Page 5 of Bewitched by the Werewolf (The Bewitching Hour #5)

How the fuck am I supposed to get to the coordinates if there isn’t a road leading to it?

I’ve been circling this damn forest for hours and can’t seem to find a road or path or even a clearing to somehow make my way into the middle of the forest where the coordinates lead.

I’m starting to think this is a wild goose chase that some bored basement dweller thought would be funny.

I make the turnoff to a single lane highway hoping I’ll find something there.

There are no other vehicles on the road, and I only pass one structure that looks like a long-ago abandoned gas station or auto shop.

Going slow I make sure to check every blind corner and opening in the trees.

I’m so focused on trying to find something others would consider insignificant I almost completely miss the paved road.

There are no signs, no markings, the solid white line on the shoulder doesn’t even break for the road.

“This has to be it,” I say to myself, because I’m “crazy.” So why not add talking to myself to the list?

I turn down the road and start making my way into the forest. My map on my cellphone shows no road and that I’m just driving through wilderness. This has to be the right way.

The road is paved, with no potholes or obstructions, but there are no lane markings no mile markers.

Nothing. Just a blank single car wide road leading nowhere.

Well, I hope it’s not leading me nowhere.

I hope to find something at the end of this rainbow.

Possibly the pot of gold I’ve been chasing after for nearly twenty years.

My pace is slow to ensure I don’t miss another turn off or hit a wild animal who doesn’t realize this is a road with cars that drive on it.

Luckily, Bambi doesn’t leap out in front of me.

I must be driving for at least half an hour before the road curves and widens, then another few miles before the trees start to thin out and signs of civilization begin to appear.

White and yellow lines appear on the now proper road. The shoulder widens and after one more bend a sign appears. I stop to stare up at it.

Welcome to Snowberry.

That’s it. No population count, no cheesy town motto, no established in 1943.

Just a simple green sign with white lettering that if seen from afar might blend in with the trees around it.

It’s clean and maintained though. Not the type of sign you would expect to find deep in the forest. I would expect it to be rotted and covered with moss and grime, partially split and hanging on by one side. But it’s in pristine condition.

“Snowberry huh? What kind of town would be way out here?”

One hopefully filled with werewolves. I press the gas and head onward, and just when I expect the sign is a diversion, a building appears.

A gas station from the looks of it, and there’s people.

A man in blue coveralls walks out of the garage wiping his hands on a rag that he sticks in his back pocket.

As I get closer, I realize the street is coming to an intersection, and there are other buildings beyond the gas station.

I debate stopping at the gas station to get information or not.

Depending on the locals it could be a bad idea or a good one.

From the colorful sign and casual demeanor of the workers, I figure the locals could be friendly.

Pulling into the gas station I pull up to an empty pump, figuring I might as well top off while I’m here.

Really sell my story. Now should I go lost tourist or I’m right where I’m supposed to be?

Looking out past the gas station to the quaint little town beyond, my first instinct is lost tourist. But if this town is hiding what I think it is, they might not like lost tourists.

I think my best bet would be to act as if I’m supposed to be here but it’s my first time.

Invited by a local perhaps? If people think I know someone in town there more likely to talk to me than if I were an outsider waltzing in unannounced.

A bell rings when I pull up to the pump and an attendant appears from the little shop attached the open garage.

A cute guy who looks a little younger than me with dirty blonde hair that sticks out in all directions, most likely due to him running his hands through it haphazardly, jogs over and smiles a golden retriever grin that tells me he is just as sweet and innocent as a puppy dog. This kid will be putty in my hands.

“Hi. How can I help ya today?”

The boys smile never falls and he leans his forearm on my open window frame. The patch on his coveralls read Luca, so I’m assuming that’s his name. There’s nothing outright unusual about Luca, he could be any other guy working at any gas station.

“Hi there,” I lay on the sweetness and smile bright at him. “Could you fill’er up please?”

“Of course.”

Luca nods and pulls his arm from my window, lifting the gas nozzle from the holster he stretches it to reach the truck. I let him get it in place before stepping out to get the information I’m looking for. It usually makes it easier to get info from a male when they can see my boobs.

I stretch as if I’ve been driving a long distance, which I have so they stretch feels great. I notice Luca glance at me, so far so good.

“This is my first time in town, could you point me in the direction that I could park my trailer? I’d like to get settled in before dark.” I top of my request with the sweetest expression I can manage, which I’ve been told is quite convincing.

Luca doesn’t even blink at my request and answers without hesitation. “Oh sure, there’s a campground by the lake. Just take a left at the intersection here and that’ll lead you straight to the lake. You can’t miss it.”

“Oh, that’s great, thank you so much. I’ve been driving for hours, and I can’t wait to finally relax and get something to eat. Any suggestions?” I tilt my head and cock my hip like an innocent cheerleader hoping my naive act works.

“ Dottie’s is the place to go. You’re gonna pass right by it on your way to the lake. There’s a large neon sign, it’s pretty obvious.”

“ Dottie’s huh?”

“Yeah. It’s pretty much the only restaurant in town besides Morning Star Cafe , but they’re not open for dinner.” He chuckles and checks on the gas pump, watching the numbers turn over in the old-fashioned analog dial.

“I’ll make sure to check it out tonight then, thank you.” I give Luca my sweetest most appreciative smile.

“You’re welcome.” He nods his head and removes the nozzle from my truck and replaces it in its cradle.

I try to flirt a little more while I pay with cash, their preferred method, but it doesn’t seem to work as well as it usually does.

He’s polite and cordial but his gaze doesn’t linger, and he doesn’t ask for my number or ask to meet me later, like some guys would.

I take the small win of getting directions and making myself appear to be here on purpose, and head in the direction he indicated.

As soon as I turn left at the intersection, I’m on what I assume is the main street of town, where all the action happens.

There isn’t even a stop light, just the stop sign.

The buildings line either side of the street, built of brick and stone in that midwestern small town kind of way.

Most are butted up against the next, a few are free standing.

Wooden carved signs hang on poles and in display windows.

It looks like there’s one of everything you could need.

Expect a bar. I’m gonna have to investigate that further if I’m going to be stuck in this tiny town for any amount of time.

Just like Luca said there’s a bright pink neon sign on the corner announcing Dottie’s Drive-In Diner.

It looks pulled straight out of 1952. I roll to a stop at the second stop sign and spot the sign indicating Blue Agate Lake straight ahead.

I don’t immediately head on, wanting to get a lay of the land first. So, instead of going straight, I turn right where I see more shops and people.

I guess their main street is two streets. Two very short streets.

I look in through the window to Dottie’s as I roll by.

Everyone inside looks pretty normal. People are dressed in modern clothing, using cell phones.

No one looks out of date or backwater creepy.

There’s a coffee shop across the street and I thank the coffee gods because that is one thing I cannot live without.

Continuing on I also spot a bar that is not open yet since it’s still midafternoon.

There’s a number of people out walking around, entering shops carrying small canvas tote bags.

I check them out as well as I go, hoping to spot something strange and unusual that might indicate werewolf.

Most werewolves, when in their human skin, look just like everyone else.

It’s hard to tell the difference. I’ve learned to look for eye discoloration, as well as elongated canine teeth, excess body hair though that can be normal for some people.

It’s not so much in the appearance as it is the behavior when in human form.

Aggression, agitation, abnormal habit of sniffing things and people.

I’ve been told by a few other paranormal hunters they believe that even in their human form werewolves could have claws.

Again, not helpful, since many people get their nails done in strange ways including long pointed claws.

I don’t see any of the physical indicators of werewolves but that by no means denotes the lack of werewolves in this town.

They could just be better at hiding it than those who have been spotted before.

I was pretty sure a few times I spotted one mid transformation but couldn’t get evidence of such.

This town is my last chance to prove what I saw all those years ago was real.

My last chance to prove to myself I’m not crazy.

When I get to another street, I make another right and figure it’s not much of a stretch that if I make two more rights I’ll end up right where I started. I pass the fire station, city hall, a dentist. Nothing out of the ordinary. It all looks very average if quaint.

Just as I predicted, two turns later, I’m right back in front of Dottie’s .

This time I do go straight towards the lake, passing a motel on my left that I note a few cars in the parking lot.

Usually unknown towns, even ones on the map, don’t have very active motels.

This one seems to be well maintained and have half their rooms occupied.

Why would a town not on any map, with no stop lights, be so well maintained and occupied?

There is definitely something going on in this town and if it has anything to do with werewolves, I’m going to find out.

After only a minute of driving I see the lake appear ahead of me.

There are some houses lining one side of the lake, some on stilts right over the water.

To the other side is what looks like a public park and camping area.

One RV already parked in a slip, their awning extended, and patio furniture placed underneath with a bar-be-cue nearby.

I spot an elderly gentleman exiting as I pass.

In small town fashion he smiles and waves as if we’ve known each other our whole lives.

Small towns creep me out. Maybe it has to do with all the neighborly love or lack of personal space, either way it’s weird.

I plaster on the same sickly-sweet smile I gave Luca at the gas station and wave back.

It’s always best to befriend the locals.

They’re less likely to call the cops on you that way.

Huh. I don’t recall seeing a police station. Maybe this town is too small to have cops. Wouldn’t that be great?

I find a spot as far from others as I can.

It backs up to the forest and is the last in the row of camping areas.

The houses are on the opposite side of the lake and beyond the camping area is just beach and woods.

Perfect. Unlike others I park my trailer with the door facing the woods.

Anything I’m looking for won’t be in the water.

I want to have a direct path to the woods when I go out at night.

Once I’ve parked and unhooked my trailer I get set up with my internet and exterior cameras.

Checking on the equipment I’ll be installing in the woods for surveillance.

Night vision motion sensor cameras mostly.

All of which I can bring up on my phone at any given moment.

I love technology. It’s made the paranormal hunting game more advanced beyond grainy wobbly recordings and blurred polaroids.

If I catch anything on camera, that shit is going to be in 4k high def.

There will be no question as to what you’re looking at.

I stare out the window into the trees and bushes beyond. Just another unassuming national forest with a hidden town inside it. Whatever secrets it has, I’ll pry them out with a crowbar.