Eyes of the Wendigo

15 -

Mark was unraveling. He could feel it in the way his thoughts raced, jagged and sharp, cutting through his mind like shards of glass. He hadn't slept in days, maybe longer. The edges of his vision blurred, the world around him becoming a haze of suspicion and fear. His pulse throbbed in his temples, his heart never quite settling into a steady rhythm. Every sound, every movement made him twitch, sending a jolt of adrenaline through his veins.

He had lost all trust in the village. No one was telling him the truth. They were all part of the same tangled web of lies and secrets. But Elias... Elias was at the center of it. Mark was sure of it now. Elias had orchestrated everything—Rob's death, the disappearances, the growing madness that had spread like a sickness through White Pines.

Elias is the key to everything.

The thought looped in his mind, repeating over and over, a mantra that drove his every action. Mark's world had narrowed to a single focus: exposing Elias for what he truly was and making him pay for what he had done to Rob.

But Mark wasn't foolish. He couldn't just march up to Elias and demand answers. No, Elias was too clever for that. He would lie, twist the truth, and manipulate his way out of any confrontation. Mark had to be smarter. He had to outmaneuver Elias, get inside his head, just like Elias had gotten inside Rob's.

So, Mark followed him.

He kept to the shadows, moving silently through the snow-covered streets of White Pines, watching Elias from a distance. He tracked his movements, learned his routines. Elias was predictable, methodical. He left his cabin early in the mornings, heading toward the woods. He spent hours out there, wandering through the trees, before returning to the village just before nightfall. He would stop at the pub for a drink—just one—before heading back to his cabin, locking the door behind him.

Mark knew all of it. He had been watching for days, following Elias's every step. But it wasn't enough. He needed more. He needed to break Elias down, to make him feel the same fear and paranoia that had consumed Mark since Rob's death. Only then would Elias slip up. Only then would he reveal the truth.

So, Mark began leaving messages.

The first one had been simple. Just a scrap of paper left on Elias's usual path through the woods, tucked beneath a rock where Elias couldn't miss it. The words scrawled on the paper were barely legible, written in a frantic hand:

I know what you did to him.

Mark had watched from a distance, hidden among the trees, as Elias found the note. He had seen the way Elias's brow furrowed, the way his eyes darted around, searching the forest for anyone who might be watching. For a moment, Elias had stood frozen, the note clenched in his hand, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts. Then, with a quick glance over his shoulder, Elias had crumpled the note and stuffed it into his pocket, hurrying along the path, his movements tense and hurried.

Mark had smiled then, a cold, grim satisfaction settling in his chest. It was working. He was getting to Elias, making him question, making him doubt. But one note wasn't enough. Elias was too guarded, too careful. Mark needed to push harder.

He began leaving more notes, scattering them along Elias's path, in places he knew Elias would find them. Each message was more cryptic, more unsettling than the last:

You're not the only one who knows.
I see everything.
Rob wasn't the first.

Each time, Mark watched from the shadows as Elias found the notes. And each time, Elias's reaction was the same—a brief flash of fear, followed by a tightening of his jaw, a quick scan of his surroundings before he pocketed the note and continued on his way.