A Dream in My Deer Stand

Deer season. I waited all year for it. I loved that time of year when you left all the stressors of work and family back in the city for the invigorating country air. There was no air pollution, no noise pollution, not even light pollution. It was just me and the sunrise and the chirping of the birds, maybe the rustling of a few squirrels, but it was peaceful up there in my tree stand. I was alone with my thoughts as I waited for that trophy buck to walk into range. I had done my tracking. I had read all the signs and markings that deer passed through my spot. I kept my eyes and ears open but let my mind drift. Reconnecting with nature, there was nothing like it. Well, except the adrenaline pumping moment when I would make that kill.

I was in my tree, daydreaming about some renovations I planned on doing to the house. The sun was fully shining, drying up the dew and mist. I hadn’t seen or heard a thing all morning, so I decided to rattle my antlers to draw one in. It didn’t take long before a large eight-pointer emerged from the brush. I drew my bow and held it. He was facing me straight on and I was waiting for him to turn broadside, so I could get a good kill shot. A woman started singing, loudly, not too far away. The deer’s white tail went up and he leapt back into the brush.

I climbed down out of the tree and followed the singing. I wasn’t happy with this woman for scaring off the deer, but she shouldn’t have been wandering around the woods during deer season. It was a good way to get shot. I found her down by the stream, naked, washing clothes with a bar of soap, beating them on the rocks. I know I shouldn’t have been looking, but I couldn’t take my eyes off her.

“I know you’re there,” she said as she turned to face me.

She was incredibly fit with a youthful face and body. Her eyes were a blue that pierced straight through you. But her hair, her hair was a silky gray, long, full, and lustrous. It was hard to gauge her age, she was young and old at the same time, her voice sounding mature.

“Miss, I don’t think you should be out here. It’s deer season. You could get shot.”

“That’s why I sing. That, and to keep the deer from meeting untimely deaths. I’m assuming that’s your tree stand up the way.”

“Yeah, that’s mine, and you succeeded at scaring off a buck that would have filled my freezer.”

“And looked good on your wall too, I’m sure. What would you do if the animals could fight back?”

Just then that same buck I saw earlier charged me from out of nowhere. His head was down, looking to maim me. I dropped my bow and rolled out of the way. It turned around at the stream, snorting and pawing at the dirt, thrashing its head up and down. It charged again. I scrambled to my feet and dodged behind a tree. The deer turned and came back at me, so I swung around to the other side of the tree. I was waiting for the deer to circle around and come at me again, but he never did. When I peeked around the tree, he was gone.

I was breathless and covered with sweat, shaken by the close encounter with the deer. The woman approaches me and hands me my bow, “Here, you dropped your weapon,” she said with a playful smile and a whimsical twirl. Apparently, while I was fearing for my life, she was taking the time to put her wet dress on and an old pair of boots. “Come on, join me for breakfast. Then you can get back to your hunting.”

I looked around, scared that deer might pop up again. I saw no sign of it. Something about her was enchanting, so I followed her to a rustic little one room cabin with a porch. A big black wolf was laying in front of the door. He stood up. The hair on his back went up at the sight of me. He snarled at me, baring his teeth. I notched an arrow.

“Don’t do that. If you miss, he will tear you to shreds,” the woman warned me. “Wait here.”

The wolf greeted her like an excited puppy. She whispered in its ear, and it looked at me before laying back down. “Come on in. He’s fine now. He won’t bother you.” I withdrew my arrow and timidly walked past the wolf.

Inside, I could tell this woman lived meagerly. There wasn’t much more than a bed, table, and wood burning stove in there. She was cooking something mouthwatering. She dished each of us up a bowl and we ate. I tried to make small talk, but her answers were short. She was busy eyeing me up and down. Her intentions were clear. She wanted me and I wanted her. I was a married man who had never dreamed of cheating on my wife before meeting her, and I didn’t even know her name. All I knew was that I wanted her, and nobody would ever know if something happened between us.

We finished our breakfast and I stood to leave. She stopped me at the door, put her arms around me and started kissing me. I accepted the kisses and returned hers with some of my own. She pushed me to the bed and straddled me. She started kissing my neck. It felt so good. Then she bit me. I tried to push her off me, but she was much stronger than she looked. I fought at first, but the sensation of her drinking my blood was erotic and I gave into it. I began to feel like I was floating, like I was leaving my body behind. I wondered, who she was, what she was. Then I blacked out.

I was awakened outside of the cabin by a bucket of water. Night had fallen. She was standing over me, her hair now a vibrant blonde. “Thanks for the rejuvenating drink,” she said. “I swear, that’s all you hunters are good for. You tasted so good, I wanted to dink you dry, but my friends wanted vengeance for all the murders you’ve committed in these woods.”

She shined her torch towards the woods. Eyes of yellow, green, and red stared back at me. From the trees and brush stepped deer and coyote, wolf and bear, rabbit, squirrel, and turkey. Each one displayed anger in their own way, loudly, and viciously. “To make this fair, since I did drink most of your blood, we’re going to give you a head start. You better run.” I looked at her with fear in my eyes, not sure if she was serious, hoping she would help me. “Run,” She yelled from deep within her, with the intensity and low rumblings of a demon straight out of hell.

I stumbled off, weak and fatigued. I was terrorized by the thought of what those beasts could do to me if they caught me. I needed to outsmart them, but how much time did I have. It was so hard to think without an adequate supply of blood feeding my brain. I heard a howl and then a roar. I assumed that meant my head start had come to an end. My only hope was to cross the stream and get out of sight before they find me, so I pushed myself to my limits. I heard the stream ahead. I dragged myself along, tree to tree. Then the stream came into sight. I could hear the animals closing in behind me, trampling through the leaves. I reached the bank and heard a growl like bark. I turned and that black wolf was in the air, right on top of me.

I woke with a jolt in my tree stand, nearly fell off. I heard a rustling in the leaves down below. I drew my bow and aimed. To my surprise, it was a black wolf, gazing up at me with dark, menacing eyes. We looked at each other for what felt like an eternity. I relaxed my bow, and he wandered off. I don’t know if that was a coincidence or if mother nature was sending me a message, but some dreams disturb you right down to the fiber of your being. I gave up hunting that day and picked up a camera. I’ve been a wildlife photographer for eleven years now, hanging pictures on my wall rather than heads.