The Story Of The Wendigo Novels & Stories

I sighed seeing her clearly unhappy with my answer," it is... a lot of different things. The creation of a fire witch and an alpha wolf. It doesn't mean that I was always going to end up this way, it's just how fate decided." She knitted her brows together," what do you mean?" "There was a bigger chance I would've been a wolf or a witch. Not a hellhound," I paused and tried gathering my thoughts," those who are born into this roll usually lose their identity after our first shift and the council takes us. It's been a constant battle to contain Cinnabar." My wolf snarled angrily as I let her in on more. He was the biggest driving force in keeping Eloise in the dark. Worried that we would driv

He was uncontrollable and only his father could battle him, well, he managed to get out of it alive once when he tried to put him in the cage. The chains loosened and we could hear the howls of the Wendigo. Even the pack members took a step back as their fear enveloped us. And I believe that’s their mistake. We all know what feeds the Wendigo the most. It’s fear. They love the scent of fear. It feeds them more. And with the full moon, they are unstoppable. Even silver or wolfsbane is not enough to weaken them. I rolled my eyes, I should have expected this would come. Ceylan is too much of a coward to even try to fight me himself. Instead, he relies on selfish methods.

One thing she noticed was a particular man who lived in the cabin alone but gets occasional visitors. With time, Willow realized that they were werewolves too which was perfect for her plan. She also picked extra clothes in case there would be any need for her to shift. She spied from a distance behind the thick branches of the cold forest but she knew she had to get closer in order to get the information she needed. Moving with caution and a little twist in her gut, Willow quickly crept to the back window. She heard voices, smelled weed, alcohol and other distasteful substances she couldn't name.

The ground trembled. Then—I found it. The moment. The Wendigo reared back, mouth wide, ready to consume. I dove forward, jaws wide, and bit down into its throat. And I burned. The fire that had awakened in me roared out, licking from my mouth, my claws, my very soul. The Wendigo shrieked—not a cry of rage, but terror. It was burning. From the inside out. It stumbled back, flailing, its whole body igniting, curling, blackening. The fire roared, not orange, not blue—but Blood red. Sacred.

Marisol’s POV The forest went silent. No birds, no insects, no wind just oppressive, unnatural quiet. “Everyone behind me,” Kael ordered, his wolf form bristling. “Now.” We clustered together Marion’s fighters, Vera, Gray, Dr. Rhodes, and me at the center. “What are they?” I whispered. “Wendigos. Ancient curse-born creatures that feed on supernatural essence.” Dr. Rhodes’s voice shook. “They were sealed away centuries ago.”

He quietly took all those members in the pack, gave them shelter and food. However, he wasn’t aware what his enemies were playing behind him. We didn’t know when few actual rogues joined our pack using the same excuse and started living with us, working and observing us. We weren’t aware that pour pack members were being fed wolfsbane added with silver in the food, the quantity was kept very low so no member could identify that it had been fed until it was too late.

"But I believe that you are very tight-lipped, right Mr. Smith?" "Y- Y- YES, I will make sure no one would ever hear a wind out of this!" Ken swore with an exaggerated nod. Mike White, the Lord of Warine, who wouldn't know his name in this whole empire? Even the most frightening and hideous mythical beings that stayed in the abandoned land of Marshfoth knew well what to do when they heard his name. And that was to run away! He didn't kill people due to his amusement and Warine the land he was responsible for never suffered from anything. Instead, the land was far prosperous for over centuries. But the man had the least humane heart. He would kill people he disliked with only one word,

Thud. Ryder was trying to push himself up, his muscles trembling like a newborn foal’s. Sweat or maybe it was a tear from the pain tracked through the grime on his cheek. “It’s not a Wendigo,” he gasped. “Wendigos are all rage and speed. This… this thing is patient. It’s got all the time in the world.”

Rolling her eyes Kim knelt down beside me, fixing her eyes on the rogues as they continued their meal. "This started centuries ago." She started to seem to enjoy teaching me something. "When wolves discovered that they could shed their earthly shell, they began to eat the flesh of innocents. With each innocent they ate, they became more powerful and more of their flesh began to deteriorate and disappear until all that was left were wendigos. " "So this is how wendigos came to be?" I asked. "I just thought they were wolves that ate innocent flesh once and then turned into that."

I rushed towards them and concentrated on my sense of sight to identify the perpetrator. Then I saw it. It was the beast of night and day. One that history had written about. The beast, called the Wendigo. I have never seen one, only read about them in books and scrolls. Wendigos were werewolves who had turned off their humanity, hunted, and killed their own. They are strictly carnivores and they feed on their own kind. They had no trace of logic in them but the worst thing was they could only complete their shift by dark magic.