Pheromoan

Since I can remember, Cypress Hallow has always been "strange"—if you would even call it that. Between mysterious deaths and otherworldly creatures rumored to linger in the woods at the edge of town, the small community of only fifteen hundred never stood a chance before being slapped with the foreboding title of "America's Creepiest Town." But I believe that couldn't be further from the true Cypress Hallow I grew up in. From the amazing, welcoming people to the immersive culture of the town, I was frustrated to see whispers of creatures in the woods and the year-round mist overshadow everything in the media about Cypress Hallow. "Why do you always read that crap? It just gets you mad, Tarot." I crumpled the newspaper into a small ball in my fist, looking toward my wife, Monica, as she helped my son, Shadow, cut his pancakes. Tossing the piece of s**t that called itself literature away, I said, "Eat something, baby. You're gonna be late and hangry if you don't hurry."I slid a sunny-side-up egg down my throat, smirking and winking at her. She giggled, rolling her eyes. "You're gonna choke one day, and it'll be so satisfying." My phone beeped, reminding me I had to be out the door this second. I kissed her, interlocking my fingers in her soft brown locks, pulling her into a forceful kiss and softly biting her lip."I only wanna be choked when you're involved, baby." I stood up straight, sending a wink her way and placing a kiss on my son's head. Shadow was too busy on his tablet to pay me any attention."I love you guys. I'll see you later tonight." I raced out the door, making sure I had my gun and badge on me. I was a detective of Cypress Hallow, another reason I fiercely protected the image of the town. The newspaper and media were like blueprints for showing how my fellow officers and I weren't doing our jobs—or at least, that's how it seemed.The crime scene was the same as last Wednesday. The victim was drained of all his blood, and the d**k was missing. The cut was the cleanest I'd ever seen, like it had been made with a laser or surgically removed. A single kiss mark was placed on the neck of the deceased, almost as if the lips had been seared into the skin, possibly done with an iron prod. I wasn't a hundred percent sure. No signs of breaking and entering, no DNA left behind, nothing. This had been happening for about a week now—four different men, all of whom either had s****l assault accusations against them or had done time for it. Every able body was on this case, and we tried to keep the investigation under wraps to avoid another media storm—or worse, the FBI or CIA getting involved like they had all the other times something weird happened in Cypress Hallow. They'd stomp in, make the town a mess, and leave the locals worried, making our lives worse than before. And technically, whoever was doing this was helping clean up the place, but we wouldn't dare say that out loud. "What do you think? Weird, huh? My wife thinks it's some kind of vampire that hates men." I shook my head, rolling my eyes, and threw my gloves away. I turned to Bill Mayor, the local f**k-up they gave a badge to just to fill a spot. "You do not tell anyone about this. I don't give a f**k if it's your wife, Bill. All our jobs are on the line." He swallowed deeply, nodding as everyone murmured and stared at him, making Bill shrink into himself. The coroner arrived, hauling the body into the van, drawing attention away from Bill. We all stared silently, hoping this would be the last body. The victim this time was twenty-seven-year-old Daniel McKay. Two years ago, he was charged with the statutory r**e of a twelve-year-old. He did a year in prison and some community service—basically a slap on the wrist. This killer was once again pointing out one of the many faults in Cypress Hallow. I ran a hand over my beard in frustration and moved back into the victim's house to see if I could find anything that might point me to who or what was doing this. As soon as I hit the threshold, I was hit with the most beautiful smell I had ever smelled—almost like warm vanilla and freshly cut strawberries. I looked around, trying to find the source. Maybe one of these idiots had dropped something, contaminating the whole crime scene. The smell got stronger as I moved deeper into the house, my mind growing hazier with each step. Once I reached the victim's room, it felt as if I could taste the smell, invading all my senses. Pushing the door open, I covered my face with my shirt. The smell grew overwhelming. From the corner of my eye, I saw something glowing from under the victim's bed. I got down and saw a pair of pink panties lying underneath. I grabbed them, and the smell became a thousand times stronger, creating spots in my vision before everything went black. "Wake up, sleepyhead. It's no fun when you sleep through this part." I opened my eyes to complete darkness—except for her. She floated in front of me, and she was gorgeous. My eyes hungrily drank her in. She was blood-red with the pinkest, pouty lips. Her eyes were pitch-black, her teeth sharp, and she had black horns coming through her hair, which cascaded down her back in seamless ringlets. She was completely naked, like a piece of art. My heart hammered in my chest, but I couldn't panic even if I wanted to—it was as if I was frozen. The only thing I could move was my eyes. She floated closer, looking me over before tracing her long nails over my body, painfully slow, then roughly pulling my beard. I winced. She chuckled before slicing open the skin of my chest with her nails, pulling a muffled groan from me, then licking the blood that seeped from the wound. Her tongue was long and pointed, adding to her terrifying and alluring presence. "You're much more handsome than the last one. I'm going to have my fun with you, Detective Jones. Or should I call you Tarot?" She laughed at my expression, pressing herself against me, her legs wrapping around my waist. She stared deep into my eyes, running her fingers through my hair. "I've been watching you for months, Tarot. You're my favorite human on this dumbass planet. You should feel special. Honestly, I think you're better than chasing a 'bad guy' who murders lowlifes. But that's just me." I gathered enough strength to shake my head. She raised her eyebrow, surprised. "You're a strong one, huh? What are you, Tarot? My power is paralyzing—you shouldn't be able to move. I'm going to have more fun with you than I thought." My mind raced at what she could be talking about. "I have to go, Tarot. I'll be seeing you soon." She placed a heated kiss on my lips, and we kissed roughly. My lips sizzled painfully."Tarot! Oh my god, stop, please!" My eyes shot open. The pain started to register throughout my entire body. I jumped away from the stove as Monica rushed over, turning it off and running to the fridge to grab ice for my burnt lips. I looked around. I was at home. It was night, and I was in my pajamas."How did I get here?"