Feathers of Snow

Two- The Porch

A/N: *Warning* Gory scenes ahead! If you feel uncomfortable reading I'll put a marker: -- to tell you when the gore begins and ends! Thanks guys!!:)

The following morning, she awoke to Oliver not being next to her, and her stomach dropped into her toes. Where is he?! She looked around the loft for him and in her panic she thought that something had taken him, but she rushed out of bed to find him at the bottom of the ladder, waiting for her. She sighed with relief. It would've been the worst thing in the world for him to have been taken; he was the only family she had left.

He stared up at her expectantly as she climbed down. An awful stench had permeated the air. It was coming from the front door, and it smelled of rot and cold. Death. "Fuck!" She said as she held her nose and breathed through her mouth. This didn't exactly help though, she could taste the sickening sweet scent of decay in her mouth. Oliver hissed at the door, and the woman thought of the sounds that it had made last night. Had it really dragged something with it? She thought. Oliver followed behind her as she removed the metal bar and turned the deadbolt. What lay on her porch was something she wasn't prepared for.
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A decapitated elk's head lay on her front porch, leaning to the left against its antlers. It looked like it had been ripped apart, jagged flesh and skin torn and stretched. Part of the spine poked grotesquely out of the base of its neck. Judging by the points of his antlers, he was an older bull, most likely the herd bull. She felt nausea burn through her stomach and throat and she didn't have time to make it to the bathroom. She vomited over the railing of the porch, heaving until her eyes watered.
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Was the elk's head a threat? As she wondered this, she felt Oliver rubbing against her legs. She felt her chest heave in a sob. It was all too much. The paranoia, the terror, the tapping on the windows, and now this? What the fuck. Oliver gazed up at her, and she said, "I better move this. It can't stay here." The elk stared back at her blankly with it's lifeless eyes and she noticed little movements of insects and maggots in its eyes and gaping mouth. She gagged again, tears welling in her eyes once more. Turning to the door, Oliver followed her inside where she got a pair of gloves and prepared herself mentally to deal with this. She left Oliver in the house and shut the door behind her.

What was more disturbing was not just the overall appearance but how heavy it was. She had to hold it closer than she would've liked and there was the danger of it brushing against her. She shivered at the thought, and walked towards the edge of the sparse forest, her heavy boots crunching through the snow. The elk's head was placed behind a bush and she ran from it, and slammed the door behind her. She threw her gloves in the trashcan next to the end of the counter, and stripped in the bathroom. The hot water ran down her spine and thundered in her scalp as she thought about what had happened. It had never done that before. She started hyperventilating and she sat on the shower floor in a fetal position.

What did it want? Why was it doing this? When will it stop? And perhaps the most important question: would it ever stop? She ran her hands through her hair, scratching her scalp. I have to tell someone, she thought. But who could she tell? She was the crazy idiot living the farthest from humanity that she could get, and who could she trust enough to bring into her home? It might get into the house if a mistake was made. It would kill everyone, including Oliver. It easily tore the humongous bull elk into shreds. It could easily tear her apart, without an issue.

If she didn't say anything, she and Oliver would eventually get killed and nobody would know. They would look everywhere and probably never find her, it would be fruitless. No one would know to look. Maybe if she asked someone for help it might do some good, or maybe someone could make it stop. Hope made her get out of the shower and throw on some clothes. She got Oliver's harness and leash, and put the clips on under his belly and picked him up, grabbing her keys and her wallet. She rushed out the door, and locked it behind her. The windows were still locked down so she figured it would be enough just in case if it started coming in the daytime. Her store list was thankfully in her pocket so she didn't have to waste time going inside. Oliver mewled his resentment as she set him down like a piece of luggage in the passenger seat and then scraped the snow off the truck's windshield, windows and headlights. The Toyota Tundra rumbled to life and she double checked that the chains were still securely attached. She pushed the gear into drive and began moving forward toward the dirt road that wound its way down the mountain. The plow certainly made the trip faster and easier.