An American Wendigo in Paris

I’m concerned.

And unfortunately, there’s no comforting explanation to quell my fears. I’ve been hunting in Paris for almost a year, and everything has been normal. Most of my hunts have been limited to what you would expect to find in Northern France: werewolves, vampires, a few dark faeries, regional ghosts and demons, etc.

But last night–I shit you not–I killed a Wendigo.

A Wendigo! In Paris.

I don’t know whether it’s because of climate change, or cargo ships, or something worse, but there have been things springing up in this city that shouldn’t be here. We all know there are some supernatural beings that can’t travel. They’re tied to a place, and their traits can’t be spread by bites or infections.

So how did a Wendigo get all the way to Paris?

Looking back, there were a few occurrences that should have tipped me off:

  1. Reports of violent dreams that strongly mirrored Wendigo Psychosis.
  2. An instance of a cannibalistic attack in a Paris brawl. (The victim lost a piece of his lip and ear, but otherwise escaped unharmed.)
  3. Sightings of a creature in the Métro tunnels. Most notably, sightings of a tall man-like figure standing hunched over on the platform of the Croix Rouge ghost station of “ligne 10.”

Of course, this third pointer is what ultimately led me to the station, but I was not expecting to find a Wendigo. I’m just lucky I had a few resin shafts in my quiver. My crossbow would have been useless if I hadn’t been able to light the arrows.

Ultimately, I was hoping to find some confirmation of the creature by posting the experience to this website. I’ve included a crude sketch (I never claimed to be an artist) from my log journal, and an audio clip of the Wendigo’s roar.

Wendigo

Although my run-ins with Wendigos have been limited, and this particular beast did seem to be of a slightly different variety, I firmly believe it was a Wendigo.

I hope someone proves me wrong.

 

 

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