Moonbound Secrets

"Do you believe in curses, Miss Hart?"

It was a surprise question. My vehicle skidded to a halt in front of the Silverpine petrol station, and I gripped the steering wheel tighter. With his arms folded and his sharp gray eyes fixed on me, the guy who had spoken leaned against the corroded pump. His gravelly, deep voice sounded like a whispered narrative.

"I-what?" Shaking from the long drive's fog, I mumbled.

A little, knowing grin twitched his lips. With a tone that was at once a challenge and a threat, he replied, "You'll find out soon enough."

I looked at the rumpled map with the red-circled words "Silverpine" on the passenger seat. It was just a little village on the outskirts of a vast forest, but it was meant to be the new beginning I much needed. A opportunity to concentrate on my writing, peaceful evenings, and clean air. There had been no mention of curses or vague warnings.

The guy was gone when I turned around.

A lady emerged from the petrol station, using a cloth to wipe her hands as the door creaked open. "Marge" was written on her name tag, and she seemed to have seen a good number of visitors come and go.

She nodded in the direction where the guy had been standing and added, "Don't mind, Gus." He enjoys frightening the newbies. You're Lila Hart, right?

I forced a courteous grin and nodded. "That clear?"

"Town small. We don't get many tourists, much less newcomers. She looked at my vehicle, which was overflowing with luggage and boxes. "You're renting the former Miller residence?"

I handed over my card to pay for the gas and remarked, "That's the one."

After hesitating, Marge swiped it. "It's a lovely house," she said cautiously. "Just watch out for danger." The woodland is not as hospitable as it seems.

I scowled. "What do you mean?"

However, she just returned my card and steered me in the direction of a restaurant where I could have supper.

Towering trees that seemed to slant closer the farther I drove framed the Miller home, which was at the end of a meandering gravel drive. The sky was stained with oranges and purples as the sun had already set when I drove into the driveway.

The home itself, with its worn wood, wraparound porch, and windows that glinted like secrets, was a holdover from another era. Given my area of work, it seemed appropriate that it resembled something from a gothic book.

My laptop, a box of notebooks, and the French press that I couldn't live without were the first things I unloaded. The air felt... strange as I brought them inside. thicker. The home seemed to be holding its breath.

I said to myself, "All right, Lila, you're dreaming."

Considering its antiquity, the inside was remarkably preserved. Even though the walls had faded wallpaper and the flooring groaned underfoot, everything seemed immaculate-almost too immaculate-as if someone had been waiting for me.

Most of my uneasiness had been baked away by the sun by the time I arrived in town the next morning. The neon sign for the restaurant Marge had suggested flickered dimly, tucked between a post office and a general shop.

Inside, the aroma of bacon and coffee enveloped me like a cozy embrace. With the exception of a bright red-haired waitress pouring coffee and two elderly guys playing cards in the corner, the restaurant was almost deserted.

As I walked in, she grinned and glanced up. "You have to be Lila."

I blinked. "Is it really that clear?"

She waved me to a booth while laughing. "In Silverpine? News spreads more quickly than the wind. By the way, my name is Tessa.

I slipped into the booth, thankful that her happy disposition was typical. "It's good to meet you. Do you have any suggestions?

She handed me a menu and remarked, "Everything's good." Then she said, lowering her voice, "But don't eat the fish stew. Earl's recipe is a bit of a taste acquisition.

The anxiety from the night before vanished as I laughed.

However, the lightness was short-lived. I heard hints of something deeper as I drank my coffee and listened to the soft murmur of talk around me.

"An additional sighting close to the former quarry..."

"You know, just like the stories."

"...wolves." or worse.

As soon as they saw me listening, the guys who were playing cards stopped talking, their eyes evaluating me.

With a grin that stopped short of her eyes, Tessa came back with my supper and put the dish down. "Don't be afraid of them," she added quietly. "Ghost stories are very popular here."

"Ghost stories?" I tried to sound informal as I inquired.

She nodded after hesitating. The tales of Silverpine are many. Curses, unexplained disappearances, and nocturnal occurrences. You will ultimately hear about them all.

Tessa's grin froze when the bell above the restaurant entrance jangled, interrupting my attempt to get more information from her.

A guy had entered.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, dark-haired, and exuded an intensity that energized the room. His captivating presence naturally attracted attention.

Avoiding his eyes, Tessa busied herself with the coffee pot. With a murmur, the card players hurried away, their chairs making a loud scraping sound as they went.

When the man's eyes locked with mine, it seemed as if the world had shrunk to the two of us.

"Lila Hart," he whispered in a silky, deep voice.

I became cold. "How are you aware of my name?"

His look was inscrutable as he did not respond. "Greetings from Silverpine."

I made the decision to investigate the woodland behind my home that evening. It was thick, the kind of place where time seemed to have stopped. With their branches intertwining to create a canopy that blotted out the last of the sun, the trees towered like silent sentinels.

The earthy aroma of pine and moss permeated the cold air. I was at peace for the first time in a long time.

Then I heard it, however.

It was a deep, guttural growl that made my spine tingle.

I paused, my pulse racing, trying to identify the sound. The tranquility I had experienced vanished as it returned, closer this time.

"Hello?" With a shaky voice, I screamed out.

Something moved in the darkness ahead, a flash of silver fur, eyes that glinted like molten gold, and the growl became a snarl.

I tripped on a root and staggered back, breathing in quick, frantic breaths.

I was momentarily paralyzed as the thing moved into the last of the light. It wasn't quite a wolf. It was bigger, with rippling muscle and uncanny human-like gestures.

I felt the weight of its stare like a tangible force when its eyes met mine.

Then, almost as abruptly as it had emerged, it was gone, vanishing into the woods so quickly that I wondered whether it had ever been there.

I staggered back to the home, latching the door for safety and slammed it behind me. I leaned my back against the door and tried to catch my breath, my hands trembling.

The woodland outside was quiet once again.

I knew what I had seen, however.

I also got the unsettling impression that, whatever it was, it had been observing me for a long time before I realized it.

I got a shiver as I heard claws scrapping across wood coming from the porch. I wasn't alone myself.