Chapter Text
15th October 1876
The snow had come thick and fast that winter, though it was unusual for early October. It fell from the sky like fluttering little pieces of paper floating down from the darkened overcast clouds, burying the landscape under a thick suffocating blanket of white, choking every piece of life there was: crops wilting and dying under its grip, cattle shivering in their fields- most wouldn’t survive the winter, but the ones that did would reap the rewards of fresh spring grass and offspring. Farmers sat in their homes, snowed in, wondering if their own family would survive the winter or succumb to Mother Nature. The bitter cold was the kind that made your skin tighten and turn blue if you stayed exposed for too long- most didn’t dare adventure out since the danger was too great and there would be no reward since there was little to no food. It had crept into every corner of the small wild western boomtown of Raven Brooks like an infection that couldn’t be stopped, a disease that had no cure to it- making itself at home in the quiet town, taking some of its residents with it- there had been no graveyard, the small one the town did own could not be dug into since the ground was frozen solid so the bodies had been wrapped in cloth scraps and placed in the snow outside in hopes it would keep preserved until the ground was thawed enough so that they could properly bury them.
Death had sunk its fangs into the land, sucking everything from it with vigour. Many of the crops had withered and died, leaving nothing but the browned empty husks, but as long as they had enough cured meats and pickled vegetables, then they would not succumb to starvation, letting it eat away at their bodies like rotting wood, bones becoming all they were held up by. If they survived, they would be able to feel the warm spring sun kiss their faces once more when this winter finally ceased and was chased away by the new year. The ground had cracked and split like the lips of those who spent too long out in the cold, the wind cruelly beating them back if they dared step outside. Small pockets of the town's community had gathered together to shelter their poorest members of the town, swapping food and blankets, lighting the cast iron fireplaces in the hall- hoping that the fire wouldn’t be snuffed out by the wind howling outside like an animal, pounding itself against the doors. Children clung to their mothers, looking up at them with big eyes. Golden flames danced in the coals and timber that were periodically poked to keep it alive as the last pieces of wood were used before they had to begin smashing furniture, casting great shadows on the walls. People swapped stories and food, trying to keep the spirit alive, as if they lost their spirit, then they were nothing. Some had gathered in the church and prayed to God, begging and crying out to him, asking him to not let them perish in the worst winter of the century. Hands clasped together, mumbling praises feverishly, saying how good they had been to him. Singing his praises.
The stores tried so hard to stay open, many being new and fresh businesses that had simply migrated with the people who had decided to call this small town home. However, like everything, it would eventually have to bend to the whim of Mother Nature, who seemed to mock their efforts by having her winds knock down trees that smashed through the roofs of houses, families helpless to fix them. Horses had been shut away in the stables- their most precious assets protected until they could either be sold or used on the frozen ground. Wishful thinking that they would be saved, but even with the warmth of the lanterns and straw, the cold still managed to push itself through the timber and stone, making them buck and cry out in fear, pulling against their reins, the leather growing taut as they flailed and kicked against the restraint.
At the very edge of town, Elizabeth Shrew sat hunched over her desk bitterly regretting that she didn’t pack more clothes before she moved here, hands shaking from the cold- fire crackling in the background. She wished she had gone into town and picked up what she could before the snow hit, some canned food and perhaps some more blankets, but Raven Brooks was so small she would have to go over to the next town for anything truly robust. Elizabeth pulled her woollen, grey shawl tighter around her shoulders as she continued to scribble in her thick leather notebook, leather cracked from how many times she had opened and closed it, her mind elsewhere. She had come across a fascinating creature on her latest patrol through the woods, wanting to explore what the Midwest had to offer, even though her home state was New York.
What she had found was a pure snow-white deer with wings like an angel and large antlers that stretched towards the heavens. It bounded around the forest and leapt onto the high-hanging branches like a squirrel, making noises more akin to a songbird. She had first seen it last spring; its antlers were adorned with pink flowers and leaves that grew out of it, like a living tree. Intrigued, she had followed it throughout the woods, writing notes, sketching its hoofprints and making notes on its diet and behaviour- flying up to the trees as soon as it sensed danger. After some research through the various books she owned, she discovered it was called a Snawfus, finding the name within the pages. Not much was known about it, so she would be able to post her findings in the nearest academic paper so that scholars in the field of cryptozoology could further dissect it. It was a beautiful, amazing creature and so docile; she had been able to approach it slowly, offering a small handful of grass, watching as it spread its wings, tensing as it scanned her for any predatory features, taking a threatening stance before realising she meant no harm and taking the offering. The soft fur of its muzzle grazed against her hand, it had clearly learned to fear humans- the forest that was surrounding Raven Brooks had slowly begun to disappear both human needs and for the unsavoury sport and job of monster hunting, which has seemingly been increasing in popularity recently, Humans were such selfish creatures- they thought they owned the word and so saw it as their right to plunder the world of all its resources and inhabitants.
The windows shook violently from the force of the wind, snapping her from her thoughts- they burst open, flapping against the inside of her home, making her jump from her seat and shut them, forcing all her body weight against it. Once closed, Elizabeth wandered over to the heart of her small corner of the world, the fireplace, observing her wood rations. She poked the fire, brushing brown strands from her face as the melting snow on her cheeks forced the hair to stick to her uncomfortably. She was limited to wood, and she needed more, but…there were things out there in the snow. Things that howled in the night when the moon was full, and the land was quiet; she had seen the footprints, twisted unnatural shapes not belonging to animal nor man but something malevolent in between. She glanced through her window; the snow had completely blocked her vision, only a sea of white which seemed to stretch to infinity- anything could be waiting outside for her, seeing her as an easy meal. She tried to reason with herself; on one hand, she needed wood so as not to freeze to death since a woman-sized icicle wouldn’t be the tastiest meal for a cryptid.
So reluctantly, she began to pull on her leather boots, lacing them up tightly so as to not risk snow overlapping into them. She wrapped her thick woollen coat around her shoulders, pulling on her gloves that had been a gift from her mother, hoping they would protect her. She slowly peeled open the door, planting her feet into the floor so as not to be sent flying back due to the force of the wind, before slipping out, trying to ignore the flurry of snow that made its way into her home. It seemed that lacing her boots extra tight was futile, as the snow was so deep it still spilt over and soaked her socks and the bottom of her long skirt as she trudged through the drifts. Elizabeth grabbed her axe and basket from beside the door and began her venture into the woods. The snow had begun to relent a little but was still fierce. It stung her face as she moved on, her pale cheeks becoming red and flushed. Soon she came across a felled tree, raising her axe high above her head and bringing it down sharply with a solid THUD, hacking away at it until a circle of wood fell onto the floor.
After an hour of chopping away, Elizabeth had gathered enough wood, her clothes soaked through and hair wild. She placed it all into her basket, stuffing it full, but not too full so she could still lift it and began hauling it back to her cabin. As she walked back, she had to stop, looking around; everything looked the same now that the snow had covered any trace of her existence. Her earlier footsteps were long buried, and all the paths laid out in front of her seemed identical. The snow was heavy, and it was already creeping up to her ankles, completely burying her feet, and she quickly lifted them to stop herself from becoming stuck. With a renewed sense of vigour from the panicked idea that she may be stuck, she decided to head right, convinced it was the direction she'd come from, determined to get home before she completely froze.
CRUNCH.
The sound of feet behind her echoed through the snow. Elizabeth turned slowly, swallowing hard, hand gripping the handle of her axe tightly. She expected it to be a tree that had been felled by the snow or a large branch falling down. What she saw shook her to her very core.
The first thing she noticed was the stench that slapped her in the face, making her gag- it was putrid and rotting, like decaying meat mixed with rotting corpses, the kind of smell flies gathered around in swarms, the smell of death that was so distinctive and yet so far away, like a faint memory. The thing before her had no flesh on its muzzle or face; instead, it was like wet paper, awkwardly bunched up, red with blood and seemed to move by itself. The ivory coloured bone was clean but still seemed to look dirty- empty eye sockets looking more like two pitch-black holes drilled into its face. The patchy fur and skin were stretched taut over the ribcage that threatened to tear the skin and spill blood onto the snow, spine bumpy and wavy- every ragged breath seemed like it would split the skin open and let the skeleton free. The hind legs were hooved, but the joints were bent the wrong way, and every step would be agony for a human. Two large, razor-sharp antlers were attached to the thing's head, looking like the hands of the devil. Its hands were clawed, long and thin- bony, twitching every so often. Elizabeth knew what it was; she had heard so many tales told by the travellers, her own mother had warned her. This creature was a symbol of disease and rot when mankind turned on each other to increase their own survival, their own selfishness leading to the consumption of another, feasting on their flesh in hopes of living. The devil spat it out - it was forced to live with its own agony and suffering, the humanity of it ripped away cruelly as it descended into its cannibalistic cave, eating its own soul until no humanity was left in it.
A Wendigo
It was fresh; there were still some distinctively human parts of it. The jet black fur was patchy across its body, with human flesh still clinging to some parts in awkward patches like grass breaking through soil. The thumb on the right hand was still malformed, too small next to the other fingers, but was still growing, bending all the way back briefly, snapping and popping. Its teeth were still unmistakably human, shiny and red with blood- the meal still stuck in its teeth. Elizabeth hoped it was an animal and not a massacred town. There was a mess of matted-down brown hair that was unlike the black fur spread across the rest of the creature's body at the very back of its head, but with the gusts of wind, it disbanded from the skull. When it spoke, it was raw and scratchy rasps of unformed words like a gurgling noise, like it was choking on water, Adam's apple bobbing. The human vocal cords were clearly still somewhat working, but were tender and at risk of snapping, like a drawn-taut piece of rope, fraying at the ends. Elizabeth stared at it in its soulless eyes, and it stared back, breathing raggedly as saliva dripped down from its jaw. Thick, cloudy grey globs hit the snow like rain. It moved forward slowly but with force, a grunt coming with the effort. Elizabeth stumbled back, a scream in her throat, but it refused to come, forcing her to create a gasping sound like a fish out of water.
She dropped her basket of logs and collapsed back into the snow, scrabbling back in terror. Hot adrenaline coursed through her veins; the need to flee was palpable, but she couldn’t move. It was like her feet were stuck to the ground. Most who saw wendigos never lived to tell the tale. She braced herself as it took another step forward, expecting her death would not be swift and merciful but drawn out, already hearing the crunching of her own bones. Elizabeth's breathing grew heavier, but she still couldn’t move. WHY COULD’T SHE MOVE?! Humans were built to flee danger, but those instincts seemed redundant at the moment.
Suddenly, the Wendigo lurched for her with its mouth outstretched, ready to kill- teeth already gnashing. Hunger had completely consumed its vision, not seeing the woman before her as one of its own, a discarded part of itself that it had abandoned when it no longer served them, doing anything it could to survive. It would eat her and still never be satisfied, forced to never be full, to always carry the burden of hunger and starvation. Elizabeth screamed so loud the trees shook as he covered her head and closed her eyes, praying to God, to the devil or anyone who could help her- she was a good woman, a scientific woman and she hoped the universe had enough mercy in its heart to make it so someone would find her after the storm and her body was preserved well enough to be identifiable so they could tell her mother, sending her home for a proper burial.
BANG
The Wendigo was thrown to the side roughly, a sharp yelp as it hit a nearby tree, bones cracking. A feral growl snapped through the air as whatever had slammed itself into the Wendigo began to brawl, sinking sharp teeth into tender flesh, blood squirting out and dripping into the snow. The Wendigo let out a gargled scream, the sound of a grown man mixed with a deer screaming like two instruments in the band that never interconnected, a horrible, gross noise like nails against a blackboard that made her cover her ears, curled up in the snow trying to make herself as small as possible. Elizabeth heard teeth meet flesh, a wet squelching sound soon following but she dared not look, the snow was soon dyed crimson like strawberries in the summertime the scent of iron in the air, the Wendigo screamed and clawed fearlessly against the jaws around its waist, managing to claw the side of the creature that had hold on it but couldn’t not free itself until the creature let it go.
The Wendigo’s retreat was swift and panicked, clearly forgetting about its prey, tail tucked between its legs, a garbled scream the last thing heard as it galloped off into the woods on all fours. Elizabeth peeked her eyes open, watching it run into the blizzard, disappearing as fast as it came. She swallowed thickly, adrenaline still pumping through her veins, trying to stand, but her legs had turned to jelly, and she fell back into the snow face-first. She slowly turned her attention back to the creature but it wasn’t there, for a brief moment she saw coarse fur and a black snout, a silhouette of something above its head, but it was too far into the snow to see anything clearly, she worried it would eat her too, simply fighting the Wendigo for its food, its own survival in its mind- of course it wouldn’t see her as a friend but either an enemy or a food source- how could she be so stupid? Allowing her humanity to get the best of her. It made no move to do so, though, only staring at her with a pair of black eyes- something human flickering through them as it watched her. She stared back, finally being able to stand, grabbing her axe and holding it to her chest like a shield. It bowed its head and turned to the storm before disappearing from where it came. Elizabeth took her basket and axe and ran as fast as she could.