My Date with a Wendigo

by Genevieve McCluer

  Shit.

  “I went out and bought dinner, so you’re lucky your timing is so good. It’s still hot.”

  We sit at her table with a bucket of steaming fried chicken between us. I grab a leg, and as I bite into it, I find myself imagining that it’s human. I savor the taste.

  Sandra watches me tear into the food. She doesn’t say a word, just picks at her own chicken as I savage mine, ripping it apart with my teeth.

  When I’m finally done, she hands me a mug of coffee. I consider eating her as well, but the chicken did fill me up. I’m not sure I have the stomach for more. “Thanks,” I murmur, finding my throat dry.

  Nodding shakily, she makes her way back to her seat, her own cup of coffee in hand. “Liz, please. I need to know what happened.”

  “It was nothing. Just a misunderstanding. I’ll clear it up tonight. It’ll be fine.”

  “Liz, you promised.”

  I sigh. I guess it’s not an issue if I end up eating her. “Abby’s a wendigo, we had sex, and she tried to eat me, and I ended up cutting her and running away. I can still remember that hurt look in her eyes when she came to, realizing what she’d done, and what I’d done. I can’t believe I just ran. I should’ve stayed.”

  “The hell you should’ve,” she shouts. “What are you even talking about? Abby tried to hurt you? You cut her? What happened?”

  “She couldn’t resist it anymore. She’s wanted to for so long, and she’s been holding back, and I taunted her, giving her food and insisting over and over that she eat. She gave in, and it was too much. She couldn’t stop.” I really am a monster. I didn’t understand. I didn’t listen. She made it clear she couldn’t eat anymore, and yet I tried to force it on her.

  “You egged her on? Liz, it’s not your fault. It’s never your fault when someone you love hurts you. You can’t blame yourself for her fucked-up behavior.”

  I find her grabbing my hand, and I pull away. “No, it is my fault. She didn’t want to hurt me. I made her.”

  She’s crying. Tears are streaming down her face, and I can hear her sobbing. “Liz, listen to me. You’re a therapist; you know better. Being abused is not your fault.”

  “She’s not abusive.” My voice is flat. Maybe it comes off as confident. Abby is as far from abusive as possible. She’s done nothing wrong.

  “That’s what they all say. Abby hurt you, really badly from the sound of it. I don’t understand the rest, but I know you need to stay away from her. Please, I’m worried about you. This is all my fault. I’m the one that made you call her. I’ve been wanting you two to get together since I’ve known you. How could she have changed so much? She never seemed the type.”

  “Thank you. I’m so glad you did. I don’t know what I would’ve done without her. She’s everything to me.”

  “Liz, will you listen to yourself?” Now she’s shaking me, her hands on my shoulders, her forearm so close to my mouth, I could bite it. “This is not okay. Maybe I should see about getting you to a hospital. We can cancel your appointments for the rest of the week. You need some time off. You need to be away from her. You need to recover, Liz. This is terrifying.”

  I stare. It takes a minute for her words to reach me. She wants to take me away from Abby. “No. I’m not going anywhere.”

  “Okay, no hospitals, but you’re staying here tonight. You can have my bed. I’ll take the couch.”

  I start to come back to myself. I need to have my wits about me. She can’t put me in a hospital. I won’t let her. There’s nothing wrong with me. “No. You take the bed. I don’t want to sleep in your gross straight-sex bed.” That sounds like me, right? “I’ll sleep on the couch. I’ll be fine.”

  She studies me. She wouldn’t be able to take me to the hospital if I ate her. Then I could finally be with Abby without fear. Why am I holding back? There’s no reason not to. Everything would be so much better. “Okay. Just promise that you’re not gonna do anything stupid. I’m so worried about you, Liz.”

  “Of course, Sand,” I offer, my smile as genuine as I can manage. “I would never. I’ll look after myself. I know what I have to do.”

  Finally releasing me, she pulls away, biting her lip as she nods. I wonder how it tastes. “Okay. Christ, I thought Abigail would be good for you. How did this happen?”

  I’m bad for her. That’s the only problem. I have to fix it. I have to fix me. This is the only way. “I’m gonna go to sleep now. I’m really tired.”

  She swallows, still watching me. It’s only seven, but I didn’t get any sleep last night, so it should be believable. “Okay. I’ll try to keep it down. You get some rest.”

  I fall asleep the second my head hits the pillow. I guess it wasn’t a lie. I am completely exhausted.

  * * *

  All my dreams are of Abigail. I wake up, terrified that I overslept. It’s almost midnight. I’m fine. I’m still wearing shoes, so I get ready to rush to the car only to find my keys missing. Damn it, Sandra. I scour the apartment, throwing open every door, checking under every surface, feeling the underside of the coffee table and dining table. She must have them on her.

  I sneak into her bedroom, opening the door without a sound. She didn’t lock it. Good. She’s not too paranoid, then. Just paranoid enough to steal my keys. So I wasn’t too unconvincing. I check the nightstand and find it empty. I don’t want to have to check her pockets. There’s no way she’d sleep through it. Fortunately, I find them in the drawer in the far nightstand. I snatch them and walk as quietly as I can out of the room and make my way down to my car. I actually feel the winter air this time. The wind has picked up and is tossing snow all over. It’s still early. There’s plenty of time.

  I drive carefully out to Etobicoke, parking in front of the once-abandoned mall. There are hardly any other cars here. I’m not sure where most of them park or if they even have cars, but it’s not like it matters. I beep the doors locked and head inside, passing through the façade to find the living, breathing world within. Lights and colors surround me. Crowds of every imaginable shape and form emerge to either side. I feel so much less crazy here. This is the world I belong in, and I’m going to make it permanent.

  I look around for familiar faces and don’t see any. It’s Wednesday night, so that makes sense. I browse the stalls, looking for anyone interesting. I don’t know if there are artifacts that could do what I seek, but I doubt I can find them on my own. Some of my research from earlier comes back. I remember why. I was trying to find out what can turn me. Ghouls are out, I’ve heard mixed things about wendigoag—apparently, that’s the actual plural—but I found a few creatures that could do it. I don’t know if any of them are real, except for vampires. I know exactly how it works for them. They may be rare, but I can find one. Even if not today, I know exactly where one will be on Monday.

  Nevertheless, I am still going to try. I can’t wait. I need to fix things. I know what I’m looking for, and while I continue to search the stalls, very little of my attention is on the merchandise; most of it is on the customers.

  I watch for anyone too human looking to fit in. Eventually, I approach a girl. She must be one. She looks perfectly human. “Hi,” I offer. I did not think this through.

  “Oh, hi.” Her voice is throaty, like an old jazz singer. It pulls me in.

  “Hi,” I say again, my goal slowly fading from my mind.

  “Hi.” She laughs, a beautiful smile taking over her features. “Do I know you?”

  “Unfortunately, I don’t think you do.” I take a step toward her. What was I looking for again?

  She lets out a low murmur, somewhere between amused and aroused. “A human, here? You look like you could be so much fun.”

  “Oh, I can be, I promise.”

  “Are you here as a guest?”

  That sounds familiar. What am I trying to think of? I know I was asked that before. “Yes.” That was the answer. Why?

  “Of whom?” The sultriness in her voice is amplified. She sounds almost hungry.


  Hungry. Right. I remember. “Abigail Lester. I’m her girlfriend.”

  She blinks, taking a nervous step back. “Oh.” She clears her throat, the sultriness all but gone. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  Is she scared of Abby? “Do you know Abby?”

  “Not well. Just that she’s a wendigo and could rip me apart for trying to seduce her girlfriend. I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean to at first. I didn’t know you were human, but when it worked, I couldn’t help myself.”

  I stare, not quite knowing what she’s talking about, only that she made me stop thinking about Abby for a few brief seconds. That thought makes me mad. No one should be able to take Abby from me.

  “I’m a siren. I can lure people in, make them desperate for me. I really did want to play with you. My apologies, you’re under the hospitality of this place. I’d rather not be thrown out, so you’ll have to look elsewhere if you’re after some fun,” she says hurriedly, her voice higher, more awkward. It’s like she’s actively working to be less attractive. I suppose she is.

  “Wait.” I’m myself again, maybe even more than when I entered, but I still have a mission. It’s the only way I can be with Abby.

  “What?” She eyes me, looking suspicious and confused.

  “Do you know any vampires? Ones that might be here.”

  She shakes her head and backs up again. “I don’t know what trouble you’re after, but I’m going to stay out of it. Tell Abigail that Caris sends her regards and bears her no ill will.”

  She runs, actually runs, shoving her way through the crowd to find anyplace else to be. What the hell was that about? I hope whatever vampire I find doesn’t react the same way. Maybe Dennis really is my best option. I wonder if he’s here.

  I stop to grab a cupcake and shove it in my face to make myself feel better, and I don’t even pretend that it’s a person. I could try to eat a person scone again, but I’m not sure it’d work. When I was researching, it said that it had to be in a time of famine, and I’m not even all that hungry. What if I had eaten Sandra? Would I have killed my best friend for nothing?

  I guess that siren breaking her spell broke whatever trance I was in. Time seems to be moving normally now. I’m not blacking out. I wonder if I could get her to help my dissociative clients.

  At least the cupcake is delicious. It’s the first thing I’ve actually tasted all day.

  “You look like you’ve had a rough day,” one of the satyrs says. “Need another one?”

  I shake my head.

  “All right. Oh, how did Abby like her scone? Did you manage to get her to eat it?”

  Tears fill my eyes as I nod. “It didn’t go as planned,” I manage, my voice breaking.

  “I’m sorry, honey.” He rests a surprisingly human hand on my shoulder. “I know it would hurt my sales, but you need to listen to her. She doesn’t want to eat people anymore.”

  I brush his hand aside. She clearly does. That’s the issue. “You sell blood-filled doughnuts.” I point at the display next to the human scones. “Has anyone bought any today?” I know exactly what Abby would say if I listened to her, and it’s just not enough. I can’t keep forcing her to make so many sacrifices for me. It’s so hard for her. I can give up this one thing, my humanity, so that we can be happy together.

  His woolly eyebrows knit together as he looks me up and down. “Why do you ask?”

  “It’s for Abby. Please. I promise, I won’t try to feed her any more scones.”

  His hoof stomps once on the ground. “Okay. I guess I can tell you. That guy over there just bought four of them.” He points at a black-haired man looking through a collection of old books at another table. “Before you even think about it, don’t. Abby wouldn’t want you to change.”

  I’m really not subtle, am I? “Thank you.” I chase the vampire, ignoring the clerk’s warning. It’s the only way she and I can be together. I have to do it. I tap him on the shoulder, and he turns.

  I never would have guessed he was a vampire. He looks barely any paler than me, and he’s wearing a perfectly ordinary T-shirt and jeans. He doesn’t even have a widow’s peak. “Yes?” No accent either. Not like Dennis has any of those things either. Am I being racist?

  “Hi. My name’s Elizabeth Rosseau, I’m looking to be a therapist here, and I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions about what sort of needs your people might have. You’re a vampire, right?” I hadn’t even planned that. It just rolled off my tongue. I had only thought up to the “hi.”

  “I am.” He inhales sharply. “You’re human. What exactly are you doing here?”

  “Like I said, I’m looking to be a therapist. Could I borrow you for a few minutes? I’d just like to talk outside.” The rules wouldn’t apply there, right? He won’t be violating hospitality if he bites me. Even if he tries to kill me, it’s worth the risk. I have my dagger. I’ll cut him and drink his blood if I have to. He’ll never see that coming.

  He hesitates for a moment but eventually holds up his index finger, signaling for me to wait. “All right, you have my curiosity piqued, ma’am. Just let me pay for my books, and I’ll accompany you.”

  I lead him outside without an issue, promptly finding a secluded spot where no one will see a thing, and I enact my plan.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Abigail

  I walk into group with my head hanging low. I can’t believe I’m going to have to tell them. I can’t believe I did this. When everyone is seated, I stand. “I really need to talk. I know I used up a bunch of time the last two weeks, but something really bad happened last night.”

  Ben, composed as ever, nods, his eyes radiating warmth. “Of course, Abby. What happened?”

  “Let me start by saying I did not eat Liz; she’s okay. But I did eat the scone she bought me. I tasted human for the first time in years, and I needed more.” I wipe tears from my eyes. The previous night replays. I hate myself. “I was so hungry that I could only see her as food. I’d bought her a silver dagger for if something like this happened, and she used it on me. She ran away. I think we’re over. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Do you want to eat right now?” he asks.

  I shake my head. Food is the farthest thing from my mind for the first time in six years. “No. I don’t. At all. I just want to show her how sorry I am, to hold her again, to have her back. I just want to still have her in my life, even if we can’t be together anymore. She means everything to me.” Tears stream down my face, and I let out a high-pitched whimper that could almost crack glass. “I’m so scared.”

  “That’s interesting,” James muses. Asshole. “So you’re not hungry?”

  With a heaving shrug, I turn to him. “I don’t know. I can’t even feel it right now. It’s like the hollow pit inside me has been devoured by heartache.”

  Ashley pulls my arm to her, resting her head against it. “I’m so sorry, Abby. I smelled that scone in her bag. I knew it was a bad idea. I should’ve talked to her.”

  “It’s not your fault. I knew it was there too.”

  “So you were around already-dead human meat that was bought as a gift for you, and you weren’t eating it?” James seems so focused on this.

  Why does it even matter? Nothing matters anymore. “No, I wasn’t. I only ate it because she said if I didn’t, she would.”

  A collective gasp goes through the room. “Why would she do that?” Robert asks. “She’s a human. It’s not like it would taste good.”

  Sighing, I gulp back another sob and clear my throat. “She thought it’d make her a wendigo. I don’t think it would’ve, but I couldn’t take that risk. I wouldn’t change her for the world, no matter how much easier it’d make things for me.”

  James pats my shoulder. “I’m sorry, Abby.”

  “That’s so beautiful.” Ashley wipes her tears on my forearm.

  “That’s really impressive,” Ben says. “Even now, you still have that much restraint.”

  “It’s
easy to say it when I see what it cost me. I gave in to the hunger for maybe a minute, and it lost me the only thing I’ve ever wanted. Nothing is worth that. I already didn’t want to eat anymore, but now just the thought of it makes me see that terrified look in her eyes again. I thought about eating more once she left. I thought about hunting someone down or buying a corpse, but I couldn’t do it. The idea makes me as sick as eating anything else would.”

  “Huh.” Ashley looks up from my arm. “I can’t even imagine. The last time I fell off the wagon, I ate for days. You had a bite and don’t want more?”

  “Maybe it won’t last, but I can’t imagine eating anyone now.”

  Ben stands and crosses the few feet to me, his small green hand patting my massive black-furred one. “This is amazing. You’ve actually conditioned yourself to associate human meat with something so negative. Don’t get so cocky that you think you don’t have cravings anymore, but this is an amazing sign. I’m just sorry it came at such a high price.”

  I nod. That price was far too high.

  Kara weeps a few feet away. “That’s true love,” she sobs, wiping at seal-eyes with a flipper. She is not going to make the mistake of taking her pelt off again.

  “That’s all I wanted to say. I just needed to get it off my chest. It happened last night, and I’ve been going crazy since. I think I cried for so long that there might not be any deer to hunt around my cabin for a long while. I could hear them all scurrying off.” I let out a pained chuckle. “Not like it matters. I don’t have anything to spend money on now anyway.” What have I even been saving for? I just earn money because that’s what you do. I pay my phone bill, occasionally buy gas for my generator, and that’s it. I buy the odd luxury, but what do I really need? I guess I’ll just spend a lonely eternity in my cabin now that I have no one to share it with. “Thanks. All of you.” I wipe at my eyes as the tears continue falling. I’m lost without her.

  “Huh, kinda reminds me of my therapist,” a new guy muses. “You said she wanted to become a wendigo? My therapist was asking about how to become a vampire. It had just happened to me, so I guess it wasn’t an unreasonable question, but she seemed really into it.”