Me, My Elf, and I

By Andrew E. Moczulski

Eric Margrave, professional monster hunter, is having a bad time. Once again, a case has taken him out into the woods, and there's no pretty monsters this time... just cold, darkness, and what might be the most suspicious town that even HE has ever seen. But when a mysterious stranger drops by his campfire at night, well things will get a little...

... Well, still bad, actually. But more interesting, at least!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Andrew E. Moczulski
• Release date: Feb 7, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311973962

Andrew E. Moczulski

Long-time writer, short-time trying to sell it! See some of my above links for examples of non-professional fanwork; they aren't to the same standards of professional quality as what I will post for sale, but they give a decent idea of my style. I hope to be around for a long time, so please, I hope you enjoy my stories as much as I enjoyed writing them.

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Me, My Elf, and I

A Slayer of Evil (Prices Negotiable) Story

By

Andrew E. Moczulski

Copyright 2015, Andrew E. Moczulski

Smashwords Edition

*****

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Don't have no use for outsiders 'round here, said the man, before spitting something that was hideous and black at my feet.

He was, admittedly, the sort of guy you would kinda expect to be saying something like that and most particularly doing something like that. His beard was thick, scraggly, and stained with (I was assuming, though I wasn't exactly gonna get close enough to be sure) tobacco. His teeth were the same charming shade of yellow and black, and his eyes were bloodshot and jaundiced. Also, narrowed in clear hatred. Not annoyance, not vague dislike, not disgust. I was pretty used to those, especially from my friends and family. Especially from my family. But raw hatred was rare. Particularly since, um...

I didn't actually ask you any questions yet, sir. I said.

It was true. I had come all the way out yonder to Quill Lake, Wyoming, a town so small that I was fairly sure it didn't actually exist. For certain, my GPS hadn't actually known where it was. And now that I was actually out here, it seemed to have been about twenty buildings, total, and at least five of the ones I could see were barns. And not even barns with animals in them, even. Derelict rotten wood, all over.

'Quill Lake' wasn't even a real lake. There were no lakes here. I had no idea why it was even called that.

Upon arriving, I had canvassed the town, which took about thirteen seconds. And then I had approached a local who seemed tolerable and asked, and...

Well, you remember the spit.

Don't care if you have questions. Don't care why you came here. We don't. Have any use. For outsiders. Get back in the car and leave. Road is clear.

"Road is dirt. You don't even have gravel and I almost hit three deer and a woodchuck. Or I hope it was a woodchuck. If that was a baby bear than I'm gonna have to be very careful on my way back out, because I don't think my van will stop a grizzly, I said. But the fact of the matter is that three hikers have gone missing in your woods, man. I don't know why they were there, since it's practically impossible to get out here. But the second victim's mother was very clear on where her daughter had been doing her hiking, and the other two were roughly in the right area at the right time. It all added up right."

The old man shrugged. Woods are dangerous. Bears. Wolves. Coyotes. Boars. People go missing in these woods all the time.

I sighed. Look, man. I'm not questioning that woods are dangerous. I go into woods all the time. I'm just questioning if any of you in town saw the hikers when they were in the area? Or maybe if anyone's seen anything else that struck them as weird? Bigger wolves than usual, maybe? Something that was bear-sized but didn't quite look right? Any people in town who have gone missing lately, or been acting oddly sick?"

"Only sixty people in town. All of 'em fine. Except for number sixty-one. He won't take the hint and leave."

I sighed. I was used to people in small towns being jerks. Tight-knit communities, regardless of the type they were, tended to have issues with people coming from outside. And all my research suggested that this particular tight-knit community should very likely be under siege, of some sort. Three people missing from the local area in as many months? That was not normal hiker procedure, and realistically, anything with that much appetite would likely have taken a few snacks from the town as well. Yet the place looked... serene. A bit dilapidated, maybe, but not like something you'd see from a town being assaulted by hell-spawned terrors.

Look. I understand that you're having a rough time here, and I empathize. I really do. Some fancy city boy runs into town asking about people? People who have vanished? And are probably dead? I mean, why would anyone want to help people who were killed in the woods? Maybe they were eaten by bears, but why would any decent human being want to give any sort of closure to the family of those lost in the wilderness?

The old man reached into the rusty pickup truck behind him, and pulled out a much less rusty shotgun. He pumped it once.

"You are just the worst, I muttered, turning around and heading back to my van before the horrifying old mountain man gunned me down like an animal. As I did, I muttered, Did you sense anything strange, Lyd?"

"Nothing at all, other than an extremely rude man," Lydia whispered in my ear, briefly appearing directly next to me for the time it took to whisper, and vanishing. Behind me, I heard the old man choke on something and fall over.

You manifested for no reason other than to make him choke on his vile tobacco spit, didn't you? I thought fondly to my personal guardian spirit.

I am sure I have no idea, she thought primly. I simply felt a deep-seated need to tell you that directly. Verbal communication is important to a partnership.