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| Starved-American
Starved-American
♂️
[24197539]
[2012-11-07 04:21:12 +0000 UTC]
"So... hungry...."
(United States)
# Statistics
Favourites: 1; Deviations: 0; Watchers: 63
Watching: 60; Pageviews: 2236; Comments Made: 299; Friends: 60
# Interests
Favorite movies: Wendigo and RavenousFavorite TV shows: The X-Files, Blood Ties, Charmed, Supernatural and Haven
Favorite bands / musical artists: The Priests of the Golden Bull by Cree
Favorite books: The Wendigo, Pet Sematary and The Orphanmaster
Favorite writers: Algernon Blackwood, Stephen King and Jean Zimmerman
Favorite games: Final Fantasy, The Legend of Dragoon, World of Warcraft and Dungeons & Dragons
Tools of the Trade: Claws and teeth.
Other Interests: Cannibalism
# About me
"The blizzard killed most of them...
...I just picked off the rest."
The Facts (As taken from Wikipedia.)
The Wendigo is thought of variously as a malevolent cannibalistic spirit that could possess humans or a monster that humans could physically transform into. Those who indulged in cannibalism were at particular risk, and the legend appears to have reinforced this practice as a taboo.
Though descriptions vary somewhat, common to all cultures was the conception of Wendigos as malevolent, cannibalistic, supernatural beings (manitous) of great spiritual power. They were strongly associated with the Winter, the North, and coldness, as well as with famine and starvation.
"The Wendigo was gaunt to the point of emaciation, its desiccated skin pulled tautly over its bones. With its bones pushing out against its skin, its complexion the ash gray of death, and its eyes pushed back deep into their sockets, the Weendigo looked like a gaunt skeleton recently disinterred from the grave. What lips it had were tattered and bloody. Unclean and suffering from suppurations of the flesh, the Wendigo gave off a strange and eerie odor of decay and decomposition, of death and corruption."
At the same time, Wendigos were embodiments of gluttony, greed, and excess: never satisfied after killing and consuming one person, they were constantly searching for new victims.
All cultures in which the Wendigo myth appeared shared the belief that human beings could turn into Wendigos if they ever resorted to cannibalism or, alternatively, become possessed by the demonic spirit of a Wendigo, often in a dream. Once transformed, a person would become violent and obsessed with eating human flesh. The most frequent cause of transformation into a Wendigo was if a person had resorted to cannibalism, consuming the body of another human in order to keep from starving to death during a time of extreme hardship or famine.
The Story
Centuries ago, long before America ever considered rebelling against Mother England, there was a horrible blizzard. Freezing winds and feet upon feet of snow battered the colonies for months on end. It was the longest and coldest winter anyone had ever experienced, even the natives of the land. The further North one dwelled, the worse it was. Thousands found themselves trapped within their homes, their supplies having run out and having a family to feed.
Alfred was just another young man caught in fate's little fallacy, suffering alongside his family. It seemed as if winter would never end. He would never see the sun, or feel the grass, or hear the chirping of birds again. Alfred had already lost his mother to pneumonia and his little sister passed soon after from frostbite. They had stretched their remaining supplies as thin as they could, but still ran out in the end.
They were forced to melt snow for water and had burned almost everything in their home to fuel the fire. Alfred's father was at a complete loss for what to do and his elder brother had long gone silent, turning into himself. Finally, one day while they all sat starving and listening to the wind, their father snapped. The man killed his brother before his very eyes; smashed his skull wide open against the stone hearth of the fireplace. Shocked, Alfred could only watch in horror as his father howled in grief and desperation before turning on him.
Yet that caused something in himself to snap too, and suddenly he was tackling the only family he had left. He had wrapped his thin, bony hands around the other's neck and squeezed and throttled long after the light had left those blue eyes he had inherited. Then, Alfred had fallen back and cried, though he barely had a minute's worth of tears to shed due to dehydration. He had been cold and hungry for a long time, but now he was also alone. He tried to tell himself the blizzard would end soon and then he could rebuild his life with the spring.
That optimism only lasted three days. Due to the cold, Alfred's kin had yet to start decomposing, but there was nothing he could do with the corpses. He contemplated joining them next, just ending his miserable life so he could be with them in the afterlife. Not that he expected his father to be accepted into Heaven after what he had done. However, Alfred simply did not have the heart to take his own life and resigned himself to the long, drawn out process of starving to death.
Unless...
Two more days passed before Alfred got the idea. He had been staring at the corpses and realized they looked similar to the animals his father would drag home to butcher. He had heard of the idea before, of cannibalism, and knew it was a taboo for good reasons. Yet... how wrong could it be if it meant Alfred would live to see another day? Surely, surely the Lord would forgive him for this one transgression to remain alive a little bit longer.
By that point he was far too hungry to be nauseated by the sight, smell and taste of his kin. It was nourishment and their blood quenched his thirst, though it had long congealed. Alfred ate and ate until only bones remained and mourned the fact he was still hungry afterwards. Unable to do much else, he curled up before the dwindling fire to sleep with blood still staining his hands and face.
He was haunted by a horrible nightmare of a creature with burning sapphire eyes and an enormous, fanged grin. It chased Alfred through the shadows until it caught him, sinking its teeth into his chest and ripping out his heart. He woke then with the image of the monster devouring his heart burned into his mind's eye. Yet something had changed. Now he felt a deep hunger, one more powerful than he had ever felt before. One for human flesh.
The blizzard began to die out and Alfred waited. As he waited, he changed. His teeth elongated and became sharp, pointed. His jaw extended, mouth broadening to become impossible wide. His blue eyes sunk back into his face and his fingers extended into long claws. His skin stretched tight over his bones until it tore in places, but he felt no pain.
All he felt was the hunger.
The want.
The need.
And so he hunted.
The Present
Alfred now wanders around, sticking to the shadows and the night for his own safety. He has been mobbed in the past for what he is and does and would prefer not having a repeat experience of the event. He dresses in the rags of clothing he takes from his victims, thus they are often thoroughly stained with blood that is not his own. Alfred revels in the cold and despises too much heat, though he is attracted to the body heat put off by humans. His senses of smell and hearing are his most profound, but he can also sense the heat signatures unique to humans.
He is stronger than the average man and though appearing frail can endure a lot of abuse. However, Alfred's true prowess lies in stalking and pouncing, utilizing agility and speed to surprise his victims rather than face them head-on. He is not quite as violent as most of his kind, but it does not take much to provoke him. It is a rarity for him to do anything but attack on sight, unless the other is not a human. Alfred also holds a soft spot for those who resemble his family (aka any Canada's, England's or France's and their gender swapped counterparts). He will most likely not attack these people and may even protect them.
If you are evil, malicious or bad in any way, you are more prone to him attacking you. Alfred still has that sense of justice he was born with and is more than happy to dish out some well-earned bad karma.
***NOTE NO PICTURES BELONG TO ME. (Though I am considering drawing some fanart for this account.)***
***NOTE ALL INTERESTS REFERENCE ALFRED IN SOME WAY. (Even like this he's self-absorbed.)***
# Comments
Comments: 119
((Why thank you kindly for the watch, my dear. This is a beautiful account! A fascinating story as well....))
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((woah!! sweet account!! where'd you get the picture that's your webcam? it's creepy but cool XD))
He sniffs around the forest, looking for some carrots or flowers to bring back home for him and Arthur.
👍: 0 ⏩: 1
((Ah, thanks. 
Alfred growled, watching the strange creature from the forest canopy. The other was not exactly human, but he was a partial and that was good enough. Food was scarce and his hunger had become nearly unbearable. "Food...."
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((oh o3o))
His ears perked and he looked behind him. "H-hello..?"
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Alfred dropped down from his perch, landing on all-fours and growling at the other. Drool dribbled from his blood-stained mouth and his sunken, blue eyes seemed to stare right through the bunny. "Food... smell good...."
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"Eep! I-i'm not food! I-i can get you some though..!"
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Alfred did pause at that, but only just barely. "Can get... food...? Human...?" These two probably had very different ideas of a healthy diet.
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"Yeah! I'm sure there's a dead deer around here somewhere!"
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He scowled. "I do not eat deer. Human only. Human good... food... you food...."
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"W-what?! I'm not human though!"
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"Part human. Good enough. None around...." Alfred was far too hungry to care about technicalities like a pair of bunny ears.
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He changed into his full bunny form. "N-not anymore!" He heard gunfire close by and jumped, trembling. "Hey..! There's hunters nearby! You can eat them for me!"
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Alfred had initially growled when the other transformed, but the gunfire made him perk up. Before the bunny had even finished speaking he was gone, chasing after the gunfire. He was barely gone a minute before an agonized scream echoed through the woods, though it was abruptly cut-off. Alfred gladly tore into his meal, not really caring if he had inadvertently helped the bunny or not.
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He winced a little but sighed. "Now I don't have to worry about hunters!" He quickly hopped over to where the other was, closing his eyes so he didn't see what was going on. "T-thank you! You really helped me!"
👍: 0 ⏩: 0
((*Wave* Hello o.o/ ))
Gnasher walked quickly through the woods, his boots making the snow crunch lightly. He wrapped his furs around him tighter. A good walk through the cold woods was something he felt cleared the mind. a bit too much apparently. He was lost now. "Hello?!" He called, just to see if anyone was out there with him
👍: 0 ⏩: 1
((Pfff hi. You know this guy totally kidnapped Gnasher's wife, right? XD))
Alfred paused in his devouring of a half-eaten leg, having heard the call. The limb was a leftover from his last meal he had saved since prey was becoming harder to catch. It was not nearly enough to sate his hunger, though. Yet... this was promising. Stuffing the leg into the hollow of a tree, he scurried off through the canopy of the woods.
Alfred was light and agile enough to dash along the branches like a squirrel and preferred it to the ground. It gave him a vantage point for stalking and pouncing. Focusing on the heat signatures nearby and the surrounding scents, it only took him a few minutes to find what- or who- he was looking for. A man wandering through the woods; probably lost. Easy prey (or so he thought).
Growling softly, Alfred lowered himself down onto the branch much like a wild cat. He waited, attention honed in on his target as he watched for just the right moment to- there! He leaped from his hiding place in the treetops, claws outstretched as he aimed to tackle the stranger from behind.
👍: 0 ⏩: 1
((Yes I do~ ^^ Gnasher would probably go leaping after him and try to get his wife back! I actually think its pretty cool.))
Gnasher heard the slight creaking of the trees and quickly leaped out of the way, drawing his knife. "OI!" He roared, ready to attack. But upon seeing the creature, he paled. He had never seen anything like it! It looked human shaped... but there was no way it was a living thing... it looked like a deformed corpse!
👍: 0 ⏩: 2
((Yeeeaaah Wendy's no beauty queen. XD))
Alfred hit the dirt and skidded a bit, but was back on his feet in seconds. He snarled at Gnasher, baring his sharp teeth and flexing his claws- both of which were blood-stained. "Hungry... food...." He hissed, stalking towards the other with obvious ill intent.
👍: 0 ⏩: 0
((Yeeeaaah Wendy's no beauty queen. XD))
Alfred hit the dirt and skidded a bit, but was back on his feet in seconds. He snarled at Gnasher, baring his sharp teeth and flexing his claws- both of which were blood-stained. "Hungry... food...." He hissed, stalking towards the other with obvious ill intent.
👍: 0 ⏩: 1
(You call him Wendy? o.o))
"Oh I don't think so." He said, holding his knife steady, now not sure it would do much good. "I'm not sure I would taste very good."
👍: 0 ⏩: 1
((Haha, short for Wendigo.... It was the one that stuck out more than anything else. XD))
That hardly seemed to phase Alfred's resolve to eat Gnasher. "Food...." Snarling, he lunged again, aiming to tackle the other's legs and knock him down. Usually, if his prey hit the ground they were done for.
👍: 0 ⏩: 1
((I figured~ ^^ It makes sense!))
Gnasher took off to the side, just barely enough for him to get out of the way. "BACK OFF!" He roared "I have a dragon, and I'm not afraid to use it!"
((He does. He has a pet dragon that sleeps under his helmet. Forgive me if it feels like godmodding >.<))
👍: 0 ⏩: 1
((Pft nah. Wendy's immortal so I'd be a hypocrite if I called that godmodding.))
Alfred hit the dirt again and snarled in aggravation, turning on his heel and kicking up dead leaves. "STAND STILL!!!" he shrieked, charging Gnasher yet again. Oh, if only he could sink his sharp claws into that soft flesh....
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((Thanks ^^))
"No!" He took off his helmet, revealing the dragon sitting there. Aggravated from the movement, it hissed and spat some fire at the windego
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The fire hit Alfred in the chest and he shrieked in pain, immediately backing off. Heat was the biggest weakness a Wendigo had and that went double for fire. He hissed, glaring fiercely at Gnasher as he cradled his seared chest.
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The dragon-Nipper-Hissed at the stranger and crawled down Gnasher's arm. "Who are you?" The viking demanded "what are you?"
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"Alfred... Wendigo...." He hissed right back at the dragon, bristling like an angry cat. "Smell good... must eat... so hungry...."
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Well at least he was intelligent... "I wonder how that would go" Gnasher mused. "I'm not exactly human you know" He said, Nipper's wings spread in a manner of defence
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Alfred shrugged, though he did stand at his full, immense height in an effort to intimidate the dragon right back. "Human enough. Humans scarce... no food.... Must eat. Eat you."
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Nipper backed up Gnasher's arm and hissed again, though growing nervous. "And what would happen if you ate a person who cannot die?" Gnasher asked, carefully backing away
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Alfred stepped forward for every step back Gnasher took, keeping the same distance between them. "I don't know, nor do I care. Food is food... and I must eat...."
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"Can't you eat regular food?" He asked. Gnasher was a naturally inquisitive guy.
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Alfred shook his head. "It is disgusting to me- inedible. It tastes of rotted meat and turns to ash in my mouth.... Even if I force it down, it does nothing for the hunger and I cannot digest it...."
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Well at least he was speaking more like a human. However, Gnasher knew his best method of getting out of here alive was to... RUN! And so he did, taking right off
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Alfred, though his chest still burned, shrieked angrily and chased after him. He dropped down to all-fours and crashed through the underbrush with a practiced ease, using rocks and tree trunks as launch pads. After one particularly long jump he made a swipe at Gnasher's back with his claws.
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"AGH!!" Gnasher fell flat on his face, shocked and in pain from the gashes on his back. Nipper squeaked and rolled a good few feet away. Gnasher tried t scramble to his feet, but the pan in his back was too much!
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Alfred wasted no time, pouncing on Gnasher's back with a hungry snarl. He remained perched there, hovering over him hungrily. "Food... must eat... smell good...."
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"NO!" Gnasher winced and tried to roll over, but alfred was just too heavy for him in this state! "No..."
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Alfred leaned down, teeth grazing the back of Gnasher's neck as he prepared to bite down and crush his spine. However, he stopped at the last second, giving a powerful inhale. He pulled back and sniffed a few more times for good measure, emitting a low growl. "You smell like mother... why do you smell like her?!" he snarled, slamming a clawed hand down onto Gnasher's head.
((Did I mention he thinks Gnasher's wife is his mother? XD))
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"AGH!" Gnasher winced again. "I-I don't know! Who... who is your mother?" He asked, relieved he was not dead.
((Yup~ read that RP! ^^ Good read!))
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Alfred growled low in his throat, pressing down harder on Gnasher's head. "Marguerite! Marguerite is my mother! I found her... I found her again but you smell strongly of her!! Why?! Tell me!!"
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Gnasher winced slightly at the pressure, but he could already feel his back healing up. "I-I don't know! M-my wife is named Maggie?" He offered "What does she look like, your mother?"
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"Long, blond hair... blue eyes.... Pale and beautiful...." Alfred seemed to soften a bit, his grip letting up a small amount at the memory.
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Gnasher nodded, feeling his grip slacken. "Blue or violet? Because my wife has violet eyes"
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Alfred paused, scowling. He was suddenly unsure, but... if Gnasher smelled of his mother, then he must be right! "Violet! Now tell me why you smell of her, damn it!"
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Gnasher faultered. "D-does she have a piece of hair curling in front of her face?" He asked, confirming and buying time
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Alfred snorted. "Of course. I know my own mother."
((In reality Maggie just shares similarities to his mother. It's been centuries so his memory of her is foggy and he latched onto Maggie because he missed his mother so much.))
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"You... you're describing my wife..." Gnasher murmured, completely confused.
((Aww... poor Al...))
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