The White Stag

A short horror story of a man trying to hunt down a local legend.

There have always been stories about the north woods. 
Weird lights, strange noises people disappearing, bodies found chewed and dismembered. Its a large area, people go hunting and get lost all the time, they fall get stuck in the bog, and coyotes take advantage of the poor sap who couldn’t find his way out before he fell to some mundane fate from the unforgiving wench that is nature. Although growing up in the area we always heard so many ghost stories, yet every year a few people would hunt out there for deer. Every year someone would come back with a massive deer and stories of seeing an elusive white Buck. Larger than anything they had ever see. 15 feet tall snow white and a rack of antlers that look as if a tree was sprouting from its head. This is has to be a myth, drunk hunters spreading around an old folk tales, hell my Grandfather talked of the “Great White Stag” This creature must be a hundred years old. As I grew older the stories were still there but they didn’t stick in my head like they used to. Once I was old enough to hunt I grew anxious of the thought of going in the north woods, out of fear and excitement. It was a kind of rite of honor to get a deer from there. Not everyone could do it, but a lot tried. Either scared off by the quiet spookiness or voices some say they hear. Either way, I was going to go in there. 
I wanted to prove my worth, I wanted to prove them wrong that there is nothing to be afraid of.  Most of all, I wanted to see the stag for myself. I want to bring home his head.

I am standing on the edge of the forest. A Thick damp and dark place. It has a perpetual inky blackness that will snuff out any warmth of a hot day. Its Daunting standing here now. As the trees tower over me, and the earthy smell of mud and moss emanates from the forest with a cool breeze. I look for an opening. I grip my bow, a gift from my father as a sort of way of bonding with me during my parents crumbling marriage. It gave us something to do together, we would target shoot for hours, till my fingers and arms were like jelly. Some say he was a victim of the forest, but I know he had enough of my mother and hit the road.
I see a brake in the bramble, an animal path. Its too worn to see any prints but its the opening I need. 
I plunge into its depths ready for what awaits. I walk softly avoiding stepping on leaves and branches. I stand still a moment to let my eyes adjust.  There is still a cool breeze I notice.. Odd.
As my surroundings start to take shape I step slowly again, and start walking with guile along the weathered path. 
Besides the path there isn’t any sign of life. Not the chirp of a bird, or rustle of small animal life, not even the soft hum of insects.
Just an overwhelming quite. A hush. The kind of silence you feel obligated to adhere to. Out of respect, and fear of punishment. Like a walk though a mausoleum of roots, bark, leaves and stone.
My every step seemed to echo, no matter how soft.  
The trees had a weird way with the noises, making my footsteps sound like they were coming from behind me, ahead of me and even above me. 
I can see how someone might get disoriented out here. I could see how people could think they hear voices.. Noises travel. They distort among these living towers of wood
The trees acted as pillars to hold of the impenetrable canopy. It felt as though I was indoors. A ceiling over head. I haven’t seen the sky in a while now.
As I follow the path I notice some droppings.. deer. very good on the right path.
I note as I continue. Ignoring the inkling that the trees are watching me. 
Its impossible to tell how long I have been walking, no sun as reference and time seems to stand still here.
I hear something.. a light murmur.. am I starting to go mad as the stories always say.. as I continue walking the sound becomes more clear.. A trickle..
Water.
I have heard of bogs and swamps in this forest but never any running water.
Sure enough as I approach I find a large pool spring fed from a small rock formation in the center. The rock formation has a very large oak tree growing from the center of it.. its roots span over the rock and into the water below. 
The leaves are turned red as if it was autumn and the bark seemed abnormally pale. 
So far this is the only part of the forest with a break in the canopy. Only enough to illuminate the small pale tree. 
It was beautiful and surely deer will come here to drink and feed on the acorns. 
I will sit and wait with an arrow knocked.
I found my seat between the roots of a tree in a slight incline with a good view of the spring. My back to its trunk, I am ready to wait. 
The ray of light moves, at first slowly, and then faster. Time doesn’t seem to work in this place. Or maybe I am starting to get dehydrated. 
I decide I should get a drink from the pool. I was so full of excitement and bullheadedness I forgot to grab a canteen to bring with me. I cup some water in my hand, crystal clear and taste of sweet earth.
I start to greedily drink from it, dunking my head in the water. 
I start to open my eyes and see the bottom lined with what looks like white stone, but above the water I see movement.
When I bring my head up I am shocked to see something white in the forest moving towards me.
It  glows against the darkness.
I slowly scramble back up to my spot, at a slight high point for a better vantage. Its still so far in the distance I can’t make out exactly what it is.. but its big. Its big and silent. I pull back the string to test its strength and to ready for the draw.
It doesn’t seem to move cohesively it walks behind a tree and out from behind another one.. closer… and closer..  It flows through the forest like a spirit. Not disturbing a leaf, or even the dirt on the ground. 
As it gets closer I take In exactly how large this thing is. 
Calling it a stag is underselling it.
The beast stands at least 12 feet tall, easily double my height. Its large head has dozens of points pointing in all directions.. I don’t know how the beast was able to walk through the forest with its crown of antlers being so large. 
The odd thing about this beast though, Is its body was not built like a deer.. it was broader, its legs didn’t move the same, It resembled a lean bear of sorts. An intimidating animal for sure.
I will have to put an arrow through its throat or eye to bring it down. 
but I can’t make out its face. It practically glowing and it strains my eyes to look at it directly.
I rub my eyes and when I open them again its standing in the pool of water biting an acorn directly off the tree.
It presents me with its profile, a perfect side view.
I silently pull back the arrow and take aim.. the branches are obscuring its face but I can still get the neck. Its maybe 40 yards away, a long shot but I have made these kind of shots before.. on much smaller targets.
I let the arrow loose.
As the twang of the string lets the arrow loose.
It looks at me. 
Its eyes hollow and red. 
Like the depths of crucible. 
Red coals.

I never hear the arrow make contact. or even land. The beast turns and starts walking towards me. I notice as it struts silently that its not standing in the pool, but walking on the surface of the water. 
I turn and run.
I can’t find the path, but I don’t care as long as I put distance between me and the beast.

This time I can hear it moving. Loud thuds coming from behind me. I turn and see it approaching. It lifts its head and lets out an awful howl. It comes out like a scream, like a the last curdling cry of a woman dying.
I don’t hear it following anymore after the scream But I keep running. I want as much distance between me and it as possible. 
My legs are pumping fire, and my lungs are filled with smoke. 
I fall to my knees and wheeze,
When I look up and regain my composure I notice, that I am being watched.
Crows.. No much larger Ravens. All moving in the trees
Their wings beating against the quiet air. 
I see no sign of the beast around me, but I do notice, the trees are looking at me too, Some have faces. Carved roughly into their bark. Faces of agony, pain and fear.
They cry thick tears of sap. 
I start walking again, the sound of the birds starts to become overwhelming.
They follow me. Then comes the voices. Are the voices coming from the birds?
They don’t seem to be saying anything, only whispers. Wind put to words.

They don’t ever stop, the voices keep going the number of the birds grow. 
I start to see small structures made from branches.  They are assembled into small towers. I decide to observe one. it stands =taller than me, the branches are weaved together, and the top, there is something..white. I reach up and feel the cool hardness of it. I pull it off and it comes free with a snap.
And in my hand looking back at me is a human skull. 
The entire structure I notice has bones weaved into it.. ribs a femur peppered through out it, its some sort of totem. as I drop the skull the birds begin to shriek and the voices get louder. I cover my hears and run. more totems, all filled with bones, not just of people but of animals, dear, cows and dogs. I see a light, it must be the edge of the forest. Tears start to well in my eyes and my vision is blurred still running i rub my eyes and my foot catches and I tumble to the ground. I roll down a small incline and as I stop myself I feel a wetness on my hand. I open my eyes and i am back at the pool. 
The spring is slowly trickling into the pristine crystal pool.
I can’t help but press my face into again. hoping the clarity of the water will transfer to my mind.
I open my eyes in the water, and see that the bottom of the pool is lined with bones.
White, pristine and crushed. not a stone to be seen, there has to be hundreds.
This pool is a graveyard, to how many? 
I thrust my head out of the water. 
I see it there. Standing just a few feet away from me, towering.
Its coal eyes stare deep into mine, it’s face is immaculate bone. Its skull is exposed and much larger than it should be and the white fur grows up to it but stops,  its teeth are long and curved and are plainly visible. It opens its jaw and I see its long forked tongue taste the air and its jaw snaps shut. It approaches As silent as before, 
Some crows are cawing from its massive crown of antlers. 
I notice bones dangle from the tree, and tinkle lightly against each other with the light cool breeze. 
It walks along the surface of the water getting closer and I can’t move. Its eyes have rendered me paralyzed.
 I close my eyes.
 I don’t want to see it coming.
I feel the heat of its breath on my face. 
The last thing I hear are the voices The bone chimes
 and the cawing of the crows 
Then its jaws snap shut.

Author's Note

Just advice in general.