Tracks in the Snow

Once upon a time, there were two brothers named Robert and Eli Smith. They lived deep in the woods, far from any town or settlements. They had built a small cabin, nestled among the trees, where they resided. They had lived there since their parents had died many years before. 

The year was 1841, and winter was beginning to fall over the forest. Snow was starting to stick to the cold, hard ground, and Robert spent most of his time chopping firewood. Eli often hunted squirrels and other small game for dinner, using the hunting rifle their father had previously owned. 

One morning, when Robert went outside in the early light to get more wood for the fire, he noticed the forest was very still and quiet. This was not entirely unusual, given that it was cold, and early in the day, but usually, there was some sort of sound of animals scuffling through the undergrowth, woodpeckers in the trees, or simply snow falling from the branches of trees onto the ground. Today, Robert heard nothing. 

He went inside and awoke Eli, hoping to find out what was going on. Perhaps a storm was approaching, and they needed to reinforce the house and the firewood.

He brought Eli outside, and Eli stood on the stoop, listening intently.

“I hear nothing,” he remarked, bemused. 

Robert nodded. “Something strange is going on,” he muttered.

The trees did not sway in the wind, and the air felt menacingly still. It felt as though the whole forest had gone silent, frozen. It did not feel muffled, like it often did when snow blanketed the ground, but rather, muted. Robert felt as though a large predator stood not far from the treeline, and all the animals had run and hid. 

“Do we have enough food to get us through the next few days?” Robert asked abruptly. “Aside from the stores in the cellar?”

Eli shrugged. “I think I’ve got a few things set aside. I haven’t caught anything big in a while, though.”

Robert was uneasy. “I don’t know what it is, but I feel that we need to prepare,” he said. “We’d best go out today and see if we have anything in the traps. Take the rifle too, and hope we can find something bigger than a squirrel.”

Eli nodded. They retreated back indoors, and dressed for the day ahead. They made coffee and ate the last scraps of jerky they had from their last venture to a trading post.

“Let’s check the traps by the stream first,” Robert decided. 

They headed out, their breath visible in the brisk morning air. 

Eli held the hunting rifle at his side, and Robert carried a sack over his shoulder, should they find any catches. 

They reached the stream in no time, their boots making small prints in the thin layer of snow that had fallen the night before. The stream was not yet frozen this time of year, and it gurgled peacefully. Robert felt more at ease when he heard the sound. At least something was making noise. 

The trap was empty. Robert hadn’t gotten his hopes up, but he did wish they had caught something. 

They moved on, deeper into the woods, checking their traps along the way. They had several, but all of them were empty. 

Eli sighed. “Well, it’s not often we catch anything this time of year,” he said. He was trying to remain positive, but Robert remembered they had caught a beaver and a few rabbits last year. He didn’t bring it up. What was the point?

“Let’s see if we can find anything we can get with the rifle,” Eli suggested. 

Robert nodded. The headed back through the trees, treading lighter this time, so as not to alert any potential food of their presence. 

They saw no animals. Not even a mouse. Robert had been hoping to see a deer, though he knew it was unlikely. 

After several hours, Eli huffed, “Well, no luck today.”

Robert frowned. “It’s strange,” he said, for the second time that day. 

Eli didn’t reply. He fiddled with the rifle absently, biting his lip. 

Robert clapped him on the back. “It’s no worries, I’m sure,” he said, in a lighter tone. “Let’s head back for now. I’m sure we’ll get something soon.”

Eli nodded. 

They began to head back to their cabin. They didn’t speak to each other. Perhaps it was out of habit, of hunting, but Robert couldn’t help but feel the whole situation was a bad omen. They weren’t speaking because they were frightened. 

When they reached the cabin, and went inside, they both breathed a sigh of relief, as though they had been holding their breaths the whole way home. 

Robert set down the empty sack, and Eli leaned the rifle against the table. 

“I’m sure it’s just a bit of a barren winter,” Robert said. “We’ve got some preserves set aside for that reason. It’ll all work out.”

Eli nodded, but Robert could tell his feigned confidence wasn’t working to lift his spirits. They both knew that their stock was significantly smaller this year. They hadn’t managed to catch as much to prepare for winter as they should have. Robert supposed that he’d always assumed they could catch things, no matter what. They’d never had a problem the previous years. This year, Robert doubted they’d last more than a month on the meager supply they had packed away in the root cellar. 

“What do you think it is?” Eli asked, looking troubled. “I’ve never seen the forest so empty.”

Robert shook his head. “I can’t say,” he said. “But perhaps a few people have set up camp nearby. Maybe they’ve caught the game for today.” It was a feeble excuse, Robert knew that. They rarely crossed paths with others out here, and even if there were others, he would think that would make the forest louder, not quieter.

They spent the rest of the day indoors, leaving only to fetch water from the well and firewood. 

The next day, they set out to check the traps again.

Neither of them had high hopes, and once again, the traps were empty. 

As they began to dejectedly head back to the cabin, Eli stopped abruptly.

“What’s the matter?” Robert whispered.

Eli frowned. He was staring at the ground. 

“Strange tracks,” was all he said. 

Robert hastened to his side to see what he spoke of.

He saw Eli’s boot tracks in the thin snow, and his own. He was about to tell Eli he didn’t see anything, when he noticed it. 

He would have shrugged it off as a strange marking from water, or snow falling, or perhaps a small animal. But there were several, leading farther away, deeper into the woods. 

It looked similar to a deer’s hoof, but Robert had never seen prints quite like these before. He and Eli crouched down to examine them closer.

It did indeed look like a hoof of some sort, but the paces were far from each other, each nearly five feet apart, and clearly, it was only a set of two. Whatever it was had a long stride. No snow was kicked up like it would be if the creature had been running. If it had been a deer, even a deer running, Robert was sure he would be able to see the other two hoofprints. 

“What the hell is that?” Eli grumbled.

“A deer?” Robert suggested, even though he had just justified to himself that it couldn’t have been a deer.

“Well, maybe we should track it,” Eli said. “A whole deer would be just what we need right now.”

Despite the odd marks, Robert knew he was right. A deer would keep them fed for a long time, plus give them skins for clothing. It would be stupid to ignore the opportunity.

“Let’s see where they lead,” Eli said.

Robert nodded. “Let’s go,” he said. He put his arm out, gesturing for Eli to begin. Eli had always been the superior hunter, even though he was younger than Robert.

Eli followed the tracks, Robert in his wake. The tracks were fairly easy to see and follow, in spite of being far apart, as the snow hadn’t been disturbed by anything else. 

As Robert followed Eli, he felt a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. He brushed it off. He was probably just hungry.

They followed the tracks for what felt like hours. They weaved in between the trees, and seemed to go on forever. 

It was nearing dusk when Robert suggested they return home. 

“And lose the trail?” Eli looked frustrated. “This is the only sign of an animal we’ve seen.”

Robert wanted to protest, but he knew they did need food. So they continued.

Eli held his rifle at the ready, in case they caught the deer by surprise. 

The sky was growing darker by the minute.

“We need to turn back,” Robert said firmly. “It’s a long way home, and we’ve had no luck. We can check tomorrow.”

Eli shook his head. “We must be getting close,” he insisted.

Robert felt sicker now, but he pushed it away. “Eli, if it gets dark, it’ll be no use,” he said. He tried to sound casual, but he worried his worry showed in his voice. “We won’t find anything in the dark.”

Eli sighed. “Fine, but we’ll go out first thing,” he said firmly.

“Alright,” Robert agreed. 

They turned back, and followed their tracks back home. It was completely dark by the time they reached the cabin, but luckily, they knew the woods well. 

They retired for the night, and Robert slept uneasily. He dreamt of the tracks, and of a small cave deep in the woods. He awoke in the morning with his feeling of dread persisting. 

When he sat up in bed, he realized Eli was not there. He quickly jumped out of bed and hastened to the main room, hoping to find him eating breakfast. He was not there, and the hunting rifle was noticeably missing. 

Robert sighed. Eli had gone out alone. This was not the first time Eli had gone hunting alone, in fact, he often did it alone. But Robert still felt anxious. He still didn’t feel right about the markings they had followed the day before, and he hoped Eli wouldn’t stay out too late again. 

Instead of following him, which Robert supposed was a moot point, he spent the day chopping more wood, gathering water from the well, and washing the few articles of clothing they had. 

While he worked outside, Robert watched the forest in his peripheral vision. He never looked directly at it, as though if he pretended he wasn’t watching, the forest would reveal something to him. It was still very silent and still. 

When the sky began to darken, and Eli still hadn’t returned, Robert began to worry. The knot that had formed in his stomach the day before twisted, and Robert felt ill with fear again.  

He considered going to look for Eli, but he wondered what use that was if he didn’t have a weapon. Though it was winter, running into a bear or a cougar was not out of the question. Eli has the rifle, he reminded himself. He will be just fine. 

But twilight came and went, and the sky became pitch black, and Eli still had not returned. 

Robert sat at the kitchen table, drumming his fingers on the wood, wondering what to do. Perhaps Eli had just gotten caught up in the hunt again. He would surely be back soon. 

Snow had begun to fall in earnest outside, and Robert worried Eli would be stuck in the storm, and unable to find his way home. 

It was almost midnight, and Robert was beginning to nod off at the table, when he heard a commotion outside the door. 

He jumped out of his chair and opened the door. Eli stood there, rifle in hand. He looked disheveled. 

Robert didn’t take notice of any finer details, he was simply happy to have his brother home. If he had been paying attention, he would have noticed that Eli’s usually light blue eyes were black.

When he ushered him inside, Eli stumbled slightly. Robert supposed it was from the cold. 

“What took so long?” he asked, almost angrily.

Eli shook his head. He dropped the rifle by the door, and slumped down into one of the kitchen chairs. 

“Are you alright?” Robert asked, more concerned this time.

“Alright,” Eli said, his voice raspy. 

Robert’s stomach twisted again. He had been relieved, but now the relief was replaced with more feelings of tension. “What happened? Did you find the deer?” Robert asked. He could feel his throat was tight. 

Eli shook his head. 

“Are you hungry?” Robert asked.

Eli shook his head again.

“Tired? You must be tired,” Robert insisted. 

Eli nodded. “Tired,” he repeated.

Robert frowned. Something was not right, every nerve in his body seemed to shout.

“Let’s get you to bed, then,” Robert said. 

He guided Eli to the bedroom, and helped him lay down. What was wrong with him? He wondered. 

Eli flopped down on his cot, and seemed to fall asleep almost immediately.

Robert tried to shake off any odd feelings. This was his brother, after all. He was probably just very tired from being out all day. Hunting could be exhausting, after all, and if Eli had followed the prints deep into the forest, he was justified in being tired.

Robert shivered at the thought of the prints. 

He went back into the kitchen, and saw the fire was dying down. He went to retrieve some wood from near the fireplace, but saw that the pile was empty. 

He sighed. He’d have to go to the pile outside. He tossed on his coat, and opened the front door. 

The candlelight from the kitchen was dim, but it was enough to illuminate the snow outside, and enough for him to see where he was going. 

He was not three paces from the front door when he noticed something strange. There were no boot marks from Eli’s return. He didn’t think it could have snowed enough in those few minutes for it to have been covered up. 

He examined the snow closer, and his stomach turned. Strange, far-apart hoofprints dotted the snow.

He could see a neat line of the very same tracks they had followed the day before. The trail began in the dark, beyond where the candlelight rached, probably far back into the forest, and led right up to his front door. 

Robert was tense with fear. His hands shook. He turned back to look at the cabin. 

He could see something standing in the bedroom, silhouetted by the dim candlelight. Robert couldn’t be sure what it was, but he knew it was not his brother. It was too…tall.

Robert’s heart pounded in his chest. He stood there in the snow, wringing his hands, unsure of what to do. 

The rifle was right by the front door. Could he run for it and reach it before the creature did?

That was his only choice.

Robert bolted for the door, and he saw the silhouette move with him. 

He burst into the house, and grabbed the rifle quickly. 

He raised it to his shoulder, ready to aim and fire, as the creature came into the room. 

It stood tall, its head nearly touching the roof of the cabin. Its face was Eli’s, but oddly distorted in some way. Robert noticed its black eyes this time. 

He cocked the rifle and fired a shot, hitting the thing in the shoulder. It seemed relatively unfazed. 

Robert backed up, hastily recocking the weapon.

The creature approached him swiftly, with long strides. Robert saw that it had large, cloven hoofs. 

Robert stumbled over the threshold of the front door, and fell backwards into the snow. 

He scrambled backwards away from the thing, on his back, hurrying to take aim again. 

It was very fast, but Robert pulled the trigger faster. 

He hit it in the forehead this time. 

It let out a horrifying, inhuman scream. Robert could see it no longer bore any resemblance to his brother. 

The creature leapt away from him, and bolted into the woods. Robert attempted to shoot it again, but was unsuccessful. It moved too swiftly.

He stood up, still gripping the rifle.

He hurried back inside, and shut the door firmly behind him. 

What now?

Robert shivered. The fire was dying down, but he refused to go back outside. Whatever that thing was, he wasn’t in a hurry to meet it again. 

He sat back down at the kitchen table, still shaking, the rifle still in his hands. 

His brother was gone, and that creature was still out there.