No sound escaped my lips. Not a scream. Not a word. Not even a whimper. I simply sat there, allowing the snow to soak through the layers of clothing. Time was frozen, my eyes never leaving the blood. In the distance, an owl hooted, breaking the silence of the oncoming night.

The buck laid a few inches away from me. I watched as the blood stained the crystalized ground, blending with the humans. My breath shook as the temperature started to drop below freezing. With numb fingertips and toes, the chill was overtaking everything. My nose was completely stopped up, making it difficult to breathe. Even my cheeks felt burned from the breeze that continued to blow.

Feeling stiff, my fingers curled around the staff of the bow at my side. Although it wasn't smart and could damage the bow, I planted it upright and used it as a stick to pull myself from the ground. Every muscle in my body ached at the movement. I leaned on the bow as it pressed into the ground, giving myself a moment to come back to reality.

Taking a step into the deep snow, I leaned forward to confirm my fears. Only the hand was revealed as the old blood turned black against the ground. The fingertips were curled, as though the body reached for my bow. The bear must have disturbed the corpse's rest, searching for her latest meal.

My instincts told me to run, to call the police. But my mind no longer functioned, and my body went into autopilot. Instead, I picked up the bow and started walking. Not to the tree stand but to the ATV that was parked close to the cabin. The pins and needles stabbing at my feet burned as I walked through the slush. It was nearly unbearable as I approached the vehicle.

Lifting the bow, I attached it to the mount. Once I was positive it was secure, I climbed onto the four-wheeler and started the engine. It whined under the cold air, not wanting to rev itself to life, but my thumb pressed on the gas to force the engine on. The vibration between my legs and roar from the engine brought me back to reality. I was reminded of what was out there and what would soon be coming.

Coyotes.

It wouldn't be long until their noses smelled the fresh scent of blood from my kill. With the snow so thick and the temperature falling into the single digits, their need for food would grow. That was one of the reasons my bow was hooked to the front, and not left by the cabin. Should one appear, I would need it.

By the time I pulled up to the bodies by the oak, the feeling had returned to my legs and feet. My fingers released the handles, the pins poking at every nerve as the blood slowly returned to each of them. Ignoring the pain, I switched the headlights to bright before jumping off. The buck was right where I left him. And so was the hand. 

Although the buck had a decent amount of points on his antlers, he was by no means huge. Needing more light, I reached up to the brim of my hat and switched the small lamp on. He was still too big to carry on my own. 

As I stood, I could see the hand in the corner of my eye, sticking out of the snow. The headlights from the ATV gave it a haunting shadow that made a shiver run up my spine. Wiping my nose with my arm, I shook my head as I walked around to the rear of the dead buck.

Using a pocketknife, I pressed the tip in between the shin and calf bones and cut two long slits. As I pulled my gloves off and stuffed them into my pockets, the freezing air sliced as though a knife was caressing each appendage. Bending down, two fingers slid through the open skin, allowing me to haul the buck closer to the vehicle.

Purring beside me, the ATV waited while I hoisted the rear of the buck onto it. He hung there as I leaned over to tie the legs onto the back brace. Blood stained my clothes as I leaned over the wound where my arrow had pierced through. Pushing off the animal's stomach, I took a step back before bending down to lift his front end onto the vehicle, careful not to disturb the antlers. They were in decent condition and I wanted them.

It wasn't long before he was completely tied down and my gaze returned to the hand. Trembling under my heavy clothes, I pulled a small flashlight from my pack and started forward. Carefully, I stepped into the hole the bear had dug and leaned down. 

The hand looked preserved from the cold. The skin was a pale blue, almost blending into the snow completely. If it hadn't been for the dried blood, it could have stayed hidden until the spring. That is, if the animals didn't get to it first.

Sighing, I reached into the pocket within my heavy coat, pulling out my phone. The screen illuminated my face as I dialed.

The disembodied voice echoed, "911, what's your emergency?"

The phone trembled beneath my hands as I answered, "I'd like to report a body."

"Can I get your name, ma'am?"

The smart thing to do would have been to answer each question as honestly as possible. That would have been the smart thing. But instead, my mouth spoke before my mind could catch up. I heard as I gave her my location. Before she could ask for my name again, I ended the call.

Without another glance back, I climbed onto the ATV. Roaring, I reversed before throwing it into drive. With reckless speed, I returned to the shed behind the warmly lit cabin that had been my home for the last ten years. Slowing down, I parked beside my old blue Ford truck. The age was beginning to show in the paint, giving me the urge to nickname it Old Blue.

Switching the ATV off, I swung my leg around before jumping down. My knees nearly buckling when I landed. The brace holding the bow caught me as I reached to regain my balance. The cool metal barely registered in my grip, my hands close to frostbite.

Before I left for the hunt, I had already prepped Old Blue with the deer hoist, saving me time now. Slowly, my numb fingers untied the knots from the rope that held the buck down. Only when he was free did I pull the hoist, pushing the edges in through the slits I had created in his hind legs. Stretching as far as my arm could go, I reached for the lever to hoist him into the air.

The sound of the crank echoed through the forest as he rose. My other hand carefully handled his antlers, freeing them whenever they became stuck on the brace. Only when he was dangling upside down completely did I hold my hands to my face and blow. My hot breath heated the palms but barely touched each fingertip.

The light from the shed shadowed the buck as he hung in the air, dripping blood onto the frozen ground. Leaving him, I entered the small shed and collected what I needed: blue latex gloves, my knife set, and two large containers. I threw everything into the containers before kicking them out the door and back to Old Blue.

As I breathed in the night, another owl hooted in the distance. Slipping the latex gloves on, I pulled everything out of the containers before separating them: one to sit beneath the dangling body, the other next to my feet, ready for the meat. Gut knife in hand, I sliced at the skin of the hind legs, careful not to cut the muscle.

Blood began to move with gravity and drip into the bucket beneath my feet, staining the deer's coat as it dripped. Within minutes, the skin from the legs and hindquarter had been carefully peeled away and tugged down. There was plenty of fat along the muscle, explaining his weight despite not appearing large.

The stench from the open gut began to linger in my nose, clearing up my sinuses almost completely. It smelled of blood and decay. But it was familiar, which led to a sense of calm that washed over me. I worked meticulously at the rest of the skin, tugging it down until the rib cage was exposed. Fur hung in the air, sticking to everything.

Carefully, my hands shifted the bladder and stomach, allowing it to rest on the front of the rib cage, and out of my way. The effort of the skinning helped the heat return to my body. Taking a step back, I pulled my gloves off before slipping my heavy winter coat off. The owl in the distance hooted as I drew the sleeves of my shirt up.

Once my gloves were back on, I prepped another set on the side with a roll of blue paper towels that were in the back of the truck. Without hesitation, I reached for the gut knife and extended my arms into his chest. Deep in the pool of blood, I felt around for the heart.

The blood reached to my elbow, making the gloves pretty much useless. After a moment of searching, I felt the large lump in my hand. With my head leaning back, I carefully cut around the heart, cutting away the valves until it was completely detached. Heart in hand, I backed away from the deer, letting the blood drip from my arms onto the ground.

I tossed the heart into the metal container next to the truck before taking the paper towels to wipe away the blood.

"Shit," I murmured.

The one thing I had forgotten was a trash bag. Tossing the damp towels and gloves into the bloody bucket, I walked to the side Old Blue, opening the back door. Underneath the passenger seat was a box of large plastic bags. Pulling one out, I shook it open before walking back to my kill.

Once the bag was propped onto the side of the truck, I tossed the trash away before reaching for the new pair of gloves. As I stepped closer to the deer, I leaned forward to carefully cut away at the meat. With each knife stroke, the meat of the hindquarters gave way into my waiting hand. Each piece came off cleanly, leaving very little behind.

Halfway through carving the legs, my fingers felt the sensation of pins and needles again. Without my coat, my body was practically exposed to the cool winter air. Only my legs and feet were really protected from the icy breeze.

My hands began to tremble under the weight of the cold making it difficult to slice away the meat of the legs. The gut knife suddenly slipped through my fingers, dropping into the chest cavity. Blood splashed upward, a little landing on my nose.

"God damn it," I whispered, staring into the chest cavity where my knife fell.

Sighing, I lifted my arm to wipe the blood off my nose. I pulled out another set of gloves and prepped the towels again before sinking my hand into the ruby pool once more. Blindly, I searched for the knife. Twice I thought I had grabbed it when really it turned out to be a rib.

In the corner of my eye, blue and red lights flashed. Without moving my arm, I turned slightly to see one police car pulling into my driveway, headlights illuminating my thin frame. The car sat there for a moment, lights continually flashing. Finally, two doors slammed shut, indicating movement.

"Ma'am, are you the one who called about a body?" a voice echoed.

Blinking at the bright light, I couldn't see the source of the voice. "I can't see with that damn light in my face."

"Ah," the voice murmured before the lights suddenly shut off.

As my eyes adjusted, two men in black uniforms and heavy jackets approached me. Their stance was friendly but cautious as they took in the buck and my hand in its chest. Again, one of them asked, "Are you the one who called about a body?"

Slowly, I nodded. "Yes. It is in the forest, near the field clearing."

"Would you show us?" the other policeman asked.

They were young, maybe in their early twenties—possibly only two years on the force. I wondered if this was their first big case: a mysterious body found in the snow. If so, I was curious if they would be able to handle it.

My finger pressed the tip of the knife before I could answer. Grabbing hold, I pulled the knife out of the pool of blood before taking a step back to reach for the paper towels. I cleaned the blade first before taking off my gloves to wipe away the red stains on my arm.

"Let me finish here," I said. "And then I'll take you there."