I spent 15 years of my life logging. I have seen numerous accidents leading to mutations and deaths but have been lucky enough to never have gotten as much as a splint. It’s a rough, dangerous job but as long as your in shape and keep your wits about you it’s manageable. I am good at manual labor and love being out amongst nature. The fresh air, the calm quietness away from the hustle and bustle of city life feels amazing and I can’t imagine any other way of living.
That said I recently quit logging after a particular incident. There was a job that ruined the lifestyle for me. You see there was a problematic job that had an extremely high turnover rate. It was further away from where I normally work but the pay just kept raising and eventually it was too much to pass up on. I really wish I had.
When I arrived I asked around about the turnovers and kept getting weird responses and superstitious mumbo jumbo that I couldn’t help but dismiss. Stories of the land being cursed or an evil spirit haunting the land. Nothing about the job itself actually being any more dangerous than any other job, actually there hadn’t been a single accidental injury at all on the job, so I dismissed it all.
On my second week I found out it was all true. One night me and the crew were asleep in our cabin and was awoken by the sounds of bleating, grunting, groaning and snorting. I knew them to be the sounds of a deer but they sounded wrong. Louder, deeper, and somehow sinister.
The thing broke down the cabin door. In the dark it looked like a giant man but it’s legs looked tiny and it appeared to have antlers on its head, and it wore a white linen robe that gave it an almost majestic appearance.
It began thrashing around wildly, attacking the crew. They attempted to fight it off but it overpowered everyone with ease. It tore off flesh and limbs. It disemboweled a man with its antlers and pressed on with his guts hanging off them. Someone turned on a lantern and once my eyes adjusted I could see that it looked like a human deer hybrid.
I hid between my bed and the wall and began to scrounge through my gear looking desperately for something to defend myself with as I heard the beast slowly approaching and tearing apart my fellow loggers.
Then came the silence. I paused and listened for the beast but I heard nothing. I turned to see if it had made its way to me and to my horror it had. With no time to spare I settled on a can of bear mace and sprayed at its head, it didn’t seem to register. It just stared for a moment and the it started to kick and stomp me with its deer feet and they passed through me like bullets. The pain was unbearable and I drifted off into darkness…
When I awoke I found that I was in one peace but the cabin and the crew and my own clothes were ruined, blood stained everything revealing the truth of the matter, that it hadn’t been a nightmare. That it had all been real. Everyone was shaking and showed signs of PTSD. Ruined by the horror of what had happened to us. We all quit and even gave up on logging.
Everyone else did there best to move on and pretend it never happened. They coped with drugs and alcohol. One even took the cowards way out, although I must admit the thought has crossed my own mind a few times since the incident. But I searched for answers. The best that I could find was stories of skin walkers online, something that I previously would never have taken seriously.
Eventually I reached out to locals native to the region where this occurred. When I spoke with one, a gigantic man with long flowing dark hair that was almost hypnotic, and presented the idea of it being a skin walker he was clearly offended. He assured me that was not the case. That the thing was actually a deer god, corrupted by man’s cruelty and carelessly destroying the land, it’s domain. That hunting for sport, trapping, and pollution had twisted the mind of this once noble majestic beast.
Then he explained that nothing within the deer gods domain is blessed and can not truly be physically harmed or die. That explained that nobody ever suffered any injuries on that job and how we survived what it had done to us. Unfortunately it’s “blessing” didn’t prevent us from feeling the pain or prevent mental anguish.
Maybe I was wrong to criticize the man that took his life. It’s been a while and I am still haunted by the memories of that night. It cost me my job and completely ruined my life. I just don’t see things getting any better and feel certain that thing will come for me again.