"Hey, I'm close to where reception stops so, I thought I'd call and let you know I'm here. I know you're in court, so I'll make this quick, I'll see you in a week, I'll call again when I'm on my way back thanks for watching my place for me. Bye for now." I say into my bestie's voicemail, I know he's in court helping another victim out, so I try to keep it short and informative in respect. This world sucks, so much hate and violence, I hope his victim gets what they need to stay safe.
I consider it a miracle that Levi and I even found each other in a world like this, but we have been besties now for 15 years. Both soft, sensitive, happy souls who just have never really fit in anywhere or with anyone before. I often call him my big brother, my twin, he's not, but he is. I know he'll worry about me being safe, I don't normally go off on my own to some remote cut-off places in the wilderness, but I need this, so he's supporting it and watching my plants while I'm away.
I booked myself a week's stay at a private yurt in the Cascades in Washington. It's a simple yurt; one room with a vinyl covered foam bunk to sleep on, a small kitchenette against the back wall, and a door on the side that opens to a small simple bathroom. Located in some of the most gorgeous mountains I've seen in the United States, complete with a rainforest and waterfalls that make you feel as if in another world entirely.
I wanted to immerse myself in nature, to tap into its sights, sounds, and emotions, seeking inspiration for my upcoming short erotic novel featuring the Sasquatch. Of course, I know they're not real, but I'm a writer who draws heavily from emotions and personal experiences so that I write stories with a real authenticity to relate to. So, while I can't obtain real experience of the beast itself, I can at least gain some connection to the other subject matter in the background, the forest my story takes part in.
As I settle in, I unpack and set up the fairly empty space inside the yurt with my laptop, several notebooks and my pencil bag of supplies. I also pull out bedding I've packed so I can keep comfy, extra clothes, chargers, books to read, and my camera equipment. Little known fact, I used to be a pro photographer, small time but I now only do it as a hobby a few times a year. Some hobbies shouldn't be turned into a career, this is true, but some work well. In my case, writing has been great for me, while photography gave me several years of hardship and in the end, I lost a lot of the passion I once held for it.
I string up some lights I brought with me and a few personal decor touches to help the space feel like a sanctuary I can really write in. By the time the sun is going down my rental yurt almost resembles a bedroom. I also take a shower and put on my nightgown, before I then pull out the packed dinner I brought and begin to eat. I have food with me to cook the rest of the week, but for the first night I packed a takeout order from a local sushi hot spot and kept it chilled in my cooler. Sushi is a pleasure of mine.
The first night went by as I expected it would. With a full belly of yummy sushi, a couple of rum and pineapple juice drinks, warming me up from the inside, and a good glass pipe to toke from. I've outlined what I want included in my story of seducing the forest behemoth... including a list of different terms I want to use for descriptions. like terms for Big Foot, or for a pussy or a cock. People are so picky and preferable over how an author refers to certain things, so much so they will troll and shame a book if they don't like how the author called a cock, a rod or perhaps a meat rocket, I have seen some questionable terms myself. Personally, I do it on purpose and laugh my ass off as I do, hence the preset list, I put real effort into it.
I wonder what kind of sexual equipment my beast will have. Not like their real and I can ask, so how should I imagine it up? Should there be more than one? Should it be a primal kind, or alien? I decide for now to go with a more primal knotted cock, based on conspiracy research over Big Foot's anatomy. It's a forest dweller, covered in hair and very large in size. Reminds me a bit of a monster alpha from one of my omegaverse books. I like how those beast's fuck.
I often find myself working late into the night, but now that I'm 42, I get tired much earlier than I used to. I used to stay up until 2 or even 3 AM, but these days, 11 PM feels like a stretch. It's midnight now, and I've been working for hours. My eyes are scratchy and so heavy. I set aside my work and head to the bathroom, tying up my hair, going through my oral care routine (which I'd rather not get into), and then moving on to washing my face and finally, settling into bed. It's maybe twenty minutes later when I hear sounds outside, almost like steps walking away from my yurt and into the trees beyond. It even sounds like someone pushes through the leaves of the tree at least eight feet off the ground, there is no wind tonight, but they'd have to be very tall to do that, so maybe it's a wild animal climbing up the trunk. I should watch out for myself, just in case.
The next day, it's a bit cold out so I bundle up and take a hike through the woods. Feeling and smelling all the different plants, trees, and ground, trying to feel a connection with the place and pick up on sensory details to use in my story. But after a while, I start to get too cold and decide to head back. Only thing is, I stupidly lost my line of sight and don't know the area well enough to not feel completely lost. I try to retrace myself but at some point, I must have wondered mindlessly in other directions that made it hard to find the yurt site.
Luckily, I notice a boulder sitting in front of a large rockface. Must have been where the boulder came from, a break off? I see my gloves are laying nicely on its top, bright red and almost as if placed there on purpose for my attention, but I'm pretty sure one of the reasons I'm so cold is because I had realized I left my gloves on my bed, so how? Well, I did just fuck myself over in walking mindlessly and getting lost, so I bet it's a similar situation.
I put my gloves on and climb the boulder, standing much taller now, I scan my surroundings and see a post with a flag on it. That's the post that marks my yurt for those on the road, driving up. The forest is really dense here, so the flag helps to guide renters in. I didn't realize I was so close to the driveway. I head that way and not long after I'm at the door, letting myself in. Later that night, I hear the same sounds as the night before. Is a wild animal stalking me?
The next day I sleep in a little, hearing those noises and overthinking what they are, had me up a bit late, but I'm on my own clock so it's no biggie. Today, I go for another walk, this time doing better to keep track of where I am, but I discover a creek running through the forest and decide to picnic there for lunch, watching the waters sluice over rocks and wood sitting in the creek bed. Once in a while, a fish swims through. I thought I heard some splashing a way off to my side, and I worry about that being my wild stalker, is it feeding? Can I feel safe tonight knowing it's full of fish, and maybe will leave me alone?
No, it didn't.
Because the same noises wake me again, but this time their worse. It's almost as if the beast is pacing my yurt now, looking for a weak spot, maybe? I barely get any sleep that night, but eventually I do doze off, because later in the morning I wake startled by the sunlight. Realizing right away that I had fallen asleep. However, I'm safe, I seem totally fine. The yurt untouched. So, I decide that today I'm going to investigate and figure out what is hunting me, if it's hunting me.
Maybe I'm safe in the day because it hibernates then, so I look around. But I see no tracks. There's a bit of fur, but that tells me nothing. I search in the wooded area right around the yurt moving further and further away as I do. I see something shiny that draws my attention in the distance. I rush to it, pushing down the trail and getting closer to the creekbed, while even father from the yurt.
"Fuck!" I tripped on a root and fell, scraping my face and chest as I crashed through the underbrush. But it's my knee that's taken the worst of it, and I notice that right away by the sheer pain throbbing through me now - I have a bad knee, it's weak from past injuries and surgeries, so taking on even more injury is very dangerous for me. I try to be really careful with it, but I admit I got distracted and made poor choices.
Carefully righting myself, I pull up my pantleg and assess my injuries. I see that my knee is already red, swollen, and bruised, with blood oozing from the wound. I can feel emotions wanting to bubble up because of it, but I need to control that. I'm alone, no help nearby, I need to care for myself. If I let panic or anxiety take over, I risk complicating the injury and even developing a fever. I've been a patient long enough in my real life to know some level of nursing skills. So, I take a deep breath and focus on centering myself, trying to think clearly and come up with a plan.
"Ok, I need to get myself up, get to the yurt carefully, and work on cleaning and tending to this before anything else. I can pick up any mess I've made later. I can let myself feel what I know I feel, later. For now, I need to power through and get myself stable. Let's go, Elly. You know you can do this!" I tell myself. I'm used to tending to my injuries on my own, so I try to boost myself by reminding me how strong I can be and willing myself forward into action. Sometimes giving a self-peptalk out loud overrides the panic in my head, so I use whatever tools I have to help myself.
I try several times to get up and take a step, to move in some way towards the yurt. I try butt scooting, hip walking, regular walking, but the pain is so high I can't gain composure over it enough to get the adrenaline I need to move. Now, I start to panic a little. It's springtime, but in the Cascades it can get really chilly out, so I hate it, but I have to remove my shirt and try to stop the bleeding here, risking hypothermia. Dabbing and working to clear the site a little, so I can assess the damage more, I grow a concern that in falling something stabbed through me, it's not just scraping my knee really bad, I think I stabbed myself with the forest floor. I look around and see the broken branch covered in blood and the small puddle below it.
That's why the pain is too high to move.
Putting pressure on my knee I try to come up with a new plan. Sometimes I get spotty reception, so I have been keeping my phone on me for emergencies. I pull it out and try to get a call out for help, but the reception just isn't there. Suddenly I hear trees rustling. Shit! Is that my wild stalker? Does it smell my blood?
It's getting closer, and the closer it gets... the more I start to also hear heavy footfalls. It's a big stalker.
In scary movies, I could never understand the characters who closed their eyes or pulled a blanket over their head when a scary evil thing came at them. I mean, how does closing off your senses make you feel safe when in danger? I look everywhere, searching for the owner of the sounds, looking for all the information I can gather to help me survive, to fight if I have to. I also pull out my tactical knife that I keep hidden in my waistline. I bought it a couple years ago to keep me safe when I was going on dates, just in case. It's become so natural for me to have it near, that I chose to bring it with on this trip. Weapons like her deserve warrior names, for that I named her V, which is short for 'I will rain a heavy level of Violence down on your head if you compromise my motherfucking safety, asshole.' She's my second bestie. I pull her out and scan the trees, looking for my stalker.
