Wendigo

Chapter 16

Sara had finished her snack and felt better after texting with her husband. Another wave of thunderstorms had rolled into the area, and thunder was rocking her shelter. She was settling in to continue reading when a scraping at the door broke her train of thought.

“Ted? Is that you?” Sara asked hesitantly.

A snort came from outside the door in response to her question.

Sara went to the door and peeped out. She did not see the deer through the small opening she had secured. Sara untied the door and looked out. She saw the deer nestled beside the cabin, partially under the tarp she had set up to collect drinking water.

“Ted,” Sara said through clenched teeth. “If you tear down that tarp, I swear I will turn you into a buckskin jacket.”

Sara watched the buck as he gave a little huff and carefully bedded down under the tarp, not touching it as he did. Sara shook her head as she stepped back inside, out of the rain, and tied the door back in place. She brushed the rain off herself as she sat down, dried her hands on her shorts, and picked up the journal.

December 27, 1879

The blasted snow is falling again. Why did I get my hopes up? Why did I think things would go my way and I would get out of here? I hope that it will only last a few hours or a day at the most. If that happens, I might stand a chance. I do not hear any wind, so I consider that a good thing. It won’t cause the snow to drift against the door and into the area where I have been working.

I am going to have breakfast and then lie down again. I feel tired today even though I woke not long ago. Perhaps this is God’s way of telling me I should rest today after working so much yesterday. If it is, I wish he would have found a way that did not involve more snow.

December 27, 1879

Second entry. I had breakfast and then checked the snow, no longer feeling like lying down. Tiny flakes of frost are flitting about. If it stays like this, there will not be much accumulation. If that happens, it will feel like a miracle. I could use a few of those for a change.

I am nearly out of flour, which means I will have to sustain myself on only flesh soon. The more I eat of it, the more I feel like I need to eat to no longer be hungry. It makes no sense. If I eat more, I should be fuller and more content. Instead, when I eat the flesh, I feel as if I have not eaten anything.

I have to get us out of this cabin. If I do not do it and do it soon, I feel that we will both perish. I do feel a certain comfort in that thought. I will no longer be alone the way I am here on earth. I will finally be with you, Sarah, my dear. I will be able to hold our Timothy and play with him the way it should have been.

I need to recheck the snow and work at clearing more if it is not falling hard. If I work at it now, I might at least be able to keep the progress I have made if I cannot gain on it more.

December 27, 1879

Third entry. I was doing well. I had dug out quite a bit of firewood and had made progress with the snow. I thought I might even be able to make it out by tonight. That would have let me set a few snares and traps for overnight. Then the snow changed and started coming down in flakes the size of apples. I feel crushed. God is laughing at me by doing this over and over.

I sit here looking at my hands as I write, and they are getting even paler. The gray tinge is becoming more pronounced. I need real food, or I will waste away. I don’t know why, but the flesh is doing nothing for me, not even making me feel full. I am now constantly ravenous. I satiated the hunger when I could make enough fry bread to eat with the flesh. Now, with the flour being almost gone, that will no longer happen.

I will use the last of the flour now and make as much fry bread as I can. I will also cook a sizeable piece of flesh. That will give me something to do and will allow me to work more if the snow stops without needing to stop and cook.

December 27, 1879

Fourth entry. I can hear the wind blasting outside once more. It sounds like the cries of the dead as it whistles through the forest and over the snow. I question how many have died because of this infernal blizzard. How many have been buried alive and have not made it this far? That wind may very well be the shrieks of the dead at this point. Their pain echoing, never ending. Will my voice be a part of it soon? If I cannot escape this tomb, I have no doubt that it will be.

I checked the snowfall, and it has filled what I cleared to nearly half full of fresh snow. It pushes more snow against the door and the packed snow steps I have been making with every gust. If this continues, it will fill in what I have cleared before morning. This confounded weather will be the end of me.

December 27, 1879

Fifth entry. I cannot get my fill tonight. I have eaten all the flesh I had cooked, and I am still famished. I am preparing more now. I am craving it. I need to eat it. I do not want to, but I am compelled to do so. Why is this happening? I am defiling my brother, and I cannot control myself.

I am praying to a God that I am not sure I believe in any longer. I have asked for him to make the snow stop. I asked for him to allow me to bury Jim, so I will no longer be able to desecrate him in the way I am. I would rather starve than continue to do what I am. The trouble is, I know that until he has been buried, I will not be able to stop myself from the abominable acts that I am committing.

December 27, 1879

Sixth entry. The snow keeps coming. All of the space I had cleared has been filled again. I am exhausted in body and mind. I have reached a point where I want to sleep and never wake.

Oh, my Sarah, I hope that when I sleep tonight, I never wake. That would allow me to be with you once again. I miss you so much. I can feel you and smell your sweet perfume. How I long for your touch and embrace.

I think I will try to sleep now. If there is a merciful God, he will see fit to let me die tonight. I know that will mean I do not keep my promise to Jim, but I am sure he would understand.

Sara closed the journal and stretched. She could not fathom being in the situation that Herschel was in. Sara thought about his mental state. Sara knew that with being a trauma nurse and her mental fortitude, she was not sure that she would be able to endure as well as Herschel had been. His strength, even in the midst of what could be a mental breakdown, astonished her.

Sara sat at the table impatiently waiting for her husband, Kevin, to call her. She had not been able to check the weather on her phone or open the screenshots of the weather that Kevin had sent her. She was anxious for the weather to clear so she could go home. Sara grabbed her phone from the table when it rang.

“Hi, Babe!” Sara answered excitedly.

“Hello, my love,” Kevin chortled. “I have some good news for you. You want to hear it?”

“Are you kidding? Yes! Tell me!” Sara exclaimed. “I need some good news right now.”

“According to the forecast, the weather should break late tomorrow afternoon or early tomorrow night. It will be after dark, but that means you can hike out first thing the day after tomorrow,” Kevin told her.

“That is fantastic! If you were here, I would kiss you right now.”

“Well, I would hope you would kiss me anyway since we haven’t seen each other in a week.”

“Of course, I would,” Sara said.

Kevin asked, “Are you ready for more good news?”

“More? I don’t know if I can handle more good news,” Sara joked.

“This news you can handle. I managed to finish the job sooner than expected, and I am heading home tonight. I’m taking the next few days off so I can make sure the house is ready, and I will be waiting for you in the parking lot, at your car, the day after tomorrow. I want to make sure you get home safely and that I can see you as soon as possible.”

Sara let out a squeal then said, “I love you! That is the best thing I have heard in forever.” Sara’s joy was short-lived as a thought crossed her mind. “Wait a minute; if you do that, we will still be going home in separate vehicles.”

Kevin replied, “I thought of that. I got a hold of Steve. He is going to drive me up here. He has been wanting to see some of his family members who live in the area, so it works out perfectly.”

Sara laughed as she asked, “Have I told you that I love you?”

“You have, but I am always happy to hear it again.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?” Kevin questioned, confused by what his wife had said.

“For taking care of me the way you do. For showing that you love and not just saying it when you think I want to hear it.”

“My love, you never have to thank me for taking care of you. I might not stand guard over you like that weirdo deer, but I will always take care of you,” Kevin told her. “By the way, is the deer still there?”

“He is.” Sara laughed. “I am in the middle of a thunderstorm, and he has bedded down under the tarp I have set up to collect rainwater. It is kind of weird. It is like he knows I need that tarp. He is amazingly careful not to touch it at all.”

“Is he afraid of it?”

“If he were, I doubt he would be asleep under it the way he is. I’m telling you, there is something extraordinary about that deer. I hope he follows me out when I leave so you get to at least see him,” Sara said.

“I hope he does, too,” Kevin said, then paused. “Sorry, Babe. I have someone standing in my doorway telling me they need a couple of more things before I can go home. I’ll talk to you later. I love you. Bye.”

“I love you too, bye,” Sara replied.

Sara put her phone on the table and began laughing. She was absolutely giddy over the thought of not only the weather breaking but her husband coming to meet her in less than forty-eight hours.

She looked at the book in front of her on the table. The time she would have in the cabin should be plenty of time to finish reading the journal. Sara picked up the book and looked around the tiny room while holding it. She was in a state forest and was not supposed to remove anything from it, yet she felt she should take a few of the personal items that belonged to Herschel and Jim. She wanted their families to have them if she could find any of their living relatives.

Sara pushed those thoughts and questions out of her mind for the time being. Those were things she could think about and decide on when she left. In the meantime, Sara wanted to keep reading and learn more about them. She opened the book and continued reading.

December 28, 1879

I had to use the stove poker to break through the top of the snowdrift again this morning. All I can see are clouds, and I can hear the wind whistling among the trees. If I try to dig out right now, I won’t gain anything. I don’t know what to do.

I put a large hunk of flesh on the stove to cook while I dug out snow to pack around Jim. He looks as if he is sleeping. I wish I could sleep without Jim coming to me in my dreams.

Last night, he came to me again. He looked and sounded like himself to start with, and then he changed. He went from being his kind, warm self to cold and demanding. The way he looked changed again, too. He went from looking healthy and alive to gray and decaying. He looked as if he had been in the grave for weeks, if not longer. He began to yell and screech at me with these ungodly sounds that tore through me. I could still hear them echoing in my head when I awoke.

I do not want to sleep anymore. I do not want Jim to be in my dreams anymore. To have my brother angry with me for not eating more of his flesh burdens me more than I can express. I cannot continue to have him invade my sleep as he is.

December 28, 1879

Second entry. I need to eat more of Jim’s flesh. That is the only solution to my predicament. If I eat more, he will not be angry with me, and I will have the strength to dig us out of this cabin. That has to be the answer. That has to be what Jim wants me to do, and he will give me peace if I do that.

I am cooking as much flesh as my pot will hold. I have covered it in the spices Jim gave to me like he told me to do. Maybe it is those spices that make me want to eat more. It would be just like Jim to trick me into eating when I do not want to eat. That idea makes me laugh.

I am hoping the wind dies soon. If that happens, I can get back to serious work on digging us out of here. Until then, the only thing I can do is move what snow I need to pack around Jim and melt for drinking water, knowing all other work will be pointless. The wind will just fill it up again.

When the flesh is finished cooking, I think I will try to lie down and rest. I do not want to sleep, but I know I need to rest when I can. I will eat first. I feel so hungry right now. I’m not sure any amount of flesh I eat will change that. I feel like I will never be full again.

December 28, 1879

Third entry. I ate and then went to bed. I should have been full and satisfied. All I could do was lay there and think about how hungry I was as my stomach growled. What is wrong with me?

I got up, and I have eaten again, and for now, my hunger is satiated. I hope it lasts. I am not hopeful that it will. I am going to lie down again now that I have eaten all I can hold. I hope this time, I will rest, and the hunger is kept at bay.

December 28, 1879

Fourth entry. The wendigo is real. It must be. That is the only explanation for what is happening to me. I now think that it is the wendigo coming to me in my dreams and not my brother, not Jim. It is the wendigo telling me to eat more of Jim's flesh. I should have known that from the start. How could I be so foolish? How could I think that my brother would torment me in my sleep?

I fell asleep after I ate, and Jim, or what was pretending to be him, came to me again in my dream. This time, it did not try to hide by taking Jim’s form. It showed me what it was. It laughed as it told me I would become what it is because I have been eating Jim’s flesh.

I used the bottom of one of the tin plates as a mirror. What I could see in it is that my face is as gray as my beard. My eyes are sunken and black, like I have been dead for some time. I cannot explain why my appearance has changed so much. I know that the lack of food and light are playing a part in that, but I should not look like this.

December 28, 1879

Fifth entry. The wind has stopped blowing, but now I hear those howls in the forest and the stomping around on the roof of the cabin. I feel like I am at war, and I don’t have any way to fight the enemy. This is one war that I would not win anyway, so it does not matter. I will not try to fight.

No matter what is out there or what I am becoming, I have to keep my last promise to Jim and get him buried. In the morning, I will begin working on digging out the steps I have made and get us out of here. Even if it starts snowing again, I will do my best and work as hard as possible to get us out of this cabin.

December 28, 1879

Sixth entry. I sit here in the dim light, and I can tell that my hands now look thin, and my fingers look longer than they should be. My hands look gray, and the skin is stretched tight against the bones. They have changed since this morning.

I am so hungry again. I keep eating and eating, and it only makes me hungrier. I need relief from this. Eating should make me feel better, not worse.

I need to go back to sleep, but I am afraid to sleep. That should not be something that anyone is scared of, yet I am. I am going to stay awake as long as I can. I need to rest to work, but I cannot sleep, or that thing will be in my dreams again.

December 28, 1879

Seventh entry. I fell asleep, and it came back. Dear God, it came back. I should have never come to the abysmal place. The evil that lurks here is nothing I could have ever imagined.

December 29, 1879

I did not sleep more overnight. I couldn’t. That thing would have pretended to be my brother and came to me again as I slept. I must prevent that from happening. The bizarre part is, I do not feel any different than when I slept an entire night. I should be much more fatigued today than I usually am, but I am not.

I will eat, drink some more willow bark tea, and then try to clear more snow. I must get us out of this cabin. I might be turning into a monster, but I will not let down Jim. I will keep my promise to him.

December 29, 1879

Second entry. I broke through the drift with the stove poker. It is snowing yet again. It has been nearly a month of nothing but snow. How is this possible? I managed to dig more firewood out and brought it inside to thaw and dry off. The way the snow is coming, digging in an attempt to get out of this cabin will be pointless. The flakes are the size of the palm of my hand and just as thick. I have been here for many years, and I have never seen snow like this before.

I am cooking more flesh. I was eating it because I thought that is what Jim wanted me to do. Now, with what has been coming to me in my dreams, I do not know what to believe. If I want to live and carry out my brother’s last wishes, I have to keep eating it. If I keep eating it, will that speed up the transformation of what I am becoming?

December 29, 1879

Third entry. I ate more, and I keep checking the snow. It is still falling in those big flakes. If it stops falling, I might be able to make some progress or at least not lose as much ground.

I am so hungry. I just ate not an hour ago, and my stomach is already growling. It has to be because of the flesh. There is no other explanation for it. I don’t know why it would be any different than any other flesh. If it is thoroughly cooked, it would be the same as anything else. It should be the same as anything else.

My busted shoulder is throbbing. I will have another cup of willow bark tea and lay down to rest awhile. I do not want to sleep, but I do need to let my shoulder relax and rest a bit.

December 29, 1879

Fourth entry. I fell asleep. Why did I have to fall asleep? That thing was in my dreams again. I feel like it did not want to let me wake up. Is it going to try to take me in my sleep now? Is it going to trap me in a never ending dream world where I will spend eternity? If this is all being done by the wendigo, it is far more cruel and evil than I could have ever thought.

December 29, 1879

Fifth entry. This frozen hell will never end. The snow just keeps falling. My dear, sweet Sarah, I want this to come to an end so I can be with you again. This ravenous hunger and constant cold are wearing on me. I just want it to end.

December 29, 1879

Sixth entry. I had to eat more flesh. I am so hungry. I cannot get enough food, and that is something that I will run out of entirely unless this snow breaks. Please, dear God, if you do exist, make this snow stop.

Sara let out a slow, deep breath as she marked her place and closed the journal. She had not realized that she had been holding her breath and fighting tears until that moment. She was reading the thoughts of someone she believed was going insane, and it was ripping her heart out.

Herschel and Jim had become like friends to her. They were like pen pals she would never get to meet in person, and yet she knew them intimately. It was difficult for her to read about Jim’s passing, but reading about Herschel's descent into madness was heartbreaking.

Sara wiped tears as she sat listening to the rolling thunder rumbling in the distance. She contemplated reading more of the journal until she glanced toward the door and saw it was dark outside. She looked at the time on her phone and was shocked to see how later it was. Sara got up and went to the door to close it before going to bed. She untied the door and looked out to see the buck still taking shelter under her tarp.

Sara asked the deer, “Ted, what are you going to do when I leave in a couple of days?”

The deer snorted and shook his head.

“That’s what I thought,” Sara said with a laugh.

Sara closed the door, tying it closed when she did. She then went about getting ready for bed. Sara replaced the fading chemical light stick hanging in the center of the cabin with a new one. She needed something to help her relax a little and chose to drink a cup of cocoa before she tried to sleep.

Sara sat waiting as the water for her cocoa heated. She kept looking at the shelves and thinking about all the personal belongings carefully tucked away in the wooden boxes that lined the wall. As Sara did, she noticed that the shadows within the cabin were moving. She looked up to see the lightstick hanging from the ceiling was swinging.

“That’s new,” Sara muttered as she looked around.

Nothing else in the cabin was moving, including the water in her bottle sitting on the table. That told her there was no sign of a breeze or vibration that would cause the light stick to swing. Sara felt her pulse quicken as the chemical light began to swing harder.

“Jim? Herschel? Is that you?” Sara asked, her voice shaking.

Sara continued to watch as the light stick began to slow. It changed its movement from swinging back and forth to a slow circle in sweeping arcs. After several minutes of the chemical light swinging in ever-decreasing circles, it finally came to a stop.

Sara sat shivering at the table, feeling as if all the cabin's heat had been sucked out by something. Her teeth were chattering as she pulled a hoodie and a pair of fleece pants from her pack and put them on.

“Okay, I am thoroughly freaked out now,” Sara said through her still chattering teeth.

Sara went to her camp stove and dipped a cup of hot water for her cocoa. She had wanted it to help her calm down before she went to bed, but now she was looking forward to it helping her warm up. She quickly stirred in the packet of powder and then cradled the warm cup in both hands.

Sara sipped on the cocoa as she tried to rationalize why the cabin suddenly became frigid and why the light stick had begun to swing. The problem was that she could not think of a single reason why either happened. It was June, and the weather was warm. She had just finished securing the door, so there were no sudden breezes. She had been in the cabin for days, with much stronger wind than what was taking place now, and had never felt anything. In fact, the cabin was quite warm and stuffy without the door being tied open to allow fresh air in.

Sara finished her cocoa and let out a sigh. Her eyelids were heavy as she climbed into her sleeping bag. She was still chilled to the bone and shivering as she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.