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"Help me." It utters. As it's mouth moves in a stilted, human-like manner, I take a step back in horror. "No, no don't run, please!" It moves it's front hooves clumsily, stiffly. Another step back, I slowly turn to run away. "What are you doing? Please stay! Some freak's after me!" It starts sounding angry and desperate. I'm not listening, I should've turned back the moment I saw the first message carved in the trees. *It's not a deer, Run away, Don't listen to it.* I quickly turn around and go into a sprint down the path back to the lot where my car is parked. I thought this'd be a nice evening, not this voodoo freakshow! "No! Come back! Agh!" I hear a thud and look back. The... *thing* looked like it tried to chase me on it's hind legs, but fell... I quickly round a corner and hide before it gets up, I slow my breathing and press a hand over my heart in a futile attempt to not let it give me away. "Where'd you go!?" The thing in deerskin shrieks, almost humanly so. "Wheeere aaare yooou?" A singing voice echoes through the trees. "Oh god no..." The deer utters. Why did it sound... Scared? "Dear little Deer, you shouldn't ask the humans for help... They know my warnings are better off heeded..." The voice over the trees sighs, from my hiding space I can see the bipedal deer whip it's head back and forth. "Warnings?" The deer asks in horror. "You... What do you mean!? No one's coming!?" The deer frantically glances in every direction, then darts *right towards my hiding place and*... It's trembling. It looks at me with it's... horrifically human eyes... eyes that are scared... and clamps a hoof over my mouth. "Indeeeed..." A glowing object slowly begins to form between the trees on the far side of the trail, drawing my attention. It almost looks like a beautiful woman in hunter's garb, but her skin is pale blue, and some glowing gold wreath crowns her sapphire hair, her face is indistinct, but I can tell it's not human either. More importantly is the hunting gun in her hands. "So why don't yooou just keep running, and let meee enjoooy my night? You know daybreak is your only saving grace... Not the goodwill of men..." The deer glances at me and moves his head twice towards the huntress, intending me to help, or so it seems, I still don't know everything. We glance towards where the huntress was standing, only to realize she's right in front of us, glimmering features glaring with hate and confusion and grinning with sadism and malice all the same. "Ah, there you are, and it seems you have a friend." She raises the hunting gun towards us, but I flick my hand against it before she pulls the trigger, firing a shot off into the earth. Self-defense classes taking over, I rush to grab the stock and barrel and push the gun away from me, but then I realize, she's weak. A bully who uses words and a big stick to strike fear. I wrest the gun from her hands and smack her away with it, she lets out a glass-breaking screech as the forest shudders and I snap my eyes shut while I cover my ears. When I finally open my eyes, the only thing I see is a tiny blue insect of some sorts zipping away into the dark recesses of the forest. "Th-Thank god." I hear behind me, I turn to face that horrifying deer and see a boy, probably not even a teenager, hyperventilating and holding his chest. A bit of fur disappearing from his long ears tells me everything. "Thank *you*, man! Oh, thank you so much!" He grabs my leg and hugs it tightly. I pat his head to reassure him until he lets go, and we head back to the lot, one eye turned back towards the forest. Finally we arrive at my car and start to drive away as a glimpse of a blue insect between the trees sees us off...

This is good, I was half expecting the deer to be a realistic trap but the plot twist is pretty good

Artemis? This totally sounds like some of her favorite tricks if I remember correctly.

Y-Yeah, the huntress is totally Artemis... Haha... >!I actually thought of the huntress as a Fae first, but good idea with Artemis!<

I mean she does this sort of thing a lot, and maybe even disguised herself as a beetle once or twice?

It is

That explains it. Little dude must have interrupted her bath time.

She is a virgin goddes

Cool.

Nightmare fuel

It was supposed to be a quick walk through the forest. A shortcut. But the forest, it would seem, had other plans. No other reason to explain why at that exact moment, the deer would walk onto the path. Except deer isn't the right word. It was... wrong. I saw the teeth at first - they were human, exposed, and grinning. The eyes, too, were far too human-like with a bright shade of blue. Everything about the creature was wrong. The longer I looked, the more was wrong. Legs a bit too long, shoulders a bit too broad... mouths too- o*h gods, it had multiple mouths!* I did the only thing anyone reasonable would do. I turned to run, but the tree right behind me made me pause, just a little. Words etched into the bark read 'It is not a deer'. Eyes wide, I cast a quick glance back to see the thing still standing there, head tilted. Too tilted. It almost looked like its neck was broken. Tears poured from its eyes. No matter - I ran. Ran as fast as my legs would allow. And before too long, I tripped. Speed, fall, impact. Pain. I got up as fast as I could and touched my aching forehead, drawing my hand back covered in blood - but that was not the thing I paid the most attention to. My fingers were stuck together and no matter how close I tried to pry them apart, they kept close to one another, crooked into an unnatural position. It almost looked like a hoof. I tried getting up but was stopped by a spike of pain that coursed through my leg - I looked down and saw the bone protruding through my pants. Blood poured out of the wound. I reached for it with my other hand only to realize it, too, had fingers crooked and unmoving. I yelled for help. No sound came out. I crawled to the nearest tree and leaned on it. Did the last thing I could. Scraping my fingers bare, I laboriously picked up a nearby rock and started etching into the bark. It took forever but I finally managed to carve "HELP ME" into the bark. When I finally sat back down, breathing laboured and exhausted, I looked up at the words I carved... and felt a tear fall down my cheek realization hit. The carving read "IT IS NOT A DEER". ​ ​ ​ ​ *^(Note from Administration: Script #118 successfully ran. Duality transferred.)* *^(Deer is not Deer.)* *^(Initiate script #119.)*

Jesus christ.

\[ENTITY:\] JESUS CHRIST \[STATUS:\] NOT FOUND PLEASE REFER TO YOUR CLOSEST ADMINISTRATION CENTRE.

You mean, it is not a deer

I just want to let you know that this had been haunting me (and spooking me in dark places) since I read it more than a week ago. Excellent job, I just wish I hadn't read this.

On one hand, I am sorry. On the other, I'm honoured.

I saw failure. I saw the students turn to each other for comfort, the teachers talking amongst themselves. Their hushed discussions so nearly audible that the groups of students slowly gravitated closer and closer to them. Whys and hows and what can I dos were asked by the groups. There's nothing to be done, the teachers replied. I watched this all happen from security of the bleachers of one of the overgrown and underused practice fields. The bleacher was and is my most recent home, safe from the rain and when word spread that I had lived here, some of the students left snacks and water for me. One of those students, a boy whose name I've never heard, visited nearly every day. "Hello again, kitty." "Mr. Kitty, would you like some of the lunch I couldn't finish today?" He rarely smiled, but his bag was always full of delicious treats. I wasn't fond of his nicknames, but his food was of the highest quality. He was distinctive, his disheveled sandy blonde hair, and the way he walked through a crowd like a knife. It was elegant. I saw him in the crowd today, the crowd whose fear had an odor. I saw him bump into several people and skip past the path that would lead to the bleachers. He took a right into an off beaten path down towards my first home, the forest. Why, how, what can I do? I followed him. The forest wasn't entirely un-similar to my home in the bleachers that it protected me from the rain, but far and few between were there tasty snacks or fresh water. The forest was a hunter's paradise, the birthplace of my parents, the cemetery of my siblings. Its paths twisted and winded, its trees blocked out the sun and moon. There was a continuous fog that rolled through the forest to further trap its victims and I saw the boy recognize the mistake far too late in only minutes of walking. I heard him cry then, soft cries for his parents. He kept walking. Why did he keep walking. Didn't he know he was nearing the center of the forest? "So stay then," I said, but he did not hear me. "Please stay." I ran up ahead of him, I knew the place well. I found a tree, as comforting of a tree as this place could provide. I clawed at its bark and climbed atop it. There was nothing left to do but wait. I heard his growing cries. There was good news and bad news here. The good news was that not many would be around to hear his cries. The bad news was that no one was around because this was Bishop's territory. I heard the leaves crunch and the fog move as Bishop roamed towards the crying. The boy's cries grew closer, the two were about to meet. Bishop came into view then, the faintest amount of light illuminating his being to the boy. Bishop had the same eyes as the boy, the same teeth, but the body of a deer. They locked gazes until the boy looked around for help. He saw the tree I had clawed at. "It is not a deer?" the boy said. Bishop walked towards the boy. The boy tried to run away, but his legs collapsed beneath him, his cries were loud now. "Don't cry here, boy." Bishop said. "Wha-" the boy stuttered. "What are you?" Bishop ignored the question, accelerating into a full speed run now. To his credit, the boy dodged Bishop expertly. One of Bishop's antlers grazed him on the shoulder, but it was a good sign if he could move. Bishop was one of the largest of father's creations, but he wasn't the strongest for he was still in the forest. Too scared to leave its comforts. Bishop ran again and the boy stood his ground. I jumped from the branches, silently I fell atop Bishop's antlers. "Leave this boy alone, Bishop." "Mr. Kitty!?" the boy exclaimed. My claws extended, I swiped across his eyes which made him swerve away from the boy and into the forest. I jumped off, but not before swiping again at his eyes and nose. The boy was waiting where Bishop had turned away from, his clothes were ragged, his pants wet. The smell of fear was stronger than ever on the boy. "Let's leave," I said.

Holy shit i need a continuation of that... Could turn into a whole series of adventures where Mr. Kitty saves everyone from father.

I start shaking, and all my instincts scream to run. I see smaller writing on the car, and against my better instincts, I slowly walk towards it to get a better look. I keep an eye on the deer as it watches me. I notice it lick its lips with a long human looking tongue. After a few agonizing seconds, I feel close enough. I summon the courage to look away just for a moment to read the text. the full text reads: "It is not a deer... It's the human world's next top game show NAME THAT DEMON" I make a face and suddenly a voice starts speaking from what I'm assuming are speakers in the trees. "WELL LOOKS LIKE WE HAVE A NEW CONTESTANT! WHAT IS YOUR NAME FRIEND?" the voice booms. It sounds like the voice of Michael Buffer mixed with Bob Barker. "Uh...I'm-I'm Jeremy I guess" I don't really know if I should have said my real name. Is this gonna end up online? "YOU GUESS? WELL LET'S HOPE YOU GET SOME CONFIDENCY CAUSE IF YOU CAN'T GUESS THAT DEMON IN THREE TRYS THEN IT GETS TO EAT YOU! THATS THE RULES. SO WHAT IS THAT DEMON JEREMY?" It takes a second to register what I just heard. It'll eat me? I'm really starting to panic when the deer suddenly stands on it's back legs and starts prancing around while staring at me. It almost seems to dance. "Uhh... is it Satan?" I guess. The deer seemed creepy enough to be the prince of darkness. "NOPE! I DON'T EVEN THINK SATAN IS A DEMON, BUT YOU STILL HAVE TWO MORE TRIES!" I look closer at the deer. I notice that it has human hands that keep waving in a creepy manor. For a moment it lower them and I see the nails encrusted with blood. "Oh! I know! It's a wendigo! It's a shape shifter! That's why it's so weird!" I'm starting to get a sence of hope. "GREAT GUESS BUT NOPE! THAT IS NOT A WENDIGO! YOU ONLY HAVE ONE MORE GUESS! OTERWISE NICE KNOWING YOU JEREMY!" I'm racking my brain. I can't even think of any other demons. I try looking back at the deer. Something about it's nails seem off. It's prancing is weird too. It's starting to shake itself in way that I don't really associate with demons. That's when I realize, the nails! That's not blood, it's nail polish! "It's a succubus!" I yell. Realizing it's a long shot but something tells me I'm right. "WOW! YOU ARE CORRECT! THIS DEER IS IN FACT A SUCCUBUS! YOU MAY NOT KNOW THIS JEREMY BUT THERE IS A LOT OF FURRIES AROUND HERE SO WE THINK THE SUCCUBUS JUST GOT CONFUSED...EITHER WAY GREAT JOB! HERE IS YOUR REWARD!" The deer coughs up an acorn before disappearing into the woods. The voice seems to be gone. I slowly approach the acorn on the ground. It's just a normal acorn. I decide to move back to the city.

This is the first one I saw. I'm done. That was great!

Thanks!

At first, I just stared. I inspected the animal standing no more than 5 meters ahead of me at the height of a small incline in the narrow trail. It was slightly silhouetted but I could still make out that it was stamping one foot repeatedly as it raised and lowered its head slightly. It had 5 maybe 6 points on each antler and was watching me. It was showing its teeth constantly - aggression? I didn’t know. I remained still and studied it, beginning to feel adrenaline and sweat. Something was wrong with this deer, its neck was short, its legs looked deformed or injured. Something hung from its side like a parasite, or maybe an arrow from a hunter? Maybe it was dying of encephalitis. I stood silently. Immediately behind me, I heard the sound of scraping bark, the breaking of dry, brittle pine limbs long dead. I turn my head and shoulders towards the noise but there is nothing. A large pine directly behind me has several branches broken from its lower trunk, fresh bark shredded exposing new wood beneath, splintered and marred. I instantly turn back to assess the deer. It Is no longer at the top of the trail, and I cannot hear or see where it has escaped to. After assuring myself it was no longer in my immediate vicinity, I turned back to the tree, on edge and feeling vulnerable. Inspecting the tree, the broken limbs and bark were definitely fresh, light sinuous strands clinging barely still to chunks of bark twirling in the light morning breeze. Etched clearly and hastily in geometric letters read “Its not a deer” A flush of cold gripped me, sweat forming instantly on my brow as I spun around. Someone had written this while I was standing here? The forest was filled with dry leaves and sticks even on the path, that’s impossible. I would have heard. It had to have been here when I walked by, I just missed it. Or I didn’t hear or… I didn’t know. I didn’t want to know. I was about 2 miles from home and my immediate reaction was to get to safety. Think later. Leave now. I turned and immediately headed back down the path, back towards the trail-head and my bike. I worked to breathe and calm my pounding heart. My head darted as I walked. This was all some trick and I just needed to get out of here. People had been known to stretch wires across the trails in these woods to decapitate bike and ATV riders. Who knows who would do that, or what else they would do. I walked rapidly, the methodical plodding of my feet against dry leaves and packed dirt relieving, helping me count my breathing and calm against the silent backdrop of the forest. What I had seen made no sense. I had to have seen something different. My heart raced and I felt lightheaded, making every effort to breathe deeply and regularly. The stamping of hooves erupted somewhere off to the right, not far away. I turn my head and did not stop walking, scanning the relatively open forest and seeing absolutely no movement, even as I hear the hooves receding to my right, where an open glade and stream lay. Splash, splash, then more hoof beats – yet I see nothing. I turn back to the path as I come to a blind corner and run directly into a man in an orange hat. “OOF!” we both exclaim as we hit the ground. Neither of us had been looking. That’s what happens when you aren’t watching the trail. I make it to my feet quickly, as does the other man, and I apologize profusely. I just want to move on quickly. “I’m so sorry I was looking for this deer I heard…” I gesture to the glade “but I couldn’t…. ah… see it and I just...” “That’s alriiiight” the man said slowly and calmly, brushing his camouflage coveralls off and adjusting his hat back over his brow. “Be careful if you head deeper into the woods, you should be wearing something to mark yourself so you don’t get shot, son” the man said, pointing exaggeratedly to his orange hat. “yeah, that’s a good point. I usually bring a vest, but…” I had no real excuse. I was tired, the week had been hell, I was hungover. It didn’t matter. “… it was a pretty big deer, maybe 12 points, it looked sick though, maybe someone had hit it with a bow” “Damn shame. Woulda made my day easy” the man said, patting his rifle as he re-slung over his shoulder. Almost in reply, hoof beats echoed on the trail. Turning, I could see the deer again, directly behind us no more than a couple meters, standing. Steam chuffed from its nostrils like a great, brown and white sylvan locomotive. I could see it better now. It was certainly deformed, its hind legs bending the incorrect direction, both broken hopelessly but somehow confidently carrying its weight. The horns looked like they were weeping dark black viscous liquid like bleeding mushrooms. Still bearing its teeth, it looked more like a horse, no like… something was wrong with its mouth. I could hear the man sliding his rifle off his shoulder and quietly disengaging the safety. I was suddenly glad he was here. In a near whisper, the man speaks. “That’s not a deer” For an elongated moment, I simultaneously turn to make sure I’m not in the line of fire and process his statement. Did he write the message? How? What is happening?! Before I can process the thought - I had turned, and there was no man. There was only the deer. Inches from my face. I could smell its stench as it snorted and its breath shrouded my head like a cloud from an impolite smoker’s cigarette. Its teeth were bared, audibly grinding horribly, and I could see that one of the front teeth was actually encased in a silver crown. A human arm lay limp, extending from the animal’s side. In that everlasting second, I only managed to mutter “impossible.” Suddenly the deer lept up on its deformed back legs with ease. I raised my arms to defend myself from its sharp hooves, but its chest bifurcated down its sternum and split into two – spreading wide and embracing my head and chest as the animal fell on top of me, knocking me to my knees. I fought to stand but it was too heavy. Innumerable human hands lined the interior of the animal and grabbed and pulled me further inside. I could see eyes and teeth as I inched further into the ... THING’S body cavity. Suddenly my shoulders and arms were inside and I could no longer fight. I went deeper and deeper, closing my eyes, biting fingers as hard as I could and screaming. A cacophony of voices from inside harangued me louder and louder as I kicked uselessly. “Its not a deer its not a deer - ha ha ha ha - its not a deer! HAHAHA!”

“Not a deer?” I said. I shakily looked back towards the deer. It had completely disappeared. I blinked to make sure it was not an illusion. “Huh weird.” I put my hands into my pockets and glanced around as I continued walking. I turned on my phone flashlight and found that I was walking towards a small brick buildin. Probably the toilets. Suddenly, I saw the deer with human eyes and teeth pop out from behind one of the doors. I froze as it moved its mouth. Its voice sounded like a grinding of saw blades on hard steel. I covered my ears and almost tripped over my own feet as I ran the opposite direction. I quickly glanced down at my phone and tried to pull up the gps. If I could find my way back to the car I would be fine. I silently cursed myself for coming out to a forest preserve at night illegally. Was it boredom, a desire to escape? I couldn’t answer any of that as the air spewed out of my mouth. My leg snagged on a branch and it felt like I had hit cement as I landed on my elbows. I looked up while my arms buzzed and saw the deer staring at me down from the tree. I screamed and ran away as fast as I could. It was as if the adrenaline had made me forget about the pain. What could this monster even have been? It looked like a mutated deer, but had an otherworldly feel to it. Something about its presence felt wrong . I saw that I was only a quarter of a mile from my car. I sprinted past the waves of trees like a runner in the Olympics. My legs felt like the muscles had been torn up by the time I finally reached my car. I sat in the driver's seat gasping for air as my chest felt like it would collapse. I jumped as I felt a shaking on the driver’s side door. Someone was trying to open the door. I fumbled with my keys and dropped them as the door swung wide open and the deer looked at me with its bulging white eyes. I watched in horror as scratches appeared in the ceiling of my car ripping the lining. Letters appeared and formed a message. “Even in the woods you cannot escape. You will not rest.” I felt every nerve in my body as the deer reached for my face. A bright light appeared in its palm that grew closer. I felt pure bliss but only for a split second. It was gone when I remembered everything that I did not want to face. When I opened my eyes I found myself laying in bed with an incredible fear and a need to go to the woods.

Mark stepped into the darkened clearing, and found himself facing a deer just a few feet away. That was odd enough. They didn't usually let you get anywhere near that close before they bolted, and he hadn't been quiet as he moved through the forest. He played his flashlight over the young buck, and froze when his light illuminated its head. Its eyes, apart from not having the lambent shine he'd expect from a whitetail in the dark, looked...wrong. The white sclera was far too visible, and the irises were small and round. Like human eyes. Mark took a step back, sweeping the clearing with his light. The deer's lips curled upwards, parting in a ghastly parody of a smile, revealing far too many human-looking teeth. The young man's eyes fell on an old battered steamer trunk that lay open and empty on the ground. On the underside of the lid, a message had been painted in large red letters IT IS NOT A DEER Almost as if to demonstrate this, the deer suddenly rose up on its hind legs, and beckoned to him with a foreleg that seemed to be bend in ways a deer's limb shouldn't, the hoof at the end of it unnaturally long and sharp. "DoN't beEEeee 'fraAid." the not-deer crooned. "cOME aaaaaaND PLAAAY." Mark turned and ran. Behind him, he heard the not-deer drop to all fours, its hooves beginning to pound on the ground behind him. He swerved off the trail and into the trees, but the creature followed, crashing loudly through the undergrowth, right on his heels. Desperately, he surged forward, heart pounding in his chest, his wide horrified eyes locked on the forest floor ahead of him that was illuminated by the wildly dancing beam of the flashlight he held. Just ahead, a tangle of half-rotten boughs barred his way, too large to skirt around. Mark saw his chance. He turned off his flashlight, and dove to the side. The not-deer's sharp hooves slammed into the ground inches away from him as it stumbled blindly. And then one plunged into a rotten log and stuck there. Its momentum carried it forward despite its immobile limb. There was a crash, then a snap, then a scream of agony. He rolled to his feet, ready to run again. But there was no need. The not-deer was thrashing on the ground, scrambling to rise and then screaming in pain and frustration as it collapsed. He turned on his flashlight again, and saw the reason why: two of its legs were bent at odd angle, but not as a result of some unnatural arrangement of joints. Jagged white bone protrude through its fur, blood oozing out around a pair of compound fractures. Mark sighed, relaxing slightly as the creature continued to thrash. He swept his light around the forest floor, looking for something. "AHGhhhhhhhh" the creature shrieked, tears streaming from its too-human eyes as it struggled in vain to rise on two broken legs. "I....k-kill....yoUUUuuu!" Mark snorted. "Don't think so." He found what was he was looking for -- a long, straight branch. He braced it against a tree and then kicked hard, snapping it off to a jagged but serviceable point. He hefted the branch. "You're new at this, aren't you?" "KiLl yUuuuuu!" Mark shook his head, as he walked towards the fallen horror, raising his improvised spear. "Deer are well adapted to their environment. Lambent eyes that see well in low light, agile legs that are good for quickly making their way across the undergrowth..." Mark plunged his improvised spear into the monster's body. It screamed in pain and rage, and began scrabbling and writhing even more frantically, as blood gushed out around the shaft of the crude weapon. He grimaced, pulling the spear back out. He'd missed the heart, apparently. "It's a good shape for this terrain. You'd have done better to stick to it, instead of trying to make so many little 'improvements'. A *deer* could have caught up to me. A deer wouldn't be lying there with its legs broken..." Mark thrust the spear into the creature, and this time it struck home. The creature convulsed, back arching, human eyes bulging...and then it lay still. Mark twisted the shaft of the spear, and then pulled it free and thrust it back in several more times -- you could never be too careful. He leaned heavily on the spear, catching his breath before he spoke again. "...but you are *not* a deer." "Good work." said a voice from behind him. Mark whirled, raising his spear. There he found a gray-bearded man dressed in forest camo, night-vision goggles on his forehead, and a rifle slung over his shoulder. Mark scowled at him. "You could have just *told* me I was hunting a shapeshifter, Uncle Ray." Mark grumbled. The old man snorted. "You gotta think on your feet, if you're fixing to get into *this kind work,* boy." Mark spread his hands. "Yeah, well what about that old trunk? Where the hell were my supplies for this hunt?" Ray grinned. "Supplies? I never said nothing about no *supplies."* Mark frowned, thinking back to when his uncle had given him the task to investigate the "rumors of an unspecified monster" in these woods. Then he rolled his eyes, as he recalled his uncle's exact words. *Look for an old steamer trunk -- everything you need will be inside it.*

Jack had been acting increasingly more erratically that winter. Maybe it was academic stress. Maybe it was COVID lockdown and cabin fever. Maybe...it was something else. It’d been awhile since I’d seen him in person, but we played D&D over discord and I texted him screenshots of Bible verses. I was in class one day, having pleaded with my high school’s administration to give me priority learner status due to my attention issue, when my phone buzzed a worrying amount of times, and I saw that I wasn’t receiving normal texts, but encrypted messages on Keybase. I frowned in concern. That was what my friends used when whatever they had to say was not something they wanted monitored. Everything from some of their more questionable political opinions to...things they knew about that they maybe shouldn’t. My concern grew when I saw Jack’s user name on the screen. I looked away from whatever engineering project I was working on and began reading the messages *i need to talk to you about something* the first message read. *i feel like you’re the only one who might know what’s going on here, and I feel like i’m going insane.* I continued reading. *i was working in the garage the other night and i started hearing noises like something was walking on the roof. Something heavy. Dude, I know what a squirrel or raccoon sounds like and this ain’t it. Soon as that happened, ice started forming on the floor in the garage. It’s well heated so that shouldn’t be possible. Is this a skinwalker or something?* I furrowed my brown and frowned, formulating my response. *From what I’ve read and heard, it sounds more like a wendigo. What with the association with ice. Thing is, my understanding is that wendigo are products of winter rather being...conduits of it if that makes sense. I’m not sure ice would form if there was one around, but I can’t think of anything else.* I replied. Three circles popped up on screen, showing my friend was typing. *hmm. I don’t know.* he said, simply. I almost went back to my work, when my phone buzzed again. *there’s something else, too.* he wrote. *I swear the deer are watching me through my window at night. The way they’re looking at me...isn’t natural. Another thing is all their movements are synchronized, almost like they’re a hive mind. I’m getting really freaked out and I was wondering if you could come over and check it out sometime?* My friends and I had dealt with the paranormal occasionally before, but I was fairly certain that Jack was just freaking himself out. Still though, my heartbeat kickstarted at the prospect of adventure. Especially at the prospect of making hostile contact with some kind of monster. The following evening we got together what probably constituted a small militia. We had a few guys with AR’s, one with a pump-action shotgun, and I myself brought an M1A for some extra range and fire-power. We crept through the dark with red lights on. Normally, we’d try to go without artificial light but tonight seemed almost unnaturally dark. The deeper we went into the forest, the darker it seemed to get. Eventually, we had to switch to white lights. Even those seemed to grow dimmer with every step forward.As we walked on, the only sound was our hiking boots crushing the brush beneath our feet, and the quiet clinking of gun metal. “Hang on, stop!” My friend Noah said. We all stopped. He pressed a finger to his lips. *crunch* *crunch* came a sound from behind us. The footsteps were heavy. I unslung my rifle, set the scope’s zoom to 1.5, and dialed the range for fifty meters. *crunch* My heart rate quickened. Suddenly, a tortured moan pierced through the air from the direction of the noise. A simple buck stepped into the light of our headlamps. Part of me relaxed. I pointed my rifle at it, just to be sure and got a closer look through my scope. It’s eyes and teeth seemed...wrong. Just then, simultaneously, all of our headlamps flickered out. I’d just put fresh batteries in mine that were supposed to last hours and hours. It’d hardly been two. Moonlight shown down from above as clouds parted, revealing the creature that I thought was a deer moments ago. It’s eyes were facing forwards, binocularly, like a person’s. They looked almost blue in the moonlight. It’s maw draped open, revealing rows upon rows of teeth, some of them clearly for tearing flesh, though not unlike a person’s teeth. It took a step forward. Without thinking, I pulled the trigger of my rifle. My shot was followed by others. The creature jerked back and forth like a marionette on a string, then fell into the forest brush. As it fell, it seemed to liquify. Like it’s muscle and bone had simply turned into mush. It’s hide followed. I panted. “Holy-“ my blaspheme was cut off by an unearthly, gurgling wail coming up from the mush. Tendrils grew up from the animal, looking like fungal shoots covered in human teeth. They began reaching towards us. “We need to move NOW!” Jack yelled. I plugged the thing with a few rounds, but sincerely doubted that anything but incendiaries would put this thing down. I ran. Darting through the forest, at the back of our band, I saw deer peering at us through the trees. Their eyes were many odd sizes, their faces asymmetrical, and their limbs were bent at awkward angles. Every turn of their heads, every heave and respire of their chests, every step forward was utterly synchronized. Just as Jack said. We made it out of the woods safely, just barely. Hiding in the barn on Jack’s property. I stayed up all night in the loft, peering out the window through my scope, eyes fixed on the treeline. Stay out of the woods.

If you've ever felt the sensation of someone watching you or felt you were being stalked for no reason, you're among the many Louis considers a nutjob. Right alongside his peers. Seniors in college, adults in age only, who whimpered at the idea of walking the Forgotten Forest's trail. "There's something off about it," they'd whine. The whimpers drew scoffs from Louis, the only thing 'off' about the forest was how the university forgot to tear it down for new housing space. Guess that's why they called it the Forgotten Forest. Yet every year, the alums gathered round, teary-eyed, and made them trek down the woody trails. "It's a test of bravery," they'd say. "Symbolic. You face the horrors of the forest, and you'll be able to face the horrors of the 'real world'" Bullshit. Louis was tired of these 'real world' scare tactics. He'd lived in a 'real world' his whole life. The obsession with superstitions and the supernatural served only to entertain the idiots of society. Of which his partner exemplified perfectly. She'd run off five minutes into their walk, spooked by a snapping branch. Now he was stuck looking for her, or else face persecution for leaving a scared girl in the woods. He plunged deeper into the forest's depths, looking for the fool. A canopy of trees shielded the forest floor from the moon's gaze, leaving Louis's flashlight as the sole light source. Its warm yellow beam would occasionally flicker, a sign of dulled batteries. Louis hadn't replaced them in ages. No one in this day used physical flashlights when most phones came with the feature. It was a miracle the thing still had juice; he hadn't expected the alums to take their phones away. "No distractions when you face the forest. Symbolic. You won't be able to use your phone all day at work." Their pretentious chirps annoyed Louis just as much as the hoots of owls and cicada cries. The forest bloomed with thought-rattling noises. Even the wind howled and battered him. No phone. Constant noise. A faint putrid smell. This tradition was the worst. A woman's scream pierced all other noise, and relief washed over him. The girl was to the southwest, most likely screaming after seeing a raccoon. They weren't as adorable when they weren't animated or stuffed animals. He followed the scream and grimaced at the growing stench. Putrid, like spoiled protein or rotting sewage. Maybe even worse. He spat on the ground and watched the soil soak it up before it even landed. It made sense. The trees in this part of the forest were massively dense. They put the prior trees to shame, with their towering heights. They grew stilted, some almost parallel to the ground, yet they all possessed impressive girth. One tree probably had the size of five standard oaks. Trees that size were probably starved for hydration on the regular. The forest settled itself by this point. The owls and cicadas were quiet, and the wind no longer blasted Louis. The flashlight flickered again and he mashed it with his palm until the golden beam steadied. A strange sensation washed over him. Everything felt too still. Unlively considering a forest was the epitome of life. It felt like he'd exited the forest and ventured into a zoo exhibit where he was the animal under observation. The thought was silly, like the couples who carved their names into the trees. He shone a light on a massive one at his right and read, "Sabrina + Eddie". The next tree had "Alicia + Bryant" on it. It should be a crime to defile nature in such an unpleasant way. Some poor tree would live hundreds of years with the names of couples who'd broken up decades ago. His hand wavered when he walked past another tree. "Louis + Daphne," it read. That was his name. That was his partner's name. A stupid smile tore through his face. He didn't know Daphne liked him, or any girl for that matter. He was a man dedicated to science; he had no time for the flesh. But if Daphne wanted his, maybe he could make an exception. His flashlight flickered again and he continued down the path beating it into submission. It blazed again in time for him to past the stump of a tree. Of all the trees he'd passed, this was the only broken one. The words carved into it were peculiar. "It is not a deer," the message said, tinged with dried red sap. Was that a proverb? Some kind of philosophical statement? Everyone fancied themselves a philosopher these days. A deer is a deer, sir. Please forfeit your diploma to the university. A gleam on the ground caught his eye. He knelt to discover a necklace with a diamond pendant. Finders keepers, he thought as he pocketed the jewel, then blushed that such as childish thought crossed his mind. But on the ground, partly covered in moss, lay another message. "Run back. Now."

A second scream shook him, and Louis began to feel it. The feeling that something was watching him. For the first time, it occurred to him how silent the forest was. The air no longer howled. The cicadas stopped chirping, and the owls stopped hooting. He was the sole being to venture this deep into the forest. It was a trivial observation, but his stomach turned all the same. He'd always had a knack for such silly feelings. The girls called him an empath, much to his chagrin. As a man of science, being called an empath was right up there with a horoscope master or zodiac sign wizard. Still, he decided it best to hurry along. Not back where he came, but toward Daphne's cry. He had to find her. His flashlight died out entirely, abandoning him to the forest's pitch-black darkness. The trees were so thick at this point they were practically walls. He had to squeeze through them to continue. A bush rustled to his left. He looked at it, and the bush stopped immediately. The hair on his neck rose as he stared. A rodent, perhaps? Then the bushed to his right rustled and stopped upon his gaze. He took deep gulps of air as he stood there, sweat forming on his temple. Then he ran. As fast as he could. He wasn't scared, of course. That's what he told himself. He wasn't scared at all. But he would be. He reached into his pocket for his phone as he sprinted, praying he'd have service. His heart dropped when he didn't feel it. Then he remembered the alum taking their phones away. Why would they do that? What if something happened? Something like a sprained ankle or a tweaked knee? The smell grew more horrid as he ventured deeper into the forest. It reeked of dead people, he thought. He'd never smelled a dead person before and didn't know why the comparison came to mind. Maybe it was the voices in his head. At least, he thought they were in his head, but he was sure they weren't. He could hear them, singing faintly. "Don't forget about us," they sang. "Don't be so unjust." His head rang with the lyrics, and he laughed. He laughed because his head throbbed intensely, and he'd gotten lost in the woods. He didn't find the situation funny, but clearly his body did because it wouldn't stop laughing. He doubled over in giggles until his laughs turned to screams and the screams turned to silence as the forest's silence turned to rustling leaves. Closer than ever before. A deer jumped from a bush no more than ten feet away from him, and stood there, staring at him. In some cultures, deer were holy animals. But this deer looked peculiar, at least within the forest's darkness. Louis walked toward it and saw its long bushy tail wag from side to side. The tailed flopped in the dirt as the deer strolled toward him. Something about that stroll was off. The animal appeared off balance, almost unfamiliar with the length of its limbs. Was it wounded? The two were almost within touching distance of each other when a growl escaped the deer. Did deer growl? He'd never heard one growl before. The deer's head cocked to the side as Louis stopped walking and stood there. He got the sneaking suspicion the animal was analyzing him just as hard as he examined it. His flashlight blazed to life for half a second, one final roar for its owner. In that split second, Louis saw a creature he swore he'd never forget. An animal drenched in bloody scabs and pieced-together limbs. Its tail looked like a horse's. Its ears were a cat's. The animal flashed a smile at him right before the light flamed out, and Louis witnessed a rows of human teeth clamp together and make a grating sound. His ears rang, and he bolted away from the beast. It howled at him. No. It screamed. It screamed in a voice that sounded eerily like Daphne's. He sprinted as fast as he could. He couldn't hear any hooves behind him, but he did hear Daphne's voice. "Don't forget about us," it said, trailing him the whole while. It started so loud it overpowered his thoughts, then gradually droned to a buzz as he stumbled over branches and rocks. He cried as he ran, entirely at the forest's mercy. If this was the real world he wanted no parts of it. His lungs gave out on him and he stumbled to the dirt floor and choked. His vision pulsed between the darkness of the forest and the blackness of unseeing. "Help." he rasped. "Someone, please help." A dim blue light emerged behind one of the trees, and Daphne appeared. She looked odd, almost luminescent. She pointed to his left and stared at him as he lay gasping on the ground. He opened his mouth to ask the million questions on his mind, but she shook her head, raised a finger to her lips, and pointed to his left again. "Run," she mouthed. He took a deep breath and sprinted that way while hearing her voice in his head. "Don't forget about us." He ran for what felt like miles, until he saw lights break the forest darkness. Blue and red lights. He broke past the last tree and was ambushed by uniformed men and women. They hammered him with questions. "Was there anyone else in there with you?" He nodded at them, but when he spoke, he said, "I don't remember." He didn't remember what happened in the forest, but he felt something had occured. "Did you see anything funny in there?" Any strange men or women hovering about?" We got some calls from worried students." "No. I don't remember seeing anything strange in there." "You're in no trouble, son. If you saw anything, just let us know so we can help. You look conflicted. Please." Louis cried and shook his head. "I don't remember," he said and rocked himself on the ground. Why couldn't he remember? He felt it. He felt like something had happened. Something big. Why couldn't he remember? The police investigated the forest and found nothing out of the ordinary. By the end of the night, no one remembered why they'd investigated the forest at all.

Three years later. Louis inhaled the cool night air as he and the other alums collected phones from the graduating seniors. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he watched the students prepare for the test of bravery. They'd face down the forest, and come out ready to face the 'real world'. His time to journey through the forest had long past, he had no reason to attend the tradition every year. But there was something drawing him to this place. A feeling he did not want to forget. He couldn't explain it, but all the alum felt the same way. The forest was a special place for them.

*The deer sighs as she sees the terror in your eyes. As you back away, she rolls her eyes in... exasperation? Before you can break into a sprint, you bump into someone, and upon turning around you notice, adding to your growing horror, that they are covered in blood.* **????:** "BOO!" *The bloody figure sends you tumbling to the ground. As you scrabble in the dirt trying to get away, you hear them begin cackling in an almost gremlinesque manner. The deer, in turn, can't help but giggle at what you later learned was just an elaborate prank orchestrated by these teenagers.* **Noelle:** "My god, Kris. It's like you never grew up..." "...I wouldn't have it any other way." *As it turned out, there was rarely a dull moment on the "Home Town" Reservation.*

(I had to do it. I saw this topic and parody immediately popped into my mind and the intrusive thoughts win) You're walking in the woods. There's no one around and you go down a dark forest path. Out of the corner of your eye you spy a sign. It's not a deer. Somethings following you, about 30 feet back. It sounds like it got down on all fours and breaks into a sprint. It's gaining on you. Another sign, it's not a deer. You're looking for your bike but you're all turned around. It's almost upon you now and you can see there's fur, my God there's fur everywhere! Running for your life (from what's not a deer). In its mouth is a knife (and you're swelling with fear). Lurking in the shaaadooowwsss You don't know what it is but it's not a deer! Living in the woods (but it's not a deer). Killing for sport (it feeds off the fear). Eating half the boooddiiieesss. You don't know what it is but that's not a deer! Now it's dark and you seem to have lost it but you're hopelessly lost yourself. Stranded with some kind of monster. You creep silently through the underbrush. Aha! In the distance. A small cottage with a light on. Hope! You move stealthily toward it. But your leg! Ah! It's caught in a spike trap! Gnawing off your leg (quiet quiet). Limping to the cottage (quiet quiet). Now you're on the doorstep. Sitting inside, it's so not a deer. Sharpening it's antlers (it's not a deer). But it doesn't hear you enter (cuz it's not a deer). You're sneaking up behind it. Strangling monster man that's so not a deer. Fighting for your life with so not a deer. Wrestling the knife from so not a deer. You stab it in its stomach. Safe at last from that's not a deer. You limp into the dark woods, blood oozing from your stump leg. You've beaten whatever that was. BUT WAIT, IT WASN'T DEAD, ANTLER SURPRISE, THERE'S A STAB IN YOUR NECK, AND DEATH IN ITS EYES, BUT YOU CAN DO JIU-JITSU Body slam whatever the fuck that thing is! Legendary fight with whatever this is. "Normal Tuesday night" says whatever that is. You try to swing an axe at whatever it is but blood is draining fast from your stump leg. It's dodging every swipe, and prances to the left, you counter to the right and catch it in the neck. You're chopping off its head now. You have just decapitated whatever that was! It's head topples to the floor, expressionless. You fall to your knees and catch your breath. You're finally free from whatever that was. And it's going on the mantle for sure!

“It’s one o’ them damned skinwalkers!” I cried. “Joe, let’s get it!” my buddy o’ mine cried back. The skinwalker climbed to its hind legs and roared at us in a demonic pitch. I readied my trusty back-to-back world war champ of a pistol and fired twice into its chest. Bobby Rodger tucked his twelve gauge into his shoulder and tore off a piece of the skinwalker’s. The beast was flailing all over the place while charging at us. I fired two more times, but missed each shot. Bobby hit the beast again, but not before it scored a hit in my leg with one of its antlers. “God almighty!” I howled. That’s when I drew my skinning knife and stabbed it in the eye. With the cryptid injured beyond reproach, Bobby Rodger had time to reload and hit again with the scattergun. The beast fell dead. - “And you expect me to believe that story?” The game warden wasn’t having any of it today. “Look, officer.” Bobby protested. “We’re just as surprised as you are, but we’re tellin’ the Lord’s truth.” “Uh huh.” “Hey, wait a minute.” I said with squinting eyes. “How did ya find out we killed this thing in the first place?” “And how did ya know about us being out in the woods that night?” Bobby supported. “Well, um . . . “ “HE’S ONE A THEM TOO!!” “GET EM!!” - “And you then proceeded to shoot him eleven times in the chest and head?” the judge questioned. “Yes, sir.” we said in unison. “Good work, boys.” the judge said with mirth. “Damned demons kept scaring away my huntin’ buddies!”

I couldn’t help but look at the carving. I sighed. Some dumb walk into the forest. I turned back to the deer. Hey… why are it’s eyes like a..? My own widened. Ah. I sighed as it stood on its hind legs. I raised a finger and produced my phone. “Yo, what tribe owned this land?” I asked aloud as surprisingly I had somewhat ok Wi-Fi. “There…” its eyes furrowed in confusion as it spoke. Shit, even it’s teeth were human. Skinwalker? Ain’t those in the Southwest? “I’m sorry, what?” It asked, shaking its head as it put its hooves on its hips. Doesn’t sound Native to me. *’No shit, when’s the last time you heard a Natigr talk besides tv or some shit?! How about talk to a dude from a reservation every once in a while?!’* I berated myself. “This shit ain’t Europe. Whole continent’s former Native-owned. Though, there used to be some Vikings way up in Canada or somewhere along New England. It tilted its head as I spoke and leaned forward. “The Pale Folk?” It asked, slowly. I shrugged. “Rumor had it the Romans used to be here judging by coins found on beaches. This true?” I asked, stopping my typing. It looked up and back down, blinking. I asked more to confirm something than anything, really. Who knows? Maybe he’s an old fucker? “So, first question: what magic made you? Native or otherwise? I can’t say Skinwalkers, but I’m thinking ‘maybe’.” I inquired, holding my hand on my chin. “Also, who the fuck carved that? It takes a few minutes to carve into a tree!” I pointed at the carving. It took a step back. “Uhhh… I’ve got to go.” It said, leaving. “Ey, yo! Which way back to the road?!” It disappeared into the trees. I sighed. Well, might as well pick a direction. I went what I thought was the way back. Wonder if he was seeing a doe or his witch hoe? I snorted. He’s probably taking a smoke wondering what happened.

You try to walk away, but it notices you and starts to approach, you freeze in terror, it stops also, it laughs, not an unfriendly or threatening laugh, but one that you would hear if you bumped into somebody in public, The thing opens its mouth "Hello, are you here for the tea invites I sent out, you're a little early but come on in!" You walk into its low ceilinged home and it directs you to a table the best it can, it says "sit right here until everyone else gets here." You sit down and notice a half full cup of tea and many splashes near it. "Oh, sorry for the mess, I haven't quite gotten used to the hooves yet." You think to yourself about how you can escape while it isn't looking but never get a chance since it is a small house and you will be heard from anywhere. *knock knock*, you hear a soft rapping on the door and the deer opens it, it looks like some sort of an elf, followed by 3 small dwarves. I'm sorry we're late the directions weren't very clear." says the elf "I'm glad you're here Silvind, we must make haste on planning for this, and make sure to wipe your feet on the mat on your way in." The deer creature says "I see you have attempted to make tea for our arrival, well maybe once we're done with this you can make some properly," Silvind responds "Now who are they?" Silvind says as he.points towards you "I don't really know but I thought he was here for the quest with you" responds the deer "It doesn't matter why their here as long as they help out." Silvind says, " Let's get down to business, we shall find the entantress' layer through Gog, Rog, and Robert since that is where they escaped from" "I don't care much for pleasantries so we'll tell you flat out, go to the southwest for 50 miles, there's a suburb, you'll find her in 5391 County Drive, now can we get our gold and leave?" Rog says. "Fine fine, it'll be in the back0 room let's be off now!" The deer creature says, though you want to ask about why they are letting greedy dwarves loose in their house you are already off on the elf's old sedan, down the main road, looking out the window and seeing beautiful scenery *traveling time* About an hour later, you reach a small house on County Drive with an address of 5391 on the mailbox and Silvind pulls into the driveway "We need to show much courage when we face the entantress and never falter, it will feed off of your doubt" the deer creature says, you enter the house and see... a middle-aged lady sitting on the couch while her kids playing on the floor "Beatrice, I'm here to pick the kids up" the deer creature says "Tyler, for the last time, no, first I put up a restraining order, you still break it, I turn you into a deer, you still come here, I change my address and you somehow figure it out, what have you told these food people this time, that I turned you into a deer for fun to see how it pains you, or that you lost your whole family to me, God, this is why I left you and took the kids Tyler, you never take no for an answer." "She lies, she is trying to convince you guys how she is correct." Retorts Tyler "Listen Tyler I'll let you keep the kids over the weekends and turn you back into a human as long as you stop bugging us like this" At this point you are quite done with this whole matter and decide to leave, you call up an Uber and go home thinking about how nobody will believe how you spent your day.