1 A Deer in the Headlights

It is hard to love someone who scares you shitless. Don't get me wrong, sometimes it's rewarding, but other times it's terrifying. Is the glint in his eyes love or demonic hunger? Is that a playful or a mocking grin I see?

I wish he had kept driving when we saw that corpse on the side of the road, but when Oliver Villin feels the slightest tickle of curiosity, no force can speak sense into him, certainly not his repulsed, horrified girlfriend. Note to self: perhaps that's why women live longer than men.

"Avian, look over there," Oliver had said, pointing to a large heap of smooth, light brown fur on the ground. He pressed the brake pedal, slowing the vehicle.

I squinted. "A dead deer. Fascinating," I replied sarcastically. "Why are you slowing down? It's nowhere near the road, you're not going to run it over. Unless you want to, of course."

Oliver smirked. "Just want a closer look. I wanna see if it got hit or shot."

Odd thing to wonder about a dead animal you're driving by, but then again, Oliver didn't have a reputation for being average. There were times when I wondered where his head was half the time. He thinks of things that would never occur to any sane person. "Does it really matter?" I asked "I would enjoy it if we could get home at some point today."

Oliver rolled his eyes impatiently. "Shut up," he said. "You'll get home. You always do."

"Not if you stop to examine every piece of roadkill we cross," I snapped. Oliver didn't listen. How shocking.

He got out of the car, leaving me in the passenger seat to stare into the abyss of the dashboard. Arms crossed and lips pressed into a thin line, I waited for ten minutes before my patience ran thin.

I opened my door, stepping out of the car. When I slammed it shut defiantly, I had expected Oliver to make a smart remark about the maintenance and care of his vehicle, and that includes not slamming doors. However, Oliver paid no attention to me, and as I faced him, my stomach churned as I understood why. "What in the fuck are you doing?" I asked, shocked.

Oliver met my eyes, a wide grin on his face. In his hands he held a long twig, which he was using to dig into a large gash in the animal's abdomen. He twisted the stick back and forth, watching the insides of the unmoving deer spill onto the grass, dyeing it a deep maroon. He poked at the guts, satisfied with the tearing and fresh blood of the corpse. "I wanted to see what was inside," he said calmly, as if dissecting a creature on the roadside was a mundane hobby.

I was at a loss of words. I was utterly repulsed, and amazed at the audacity of the man I was with. What the hell is wrong with his head?

After staring at the gruesome scene for far too long, I just wanted to go home. We used to go straight home- no stops needed. That was, until this damned creature appeared. Fuck you, innocent animal, for dying right there. Couldn't you have died further into the woods?

Oliver was still twirling the bloody innards like spaghetti noodles. My stomach was sick. I just want to go home. "Can we leave now?" I asked, my voice shaking inevitably.

"Can you just wait?" He asked, annoyed. "You'll get home. You always do." But that day, we didn't make it home.

Before I had the chance to say another word, a loud horn was blaring all around us. I looked up, coming face-to-face with the front bumper of a large truck. In the short second I had to react, my eyes widened, and suddenly I was thrown into the woods, soaring over the dead animal.

My head slammed into the trunk of a tree, and I was awake long enough to hear my neck snap.

Oliver, who had been crouched down, was crushed by one of the wheels, breaking nearly every bone, his blood and flesh mixing with that of the deer's.