All Stories, Fantasy

Kilted by Adam Lynch

‘The yung stag stood there wi blud on his muzzle. Prostrated before him wis the defeated challenger. They didnae fight for the right to a wuman, nor the right tae land but fae the sake of fighting’s sake. A hatred bore within both stag’s hearts exploded that misty mornin. For one had been taught to hate the other and the other tae hate the first. In truth the stags both looked the same and lived the same lives. Yet one lay deed and the other munched on his flesh. The ecstasy of hate well realised pumped thru the yung stag’s veins. He felt strong and mighty and the monarch of that moment. Whit did his violence gain besides this fleeting high? Fuck all. He sustained a wound to his left shooder and part of his earlier impressive crown was snapped aff and jammed in the deed stag’s neck. Blood soaked his soft brown coat and he looked altogether minging. The meat of the deed stag was tough and manky. The yung stag was close tae boaking so he left the quiet scene of quiet violence.’

‘Stumblin thru the woodlands the yung stag began to contemplate. Sitka spruce with their gangly limbs yanked at his coat and snagged on his antlers pissin him right off. The deed stag didnea need tae die surely to fuck. Death was so proper and not sumhin you jist could walk aff. Guilt began bleedin black intae his heart. The blood splattered all over his body became suddenly cauld. A foul wind picked up and the scent of rotting stag flesh filled his nostrils. Fuck this thot the yung stag. Fuck this right off.’

‘Through a quickened pace, despite his muscles screamin to slow the fuck doon, the yung stag reached relief. Amung the judging, looming trees was a wee glade. It was hidden and never too packed. Naebody really knew of it bar the yung stag and a few others. No right pricks would come here at the very least. In the glade wis a pond of golden water, frothing and bubbling wi life and energy. A fair few auld fish lived in the golden waters but bar them it wis fir the yung stag and the yung stag alone to slurp. He gave a courteous nod to the quiet toad that monitored the pond and then tucked right in. The first gulp wis awfy nice. Refreshin and cleansin. The second not so much and after some time the whole fuckin wirld was spinnin again. The yung stag nodded to the quiet toad and stumbled back intae the wids.’

‘Fuckin shiteheed deserved whit he got. Fuck him and fuck the lot of them. I fuckin wish another prick would stot up the now and have a go. I would kill im an all. None brave enough emerged in the dimmin light of the wids. The yung stag paused to lean against a tree for a wee bit. He boaked up golden water and some of the deed stag’s flesh before carrying on. Things wereny spinnin as much but he was still well and truly fucked. Fucked enough to know he wanted mare. Thoughts turned tae shrooms.’

‘It took a fair wee while but the yung stag found whit he wis looking fir. Vivid orange mushrooms grew over a black tree root. He took a wiff and knew they were the right stuff. Aff his nut the yung stag still knew well enough to take his time. Wan shroom at a time. The first tasted off but the effects kicked in soon efter. The trees took a funnier light and the mossy undergrowth turned blue. Wan more, the yung stag thought.’

‘Mither wailed fir him, Fathier wailed on him, sister fucked his pals, bruther fucked up his pals. Family unit forever broken appeared before the yung stag in an awffy painful vision. Why’d you have tae do it? The boys deed the boys deed! The deed stag stoted up out the shadows wi his neck still agape. His gruesome visage began to hee and haw like a bloomin donkey. I’m deed but you’re fucked!’

‘White light, white light, white light. Fuck me, thought the yung stag, fuck me. He had wandered right thru the wids to the road. Masses of metal hurtled past at speeds right over the limit. The yung stag needed tae cross. He needed his fuckin bed. Shite. He stepped out onto the hard-foreign surface just as a car flew past. Win a fight tae the death then get ploughed by a car ya fuckin twat. Hings were still aw the wrong colours but the wirld had stopped spinnin at least. Tae run and chance it or go slow as fuck and time it. Right. Blitzing full pelt the yung stag made it only sustaining minor wounds as a car clipped his rear.’

‘Left rear leg draggin behin im the yung stag fot on. He wis close. That thought sustained him. Nuttin else. For once hate did not drive him forwird but the need tae get home. By the road he spotted a rusted sign. It was writ in his forefather’s tongue but he didnae have a clue whit it meant. Like all others he spoke the foreigner’s tongue and was taught not tae hink twice aboot it so he didnae bother. His injurd leg buckled and he decked it on the surprisingly hard forest flair. Wi the excuse o’ pain the yung stag began bawin his eyes out. Mummy! Daddy! Anybody!’

‘He slipped away fir a few fleetin moments into dreamless slumber but was awakened. Squatting beside him was a wuman of eternal beauty. Pure ginger hair flowed wavy and long. Her slender face was splattered with freckles. Grass green eyes bore upon him equally warm and equally cauld. Her exposed flesh wis as white as the moon and her proportions modest. The yung stag opened his mouth tae speak but she bade him wheesht. She produced a white cloth dampened with water and began to cleanse him. Whenever the cloth got clogged wi blood or sick the wuman shook it aw aff and started again. Once she wis done she knelt doon and kissed his quiverin muzzle. She lay doon next tae him and held him tight. He cried again but soon fell intae a somewhat peaceful slumber.’


Adam Lynch

Image by Imagine_Images from Pixabay



5 thoughts on “Kilted by Adam Lynch”

  1. Ginger haired women can really make your day, esp. if its been a bit of a downer. That’s the reward for making it thru. I like the lingo and dry humour style regarding the absurdities of the life we’re cast into.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Hi Adam,
    I thought this was a very inventive piece of work.
    The dialogue was beautifully judged as it wasn’t too much but it sure did give a sense of place.
    This was one of those stories where you were happy to go along for the ride and the observations whispered in your ear.
    I loved ‘the ecstasy of hate’ line.
    All the very best my friend.


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