Snowblind

Written By Pyke Xue

Howling wind whipped through the conifer forest with bitter fury. The heavy parka did little to protect himself from the rapidly-dropping temperatures. He couldn't recall how he'd become lost. He couldn't recall who he was, for that matter. His hands felt numb in the heavy winter gloves, rubbing them vigorously against one another as his balance staggered.  To and fro he weaved. Snow boots crunched in the inches deep snow. It was a battle to raise his heavy feet out of every indent. His body showed the signs of stress and fatigue. The hood was pulled tighter around his face, mostly hiding his facial features. His breath crystallized from the bitter cold. Each shallow breath caused undue strain to his burning lungs. Moving forward was his only option. He had to keep moving or he would surely die of hypothermia. The movement was all that provided any warmth.

The forest roof allowed little sunlight to penetrate its overgrowth. The air temperature had fallen well below zero and the dark forest made it feel twenty degrees colder. The frigid atmosphere was all his frantic mind could focus on. The cold and the pain his body was in. His frail human body wasn't meant to survive such an unforgiving environment. He coughed and wheezed, gasping as each breath was a thousand knives cutting apart his lungs. His vision blurred intermittently as his shoulders collided painfully with nearby trees, keeping him somewhat upright. Snowflakes dotted the air and he trembled with the fear of dying lost and alone.

His teeth chattered in spite of himself. There was no willing them to stop, so much as he tried. The lost traveler warmed his fingers beneath his armpits, but even that provided only so much warmth as he lost more and more body heat to the violent wind. The chattering of his teeth grew louder and louder, yet as he trekked forward... the sound wasn't matching the impact of his teeth. What could be knocking so loudly he wondered in spite of himself. His hands ached and his fingers were so stiff. Frostbite had settled in, he resigned to his fate. Delirium and morbid curiosity tempted him to look. He'd never seen a frostbitten hand before- at least he couldn't remember having previously- and this may be his last chance.

Try as he might, he couldn't remove the gloves with his hands. His fingers simply wouldn't bend in the ways he needed them to, so he did the only thing available to him and chewed on the end of a fingered sleeve with teeth that suddenly had a superior grip. He could feel his teeth penetrating the thick cloth to his hardened finger. The very thought made him shudder with dread. He'd heard horror stories of frostbitten body parts turning black. Each tooth was somewhat sharper and more pointed than his teeth had been- at least he thought they used to be flatter. The further he ventured into the forest, the more he forgot and the stranger his body felt.

The gloved finger slipped from his mouth as he forgot how it even got there, numbly dropping his hand to his side no worse for wear. The lonely sound of fresh snow crunching under his weight provided his only companion on this journey. His eyes glazed over somewhat with a vacant stare. As hope sank into despair, so did his boot into an unseen burrow. His boot dropped through the false forest floor up to his knee. A dull bellow escaped his mouth as he fell- unceremoniously- face-first into the snow. It was unmistakable. That baritone yawp. It was him. It was so familiar. It was overshadowed by the painful displacement of his knee as he lay there, panting hot breath.

The thick fog of crystallized vapor rose from his parted mouth every other second. His lungs struggled to keep him alive against his will. How wonderful it would be to feel the sweet embrace of mercy from this purgatory. If he weren't so determined to reach his destination, he could just close his eyes and let this misery fade.  

Bitter cold numbed his mind with migraines centered over his temples. The unbearable strain on his body was enough to make the weakest man give in to despair. This was not a luxury he could accommodate. Even as a gloved hand clutched a handful of snow, he knew he had to be somewhere, knew he had to be there urgently- and soon. Something was terribly wrong and the longer he was away the further his condition worsened. Lying down in resignation of his grim fate seemingly empowered him with untapped vigor as his limbs trembled.

Exhaustion fought against his limbs in their struggle to heft himself. Gravity's effect doubled, tripled, even quadrupled in keeping him earthbound- at least it certainly felt as such. A defiant grunt caught in his throat. His leg, lodged in the burrow, felt wrong, stiff, sore. He'd hit his knee with a decent amount of force against the angled slope of the burrow's entrance. It was enough to well tears in his eyes, tears that froze midway down his cheeks, framing his pain in place. Preliminary inflammation set into the bruised joint as he willed his leg to move, the slightest movement eliciting violent screams from the man. There must have been an injured animal nearby, because his human screams were made a duet by the mournful bleating of what he thought was a goat. The sound was on top of him but he couldn't see any animals, injured or otherwise.

An injured animal meant a desperate animal. What if it was starving and injured? It could attack to kill! His pupils constricted as fear triggered his fight or flight reaction. The unhindered leg bucked, kicking up the loose top layer of snow. This frantic movement worked to loosen the collapsed dirt and snow holding his trapped leg in place. The animal was nearing. The wild bleats of a frightened animal were closing in. It filled his ears so vividly, even though his ears were snug and confined in the toasty-warm hood of the parka. He screamed for help the loudest he could but that animal was drowning him out. For every word he spoke the animal became louder. Louder and louder, closer and closer. His fidgeting was relentless now as he kicked the air as if he were repelling an attacker from behind. Fear sent his mind into frenzied flight, gloved hands scrambling to grab anything for leverage to pull his body up.

If it weren't for those frantic movements, his leg would have remained locked securely in place. His sickly-hard fingers sank into the ground like anchors and, with the strength of several men, he dragged himself forward like a horizontal cliffhanger. Grunting his fierce determination, his gloved hands dug grooves into the frozen earth. A defiant snort erupted from his nose as a plume of frozen breath lifted skyward. He growled his frustrations as he heard the beast come nearer and nearer. Slowly, but surely, the snow and dirt released their hold on his ankle. His foot pulled free of its captivity -sans boot- but in the moment his leg dislodged, bones ground and popped audibly with the most stomach-wrenching, bone-pulverizing sound. He was deaf to his own screams. His mouth hung open, but his voice wasn't coming out. He could feel himself making the sounds. He could feel the strain on his burning vocal chords- but his voice was nowhere to be heard.  Only the beast's mocking bluster filled the air.

The last of his rational mind was being pushed aside by the fear. He didn't think twice about the lost boot. He didn't think twice about dying in the cold. His frozen hands wrenched themselves from the ground, balling into fists as he pushed up. The adrenaline boost made his head spin. Every part of his form ached for rest as he pulled himself to his knees. Something didn't feel quite right but his trembling body couldn't stay in this position for long.

Steam rose from the ground beneath him. The blood dribbling form his torn gloves stained the purity of snow red. He wobbled to and from trying to process the sight of his frostbitten fingers. They'd thickened and blackened. He couldn't figure out he had only two fingers. The gloves rose to his mouth as he attempted to remove them with his teeth once more. It didn't hurt this time when his teeth sank into his hands. They didn't even penetrate the flesh and as the gloves came off he could only puzzle over the deformities that were his hands.

The index fingers were fused to his ring fingers, shrunken, shriveled and barely recognizable as fingers.  His pinkies were missing altogether while the thumbs melted into the larger of the two black masses. Odd how his fingers were numb to the cold. Stiffly, they wiggled with the slightest movements. An itch drew the attention from his morbid fascination. His blackened right hand dully rubbed at his forearm, scratching an itch that wouldn't be sated. His nose huffed an indignant snort as he fell forward trying to reach into the parka's sleeve. His fingers wouldn't respond with their former finesse. As much as he tried to push up the sleeve he couldn't get at that itch. The parka was constricting as a boa squeezing its prey. He felt uncomfortable. Hands fumbled at the zipper, making it jingle against the coat's metal teeth. Panic began to well up more and more. Even the hood felt constricting as his migraine intensified. Even his ears felt tightly compressed. He staggered forward, clutching his head in pain.

Hisses passed through gritted teeth. Nostrils flared. Agitation clouded thought. Frustration. Fear. Anger. A louder snort and that beastly bellow. It was driving him mad. Thick hands worked under the hood, but his efforts to pull it back were hindered. Another indignant snort and he punched the ground, his body falling forward into a quadrapedal stance. His legs kicked for traction angrily as he pushed with his arms. Every muscle seemed to clench in sync as he launched forward. That mounting rage granted him the strength to overcome adversity. The problem was that he was now locked into a momentum he couldn't control as he continued to lunge forward with incredible force. His legs struggled to keep up, stumbling and forcing him to push off the ground with his arms.

Even missing one boot, speed was on his side. The trees became a blur as he gained his footing, powering forward on a limping gait. Wild sensation of freedom filled him as he wanted to run. Run far from the beast. Run from himself. Run to where he needed to be.

The spirit was willing where the body faltered. Stamina depleted, he collapsed against a tree. Steaming breath rapidly left his mouth as his chest heaved visibly. He was beside himself, admittedly. That had felt exhilarating. Fear and anger were excellent motivators.

Little light broke through the canopy of the deep forest. Densely packed vegetation hid him well from predatory eyes. The further he progressed the more at ease he'd become. Distance was irrelevant and when everything looked the same it was impossible to gain his bearings.

Panting roughly, he closed his eyes and rest his forehead against the tree's bark. How he'd made it this far was nothing short of a miracle. He wasn't even running on fumes anymore and whatever willpower he'd burnt coming this far was taxed. Something deep down urged him to venture deeper into the forest despite an inability to comprehend why. He was certain of his death now. The pain was worsening. The threshold of reasonable pain tolerance had long since been surpassed, yet he continued on.

His left arm rested just above his head against a tree while his right dangled limply at his side. This was it: the moment he gave up; the moment he surrendered to fate; the moment he laid down and died with a whimper. There was no more he could give. The grizzly end to this sordid affair had arrived without a single answer to the madness.
The sun set on the horizon. Glimpses of pastel speckled what sky could be seen. The temperature dropped ten degrees every passing minute but the cold didn't faze him, nor the increased snowfall. In fact, he'd become rather oblivious to his environment in that moment. Perhaps this is what death felt like. The bliss of not feeling. His final moments of humanity were being shown some mercy; miserable, sickening, mocking pity for a man on his last leg.

His body fell against the tree. Panting for breath, he closed his eyes a moment as he leaned his head against the frost-covered bark. His eyes gazed down, utilizing what light remained, and for the first time on this journey, sensed the ache in his left knee. A dull, throbbing pain as he initially realized it must have happened when he fell into that burrow. For whatever reason, he brushed a light dusting of caked-on snow from his right knee before moving to the other, except he couldn't feel his other knee. To that end, he couldn't see his other knee. It just wasn't there. He was standing, but he could see only one visible knee. His puzzled mind was far too numbed to dwell on the logistics of how he was still standing, even as he reached out with his left hand. He placed his right hand on his right knee, likewise placing his left hand where the other should have been and his hand continued to what felt like the back of his knee. It felt as if it were sticking out the other side, in the wrong direction. It was then and only then that he realized something had happened and without a second's warning, he was burning up inside his heavy, insulated parka.

Stumbling backwards, he cried out in a frightened bleat. Eyes shot wide open and hands clasped over his gaping mouth with a clack. He was burning up and his body ached terribly. Every muscle was being stretched taut and to its limit. It was enough to make him claustrophobic in his own skin. The ample parka was visibly stretched outward until each seam came into view. The waistline of his winter pants dug into his skin and his pants felt two sizes too small. The misshapen lumps that had once been fingers fumbled to grasp the parka's zipper again. His chest barreled outward as his body begged for release from those constraining pants. The keratin-covered cloven “fingers” clicked and clacked with futile motion as he tried desperately to offer his body relief.

He bleated in rapid succession at the discomfort in his head. The agonizing sensation of having rods lodged into his skull brought tears to his eyes as he staggered in a daze. The sickening skull-cracking agony flooded his field of vision with flickering stars. Those cloven hands shot to his head, grasping his temples with vice-like force as the pain intensified drastically. Now, it felt as if those same rods that had been shoved into his skull were being slowly ripped out in sadistic fashion. Why was he in so much pain? Why did he feel like his body was being torn apart?

The darkness broke with a fleck of light wafting amidst the snow. Then another. And another. Luminescent balls of yellow light, ranging in size from pin-pricks to marble-sized, danced around him in a dazzling display, illuminating the surrounding forest. The snowfall was picking up in its intensity yet again, yet these lights even broke through that blinding wall of white.

He reached out with his cloven hand, touching one of the larger lights. It faded the moment he made contact, but left him feeling strangely warm all over. A bestial snort arose at the feeling of heat making him even more uncomfortably warm in his tight clothing. His face ached terribly. Something was very wrong as he noticed for the first time how his nose had taken on a black complexion. Not only black, but flatter against his face.

He stumbled on his left foot, feeling more and more heat build up in his body as he made contact with more of the lights. It was increasingly difficult to walk. Running on all fours felt so natural. It called to him like a force of nature, compelled him. Beckoned him to run like a beast..

An aurora of light grew brightly on the horizon- or what he perceived as the horizon. Brighter and brighter the shifting, multi-colored lights became. It was difficult to discern the features of the silhouetted figure emerging from the depth of the lights, much like an object obscured by the intensity of the sun. The approaching figure's outline rippled and wavered to and fro. Not just in front of him though; on all sides the same was happening. As the figures approached on all sides, the intense lights faded, leaving the forest illuminated by the pale glow of the spectral deer. Translucent with a ghostly pallor, they stood alert and focused on him. The one standing before the man raised its head skyward and let loose a haunting bellow, prompting the others to follow suit, raising their heads high in a chorus of bleats and bellows.

Individually, they sounded like animals mournfully yowling, but the chorus of voices sang a beautiful, haunting dirge. The deer that initially began the serenade lowered its head and eyed the lost man. There was something majestic in its noble stance, its mighty antlers branching out upon its head. Snow crunched under each deliberate hoof step as the deer approached.

He was delusional to be seeing this. His body trembled as the creature approached. The pain worsened their distance closed in. His chest heaved forcibly outward more and more, appearing as if his body was inflating. The seams popped one by one under the strain of his body's swelling mass. He struggled to breathe as the all-too tight parka compressed against his chest and suddenly relief came as the heavy coat split down the middle only to reveal a new nightmare. The cause of that insufferable itch was clear as day, illuminated by the ghostly deer. His upper torso was covered in a dense brown fur.

He arched his head backwards, screaming bloody murder as the parka's hoodie ripped asunder. The louder he screamed the more his jaw ached as it felt like his skull was being ripped apart. Two thick shafts of velvet-coated bone erupted with all the fury of Hell. The experience was excruciating on a level child-birth was comparable- and yet that paled by comparison. The longer the antlers grew, the thicker they became at the base and the more compacted the skull became, resistant to allow the boney lengths to escape. The only reason he didn't pass out in the snow that instant was the amount of adrenaline pumping through his veins- adrenaline and the fear hormone, cortisol.

The malformed man's lips darkened, puffed up, and thickened while his jaw squared. His nose flattened, broadening as it merged with his upper lip. Every horrible cry saw his mouth pushing outward. His nose soon followed suit as his face twisted and contorted into a bestial proto-muzzle. The color drained around his mouth to a stark white while the rest of his face gained a light brown hue. Longer and more slender his face twisted as his muzzle lengthened, angular like a buck's.

Facial bone cracked and features further contorted as his eyes drifted further apart. Long, oval ears flopped at the sides of his head, coated brown on the outside, white inside, and tipped with black striping outlining their shapes halfway down. The bone shafts curved and branched into smaller boney lengths as his antlers continued forming. The bridge of his muzzle darkened from the light brown until a black strip existed upon his face.

The luminescent deer snorted at the man, stamping a hoof into the snow. Eyes as black as the cosmos rippled like the water's surface, glittering with stardust flecks of purest white. The creature gazed at the transforming man intently, dipping its head in a gentle nod. The man's ears twitched at the sounds of the chorus' vocals, migrating up the sides of his head. His own mournful, pained yowls added to the orchestra of voices, creating a sublime harmony.

He finally understood. He understood it all: why he was here, why he'd been so frantic to reach the inner forest, who he was, why he felt death's touch... and he refused to accept any of that. It'd all come down to this moment. It'd all come down to this crucial moment. He was a man with a mind and will of his own and that mind choose freedom as his body twisted in a one-eighty. That maddening song made it hard to think. Rational thinking had long since abandoned him as instinct took over. Run. Run! RUN! That voice shouted louder and louder in his pounding head even as he turned away from the illuminated deer. And as he turned to bolt, his right leg gave out from beneath him.

With an inhuman bellow, he fell to his cloven hands and feet. His right leg bucked that boot clear off his foot- or what used to be his foot. Awareness brought the grief of conscious perception over his body's metamorphosis as the changes occurred. He'd become all-too aware of the stretching, merging bone-crunching reconstruction in his feet as the toes fused into keratin formations. Hooves. He had hooves instead of hands or feet. Muscles tensed, threatening to shred the thermal pants from his body. With an indignant snort from his increasingly-bestial snout, he kicked with new-found strength. Power unlike any he'd experienced before enabled him to leap ten feet into the air, leaving a rain of material to fall below as those pants could no longer handle the strain.

The muscle pulsed beneath the swaths of brown fur coating his shaggy legs. Heavy snowfall did not stop his frantic fight or flight response. RUN! RUN ! RUN! His mind shouted. Landing on the fresh snow with a crunch, his body did not stop to get its bearings. More than ever, being like this, being on all fours felt so natural as his over-taxed body reached the lethal extremes of exhaustion. He hadn't come here to die. None of this was real. Everything he'd known was an illusion.

Faster. Faster and deeper into the forest he ran like a beast. The humanity bled from his face completely, replaced with the beast's visage. His shoulders popped out of socket, causing him to stumble in the snow, losing traction as his over-powered legs rocketed him head over heels. His flank collided with the base of a rather large conifer, impairing his ability to move, no less stand. The weight of his cervine body collapsed his legs to the cold ground.

Struggle as he might, his legs wavered as he pushed against the ground. His arms stiffened, losing their human flexibility. The musculature of his arms shifted. The buck's biceps bulked out with corded muscle buried beneath that rich brown fur as agony of agonies struck him back to the ground when his elbows swiveled from the side to the front.

A panting bellow erupted, alerting his presence to anyone or anything. His anguished cries of despair were far from over as his spine cracked, each and every vertebrae from his neck to the base of his spine exploded with a series of distressing cracks followed by searing inflammation. His hindquarters quaked as his entire body seized. Momentary paralysis sent ripples through his realigned spine and the boney extension pierced the tender flesh like a hot knife through butter. He could only watch in horror as his tail took on an elongated, oval shape as the fur and flesh knitted over bone.

His prone body refused to respond. Snow blanketed him His limbs lacked the strength to continue on. The darkness engulfed him once more. The lights were gone. Cold silence was his only companion now. The buck's vision blurred as his head spun. This was the end. The journey had run its course. There was no recourse. He relinquished himself to quiet resignation. A meek yawp was all he could muster. The journey of man lost and confused would end with the lifeless body of an animal buried in snow. His head hung low in solemn surrender.

As the vigor fled his muscles, so did the heat abandon his body. This was it. He could feel his lungs failing. Each breath was shallower than the last. His organs were failing one by one. Synapses misfired. Bodily functions were minimal. What little energy remained was exhausted on consciousness. He could not sustain the strength needed to keep his head held upright. With barely a wheezing breath, his vision faded and the side of his head colliding with the cushioning snow. The buck lay prone, his muzzle quivering as he gasped his final breaths.

His eyes fluttered as they slowly closed, a faint light appearing in his remaining field of vision. The rapture of finality presented itself. Radiant warmth settled over the buck, blinding him with the light's intensity.

The ghostly pallor of the luminous buck was a beacon in the night, both literally and figuratively. The glowing beast gently licked the ailing buck's forehead, offering minor comfort and ease of mind. The pain assaulting his body lessened in severity with every soothing contact from the light.

A soft breath passed the buck's parted muzzle as function returned. His body's warmth was slowly restored itself, staving off the cold. His ears twitched in response to being licked and eyes fluttered open once more. The nurturing act of the luminous beast breathed new life back into his failing body. His entire body jolted, with a start, in the moment the buck's chest moved. His lungs inhaled deeply a blast of cold air that stung as much as it relieved. His forelegs trembled, sensing the vitality returned to his body. Each and every tender nuzzle between caressing licks resulted in the buck's body showing healthier signs of renewed life.

Such renewal brought with it peace of mind, a special kind of tranquility found only by nature's grace. The blanket of snow fell from his insulated hide as his body rose shakily like a fawn taking its first steps of life. He couldn't remember what had been so urgent. He couldn't remember what had brought him here. All he knew was that he was where he belonged. His vigor returned, finding the strength to stand and he finally understood this fate could no longer be avoided as the pallor glow of the ghostly buck led him home.