Orange Wulderbeasts aren’t really orange. And despite how cute and cuddly it sounds, they look nothing like big, fluffy muppets. The real name has been mangled beyond recognition over centuries, but I’ve done a lot of digging and I’m fairly confident that the original name was avdøde utenfor. Still sounds harmless enough, until you run it through a Norwegian translator. I’ll save you the trouble:
Yuck. All thoughts of puffy, big eyed, sherbet-colored bunnies flee, leaving a nasty taste in my mouth. Dead outside. Just the name evokes the big “Z” – the shuffling undead – not something I ever want to meet on purpose.
Luckily, there’s never been an Orange Wulderbeast seen outside of Scandinavia, well, not until now.
I’ve gotten into the habit of scouring the internet for stories of the weird and if they are compelling enough, I make a note of it. When I stumbled across an article about a couple of missing hikers in West Virginia, I was intrigued. I started researching and discovered they weren’t the first disappearances in the same area. There was a camper last year, and before that, it was livestock. A few years before that, there were a rash of pets that disappeared.
Escalation. Something growing bolder, or simply growing bigger.
Sure, it could be anything. A bear. Wolves. Maybe a cougar. A human serial killer. However, rangers report that there is no local wildlife. None. Zero. Zip. Nil. There’s not so much as a fluffy squirrel to be found. There aren’t a lot of things that could empty 20 square miles of wilderness of all living creatures.
Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it’s not a Wulderbeast. Maybe the witnesses that swear something that smelled like swamp, ran though their yard on six legs at 3AM carrying off their full-grown Newfoundland dog were mistaken. Or maybe, just maybe, this is going to be a very interesting weekend.
Overnight bag packed. Car gassed up. Cell phone charged. Camera ready. Pistol loaded. Let’s do this!