Peter And The Yeti — Darren Pillsbury

All Peter wanted was a nice, fun ski trip with his friends Dill and Gwen.

Instead, a murderous monster is hunting him across the mountain.

Now Peter has to decide whether he can trust the local hermit, an old American Indian man, who may hold his only chance to escape the jaws of death…

Story #12 in the PETER AND THE MONSTERS saga! 43,000 words.

Sequel to the following books:
Peter And The Dark Side - Story #11
Peter And The Gingerbread Men - Story #10
Peter And The Frankenstein - Story #9
PETER AND THE WEREWOLVES (Volume Two)
PETER AND THE VAMPIRES (Volume One)

Excerpt from Peter And The Yeti:

The snow came down in speckled curtains of white, like the world's biggest snow globe shaken by a giant. In the silence of the hallway, Peter could hear the snow gently pelting the windows, like moths batting against a light in the summertime, but quieter.

Outside, the wind whistled low and spooky through the trees.

And something moved in the forest.

Peter froze to his spot. He couldn't be sure of what it was â€" he had seen movement more than he had a shape â€" but it was big, he was certain of that. For a second he thought the weird Indian guy might be standing outside and watching him again, but he dismissed that possibility right away. Whatever had moved amongst the pines was taller and bulkier than any human.

It was hard to get a bead on exactly how big it was, because it blended in so seamlessly with the snow and the shadows. But when it moved, the area behind three separate trees blurred and shifted the tiniest bit.

Possibilities thudded through Peter's brain.

Bear?

But it has white fur.

Polar bear?

Polar bear's too small.

Werewolf? With white fur?

What would Grandfather â€"

Peter's gut clenched as he remembered the old man's warnings.

Snow demon.

That's a snow demon out there.

Peter tried to calm himself down. He could barely see the…creature? shape? Whatever it was. Other than a white, shadowy blur, he had no idea what it looked like.

Don't be scared, it's just the name that's scary. It's probably like a big teddy bear or something. And I bet it can't see me, I bet it doesn't even know I'm here â€"

…right?

Peter sloooowly edged about two feet to the left.

Down in the thicket, the shape shifted. Like it was stepping to the side.

As though it wanted to see something through the trees.

Oh crap…

Peter could feel eyes on him. Creeping over his skin. Tracing his body, like they were sizing him up.

How fast he could run, how much of a fight he would put up.

How I would taste.

Peter shuddered.

Suddenly the thing lifted its head. At least, that was the impression Peter got: the image of a smaller shadow, separate from the larger one, rearing up into the darkness.

Krrrrrrrhhhhhhhrrrrrrrrrhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

The sound was that of a howl, but not like a coyote. Not like the werewolves Peter had heard on Thanksgiving.

It was a cat. A large, powerful cat like a lion or tiger, but its voice was higher and raspier.

Peter hoped and prayed that the creature was not announcing it had found its dinner for the night.

Visions filled Peter's head of an abominable snowman thundering up the slope and crashing through the plate glass windows. He suddenly realized, This is a really bad place to be standing.
But before he could move a muscle, the shape in the trees darted to the left and disappeared.

Peter ran like a madman for the end of the hallway, then stopped at the edge of the windows and looked back. He waited for it to bolt out of the trees and towards the lodge, but nothing happened.

It was gone, swallowed up by the darkness of the forest.

Until he heard it again, farther up in the woods, screaming into the night.

Krrrrrrrhhhhhhhrrrrrrrrrhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.

He didn't wait at the windows any more. He ran.