Capri Coleman was a normal girl, getting ready to graduate college when her life fell apart. Her close friend died in a mysterious fire, she learns that her family's death from years ago might not be what she always thought, and she is thrown into t...
"We're being hunted by a ding-dong.... Naturally,"
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"Sam!" Dean called out from an area further from the campsite. I followed Sam through the trees and toward him.
Dean knelt, inspecting the ground. "The bodies were dragged from the campsite, but here the tracks just vanish. It's weird." He stood.
"So our furry creature friend has wings?" I guessed.
"I'll tell you what." He looked at me. "It's no skinwalker or black dog." He slung an arm over my shoulder. "Let's go, Capri-Sun."
I shoved his arm away as we walked back to the campsite. "Don't call me that, Whore."
We made it back to the others just before a scream echoed through the forest. Roy ran off first, shotgun in hand. Dean was close behind, pulling a handgun from the waistband of his jeans.
We ran and ran toward the noise as it stopped. We all paused in a small clearing.
"It seemed like it was coming from around here, didn't it?" Haley asked.
Silence. Nobody said a word, nothing moved, it was quiet.
"Everybody back to camp," Sam demanded.
So we walked back to camp through trees, brush, and rocks that I almost tripped over.
"Our packs," Haley said, realizing they were missing.
"My GPS and satellite phone are missing too," Roy added.
"What the hell is going on?" Haley asked.
"It's smart," Sam stated. "It wants to cut us off so we can't call for help."
"You mean someone," Roy corrected. "Some nutjob out there stole all our gear."
"I need to speak with you," Sam told his brother quietly. "In private." He walked off.
Dean followed.
"Wait, wait, wait. Wait for me. I don't want to be eaten by the unknown monster," I muttered, hopping over a rock to catch up with them.
Once we were far enough away, Sam stopped. "Alright, let me see Dad's journal."
Dean reached into his jacket and handed a tan colored book over. Sam flipped through the pages. "Alright, check that out." He handed it back to Dean.
"Oh, come on," Dean scoffed. "Wendigo's are in the Minnesota woods or in Northern Michigan. I've never even heard of one this far west."
"We're being hunted by a ding-dong?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. "Naturally."
