The Windigo at Broken Bow Creek

November 1967. Luna's great-uncle told her this story once, by the stove in a sod house on the Nebraska plains, and she never forgot the way his voice went flat when he got to the part about the tracks. A man named Harp Culpepper homesteaded a quarter-section near Broken Bow Creek in the winter of '67, and by February he was gone. Not dead—gone. His cabin was still warm, his supper half-eaten on the table, and in the snow outside, a single set of footprints that walked away from the door and kept going, straight into the white, with no return. But that's not the part that keeps Luna up at night. The part that keeps her up is what the searchers found at the end of those tracks: a heap of clothing, a hunting knife, and a human jawbone—molars, incisors, canines, all perfectly intact, but the bone itself had been hollowed out, scraped clean from the inside, as if something had sucked the marrow out of a man's soul. This is a story about hunger, about the things that follow the herds, and about what happens when a man gets between them and what they want. #BrokenBowCreek #NebraskaPlains #HarpCulpepper #Windigo #Frostbite #HomesteadHorror #Winter1967 #Cabin #FootprintsInTheSnow #Jawbone #HungerStory #FrontierHorror #OralTradition #GreatPlains #LunaStorytelling #FexingoHorror #HorrorPodcast #SolitaryHorror Keep every episode free: buymeacoffee.com/fexingo