She sat staring into the bonfire, thinking about how her occupation as storyteller, and merit badge counselor, at the local library, was paying off. Her newest endeavor, with the local Boy Scout Troops, was keeping her healthy. She watched the flames lick the air, as they rose towards the sky, releasing sparks that danced like miniature demons upward and outward. Her Nike clad feet rested on a log in front of her while she sat slouched in her lawn chair. Moreover, the dark, the light from the fire shaped her shadow. It took on the supernatural look of a misshapen hunchback sitting in a broken recliner.

The storytellers tongue mindlessly ran back and forth over her left canine while she purposely allowed her surroundings to lull her into a somber, dark, mood. While the sound of the boys gathering their sleeping bags from their tents could be heard in the background behind her. Zippered doors on tents, zipped up and down, while the boys’ adolescent voices drifted towards her on the cool October night’s breeze.

She closed her eyes, shutting out the pulsing inferno that left the imprint of the fire’s light burnished upon her eyelids. In addition, the crackling of the fire spoke to her, through the magic of the night, as a twig snapped nearby, and she cocked her head to listen. Then a low, unfamiliar, grunting noise arose out of the darkness. Without hesitation, she allowed her mind’s roving eye to conjure up a monster of small proportion, standing, just outside of the boy’s camping area. She could see it lurking in the shadows—waiting as her limp heart skipped a beat when, a pine knot, within the fire popped. Her eyes opened with confident expectation. That did it! Now I’m in the right frame of mind.

She sat up and twisted around enough to catch a glimpse of the troops’ campsite that lay only a few yards away in the woods. The eerie glow, cast by the lanterns, produced a smile on her lips as she watched the boys’ phantom shadows moving about. The visions danced, among the trees, giving the illusion of elongated giants, which furthered the setting upon the stage within her mind.

The adult troop leaders emerged from the alcove of trees and she watched them walking silently towards her carrying their campstools. They reminded her of hunters coming home with their kill for the day. Then she noticed, the staff, which was the only distinguishable mark between the men, signifying that the Scoutmaster was with them.

Turning, she resumed her relaxed position and chuckled, thinking to herself about how this was her favorite spot on the Boy Scout Preserve. The wide-open field was unusually ominous tonight lending an urgency of foreshadowing to her task. Closing her eyes once more, she thought about the open field she was sitting in. This hollow, between the trees, usually revealed a star-studded sky, and on more that one occasion, she used this same location to the educate boys who were interested in working on their Astronomy Merit Badge. Tonight was different. There were no stars. She had noticed evidence of rain earlier and a mist had appeared over the field at sunset. It had hovered for awhile, but tonight the light haze was being consumed by fog. Everything was falling into place. The atmosphere couldn’t be better if I had planned it.

The woods that surrounded the field gave the impression of secrecy and she liked that fact. By taking advantage of the area’s seclusion, she could conjure tales that helped to falsify her stories. History was added to her tales sometimes by telling the story of the Acadians who were persecuted and chased into Louisiana from Nova Scotia. Added information was introduced including the idea that some of the Acadians were practicing witches. She would end with a cackle saying that this very spot had once been consumed by evil—Sacrifices had been made. The Indians living in the same area slaughtered many of the Acadians thinking that their evil malignancy had cursed the land and their crops. The Indians convinced that evil spirits still haunted this place, even after the massacre, moved further south.

She knew her job as a storyteller was working when she saw the boys’ eyes widen. Some of the younger ones would draw in closer to her as though she was the harbinger of the shadowy spirit world. Their gaping eyes resounded with knowing that she could ward off any evil spirit that might be approaching to harm them. It always amused her how the older boys remained lying around the perimeter. She knew they were hanging on the border of manhood and would never admit to fear in front of the younger boys. She felt compassion for them when she saw the fear in their eyes but she respected their right of passage.

"Everything is perfect," she said aloud while removing a cigarette from the pack on her lap and lit it. Her eyes followed the smoke as it rose upwards spiraling towards the hazy, full, moon. "Yes, everything is perfect," she mumbled again in a voice that was barely above a whisper as her tongue moved over her dry lips.

The stage was being set for her including the haze that had appeared around the moon. The open field surrounded by the woods, the glow of the lanterns shinning through the mist at the campsite, the fog, and the sounds of the mysterious unseen nocturnal animals prowling in the dark procured a sense of mystery. All of these seemingly minute factors would substantially furnish the atmosphere she needed for her story tonight. The transition of her surroundings, which had taken place since dusk, was not unlike ingredients in a soup pot. Now, all she would have to do is stir knowing that her young audience would be filled with vivid illusions that would dance in their heads, and she knew the visions would not be sugarplums. Eventually, one of the boys would need her to quiet their fears. She would comfort them, after everyone else was in bed, here by the fire. Once more, she moistened her lips, as the time grew closer for her to narrate another tale of terror.

The adult leaders, four men, who led this merry group of boys on their adolescent journey to manhood had arrived and placed their stools on either side of her. She acknowledged their presence by saying, "Good evening, gentlemen."

"The fogs getting heavier—I guess you're pleased with the present conditions?" the Scoutmaster, Jonah asked. She ignored him as he leaned over closer and whispered into her ear, "Did you get my message on your answer machine?"

She turned her head in his direction while the reflection of the fire danced in her coal black eyes. "I listened to it." That was all she said turning her head back towards the fire. Jonah rested his hand on her arm and gave it a small squeeze to which she replied, "So, do you have your flashlight?"

"Sure. Why?"

"Walk me to the bathroom, please." She stood throwing her cigarette into the fire and allowed him to lead the way. The fog was waist deep and both leader and follower had to be careful not to step into the invisible armadillo holes that was scattered about the area. Their progress was slow. "Why didn’t you call me?" Jonah persisted.

"We’ll talk when we get to the bathroom."

The remainder of their trek, to the other side of the field, was made in unexpressive silence. The only articulation came from the surrounding woods. Jonah shone the flashlight on the outhouse, which had served as a welcomed resting-place for countless other visitors in this desolated spot. "Here, take the flashlight with you," he offered.

"I don’t need to go—I just wanted to show you something. I need your opinion." He shone the light at her face wondering what she was up to. "I need you to turn around first because I have something to do. I’ll tell you when to look."

"Alright," he said turning around smiling a crooked boyish grin. His light reflecting off the fog while the fire glowed in the midst of the white vapor. "Why didn’t you call me?"

"Because I like you."

"Then why? Your answer makes no sense."

"That is why—if you were to get to know the real me you might not think so highly of me. Besides, I like our friendship just as is." She smiled to herself adding, "I can talk to you when I get lonely without all the other crap that goes on with more than a friendship. Do you understand what I’m saying? Alright—you can turn around now, but bring your light up slowly, so you can get the real effect."

"But I think I’m…" was all he could say as he turned around, shined the flashlight at her face, and inhaled in fright.

"Do you think it’s too much?"

"Are those red contacts?" he stepped closer to get a better look at her, while she stood there blinking under the intensity of the flashlight’s beam. His brow wrinkled, as his left hand touched her cheek, causing her to quiver slightly at his touch. "Can I touch the teeth?" She nodded as his left index finger traced its’ way over the bottom of her top teeth. "My God. They feel so real!" He said as he lowered his left hand and she smiled.

"They better look real…they cost me an arm and leg. So…you think it’s too much for me to wear while I’m telling my story. I wanted your opinion?"

Jonah stood staring into her flaming red contacts with black slit pupils. A desire rose in him that he had never known before. He remained standing there overwhelmed by her gaze. "Jonah, snap out of it! I’m trying to get a verdict from you. Please, shine that light away…it’s beginning to hurt my eyes." Still, he stood there entranced as she pushed his hand downward slightly and began snapping her right fingers in front of his face, "Earth to Jonah…Come in." Taking the flashlight out of his hand, she jiggled the beam in front of his face and received two blinks from him. Finally, he snapped out of it.

"No…" he said, looking down at the fog as he began to rub his forehead. "What did you do to me?"

"I used my feminine charm on you," she grinned noticing there was no mirth on his face. "Jonah, are you alright?" She took a step towards him but he backed away.

"You…"

"I’ve scared you…I’m sorry. That was an unintentionally mean trick. I should’ve warned you," she ended frowning.

"Those eyes…I saw into your very soul!"

"What…what are you talking about? They’re contacts…look…I’ll show you if you’ll hold the light for me." She offered him the flashlight noticing the trembling hand that took it. He stood there, watching her pop the contacts out into the palm of her hand, which she immediately offered to him. "I’m sorry…I didn’t think you would be affected like that," she said. Removing a case from her jacket pocket, she returned the contacts to their proper place. The pearly white teeth followed. She cocked her head to the side and looked at him, "Are you alright?"

"I just need to regain my composure. I’ll be all right…we’d better head back because the boys will be waiting." She tried to step closer to him but he avoided the gesture by turning to walk back towards the campfire. "You see what I meant when I said you didn’t know the real me. Now you’re not talking to me," she sighed, trying to keep up with him, hoping that neither one fell pray to a hole. "Jonah, slow down. You’re just mad because I scared you and bruised your male ego." Her long black ponytail swung from side to side while she attempted to keep up the pace.

"No…that’s not what’s wrong." He stopped walking and faced her. For the first time, she witnessed the vulnerable man behind the name Jonah. He stood contrite before her, as his eyes looked into hers, searching for a reprieve, hoping that before nights end he would find the right words to say. Minutes passed without him expressing what was going through his mind. There was nothing substantial to convey to her. Both of them stood there motionless, appearing to be prisoners within the fog. Finally, after what seemed like a lifetime, she reached out and touched his arm smiling, "It’s alright…I understand. I guess the contacts and teeth would be too much. We’ll talk later, O.K.?"

They turned and approached the fire where they were greeted by anxious faces that voiced their eagerness to get started. The storyteller took her place in front of the fire that burned with the fury of Hades as she made sign for everyone to be quiet. Her arms and hands were held out as she waved them up and down signaling the group that she was ready to begin her tale. Clearing her throat, she donned her Cajun accent that always took on the spellbinding quality, which would hold her audience captive for the next hour.

"Tonight cher, I gonna told you a tale ‘bout that Bayou Goula Graveyard. Ooooo wheee cher, if you and yo pa pa and ma ma are ever dis side of dat White Castle you needa look fo dis old church wid a growth of dim woods back dare. Dis place just off de highway by way of August Road. Dare…lying in de middle of dem woods is de cemetery called de Bayou Goula Graveyard."

"Well cher, not so long go, de teenagers from round ‘bout areas us’ta go to dim dare woods to smooch. Some o’ dese kids would take an itching to go through dat graveyard, and dat’s what dis ticular tales ‘bout. Six teenagers gone into dat graveyard dare, but only five come out…"

She went on with her tale, as her voice rose and fell, weaving mystery into the night. Sometimes her voice would be so low her fascinated audience would have to lean forward straining to hear what she was saying. Then she would suddenly let out a blood-curdling scream, imitating one of the terrified teenagers, making her young audience jump. As she approached the climax, a stabbing emotion of regret overtook her, knowing that she would soon be leaving all of this vibrant life. She did not think that tonight would be a good time to stay to comfort the boys and to taste their innocence. Her life was becoming insecure again and she could not afford the luxury of being stupid. She would have to move on.

When her story was over the boys begged for more but she told them it was time to say goodbye. The adult leaders herded the boys off to their campsite and she watched as they disappeared into the fog that had consumed the entire area. Jonah stayed behind to talk. He sat in his chair idly hunched over, rolling his walking stick between his hands, "The fog's too thick and it’s too dangerous to be getting out on the road. I’ll sleep with some of the boys and you can have my tent." He looked up at her earnestly. Concern was etched between his furrowed brows. She smiled at him, sat down heavily into her own lawn chair as she bent over mimicking Jonah’s earlier mood, by putting her head down into her hands and rubbed her forehead. "You look tired," he said.

"I am," the stamina in her voice was gone. It sounded lifeless.

"I’m not going to let you drive in this fog, Jenny! You’re insane if you think I’m not going to try and stop you!" he turned his head looking into her startled face.

She leaned back in her chair and glanced at him, "You couldn’t stop me even if you tried." They sat there for a few minuets not saying a word and looking at each other.

"I’ve fallen madly and passionately in love with you, Jenny."

She bolted from her chair like her seat had just been set afire. A look of disbelief on her face. "Where did that come from?" she asked exasperated. "I have to go…that’s why I have to go…You don’t know me!"

Jonah reached out and grabbed her arm, as he stood to meet her challenge, "I know enough to see a good woman when I’m looking at her. Please, don’t leave me…stay. I’m frightened for you."

"You should be frightened for yourself," she said in a sorrowful tone. "I can’t stay here with you because it would mean certain disaster." Jonah pulled her close to him and she could smell the aroma of the outdoors. The smell excited her, but much more was the underlying scent of what she really needed. She wanted to pull away from him but the urgency of her compulsion was driving her closer to him. "No…I can’t," she sobbed burying her head in his chest. His arms encircled her feeling the spasm that ran through her body as he gently lifted her head and looked into her eyes. Holding onto her, they both sank to their knees as she turned her head, breaking eye contact. "You don’t know what you are asking of me," she said.

"I do…I want to be part of your life and you part of mine," he tenderly touched her chin and turned her head to face his once more. Gently, he raised her face so that his lips could meet hers. She embraced him held in tranquil serenity until the remainder of their bodies, that was not touching the ground, glided slowly downward to meet the wet earth. Jonah pulled her on top of him with Jenny reveling in his warmth and smell. However, she knew she could go no further unless she was sure, as she broke his embrace propping herself up on her arms while she looked at him. His face was a shadow reflected by the glowing embers of the fire.

"What’s wrong?"

"Jonah, you remember what happened at the outhouse? You were frightened of me."

"That was the eerie conditions out here and you took me by surprise…that’s all." He turned his head to the side.

"No, Jonah, that isn’t all, and I believe it’s what you’re feeling now. It’s the reason you’ve turned your head away. Look at me and see what I really am."

He hesitated only briefly before turning his head to look back at Jenny and observed her as she cocked her head to one side and closed her eyes. She appeared to be straining to hear an invisible orchestra playing an unnatural melody. Unwavering, he watched suspended between a blend of fright and awe as her mouth opened. Her breathing became deeper, while he lay there, prostrated beneath her. He focused his concentration on the two eyeteeth in her mouth. The close proximity of the dying embers reflected her special canine growth, "I’ve known what you are for a long time, Jenny," his voice was a hoarse whisper. "I’ve seen you with the boys when you wait for them in the night. I want to be like you."

Her attention snapped back in horror with the realization that he knew her secret. He had broken her trust by spying on her private world. He had violated her confidence in him. "You don’t understand," she muttered through clenched teeth while grabbing his wrist and jerking his arms above his head. She felt her strength returning with anticipation of what she was about to do. "The boys are just appetizers to keep me going. I’d never kill one of them. You’ve never really seen me feed." She said this as she straddled him looking down into his eyes with defiance and regret. "You’ve played with me turning my loneliness and emotions into a play thing to gain my trust when all you really wanted to do is gain immortality!" She waited for a reply from him but there was none.

"I’ll feed tonight and I will leave you with just a little touch of my world. You will linger belonging to neither the living or the dead." Then she bent down, sniffed his neck smelling the wine just below his skin, and hesitated briefly to look towards the campsite. Her night vision pierced through the fog revealing that all was quite. Then she looked down at Jonah and smiled, "Have you nothing to say in your defense?" He was quiet and she watched his Adam’s Apple move up and down as he swallowed the fear she saw in his eyes. "I could have made it so lovely for you…our joining would have been like no other. However, for your deception you will pay dearly. This is why I had to make sure you intentions were pure."

She bent down once more driving her weight onto her arms that held his wrist tight. The sensation of his pulse, racing through his veins, excited her towards a frenzy that lay just below her grasp. She licked his neck once—then twice, and felt his body tense as her teeth sank deep within his jugular vein. Jenny pulled down with her teeth to make the openings wider and he groaned in discomfort. She felt his body stiffened as she removed her teeth from the two open wounds she had just made. Blood pumped out the exposed vein with every beat of his heart. "Now, join my world," she said before letting her lips caress his neck forming a suction over the two exposed holes. She gorged herself on his life flow, feeling a renewed strength course through her body that filled her with a nourishing contentment.

Somewhere, in between complete euphoria and reality, Jenny felt Jonah’s body shudder. She knew she had taken enough. Sitting up, she twisted to the side, and came to rest upon the ground. Her head was swimming as she clumsily wiped her mouth with her arm. She stood and staggered slightly. However, she quickly regained her composure, as she turned and stood over Jonah. He stared at her through hazy eyes. "You won’t be immortal but your life will be a living hell. I pity your soul. There will be nothing that the living or dead can do for you."

He attempted to raise a flaccid arm but it quickly fell back to the ground. Even with her acute hearing his voice was out of earshot when she noticed his lips move slightly. Kneeling down she brought her ear closer to his mouth listening. "Please…don’t…for…boys…morning…I…love…" his words trailed off into oblivion as she watched a single tear trail down the right side of his cheek.

"What?" she uttered. Could I have misjudged him? I was so sure! Was I too quick to conclude that his motives were not true? Why didn’t he speak up before I bit him? Jenny frantically felt around Jonah’s belt for the pouch that held his knife. I have to know if his heart is true. Sliding the knife out of its resting-place, she knelt beside him in the last light of the dying embers. Rolling up her shirtsleeve revealing the milky white arm below she held it out and slashed a deep wound. She watched the dark liquid flow. The knife flew sideways as she discarded it. Moving to Jonah’s head she lifted it gently and let it rest it in her lap. With the use of her other hand she open Jonah’s mouth positioning her virgin injury over his lips and let a few drops of blood fall into his mouth. He stirred and she pressed her bleeding arm against his lips. He drank deep, long and hard hurting her. The strength she had gained began to leave her and she tried to pull away. Nevertheless, he bit down hard, sinking his teeth into her flesh. Jenny gasped knowing that if she pulled away half of her skin would be left behind. "Jonah, let go!" She tried to break free as a pain shot up to her shoulder. Jonah’s arms came up wrapping around her back in a death grip. Minutes passed as he grew stronger and she grew weaker. All sense of reality melted, as she fell to the ground, exchanging the prostrated position that Jonah had occupied. Her eyes stared blankly at his hiking boots by her head. He stood over her, holding his staff between both of his hands. It hovered just above her chest. Jenny looked into a face now brandished with the sadistic grin a conqueror. Her last thought before Jonah drove the staff into her heart: My loneliness is concluded…yours has just started. You are my savior…I am released.

*****************

Several days later newspapers throughout Louisiana ran an article concerning the strange finding at a local Boy Scout reserve in Clinton, Louisiana. It was reported that after a night of ghost stories around their customary bonfire the boys and leaders of Troop 15 went to bed. Upon arising in the morning, the cooking detail went to the field where their bonfire had burned in search of living embers to start their breakfast fire. Upon approaching the ashes, they discovered the grisly remains of a human body with the Scoutmaster’s staff protruding from the rib cage. Unfortunately, the body was charred beyond recognition. However, one of the adult leaders, with the group, did identify the staff as the Scoutmaster's. The staff was identifiable because of the carved snakehead that adorned the top. It was reported that the Scoutmaster is missing and forensics had been called in to try to identify the body.