Banged In The Bayou: Monsterotica Book 1

Banged In The Bayou

Monsterotica: Book 1

by

Madison Sevier

Copyright@2013MadisonSevier

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED:
This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission of the author, Madison Sevier.

All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. The 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 use only, then please purchase another copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Author's Note:

This book is 18+
EROTIC HORROR, FICTION with graphic language, situations and humor. Do NOT read if you are under the age of 18, hate sex, monsters or humor.

Banged In The Bayou

Monsterotica: Book 1

Chapter One

After being on the road for fifteen hours, I, Rosie Peaks, investigative journalist for the Ridge Top Review in the small town of DuFour, Indiana and lover of all things fashionable and frivolous, never expected to find myself stranded on the side of the road in a backwoods, Cajun community. I’d saved every dime I could for an entire year and getting to the Gulf of Mexico for a weekend away from my boring job was my only goal. However, sipping fruity, alcoholic drinks at a cabana and sunbathing on the beach would have to wait. I watched as my dreams of being seduced by hunky life guards disappeared into the smoke that was billowing out of the hood of my rental car.

“Damn
! Not even one bar on my cell phone. Where the hell am I?”

The past hour of driving had gone by in a blur. I didn’t recall passing a road or town sign and strangely, I felt as though I’d been driving in circles. The occasional shanty and crocodile were all I’d seen. Now, as I stood on the side of the dirt road, surrounded by giant Cypress trees, I watched
as the daylight faded quickly and even in the extreme heat I felt Goosebumps scatter across my tan arms at the thought of what could possibly be in the surrounding swamps and trees.

“I had to be a big shot. I just had to come down here alone!”

Not that I’d had much choice. I’d lived in DuFour for exactly one year and seven months and in that time, I’d worked seven days a week, which left little-to-no time for socializing. DuFour isn’t exactly a bustling metropolis and to date, the most exciting thing I’d written about had been when an Amish man ran for the county sheriff’s position and believe me, it caused one hell of an uproar.

I’ve never seen so many people angry
over a candidate for any office. But those people were flat-out pissed. How dare an Amish man, shunned or not, ex-Amish or not, think he could run the Sheriff’s department?  The office had always been led by one family, generation after generation. The end result was mobs of Amish families and English families in the town square throwing rotten tomatoes and grapes at each other. The would-be sheriff ran out of town and hadn’t been heard from since.

My father, a Buckeye through and through, couldn’t believe I’d taken the job offer and moved to such a small town
that seemed to be full of outlandish events such as that.

“What a waste of a perfectly good college education.
I can’t believe this is what I spent my hard-earned money on.” Every time we spoke on the phone it was the same thing.

The fact is,
I’d needed a change. Living in Columbus, Ohio for over thirty years had been enough. I wanted peace and quiet, a small town life with low-crime rates and even lower drama rates. Visiting two years ago, in DuFour, I’d thought I’d found the perfect place to settle down and raise a family. I’d love to think that it could still happen, but for now, I told myself I was one hundred percent happy being single, paying my own bills and living in a cozy, one bedroom apartment in one of the downtown, historic buildings.

“Which is exactly where I should have stayed instead of attempting to drive to the Gulf of Mexico alone!”

“Someone please help me.” I prayed, though I almost hoped that no one would answer. Honestly, I was terrified at what type of help would arrive. Nothing against the community, but I’d read and heard enough to know that a young woman on her own and stranded could find herself at the hands of a madman or even a madwoman given the right circumstances.

The air was as thick as cotton and even when I kicked at a stone, the dust from the dirt road barely made it off of the ground. I couldn’t stand around all day expecting some tow truck to appear out of thin air so I shoved my purse under the front seat and locked the doors of the car before venturing out to find someone, anyone who might have a phone. I knew the chances were slim, but I’d be damned if I’d just sit around waiting. Besides, I’d studied plenty of crime scene reports and seen plenty of scary movies to know that I was better off as a moving target. Just in case, of course.

Did I mention that I have an overactive imagination?

“Why don’t I ever wear sensible shoes?” The expensive sandals I’d chosen for the trip were far from comfortable, but the straps were studded with rhinestones and perfectly accentuated my calve
s. I realized my one must-have-completely-inappropriate-for-road-trips-walking-or-anything-practical-accessory was now cutting into my ankles. I’d already walked too far from my broken down car to waste daylight by going back for a change in walking attire, so I sat on a large rock beside the dirt road and removed them. Slinging the ridiculous shoes over my shoulder, I trekked onward, deeper into the forest.

“Of
all places!” I was now on the verge of being engulfed in complete darkness, save for the myriad of creepy eyes glaring at me from the trees and bushes. The humidity seemed thicker somehow and something about the atmosphere didn’t feel right. I could turn back, but I knew there wasn’t a soul living where my car had died. I had only one choice. Keep going.

Luckily, I’d worn thin clothing.
Even with the trees shading me, the heat was almost unbearable. I came upon a lake and sat down for a moment. My tube top, now soaked with sweat, had to be removed. I dipped it into the cool water and fashioned it upon my forehead, sliding it back into a make-shift headband, which I hoped would help to keep me cool for a bit. My long, chestnut- brown hair was matted with dirt and sweat, but at least, the fabric kept the majority of it from running down my face. There was nothing I could do about the thin, formerly white shorts I’d worn. They were a complete loss and I had to be grateful for the small but adequate coverage they’d provided. Muddy and stained or not, at least I wasn’t topless with my ass hanging out in the middle of nowhere.

As I sat there
with my arms folded over my chest, I remembered various stories or what most people considered Urban Legends, about the deep swamps of Louisiana. There’d been the ghost of Tom Cat Kelly, famous for slaughtering his entire family and then boiling them before eating each and every inch of them. And of course, the various supposed night hunters who preyed on stranded motorists and skinned them alive. However, the one that truly caught my attention years ago, had been the one of The Thing. Legend had it that he or it, was a swamp monster. No one knew its actual gender and there were conflicting descriptions, so they’d dubbed it the Nessiana Monster and that was the name that stuck.

For about six years, report after report had been filed throughout the state about a
large, green, plant-covered creature who’d been spotted carrying women, children and even men off into the forest, never to be seen again or heard from again. A few years ago, they’d sent hunting parties into various swamplands in the hopes of driving it out of hiding. Amazingly, the stories stopped after people began disappearing left and right. There was no one left to confirm or deny what was happening and no one else ever volunteered to go in search of Nessiana. Thinking back about the location of the last sighting and considering where I’d most likely become stranded, I realized I must be sitting right where the very last hunting party has disappeared.

“Shit.”

I stood, put my top back on and dusted myself off as I saw the last few rays of sunlight giving in to the night sky. I knew better than to be in out in the swamps alone at night, but what else could I do? By then, I had traveled deep into the bayou and I had no idea if I could find my way back out on my own. There hadn’t been one shanty that appeared to be lived in and not one had a light on. I was screwed…so screwed.

Chapter Two

Hours passed as I plodded down the winding, dirt path and the entire endeavor to find a living soul had proven futile. I couldn’t keep going. I was tired, hungry, dehydrated and on the verge of hysteria. 

“I can see the headlin
es now. ‘Missing Woman From Indiana Found Dead In Louisiana Swamp: Manner of Death: Stupidity’.” But, oh what a story it would be! If only I’d thought to bring a notebook with me, I could’ve been writing down the entire ordeal. What if I found Nessiana myself? Or even worse, what if Nessiana found me?

Literally, plopping myself down, I landed wit
h a muffled ‘Thud!’ on the rocky path.

“I cannot believe this is how I’m going to die. Dirty, sweaty,
eaten alive by bugs and shoeless with dried blood running down my legs. Unreal.” I slapped at giant mosquitos who were using me as a buffet and cursed myself for not grabbing other clothes before venturing off into a stinking swamp!

I
crawled into some tall grass, my knees bleeding as jagged pebbles sliced my skin and propped myself up against a huge, old Cypress tree. Small slivers of moonlight peeked through and reflected a glimmery surface sheltered deeper in the swamp. “Another pond most likely full of muddy water. Fabulous.”

I can’t tell you how many nocturnal critters ran and slithered
away from me that night as I crawled through foot and a half tall weeds, trying to reach the pond. I lost count. All I know is that there are way too many crocodiles, raccoons, bugs and snakes in the bayou and my vacation had taken a seriously shitty turn.

Finally, the glorified
mud puddle was only a few yards away and I braced myself for what I was about to do. Being a neat freak, normally drinking only bottled water had spoiled me to anything less than what fit my OCD standards. Sure I was already filthier than a greased pig, but still, I counted to ten countless times before I could force myself to cup my hands and drink the liquid. But I did it and it was the best water I’d ever tasted in my life.

After manically gulping a dozen handfuls, I felt my body recoil in disgust. Next thing I knew, I was on my knees, vomiting every bit of the fluid I’d greedily ingested. I have no idea how
long the heaves tore through my body before I passed out.

Chapter Three

“What the…”

I awoke to find myself on a bed of plants. There were walls of moss surrounding me and a musty odor filled my nostrils.

“Where? How?”

My first thought was that a serial killer had indeed found me and taken me to his cave in the woods. Either way, I was going to die.

At first, the only sounds I could hear were an incessant drip from somewhere in the cavern and the loud thumping of my own heart. I sat up, though my body protested as my head throbbed. Should I scream? Was there anyone there? I had a feeling that I was truly fucked. Wherever I was, it was not good.

Just then, I heard something moving. It sounded like someone was dragging a wet blanket across the floor.

A crocodile? A giant snake? Every warning bell in my body went off. I attempted to jump off of the slick greenery, only to find my feet were tied, shackled to the floor with what appeared to be seawe
ed. I yanked and yanked, trying to break free of the slimy strands but it was impossible! The sloshing sound grew louder, it was coming for me, but I wasn’t going to stop trying to escape!

“Screw
this!” I summoned all of my strength and pulled harder and harder, tears of frustration rolled down my face. I was so wrapped up in freeing my legs that I failed to notice the sloshing noises had stopped.

I smacked at my own legs, pissed
, defeated and terrified. When I looked up from my shackled ankles, what I saw would give nightmares to the Devil. Before me stood a creature. That’s the only way to describe it…him. The Thing stood at least seven feet tall and from head to toe, it was covered in the same seaweed type plant that covered my legs. I couldn’t recognize any sign of a face in that mass of algae, but it appeared to breathe. Somehow.

It came toward me, arms…vines outstretched as if to grab me and I tried to scoot away
, scraping my leg on jagged rocks as I tumbled off of the makeshift bed banging my knees of rocks and completely entangled in the greenery that held me.  Screaming my head off was my only option at that point.

“What the fuck are
you?”