The fog obscured my vision as I drove through the park entrance, but I could make out the sign that read TOWN OF LULA FAMILY RECREATION AREA; it was fastened to the open gate. I pulled into the parking lot and killed the engine. Removing the keys from the ignition, I nearly dropped them, my hands were shaking so much. On the seat beside me was a rose bouquet, a gift for her.

   I took her letter from the visor, my eyes scanning once more the words I had read at least a hundred times. The scent of her perfume was still strong on the pages, and I smiled as my nostrils caught the fragrance. If she was half as lovely as the cologne she wore, then she must be a beauty indeed, I thought.

   Glancing at my watch, I realized I was nearly an hour early; she had asked me to meet her at three PM. I had driven for over an hour, but the ride had been clear most of the way; it was at the Lula city limits that the mist had begun.

   Stepping out of my car, I decided to stroll around a bit and try to calm my nerves. Walking away from my auto, I disappeared into the haze that enveloped the park and made my way along the gravel walking path.

   As I did my mind drifted back to the first time we had talked. It was almost six months ago. I met her – her name is Karen, mine is John – in an Internet chat room for singles. I am an accountant by trade, and most of my life has revolved around numbers and spread sheets. But she didn’t mind. Where other women found me dull, she thought I was interesting and fun. I was hooked on her by the end of our first chat. And now she had agreed to meet me, in a park just inside the small north Georgia town she lived in, about seventy miles from my home in Atlanta.

   To you I may sound naïve, but I have lived a very lonely life, a handful of failed relationships my only forays into the romantic arena. I was desperate when I finally turned to the Web to find companionship. And it was there that my dreams came true. Karen ended my isolation. She made me feel special and appreciated.

   At forty, I was afraid I was too old for her. My hair was already turning gray, and a middle aged spread combined with thick prescription glasses advertised my poor health. But she stayed interested, even after I e-mailed her a picture of me. To my delight, she said she actually preferred "robust gentlemen."

   She had refused to tell me her age, citing feminine vanity, but I knew from what she talked about that she must be fairly young. She knew all about popular music, and other subjects I had long been out of touch with. After much effort, I was able to coax out of her that she worked in food service. She told me she was afraid that I would think less of her if I knew what she did for a living, but it didn’t matter to me in the slightest. I loved her.

   So much about her was cloaked in mystery. I wanted to speak with her on the phone, but she was too shy. When I asked for her picture, she said she had none to give me. I had learned a few things about her appearance, however. She told me she was a blonde with blue eyes, a little thin "these days," as she put it; and once she did confide in me that she thought she had nice legs. All of this sounded fantastic to me!

   I gave her my address soon after we began chatting. A few days ago I received her hand written letter, inviting me to meet her during the coming weekend. That is what had brought me to this tiny burg in the middle of nowhere.

   I had walked maybe a hundred feet when I saw the figure approaching me from the opposite end of the path. I could make out a dark shape ahead, and heard footsteps crunching in the gravel. Could it be her? I wondered. We had agreed to meet in the parking lot near my car, but maybe she had gotten there early as well. "Karen?" I called out, "Is that you?"

   The other person said nothing. The footsteps grew louder, but they were irregular, as if the individual was staggering. I moved aside to let them pass; the walkway was too narrow for two people to stand on side by side. The mist lifted just a bit as he neared me, allowing me to make out his features. What I saw next made my blood run cold.

   It was a man, with a face such as I had never seen before. His skin was dark gray, parched and leathery, like a baseball glove that had baked in the sun for months on end. Below his disheveled straw like hair a pair of eyeballs was set deep in his skull. It was impossible to make out their color, but I saw thick, crimson veins twisting through them in a sickening pattern. His nose was sunken into his face like a snout, and his nostrils were huge, with hairs inches long growing out of them. His thin mouth was slightly open, and a white, puss-like drool ran from his lips, off his chin and onto his clothes.

   I stood well away from him as he passed by me. He was a short, almost elfin figure bent over like a hunchback. His clothing looked ancient, and he gave off a foul, musty odor as he crept down the path. Poor devil, I thought, as I looked at him. I said nothing, but nodded politely and smiled. He ignored me as he shuffled along, taking halting and uneven steps.

   I breathed a sigh of relief as he passed me. He began to disappear from view as the mist wrapped itself around him. A moment later he was barely visible.

   Then he stopped in his tracks. I was certain I could hear the creaking of his neck bones as his ancient, wrinkled head twisted around. Then his eyes caught sight of me, and I froze as a malicious, leering grin parted his lips, showing off his shattered, yellowing teeth.

   "You smell good, boy," he said in a low, mocking tone, sniffing the air with his misshapen nose. The hairs that grew from it swayed in the breeze like tentacles. He continued, "Bet you taste good too." Though we were several feet apart, I caught the odor of his breath, and my stomach heaved within me. It was like the stench of a dead animal on the highway. I felt dizzy, and for a moment my vision faded to black.

   When it came back he was nowhere to be seen. I raced down the path in the direction he had been going, but there was no sign of him. Looking around me, I noticed that the fog was thicker than ever. My nerves shot by the weird encounter, I decided to return to my car and wait for Karen there.

   Going back the way I came, I stayed alert, afraid I would run into the old man. I nearly slipped several times on the wet gravel, but stayed on my feet and hurried forward. I saw the parking area ahead. Reaching it, I looked around for my car. I longed to lock myself inside, to be reassured by the familiarity of its environment, to turn on the heat and dispel the damp chill that had swept over me.

   My heart skipped a beat as I gazed around the tiny lot. My vehicle was not there! My mind reeling, I squelched the feeling of panic that arose within me. It has to be here! I thought to myself.

   But it wasn’t. In a few minutes the joy I had felt about this trip had turned to confusion and terror. Screw this, I thought; I was getting the Hell out of there. Maybe I could meet Karen somewhere else.

   I ran towards the entrance. I was out of shape, and my heart pounded against my chest as I exerted myself for the first time in years. Again the fog lifted just a bit, and I saw where I had turned in.

   The gate was closed. A padlock and chain were wrapped around its bars. Standing in front of it was the old man I had seen a few minutes ago on the trail. He wore the same sickening grin as before. A high metal fence surrounded the rest of the park; I had to leave through the gate.

   I marched towards the disgusting little gnome, my anger and frustration overwhelming the fear rising within me. "Unlock that gate, old man!" I shouted at him. "I’m getting out of here!" He made no move as I approached, just stood there, glaring at me. In his twisted fingers he dangled a set of keys. He held them out in front of himself, taunting me with them.

   I reached out to snatch them away. As I did he lunged forward, grabbing my right wrist. His grip was like a vise, and my hand turned pale as the blood flow was cut off. "What the Hell-" I cried. Then he twisted my arm, and I collapsed to my knees, shrieking as pain erupted from my fingers to my shoulder. I tried to hit him with my left fist, but the agony sapped my strength as shock spread through my body.

   "Come, brothers!" I heard him cry, as I fought to keep from blacking out. How could he be so damn strong? I wondered. Desperately my free hand felt the ground, trying to find some sort of weapon.

   I could hear footsteps approaching from a distance. When I glanced up I saw them. And my blood froze in my veins.

   Coming out of the fog were dozens of short, twisted figures, each as hideous and misshapen as the fiend who held me prisoner. They approached steadily, taking stumbling, uneven steps. A low pitched groaning issued out of their cracked and broken lips.

   Then the fingers of my free hand touched a stone lying nearby. I pitched it as hard as I could, and it collided with the side of my captor’s head. Howling furiously, he relaxed his grip on me. I tore free of him and got to my feet. I felt one of the creatures touch my jacket as I escaped. A moment more and they would have been on me.

   I ran through the park. The haze grew thicker with every step I took, and within seconds I couldn't see in front of me at all. My arm still burned with pain. Behind me I heard the wailing of the things as they pursued me. My lungs burned with every breath; I was near exhaustion. I had no idea where I was going. I just knew I had to get away.

   Then my left foot hit something. Falling forward, my head crashed into the hard, rocky ground. Thick, warm blood shot out of my nostrils. Pain shot through my skull. My nose was broken.

   Getting to my feet, I staggered a few more yards, and then collapsed. My mind clouded over as I succumbed to fatigue and pain. Let them come, I thought to myself. Let those monsters catch up with me and end this nightmare.

   "John?" I heard a female voice say my name from ahead. "Karen?" I called out. "Yes, darling," the sweet, melodious tone replied. "It is I. Come to me."

   "Karen, honey," I responded, "I can’t. I’m hurt, and there are horrible things chasing me." There was silence for a second or two, and then she answered. "Yes you can, dearest one. You're so close to me now. Come to me. You will never be lonely or afraid again."

   My fear melted away after she spoke, and I stood to my feet. Gathering my strength, I limped forward. I was filled with joy. She was there, my soul mate, my beloved, the one I had driven so far and endured so much to meet.

   The fog thinned as I approached her, and I saw her standing near a large tree. She was more beautiful than I had ever imagined. I could only tell what she looked like from the waist up; the rest was concealed by mist. Her hair was long and golden, shimmering even in the haze that surrounded her. Her eyes met mine, and my heart raced as I saw her delicate face aglow with a welcoming smile. She held the bouquet I had bought for her.

   In the back of my head a warning cry was shouting at me. Part of me listened; the situation was so bizarre, and how could she have the flowers? But I pushed ahead, ignoring it.

   As I neared her I reached out, longing to hold her. She opened her delicate, feminine arms to embrace me. As she did I heard the footsteps from behind.

   I was almost to her when I saw the silky strands, woven from the ground to the trees in an intricate pattern. I hesitated, the admonition from the recesses of my mind louder than ever. I started to turn away.

   Then the creatures shoved me forward, and I stumbled into the strong, sticky web I had seen seconds before. I clung to it like an insect to fly paper, my limbs immobilized.

   Karen stood in front of me, just on the other side of the barrier. I longed to say her name, but my throat filled with a cold, thick liquid that oozed out of my mouth. She reached towards me, and I saw the stinger in her palm just before it touched my cheek, breaking the skin. My face felt like it had been set on fire as her poison seeped into my veins. I tried to scream a moment later, when the fog parted, and I saw what she really was. But it had already paralyzed my throat muscles.

***

   She has been feeding on me for a week now. My body has deteriorated into a wrinkled, bent shell, and my mind is almost gone. On each side of me, entrapped by the web, are the others she has lured into her trap over the years. They are the creatures who herded me towards her. She has drained them almost completely, leaving just enough life force in them to do her bidding.

   And I'm becoming one of them. Even now the venom is eating at my brain, eroding my sense of identity, my memories and will power. I am her food, and will soon be her slave.

   Recalling the letter she wrote to me, I can’t help but smile, thinking that she told the truth about one thing.

   Her legs are quite beautiful.

   All eight of them.

©2003 Bill Wilson