The Deer

Chapter 1

Jack is a middle-aged man who is divorced with two kids. He used to work as a salesperson at a car dealership but has been unemployed for the last two years and is struggling to make ends meet. His ex-wife Nicole sees him as a loser, and shit, maybe he is. She left him and took the kids when he lost his job. Remarried some prick named Mark after a couple of months. If only I could get back on my feet, Jack thinks, I'll show that bitch what I'm made of... And see my kids again. Yeah, that would be nice, he thinks as he puts his beer down.

Today may be his lucky day as he's received a call for an interview downtown — for a Sales Manager position, if you can believe it. It's 4:00 pm and nearly time to go. Jack looks out the window and sees that it's starting to snow. Just my luck, he thinks. All the leaves have fallen from the trees, and it's all gloomy and grey. "Just like me!" Jack suddenly shouts, touching his receding hairline with a smirk full of spite. Not wanting to be late, he puts his coat on, takes his car keys and locks the door behind him. His watch says 4:05 pm.

He drives down to the big building in the city centre, where he's supposed to start his interview. As soon as he walks into the lobby area, Jack starts feeling uncomfortable. The place seems cold and unwelcoming, with large portraits of former managers hanging up over a black marble floor. He doesn't even bother to look at them; instead, he heads toward the elevators. A security guard steps forward and asks him whether or not he has an appointment. Of course, he does; why the fuck do you think I'm here for? he says to himself. "Jack Turner, I have an appointment at 4:30".

Jack calls for an elevator and waits for the doors to open. When they finally do, he presses button number nine, hoping he remembers the instructions correctly. He's sweating like a pig and tries to calm himself down. His heart is pounding. But he tells himself that this is a great opportunity and that he just has to get through the interview. He must not think about his sweaty armpits or the fact that he probably looks ridiculous in his extra-large shirt. The doors open on the ninth floor.

"Good afternoon," greets Jack as he enters a well-lit room. It's a relatively small office, but there are many desks set up and whiteboards on the walls. There's a table for people to sit around, and Jack spots two seats opposite each other. Someone is already seated and waves at him. It's quiet, but Jack can hear the sounds of several computers working away. On the back of the chairs, it says "Blue Corner". It's a company involved in technology, one way or another. I don't know, and I don't care, thinks Jack. I just need this fucking job. He gets close to the table.

"Sit anywhere you like. My name is Marlon, and I'll be taking care of your interview," says a tall, thin young man wearing a dark suit. His hair is short, brown and neatly trimmed.

"You'll be pleased to learn," continues Marlon, "that our interview will be slightly different from what you're used to. We want to test if you really have the drive we're looking for." Jack gathers that the CEO must be a millennial or something. "Awesome!" he says with a tight throat.

Marlon hands him some forms and asks him to fill them out as quickly as possible. Jack stares at them, trying his best to go through them, quickly. They contain weird questions such as Would you rather ride a giraffe to work or an elephant?, and What are the advantages and drawbacks of your preferred method of transportation? Jesus. He reads them once again and begins filling them in, to the best of his ability. It doesn't take long. He looks at his watch, seeing that it's now 4:45 pm.

"Do you mind waiting here while I check your results?"

That's it? Jack wonders. "Sure, no problem," he says with a fake smile.

As Jack sits on the chair, his mind wanders, and he starts thinking about his kids. A boy and a girl, John and Hannah. His heart and soul. He still cannot believe that Nicole just took them with her and is suing for custody. Christ, I lost my job. That doesn't make me a murderer.

The floor is now very quiet. The baby robots that were happily clicking away at their screens a few minutes ago must be on their break, playing the Xbox, or having some kind of mind-numbing "team-building" activity. The clock strikes 5:00, and Jack wonders whether or not he'll get through. After about fifteen minutes, the big glass doors open. He can see Marlon and another man, holding briefcases, walking in. This must be for real, thinks Jack. Maybe I got this job after all.

Marlon asks him to follow them into an empty room with a large whiteboard, which seems to have been freshly painted in a bright blue colour. The walls have a grid-like pattern of grey lines and the words "Blue Corner" written in red letters above the board. The three of them sit around the table.

"Thank you for coming in today, Jack. We were very impressed with your skills". Finally, someone notices Jack is good at something. That makes him smile, though he keeps wondering, Impressed with what, the couple forms I filled?

"Now, tell me, how much money do you make currently?" Here it goes again. Jack can feel his heart pounding in his chest, his tight throat barely letting his voice pass through.

"I'm... currently unemployed", says Jack with difficulty. "That's why I'm trying to find a new job, sir." Calling "sir" someone about 20 years younger than he is. That's great for my ego, he thinks.

"But if you could make $100.000 per year, would you consider working here instead of a competitor?" asks the third man.

What kind of question is that? "Yes, of course, Mr...?"

"Taylor," he says back, pointing at his name badge. It has the same symbol as the logo on the briefcase. "Okay then. I'm going to be honest with you, Jack. I don't think you'd be a good fit."

"What! Why?" Jack asks, shocked.

"Well, we're looking for people who are ambitious, confident and hungry to succeed," Mr Taylor says. Marlon follows. "And from our point of view, your age, lack of motivation, and enthusiasm made us decide against hiring you. It doesn't matter, though. Thank you for coming in, Jack".

"Wait!" Jack cries. "Please let me try one more time. I've been struggling these past months. If I get this job, I promise you I'll work my ass off, no matter how hard I have to put in or what I have to sacrifice." He knows he sounds like a wimp, but he's desperate, and this might be his only chance.

"You know the way out."

Jack cannot believe what just happened. How could these two young fucks treat him like that? After all he did to prepare himself. After all the shit he went through to get there. What the fuck was it all about? He slowly walks out of the building and back into his car. The cold snow is hitting him harder than before, soaking into the material of his coat. He gets in the car and turns on the engine. The radio plays some pop song he can't stand, and he turns it off. He's completely numb and can't think straight. After a few minutes in complete silence, tears fall down his cheeks. "I'm a loser", says Jack while putting on his seatbelt. It's now close to 5:30 pm, and the sun has already set for the day.

Chapter 2

Jack's mind is somewhere else. He has been driving for 10 minutes without really paying attention to the road. Thankfully, the backcountry is mostly empty, and he hasn't met anyone since leaving town. His eyes focus on nothing in particular as they pass by dark, icy trees that seem to reach for him. He's going over all that just happened.

Fuck them! They didn't even let me finish my damn story! I was just starting! He's still mad that they wouldn't give him a chance but also sad, disappointed and very tired. The car's headlights light up a little fox walking across the road; a whitetail darts behind a tree, and the animal stops and looks back at the car, looking curious.

The snowfall is getting worse, and Jack needs to slow down to avoid falling into ditches or sliding off the road.

He looks down at the radio to change the station. Classic rock'n'roll will do him some good. When he looks up, there is a deer in the middle of the road, and he's heading right for it. He hits the brakes and tries to swerve, but there's no time. The deer runs straight into his front bumper. There's a horrible sound of metal crashing together. The car comes to a stop with the engine still running and the headlights on. In the woods under the snow, the silence that follows is beautiful. It takes Jack a few seconds to realize what just happened.

There's a small crack on the windshield, and blood is dripping down from where the impact happened on the driver's side. That damn deer was just standing there, thinks Jack, And with this fucking snowfall...! He gets out to check what kind of damage he caused to the car. Another thing he'll have to pay for.

At least he's in a familiar part of the forest, about 500 meters away from his house. The front bumper is severely damaged, but he can still drive it back. One of the headlights is now gone, and the hood is slightly bent, along with the front left fender. The deer lies on the road, its fur red and sticky. Its legs are shaking. Jack cannot help thinking how ironic that the animal that is dying in front of him had probably never been hunted before.

He thinks about whether or not he can move the deer to the side of the road. It's difficult, as the snow has made everything slippery, but he manages. He wraps the body in a blanket he carries in the backseat and throws it over the edge of the road onto a ditch full of dead leaves and twigs. The wrecked car, all the blood, and the falling snow that looks like ashes make him think of something out of an apocalyptic movie. Somehow, that feels good.

The only sound he hears is his own breathing inside his jacket, which feels really hot due to the heavy clothing. What am I doing? I can't leave it here like this. He saw those documentaries about people hunting their own game. He thinks there's plenty of meat on it, and it could last him through the winter. He opens the trunk and gauges the animal's size. It'll fit. Such good quality red deer would go well with his soup. After all, he'd rather eat this deer than see it rot somewhere.

He struggles to pick up the animal rolled into the blanket and puts it in the trunk. That thing weighs as much as a full-grown man! If it was just a small doe, he would have carried it easily, but a large stag... "Fuck, maybe I should go hunting more often," says Jack to nobody. The idea makes him laugh a little bit, but at the same time, he feels sad about the whole situation.

Jack gets home, goes to the living room, grabs the garage key from where it lays on top of the TV cabinet, and then goes out again to put the deer on the table in the garage. He takes off his gloves to get some warmth back into his fingers, and the animal's blood sticks to his hands. The smell is overwhelming. In fact, the dead stag is starting to really stink. "How can that thing smell so bad after 15 minutes?" he says aloud. It's been a while since he used his garage for anything — he usually leaves his car in the driveway — and it's a dirty and dusty place. There is a lot of junk lying around, the floor is oil-stained, and there is a large freezer against the back wall. The walls are covered in grime, and the musty smelly goes well with the animal's stink. With the deer lying on the table, Jack realizes that he does not really know what to do with it. Did he get to that part in the documentaries?

Chapter 3

He decides to try a couple of ways to carve it. With a small knife he gets from the garage, he slices a hole in its chest — that seems like something hunters would do — and uses the knife to push the intestines out. He also tries to make a cut on its belly, but the skin there seems too thick. After half an hour of work, the carcass still doesn't seem any smaller. Maybe I need the kitchen knife instead. He heads back inside, taking his gloves off to open the door, but he can't find his house keys anywhere. They are nowhere in his pockets. "Fucking hell!" he shouts while walking around the room. He's starting to get an itch for a good drink.

He eventually sees that the keys fell on the floor in the precipitation and are now lying in a pool of blood. He carefully picks them up, cleans them as well as possible while wondering if the blood will make the keys rust, and goes to the kitchen. He opens a new bottle of Jameson and pours it into a large glass, along with some ice. The amber liquid smells nice, and Jack's head begins to feel lighter already. He drinks slowly and thinks about how crazy this whole day turned out.

With his glass of whisky in hand, he remembers that he also saw an ad for a job as a janitor at the local school. After two years of unemployment, cleaning up the building he'd studied in many years ago doesn't sound so bad. Maybe he'll even be able to buy his meat instead of taking it off the road. Jack chuckles. He thinks it would also be pretty easy to get the position, as long as you are willing to take the lower-end jobs. He shakes his head; for a guy like Jack to clean up the floors, vacuum the halls, and dust the bookshelves? What a joke. As if he would ever accept such a low-paying job. "Back to work," he says, moving back to the garage and toward the deer with the kitchen knife in his free hand.

The poor animal is lying there, the heat in the garage not improving the smell. Now, however, it's more blood than flesh, which makes the task of cutting the body much harder. With the knife, Jack cuts the neck of the stag to make sure the blood can drain out better. He does not want his place to smell of blood and guts. The next cut will be challenging, but he forces the blade through the skin anyway. Once the hole is big enough, he pulls his hands apart, and the hot, warm intestines start to come out. He quickly throws them to one side, ensuring they don't fall back inside the carcass. It will probably stink worse now, but nothing he can do about that.

He tries to push back the internal organs to create an opening large enough for him to put his arm inside the carcass. After about a minute of pushing, he manages to force his hand deep into the dead creature. This time, he knows exactly what he is looking for. When he feels his hand reaching something hard and round, he reaches further in until his entire forearm is completely inside the belly cavity of the animal. His hand touches the animal's heart. It is huge. Jack continues to pull on the organ, trying to get it to slide around, and eventually succeeds. The thing moves as he wants it to, and Jack quickly gets it to pop out from within the animal's chest.

The moment it comes out, a strong scent of blood and rot hits his nose. Jack shudders. "God damn it! I've got this shit in my hair."

He cleans his face with a dusty towel that's been there for God knows how long and then dries his hand on some newspaper before walking outside. Time for a smoke.

He goes out to his backyard and lights up, breathing in the cold air and taking deep drags. The fresh snow crunches beneath his shoes. A few clouds are moving past the moon. It'll be a clear night tonight. He thinks that the deer would have been better off never crossing his path, just like everyone else he ever met. But now the beast is dead, and Jack doesn't regret anything he has done so far. He still looks a bit better than the animal, at least. That gets another chuckle out of him.

After finishing his cigarette and whiskey, he goes back inside the garage. For a split second, Jack sees a man lying on the table where the deer was, belly open and guts all spread out. He drops the glass, which breaks all over the floor. Thank God it was already empty; wasting such fine whiskey would be a shame. He closes his eyes and shakes his head vigorously. When he opens them, he lets out a massive sigh of relief, seeing that the animal is still lying there. That's enough for tonight, he thinks. I'll put the damn thing in the freezer.

Jack lifts the now lighter carcass up and heads to the back of the garage, towards the freezer. His heart is beating really fast, but he does not know why. The whole thing seems off, somehow. He walks as quickly as possible to get away from whatever it is. After a few seconds, Jack finds himself opening the lid to the freezer. It takes a lot of strength, as the door seems frozen in place. The last time he opened it was probably months ago. Jack pushes as hard as he can on the handle. It's heavy, so he puts down the deer on top of the floor to give his hands some room. Then, Jack grabs the body with one hand and pulls with all his might until the creature falls in. "Now, I hope you don't mind if I put you on ice for the night," he says to the dead animal with a weird smile.

Jack turns around, hearing a noise behind him, like something falling onto the ground. He stares into the dark corner between the shelves. Nothing there. Just an old lamp and a couple of tools. He closes the freezer, locks the garage and goes back to the kitchen. The air is cold. He shivers and goes upstairs, thinking about how the day went. The job interview, drinking too much, the deer... He's deserved a good night's sleep. He flips off his light switch in his bedroom and gets under his blankets. Tomorrow morning will be here before long.

He quickly drifts off, only for a second, then wakes up. Someone is shaking his shoulder. Jack looks at the clock, but the time is too dark for him to read. "Who is that?" he asks while rubbing his eyes. Someone, no, something, is standing beside his bed. With the moonlight coming from outside, he can only see what looks like a deer standing on his back hooves, with the head of a man attached to its neck. He jumps out of bed. Jack's heart beats so hard, it feels like it would jump out of his chest. The animal raises its head, revealing the face of a middle-aged man who Jack recognizes, somehow. His skin has been burnt by the sun, and his teeth are black. His hair is full of dirt, his beard looks wild. There's a lot of blood all over his chest. Jack screams, runs past the animal and towards the door and slams the lock with his fist. His legs almost give away, but he manages to stay on his feet.

He gets out of the room, but the creature slowly steps toward him, trying to stop him from closing the door. "What do you want?" Jack screams, sweating like crazy.

"I just wanted to make sure you got home safely," the thing says, looking through the small opening of the door with a smile. "You have my thanks."

"Jesus!" is all Jack can say as he stares at the creature's eyes, which look back at his. There is a lot of hatred there. Jack begins shaking as his mind goes blank.

Chapter 4

The following day, Jack wakes up drenched in sweat, and when he goes to the garage, he finds himself staring at the deer carcass in the freezer. The fresh meat is still frozen, untouched and whole, lying in a pool of frozen blood. "What the fuck was that last night?" he yells out loud, then shuts down the freezer. Back in the kitchen, he grabs a beer from the fridge and heads out to the back garden. After taking two sips of his drink, Jack puts his head on his knees. He needs help. He takes out his phone and thinks about calling his ex-wife, begging her for help. Of course, she won't answer, but maybe she will, and she might come over with food and whiskey. And perhaps even a new job for him, too? Right.

He decides to go for a walk and think things through. He is really thirsty, and his mouth is dry, so he gulps his beer down and starts walking. First, he goes to his local grocery store to buy cigarettes and booze. As he enters the shop, the smell hits him. Blood. It smells like something has died inside the store. I'm gonna throw myself into the river if this shit doesn't stop. Jack turns around, wanting nothing more than to run out of the store right away, but instead, he walks to the counter. "What's that smell?"

"We're having a sale on meat, sir," the cashier says as she checks his items off on the register.

Jack frowns. "Your meat smells weird, lady." Her eye-rolling is her only response. He pays for his cigarettes and drink and goes out.

As he wanders on the backroads, he can't stop thinking about that thing he saw last night. What the hell was it, anyway? He keeps imagining what the deer would have looked like before he ran him over. Was its skin smooth or rough? Its fur shiny? The thought makes Jack sick, and his stomach growls loudly. He finds a small forest and stops by a fallen tree. The sun shines above the treetops, and birds are singing. This is a beautiful day, but Jack has a hard time enjoying it — he needs to go back home and deal with that deer. Right now, before the smell takes over his entire house.

He takes out a cigarette from his pocket but then pauses. Where is the lighter? He looks around for it but can't find anything. In fact, he can hardly see a thing because of how bright the sunlight is shining behind his eyes. He hears some noises coming from the bushes nearby. He turns to face them, but when he does, he sees something else altogether: There is no bush there, only a pair of hooves. And what appear to be human legs attached to them. Jack squints to make sure it's not just a trick of the light. And finally, he sees the same creature from the previous night's nightmare. A thin layer of dark, red blood covers the body completely, except for the head, which this time looks like a stag's.

"What... Who?" Jack says, standing paralyzed.

The figure steps closer. "You know me," says the corpse, its animal lips moving along.

Jack backs up slowly. "What do you want from me?"

"Just come back home," the deer-headed thing tells him, stepping toward him. "It'll be easier if we talk in the garage." The creature smiles and comes near him. Its mouth opens wide, showing rows upon rows of teeth. Jack screams and runs home.

A few minutes later, Jack is back at his house, where he locks every door and window he can reach. He's terrified of entering the garage but reasons himself, What could be in there, really?

He opens the garage door. Inside, the creature stands with its arms crossed, smiling. It doesn't move or say a word, though. Jack shakes. Why won't this thing leave?

He gets on the floor, exhausted. His hands are shaking so much that he can barely hold the whiskey glass he did not even realize he had until this moment. He drinks down all the whiskey and says, as calmly as he can, "Let's talk."

The beast stares straight into his eyes but does not reply. Instead, it walks over to Jack, its hooves thumping the floor with each step. It puts a hand behind Jack's face and pulls it towards itself until their faces are only a few centimetres away. The creature then leans in and kisses Jack full on the lips while holding Jack tight by the head.

"No!" Jack yells, pushing back hard against the body, which only causes the monster to grab Jack even harder. The smell of rotten flesh and blood fills Jack's nose, and the feeling of that skin makes him feel sicker than ever. He tries pulling away from the embrace, but the monster has a grip of steel. "No, please..."

"You're crazy, Jackie boy," says the beast. "You've been going down this path for a while now. First, you lost your job, and then your wife left with the kids. You've been drinking yourself silly after each failed interview, and now, you've killed someone and stored them in your freezer."

Jack shivers, hearing the creature's words. "No, no... I'm not crazy."

The thing smirks. "Then why are you talking to me?"

"Because... because... my life sucks." Jack begins crying, knowing his answer sounds pathetic. He hates himself.

The creature continues: "And that is why we will do this together. We'll drink a bottle of whiskey and smoke a pack of cigarettes every day, and we'll fuck our brains out every night. In exchange, we'll kill a person every week. Your ex-wife, a random homeless guy, a friend of a friend... doesn't matter. It doesn't have to be people; it can be anything. Open the freezer, Jack."

Jack gets up and obeys. Inside, he sees what looks like the remains of a man in his forties. His stomach turns.

"Now, look at him. What does he remind you of? A deer, right?"

Jack is horrified at the sight of that thing, but he still nods. The beast goes on, "Open the garage door, and let's get started, shall we?"

The doorbell rings. "Maybe you should get that first, Jackie." The monster grins wickedly. "Go on, open up. You're gonna want to see this one!"

Jack goes to the front door and opens it. A cop is standing there; he looks about 35 years old and is well-built. "Mr Turner? Officer Delaney," he says, "We've received a call about your car. It seems you were involved in some kind of accident last night?"

"No, I'm fine, officer," Jack replies quickly. "It was just a small scratch, nothing to worry about." The cop scrutinizes him from head to toe.

"Oh, good. Do you mind if I take a quick look around?"

"No, no problem," Jack says, opening the door a bit more. Officer Delaney enters the room. Jack is sweating like hell, putting his hands behind his back in fear that there might still be blood on them.

"You seem very nervous, Mr Turner."

"I... I had an argument with my boss earlier today..." Jack lies.

"What's behind this door?" asks the cop.

"Oh, that's just the garage."

The policeman smiles, "Can you please show it to me?"

Jack hesitates but doesn't see a way out of this that would not be too suspicious. "Of course, officer, please follow me," he says as he opens the garage door. Jack enters the room and lets Officer Delaney pass in front of him. Before turning the lights on, Jack hears a familiar voice in his head.

"I hope this little piggie will fit in the freezer," says the deer as he closes the door behind them.