Werewolf Boyfriend: Grayson (special preview)

Usually, when your family says they have relatives living in the woods, it means someone is living off the grid, they’re redneck, they’re crazy, or some mixture of the three. Your aunt and her wife are none of the above, maybe a little crazy, but the good kind. When the world started to kind implode upon itself, your aunts invited some of the family to come stay with them during quarantine. They owned and operated a bed and breakfast so they had the room, the supplies, and the ingenuity to make it through the months long process.

Taking up the offer, only because you knew your roommate was going to be a giant challenge, you moved to be with them. Your cousin, Junie, had also come back from college, and another relative had taken up a room. There was also one of the employees of the bed and breakfast. The handyman had come to stay, but you barely saw him. You and Junie had come to refer to him like a cryptid, only seeing him when it was foggy or dark out. He kept to himself, which was nice, considering how this quarantine was all about close confines. It was better than your tiny apartment, but still, it felt like the walls were closing in sometimes.

Your original plans for the spring and summer had all revolved around work, but all were canceled due to the pandemic. You were prepared at least, if you needed to go into the woods for a few days. You had a camper attached to you truck, which was filled with camping equipment, rations, and all your photography equipment. The plans for your travels were still marked in the planner on your front seat. Sometimes you would sit behind the wheel and just look at that planner, thinking about where you would be now, what you would be doing. Slouching back and looking out the window, you could be anywhere but a bed and breakfast in the woods with only a tourist trap in view.

During one such sit and mope, the cryptid handyman walks right in front of your truck. He has an ax slung over his shoulder, and he looks more like a wild bear than human. He had seemed less hairy when this whole thing started, then again, so did you. You slouch down in the seat, hoping he doesn’t see you. Once you think he’s gone you sit back up with a sigh of relief.

You glance back into your planner, feeling heavy hearted about plans. You wouldn’t have the money you usually do come winter to take a vacation, so you’ve already been putting feels out for winter and fall work. Which you hated, you didn’t deal with the cold very well.

There’s a tap at your window and you turn, seeing the handyman standing there. You lurch, feeling your hair stand on end.

“It’s supposed to storm tonight. I’d move your rig out from under the trees.” He then points with his ax to the driveway. “Just park in front of the garage, no one is coming in or out.”

You roll down the window slightly. “What kind of storm?”

He shrugs. “Does it matter?” He points back to the driveway. “Just trust me.” He walks away, going to the shed behind the house where all his equipment is stored.

You do as he asks, moving the truck and camper so it takes up the driveway. You take inside some of your equipment too, just in case. Fiddling around in your room, you start cleaning your camera, which leads to cleaning everything else. You double check connectors and backups, you begin the long process of going through your inventory, updating your website. Soon, it begins to get dark outside as storm clouds gather.

Taking your camera, you go up to the attic where your aunts have turned into a sort of tea room. It smells like potpourri and the bisque dolls sitting around the place are creepy, but the big decorative window is the perfect place for pretty snapshots. You’d been trying to set up a print shop, hoping to make some small amount of money. Having a series of photographs taken through this window had been your goal originally, but quarantine had gotten you.

The first shot you had taken had been when you arrived, the scenery outside was gray and heavy with small strokes of green as winter gave way to spring. The second was lush with greenery and flowers from spring. Then you gave up. Now, this third shot showed the world painted gray and heavy from the upcoming storm. In the distance you heard the rumbles of thunder, which you began to count to track how far away it was.

On the road just outside, you saw the handy man walking. He came to a stop and drug his ax along the dirt making an X at the entrance. You watched him curiously, wondering what he was doing, it almost seemed like he was placing a warning. But for who?

That evening you were helping your aunt Rosie in the kitchen making dinner. You were used to quick roadside diners and fast food during the summer, having something home cooked almost every night was kind of nice.

“Did Grayson have you move your truck today?” Rosie asks.

You look back at her from chopping vegetables. “Who?”

“Grayson!” She laughs. “Our maintenance man.”