Hello everyone, and welcome to my story! I absolutely loved playing Until Dawn, I thought it's characters, it's plot, and the suspense that it put you through was amazing! BUT I had always wished that there was more explanation to the curse and the Makkapitew. From there my mind spun off into a variety of ideas, and after reading some of the stories here, I had the inspiration to write this one down! This story will be mostly (if not completely) told through the Makkapitew's perspective, and will focus on his transformation, both becoming a wendigo with no humanity, to him slowly regaining it and seeking a way to be released (It's a LOT more complicated than that, but I don't want to spoil anything :) ), along with the eight teenagers that come up that one fateful night. Because of this, much of the beginning of this story will be pre-game, and will show much more of the events of the past that built up the main game. So, without further ado, let's begin!

RATING: T/M Just in case! If a chapter gets particularly violent, I'll let you know!

1. The Origin

Surrounded

That was the first thing that came to mind as I sat there, my hands bound tightly, as my people looked down upon me with varying levels of worry and disgust. None of them truly understood what had happened, or understood what I had done or why I had done it. But in their minds, they knew enough to find me deserving of whatever was to come next.

Twelve days ago, I left my tribe to scout further up the mountain for a more suitable living area, travelling with my fellow scout Ahote; We were only meant to be gone for three days, at most. After a full day of travelling up the mountain, away from the safety of our clan, a violent snow storm swirled in the clouds, descending down upon us. We took shelter in a nearby cave, waiting for the conditions to improve. For hours we watched the sky, watched as the winds and snow only increased in intensity. We realized then that we would have to turn back, our supplies of food and water would only last for a few more days, if used sparingly. Ahote wanted to leave immediately, through the perils of the storm, down to the rest of the tribe, believing we would make it if we left immediately. I urged him to have patience; Surely the storm would improve if we gave it time. After debating, I eventually convinced him to spend the remainder of the day and night within the cave, and in the morning we would head out after the storm had passed.

When morning arrived, I realized I had made a grave mistake. The storm had not relented over the night, and now covered the land in a thick blanket of snow that rose almost up to our knees, and only continued to grow. We knew leaving the cave now would be futile, and were only left with one choice: wait in hopes that our people would come for us.

The cave became our prison, and as days passed with our supplies of food slowly dwindling, yet by now the storm was fading somewhat, though there was too much snow for us to escape easily. My hope began to diminish, as the realization dawned on me that this cave would likely become our tomb. Ahote, restless with pains of hunger and the bitter cold, refused to wait in the cave to die.

After four days, he left the cave in the night while I slept, stealing what little food and spare furs we had between us to keep warm. When I discovered this in the morning, I became furious. How could he leave me with nothing, so that I could die here alone and hungry? I was becoming weaker with the lack of food and constant cold, but in an act of desperation, I took off into the snow, following his tracks down the path we had come up days ago. The cold was brutal, and I could feel each of fingers and toes slowly become colder and colder, and eventually I found myself almost completely unable to move them. I knew that what I was doing was foolish, that if I couldn't catch up to Ahote soon, I would likely never make it back into the cave. But there was one thought that kept me going:

I will survive this. I will not die. Find Ahote.

After following his tracks for what felt like hours, I finally found Ahote. He was collapsed, face first in the snow, not shivering, or moving; The cold had killed him. For a moment, my anger over his betrayal faded, as I stared down at his now lifeless body. He didn't want to die in that cave, and I was the one who trapped him in there. He didn't deserve this, dying cold and exhausted, like prey running from it's predator.

Without thinking, I grabbed Ahote's legs, and started the journey back to the cave, moving as quickly as possible. He deserved to be reuinited with our people, to be buried with our ancestors, to be at peace. Cold and exhausted, I arrived back in my meager shelter, allowing his body to lay in the corner of my shelter. With what I had retrieved off his corpse, I hoped it would be enough to keep me alive until others came.

The little food Ahote had stolen lasted me only another day. By now six days had passed since I had left my tribe, and I had no longer any source of food. My mind began to drift to despair once again. Wouldn't the Chief had sent help by now? Was this storm impeding them? Would I ever be saved?

Surely they must be coming soon

I held on to my hope, allowing this thought to drive away the fear I was beginning to have. Despite this dire situation I was stuck in, I hoped it would be enough .

They must be coming to help.

They MUST.

Three more days passed after I ran out of food. By now the storm had long since stopped, but I was no longer strong enough to stand for prolonged periods, let alone walk the journey back down the mountain. Hunger gnawed at my being, a craving for sustenance that I couldn't satisfy. Despite the few furs I would drape over my body, the cold tore into my very being, as if a strong gust of wind could freeze my body entirely.

In this, what I believed would be my final moments, my thoughts returned to my clan. How they never sent anyone to help me. How foolish I was to believe that they could save us. If only I could leave, if only I had the strength to escape death's cold grip, but I was just so HUNGRY.

It was after this a realization occurred, I slowly looked over at Ahote's body, peacefully laying in the corner where I had left him. A single idea came to my head; A sick, twisted, horrific idea, but it could save me. I could escape my fate. I could live. I just had to be willing to do what I needed to.

I can survive. There is only one way. I know what I have to do.

My mind was pushing me. I was nauseous , trembling, as I slowly crawled over to his body. Tears stung in my eyes as I slowly drew my hunting knife. I wasn't ready to die, I knew that. But was I ready for this? Was I ready to sacrifice my humanity to prolong my life?

Do it to survive. To SURVIVE.

It was two days after I began to eat Ahote that my people found me. How disgusting I must have appeared to them. A scout, barely old enough to be a man, hunched over his body, feasting on his left thigh, blood covering my mouth and splashed on my neck. I didn't even notice them at first, so focused I was on my craving for food. I didn't want them to see me like this, nobody was ever supposed to come. I was only to eat enough to get my strength back, enough to fill my aching, cold body. Once I had my fill and could walk easily again, I could travel back down the mountain to my people, and tell them Ahote had perished on the way, or had been attacked by wildlife. Something different. But there would be no hiding the truth now.

The scouts brought me back to our camp, along with the remains of Ahote. Looks of disgust were plastered on their faces whenever they looked at me. I could never return their gazes, staring firmly at the ground as I was brought before our Chief. They told him of my crimes, of how I had betrayed Ahote in death and ate from his corpse. I tried to explain what had happened, pleaded with them, but they refused to listen. I was no longer a person in their eyes, I was a monster. A monster who would gladly rip the flesh off their bones and joyfully devour it, before moving onto my next victim.

And so am I here, sitting in the dirt, as the Shaman prepares the ritual, my punishment. Various totem poles surround me, their eyes staring through me; They would be necessary to attract the attention of the spirits.

Helplessness and fear fill me, as I wait for the Shaman to begin. "What will happen to me now?", I wondered to myself. This ritual is different, one that I've never seen. One that has never been done or seen before by anyone in the tribe.

Why am I the one deserving of this punishment?

I began to reason with myself, my fear slowly fading, and being replaced with anger. Ahote almost killed me. He betrayed me, HE was the one that forced me to use the last of my strength trying to find him. Because of him, because of HIS stupidity, he was dead, and through him I only had one opportunity to live. And now because I took that only opportunity, my life is forfeit as well.

I am NOT deserving of this punishment!

And yet here I am, looked down upon by my own people. How dare they sit there and judge ME? Had they come sooner, we both could have been saved! Because of them, because of their neglect, they lost a good man, and were about to willingly destroy another, to erase away the reminder of how they failed us. How they failed me.

And THEY wish to punish ME!

My anger and hatred rose through me, clouding my thoughts, as I watched the Shaman walk towards me. He was hiding behind one of his many masks, this time wearing one carved with the expression of anger, as red paint surrounded it's eye-holes and formed a solid line down it's cheeks, and fangs protruded from its grimace. Behind it all, I knew he was smiling. Why wouldn't he be? I knew he couldn't wait to be rid of me, to put this horrible event behind him and pretend it didn't happen. How he must enjoy these punishments he disposes on his people, behind those fake faces of his. The Chief appeared behind him, his face hiding any emotion he felt. Anger surged through me as I met his gaze.

It should be YOU sitting here now! YOU!

The Shaman looked over at the crowd that had gathered, before he finally spoke.

"You disgrace us with your very presence, Mingan."

He began to pace around the outer edge of the circle of totems he had created, his masked face never looking away from me.

" Not only us," He continued, "But our ancestors as well. Your ancestors" .

He became silent once more, as he slowly finished his first lap around the circle. He stopped in front of me, looking down upon me. I looked up to meet his gaze, anger brewing in my mind.

"Ahote had such a life ahead of him. He was young, as you are, only recently had he completed his passage into adulthood. And now he was taken from us," He began to raise his voice with a passion I had not expected. "Taken by YOU!"

NO. I will not be responsible for that fool's death! He got himself killed, he BETRAYED me!

The crowd watched in silence, the Chief continuing to stare at me. I remained silent, staring into the Shaman's tiny eye slits in his mask, occasionally looking back at the Chief. I refused to show them any of my fear or anger, the Shaman would not get the satisfaction.

"Your own stupidity doomed not only yourself, but him as well!" the Shaman said as he continued to berate me. "Had you left when the storm came initialy, like Ahote wanted too, you could have been saved! But instead you waited! And when your death was imminent, rather than face it with any dignity, you instead turned to your own inner cowardice, and consumed the flesh of the dead as a means of survival."

My anger was becoming an unstoppable wave that needed to be released as I tried to contain it as best I could. The shaman lowered himself then, to get eye level with me, his face merely inches away from mine. I returned his gaze with one of my own.

His voice became much quieter, but held just as much disgust."Not only did you doom the life of your fellow man, but you disgraced him by mutilating his body for your own sick survival! You betrayed him, coward!" His last words were barely a whisper, but it was too much for me to contain.

"Who has betrayed who, Shaman?" I replied, raising my voice with each passing word as my anger became vocalized.

"Ahote was a fool! He left me to die, he betrayed ME!" I was shouting now, fully releasing the boundless anger I was feeling.

"What he did left me with no choice! HIS stupidity doomed ME! And when the threat of untimely death was closing in, I did what I had to do to survive! Do any of you understand that!? Of course you don't!"

Cowards! They all would have made the same choice if it were them!

The Chief stepped forward, speaking for the first time, "Be silent, you fool! Even now, you try to slither out of your death at the cost of others!"

"Where were you, Chief?!" I was almost screaming, making sure every single person in that crowd could hear me clearly, throwing my head around to get a good look at all of them.

"Had any of you sent someone sooner, had ANY of you come sooner, we both could have been saved! Instead you sat back and waited as the days passed without our return! You are to blame as much as that fool was!". My anger was driving me now, spurring me on with a strength that I hadn't felt in days.

"Enough!" yelled the Shaman, as he stepped back away from me, briefly looking to the sky.

"Though his time was cut short, Ahote is at peace now". He looked back down at me, his eyes narrowing through his mask. "No matter what tragic pain or suffering you brought upon him, he is, and forever will be, safe from any earthly harm, as will we all when our moment comes" The Shaman briefly looked over at the rest of the crowd before returning his gaze to me. "Except for you."

"You are a monster, forged in your own fear of death! And so you will never find the peace that it brings! We give you over to this land, your humanity stripped away, never to join us in the Great Beyond! This is your punishment, Mingan! We condemn you this world, living as the feral monster you are, for all of eternity!

My fear returned to me, as I didn't fully understand what his intentions were. I was to become feral? Stripped of my humanity? What plan did these people, MY people, have in store for me?

It was then that the Shaman fixed his gaze upwards to the clouds, and began to speak. His words were ones that I didn't understand, and as I quickly looked around to search the faces of those gathered around me, I could tell they didn't either. It was as if he was no longer speaking to me, or anyone around me, but to the sky itself.

As the Shaman continued his chant, the totem poles, perfectly placed in a neat circle, slowly began to glow a bright white out of their eye sockets; At first it was a dim light, barely noticeable, but as the Shaman's speech to the sky continued, the glow began to intensify, slowly becoming more and more blinding. As they became brighter, I could feel my panic and fear taking over me once more. I tried to look up at the Shaman, or anyone else around me, but I could no longer see anything except for the blinding light. I tried to scream or shout, anything to stop what was happening to me, but I neither felt my mouth move nor heard any sound, except the unknown curse the Shaman was vocalizing.

What is happening to me? Why won't they stop this? Somebody make it stop! Please! MAKE IT STOP!

Fear had filled me completely once more. I couldn't move to stand or shout, and I couldn't see anything with the light that surrounded me. All I could hear was the ranting of the Shaman as he perpetuated this nightmare.

Is there anyone even here anymore? Am I alone now?

Am I dead? Is this my eternal prison?

No, I must remain calm, I will get through this. I have to.

I rummaged through my mind, trying to focus on something, anything, besides this fear I was feeling. I thought back on my life, on the events that brought me to this moment. Our scouting, the storm, Ahote's betrayal...

BETRAYERS! All of them!

My anger was refreshed once more, as I willingly allowed it to flow through me again, to consume me.

They put me here! They are making me suffer!

I yearned to be free once more, to be able to tear them all apart for the suffering they were inflicting on me. To be able to force them to suffer the way I was suffering.

I want them to pay! To be punished! They deserve it! All of them!

All of a sudden, the Shaman stopped speaking in his unfamiliar language, and instead uttered one final phrase.

"It is done, he is ready."

In another moment, I felt something sharp driven into the back of my skull. In the next, there was complete, utter blackness, with only one, singular thought filling my mind as a coldness enveloped me:

VENGEANCE!

Whew, this chapter was a bit longer than I think most of the chapters will be, probably because I spent multiple days getting it right (gotta make a good first impression, right? xD)

Anyways, thanks for reading! If you enjoyed it, feel free to fav or follow it! This is one of my first stories, so feel free to leave me a review and help me improve! Half the enjoyment comes from my readers enjoying it too!