This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/PageTurner627 on 2024-09-15 05:31:41+00:00.

The snow came fast, thicker than I’d ever seen it. One minute, I was tracking a buck through the pines, and the next, the world had turned white. No sound, no sign of life—just me, alone in the Northwoods of Wisconsin. I couldn’t even see my own damn tracks behind me.

I should’ve headed back when the first flakes started falling, but you don’t give up on a good hunt. Not when you’ve been doing this as long as I have. Stubbornness, I guess. That’s what my dad used to say. “You’re gonna die out here one day, boy, if you don’t learn when to quit.”

Well, maybe he was right.

By the third day, I had no idea where I was. The snow hadn’t let up, and every step felt heavier, slower. The trees all looked the same—like they were closing in on me, watching. I hadn’t eaten in two days, not even a scrap of jerky left in my pack. My stomach had gone from rumbling to just feeling empty. Hollow.

I tried to keep my head on straight, but the cold does things to a man’s mind. I started seeing things—just flashes at first. Shadows in the trees. A shape moving just outside my vision. I told myself it was nothing. Maybe it was. But I knew something wasn’t right.

Then, I saw him.

At first, I thought it was another trick of the snow, but no. He was real. A man, huddled under a pine, shivering, barely holding it together. He looked like he’d been out here longer than I had—face pale, eyes wide and sunken. He didn’t say anything when he saw me. Just stared.

I should’ve been relieved to see someone. I should’ve helped him.

But all I could think about was how hungry I was.

I remember walking toward him, each step like wading through snowdrifts, sluggish and inevitable. His eyes got wider, like he knew. Like he could see the darkness in me, feel the weight of what was coming.

Without warning, I attacked him, fast and brutal. Before I knew it, I was on top of him, my hands around his throat, squeezing until the life drained from his eyes.

It didn’t take long. Too weak to fight back or even scream. I don’t remember much after that. Just the sound of tearing flesh. The warmth of blood on my frozen fingers. The taste of meat, filling that hollow place inside me.

When it was done, I sat there for a while, breathing heavy. My mind felt clearer, sharper. Like something had snapped into place. The hunger was gone, but something else was growing inside me. Something darker.

I wandered toward the stream not far from where it happened. I needed to wash the blood off. The water was cold, biting at my skin, but I didn’t care. I knelt down, cupping the water in my hands, splashing it on my face.

That’s when I saw it.

I looked into the water, expecting to see myself—muddy, worn, but me. Instead, staring back was something else.

The face staring back was skeletal and twisted, with hollow eyes that burned like coals. And from its head, long, jagged antlers sprouted, twisting up into the cold sky like the branches of a dead tree.

I blinked. Splashed the water again. But it didn’t go away.

The reflection grinned. Lips pulling back to reveal sharp, bloodstained teeth.

And I understood. It was me. Or what I had become.