I always knew this day would happen, though we have no necks to hang and we all look to be different. I always had an inkling this could happen to me. Not exactly to me but my father who went and meddled with that good for nothing Deerman. It's his fault, all because years ago the Deerman never asked permission to be around. The high temple permitted the Deerman to do so and yet he didn't. He must have stopped so I grabbed my axe that my body couldn't hold and ran towards the Deerman. It seems however every time someone does they become the next to be hanged. This time it shall be the Deermans head that shall hang for he has a neck to rock the sky, I assured as I grabbed my bag and started my journey.
As I wandered down the dirt path that was surprisingly maintained despite the piles of ashes that laid because of fires of old being set then extinguished yet never cleaned for whatever reason. Looking at the roads specifically however I found that the dirt roads here were better kept than the ones of home being rubble and stone. I then pushed away these mindless thoughts and pondered my reward. Of course vengeance for my fathers death but what more? Maybe the government would give me a higher color of being. Sure I am already a blue pixie with no opposable appendages and it's true I don't need them as any pixie doesn't because we can use magic to levitate and manuver what we want though of course being a limit with our laws. Maybe that's what I need. If I take the Deermans head I will be able to grow one or maybe two appendages and gain a higher color. Yeah that will be the best, vengeance with a side of… hmm I looked around at the well maintained gardens that expanded for at least an acre as I finally pondered what the side dish of my reward shall be.More Vengeance.
Before crossing the threshold that others have before their demise I pondered what I would be dealing with. I may have an axe but to swing it would be a new problem in itself. I am barely a level two pixie which means by the government I am permitted to pick up this axe but to swing it I would have to work more for either a better appendage or rank. I ponder the time I got to level two on the forboden day of thirteen or so, about two months after but no one needs to know this detail.
Now let's say I chop at the beast and treat it to sushi el Deer in the house. What does the beast even look like? Well of course it is a deer and a man hybrid but what are its features? I mean to trick my father who was a level twelve pixie before the Deerman killed him couldn't evade his clutches then how should I? Well of course with a plan but I must need his looks in order to destroy its possible chiseled or pot belly jaw for good. Ah yes I remember now. During the starting weeks of the Deerman being pushed away by the pixies he refused to leave. So in order to make him leave, by force if need be the government created life like illustrations of the beast. Ah yes I truly have done it now.
How would I defeat the beast with the teeth of chainsaws? Pockets of our hard worked gold coins needed to survive and claws that pierced and ate pixies like bar appetizers? The pictures truly showed this he was sure of it so how would one little pixie win if an entire battalion didn't? Let alone my father? As I sat behind a tree I looked around and felt the gravity of the situation unfold.
Gravity, of course!!! It was simple, drop the axe on the beast head, take the head and axe to an officer, be arrested and possibly have worse happen for breaking the rules of using an axe at all and then poof, after a few months or weeks be out of prison and happy with a new appendage and rank. Aswell as the protection of the government as my father was the only one who kept me going. But how to get the beast outside without also being in his gaze?
Hmm, I gazed around the perfectly kept land of flowers and butterflies and saw a few things that caught my eye. First it was obvious, who is maintaining this land of flowers and milking the bees so as to not have them be aggressive? Second, why would anyone in the government put an “all are welcome” sign in front of the house of the banished? The government is awesome and very intelligent as I learned growing up but as my father said nothing is without fault though I doubt it. Third and finally why would there be a mailbox for what is supposedly a banished beast that could and has threatened the lives of our great pixie people? Better yet, why is it full of mail at all?
The mail almost overflows the mailbox and seeps to the floor like a solid web of spider silk. But maybe that's what is needed for a fire. A fire under the Deermans feet that he stomps out to his own peril but an axe falls on his head and burns his body and home. Yes, as he burned down the potential future I and my father could've had,so I shall burn his body and home but keep the head to gain prizes and prison time for a little. But definitely prizes.
So I did just that, I brought the mail to the front of the building, setting it down on the front door as I stepped back and took in the soon to be destroyed or at least a little crispy kept together pathway that I happily trotted up and the garden of many different labeled vegetables that I crossed on the way. Too bad the building is owned by a disgusting monster, heck it was probably stolen by the monster so says the sign from before. It's a shame it must burn but I don't care, the Deerman didnt when killing my father.
So I knocked on the front door of the building as I quickly floated up and above the front door and grabbed my axe, waiting to drop it on the ugly twelve foot beast and taking it down once and for all. But nothing happened. OH yes, my plan failed because I didn't light the fire yet. I quickly glided down and started flicking a rock with the ax head to create sparks and eventually a fire.
“This would work better”, a calm voice said above, giving me a rock of black that smelled dense. I thanked the man and started and sure enough it started burning though slowly.
“You have no idea how much I wanna burn those letters but hey if you do then it's not on my conscience anymore.” I then turned, realized who those letters' owner was. I was caught and dead, if not about to be hypnotised as another slave with yellow eyes that will spot and disintegrate other pixies like the poster of old depicted his power to be. I slowly turned, axe in hand and swung. Making no contact as it didnt even lift from the floor and into the jugular of the man in his collard shirt and long black pants. Though the man wasn't a hundred percent perfect and a deer's head was planted above his fluffy neck and body. In his hoof were a few books that had envelopes with different embezzlements of different types, one of watermelon seeds, another of plastic pieces.
“Were you trying to swing at me? If you want to, I can teach you how to swing properly.” The man then grabbed my axe and held it at the lowest part, about to stab me I acquired quickly.
“Well, you hung my father so why not stab his son you big beast.” The Deerman looked at what I said and looked sideways.
“Your father was hung young one? What were his final colors? If I may ask.” Oh so you can put these colors in a rug you devil, I thought but never said, but If I work with him maybe I can find a weak spot.
“Blue with white stripes.” He frowned at this and walked into his home, grabbing a fire extinguisher and taking out the fire, grabbing the still eligible mail and inviting me inside.
Cut me, stab me, turn me into stew. That's what will happen inside of this tidy home with the bear rug and running fireplace as Clair De Spoon plays on the record player nearby. That poor woman who was murdered by the Deerman, and even stealing her mail was diabolical.
“So I assume he was your father then buddy?” The Deerman asked me as he looked towards me and pointed to sit across from him.
“That he was, and your head shall be enough to repay for his life after you hung him by the town square this morning.” The Deerman looked at me with anger and confusion, though it swiftly turned to pity and sorrow.
“I… I apologize for your fathers passing, but It was not me who hung him. But..” the Deerman looked towards his hands previously splattered in the blood of the owner of this beautiful home I assumed and frowned and looked towards me tear filled.
“Would it truly help you grieve in your fathers passing if I let you take my head?”The question befuddled me as I reached for my axe to take it by his request but he quickly stopped me.
“Not that, that won't cut straight youngin. Here, have this.” He then handed me a sword, light yet sharp to the magical touch. As it floated with me I raised it and was about to cut down the beast like planned, but I stopped. This was too easy, to… non vengeful so what was wrong. I thought for a second, placing the saber towards my side as I pondered. Wait, did he say he didn't hang my father.
“Hey!!! You did hang him, you liar, sure you didn't actually hang him physically but your presence has brought him death and that's enough!!. Now see him for me.” The Deerman stood and towered the Pixie.
“Um… please.” Was the only words I could say as he pushed me back and caught the sword.
Later, I found myself at a table, probably handcuffed by the chest but I find that this cuff isn't on me, instead on the table on top of a paper. The paper was a phallic word followed by a multitude of words that described the gouging and stabbing of someone with their own antlers.
Another paper scattered down was a drawing of a small individual cut in two as a Deerman ate its flesh. More and more phallic and disturbing the drawings got so I stopped looking and closed my eyes.
“Aww please keep looking, little pixie. This one is my favorite.” This one depicted a picture of the Deerman with dark shades of charcoal and lead that created a deep and disturbing picture of a deer looking at the observer with malice, blood running from its eyes.
“Why would you show me these? There all disgusting and horrible, if not deserving of you.” The Deerman heard me state this and frowned but understood.
“Oh and I didnt mean to make you fall by the way, are you alright?” I checked my entire body not feeling much except for a bruise starting to form on the back side of my body.
“Yeah just peachy, so you gonna kill or eat me or maybe hypnotise me like you did my father?” I asked, hoping for none of these things but if I had to pick then straight murder should be good.
“No no no that's preposterous," the Deerman laughed as he pointed to me,
"I don't even have you tied up or chained. What makes you think I would do any of those things if you werent trapped?” I knew this as it was the first thing stated a paragraph ago but I digress.
“If you truly feel threatened little pixie then you shall leave, but dont come back with guards please, I can never get a word in and they always blame me for things I never do”. As I stood to leave I heard some sadness in that last bit of wording so despite my intentions I stayed seated.
“What do you mean? We've been told since we were younger that you sneak into town at night and steal, beat, and hang people for just knowing your appearance.” The Deerman looked surprised at this.
“Who's been spreading such disgusting rumors about me like that?” I thought for a moment about who in fact taught him this.
“Well there were history lessons in class about your antics and the debacle when you attacked the government because you didn't follow their rules about… uh…” I blanked on the reason but my words seemed to be tickling the Deermans feet with feathers as he laughed at what I stated.
He sat down at the chair opposite the table to me and reached under the table which turned out to be a desk and grabbed a bunch of closed envelopes neatly stacked in a pile. He then opened one and spoke the following words to life.
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Dear Ms Penelope of the flower shop, and little Susan.
I have gotten your letter regarding the drawing of a deer with bloodshot eyes and dark malaced glare. I must say as a deer myself I find this work fantastic and Beautiful to the eyes. The use of closer lines to convey a depth effect while never using another instrument of the arts was fantastic to see and I have personally hung this painting on the wall. Well truly I want to but I need to get a portrait case from the downtown store or whittle twigs to make a homemade one which as you can imagine is difficult with hooves. I just wanted to say that your Drawing was beautiful, very well detailed and an enjoyment to ponder its creation as I ate my soup and drank my raspberry lemonade. Not the heads of pixies newly born or the money of the people of Pixberg as you have written angrily on the back with threats like others but I digress. I hope you are to continue your art career and be successful in everything you do.
Yours Stickle Stag Denton (The Deerman)
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After reading the entire letter outloud and handing it to me to apparently check his work I gave back the letter and looked towards my hands.
“I have had to rewrite this letter twenty three times you know.” The Deerman said, looking down at the work as a gentle smile ran across his face.
“The people who used to come and take my mail left and gone.” Of course they did, I thought, they were scared of you as I was and still kinda am. The Deerman then looked toward the pixie and frowned, the look of decision on his face as he chose his dialogue option correctly.
“I-.. actually had your father deliver mail sometimes” to this I was shocked and slammed some cuffs into the table for effect.
“So you admit you were the one who hung my father after you used him to deliver your letters? But why? For a moment I thought you were kind as your words held no malice in your letters.” The Deerman matched my energy as he slammed the table and yelled in my face.
“Why would I hang my only friend?” To this I never thought about, sure I have friends, we play ball everyday at school I attend and watch movies on the weekends. But the Deerman? Would the Deerman have any friends?
“Not anymore, no friends for me because he was hanged for just knowing me.” The Deerman started reading my mind, maybe one of his powers as well.
“Now his child he spoke so positively on is here to kill me and-” The Deerman held his hoofs to his eyes as if to stop them from falling out.
“I almost let him, what a terrible fate for me, for your father, I'm so sorry.” The Deerman reached for me which I met with a gentle touch of magic back, not knowing if I should comfort him or throw him into one of his many sharp rusted cuffs and take him in. I decided on the altar.
“Hey, it's alright, but if you were friends of my father how come he wouldn't tell me about you?” The Deerman sniffled at this and crossed his head to the side.
“He didn't?” Was all the Deerman stated as he looked down to me.
“No, I apologize but he kept you a secret, I only found out of your existence from following him one day down the forest, we used to clean up some rowdy kids fire piles there”, I started remembering the patches of ashes that I promised to clean on the way home.
“But one day he said he would clean them himself but he went deeper than he ever did before down the path, he then called for the Deerman and I heard rustling in the bushes so I ran away. Later that day he came home. I never wanted to ask about it, just assuming that he was trying to slay you and gain a reward as he always complained that money was tight.” I then looked down to a recently dated envelope which was slightly burned by me.
“Besides today of course.” I felt tears breaking down the bottoms of my eyelids but I held them back from a riot which would occur when I went home.
“Those piles… Were letters that I've sent.. But the mail people would burn them, as such I have had to write the letters a multitude of times and forge fake names so the people would get my responses. I thought.” The Deerman started with a little stutter in his throat.
“I thought those letters would let people see I'm not as bad as people think but.. Your government found out of this somehow and started burning all mail of my writing at the edge of the forest.” His face looked to be a dam, a large wall that held tears behind it. Though I didn't know why.
“ But… one day when I went out at night to shovel the ashes up into a nearby trash can… Your Trashcan I assume, a pixie came out and offered to help me. Without realizing who I am because of the dark he helped me dig up the ashes and put them in his trash can. It was then when we walked the final wheelbarrow of ashes to his trash can and chatted that the porch light showed I was the Deerman. Instead of screaming and yelling however your father laughed and stated that I wasn't so scary. He then tried to fight me which I denied and he laughed even harder.” The Deerman seemed to smile at this memory but realized that he went off topic, the riot in my eyes being subdued for a moment.
“Uh.. Ever since he would come over and we would talk, about life, the village, literature and of course you. But.. I guess that's all changed now.” The Deerman realized what he just said and sat up straight. The Deerman then placed his hoofs on his lap.
“All the same, however. I apologize for your fathers death, small one, nobody in this world deserves that sorrow.” The Deerman then bowed, although his antlers did not fully let him resound in an audible thud which made me laugh like dad does…. Did.
“It's alright, but… did you hang him for anything in particular?” The Deerman chuckled though a little annoyed at the repetition.
“When…” The Deerman took a minute to think.
“When we met, what did I have in my hands?” I thought about it for a moment but easily remembered.
“Books of different sizes, why?” The Deerman handed one of the books to me, it was titled, Ic eom sārīg.
“Yes, this was one of the books.” The Deerman smiled,
“Can you tell me what city sticker it is from?” Looking at the sticker it was from a neighboring town, though the travel was nowhere close as the word neighboring would suggest. Losing three hours of time to and from just to get something.
Thinking that I looked up at the Deerman and realized.
“You… you wouldn't have been at the hanging, heck not even when you allegedly stole him from his bed, and took him to the townsquare and hung him.” I then thought for a second and wondered out loud.
“Then… who did?”
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The Deerman looked down at me as his face was painted with shame.
“Your government little buddy. But listen before you compl-”
“No!, they wouldn't kill their people unless they did something wrong.” At this I thought for a moment then teared up once again.
“He… He met you. I understood why he was hung… but there's nothing I can do about it…” I stood up and walked to the door, thanking the Deerman as I slumped towards the door. My world shattering as I grabbed the knob, without the head of the deer, yet with a still burning fire of vengeance. It must be adrenaline I thought as I turned the knob but realised I still haven't answered all the questions that riddled my mind. I turned as I opened the door and closed it, walking towards the currently sobbing Deerman.
“What.. um.. What did you do?” The Deerman sucked back tears and looked up.
“I beg your parden?”
“What… What did you do that day to anger the government so much?” The Deerman looked and shook his head.
“You wouldnt like the answer.” I then made a sly smile at him though it was one made of agony.
“I had my entire image of the government I loved shattered as they killed my father and stole him from our house without another word all in the same day. So try me.” I state in a joking yet fake tone of voice, The Deerman seemed to smile at this, but quickly stoned his demenor.
“Well… I didnt do anything wrong.” I looked at him in confusion.
“No seriously what did you do?” The Deerman looked up and crossed his head.
“Nothing”, he said in a more serious and sadly louder tone which made me respond louder.
“Dude, I know I just tried to kill you but please tell me what did you do? I just simply forgot from history class so I wanted it from the words of you” The Deerman stood and shouted once again.
“I seriously didn't do anything!!!!” The Pixie realized that this was going nowhere, as he looked upon the deer who had steam blowing from his ears.
“Look”, I said calmly,
“We're bickering like school children so.. Is there anything you aren't telling me? Seriously” This seemed to stun the Deerman for a moment as he sat back down and sighed a long breath.
“I did nothing wrong to them.. I apologize, I as well just lost a friend and lost my temper. Can we.. Discuss this over tea?” He asked, standing up and walking out of his studio and towards his kitchen. I nodded and went to sit down in the kitchen area, completely made of some type of wood as the tea pot boiled over and whistled and we both had clay mugs full of tea bags and know steaming hot water, he placed a plate atop both of them to let them ferment momentarily and leaned opposite of the counter to me.
“So… yes, I did nothing. But. That's it. I used to live there with all of you. The Government disliked me and my family but never openly spoke on it so at a young age I never knew, that was until my father and mother one day disappeared and my father told me the night before about the governments distrust of us. I slept in the shed that day, in the morning they were gone. I assumed I was next and became depressed.” The plates were raised at this point and I blew before sipping the tea, lavender texture touched my tongue like this story did my non existent heart.
“In a depressive state I walked to a town hall meeting and offered myself to be murdered in front of all of the people there. People comforted me and others laughed and stated joy under their breath. Which then brought upon a verbal fight between the sides that quickly could have became physical.” The Deerman then sipped his tea out of his special made mug that had a slide attached to one side of the mug, made for deer, by deer.
“But the Mayor called for order and looked me up and down, finally deciding a decree which after three months of discussion found that I must only go to places that allow me, and to allow me I would have to write a letter asking for their permission and such.” I looked at the Deerman confused looking down at his hoofs that fitted perfectly into his custom deer mug made for deers by deers.
“If you're wondering, no I cannot write with these.” His hoofs lifted up,
“So this became a problem but I found that a typewriter and the edges of my hoofs worked perfectly.”
“So” He started after starting to sip his tea again.
“I got myself my dads old typewriter and wrote letters to everyone. Neighbors, Family Friends, shop owners, and more. I had to write so much that I attended a writing center and learned proper grammar from a young age. Only two shops would allow me to enter town, so I went to outer towns to get other supplies, when I wrote to the governments about this they replied some backwards mumbo jumbo about needing to be allowed in a courthouse in order to fight it so I gave up.” At this the deer swirled a spoon in his tea, mixing the tea with invisible sugar.
“ But in the end I went to my normal convenience shop and got my normal Ramen but found that a new store clerk screamed at my presence and called the police on me. I was Swiftly detained and later found out that the store clerk was a part of a group of people that hated things they didn't understand, even me.” The Deerman then raised his tea like a preacher in a church.
“Unjustified hate is the evilest thing in the world, or so says one of my book characters.” He then took a sip of his tea.
“Back to what I was saying, the clerk called the police and I was thrown out without being able to explain how or what had happened. They ransacked my house, apparently pixies wandered into my yard and never returned to their families. Which was the rumor that started those ghastly posters that hung around the town square sometimes but yeah.”He finished his tea and just sat there laying his head on his arms.
“They stole my valuables, beat me to a pulp and when I tried to explain the situation I was cornered into the forest which before me was uninhabitable, and threatened to hurt me more.” His face looked down, watching the tea swirl and stop slowly.
“I lost everything and they even had pixies as young as you to come by and {guard} me. All they did was make fun of my looks and such and every time I spoke they would kick me or throw rocks at me.” To this I saw one of his antlers was broken at a point with the middle portions of the antler showing.
“My old friends abandoned me and all trust in that system was gone. So I left but started writing letters once the mailman who I befriended writing the letters so much, would come around and write to old friends giving them forgiveness and apologizing for giving them promised burdens.” I frowned at this, slightly remembering a mailman who was hanged for unknown reasons and was blamed by the Deerman. Though I had no intention of telling him.
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I then finished my tea and grabbed his hoof, sure I will be shunned, beaten, and worse hanged for my actions today, unlawfully swinging an axe, destruction of property and going into the illegal forest of death but that didn't matter. I had never lived a life like this deer had. Nor do I ever want to. To be cheated and made a fool all because of lies made by others. To have the place that promised him fortune and greatness to beat him where he stands. I just frowned and looked at the Deer, I walked towards the door promising I would come the next day but with food, suitcases full of clothes, and my personal possessions as I had been betrayed by the government. I requested his approval which he gleefully took, exclaiming all he will teach me and such things. It's what Dad would have wanted, his disdain towards the government made sense. I looked at the deer and the final words I said before leaving for what soon will be my old home and back here in the morning to my new foster parent/deer was one he never heard a human say before.
“I'm sorry”
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Wow a Happy ending, but more text always leads to shortcuts into death of dismay. He will do it again as he always does. To you reader I agree, I normally would but this tale is one of betrayal of man, no death needed for it is a true story of mine that happened days, weeks, months or minutes ago depending who you are in my life. I Just wanted to use this final section to explain something. I first wanted to state that I have been working on stories, my one year Hiatus has been of my own choosing, I had a tussle with some things in my life because of audio book creation. Maybe you understand my words and maybe these are new words. All I wanna say is to all the Young Writers in the world that keep the dream of literature today, keep on going, you will write fantastic things that I hope to one day read and learn. Fun characters and beautiful lands I couldn't dream of. I want everyone to enjoy my writing, I want to support those who do writing for fun and for profit. It's just sometimes, people dont wanna have others have that freedom or spot on the stage. So to all writers, go on that stage, even if your in the back row, and write to your heart's content.- Author Stickles
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