Page 3 of Venom Within Her

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.

2

Ilona

On my day off, I decided to take Bev’s suggestion and check out the park first. I had yet to explore the actual town, and it seemed to make sense to do that first before wandering outward.

One thing this town had going for it was amazing coffee. Roasterz was right across from Bev’s Books and I’d gone there every morning since I’d arrived. It was definitely for the coffee and not Stellan, the masculine-presenting woman behind the counter who wore her rainbow pins proudly on her nametag.

She wasn’t my typical type, but I didn’t have many options around here. Although I was avoiding relationships, that didn’t mean I couldn’t look, or at least enjoy a little bit of fun. Today, she was at the register instead of the machines, so I had a chance to talk to her.

My heavy boots squeaked on the pristine tile as I entered the cafe. The warmth inside immediately sucked me in like a hug, chasing away the chill of the gloomy day. The decadent scent of coffee drifted through the air and invaded my senses, effortlessly putting me at ease as soft jazz played in the background. There was something so calming about having a regular spot and a familiar routine.

I fluffed my hand through my flat curls, making sure they sat just right around my head as I approached the counter. Stellan smiled; wide, toothy and symmetrical. Her short, platinum blonde hair was perfectly combed to the side, so light it almost blended into her skin.

“Good morning, what can I get for you?” She rested on her elbows on the counter. I searched my body for a reaction, coming up short. Maybe I was just excited to see another lesbian in town. Maybe I wasn’t into her at all.

“Good morning,” I pushed away the odd disappointment growing in my chest, “just a black coffee, please.”

She chuckled as she scribbled my order onto a paper cup and placed it next to the barista behind her, “Like to keep it simple, huh?”

I nodded and pulled out my wallet, but she held her hand out to stop me.

“Oh, no, it's on the house. You’re new here, right?” Her voice dropped just a bit and was laced with a certain intention.

“Yeah, I’ve been here for about a week. I’m Ilona.” I held my hand out and she grabbed it gently.