The Ladies of Horror
Picture-Prompt Writing Challenge!

Beneath The Mountain Mist 
by Kathleen McCluskey  

The cabin sat low near the water, nestled against the backdrop of a sprawling, mist-covered forest. Outside, the lake reflected the sky’s shifting hues. But inside, the air was warm and thick with the scent of roasted meat and spice wine.

Candles flickered across the long, wooden table. Their flames danced in unison to the faint strains of a violin in the corner. A fire crackled in the stone hearth, casting shadows that danced like ghosts on the timber wall.

“Isn’t this perfect?” Whispered Marta, her lips brushing against my ear. Her pale hand lingered on my arm, her smile teasing as if she knew secrets that eluded me.

“Yes”, I murmured, my eyes drifting to the others around the table. There were six of us in total. All strangers an hour ago, drawn together by an invitation. I’d received mine in the small mountain town below. A handwritten note tucked under my lodge door.

Dinner tonight. Boathouse by the Lake. An experience unlike any other.

I couldn’t resist.

The host, a tall man with silver hair and a voice like velvet, introduced himself as Jakob. His wife, Ingrid, moved with a feline grace as she poured wine into our goblets. Their smiles were welcoming, but there was something about them that unsettled me.

“What brings you to the mountains?” Jakob’s question snapped me back to the present.

“Hiking,” I said, feeling the weight of their gazes. “I’ve always wanted to explore this region.”

“Ah, a seeker of beauty,” he said as he raised his glass. “To the mountains, then.”

“To the mountains,” the others echoed. Their voices harmonized like an incantation.

Dinner began with a rich broth, earthy and savory. Followed by plates of wild mushrooms and pickled vegetables. Conversation flowed easily, but the mist outside the window seemed to press closer. It was as if it wanted to join us. When the entree came out, Ingrid carried it herself. The platter steamed, the aroma was both enticing and peculiar.

“Roast Venison,” she announced, setting it at the center of the table.

The others clapped politely, their eyes gleaming in the firelight. Jakob began carving the meat, his movements precise. When my plate was served, I hesitated. The flesh was darker than I had expected, the scent richer. Marta leaned closer, her breath warm against my neck, her soft bosom on my shoulder.

“Try it,” she whispered, her eyes locking onto mine.

I lifted the fork to my mouth, the world narrowing to a single bite. The flavor was exquisite. Velvety and deeply spiced, it was unlike anything I’ve tasted before. I couldn’t help but take another bite, and then another.

“That’s it,” Jakob said, his voice lower now. “A shared meal is a bond formed.”

Something in his tone sent a chill down my spine. I looked around the table. The others were eating with fervor. Their faces were alight with an almost feral pleasure.

Then I noticed the ring.

It was on the platter’s edge, partially hidden beneath a slice of meat. A simple gold band, tarnished and scratched. My heart began to race.

“I’m full.” I said, pushing my plate away.

Jakob’s eyes flickered to me, his smile tightening. “Are you sure? There’s plenty.”

Marta placed her hand over mine, her fingers icy cold despite the warmth of the fire. “It’s rude to waste,” she murmured. Her voice like honey dripping from a rotten comb. I pushed back my chair, the legs scraping loudly on the floor.

Then it happened.

The room darkened, the fire’s glow receded into the darkness. The air thickened, suffocating. Around me, the guests began to change. Their fingers elongated, nails curling into claws that glinted in the candle light. Their faces contorted. Jaws unhinged. Teeth lengthened into jagged fangs. Eyes, once human, gleamed with a feral hunger.

Marta’s hand tightened on mine, her nails piercing my skin. I yanked my arm away, stumbling backward as the others rose from their seats. Their movements were smooth and predatory.

“We’re so glad you came,” Jakob said, his voice deeper now. It was deeper now, layered with something inhuman.

I turned to run, but Ingrid was already there, her twisted grin showing bloodstained teeth. Her growl reverberated in my chest as she lunged, forcing me to dodge and crash into the table. Plates shattered, wine spilled like blood, and the others advanced. Their claws scraped the wood as they surrounded me.

Panic surged through me, and I bolted for the door. My breath was ragged, my heart pounding.

But Jakob was faster.

He loomed over me, his shadow swallowing the dim light. His claws gleamed as they descended toward my face. His smile was wide and inhuman. The last thing I saw was the glint of those claws. They were razor sharp and unrelenting as they sliced through the air.

.

Fiction © Copyright Kathleen McCluskey
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com 

More from Kathleen McCluskey:

The Long Fall: Book 1: The Inception of Horror

Lucifer always cunning and intelligent challenges father to a battle of wits. Being the angel of light he casts a judgemental eye upon mankind. He begins a war with his fellow archangels and God. Michael, along with his siblings defend their home and mankind from their deranged brother. Broad swords and hand to hand combat drench heaven in blood. The four apocalyptic steeds are released, each having their own destructive power. Betrayal and lust are at biblical levels. Understand the very creation of evil and the consequenses that transpire in the first of THE LONG FALL series.

Available on Amazon!