The three alphas- Robby, Pope and Jack- had been settled in their cabin for a good 20 years.
The thing that stalked their cabin has been settled there for much longer.
They don’t know when they first noticed him; the lines between thinking it’s animals, then wishing it’s animals, then knowing it wasn’t have run over the years.
Their routine usually goes as follows; Jack, up the earliest before dawn starts coloring the sky. He carries his lantern and a satchel of salt and dutifully pours it in a circle surrounding their cabin and the tiny farm behind it. And- dutifully, every morning- it walks alongside him on the other side.
Human if you didn’t look hard enough. Blue eyes a touch too big and sandy curls the color of a dried mud bank. Skin as pale as a corpse’s, fingers too thin to be hand-waved as dainty. Always barefoot, always dressed in a dirty beige shirt and blue jeans. When he talked it was like there was mud in his throat, the words coming out garbled and wet.
“Do you like being a doctor? How did you lose your leg? You look very strong, a very capable alpha, is Robby your mate? Do you have an omega? Well what kind of home doesn't have one?”
They both politely ignore the salt line that sits between them both. Jack stays silent as Dennis babbles, broken up by soft, warbly cooes and cackles that make Jack think of the crows that circle the house. Sometimes he doesn’t talk in anything but borrowed words, garbled and throaty, sometimes a woman’s panicked call for her husband and sometimes a boy explaining how to get through the passage near their house. Sometimes a man, sleazy and growly asking why a pretty little thing was out here at night.
He doesn’t talk to Pope, but Jack thinks it’s because Pope takes his axe with him when he goes out to chop wood. It suits them- Dennis stares, wide blue eyes taking in every detail while Pope stares right back as he dutifully splits the logs.
Robby’s last to wake, as the sky starts to lighten, when the smells of cooking meat and coffee waft out the open window. Robby always throws the bones out into the woods, and Dennis always comes to retrieve them like they’re something precious. On quiet mornings, Robby could hear the scrape of teeth on bone, and the cracks of an animal breaking them open.
Once the morning light broke through the canopy, Dennis would retreat into whatever den he’s made for himself by their home. Only then is it safe for the Rural doctors to make their house calls.
Their hours are very strict- do not come before the sun is up. Do not leave after the sun went down.
idk Rural Appalacian horror!Dennis trying to court the pretty alphas in the salt line enclosure brought to you by @crazyamoeba
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