Eyes of the Wendigo

22 -

The cabin was a tomb. The cold inside felt no different from the cold outside, and Elias sat against the wall, his breath coming in shallow, pained bursts, his hand pressed to the wound on his arm. Blood seeped through his fingers, hot and sticky, staining the floor beneath him. His head swam with dizziness, a fog settling over his thoughts as the pain pulsed with each beat of his heart.

The door creaked open, the wind howling outside as Sarah stood in the doorway, her silhouette framed by the falling snow. For a moment, she was just a shadow—vague, indistinct—before she stepped inside, her face pale, her eyes wide and filled with something dark. Fear. Rage. Grief.

Madness.

Elias's breath hitched as he looked up at her, the weight of everything pressing down on him, suffocating him. His vision blurred as he tried to focus, tried to gather his thoughts. He needed to speak, to explain, but the words wouldn't come. His mind was a storm, a swirling vortex of fear and paranoia, of memories and regrets that tangled together until he could no longer tell what was real.

"I didn't kill him," Elias whispered, his voice hoarse, barely audible over the wind. His throat was dry, his mouth parched, but he forced the words out. "Sarah, you have to believe me. I didn't kill Rob."

Sarah stood frozen in the doorway, her breath coming in shallow, ragged bursts. Her hand still trembled from the knife she had dropped, the blade now lying cold and forgotten in the snow outside. She stared at Elias, her eyes wild, her chest heaving with the weight of her fury and confusion.

"You're lying," she spat, her voice shaking. "You've been lying this whole time. You killed him. You're the reason all of this is happening."

Elias shook his head weakly, his body slumping further against the wall as the pain from his wound sharpened, pulsing with every breath. He could feel his strength slipping away, the warmth of the blood leaving his body and pooling around him. His thoughts spun, memories of Rob's frozen body flashing before his eyes, the way his face had looked—twisted, frozen in fear.

"I didn't... I don't know what happened to him," Elias said, his voice cracking. "I don't know what's happening to any of us. The village... Sarah, it's the village."

Sarah's eyes narrowed, her expression hardening. "The village?" she repeated, her voice filled with disbelief. "What are you talking about? You've been behind this from the start, Elias. You knew Rob before we even came here. You've been manipulating us all this time."

"No," Elias rasped, shaking his head again. "No, it's not me. It's the village. This place... it's doing something to us. The cold, the isolation... we're all losing our minds. You, me, all of us."

He could see the doubt flicker in her eyes for just a moment, a brief hesitation, but then the rage returned, the grief fueling it, pushing her past reason. "You expect me to believe that?" she demanded, her voice rising. "That the village is responsible for Rob's death? For the disappearances? For all the blood that's been spilled?"

"I don't know how to explain it," Elias said, his voice trembling with exhaustion. "I just know... I just know that something is wrong. It's been wrong for a long time, Sarah. People aren't themselves anymore. I'm not myself anymore. I don't trust anyone, not even my own mind."

The words tumbled out, frantic and desperate, as if speaking them aloud would somehow make sense of the madness that had gripped White Pines. The cabin felt small, suffocating, the walls closing in around them as the storm outside raged louder, the wind battering the windows, shaking the door. It was as though the entire world was collapsing in on itself, and they were the last two people standing in the wreckage.

"I've seen things," Elias continued, his breath coming in ragged bursts. "Things that I can't explain. I've seen Rob, Sarah. I've seen him... in the woods, in the village. I see him every night. But he's dead. He's dead."