Even Pat Clancy thought Jimmie had been imagining things. But Jimmie and Johnnie’s eyes met, and they nodded to each other. They knew that Cyprien Palache had been carried off by a Windigo.
The Haunted Inn
(China)
In China long ago there was a young man named Li Wei, who was traveling with three companions. Early one evening, the four found themselves in a lonely countryside, with a storm beginning to break.
Hurrying along the road that was fast becoming a sea of mud, they spotted a small inn surrounded by willow trees. Delighted at their good fortune, they splashed across to the door. The innkeeper greeted them warmly, and his wife gave them welcome cups of steaming tea. But the newcomers quickly learned that many other travelers, also caught by the storm, had arrived before them. There was not a bed to be had—or even space enough for all the guests to stretch out on the floor.
The wife whispered something to her husband. He shrugged, then said apologetically, “The only space I can offer you is in the little building that stands some distance behind our inn. But I must warn you that the corpse of my daughter-in-law is laid out there. She died suddenly, and my son has gone to fetch a priest so that we may hold a proper funeral. He has not returned, and now I do not expect him until morning. You may all sleep there if you want to.”
At first, young Wei hesitated. “It is surely unlucky to sleep in the same room as a corpse,” he told his friends.
“That is true,” one of his fellows agreed. “But what else are we to do?”
“I am too weary to argue,” said Wei’s second friend.
The third companion simply said, “Listen.” The sound of rain battering the window lattices, and wind rattling the roof tiles decided the matter.
“Very well,” Wei said to the innkeeper, “we will accept your offer.”
So the old woman gave them mats to hold over their heads, while her husband guided the four travelers to the dark outbuilding that was set some distance from the house.
Inside, the innkeeper lit a candle. There was clean straw for bedding. At the back, a heavy curtain hid the unfortunate woman’s body from view.
As soon as the old man was gone, the four friends settled down onto the straw. But while the others instantly fell asleep, Wei was troubled by the sense that something was amiss. He lay listening carefully, but he could hear only the rain pattering outside. The sputtering candle cast curious shadows on the pale curtain.
Then, with a hiss, the candle went out. At the same moment, Wei was sure that he could hear a rustling from behind the curtain.
Abruptly, the cloth was pulled aside. In the faint light seeping through the lattices, Wei saw the shape of a young woman, whose ghastly skin seemed almost to glow. Her nails looked as long as daggers.
Wei tried to cry out, but he was overcome by a listlessness that left him unable to move or speak. All he could do was raise his head slightly as he watched the form of the young woman bend over his companions. At first Wei thought she was merely studying each sleeper’s features. But then he saw that she was breathing a greenish-white vapor into his friends’ faces.
With a tremendous effort, he forced his hand inside his robe. There he grasped a bit of parchment on which his village priest had written magical Buddhist phrases to keep him safe on his journey. Though his every muscle seemed to resist, he managed to place this on his chest, just over his heart.
When the creature approached him just as she had approached his friends, Wei closed his eyes like one asleep. Every moment he expected to feel the touch of her clawlike nails or her chill breath upon his skin.
But after a short time, he heard the whisper of her robe going away from him. Opening his eyes a bit, he saw the figure gliding toward the back curtain. When she had passed into the alcove, she let the cloth fall back into place.
For a long time, Wei listened, but he could hear no further sounds from behind the cloth. At the same time, the listlessness left him, and he was able to sit up.
Hurriedly, he tried to rouse his companions. He whispered warnings and shook each of them, but to no avail. They were dead, killed by the woman’s poisonous breath.
Suddenly he heard the curtain swept aside. He spun around and saw the woman coming at him, her claws outstretched like bundles of daggers. With a cry, the young man threw open the door and fled into the night. But in his haste he dropped his magic talisman.
Wei raced toward the inn and safety, half sliding down the muddy, tree-covered slope. Behind him he could hear the woman-thing in eager pursuit.
For a time Wei was able to use the willow trees as a screen, while he zigzagged away from his pursuer. But the creature quickly caught onto the trick, turned, and sprang at him, her extended nails aiming at his throat and heart. Wei was backed up against a willow tree. In desperation he threw himself sideways, tumbling into the mud. At the same moment, the woman’s clawlike nails, driven by the weight of her body and the force of her leap, embedded themselves in the willow’s trunk.
Wei staggered back toward the inn to rouse the inhabitants while the imprisoned creature struggled to break free.
When he told his story, he tried to convince the others to take up weapons and destroy the creature. But the innkeeper, his wife, and all the guests refused to do anything except bar the door and huddle together. Unwilling to face the monster alone, Wei joined the others as they watched fearfully and waited for the dawn.
Toward morning, the rain ceased. When the sun had fully risen, a few of the braver souls, led by Wei, approached the willow where he had last seen the creature. There they found the corpse, still fastened to the tree, dried to a husk in the sunlight.
When the innkeeper’s son arrived soon after with a priest, certain rites were performed, and the body was burned. After that, the place was never troubled again. But Wei, for the rest of his life, refused to travel the road that ran past the willow-shaded inn.
The Rolling Head
(North America—Plains Indians)
There was once a warrior whose wife had died. He lived with his young son and daughter in a lodge apart from other people, near a forest at the edge of the prairie. For a long time the hunting was poor, and the family had little to eat save roots and berries. It saddened the man to see his children growing thin and ghostlike.
Now, it happened that his daughter had a gift of powerful medicine, as her mother once had. One night she had a dream in which a voice told her where a huge spiderweb could be found. “Tell your father to hang this web across the forest path where the animals go,” the voice instructed her, “and you will no longer be hungry.”
As soon as she woke, the girl told her father what she had dreamed. That very morning, he did what the dream voice had said. When he returned to the web in the evening, he found deer and rabbits entangled in its thick, sticky strands. These he took back to his children for food. Soon his son and daughter grew strong.
After a while the animals learned to avoid the web trap. From time to time the man was forced to move his snare deeper and deeper into the woods.
One day, after he had hung the web in a new place far from his lodge, he chanced upon a large lake, beside which stood a huge tepee, painted all over with strange designs. Uncertain whether to approach, he remained hidden by some brush.
Suddenly a tall old woman, three times the height of a man, pushed open the door flap. She walked to the edge of the water, where she whistled. In answer, the surface of the lake began to move and shake. Soon a monstrous snake rose from the waves and crawled out upon the land. Then the warrior in hiding knew that he had come upon the lodge of Snake Old Man and his ogress wife, Hungry Old Woman. The warrior was very much afraid, and hoped they would not find out he was near.
But Hungry Old Woman began to sniff the air. “Someone is near us!” she cried. “Catch him and put him in the cooking pot. I am so hungry, hungry!”
The snake slithered so swiftly toward the hunter that the man knew there was no hope of running away. He drew his kni
fe just as the serpent wrapped itself around his body. All the while Hungry Old Woman cried, “Kill him quickly, so we can cook him!”
But the hunter thought of his children at home, who would be all alone if he perished. He fought as hard as he could, slew Snake Old Man, and cut the monster into pieces.
Then Hungry Old Woman gave a screech and ran after the hunter. He led her down the path that ran to the spiderweb. Behind him, he heard her jaws go clack-clack-clack as she tried to bite his elbows and heels. Then she was caught in the spiderweb. The ogress struggled fiercely, and had almost broken free, when the hunter struck off her head with his knife.
But Hungry Old Woman’s body freed itself and began to chase him. Meanwhile, the head had smelled the children. Now it rolled out of the forest toward the lone tepee on the prairie. Inside, the girl was embroidering moccasins with porcupine quills stained different colors. Her little brother, who was gathering firewood, saw Hungry Old Woman’s head rolling along the ground toward him, the teeth going clack-clack-clack. He ran away as fast as he could, crying, “Sister, I am being chased by a head!”
“Come inside!” his sister said, grabbing his hand. “Now close the tent flap.” They fastened the hide flap with wooden pegs. The head rolled against the flap and partway up the tepee; then it rolled back down. Again and again it rolled against the hide, crying, “Children, children, open the door. I am hungry, hungry.” The children knew it would soon split the side of the tent.
But the girl had a plan. She grabbed her quills and her root digger, a sharp-pointed stick. Then she told her brother to stand on one side of the tent opening while she stood on the other. She unfastened the pegs and drew the flap aside. Instantly the head rolled into the lodge and all the way to the back.
Then sister and brother jumped outside while the girl let the flap fall back into place. This kept the angry head inside just long enough for them to begin running across the prairie.
But soon the boy cried out, “Sister, I am tired! I can’t run anymore!” The girl looked behind them and saw that the head had gotten out of the tepee and was rolling along the ground after them. Its hair streamed out behind it while its teeth went clack-clack-clack.
So the girl threw a handful of yellow porcupine quills on the ground, with a prayer to the Great Spirit. Instantly a great tangle of prickly pears sprang up behind them. These grew as tall as pines and were covered with great yellow thorns. They stretched for a long way in both directions.
When the head reached the thicket, its hair kept getting caught in the thorns, and it could not get through at first. But finally it chewed free with its sharp teeth, and rolled after the boy and girl, who had now run far away.
But soon they looked behind and saw the head coming closer. Then the frightened boy called out, “Sister, I can’t run anymore! Save yourself!”
Instead, the girl threw a fistful of white quills behind her, with a second prayer to the Great Spirit. Then there sprang up a range of mountains so tall that white snow topped them.
But the head found a nest of rattlesnakes, who were the cousins of Snake Old Man, and they showed her a tunnel through the mountain. Soon she had passed to the other side, and out onto the plains again.
On and on the children ran, but when they looked back they saw that the head was almost upon them.
“Sister, I am tired!” cried the boy. “I can’t run anymore!”
Then the girl flung the blue quills behind her with a prayer. Where they fell, a great canyon opened. Far below, a river of swift blue water rushed through it. But, to her dismay, she saw that her brother, who had fallen behind her, was now on the other side. The rolling head was very close to him.
“Sister, help me!” the boy cried.
All she had now was her root digger. She laid this on the edge of the ravine, and it became a wooden bridge. Her brother ran across, and right behind him came the head, its teeth going clack-clack-clack. But the instant her brother reached her, when the head was still on the bridge, the girl shook the end of the root digger.
With a terrible shriek, the head tumbled down, down, down into the swift-flowing water, and was swept away.
Then they heard a shout and saw their father running toward the edge of the canyon; he was still pursued by the headless body. He ran right to the edge of the cliff. When the monster was almost upon him, he jumped aside. Unable to stop, the creature fell over the edge and into the river. In a moment it was carried away, just like the head.
The girl and her brother used the root digger to cross to where their father waited. He hugged them close. Then he picked up the weary little boy and, praising his daughter for destroying the ogress, led them back to the tepee. There they continued to live in peace, enjoying the plentiful game the spiderweb provided.
The Croglin Grange Vampire
(British Isles—England)
Croglin Grange in Cumberland, England, had been owned by a family named Fisher for over a hundred years. But in the last century they moved out and rented the house to two brothers, Andrew and Gordon, and their sister, Emma.
The threesome settled in easily enough, and soon made many friends in the neighborhood.
One hot summer day, when the sultry air made any kind of work impossible, the three dined early. Afterward they sat out on the veranda, savoring the cooling air, and watching the full moon rise and bathe the lawn and gardens in silver light.
At last they grew tired, and went indoors to their separate rooms. Emma found the night still too warm for sleep. Leaving her shutters open, and mounding the pillows behind her, she sat up in her bed, watching the moon through her ground-floor window.
Gradually she became aware of two tiny lights that flickered in and out of the row of trees that separated the Grange’s lawn from the village churchyard beyond. At first they seemed nothing more than fireflies to the young woman. But as she continued to stare at them, she saw them drawing nearer. To her surprise, they seemed to be embedded in a darker shadow, which had detached itself from the moon-cast shadows under the trees.
Emma’s hand went to her throat as she realized that something was approaching the house, and growing larger the nearer it came. From time to time the dark shape was swallowed up by the shadows of trees on the lawn. But it always reemerged, larger than before, and coming closer … closer.…
Emma was filled with horror; at first she wanted to cry out, but her throat felt paralyzed. Then she dreaded making the least sound or movement, for fear that the thing outside the French doors would be drawn by it. She was sure that the pitiful barrier of glass panes and thin wooden sashes would not deter it for an instant.
Suddenly, for no reason that the terrified woman could guess, the shape turned aside. She had the impression that it was going around the house, instead of moving straight toward her. The moment the tall, dark figure was out of sight, Emma leaped from her bed and ran to the hall door.
Just as her fingers circled the knob, however, she heard a blood-chilling scratch, scratch, scratch at the window. Turning, she saw a hideous brown face with flaming eyes glaring in at her. The thing rattled the French windows, which were securely locked on the inside. Emma was relieved to see that the flimsy-looking panels might keep it at bay. She tried to open the bedroom door to escape into the hall beyond, but the antique latch jammed, trapping her in the room.
The creature outside scratched again at the glass; then it began to peck with its nails at the sash. Emma saw that it was scraping out the lead that held the windowpanes in place. Again she tried to scream, but only a soft moan escaped her lips.
A single, diamond-shaped pane fell inward and shattered on the floor. A long, bony finger snaked through, found the catch on the window, and flicked it open. Emma lurched toward the bed, hoping to reach the closet beyond. But the creature burst into the room, grabbed her hair with its long fingers, and dragged her down so that her head hung over the side of the bed. Then it leaned over and bit her on the throat.
The sting released her voice, and
she at last began to scream aloud. As she struggled to push the awful face away from her, she heard her brothers shouting and banging on the door. At this, the monster suddenly fled from the room.
When Andrew and Gordon found the door would not budge, they slammed themselves against it, throwing it open by sheer force.
Inside they found their sister, bleeding from a wound in the throat and unconscious. Past the open French windows, nothing moved upon the moonlit lawn at first. Then Gordon cried, “I see him!” He pointed to a tall figure that fled from the shadows under a large oak. Without hesitation, he pursued it. But the monster moved twice as fast, with long, loping strides, and quickly leaped over the wall into the churchyard.
By the time Gordon had reached the fieldstone wall, he could see nothing beyond but gravestones and vaults. His quarry had vanished. Frustrated and angry, he returned to his sister’s room.
There he found that Emma had regained consciousness, while Andrew dabbed at her wound with a damp towel.
“We shall keep watch the rest of the night,” Andrew was saying. “In the morning, we will take the first train back to London.”
“Andrew! Here’s Gordon!” the young woman said. “Did you find out who—or what—attacked me?”
“No,” her brother confessed, “it escaped into the churchyard. But, whatever the devil it was, Andrew is right: We must leave here as quickly as possible.”
But Emma shook her head. “I will not let this experience drive us from the house where we have been so happy!”
Though her brothers tried to persuade her to leave, Emma refused. “We have leased this house for seven years,” she said, “and we have been here less than one. We cannot afford to move elsewhere, while paying rent on this place.”
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