Mountain Man Available from Absolute XPress

Mountain Man Stella has run away from an abusive relationship- a few days to herself in the mountains before deciding how to begin a new life. After having a car accident she is rescued by a mysteriously seductive man who lives in the mountains as a hermit. She soon discovers why he is alone- his sinister history coincides with a macabre myth told for decades amongst the local people. Has she found the man of her dreams, or has the nightmare only just begun?

Excerpt

They said he stole another man’s wife. So great was his lust he traveled days, from the cabin where he lived a solitary life, high in the mountains, to the outskirts of the town, to wait until he caught a glimpse of her--a lovely young woman whose only mistake was to drift innocently away from the crowd in the market. They said that no one saw him take her, that her screams for help were never heard. Yet her shawl was found, near the spring where the cold clear water gushed from the mountain’s gut.

Enraged at the disappearance of his young wife--his most prized possession--the husband searched, following her trail they said, with unnatural awareness. It was suggested throughout the town, that the husband’s rage was so extensive that he sold his soul to the cloaked devil that waited by the gushing stream where the shawl was discovered, sold his soul so he could find the cabin, kill both the thief and an unfaithful wife. The husband, they said, was an unreasonable man, given to fits of lunacy and imagination, and convinced himself his wife was not stolen after all--that she ran off with this wild, untamed mountain man--because her desires were too insatiable for a common man to satisfy, and this husband was, more than anything else, a very common man.

The devil laughed, however, because even the common man possesses a soul. And to assist the infuriated husband’s quest, the devil presented him with a double-edged dagger, a weapon that would complement the growing rage, a weapon that would secure the violent demise of two more souls. Evil followed along behind, whispering directions into the husband’s ear, taunting him with the perverse acts his naked wife was relishing at the hands of another man, because with blind fury the cabin would fill with blood, and even the children in the town know that devils like to tap-dance on wooden floors soaked with blood.

In the clearing beside the lake was the cabin. They said the husband went on alone, leaving the devil behind in the edge of the wood, to watch a wicked plan proceed. Softly he tread, this tortured man, up to the open window where a woman’s sighs drifted out to touch his ear. He gripped the dagger as his wrath heightened--the voice belonged to his dear sweet wife--and proof of her infidelity was but a footstep away.

"Look inside!" croaked the devil’s call. "She is a whore and has made you a fool! A fool, do you hear? A wretched, pathetic fool!"

They said the husband could barely see what was inside, so thick were his tears. He blinked away humiliation and wrenched to the profound shock of horror instead. On the bed she sprawled--his dear sweet wife--her skirts lifted around her waist, her knitted white stockings rolled down to her knees, her back arched. Between her thighs he stood, this thief, thrusting himself inside her, his thumb stroking the black curly hairs of her mound. She sighed heavily, her delicate features contorted to the pain of endurance, for in his shattered mind the husband dared to believe this was nothing less than molestation and an honorable wife would not simply tolerate.

"Fool!" the devil’s voice scoffed. "She takes pleasure in him!"

It was true. Her cheeks were flushed crimson and her lips pursed to a wicked smile of pleasure. And she gasped an immodest shriek when the thumb rubbed her so that her spine arched and her beautiful blue eyes dimmed.

"Keep watching!" the voice taunted. "Now see what the whore will do!"

His heart had stopped as he watched her fold forward and grin to her lover, those lovely lips--the lips that promised a vow on her wedding day, the lips that consummated the vow on her wedding night--those same lips part to take the thief inside her mouth. Perverse, heathen act--how could he watch such unforgivable sin? How could he allow such crime to go unpunished? He staggered back from the open window, they said, and dropped the dagger onto the wooden platform that edged the cabin.

Those who retell the story are divided in belief over what happened next. Some say the devil, watching from the woods, grew impatient with the man’s foolhardy hesitation to murder, and in its own fit of rage leapt from the shadow and tore the husband’s throat open. Others say, no, the husband’s soul was already lost so murder wouldn’t much benefit the lurking evil. It would, they argued, benefit the mountain man to slit the rival’s throat from ear to ear. He had coveted a wife and was hell-bent on keeping her favors to satisfy his lusts. Lust, greed, covet, and murder--there was enough unrestrained sinning in that cabin to keep a legion of devils expectant for great reward.

Either way, the husband bled--clutching a severed throat, sinking to his knees--to see the world and all its disappointments fade into the twilight of eternity. They say his last vision was that of his dear sweet wife, watching apathetically as his life drained away.

Some said she actually tap-danced on the wooden deck soaked in her husband’s blood.

But no one knew for certain if any of this actually happened. There was no record of marriage that autumn of 1899 and no record of death, either, although this could simply mean that the evil that lurked here had clouded the minds of those who told and retold the story and dried out the inkwells before accurate records could be written.

The ruins of the cabin remain, however. They say if you are unfortunate enough to stumble upon the clearing beside the lake and spot the stone foundation, a black fear from being watched will close around your spine. They say you might even catch a woman’s gentle sighs or hear her steps dance on boards long since rotted into the earth. And if this happens, they say you should leave, quickly, and quietly, because even the village children know that devils like to tap-dance on wooden boards soaked with blood.