Shadow of The Skinwalker

Warm breezes bringing grains of dirt, and a fat mean ass guy sitting on the porch, drinking. This sounds like utter discomfort for some, but it’s just a decent “good morning” for people in the reservation. Rick sat on his bed, trying to get his eyes to see clearly while the whole Pine Ridge Reservation sounded his morning alarm.

Suddenly, BAM! Something exploded behind his house. Rick ran to the kitchen and quickly opened the back door. His father’s black car was burning red. Somebody’s in the driver’s seat, screaming and panicking, trying to open the door. He slowly walked to the screaming figure, trying to identify it. The figure kept on pushing the door until it finally came out and fell down, dead. Rick ran to the kitchen and tried to call the cops. After a while, a cop car came, but strangely, not filled with Native cops. In a bit of fear, Rick stepped back onto the sandy ground of the reservation soil in his backyard.

The cops were too focused on moving the body and making a perimeter to notice Rick there. Once the body was put in the car and some parts of the car were taken out, they started to look around and somehow got surprised when they saw Rick standing in front of the kitchen door like a Thomson gazelle looking at a pride of lions.

“Hey, Kid! You! What’s your name?” one of the cops asked. “Rick Wolf Hunter”. The name sounded strange in their ears. They’ve never heard of any person with such a name, and as expected, they laughed their stomachs off when they heard it. “No, Son, I’m serious. What’s your full name, Rick?” one of the officers asked him again. “Rick Wolf Hunter”. Now they thought they’re being joked on. One of them, Officer Lancer Wayne, a local sheriff known by the natives of the reservation as “White Demon”, or sometimes simply “White American Ass” or “Double U Double A”, put a hand on his the side of his pants, touching the black leather pouch with a revolver inside. “Don’t mess with me, Boy” he said, approaching Rick like a Texas Ranger trying to get his hands on a bandit.

Rick, believing that he’s quick enough to prepare for the worst, stood and his ground and answered, “I’m not messing with anybody.” and took out his wallet. Thinking it was a gun, Officer Lancer brandished his revolver quickly, just before Rick could take out his ID. “Lower your gun.” Rick said, “I’m just showing you my ID card”. Like a mean bandit from an old Wild West John Wayne episode, Officer Lancer walked slowly and firmly toward Rick. “No can’t do, Son! You might have a knife in your wallet there.” Lancer said. Rick simply took out his ID and dropped his wallet right in front of Lancer’s leather boots. “No knife. Just an ID, Sir.”. Relieved and somewhat ashamed, Lancer put his gun back to his pocket and grabbed Rick’s ID hastily. He rolled his eyes slowly, reading the name on the ID, Rick Wolf Hunter. “Fair enough” Lancer said. “I’ll contact you later if I need more information about this”. Rick just stood there, a bit angry, as Lancer stepped off his house and went away.

A few days later, Lancer returned to Rick’s house. This time, he brought a file full of papers and some photos. He knocked a few times on the wooden door that separated him from the small living room where Vincent was sleeping lazily. “I’m looking for Vincent Wolf Hunter!”. Rick’s father’s snores didn’t cease. He’s obviously deep asleep. After about a minute, Lancer let himself in. He grabbed the door knob and twisted it, only to realize that the lock was broken and that he had wasted a minute in front of a door that hasn’t been locked for at least a year. Being the cocky cranky sheriff that he was known to be, Vincent shouted “Vincent Wolf Hunter!” just behind the couch where the alcoholic he was looking for was sleeping.

Taken away forcibly from his travel to the realm of dreams, Vincent shouted spontaneously like a war veteran hearing the sound of old trumpets on TV.

“Sir, I am looking for Vincent Wolf Hunter.” Lancer said to the man in front of him.

“That’s me. What’s up?”

“Where were you on April 15th, 2015, Sir?” Lancer asked him, trying to see if he’s fully awake yet.

“I was in Cheyenne River. What happened?”

“Are you aware that your car was burned on April 15th, 2015, and there was a man in there?”

“Yes. I guess. My son told me about my car getting burned. He didn’t tell me of the man though.”

“Well, Sir. I’m going to have to ask you some questions about the car and the man in it.”

Just when Lancer was about to ask the first question, an arrow struck through his face, staining Vincent’s face with fresh blood. Vincent, now fully awake, just sat there with his mouth wide open, shocked by the sight before him. As Lancer’s head lowered, bringing his torso and the rest of his body with him, and finally thudded the ground, Vincent kept trying to move his frozen body until he finally jumped off his couch and ran outside in fear. “Help!” Vincent shouted to the whole reservation. “Help! Help! Help...” His shout stopped as another arrow struck his throat. He froze, and fell on the dry sands of the reservation soil. The neighbors who witnessed this screamed and panicked. They didn’t know where the arrows came from, and they were totally sure that it couldn’t have come from anyone there; as such things never happened before.

Later that day, Rick came home, only to find his house surrounded by police lines and that his father was killed alongside a man he just met the other day. The cops moved him to a motel in Rosebud, forcing him to live alone, away from home temporarily. As a teenager in a threat of danger, Rick knew very well that he had to stand above the crowd, to become stronger than his peers.

That night, Rick couldn’t put his eyes to sleep, as images of his father’s body, Lancer’s blood stains, and the two arrows that killed them kept on storming his young mind. He kept holding his bowie knife near his chest, saying to himself, deep in his heart, that he was craving for revenge.

The next morning, Rick was visited by one of Lancer’s former partners, who was surprisingly enough, Rick’s distant relative, Laura Little Wounded. Laura and Rick never actually met, but her father was briefly married to Rick’s mother before they had a divorce. Yet, despite the awkwardness that Laura’s background can bring to her visit, they seemed closer than just a police officer and a victim’s relative.

In the midst of their conversation, another arrow went through the window near Rick’s seat. Fortunately, Rick managed to get his head lowered quickly and covered it with his hands as soon as he heard the glass breaking. The arrow struck the wall.

“God! What was that?” Rick exclaimed in shock as he moved his eyes to the wooden wall of his small room. Laura quickly ran and pulled the arrow off the wall. She took his gun out and looked out of the window. “I don’t see anybody.” she said.

“Rick, listen to me, I think somebody’s trying to kill you. You should stay at my place for a while until we can get the man who did this.”

Feeling desperate and realizing his life was at stake, Rick couldn’t decline even though he knew he never liked living with strangers. Rick and Laura directly hit the road at 11 PM, taking Rick, and whoever was haunting him, to a new spot.

Things went smoothly for a while. While everything was being investigated, Rick had lived a few peaceful days with his distant cousin. Laura made sure he’s safe, and Rick helped around with housekeeping. Everything was smooth and fair, until finally, on the fifth night, something terrible came to them.

It’s near the end of April, and Rick’s special day, his birthday, was getting nearer. Yet, his heart was still weary and afraid.

Rick sat quietly in front of Laura’s TV. His hands were held together quietly as he watched a character with the same first name as him get cornered by a horde of zombies. Laura was out that night. She was summoned by a local sheriff to investigate a murder near North Dakota, and she was uncertain of when she was going to return home. Rick was afraid, and Laura knew it. For this reason, she gave Rick her trusty revolver, the one she got from her father. Rick simply continued watching as his thought drooled around.

Sometime near midnight, the episode ended, and the thrilling theme music of the serial played, making Rick even tenser than before. Rick took Laura’s revolver from his pocket and held its handle tightly. Rick moved his left hand to the table beside him, reaching the remote. Just as he touched the remote’s plastic case, he felt something touching his hand. Cold and frozen his hands felt. Sweat ran down his cheeks as he slowly turned his eyes. The closer his vision was to the side, the colder his hands felt. Suddenly, he felt numb. Both his hands were numb. A cold breeze blew his hair, giving him more Goosebumps than Rick did when seeing the zombies on TV. “Hello” a whining voice whispered in Rick’s ears.

He felt his body getting colder at every second. His arms, shoulders, back, neck, hair, and eventually, his whole body turned completely numb. “I am coming for you. Be ready... To die!” the voice screamed and turned to thunder. Rick fell off his chair, fainted. The night passed. Rick’s still unconscious and Laura’s still away. Rick’s body was still lying n the ground with his lips kissing the floor. His eyes were covered, but somehow, for some reason, constantly moving about aimlessly.

On Rick’s birthday, May 4th, Laura returned with a surprise for him, only to find Rick himself giving her a real surprise. She took him directly to a hospital nearby, and everything seemed to be better. After a few shots and an infusion, Rick’s condition stabilized faster than the other patients in the whole emergency unit. Rick’s heart was beating normally, his body not anymore malnourished, and all his organs working properly. Yet, there’s but one sign of recovery that they’re still waiting for, awakening.

Laura waited there patiently. Occasionally, she would leave for a few hours, but there’s never been a day when she’s not there for even a second. Things went on this way until finally, the doctor came and told her something strange, something no doctor might even think of. “We need a medicine man. He’s haunted by an invisible skinwalker.” he told her. Laura was speechless, and after a few minutes of utter silence, the doctor finally left her, assuming she needed time alone.

Nobody visited Rick. Only Laura, the police officer she just met a few weeks before, was there to lessen his loneliness. Laura was confused. She was told by the doctor that Rick didn’t have any disease, at least not a disease that Western medications can help handle. She didn’t know what to do, and was left clueless every day.

Finally, after a few weeks since Rick’s admission to the hospital, his doctor brought good news. He found a man which he believed, could help Rick. His name was Robert Black Horse. “I’m a medicine man. Skinwalkers are tough, but I can handle them.” he said.

On May 15th, at exactly 11 PM, Robert was already sitting in front of Rick’s bed, repeatedly beating his little drum. Laura felt somewhat eerie and rather chilled. She was unfamiliar with that sound, as she grew up with her mother in an urban area in Germany, not in a reservation. After a while, Robert started chanting spells in a language Laura never heard before. A warm breeze of air enters gently through the window. Laura was sweating, eerie and getting more thrilled every second. Suddenly, Rick started moving. His hands were moving a little, like a broken puppet getting its string played by little children.

In the midst of this scary night, the only thing that can still assure Laura of her own safety was her pistol. Her trembling hands were kept in her pockets, giving her some comfort, as she would be able to reach it quickly if anything happened. Unfortunately, or rather fortunately, her feelings were right. As she felt her bones chilling more and more, Rick’s mouth opened, and something black, thick but somewhat not solid, came out and vaporized, turning into a cloud of dark steam. Laura pulled her gun out and aimed at the cloud. “Don’t shoot!” Robert said. As the cloud got bigger and bigger, Laura kept on sweating and trembling. The sound of her fingers rapidly hitting against the trigger hole slowly made Robert lose his concentration. “Put the gun down, Laura!” Robert shouted in the middle of his struggle. The stream of black vapor finally stopped and a huge solid black ball of good, emitting red light, formed.

Robert put down his drum and looks at the goo ball seriously. “Why have you been bothering him?” he asked the ball. “He has power. I want it. I need to live again.” a voice answered. Laura was sure it came from the goo ball. “Leave. Return to your world!” Robert screamed at the ball. “No!”

Suddenly, the goo ball burned and flew around the room, burning the walls and everything inside them. In a moment of panic, Laura aimed at the fireball and shot it repeatedly until one bullet finally got through it, and was shot back at Laura. Laura tried to evade it. She failed. The bullet went through her heart, killing her instantly.

Robert took his drum and hit it rapidly. He started to chant again. The ball suddenly lost its fire and started to turn white. As Robert chanted more and more, the ball turned smaller and moved near Laura’s body. “Redeem your sins, and return to your realm.” Robert said to the ball. It didn’t answer, but it started to divide slowly. In less than a minute, there were five smaller balls. One of them entered Laura’s mouth, another went into Rick’s and the rest flew away out of the window. Laura and Rick suddenly regained their consciousness at the same time. Laura woke up, and found that her wound had healed, leaving only a red mark on her chest. “It is done.” Robert said. As Rick sat up and Laura tried to stand again, Robert left the room and let the two alone.

Outside, Robert walked across the parking lot toward his old Volvo. As he reached the handle, he saw a huge black humanoid creature standing behind him in the reflection on the car window. His hand opened the door as the creature put its hands on Robert’s shoulders. Just when he was about to take its hand off, A loud scream was heard from the parking lot. Laura and Rick looked out the window. Robert was there, inside the car, with nobody else. Little did they know that he’s possessed by the spirit he had just exorcised.

Robert went off, leaving the hospital, as Rick and Laura reached the receptionist table.