The hamlet of Invermoriston dates back to the early 1600s. It's home to a handful of lodgings, taverns, and quaint craft shops, and its pier was once a popular destination for steamships traveling up and down the Loch in the 1890s.
Invermoriston first found fame in 1746 when the town harbored the "Seven Men of Moriston," a loyal band who protected Bonnie Prince Charlie from the English forces following the massacre at Culloden.
Thirteen generations later, the tiny Loch Ness village was about to become popular for an entirely different reason.
Tiani Brueggert had been planning her family's weeklong camping trip around Loch Ness for months. Although her husband, Joel, and their two teenage daughters, Chloe and McKailey, preferred to stay in bed-and-breakfasts, Tiani would hear none of it, insisting her "average American family" rough it in tents along the legendary banks of the Loch.
Their backpacks loaded with gear, the Brueggerts set out on their walking tour in Fort Augustus, the Loch's southernmost town. An eighteen-mile trail awaited them as they hiked north past scenic Loch Ness through forests heavy in spruce and pine.
The first day's journey ended eight hours later in Invermoriston. Crossing the Telford Bridge, the Brueggerts posed in photos of the majestic Moriston Falls, then followed the river farther west, but by seven-thirty, they were back in the village, their bodies spent.
The sun was still high when they stopped for dinner at the Glenmoriston Arms Tavern and Bistro. Two hours later, the exhausted family finally made camp on the banks of Loch Ness, just southwest of the inlet. There were dozens of other campers at the site, most on holiday from Europe. A few were fishing, all were enjoying the remains of a Highland summer sunset.
By the time they had crawled into their sleeping bags, the graying skies had darkened into storm clouds, and the Glen's southeasterly breeze had intensified, whipping up whitecaps on the Loch's threatened surface.
The more experienced campers quickly battened down, anticipating a rough night.
The two Brueggert girls were in their tent, having fallen asleep within minutes of their heads hitting their pillows. Joel was lying on his side next to his wife, reading by flashlight, but Tiani was in too much pain to sleep. It was the second day of her period, the heaviest bleeding day of her menstrual cycle. Her lower back ached, and both her ankles were swollen from the day's hike. She knew another long day lie ahead, having scheduled her family to be in Drumnadrochit by the next night, and the trail would be steep one — assuming she could even get her feet back into her hiking boots by morning.
Swallowing two more aspirin, she turned to her husband. "I'll be back in a few minutes, I want to soak my ankles before it rains. Joel?"
Her husband mumbled a reply, his eyes already closed.
Tiani crawled out of the tent, pulling on her hooded navy sweatshirt against the wind. Locating the wooded path leading to the Loch, she staggered gingerly through the forest down the sloping trail, her flashlight barely cutting the darkness.
The pain forced her to pause at a park bench situated in a small clearing littered with trash from an overflowing steel barrel, then she continued down the steepening path to the shoreline.
Gusts of wind and spray greeted her as she left the shelter of the forest. Turning right, she followed the heavily pebbled beach to the boating dock. Menacing dark waves rolled against the launch, sending a dozen aluminum canoes and wooden kayaks banging against one another as they fought their tethers.
Walking to the end of the pier, Tiani removed her unlaced boots and thick wool socks, rolled up her pant legs, then sat along the edge and plunged her throbbing ankles into the near-freezing waters.
Tiani yelped in protest, and it took several attempts and four full minutes before her skin finally numbed to the cold. Lying back, she gazed east across the Loch at an ominous outline of mountains and thunderheads, then closed her eyes, believing she was alone.
"Huh!" Tiani bolted upright, her heart pounding, her eyes wide as she searched her surroundings.
Something had startled her awake. What was it?
Raindrops pelted her, and she laughed at her foolishness. She pulled her legs from the water, but her feet were so numb she could no longer feel them. She massaged them until the circulation returned, her eyes never leaving Loch Ness's choppy surface.
Stop being stupid. Next, you'll be searching the woods for Big Foot.
Still nervous, she slipped her socks back over her feet, then gently tugged on her boots, keeping the laces loose. The swelling was down, and that was good, but now she just wanted to be back in her tent and out of the rain.
Tiani stood, then headed back down the pier, her unlaced shoes clopping on the weathered boards.
Leaving the boating area, she turned right and retraced her steps along the rocky shoreline until she came to the beginning of the wooded trail that led up to the campsite.
Tiani paused, inhaling the wind. An acrid scent lingered in the brisk air, the smell reminding her of a zoo cage that desperately needed hosing.
Whomp!
Tiani let out a half scream, startled by the sudden crash of metal somewhere up ahead. "Hello? Who's there? Joel?"
Gusts of wind whipped the rain-soaked pine needles against her arms, urging her to begin the climb.
Focusing her flashlight on the path, she started up the slope, the scent growing stronger.
She was perspiring by the time she arrived at the park bench — the halfway point to the campsite. Raindrops pelted the rusted steel trash barrel, which, strangely, was now lying on its side, garbage strewn everywhere.
The wind? Impossible. The can must weigh over two hundred pounds. She circled the small clearing with the beam of her flashlight. Nothing.
The climb had loosened her unlaced boots to the point they were slipping off her feet. Shuffling over to the picnic table, she lifted her right boot to the bench and began pulling the laces tighter.
She jumped again as a gunshot of thunder echoed across the heavens — and something huge floundered across the path leading up to the campsite.
Tiani's heart fluttered. What the fuck was that? She crept to the edge of the trail, shining her light up the dark, tree-lined path. Maybe a bear?
There was nothing there now… but something had been there a minute ago. She caught a heavy whiff of decaying fish in the swirling wind.
And then the heavens opened up overhead, drenching her in a summer squall. "Terrific." Tiani yelled up the path as loud as she could. "Joel! Joel, help!"
The cloudburst rose into a crescendo of splattered leaves, swallowing her cries.
Wind lashed at the limbs of pine encircling the rest area, scattering the garbage at her feet.
"Joel! Hello! Can anybody hear me?"
A spiderweb of lightning answered her, igniting the heavens, revealing the shadowy figure, now poised at the edge of the clearing. Tiani Brueggert looked up in horror… and screamed.
Entry: 24 October 1330
I can only estimate this date of entry, no' that it matters, for I fear my words will ne'er see the light o' day nor another's eyes. Still, whit mine have seen… scarcely can I steady my hand to record the tale.
When last I wrote, the Knights were hard at work, assemblin' an iron gate meant tae block the Guivres' exit tae the North Sea. The cavern's air had grown heavy wi' smoke frae oor torches, an' Sir Iain wis close by, busy preparin' a meal o' mince an' tatties. The scent o' the meat caused my stomach tae gurgle, when suddenly a terrible scream shattered oor calm an' I dropped my quill.