What if I told you the monsters under you bed were real. The moth man and the werewolves; the evil spirits and the ghosts. They hide away in the woods flowing steadily into our dimension. Though some get restless. Sick of the shadows an army will ar...
The morning air was stiff and humid. It hung around the house as an impatient weight. Cort had always been an early riser, and as soon as the sun rose at five am, she was awake. She lay in her bed for another thirty minutes, trying to get in some extra z's before rolling out of bed and flopping down in her desk chair. The desk was littered with papers and strange objects. Sketching pencils lay across a thick sketchbook, covering notes and a sketch of Gilbert the strange lycanthrope. Being too lazy to put her contacts in, she grabbed her pair of horn-rimmed glasses and pushed them onto her face. She flicked the pencils off her sketchbook and closed it heavily, watching the small particles of pencil shavings swoosh away. Chucking the sketchbook aside she lifted up the CD case. She stretched before fighting her way over a pile of m&m packets and a stack of clothing, to the door. Closing it silently behind her, she then slipped quietly down the stairs and out the door, grabbing her father's car keys as she went.
The sun was rising; slowly spreading light across the horizon, as Cort stopped to stand in the damp grass that tickled her toes and gave her arms goosebumps. Looking tiredly at her father's unadorned pickup truck, she lifted her feet from the grass and walked to the dirt-covered vehicle, the moist scent of damp undergrowth filling her nostrils. She hopped in and turned the car on. Music blasted from the speakers and Cort hurriedly turned it down. Eyeing the player, she slid the CD out of its case and into the car. A muffled scratching sound spewed into Cort's ears then suddenly a clear robotic voice began to speak. The harsh words spilled out of the speakers, foreign and strange. It droned on for a minute before the scratching sound started again, and the voice continued. Cort sat in the car, listening to the voice over and over. The same words, layering the thick humid air with a feeling of frail fear. Suddenly there was a tap at the window, making Cort jump out of her skin (not literally of course). She quickly got the CD out of the player and turned to see her father.
"Hey, dad." She sang, popping the door open and tucking the CD away.
"Hey, bigfoot. What are you doing out here?" He asked, closing the car door.
"A friend made me a CD. But it was just a prank. Filled with... weird noises?" Cort questioned herself, still trying to make sense of it and beginning to walk back to the house.
"I made french toast for you," Her father said as he put his name pin on. The name, Aspen Brown, printed across it. "But I won't be able to stay. I've got a meeting." Cort walked back to her father and gave him a big hug.
"Okay, Yowie. I'll see you tonight." He hugged her back.
"I'll see you then." Cort then made her way back to the house, then into the kitchen where a pile of french toast waited for her on the counter. She ate in silence.
***
The sky was light, and Nick knew he needed to stop soon. His travels had been laborious, and his moves watched from every single crack in the trees. He couldn't sleep, for they would kill him. So he continued on, he had seen a sign a while back pointing towards a town. He breathed heavily, ignoring the pain from his cut which sank deep into his upper arm, bleeding through the roughly done up bandage. Only forty minutes to go.
***
It was around lunchtime that Cort decided to get out of the house. She collected up her canvas backpack and filled it with basic needs. A flashlight; two disposable cameras; a digital thermometer; a voice recorder; an EMF reader; a Swiss army knife; her sketchbook and a pencil case. Most of the gear was for ghosts, because, man, she didn't wanna get one of those mad again. She did the buckles on her bag and left, grabbing some snacks and her water bottle on the way out.
Camping with her father when she was younger was one of Cort's fondest memories. It was also when they discovered the monsters in the forest. They had stayed away from that part of the park for a while but when people began to disappear in the woods they had to do something. No one beloved them of course, and the relationship had started off pretty bad. So, Aspen became a ranger. It took time, but he convinced the board to corner off certain parts of the national park. The creatures stopped attacking people now that they had their space, and the Brown's never mentioned what they had seen to anyone else again. The thing was Cort never stopped going to those corners of the forest. She hid in the bushes and watched the creatures, studying them. Cort was going there now, trampling through the underbrush until a wire fence line rose in front of her. She kicked at a section of fencing where it met a pole and it bent of place. She ducked under and pushed it closed before entering the forbidden side.
A dark figure surged out of the bushes, flattening Cort on the ground. Cort tried to kick them off, but they gripped her arms tightly. She glanced up at the snarling face of her attacker and stopped fighting.
"Seriously Gilbert?" The wolf-man realised who she was and once again retreated into himself. "Cort? What the hell are you doing here again? I've told you over and over. They-will-kill-you." He spelled it out for her for the millionth time.
"Only if I get caught. Now could you please get off me?" Gilbert blushed slightly and quickly jumped off Cort.
"Sorry." He mumbled, reaching down to help her up. She brushed his hand away and got up her self, studying the trees for signs of strange life forms. Finding none she turned back to Gilbert. "It's alright. Did you find that thing you lost yesterday?" She asked, adjusting her glasses. Gilbert shook his head.
"No. But it's okay, I borrowed someone else's." Cort checked her backpack to make sure nothing fell out. Satisfied everything was there, she turned back to Gilbert.
"Alright, then. I was planning on sketching the Nessie's today. Wanna come?" Gilbert shrugged as Cort swang her backpack on again and pushed her glasses back up her nose. "Sure."
They made they're way through the "backroads" of the forest. The paths that creatures rarely took. Cort gazed up at the thick foliage filled with the small glimmers of spirits.
"How is your dad going?" Gilbert asked, shoving his hands in his shorts pockets. Cort sighed.
"He's the best. The only thing is that I see him less and less as the days go by. He got into the university outside Sensbrooke. So, soon, it'll be even less than that." Gilbert nodded in reply.
"Well, Cort. You are always talking about how badly you want to leave and find your life. Think about how long your father's been saving up for this. How long he has waited for his chance to go live. Now he has that opportunity to learn; so he can go and be that person he has always wanted to be." Cort threw her hands in the air.
"I know! I always wanted this," she paused. "It's just now I know how much I'll miss him when he's gone." They reached a rocky river bank and followed it downstream. "He isn't going to leave you behind," Gilbert said, gently as they arrived at a lake and ducked into a little area in the middle of a large bush. Cort just nodded and begun to pull her things out of her backpack. They turned on her EMF reader and the digital thermometer. Then, Cort used her swiss army knife to cut away a small hole in the bush so they could look out over the lake. Gilbert wanted to talk to her more about the subject but felt that she did not. Cort got her sketchbook ready, and they waited in silence for a Loch Ness monster to come.
Hey yo. Feeling pretty tired and I've barely done anything today. Lemme know what you think. Don't be rude or I will find you and unleash my army of fire breathing chickens upon your mean ass self. Hope you're lives are okay.
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