Living in the city, you forget that night is so...dark.
That's where I found myself now. No streetlights. No glowing signs. Not even my phone to help light the way. Thank God for the full moon glow that shined down through the bare branches of the tall trees and bounced off the white surface of the snow-covered ground. By the time my eyes adjusted to it, I was able to see enough to keep moving forward. But man, what I would have given for a good flashlight right about now.
Everything was quiet as I walked forward, the sound of my own feet crunching down on the snow the only thing I could hear. I had no idea where Slater was. I figured he must be following me somewhere in the woods, doing his best to keep hidden. If so, you'd think that I'd be able to hear his movements rustling around in there, but he was doing a good job at keeping silent. I guess stealth could be added to its list of skills.
The whole thing left me feeling utterly alone.
You'd think, out here, that would be a good thing. Better to be alone than in the company of crazies. Right? But it wasn't. I wasn't used to solitude, and the thought of being all by my lonesome in this deep dark woods only made me feel more vulnerable.
It wasn't long before I found what I assumed was the down tree that Slater had mentioned. There was a bit of a clearing around it, a small patch of open woods, perfect for a good line of sight, I decided. Was that Slater's plan? To hide in a vantage point somewhere in the woods, wait for the Bigfoot to show up to get me, and bag it sniper style?
Knowing that there wasn't much I could do about it, I sat down on the log and did my best to keep calm.
No phone. No book. Not even a watch to stare at.
It wasn't long before my mind started to race.
Every breeze, every rustle of a twig, or toppling pinecone had me whipping my head in that direction in anticipation of a visit from a creature of myth.
But each time, it would turn out to be nothing.
I'm here to tell you, sitting alone in dark woods at night is scary.
And as the minutes ticked into hours, it didn't get any easier. I had no idea how long I'd been sitting out here. All I knew was that I was cold, tired, hungry, and all I wanted to do was get out of here.
I thought about making a run for it, try to give Slater the slip and find a cabin or somewhere that I could call for help. But I knew that was futile. Though I was alone, I was pretty sure that Slater was watching me. I could feel his gaze draped over me like an icky ooze that I couldn't wash off. And I knew that if I tried to run, he would radio his people and have them hurt Stu or Sky.
So I stayed put.
There's a strange thing about prolonged terror that people don't talk about. It's exhausting. If your body is amped up, stuck in fight or flight for too long, it will take advantage of any idle time and start to shut down to conserve energy. That's how I came to fall asleep, sitting on a log in the middle of a wintery forest, with a crazy man eyeballing me from somewhere I couldn't see and monster that may or may not want to eat me alive, or at the very least, give me my very own scar down the side of my face.
I have no idea how long I was out. A few minutes? An hour?
But I do know that I was awakened by the sound of footsteps.
And the smell.
It was rank. I mean very bad, like if a slaughterhouse had set a bag full of chicken gizzards out in the July sun for a couple of days and then it got sprayed by a wandering pack of diseased skunks. For the first time that night, I was glad I hadn't eaten dinner, because I'm pretty sure it would have come up.
The sound of the footsteps was unmistakable. I heard my own on the walk in here, so I knew what it sounded like. Crunch. Crunch. Crunch. But these footsteps were louder and more pronounced.
Bigger.
I sat up, looking around. A few clouds had moved in, muting the moonlight and leaving shadows in every direction.
I couldn't see anything.
But I could hear just fine. The steps were getting louder and closer.
Crunch. Crunch. CRUNCH.
Then I heard breathing that was not my own.
It was deep and guttural, like the air was being sucked in and snorted out.
And it was coming from behind me.
I jumped off the stump and turned around in time to see it slowly emerge from the thick patch of trees. It was a silhouette at first, just an outline. But what stood out plain as day were the eyes. Just like in Gary Grey's video, the eyes glowed in the moonlight, leering and sinister in their otherworldliness.
I quickly became aware of my own breathing, which bordered on the verge of hyperventilating as I looked at the creature, paralyzed with fear and about a hair away from – quite literally – losing my shit.
It came closer and I could see it more clearly now.
Its body was covered in fur, its face as well, though I could make out certain features: a thick brow, large nose, wide cheekbones, a solid jawline.
Looking at me, it snarled and lunged in my direction.
I was still frozen with fear as it wrapped its arms around me.
All I could do was clench my eyes and wait for it to tear me limb from limb. But it didn't. Instead, it just held me tight for a few moments.
Then I heard what sounded like a firecracker going off. Then another.
The creature wailed and let go. Turning from me, it put itself between me and the source of the sound. Then I saw. Slater was standing in the clearing, aiming some kind of rifle at us. I soon dawned on me that the cracking I heard were shots he'd taken at the Sasquatch, and the reason it had enveloped me was not to harm me, but to protect me, just like Sky said it would.
The Sasquatch lunged at Slater and swatted the rifle from his hands. I saw it spin away and land with a thud in the snow.
Slater then brandished a large knife that glistened in the moonlight and stabbed the Sasquatch in the shoulder. The Sasquatch wheeled back and howled in pain.
Slater went for the discarded rifle as the Sasquatch turned and raced toward me.
I couldn't move, was still paralyzed with fear and confusion, so I offered no resistance as the Sasquatch grabbed me up in its big, beefy arms and carried me off deeper into the cold black forest.
YOU ARE READING
Beast Hunter
ParanormalneIn a cold forest, hides a creature of myth. Two opposing groups have come to find it. One seeks answers to a mystery. The other... a trophy. Who will reach it first? And what will they find when they do?