I’m sure you have all heard of the Appalachian Rules:
If you see something, no you didn’t.
If you hear something, no you didn’t.
If something whistles at you, you don’t whistle back.

But what happens if you ignore the rules? What will happen if you whistle back or interact with the so-called “wildlife” in the Appalachian Mountains? This is the legend of the “Not Deer” located in the Appalachian Mountains. 

It is unknown where the legend of “Not Deer” came from. People have often claimed this tale is a simple internet rumor, created to scare people away from Appalachian trails and the forest as a whole. However, many believe that the “Not Deer” have been seen before and have been haunting the trails as a way to keep an eye on hikers, campers, and humans altogether.

The “Not Deer” begin as normal-looking deer, grazing the pastures with their tails swishing back and forth. Broad antlers atop their heads as a way of showing hierarchy, a way to show who has survived another season of humans entering their homes to harvest their flesh to feed their own. Until the deer takes its revenge and the roles reverse.

Imagine walking to your tree stand, hoping to bring a fresh kill home to feed your family. As soon as you step into the tree line, you spot a buck, grazing and paying you no mind. You decide to pass it up, believing there are bigger and better options out in the woods tonight. As time passes, you may see the same buck from only moments ago; now, instead of grazing, it is staring at you. Eyes wide and ears perked, antlers cocked just a little crooked. Something isn’t right here.

The buck walks on, seemingly deciding to pass you up, or maybe it’s simply waiting to catch you off guard. Hours have passed now. The forest is silent until you hear the soft crunch of leaves under something’s feet as it walks beneath your stand. The same deer walks by again, only now, its legs are bent unnaturally, its jaw is unhinged with a slobbering tongue licking at the air, already tasting its next meal. Its eyes are glazed over, and the air has gained a stench of rotting flesh.

Maybe it’s not the same deer? This thing looks like it has some kind of disease or mange. Once you’ve calmed your mind with that rational conclusion, the deer is out of sight. You decide to call it quits after your little scare and start heading back to your vehicle. As you walk, you hear something following you and matching your pace. When you stop walking, it stops too.

You begin to pick up speed until you’re in the middle of the pasture. All you can see is vast darkness and trees, and trees are good at hiding things. You may think you’re safe until the deer appears again. This time, it is completely deformed. Its antlers are crooked and winding into sharp points, with ghastly sharp teeth, grinning at you. Its legs look broken until it breaks out into an uncanny sprint. You’re as good as dead. You can never outrun the cryptids of Appalachia. After all, how else would they be able to keep themselves a secret if not with forced, deadly silence from any who have the misfortune of spotting them?

No one knows what the “Not Deer” do to their kills. Maybe they, too, bring them back to their family to keep them fed. Or maybe they leave the bodies to rot or be found, the cause of death being deemed a freak accident. Either way, maybe you shouldn’t have gotten greedy and passed up the deer you saw in the first place.

Edited and Reviewed by Hailey Hutchison