Wicked Hunt

Chapter Seven, Part II

Halle: Victor Of The Forest

She squinted through the trees, and her eyes widened. A black figure rose up from a crouch. Slowly, a shape began to take form. Two curved silhouettes grew up from a central form as a four- legged creature stood. The head rotated, revealing two pointed antlers. It was a stag. The Black Stag. It turned its head toward Halle, pinning her to the ground.

She inched backward, her fingers digging into the dirt of the forest. The stag placed a hoof toward her and lowered its head to sniff the air. The antlers were pointed at her, as if it was getting ready to charge. Halle scrambled to her feet and put her hands before her as if she would shield herself. The stag raised its head up and tilted its antlers back as it were preparing to howl. Halle scrambled to her feet and took off sprinting toward the fire in the distance. Snapping branches sounded behind her, but she didn't look back.

It was chasing her. She could hear it coming for her. It was ridiculous, really, to be running from an animal such as the gentle stag. All the deer she had seen in Rodantha had been gentle, cautious things. They did not hunt down animals. She slowed, regaining her composure. Surely, if the thing caught up to her, it would not harm her. She pushed the malevolent thoughts that had intruded into her mind when she had seen its shadows.

The darkness swelled up around her again; the trees scraping at her cheeks like sharp fingers. The snapping branches faltered, but she could still sense something close to her. She looked behind her, grabbing onto the nearest tree for support. A heavy breath was released as Halle forced herself to turn around. She saw the creature move closer to her; its movements jittery. The shape's head twisted as if it would peer up at her. Its eyes did not look natural. They looked red as blood. She had not noticed before.

Suddenly, the wind picked up. It tore at her hair like a violent storm was approaching. Halle gripped her torn skirt and forced it down to keep it from exposing her legs. The scent of charred wood assaulted her nostrils and choked her, coating her tongue in thick ash. She wanted to gag.

"The forest does not want you here, girl." The rasping voice was carried on the wind like a knife blade grating across her collarbone. It sank into the hollows of her mind, pinning her in place. In that moment, Halle knew real fear. Ice dripped down her back freezing her blood in her veins. She couldn't catch her breath. It had abandoned her, scurrying back down her throat to hide within her lungs. The princess raised her hands up to form a barrier between herself and the entity, but her arms shook like feeble twigs. Taking a step back, she stumbled over a tree root. Looking down forced her to take her eyes off the stag. When she looked back up, the creature had moved right in front of her. It reared up onto its hind legs, and Halle fell back. Her hand scraped across the gnarled roots of the trees, scratches forming inside her soft palm.

"Please," she found herself begging. "Don't hurt me..."

"Stand up, girl." The stag inclined its head as it slowly lowered itself from its hind legs. Gingerly, Halle stumbled to her knees. She got into a crouch and then finally stood up.

"What... what... do... you want... fr... from me?" She managed to get out around her chattering teeth.

"Get. Out." The shadow stag took another step toward her, its beady eyes focusing on her own and holding them in a vice like grip.

"I can't."

The stag jerked its head in the opposite direction over its shoulder. "That way."

Halle carefully stepped around the creature, keeping her eyes on it. She wouldn't turn her back. The stag continued to watch her, its head eerily rotating as she walked. Shakily, Halle raised her hand up, pointed a finger in the direction the stag had suggested.

"This... way?" she asked. The beast stared at her, and Halle was sure it could hear her frightened heart hiccupping inside her chest. That was the only sound. Blood rushed to her ears. For a moment complete, horrifying silence engulfed them. It strangled Halle, crushing her windpipe. She tried to swallow but couldn't. Then, just as suddenly as the silence began, it subsided.

The stag lowered its head, its eyes narrowing. "Run."

She turned and sprinted. Branches snatched at her hair. Mud clung to her feet. Leaves fell all around her like soft rain. Little bugs scurried in the night air around her face, and a spider's web was shredded as Halle darted through it. She did not stop. Could not stop. Through the trees, a howling laugh echoed behind her. It stabbed her head like a thousand knives, nearly making her black out, but she merely stumbled in her continuing run. The cackle was the worst sound the princess had ever heard. Her breath came in body racking sobs, but she couldn't catch it as she ran.

Crows shot out from the upper branches of the trees, cawing in the night. Their black shapes were bold against the pale moon hanging above the forest. The smell of smoke intensified, and Halle clung to it like some sort of hope. Her eyes scanned the forest before her, searching for Clive's dark form standing at the edge of the trees. Would he still be there? How long had she been inside this forest of nightmares?

Her heart skipped as she began to see the trees thinning out. She could see the smoke dancing above the trees, and tears welled in her eyes. Not caring that they spilled out onto her dirty cheeks, Halle flung herself forward until she was stumbling out of the thin trees. She fell onto her knees and sat up to wipe at the snot leaking from her nose. She could see her fingers! They were wiggled in front of her face to make sure they were real.

Two pairs of rough hands hauled her to her feet and drug her toward the fire blazing in the distance. They approached the flickering flames. Clive emerged from behind them still wearing the crown with antlers and the black paint about his eyes. A flicker of surprise darted across his face, but it was gone almost as soon as it had arrived. Slowly, he made his way to her side.

As if in a dream, Halle looked up at him. Her anger at him before for letting her be taken away into the forest was dissipating. The smoke from the fire was calming her, lulling her into serenity. He snatched her wrist and gruffly led her to the fire. Halle looked up, saw the people crowding around, their low murmurings the only noise besides the crackling of the fire. Another figure emerged from around the flames, the man donning the yellow mask. His hair still stood out on either side of the facial adornment, but he seemed grave as he approached her. Instinctively, Halle stepped back, but she was instantly tugged forward again by Clive. His impatience frightened her, and she shivered, but she did not want to go back into the forest, did she? The uneasiness she felt in Clive's presence was nothing compared to the terror that had enveloped her as she ran from the Black Stag.

The panic rose up within her chest, and Halle bit back a whimper as she thought of the creature's menacing red eyes. Her heart began hammering in her chest again, but there was no time to remedy the fear as the man in the yellow mask gently took her other wrist. His icy fingers slowly raised her hand upward, a gesture of triumph.

"The Victor of the Forest!" he announced.