The Wendigo who couldn’t win

The crisp smell of ice filled my nose. Around my den, the world lay quiet and still—except for a lone porcupine, its prickly form nibbling at a strip of bark. I would love to say I watched the ball of spikes as it ate, but hunger gnawed at me, forcing me to my feet. If I didn’t eat today, I would surely die.

Emerging from my underground home amongst the roots, rocks, and rot, I stretched my weary bones. Cracks and pops echoed through the still woods, filling the air around me.

Dusk, the perfect time to begin my hunt.

The humans would be stoking their fires by now, wafting the heavy scent of smoke into the air, making it easy to find my prey—victims who would prolong my immortality and end the maddening gnawing in my stomach. 

I turned to the porcupine beside me. “Can—” My voice cracked.

Ignoring me, the porcupine mindlessly gnawed on its dinner.

Phew.

I cleared my throat to try again. “Can’t waste a moment dawdling… must go find some fresh flesh.” 

Casually, I stepped forward, sneaking a quick glance over my shoulder. Again, my words and footsteps went unnoticed.

Have I lost my touch?

The moment I was out of sight, I checked my hands and my feet, tugging at the scraps that covered my body.

Deathly? Check. Paper-thin skin? Yes. Clothes—filthy and blood splattered? Perfect. Shake it off. It’s just a fat porcupine—too stupid to be scared. The forest will still fear you.

I kept trying to reassure myself as I found an old pine to climb. 

Give the forest something to talk about—something more interesting than your voice cracking like a child’s.

High above, treetops swayed like waves with each gust of wind. Gray clouds filled the starless sky, and frost hung heavily in the air.

It’s freezing. Anybody foolish enough to sleep in my forest would have to light a fire. I just need to wait.

And wait.

And wait.

I tried to remain vigilant, but my thoughts drifted back to my spiky neighbor.

I hope that porcupine doesn’t have many friends, but then again, I doubt it even noticed me. My first emergence in a decade, and it went poorly, at best.

My hope for a meal began to flutter away like a dead leaf on an icy breeze—until I caught the sweet smell of a campfire.

My favorite, smoked human.

With a deep breath through my elongated, skeletal nostrils, I filled my lungs and let out a howl that echoed across the skies. Confidence swelled deep within me.

The forest will echo my name once again! Bark and pine needles will tremble in fear at the rumor of my return. The rocks will—

SNAP.

I suddenly found myself staring up at the black canopy of treetops as a branch crashed down on top of me. Somewhere out of sight, a squirrel chittered with laughter.

Ah, crap. It’ll be hard to live that down.

Using the fallen branch, I covered the impression my body left and threw a cautious glance over my bony shoulders to check for any other witnesses.

Nothing.

After readjusting my tattered clothes, I returned to the trees, hurrying in the direction of my long-awaited meal. My joints, stiff and uncooperative, forced me to move carefully, choosing each branch and every direction with caution.

After a mile of hopping, sticky sap coated my hands as I settled out of reach of the fire’s light, watching the two foolish hikers before their fire.

“I can’t believe you talked me into a winter hike,” the young woman complained as she warmed her hands by the flames. 

“Where’s your sense of adventure?” He chuckled and nudged a pot onto the coals, seeming to fare better in the cold with his broad shoulders and scruffy beard.

He’ll go first.

“Back at home, in the electric blanket, finding out who gets kicked off my show.” 

“Ah, right.” He stood and moved behind her, crouching to wrap her in a tight embrace.

One big, easy, heart-pounding ball of blood-pumping flesh. 

I licked my lips and inspected my sharp talons.

With a few carefully placed nicks, there won’t be much of a fight—and plenty of decorative splatters to rebuild my reputation.

After a few sweet whispers and the presentation of a tiny black box before the fire, the smaller of my two morsels boasted a sparkly ring. The sound of cheers erupted through the camp, followed by tears of joy and a loving embrace.

The perfect distraction. 

With a well-calculated leap, I descended upon them. Screams filled the chilled woods as I did what I do best. When I finished my dance of death, the tent lay in tatters, and blood painted the snow. I sat back before their fire, my stomach engorged. Not a scrap of their bodies went to waste. Using my talents, I picked at my teeth.

That hit the spot.

Tired from my exertion, I patted out their fire and scattered the hot embers into the snow. Once I was certain the risk of a forest fire was mitigated, I gathered myself and waddled back toward my den. I was certain that if I tried to swing from branch to branch, I would come crashing down once again.

By the time I reached my den, my neighbor was long gone. With no squirrels in sight and no signs of owls, I settled in and allowed my stomach to do the long, grueling work of digesting my feast. 

***

During the next sunset, I awoke to the forest alive with chattering. I lay my head back and listened intently to the gossip. 

“Two humans were killed,” one critter called out to the forest.

“Blood everywhere,” another neighbor added.

A smirk pulled at my lipless face.

That’s more like it.

“Rabid coyote…”

Those words caught my attention, and I sat up on my elbows.

“A hungry bear.” 

What? No. It was Me!

“I heard it was a monster,” I yelled, trying to throw my voice.

“My mom says monsters aren’t real,” a high-pitched voice retorted.

“I think it was a bear,” the second added with certainty.

“Oh, come on,” I groaned.