The Fight

The Wendigo froze. It sensed the shift. The trembling rabbit in its grip had suddenly gone still. The scent of fear, which had been so pungent a moment ago, was gone. It was replaced by the scent of ozone and deep, ancient ice.

Leo—no, *The Vessel*—grabbed the Wendigo’s wrist.

The creature tried to pull away, but the human hand held it with the crushing force of a shifting glacier.

"You are starving," Leo said. His voice was no longer a terrified croak. It was a multi-tonal harmonic, layering his own voice with the roar of the blizzard. "But you will not feed today."

Leo twisted his hips. With a wet crunch of metal, he tore the steering column loose from the dashboard, freeing his leg.

He dropped from the inverted seat, landing in the snow. He was wearing only a flannel shirt and jeans, but the cold wind hitting his skin felt like a lover’s caress. It energized him.

The Wendigo roared, rising to its full height of eight feet. It swiped its claws at Leo’s chest.

Leo didn't dodge. He moved *with* the wind. He stepped inside the guard, moving faster than human muscles should allow. He drove his palm into the creature’s sternum.

* CRACK.*

The blow sent the massive beast stumbling backward into the snowbank.

Boreas laughed in Leo’s mind. *See? The storm does not bleed.*

The Wendigo recovered, its hunger overriding its caution. It charged, antlers lowered like spears.

Leo looked at the storm raging around them. He raised his hand.

"Freeze," he commanded.

The moisture in the air obeyed. The swirling snow coalesced, hardening instantly. A spear of jagged, translucent ice, six feet long, formed in Leo’s grip.

As the monster lunged, Leo stepped aside with the grace of a dancer. He drove the ice spear upward, under the creature’s ribcage, piercing the black heart.

The Wendigo gasped, black ichor spraying onto the pristine white snow. It clawed at the spear, but the ice was spreading, flash-freezing its blood, turning its veins into blue spiderwebs.

Leo grabbed the creature’s antlers. He looked into the dying, milky eyes.

"Go back to the dirt," Leo whispered.

He twisted. With a snap that echoed like a gunshot across the highway, the creature fell limp.