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  Deep Woods Alpha’s Bonus Prequel (Mountain Man)

  Beast of the Mountain

  By:

  Scarlett Winters

  Copyright 2020 Scarlett Winters

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any way or by any means. Including but not limited to recording, photocopying, any electronic methods, without the prior written consent of the publisher. This book is strictly a work of fiction, any references to persons, places or things are all completely fictional.

  Warning: This book is for adult audiences.

  Contents

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  Chapter 1- Freya

  I’ve never kept secrets from my parents before, but there’s a first time for everything, right?

  They’ve never kept secrets from me, either. They’ve been elusive, tight-lipped, quiet, but they’ve never lied to me. I always knew that I was adopted, that my biological father had dropped me off at an orphanage when I was a very young child. From what my parents have told me, while it wasn’t an officially closed adoption, there wasn’t much information to go on. What there was, my parents told me to leave alone. I never understood why, and as I grew up, I kind of started to resent it—I felt like they were hiding something from me. I always wanted to know why my biological father gave me up for adoption, but my parents never told me.

  That all changed when I turned eighteen and decided to start looking for where I came from. Since I was legally an adult, it made it a lot easier to find the answers that I was looking for. In their effort to protect me, my parents kept me a bit sheltered, I feel. That’s why I kept my search for answers a secret from them. My months of searching culminated into today. I finally know who my birth mother is, and I’m going to meet her!

  There’s only one problem: My parents think that I’m heading to Las Vegas with some of my girlfriends for the weekend. Instead, I’m on a plane, by myself, on my way to Oregon. I can’t wait!

  I’ve lived with my parents (and no matter what I find out or who of my biological family I meet, they’ll always be my parents) in San Diego, California. It’s a good life, but I’ve never felt truly at home in the city. I’m much more comfortable going for a hike or a jog outside on the trails or parks. The inner city is so suffocating, but I can relax and breath in the open air of nature. That’s why I was so happy when I learned that my biological mother lives near Hood River, Oregon. I’ve always wanted to visit Oregon, it looks beautiful, and exactly the type of place I would want to live.

  The plane ride is uneventful, for which I’m incredibly grateful. I’m so excited for this, I don’t want any distractions.

  When I land in Oregon, it’s to find my birth mom waiting for me at the small local airport in Hood River. Despite her holding a small handwritten sign that says “Freya” on it, I know who she is. I would know her just looking at her because she looks a lot like me.

  We have the same hazel eyes and straight caramel hair, even her face is the same oval shape as mine. The only major difference between us (besides our age) is our height. She’s a bit short—I must get my height from my biological father. She’s got a soft smile on her face.

  Tossing my carry-on over my shoulder, I make my way over to her. Her name is Sage, which I find to be just another sign that I was meant to meet her. My favorite color is green.

  She greets me with a gentle embrace. “Hello, Freya. How was your journey?” I’d sent her a picture of myself when we were arranging this meeting.

  “It was really good, thank you. I’m so happy to finally meet you,” I say and reach out to give her a gentle hug. As I pull back, my fingers catch on the fabric of her blouse. It’s rough, almost raw feeling. The rest of her clothes match. They almost look handmade, or like the type of thing that you would find on people who reenact the old frontier days. A pale cream blouse matches the floor length skirt. Woven sandals peek out from underneath the hemline of the skirt. Huh, maybe she makes her own clothes? That would be pretty cool. In California, fashion is everything it seems, even if the quickly changing fades can give way to waste.

  Sage and I get into her small beater car and start towards her home. She asks so many questions about my life: What my hobbies are, if I have a boyfriend, what my favorite foods are. It’s so sweet, that she wants to get to know me!

  I was right too: Oregon is so gorgeous. As Sage drives, I don’t pay any attention to where we are going, I’m so entranced by the landscape we pass. Eventually, her questions start to peter off and I try to ask some of my own, starting with, “Do I have any other relatives?”

  “Oh, yes, quite a few,” Sage answers quietly. Her voice is very soft.

  “What about my father? What can you tell me about him?” It might be a delicate question, but I want to know.

  Sage’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. “Let’s not speak of such unpleasant matters when we’ve just found each other. We’ve almost arrived.”

  “Where are we?” I don’t see how we could have really “arrived” anywhere, as we’re still pretty much surrounded by nature. Come to think of it, we seem to be driving away from most signs of civilization. “Do you live all the way out here? By yourself?”

  “Oh, no, I’m not alone. I live in a close community; your community.” Sage says as we pull up to a cluster of simply built houses deep among the trees. As people start to walk out of the buildings, all dressed in a similar manner as Sage, I start to get a sinking feeling in my gut.

  Something isn’t quite right here.

  Chapter 2- Freya

  “She’s lovely, Sage.”

  “Oh, she’s absolutely perfect!”

  “They’ll love her.”

  I’m feeling so overwhelmed as I’m surrounded by Sage’s apparent friends. They’re all talking about me, but none of them actually address me: It’s like I’m there, but not really. It’s really strange, and I don’t like it at all. It doesn’t help that they’re all standing around me, I feel so trapped. My usually dormant claustrophobia starts to rear its ugly head and I focus on my breathing and not on what the strangers surrounding me are talking about.

  Eventually, Sage guides me to a table that’s laden with fresh food. Everyone gathers around and before I have the chance to reach for a particularly red apple, they all bow their heads and start murmuring something to themselves. Huh, must be a prayer or thanks of some sort. Not being religious myself, I politely wait to see what everyone else does before eating. With each new piece of food that is consumed, a piece of it is bitten off and laid on the grass, a whispered “to the trees” said before the rest of the piece of food is eaten as normal. When I look in question at Sage, she gives me a small smile and shakes her head, telling me not to worry, she’ll explain later.

  As the day moves forward into the afternoon, Sage doesn’t explain what their prayer was about, instead leading me around and introducing me to everyone. It’s going well—so far, everyone is genuinely nice, but there’s no way that I’ll remember all of these names! They’re all similar to Sage. An ol
der woman named Willow, a middle-aged man named Cedar, a young child named Daisy. All very “mother earth”. The more people I talk to, the more that strange feeling I got earlier persists. There’s something just ever so slightly off about this place. Nothing outright dangerous per say, just… very far from normal.

  It’s only when I wander around and try to find Sage again that things start to get scary.

  She’s standing with a cluster of other women, all dressed in the same style as she is. I approach quietly, not wanting to interrupt what looks like a very intense conversation.

  “… prevent the beast… the gardens.”

  “… sacrificial…”

  What beast are they talking about? Are there bears or mountain lions up here? I move closer to hear, just as Sage speaks.

  “… can assume that she is indeed a virgin, as she confirmed that she has had no serious lovers in her life.” At Sage’s words, I realize who they’re talking about: Me.

  I slowly back away, trying not to look like I’m running. Why didn’t I tell anyone where I was going? I’m up here in the wild with crazy people—one of which I’m related to! Dimly, I’m wondering if I should be offended that everyone just assumed that I’m a virgin because I’ve never had a serious boyfriend—even if it is true. A much bigger part of me is hurt as I realize that maybe Sage wasn’t asking all those questions because she wanted to get to know me: She just wanted to see if I fit some strange criteria.

  As I draw closer to the trees I turn around and start jogging away, towards where I think I remember Sage parking the car. When did we get so far away from the entrance to this small village? I hadn’t even noticed, I was so overwhelmed by all the people around me, they must have slowly been guiding me deeper and deeper into the woods. Just as I think I’m in the clear, someone grabs me from behind.

  “Let me go!” I shout and start squirming, trying to break free. Before I can even get an arm free, more people show up. I catch a glimpse of Sage in the crowd, a disapproving frown on her face. “What are you doing? Let me go!” I continue to yell.

  They pull me deeper into the woods, darkness creeping among the trees as night approaches. I’m in good shape, I love to run and hike, but the sheer number of people holding on to me prevents me from having any chance of escape.

  Are they truly going to sacrifice me? The thought terrifies me because everyone knows that sacrifice means death.

  Chapter 3- Apollo

  The woods are my home, although they didn’t used to be. The little cabin that I now call my house used to belong to my great-grandfather, the stories about the nearby village cult we’re just a scary story my father would tell me around Halloween. Now, it’s my reality.

  I moved up here when my fighting career ended. Well, my career didn’t end—I quit.

  They used to call me “The Hammer”, you see. It was because of just how hard I could hit, and I liked the name: I had it because I almost always won. That is, until I hit someone a little too hard.

  My opponent had been a younger guy, new to the MMA circuit. Our fight left him with brain injuries, resulting in the end of both his career, and the life that he once knew. Now, he’s in a long-term care facility. I wasn’t criminally charged or anything; we had both signed papers and knew the risks that came with professional fighting. That doesn’t mean that I don’t feel guilty as all hell for what I did.

  That’s why I moved up here, to get away from it all. I quit, cancelled my contracts, donated most of my prize money, let my buzz cut grow out, and high tailed it up here. My manager had his doubts that I would be okay on my own. He seemed to forget that I went to college and studied solar and alternative energy sources. I hate the dumb jock stereotype; it’s been used against me my whole life.

  Now, instead of training in a gym, I’m preparing for the approaching winter. The accomplishment I get from the simple things, such as chopping logs for the fire, is more than I ever got out of fighting and winning prize money or trophies. Checking to make sure the gardens have all been cleared, chopping wood, ensuring that the solar panels and wires are all in working order. It takes longer than you’d think, since I’ve got to navigate through the trees and bushes that surround the cabin I call home.

  It’s getting dark, but I don’t mind it. There aren’t any wild animals out here… at least, none that would be a threat to me. When I first settled in, it wasn’t long before I ran across two young wolf-dog hybrids. I named the greyish one Boss and the brownish one Joe. I spent days just watching them, leaving food outside for them as they slowly got used to my presence. Now, they hang out with me more often than not, bounding around and roughhousing with abandon.

  They’re also the perfect early warning system if something is wrong. Given the way they stop their playing to prick up their ears and stare off into the trees, I know that something is.

  I set my wire clippers and electrical tape down on a nearby rock and walk over to them. “What do you hear, boys?”

  Suddenly, Joe lets loose with an eerie howl and Boss is quick to start growling. That’s not good. They start loping into the trees and I follow them when I hear it. Someone is screaming.

  Chapter 4- Freya

  “Hey! What are you doing to me?” I’m not sure why I’m still yelling and shouting at them. It hasn’t been working so far, but it at least makes me feel like I’m doing something to save myself.

  A group of women—Sage included! —had surrounded me and forcibly changed me out of my jeans, tennis shoes, and plain t shirt and into a dress. Not just any dress though: This looked like an old prom dress from the eighties, with the fluffy tiers and shiny material. They even pulled my underwear and bra off, and since the dress is strapless, I’m freezing. Although, it’s hard to tell if I’m cold from the sinking temperature in the rapidly darkening forest or from the onset of shock as I face the potential of my own death. Once I was dressed, they shoved me up against a tree and started wrapping me to it with rope.

  I wonder why the image looks familiar as I look down at myself and then I remember. It reminds me of the drawings that would be in history textbooks about the witch trials, when young girls would be tied to the stake and burned alive. Oh god, I hope that’s not what they have planned for me! I don’t want to die at all, but I can’t imagine that being burned to death would be the quickest way.

  “You… you aren’t going to s-set me on f-fire, are you? Wouldn’t that h-hurt your t-trees?” I ask shakily. Sage is standing near me, watching as members of (what I realized far too late) her cult make sure I’m secured to the tree with knots the size of a fist.

  “Do not speak of that which you do not understand, Freya. They are not our trees. We serve them, we do not seek to harm them.” Sage looks at me dispassionately as she speaks. She steps back and joins the others, all gathered in a semi-circle around the tree, facing me. No one looks concerned or upset on my behalf. In fact, no one looks that excited either, they all just look… calm. Too calm, like this is totally normal for them. Who knows, maybe it is.

  Everyone is ignoring me as the talk amongst themselves, much the same stuff as before. They’re talking about an offering to “the beast”, whatever that is. It’s only when I hear the word “virgin” brought up again that I start to worry. Why would a bear or a mountain lion or some other type of animal care if I was a virgin or not?

  I guess I’ll find out soon enough because everyone starts talking at once, this time with a patterned cadence. It’s almost ritualistic, and I realize that that’s exactly what it is. It’s almost time, they’re really going to do it.

  That’s when I start screaming. I beg them not to kill me, to let me go. I swear that I won’t tell anyone about them, I’ll pretend I didn’t see anything. No one seems to notice… or worse, no one seems to care.

  Chapter 5- Apollo

  I follow Boss and Joe through the dense trees as we chase down the sounds of yelling, the occasional scream setting my teeth on edge. It’s obvious that someone is in a lot of trouble. Not
many people come up to this part of the woods. It’s just me and the local cult. I would bet my beloved cabin that they are the cause of whoever it is that’s screaming up ahead.

  Seeing the light of a fire through the trees, I hang back even as Boss and Joe trot ahead. They’ll blend in better and I know that they’ll cause a ruckus that will get my attention if they smell blood. For two wolf dogs that are more wild than not most days, they’re amazingly loyal.

  Peering past the bough of a large tree, I look to the clearing ahead. Just as I suspected, the cult members are here. They’re… well. To be honest, they are fucking nuts. They’ve lived up here for years, usually keeping to themselves. Despite the stories that my family told me, we’ve never had any problems with them. That is, until I started living up in the cabin full time.

  For whatever reason, they seem pretty scared of me. I get it, I’m I big guy: Tall and I’ve still got my hard-earned muscles from my days of fighting. The only thing is, I’ve never really associated with them; I’ve certainly never gone out of my way to be around them. I’ve seen them in passing, from a distance but to my knowledge, they’ve never seen me.

  I’ve even got speakers hidden sporadically up in the canopies of the trees and in the various rock piles around the forest. Using the energy from the solar panels mounted on the roof of the cabin, I’ve got them set up to play sounds. At first, I wasn’t sure what would be enough to upset cult members and keep them away, but I eventually figured that simpler was better. I downloaded various wild animal noises, mixed some together, and shuffled them up. Various big cat roars, wolf and coyote howls, and bear roars are spliced together. If I ever notice the cult members getting too close to the part of the forest that I consider “mine”, I just trigger the nearest speaker using the remote I’ve got on me at all times. The sound of a nearby “wild animal” roaring is enough to send them running for cover. That’s probably why they think that I’m some beast!