The Deer Stalker

CONTENT WARNING: This story contains mature content. Mature content includes a sex scene, depictions of abuse, and ambiguous survival of the main character.

(Story has also been published on Medium.)

Chapter 1

She stumbled over a rock hidden by the grass. The impact of hitting the ground jolted her hands as she landed. Looking up, Emily saw how close she had come to the forest’s edge. The leaves rustled in the canopy high, high above. It was green and inviting. It was also probably cooler in there.

Standing, she straightened her grass-stained pinafore over the many other layers of skirts and fabric she had been ordered to wear by her mother. Emily scowled as she brushed an errant ribbon which had flicked across her face. She could hardly take a step towards her intended destination before fast, heavy footfalls closed in behind her, and a large hand tightly grabbed her upper arm.

“EMILY!” her mother hissed, pulling her up short. Emily’s gaze whirled to the terrified expression of her mother, and she felt afraid too. What had she done wrong?

It was a sunny day, butterflies lilting easily on a gentle breeze, with the cows grazing contentedly in the next field. Distant laughter floated across from the village nearby, and birds sang in the distance. Yet Emily’s mother had sprinted from the house to grab her and pull her back home, scolding her the entire way.

“You are NEVER to go near that forest!” she snarled, her grip still tight on Emily’s small arm, “It’s dangerous, and full of things that could hurt you!”

Emily’s punishment was a simple sandwich at the kitchen table opposite Grandma, who chewed her own meal slowly. Emily sighed. If she had other children to play with, the forest wouldn’t be so enticing. It was difficult to find a field interesting to explore. Emily’s mother fussed about the house, muttering to herself various unheard problems Emily caused her. But Emily was only a child, not a fool. She knew the muttering was directed at her.

She took a thoughtful bite out of her sandwich, wondering how she could escape her mother’s ire for the rest of the evening. Grandma raised her eyes at Emily.

“Want to hear why that forest is so dangerous?” She whispered conspiratorially. Emily nodded, her eyes full of sadness. Grandma nodded resolutely, tilting her head to the back door.

“Meet me outside.”

The afternoon was spent in the afternoon sun, Grandma chopping onions next to the water pump while regaling tales of the fae. The child-stealers. The name-collectors. Those who bewitched and enslaved. Those who devoured young girls. Emily listened, enraptured, at the stories. They were filled with such magic, and fantasy, that she couldn’t help but ask for more.

“Grandma, aren’t there any nice fae? Fae who help people who get lost?”

Grandma pursed her lips and thought for a moment. Then she shook her head.

“Those fae are just trying to trick you. Never follow a fae, otherwise you won’t be able to find your way back home.”

Chapter 2

Years later, Emily recalled the face of her Grandmother as her back started to twinge, leaning over her tiny wooden desk for hours. Her dress was tightly buttoned, from wrist to collar, revealing nothing but her face, hands, and feet. It was uncomfortably stuffy in the classroom, helped in part by the four layers she had to dress in each morning. Undergarment, petticoat, dress, and pinafore. In winter, the added layers with stockings and gloves were welcome. But the sun was shining, younger children were playing outside, and she was stuck indoors making notes on the religious text she was assigned by the Priest.

The classroom contained four girls, and Emily was the eldest. Mary was next, two years younger, then Claire and Laura had been born five years later. The study-classes were held for three hours each day except Sundays and during the Harvest, led by the Priest to prepare them for suitable marriages. It was widely endorsed by the whole village. During Mass on Sundays the older women would enquire after the skills they had learned, the lessons they had attended, and whether they were told that it was time to be Matched.

The last girl to be Matched was Georgia, a girl three years older than Emily. She was now a mother of four children, and strutted proudly wherever she went, catching the light on her ring as much as she could. She was a long-haired blonde, slender and demure. The line of men vying for her hand almost wrapped around her father’s house before he had selected the son of a wealthy Exporter, who took the Harvest to a city miles from the village and put the coin into his personal estate. Being married to that son meant that Georgia wanted for nothing — the finest dresses, parties where she was lauded and admired, and nannies to watch her children so she was free to lunch and travel as she wished. The Priest used her often, as an example for what a godly woman could attain if she studied well and obeyed her parents.

Emily, on the other hand, knew that wasn’t solely the case. Emily knew that Georgia had so many offers for marriage because she was pretty, and submissive. Her studiousness mattered little when all she had to do was pout and curl her hair around her finger when she couldn’t answer a question. Obeying her parents didn’t factor much into the young men’s desire to make her their wife. Despite only three years’ difference in age, only one man had made an offer for Emily. The man in question was the odious shopkeeper in the Village Square, long past his prime and prone to making lecherous comments when he thought women were out of earshot. He made offers to every woman who was of age to be married, and every self-respecting parent refused him. In Emily’s case, however, she feared that he was her only option. But the thought of being touched by the greasy, leering, clammy-fingered man made her feel ill. The other young men had mysteriously disappeared when presented with the village’s second option.

Emily the Grump. Emily the stodge. Scowler. She had earned these nicknames helping her mother raise her many siblings. It was stressful, being responsible for five children who didn’t listen, but it was her task anyway. It didn’t help that her back hurt from carrying water to the kitchen, or that she had to wake at dawn to put fresh feed in the trough for the cows and horse. She wanted to please her parents — she really did — but it was hard. So, so hard. She was constantly exhausted. And heavily criticized. And that wasn’t when her father was in one of his screaming fits.

“Hey Scowler, unbutton your blouse a little!” The cooper’s son called as she walked home from the study room. She pretended not to hear, as instructed, and kept her back straight as she walked.

“Come on, give us something pleasant to look at for once!”

The interactions didn’t improve once she returned home. She could hear the squealing emenating from the house streets away. As soon as she stepped in the door her mother shoved her youngest sibling into her arms. Emily’s mother demanded, “take them”, before slamming pots and pans down on the table. Her baby sister was squalling for some reason Emily didn’t know, but she sighed and obeyed anyway. This involuntary reaction only drew her mother’s ire. The woman sneered,

“Don’t know what you’re so tired about. You’ve been sitting in that study room all morning. I’ve been running this house alone!”

“Yes mama, sorry mama.”

Emily’s straight back cowed as she was suddenly wracked with guilt. Her mother was right — being alone in that house was a nightmare. She took the hand of a toddler sister and drew the noisy crowd outside to give her mother some peace. Her mother’s weary, wrinkled face perpetually frowning over the food she prepared.

At this moment, Emily’s younger sister flounced into the yard. Miriam was quite similar to Georgia, in that she was pretty and fair. Like Georgia, she already had a line of adoring men waiting to make their offers. She was Father’s favourite. Beside their brother, of course.

Miriam deftly picked up the crying sibling and soothed her within moments, patting her back absently as she turned her attention to Emily.

“Sooo…what did you learn in class? What are you doing to prepare for your Match?”

Miriam was due to start her own lessons later that year, encouraged by the town’s interest in her marriage. Accepting the compliment with grace, Miriam hounded Emily for information each day during their chores. Emily picked up a pitchfork and headed to the stable to clear out the mess.

“The usual. Scripture. Thinking about what gifts we can bring to the home. You’ll get the hang of it quickly.”

Miriam rolled her eyes, attracting the demands for an embrace from each of her younger siblings like a magnet. Emily stretched her back before shoveling the dirty hay into a barrow.

After dinner, it was Emily’s turn to do the dishes. Standing up from the table, her younger brother sauntered to the door and waved.

“Alright, I’ll be out.”

He wandered out into the evening air without a word of protest from her parents. The role of a son was to be seen and demonstrate his worth to his future spouse. So he was given complete freedom to do as he pleased outside of the Harvest, lounging about with his friends all day. Emily squeezed her lips tight as she scrubbed the pots vigorously. She hated this job — animal shit was one thing, but wet food was almost as disgusting as the shopkeeper. She finished her job swiftly, stretching her aching back again, before moving to the table to wipe it down.

“What’s that expression for.” Her father demanded. Emily froze, cloth in hand. What expression?

“Don’t play dumb with me — you should be grateful to live in a house that provides for you, but you wrinkle your nose at contributing to it, huh?”

Carefully, Emily clasped her hands together and looked at her father. The wiry, unpleasant man was lounging in a chair beside the kitchen table. His mouth twisted in an expression of displeasure as he jutted his chin out. His tone was sharp, prickly, and ripe for escalation. But he wasn’t yelling. Yet.

“No papa, I just don’t like touching the dirty wat-“

“NO EXCUSES.” He roared. Emily flinched. She hated how fast her heart pounded in her chest, and how quickly that man raised his voice. He slammed the palm of his hand onto the table, making it rattle. Emily felt her hands shake, hidden by the cloth.

“Fix your attitude.” He sneered, hissing through his teeth. His eyes flashed with a coldness that had been there ever since Emily was four years old. Ever since she started being expected to help with the chores. Ever since she continued to disappoint him. Never smiling enough. Never cheerful enough. Always complaining, she was. It was her fault he yelled, most of the time. She wasn’t Miriam. She wasn’t popular, or someone her father could boast about to others. Emily nodded.

“Yes, papa.”

She busied herself with cleaning the table, then fled to her room. Miriam shot her a pitying look as she passed her on the stairs, but her mother shook her head disappointingly.

“Stay out of his way next time.” Her mother muttered. Emily gently closed her bedroom door, tears blurring her vision. It was hard to turn the handle quietly when she could barely see it, but waking her siblings who had just been put to bed would make everyone’s evening miserable. Holding a pillow to her face, she sobbed into it. There was little else that she could do.

Chapter 3

A few weeks later, Emily’s mind wandered during Mass. Nobody noticed — a peacefully vacant expression was considered especially pious while the sermon was droning on, and it was one of the few things she was complimented on. How saintly she looked! What a devout, god-fearing woman! She might scowl outside the church, but perhaps that was because she preferred silent prayer. Her virtue was her only positive attribute, but young men didn’t want a virtuous woman. They wanted one who was…distractible.

Little did they know, Emily’s mind wandered to think of the asses of the farm hands which had assisted during the last Harvest. With only one son, her father needed more help to wrangle the cows, so he hired help from other villages. And last year, some of them were particularly fine.

Stocky, muscular specimens who were polite to her mother, and who placated her father with their presence. She did her best not to behave immorally in their presence, only sneaking the occasional glance when they removed their shirts in the autumn sun. She pretended to be too busy to notice their large hands, the taut fabric of their pants, and the easy smiles they shared with everyone. She kept those memories for herself. To entertain her when the Priest decided to spend 20 minutes lecturing the community on the importance of remembering to be Godly in their daily lives.

That night, like most months when she found it difficult to focus on her prayers and studies, she quietly went to bed complaining of a headache. Once the rest of the family were in bed, lights out, she lifted her nightgown and explored herself. Touching her nipples, her ass, her labia. She gently stroked, probed and flicked. Desperate for release, but unable to find it. Sighing grumpily, she removed her hands in resignation and rolled over to sleep.

* * *

The next day Emily’s father awoke in a foul mood, so Emily excused herself to look after the livestock to dodge an argument. Watching the cows was simple enough — checking fences, observing each beast to identify if it looked sick or injured, and reporting back. It bought her a few moments of peace, and she could relax without having to do anything for a change.

Once out in the field, she sat on a post and stared at the forest. The Forbiddance, the Harbourer of Fae. The origin of her Grandmother’s tales, and the evil which provided a convenient bogeyman for the Priest to threaten sinners with. Sin, and the Fae will surely come for you. She thought about it for a while.

Surely it couldn’t be so bad, to escape with the fae. Perhaps it would be nice, not to be yelled at. She’d happily give her name away to scrub floors if it meant she was left alone. As the sun began to set, she headed back inside where her father was placated by her mother’s attentions. He sat in his favourite chair, mug of tea at his side while her mother swept the fireplace before starting dinner.

“I’ll get the vegetables.” Emily offered. Being proactive was a virtue, of course. A godly woman was virtuous.

The peace was short-lived when, just as dinner was getting served, a sharp knock at the door interrupted the event. Opening it, Emily’s father revealed their brother held by the scruff of his shirt by a police constable.

“Officer…?” Emily’s father asked, her brother tossed roughly inside the house. The officer handed the father a knife by its handle.

“No disrespect to you or your honourable family, sir,” the officer explained to the man’s confused face, “but if I catch your son carrying this in the street again I’ll lock him up. Understood?”

“Understood.”

The boy slinked around to the table and reached for a plate before the door closed behind the constable. Face red with fury, Emily’s father turned to his son and slapped the boy’s hand away.

“YOU EMBARRASS ME BY PULLING THIS SHIT!?” He roared. The youngest siblings began to cry, so Miriam and Emily scooped them up and took them to the laundry room to calm down. Leaving them in the room to make a din would only make things worse.

Despite how frequently she found herself annoyed with her youngest siblings, Emily couldn’t help but to permit her toddler sister’s tiny hands to clasp desperately behind her neck. Emily lifted her tiny body close, holding it until the child stopped sobbing. Emily and Miriam knelt on the stone floor of the laundry, holding their younger sisters close, while willing their own hearts to stop pounding. They weren’t the ones in trouble, but it didn’t seem to matter. The peace had been broken. Emily petted her toddler sister’s head gently, partially to calm her own nerves.

The four hid in their bubble of care and kindness towards each other until their mother entered with plates, shutting the door behind her so they could eat in relative peace. The single wooden door did little to muffle the shouts of the two in the kitchen, father roaring at son and son shrieking back. Miriam wiped the tears from her baby sister’s cheeks and forced herself to smile, voice slightly too high pitched to convince anyone that she wasn’t afraid too. Yet she persisted, insisting that the food was ‘yum yum!’ and spooning it into the baby’s mouth tenderly. Emily, slightly less natural with young children, simply held the toddler until they moved to get food on their own. Their mother ate sullenly, rolling her eyes at her daughters. For ‘over-reacting’, as she often put it.

When stomps up the stairs indicated that the fight was over, Emily’s mother patted her cheek and gestured that she should smile when she walked back out. Emily nodded wordlessly, four girls hiding their fear behind a mask of congeniality. Miriam tickled her baby sibling to promote a giggle, and the father simmered, eating his dinner in irritable silence.

Chapter 4

The hum-drum of daily village life was rustled by a new, fantastical tale. Laura, Mary, and Claire gathered around the school tables early that morning, pulling Emily in to join the gossip.

“They call them the Deer Stalker!”

“It’s tall, and dark, and has antlers like a stag!”

“But they have sharp teeth, and claws, and-“

“He howls at night, and eats sheep raw.”

Emily widened her eyes in concern, looking at the excited faces of her classmates.

“What…?” She asked, incredulously. Mary nodded energetically, blue eyes bright.

“It’s true! My brother said he saw it while walking the other night. He said that it was hunting virgins, which is why it’s best that we don’t go out at night until hunters catch it.”

Emily raised an eyebrow, smelling bullshit.

“Really.” She accused, folding her arms. “That’s why we’re cooped up all night. And what about the last nineteen years before the Deer Stalker appeared…?”

The conversation was interrupted by the Priest setting his book down heavily on the table, tutting.

“Now, girls, it doesn’t do to give in to gossip. Particularly fanciful gossip. What would your future husbands think, to hear such silly tales??”

Chastened, the girls bowed their heads and returned to their seats to begin their day of studies.

The rumours about the eldritch beast roaming the hills spread like wildfire, as young men gallantly puffed their chests out and declared their intentions to hunt the beast at night.

“I’ll catch it and string it up in the town square, you’ll see!”

“Hey, do you think that will win you Miriam’s hand?”

“Oooh, now that’s an idea…”

The wives and husbands were also stirred into a flurry of conversation, stopping in the street to discuss the issue when they would normally pass each other by with a simple nod. Emily’s father grumbled at the risk to his cows if young lads went about shooting in the night. Georgia pretended to be concerned as she insisted that her husband buy more hounds for the estate to protect their dear children. Everyone had an opinion, and everyone was on the lookout. At night, doors were locked and guns were loaded. Even the boys weren’t allowed to roam like before, which added to the element of fear. Emily and Miriam knitted by the fireplace after putting the youngest to bed, desperately hoping that being cooped up with them didn’t encourage their brother to start a fight.

They needn’t have bothered. The row was somewhat inevitable.

Miriam and her mother fled upstairs to calm the babies while Emily dashed outside to escape the noise. She was more terrified of her father and brother’s red faces in that moment than any threat of a wandering fae.

She spotted the horse whinnying and rising in its stable. Sighing with relief, she began petting the beast, glad for the pretence to be outside. The horse was causing a commotion! She didn’t want it to injure itself, after all. As her heartbeat slowed, so too did the horse’s. They stood silently together for a moment, glad for the distance between themselves and the house.

After a moment, a movement caught Emily’s eye. Outside the stable, in the field beyond, a tall and shadowy figure crested the hill. She continued to brush the horse slowly, glad that it couldn’t see behind itself. A sudden chill froze her feet to the ground.

It had antlers.

Its elongated legs bent the wrong way, curving like the back legs of her horse. Easily over six foot tall, perhaps even seven, the creature appeared to have a human torso. Its heavy hooves moved slowly as it wandered, head raised like it was looking for something. Then he turned-

Emily ducked, praying he didn’t spot her. The heavy footfalls grew closer. Fumbling for her prayer beads, she clasped them in a shaky hand and recited her prayers. Deliver her from harm. Please, please, I don’t want to die…

The footfalls stopped, and a shadow blocked the moonlight. Slowly, Emily looked up, heart pounding. There, looming over the back window of the stable, was a face. His eyes burned like the blue of a candle flame. She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound escaped. The horse stirred nervously.

The creature stood there for a moment, just watching, before turning away and moving on. It took a good few minutes for Emily to catch her breath and stumble out of the stable, but by then the Deer Stalker was long gone. Risking her father’s attention, she dashed back inside the house.

Chapter 5

After studies the next day, Emily found a lock of long, dark hair behind the stable. Her memory of the Deer Stalker was still fresh in her mind, but she dare not tell anyone of her experience. Lest they label her as ‘crazy’, or fuelling the fire of salacious gossip. She had enough going on without additional labels. Tucking the hair into her pocket, Emily kept it hidden until she could secret it away in a notch in her bed frame, below her mattress. Nobody ever looked there, and nobody ever would.

The next few days were full of talks of sightings. The next few nights were punctuated with gunshots. That Sunday, the priest’s sermon was centred on how irrelevant the fae were to god-fearing people. That this ‘creature’ could be driven off by prayer and faith.

“It never set foot near this church!” He cried, raising his hands to the sunbeams filtered through lazily floating specks of dust, “It is scared by the power of our Lord!”

The priest’s sermon appeared to calm the older folk, but Emily quietly chewed on the inside of her lip. Her rosary didn’t do much — the Deer Stalker had walked right up to the wall of the barn despite her desperate prayers. The only thing that stopped it was…

…What, exactly?

Despite the priest’s own complaints, the Deer Stalker became the focus of his lessons, too. As an example of evil temptation. Of the threat to lead them astray, and deny them from their future husbands. He pointed at each one of them, and they straightened in their seats.

“You four…you, especially…” He pointed at Emily last, “…are almost Of Age. You should focus on the Lord, and his mercy, and preparing for your husbands.”

Emily’s mind flashed the memory of her mother. Bent over, back aching, and constantly sneering at her. Her mother only seemed pleased when she got to speak to her father, and even then…if her children interrupted, her demeanour would sour again. Her mother was miserable, and her father mostly ignored it for his convenience.

Then her mind wandered. She wondered what it would be like, had the Deer Stalker entered the stable that night, and pulled her away…

Those thoughts continued in Emily’s dreams.

Emily dreamed that he stood there, as he did that night. Bright, luminescent eyes burning into her soul. Her cheeks warmed, but she didn’t hold her rosary. The horse mysteriously disappeared, and so too did the walls between them. Silently, he paced around her in a circle. First to the left, then to the right. She watched him placidly. It was easy to admire him once she felt safe — his strong muscles twitching as they lifted his legs over stones and logs. His long, curled hair, strands lifting in a gentle breeze. He moved effortlessly, like a prize stallion. Powerful and graceful, and strong enough to kill you if you were foolish enough to get within kicking distance.

After what felt like hours he closed the distance between them, the circle having grown less and less wide as he moved. Emily tilted her face up towards him, drinking in the sight of his high cheekbones. His straight jaw. His gentle gaze. It was nothing like the wiry cruelty of her father, the suffering elitism of the priest, or the greasy leer of the shopkeeper. It was something she wanted to get to know better.

He leaned towards her, hands outstretched. He gently clasped her wrists, pulling them down to her sides, as he closed in to give her a kiss-

“No!” She gasped, “You mustn’t!”

He froze, then let go of her wrists. Shocked at the effectiveness of her command, Emily blinked up at him and shivered. He was completely naked, the fur on his legs covering most of his manhood. She gulped.

“You do not wish for me to approach you?” He asked.

His voice was surprisingly smooth, and deep. Deeper than any of the men in the village.

Emily thought for a moment, then shook her head.

“I…that’s the only response we’re told to give…” she confessed, blushing,

“We’re to deny any man who doesn’t wed us. It’s the mark of a Good Woman…I guess…”

The Deer Stalker leaned in, a smile on his lips. His eyes flashed of something quietly mischievous as he held her gaze again.

“Ah, so you want to be a Good Woman?”

Emily thought of her mother, a ‘Good Woman’, then shook her head, more vigorously this time.

“Being a Good Woman seems…awful. I hate it. I hate what it does to my free-”

His lips met hers, and they were silken and soft. Up close, she smelled a flower she had never smelled before. It was sweet, and fragrant, like a perfume Georgia had never worn. But it’s what she would wear, if only she could get it.

Emily placed her hands on his shoulders. His warm, muscled shoulders. He pulled back slightly, eyes half-closed, smiling more widely.

“I still want you to make noises, my dear.” He encouraged, brushing the tip of his nose against hers. “But try something a little more…like this…”

He brushed his fingertips across the nape of her neck, and she gasped.

Chapter 6

When Emily awoke from her dream, she was blushing furiously. They were sinful, sinful acts! Her mind had completely gone to the gutter, beyond any of her fantasies in Church. Plunging her face into the basin of water in her room, she willed herself to calm down. She had work to do. No time for sinfulness and lust.

That week, she sank herself into chores and prayers. Scrubbing floors and shoveling hay was the best remedy for remembering her dream. Yet each night, He would come back. The dreams progressed from kissing, to touching. Caressing, diligent work with their hands. It was wonderful, yet Emily never spoke a word of it. Soon, she began to look forward to nightfall.

* * *

It had been weeks since the last sighting of the Deer Stalker, and the gunshots ricocheted across the hills with less frequency than before. Emily’s family, like the others, became emboldened by the idea that the creature had been scared off. Evening chores became less strict again, and the boys were free to wander. Taking the opportunity to enjoy the cool night air and the improvement in her parents’ moods, Emily went to brush the horse down again. The part of her mind which lingered on her dreams wondered if the Deer Stalker would appear again, and she peered out of the stables.

Nothing. With a pang of disappointment, she finished her chores and headed back inside.

They were only dreams, she told herself as she silently worked. Nothing of substance. Nothing that God couldn’t forgive. Not if she prayed, and was a Good Woman in her waking hours. Emily resigned herself. She could eventually cleanse her mind. This was perhaps a final throe of childhood, a test from God to see if she was ready for her future.

That night, for the first time since she could remember, Emily was praised at the dinner table instead of Miriam.

“Finally.” Her father scoffed.

“Pardon?” she asked. Her father lifted his cup.

“Finally, you’ve gotten your priorities right. Since the lads have been hunting that fae you’ve been dutiful, and pleasant. No complaining, no scowling, and focussed on your prayers. More of that in public and you’ll be seen as a model woman, isn’t that right?”

He turned to Emily’s mother, who nodded tiredly before spooning food into her youngest child’s mouth. Emily’s father turned back to her.

“Not to say nobody else has noticed. I got compliments from the priest, who encouraged your attention to the Holy Books instead of the trash you usually read.”

He waved his hand in a gesture to the small pile of novels neatly arranged beside the mantle. Emily’s cheeks reddened.

“And thanks to your good behaviour, I finally found you a Match!”

Emily and Miriam politely cleared their throats, avoiding choking on their food. Her what?!

“You remember the good, god-fearing family with ten children down the way? Accountant, good money, good lineage.”

Emily put her spoon down to clasp her hands in her lap. They were trembling. Despite her dedicated focus to be chaste and obedient and forget her dreams of the Deer Stalker, she found herself horrified at the news. Her father went on,

“Their eldest is about your age, and they go to mass each Sunday like we do. Respectable folk. The father has agreed to accept you into his home, provided that you behave as well as you have this past week.”

Emily kept her eyes firmly focused on the table. It was difficult to breathe. She was afraid. Not like when her father yelled. A different fear. A fear of the look in her mother’s eyes. Ten children!? She and her mother could barely cope with five…

Even ignoring that, Emily had little memory of this person suggested as a match. They’d met, briefly, but never spoken. Her father’s voice began to fade away, carrying on about how ‘this was the best thing that could happen to our family, all things considered’ and how ‘if you have a lot of grandchildren, all your inconveniences can be forgiven…’

At the last point, the weighted silence hung in the air. Miriam squealed in delight, hugging her sister despite Emily’s shocked expression.

“Isn’t this exciting!!?!? Oh my gosh, you’re getting married! And to someone who’s not awful!!”

Emily nodded, careful to remember her father’s temper. But he didn’t seem to have one that night, grinning.

“See, she’s so surprised she can’t speak! We all thought you’d end up with that shopkeeper, eh? Just goes to show, the benefits of being a good woman these days…”

Emily felt like her mind was floating outside of her body. Good woman. The memory of the Deer Stalker’s face came to mind. She didn’t want to be a good woman. She felt quietly desperate. Anything…anything but that…

The thought left Emily feeling torn. She had prepared her whole life for this. So why wasn’t she happy? Every interaction, every lesson, every thing she’d ever done…was to prepare her for marriage. Yet as she washed the dishes Emily considered running away. Cutting her hair, and living as a boy. The idea of running away filled her with greater hope than the knowledge that she was already betrothed.

She’d make a decent stable hand, and nobody would look at her twice. Boys weren’t yelled at for scowling. It would be a good life. Cold, and perhaps hungry, but at least she would be free. Her mother placed a hand on her shoulder, and Emily turned.

“Nice work.” Her mother said, smiling weakly.

For the first time, there was no venom. No hidden barb couched in a false compliment. It was a genuine, honest comment. Emily masked her surprise with a smile.

“Thanks, mama.”

With a pat on the shoulder, Emily’s mother moved on to leave her daughter wracked with guilt. For the first time it seemed like she was finally doing something right. So why did she feel like being sick?

Tucked up in bed, Emily’s mind wandered to the forest again. How it called to her, when she was a child. She could go and find that Deer Stalker. If it did, indeed, talk. Her dreams were fiction, of course, but maybe…it hadn’t attacked her or her horse that night. It couldn’t be that dangerous, right? Perhaps it only ate sheep…

The dreams she had with the Deer Stalker were still sinful, but became laced with running. Running into the forest. Running out across the fields and into the mists beyond. Each time, the Deer Stalker ran with her.

“Where are we going?” he’d ask.

“Anywhere.” She’d reply. “Anywhere but here.”

As the days passed and word spread of her engagement, her decision became resolute. She would cut her hair and run away. The pats on the back, the cheerful squeals of her classmates, and the haughty look of approval from Georgia was almost too much to bear. The memories sank in her stomach, feeling bitter and heavy.

“You’ll have an easy time producing children with that genetic line…” Georgia giggled after mass that Sunday, tipping her hat towards the seemingly never-ending trail of children that followed behind Emily’s future father-in-law. Emily faked a smile and nodded. The eldest son turned, and gave a polite wave, lips firmly pressed together in a half-smile.

From that look alone, Emily knew. He hated the arrangement as much as she did.

A simple word, a kind gesture, even some genuine excitement for the match might have swayed her feelings. She wouldn’t run from someone who showed affection, but this young man considered her as poorly as everyone else in the village. An unfavourable choice. Someone to be ‘put up’ with. She shuddered.

That night, she packed some of her brother’s old clothes into a satchel and waited for the lights to go out. Once her father’s footsteps landed heavily in his room, and stopped, Emily bided her time for a few agonizing minutes before tip-toeing down the stairs.

Each breath, each step, felt like an eternity. Her ears listened intently for any sound that indicated her fate was sealed, but none came.

Her foot landed on a creaky floorboard in front of the fireplace and she froze, hearing the rustling of bedsheets upstairs. Had she woken a sibling?? Her parents?

Standing in perfect stillness, Emily waited. And waited.

Silence fell again.

When she reached the back door and slowly unlatched it, grateful to muffle the click with her pinafore, she breathed a sigh of relief. Using a trick learned from her brother, she latched it again by dislodging a loose window pane with a ‘clunk’, and closed it from the outside. She replaced the pane securely with an uncomfortable grinding sound, then dashed out into the moonless night.

Chapter 7

It was easy, finding her way to the forest in near pitch-black. She’d run there countless times in her dreams. Walked to the edge of the field during the day. She fled, lungs aching for more air as her feet pounded the ground. Once she reached the edge of the tree line, she pulled out a pair of scissors stolen from the kitchen and hacked at her hair, tossing the braid aside. She cut it, shorter and shorter, not caring how it looked. Bending down, she rubbed dirt on her cheeks. Anything to hide her appearance. She was going to change her name. She was going to become August. It was a fine name, and hopefully enough to trick anyone who didn’t look too closely. There were plenty of soft-faced young boys out there. She could become one of them.

She walked into the forest for the first time, aware of its eerie stillness. Her bare feet not disturbing a single leaf, moving as noiselessly as she did in the house. But this place had no creaking floorboards, no heavy latches. She remembered that she had left her bedroom door open in her haste, and she cursed her lack of attention to detail.

Damnit. Ah well, no going back now.

The memory of the Deer Stalker interrupted her careful focus. His hands. His eyes. Running her own hands through his long, dark and curled hair. She paused, caught her breath, and focused again. No time for fancy, she told herself, we’ve got to get this right.

Reaching a clearing in the forest, beyond view of the field, Emily stopped. She looked at the mushrooms that circled the clearing, leaving a perfect patch of soft grass in the centre. With a deep breath, she stepped into it.

Nothing happened.

Daring to whisper, the called out in the ways her Grandmother had described in her fairy stories.

“Deer Stalker,” she hissed into the darkness between the trees, “I summon thee.”

In her mind, she imagined that tall, antlered creature with a man’s face.

The leaves rustled, a twig snapped, but still nothing. With an impatient sigh, she looked about, fearing that she had been followed.

She couldn’t be caught in her skirts, not when she was trying to pass as a boy. Before calling to the Deer Stalker again, she pulled her brother’s old trousers out of her satchel and wriggled out of her nightgown. As the fabric of her night-gown was over her head, she heard heavy foot falls. Emily froze. She looked towards the source of the sound.

Standing at the edge of the clearing was the Deer Stalker. Eyes burning. Antlers disappearing into the darkness above him. Emily felt her heart race again, trembling. The Deer Stalker didn’t move. Didn’t say a word. Just stood there, watching. Emily dared to put on her brother’s shirt, aware of the Deer Stalker’s bright blue eyes. A familiar pressure arose between her legs and she felt herself blushing.

Straightening the shirt, Emily kicked her nightdress away and faced the fae. Her many dreams of him had made her bold.

“Well?” She demanded, “Aren’t you going to kill me now?”

The Deer Stalker’s brows gently furrowed. He tilted his head to the side,

“What do you mean?”

Emily’s heart leapt into her throat. He sounded exactly as she’d dreamed. She exhaled, steadying her hands.

“You’re the Deer Stalker. You’re a fae. You…you’re dangerous.”

He stepped into the clearing. There was no moon, but the light of the stars barely illuminated him. And his eyes. His bright, smouldering eyes. Emily was entranced by them. She noticed that his hooves were much bigger than those of her horse. Up close, he was just as intimidating as before, but Emily held fast to her position. He didn’t scare her as much as her father did. How the wiry, unpleasant man might beat her if he discovered what she’d just done. She clenched her fists. Any fate was better than that.

“You’re a woman. You’re a human. And you’re…not dangerous?” He asked. Emily blinked. She hadn’t expected that.

“Well, no…” she stammered, caught off guard, “Women don’t…I mean, we shouldn’t…we’re not…”

The Deer Stalker crouched down to be at eye-level with Emily, an amused smile on his lips.

“So…you think yourself Undangerous. Interesting.”

He began to pace around the magic circle, just as he’d done in her dreams. It felt familiar, like the old stories Grandmother had woven in her earliest days. Fae liked circles. Emily let him pace, anticipating a blow at any moment. Her shoulders were set and stiff.

“Why did you summon me, human?” He asked as he moved back into her view. Emily straightened herself.

“I wish …to be Taken Away.”

The sound of his heavy hooves stopping caused a shiver to run down her spine. She looked up at his face, which he had tilted back in a curious expression. Emily couldn’t quite pinpoint what the expression meant, but it reminded her of the time the Priest had received new vestments from Rome. The look he’d given them at the post office after gently unwrapping them from their packaging. Something…coveting.

“Taken Away.” He repeated slowly. Emily nodded, swallowing.

“If you won’t take me away…to the place you live…where fae folk go…I shall run away someplace else. I don’t care. But I don’t want to live here any longer.”

The stillness, the silence, lingered in the air. Emily’s heart beat with exhilaration. It was the bravest thing she’d ever done, and her legs quivered with adrenaline. She could run all night, if she had to. She’d do it. Defiantly, she frowned up at the Deer Stalker, whose eyes narrowed.

“I can’t give you something for nothing.” He finally replied. Emily nodded.

“I can cook. I can clean, and gather, and take care of livestock.”

“More than that.”

“Anything. Name it.”

The Deer Stalker held up a hand, closing his eyes.

“Not so fast, this is a big deal. Travel to the Fae lands carries a heavy price.”

“So name it.” Emily muttered, gritting her teeth. She didn’t have time for this conversation. The longer she waited, the more likely her father could catch up to her. She folded her arms. The Deer Stalker continued frowning, moving closer. He loomed over her, blue eyes flashing brighter than ever.

“Very well. It needs to be something irreversible. Something which holds value. Something…only you can give. A piece of yourself. Do you understand?”

Emily remembered the tales of her grandmother. How giving away something to the fae sealed contracts. An exchange of favours, or knowledge, was powerful. It’s why they always asked for your name. Once known, it couldn’t be taken back. One’s name gave the fae power over you, so you were never to utter it in their presence. Emily swallowed.

“My name is-“

His hand met her mouth. It was huge, and warm, but gentle if not firm. Emily started at the sudden movement, eyes wide. The Deer Stalker drew nearer.

“No, I don’t want your Name.”

Emily felt a fluttering in her chest. When she nodded the Deer Stalker lowered his hand and sighed.

“Do you have anything else? Anything else…like a name…but not…?”

Emily frowned, an expression her father always hated. But it’s how she thought. You had to wrinkle your brow to get the ideas out. She looked at their feet. Her feet were still bare, she’d hardly had time to put the boots on. His feet were cloven. He’d never need boots. Between his crouched legs, his manhood hung in its familiar place. A thing she’d played with plenty of times before in her dreams. And yet, beyond the haze of being asleep, it seemed too real to reach. Forbidden, just like everything else.

Something irreversible. Something valuable. Something only she could give. The thought struck her as she raised her eyes to meet his, and she blushed furiously. But she was resolute. Being traded like cattle had value in her community, why not with the Fae? That was something only she could offer — once done, it was done.

He had watched her eyes trail upwards and linger on his crotch before she blushed. The Deer Stalker took pleasure in it. Emily knew it, too.

He grinned, showing his sharp fangs. A tiny flicker of fear ignited in the back of Emily’s mind. He is still fae, after all, she reminded herself. But she had to speak it. Tell him what she was willing to offer.

Her heart beat felt like it was in her throat, mouth suddenly dry. Stammering, hands gripping the front of her shirt as they shook, Emily murmured,

“You…You can have me. Take me. Please.”

Emily’s ears rang, like a tiny bell had been struck. The meaning of ‘me’ reverberated around, unspoken yet understood. Me. Heart, mind, loins. All of it. None of it. She gave all of herself save her name. In a moment that felt like a week, Emily and the Deer Stalker gazed at each other until the ringing faded away. Then…

“Discard the beads.” He commanded, “They will do no good where we’re going.”

With a sliver of guilt, Emily tossed her rosary out of the clearing.

What would the priest say? Nothing good, she imagined.

Emily turned back to the Deer Stalker. He quickly closed the distance between their mouths. Emily shivered. A sudden uncertainty washed over her. But it was swept away just as quickly by the Deer Stalker’s lips.

Silken, and soft, just as she’d dreamed.

Her voice caught slightly as she murmured, hearing her father’s voice faintly in the distance. The Deer Stalker’s hand lifted to her face, resting his palm on her cheek. In life, beyond dreams, his touch was thrilling. Wonderful. Exhilarating. The sound of her father’s voice disappeared as she closed her eyes and leaned into the Deer Stalker’s chest. She felt his other arm circle her waist, and the ground fell away from beneath her feet.

Gasping, Emily instinctively attempted to jerk away. The Deer Stalker’s hands held her fast, unwilling to give her wiggle room. Pressing her against him. Pressing his lips against hers. As her eyes snapped open she saw his eyes still on her, bright and blue. Something new stirred deep in her chest. A fear, but she liked it. A nakedness despite being fully clothed. A thrill.

Emily whimpered as the ground returned to the bottom of her feet. Only then, did he let her go.

Chapter 8

Gasping for breath, Emily stumbled back, looking around frantically. The trees, no longer dark and foreboding, were gently illuminated by…something. There was still no moon in the sky, yet as she looked over at the Deer Stalker it was as if he were standing before her on a bright afternoon. His fur was a dark chestnut, his skin the shade of an Oak. The very ground seemed to shimmer below him, and he took her hand. She let him hold it, gentle and warm. She did not try to run, or scream.

Small creatures, too large to be butterflies, sparkled overhead. Unfamiliar noises giggled in the undergrowth, hidden by berry bushes and tall grass. The Deer Stalker didn’t take any notice of them.

He led her through the forest to a large cottage under an ancient tree. Its roots and branches wound equally thick. One holding up the sky, one clamped into the earth. Gently pulling her into the building, the Deer Stalker closes the door behind them.

Emily heard the latch click into its lock.

Her heart began beating fast again. But the feeling wasn’t exactly fear. Not like any fear she’d felt before. Her hands didn’t shake, and she could breathe. She was alert. Okay.

Looking around, Emily noticed that it was a well-appointed place. Assembled with care. A large hearth, comfortable padded chairs, a spacious and clean kitchen, and…

The bed in the next room was wide, covered in a mess of blankets and pillows. Unconsciously, Emily walked towards it. It Is What Was Promised.

Emily’s hands fumbled as she unbuttoned her shirt. As she did so, she idly thought of how sick she was of being a virgin. Unable to cum. Used as a yardstick for purity. Expected to behave in a certain way to preserve that purity. What of her brother, who was never held to such standards? What of the brides, whose purity was ripped from them as soon as the night began? Why did nobody seem to care that a woman lost her value and interest in the community the moment she was claimed by a man? She was frustrated, and annoyed over it all.

As if sensing her train of thought wandering, the Deer Stalker’s hands moved from behind to unlace her trousers. Shrugging off the shirt, Emily stepped out of her pants, awkwardly covering her breast and labia with her hands. Her cheeks blazed with embarrassment as she struggled to lift her eyes up from the ground. The Deer Stalker crouched before her to be eye-level, but not before she noticed his erection.

His eyes were intense, but gentle. They burned into her heart as he raised his hand to her cheek again.

“I will wait. Until you are ready…to take me in.”

Emily gulped at his choice of words, all memory of her boldness in dreams vanishing. This felt…different. Magnetic. Like the crackle of lightning overhead. Her dreams felt almost foggy, unreal. Yet there he was, warm and present and hard.

“Can I…um…just get used to you…first?”

He nodded, spreading his arms out to the side while remaining crouched. He also lifted his chin, giving Emily his unspoken invitation. Explore as much as you please, she thought. Nodding, Emily drew in a deep breath and raised her hands to shyly touch his forearm. Strong, and muscular. She brushed her hands over his upper arms, and the defined muscles there too. Running her palm across to his soft, dark brown chest, she rested it there to feel his heartbeat.

It thudded, strong, against his ribcage. Being so close, she could hear him deliberately slowing his breathing. It caught in tiny shudders between breaths. She’d never noticed that in her dreams. A triumphant sense of pleasure welled in her breast.

“Do fae…like laying with humans?” she asked, running his hands over his shoulders. The Deer Stalker swallowed.

“It’s…a prize. Humans are so avoidant of us these days, so violent. To bed a human is…”

He looked at her from the side of his eye as she moved behind him.

“Like a gift.”

Emily dipped her head running her hands across the shoulder blades in his back. His muscles twitched at her touch.

“I won’t give you my name.” She confirms.

“I wouldn’t ask it of you.”

“I will give you Myself, instead.”

“I would have greater use of that than others would.”

The Truth hit her like a bird losing control of the winds which buffeted it. She swallowed, blinking back the tears which pricked at her lower eyelids. She thought for a moment, of the tales of the Whore, regaled from the Priest’s pulpit. Of the Whore's only value being held between her legs. Of how Godly Women were valued beyond that, if only they kept the secret between their legs a secret. She withdrew her hands.

“Am I…even…pretty…to you?”

She felt silly, even as the words left her mouth, but it suddenly felt important to know. The man she was betrothed to certainly hadn’t thought so, or she would have been told. And she had hacked to pieces the little indicator of beauty she had left. It now lay abandoned by the forest’s edge.

The Deerstalker stiffened, then turned unexpectedly. He twirled her around and deposited her on the bed. Emily exclaimed in surprise, forgetting modesty as her hands splayed out to catch herself. The Deerstalker descended, kissing her mouth. Kissing her neck. Kissing her chest. Kissing her stomach. Emily rested a hand on the top of his head, between the antlers, and he returned to kiss her mouth before saying,

“I did not dare desire you, when I first saw you in that barn. Your destiny was tied to men. The man in the white robe, the man who yells, and the man with the Many Children many houses over. If I took you from them, they would hunt my kind more mercilessly than before.”

His hands caressed her stomach. Her thighs. Her breasts. A hot pressure grew between Emily’s legs, and she felt her face warming.

“But you came to me.”

He brushed his fingertips over her nipple, and it hardened. Emily murmured something incoherent, unsure of what to say. Her upbringing told her to say ‘stop’, but she desperately wanted him to keep going. So she just murmured instead.

He brushed a strand of hair behind his ear and smiled. As he leaned in for another kiss, she was waiting. Opening her mouth, she brushed her lips across his, tasting them. He pressed in, and his tongue found its way to hers. Like a flash of lightning, desire pulsed through her body and she gasped for breath. She trailed her hands down his torso. Down…down…down…

Emily bent, gently fondling the Deer Stalker’s cock. With a pleased murmur, the Deer Stalker’s hands also brushed downward, slipping his fingertips down her labia and resting at her entrance. Lifting her hips slightly, Emily urged him to press forward. And he did.

As his fingers entered, Emily quietly moaned. It felt very different to when she touched herself. His fingers were unpredictable, unfamiliar, and thrilling. They moved inside, pressing, sliding, and gently thrusting. Her breath quickened as she pulled his mouth towards her own, and their tongues met again. This is way better than my dreams.

He slid in another finger, then began gently stretching them outwards. Emily revelled in the new sensation, gently rocking her hips into his hand. Then his mouth left hers, and she made a disappointed noise until she realized why.

His tongue began flicking her nipple, eliciting higher pitched moans.

“Ah!”

Removing his fingers, the Deer Stalker pressed something larger — rounder — against her entrance. The pressure increased, waiting to be accepted. But the tongue kept flicking against Emily’s nipple. She couldn’t help but spread her legs wider as the throbbing became more urgent.

More, she thought. More…

All of a sudden, the round pressure slipped inside and Emily gasped. The tip of the Deer Stalker’s cock rested just inside. Emily moved a shaking hand to the top of his head again, feeling his soft, fragrant hair. The Deer Stalker raised his face to look at Emily, bright blue eyes now a misty shade of navy. Eyes half-closed, he leaned down to kiss her, gently growling into her mouth. With pleasure, Emily murmured back and rocked her hips to bring him deeper.

Then, a sharp pain flashed from inside. Emily jolted back from the surprise.

Immediately the Deer Stalker stopped moving, eyes bright and alert again.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, frowning with concern. He withdrew his penis and rested his hand on her lower abdomen. He spotted the blood.

“Ah. I’ll…go get a towel.” He offered, “One moment.”

The Deer Stalker darted out of the room, and Emily was left alone. She lay on the bed as her vagina felt like it was gently throbbing with a dull pain. When he returned, Emily sat on the black towel with a shiver. The Deer Stalker’s furry thigh brushed against her own as he sat beside her on the bed. Resting his chin on the top of Emily’s head, the Deer Stalker began to gently caress her back. As his fingertips moved, Emily felt the pain ebb away.

Eventually she interrupted the silence,

“So…I guess that was it, then. Deal made.”

Laughing quietly, his mirth rumbling in his chest beside her, the Deer Stalker gently placed three fingers under her chin and lifted her face up. Their eyes met. His were a dark blue again.

“If you wish to proceed with the rest of the contract…it is my duty to make you cum.”

Emily’s eyes widened as she looked down at his chest. She had heard the village boys use such foul language but…she had never considered what those words meant. The Deer Stalker moved his hands to her breast, gently stroking it.

“You mean, taking my virginity wasn’t just…”

Emily felt her nipples harden as the Deer Stalker moved his hand back to her entrance.

“You promised yourself. Your loins, your womb, your heart. You gave them freely. I intend to take them. As you asked.”

The pain faded into insignificance as Emily allowed herself to be pushed back down without resistance, an avalanche of warm, sweet kisses to devour. Her arms gently pulled him down, welcoming him.

He plunged himself back into her vagina with a welcome slip, and Emily moaned. The stretching, the friction, and the movement — she rocked her hips again, willing him deeper. He pushed in, and set into a gentle rhythm that increased the pleasant pressure in her loins.

“Ah…” Emily gasped, “…more…”

Fingers found their way to her clitoris, and her breath caught in her throat. Moving his tongue to the other nipple, Emily made a strangled moan. It was exquisite torture — the pleasure was coming from multiple places, and yet she was tormented by it. The pressure in her loins began intensifying behind her clit, and she grit her teeth.

“Is this good for you?” the Deer Stalker murmured into her breast.

“Mm-mmh.” Emily assented wordlessly, legs shaking. The pressure was becoming unbearable, spreading across her lower back and down her thighs. She panted for air as he stroked. Again, and again, and again…

Then, as if a dam collapsed, the pressure broke. Her clitoris twitched and her vagina spasmed around his cock, prompting a gasp of surprise from the Deer Stalker. Emily panted, feeling waves of pleasure radiate up her stomach from her loins, as the Deer Stalker continued thrusting. His breath was coming in ragged gasps. He loomed over her, powerful and protective at once. Emily enjoyed watching him suffer with the exquisite discomfort as well.

After her climax, his thrusts became more powerful, slamming his pelvis into her. With a pained moan, cock twitching inside, he stopped. Emily watched in a lusty haze, rocking her hips again. His mouth opened slightly in an expression of enjoyment, eyes closed as he tilted his head back and shuddered. Then, withdrawing his penis, the Deer Stalker collapsed on the bed beside Emily, breathing heavily. He half-opened his eyes, blue as deep as night, and raised his hand to Emily’s cheek with a smile. The two lay together for a while, breathing, and letting the shock waves of their climax finish their course.

Chapter 9

“Now what?”

Emily collected her clothes, dressing as she went. The Deer Stalker lounged on the edge of his bed, watching her contentedly. He shrugged.

“Whatever you want.”

Emily looked at him, half dressed. She tilted her head to the side, frowning. The Deer Stalker waved his hands to gesture around the room.

“Make yourself at home, it’s yours now. Go on adventures, make things, get to know my neighbours. I don’t know — just …whatever.”

He stood, towering over Emily, and stretched his back. He crouched down again and smiled as he stretched the muscles in his neck with one hand.

“All I care about is that you come home. Most evenings. I want to know you’re okay.”

Smiling, Emily leaned in and gave him a peck. The Deer Stalker smiled into the kiss, circling Emily’s waist with his hands.

“But what of the people I left behind?” Emily asked nervously,

“Won’t they come looking for me here?”

The Deer Stalker shook his head, tilting his jaw back towards the clearing where they first kissed.

“They’ll never find you. We’re in The Place Beyond.”

Emily nodded, still uncertain. She pulled the shirt over her head.

“I could leave a trail, so they stop searching, if it puts your mind at ease.”

He proffered her nightgown. Emily made a sound of displeasure.

“Why did you bring that?”

The Deer Stalker grinned.

“You looked nice in it, I thought you might want it again someday.”

Emily scoffed and mussed her newly-short hair. It felt lighter, without a heavy braid to drag it down. It probably stood up at awkward angles, like the new hair of a young child.

“With your permission,” the Deer Stalker offered, “I can make you disappear from their lives permanently.”

Emily grinned and threw her hands around his shoulders.

“Whatever you do, promise you’ll come home.” She teased. The Deer stalker grinned in response, his fangs glinting in the eerie fae light from outside.

“They’ll never catch me, dear one. Not while I have this to look forward to.”

Chapter 10

A group of young women sat in a huddle by the field. Wiping her red, puffy eyes, Laura nodded. Blue and red lights flashed behind them as a blue-clad man with white gloves wound plastic caution tape around a spot at the forest’s edge.

“So that’s what happened,” Laura choked between sobs, “She’s fine. The Deer Stalker is simply hiding her from her Pa.”

Claire nodded sagely, deep circles under her eyes. Behind Laura, a blood-soaked nightgown was placed into a plastic bag.

“Yeah, it’s how fae handle things, donchya know.” Mary assented energetically, “they make it look bad so people stop looking. I bet they’re getting married right this second, in a beautiful white ceremony with the Fairy Queen in attendance and everything!”

“Yeah,” Laura agreed with a gulp, “That makes total sense.”

The tyres of an ambulance slowly crunch the gravel beneath, leaving the village and its priest to watch the proceedings from a distance. And for once, the old farm house was silent.