Scarecrow Mountain

Everyone called him a fool. Well, not everyone. Some said he was crazy. What none said to him was good deal. That it was a good move. Not one. But Derrick didn’t care. Old lady Grisham’s place sold for half its value. Half of what it should have been worth. There were over three hundred acres in the parcel, seventy-five of which went up the side of Scarecrow Mountain. The remaining lay in the valley. Fertile soil that had not been farmed since 1987 when her husband died. There were rumors about his death. That he was killed by some animal. They had found him on the side of the mountain after being missing for a day. Over the years the details of his death grew more gruesome with each retelling.

Derrick was too young to know anything about Mr. Grisham’s death. But he had heard the rumors about Mrs. Grisham. Her crazy stories of being visited by an elf, or a ghoul, and then for years till the end of her life, she claimed a guardian angel by the name of Suruel watched out over her.  She had been seen wandering her property, sometimes wearing a night shirt with her hair sticking out. Her children had moved away, one in Denver, one in Richmond and one down in south Florida somewhere, exactly where no one was sure. This left her alone, and to some in the community, left her to go slowly crazy.

When the sale was being prepared, the oldest daughter flying in from Denver to sign the papers, Derrick had to listen to every crazy story that had been told. At the general store he heard about the elf that had visited her after Mr. Grisham died. It came to her, comforted her in her time of need and made the crops yield that summer when drought had hurt everyone else. Or that is the story. At the diner over in Rayburn he heard about the ghoul, the creature that came down the mountain at night and drove away the coyotes and bears, and the thieves that tried to break into the barn. They have found the thieves five miles up the road, running down the middle of it, having left their car behind. When the sheriff stopped them, they rambled on and on about a monster with six legs coming after them.

There had been other events. High school boys who dared each other to climb over the mountain from the north, from the property owned by a paper mill. They had gone missing for three days before showing up on Rocky Creek Road, the narrow dirt road that passed by Mrs. Grisham’s place. They were stripped to their boxers or briefs, filthy from head to toe and unable to tell anyone where they had been for those three days. Ten years ago, some guys came into the area from Georgia to hunt for deer and wandered onto the mountain. Before they could get back down, one had accidentally shot one of the others, putting him in the hospital for a week. A third one fell, breaking both legs and the fourth got separated from them, turning up a day later covered in scratches and some sort of rash that left his skin blistered. The rumors said it was some sort of chemical burn, but the doctors didn’t know from what. But the strangest thing was none of them remembered a thing about what happened on the mountain. The doctors said there was drugs involved, what type, they didn’t know.

Derrick got to hear each story told again, and some others he had not heard before. And at the end of every conversation, he was told he was a fool, or crazy, to buy that old woman’s place.

But Derrick didn’t really believe in ghouls, or elves or angels for that matter. They were all mythical beasts. Made up creatures by scared people trying to explain things they didn’t understand. He knew there was a logical explanation for everything and all one had to do was carefully analyze the situation and work out the truth. Each scientific discovery eroded the old myths till few remained, and he was sure this one would too.

He moved into the house in September, the days getting shorter but still holding on to the heat of summer. He didn’t have much in the way of furniture, since he was only nineteen and just leaving his parents home for the first time. He had his double size bed, one that had belonged to his Aunt when his mother and her where children. There was a nightstand that had belonged to his great grandmother and a dresser his mother had found at a flea market in Monroeville. The fact none of it matched made Derrick love each piece more. Since the acceptance of his offer, he had been going to furniture stores and outlets, browsing online and even stopping at yard sales and one estate sale in Greenville. He accumulated a few things; a small round dining table with four chairs. Two armchairs and a sofa that had a wood frame with burnt orange cushions. His mother said it was mid-century modern, but all he knew was he liked it for some reason and thus, bought it. He bought a new refrigerator for the kitchen and a washer and dryer for the small laundry room that had been created from a portion of the back porch at some time in the past.

He got moved in and for a few nights contemplated what to put on the walls, all them still bare. He had taken a photography class in high school and considered framing some of the shots. His best friend was an artist who painted on the side while going to college to be a nurse. He considered asking her for a painting, willing to pay what she would ask for it. His mother had suggested a mirror over the fireplace, but he wasn’t sure. Maybe in the front entry hall would be a better location for a mirror he told her as she went through his house telling him what he needed to do.

It only took a day to get moved in. He went through the few boxes he had packed, and soon had the closet filled with his clothes. In the kitchen he unpacked all the new silverware and utensils, the new pots and pans his parents had given him and the groceries his mother had insisted on buying, even though she kept telling him to come home for dinner every evening.

A week after getting moved in, the place starting to feel like home, he found himself walking the property in the late afternoons. The sun would be low in the sky, his shadow long across the ground, as he would walk along one fence line or another, or skirt along the foot of the mountain, telling himself to wait till winter when the leaves were gone before venturing up its slope. He saw odd divots in the ground along the edge of the woods at the mountain’s base, evenly spaced, in patterns of three or six. He first thought it might be wild boar rooting around, then maybe it was bear scratching at the ground. Problem was there was no animal tracks among them.

He walked in the evenings for days, as he planned how to use the land. The fields were to go back into cultivation, with plans to put the breaking plow in them this fall. The old barn needed repairs, but the basic frame of the structure was sound. He listed the work that needed to be done; new roof, new doors, a coat of paint, and pour a concrete slab inside to get rid of the dirt floor.  He ambled along the edge of the woods looking at trees he could take out, a thinning of the woods to allow the more mature trees room to grow.

It was late on a Saturday when he was looking at the trees along the western section of property, a place where a spring fed stream cascaded down the mountain. It continued across the edge of the property till it went under the road and down to the main creek behind the Miller’s place. He stepped over it and up into the woods about fifty feet when he heard something move through the undergrowth. He froze for a moment, wondering if it were a deer. He scanned the darkening shadow for a white tail that he expected to see bouncing away.

It was during these times when he allowed himself to consider his situation. He was gaining independence. A place of his own. He had been in such a hurry to do so, desperate even, for it meant he might begin to have the opportunity to pursue other guys. He knew since he was fourteen, he was gay. He had struggled all through high school with this fact. He didn’t know what was worse. The build up to the proms when everyone tried to fix him up, or just the weekly routine of his friends going out on dates and asking him why he didn’t ask someone out. He thought about how he would go about looking for someone. Another guy that would hopefully live nearby, someone who would want to date, have cookouts and have the sex he was craving. He hated still being a virgin at nineteen, but his school was small, less than fifty in his graduating class so the opportunities to even meet another guy who was gay was nearly impossible. The possibilities played in his mind, scenarios he hoped would come true. He could almost feel it, and it aroused him. He tugged on his cock, uncomfortable in its half hard state, trapped within his jeans. He was tempted to take it out, to masturbate right where he stood. Then he the noise again. He froze, alert to every sound and eyes searching for any movement. He thought it had to be a deer or worse, a bear, the latter not something he wanted to walk up on.

Crouched down behind a tree, he waited. Listening for any sound and watching for any movement, he waited, barely breathing. Suddenly something was running through the woods. It sounded large, like a bear, only it was heading up the mountain. He saw understory trees sway or get knocked over. Debris was kicked up as whatever it was raced up the steep slope. Frozen in place, afraid to move, he wondered what it could be. It sounded like more than one animal. The thud of feet hitting the ground too numerous for only one.

Then it was quiet.

Derrick lay in bed that night wondering what was on the mountain. By now he had convinced himself it had to be a bear with a cub or a small herd of deer. It was the only thing that made sense. Rolling to his side, he stared out the window, the blinds pulled up revealing the darkness outside. He couldn’t see anything, but he wasn’t trying to. It was the quiet, the darkness, that relaxed him, made him drowsy. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

It moved down the mountain, crab like, its six legs working in rhythm. It came into the field and looked toward the structure built by the humans, the place they referred to as home. It felt lonely, isolated. Mrs. Grisham had been there for so long, and it had come to her, taking whatever form she needed. The latter strange, this winged human, but it saw how it comforted her. Gave her a peace of mind. It had done it before. Over the years, for eons of time, it had taken that form and many others, all for the contact with the human species it afforded.

Now the home was occupied by another. A male of the species. He sensed his arrival, observed him, listened to his thoughts. Images formed in its mind; emotional needs made manifest in physical forms. It saw the male form, and it was aroused. It knew this wasn’t a need for breeding but a need simply for the intimacy. It didn’t fully understand but it felt this need. This want of another. It had felt it over the eons in many forms, including this one.

It moved toward the home, hidden within the darkness of night, its black body blended into the shadows. Slipping over the fence and across the yard, it moved to the place it could observe him, see him in repose, resting in sleep. For a long time, it stood at the window watching this male species, the one call Derrick. It watched him as he turned to his back then over to his other side, back to the window.

It was going to wait, let some time pass before it came to Derrick. Wait for some sign Derrick was in need. But it had been lonely for too long. Desperate for some contact with another of some intelligence. There was so much the human species didn’t understand but their attempt at doing so appealed to it, made it want to be around them.

One leg raised, slowly, working along the sill. A tentacle stretched out, moved through the narrow gap  and up along the inside of the window. The latch was so simple, just a twist of its metal form and the window was released, and it slowly raised it. The opening was too small ,and it had to take another form to get through. Images from Derrick’s imagination came to it, flashed through its mind till it settled on the one that appeared the most. To make sure Derrick didn’t wake during its transformation it sprayed a bluish-green fog into the room. It swirled in the small space and settled over the bed. It would keep Derrick asleep till it was ready for him to wake.

Forming the physical image of Derrick’s desire, it began to crack and break, legs folded and changed. Its body twisted and reformed. Its black color became mottled, other colors surfacing. Its internal organs moved, shifted around till they aligned as in the human species.

Hands grasp the sill as the naked body hopped up and through. He stood in the room looking down on Derrick. It opened its mouth, worked its jaw, renewing the feel of the human form.

“Derrick. Wake up.”

The voice was deep, a husky sound that had a bass sound that penetrated the physical surroundings. Derrick stirred, rolled to his back. He opened his eyes, struggling to focus, wondering what had disturbed his sleep.

“What…who’s there?”

Derrick couldn’t focus his mind. He felt like he was somewhere unknown. He sat up and saw someone at the foot of his bed and he quickly turned on the lamp on the nightstand. A dim light filled the room; warm yellow, like the light of a fire. He saw the man standing before him. Tall, with black hair and a smooth tanned skin tone. The fact the man was naked and in his home in the middle of the night didn’t register. He couldn’t process the notion of a break in or someone intruding. He could only think about how this man was his dream made manifest. Someone who appealed to him, was attractive in every way. His desire for this man overwhelmed any sense he should be afraid or on guard.

In some small part of his brain, somewhere deep in his consciousness, he sensed this wasn’t right. Something was amiss and he should be calling for help or trying to make it to the door and run. But the part of him that sought the intimacy of another, desired for physical contact, overrode everything. He wanted this man, whoever he was.

“Who are you?”

“Call me Luke.”

“Luke” Derrick replied, repeating the name slowly, as if each syllable was a struggle.

Luke reached down and pulled the covers from the bed leaving Derrick sitting uncovered. He grabbed him by the ankles and dragged him to the foot of the bed, raising each leg, resting them on his shoulders.

“What are you doing?” Derrick asked in a thick voice.

“I’m here for you, Derrick. I’m here to please you” replied Luke. Derrick sat up and watched Luke’s cock raise up hard. Untouched, with no stimulation, it stretched out long and thick. Clear liquid drooled from the slit. He felt his heart racing, his desire for sex overwhelming. He licked his lips as Luke moved to him, pushed that fat cock to his ass and rubbed up and down. He felt the slickness of it, the head gliding over his ass. It pushed against his tight opening, then squeezed through. He fell back, eye closed and mouth open, moaning with the penetration. He felt Luke sink into his depths, push inward till he didn’t think he could take another inch.

Then Luke began to fuck.

Derrick felt like he was in a dream. His vision was still blurred and none of it could be happening. Luke. He said his name was Luke and he tried to place who Luke was, where he had met him. The cock pushing into his depths stroked his own arousal. He was soon hard, moaning and grunting as Luke rocked him across the bed. He wanted to cry out, to beg Luke to fuck him harder, but he couldn’t form the words. But he felt the grip on his ankles tighten as Luke drove into his depths harder, faster, hips smacking against his ass. It was as if Luke could read his mind, know what he desired. He didn’t have to ask when Luke pulled out of his ass and told him to roll over. He got on his hands and knees and felt that cock push back inside him. He wanted it to stretch him open even more. He wanted to really feel it.

Luke knew what he wanted and pushed inward as he made his cock grew thicker, longer, till Derrick shuddered with the pain of entry. He ran hands up Derrick’s back, massaged the tight muscles while telling him to relax, to open up for him. He told Derrick he knew he wanted it. The sound of their bodies coming together echoed in the room and Derrick’s voice reverberated with it. Luke read Derrick, understand his limits and he swelled thicker once again. He pushed through the tightness and it made Derrick shudder.

Luke, the person Derrick wanted, knew he had to make him want him without question. He couldn’t let Derrick get away. He was young and could be his companion for a long time, longer than his time with Mrs. Grisham. His loneliness had grown over the centuries and he no longer was satisfied with human rituals worshiping his presence. He grew bored of their prayers and pleas for mercy. The toying with them, becoming the monsters they feared had been a foolish thing to do. After all the years watching the humans, interacting with them, he wanted something more. He wanted to feel needed. Mrs. Grisham had been fulfilling for a long time, but she grew old, her mind became confused and he had giving her an end.

Running his hands up Derrick’s back, feeling the strength within its muscle, the way it flexed tightly, he found himself mirroring the emotions coming from him. He wished there was another way. Some way to get Derrick to voluntarily be with him. To want to be with him, but he knew it would not happen, and knew the risk, his true form frightening to them. He put his fingertips on the spine along the neck. He pressed lightly as thin needles drilled out from each one. They pierced the skin and bore into the flesh. They continued into the spine and followed it upward till they were at different parts of brain. Then Luke released the elixir, what Mrs. Grisham had once referred to as venom before he forced her to submit to him again. He saw Derrick struggle at first, then relax. As the elixir seeped into Derrick’s brain, he watched him slowly move, push back on his cock, then pull away. He felt the tug of Derrick’s opening as he slid through it.

Derrick looked over his shoulder with glassy eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“Don’t leave me…never leave me.”

“I won’t leave you” Luke replied, and he knew it was working. He could read Derrick, some submissive tendency that craved another. He’d manipulate Derrick for as long as he had to, for he never wanted to be alone again. Time passed so slowly over the eons when he was alone. Mrs. Grisham gave him so much companionship, but not like Derrick promised. A promise of something more. A physical connection. Their bodies intertwined together.

Luke pushed into Derrick’s depths and began to fuck again.

Derrick moaned, grunted with every push inward. His whole body shivered as Luke piston in his hole, cock enlarged once again, stretching him some more. Luke could fuck all night, but he knew for Derrick it’d be too much. He shifted positions and read how it effected Derrick. The way he battered Derrick’s insides, making him see stars. It didn’t take long and Derrick came, cum spattered across the bed. He could feel it, the way Derrick’s hole spasm around his cock. It was a new sensation, one he wanted to repeat often.

When he eased out of Derrick and let him fall flat on the bed, he slid down next to him and felt the contours of his body, every shape, every curve, his fingers gliding slickly over the hot skin.  Derrick fell asleep, and quickly into a dream state. He watched him for a long time. The rhythm of his breathing fascinated him.

It was still dark outside. but daybreak was soon coming and Luke moved to the window and back into the yard. He bent over with the sudden pain of transformation, his bones cracking, skin stretching and changing, hardening to his true form.

Six legs lifted the body from the ground, and it headed toward the mountain. Daylight was too dangerous to be out, even transformed to look human. It was safer to come out only at night. It moved quickly across the field slipping over the fences. At the base of the mountain it looked back at the house, hesitating for a moment, recalling the sensations of its interaction with the human named Derrick. When night came again, it knew Derrick would be waiting, submissive to its needs.

Content for the time being, it ran up the mountain to its cave, to wait for the day to pass and night to return.