached the top of the hill. That was when we saw it: the highway. We could see the deep tire marks in the dirt from where our van was knocked off of the road and down the hill. On the other side of the road was another set of tire marks, possibly made by the car that hit us. Whatever type of vehicle it was, it must've just sped away after the collision. Lucky for them I guess.
Sahrye had the idea to hitchhike down the road from where we originally came, at least until we were able to find a passerby kind enough to give us a lift to the nearest town. Otherwise, we would just walk until we found a sign pointing back to the interstate. Sahrye reminded me that we needed to find a hospital ASAP so Clare could get better medical attention. Clare protested that she was fine and that the bleeding had stopped, but Sahrye wasn't hearing any of it.
We walked for a few miles. We shared a water bottle along the way to keep hydrated and we passed around a bag of Doritos, gummy worms and a Hershey bar for nourishment. It wasn't healthy or filling, but it would have to do.
After a while, our feet began to get sore and we became more fatigued than we could bear. Sahrye turned to me while taking deep, heavy breaths. Beads of sweat covered her forehead, causing her raven hair to stick as if she had dipped her head in a sink full of water. âI thinkâŠwe should take a break.â
âAgreed,â Clare called, leaning against a tree while clutching her arm. I was also drained and sleep deprived, but I wasn't ready to sit down yet. Although we'd made it to the highway, we were still in the middle of nowhere. To make matters worse, we'd been walking for the majority of the morning and still hadn't seen another car yet.
Just as my last thought passed, I stopped mid-step when I heard a sound from behind us. It sounded like the hum of an engine. All three of us looked at each other to see if we all heard the same thing. We turned and to our surprise, a green, partially rusted pickup truck was slowly cruising down the road from behind us.
Immediately we all waved the truck down and yelled, desperately trying to get the driver's attention. Luckily, the truck slowed to a gentle halt on the side of the road. The three of us limped over to the vehicle, trying our best to regain our composure and not come off as a bunch of hobos or prison escapees.
As we got close, the driver's window rolled down quickly. A tanned, older man with sand-colored hair poked his head out..
âAre you people alright?â he asked us with sincere concern. His voice was gruff, almost matching his weathered face that suggested his age to be somewhere in his late fifties to mid-sixties. From the open window, I could smell the hint of cigarettes.
Sahrye was the first to respond. She approached his window and tried her best to sound as convincingly helpless as possible.
âExcuse me, sir,â she started calmly. âWe had an accident and our car slipped off the road. Only one of us has a phone, but it's dead, so we couldn't call anyone. We were wondering if you knew where the nearest town was so we could help our friend out.â She gestured toward Clare, who stood beside me with her stained arm wrapping.
The man's eyes glossed over the three of us as he was deciding if he could buy Sahryeâs story. He then asked,âWhich way were you all heading?â
âNorth. For the Montana state line,â she added.
The man shook his head and spoke with a sympathetic tone. âI'm afraid you folks chose the worst place to have an accident. The nearest town is east of here, and that ain't for another ninety miles. Let's just say well over an hour drive, which is even longer on foot. And their hospital is even farther out than that.â
The three of us looked at each other with the utmost disappointment. There was no way we were continuing that journey on foot in our condition. I looked back at Sahrye, hoping she would say something to the stranger to convince him to actually help instead of just giving vague directions.
Sahrye turned back to the man and said, âThanks for telling us that but we were hoping that you could give us a lift. Just get us as close as you can. The hospital you mentioned would be great but even if you can't, we can pay you. We have money.â
âHow much?â the man quickly asked with a raised eyebrow. I did the quick mental math and remembered that I still had just over three hundred dollars in cash on me. I usually brought that amount on our trips in case of emergencies.
I spoke up and said,âOne fifty to get us to the hospital.â I held up a few bills in my hand to show my sincerity. The man looked at the cash and thought about it.
âYoung man,â he said, chuckling,âI was gonna help anyway. I wasn't expecting cash, but since you're offering I'm gonna hold you to it. Now here's the thing. I was actually heading home to do some work on my roof today. Been putting it off for a while now, but anyway, the house is only two miles down this road. My wife, Olivia, used to be a nurse in the Army Medical Department. She's been retired for a few years, but I bet your hundred and fifty bucks that she'll take faster care of that arm than that town will. We can still drop you off there after you all get properly patched up.â
We looked at each other and for the first time since the crash we realized that we were covered in scars and bruises. The dirt almost concealed most of them but we were so focused on Clare's arm that we didnât notice. The idea sounded both convenient and sketchy at the same time. The man was a complete stranger, despite him being somewhat cordial. Something about getting âpatched upâ at a stranger's home in the woods just didn't sit too well with me. On the other hand, I realized that Clare looked a little paler than she had this morning. She had bags under her eyes and she was almost hunched over from trying to hold the bloodied wrapping over her arm. I could tell Sahrye felt horrible about the pain her friend was going through. Hell, so did I. The longer we waited, the worse the wound could become.
We reluctantly agreed on the manâs offer and allowed ourselves into his pickup. I went to the front seat while the ladies sat in the back. We placed our bags on the bed of the truck next to a couple of large paint cans, some hammers, and an extendable ladder.
The man introduced himself as Roy, and he had been living in Wyoming for his entire life moving from job to job. He bragged about his affinity for manual labor or tasks that required a decent amount of strength, will, and a desire to get your hands dirty. I figured he was looking to just have a conversation to last for the ride, so we continued to converse along the way to get better acquainted. When he eventually asked about the accident, I managed to interject before Sahrye or Clare could answer.
I mentioned the snow-storm, the slick road, and our original planned trip to Montana. I deliberately altered some details, thinking it was best to not mention too much information for him to draw his own conclusions. Afterall, I still didn't exactly trust him enough to tell the whole story. Instead of telling him about the van being rear-ended and pushed down a hill, I told him our car slid and crashed into a tree. I figured if he spread that story, then perhaps people wouldnât be in a hurry to find a van crashed in the woods with human body parts being dragged around it.
Fortunately, he didn't ask too many questions about the crash, so I didn't have to tell any more lies. All that mattered now was finding help for Clareâs arm and a way to get back to town to find a way home. I'd worry about the vanâs insurance, Wyattâs family, and a dozen other fucked-up problems later.
Of course, during the ride, I made sure to never mention the skull-faced animal I saw in the woods the previous night. I knew he would probably assume I was nuts and would end up having second thoughts about helping us. Instead I kept that detail to myself and carried on with the small talk until we pulled onto a dirt pathway. The path stretched up a small hill where the man's house stood.
The house was what you would expect an old couple living in the woods to reside in: an average-sized cabin with a small dirt lot around it. A few chickens walked around and pecked at the ground. As we got out of the truck, they all scattered out of our way. Roy led the way to his front door and I followed close behind. I noticed Sahrye and Clare slightly trailing behind, glancing at the surroundings. The woods around the home were just as dense and tall as the woods where we spent the night. The only difference now was that we knew that there were people living there, so we weren't exactly alone. But that only brought a minimal amount of comfort.
A silver-haired woman appeared from behind an opening screen door. She looked middle-aged and wore a tank-top with a flower-printed robe, along with loose-fitting jeans. Her style of clothing almost reminded me of what the hippies would wear in the 70s. When she first stepped onto the porch, she took a glance at us. The look she had was confused and somewhat judgmental, but it immediately morphed into a kind smile as her husband got close enough to give her a kiss on the cheek.
âMy oh my, what a surprise,â chimed Roy's wife, Olivia. âIf only Roy would've warned me about guests coming over, I would've been better prepared.â Roy coughed and chuckled nervously to recover from the indirect scolding by his wife.
He then smiled and wrapped one arm around her shoulder as he turned towards us. âOlivia, let me get you acquainted with these kind youngsters I've had the pleasure of meeting today. The lad over there is Aaron. The sweet doll right there is Sara.â
Sahrye quickly raised her hand and politely interjected. âIt's Sahrye, sir.â
Roy placed his palm on his forehead and chuckled. âSahrye. That's right. My bad, darling.â He then pointed to Clare, who stood sheepishly behind Sahrye. âAnd that poor soul over there is Miss Clare. They had a bit of an accident from the snowstorm yesterday, and she got the brunt of the whole thing as you can see.â
Roy gestured to Clareâs bloodied bandage and the arm that barely hung in it. Olivia took a long and pitiful glance at the arm and placed her hand over her chest, as if the sight of the injury was hard for her to look at.
âOh dear,â she exclaimed,âThat looks a lot more than a broken arm. You must've been cut, sweetie. It doesn't even look like it's been given a proper cleaning, let alone any ointment.â
Sahrye said,âRoy said the nearest town was over an hour away, and that the hospital was even farther than that. He said you have experience with medical emergencies, so we figured if you can help us, we could pay you for the troubles and we'll be on our way.â
âOh, there ain't no trouble here, sweetheart,â said Olivia in a soothing, motherly tone. âAnd yes, I used to be a nurse in the Army for over twenty years, and I've experienced plenty of cuts and broken limbs before. Just come inside and let's get you all cleaned up. And for God's sake, let's get rid of the awful wrapping on your arm.â
I wasn't sure how Clare felt after hearing that, since the bloodied wrapping was pretty much the last thing Wyatt had given her before he was killed, despite its poor usefulness.
Just as promised, Olivia and Roy led us inside their home and directed me and Sahrye to the bathroom, while Olivia took Clare to the kitchen sink. We weren't in the kitchen when Olivia was changing Clareâs bandage to clean and examine her injury, but we still heard her wince and yelp as Olivia whispered to her in a soothing tone. As for me and Sahrye, we only took a quick shower together to get rid of the dirt and sweat. There were a few scratches here and there on our faces, arms and legs, but we just used some Neosporin and band-aids that Roy handed to us.
After we dried off and put on some spare clothes that Roy had offered us, we left the bathroom and made our way through the cabin. Though it was small, the couple managed to make it look spacious from the inside. We saw a few hanging photos of the couple at what seemed to be family gatherings and trips. We saw one in which Roy was hugging Olivia romantically from behind. They were both smiling as they stood in front of what looked like the stone structures of Machu Picchu in Peru. I looked at the photo and wondered if me and Sahrye would ever be a traveling, adventurous couple again after everything that had happened.
We made a turn from one of the halls into the living room where other frames sat. Most of these looked like painted art-work rather than photos. Roy walked past us on his way to check on his wife and Clare in the kitchen. âOh, and feel free to check out Olivia's artwork. Other than nursing, sheâs a damn good painter.â
When he walked off, Sahrye tapped on my shoulder and laughed at one painting of a woman who was painting a portrait of herself. âLook close. You can almost tell that that's supposed to be Olivia in both paintings. It's like she was painting a self-portrait creating another self-portrait. That's amazing, isn't it?â
She turned to me as I stood with my jaw dropped. She was confused at first until she followed my eyes and found that I wasn't staring at the same painting as she was. In front of me was a different painting, one with darker colors and a morbid feeling coming from it.
It was a painting of a rocky landscape with dark clouds and a navy-blue haze. In the center of the picture was a creature with gray, sickly skin with fur patches scattered across its back and neck. Its stance was bipedal like a human, but there was nothing human about it at all. It stood on its hind legs, which looked bent and crooked, as if they belonged to a crossbreed of a horse and a werewolf. Its feet were large hooves that dwarfed those of a moose or cow. Its body was arched and a hump protruded from its back. The arms were so abnormally long that the creatureâs pitch-black raptor claws nearly dragged on the ground. Out of all the strange and gruesome features the creature had, the most unsettling was the head: an elongated skull of a deer. The mouth of the beast was gaped wide open in an eternal roar.
âThatâs it,â I choked. Sahrye scrunched her brows as she looked at the illustration of the same monster I saw the night before. The same abomination that pounced on Wyatt and ripped him to pieces and left his remains next to our van to spite us.
âWhat are you saying?âSahrye asked.
âThat,â I whispered pointing at the artwork, âwas what I saw last night. That's what killed Wyatt.â
Sahrye looked back and forth between me and the picture with concern. âAaron. Please. We don't know what happened. It was probably a bear or a wolf or something big.â
âWhat wolf or bear have you seen that looks like that?â I snapped. Sahrye took a step back in shock but I no longer cared. I knew what I saw and I knew it couldn't just be a coincidence that the same creature was in the picture. There was a chance that the couple knew it, and had maybe even seen it themselves.
Roy returned from the kitchen and shot a suspicious and concerned look at us. âEverything alright over here?â
Me and Sahrye turned, startled. I was still distracted by my haunting memory of the monster and my frustration at Sahrye for not believing me, even after what we saw next to the van.
âOh, we're fine,â Sahrye said, breaking the uncomfortable silence. âWe were just checking out your wife's work.â
Roy nodded and his face returned to its relaxed state. His eyes then glazed past us toward the illustration of the monster.
âAh, I remember that one,â he said with a reminiscent smile. âShe painted that years ago, shortly after we got married. She called it âThe Wendigoâ. She told me that it was based on an old tale that her family used to pass down for generations. She's part Cree, you see.â
Wendigo, my mind repeated. I tried to recall where and when Iâd heard that word before.
âWhat exactly is a Wendigo?â I asked. âIs it an animal or something?â
Roy shrugged and said,âBeats me. I think it's one of those scary tales used to convince children from wandering around the woods alone. But I don't know the whole lore. You're gonna have to ask Olivia about that. Lucky for you, she just got done fixing your friend in there and she's about to get started on lunch. I don't drive on an empty stomach, so I'm gonna stick around and get a bite. You should join us. Maybe she'll tell you the story about the Wendigo better than I could.â
I thought about the idea and realized that it was a little past noon. I felt that we were spending too much time on this fucked-up trip. But before I could respond, Sahrye interjected and said with a wide smile, âThat actually sounds great. We actually came up this way to explore for a while. Yeah, we got derailed, but it wouldnât hurt to make the best of what we got, right?â
Roy smiled in approval of Sahryeâs optimism, although it was really her way to end the conversation between me and him. Roy went into a closet and pulled out a large extendable ladder. He then continued his way toward the front screen door and said, âWelp, I gotta get started on that roof. Iâm gonna take a look at it for now to decide on the shingle work it needs. I should be back down in a half-hour or whenever lunch is ready. If you need anything, just holler at Olivia.â With that, he took the ladder over his shoulder and headed out the door.
Sahrye waved at Roy as the door closed behind him. We both looked at each other for a brief moment. She switched to a serious demeanor and narrowed her eyes up at me. This was her way of telling me to drop our recent dispute, although I already realized it was pointless to bring up the matter.
We made our way into the kitchen to see Clare sitting on a wooden stool and Olivia washing her hands in the sink. I saw a pair of vinyl gloves covered in blood sitting on the side of the sink and a couple of balled-up sheets of gauze soaked with blood as well. Clare raised her head at me and Sahrye and gave a delicate smile. The pain from getting her arm treated mustâve been so intense and agonizing that even smiling was a strain.
âHey, guys,â she said while waving her good hand. Her other arm was wrapped, although this time the wrapping was white and unsullied. On the counter-top, next to the gauze, was a bloodied needle and a jumbled strand of thread. Sahryeâs eyes dropped from the threads and to Clareâs arm.
âClare,â she started almost breathlessly, âwhat happened?â
Clare looked down at her bandaged arm and shrugged. âWell, I got fixed. Still hurts like hell, but it actually feels better than before.â
That was when Olivia began scooping up the bloodied gauze and old bandage. âI bet it does,â she said. She then turned to the garbage beside the counter and tossed the old material into the trash. After doing so, she turned to us with her arms crossed. âYour friend here was lucky to find us. Whoever wrapped it previously did manage to make a decent splint after pushing the bones back in place, but she had an open wound underneath it. It didnât look like itâs been given any attention at all.â
Clare shrugged. âI didnât notice it before. It got wrapped up right after the crash. The scar probably opened overnight.â
âYeah,â I added. âPlus, we didnât really have any medical supplies with us at the time. It was getting too dark to leave from where we were, so we ended up spending the night there.â
âIn the woods?â Olivia said with a shocked expression. âThat must've been one hell of a night. Iâm glad to see all of you survived.â
The three of us looked at each other, knowing that was far from the truth. We all understood that just as Wyatt had died, we couldâve easily died along with him.
About an hour later, Olivia called for us to join her at the table in the living room. We all sat around it as she came towards the table with a large metal pot she held with oven mitts around the handles. She placed the pot at the center of the table. She then passed each of us an empty bowl with a spoon wrapped neatly in a napkin in the manner the waiters at a fancy restaurant present their silverware to their guests. She then took the top of the pot off, releasing a puff of steam to bloom into the air like a small mushroom cloud. We peered into the pot and saw that it was a stew filled with bits of corn, specks of green herbs, small black beans, and chunks of squash. The spicy and hearty aroma made my mouth water. The smell was immaculate, but the nutty and savory taste was even more so.
I had at least two bowls of the stew, almost forgetting I was merely a guest being treated by complete strangers. At first we felt almost like a burden, or invaders even, for entering the couple's home, using their shower, and now eating their food. But there we were, chatting, joking, and enjoying each otherâs company. If it werenât for Clareâs arm being wrapped up, we probably could have forgotten about the past misfortunes.
My memories came flooding back when I caught a glimpse of the dark painting of the Wendigo. I almost struggled swallowing the chunk of squash I was chewing on when I remembered the horror Iâd witnessed and struggled to get my girlfriend or Clare to understand. I knew if I asked Olivia what I wanted to ask her, Sahrye and Clare would probably never forgive me. Unfortunately, the question escaped my lips before I could stop myself.
âExcuse me, maâam,â I said after swallowing a mouthful of stew,âI noticed your artwork and I just had to ask you something.â
Sahrye was already staring at me, her eyes pierced me like daggers. Here goes nothing, I thought. I nodded at the Wendigo painting and asked,âWhat inspired you to do that painting?â
Olivia turned and looked at the painting I was referring to: the Wendigo standing in bipedal position, its jaws gaping wide open while seemingly staring back at her. âOh, that?â she asked as she repositioned herself to face me. âThatâs called the Wendigo, or Witiko, depending who you ask. When I was a child, I grew up on an old reservation in Alberta. The elders of the town, especially my grandparents, used to tell us stories about Witiko. They would sit all of the children down and tell us about a man who was from an ancient tribe in a much more ancient land who had upset nature by disobeying one of its oldest laws: to never eat flesh from another human.â
I sat and listened intently as Olivia spoke and noticed that she was no longer eating the stew. Even Sahrye and Clare stopped eating to listen to her, almost sitting at the edge of their seats. Olivia was staring down at her bowl while she twirled her spoon around the edge of it. It was as if she was accessing an old memory that she had kept buried in the back of her mind for a long time.
âThere are many versions of how the first Witiko came into being,â she continued. âBut each of them mentions something about cannibalism. Now, mind you, many creatures tend to cannibalize each other when food is scarce, but it has been believed that nature holds humans to a higher standard, so there are laws that are set in place that, despite how superior we think we are, even we are compelled to obey. Cannibalism is regarded as an unforgivable sin, so when a person devours the flesh of another, they get punished.â
The room was quiet for a moment. Me and the girls were all curious now. âUm, punished?â I asked.
âYes,â Olivia said in a matter-of-fact tone. âThe story tells of a cannibalistic tribal member who devoured another member of his tribe. Afterward, nature punished him by putting him through a terrible transformation. His body twisted into an animalistic yet unnatural shape. He grew antlers, hooves, fangs, claws, fur, and even some of his skin began to tear away because the transformation was so intense and brutal. But other than describing how ugly the cannibal became, another thing that all the stories had in common was the Witikoâs insatiable hunger. Just like his immortal life, his hunger for human flesh is also eternal. No matter how much he eats, he desires more.â
I took in every word of the story. The details, such as the fur, the fangs and the antlers, all matched with what I saw the previous night and what the painting presented. I wondered how she was able to depict the creature with such accuracy. Even the color of the fur, the length of the claws, and the shape of the head of the monster almost matched the exact same beast Iâd seen.
I was about to question her on her accuracy with the artwork and if she has seen the Wendigo, or Witiko, or whatever. Suddenly, Clare said, âAnd that was supposed to be a story for kids?â
Before Olivia could respond, the front door opened and closed. Roy came in with his ladder over his shoulder and began to push it back into the closet. Olivia called to him and said, âThe stew is ready, Roy. I added extra garlic this time. Should help with all this bipolar weather weâve been getting. I know youâre not trying to get sick.â
âThank you, Ollie. Speaking of weather, Iâve been listening to the radio while I was checking on the roof. They said another snowstorm is coming within the hour.â
âShould we leave now then?â Clare asked, âWe can outrun it, canât we?â
âOh no. I donât think so, young lady. I know yâall from out of town but the snow here makes the roads very difficult to navigate. And the clouds are already coming over us, which is a bummer for me because there ainât no way I can do anything to that roof now.â
âSo what does that mean for us?â I asked. âIs there somewhere closer we can go for the night?â
Roy shook his head and threw up his hands. âIâve lived around these parts for a good portion of my life, bud. If there was a motel around here, I would drive you all there ASAP. But getting you all to that town is just too risky. The radio said theyâre expecting 45 mph winds and six feet of snow, and unlike yesterday, this snow ainât gonna be gone by the morning. Now, we do have a spare room we keep for relatives, and we got a couch down here. If youâd all like to stay the extra night, you can.â
âWhat? No, we canât,â I said. âI mean, you two did so much already.â
Olivia interrupted as she reached and placed a hand on my shoulder and said,âAaron, youâre not bothering us. That room hasn't been slept in since last summer when we had a family gathering. Itâs plenty of room for you and Sahrye.â
âYeah, and I donât really mind sleeping on the couch anyway,â Clare exclaimed. I shot her a stare and thought, Seriously?
Before I could argue against staying for another night, Sahrye decided to join in. âI think thatâll be fine. In fact, I donât mind helping out around the house if you need us to.â
Roy smiled and said, âIâm gonna hold you to that. And besides, weâre good Christian folk. We donât get too many visitors out here, so when we find a chance to bring some kindness into the world, we take it.â
I realized there was no point in arguing with these people, so I just went along with it. As we all finished eating, I looked out the window and shuddered when I saw thick white flurries falling on the ground. The rest of the afternoon was spent helping the couple around the house. We swept their attic, mopped the kitchen floor tiles, and helped usher their chickens into the coop before the snowfall increased. Roy asked me to help him move some tools and farm gear into his shed out back. As we did, I noticed that there were tall garden torches with glass shields over the tops that stood in the lawn. None of them were lit, but there were over a dozen of them and they circled the perimeter of the home.
Roy noticed me staring at the torch stands and said,âOh, Olivia made me install those when we got this house years ago. She goes out here every now and then to light all of them before sunset. Itâs a traditional thing she and her people used to do. I thought it was a weird idea at first, but when you live with someone long enough, you tend to overlook all the quirky things they do.â
âI never saw this many torches in one place,â I said. âItâs like a setup for a pagan ritual or something.â
Roy shrugged. âYeah. Believe me, as a Christian man I thought this was beyond odd. Hell, I figured she was gonna make a blood sacrifice or something. Her family is Christian too, but they still carry on some traditions that their ancestors did. It took a while, but I eventually got used to some of the weird things she does.â
I nodded in understanding and we both walked through the rising snow as we returned to the cabin. We spent a few hours watching TV and conversing and had dinner. After we washed our dishes, I looked out the window above the sink and noticed someone was walking around out there in a large thick coat. The bottom of their pants were swallowed up by the snow that accumulated on the ground. From the looks of it, the snow was still coming down, but the figure seemed unfazed by it. I looked closer to get a better look at their face. It was Olivia. She carried a box of matches and walked up to one of the torches. She lit a match and slowly opened the glass covering and lit it, allowing a ball of flame to grow inside the case. She did the same thing for all the torches until the entire property was surrounded. Strange. Very strange, I thought to myself. I eventually returned my attention to my dishes to avoid making awkward eye contact with Olivia.
Afterward, we all prepared for bed. As me and Sahrye went to the spare bedroom, she decided to confront me about the discussion between me and Olivia earlier.
âAaron, I think we need to talk,â she said after taking a deep breath.
âAbout?â I asked.
âWhat happened earlier? Remember that Wendigo picture thing? Well, the discussion you and Olivia had was bothering Clare.â
âBothering her?â
âYeah. She said it was bothering her ever since she told us about her running in the woods from her âimagination,â and then you told us about the thing you saw.â
âAnd you still donât believe me. Yes, I know. Why are you two worried about it now?â
âIâm not, but youâre the one who said that the monster from some Native American myth killed Wyatt. And then you and Olivia were talking about it. Thatâs not helping. Clare needs to heal, not hear about some deer monster that killed her fiancĂ© last night.â
âBut it did, Sahrye! Why wonât you believe me? You saw his body too. I know you did. You know there wasnât a normal animal that could do that and leave it in front of the van.â
I realized I was yelling now and tried to regain my composure. Sahrye shook her head and said,âI donât know anything, Aaron. I don't know what you saw. And Iâm not saying you didnât see anything. But what Iâm saying is that yesterday was very traumatic for all of us. Clare said she imagined she heard something following her. She was wounded and had a broken arm. Who knows what was going on in her head. And maybe you did see an animal out there, but you were so traumatized from the crash that you probably imagined bizarre details that just simply werenât there. I mean, you literally hit your head when we crashed. I had to pull you out of the van myself. I know you couldnât have been well.â
At first I was livid at the fact that my own girlfriend was basically calling me insane and saying that my brain was so broken that I was just imagining everything. Then I thought back again to the picture and the accuracy of it and began to wonder.
âHey,â I said, partially thinking out loud,âhear me out, but what if this is all part of a set-up?â
âWhat?â
âListen. The picture of the monster is exactly how it looked last night. That canât be coincidental.â
âAaronâŠâ
âMaybe there isnât a Wendigo. Maybe the creature was really them the whole time. Like a costume or something.â
âYou canât be serious.â Sahrye turned away and changed her clothes and began to climb into the bed.
âNo. Listen,â I persisted. âWhat if these guys are serial killers or something? Think about it. Theyâre too nice and comfortable with us. They live in the middle of the woods, and Roy pulled up almost as soon as we left the crash site.â
I was going to tell Sahrye about when I saw Olivia lighting up torches in the middle of a snowstorm when she placed her head on the pillow, her back turned toward me. âThese are good people, Aaron. And if youâre so suspicious to call them murderers after all the nice things theyâve done for us, then youâre welcome to go to town by yourself. Just try to stay on the road if you can.â
I said nothing. Not because I didnât want to. Believe me, I had plenty more I wanted to say but I didnât. It was pointless trying to argue with her at this point. I wasnât lying about my suspicions of the couple. I went to one side of the room where a wooden chair stood. I picked it up, walked towards the door and propped the chair under the door handle at an angle that would make it difficult for anyone to sneak into the room. I then crawled into bed next to Sahrye and turned facing the window. My coat I wore earlier lay on the floor below me. I made sure to place it so that the revolver I left in the pocket was only an armâs reach away.
Call me paranoid. Hell, call me insane. Everyone else had, but I just didnât care. Too much had happened in so little time. If these people did have an alternative motive, I wonât make it easy for them.
When a group of friends is left stranded in a forest during a snow storm, they are hunted down one by one by a terrifying creature and must fight not only against hypothermia, but also against becoming the monsterâs next meal. After resurfacing from that adventurous fever dream, youâll dive into another chilling tale about a heartbroken widow who does the unthinkable to bring his loved one back to him.
Kanaan has a compelling way of writing that hooks the reader in from the very beginning. His smooth flowing description is very detailed, easy to understand, and it allows the audience to identify themselves with the characters: itâs quite impressive. In Wendigo Invites Us To Dinner, youâll likely be sitting on the edge of your seat as you read about the tragedies that fall upon a small group of friends. The nightmare that these people endure is something straight out of a horror movie as they fight for survival. When a husband journeys to a hellish realm, desperate to see once more the wife who was taken from him, he must make a decision that really doesnât leave him with any good outcome. I Spoke to the Guard of Hades is a tale of myth that may be shaped somewhat from the shuddering real life cult Heavenâs Gate. The stories in this collection not only create fictional tales around dark folklore, but the author also captivatingly explains the legends themselves so that readers can understand the backgrounds behind the narratives. Kanaan also manages to mix real life fears into his stories, which leaves them resonating with the reader.
A Lore Series 1 is an absolute must read for any horror fan, particularly those who enjoy folk legends, cryptids, and short horror stories. Wendigo Invites Us To Dinner is perfect for those who enjoyed the 2021 film Antlers with sprinkled vibes of Stephen Kingâs Misery and the 2013 remake of Evil Dead. Those who enjoy Greek mythology will certainly enjoy the horror of I Spoke to the Guard of Hades.
Be warned, A Lore Series 1 does contain body horror!