Author’s note: This story will contain strong language and some disturbing descriptions, so it’s meant for older readers.



Also, there is a dramatic reading of this story being performed! The YouTube link is in the description box!

Prologue: Awakening

Minnesota was infamous for its harsh weathers. And the North Woods was no exception when it came to plummeting temperatures. Every winter would masked its woodlands and its inhabitants in frozen ferocity. And despite being early November, the autumn atmosphere was unseasonably bitter cold. The recent drizzle dusted the ground with ice and caused the evergreens to stiffen from hoarfrost.

The early wintered woodlands were always quiet after dusk. Most of its small mammal and aviary occupants that didn’t migrate were sleeping safely in their unseen nests and hidden burrows. This night, however, was more silent due to the weather being absent of wind. Not to mention the missing presence of nocturnal inhabitants. Everything was inert… Until the still silence was broken by a small, yet beaming, unusual light that accompanied crunching of frozen foliage on the forest floor beneath heavy boots.

Joe suppressed chattering his teeth; he wished not to bite his tongue a second time. The man chided at himself with low mumbles laced with curses for forgetting to put on his thermal-wear, which still remained draped over a chair, at home.

After blowing clouded breath under gloved hands, and pulling down his beanie light-cap to wholly cover his reddening ears, the hunter observed the ground for any signs of deer tracks. There wasn’t enough frost to make any good confirmation of tracking, but eventually, the enthusiastic sportsman swore his eyes could vaguely distinguish telltale signs of his quarry leaving several indented prints in some vague places. And by his best guess on the width of the tracks, this deer was certainly not a doe, but a buck. Ignoring the cold, Joe grinned at the prospects of bringing home a worthy trophy. He returned both hands to his rifle, and tentatively made his way in the North Woods.

The hunter knew jacklighting was not allowed, but he didn’t see the harm in it. He was well enough in the abundant woods and away from the local residences. But of course, he still kept to the nearest trail in hiking distance to where his truck was parked. Sure, he was keen on bagging a stag, but the man was certainly not foolish. He usually brought along his father or preferably, his best friend for safety and to simply shoot the shit to pass the time. However, his old man was out of town, and his friend had whined about it being too cold of a night for hunting, and said he was going to stay in tonight and game. Joe clicked his tongue to himself.

Mitch’s such a wuss… Son of a-!

His thoughts and walking had been interrupted when his cold, traitorous teeth bit his mouth’s sensitive muscle again. After pulling out and unwrapping a stick of gum for his teeth to focus on, Joe resumed his hike.

Nearly an hour went by, and the chewing, trudging man was starting to become very disgruntled. There was hardly any more signs of the unrecognizable tracks as if the deer were jumping through the dense timber to move around. And the cold air in the eerily quiet forest was starting to sink through the hunter’s coat and his nerves.

Joe spit out the last of his gum and was debating to return to his truck, until he finally found it. A short distance away; a glint of reflective light and some twitching in bushy shrubbery.

Fuck, yeah!

The hunter continued to keep to the trees, carefully creeping closer to the source of the possible game. His eyes scanned ahead; in hopes his cap’s bright LED would display some eye shine. It was times like this, that Joe was glad he never opted to use his truck’s headlights. Getting around on foot was much quieter, and even with the spotlight advantage to confuse the deer, they were always so easily startled. The man squinted his sights; no reflective retinas to be seen. But his heart skipped a beat from what he could tell were very large antlers. This stag had to be no less than a ten pointer.

This was it. The hunter was at close range; less than ten yards. Licking chapped lips, Joe knelt down and readied his rifle. His left hand firmly cradled under the barrel as his right finger lightly curled around the trigger; closing his left eye to aim. Joe planned on the bullet to course through the underbrush and hit the target’s chest. He never marked the head. The man would never flaw such a trophy to display in his den to show off to his favorite girl.

Suddenly, a set of very bright beams snapped sharply in his direction, causing the usually steadied sportsman to jolt a bit as the prized antlers underneath them, quickly dashed through the ground cover before his finger could pull the trigger in.

Oh, I can’t fuckin’ believe its eye shine startled me!

Joe groaned internally while opening both eyes and raising his head from the gun’s attached scope. He just couldn’t shoot completely blind. The hunter waited for any cue of his quarry.

No sounds. No movement. Nothing.

Bullshit. I was as quiet as a mouse! Something must’ve scared it off. He squinted his eyes to and fro. Where’d the hell did it run off to?

It was then, that he noticed the crunching of iced dead leaves behind him. Joe slowly stood up and instantly felt the hair on his back prickle his coated flannel shirt. A pang of fear constricted his heart at the second thought of the thing that alerted his buck was one of the woods’ many native predators that also enjoyed stalking in the dark…

The hunter gasped as he spun around; pointing the barrel towards the source of the sound…

“How’s it going, slow-poke?!”

Joe calmed himself while he eased his rifle, sighing in both relief and annoyance.

“Ugh! For fuck’s sake, Mitch! I almost shot your freckled ass!” Joe barked between clenched teeth. He jabbed a gloved thumb in the air behind him. “And your ruckus spooked the buck!”

Chuckling and standing about six meters away from the hunter was a short, red-headed man in winter cameo wear. His auburn scalp was also sporting a strong light-cap, since his wide frame was fully illuminated by it.

“I got’cha good, Joe!” Mitch called out to him with another robust chortle.

“Yeah, yeah… and I almost got you good for pulling that dumb jump-scare, ya prick!”



Joe paused his resentment and listened, and an involuntary shudder briefly traveled through him. But it wasn’t from the cold. Although the forest was relatively discreet in the evening, somehow, it seemed ominous, now. Whether it was the stupid prank that his loud-mouth friend just made him undergo, or these all-too-quiet, unnerving, dark woodlands was just irking him, the man simply wasn’t sure.

Nevertheless, seeing Mitch allowed Joe to forgo his anger and apprehensive outlooks, and his tightened eyebrows relaxed, returning his friend’s smile. “But… I’m glad you’ve changed your mind. Ha… I admit, I’m kinda feeling spooked myself, right now. So it’d be nice if we’ve got each other’s back. Y’know?”

The portly man held up his own rifle excitedly. “Yeah, let’s go SHOOTIN’, slow-POKE!”

Joe shushed him with a stifled snigger. “Okay! But not so loud, dude. If we hurry and we’re lucky, we might come across that big buck again. …And by the way, I ain’t a slow-poke. My trigger reflexes are way faster than your fat fingers.”

He waved in for his beaming buddy to follow suit, and when he heard the nearing footsteps, Joe laughed under his breath.

“Glad ya stopped being a chicken shit and can take a little cold. This beats video games by a long-shot. And wait till ya see the crown on this buck! Our pics are gonna put all the other guys’ framed selfies to shame.”

While his shadowing friend’s steps drew in, Joe sniffed a few times and winced, causing his nose and brow to crease. “Damn, dude! We ain’t supposed to use soap right before we come out here… Not skip a friggin’ weeks’ worth!”

Joe lowered a coat sleeve after rubbing his watery eyes. “Seriously, your stank’s gonna keep away the buck- What the fuck?!”

The man had glimpsed over his shoulder at the tall thing before it swiped. Joe screamed when he felt four icepicks made of dry ice puncture his back. He flung to the hard ground on his underside and dropped his rifle; the butt of the stock impacted from the toss and it fired. The thing had been struck and it emitted a snarling grunt, clutching its left chest from the random shot.

Joe could feel his deep ruptures seeping under his clothes. Still in sheer agony, the man used the faltered thing’s hit to try to get himself up and reclaim his gun. But to his indescribable horror, he found that his splayed legs were stationary. The swipe from the thing had not just marred the man’s back…

It had severely fractured his lower spine.

“No! Oh, GOD! No-no-no-no-no-no! Mitch?! HELP me! Where are you?! MIITTCH?!”

Joe hadn’t stopped screaming nor sobbing from the pure pain and full range of terror he had involuntary initiated himself in. And thanks to his splitting, chicken shit of a friend, Joe rapidly concluded that he was on his own. Desperately, he tried to drag himself. However, with no purchase, the helpless man could only partially sway in place. Yet, he tried over and over; resulting in raw fingers and staining the rigid grass from his fruitless efforts.

Loud and closer guttural growls were emanated… Hushing himself, Joe shakily put sore, abrasive hands to lift under his thumping chest and turned his head. With salty, blurry eyes, he could scarcely make out the thing… or whatever this huge, hunching beast was. It was standing upright; glaring hatefully while using one of its long and freshly red-tarnished talons to flick out the bullet without flinching. The extremely fluky shot had made the creature bleed, but barely. The shell had only impaled its tough hide and it was unfazed.

Whatever this terrifying, bizarre beast was, it wasn’t natural in the slightest.

Before Joe’s strained vocal cords could endure anymore screaming, the roaring creature lunged on all fours and arched over the man like a bear upon an elk. With much muffled snivels, Joe pressed his cheek to the earth while screwing his eyes shut; puckering pale lips tightly inward from the foul thing’s vapored, rancid breath as hot ichor dripped over his cold neck.

Beyond frightened, Joe had slowly slid an eyelid ajar for the creature had halted its assault. It was still snarling, but not attacking. Thoughts of escape jumbled into the injured man’s mind...



Maybe if I play possum it’ll think I’m dead and not a threat and it’ll leave and I can reach for my phone and if no signal I’ll shout for Mitch and he’ll know I’m-

But his hopes of rescue were wiped out when the beast gripped the top of the whimpering man’s head and pulled off the beanie cap with a harsh squeeze. Joe’s frazzled conscious guessed that the creature considered the light as some kind of weapon.

And he was right and regretted being so.

For when the LED light popped from the strength and sharpness of the large clawed hand, the sudden flash startled the beast and it shrieked angrily. Its hellish yowl flooded fright into the man’s core and denims.

“HELLP! SOMEBODY! SOM-!”

Joe’s pleading was cut. As was his neck. His tumbled head now canted beside his body with gapping eyes and mouth like an illusion of the man silently screaming.

Dead limbs juddered while the creature quickly tore through the clothes and reached the torso; gnashing from the outside in with ravenous relish. Bones broken, sinew snapped as masticated muscles and organs were pulled out by a long maw and swallowed down. Then, the ligaments and tendons were peeled off and eaten before piercing canines splintered the bones for an eager, elongated tongue to reach the marrow.

Once the shattered skeletal form was dry, the slavering creature excitedly chewed the decapitated head clean of all its soft hide; even the hairy scalp. The beast clawed the skinned skull into its strong jaws and cracked it as if just a walnut. The prized pink organ reveled itself with a wet, unceremoniously plop, in which the impatient creature snatched greedily.

Needless to say, the evening forest’s air had been sliced through by resonating tears, crunches, grinds and glugs.

Within that very same hour, nothing was barely left of Joe. His boots were splattered with stains so the beast had gnawed them until they were desiccated and destroyed. The bloodbath that once was under the man was lapped of any remnants, and crimson-covered claws had slashed the scoured apparel and cellphone into nothing short of tiny tattered debris. Excluding the rifle, anything remotely remaining of the hunter was a tossed away broken light-cap, and a cranium-less, battered, unrecognizable skull…

The cold darkness was coming and staying more often. This awoke the creature longer and allowed it to hunt in more of its terrain without being discovered. After almost a whole season, the creature had caught its prey with ease. The quarry was easily distracted to strike so its shiny stick would not hurt it. However, the beast did not know the shiny stick could still shoot hot stings on its own. Now, it knew to avoid them entirely.

The growl of the gangly creature resembled contented rumbling; it was very pleased with this catch. The other prey had made it sick and the creature could only eat them enough for it to sustain its own existence. But the instinctual mind of the creature and its sensitive olfactory told it that this meat was the precise prey.

The belly of the beast emitted a gratuitous grumble. Excluding its bone extensions, the correct catch was almost as tall as itself. And the prey was young; its flesh very tender. Though the painful emptiness was fully waning, the avaricious creature wanted to continue its consumption of everything, and sniffed and lapped anything it may have missed in its ravenous ravaging. The creature licked the red residue from its talons.

It still craved to eat. It wanted to eat. It wanted more.

As the drawn-out tongue of the beast snaked through the half-skull and the eyeless sockets for any traces of edible cartridge it may have neglected to find, the creature let out a harsh yelp while jolting from a sudden shot of piercing pain in its chest. It stood up, snarling and biting at whatever that had attacked it. It glanced at the nearby fallen shiny stick that its past prey had held. The stick had not moved. So what shot the hot sting at it?

Before the searching creature could remove the invisible hot sting from itself, another bolt of unknown source of pain. It yelped again and clutched its heaving bony chest while dilated dark-red pupils darted for the danger. Suddenly, the creature felt extremely hot. The hotness seared through its entire self, causing it to feel like it had eaten fire. Panting excessively, the creature fell on its back for the unknown scorching became extremely unbearable, and the sudden sheer amounts of pain had dived into its fed stomach.

The beast had found the threat… it was inside of it.

Wide-eyed and frantic, the hyperventilating creature wailed and flailed erratically. Its fiery temperature melting the frost underneath it; caking and surrounding its perspiring thin torso in mud and mist. The large, sensitive, sore ears of the creature heard numerous sounds of splitting and squeezing reverberating from itself, while it felt like it was being completely hauled everywhere in every direction without going anywhere. Then, the yowling of the creature fell into mournful moans as its hands clamped onto its descending abdomen.

The inner agony drew forward, causing the bellowing beast to clamber upright and compress its cranium. When its two extending bones moved through its throbbing talons, the pain ridden creature threw back its head and a long shrieking howl erupted from its raw throat.

Thus, the silence and stillness of the nightly forest was disrupted by the wailing beast and its unseen silhouette.

A silhouette that appeared to be expanding across the moonlight cast, cold ground.

***

“HELP! SOMEBODY HELP! SUMS-!”

The smartphone rung several times before it was seized off the small nightstand. The phone didn’t have time to vibrate itself off the bureau. Its owner was a light sleeper, but was a bit relieved to have her usual but always unsettling dream disturbed.

With a grunt, the awoken woman elbowed herself half up in bed, and swiped her thumb on the small lit screen.

“Yeah, Dad. What is it?” she breathed deeply. The young woman already knew who was on the other side of this call without the need for her hazy vision to read the identification.

“Are you alright, Hun? You sound troubled.”

“I’m sorta okay, Dad.” she replied, still feeling her rapid heart pulse and blinking away the sleep and dampness of her eyes to see her bedroom’s clock. “Bad dreams and getting calls quarter after four can get to a girl-”

“I’m sorry!” broke in the older voice from the phone receiver. “But you have to listen… again. Give me a second; put your phone’s volume up and on speaker, won’t you?”

The woman did as she was asked and by now, was sitting slumped up, while waiting for whatever she had to wait for. She had swung her heavy legs over the bed. The woman knew she wouldn’t fall back to sleep after this. Once she was up, she was up.

After a minute, she yawned, fingers moving through disorderly bobbed hair. Finally, the weary woman’s ears heard the other phone being picked up again.

“Sorry, Hun. I’m using our landline because it’s on my smartphone and Mary’s phone needs a new battery, so she had drained mine from wall texting with a book club pal, so it needed charging-”

“Dad..?” The woman’s tired vision glanced at the darkened window. “Can’t this wait till dawn?”

“No, Summer. It can’t.”

Within that near moment, the young woman’s heavy eyelids shot open, but not from the sterner tone. It was from the recording that was being played by the second smartphone, causing Summer to drop hers. The sound was distant, but it was clear and sharp as ice. It was utterly and horridly identifiable.

It was the screechy, hideous howl that always echoed alongside her nightmares.

When the fifteen second recording had finished, the comforting older voice returned.

“You okay, Hun? Did you hear it..? …Summer?”

The high alerted, wide awake woman was stiff straight; whitened knuckles gripping the edge of her bed to the point of her fingernails almost piercing the blanket.

“Yeah,” she answered curtly through quivered lips, finally lifting her arms and crossing them tightly over her chest; her hand indents on the thick comforter, slowly rose back into position.

“So… you remember it?”

Summer kept her sights on the floored phone. And after finally exhaling a held ragged breath through her nose, the woman lowered her head and her voice.

“Fuck, yeah...”