Immure ⢠Yandere! Wendigo x Fem! Reader ･â
âBeauty has arrived on the mountainâ
     The NorthCrest Mountains were especially beautiful in the winter. The stream and lakes would frost over, creating mirrors of ice, and the entire mountain would be coated in a layer of cold powder. But not many would ever see these wonders, due to the treacherous terrain. Or so they say thatâs the reason. Either way, enjoying the sights from afar was enough, at least for you.
    The bus engine gave a low hum as it drove along the snow covered road. A dust of red coated your face from the frost nipping at your skin. Youâd known it was cold in the mountains, but you hadnât anticipated the severity. After all, it had been years since you last visited. It was bittersweet re-visiting the mountains, considering you were only coming back in light of your grandmotherâs passing. You were coming for the funeral next week. She had raised you along with your mother when your father left, becoming more like a second mom. The times she would hold your hand, say it was all alright⌠those were the days you were happiest. The joy of seeing her was enough. Enough to trek through even blizzards. Anything to hear her voice.Â
     Her passing wasnât unexpected, but to say it didnât affect you would be a lie. But you were always one to ignore things like that. To go numb with the pain, to not even acknowledge it. It wasnât because you were detached, no, it was more of a survival instinct. A way to keep on moving. A way to live.Â
     This âsurvival instinctâ was something you were engaging in right now, letting your eyes rest from the blinding snow outside and clearing your mind, drifting off. Rides like these were places where many people would say that they can think. But that was just the problem: youâd think. Think about school, the stress of it, your Grandmotherâs passing, the bitter cold⌠Just resting is better. You lost track of time you stayed in that daze.Â
     A sharp halt pulled you out of your thoughts. You didnât have to open your eyes to know that this was where the drive ended. Packing up your things, you maneuvered out of your seat. Your legs ached and the grogginess from dozing off hadnât left you, but you ignored your bodyâs cries and whines and got off the bus.Â
     The air was even cooler outside. You could see your fast paced breaths as you realized how ill-prepared you truly were, worn out from carrying your luggage (you swore it wasnât that much). The walk wasnât far at all, though, thank goodness. Step after step you closed the distance between you and your destination. The house was the same as when you left, even down to the scent of the pine trees. You stepped through the thick and fluffy sheet of snow onto the porch.Â
     You gave the door two knocks and waited, the weight from your bags tugged and pulled on the skin of your hands. Finally giving in, you put them down to peek through one of the front windows. You saw no one. You listened intently for any kind of movement inside, but when nothing but the wind accompanied your ears you sighed. Returning to the door you tried the knob of the door. It opened. âWhat a waste of timeâŚâ
     You were greeted with the familiar sight of your grandmotherâs- well motherâs home. You took your bags inside, sitting them by the door and closing it behind you. After taking your shoes and coat off, you called for your mother, to no reply. As you walked through the house you found answers on a note on the kitchen table, it read:Â
    â Hello sweetie! Iâm so happy youâve come home! Iâve run to town to grab some things, I will be home very soon! There is food in the fridge if youâre hungry. â
     It seems that you were alone, then. Leaning against the kitchen counter you thought about your next move. Smiling fondly, you ran upstairs to your old room. It felt good to be back, nostalgic even. But the reminder of why you were back came rushing back, silencing that fluttery feeling instantly. You plopped down on your bed. The warm, soft sheets felt so good after bearing the cold. You lay there for a moment. But even if it was only a moment for you, you opened your eyes to pitch black darkness.Â
     Damn⌠I fell asleep.
     You grabbed your phone out of your pocket to check the time, the light of it nearly blinding you. After the initial shock you read the small numbers: 11:57 pm. How long did you sleep? Couldnât have been that long, considering how exhausted you still felt. Setting your phone on the bedside table, you got up quietly. Was your mom even awake? If not, should you even bother getting up? Your eyes drifted to your now coated-with-ice window, something it wasnât before. You stood still to listen. The wind was harsh tonight, and the house rattled in response. There were no other sounds but the storm outside. A serene scene.
     You took the lack of sound beside the storm outside as a sign your mother wasnât awake. After a mental debate, you decided to quietly go downstairs to grab your bags and maybe a drink.. Mom shouldnât wake up, right? You were always good at sneaking out. You crept down the stairs without making a sound.Â
     Thatâs when you heard it: a familiar voice. It called for you, its cadence twinged with longing. It was your Grandmotherâs voice. You hadnât heard it in so long, but still recognized it instantly. Maybe you were hallucinating; you could never be sure. But it felt like it was fading, leaving you. You took faster but still silent steps towards it. You couldnât help it. It came closer again and then faded, like a cruel game of cat and mouse. Soon you approached the door that kept the storm out. Were you willing to open it? Was all of your better judgment completely buried under your grief?Â
     Maybe it was desperation, hope, or pent up emotions you couldnât name, but you turned the knob and opened the door to be faced with the harsh pitch black scenery of a winterâs night. The cold snow hit your face causing you to shiver. The voice called again, and oh was it enticing. You wanted to run, wanted to see her face again, tell her everything you hadnât. But the snow held you painfully back.Â
      You couldnât see anything, so you let the voice guide you. It was freezing, the tips of your body turning to ice. Turning back wasnât an option anymore, no. You couldnât if you wanted to. You didnât know where you were, only that she was close. So close. You wanted to call out, but your lips were sealed shut. Your eyes felt weak and the snow felt like needles harshly pricking your skin with every hit, the wind deafening with its howl.
      All your senses slowly shut the winter out, laying you to rest in a bed of snow. The voice was gone now. Your frosted over eyelids closed at last. Would you wake up in bed? Would she be there by your side again? Was this all just a dream?
    â Stop thinking. Stop thinking. Just sleep. â
      âââââââŕźşŕźťâââââââ
From Penny (2centminstrel): Glub Glub. I hope you know Wendigo lore. It'll explain a lot of things⌠wren you gotta write something.
From Wren (W_r_3_n):Â ty for reading chapter 1 updates come weekly at least!!
This is originally written for wattpad so please check that out at this link - https://www.wattpad.com/1287938547-immure-%E2%80%A2-yandere-wendigo-x-fem-reader-%EF%BD%A1%E2%9D%85-%E2%9D%85%EF%BD%A1one
