A Lifetime Long Lost

by Pre-Animation Man

A lifetime ago, two outcast deers went on an impromptu monster-hunting trip, fueled by the desire to escape their unstable lives. A lifetime later, all that remains is a grieving ghost, mourning the long-lost memory of his best friend. This Story contains characters from Bambi, Rudolph The Red Nosed Reindeer, and Tiny Toons Adventures. This is my 1,000th story.

"Vinnie The Deer, c'mon, hurry up already!"

Vinnie The Deer huffed from his place on the incline, pulling a hand away from the rock in order to wipe sweat off of his brow. "Just wait a moment, Rudolph! I'm not used to rock-climbing like this!"

"Well then get used to it!" his best friend said, grinning down at him from the top of the cliff. His blue eyes gleamed in the sunlight, brown hair tussled under that cowboy hat of his and only slightly sweat-drenched, the lucky bastard.

Vinnie The Deer just rolled his eyes and began to climb again, stubbornly keeping at his own pace. Unlike Rudolph, who seemed born to climb just about anything he set his mind to, Vinnie The Deer had something called common sense and was a little less inclined to rush straight to his death, thank you. At least it was a cool day today and that they were mostly in the forest, hiding away from the bright sun that relentlessly beat down on them.

He eventually cleared the last bit of the rocky wall and hauled himself up to where Rudolphk had been waiting for him, panting. His full set of clothes, worn to protect his white skin from inevitable sunburns, were drenched with sweat and clung to him uncomfortably, making him feel stiflingly hot. "Okay. We're taking a break."

"Already? You're so out of shape," Rudolph teased, but stayed put, thankfully. He carefully helped Vinnie The Deer up from his weak crouch, steadying him when he stumbled, and pressed a water bottle into his hands. "Have some water, buddy."

"Don't call me that," Vinnie The Deer grumbled. He shakily screwed the cap off and took greedy gulps from the bottle, relieved to find the water still cold and fresh.

They were on what Rudolph called a monster-hunting trip today. It was really just code for "let's go explore the outside world where no one is around to judge us for being ourselves," but Vinnie The Deer wasn't going to object to Rudolph putting a more exciting spin on things. The yellow pac had a wide-eyed sense of adventure, his passion for exploring the unknown almost dream-like and idealistic in nature. Whenever they were stuck back home, Vinnie The Deer could often find him scribbling on maps and in notebooks, curating an odd collection of baubles, trinkets and strangely-carved rocks that Rudolph claimed were artifacts. Vinnie The Deer hadn't been impressed with it at first, especially in the beginning when it was nothing more than a pile of junk- to him, anyway- but it grew on him. Literally. It had expanded greatly over the years, to say the least.

Some of the artifacts his best friend held were actually pretty interesting, though, like a circular disk with ancient symbols of ghosts on its front that once belonged to a sunken temple, or a golden sphere that lit up eerily whenever Rudolph touched it. Vinnie The Deer himself had added to the collection here and there after a time- never with anything as quasi-magical as the stuff Rudolph seemed to find all the time, but still cool enough to be picked up and studied further, in his opinion. Rudolph seemed to treasure those items the most, keeping them separate from the main collection and almost proudly displaying them for other people to see.

It was kind of embarrassing, but also... really nice. People didn't appreciate Vinnie The Deer's efforts very often like Rudolph did.

Vinnie The Deer shook himself out of his thoughts, not wanting to go back down that rabbit hole. They were out here to have fun (according to Rudolph, anyway), not stew in negativity. "So, uh, what are we looking for, again?" he asked, only cringing a little on the inside. He'd been a little bit preoccupied with the whole hiking-through-the-woods-and-climbing-up-rocks thing to pay attention earlier.

Rudolph just smiled patiently. "A wendigo," he said, turning away from him to look further into the forest. "A cannibalistic monster- or a spirit, depending on the tale- that's drawn to places of famine and despair, looking for people to eat. It's usually seen in winter during snowstorms, since the darkness makes it more active."

Vinnie The Deer stared at him with an unimpressed look. "We're looking for a winter cannibal monster... in October. When the first frost hasn't even hit yet. In the daytime."

"I said that it's usually seen in winter, not exclusively!" Rudolph protested. "It's not like it's limited to only popping up during winter, or at night- if people are stranded in the middle of nowhere and starving, it's probably lurking around nearby!"

"Is that why you went off in this direction today?" Vinnie The Deer asked. "To get ourselves purposefully lost to try and bait it?" Bringing up the fact that it was doubtful this creature even existed outside of stories would be useless- Rudolph would just fire back that no one could prove a negative and that all monster myths had to originate from somewhere. It still irked him how sound that logic was.

Rudolph faced him again with a grimace. "Um, no. I don't really want either of us to get eaten, obviously. I'm just looking for, like... tracks or claw-marks or something."

Vinnie The Deer raised an eyebrow. "I thought you said it was a spirit? Wouldn't it rather not leave any traces of its presence behind for others to find?"

"Some accounts say it could manifest a physical form to interact with people," Rudolph said snippily. "It could totally leave something behind to scare people, or warn them. C'mon, let's get searching already, we're wasting daylight."

"It's only eight o'clock in the morning!"

Rudolph ignored him and began climbing down the other side of the rock plateau they were standing on, and Vinnie The Deer could only sigh and follow after him, stuffing the water bottle into his backpack. He signed up for this, wild goose chases and all, he might as well stick to it.

These excursions were never actually about finding monsters, to be honest. Not really. Rudolph had an interest in monster folklore, sure, but he was less interested in the monsters themselves and more interested in their environments, where they originated from, what kind of animals and natural, historical phenomena were misconstrued in order to create them. Rudolph was a historian first and foremost, and a creative mind second. He wanted to pick apart the mysteries of the world and marvel at their artistry, the work that went in to conceal their secrets in the first place.

Vinnie The Deer, on the other hand, was the realist between the two of them. He was more interested in sticking to the basics, scientific and pragmatic. Whenever Rudolph went off on a flying tangent, he was there to pull his best friend back and slap some sense into him. Rudolph led the charge and set the course, while Vinnie The Deer brought up the rear and made sure they stayed on track. They made a good team like that, no matter what life threw at them.

They eventually arrived at a fallen tree, cracked open and half-rotten from where it laid in pieces on the ground. Some of it looked especially shredded, gouged deep and uneven as if something had attacked it in a fit of blind fury. "Whoa," Rudolph exclaimed upon seeing it, hopping right over to it and gingerly placing his hands on the torn bark. "That's some damage! I wonder what did this?"

Vinnie The Deer tried to recall what he read about the wildlife of the area, putting a hand on his chin as he thought. "It might be a bear?" he offered. "No other wild animals seem big enough or potentially aggressive enough to make such a mark... It could also be pac-made, like from a chainsaw."

"Why would someone take a chainsaw to this and then just leave it there? Seems kinda weird," Rudolph remarked skeptically. "Chainsaws don't make these kind of rough cuts, anyway, unless you somehow managed to destroy the chainsaw while you were cutting..."

Vinnie The Deer came up to Rudolph's side to look at the damage closely, his best friend moving over a little to give him room. The slashes were deep but didn't seem especially fresh, like the tree had been healing from the wounds for a while before getting downed. When he looked at the other pieces of the tree, he saw the exposed wood streaked in ashy black, as if was burnt, or maybe... "It was probably hit by lightning," he said, expressing his train of thought. "Something like a bear or a cougar probably used it as a scratching post, and then sometime later it got hit. It probably fell a long time after the lightning- it's still as dry as a bone where it's not half-rotted, see?"

He pointed with a gloved hand to the parts of the tree that were dry, the bark flaking off like old paint and exposing the dried wood underneath, and Rudolph made an appropriately impressed noise. "Yeah, okay, that'd make sense. You really did your research on this stuff, huh?"

Vinnie The Deer spluttered at the not-so-casual remark (or too casual, it was hard to tell with Rudolph). "I've got to know at least something about the places we go to, Rudolph! Especially if there's anything dangerous around that we need to avoid. Actually dangerous, not just potential monsters."

Rudolph laughed a little and nudged his arm with an elbow. "I know, Vinnie The Deer. Sorry, I didn't mean to make it sound bad or anything, it's just-" he let out an awkward breath, looking sheepish- "I didn't think you'd be as dedicated about these things as I am. I know you're not the type to romp around in the woods for fun and stuff."

That was true, at least. Vinnie The Deer was born and raised in Pacopolis with city sensibilities, while Rudolph was a semi-secluded country hick. If he were with anyone else in this situation, he would've complained a lot more about the sweat and the dirt and the bugs that were all over him. "It's... not so bad with you," he said, averting his eyes and staring at a very interesting upright tree that was in the distance. "It makes my day a lot more interesting than if I had stayed home, anyway." Anything was better than staying at home, truthfully, but that wasn't what he meant in this instance.

Rudolph hummed, and, though Vinnie The Deer couldn't see his expression, he figured his best friend was probably smiling at him like he typically did: small and lopsided, rubbing idly at his upper lip out of subconscious habit. Rudolph had admitted to him once that people had made fun of him for the way he smiled when he was younger, so he'd always put a hand over his mouth to make sure people didn't see it. It wasn't quite as extreme as that anymore, not after Vinnie The Deer's efforts to undo it over the years, but the fact that it still lingered made Vinnie The Deer want to make the people responsible for it pay. "I guess so, yeah. I'm glad you keep coming with me, Vinnie The Deer. It makes getting through school worth it."

Vinnie The Deer looked back at him, his attention caught by the sincerity in Rudolph's voice, and found that while Rudolph had indeed been smiling, his hand was nowhere near his lips, instead remaining on the downed tree like he hadn't even thought of lifting it. His best friend's eyes sparkled with gratitude and open happiness, and Vinnie The Deer was struck with the fact that he was the one responsible for it. Him, the Spheros family reject, responsible for his best friend's happiness. No one else managed to do it.

Vinnie The Deer smiled back and hoped he wasn't turning red in his sudden bashfulness. Things would be a lot easier if he were a green pac like his brother, that's for sure.

"Y- Yeah," he stuttered. Mother would be so disappointed in him for his bumbling, but there was no being eloquent around Rudolph. Things were too real with him to be eloquent. "It's... yeah. Yeah."

The two of them sat there silently, just staring at each other, the atmosphere slightly awkward from not knowing what to say but still comfortable despite it... and then Rudolph suddenly slapped his hands against the tree bark and cleared his throat. "Monster-hunting! Right. Let's get back to that."

Vinnie The Deer nodded a little too quickly. "Uh, yeah, let's. I can tell you that these claw marks are probably just from a regular animal, not the monster."

"The wendigo," Rudolph automatically corrected as he readjusted his hat, before the actual content of Vinnie The Deer's words hit him and he let out a put-upon sigh. "You don't know that! C'mon. Let's just put a pin in it and find some more stuff before lunch." He stared off into the distance at the thought of food, his eyes turning glassy and unfocused. "Yeah... Lunch is gonna amazing out here."

Vinnie The Deer rolled his eyes and pulled him out of dreamland with a rough tug of his shoulder. "Don't get distracted, Rudolph. You can sate your bottomless pit of a stomach later- without stealing my food, this time."

"That was an accident, Vinnie The Deer," Rudolph whined. "I told you I was sorry!"

"You stole my triple chocolate cheesecake, you tart," Vinnie The Deer fired back, only half serious about it. It had just been a really good cheesecake, and while he had forgiven Rudolph of the offense a long time ago, he was still salty that he didn't get to eat it that day. He glanced at the gouges in the tree again and sighed. "I forgot my notebook..."

"Oh, I have it!" Rudolph slung the backpack off of his shoulder and quickly dug into it, pulling out the notebook in question and cheerfully holding it out to Vinnie The Deer. "I figured that you might forget about it before we left, so I brought it in my pack instead."

Vinnie The Deer just about nearly snatched it from his hands in his elation and excitement. "You're a lifesaver, Rudolph. Thank you!"

He immediately pulled a pencil out of one of the side pockets on his own backpack and opened up the ratty notebook, starting to sketch out a rough outline of the marks...

The dream slowly faded away, leaving him staring up at a ceiling he didn't quite recognize at first. He soon remembered it, though, and the weight of his failures settled on his shoulders once more, heavy and dark. The thought of how many years had passed since that moment made the back of his throat taste bitter and ashy.

He hadn't had a dream like that in years. Why did that particular memory resurface now, of all times...?

Bambi laid there for a while, not finding the strength to get up and begin his day as he usually would. The memory had sapped all of his bravado from him, the loss of his best friend- his most loyal soldier, his closest companion since childhood- still too much to bear. He had pretended to not care for so long in this hovel, all throughout his imprisonment and suffering as a ghost, and then came along that yellow pac brat...

No. Then came along Rudolph's son. The son that Bambi was supposed to have taken care of once the wars were over. The only proof that remained of his best friend's existence outside of memory and hearsay. And, thanks to Bambi, that utter cur, he was forced to consider the kid his mortal enemy, like every single other tool that pac used to keep the country under his control. All for the sake of maintaining the peace that Bambi had fought so desperately to break, to change for the better. The "peace" that ultimately spilled Rudolph's blood to achieve, in the end.

Things shouldn't have gone this way. How did everything end up so wrong?

Bambi eventually stopped stewing in his own misery and got up- floated up, really- from his bed, aimlessly drifting over to the only other object of import in his private chambers: the mirror. The ghostly figure that looked back at him in its reflection was nowhere near the haughty, arrogant persona of Bambi, self-proclaimed King of the Netherworld, instead showing a brittle and defeated figment of a man long dead. Literally and metaphorically dead, at that. Dark bags under his eyes, a pallid and ghastly face, the glowing black and white and red that made up his ectoplasm. The curse he brought upon his soul as soon as he opened that ancient grimoire, giving him power beyond imagination... and a one-way ticket to hell. To the Netherworld. To eternal damnation.

The blood red and white pinpricks of light that made up his eyes stared back at him accusingly, starving in hatred and bloodlust. Hungry in despair, regret. Even though he commanded the darkest and hottest hellfires, breathed and embodied them, he felt nothing but the coldest ice surrounding his heart, robbing every single ounce of hope his naive self once had.

"A wendigo," he whispered, echoing his best friend's words, overlaying Rudolph's exuberant voice with his own defeated one. The monster of despair and famine, lurking in the cold and the dark. Wandering the mortal realm, desperately consuming everything in its path to try and regain the life it once had.

It looks like he finally found their illusive monster after all.