More men have been taken. The Indians have confirmed that we are dealing with a wendigo, but we are under ten men now. Our rations ran out 3 days ago, and some of the Indians are looking at me, as if I am a meal. I never Sleep without my rifle or pistol now that things have been this tense for days. But they aren’t the only hungry ones out here. My appetite is growing more and more and I fear I may make a mistake I don’t want. We will be here forever at this rate, but I will not die before I see my family again. I will survive.

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.