I hesitantly take another step onto the algae riddled stones that line the riverbed. Anticipating every obstacle under the water was a task that had grown easy throughout my many years as a hunting guide. From the banks of the Salmon River to the peak of Mount McGuire, I had hunted, scouted, and trekked all through the back country of northern Idaho.

This trip had been especially challenging for me. I had a newborn girl at home with my wife of 8 years, every moment apart from them has felt exhausting. I would not have been guiding this year, had a very lucrative guiding trip not been presented to me. Mr John Stevenson, a former CEO of some oil company, had contacted the guiding authority a month prior. Stating that he had received hunting rights for a grizzly bear in Idaho. This was an almost unheard of opportunity in the guiding world and it came with a rather large payout if successful. It’s a deal I couldn’t pass up.

The Grizzly bear is a noble and viscous omnivore. Eating anything it can get its paws on in order to put on extra weight to sustain itself through the hard winter months that are approaching rapidly. We had been hot on the trail of the predator for several days now, finding kill piles scattered randomly throughout the forest. The beast had been eating anything from small rabbits, to birds, to large mammals like the white tail deer. I had a sneaking suspicion the bear we had been trailing was ill, since many of these animals we found were not the typical prey of a bear that size.

Another strange phenomenon was occurring at every kill site was a distinct rotting smell that lingered in the air despite the corpses all being relatively fresh. The air seemed to hold a certain unease to it, almost like there was someone watching us. Every second spent analyzing the kill felt like an hour as my body screamed at me to flee. The constant battle against my primal senses was draining and I kept my rifle loaded incase the bear remained in the area. I needed to work fast, the sooner the job was finished, the sooner I would get to return home with enough money to support my family for a year or more.

The river was a wall. The tracks led up to the bank and disappeared, leaving me to believe that our prey had either crossed the water or continued upstream while submerged. We had to cross to examine the opposite bank for tracks that would lead us in a direction. I could feel the resentment the CEO held for the delay in time, the rich man had hoped for an easy hunt with a large trophy to show his executive friends in an effort to flaunt his masculinity to the crowds. He never expected that the journey would entail so much work.

I look back to see if the man is keeping up with my pace as we cross and I am surprised to see that he is right behind me. He had been lagging behind for a couple days now, I was beginning to worry that he would tap out and I wouldn’t get the bonus of finishing the hunt.

That’s when the smell of rotting flesh punctured my nasal cavity. The smell was so disorienting that I almost lost my balance and got carried away with the current. I look back to the CEO to ask if he sees or smells anything. He is locked onto something up stream with a palpable fear in his eyes. I ready my gun before turning, anticipating the large predator to be there and within range.

That’s when I see it.

A man stands there. Unmoving. From the looks of him, he has not eaten in many days, possibly even weeks. He stands shirtless, all ribs protruding from his chest, with hollow sunken eyes, wearing the skull of a deer as a helmet of some sort. He is covered, head to toe. in dried blood. Remnants of feathers and fur cling to his skin like the day old scraps of food on a dinner plate. He is terrifying, holding an aura of gluttony that his physique directly contradicts. I glance to his feet and notice that he is wearing the paws of a grizzly as shoes. This man is starving, has been eating whatever he can get his hands on and we have been tracking him.

I turn to the CEO and whisper “run”

I turn to step. The slick rock slips from beneath my boot. Slamming my head on a boulder, I slowly lose consciousness, as I see the decrepit man approach.

THANK YOU FOR READING. I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THE SHORT STORY. I TOOK INSPIRATION FROM THE WENDIGO FOR THIS PASSAGE. IT’S AN INTERESTING CRYPTID AND I RECOMMEND YOU READ ABOUT THE HISTORY OF THE CREATURE!