The town was worried after old man Connor hadn’t been seen in a couple of days. Christopher and several other men were tasked with checking up on the old man. Each man prayed that the old man had not met an untimely death down a flight of stairs or if a cow got angry and attacked him. They were not expecting the utter ruin that was his house.
To them, it appeared that the house was torn up by a terrible storm. It wasn’t until they saw all of Connor’s cattle having been torn apart that they began to fear the worst. The cattle were killed just as the other animals had before. They were ripped to shreds as if a butcher had gone mad and hacked the animals to pieces. Rather than pellets scattered around the farm, a single large pellet was left on the ground, just as foul smelling and just as disturbing as the others had been.
At that point the men believed that Connor was dead, yet Christopher wouldn’t give up hope without some evidence. Though he was worried that he would find Connor in the same state as the cattle. They ventured further into the ruined house. Nothing remained of his home. Everything he had was trashed or broken. He had memorabilia from before the American revolution and now most of it was torn to shreds.
Christopher managed to find the cellar door and pry it open, calling his fellows to his side and then descended down the darkened flight of stairs. Luckily, one of the men had a lantern on his person and used it to guide Christopher and the rest down the flight of stairs. They found themselves in the ruined basement that smelt of death. They noticed a rotting stink in the basement and feared the worst.
Christopher checked every hiding spot he could find until he came upon the barrel. As the others called out for Connor, Christopher moved his hand closer to the lid of the barrel. He placed his hand and moved it. Opening the barrel, his heart sank when he saw Old man Connor. He was dead. The stress of the ordeal he went through had frightened him to the point of death. They fished his body out of the barrel and laid it on the ground. Rigamortis had set in and his body was as stiff as a board. His face was frozen in a state of pure primal panic.
One of the men crossed himself over the sight of Connor. When pulling the old man out of the barrel, Christopher noticed something. Now that the body was out of the barrel, he peered inside. In his frightened delirium, Connor wrote a message. Christopher’s heart skipped a beat when he read it.
“The Devil is pale.”
It had been drawn in blood. Connor had ripped off his own fingernail to write his message. There was nothing more to do here besides take Connor back to the town. The entire town came to mourn Connor. Despite his abrasive personality, he had a heart of gold, and was the last remaining founder of the village. They placed him in a pine box and thought that it would be for the best that Connor not be seen by the children, so the box had been nailed shut.
Father O’Finn read from the bible as he presided over the funeral.
“And I saw a new heaven and a new earth: for the first heaven and the first earth had passed away. And I John saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down from God out of heaven, prepared as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a great voice out of heaven saying ‘Behold, the tabernacle of God is with men, and he will dwell with them, and they shall be his people, and God himself shall be with them, and be their God.’ And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away.”
About that time, Kanuna and his brothers had entered the town to deliver a stag to Max, only to see the funeral take place. Kanuna went over to see who had passed away and found Christopher with his family. He whispered to Christopher, not wanting to disturb the funeral.
“Christopher? What happened?”
Christopher kept his head low. He looked at Kanuna with sorrow in his eyes and a long frown on his face.
“Kanuna…It's old man Christopher…He’s gone."
Kanuna turned pale at the mention of Connor’s death. He looked down and felt his heart sink.
“Connor? Oh…oh I am so sorry, my friend.”
Christopher placed his hand on Kanuna’s shoulder.
“I’ll explain what happened after the service is over. You’re welcome to stay at my place.”
Kanuna lowered his head and nodded, stepping away to inform his brothers over what happened as Father O’Finn finished speaking the verse.”
“‘-and I will be his God, and he shall be my son.’Most of you knew him as ‘Old man Connor,’ but Connor Matthews was a pillar of this community. His faith in our lord was true, and it led him to help found this village we have. Without Connor, none of this would be here, and we owe Connor a great debt that we can not possibly repay. We knew that this day would come, yet even then we could not be fully prepared for the utter loss our community has been dealt with.”
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“If ever anyone needed a helping hand, mister Connor was there. If someone had a question that only the wisest amongst us could answer, Connor was the first man to point towards. His loss is a heavy blow to our village, yet his memory will live on in each and every one of the lives Connor touched. We must not shed tears, for Connor is not dead. No! He is beside the father, where he has been renewed, and everlasting joy has been awarded to him. I’d like to close this with a short prayer.”
Father O’Finn bowed his head, and everyone else copied him.
“Dear lord, give us the strength to continue our journey through life without mister Connor by our side. We pray that he is with you and that he can guide and protect us from beyond. His absence will be felt as the winter has only begun. Please Lord, protect us in our hour of need. In the name of Jesus Christ, we pray. Amen.”
After the service, everyone began to leave one by one. Christopher took Kanuna to his home where everyone would sit at the table and discuss the nature of Connor’s death.
“And we found the cows all…tore up like the others.”
Kanuna shook his head and drank a small tin cup of coffee.
“All five cows?”
Christopher nodded solemnly.
“All. Five. Cows.”
Kanuna swallowed hard, feeling rather sick. He looked away from Christopher for a moment or two in order to process the situation. He rubbed his hand over his mouth nervously and breathed in deeply before exhaling.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this…thing?”
“I didn’t want to discuss it in front of Annie or Elisha. Right now that doesn’t seem to be the main issue. This thing is responsible for Connor’s death, and I want to know what.”
Kanuna took another sip of coffee as Annie was busy taking care of Elisha to spare him from the grizzly talk.
“I see… What are your plans now?”
Christopher shrugged and bit his lower lip.
“Honestly I have no idea. I’d say hunt this thing and kill it, but I have no idea where to look or even what it is I’m hunting.”
Kanuna thought for a moment and scratched his head.
“Have you ever seen it?”
“No…”
The situation seemed hopeless. It was like fighting a ghost in every aspect of the phrase. Then, Christopher had a sudden epiphany as if lightning had just struck his brain.
“But I think I know who did.”
He stood up and looked over to the side where Annie was.
“Annie darling, can you please get Elisha’s drawing real quick?”
She nodded and went into Elisha’s little area and brought the paper over to Kanuna for him to look at. Christopher leaned back and sipped some coffee.
“My son said he saw him out in the woods. Called him ‘the pale man.’ Has anyone of your people seen something like this before?”
Kanuna studied the drawing very closely. His blood ran cold at the sight of it, and his heart pounded in his chest, almost threatening to explode out of his body.
“...Kanuna?” Christopher looked at his friend with great concern. His voice snapped Kanuna out of his daze and he shook his head.
“I have a small idea as to what this thing is… We must confirm this with my father. He will know what it is and what to do.”
Christopher nodded and cleared his throat. The journey would take much of the day tomorrow, so they would rest at the cabin that night.
Later that day, several Cherokee children were doing as all children are wont to do. They ventured far away from home to play their games, pretending to be great heroes and terrible monsters. One little girl ventured too far from the rest of her friends in a bid to play a hiding game and got lost. She wandered through the woods.
“Hello? I don’t want to play anymore. I want to go home…”
Speaking in her native language, she called out for help until she reached the mouth of a cave. She tried to peer into the inky black darkness of the large hole, made even larger by her smaller size. It was as if the earth had a large gaping maw ready to swallow her whole. She stepped back for only a few inches when she heard something. A strange, lonely sound from deep within the cave. A sound that didn’t frighten her at first. Rather, it inspired pity. It was the aching sobs of something inside.
The girl’s kind heart gave way and she stepped forward and listened to the crying. Every instinct in her body told her to run away and find her place home. To forget about this place and never return. She should have done exactly that, but children are among the most curious of creatures right alongside cats. She couldn’t help but say one word. A simple word, but one that sealed her fate the moment it's utterance escaped her lips.
“H-Hello?”
The thing inside heard her. It turned and sniffed the air. It smelt something familiar: something that even in its ancient age had not forgotten about. It smelt her blood. It smelt the blood of her ancestors. Human nature —and the evils thereof— is universal: it doesn't matter where people are from; who they worship; and what exactly the type of circumstances arise, people are capable of committing the worst evils imaginable across all nations, faiths and races. The girl was ignorant of the kind of things her ancestors did long ago when her people first found themselves in what would be known as America.
The creature however knew. It knew firsthand the kind of cruelty her forefathers were capable of. It was a victim of that type of cruelty. And it was enraged. The girl quickly heard the sounds of thundering footsteps as the beast charged at her, and the final thing she heard was the beast's painful, mournful cries of vengeance and hunger. A hunger that it blamed her people for causing.