Skeeter

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SFW
A girl with a concerning profession returns to live I her childhood home next to the swamp with a swamp monster.
Minor Horror elements and mentions of gore in what the author would describe as "somewhat mundane depictions"
It should, however, be noted that the author has also partaken in said hobby so they are numb to this stuff.

"Ow!" You hissed under your breath, jerking your bare foot from the ground after stepping on a particularly sharp branch you missed in the dark. You used to run through these backwoods paths all the time as a child, but it had been years since anyone had passed through these parts, and that meant no one had been able to clear out the errant rock or fallen branches. And running out to catch the stupid cat while it was pitch black out was not a smart set of conditions to traverse this path slowly, much less speeding after the fastest "crippled" cat you had ever met.
"Coolio!" You hissed, hopping on one foot as you looked around for the glint of his orange eyes, or the patch of white fur on his chest and backside. A small cat chirping sound spinning you back toward the light of your back porch, where the little bastard sat on the railing, holding his long since healed crooked foot aloft his body as he stared you down like he thought you were stupid. You sighed and held your brow as you closed your eyes.
"For fucks sake, Cat, thought a gator was gonna get ya." You snapped, slowly walking back, carefully watching what little of the ground you could see for dips in the ground or twigs.
As you neared the edge of the treeline, a familiar rustling in the leaves behind you sent you into an instinctive dash for the house, as it always did. Did you know what skeetered through the swamp all throughout your childhood? No, but Mama didn't raise an idiot, and you would choose life everytime.
You scooped up a rather calm Coolio as he licked his crooked paw without even pausing, shooting into the house and slamming the door closed, tossing the cat to the couch as you snapped the deadbolt into place.
You panted heavily, a thin sheen of cold sweat coating your whole body, not from the 15 yard dash, but from the fear.
Coolio gave a yowl as if he was chiding you for being dramatic and you turned your head sharply to glare at him.
"Of course you aren't scared, you are to dumb to know why fear is necessary." You growled, stepping over half empty moving boxes and various debris from moving into your childhood home. You flopped onto the couch beside him and he curled up next to you, pressing his back against your thigh. You relaxed against the back of the sofa and sighed, closing your eyes. You were safe here, this was home, you told yourself as you slowly relaxed your body slowly and methodically, just as your therapist had taught you, soon drifting off to sleep.

You groaned as your phone buzzed in your pocket, gently rousing you from your sleep. You pulled it out and held the screen to your face before opening your eyes, hoping that would save your eyes from the glare of freshly woken eyes meeting bright pixels.
You hoped in vain.
You sat up, disturbing his royal highness from his slumber. You rubbed your eyes as your phone started to buzz again. Squinting you looked at the screen, barely being able to tell that someone was calling you. You glanced at the clock: 5:12 AM. You growled under your breath and answered.
"Someone better be dead." You spat, only pausing as you felt little paws started to knead imperfect biscuits into your thigh.
"Does a 13 foot gator count?" A chipper voice responding, almost sounding like a fucked up dub of some magical girl anime.
"What killed it?" You asked, sitting up and stretching.
"I don't know, probably some one trying to get some gator leather, since they took all the skin." Nadya said, sounding almost bored. Shame you knew her, and also could hear the slightest hint of her bold and toothy grin a mile away. You sighed.
"Aight, where is it?" You asked, standing to go get the large trash bags and the chainsaw.

"Jesus, look at how clean these cuts were made." You said as your friend peered over your shoulder. Who ever had done this had one sharp blade, and a surgeon's mastery in using it. Barely a single slice into the muscles of the creature.
"At least we don't need the skin." Nadya pointed out and you scoffed, standing up straight.
"So, where are the scutes?" You asked, noticing that they were missing. Normally, if skinning gators and dumping the body was the norm, they would be scattered around the corpse as in order to get a clean piece, you would have to pull the skin from the bony plates.
"Maybe they wanted them?" Nadya shrugged and you pouted.
"Damn, they are my favorite bone."
"You can have the skull, I just want the spine." Nadya offered as she walked back to your supplies.
"Why the spine?" You asked, looking over your head.
"Got a buyer looking for a bone whip." She said cheerfully as she pulled the cord to the chainsaw.

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