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Chapter One
The darkness beneath the trees is fluid, leaking between the gnarled and twisted trunks of the forest like spilled ink. It shifts with the wind as it howls through the night—almost like it’s alive and stalking me—as I follow the well-trodden path toward Blackwater Falls. The shadows dance and sway, seemingly avoiding the moonlight’s touch as it filters through the canopy in fragile shafts of glittering radiance. The moon hangs in the sky high above the world like a brilliant silver pendulum or a white-hot jewel.
It’s All Hallows’ Eve and it’s a picture-perfect fall night, which suits my purpose perfectly. Readjusting my bag on my shoulders, I can’t help the easy smile that creeps to my lips. Tonight, I hope to capture a truly breathtaking shot of the full moon hanging over the iconic falls. And if my photograph wins first place in the prestigious Western Viriginia Photography Awards, the five-thousand-dollar cash prize will be mine!It’s enough to start over.Just.
I’ll be able to afford a reliable car for the road trip and a few weeks’ rent up-front when I arrive in New Orleans. I might have to find work along the way because nothing burns coin like gas … but to get out of here, I’d do anything.
Point Pleasant might be where I was born, but it’s not where I’ll die. My parents never made it out of this fucking State, but I will. I must. This place haunts me, and I can’t stand it, and I won’t. I refuse. Not for any longer than I absolutelyhave to.
Once I reach Louisiana, I can live the life I’ve always wanted. I can try and make a living from my art, make a real business of it. And life doesn’t get more thriving, colorful, or interesting than it does in the old French Quarter. It’s where I want to be, and that’s why I’m here trekking to Blackwater Falls on Halloween. This is my chance and I’m going to seize it like a lifeline with both hands.
Hugging myself against the chill, I continue through the dark, until something unusual and unexpected catches my eye. I stop and do a double take, squinting through the shadows to make sense of what I’m seeing.What the fuck?It’s … a locket—a real silver locket glittering beneath transient moonbeams. Approaching the branch from which it’s dangling, I inspect the trinket by what limited, dappled light there is. It’s beautiful and ornate but tarnished heavily by time and the elements.
Taking the locket in my hands, I trace my fingers over its surface, admiring its delicate heart shape and the floral filigree decorating its surface. “What are you doing here?” I ask aloud, my brows furrowing in thought.Is it lost or stolen property?Who would leave such a timeless treasure hanging from a tree exposed to the weather?Reaching for my phone, Iwrangleit one-handed, turning on the light to better inspect the trinket.
With hesitant, careful fingers I open the heart to find a tiny, sepia-stained photograph of a man. Tilting my head, my curiosity aroused, Ipeerat the photo as my eyes adjust to the light. The man is handsome as far as I can tell, with a strong jaw, a serious expression, and short, slicked-back hair. He seems like a gentleman of a bygone era. Being sepia, and judging by the silversmithing of the locket, it must have been taken some time in the late 1800s.This is a fucking heirloom! A piece of history, I marvel.
Depending on who this man is, this could be worth a fortune. The jewelry alone makes it a timeless antique that deserves to be locked behind glass in a museum. So, what the hell is it doing hanging from a tree? Surely if this were hanging here earlier, during the day, some opportunistic bastard would have stolen it…
Which can only mean that someone hung it out here tonight. But I haven’t encountered another living soul. The trail through Blackwater Falls State Park is dead silent, devoid of everything but the sounds of nature. I don’t imagine anyone in their right mind would venture out here after dark. Especially not on Halloween.
Most folk in Point Pleasant are heavily superstitious, though they’d never admit itin this day and age. The cryptid icon of Western Virginia supposedly calls this town home—the elusive and terrifying Mothman of legend. First spotted in 1966, the rumors and sightings have circulated ever since. We even have an artistic metal statue of the monster on Main Street. It’s a bit of a draw card when it comes to tourism for the area.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m a fan of monsters. They’re cool. They make for great horror movies and fun fiction, but anyone with a brain knows that shit isn’t real. There’s no God, no Devil, and certainly no fucking Mothman. Obviously. Pursing my lips, I can’t bring myself to leave the locket. There’s no guarantee that someone with less honorable intentions won’t take it in the morning.
At least if I take it, I can protect it until I’m able to get it valued and investigated. It might belong to a family that still lives in town.Maybe I could reunite them with their precious heirloom! I imagine there’s quite a story behind it.I slip it carefully over the ends of the branch and secure it around my own neck for safekeeping until I get home. If it’s around my neck, I can’t lose it in the dark.
With a smile at my find, I move to step forward, only for my brows to scrunch again. I hadn’t noticed at first, but there’s a small trail that leads off the well-worn path by the tree from which the locket was hanging.Curious. I wonder where it leads?Being a bit of a “curiosity killed the cat” type, my heart leaps with excitement at the prospect of adventure. Judging from the direction it disappears into the forest, it just may lead to a lesser-known vantage point above the falls. And that idea has potential.
I won’t be the first photographer to capture a nice shot of Blackwater Falls, but maybe I’ll be able to snap an angle that hasn’t been seen before. Perhaps that’s what will help me secure a win—a unique view of one of the most popular tourist attractions in our State. Before I even consciously decide, I know I’m sold. The temptation is too great. The moon is bright, I have all my equipment, and a blazing hope for a new beginning. It’s all I need.
Maybe this is Fate?
Sucking a deep breath into my lungs—the promise of a better future ahead of me—I glance down at the locket hanging between my breasts and set off down the obscure trail and into the night.
Chapter Two
The trail is narrow, and damp shrubbery brushes against my shoulders as I pass. I feel the moisture soak into my thin leggings as I go but shrug it off. What’s a little discomfort for a chance to start over? The path winds this way and that, meandering in an odd pattern that slowly follows the incline of the mountain.
An owl flusters and hoots nearby, perhaps offended by my trespassing so close to her nest.
“I’m just passing through,” I say,spyingher magnificent golden orbs in the darkness of the treetops. “Never mind me.” A smile quirks my lips as I move on. I can’t imagine how wonderful the freedom of having wings must be. Flying anywhere you want, whenever you want—with nothing and no one to stop you! It must be marvelous. If I had wings, I’d leave this place and soar high above the world, skimming clouds and dancing with the wind.
A sigh escapes me, and I forge ahead, readjusting the straps of my camera bag. The night fills me with a sense of wonder. I may not be superstitious, but I love Halloween. It’s a great holiday. Fall is one of my favorite times of year, and the decorations and festivities fit my Gothic style to aT. All I need to see are a few bats silhouetted against the brilliance of the moon, or the Mothman, and myAll Hallows’Eve will be perfect.
The wind begins to pick up and I regret not grabbing my scarf on the way out as the chill breeze raises the tiny hairs on the back of my neck. I shiver involuntarily. The evening is satisfyingly crisp, but with the added wind chill it’sdefinitely cold. It feels like it’s going right through me, like a ghost transcending my flesh to steal all the warmth from my soul.Come on, Penny, I chastise myself.Ghosts? Really. As if!
Time loses all meaning as I trudge on. The twisting, secret path seems to have no end. But it does end—eventually. My breath catches in my throat, my stomach drops, and my legs turn to jelly at the sight before me. A yawning maw of pitch-black darkness rears out of the earth like a pit of despair, swallowing all natural light that dares enter.
“Whoa.” Every instinct screams at me that this was a mistake. My gut warms me to turn back and find an alternate route to the Falls, but another part of me yearns to risk life and limb for the sake of adventure. Where could it go? Why is it here? I can only guess. I’m alone and cell reception out here is sketchy at best. I’d be mad to go in. I stand at the cave entrance, dangling upon the precipice of indecision.
What if I fall? What if I damage or lose my camera equipment? I don’t know where this hole leads, and if something happened to me, how long would it be until someone raised the alarm? How long until they began their search? Would they find me? I told no one where I was headed tonight.There was no one to tell.I grimace. With my parents gone, I’m practically alone in this world. I’ve grown used to being independent and making ends meet all on my own.
It’s just me, myself, and I. If I don’t make my dreams a reality, I’ll end up stuck here, forced to endure a monotonous and unfulfilling life of shift work at the Seven Eleven in town. The thought gives me pause. I don’t have insurance. If I get hurt there’s no one to take care of me, either. But despite every rational and logical reason to walk away and never look back, I find my feet taking steps forward, toward the impenetrable, inky gloom.
Maybe I can explore just a little way in? A peek couldn’t hurt, could it? A distant voice on the wind calls out, or is it a bird screeching? Or perhaps my mind is playing tricks on me as nerves get the better of me.There’s no one here, I assure myself.Stop being a baby. It’s just a peek!Steeling my nerves, I shrug off my bag and leave it by the cave mouth. It’ll be safer here, and I’ll be more sure-footed if I’m unburdened. Checking my phone battery, my signal plunges to zero.
“Just a peek,” I whisper. Raising my phone before me to light the way, I glance over my shoulder at the picturesque night once more, then step into the darkness. The ground beneath my feet is strangely smooth, as if worn down by feet over a long passage of time. Strange. The rest of the area surrounding the cave looks wild and untouched. Aside from the narrow path, there’s no sign that this route is frequented by more than the odd explorer. It’s too overgrown—too hidden.Weird.
