Skinwalker Story

This was a story I wrote when I was in I believe 8th grade. It's been revised by me now and I like to think it's an alright short story. So I thought I'd share. Hope you enjoy!!

I was walking through the woods during the winter, after a late hunt. The sun set quickly, so I decided to just camp out and head back to my cabin in the morning as I was cold and tired after my fruitless trip. I laid out my sleeping bag and got cozy as I could in the bitter cold, my rifle in quick reach if needed. I had my balaclava on tight, same thing with my parka and gloves. It was winter after all and I feared frostbite as the nearest town was over 100 miles away. In the rapidly fleeting light, I could see the tall leafless trees, snow lightly falling. It offered me a small comfort in the isolation. I cozied up in my sleeping bag and started to drift off, until I heard it. It was about 4 hours later in pitch black darkness. My eyes shot open, adjusting to the darkness. From the trees was a low, ominous, calling. “Hunter…” It felt as if it was addressed to me. “Hunter…” It called again, getting ever so closer. I nervously climbed out of my sleeping bag and grabbed my rifle, making sure the safety was off. My hands were shaking. A mix of the cold and my ever growing fear. I scanned around nervously in the darkness. Nothing. Then I heard it again, closer. “Starving… Need meat hunter…” My nerves damn near broke. I started to shake more as I white knuckled my rifle. “So hungry…” it groaned out. Even closer now. Right by my neck… I froze. I could feel its cold breath hitting my skin. It reeked of rotting flesh and the metallic scent of blood. “Hunter…” it beckoned, almost like it could smell me. But it didn’t. It didn’t notice me. Somehow, the damn thing didn’t notice me. “Won’t you be so generous and spare some of yours…?” It stepped around me, still calling out as it did. I didn’t move a muscle. I couldn’t see it well in the darkness, but all I knew was that it was as tall as the pines judging from the silhouette. Its steps were as quiet as the night. I didn't sleep that night. Sometimes, even now, I wonder if the whole thing was just me going insane from the frost that had seeped into my bones, making its way into my mind. But they say when it’s quiet in the woods, that means a predator’s nearby. And it seems that rings more than true.