The little broken thing ambled through the high yellow grass of the Birch forest. Head carried low, as the black contraption that was his face felt particularly heavy today. The Endlessness was empty this afternoon – a decided lack of potential Mummies had caused his spirit to ebb considerably.
Then he caught the scent. It was sickly, cloying. But it was the scent of a living? Being. And as far as his desperate little mind was concerned, that Being could be maternal.
The Empty Child limped determinedly towards the source of the scent, unaware of the small black pools of sludge he sloshed through as he moved awkwardly, jerkily, as though unused to the limbs he'd worn so long.
The forest had become quiet, but that meant nothing to him.
“Mummy? Mummy, are you there?”
The fawn knew he was close. He could not yet -see- the Mummy, but he knew She was there.
“Mummy, I can't see you. Are you there, Mummy?”
Now he could just make out a jumbled mass of white ahead, half-obscured by the tall, waving grass. His eyesight none too good, the Empty Child came eagerly, anxiously forward, nearly tripping over his dragging hooves.
“Are you my Mu-”
Pain pain pain. He did not realize that his front left leg was gone until after he'd crashed to the earth and found he could not easily rise again. Blood gushed from the stump where his leg had been cleanly severed by serrated teeth. Even in the dulled tunnel vision of the Empty Child's mind, he knew that this was definitely NOT a Mummy.
Looking up, the fawn could now all too clearly see the beast, skull-faced like he'd seen some deer, but also bone-bodied, like those that bore the markings of the Day of the Deer but without the sleek black fur beneath. In some ancient, hidden part of the Empty Child's mind, an image was called up – Wolf. Some deep instinct caused him to shudder, though he remained silent and still despite his intense pain. In the creature's jaws it clenched the fawn's leg, bloodied and mauled. Black strings of ooze hung from it, covering every joint and suspending an ugly mass of itself within the ribcage, like a spider's egg sack. An eerie, sickly green glow hung about the skull of the creature, pulsating softly as though with life.
The beast stared at him, crouched among the grass but still large enough to loom above. It spat away his severed limb and adjusted, preparing for the pounce that would end the Child's curiosity...
---
“Rheeeaaaghrrr!”
The white beast never even properly saw what hit it. The slender stag seemed to come from nowhere, hooves flailing and a mad cry tearing itself from his throat. Wild mane and tall-carried tail of iridescent blue and green thrashed madly as once, twice, thrice the frantic hooves came down on the hound's head. The skull splintered and groaned as it was beaten mercilessly, and finally came free of the rest of the body.
Shoe panted heavily as he stood over the maimed fawn. He had seen the deed happening from across the forest, and tears rose hot in his eyes and choked him as he realized he was too late. Peering in horror at the Empty Child's stump, he hesitated – realizing that there was no blood flow. Indeed, the only blood he could see was that from the initial severing. The injury itself seemed to have healed over and – no. It could not be. Was the limb actually – slowly – growing back?
A rattle and a clunk behind the stag caused him to whirl sharply, and his large eyes shot wider than ever as he saw the cracked skull of the bone-beast reconnect to the rest of the body – seemingly dragged into place by thick tendrils of the black goo that encased the chest.
Well Shoe wasn't going to put up with people who didn't play fair.
He dove in again immediately, pummeling the skull with both feet, even going so far as to trample the head of the creature back and forth. Kicking and smashing the skull away from the rest of the body, he noted that green light poured through the cracks he'd made in the bone. Already he'd nearly worn himself out, and he wasn't sure he could finish the job. In fact, as he stood by catching his breath, he saw that the black tendrils were once more reaching out for the skull.
Shoe's brows knit together, and he snorted strongly, peering around. They weren't too far from the playing rocks. Kicking the skull further from the rest of the body, he dragged it as close as he could to one of the taller rocks. Leaping above, he found a suitable stone and shoved it to the edge. Peering down, he could see the rest of the body rise, stagger a few steps and rush towards him!
His next few movements were mindless. He charged the stone, headbutting it so that it fell from the edge of the playing rock, down down – and smashed heavily on the skull below.
The rest of the skeletal creature collapsed in mid-stride. It plowed heavily into the dirt and kicked madly for a few seconds before going still.
Shoe stood above the smashed fragments, trembling. He had not been touched by the goo itself, had not sustained any injuries, but still he shook – the normally friendly stag had never, never committed such a violent act.
Well. Not recently, anyway.
No time to wait for the adrenaline to wear off. He dropped from the rock, landing clumsily, and looked to where he had left the dark fawn with the strange mask.
It was gone.
He returned to the tall grass, poking and probing here and there, but there was nothing. A small depression and some blood were all that he could find. The thing didn't even give off a proper smell.
The bewildered stag turned back, this time to study the skeleton creature. The black goo that had once made the bones dance like a puppet were gone, melted or dissolved into nothing. Something in the smashed remains of the skull caught his eye – a black jewel. It was chipped and scored by the rock that had been dropped so unceremoniously on it, but it otherwise seemed none the worse for wear.
Odd.
Shoe had never seen the Gods, and he had never seen anything like this jewel. However, he did believe in the Gods, and whenever he was troubled or his Friends were particularly loud the stag would go and sit by the twin idols.
One of his friends came very close, and whispered in his ear that it might be a good idea to take the jewel to the idols with him. He twisted his mask out of the way and had just bent to pick it up when he heard a rustle.
The fawn.
It stood there, staring at him silently. Expectantly. Shoe had never been afraid of a fawn before, but suddenly he felt chilled and uneasy. The thing came a step closer, and he realized that the thing's leg had grown back. Blood caked the fur where there had once been only a stump, the new leg wizened and weak-looking but appearing to grow stronger even as Shoe looked on.
The fawn took a step toward him, and a heartless, muffled voice came from somewhere behind that mask. “Are you my Mummy?”
Shoe balked. His Friends swarmed around the thing, not close enough to touch but seemingly drawn to it. They chattered and squabbled like squirrels over an acorn, and he felt his unease grow stronger.
The stag had never turned his back on a fawn before. But as his desire to run grew stronger, he turned and made his way briskly towards the idols. The fawn did not seem able to keep up, though it hauled its clumsy limbs in what seemed a desperate fashion.
Shoe swallowed hard. The horror of the thing fought with his big heart. He would never abandon any fawn looking for help, but this – this thing – it wasn't a fawn, whatever it was. Not a proper one.
Silently, he turned his head away, pinning his ears to his skull and breaking into full stride to escape the frantic, moaning pleas of the dark fawn.
“Mummy... Mummy please... I'm afraid...”
---
The Mummy had gone.
The Empty Child stood, swaying, his small chest heaving. He had tried his very best to keep up with the swift, slender stag, but with a still-growing, shifting, twisting left foreleg he had no chance. He peered around, and saw the bones remaining of the beast from earlier.
“M-Mummy?”
He took a step closer. No evil black goo hung from the skeleton now. Another step, and he was close enough to sniff, the sound hollow and clipped. “Mummy, is that you?”
He folded his long limbs carefully, sitting pressed against the oddly warm bones. He nuzzled them gently, awkwardly, and he found himself strangely at peace. The little fawn huddled against the remains, buried his head among the ribs, and heaved a heavy sigh before falling deeply asleep.
Awesome work! I really