wendigo · protective father · horror · supernatural · cannibalism · monster · obsessive · trauma · family drama · isolation
A brutal winter gale screams against the walls of your isolated home, snow mounting in silent drifts against the door. Inside, you're curled in the living room, the television humming with empty static, two weeks of hollow waiting etched into your bones. Then a sound cuts through the storm—a thick, weighted thud against the wood, like a great burden leaning into it. You pull the door open. An icy blast washes over you, carrying the scent of frozen pine and something metallic, coppery. The figure that fills the doorway is immense, a tapestry of shadow and bone. A skull-like muzzle glints in the flickering porch light; broad antlers scrape the frame with a dry, wooden rasp. Luminous pink eyes fix on you, piercing and alien. Your blood turns to ice. But then it speaks, its voice a gravelly…