CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "Why I No Longer Hunt in the Alpines" Creepypasta

Starting point is 00:00:01 I've been a hunter for a little over two years. I'm somewhat new to the sport, and admittedly don't have a lot of experience when it comes to everything involved. You'll oftentimes find me coming ill-prepared, forgetting critical gear, or just generally sucking at sneaking up on a deer in the wilderness. White Tail is my preferred game, and the bow hunt is my preferred method, since I'm completely in nipped with the rifle. Don't get me wrong, I'm a typical guy. I enjoy my guns.

Starting point is 00:00:31 It's just the fact that I can't hit the blind side of a barn when one is in my hands that puts me off of them. However, when it comes to bow, specifically a crossbow, I'm pretty damn good. I'm on target roughly 90% of the time shooting open sight, and I've managed to nail a deer from a hundred yards out. This was on my first bow hunt, and I was pretty damn proud of myself, hauling out a 250-pound four-point buck in the back of my truck. My favourite location to hunt is around the alpine loop in Utah. Absolutely stunning location, from the twisting rivers to the shimmering quakeys that turned bright gold in the fall.

Starting point is 00:01:11 I'll commonly camp there with my girlfriend, right when the leaves are starting to turn. It was August on the first day of the opening for bow hunting season. I got and skunked the year prior and had high hopes for this season. My girlfriend, unfortunately, couldn't come with me. She had a job interview that she couldn't miss, so I was left on my own for a week. She was supportive, wished me luck, and I was excited to have an opportunity to fill my book tag.

Starting point is 00:01:40 I'd arrived at the location I'd scouted her month prior, commonly seeing small herds of deer wandering down to the streams around here, with several deer trails that led up into the hills. I set up camp, lit myself a small fire, had some hot dogs, and in the early morning, just before the sun crested over. the hills, I headed out. I chose one of the deer trails and began following it deep into the backwards, hoping to catch one of the herds on their way down from deeper in.

Starting point is 00:02:08 The walk was peaceful, looking around at the dim and serene scenery as I ducked under branches and walked around rocky patches. The brisk morning wind tickled my ears, sending small spurts of pins and needles down the sides of my neck, making me shiver. The birds were chirping happily, accompanied by the rustling of the quakees. like a rainstick being slowly tipped end over end. The smell of scattered pines only added to the environment, as beautiful as it had ever been.

Starting point is 00:02:39 The sky slowly shifted from a deep navy blue to more gradient shades of sapphire as I twisted my way further up, and after a while I looked down at my watch. It was nearly five in the morning. I'd been hiking for nearly an hour and decided I should probably rest, so I didn't get too tired and couldn't manage,

Starting point is 00:02:59 to get the deer back to camp. I took off my bow and deer sled from my back, setting them off to the side before grabbing my thermos. It was filled to the brim with dark and strong coffee that I gladly drank, sitting myself down on a nearby rock as I watched the sunrise. I spent a while there, just taking in the small noises. It was nice to be removed from the city,

Starting point is 00:03:23 away from the bustle and stress of work, away from people, a place where I could breathe. Honestly, even if I didn't come back with my dear, this made the trip worth it. I leaned back against a pine that sat behind me, closing my eyes and breathing deeply, completely relaxed in this place, as I let every little noise and shift of the wind hit my ears. After a few minutes, my mind threatening to pull me into an unsolicited nap. I heard a soft and rhythmic patter.

Starting point is 00:03:55 It was close by, one right after the other, leaves crissed. and it was a twig snapping that in turn snapped me out of my trance. I quickly looked around, sitting up straight as I continued to listen. It was footsteps, coming in set of two, light yet deliberate. It was a deer, and it was heading right for me. I quickly and quietly grabbed my bow, pulling back the drawstring and arming it with a bolt, before sitting back against the tree, waiting patiently. They kept coming closer and closer,

Starting point is 00:04:33 and before I knew it, it came into view. The large animal was only 10 yards to my right, taking large steps down the path with his head held high. Even in the dim light, I could tell it was a buck, and about the largest buck I'd ever seen. This guy had to be at least 350 pounds, if not more. The rack on this monster stood tall

Starting point is 00:04:58 at a non-typical seven points like the spiky crown adorning its head. As I looked on in awe at this massive silhouette, I could see that bits of felt still hung from parts of his rack, only telling me that somehow this beast was going to grow even larger

Starting point is 00:05:13 over time. He'd stopped the graze at various undergrowth as I raised my bow. It was a beautiful shot, clear sight of its side and a clean shot to its heart. I steadied myself, put my sides dead on with the back of his shoulders, breathed out, and placed my finger on the trigger. It was supposed to be a clean shot, the easiest and luckiest shot I'd ever had and would probably ever get.

Starting point is 00:05:40 However, fate decided something different. That 10% came back to bite me in the ass as a large gust of wind came right up as I squeezed the trigger and caught the fletching of my arrow by the sails of a boat on the earth. The sudden wind spook the buck and he turned away from me right as my arrow reached him. It veered up into the left, the deer turned right, and my tip grazed its upturned tail before slicing across his back and past its head, sticking into a tree in front of him. My stomach came up to my throat as the animal let out a bellow of pain, staggering and stumbling before bolting off up the mountain, his steps falling into the background and fading deeper into the

Starting point is 00:06:24 I sat there, hand over my mouth, just staring at my arrow that was now buried deep into the trunk of a quakey. Damn, oh damn, oh damn, I yelled under my hand before slamming my fist into the tree behind me, getting up and bolting after the buck. I can't describe how insurmountably horrible I felt. I'd sliced and split the back of this animal's skin and couldn't even imagine how much pain I'd caused it. I didn't even bother with a sled or retrieving my crossbow bow bow. fault. All I cared about was catching up to that buck and putting it out of its misery. I love animals, especially wild ones, and I was horrified that I could have done this. Killing is one thing, and I always use as much of the animal as possible when I did, so nothing

Starting point is 00:07:11 meant to waste. But to wound an animal and leave it? No, not happening. I love the sport too, but I didn't give a damn about my tag at that point, as I trudged up the mountain as quickly as my legs would carry me. Fortunately, or unfortunately, I was able to track the animal by the drops of blood it had left behind, scattered on the leaves and ground under my feet. I was out of breath by the time I reached the top of the mountain, leaning over my knees to catch my breath. As I looked around, trying to keep track of my trail, my heart suddenly sank. I'd lost track of the damn trail, and I even went back to retrace my steps to try and find it again. However, it was no use.

Starting point is 00:07:58 It made it to the top of the mountain, and then the trail went cold, travelling over the rocks and vanishing somewhere over the other side. I held my head, the image of that poor animal still there. I'd failed. I'd mortally wounded a beautiful animal in the most horrific way possible, and I'd lost it, unable to correct my stupid mistake. I stood there, leaning against the same. the nearby tree, and cursing myself profusely for what had happened.

Starting point is 00:08:28 And then, I heard it. A bellow, a deer call, coming from somewhere close. I quickly looked around, a spark of hope as I realized that I may not have lost the book after all. However, the call could have come from anywhere. I was at the top of a mountain. It could have come from a hundred yards away, and was just echoing off the stone. However, as a dot slowly began to move out from the tree line of the meadow below, I quickly took out my binoculars.

Starting point is 00:09:00 Out of the trees, walking with a grace it shouldn't have had, was a seven-point buck. I was relieved, knowing that I'd found him. However, something wasn't right. He was walking just fine, completely graceful, just like he'd been when he'd first crossed my path, and as the sun finally broke over the hills and bathed the meadow in light, Nothing can compare or ever will compare To what I saw The box's back was cleanly split open

Starting point is 00:09:33 All the movements of his shoulders could be seen As exposed muscle and tendon contracted and moved Like a skin suit that had yet to be zipped up Blood dripping down from the flesh and down his legs To the ground with every movement I felt sick to my stomach Seeing the exposed meat and bone under his skin However, that wasn't all.

Starting point is 00:09:57 At least ten toe began to walk out as well, and everything about them seemed twisted and wrong. All of them in the herd looked like they were in the advanced stages of wasting disease. Thin skin stretched impossibly tight over their bones, most of their necks bowing downward unnaturally as the heads pointed forward in painful positions. Their eyes were crazed, some bulging out of their skulls like they were being pushed forward from inside. my pulse quickened, my hand beginning to shake, and yet I'd look on. Some of them look scarred from any number of injuries, and one in particular dragged its back leg behind it, blackened and decayed,

Starting point is 00:10:36 only hanging onto the joints by a couple of stubborn ligaments that just wouldn't let go. Another was covered in masses and tumours, all scabbed and extending from its chest to its face, where it dominated its features, hardly looking like a dough anymore, almost unrecognisable, aside from its body structure. And then, there was the fawn. It came out last, hunched and sickly like the others. However, it dragged behind it what looked like what was left of its twin. All that was there from the congenial twin were its back legs.

Starting point is 00:11:11 However, they connected to its stomach and were covered in an indiscernible amount of mud and grime from being dragged along the forest floor for God knows how long. It was trailing behind one of the dough. However, it stopped, its legs shaking before it collapsed under its own weight. The dough turned and walked over to it, its crazed eyes locking onto its fawn before it did something that to this day still makes the bile come up to the back of my throat to think about. After no more than a moment, the dough brought its hoof down on its own fawn,

Starting point is 00:11:45 over and over again as the fawn twitched, and with the faeced. and without any hesitation it leaned down and began to eat its own young strip by bloody strip. I quickly covered my mouth, gagging at what I was witnessing and going to look away. However, a noise made me look back. It was the buck, calling out that same bellow, and I tried my binoculars on him. He was looking at me. This damn thing was looking at me, dead in the eye through the damp binoculars, standing dead still as puffs of condensation came from his flared nostrils. He was still, I was still, frozen in fear as I realized what I previously thought were the remains of old felt.

Starting point is 00:12:35 It wasn't felt at all, but shredded, old and rotting flesh, hanging from its antlers in red and brown ribbons. It raised its head, its jaw falling broken, and uneven as he bellowed at me again. And, unable to watch any more of the horror show, I quickly lowered my binoculars, only to find that all of them, every single last member of his herd, was now watching me,

Starting point is 00:13:00 all still in the meadow below. With that last horrific image engraved in my mind, I turned and ran, heading down the mountain faster than I thought I could. I left my bow, my gear, even my camping equipment. I didn't care. All I cared about was getting back to my damn truck

Starting point is 00:13:19 and getting the hell out of there as fast as I could. Didn't tell my girlfriend about this. I didn't tell anyone. I wouldn't know where to even start if I tried. What I was supposed to do? Get a counsellor, walk into that office and tell them I'm traumatized by the herd of demonic deer. I could tell a ranger,

Starting point is 00:13:39 but all they'll do is tell me it's wasting disease and not do a damn thing. And God knows I'm not going back up there to clear them out. No, I'm just not going to go back there ever again. Screw that and screw hunting. If my girlfriend wants the camp, I'll take her somewhere else, anywhere else. Just never even go near the alpine loop again. If she asks about my gear, I'll tell her I sold it, that I'd given up hunting and taken up a new hobby.

Starting point is 00:14:09 Maybe fishing would be less terrifying. I know that thing was watching me though. I knew he could see me. I don't know how, but I knew he could. No amount of camera gear or deer blinds could hide you from that thing's watch. That was his territory and his herd, and he made damn sure I knew it. And the thing is, I'm pretty sure he doesn't want me back either. I could see him watching me in my rearview mirror, standing in the centre of the road,

Starting point is 00:14:42 making sure I left.

CreepsMcPasta Creepypasta Radio - "Why I No Longer Hunt in the Alpines" Creepypasta

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