Every month, when the moon is luminous and full, they gather around the campfire and give thanks to their Antler Queen. She blesses them with good-hunting and carries them through the cold months. She is their saint. Their leader who accepts their sacrifices. When their bellies are empty and their cheeks hollowed from starvation, they see her like a God that blesses them with higher-purpose.
"Jackie is the flesh that blessed us through winter," Lottie's voice echoes through the clearing. She kneels next to the alter with her palm eagerly out-stretched. It is an offering, and Shauna begins to drag the blade across her skin. Her cut is meticulous and blood begins to drip onto the tree stump chosen as their sacred ground. On this alter, there lays a pile of human bones smeared with the crimson mess.
Drip, drip, drip.
"We give thanks to her," Shauna, wide-eyed and starving, looks at the kneeling brunette. The knife in her hands is gripped harshly, and she cannot resist the temptation of bringing it toward her lips. The taste is metallic as it runs across her tongue, and she hungrily swallows. Every dribble of blood on the blade is wiped clean like a Vulture picking at remains. Lottie's blood runs through her, just like Jackie's flesh moons ago, and it is these offerings that keep her alive. With newfound energy, she digs the knife into her own palm until her flesh is exposed.
Lottie stares at her, expectantly, as Shauna's palm is brought to her lips. She drinks, not greedily, but gracefully, until Shauna pulls away and squeezes her hand over the alter.
"She guides us through the darkness," Van whispers. They take a deep breath, their scarred face determinedly staring down at their own palm. Tai steps closer to them, holding their hand softly in her grasp as she trails the blade into their soft skin. Both of them take turns drinking each other's blood- a ritual that binds them and the Wilderness. Everything and everyone is connected.
"Without her, we would be lost," Nat says.
Drip, drip, drip,
"She is our saint," Travis closes his eyes. "Our Antler Queen."
"Our Antler Queen." The group echoes.
Drip, drip, drip.
"And now," Misty's lips are soaked with blood. "We let her choose."
As each Yellowjacket offers their blood and flesh to the Antler Queen, the flames of the campfire crackle in the background. It lights up the clearing and shadows dance on the forest floor. They twirl and prance in between the tree as if they are alive. The fire erupts into a burst of energy, nearly screaming with the flicker of flames, and the heat is what brings Jackie alive.
"Jackie," Shauna breathes like it is a prayer. She kneels next to Lottie, pressing her hands together and letting her praise spill from her lips. "Jackie, Jackie, Jackie-"
Jackie stares at her, but says nothing. Not at first. Her skin is charred around the edges, but her lips are still frost-bitten and a pale blue like the sky. It's not being a butcher that makes Shauna special in these woods, no. It's being able to listen to what her best friend is saying. No one else has been blessed with that gift. Even in Death, they are intertwined.
Jackie is the Antler Queen, and Shauna is her loyal dog that abides by her command.
(It was only when everyone else started seeing Jackie that Shauna began to accept the Wilderness for what it was).
"What is she saying?" Lottie urgently asks, gripping Shauna's forearm.
Jackie's lips part, and heat flushes throughout Shauna's body. Her fingers prick at the heart pendant adorned around her neck, patiently waiting for her to say something.
When she speaks, it is only one word. But it is enough.
"Mari," Jackie commands.
Shauna rises to her feet, standing next to the hallucination of Jackie. With her bloody palm, she raises Jackie's arm into the sky as if they are united. They hold hands, turning toward their followers with purpose.
(In reality, she is holding the humerus of Jackie as if it is a beacon guiding them home. But this is their home now. No, they could never return the same).
"The Wilderness has chosen Mari," Shauna declares. "We thank her for her sacrifice."
"We thank Mari for her sacrifice and Jackie for bringing her home." The group says in unison.
Mari passes through the crowd of Yellowjackets and kneels in front of Shauna. She is alive, but too far gone. Not the same Mari that was supposed to go to Nationals. Her eyes are glazed with hunger and loyalty. "Thank you Jackie for giving me purpose," Mari tilts her chin into the air. She accepts the necklace wrapped around her neck as she closes her eyes, eagerly waiting for the blade to pierce her skin. "I give my flesh as an offering, and thank the Wilderness for recognizing my loyalty."
"Thank you, Mari."
Drip, drip, drip.
Later that night, they sit at their candlelit table and feast on the flesh of their teammate. Jackie sits, crowned with antlers, at the head of the table and calmly watches as her group devours every scrap of meat given to them. They are just skin and bones at the command of their leader.
She used to be their Captain.
Now she serves as their manifestations.
You know there's no "it", right? It was just us.
Is there a difference?