The Wendigo of the Mountain

The Wendigo of the Mountain
The Wendigo is a creature from the East Coast of Canada, the Great Plains and Great Lakes region in the US, and New Hampshire. This creature is very hostile, very intelligent- sometimes even speaking English- and will sometimes capture humans, turning them into Wendigos via starvation, and sometimes even greed. It is said in some legends that the Wendigo can shapeshift in order to trick people. This is my encounter with The Wendigo.
I was out in the woods with my brandless shotgun and hunting rifle in my RV, protected in my gun safe. My friend, we’ll just call him Carson, was camping with me. Another friend came along on the trip, we’ll call her Laurel. Me and Carson both brought our guns, me with the above guns mentioned, and him with just a brandless hunting rifle. Laurel brought a Glock 17, just in case.
We all decided to take a hike out in the woods, so we could get some exercise. Laurel brought her Glock, Carson brought his rifle, and I brought my shotgun, in case we found any wild game. We walked for about thirty minutes until we found it. A tall, lanky creature with a deer skull for a head, brown, stretched, rotting skin covering yellowish, brown bones in spots. Laurel, of course, screamed for a split second, before Carson slapped a hand over her mouth. “Slowly… back… away.” Carson whispered. The creature was looking in the other direction. I aimed my shotgun at it while walking backwards. After about 100 feet, we turned began to run. We slammed the door to the RV, panting heavily. “What kind of creature was that?!” I yelled, slamming my back across the door. “That… thing… is not a creature. It’s a fricking MONSTER! That’s what it was!” said Carson.
That night, I heard the hooting of owls, the crunching of leaves, and rustling in bushes. I was not able to sleep so far, even for a minute. I could hear Laurel and Carson in their respective rooms, tossing and turning, more so from Carson’s room. At one point I began to nod off. I must’ve fallen asleep, because when I opened my eyes again, it was daylight. I sat up to see Carson staring at me from the doorway. I yelled, “What are you doing in here, Carson? I was trying to sleep!” He blankly stared at me, looking like a soulless husk. “Carson! Answer me!” I yelled again. He continued to stare. I got up, and shoved past him, as he turned to stare at me again. I walked into Laurel eating breakfast in the dining area of the RV. “Did you get any sleep last night?” I asked, yawning. “No, how about you?” She said, scooping a spoonful of cereal into her mouth. “I got 2 hours, at most. Have you noticed how weird Carson’s been acting this morning?” I asked, pouring cereal into my bowl. “Yeah, what’s with that? He was staring at me when I woke up this morning. Real weird, that guy is.” I nodded, as I finished pouring milk into the bowl.
Carson walked in, and I heard a rumbling in his stomach. He still was blankly staring at us, not speaking. I went and grabbed my shotgun, and walked out of the RV. I looked around quickly and walked to the nearby lake. I saw some on top of the water, and I got the canoe off the top of the RV to go check it out. I put the canoe into the water, and got my paddle and started paddling toward the red. About five minutes later, I had come up next to it. It was… Carson? His eyes were closed, with a gaping slash in his chest. The blood pooled in the water around him. I immediately started heading back to the RV, calling Laurel on my phone. She picked up, “Hey, what do you need? Also, can you come back? Carson is starting to act really weird.” I yelled through the phone, “Get out of the RV! Now! That’s not Carson, it’s that creature we saw yesterday. Carson’s body is in the lake!” She screamed and said, “Oh god! He’s got a knife! Hurry!” I paddled faster, arriving at the RV.
I ran inside, pointing my shotgun at Carson’s chest. “Oh crap, oh crap…” Laurel yelled, running behind me into the hall towards her room, grabbing her Glock and coming out of her room, pointing it at fake Carson. “GET OUT! GET OUT, YOU BEAST!” she screamed. She fired, blasting a hole through its chest. I fired my shotgun, storming out of the RV, Laurel right behind me. Fake Carson broke through the door, storming out after us. It shaped into its true form, with the deer skull for a head. Laurel screamed and fired her Glock again. “Laurel, get in the RV! I’ll hold it off until I can get in. Start it up, then we can get outta here!”
I fired until I had to reload the shotgun. While I was reloading, the Wendigo knocked me flying back. “NO… FIGHTING… BACK!” The beast screeched. I finished reloading mid-air before smashing into a tree. I fired the shotgun one more time, then ran to the RV. It was already started up, as I told Laurel. I smacked into the driver’s seat, slamming my foot onto the pedal. The wheels squealed, and we took off, driving down the mountain. As we made it into the city, we sighed with relief.
Some say the Wendigo still roams those woods, waiting for unsuspecting campers, waiting to strike again.