Heart of the Mountain
Copyright© 2026 by WittyUserName
Chapter 12
Horror Sex Story: Chapter 12 - The awakening of something ancient. Tragedy, horror, and romance mix. Will there be a happy ending?
Caution: This Horror Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic Fiction Horror Paranormal
~Thursday 16 July, 2026~
10:23 AM
The monster had a name now. Several of them, apparently. Not including “The Thing in the Mountain” and “Gerald.”
Mike sat on his couch with a mug of coffee while a man three states away spoke to a news anchor. The man was insisting that the thing living on Deer Ridge was almost certainly Bigfoot. He’d written four books on the subject, which apparently made him an expert.
“The Adirondack region has a long history of reported sightings,” the author said from a little box in the corner of the screen. “What makes the Deer Ridge case particularly interesting is the reported vocalization. This clicking sound witnesses have reported is unusual, but certainly not inconsistent with an undiscovered primate species.”
He took a sip of coffee.
The anchor nodded seriously, as if the author wasn’t completely crazy. “And what about reports that the animal may have killed as many as eight people?”
“That’s something authorities will have to determine. But if this is a previously undocumented species, particularly one that’s highly territorial-”
Mike changed the channel.
A woman stood outside the sheriff’s department. Behind her, two news vans occupied spaces that normally belonged to deputies.
“-officials continue to urge the public to stay away from the Deer Ridge area, which remains closed following Saturday’s deadly attack on a four-person search team.”
He changed the channel again.
“-online communities have dubbed the unidentified creature the Deer Ridge Monster-”
Again.
“-some have suggested an escaped exotic animal, while others point to-”
Again.
A daytime talk show. Good enough. Mike set the remote down. Then for approximately fifteen seconds, nobody mentioned Deer Ridge. Until one of the hosts leaned toward the camera.
“Coming up after the break, we’re going to talk about the mystery gripping upstate New York. Multiple attacks, eight people dead or missing, and two seriously injured. Witnesses describe something authorities can’t identify. What is really happening on Deer Ridge?”
Mike shut the television off, causing silence to fill the apartment. With a long sigh, he leaned back and closed his eyes. Five days. That was all it took. People who had never met Eric Walsh were analyzing his final radio transmission. Enough of it had gotten out that the clicking sound had become public knowledge. It could have come from someone in dispatch, one of the responding agencies, or somebody who’d been monitoring law enforcement frequencies.
Or perhaps some of the information came from Chloe Whitaker. It seemed every reporter in the country had gotten her name and was trying to get an interview. The poor girl had watched her friends die and was still injured, yet they just saw a story. Olivia’s parents had actually gone on television themselves, saying they just wanted to know for sure what had happened to their daughter.
Things were getting out of hand. Someone else had leaked that the lab couldn’t identify a blood sample that supposedly belonged to the creature. Most people were convinced there was a reasonable explanation, but there were definitely plenty of people who insisted it was something unknown, something unnatural.
Sheriff Harper was furious. Once word was out, it was out. By Monday, people online were enhancing audio clips and drawing spectrograms. By Tuesday, someone had posted a map supposedly showing the creature’s hunting grounds. It wasn’t even close. Everyone was speculating about what sort of creature it was, and Mike had heard some truly strange guesses. Bigfoot made some sense, but everyone knew the chupacabra only preyed on livestock.
Yesterday, Mike had seen an advertisement for a t-shirt. “I SURVIVED THE DEER RIDGE MONSTER.” It even came with free shipping.
Mike had stared at the listing until Amber quietly took the phone out of his hand. Yesterday had been bad enough without the ridiculous display of capitalism. Eric’s funeral had been Wednesday morning. Mike could still see the flag. It was what he kept going back to. Not the casket, the line of uniforms, or the people filling every available seat.
The flag had been folded with slow, precise movements by professionals who had done it countless times before. Sheriff Harper had stood in silent respect for their fallen friend. Amber had been there too. She’d asked first, and Mike agreed. He’d been especially grateful for her presence when he’d watched Eric’s family receive the folded flag.
Physically, Mike was doing better. His bruises had faded from deep purple to an ugly yellow-green. Most of the pain was gone. The coffee table, however, painted a less optimistic image of his mental state. There were empty water bottles, yesterday’s funeral program, and a plate with the remains of toast he’d made three hours ago.
A coffee mug belonging to Amber sat on the other side of the coffee table. She’d left it Tuesday. Or Monday. Mike wasn’t sure. He’d seen her every day. Amber seemed to know when he wanted company and when he needed to be left alone. She brought food, asked how he was doing, and didn’t believe him when he said he was fine. Yet, she didn’t call him on it. She didn’t mention the stones or the monster. She just supported him.
There was nothing he could have done, but Mike still hated that he’d been relaxing with Amber while his friend was getting killed. Maria Rodriguez had been an experienced Environmental Conservation Police Officer. Armed and well trained. Sam Haloon had spent years leading search and rescue teams. Marcus Smith knew technical rescue better than Mike ever would.
They hadn’t been amateurs who wandered onto the mountain looking for trouble. Eric had followed Mike’s advice, ordering a retreat as soon as he heard the clicking. It hadn’t mattered. Maria was dead, Sam was dead, and Eric was dead. Marcus was still alive. The last Mike heard put Marcus in critical condition. He’d undergone two surgeries since Saturday.
All four of them had been recovered, along with a large amount of that thick, dark blood. Some were suggesting the creature didn’t take the bodies because another team had arrived so quickly. Mike thought differently. Eric and Maria hadn’t gone down without a fight. They’d hurt it. Badly.
Mike stared at the blank television and saw his unshaven face reflected in it. He needed to wash his hair, too. He looked like shit. Eric would have told him. Probably after taking a picture and threatening to send it to Amber. Just as he was thinking that, Mike’s phone rang.
“Yeah?” Mike answered.
“Morning,” Sheriff Harper replied. “How are you doing?”
“Fine.”
“Bullshit,” Dan grunted.
“If you knew that, why’d you ask?” Mike asked lightly.
“Manners. I have those,” Harper replied smoothly. “Anyway, I need you at the station.”
Mike sat up straight. “What happened?”
“Nothing, no one’s hurt or anything,” Dan quickly reassured him. “Stein called.”
“When?”
“About twenty minutes ago,” Harper answered. “She wants to go over the additional blood results. She finished processing the newest samples.”
“What did she find?” Mike asked, unable to imagine what he’d seen was a creature science had cataloged.
“Don’t know yet,” Dan replied. “She’ll tell us at the meeting.”
Mike stood. “I’m on my way.”
2:14 PM
Amber was halfway through labeling another photograph when there was a knock at her door. She glanced toward it, then at the clock in the corner of her laptop. A wince crossed her face when she realized she’d forgotten to eat again. Additionally, the apartment she’d cleaned to impress Mike had once again fallen into complete and utter chaos.
Photographs covered half the dining table, with her notebook sitting open beside them. Sketches of the seven stones and the markings covering them were scattered about. Books were stacked on chairs and a few of them were open to random pages on the table. Nothing had given her an answer.
The knock came again.
“Coming!”
She pushed her thin-frame glasses higher on her nose and stood. Stepping around the collection of books she’d accumulated beside the table over the last several days, Amber made her way through the apartment. Somehow, another pair of skimpy underwear had found its way onto the floor. She snatched it and shoved it in her pocket before reaching the door and opening it.
Mike stood in the hallway, looking better than he had yesterday. He’d showered and shaved the beard he’d accumulated over the last several days. Wearing simple jeans and a green t-shirt, he looked almost like himself. The bruising along his face had faded, although there was still a little yellow near his jaw.
“Hey,” he said quietly.
“Come in,” Amber stepped aside. “You know, you could have called.”
Mike smirked as he entered the apartment. “You would have needed more than my commute time to clean.”
“Fuck you,” she grunted, closing the door behind him.
“This isn’t our third date; we haven’t even had our second,” he chuckled.
“I don’t recall promising anything, sir,” Amber giggled, happy he seemed in a decent mood.
“I seem to remember you mentioning a sexy librarian outfit,” Mike replied as they walked into her kitchen.
“You sure that wasn’t in your dreams?” she teased.
“Dreams of you? I may have a few of those,” he admitted, making her blush pink.
Amber watched him carefully while making coffee. She’d been going to his apartment all week, wanting him to be as comfortable as possible. Sunday she’d brought him dinner, Monday Sheriff Harper had chased Mike out of the station and forced him to relax. Amber had spent most of Tuesday evening at his apartment, then yesterday had been Eric’s funeral.
Making room on the dining table, Amber and Mike sat together and sipped on their coffees. She could tell he wanted to talk, and Amber was happy to give him time until he felt ready to broach the topic. Mike had told his sister about the attack, which Amber felt was the right move.
“We had a meeting with Doctor Stein,” Mike suddenly said.
She slowly lowered her mug. “The blood?”
“Yeah, Stein is with the forensic lab,” he nodded.
“And?”
Mike was looking down at a photograph that showed the clearing from the northern edge. He reached out and picked it up, his eyes trailing over the seven stones. Amber waited patiently, wondering if there was finally an explanation, an answer about what had killed multiple people.
“Still nothing,” Mike finally sighed.
Amber frowned. “What does that mean?”
“They processed the blood from Saturday. A lot more of it than we had before,” he explained.
“The blood Maria and Eric...?”
“Yes,” Mike confirmed. “Same basic result. Biological. Nonhuman. Vertebrate. They compared it against the samples from the swimming hole and the ones from Friday.”
“The blood you got on you?” Amber asked.
Mike nodded. “Consistent.”
“It all came from the same thing?” she questioned.
“Definitely the same species,” he let out a breath. “Stein can’t say same individual, but most likely.”
Amber folded her arms. “And they still can’t identify it?”
“Nope.”
Amber looked toward the photographs. The academically reckless part of her wanted to be excited, but she pushed that down. People were dead. One was still fighting to stay alive, and a teenage girl was permanently scarred after watching her friends being killed. Whatever the blood belonged to had stopped being an interesting mystery a long time ago.
“Did the doctor give you anything?” she asked.
“Same as before,” Mike sighed. “Unidentified isn’t the same as unknown, databases aren’t complete, could be something exotic.”
“She isn’t wrong,” Amber reasoned.
“I know,” he sighed. “They have to do more tests to confirm or eliminate those possibilities.”
“What did Harper say?” she wondered.
“That we keep investigating. Carefully,” Mike added.
“But you’re here,” Amber pointed out.
He shrugged. “You’re prettier than Harper.”
A small smile crossed her face. “Mike.”
“And you’ve been investigating too,” Mike gestured to the table, then saw the huge stack of books on the chair. “A lot.”
“Stone formations didn’t attack those people,” she said slowly.
Mike picked up her notebook, the one open to the drawing that had the phrase “Why inward?” scrawled in several places. She didn’t say anything as he examined the drawing of the clearing. At first, she thought he had wanted to discuss what he was feeling. Now Amber suspected there was something else.
Lifting his head, he looked at her. “I saw it.”
“Friday? You told me,” she replied slowly.
“No,” he shook his head. “I told you what it looked like.” Mike glanced toward the window. “I’ve spent nearly a week trying to convince myself my eyes were wrong.”
She stayed quiet.
“Shock. Adrenaline. Head injury. Some animal I didn’t recognize,” he continued. “Or maybe some weird skin condition. More excuses.”
“You were hit after you saw it,” Amber pointed out. “Eric and the others saw something too, and you told me what Chloe said.”
“I know,” he nodded slowly as he looked over the table. “I know these woods. I know all the animals and how they act. This wasn’t any of them.”
Her pulse quickened. “Then what was it?”
“It had hands, Amber,” Mike said quietly before turning to face her again. “It looked at me. It clicked while I was looking right at it. I watched it move on two legs and then four. I saw it climb a sheer granite cliff.”
Amber swallowed weakly.
“Then Eric went back there,” Mike’s jaw tightened.
“You didn’t send him,” she pointed out, reaching across the table to place her hand on his.
“I could have been more open about what it was, that it wasn’t natural,” he shook his head. “Instead I told myself I had to have been mistaken. Then I was laughing at that stupid fucking movie while he was-”
“No,” Amber stated firmly. “This is not your fault.”
“You can’t decide-”
“I can decide whether you use me as part of the reason to blame yourself,” she said in a stern voice. “You were with me. So if you’re doing this to yourself, you’re making me a part of it too.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he said quickly.
“I know,” Amber softened her voice. “You wanted to go, but Harper wouldn’t let you. You warned Eric.”
“I should’ve-”
“You warned him,” she squeezed his hand.
Mike closed his eyes and let out a breath before opening them slowly. “I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize to me,” Amber insisted.
“I spilled beer on your dress yesterday.”
“That you did have to apologize for,” she smirked. “Separate issue.”
He laughed lightly, before gesturing toward her work again. “What have you found?”
Amber looked at him with interest. “You actually want to know?”
“I’m not planning on a career change, but I’m interested in what you do,” Mike smiled.
“That’s not what I meant,” she shook her head. “I mean, why are you asking?”
“From the beginning, you knew the clearing was important,” he said slowly. “Every other avenue has produced nothing. Maybe we do need to look closer at those stones.”
“The stones didn’t attack people,” Amber said again.
“No, they don’t,” Mike agreed. “But the blood didn’t give us an answer.”
“The doctor could identify it tomorrow,” she argued.
“She won’t,” he said quietly. “It’s something unnatural.”
“Something being unidentified doesn’t make it supernatural,” Amber countered.