Hemlock Veils

Elizabeth allowed her imagination to conjure the images. With her chest close to Eustace’s back, the wetness in the atmosphere began numbing her extremities.

“You know, Beth, for a disbeliever, you’re awfully interested.”

She smiled. “For knowing I’m a disbeliever, you’re awfully open to sharing.”

“Well, you seem all right to me. Besides, like I said…”

“I’ll know soon enough.”

He chuckled. “We only have about a quarter of a mile to go.”

“Tell me why Hemlock Veils is Oregon’s best kept secret.”

“One of Oregon’s best kept secrets is more accurate. I’d say our monster is the best.”

“But you seemed to think I should have heard of him.”

“And people around here have. But when folks think a story’s a mere story, their disbelief masks its reality, doesn’t it? That makes it the best kept secret. No one really believes the beast of Hemlock exists. People sense evil here and have come in search of it, sure, but they either come up disappointed or run away from here scared shitless. And in that case, who’s going to believe them?”

She took in the calming sound of boots in the mud and rain in the treetops. The beam of his light guided them over a fallen mossy trunk, and she stepped high. “Have you lived in Hemlock Veils your whole life?”

“Just about. Perfect little place, really: population only two-fifty.”

Though she nodded, the concept was far from her. She’d never lived anywhere but Los Angeles. Hemlock Veils sounded remote and isolated…and just the kind of place she was looking for. If it really existed. She wondered what she would really find at the end of that mile.

That eerie sensation pricked the back of Elizabeth’s neck again, and she stopped; something watched them. Only this time it was closer, blunter. And at the same time Eustace straightened, her heart dropped. Her eyes followed his. With a rigid stance, he stared at nothing she could see: trees, darkness, and more trees.

At once the air seemed colder.

“You feel that too, don’t you, Beth?” he whispered. He hadn’t turned to her.

Tree branches shook and shifted, first ahead then to their right, startling her into Eustace. They rustled above, then below; behind them and to the left, and again to the right. It darted here and there with a speed unlike any animal she knew, and Eustace aimed the double barrel of his shotgun in every direction, even up high. It was everywhere, this thing she couldn’t see. Either more than one hunted them, or it was just as Eustace said: not from this world

Whatever it was, it circled them.

And Eustace’s words didn’t seem so crazy anymore.

Elizabeth breathed shallowly, her hands in fists as she twisted in every direction, trying to pinpoint the movement that seemed to come from everywhere all at once. Then, in the wide beam of Eustace’s light, it darted past. A flicker of reflective eyes, a mass of blackness: an image so fleeting she wasn’t sure it was real.

A low grumble from behind made her turn with a jerk, but Eustace’s light had fallen around his neck, as both his hands now clasped the shotgun. Only heavy breath and a bass growl gave the animal away.

“Still skeptical?” Eustace said, his voice no longer a whisper.

“Your light,” she managed with an unsteady heart. In a movement quick and somewhat panicked, Eustace removed the leather strap of his spotlight from around his neck and handed it to her, returning both his hands to the shotgun.

She pointed the spotlight ahead and the gasp that escaped her chest didn’t sound like her own. Light bathed its large, hairy frame, reflecting off its eyes. Even if she had allowed herself to believe Eustace’s words, she would never have imagined a being so huge. Not even his drawing did the monster justice. And a monster it definitely was.

It stood erect, displaying the large, muscular physique of its upper body, before dropping to all fours and baring its teeth. Hundreds of them, it seemed: long, razor-sharp, and dripping. Just like the drawing, all of them appeared stuffed into its large mouth for one purpose: to shred.

A coat of short, dark fur covered its body, but a spiky ridge of longer black fur began at its snout, trailing over its head and down its spine, where it joined its long but bushy tail. The tips of its ears were so sharp they would appear as weapons themselves if they weren’t hung with a limp curve. And those claws: they could do just as much damage as those teeth, with their extended, sharp edges, decorating the largest paws she’d ever seen.

But the more she stared, the less they looked like paws. They were neither paws nor hands, but somehow a combination of both. Whatever this thing was, it appeared to be a mix of everything deadly. With those long ears, she imagined spectacular hearing, and with its long, wolf-like snout, a keen sense of smell. Eustace was right: it probably had her scent as soon as she’d entered the forest.

Its jowls opened wider, exposing more deranged teeth. With a monstrous huff, a cloud of breath and saliva sprayed the air, making her flinch.

But she couldn’t look away.

Slowly, deliberately, it began to approach, its frame roped with muscle. Through its thin, wet fur they rippled with its movement, and even while on all fours, it still towered above her. She and Eustace didn’t stand a chance. Within a matter of seconds, it could crush every bone in her body.

“Why you still here, Beth?” Eustace asked, stepping in front of her and pointing a shaky shotgun at the beast. It stared past Eustace and right at Elizabeth, its eyes still reflecting the light.

“I’m not leaving you.” They retreated, her with the light and Eustace with the gun.

“I’ll fare just fine on my own. Always do, don’t I, you son-of-a-bitch?” he said at the beast, who closed in on them. “All I need is one shot…”

The monster roared with deafening fierceness, its jaw so wide it appeared dislocated. Elizabeth started back; the anger seemed to be directed at her. “Eustace…”

“When I shoot, you run. You hear me?”

Before she could argue, a brilliant blast exploded from his shotgun, but the place before them was now empty. The beast materialized at Eustace’s side, its jowls ripping the shotgun from Eustace’s hands and tossing it to the trees. It knocked Eustace to his back, hovering over him.

Adrenaline coursed through Elizabeth’s limbs in Eustace’s defense, and she threw a rock at the monster. It hit its shoulder and bounced to the forest floor; she may as well have been throwing a grain of sand. The beast growled that same grumble that could almost be mistaken for an idling motorbike, and its eyes said, You’re next. With its teeth bared in her direction and its massive form towering above a feeble-looking Eustace Bathgate, a tremor rippled down its spiky spine.

“I’m the trespasser here,” she said as though it could understand, forcing her voice brave and attempting to stand tall.

“What are you doing?” Eustace whispered. He sounded wounded, out of breath.

“Let him go. You want someone, take me.” She couldn’t believe her words, especially how easily they’d come. But her fear hadn’t come from dying; only from seeing something she didn’t understand, something truly horrendous. The truth was she hadn’t been afraid of death in years—not with her brother’s killer’s gun to her chest, and not with a hideous monster about to rip her to shreds. What was there to fear when she had nothing left to leave behind?

Her realization set her bravery on fire, allowing her to take a single step closer.

The monster rippled with another tremor, and steam puffed from its nostrils, framing its muzzle. Rain droplets cascaded down its fur and Elizabeth’s own hair dripped. It stared her down, contemplating her offer. Perhaps it could understand her after all.

“Get the hell out of here, Beth!” Eustace shouted. Before she could argue, the monster lurched for her, making her stagger back and trip over a slick log. Things went black when her back slammed to the ground, and for a disorienting moment she thought the pain in her head had done it. But her senses were still alive, and her awareness still present. Just when she realized she’d dropped the spotlight, rain no longer pinged her face.