There was fog, and only fog.

Diffused light shone through the grim canopy of leaves far above, casting muted shadows beyond the edges of every tree and bush. No breeze blew through the trees, and the silence was deafening to anyone who could have heard it.

Elias was comfortable in that silence.

He was familiar enough with the quiet that it didn’t bother him. Not anymore, at least. It was better for there to be silence. Better to know what was coming for him. Granted, there were some days he missed the sounds of wildlife.

Crouched behind a bush bearing black berries, he kept his eyes fixed on the deer grazing a hundred yards away, upwind of him and down a hill. An easy shot if he’d ever seen one.

The deer in question had an extra set of antlers and two extra pairs of legs, but he wasn’t overly concerned about the mutation. He’d eaten plenty of them before, and he hadn’t grown a third arm yet.

He took a half-breath, raising his crossbow to his shoulder. The handmade sight on the end, a simple spike resting above the bridge of the weapon, lined up with the notch near his eye. Closing his left eye, he took one final breath… and pulled the trigger.

The crossbow’s limbs made a loud crack as the tight cord snapped forward, propelling the flint-tipped arrow forward with enormous speed. The deer heard the sound and leapt ahead, exactly where he’d estimated it would. The arrow struck it behind the front leg, driving into its heart and killing it instantly.

Pumping his fist, Elias came around the bush and jogged over to the deer’s body. It was in good condition - the arrow hadn’t torn its fur too much, which meant the meat should have been relatively unspoiled.

Pulling a small coil of rope from his hip, he started trussing the deer up for easier transportation.

The silence grew louder.

His ears popped, and he swallowed hard. Standing straight, he began scanning the woods surrounding him, squinting to see through the fog. The trees loomed over him, almost seeming to lean inward.

He saw it before it saw him. Hopefully.

A pair of black vertical lines slowly approached, each one thin as a finger and stretching up through the trees. Their steps were leisurely and precisely placed between roots to avoid any potential tripping hazards, moving towards him fifty feet at a time.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

Elias cursed under his breath, pulling his knife out and sawing at the deer’s leg. Of all the timing…

The lines were drawing closer and Elias wasn’t done. With a savage motion, he flipped his knife into a reverse grip and sawed through the base of the leg, messily tearing it away.

Hefting the severed limb under one arm, he shoved his knife back into its sheath, seized his rope, and ran back up to the bushes he’d been hiding in as quietly as possible. Setting his satchel down, he flipped it open and removed a large piece of cloth, promptly wrapping the leg of the deer. The wrap stained red almost immediately, but at least it’d stifle the smell.

Peering over the bushes, he watched the black legs come closer to the deer’s motionless body. He didn’t say anything, but a litany of expletives bounced around his head. Instead of releasing them into the world, he muttered, “Don’t take it, don’t take it, don’t take it…”

The needle-like legs paused before the corpse, standing there for several seconds. They bent after a moment, and a hand reached down. It was large enough to pick up a car, with horrific claws, and yet the arm it was attached to was as spindly as its legs.

Elias watched with bated breath as it nudged the body, rolling it over. Being dead, the deer did nothing.

After a moment, the hand wrapped around the deer’s corpse, digging trenches into the ground. Elias’ face screwed up in agitation as the hand tightened, effortlessly lifting the body into the air. A series of crunches followed as Spindle ate the deer, and after a moment, a broken ribcage crashed into the ground, shattering the silence.

All was still.

The legs turned towards Elias.

He did the only thing he could do and ran, heading through the trees at a dead sprint. It wasn’t an option to avoid Spindle anymore, now that it’d seen him, which meant there wasn’t any point in trying to stay quiet.

The forest awoke to the dull thud of his boots on the ground, a quiet rustle of invisible creatures waking up. He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as thousands of eyes looked down at him from on high, a silent chatter of animal to animal as they watched.

The trees began to thin as he ran, and he hazarded a glance over his shoulder.

Spindle was following him. Each step the creature took was carefully and methodically made, and yet covered far more ground than he could hope to.

Looking back ahead of him, he finally made it out of the treeline and ran for the small house sitting in a fog-laden field of scorched stumps. It stood two stories high, with peeling once-blue walls holding a black shingled roof. The wooden door on the side swung open as Elias approached, and he checked back again.

Spindle was taking longer strides as it tried to catch up, but as it began to grow smaller as it left the treeline. Elias almost laughed, but instead settled for hurling himself through the doorway. It slammed shut behind him, locking itself.

Elias lay on the hard wooden floor, chuckling to himself. It wasn’t often one won a race against one of the monsters in the Fog.

His laughter died in his throat as he realized he’d forgotten to grab the deerleg.