Cameron recognized the way he talked.
“Mason?” She shuddered as the man’s grip tightened.
“Just Mason?” His tone sounded appalled.
“Prince Mason.” Cameron tried to swallow down the lump in her throat but it seemed to swell even more.
“There you go.”
“What do you want? It’s really cheap of you to kill me before Halloween, you know. Makes you look like a sore loser.” Cameron snarled.
“I’m not here to kill you.”
“Then why are you here?” She stopped fighting his grip but remained stiff with fear.
“Just checking in. I was hoping we could chat.”
Cameron stuttered, “Here to chat? It’s night. It’s…”
“A few minutes past midnight.” Mason finished for her. “So if you just give me the gun, we can get right to it.”
Cameron let out a heavy sigh, but still held tight to the rifle.
“What? You expected me to visit during the day and lose my handsome looks? You’re crazy.”
“No. You’re crazy! Just release me and I’ll put the gun away.”
“I don’t think so. If you use it, I just might have to defend myself. And believe me, it won’t go good for you.”
Cameron relaxed her grip on the gun and he slid his hands along her arms to grab it, releasing Cameron as he did. She spun around and caught him grinning at in the dim light of the moon, holding onto the rifle. His eyes reflected the light like a cat’s. Ice blue and milky white, bright as a lighthouse, cutting through thick fog.
“Are we going to talk or what?”
“At the table.” He bobbed his head to the tiny kitchen table in the middle of the room.
She turned and walked over to it, then took a seat. After a second she looked back, but Mason was gone. Her breathing became shaky and her muscles seized.
Wendigos are light on their feet and very stealthy, minus the noisy Wendigo that was outside of the window. Losing track of a Wendigo means certain death.
“Mason?” She whispered.
“Just a sec.” he yelled from the other room.
Her lungs deflated in relief.
“What are you doing?” She asked, as she stood up and walked around the table, heading for the bedroom.
No one answered. Stepping carefully along the creaky wooden floorboards she walked through the doorframe into her bedroom. The socks on her feet muffled the sound of her steps. The house seemed darker and emptier than ever before, all of a sudden. She raised her hands out in front of herself, making sure she didn’t bump into anything.
Again she whispered, “Mason?”
No answer. Cameron kept walking, careful of where she placed her feet, taking tiny steps farther into the dark bedroom. Her heart began to pound faster, every breath flooded her ears with sounds. She held her breath, now the room seemed to hum with silence. Cameron turned around, deciding that it was probably best to let the prince of the cannibals do his thing and wait for him at the table. She took a step and collided with a warm solid wall of flesh. She started.
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