Well, this has definitely been the most stressful month of my career. To those of you who had read what was effectively only the beginning of this story, and reasonably asked for more info: I’m sorry. I wanted to update you all, to say that things were back to normal, that we were okay, that what happened that night was just a weird joke played on me by the forest. However, that only lasted a few days. Then things got weird again.
When Oliver drove back to the hut, he was none the wiser on whatever happened to the wolf we had found. The vet took samples and sent them to a bigger lab somewhere down south and that was it, no definitive answer. After thinking it through, I had decided not to share my weird experience. I only mentioned our wolves being pretty irritable during the previous evening, and he addressed the weird behavior to the smell of death the carcass of the wolf had spread on the immediate area of the hut. I still didn’t know how impressionable Oliver was to anything remotely supernatural, so mentioning those eyes I had seen would’ve only resulted in one of two things: Oliver either doubting my mental state or freaking out and go in an alerted or slightly paranoid state (kinda like mine). None of these possibilities were really good for our work in the days to come, so I kept my mouth shut. However, I would keep an eye on Oliver day by day, to try and understand if he too happened to see something weird or unexplainable. Nothing like that, so in those first few days I started to relax and lay back, ever so slightly.
Then one of the GPS collars sent out a signal, just like last time. I felt a shiver running up my spine, and it was apparent that Oliver felt the same unease. After all, he was the one to find the first dead wolf. It was no surprise to him when I stated that this time we’d be going together, and it was no surprise to me when I saw him grab the rifle and a bunch of 12 gauge slugs, the ones you’d usually expect to unload on a bear charging at you. So yeah, I could see that while he was handling it really masterfully, a small sense of dread and paranoia had already creeped inside Oliver’s mind during our last days. We drove in silence, each of us silently wondering if we were about to retrieve another massacred carcass.
We did.
But oh boy was it worse this time.
We drove as close as we could to the location, but we’d have to climb down a dense, steep incline for the last stretch. Eventually, we were there. Except, there was nothing around us. We were puzzled at first, wondering if the collar had malfunctioned somehow. This made absolutely no sense, though, as the GPS kept on sending out the signal even while we were there. We shuffled around, looking behind each tree in the vicinity. While looking, I started to notice small traces that hinted at something that had passed through there. Something not small at all, too. At first, it was only the big amount of snapped branches on the ground but, to my horror, the bark of the trees showed signs too. Clean slashes, some low near the roots, but others way above my head. Those eyes, the way they rose up…it all flashed in my mind as my paranoia spiked. Then Oliver shouted and cussed, before frantically calling me to reach him. I darted toward his position, only to find him facing a tree, staring at nothing, shivering. I asked him what was going on, before noticing a rather large pool of blood at the base of the tree. As I kept inspecting, I saw how the blood was still kinda fresh, and how the tree too was covered in it. Before I could properly process what I was seeing, Oliver spoke, without moving, without looking at anything.
“Look up.”
So I did.
Up in the branches, there was a dead wolf, pinned up against the tree. Even in the shock of the moment, the whole seemingly impossible dynamic of what had happened appeared clear: a rather long and thick branch was snapped near its base leaving only a pointed wooden spike, that was then used to pierce the body of the hopefully already deceased animal, leaving it pinned to the tree for whatever reason. Was it there for display? Was it there for later consumption? My head kept racing through all the questions, before reaching the most horrific of possibilities: was this a bait to lure us here? My blood froze, and I stood there in shock and awe, once again feeling exposed and vulnerable. Oliver spoke first, something along the lines of “how are we going to retrieve the carcass?”. Obviously, there was nothing we could have done. We would have to gather some more men and come back with all the gear to climb the tree and safely retrieve what remained of the poor animal.
So we backed away from the scene, each one of us silently scanning our backs from time to time, scared as hell. We made it back to the pick up, drove back to the hut and called in for reinforcements. The team of climbers showed up to the cabin in the early afternoon, right after another anomaly hit us: the GPS had stopped sending its signal. This simple thing shook us even more, and we found ourselves rather hesitant to wonder why the damn thing stopped working so suddenly. After all, we had a few hours of sunlight at best, and we’d have to make the best of them. So we drove back in a hurry and walked right on the spot.
We found nothing. No wolf, only blood and guts around the tree and on that damned wooden spike. Surprise soon led to anger and frustration, and Oliver started darting around the place, rifle in hand, looking for any trace of the animal. He was only met with the same immovable silence of the forest, hiding away its secrets, silently laughing at us. The climbers didn’t know how to react. I believe some of them initially thought of it as us trying to prank them, but all the blood evidently washed away every doubt. They remained silent, unsure of what to make of the situation. We decided to give up and go back to the cabin. Still no answer to be found.
This marked the start of a macabre routine for me and Oliver. Every couple of days, another collar would start beeping. Each time it happened, we prepared for the worst. And each time, we were right. Dead wolves started showing up around the forest, always in seemingly impossible situations, always in pitiful conditions, killed in the most violent and grotesque ways. We found them disemboweled, decapitated, pinned on branches, tore apart. Seeing these wonderful animals reduced to red pulps gutted us to the very core. We never thought we’d see such cruelty on these poor animals, and somehow whatever was doing this kept raising the bar over and over and over with each one of its preys. Our mood worsened, paranoia took over and we started talking less and less, both of us trying to find any sort of answers within ourselves. We decided to stay at the hut without letting anyone else join us for the time being. We didn’t want to put them in any form of danger or stress. We decided that we had to be the ones to see this through. After a few weeks of this we finally noticed another alarming aspect: I had started to pin point the locations of the killings, and it appeared clear as day that they were getting closer, tracing a tighter and tighter circle around the hut.
That was it, whatever was out there had come right at our gates in the beginning, and then, instead of attacking us head on, had started toying with us for whatever cruel reason. I eventually shared my experience with Oliver, only to be met with anger and pent up aggression. He was right: I should have told him sooner. We decided it was time to abandon the cabin for some time, to prepare our wolves and to transport them somewhere safe, as far as possible. Our last day at the cabin was frantic: Oliver spent the day at the phone, trying to arrange a transportation and a new home for our residents, while I darted around the place getting everything ready and packed up. We were absolutely crushed when the personnel responsible for moving the wolves announced that they would only be able to reach us the following morning. This meant one more night in the frontline. The last one hopefully.
Obviously, it couldn’t have been that easy. It was around 8pm that I noticed something that nearly cracked me: the collective and violent growling of our wolves. Me and Oliver shared an horrified look. He bolted up, reached for the rifle and ran at the door, peeking through the glass panels. I made my way to him, and he instructed me to open the door while aimed down the sights. We stepped outside. Artemis, Ice, Tia and Dawn were on high alert, ferociously growling at the tree line outside their fence. Eventually, something massive moved and shuffled in the dark. It was enough to send Oliver in a panicked rage, and he unloaded his first round in the general direction of the movement we had just heard. The wolves went quiet. Everything did.
Then, the most atrocious and wild shriek we’d ever heard rose from the tree line. All our wolves cowered back in fear and retreated to their enclosures. In the midst of all the chaos, the shuffling resumed louder and something suddenly flew from the darkness of the trees right at us, hitting the side of the hut mere steps away from us. In the glow of the service lights we saw that it was yet another wolf carcass. Oliver shrieked back, charging and unloading shots as fast as possible while we darted back in the cabin. Once inside, we heard the horrible wail continue a little more, getting less and less loud, before silence once again fell on us. We spent the rest of the night in total paranoia, continuously looking out the windows, screaming and shooting at every hint of movement around us. By dawn, we were exhausted, pretty much dead inside. We only managed to let out a sigh of relief when the team that would help us move the wolves showed up earlier than we thought. By then, we had already hidden the body of the wolf that was thrown at us, and we had tried our best to unwind from the terrifying night we had just lived through. I guess it didn’t help much, though, as demonstrated by the confused looks on the guys’ face each time we’d jump at any noise and each time one of us would momentarily phase out to scan the area around us.
Eventually, the wolves were gone, hopefully headed to a safer place. We stayed in silence once again, pondering our options. We felt like what had happened last night wasn’t a proper attack. It was a sort of final warning. None of us could tell if it meant whether that thing wanted us gone or wanted us dead. Part of us wanted answers, some kind of justice. But part of us wanted to live. The forest kept its secret hidden, still probably laughing at us. We had a dream, a mission. Shutting the doors of the hut felt like huge a defeat, but at least it was a defeat we’d be able to talk about. Whatever was in the woods, we left it there for the time being. The option of facing that thing requires a shit ton of preparation, men willing to chase an unknown white whale and all of our courage. We’ll get there, eventually. Just not today.