The Secrets of Cedar Creek

12 : Rapture

There's a quiet town at the bottom of Mt Fallows called Juniperville, the only town near Cedar Creek for about an hour. I was once very familiar with it.

Rapture, also known as The Underground or Bodies of Fire (even though in passing it's dubbed The Joint) is the only erotic club and escape. It's also highly secluded, hidden underneath a classy French restaurant.

Iris parks in front of the restaurant and turns off the car. I watch him take a final breath through the cigarette, as memories of another mouth and another cigarette from another time filter through my brain. He steps out of the car, throwing it to the floor and stepping on it as he did before.

I follow him out of the car, wrapping my coat around me. It's colder down here. I lead him through to the restaurant.

"Want something to eat?" he asks me, nodding to an empty table. It's oddly busy tonight.

"Sure," I say, needing something warm.

A familiar looking waiter leads us to the table, pulling out the chair for me and showing us the menu. He lists the specials before pouring us some sparkling water. Ew. Who can drink that carbonated devil juice?

Iris takes a long sip before asking the waiter for a bottle of whiskey and cherry juice. He finally leaves.

"In the mood for anything?" Iris says suggestively. It takes me a moment to remember he's meaning food.

"Snails?"

"Is that your poor sense of humour striking out again?"

"Not at all. The snail is the best here," I say confidently.

"You haven't even touched the menu."

"I always know what I want."

He scans over my face, I swear his eyes linger on my lips. "Snails it is. I think I'll try the soup of the day."

The waiter returns with the whiskey. He puts two glasses on the table with ice and cherries on top. He pours us both a glass before taking our food order and walking back to the kitchen.

"Very mature, aren't you?" Iris asks, tilting his head. Caramel strands of hair fall in front of his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"He didn't even ask for your ID."

I shrug. "Let's skip to business, shall we?" I take a sip of the whiskey, pushing forward my soda water for Iris to adopt.

"You like getting straight into it," he teases, with that small devilish smirk. "I read about the murders that happened at Shadow River Manor in an old news article on unsolved mysteries. I want to uncover the truth – write something exceptional. But I've done this before. I've exposed crimes and caused enough stir within legal departments and local outrage to have cases reopened and suspects indicted."

"Seems like you got a good thing going on."

"I do. But the familiar can only spark interest for limited amounts of time – and I'm sick of writing the same thing."

"But familiar is safe."

"I have a feeling you're a lot less 'safe' than you like to pretend."

I ignore him. "How do you plan on mixing up your strategy, huh?"

"I already have."

"How?"

"You," he looks at me calculatingly – furrowing his brow like I'm a puzzle he wants to solve.