Run & Hide by Beatrix Hollow

23

The air this high above the mountains was surprisingly frigid compared to the warmth at the ground level. I was a shivering mess, burrowing into the monster to steal body heat. Mothman’s arms wrapped tighter around me when he felt me shaking. His hand gently pressed the back of my head, holding my face to his chest. I felt simultaneously cared for and concerned—unsure if this was comfort or restraint.

We didn’t fly for too long but it felt like ages. All I could do was cling to Mothman while thinking about my numb nose and fingers. His wings were big, dark things that stretched behind him, making stars blink out of existence. The edges were tattered, lifetimes of wear to the scales. The wings were fuzzy, little soft hairs covering every part. Near the bottom, the design looked like two dark, red eyes—similar to his own eyes but larger and more menacing.

We began to swoop down and my stomach felt weightless, curling upwards in my gut. I clawed at Mothman’s leather duster, my teeth chattering in my mouth as we descended. His hand trailed down my head and threaded through my hair several times. He was petting me, I realized.

His boots smacked onto a wooden porch. The old planks creaked in time to his shifting weight. I wasn’t ready to process that I was with the monster in the woods. That he’d just taken me somewhere I didn’t know. That Caspian was still on the bridge, along with Brandon.

Clawed fingers stroked my hair. Fear slunk up the back of my arms and tickled my neck. Now that the other dangers were gone, it came into clear focus that I was with something I had no clue about. I didn’t know if it talked. I didn’t know if it ate humans. I didn’t know much of anything.

It had saved me more than once but there were too many unknown factors for me to feel entirely comfortable. I pushed away from him suddenly, backing up. My shoulders hit a door that swung open, creaking on its hinges.

I jerked my head around and realized I’d backed up into a small cabin. There was a battery-powered lantern hanging up on a shelf that illuminated the small but comfortable surroundings. It was furnished with dated, torn furniture—broken legs, ripped fabrics, stains. Most looked as if it had been fished from a trash heap. There was an ancient TV and a bookshelf filled with older movies. I could pick out the cover of westerns from the selection on the shelves.

When Mothman moved to come inside, he had to duck half a foot down just to fit through the doorway. He had to be seven feet tall. Caspian had been the tallest person I’d ever known and this creature was significantly taller than him. I backed up, his height and overall presence overwhelming me. My hip hit the edge of a table. A metal tea kettle fell over and cool water splashed over my clothes. The water did nothing to help the chill still seeped into my bones. It felt like it would take ages to ever feel warm again.

Mothman’s strange eyes aimed at the kettle before his head shifted back up to look at me. I must have looked terrified. I felt terrified, clutching on to the edge of the table and shivering, my eyes wide. I wanted to run but I didn’t know if there was anywhere to go.

He held up his hands as if trying to calm a frightened animal. I’d never seen skin so dark and each long, thin finger ended with a thick sharpened talon. He began to move his hands, making strong motions. He pointed at me then made a circle with two fingers before straightening them out quickly. He did it a few times with me watching wide-eyed and clueless.

“Is that… ASL?” I asked, looking quickly at the tv for a brief second. It was a ridiculous thought, but comforting to imagine he was trying to communicate. He nodded his head and made the motions again.

“I don’t know sign language.” My voice wavered as I talked. I wasn’t even sure if he understood me but it felt better to at least pretend. His shoulders sagged and he stepped towards me. I gasped in shock and he froze up, his round eyes shooting to me as if I’d surprised him.

I edged around to the other side of the table, knocking into a chair as I went. He lifted his hands up and kept walking into the house, going over to a pen sitting on the couch.

My eyes whipped around the place. It was tiny, with two doors open. I could see a small bedroom and a half bathroom through the open doorways. I looked back at the open front door and wondered what would happen if I ran. A thick copse of trees hugged close to the cabin outside.

A notebook hit the table in front of me and I jumped up in surprise. Mothman stood on the other side of the table, his hands up, a pen hanging between two clawed fingers. I looked down at the notebook.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Ava,” he had written. My mouth cracked open. He could communicate. He even knew English! Which meant he was as intelligent as me. A being that could be talked to, reasoned with, and understood.

Also, he knew my name. Seeing it scrawled out on the paper in his handwriting felt surreal. I looked up and nodded at him. I believed his words. He’d had plenty of opportunities to hurt me and hadn’t. He’d saved me numerous times. In the woods, on the bridge, and even catching me falling out of the sky.

He relaxed as I nodded, his hands going down to his sides and his shoulders evening out. I tried to look at his face but it was just dark. The collar of his jacket was flipped up high and his wide-brimmed hat blotted out any light.

“Thank you for saving me. You’re... Mothman?” My eyes slid to his back. The wings were gone. The back of his duster had been modified so that there were two long slits down the entire back. His wings could burst from the openings and then tuck back in that way. I couldn’t imagine being capable of flying whenever I wanted. I used to dream of it all the time as a kid, flying over the trees.

Questions began swirling in my head, a hundred all at once.

“Is this your place?” That seemed the easiest way to start.

He nodded in response to my question and I swept my eyes around the place again. This was the home of Mothman, a mythic monster. Honestly, I expected a gruesome cave like the park ranger had talked about. This place was simple—lots of wood, scavenged furniture, and overall a sense of quiet seclusion that felt almost depressive.

“Are those your movies?” I asked, tipping my head at the bookshelf. I was curious how he got electricity for the TV. Clearly, he wasn’t hooked up to any electricity grids out here. Mothman nodded again, animatedly, like he was excited I was interested in him.

I started to relax more. This felt oddly normal, or at least not as if I were in a life or death situation. He picked up the notebook and began writing again. He walked around the table and handed it to me this time. I stood there, breathing heavily but took it from him.

“Are you curious about me? I’m curious about you.” His hands came up slowly and settled on my shoulders. I dropped the notebook on the table and tensed as I felt the weight of his hands. He slowly massaged his fingers into my muscle before one hand slipped down my arm, trailing the length. He slid his fingers around my wrist, tickling the sensitive skin. I swallowed thickly.

“Have you been around many humans?” I asked. He lifted my hand and traced my fingers delicately. The thick, pointed talon that tipped his finger dragged gently over my palm. The skin tingled where he touched, the hairs on the back of my arm lifting up. He didn’t answer me but instead kept exploring like he’d never seen a human up close. Maybe he hadn’t. Maybe I was his first.

He dropped my wrist and brought both his hands up to my shoulders again, massaging the muscles slowly, watching to make sure I didn’t act too frightened. I wondered what he thought of me, if he thought anything at all. I wondered why he saved me.

His thumbs began rubbing my collar bone, giving a deeper massage. Tension began to leak out of me and I relaxed into his touch. My strained shoulder ached but started to loosen. It felt good after what felt like hours of tension. I eyed the splinter for a moment. It was still there, just a stupid annoyance to worry about later.

His hands moved from my collar bones, going lower. My eyes widened as he trailed his fingers over my breasts. His head tipped to the side as if he didn’t understand that part of me.

“Um,” I started but then his big, dark hands were gathering up my breasts. He held them, squeezing and feeling while I sputtered on what to say. His thin, long fingers were gentle and appraising as he tested the weight and shape.

His thumbs rubbed over my nipples. I squeaked in shock as they pebbled in response, a prickling thrill I hadn’t expected. Every nerve was on fire now. I could still feel the trails his claws left on my palm, the indents of his thumbs from when he massaged my shoulders, and every swipe he stroked against my chest. I stood there stunned by how I was reacting to his explorations.

He noticed my tension so he left my breasts alone. His hands dipped lower, smoothing over my belly and fanning out over my hips. I took a stuttering breath, trying to calm myself down.

“Can I do the same?” I asked, reaching out a hand towards his collar, aiming for where a jaw or neck might be. What was under his coat? What was under his hat? He didn’t seem to mind at all as my fingers slid into his collar. Amazingly soft fur threaded between my fingers as I stretched up on my tiptoes to touch him.

“Wow,” I sighed, feeling awed. Each thread of fur was so thin but as a whole was amazingly thick. My hand sunk into the texture. Mothman removed his hands from my hips and leaned over for his notebook, picking the pen up. I pulled my hand back and held it in a loose fist at my chest, savoring the soft texture of his body.

“We have to take the wet clothes off so you can get warm,” was written on the paper. The slight shiver in my body must have been apparent to him. What he said made sense but I didn’t really want to do it.

“Can’t we build a fire?” I asked, looking around for a fireplace. There wasn’t one and I wondered if he ever felt cold with such thick fur. Instead of writing anything in response to my question, he just began to slide his claws under the bottom edge of my shirt. I felt them gently scratch across my tummy before warm palms pressed against my skin and began sliding up.

I sucked in a breath of shock as I felt his rough, calloused hands climb up my body. My eyes widened and I looked up at him in shock as he pushed my shirt up my ribcage. I was so taken back by the situation that I lifted my arms without complaint so that he could move the shirt higher up. His hands were so large. The fingers wrapped easily around each one of my arms, circling them as he moved the shirt all the way up.

There was a moment when the shirt hit my wrists that I grew concerned he’d suddenly stop, trap my hands, and bind my wrists like they’d been earlier tonight. A cold dread hit my stomach. He didn’t though, didn’t hesitate at all, just slid the shirt free from my body and draped it over the table’s chair.

My arms wrapped around my body. The air wasn’t cold but my body still was. I needed warmth. Clawed fingers slid back onto my skin, talons slipped into the top of my shorts, meeting at the middle. He tugged on the material in the center and I gasped as I lurched forward a step. His head tipped to the side, his glowing eyes on my face as his fingers slipped the button loose and tugged the zipper down.

My face must have relayed my quasi panic because he tapped the notebook on the table where he’d written that my clothes needed to come off. I swallowed and nodded. I didn’t feel like I could talk right now. This situation was odd. My body shouldn’t have been reacting like it was, as if this were something sexual when it wasn’t at all. He was just curious to touch me and trying to help.

With my shorts open, he dipped his fingers between the fabric and my skin. I stilled as I realized he’d slipped his hands into my panties too and was now slowly dragging them down my thighs. He went to his knees before me, his eyes burning at the area between my legs as he helped me step out of my wet clothes.

Mothman stood up and draped my clothes on the table. Which left me only in a bra, shivering in front of a seven-foot Mothman with his western garb and overwhelming presence. His glowing eyes burned into my chest as he began to reach for the bra but I shook my head.

“It’s dry,” I rasped out, twisting my hands in front of my hips. “Do you have clothes or a blanket or…” Or something? I felt so exposed, the air of his cabin touching nearly every bared inch of me.

He grabbed my hand and walked me over to the couch. I sat down, at least happy my ass wasn’t on full display.

Mothman draped a blanket over my shoulders, making sure it covered me as much as possible. He straightened and mimed sipping from a cup. He also gathered all his fingers to a point and patted it above where a mouth could be.

“Oh!” I said, understanding. He was asking if I needed something to drink or eat. Honestly, that just made me think about how long I might be here. I wanted to get back to my car. I wanted to call the police and see Caspian. I wanted to call my mom and go home, stay tucked in with my family for months before leaving the house again.

My eyes felt wet as I started to think about what I’d been through. What Caspian’s band had been through. Mothman dropped to the ground on his knees in a rush. He brought his hand up and caught a tear on my cheek, brushing it away. Then he got up and retrieved his notebook, writing something on it.

I tried to hold off the tears but they slowly rolled down my cheek. Sobs wanted to break loose but I couldn’t do that now. First I wanted to get home, then I could burst open and deal with all of this.

Mothman handed me the notebook.

“Don’t cry. I can make you feel better. Is that okay?” A monster was offering to make me feel better. It caused a laugh to burst from my mouth at the absurdity of it.

“Okay, I guess that’s fine,” I said, smiling at him. With that, he abruptly snatched the notebook from my hands and tossed it behind his shoulder. My eyes bulged at the brusqueness. He pressed his hands into my knees and slowly spread me open. My heart thumped wildly in my chest.

“I’m not sure about this anymore,” I said in a rush of panic. His head shot up to me and then he shuffled to his notebook. He flipped it open, thumbing through pages, then he turned it towards me, showing me a drawing.

It was a moth sitting on a flower. Its long, tongue-like proboscis was nestled in the flower, drinking in the nectar. My mouth hung open in awe as I traced the edge of the paper. It was an amazing drawing.

“You drew this?” I asked and he nodded then pointed at the flower then towards my legs. My eyes widened in understanding. He thought I looked like a flower. He dropped the notebook and gently encouraged my legs to open again. I guess I could let him look for a moment. I could understand his intense curiosity.

I stilled in shock as something long and thin began to slide from his mouth in the recesses of his hat. It was pink and fleshy and so very, very long. My mouth dropped open as I watched it grow closer to me. Goosebumps broke out over my skin, my mind started to scream at me to run. What was that?!

It slid between my legs. My eyes dipped to the drawing on the floor and I sucked in a breath in shock.

“It’s not really a flower!” I gasped. At the same time, his proboscis tongue latched on. It was warm, wet, and circled perfectly around my clit. Then it vibrated and sucked, tugging on the bundle of nerves.

An orgasm immediately barrelled into my chest, seemingly cleaving my soul from my body. I screamed from the intensity of it, the sound still raspy from overuse. My back arched and I lost my vision as I thrashed roughly with the most powerful orgasm I’d ever had.

I writhed, tears popped from my eyes, my insides violently clenched. The pleasure was almost too intense but his tongue kept sucking more pleasure from my body despite that. I suddenly gushed between my legs, warm liquid spilling out and a deep rolling pleasure accompanied the action.

A guttural groan rolled from my lips. I wasn’t sure when it had happened, but now I was laying out on the couch, stretched out over its length. Mothman had moved over top of me, looking down at me from above. One knee was pressed between my thighs and his tongue-thing was long enough to stay attached to my clit as he hovered over me.

A wicked, demonic mouth smiled from the shadows of his hat. Wide, white teeth stretched across the entire length of his face. It was terrifying and yet my body kept seizing rhythmically in pleasure. I whimpered and clawed at the couch underneath me, I couldn’t seem to find the urge to run from the terrifying creature. My instincts were weighed down by the satisfying pleasure blanketing my body.

“It feels so good,” someone mumbled pathetically and I realized it had to have been me. The suctioning ended and all the tension left, leaving me feeling boneless. Holy. Fuck. My body gave a tremor in the aftershock of the orgasm. My insides felt tired from how hard they’d clenched.

A thick thwack bashed into the front door. Splinters of wood sprayed into the house as the head of an axe appeared. The axe sucked back out of the hole and then a human Caspian kicked in the door, his angry eyes settling on Mothman and me.

Horror splashed across Caspian’s face. Then a deadly calm settled over him, chilling me to the bone. His body rippled back into monster form as his empty eyes settled on Mothman.

“You’re fucking dead.” The words were pulled through the teeth of his mouth, violent and deadly. A raspy hacking laugh, almost so deep in tone I could barely hear it, came jumping out of Mothman as he swung off the couch and stood in front of me. He faced Caspian with wide-spread legs and shoulders held back like he was proud.

Caspian stomped towards us, raising his axe, but suddenly cried out, dropping the axe and clutching his head. Mothman made that hacking, demonic laugh again.

“I’m going to peel the skin from your body and eat it while you watch,” Caspian growled, grabbing his weapon again.

“No!” I gasped. My voice was still breathy, but loud. “He saved me, Caspian.” I shook my head. He’d saved me more than once. He wasn’t a bad guy. I owed him my life. Caspian looked over at me like I had two heads, his eyes bulging in disbelief. Then a violent shiver ran up his body as a look of hurt and panic flashed in his eyes. He gripped the axe harder, swinging it up and rushing at Mothman.

He yelled out as he rushed towards Mothman swinging the axe. Mothman jumped out of the way and the axe slammed into the small kitchen table. The piece of furniture had already been on its last leg so when the axe splintered its middle, it cleaved in two, collapsing in a mess on the floor.

“Caspian!” I called, grabbing my clothes that had been knocked to the floor and quickly sliding them back on. Caspian cried out in pain, one hand going to his forehead.

“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed out as he charged at Mothman again. Mothman sighed and then pulled out his gun.

“No!” I cried out, flinging myself between them. I faced Caspian, cradling his face in my hands. His eyes stayed aimed at the other monster with murderous intent. His entire body was flexed for violence, ready at a moment’s notice to take its opening.

He was still a monster as I touched him. His skin’s texture felt different, almost rubbery. My fingers tickled the edges of his gills. His strange grass-like hair rested on my knuckles.

“Caspian, look at me.” The tension was so thick in the air I could barely breathe, too worried we were a breath away from violence. I slid my hands down his chest then trailed them lower. My hands swept over his lower stomach then I moved to his hands. I touched the webbing between his fingers, rubbed gently on it in curiosity. His eyes rounded in shock and he jerked his attention to me.

God, I’d nearly lost him today. Nearly lost him and all he had wanted was for me to love him.

“I love you,” I told him, tears burning my eyes. The axe dropped to the floor loudly as his large eyes darted back and forth between my own.

“What?” He asked, all the violence gone from his tone.

“I love you,” I repeated, leaning into him, wrapping my arms around his body until I could feel the sharp dorsal fin at his back. “I love you so much, Caspian.” He inhaled sharply and shuddered beneath my touch. His arms wrapped around me and he buried his face into the crown of my head.

“You really love me? You aren’t just saying that?” He asked, his voice wavering in desperation. His needle-sharp talons dimpled my skin as he gripped me to him. “Even like this?” He whispered as his cheek pressed into my head.

“Yes,” I said, clutching myself to him and never wanting to let him go again. He tugged me away from him and bent down closer to my height, looking me in the eyes. My gaze trailed over his gills, the long points of his ears, the abnormally large eyes with freakishly huge pupils. His lips were puckered slightly, pushed outwards because of all the sharp teeth hiding behind them.

My instincts rattled inside me, bucking for attention. I swallowed them down and held Caspian’s gaze. My hand trembled as I reached forward, cupping his cheek in my hand. He leaned into it, his eyes hopeful.

“I love you,” I softly said again and twin tears leaked from his eyes. A big breath rushed out of him, his entire body sagging as the tension left him. A small laugh of euphoria burst from his mouth, his hands stroking my cheeks. Then he seemed to remember everything else. His gaze and hands swept over me desperately, looking for any sign of harm or distress.

“Are you okay? Does anything hurt?” He even lifted the hair off of my neck and ran his fingers across the nape of my neck. He brushed his fingers through my hair, touching my scalp delicately.

“I’m fine. My shoulder is strained a little—” I was cut off as he saw the wound on my lip from when the door hit me earlier, in the bathroom when I was found. I pushed the memory away, hating how crisp the terror still felt

“When did this happen?” He snarled. His eyes shot above my head, flaring in hatred at Mothman behind me. “Did he hurt you?” The words fell from his mouth like a threat.

“No—”

“He was doing things to you.” His eyes flared open wider as if just remembering what he walked in to see.

“Caspian, he didn’t understand,” I said, feeling awkward and embarrassed about the entire strange situation. Did Mothman even understand what had happened when I orgasmed? Caspian’s eyes bugged out of his head then he shot a disgusted look at Mothman as he straightened up.

“He understands,” he grumbled, eyes swiveling around the room. He saw the notebook and got it, flipping it open as he brought it to me. Mothman made an annoyed click noise in his mouth before he huffed and crossed his arms.

“He most definitely understands, Ava,” Caspian said, showing me a drawing in the notebook. My eyes bugged as I saw a cartoon drawing of me crossed-eyed and drooling with my tongue hanging comically out of my mouth. Mothman gripped me from behind in the drawing, his wide smile drawn in. On the side of the drawing, he had written: “save a horse, ride a cowboy”.

“Oh,” was all I could say because what the heck was I looking at! I didn't even know how to grasp the wildly different perception I’d had in my head. Mothman reached over and pinched the notebook from Caspian’s hands and stuffed it in a pocket of his duster.

“But...” I started, trying to find some explanation. Caspian lifted me up in a bridal hold as his body transformed in a mere half-second to look human again. The change rippled over his body in a wave.

He carried me outside of the cabin in his arms without another word. Brandon stood near the porch, his hands shoved in his jean pockets, his shoulders stiff as he looked around at the surrounding woods nervously. His eyes flipped to us as we came out.

“She okay?”

“She’s okay,” Caspian responded, looking down at me tenderly with a smile. “She loves me,” he announced in a daze. Then he bent down and kissed me, a groan of satisfaction rumbling from his mouth into mine. “Ava,” he mumbled between kisses. I clung to him, finally feeling completely safe with him here. Finally thinking I might be okay as his soft lips molded to mine. His tongue dragged across the seam of my lips.

“Uh…” Brandon responded awkwardly. The booming steps of Mothman came from the porch as he followed us out. Caspian twisted us to face him and I gripped his shoulders.

“Don’t follow us! How many times do I need to tell you she’s mine?”

“Caspian, I owe him my life,” I pleaded. I looked back at Mothman’s cabin and was hit with a sense of loneliness. He must always live alone and that felt depressing to me. Clearly, he craved communication and touch.

Caspian’s lips slammed shut at my response and his face turned sour. He jerked away from Mothman and began stomping into the woods. He was clearly unhappy but didn’t complain when Mothman followed this time. Instead, he just sighed but accepted he was here.

Brandon’s eyes were saucers as he stood shocked in place, looking at Mothman. He sucked his lip into his mouth nervously then began to follow us.

“I can walk,” I said.

“He’ll grab you and fly off again,” Caspian mumbled in agitation. Mothman shrugged as if that was a very likely possibility. Brandon shifted away from Mothman, even going so far as to stay close to Caspian despite knowing what he was. Probably hoping the monster he knew was better than the one he didn’t.

"You sure he doesn't eat people?" Brandon whispered to Caspian.