Song: Meet Me in the Woods

Artist, Year: Lord Huron, 2015

https://youtu.be/AJOsLdBqbPA

Song: Loup y es-tu? (Wolf, Where Are You?), French children's song

Composition: 17th century 

https://youtu.be/e4fhqWofgDk

-

I took a journey to the Northwoods.

I take the same one every year, following the same trails and portages. These are unmarked paths that I can walk backward and forwards. I almost have it down to a science. Almost.

Usually, I can trace every step I took, and track every sunrise and sunset. But this time was a blur. I woke up and fell asleep at the same campsite, but I wouldn't be able to tell a soul what I did all day. I don't know if it's been days or weeks that I've felt like this. Maybe I ate something I shouldn't have when I foraged?

I load up my truck with my gear and camping pack, then check the straps of my canoe to make sure everything is in order to leave the campsite. Everything is accounted for.

Satisfied that I can hit the road, I climb into the driver's seat and slam the door shut, signaling to the wilderness that I'm heading out for the year. I crank up the music and roll down the window, trying to will my lungs to cling to that last bit of fresh pine air. The air is different today. The complex melody of soil, rushing water, and dead and new foliage dance across my nostrils. I almost turn back, but I keep straight on. I've got someone waiting for me to get home.

Aside from a few speed traps on my way, it was an uneventful drive passing mile after mile of flat, tree-covered land, the wind in my hair, and jamming to tunes in the long overdue for an upgrade stereo in my truck. On the drive back to civilization, I find I've never felt more reluctant to escape the freedom I had.

I slow my lead foot down as I reach the trailer park, looking carefully for kids playing or other drivers that keep forgetting that dang stop sign covered by a bush to the right. It's a peaceful afternoon, no one else is out. I tap my fingers to the end of the song on my radio before pulling in to our lot.

The rust-red trailer in front of me is quiet, no windows open or lights on. Nora's probably sleeping after a graveyard shift she pulled at the bar last night. I leave the canoe strung up to the truck, but pull out my pack and gear, struggling with the screen door and the front door that I'm stuck in front of. After fumbling with the keys in my hands, I look up to see I'm saved.

Nora leans against the doorway, her soft doe-brown hair fighting the bun she stuffed it into. Her amber eyes flicker with amusement at watching my struggle and she reaches a hand out to me to take my pack. "Welcome home, stranger."

I nod and murmur gruffly, leaving a peck on her cheek before entering our home. I set the gear against the worn brown leather couch inside the door. "Miss me?"

She smiles with another fiery glint in her eye. "You're back earlier than usual. Barely gave me time to." She sways her hips, then walks over to the kitchenette to take a long gulp of her sweet tea.

God damn, I could take her there - she's so mouthwatering.

"Something happen out there?" She asks after setting her tea down, cocking her head to the side as she watches me.

I follow her into the kitchenette trying to be a gentleman but feeling my animalistic urges grow within me. "No. Just missed you." I walk up behind her, running my calloused hands over every smooth curve of her body. Her form is like some of the perfectly round stones I'd skipped on the lakes in the Northwoods. How someone could be made so flawless is beyond me.

"Rick!" She laughs and swats at me as I find myself inhaling more and more of her intoxicating scent in the crook of her neck. "I'm working an early shift today! I've gotta go!"

I let her go with an involuntary growl in my throat and she winks back at me before grabbing her purse on the way out the door.

Damn me, not knowing what day it is. I can hear it in her pulse and see it in her eyes - she doesn't want to leave, but she has to. Frustrated, I lean back on the couch, placing a palm to my forehead.

Am I alright? Like she had asked... What the heck happened out there?

- - -

I woke up who knows how long later, drenched in an ungodly amount of sweat. It probably rained yesterday, so Nora closed the windows and now all the air is trapped in this tiny trailer. I know it's the end of summer - but god damn, it's never been nearly this hot.

I stumble on unsteady legs out of the trailer and trip over myself to the front steps, sitting down in front of the trailer. The sun is steadily setting over the horizon, but that does little to stop the heat I want to escape from. The neighbors are probably staring and think I'm high or tripping balls, but what do I care? Let the nosy Nellies think what they want.

Our trailer park isn't too far from a small creek, so I shed my flannel shirt and leave it on the steps, walking first, then running to that creek. I can hear the bubbling water in my ears clearer than I can hear the whispers of those I run past.

This running - it feels foreign but familiar. Flashes of the past few nights come to me in the smallest of instants. Adrenaline courses through my veins - is it anticipation? Is it fear?

I fall to my knees at the creek, just as the sun starts to set and I dig my fingers into the soil beneath me. It doesn't feel the same as the Northwoods, but I can feel it all the same - the instinct to be one with nature, to be myself... As I never knew I needed to be.

Panting, I lower myself to the ground, inhaling the deep musk of the earth and everything that has touched it. I can picture the rabbits that have burrowed down beneath, the lady that jogged across the trail path with her dog, even the stray cats that hid in the bushes to stalk their prey. I couldn't tell you when that all happened, but I can see it, clear as day.

I crawl closer to the creek, watching the mesmerizing stream before me before plunging my dirty hands into the liquid glass running before my eyes. The water does nothing to relieve my rising body temperature. And yet I throw my entire body into the creek in desperation.

This must be it. Every part of me is on fire and I feel like I'm going to tear apart from the inside out. My cries of agony are muffled by the water I'm screaming against. What the hell is going on?

Before I feel my consciousness fade, the last thing I think of is Nora. Her beautiful, doe-brown hair that I would run my fingers through before falling asleep at night. Those piercing, amber eyes that seemed to look into the depths of my soul the night we met. That slightly familiar, but unknown song that she would hum while cooking.

I don't want to leave her. But I guess I don't have a choice.

The pain stops. And so do my thoughts.

- - -

Later that night...

The path in front of the creek is dark, empty. The surrounding noise of the chittering nightlife filters into her ears as she walks leisurely towards the edge of the creek, dressed in nothing but a tank top and distressed denim shorts. Once at the creek, she kneels down, peering into the dark stream.

She whistles alone, an eerie tune in the nighttime symphony of nature. As she pushes a few stray cattails out of the way and searches the creek, she starts to sing:

"Promenons-nous dans les bois

(Let's go for a walk in the woods)

Pendant que le loup n'y est pas

(While the wolf isn't there)"

Not finding what she's looking for, she turns and stands up, brushing the dirt off of her kneecaps. Walking further down the path, she continues to sing softly:

"Si le loup y était

(If the wolf was there)

Il nous mangerait

(He would eat us)

Mais comme il n'y est pas

(But since he isn't there)

Il nous mangera pas

(He won't eat us)"

She stops with a devilish grin on her lips at the discovery before her. Dark, shaggy fur and a form uttering a soft whimper are ahead of her in the darkness. Pale green eyes that only she recognizes stare back at her through the low light and she resumes singing, softer this time:

"Loup y es-tu?

(Wolf, are you there?)

Que fais-tu?

(What are you doing?)

M'entends-tu?

(Do you hear me?)"

Unafraid, she starts to tug at her tank top, shedding it before kneeling down directly in his sight. "I've been waiting for you."

.

.

Author's Note:

 And here is the first of my supernatural/Halloween-themed stories - yes, there will be more :). 

A few fun facts about this story - I was inspired by not only the above two songs but also the British and American supernatural/sci-fi TV series "Being Human". I was also recently listening to an episode of the podcast "My Favorite Murder" where they were talking about "The Beast of Gévaudan".

The children's song, I actually learned how to sing in French class (along with a song about royal wine tasters...because that's a thing). Good times, eh?

Thank you for taking the time to read this short story! I greatly appreciate your votes and welcome any thoughts or comments you may have ♥