Mourning Wood
A transition. That’s what Ralphie needed. A change. Sweet relief from trash women and bad times. But a Christian girl was not exactly what he had in mind as he tore across the winding back-country road that evening.
The steering wheel of the Porsche 911 Turbo jerked hard right as if in protest to the uneven gravel road that met the front gate of the abandoned summer camp. Ralphie slammed the brakes, skidding to a stop just short of the weathered faux-Indian totem. He’d almost missed it and bit it at the same time.
The sign read CAMP MORNING WOOD in sloppily painted brush print. This was the place.
But would this be the girl? Ralphie committed to taking a break from the dating apps. That was until he found Georgiana’s profile.
Most of the women Ralphie met on the apps were transactional, temporary. They liked to play Simon says in the evening and twenty questions in the morning. “What are you doing today? Are you hungry? Do you want to get breakfast? What are your plans for the weekend? Well, when will I see you again, huh?”
Ralphie would drop them as soon as he’d got what he wanted: some attention, a partner for the evening, and an ego boost.
But Georgiana was different: religious, conservative, sweet. She went to church every Sunday. Visited the sick. Participated in the bake sales. And she was pretty as Hell.
Maybe Ralphie could be different too. At least he thought so.
Georgiana had even come close to marriage, poor thing, but the groom-to-be somehow got himself murdered.
The big M: murder. And the other big M: marriage. Ralphie scarcely could tell which was scarier.
He wanted to inquire further but figured it would be better to wait for the date.
So here he was at the abandoned summer camp where Georgiana had suggested they meet. Maybe she was into nature sex? But that didn’t jive with the image of a girl who loved Jesus so.
Ralphie continued down the worn dirt road in the foggy moonlight until he arrived at the camp proper. Dried brush, fallen tree limbs, and the collected detritus of years covered every patch of ground. Aged buildings, bent, wood-paneled, with broken glass and crumbled chimneys, slumped down as if being called back to the earth.
There was another car parked just ahead, at the edge of the lake. That must have been Georgiana’s.
Ralphie thought he was hallucinating as he cast his gaze forward and caught first glimpse of the figure walking through the fog. He was expecting a mild-mannered woman in a floral print dress with a Bible in her hand.
The red leather miniskirt and tiny black tube top did not match the picture Ralphie had formed in his head. Nor the commando boots and fishnet stockings.
Was this the right person?
As they met, and embraced, she planted a chaste kiss on Ralphie’s cheek. “Hi,” she said. “I’m Georgiana.”
Ralphie had dated many women who wore skimpy outfits, but this was almost theatrically overdone, right up to the thick glittery makeup, dizzying perfume, and elaborate coiffure.
As they walked, each step brought Ralphie further from surprise and into confusion. While Georgiana may have been dressed like a lady of the evening, she spoke with a lilted, almost dainty tone that contrasted the style of dress.
“I gotta admit,” Ralphie said, “you’re not exactly what I was expecting. I imagined you’d be a little more…churchy.”
“We’re not in church, hon. You should relax a little.”
He tried to relax as they walked, their conversation meandering. They passed the dilapidated mess hall, where hungry campers once scarfed down countless servings of franks, beans, and sloppy joes. Along the way, an old telephone box lay crushed, as though a fist had smashed through it. Nearby, a rusted wheelchair sat vacant in a cluster of overgrown vines. Whatever had happened here, it felt more like a war zone than a summer camp.
“So you were engaged,” Ralphie said. “But your fiance, he was murdered. How did it happen? If you don’t mind me asking. You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
“It’s OK,” she said. “Dan was a county deputy. Out on a call. It happened here at the summer camp just six months ago.”
Ralphie felt his heart rate instantly jump. Maybe Georgiana had a predilection for the macabre. Or, maybe she was simply batty? Mourning can do strange things to people.
She continued. “Some teenagers were getting into foolishness. Screaming, hollering, carrying on. But Dan, he thought it was a prank or something. Big idiot. I miss him so much.”
“What happened?”
“They found him hanging from a tree. Throat slashed. And the others were dead too. Strangled, hung, beaten, chopped up, hacked up, raw meat.”
Ralphie reflexively reached for his perfectly unslashed throat.
“They never found who did it,” she said. “But I think I know. I think I know.”
“Who?” Ralphie’s eyes grew wider and redder.
“Dan was lazy. He didn’t pay attention. Men are lazy like that sometimes. You know what I mean? Mentally lazy, not thinking ahead. Not seeing what’s around the corner. Or they have a devilish streak that gets them into trouble. And that can make things come out. Bad things can come out of the darkness.”
Ralphie studied Georgiana’s face: a pale white, ghostly face that shimmered in the silvery moonlight. His hand found hers. He could feel her fingernails, firm but not too sharp, as she squeezed his hand in return.
“Do you like my outfit?” she asked. “You haven’t said much about it.”
Ralphie nodded. “Um. Yes. It’s very nice.”
Georgiana tugged at Ralphie’s hand and led him down the hill to the edge of a pond. The lunar map above reflected off the still water. If that map led anywhere it could only be to trouble.
But that was the kind of trouble Ralphie liked. He pulled Georgiana toward him by the waist. She rested her head against his chest.
It was easy, much easier than Ralphie ever had with a woman. Too easy.
“It’s dark,” she said. “Isn’t it dark? It gets dark so fast this time of year.”
Ralphie could detect the quaver in Georgiana’s voice. Her petite frame shook with apparent anxiety.
“Yes,” Ralphie said. “But why are you talking like that? Why are you shaking?”
“It’s cold. I’d like you to hold me, tighter, and warm me.”
Ralphie assented. Of course it was cold. She barely had any clothes on.
“Hey,” he said. “Why did you want to meet me here? Why are you dressed like a stripper?”
“Does it turn you on? Do you like bad girls?”
“I like you.”
And that was it. As if his words flipped a hidden switch. Georgiana planted her lips against Ralphie’s.
“I love you so,” she said.
The declaration caught Ralphie by surprise. Her voice was monotone, without emotional inflection.
From behind, in a stand of dense shrubs, a twig snapped. The sound was thick and choked, like a bone breaking in a clump of cotton.
Ralphie spun around. “What was that? Did you hear that?”
“It was nothing,” Georgiana said. She forced Ralphie’s hands against her breasts.
“Just a second,” Ralphie said. I heard something.“
The air tingled with a static charge.
“It was probably just a rabbit,” Georgiana said. “Lie down beside me.”
Ralphie brought his attention back to the present moment. Georgiana’s strange insistence, her gentle petting, it all excited him, despite his reservations.
But it was so much as it always was. Ralphie had yearned for a change, something different. This was turning out to be more of the same.
Nevertheless, his excitement grew, beyond his control now. The atmosphere seemed to tingle in tandem with the agitated swelling of passion—like a pressure drop before a rainstorm.
Ralphie took Georgiana to the ground, and she assented to be taken—all too willingly.
They fondled in the dark for what felt like ten minutes or so. Until Ralphie had to stop and rest his tired lips.
A rustling sound, a thumping of booted feet, and the crushing of dry leaves, once again fractured Ralphie’s attention.
“Now what the hell was that?” Ralphie said. “You had to have heard that.”
Ralphie hopped to his feet and pulled his pants up.
“We’re not alone,” Ralphie said.
He could hear the groaning from the bushes nearby. “Gruh,” it said. “Gruuugh.” And the heavy breathing.
“It doesn’t matter,” Georgiana said. She rushed to Ralphie’s side and threw her arms around his shirtless waist. “We need to do this to draw him out!”
“Draw who out? What are you talking about?!”
Right at that moment the hulking figure the size of a bull emerged. It grabbed Ralphie by the throat, lifting him several feet above the ground with the power of one bare, gnarly hand. It was difficult to make out the ragged features in the dark, but the intruder was clearly a man with inhuman strength. He wore a battered coverall, a utility belt full of edged weapons, and a dirty white mask—devoid of all human expression—that seemed burnt into the flesh of his face.
Ralphie struggled in vain to free himself from the grasp of the monster. Thrashed from side to side like a rag doll, he could feel consciousness seeping away from him. A sensation like floating down a dark hallway.
Was this what it felt like to die?
Not quite. Ralphie felt a shock through his head, saw a blinding flash of light. He reached out and found the reassuring solidity of the ground.
He looked up and saw the creature reel forward. From behind, Georgia had managed to plant an ax in the shoulder.
She released the ax from the split clavicle, heaved it up, and cracked it down through the skull. A spray of ooze and sticky blood splattered against Ralphie’s face.
By instinct—for no conscious thought was possible—Ralphie grabbed a hunting knife from the utility belt and stabbed it several times into the creature’s eyes and throat.
At some length, the subdued beast collapsed in a heap. Ralphie and Georgiana fell together in exhaustion.
“What was that?” Ralphie said. “Is that the thing that killed your fiance?”
Georgiana nodded.
Ralphie helped her to her feet. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get out of here.”
They made their way back up the hill, Georgiana trailing the bloody ax behind.
“You were right,” Ralphie said. “You were right about bad things coming out of the dark. I didn’t realize how right you were. Did you know that was going to happen?”
“That’s why I brought you here.”
A scraping sound from behind signaled to Ralphie that the nightmare wasn’t over yet. The lurking creature erupted again, standing at full height, like a bear observing its prey before tearing its flesh apart.
Georgiana deftly spun on her back heel, and executed a 360 turn, bearing the ax in a perfect blue-flash arc that severed the monstrous head from the terrible bulk. The head flipped up, sending spurts of purple, smoky blood in all directions, before smacking to the ground.
It was all over in a matter of minutes.
As they walked back to the cars, Ralphie felt his hands shaking from the adrenaline dump. From Georgiana, there was a surprising serenity.
“What the hell happened back there?” Ralphie asked.
“I’m sorry to have deceived you,” Georgiana said. “The demon requires action to bring it about. Deviousness. Deviancy. Things like that. It feeds on lust.”
“Is it dead?”
“I hope so.”
The other question floated at the periphery. Ralphie didn’t dare to ask until Georgiana was inside her car, starting up the engine.
“Will I see you again?” he finally asked.
Georgiana smiled. “I’ll be in church tomorrow.”
Horror Sleaze Trash 