Chapter 6
By October, a thin layer of snow had already accumulated in Colorado Forest. The pines outside the car windows wore coats of white frost, and the wind moaned through their branches like someone crying deep in the woods. Bai Haorui zipped his outdoor jacket all the way up, but the cold still seeped into his bones. He took out his hand warmer, its glowing charcoal wrapped in fleece, and his cold, stiff palms immediately warmed up.
"That thing of yours is such a hassle. You even have to burn charcoal." Dean glanced at the hand warmer and turned the heater up to full blast, holding John's note between his fingers. "Colorado, Lost Creek, missing hunters, Wendigo." His fingertip passed over the word "Wendigo," and he frowned. "Dad's last GPS location was around here. You know what happened at Blackwater Ridge last time. He never passes up anything like this."
At that, Sam immediately opened his laptop and searched Google. Before long, information about Algonquin legends appeared on the screen. "Originally human, transformed into a monster after eating human flesh during a famine. Fast, strong. Ordinary fire can only drive it back, not kill it." He paused and looked at Bai Haorui. "Was there anything similar in your grandfather's notes?"
Bai Haorui leaned over and looked at the Wendigo's emaciated body on the screen. Its bark-like skin made him uncomfortable. "No, Grandpa never encountered anything like this. But there's a story in his notes about a ghoul back where we're from. Let me take a look." (The mountain behind Qingping Village in Western Hunan had become a mass graveyard after the previous year's severe drought left starvation victims everywhere. Graves piled one upon another, without even a decent headstone. Only wild dogs dug through the earth for food at night, their howls carrying across half the village. Old Zhou, the gravekeeper, lived in a ramshackle house at the foot of the mountain and always kept a hurricane lantern lit at night. He said it warded off evil, but everyone knew it was just to bolster his courage.
The first rain of autumn lasted three days, its chilly drizzle seeping into the gaps between people's bones. Barking woke Old Zhou in the middle of the night. He threw on a thin shirt and ran toward the mountain, afraid the wild dogs were digging up the graves again. His lantern swayed wildly in the rain. He had barely reached the edge of the graveyard when he froze. The earth around the new graves at the very back had been churned into a mess. The lid of a thin wooden coffin lay crookedly beside it. The coffin was empty, with only a few white bones scattered in the wet mud, scraps of bloody flesh still clinging to them.
"What a sin!" Trembling, Old Zhou took out his tobacco pouch. He had just struck a match when he heard sobbing behind him. The voice sounded like a woman, yet also like a child, cloying and wrapped in damp rain, as though pressed against his ear. He whipped around. His lantern illuminated nothing but an old, crooked locust tree. Tattered strips of cloth hanging from its branches swayed in the wind like a dangling hand.
But the crying continued, this time from behind the graves. Gritting his teeth, Old Zhou raised his lantern and approached. He had just rounded the third grave mound when he saw a dark figure crouching on the ground, gnawing on something. It was frighteningly tall, its loose hair hanging down to its knees and hiding its face. Its fingers were long and thin, its nails blue-black, and it was tearing downward from a corpse's chest. It was Butcher Zhang, who had been buried only two days earlier. His belly had been ripped open, his organs scattered across the ground.
Old Zhou's lantern hit the ground with a clang. Oil spilled everywhere, and flames sprang up, only to be extinguished by the rain. The dark figure abruptly raised its head, revealing half a face between its long strands of hair. It had no nose, only two dark holes. Its mouth split all the way to its ears, and a piece of bloody flesh hung between its sharp teeth. A ghost! Old Zhou barely managed half a cry for help before the figure lunged and pinned him down. He felt something pierce his neck, warm blood running down his collar. The last things he saw were the ghoul's rolled-back white eyes and the greed within them.
The next morning, the villagers discovered Old Zhou's body. His throat had been torn open, and a chunk of flesh was missing from his chest. Beside him, Butcher Zhang's grave had been dug up, and his corpse was nowhere to be found. The village erupted. Some wanted to summon a Daoist priest, while others wanted to move to town. But most of them were elderly people and children, all from poor families. How could they afford to move? Auntie Wang, who lived at the entrance to the village, cried the hardest. Her little grandson Goudan had developed a fever a few days earlier and still had not recovered. Now that this had happened, she was even more afraid.
That evening, a Daoist priest arrived wearing blue cloth robes, a cloth bag on his back and a peachwood sword in his hand. He introduced himself as Qingxu, a wandering priest who had heard there was an evil presence in the village and had come to investigate. The village chief was skeptical, but seeing the priest's composed manner, he led him into the village anyway.
Qingxu first went to the mountain behind the village. He crouched where Old Zhou had died, examined the spot, then touched the claw marks on the ground and frowned. "A ghoul. Judging by the size of these claw marks, it's at least nine chi tall. It probably transformed from someone who starved to death during last year's famine. After absorbing earth qi for half a year, it's become powerful." He took cinnabar powder from his bag and sprinkled it around the graves. "It'll come again tonight. We'll set a trap."
The villagers got to work with Qingxu. They set up a table on the grain-drying ground in the middle of the village, placing an image of the Three Pure Ones upon it. Three sticks of incense stood in an incense burner, with glutinous rice and mugwort piled beside it. Qingxu also told every household to hang a lantern soaked in cinnabar water outside its door, saying it would keep evil away. Auntie Wang held Goudan tightly against her chest, shielding him in her arms. Feverish, Goudan murmured, "Mama, someone's calling me..."
During the hai hour that night, the rain stopped. The moon hid behind the clouds, and the village was so quiet that people could hear their own heartbeats. Suddenly, a scream came from the eastern end of the village, followed by the sound of a lantern breaking. Qingxu sprang to his feet and grabbed his peachwood sword. "It's here!"
Everyone followed Qingxu toward the eastern end of the village. As they neared Auntie Wang's house, they saw a dark figure carrying something toward the mountain. It was Goudan! The figure was the ghoul, its long hair floating through the night, its claws locked around Goudan's clothes. Goudan was too frightened to make a sound, his little face deathly pale.
"Put the child down!" Qingxu roared. He grabbed a handful of glutinous rice from his bag and threw it at the ghoul. The rice struck its back and instantly shone white. It let out a piercing scream and loosened its grip, dropping Goudan to the ground. Auntie Wang rushed over, picked up the child, and scrambled back.
The ghoul turned, fixed its white eyes on Qingxu, and lunged. Qingxu was ready. He took a paper packet from his bag, containing cinnabar powder mixed with sulfur, and scattered it into the ghoul's face before throwing a lit fire starter at it. With a whoosh, flames ignited around the cinnabar. This was pure yang fire, the thing the ghoul feared most.
Engulfed in fire, the ghoul rolled around on the ground, shrieking and trying to lunge at people. But with every step it took closer, the flames burned fiercer. Qingxu raised his peachwood sword, a yellow talisman attached to its blade, and chanted, "By the urgent command of Taishang Laojun, demons and monsters, disperse at once!" Then he leaped into the air and thrust his peachwood sword straight into the ghoul's chest.
"Aaargh!" The ghoul suddenly let out a terrible scream. Smoke rose from its body, and it quickly shriveled into a heap of black ash that scattered in the wind. Qingxu put away his peachwood sword and scattered a ring of mugwort ash around the village, saying it would cleanse the evil qi.
The next day, the villagers tidied up the mass graveyard on the mountain, placing a wooden marker at every grave. They also asked Qingxu to draw talismans, which they pasted at the village entrance and the path leading up the mountain. Auntie Wang's Goudan recovered from his fever and never again said anyone was calling him.
Before leaving, Qingxu told the village chief, "This ghoul formed because corpses were left exposed, allowing resentment to accumulate over time. From now on, whenever someone dies, make sure you bury them deep. Put cinnabar and mugwort in the coffin. Don't give evil things a chance to come out and hurt people." The village chief nodded and led the villagers a long way to see Qingxu off. Only when the priest disappeared at the end of the mountain path did they slowly head back.
While Bai Haorui was looking down at the notes, the car stopped at the campsite, where yellow police tape stood out starkly against the snow. A man in a police uniform was smoking. Seeing them approach, he immediately stopped them. "Restricted area. No unauthorized entry." Dean flashed his fake credentials. "Federal Bureau of Investigation. We're investigating the missing hunters." The officer examined the credentials for a long time before handing them back, his tone grave. "Three hunters are gone. The last missing man's companion said he saw something 'human, but not human' drag him into the forest. We searched for two days and only found bloody claw prints. Bigger than an adult's palm."
The three crossed the police tape. The claw prints in the snow were frighteningly clear, the fingertip marks gouged deep into the frozen earth. Bai Haorui's Five Emperor Coins grew even colder. Tightening his grip on his peachwood sword, he took an oilpaper packet of aged glutinous rice from his backpack. "It isn't far away. The rice can hold it off for a moment." Dean and Sam tightened their grips on their weapons as well-Dean on his silver knife, Sam on her hunting gun loaded with silver bullets. They walked deeper through the snow, each crunch beneath their feet seeming to land on their heartbeats.
After about half an hour, a sharp crack of breaking branches suddenly came from ahead, followed by a piercing howl like a cold wind scraping across sheet metal. Before Bai Haorui could react, a dark figure lunged from a tree at Dean. It was the Wendigo! Grayish-brown skin covered its emaciated body. Its blood-red eyes fixed on the three of them, frozen streaks of blood still hanging from its fangs.
"Watch out!" Bai Haorui grabbed a handful of glutinous rice and hurled it at the Wendigo's eyes. The rice flashed white the instant it struck the monster's face. The Wendigo screamed, black fluid running from the corners of its eyes as its aim momentarily faltered. Dean seized the chance to retreat, but its claws still slashed his arm. Blood seeped through the tear in his jacket, trailing red across the snow. "Damn it!" He swung his knife at the monster, but the silver blade left only a shallow mark on its skin. "Ordinary weapons don't work!"
"Run for the logging cabin!" Bai Haorui pulled Dean diagonally ahead. He had seen the abandoned cabin when they entered the forest. Though its doors and windows were damaged, it would certainly be easier to defend than the open snowfield. Sam followed close behind. As he ran across a clearing, he suddenly stopped. "Look at that!"
A hiking backpack lay in the snow, its contents rummaged into a mess, half a journal sticking out. Bai Haorui picked up the journal. The handwriting on the last page was scrawled: "Heard someone calling my name. Not Tom. Like another me..." "Tom?" Dean had barely spoken when a faint female voice came from the distance. "Help... somebody help me!"
A young man in an outdoor jacket suddenly rushed out from behind a tree. It was Tom, the older brother of Haley, the latest person to disappear. He had come with two friends to search for his sister. "That's Haley's voice!" Tom tried to rush forward, but Dean grabbed him. "It's the Wendigo's trap! It mimics human voices to lure in prey!" But Tom refused to listen. He broke free and ran ahead like a madman, his two friends hurrying after him in a panic.
"We can't let them run to their deaths!" Sam immediately gave chase. Bai Haorui and Dean exchanged a look and quickly followed. They had not gone far when the sight beneath a large tree stopped everyone cold. A frozen corpse hung from the trunk, a huge hole in its chest and its heart missing. The ragged wound looked as though claws had torn it open by force. Tom's friend went pale and said in a trembling voice, "Let's go back. This isn't something humans can handle..."
Before he finished, the Wendigo's howl sounded behind them again. Bai Haorui pushed everyone toward the logging cabin. "Get inside! Fire can hold it off for a while!" They rushed into the cabin. Dean immediately nailed boards across the broken door, while Sam found a pile of dry branches and built a fire in the fireplace. As the flames rose, the howling outside noticeably receded. Bai Haorui took out some mugwort and stuffed a handful into the gaps around each door and window. "Mugwort drives away yin. It'll keep it from breaking in for now."
Tom crouched in a corner, staring at Haley's backpack with reddened eyes. "My sister must still be alive. It hides people away and 'eats' them slowly, right?" Dean nodded, leaning beside the fireplace as he bandaged his arm. "Wendigos don't kill all their prey at once. They keep some as stored food." Sam flipped through John's notes, then suddenly looked up. "Dad wrote that ordinary flames can only drive it back. It takes 'pure yang fire' to kill it-like fire mixed with something rich in yang qi."
"Pure yang fire..." Bai Haorui suddenly remembered the cinnabar in the story. "I have cinnabar powder. It's a pure yang substance. Mixed into a Molotov cocktail, it should make 'cinnabar fire.'" Dean's eyes lit up. He immediately pulled three Molotov cocktails from his backpack. "Should've brought more." Bai Haorui carefully opened his red cloth bundle and sprinkled the dark red cinnabar powder into the alcohol. The liquid instantly gave off a faint red glow, like blood tempered in fire.
Just then, the cabin door was suddenly smashed open. A blast of cold air swept in with snowflakes, and the fire crackled, its flames instantly shrinking by half. The Wendigo stood in the doorway, its bloody eyes sweeping over everyone, its sharp claws gouging deep marks in the ground. Tom collapsed to the floor in terror. Dean immediately raised his gun and fired, but the bullets bounced off the monster. "It's no use! Use the cinnabar fire!"
Bai Haorui grabbed a bottle of cinnabar fire and hurled it. As the flames burst, red light engulfed the Wendigo. It gave a shrill scream, its skin sizzling as it burned, the once-tough hide beginning to peel away. "It's afraid of cinnabar!" Sam threw another fire bottle. The Wendigo staggered backward, and Bai Haorui seized the opening to draw his peachwood sword and dip it in the cinnabar fire in the fireplace. The blade instantly turned red all over. "Dean, keep it occupied!"
Dean understood. He picked up the axe from the floor, set its blade alight in the fire, and swung at the Wendigo's legs. Enraged by the blow, the monster lashed its claws at Dean. Sam immediately smashed the butt of her hunting gun into its head. The instant the Wendigo lost its balance, Bai Haorui leaped up and drove his peachwood sword straight into its heart. Cinnabar fire surged along the blade into the monster's body. Flames instantly engulfed the Wendigo, and after struggling for a few seconds, it turned to black ash that the wind blew out of the cabin.
Everyone leaned beside the fireplace, panting. Looking at the cinnabar left on his peachwood sword, Bai Haorui suddenly remembered something. "Does this cabin have a basement? The Wendigo might have hidden people down there." Tom immediately stood. "I saw some stairs earlier!" The four descended the dim staircase. Sure enough, Haley was huddled in a corner of the basement, her face deathly pale, but still alive.
While rescuing Haley, Bai Haorui accidentally dropped his phone. The instant its flash lit up, he glimpsed a symbol on the basement wall-strange patterns carved inside an inverted pentagram, identical to the symbol at the site of the car crash that killed his original body's parents. "Look at this." He picked up his phone and took a picture. When the flash lit up again, the symbol gave off a faint black glow that vanished in an instant.
Sam leaned closer, her expression grave as she examined the photo. "This is the 'Anchor Point Symbol' in Dad's notes. He said it's a mark demons use to identify 'weak points in the World Barrier.'" Dean touched the wall, his knuckles white. "Looks like this Wendigo didn't appear here by chance. Someone deliberately released it to hide this symbol."
A system notification suddenly sounded in Bai Haorui's mind:
["Anchor Point Symbol" detected. Energy fluctuation match with the Yellow-Eyed Demon: 90%.] [Notice: Anchor points are the key to demons breaching the "World Barrier." Two anchor points have currently been discovered. Locate the others as soon as possible to prevent an invasion.]
"There was a symbol like this at the crash site where my original body's parents died, too." Bai Haorui tightened his grip on his phone, a chill rising from the bottom of his heart. "Fuck, do we have to face Yellow Eyes this early?" Dean patted his shoulder. "Whatever the Yellow-Eyed Demon wants, we'll find him." Sam took out her phone and called Jessica, keeping her voice as light as she could. "I might be back a little late. Something's come up with my family."
When the four left the cabin, the moon hung above the forest, cold as a silver platter. Carrying Haley in his arms, Tom headed toward town and called back, "Thank you!" Dean waved, then turned to Sam and Bai Haorui. "Dad's next lead is near Stanford. We need to head back."
Bai Haorui glanced back at the logging cabin. Although he had fought these things twice now, he still felt a little...