At least now, I have a decent mask to put on. I painstakingly taught myself how to socialize and not make people uncomfortable. Wiley and Tally helped, though I’m not sure why, other than pity. I showed up at the roadhouse one day, desperate for a sense of normalcy and human connection. Wiley had looked at me with his sad, knowing eyes. He’d wordlessly handed me a bar towel and hoisted his thumb behind him towards the bar. Tally had come months later and made it her sole mission to befriend me. I can never give her honest answers to any of her questions, but I have to admit, I enjoy her company. She’s so full of life and energy, without shame or judgment. I want to be someone for them, but at the end of the day, I’m still me.
Once I got used to the roadhouse, strangers coming and going, I started bringing home the most inexperienced guys at the bar. I looked for ones who were desperate like me, begging to be touched by anyone. I wanted to be the story they told when their friends asked them about their craziest lay. I liked to try on their lives, put on their skin as my own to test the waters. How would it feel if I was just another girl? A girl capable of feeling something other than rage?
The real me always comes out, though—all blood and steel. Most girls have soft curves, and I’m all sharp edges. I can be in the throes of ecstasy, shaking with pleasure, and still be ready to tear both of our hearts out. My stranger gave me hope that desire could be more than just a speck in the constant spiral of rage and madness. He gave me hope that all my impulses could coexist. Hope that someone could love my darkness and they won’t wind up dead in the morning. Then, he fucking left and snatched it away.
I let out a long breath and stare across Devil’s Pool. My fingers twitch as I think about dragging someone into the boat and rowing us out to the middle of the water. I close my eyes, and my ears fill with the splash of another body hitting the lake’s surface, ripples spreading out further than I can see. Blood slowly blooms out into the water, clouding it with my sins. I open my eyes and push the image away.
The orange haze of the sun fills the sky. It’s almost time to put my mask back on and head in for my shift. Tally has been kind enough to work a few shifts alone, but it’s Friday night, and I know we’ll be much busier than normal. I stand and pause, hoping to hear something that lets me know I’m not alone. My laugh echoes across the lake. It’s ironic, because I’m normally paranoid I might not be alone out here.
I take one last glance at myself in the water. My emerald eyes stare back at me, but there’s something else there too. I kneel and peer into the water, but my reflection is no longer clear. The form in the water is hazy and dark, a blurry reciprocal image of me, but only my eyes are in focus. I blink, but my watery twin doesn’t. I blink again. Nothing. Fuck, I need to sleep. When was the last time I slept? Or ate? That has to be it. I grab a rock from the shore and toss it into the water, dissolving the image. The sinking feeling in my stomach doesn’t dissipate, though.
Eager to get out of the woods before the sun sets, I begin the walk back to my cabin. The vial around my neck heats against my chest, and I quicken my steps. The shadows inside swirl wildly. I must be imagining it, but as I clasp the small charm, it warms my hand too. I stare straight ahead for the rest of the walk and ignore the shadows creeping into the corners of my eyes.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
mattie
The door slams shut behind me, causing me to jump at the sudden noise. Tally breezes in and hangs her purse and jacket up on the coat rack next to the bar’s back door. Wiley calls it the “employee entrance,” but besides the three of us, there’s only a cook who sometimes comes to help on the weekends.
“Lawd have mercy, Mattie,” Tally shrieks. “Aren’t you getting any sleep?” I laugh a little under my breath. The last thing any god has for me is mercy, and I definitely can’t sleep when I’m haunted by nightmares each night. Every time I close my eyes, I see shadows creep out, threatening to strangle me, crush me under their wave of darkness.
I sigh and stare down into the sink, looking into the soapy water I’m using to wash dishes. “I look that bad, huh?” I certainly feel that bad. It has been too long now since my stranger left me shattered and alone to pick up the pieces. I’m not sure why I care so much about him, or why I’m so desperate to see him again. I subconsciously clutch the vile hanging from myneck.
Tally tsks at me, bumping me out of the way with her hip so she can take over. “Go sit, sugar,” she orders, pointing one press-on red nail towards the break table.
I pour myself a stale cup of coffee before I sit. It has been on the burner since this morning, but at least it’s warm—and caffeinated. Once I sit, I realize just how tired I really am. The harsh light from the fluorescent bulbs stings my eyes, and my entire body sags to lean on the table.
“Spill it,” Tally says, raising an eyebrow at me before turning back to the soapy water.
“I don’t know, Tally,” I sigh, defeated. “I just feel off. I have for days, and when I finally do fall asleep, I’m trapped in recurring nightmares.”
“Hmmm.” Tally puckers her lips in thought. “Tell me about the nightmares,” she says, not looking back up from her busy hands.
“I’m in the woods, screaming a name,” I tell her, closing my eyes so I can imagine it just the way I see it every night. “But the funny thing is, I don’t know what name I’m yelling, even though I know I’m screaming the same one every night. I’m running and screaming until eventually, shadows appear from the trees and just swallow me whole.”
Tally taps her foot and lets out another hum. “How much did your mama tell you about these woods?”
“I mean, I grew up in them. I live in the same damn cabin I was born in,” I say, yawning out the last few words. Tally shoots me a wide-eyed glance like I’ve grown a second head.
“Oh Mattie, no wonder.” She shakes her head like my upbringing suddenly explains everything. She doesn’t even know the half of it, but hearing I’m from the Hellsmouth woods tells her everything she apparently needs to know.
I grimace and look down into my coffee. Being treated differently because I’ve always lived well below the poverty line is nothing new to me, but it stings more coming from Tally. She can’t be much better off than me, but apparently, I’m still worth pitying.
“There’s boogers in those woods, Mattie. There’s story after story of people going missin’, windin’ up dead, seein’ all sorts of unnatural creatures.” Her eyes tell me she’s serious. She really believes all the stories that come from the woods. “The Appalachians are older than the bones. What did ya reckon you’d find out there?”
I nod my head. I’ve heard all the stories too. My ma warned me repeatedly about all the rules I had to follow to keep from bringing anything home with me, rules I had to follow to make it home. All her stories and rules just made me wonder why Hellsmouth couldn’t swallow up my pa instead. He was the only monster lurking out there in the dark.
“Those are just children’s whoppers, Tally. They’re meant to scare little kids into gittin’ home before dark,” I scoff, brushing her off while trying to swallow the lump in my throat. I’ve heard the voices in the woods, felt the presence of something I couldn’t see or explain. There was also something itching at the corner of my mind about the stranger from the bar and the vial he’d left me. Somehow, I knew it all connected to my recurring dreams.
Wiley pops his head through the swinging door separating the small kitchen from the bar area, causing both of us to jump. “Alright ladies, enough chit-chatting. Git on out there. Folks are startin’ to wander.”
Tally and I look at each other and barely keep from cracking up. Wiley’s sass lightens up the adrenaline from scaring ourselves. We both grab a tray of glassware and head to our usual spots behind the bar. Wiley is right. There are already five people lined up on the stools with their first round in front of them. I say a silent thanks to Wiley and then take mental notes of what everyone’s poison is tonight.
Even though I’m exhausted, I manage to get into my serving flow easily. The crowd is a little rowdier than usual, and there’s a tension in the air I can’t place, but the bar stays lively as someone starts a song on the jukebox as soon as one finishes.
A larger man, with blond hair slicked back under his backward baseball cap, sits at the end of the bar. He’s loudly making raunchy jokes and slapping the back of the guy beside him. Based on the empty glassware in front of him, he has had several beers and multiple shots of tequila already. Yet, he slams down his empty glass on the bar like he’s dying of thirst.
My eyes narrow, and rage tightens in my chest. A familiar fire spreads through my veins. I’ve been too preoccupied with all the newfound weirdness in my life to satiate the one itch I always need to scratch. I haven’t brought anyone down to Devil’s Pool since hearing the voice in the woods, since bringing my stranger home. Now, the need is boiling over like a pot I forgot to watch on the stove.
