Story F A E [Volume 1]

[M.J. Saulnier]

VOLUME I

Created by M.J. Saulnier


Drama/Mystery/Science Fiction/Horror
Some Mature/Disturbing Scenes


“Spanning the breadth of your entire existence, you’ve asked the question, ‘What am I?’
Well, my precious child, I’ve been waiting a lifetime to welcome you home.”
— The Woman in White​

F A E follows the lives of several families living in the rustic, quiet little town of White River Valley. An eerie, rural community nestled deep into the valley forest. Nothing in this place is quite as it seems on the surface, and seven teenagers are about to find out exactly why. The mystery runs deep, but the connection between them all runs even deeper. One of those teens is a new girl in town, about to discover the truth about this place and her own connection to it. Danger lurks beyond every shadow, and secrets remain locked behind every door. FAE is a modern fantasy epic that promises to keep you on the edge of your seat from start to finish.



VOLUME I
Episode 1: What Am I?
Episode 2: Secrets
Episode 3: The Tree of Life
Episode 4: Calculated Chaos
Episode 5: Paradigm Shift
Episode 6: His Name Is Alister
Episode 7: Generations (Part 1)
Episode 8: Generations (Part 2)
Episode 9: Roots
Episode 10: Baptism By Fire
Episode 11: A New Body
Episode 12: Run
Episode 13: Leaf On The Wind

​

 

[M.J. Saulnier]

EPISODE 1
What Am I?​

Mayor's Office, White River Valley

Miles Feltman had roots in White River Valley. The sort of roots that find their fare deep, reaching back toward the soil in which they had been sown. His family had placed stakes here centuries ago and hadn't spent so much as a day beyond the rolling sea of dense, primordial forest that surrounded the town like a blanket of fog offering both bounty and retribution alike. It was a quiet place. Where no animals frolicked or foraged. No wind dashed through the tree canopy, rustling fallen leaves as they pirouette along the forest floor. This was a ghostly holt where locals say the leaves will whisper to you should you walk among them by your lonesome. Miles Feltman grew up on those sorts of folk tales. He knew every intimate discomfiture of this town as well as every contentment. He knew every side street, back alley and dirt trail. He loved White River Valley, because he was its Mayor.

For thirty-seven-years Miles faithfully served the office of Mayor. He knew every resident by name, and had stories to tell about their grandparents. In fact, in most homes in this town, Miles was like an extended grandfather. He shopped in the same supermarkets, bought gas at the same pumps and attended Sunday mass at the same church as the majority of families in town. Despite being the Mayor, his title wasn't a big deal, because he was a fixture in the community. Everyone knew Mr. Feltman by name. He was an approachable, ordinary guy who always took the time to converse and catch up with his constitutes. He was a good husband, good neighbor and a good Mayor, forgiving his propensity to eat most of Ellen Harper's oatmeal macarons at town hall meetings.

Miles stood in his office, squinting and pursing his lips as he ran his left index finger along a row of standing records neatly packed into a shelf. When he had made his selection, he smiled with a fond nostalgia as he traced his finger tips across the colorful yet faded cover art. This particular record reminded him of his wife, Norma, and 1964, the year they first met. Although they were only teenagers, there was something so innocent and simple about that time. Back before children had grown into adults. Before this town had been forever changed on a crisp autumn evening. Before decisions had been made that could never be undone.

He nudged a pair of thick prescription lenses up the bridge of his weathered, slightly crooked nose as he carefully removed the vinyl from its sleeve. The clock on the wall over his shoulder read three minutes after midnight. A low rumble of thunder approached on the horizon, nearing the Valley with each passing moment, a dull azure flash flickering against the window panes.


The needle dropped and Miles gently closed the lid over the record player.

​

Heading straight for the mini-bar he fixed himself a straight brandy, helping himself to a generous gulp. He gazed around the rustic, quaint little office he had spent the last thirty-seven-years upholding. This was his second home; His castle. White River Valley? His kingdom. A swell of emotion—maybe even dread—consumed him momentarily before a crack of thunder accompanied by a bright flash startled him. His attention was drawn to the window, where he quietly observed the coming storm.

Behind him, the door handle began to squeak and rattle as it slowly turned open. Miles' hands began to shake, his palms becoming clammy as he held his brandy tightly, wedding band worn faithfully around his wrinkled right ring finger. He turned around, giving a nervous glance of his shoulder as he did so. The door creaked open with agonizing leisure, only adding to the mounting anticipation. A tall figure stood beyond the threshold cloaked in shadow. Miles was hesitant; Fearful. But this fear was not for himself. This fear was for the people of his town.

"So...you’ve finally returned?" Miles asked nervously.

"It’s time, Miles," the man said with an eerily calm authority in a clean, modern American accent.

Miles placed his brandy on the windowsill behind him.

"I’ve been waiting for this...well, a long time now. I made my peace. So, you go ahead. Do your worst."

"My worst, Miles?" the man asked rhetorically, stepping forward into the light more. He had long, perfectly kempt black hair parted down the center, framing off a long, pale, bony face. He was altogether unsettling and yet ghoulishly handsome in the same breath. He had eyes that could strip paint off the wall, and a smile fit for the devil himself.

"Believe me, the worst is yet to come," he said with a sinister lack of expression, his face illuminated by azure light as another crack of thunder rolled across the valley sky.

 

[M.J. Saulnier]

​

Country Road, Outside White River Valley

Phillip and June Ross had followed the storm most of the way into White River Valley. Traveling northbound, they came upon the tail and remained behind it on a northwestern heading all the way into White River County. Their navy station wagon followed an old, remote country road winding through the valley forest, entombed by a dense, towering treeline. The vibrant canopy of lush leaves was stippled with droplets of cool morning rain. They set out the day before and had been on the road all night. It was nearing dawn, and they had been rotating shifts at the wheel for over twelve hours now. Phillip sat behind the wheel, his right hand resting casually at twelve o'clock. He was visibly lethargic, but alert nevertheless. He had brown hair and a very short beard that masked his youthful aesthetic. Blinking slowly and with a heavy burden, he raised an over-the-counter coffee cup to his dry lips. It was a satisfying gulp, even if it had gone cold an hour ago. Phillip kind of liked cold coffee if there was just enough sugar in it. He gave a quick glance of his right shoulder toward his wife, who was leaning against the door handle with her chin cupped in her right palm, full head of silky black hair turned away from him. Her light green eyes gazed longingly out the passenger window as the scenery crawled by.

Phillip returned his languid sapphire gaze to the road rather quickly, keeping her firmly on his mind.

"It's not too late to turn around, baby girl," he proposed softly, so as not to awaken their daughter, Melanie, who had been sound asleep in the back seat the entire time.

June looked him over with a warm, pursed smile. He was such a selfless man, and she loved him deeply for it, but her decision had been made. There was no turning back now.

*****​

White River Valley

Melanie's blue green eyes slowly fluttered open as she lay in the back seat. Her long black hair was gathered in a bun at the crown of her head. She lay on her right side, against the rear passenger side door. She wore a black hoodie that peeked out from under the purple blanket she was wrapped in. She allowed all of her senses to focus as she noted that it was now after dawn and daylight had already broken. She had slept for most of the night and her body felt tight, cramped, discombobulated and she was a little peckish. Rising from beneath her purple blanket to peek out the windows, Mel set her gaze upon the streets of White River Valley for the very first time.

It was thoroughly underwhelming to her urban senses. A light fog lingered along the surface of the ground, lending a lonely, ghostly nuance to the already eldritch landscape. Long, narrow stretches of twin lane back road, only shoulder and ditch between pavement and treeline. The power lines and telephone poles seemed so much more distinguished in towns like these. It wasn't her first small town, but she had hoped it would be her last, and was fairly certain that her stay wouldn't be a long one. As the back road gave way to the downtown core, her disappointment only snowballed. The pit of her stomach sank a few inches as she saw the narrowly structured streets lined with old, short buildings cluttered with scrappy signage and personal bric-a-brac. Open lots and stretches of grass and trees dotted all around in every direction. It was like something from a movie, where people go to buy haunted houses.

"So... This is it, huh?" Mel asked with a despondent sort of tone which was rather typical of a teenage girl placed out of her element. June immediately spun around in her seat, facing her daughter.

"I know it’s small, hun, but I promise, it will grow on you," she said compassionately, trying to console Mel. The hardest part of all of this was having to put her daughter through yet another move.

"There’s even a small beach if you know where to find it," she added, going the extra step to put her mind at ease. June knew that in time, this place would become Melanie's home. In time, everything would become clear.

"That should at least keep you happyish for the summer," Phillip said, glancing at Mel through the rear-view mirror with his big, bright, signature Phillip Ross smile. Mel grinned as she locked eyes with him, attempting to return her gaze to the window inconspicuously.

"You know me, Dad," she said, stilling her expression and returning her train of thought to a more glum setting.

"Leaf on the wind."

Spoiler: Author Note

This is one of those posts I had to drag out the door kicking and screaming. I just got through it so I could move on ASAP. I'm going to have good days and bad days, and my rhythm is still all over the place, but it will get better with time.

 

[M.J. Saulnier]

24 Cresthill Drive, White River Valley

The Ross family vehicle crawled along Cresthill Drive; a sleepy little street on the south eastern outskirts of town. The curb met lawn in neat, uniform fashion along the curved stretch of pavement leaving no room for the suburban sidewalks Mel had grown accustomed to. The small neighborhood was tucked neatly below the towering valley forest. Everywhere trees stood as ancient landmarks; collections of branches and leaves looming over the town like watchful eyes. The trees here were old, towering in height and robust in width. The sort of trees that muster a distinguished character and presence when gazed upon with a hungry eye.

June noted the numbers mounted on houses that passed by her window, her current count at eighteen. Within only a few houses, they began to edge toward the tall, modern American three story home with twenty-four mounted to the porch-side wall in rustic black lettering. It had rain washed green siding made of weathered wood with crisp, recently refinished white trim. The front porch was wide and sweeping, covering the length of the home along the front face. It was love at first sight for the married couple. June had finally found a home. A real home. For Phillip, home was wherever June and Mel were, but for his wife and daughter, this was significant. June had been on the run since two had met, and Mel had never had a place she could truly call home. June was a runner, and he never questioned that. He accepted it because he wanted it all - the good and bad alike - but he was revealed to be settling down for Mel's sake.

Melanie was delightfully impressed by the warm, welcoming, spacious home, although she'd never allow herself to completely show it. She was holding out, playing judge and jury this time. They finally decided to plant stakes, and took her to the middle of nowhere. But this house felt like a home. A real home. Not an apartment, duplex or a rental. This was their own family nest, yard and all. She smiled, beginning to loosen up a bit more, already trying to picture the interior of the house.

The station wagon began to turn into the driveway of the new Ross home and Phillip noticed a middle-aged man with dark brown hair washing a red sedan in the neighboring driveway at 26 Cresthill. As he parked the station wagon, he glanced at his new neighbor, offering the standard dad nod which translates directly to: Hey. The man returned his gesture as June spoke up from within their vehicle.

"Home, sweet home, my loyal luggage carriers," she joked with a smile and a laugh, gathering her purse and phone. Phillip smirked, stepping out of the car to once again lock eyes with his new neighbor.

Nathan Elliot nodded again, this time more firmly, and with a closed lip smile.

"New in town?" he asked with the casual politeness he was known for, still hosing his sedan down in the morning sun.

"Just getting in now," Phillip replied cheerfully. He was the outgoing member of the Ross clan. The one who could get along with anyone and hold a conversation about anything. "Long night following that storm in."

Nathan smiled, imagining for a moment what that must have been like. It was a nasty spot of weather to sleep through, let alone drive.

"Well. I’ll leave you to it, then," he announced sternly. "We’ll have the wives set up formal introductions," he added with a grin and a wink.

Phillip let a laugh slip as June stepped out of the station wagon behind him. "Sounds great to me," he said, heading for the trunk to unload luggage.

Mel headed for the porch with several bags, head buried in her phone as June stepped out of the passenger side, locking eyes with Nathan Elliot. It was as though she had frozen in place. Not by fear, or wonder, but by surprise, stun, shock. They shared a strange moment that entranced Nathan, despite his subtle discomfort.

Their entranced gazes separated as Nathan looked away, and focused once again on his red sedan. June quickly gave a glance of her left shoulder to Phillip, who seemed busy tending to luggage for her. She took a deep breath, tightened her brow and gave one last, contempt filled glance at Nathan before joining Mel on the porch with the keys to the home.

Spoiler: Author Note

Another one that came out kicking and screaming. Is was it is for now, I suppose. Sorry everyone.