Jason the buck hadn't anticipated seeing a hunter lurking around the bend in the woods early that frosty morning; he had quite forgotten about the opening of deer season. The rifle slug tore into Jason, its impact knocking the Starbucks coffee from his hoof as he backpedaled desperately, adrenaline giving him strength despite his mortal wound. Leading the hunter, Jason was able to find a concealing thicket and evade the man even as his life leaked from the gaping hole torn into his chest. He peered from the underbrush, watching as the hunter plodded resolutely by; the bozo appeared to be a cross between Elmer Fudd and Sarah Palin, and reeked of beer, body odor, and arrogance.

Weakening rapidly, Jason rested on his side as he raked mud from the damp earth and fashioned a crude figure from the clay soil, praying as he did so that there would be time to complete his task. His breath growing raspy, Jason chanted phrases from a strange language not spoken in hundreds of years as his work was finished. He held the golem in his hooves, breathed upon it, and smeared the clay with his spittle and blood. Jason looked upon the figure with satisfaction as several blue motes of light seemed to trace its outline and fill it with an otherworldly energy. The golem, an animate creature made of inanimate material, would carry on the fight for Jason despite his death.

"Avenge me!," gasped Jason to the small figure, and he died.

The small clay figure fell from the lifeless hooves, and began to move on the ground by its dead creator, at first almost imperceptibly and then in writhing, twisting motions. It seemed to draw additional substance from the earth itself, adding mass and size as it did so. Within an hour the golem stood erect, fully the size of a regular buck, and opened his black, bottomless eyes upon the world. There was a slight sucking sound as the golem pulled free of the clay soil and began to move forward, awkwardly at first and then with increasing fluidity.

The hunter did not see the deer golem approaching from behind, and the large clay animal grabbed him roughly, breaking his neck in the commando fashion. Stooping to retrieve the slain hunter's weapon, the animated deer of earth regarded the rifle, turning it about in his clay hoof and then firing it experimentally into the air. The sharp retort of the gun seemed to please the golem; instinctively he knew that this artifact of man would make his work much easier.

There were many hunters in Pennsylvania's woods that day of buck season, but the indestructible deer golem knew that it would be a target-rich environment. The golem strode purposefully and powerfully forward on hooves of clay as he moved resolutely to continue the grim harvest...