The WendigoThis morbid creature wendigo,More Like This
with eyes of burning indigo,
His mouth larger than his head
And all his teeth dripping red.
His presence has an air of curse,
His chilling cry, so much worse.
An ice-like coat, coarse and thick,
And breath to make the strongest sick.
He'll eat you whole and crush your skull,
For his distended stomache is never full.
WendigoSlush flew around the car in brown chunks as the wheels spun. The little black sedan rocked back and forth tentatively before sinking back into the bank. Sarah rested her head against the steering wheel and started to cry.More Like This
"How Goddamned stupid am I?" she whispered to the dashboard. It was stupid, really. Most normal people would have taken one look out there window that morning and went back to bed. Sarah liked winter, really; even blizzards like these are kind of fun if you don't need to be anywhere. But Sarah had to be somewhere that day.
She pulled on her gloves and braced for the cold. The wind snagged the door out of her hands and yanked it open. The bank was deep, easily four feet, and it stretched the whole length of road. Dusty snow swept across the road and erased the landscape all around.
Now came the real dilemma; whether to stay with the sedan and wait for the emergency crew to eventually find her, or to walk to the Stop-n'-Go. It was a short walk, even in a blizzard. It c
wendigo.More Like This
All cultures in which the Wendigo myth appeared shared the belief that human beings could turn into Wendigos if they ever resorted to cannibalism or, alternately, become possessed by the demonic spirit of a Wendigo, often in a dream. Once transformed, a person would become violent and obsessed with eating human flesh. The most frequent cause of transformation into a Wendigo was if a person had resorted to cannibalism, consuming the body of another human in order to keep from starving to death during a time of extreme hardship or famine.
It's been weeks. Weeks. It is all I can do to stare up into the canopy of the tent. I cannot even begin to try and move from the sleeping bag. I turn my head to the left to assess her condition. She is far worse off than I. Her hips have become bone, hard, thick cat ears jutting from her waist. Her sweater and blankets cover most of her body, though I know that
Wendigo WisdomOn HuntingMore Like This
Always stun a wolf before going in for the killing bite.
Some food likes biting back.
Never bother with rabbits when there is human scent nearby.
You must be the patience Hunger is incapable of learning.
Always lick yourself clean after a meal.
Wasting blood is a disgrace and you deserve to be bitten for even thinking about it.
Never attempt to devour a whole village.
The Ancient Ones favor those who have lost much; avoid drawing their attention.
Always dig your caches deep.
Kin who have not traded favors do not deserve your food.
Always dress yourself before talking with humans.
They will be too distracted with offering you pants to provide good conversation.
Never taunt a medicine man.
You have been disowned; the Ancient Ones always side with humans.
Always learn something from each human you hunt.
Your host can only offer memories while each generation moves beyond him.
Never try to drive a ca
Chapter 1I heard footsteps. They pounded the old wooden floors with a two second interval between. It was soon accompanied by a hideous growl. I was crouched by the door within a few seconds, trying to make out what the thing coming down the hall was. It's footsteps sounded sort of human, an injured one at the least, but the growl......it was more gutteral, primal in a sense. The steps grew louder then stopped, and I realized it had stopped by the door. I hurriedly dashed to the empty and open closet across the room, by the bed.More Like This
I quietly slipped inside, closed the doors and ducked down in floor of the closet, listening as I brought out my bronze dagger. The splintering sound of wood exploding told me it had broken down the door. I h
A Short Story of Cute It all happened in a library.More Like This
It was a bright sunny day, and like anyone in this chilly town I call home, I went out to enjoy it. After a short italian ice cream break at the cafe, I hiked up the street (My town is very hilly) to the library to look for a couple books. Take note, I’m a huge nerd. So I’m more likely to be stark naked in the streets screaming ‘They’re coming!’ than walking through the nonfiction section of a library.
So I walked through the door, making sure my library card was in my wallet, and, giving a wary smile to the librarians at the front desk as I passed, I headed straight down the towering shelves to the nonfiction/graphic novel section. I slid into the tight space between shelves (seriously, it’s like six inches wide) and began looking through the books, picking up interesting ones and giving them a quick look through. After several minutes I