Moonlit Night

Running.

That was how it always started. I ran through the woods-trying to escape the horrifying monster that chased me, but no matter how fast my body moved, I knew that it was not a matter of if but when I would be caught.

“Sabi!” A deep, growling voice rasped in my mind. Calling me. Warning me. It was close, but I could not stop. I would not stop. I ran deeper into the woods, finding unfamiliar territory and the swipe of a monstrous clawed paw caused me to lose my footing. I tumbled down the hill, screaming out in agony once I landed and sharp, jagged rocks pierced in my knee, taking away my ability to run.

I forced my body to move and crawled away, but it did no good as the monster found me, flipping my body over and pinned me to the cold, wet ground. The scent of cedar and musk hit me as I looked up at the monster and stared deep into its golden gaze. I squeezed my eyes shut as I waited for my death-accepting it.

“Sabi.” Was the last thing I heard before all went black.

I jerked awake and found myself in my bedroom safe and sound, but my heart was still beating at a rapid pace from the adrenaline that came from the nightmare. I rolled over onto my back and ran a hand through my bangs that were sticky with sweat. I released a frustrated groan and got up from my bed, making my way over to the desk, turning on the lamp and opened my sketchbook.

Ever since I was about eight-years-old, I had been plagued by the same nightmare. It never changed. A monster that was a mix between human and beast chased me through dark woods and no matter how fast I ran, it always caught up to me. It always ended with the monster hovering over me and saying my name before everything went black and I woke up. I was unsure what started this phenomenon and my therapists could not even tell me why I had them. The most common theory I got was that I just had a very vivid imagination. It was a bogus theory.

The therapist diagnosed me with having an anxiety disorder after I had told her about my nightmares and put me on medication. No one seemed to really care about what I was going through, so I learned to lie. Told them that the medication was helping and suffered alone. Sketching and journaling helped as it gave me the sense that what I was experiencing was real.

I studied the beast I had drawn-one out of many-and pressed my lips together. The monster chasing me in my nightmare was horrifying, but when I drew it, the eyes always seemed sad. They never looked at me like something that was eager to cause harm. I often wondered if it was even truly a monster and just a misunderstood creature. I never could get the answers from my own questions and so I tried not to ask myself such things.

I closed my sketchbook and glanced over at the drawer. I opened it and pulled out documents that were given to me about a week ago from agency that was in charge of the will my grandparents had left after they died back in April, two months ago. According to this, they had left me everything. It was originally meant to be split in half between my father and me, but he died when I was just a kid, so they changed it to where I inherited everything.

My grandparents were incredibly wealthy and owned the mountain above an Appalachian town known as Cedar Creek. They were never really there physically when I was growing up, but the gifts they sent me for my birthday and holidays were always top notch. I remember my mother calling them isolationists because they rarely ever left that mountain unless it was to get something from town. They practically lived off the land. Grandfather hunted for their food and my grandmother had cows and chickens to produce milk and eggs.

I recall visiting them when I was really young, but my memories of that time were hazy. I do not think my father was estrange from them. He just simply had a life outside of that mountain. When I received the inheritance, I did not know how to handle it. Should I sell the property? The money I could make by doing so would set me up for life. I had no sentimental ties to the place, so I should sell it…right?

I looked over the documents and read through everything that was given to me.

“Sabilla Dove is the sole beneficiary of Henry and Faye Dove and have left everything in her name.” I read aloud and let out a soft huff of air and looked at a picture of my father that I kept on my desk. “You’d be furious if I sold it.” I said and looked back at the document. “That was your home. Knowing you, you would have packed your bags and dragged me with you.” I smiled sadly as I remembered the stories my father would tell me of his childhood. “I guess I could go and check it out.”

The next morning, I packed a duffle bag and informed my mother that I was going to Cedar Creek.

“Sabi,” I knew from the tone of her voice, she was going to try and start an argument, “why in the hell are you going up there? You owe those people nothing! They never visited. Never made any attempt to have a relationship with you. So why?”

“They were my grandparents.” I replied as I went through my bathroom for necessities.

“They might have been blood, but they weren’t family.” She crossed her arms over her chest and glowered at me. I knew by interacting with her while she was in this state, it would cause me to have an anxiety attack and prevent me from driving and that was exactly what she wanted. So I did not make eye contact and continued packing.

“Mom,” I began but she interrupted.

“What about me? You’re just going to leave me here all alone?”

“This is not about you.” I said sternly.

“Oh of course. It’s always about you.” She snapped back and I refused to continue feeding her narcissism and returned to packing. “What? Too good to say anything back?” She walked over to me, knowing I had issues with someone in close proximity of me. “If you go, I don’t want you ever to come back.” She growled in my ear.

“Fine. I won’t.” I responded as calmly as I could without spiking my anxiety, grabbing my bag and escaping my mother’s wrath before it escalated any further. Once I got in my truck, I swallowed down one of my anxiety meds and closed my eyes, trying to ease my nerves before I started the engine. I had not intended to actually move in to the cabin I inherited, but I came to the conclusion that it was what was best for me and my mental health.

Cedar Creek was about four hours away from my mother’s house back in Hill Town and I was glad they had a gas station because my truck was almost empty. I parked at the pump and hopped out, taking in my surroundings. I took in a deep breath, and the smell of pine and lush vegetation was a comforting change compared to what I was used to living on the highway. The humidity did not seem to exist up here either, but a light mist blanketed the area, giving it an almost eerie and ghostly appearance. I actually kind of liked it.

The moment I walked into the station, I felt the energy shift as the cashier-an older man with balding hair an about two hundred pounds overweight-looked at me as if I was trespassing and did not belong. I walked over to the counter and handed him forty dollars.

“Um forty on that truck out there please.” I spoke timidly and did not meet eye contact. He grunted and took the bills, pressing buttons on the register that looked like it belonged back in the nineties. I shifted uncomfortably until I decided to ask, “How much farther is it to Dusky Grove?” His eyes met mine through his thick-framed glasses.

“What business do you have up on that mountain?” He asked suspiciously.

“Um…my grandparents owned it and they left it to me after they died. I’m here to check it out.” I answered sheepishly and I had the urge to flinch when he inhaled sharply.

“You’re Henry and Faye’s grandkid?” His tone of voice was filled with both curiosity and a hint of distrust. I nodded and he cracked his neck in response. “Twenty minutes. Give or take. You planning on staying there or just passing through?”

“I guess I’m moving in. I really don’t have anywhere else to go.” I recall the memory of my mother basically kicking me out of her house because of my decision to come here. He pressed his lips and grunted.

“Just be careful while up on that mountain. That’s all I got to say.” And like that, the conversation was over, leaving me with a bunch of questions that I knew he would refuse to answer if I asked. I exited the station and walked back to my truck to pump the gas I had paid for and filled her up.

I did not expect that level of distrust from the locals and it made me wonder how indifferent my grandparents were towards the people of this town. While on my way to their cabin, I would find out just how isolated they were.

On top of the mountain, miles away from Cedar Creek was Dusky Grove, the refuge in which my grandparents confined themselves away from civilization and only making the trip into town when they needed something they could not provide on their own. The cabin itself was a two storied square building with a triangular rooftop and wrap around porch which was decorated with multicolored wildflowers, farther down was the barn and stables that must have housed their cows and horses. Then there was a boat house that was built on the lake which they also owned part of. They were pioneers that lived off the land and it showed.

At the corner of my eye, I saw what I believed was a man feeding the chickens. His eyes found my truck and I could see his body going rigid. Who was this? The documents did not say anything about a possible resident at the cabin. I hopped out of my truck and I cautiously made my way over to the henhouse.

“Um…hi.” I waved innocently enough, but he just glared at me. He was tall and it intimidated me. His raven curls framed his angular face and his grey eyes glared down at me with what looked like utter rage.

“What are you doing here?” He asked and I was taken aback. What was I doing here? Who the hell was this guy and why was he here?

“I’m Sabi.”

“I know who you are. I am asking why are you here.” He knew me? How? I had never met him until now.

“The property was left over to me when my grandparents died. Who are you?” I finally asked and he let out a frustrated breath, licking his lips and looking away from me.

“Konstantin Delmont.” He reluctantly introduced himself. “Are you here to sell the place? Or…”

“No, I’m here to stay.” I told him. “So, Konstantin…why are you here?”

“I live here.” He stated as if it were obvious.

“No one told me about you.”

“Because I prefer my privacy, Sabi. Just as your grandparents did.” He stepped out of the pen and stood before me. I gulped at just how tall he was. I had to bend my neck in a ninety-degree angle just to look at him. I took a couple of steps back. “So…now that you call the shots…are you going to turn me away?” He challenged.

“No.” I said to him in a meek tone. I hated confrontation and this felt very confrontational. I gulped and took a couple more steps back. “You were here before me and if my grandparents trusted you, I guess I can too.”

“Trust? We’re still a ways before we can even consider using that word between us. Look, I’ve mostly been the help since your grandparents took me in. I make sure the animals are fed and taken care of. I clean the stables, barn, and all that. And I only request that once a month, I leave. Understand? I’ll stay out of your way if you stay out of mine.” He was quite scary. I nodded and rubbed the back of my neck.

“I understand.”

“Good. Now, do you need help unpacking?” The switch in his tone caught me off guard and I was left speechless for a moment before shaking my head.

“I only have one duffle bag.” His eyebrow raised at my response.

“You said you were staying here. Why did you only pack one bag?”

“I’m not sentimental and I also figured the cabin would be furnished so I only packed the essentials which was clothes and bathroom necessitates.” I was picking at the skin on my wrist while under his scrutinizing gaze. I had never seen eyes so grey before. I found myself looking down and feeling a heat rise in my face-telling me that I was blushing.

“Suppose that was smart.” He muttered and crossed his arms over his chest. “I guess welcome to your new home.” He added before leaving me alone and heading to the stables. I let out the breath I did not realize I had been holding and watched him disappear into the stables before I even found the strength to move.

I stood before the cabin and took it all in. A new home huh? Home was such a foreign concept to me. I never felt safe enough to consider anywhere home and was in a constant state of flight or fight. Could this cabin in the middle of nowhere on top of a mountain that was miles away from any form of civilization truly become my home? And could I live in peace with the aggressive and intimidating presence that was Konstantin Delmont?