Return of Wendigo

“You're bleeding. Are you all right?”

“I tripped and cut my knee.”

“There's a clearing about a hundred yards east. We'll make camp and see how you are in the morning.”

Tina stood and tried to be strong. “We should just walk out now. I'll be fine.” She took a step and felt her knee buckle and her brother's arms around her, easing her to the ground. “Perhaps a nice night of camping would be good,” she said.

The short walk through the rugged terrain was torture to Tina, but her independence let Jim aid her only as needed. When the small meadow peeked at the siblings through the trees Tina sighed. . .and collapsed.

She awoke to find herself zipped into her sleeping bag and covered with Jim's own, but still she shivered. “Jim?” she called and her brother stepped into the tent with an armful of wood. “What happened?” Tina asked.

“You passed out and I carried you,” Jim said. “You were delirious.”

“Delirious?”

“Something you called Wendigo. Then you slipped into a strange language. It gave me the creeps.” Jim stuck a thermometer into his sister's mouth. “A hundred and two,” he said and began setting twigs for a small fire. “I found this in your knee. A souvenir,” he placed an obsidian arrowhead in Tina's palm.


Tina started awake, her nightmare fading. Something about an ancient Native American snow spirit? The black arrowhead glinted in the light of the dying fire and she picked it up. “Yes,” she said. “A snowman does sound fun.”

Jim woke with the sun and realized he missed his sister's breathing. Her sleeping bag was empty. “Tina!” he called. No answer.

He parted the tent flap to discover falling snow and Tina in the clearing making a snowman. Jim was uneasy as he heard none of her customary laughing and singing, but chanting instead. It was the same arcane language she had used yesterday.

Tina set the body onto the base, and began forming the head. For some reason that thought chilled Jim's spine. He ran, calling her name.

Tina continued packing the nearly completed skull while Jim closed the distance, churning up clouds of white as his sister set a broken twig for the mouth, a large stone in the center as a nose.

Above the snowman the swirling flakes began taking form, solidifying. Tina placed the head onto the body and looked into the thickening snow above her head, as if listening. “I agree,” she said. “Beautiful brown ones.”

Jim walked closer and his eyes widened with horror. Tina had sliced her arm open, dipped the arrowhead in her own blood, and drew a strange symbol on her creation.

“Tina, what the hell are you doing?” Jim said. “Come back to the tent. I'll dress your arm and whip up some breakfast.”

Tina turned her empty gaze to her brother. “I'll go to camp as soon as I find something for his eyes,” she said. “He's almost finished, but not quite yet. He wants something special, too. Can I use your hat, Jimmy?”

“Sure, but then I want you to come back with me, okay?”

“Of course, but he must have a nice hat if I'm to be his queen.”

Jim was worried for his sister and best friend, but held out his hat.

Tina's hand lashed out and struck Jim on the neck, raking the arrowhead forward and nicking his carotid artery. Jim fell and his soul turned cold when he heard the voice emanating from his sister's creation.

“Quickly, girl, before he is devoid of life,” it said.

Jim saw his sister drop to her knees and hoped it had been a horrible accident, but hope turned to terror as the arrowhead pierced his left eyelid.

His twin began to saw, chanting the ancient ritual.



Word Count: 666