It certainly looked like faerieland. Now that she was actually paying attention to her surroundings, she could see faint wisps of light condensing out of the air and then dispersing. It was unexpectedly beautiful, a slow dance of occasional ethereal fireflies playing out through the trees.

Those trees looked strange too. She had gone to sleep in a young forest, the oldest pines planted not even a century ago. This part of Michigan had been logged barren around the turn of the twentieth century to supply wood for America’s westward expansion and its unending hunger for timber. In a fit of Great Depression-assisted guilt, Roosevelt ordered large swathes of it replanted. It had grown magnificently since then, but the trees weren’t even on their second generation. The forest was still dominated by the glaringly man-made rows of red pine planted by the Civilian Conservation Corps.

Now, Seph was surrounded by a collection of birches, maples, and red pines that seemed truly ancient. They stretched into the sky; some of the trunks wider than she was tall. The trees seemed to glow with life. They were majestic, and she felt more peace leaking into her than from any forest she’d ever visited.

Her trek through the woods and subsequent panic had taken her from the first grey hints of dawn into the early morning. Golden fingers of light were filtering through the thick trunks and verdant branches. They sent swarms of brilliant light glowing across her skin in a more familiar mockery of the lights dancing through the air.

Actually, there was one space where the light shows were in the same place. Her tattered solar tarp greedily drank in the scattered sunlight and huddled around it was the biggest concentration of floating lights. She watched it; the auroras were beautiful enough to distract her from her woes for a time.

The red and orange lights fluttered around the tarp, and every so often two would merge to become a little brighter, a little lighter. It happened a little faster than they could fade, slowly building in strength.

After a bit, she watched as the biggest light (now a yellowish orange) began to shudder. It stuttered wildly around.

Seph had bolted up and was racing behind a tree, so she didn’t see what happened, but she heard a loud pop. When she peered around the corner, she stopped in confusion. There was something where she had been.

The dry maple and birch leaves that littered the ground had swirled together to form a slender, four-legged shape. The leaves littering the ground were the dull brown of summer, the creature in front of her looked like it was composed of freshly fallen leaves. It gleamed with the brilliant warmth of fall. It looked a bit like deer mixed with a greyhound (which are halfway to being predatory deer to begin with).

It’s beautiful… A forest spirit? A grey..hind?

She stepped out from behind her birch and held a hand out to the gorgeous creature. It turned to her gracefully, orange flame flickering in the empty, leafy socket of its eye. The flames seemed to fix on her and burn brighter. She took a cautious step towards it.

“Hello?”

A shiver rolled over it, majestic head to short, leafy tail. Following the shudder, spikes pushed out through the leafy skin. They looked like red pine needles, but she couldn’t focus on them for long because the creature lowered its head and charged.

Startled, Seph dodged to the left just too late to avoid being clipped by its antlers.

Antlers?

Somewhere between lowering its head and slamming into her jacket, the cute twigs on top of its head grew to large branches, sharp as regret and firm as steel. Only her motorcycle armor saved her from a nasty gash in her side. Still, those ribs had been bruised even before she decided to body slam the ground. Now, they cracked. Painfully. More than pain, though, was the feeling of wrongness. Bones should not move like that.

How the fuck does a dead leaf monster hit that hard?

She wheezed in pain and lost her breath but still attempted to scramble back away from the creature. It followed, jumping on top of her. She hissed in pain as her ribs loudly complained.

Throat. Dogs go for the throat.

An alley, seen through boarded-up windows. A begging man. The baying of dogs. The tearing of-

Not the time. Fighting now!

Seph held her armored forearm under the thing’s neck and pushed it back. It scrabbled at her chest, drawing muffled screams from through her gritted teeth. She tried to punch it with her off hand, but that just drew fresh stabs of pain from her shoulder.

Damn. Damn damn damn!

The creature was still clawing at her armored jacket. Its improbably sharp claws were chewing into the Kevlar pads covering her modest chest. She was decently safe there, but its scrabbling claws occasionally tore into the fabric connecting the armored plates. In the second she was watching, one errant claw scored a hit between the plates on her chest and through her jacket, tank top, and sports bra. It didn’t get her skin, but she knew it was only a matter of time. She turned her attention up to her arm, over which the monster’s head was frantically lunging and snapping at h- Was not lunging, snapping or any other aggressive action. It was staring at her, orange flames staring directly into her eyes. Its stillness seemed at odds with the fevered violence from its claws.

No mouth. How does it eat?

If it wasn’t going to eat her, she didn’t need to fend off its head. She lowered her arm a little so she could attack and maybe get the thing off herself. Unfortunately, that let it put its full weight towards attacking her. Before she could get her arm back up, she felt the bite of claws in flesh. She screamed. The creature’s claws had scored lines of white-hot pain from her breast down to her stomach.

By reflex, she kicked out. After the first couple of inches of leaves, her foot stopped sinking. The soft leaves had robbed the blow of much of its force, but it still pushed the creature back a couple of feet. Enough room for her to scramble back to a birch and slide her back up it. Her wounds burned with pain and she hissed, but she had no time to check them. She could feel her blood dripping down, warm and sticky in her clothes, but she would have to deal with that after surviving.

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

Why the hell is it attacking me?

She bent slightly, intercepting the lunging monster and pushing it to the side with her palm. The needles sprouting from its shoulder bit deeply into her fingerless gloves. They even sliced into her fingers a little, making her snatch her hand back. If she lost the use of her hand, she was dead for sure.

How the hell are those needles so sharp?

The needles and even some of the leaves were scattered by her push, but more pushed out from inside it.

Right. Magic faery leaf monster.

It was lunging at her again, so she ran behind a tree. If it was fae, maybe it was intelligent?

“Can we talk about this?”

It ran around the massive red pine to try to gore her again, but it didn’t have the distance to build up speed and momentum. She kicked it away, combat boot sinking into its chest. Maybe not intelligent, then. But she was losing this fight. Blunt force was useless against it, and it could replace any leaves she pulled off it.

The creature had been backing up while she thought. She had backed off too, but that just allowed the creature to build up more momentum as it thundered towards her. She sidestepped again, but this time it swerved to follow her. It wasn’t much, but just enough for the many, many sharp needles along the greyhind’s side to rake into her armored leg. By the time it had passed her, the side of Seph’s leg was in ribbons. Her knee collapsed, sending her hissing down against the base of the tree.

Okay. If she didn’t do something drastically different, that was it. What did she have? Tattered armor. A useless phone. A lighter and flask set she’d bought because they matched and were completely counter to the ‘spring goddess’ aesthetic being forced on her. The multitool she’d bought so she could de-lojack her bike. $1800 in cash.

Wait.

She scrambled around to face the monster. It had decelerated and turned to face her again.

Her cold hand fumbled in her jacket pocket.

The thing lowered its head and began to charge at its helpless prey.

She found what she had been looking for and pulled it out, just to drop it into the leaf litter.

The greyhind built speed, clawed paws kicking up dirt and pine needles.

She scrabbled for it, ignoring the screaming in her body as she tore up the leaves around her.

It angled its antlers to catch her neck and put on one final burst of speed.

She threw herself flat.

The monster thundered over her, claws rasping against her battered motorcycle armor and pushing her wounds into the dirt.

Her hand closed around the thing she’d dropped.

The greyhind’s antlers hit the tree, burying into the flaky bark.

She rolled over, thrusting her arm up into its belly. Her arm pushed past the loose leaves on the surface and into the more densely packed core, bearing her reclaimed treasure. It was hot on her hands, almost crushing.

Her thumb flicked the cap off the lighter.

The monster whipped back and forth, struggling to pull its antlers free. Seph just barely managed to keep her arm inside it.

She struck the wheel on the Zippo. Once, twice. She didn’t feel anything changing, but she was out of options.

It pulled free of the tree, and she lost her grip on the lighter. The creature backed away, still eerily silent save for the rustling of leaves. It lowered its head again, but this time there was no way for her to dodge. She was completely trapped. This was it. She sent a silent prayer up to the universe and turned her head away. She waited for death.

And waited.

And waited.

She opened one eye warily and saw the greyhind shuddering in front of her, billowing thick white smoke. Its ‘eyes’ fixed on her, and she pulled herself up against the pine. Long tongues of flame began to lick up from its back, and she tensed.

Did I just make a flaming leaf monster?

It took an uncertain step towards her, and she saw the sliver-black of her lighter drop out of its belly. Still, the flames intensified, roaring over the greyhind. Through the waver of heat, she could just make out the leaves blackening and curling.

She collapsed against the tree in relief, a moment before the monster collapsed into a pile of flaming leaves. She heard a faint ping and saw a flicker of green light in the corner of her eye. She turned quickly but didn’t see anything but the ever-present wisps of light. Given that she seemed safe for the moment, she took stock.

Condition check: Head? Still a little woozy, running around and being slammed into the ground probably didn’t help the concussion.

Neck? Fine. No whiplash. Yay!

Arms? Left shoulder hurts like a motherfucker. I really hope I didn’t tear it… My right hand is cut all to hell.

Back? No spinal injuries. Again, Yay!

Front? Lunchmeat. If I survive this, I’m going to have to wear turtlenecks for the rest of my life. No. Focus. I’m bleeding. Bad. I can feel cold creeping in from my fingertips and toes.

Speaking of toes, Legs? Left leg torn to shreds, right leg fine.

Hips? Wait, What the fuck?

She stared down at her groin in incredulity.

“No, seriously. What the actual fuck?”

She was horny. And not just the faint whisper of spontaneous arousal. She was full of a molten heat. It was distracting and was oddly insistent against the radiating pain of her injuries. It didn’t make any sense. She didn’t get turned on by violence. She knew that for a fact. And, while under duress she’d admit to a masochist streak, that was only relevant with a partner.

She glanced up at the magical woods around her.

“Faerieland makes people horny?”

That made exactly no sense, but a fresh stab of pain from her chest made her wince and focus on the now. The… thing was dead.

Correction: That thing is dead. There could be more of them. Time to run.

She staggered to her feet and tried a couple of steps. Well, it wasn’t a sprint but she was making a decent pace. Okay, that was a lie. She was hobbling. But she needed the lie.

She ‘ran’, looking for an advantage, anything that could help her survive. Here, a stand of red pine, in suspiciously straight lines. There, a small clearing. An overly large patch of moss. She might be able to use that to stem the bleeding, but she knew that if she stopped now she wouldn’t get back up.

She hobbled, hand on her stomach. The wounds there were bleeding hard. It was a disturbing candy-apple red that she recognized.

I’m dead.

Arterial blood kept flowing from beneath her fingers and dripping down her leg. She was going to bleed out if she didn’t get medical care very soon. She cast about for something, anything,

There!

It was just a hint of sunlight, but it was sunlight glinting off something moving. Something shiny. It was either a slow death or the chance for help or a quick one by whatever waited in the sunshine.

I’ll take it.

The sunlight was only a dozen yards away, but she could already feel her body shutting down. Cold crept in from her hands and feet. Every other step was a stumble, and her vision was starting to blur.

One limping step. Two. A lunge from the support of one towering tree to the next.

The problems kept mounting. First, the closer she got to the sunshine, the thicker the undergrowth. Normally, she’d either work her way through it or push her way through. She couldn’t manage either at the moment, and so she struggled against it. She inched forward, her slow progress making the second problem worse. The movement in the sunshine was getting further away. She had to reach it! She had to make it aware of her!

She called out, but her voice didn’t seem to be working right.

“-p..”

She wheezed her way through a dogwood and tried again.

“help”

Better, but still not enough. Not nearly enough. She gave one last push-

And fell into the sunshine, shouting.

“HELP!”

She didn’t feel herself hit the ground. She didn’t feel anything but cold. She was so cold. Why wasn’t the warm sunshine helping? At least she didn’t feel the pain anymore.

A statue of a woman appeared above her, bending over in beatific concern. Its stony face was the last thing she saw before she fell into darkness.