the king Phillips deer
A taxidermy customization project turns into the invention of a new piece of folklore, perhaps even a new cryptid?
During the peak of American exploration, King Philip II became infatuated with the discovery of new species. As he funded the mapping of the east coast, requests would be sent to the new land for specific beasts. They were to be captured and kept alive if at all possible while voyaging back to Spain.
Above all else, King Phillip wanted his very own White Tailed Deer. Of course, it had no such name at the time, and was not dissimilar from the red deer that roamed his own country. It seemed to Philip that they were the true forest king. Having one of these “new world deer” strutting proudly in his courtyard would prove to his constituents that his voyages were fruitful, and give him a sense of unyielding pride.
Despite all odds, the men aboard the San Armando managed to track down a powerful buck somewhere in the far south of what would later be Georgia. The first mate slowly managed to corner the creature between himself, his companions, and an outcropping of boulders. The buck lashed, it stomped, it did not go without a fight. Two men were lost to vicious goring to the stomach, the deer’s antlers seeming to be made of a blade. But payment is payment, no matter who falls, and they somehow manage to throw netting and ropes around the beast until it toppled to the ground.
The voyage home became uncertain when, after three days at sea, a sudden storm came about, catching the crew off guard. The men watching over the deer abandoned their post to assist. It is said that, as these two men clambered up to the deck, a horrible crack was heard from below. Whether this sound was a fatal lightning strike, or the incredible power of what they thought was a captured animal, the ship sank quickly. Very few men were rescued by the remainder of the flotilla, and those who were spoke of horrible, impossible things.
As they writhed in the sea, pieces of the boat began to fall away, crashing into swimmers. Some sailors simply went still as they hit the water, shocked to the core and sinking quickly. One of those men happened to see a tan shape against the frothing blue- a deer. It was sinking faster than himself, yet it remained stock still, looking straight ahead. The sailor begins to kick, suddenly aware of his need for rescue. As he did, the deer began to walk. Not on the floor of the sea, which was far out of sight, but as the beast plummeted into the deep. One foot at a time, carefully stomping along. Oddly, it seemed to work. He moved forward, dipping from sight as hands grasped the sailor towards the surface.
This man, along with two other survivors of the San Armando shipwreck claim to have seen the same exact thing. All three refused to sail back to the new world, afraid of what punishment may come. All three of these seasoned seamen were adamant in the belief that their next voyage would be their last.
Perhaps they are right to fear something out there. A king of the forest trods along the ocean floor, ripped away from his land by strangers and enraged beyond reason. He must get back to his trees, he must walk eternally through the sea. If you hear gentle hooves along the deck of your ship, the King Philips Deer may have decided your vessel is next to pay the price.
