Not Everything in the Woods Is Random

They weren’t afraid. That was the first thing I noticed.
Two deer stepped out of the woods while I was tossing hay. The smaller one stared straight at me, unblinking—like it knew something.

It walked up to the fence and dropped a bundle at my feet: dark fabric wrapped around a small wooden box. Inside was a silver locket, tarnished and carved with strange symbols that made my skin prickle. When I looked up, the deer was already backing toward the trees, waiting.

I followed.

The forest grew unnaturally silent until I reached a clearing I’d never seen before. In the center stood a twisted black oak. Beneath it, freshly turned soil hid a stone tablet etched with the same markings. Beneath that—a sealed parchment.

“For the one who is chosen,” it read. “The truth is not safe. The truth is not gentle. Follow the signs. This is only the beginning.”

That night I couldn’t sleep. The locket felt heavy in my pocket, as if it were breathing.

In the morning, I searched old archives. Buried in local folklore was a story about The Veil, an ancient order sworn to guard a dangerous secret. Their mark matched the symbols. Their messengers—the deer.

Now I know this wasn’t chance. I was chosen.
By whom, and for what—I still don’t know.

But someone does.

And they’re watching.

Because sometimes, it’s not the woods that haunt you—
it’s the fact that something in them has already found you.