Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S5 Ep213: Episode 213: Weird and Bizarre Horror Stories

Episode Date: January 28, 2025

Our opening feature-length tale is ‘Cave’, by Skeletal Meulin; a story originally shared on the Creepypasta Wiki, and recorded here under the conditions of the CC-BY-SA license: https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/Cave Our second story this evening is ‘The Late-Night Creature Feature in Pompeii, Indiana’, an original work by the talented MCsinister765, again kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me exclusively narrate it here for you all. https://www.reddit.com/user/MCsinister765/ Today’s third fantastic story is ‘The Last Drive-In Theater I Ever Visited’, another original work, this time by the fabulous Zucca101, again kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me exclusively narrate it here. https://www.reddit.com/user/Zucca101/  Tonight’s penultimate classic three-part story is ‘I Break into Houses’, an original work by J. Deschene, kindly shared via the Creepypasta Wiki and read here under the conditions of the CC-BY-SA license.  https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/I_Break_into_Houses https://creepypasta.fandom.com/wiki/User:Jdeschene Tonight’s final macabre tale of fear and terror is '' I Woke up Like This'', an original work by Black Friday’s Witch 13, kindly shared directly with me for the express purpose of having me exclusively narrate it here. https://www.reddit.com/user/blackfridayswitch13/ 

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We believe OCT scans are so important they're included with every standard eye exam. Book an eye exam at Spexsavers.cavers.ca.ca. I exams are provided by independent optometrists. Visit Spexsavers.caver to learn more. Welcome to Dr. Creepin's Dungeon. Weird things horrifiers because they challenge our understanding of reality, forcing us to confront the unknown and the unexplainable. When something is strange or abnormal, it disrupts our sense of order and safety,

leaving us vulnerable to fear and uncertainty. This discomfort stems from our instinctive need to categorize and make sense of the world. When something defies logic or expectation, it triggers a primal response with whispers danger. The unfamiliar and uncanny tap into our deepest anxieties, making the weird not only fascinating but profoundly unsettling, as we shall see in tonight's collection of stories. As ever before we begin, a word of caution. Tonight's tale is making a strong language as well as descriptions of violence and horrific imagery.

That sounds like your kind of thing. Then let's begin. The cave. When I first moved to the small rural town of Gorham, Maine, I had a little idea of what the town was like. I'd heard it was a pretty place, not all that popular, but the people who lived there had been bred and raised there, going nowhere else for decades. It was one of those types of towns where everyone knew everyone. I decided to move here a little less than ten years ago, now I'm counted as a regular amongst the group.

But there were still secrets I hadn't been told. There are secrets you don't go prodding at in a group of such closeness and security, such as the one. about the past oh yes the past is a popular topic when gas was 50 cents a gallon or you could get your milk delivered to you but the past I speak of is a past that no one in this small town wants to be reminded of our legends are something that are often passed down from father to son mother to daughter daughter to cousins and cousins to strangers met at parties disturbing stories get around but none of them can be true.

As the game, telephone goes, a word passed around so much that by the time it gets to the end, it's completely different than from what it started as. The reason why I'm writing all this, and the reason why I'm even telling this story, is because it has no ending. Well, I'm confused at no end about what happened,

and I'm hoping someone somewhere can make sense of this irrational child's tale, rumor, sparking nonsense. It's been on my mind since it happened, even though it was back in 2008. Well, I suppose I ought to explain. The 23rd of September 2008. My house is on the border between Wyndham and Gorham, near the river. Buried in the woods, just slightly.

One, frightfully boring afternoon, I'd been told by a girlfriend that there was some walking paths into the deeper parts of the woods. Well, intrigued, I asked her if she'd come show me, and she came over. not an hour later. We trekked out into the woods, snapping some beautiful photos of the reddening leaves and a few scattering deer. It was a beautiful walk,

until we reached a part where the floor of the forest dipped very deeply. We tried to get down into it, but it was like trying to scale a wall downwards. We stood at the top and looked down over the hill for a while, trying to see if there was anything worth to stumble down.

We walked around the edges of it, finding that it was like a little ravine. As we moved on, we began to notice something different about the ground. It had more rocks in other parts of the forest. I looked ahead, taking my eyes off my footing for a moment to see a small cave in the ravine. Water was trickling out of it, making a small river, and went about ten or twenty feet before the small amount of water just disappeared. I looked back at my friend, whom I'll call just Andrea for now,

with a look of glee. I pointed to the cave and said, We need to get down there. She nodded and took lead, walking to a dip in the ravine that seemed to be less steep than the other parts. We staggered down it, reaching the cave within moments.

Andrea took a seat on what looked like petrified wood and took a drink of her water. Well, I investigated this amazing find. I stood in front of it to find that it was shorter than me, but fairly wide, about elbow to elbow and up to my collarbone. The light that shined in showed that it wasn't very big inside.

It dipped in and became very tight. But the most unique thing about this cave is that it was made out of stacked and plastered stunts. I snapped a few shots of it, feeling very excited. My kids would love to see this, I was thinking as I took a step in, ducking my head down. Oh, disappointment caught on, though. We were hours into the woods and I had no flashlights.

A frown came up on my face, but still I took photos of the interior. It was wet, dripping and cold. And a shiver raced down my spine. A slight blow of cold air came from the cave, like a soft, tired exhale, and an even softer noise following. Over the dripping of the water I could hear a small, short hiss. It was just a second and the sound was near silent. but I heard it.

I backed away from the cave, taking a final photo before turning to Andrea. She smiled at me and said something about farmers making tunnels that went under old roads to irrigate unwanted water to another place. She said it would explain all the loose stones up above us. I nodded in response, trying to look interested. But I wanted to get into the cave. I couldn't explain it, but I just wanted to find the end of it,

and just admire and probably be the first person to ever go in there. It was thrilling, but it was getting dark very, very quickly. I excited as hell, I turned to Andrea and said, we should come back tomorrow. She responded that she had a counselling appointment in Portland, but I could go myself if I wanted. I said I would, and we left the cave hiking home. It was pitch black when we stepped out of the woods, and Andrea raced to her forward explorer, jumping in it with a slight wave and a very rushed loud goodbye. she had to get home in time for her show and drove off i stood there in the driveway a moment hand still up waving her goodbye

but fingers no longer moving well i was a bit shocked by her suddenness but i didn't hold on to the memory long well the walk home was uneventful just to say that i noted that andria said nothing and looked anxious the entire time when i got home i uploaded the photos of onto my laptop, looking at them all with glee and interest. My favourites were of the cave and all its beauty. I flipped through the photos until I decided I should head to bed if I wanted to get out there early. As my computer was shutting down, I thought about what Andrea had said about the farmers making caves for water, and somehow I believed that was what it was for, but it seemed like it held a higher purpose, like it was for something much more important than just

some water and stones. I wanted it to be an amazing hideaway, where a murder had been committed, someone else's bone still lay there, waiting to be discovered. Goosepums popped up on my arms and legs, and I ran for the phone. Someone had to come with me,

and if not Andrea, then someone else. I had to share what I was going to find, and make sure everyone believe me. I found another friend, my daughter's best friend's mother, and asked if she wanted to go hiking. She gave me permission to use her name here, so, Garel, asked where we were going to.

I told her about the old path behind my house. There was a long pause before she quietly replied with, sure, and said she'd be over tomorrow at 9 a.m. As I lay in bed, staring at my ceiling fan, something reminded me that Andrea had been out of counselling for two years. contemplating this I turned to my side looking to the doorway I remember seeing my bag where I'd set it down but it was on its side I figured I'd knocked it over while closing the door not much after that I fell asleep but my sleep was dreamless carroll arrived a bit late 927 but she said her youngest son Aaron had the flu and she had to wait for her husband to get home to watch him while she was gone We set out for the cave at 10.39, and the trip was, once again, uneventful.

When we reached our destination, Carol said she wasn't feeling good, and was going to stay on the top of the ravine. I went down, though, venturing to the entrance of the cave. Well, I checked and double-checked to make sure that I brought my camera and flashlight that morning, whilst waiting for Carol to show. Before I got down and dirty, I shrug my backpack off and brought my headlamp, flashlight, and camera out of it. My cell phone was already in my pocket, though I doubted I'd need it. Carol would hear me if I yelled. I was sure of it. I stuck my head into the cave, listening carefully. I heard nothing but dropless dripping into the puddles and a small rush of water. I turned my flashlight on, aiming it into the cave. Well, the first view of the cave made my jaw drop. It was tiny, I mean, very tiny. Well, a good one of a good one. I could could see very far back, noticing that it either ended or took a sharp right.

I took my first few steps into the cave, ducking down as I began to crawl. My hands were on slick, dirty rocks, and the angle at which I had to crawl made my bones feel like crumpled paper. It was like being crouched on my feet, but my legs spread apart so I didn't get my boots into the water. I found loose stones and some mounds of dirt to manoeuvre my way into the cave. It was very uncomfortable and slow progress, but I managed to get a dip into the cave before I had to pause. I decided to turn off my flashlight and hook up my headlamp, since I'd be doing a lot of hand-grabbing instead of flashlight aiming. At this point I could turn around and see Carol outside, and the trees. I was maybe eight or nine feet into the cave. Took a few photos of

the plastered stone, slung my camera back around my neck, and the tree. I was maybe eight or nine feet into the cave. I took a few photos of the plastered stone, slung my camera back around my neck and then tried to duck under the dip in the rock, finding that I'd have to go prone to get under it. I sat there a moment, hands partially under the dip, and my head near the same place. I wondered if it was worth getting soaked for, and the floor was wet, water trickling under me. I thought about it for a moment, then remembered I was wearing a windbreaker. I tugged it off, sitting at where I'd have to crawl and quickly went under. It helped my flashlight and camera in front of me, trying to find a place to set them so I could move without being held down by them. There was a small crevice in the rock, and I shoved my flashlight into that, and hung my camera around the hilt of the light.

I squirmed, feeling my back grind against the ceiling, skin being torn up through my shirt. But the little struggle was over in seconds, and I was able to sit up on the other side. I paused a moment, turned. set a random stone on my windbreaker, so I'd have a way to crawl back through when I returned. I took my camera and flashlight, looking towards the way I'd just come. I could barely see the light coming from under the dip, and the darkness seemed to swallow me up if I looked away. I turned my headlamp to the shadows and started my awkward crouch crawl again, but at a higher level than before. More anxious than excited now, I headed on.

By now, I'd been in the cave for ten or fifteen minutes and was about fourteen feet inside. The further I went, the more silent it became. The sound of birds were silence, the ambience of the forest gone. All I could hear was trickling water, my laboured breathing, and the shifting of stone and sand beneath my feet. It was a thick silence whenever I stopped to catch my breath, a warm, gross, thick silence that made everything feel heavy. Oh, the cave smelled dank, like rotting leaves and rust. If rust even has a smell, but I feel like it's the only thing I can compare. Metallic smell too. It wasn't blood, I knew that. It was too pungent to be blood.

The smell made my nose burn. It smelled good in a really weird way. You know those smells that you know smell terrible, but you want to smell more. at about 27 feet in, I found that the cave was getting a bit taller, but less wide. I had to really squeeze my way through at some points and worm my way around tight spots. My back soon became sore and throbbing with a tiny sharp pain from all the scrapes and cuts from the stones. My hands and knees were covered with slime and dirt, but I didn't let it bother me. I was getting close to the turn in the cave and anxiety was soon beaten by excitement. though this wasn't a good thing.

Excitement wired me up and I tried to move faster towards the turn and I slipped a lot more than I'd done before. I always caught myself but there were a few close calls where I almost smashed my face into solid rock. And the cave widened so I could nearly stand up. It seemed to be about as big as the entrance here, maybe a bit thinner. 35 feet in and the turn was in front of me. I placed my hand on the corner and looked around it.

The cave got much bigger, and I was glad to get to stand up. I saw nothing other than a small pool of water and a steady stream coming from the roof, which was about five feet tall. The cave looked to be about seven or eight feet across, and piles of stones were stacked in the corners as if left by people who were working on the caves. I doubted it, though.

I raised my camera to take a few photos, when I heard the hissing, except it was much closer and louder than when I'd heard it outside the cave. It sounded like it was right behind me, which obviously scared the life out of me. I dropped my camera to my chest, and the straps came loose,

whipping around to face the trickling water. With a loud splash, the camera hit the pool of water and sunk God knows how far. I stood in silence for a moment, looking hard at the other side, side of the room. I glanced around her after a moment, my headlamp snapping one way and then the other, before I realized that I dropped the camera. I dove to my knees, thrusting my hand into the water without thinking. I went in almost up to my shoulder, but I still couldn't feel the bottom. I pulled

out, looking close to the water with my headlamp, trying to see to the bottom. But there was nothing. my eyes met my own in the reflection in the water and i sighed the noise didn't echo it just stayed right by my lips nothing in this cave echoed nothing just as i was about to turn away i saw a black shape behind my left shoulder my heart dropped and i quickly turned sitting on my rear nothing was there but a hulking tower of rocks which I tried to take photos of. I chuckled nervously, standing up, wiping my hands off and turn into the pool again.

I bit my lip, glad that I'd left my professional Canon camera at home, bringing my digital one instead. It was still $60, lost to the bottom of a probably endless pool. There was nothing to be done, though, so I turned the way I'd come, looking at the cave with developing anxiety.

I was unsure, about going any further after what it ensued. Forty feet in, I was having serious doubts about turning and going back, but especially at hissing. As I stood there and thought, I wondered if the hissing was some sort of snake or bat. It wasn't out of the question, but if there was some sort of snake in here,

it was near harmless. Bats, not as commonly in Maine as in other places, were just the same, were harmless. So I adjusted my headlamp and turned to the path that I hadn't walked on yet. The next tunnel wasn't as wide as the cave, but it was still just as tall, if not a bit taller. The walls were smoother and made more out of a lighter stone

than the rest of the cave. Just as I was about to step into this tunnel, my phone vibrated in my pocket. I fumbled for it, taking it out and shoving it to my ear. Carol was on the other end, a bit distorted. You've been gone for like an hour, what are you doing? I'm not that far away. It was hard to get this far, but I must be in like 40 or 50 feet.

I stepped further into the tunnel, looking deeper inside. Look, I think we're going to go past the cave and see what's above it. All right, I'll keep going here, I said, pausing to listen to what she was saying. Be careful, Camden. That cave could get confusing, or worse. Worse? Worse? The word struck me.

and I hadn't even thought about it before. I'll be careful about those loose stones and curvy paths, I said, with a slight chuckle, Carol didn't laugh back, instead, sighing. Look, I'll see you soon. I pulled my phone from my ear, stared at it and stuck it back in my pocket again. I pushed onward,

stepping over a few bigger rocks that had seemed to have fallen from the ceiling a long time ago. After another 30 minutes of uneventful, straight tunnel, I found myself in another one of those rooms with stones stacked around me. There was no water this time, but instead a strange patch of gravel near the top right corner. It was squareish, but sort of rounded, and on top of it was a rusted, ancient shovel, driven into the gravel. Well, I can't really say shovel. It was more like a piece of metal with very rotted, very broken wood holding a handle on the top.

Around the shovelhead was what looked like an old, played hat. He looked even older and more beat up than the shovel, with a few holes in it, dirt and grimes slicked across the entire surface. He had a hole where this shovel went through, as if it had been set on the shovel handle, but eventually rotted to the point where it couldn't hold its own weight up and had fallen. I stared at it for a long time, really hoping it wasn't what I thought it was. I turned from it quickly and hurried to the next tunnel, squeezing in and leaving the possible grave behind it. without any second thoughts.

The shovel must have been eight or so feet into the cave. Travelling down the next tunnel was harder than the last, since it seemed that the walls were either incomplete or damaged. There were a lot more rock piles here and dirt and even some remnants

of tools. I was becoming more and more confused, more and more anxious about what was going on. Andrea said the tunnel was complete, and it had been for at least two hundred years. The way things were beginning to look was like whomever had been working down here and left very quickly and very sudden.

The hissing suddenly came to mind and the shadow behind my reflection. Now, instead of being excited, I was becoming scared. There was something very much off about this place, and I was hating every second of it. But going back now would render me a scared little girl that had no stomach for adventure. So I pushed on down the corridor, wondering how long it would be before I came upon the next room, if there was a complete one. Before I could reach the hundred footmark, I swore I could hear a shuffling, or partially muffled by my footsteps. I stopped walking, turned and listened hard. There wasn't a sound.

My light pushed into the room that I'd come out of, which was a small hole in the distance. I took a step and then stopped. The shuffling started and then stopped. My stomach leaped and I turned and I broke into a run. I ran blindly, leaping over rocks and anything in my way. I dropped my flashlight in a stumble and didn't pause to grab it, but soon I'd become very tired and I'd slowed to a jog, turning my head over my shoulder to see the shadows moving behind me.

My heart leapt in my chest and I raced into the nose. next chamber, slamming my back against the wall, my headlamp quivering as I stared at the tunnel. Air pumped into my lungs so quickly that my throat began to burn. My ears had popped somewhere along the way, and they burned more than my throat. I clenched my stomach, tears pricking my eyes. I was scared, very, very scared. Even when my daughter didn't come home from second grade that one time I wasn't this scared there was something in this cave with me I couldn't get out I was trapped I felt a lump rising in my throat and I let myself cry sinking to the floor I cried hard and heavily hyperventilating and coughing I let out many wails of anguish sometimes

slapping the floor or kicking a loose stone after my fit I decided to try and call Carol to see if she could get me out somehow maybe find an end to the tunnel the phone was still in my pocket thankfully and i dialed her number quickly it rang four long times before she picked up camden where are you came back to the cave entrance an hour ago she said through the phone but i just started blabbering about what was going on or she was just silent throughout and she said quietly at the end i know I fell, deathly silence. The early noise was my soft breathing, which had calmed down quite a bit. Oh, I shouldn't have let you go in there, Camden.

I shouldn't have. Carol's voice began to crack then. Back when the tunnel was first being built, it was for what Andrea said it was for. Water irrigation. But something went terribly, terribly wrong. Carol, I started, while he rising quickly in my chest, as she was in. went on, trying to convince myself this wasn't real. But one of the men was killed. Nobody ever found out how, but they found him stripped naked, hands and feet cut off and head missing. They buried what

was left of him down there and continued digging. They uncovered something ungodly down there, Camden. But, well, it's always just been a story. Something to keep kids away from the tunnels. It was just a rumor and nobody believed it when they got older. Oh God, Captain. Oh, God. Captain. Oh, God, it's in there with you, and I let you go down. She began to cry heavily over the phone, while I just stared at the floor. He explained everything, the supposed grave, the incomplete caverns and forgotten tools. It's okay, Carol. Calm down, I'll be fine.

There has to be another way out of here, right? I said, trying to sound positive. I heard her hum and affirmative, and I sighed. All right. so I'll just need to get to the end and get out. It's going to be all right. Don't worry about me. I'll call if I need anything.

Okay. Please stay safe. And she hung up. I closed the phone and put it back in my pocket, sucking in the information as I leaned forward and turn my head to the tunnel. My heart was pounding and my stomach was tight as a knot. My head was whirring as I began a steady pace into the next tunnel. I must have been at least 150 feet in at this point. I went through several more caverns before I reached a sudden, jagged wall.

I looked at it in disbelief for a long time, wondering if I'd somehow gone down another path without noticing. But I couldn't have since it was leading the water all to one place. Just to be sure, I'd turn to go back, my light hitting a figure in the shadow. My foot froze mid-step, and I just stared at the figure. It looked human but was hunched over and had odd hands with fingers that split in half to be other fingers. Its chest was large, but its waist was smaller than my own hand. It was looking right at me with a very strange animal-like face. Well, that was all I could see before the familiar hissing sounded, and it disappeared.

It didn't run off. It didn't jump from the light. It just blinked out of existence. I stared at where it was for at least five minutes in absolute fear before I murmured to myself, my tongue like sandpaper. What the hell was that? I lit my lips, letting out a very shaky sigh, my stomach doing trapeze flips, and not in a good way.

But I took a step forward, making my way back the way I'd come, hopefully finding a second tunnel. Soon I found a fork, and I turned to the other side of it, walking down it at a faster pace than before. I kept picturing the creature that had been standing in the dark watching me. I hadn't seen its eyes, and I wondered if they were red or black or some other evil colour as I sped up my pace. I wondered if it had sharp teeth or dull ones, how many teeth it had, just to keep my mind

occupied as I broke into a light job. I could hear the shuffling behind it. me. Was it a person? Was it a monster? Was it even real? Was I just being delusional? I began to cry again as I started to run. I pushed the thoughts away as I heard the hiss, but it broke into an inhuman screech of rage. I began to sob loudly, screaming out whenever I nearly tripped or stumbled. I found myself running so fast that I could barely tell the difference between floor and walls, the colors melding together as I picked up speed. These loud footsteps got closer and closer,

the thud's making me wish more and more for a miracle. And that's why I'm alive today. A miracle. I saw a light. It was faint, but there was a light. My heart began to race, and I felt that need to cover my rear and get it away from the darkness.

I was sprinting towards the light, inspecting the source to find it was a tunnel that went slightly upwards. I threw my hands out as I came close to the entrance, and I flung myself at it. My chest hit the opening, and I began to scramble up. Whatever was behind me wasn't far behind, because I could hear it growling and hissing with frustration. I whimpered and sobbed, climbing madly up the hole, seeing fading sunlight above me.

A smile came to my face, but it greatly went away, turning to a wince of pain. My hands were cut and bleeding from the rocks, the knees of my pants shredded and blood seeping from them. But I was going to get out of this. Just as I threw my hand onto the ground, another hand wrapped around my foot, and it had a scream the sound echoing through the forest.

Bird scattered. I turned to look down, shaking my leg. There it was. giant bright red eyes glaring up at me, his teeth bared and grey tongue lolling in his mouth. It had pale hairless skin that sagged and looked like the skin of an elderly person, but dark grey and slick with an unloan liquid. It hissed at me, snapping its jaws. I took my other foot and kicked it directly in the face,

watching it writhe and snarl but not let go. I clawed at the ground above me, feeling myself being dragged, down back into the tunnels a rock was not loose and I dropped my hand in time to catch it I looked down at the creature which was still looking right at me with his huge eyes filled with hunger I lifted the rock above my head and slammed it down on the creature it let go of my leg and roared that not animal not human roar and tumble back into the cave I could hear his head smash against the floor and a rumbling sound come from that sickening cramp

Rocks down below began to fall, and I hauled myself out of the cave, quickly turning on my ass to see the creature trying to get out. I shook my head and watched a stone fall right in front of it. The rumbling continued for a few more minutes before everything fell silent. I must have sat there for hours, just staring at the partially exposed hole. My heart was still racing, and my leg felt like it was on fire. I looked down at it after I broke out of my days, seeing that the monster had penetrated my skin and had dug its claws into me.

I hadn't even noticed in my panic. There were nine bloody lines in my car from the monster's strange fingers. I leaned back and just let myself hit the ground, laying out in the middle of the woods, the song going down and my leg bleeding badly. But I just lay there, forgetting about everything for a moment, In the state of complete and utter shock I didn't move an inch. A noise snapped me out of my shock, though. A soft rustling noise.

I sat up and looked around. I then realized it was my phone, vibrating in my pocket. I took it out slowly, getting blood onto the screen as I accepted the call, and pressed the speaker to my ear. Camden! Camden! I've been calling you over and over since the cave collapsed. Oh, I was sure you were dead.

Oh, God! Damn. Carol yelled through the line, and I cringed, coughing. No, I'm fine. I'm outside a tunnel. I just barely made it out. I paused and then said, It's still in there. Carol didn't respond. There was a silence before I added. I'm bleeding. Some cuts on my hands and legs. I heard her sigh, and she said she'd start looking for me and to not move in. She hung up first, as she always did, and I stood limping over to a tree, sitting down in front of it and leaning against it. It was half an hour before Carol found me and helped me home. She took me to the hospital, and we said I'd had a run-in with some hungry feral dogs.

I was tested for rabies, found negative, and was stitched up and sent home. That was all five years ago. Today, Carol, Andrea and I are still friends. my leg has some thick scars and I moved to the other side of the river well I was told by locals after my accident about the story as Carol had said there was a group of farmers who needed to irrigate some water and make a tunnel they dug it first had a few cave-ins but lined the walls with stone and plastered it together with some old-aged tar

about halfway through the digging they uncovered something buried deep within their tunnels it was a chest that they'd opened thinking there was some ancient treasure found nothing in it but a piece of very old paper they attempted to read it and brought to life something that lived dormant inside there for probably a very long time they had no idea until that man was found without his head and extremities they continued to dig until they realized that they were being hunted by it so they dug the shaft that i escaped from and never returned and it said that there were seven workers and already fall, survived. Hey Ontario, come on down to BedmGM Casino and check out our newest exclusive.

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when they see a deserted place that their mind tells them should be full of people. The stark feeling of wrongness and creeping dread that is perhaps a holdover from our animalistic ancestors, meant to warn us when danger is fast approaching. I think most people are familiar with this. sensation, but few know that it has a name. Ginobsia. Now, Gynopsia is defined by the dictionary of obscure sorrows as the eerie, forlorn atmosphere of a place that's usually bustling with people, but is now abandoned and quiet. Like a school hallway in the evening, long after classes have let out,

an unlit office building over the weekend, the store display window after dark, or vacant fairgrounds totally devoid of anyone to enjoy them. Basically, it's a kind of emotional after image that creates a feeling of not just emptiness but a hyper emptiness the kind that seeps into the song in a way it could be described as a kind of haunting but rather than being haunted by some lingering supernatural malignancy one who experiences canopsia is haunted by what is not there but should be i've experienced kinopsia on several occasions throughout my comparatively short life but the one that stands out in my memory is the night my older brother Caleb and I found ourselves in a place called Pompeii, Indiana, after a long night of driving

aimlessly down some backroads high on psychedelics. Now I'm certain that many rational people will use my admission that I was using drugs that night as an excuse to dismiss the entire experience as a simple hallucination brought on by intoxication. That'd be fair. I may have been inclined to do the same were I in their shoes. But one cannot hallucinate the deep scars that now mark my body to this day, and I've yet to find a drug that could cause a person to simply cease to exist in the way I witnessed that night, but, well, I digress. You will not find Pompey, Indiana on any map, and Google searches of the town's name will best give you the address of a pizza place in Lake County, as well as a large serving of disappointment and palpable

frustration. Believe me, I've tried. My attempts to retrace the journey my brother and I took, and to pin down an exact geographic location of the town I very nearly lost my life in her so far proven to be futile. The most I can tell you is that it should be located somewhere about two and a half hours south of Indianapolis as far as I could tell. Well, when you're tripping on acid, it's hard to keep track of landmarks and road signs amidst the backdrop of ever-shifting kaleidoscopic hallucinations and euphoric sensations that demand your attention for hours at a time. Honestly, in hindsight, it's a miracle. that we didn't crash the car. I'd say we were lucky, but knowing where we ended up, that will be a lie.

It all started at our parents' house in Brownsburg, Indiana, around midnight. Our folks had just left for an out-of-state vacation that Caleb and I had declined to accompany them on, with the somewhat plausible excuse that neither of us could take the time off of work that would have been required to accompany them. In reality, he and I have been strategically planning to embrace the goal. an opportunity that was their absence to have a drug-fuelled night of excitement ever since we'd learned that they were going on a vacation some months prior our parents had barely made it out of the driveway and down the dimly lit street before Caleb dashed up to his room on the second floor of our three-story house and quickly returned with what looked to be a wad of aluminum foil and a

mischievous twinkle in his eyes oh man bro it's gonna be so fucking sweet he'd said He then wasted no time placing the ward on the kitchen counter, and unwrapping it with care, revealing what looked like neatly cut little paper squares that were small enough to fit on the tip of a finger. I, being the younger of the two of us, and at the time woefully inexperienced in the world of controlled substances, felt a mixture of exhilaration and nervousness,

as Caleb instructed me to take one of the paper squares from the foil and place it under my tongue, only to be very underwhelmed by the lack of any detectable changes, in my perceptions after the first couple of minutes. I don't feel anything, Caleb. Are you sure your guy didn't sell you bullshit? I asked him, with concern and impatience, seeping into my voice.

Caleb chuckled as if I'd said something extremely childish before reassuring me. Give it time. The chemicals take a while to reach the brain. How will I know when it's working? Trust me. You all know. I took him at his word

and we spent the next 45 minutes or so just hanging out in our spacious living room, flipping absent-mindedly through channels on the TV, waiting for the acid to work its magic. When I made the suggestion that I'd regret for the rest of my natural life. I'm hungry, man. Why do we go down the street real quick

and grab something to eat before we're both too high to function? Caleb, being the only one out of the two of us with the license and a car, scratched his head as if weighing the price, and cons of the idea before he concede it with a shrug. Sure, as long as it's just down the street and back, we should be okay. My vision was starting to vibrate at this point, and any notion of how dangerous getting into a car in the state we were in was chased away by the marvellous visions that had begun dancing before my eyes. After a few minutes of fumbling around, through

the fastly developing wonderland that was forming around us for our coats, shoes, and Caleb's keys, Both of us somewhat clumsily loaded ourselves into Caleb Silvarado, pulled out of the driveway and proceeded down the street toward a string of local fast-food places at a languid pace. Well, it's worth mentioning at this part of my story that Caleb had a terrible sense of direction, one that I, and practically everybody that knew him, teased him for relentlessly.

He'd often get lost driving to the houses of friends that lived just a few blocks over, while this, coupled with the fact that both of us were now tripping balls on acid, and it should come as no surprise that Caleb somehow managed to completely pass the fast few joints and steer us onto the highway. We were both so far gone that we must have driven for a good 20 minutes before either of us realized that we were lost. Once we did, we were basically the blind leading the blind, both of us arguing back and forth about which turn to make and which exit to use, when neither of us really had any idea of where the hell

we were going. It wasn't all bad to tell you the truth. I mean, in some ways, it was a lot of fun. A short trip to get fast food had become an all-out, the psychedelic adventure through the open fields and winding country roads of our little slice of the Midwest. We laughed, joked, and argued, and debated with one another about all manner of things while we looked in awe at the sights and sensations the drug we both taken was producing for us. Eventually, though, as it became clear to both of us, that we were thorough. already lost with the way back to the house nowhere in sight. We agreed that it would be best to stop somewhere and get our bearings, maybe even get a hotel for the night, until we were

clear-minded enough to find our way back home, even though the prospect of trying to have normal social interactions with anyone, given how high we both were, seemed like a herculean task. And that was when I first noticed the ashes that fell from the otherwise clear summer sky like snow i dismissed it as just another hallucination at first gradually though as it's to collect on the windshield and obstruct our vision to the point where Caleb had to turn on his windshield wipers so he could drive safely i realized that it was real i turned to Caleb for verification of this on the off chance that i was just hallucinating hey man do you see that? Yeah, it's really weird. Yeah, totally weird. After driving for another few miles down the

road through the strangest weather phenomenon either of us had ever experienced, we saw a large, weathered old sign in the distance that was all faded paint and rotting wood that read, Welcome to Pompeii, Indiana, in big, bold letters, overlooking what seemed to be a decent-sized town complete with a motel, a gas station, the town hall, the diner, a school. A few rows of old-looking houses here and there, and what from the distance looked like an old-school drive-in movie theatre, all covered in a slowly growing blanket of ashes. It wasn't exactly inviting, but any port will do in a storm, as the saying goes, so we decided to check it out. If a town could ever be accurately compared to a recently hollowed-out corpse, then Pompey would definitely be the

perfect candidate for that comparison. Everywhere we looked, we were confronted by a complete and utter lack of any noticeable signs of human life, or any life at all for that matter. Despite the fact that in contrast to the weathered old sign that had welcomed us in, nothing we saw looked particularly old or dilapidated at all. In fact, some of the machines and appliances left scattered around the apparently abandoned buildings show clear signs of recent use. We stopped at the gas station first to fill up and grab some snacks

Since neither of us had eaten anything since our ill-fated journey had begun And what we saw once we passed through the open glass double doors and made our way inside was Equal parts confusing and unsettling Directly in front of us was a row of about six or so commercial coffee pots that had all still had steam rising out of their tops As if freshly brewed Off the left was the checkout counter where the register drawer stood open and a pack of cigarettes lay on its side next to it, as if whoever had been working the counter had just set them down in the middle of ringing them up and just left without even

bothering to close the draw. The air pump out in the parking lot was running, although there were cars anywhere in sight, and since those machines generally tend to run for only about a few minutes at most after someone puts enough quarters in it, logically speaking someone had to have turned it on in the last few minutes. but there were no visible signs of anyone that I could see nor were there any obvious clues to where the people who had to have lived there had gone no tracks in the ash that blanketed the ground

no hastily handwritten notes saying out to lunch or offering any kind of explanation to where the fuck everyone was it was just deafening silence and a profound feeling of isolation it wasn't just the gas station either everywhere we looked the outcome was the same the diner was all but abandoned its retro interior clearly meant to replicate the atmosphere of a nineteen fifty's burger joint it was totally barren no people anywhere to be seen though almost every single table was loaded with at least five or six plates of food apiece all of which were still warm to the touch as if the place had been packed with families getting ready to enjoy a hearty evening meal with one another just a few moments earlier before they just left and went some somehow. Just like at the gas station, we could see no cars in sight.

We stopped for a moment to help ourselves to a few plates of the abandoned meals before checking out a few of the other buildings, namely the derelict motel in a few of the houses, only to find more of the same. At this point in our journey, the hallucinogenic effects of the acid we'd taken was beginning to work against Caleb and I. Our feelings of carefree foolishness and you've

had morphed into unease and steadily growing paranoia, and the acid was only amplifying that. Everywhere I looked I saw shadows moving in the periphery of my vision, but whenever I turned to confront them, they'd be gone. I could feel sweats starting to gather on my forehead, and a cold, tingling feelings start to crawl up the small of my back. Caleb wasn't doing much better. I could see him visibly shaking and watch his eyes dart from side to side in rapid, panicky movements as he pays back and forth in the empty motel parking lot where both of us now stood next to the Park Silverado, trying to figure out what to do next. His face had begun to contort and wilt, almost like it was melting off of his head the longer I stood and stared at him. I had to

verbally remind myself that his face only looked that way because I was on drugs, but, well, The more I repeated it to myself, the more it sounded like a lie. Calm down. You're tripping. Everything's fine. Everything's fine. I repeat it to myself like a prayer. Where the fuck is everyone? Caleb had yelled in transparent frustration, now looking only vaguely recognizable as himself to my eyes. His normally unkempt sandy blonde hair now look blue and tattered, and his head had swelled to at least twice. its regular size. His mouth was lopsided and only a single glassy eye could be seen on his now

horribly distorted face. I must have been gawking at him with wide-eyed terror because he stopped pacing for a minute to see what was up with me. Hey, you're okay? Do I have something on my face? I bit backly urged to tell him he looked like a freaking alien out of one of those low-budget 80s horror movies and did my best respond with coherent sentences. No, you're fine. I'm just really fucking hired. I don't want to be here. Well, neither do I.

Fuck this, man. Let's just get the hell out of here. Literally anywhere would be better than here. Agreed. And with that, we hop back into the Silverado and gunned down the road, back towards the highway, maintaining a very tense silence between the two of us as we went. Neither of us could really put into wood.

words at that time, but we felt in our bones that something was very off about that place. The ashes that fell from the sky had ceased gently falling like snow and now whirled around the truck-like winds of a blizzard, devouring the highway in front of us, and even after Caleb had turned his brights on her, we could only see maybe a few feet of road in front of us. We didn't care. We just wanted to get out of that place as fast as we could. and we didn't make turns and we sure a shit didn't turn around I'm sure of it Yet after about 15 minutes or so of gunning it down the highway as fast as we could

We were once again face to face with that decrepit Rotting old sign that read Welcome back to Pompeii, Indiana Without skipping a beat Caleb whipped the truck around and took off in the opposite direction Only to have the same thing happen again and another time after that. After we found ourselves in front of that goddamn sign for the fifth time,

I remember pounding my fist against the dash out of sheer frustration before I turned and started screaming at my brother. What the fuck is wrong with you? You have one job, Caleb. Let's get us the fuck out of here. Why is that so freaking hard? Caleb didn't respond to me right away. He just sat there staring at the eroded,

ancient-looking sign with an expression of pure bewilderment. His face looked relatively normal to me now, which made no sense given that he told me that the acid we took usually lasted about nine hours on average, and there was simply no way that nine hours have passed already. I don't know. This was all he could manage to say. That was when I noticed the drive-in movie theatre in the distance, or more specifically that there seemed to be a movie playing on the towering projection screen. It was almost impossible to make out what was playing from that distance, but regardless, the sight filled me with a desperate kind of hope, because, after all, if a movie was playing, that meant someone had to be down there working the projector, and maybe that someone

can tell us what the hell was going on. Hey, there's a movie playing down there, I said, pointing to the driving. Caleb followed my finger with his gaze down to the drive-in and at the movie playing on the screen before looking back at me with a confused look. So? What do you mean? So, if there's a movie play and then there have to be people down there? We can't be sure of that.

Well, do you have any better ideas about what we should do? I'll tell you what we should do. We should stay the fuck away from that town. This is beyond creepy. do what sit here forever there could be someone down there who could help us Caleb conceded with a frown oh god I don't like this bro I don't like this at all he then put the truck back into drive and reluctantly took us back through the deserted streets of Pompeii towards the theatre and since I can say with confidence that I was totally

clear-minded at this point I noticed small details here and there that I'd totally overlooked before. When we passed the empty church building, for instance, I saw a rather ominous message scrawled on the sidewalk just outside the main entrance that read. Here we were deceived. The more I looked around, the more I found that similar messages have been scrawled along the entranceways and sidewalks of several places all around town.

One such message inscribed along the sidewalk that boarded the diner read. here we went unnourished. Yet another that I saw a written outside of the town hall read. Here we were betrayed, but the message that was easily the most unsettling out of all the ones I saw was the one scrawled over the faded sign over the entrance to the drive in itself that read. Here we bore witness.

The gate itself hung open and offered an unobstructed path into the theatre. It seemed to consist of a large open parking area that, unlike virtually anywhere else in town, was packed with cars from end to end, and what looked like some sort of concession stand located roughly at its centre. We could see the dim silver light of the projector, as it filled the enormous screen at the northernmost end of the driving, with what looked like an old-fashioned black-and-white movie

that hadn't seemed to have progressed past its opening credits. names of actors and companies I'd never heard of scrolled slowly down the length of the screen before the movie opened to a scene of an idyllic-looking midwestern town overlooked by a starry night sky that, well, in some ways, resembled the one we now found ourselves in.

Before I could turn to Caleb and discuss what we should have done next, the screeching static of the Silverado's radio pierced the silence that prevailed between the two of us before it morphed into what we assumed was the radio that accompanied the movie. At first it was this really corny sounding jingle, the likes of which you'd expect to see on an old commercial. Then it abruptly became a loud crashing sound as one of the stars

that graced that beautiful night sky on the screen fell to earth below and made a large crater in the woods just outside of the town. The scene then shifted to a young boy who looked to be around high school age, walking through those same woods alone in the daytime. He wandered around aimlessly until he happened upon the crater, which had by then been filled up to the edges with a strange viscous black liquid. The boy then sat along the edge of the pool, regarding it curiously, as if debating with himself about whether or not he wanted to touch it, when a stream of bubbles rose up to the pool centre and started to pop one after the other, and each pop bubble carried with it a word from a voice that sounded remarkably human, almost like that of a young girl.

Hello? Who are you? the voice asked. Each syllable sounded strained and unnatural, as if whatever was making them had not quite mastered human speech. The boy, for his part, seemed shocked at first, but his shock quickly changed into rapt fascination, and he started talking back. Hello, I'm Ronnie, he said. Ronnie, the voice echoed. Who are you? I am lost.

Lost. The boy named Ronnie repeated, sounding confused. Lost. I am lost. I want to go home. Can I help? Small. I'm too small.

I must grow. you must grow ronnie repeated his face suddenly becoming vacant and expressionless he then turned and walked in the opposite direction back towards town repeating she must grow she must grow to himself like a mantra as he and then changed again this time showing ronny and another boy he was approximately the same age walking through the same woods toward the pool it's just just this way ronnie said his voice distant and unnatural which didn't seem to be lost on the other boy sure ronnie whatever you say you're feeling okay you sound weird i'm fine we're almost there boy didn't seem reassured but went along regardless when the pair finally came upon the pool once again ronny gestured to it with a veneration the other boy seemed to think it was mesmerizing. He knelt by the edge and watched the bubbling black liquid with wide-eyed

fascination while Ronnie slowly and subtly maneuvered behind him. This is so cool, Ronnie. What is it? A boy was barely able to utter the word it before Ronnie pushed him in with all the force he could muster, and upon making physical contact with the liquid, the other boy led out a heart-breaking scream. Oily black tendrils reached up from the depths of the pool. and constricted around him like pythons. You could hear the sickening sound of his bones snapping into the tendrils began pulling him down slowly but surely. He thrashed around and cried out desperately for his friend to help him.

But Ronnie remained still and just watched the horror unfolding in front of him with that same vacant, dispassionate look in his eyes. She must grow, he said. Eventually the other boy vanished beneath the little. liquid completely and the pool began to expand ever so slightly the black ooze flowing past its edges no more words were spoken aloud between Ronnie and the entity inside the pool but he seemed to be aware of its will nonetheless the next few scenes played out in a similar fashion Ronnie luring hapless victims

to their inevitable fates in the woods and the pool steadily expanding with each new sacrifice Before long the pool had become a large pond and not long after that a small lake. As it grew it devoured the plant life it came into contact with voraciously. Trees and other vegetation that were unfortunate enough to be in its path, withered and died almost before my eyes, so I watched that horrible black ooze creep ever closer to the town itself. Though it was never explicitly stated by any of the characters, I got the distinct impression after the place.

pool had expanded past a certain point, the entity no longer needed to rely on Ronnie for sustenance. Before long, others began to do its bidding as well. In one scene a pastor of the local church let his day's congregation into the dying woods and the edge of the black ooze for baptism, then much them all die in the depths of that murky blackness one after another, before walking into the pool himself with the most contented smile across his face as he did. In yet another scene, I couldn't bring myself to watch all the way through. A school bus driver veers off the road with a look of total vacancy in his eyes.

It puts his foot to the gas as he drives towards the woods, with reckless abandon and a busload of terrified kids. The film reached its climax when open conflict broke out between a group of townspeople who seemed to have retained their minds and those that had fallen under the sway of the voice from the pool. The conflict had been short and bloody, and although the townspeople had fought like cornered animals, they were ultimately subdued and corralled like livestock by their possessed neighbours.

I scarcely have the worst to describe the cold and detached depravity I witnessed on that screen. I've never considered myself the squeamish type, and I'd seen a lot of documentaries about things like the Holocaust in the Rwandan genocide in school growing up, so I wasn't totally unfamiliar with the concept of one group of humans setting out to systematically exterminate another. but what I saw on that screen was not like those events at all. There was no anger and no malice in it,

no zealous demagogue spewing hateful rhetoric. The day's servants of the alien entity carried out their atrocity in near total silence. They didn't even speak to each other. One by one they either bound people, they'd likely known their whole lives with duct tape and ropes, scavenged from around town, and dragged them out into the woods completely oblivious to their pain cries. and desperate pleas for mercy, or they simply beat them until they could no longer resist.

In one instance, I saw a large man break the legs of a woman who could easily have been in her 80s before he hoisted her over his shoulder and carried her off into the blackness. In another, I saw a woman strangling a small girl that was her spitting image into unconsciousness, and then carrying her limp form to the woods. Once everyone had been gathered up and brought to the edge of that liquid abyss, that had swelled to far beyond its original size, what I can only describe as a kind of grotesque ritual took place. The elderly and infirm were pushed in first, then came the men, afterward the women, until only the children remained. I thought that the children would

meet the same awful fate, only to be temporarily relieved when that didn't happen. Instead, I winished each and every one of the possessed people walk into the ooze, and perish, with joyous smiles painted on their dazed faces, leaving the children of the town bound and alone for several moments, before the boy caught Ronnie emerge from the depths of the ooze and walked out onto the land, looking simultaneously younger and also ageless. The dark liquid of the pool fell from his eyelids and ran down his cheeks like teardrops, and a chillingly warm smile stretched across his freckled face. He spoke to the terrified little ones in a voice that was his own, and at the same time not. Hello, are you lost? Do you want to go home? He asked. Common sense dictated

that he was speaking to the children on the screen, but the angle of the camera made it seem as though he was speaking to me directly, and that made my blood run cold. The children's response to his question came in the form of gargled cries and terrified wines. Don't be afraid, little ones. We'll all go home soon. Look how she has grown. He said as he turned to the ooze-filled crater with his arms outstretched as that thing slowly rose out of the pit. I've tried so hard to purge the image from my mind over the years with drugs, booze, and even blunt-forced trauma, but none of it could expel the image of those great black wings

that eclips the moon and the stars. No amount of physical trauma could exercise the sight of its ten heads and seven horns, each bellowing black ash and fire into the sky. Through Ronnie, I heard it speak, each and every one of its blasphemous names, each more terrible than the last. I heard it speak of its home in the black void beyond the stars

where all light goes to die, of the utter apathy of God and the complete meaningless of my own existence. At that point, I lost conscious awareness that I was watching just a movie and I heard myself scream.

Panic set in and I clawed frantically at the truck's door only to find that Caleb had locked it. In the same instant that I realized this, I felt his hand on my shoulder, and I whipped around to see a serene, peaceful look on his face as black tears fell down his cheeks.

It's all right, brother. We're lost no more. It's time to go home. He said in that voice that was not his own as he wrapped his hands around my neck. I struggled against his grip but couldn't break free through the haziness of my oxygen-deprived brain. I could see Caleb's skin begin to bubble and blister as if it had been exposed to unimaginably

high temperatures before I saw my brother erupt into blue flames all while keeping that same serene expression on his face as he began to burn away. Out of sheer strength brought on by mortal terror I threw him off of me, busted the passenger window with my elbow and scrambled out and away from the silverado just as the entire thing burst into flames. then looked on in horror as my brother burned away into nothingness so that not even a body remained just the burned-out husk of a vehicle and an empty feeling of despair the unnatural storm of ashes that dogdust throughout this ill-fated journey had whipped up to unbelievable speeds at this point pelting my skin and stinging my eyes though i hardly noticed it in truth i felt i was going to die

and i was okay with it i didn't want to be in that awful place alone. I laid on the cold asphalt and gravel, waiting for deaths embrace, only to find myself in an unfamiliar hospital bed when I next open my eyes. Over the next several days, I'd learned that I'd been found unconscious on the side of the highway by a passing trucker who'd, in turn, caught the police and got me to a hospital. After I was awake and coherent enough to tell the doctors who I was, and my family's contact information, my family's contact information, my their parents soon rushed over and nearly pulled me out of the bed when they embraced me. I was as grateful to see them as they were to see me.

They brought with them questions I really didn't know how to answer. Where did you go? What happened to you? And then, of course, the most painful question of them all. Where is Caleb? I had no words to form an answer, and I doubt they would have believed me if I did anyway. My silence told them, enough.

I can still hear my mother's pain sobs that penetrated the thin walls of my room from outside in the hallway, and my father's softly spoken reassurances that did no real good. Eventually the police came by to ask very similar questions, and they wouldn't take silence for an answer. The detective, who I spoke with, was a reserved and professional man who was very careful with his words, but I could tell that he didn't believe me when I told him that I had no recollection, of what had happened to me in Caleb that night. It'd be better for you in the long run,

if you'd told the whole truth, sir, he'd told me. I knew that the whole truth would likely just land me in a mental wall, maybe even jail, and so I said nothing. Without any concrete evidence of foul play, the police eventually eased off of me. That didn't stop the rumours and the gossip around town. Oh, the cold stairs I got from people I passed on the streets. In the absence of a true telling of events, it's human nature to construct your own.

And the version of events that ended up circulating around town was that I'd murdered Caleb over drugs, or that maybe he'd overdosed on something, and I'd left him to die. None of that was true, but people believed it and treated me accordingly. I was effectively a total pariah by the end of the month. That wasn't the worst of it, though. Those things all paled in comparison to the feeling I felt whenever I had walked by Caleb's empty room, which in the months and years following his death, had become a kind of shrine to his memory.

Whenever I look at his room now, I know what it is to be haunted. Real hauntings don't come from wraiths or spirits, but from memories and the knowledge that someone who should be there is not. That detective still comes around every now and again to check on me, and to ask if I'm ready to talk, though I always tell him that I have nothing to say. In a strange way he's become like my only friend. I think I may tell him everything one day

when I have nothing else to lose and I can hold on to this thing no longer. There is no happy ending to my story, only a plea that you cherish those you love because you never know when they'll be gone from the world forever and a warning that if you ever find yourself in Pompey, Indiana, for the love of God, stay away from the theatre. Stay away from the late-night

creature feature. The last drive in the theatre I ever visited. This is the story of a monster. My name's Harold Brown. I'm six foot one built like a Viking, short and thick tree-trunk legs, huge torso, big paunch, thick blonde hair, blue eyes, hair everywhere, and gigantic arms cap by ham-sized fists. Suffice to say, when I go to Renaissance fairs, it's always as William Wallace. I go to a university in California, one of the last good ones, a hidden gem, really. And five months ago, I met my girlfriend, Cassandra. How we met is the start of the start of the of at once dreams and nightmares. I was behind her in a drive-thru late at night and saw some guy climb into her cup. I followed after her, frantically honking and flashing my brikes to get her

attention, but she evaded me, not knowing of the monster hiding behind her. Because I grew up on the farms and ranches surrounding this town, I quickly located the back roads they had gone down and called in the police. Cassandra was still alive. I met with her again after she was released from the hospital. Yeah. I knew I had to ask her out after the cops tried to take the bag of fast food that was in her car for evidence, and she ferociously snatched it back and mauled the burger in half a minute, in spite of being stark as red as a tomato from head to toe,

thanks to the bleach she'd been dunked in by that psycho. Coffee, movies. A great hole in the war restaurants I know around town, none of which were drive-through since she'd officially sworn off of them and whatever else a pair of students on a shoestring budget could manage her cascade of wine-red hair

which reminded me of my field of study a mother of pearl skin and her vibrant blue eyes or marked a young woman who knew her way around an animal cell I'd regale her with talk of wine and winemaking geekery.

The time I was shot while working as a security guard at the Santa Barbara County Fair and Expo, and books I grew up with. Star Wars' expanded universe. Raptor Red and Snow Crash, if you must know. And she would bless my ears with descriptions of cellular mitosis. Star Trek, which got her into science

because Mr. Spock's her a hero. Oh, and Mystery Science Theatre, 3,000. I was already a fan, but she helped me truly appreciate the skits in between the movie segments. She'd call me her big Viking wolf. I call her my little Spitfire Fox. To be honest, I probably wouldn't have met

or talk to her or any of the girl there at that university. It's not that I'm shy. Of the Myers-Briggs personality types, I'm an INFJ, introverted, intuitive, feeling, judging. The rarest of them all. Great privacy, but great empathy. A healer, a crowd-pleaser,

but someone preferring their alone time and their own headspace. But more than just that, I struggle with feelings of intense self-hatred, none of which manifest on the surface because my nurturing nature doesn't want to spread that around. How do I find validation? Through helping others. Counseling helped and probably save my life.

that self-hatred still pops up. All of it prompted by a traumatic three years when I was nine at the hands of an ex-sister-in-law. But for now, these days, I'd managed to find a wonderful young woman who saw past my imperfections to the person under the carefully constructed mask. Dating bliss at last. He had to be careful, though. In our town there's a significant homeless population and some gangs too. Most of the latter didn't bother with students, unless someone was behind on a drug tab, but most students' vices were beer and video games, and the former, well, they were usually pretty chill. There's even a mural of one, dubbed the Pirates, thanks to his eyepatch and haggard demeanour. Every time a student would see him, they'd pump a fist and shout,

Ah, matey! And the pirate would shout, Ar, matey, back. nice guy Lois does he quits beer And if you buy him a drink or sandwich He'll regale you with stories from his time working on a freight ship That are so outlandish and so ridiculous They absolutely must be true Unicorn Man

So named for the single dreadlots sticking up from his head at all times He was a professor at the university Until something he was researching just broke his mind The cop named because of the tattered police shirt and cop-hattie wore was an abandoned down syndrome baby but the man could be trusted to walk women safely home on dark and frightening nights

real class act the cop then there's some of the unsafe ones the Martian who thinks aliens are going to invade pig pen who's only held together by all the parasites he carries holding hands and tapeworm there was a dried-up,

crap-spattered tail sticking out of his hands that's composed of the half-dead tapeworms dangling out of him and keeps yelling about how his son was taken by polar bears. He was just a student that cracked from pressure and never went home. He'd become violent towards anyone with a small dog or cat, demanding they give him his son back, spend a night in jail. Once upon a time,

we had institutions that helped these people. But because a relative few psychos turned them into their own personal Dr. Mengler playgrounds, they mostly got closed out. Things everywhere would have been different if these folks got the help they needed. Butts, well, I digress. One evening, when we'd finished our studies over a plate of tequitos and guacamole that had grown cold and limp and dark green, respectively, Cassandra looked out from her book and shut it with a heavy thud.

Let's go see a movie, she exclaimed, grinning that adorable way that she did. Oh, as long as it's not the Star Wars prequel, I grinned. She scoffed, as if you even had to say it. After what Jar Jar Abrams did to Star Trek, I'm not wasting time on that, who we. See? Dream Woman. Okay, so, um, how about Amp Man? I asked. Hoof, I haven't seen much in way of the moment. Marvel movies. She shrugged.

Got one you want to see, then? I asked as I stood up, slipping my huge work boots on. The boots, Cassandra, joke, could be used as lifeboats in the event of a catastrophic floods. I don't know. What do you want to see? she asked, twirling a strand of that red hair around a finger. Very helpful, Foxy. Um, well, Mad Max Fury Road sounds like fun, I supplied. She tilted her head in thoughts. I'd shown her all three movies after I discovered our mutual love of fallout, and she liked Thunderdome the most. I'm more of a road warrior fan myself.

Okay, Fury Road it is, she chirped. It was wonderful to see her cheering and smiling like this. She was shaking and parodied the first month after her ordeal, but all time, dates, and distracting schoolwork and recreation has got a way of helping you forget the horrors that have been visited of a honi. I checked the listings on my phone, and the only showing that would conclude at a civilised time

was at a drive-in theatre. It had been in town for as long as anyone could remember, near a trailer park. Every Sunday there be a swap meet there, and on occasion we pay a visit to see what second-hand goodies we could find. I mentioned this, and Cassandra hesitated, biting her lip anxiously.

Hey, it's all right. all right. We can wait for another show in. We'll find another movie, I said with a smile, scratching my fingers up and down her back the way she liked. No. No, it's okay. Let's go. I shouldn't let some scary crap defy me for the rest of my life. She shot to her feet, a fist melodramatically thrust in the air. God, what a dork. What a beautiful, wonderful dog. Taking my truck, we stopped at a gas station on the way to grab snacks, since movie theatre's snack prices, usually somewhere between kidney and first-born child. But, at Cassandra's insistence, we got fresh popcorn from the concession stand. I've got to support the local

business after all. Fortunately, we like our popcorn the same way, drenched in that fluid they somehow get away with calling butter and generously salted to the point that the side of the torso-sized tub of pot kernels caused our arteries to shrivel up like twigs. Armed with our gas station candy, sodas and popcorn, we drove to a spot, tune the radio to the drive-in frequency and relaxed. Ahead of us, another couple in a little blue Prius were watching, frequently tearing themselves away to steal kisses while the cocker spaniel dog in the back stole mouthfuls of popcorn. Well, I relaxed.

Cessandra kept reaching into her purse to feel the comforting grip of her taser. The same one that had ended the life of her would-be murderer. She eventually settled down, sample some popcorn, nibbled on her Snickers bar and sipped at her soda-pop. The film was extremely exciting, and it drew Cassandra in. I kept looking over at her, making sure she felt comfortable and was enjoying herself. That was more important to me than the same. film around the time max blew up the guy decked out in ammo oh i want that hat now by the way the

intermission came 15 minutes to get out of the car relax get a snack or use the facilities cassandra needed the latter most before asking me to go with her i offered to escort her myself making sure i locked my truck smiling reassuringly at her i took her along to the restrooms One of these brick affairs set up near the same building they kept the projectors in and sold concessions from. I waited outside and surveyed the dark landscape of cards, watching snacks and drinks dance invitingly on the screen. Yeah, real subtle. I leaned against the bricks near the women's restroom entrance, gazing up at the stars. You can make out most of them, given the small size of the towns around here.

I heard jingling and clicking. approaching from the drive-thru and glanced down seeing the dog that popcorn-stealing cuck aspaniel trotting along leash trailing behind it oh looks like we got a jail-breaker I exclaimed with a laugh bringing my giant boot down on the leash before leaning down to seize it let's get you about your folks silly boy I walked the dog back towards our spot and noticed the car ahead of my truck had its driver door wide open and was completely empty. I glanced towards the concession stand, spotting a few people, but none of them looked like the couple from the car. I started to walk towards it. When the dog became immediately agitated,

barking, growling and making a real fuss. Easy now, buddy, it's all right. I consoled the unhappy cano. I'm sure they're okay. That sounded like a hollow lie even to myself. I slowly rounded the back of the couple's car and peered into the cabin. It was completely dark. So I fished out my phone and turned on the flashlight, shining it into the park Prius. Dark, red, soaking the upholstery and the console. I saw a bloody hand sticking out from under the car, and the dog led out a mournful whimper. I scooped him up under one arm and scrambled like the devil himself when nipping at my heels, darting back to the concession stand. A banged a fist on the door to the women's restroom.

Occupied? Cassandra snarved from inside. Give me a minute. Cassie, baby. Lock the door in there. Don't unlock it. I bellowed and staggered to the concession stand, scaring the crap out of the poor, acne-riddled freshmen with dark circles under his eyes, manning the place.

Holy shit, dude! Yelped. Bloodshot eyes widening in surprise. Listen. Call the police. Someone's been hurt. I yelled. He stared at me for a few moments. Jaw slapped. Oh, what?

A skeptical mumble struggled its way from his mouth. Murder. Call, cops. Freakin' now, I bellowed, banging my fist on the counter for emphasis. Then ran all the way back to the truck, panting hard. I tossed the dog into the back and snatched Cassandra's taser from her purse. I spun around just in time to see a dirty, haggard face framed by stringy, greasy hair, and a pair of venomously angry, dark brown eyes boring into mine. I got a half second to let out a startled shell before I felt a cold impact in my abdomen, accompanied by rigid stiffness.

It was tapeworm, and he just buried an old kitchen knife in my belly. I could tell it had penetrated abdominal muscles, but where the knife wound up, it was mostly adipose that was pierced. And the thick shall inherit the earth. I'm a gentle saw by nature, and can count on one hand the number of fights I've been in. One time when I was in 4-H, one more thing I have in common with Cassie, and I held off a gang of kids from beating up my little brother.

At Boy Scout camp, I got into a fight with a big lummox who picked on me excessively. Thirdly, I was shot in the torso by an idiot punk with his ear. idiot girlfriend because they wanted to get into the fair after closing out. I did the same thing when stabbed that I did when shocked. I became enraged, ever deep-seated rage issue stemming from a ruined childhood at the hands of the ex-sistering-law, the one I mentioned earlier, who tortured me whenever no one was around. From between when I was nine years old to when I was 12, when my brother divorced her for unrelated reasons well I never told anyone what happened save for the counsellors and frankly that's a lengthy story for another time I always found

outlets for that rage so it never controlled me games a little time at the sharpshooting range a little kickboxing invented perfectly but when this poor broken and delusional man stabbed me it was something he immediately regretted my vision reddened and i leap forward the same way he had after that chisel jaw-pung put a bullet in me i brought my fists down on him muscle-toned from long hours on the farm and ranch i grew up on burning as i struck him across the face as he screamed son get out the truck run away boy get help he cried to the cocker spaniel whose owners he'd butchered in a delusional stupor as i rained one blow after another down on him You know that little bit of restraint you have? That restraint that keeps you from putting your full potential strength into a blow. That well-trained part of your super ego that has told you it's not good to hit people.

Well, in that moment, as in the three fights of my life before, that restraint fell away as I broke his jaw, cracked his cheekbone, felt his ribs crack under my unrelenting and brutal assault, as all the built-up rage, frustration and grief inside me, poured out into this man. Somewhere in all this frame, the knife had come out of me and I was bleeding all over.

By the time the police arrived, I was standing over him and was bringing a size 13 triple E work boot down on his femur, snapping it like a toothpick. All the while, the movie continued. Seems a kid in the booth was too shaken to think to turn it off.

And while in Morton Joe was driving his souped-up hot rod on the big screen. The rest of the drive-in's patrons watched on, oblivious to the mayhem happening less than a hundred feet away. The cops shone their light on me. I heard them bellow at me to stop, and when I looked up at them, the rage burned still. And according to the dash cam footage I later saw, thanks to a friend of the family in the police department, they had just cause to believe I was about to attack them. This distraction, though, was enough for my gentle sense. signs. What I hope is my real self, to grab the reins again. The adrenaline rush ebbed,

and after taking one step, my strength left me, like the blood of mine pulled around my feet. I collapsed. I have faint memories of Cassandra walking alongside the gurney that the paramedics had managed to get my giant self onto, holding my hands. She caught me her warrior, her protector, her night in shining armour. Please, don't call me those things. She rode with me to the hospital, and I woke up to her and my family gathered around. Cassie's dormmates were even there.

Nicole, the activist girl, Jeannie, the nice but bubble-headed beauty queen who had yet to pick a major, and the perpetually cheerful and extra-thick goth, Gloria. My brothers joked about how I needed to get a slash on my torso and my battle damage will be complete after have been shot and stabbed now. Mum and Dad were their usual, supportive cells. Cassander kept calling me brave, heroic and mighty.

I'm none of those things. The detective who came to interview me, Jack Cunningham, explained that the couple that Tateworm had attacked had not survived their injuries. Wow, you really tore up that guy, telling himself. I felt sick to my stomach. stomach, and not because of the dull pain where I'd been stabbed, which was throbbing with infection that a cocktail of painkillers in antibiotics was battling. I looked away from him, trying to hide my shame. Then he grinned. Can't say he didn't deserve it, cunning himself.

No, God no, don't say that. Am I going to jail? I mumbled. This is a little. This is a little. I'm completely falls under self-defense. But you beat the guy to within an inch of his life, and he's probably going to end up in the funny farm, the detective said. This is what it took. This is what it takes before people who need it gets sent someplace where they can't hurt others or themselves.

I'll come back with more questions and paperwork. Will you go on and heal up, hero? This is pretty cut and dry. He said, giving me a thumbs up on his way out. Friends and family drifted in and out over the next one. week, and even the pirate sent a card saying, tape wasn't right in the head. Shame this happened.

Get well soon, brother. He'd included a gift certificate for a big bottle of honeyjacks. After I got out, I would frequently glance at the other homeless folk. No, not because I was afraid of being attacked, but looking for a scow, a frown, a dirty look, something, anything to validate how loathsome I felt. nothing of the sort why couldn't people see in me what i know exists and finally went back to my dorm hand in hand with cassandra in one and the leash of the newly adopted cocker spaniel in the other

and after sitting down i hammered this whole story out the monster i mentioned when i began no there wasn't tape work beating a handicapped man with no control over his actions got labelled a heroic act. It shows hell doesn't feel heroic. The monster I referred to lives inside me, the hide to my jekyll. I know on the surface that I'd never hurt the ones I love, even when angry, but a primal fear always hides deep down. Our brains are divided into many different parts. Know why you get a headache looking at optical illusions. That's your brain arguing over what it's seen.

Whatever part of my brain that monster lives in, I pray to all as good and holy that it's never unleashed again. That's why I've gone back to counselling. Cassandra says she's proud of me for it. She's the only one I've ever told any of this to. Well, until now. and I'll tell you all what she told me. You're worth healing.

You're worth helping. You're worth being happy. I implore you, friends. Battle those demons in your soul. Don't do it alone. Once we graduate, I'm going to ask Cassandra to marry me. My table-top game friends, Raoul and Mandy, gave me an engagement ring to give to her when the time's right.

I'm thinking Pismore Beach at the end of the pier. right when the moon is hovering over the ocean. Just not at a drive-in movie anytime soon. I break into houses, part one. I know my place in society. I'm a low life. Scull. The kind of fucker that makes you think twice about going for a walk at night.

I've always been this way. Holy shit, I may never change. I like it. It's fun for me. I know how to make it work. Play the game. Stay alive. It was a warm Friday night.

I lay and weighed outside the kitchen window of a nice suburban two-storey. These people had money, no doubt about it. I kept myself well concealed as I peaked in at the stack blonde inside. Even in a long-sleeved sweater, she looked like she was doing a porn shooter. She leaned against the counter and sipped from a steaming cup. Yeah, that's right, bitch, I thought. Relax. You have no idea what's coming.

The doorbell rang, and the blonde stiffened. The confused look on her face said it all. She wasn't expecting visitors. The second ring came, and I could see the confusion turned to anxiety. She left the kitchen and I followed, running from shadow to shadow until I made my way fully around to the front of the house. there still out of sight i listened the door opened can i help you yes said the man on the porch my car broke down just up the road my phone has no power i was hoping i could come in and use yours his voice was low and uneven i'm convincing as fuck believe me i know all the tricks and how to use them oh if the blonde fell for this shit

She deserved whatever was coming to her. Um, she began to stutter. I don't... Well, I had to stifle a laugh. It sounded like she was about to give him the... I don't have a phone, line. Which, of course, is bullshit. Everyone has a phone.

It's not 1873. Please miss, came the low, almost monotone voice again. I won't be long, I promise. I'm sorry. The woman said at last. Then I heard the door slam and that was that. Nice try, dude, I thought. I followed the sound of the woman's footsteps back to the kitchen window.

She quickly picked up her cup, flicked off the lights and exited. From my hiding spot I could see her through the kitchen doorway as she ascended the stairs and disappeared into the darkness. I let some time pass, which was difficult. I was ready and itching. At last, when I felt like the timing was right, I said to work. The lock on that kitchen door never had a chance. These shitty locks it everywhere, and people think they're safe.

It's amazing more people don't get robbed or murdered. Quiet as a mouse, with bad intentions, I moved from the kitchen and into the home's foyer. Even in the dark, I could see that it was filled with a kind of classic charm. In my experience, that meant there was money. to be made. I was practically salivating as I imagined the payout. My gaze landed on the staircase. I allowed my eyes to follow it upward. What was she doing now? Sleeping, reading, bathing, perhaps enjoying some alone time. I lit my lips and lingered so long on the thought that I nearly forgot myself. Oh, shit, I said to myself and I found my way to the front door.

I opened it. There he was. The box. His pitch black eyes stared out at me from beneath his hood. I like working for him. He lets me keep and profit from whatever I find, but so help me, I don't think I'll ever get used to those eyes. What took you so long? He said in a whisper, his voice still unnaturally even. You've kept me waiting. You know I like to make sure the coast is clear, I whispered back. He cocked his head, and you know I can't come in unless I'm invited. I rolled my eyes. You know, if you worked on your presentation, you might get invited in on your own more often,

what I said. His lips curled into an eerie smile that never quite reached his eyes. I felt a chill run up my spine at the sight of it. But then you'd be out of a job, he said. "'True,' I managed. "'In any case, won't you come in?' I stepped aside and allowed him past it. As he moved past me, his whole demeanour warmed.

His shoulders hunched slightly. He brought his hands together in front of him. I saw a familiar glint in his cold black eyes, the glint of hunger, and another chill washed over me. "'Upstairs,' he guessed. "'Yip, I said. He smiled again. This time it was broad and genuine, revealing the long, sharp fangs that had descended on either side of his mouth.

Mmm, delicious, he said, and he glided up the stairs into the darkness. I tried to ignore the woman's screams as I searched through whatever drawers or cupboards I could find on the ground floor. It was tough, though. It sounded like this was a particularly brutal one, and the boss is usually so efficient. Damn, I'm guessing she fought. Poor dumb bitch. Part two. Mistakes were made.

Come in, Damon. I pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped into the dimly lit study. This room, like every room in my bossy's great mansion on the hill, was like something from another time. The laptop sitting on the antique desk was laughably out of place. It was the only thing in the entire room. that was less than a century old. The light from the screen illuminated my boss's face, washing out what little colour he had.

His eyes were dead and glassy, but were locked on the screen with a disturbing kind of intensity that didn't quite bring them to life. I'd seen that stare before. It was the stare of a hungry animal. That was how I knew why he'd call me in. He had another job for me. My boss and I were a clever pair.

he's the type who can't come in and do what he does without being invited unfortunately he sucks firmly intended at first impressions and that's where i come in i'm well seasoned in the art of breaking and entering he'd pick where he wanted to eat and i'd slip in and let him in the front door and then we both got what we want i get to keep as much as i can loot and he gets himself a blood feast which was a match made wherever these kinds of matches are made. Not heaven, that's for sure. Even though he made a good team professionally, my boss was definitely not the type of person

I'd ever want to associate with outside of business. He scared me, to be honest. I'm not a shame to admit that because, oh, think about this. A scummy criminal who breaks into houses and runs with the worst to the worst should be pretty hard to unsettle. And I am, but there's just something about this guy

with his flat mood, hollow stare and unnervingly even voice that gets under my skin. He's made his way into my nightmares more than once, but the only was good and consistent, so I figured it was a small price to pay. And that brings me to that night. I stood there in the boss's study for what seemed like forever,

until he finally decided to look up at me. Things always ran on his time, and with however many centuries he'd been through, I could tell time meant almost nothing to him, unless he was hungry those eyes pierced right through me he spoke his slow and metered words sending chills up my spine I've made a choice for the coming weekend Saturday evening to be exact great I said who's the dumb bitch this time keeping his gaze locked on me he slid the laptop around

I nearly choked when I saw the screen there was a picture of of a beautiful young woman in her twenties. She had bright red hair that fell around her face in ringlets, and freckles dotted her lily skin and her red lips curled into a seductive smile. No, I said before I could even think. Not Andrea. The boss tilted his head. You know this woman, I thought to myself. How was I going to navigate the coming shitstorm? In any event, the cat was already out of the bag, so I simply spilled the truth. "'Yeah,' I said.

"'We've been seeing each other for a while. "'She's my—' "'As hard as I tried, I couldn't quite bring myself to say the word. "'I'd never said it out loud before with regard to Andrea. "'Your girlfriend?' "'My boss offered, finishing my sentence. "'The word hit me in the chest and sent a different kind of chill throughout my body. "'I nodded.

"'Well, then,' the boss said, you should have no trouble getting in i was dumbfounded you can't be serious i said oh you're not going to make me go through with it why not the boss asked the look on his face was starkly and shockingly sincere i could see that it never once occurred to him that i would object because i stammered i i i You love her? I nodded again, grateful to have the words taken out of my mouth. The boss's lips curled slowly into a smile that never reached his eyes. It became almost painful to look at, and yet I couldn't tear my eyes away. So much the better, he said. He snapped the laptop shut, signaling that there will be no more discussion.

I'll expect you at the usual time for the usual order of operations. "'Good evening. "'Oh, I panicked rose as I bounded down the mansion steps. "'I had to do something. "'I genuinely cared about Andrea. "'It might have been the first time I'd ever felt anything even close to love for someone. "'And from what I could tell, she felt the same way about me. "'She didn't care that I was a loser.

"'She didn't need me to support her. "'She saw past my mistakes and my bad choices, "'and whatever she saw in me she seemed to like. "'I wasn't about to lose that. "'Not for anyone. It was a Thursday evening, and that meant I had two days to think of something. As soon as I was far enough away from the house, I got on my phone. Hey, baby.

That sweet voice rang in my ear, and for a minute I let it soothe me. Hey, sweet cheeks, I said. Listen, I really need to see you tonight. Tonight, she said. I could hear the reluctance in her voice, and it unnerved me. "'I don't think I can meet you tonight, Damon. "'I promised the girls I'd host Book Club.' "'Oh,' I said.

"'Shit. "'Oh, look, can you cancel?' "'I've already cancelled once before,' she said. "'And it was true. "'There was one night last month "'where I convinced her to cancel on the night she was hosting. "'She'd done it willingly. "'We both had quite the appetite for each other that night,

"'but even then she made it clear "'that we wouldn't make such a thing a habit. "'It was Thursday, I taught me. myself the attack wasn't coming until Saturday I had time tomorrow then I asked Joron she said my place at eight perfect as I hung up a sense of relief washed over me the rest of my plan began to take shape I convinced Andrea to run away with me I didn't know or care to where it didn't matter away was good enough for the next 24 hours I was a nervous wreck time could not have passed more slowly i rehearsed my pitch over and over tried to

anticipate andrews arguments and come up with counterpoints of my own at last the time came and i made my way to andrews when she opened the door i gave her the longest deepest kiss of our entire relationship that was different she said with flushed cheeks as she toyed flirtily with the flowing scarf she walked. She led me all the way in where dinner was laid out and waiting for us. We'd barely been sitting for 30 seconds when my nervousness became unbearable. I felt the urge to make my move then and there. I think we should go away together, I said suddenly. Away, she repeated. Her fingers nervously pinched the fabric of her scarf. Yeah, I said, tonight. But where? Her brows knit downward in concern.

What's going on? This is unlike you. You're not usually spontaneous, I offered. Exactly, she said, and narrowed her eyes at me. Are you in trouble? No, I wanted to shout. You are. But all I managed to say was a feeble, no.

I tried to laugh, but could only produce a single, totally suspicious, half of air. Relax, Damon. said and I realized I was breathing hard she reached out and placed a steadying hand on my shoulder I think you just need to calm down I know just the thing for you she leaned in close and grazed my ear with her lips instantly my worry melted away and my primal sight took over every time her lips made landfall on my flesh a wave of heat rushed through me and settled right where it counted god damn this woman knew how to turn me on After a few long, slow, sweet kisses, our hands wandered freely.

She leaned back, took both my hands in hers, and brought them up to the scarf around her neck. "'I'm getting so hot,' she said. "'I understood what she wanted and set straight to the task of undoing her scarf. "'It came off so easily. "'But what I found turned all my heat to ice. "'There above Andrea's jugular vein were two. healing bite marks. With effort, I tore my gaze back to her face.

She was no longer looking at me. Instead, her eyes, elated and cat-like, were trained on something behind where I sat. I didn't have time to look before I heard that flat, cold voice. You should never try to double-cross me, Damon, it said. The next thing I remember is an excruciating pain in my head, and then, darkness. Now as I sit here in this dark and empty apartment, pressing an ice pack to the hot lump on my scalp, the others, Andrea and the boss, are gone. Who knows where they went? I don't know why they didn't kill me, or part of me wishes they had.

Well, I've said it before, I'm a scummy low life, but maybe this will be it for me. Maybe this will be my lesson learned. Maybe this will finally put me on the straight and narrow. Well, right after I find that undead fucker and drive a fucking steak through his heart. Part three. Stupid love. The aging window yielded to the jiggle of my screwdriver with surprising ease. I would have thought someone with an ancient mansion on a hill would take better care to secure it at night from the likes of me.

Remember me? That's right. It's your old pal Damon, the burgling bastard himself. You didn't think I'd just shave? throw my tools in the river and join the priesthood did you oh way in hell not when all that stood between me and what i wanted or a few crumbling walls and window frames and what oh rather who was i looking for andria my angel my everything or at least she was up until disaster struck she'd been the best thing that had ever happened to me she was a good girl from the right side of the tracks she had her own job her own place hell she even had a monthly book club what the hell a slice of perfection like her saw in some low life like me i'll never understand but i never cursed it all took it for granted a single day now every minute she was missing was like a knife driving straight into my gun i knew she was there hold up somewhere in that

sprawling house where else would he have taken her so i never should have trusted him the boss makes me sick to think of him in those terms now but that's what he was my employer until he betrayed me we had a good thing going too if i'm honest he was a well he never much like the v word but he was the type who couldn't come into your home unless he was invited problem was when you're undead for as long as he was i guess your social skills go to shit creepy fuck couldn't get in on his own and that's where i came in I am an expert and getting into places where I don't belong. Places people don't want me.

You see, I guess it doesn't say anywhere in the rule book that it has to be the resident that lets him in. Just so long as somebody did, me, he was good to go. A sucker got his meal and I got my steel. Well, clearly, I am an idiot. I mean, what kind of moron makes a business deal with a goddamn vampire? One who only sees dollar signs and drug deals, that's who, aka me.

Not once did I even stop to question our little arrangement until the boss set his sights on Andrea. He got her too, so easily. He didn't even need my help. Now, as I was sliding slowly through the window I'd opened, I wondered if I was being even more of an idiot. I mean, really, what did I think I was doing? Who breaks into a vampire's house to challenge him on his own turf?

Well, love makes you do stupid things, I guess. And honestly, if he did anything to hurt her, not only would I go down putting up the biggest fight in the history of the world, but I'd also deserve whatever torture I got. Cheerful, yes, I know. So silently, my feet touched the floor of the darkened room. I straightened up and looked around. This was his study.

I recognized the oversized desk. We fell bookshelves that lie in the walls. I've been in this room many times to discuss business, well, that is, get the location for the next victim. I remembered when that victim turned out to be Andrea, how he'd turned his little laptop around to show me her picture. My blood had boiled as the scene played out in my memory. My eyes landed on a raised, dark rectangle that sat in the middle of the desk.

Wires and cords snaked away from it in two different directions. There it was, the effect. landing laptop. Before I even knew what I was doing, I charged toward it. I don't remember drawing my crowbar, but there it was, high in the air, clutched tight in my shaking fists. With force and fury, I brought it down hard on top of the computer. Things crunched and snapped as plastic and metal shot out in all directions. Over and over, I slammed my crowbar into that damn thing, that horrible object that was first used to show me that Andrea would be our next target. Then my burst of rage finally passed.

What was silent once again? I stood looking down at my handiwork, a thoroughly decimated laptop, and a few fresh dents in the wooden desktop. My moment of pride was short, and concern took over. Shit, I thought. If he's nearby, there's no way you didn't hear that.

Did I even care if he'd heard it? Maybe not. Maybe it was just as well I lure the bastard out. At least that would get him away from Andrea. And so I stood there in the dark and waited. Nothing. Silence. Not so much as a mouse scurried across the floor.

I knew I had no choice but to venture further into the house. I clicked on my flashlight as I creaked open one of the study doors. It only ever come in the other way. What lay beyond this door was a complete mystery to me. Before me a hallway. stretched into the darkness. I had no idea if it would lead me to Andrea, but it was a good place to start. My steps were silent and cat-like as I made my way through the darkness. I perfected the art of sneaking, and that night I was particularly thankful for it. It seems the stakes had never

been higher, never before was so much riding on a successful breaking. I was almost startled when a sound cut through the air. A woman's voice gasping. Andrea? Came from the door to my right. Quickly I turned and assessed my options. Below the knob, just at hip height, I spotted a keyhole. Without another moment's hesitation, I knelt and pressed my eye to the tiny opening. What I saw on the other side was a surprise indeed.

I could just make out of bed, a large one, on it were two figures. Women. One was blonde with an upturned nose and a dancer's figure. the other was an Asian girl with straight black hair and a fiery severity in her eyes. I'd never seen either one before. First in nothing but black lingerie. They ran their hands all over each other as they giggled and gasped. Occasionally one would lean in to taste the other,

pressing her lips to an exposed patch of skin. For a moment, my reptile brain took over. I could feel the heat staring in my groin, and in all honesty, I probably could have watched forever. or at least until one of us, myself, the blonde or the Asian, who climaxed, though the thought was a sweet one. Damon! The voice came from further down the hall.

I whipped my head around to see Andrea standing in front of an open door. Her expression was almost unreadable, a mix of horror, relief, confusion, and a dozen other emotions. Her untied scarf hung from her neck with two sickening bite marks just visible behind one of its fond. The sight of them, red and raised, reminded me of why I was there. Before I could move or speak, a soft thumb from the door in front of me drew my attention back to the keyhole. Looking through once again, I saw nothing. Then suddenly a shape darted across my field of vision. I was a loud, percussive bang, a stinging pain in my nose, tears in my eyes.

The next thing I knew, I was sailing toward the wall behind me. while the door flew open. Out came the two girls, first the blonde and then the Asian. Their eyes practically glowed with fury as they lunge for me. They held their hands and fingers like claws, where I could see their real weapons

protruding from their mouths. Each lady had a pair of sharp, gleaming white fangs jutting out from beneath her top lip. I uttered, it's one thing to know vampires exist and to interact with them on a regular basis. It's another thing entirely, face them in battle especially when they're hot half naked and probably pissed that you interrupted their

love-making i didn't realize the ladies were booted until one of them slammed her heel directly into my jaw flailed my fists while waiting for the stars in my eyes to fade occasionally finding purchase in the vampire soft but eerily cold flesh they screeched with each hit i landed at the same time making several of their own knuckles pummeled me fingernails pierced my flesh. At last, the power fist shot straight between my thighs and knocked the wind from my lungs. I dropped my knees and looked up to see my aggressors step back for a breather. Now was my chance. I reached inside my jacket pocket and pulled out the steak I prepared. Gripping it tightly, I moved fast. I brought it straight up and slammed it into the Asian

girl's chest. In an amazing stroke of luck, it seemed to a fine purchase right between her ribs and from there i drove it in easily until there was nothing more to leverage against her screen filled the air and then died away as she seemed to shrivel and crumble around my stake eventually falling free of it entirely next i turned my attention to the blogs her eyes wide with a mix of terror and surprise she began to shake her head as if her next move would have been to plead for her life death undepath or whatever it didn't matter once I had her cornered at the end of the hallway the stake went into its second victim just as easily this time I watched her eyes roll back in her head sink into their sockets and liquefy her jaw dropped open and her tongue hung out gruesomely until it too shriveled and fell to the floor never before in my life had I been so disgusted and satisfied at the same time for a moment I simply stood there in the dark hallway

lording it over the two piles of dust which had been attacking me with claws, teeth and tits out. All was quiet. Andrea was gone. I had no idea when she'd slipped away, but turning to the other end of the hallway, I saw she'd left a door open and swinging on its hinges. I had a choice to make. Clearly she wanted me to follow her. If indeed she had gone through that door,

there could only be two reasons for that. one was that she wanted me, needed me, to rescue her. The thought raced through my veins and, well, pooled in a certain place. Her blood was racing through my veins. I imagined bursting into some dusty old bedroom, grabbing the boss by the scruff of his neck and driving my steak straight into his chest. I could see the look in his eyes as he crumbled, knowing that all her troubles were over and that I was the reason why I would be her hero.

The other scenario, however, that couldn't be ignored. What if this was a trap? What if she was now nothing more than his tool? His pawn he was using to get me where he wanted me so he could eliminate a threat. There was no denying he knew such a plan would work too. So I had to decide how stupid I was going to be. I was very stupid.

Onward I charged, beyond the door that Andrea had left us. was a small, dark landing and a series of narrow steps spiraling downwards. Oh, the basement, I thought. How fucking cliche. You'd think being undead for however many centuries would teach the old farts of originality. Oh well, I thought. No time now to criticize his choices. I tried to be as stealthy as possible as I moved down the stairs, but there was nothing I could do to stop the persistent echo of my footsteps. Down and down they seemed to go.

They were unending. I began to wonder if I lost my mind or stumbled into one of those shitty supernatural internet stories that twelve-year-old swear are totally real. I mean, hell, if vampires exist, were I to be sceptical of anything else. Finally, I reached the bottom. A quick pass with my flashlight revealed a cavernous, unfinished space with what looked like a tunnel straight ahead of me.

I decided to take a look behind me as well and nearly shot myself when I saw a face peeking out from behind the stairway. It commanded. Andrea! My heart leaped. Without thinking I rushed toward her, but stopped dead when she held out her hands in front of her. No, she said in a whisper, it's not safe. She dropped her arms slowly, keeping her eyes locked on my face. She seemed to be searching for something, some sign that I might not be able to.

me. At last, she seemed satisfied and then slowly turned in the direction of the tunnel, pointing a single finger, she said. He's in there. With my eyes I followed to where she pointed. The darkness was so dense I could only see the mouth of the tunnel, waiting and ready to swallow up anyone who dared to enter. I looked back at Andrea. You want me to take him out. Now her eyes seemed large and childlike. She nodded. melting my heart like a snowball in hell. Well, that was all I needed. I headed straight for that tunnel,

not even bothering to study her for signs of dishonesty. Well, I am stupid, remember. Faster and faster I went, my footsteps echoing damply through the tunnel. I no longer cared if the boss sensed me coming. I was going to murder this motherfucker, and I wanted him to know exactly who did it. What I found when I reached the end

was like something out of a horror. a movie, candles burning dimly in the candelabas, throwing shadows all over the circular space, statues in alcoves looking sinister and threatening in the low light. In the middle of the room was a coffin. Oh, you have got to be fucking kidding me, I thought. All right, let's do this. Slow now I made my way to the coffin. I rested my hand on the lid. If he was, he was, in there, I thought. I was going to get one shot. I needed to make it count. With a deep breath, and on the count of three, I threw the lid open. There he was, the boss himself. He looked oddly peaceful with his eyes closed and his hands crossed in front of him, but the sight still made me

shudder. A surprising wave of fear came over me. My joints locked. I fought to move them. I can't hesitate, damn it. I scolded myself. I can't hesitate. I hesitated. It was just enough time for him to stir. His eyes flooded open and locked with mine, and a sickening grin crept across his face. Well, well, he said. I see you. He stopped mid-thought, his eyes darting suddenly to something behind my left shoulder. I felt the stake being wrench from my hand and it was gone before I thought to resist the next thing I felt was an elbow in my stomach I doubled over and staggered backwards my head came back up just in time for me to see Andrea plunge the stake deep into that fucker's heart I screamed like I'd never heard before

ripped through the air it seemed to fill the entire space bouncing and knocking against every surface in a way it shouldn't have been able to at last it faded and everything was silent once again. Well, I stared in amazement at the sweet, slight figure of my Andrea. She stood stork still, clutching the stake. It dripped with a dark substance that was thicker than blood. Eventually she let it fall from her hand, and it hit the floor with a dull thud. She turned to face me.

The look in her eyes was one I'll never forget. Amazement. Relieve. We ran to each other and, for the first time in weeks, I squeezed her tightly. I pressed a kiss to her lips which were cool and moist, with her own relieved tears, and then wrapped myself around her once more. There we stood in each other's embrace. She plunded sweet kisses up and down my neck, from my ear to my shoulder. Then there came the kiss that felt sharper than the others.

I pushed myself backward, holding her by the shoulders. instinctively my hand shot up to my neck there was no puncture no blood drawn but none of that mattered the truth was the truth she must have seen the horror on my face because all i found in hers was guilt and shame i'm sorry damon she said through her tears it's already too late for me she parted her lips and there on either side of her mouth or the fangs i'd summon somehow missed early. Oh, shit, I said, more to myself than to anyone else. All I could do was stare.

For the second time in a very short while, my world had been turned upside down. You should kill me too, she said. No, I insisted automatically. Yes, she said. I'll only need to keep feeding if you don't. I don't know if I could do that. I don't know how. The voice trailed off, giving way to light sobs.

The scene played out before me, my sweet, beautiful Andrea wasting away to nothing, all alone with a dust in this draughty old house. I couldn't let that happen, and I couldn't shake the idea that was forming in my mind. I'll help you, I said. She fell silent. What? I'll help you. repeated, like I did for the boss. What are you talking about? Look, I said, taking on a somewhat

business like Tona. You can't get in anywhere unless someone invites you. Oh, shit, she said. I didn't think of that. I smiled. And something inside me warned. That's the first time I've ever heard you curse. She shot me a version of her famous glare. Damon, this is hardly the time to flirt. right right i said sorry anyway you know what i do you know what i'm capable of how i can get past almost any lot her tears stopped i could see i had her full attention and my meaning began to sink in go on she said i swallowed heart well um you don't think there's any way i'd let my baby starve to death to you i blinked Oh, undeth, real death, I'm still not clear on these. Her lips pressed to mine and ended my foundry.

Her skin was cold, but her taste was just as intoxicating as ever. And those eyes, well, I could never find them creepy or unsettling. And so, that's how it goes when you're in love. You wind up doing the wildest and sometimes stupidest things. So do yourself a favouring. Keep your doors and windows locked at night. Not that it's likely to do you any good. I mean, you're a good listener and all, and I like you.

But, well, I'd never let my baby go hungry. I've never been a mega beauty. Besides two or bombshell by any means. But I'm pretty for a woman my size and age. The morning of August 9th started like any other day. I was at the spa, my best friend Marty and I frequented once a month for a massage, a haircut, manny pet. "'All ladies, you look gorgeous,' said Deshawn, our stylist. "'But if you heard about our ladies' products, it's called Forever Young,

"'I was just shipped in this morning. "'If you'd like, maybe you can be my little guinea-pigs.' "'Oh, Deshawn, I wake up like this with the perfection of a goddess,' Marty said, half-joking. "'I looked at the red bottle, and then back at Marty. "'She took it out of Deshawn's hand and looked at it. There was nothing strange about it, but the directions were simple. One drop on your tongue once a week and begin seeing and feeling the results immediately. Mardi looked at me, and then at Dishore, he shrugged her shoulders.

How much? For you guys, twenty for two bottles. He smiled. That was all it took. We walked out of the posh salon in downtown Cleveland, I went into a restaurant where we had a sitting invitation for the second Friday of every month. Did Emily text you about the party? Marty asked me. No, but I'm sure she will eventually.

You know how she is about being timely, I said, rolling my eyes. The waitress came over and a piece of hair fell into her face. I smiled politely, but my snob of a best friend wrinkled her nose. God, I hope all that hair doesn't end up in my mouth. My champagne. Sorry, said the waitress, whose name tag said Tiffany. It's just been one of those days. She attempted to tuck her piece of bushy dark hair behind her ear unsuccessfully.

That's okay. We all have those days. I said to her sympathetically. Marty looked to me and rolled her eyes. We're ready to order. One small cheeseplay with strawberries. No crackers, no cheddar, no brie. No dipping sauce, because it's not on my diet.

Two glasses of Proshakro. Okay, smart the waitress, and look to me. And for you? Marty stopped her. That's for both of us. It's on my tab. You completely idiot. Did you really think someone like me would want all of that just for themselves?

Well, you did say one small cheese plate, she said nervously. Marty rolled her eyes, dismissing her away with a flick of her wrist. The young girl walked away with a defeated look. upon her round cheeks. Why do you have to be so bitchy to servants? Kayla, not everyone shares your love for those that are beneath those of us that enjoy the finer things in life. She was an idiot.

So, what do you think about this solution to Sean gave us? Not sure. I looked down, almost embarrassed at being at the same table as Marty. I looked at my friend of 20 years, trying to understand how we had been friends for so long. I wanted to leave right then. Maybe I should have. Marty had a way about her. She made a silly face, tossing her long, dark hair over her shoulder. Her plump lips and high cheekbones only enhanced her gorgeous looks. I smiled, wishing for five damn minutes to be as beautiful as she was. Eh, I know what you're thinking. I must be that girl who hangs out with

women to feel better about themselves. like her perfect looks will rub off on me. Far from it. I've been best friends with Marty since she was overweight, a pack of Oreo's a day girl, and the lousy skin to boot. Ooh, both unattractive nerds in high school. Fast forward to ten years later,

Botox, a nip, tuck, diet living off starvation, and here was Marty, even if her attitude sucked. Well, she was always kind to me. When she got married to her wealthy husband, Eric, she paid for me and my then boyfriend to go to Hawaii, just to be at her wedding. So, Marty has her thoughts, but I loved her anyway. The waitress came back with a gorgeous food tray and our champagne.

Marty picked up both glasses, handing me one of them. Cheers, bitch. Happy second Friday. Happy second Friday, I laughed. So should we try this new formula now? Like, do you think it's okay to take it with alcohol? She asked, dropping three large droplets on her tongue. I don't think it matters anymore, I laughed, dropping only one drop on my tongue.

Laughed as I watched her down her entire glass of champagne immediately following the three drops of Forever Young. We spent the next hour drinking, talking about old times, and then we hugged, both taking our Uber's home. We agreed to meet the following month again, as we always did. The following morning I woke up with a strange tingling in my left cheek. My eyes felt dry.

When I rubbed them, they both immediately started to bleed from my tear darts. To say I freaked out was quite the understatement of the year. I ran into the bedroom, looked in the mirror. My eyes were blood red. I grabbed my eyedrops from the bathroom cupboard, spraying so much vizion into my eyes that it ran down my cheeks. The Vizien seemed to do the trick, but after my eye issue, I began to realize numbness on one side of my cheeks. Was I having a stroke? An allergic reaction?

In God's name, was it the plague? I wanted to go to the doctor, but I was too frightened. I looked around and decided, stupidly, the best thing I could do for myself was to jump in a hot shower. I turned the warm water on and stepped inside, instantly feeling a bird. burning sensation flow up and down my body, as though it were burning me alive. My skin felt so thin, dry and loose, like it may fall off my body. I screamed, turning on the ice-cold water instead. I expected it to cause my body to twitch from the sudden burst of cold.

Instead, it calmed me. The cold felt so good it could have been more chilled, and I would have been just fine with it. I sighed, feeling... Almost better. Just as I was trying to feel better again, my phone buzzed. I looked at my phone. It was Marty. I wasn't expecting to hear from her so soon.

I picked up the phone. Hi, Marty, but now isn't really a good time. But before I could even get the words out of my mouth, I heard a scream into the other end of my phone. I need you to come over now. I barely recognised the voice on the other end of the phone. It was Marty, however, by the colourful language it was now coming out of her mouth. Marty even sounded muffled and illegible.

Some, if that, mothers were being tossed out of her mouth, that much I knew. If I had to bet money on it, I'd say she was drunk. It wasn't unusual to find her still drunk the next morning from the night before. That's if she even went to bed. I didn't even hesitate. I got dressed as quickly as I could, managing to pour myself together long enough to drive to Marty's house. When I pulled in, I noticed her husband's car was gone.

I got out of my car and knocked. There was no answer at all. After a few moments, I just let myself in. Marty, are you in there? I walked around her living room, half expecting to find her passed out on the couch from drinking too much. I spent many of the college days helping her to the toilet after a nasty hangover. Kayla! I heard a growl coming from my bathroom.

Marty, are you okay? A deep, raspy voice met me again. Kayla, please, I'm very sick. I sighed, forgetting my issues for the time being. When I opened the bathroom door, well, if I could do it all over. again. I don't think I would have done it with so much quickness. I'd have taken my time. The way they do in horror movies. What met me on the other side of the door was the thing that all children and some adults' nightmares were made of. Marty was up against the shower wall

in a white negligent. A perfect figure was covered in scratches up and down her body that looked like she'd taken a razor to every inch of it. That wasn't the same. I wasn't. the worst part. The neck was one giant open wound. You could make out pieces of bow and jaw. Her eyes were red and her teeth. My God, her teeth were nearly falling out. I backed away in shock, terror and concern. There's tears welled up in my eyes. Who did this to you? Was it Eric? Oh my God. Oh God. Kill the bastard. No. She responded with a deep chuckle that caught me off guard. Who? I have no idea, she said, beginning to move towards me.

I backed into the door of the bathroom, causing it to slam shut, which startled me. Help me into the kitchen. I need a drink. I walked her to the kitchen, watched my friend pour a glass of white wine, and she began to vape. The smoke came out of the hole in her. her neck. I somehow managed not to puke at the sight of her. Does it hurt? I asked her. You know? She puffed on her vaping pipes and more, as more cappuccino scent to fill the air. That's the thing. He did at first. There was this tingling all over my body. My skin felt inflamed, and it was so itchy, hence the scratch is all over me. I winced, thinking,

how it must have felt. Then, she continued, it all stopped. I hid before Eric, he left on his business trip. He didn't even notice his wife was suffering. Instead, he crawled in bed with me just before it got this bad.

He gave me that stupid look he gets when he wants to get laid. All I could think of was eating him, him and his stupid face, those googly eyes. while he's drunk He gets really annoyed There's one that goes one way

The other just ever so slag the other way She began to cry and laugh Bloody tears fell from her bloody eyes And I struggled to find a way to comfort my friend Eating him Yeah I just wanted to bash his stupid face in and eat his brains I just kept thinking about how good his flesh would taste

She sucked in more of her vaping pipe I began to think about what had happened to me earlier that morning Marty was still talking, vaping and struggling to drink her wine He would have been funny if it wasn't so tragic I had blood coming from my eyes when I woke up this morning Marty was crying still And then she looked up at me Forever Young

Her red blushed eyes lit up she squeezed her a wine glass, causing it to shatter into tiny shards of pieces. I'm going to kill, dear Sean, she screamed. We need to find out what's in those bottles of forever young, I said, panicking. I'll kill him and then eat him. Marty was still full of rage. No one is eating anyone, God, we aren't zombies, I yelled at her. That's exactly what we're.

We are. Look, I'll go see Deshaun and find out what's in that potion. I'll let you know what I find out. No way you're going along. Well, how are you going to go? You're literally falling apart. Well, you'll have to help me get dressed, obviously. We stood in Marty's dressing room, trying to find something to cover her body. I managed to wrap her chest and neck in ace bandages. He didn't cover much up, so I put her in a long jacket and a sun hat. I placed her hair over the side of her face, where her jawline was exposed. For the final touches, I put black sunglasses on her over her hair to keep her hair in place. Well, she made for quite this strange-looking character.

I look like a complete freak. Bitching and moaning isn't helping. Marty smacked me on the shoulder instantly, causing two of her fingers to fall. onto the white carpet. I started to laugh, so I just couldn't help it. I guess Delirium was sitting in. This isn't funny. Now what am I supposed to do?

Marty wailed. Don't you have any duct tape? Marty rolled her eyes, picking her fingers up off the floor and putting them in the pocket of her leather jacket. We got to Deshawn's studio. When we got inside the salon, it was full of beautiful women

all getting their hairstyled, making makeovers. Marty stood there, eyeing the women, and I could see the longing in her face as one red tear fell onto her pale face. A woman came over to us. Good morning. Do you ladies have an appointment? No, but we wanted to talk to Deshaun about a product he sold the both of us yesterday when we were in. Oh, well, I hate to break it to you, but Deshaun is on a cruise. He left last night. He won't be back for at least two weeks. I took one look around the room. There were women all over the large salon.

All who were being gifted sample bags of forever young. Marty and I stood looking at the women with their gift bags full of forever young. Marty was seething in anger. Took one look at the young woman at the salon who, as Marty saw it, was standing between her and critical information about Deshawn's whereabouts. Do you have his contact information? Marty growled at the woman. Oh, I'm not supposed to give that out.

I need his information. What she's trying to say is that something in those bottles of Forever Young made both of us very sick. It could also make someone else ill as well unless you stop handing it out. I don't understand. DeShan said it's only vitamin C.

Between you and me. she began whispering. He makes it himself with some recipe his grandmother passed out. He takes it every day. It hasn't made him sick at all. Tara, is it? I asked, looking at her name tag. Yes, she smiled, bouncing in place as though she were just happy to be acknowledged. Perhaps we could just talk to him, you know, to make sure.

I mean, I'd hate to have to talk to law enforcement about it, have this place shut down. Law enforcement? Yes, or better yet, the board of hell. Marty growled. As she moved forward, her hair moved slightly, revealing her exposed jawline. To our luck, that was all it took. Oh, my God, here's his number. She ran from both of us and began grabbing every back of Forever Young from the patrons of the salon.

Either Marty or I cared about the chaos that was erupting behind us. We took Deshaun's contact information, including his address for good measure, and left the cello. As soon as we're in my car, we wasted no time trying to call it. The phone rang. If he's on a boat, he may not get any reception. I sighed. My bet he's not even left the airport. I say we drive to his place.

I nodded, plugging in the GPS coordinates, and away we went. When we got to Deshawn's apartment, some cute little pace on the west side. We saw him. He was packing up his trunk for his trip. I parked across the street from the apartment. Oh, I'm going to eat him, Marty growled. Marty, do you want to stay in the car? No, she sighed.

Okay, stop it. We need his help. By now, I too was feeling overly hungry, and my stomach began to growl fiercely. I had one fleeting thought of what it would be like to taste flesh. I said one. Something was going on in the chemistry of my body and my stomach began to hurt. I didn't have time for my pain, however. I had to make it out of this car and go over to Deshaun. I struggled to move as it felt like every organ in my body was changing or shutting down. Before I could reach Deshaun, I collapsed onto the pavement.

I was sure something had snapped. I felt no pain, however. Everything was just not. Marty was behind me, and I saw Deshawn, too. He stood in front of my broken body. Kayla? Marty too. Marty growled, and I gave her a look.

She stopped immediately. What are you doing here? Let me call an ambulance. No. He stopped, and between the two of them they helped me stand on my now crooked leg. I leaned on Deshawn's pink polo that he wore. He was getting ready for a trip to the tropics. Part of me felt terrible for having to make him late because there was no way after what we were about to tell him that wouldn't render him paralyzed and shot. Are you sure? He asked and said.

Yes, Marty growled. Deshawn saw her face then as her bandage came off Holy shit What happened to you? Marty became angry I held her back from Deshawn Forever young is what happened What the hell did you put in that potion

He's turned us into fresh eating zombies She growled Nothing There's nothing in it except for lemon juice and distilled water I swear Your mouth is made making mine water more and more. Every time it says something stupid,

Marty growled at him again. Deshaun backed away from the two of us. Look, I've no idea what happened to you guys. After you left the Salam, I can prove it wasn't me. Deshawn had us follow him into his apartment. His hands shook from fear as he fiddled with his keys to unlock his door. He couldn't take his eyes off, Marty, as her bandages were loosening from the summer healed.

Finally, the three of us made it inside his small apartment. He brought over to his refrigerator and poured out a large bottle. He poured a glass of what was inside it, sipping it, then he passed it around to both Marty and me. See, water and lemon. That's all, I swear. Are you certain? Did you get the water from another sauce?

No, I distilled it. it myself by boiling it and then adding freshly squeezed lemon from my juicer. God, it's stupid, I know, but I really needed the extra money from the salon after my boyfriend dumped me, leaving me with the expenses of this cruise. I know it was wrong to take money from people, but it's no different than commercials. False advertising, I said, annoyed. DeShone seemed visibly hurts, while Marty and I knew it wasn't forever young. If not this, Idiot. Then what? Marty yelled as her mouth began to twitch uncontrollably. I was afraid of what would happen to her if you continued to deteriorate.

What would be left of her? Look, my plane doesn't take off until later. I can spare a few hours to help you guys figure out what this caused this to happen. Are you just afraid of a lawsuit? said Marty, visibly holding the rest of her jaw in place. No, I really want to help. What if it's something else? What if it's the zombie apocalypse? I want to know my chances of surviving.

I collapsed on Deshawn's couch. Where to begin? Well, where'd you guys go after you left my salon? You guys always meet me there and eat afterward, right? Maybe it's something you ate? I'm starving, Marty groaned. Um, okay, but let's think first. Deshawn was scared of Marty.

Oh, Pierre's Pier, I said. Oh, cheese plate does sound good. So does a leg. Do you think that's on my keto diet? Marty, focus. You both ate a cheese platter and champagne. That doesn't seem zombie-inducing, De Sean said. Did anybody give you guys anything besides that?

Piece of candy. Did you brush up against someone that look sick? Anything like that? We both shook our heads. Well, why is Marty worse than you, Kayla? Deshawn was asking a legitimate question. She's the mean one, I joked, not thinking of my repercussions. No, wait, you could be onto something, Dechon said, hopping to his feet.

Wait, for what? Marty wailed. Look, honey, I'm not trying to be mean, but... You do have some serious megabitch vibes going on. Maybe you piss someone off. Deshawn said as sympathetically as he could muster, all the while fearing he was going to be lunch for two starving zombies. I thought back to yesterday, as fog as it now was, becoming in my mind.

I recall Marty giving her best impression of the wicked witch to that waitress. Oh, Marty, it's the waitress. He was so mean to her yesterday. Not my fault. Her idiocy brought it out. Well, there's only one thing to do. We have to go talk to her. Deshawn exclaimed excitedly to have the heat pour off of him. We all piled into my car, and I let Deshawn drive, as my vision was now failing me. It seemed like the drive took hours.

Downtown Cleveland on a summer day, while baseball was going on, wasn't the best driving situation to be involved in. We finally made it to Pierre's peer. I was able to make out the waitress from the day before. We found her folding silverware into white-coff napkins. When she happened to look at the three of us, it didn't seem to surprise her that we were there, although she did look a bit alarmed at Marty's face.

You did this, Marty growled. I did. the young waitress said to her chin out in full defiance it was so nasty to me yesterday it was like every customer that came in was mean made for expecting god i reached the end of my rope that doesn't give you the right to hurt people i said to her angrily you do to me marie was ready to snap at any second if she was already barely holding on by a tiny threat it's a spell said the the young woman. Honestly, I thought it would have worn off by now. Does it look like it to you? Marty yelled. No, ma'am, she said politely. What did I do to you? I was nice, I said, deflated.

Guilty by association, but I didn't put a lot in your drink. Sorry. Fix this. Marty was in her face now, and the young girl, girl was petrified at what her spell had created. Okay, she squealed. Now, Marty approached her. Her mouth opening, revealing saliva as a hungry gaze fixated itself over the waitress. There you go again. You can't even be nice for five seconds.

Sometimes that's all a server wants. A decent tip that'd be treated like a human being worthy of serving your food. "'It's simple I'm sorry "'you can go a long way right now, bitch.' "'Marty took a deep breath, "'ready to pounce, "'and I pushed her back. "'We are sorry.

"'Please help us.' "'Not until she says it.' "'I looked at Marty. "'Don't you have something to say?' "'Sorry.' "'She said, flexing it more "'as a question. "'Not good enough.

don't care. Look, I'll help your friend, but you'll have to wait till the spell wears off. Fine. I'm sorry, I can't look like this anymore. Marty began to cry tears of blood. The young woman seemed to take pity on her after all. She had us follow her to her car, and together we swallowed a potion of some sort that seemed to make the zombie aging process dissipated within a few hours. And do wish I could say Marty changed forever after the She'll always be Marty. But Marty is more careful with how she treats others now. She got her good looks back after all.

But sadly, she was not able to reattach her two fingers in time to heal with the rest of her body. Marty keeps them in a jar. Why, I don't know. Maybe it's a reminder of what could have been. Either way, I think we could all consider this a lesson. always be kind to those that work to serve others, delivery men, night workers who stay up late to service you in gas stations, fast food workers, bartenders who have to deal with their share of drunken assholes, your Uber drivers, and tip them all too.

He never knows having a terrible day. A little kindness goes a very long way. And so once again reach the end of tonight's podcast. My thanks as always to the authors of those wonderful stories and to you for taking the time to listen. Now, I'd ask one small favor of you. Wherever you get your podcast wrong, please write a few nice words and leave a five-star review

as it really helps the podcast. That's it for this week, but I'll be back again, same time, same place, and I do so hope you'll join me once more. Until next time, sweet dreams and bye-bye.