The Hollow Antlers of Bambi

A lightning fire cracks the forest open from the roots up, and something old wakes in the ash.

A young stag named Bambi rises into a landscape that does not behave like a burned place should. The ground breathes warm. Trees "bleed" a black sap that moves with intention. A grave splits open and exhales a scent that is both mother and rot. Then Bambi finds the crown at the center of it all: hollow antlers rising from the earth like an altar, riddled with mouths that hum with voices that should be gone.

The forest does not chase him like a predator. It recruits him. It carves him into an instrument, drilling holes into growing bone until his breath becomes a chord the woods can answer. Shadow-wolves assemble out of old hunts. Roots learn the shape of his name. A god made of bark, marrow, and stolen memory tilts its crown toward him and offers only one future: become the next vessel, or be consumed in the chorus.

The Hollow Antlers of Bambi is an adult, dark fairy-tale horror reimagining, folk-horror and cosmic dread fused with body horror and ritual mechanics. The woods remember, and they keep what they name.