𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞. | ʜᴏʀʀᴏʀ ᴏɴᴇsʜᴏᴛs

𝐏𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞, 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐚 𝐰𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐠𝐨.

Please, Do Not Piss Off A Wendigo

Living in northern Minnesota and being a horror lover, I was always paranoid, but skeptical, of the 'not deer'. I thought I might've had a few encounters, but you can't be sure when you don't come face to face with something. I'm a see it before you believe it kinda guy. Now of course, I believe. Good lord, do I believe, because I think I pissed one off.

Like I said, I live in northern Minnesota. I have a big German Shepard, her name is Stella, that I love to take on walks in the nearby woods. The forest is massive, but it's beautiful. I've never gone in too deep or at night, being eaten by a bear isn't exactly on my bucket list. But, a buddy of mine likes to go deer hunting in the woods during hunting season. He likes going in deep and camps out for days. He invited me along since it was that time of year, and reluctantly, I agreed. Stella came with for some added protection. I was no good with a gun, but I did bow hunting, so I packed up my weapon of choice, some clothes and whatnot. The basics and then some. 'Then some' being a six pack and some backup Newports. I know, I know, Newports are blah.

We hiked our way out to Mason's favorite hunting spot, a small field near a river. We set up camp in the field and for the first night we just shot the shit and went to bed. Come morning, it was hunting time. We woke up about eight in the morning and got to it. All dolled up in camo, we sat patiently with the trees, waiting for a thirsty deer. We missed two, caught one. Not too shabby. We headed back to camp, ate dinner, drank a little. I noticed Stella was on edge. I figured she'd heard a noise out in the woods. "What is it, Stella? Squirrel scared 'ya?" I laughed and patted her on the head.

"No, wait. Listen," Mason said, and I did. "Do you hear that?" I gave him a 'are-you-fucking-with-me' look. I heard nothing but the fire crackling. After listening a little closer, I realized what he meant. I heard nothing. No frogs, no crickets, no birds, no rustling in the surrounding woods. Okay, now I'm freaked out.

Then, I saw something. It was on all fours, kinda hunched over and massive. Of course, a fucking bear. Must've scared everything off. But, it looked real thin for a bear. I got out my bow, lining up the shot. No way in hell was I getting eaten by some starving bear tonight. Mason didn't protest, so I shot. It hit the bear, but it didn't react. A few seconds later, it's charging at us at full speed. "What the fuck is that?" I screamed. Stella went running into the forest, and me and Mason were frozen in fear. That was no bear, it looked deformed, gray, thin, and my god was it tall. Wendigos don't look like what you see in mainstream media. Their skin is grey and tight, their bodies bony, and the teeth are huge.

Mason quickly grabbed his gun, but a few rounds did nothing. We ran towards the tree-line as fast as we could, but it was gaining on us. "It's a fucking wendigo, Ethan! Holy shit, holy shit, we need to hide!" Mason yelled. We made a rapid dash into the forest. We ran on rocks over the river, but I slipped and fell into the water.

Mason quickly helped me up. Surely, the monster was even closer now. We jumped over a fallen tree and took cover by it. Fast footsteps approached us, and we could hear it. It's breathing sounded musty, and the smell was pungent, like a rotting body. I held a finger to my lips, telling Mason to be quiet. I had a hand over my mouth to muffle my breathing. When it finally left, we slowly left our hiding spot. Running back to our campsite, we only grabbed what we needed before making our way to the trails. We were far out, about 12 miles, and we knew it would take a long time to find our way back in the dark.

After half an hour of walking, we sat to take a break. It seemed like we were safe now. I was worried sick about Stella, my sweet girl. But, we had to keep going. That's when I hear familiar barking a few yards out. "Stella?" I yelled. "Stella, c'mere girl! I'm right here, Stella!" I ran towards the sound, happy to find my dog. The barking started coming from all around me, and I was confused. Then, it stopped suddenly. It was dead silent again. I felt my body freeze and my heart stop.

"Ethan! Get back here, it's a trap! The wendigo is mimicking Stella! Run!" Mason yelled out to me. No, no, no this can't be happening. Then, I heard Mason scream. I whispered an apology and ran. I didn't know where I was going, but I ran like hell. I heard it following me. The fast, inhuman running. Then suddenly, I was tackled to the ground. The thing looked me dead in the eyes, inching closer and closer, drooling on me. It had blood on it's mouth. Blood. Mason's blood.

It sunk it's teeth into my shoulder. I screamed and shoved a finger into it's eye. It popped, it was fucking disgusting. The thing got off of me, screaming and putting a hand over it's eye. I took the opportunity to run like hell. My shoulder burned, it took out a chunk when it got off. I knew I was definitely going to have a scar after this.

All I could do was run. I just kept going until finally, it all went black. I was found the next day by park rangers, and now I'm in the hospital. I've been here for a few days, being treated for a serious infection, blood loss, and I might need surgery on my shoulder and back. Turns out I damaged my spine when I was thrown to the ground. Mason hasn't been found, and I'm not sure I want to know what happened to him. On a good note, they found Stella. She found some campers and they took care of her, thank god.

I'm still scared. I live right next to those woods. At night I can't sleep, and sometimes I'll hear tapping on the window. I'm on the 7th floor, so I hope to god it's just my imagination. If those fuckers can climb I am fleeing the country. Sometimes I hear something saying my name, and it sounds like Mason - but not Mason. If anything happens, I'll update. But for now, I'm just gonna relax while I recover. Please, for the love of god, do not piss off a wendigo.