Venom Within Her (Creatures of Cutwood #1)

1

Ilona

“So, how are you liking Cutwood?”

My manager and owner of the bookstore where I worked, Bev, leaned over the counter where I sat. Her messy, orange hair was pulled up into a bun. She looked up at me with big, green eyes through dark lashes. Way too energetic for nine in the morning.

It was slow and usually I would have liked it, but Bev could be talkative and I was the complete opposite, preferring silence while I worked.

She meant well and I was grateful to her for giving me this job with little to no experience.

Since our video call a few weeks before I moved, she had made it her mission to make me feel welcome in Cutwood, so I shoved down my antisocial tendencies for the time being.

“So far it’s been great.” I sipped my coffee, shifting my gaze back down to the stack of bookmarks I was organizing.

I took a moment to admire my freshly painted, black nails. It may be a small thing to some, but having the authority to pick my nail color again, especially one so dark, was a freedom I’d spent way too long without. Just looking at them made me feel lighter.

I could feel Bev’s gaze burning into me like she was waiting for some kind of elaboration.

“Still a lot of unpacking to do. I think I’ll explore the woods behind my house after that, though. They’re gorgeous.” I added, hoping it was enough for her to move on.

“Oh,” her voice dropped as she raised her eyebrows. She had a mischievous glimmer in her eye. “Well, don’t wander too deep. There are stories about those woods.”

My stomach twisted. Not with fear, but intrigue. I had always been a sucker for a good mystery or horror story. I already had so much curiosity about this town and the secrets it held; getting some local lore only made it better.

I leaned in, dropping my stack of bookmarks on the counter. I was suddenly thankful for my coworker’s yapping. “What kind of stories?”

She sighed, shaking her head. “I don’t know. You just got here, I don’t want to scare you off.”

“Oh, come on. How bad could it be? Besides, all my money is wrapped up in that place; there’s no way I’m bailing.”

Apparently, she didn’t need much convincing. She leaned in closer, her voice almost squeaking in excitement.

“Legend says there are creatures that live there: half-human, half-monster, preying on those who cross it.”

I raised my brows, skeptical. I’d only been working at Bev’s Books for three days, and with the number of stories she had told me in that time, it made it hard to believe most of what she said.

“Don’t take my word for it.” She pushed off the counter and disappeared into the aisles, emerging a few moments later with an old, worn green cloth book. She tossed it on the counter, “Read all about it.”

I took it gently, careful not to tear the already fraying spine. It reminded me of the old, leatherbound notebook I’d found in my grandmother’s things, the reason I’d sought out Cutwood in the first place. I flipped through a few pages, skimming over the faded words and yellowing paper.

“Maybe start with Shiver Park. There are loads of huge trees to read under,” she leaned in again, “and a skatepark with all the cute boys.”

I rolled my eyes, for reasons she obviously didn’t understand. Another reason I’d escaped to Cutwood, to get away from all the men my family and the church had thrown at me.

“Men, I mean. Not boys. At least the ones around our age. Unless you’re into retired, well-off old men, then maybe you’ll find one at the bar we go to tonight.”

She winked and I could feel the bile rising in my throat. Maybe I would have to tell her soon.

~

The rest of my shift passed uneventfully. Bev yapped my ear off for the rest of the day about stupid things like the town’s most eligible bachelors. I just smiled and listened, biting my tongue and counting down the minutes until closing time.

She obviously didn’t know I didn’t like men, and I didn’t really care.

The last thing I needed was her trying to introduce me to every woman who was interested in women…

or worse, look at me differently for being a lesbian.

Besides, from what I’d seen of the residents of this town, none of the women were my type anyway.

A relationship was the last thing I needed. Moving across the country to Cutwood was my way to escape many things, including love. I needed to start over and build a life for myself, by myself, before I even thought of considering a partner.

A wave of regret washed through me as I pushed through the door of the only bar in town. Hundreds of unique voices blended into one overwhelming tornado around me; it was like every person in town was there. I craned my neck around, looking for Bev’s bright orange hair.

“Ilona!” I could hear her loud, distinct voice clearly.

She was settled in a booth tucked into the corner.

She waved me over and I cursed myself for not politely declining her invitation.

I knew she was just trying to be nice, and I appreciated her trying to help me feel at home in a brand new town, but the booth was absolutely full of people and there was nothing I hated more than a crowd.

This one would be fully focused on me as the new girl.

I made my way over slowly, twisting through the sea of sweating bodies.

When I finally was spit out on the other side, I sucked in a breath of relief.

Bev scooched over, pressing her friends closer together to make space for me.

I was thankful to be right on the edge in case I needed to make a quick escape.

“Here she is!” Bev squealed over the music. “Everyone, this is Ilona.”

I waved shyly, my heart slamming against my ribs.

I had never been great at meeting new people, especially in a group setting.

Everyone went around introducing themselves, but I couldn’t remember their names as I chanted calming affirmations in my mind.

It’s just a few hours. They don’t hate you. You have nothing to prove.

“You okay?” Bev squeezed my elbow under the table.

I snapped my head up, “Yes, sorry. It’s nice to meet you all.”

“So where are you from?” A blonde boy across the table asked me. My stomach twisted. I hated that question. I wasn’t prepared to hash out my whole past.

“The south,” I was as honest as I was willing to be, no matter how vague.

The blonde boy, whose name I didn’t catch, raised his brows as he drained the last of his beer. “Really? I would’ve never guessed.”

“Uh, why not?” I wish I hadn’t asked; my stomach filled with more uncertainty.

“I don’t know,” he shrugged as his gaze skimmed over my body. “You don’t have that whole southern belle look.”

He was right, of course. If he had met me just a few months before, his opinion would’ve been the exact opposite.

The new look I’d adopted since deciding to leave my hometown was dramatic.

I dyed my hair, got a ton of tattoos, and completely changed my wardrobe.

The southern belle had morphed into alt-Barbie almost overnight.

Before I could respond, the girl next to him slapped his arm. “Shut up, Jake. You can’t just say stuff like that.” She leaned over and covered my hand with hers. “I love your look, very different. Very cool.”

“Thank you,” I pasted on my fakest smile before pushing to my feet. “I’m going to go get a drink.”

“I’ll come with you!” I held my hand up to stop Bev as she lifted from her seat.

“It’s all good, I’ll be right back.” I scurried away as fast as I could, back into the sea of bodies.

“Stupid, you made her uncomfortable.” I heard Bev scold Jake as I walked away.

Strangely, I felt a bit calmer in a crowd of swaying bodies that weren’t focused on me. Maybe I just wasn’t ready to make friends. Maybe I needed to settle first before inviting a whole cluster of people into my life.

I lightly shimmied my way through the crowd. When the bar was finally in sight, I was slammed to the side, my phone flying from my hand.

“Ooooh my I’m sooo sorry!” A very drunk girl leaned into me, slurring her words in my ear.

I shrugged her off gently, “It’s okay.”

It was a struggle to find my phone between the stomping, dancing feet, but I finally spotted it. I pushed my way over and bent over to scoop it up. A harsh sting spread across my ass cheek. I gasped, my skin crawling as I felt a large hand smooth over the burning mark.

I whipped my head around, the words ‘what the fuck” already spitting from my lips. But before I could retaliate, the man who I assumed had just groped me was catching a large, tattooed fist to the face.

Everything blurred around me; all the bodies around me were moving in slow motion. The two, my assaulter and my savior, were rolling around on the floor in a tangle of muscles and limbs. I wanted to stay to thank whoever avenged me, but I was already backing away.

I charged for the door, almost making it outside to the cool, sweet night air, when two hands grasped my shoulders. I shook them off violently, terrified that the assailant had escaped and was coming after me.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay. It’s me.” I turned to see Bev standing there, her eyes wide with concern. “I saw what happened back there. Are you okay?”

My chest tightened, a strange pull tugging at the place where my heart thumped. I kneaded the skin there, attempting to rub it away.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I think I’m gonna head out, though.”

She smiled, rubbing my shoulders before pulling my phone from her back pocket and handing it to me. “I totally understand. Want me to walk you home?”

“Thank you!” I pulled her into a light hug. “And it’s okay, stay and have fun. I’ll get a ride.”

“Sounds good, get home safe. I’ll see you at the shop.”

I spun on my heels, almost sprinting out the door. As soon as the soothing air kissed my skin and the voices muffled behind the closed doors, I was able to relax again. The only thing that remained was the faint tug of my heart.

~

I was happy to be home and in bed. As soon as I made it out of that bar, I decided it would be a while before I tried to go out and make friends again.

I washed the entire day off in a scolding shower, then tried to focus on my current, smutty read, but the book Bev loaned me sat like a beacon on my nightstand. I set my chamomile tea down and scooped it into my lap.

It was some sort of history book all about Cutwood. I skipped through almost everything, pausing when I got near the end, where a picture of a pointy-tailed creature filled the page.

The story was short and to the point. Creatures, half-human and half-monster with poison-filled tails, appeared one day hundreds of years ago and terrorized the entire town of Cutwood.

The people formed a mob and hunted the creatures, killing all of them off one by one until they were safe again.

Some believed that the creatures still lurked in the shadows, hiding deep within the trees and killing anyone who dared to get near.

It sounded like your typical, small-town, urban legend.

I was sure the details had been tweaked to glorify the men of the town.

Part of me wondered if the creatures were a normal species we know today, and if the people of the town were just scared of what they didn’t know.

It wouldn’t be surprising if there was still something in the forest killing people off, I would too if my entire kind was massacred.

Either way, the story didn’t have the effect I assumed Bev was hoping for. I wasn’t scared or turned off from the idea of exploring the woods. If anything, the story made this sleepy town seem a bit more interesting.

I gazed out my window that overlooked the edge of the forest. Squinting, I wondered what was out there and how close it really was. It would be such a waste to avoid an entire, gorgeous forest for one stupid story.

All my life, nature had been my safe place. No matter where I was, as long as I stepped out into the woods, sat by a stream, or basked in the sun, I was okay. It was the reason I chose this tiny home on the treeline.

I returned the book to my nightstand and dug into the drawer, pulling out Nana’s journal.

I smoothed my fingers over the cool, worn leather, my heart squeezed with grief and nostalgia.

My mind wandered to nights spent with her, when I could breathe a little easier and be nothing but myself.

I remembered sitting on the floor next to her and she scribbled down page after page in identical journals to the one I held.

Settling back into my propped-up pillows, I flipped the journal open almost halfway through.

A black and white photo that I’d seen only a few times before fell out.

Nana didn’t look a day over 19. My fingers ghosted over her smiling, smooth, dark skin and I settled my gaze on the man standing next to her with his arms wrapped around her waist.

He definitely wasn’t my grandpa. He was much more handsome and looked a lot more pleasant.

Nana never smiled the way she did in this picture around him.

I turned the photograph over, smiling as I read over the single sentence that drew me to the small, gloomy town of Cutwood: Where I found myself and love. Cutwood, 1959.

I sighed, folding the picture back into the pages of the journal. Nana and I had talked for countless hours before she passed away. She told me hundreds of stories about her childhood and her full, eventful life, but Cutwood had never been mentioned.

I unfortunately didn’t find this picture until after she had passed, but since the moment I saw it, I felt the overwhelming urge to travel here and see what it was all about.

What was so special about this sleepy town that Nana called it the place she’d found herself, but also felt the need to keep it a secret?

I hadn’t found my answer yet, but since the second I stepped foot in Cutwood, I knew there was something different about it.

Something in the air lifted my spirits and made me want to stay. Something that felt like home.

As I turned to replace the diary and grab my tea, a blur of black flashed in my peripheral. My head shot back, eyes skimming the treeline. Leaves ruffled and shook, like something had just skittered through them.

My chest ached, not with fear, but a strange pull. It was unlike anything I’d felt before. I brushed it off as my overdeveloped curiosity, but as I lay down to fall asleep, all I could dream about was walking outside and disappearing into the unknown woods.