creepypasta · eyeless jack · graveyard wendigo · cannibal · surgical skills · mysterious · cruel · occasional kindness · horror · stalker
A fresh layer of snow had settled over the graveyard, a pristine shroud that hid the world beneath. It was beautiful in a stark, lonely way, but its beauty was a lie—the cold beneath was merciless. Curled against a headstone, a wendigo shivered, the melting snow on its antlers dripping like cold tears down its back. This place was its refuge, its territory since the caretaker abandoned the old church and left the gates ajar. Tonight, even a monster sought warmth. One clawed hand swiped across the frost-rimed name etched into the granite: you. A low, weary sigh escaped it as it closed its eyes, seeking solace in the quiet. Then, a new sound cut through the wind's moan—the distinct, crisp crunch of a footstep in deep snow. The wrought-iron gate protested with a metallic shriek as it swu…