Dying on the Vine

By AeroW

WARNING: strong language and sexual themes

I never thought Halloween night would end my life here on earth, but it's amazing how quickly things can change.

Going to the Pumpkin Carnival should have been simple, easy fun. They had weekend feasts and opened up the rides on Saturdays. My plan was to grab some cocoa, go back home, and cozy up to some feel-good Halloween films.

And then there was Devland.

Hiding behind a wicked smile and a top hat, Devland and his fellow carnies held secrets I never would have imagined. He's always been so kind and gentle with me. I never would have guessed what he was capable of and, worse yet, what I was capable of.

Something is creeping in the shadows. When I'm not paying attention, when my eyes are closed or I can't see, something is coming after me. And when it catches me, I will lose everything... including myself.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AeroW
• Release date: Oct 29, 2020
• ISBN: 9781005056285

AeroW

Aero Westbrook, better known as AeroW, is a paranormal romance writer who specializes in short stories, aka novellas.

Book preview

Dying on the Vine

By AeroW

Copyright 2020 Aero Westbrook

Edited 2021

Published by Aero Westbrook at Smashwords

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Cover designer: J.R. Stafford

Table of Contents

Acknowledgements

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

About Aero

Acknowledgments

I would like to thank Covid-19 and my friends who played horror games with me for allowing the inspiration and nightmares that made this story possible. I would also like to thank cheap wine and Starbucks for making those instant coffee packs, particularly the Pike Place flavor; these two things came together to create new addictions for me that helped me push through it.

Chapter One

Monday

The Pumpkin Carnival came to town every October. The rides and games were open on Saturdays, while feasts and concession stands were open during weekday evenings. The last Saturday marked the end of the carnival and finished off with an adults-only Halloween party and free wine. Everybody came to enjoy it, even out-of-towners.

Most people barely paid attention to the workers, only focusing on the addicting, spicy aromas of exotic foods, beers, and wine that complimented the vintage games and rides. The carnies melted in the background with outdated costumes; most of them didn't speak, and those who did spoke little. There were some entertainers, all of whom were ignored by passersby. It was an unspoken rule to have as few interactions with the carnies as possible.

One man, however, had an uncanny talent for attracting drunk women and the occasional man who strayed away from their pack. Devland. He stuck to shadows and corners and scanned the place with vigilant eyes. Often, he had a flute in hand on which he played soft, soothing melodies. Perhaps it was his full, black beard or that he was so big, so monstrous of a man—something kept them coming. It also could have been the gentlemanly style, with his fitted silk shirt tucked into a velvet waist jacket, black trousers, and leather boots, which he completed with a top hat. He was the silver fox type. Because of his outfit and preference for shadows, he was secretly known as Dreamy Dracula. Whatever the attraction, he was always being cornered by someone.

This particular night was no exception.

I watched as a college girl stumbled her way to him with her neck exposed. Though this year was slightly different with everyone wearing masks and contained to smaller groups, she wasn't going to let that stop her from reaching out for a stranger. He politely shook his head, but she persisted, throwing her hands on him—anywhere she could touch. He hid his own hands, which were covered in black gloves, behind his back; he wouldn't touch her back. Even when she started pawing at his clothes, which she was about thirty seconds away from doing, he wouldn't lay a finger on her.

His eyes snapped up and locked on mine. My breath caught in my throat. They were dark but calm, and although I never saw him defend himself, I had the strong feeling he could twist her neck without blinking an eye.

Time to intervene, as I always did. I wondered what he did before I showed up or when I wasn't around, but I never asked. I didn’t think I would like the answer.

I postponed my trip to the hot cocoa stand to save the day, though his or hers, I wasn't sure. He doesn't want you, I warned, grabbing the girl by her ponytail. In her heels, she stood about half a foot taller than me.

She stumbled back. Bitch! How dare you lay a hand on me!

I'll lay a foot on you if you don't back off.

She mumbled something unsavory, but her friends found her and led her away, saving her from embarrassing conversations tomorrow about the black eye I was ready to give her.

You're late, Devland whispered, his breath sending chills down my neck. I got it. I