The Wendigo
I've had this on my computer for a while and I haven't been sure if I wanted to mettre en ligne it ou not but here it is. It doesn't have anything to do with Sam and Dean but it's about a Wendigo which is a Supernatural creature so I'm uploading it! ;)
Jack Ryan swung the door to the cabine open. Snow whirled in together with the Canadian winter wind. Four pair of eyes turned to him. The fifth pair didn't even open. He shook the snow off his veste and hung it on the manteau hanger. He pulled off his gloves made of peau de daim and took off his fourrure hat. He didn't have time to take off his booths. He went straight over to the cercle of people that were sitting in front of the fireplace. In the middle there was the man whose eyes hadn't reacted to his presence in the little room. That was Jack Ryan's oldest son who was slowly starving to death. Jack had been out in the woods hunting for hours but he still came accueil empty handed. His whole family's survival depended on him to bring back nourriture and he failed them. Everyone in the family had sunken cheeks and they were so skinny that toi could count every one of their ribs. They looked like walking skeletons. It was a wonder that everyone had lasted this long. Jack sank in to a sitting position suivant to his wife, Martha. Her eyes were red from crying and when he looked around the cercle he could see that everyone had cried. Jonah, who always stepped up and was the strong one, had tears springing from his eyes. Isabella, who always helped and had a patience which could not be surpassed par anyone, had snot running from her nose but she didn't even acknowledge it. Little Maggie was wailing away, crying and hitting around her as always. Jack looked down on his son Joseph and saw that he wasn't moving. Besides from Maggie's cries there was nothing but silence. No heavy breathing, no wheezing sound of Joseph breathing. It took Jack a moment to realize what that meant, why everything was so quiet and why everyone was crying. When he finally put the pieces together, he stood up, took his manteau and slammed the door behind him. He started up the snowy path into the pitch black forest.
This was his fault, everything that was happening here. His stomach growled in response.
“Shut up”, he told it angrily. His stomach was having convulsions almost frequently nowadays. He was so hungry that he could eat anything. But he wasn't out here to dwell in self pity! He'd gone out to think of a way to save his family from starvation. He kept walking as his stomach rumbled. He was so deeply absorbed in thought that he didn't notice the two fighting loups until they barked at him, warning him to stay back. He stopped dead in his tracks and he didn't move. The loups started to snap and claw at each other again. They circled each other as Jack stood there, too La Reine des Neiges to even run ou do anything. Soon the fight turned deadly as the stronger loup bit into the other one's throat.
Jack had been looking for an answer and there it was! So obvious. This was how he was going to save his family from starving to death. He ran away from the scene as quick as possible. He wasn't struck par the insanity of his actions, he was just thinking about the solution to his problems. As if agreeing to his plan, his stomach growled again, this time louder than before.
Jack Ryan smiled to himself. “Yes, tonight we'll have a feast. We don't have to go hungry anymore.”
The lights inside the cabine were all blown out when he made it back. He thanked his lucky étoile, star that his family lived in the middle of nowhere with no neighbours ou else this wouldn’t have worked out. Jack went straight to his shed where he kept all of his guns. The light flickered when he turned the power switch and it cast it rayon, ray of light in the little room. It lit up the mur where he kept all of his hunting things. The knives glimmered weakly in the light from the lamp. The skin of a deer was hanging on his mur as a trophy from his first hunt with his father so many years before. He went over to it and stoked the hairs. It felt soft and nice against his hand. He closed his eyes and smelled the skin and took in all of the scents that hit him, the old and musty smell from the skin itself. But Jack also smelled the forest, the wet ground and the adrenaline from a hunt. He could almost hear the birds chant in the trees, the little souris which runs quickly across the lit off leaves on the ground and the deer chewing herbe on the other side of the river. He stopped stroking the deer skin and opened his eyes again. He pushed all off his feelings and thoughts away and went over to take his rifle. On the way out of the shed he turned the little light off and the darkness swallowed the room.
He stepped outside and breathed in the cold winter night air. The fusil, carabine was flung over his shoulder where it had settled in between his shoulder blades. He walked over to the cabine and each footstep was accompanied par the crunch of snow. Jack stopped outside the cabine door. There was no turning back now and no changing his mind later. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He slowly turned the knob and pushed the door open. It didn’t make a sound. If toi did not take into account what had happened earlier, this was a quite lucky jour for Jack Ryan. He could hear the uneven breathing from four set of lungs. He didn’t want to see their faces when he shot his family in their sleep, so he as he stood in the doorway he raised his gun. He didn’t let himself think; he acted and squeezed the trigger.
The sun rose and cast light over a little cabine in the woods. The outside of the cabine was perfect, like a facade. If toi opened the door toi wouldn’t believe it was the same cabin. The inside of the cabine looked like it had been taken directly from a horror movie. Blood was splattered all over the place. The walls, the ceiling and the furniture were all painted red. There were bodies scattered all over the place. The bodies were violated and half chewed, as if animaux had been at them but just left them because they found something better to eat. There was no movement in the cabine except for the man who was crouching over one of the bodies. From behind it looked as if he was crying but the sound was wrong. Instead of sobs, toi heard ripping, shredding and chewing. The body in front of the man was bleeding from a gash in its stomach. The blood was flowing from the wound and the man was hunching over it, ripping out the intestines and then eating them. It was grotesque scene. Jack Ryan ate because of the sheer joy of eating. He’d stopped being hungry ages ago, now he just ate for the sheer pleasure of being full. There were only two things that mattered to Jack right now, and they were; chew and swallow. Sometimes he even forgot to chew, he just pressed it down. The most important thing was to get the nourriture into his stomach. That’s when he threw up. Blood, pieces of intestines (which were not his own) and some other fluid came rushing out of his too full stomach. He heaved and gagged for a long time afterwards. When it was finished and he was sure that he wasn’t going to puke again, he straightened himself and looked down at the body in front of him. He saw a face but he couldn’t place it, he’d forgotten the name that came with that face. But he didn’t care. This body was nothing but meat to him. Jack got to his feet and walked over to the lit where one of the bodies was lying. He took it up and heaved it over his shoulder. He did the same thing to the other two bodies. He left the body he’d just eaten from lying in the middle of the room. He knew there was supposed to be another body here too but he guessed that they had already exposed off it. Jack pushed the door open and stepped out into a glistering winter-land. He turned his head to his right. Then he started to walk into the forest. He knew that he wasn’t human anymore, he’d turned into a monster the minute the plan had formed itself in his mind, and he didn’t care. All that mattered now was survival. Jack had a new plan. He was going to find a cave, stash the bodies there and then he was going to sleep. And whenever he’d wake up he would eat one of the bodies and go back to sleep. He wasn’t worried about what would happen when he ran out of bodies, people camped in the woods all the time; he knew how to get more...
I've had this on my computer for a while and I haven't been sure if I wanted to mettre en ligne it ou not but here it is. It doesn't have anything to do with Sam and Dean but it's about a Wendigo which is a Supernatural creature so I'm uploading it! ;)
Jack Ryan swung the door to the cabine open. Snow whirled in together with the Canadian winter wind. Four pair of eyes turned to him. The fifth pair didn't even open. He shook the snow off his veste and hung it on the manteau hanger. He pulled off his gloves made of peau de daim and took off his fourrure hat. He didn't have time to take off his booths. He went straight over to the cercle of people that were sitting in front of the fireplace. In the middle there was the man whose eyes hadn't reacted to his presence in the little room. That was Jack Ryan's oldest son who was slowly starving to death. Jack had been out in the woods hunting for hours but he still came accueil empty handed. His whole family's survival depended on him to bring back nourriture and he failed them. Everyone in the family had sunken cheeks and they were so skinny that toi could count every one of their ribs. They looked like walking skeletons. It was a wonder that everyone had lasted this long. Jack sank in to a sitting position suivant to his wife, Martha. Her eyes were red from crying and when he looked around the cercle he could see that everyone had cried. Jonah, who always stepped up and was the strong one, had tears springing from his eyes. Isabella, who always helped and had a patience which could not be surpassed par anyone, had snot running from her nose but she didn't even acknowledge it. Little Maggie was wailing away, crying and hitting around her as always. Jack looked down on his son Joseph and saw that he wasn't moving. Besides from Maggie's cries there was nothing but silence. No heavy breathing, no wheezing sound of Joseph breathing. It took Jack a moment to realize what that meant, why everything was so quiet and why everyone was crying. When he finally put the pieces together, he stood up, took his manteau and slammed the door behind him. He started up the snowy path into the pitch black forest.
This was his fault, everything that was happening here. His stomach growled in response.
“Shut up”, he told it angrily. His stomach was having convulsions almost frequently nowadays. He was so hungry that he could eat anything. But he wasn't out here to dwell in self pity! He'd gone out to think of a way to save his family from starvation. He kept walking as his stomach rumbled. He was so deeply absorbed in thought that he didn't notice the two fighting loups until they barked at him, warning him to stay back. He stopped dead in his tracks and he didn't move. The loups started to snap and claw at each other again. They circled each other as Jack stood there, too La Reine des Neiges to even run ou do anything. Soon the fight turned deadly as the stronger loup bit into the other one's throat.
Jack had been looking for an answer and there it was! So obvious. This was how he was going to save his family from starving to death. He ran away from the scene as quick as possible. He wasn't struck par the insanity of his actions, he was just thinking about the solution to his problems. As if agreeing to his plan, his stomach growled again, this time louder than before.
Jack Ryan smiled to himself. “Yes, tonight we'll have a feast. We don't have to go hungry anymore.”
The lights inside the cabine were all blown out when he made it back. He thanked his lucky étoile, star that his family lived in the middle of nowhere with no neighbours ou else this wouldn’t have worked out. Jack went straight to his shed where he kept all of his guns. The light flickered when he turned the power switch and it cast it rayon, ray of light in the little room. It lit up the mur where he kept all of his hunting things. The knives glimmered weakly in the light from the lamp. The skin of a deer was hanging on his mur as a trophy from his first hunt with his father so many years before. He went over to it and stoked the hairs. It felt soft and nice against his hand. He closed his eyes and smelled the skin and took in all of the scents that hit him, the old and musty smell from the skin itself. But Jack also smelled the forest, the wet ground and the adrenaline from a hunt. He could almost hear the birds chant in the trees, the little souris which runs quickly across the lit off leaves on the ground and the deer chewing herbe on the other side of the river. He stopped stroking the deer skin and opened his eyes again. He pushed all off his feelings and thoughts away and went over to take his rifle. On the way out of the shed he turned the little light off and the darkness swallowed the room.
He stepped outside and breathed in the cold winter night air. The fusil, carabine was flung over his shoulder where it had settled in between his shoulder blades. He walked over to the cabine and each footstep was accompanied par the crunch of snow. Jack stopped outside the cabine door. There was no turning back now and no changing his mind later. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He slowly turned the knob and pushed the door open. It didn’t make a sound. If toi did not take into account what had happened earlier, this was a quite lucky jour for Jack Ryan. He could hear the uneven breathing from four set of lungs. He didn’t want to see their faces when he shot his family in their sleep, so he as he stood in the doorway he raised his gun. He didn’t let himself think; he acted and squeezed the trigger.
The sun rose and cast light over a little cabine in the woods. The outside of the cabine was perfect, like a facade. If toi opened the door toi wouldn’t believe it was the same cabin. The inside of the cabine looked like it had been taken directly from a horror movie. Blood was splattered all over the place. The walls, the ceiling and the furniture were all painted red. There were bodies scattered all over the place. The bodies were violated and half chewed, as if animaux had been at them but just left them because they found something better to eat. There was no movement in the cabine except for the man who was crouching over one of the bodies. From behind it looked as if he was crying but the sound was wrong. Instead of sobs, toi heard ripping, shredding and chewing. The body in front of the man was bleeding from a gash in its stomach. The blood was flowing from the wound and the man was hunching over it, ripping out the intestines and then eating them. It was grotesque scene. Jack Ryan ate because of the sheer joy of eating. He’d stopped being hungry ages ago, now he just ate for the sheer pleasure of being full. There were only two things that mattered to Jack right now, and they were; chew and swallow. Sometimes he even forgot to chew, he just pressed it down. The most important thing was to get the nourriture into his stomach. That’s when he threw up. Blood, pieces of intestines (which were not his own) and some other fluid came rushing out of his too full stomach. He heaved and gagged for a long time afterwards. When it was finished and he was sure that he wasn’t going to puke again, he straightened himself and looked down at the body in front of him. He saw a face but he couldn’t place it, he’d forgotten the name that came with that face. But he didn’t care. This body was nothing but meat to him. Jack got to his feet and walked over to the lit where one of the bodies was lying. He took it up and heaved it over his shoulder. He did the same thing to the other two bodies. He left the body he’d just eaten from lying in the middle of the room. He knew there was supposed to be another body here too but he guessed that they had already exposed off it. Jack pushed the door open and stepped out into a glistering winter-land. He turned his head to his right. Then he started to walk into the forest. He knew that he wasn’t human anymore, he’d turned into a monster the minute the plan had formed itself in his mind, and he didn’t care. All that mattered now was survival. Jack had a new plan. He was going to find a cave, stash the bodies there and then he was going to sleep. And whenever he’d wake up he would eat one of the bodies and go back to sleep. He wasn’t worried about what would happen when he ran out of bodies, people camped in the woods all the time; he knew how to get more...
