Chapter One—Twilight

Chapter One—Twilight

**AURORA**

“Order up!” I managed to smile, serving the last of my tables when one of the men in the booth squeezed my calves. Wide-toothed and reeking of liquor and devastation, his foul stench and lewd behavior disgusted me to the core.

“Come on Rory,” he spouted, “You know you want some of this sugar.”

“No thanks Denny,” I replied trying to conceal the disdain I felt, “Is the food okay?”

He winked again, I felt butterflies in my stomach and not the good kind, more like flying cockroaches, “It’ll taste better once I get a—

I walked off, not wanting to hear the rest of his crude comments and headed straight for the kitchen behind the counter. Madeline, the head cook was busy whipping up her famous smash burgers on the grill. She sent me a dirty stare.

“Are you done—

“Yes,” I quickly cut her off, not wanting to be the brunt of her usual nags, “My shift is over. I’m going home now.”

I saw her teeth clench, her hands tighten around the handle of her spatula. She hated when I interrupted her, which was why I did it often.

“You’re big trouble girl, with those fancy ass paintings of yours,” she gargled with some of her spittle going onto the mounds of ground meat on the grill, the diner wasn’t know for its cleanliness anyways, “You’re never gonna make it out of Midnight Bay Aurora Thompson. You’re just gonna be a waitress for the rest of your life.”

Madeline was a nasty woman, everyone knew it. Red frumpy hair, pale as a ghost and two yogurts away from a heart attack. She was also my aunt, the only woman willing to give an orphan like me a job in a cold and leery town like Midnight Bay. I hated her so much and yet, she’s the only living member I know of.

“Goodnight Madeline.” I muttered, grabbing my jacket from the coat rack, and the half painted easel behind the back door. She ignored me and I shrugged anyway, finding my way out of the restaurant, headed towards Mason Creek on my bicycle.

Midnight Bay was the perfect place. A small town with so unfolded folklore, mystical beasts and whatnot. Although i never believed such fallacies, it was still nice for my hometown to be known for something. The recent buzz was of werewolves, Mrs Ackerman swore she saw a man turn into a wolf at her backyard one time—she was also known to be diagnosed with the acute case of schizophrenia

Werewolves.

Pfttt.

I took a turn towards the creek road, waving at some of the high schoolers who were probably up to no good and stopped immediately once I heard the silent stream of the water. It was like a song to my ears. Stories have been told about the spirit of a siren charting across the waters at twilight, it made no sense but I chose to believe it anyways.

I placed my bike against the stump of one of the trees, made my way down the lined rocks and to the bank of the river where I gently placed my canvas on the easel, and waited patiently for my subject of the night—The full moon.

It’s presence was exhilarating. The perfect muse for my perfect piece, I’d been waiting weeks just for this, as the prospect of my piece being put in the new gallery upstate shone brighter. Madeline thinks I’m just a failure, that I wouldn’t find my big break, and I’m better off marrying the mayor’s stupid son Thomas Stein who badly wants to make me his for some reason.

A sound was heard. My body stiffened, my breath held as I listened more intently with the bristles in my brush waiting to be dipped into the paint on my palette. I could swear I heard the wailing of a predator—probably a coyote or a mountain cat as they were pretty rampant across these waters.

“Stupid cats.” I murmured, finally letting go of the tension I felt inside as I finally dipped my brush, ready to make the first stroke.

Footsteps.

I could hear them now. Someone in-between the trees, the sound of crackling branches.

“Who’s there?!” I called out, a pretty dumb decision no doubt in case of danger but it was probably Denny and his other stupid goons trying to frighten me. I turned down his advances earlier on, this was some sort of payback.

There was silence now, like my nightly intruder cowered. I frowned deeply, hoping whatever sort of stupid prank Denny was about to play on me would quickly manifest so I could paint in peace. The moon was starting to make shift now, and with that my first stroke was made.

Ten minutes later and I was done with half of the painting , capturing the perfect shade of twilight blue and the pure iridescence of the full moon. Satisfied, with myself and my work, I decided to reward myself with a bath in the creek.

I took a swift glance, my ears perked hoping to not catch the sound of footsteps any longer. Satisfied with the results, I gently stripped my clothes off and dipped my legs into the pristine waters.

A groan of pleasure exited me. The chilly and yet comforting waters felt like a song to my soul as my eyes closed, relishing the beauty of the night—-footsteps again, and this time less discreet.

My eyes sprang open immediately and I jolted to my feet, covering my nakedness with so much of my hands as I yelled, “Who’s there?!”

Silence again, this time there was no plan to relent, “Denny I swear to God if it’s you in the shadows I’m reporting you to the sheriff! You won’t be near a woman for the rest of your damned life!”

The trees bustled, I was met with no response but only the croaking of the frogs in the water. I nipped my bottom lip, stepping out of the water to get my clothes when I felt it—a presence, an overwhelming daring presence behind me, my eyes caught the shadow right behind me.

I turned around, almost ready to accept my doomed fate—a man stood before me, with the most beautiful golden eyes I’d ever seen.