Tomorrow morning, I would be camping with some of my best friends in the gorgeous Acadia campgrounds. I was almost finished packing, shoving camping gear and rumpled clothes into a duffel bag until it was fit to burst. When I was done, I climbed into bed. I could barely sleep due to my excitement. I was jittery when I finally woke up at 6:00 sharp, running downstairs and shoving my duffel bag into the trunk of my car. Today was the day.
The 2 hour-long drive was serene this early in the morning, driving through forested roads and over craggy, verdant cliffs above a sparkling Maine sea. I passed over old stone bridges and between lush valleys, I was astounded by the beauty of it all.
When I finally arrived at the campground, I met my friends at the entrance and we spent the morning setting up our campsite. The rest of the day was spent hiking a few trails and gazing out at the beautiful scenery and breathing in the fresh mountain air. When we got back, we set up Caden’s old camping stove to cook hot dogs and heat up baked beans. It wasn’t much, but it was tasty. As we sat around the campfire, the other denizens of the campground started to go to sleep, lights and lanterns going out. We finally obliged and decided to head to bed as well.
The next morning while we were walking to the small campground shop to get hot coffee and firewood, we noticed an old man sat in a rocking chair under the overhang of a small shed. He looked up at us, and beckoned us over. As we approached, he smiled, his face wrinkling like a raisin in his worn straw hat. “Y’all seem like a nice bunch, so I’ll let you in on a little somethin’.” He breathed in and rocked his chair forward. “Down by them hills over there, there’s a small trail that’s marked with a little ol’ sign. Only the locals know about it, and it’s a damn gorgeous sight at the end, ‘specially at night. I jes figured I’d make someone’s campin’ trip a bit better, I dunno.” he chuckled.
Excited by this news, we thanked him and agreed to check out the trail later. We decided to wait until sunset before driving down to the valley between the two hills he pointed out to us. We got out of our car, breathing in the warm summer air and hearing the crickets chirp. We got out our flashlights and walking sticks. We found the small sign he was talking about after a few minutes and followed the intriguing trail down a bit as the sun sank below the horizon. As it started to become harder to see the winding trail, we turned our flashlights on, their off-white beams illuminating the lush landscape. Suddenly, Jenna stopped, her flashlight fixed on a small, white object off to the side of the trail. Upon closer inspection, it looked to be a small bone. It was interesting, but didn’t really concern us too much. Could have been a bear or something. But as we walked, we started to notice an abundance of animal bones. As we progressed further into the pitch black forest, we noticed some almost-complete animal skeletons too, these ones almost as large as dogs or maybe coyotes. Fetid flesh still hung from their bones. We figured there was probably a bear here, and decided to quickly leave before it could devour us as well. As we walked back along the trail, I had this eerie feeling that I was being watched by someone. Something, maybe. I shrugged it off. I was making a mountain out of a molehill, and we’d be driving back to our campsite in just a few minutes. As we hiked down a small slope, I felt a feeling of deja vu, as if I had just seen this terrain. As we continued, it became apparent that we were walking in circles. Flashlight beams faltering, we became scared. My palms were slick with sweat and my heart was beating fast.
And then we heard it.
A howl.
A bloodcurdling, desperate, voracious shriek.
As soon as I heard it, I knew this was no normal animal. And I started to run, my friends following close behind.
Our flashlight beams waved wildly around in hopes of catching the entity that made the sound as we ran blindly into the forest. I knew we wouldn’t be able to keep up this pace for long. We stopped in a clearing, back-to-back, flashlights held out like clubs. I heard distant footfalls. Branches being broken, leaves being displaced, gravel crunching. Whatever it was, it sounded large, but also lanky. As we slowly paced forward into the forest again, I tried to think of what it could be.
And then I knew.
A wendigo.
We were completely silent. My lungs burned. As the footsteps got closer, Caden took a few more steps into the woods. Jenna and I stayed back, looking in the other direction.
And then I heard it. A large weight being catapulted towards something. Claws and teeth sinking into flesh. Bones cracking like dry branches. Blood pouring onto the leafy floor of the forest. The sounds of utter disembowelment. Screams of agony cut off into silence.
And that’s all there was.
Silence.
As I turned back, my friend was gone. Nothing was there. I turned to my left and Jenna was gone, too. My heart was racing. I heard footsteps over to my right. Human footsteps. I ran towards them, too terrified to see the bloody chunks of Caden dotted around the area, his entrails hanging from the trees like gory party streamers. In another moonlit clearing, I saw Jenna standing there, catching her breath. And as she looked up at me, a massive, furry, blood soaked claw of a hand reached out from the shadows and yanked her back before even a scream could leave her mouth. And yet again, I heard the sounds of the wendigo feasting.
I ran. I ran until I could barely breath. Until my legs and arms shook from the pain. I noticed I had reached the end of the trail. A small dirt cliff extended up into the night sky bordered by a steep dirt slope on either side.
And in that moment, I understood that this was never a trail. There was never a view at the end. This was a trap.
And as the wendigo tore the last bit of raw flesh from my bones, it walked behind a cluster of trees. From behind the trees, a friendly-looking old man started his walk back to the campsite. And as the sun rose, he sat down in his chair at his shed. And as another group of travelers walked past, he beckoned them over, eager to tell them about the trail only the locals knew about.