This is a series of short stories, detailing the adventures of Chelsea Childling. You can start with her origin story or pick any story from the index.
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The dark of night quietly faded into dull morning as Chelsea and the others pulled up to the GPS co-ordinates they’d been given. Winter’s ever-present rain had slowed to a thick mist that mixed with the fresh sawdust in the air. An enormous stack of fresh tree limbs dominated the site. A fire illuminated the trees nearest them, but the rest of the pine forest was lost to the damp, velvet fog.

Chelsea flopped to the mossy loam with Keegan and her dog. “What now?”

Andy shrugged from his log on the other side of the fire and looked to their partner for this hunt. “Casey?”

The older woman smirked at them. A few lines carved her skin, but no grey sparkled in her hair. Her flannel and jeans were as no nonsense as her bobbed hair. “You said at least some of you had experience with guns, right?”

Chelsea met Andy’s eyes with a smile as she scratched at Bentley’s ears.. “What is it with you and guns?”

Andy answered her snark with his own. “Are you asking ‘cause I’m black? If so, that’s racist.”

Beside her, Keegan heaved a huge sigh and leaned against Bentley. “I cannot wait for this hunt to be over. You two are too much.”

Andy shrugged. “Or are you just not enough.”

Chelsea poked Keegan’s head while glaring at Andy. She was getting sick of playing peacemaker between the two of them. More and more, she considered letting them duke it out. “What kind of gun?”

Casey’s dark eyes twinkled with amusement as she surveyed the three of them. “Rifles.”

Chelsea beamed at Andy. “We used rifles when we hunted a nix.”

Keegan pinched his nose. “I’m decent with most handguns, but I’ve never held a rifle.”

Casey shrugged. “Three should be good, and we’ll need a lookout, anyway.”

“Why’s that?” Andy stretched his legs out, black boots resting a rock by the fire.

“Gumberoos are tree guardians.”

Chelsea winced and leaned into Bentley, looking for support. Her enormous mutt whined and licked her ear.

Casey cocked an eyebrow. “Anything I need to know?”

“I’ve fought Guardians.” Chelsea held back her anger, forcing a cold calm. “I thought we preferred to put them to sleep.”

Some of the amused indulgence drained from Casey. “Not that kind of guardian.” She studied Chelsea’s face. “Oh, you must be her.”

A thread of antagonism stitched in her chest. “Her?”

“Red hair, black fringed coat, and a giant dog. How did I miss it?” Casey shook her head.

Andy’s eyebrows rose. “What did you get up to out here, Red?”

Chelsea shrugged. “Just the usual stuff.” 

Casey snorted. “She got jumped by a forest guardian, took out a batsquatch by herself, and then got recruited by hedge doctors to hunt a mountain guardian.”

Both Keegan and Andy stared at her in shock. Chelsea hugged Bentley closer. “It’s not nearly as cool as she’s making it sound.”

Andy rolled his eyes, but Keegan clamped a hand on her neck. “You never mentioned this.”

“Sure I did. I told you I got tangled up in hedge doctor bullshit.”

Heat entered his voice. “You fought two different guardians…”

“The first wasn’t really a fight.” she shrugged. “Like she said, I got jumped and other hunters were already there.”

Casey scoffed as she walked into the fog just beyond their fire. “David and his team said you survived with only a minor concussion despite not knowing what a Guardian was or having a chainsaw.”

“Just you and that damned hatchet, huh, Red?” Andy rolled his eyes. “We need to get you a better weapon.”

“So you keep saying, but do I see one?” She glared at Andy. “No, no I do not.”

Keegan shoved Bentley away and pulled her to him, crushing her to his skinny chest. “We really need to talk more.”

“Why?” Chelsea scoffed as she pulled away. “You don’t hunt anymore, remember?”

Casey snickered as she set a huge black, plastic case and some canvas on a stump. “You kids are fun. I hope you stick around a little while. Anyway, gumberoos aren’t big forces that personify and protect aspects of nature. They are… well, extremely territorial, hairless bears that live in pine trees.”

“Hairless bears?” Andy rolled his eyes. “This is why I don’t leave my city.”

“Right because hairless bears are so much worse than giant sewer rats.” Chelsea glared across the fire at him. “And you did leave the city, so you aren’t running this hunt. Stop interrupting her.”

Casey snickered as she unlocked the hard plastic gun case. “Thank you, miss.”

“Any time, ma’am. Please continue.” Chelsea tried not to laugh with Keegan, but she heard her natural Georgia drawl slipping out too.

“Loggers out here have been documenting these monsters for over a century. They like pines close to the ocean, but not on the ocean. We think it’s a salt thing. Anyway, they protect their trees, and they live in packs.”

Chelsea eyed the branches overhead. “How much time do we have?”

“No idea.” Casey beamed at them. “I’ve been harvesting in this area for days, trying to piss them off. I’ve seen scat and claw marks, but so far, no gumberoos. However,” she glanced up at the sky, “we also know that they prefer to sleep when it’s rainy and forage when it’s clear.”

The ever present clouds of the Pacific Northwest in winter had miraculously cleared above them. Grinning, Chelsea jumped to her feet and rushed Casey, mirroring Andy. 

She loaded the weapon before offering it to Chelsea. “You feel like you need some pointers for this weapon.”

Chelsea checked the safety with a grin. “Nope. I understand that you jam it against your shoulder and accept that it sucks.” She grinned at the sudden concern on Casey’s face.

Once Andy had been similarly armed, Casey turned to Keegan. “There’s a deer blind just to your right. We’ll be counting on you. Hopefully, we’re on the edge of their grove and they’ll all come from the same direction. I’m not betting on it though. The ladder pulls up behind you, but gumberoos climb trees. I’ll leave it up to you if you want it up or down, but what are you doing if one comes at you up there?”

Keegan pulled a silvery cylinder out of his pocket and tossed it in the air. A long pole extended from it. He caught it with an only slightly showy flourish before pushing the button that collapsed the staff.

“Very cool.” Casey beamed at him. “This works out nicely.” 

As Keegan headed up the ladder, Andy leaned towards her. “So if even he has a decent weapon, why are you still carrying that damned hatchet?”

“Guess I’m just old school.” 

“Whatever, newbie.”

“And one more.” Casey patted her leg. “Come over here, big boy.”

Bentley glanced at Chelsea. She nodded to her dog, and he padded over to Casey. The hunter grabbed something canvas from a nearby stump. It unfolded into a complicated, bright orange vest. Casey strapped over Bentley’s neck and fiddled with the fit for a few minutes. “There you go.” She smiled over at Chelsea. “Once he starts running around, a flag pops up. Shoot above the flag, and he stays safe.”

A wide smile split Chelsea’s face. “Thank you.”

Casey nodded. “No problem. Don’t forget your ear plugs, everyone.”

After that they paced the fire, Bentley at their heels. Chelsea kept half an eye on the sky, praying the clouds stayed away. She had two, potentially suicidally stupid, hunters to find, and for all Casey seemed to enjoy them, she was not giving up where she took Jack and if Amber had been with him. Not until she got some help with her gumberoo problem.

As the sun burned across the pines, Keegan called out. “Left!”

Chelsea spun, already lifting the rifle to her shoulder. She barely sighted the pale pink monster when she squeezed the trigger. The gun’s stock slammed into her shoulder, but the first gumberoo went down as Keegan yelled, “Two more on the right!”

A gunshot from directly behind her caught Chelse off guard. She gasped and turned toward the sound. And therefore wasn’t at all ready when Andy stumbled into her a muttered, “Fuck.”

She slipped across the loamy ground, hands clutching her borrowed rifle.

“Duck!” Casey’s yell was small and tinny through the earplugs, but Chelsea crouched beside Andy as another shot went off. 

She had barely made her feet again when Keegan’s yell all but stopped her heart, “Bentley, no!”

Chelsea spun, still half couched, eyes searching for the bright orange vest. Bentley held his ground in front of Andy, teeth bared and legs splayed, barking his head off at a gumberoo. The giant pink monster swiped at her dog, and Chelsea saw red. She sprinted past Andy, swearing at the top of her lungs as Bentley dodged.

The yellowed teeth of the monster snapped close to the dog’s floppy ear, and Chelsea stopped thinking. She slammed the rifle to her shoulder and fired. Her shoulder hurt, but not in a way she could feel. It was more intellectual knowledge that pain existed without it meaning anything to her in the moment. Like the destroyed face of the gumberoo in front of her. 

Rife barely held her right hand, Chelse pulled her hunter’s ax with her left and slammed it into the gumberoo’s neck. “Stay the fuck away from my dog.”

She spun around, looking for her next victim, but the clearing was oddly quiet in the wake of the four monsters on the ground.

Casey grinned at them. “Good job, kids. Let’s get these things loaded onto my truck and dumped into my cess pit. Then I owe you three some coffee and information.”

Part of Chelsea wanted to argue for the information now, but she’d had enough of the guys interrupting Casey. So she handed the hunter her rifle and got to work cleaning up.

Stay safe for a little while longer, you two idiots.

***