The Hunter

The danger you don't expect

Image by more photos boosty.to/victoria_art_music from Pixabay

I did not see it there, lost in the play of light and shadow, and when I saw it, I did not know it. At least, not at first. The tiny creature, for creature it was, inched out of hiding, the look of complete terror on its face overwhelming my own shock and disbelief.

I sank onto my knees, hands outstretched to show I meant no harm. This was harder than you might expect, given the arthritis in my knees which nearly gave out. Nonetheless, I made it safely to the ground, peering at the small being before me.

Drawings and paintings did not do the fairy, for that is what it must have been, justice. Her ethereal beauty, wrapped in glowing sheens of turquoise and gold, left me breathless. She was perfect. More than perfect. Except for her crushed right wing.

The left wing was perfect, a delicate, pearlescent gossamer that caught the light of the moon and shone as if it were the source and the moon a pale reflection. I nearly wept at the loss of its ruined twin.

“Help me,” the fairy begged her eyes darting behind, then back to me, as if still uncertain whether I or whatever lurked behind in the darkness presented the greater threat. What it must have cost her to ask a human for aid, I could not say. The plaintive, “Please,” that followed broke me from the near trance into which I had fallen.

“How?” I asked, surprised at the urgency in my own voice.

“I need away from here, before…” She looked back over her shoulder and shuddered as an eerie howl filled the air behind us.

I held out my hand to her and she limped toward it. As she stepped onto the hand, having clearly decided I was the lesser evil, I saw her other injury, the mangled calf with a bite of missing flesh and muscle. It didn’t bleed, though it appeared fresh.

Swallowing the bile that rose in my throat, I cupped my other hand around her to keep her from falling and fled into the night, as the howling closed in from behind. I took one look at my telescope, set up for stargazing. Another howl, closer still, and I abandoned the instrument, praying I could make it back to my car before whatever beast chased this fairy caught us.

Though I hadn’t done so in at least a decade, I ran now, my legs remembering the rhythm, though my joints protested almost from the first footfall. “What’s chasing you?” I panted as my breath came in short gasps and pain shot through my knees with every jarring step.

“The hunter,” the fairy answered. The dread in her voice shook me to my core. But that was nothing to the chill that ran up my spine as she added, “The fey killer. It has discovered it enjoys the taste of mortal flesh as well.” Somehow, my feet ran faster.

I slowed as we reached the car, uncupping the fairy to reach into my pocket for the key fob and unlock the door. As I wrenched it open, a hot wind, carrying the stench of carrion, caught me up in its foul embrace. I froze.

“Get in the car.” The fairy’s voice now held a note of command.

It was all I needed to jump in, slamming the door behind us and locking the door as something slammed into it. Jagged metal dug into my side, and I felt flesh tear. The fairy fell from my hand. She scrambled onto the passenger seat as a scream tore from my lips. My shaking fingers fumbled for and found the start button. The engine kicked to life and my wheels spun in the gravel as I floored the gas pedal.

The wheels found traction and my car lurched forward, speeding back toward the city and, I hoped, safety. My heart pounded as I drove, unable to speak, unable to ask, until Inwood’s streetlights surrounded us and my white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel began to loosen.

“There was nothing there,” I finally ventured. “No creature. Just that foul wind. How…” I faltered, still unable to ask the question. The fairy answered anyway.

“The hunter is a creature not of this world. It belongs to another realm, rarely penetrating into ours.  Only a truly foul deed grants it entry, and then, only briefly. I think we still breathe because it has been drawn back into its own world.”

Could it truly be gone? Less than thirty minutes before, I had not believed fairies existed. Now I shook with fear that this formless monster might still threaten my world. Threaten me. It has discovered it enjoys the taste of mortal flesh, the fairy had said. I shuddered.

I pulled into my driveway. As the adrenaline fueling our escape fled my body, the pain in my side made itself known. Afraid of what I would find, I looked down, relieved to see a relatively shallow laceration, though a spectacular bruise had already started to blossom around the damaged skin.

“Now what?” I asked, turning to my diminutive passenger.

“Now, I call to my kin,” the fairy answered. “They will come and undo the filth the hunter has left behind.” All fear seemed to have left her with the disappearance of the beast. “May I wait for them in your home?”

A fairy, asking permission to enter my home. Never in my life had I imagined such a thing. “Of course,” I said, holding out my hand again.

I settled the fairy in an old doll’s bed that used to belong to my daughter, dressed my wound, then fell into my own bed, certain I would not sleep. When I woke in the morning, she was gone. My telescope stood in its accustomed place in the back porch and both my side and that of my car were whole, as if neither had ever been damaged.

A dream. It had all been a dream. But I noticed over the following days that my joints no longer pained me and when I looked in the mirror, my skin was smooth with no sign of the wrinkles that had begun to creep up on me.

The biggest surprise came when the balance in my bank account showed that my modest retirement savings had somehow grown into enough wealth that I would never have to worry about money again. The bank manager assured me the money truly was mine, deposited by a benefactor who wished to remain anonymous.

I never saw the fairy again. I hadn’t asked her name. I don’t know if she would have shared it if I had. I hoped that her own wounds had been healed, though I supposed I would never know. As to the hunter, I’ve never come across it again either, though occasionally a wolf’s howl will sound in the night, sending a shiver up my spine.

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The first sentence of this story came as a prompt from Laura. I knew immediately that it warranted a longer story and that it needed to be magical. I didn’t expect the horror aspect until it appeared on its own. Perhaps from another realm?

I would have loved to head this story with an image of a fairy, but the odds of finding one that matched the description were, of course, zero. Likewise for the hunter. So I settled for one that showed what my protagonist was doing before the events of the story unfolded. I’m glad she got her telescope back!

I at first wondered how something small enough to take just a bite out of the calf of the fairy could threaten a human protagonist. But then I realized that this was a creature from another dimension. Perhaps its magic lies in matching itself to its prey.

Kim Smyth, is this one spooky enough for you? I thought of saving it for Halloween week, but I don’t think the theme fits, so here you go!