Banged In The Bayou: Monsterotica Book 1 by Madison Sevier Page B

women, children and even men off into the forest, never to be seen again or heard from again. A few years ago, they’d sent hunting parties into various swamplands in the hopes of driving it out of hiding. Amazingly, the stories stopped after people began disappearing left and right. There was no one left to confirm or deny what was happening and no one else ever volunteered to go in search of Nessiana. Thinking back about the location of the last sighting and considering where I’d most likely become stranded, I realized I must be sitting right where the very last hunting party has disappeared.
    “Shit.”
    I stood, put my top back on and dusted myself off as I saw the last few rays of sunlight giving in to the night sky. I knew better than to be in out in the swamps alone at night, but what else could I do? By then, I had traveled deep into the bayou and I had no idea if I could find my way back out on my own. There hadn’t been one shanty that appeared to be lived in and not one had a light on. I was screwed…so screwed.
    Chapter Two
    Hours passed as I plodded down the winding, dirt path and the entire endeavor to find a living soul had proven futile. I couldn’t keep going. I was tired, hungry, dehydrated and on the verge of hysteria. 
    “I can see the headlin es now. ‘Missing Woman From Indiana Found Dead In Louisiana Swamp: Manner of Death: Stupidity’.” But, oh what a story it would be! If only I’d thought to bring a notebook with me, I could’ve been writing down the entire ordeal. What if I found Nessiana myself? Or even worse, what if Nessiana found me?
    Literally, plopping myself down, I landed wit h a muffled ‘Thud!’ on the rocky path.
    “I cannot believe this is how I’m going to die. Dirty, sweaty, eaten alive by bugs and shoeless with dried blood running down my legs. Unreal.” I slapped at giant mosquitos who were using me as a buffet and cursed myself for not grabbing other clothes before venturing off into a stinking swamp!
    I crawled into some tall grass, my knees bleeding as jagged pebbles sliced my skin and propped myself up against a huge, old Cypress tree. Small slivers of moonlight peeked through and reflected a glimmery surface sheltered deeper in the swamp. “Another pond most likely full of muddy water. Fabulous.”
    I can’t tell you how many nocturnal critters ran and slithered away from me that night as I crawled through foot and a half tall weeds, trying to reach the pond. I lost count. All I know is that there are way too many crocodiles, raccoons, bugs and snakes in the bayou and my vacation had taken a seriously shitty turn.
    Finally, the glorified mud puddle was only a few yards away and I braced myself for what I was about to do. Being a neat freak, normally drinking only bottled water had spoiled me to anything less than what fit my OCD standards. Sure I was already filthier than a greased pig, but still, I counted to ten countless times before I could force myself to cup my hands and drink the liquid. But I did it and it was the best water I’d ever tasted in my life.
    After manically gulping a dozen handfuls, I felt my body recoil in disgust. Next thing I knew, I was on my knees, vomiting every bit of the fluid I’d greedily ingested. I have no idea how long the heaves tore through my body before I passed out.
    Chapter Three
    “What the…”
    I awoke to find myself on a bed of plants. There were walls of moss surrounding me and a musty odor filled my nostrils.
    “Where? How?”
    My first thought was that a serial killer had indeed found me and taken me to his cave in the woods. Either way, I was going to die.
    At first, the only sounds I could hear were an incessant drip from somewhere in the cavern and the loud thumping of my own heart. I sat up, though my body protested as my head throbbed. Should I scream? Was there anyone there? I had a feeling that I was truly fucked. Wherever I was, it was not good.
    Just then, I heard something moving. It sounded like