Page 11 of Oh No! There's an Incubus in my Hot Spring
I run out to grab a few things from the RAV and pant in the oxygenless mountain air. I’ll get used to it eventually. The city peeks out from the tops of pine trees that line the gravel road, and I admire it for just a moment.
“All mine.”
The hall with the “Do Not Enter” sign does indeed lead to the owner’s shack. It’s a small, studio apartment-style space, but that’s great. I don’t want a lot of space. I don’t want a lot of distractions. There’s a kitchenette with a wood-burning stove, a toilet, and a shower all out in the open in the corner, and space for a bed next to a much bigger fireplace.
“Cozy,” I say, taking in my new home.
I whip out Charlie and set him on the dusty counter. “All right, what do I do first?”
Obviously, you get out the wine to celebrate your victory of an exceptional purchase.
“Very good, Charlie. Excellent thought.”
I set my mostly empty latte aside and pull out my groceries. I open the premade charcuterie board and pop the cork on thewine—but not without fucking cutting myself on the corkscrew, damn it.
I suck on my bleeding palm and another problem presents: no wineglass. I could empty my coffee and drink from there but…“No. No, thanks,” I murmur, looking around at the dark wood cabinets.
I open the first and it’s empty. Second over the faucet: empty. But when I open the third, I’m pleasantly surprised to see some kind of demonic ritual goblet, complete with a skull and crossbones on the side and a fake purple gem. It’s one of those favors you’d see at a fancy Halloween party.
I laugh. “Fucking Leonard. I bet this is his doing.”
Probably,remarks Charlie in a deeper, less quackier voice than normal.
I pour my cheap wine into the cosplay ritual goblet and take a sip.
“Yep. That’s ten-dollar wine,” I say with a wince.
My camping lamp gives off decent enough illumination, so I pick it up, deciding to continue my tour while my phone charges. Past Leonard’s tag on the second floor is a beautiful sitting room, complete with colorful crystals jutting out of the walls and a set of frosted-glass double doors leading to a patio.
There are private bath chambers on the left and right, as well as toilets, but I’m not interested in either of them right now as the balcony beyond the glass calls to me. I open the double doors with aclickand asqueakto the most enchanting patio I’ve ever seen—even though it’s covered in decaying leaves and enough dirt to start a garden.
I take a deep gulp of my wine as I devour the sight around me. At least four hundred square feet of rock built directly into the cliff wall, trees growing on either side, all of them actually alive and green, and a trickle of hot spring water coming out of thewall into a sizable pool that swirls and steams. I move toward the opening where the heated water emerges from.
“Shouldn’t someone have turned this off?” I ask before realizing that Charlie is back in the bedroom.
Who can turn off nature?The same deep, dark voice appears in my mind and I swear to fuck if Irene put mushrooms in my coffee…
A shadow moves over the doorway back inside. But it’s my shadow, right? It’s dark out, dusk, and the lantern. Yeah. It’s just my shadow.
I go back inside, looking over my shoulder as I close the door.
The hallway beside the stairs back down leads to another hallway that has a single door for a private bath, and more stairs leading up. I take another drink of my cosplay sacrificial wine and head up, because why not?
There’s nothing to fear here.
Right. Ghosts aren’t real. There’s nothingsupernaturalabout this hot spring. It’s just an abandoned resort because of Silver Mountain buttfucker Mark. Doesn’t he know a little competition is healthy? It gets the market going, gets people talking. We could even play discount tennis, volleying back and forth between each other.
Keep going.
“Okay,” I say, raising my lantern and climbing the steps to the next floor. There’s another set of double doors but no sitting room, and nothing else. I open the left one with some difficulty and suck down a deep gasp as I take in the scene.
Grizzlywood Springs, all glowing and bright, is laid out before me. A hot, sulfuric waterfall rushes out of the side of the mountain and flows into a natural recess on the balcony. There’s moss on either side of the canal, all of it bright green and thriving. I love the natural look of the place, and despite whatMark might think, I feel it’s a boon that twenty years has allowed this place to merge back into the wild.
The smell of the spring curls up under my nose, followed by a breeze off the mountain. It’s pine and sulfur and moisture, so different from what I’m used to. I love it. I want to sink into the pool and enjoy it.
Do it.
But I’m still wearing my clothes.
