I leaned close to Harlow and whispered, “That was something else I wanted to talk to you about yesterday. I was visited last night by those red lights again. They were eyes. I know they were. They had vanished by the time I went to the window.”
Harlow squeezed her hands into fists. “Let’s check the cameras. I was able to get them set up yesterday.”
Another thing that Harlow and I had in common was a love for the supernatural, the paranormal, the unexplainable. Harlow was born with a gift she never fully understood when she was a child. She was always afraid of the dark. Said she could feel the darkness move, could see swirls and faces no one else could see. Her parents ignored her and left her to deal with the spirits alone in the dark.
After moving out of her familial home, she’s figured out ways to suppress seeing such things, but lately, Harlow questioned everything. Whether things were true or not, such as the paranormal, vampires, werewolves and all sorts.
Harlow didn't just randomly choose this town; the universe practically shoved her here. First came the real estate listings appearing in her social feeds, then the recurring dreams of forest-lined streets she'd never seen, and finally those suspiciously specific email promotions about local businesses. She recognized the pattern for what it was: an invitation she couldn't refuse. When she found the townhome for sale and for her price range, she knew she was walking into something deliberately orchestrated.
She had further suspicions, especially after the last party she went to. The costumes were just too real.
Harlow stomped her foot. “Dino Nuggets, it’s blurry!”
The cameras that were set up were motion-activated, but the picture of the supposed animal was blurred so much you couldn’t see it. All except for red eyes.
“What is a creature that has red eyes?” I rubbed the side of my face. “That’s too big to be a raccoon. I don’t care what the mayor says.”
“The mayor is in on it. Why do you think I’m trying to be all sweet with him?”
Oh, thank the gods. “I thought you actually liked the bald man with a giant head and weird teeth.”
Harlow blushed. “He has a pleasant smile.”
I turned around and huffed. “What could it be then? And why would it be at my window?”
Harlow gathered the dishes and carried them to the sink. "What if you've already crossed paths with whatever was at your window? Some people around here wear costumes that look impossibly real, while others are clearly just playing dress-up. I'm thinking the ones with the flawless disguises aren't wearing costumes at all. They're actually supernatural beings hiding in plain sight."
I rubbed my chin. “It’s a possibility. That means there are witches in town.”
Harlow nodded. "Just look around town: crystal shops, herbalists brewing teas that cure things modern medicine can't explain, grocery stores that have some really odd things on their shelves.” She shivered. “Who buys frog eyes?”
I barked out a laugh. “We are smack dab in the middle of it all then. The question is, are we safe?”
Harlow smiled and put her hands on her hips. “Of course! I saw a human girl with one of those monsters at the last party. It was a Lycan. He was carrying her around and sniffing, licking and doting on her. Everyone congratulated them on being a couple. They both looked thrilled.”
“Then, monsters are pairing up with humans?” I grinned.
Harlow leaned back against the counter and crossed her arms. “Could be, but they look for something particular in each human; they don’t just grab anyone. They are selective.”
Interesting. I twirled a streak of green-highlighted hair. What could have been at my window with red eyes? Who have I met?
I wanted to smack myself. How stupid I was!
Atlas and Lucien are the only two I’ve talked to besides the mayor. Atlassaidhe was coming as a Mothman.
“Mothman!” I whispered to Harlow. “Atlas is a Mothman. Think about it. He told me he is going to the party dressed up as a Mothman, with the big, red eyes.” I put my hands over my eyes to look like I had big binoculars. “Think of every time someone has tried to get a picture of a Mothman, there is never a clear picture, always fuzzy!”
Harlow grinned. “Sounds like it then. Wow, Mothman. You got yourself a Mothman stalker.”
I did a Harlow squeal and danced on my toes, turning around in circles. “I still don’t like human men!” I fist-pumped into the air.
“That’s not really a flex, but yeah!” Harlow fist-pumped into the air as well.
I was on pins and needles for the next couple of hours.
I wasn’t sure what I was more excited about: that paranormal creatures exist or I had one who was attracted to me.
I should wig out about this. I should leave town.
