Crash by Neil Christiansen

Five thousand feet and falling.

The altimeter spun like the second hand on a Swiss watch.

Two thousand feet.

One thousand feet.

Not much longer and the wings would be clipping the tops of the trees.

Five-hundred feet.

There was no runway to aim for. No clearing to point at and it wouldn't matter if there were. I had no steering, no navigation, no controls whatsoever. I was going down into the forest, right into the trees and my plane; my little Shark UL wasn't going to make it to the ground in one piece.

Two-hundred feet.

One-hundred.

The first small branch snapped across the wing to my right. Then another. Then another. Then the big one.

The wing cracked and the plane spun throwing me forward against the instrument panel. Another slammed into the aircraft canopy cracking the glass over my head. I started tumbling through the understory losing pieces with every impact. The tail went, then the right wing and the tip of the left. I was heels over head when the nose of the plane slammed into the trunk of a tree wide enough to be a small house. My helmet hit the canopy finishing the job above and glass rained down below me as the body of the plane tipped and scraped the bark off the tree on its way to the ground.

I was on my side when I came to, still strapped into my seat. Everything was blurry but I found the belt clip and let myself out of my harness and fell agains the side of the cockpit. Lying there I felt blood on my face. My hands were shaking and my whole body felt cold and metallic. The world was frighteningly silent.

When my vision cleared up I pulled myself sideways out of the aircraft and crawled across the dirt for a dozen yards or so. I wasn't sure if I could stand up, and if I could it was unclear if I could stay that way. I had no idea where I was, except south-ish. I could have traveled dozens or even a hundred miles since the instruments went out. Maybe the GPS was still active, but the display wasn't and the radio wasn't working to call anyone for help.

I was alone and it would be hours, or even days before anyone started looking for me, and if the GPS tracker wasn't working, they would have no way of finding me.

I crawled a little further and propped myself up against another tree, taking deep breaths and letting the cortisol and adrenaline in my body taper out so I could think straight.

It was surprisingly dark down there on the forest floor. The canopy blocked out most of the sunlight and made the temperature surprising chilly for a summer day. It was quiet, but not as silent as it had first seemed. I could hear birds moving through the tree tops, small animals scittering under the dead leaves on the ground and wind winding its way between the skyscraper tree trunks that owned the majority of open ground.

Also there was my breath. Panting, heavy, loud in my ears and echoing softly in the distance. That was strange I thought. I wouldn't think the staggered nature of the rounded tree trunks would produce echos. I held my breath to make it stop.

My heart skipped.

The heavy breath in my ears stopped, but the echo remained. Slow, quiet, distant.

I slid down the bark and laid myself flat on the ground. My head went left and right, eyes scanning the forest for movement.

There, at my two, about a hundred feet away. I'm not a zoologist but I know danger when I see it. Huge, even at a distance. Gray fur and deep empty eyes.

I moved slowly along the floor of the forest to a fallen log and wedged myself tight between it and the soil at one end so I could see around it. Dirt fell in my hair and across my face as I peeked out at the animal. It hadn't seen me yet, but it was only a matter of time. It was moving slowly in my direction, smelling the ground and pawing at the debris on the forest floor.

It was looking for me. I was sure of it. The crash had caught its attention and it was looking for the dinner that had been delivered to it. I wasn't going to get out of here. No one was coming for me except the animal that was not here to help.

I felt my body for anything I could use as a weapon. Nothing. I patted the ground looking for a heavy branch or a sharp stick. Nothing was in reach. I closed my eyes, trying to focus, trying to come up with some kind of plan.

When I opened them it was gone. I scooted forward a bit, dragging my body through the dirt and leaves to get a better look. Then I heard it, the snap of a twig and that same breathy echo, but now just as loud as my own.

I rolled slowly onto my back and stared into the eyes of the beast standing over me. Its hot breath spreading across my face, filling my nose and mouth. A low growl emanating from its chest inches away from me.

I held my breath and...

Hunted by Michael Kelso

Dirt fell in my hair and across my face as I peeked out at the animal. It hadn’t seen me yet, but it was only a matter of time. I’d been here in this spot, laying under a pile of dirt and leaves for eight hours, waiting for the perfect moment. No less than seven deer had ventured into my sights, but I let them go without so much as flicking off the safety. No, the one I was waiting for was special. I’d heard the stories of the monster buck that roamed these woods. I’d fought against boredom, sleep, hunger and bathroom breaks. I knew this deer would be savvy enough to catch the scent if I’d relieved myself, and that would be it. Time wasted. But my investment had paid off. I’d heard soft footsteps and caught sight of the antlers. It was the biggest rack I’d ever seen. And the rest of it was just as huge. My hand slid up the stock and reached for the trigger as I placed the crosshairs right behind it’s front shoulder. When I flicked the safety off, his head popped up. My finger caressed the trigger just in time for him to bolt out of sight. Disappointment washed over me like a flood, threatening to sweep me away into the ocean of despair. I flicked the traitorous safety back on and was about to rise from my hiding place in defeat when I saw something in the treeline. Settling back in, I watched through the scope as another set of antlers appeared. Impossible as it seemed, they were even bigger. I knew I was about to set the state record when the head came fully into view and my blood turned to ice. This… thing was no deer. Its head looked like it had been skinned. There was nothing but the skeletal remains of what was once a deer skull. The holes where the eyes should’ve been were hollow and empty, and yet it seemed to look around as it sniffed. It took me a moment to register what it was. And then it took me several more moments to convince myself I wasn’t insane or that I hadn’t fallen asleep and was having some terrible nightmare. While my mind wrestled between insanity or unconsciousness, this thing continued sniffing. The argument ended when I realized it was coming straight at me. Unlike the deer which was cautious and left before it could be hunted, this thing was the hunter. I put it in my crosshairs as it sniffed, coming within fifty yards of me, when it did the most surprising thing… stood up on its hind legs. As I watched enthralled, it didn’t waver or stumble. It seemed just as natural as walking on all fours. There was something else I hadn’t noticed. It was wearing something over its shoulders like a shawl. Looking closer I saw it was the skin of another animal. This thing was wearing another animal as clothes. Curiosity melted into fear. This was no simple deformed deer, it was an alpha predator. If it was going another direction, I would’ve stayed silent and let it pass. But it was coming straight at me. It had locked on to my scent and was stalking me. I had two choices. Either run, but running away from an alpha predator only meant I would die tired. The second choice… I put my crosshairs in the middle of its chest and flicked off the safety. As soon as the safety came off, it froze. My hands started shaking. It had heard that. Its empty eyes found mine. I steadied myself and squeezed off a shot. The unnatural shriek it made was like nothing I’d ever heard. It turned my marrow to ice. I laid there, not having to worry about holding in my bathroom urges anymore, watching as it staggered, and then, impossibly, it righted itself and came at me again. My shaking hands loaded another round in the chamber and shot it in the chest again. This shriek was filled with rage as it went down on all fours and ran at me. I fired two more times, missing with both as panic overtook me, throwing off my aim. I could feel its hoofs pounding the ground as it galloped toward me. Firing again, I hit it in the shoulder, but it didn’t even slow. I fired again and again, hitting it in the leg and the skull. Neither slowed it in the least. I screamed as it gouged out my left eye and punctured my throat with its antlers. My remaining eye was mere inches from its black, empty hole where the eyes should’ve been. As I gazed into it, unable to make any sound but a bloody gurgle, I saw a faint light inside the skull that looked like the flames of hell… I woke with a start, jumping up and feeling my eyes and neck. The trophy buck that had wandered within ten yards of me was sprinting through the field, its white tail waving as it ran. There was no time to aim and get off a shot. The sun was about to set. I’d wasted an entire day. I shook my head in disgust when something caught my eye. Off in the edge of the woods there was a set of antlers, bigger than any I’d ever seen. They were attached to the same nightmare that had just impaled me in my impromptu dream. My knees shook as the empty eyeholes of the bare skull bore into mine. I held the rifle in front of me and made a visible display of unloading it, then laid it on the ground and backed away. The creature hadn’t moved the entire time, but I still didn’t take my eyes off it until it was obscured by the trees. I turned and ran to my truck, started it and broke every speed law getting out of there. From that day, I’ve never set foot in the woods again. Every night, that thing stalks me in my dreams…

Unconditional by Chris Alan

The wind blew and the head of the deer rose. Jordan begged it not to run. He needed to kill it. It hadn't seen him yet but it was just a matter of time. They always did. No matter how often he was forced to come out here, the wind blowing rotted year-old leaves around him, it always resulted in the same, no kill and punishment for his “inadequacy.” He didn't want to kill anything, he was only a child, but he knew the repercussions would be worse. And besides, maybe if he just acted like a man and did what needed to be done, then maybe Father would be proud. Maybe he would even allow him to skip the next Hunt. But could he do it? Could he bring himself to take the life of something so purely innocent? Something that lived with no other purpose than to simply keep living? Every time he saw that caramel fur flash through the green screen of fresh leaves, the flip of a white tail trailing behind it like a flag of truce, his hands became sweaty on the wood of the rifle. His heart began to race and all he could hear was Father telling him “Just pull the damn trigger” and he wanted to. It would be so easy, the small piece of metal, flimsy and weak beneath his finger but heavy with a responsibility Jordan didn’t want. He knew that to do it, to pull that trigger, would bring about an action that couldn't be taken back. Unforgiving and inexcusable. Father always counted the bullets before he was sent off into the forest. If any were missing when he returned from the Hunt and if he was kill-less, he was punished. If none were missing when he returned, he was punished still. Each time was worse than the last. Jordan didn't know what would happen if he actually returned with a kill. He'd never brought himself to do it. There were times when he got close, the trigger pulled, the bullet shot, but whether it was on purpose or some deep part of his subconscious preventing him from stepping over that line, he always missed. And he was punished. Jordan lay on the ground, the smell of dirt and decaying leaves brushing his face as a breeze blew past. He tried to control his breathing, as he stared down the sights of the gun. The deer dropped its head again. He had to do it. And he had to do it now but his hands wouldn't stop shaking. A ball of anticipation sat in his throat, making him feel like he was going to puke. “Just pull the damn trigger” He squeezed his eyes shut, only for a second, and took a deep breath. When he opened them again the deer's head was raised once more. It turned all around, searching for a threat carried on the wind, searching for him. Its eyes like black pearls scanned everything between the towering trees surrounding it. Jordan's finger tensed on the cold metal. But something moved to his left and he rested his finger. Another deer, less than half the size of the first, trotted into view. Its fur, golden brown and spotted like water drops in sand. It walked to the first deer and mimicked its movements. Jordan took his finger off the trigger, lay the gun down on the ground, and rested his chin on his hands. He watched for a long time and when the deer began to walk out of view, he knew what was to come when he returned home. Again he couldn't bring himself to do it. He couldn't take a mother from her child. For, to have a mother is to have protection. To have love. Unconditional and pure. He envied that baby deer as it trotted off with its mother because all he had was Father. And the only thing unconditional about him was pain and fear.

Last of Their Kind by Scott Roche

Sweat ran into my eyes. There was a cool breeze in the forest, but I hid in a trench covered in branches and leaf litter. I'd made it large enough for me and my equipment, but none of the air circulating out there made its way to me. It also meant I would be hidden from my quarry. In my years as a freelance photographer, I had been in far more uncomfortable positions. On the upside, the smell of the loamy soil and the grasslands and trees which surrounded me was pleasant. I did my best to ignore the sweat, the bugs, the humidity. If I could get a picture of the Columbian sharp-tailed grouse it would be the perfect capstone to my new book on endangered birds. There were fewer than a thousand of this bird species in Washington State. I’d been in the field for a week and a half and had the budget set aside for three more days. If there were no grouse pictures by then, I’d have to go to plan B. My girlfriend knew where some tufted puffins had a nesting site. There was no plan C. However I filled out the book, I needed this to be a success. My last book on wild cats hadn’t been nearly as successful as my publisher had hoped. They were going to give me one more chance. If this book didn’t sell, it would be back to freelancing for me. Maybe even taking pictures of high school kids at graduation and prom. I would need some kind of steady work to help put my girls through college. I swept my lens up and down the stream, hoping I’d catch sight of one of the little things. The trill of the water on rocks and the distant noise of an animal I didn’t recognize threatened my concentration. My body also began to find ways to pull my focus away with little aches and pains. It reminded me that I was no longer the young’un I once was. Just as my leg began to cramp, there it was. Hardly the most impressive-looking animal, it was a little bit larger than a football. My job was to make it look beautiful. “Come on baby, dance for me.” I snapped off a handful of shots as it rooted around for lunch. Some dirt fell in my hair and across my face, but I ignored it. I heard rustling in the trees across the stream and prayed it wouldn’t spook the bird. Then the pair of creatures broke the cover of the trees. They were at least seven and a half feet tall. The female had chestnut-colored hair and was the shorter of the two. The male was much darker, almost a chocolate brown coat, and stood a head taller. Thankfully, the wind was blowing towards me. Unfortunately, it carried the smell of a powerful musk. My finger kept depressing the shutter release button as I kept them in focus. Their faces weren’t simian exactly, but they weren’t human either. She had a necklace of flowers. He carried a branch as long as he was tall, straight and worked into a staff. They wore no clothes or any other adornment except for her flowers. While they were covered in hair there was no mistaking their sex. Neither had seen me yet, but it was only a matter of time. Grateful my camera made no noise and for my study nerves, I prayed I was wrong. I had hidden like this from gorillas and bears. But these creatures were more intelligent. There was something in their eyes. They walked lazily but with purpose towards the stream. My original quarry had flown off at some point. If I survived this encounter though, my book on birds would wait. That was if, in fact, I ever needed to work again. She drank while he watched out for predators. Then their roles reversed. What would prey on these massive, well-muscled bipeds? Well, besides man of course. How had they managed to evade the most dangerous hunter in the world for so long? Were they brother and sister or a mating pair? Part of my brain remained detached as the rest of me freaked out. I had pictures! Good pictures! There would be proof of these beautiful creatures at last. There had been plenty of fuzzy videos, most of which had been debunked. With that thought, I switched my camera to video mode and began filming. They began grooming each other. There was an intimacy to the act which made me feel, for the first time in years, like a voyeur. It wasn’t blatantly sexual. Part of me thought it was an act reserved for mates, true among some primates. I could take these pictures and videos back to civilization and be the toast of the world. I’d never have to wait in a hunting blind or get eaten alive by mosquitos again. Scientists could study them. Maybe they were part of our family tree. Then I saw it. Her eyes through the lens. They had made me. There was no display of aggression, in spite of what some legends said. There was only naked fear. They vanished even more quickly than they had arrived. That didn’t matter. I had my pictures. Of a mating pair. Perhaps the last mating pair? Or, who knows, maybe one of a hundred. There couldn’t be many more than that, could there? Surely I wouldn’t have been the first to discover them if there were. If I took these pictures back it would ignite a furor. Scientists and hunters would beat the bushes looking for them. Some would want their hides. Others would want to capture them and put them in the zoo. I considered my own fame versus the knowledge that I could be responsible for the undoing of one more species. I brought the pictures up on my camera’s screen and my finger hovered over the delete button.

Caught by Daphne Parker

There was death here. Death and blood stained on bleached bones nestled amongst the carcasses of its previous victims. The sun was hot on my dirt-streaked face as I peered out over bent straw and tufts of brown grass. The creature that took me was gone—for now, but it would be back. It always came back. There was a putrid odor stinging my eyes and settling inside my nostrils as they flared. I turned my head to see the leftover flesh of another unfortunate soul rotting away in the afternoon heat and I swallowed to keep myself from vomiting. How long until I met the same fate? I needed to get out of here. Now. Moving, I crawled towards the edge—ignoring the sharp pain in my left leg as I scrambled over femurs and skulls and tiny little hand bones. I knew my limb was marred—could feel bits of flesh ripped open, exposing raw tissue underneath. Shock was on my side right now and I knew that once I cast a glance down at my mangled leg, I'd feel that pain rip through me like fire. I couldn't risk it. Not until I was free. Until I was safe. Leaning over the nest, I peered down at the ground below—hundreds of feet from where I remained unsure and afraid. If I jumped I was just as dead as if I stayed. Perhaps I could shimmy myself onto a nearby branch—hugging the bark tightly until I felt fresh soil beneath my feet. Carefully, I swung my body over the side—feeling around for the giant oak creaking beneath me. All I needed to do was stick to the shadows and that's exactly what I did. Slowly I made my way down, past large squirrels shucking acorns and caterpillars nestled peacefully amongst brilliant leaves. They didn't stop, didn't bother to look at me as I clawed my way towards the trunk. I suppose they were used to seeing creatures they weren't familiar with, fleeing from the monster and his throne. Almost there. I could taste freedom on my tongue—bold and vibrant and full of possibilities. Two more steps... Finally, I felt the grass between my toes and I cried out with relief. I did it. Cutting across the field, I finally stopped to admire my leg. It was bent and twisted and gnarled but it was save-able. Reveling in my victory, I closed my eyes, taking in a deep breath against the warm sun. But when I opened them, the light was gone—hidden behind the shadow of something large. Something angry. Something hungry. When it spotted me I tried to flee, but there was nowhere to go, nowhere to hide and I was tired. Tired of running. Tired of trying to survive. Tired of feeling like no matter what I did, there would always be another predator, another trap lurking around every corner. I was born in this field, and it only seemed fitting to die in it as well. And so, when his claws bit into my side, puncturing my skin, I didn’t try to escape. I only closed my eyes, letting the wind roar in my ears—a lullaby of death before being greeted by it. They say a mouse that refuses to be a victim will always be one step ahead of the cat, but they never say anything about eagles.

The Beast by Tyler Thomas

I know I missed the deadline, I work nights and could not get a signal yesterday evening to submit. I would love your feedback however if you're ever really bored and are desperate for a short read. Loving this writers group, nice work. The Beast whateverjustpickone writing as Tyler Thomas Sweat was trickling down my brow despite the chilly autumn air. My knees ached from crouching for so long behind the bushes near my back door. Had it been ten minutes, or only two? I lifted my head slightly to peer through the leaves, it had been a while since I’d seen or heard anything. I risked raising my head higher for a better view of the tree line. No movement, no sound, other than the leaves rustling and an occasional small thud as branches or pine cones fell to the ground. But It was silent. I had thought that if I just disappeared from view for a while, It would lose interest in me and move on to something else. I would be able to make it to my truck and be gone before It could react. What an idiot. Safety and escape were parked only twenty five yards away, but the shadowy tree line was only ten. And It was fast. I had to put more space between the shadows and myself. I slowly inched my way along the house, keeping the bushes between myself and the beasts last known position. Leaves and pine straw crunched underfoot with each cautious step. I froze. Had it heard? A menacing growl sounded from the other side of the yard. It was toying with me. The sun was hanging low in the sky, casting long shadows across the grass. It would be gone soon. A breeze rustled the leaves. Then I saw it, a blur of fur in motion, there and gone again in an instant. It was pacing, prowling, hunting. And I was the prey. I heard the snort about twenty feet behind me, around the corner of the house. It found my scent. No amount of concealment could hide me now. The time was now, adrenaline began pumping through my veins. I leapt into the open. My feet pounded across the grass as I made the desperate dash for the truck. Behind me, a furious bark erupted, followed by the sound of powerful legs eating up the distance. My fingers pushed the key fob as I ran. The truck chirped and the lights flashed. It knew. It ran even faster. I lunged for the handle, wrenching the door open and diving inside. I wasn’t even close. Its massive head struck me in the chest as a talon scraped across my side through the thin cotton of my tshirt. It felt like I had been gutted by a molten dagger. As I fell to the ground, I let out a very disappointing but thankfully short cry. Immediately the beasts fury turned to concern as its head cocked sharply to the side. As I felt my side for the gash and spilling organs I knew I’d find, the beasts ears flopped forward as it’s tongue assaulted my face. Of course it was only a scratch, not the first. “Get off me dude, I’m ok, let me up”. One hundred and ten pounds of German Shepherd back up immediately, tail wagging furiously, tongue lolling, eyes concerned. “Good boy, I’m ok, nice hit buddy”. A loud voice from the front door. “Be careful before someone gets hurt! Just take him with you, I need that stuff to start dinner. Hurry back.” The front door closed. “Alright Miko, you win, hop in. We’ll grab a pup cup on the way back”.

Untitled by M.K. Dockery

These woods were forbidden. Gnarled oaks and dense thickets obscured all but the faintest traces of a path though the branches. Huddled within a bush's shelter, I pressed deeper against the ancient roots, feeling dirt fall down my hair and face. As I brushed it away, a distant, unsettling sound pierced the eerie silence, stirring the shadows around me.

My eyes did not need to light upon it to know what hunted me. This creature of the forbidden lands I had encroached and penetrated upon did not welcome my presence.

I shouldn't have trespassed here.

A low growl echoed through the underbrush, sending shivers down my spine. I huddled tighter in my damp refuge, heart pounding.

"You've broken our agreement," the voice whispered through the trees, chilling me to the core.

Heart pounding, I shut my eyes, willing myself to become invisible.

"Come out," his voice commanded, sending shivers through me. “Do not make me crawl into the crannies and nooks you hide yourself within.”

I beseeched whatever divinity ruled this realm to let him pass. I could not go back.

“Return now and I will show mercy,” the creature's voice carried a more than a hint of menace.

A strange shriek pierced the air, causing the creature's fur to bristle. Another presence disrupted the tension of the forest, diverting the creature’s attention.

I shielded my head as the new terror descended into where the creature lurked.

Chaos erupted as unseen forces clashed, the very air trembling with their struggle.

After the chaos of snapping branches and thrashing, the forest fell into an eerie silence, broken only by the sound of labored breathing. Uncertainty gripped me. Was it the predator or its assailant?

Curiosity surged within me, urging me forward despite my fear. Instinct battled with fraught emotion as I leaned in, seeking answers despite my fear.

Emerging from the place I hid myself, I locked eyes with the dark fur of the creature I'd evaded. Instinct urged me to flee, yet a pitiful whine froze me mid-step, halting my escape.

"Go..." His voice, thick with pain, barely audible.

A shadow loomed over us, sending shivers down my spine. I turned, expecting to find a presence, but saw nothing. Still, a lingering sense of something unseen lingered, unsettling in its absence.

"You must run,” the creature's whisper startled me as I searched for the unseen assailant who had bested him.

"You're injured," I murmured as I abandoned the search and approached him cautiously.

He grunted in response as I drew near, allowing me a closer look. Seeing him up close diminished some of my fear.

The creature, more beast than man, possessed a flicker of humanity in his eyes as they met mine, a glimmer of concern as our eyes locked.

"You must leave," he persisted, voice edged with urgency. “You shouldn’t stay here.”

Surveying him for injuries, I replied, "You shouldn't stay here either."

Examining his visible wounds, I struggled to articulate to this beast why it felt unjust to abandon him, broken and bleeding, so I remained silent on the matter.

"Can you walk?" I inquired, scavenging for a stick to defend us both if necessary.

With effort, he managed to rise, one limb clearly worse than the others. Shallow breaths hinted at injured ribs, but fear still gripped me, hindering any closer examination.

"I told you to run,” he growled, fixing me with a glare.

"I also remember your promise of mercy," I countered nervously, uncertain he would follow through on his promise.

"I wouldn't be near death if you hadn't fled," he accused, teeth gritted, yet he limped onward, retracing our steps.

Silent, I scanned our surroundings, wary of the lurking danger.

"Why do you not run now that you have your chance?" he questioned, casting me a sidelong glance.

I met his gaze. "There's something else out there. Better the known beast than the unknown."

A quiet rumble emitted from the creature, almost like a chuckle, though I couldn't be sure amidst my vigilance of the surrounding woods.

"Has my presence been that unbearable?" he continued to question. His voice sounded as if it was tinged with emotional pain. It could have been his injuries, but it felt genuine, as if my escape had wounded him.

Surprised by the notion that he could be hurt by my actions, I glanced at him briefly, but my focus returned to scanning the shadows for the attacker.

"I simply wished to go home,” I explained.

He shook his head heavily. "Return... We had a deal. You agreed."

My eyes rolled impatiently at his words. The fear I once harbored for him had dissipated in the face of the greater threat that had the means to overpower the beast.

"Never-mind all that," I interjected. "What was that thing?"

"Something worse than me," he growled, a warning in his voice. "These woods teem with creatures more terrifying than myself. I was preoccupied searching for you. If not for that, I wouldn't be injured."

I scoffed. "So it's my fault?"

He turned, baring his teeth, their sharp points gleaming menacingly. "I told you not to run," he growled, his warning laced with frustration. "Out here, I can't protect you from every danger lurking in my wood.”

I frowned at his response. “Protect me? I'm your captive."

His demeanor was stiff. "Yes, you are." With that, he resumed his limping gait, leaving me to ponder the meaning behind his words.

Observing the blood gushing from a wound on his hip, I resumed scanning the shadows. “Are we still in danger?”

He grunted in response. "In this place, danger is ever-present and it is not always what you think it would be."