Each week, I send out a story via my email newsletter. Each story is around 1000 words, sometimes less, sometimes more. The stories are in a variety of genres: supernatural, thriller, sci-fi, horror, and sometimes romance, and all of my stories typically feature a gay protagonist.
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This is story number 1 of the series. Enjoy!
The Last Stop
Asher shifted uncomfortably in his seat, trying to stretch his legs in the cramped space between the rows. The Greyhound bus rumbled down the vacant highway, tall grass and gnarled trees whipping by under a dull gray sky that seemed to press down from above. He was beginning to regret not shelling out the extra cash for a plane ticket back to Chicago, but funds were tight since he’d quit his accounting job to “find himself.”
A lot of good that had done. Two weeks at a silent meditation retreat in the middle of Bumblefuck, Kansas and he was still just as lost as ever. Maybe even more so. But there was something about the bleak, barren landscape that left him feeling unsettled. A sense of emptiness and isolation that seemed to seep into his bones.
He sighed and glanced around at the other passengers – a strange collection of weary, furtive-looking people. An old woman clutched a worn cat carrier, a college-aged girl with purple hair gazed listlessly out the window, a surly man with prison tattoos scowled at nothing in particular…
Asher’s breath caught as his eyes landed on a man a few rows ahead. Thick dark hair, sharp cheekbones, bronzed skin. When he turned to smile at something his seatmate said, Asher swore he felt his heart skip a beat.
Suddenly, the long journey ahead seemed a bit less daunting.
He was debating the least awkward way to strike up a conversation with the handsome stranger when the bus gave a sudden, violent lurch. He braced against the seat as the vehicle swerved, tires squealing against asphalt.
“What the hell?” someone shouted as the driver wrestled with the wheel, teeth bared in a snarl of effort. But it was no use. With a sickening crunch of metal, the bus careened off the road and slammed to a halt, halfway in a ditch.
Pain exploded through Asher’s skull as his head cracked against the window. Through blurred vision, he saw the other passengers picking themselves up, heard them groan and swear. Wincing, he touched the rapidly swelling knot on his temple.
“Is everyone okay?” the driver called out, his voice shaking.
A chorus of affirmative grumbles answered him. Miraculously, it seemed no one had been seriously hurt. Asher glanced toward the handsome stranger and felt a rush of relief to see him apparently unharmed, already helping an elderly gentleman back into his seat. A real gentleman. Figured.
The handsome stranger was suddenly crouching beside him, brow creased in concern. “You alright, man?” His voice was low and warm, sending a shiver down Asher’s back that had nothing to do with pain. He gestured to the wound on Asher’s head. “That looks pretty nasty.”
Asher’s tongue felt thick and clumsy in his mouth. “Y-yeah. I’m good. Thanks.”
The man flashed him a heartbreaker of a smile. “I’m Diego, by the way.” He held out a hand to help Asher up. “Some welcome to Kansas, huh?”
Asher huffed a strained laugh as he let Diego pull him to his feet. “Guess I should’ve flown after all.”
Before Diego could respond, a bloodcurdling scream then a crash tore through the bus. A moment later, the old woman stumbled into the aisle, face a mask of terror, thrusting her carrier at the bus driver.
“It took him! It took Mr. Whiskers!” The carrier hung open and empty. Four deep claw gouges gashed the plastic, far too large for any housecat…
Icy realization crept through Asher as he noticed the matching marks on the open emergency exit door. The bus erupted into panicked shouts, the driver struggling to maintain order. But Asher barely heard the chaos. His eyes were locked on Diego, noting the tense set of his jaw and the way his hand crept toward the pocket of his jacket…
“We need to move,” Diego said, voice strained. “Now.”
Asher didn’t hesitate. Together, they slipped out the mangled door, stumbling out into the overgrown field. The gray-green stalks rasped against their legs as they pushed deeper in, until the road disappeared behind a veil of swaying grass and the shouts faded to eerie silence.
Asher collapsed against the rusted shell of an abandoned tractor, struggling to catch his breath. Fear and exertion burned in his lungs. “What the hell is going on?”
For a long moment, Diego said nothing. Then, jaw clenched tight, he spoke. “It’s a Ciguapa. A creature from Caribbean lore. It hunts down the lost, drags them into the wild to devour. Its scream was just the way my abuela described it.”
A strangled, hysterical laugh burst from Asher’s chest. “Oh, is that all? And here I was worried.”
“I know how it sounds,” Diego snapped. “But something tore up that carrier. Something big. And those four claw marks…It’s said that if four claw marks appear, then a Ciguapa is close by.” He shook his head, pulling a small cloth pouch from his pocket. “This is from my abuela. Said it’d keep me safe from evil on the road.”
Asher opened his mouth, but the retort died on his tongue as a bone-chilling shriek cut through the air. A sound of pure, ravenous hunger that sent terror singing through his veins. It was close.
Through the swaying stalks, a dark shape loped toward them, moving with uncanny speed and grace. Asher’s heart seized as it burst into the clearing. A nightmarish tangle of matted fur and mottled skin, eyes glowing an unearthly green, and the stench – god, the putrid reek of death and decay…
“Fuck,” Diego breathed. “It’s found us.”
Diego thrust the pouch out like a shield, chanting something low and rapid under his breath. For a moment, the creature faltered.
Then it lunged, swatting him aside like a doll. Diego crumpled to the ground and went still, the pouch torn from his grasp.
“No!” Asher scrambled to him on numb legs, reaching for the fallen pouch without thought. He could feel the creature’s eyes boring into him, could hear the click of its claws against stone…
But it made no move to attack. It was as if some invisible barrier held it at bay.
“I don’t know what you are,” Asher heard himself say, voice eerily calm. “But you can’t have him. You can’t have either of us.”
The creature let out a baleful hiss, then, to Asher’s shock, began to transform before his eyes. Matted fur receded, limbs lengthened and straightened, until a stunning woman stood in its place, nude and glorious. Her dark hair tumbled past her waist, olive skin glowed in the gray light. She fixed him with a smoldering look, crooking a finger.
“Come to me, lost one,” she purred, voice like smoky bourbon. “I can give you pleasures you’ve never dreamed…”
For a moment, Asher wavered, transfixed. Then his gaze dropped to her feet and a chill raced up his spine. They were facing backward, toes where the heel should be.
He barked a strained laugh. “Sorry lady, you’re barking up the wrong tree. I’m gay.”
Her face contorted in fury, beauty melting back into something feral and vicious. With an ear-splitting shriek, she vanished in a swirl of shadow, leaving only the scent of rot behind.
And just like that, between one blink and the next, the creature was gone. Vanished into the swaying grass as if it had never been.
With a groan, Diego stirred, eyes fluttering open. “What happened?”
In halting words, Asher relayed the creature’s transformation and attempted seduction. Diego nodded grimly.
“They can take the form of a beautiful woman to lure their prey. But you resisted her. Guess she went hunting for an easier meal.”
Asher had no answer. He stared down at the innocuous little pouch in his hand, trying to comprehend the incomprehensible. All his life, he’d dismissed the supernatural as foolish superstition. But now…
He wondered how many other dark things lurked out there in the forgotten places, lying in wait for the unlucky and the unwary. How many other mysteries waited in the shadows of the world.
Perhaps it was better not to know.
In silence, they limped back toward the distant wail of sirens, leaving the lonely field and its secrets behind.