With my brain working feverishly to remember where I had seen that familar object before, I hastily dumped my load of wood and returned to re-examine the glittering metal.
When I saw the antique ivory handle I knew it had to be the same hunting knife my father had used before he died, but that was five years ago, and no one had seen it since.
In fact, no one had even been to this cabin for over a year, when I had used it for my vacation. At least, I didn't think anyone had been here. I knew that I had thoroughly cleaned it before I left last year. This couldn't have possibly been here then...
I caressed the worn ivory handle of the knife and as I let the comforting and familiar heaviness settle onto my palm, the carefully repressed memories like the turn of low tide slowly flooded my mind.
After a good self-pity session, I dried my eyes and decided the best course of action would be to thoroughly search the cabin and immediate grounds looking for any other oddities before alerting my excitable mother and the authorities to possible foul play.
The cabin appeared to be normal, except for the odd fact that one of the end tables was not dusty; I stepped outside to examine the grounds when I saw something that made me feel very uneasy.
I clutched the comforting handle of the knife more tightly; too late now to worry about fingerprints, and picked my way as quietly as I could through the underbrush searching for telltale signs of where the beast had gone.
There was an obvious trail of small broken limbs and footprints, but I soon came to the realization that I was not a tracker; nevertheless, something about the footprints in the soft, moist ground was not right, and I began to doubt what I had seen.
The footprints were too small to be sasquatch. Not to mention that sasquatch doesn't wear Red Wing boots. I recognized the sole pattern immediately since I always watched the ground when I was younger following my father through these very woods. He always wore Red Wings.
Growing more frustrated by the minute, I continued to follow the footprints all the while muttering to myself, "If this is someone's idea of a joke, this is one sick prank...."
Try as I might, I could make out only these wierd undulating shapes. They were unrelated to anything I had ever seen before and seemed sinister, somehow. What were those shapes? And what did they want? Gatsbycat