Hearthway Hollow

Faustin the Rougarou

Female Reader x Male Monster

You should have trusted that death rattle you heard a state or two back, but no, you were determined to get home fast. You should have trusted that old guy at the last gas station you stopped at, he knew what he was talking about. But no! You wanted to get home at a record pace.

Now you're probably going to be a week late - or that's what the mechanic says. As you stand in that tiny, grease-soaked garage, you count down all the car-based mistakes you've made in your life. This one takes the cake. The mechanic points you in the direction of a motel you can stay at that had reasonable prices. Only thing is, the prices aren't reasonable, they're suspect. As you soon learn, the motel's rooms are the stuff of retro porn flicks. The walls have gaudy patterned wallpaper, stained and peeling in spots. The carpet is red, and not the good lipstick variety, but the bad Flamin' Hot Cheetos dust kind. Then there's the bed. You decide to leave the covers tucked, and go to the nearest store to buy a cheap throw blanket and pillow.

You leave your room before the sun even comes up, unable to listen to the guy next door talking loudly on his phone in the bathroom any longer. You go to an all-day diner within walking distance and plop down in a booth. It's mostly old folks there, enjoying their breakfast and each other's company.

"What can I get you?" the waiter asks as he sidles up to your table.

"How much is too much coffee?" you grumble.

"Coffee is free with the order of a full meal, refills included," he replies. "I would recommend the endless hash browns, and you also get free bacon with that."

You glance up at your waiter, shocked he isn't some poor high school kid. He's a tall, rather strapping man with wild red hair and bright gray eyes. You're stunned for a moment, unprepared for any human interaction, let alone one with a super-hot stranger.

"Yeah, that's good." you say.

He smiles at you. "Great. I'll get the order in right away and bring you your coffee." He jots it down on the order pad before walking away.

"Wow, they grow 'em big around here," you murmur to yourself as you watch his retreating back.

You feel the hair on the back of your neck start to prickle, and you get the sense you're being watched yourself. You look up from the red formica table, glancing about the diner until your eyes come to rest on a man in the back. He's tall and gangly compared to the waiter, all dark-complexioned and with pitch-black hair. His eyes are a bewitching blue, and they dart away as soon as you look at him. As he turns his head, you notice scars extending along the side of his neck. You stare, not because of the scars, but because of how familiar he looks.

"Here's your coffee," the waiter says.

You jump up from your thoughts and nod. "Oh yeah, thank you."

The waiter lingers. "You look new," he replies. "Visiting?"

"Not really," you grumble. "My car broke down, so I'm staying at the motel across the way. It's awful."

"No kidding," he chuckles. "How long are you in for?"

You shrug, then take a long drink of coffee. "They had to order a part, so I'm hoping by the end of the week I can head on home."

"Well, best of luck to you." the waiter says before he walks away.

"Another attack," an old man grumbles at his newspaper. "Girl claims someone was trying to grab her in the strip mall parking lot. Something like a wild animal got the guy."

"It's the rougarou," his wife replies.

The husband scoffs. "You'll believe anything."

"It happened when I was a girl! I saw it with my own eyes," she snaps at him. "The rougarou have been here longer than any of us."