The Beast of Brookville

Chapter 1

There's nothing that a hundred men or more could ever dooooo, I bless the rains down in Africaaaaa...

The breezy tunes of Opal's Toto CD lingered in the air after the last of her car battery finally gave out. Sitting there, stranded, she couldn't help but appreciate the view of the sun setting over the reservoir and the gentle breeze of the hot summer night. She checked her phone, 8:53pm and still no service, she knew there wouldn't be, this part of the woods was a notorious dead zone.

Brookville, Maryland was a town, technically, but it was farm country. The sign boasts that it was once "Capitol for a day" when the President took refuge here in 1814 but the town has little to show for it. The cornerstones of the community are spread out, church, bakery, butcher, pub were peppered throughout the winding roads and dense deciduous forest that created the picturesque area. If you were looking for a school, chain grocery store, or to do multiple errands in one stop, you drive 25 minutes to the next town.

When she moved here with her newly divorced father as a teenager she was less than pleased. Why here? There's nothing. Looking back it wasn't so bad but you couldn't exactly blame a teenager for getting bored with this place. Bouncing around following her dad's professorial career, Opal had the chance to experience a lot in her young life. Small towns, big cities, north, south, east, west, there had been a new place every few years and then she was stuck in nowheresville. When her mom passed away, Brookville became Opal's permanent residence for the years leading up to college. She considered this place home but would always be an outsider.

The breeze dropped and the thick blanket of humidity pulled her back to reality. What was she going to do? She could wait for another car to drive by but on this stretch of road she knew that could take a while. Then what, she'd just get in the car with a stranger with no cell service? The alternate option was walking back alone in the dark. And then, more likely than a serial killer, she had bears and coyotes to contend with.

Neither of these felt like real options, it was getting late and the exhausting heat wasn't giving up, it had been a long day of classes and driving and she was tired, and knew she'd have to come up with something soon.

Opal awoke to the sound of belligerent ducks claiming their space on the water. She found herself lounged across her backseat, while she waited for the right answer to come to her, a third one crept up and took its place. That was the benefit of driving her 1980's Toyota Landcruiser, the thing was a beast with nothing but space in the back.

She wasn't sure where the closest place was to make a call from but knew she was only a couple miles from home and now that the sun was up she felt more comfortable walking. Surprising her dad by coming home the night before he expected her had really backfired, she thought.

"Guess I'll be on my way then!" she alerted the ducks,

"Always good to let someone know where you're going", she joked to herself.

Walking gave her time to look around, had it always been this beautiful? The recent storms made the place explode with greenery, the woods hummed with insect life and bustled dramatically with every breeze. Admittedly, it was easier to appreciate the remote beauty of Brookville when you weren't stuck there, school breaks felt like country getaways instead of the suffocatingly boring farm town she balked at as a teenager.

When they'd arrived, the farmhouse was simple and well built, nothing special but not the derelict shack her dad would tell you it was. Without any work the place would have been fine, but what was a retired English professor to do? Write? No, every good writer needed a hobby to procrastinate with. He thought about his books a lot, sure, but I never got the sense he was really putting much of it down. The ideas were daydreams without a home, stories he'd been constructing but would never really share. Dad was great, he could be quiet but was always happy to have guests to take care of, and it felt like the book was more standing conversation fodder than tangible work of literature.

As she crested the next hill she smiled, this had been their spot. Opal and Forrest used to sneak into the woods over here to spend time together, easy access from the road that connected their houses but secluded from the trails that circled the reservoir; it was the perfect location for their home away from home.

Without real thought, nostalgia and curiosity turned her onto their old pathway. The familiar sounds of breeze lifting the tree canopy surrounded her as she made her way down the hill. The woods had slowly started to reclaim their old trail but the remnants were enough that her Converses could navigate the path. Sparkles of sunlight flittered along the forest floor as Opal used the trees that buttressed the walkway to help her navigate, the recent rain had solidified the usually dusty and unreliable trail but it wasn't exactly easy.

Opal caught herself wondering what Forrest was up to these days, they were friends on social media but she didn't recall seeing any life updates, she figured he would probably still be around here but what was he up to?

They had a close bond in high school, the son of a righteous cop and the 'new' girl in town would always be outsiders and the trouble in his parents' marriage drove him even further away from his family. Sometimes it felt like Opal was all he had.

They could've been in love, she thought, but there was always a part of them that knew their time had an expiration date when Opal went to college. The crunch of twigs and the humming cicadas served as background noise to her wandering mind until the wallop of stench yanked her back to reality.

"What the fuck is that?" she was so startled she'd said it out loud.

The further into the woods she got the more the path dissipated. A game trail appeared over top of it but veered off at the dead end of a rock outcropping in its way. Opal broke from the trail and navigated over roots and overgrown brush, as she picked her way through the woods, the smell grew stronger, more sour, and a wave of buzzing insects filled her ears.

Bracing her left hand on the boulder as she stepped down, she was careful not to lose her footing in the leaf piles that collected alongside it. Landing at the bottom she looked up from her carefully placed feet and spotted it.

The winds blanketed some of it with damp leaves but she knew what it was.

Oh god.

Checking her phone again, still no signal... panic.

The heavy drape of heat and humidity was suffocating, the world blurred as her gaze darted back and forth grasping for an answer,

"body" she whispered.

Then she ran.

The wind did nothing to combat the weight of the air, the panic, the hyperventilation, the pure striking fear that was chasing her, terror breathing down her neck.

The ease of the path disappeared. Whipped by branches, tangled by cobwebs, grabbed by old roots she emerged from the woods at a terrified scramble.

She didn't think, didn't plan, her animal instincts piloted her body as she careened down the road towards her father's house.