Hermit cryptobiologist hides a couple of big secrets deep in the forest - The Witch Of The Woods is a new story that is a part of a larger universe I'll be writing from now on. This one might fit into the urban fantasy genre, but because of my disrespect to genre boundaries it might very well cross into other genres as well, whenever I feel like it. It's going to have lots of sex of different kinds, so buckle up! All characters are 18+.
xoxo,
Cy~
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Chapter 1
"Rub that into your knees, once a day, teaspoonful each - and you'll be dancing in a week, that's a promise. Will work on your other joints too, if you're wondering."
Old man Tanner clutched the jar with thick green creme and pressed it to his chest.
"Bless your heart, Doc, you're good people!"
Christine chuckled.
"Don't tell Reverend Barlow that, he'll have you burned at the stake."
"Oh, that sonuvabitch can stick his opinion up his self-righteous bum! What do I owe ya for this?"
"That's a gift, Garreth," she smiled and got behind the wheel of her gunmetal Mustang. A hundred yards away she still saw Tanner in the rearview, waving, his lips moving saying words of gratitude. She sighed - a simple joint-healing concoction was the least she could do for her favorite butcher, who sold her his best cuts with an outrageous discount.
Aldi's parking lot was nearly empty, so she parked near the entrance, grabbed a cart and walked in, cool air a stark contrast after melting asphalt outside, overheated in the afternoon sun. Her nipples instantly hardened, poking through the fabric of her dress, unrestrained by any underwear, and she shivered at the sensation.
"Hey, girl, you cold or just happy to see me?" She heard from her right, and turned to face Connie, the plump and friendly middle-aged woman. Connie has been a cashier in the old supermarket before Aldi bought it out, now she was also a shift manager.
"Both," Christine grinned. "How have you been, Connie?"
Women hugged, but Connie's face went sour at the question.
"Oh, you know... men are pigs, MAGA men even more so..."
"It didn't work out with whats-his-name, did it? This can't go on like this, girl," Christine shook her head. "Remind me to hook you up with someone decent."
"I'd be forever indebted to you if you do!" Connie put her hands up in a praying gesture.
"Oh, what's a small favor between friends," Christine waved dismissively and smiled, heading down to the aisles.
She did a slow and meticulous sweep of all and every aisle. Filling her cart with groceries as she went, she realized how long it has been since her last visit to Caldwell - she ran out of nearly everything.
Keeping distance for privacy reasons has its cons too.
She pushed the overflowing cart back to the checkout and started unloading everything onto the belt, engaging in small talk with Connie.
Automatic doors opened, letting through a lanky old man with a facial expression of dignified anger, dressed in black head to toe despite the heatwave. Cute young girl he was pulling by her hand after him wore a nice frilly yellow sundress and sandals.
"Oh, hello, Reverend. Hi, Peggy," Christine greeted the pair, smiling.
Seeing her, Jack Barlow stopped dead in his tracks and lifted up his right hand.
"Begone, you Jezebel!" He bellowed. "Keep your filthy hands off the virgin youth!"
He darted towards the aisles even faster than before, pulling his daughter after him, Peggy silently throwing Christine simultaneously a pleading and an apologizing look.
"Well, that escalated quickly, didn't even take a minute to call you a whore," Connie chuckled and raised her brows.
"Eh, I've been called much worse in my lifetime," Christine grinned. "He ain't the first, he most certainly won't be the last. Men are pigs."
Most of them, anyway.
"Amen, sister!" Connie sighed. "And that poor girl of his? Would be a real shame if hormones destroy her beauty before someone finally plucks that cherry..."
Christine pushed the cart with bagged groceries out, popped Mustang's trunk and began loading plastic bags near paper ones she got at Tanner's. The trunk ended up full.
Gods, do I eat that much? Must be boredom.
"Reverend give you shit again, Doc?" She heard a beautiful voice with a bit of southern drawl. Christine slammed the trunk closed and turned. Donna Sanders, tall and curvy blonde, was leaning on the hood of a police car, dusting off her badge.
"Hello, sheriff," Christine smiled and sauntered to her with a slight sway in her hips, hands behind her back. "Long time no see."
Donna pointendly wasn't looking her in the eyes.
"Missed me much?" She asked.
"I did. It's almost like you're avoiding me for some reason," Christine intoned in a playful pouty voice. "You should come down some time, for a barbecue, or... maybe even out that tan of yours before the summer is over."
"I- Um..." Donna gulped and stepped closer, surreptitiously running a finger along Christine's arm. "Listen, Chris, I was meaning to talk to you, but with this abduction business..."
"What abduction?" Christine frowned and cocked her head to the side.
"You haven't heard? Alice Dougherty, 19 year old, back home after her freshman year in college, taken right from her bedroom at night, no trace," Donna sighed. "Been two days already."
"I haven't been to town in a couple... Feds here?"
"Yeah. Think it's a serial. I've seen their faces today at the briefing, they think it's already too late."
Fuck.
"Here," Donna reached into the car and pulled out a missing person poster with Alice's photo. "Maybe you can help."
It was the first time she dared to look Christine in the eyes - and hers were pained and apologetic. She quickly turned away and put her sunglasses on.
"Gotta go, Doc. Sorry," Donna pushed past Christine and got into her car.
"I'll come by when it's over, I promise," she said, still not looking at her. Sheriff's cruiser left the parking lot, raising clouds of hot dust in the direction of downtown.
Christine got into Mustang and sat in silence for a minute, looking at the poster with the smiling girl with raven-black hair, photo most likely taken from her 'Gram.
Cute girl. Parents are probably desperate.
"Let's go home," she said. The Mustang roared and started off the parking lot, heading out of town.
-//-
She was counting miles and looking out of the window, but kept her hand on the wheel, pretending to drive in case anybody saw her.
Town ended abruptly. One minute she was watching dilapidated sheds and warehouses fly by, the next mixed forest surrounded the interstate, canopies touching above the road, nearly blocking sunlight. The Mustang dove off the road to the right, onto the inconspicuous gravel lane, mostly hidden from both sides by tall undergrowth. Several hundred yards later down the winding road the car stopped in the middle of a perfectly round clearing with no other paths out.
Christine stepped out, looked around and patted the car on the roof.
"Clear."
The Mustang dissolved into the cloud of dark mist, her bags with food floating inside. Christine turned to the bushes at the far side of the clearing and willed the path to open, heading down the slope. The cloud followed.
They traveled down the trail in silence for several minutes, until the mist finally spoke.
"
You knew this was going to happen. It pains her to be around you - a constant reminder of her fleeting beauty and short lifespan.
"
The voice was deep, with a resonating echo, like a reverberation inside a huge steel tank. It was coming from somewhere inside the cloud, shifting position intermittently.
"I know, Shade. It doesn't make this any easier," she responded glumly.
"
You'll get over it in a hundred years or so. Right now, there are more pressing matters.
"
"Like what?"
