When Hunter Becomes Prey

Snow White

I miss her. Why did she have to end her life with no explanation? She was so excited to get out of school early to go deer hunting! Then she took her own life. Maybe that's why she was so excited, she knew she'd finally be free.

Sandy! That's the furthest thing from the truth! I didn't mean to die, my gun accidentally went off.

I wish she could've saw how bad Brad felt. He felt like it was his fault because he was such a dick to her. He actually cried at her funeral.

No no, this just, this just can't be.

Brad was suck a jackass to me, always telling me that I'm a bitch. According to him that's how our friendship worked. So at a basketball game he said I should be deported. Of course, I hit my fist into his leg and caused him a muscle spasm. (Oops.) Then I called him a cocksucker.

What a beautiful friendship. It took a bitch like me to be friends with a bastard like him!

Briar goes out daily to check her snares and every time she finds them empty. Growing frustrated, she tries different tricks, hanging snares and moving their locations. Nothing works for the young doe. Eventually she is forced to eat whatever vegetation she can find while in doe form.

I'm going to be honest, I thought salad was terrible. Grass and leaves is worse. I'm scared for winter, I know for a fact Sandy is going to make me eat bark.

As I walk to check my next trap, I feel my hoof step on something metallic. I lift my hoof and see a bit of metal shining under some leaves.

I shift and brush the leaves away. I immediately feel a sharp sting. I pull my left hand up and see a long incision going across my palm diagonally. It starts near my pinky and ends near my thumb.

I just stare at it as it bleeds. I continue staring until the blood reaches my wrist and starts dripping down my arm.

I snap out of my stare and make a fist, causing me pain and the blood to flow more. Now there's blood between my fingers and dripping down the backside of my hand.

I wonder if I shift, will the wound go away? As a deer I have hooves. I don't think hooves can have a cut like this. First I need to get this sharp object though.

Now wary of the sharpness, I grab a stick from nearby and brush the leaves away. Once the leaves are gone I see the knife I've only dreamed about.

It's beautiful damascus knife. I would've loved to have this back in the real world.

I pick it up and put it between my teeth, with the blade facing outwards. I then shift and the pain in my hand goes away.

Seeing as I know there's no point in checking the last of my traps because I know for a fact there's nothing in them, I turn and go back to my shed.

I can just imagine the shock I would feel if I saw a deer with a knife walking through the woods. I'm shocking!

I'm almost back to my shed when I hear a twig snap not far ahead of me. I stop and listen. Another twig snaps and my instincts scream for me to flee.

Instead I move closer, but I stay hidden behind a tree. I move my head slightly and see the source of the noise.

It's a snow white buck. He's sniffing at the crow flying around him. If I had my slug gun right now, I would so lay him out.

The crow lets out a soft caw before flying higher and landing on a tree branch. As soon as the crow is landed, the buck turns his head towards me.

He looks startled and takes a step back. We stare at each other for what has to be a full minute before he lets out a grunt. The kind of grunt I loved to hear on early morning hunts.

It's the kind of grunt where a buck is ordering a doe to follow him. Something in me, probably Sandy's doing, wants me to walk up to him.

I don't move though until he lets out a second grunt. Then as if an unknown force has control, I slowly walk out from behind the tree.

I force myself to stop once I'm out from behind the tree and in his full view. Oh how I wish this was the real world, I would for sure have laid his ass out by now.

He looks me up and down and then lets out a soft grunt. This buck wants me closer? No way. I'm too busy fantasizing about shooting him.

He grunts a little louder this time but I still don't move. I move my head ever so slightly and he lets out a startled noise.

I don't know what that noise means, but it must not be good because he just turned tail and ran away with his little crow friend hot on his tail.

As he runs I can't help but imagine I've shot him and he's taking his final run before I go to track him down.

Sadly this will never be.

With this beautiful fantasy in my head, I go back to my shed with my newfound weapon.