Amongst the Order (Watchers of the Veil #1)

Chapter 1

The beast was skulking within the cave, unaware of what waited outside.

          I had tracked the creature all afternoon, following ambiguous reports from the village huddled at the bottom of the mountain. Most inhabitants gave only ghost stories and jokes regarding the monster making meals of their neighbours that dared venture up the old nature trail, but a middle-aged bartender spoke up with a claim that his brother had been taken by the beast only recently while on a hiking trip with two of his friends. The trio left midday, after lunch, on Saturday. Nightfall now blanketed the hills two days later and no-one had heard from any of them since.

          The bartender was hesitant to tell me more when I neglected to answer his question of who I was and why I posed an interest in searching for the beast, but the fact that I believed his worries was enough for him to shove a map of the route in my hands, pour me a drink and beg me to find his brother. Dad was too busy with research, so I set off on my own hunt. I had faced a beast such as this before and would be fine, he said as I left.

          After traipsing through the thick forest patched on the west side of the mountain for an hour, I came across a clearing littered with broken supplies and pine needles, and circled the area.

          A yellow tent, so bright it hurt my eyes, had been pitched. The colour would not have attracted the beast – vision was mainly based on movement – but it would have made its hunt easier, acting as a tag for the unsuspecting hikers once their presence was noted. I'd call them fools but they didn't know any better. As far as they were concerned, the wendigo was a strange and scary bedtime story.

          From the camp, I found a trail: deep footprints reminiscent of human feet that led me deeper in the dark. I stretched to step over the undergrowth and came face to face with the mouth of a cave, letting out a breath that collected in a cloud before my lips. The air was brisk on the mountainside, but it was the thought of what was inside that made me shiver.

          I had no doubt it was in there. Wendigo's favoured secluded hideaways they could stash their prey. If any of the hikers were alive, they were to be within.

          I switched on the torch I had strapped to my belt and stepped inside.

          If not for the possible survivors, I would have set a trap for it at the mouth of the cave to not waltz into its thriving environment. However, there were three hikers missing. Every minute I waited for the beast to spring the trap was another moment that could be their last.

         There was a splash. I cringed at the sound and gingerly pointed the torch downwards. My boots were now coated in red and my mouth went dry.

          I cursed. No-one could lose that much blood and still be alive. Chances were that I was returning from the cave with two – maybe less – survivors. With this in mind, I pushed on, following the blood trail to what I knew to be a gruesome scene at the end.

          Minutes passed that felt like hours. It was effort to keep my eyes pointed straight ahead to avoid any unwanted surprises, and not to look too long at the vicious claw marks that scarred the cave walls. For a brief second, I let myself wonder if it was the wendigo or its victims that made them, then stashed away the thoughts as I always did. Thoughts such as those could kill you just as much as a wrong step. I had to stay focussed.

          Then I heard it. The wet crunch of flesh and bone. My blood curdled into ice as I turned a corner and covered the bulb of the torch.

          It hunched over the body of one of the hikers, grey skin thinning over the sharp bumps of its curved spine with every movement. It ripped into the hiker's chest, pouring him onto the stone cave floor with a vile, merciless sound. Wendigos were horrid creatures. Horrid. It was hard to imagine them as humans, once.