Monster in My Closet by R.L. Naquin Read Free Book Online Page B

shut. As if I didn’t have enough going on, now I’d have to make an appointment to get my car detailed.
    I pulled myself out of the car and glared up at the six-foot-tall monster smiling back at me.
    “Do I want to know who Aggie is?”
    Maurice shrugged. “Just a hag who lives on the other side of the woods. Your mom took care of her when she was sick sometimes. Aggie was glad to help.”
    My mother had been a very busy lady.
    “I’m going for a walk. No more surprises. I can’t take it.” I turned and stomped away, refusing to look back over my shoulder.
    * * *
    I plodded through the half mile or so of woods that separated my house from the ocean. I dragged my feet through the leaves and pine needles.
    “Buying me off with food. Stinking up my car. Monsters and fairies.” I kicked a rock and watched it roll under a bush. “Hag? Really? Not even a witch. No, I have freakin’ Baba Yaga living down the street.”
    I wallowed in my own petulance. I wasn’t in the habit of feeling sorry for myself, but dammit, I deserved a little pity party at this point.
    “I’ll suck you dry. Stupid incubus.”
    Once I stopped grousing and turned my attention to my surroundings, I realized how quiet it was. It could be I’d frightened the wildlife with my stomping and mumbling, but the silence was deeper than anything I could have caused. No birds scolded each other or flew overhead. Squirrels didn’t skip between the trees, tails twitching in Morse code. The breeze was slight and didn’t rustle the leaves as it passed.
    My skin grew clammy and I quickened my pace. To the right, I thought I glimpsed something moving in the shadows, and I whipped my head around to catch it. To my left, something large but silent kept pace with me.
    I hurried.
    Behind me a twig cracked, breaking the silence. Of their own accord, my feet stopped moving and planted themselves in the dirt path. My ears twitched, and I rolled my eyes to view my surroundings without moving my head. Nothing. The forest was still quiet. The only sounds came from the surf in the distance. I took a careful step, my senses alert for the slightest noise or movement as I walked.
    And now my imagination has run off and stolen what’s left of my mind.
    Two minutes of paranoia later, I broke through the thick stand of conifer and eucalyptus. Dirt and pine needles under my feet gave way to hard-packed earth with sparse, gnarly growths, then dark, pebbly sand. I looked over my shoulder and saw only trees and shadow. No eyes stared at me from the brush. No talons reached to claw off my face. There was no smell of putrid, rotted flesh or wobbly zombies moaning their lust for my brains.
    My shoulders loosened, and I turned my back to the empty wood.
    The mixture of scents struck me first; the fresh, almost medicinal smell of the eucalyptus trees behind me merged with the salty tang of the bay before me. A powerful, instant spirit-lifter, no matter how many times I walked down this way. I bent and hiked up my green gypsy skirt so I could unlace my purple Doc Martens. I took the opportunity to peer under my arm to the woods behind me. All clear. I really was losing my mind.
    I shoved the boots and socks into my bag and made my way down the beach to my favorite rock. My purse made a dull thud as it hit the sand. I gave it a critical eye. I supposed it did lack style. Surely it wasn’t that bad. I stepped over it toward the water and faced the Bay. The wind outside the tree cover was much stronger, whipping spray into my face and through my tangling hair. I stood like that, enjoying the emptiness and freedom for several minutes before I felt eyes watching me.
    I whipped around and scanned the woods, not sure if I wanted vindication of my suspicions or more proof of my impending insanity. Off to the right, a large shadow moved and stepped into the light. For the first time in my life, I wished I were a badass chick with a crossbow or wicked knife instead of being an emotion-magnet