Title: TNT Terror
By Jana Denardo
Author Note: Enjoy this freebie flash fic written for the Sweet & Scary Flash Fic Blog Hop. I’m looking forward to reading the other offerings (Follow the link to more!) I set this one fairly local. I live pretty close to Point Pleasant, WV. Word count on this is 736 words. I wrote another one (also set local) that was a tad long but if you want something a bit long (under 2,000 words) you can find it here.
Tim cursed out the dense underbrush around the TNT area in Point Pleasant. He and his team of paranormal investigators had scouted the area in the daylight. Even then, it had been hard to spot the igloo-shaped storage areas. Mother Nature had done her best to reclaim the land. Now in the dark – because no one wanted to see investigative footage shot in daylight, even though that’s when many ghost hunters actually did their work – the area morphed into an ankle-spraining nightmare.
“Okay guys, Rob and Sharon, you two go investigate to the west while Tanner and I handle the igloo areas,” Tim said, checking his recorder.
“Sure thing,” Sharon replied. She and Rob, armed with cameras, recorders and EMF readers, made their way west.
Tanner nudged Rob. “Are we actually looking for the Mothman?” In the yellowish light of his flashlight, his face set into an expression of pure incredulity.
Tim shrugged. “Not really but there could be ghosts. Our fans wanted us to check it out since we live so close. Besides with the Mothman festival getting so big, with those guys of Mountain Monsters being here a few weeks ago, everyone wants to know more.”
“Just asking. Weren’t there Sasquatch hunters around here recently too?” Tanner herded Tim back toward the plant-covered igloo.
“I think they call it Grassman around here but yeah.” Tim turned on his EMF reader.
“I believe in ghosts but I draw the line at Squatch.” Tanner ran a hand over Tim’s cheek, making his heart thunder loud enough to scare away every ghost in a ten mile radius.
“And the evidence they presented at the Mothman festival?” Tim grinned, not really believing in Big Foot himself, or Mothman for that matter.
“Do you ever think all those Big Foot hunters out there are just scaring each other without knowing it? I mean, what if one group starts tree knocking like a duck call, hoping to lure in a Squatch.” Tanner ghosted his lips over Tim’s. So much for getting any ghost hunting done. Well, he’d let Rob and Sharon have the video camera this time out for a reason. Making out in the TNT area was a decades old tradition, and wasn’t something the people who followed their ghost hunting YouTube channel needed to see.
“So one group starts and the other records it or does their best Sasquatch calls back and end up terrifying each other?” Tim speculated, leaning into Tanner’s touch.
“Exactly. Ever notice how many of those talks end ‘and we ran all the way back to the truck?’ Like a bunch of little girls.” Tanner snickered.
“Don’t be sexist but I know what you mean.”
Tanner buried his fingers in Tim’s hair, tossed into a careless man-bun on top of his head. Their next kiss was deep and long up against the storage igloo. Tim finally pushed Tanner back a scooch.
“We should at least get some readings before you get too out of hand.” He smiled at Tanner.
“And here I thought you said no to outdoor sex.” Tanner rubbed a hand over Tim’s belly.
“I did but there is so much we could do without getting ticks on our balls.”
Tanner snorted, and whipped out his infrared camera from his satchel. Before he could snap more than two pictures a shriek split the air making them jump. More screams followed along with the sounds of someone crashing through the woods.
Their partners burst into the clearing, Sharon running flat out while Rob ran like Hollywood’s idea of a drag queen: arms up and waving as he outdid Fay Wray.
“What the hell?” Tim took off after them.
“Monster!” Sharon snapped.
“There’s no such thing as-”
Tanner’s voice died as huge red eyes appeared in the tree top. Something leapt down, and they all heard the rush of wings. Tim didn’t know he could run so fast. They fled the woods, piling into the car. Tanner took off down the road with the doors still half open.
When he could finally speak again, Tim asked, “We didn’t get any of that on tape, did we?”
“Sorry no,” Sharon answered. Rob merely panted, making incoherent noises.
“Good. Don’t need famous for this.” Tim shuddered. “And let us never speak of the fucking Mothman again.”
No one protested as Tanner headed for the bridge the hell out of town. No one ever would.