deer hunter, how i became a skinwalker in a world of animal people.

not just a mask

"Should I bury her?" he muttered to himself, his voice barely a whisper. The idea seemed absurd — he had no shovel, no way to dig a grave. But the thought of leaving her there, just lying in the open, made his skin crawl. He took another bite of bread, chewing slowly, his mind wandering.

He could make a cairn, maybe, cover her with stones. But that would take time, time he didn't have. He looked down at the antlers again,

If he needed to barter with the people here, if he needed to blend in, he might need more than just a mask. The thought gnawed at him like a rat in the dark corners of his mind. He turned the antlers over in his hands, feeling their weight, their solid, almost lifelike texture. A strange idea began to take shape, an idea that turned his stomach even as it gripped his thoughts. What if I wore them?

He almost recoiled at the thought, a shiver running down his spine. He dropped the antlers onto the cold stone floor and stepped back. But then, slowly, inexorably, he found himself reaching for them again, his fingers trembling slightly as they curled around the bone. He lifted them to his head, feeling the base press against his scalp, the weight settling on his brow like a crown.

He imagined how he might look with them on — not quite like them, not really, but enough to pass a glance in the dim light of the forest. Enough to make them hesitate, to make them think twice before they screamed or ran. He could almost hear the whisper in his mind again, the hiss of breath in his ear. Wear them... wear her...

His gaze drifted back to the girl's body, lying motionless on the cave floor. He found himself staring at her face, at the soft lines of her cheeks, her closed eyes. The idea, the urge, grew stronger, spreading through him like a slow, creeping chill. His heart began to pound in his chest, and his skin tingled with a sensation that wasn't quite fear — something deeper, darker.

The whisper in his mind grew louder. Take it. Wear it. Become one of them. He shook his head, trying to clear the thought, but it only grew more insistent. The skin, he realized, the fur... he could use it. He could make a disguise. Not just the antlers, but the whole pelt — the hide itself.

His stomach twisted, revulsion battling with the strange compulsion that gripped him. His breath quickened, a tightness forming in his chest. He didn't want to do this — didn't even know why the thought had occurred to him. But the whisper persisted, threading through his thoughts like a needle through cloth, stitching together his fear, his desperation, and something else he didn't want to name.

He crouched down beside her, his knife in his hand, and reached out to touch the fur on her shoulder. It was softer than he'd imagined, a texture both familiar and foreign. He hesitated, swallowing hard. A wave of nausea swept over him, his hands trembling. But he didn't stop. Slowly, he began to cut, the blade slicing into the fur, parting it from the flesh beneath.

The sound was wet, sickening, and he nearly gagged, bile rising in his throat. His hands moved faster, almost frantic, as if trying to outrun the thoughts racing through his mind. He worked with a grim determination, stripping the hide from the body in long, ragged strips. Blood pooled on the ground, dark and sticky, soaking into the dirt. The air was filled with the metallic tang of it, and he could taste it in the back of his throat.

He kept working, trying not to think too much, trying to ignore the whispers that now seemed to fill the cave, louder and louder with every cut. He didn't know where the urge came from, didn't know why he was doing this — only that he couldn't stop. He pulled the skin free, draping it over his shoulders, feeling the weight of it settle around him.

It felt... wrong, and yet, at the same time, strangely right. He adjusted the hide, letting it fall around him like a cloak. The warmth of it seeped into his skin, and he could feel his heartbeat slow, his breathing steady. He took the antlers and secured them to his head by drilling holes into the mask forehead and then adding the leather strap and poking holes to fasten itself into a knot, tying it tight, the bone pressing against his skull threw the mask.