A cold breeze blew through my bedroom window. I sat up in my bed, still half asleep. The tree out front had completely shed its leaves. The onset of winter. Seeing the cold creeping in put a smile on my face. Business was about to boom.
I dragged myself downstairs to get on with my day, stopping by the kitchen on my way. A carton of milk, and 3 boiled eggs. I loaded the peeled eggs onto my plate, and went to town.
After getting my meal over with, I went down to the basement, where I stored my weapons.
I had to run a status check, and if necessary, stock up on more supplies.
You see, winter is usually when a lot of monster species go to bed for a few months in North America. Most reptilian and mammalian menaces are either inactive or burrowed in caves. Through the months of October to January, the sightings and incidents of Macropithecus Pedites, commonly known as the American Bigfoot, dwindle in numbers before resurging in spring. Studies have shown that the swamp dwelling, amphibious frog-gators burrow in mud through most of the dry season.
And while winter certainly reduces the diversity of catch for us hunters, it is by no means a slow period. Winter is when the big bad of North America comes out to play.
Winter is the Wendigo season.
This time of the year is busiest for us hunters all thanks to this ancient, ice cold apex predator of the snowing lands. The moment the October heat passes by, I get flooded with calls and job offers. And this year, I got quite the call indeed.
On the wall furthest from the stairs, were 7 gun lockers. I took out a remington from the 2nd. Seemed alright. There were about 2 boxes of rounds on the shelf.
In the first locker sat my crossbow. I had to get the string replaced.
The other rifles were in good condition for the most part. I opened up the 6th locker. There it was, sitting on the top shelf. My shotgun. THE shotgun. My family’s magnum opus. I still had 20 rounds of the high ex tungsten slugs. Good enough for this season, I guess, considering it takes only 1 slug to finish the job.
I remembered my injuries from the first time I used this thing earlier this year. I shuddered at the thought. I wanted to avoid using this thing, for this year at least.
I headed to my truck. I was going to have to go down to Baron’s, a local dealer who also supplies special equipment to hunters in my area. I was instructed to meet up with the old man to collect specially sanctioned supplies for my upcoming job.
As I was heading towards the stairs, I stopped by the last locker. I opened it up. Inside was a black leather trench coat. A deer skull was printed on its back in white. The sight of it brought back a lot of memories, from the time when I was training at the academy. I took the coat upstairs and threw it beside my suitcase. I was going to need it anyway.
I put the keys in and gave it a twist. She started right up, purring gently at idle.
I drove down the freeway, pondering over that phone call. The first wendigo related call for this season, and it’s something quite unique. I am tasked to capture one, alive. Yes, alive. I didn’t believe it at first. It’s not that live capture hasn’t been done before. Successful capture and containment has been performed 3 times in the past. 2 were bagged straight from the wilderness, while 1 was quite literally made and raised in captivity. A private funded study permitted subjecting a living, breathing human being to the wendigo curse, in order to transform the said subject and observe the stages of transformation. It’s pretty messed up. Definitely a human’s rights violations. But it is a far cry from the worst of the atrocities committed in the name of science.
Wendigos are, without question, one of the top 3 worst monsters in North America, if not the worst. They aren’t natural beings. All of them were once humans, who were influenced by the wendigo curse. A curse is a spiritual influence from a metaphysical entity. In this case, the curse of the wendigo is embodied within a spiritual entity that finds its roots in the heart of the native lands. Dr. Hausisse was the first to document the manifestation of the curse in a living specimen in 1962. This curse begins to take effect from psychological triggers, particularly when the victims are put in extreme conditions of starvation or greed. Should the subject indulge in exploitation against their own ethical conscience under these conditions of extreme stress, (most usually acts of cannibalism and murder) they undergo several morphological and psychological changes.
Induced psychosis causes paranoia and insatiable hunger to set in.
Bodily changes begin after a week of the trigger.
Complete body hair loss, followed by the subsequent replacement by extremely thin sensory hairs. Loss of body fat and emaciation of the body. Increased bone density by 400%. Re-activation of growth plates causing the elongation of limbs. Strengthening of fast twitch muscle fibers all around the body.
Posture changes and elongation of metatarsals, replacing the human plantigrade foot with a digitigrade foot. The skin darkens to resemble ash gray and black. Nails turn into black claws and the teeth are replaced with sharp canine daggers. Eyes the ash white of death, with dark black sclera. The ears elongate. The jaws protrude for a larger bite, the cheeks tear, revealing the rows of teeth, and the cartilaginous nose disappears as the nasal bone elongates and raises up.
The result is a humanoid creature that prowls the taiga and boreal forests of the North relentlessly, searching for flesh to consume. They don’t bother killing. They’ll eat you alive. They’ll lure you, track you down, and tear you apart. And you’ll be there to witness all of it, firsthand.
I drove down the desolate road towards my dealer’s property. After a 25 minute drive, I pulled up at his store.
As usual, the old man was seated at the register, lighted cigarette in hand. “Myers”, he said, acknowledging my presence.
I walked towards the register. “How are you doin, old man?”, I asked.
He took a long puff on his cigarette. “They’ve got quite the goods for you Myers.”
“Winter’s here. I’d like a nice and comfy coat.”, I replied with a smile.
Baron rose from his seat. “You’re gonna love this.”, he said in his rugged voice.
He led me to the back of the store, through a big metal door.
Mr. Baron is a trusted arms and equipment dealer for the corps. He, along with many others across the world, help supply us hunters with the tools for the job. Trust me when I say that times were a lot rougher in this trade before technological advancements found their way into the uncanny hunting business. Nowadays, you commonly see stuff like RS imaging, SONAR, RADAR, MANA sensors, and proximity alarms being used on the field. You find all sorts of wacky tech at the dealer shops.
Baron led me to the warehouse out back. I walked down an isle, with racks 10 feet high on either side. They were stocked with all sorts of goods wrapped in plastic packaging. I noticed a drone towards the end of the aisle. I pushed aside the packaging and took out the instructions sheet. As I was fiddling with the paper, Baron waddled up to me, dragging a wooden crate. I stood in front of it as he opened it up. Inside the crate were 3 metallic devices.
They were in the shape of hexagonal prisms, 25 centimeters wide. The vertices were smooth, not pointy. The top had a handle which was attached to a circular mechanism underneath. The device was around 20 centimeters in height and was bisected in the middle. Connecting rods extended perpendicularly from the 6 vertices, connecting the top and bottom.
“What’s this?”, I asked.
“ It may sound stupid but the R&D decided to call it an ‘Anti-voicer.’”
“Anti-voicer?”, I asked.
“It apparently counteracts the voices of the forest.”
I picked up the device by its handle. It was about 12 kilograms.
The trickiest thing about hunting wendigos is dealing with their most terrifying ability. The voices of the forest. Sounds like a generic name, but it’s genuinely horrifying. You all probably know that wendigos can mimic voices. That is true, but it’s only a fraction of what they’re truly capable of.
Wendigos can generate low frequency sounds that cause hallucinations.
They might cause you to hear the voice of a loved one. Maybe your backyard suddenly has one more bush than usual. Maybe you’re trying to track your way back home from a hike on the trail but the forest and landscape seem unrecognizable. If a wendigo gets too close to you, it can directly gaze deep into your soul and make the hallucinations even more severe. See where this is going?
The wendigo will use any trick it desires to lure you closer to its jaws.
The hallucinations are very simple, obviously due to the fact that an insane ravenous beast can only have so much imagination and creativity in manifesting auditory and visual stimuli. It employs basic elements of the cold forest and alters your perspective of your environment, both auditory and visual. When you’re out in the wild, there is no chance of noticing that you’re being baited.
I held the device in my hand. After reading the instructions, I twisted the handle anticlockwise. This released the latch on the bottom. I grabbed the bottom and pulled it from the top. The rods extended a foot before locking. Between the vertices, at the center, was a glass cylinder with a small black pyramidal amplifier. 2 black wires extended from the top and bottom towards the center. I set it down on the ground.
I could feel a very faint tingle in my body.
“It uses signal interference to cancel out the wave frequencies emitted by those bastards. This is just a phase 1 prototype though. Its range of protection is up to 150 meters tops. Effects drop off with distance.”
I put the device back into the crate. “So this mission was also a field test for the prototypes.”, I thought to myself.
As I grabbed the crate, Baron beckoned me over. “One last thing, Myers. Your little trip is being sponsored.”
“By who?”, I asked.
30 hours later, I was on a helicopter ride through the Yukon territory.
Sitting beside me were Annawan and Emily. These 2 were one of the best hunters of Canada.
Just last year alone, they’ve successfully managed to take down over 80 wendigos. Being seated beside 2 masters of the art, I felt a bit nervous about my performance.
Emily tossed me a rifle. I examined it. On the right side of the barrel, in matte black finishing, was the word ‘DragonFyre’.
This was a whole new line of rifles to be tested in this mission. The manufacturers, who will remain anonymous, partnered up for this mission so they could get field data for their newly developed weapons.
Apparently the rounds have a capsule of napalm around the tips. They burn red hot when fired. The technician who gave us the demo told us that the bullets literally melt through their targets.
And as you know, there’s only 2 ways to kill a wendigo - burn it to death, or destroy its heart.
The helicopter hovered over the treetops as the 3 of us rappelled down to the ground. Supply crates were dropped. The 3 of us took inventory of our supplies.
We were ready.
I looked around us. The green conifers were topped with the white of snow. Patches of rocky terrain were scattered around the snowy carpet of the forest floor. The pristine mountain ranges far to the west captivated me. The Canadian wilderness is truly a sight to behold. The cold breeze swept over my heavy coat. I grabbed 2 of the 4 crates. For now, Annawan was taking the lead. He was an expert at tracking. My job is more killing oriented.
“Sensors in sector 76 picked up movement 2 days ago. Camera footage revealed it to be a large male grizzly bear.”
“Grizzly?”, I asked.
“Yeah. But here’s the catch.” Annawan turned to me. “It’s left forelimb was torn clean off. You could see the broken head of the humerus jutting out of the wound. Not to mention the 4 deep gashes across its torso.”
“Right on the money.”, Emily said. “You said the bear was moving North-East in the footage, right?”
“That’s correct. Which means our friend should be at the border of sector 77 right about now.”
“We should check the caverns on the northern hills of 77.”, Emily suggested. “There is a good possibility that we might find some leads there. It’s the only cave system in a 15 kilometer radius. If this wendigo has been settling here for a few days, it probably sought shelter there.”
We traveled East for 4 hours. Our goal was to get to a specific clearing Emily and Annawan knew about. We would have a clear view of the cave entrances if we set up there. We were about a kilometer away from the clearing when Emily raised her hand, signaling us to stop. I instinctively lifted my rifle, ready to shoot at any possible threats.
Annawan pointed to the ground. Tracks. 45 centimeters in length, 30 in width. 4 toed, digitigrade. This indicates that the wendigo has been fully transformed. The footprint was massive. This specimen was definitely one of the larger ones. The tracks seemed to lead off into the trees. We decided not to follow them for now.
We headed towards the massive clearing. It was less than a kilometer wide. Towards the south, the trail led to a small lake. Up north were rocky hills. I took out my binoculars. Up in the hills were 3 small caves. I could see them just above the treetops. This was a good spot.
One of the best ways to kill a wendigo is to enter its territory, and then wait for it to come to you. And trust me, it will come to you. It always does. It seeks only to hunt, and consume. Its appetite will lead it to us.
We set up 1 large tent and unloaded our supplies. I stood guard at the front of the tent. The clearing was completely empty, like a blanket of snow. Gentle winds blew through our campsite. It felt calm. A bit too calm. That wasn’t a good sign. One of the noticeable symptoms of the influence of the voices of the forest was a feeling of tranquility. A stressed out victim is less likely to play into a wendigo’s traps.
For ages, hunters across the North would bite their tongues or pinch themselves every few seconds to keep themselves in the moment. The technique usually works with the average wendigo. However, some specimens are too adept at using the voices. This is what makes them so dangerous.
Not a lot of hunters would subject themselves to the position the 3 of us were in right now. But here we were. And here we’d have to make a stand.
I quickly went back inside the tent.
“It’s too calm”, I said. The 2 of them immediately understood. Each of us grabbed an anti-voicer. The plan was to create a safe perimeter by planting the devices in a triangular formation. Annawan and Emily began walking to either side of our campsite. I walked straight ahead. Since the range of the devices was 150 meters, that meant I’d have to walk at least 280 meters north to ensure the optimum overlap.
I walked towards the tree-line in front of our camp. I heard the hoot of an owl. I froze dead in my tracks and looked around. There didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary. I had to walk around 200 meters more to get to the planting spot, right next to an old, singular withered tree in the middle of the clearing. I slowly made my way towards the tree ahead, all the while the hoots of the owls persisted.
As I got closer to the spot, I noticed that the owls seemed to be on all sides of the clearing, just beyond the treeline.
I was getting closer to the tree.
150 meters. 100 meters.
I heard comms from Annawan and Emily.
“AV1 planted.”, said Annawan.
“AV2 planted.” Emily’s voice came through my earpiece. “Waiting on you Mye-“
The comms were cut out by static. I was getting interference. It could be because of the devices. I didn’t know for sure. I’d have to relay this information to the technicians after getting back.
50 meters from the tree. 25 meters.
The owls cheered me on. I kept looking around, trying to pinpoint the direction of the owls.
10 meters away from the tree. I stopped.
I held the anti-voicer in my hands. Twisting the handle anticlockwise, I heard the latch release. I pulled the top and bottom away from each other, revealing the amplifier mechanism. I could hear a low hum as the device powered up. A blue LED light began blinking on the top console. As I put the device on the ground, listening to the startup beeps, I remembered something. The first time we entered the clearing, I clearly remembered thinking to myself. “The clearing is completely empty. Like a blanket of snow”.
The device was up and running, but I didn’t dare move a muscle.
“Myers.” Annawan’s voice spoke to me through the earpiece. “Don’t move.”
I slowly lifted my head, in the direction of the withered tree. Staring back at me, were the Ash white eyes of death. The creature was massive. It was definitely 10 feet tall. The wendigo tilted its head. I could smell the pungent odor of rotten flesh. It and I both knew I wasn’t falling for its bullshit anymore. The wendigo slowly opened its jaw. Its lips and cheeks were torn to reveal the full extent of its teeth. It let out a low growl.
I turned tail and ran. I sprinted straight back to the campsite. I heard an ear piercing screech from behind me, followed by rampant, maniacal thuds. It was giving chase. I needed to get close to the campsite so my colleagues could intercept the wendigo. I heard the wendigo gaining on me. I couldn’t give up. I kept running with all my might. I heard someone shout my name. That was my cue. With one last stride, I dove to my right, trying to get out of the wendigo’s path. I heard loud gunshots just ahead. They were shooting at it. I got back on my feet. The wendigo was only a few meters away. But now, it focused its attention on the other 2. I ran back to the campsite. I could hear the firefight outside. They were trying to hold their ground.
I quickly ran to the 4th crate and opened it. Bingo.
I ran back outside to join the fight. Both Emily and Annawan were firing rounds into the beast. The wounds on the wendigo were glowing red. It had burns on its torso and limbs.
Despite its injuries, the wendigo didn’t show any signs of retreat. The bullets were just pissing it off even more. It charged at Annawan, who was caught reloading. I aimed at the beast and shot at its domed head. It didn’t penetrate the skull however. I stared at the monster once again. It slowly turned to face me. Letting out a roar, It leaped at me with incredible speed.
I dropped my rifle and unharnessed the 5 foot long dragonfyre railgun on my back.
I flipped the switch and took aim. A loud whine came out from the weapon. The barrel glowed a bright orange. The wendigo lifted its arm to take a swing at me. I aimed at its shoulder and pulled the trigger.
A loud blast rippled through the clearing. The bullet tore through the joint of the shoulder. The wendigo’s arm fell to the ground. It was blown clean off.
Perfect. This was the only way we would have to capture this thing. Blow off all of its limbs, and then airlift it to containment before it regenerates.
“Call for evac”, Emily said. “We’ll be finished by the time they get here. We have to get this thing into a cell before it gets its claws back.”
The wendigo stumbled back. It looked furious. It glared at me. It was going to charge again.
The railgun needed a full minute to recharge. I couldn’t immediately reuse it. I grabbed the rifle on the ground.
Annawan unsheathed a sword. I looked at him as he pressed a button on the handle of the black blade. He dragged his finger along the blade. The edge began glowing red hot.
“Is that dragonfyre too?”, I asked him.
“No.”, he said. “Just a hand-me-down from my brother.”
I took aim at the creature. It charged. I tried to shoot its eyes out, but it was moving too fast. It jumped at me. I tried to jump out of the way, but it swiped at me. I fell to the ground hard.
The creature lost its balance and fell beside me. I rolled away as the creature was getting back on its feet. It roared in malice. The thing’s jaws were 8 feet away when I saw Annawan running at full speed with a red hot sword. With a single decisive swing, he sliced through the wendigo’s left leg. A clean cut. The beast fell once again.
“Get the net.” Annawan called. Emily loaded the steel cable net into its launcher.
Annawan and I both took a few steps back as she fired the net at the creature. The cable wound around the creature. It howled in rage, frantically looking around for its next prey. Unfortunately, all it saw were 3 hunters. Emily shot out its left eye.
I ran towards the railgun. It should’ve been done charging by now.
The sound of metal screeching made me look back. The wendigo had managed to push its left arm through the net. Dark blood was trickling down onto the snow below. With 1 arm free, the wendigo lashed at Annawan. He fell hard on his back. The wendigo wriggled towards him, swiping at him with its elongated arms.
I grabbed the railgun, and tried to flick the switch. Nothing happened. “Damnit. It’s not done charging”, I thought to myself.
Suddenly, I heard a scream from behind me. I looked back to see the wendigo’s claw hooked onto Annawan’s leg. It pierced his skin, leaving a deep gash. The snow was colored with the wendigo’s and Annawan’s blood.
It started dragging him closer. I kept fiddling with the switch, hoping it’ll charge up any second.
I didn’t want any human casualties.
Amidst the blood curdling screams of Annawan, I heard a gunshot. The wendigo roared once again. Emily had shot at the eye socket of the wendigo. It reeled back, releasing its grip
With his only working leg, Annawan rolled ahead and raised his arms above his head.
He mustered up all of his remaining strength, and screamed at the top of his lungs. The blade of his sword cut through the arm of the wendigo.
I flipped the switch again. The railgun began humming once again. Emily and Annawan started moving away from the wendigo as I aimed for its neck. I pulled the trigger. The mighty spear of god pierced the devil’s neck. The forest was illuminated by the railgun’s magnificent flare.
The wendigo’s head fell to the ground with a loud thud. It was blown clean off. The entire cervical spine was destroyed. Its body twitched, trying to free itself from the net. There was a gaping cavity where the neck should’ve been. The head lay motionless on the ground, Jaws shut tight. The wendigo had fallen.
I sat down, letting out a sigh of relief. It was over. We finished the mission.
Without its head, the wendigo can’t function.
It’ll be a few hours before it regenerates its limbs again, after which, it’ll look for its head and reattach it to the main body.
I walked up to Annawan, who was lying on the ground. His wound was still bleeding. I helped Emily administer first aid. We wrapped up his leg in an attempt to stop the bleeding for now.
Off in the distance, I could hear a helicopter approaching. I went inside the tent to retrieve a flare. The extraction team was here. Annawan should be able to make it in time.
The body was put into a reinforced cage. The threat was neutralized for now. It will have reached containment long before it could pose a threat.
I strolled down the corridor of the facility. Annawan got emergency treatment just in time. They managed to save his leg.
The wendigo was put into a cell in time. From what I was told, it managed to bud its elbow joints just before being locked up. I stopped by the glass. Inside was a square room 25 meters wide and long. The walls were all white.
Upon the white tiles of the floor was an elk carcass. Sitting right on top of it was our cannibal friend. It had completely healed all of its wounds. I watched as it tore through the poor elk with its brand new claws. As it was munching on its spleen, it slowly turned towards the glass.
I met its gaze once again. I could feel the malice. It wanted to tear me to shreds. It hated me, and I knew it. I held its gaze for a while longer. A shiver ran down my spine. I felt my vision warp, as a cold breeze blew around me. I didn’t dare move.
I felt a hand on my shoulders. I snapped out of my trance as a young man spoke to me. “Sir, you’ve been staring at it for 3 whole minutes. Are you alright?”
I looked at the guy. He had a security uniform on.
“Yeah I’m alright. I’ll just head home. Been a long day.”, I told him as I began walking towards the exit. I was flown back home, after receiving my paycheck. I went to the fridge and pulled out a beer.
I think I’m gonna take a break for a week or 2
What I saw in that room. No, what the wendigo showed me, is a sight I’ll never forget.
A cold breeze blowing over a desolate snowy landscape. Through the blizzard, a family of 5 piled up on the ground.
The 2 toddler twins dyed the snow red. The older adult sister twisted and mangled beyond recognition, all of her fingers bitten off. The father’s entrails spilled out from deep gashes on his torso. Amidst the pile of corpses, a pale, young, starving girl, holding the decapitated head of her own mother, completely covered in blood. The young girl slowly lifted her head, away from the mother’s half eaten cranium, staring directly into my eyes.
The left eye was light brown, the right the ash white of death.