We were a group of young delinquents who had just been released from jail. Why were we in jail? Good question. I won’t answer. We decided to turn our lives around and venture to the cold, snow-capped mountains of the Himalayas. Our goal? To capture the mysterious creature whose existence is argued among experts – The Yeti. We were determined to hunt down this legendary beast which had always managed to escape the eyes of humanity.
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Our group consisted of me, Julienne Dawson from England, and my fellow idiots, Andrew Owens from the USA, Seiji Hiroshi from Japan and Santo Melendez from Spain. The four of us attended the same university and befriended each other. From the day of our meeting, we have gotten into trouble together, gone to jail together, gotten stabbed together, gotten drunk together, etc. . . . In a few words, we became partners in crime. Which is how we ended up in jail. We did a literal crime.
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And so, in shattering hopes of turning our lives around, we arrived in Kathmandu and began our adventure. We looked around the mountains, forests, and everywhere our eyes could see. We scoured around looking for anything but to no avail, we ended up with nothing. This went on for eight days.
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Seiji then suggested we ask a sherpa to guide us and what a genius idea it was! Looking back, we should’ve done that in the first place. A sherpa agreed to guide us in exchange for an extremely unnecessary amount of money. Filthy piece of shi–
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We never told the sherpa about what we were looking for, in case we scared him off. I suppose the sherpa thought we were just some random tourists. The interesting thing is, the inhabitants and villagers seemed to have some sort of godly respect and even seemed to worship this Yeti figure.
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As we were walking around, we approached a trail of unusual-looking footprints.
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“It’s larger than any footprint of an animal that can be found in the Himalayas,” Andrew observed. “And the shape of the foot seems quite odd too.”
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I turned around to ask the sherpa about this but that useless rat had disappeared! He had run away and abandoned us to rot and die in this mountain of snowy madness! We were lost.
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Santo sighed and said, “Let’s just follow the footprints.” We looked at one another in silent agreement and shrugged, deciding to go with Santo’s instruction. I looked back to find the trail we were following, vanishing in the snow. We quickened our pace, hoping we wouldn’t lose track.
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“The trail seems quite fresh,” I noted, narrowing my eyes at the trail which never seemed to end.
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After what seemed like hours (which was actually seven minutes), we heard the most peculiar sound. It sounded as if a wolf, a bear, a monkey and a rooster had a child, and that child suffered from throat cancer. The sound sent chills down my spine. We looked around with shaky eyes and started looking for shelter. We eventually found a cave and went in.
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It was quite dark inside but one of us flicked on a torch and gave light to the whole cave. It was an enormous cavern extending in many directions. There were what appeared to be these small paintings of a yeti doing splits on the walls. Suddenly, we heard the steady thumps of footsteps coming in our direction. Soon the footsteps began to get louder and faster. Andrew took a peek outside and he gasped. He described the source of the sound as,
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“Some sort of big ass monkey man with white fur running around like a moronic child chasing an ice-cream truck.”
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I frowned. There wasn’t much detail in that description so I went to see this monkey man figure myself. It was snowing quite heavily so I couldn’t see it properly. But Andrew’s description was kind of right. It actually was a big ass monkey man with white fur running around like a moronic child chasing an ice-cream truck. It appeared to be hunting something. Us probably. The probably-a-yeti started coming towards us so we quickly hid behind a rock structure trying to control our rapid breathing. The footsteps suddenly became quiet.
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And that was when shit went down.
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The most-definitely-a-yeti appeared in front of us and we screamed bloody mary. We ran out of there as if a yeti was chasing us, which was actually what was happening. We made it out of the cave and when I said ‘we’, I meant only three out of the four of us. Seiji, our fellow idiot, who I didn’t really like, got caught by the Yeti and it tore Seiji from limb to limb and threw him on the floor. Blood and organs spilled out of his headless body. I had to admit, the red looked good on the snow. It gives this sort of nice texture to the white. Well, he’s dead, I thought. It was good while it lasted.
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Later, we learned Santo managed to take a picture of the furry abomination but it was blurred.
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Overall, the expedition was okay, I suppose. I give it a seven out of ten. Can do better.
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A few weeks later, Andrew, Santo and I found ourselves sitting in front of a therapist who looked like she needed a therapist.
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“Hold on, hold on, hold on,” the therapist sputtered. “So you’re telling me, that you people went to Nepal to hunt a Yeti and one of you ended up dead?!”
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“Unfortunately, yes.”
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The therapist stared down at our past records, criminal activities and so on. She stared at us for a very uncomfortable ten minutes. She proceeded to call her buddy therapist to book an appointment. She cut the call and said,
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“Get the fuck out of my office, you bunch of yeti-hunting lunatics.”
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We ended up killing her of course. Afterwards we ended up in jail. We got out of jail. Went yeti-hunting. Again. We met monkey-man and this time both Andrew and Santo died. And here I am, writing about our story, sitting in my jail cell, wondering if the yeti was true or if it was just a figment of my mental disorder.
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THE END
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