Page 8 of Grotesque

I pressed my fingers against my temples as I told him about the moths. “They’re native to Africa and some parts of Europe. I know how crazy this sounds, but there is no way that many death’s-head moths could have been there.”

“And it wasn’t a dream?” It didn’t sound condescending when he asked, but I couldn’t stop myself from bristling.

“It wasn’t. I touched one. I just,” I shook my head, “I don’t know. I went to the library today to try and find any history on the house but all the lady told me was ghost stories.”

Quint took a sip of his coffee. “Not gonna lie, when you said you moved here, I didn’t expect you to be living in Glamis Manor.

Hell, anywhere but that place. I know the stories she’s talking about, most of Bristol does.

But,” he paused, leaning forward until I met his gaze, “I don’t think you’re crazy. ”

I huffed. “You’re just saying that.”

“I’m not. A few years back me and some of my buddies went up there. I guess it would have been your grandmother I saw, Maxine, you look a lot like her from what I remember of her. She was sitting on the front porch reading a book.”

I watched syrup drip off the chicken on my plate, pooling on the waffles stacked beneath. I wasn’t sure what to make of that comment.

“A man, or what I thought was a man, walked out of the house. I don’t know if what I saw was real, your mind plays tricks on you when you’re scared, but he had big horns coming out of his head. He walked right over to her and kissed her on top of the head.”

My fork clattered across my plate as I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Great, he was making fun of me.

“I swear, the five of us were hiding in the woods, but when he looked up, I could feel him looking at us. I’m not saying this to try and spook you further, but we saw that and ran. I’ve never been back.”

“Don’t play with me.”

Quint held up his hands. “Honest to God.”

“You’re telling me the vampire story is real?”

Quint shrugged. “I don’t know what he was, but it wasn’t Halloween, you feel me? Everyone that’s been to Glamis and survived has a different story. Three of the other guys saw it, but Jeremy swears he never saw a thing. I think he tells us that as much as himself though, to try and forget.”

I swallowed and asked the question that had been at the back of my mind since the library. “How many people have died at Glamis?”

Quint winced. “At least one or two a year go missing from the town. Sometimes there’s a body, other times,” he trailed off and took a sip of his coffee.

I stared at him. I slowly shut my jaw, which had dropped open at his response. “And no one has ever investigated that?” This was insane. Glamis, Macky, Rosaline, the town. It was all sheer madness. I couldn’t wrap my mind around any of it.

He shrugged. “This town has been around long enough to believe in curses. People that believe in curses don’t want anything to do with them.”

We ate in silence after that. No doubt he was trying to process what I’d said as much as I was trying to untangle everything I’d learned today.

Maybe I should tell mom what was going on. She would know her own mother better than anyone else. Wait, wouldn’t Mom have lived in the house at some point?

I’d get to that later.

I stuffed the last bite of chicken into my mouth. “It’s gotta be the land. Some sort of toxin buried in the ground.”

“Maybe. Your best bet would be to get someone from out of town to come in and test it, because no one local will. I know you just moved but, do you have anywhere else you can stay in the meantime?”

“No. And I have to live there for a year anyways.”

“Why?”

“Because otherwise I don’t get to keep the house.” I wasn’t fool enough to tell him about the money I’d come into. People were killed for less, though Quint didn’t peg me as the murdering type. Ted Bundy was a real gentleman too, though.

“Sheesh,” he mumbled.

“I know.” I leaned back in the booth. “Thanks for listening. Again, I know I sound nuts, but…thanks.”

“You don’t sound nuts. Ok, maybe a little, but seeing a bunch of moths is the least scary story I’ve heard coming out of that place.” Quint reached across the table and nudged my hand. His smile was infectious, and I couldn’t stop my own when my eyes met his.

I wondered if everyone else’s experiences had started off small. “I guess you’re right.”

We walked back to my car. It was chilly by the water. I wasn’t used to the crisp air and would need to buy warmer clothes for the winter months to come. I stuffed my hands in my pockets to try and retain the little bit of heat I had left in them.

I looked up into Quint’s honey brown eyes.

“If you need anything, I’m a phone call away,” he said.

I ducked my head, suddenly feeling shy with the way he was looking at me. “Thanks.” I chewed the inside of my lip. “For listening, and for believing me.”

“Of course.” He held out his arm. I propelled myself forward into the side hug and allowed myself to hold onto him a little longer than necessary. “Text me when you get in?”

“Sure thing.” I smiled, turning back to my car. As soon as it was running, I cranked the heat all the way up.

I was still smiling as I drove away, but it faded as I caught sight of Quint in the mirror. His own smile was gone, replaced with a grimace. Worried. He looked worried.