Whitetail Trail

Warning: Story contains sensitive content i.e. animal hunting

Sunlight dashed quickly away like a thief in the night and it had become bitterly cold. The wind began nipping at Ryan's neck and his brown corduroy hat dangled with glistening icicles.

He shifted his weight on the tree stand a bit and chumped on old chewing gum to focus on some thick brush a few feet below him. His buttocks were sore, his feet were extremely cold even with three pairs of socks stuffed in rugged combat boots, and his stomach rumbled loudly from hunger.

"Damn," he mumbled under his breath as the intense silence of Whitetail Trail began to frustrate and worry him.

The area simply known as Whitetail to experienced hunters had an infamous reputation for being eerily quiet and an old local myth claimed deer who had been hunted for sport always returned from the dead.

A majestic, huge oak tree stood tall on the trail blocking a carved statue from most visitors. The unassuming statue painted with black paint simply read "never hunt or eat sacred venison" and a clear hoof print appeared under the warning.

Ryan saw brush move from about 20 yards away and part of an antler peeping through the brush was stunningly beautiful.

His scope was aligned perfectly and Ryan stopped chewing his gum.

The gunshot reverbed through the forest as the bolt-action rifle bullet pierced the animal through his fur and heart.

"I got you finally!" he yelled as snow began falling rapidly. The animal's blood flowed rapidly onto the ground and mixed with newly fallen snow.

Ryan carefully made his way out of the tree stand and approached the beautiful animal. It was the whitest deer he had ever seen with large black antlers. It appeared to be male and he could hear shallow breathing. He carefully aimed his rifle and shot him once more near his lungs. Kneeling next to the deer he proudly took a selfie.

"Already got the spot picked out for these beauties," he said while surgically removing them and placing them in a large strapped backpack. "My birthday and holiday has just gotten a little bit brighter," he commented while walking away from the carcass.

He reached his old truck and placed the backpack in the the cab.

A partly frozen beer was in the cupholder and he guzzled it quickly before starting his pick up truck. "I'll be back tomorrow Whitetail, right after the championship game ends," he yelled. His truck stopped running but the radio kept playing opera and he hated opera.

Ryan tried starting the truck again.

"What the hell, just bought a new battery and got an oil change! This ain't happening."

The truck started and he quickly turned off the radio.

He also turned on his fog lights and blasted the heat while searching for the quickest interstate.

"Okay, yeah that's what I thought take Pine Road to I-85 just about twenty minutes away," he said while mocking the voice map assistant on his cell phone. The area was dense forest and had few lights to illuminate the roadway. Ryan also stayed near the Whitetail Trail beyond the recommended hours for visitors.

Opera began playing on his truck radio and on the cell phone as he sped through Whitetail and approached the main interstate. He peered through fog and glanced in his rear view mirror.

"Oh no, no, no it can't be!" he yelled.

Loud grunting and snorting from a distance shattered the truck's rear window.

A large silhouette shaped like a deer chased angrily behind the truck.

The animal was pasty white with overgrown black antlers and had piercing dark eyes. Ryan was horrified as the deer began to outpace his truck and fly by the driver side window.

He desperately punched his accelerator but the vehicle wouldn't go faster.

His truck headlights also dimmed without cause.

The silhouette was no longer in view and Ryan tried to brake.

His brakes would not engage but the truck began to pick up speed.

He closed his eyes as a tear fell from one of them.

The Whitetail deer silhouette waited for Ryan and charged the truck head first.

The incredible impact of his black antlers pushed the pick up off the road and down an embankment. The bitter cold and snow kept falling for hours in the remote area and it was Christmas Eve.

Ryan's friends kept calling his phone but only voicemail came on. They immediately turned to social media seeking help in search of their beloved friend.

The buzz about his visit to Whitetail was a trending story for hours and even the local news encouraged anyone with tips to call a hotline. A reward for his safe return or whereabouts topped nearly $35,000.

Authorities advised due to extreme weather conditions, a search could not be successfully conducted until daylight hours.

Rangers combed the area the very next day and discovered Ryan's badly damaged truck. According to authorities there was blood found in and around his vehicle. Also they reported that oddly, opera was playing loudly on the damaged truck's radio.

Canines along with veteran rangers searched Whitetail for more than three consecutive days but turned up empty handed. As an observance of Christmas along with a traditional local holiday, including parades, winter festivals, and more the search for Ryan didn't resume until the beginning of the new year.

His social media content was in the cloud and easily downloaded for a forensic team who worked tirelessly to solve his disappearance.

However, a tribe of Native Americans warned and suggested Ryan's demise was due to his actions at Whitetail. The viral post garnered over a million views in one day. Some believed the tribe and others blasted them for being inconsiderate and evil.

Strangely, Ryan's body was never recovered and his backpack containing the antlers disappeared too.

The Whitetail Trail closed permanently after Ryan's tragedy and the statue with the carving was donated to a museum who stored artifacts believed to support local myths and urban legends.

Some say and still believe spirits of deer watch over the mysterious Whitetail Trail.