Hello there, Story Club members.

I'm Ivy, your ghostly host with The Most and keeper of the strangest, spookiest tales on earth.

Today is another Ivy's chilling tale.

This frosty account story club members might make you stay out of the

wintery woods forever. It's one I call Gone with the Wendigo. Last winter, my friends,

Willow Yates, Autumn Nash, and Lance Jackson decided a vacation in the winter woods of the

Great Lake region of Minnesota's

North Forest. We'd rented a cabin on the lake and decided to have a relaxing week playing in the

snow. We'd all been working hard and tracking down phantoms and needed a break, except that we

almost lost our lives to one of the most monstrously horrible things that walks the woods of the Great Lake region.

Something so terrifying, you almost can't say its chilling name on your frozen lips for fear that you may conjure it.

And who knows, you just might.

It was the second to last day of our trip.

We were all exhausted from snowshoeing six miles.

For some reason, we decided to relax from work by going out in the bitter, nose-biting finger-burning cold to do more work.

It had just turned dark, and we were all around the fire pit outside.

We were all planning the fire pit outside.

We were all planning to hit our bunk beds early in our cozy little cabin, as we were completely worn out from our long trek through the woods on our snow shoes.

Talk about a cardio workout.

I swear I burned about 1,500 calories on that little jaunt.

Oof.

We were sitting around the fire, scarfing down some freshly grilled hot dogs, hamburgers,

...