Eric checked his hair one more time in the rear view mirror. Usually not one to keep up appearances, he felt this time it was necessary. Giving it one more unnecessary comb with his fingers, he grabbed the bouquet of flowers from his passenger seat and climbed out of the car.
A queer stillness hung over the motel, not unlike the one he visited just outside of Missouri County. Could this one be run by a man-eating werewolf as well? Highly unlikely, and certainly not with its resident monster hunter staying there.
Passing by the only other car in the parking lot, Eric made his way up the steps and toward the doors of the rooms, eyes fixed firmly on his own shuffling feet. Guilt was an emotion he'd learned to suppress a long, long time ago, and for good reason, but this time it was very much alive and very much warranted.
These flowers are stupid, he thought, looking at the daffodils hanging from his limp hand. She doesn't even like flowers. Who the hell likes flowers these days? The barrage of negative thoughts kept him company all the way up to door number six, where he was met with an unusual sight – a sickly-looking scops owl sitting on the railing just opposite the door. While he was at best a hobbyist ornithologist, he was pretty sure he wasn't looking at any species of American screech owl, though with how badly the creature's feathers were matted, it was hard to figure out exactly what the bird was.
As he approached it, the owl looked at him, then at the door, before chirping out a shrill yet very human-sounding call. Startled, Eric turned to look toward where the bird was staring, but there was nothing there – the door was closed, and there was no one else around. By the time he turned back around to look at the bird, it had taken flight. A lifted hand shielded his eyes as he watched the owl fly away against the backdrop of the burning sun, and just for a moment – just for a very short moment before it disappeared entirely – Eric could swear the bird wasn't flapping its wings nor even extending them.
"I know you're developmentally stunted, so I'll politely let you know that the normal thing to do in situations like this would be to knock." A pajama-clad Cassie had appeared in the now-open doorway behind him.
"Oh, uh, I – sorry, what?" Eric was still a bit transfixed by the owl which had resembled a carcass of one more so than a living specimen.
"Baby language – got it. Next time," Cassie began slowly, "no shouties. Knockies on doorsies instead."
"That trill wasn't me. It was the owl." Eric gestured to the bare railing.
"First of all, you're pointing to nothing. Secondly, if you're going to blame non-existent owls for calling my name while you stand outside of my door, then I think it's time for you to retire to a sanitarium."
"Your name? No, it wasn't that. I mean, yeah, the owl did sound pretty human, but it sounded more like he was saying 'dewch' or something like that."
Cassie put a hand on Eric's forehead. "Aw, Eric, you're feeling pretty warm. You sure you're not coming down with something?"
"No. Maybe. I don't know. Did you say you heard someone call your name?"
Cassie paused for a moment. "I was about to say yes, but then I realized I'd just sound as crazy as you do right now." She looked in Eric's eyes for a moment, then down to the flowers in his hand. "Who are those for?"
"For you, actually," he said, but only after breaking eye contact.
Cassie's brows raised and her head tilted backward.
"I just – I just thought that –" Eric stuttered. "Look, Cassie, about the other day, I was way out of line."
Her expression of surprise melted, and an empathetic one took its place. "I was no better. I think we were both just stressed about the operation going to shit, and some bad words were said, but for what it's worth, I meant none of them and I apologize."
"Yeah... same..." Eric dared to look into her eyes again.
"Do you want to come in?"
"I would, but I've seen the way you get dressed, and I don't want to traumatize myself with that again."
"Your prudishness is legendary, but fear not, I intend to spend all day in my jim-jams."
"Not with what I have to tell you."
"And what might that be?"
"I've spent the past few days working and – well, it's a really long story, but the short version is that I think I've found where the ringleaders of the monsters are hanging out, and they don't know I know, so we've got the drop on them."
"That was quick. It's only been a few days," Cassie said, the same look of surprise gracing her face again.
"Impressed?"
"By your efficient work or by the gel in your hair?"
"Hey, you noticed! How does it look?"
"Honestly, it makes you look poncey and a little bit gay."
"Oh."
"Tell me you didn't do it for me."
"Ha, no, of course not," Eric lied through a nervous laugh. "So, are you in or what?"
"Oh, you know I'm in."
"Great. Get your gear and meet me at my car."
YOU ARE READING
Misery County
FantastiqueWhen he hung up his combat boots for the last time, Eric planned to enjoy a taste of the quiet life. Destiny had other ideas. After being called out to help an old friend with a mysterious disturbance, Eric finds himself at the front line of a very...