Eyes of the Wendigo

10 -

The wind howled through the trees, biting and cold as Elias trudged through the snow-covered wilderness. His breath came in ragged bursts, clouding the frigid air in front of him as he pressed on, the rifle slung across his back feeling heavier with each step. The sky above was a dull gray, thick clouds rolling in, threatening another storm before nightfall. But Elias barely noticed the cold anymore; he was too focused, too driven by the growing sense of dread that had been gnawing at him for days.

He had to find answers. He had to know the truth.

It had been weeks since Rob Mercer's death, and in that time, the village had only sunk deeper into paranoia and fear. People were disappearing, whispers were growing louder, and Elias could feel the weight of their suspicion pressing down on him like a heavy blanket. The villagers no longer trusted him. They thought he was hiding something. Maybe even responsible for the deaths and disappearances.

But Elias wasn't going to wait for their judgment. He wasn't going to sit by and let fear consume the village—or himself. He was going to find out what had happened to Rob, and he was going to put an end to this madness before it destroyed them all.

The woods were silent, save for the occasional creak of tree branches swaying in the wind. Elias's boots crunched through the snow as he made his way deeper into the forest, following a faint trail he had discovered earlier that morning. It wasn't much—just a series of disturbed patches in the snow, almost imperceptible to anyone who wasn't paying attention—but it was enough to lead him forward.

He had spent the past several days investigating on his own, searching for any clue, any sign that might explain what had happened to Rob. The official search parties had come up empty, but Elias wasn't willing to give up. He knew these woods better than anyone. If there was something out here, something hidden, he would find it.

And that's when he stumbled upon it—a piece of fabric, torn and caught on a low-hanging branch.

Elias froze, his heart skipping a beat as he crouched down to examine it. The fabric was weathered, frayed at the edges, but unmistakable. It was a piece of Rob's jacket—the same jacket Rob had been wearing the day he disappeared.

For a moment, Elias felt his breath catch in his throat, his mind racing. How had this ended up here? The search parties had scoured these woods for days after Rob's body had been found, and yet they had missed this? It didn't make sense.

Unless someone had planted it.

Elias straightened, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the surrounding trees. The piece of fabric was fresh, the snow around it undisturbed except for the faint trail leading deeper into the woods. Whoever had left it here had done so recently. And that meant someone else had been out here—someone who knew more about Rob's death than they were letting on.

Elias's pulse quickened as he followed the trail, his boots crunching through the snow with each step. The woods grew denser as he moved farther from the village, the trees closing in around him, their shadows long and twisted in the fading light. The trail was faint, almost nonexistent in places, but Elias pressed on, driven by the nagging feeling that he was close to something important.

And then he saw it.

Hidden among the trees, barely visible beneath the thick canopy of branches, was a small cabin. It was old, weather-beaten, the wood dark and rotting in places, the roof sagging under the weight of the snow. But it was there, tucked away in the wilderness, as if it had been deliberately hidden from view.

Elias's heart raced as he approached the cabin, his eyes scanning the surrounding area for any sign of movement. The place looked abandoned, but he wasn't taking any chances. His fingers tightened around the rifle slung across his back as he moved closer, his breath coming in shallow, tense bursts.