Home for the Holidays

5 - A Holiday Miracle

Nick slipped and slid his way to the car and fumbled with the ancient trunk. With the freezing cold and the decrepit state of the vehicle, it felt more akin to opening a tomb. The ground shook with thunderous footsteps as the second beast stomped its way out of the house. Despite the cold, sweat ran in rivulets down Nick's back. "Come on you bastard, open up." He kicked at the trunk's lock and it sprung open with a pained groan.

James fired his shotgun again and the cacophony it made was swallowed up by the howling wind that had grown around them. The beast responded with an aggravated roar. Nick looked up from the trunk just in time to see the second wendigo advancing on James. It was larger than the first, and horrible spurs of bone poked through the ragged skin on its back. The creature crossed the distance from the house to James in a few short strides, gripped the barrel of the shotgun and bent it backwards with great, rending force.

"Do you have any idea how much that cost?" asked James, backing away from the creature.

The wendigo chuckled and then spoke in a voice that echoed through several ethereal planes at once. "It's a small price to pay for what you did to my partner." The creature held a long and deadly finger out towards the fried wendigo hanging off the roof. "By my mark, you've still got a balance for me to collect."

"Hey, Nick, they talk." James's voice was dazed and full of fear.

"Great, kid, keep him busy!" Nick swept aside holy symbols, a few landmines and a jar of holy water to pop open the trunk's side panel. Harpoons spilled out, clattering far louder than he would have liked. He picked one up, hands shaking and tried to jam it in the barrel. "Of all the fucking times to get the shakes!" He slammed his hand down on the metal siding of the car, trying to beat the tremor out.

"I'll deal with you in a minute," called the wendigo in a strange warbling tone.

Each word vibrated the edges of Nick's skull, making it feel as though they could crack at any moment. He peaked out from behind the trunk and saw James firmly in the creature's grasp, growing paler by the moment. The Wendigo looked at James, curious, like a dog about to rip a chew toy to shreds. Nick clenched his fist, trying to keep it steady and jammed a harpoon in the barrel of the rifle. There was a hiss of gas filling the firing chamber and he breathed a brief sigh of relief.

The wendigo made a strange, high-pitched whistle that carried through the wind as if it weren't there.

"Hey, can you keep it down?" shouted Nick. "You'll wake the neighbors and I have a raging hangover." He shouldered the harpoon rifle and pointed it at the creature.

The wendigo turned to him. "Really? Can't wait your turn?" It flung James without ceremony into the garage door where he crumpled, motionless.

Nick took a deep breath, steadying the rifle as the wendigo approached. The creature cocked its head inquisitively as if it weren't staring down the barrel of a weapon. It took a few more lumbering steps and Nick couldn't wait any longer. He closed his finger around the trigger and let the harpoon fly. With the short distance, it had less time to curve and stuck right between the creature's ribs.

The wendigo growled, low and angry, then reached a hand down and plucked the harpoon out. Black blood oozed from the wound, but otherwise, it seemed unaffected. It chuckled. "I thought I asked you to wait."

Nick bent down to pick up another harpoon, but the creature moved with surprising speed. By the time his fingers were closing around the shaft, it had him. A cold, clawed hand wrapped around his chest and squeezed, pushing all the air out of his lungs. Holiday stars danced at the edges of his vision, twirling and spinning in a dazzling display of fading consciousness.