The Windenlief Tribe

I don’t know if I’m supposed to tell this story, but I’m going to, anyways. For generations, we have passed this story on orally. Now, I am writing it down so others can know the truth. Listen carefully to this story of the Windenlief Tribe.

A long, long, time ago, there was a man named Mr. Wind. Mr. Wind was the chief of the Windenlief Tribe. The Windenlief people were a very proud bunch, staying true to their roots. Even when the government pushed for them to assimilate, they refused.

The chief was the most stubborn of them all. He was adamant that nobody in his tribe would ever become like “the invaders”. Well, he also had a beautiful wife and a gorgeous daughter. He loved them very much, but kept a close eye on them to insure they wouldn’t assimilate, even by accident.

“Chief,” a messenger spoke in a worried tone of voice.

“Speak,” the chief ordered.

“We’ve lost another neighbor. Another tribe has agreed to assimilate,” the messenger noted. “They grow closer and closer every time.”

“They WON’T have MY tribe! I swear to the ancestors that the Windenlief Tribe will NEVER assimilate! I’d rather we all die than be like THEM,” the chief replies.

“Agreed, chief. They’ll never take us alive,” the messenger said.

He did not know the truth of that. The chief stared at his messenger in a peculiar manner. There was a darkness within him. Still, though, life went on. Nobody suspected a thing.

As the days went on, however, the chief started becoming more and more antsy. Every time anyone tries to speak with him, he would get angry. He started yelling at people who weren’t even doing anything wrong. Even his own wife began to fear him.

He began destroying stuff at random. He would break walls, throw rocks, and physically harm those who got too close. The tribe members came to their healer, begging for help. There’s not much that can be done to heal a person who refuses help.

Then, one day, the worst possible thing happened. The chief completely lost his mind. In the middle of the night, as his tribe slept, he was awake. He took his sharpest knives in hand and began killing everyone.

Not even his wife and daughter were unharmed by his knife. He stabbed them in the chest and moved on to the next house. There was screams of fear and agony, the smell of blood heavy in the air. Once he was sure everyone was dead, he lit the entire village on fire.

“I’d rather we all die than be like THEM!” declared the chief, then he took his own life.

With that, the entire tribe was wiped out… Well, all aside from his wife and daughter. As it turned out, they survived the stabbing. Just barely, they were able to drag themselves out of the burning village, escaping with their lives.

“The Windenlief Tribe is no more,” Mrs. Wind declared. “From this point on, we will be known as the Johns family, for God was merciful and spared us our lives. We will disappear and nobody will ever know what had happened aside from our family, to whom this story will be passed down to for generations to come.”

It would be lucky if the story had ended there. It did not. Both survivors went to live with the rest of society. The daughter ended up having three kids, a son and two daughters.

The son took on traits of Mr. Wind and grew to be very violent, easily provoked. This would come to be known as the Johns’ Family Curse. In every household related to Mr. Wind, one child would be incredibly violent and mentally ill. Even to this day, the curse continues.

You might wonder how I know of these things. Well, that is because I am of the lineage of Mr. Wind and the Johns family. Though by now, the DNA has grown to mere traces… Perhaps, one day, the curse, too, will be gone. It’s ironic. The Windenlief Tribe was never to assimilate, but now, they have. Perhaps, you or someone you know is also a descendant of Mr. Wind?

End