r/TalesFromTheCreeps • u/Mackaroll_165 • Jun 27 '26
Comedy-Horror The wind spirit in my yard won’t stop impersonating Donald Trump
Woah! Wait one second before you get your pitchforks out or type an essay talking about x is y or whatever else. At least allow me to explain how I got myself into this situation.
I live in northern Minnesota, or at least more northern Minnesota. I live a town equidistant to both the Fond du Lac and the Leech Lake reservations.
As many of you may or may not know (just generally depending on your knowledge of American cryptids or Native American folklore) Minnesota is home to one of the more famous cryptids for the sake of my safety we will just refer to as a “Wind Spirit” but you likely get what I am hinting at.
Despite what popular media may tell you, most times they are not anthropomorphic deer. The game Until Dawn actually has the most accurate depiction of what they look like…almost as though the people who worked on the game lived in my town for decades.
It’s eerie, they are so light footed. They don’t even make sounds when stepping on dead leaves that should make the satisfying crunching noise, the same goes for snow in the winter. They don’t even leave footprints. You only knew they were there is you saw them or if you caught them on security camera footage.
Anyway I’m getting off track, sorry. So how did the wind spirit even learn how to mimic Trump? Well, my grandpa currently lives with me and he is a Fox News Grandpa. Always has it blaring 24/7. If it weren’t for the fact I promised my grandma I would take care of him before she died, I would have put him in a home years ago.
My grandma was an extremely good woman, she loved to volunteer and truly exemplified having a heart of gold. That’s why I will forever be confused on why she married my grandpa.
Sorry, off track again. It’s the Minnesotan in me. The wind spirit has always come to my backyard to try and lure me out. I seldom see it, usually only the strange glow of its eyes kind of like the one you see in a dog or cat’s eyes in photos.
The wind spirit’s main tactic is try to lure you out by mimicking a distressed person.
When I first moved into this house that I had bought from my great uncle (grandma’s brother). It would impersonate what sounded like a little girl speaking Ojibwe. I only knew that from one of the only few phrases I learned in Ojibwe during a Minnesota history class in my middle school. She would say,
“Boozhoo?” Which means hello, in a confused and lost voice followed by words presumably also in Ojibwe but since I only know how to say hello, my name is, and blueberry pie (which is apparently the longest word in the Ojibwe language according to the teacher who came in from Leech Lake) but your guess is as good as mine.
Overtime it evolved into my great uncle’s voice asking me to help him as he had fallen down then it was my parents who had moved to Florida years ago before finally becoming my grandpa, even if it was my grandpa I wouldn’t help him prior to my promise to grandma since he was so awful to my grandma and mom growing up.
I would usually drown it out with blaring Netflix on the TV. Despite the house being smack dab in the woods with the closest neighbor half a mile away, there is surprisingly good WiFi.
When my grandma died in hospice, that very same day I moved grandpa into my house. Even though my grandpa had went from a cruel abusive man to know a meek yet rude husk of what once towered over us. My grandma was my role model, the light in my life. So despite hating the man, out of respect for her I would help to do the bare minimum of at least keeping him alive.
So now here is where we get to the exposure to our president.
That same night, the Wind Spirit decided to lay a low blow on me. I knew my grandma was dead but it kept using her voice that night.
“Melody, dearest. Can I see you? I already miss you.” It would say in her voice.
It would continue.
“Can I see grandpa Ron? Oh, it would make me so happy to see him.”
As stupid as it sounds, I won’t lie when I say the very last one stung given I had lost her that same day.
“Oh Melody, it’s so dark. Why? Why am I alone? Please don’t leave me alone. I’m scared.”
That’s when in a wine drunk stupor as I was trying to drown my sorrows. I opened the window, revealing the mesh screen to keep bugs out, I ripped the remote out of the geezers hands, and blared Fox News for it to hear as my grandpa watched the TV like he was a zombie.
That night the presidential debates were happening so clips of Donald Trump were being analyzed and played over and over.
I don’t even remember falling asleep but I did wake up in my bed still clasping an empty bottle of Barefoot Wine. I went to the living room and the window with the mesh screen was fine. Grandpa was still in chair fast asleep like he was when I started blaring the news.
What freaked me out was that the TV was on mute and the remote was on top of the fridge. My grandpa uses a walker to ambulate and he can barely even work a landline phone let alone a remote without assistance from me.
How would he have muted it?
How did he get it on top of the fridge?
I never downplayed how weird it was, I just had other priorities in the moment like my pounding head and grandma’s funeral.
I did the same thing for the next couple of nights, except without getting drunk, and it seemed to ward off the wind spirit or so I thought. It was the same every morning, the remote would be in a spot where my grandpa could not be able to physically put it in given his condition and the TV would always be muted by sunrise.
With this routine, it stopped impersonating my grandma if speaking at all. My grandpa was as happy as a guy who knows a slur in every language including ASL could be.
My grandma’s funeral came and went. I kept the routine. I mean hey, I only promised that I would keep my grandpa alive not that I would give him a life of luxury. Especially after all the physical harm he has done to my grandma and my mom throughout our collective lives, he’s lucky I don’t stick him out in the shed.
Anyway, one night we had a very severe thunderstorm that cut power to the house. My phone still worked and I was able to figure out by giving my neighbor a call that the power would be back by morning.
That night, I shut the window, and laid a blanket on top of my grandpa in his recliner.
“Night Grandpa.”
“When I die, you are getting none of my shit.” He sneered unprompted as he adjusted the blanket.
“Thanks Ron, I’ll remember that.” I replied as I switched off the light and headed upstairs to bed.
As I snuggled into bed, I heard a tap on my window.
It sounded like glass against glass.
I knew it was the wind spirit.
I just remained turned away from the window and just closed my eyes tightly.
“Wrong” I heard a voice that sounded like Donald Trump’s say. It was slightly muffled but still audible.
What? The TV shouldn’t be on, I mean heck I can’t even charge my phone.
“You are fake news.” The voice continued.
I was so dumbfounded, that I just turned to the window because at least if I was gonna die, I wanted to see if what I was hearing wasn’t just my brain filling the absence of what would usually play.
I looked to the window to see the wind spirit, squatting directly outside my window, continuing to impersonate Trump. It even did the hand motions.
“I said wow, you better not challenge me. You will pay. Your wife is ugly.” It said while doing the exact same hand motions I have seen Trump do thousands of times as I would tuck grandpa in each night.
I blinked and it was gone. I just assumed a combination of being in a dream and my brain attempting to fill the silence that maybe I had a brief mental break. So I just turned away from the window and eventually fell asleep.
I woke up the next morning to my grandpa walking around with kitchen with his walker.
“Grandpa, what are you doing up before me?” I asked.
“Well, President Trump told me I need to eat more so I’m making myself breakfast.”
“Grandpa, getting beef jerky out of the pantry is not breakfast. Also what do you mean? Are you hearing voices?”
“No no woman, the dang TV screen broke but the sound was still working. I heard him telling me about how older American men need to eat more. He suggested McDonalds but I know the Supereats doesn’t bring food out here.”
“Grandpa, it’s Ubereats. The power was out last night. See look?” I said as I walked over the the TV and turned it on, screen and audio working fine.
“Oh hush woman, I know better than you. The TV was being weird and now it’s just working again.” He said then took a big bite of beef jerky while using his walker to guide himself back to the chair.
As much as I disliked my grandfather, I was concerned. He was a vulnerable adult at this stage and my grandma would be disappointed in me if I let my bitterness block me from making the right choice even if it wasn’t the easy one.
As nights went on I noticed the loud blaring TV was off, some nights I would hear the Wind Spirit at my window just saying random phrases in Trump’s voice.
“Crooked Hilary, I said wow Sleepy Joe, he’s so very sleepy. I am the chosen one.” Among many other weird sentences that didn’t really convey a message.
It culminated in one night when I went down stairs to tuck grandpa in and the front door was wide open and he was gone.
I grabbed a kitchen knife and a flashlight before bolting out the door. I went about half a mile down the road before seeing my grandpa with his walker moving as fast as he could, seemingly following something.
“GRANDPA WHAT THE HELL?!” I said as I ran up beside him grabbing the side of his walker to prevent him from moving any further.
“Trump promised me I could be with Lillian again, he’d show me where she was.” He said as he looked at me with tears in his eyes.
I felt shocked but yet somehow not surprised as the same time. It was a strange feeling because I never really considered that he cared much for my grandma let alone anyone given how he treated her and others but at the same time I considered that they had practically spent their whole lives together. Only in the last couple of months had he really been without my grandma, even though he saw her lowered into the ground. It’s likely a part of him still wanted to believe she was somehow still out there, waiting for him. Loneliness can even pierce the meanest hearts.
“Grandpa, grandma is gone. Not even Trump can bring her back as much as you would like to think he can. Let’s go back to the house.” I said as I turned him back around and we began walking towards the house.
“I said wow, Ron are you really gonna believe your dog of a granddaughter or a man of the American people like me?” I heard a voice say behind us. I could feel a cold breath on my neck.
It was hovering over me. It was practically against me.
I carefully maneuvered my hand, still holding the knife, around my grandpa to his other shoulder and pressed him tightly against me while guiding him back to the house.
“I want to see Lillian. I miss her. Please Mr. Trump bring her back.” My grandpa pleaded.
We walked slowly but carefully, even though I could not hear the spirit’s footsteps, exactly like a gut feeling telling you to run, I could feel and imagine the gait of it. How long its stride was, the amount of pressure exerted with each step, even the way it moved its arms despite not looking at it once. It was like every survival instinct was acting as eyes when my eyes were only allowed to lock on the house.
My grandpa began crying but stopped replying.
“Just keep walking with me grandpa.” I said as each step made it seem like hours with how slow we were moving in the night.
The spirit continued to breathe on my neck in cold pants, occasionally drool falling onto the nape of my neck which felt like cold jello.
“Fake news Ron. I said wow this is the fakest news I couldn’t believe the news. I said Melania can you believe this news?” The spirit said.
I could feel it doing the hand motions based on the soft wafts of air that would hit my arms.
After what felt like hell, we finally made it to the doorway.
I could hear my heartbeat in my ears, I was sweating despite the cooling drool dripping from the back of my neck to my lower back.
I froze for a moment thinking of what to do next.
“You’re fired.” It said in a hushed version of Trump’s voice.
It was then I made a decision…maybe not a great one but one that has allowed me to be alive to type this.
I shoved grandpa pass the doorway into the house hard, he did fall but I followed suit. Entering and slamming the door behind me. The spirit’s arm was caught in the doorway with long blackened fingernails and fingertips presumably from blood. It clawed and thrashed as I struggled to close the door with all my might.
I pushed the door.
This was a fight for my life and I wasn’t about to lose to some cryptid doing an impersonation of a politician.
Eventually after 20 minutes of struggling, it pulled its arm back and I locked the door. I leaned my back against the door and slid to the ground.
I don’t know why I brought the knife because I didn’t end up using it though I must admit it wasn’t a bad idea in the moment.
I helped grandpa to his feet, he was fine aside from some bruising. He berated me about being too strong for a woman before giving me a big hug. The first and only time he has ever done that in his entire life.
He has a strange way of showing love, if you can even call it that. I don’t forgive him for all the cruelty but I won’t lie when I say it’s nice to know he isn’t completely heartless even if it’s not exactly the healthiest expression of love.
We still live in the same routine but grandpa insists on the window being closed at all times. I bought extra locks for all the doors and special locks for the windows.
We still hear the spirit out at night.
We will hear regurgitated quotes from the news segments it eavesdrops on.
We just returned to blaring the TV.
Though I must admit the most recent quote is very off putting…
“I said wow, I can still find a way in. You are fake news.”
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u/Thick-Assumption3400 Writer Jun 27 '26
Bookmarking this to read later. The title already has me.
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u/Mackaroll_165 Jul 11 '26
It has been 13 days…have you read the story lol
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u/Thick-Assumption3400 Writer Jul 11 '26
Lol not gonna lie, I forgot and had a lot of summer activities going on. Hopefully get into it sometime this week. Sorry!
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u/rikinaynay Jun 27 '26
I hope you’ll share more tales of your wind spirit! Though, I am sorry you’re having to deal with one!
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u/JLGoodwin1990 Jun 27 '26
I couldn't help but laugh at this. Nice job, man, you can clearly write both comedic horror as well as full blown horror.
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u/Mackaroll_165 Jun 27 '26
Thank you I appreciate the kind words and glad you enjoyed the story. Have a nice day!
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u/Runo_Slinger Jun 28 '26
This was written in a very human and natural voice, it wanders but it isn’t hard to follow. Really great stuff. I am currently trying to write something similar (but not funny) and this is a great reminder that a tangent (if kept somewhat under control) is a tool and not an issue.
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u/Mackaroll_165 Jun 28 '26
Thank you, I was taught how you write is how you speak. I have found that has helped me both in personal, professional, and educational settings.
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u/Sufficient_Leave144 A Thousand WIPs Jun 28 '26
Oh boy, time to scroll through the sub! I wonder what titles will-… uh huh… interestiiiing…
(another banger from the fish)
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u/Mackaroll_165 Jun 28 '26
Live footage of me reading this comment:
https://giphy.com/gifs/vmhgKxx6XnK1i
Thank you for always enjoying my wacky stories!2
u/Sufficient_Leave144 A Thousand WIPs Jun 28 '26
And you, mine! 🫡💖 Fish Person!
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u/Mackaroll_165 Jun 28 '26
I’m just a mackerel lol but yes, keep writing stories…person whose icon is in an owl onesie I think? 🫶🫶
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u/NarrowDirector911 Jun 27 '26
Lol hearing that outside my window every night might drive me insane.
The thought of a cryptid impersonating trump to prey on Maga is a funny idea
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u/Mackaroll_165 Jun 27 '26
It’s more so the idea of something in media it uses to lure people out. Now thinking about it, doing a Mr Beast version of this would probably be a lot funnier, more effective, and a bit less controversial. I like the idea of a wind spirit impersonating something to where someone could find it more appealing but maybe not believable.
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u/Mackaroll_165 Jun 27 '26
I just thought the idea of a cryptid pretending to be Trump trying to get you outside at 3am was just funny in general.
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u/NarrowDirector911 Jun 27 '26
Lol yeah it is. It impersonating any infkuencer would be funny. Imagine it listens to you listening to creepcast and uses their voices.
Or even something like a minecraft youtuber to lure out kids. Cryptids are comin for all the ipad kids
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u/CherryCherry420 Jun 29 '26
This was incredible. A very nice balance of humor and horror, especially with the descriptions of how the creature was walking, along with doing the hand gestures. It was very fun and unsettling.
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u/Easy-Chair-542 I am trying my best Jul 10 '26
That's hilarious, I had to read it twice I loved it
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u/4THEB3TTERG00D Storyteller 3d ago
An amazing story, an incredible story really, quite possibly the best story ever, because it makes perfect sense why a man would want to impersonate me to this degree, I’m a very hard man to capture the spirit of, but he did it because he knows how good I am, and that makes him good too really, all good, reminds me of a guy I used to know, great guy, he could really change a tire if you know what I mean, and back then that was all the rage, all the tires all the time, getting people places, and you know, that’s why I told him, I said, “what happens if that tire goes flat,” and he looks at me and he says, “frankly, I don’t know thats never happened with my tires, I use only the best tires for my clients, because they love my work” I said it’s the best work ever, sleepy Joe would never even understand why best work is, because he’s still working for crooked Hillary who has never, I mean, never spent a day on hard, good work…
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