Hunger

This story began my writing career. It won an award that a bunch of people in my class won, but I was really happy with how mine in particular turned out. I'm not too happy with the ending, but whatev

Hunger

“The Wendigo is seen as the embodiment of gluttony, greed, and excess: never satisfied after killing and consuming one person, they are constantly searching for new victims.”

- Kahentinetha

The Ojibwe Tribe was a very giving one. They held a strong reputation for their kindness and generosity. Travellers always assumed it was just because it was in their nature, but locals knew the truth. The Ojibwes’ sharing nature was sparked by a legend passed down by their people for generations.

Everything started with two brothers: Wasichu and Wematin. Wasichu was 23 winters old, had a black, matted, greasy hair that was stuffed into untidy ceremonial beads that drooped lazily over his large, thick body. He was known in the tribe for his hunting prowess and his name meant “Takes the fat” due to his childhood tendency to always take the best food from his little brother, Wematin.

Wematin had a more slender and shorter build than his larger sibling, and his dark hair was fashioned into a warrior’s wolftail that hung loosely from the back of his head. The tribe’s elders named him “Wematin”, or “Brother”, for always supporting and helping his older sibling, sometimes at his own expense. He was notably intelligent and held true to many of the Ojibwes’ oldest beliefs and legends.The two were often selected to forage for food for the tribe, since the functionality of Wasichu’s hunting skills and Wematin’s cleverness appeared to be as natural as that of the moon and stars. Unfortunately, not all of their quests were as successful as the tribe elders had believed.

“I thought Mother said not to go into the Dark Forest.” Wematin said, “She says it’s full of evil spirits.”

Wasichu acknowledged his younger brother’s concern. “Yes, well, this is the fastest way home. Now pick up the pace”

The two young men were returning from a scavenging trip, and the tribe expected to see them return in three moons’ time. The council had believed that the cherry trees might still have had some fruit upon them, but when the pair of brothers had arrived there, all but one tree lacked fruit. Wematin suggested leaving some of the cherries for others who might have needed the food once the snowfall grew harsh, but Wasichu explained that the needs of other tribes were far from being a concern of his. Three suns had already passed in the time it took to get there, and it would be humiliating to arrive back both late and empty-handed. The only sound other than themselves was the gentle crunch of snow beneath their feet.

“What about the Wendigo?” insisted Wematin, “People who are possessed by evil spirits-”

“...and feast upon their fellow man. Yes, I know the stories. Mother told them to me too, you know.”

Taking the shadowed, overgrown path through the Dark Forest was the last thing he wanted to do, especially at night. In fact, all Wasichu wanted to do was feel the welcoming heat from the campfire back home, not freezing himself to death in the snow. The tribe’s elders frequently spoke of monsters and evil spirits lurking there, and they chilled the young hunter to the bone. The Chenoo, the Water-Panthers, the Horned Serpents. all of them. Above all other legends stood the Wendigo: a towering, emaciated, pale demon whose only desire is to use its fangs and claws to rip apart and consume those who wander too far into the Dark Forest. The elders always said that the only way to defeat such a great and terrible evil was to pierce and melt the monster’s heart.

All the more reason to get back to a fire. Thought Wasichu

Wematin’s whining snapped his brother back from his thoughts.

“How much longer?”

“We should be back by sunrise, brother. Now, let us hurry before-”

Wasichu stopped. Faintly, he heard growl. Not that of a wolf or mountain lion or even that of a bear. No, this was something bigger. Something hungrier. The elder brother scanned the darkness enveloping them, and caught a gleam of moonlight reflecting off of a pair of eyes. The growl began to grow deeper, excited. A large figure began to slowly emerge from the blackness. Wasichu felt his heart leap up into his throat.

“Run!” Wasichu shrieked, his voice cracking from fear.

Wematin, who had apparently remained oblivious to the living nightmare’s approach, obeyed without question. Wasichu had taught him to listen to whatever he said in order to keep them both safe, and this time was no different. The two sprinted through the forest, a deafening shriek echoed from behind. The snapping of branches and twigs split through the air like gunfire as Wasichu prayed to whatever gods who could hear his desperate pleas. He was glad his little brother was so much slower; Should the creature get close, Wematin would be its primary target and he could flee as it gorged itself on his brother’s body. Wasichu knew that it was selfish and cruel to be glad about this, but he was too panicked to care.

“Wasichu!” Wematin cried, “What is chasing us!”

“Wendigo!!”

The younger tribesman paled. Both brothers knew that they could never outrun a Wendigo. The spirit haunting the creature’s body gave the demon speed faster than the flight of an arrow. The brothers’ eyes met. They knew that they couldn’t both escape; It was a matter of who would be killed and who would be able to flee. Crows forsook their treetop watchposts as another unearthly screech pierced the night. The pair winced. The sound was notably close to them, perhaps only a few canoe-lengths away. Wasichu screamed as he felt a sharp pain in the base of his spine. The last thing he heard before slipping into the darkness was the sound of his brother shouting his name.

Wasichu felt nothing at first. Then came the hunger. It writhed in his stomach like a snake caught in a trap. A mild warmth was blanketing him, but instead of relief, all he could feel was discomfort. His mind was muddled, and only the most basic and primitive of thoughts pierced the thick veil.

“No. No hot. No like hot. Get hot away.”

The elder brother’s eyes flashed open and he threw off the deerskin cloak his brother had draped over him. Wasichu scrambled away from the harsh light of the campfire and into the welcoming cold of the snow. Wematin was at his brother’s side in a heartbeat. The older of the two noticed the water sack that his brother was holding, and he snatched it from his hands. It was emptied in mere moments.

“Wasichu, are you alright?” asked the younger brother, stoking the fire with a long stick.

“Fire. Get fire away. Get food. “

“Hungry.” croaked his weakened brother “Hot.”

Wematin looked confused, but complied. He carried the cherries they had collected to Wasichu, who grabbed them and emptied the whole bag into his mouth.

“More.”

“One sun’s journey has passed since we escaped the monster, brother.” explained Wematin, “You must have tripped over a branch and knocked yourself out, but thankfully whatever was chasing us had lost our trail at that point.”

Wasichu was hardly listening to his brother’s boring story. He was too busy slowly scooching further away from the fire, its very heat being enough to make him sweat.

“Get food. Need food.”

“Say, how did you know a Wendigo was chasing us?” inquired Wematin, “If you didn’t, I don’t know how we would have escaped. I don’t know how we lost its trail as it is, much less without knowing what it was.”

“Doubts you.”

“Eyes. Roar.” came Wasichu’s reluctant reply.

Wematin’s eyebrow arched. “Roar? I didn’t hear anything.”

“Thinks he knows better.”

“It roared. Sent birds flying away.” mumbled Wasichu. His focus was directed entirely towards his caretaker now. He was so focused, he wasn’t even shivering in the snow. Or had that been the case for a while now? He didn’t give it a second thought.

Wematin shrugged, oblivious to his brother’s glaring“Oh. I thought that it was us who scared the birds. I suppose this is why you’re the leader between the two of us, eh?”

“Says you’re wrong. Wants to lead.”

The fire was a large blaze at this point, much to Wematin’s pride and Wasichu’s despair. Wematin pulled the makeshift fire-poker from the embers and leaned it against a nearby tree. Wasichu’s gaze shifted from his brother to the smoking, ash-covered rod, whose orange embers glowed brightly at the tip.

“Weapon. Wants you dead. Kill you.”

“Are you feeling alright?” asked the younger of the two, “You look a bit pale. Do you want to stoke the fire while I hunt to bring you back some meat?”  

No fire fire bad no no no no no.

“Here, you sit right there and I’ll be right b-”

Wematin was cut off almost as quickly as his brother attacked. Wasichu clawed away at his brother’s throat, his chapped lips curling into a twisted smile. A scream shattered the icy silence of the night. Blood stained the thick layer of snow like dots of red berry upon a cloth, with the thin crescent moon being only witness to the last living moments of the young tribesman.

Wasichu slunk through the dense woods, his actions slow and mechanical. All he could think about was the hunger. When was the last time he has eaten? Not as though it mattered. It never seemed to matter. A snapping of twigs and the scent of blood drew his attention towards a path, where he saw three small figures, who were barely taller than his waist. They each carried lanterns, creating a blinding circle of light around them. He began to creep behind them.

The three figures halted their journey. They were shouting, calling out a name - no, two names - into the blackness surrounding them. Just as the figures began to move on, Wasichu grabbed one of them by the leg and dragged the poor soul off the trail and out of the circle of light and safety. In the dark, it was easier to see the figure’s face. It was a familiar face. One that filled his heart with hate and rage and a feeling long forgotten.

“Brother.“

But how could it be? Wematin was no more! Yet, there was the face of the one who had died trying to save someone far beyond salvation. Wematin smirked at the demon that was his brother..

“Look at what you’ve become. How foolish you are!” the brother jeered, “Even my brutal death is nothing compared to your suffering, yet you still cling to this sorry excuse for an existence as though you were still human!”

“Not brother. Brother dead. Not brother.”

Wasichu began to feast upon this copy of his brother, but a spear flew past his head. There to greet him were the other two figures, both now identifiable as Wematin.

“‘A Wendigo is after us!’ you said!” shouted one, “Ha! Little did you know what was truly giving pursuit!”

“Your greed and gluttony is unrivaled!” Continued the second, “Even if we had returned to the tribe, for what reason would we have wanted to keep someone as vile as you a member of our family?”

“Don’t stop. Not brother. Not brother. Not brother.”

With two quick slices, Wasichu finished off the two Wematins. His hunger was furiously gnawing away at his insides, but he couldn’t bring himself to eat.

“Can’t eat. Never kill brother. Brother dead, not your fault. Make not brother.”

Once the faces of his victims were unidentifiable, Wasichu began to scarf down his prizes. His meal finished, he looked up at the sky and the full moon hiding behind a cover of clouds. Wasichu began to feel emotions that had been dormant for longer than he cared to remember. Sadness? Loneliness? He could hardly tell. The once-respected hunter stood upright, and let out a roar so powerful that it could be heard by tribes miles away. The tribes, however, claim the roar did not sound frightening or angry or even hungry.

It sounded like it was in pain.

“Not your fault.”

Author's Note

Again, I know the ending kinda sucks, but if you have any other friendly and constructive criticism I'd really love to hear it

Reviews

[Carol Cashes]

Quite a unique tale and I liked that you didn't over-explain the brother's morphing into Wendigo, or that of the demons resembling his brother. You also compel the reader to interpret (?) whether or not Wendigo is occupied by one soul at a time or that there others. Good job and thanks for a good read.

[Nathan]

Thank you! I tried really hard to make the brother's possession noticeable but vague, and I'm really happy to see that somebody appreciated it. Thank you!

[E Chadwick]

The ending, good sir, DOES NOT SUCK. Good LORD, I love this story. I've always been interested in stories about the Wendigo, and this one definitely stands out. This story is FANTASTIC. I love the writing style, the twist, the sad/scary ending, the topic, EVERYTHING. Aside from a typo here and there, this is PERFECT.

[Nathan]

Thank you so much!! I was trying to find the best way to make the ending work, but I felt that the last few sentences were kinda corny. I'm glad that you disagree, it makes me more proud of how it turned out. It's also really nice to see someone else who appreciates the wendigo, I heard about it as a little kid and immediately latched onto it. It's absolutely amazing to receive this much praise. Thank you!!!