Wetiko

The winds whispered to him, whistling between the branches that surrounded from all angles. Entrapping, almost, a valley of never ending forest and in the middle of it all, one trail. There are no signs to guide him, no astounding landmarks. No streams or rivers, no hills or mountains. Nothing here but woods. Deep woods. Behind him follows closely a mule. The beast bears two satchels on both sides of its' body, and a tent with kindling upon its' rear.

It seems like days, but only hours pass as the forest grows darker. He knows of the creatures that dwell here. The rabid dogs. The large, hellish cats. The bears that were as large and ferocious as twelve men. They lurk past dusk, as the darkness blankets the woods and takes over. He knows it's time to make camp. His hide tent serves to protect from the elements and insects, but the fire, the fire is what separates beast from man. Light. As long as there is light, he is control. He feeds his fire kindling. Embers whisp from it and escape through the canopy of leaves above into the moonlight sky. His mule takes refuge near the fire as he slips into his tent.

As he slumbers, his mind is filled with maddening thoughts. He dreamt of the beast slipping into his tent and devouring him. Tearing his limbs from his body and feasting on his flesh and organs. Worst of all were nightmares of a person he knew. Once, long ago, there was a woman whomst he adored. He held her close to his heart, and only spoke highly of her. She was freed as a sickness spread from her lungs to her heart. Her death was slow, but he was by her side through every second of it. Every blood soaked cough rag, every wheezing fit, he held her hand and helped her. Now she was invading his dreams. And she was consuming his flesh along with the animals.

He heard whispers. Real whispers. They immediately brung him to his senses and caused him to awaken. He thrashed from his cot. His heart was racing, he could barely catch his breath. Whispers from outside his tent. He could hear them plain as day. It was a female, he couldn't understand what she was saying but he heard the mumbling. He didn't say a word. He stood up slowly, making sure to set his feet down softly upon the ground below. As he stood up she mumbled faster. He was fully on his feet, and it seemed as though she was panicking. He could almost understand her now, not fully, nut he heard one thing over and over again. "Help me."

She sounded familiar, he could almost place her voice but no. It couldn't be. There was a lost girl outside begging for help, he started for the opening to his tent but stopped. The girl was moving. He could hear her steps as she made her way to the front of the tent near the fire. She was still whispering and pleaing for help, but the light of the fire had caste a shadow for him to see. This was no woman. It stood as tall as himself plus half another man. Its' arms were as long as its' body from shoulder to toe. Its' legs were extended as well, longer than any humans should be, and it was standing right outside his tent, facing him.

It twitched as it stood there, whispering to him, begging for help. He knew of all that dwell here. All but this. He started stepping back, he wanted to make distance between him and the beast if it decided to lunge. Upon doing so, it turned and faced the fire. He heard his mule whimper as the beast closed in on it. He could barely make out the figures as the creature attacked his steed. He heard the cries and moans of his trusted companion, they ringed in his ears, but louder than it all was the creature. Its' demented song was an amalgitude of laughter and one phrase. "Make it stop."

He burst from his tent to try and stop the beast, but it was too late. Before him stood a monster. Tall, slender, with skin stretched beyond its' disturbingly long limbs. A rotten gray. Worst of all was the beasts' head. Long, hellish antlers protruded from its' cranium, it had the face of a whitetail, with its' skin wrapped so tightly around, it appeared to be a skull. Its' sunken, hollow eyes shot to him as it pulled the mule's throat out with its' fangs. It got to its' feet and grabbed the mule's leg. He was frozen in fear. This was nothing like he'd ever seen before, it was no ordinary creature of the woods. This was a monster from another plane of existence, and he was invading its' domain.

It picked up the mule and threw its' carcass on the fire, immediately extinguishing it. His light was gone, he was no longer in control. The monster continued to chuckle and whisper to him. Its' tone was so sweet and familiar. He didn't want to think it could be her. He saw her die. He buried her. He could hear it coming to him. He finally acted and went toward the few remaining embers that burnt beneath his mule. In one of the satchels was a pistol, he knew this was his only chance, the only way to fight back. He threw himself on the dead creature and pulled off the satchel. He tore it open and frantically searched in the pitch black for his gun. In his hast, he spilled the contents of the bag. They tumbled down his mule and onto the embers of the fire. The dim, faint embers finally died as his possessions killed them. He began to cry. He crawled down the beast in a futile attempt to retaliate, but he felt something. Something grabbing ahold of his ankle. His heart stopped. He didn't breathe.