Eyes of the Wendigo

13 -

The silence in White Pines was oppressive, thicker than the snow that blanketed the village. It clung to everything, stifling conversation and turning every movement into a slow, deliberate action. The wind whistled through the narrow gaps between the cabins, and the trees at the forest's edge swayed under the weight of the gathering storm clouds. But the real storm wasn't in the sky. It was in the village, festering, ready to break.

Elias stood at the window of his cabin, staring out at the empty street. His breath fogged the glass as he watched for any sign of life. Nothing. The village had fallen eerily quiet over the past few days. The usual sounds of chopping wood, muffled conversations, and footsteps crunching through the snow had faded, replaced by the stillness that hung over everything like a shroud.

More people had disappeared.

It had started with Rob, then Graham. And now, the disappearances were happening more frequently. People were vanishing from their homes, leaving no trace behind. At first, it had been hunters who'd gone missing, men who spent most of their time in the woods. But now, it was everyone. Families. Children. Vanishing in the dead of night, their homes left untouched as if they'd simply walked into the snow and disappeared.

The tension in the village had reached a breaking point. Fear had settled into every cabin, every conversation, and every glance. Elias could feel it in the way people avoided his gaze, in the way their murmured words turned into accusations when they thought he wasn't listening.

They think it's me, he thought, his stomach twisting. They think I'm behind it all.

His hand trembled as he turned away from the window, his thoughts spinning. He hadn't slept in days. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the faces of the missing—Rob, Graham, and now others. Families he had known for years. Friends who had trusted him to protect them. And he had failed.

He had failed to keep the village safe. Worse, he had failed to stop the rumors that were swirling around him like a dark cloud. The village no longer saw him as their leader. They saw him as a threat.

Elias ran a hand through his disheveled hair, pacing the length of the small cabin. The walls felt like they were closing in on him, the weight of the villagers' suspicions pressing down harder with every passing day. He could hear their whispers, even when they weren't speaking. He could feel their eyes on him, watching, waiting for him to make a mistake.

They want someone to blame. They need someone to blame.

And Elias was the easiest target.

The knock on his door startled him, cutting through the oppressive silence. He stopped mid-step, his heart pounding as he stared at the door. The knock came again, louder this time, more insistent.

"Elias, open up!" It was Pete Langford's voice, strained and tense.

Elias hesitated for a moment before crossing the room and pulling the door open. Pete stood there, his face pale, his breath coming in short, quick bursts as if he had run all the way from his cabin. Behind him, the sky had darkened further, the first flakes of snow beginning to fall.

"What is it?" Elias asked, though he already knew the answer. Something else had happened. Someone else was gone.

Pete's eyes darted nervously around, as if he were afraid of being overheard. "It's the McAllisters," he said, his voice low. "They're gone. The whole family."

Elias felt his stomach drop. The McAllisters were a quiet family, one of the few that kept to themselves. He had seen them just the day before, when he'd passed by their cabin on his way to the woods. They had waved to him from the window, their children playing in the snow outside. And now, they were gone.