Genre Spinning

The Wendigo: Fiction

"The Wendigo, The Wendigo!

Its eyes are ice and indigo!

Its blood is rank and yellowish!

Its voice is hoarse and bellowish!

…The Wendigo, The Wendigo!

I saw it just a friend ago!

Last night it lurked in Canada;

Tonight, on your veranada!

As you are lolling hammockwise

It contemplates you stomachwise.

You loll, It contemplates, It lollops.

The rest is merely gulps and gollops."

~From the poem, “The Wendigo”

            Shadows danced in the cold gaze of the moon, twisting and morphing with distant silhouettes. The trees shook their bare limbs, creaking and moaning, trying to stay alive. Zephyr's cold winter breath howled through their gnarled branches, adding to the cacophony of nature. Not a soul was about on this vacant night: none but a scared little boy named Arthur.

            He was very thin and very pale, with dark hair that seemed to stand on end, accentuating his bewildered expression. The dingy clothes on his back clung to his wiry frame, which was now trembling in fear. His hollow, sunken eyes scanned the nightmarish scene before him, trying in vain to make sense of where he was. Arthur had no recollection of how he got here, but wanted desperately to get out.

            The boy had an uncanny feeling that he was being watched. This suspicion was only heightened when he heard a sudden rustling behind him. Spinning around, he attempted to catch a glimpse of his adversary, but to no avail. Whatever animal was following him began to snarl. Its growls and hisses seemed to come from all directions, reverberating off of the barren surroundings. Arthur twisted his neck, straining to see his antagonist. What he saw was truly horrifying.

            Standing over fifteen feet tall, an emaciated monster stood before him. His icy glowing eyes stared into young Arthur's soul, stupefying him, as long yellowed fangs ripped into his flesh. He did not notice the pain at first, as he was under the creature's spell. The fiend's two tongues flicked at him, tasting the blood pouring from his wounds. Jolted out of his stupor, Arthur managed to escape the beast. Looking up in horror, he realized what was before him. It was a Wendigo, creature of myths and fairytales. No! This couldn't be real, he thought. Wendigos do NOT exist!

            In Arthur's brief moment of hesitation, the Wendigo had caught up to him. It lunged forward, eyes of fire, preparing to deal a fatal blow.

            With a horrified gasp, Arthur jolted up. Relieved, he found himself safe in bed, his cozy little park bench, layered with stale old newspapers. The prior events had all been a nightmare, though he could not keep himself from thinking about the old wives’ tale. They say, if you dream of a Wendigo, one will possess you. Arthur dismissed the thought with an uneasy shudder. It's just a silly superstition, he told himself. Nothing to worry about.

            Rubbing feeling into his numb limbs, Arthur sat up. As he stretched, he took in big gulps of air, calming his nerves. The ground around his bench was littered with old McDonald's wrappers and plastic cups. Looking down at his dirt-stained hands, he sighed. What he would give to have a warm bed, a bath, or even fresh food again, nobody else could quite understand. It had been so long since he last had these everyday conveniences, and he missed every minute of them. People drove by in their fancy cars, unaware of this poor little boy living on a park bench, going about their busy lives without a thought.

            Later that night, a car pulled up in front of Arthur's park bench. The car door opened, and out stepped a middle-aged woman with kind eyes and a sweet smile. She kneeled down to his level, as he was only eleven years old, and said those four little words he had been waiting to hear. "I'm here to help," she told him. "I found a home for you. How would you like that, dearie?" Arthur did something he hadn't done in ages: he smiled. He could finally have a place to live again! Arthur was completely overjoyed, though utterly dumbstruck. His lips tried to form words, tried to express his immense gratitude. All he could manage was a big hug, though, for the woman, it was thanks enough.

            All of a sudden, Arthur felt a strange sensation. It was as if he was being stretched and compressed at the same time. His fingers grew into sharp talons, and his mouth became crowded with fangs. The world around him seemed to shrink, though it was he who was growing. Arthur began craving human flesh, and though the thought horrified him, he couldn't withstand the urge. His mind became a prisoner inside his new body, not being able to control its actions.

            In a flash, his kind benefactor, now trembling in horror, was scooped up in his enormous claws and swallowed whole. The taste of her blood was delicious, though there was another taste too: fear. Fear is what drives Wendigos to kill. They feed off of the negative energy, as it gives them their power.

            So shocked by what he had done, Arthur didn't even notice that he began to change back into his normal self. Ashamed and petrified, he sat down on his park bench and began to weep. This had been his chance to have a real life again. That woman just wanted to help him; she had done no wrong! He wondered if he would be doomed to live the rest of his life like this, powerless against the being that possessed him. I'll think of something, he told himself. He wiped away the tears from his eyes and the blood dribbling down his chin. Sniffling, he stood up, and proceeded to walk away from the scene of the tragedy.

            "Hey, kid!" Arthur heard someone shout. Turning his head the slightest amount, he paused. "Yeah, you!" They clarified. "Who-I mean-What are you?"

            "Get away from me!" Arthur warned. "You don't know what I'm capable of!" He added. But neither do I, he thought.

            Placing a hand on the young boy's shoulder, the stranger jerked Arthur towards him. "I saw what you did. You killed that woman. And I'm calling the cops." The man threatened, pulling out his cell phone.

            The whimpering boy stood dazed and confused. First, he was alone and unnoticed by the world, but now he was a criminal. He would rot in prison, and never see the light of day again. Maybe prison won’t be so bad, after all, he thought. At least he would have food in his stomach and a place to sleep. At that moment, Arthur felt the change happening again. Oh, no! he thought. "You should run!" He began to warn the man, but by that time, the Wendigo had taken over.

            Arthur struggled to resist the temptation of meat. He wanted to block out the evil thoughts in his mind. But try as he might, the Wendigo could not be stopped. The boy could do nothing but watch the man's face as he ate him too. This was absolutely horrible, and yet Arthur could not stop it. He had no choice but to slaughter these innocent people. He felt more and more powerless until the Wendigo controlled everything, not only his body. Arthur no longer existed. Though he appeared to be the same boy, inside, he was nothing but a ruthless killer. Arthur was never seen or heard from again, and nor have his victims. There have been hundreds of mysterious disappearances near that park, though no witnesses have ever been found. Everything is never as it seems, for we all hide the monsters within us.