Red & White: A Rite of Passage || Part II

[Mael]

This was a role play/story that I completed a while back, and I figured I could post it here, to get my writing out there.
I'm fairly proud of this part as well as the next part, and I'll be sure to post the links to each in the respective threads.
This story is based around a character I had created, and serves as their back story, in two distinct parts.

Warning: this is a semi-horrific plot, with elements like cannibalism and possibly scary imagery present. It is not my intention to cause anyone discomfort and/or possible triggers.

I hope you enjoy the story as much as I did, writing it.
-Mael.

She was falling.

She didn’t know how it had happened, but she knew that one moment, she had been stable and on the ground. The next – darkness and a surprising feeling of being completely weightless. Panic-stricken, she realized that her guardian was not there with her. Her guardian wasn’t there to save her in this moment of blackness. The sensation was strangely freeing, but the panic she was feeling was strongly outweighing any positive emotions that could physically pass over her. She was constantly bracing herself, awaiting when she was going to be hitting the ground… or whatever she was going to be hitting. Attempting to turn her neck, she realized that she couldn’t; there was no way she could turn to see behind her. She continued to simply fall backwards, her gaze only able to be trained upward as the element of surprise seemed to be her only fate in this fall. A wave of warmth encompassed her suddenly and swiftly; she felt at peace, rather than anticipating death… or whatever the end of this dream would bring her. Just blackness and warmth, a peaceful state she’d never encountered before as she free-fell into more of the abyss. No end in sight, no possibility of seeing it unless it came to face her directly… merely darkness and a sense of longing for it to stop –

Then, it stopped.

The lanky frame shot up, breathing heavily as she shook her head. Her hair was long, trailing behind her against the pillow while some remained trapped beneath her arms. A sheen of sweat rested along her brow, tainting her skin to make patterns with her freckles. Blue eyes filled with disturbed panic, she slowly took in her surroundings, her hands braced against the bed to make sure she wasn’t truly falling. No, she was still in the room of the cabin she’d claimed as a bedroom when the cupboard in bathroom had become too small for her. Dust coated areas of the floor she never traveled, cobwebs lined the corners near the ceiling, and snow was beginning to drift through the partially-torn screen of the single window on the opposite side of the room. Long legs lifted her from her mattress on an old bed frame as her bare feet hardly made a sound against the wooden floor. She stood shakily, much taller than she used to be, and ran dirty digits over her face a few times to try and bring herself back to a calmer state of reality. Shifting slightly on her feet, she turned her head – happy to realize she could still do such a thing – to see her guardian standing in the doorway. A tall, brooding figure that was filling the entire framework of the door, with piercingly milky eyes locked onto Hollen. A simple shrug passed through the smaller female before giving the haunting creature a simple nod. That was all it took to reassure the living nightmare, allowing Hollen to leave the room and have access to the rest of the dingy cabin.

The creature and Hollen seemed to live in a comfortable, companionable silence. She didn’t speak a word to the creature as she walked down the halls she knew so well, passing the kitchen that no longer held the partially consumed corpse of her father – merely a few stranded bones here and there, a simple reminder. She also passed the living room, where her dusty armchair sat in front of an emptied fireplace, a destroyed radio laying in a broken heap in the corner. She walked right into a makeshift dining room, where a small wooden table occupied the middle of the area, and a few chairs were randomly placed around it or near the walls. Blue eyes casting to the table, a frown graced cracked lips as her left hand moved to scratch nervously at a scab near her right elbow. The nervous habit of chewing off her own flesh, suckling her own blood, had never left. What was triggering her right now was the fact that there was no meal upon the table… no fresh blood against the stained wood, not even a scrap of flesh or the smell of something fresh. Feeling the presence of the Wendigo behind her, she shifted and walked forward, moving to stand on the opposing side of the room, facing the creature as it slowly walked up to the table. A guttural sound, one that set Hollen on edge, left its thick throat while the soulless milky eyes never seemed to leave the fiery redhead.

The wind rushed through the large, partially shattered bay window, to send in a soft dusting of snow and to ruffle the female’s hair. The patchy black fur upon the Wendigo also shifted with the wind, and both of the animal-like creatures seemed to sniff the air in unison. The cold was bringing fewer opportunities for food – Hollen understood that – but this was the third time they were lacking in a meal in two weeks. Had it really become that scarce? Lowering her gaze, she let her broken and uneven fingernails trace the indentations along the surface of the table. Her fingertips lingered over the deeper ones, where the creature had become too eager to wait, and over the smoother portions where the blood had pooled the deepest. A strong sensation washed over her, one that made her desire to lean down and lick the wooden surface… anything to get some kind of taste of what they were missing. She shook her head solidly, once. Another guttural sound drew her attention back up to the creature, who was watching her steadily as ever. She waited patiently to see what the creature was trying to convey, having learned that as the only form of communication she had with her mother-like figure.

A long, canine-esque frontal limb lifted slowly, as if heavy, and pointed towards the front door. The wind, as if on cue, whipped it open and fluttered it gently. Hollen stood there for a questioning moment before drifting towards the open door, seeing snow beginning to fall in and trail down the hallway with the breeze. Stepping into the light, the scrawny female shielded her gaze with a hand, blocking the sunlight as she stood there like a silhouette in the doorway. Blue hues gazed around before her keen nose picked up a familiar, metallic scent. Warm. Fresh. It was almost as if the creature was directly communicating with her mind, standing behind her in the hall, assessing her. She could feel the gaze against her back, burrowing through her, as if trying to will her to understand. Hollen’s gaze instantly shot down to the ground…

Blood and snow.

Red and white.

Instantly, she began to step forward, seeing a dragging crease in the snow from where a figure had limped through it. The blood followed the path – a clear trail to where the meal had gone. Glancing over her lean shoulder, the human female peered back at the haunting, partially hidden figure standing behind her. A large nod that brought its antlers scraping against the ceiling was all she was given. A subtle hint; a clue of what to do. Hollen shifted on her feet, taking a first, tentative step into the snow and beginning, what she believed was going to be, her first test into some kind of ‘rite-of-passage’ with the Wendigo.

She simply didn’t know what the end result would be.

[Mael]

Snow was fun. Cold, but fun.

The young child frolicked in the white powder, squeals and giggles of pure joy leaving chapped lips as she rolled about in the chilling white. Her purple coat and multi-colored hat was sprinkled with white as the flakes descended from the grey skies above her. She rolled onto her back, looking up at the changing atmosphere, letting the small, frozen droplets land upon her torso and face. A smile touched her, cracking her lips even further and bringing about a little bit of blood, pearling from one of the deeper splits. Eagerly, and almost subconsciously, her little pink tongue slipped out and licked the metallic fluid away. Then, her teeth were tugging the lip inside her warm mouth as she suckled, drawing out more blood and furthering the crack in her fragile skin.

Her red hair had flared out in the snow beneath her hat, trailing about her shoulders as she waved her arms and legs back and forth in the snow. She was leaving an imprint – what had her parents called it? A snow angel. She wriggled her arms and legs, feeling a dry laugh bubbling from her to form into a frosty cloud of visible air above her mouth. Her shoulders moved her hair, coating the rich color with the white of the snow…

Red and white.

She had never forgotten how biting the snow could feel against bare skin. But the feeling was a sharp reminder that was also dull in her mind. She knew what her top priority was – vaguely – as she trailed through the snow and followed the tracks. The blood stood out against the familiar terrain; it was a red beacon, a signal and sign. She picked up the pace, knowing that it wouldn’t be long before the Wendigo was following her, tracking her while she was tracking, what she was assuming was, their prey. If Hollen wanted to eat at all, she was going to have to hunt like she’d never hunt before. The prey was injured, a pleasant surprise from the nightmarish creature, and not something to be taken for granted. The back of her mind seemed to realize that this was going to possibly cause her more physical harm than anything else… but she was starving. The wind whipped her loose shirt around her emaciated form as she trekked through the trees, staying as silent as she could, and avoiding anything that could give her away.

The wind began to blow and Hollen changed her method of travel. She didn’t want to be downwind of the Wendigo, lest she be tracked more easily. She shifted and followed the tracks more indirectly; she was able to see the blood-stained snow from where she was currently located. The path seemed to travel on forever… how had an injured person or animal traveled so far, while bleeding so much?... But just as her thoughts had ended, the trail suddenly stopped. She halted in her path, gazing around, breathing heavily. Visible air leaving her lips in a rapid way, she felt the cold threatening to edge its way into her senses. The run had proven to keep her quite warm… but remaining stagnant was not an option.

She began to look around, her keen blue eyes managing to spot what could be a potentially good hiding place. She slunk around the corner, managing to see an extended – definitely broken – leg sticking out and giving the person away. A dangerous smile played at the corner of the scrawny female’s lips as she slipped her hand into the waist of her pants, slipping out a sharply pointed blade of sorts. It was stone, and it was obviously hand-carved quite skillfully. She’d had a lot of time to practice, after all. She approached with a steadily growing confidence, peering down at the human who was still unaware of her presence at this moment. He was tall in stature, she could tell even from his sitting and slumped form, and exhausted. Built and overall in a healthy state, excluding his snapped limb… he was exactly the kind of meal the Wendigo would pick. His eyes were closed – Hollen wondered, briefly, what color his eyes were. She stepped closer to her victim, her stone blade clutched in her hand – which was beginning to shake and turn blue with the cold. As she stepped closer, suddenly, his eyes were open.

They were green.

She launched herself forward, her hands going for the throat, trying to maneuver her entire body to avoid his hands – only to fail. His grasped at her body, clutching and trying to hold her at bay, but her arms were almost just as long as his, and one was carrying a blade. “Why are you doing this?! You’re just a child!” he managed to say, his voice a pitch higher than usual because of his sudden panic. He’d encountered a monster… and now this scrawny, wild girl, both of whom seemed intent on killing him. Hollen didn’t answer his cries, trying desperately to escape his grasp. She’d done well so far… but now she’d made a crucial error. She’d allowed him to grab hold of her – not just her clothes, but her flesh and bone. This was dangerous; all warnings in her mind were going off, alerting her and bringing panic into her throat, choking her. Something crunched behind her, and before she had time to react, she was begin thrown from the human male.

She landed ten feet away, with a sharp thud into the snow. She was panting, her frame desperate for air as she tried to calm herself. She was too nervous, too shaken up for such an easy hunt. The cries from her lost prey were soon silenced with a sickening crack. The silence fell over the small area; no animals were around to make a sound, not when the monster was roaming. Hollen’s heartbeat was all she could hear as her tear-filled eyes gazed straight up at the sky. She’d failed.

Snow was beginning to fall, silent and peaceful above her.

The cold was turning her skin blue, while her hair was splayed in a halo about her, tainting the snow.

Red and white.

[Mael]

The frail human being trudged through the snow, following her own imprints, which were now being paired with the odd steps of the monster who was leading her. The man’s body was resting between its jaw, limbs dragging uselessly, as if the earth was calling for the body to be returned to the soil for a proper burial. However, the atmosphere for such a thing was all wrong – it was as if the earth knew that there was an oddity in its midst. This creature did not belong, just as this body would not belong, and process in which it would occur would not be natural. At least, not natural to those who didn’t cannibalize as well. The creature was silent as ever, and this time, the only noise Hollen was providing were heavy breaths into the air. She was exhausted, physically and mentally, from the excursion.

And to fail… how it felt to be a failure.

Her eyes flicked forward, meeting the dead green eyes of the man swinging slightly from the maw of the beast. She didn’t feel pity; she didn’t feel sympathy for this human. She supposed that made her odd, in her own way, but she never knew why anyone felt pity. Was it natural, to feel bad for the state of one being, while you’re trying to look out for your own? Hollen certainly didn’t think so. So blue eyes stared into deadened green – watching as they remained dull and lifeless. Soon, the evergreen hue was joined with red around the edges; blood trailing from the victim’s nose was beginning to drip downward, towards his eyes, into his thick hair to disappear. Mesmerized, the young female found it difficult to take her eyes off of the form of the man.

How delicious he must taste.

A moon cycle had passed, she realized, sitting in her windowsill to gaze upon the swollen whiteness that seemed to scare away the darkness. Her thin frame was warmer, adorned by a man’s coat and trousers that she’d rolled up past her bony ankles, and less emaciated from her last meal. She may have failed the Wendigo out in the field, in the cold white and warm red, but back at the cabin she had proven herself worthy. The beast was not giving its meal up without a fight, and fight Hollen had. She’d not stood much of a chance against the ten foot tall beast, with sharp black claws and limbs that could reach her across the room… but somehow, she’d fought valiantly enough to earn some respect and a meaty leg. The scratches along her cheek and throat tinged with remembrance – of course, she’d not left the battle without a few marks. Her ribcage was still sporting a solid green bruise and hurt when she twisted too much, but she was content with herself. Proud, even.

The monster was, as well. She could tell.

Stretching her arms up, she swung her legs and twisted her frame, turning from facing the outdoors back to the indoors. Standing there, waiting ever-patiently was the Wendigo. Milky eyes haunting her very presence, seeing more than Hollen ever could have logically assumed, they watched as the lanky female adjusted and slipped from the sill. In the mouth of the creature was the last remaining limb of their meal – dripping from the melting frost that had maintained some kind of freshness. Stomach rumbling, Hollen approached and took the limb with little resistance, moving with it to sit upon the mattress and eat her dinner. Sharpened teeth tore at the ample, softening flesh before sliding down her throat. She licked at blood-soaked bone, suckled on tender muscle, and chewed on tougher tendons. The beast watched all the while.

It was unnerving, really. Hollen was rarely watched directly by the Wendigo, unless she was sleeping. And for a brief moment then, her teeth frozen against the finger she was currently attempting to strip, she wondered if she was actually asleep. It was a terrifying idea, that she was believing herself awake, when she was truly sleeping. Was she really that mentally unstable? It was a curious thought; it was an interesting thought. The hunger that remained, however, was incredibly real – so she resumed her meal, returning to her thoughts while her mouth worked quickly and made a delightful meal of the limb she’d been granted. Blue eyes peering forward, she watched as the massive thing moved from the doorway into the room itself, taking a seat across from her, leaving a copious amount of distance between them. It was waiting, for something… trying to communicate in a form that it never had before… Hollen couldn’t understand. She merely licked the bones clean after suckling whatever marrow remained in their passages, before dropping them onto the floor beside her bed. Blue eyes never left the creature as she shifted, curling onto her side and fetching the blanket behind her, covering her slim frame from the chill that drifted in from the broken window.

And still, the monster waited.

It waited until the blue sky eyes finally shut and the connection was, once again, formed.

Then, it made its move.

[Mael]

Grey.

Everything was grey, at first. She was standing in a mist of sorts, surrounded by shapes that were drifting in and out of focus. It was as if they were only partially present, toying with the edges of her subconscious - different figures, shapes, shadows. They never came into full focus, however. Never once was she able to truly make out what the shapes were. She was merely moving slowly through a misty atmosphere, occasionally glancing towards a shadow as it drew near, only to fall away once more. After a moment, though, she realized that she wasn’t moving at all. Standing still, everything was moving around her. She vaguely can tell she’s breathing heavily; why? The hair prickles at the back of her neck and she is aware of a familiar feeling of someone standing behind her, watching her. She moves to turn, only to discover that she is physically incapable of moving – instead, the atmosphere and landscape around her twists and turns to put her curiosity into focus.

One figure, of them all, was perfectly clear as it stood before her now. The Wendigo. Tall and imposing, scarier than she could ever recall, the nightmarish beast was almost bright against the dim surroundings. Hollen had been so used to its presence that she had never really taken in just how huge this monster was. If she could guess, she would take a stab at around ten feet tall, with frontal limbs long enough to drag the ground while hunched back on stag-like hind legs. The wolf-like front appendages were adorned with sharp, black claws, which only proceeded to add to the length of their entirety. The emaciated body of the beast was riddled with patched black fur of different textures in different locations. The neck of the monster was long, leading up into a wolf head with long, sharpened teeth that proceeded to often protrude over the beast’s bottom lip. A wet black nose was cracked with a scar and milky white eyes peered down at her as if to haunt her very soul. The ears were torn between two shapes it seemed, and positioned behind them were a pair of tall antlers that added at least a foot and a half of height to the entire figure. Overall, it was imposing. It should have been terrifying…

But Hollen wasn’t scared.

She couldn’t determine how she felt calm around such a creature, but she did. Maybe it could have been associated with all of the time she’d already spent with it, in the real world and in her subconscious. Maybe it was because Hollen had grown up with a lack of true fear in her life, given her twisted sense of morality and lack of social skills. Maybe it was a combination of those two things, or the creature controlling the dream-world in which they currently resided. She wasn’t sure, but she knew that it didn’t matter, ultimately. Blue eyes met milky white and Hollen wondered, for a moment, why the creature was so close this time. Typically, it remained in the background, watching and observing, only occasionally interfering… but right now, it was simply standing before her, breathing heavily out of a partially open maw, seemingly struggling with the simple motion. Suddenly, enough to almost startle the smaller woman, the creature began to move towards her. As it drew closer, Hollen’s eyes began to take in little details about the beast, little things she’d never noticed before.

Blood around the gum line. Matted fur. A chipped claw. A partially broken antler. A weakness that it never seemed to possess before.

It towered over her soon enough, standing with its head over her, gazing down straight. Hollen lifted her gaze, peering back up at the creature, feeling a tugging within her that forced her head up. Standing still, she let the Wendigo shift forward even further, practically allowing Hollen to kiss its torso, as its head snuck around behind her and she felt the chill of its massive teeth against her back. Soon enough, the chill was replaced with pain and a scream that elicited from Hollen’s own lips. The lean woman arched forward, feeling one of the muscles in her back becoming loosened – and with a simple jerk of the neck, removed from her entire body, causing her to crumple. She hit her knees in the mist, but felt nothing against her flesh. Her back was warm, red blood spilling down a freckled canvas of white skin. A tremor wracked her entire being while the pain overloaded her senses into a state of shock.

Then, with terror, she watched her own muscle come into view as the beast dropped it on the floor before her – partially eaten. Hollen felt bile rise in her throat for a moment; there was something incredibly disturbing about seeing her own, steaming flesh there, and more disturbing that the pain of this dream felt so incredibly real. Her fists were clenched upon the ground and soon her eyes copied the motion, hiding her sight. That is, until she heard another thunk, and curiosity won out. Cracking open her gaze, she saw a chunk of mutilated flesh beside her own with a shimmering rib bone protruding from the muscle, contrasting beautifully and starkly against the blood.

Red and white.

Staring at the pieces, feeling a lightness about her, Hollen watched as the large beast lowered its head and nudged the meats towards her, a combination of her blood and its blood dripping from its jaws. Heaving forward, Hollen felt as if she was going to suddenly be sick, but nothing happened. Panic began to rise in her throat as she realized what the creature wanted her to do. Blue eyes met milky white once more before she reached forward a shaking hand, grasping a bit of her own back, to slip it between her lips. The flesh was warm, wet, and wonderfully tough. Chewing became a chore, but the slippery piece soon drifted down her gullet. Then, she reached forth to grasp another piece, feeling her stomach twist as she noted the tinged edge that seemed to be present around the Wendigo’s own muscle. Soon, that piece joined her own in the contents of her stomach, fueling a power that soon was making the true purpose of this horrific dream known.

The pain gradually began to subside – was that from a lack of blood? She felt lightheaded, but not as though she was dying. Was she in a state of shock? Yes, very much so. Eating her own flesh was a habit, a nervous tick, but never had she eaten so deeply to consume her own muscle mass. And never had she eaten from the Wendigo itself – never had it even been and offering, despite how they’d practically starved before. But this was all just a dream, wasn’t it? But the pain had felt so real; the flesh had tasted real… Her head lifted slowly to meet the opposing gaze, surprised to see a lack of malice there. But the biggest surprise had to be that the atmosphere was changing, was buzzing with energy that she could not explain.

And the beast stepped back.

It nodded its large head, dripping blood to the mist.

And then… it was gone.

And Hollen awoke.

[Mael]

There was a smell.

At first, she couldn’t detect it, as though it was simply a subtle aroma just beginning to waft into her suddenly awakened senses. There was a pounding in her head, a distraction, as she tried desperately to gain her bearings after the nightmare her subconscious had just formed. Swallowing roughly, the redheaded female managed to open her blue eyes tentatively; she was unsure what to expect as she trailed her fingertips along her lower back and near her shoulders. There was nothing there. Her eyes opened fully with an accompanied deep breath, and a sigh. It had just been a dream, again. She shifted slightly on her mattress, contemplating returning to the dream world, before she realized that smell was back… and stronger than ever. Sniffing slightly, she frowned, shifting to sit up and glance around the darkened room. It was too dark for her to see; the light had not risen in the sky quite yet. A mumble of inconvenience left her as she shifted around and grasped at a large candle that was half-limp at the base of her bed. She grabbed a mostly-emptied box of matches, striking one to light the candle in her grasp before softly shaking out the original source. Rubbing her eye with her free hand, she twisted her body around and planted her feet onto the hardwood floor.

Except it wasn’t just the hardwood floor she was stepping on.

Her gaze flew down to the ground as she bent at the waist, lowering her candle to view what stickiness she had stepped into. A guttural sound lifted from her as her eyes widened, realizing that there was a blood red trail leading towards her pale appendages, warming the bases of her feet and toes. Standing shakily, she began to slowly follow the trail to the far corner of her room, watching as the pooling liquid seemed to become thicker and more widespread near her destination. As the candlelight seemed to finally illuminate the source, she froze, her feet like boulders in the slowly growing patch of blood. Her eyes alighted upon a body, limp and lifeless, twisted and morphed in the corner. It was unfamiliar – dark hair rested atop his head, his skin was pale, and his body was lean with muscle, yet emaciated. Her eyes quickly found the source of the pooling blood – a huge gaping hole in the man’s side, where a chunk of flesh and a bone used to be.

She drew in a quick breath.

Connecting the dots quite easily, she crouched down, uncaring of the blood in order to get a closer look. The black hair of the figure was long and tangled, obscuring most of his face, like his twisted limbs seemed to conceal most of his body themselves. Reaching out her hand, tentative digits brushed away the locks from his eyes. The result of what she saw caused her to jump slightly as a feeling of confirmation washed over her. What stared at her, wide open and lifeless, were milky white pools that she knew she could always recognize. She had been watched by them for years, feeling them along her form, always aware but never truly seeing. A sadness seemed to overcome the small woman as she felt tears well into her eyes – a feeling she was completely unfamiliar with, seeing as she rarely felt sympathy or sorrow towards another being. But this creature… this monster, who had really been a man all along, had been her guardian. She drifted her fingers towards his eyes, hesitating only momentarily, before dropping her hand. She’d had the desire to close the lids, shutting out the known world, but had stopped. No sense in doing so. She shifted, looking over the body, her mind quickly catching up with the situation at hand. This man had been her Wendigo… for some strange reason, she’d always fantasized the idea of the monster being a female. It had always been so caring of her, so maternal in action, that she never would have imagined that it was more of a father figure. Of course… that probably stemmed from her latent daddy issues.

A small cracked her lips at the memories.

Standing once more, she trailed her fingertips through the blood pool, bringing them to her lips in order to lick them clean. The cogs in her mind turning, she made her way out of the room, leaving bloodied footprints along the way to the bathroom. She lit three spare candles along the counter-top above her old make-shift cabinet bed, lighting up the otherwise windowless room. Grasping desperately at some of the pooled water in the sink, she scooped a copious amount into her dirtied hands and splashed it onto her hands. A faint nag at the back of her mind began to tug at her senses, reminding her briefly to refill the sink with fresh water later… before she realized it was an unnecessary, habitual thought process. Shaking her head and drying her face by lifting up the stomach of her shirt, she soon braved a look up into the cracked, aged mirror before her… and she screamed.

Fingers tightly clutching the edges of the sink to prevent falling, Hollen’s breath caught in her chest as her blue eyes stared back at themselves. She recalled, before she’d shattered the radio, that there had been an old wives tale about what one could see in the mirror. The mirror can reveal one’s true self, it had creaked.Staring into one’s reflection can be the same as looking into one’s own soul. No one else sees it the same way you do… only you can witness the true you. The words playing over and over again in her head, she realized that she was witnessing something no one else would be able to ever see. Staring back at Hollen was not her true reflection… but rather, her soul… what she’d become.

Staring back at Hollen was a beast.

It held sky blue eyes, sharp and cognitive, and the head of a large wolf whose maw was gaping with sharp, white teeth. Antlers were in place atop its skull, ears present shortly before it, and the large, thick neck led down into an emaciated looking torso. The entire spectacle was covered with red-hued fur, matching the copper color of her hair, and a stark contrast with the whiteness of the walls surrounding her. She inhaled; the beast inhaled. She shifted her head tentatively and the image followed her. Soon, she was rapidly stepping back, taking short, shallow breaths as she backed herself against the wall outside of the bathroom doorway. Her head tipped back and she closed her eyes, trying to calm her rapidly beating heart whilst also trying to gather her thoughts. This had been the plan all along… the beast had raised her, prepared her, for this moment. She had passed some kind of invisible guidelines… completed her rite of passage, and the man had believed that it was her time now. Suddenly, a sense of immense calm and clarity passed through her, causing her beating heart to slow. Her body began to move, setting off towards the stairs as she descended and headed into the hallway.

Light was beginning to grace the Earth.

As she stepped onto the front porch, she gazed up, seeing the dark tones turn to reds, then oranges, then pinks and yellows. The lights were always so beautiful. Bitter cold air filled her lungs in a short breath before she formulated a plan. It started with a step off the porch and blood-stained feet beginning to leave a trail as she cut her way through the familiar forest. It was a departure; it was a new beginning for a new life. Inhale. Exhale visibly. She picked up her pace, reaching parts of the forest that were less and less familiar the further she seemed to travel. She knew where she was heading… it was an area that had been forbidden. Forbidden until the right moment. As she spotted a road, hearing vaguely familiar sounds, she began to cry out as her body forced itself into trembles. Her clothes were in tatters; her frame was outrageously thin. She could use a few good baths. She was covered with fading scars and her bare feet were cracked from the snow, leaving behind a bleeding trail… a perfect cover-up.

“Help! Help… please!”

Her voiced cries were high pitched as she attempted to put desperation into her tones, waving her frail arms. Her little show attracted some attention as she stood at the side of the road, shivering as if she were freezing cold. Four cars pulled over as people of all types began to rush towards her, asking too many questions, letting out appalling sounds of disbelief and disgrace. A blanket was soon draped over her trembling shoulders and wrapped about her mostly-exposed torso. She heard someone get on a phone… calling the police, she suspected. Teeth chattering, her wide blue eyes and sunken cheeks seemed to add to her act. The women stood closest to her, rubbing her arms, trying desperately to get her to speak. No one said anything offensive; no one said what they were really thinking.

She had no idea how much time had passed before a very large, noisy vehicle sped to their location and parked, joined by police officers. A staff of people seemed to rush to her, gathering her up and leading her out of the snow… leaving her bloody red footprints to end in the pureness of the white snow. She was bustled into the back of this obnoxiously loud, noisy vehicle, and placed onto a bed. People were constantly being careful, tentative, asking her questions and probing her carefully for answers. She knew the whole routine; it was how her parents had acted before they’d turned to more… crucial, panicked methods. Never looking anyone in the eye, never speaking, Hollen gazed towards the retreating forest as the witnesses of her discovery began to depart. Her cracked feet dripped blood against the shiny floor of the vehicle before they covered the red with white bandaging. That felt nice. She could see the red of her blood in the snow, the trail she’d left behind. Someone would follow the pattern back to the cabin, of that she was sure. But who would believe that this frail creature could have done any harm?

As the large doors began to close, a hidden smile graced her lips.

Positively maniacal.

The Wendigo would live on.

Fin.

[Mael]

Thank you for reading Part II of my little, completed story.
I appreciate you taking the time to do so.
If you've accidentally stumbled upon this, but missed Part I, there is a link below provided of the first Part.
Little Hollen Gale
I hope you enjoyed this little story of mine.
-Mael.