The arid desert landscape is something one never fully gets used to. The canyons and sand stretch out for what feels like an eternity. However, beneath the watchful eyes of the four sacred mountains of the Navajo, casting a silent vigil over the land, there is a feeling of serenity. Amongst the whispers of the wind and the shifting sands, tales of the old ways and ancient spirits lingered, or at least that’s what the elders would have you think. In my opinion that’s all stories used to entertain or frighten children.
In my small community nestled on the edge of the reservation, I always found myself drawn into the vast wilderness that laid between the canyons and valleys of the mountains. I tend to be a person who keeps to themselves, seeking solace in the desert as a means to escape the dull monotony of every day life. I like to camp and live for the nights under the stars far away from any city to drown out their beautiful light.
On one evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the land, I encountered a stranger in the desert after I had finished setting up my fire. The man was a wanderer, dressed in what seemed to be clothes from last century. I looked to find his eyes obscured by the darkness of an old gambler hat, making his presence unsettling.
“You shouldn’t be out here alone if you’re not from the Rez.” I cautioned, feeling my voice tinged with unease.
The stranger sat across from me and chuckled, a sound devoid of warmth. “Alone? We are never truly alone in these lands, Johna. There are things that walk among us, things that defy explanation.”
My heart skipped a beat at the mention of my name as he gazed into the depths of the fire as it crackled, sensing a darkness that seemed to stretch beyond the confines of his person and start to overtake my own senses.
“What do you mean, and how do you know my name?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
The stranger leaned in closer, his raspy voice making the hairs on my neck stand up. “I know everyone and everything in these lands. There are legends whispered among the tribes, tales of creatures that stalk the night, wearing the skins of men and beast.”
My blood ran cold as I continued listening to the stranger’s words, my mind racing with images of ancient spirits and malevolent entities that lurked in the shadows. Things I believed were made up to scare children.
“Skinwalkers,” the stranger whispered, the word hanging heavy in the air like a curse.
As quick as the stranger appeared he was gone. From that moment on, I found myself consumed by the darkness that plagued the land. I would spend days out in the desert, searching for hints of twisted creatures and echoing whispers that seemed to emanate from the very earth itself. I should’ve told the elders, but my curiosity to learn more about these things outweighed my fear.
As the days turned to weeks, my obsession grew, driving me deeper into the heart of the desert. I sought answers to questions that I dared not speak aloud, my mind unraveling with each passing day.
But the more I searched, the more elusive the truth became. It was as if the land itself conspired to keep its secrets hidden, shrouding the truth in layers of darkness that only the most foul creatures can see through.
Then, one moonlit night, as I stood on the edge of the reservation, gazing out into the vast expanse of darkness, I felt a presence looming behind me. I turned, my heart pounding, to confront the stranger once more.
But what stood before me was not a man, but a creature of nightmares, its form twisted and contorted, its eyes burning with an unholy fire. It looked as if evil itself was staring into my soul.
“You have trespassed into my domain, Johna,” the creature hissed, its voice a guttural growl that sent shivers down my spine.
“I only wanted to learn the truth.” I said, trying to keep my voice from sounding like a scared child at that point.
But I realized something, and got a sinking feeling in my heart. My revelation was that I had played right into the hands of the skinwalker, lured by the promise of knowledge and power.
Then, as if reading my mind the creature smiled. It had an awful grin that sent shivers all over my body, but it seemed to be changing. Before my eyes now stood a coyote, it stared at me with that same sinister look as before, only to turn and disappear into the darkness.
I don’t know how I made it home alive. All I know is that I’m never going out in the desert again. I’ve been blessed by a medicine man since then who believes the skinwalker saw something in me. What that is I’ll never know and I hope I never do.