Chapter 7: Wendigo's Fall
POV: Adam Carter
The air burned with the stench of char and old blood as Dean's latest flare painted the forest in hellish red light. Adam's scar felt like someone was carving fresh lines into his wrist with a white-hot blade, and the wendigo's phantom hunger was gnawing at his stomach like acid. Every breath tasted of smoke and predator musk, and his borrowed instincts were screaming contradictory messages—run from the fire, hunt the wounded prey, feed on the fear that saturated the night air.
Sarah Kline was still conscious, propped against a fallen log with Elena's field dressing dark with blood against her shoulder. Her breathing was rapid and shallow, shock setting in despite Elena's best efforts to keep her stable. The wendigo could smell her weakness from wherever it was lurking in the shadows, and that scent was driving Adam's mimicked hunger to new heights of desperate need.
"It's coming back," Adam managed through gritted teeth, fighting the urge to follow his nose toward Sarah's blood. "It won't abandon a fresh kill."
"She's not dead yet," Sam said flatly, but his eyes were scanning the tree line with the intensity of someone expecting an attack from any direction.
Dean was down to his last two flares, the phosphorous cylinders glowing like miniature suns in his grip. "Then we make sure it stays that way. Elena, how long until the chopper gets here?"
"Twenty minutes, maybe thirty." Elena's voice was steady, but her hand never left the grip of her silver knife. "That's assuming they can find a clearing big enough to land in."
The wendigo's roar split the night, closer than before. Adam's phantom hunger spiked in recognition, and he had to physically clench his fists to keep from responding with a roar of his own. The creature was circling them, using the thick forest cover to mask its approach, but Adam could track its movement through the borrowed predatory instincts flooding his system.
"Northwest," he whispered. "Maybe forty yards and closing."
Sam's suspicion was still radiating off him like heat from a forge, but he nodded grimly. "How can you possibly know that?"
Before Adam could fumble for another lie, the wendigo struck.
It came through the trees like a pale blur, eight feet of emaciated fury that moved faster than anything that size should be able to move. Its claws had grown longer during the hunt, sharpened by hunger and rage, and its eyes burned with an intelligence that was definitely not animal.
Sarah screamed as the creature landed between her and the rest of the group, cutting off her escape route. The wendigo's head swiveled toward her with predatory focus, and Adam felt his borrowed instincts sing with approval. The wounded prey was isolated, helpless, perfect for—
No.
Adam's mental energy was sitting at a dangerous 30%, but he forced himself to tap into the wendigo's speed anyway. His system engaged with a sensation like lightning coursing through his veins, and suddenly he was moving with inhuman grace and power. But this time, instead of letting the hunger control him, he fought against it.
The phantom starvation clawed at his consciousness, demanding that he join the hunt, claim his share of the prey. The wendigo's instincts whispered that Sarah's terror smelled delicious, that her blood would taste even better. But Adam gritted his teeth and focused on one simple fact: he was human, and humans protected each other.
Even when the monster inside them said otherwise.
[You're fighting instinct, kid.] [Don't lose.]
He reached Sarah just as the wendigo's claws descended toward her throat. Adam tackled her sideways, his enhanced reflexes allowing him to absorb most of the impact as they rolled behind the fallen log. The wendigo's talons raked across the bark where Sarah's head had been a heartbeat before, leaving gouges deep enough to reach the heartwood.
The creature's shriek of frustrated rage was loud enough to shatter glass.
Dean's flare gun boomed, the burning magnesium striking the wendigo in the shoulder and sending it stumbling backward with inhuman screams. But phosphorous wasn't enough to kill something that had survived winters that would freeze the blood in human veins. The wendigo recovered quickly, its burned flesh already beginning to heal with supernatural resilience.
"Stay down," Adam told Sarah, his voice rough with suppressed hunger. The smell of her blood was making his mouth water, but he forced himself to focus on Dean's voice shouting tactical instructions.
"Sam! Left flank! Elena, keep it contained!"
The wendigo was faster than their tactics, though. It feinted toward Elena, then pivoted with fluid grace and lunged directly at Dean. The hunter's second flare went wide, the phosphorous cylinder spinning harmlessly into the forest as eight feet of nightmare tackled him to the ground.
Adam was moving before conscious thought kicked in, his borrowed speed carrying him across the clearing in three heartbeats. But the wendigo's instincts were still flooding his system, and as he watched the creature pin Dean to the ground with claws pressed against his throat, part of Adam actually felt envious.
The hunt was supposed to end with feeding. The prey was supposed to scream.
That moment of hesitation almost cost Dean his life.
The wendigo's claws began to descend, and Adam could smell the hunter's fear mixing with the scent of Sarah's blood. His phantom hunger spiked, demanding that he choose a side—predator or prey, monster or human.
Then Sarah whimpered behind him, a small sound of pain and terror, and Adam remembered why he was fighting.
He slammed into the wendigo with enough force to crack ribs, his enhanced strength sending both of them tumbling away from Dean in a tangle of claws and curses. The creature recovered first, its inhuman reflexes allowing it to twist mid-fall and land in a crouch. But Adam had bought Dean the seconds he needed to reach his backup weapon.
The flare gun's third shot took the wendigo center mass, and this time Dean's aim was perfect. The phosphorous burned through pale flesh like it was tissue paper, and the creature's final scream echoed through the forest with the sound of something ancient and hungry finally meeting its end.
Adam collapsed as the wendigo crumbled to ash, his mental energy bottoming out at 20%. The phantom hunger was still there, gnawing at his stomach, but it felt more distant now—like an echo of an echo rather than a living thing trying to devour him from the inside.
"You pulled through," Sam said quietly, and for the first time since Adam had met him, there was no suspicion in his voice. Just exhaustion and something that might have been respect.
Dean was checking Sarah's vitals, his movements steady despite having come within inches of becoming wendigo food. "She's stable. Chopper should be here in ten minutes." He glanced at Adam, who was still sprawled on the ground fighting off waves of phantom hunger. "You okay there, kid?"
Adam's stomach cramped with starvation that wasn't his own, and he had to swallow hard to keep from drooling at the lingering scent of Sarah's blood. The system's punishment was already settling into his nervous system like a familiar poison.
[Retribution: Hunger pangs for 24 hours.] [Stay human, kid.]
"I'm fine," he lied, pressing one hand against his cramping stomach. "Just tired."
Dean's expression suggested he wasn't buying it, but he nodded anyway. "Yeah. Happens to everyone their first wendigo."
Elena was cataloging the creature's remains, what little was left after the phosphorous had done its work. "Clean kill. No chance of regeneration." She looked up at Adam, and her expression had shifted from cold suspicion to something warmer. "You saved her. When it mattered, you chose right."
[Achievement: "Wendigo's Fall" – Killed the wendigo.] [+10% Mental Energy.]
The system's reward bumped his gauge up to 30%, but it did nothing to quiet the phantom hunger. If anything, having more energy just made the wendigo's lingering instincts stronger, more persistent.
Adam clutched his stomach as another wave of false starvation hit him, and Dean actually chuckled. "Don't worry, kid. First hunt always leaves you feeling like you could eat a horse. We'll get you a burger once we get back to civilization."
Sam's suspicion had softened into something that looked almost like acceptance, though his eyes still tracked Adam's every movement with clinical precision. "How did you know where it was? When it was circling us?"
"Lucky guess," Adam said, the lie coming easier now that he'd had practice. "Just... felt like it was getting closer."
The distant sound of helicopter rotors was growing louder, and soon Sarah would be on her way to a hospital where doctors would stitch up her wounds and never know how close she'd come to becoming something's midnight snack.
But as the phantom hunger gnawed at Adam's stomach and the system's voice whispered in the back of his mind, he couldn't shake the feeling that his own wounds were the kind that couldn't be stitched closed.
[You're still human, kid.] [For now.]
Through the trees, Adam caught a glimpse of something that made his borrowed instincts prickle with unease. Not movement—reflection. Like sunlight bouncing off a mirror, even though the sun wouldn't rise for hours.
The medical helicopter was getting closer, but whatever was reflecting light in the forest depths felt older, hungrier, and far more patient than any wendigo.
System Interface
[MIMIC SYSTEM - STATUS WINDOW]
Host: Adam Carter
Level: 2 (Struggling Hunter)
Mental Energy: 30%
Current Mimic: Wendigo (Speed) - Depleted
Time Remaining: 00:00:42
Saved Mimics:
Ghost (Phasing) - Constance Welch[EMPTY SLOT][EMPTY SLOT]
Nearby Signatures:
→ Wendigo Residue - Eliminated
→ Human Trauma (Sarah Kline) - Medical Evac
→ Mirror Entity - WARNING: APPROACHING
Recent Achievements:
"Wendigo's Fall" – Redeemed from failure"Hunter's Choice" – Chose humanity over hungerSoul Integrity: FRAGMENTING(Instinct bleed detected)Anomaly Status: ESCALATING(Moderate Priority)
Active Retributions:
Phantom hunger pangs (23:41:07 remaining)
System Mood: "You're still human, kid. For now. But something's watching from the mirrors..."
[STATUS WINDOW CLOSED]
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