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Does the Wendigo Exist?

In America, deeply rooted in the folklore of the indigenous Algonquian tribe, there lies a daemonic spirit, a cannibalistic monster out for human flesh. Its hunger never satisfied, ancient evil hunting those guilty of greed and jealousy. Gaunt to the point of emaciation, its desiccated skin pulled tightly over its bones, bones pushing at the skin from within. Its complexion the colour of ash, with eyes pushed back deep into their sockets, a gaunt skeleton risen from the grave. Its lips tattered and bloody, an unclean beast with suppurations of the flesh. Oozing a strange and eerie odour, one of decay and decomposition, of corruption and death

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