Arrow Rock Literary Journal

Silence in the woods. 
Slinking through the trees, the grass 
Crinkles underfoot. 

Caged within the woods, 
Their stomach growls and rumbles, 
Family to feed. 

Starving and weary, 
Slight movement catches the eye,  
A singular fawn. 

It peers from the grass, 
Hands convulse, shudder, and shake. 
A shot echoes out. 

… 

Silence in the woods. 
Slinking through the trees, their breath 
Billows out in clouds. 

The Hunter clutches 
Their aching, growling stomach. 
They all must be fed. 

Starving and weary, 
Slight movement catches the eye,  
Twitching two-faced Deer. 

From the grass they watch, 
Staring at the hunter. Still. 
A shot echoes out. 

… 

Silence in the woods. 
The Hunter crawls through the trees. 
They ache with hunger. 

Caged within the woods, 
It morphs and changes until 
It peers from the grass. 

The Hunter clutches 
Their starving stomach and gun,  
Desperate, so desperate. 

Changing it’s faces, 
Wife, Daughter; the Deer, the Fawn. 
A shot echoes out. 

… 
Silence in the woods. 
Slinking through the trees, the grass 
Crinkles underneath. 

Caged within the woods, 
Their stomach growls and rumbles, 
Dragging it along. 

Starving and weary, 
The cabin door is opened, 
And it’s tossed inside. 

Another carcass 
Of rotting bile and leather 
Flesh falling off bone. 

For in the cabin, 
Stretching to the ceiling. 
It joins the corpses piled high, 

Each in a different 
Stage of decomposition, 
Long forgotten here. 

The stench of decay 
Permeates the old and grey 
Run-down putrid wood. 

The cabin is still, 
But for the wing-beat of flies, 
Maggots wriggle, writhe. 

The animals of  
The forest were gathered Here 
Waiting, just waiting, 

With glassy sunken 
Eyes dropping from their sockets, 
Meat torn from the bone. 

Rotting flesh and tongues 
Lolling out from moldy maws 
Stripped down to the bone. 

As the Hunter breathes, 
Cold clouds; the carrion shifts, 
All tumbling down. 

There, at the bottom 
Of the foul forested grave, 
Two decaying husks. 

Grey bones and sinew, 
Reduced to bile and leather, 
Dusty hairs and ash. 

The Hunter subsists 
Feeding off beloved kin,  
Necrose Fawn and Deer. 

They shut the door tight 
And clutch their rumbling stomach, 
Never to be fed.

---

Logan Hentschel is a transfer student at Lindenwood University, currently Majoring in Game Design with a Minor in Computer Science and a Certificate in Graphic Design. He has published several works in the Saint Louis Community College: Wildwood and Forest Park Campus literary journals “Sycamore” and “The Forest”. He has also exhibited artwork in the STLCC Forest Park and Meramec art shows, winning an Honorable Mention award in the latter. As a passionate creative writer and artist for a multitude of mediums, Logan balances his coursework with creating expansive worlds and evocative art; and enjoys the same within animation and video games