(IN)HUMAN

CHAPTER SEVEN: ABIGAIL FAY

We checked out of the hospital around one in the morning and we rode towards Edward's pet shop. The cold wind blew outside the windows, the layer of glass separating the cold but not the sight. We had to leave in a hurry that Ethan had not explained what this so called Wendigo psychosis is. As we rode, I asked him about it.

"It's a kind of possession. For that, first you need to know about a Wendigo." He said.

"Take the next right." I said.

"You said it's the next left earlier."

"Yeah I did but we are heading home now. First I need to understand every word you are saying and then we will investigate." I answered. He looked like he might protest but then silently took the next right. I pointed my house out and he parked outside. It was a normal house, the white paint making it invisible in the snow. There were creepers hanging on the sides but the snow covered them up. Now the whole area was nothing but a white space, devoid of color and life. We walked into the house carefully, splitting up to check if Ed was there. As expected, he was nowhere to be found. The thought that he wasn't around filled me with relief and then hatred for feeling the relief. We sat in the guest bedroom, the singular place in this house that wasn't messed up because it's rare that we get visitors.

"So what is this...whatever?" I forgot the name.

"Wendigo psychosis." He provided.

"Right. That is....?"

"This might freak you out." He eyed me, "A bit more than you are right now." I suddenly felt self –conscious, so I sat straight on the bed, even though the small movement hurt my back. Ethan looked like he might comment on the wince I left unknowingly but instead thought not to. He seemed to not say a lot of things.

"A wendigo is a mythical creature which was initially found in the East coast forests of Canada. It's basically an evil spirit in most parts of the myth but in some they are shown as a beast itself. Like a.....a person, with an identity." Seeing that I have nothing to say, he continued.

"A wendigo is a cannibal."

"Cannibal?" I asked.

"It feeds on people."

"I know what a cannibal is. I have read The Incredible Hulk." I said a little too rudely than necessary. Then I slowed my voice and said, "Sorry, this is messed up."
"I am sorry." He said, his voice full of pity.

"Tell me more. Everything."

"It's seen as a curse or possession. In many movies, it's represented with antlers and horns but that's just people confusing it with common notions of werewolves. But I have read a theoretical study by one of my friends, he did a work on cannibalism."
"In what my friend has researched, Wendigo psychosis is the possession of someone by the spirit of the wendigo. Or, as I said earlier, can be because of a curse. It can run in the family. Since Edward is from Salem, that is also a possibility.

Salem, the land of the witch trials. I always saw to it as a non-humanitarian killing spree and nothing more but you shouldn't believe everything you hear.

"Do you think it's inherited? Through his family?" I asked.

"I don't know but we will definitely have to look more into it." He said, folding his hands over his chest. "It's a traditional belief which first began with Algonquin speaking people long before one can even find the actual time. Anyway, once possessed by the spirit, the person slowly starts turning into wendigo. Symptoms being gaunt, desiccated skin, grey-ash complexion like death, pupil less eyes, tattered and bloody lips, skeletal figure and smell like a corpse."