CreepyPasta

Consumption

Three men waded through the snow and a howling wind. Their destination was a small cabin on the edge of a clearing and a old forest. The wounded man in the middle slowed the progress and was held up by the men on either side of him.

"Here. Hold him." The large man said as he waded faster to the cabin alone. He tried to open the door but it was literally frozen shut.

He took a step back and slammed his body against the door. It held firm and as he leaned back again a screech filled the air sending birds that didn't go south for the winter flying in the air. The large man froze for a moment then started furiously slamming his body against the door. It finally broke free and the door swung open with a loud creak from the rusty iron hinges.

 The large man fell to the floor and scrambled up as the two other men stumbled inside. He quickly slammed the door shut behind them and locked it. As the wounded man was laid down on the bed. The larger man moved from window to window shutting the shutters and locking them. The large man looked at the man on the bed.

"How is he, Dutch?"

Dutch threw his pack on the ground and looked at the sound of the man on the bed.

"He hurt bad."

The men stood in silence and listened to the wind whistling thru the cracks in the walls. They waited. Not daring to make a sound. The wind relentlessly blew, making the wood planks shift giving the cabin the illusion of being alive. The door shook violently as something roared in a high pitch on the other side.

The large man jumped backwards, pulling his revolver and aiming it at the door. Dutch pulled out his shotgun and aimed at the door as well. The thing on the other side slammed into the door again with a roar. Minutes ticked by and there was only the wind. Dutch slightly adjusted his weight.

"You think it gone, Samuel?"

"No. No I do not."

Samuel walked over to the wounded man on the bed. The man's breathing was labored and sweat coated his forehead. Samuel pulled out a rag and wiped the sweat off. He pulled the tattered shirt open to reveal a bloody wound on the man's shoulder and collar bone area. Samuel hung his head.

"Damn it Jeb. What is happening?"

Dutch pulled more ammunition out of his pack and laid it down on the small table by the bed.

"We kill this thing and we leave."

"I doubt that's a viable option, Dutch."

Samuel walked around the one room cabin. A chimney, table, door, four windows and a bed with a dying man on it was all they had to work with. Well they had a small bedside table as well but Dutch had already found a purpose for it. Samuel checked his revolver. Four of the chambers was empty. He took out the shells and pulled out some rounds from his pocket and loaded it. Six rounds in the gun and three more in his pocket was all he had at the moment.

 The three horses they had were loaded down with supplies but they were tied up across the clearing and most likely dead. Samuel looked at each window. The shutters each had a small diamond cut out of the center to allow some light in the gloomy cabin. He quietly made his way to the window by the door and looked outside. Across the clearing was the two horses still tied up and alive.

"Sum bitch." Samuel whispered. It didn't make sense. Whatever was out there was hunting and yet three large horses were untouched. The weirdness of it sent a chill down his spine. Something was very wrong here.

 Samuel turned around and a small movement caught his eye. Around the cabin was spaces between the wall and roof. They were often for air circulation to help keep houses cool in the summer and to keep the cabin from being overcome with smoke from the chimney in the winter. Just above the bed where Jeb was laying was two large claws sticking out from the spaces. Their long fingers were a pale yellow, almost white. Skin drawn tightly around the large knuckles. Long black talons stuck out of the ends of them.