1 Chindi

It's there in front of me, just sitting there... Waiting, I can feel its energy almost like its asking me to pick it up. A long, stainless steel knife, with a strong, dark oak, wooden handle. Decorated with carvings of animal skulls and skeletons. At the end is a silver wolf head, jaws wide and face, twisted into an angry snarl. Its eyes are made out of ember with each eye holding a small crystal inside, giving it the appearance of reflecting eyes in the night. The most eye catching part of the knife though wasn't the designs, it was the blade. The stainless steel shining in the dim light. The blade was about the size of my forearm. About five and a half

inches of pure agonizing pain. One side is sharp and has a nice curve that was similar to a kitchen knife, the other side though was full of sharp pointed spikes made perfectly to rip bone and skin out of whatever was stabbed. It looked like a hunting knife in essence, but the design on the side is what strikes the most fear. It had a carving of a man's face on the side but around that man looked like a big hungry looking wolf. One that if it was in front of you, you knew you wouldn't be able to do anything if it saw you as its prey. That was my knife. The one sitting on the table across the dim lit room. It had a name. This knife was called Chindi. In Navajo religious belief, a chindi is the ghost left behind after a person dies, believed to leave the body with the deceased's last breath. It is everything that was bad about the person; the "residue that man has been unable to bring into universal harmony" they say. That is what my knife was called. "Chindi" I would say out loud. The name rung in my head and my pulse quickened. I love that feeling, the feeling of adrenaline. When your pulse quickens and you can feel your blood race through your veins. I look over at the clock, it's 6:35 AM. "I should get some rest" I say as I stand up. As I'm leaving the room I take one last look at Chindi, then I close the door and the room goes black.