Page 2 of Terrible Desires (Loving Monsters #8)
With my key in hand, I make my way through the recreational areas of the bed-and-breakfast, past a simple but colorful children’s playground, a crystal-clear pool, a well-maintained green for lawn bowls, and an area reserved for caravans and tents. On my way I pass the first twelve log cabins. Each one is picturesque and spaced nicely, as to offer peace and privacy to its tenants. But before long, I run out of ridge, and I’m trekking my way down a rather steep but verdant embankment that leads to the river.
“Oh, my God,” I say under my breath as I readjust my bag and allow myself to drink in the scenery. The river is just beautiful. Its fast-flowing waters are lined on either side by lush green banks, and rocky shores that spread back into the Red Pine Ridge Forest. The forest is positively ancient, and the further I walk, the more I realize just how untouched some areas of nature still are. Aside from the rough trail upon which I walk, you’d never guess people had set foot on this land.
I walk for a solid half hour, following the winding trail by the river, until Cabin Thirteen comes into view. It’s every bit as lovely as the others, only much, much more secluded. From my vantage point as I approach, I spy a bridge a little ways down the shore that spans the river, allowing visitors to trek into the pristine wilderness beyond. I’m definitely going to have to check that out once I’m settled in!
Slipping my key into the lock, I swing open the red wooden door and inhale deeply. The cabin smells of aged pine and roasted coffee. Closing the door behind me, I carry my bag in and explore my home for the night. It’s quaint, cozy, comfortable, and clearly designed with a couple in mind, rather than a whole family. It’s small, but open plan, and a fireplace features predominantly against one wall, while a small kitchenette and bathroom feature to the rear of the space.
“Perfect.” I grin to myself and put my bag down on the bed. It occupies the central space below one of the large windows that overlook the river. The views are breathtaking, and I can’t help the feeling of excitement welling within me. I throw myself back onto the mattress and rest my hands under my head. This is exactly what I needed . I can scarcely contain myself and begin unpacking immediately.
By the time I’ve popped my toiletries in the bathroom, stashed my snacks in the kitchenette, and popped my book on the nightstand, I’m edgy with cabin fever. The great outdoors beyond the pine log walls of my home-away-from-home call to me. The afternoon is gray but begs me to go and explore—and so I do. Abandoning the cabin, I leave everything behind but my phone and venture outside, the river pebbles crunching satisfyingly underfoot.
The scent of the forest is invigorating, and I readjust my scarf as I cross the bridge, stopping in the middle to take photos directly up and down river. “Beautiful.” There’s just something deeply primal and cathartic about being so close to a body of water. It’s grounding and soothing, and I have no doubt I’ll sleep like a baby tonight … lulled by the river as she runs by my cabin when I’m full of hot chocolate and drunk on words.
With a bounce in my step, I reach the other side and take a moment to just gaze into the depths of the forest. Everything is so lush and verdant, from the moss covering the stones, to tips of the tallest pine trees. Ferns and lilies grow in abundance, and every possible bark or stone-laden surface is covered in lichen.
Within the tree line I notice a distinct absence of light. A plethora of shadows stretch over the undergrowth as the sun tries in vain to piece the thick canopy on an already overcast autumn afternoon. But there’s still more than enough ambient light by which to see, plus, I have my phone with me if I catch myself out after dark. The flashlight on my cell never ceases to come in handy, whether I’m looking for my keys or stumbling to the bathroom in the middle of the night, it’s a lifesaver.
With the light slowly fading and my spirits high, I start down an earthen trail that leads into the forest. This is the Halloween I’m talking about! Peace, nature, fresh air, and a warm bed to return home to. Snapping photos as I go, I admire the play of light on the foliage, the adorable and unique fungi, and how the whole forest seems like a world of its own. It’s a green kingdom sheltered from the modern world—from humanity’s filth and pollution.
The landscape seems so virginal and untouched. Here, beneath the ancient pines, the ferns become trees, soon towering above me as I follow the trail. Lost in the enchanting beauty of the forest, I come to realize I’m no longer on the well-trodden path. My brows furrow and I spin in a hesitant circle, turning on the light on my cell, holding it before me to cast it’s luminescence ahead. The forest seems strangely silent and menacingly dark. I take a deep, steadying breath as I close my eyes and listen. My heart skips with uncertainty as fear permeates my consciousness, infiltrating my mind like a worm burrowing into a rotted apple.
I can’t hear the river at all. How far could I have walked? Chewing on my lower lip, I check the time and my stomach lurches and I almost stumble over my own feet. “How is that possible?” It’s after midnight. How did I lose eight hours? It’s only then that I notice the blood on my hands, the scratches… Allowing my gaze to drop further, I swallow hard as I take in the sight of my shredded jeans. My mind reels and I don’t understand. What I’m seeing doesn’t make any sense. My heart fills with dread and starts to race as ice slithers up my spine.
What the fuck!