For quite a while I have been trying to figure out the name of the cannibalistic beast. It seems to me that most of the legends and folklores are forgotten. And now first nation legends have become sanitized, like modern day fairy tales.
It’s a bit rough, but here it goes.
A trapper or a warrior caught in a snowstorm. Hunger and cold sets in, he becomes deranged from starvation. He bit off his lips and fingertips, tearing skin from his own torso. To devour it, nothing can satiate him, for he is beyond help. He wanders aimlessly, never to be seen again.
The Swampy Cree elders of old say, an encounter is fatal, you can’t go near one of these things. Due to his towering size and monstrous strength, his mere presence alone can make a person drop to the ground; shaking, as you lose consciousness. When you see him from far away, only to think that it’s a man walking. But when the beast draws closer, tendrils of fear and insanity claw their way in, death soon follows.
A warrior’s courage, sanity and strength leeches away, as it draws nigh. For no man can overcome him. Many have died from fear, many fared worse. Villages laid in ruins.
His scream shakes the frozen earth as people fall to the ground dead.
He smashes the cabin walls and roofs open, tossing the roofs aside. To pluck and gather each victim. The creature tear off the limbs and feast on the dead.
Only a shaman and medicine man skilled in the craft, can overcome and vanquish the demon god.
Others such as he, continue to wander about. As few elders retains the knowledge of their existence. He cannot go where there’s lighting. For he hates and fear bright lights that intrude his domain, and bars his way from human flesh. From a great distance, the beast will hurl branches, trees and blocks of ice at the bright lights.
A man with a stout heart, startled from his sleep, will quake in his bed, hoping and praying that the evil will not come. For a modern town will become his snack bar.