I'm Tryin' So Hard With All My Heart and Mind

[Aiden]

"Malcolm, I don't understand why we can't just go after her!"

"Go after her so we can both die? What do you think is going to happen when--"

"That demon told us where she'd be!"

"Demons lie, Aiden!" Malcolm almost yelled, turning around to glare at the boy. "Now I didn't stick my neck out and save you for nothin', you'd better understand that. I don't care how bad your need for revenge is, you aren't gonna do something stupid when you're with me, is that understood?"

"Ariel is going to--"

"Is that understood?!" Malcolm roared, the sound carrying through the trees, sending a few puffs of feathers into the sky. The echo eventually stopped, leaving the two males standing in the clearing of the stretch of forest they had been hiking all day. Aiden shoved his hands into the pockets on the front of his jacket, wishing it would keep him warmer.

"Yeah," Aiden muttered, letting his gaze dropped to the moss covered ground. Wisconsin wasn't as nice as California, that was for sure. Aiden secretly wished it was still a week ago, when they were back in Hollywood and that girl was trying to get him to spend the night on the town with her. Frickin' Malcolm always ruined his chances with the girls, the giant CB.

And within the week, they were in Wisconsin, hiking in the mountains looking for some remains or something, honestly Aiden hadn't paid attention this time around. All he knew was it was a wendigo, and the only other time he'd dealt with one, he had gone down the path of the cave the wendigo wasn't in, and Malcolm killed it.

The next hour of the hike was spent in the better part of silence, with the occasional grunt when they had to jump, slide, or move a pesky branch out of the way. Aiden was armed with a gun, fit snugly into the back of his jeans, and the flashlight that was weighing down the front of his jeans. The gun, which was actually a flare gun, constantly reminded Aiden of the cold he was in, the metal not really absorbing his body heat.

In the end, he supposed that Malcolm was right. Demons had a tendency to lead people in traps of some sort, which meant that the intel that said Ariel would be arriving there after Aiden and Malcolm would have gotten there really meant that Ariel would be waiting for them to rip them to shreds with her Hell Hounds. Stupid witch, she deserved to die.

Suddenly the physical sensation Aiden felt caused him to stop in his tracks, and he decided that the nearby boulder would do fine. "Malcolm, hold up, got something to take care of," Aiden said, making his way to the rock that lead upwards, with a slope beneath it. Aiden quickly took care of business, and as he was turning around, a flash of white caught his eye. He looked again, and from a certain angle, he could see the white tent they were looking for. "Mal, over here!"

He slid down the slope carefully, and then jogged over to the campsite. His mentor wasn't far behind him, and soon they were picking through the scraps and pieces of fabric that littered the ground. Blood was stained all over everything, but there were no bodies. To the untrained eye, it would look like a bear attack, maybe even a pair of bears (which had been the cause in the police report). There was, however, an area where the plants were flattened, like something had been dragged through them, and there were also a set of three thin tire tracks.

Aiden pointed this out, so Malcolm decided to follow them. It took about another hour to hike uphill, only taking so long due to loose dirt, steep slopes that took a while to get up, and losing the tracks a couple of times. Finally they lead to a cave, like always. Always caves. Never a place with light, or windows....or a heater. Caves. Caves had bats, and bugs. And honestly, bats creeped Aiden out.

He slowly entered with Malcolm, sticking close behind him with his flare gun drawn. There was no water for that cliche drip, but each step was amplified ten fold as they tried to quietly shuffle through the tunnel. About fifty feet in, a slight moaning could be heard, a moaning that eventually turned into the word 'help.'

The duo sped up their entrance, and found one man alive, with three other bodies laying on the ground, at least what remained of them. All that could be said was that there were three sets of rib cages with fresh blood still pooling around them, with other miscellaneous limbs gathered around them. Malcolm quieted the man, and cut him down. He explained that they were there to help in very much a hunter way, but the three froze when the wendigo sent its call into the tunnel, bouncing off of the walls all the way into the antechamber they were in.

Unfortunately, the only way out was the tunnel they came in. Cursing, Aiden looked around the area they were standing in, and motioned to a large outcropping that jutted out from the wall. Another, though smaller, jutted out on the other side. Aiden slid out of view behind the one, while Malcolm and the man hid behind the other. In just a few seconds, the footsteps of the wendigo could be heard getting closer, and the call louder when it sounded off again.

The man was breathing loudly and heavily, and grabbed a large shard of rock off the ground, turned the corner, and decided it was in his best interest to attack a creature five times faster and stronger than himself. Malcolm reached out to stop him, but wasn't fast enough. He was fast enough, however, for the wendigo to notice his arm shooting after the man. After shoving its hand into the man's chest, it turned its attention to Malcolm.

"Aiden, run!" he heard before he saw the flash of a flare. The wendigo cried out, but Aiden pushed off of the slick wall, trying to find traction on the blood-slicked ground. After getting nowhere for a few seconds, he finally made it into the tunnel, and ran through. He heard another set of footsteps behind him, so he figured then was the time to haul ass.

He finally came to the edge of the cave, stopping abruptly at the edge of the hill. He waved his arms to keep his balance, and then tried to find the trail they took up. "Crap, we climbed!" he groaned to himself, trying to find an alternate route. He looked over and spotted the three bikes, laying in the mud. He rushed over to them, and just as Malcolm flew out of the cave, he spotted Aiden and rushed over to him.

"Malcolm, we can't outrun this thing!"

"Shut up and go!" he yelled, pushing Aiden off the ledge and letting the bike drop onto the downhill run.

The wheels began spinning as fast as they could, cutting through foliage as they went. Aiden tucked his head down to avoid as many branches as he could, trying to keep his balance as the bike kept dropping off of ledges. At one point, he landed on a fallen tree, riding the length of it before he jumped off and pedaled down the hill once more.

He had no idea where Malcolm was, or the wendigo. Scratch that, he saw a gray shape fly past him, and then the call of the wendigo from ahead. He turned the handles and attempted to lose it, but naturally, that was near impossible. For the speed which Aiden was riding away from it, the wendigo had double that in chasing him. At one point the claws of the monster split his jacket sleeve open as it grazed him, but Aiden was fast enough to steer away.

At the bottom of the hill, they could draw it out somehow, maybe he could find some sort of weapon in Malcolm's car to use that would be more effective. Hell, that was if he could even aim. He had flown by so much of the hill already, he knew the mountain had to begin leveling off soon. That meant he would lose speed and have to use more energy to keep going. Crap. Bad. He needed the thing to die already! He had only lived fifteen years of his life, he was determined to live at least thirty more!

Suddenly the bike gave out from beneath him, and he was flying through the air. The wendigo must've hit the bike, and now the ground was growing closer. Aiden tucker his head beneath his arms in a poor attempt to protect it, and was sent rolling down the hill. He was sure that he landed on his ankle in a way that probably broke it, and it felt like his arm had broken in the process as well.

He finally came to a stop by crashing into a tree, which caused all the air to escape from his body as his back collided with it. He coughed and sputtered for air, trying to ignore all the pain his body was feeling--and his attempt only lasted a few seconds. He groaned, and spat blood into the moss beneath him. He slowly, and painfully, reached for the gun from the back of his pants, and held it loosely in his hand.

There it was. The creature was dumb enough to move at normal speed. Aiden leveled the gun at the creature, trying to get a clear shot.

And then it glowed bright red.

As it sank to its knees, behind it Malcolm threw the flare gun away into the plants, and stumbled down to Aiden. "Damn, you're bashed to hell. You feel alright? Nothin' we can't patch up, but a trip to the hospital might due," he said, the care for Aiden obvious in his voice. He lifted Aiden up, helping along on his good ankle.

"See my point? You go and tear yourself up like this over a wendigo, what're you going to do if hell-bitch is chasin' you down a hill? You should give this old guy some more credit. When the time comes, you'll be able to take your shot at 'er. 'Til then, well, keep rolling with me, and that chance might come sooner as you learn more."

And so many chances would Aiden have, but none of them were going to bring him the result he wanted. The only thing he'd get out of it were a dead mentor, and demon blood that would hulk him out. As he looked at the newspaper report of the bear attack, he placed the article back under the floorboard beneath his bed, replacing the wood paneling and sitting on his bed, looking at the spot where Mal's ashes once rested.

Those days were over, and now he had to play the part of Mal. And he wasn't up to it.