When Night Descends
It was a crisp fall night in Northern Minnesota. A wind was pulling the dying leaves off the trees. The leaves scampered along the ground, creating their own sound, while overhead the moonlight cast light across the yard. The movement of the trees, caused the moonlight to dance and hide. Shadows moved, twisting among the trees.
Looking out the bedroom window that I shared with my two brothers, seeing things that were not there. Bending trees, became monsters. The swirling leaves became the ''little people'' coming up from center earth.
I edged closer to the window until my breath was leaving its mark. My hand touched the window, the cold glass sent a chill through my body.
Something moved out in the yard. I jumped back from the widow. No, I told myself, don't be a sissy, it was nothing. I edged back to the window, now my nose pushing against the glass. I became mesmerized by the moving moonlight, the faint music of the dancing leaves, and the trees, ever moving, back and forth, their branches became arms, reaching out, searching, always searching.
Now, my face and hands were against the window, looking out, searching, but for what.
A shadow flashed across the window. I jumped backward, my heart pounding, tripping over the small rug, that was one of the few personal items in the room, I landed on the stone floor hard. Lying on the floor, I looked up at the window, waiting for a monster to come through it. I scrambled to my feet, not knowing if I should run out of the room, or try to hide before the thing got me.
Rushing through my mind were the stories my Nookomis (grandmother) had told me about the Wendigo. Nothing came through the window, as I let out a breath that I felt like I'd been holding for hours.
Then, I heard a noise on the roof right over my room. Was it branches blown by the wind? there it was again, it was moving across the roof, towards the edge of the roof, right over the window.
Paralyzed by fear, the story my Nookomis had told me of the Wendigo raced through my mind.
Many times bigger than a full-grown man. The Wendigo was gaunt, its never-ending hunger left it on the verge of starvation. With its bones pushing out against the skin, its complexion the ash gray of death. What lips it had were bloody and ragged from the constant chewing with jagged teeth. The Wendigo gave off the eerie odor of decay and decomposition, of death and corruption.
When the Wendigo was to attack a human being, a dark snow cloud would shroud its upper body from the waist up. The air would turn cold so that the trees crackled. Then a wind would rise, no more than a breath at first, but in moments whining and driving, transformed into a blizzard.
Behind the odor and chill of death and the killing blizzard came the Wendigo.
It was coming for me. The window burst in, the wind and the chill of death were in the room, and there it was, the Weendigo, its body covered by a dark cloud.
It reached for me. I was screaming, I was going to die.
I was shaken. ''Animikii, what is wrong?'', it was my mother shaking me. Terrified I looked around, my brothers were shaking, looking at me with fear on their faces.
''Aminikii, Aminikii, it's a dream, your having a dream my son''.
I looked around, I was in our bedroom, brothers and mother there, my father standing in the doorway. I was safe.
Was it a dream? Would the Wendigo come for me again?
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Kids imagination running wild, or was it?
Maybe.....
cool horror story!
One of my favorites from you Kavika - Miigwech.
Happy that you enjoyed it, 1st. Don't look over your shoulder the Wendigo may be catching up...LOL
You do a brilliant job of building tension and suspense.
Thanks, Buzz.
#@%& !!!
Awesome story. Wendigo always scary. Frightening thought that such a entity could exist.
Gee...I was sitting here hoping it doesn't
Heehee... I think there are more things that exist than some might believe.
Nookomis and Misnomis (grandma and grandpa) say there is a Wendigo and they don't lie.
Of course the Wendigo exists, there is no doubt. Grandma said so.
Grammas are always right
I don't like no stinkin' Wendigo! They scare me!
LOL, chicken little.
I miss my grandma every day.
Very scary!
Don't look out your window on a cold windy night, G.
Thanks for the warning.
no worries, you're in LA...
Great story, you write really well.
Steven King referred to the Wendigo in a number of his stories.
The Wendigo is a very old Ojibwe story and it has a moral and that is to avoid greed. You would have to read the story to understand it’s moral.
Cool story. I've talked about my fascination with the Wendigo before. Someday I should try to bang out the Wendigo story I have running around my head. I think it would make a great movie.
Nothing is holding you back from writing a story about the Wendigo, go for it.
Yup, this is a chilling one for sure. Is it planned for the book?
Yes, it is.
I can't recall any scary stories from my childhood.
You can’t!! We had dozens of them and the Wendigo really exists.
the closest I ever got to that was in high school. getting obnoxious people trashed, driving across town, and ditching them in the biggest cemetery in the metro area in the middle of the night.
I still like to fuck over drunken fools...
there was also a trailer park a mile from my school that was one main loop with a bunch of loops off of it, and all the streets were the same name. we'd get people all loaded, tell them to follow us, and then get them lost in it when we drove away. good times.
I was really popular in the theater dept...
>poof<
And poof back at ya.
LOL, love you brother...
... almost as much a trumpster dipshits.
okay, I do remember one, but it was more sad than scary.