EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2023 Faedra Rose

  ISBN: 978-0-3695-0908-6

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Lisa Petrocelli

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  This series is dedicated to all my fellow spooks, to those who love the darkness and live for the excitement and thrill of Halloween! You are my people, and I hope you enjoy reading this book as much as I did writing it. Stay spooky monster lovers!

  LUNATIC DESIRES

  Loving Monsters, 5

  Faedra Rose

  Copyright © 2023

  Chapter One

  The darkness beneath the trees is fluid, leaking between the gnarled and twisted trunks of the forest like spilled ink. It shifts with the wind as it howls through the night—almost like it’s alive and stalking me—as I follow the well-trodden path toward Blackwater Falls. The shadows dance and sway, seemingly avoiding the moonlight’s touch as it filters through the canopy in fragile shafts of glittering radiance. The moon hangs in the sky high above the world like a brilliant silver pendulum or a white-hot jewel.

  It’s All Hallows’ Eve and it’s a picture-perfect fall night, which suits my purpose perfectly. Readjusting my bag on my shoulders, I can’t help the easy smile that creeps to my lips. Tonight, I hope to capture a truly breathtaking shot of the full moon hanging over the iconic falls. And if my photograph wins first place in the prestigious Western Viriginia Photography Awards, the five-thousand-dollar cash prize will be mine! It’s enough to start over. Just.

  I’ll be able to afford a reliable car for the road trip and a few weeks’ rent up-front when I arrive in New Orleans. I might have to find work along the way because nothing burns coin like gas … but to get out of here, I’d do anything.

  Point Pleasant might be where I was born, but it’s not where I’ll die. My parents never made it out of this fucking State, but I will. I must. This place haunts me, and I can’t stand it, and I won’t. I refuse. Not for any longer than I absolutely have to.

  Once I reach Louisiana, I can live the life I’ve always wanted. I can try and make a living from my art, make a real business of it. And life doesn’t get more thriving, colorful, or interesting than it does in the old French Quarter. It’s where I want to be, and that’s why I’m here trekking to Blackwater Falls on Halloween. This is my chance and I’m going to seize it like a lifeline with both hands.

  Hugging myself against the chill, I continue through the dark, until something unusual and unexpected catches my eye. I stop and do a double take, squinting through the shadows to make sense of what I’m seeing. What the fuck? It’s … a locket—a real silver locket glittering beneath transient moonbeams. Approaching the branch from which it’s dangling, I inspect the trinket by what limited, dappled light there is. It’s beautiful and ornate but tarnished heavily by time and the elements.

  Taking the locket in my hands, I trace my fingers over its surface, admiring its delicate heart shape and the floral filigree decorating its surface. “What are you doing here?” I ask aloud, my brows furrowing in thought. Is it lost or stolen property? Who would leave such a timeless treasure hanging from a tree exposed to the weather? Reaching for my phone, I wrangle it one-handed, turning on the light to better inspect the trinket.

  With hesitant, careful fingers I open the heart to find a tiny, sepia-stained photograph of a man. Tilting my head, my curiosity aroused, I peer at the photo as my eyes adjust to the light. The man is handsome as far as I can tell, with a strong jaw, a serious expression, and short, slicked-back hair. He seems like a gentleman of a bygone era. Being sepia, and judging by the silversmithing of the locket, it must have been taken some time in the late 1800s. This is a fucking heirloom! A piece of history, I marvel.

  Depending on who this man is, this could be worth a fortune. The jewelry alone makes it a timeless antique that deserves to be locked behind glass in a museum. So, what the hell is it doing hanging from a tree? Surely if this were hanging here earlier, during the day, some opportunistic bastard would have stolen it…

  Which can only mean that someone hung it out here tonight. But I haven’t encountered another living soul. The trail through Blackwater Falls State Park is dead silent, devoid of everything but the sounds of nature. I don’t imagine anyone in their right mind would venture out here after dark. Especially not on Halloween.

  Most folk in Point Pleasant are heavily superstitious, though they’d never admit it in this day and age. The cryptid icon of Western Virginia supposedly calls this town home—the elusive and terrifying Mothman of legend. First spotted in 1966, the rumors and sightings have circulated ever since. We even have an artistic metal statue of the monster on Main Street. It’s a bit of a draw card when it comes to tourism for the area.

  Don’t get me wrong, I’m a fan of monsters. They’re cool. They make for great horror movies and fun fiction, but anyone with a brain knows that shit isn’t real. There’s no God, no Devil, and certainly no fucking Mothman. Obviously. Pursing my lips, I can’t bring myself to leave the locket. There’s no guarantee that someone with less honorable intentions won’t take it in the morning.

  At least if I take it, I can protect it until I’m able to get it valued and investigated. It might belong to a family that still lives in town. Maybe I could reunite them with their precious heirloom! I imagine there’s quite a story behind it. I slip it carefully over the ends of the branch and secure it around my own neck for safekeeping until I get home. If it’s around my neck, I can’t lose it in the dark.

  With a smile at my find, I move to step forward, only for my brows to scrunch again. I hadn’t noticed at first, but there’s a small trail that leads off the well-worn path by the tree from which the locket was hanging. Curious. I wonder where it leads? Being a bit of a “curiosity killed the cat” type, my heart leaps with excitement at the prospect of adventure. Judging from the direction it disappears into the forest, it just may lead to a lesser-known vantage point above the falls. And that idea has potential.

  I won’t be the first photographer to capture a nice shot of Blackwater Falls, but maybe I’ll be able to snap an angle that hasn’t been seen before. Perhaps that’s what will help me secure a win—a unique view of one of the most popular tourist attractions in our State. Before I even consciously decide, I know I’m sold. The temptation is too great. The moon is bright, I have all my equipment, and a blazing hope for a new beginning. It’s all I need.

  Maybe this is Fate?

  Sucking a deep breath into my lungs—the promise of a better future ahead of me—I glance down at the locket hanging between my breasts and set off down the obscure trail and into the night.

  Chapter Two

  The trail is narrow, and damp shrubbery brushes against my shoulders as I pass. I feel the moisture soak into my thin leggings as I go but shrug it off. What’s a little discomfort for a chance to start over? The path winds this way and that, meandering in an odd pattern that slowly follows the incline of the mountain.

  An owl flusters and hoots nearby, perhaps offended by my trespassing so close to her nest.

  “I’m just passing through,” I say, spying her magnificent golden orbs in the darkness of the treetops. “Never mind me.” A smile quirks my lips as I move on. I can’t imagine how wonderful the freedom of having wings must be. Flying anywhere you want, whenever you want—with nothing and no one to stop you! It must be marvelous. If I had wings, I’d leave this place and soar high above the world, skimming clouds and dancing with the wind.

  A sigh escapes me, and I forge ahead, readjusting the straps of my camera bag. The night fills me with a sense of wonder. I may not be superstitious, but I love Halloween. It’s a great holiday. Fall is one of my favorite times of year, and the decorations and festivities fit my Gothic style to a T. All I need to see are a few bats silhouetted against the brilliance of the moon, or the Mothman, and my All Hallows’ Eve will be perfect.

  The wind begins to pick up and I regret not grabbing my scarf on the way out as the chill breeze raises the tiny hairs on the back of my neck. I shiver involuntarily. The evening is satisfyingly crisp, but with the added wind chill it’s definitely cold. It feels like it’s going right through me, like a ghost transcending my flesh to steal all the warmth from my soul. Come on, Penny, I chastise myself. Ghosts? Really. As if!

  Time loses all meaning as I trudge on. The twisting, secret path seems to have no end. But it does end—eventually. My breath catches in my throat, my stomach drops, and my legs turn to jelly at the sight before me. A yawning maw of pitch-black darkness rears out of the earth like a pit of despair, swallowing all natural light that dares enter.

  “Whoa.” Every instinct screams at me that this was a mistake. My gut warms me to turn back and find an alternate route to the Falls, but another part of me yearns to risk life and limb for the sake of adventure. Where could it go? Why is it here? I can only guess. I’m alone and cell reception out here is sketchy at best. I’d be mad to go in. I stand at the cave entrance, dangling upon the precipice of indec ision.

  What if I fall? What if I damage or lose my camera equipment? I don’t know where this hole leads, and if something happened to me, how long would it be until someone raised the alarm? How long until they began their search? Would they find me? I told no one where I was headed tonight. There was no one to tell. I grimace. With my parents gone, I’m practically alone in this world. I’ve grown used to being independent and making ends meet all on my own.

  It’s just me, myself, and I. If I don’t make my dreams a reality, I’ll end up stuck here, forced to endure a monotonous and unfulfilling life of shift work at the Seven Eleven in town. The thought gives me pause. I don’t have insurance. If I get hurt there’s no one to take care of me, either. But despite every rational and logical reason to walk away and never look back, I find my feet taking steps forward, toward the impenetrable, inky gloom.

  Maybe I can explore just a little way in? A peek couldn’t hurt, could it? A distant voice on the wind calls out, or is it a bird screeching? Or perhaps my mind is playing tricks on me as nerves get the better of me. There’s no one here, I assure myself. Stop being a baby. It’s just a peek! Steeling my nerves, I shrug off my bag and leave it by the cave mouth. It’ll be safer here, and I’ll be more sure-footed if I’m unburdened. Checking my phone battery, my signal plunges to zero.

  “Just a peek,” I whisper. Raising my phone before me to light the way, I glance over my shoulder at the picturesque night once more, then step into the darkness. The ground beneath my feet is strangely smooth, as if worn down by feet over a long passage of time. Strange. The rest of the area surrounding the cave looks wild and untouched. Aside from the narrow path, there’s no sign that this route is frequented by more than the odd explorer. It’s too overgrown—too hidden. Weird.

  Undeterred, I walk on, descending into the bowels of the earth and toward the unknown. Maybe, if Fate is kind and luck is on my side, this cave will lead me somewhere spectacular … to a part of the Blackwater Falls never seen before! If it does, I can always retrace my steps and collect my equipment.

  The path leads down, the darkness all-encompassing. It’s cold, but without the breeze it’s infinitely more bearable, and the deeper I venture, the warmer it seems to get. Makes sense, I reason. Bears like caves because they’re safe and warm. Bears. “Shit,” I breathe, my eyes widening in the gloom. I’m a fucking idiot!

  Chapter Three

  Holy crap. Shit. Shit. Shit. I’m unarmed and who knows how deep and far into this tunnel. But surely, if there were bears, I would have come across them already, wouldn’t I? Heart racing, I feel torn. Go back while the going’s good and get a damn shot of the Falls? Or explore on and find out just where this bizarre, smooth passageway goes? My inner rebel takes my fear and beats it to death before it can take ahold and destroy my Halloween adventure.

  I’ve come this far without incident—I might as well go on. Soon the cave seems to bottom out and widen into a larger cavern. My phone light isn’t powerful enough to see further than a few feet, but there’s space all around me now, and I can no longer reach the cold, stone walls. “You’re okay,” I whisper. “Just keep the light ahead and watch your feet.”

  A deep and rumbling growl fills my ears and my heart bunny-hops in my chest. I can almost feel my life leave my body. Oh no. Dear God, No! I freeze as still as a statue, my phone still grasped firmly in hand. Every muscle in my body quakes with terror. I’m fucked. I’m so very, very fucked! I’m going to get mauled, eaten, and shit out by a fucking black bear! What a way to go. Seriously. Fuck my life.

  So much for my new beginning. I’m going to die here in West Virginia, just like my parents, and I’ll never see New Orleans. I’ll never take another photo again. This is my curtain call. I hear the distinct sound of heavy footfalls on the earth, and in a sheer moment of panic I lumber backward. Something crunches horrifically underfoot, and I stumble right onto my ass. A shriek escapes me as I fall and it’s amplified by the cavern, echoing in a mockery of my ungracious stumble.

  I scramble backward and raise my phone before me like a shield of light. There’re bones scattered all over the ground. Lots and lots of bones. And that cracking sound? A skull of some description that I just crushed with my boot. In the shadows beyond the reach of my pitiful light, I see a great lumbering shape. There is no mistaking the territorial huffing and low rumble of the bear as it ambles forward, closing in for the kill.

  This is it. This is how I die. The bear draws nearer. It’s so close I smell its breath now. There’s nowhere to go. I can’t outrun a bear. For a split-second I contemplate grabbing a broken bone and attempting to defend myself, but this beast is massive, and I just waltzed into its home. It’s pissed. Even if I managed the odd stab or two, it’d be like tossing stones into the Grand Canyon. It probably wouldn’t even feel it and then it’d gore my throat anyway.

  It roars suddenly and its spittle flies at my face, its rancid breath blows my hair over my shoulder. I can’t prevent the strangled scream that tears forth from my throat as I realize the bear’s mouth is wide enough to just bite my face off.

  A bloodcurdling screech vibrates through my soul, ricocheting off the rock walls to bounce around painfully in my skull. It’s so shrill and high-pitched that it could be ultrasonic. In confusion and agony, I drop my phone and plaster my hands to my ears, protecting them from the abominable sound.

  The bear shakes its head from side to side in the darkness, illuminated only by my discarded phone. It roars in retaliation, but a heartbeat later a great black shadow slams into the beast—knocking him sideways and across the cavern.

  What the fuck was that? My guts twist inside me as whatever it was that barreled into the bear shrieks again. My head swims, and I squeeze my eyes shut tight against the pain. I feel warmth trickle from my ears and between my fingers. I know with mortifying certainty that it’s blood. Bones skitter in all directions as the two creatures fight, and I turn my face away, but then it hits me. Now is my chance. Maybe I can make a run for it while they’re occupied?

  Steeling my courage, I scramble to my feet and bolt haphazardly into the darkness, blind without my phone. It’s live or die, I must take the risk. But my ears ring, and I have no idea in which direction I’m headed. I just run, hands outstretched before me, and pray to God that I make it out of here alive. Maybe West Virginia isn’t so bad, after all.

  Maybe I should count myself lucky to be breathing and able to stand on my own two feet? Maybe chasing a dream was the dumbest thing I ever did. But I don’t have time to mull the thought over, because in the next two seconds my already dark and terrifying world comes to a bone-grinding halt. One moment I’m pelting through the inky gloom for my life, and the next—nothing.

  Chapter Four

  When I awaken pain greets me, ringing clarion clear in my ears. I wince, my hand flying to my head. “Fuck me,” I breathe. Disoriented, it takes a moment for my situation to sink in and for me to remember just where I am. And a further several seconds to comprehend just what the fuck I’m looking at when I glance up, squinting in the firelight.

  A tall shadow looms over me, wings flared, antennae erect. A scream dies on my lips as the figure squats down, and suddenly the nightmarish shape has a face, and I scramble backward on my ass for the second time, heart thumping in my chest like the drums of war. Big black, lidless eyes regard me with curiosity within a very otherwise humanlike face. My gaze roves over his body, drinking him in, every ounce of logic in my mind rejecting what my eyes are seeing.

  His skin is as black as the night sky and has an iridescent sheen in the flickering light. The creature is lithe and athletically muscular, and his rippling ladder of abdominals makes my foggy brain swoon despite my sheer disbelief and terror. And as if my heart could bear another fright, my gaze drops between his thighs, and I almost die on the spot.

 

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