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Author's Note - if you do not like bondage, fem-dom, meaningless lesbian sex, or unrealistic science-fiction scenes in TG stories, then I recommend that you skip this story. Also, this story is lengthy, wordy, and slow at times (unfortunately, I don't have as much time to write as I would like and I'm not a good editor, so the finished product is NEVER as good as I would like it to be) so, don't read it unless you have a lot of time on your hands. I usually like to move things along faster in my stories, but I wanted to try something different with this story: I really wanted to give the readers time to identify with the characters.

I have almost completed the entire story and I intend to release it in five 20-page chapters. Typically, I like to release the entire story all at once, but in this case, I think the story would be way too long (I'm also still finishing the last chapter and editing three and four). One of the main purposes of this five-chapter story is to provide the initial background for Tioga; a place I plan to force my characters to visit in many new stories in the future. I've already started a few new Tioga stories which are faster paced and shorter. The new Tioga stories are completely fetish/bondage oriented and involve more bondage, manipulation, and domination. These stories are primarily written for those gender-dysphoric individuals (who want to be women or are on their way to becoming women) and transgendered individuals who are into bondage and identify with the submissive female role. I hope other readers may find a little something in this story that they like. For those of you who do not like these types of stories, I am currently working on two non-bondage, non-violent stories which you might like.

The name "Trickstress" is borrowed from a chess-player on MSN who gave me permission to use the name. Everything else in the story is completely fiction (with the exception of one reference to Eric Stanton).

The disparaging references to the "local yocals" in the story (particularly Dave's judgmental mentality regarding them) are not meant to be offensive–I don't share all the beliefs and values of my characters. The remarks are simply meant to show that the main characters are slightly ignorant, immature, or snobby.

I would like to thank all of the writers who submit stories to Storysite and Fictionmania: all of you help me in so many ways and on so many different levels. I love reading other author's stories and learning from them, whether they are love stories, g-rated stories, science fiction, or stories which are mostly sexual. A special thanks goes out to Denver, the author of Tabor. Tabor was the sole inspiration for this story and helped put the fun back into my writing.

Jodie  xoxo

 

The Inner Realm Of Tioga

by Jodie Anderson

 

Justin, Dave, and Leslie met during their first year of law school at a small school in upstate New York. Justin and Dave were horrible students and barely managed to make it through the first year. Leslie, on the other hand, was an above-average student and very analytical.

During the early summer of 2000, Justin and Dave decided to drop out of law school and move to the west coast. Dave had inherited a heap of money and Justin had a gifted understanding of business. The two decided to team up and planned on starting an Internet mail-order store in Oregon--San Francisco was just too expensive. They decided to rent a beach house and hang around Martha's Vineyard for the summer before leaving for the west coast.

While his two friends lived it up on the beach, Leslie slaved away in a law firm. He hated it after the first week. Toward the end of the summer, just a few days before the second year of law school was going to begin, he started to seriously question whether the legal profession was right for him. One day, on in impulsive whim, he quit his job and headed to Martha's Vineyard to meet Justin and Dave for a few days. When he told them he was going to drop out of law school, they invited him to go into business with them. Leslie declined the offer, but asked if he could tag along on their trip out West--he had always wanted to see the West. Justin and Dave agreed: they were thrilled to have a third driver and someone else to party with.

Young, jobless, and financially secure, the three young men decided to drive across the United States and see the entire country--well, the fun parts anyway--before settling down in the West. They all liked the outdoors--Justin and Dave significantly more than Leslie--so they decided they would take their time, camp, fish, read (excluding Dave), write (Leslie only), go through small towns, hunt through record stores, and drink in the taverns on their trip.

It took the three young men a little longer than they expected to sell their furniture and prepare for the move, but by early September, they had everything taken care of. They decided to spend some time in the Adirondacks and then planned on following the mountains south, through Pennsylvania into Virginia. They planned on going to Washington, D.C. for a couple of days, then down the east coast to Florida, and over to New Orleans. From there, the plan was to travel up the Mississippi River through the middle of the country and then follow the Missouri to the Northwest, like Lewis and Clark had done 200 years earlier. On September 30, 2003, they started off. After a week of hiking, fishing, biking, and camping in the Adirondacks, Justin, Dave, and Leslie traveled south and crossed the border into Pennsylvania. The area was beautiful and teaming with tall trees, trickling streams, thick forests, and rolling mountains. They almost never stopped in Canton...almost, but as fate would have it, they did.

 

PART II

They were on the highway in Dave's Jeep Cherokee. Leslie had been hungry all morning but he didn't know why: he had eaten a large breakfast. Leslie asked Dave to stop once, asked Dave to stop again about a half-hour later, and then, when his stomach was practically growling like a bear, he begged Dave to stop. They pulled off the highway, followed a two-lane road for a few miles, and then stopped in Canton. They found an old, rustic tavern and sat down for lunch and a few beers. They talked about law school and how ecstatic they felt about dropping out. They reminisced about the stress and hassles of the first year of law school and talked about the different personality types they had met at the school. After a couple of beers, they were laughing and having a great time. The time snuck by quickly, as it often does. Justin, Dave, and Leslie didn't notice as the regulars began to roll into the tavern, and before they realized it, the daylight was almost gone.

Just as it was getting dark, Dave and Justin went to use the bathroom. When they returned, Leslie was sitting with a group of locals at a large, round, wooden table in the back of the tavern. Dave spotted him quickly.

"He'll talk to anybody won't he?" Dave asked Justin shaking his head mildly annoyed. Dave was a really good-looking guy, he was tall, about 6'1, had short light brown hair, and a chiseled face; unfortunately, he was also a womanizer (even though he was only 24, he had already broken up one marriage) and was practically obsessed with women and sex. Dave was a guy's guy; he loved sports, was athletic, muscular but not huge, strong, and somewhat crude but not as much as a typical "jock." He loved anything physical and hated to read. He was of average intelligence but he was a great judge of character; he could practically size a person up based on looks alone within seconds. He was slightly cocky and standoffish, but once you got to know him, he treated you like you were his best friend.

"He's good-hearted like that," Justin replied, referring to Leslie. Justin was also good-looking, but he had longer hair (it was half-way down to his shoulders) and more of a boyish face--younger girls and women loved him. At 26, he was a man of many talents and tastes. He was intelligent but not quite a genius. As a boy he had developed a fascination with business. He liked to read, was talented with computers, loved the outdoors, loved sports, and was somewhat competitive. He also loved chess, but, like many chess-players, thought he was much better than he actually was. Like Dave, Justin was also practically obsessed with sex.

Leslie motioned Justin and Dave over to the table. Sitting around the table, were several locals of all different ages. Most of them appeared to be blue-collar types and rough around the edges. Most of them were also smoking and contributing to the large cloud that hung a few feet over the table like a thick tapestry. One of the locals, an older grey-haired man who appeared to be in his late sixties, was talking loudly in a raspy, smoker's voice. He stopped his story for a moment when he saw Justin and Dave standing by the table.

"Welcome to the Round Table of Canton gentlemen! Here the wisemen of Canton...and the surrounding areas...discuss every subject under the sun; booze, politics, local tales and legends, music, sports, fishing, TV....and of course, war and women...our favorite two subjects!" He laughed heartily. "Please, pull up a chair," he said warmly.

Justin and Dave had not had much contact with blue-collar or poor country people so they were a little hesitant, but Leslie persuaded them to relax and sit down for a few minutes. Justin, Dave, and Leslie had been pampered their entire lives. Of the three, only Justin had ever held a steady job that wasn't an "internship." Despite being pampered, however, Leslie was much more well-rounded then his two companions. He was also different from them in other ways. He was intellectual, he loved novels and stories. He was also somewhat artsy, he liked to smoke pot, and he was intuitive. He was of average height, about 5'10, but skinny and cute in a feminine way. He was self-conscious about his effeminate look and feelings, so he tried to compensate in masculine ways (like forcing himself to camp when he really didn't like it that much). Almost every guy who ever met him liked him because he was not intimidating but also not wimpy, and was extremely friendly. At 23, he was the youngest of the group.

"As I was saying mah-boy," the older man said looking at Leslie, "I wouldn't go looking to camp round this area. You'd be better off stayin in town. There is a decent motel on Coleman Street."

"Really?" Leslie asked surprised. "I was just looking at a map and it looks like there is nothing but mountains, forests, creeks, and rivers to the west of Canton. I was thinking about trying to find a campsite somewhere around the Tioga River, or one of the other creeks in that area." A few of the locals stirred and glanced at each other at the mention of Tioga.

"No, no!" Said the old man, his smile leaving his face for the first time. "You want to stay away from that area, whatever ya do. If you're fixin to do sum campun, you should stay in Bradford County or go west of Morris Run. If I was you, I wouldn't even set foot anywhere in the eastern part of Tioga County if I didn't have to."

"Why?" Leslie asked with obvious curiosity.

"Well...I hate ta sound like a superstitious, ignorant old-timer....but legend has it that the ground in that area is spoiled."

"Spoiled? What do you mean?" Leslie asked, his curiosity growing. The old man took another quick puff on his pipe and cast a furtive glance around the bar, his eyes moving quickly and taking in everything. He exhaled slowly. His chair creaked as he leaned forward.

"Legend has it a ghost-witch roams those lands," he said in a low, hushed voice. "It's said to be haunted by the spirit of Alexandra Tioga...the strange young woman who lived alone deep in the forest...in the hidden mansion." When he said Alexandra, it sounded like "al-a-zondra."

"Hogwash!" One of the younger Round Table locals interrupted. "There aint no ghostwich up in dem woods," he laughed leaning back in his chair. He was wearing a dark jean jacket with matching pants; both were a tad too tight. "Hell Ted, there aint no point in scarin deez boys outta a little camp-un." He turned and looked at Leslie, "Don't listen to ole Ted...he's heard too many wives tales from that ole hag-of-a-wife who tricked him into marrying her!" Justin and Dave and a couple of the locals chuckled, but Ted and the others remained silent.

"Well sons, everyone's got to make his own decisions...and you're no different," old man Ted said looking annoyed at the interruption, "but if I was you, I would stay away." A stony silence fell over the entire table.

Leslie's curiosity was now at a zenith. He loved ghost stories and was absolutely thrilled by the old man's warnings and his genuine conviction about this Alexandra woman. Dave, on the other hand, was getting bored. He didn't have much of an imagination; besides God, he only believed in things he could observe with his senses. Justin wasn't paying attention at all, he was too busy watching a tall, sexy waitress--the only woman in the place--glide from table to table in her tight, stretch blue-jeans and clingy white top. Justin wondered if she was going to have sex tonight. 'Damn I love blonde hair,' he thought to himself.

Leslie was about to ask the old man another question when one of the other locals spoke up.

"It's true, there IS a witch up in them woods...and I reckon IT IS the spirit of Alexandra Tioga," he said in a low hollow voice with a bit of a southern draw. Everyone turned and looked at him--there was something about his voice that commanded attention, something very serious. Even Justin and Dave started to listen to the guy. "The name's Carl." He nodded. Unlike most of the other locals, he was clean-cut and decent looking. He appeared to be in his early forties. He was wearing a black and brown flannel shirt and jeans. He moved the toothpick in his mouth from one side to the other before he began speaking again.

"I saw her once. It was early afternoon...about 20 years ago...but I remember it as if it were a meal ago. I had just come to Canton and I was fishing by myself deep in the woods....several miles across the county line. I didn't know any better....then. I found a real dark quiet spot. I had a little cooler with me, and some cold beers. I had been at it for bout an hour....when I got this strange feeling that I was being watched. The feeling just came outta nowhere. I looked around but didn't see anything, just trees, birds, and the river. I figured it was nuttn...so I went back to my fishing. But that strange feeling stayed with me...I just KNEW that someone was watching me. I looked around again and again but I still didn't see nuttn. I tried to fish but it was no use, I didn't feel right. My mind started to wander and I was imagining that some sorta whack-job could be out in the woods. My rifle was in the truck so I decided I should get going. I reached down to pick up my beer and that's when I heard this loud hissing noise up crick. I looked up...and I SAW her." He took a deep breath and continued.

"She was bout 100 yards up-crick...partially hidden by some trees and bushes. She was starring right at me. My heart skipped a beat...and felt like an ice-cold hand was squeezing it. For a second I thought I was having a heart attack and that my motor was about to give way. Her dark eyes were starring right through me. She was pretty....but scary-looking just the same. Anyway...I started to feel cold and then my body completely froze up. I tried to wave to her but I couldn't raise my hands...I was probably too scarred. She was wearing all black, but her hair was as blonde as yours," he said pointing to Justin, "and was a few inches below her shoulders and a little curly, in a sexy sorta way--like she wanted something. She looked like she was in her late- twenties but it was hard to tell...cuz there was this spooky grey mist around her.

"She kept starring at me with her dark eyes. I tried to read her face...her emotions...but is was a blank stare, the perfect poker-face. Then I felt my head start to spin and my scalp started to tingle...I know this sounds crazy...but I felt something...well...in my head. It was like a little hand was picking through my mind, searching for something. I knew it was her...she was reading my thoughts; I could FEEL it! My vision became blurred and the light started to fade...everything grew dark, dark as night...and then I heard a woman's voice whisper to me. 'Come to the mansion...' it said. I focused all of my energy on moving my feet; I figured if I could get my feet to move I might be able to break away from her mysterious grasp. It didn't work and I felt completely paralyzed. The pressure was also still in my head....something continued to search my mind. After a few more minutes there was a loud hissing noise in my ears and the pressure left my mind instantly. My heart still felt icy cold and everything was completely pitch black, but the fog in my mind was clearing. After another few minutes I realized I could move again. At the same time, I realized that my eyes had been closed--although I couldn't remember ever closing them--and when I opened them, the strange woman was gone." He stopped talking for a minute and then resumed.

"It all seemed to happen so fast. It felt like only five minutes had passed since I first saw her. I looked down at my watch but is had stopped. I looked up at the sky and the sun was already setting. I had lost all sense of time...I figured I must have been sitting still for hours. My body ached and I felt really weak. I knew I had to get back to the truck; I was afraid that she might come back. I picked up my rod and grabbed my cooler and ran back to the truck. The whole time I felt like something was still watching me. Right when I got to the truck I heard another loud hissing noise. I didn't stop to look...I just started her up and took off." Everyone at the table was silent for a minute; the rest of the tavern was also eerily quiet. The wind howled outside and the lights flickered. A few of the Round Table locals looked around uneasily. Finally, the younger local with the jean jacket laughed out loud.

"Bullshit! You must have left out the part where you smoked enough pot to get high as a kite!" He shouted patting his buddy on the back. "Pot hallucinations...that's all it was! You were just paranoid!" He laughed hysterically. Justin and Leslie looked at each other and smiled; they both were about to bust out laughing but felt they should control themselves. They smoked pot on an occasional basis and had never experienced "pot hallucinations."

"I'll admit, I might have had a little somethin...but is wasn't enough to make me see things." Carl responded seriously. "I'm not lookin for attention--most of you know me well enough to know that...else you have rocks for brains--and if I was lookin for attention I wouldn't have settled down in this dang town. Actually, that day in the woods, I swore I would never tell no one bout what I had seen, but as the years went on, and I heard other people talk about some of the things they saw up in the woods....I decided to come clean. There was something evil bout that woman...something wrong and evil...something awfully dark. The way I figure it, I should at least try to warn a few people bout her." By the sound of Carl's voice alone, it became obvious to Leslie and Justin that he was completely serious and was not some hillbilly joking around. Moreover, none of the older, wiser-looking locals were laughing at Carl's story; it was clear that Carl's word was important to these people.

Another long period of silence ensued. Old-man-Ted saw this as an opportunity to take over the conversation again.

"And other folks have seen a few strange things over in them woods. Three high-school boys say they saw a big dark mansion in the middle of the forest. They said they was too scared to go in. Can't say that I blame them. It was probably the old Tioga Mansion...and it's probably run down somthin awful by now." He took another puff from his pipe. "That one boy...Eric Stanton...who used to sit around and draw women all the time. He used to fish up there in the woods. He went missing for a couple of days. Somehow, he made it back to town. He looked like hell. We asked him what happened and he refused to talk. He just said he got lost and found his way out of the forest...but it was clear to everyone that he was lying. Something bad happened to him up in them woods but he wouldn't tell nobody, and by the end of the month, he left Canton and moved back to New York. No one has seen em or heard from em ever since. Some people say that he became an artist of some sort...that he draws nothing but kinky smut. Weird stuff, like women taking charge and dressing their men in women's clothes." He thought for a second and continued.

"And there was that time the sheriff found that young woman....I think it was about five years ago. It was the dead of winter, and the sheriff was driving down Misty Hill Road when he saw a woman burst outta the trees screaming at the top of her lungs. She was dressed like a whore and her hands were handcuffed behind her back. She had no purse...no I.D....no coat...no nothin! She was babbling about some blonde-haired woman, a haunted house, and a spider. The sheriff questioned her for hours the next day but all she would say was that she was from Syracuse and wanted to go home." He stopped talking for a second and watched Justin and Leslie to see if they were impressed. They were. Old-man-Ted continued on.

"And just about everyone who goes up in them woods....those few folks every couple years who are dumb enough to try it....leaves something behind, gets strange feelings, or gets themselves lost." Leslie listened to the old man intently, he was on the edge of his seat.

"Who is this Alexandra woman you mentioned?" Leslie interjected. "Why do you think she is the ghost? Why would she want to haunt the woods?" Ted and Carl's eyes met. Carl nodded and Ted started talking again.

"In the early 1800s, the Tioga family moved to this area. They used to own a lumber mill....and a couple thousand acres in Bradford and Tioga counties. They built a mansion somewhere on the Tioga side of the county line...some of the old wives used to say that the ground underneath the mansion was enchanted and that's what drew the family to the area in the first place. The Tioga family had a different last name at first...but they were eccentric people...you know...weird....and they changed their family name...named themselves after a tribe of Indians that supposedly roamed these parts hundreds of years ago. I think the name means something like 'Two Rivers' in some old Indian language. Anywho...now, the family only owns about 200 or 250 acres deep in the woods in Tioga County; they sold the rest of the land off. In the early 1900s, there were only three of them left in the area. Robert Tioga...he was American but had a European background....married a beautiful older woman named Juanita. She was from Spain. He died during the battle of San Juan Hill. Anywho...they had a young pretty daughter, Alexandra, who was half American and half Spanish.

A 19th Century map of Tioga and Bradford Counties and the surrounding area. The Tioga family owned huge pieces of land north and east of Canton, Pennsylvania.

"Like I said before, the family was said to be eccentric. They had really strange parties and even stranger friends. It is said that Juanita had practiced witchcraft...and that she learned it in Spain. Alexandra took an interest in witchcraft as a young girl. The school kids were afraid of her...they complained that she played strange tricks on them. After the father died, Juanita remarried and brought a new husband into the mansion. The new man of the house and Alexandra didn't get along. Rumor has it that he was attracted to her...and that might be what led to the estrangement. If he was it's hard to blame em...she was supposedly tall...bout five leven they say...long legs...the body of a real woman--not like the thin twigs you see on teevee today--long blonde hair...and dark Spanish eyes."

"Eventually, the mother and husband moved out and left the young woman alone in the mansion in her mid-twenties. After that, the townspeople saw her less and less. She stopped coming into town and eventually she disappeared into the woods. The only way people even knew she was still around was that she would have her weird parties every year or so....but nobody from Bradford or Tioga County was invited. It was all outsiders...and mostly women." He lowered his voice again, "It was said that they was strange folks...and into strange sexual things....like you would see on Jerry Springer or something."

"The mansion was up in the hills, in the middle of a deep, dark forest...in total isolation. Only one road went to and from the old mansion. Back then, the place was kept up nicely. It was on a huge plot of land that had been cleared of all trees and brush. There's a picture of it over on the wall back there," he motioned to a little hallway near the bathroom. "No one really knows for certain if the house is still standing today. If it is still standing, no one can find it....on purpose anyway." The last phrase he muttered under his breath. Old-man-Ted took another swig from his mug; Carl picked up where Ted left off.

"Even though no one has seen or heard from the Tioga family in over 70 years, their legend still lives on. Some people in Canton are convinced that Alexandra is still lurking in the woods...following the streams...walking in the mountains...looking for townspeople to torment," Carl finished gravely. There was another long period of silence as every man at the table sifted through his own thoughts and tried to decide what he believed (some of them were scarred at the thought of walking home alone that night, but they would never admit it openly). Finally, a few of the locals stirred and got up to go home.

Leslie got up and went to the bathroom. On his way out he stopped to look at the picture of the Tioga Mansion on the wall in the hallway.

The Tioga Mansion in the early 1900s. Something about the picture gave Leslie an uneasy feeling.

 

Leslie turned away from it and was about to head back to the Round Table when he was overcome with a strange feeling that he was being watched. He looked around the tavern, but nobody was looking at him. He looked back at the picture but didn't see anything. Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw another picture: it was of an old picture of a large, beautiful ballroom and about 40 ornately dressed revelers, most of whom appeared to be women. Leslie stopped and inspected the picture more closely. The women were dressed in all sorts of costumes, some revealing, some sexy, and some elegant. After a minute, Leslie still felt like he was being watched. Just as he was turning away from the picture, he saw the face. It was smirking.

One of the women in the picture was seemed to be staring out at whoever took the photograph. No matter where Leslie seemed to stand, the face seemed to be looking at him, kind of like the Mona Lisa. It was a pretty face, but it also had a scary, evil look to it, like the woman

(knew something)

was about to hustle you at pool for thousands of dollars–or like she was about to do something much worse. Leslie was transfixed by the mysteriously beautiful face, but it didn't give him a good feeling at all. He shivered. Finally, he was able to tear himself away from the picture and join Justin and Dave.

Before they left the tavern, old-man-Ted gave Justin, Dave, and Leslie the name of a motel in town. The three young men wisely got a room and stayed indoors for the night.

*****

The next morning, they were up early. Dave suggested going fishing at one of the rivers or creeks in the nearby woods.

"Didn't you hear a thing that old guy said last night? And what that guy Carl said?" Justin asked in disbelief. He was hung-over and a little edgy. He had been spooked out by the locals' stories the night before.

"I don't believe in ghosts or any of that kind of crap." Dave fired back. "If anything funny is happening near the Tioga River...it's probably some young locals playing a bunch of tricks on the old geezers." He laughed. "Look, if it will make you happy, we can go to another creek or river...it looks like there are a couple of creeks up in the woods, we don't have to go to the Tioga River." Dave looked at Justin for an okay. Justin looked to Leslie to back him up.

Leslie was definitely the most cautious one in the group, but his curiosity was just killing him. He actually WANTED to go to the Tioga River. He loved a good ghost story and thought it would be neat to actually go to the site of one. He thought it would be nice to get high...back in the so-called "haunted woods"...and let his imagination wander a bit. It might give him some good ideas for his writing.

"Sorry chief," he shrugged, "I'm with Dave on this one. Besides, half the things those guys were saying were probably just bizarre coincidences that happened over the past 20 years. If you add up all the strange stories in ANY town over a 20-year period, and mix in a little town history, you're bound to come up with a spooky story. We'll be fine. So are you cool with it or what?"

"Come on...don't be a pussy!" Dave laughed giving Leslie a high-five. He was pleasantly surprised that Leslie was on his side for once.

"Okay, sure," Justin said, sounding slightly reluctant. But the more he thought about it, the less scared he was. Ten minutes later, they were in Dave's Jeep Grand Cherokee and riding out of town headed west toward Tioga County.

 

PART III

"This is the life!" Justin yelled as he pulled a bass out of the creek with a yank. It was their third day camping in the middle of the woods and everything had gone without incident. Justin, Dave, and Leslie had found a great camping spot a few hundred yards from the Tioga River, several miles into the woods, far from any main roads and even farther from the stresses of life.

After driving across the county line, they had followed a road that led northwest along a small creek. As luck would have it–or, as bad luck would have it–they had found a small one-lane dirt road barely large enough for the jeep. They had followed the road over the hills, deeper and deeper into the woods. In several spots, the road was nothing more than a couple of perpendicular tire tracks that cut through the grass.

The path rolled along beside the trees on the outskirts of the forest just before it turned to the left and cut back and headed directly into the darkness.

Finally, the road had stopped about a quarter-mile from the Tioga River. They had found a small clearing where they had set up camp. After setting up, they had found a quiet creek that branched off the river and started fishing.

The creek that they found was perfect for fishing: it was quiet and secluded.

 

"Yes indeedy!" Dave shouted to Justin from across the creek. He had a cold beer in one hand and his fishing-rod in the other. He looked up at the azure sky; it was riddled with large puffy cirrus clouds that blocked out the sun intermittently.

Leslie was sitting on the bank with a pad of paper and a pen in his hands. Justin and Leslie had just finished smoking a joint (Dave didn't smoke pot). Leslie was trying to think of something interesting to write but was drawing a blank and slowly dreaming the day away. A strong gust of fall wind blew through the forest rattling the boughs and causing the dry leaves on the ground to dance wildly. Leaves had been floating down around them throughout the day. Leslie closed his eyes and thought to himself, 'It's been a long time since I felt this relaxed.' The pressures of law school were finally becoming nothing more than a bad memory.

Leslie opened his eyes again and took in the beauty of the creek, the forest, and the hills with all his senses. 'This is so amazing! Why don't I do this all the time?' He thought to himself as he looked up and stared at the bright, crisp leaves; the colors were exquisite. He looked back toward the forest; it was so thick that the sunlight failed to reach the ground in most places, except along the creek and their camping spot. The hushed sounds of the forest were so relaxing, Leslie thought. Everything was so quiet; all he could hear was Justin and Dave, the birds, and the soft trickle of the Tioga River off in the distance. 'I need to make some changes in my life. I've really got to get back down to the basics. Happiness is all that matters, and being out here is really doing wonders for me. But what changes should I make....what would make me really happy all the time? I definitely need a change, but what should it be?' He rolled the thought over in his mind repetitively.

Leslie tried to focus on his writing but couldn't. His mind was simply wandering from one subject to the next: classic free association. He forced himself to write down any words and phrases that came into his mind and lingered. He thought of his beautiful surroundings, the road-trip, the West Coast...and then, out of nowhere, his mind turned (or rather "jumped") to what the locals at the Round Table had said about the Tioga River. Specifically, Leslie thought about what Carl had said about his experience in the woods and the strange woman in black who had apparently read his thoughts. "What a freaky story," Leslie muttered to himself. He exhaled slowly and closed his eyes again and stretched his arms out wide and then up above his head. The wind picked up; he could feel its tiny nip against his arms, his face, and his neck.

All of a sudden, Leslie felt like a pair of eyes was watching him. It was like the feeling he had had in the tavern a few nights before, but much, much stronger. He opened his eyes quickly and looked around. Nothing. "Must be the pot," he laughed, but the feeling didn't leave him. Goose-bumps popped up on his skin as his imagination ran wild with the endless possibilities (animals...locals watching him...stalkers....maybe even ghosts). He started thinking about what the old man at the bar, Ted, had said about the woods.

'Legend has it that the ground in that area is spoiled.' Leslie could hear old-man Ted's voice in his head as if he were sitting right over by the edge of the creek. Another gust of wind kicked up and Leslie shivered. He looked back into the forest again and started to notice how dark it was--the trees seemed to be closing in on him, reaching at him with their claw-like boughs. He was getting himself more than a little spooked. He moved a few steps away from the woods and out into the sunlight.

'Maybe there is something in these woods. Maybe it's that woman's ghost...what was her name? Maybe she's watching me right now,' Leslie's mind was leaping ahead of its internal checks and scarring him in the process. He stopped himself and shook away the over-creative thoughts with his will, but he could not get over the feeling that he was being watched. He leaned back and inhaled deeply, trying to clear his head. At the same moment, another gust of wind blew, carrying a sweet aroma to Leslie's nose. "Man....it smells so good in the forest," he thought. The sweet smell was faint at first, but the wind picked up and the smell grew stronger. His fear faded fast and he walked towards the smell; before he knew it he was at the edge of the woods. The smell was so comforting, almost hypnotic. Leslie inhaled deeply through his nose again. "That smells too sweet to be totally natural...that sure smells like...perfume...a lot of perfume." He stopped; he was at the edge of the trees, about to delve into the forest. The leaves swayed and hissed in the wind gently above him. He looked around again but still saw nothing except for Justin and Dave fishing on the creek. 'But how could there be perfume out here?' He thought. 'It's GOT to be my imagination...and the pot.' He smirked.

But the perfume smell grew stronger and stronger and began to contradict Leslie's thoughts and disprove his belief. The perfume was so strong....so powerfully musky yet sweet and sexy....so

(dominant)

inviting, that it could not be ignored. Leslie felt a presence next to him, as if someone was lurking in his shadow and coming even closer. He wheeled around wildly, turning 360 degrees. Again he saw nothing, but the feeling that something was there was even stronger! Now he was certain that someone or something was standing next to him. He could feel it breathing! Somehow, it felt like it was a woman. Leslie thought he felt long silky hair brushing against his arms and hands. He batted his arms at the air but nothing was there. Something soft brushed against his neck. He dropped the paper and pen he was holding in a flash and hurried toward Justin and Dave. 'I'm just high and paranoid....that's all,' his mind rationalized as he hurried out into the apparent safety of the sunlight.

"Hey Justin," Leslie yelled, his voice slightly unstable, "what was that girl's name? You know, the girl who grew up here, in the woods? Remember? The girl the locals were talking about last night. Her family owned land somewhere in these woods." Justin looked up from the creek for a second, his brow slightly crinkled. He thought for a second and then responded.

"I can't remember. What's up with you, you look nervous...are you freakin out?" Justin could tell that Leslie was frightened--Leslie had never been good at hiding his emotions. Leslie shrugged and Justin took that as a yes. "I should have warned you, the pot we smoked is a little strong," Justin laughed. "Quit your heavy thinking; pick up a rod and relax."

"Yeah, good idea," Leslie muttered. He grabbed Dave's extra rod and walked over to the bank. He sat down on the bank and felt better almost instantly. The feeling that someone was watching him left him quickly and completely. He inhaled deeply to test the air and the perfume smell was gone too. "This pot is some really strong shit Justin," he laughed.

"You guys really oughta cutt back on that hippy lettuce!" Dave interjected seriously. Justin and Leslie looked at each other and burst out laughing. Dave joined in.

Leslie's notebook sat on the ground where he had dropped it. At the bottom of the first page, there a sentence was written in cursive handwriting. It read, "Come to the mansion. A.T." A gentle breeze blew the pages over, hiding the message.

****

Late in the afternoon a weather front began to creep in from the West. The winds picked up slightly and low-lying rain clouds rolled in. Justin, Dave, and Leslie were cooking their dinner over an open fire. They had been debating whether they should pack up and move on. Dave and Justin wanted to stay while Leslie, for obvious reasons, had serious reservations. Leslie was trying to get a weather report from the radio, but nothing was coming through on either the FM or AM band.

"We should really get a weather report before we decide to stay here tonight," Leslie said looking up at the sky which was steadily becoming more overcast. The small pockets of blue were retreating to the West, giving way to a dark grey.

"We'll be fine...it won't be a big deal at all," Dave responded sounding annoyed. He finished his beer and put the can in a plastic bag.

"Typical Dave response," Leslie retorted.

"He's right Dave, we'll be miserable if we get caught in a really bad storm out here. Someone should go to the Jeep and try to get a weather report," Justin stated.

"I'll do it!" Dave volunteered abruptly. He was determined to keep camping for another few days. Whatever the weather report said--barring a tornado warning--Dave would tell Leslie and Justin that it was only going to rain lightly. Before Leslie could object Dave had jumped up and started the half-mile hike to the jeep.

Justin poked around in his backpack for a minute and pulled out another joint. Lifting it in the air he said, "what do you say Leslie? Are you up for a fatty?"

Leslie shrugged. "I guess I'm up for a hit or two...but I'm not trying to finish that thing. I smoked too much of the last one and freaked out a little," he laughed. "Besides, Dave will give us a bunch of crap if we're too wasted." Justin lit up the joint and passed it to Leslie. It started to rain lightly as they were smoking.

Justin and Leslie moved their tents into the forest for better protection. The trees were so close together that very few of the raindrops were hitting them directly. The sound of the raindrops hitting the leaves created a soothing sound; it was perfect sleeping weather. Leslie picked up his notepad, sat down in the opening of his tent, and thought about writing something. Nothing was coming to him. He flipped through the pages of the notebook and buzzed his lips. All the sudden, his heart felt ice cold. He noticed that someone had written a sentence in the notebook. "Come to the mansion. A.T." It read.

'WHO wrote that??' He thought staring at the paper in a trance. He broke his gaze off and quickly scanned his surroundings. Everything seemed to have a different feel to it now that it was raining. The forest seemed darker somehow, more secretive, more creepy. 'Where the hell am I?' He thought to himself. 'Who knows what could be out here.' His creative mind was taking off on him again; nevertheless, he brought himself back to reality quickly. "It was probably Dave playing a stupid trick on me," he tried to reassure himself, but for some reason, neither his mind nor his body felt reassured. "I was seriously high off that pot....maybe I wrote those words and forgot." He looked at the writing again and could not help but notice that it was written in a neat, almost pretty cursive. 'This was definitely written by a woman,' he thought. His stomach started to feel queasy. One by one his mind piled up the strange feelings that he had had over the past few days, starting with the conversation at the Round Table; the thoughts weighed heavily on his mind.

"Do you think these woods could be haunted?" Justin asked Leslie, his face appearing out of the growing darkness. Leslie jumped; Justin's timing couldn't have been any worse.

"Why do you ask?" Leslie responded nervously. His heart was pounding; he was beyond scarred.

"Don't laugh at what I'm about to say, but I've had some strange feelings ever since we came into these woods. Yesterday, when I was getting wood, I had the strangest sense that I was being watched. And last night, I had this bizarre dream about a beautiful blonde-haired woman...who...was..well...without getting into too much detail...she was doing strange things to me."

"I haven't had any strange dreams, but I got the feeling that something was stalking me this afternoon," Leslie responded quickly, happy to get things off his chest. "And I found some strange writing in my note pad." He handed the note pad to Justin. "You didn't do this did you man?" He asked, handing the notepad to Justin.

"No way dude...jokes aren't my thing. It could have been Dave...but his handwriting probably isn't this good...I mean really....this had to have been written by a woman....and look at the style....that style is old....who writes like that? And I doubt that Dave is imaginative enough to have asked a woman in town to write this for him. Even if he did, who can write in that type of cursive? That's so freakin weird!" Justin said shivering. He flipped through the pages in the notebook and came across a drawing. He started to smile. "I didn't know you could draw Leslie."

"Draw? I can't draw. Why did you say that?" Leslie asked, completely bewildered.

"You know...the sexy chick you drew in the notebook."

"What sexy chick? What are you talking about?"

Justin shrugged and handed Leslie the notebook. Leslie looked at the picture. It was a close-up sketch of a woman in lingerie. She appeared to be wearing stockings, panties, garters, and a corset. The picture only showed a portion of her body, from the lower stomach to the mid-thigh.

"If you don't mind me asking, why didn't you draw the rest of her? And what do the words at the bottom of the page mean?" Justin inquired. Leslie looked down at the bottom of the page and saw another message written in the same cursive handwriting. It said: "Changes? You want changes? I've got some ideas for you Leslie. How is this for starters?"

The message on the sketch was written in a   strange, somewhat artistic form of cursive.

 

"I didn't draw this," Leslie whispered. His mouth was dry and his knees felt weak. He sat down. He tried to make sense of the drawing but couldn't. "What the hell does that message mean?" He wondered. He looked over at Justin, hoping he would come up with an answer.

"Look, Leslie, don't worry about it. It's probably one of the locals playing a trick on us. Someone probably went through your stuff while we were sleeping last night or the night before." He looked up at the dark sky; the rain was falling somewhat harder. He paused for a few seconds and concluded: "That's it. We're out of here tomorrow morning. We'll tell Dave when he gets back!" Leslie looked relieved: he was more than ready to leave Tioga.

"I wonder if Dave's seen or heard anything. We'll have to ask him when he gets back. In either case, maybe we should leave tonight. I've got a really bad feeling about being out here now. Besides, nobody really knows we're here," Leslie said.

"I'm sure Dave won't go for it. Besides, nothing really bad has happened for three days...so I doubt anything will happen tonight. We'll be fine till morning," Justin responded.

"Well, I guess you're right...about Dave not going for it that is. I'm not so sure that everything will be fine...but I'm not going to keep hassling you about it," Leslie finished. Then, as an afterthought, "But you've got to promise me that you will convince Dave to leave tomorrow morning."

"I will. Now lets make the most of our last night here." Justin cracked open another beer and tossed a can to Leslie.

****

Dave was in the Jeep and driving down the dirt road back toward town. No stations were coming in on the radio. He was trying to find a clearing in the forest so he could get a weather report. The least he could do for Justin and Leslie was to make sure a dangerous storm wasn't coming. After about 20 minutes of driving he got to a clearing and the radio cleared up. He stopped the Jeep and waited for the song to finish. A few seconds later the song was interrupted by an emergency weather bulletin.

"Strong storms are expected to move through Tioga and Bradford Counties this evening. The storms will produce hail and strong winds and may be life-threatening. Heavy rain is expected for the next 48 hours."

"Perrrrrr FICT! Just perrrrr FICT!" Dave practically shouted turning the Jeep around. He started heading back to the camp. "We'll just move into the woods for the night and then leave in the morning. It's fun camping in the rain if you're already set up!" He thought as he flew down the road.

Thirty minutes later Dave came up on a fork in the dirt road. He stopped the Jeep. "This wasn't here before. I must have passed by my parking spot...I should have reached it by now." He had marked his spot with bright orange triangles when he left. Needless to say, he hadn't seen the triangles on his way back. He reversed directions once again. Three miles later he came to another fork in the road. "Which f-in way did I come from? Damn...I only had three beers...what is WRONG with me?" He said annoyed with himself. 'I could end up driving around all night and not finding my way back if I keep this up. Screw it, I should park the jeep. I know I'm close to the camp. I bet I can find the river if I get out and listen for it. I can follow it upstream to the camp. I better hurry though...it's getting dark,' he thought. Impulsive as always, Dave parked the Jeep, got out, and listened for the river. He put on his raincoat and headed off toward the Tioga River.

****

"Leslie, I've really got to take a whizz," Justin said.

"Can't you just wait until Dave gets back? He's been gone for over two hours. I don't think we should separate," he said quietly. He was worried that something had happened to Dave. He was also painfully aware that the jeep was their only way out of this forest.

"I'm not going far. Trust me. I'm as spooked out as you are. I'll be back in a minute." Justin got up and walked toward the river.

"Yeah, Dave said something like that too. And who knows where he is." Leslie thought.

****

Justin took care of business and was about to return to the camp when he realized that he could no longer see the campfire. It had become almost pitch black out. The rain was coming down really hard now, but the trees were still providing considerable protection. He looked around in every direction but couldn't see the fire. "I'm pretty sure I came from that way..." he said to himself pointing to his right. He walked about 50 yards toward where he thought the camp was. Nothing. "Wait...I shouldn't be wandering around blindly....I'll get lost. I should just yell to Leslie," he called out for Leslie but his voice didn't carry, the sound from the rain was drowning it out. "Leslie....where are you?" He yelled. No response. He waited for several minutes and then started yelling again. No response. He shivered in the cool air and looked up at the sky. "Shoot...I wish I had brought my coat with me." He tried to find his way back to his bathroom area but couldn't even manage to do that. "Shit...I can't freaking believe this...I'm actually lost!" He admitted to himself.

The darkness was creeping in more and more. He couldn't see more than 30 yards in front of him in any direction and everything looked the same; the forest was so dense. He had no idea where the river was.

He wandered around for another few minutes and was about to sit down to conserve his energy when he saw a little dirt path a few yards off. The path was only about two feet wide. 'Who knows where this goes...but I've got no other choices right about now. I can't stay out here all night,' he thought. He headed down the path.

Justin followed the narrow path for about a mile. His mind was plagued with doubt. He was just about to turn around and go back when the forest opened up a little and he saw a huge dark shape looming directly in front of him. It was obviously a large house of some sort--maybe even a mansion--but it was hard to tell how large due to the oppressive rain and darkness. There was almost no open space around the house; the trees were extremely close in every direction and practically enveloped the structure.

The hulking structure looked completely dark inside and out and was less than inviting. The main part of the house appeared to have at least three floors, while some of the wings appeared to have four or five floors.

"No way am I going in there!" Justin said aloud. He remembered what the locals had said about a strange mansion in the woods. He looked around for a porch or an overhang--a shelter of some sort--but saw nothing in the front of the house. He went back to the path sat down and waited. After about 10 minutes he started thinking about the movie "The Blair Witch Project." While he was walking he hadn't really had time to get scarred, but now that he was sitting still, was completely alone, and was lost in a forest in the middle of Pennsylvania, his mind was working on creative overdrive. He started imagining that all sorts of supernatural things were lurking in the forest behind him. And then, he started to hear things. He considered his options and decided he would rather try to find a dry spot in the house than wait outside all night and be fair game for whatever happened to be capering by.

He left the path and walked up the steps to the front door. The house was so dark he assumed nobody was inside. He didn't bother to knock and simply tried turning the knob on the giant wooden door. All of a sudden he felt like something in the woods was watching him. He turned and looked back at the dirt path but didn't see anything. 'Something IS there, whether you can see it or not' his intuition warned. He could FEEL it. Without batting an eyelash, he turned and broke one of the front window panes with his shoe, reached in carefully and unlocked the door. He opened the door and stepped inside quickly, almost certain that something was about to grab him from behind and pull him down the steps and back into the forest.

The interior of the house was pitch black but it felt warmer than the rainy forest. "It feels like there is some sort of heat on in here. Maybe there is a fireplace downstairs. Maybe someone is here? Maybe I can find help. I just hope they don't shoot me before I can explain my situation," he worried. Without waiting for his eyes to adjust, he pulled out his lighter and flicked it on. He was standing in a wide beautiful hallway which lead to several smaller rooms. A great wooden staircase stood directly in the middle of the hallway and lead upstairs. He was pleasantly surprised to find that the interior of the house looked normal, and not run down at all. The furniture was actually expensive looking and in good condition. He saw a light-switch and tried it, but nothing happened. "If there is nice furniture and heat, there should be candles." He thought. Gaining confidence, he left the main hallway and walked into the living room. It too was furnished nicely. Justin rubbed his hand on a soft sofa and was amazed at how plush it felt. At the same time a bolt of lightening flashed outside and lit up the yard for several seconds.

Someone was in the yard, looking at him.

There was a dark shape, standing in the rain outside in front of the house, right by the dirt path that Justin had just used to navigate his way through the forest. The figure was motionless and appeared to be a woman. Justin could not see her face but somehow knew she was staring directly at him. All of a sudden a name came to him...it just popped into his head. "Alexandra Tioga." The light faded quickly and it was dark again. Justin closed his lighter and stepped back toward the interior of the house, hoping he had not been seen.

He whispered to himself, "Oh man...it's true..those locals were right! She must still live here! But how is that possible? She would be REALLY old by now, and that woman out in the yard didn't seem old."

'Well maybe it's not her then,' another part of his mind argued, trying to keep things together.

"I know it's her, and she's not normal! She's a ghost or something! She was standing in that cold, cold rain, motionless...just staring at me." He slowly backed out of the living room and into the hallway. The darkness closed in around him; he was sure that something was going to creep out of the darkness and grope for his neck. He fled toward the back of the house, banging into several pieces of furniture as he hurried in the darkness. He flicked his lighter on again but kept his hand close to the flame to contain the brightness. He passed several rooms and a few staircases before he reached the back of the house. A small staircase led upstairs and a larger one led downstairs. He tiptoed up the staircase all the way to the third floor, went down a smaller hallway, and entered the second room on the left. 'She won't find me here,' he thought as he shut the door gently behind him. He waited at the door, his heart pounding in is chest. Quietly, he pressed his ear to the door and listened. All he could hear was the rain and the wind outside. After a few minutes, he started to relax a little and was about to pull his head away from the door when he heard a faint tapping. A few seconds later he realized that it was the sound of high heels clicking on one of the wooden staircases in the middle of the house.

Click...click...click...click...the ominous sound grew louder; the woman was getting closer. Justin heard the heels clicking on the third-story hallway, the woman's pace was even and determined as if she knew exactly where she could find him! He held his breath, afraid that it might give him away. Click...click...click...click... the sound grew louder and louder, it was absolutely maddening! He started to hear his own heart beating rapidly inside his body--like the crazy murderer in Edgar Allen Poe's "Tell-tale heart." Justin cowered away from the door. The heels stopped directly outside the door. He heard a woman's voice laughing gently.

"Good luck, Trickstress is really good...and really bad!" The woman whispered seductively. And then, thankfully, Justin heard the sound of heels clicking on the hallway floor again as the woman continued on toward the back of the house. Breathless with fear and relief, he listened as the sound drifted away downstairs and was drowned out by the wind and rain outside. When he was certain the woman was gone, he inhaled deeply.

"That was close. How did she know I was in here?" He thought. "I wonder what she was talking about when said good luck?"

  

  

  

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