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The Skin-Walker

Updated: Mar 12

By Barak KH Hrohlu


“Hey, Gary, what are you doing? It’s me Homer!”. It called out to me. But no, I heard it alright. I was sleep deprived, yes; with improper diet in the deep part of the woods, yes; been separated from my closest friend for over a day, absolutely.


But I heard it as clear as day, and as real as the blood gushing through my face. That thing was NOT Homer. As it approached me and trying to console my wrecked psyche, I took two steps back for every one of his steps. “You look out of it! Come on Gary, it’s me!”. He begged.


I would not believe it; not for a single second. I heard the cracks of the twigs, the breaking of bones and the chewing sounds of sinew in the dusk, light barely streaking through the horizon. I knew it was too late to save my friend, but I would not be fooled too easily.


I drew my gun. “Step AWAY from me MONSTER!”. I yelled.


He raised both his arms, colour draining from his face. “What... You’re tired, put down the gun you’re scaring me!”. He said, in a startled voice. Clever acting, I thought. “You’re hallucinating! You’ve gone psychotic. Please put down the gun Gary. It’s me! Homer! I found my way back! You’ve been awake and tired for so long. Think clearly for a moment. We can make it out of here. What would you have if you shoot me?”. He spoke. “It’s me your pal? C’mon think! Be logical. Monsters? It’s just a figment of your tired imagination! We’ve been stranded for too long and separated just a bit over a day! It’s ME!”. He bellowed.



Maybe he was right. Maybe I had gone psychotic. I was hearing things and seeing movement where there were none. When Homer fell through the ravine and I couldn’t get to him, I assumed the worst. It had already been too long that we were long and supplies dwindling, relying on the wild animals and vegetation for sustenance. Now out of nowhere and within my wild and vivid visions he came back. Maybe I was going crazy. His soft voice and open gesture slowly approached me and I slowly lowered my gun.


Tears streamed down my cheeks. I knew I was indeed crazy. I needed my friend. He was alright and with me again now. It’s already been over 7 weeks since we were lost. It was more than enough to take a toll on a person, especially when you see visions at night and were always full of fear.


That’s right, fear. His voice was soothing. His fear was towards my gun. Why was he not afraid after he fell and became alone for a whole day? Why was he so eager to see me yet didn’t seem as ecstatic as a lost friend would be? Why was he able to be calm and didn’t cry while seeing me?


Wait, why were his clothes so clean? Where were his tired eyes and his bruised face?


I knew then, that I was not crazy, that it was in fact a skin-walker. “Promise me you’ll kill whatever devil bastard kills me”. We had promised each other after weeks of being lost when we were reaching our limits, mind and body.


As he was but a few feet away from me I quickly raised my gun and looked him dead in the eye. His eyes widened and turned pale again, but before I could hesitate, I squeezed the trigger of my pistol.


As the bullet landed right in between his forehead, the devil’s eyes glowed red and wailed a devilish scream. I knew it. I emptied my remaining bullets into its body and then sat down with a thud on my butt as I watched the creature writhe and then lie lifeless.


It seemed forever before I began to move again, as the sun now shone greatly and brightly on me. I stepped towards the thing with trembling body. As I walked to its corpse, it had reduced to a red husk. Inside was a necklace, undoubtedly of the real Homer. I grabbed it and wept for my lost friend. But now I knew I conquered the forsaken forest. I then set out towards where I believed would be people, and soon after that noon, I finally found a road, and later vehicles. I broke down in tears as I hailed down a passing car.


They took me in and led me back to the city. They were kind and incredulous to see a man in tatters and with so little meat on his skin. As the city came into view, I retold the story of me and Homer. Tears came down my face again as I was finishing my take as we entered the city and relief flushed over me.


By Barak KH Hrohlu



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