They weren’t afraid. That was the first thing I noticed.
Two deer stepped from the woods as I was tossing hay. They didn’t bolt—just stood there, watching me. The larger one stayed back, cautious. But the smaller one stared right into me. Like it knew something.
I laughed nervously and snapped a photo. “Got some unexpected visitors,” I posted. Harmless enough.
Then it walked up to the fence and dropped something at my feet—a bundle wrapped in dark fabric. Deliberate. Human. Inside was a small wooden box, old and worn. Inside that, a tarnished silver locket, carved with strange symbols that made my skin crawl.
When I looked up, the deer was turning back toward the woods, pausing like it wanted me to follow. So I did.
It led me to a clearing I’d never seen. An enormous oak stood at the center, its branches black against the sky. The deer stood beneath it—and then vanished.
At the base of the tree, the ground had been freshly disturbed. I dug and uncovered a stone tablet, marked with the same symbols. Beneath it, a sealed parchment.
“For the one who is chosen,” it read. “The truth is not safe… but this is only the beginning.”
That night, I couldn’t sleep. Something ancient had found me. And I couldn’t shake the feeling someone was watching.
The next morning, I uncovered local legends of a secret order guarding something called The Veil. The locket? A key.
And now I’m in too deep to walk away.