Page 12 of Wrong Cabin, Right Time
“Lake Lure, North Carolina, may seem like a small, idyllic town nestled in the heart of the Appalachian Mountains,” Beth, my favoritePretty Grimhost, says in her introduction for the episode. “But even small towns have mysteries. With stories of mythical creatures roaming the woods at night, missing people, and even suspected killers roaming the streets, it begs the question: If you aren’t safe in the nicest of places, then where are you safe?”
Beth and her sister Caroline both go back and forth talking about their podcast tour and the sold-out shows they have all across the country before they get into the good stuff. I can tune that out with ease as I open Instagram on my phone and look at the analytics for the video I posted.
Trust me, I’m no dancer. I have the coordination of a bumblebee missing a wing, but that doesn’t stop me from getting in on the trends. After all, I am relatively new in the content creator space, and the best way to get followers is by being relevant and trendy. I’m living proof of this because it’s only been two hours since I’ve posted the video, and I’ve already amassed a thousand new followers.
My heart skips a beat. This is what I’ve waited for. I could goviral.
I look at the comments, and, of course, DarkHours99 left one for me.Why is this video five hours long?
In real life, I roll my eyes and take a deep breath while I think of a response. However, to the man behind the username, my blushing and laughing emojis will make him feel like I value his comment.
I go through about twenty other comments, liking them and leaving cheeky responses just to make my followers feel like I know them. Sure, sociologists are saying parasocial relationships are dangerous, but if I have loyal fans who will share my content all over the internet, it’s pretty beneficial.
After I’m done, I set my phone down and get back to work. While I was out there filming the dance video, I shot a few more to post at later dates. I figure, if I can get a lot of content done in one day, I can spend the rest of my time here relaxing and focusing on what’s important: Travis Blacksburg.
“In recent years, there have been several missing person reports coming from Lake Lure,” Beth says when they finally start discussing the actual crimes they’re reporting on. “A majority of the missing persons have been transient types: unhoused individuals, travelers, and runaways. Local police have been informed of the disappearances, but there’s little evidence forthem to go on. Friends of the missing have urged them to look into the disappearances, to no avail.”
“Some people just make it too easy to be murdered.” I sigh, shaking my head at the podcast.
I’m traveling as a single woman across the country. I don’t drive a car, and I often rely on the kindness of strangers to take me where I need to go. But even considering that, I’m savvy. I can spot danger from a mile away. I know that nobody thinks these things will ever happen to them, but this wouldn’t ever happen to me.
I rest my chin on my hands as I stare at the computer screen and wait for the rest of my footage to upload. I have a few videos of me lip-synching to a popular song at golden hour, as well as a few stitches with some other popular creators. My phone chimes, and I look at it, not surprised to see a message from DarkHours99.
He’s sent me a lot of messages in the past, and I rarely respond to them. I like his comments, and I reply when I see them, and he clearly takes that as an invitation to slide into my DMs. Even though I don’t respond to him privately, he doesn’t seem to take the hint.
He’s replied to almost all my stories, telling me that I look beautiful and wishing that he was at certain places with me poolside while I’m in a bikini. I try not to think about what I know he does to those images, which is a large part of why I don’t respond to his messages. It might potentially lead him to send me explicit content I don’t want.
The message reads,Don’t forget us small people when you get famous lol, your last video is popping off! You got an Amazon wishlist yet? I’m sure there are a lot of guys willing to buy you anything you want.
It sounds ungrateful to say this, but I feel bad for him. I know he’s just a lonely person finding connection in our internet relationship. It’s not real. He knows nothing about who I really am, and I don’t even know his name. He clearly thinks it goes deeper than content creator and follower.
I ignore it and put the phone back down to focus on editing. The more I think about DarkHours99 and his almost constant snoopingon my page, the more I think about Travis doing the same. Did he see pictures of me in my tiny bikini sitting by the pool at the last Airbnb I reviewed? Did he like those pictures enough to touch himself?
Even the idea of it is a turn-on, and I squeeze my legs together a little tighter to release some of the pressure building between them at the thought.
My footage finally loads into iMovie, and I take a deep breath as I get to work scrubbing through it. At first everything appears normal. Then I notice something in the background, just out of focus enough for me not to have noticed it right away—Travis.
“Oh, Mr. Blacksburg,” I say as I sit up and stare closely at the computer screen. “Why didn’t you come say hi?”
I zoom in on him as much as I can to try to get a look at his face. My entire body feels featherlight as I see the intense look in his eyes as he watches me. I was right about him. He feels the same connection to me that I feel to him. After all, you don’t watch someone as intensely as he did without being a little interested in them.
“Travis, I’m going to make your dreams come true tonight,” I say as I jump to my feet and rush to the bedroom.
I strip out of the denim shorts and tank top I’m currently wearing and kneel in front of my suitcase, completely naked. The first thing I do is find the sexiest bra and panties I own. A nice lacy red pair that would seduce anyone. I check myself out in the mirror and admire how perky my boobs look and how the underwear gives my ass the perfect shape.
“Try to resist me in this,” I say, laughing to myself.
I find a sage green—obviously my favorite color—mini slip dress that hangs delicately on my body and put it on. It exposes just enough of my thighs to keep anyone wondering, and my cleavage is on full display. I can already imagine Travis drooling when he sees me on his doorstep in this.
I slip on a pair of wedge sandals and make my way over to his house. Travis is clearly interested in me, and I don’t want the two of us to waste another moment apart. On the walk there, all I can thinkabout is wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders and feeling him press himself against me.
Tonight, I’m going to show him what I can offer. I’m going to make him mine. I’ll do whatever it takes.
It’s dark by the time I reach his driveway. His front door is in my sights, and I take a deep breath as I make my way over.
As if out of nowhere, two bright headlights meet my eyes, and a black SUV comes barreling out of the garage. I barely manage to jump out of the way, crashing into the concrete driveway.
The car comes to a screeching halt as I’m trying to wrap my brain around what just happened. The car door slams shut, and I turn around to see Travis standing there, all dressed in black. My mind immediately goes to how good he looks. Black is a great color on anyone, but he pulls it off particularly well.
