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The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/adorabletapeworm on 2024-09-19 20:09:54+00:00.

Previous case

There was a roar in the forest that woke the whole town at approximately 1:15 am.

Not long after my eyes snapped open, fully awake despite the hour, Victor called me. He only wanted the most experienced of Orion, not wanting to drag our trainees into something that could potentially be beyond our scope.

(If you’re not familiar with what Orion Pest Control’s services are, it may help to start here.)

I found Deirdre, who’d spent the night on my couch, staring out the window, face grim.

“It was a slaughter.” She breathed, eyes distant as though her mind was elsewhere. “The spirit of the forest is nearly broken.”

Whenever she has these moments of foresight, she has advised me that it is best to simply leave her be, as awful as I feel doing it. She has assured me that she is accustomed to seeing such tragedies. Weepers can get violent if their premonitions are interrupted.

So that’s what I did: I swallowed my guilt and walked out the door.

As I passed by the other apartments, I heard confused voices chattering behind closed doors. Lights were on. The braver/more reckless residents snuck peeks between their blinds and curtains, hoping to catch a glimpse at whatever could’ve made the sound.

When I arrived at the darkened trees, I asked for permission to enter the forest. There was no reply.

Well, that’s not good.

Hesitantly, I stepped across the threshold of the forest. Still, nothing. It was quiet. Nothing disturbed the brush or the leaves. Even the wind held its breath.

It felt different in the False Tree’s woods. Before that night, you could feel its eyes on you wherever you went. Could tell that it was listening to you. Scrutinizing you. Now, it felt far too open, as if the trees were endless, yet empty with no critters to occupy them.

After traipsing through the darkness for a bit, there was finally a noise. The rustling of something approaching me through the fallen leaves. As I trained my flashlight on it, I found that the footsteps belonged to a dog. Right off the bat, I recognized the dog for what it truly was despite having only read about them, though to tell the truth, I had expected it to be more intimidating.

Its white fur practically glowed as it sat politely on the ground in front of me. While it was a fairly big dog, its little wiry mustache made it look more like a dapper old man than one of the dreaded hounds of the Wild Hunt. What gave the animal away as a member of the Cŵn Annwn were its floppy red ears, stained the color of fresh blood.

“Hi?” I said to the hound.

It let out a soft ‘boof!’ and stood, looking at me like it wanted me to follow it, its red-tipped tail wagging. I obliged, letting the hound lead the way.

While I was following it, the dog abruptly stopped, letting out a low whine. Next to it was a mound of brown fur. As I got closer, I was met with the sight of two, disemboweled coyotes, their intestines leaking red onto the leaves below them. Blood coated their muzzles.

Oh God. Poor things…

The dog yipped, staring at me expectantly. Time to keep moving. Nothing I could do for the coyotes, now.

We encountered more dead animals on our path. A scattering of birds of varying species. Robins, buzzards, blue jays, hawks, even a bald eagle. All gutted like the coyotes, glassy eyes staring at nothing.

Briar’s voice arose from the trees, “It’s like this everywhere.”

Quickly, I turned towards where I heard him speak. He was crouched by a dead buck, tracing its antlers. For the first time since I’d met the Hunter, he looked solemn, kneeling before the deer in front of him as if grieving for it.

The hound let out a soft bark. Eyes distant, Briar told me that I’d better keep following the dog. I didn’t have to guess who the hound was leading me to.

Eventually, I saw the beam of two more flashlights cutting through the oppressive darkness. They were illuminating the False Tree. Not long after, a lantern provided the area with a subtle pale glow, making the surrounding trees appear even taller than they had before.

The smell of pine was overpowering as I drew nearer. The Shepherd of the Forest was small. It had shrunk down to the size of a child. It was crumpled down in the epicenter of the carnage, bark-covered hands over its eyes as its shoulders shook. This time, I didn’t see any squirrels or birds in its beard. Sap leaked from numerous gashes in its bark.

Reyna had lowered herself down to sit next to it. She didn’t try to touch the False Tree or the poor, dead raccoon beside her. Just reminding the distraught Neighbor that it wasn’t being left to deal with its misery alone.

The hound had trotted away, coming to sit next to what appeared to be a woman, at first. However, she had the same bright, intense gaze that Iolo and Briar had. The keen eyes of a Hunter. She reached down to scratch the hound’s ears as it guarded her.

From my left, I faintly heard the mechanic’s voice, speaking quietly in Gaelic. In the light of the lantern, I could see him on one knee before a dead black bear, similar to how Briar had been, gently stroking the unfortunate animal’s ears. In sharp contrast to his comforting voice and movements, he was wearing the same murderous expression I’d seen from him that night that he’d chased me within an inch of my life. I held back a shudder at the memory.

It occurred to me that the Huntsmen were giving funerary rights. They were treating those animals with the respect and dignity of fallen warriors.

Before I could ask any of them about what did this, I saw it. A cookie hanging from a tree. I swore under my breath.

Victor came over to stand by me, confirming my suspicions, “Hag tried hunting in the Shepherd’s forest.”

When the female Hunter spoke, I recognized her deep, husky voice instantly. She’d been in the church when I stole the ledger. “She lured two young ones into these woods. I’ve sent them home with one of my hounds. It will watch over them.”

That explanation made unfortunate sense. False Trees are extremely protective of human children, especially if they reside in close proximity to the Tree’s forest. False Trees have been known to lead lost kids out of their woods, or to show them where to find safe berries or mushrooms to eat if they’re hungry.

As such, the False Tree wouldn’t allow for two children to be brutally murdered in its home. And it had paid a terrible price for it.

Iolo approached the False Tree, kneeling before it, his tone just as delicate as it had been as he offered those poor animals his blessings. Reyna gave them some space, coming over to join me, her flashlight showing even more death around us.

She whispered to Vic and me, “They’re discussing what the False Tree wants to do with the bodies.”

“Whatever they decide, I’m going to offer Orion’s services,” Victor muttered. “Clearly, humans aren’t the only ones at stake when it comes to the hag.”

If she can do this to a False Tree, of all things, what else is she capable of?

Briar appeared from where he’d been giving last rites to the other fallen animals, waiting patiently beside the female Hunter, hands in his pockets.

Iolo eventually straightened up, waving his colleagues over as he strode over to join my coworkers and me.

“We’ll be givin’ the poor things a proper send off.” He informed us. “There’s a lone ash tree in a hill ‘bout five minutes north of here. Shepherd wants ‘em buried there. Best leave us to it.”

Victor replied, “It’ll take a long time with just you three. We can help gather them up.”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. The mechanic warned, “Now is not the time to try to get a debt over me, blue eyes.”

“I’m offering this freely with no expectations in return.” Victor explained calmly. “We’re here for the False Tree. No other reason. You can read my mind, if that’ll assure you.”

He stiffened when the mechanic took him up on it, beginning to search his eyes. Reyna held me back from trying to stop it.

Eventually, once Iolo found what he was looking for, he said, “Fine.”

With that, I saw Victor’s shoulders relax as the Huntsman stopped digging through his head. There’s a part of me that wishes that the boss would bite the bullet and name him. Though, I understand why he doesn’t want to be bound to the mechanic, so I haven’t pushed it.

His demeanor slightly less murderous, Iolo continued, “Shepherd gave us permission to pull the trucks in, provided we mind where we’re drivin’. It’ll still take some time, but better than tryin’ to do it all by hand.”

Victor nodded, seemingly completely recovered from having his mind read, “Sounds good.”

Gathering up the animals took a long time, even with all of us cooperating with each other. There were just… so many of them.

We all had a job to do. Briar and Victor did the majority of the digging. Reyna, the Huntress, and I were mainly responsible for locating and loading up each animal. The hound was a big help in making sure that we didn’t miss even a single bird or chipmunk. Meanwhile, the mechanic alternated between carting the bodies around and helping the other two dig.

As heartbreaking as the entire scene was, it got even worse when Reyna found a skunk that was a spitting image of Fireball. She hid her tears well. I would’ve cried, too.

By the time we got the last of the bodies to the ash tree, the sky was beginning …

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