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Going camping in the woods during peak color season felt to Alfred like the best decision he could have made. The scenery was beautiful: the leaves on the trees had changed to various reds, oranges, yellows, and browns. For the leaves on the ground, the crunch sound they made when stepped on was very satisfying to his ears. The sound of the animals preparing for winter enhanced the feeling of being one with nature. This was the perfect place to go to in order to escape the city.
In addition, he managed to bring Matthew, Arthur, and Gilbert with him as well. The plan was that it would be just the four of them for a week out in the woods. In Alfred’s mind, it was bound to be a blast.
The first few days had gone by without a hitch. Some of the activities that the four had indulged in included hiking, picnics, campfires, fishing, and swimming in the cold river.
Now, it was the end of the third night. Everyone was comfortable in their sleeping bags. Alfred and Arthur shared one tent, while Matthew and Gilbert shared the other. Just outside, the remnants of the campfire were barely holding on.
None of the campers were prepared for the sudden blizzard to strike. It was a massive storm, covering the entire area in a sea of white in only a few hours. The wind blew strongly, threatening to blow the tents away. The campfire had died minutes after the blizzard started; now nothing more than snow on top of ashes, burnt wood, and stone.
Arthur, being a light sleeper, had woken up to the sound of the tent flapping in the wind. He moved to put his weight on a section that lifted slightly into the air.
Where the hell did this bloody storm come from?
Meanwhile, Alfred was still sleeping. How he did not wake up to the sounds of the storm, Arthur didn’t know. Arthur reached over to shake Alfred.
“Alfred! Alfred, wake up! The tent is going to blow away!”
Alfred yawned. He peeked an eye open to look at Arthur.
“What do you mean…?”
The sounds of the storm registered in Alfred’s mind the next moment.
“Oh shit!”
Together, the two managed to keep their tent from blowing away. When part of the tent that neither of them were sitting on lifted off the ground, they were able to get a glimpse of what was going on outside.
“This is quite the blizzard!” Alfred shouted while he held down his section of the tent.
“Tell me about it!” Arthur said sarcastically in response.
“How long has it been going on?!”
“No idea!”
They didn’t know how long they held out against the storm. They were too occupied with keeping the tent down to really keep track.
Eventually, the wind died down enough to where the tent was no longer in danger of flying away. Alfred and Arthur collectively let out a sigh in relief. They made it through the storm.
Alfred unzipped the tent flap just enough to get a look at the weather conditions. It was still relatively dark outside, but it was not pitch black. Dawn was right around the corner. The snow lightened up too, now not nearly as blinding as it had been earlier.
“I say give it another hour at most. The storm seems close to passing.” Alfred zipped the tent flap back up.
“Did you see Matthew and Gilbert?” Arthur asked.
“I got a glance at the outline of their tent. I think they’re going to be okay. We’ll check when the storm clears.”
Alfred laid back down on his sleeping bag. He pulled additional blankets onto himself to combat the cold. Arthur did the same, wanting at least a few more minutes of sleep after the near heart attack he got.
Neither of them were truly able to go back to sleep. The wind, although much calmer, kept them up. They still felt the adrenaline from fighting against the wind course through their bodies. The best that either of them were going to get was a light doze for only a few minutes.
After about 45 minutes, they decided to just get up for the day. Alfred dug through his bag for the granola that he kept. Arthur opted to eat some of the bread from his own bag. They got dressed for the day, putting on an extra layer in preparation for the cold that the blizzard brought along.
Upon opening the tent flap, Alfred was greeted with a little snow falling on him. He brushed it off of himself. He was able to unzip the tent flap downwards until about a foot from the ground. He only stopped so that more snow didn’t get inside the tent.
“It looks like about a foot of snow fell last night.” Alfred observed.
“Fuck. That’s a lot.” But Arthur could believe it, based on what he saw of the storm itself.
“It’s impressive for this time of year. The real snowfall doesn’t usually start until another 1-2 months.”
By the time that they stepped outside, the sun was trying to get through the clouds. Patches of sunlight shone on the ground, showcasing just how much snow the storm left behind. Looking to their right revealed that Matthew’s and Gilbert’s tent was still standing, albeit a bit buried in the snow like their own tent.
“See?” Alfred looked back at Arthur. “Told you that they’ll be okay.” Alfred walked over towards the other tent. He paused when he was halfway between the two tents, making a face.
Arthur had an identical reaction as Alfred when he got to the same spot. He put his hand over his nose. “Do you smell that?”
“Yeah. It smells awful.” Alfred didn’t have an idea what the smell was, nor where it came from. But it seemed like the source was nearby.
“I’m surprised that neither Matthew or Gilbert are out here complaining.” Arthur took a hold of the zipper. “Matthew? Gilbert? Are you in there?” After a few seconds of silence, Arthur unzipped the tent flap.
Immediately after opening the tent, Alfred and Arthur were assaulted by a much stronger version of the nasty odor. In reflex, both of them backed away gagging.
“Oh god what the hell?” Alfred coughed in a failed attempt to get the odor out of his mouth. He had the misfortune of being able to taste it on his tongue.
Arthur was in danger of throwing up. But he was able to keep the vomit down. “You can go look in the tent.”
Bracing himself, Alfred unzipped the tent as far as he could go before meeting the snow on the ground. He pushed the flaps to the side to peer inside.
“Matt?” Alfred’s eyebrows rose up in confusion at the sight presented to him. The inside of the tent was a mess. Sleeping bags, blankets, and clothes were scattered across the ground. Some snow had also gotten into the tent during the blizzard too. The cooler that all of their meat was stored in was tossed on its side, emptied of its contents.
But Alfred’s gaze was drawn to the center of it all, where there was a human-sized lump. That human sized lump was Matthew, who was very clearly dead. His torso was torn open, exposing his insides. A good number of organs were either torn apart or just straight up missing. The ribcage was also visible, with a few of the bones cracked. Matthew’s skin was pale from what was presumedly massive blood loss. His mouth was open in a silent scream, along with his eyes still open in what was most likely terror before his death. Blood had gotten everywhere on Matthew’s body and within a foot radius. One of his legs was severely broken to the point that bone was visible. Flies flew around, already interested in the corpse. It would not be too long before other insects joined them. It was also a no-brainer where the disgusting odor came from.
Alfred quickly retreated from the tent. His face turned a shade of green as he fought down the vomit that threatened to come up.
Arthur, who had recovered from feeling ill, threw a questioning look at Alfred.
“Decay.” Alfred gasped between breaths and swallowed to keep the vomit down. “That’s what we are smelling.” He put a hand on his mouth.
Curious and frightened, Arthur looked inside the tent. He pulled his head out of the tent almost immediately. The nausea he fought earlier came back at full force. He only made it a few feet away before throwing up his breakfast onto the snow.
Both of them rushed back to their own tent. Out of paranoia, Alfred zipped up the tent flap once they were inside. Neither of them spoke, not wanting to believe what they just saw was real. Looks were exchanged between the two, ranging from fear to sad to concern.
“I can’t believe that Matthew is dead.” Alfred sniffed. He started to cry as the reality of his brother’s death began to settle in.
“What even happened to him?” Arthur drank some water to sooth his aching throat. “It looked like he was mauled alive.”
“I don’t know. But it looked like a gruesome way to go.” Alfred brought his knees up this chest. He hugged himself tightly.
“There was also no sign of Gilbert.” Arthur scooted himself over so that he was next to Alfred. He rubbed his hand in circles against Alfred’s back. He felt obligated to comfort Alfred, but did not know how to best go about it.
“Yeah. What happened to him? Did he suffer the same fate as Matt?” Alfred speculated. “I don’t remember seeing any sign of him when we were outside.”
“Me neither.” Arthur frowned. “But we can’t stay here anymore. Matthew’s dead, Gilbert’s missing, and we may be next.”
“You’re right. We have to let the police know what happened here.” Alfred wiped the remaining tears away from his eyes.
“I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to go back in that tent.” Arthur sighed. “We may be left with what we have in here to get us through in getting back to civilization.”
“Yeah. It’s unfortunate that everything in that tent is basically lost. I don’t want to touch anything that got blood and stuff on it.”
Silently, the two packed what supplies they had in their bags. A good portion of their food was in the other tent, which would be left behind. Their sleeping bags, blankets, and clothes were packed tight. As a precaution, they planned to take their lanterns and some matches. They also decided to leave their tent behind. While the campsite was in the middle of the woods, it had taken them less than a day’s walk from the forest edge to get there. In addition, should a miracle happen in which Gilbert came back to the campsite, he would be given a place to sleep.
Alfred felt guilty that he would not be able to give his brother a proper burial. There was nothing anyone could have given him that would persuade him to touch Matthew’s dead body. It had begun to decay, which made it even more of a hazard.
By the time that the men stepped back outside, clouds had moved in to cover the sun once again. The wind began to pick up slightly, making them shiver a bit. They knew that they had to move quickly in order to escape the horrors that possibly awaited them. But the most important thing was to look for signs of other people. Any aid that they could receive at the moment would be accepted gratefully.
Even though the signs pointed towards another storm while Alfred and Arthur walked, they still pressed on. They hoped that whatever came upon them would be minor. They didn’t have much of a choice, after all. Unfortunately, another stroke of bad luck fell upon them. Another storm made its way through, blasting them with snow. They were quickly blinded by white. It also got darker quicker than expected.
Alfred scrambled to light a match while Arthur held out the lantern. After two minutes of struggling, a flame was lit. Arthur shielded the lantern from getting extinguished while Alfred discarded the match.
“We need to find shelter to wait out the storm!” Alfred shouted so that Arthur could hear him.
“I don’t remember seeing anything on the way!” Arthur shouted back.
“Hopefully we find something quick!”
The two held hands so that they would not get separated. They continued on in the direction they were walking in, hoping for a stroke of good fortune. Unbeknownst to them, because of not being able to see in front them very well and with how much snow was on the ground, they drifted off the path. Their progress was also slowed down, as the snow grew more difficult to walk in. They lamented over not having snowshoes.
The familiar scent of dead flesh reached Arthur’s and Alfred’s noses. Although it was not as bad as Matthew’s corpse. A few feet ahead, two figures could be made out. One of them was on the ground, most likely dead and the source of the smell, while the other appeared to be standing. Several noises could faintly be made out from the howling wind: something goopy being moved around; heavy breathing; and crunching noises, as if the creature’s mouth was open while chewing something.
Alfred and Arthur froze in their tracks. Whatever was happening, they did not want to be involved. They looked at each other, wondering what to do.
The creature answered the question for them. Whatever appeared to be eating froze. It moved a little in the direction of the two men, stepping into the faint light provided by Arthur’s lantern.
Arthur put a hand to his mouth while Alfred audibly gasped. The creature turned out to be Gilbert. Except it was not Gilbert. Patches of his hair had fallen out, showcasing bald spots. His clothes were torn up and had blood stains scattered all over. A notable amount of blood, both fresh and dried, were on his face near his mouth and on his hands. Not-Gilbert’s eyes were bloodshot. The crazed look in them implied that the real Gilbert was not truly there. He grinned at them, displaying his blood-covered teeth.
“Run.” Alfred whispered in panic. He frantically nudged Arthur in case the other did not hear him.
Luckily, Arthur got the message. Alfred and Arthur ran as fast as they could across the snow. Although they were really traveling at the average walking speed for dry ground. Neither of them knew where they were going at this point, but the only priority they had at the moment was getting away from not-Gilbert. They also didn’t know how long they ran for. Their bodies operated on autopilot.
Finally, things seemed to align for Arthur and Alfred. The snowfall lightened up, allowing them to see further ahead. Additionally, they found a cabin in a small clearing. The building looked abandoned, but it will have to do for temporary shelter.
Alfred let out a happy cry at the front door being unlocked. The two rushed inside, slamming the door shut behind them. They leaned against the door while panting for breath. It took a few minutes for them to recover and process what just happened.
Seeing the interior confirmed that the cabin was abandoned. Dust and spiderwebs were everywhere, but that was nothing compared to the sights seen within the past few hours. No additional food supplies could be found in any of the rooms, but that was fine. They still had the stuff they carried with them in their bags to work with.
It was a good thing that they found the cabin too. The snowfall picked up again, adding to the already impressive totals. Since the second blizzard did not seem to be calming down anytime soon, Alfred and Arthur made themselves comfortable.
“So, we found Gilbert.” Arthur said. “But what in the world was that that we saw?”
“That is no longer Gilbert.” Alfred corrected with sadness in his voice. “What we saw was a wendigo.”
“That’s a wendigo?” Arthur asked in disbelief.
“You’re used to the ones depicted as a deer head on top of a wolf’s body. What we saw is more in line with the Native American version.” Alfred explained. “In the stories I was told during childhood, wendigos are malicious spirits who possess humans. They typically take advantage of a person’s greed and/or hunger in order to possess them. A person can become possessed by a wendigo through their dreams.”
“So you’re saying…?” The words got caught in Arthur’s throat as the pieces came together.
Alfred nodded grimly. “I believe that a wendigo spirit possessed Gilbert in his sleep. When he woke up afterwards, he would have felt an intense craving for flesh that was too powerful to resist. Meanwhile, Matthew was right next to him, snoozing away. He made the perfect target for the wendigo’s first meal with Gilbert’s body.”
Arthur reached over to hold Alfred’s hand in comfort. He knew there had not been a real chance to mourn the loss of Matthew. And now mourn the loss of Gilbert too. “Is there anyway we can save Gilbert?”
“No.” Alfred shook his head. Tears gathered up in his eyes again. “At least, not that I know of. All the stories and depictions I’ve heard make it sound like once the wendigo has entered someone’s body, the person doesn’t have the ability to resist. The possession was definitely recent, as Gilbert hadn’t gone through all the physical transformations yet to fully become a wendigo.”
“Do I want to know the details regarding rest of the transformations?” Arthur asked with fear in his voice. Not getting a response from Alfred provided all the information that Arthur needed. “Welp, I guess the best thing at this point is to kill the wendigo if we encounter it again. At least to let Gilbert truly rest in peace.”
Alfred agreed with Arthur’s assessment. He explained to Arthur the various methods he had heard that could kill a wendigo: a steel, silver, or iron bullet; a dagger made of the same material; or the heart must be cut out and melted, or burned. Although Alfred also warned Arthur that he was not sure if any of the methods were actually effective. After all, he didn’t believe that wendigos were real before today.
Then, the topics of wendigos and death were dropped for the rest of the night. They rehydrated and ate some of the food that they still had. Exhaustion finally caught up to Alfred and Arthur. Within the safety the cabin provided, they were able to spent some time properly mourning the loss of two friends. They held onto each other, not wanting to think about losing the other. Eventually, they fell asleep in each other’s arms.
~~~
A loud bang just outside of the cabin woke Alfred and Arthur up in the middle of the night. They looked over in the direction of where the banging came from, but all they saw was nothing. Another bang against the same wall made them flinch.
“What the hell is that?” Alfred stage whispered.
“Is it the wendigo?” Arthur wondered out loud.
Another bang at the wall. It was clear that whatever was striking the wall was trying to break in.
“It probably is.” Alfred started to pack his stuff back in his bag.
The locked front door and the windows being boarded up were the only saving graces they had. But those weren’t completely good news, as they don’t have a way to check if it really was not-Gilbert out there.
Bang!
Arthur followed suit in packing up his bag. They needed to leave while not-Gilbert was occupied with breaking down the wall.
Alfred investigated the back for a way out. Unfortunately, opening up the back door revealed a wall of snow. A massive snow drift accumulated right by the door and the entire back wall. The windows there were boarded up there too.
A quick run through of the rest of the cabin revealed that all of the windows were boarded up. The only exit they had was the front door. But that put them right in not-Gilbert’s path. They were essentially trapped.
“The only way we can leave is through the front door.” Alfred reported back to Arthur, who finished packing his bag.
“Bloody hell. We have to fight that thing, don’t we?”
“It’s the only shot we have at surviving.”
Another bang resulted in some wood pieces flying in their direction, causing the men to back away. The metal of a large hammer gleamed at them in the moonlight. They could also see part of a bloody hand holding the hammer, confirming that not-Gilbert had found them.
Alfred wished that they had a gun. Something as small as a few bullets to render not-Gilbert immobile could make a huge difference.
They scrambled to find something to use as a weapon. There were some knives in the kitchen drawers, but all of them were too dull to do much damage. Although a look underneath the bed in the bedroom revealed a baseball bat that was still in good condition from being stored in a case. Alfred took that for a weapon. Meanwhile, Arthur decided to try the dull knives anyway. With enough force, maybe he could distract or stun the creature.
The plan that they roughly came up with was to wait on either side of the door way in the bedroom, out of sight from not-Gilbert. This would lure the creature away from the front entrance. When the wendigo passed through, they would attack the creature at the same time in hope of doing enough damage in order to give them the opportunity to escape.
Just as both of them got into position, they heard the outer wall get destroyed. They looked at each other, eyes wide. Not-Gilbert was now in the cabin.
While they waited, they could hear not-Gilbert slamming the hammer around. A few times, it sounded like the wendigo was right outside the room that they were hiding in with how loud it was. Those moments made them flinch in fear.
Although a few minutes later, the wendigo still had not entered the bedroom. This confused Alfred, as he would have expected not-Gilbert to come straight for them. He knew wendigos had strong senses of sight, hearing, and smell. Stronger than humans, at least. But the did not want to risk peeking out into the hallway. He didn’t need the wendigo to spot him too soon.
After what felt like an eternity, the hammer noises quieted down. Alfred and Arthur gave each other confused looks, wondering what the wendigo was up to. The silence lingered on for a few minutes. It was more frightening than the banging noises.
Arthur looked at Alfred again. He gestured towards himself and Alfred. Then he pointed at the doorway, which was followed by a hand gesture that mimicked a person walking. Do we try to escape?
Alfred pondered on the situation. He tried to think of the best move. With the silence, he realized that the second blizzard from earlier had almost passed. There was only a slight wind making the cabin creak. After a few moments, he nodded at Arthur. He put a finger to his lips, tapping them a few times.
Slowly, Alfred peeked his head out into the hallway. He looked in both directions, not seeing the wendigo anywhere. Alfred was surprised, because he half-expected not-Gilbert to attack him right then and there. He made another gesture towards Arthur, this time indicating that he was to follow.
While the two tip-toed down the hallway, they were able to get a look at the damage. Most of the walls were broken. There were some cracks, but holes littered the walls. A few were the same size as the hammerhead, but others were large enough to fit an entire person through. With every other step, the floorboards creaked, which made Alfred and Arthur flinch every time. It sounded way too loud.
The exit was nearly in sight when they heard a cracking noise coming from above. The noise sounded too much like the noise a tree would make before falling over. Alfred and Arthur froze in response. They looked upwards in the direction of the noise, trying to see what was going on. A strong wind gust suddenly hit the cabin again, which would be enough to cause their downfall. There was no time to react to the roof suddenly falling through and landing on top of them. All they heard and saw was wood falling on them for a brief moment. Then everything went black.
~~~
About half an hour passed by when Alfred regained consciousness. Initially, all Alfred saw was black. It took his eyes and mind a few moments to register that he was looking up at wood. He remembered instantly what happened that led him to this current situation: camping; the wendigo; running with Arthur; the cabin collapsing with them inside it.
Oh shit. Arthur!
Feeling a rush of adrenaline, Alfred pushed the wood off of his upper body. Luckily, there was not a lot on him to begin with. Within moments, he was able to see the sky again. It was still dark outside, but it was confirmed that the second blizzard had passed since no more snow fell to the ground.
With some effort, Alfred pushed himself into sitting position. He winced at the feeling of sharp pain coming from one of his legs. More careful this time, Alfred moved some of the debris off of his lower body. He paled at the sight of a large piece of wood that had impaled itself into his right calf, just below the knee. Even worse, the wood hadn’t just impaled into his leg, it impaled through his leg. A good margin of it stuck out on the other side.
Only now, did Alfred seem to register the noises coming from beside him. He somehow got paler when he recognized the noises as the same ones he had heard a few hours ago when he and Arthur had encountered the wendigo feasting on a dead animal. Fearing the worst, Alfred looked over to his left. Immediately, Alfred had to put his hands over his mouth.
A few meters away, not-Gilbert was feasting on Arthur’s corpse. His body was similar to Matthew’s in that his torso was torn open; bodily innards exposed for all of those that can see. Blood dripped all over Arthur’s body and soaked into what remained of his clothes. The wendigo was having a feast.
Alfred knew in the back of his mind that Gilbert was gone mentally, and only the wendigo remained. But when not-Gilbert’s physical appearance still had a strong resemblance to his friend, all Alfred could see in that moment was one of his closest friends committing cannibalism. All of this with his other two closest friends as victims, and now possibly himself.
Not-Gilbert was taking its time eating Arthur’s corpse. It seemed that it wanted to ensure that Alfred suffered mentally one last time before death.
With his leg in the condition that it was currently in, Alfred knew that he could not escape on his own. He had been the one rendered immobile in a cruel twist of fate. While he still could, Alfred prayed for a last-minute miracle to at least save himself, since it was too late for Arthur. The extra few minutes gave Alfred the opportunity to realize and voice his regrets to himself. Additionally, he was able to mourn one last time for the loss of his three closest friends. He hoped to join Arthur and Matthew in death. As for Gilbert, he knew that wendigos struggled to survive during the winter due to lack of food sources. He hoped that the wendigo would die sooner rather than later, allowing Gilbert to truly rest in peace.
A quiet chuckle made Alfred look back at not-Gilbert. The wendigo licked some of the fresh blood off of his fingers. Not-Gilbert smiled devilishly at Alfred, and slowly moved closer to him.
This is how I die.
Alfred closed his eyes. He could not bring himself to look at the monster that was about to eat him alive. He let out a powerful scream at the feeling of sharp claws digging into his flesh. It was so much pain; the worst that he had ever felt in his life. Why must he be awake for any of this at all? It clicked for Alfred that this is what Matthew must have felt right before he died too. And maybe Arthur; Alfred would never know.
In his final moments alongside his screams, tears fell down Alfred’s face. He didn’t feel his blood getting on other parts of his body, so overwhelmed with pain and emotions. Thankfully, Alfred’s suffering did not last for more than a minute, as his mind shut down from the over stimuli of pain signals.
Maybe in another life, Alfred and friends would not be so unlucky.