Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Kassie
Iblinked several times as we entered the tent. Harlow wasn’t kidding; it was like stepping into a paranormal cosplay convention.
How other humans didn’t realize that these were monsters, the paranormal walking among us, was insane.
Harlow clutched her cookie basket to her chest. "Everyone else must be under some kind of enchantment.
I mean, look at that." She nodded toward a headless figure in a black Victorian suit and cloak, who stood beside a midnight-black stallion.
The horse snorted and pawed at the ground impatiently while its master tipped a glass of wine into its neck hole.
Yeah, there was no head. "How else could anyone mistake that for a costume? It's obviously real."
“Is that…”
Harlow hummed. “Yup, headless horsemen. He’s known around town as Jack. Jack usually leaves his horse at home, which is close to the forest we are forbidden to enter, at a cottage with a pasture.” Harlow leaned close to me. “Jack doesn’t like people touching his horse, so no touchy.”
I nodded. Yeah, okay.
The tent was packed with creatures straight out of horror movies, except they weren't wearing costumes.
A group of Lycans lounged near the bar, their fur gleaming under the fairy lights as they knocked back drinks with elongated claws.
In the corner, a vampire couple with porcelain skin sipped from crystal goblets, their eyes occasionally flashing crimson.
Something green and dripping slithered between tables, leaving a trail of murky puddles in its wake. And then I heard it…
A voice like fingernails on glass scraped my friend’s name: "Harlow.
.." I spun around and stared up, way up, at a figure in an impossibly crisp black suit.
He towered over us, unnaturally tall and straight, as if someone had stretched a man like taffy and then starched him stiff.
Of all the nightmares mingling in this tent, this one made my skin crawl the most.
He was a Slenderman.
Harlow bounced on her heels. "Mayor Hollow! I brought extra cookies!" She reached up to straighten her bunny ears, which had gone askew. Where the Slenderman's face should have been, a gash appeared, splitting wider until rows of needle-sharp teeth gleamed in the tent light.
This was significantly different from what I was used to reading about…
I grabbed Harlow's arm to pull her back, yet her bunny tail didn’t even shake as I tried to pull her away.
Mayor Hollow's laughter sliced through the air as he accepted Harlow's basket, his spindly fingers brushing against her skin a moment too long.
"Your fear is misplaced, Kassie," he said, that terrible mouth-gash widening.
"What you see is merely an elaborate disguise.
Within our town limits, you enjoy protection unlike anywhere else.
The originals who founded this place would sacrifice themselves before allowing harm to befall any resident.
" With an unnaturally fluid motion, he pressed one elongated arm across his chest and bent at the waist in an old-fashioned bow.
The originals?
My body shivered. While I have always wanted to believe that monsters, from the romance books I read, existed, this was hitting me hard. It really was all true.
I had hoped that Atlas was this Mothman, but a sliver of me thought it wasn’t. This was all the proof I needed. Maybe I didn’t fully believe it before, but here it was.
Harlow nudged me. “Breathe, Kassie. Mayor Hollow is going to think you are sick or something.”
The mayor's mouth-gash twisted into what might have been a smile as his impossibly long fingers brushed over Harlow's hair. "Such formality from you still, my little doll? After all this time? Gideon will do nicely between friends like us."
Harlow blushed and looked away. Please don’t tell me…
“And this,” the mayor said, “is amusing. What sort of outfit is this?”
His fingers brushed the lampshade perched atop my head. The form-fitting costume hugged every curve. It was more than I would usually wear, but refusing Harlow is impossible. Especially after she'd spent days in that tiny craft room of hers.
“She’s a lamp. While usually she is all darkness, I wanted her to brighten up the room.
” Harlow smiled at me. “I also made her dress as a very specific lamp from one of my favorite Christmas movies. It's from the scene where the dad wins a lamp made to look like a woman’s leg.” Harlow threw her head back and laughed.
The mayor tilted his head and smiled at Harlow. “Perhaps we shall watch this movie together sometime.”
Harlow blushed. “Perhaps.”
I watched the interaction until I couldn’t take it anymore and gazed around the tented party.
People decorated the tables with various types of flowers, from winter-themed to spring-themed.
You could tell the originals from the humans because of the costumes being so different, and I couldn’t keep my eyes off some of them.
I saw several Mothmen walking about, but none of them screamed Atlas.
They were too skinny, hunched over…
Then I saw him in the far corner of the tent. He wore an ironed plaid shirt, and perhaps his jeans were ironed too. He looked so nervous, holding onto a pole to keep himself upright. My lips quirked into a smile.
Did he do that so I would recognize him over the other Mothmen here?
There was no mistaking Atlas among the other Mothmen.
While they moved with eerie grace, he stumbled across the tent, one hand gripping whatever surface he could find for balance.
A laugh bubbled up in my throat as I watched him wobble forward.
Whatever enchantment was supposed to keep him looking human clearly wasn't the issue; this awkward, endearing clumsiness was pure Atlas.
He’s so adorable.
Atlas took more steps toward me; it was like he was walking through tar in his own dream.
Harlow grabbed my hand and whispered in my ear. “Is he drunk? Can monsters get drunk?”
I shrugged my shoulders. “Those vampires over there are drinking wine.”
Harlow raised a brow and gave me an Are you serious? look.
Right, that’s blood.
Atlas lurched toward us, each step a precarious balancing act. His massive wings knocked against passersby, and his clawed feet made a distinct click-click-click that somehow cut through the music. I couldn't tear my eyes away; he was nothing like the sleek, humanoid Mothman of my imagination.
As he twisted to hold on to a nearby table, I saw his butt, and it was far larger than I imagined. It had to be his thorax, that third section that most insects have, but instead it made him look like he had a juicy ass.
Which I was totally down with, by the way.
The jeans didn’t fit, so his juicy bum was just hanging out like a poorly made pair of chaps.
Harlow opened her mouth to say something, but I covered it with my hand. “Not a word. Not one word.”
Atlas finally made it to us. He loomed overhead, his insect-like head blocking the party lights.
Where a human mouth would be, there was only a harder surface, while two enormous red eyes dominated his face.
I could just make out the pair of tiny holes that must serve as his nose.
His antennae swayed above him like feathery question marks, and I had to clench my fists to keep from reaching up to stroke them. Not yet, I told myself. Not here.
He then crouched down lower to the ground so he could be at eye level with me. I watched in wonder, seeing the two tiny little fangs that sat just right out of his mouth and a tongue that uncoiled from it.
He flapped his wings several times, their beautiful dark patterns rippling like shadows on water.
I couldn't look away. Something primal stirred inside me—the same instinct that might have led ancient women to follow strange lights into the woods, knowing danger awaited but unable to resist the call.
Atlas was going to have to call me Kronos because I was going to swallow our children.
But instead, I said, “Atlas,” I breathed. “Those wings are beautiful.”
And they make me so unbelievably horny.
Atlas' eyes glowed brighter, like twin red moons pulling me into their orbit.
The party around us dissolved into a blur of meaningless shapes and sounds.
All that remained clear was the hypnotic rhythm of his wings unfurling and folding, each movement revealing intricate patterns I'd never noticed before.
I sighed. I was going to have to rest my feet on his shoulders soon.
My nipples hardened, and I leaned forward, waiting for him to say something. Anything. He was a guy of few words, but he was staring at me so intensely he had to say something important.
But instead he said, “I love lamp!”
I snapped out of my daze, blinking rapidly as reality crashed back.
Atlas had transformed into a whirlwind of motion—bouncing on his feet, wings beating so frantically they created actual gusts of wind.
He pranced around me in circles, dipping into exaggerated bows, while the hurricane from his wings sent empty chairs toppling and cocktails sloshing out of glasses all around us.
Atlas grabbed my leg. He was on his knees, hugging me, staring up at me with wide eyes. His wings fluttered faster, like a hummingbird’s. He rubbed his face all over my leg, his antennae tickling my waist.
People were staring. My heart pounded in my chest. I did not want all the attention on me, and I really doubted Atlas wanted this either.
What was wrong with him?
“Atlas?” I hissed. “What are you doing?”
He slumped to the floor and slowly moved up my body, his face staying close and taking every opportunity to rub up against me. Worst of all, my body liked it too much.
“Mmm, I love lamp. Kassie is the light.”
I touched the lampshade that was on top of my head and found the switch to turn off the light. That would get him to stop, right? When it clicked off, the crowd had been pushed back, and Mayor Hollow and Lucien were standing close to us.
“What is going on?” The mayor hissed and grabbed onto Atlas’ arm.
I narrowed my eyes at the Slenderman and pulled Atlas back to me. Atlas let out a high-pitched scream and grabbed hold of me. His face went right into my breasts, and he rubbed furiously into my breasts.
Em, okay?
“Mmm, my Kassie. My match,” he mumbled.
The Slenderman's mouth twitched once, then vanished completely. He looked down at Lucien, who stood rigid with what I could only assume was shock. Hard to tell with Mothmen. Their insect faces weren't exactly built for expressing surprise, or much of anything beyond "terrifying insect creature."
“Ah, well. This is, ah, nice. However, why is he acting like a fool?” The mayor reached forward and pulled a sticker off Atlas’ neck. “Why am I surrounded by idiots? Is there more than one on him?”
Lucien nodded. “Probably five?”
I petted Atlas’ head while they spoke. I didn’t know what was going on, but everyone else seemed to be relieved. Harlow was tilting her head back and forth and writing on a notepad. I could ask for details later because I’m going to need a change of panties soon.
“He’s in no position to do anything this evening. Lucien, why don’t you take him home? Miss Kassie, perhaps you and Atlas can see each other another time.”
My lips pulled back, baring teeth as I made a sound that started low in my throat and ended in a sharp hiss. The Slenderman, unamused, crossed his arms at my display. Around us, the party's rhythm stuttered to another halt, conversations dying mid-sentence as heads turned our way.
“No one tells me what to do. I will take care of Atlas until he gets better. I’ll take these things off him. I don’t know what you small-town druggies are up to.”
The mayor scoffed.
Atlas made a sound, a cross between a chitter and a whine.
He rubbed his head against my breasts, and I had to hold in a moan.
A pleasant smell of sandalwood and damp earth just after a heavy rain filled my nose.
It felt like a home I never had. It felt safe, despite his weird and strange habits right then.
I couldn’t let him go, not when this feels so good.
I cradled Atlas' head against me, his feathery antennae tickling my scalp like a crown.
We were locked in this strange dance of possession—neither willing to let the other go.
With surprising strength, Atlas inched forward and tugged me onto his lap in one fluid motion.
His arms encircled me completely as my ridiculous lamp hat tumbled to the floor, the bulb shattering with a delicate crash that nobody seemed to notice.
Lucien stood up straight, four arms displayed out in front of him. “Atlas has spoken! Best let the lady take care of him.”
The other Mothmen had gathered around as they all hummed together collectively.
Oh, my god, it’s a swarm.
The Slenderman slapped his hand on his face; his mouth gone, but the annoyance was clear.
“It’s alright, why don’t we take him to our place?” Harlow placated. “We can get some coffee in him tomorrow, and he will be good as new.” She came around and patted me on the shoulder.
Atlas quickly swatted her hand off, and she jumped back in surprise.
The Slenderman rubbed his chin.
Lucien spoke up, “I will keep an eye on them, be there at dawn to check on him, to bring him clothes.”
A silent conversation passed between the two of them.
They were wondering how to pass off Atlas when he looked like a human again. Little did they know…
Harlow put her hand on the Slenderman’s arm. “It will be alright. I can take his extra clothes to my house. Atlas can slip out and change. Heaven knows you originals don’t want to share your costume secrets, huh?” She adjusted the Slenderman’s tie, and I swear I saw him blush.
Lucien’s wings buzzed behind him. “Yes, yes. I’ll pick it up in the morning!” he chimed in.
The Slenderman nodded. “I suppose that will be all right.”
“Match,” Atlas trilled, his face burrowing deeper into my breasts.
Yes, my boobs match, you sweet little bug.
Lucien helped Atlas stand, reasoning with him he was to go home with me. My sleepy, humming Mothman was coming to my house.
Little did the big guy know he was about to experience the one bed-trope.