A Rough Night

The fierce winter winds wailed and blew clouds of snow into the path of our car as Jenny and I tried to reach the ski lodge for our weekend getaway. Suddenly the car lost traction and skidded off the back-country road into a ditch.

Looking around, we spotted a light shining from a cabin not far from the road and went to seek shelter. Our pounding on the door was answered by a pair of eyes peeping around the cracked door as a man asked, “W-w-who’s th-there?”

I responded, “Our car went off the road and we need shelter.”

He quickly admitted us and bolted the door securely. I could see the fear in his dilated, darting eyes and hear it in his quivering voice. “What’s wrong?” I asked, “Are we not safe here?’

In a trembling whisper, he said, “Can’t you hear it? In the wind? Outside the cabin, but still near it? The sound of that terrible evil spirit whose very name whispered softly in the night strikes stark terror into a brave man’s soul?”

“Nonsense. That’s just the wind,” I responded.

“No! It’s out there, and it’s got my partner!”

After a very anxious night with that wild man, the storm finally subsided, and we went out into the frigid air to check on our car with our host following close behind.

We all stopped short with eyes bulging and jaws ajar when we went around a corner of the cabin and looked down upon a pile of human bones in a patch of blood-stained snow.

Our companion stammered, “See! I told you! Windigo was here and had Henri for dinner.”