Under the Moonlight of a Buckeye Tree
Some stories are planned out. Others just happen, and wont let you rest until you finish them. This was one of the latter. Please note that tag that says: 'Horror'. Furs looking for a quick yiff would be well advised to to move on. I don't write M/F stories for just such a reason ...
Under the Moonlight of a Buckeye Tree
2006 by Eldyran
As the May storm blows through the open window, rufflin' the curtains with the Minnesota night's air, the light of the full moon peaks through the gaps in the blinds and bathes ma bedroom in shades of off white and dull black.
I think of her.
The fresh smell of rain and wet pine needles clings to the humid, thick air, the pure scent just one of many reasons why I won't go back. The roar of the fallin' rain outside merges with Amy Lee's vocals, drownin' out the light snores from ma boyfriend Nathan. He lays asleep next to me, the warmth of his naked body next to mine does little to keep away the chill that now runs through me, down to ma bones. He says that the only way he can stay sleepin' is to have Evanescence continuously play on our stereo throughout the entire night.
I think ma nightmares are givin' him fits.
We had ourselves another fight today. About bringin' his little Shetland from back at his folk's place to stay here with us. I don't care how cute he says the mutt is. It still has a muzzle. I stare at the red numbers of our alarm clock sittin' over yonder there on the nightstand. 10:30. Half the night is gone, and I still can't fall asleep for the life of me. Docs say it's because of the horse pills I'm on. 'Em fancy city doctors can't tell the difference between their ass and a hole in the ground, at least thats what my Pa used to say.
A couple of flashes flicker through the open blinds, and a peal of thunder rumbles through the night a few moments later. I love the thunderstorms here in Minnesota, that, and all the woods 'round these parts. Sometimes I tell maself that's why I moved up here. Other times I tell maself it's cause I needed a real nice education like ma Pa said he always wanted me to get.
I did it to run from her.
Like ma Pa's Pa, and his Pa before that.
I look at the calender of state parks we have hangin' on the wall. It's the 11th of May, 2006. I close ma eyes and clutch the sheets. Exactly ten years ago this very night I finally saw her for what she really was. I reckon I better tell Nathan about it sometime, but I doubt he'll believe me. Same reason I suppose I never told nobody else. There isn't a moment that goes by that I don't think of her. I pull the sheets closer and try not to do just that. But I can't.
I still cant figure out for the life of me how sumthin like that could look like a girl. Like the time when I first saw her ...
* * * * *
Even though I was a senior in high school back then, Pa made me take the bus. Said it was easier on gas that way. All the rest of ma friends had their own cars, and drove to school. But then again I reckon they had folks that could afford the gas. Now don't go thinkin' I'm complain' about it, makin' such a fuss and all, cause aside from the fact that I rode the same bus as all the younguns from junior high, I didn't really mind it all that much. Gave me plenty of time to read.
We'll, as much as the bus would allow. See our school had pretty much the shittiest excuses for buses this side of the Ohio river. I figure they musta replaced the shocks on our school's buses with slinkys or sumthin' from the way the bus frame rattled. I reckon it didn't help that our back roads had potholes so large you could drop an entire cement block into, and not even notice a difference.
So between from the hollerin' of all the youngins, and the jar of the rock hard, duct taped seat under ma ass, I'm surprised I even saw her. I remember takin' a moment to rest ma eyes, the words on the page kept blurin' from all the shakin' the bus was doin', and when I looked up, there she sat, plain as day. She sat in the seat across and two rows back from me, lookin' away into the window, her pale hands folded into her lap. She looked like she was thinkin' about sumthin', and at the time didn't pay that much bother to ma gawkin'. Now normally I wouldn't have gave her a second look, on account of me not bein' inclined in that direction, even back then, but for some reason sumthin' about her seemed out of place. I suddenly felt chilled, even over the blast of the heater under ma seat.
Her hair was thick, and had this odd shade of brown twinged with a hint of red. Her eyes were a cornfield green, with thick lashes and brow. Her skin was smooth and pale, her cheekbones set high. Aside from my small nose, which I got from ma Ma, and her side of the Buchanann family up in Wisconsin, we could have been kin.
She wore a secondhand OSU short sleeve shirt, now aged gray instead of white, and an off white, bare thread skirt with a real ugly floral design dyed into it, both prolly picked up at the local Goodwill. Her scuffed up sneakers were untyed, and her right sole was comin' unglued. Two half broken metal hair clips held back her her long reddish hair, in a ponytail, and it spilled over her shoulders like one of the little waterfalls of ma secret spot I used to have up in the hills by ma house.
Now shitty clothes ain't what you call a rarity back in Scioto county, cause ever since the steel mill in New Boston shut down twenty years ago, and put a lot of decent folk out of work, good payin' jobs have been few and far between. Now for some reason, and I ain't sure why, but those clothes didn't look right on her. Like she was tryin' too hard to fit in or sumthin'. Maybe I could picture her wearin' sumthin from the Sears catalog ma Ma used to browse through, or even one of those fancy dresses I read about in War of the Worlds, but not this. After cockin' ma head and adjustin' the taped up glasses on the brim of ma nose, it suddenly hit me.
It wasn't just her clothes.
It was her skin.
Not her actual skin mind you, but whatever it was coverin' the real her up. Lookin' at her for longer than a few seconds sent the creeps up my spine, like I was seein' sumthin' I had no business seein' in the first place. I got the same feelin' readin' about the aliens who hijacked human bodies in The Puppet Masters, which I finished just two months prior. Ma Ma used to say, before the cancer took her two years ago, that readin' all that far fetched Sci-Fi nonsense would put things into your head that weren't worth two shit licks. But then again, I'm here, tellin you ma story, which by all rights, I wouldn't be doin' if I hadden been keen to her from the get go. I'd be Gawd knows where doin' Gawd knows what, with ma own false skin.
I don't like to think about it much.
I musta been gawkin' a lot longer then I thought, 'cause she turned and looked at me. I kinda froze, like when a rabbit sees a fox seein' him. I thought maybe if I just stayed still, she'd ignore me and move on. When she didn't, I planted ma nose back to Red Planet and tried to read some more. After a few seconds, I felt like I was the one bein' watched. I tried to be all coy by lookin' up at the hellions makin' a real ruckus in the seats next to her.
Her green eyes still bore into me, like a auger borin' out fencepost holes in hard packed dirt. Ma Pa rents those out by the way. Real cheap, and right out of New Boston. Yes-sir-ree. Wagner Rental and Supply. I guess everyone knows ma kin around those parts. Maybe thats how she found me in the first place.
I'll never forget the smile on her face when I looked up, like I had been caught givin' her the eyes. I always hated that about girls. You stare at 'em for longer than two seconds and they start to get funny ideas in their head like you got some funny ideas rollin' around inside your own head. It's down right criminal. Truth is I did stare at girls a lot back then, but in all honesty, I was still tryin' to figure out what all the guys had been tryin' to make such a fuss over since fourth grade. I started to wonder if this was the funny feelin' I was supposed to get when ma Pa told me I'd meet the girl I was supposed to be with forever and ever.
If so, then I didn't want to be anywhere near her a second longer.
Ma stomach began to churn, and goosebumps prickled up both of ma arms. For a second, I thought I was about to break eye contact first, but thankfully she turned away first, starin' back at the window next to her. Before I went back to ma own business, I noticed her half grin. She certainly seemed smug about sumthin, like she knew sumthin I didn't. She musta gotten off at the next stop, 'cuase the next time I looked up, she was gone. Too bad the nasty feelin' at the bottom of ma stomach didn't follow with her. I did notice a real funny thing though. After she left the bus wasn't near as cold ...
* * * * *
I had almost forgotten her three weeks later, until she walked past my locker after school let out one fine April day. Ma arms were full of civics books, folders, and trapper keepers, all goslin' around to see what could fit first into ma poor excuse for a locker, when suddenly a chill ran up ma spine. I had to crank ma head, but I caught her out of the corner of ma eye, walkin' past with a couple books of her own, that same half smile on her face. Before I could see what clever disguise she could come up with this time, sumthin shoved the books in ma hands down, and they tumbled out of my grasp to the hallway floor.
"Hey Fagner, what you gawkin' at? You like the skirt shes wearin', you cocksucker?"
Most of the students had already left by then, so the bedlam of the last bell was pretty much done with, so that just left two kinds: The stragglers, and those who had to stay after school. I didn't have a whole lot of friends, so I wasn't as quite in a rush to stow ma stuff and get the hell bent outta school to begin with, so I usually waited for others to get done with their lockers before attemptin' to get into mine.
That just left the trouble makers to deal with.
I looked up just in time to get a shoulder pad to the face, and the back of ma head smacked against the locker door. Ma hand flew to the back of ma skull, and ma eyes teared up from the pain. I didn't have to see who was hazin' me, I recognized 'em from their voices.
"Awwwhh did we make the little queer wanna cry? You goin' to cry now for us?" The second voice jeered on, and I opened my eyes to number 23 and 13 respectively. Boggs and Sparks were first string on our varsity football squad, and prolly on their way to practice. They punched each other's jersey's, mockin' me, whistin' right in ma face. Ma fists bawled up, but they both knew I wasn't goin' to start nothin'. If the teachers and the principal weren't goin' to stand up for me, why should I?
What I still don't get to this day is why I got so much shit back then for sumthin' I hadden even done. See ma Baptist Preacher had done his job pretty well I figure, fillin' ma head with brimstone and the Lord's wrath, so I told maself that if I kept a handle on these feelin's I got around other boys, then I wouldn't have to wind up in Hell with child molesters and pagans. Had I known what I do now, I wouldn't have kissed that one boy on the play ground durin' fourth grade recess, at least in front of ma peers, who saw fit to remind me every day since then. Another thing I never got, if people like Boggs and Sparks didn't want me to be gay, why they kept remindin' me that I was every chance they got.
"Come on guys, grow up, will yah?" The two turned around to my friend Allison, who had just shut her own locker on the other side of the hallway, shoulderin' her book bag.
"What are you his fag hag now or what?" Boggs chimed in, but Sparks took his helmet and hit him in his chest guard.
"Hey man, were goin' to be late ... come on ... or Davis is goin' to have us run laps again ..." Boggs shrugged before givin' me the finger.
"Later loser ..."
After they left, jeers still echoin' down the empty hallway, I bent down and started gatherin' ma things, shovin' 'em into my open locker. Allison came over and leaned against the row of lockers above ma head, peerin' down at me.
"Hey you okay, Red?"
"Yeah" I said, still flushed and red, eyes full of angry tears. Red was what she had been callin' me since elementary school, on account of ma hair.
"Hey, you going to prom in two weeks?" Despite growin' up in bum fuck hicks ville, Allison was one of the few I grew up with who seemed immune to the Southern Appalachian drawl. She had real smarts too, and managed to get through Bowling Green quite alright. Last I heard, she had gotten married to a nice guy up in Dayton.
"Nah," I said, standin' up and wipin' the rest of the tears from ma eyes, "What would I wanna go for?"
"Oh I don't know ... just for the hell of it?" Allison said, lookin' down at her feet, which was now scuffin' up the janitor's fresh wax job. Thats when I caught the girl from the bus out of the corner of ma eye again, millin' about just down the hall.
"Hey Alli?"
"Yes?"
"Who is that girl over yonder, by the fountain?" I asked, noddin' in her direction.
"You mean your sister?" Alli said, gigglin'. Apparently she too noticed the odd similarity in our looks.
"Screw off, I'm serious ..." I said, punchin' her in the arm.
"Her? I hear she's new. Outta state prolly. I think her name is Elisha. She sorta gives everyone the creeps ..." Allison said while closin' ma locker door for me. "Why you thinking of asking her to the prom?" I gave her a funny look in return.
"Helllll nooo .... she gives me the willies ... I just asked 'cause I think she's been followin' me around ..."
"Oh come on Red," She said as she rolled her amber eyes at me, "Why would she want to stalk you?"
"I dunno, but I guess your right. Maybe it's ma mind runnin' amuck on me."
"Hey you need a ride home? I think your late for your bus ..."
"Nah thats okay, I'm goin' to hoof it. I think the fresh air might do me a world of good."
"Okay ... hey you wanna get together after school tomorrow and help each other out on our Civic's essays for next week?"
"Sure ..." I grabbed ma backpack off the floor as she smiled at me and turned to leave. When I looked back to the fountain, the mystery girl was gone.
* * * * *
A few hours later I reached the hillsides where I spent half ma days, and some nights. Despite the rain earlier that day, the sky had cleared up quite a bit, and aside from a few remainin' storm clouds on the horizon, a gentle breeze blew through the treetops. A couple of standin' puddles of fresh rainwater filled the divets besides the railroad tracks that I followed through the backwoods all the way home, and I kicked a few errant granite stones into 'em, the sound of the splash carried far in the relative silence.
The sun had taken on this real purty orange glow, and was set on castin' real long shadows along the ground. The cicada's were out this year again, and their chorus rose and fell in sequence through the oak and walnut treetops. I scuttled just off into the woods, found a nice place to sit and read on a boulder, and pulled out a beat up copy of Starship Troopers.
I tended to do that a lot back then. It was hella lot better than sittin' at home listenin' to ma folks argue about how they were goin' to pay the next grocery bill, or the Def Leppard that blared through ma older brother's door. Just me and the wind whistlin' through the trees really. I guess thats all I needed back then.
I musta been there readin' for an hour or so, 'cause the next time I looked up, the sun wasn't nuthin more than a fiery semi circle in the west. I ear leafed the page I was on and closed ma eyes, about ready to get up and hustle it back to ma house for supper. The cicadas really kicked up for a moment, and I let the chorus wash over me, the dank smell of wet earth fillin' ma nostrils.
Thats when I suddenly got real cold inside.
My eyes snapped open, and thats when I realized the cicadas had gone dead silent. I turned ma head, real nice and slow, to the heart of the darkenin' woods behind me. Lookin' back on it, I shouda ran. It wasn't like I wasn't nuthin but a sissy anyway. I felt like a rabbit again, frozen to the spot.
And the fox was standin' right behind me.
I realize now she wasn't a fox. She was a wolf. A fox will play with it's prey alright, where a wolf will just stalk and kill. At least this time she wore sumthin more fittin' for herself. Any other girl would look downright silly walkin' through the back woods of Appalachia in a green silk dress that flowed all the way down to her ankles, but for some reason it fit her just right. Her bare feet sank into the moist earth, her toenails real long and sharp. She clutched a wild red rose between two hands, the nails on 'em just as long, and just as sharp. Her smile was predatory; the cruel canines glinted in the dyin' rays of the settin' sun. I swear there for a moment, her eyes weren't green anymore, more liken a stomach churnin' bright yellow, but that musta been a trick of the settin' sun in 'em or sumthin.
In all honesty I was scared sumthin fierce, but my head wasn't near as fuzzy as it was on the bus. I think that that was on account that she was lettin' more of her true self show now that it was just us two. I turned around real slow like, the rabbit not wantin' to make any moves that the wolf might not like.
"This ... is for yew ..." she said, smilin' all nice and coy, and she extended her rose to me. Ma peers were right. She was definitely from out of state. My best guess was clear out of the good U.S. of A even. When I didn't reach the few feet to take her gift, she looked almost heart broken there for a moment. I felt suddenly bad, despite the chill in ma heart.
"Don't you want it?" Her accent dropped for the time bein', but it still sounded like she wanted to say 'vaunt' instead of 'want'. Ma hand reached out, treblin' like a leaf in the wind, and took her rose. I felt so stupid sittin' there, on the boulder, not sayin' nothin' to this strange girl.
"Where did you get this?"I said, sniffin' the flower. I never knew we had 'em growin' wild 'round these parts.
"I found it by scent," she said, takin' another step towards me, "Just like I found you ..." Now I'm not the smartest guy to come from ma family line, but I had common sense to know this girl was two bushels short of a full harvest. I decided to go along with her game for now, and take ma leave of her when the time was right and social to.
"You been followin' me?" I asked, hands shakin' even more. I dropped ma book back into my backpack, and the thorns on the stem of the rose broke the skin of ma clumsy hand in the process. Without askin' she reached out and took it in hers, and licked the drops of blood clean, real gentle like.
This girl had gone from creepy to loony in two shakes of a coon dog's tail.
And yet ma heart stopped as I felt her rough tongue on ma hand, the sensation thrillin', the act lovin' and sincere. Ma mind swam with a whole buncha conflin' feelins, and I had to pull ma hand back out of her tight grasp. She looked at me with her deep, now green eyes, so upset that I had gone and hurt her feelins now, but I wasn't about to take any chances. I stepped up from ma seat and took a couple of steps backwards.
"Elisha ... look ... thank you kindly for the rose but .."
"Elsa."
"Cry your pardon?"
"My name ... it is Elsa."
"Is that what they call you where you come from?" I asked, although not entirely interested in knowin' anythin' more 'bout her. She nodded, then cocked her head.
"Do you love family?" At this point I'd talk ma way out of anythin', all that I was concerned with was puttin' a few more precious feet between me and this girl thin' as soon as possible. The notion of her bein' an alien skinwalker seemed more and more appealin' to me with every passin' minute.
"Of course. Kin is everythin' to me ..." She smiled real bright at that, canines falshin', as if I said sumthin that she wanted to hear.
"Tell me of them?"
"What do you want to know?" I asked, takin' another step back.
"Have they ... always lived here?" She asked, matchin' ma step.
"Wagners? Yessum ... been here for three generations at least. Dunno after that. Ma great grandpapy kinda stepped out of the back hills of West Virgina one day at a gas station, askin' for food and work. He musta been only ten at the time, and he never told ma grandpa anythin' about his family. He was probably runnin' from 'em for some reason.
"Do you know that the blood of the Vagner clan runs through your veins?" She said more than asked, her eyes turnin' real steely, like she was testin' me.
"If thats when they called 'em Wagners back then I guess so," I backpedaled, and tried to take a nice, slow step backwards, "Ma Pa said they prolly fled Germany before the first world war, came across the Atlantic over here and hid in the Appalachians."
"Do you ... know what they were hiding ... from?" She asked, leanin' forward, as if about to pounce, her canines pressin' tight against her bottom lip.
"I have a pretty good guess ..." I said, our identical green eyes locked on each other. Yessum, we both knew the jig was up. This rabbit bolted.
Now I'd be lair if I didn't say I was scared for ma life, and I ran like the devil himself was hellbent on takin' me, ma sneakered feet poundin' away at the forest floor like they were tryin' to beat a path to china. Branches slashed ma face, and briar's threatened to trip me down, but I somehow managed to keep ma footin'. I ditched ma book bag and rose without thinkin' twice about it, ma arms pumpin' by ma side like some Olympic track runner.
How the girl kept pace with me in her bare feet I'll never know, but I felt her hot breath on the nape of ma neck, bearin' down on me. I heard her body crash through the forest a few feet behind me, but she huffed like some animal, hawt on ma heels. I ran down a hillside, ma arms cuppin' the trunks of maples for balance. The downslope evened out, and without warnin', the bank of the Little Scioto river was on me. I didn't even bother changin' direction.
Lucky for me the river was overflowin' from all the April run off, or I'd have been up shits creek by then. In the summer, the Little Scioto is about four feet of water at its deepest, and about four feet of mud at the bottom. That wasn't in ma mind at the time though, and as the water swallowed me, cloggin ma ears, I could of swore I heard a snarl behind me. When I surfaced, I swam frantically to the other bank, and dared to look behind me, huffin' and sputterin' like nobody's business.
She was gone.
I have no idea why she didn't follow me into the runnin' water. Maybe she couldn't swim. Or cross it. But that be givin' into old folk tales and superstition, and I'm starter than that. Despite that, I started to keep in mind where the nearest body of runnin' water was at all times. I sure would have like some the next time we crossed paths, which unfortunately, was a lot sooner than I would have liked.
* * * * *
I didn't see her in school at all in the weeks followin' our little meetin' in the woods, and no one seemed to talk about her, like they had forgotten about her entirely. I didnt care to ask either, havin' this awful notion in ma head that if I said her name out loud, she might suddenly appear out of thin air. She had been doin enough dispearin' into it to piss off the late, great Houdini, and I think honestly I was just thankful that she was gone.
Yessiree, life had pretty much returned to normal by the time our prom rolled around on the 10th of May. I swore to maself I wasn't goin' to go, but Alli called me at the last moment askin' real nice if I wanted to go stag with her. A few hours later we watched as our classmates twirled about the dance floor in the darkened gymnasium, and drank our punch in relative silence. A banner strung from the cement wall proclaimed: "We've Got Tonight" and "Portsmouth East Class of 1996".
Alli wasn't sayin' much to me, and I was feelin' might uncomfortable. I couldn't afford a real tux, so the only thin' I had real nice to wear was ma Sunday best, reserved for Baptist revivals and such. For goin' stag, Alli was sure done up real nice, her hair all pulled up and purty like, her dress flowin' down her body like a real gentle part of the Ohio river. She asked me to dance once or twice, but I made some lame excuse about pullin' a muscle to two runnin' hell bent through the woods. It seemed like she gettin' more annoyed with me as the night crawled on.
"Why didn't you ask some guy out at Minford to go with you to prom tonight?" She suddenly turned to me and blurted out.
"Whatcha talkin' about Alli?" I said, voice breakin', fumblin' with the punch in ma hand. I guess she had pretty well figured thing's out the year prior when she noticed we were both starin' at the fourth period trig's teacher's ass.
"Red, there's a guy out at Minford, real nice, and just like ..."
"Gawd dammit Alli! I'm not a queer!" I set ma punch down and stormed outta that gymnasium, ma classmates gawkin' at me as I left. I don't think I was able to accept it back then, lookin' back on it. I was in a graduatin' class of less than fifty people, and as luck would have it, I think I was the only gay boy in the whole bunch. It wasnt sumthin' you were open to bein' about neither, as you could find yourself takin' a tire iron to the face one night, and the cops 'round these parts would just kinda shrug and laugh.
It didn't take me long to put a lot of distance between me and the prom, 'course bein' all worked up and all, I didn't really have ma head on straight, or I wouldn't have taken the tracks the back way home. One of the first things to strike folks from out of state is the fog that hangs around the hilltops here. For one, it's always here, maybe not as much in the summer, but you go walkin' about late at night and early enough in the mornin', sure enough it's like your walkin' around in a massive cloud.
But the cloud doesn't move, and it tries to get under your skin. Real creepy like.
It's so dense normally that you couldn't see two spits length in front of you, and it reeks of decay and old, overturned earth. The Appalachian's are the oldest mountains in North America, since from before the time of the great dinosaurs, and I guess sumthin that old can't help but get a little funk to it. Aside from the crunch of the granite rocks of the rail bed under ma dress shoes, and the call of the crickets and bullfrogs, it was pretty quiet in the forest. I guess I was lucky there was a full moon out that night, or else I suppose I coulda tripped in the darkness and snapped ma neck on a broken rail tie.
I walked on home, ma hands in ma pockets, still upset over what happened at the prom. I reckon I was so caught up in ma own thoughts I didn't hear the bullfrogs and crickets go dead silent. I thought the chill that bit into me was from the fog, which tried to steal the breath from your lips if you gave it half a chance. The only warnin' I got was the snap of a twig off to the woods of ma right, and she was on me.
I didn't even have time to look up at the noise before this thing came barrelin' out of the forest. I expected it to snarl, bellow, sumthin. All I heard was thump thump thump of the thing's feet hittin' the soft earth, and I was knocked off ma feet, this massive weight on top of me. The way I landed on of the rails I musta cracked ma ribs hard, 'cause the wind got knocked outa me purty good. I didn't even have time to scream before the thing sank its fang's into ma arm, and I gave out a holler, pain flarin' in the grip of the thing's razor sharp teeth.
I kicked at it, but the thing was all muscle, and I doubt it barely felt it. I grappled with the snarlin', growlin' thing, ma hands full of its soft fur for a second or two, but before I could get a good look at it, it jumped off and bounded away, back into the mists of the forest. I clutched ma arm, the jagged part of the bite bleedin' out like a broken radiator hose in ma Pa's pickup. I lurched to ma feet and ran hell bent all the way back home, as fast as ma wobbly legs could take me.
I tried to explain to ma folks what happened, but they seemed more upset about the the mess I made out of ma Sunday best, now all torn, dirty, and just a bit bloody. I guess the thing didn't nearly bite me as hard as I thought, cause when ma folks looked, there wasn't much on ma arm but a couple red scratches. I did have a couple nice lumps and bruises though, so ma folks just assumed a couple of drunk guys jumped me on the way back home and beat on me a bit. Happens sometimes 'round these parts, especially to real 'sensitive' boys like me. I didn't sleep real good that night, on account of all the weird dreams that I kept havin' throughout the night. I guess thats when the whole business with ma nightmares started.
* * * * *
Ma Ma tried to get me up the next day, but she could 'rouse me to save her life. I musta slept most of the day though, cause when I finally woke up it was about sunset. Ma whole body was athrobbin' and givin' me fits, and I started to wonder if that thing that bit me had sumthin. I tried to do some chores around ma house, but I kept losin' focus, starin' for long minutes out to the woods behind ma house. The chorus of the cicada's seemed to whisper to me, callin' me. It wasn't long after the sun set that I started gettin' this real funny feelin' all over, like my skin was tryin' to crawl off right ma bones. I didn't want ma folks makin' a fuss, cause they downright hated takin' me to the doctors, so I crept off as night fell.
I wasn't aware really of where I was headin', but I knew somewhere inside I had to hide. Somewhere dark, somewhere safe. Ma eyes itched somethin' fierce and I took 'em off for a moment, leanin' real heavy on a tree, the moon peekin' right over the hillsides to the east, right through some light clouds. When I opened ma eyes, things weren't near as fuzzy as they were before. The bones of ma face kept smartin', like the entire varsity squad had lined up and taken a cheap shot right on the bridge of ma nose.
I guess she musta been waitin' for me.
She walked out of a little stand of trees and shrubs, and it seemed like out of nowhere, naked as a jailbird. I was pretty thankful it was night, 'cause I don't think I coulda stomached the full sight of her the way ma stomach was heavin'. I tried not to stare, but in all honesty, her shape was so alien to me all it needed was to sprout a tentacle or two. I couldn't think straight, the scent of her flooded ma nostrils, and what was worse, she started smellin' more and more appealin to me with each passin' second. I tried not to gawk at her supple breasts, which looked as white as fresh snow in the moonlight, instead I stared in horror at her bloody hands.
Holdin' a dead rabbit.
I fell to ma knees, pukin' up the fried chicken ma Ma cooked for supper a few hours ago. She came closer and dropped the carcass by ma head, the thud of it hittin' the ground next to me brought up a few dry heaves.
"This is for yew ..." she said, amber eyes hopeful. When I looked up, holdin' my stomach, shakin' all over, she smiled down at me. "It's vhat mates do for each other ..."
"What ... whacha talkin about ... get away!" I said, tryin' to scramble away from her on ma hands and knees, my limbs feelin' like so much jello, the muscles jerkin', twistin' 'round me. My insides felt like there were turnin' inside out, and I didn't crawl very fast, each movement takin all ma will. She strolled after me, her pace careful; deliberate.
"I saw you vith that other female last night." She said, her voice startin' to get all rough like. "I wont let anyvone come between us ...' I guess now I finally figured out that I wasn't the rabbit after all. It was far worse than that.
She had come to lay claim to me.
"Groo awraayyy!" I growled out, ma voice no longer mine. I kept crawlin' despite the feelin' like the earth itself was one big roller coster, like the ones they had up at King's Island. My hands, changin' before ma eyes, clawed at the muddy earth. I kept tellin' myself through ma horror that this wasn't happenin'. When I looked back, the girl was gone.
But what was hulkin' over me wasn't human, it's shape distorted; fuzzy in the silver rays of the moon.
Stop fighting it. All that came out of the thing was a real low, threatin' growl, but I heard her voice in ma head, almost as if she was whisperin' straight into ma mind. It will start to feel good, I promise .... Now that was a bull faced lie if I had ever heard one, as the pain went straight down to the bone. She was right about one thing. sumthin started to course through me, almost like the feelin' I got when I stole peeks in the shower room after gym class. Ma gasps came in ragged pants, almost like I was close to beathin' maself right out of air.
"Rhat do ro wraaant from rrrre?" I tried wailin' out, ma longer jaw no longer able to form words.
To take you back home, back were we both belong. The dark woods of Austria. Back to our clan. She flipped me over on ma back, where ma shirt was splittin' wide open, but I could feel the wet grass under it through all the fur. I slashed at her with claws I didn't even know I had till then, rakin' 'em across the center of her chest, right between the furry clefts of her breasts. The rips in her flesh sealed up almost instantly, leavin' only the dark black smear of blood in the fur there. She growled low in her throat and tore into me, the white hot flare of pain archin' across ma chest like lightnin'. I knew then she was stronger than me, older, more experienced.
You can't hurt me. And I can't hurt you. Sure enough the pain that ripped across ma chest eased, left almost instantly, the flesh mendin' itself right quick. She keeled and pressed down into me, against ma shredded jeans, pinnin' ma paws with hers. I marked you last night. Your mine now. And mine alone. Forever. And ever.
She arched into me, and I felt maself slip inside deep of her. I thrashed about, tried to throw her off me. She snarled, and all I could see was a muzzle snappin' within inches of ma own, or at least what my mind would let me see, the fangs ivory white in the moonlight, spittle flyin' from 'em.
"Rooo Rooo Rooo Rooo" was all I could say as her body worked it's way into a steady, primal rhythm, more than likely older than the Appalachians 'emselves. As she rode me, pushed me into the soft, moist ground with each thrust, my mind kinda floated away. My eyes fixed 'emslves on the moonlight shinin' down through the branches of the buckeye tree above us, and all I could feel now was the rock of our bodies; a couple of buckeye nuts diggin' hard into ma back.
You think of the strangest things at the strangest times. All I could think about was the buckeye nut while my mind went elsewhere. It got its name cause I guess looks like the brown and black of a deer's eye, but I guess I never cared much 'bout that. You cant eat 'em, as even a taste of 'em is so bitter your gut instinct is to spit 'em back out. I reckon thats a good thing there, on account of 'em bein' poisonous and all. Sure saved quite a few not so bright kids like maself some major grief I'm sure.
I don't remember a whole lot after that. Mostly just starin' up at the white, prefect moon past her fur covered ears, maybe her howlin' out once or twice. I guess that why the moon aways reminds me of her.
* * * * *
I'm not sure how long I was out there, naked, roamin' about the woods before the search party found me, rantin' about things that made no sense to anybody but maself. My folks convinced 'emselves it as just more hazin', and once I got out of the shrink ward, they put me on a train and sent me up to the wilds of Minnesota. Seemed 'em doctors said I had a real time adjustin' to enclosed spaces, and the nightmares I kept havin'. They fixed me up with some pills that helped when the moon got real bright and full, and I guess I'm real grateful for that.
I tried gettin' an education while I was up here, but between ma grammar, which is so shitty it draws flies, and 'em fancy numbers I was told I had to learn, I learned right quick I just didn't have the smarts for it. My head had a lot of problems with actual numbers to begin with, let alone 'imaginary' ones. Last time I checked, 'i' was a letter anyway.
Ma freshman year I ended up givin' a guy some real nice head in his car after homecomin', but his girl wasn't too keen about that when she found out. She started followin' me around, and I guess I had all about I could take of that from Elsa. I dropped out soon after and went to work in a steel factory, sweatin' to beat sweet Jesus. Soon after I met Nathan, and I guess I couldn't have hooked up with a nicer guy. I still don't want nothin' to do with his Shetland though.
* * * * *
Ma eyes shoot open, and I'm back in ma room starin at the clock. 2:12 am. I reckon I musta dozed off or sumthin. Most of the rain has eased up, now just light drizzle outside, and Amy Lee continues to call out like a siren in the room.
Darling, theres no sense in running
You know I will find you
But sumthin is wrong. I'm cold. Very cold. I realize that Nathan isn't snorin' any more. I roll over on the bed, and reach for him. Ma hand comes back wet.
"No ... oh Gawd no ... no ..." Ma hand looks like a black smudge in the glow of the full moon that still shines through ma open window, the blinds flutterin' gently in the breeze. He's not there.
Everything is perfect now
We can live forever
Instead in the ripped, bloody sheets, I see a single wild red rose, and a decapitated rabbit. More gifts.
"Gno Gno Rno Ro Ro ..." was all I could manage to sputter out, ma cords already changin' on me, tears fillin my yellowin' eyes. And there, on the bloody, shredded pillow ...
You can't abandon me
You belong to me ...
... a single ... lone ... buckeye ...
~ Fin ~