Dr. Creepen's Dungeon - S5 Ep214: Episode 214: Horror Stories for a Rainy Night

Episode Date: January 30, 2025

Almost 4 hours of scary stories told in the pouring rain to help you get to sleep... Featuring a selection of my all-time favorite stories from the wonderful Lucretia Vastea!  https://twitter.com/cvasiacru ‘The Amateur’  ‘The Curious Case of Marius Krepp’  ‘Ellie and Elmer’  ‘Friends with Scissors’

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BetMGM operates pursuant to an operating agreement with Eye Gaming Ontario. Welcome to Dr. Creepen's Dungeon. Rain sounds the perfect backdrop to horror stories because they create an atmosphere of isolation, unease and creeping tension. The steady patter of rain against windows or the distant rumble of thunder sets a sombre, eerie mood, masking footsteps or unsettling noises in the dark. The relentless damp-pour can symbolise dread, trapping characters in their surroundings and making escape feel impossible. shadows stretch and distort under flickering street lights, while the cold damp air heightens a sense of vulnerability.

In horror rain isn't just weather, no, it's a silent accomplice to fear, as we shall see in tonight's collection of stories. Now, as ever before we begin, a word of caution. Tonight's tales may contain strong language as well as descriptions of violence and horrific imagery. That sounds like your kind of thing. And let's begin.

comes to my car, I have one rule and one rule only. No hitchikers. Now, my car is everyone's car. Really, if the Good Samaritan had a car, I'd be in the Bible. I had friends and family do everything to that tin cannon wheels, including popping tires, busting radios, open windows on rainy days. But hey, it's just a car. It's my baby. A deep blue range rover I bought for myself with myself earned money. But, at the end of the day, it's just a car, right? It's a useful thing to have when you want to go from point X to point Y.

But hey, cars come in multiple models. People, on the other hand, come in one edition each. If something bad happens to my car, yes, I'd be pissed, and I'd have to invest a lot of money into fixing it, or even buy a new one. But if something bad happens to a person I care about, that cannot be fixed. Whether it's mental or physical damage, I don't care. If there are people in the mix, I'd much rather have my car minced to dust right before my eyes than put it. someone in harm's way and this is exactly why I came up with this rule when people ask me if they can borrow my car no hitchhikers I don't care how

harmless they look just drive away there are some sick fucks out there and the worst thing is they are masters of disguise why take the risk in the first place what happens to strangers is none of you your business. You can make random acts of kindness on your way out of the supermarket by giving the local homeless person an apple out of the three kilos you bought. Why can find yourself in a two by two meter space with a total stranger? When you could just give them some coins or food. For Pete's sake, give them money for a subway ticket if there's really a place they need to get to. This way, you're both safe.

and you can get home with a clean conscience. Do whatever, just... Please. No hitchikers. Not in my car. It was late November. First snow of the year. It wasn't supposed to get dark until about half-past six,

but it was only 5pm, and the sky's tones were getting more depressing by the minute. Winter is coming. I laughed at my wannabe John's snow impression and ceased laughing as soon as I remembered that I used to watch Game of Thrones with my ex. She, that woman ruined so many shows for me. Julia dumped me half a year ago. She and I hadn't slept together in over seven months before our relationship ended. I wasn't the one to blame here.

I really gave it my all. Got myself a premium membership at the gym and everything. and whenever I tried to whine and dine her, she just played the tired card, just to hide the fact that the other man she was seeing had already whined and dined her that day, along with the other stuff I would have liked to do to her. I was thinking about my ex when I caught movement far ahead, just a figure in the distance, imitating a half-working windmill to get a driver's, any driver's attention. It was definitely not the first time I saw someone YMCAing me to pull over, but I never budged. No, hitchhikers. People are monstrous creatures, and I'm not taking risks.

I never even look in their direction. I don't need to know what their faces look like. Why would I do that? To see their mugs later on the national news, alongside a cringe-worthy title-like, roadkill with intent. No, thank you. Not me. I have enough shit going on as it is. I... I looked.

She was young. If not a teenager, then, in her early twenties. Or so I thought. She had long, beautiful legs. Her black skinny jeans outlining that perfectly. She was wearing sneakers and by the looks of her. She had walked quite a bit that day. Oh, her feet must be freezing, I thought.

The jacket she had on was also made of denim, and I owned two of those, so I know they're way too thin for a snowy day. Funnily enough, even though her outfit exclaimed chilly summer night from all angles, she had a fair cap and gloves on. I couldn't see her face, but her long, light brown hair was falling on her shoulders from underneath the cap beautifully.

And her gloves. Jesus, those gloves look like oven mitts. Oven mitts? Like, how can anybody resist a beautiful girl wearing oven mitts? Before realizing that I was slowing the car down, her face was close enough for me to catch green eyes and a smile of relief. Was I about to pick up a hitchhiker? Scared for my life, I stepped on the gas like my life depended on it.

Before she vanished out my rear-view mirror, I caught the sight of something else. Thinking that I was going to give her a ride, she took her backpack off and, bewildered, let it fall to her feet. That was one big-ass backpack. It looked twice her size and just as heavy. I could still see her mouth was agape before her outline blended in with the rest of the view I was leaving behind. You're such a stupid, paranoid idiot. Julie's words beamed from the inner side of my eardrums. It was her favourite thing to say.

Yes, my dad likes you. Yes, I locked the door. No, I'm not cheating on you. Even though my paranoia regarding that last one was spot on, I am aware that I'm over aware. The road was deserted and it was damn cold outside. Frostbite would start chewing up that girl's toes long before a car would pull over. And, let's be honest here, the hitchhikers aren't the only ones who might be monsters in disguise. Lo and behold

Even paranoid people have a conscience I'm no exception The road was empty So I risked driving in reverse I could see she stopped walking the second she saw me coming back She took a couple steps away from the car When I stopped next to her Lowering the passenger side's window

Need a ride She frowned at me Her oven mitts on the straps of her backpack Not sure Come on, get in It's freezing cold out here I don't mean the ride I mean you

Yes, well Your palette of choice isn't exactly wide now is it Her green eyes were piercing needles Into my own Why did you run off on me like that Um, let's just say I'm not a fan of hitchhikers. She chuckled.

That makes two of us. Where are you going? Chabville. Are you taking the highway or are you passing through Brington? You need to get to Brinton? Yeah. Good. Then that's the road I'm taking. Put your luggage in the back. I opened the trunk for her and heard a loud thud as she let her back drop.

She closed the trunk and hurried into the passenger. seat next to me. She shuddered violently as soon as she entered my car. Take your shoes off and bring your feet up to the heater. She gave me a wild-eyed stare. Isn't that, um, illegal or something? I'm quite certain amputation bills are more expensive than police tickets. Put your seatbelt on. Should I turn the heat up? Yes, please. I drove off as she fastened her seatbelt and brought her blue and purple socks on the air vent. She sighed in contentment and relaxed into the seat. Thanks for changing your mind. Don't mention it. I don't look like a serial killer on second glance, do I? Good serial killers usually don't. She laughed. Tushay. Please don't mind me

asking, but what in the world are you doing out in weather like this? In the middle of nowhere with a sack of bricks weighing you down. Living La Vida Loca. Good thing I came back for you. Because you'd be living La Mueira loco by now. She laughed so hard. I heard the seat shaking under her. Did somebody watch Spanish soap operas with Mommy when he was little?

Busted. I won't admit to anything. It was my aunt. And there was just this one TV in the house, all right? She laughed even harder. Not going to lie, it felt damn good to hear a woman react positively to my jokes again. What's your name? My head shot in her direction so fast, my neck was an inch away from snapping.

She'd taken the hat off, and her beautiful face was smiling at me from between her knees and my passenger seat. When it came to women, I was always the one asking the names. I asked Judy for hers when we first met, and the girlfriend before her, and the girlfriend before her. But I was never the one asked. Felix. I'm Mackenzie. Nice to meet you. Likewise, you're going home from work?

I sighed my answer. Yeah. That's the saddest year I've ever heard from a man who's got enough work. Then I guess you only are. men whose days aren't as shitty as mine. Why? What happened? I think I lost a deal today. Oh crap, are you in sales?

Worse. Real estate. Very few people know this about me. I hate my job, but I love talking about it. My type of woman lets me complain about work. My ideal woman, however, asks questions. How's that worse? If you were to choose between a mean mother-in-law and a violent husband, who would you choose? The monster-in-law?

That's sales. You have to confront the mother-in-law when she visits and... Yes, the house needs to be spotless, and you have to play perfect. But no matter how much crap she gives you, the visit always ends, and you get a chance to bitch about her to your girlfriends. The violent husband on the other hand is always there. And no matter how bad things get, unless you decide to finally leave the son of a bitch, not even your girlfriends will be of any help. Because it's not like you'd tell them anything, right? Have you ever been in sales?

Busted again. Not exactly, but I have friends who are and, by the sound of it, things are going really good for the them. Of course they are. If you are the one with the violent husband, but keep quiet about it, your friends will think you have an amazing marriage, which is why they'll want you to think that they're doing amazing as well, so that they don't feel inferior to you. Hey, that's stupid. They're my friends. Why would they do that? They're in sales. It's all about the competition. Have you ever been in sales? Yes, I have. I snapped my head back to water again. It didn't last long, though. Three months or so. I got fired for not reaching my target. Bummer.

Not exactly. I was relieved, actually. I hated it. I just needed the money. Yeah, don't we all? If you hate it so much, why don't you just quit and do something you really like? That's a great idea. You know what? I'll brush the dust off my guitar tonight and quit my job first thing in the morning. Awesome. Go for it. I laughed at her promptness. When I looked at her and saw earnest excitement on her face, I couldn't help but remember how it was like to be her age and dream big. Can't do that, kiddo. Rent doesn't pay itself, you know.

Besides, this is the real world we live in. You can be the best there is. Unless a good producer spots you, you're doomed. Then you'll just have to place yourself in the eyesight of a good producer. Easier said than done. Besides, looks matter way more than talent nowadays. Which is exactly why you should go for it. My neck started to hurt from the times I twisted to look at her.

She was dead serious. I hadn't been so intrigued by someone in ages. Hey, you're mocking me. Why would you think that? Don't you own a mirror? You got three in this car alone. Four if you count the sun. visor. You could put them to good use. She winked at me. Uh-huh. So you are a serial killer.

She laughed again. Either that, or I'm just somebody who listened to her heart and advises others to do the same. Okay, fine, you win. I'm curious. What's your story? She put her feet down. I don't have one yet, but I'm getting there. I'd rather hear what yours is. You seem like a smart girl, I'm sure you've already painted a picture. Oh, come on, play along. Not wanting to risk a stiff neck the next day. I looked at her from the corner of my eye. She looked like an alert kitten who was witnessing a can of her favorite food being opened right in front of her, grinning.

How old are you, if you don't mind me asking? I didn't mind. Just looking at her made me feel old. 29. Pt, 29. It looked like you're 50. Do you have any kids with a woman you hate? Um, no. Then you shouldn't be this lifeless. Let me know if you feel any different by the time you reach 29.

That's actually not too far ahead of me. You're kidding. How old are you? 25. Really? I would have said you're 20. 22 tops. When I was 22, somebody said I look like I'm 27. out. I should you not. But back then I didn't look like I was aging a year a day. How's that? Med school. I whistled. Dr. McKenzie? Sorry to disappoint, but I quit after three semesters. Why? What happened? No, wait, let me guess. Amused expectation had her raise her eyebrows

little. I'd known her for less than 15 minutes, and I could tell by the richness of her facial expressions, that she had a thing for performing arts. Uh, theatre? Mackenzie gasped and applauded my answer. Very good. I haven't been to the theatre in ages. Which do you work in? I'd like to see you perform sometime. I'm still in acting school, but I plan on auditioning for Krestovsky's Faustus and January. As Margaret? She paused for a couple of seconds, taking in the fact that I was decently cultured. Either her or Mephisto. You're kidding. You was Mephisto. What? You think I couldn't pull it off? She gave me a somehow seductive smirk. Yep, I was right about you. What do you mean? You really are a serial killer. She laughed again and I couldn't

I didn't help but notice that we were halfway to Brinton. Why are you slowing down? I looked at the speedometer. She was right. I was slowing down. I don't have my winter tires on. The weather is ruthless and I know some violent turns are coming up so I don't want to... Liar?

I looked at her and this time really looked at her. She was stunningly beautiful Really, and I don't mean that cover girl make-up commercial beauty I mean that fierce beauty The one that's witty and clever And likes to snap at the most trivial things Just to get into a fight to make the sex better You're slowing down because you want to make this ride longer

Busted again Can you blame me? I never picked up to up a hitchhiker before. My rights are never this interesting. I'm not complaining. I had goosebumps run up and down my arms. Last time I found like this was when Julie finally decided to come in for wine after we'd had dinner at a fancy restaurant. It was our fifth date or so and she was a little drunk. We didn't have sex because she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow. We had sex the following morning, but how can I put this nicely? I was never a morning person.

I think you're really cool, Felix. I really appreciate you giving me a lift. Don't mention it, Mackenzie. I'm happy I came back for you. Her hand crept on my knee. Her face was frozen, not throwing me glances to witness my reactions or anything. It was frozen,

as if she'd done this to me numerous times before. She looked as if we were having dinner with two of her friends, and her hand on my knee was her claiming ownership of me in front of everybody. I liked her hand there. I didn't want it retrieved. Can I ask you something? Her answer was as silent as the turn of her head towards me. Why are you carrying that big bag of bricks in weather like this? She removed her hand from my leg.

I didn't know it was going to get this cold. I was planning on walking home. Where were you? Her head snapped so suddenly in my direction. I heard her hair whip against the headrest. That's none of your business. She was right. You're right. It isn't. Mackenzie sighed and I drove for a couple of minutes in silence. I wanted to apologize so that I could get to talk to her again. I didn't know what I had to apologize for. Was I too intrusive? So was she. Why would I have to apologize for a feature we both had?

Have you ever been cheated on? Her voice sounded like the welcome bell of a candy shop. Big, angry snowflakes were trying to get through to us, but the windshield was ruthless. I loosened the pressure on the acceleration pedal. Julie popped into my head Even though we had so many good memories together I always went back to her wearing that horrible mustard-colored sweatshirts

The one she wore when she dumped me for her trainer Yeah How did it make you feel? That's a stupid question 30 seconds passed before I managed to get out of my head I'm sorry That was rude of me Don't be

You're right, it wasn't. a stupid question. This time, whether I liked it or not, I had to slow down, because the fog in front of me was turning from water to milk. I wanted to rip her head off. My hand was squeezing the gear shift so tightly I thought it would crack. I was angry with Julie. I was angry at her lover, but most of all I was angry with myself. I was angry with everyone. I heard a crescendo sigh coming from my right. McKenzie's beautiful face from the side was outlined by a wet trail cutting from her cheek to her chin. Me too. She looked at me and the world stopped. I too wanted to rip his head off. We drove in silence the rest of the way. As we saw the sign welcoming us to Brington, my traveling

companion asked me to pull over and just leave her anywhere. But I wanted to drive her home instead. I insisted. First row to the right, then left, then the second building on the right. And I stopped the car. I knew picking up strangers is not for me. Look what happens. First time I do this and I made you cry.

She laughed. It's good to cry. I can't afford a therapist, so. Her pretty face met mine with the most sincere smile she had given me yet. Thank you. I nodded. She reached for the handle. So, how did you deal with it? There was no need for her to ask what I was talking about.

She knew. Well, you know what they say about urges? I was all ears. I can't say I'm a big fan of Nike, but they do have this one slogan that is really inspiring. Just do it? Aha! She reached for the name.

the handle again. And did you? Her smile was a sad one, but there was a very strong hint of satisfaction within it. My name is not really McKenzie. I wasn't supposed to go on this trip I just returned from. Nobody saw you, but in case anybody asks, you've never seen me in your life, all right? I froze. She was waiting for a better reaction, so I knew. I know. She was waiting for a better reaction, so I nodded and muttered. I see. Just so you know, I memorized your license plate number. Please don't do anything I wouldn't want you to.

On closer look, her eyes were too green. No eyes were ever that green. Wasn't planning on it. I told her. My heart was pounding in my throat. Thank you for the ride, really. Don't mention it. She got out of my car and as soon as she ended her building,

the wig and the contacts came off before the gatekeeper got a chance to spot her. Luckily for me, my head was still clear enough for me to remember that I had to make another stop before going home. I went directly to the deep forest river on the opposite side of town. I popped the trunk open and, as expected, Mackenzie, or whatever her name was, was a terrible amateur.

Her backpack was bleeding from all angles. Fuck it, I was planning on washing the car anyway. I put on the oven mitt she'd left behind and dragged the bloody mess to the brim of the precipice, where I let it roll down into the river. Good thing the water didn't freeze. As a matter of fact, its surface was quite. clear. I could still make out the margins of the first backpack I dropped in there four months prior. I guess I could have told Mackenzie that Felix isn't my real name either, but I know where she

lives now. Don't know for how long, but I'll make sure we'll meet again before she has a chance to leave town. If I'd known that picking up hitchhikers would be so entertaining, I'd know, I'd I would have started doing it years ago. Dr. Ghanard was reading when he heard a knock on his office door. Friday, 7pm, was reserved for one person and one person only. Come in. I brought him, sir. Nurse Simons opened the door, and the first thing that doctor saw was the teenager's game face from behind the nurse's shoulder.

Ah, swell, swell. Let him in, please. The nurse stepped to the side. letting the boy enter. Thank you, Samantha. I'll take it from here. I want coffee. This was no surprise to the doctor,

but the nurse seemed appalled by the boy's shameless demand. Very well. Two coffees for me and my guest, please. Nurse Simons gave the doctor a long, questioning look. Something wrong, Sam? The boy asked, mocking me, over his shoulder. The nurse pressed her lips together, closed the office door and power walked to the kitchen to brew what had been requested.

I like her. The boy approached the doctor's table and sat down in front of him. Um, black pleat. The chess board was already arranged, and, yes, the black pieces were already on his side of the table. You've gotten predictable, the doctor said. I'll have you know. In chess, you've. have to choose the color with intellect, not superstition. The boy laughed. I'm far from being superstitious, Doc. I choose black because it's tougher to handle. Right. Oh, and the pieces are

shinier. Look, the white ones are sandy and boring. The doctor laughed at that remark, and made the first move. He loved playing chess with the boy. The kid might have only been been sixteen, but he could focus harder and invest more patients in the board than all of his university pals combined. The doctor needed some relaxation from the working week he'd had to endure. The institution he was running was, after all, one of a kind. Ever had that one kid in school who everybody would turn out to be a psycho-serial killer, well, unless he finds an outlet for his bad stamina, such as sports, sex, or? digital realities. Well, in earlier times, when a kid would throw a tantrum, it was just a kid

throwing a tantrum until that tantrum resulted in bloody murder. Nowadays, tantrums are being taken a bit more seriously, too seriously at times. Dr. Gannard's specialty is to differentiate between plain old mood swings and serious signs of mental illness. The clinic he's running is a perfect place to hospitalise a child in case one can't tell whether he belongs at home or in a sanitarium. The patient's complete evaluation would usually take somewhere between three to seven months. However, there were cases in which the end results were too shallow, and the patient had to stay hospitalized for two more months after the seven-month period was over. Marius had been a patient for almost a year.

Concentrate! the doctor said firmly after snatching a black rook from the boy's side of the board Marius grinned in contempt due to his opponent's previous move he managed to take a bishop from right under his nose I am Marius was losing however

he had lost the previous week too and the week before that he knew that the doctor could tell his head wasn't in the game anymore who could blame him the clock was ticking. Son, your results came in. The doctor heard a soft, crumbling of fabric coming from Marius's direction.

He didn't have to look under the table because he knew that the boy had a death grip on his pants where his palms were resting. And... The doctor tried putting on the most angry adult face he could muster. If he had to scare the boy upright, he knew he had to play smart. Really smart.

Smarter than before. I am very upset with you. And why is that? Because you lied to both Dr. Rakesh and Dr. Sullivan. What makes you think I lied, Doctor? Well, probably because both of them consulted with one another after interviewing you and also took a look on your CB test. I know it, and so do you.

Your answers don't match your brain activity. Marius's eyes moved from the chessboard to the man in front of him. He knew it was coming. The clinic was famous for the CB test. It was very similar to a lie detector test, but more elaborate. The patient was exposed to,

different video footage, some of which was incredibly violent. In the process, his or her reactions were not only measured through your standard brain scan, but also through heart rate, body temperature, pupil dilation, vocal reactions, muscle contractions, skin humidity, and tactile sensitivity. Yes, tactile sensitivity. The test was first named Impacto, but since that name was considered, to be stupid by most of the staff members. They just adopted the name CB, which the hospitalised children had given it throughout the years, CB being short for Cannonball. I wasn't lying.

Oh really? To Marius's big surprise, Dr. Gannard took a stack of papers out of the draw nearest him, as if he had specifically waited for him to say that. If that, if that That's the case. Mind telling me why you told Dr. Sullivan that you, and I quote, get off on tiny animals getting skinned alive, whereas your EEG portrays signs of severe distress when you're shown such footage. I'd be happy to do the EEG again. Yes, but the CB test isn't made out of just the brain scan, Marius. Your entire body was rigid with fear and your face muscles were cut. contorted in disgust all throughout the test. Yeah, but...

This was your fourth CB test these past six months. I've never had a patient who required more than two. Reflexer, how messed up I am. Rakesh said, you cried during the part with the kitten. He's a piece of shit, and you should mind hiring more competent doctors. Dr. Gannard's fist met with... with his desk, with an echoing slam, followed by merciless plops of chess pieces on the floor. I'm done with you trying to take me for an idiot. Marius finally managed to get him angry.

The boy knew this day would come eventually, and even though it came considerably later than it should have, he wasn't ready for it. I'm neither Akeesh, nor am I son of him, so you better start explaining to me what this crap is all. all about. It's been a year, boy, a year! You've been here longer than some doctors I've employed, and it's high time we get to the bottom of your condition. What is there to explain? I'm ill. No, you're not. Yes, I am. Then why do all your psychological evaluations tell me you're the sanest, healthiest patient I've ever housed? Because your methods are, and outdated. I'm a sick and disgusting human being, and I deserve to be locked up forever.

Marius broke. He brought his hands up to his face in shame, as tears violently spilled out of his enraged teenage eyes. Dr. Gannard watched him for a half a minute, waiting for the boy to unload some of his demons before dropping the bomb on him. Marius, I'm sending you home. No, Marius sobbed quietly. I'm sorry, son, but I have no choice. Yes, you do. Lock me up. Fucked in the head. I'll sign anything, just please, don't make me go back there.

Dr. Gannard considered his next move very carefully. He got up and around his table to crouch down next to Marius's seat, something he never did with a patient before. But he had gotten attached to the boy, and it infuriated him that no matter how many tests he took, no matter how many discussions he had with him, he never found anything out of the ordinary, something, anything that would explain the child's paranoia. Listen to me, Marius. Look at me. Marius made an effort to keep tears from blurring his vision. you will be 18 in less than 14 months you will be an adult and you'll be allowed to move out of your parents' house

if you dislike it so much 14 months is not a very long time you don't understand listen to me if there's something you're not telling us domestic violence physical abuse or anything objective about your family which you've hidden from us

I'd be happy to put you in touch with. What? Domestic violence and physical abuse? Dude, my mom and dad were the sweetest, most loving parents in the whole freaking world. They still are, son. This, this right here is the exact reason why I lie to you people. No shit tests you run un-useless. Nobody believes me. You demand truth, but when it comes to mind, you're all deaf and blind. And what is your truth, Marius? Oh, fuck, no. I'm done repeating myself.

You don't believe a word I'm saying. You think I'm mental. He chuckles after hearing himself. Ironic, isn't it? You think I'm mental, and yet you insist on sending me back home. God, what is the purpose of this place again? Tell me one thing, boy. How can a mental asylum be better for you than your warm, welcoming home?

Marius got up and started pacing around the office, trying to shake off the need to break down in tears again. You know, this place is too big for just two housemates. What are you suggesting? I'll clean, all day, every day, no day's off, no nothing. You don't even have to pay me, just let me stay here. I couldn't do that even if I wanted to. Why not? Because your parents are still your legal guardians,

and they requested to have you discharged. Marius went livid as that information sunk in. There it was the ultimate resolve. He could cry all the rivers in the world. It would not prolong his stay this time. didn't I already tell you, Doc? He stared the man in the eye, and even though Dr. Gannard had heard this hundreds of times before,

it still sent shivers down his spine. Those things are not my parents. Rakesh always refused Gnard on his wine-office, until to-night. Sullivan was already pouring his second glass, and the three doctors hadn't even begun to discuss. us why they were having their Saturday evening meeting on a Thursday afternoon. Gentlemen, I'm running out of ideas. Gnard's exhausted forehead greeted the expecting palm of his

hand. Sullivan and Rakesh sunk on their heads in agreement, taking several minutes to think of a smart way to break the silence. Wouldn't it be a good idea, Sullivan attempted, to try the hypnosis again. Definitely not. We tried it, and he had the worst panic attack I've ever seen. I agree with Barvin, Gnard said gravely. Not going to lie. I did consider it for a while, but it's too risky.

We're trying to make his traumas go away, not get worse. Precisely. Besides, hypnosis has never worked on patients with capgras before. Sullivan emptied his glass, reaching for the bottle to pour another. I still don't agree with that diagnosis, Bav. The Capgras syndrome prevents people from recognizing loved ones because they can't connect their faces to the feelings they're supposed to have for them. Which is precisely Marius's case.

Wrong. We showed Marius' pictures of his family from back when he was little. He has nothing but love for his parents and sisters. Remember the joy in that boy's face when we asked him to tell us about the day he got lucky for his 10th birthday? We even have the proper CT and EEG to prove it. Capgras patients are exactly the same. You're wrong. Capgras patients can't recall feelings.

They suffer from a disconnection on a cognitive level. And you mean Marius doesn't? He's saying his entire family was murdered and replaced by doppelgangers for common. Christ's sake. You show me one Capgras case, one in which the patient tells his story with absolutely no gaps in it. Just one case, Barvin, and I'm putting your name in my will. If you'll leave me both the mansion and the lady, I'd be more than happy to research with you, Don. Don't bother. Gnard's voice sounded like something on the other side of a tombstone. The two doctors looked at him, waiting in vain for him to lift his head out of his hand.

I searched for a Capgras case that comes close to Marius's. The doctor removed the hand from his heavy skull and reached for his bottom desk drawer. He retracted a rather big stack of papers and threw it on the table, missing the wine glasses by just a few millimeters. Almost two hundred type-ridden pages landed in front of rakish and size. For the first time in my career, I got nothing. Whoa, you've ridden quite a bit for someone who's got nothing, Sullivan remarked. The curious case of Marius Crip.

Sounds like a creepy pastor if you ask me. Are you mocking me, Donovan? Sullivan jerked in his seat. Dr. Gannard's eyes revealed the fury of a desperate man. not necessarily pointed at him, but irritable nonetheless. All gibberish. I thought I was on to something when Marius said he doesn't remember how the dog was killed. Capgras patients don't have explanations for how doppelgangers replace their loved ones,

but Marius, as you both know, that boy has an entire story behind it. Rakesh and Sullivan pressed their lips together and nodded. Yeah, but you say he doesn't remember how the dog was killed? Yes, because while that happened, he was tied in the basement and was forced to watch someone or something making a copy of his mother. What happened to the mother afterwards again? She turned to water. Can we blame his passion for horror literature on his wild imagination? Hardly.

I confiscated all his dark books and DVDs for the past six months. I asked him to repeat his story two weeks ago. The story remains the same. Could we, um... Sullivan began, but Rokie shook his head violently in his direction. Could we what, Donovan? Rikish gave Sullivan a very disapproving glance. Sullivan inhaled deep.

I know that I'm suggesting a very unorthodox method, but couldn't we suspend the boy's senses somehow and ask him to tell us again what happened? You mean, drug him. There was silence in the room. Gannard placed his forehead in his comforting hand anew. Rikish whispered something like, I told you to keep your mouth shut,

in Sullivan's direction, and as Sullivan tried whispering back in his defence, Dr. Gannard's right-hand snap towards the wine-bottle, brought it to his lips, and kept it there until it was completely empty. He placed it back on the table with a gentle ding. I've tried that, too. Rikish and Sullivan grasped, greedily awaiting further details. I like playing chess with the boy. He's highly intelligent. I once told him, if he beats me, I'll share a bottle of whiskey with him.

Let's just say, I let him win. The other two exchanged worried glances. Max, he's only 16 years old. Oh, Donovan, you just suggested I drug the boy, and now that I beat you to the punch, you want to go missed a conscience on me. I thought you hated him. hypocrites. Sullivan twitched. I'm sorry. Gnarred shook his head apologetically. Please don't take it to heart. It's just, well, I'm desperate.

Sullivan nodded, and Rakesh reached out his arm to place it on Gannard's shoulder. How did it go? He asked. Look at the dark circles under my eyes. What do you think? No breakthrough, huh? nothing I found out he read one of his mother's Sandra Brown novels and liked it that Barker is the horror master

not king that he hates Crystal Andrews for telling the entire class he's a bad kisser but what he had to say about the night of the 28th of May 2016

was no news to me the story stays exactly the same this time Rakesh looked distressed What else did you try? It was Sullivan's turn to whisper disapprovingly. Hot.

Rekish and Sullivan's eyes widened. Oh, come on, boys. We're doctors. We all know the good it can do. Well, in limited amounts, of course. The two mumbled approvals. Still nothing? Nothing. And what worries me most is that I actually feel.

that I've earned his complete trust. He likes me. Of that I am certain. Judge me if you must, dear friends, but I came to the conclusion that this boy is no liar. Nobody said he is, Max. He's simply ill. We just need to find the cure for his illness. Gannard looked at his knuckles. Bones were protruding more than usual. He had lost weight. "'Do we?' To the other surprise. Dr. Gannard placed another bottle of wine on the table. He took his time opening it, and spoke,

after he'd managed to fill all three glasses, and placed the bottle back where he took it from. "'I say, we look upon the matter from a different perspective.' "'And which might that be?' Gnard stared at his glass, admiring the deep, rich colour of his liquid ease. Hmm, hypothetically speaking, he looked at his partners,

and his deep blue eyes told them everything they needed to hear. Sullivan and Rakesh suddenly feared for their bosses' sake. Marius told us the truth. The silence that followed was tense. Gannard thought his partners were as open-minded as he was, but they were no fans of David Hume, nor were they as long in the field to truly be able to tell the difference between an ill person and a healthy one.

Marius's mind was a healthy one. Of that much, he was certain. The truth is objective, you know, Rikish said timidly, I disagree. We know you do. Sullivan interfered. You bring yourself to the patient's level,

and that's exactly why you're a good doctor. And also why I'm a bad one, right? No, that's not what I... Understand him, Ghanard thought to himself. Max, I think you need to take a break from this case for a while. Gnard had to bite his tongue down, not to bark at Rakesh to mind his own business. I don't think I need to.

Rakesh and Sullivan both knew what that statement meant. They let out a silence I have relief. I plan on sending the boy home. Now, from a clinical point of view, it was a very bad decision, seeing how the boy's condition didn't get any better in the past year, but the doctors were running out of books to read, and Marius was a thorn in their intellect. Medically speaking, the boy's mental health was obvious,

which means he was probably just seeking attention. Healthy or not, the entire staff wanted to get rid of him. All except one, that is. I'm meeting the parents tomorrow morning. I'll try explaining the verdict, and I'll decide where to go from there. But if all goes well, Marius, will be out of here by Saturday afternoon.

Rikish and Sullivan finished their glasses with subtle smiles on their faces, and for the first time in over two decades, Dr. Gannard regretted ever hiring. Next morning, Dr. Gannard was finishing his first of three coffees when he heard the knock at the door. It was too soft to be Nurse Simons, and too firm to be somebody's whose visit was not expected. "'Come in.' Marius' parents did just that. They were early, just like the doctor had asked them.

"'Ah, Mr. and Mrs. Crette, "'thank you so very much for coming this early.' After exchanging pleasantries, the pair sat down in front of the doctor. Even though both of them tried to look fresh and excited about taking their son home, exhaustion dug into their features as mercilessly as time did. Would you like some coffee? Mrs. Krep flinched. She was taken aback by Nurse Simon's presence behind her.

Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't hear you come in. No coffee for me, please. I'd like a glass of water, if possible. Of course, madam. Anything for you, sir? Water sounds good. Thank you. After placing two glasses of water in. in front of Mr. and Mrs. Krem. The nurse left the office in a hurry.

Ah, I see you're not big fans of coffee, the doctor remarked. The two were slightly surprised by his observation. You have paid me monthly visits for the past year, and not once did you take Samantha up on her offer of coffee. There was silence for a couple of seconds. We don't actually like coffee very much. Mr. the Kreb said. Our house-odd is sort of coffee-free. We only buy some when we expect company, completed Mrs. Krabb. Well, you're going to have to buy some pretty soon, because Marius loves this stuff. Dr. Gannard raised his mug slightly in front of the two, both in cheers, as well as in demonstration of his statement. As his head pulled back to enjoy the last mouthful of the

liquid black gold, the CREPS exchanged a quick glance. Now that, the doctor placed his empty mug in the far end corner of his desk, and reached for the drawer where he knew he'd find Marius's latest test results. You've let him drink coffee? Mrs. Creps' eyebrow was twitching. I thought we talked about how serious our son's insomnia's are. "'Honey? Oh, don't you honey me, Christopher.' Mrs. Krep placed both her hands flat on the desk, her elbows demanding more space.

"'Doctor, my son's sleepless nights are what caused this insanity in the first place. "'We know you're a professional, and we entrusted you with taking care of Marius, "'but for that we agreed on one thing, and one thing only. No coffee.' "'Mrs. Crette, this may come as a shock to you, "'but a cup of coffee in the morning is a stimuli for a rich, eventful day, "'and the more energy you invest, the more you are guaranteed to have a—' "'No! No coffee! We didn't agree on you picking up new rules as you go along. "'We said no coffee from the get-go.

"'Honey!' "'This time it was Dr. Gannard, who lifted his hand to silence Mr. Crabb. Your son hasn't had a visitor for a whole entire year. What are you talking about? I'm not talking about you and your husband, Mrs. Krabb. He refuses to see you. Therefore you don't count. Mrs. Kreb looked insulted.

I'm talking about friends. Classmates, other relatives. Nobody has come to see him. And that boy has been the perfect patient. No, trying to run away, no complaining about the food, no sneaking girlfriends inside the facility when the guards aren't paying attention. His room is always clean, and nobody has had anything to complain about the way the bathrooms look after he has taken a shower. Now, if you've been in this business for as long as I have, you really learn to appreciate a patient that minds others. On top of that, everybody here loves him.

Now, I know what we agreed upon, but... You see, Marius never asked for special treatment. He never demanded anything from me, except coffee. He loves it, and here it's free for everybody anyways. I'm sorry, but I couldn't refuse your son's one and only pleasure throughout his stay. Mrs. Crepe's elbows withdrew to her sides, and her palms contracted into fists. She didn't say anything to get back at the doctor, violating their agreements, but her stare didn't show that she approved his actions either.

Now, can we please discuss your son's latest test results? The mother was too angry to talk, medical stuff, well, rationally anyway. She turned her head to the side, giving cue to her husband to take over. Yes, of course. The doctor turned to the husband. We've already discussed the possibility of Marius suffering from Capgras syndrome, a disease which doesn't allow him to link familiar faces to the emotions they're supposed to provoke. Yes.

We have reasons to believe the illness in question is not Capgras at all. What are you trying to say? You see, Capgras is a psychiatric delusion that derives from paranoid schizophrenia. Well, except for the belief that you two have been replaced by unearthly impostors, Marius shows no signs of mental instability whatsoever. Mrs. Krep laughed dryly. Replaced by unearthly imposter's. Ridiculous.

Honey, please. Oh, give me a break, Christopher. Tell me, doctor. If our son would have told you he saw Santa Claus on a cold August night, Would you have laughed in his face or told us he needs psychological evaluation? Because, no offence, I don't see how the first option, justifiable as it is, would have brought you any income. Cheryl, that's enough. You mean to say, I've been keeping your son here for the money?

I don't mean to point fingers at anyone, but it's not like you're funded by the state or something. Now, is it, doctor? her. Mr. Krep's face was burning with shame for his wife. He was trying to apologize for her behaviour, but the woman's word shook the doctor so achingly deep he couldn't even find the proper tone to defend himself. I'm not keeping him here for the money, ma'am. The woman puffed and crossed her arms over her chest. Dr. Gannard was struggling to come up with an appropriate way of telling her that he'd grown fond of the boy, and that the reason, he still kept him in the clinic, was that he was genuinely worried for both Marius, as well as

the rest of the family's sake. There was a minute of silence, as Dr. Gannard mentally evaluated if telling Marius' parents the recent test results would be of any use. He decided, spontaneously, he wanted the two of them out of his office, so he cut straight to the chase. From a clinical's perspective, your son is as healthy as can be. Mr. Krep shifted in his seat. I'll sign his release tomorrow. Why not today? Mrs. Krep was making eye contact again.

We're here. The car's outside. It makes no sense to me why we'd postpone this for tomorrow. But I do. He's been, by far, my mother. favorite patient in years. I need to explain this to him properly. It's a sudden decision either way. I don't want to make things worse for him than they need to be. What in the world are you talking about? We're his parents. We're the ones who brought him to you in the first place.

Outbursts like this one is why the doctor never considered marriage. Mr. Kreb took his spouse's hand in his own. But are you sure we'll be able to pick him up to him? tomorrow. If he needs another week or so to settle with the thought, we'll be more than happy to wait. Mrs. Krep was on the verge of dismissing that possibility, but one look from her husband reminded her who was wearing the pants in this family. No, I already told Marius he'll be going home this Saturday. I think him going home tomorrow is for the best. We don't want to give him too much time, for he might just use it to plan something none of us would wish for. The couple understood what the doctor was going to say.

Is that all right? They both nodded. By the time Mr. Krep got up to shake the doctor's hand, Mrs. Krep was already out of the office. Please excuse my wife's behaviour, doctor. She's still upset because of the coffee situation. I understand. I'm truly sorry if I violated her trust,

but the boy really loves his daily cup of juice. Joe? Yeah, I know. Takes after his good old dad. Mr. Krep shrugged. There's nothing I can do, Doc. My wife's a nutritionist. She knows his stuff better than me. She usually says nothing when our daughter's empty the cookie jar in one go, but caffeine is a complete no-go. Bone-crusher is what she calls it. The doctor frowned. Even green tea? for a second Mr. Kreps seemed to be at a loss for words. Yeah. That's odd.

I never heard of a nutritionist banning green tea before. It's full of antioxidants. So is fruit. The doctor tried not to show that Mr. Kreps' remark bothered him somewhat. Indeed, he said, smiling at him with almost no laugh lines to show. Mr. Kreps smiled back and assured him. they'd come back the following day around 10 a.m. to take his son home. The doctor nodded in agreement and watched him leave his office.

Gannard turned to the window behind his desk, and watched as Nurse Simon's translucent form open the door timidly. Two big cups of coffee, darling. I'll have mine with almond milk and a tablespoon of honey. The nurse nodded. Should I get married us to come see you? There's no need for you to do that. Marius is here.

Marius' hand crept from behind the doctor's chair in the far end corner of the office. The boy revealed himself, scaring the nurse half to death, even though the doctor warned her about his presence mere seconds prior. I'll have mine black sam. Thanks. The lady nodded and left to bring the coffee. She sometimes wondered whether Dr. Gnard's therapy methods. were genius, or were they just straight up insane?

Hours passed, and Marius had yet to win a match against the doctor. He was definitely trying. Ginnard could tell that much. Could we please address the elephant in the room? Marius was looking for ways to get Gennar's bishop without having to sacrifice his queen in the process. You're ruining my concentration. I know. But we're running out of time.

You mean I'm running out of time? The boy made a move. Your turn. But first, can I have another cup of coffee? Gannard was addicted to the dark elixir himself. He felt so sorry for the boy, knowing he'd have to live either without it or drink it sneakily for the next year or so.

Sure, think, Kit. You can have as much coffee as you like. "'Can I have the next one with a shot of bourbon in it?' "'As long as you don't tell anyone. "'I'd like to keep my job, if that's all right. "'I won't tell a soul. "'I hope you that much.' "'Gernard confiscated Marius's queen,

"'and the boy led her a long and whining negation. "'The doctor laughed at the pitiful face he made. "'Gee, you won again.' "'No, I didn't. "'Not yet, at least.' Marius moved his king to a very vulnerable position. That was stupid of you. I disagree.

We both know I'm stuck. I'm just saving us ten minutes. Gannard looked at him. It was easy to see that Marius was clinging to every minute that separated him from the following morning. Can I go ask Sam for another coffee? The doctor smiled sympathetically. You sure love coffee, huh? No, I don't.

The doctor wouldn't have been more surprised, even if a bullet had been shot through the window right then and that. You're choking, right? Marius shook his head. As long as I have caffeine in my system, those things won't be able to touch me. He'd heard the boy's theory before, and, just like the first time, he was fishing for information with the fascination of a child. And why is that? Caffeine has an effect on those things like sodium has on demons. It sets up a barrier they cannot cross.

And how do you know that, if I may ask? I told you, on the night they got to my family, I was writing an essay that was due the following day. I had two red bulls that evening, and they sensed it. They made me watch as they were copying my parents, in hope that I'd piss myself. The boy was telling the story with such ease now. The doctor could hardly believe it took him almost two months of therapy

to get it out of him in the first place. Doc, do you ever get scared? What do you mean? So scared you pissed yourself. If he were any other patient, Gannard would either have snapped at them or simply lied. But this was no ordinary patient. This was Marius. his chess partner and the most intriguing case he had ever dealt with yes i did marius looked at him expectantly oh you don't want to know yes i do

at that very moment something inside the doctor's head clicked he had opened pandora's box and he knew it i was thirty-one i was thirty-one and he was thirty-one, I woke up unusually late that morning, and, on my way to school, I saw three of my classmates torturing a stray dog in the park next to the school premises. It was too early for the streets to be crowded, and way too late for me to get to class on time. I'd never been the heroic type, but I've always been an animal lover. I dropped my bag and went straight to them, yelling at them to leave the pup alone, and that that they were being cruel. Gnard's chest felt tight.

They laughed at me. The fat one came at me, punched me and threw me to the ground. I tried defending myself, but I was a small and bony kid. Puberty was a year and a half ahead of me. The fat kid forced me to my knees with my hands behind my back.

He was pulling my hair so that all I could see were the other two. Marius's fingernail. were digging in his knees. He had a feeling where the story was going, but he couldn't find the words to ask the doctor to stop. The kid in the orange sweater was holding the dog by a leg. I don't remember his name, nor his face, but I remember Jason, the third kid. Jason liked playing with firecrackers. Marius covered his nose and mouth with his hands, his eyes pleading for the doctor to stop. But Gannard warned him, and there was no turning back.

Jason said, If you tell anyone you're next. And then he lit up a firecracker. Oh no, please stop. And placed it, and the dog snows. Marius hid his face behind the palms of his hands. I pissed myself after it exploded. Several minutes passed until the boy.

broke the silence. That was shitty of you to tell me. You wanted to know? He removed his hands from his face, revealing gleaming cheeks. Why are you crying? The boy stared the doctor down with pure hatred in his eyes. Did my story remind you of your own dog? Marius avoided eye contact. I think it's about time you tell me what really happened to it. The pause that followed was heavy. As heavy as water when felt from the bottom of the ocean. Lucky! Marius clenched his fists like one wood when trying to bend iron bars.

The dog's name was Lucky. An inexplicable shiver crept up and down the doctor's spine. It was something about the way Marius said the dog's name, that made him want to call his parents and tell them that he is adopting the boy. Something about his eyes that made him see, no, not Marius Krep, but himself, Maximus Benjamin Gnard, a 13-year-old boy who peed his pants because he was too weak to save a dog. Marius looked at him with so much hatred that, well, he was. finally understood. He understood wasted typewriter ribbons and over 200 pages of writing a thesis

on a patient that was undoubtedly completely healthy. He finally understood why he'd kept Marius for a year in the clinic because he believed him. He believed every single word that came out of that boy's mouth. I'll tell you what happened to Lucky-Haur. But first, you tell me what those demons told you. They told me. Lucky never existed. Did they now? That much was to be expected.

Marius had an explanation for every aspect of his trauma. Dr. Gannard stopped being surprised by the fluency of his story months ago. They killed him before they managed to make a believable copy. Those things can't copy what they can't see They tried copying Lucky after killing him But it was no use The head The head was all messed up

The ears were off and the left side of his face was droopy Somehow and its eyes were dead Everybody could tell that it was no ordinary dog They didn't want to risk it I understand Oh I doubt it What happened to lucky afterwards.

What does it matter? You don't believe me anyways. Just tell me. Can't you just... Marius started crying again. Can't you stop fucking with my head already? I don't want to remember this shit. This is the last night of ease I get before going back there.

His voice broke, but the doctor was as rigid as sandpaper. I'll ask again. and this time you better quit being a sissy. The boys' wet eyes widened. Gnard had never used that tone with him before. What did they do with Lucky's body afterwards? And that's when Marius understood. He wasn't alone anymore.

They buried him in the backyard, by the oak tree, towards east. Go get yourself a cup of coffee, and then go to your room. Are we making a farewell inventory now, or after I get my coffee? Oh, there will be no farewell inventory. Dr. Gannard stood up. You're not going anywhere. He drank coffee after coffee, and Red Bull after Red Bull. His head was racing, and his conscience was screaming at him in the voices of his mother,

his university teachers, and all his respected friends and colleagues from the medical field. don't do it, don't do it, don't do it, don't do it. But he knew he had to do it. It was the only way to know for sure. If Marius' family had been killed and replaced by doppelgangers, there's no way he'd let them have the boy. Dr. Gannard stopped the car in front of the house at 52 Bourbon Street, the CREP residence.

His watch showed 302. A.m., and the house, as well as the suburban neighbourhood that surrounded it, was dark and quiet. Dead to the world, with a revival appointment for after the sun comes back up. Gannard got out of his car and got a shovel and a hoe out of his trunk. The neighbourhood was a quiet one, and, as with all safe neighbourhoods, the fences were just shitty excuses for delimitating private properties from common asphalt. Gannard stepped over the fence like it wasn't even there. He gave subtlety a try by ducking and approaching the backyard on all fours in the safety of shadows projected by pompous flower bushes.

It was dark, but the streetlights that were peppered here and there illuminated enough for him to find the oak tree. It was a beautiful tree, thick and elegant, rising above the level of the house, guarding over its inhabitants, but not forget. getting to also keep a watchful eye over the rest of the neighbourhood. It was the perfect place for burying bodies. Gnard wasted no time. The shovel cut through the portion of earth, showing east, with the fury of someone who was trying to dig out a lover that had been buried alive. He was merely two feet deep in the ground,

when sweat started tickling his brow. The doctor dug and dug and dug, and dug. and for a second he actually started having second thoughts about the whole thing was he the mad one he was a renowned doctor his office walls were full of rewards

and recognitions and yet here he was digging out of patient's backyard because of a supernatural possibility he was about to insert the sharp head of the tool into the ground again but then

he saw something rather odd in the soil. A weird texture. Something that shouldn't belong within the earth, but above it. It was the same colour as the dirt it was sunken into, but Gannard knew it was something else. He knelt down and patted with the tips of his fingers. Hair. He was, most definitely, touching fur. The doctor led out a small gasp and continued digging for the dog with his bare hands. What a beautiful animal it must have been while it was still alive, he thought. He removed the earth of the dog's torso as best he could, but his main objective was to uncover

the pet's head. Dr. Gannard grabbed the hoe and began removing the fertile clay from the animal's skull. It took him several minutes, and even more pets, to discover that. Where the head was supposed to be, they were. was, well, nothing, just bits of flesh that dried out, feeding the oak tree next to it, as if someone or something ate its way out of the poor thing, as if someone or something bit its head off, as if someone or something, who placed a firecracker in his snout. Marius's words echoed in the doctor's head. They killed him before they managed to make a believable copy. They can't

copy what they can't see. Gannard saw red before his eyes. His life thus far, his career, his patience, his colleagues and prestige, none of it mattered. All that mattered was that he was angry and that someone had to pay. Dr. Gondon. What are you... The doctor didn't even miss a beat. As soon as he heard Mr. Krep's voice behind him, he grabbed the shovel resting next to him and turned with the speed of light,

smacking the man's face with it. At least that's what he intended to do. He wanted to immobilize the creature and ask it who sent it to the human world and what its business was. He wanted to immobilize all of them, See if they reacted to blessed crosses and holy water, because, if not, Dr. Gannard would have to buy sacks upon sacks of coffee,

not to mention energy drinks and tea-backs. However, the sound the shovel made when it came into contact with the thing's head was not your usual thumb. It was fleshy, sharp and fleshy, like the sound of a butcher knife when penetrating a fat pig's, belly. Furthermore, the thing that landed on the ground didn't move. It spasmed once or twice, but it stopped moving shortly after. It was dark outside, but by now the doctor's eyes had adjusted to the scenery enough to know that what was oozing out of the thing's head was blood.

Human blood. Gnard approached the body, and with a gasp, dropped the shovel right. next to it. He had cut Mr. Krep's face across the eyes. The left eye was still stuck in the shovel's blade, white and full of veins, with a long, red, interrupted connection to a vital part of a very human brain. If these creatures could only copy what they could see, how would they know what the back of a human eye looks like? No, what have I done? What have I done. He had two women screaming and a little girl crying. He heard Mrs. Kreb yelling to her oldest daughter to get her sister and lock themselves in the bedroom. The woman was screaming at the dispatcher to send somebody straight away because her son's psychologist had just gone psycho himself.

Time stopped for the doctor. He stared at Mr. Kreps' corpse and the shovel resting next to him, thinking what he could possibly do to reverse the whole encounter. He stared at the corpse, with tears running down his face, muttering words of apology. He only moved from the spot when four police officers pulled their guns on him, demanding of him to raise his hands up. He couldn't see them. Neither could he hear them. Seeing that their orders were falling upon a mind that had shut itself down, Two police officers tackled and cuffed him, dragging his defenceless form towards the car. Ghanard felt nothing.

His head was back in the psychiatric clinic, where he was replaying every discussion he'd ever had with Krep's son. Suddenly finding the biggest and most obvious gap in the boy's story, he had asked Marius numerous times, why his parents would want to hospitalise him if they were actually out to get him. His answer was prompt and precise. These things want to fit in, he said. They want to blend in with us humans, learn our ways and habits. They hospitalized me because I was being hysterical and the neighbors hurt me. They hospitalized me because it was the proper human thing.

thing to do? How would they know what a proper human would do in that situation if the things could only copy what they could see? Maximus Benjamin Gannard had nothing to say in his defense. Not even his lawyer could be of any help. The good man tried desperately to convince Gannard to bejule his side of the story with a pitiful read-its of the stray dog and firecracker event from his childhood. Gannard didn't budge. By the time the trial was over, Gannard had his attorney tearing his hair out. I'm as guilty as the worst of them, he said. I'm a sad excuse for a human being and a disgrace to my profession.

No punishment would be severe enough, Your Honor. And the judge agreed with him, trespassing, violating private property, and first-degree murder. Dr. Gannard was on his way to a place. where the thought of freedom was just as fantastic as the plot of a sci-fi novel. Doc, you got a visitor. Gannard turned his face to look at Officer Novak. He was confused. He would only still receive visits from Samantha on the first Wednesday of every month,

but today was Sunday, and he'd seen the nurse just four days prior. I keep asking you nicely not to call me that. I'm not getting paid, be nice to you, your shit-needing, shovel-waving ass crack. I said, you got a visitor, Doc. Gannard let out a tired exhale. He turned his head back to Deshaun, the only friend he had in his sector. They were playing chess, and it was his turn to move. Rain check, the old man asked, with an understanding smile on his face. No, it's unexpected, so it's unimportant. I don't

like unannounced visits, so I'll make it quick. Wait for me. Gnard sat up. Oh, don't bother moving the pieces. I know exactly where I left everything. Didn't even cross my mind, Max. Hey, listen. Lunch is in 20.

In case you don't show up by then, you want me to wait, or should I go on without you? I'll be back in time for lunch, as well as this match. You never know, man. I just told you how I feel about unexpected visits. Death's the only unexpected visit, my friend. Gnard smiled at the witty comment and followed Novak to the visitation room. He didn't even bother looking at his visitor while approaching.

He already knew who it was, either Rakesh or Sullivan. Those pieces of garbage. Gnard killing Mr. Krep was the best thing that had ever happened to their purpose. personal finances, the two of them cashed in on his 200-page case study, and after getting their hands on it, the press was merciless. They extracted quotes out of a paper that was supposed to be for sheer scientific purposes, and gave them outrageous contexts. According to the media, Dr. Kinnard had planned to kill Mr. Krep all along, because he was somehow infatuated with Marius and wanted him to become his own son.

Gannard took a seat and grabbed the receiver. At first, he didn't recognize him. His shoulders were broader, and he had facial hair. His hair was different, too. Style and posture weren't the same either. The boy had grown. Marius! Gnard's voice broke, his sight getting blurry.

He started shaking his head slowly, overwhelmed by the unexpected encounter. Hey, Doc, how have you been? Gnard's lacrimal glands ruptured before his former patient, making him feel pitiful and angry for not being better prepared. Come on, man, put yourself together. Don't make me start the waterworks too. The former doctor wiped his eyes and nose rapidly. It cost him a lot of courage.

to look at the man Marius had become without breaking down. He knew the boy hadn't come to shove reproaches down his throat. It didn't seem like it anyway. I'm sorry. It's okay. No, dear boy, it's not okay. I'm truly sorry from the very bottom of my heart for everything. Marius shook his head and raised a hand for him to stop.

I'm the one who's sorry You're in here because of me Nonsense Please Doc Just let me say what I came here to say Gnard was shaking He doubt he had enough self-control

To hear the boy out He didn't want to hear Marius blaming himself For what he had done to his father He wasn't worthy of the boy's forgiveness Let alone understanding I should have come to see you a long time ago, but I was so ashamed. The former doctor was sobbing with the yearning of an abandoned child. If it weren't you, it would have been me.

I was really out of it. No, son. You were confused, and it was my job to make you well again. But I failed. No, you didn't. Look at me. I'm better than ever. I...

Marius smiled a little to himself. I got into med school last year. It wasn't easy, but I'm in. I'm all about human anatomy and the aging process now. I've been wanting to tell you this for quite a while. The former doctor's bottom lip quivered. That's great, Marius. Congratulations.

Oh, thank you. I've also gotten a dog, named him Lucky. Gnard's face, paled instantly. Marius laughed Kidding Gosh, you're easy Something in the air had shifted It was a strange

tingling sensation Gannard felt the need for oxygen So he inhaled greedily welcoming the tingly air within his being His inside, however, didn't take it as well as usual Remember the mutilated dog you found in my parents' backyard that night this is some funny shit hear me out gnarred could feel the air liquefying somehow he could feel it sliding down his airways resting in his lungs and spreading to the stomach he wanted to breathe but each mouthful of air felt too thick to reach its purpose he also felt very warm all of a sudden he was sweating profusely and not just from his armpits but from his head, face, arms, and crazily, from the legs too.

Dynard felt like he was melting. My parents had just wanted to surprise me with a pet for when I was to be discharged, but, well, the damn thing moved in front of a moving car. Stupid mutt. Crazy coincidence, huh? He laughed again. There was something odd about the boy. something was not quite right with his face and it was making Gannard sick just by looking at it

so it's true lucky never did exist no why did you lie to me think about it you're the mind doctor you tell me why do people lie Gnard could barely articulate but because they have something to hide. Oh, really? That's why. Darned, I was hoping you'd say, because they're bored. Oh, well, we don't have to agree on everything. Marius looked left, then right.

He got closer to the glass, and Gannard had an inexplicable gag reflex. Hey, how'd you like it in there, Doc? under normal circumstances gnarred would have told him oh it's not so bad but something about the boy made him want to weigh his answer very carefully he couldn't decide on one so he left marius his question unanswered you want to get out because between you and me i'm going to get you out of there the former doctor's eyes got wide so he looked around at the guards wondering if it would be a good idea to ask them to escort marius out of the building i mean you yourself are doomed but you'll still be able to walk around sounds good what in the world are you up to Let's just say, I'll work something else. Marius, thank you for coming to see me, but I really think you should go. Don't worry.

I don't plan on making you even more uncomfortable than I already have. Marius got up, still holding the receiver, and hunched down, as if his proximity could make Gnard hear him better. You want to know why I really came to see you, though? Gannard felt like he was boiling, but no one else could see it, not the guards, nor the other inmates. The one person who was enjoying the show of his suffering was his former favorite patient. As I said, I really like you, Doc. Besides, I can't copy what I can't see. She was on her knees, with her right ear glued to the floor.

Ellie? She shushed him. It had been over 30 years since she last welcomed him home with her buttocks up in the air. But back then, the context was completely different. Ellie, what are you doing? She shushed him again, with a hiss as an undertone. Elma placed the paper bag containing their freshly baked bread on the dust-collecting sofa they kept in the hallway. He'd wanted to get rid of the old thing ages ago, but his wife wouldn't let him.

It was a wedding present from her mother. He slowly approached the living room, where his wife was bent and crumbled, looking like she spontaneously wanted to pray, but, instead, had got a cramp. The Parquet creaked mildly under his careful steps. Am I missing something? Get down here! Elma sighed. Neither his age nor his body mass would appreciate what he was about to do.

He knelt down next to his wife and tried lowering his face to hers to see her better. Lower. No, her hair wasn't stuck in between the floorboards. He ran out of ideas. Elma sighed again as his hands eased the side of his head to the cold, hard wood. Ellie's face. pale as a ghost didn't even begin to cover it Don't you hear it?

She hadn't whispered to him in years Last time she whispered to him It was almost a decade prior When their oldest son came to visit in the middle of the night And Ellie thought that someone had broken into their house He liked hearing a whisper It was a nice change from the constant nagging and complaining Hear what

There might have been a bug stuck on under there somewhere, but Elma had a hunch his wife was whispering about something else. There was panic in her frickled hands, panic in her dilated pupils. My name! Can't you hear it? It's calling my name! It burst? I wasn't sure, but now I'm sure. Can't you hear it? Listen closely. Alma stared at his white-haired spouse, dumbfounded. Unless Ellie's name was deaf static, he was quick. I'm quite sure he couldn't hear anything. I don't hear anything.

Shh, listen, listen. Nothing. Did you hear it? Hear what? Eliza. It's echoey. Eliza. Like from the bottom of a well.

Belmer's hands helped his torso up again. I don't hear anything. With close to inhumane efforts. The old man got up and offered a helping hand to his life partner. Eliza. Ellie, I got the bread. We can have breakfast now. There's something calling your wife from under the floor,

and all you could think about is stuffing your fat gut? So much for the whispering. It was nice while it lasted, Alma thought. I'll go set the table. He loved her. He really did. But sometimes he had these. doubts.

Elmer was already in the kitchen when Ellie called him back in the living room to give her a hand with getting up. The following morning, he was welcome home by not one but two backside staring at him from the living room floor. Elmer sighed. The torso attached to the butt dressed in black

rose to reveal her head. Good afternoon, Father Jonathan. Ah, Elmer, good afternoon. Ellie shushed both of them. Father Jonathan looked at her for a second, and then back at Elma, pressing his lips into a line of mild desperation. Elma entered his living room with the same caution as the day before. His wife spoke to him from foot level.

They're gone today. Not even I can hear them. Ellie sat upright and looked the priest dead in the eye. I think they're afraid of you. The priest shrugged. Alma's frame got in between offering each of them a helping hand Ellie hesitated I wish they would say something while you're here father

Elmer godless as he is can't hear them but I'm sure you would The priest and Elmer exchanged a worried glance Ellie got to her feet too and caught a glimpse of that exchange I'm not crazy father Nobody said you are a child Elma found that sentence quite oxymoronic.

The devil works in mysterious ways. However, we must not exclude the possibility of interpretation. It called me by my name. Father John reached a conclusion based on Elmer's facial expressions. I shall bless this room for your peace of mind, child. The house, father, bless the whole house. Have you heard it anywhere else? No, just here, but please bless the whole house.

Elma left the room. Father Jonathan followed him in the hallway, to the couch where he left his cross and holy water, where Ellie's hearing range couldn't reach them. She's old, Elmer. Bear with her. I am, father. Elma looked over the priest's shoulder at his wife, who dropped to her knees and glued her ear to the floor again.

Always have, always will. Catherine called this morning. Elma frowned and let his mother. knife and fork drop on his half-empty plate. And you didn't call me why? You were out buying bread. I doubt she called that early. Ellie gave him an annoyed glance.

She always made that face on the few occasions Elma would raise his voice at her. I was out in the garage. You should have called me. I haven't spoken to her in two weeks. She'll call again. Elmer and Ellie had three children. Eric, Edward, and the apple of Elma's eyes, Catherine.

Catherine was supposed to be named Eleanor, but Eleanor was the name of Elma's most hated teacher back in school. He had to fight Ellie on that one. Fine, then, Ellie had said. You name her if you're so good at all of this all of a sudden. And, as Elma stared at the wrinkled little face of the cooing bundle in his arms, he decided Catherine

this is Daddy's little Kathy yes she is all three children grew up to be fine adults Eric went to law school and became a very renowned lawyer Edward was offered a job at a startup firm which grew quickly

placing him in a high up position despite him never going to university and Catherine went to med school but dropped out after two years to become a nerd Ellie was furious with her. Not Alma, though. Elma knew why his baby girl decided against med school,

even though medicine and helping others had always been her biggest passions. I can't do it, Daddy. Kathy cried to him over the phone. They're so cold. Whenever an operation is a failure, they go back to the patient's family and, Lord, they're so cold. I can't be that cold, Daddy.

I don't want to be that cold. So much responsibility. Somebody's life in your hands. I can't do it. I'm such a lousy coward. No, baby. Elmer assured her. Everybody I know is a bigger coward than you.

You just have a heart of gold. And the world is toughest on people with hearts of gold. Elmer? Ellie barely touched her dinner, but, as always, she waited for him to notice and ask what's wrong, rather than simply request something else to eat. Not today, Elmer thought. Today he had had a chance to speak to his most precious child,

but his wife was too comfortable to go get him to the phone. He felt he had a right to be a little upset with her. Elmer, I'm talking to you. What is it? Ellie played the puppy eye card. I'm sorry if you don't like the Brussels sprouts, but we had to cook them today or they would have gone bad. It's not the food, Elmer.

Then what? I heard it again today. Heard what? Ellie was trembling. The voice in the living room underneath the floorboards. It's back. Her eyes were glistening. They glistened like that when they found out they were expecting their third child,

and Ellie wanted to get rid of it. They glistened like that when Ellie asked her. Elmer to apply for a bank loan to send their oldest son to college. She was reaching out to him. She needed him. An old, drained, distressed woman reaching out to her rock. Father Jonathan blessed the entire house just last week. It's still here, Elmer. I heard it again today. Clear than ever. You want me to go check again? No, you won't hear it. Nobody will. It's here for me. Her lower lip began to vibrate. I'm going to die, Elmer. Elmer immediately got out of his chair and went to hold his wife. Ellie was sobbing against the right strap of his suspenders, mumbling something

about sorrow and not wanting to go. For her sake, Elma's composure hardened to iron. You're not going to die, Ellie. Don't you remember what the doctor said last month? He said you're as healthy as could be and that unless fate plays dirty, you'll live to see your grandchildren reach adulthood. Our oldest grandchild just turned eight, dear. There's nothing for you to worry about. Ellie was holding on to her husband with such force. He would have lost his balance if he were less heavy. No, it's coming for me. It's... Look at me, Elmer. Elmer's gaze met Ellie's blurred orbs. It said I must confess before I go.

Elmer's blood ran cold. Having a voice tell his wife she must confess before she goes. was on a completely different word palette than Eliza was. Who did? The voice, Elmer. It said, I must confess. He knelt down next to her. Her hands in his. Ellie, there is no voice.

Ellie pulled her hands out of Elmer's and turned to her untouched dinner again. Honey, I think you need help. And why the hell do you think I'm telling all of this to you for? Not for me, Alice. from a professional. We can schedule an employment with a professional. Maybe Kathy knows somebody. No.

Ellie grabbed the shoulders of her kneeling husband with crumbling strength. Don't you dare mention any of this to Catherine. If you must ask Eric or Edward, if they have any connections, but don't, under any circumstance, mention any of this to Catherine. Catherine mustn't know. All right, Catherine won't know. Her grip sweetened, and she brought her right palm to her husband's soft, cheek. Do you want me to call Father Jonathan again? No, it's not him I need to confess to.

Elma felt cold at the pits of his arms. Elmer? Yes. Ellie opened her mouth and closed it again. You can trust me, Ellie. You can tell me anything. You know that. Her chair creaked as she backed away from the table and got up. I'm going to bed. I'm tired. Ellie locked herself in the bedroom. making it clear for Elma that he had to spend the night in the living room. Whether Ellie was sleeping or not, Elma knew better than to bother her. He loved her. He really did. Sometimes, however, he simply had these doubts that were eating away at him. Elma woke up the following morning and found that the bedroom was empty.

He was always the one who was first to wake up. She wasn't in the kitchen either. Alma didn't even snap his suspenders over his shoulders in his hurry to go outside and call for Ellie. She was at the back gate. The gate they only used when they were going to the bakers. The walk was shorter that way. Where were you? The paper bag she was holding made it obvious.

I want to make breakfast today. The old man watched as his wife was in no hurry to get back inside the house. Ellie was a night person, and he on the other. hand was a morning person. Breakfast was his duty, whereas dinner was hers. It's been like that for the past four decades of their marriage, like those cute yet deadly painful routines that old couples have. Elma knew breakfast was his job, and seeing Ellie do it instead felt foreign and unpleasant. He followed his wife inside and stopped in the kitchen doorway. The sizzle of oil was in perfect harmony with Ellie's scrambling eggs and the happy birdies outside.

She was making French bread. He could tell, even with her back to him. Bacon and spring onions were on the table, just waiting to be chopped. Elmer entered the kitchen and grabbed the knife from nearest to him. No! Ellie had her arm around the bacon and spring onions in a matter of seconds. I'll do it. He froze.

Ellie looked like she just jumped in front of a bullet, protect her children. She was even rigid with determination and everything. Ellie, are you? All right? Elma put the knife down cautiously. She avoided his gaze. I want to do it. I need something to do. Go read the paper in your lazy boy or something. I'll call you when it's ready. Elma's hand met Ellie's on the knife. Put it down, love. Ellie gaffed softly. He rarely caught her love, but whenever he did, her heart would sigh, I do. Over and over again, she put the knife down. Look at me. She hesitated. Elma was well accustomed to her dramatic outbursts, but this, this was different. What's wrong? Ellie opened her mouth and closed it right back,

just like the night before. Come on, Eliza, talk to me. Her chin was drawn. Her chin was trembling. I can't help you if you don't speak. She always needed somewhere between three and five reassures before she would talk. Sometimes she needed to cry for a good half an hour before she would manage to upright herself enough to speak. Some say you can spend a lifetime alongside a person and never get to know them. But Elma knew his wife. Oh, he knew his wife really, really well. And, despite all her flaws, he really loved her. And he really had some doubts.

I... Alma didn't rush her. He held her hand to his chest and looked at her with all the understanding in the world. I heard it again. He wouldn't have asked if she hadn't paused. Hear what, honey? The voices. calling me. From the living room?

Ellie shook her head as salt water was smudging her sight. Bedroom. Elma felt cold in the pits of his arms again. When? This morning. I woke up at 6 a.m. and it was faint. I got closer and there it was again. The smell of burnt French bread was making Elma nauseous.

Eliza. The floor? Yes. He had to hold her by the elbows, so she would not. so she wouldn't lose balance. Her wimpers were heart-breaking. Elmer, you have to believe me. The bread turned to charcoal.

Breakfast was ruined. I believe you, honey, but I also believe that you need professional help. Ellie shook her head again. It's not help I need. She straightened her frame and swallowed her sobs. I need to confess. Confess to what, honey? She took her arms out of her husband's grip.

the phone rang and Ellie took that as her cue to leave she stormed out of the kitchen and into the hallway with the agility of a 20 year old Elma got to the stove and turned the thing off before it would burn their entire house now to his delight he could still hear his wife talking to their daughter he needed to hear Catherine's voice too but he knew that this time his wife needed her more than he did. When they moved in together the couple established some house rules. Number one, no pets, ever. Number two, one is just as busy as the other, so the house chores have to be shared equally. Number three, two meals a day is more than enough. And number four. No matter how bad things get,

they are not allowed to keep secrets from each other. This last rule was Elma's favorite thing about being married to Ellie. When Ellie was young, she was the embodiment of poise. He knew it wouldn't be easy, but he had made up his mind the very second he laid eyes on her. It took him no less than eight months to convince her to go out with him. And when she finally did, Elma was so nervous, he got sick, and they had to cut their date short by three hours. He was head over heels for her, always happy. He regretted nothing. Even so, sometimes he had these doubts. Ellie had been a sweetheart all week. She made both

breakfast and dinner, was using words such as please and thank you again, and to Elma's mind-numbing surprise. She was cuddling up to him in her sleep. Bedtime was the only time she would enter the bedroom and whenever she did. She would cling to Elma like her life depended on it. Entering the living room was out of the question. Therefore, when it came to the house chores, she delightedly accepted her husband's help. Alma was to take care of the living room and the bedroom.

All other rooms in the house were in her care, including the attic, which she always hated. Two weeks passed, in which Ellie was distracting herself with housework. Other than the fact that she was deliberately avoiding the living room and bedroom, life was turning back to normal. Until, one day, Ellie ran sobbing out of the house directly into her husband's arms, who was reading the newspaper in the garden. He didn't even ask.

He just cursed under his breath and waited for the wife to pull herself together and tell him where the voices came from this time. The attic, Elmer. He felt so sorry for her. The poor thing was shaking from head to toe, and her sobs were excruciating. They're in the attic. How, Elmer, and why?

The attic is over the kitchen. The voices are over my kitchen, Elmer. They've reached the kitchen. Elmer bit his lip. He didn't speak, because he knew he would break down alongside her. All he could do was hold her as tightly as possible and rock their bodies gently until she calmed down.

What are they saying? Ellie's fingernails dug into the front of his shirt. That I must confess. Confess to what, Ellie? What's weighing you down, honey? I'm so confused. Ellie pushed his chest away gently. She looked up at him, tears rolling down her face.

Come on. Alma said. Let's go inside. I'll make tea and we can. No. Ellie wiped her nose with the sleeve of her blouse. I don't want to go back in the house right now. All right.

Stay here. I'll go get the blankets and put the kettle on the stove. No. She inhaled twice and then looked in dead in the eye. Something big was coming. Elma could feel it. You know, Mother never approved of us, of our marriage. Yes, I know.

She always said, I have to be smart. You already know what my father did. He took everything when he left us, and my mother always said, I must trust no man, ever. Alma's forehead felt hot. It's her fault. She said, I need to save money. She said,

saving money behind the man's back is always a good idea, regardless of how things turn out. She made me think that you would one day just get up and leave me in the kids behind, or that, if you don't end up being a good husband, I must take the kids and leave. And? Did you reach a verdict yet? Do I make a good husband, or are you still putting money aside, just in case?

Ellie lowered her head in shame. How much? She was crumbling under his stare. Eliza, how much? Last time I counted, somewhere around 300,000. When was the last time you counted? Two years ago, when you and Catherine, went to...

Two years ago, we've been married for 39 years. She started sobbing again. Alma's tone was calm, but deep down, he was boiling with rage. Throughout our married life, we've had two loans from the bank, Eliza. The first one, we bought the house, and the second when our oldest went to college. I paid off both of them, all by myself. Now you're telling me that as I was working my ass off to find to our family, you were putting a fortune together just in case you decided you don't like me?

It's not like that. Then what's it like? Tell me. Your salary was higher than mine. Elmer's mind, heart, and body went numb. Not by a lot, Ellie. We both know that. Ellie regretted that last sentence of hers, and she would regret it for the rest of her days.

I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Elmer. Forgive me. It's all on your mother's couch, isn't it? Yes, it's all there. Take it, Elmer. You can have it all. Just please forgive me. There was nothing pretty about watching the love of his life cry. Ellie had gone through enough the past few weeks, and having her husband angry with her wouldn't sue things in the least. Elma was already looking for excuses in his mind, to convince himself that Ellie was indeed an angel, but with a demonic mother.

Tell me something, Eliza. Would you have ever told me about the money if the voices didn't tell me? Tell you two? She hesitated. Yes. I would have. Eventually. Elmer inhaled deeply and exhaled steam. Apparently, he didn't know his wife as well as he thought he did,

but he knew enough to tell when she was lying. Never in a million years would he have thought that the dusty old couch they kept in the hallway was an undercover deposit box, but he wanted to believe her so, He wanted to believe that she was sorry. He wanted to believe that she would have eventually told him why she didn't want to throw the old couch away. But his heart was just as smart as the rest of him.

If it weren't for the voices, Ellie would never have told him about the money. Where did you put the Johnny Walker? In the coffee cupboard. Behind the paper bag on the left. Good. I need a drink. Of course, honey. I'll get the...

Alone. Ellie looked like a kicked puppy. I need to be alone. I need to think. Stay here if you can't go back into the house yet. And, just like that, for the very first time in almost half a century, Elmer turned his back on his wife. He had his doubts all right, but this blow was quite unexpected.

The phone rang. Elma picked up. Donovan residents. A choir of angels made itself heard from the other end of the line. Hi, Dad. It's me. It was the very first good thing that had happened to him those last few weeks. Catherine, my baby Curl. It's so good to hear your voice. How are you? I'm good. I'm really good. I'm happy I finally got you on the phone for once. We haven't talked in ages.

You're not the only one who's happy, kiddo. Nostalgia's no joke once your favorite kid moves out of the house. Dad, you're being super unfair to Ed and Eric right now. Oh, come on. As if they didn't know who my favorite is. Lucky for me, they share my adoration for you, so they never blamed me. Catherine laughed and Alma's heart grew twice its size. Yeah, they're pretty awesome. I just got off the phone with Eric.

He won a super difficult case today. He did? That's fantastic. I'm not surprised, though. Your mother and I always struggled to scold him whenever he got into trouble. He always knew how to twist an argument in his favor, even in his kindergarten years. The other end of the line went silent for a couple of seconds. Kathy Cat? You still there, honey?

Dad, is someone next to you? Alma's throat went dry. No, not right now. Why? I think I can hear something. A man's voice. It's faint, but... Deep and gutteral. The now familiar coldness was gathering in the pits of his arms again.

What does it say, honey? It says... Ellie came out of the kitchen. Something about confession? Honey, I have to go. I'll call you back tomorrow, all right? Daddy, is everything okay? Elmer. Ellie's voice was coming from a broken cavern inside her chest.

She was walking slowly towards... him, like an infant trying to walk again after falling for the first time. Her eyes were purple from all the crying she'd done. Yes, honey, don't worry. We'll talk tomorrow. Catherine protested, but Elmer placed the receiver down before she managed to finish her sentence. Elmer? Ellie was shaking as if thousands of vaults were going through her. I can't.

Drul was connecting her inferior lip to the upper one, like a spider web. I can't take it anymore, Elmer. They've gotten so loud. Elmer, they're everywhere. They've been screaming, Elmer. They're so, so loud. Elma watched her with sad eyes. Eliza, I'm sorry, but I really can't hear anything.

In her despair, Ellie let out a scream. Cupped her hands over her ears and collapsed on the floor. Elma rushed to her side and tried embracing her, but she pushed him away. Make it stop. Please make him stop. Why? What are you saying? That I must confess. Elmer was confused.

He tried pulling his wife into his arms again, but she grabbed him by the hands, interrupting the hug midway. You already confessed, honey. Ellie pressed her lips together and shook her head forcefully. And it's all right. I understand and I forgive you. I forgive you, Ellie.

I love you, but this has to stop. We really, really need to get you professional help. help. I cheated on you. Elma froze. Ellie put her head in her hands as her violent sobs echoed in the hallway. And there it was. Elma's doubts finally confirmed. When? Ellie was rocking back and forth, crying with the passion of an entire chorus in a Greek tragedy. Elmer's patience was over and done.

He grabbed his wife by the elbow and forced her to look at him. When, Eliza? He didn't ask with whom. He didn't care who she'd cheated with, knowing how Cody's wife was regarding matters of the heart. She would have confessed her infidelity years ago. However, the messy circus she was providing made it clear. There was something bigger than cheating.

to the story. Elma felt the life draining out of him as the seconds passed by. Please, Eliza, please, please tell me that Catherine is my daughter. For the love of God, woman,

please tell me that Catherine is my child. Ellie didn't answer. She just cried harder and tried taking Elma back on his hub offer. That was enough of an answer. Alma got to his feet before she even had a chance to touch him. I confess. I confess. I confess. I confess. Please, Elmer, please make them stop.

Elma had to choose one of two options. One, call an ambulance for his deranged wife and tell her that he forgives her so that she gets hospitalized with a little peace of mind. Or two, grab his coat and go to the bar down the street. where the guests were few and the barkeeper wasn't talkative. Choosing was easy. He could still hear Ellie screaming, even as he closed the front gate behind him.

I confess, I confess, you rotten beings from hell, what else do you want from me? Shut up, shut up, shut up! Alma got back home around 2 a.m. He wasn't exactly drunk, but he wasn't sober either. The house was quiet just like he expected it to be. He looked in the kitchen for his wife, even though he was certain she wouldn't be there. He didn't bother checking the bedroom or the living room.

Alma went straight for the attic. He hesitated in the doorway. Even though he knew she was there, he still needed confirmation before he would proceed any further. Elma cracked the door open. Just enough to let a thread of light in. Ellie's left house slipper was on the floor. Her right one was still attached to her, dangling slightly from the ceiling.

Elma had seen enough, so he shut the door. He had to wait for the alcohol to wear off before he would enter the attic again. Otherwise, Ellie wouldn't be the only mess that had to be cleaned up he had to call so many people the ambulance the police the funeral home Eric Edward and Catherine there were so many preparations that needed to be done so many flowers that needed to be bought so much black cloth that needed to be ironed but First things first.

Alma got his toolbox and grabbed a screwdriver. He had to remove all the speakers he'd installed under the house's wooden floorboard. Part one. Something's there. Class had started no more than three minutes ago, and Danny's hand was already up and dangling. Mr. Swatson was getting annoyed. Danny used to be such a nice kid. never bothering the class, always doing his homework properly, hell, even explaining the day's lesson to the one or two dunces who never understood anything.

He would always praise the boy for his good behaviour and hunger for knowledge. However, Mr. Swatson has been holding back on the praises lately, and that is because Danny's raised hand during class stopped being for participation purposes. Mr. Swatson, may I please go to the toilet? What was Mr. Swatson supposed to say? Or Miss Peeble or Miss McCoy? The entire teacher lounge was talking about Danny with sunken eyebrows and harsh undertones.

"'Niscreetful,' they called the boy. It was clear to everybody that Danny was purposefully waiting for class to start to excuse himself to go to the bathroom. And they were right. He was doing it on purpose. But what the teachers didn't know is that the boy hated going to the toilet during class. He had no choice, however, because the last time he did go to the bathroom during break time, this happened.

Flush him again, Wayne. Danny tried to pull his head out of the toilet, but he hadn't been blessed with puberty yet, and was being held down by two upper-classmen who were. I thought I told you I need it by Thursday, Collins. Danny was trying to explain himself between flushes, but Marvin wouldn't have it. Wayne, keep flushing him until I tell you to stop. Water was so cold. Danny's nose was bleeding.

Marve, I think his nose is bleeding. Marvin pulled Wayne upright and grabbed Danny himself. You think your pussy ass nose his impressive, Collins. Where the fuck is my book report? You're supposed to have it done by third period. Sorry. Danny was breathing greedily. I'm so sorry.

I couldn't finish. the book and I had to go to grandpas from my parents last week. Marvin yanked down his head back in the toilet with so much force. The boy hit his head against the hard margin. The cold water and bleeding nose with nothing compared to the fresh ache of his forehead. I don't give a flying fuck you shit eater. I told you to do it. If I get my hands on you after school, I'm going to skin you alive. Marvin flushed Danny's head one last time before standing up and ordering his boys to follow him. Everybody was scared of Marvin. Wherever he would go, he would always have his oversized bright orange jacket with a blue zipper on and an entourage of three faithful followers.

His jacket was his trademark. People didn't even have to look in his direction to see him approaching from the corner of their eyes. That's what Marvin loved about that jacket. Not because it was expensive and not because it made his shoulders look wider than they actually were. It's because, wherever he went. It was announcing his presence from afar. Mike and Wayne were Marvin's muscles, while pretty boy Jimmy was his eyes and ears. They weren't always together, but when they were, it was bad news. Danny had a couple of friends, but they were too afraid to stand up for him, or even be seen talking to him. It would be in pure suicide, now that Danny was King Marvin's new targets. Feeling like he'd received enough beating for one day,

Danny emptied his locker and went home. No teacher saw him leave, but he still had a good rep amongst the school staff, so people just assumed he'd felt sick or something. Oh, he felt sick all right. His late fall and the cold air against his facial wounds was killing him. His forehead had a swollen, horizontal bruise, and even though he wiped his nose with the sleeve of his hoodie,

he only managed to wipe off the dry blood above his lip. his chin, neck and shirt, could still give the nosebleed away. Danny didn't want to cry, but a shame he felt wouldn't let him off the hook that easily. Sunking into thoughts, he didn't notice that he'd already reached the wooden bridge. As upset as he was, the creepy house on Boone Street wasn't creeping him out today. Usually he'd speed up the pace as soon as he'd reached the lake. Well, every girl and boy was afraid of the creepy house on Boone. Boona Street and the still, dark lake across from it. It was an immense property. The house had

three stories and looked old and uncamped, not to mention the roses that would grow wild and spiky all around it in untamable patterns. It was a shortcut only meant for joggers or students, because even though the bridge itself and the pathway following the bridge were wide enough for cars to pass through, the wild roses were reaching their limbs outside the fence of the creepy house, far enough to cover over half of the pathway. Ouch! Danny acknowledged the spike rose that scratched his cheek. He was halfway through the pathway,

when he stopped and turned with angry eyes. The rose that scratched him was abnormally long, but beautiful and contrary to Marvin. It was a bully he could hurt back. Danny grabbed the pretty flower in his hand, and just as he wanted to twist and rip, the tears started pouring with such fur. even Marvin and his follows would have felt a little sorry.

Danny let the rose go. Just one pedal fell off at dance. Out of reflex, he bent over to pick it up and see if he could attach it to the rest of the rose-blatt. The boy knew it was pointless, but in his childish mind he could at least try. That's when it struck him like lightning. Someone's watching me.

He looked up at the house and his blood froze in his veins. She was young, as young as him or maybe a little younger. And, as irony would have it, she had long black hair and was wearing a white, hooded dress or robe. Danny couldn't tell and didn't stick around to unravel the details. She was the embodiment of every ghost-themed horror movie. Danny ran like a bat out of hell, and by the time he got home, Marvin's bullying from before was just a little less bad than

seeing a ghost. Part two. And it's moving. Mom and Dad asked questions, but Danny, well, he fell. He swore. No, of course school was going great and of course he was fine and getting along with everybody. No, he didn't know why Mrs. Swatson would call them to ask why Danny was acting so strangely late. Dad, is there another shortcut to school except the one by the lake? No, but you can take Fox, and then turn left on maples. That was the long way to school. Danny would have preferred the long way to school a hundred times over the shortcut, if it meant avoiding the creepy house with its mean plants,

but taking maples was just as bad, or probably worse. Marvin lived on that street. Yeah, I know. Never mind. I lived in this town my whole life, and only took that shortcut once. I still remember it. I was in third grade and was late for math. Crept the hell out of me.

We used to call that house Manson Manor back in the day. His dad shuddered and laughed in an attempt at hiding it. I admire you, Danny. You're way braver than your old man was. But Danny sunk his head in shame. If his dad only knew the reason why he was taking the shortcuts, he would laugh in his damaged face. You can see those damn roses from Josh and Christine's baby room.

Their house is three streets away from ruiners for Pete's sake. Danny's mom interfered. Does anyone still live there? Beats me, last I heard the old lady that owned the place died and left it to a daughter and granddaughter. This was fifteen years ago, mind you. Just be careful around there. Okay, honey. Shawma.

But it was not an old, weird-looking house that Danny was supposed to be careful around. He began seeing Marvin's face during class in the window of his class. door. The bully was looking for him. Lucky for Danny, Tom Whisk, the boy seeing in front of him, was very tall, so Danny could hide behind him every time Marvin's angry eyes were seeking their new favourite victim. He felt like a bird in a cage, trying to hide from the hungry cat. The problem is, this cat was a snake. Kids like Marvin were not afraid of teachers or parents. One thing he was afraid of, was being made a fool of in front of the followers he caught friends. And that is exactly what Danny did. He dared come to school even though he didn't have Marvin's book report with him.

Unless he'll manage to convince his parents to be transferred to another school, his ass was bacon by the end of the year. Danny would always wait 15 minutes after school was over to go home. And if that wasn't enough of a precautionary measure, he'd also take the scary shortcut to avoid Marvin's streets. After the day with a toilet incident, he made it a rule to never look up at the creepy house again. The last thing he needed was to freak himself out bad enough to start taking the long way home, passing by Marvin's house. He'd be willingly throwing himself into the lion's open mouth, or the snakes as it had already been established. Ghosts were scary, but Danny doubted their punches were as painful as Marvin's work.

Even so, it was two weeks after seeing the girl in the window, when he stopped dead in his tracks by the bridge, and reconsidered the scary versus painful scale in his mind. There was something moving at the other end of the bridge, in the left corner. A small crouch figure with black hair was trying to pull something out of the water. Danny froze. He thought about turning back and taking the long, way around, but he was simply too close to home to chicken out. Regardless, he couldn't move.

The figure's head turned to look in his direction, and Danny flinched as he recognized the little girl in the white dress. He'd seen that one time in the creepy house's window. She fixated her eyes on him, and Danny knew that whatever was about to happen, turning back was not an option. He carefully advanced on the bridge. making it his day's purpose not to look the little girl in the face. The little girl took no mind of him and turned her head back to whatever she was doing in the water. The wood was creaking under Danny's steps and, given the circumstances,

he couldn't decide if he should walk slower or faster. His determination faltered, and Danny threw the little girl the briefest glance. Reflexes worked that way. She was looking straight at him. still crouched above the water. The corners of her lips lifted upwards. Hello, Danny sprinted. As soon as he got home, he locked all the doors leading up to his room.

That night, he dreamt of demons wanting to eat his soul. And even though the demons were all black-haired little girls, they wore oversized orange jackets with blues in part three. It's a lie. next day Danny took a brave and very mature decision regarding his way home from school he decided to take the long way around passing by Marvin's house how bad could he be he didn't see much of Marvin that day at school anyway and so after the daily wait of 15 minutes after school was over Danny marched forward

he walked and walked and walked and walked right by the crossing which led to the bridge turning daringly on maples, Marvin Street. Danny smirked. Wouldn't you know it? No danger in sight. That was awesome, Benny. Keep it up. A boy in an oversized orange jacket barged out of a liquor store ten feet in front of Danny.

He pulled along another boy, a blonde kid in the punk rock excuse of an outfit, and kept walking forward with his arm around the other's neck. Marvin and Jimmy. They didn't see him, but Danny wasn't risking anything. He turned around, sweating and praying that the boys don't notice him, and they didn't. To his sweet relief, their voices, loud and obnoxious, could be heard further and further as he reached the crossing a second time. Knowing he had no other choice, Danny advanced towards the bridge, acknowledging the tiny figure bent over the water. She turned her head towards him

And then back to the water He didn't speed up his pace this time Now that he took a better look at her There was no way this little girl was a ghost There was no white robe in sight Just a red and yellow striped shirt Under a black velvet overall She was indeed pale

But there was a very human bruise on her left knee And her hair was not black But dark round Unlike the other day she had no intention of saying hi. Instead, she kept poking with a stick around the water, raising it to her face for inspection ever so often. Sensing a fellow human, Danny paid better attention to what she was doing.

The little girl was fishing for tadpoles with a butterfly net, and as soon as he saw her grabbing one of them, with its tail squirming between her thumb and index finger, Danny came to a halt and found his angry voice. Hey, stop that, you bully. The girl looked at him wide up. her eyes like two chocolate marbles. Why?

Because you're hurting them. She inhaled sharply and threw the tadpole back into the water. Shocked of what she just found out. My God, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't know. She sunk the purposeful end of her butterfly net back into the water and let the other tadpole swim away.

I'm so sorry. I didn't know. Then he found her reaction. kind of funny, but he was also sorry for accusing her like that. She did seem genuinely distressed. That's okay. Only a few of them survived to become frogs anyway. The girl looked at him with questioning eyes. They become frogs? Yeah. Oh. Danny remembered to keep on walking. You almost heard a rose too, you know. He looked at her, not sure. I'm not sure. he knew what she meant.

I saw she hurt you, so I called her back in the garden. Violence doesn't work with him. You need to ask nicely. Danny was at a loss for words. Okay. A sudden smile shone all over her face. You learned something from me today,

and I learned something from you. Mom said friendship is bringing out the best in another person and letting that person bring out the best in you. Can we be friends? Danny chuckled and the little girl looked very hurts. Sure, I mean, we can try, but please don't cry. This upset her even more. I'm not.

She turned her head back to Danny and crouched next to her butterfly net once more. Forget it. You don't want to be friends. Nobody wants to be friends with the girl who lives in the creepy house on Bonner Street. She wasn't exactly wrong, but Danny felt like an asshole. he felt like an asshole and an asshole was something he was definitely not. Hey, I'm sorry. I'm sorry I ran away from you yesterday. She looked at him.

All signs of incoming sadness gone. That's okay. I get that a lot. He pretty much expected that answer, but what he didn't expect was a sweet smile that followed it. The question he asked next came as involuntarily as a hiccup. "'Hey, what's your name?' "'I can't tell you that. "'Kits like you laugh when they hear my name.

"'It's a weird one. "'Just call me whatever you like.' "'Danny frowned. "'Can I just call you by your name?' "'She looked his way and blinked once before answering. "'It's Clotho.' "'That is a weird name. "'I told you.'

"'I'm Dan.' Clotho smiled again. Can I ask you for a favor, Danny? What favor? Well, what not weird girl name would be closest to my name? Danny was dumbfounded. What? What not weird girl name will be closest to my name?

Well, that would be, what's your name again? She pouted. Clotho. Right, um... Claire, I guess. No, Chloe. Chloe would be a not weird alternative. What does that mean? Alternative. What you're trying to do right now? You're trying to replace something with something else. The girl looked like a light bulb just ignited above her hands.

Like replacing something bad with something good? Danny was stuck and he didn't like being stuck, especially when it came to mind games. He was not the strongest in the schoolyard, but he was definitely among the smartest. Yeah, exactly. Wow, I'm learning so much from you. We're going to be great friends, Danny. Right, okay, um, Chloe. Danny forgot her name again, but he'd be damned if he'd admitted anew.

Is it okay if I call you Chloe? Sure, Danny. Okay, well, I need to get going now. Why? You just got here? Yeah, but I'm only passing through. I'm not like visiting or anything. Oh, right. Your mom's waiting for you. That wasn't precisely the case, seeing how his mom was always working late and he was home alone for three hours after school until his dad got home.

But that was not something his new friend needed to know. Well, okay then. You'll come by tomorrow again, won't you? Yeah, I'm taking this. this path every day. I know. I saw you. Danny was creeped out, but her smile was so innocent and sweet. He decided it was no way she meant that in a stalker type of way. Well then, see you tomorrow, Chloe. Yeah, see you tomorrow, Danny. Part four, it's a she. Now that the weird girl was harmless. Danny was fine with taking the shortcuts. He still had to way at the 15 minutes after school for Marvin and his bodyguards to be out of sight, but his way

home was not a problem anymore. He found it weird that Marvin started ordering Mike and Wayne to run ahead, just for him and Jimmy to follow along a couple of minutes after, but that still didn't interfere with the 15-minute rule. Danny would always be looking out the classroom window with his back glued to the wall so that his bullies couldn't see him in case they looked up. He was fifty feet away from the bridge when he saw Chloe wave enthusiastically in his direction. Hey, Danny! She was just so happy to see him. She shouted her greetings even though Danny was the size of a tabhole in her field of vision.

You're early today. I wanted to meet you at your school, to walk you here. Danny was stunned at her yelling didn't summon more faces in the windows of the creepy house. He, however, was mannered enough to reply to, only when she was close enough to hear a level tone. Okay. Why? So we have a little more time to chat. There are a couple of things I'd like to ask you. We need to know some things about each other now that we're friends. Right. Why are you so early today? Early. He was late. 15 minutes late, in fact. I'm actually late. Yesterday was just an exception. I didn't want Marvin to see me taking the long way home. Chloe's head bent slightly to the side. What does exception mean? Danny checked himself.

Why did he just tell her about Marvin? She didn't have to know. It means something out of the ordinary, something that's not like the others, even though it should be. She smiled. Like you? What? No, not at all. I'm very ordinary. Trust me. Chloe smiled at him, like he just said the most naive thing in the world. I've tried making friends so many times, but they all ran away from it. The dark-haired girl leaned towards him a little without stepping forward. You are an exception to me, Danny.

Danny blushed. He didn't know if he should thank her or ask her to never speak to him again, but she made the decision for him. What's your favourite colour? Danny chuckled. You did not just ask me that. She got a worried look on her face. I did. What are you saying? It's the oldest question in the

book. Chloe's face was a question mark in itself. What book? Geez, what planet did you come from? Chloe seemed genuinely puzzled and Danny was getting frustrated with her. He resumed walking and passed Chloe by with the sheer intention of getting home. He was off the bridge and on the pathway, passing by the roses that cause so much gossip amongst the housewives in town. Earth! I'm from Earth! Danny decided to ignore her. I don't understand this game we're playing. You have to tell me the rules first. Danny let out an exasperated sigh and yelled from the center of the pathway in the girl's direction. All of them. All of what? All colors. I like every color there is.

Chloe was astounded. Really? I thought you'd say blue or something. Nah, I've always liked them all the same. I can never pick a favourite. Chloe was beanie. See? Told you.

You're an exception. Danny couldn't help himself. His sudden good mood was undeniable. He thought the girl was dumb and weird, sure, but she definitely knew how to boost to lose his ego. Thanks. You're an exception too. Chloe's big eyes got even bigger. I am? You sure are.

See you tomorrow, okay. She looked disappointed, but she still took his remark as a compliment. Okay, have a nice day tomorrow. Part five. She's pretty stupid. He had no idea how it got there, and he had no idea what he did to deserve it. He only let his schoolbag out of sight for ten seconds at a time. Whenever the ball landed in his hands, he needed to scan the court to see whom to pass it to.

The gym teacher was fine with the kids leaving their schoolbags on the benches during sports. That, of course, was good for Danny, because the lock to his locker was busted, meaning he'd have to drag his rucksack with him everywhere. Even though they were older, Wayne and Mike were in Danny's gym class because both of them were slightly overweight, and their parents told the gym teacher,

they would not be able to participate in sports due to their bad knees. Last time the teacher argued against such affirmations. He got himself a lawsuit, which is why he agreed for Mike and Wayne to just sit, watch and laugh at other kids from the side during sports. Wayne and Mark were chatting on the bench, throwing an eye to the basketball game ever so often. Danny would never have thought it was him they were there for.

He simply did his best at being mediocre. grabbed his rucksack on his way out of the gym and, just like everybody else who'd been in constant motion for the past 50 minutes, went for the water bottle first thing when hitting the locker room. Then he probably would have noticed what was happening if he'd seen Mike getting his iPhone out to film him. It's like finally finding a toilet after holding it in for several minutes, like doing something illegal and still be found innocent after weeks of living in fear. It can also be compared to relief, be it sexual or otherwise, that first thing. The first gulp of water after an exhausting workout could bring anyone to close their eyes and just dive into the blissful moment.

In other words, that is exactly what Danny did, just as he brought the bottle to his mouth. He closed his eyes and let it pour its contents into his thirsty cavity. He didn't see it. He just vaguely heard mild gasps around him, but he would never have thought they had anything to do with him, until. until he felt it moving on his tongue. Danny opened his eyes. He just saw the legs of something black and fairy advancing into his mouth, maximized through the bottle of water.

He threw the bottle against the wall in front of him and fell to his knees with both hands around his neck. Some boys were laughing, others were yelling. Danny placed an elbow on the floor and forced himself to cough up the contents he just swallowed. The vermin wasn't swallowed yet, but it was definitely struggling towards his insides. Danny was so desperate to get that disgusting, fuzzy movement out of him that he yanked his right hand into his mouth and grabbed the being by a leg with a help of two fingers. The spider was thrown on the floor, for everyone to see and be disgusted by.

It was huge and scared too. But it was. before it could find shelter under a bench, a merciless sneaker forced it to meet its maker. Danny was still coughing. Mike and Wayne were still filming. Danny's ears went deaf with rage. He was so angry. He imagined a massacre happening right then and there. Everybody who was making a big circle around him deserved to die a painful, bloody death. He imagined the walls painted red in the blood of those laughing at him. And yet, the person who, he thought, deserved the most torture, wasn't even there. Marvin.

Who's that? Danny was startled. Chloe's big, dark eyes were studying him expectantly. He didn't even notice her there, standing at the end of the bridge at a time of day he would normally never leave school. His mind had gone completely blank after sports. Danny never skipped class, ever. he was turning into a badly behaved boy and he knew it

his parents were going to get another call from mr swatson that evening and he dreaded almost as much as he dreaded encountering marvin you're upset of course he was upset Danny wanted to call her stupid just to feel the comfort of knowing that there were people out there who were weaker than him but Danny wasn't a bullion no matter how stupid Chloe was

she was willing to be a friend right when he needed one most. Danny felt the incoming waterworks and, to his own surprise, he walked angrily to the bridge's margin and sat down on the wood, his feet dangling above the water's mirror. Chloe joined him. For someone as stupid as he thought her to be, she sure had a feel for upset people. She just sat there saying nothing, waiting for a friend to speak first, and he spoke all right. I hate them. Who? The bullies.

I hate them all. Every bully that ever was and ever will be. They suck, and they deserve to die. Danny was so angry. His eyes watered. As he tried wiping the annoying salty water out of the way, a gentle hand stroked his back. Let it out, friend.

And just as Danny wanted to bark at her, that he's not her friend and that he's fine, he let go. He cried and cried and cried and cried and told her everything there was to tell about the day he'd had. She did nothing of the things he thought she'd do

and said nothing of the things he thought she'd say. She didn't interfere by saying that karma was going to get back to the horrible people he had to deal with. She didn't reassuring that, no, he wasn't worthless or a chicken and that, no, he was wrong. Things were going to get better, and that people always change

for the better as a result of growing up. She did nothing of what a friend was supposed to do to make a befriended feel better. All she did was bow her head towards the water, listening to Danny cry and rant about his bullies.

After he let all the poison out, Danny was under the mild impression that Chloe wasn't listening to him at all. That made him want to get up and run to his house, where he was most sheltered and could cry to the dear friend he had himself. But just as he made the slightest move towards standing up, Chloe grabbed his arm

with the force of ten men and turned her dark-haired head to meet his eyes. Danny froze. It was a lovely spring day, but he couldn't remember ever feeling this cold. Compared to Chloe's frozen stare, being flushed down the toilet at school seemed like nothing. Do you want me to interfere. She sounded old and angered. Danny was paroled. For someone who didn't know what alternative or exception meant, interfere was a pretty big word. Interfear how? Should I erase everything he ever did to you? That's when Danny came back to his senses. I think I should go home. Chloe didn't even flinch. Mom's waiting for me.

That part she heard. Oh, right. And let him go. Danny got up and swiped his right hand over the backside of his jeans a couple of times. He expressed a half-hearted goodbye to Chloe, and just as he turned around and took a couple of steps. Danny? What?

I don't care what others think of you. I'll always be on your side, no matter what happened. Time stopped for Danny right then and then. He stared Chloe right in the face, considering her as stupid as ever. Even so, he decided he liked her, be it as platonic as humanly possible. Thanks, Chloe. She smiled, and pure happiness was radiating off of her. And sure, what a friend's full.

Part Six, but she's a friend. Danny's nose met with his own locker door with a hard douce. What was that, Collins? Danny was shaking in fear for his very life as he grabbed his bleeding nose. He was on his knees, looking up at Marvin and his three bodyguards. What do you mean? You never read crime and punishment by that Russian bastard. I need that book report in two hours. You never told me about... Slam. Danny was on the floor, covering his face with his hands, afraid of the next impact. Oh, that's why you don't have my book report ready, because I never told you about it. King Marvin kicked Danny in the leg.

I don't have to tell you shit, guys. Make it by tomorrow, it better not be copied off the web. It was either Wayne or Mike who kicked Danny in the leg next. This deduction was made by the stronger level of pain he felt. Danny walked with a limp home and Chloe noticed What happened I don't want to talk about it Even so

He got comfortable on the bridge With his feet dangling over the water again Looks like you do though Danny sighed I need to read crime and punishment by tomorrow Oh Chloe sat down next to him Grandma has that one

Her library's huge. I can lend it to you, but you can't finish it by tomorrow. It's this big. Chloe showed a thickness of three inches with the help of her thumb and index finger. All Danny understood was that he was going to die in less than 24 hours. Can you just pretend to be sick and stay home? That actually sounded like a very good idea. Danny couldn't believe he'd ever thought the girl was stupid. I can try. Funny this option didn't even hit me.

well please stay home tomorrow i'm not in the mood to hear your name while grandma's working her spin chloe cast her hand over her mouth what i mean just stay home okay and so he did part seven a friend full of surprises next morning danny got up an hour earlier than he should have and turned the heating system in his room on blast Right before his mother was supposed to wake up, he let the thermometer rest on the bottom of the bathroom sink, as he washed his hands and face with water so hot he thought his skin would peel off. He couldn't help but chuckle. Whether he'd stay home or go to school to meet Marvin, some mean God had something against

him, keeping his skin attached to the rest of him. Mother's alarm pot rang loudly for the other side of the wall by his bed, letting Danny know it was time to hide the evidence. He got a mouth full of hot water, placed a thermometer between his lips, turned the radiator off and snuck into bed without wiping the water beads of his forehead. His mother didn't notice the heat in Danny's room. He was a good kid and he rarely got sick, so she never even suspected that the sweat on his brow, the steaming face and the outrageous numbers shown by the Quicksilver was just a bunch of bull. She or dad wanted to stay home, but Danny swore he would be all right. Going to school was out of the question, but Danny was going to be just fine.

Being alone at home can be exciting for a 13, going on 14 year old. For the first three hours, that is. TV was no fun, so rebellious as he felt. Danny got dressed and went for a walk right where he knew he'd find her. Hey! Chloe turned her head to see her friend approaching. She smiled and started dangling a little. She smiled and started dangling her feet above the water, reminding Danny of a dog who's happy their master's home. You're late. What do you mean I'm late? It's not even 12 a.m. yet. You're late for someone who fake being sick to stay home. Um, excuse you, I fake being sick to stay alive. Chloe chuckled and patted the wooden boards to her rights. Danny took her invitation and sat down next to her. How can I see you every day now? I've been coming here for years and I've never seen

you before. She hesitated. Well, now that I have a friend, I have more reasons to come play outside. You don't like playing alone? Oh no, I do, but I've always wanted a friend. Danny shot her an incredulous stare. Wait a minute. You mean to tell me you've been coming outside more for me? Chloe blushed furiously. No, of course not. I've never had much reason to come outside before. The little girl turned around to look at her old, creepy-looking house. Mum and Grandma say, I'm very important.

Danny had to bite his tongue to suppress a sarcastic chuckle. I know that sounds wrong, but they say it's important for me to stay safe. They say, well, the world's a very unsafe place. Her face had something very earnest about it, something so solemn it divulged both pride and pain. Danny had no idea how to react to it. They told me if anything was to ever happen to one of us three. Chloe turned her gaze from her house to her only friend, and Danny was close to screaming. Chloe's eyes turned from dark brown to sparkling white?

that the world would end. No, her eyes were as brown as they always were. The sun was only playing tricks. Chloe sounded sad and Danny didn't like it. He grabbed her hand, pulling her out of her days, and spoke as convincingly as a 13-year-old victim of school bullying could. You're just a kid. Chloe blinked twice in surprise.

Sure, if something will... Sure, if something will ever happen to me, I'm sure my parents' world would end, but that's no reason not to come outside at all. Yeah, the world is messed up, but it's also beautiful. You just have to find the courage to learn its ways. You can't just live cooped up in an old home. I want to see it? No impact at all.

He had had one chance at delivering a life-changing speech, and he blew it. Chloe was back to her cheerful, childish, dumb, brown-eyed self again. Danny sighed. See what? My house? Yeah, I don't think that'd be such a good idea. Oh, come on, you worry, what? Mom and Grandma are in the backyard, picking cotton.

I can show you around for a bit until they come back. Danny wanted to excuse himself and go home, where he was expected to be lying in bed and resting. His head was already on its way to his house, but his heart, alongside his physical self, was following Chloe inside the creepy house on Boona Street. Few feelings are more powerful than fear. Curiosity is one of them. Welcome to my humble boat, Chloe chained.

I heard that one in a movie. Come on. The girl ran towards the other end of the hallway. Danny wanted to take his shoes off first, but Chloe tugged impatiently. him. Hurry. We need to hurry. Danny followed her to something that looked like it had once been an enormous ballroom. Even though massive blackout curtains were covering every inch of window possible, the room was very well lit. Four chandeliers were hanging low above the ballroom. They were all powered by candles, not electricity. To the right of the room were two doors, and to the left,

a couch and an enormous flat-screen TV. Far ahead were two staircases leading to the first floor and beyond. The massive double door that stood tall and proud between the staircases was open just a creek, further tickling Danny's curiosity. The floor was coated in a very expensive-looking gold and crimson-colored rug, and Danny couldn't tell if the walls were painted or covered in wallpaper. Despite its scary shell and intimidating size, Chloe's home was very clean and very sophisticated looking.

However, it wore neither a welcoming hue nor a homie vibe. It was certainly big enough for a kid or five to play indoors, but definitely not suited for a child as cheerful as Chloe. The creepy house on Boone Street was big, strong, and ready to crush uninvited guests. That's the library, Chloe said, pointing to the open double door. Her next words guided her. her finger to the two identical doors on the right.

That's the kitchen, that's the pantry. The girl chuckled as she started walking towards one of the staircases. Danny followed. The kitchen and the pantry are almost identical. Mom and Granny think some things from the pantry belong in the kitchen and that every pantry needs a table and chairs. Pictured it yet. Danny let out a short laugh.

I'd love to show them to you, but I don't think we have enough time. I'm not allowed to be. bring friends over. Not allowed to bring friends over, nor is she actually allowed to leave the house. No wonder she's so clingy, Danny thought. Say, Chloe, do you have any brothers or sisters? No. The two of them reached the first floor of the house. Mom had to give birth to one daughter. Her mom, my granny, had to do the same, and her mom and her mom before that, and the mom before that, and so on. Danny was confused. And what if, well, one of you was born a boy?

Not possible. Chloe turned to look at him. Oh, I'm not allowed to tell you these things. Danny was genuinely intrigued. Neither are you allowed to have me over, but you're still doing it, aren't you? Or Chloe looked puzzled. I won't tell anyone, Chloe. Danny was about to deliver the post.

punchline and, even though he meant it, it had an insincere undertone. I'm your friend. The girl sighed. I'd love to tell you about it, but I'm really not allowed to. Why did your eyes get so weird before? Chloe's posture went rigid. I have no idea what you're talking about. Yes, you do.

A couple of seconds passed by without any of the two moving. Let's... Danny was all he is. Let's just keep going, okay? She sounded like she was beginning to regret letting Danny into her house. Chloe advanced on the dark hallway that stretched out in the depths of the first floor. I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to. No, you're right.

Danny counted three unopened door, she passed by, and she turned around furiously, grabbed him by the... arm and led him out of the hallway and back to the staircase. Are you angry with me? Should I go home? No. Surprisingly, when reaching the staircase, they did not descend it, as Danny might have expected. Chloe instead had Danny follow her to the second floor, where one old yet very well-kempt door stood before them. This is where my mother, grandmother and I work. Danny snapped his head in her direction. Did she say, I? How is it possible for a twelve or thirteen-year-old girl to be put to work by her mother and grandmother? Before he had the chance to mention

child protection services, Chloe inhaled deeply and opened the door. The attic was also well lit, this time, however, like pure daylight. The dust particles that swam through the air looked like glitter, and even though they were plenty, the room was very clean. Danny tried to comprehend what he was looking at. The wooden contraption seemed to be ancient, yet very steady and complex. The longer he stared at it, the more detail he was able to distinguish. Whatever it was, it was a beautiful tool and the glitter swaying all around it made it look like the cover of a fairy tale. That day was not a particularly sunny one, but the room was so bright. Danny couldn't help but look for the sort.

And there it was. At the far end of the wooden machine, spreading light all across the room with the biggest silver scissors Danny had ever seen. This spinning wheel has been in my family for generations. A spinning wheel, Danny thought, looked more like an intricate weaving loom. Always has to be three of us. The boy listened, enchanted. Clotho, the young, Lachesis the mother, and Atropos, the mother's mother. Chloe wasn't looking in Danny's direction. Even so, he recognised a hint of that earnestness from before, and, because of that, he withheld from asking about her father. In my family, every death must be accompanied by a birth at the same precise moment. Her voice was melancholic,

as she reached out her hand to stroke the wood of the spinning wheel. It's the duty of every clothel to give birth to the next one, as it is the duty of every atropos to die and make room for the next one. A knife-sharp smile crept at the edges of her mouth, as she turned her head to look at her friend. But that's okay. Sooner or later, each and every one of us will get her chance at using the scissors. That's when Danny knew.

It was no longer okay. them to be friends. Ice-cold fingers grabbed him by the collar from behind and tossed him towards the stairs. Had his reflexes been any slower, he would have fallen to his most probable death. Strangling, how dare you enter the attic of the Moirai uninvited. Then he grabbed onto the handrail for dear life. The old woman in front of him was yielding garden scissors in both hands, and boy did he do you. She looked pissed. It was me, Granny. I invited him. But Granny didn't hear anything. She threw one pair of scissors at Danny with the force of a cannon. Danny ducked at the very last moment and the scissors broke through the handrail and five balusters. Run, Danny, run! Danny sped down the stairs with the crazy old lady right behind it.

Wait until I get my hands on you, you filthy little pig. Just as Chloe's grandmother was about to throw the second pair of scissors to the boy's doom, another hand grabbed Danny. He was forced to stop and hide behind the silhouette of another woman. This one was fairly younger. Calm down, mother. It's a friend of Clothos. The old woman stopped. Oh!

And turned to look upwards at her grandchild, who was crying rivers at the top of the stairs. Did you want to shine the air? chaotic clothe. Chloe throws. She stared at the two older women with nothing but fear in her eyes. She shivered and wept, but didn't say anything in Danny's defence. Of course she didn't, mother. She might be stupid, but not that stupid. Danny suddenly felt the urge to punch the woman who was shielding him from the scissor-throwing monster. Look at him, just as shameless and despicable as all the other representatives of his gender.

He must have run around the house as soon as Clothel let him in. Chloe's head sunk in shame. Danny couldn't believe that his friend wouldn't back him up in front of her family, especially since nothing was actually his fault. Look at me, my daughter. The girl looked at her mother. She looked so devastated. Danny pitied her more than himself for a second

and expected her mother to comfort her, seeing the mesh she was. When I explained to you that you will need to make a male friend in the future, I surely didn't mean someone this week, and most certainly wasn't talking about now. More waterworks from upstairs, but she started descending slowly. Granny gruesome stepped aside, letting Chloe get to her mother. Escort your friend outside and bid your farewells. But Danny didn't wait that long. He turned around and went down the stairs, not giving Chloe.

with a chance to catch up with him. He opened the door and stepped out of the house, not even turning to say goodbye to his former friend. Danny, wait. But he didn't wait. He just kept on walking, angry as he was. I'm sorry, we're still friends, I promise. I'm still on your side. Danny would hear none of it. He was too much inside his own head to actually take note of his way home and it was the police car in his driveway that broke the days. A synonym for excrements escaped between Danny's crest lips. When Danny stepped into his house, his mother was crying on the living room sofa next to a cop while his father was making an erratic phone call. Where the hell were you? All three adults rushed to Danny as if they wanted to tackle him.

What are you guys doing home this early? The surprise of the and his voice simply slipped out. I called to see if you're okay, his mom yelled. He was so sick this morning. I got worried when I saw you wouldn't pick up. Danny was close to hitting himself for being so stupid. His mother instantly placed her hands on his face. The fever's gone, but how?

Danny was grabbed for the third time that day. Daniel, what the hell did you do? The boy was tired. too tired to come up with a believable lie. My fake being sick to stay home today. You did what? Why? Even so, he wasn't tired enough to look a pussy in front of his father. Because I felt like it.

The adults were stunned. Where in the hell were you? It didn't look like his mother would let it go and he really didn't have a reason to lie to her. Answer me, Daniel. I made friends with the girl who lives at 17 Boona Street. Boona Street? Seventeen? You mean the Manson Man?

Danny nodded and walked past his parents, heading to his room. Daniel, you are never to visit that place again. Do you understand me? Don't worry about it, Mom. He looked back at his mother with sad eyes. We're not friends anymore. The cop stood up, saying, looks like you won't be needing me anymore,

mystery Mrs Collins, just as Danny closed the door behind him. He couldn't hear him as clearly as before, but the cock's next words got to him loud and clear. Keep Danny away from the people at that old house. That places all sorts of bad news, Part 8, and so loyal. Mr Swatson almost crushed the piece of chalk between his fingers,

when he again turned his back, back to the blackboard to see that damn hand in the ear. Danny, break time wasn't even five minutes ago. I'm sorry, sir, but I really need to go. His classmates all knew why Danny was doing this, but they didn't deem it necessary to share their knowledge with the teachers. I'm sorry, Danny, but I can't keep letting you do this. Danny's eyes went wide. All teachers but Mr. Swatson forbade him from going to the loo during class. He was his very last hope and he really needed to go

so the urgency was twice as bad. Please sir, it's really urgent. The teacher looked at him over the frames of his glasses. It's for the last time, Danny. Do I make myself understood? Yes, sir.

Mr. Swatson did nothing more. He motioned towards the door with his head, dismissing Danny to go to the bathroom. The boy was ashamed. He got out of the classroom and rushed to the men's toilet, thinking of strategies to avoid nature's calling during school altogether. Danny had just decided that he'd stopped drinking anything before and during school, starting with the next day. When he opened the bathroom door and froze in its frame. Jimmy was bent over a sink, his shoulder-length blonde hair covering the size of his face.

even so his blue gaze shot daggers at Danny in the mirror's reflection Danny was just about to slam the door shut and run for his dear life when the upper classman spoke it's all right little man he looked sick the sink he was leaning against was full of his sickness too he's not here go do your business if it weren't for his throbbing bladder

Danny would have fled anyway He had no idea what Jimmy was doing or why he was in the toilet during class to begin with, but the boy did not look good at all. Last time he encountered friends of Marvin's, they were there to harm him. There's no way Jimmy could have anticipated him being there at precisely that time of day. No time to think. Time to pee. Danny ran to the very first stall as he emptied the pressure in a bowl he once got all close and personal with. Jimmy gagged at the sinks, making Danny interrupt his thoughts for a second.

It's only when he heard someone else come in, that his thoughts and flow of peace stopped altogether. There you are. I've been looking all over for you. Danny wanted to hit the wall in frustration. He whispered the synonym for excrements instead. He was getting pretty good at that. Marvin's boots were furiously speeding in Jimmy's direction. Oh, come on, Marv, please.

And just as Danny expected a punch or some other violent image-inducing sounds, he heard a wet suction noise, and another one, and another one. Danny's mouth fell again. He felt the need to touch the wall in front of him for balance. Marv, stop! Why? You said you like it. And another one. I do. It's just...

Jimmy was desperately thinking of excuses. Danny was sure of it. I just puked. I think it was a soda. I'm not feeling too well. I can make you feel better. Come here. Another wet suction sound.

This one lasted longer than the others. Marve, please stop it. I'm really not in the mood. Marvin chuckled. But it wasn't a mean chuckle. like the ones he gave Danny when he was begging for mercy. It was loving and understanding. It's okay, babe.

I'll wait for whenever you're ready. Steps were heard, followed by a mild tug on the other side of the wall to Danny's left. It was clear as day. Marvin cornered Jimmy against the wall. But that won't stop me from doing it to you. Danny heard Jimmy gasp in panic, as sounds of zippers and wrinkling, fabric filled the toilet.

Marvin, don't. Be quiet. He'll feel good. Really good. I said no. Why not, damn it. Why not? You said you want this.

You said you want me just as much as I want you. Marvin hit the wall above Jimmy's head. Danny flinched violently. I need this. Don't you get it? I need it so bad. It's driving me insane. You're driving me insane. More wrinkling fabric and wet kissing sounds.

Danny wished he were deaf. This was bad. This was very, very bad. He was not supposed to hear this conversation. It's not that I don't want you. It's just... What? What is it, babe? You know you can talk to me. Danny closed his eyes in defeat. he knew what Jimmy was about to say he couldn't blame the guy

if he'd have been in Jimmy's situation he too would have given that excuse to save himself from being violated by a person he's afraid of we're not alone there's someone in the store behind Danny was out of the toilet before Jimmy even had the chance to finish his sentence he ran and ran and ran

ignoring all the shouting happening behind him He ran across the hall, passed the security guard's office and continued running until he was at the bridge. The shouting never ceased. You're dead, Collins. You're freaking dead. I'll kill you and skull. Fuck you after I'm done. Danny ran home. He ran so fast and was so blind to the world he was passing by that he didn't even notice the black-haired girl in a white robe at the window of the spooky house on Boone Street.

She was crying. But Danny wouldn't have been able to see that, even if he did look up. Good thing the house keys were in his back pocket. After letting himself in, Danny went straight to the bathroom, to do what Jimmy did, not even 30 minutes prior. He didn't puke out of disgust. He puked out of fear. His entire body was shaking.

He'll transfer schools, yeah. Yeah, a school transfer. That's it. his parents would understand. Brushing his teeth and pacing around his room didn't help, neither with the icky taste in his mouth nor the weight of the information he'd received against his well. He waited for the computer to start up

and seriously considered looking for his mother's calming pills in his parents' bathroom. Browsing through everything which was needed for a school transfer, Danny took out a notepad to take notes. He needed to be very prepared when his parents would get home, but little did he know he'd never get the chance to put those notes to good use the house phone rang

it sound cut like burning iron through butter in the dead quiet of the house Danny let it ring because technically nobody was supposed to be home and the phone eventually stopped ringing not even five silent seconds passed and the phone rang again it rang with a fury only tired middle-class workers

get to know due to their early morning alarm clocks. When the phone rang the third time, Danny knew it was for him. He rushed to it, inhaled deeply, and prayed to God it wasn't one of his parents. Hello? Daniel Brady Collins, what in the world did you get yourself into? Oh, great. Danny seriously regretted not having the notes with him. Mom, I can explain. What the hell is this I'm hearing?

You excuse yourself to go to the bathroom in the middle of class and left school? Mr. Swanson told me you've been acting strange all semester, but I never would have thought that of my son. Mom, it's not what you think. Oh really? And mind telling me how the hell your grades are declining suddenly when, just last year you were in the top three of your class? Why do you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom during class

every chance you get. I swear to God, Danny. I hope it's cigarettes. Mom. I hope it's cigarettes because if I find out you're taking drugs, son. God help me out. Mom, I'm being bullied. Mother did not expect that one. You are? Since when? Why didn't you tell me? I can't just tell my parents I'm being bullied. Hello? I'm 13, going on 14. I have to start fighting my own battles. Fighting your own battles imply you running away from school during class. Ouch, I can't go to the bathroom during breaks because he always catches me there, mum. Today he cornered me in the toilet during class. That's why I ran away from school. It was either silence of relief or loss of words.

No bully can be that bad. Mom, I prefer pee in my pants in class than risk meeting him in the bathroom. Trust me, he is that bad. She was still angry with him, of course, but it was clear as day that his mom was happy with the explanation. Even so, her anger was overpowering every other feeling she had. I want to transfer. Don't be silly, Danny. It's probably just a phase. This phase is making me fail all my classes.

Do you want that? Mom let out a sound of surrender. I'll talk about it when your dad and I get home tonight. Okay, honey. Danny smiled victoriously, but little did he know, his victory would be very short-lived. He didn't leave your things at school, did you? Danny was just about to tell her that it's fine,

that his belongings are safe in his locker, but then he remembers. Oh, crap. The door to my locker is busted. He wished. He hadn't said that out loud. What? You need to get your butt back to school and get your things, young man.

All colour fled from his face. Mom, I can't. Didn't you just hear what I said? I did. We'll talk about it all tonight. But right now, I really need you to be brave and go back to school and get your things. But, Mom, class just ended school's out for the day very few people know that the lock of my door is busted i can go get them

no buts you're going now and that's final your dad and i are not getting you a new iPhone and nintendo just because of some bully she had a point danny always took his favorite pieces of technology to school with him and he's not about to give them up for the likes of marvin class is over for the day baby He won't be there. But Danny knew better. He hoped, from the very depths of his being, that she was right, and hung on to that hope all the way back to school. But he knew better.

Regardless, part nine. She's your friend, but everyone else is enemy. The fear that was curling up in Danny's chest made him believe that the entire world was plotting against him. The sky was getting dark and when he got to the pathway by the creepy house, the wild roses were stretching through the gaps between the fences iron bars more daring than ever before. The lake's water was getting darker. Its mirror not as reflective as it should have been, not to mention that the bad weather light made the bridge seem quite unstable. To sum it up, it was turning out to be a really shitty day. The schoolyard came into sight. It was deserted. Danny could only see the janitor up on the second floor of the school building,

running his typical errands. The wind blew mercilessly, and Danny's heart was beating inside his chest like a wild animal stuck in a cage. He was hurrying to the entrance, gliding along walls and trying to make himself as unnoticeable as possible. He wanted to believe that. Once he was inside the school, he was home free. There's no way Marvin and his bullies would wait inside the school for him, risking getting caught by the janitor or a security guard. The building was almost empty,

so Danny's screams would echo everywhere. Danny opened the gates. The security officer was nowhere to be seen. He took a couple of steps and exhaled in a vague attempt at silencing his paranoia. His paranoia, however, was there for a reason.

Damn it, kid. I thought you knew better than to come back. Danny turned around just in time to see Mike placing his iPhone back in the pocket of his jeans. The broad-shouldered boy opened the gate and gestured for Danny to follow him inside. He has your stuff. Follow me. Danny backed up a few steps. Mike stared at him, surprised by his defensiveness.

Dude, I'm not asking you to follow me. I'm telling you to. Don't be stupid. It'll hurt less if you do what you're told. The poor, 13, going on 14-year-old boy, felt unwanted tears swell up in his eyes, as his knees got uncertain of the balance they were supposed to keep. I got no idea what you did to piss him off so badly. I didn't do anything. I don't know about that, but I do know it'll get worse if you're not. you don't follow me. Danny swallowed. Even though his mouth and throat were as dry as Saudi Arabia. Where is he?

By the oak tree. This wasn't bad. This was far worse than bad. You coming? Do I have to drag you? Danny followed Mike outside and behind the building. Where the oak tree was. Every student who smoked.

Every student who wanted to make. make out. Every student knew had something secretive to do or something secretive to show and wanted little to no risk of getting caught would go to the oak tree behind the building. The tree's crown was massive and heavy. The umbrella its crown created throughout the years originated one of the most loved motos among the students. Anything that goes down at the oak tree stays at the oak tree. And no other truth was weighing heavier on Danny's shoulders at that point. The security guard was too far away to hear his screams, should there be any, and the janitor wouldn't be able to see anything due to the oak's leafy branches,

even if he were to open the windows. Danny wished he would have valued his life more than he valued his iPhone and Nintendo half an hour ago. Marvin's orange jacket with the blue zipper leaning against the tree trunk was the brightest thing in the picture of an upcoming storm. He looked the angriest Danny had ever seen him, judging by the huge grin, Psycho Wayne had plastered on his face. Danny knew this was going to be the worst day of his life. Jimmy was there too, but he, on the other hand, was looking down at his boots. He couldn't face the boy whose fate would be on his conscience forever.

Mike pushed Danny forward, and it's only when the boy entered the dome created by the Oaks umbrella, that he noticed all his belongings scattered across the damp soil. Danny delivered a shaky icebreaker. Can I... Can I have them back, please? Mike and Wayne laughed like antagonist would. Marvin watched Danny with so much hatred.

His blood froze in his veins. Sure, colleagues. Marvin approached Danny's stuff with two slow stamps. right after I'm finished He unzipped his pants Looking exactly like he was about to do the thing Danny dreaded most No

Danny wanted to tackle him But Mike grabbed him by the arms And forced him to stay put and watch Please, no, I'm begging you Jimmy looked away Shaking almost as badly as Danny was And Wayne was laughing like a madman But Marvin

Marvin's face was serene. He had no expression whatsoever as he took out his manhood and relieved himself all over Danny's things. Danny started to cry and Wayne suddenly didn't find the situation as funny anymore. Mike even loosened his grip on Danny's arms, making the boy fall to his knees on the moist ground.

Dude, maybe we should stop. Shut up. Danny was so huge. humiliated. He would have been fine with dying right there and then. Even so, more than sad, scared and humiliated. He felt rage. Danny looked at his worst nightmare, teary-eyed, and knew that what he was about to say would either be his salvation or bring his due. Please, I won't tell anybody, I swear. Jimmy turned his head violently in Danny's direction, eyes wild and mouth agape. Danny had just opened Pandora's box.

It was all over the pretty blonde boy's face. Why could Wayne look puzzled? What won't he tell Marv? It was Mike who'd ask the question. Yeah, Marv. What's up? Wayne cried. Marvin's face lost its composure, and Danny knew the boy that just took a massive piss on his belongings was not afraid of facing Juvie, jail or any other type of consequence to make him hurt for what he just outed.

Marvin was by him in mere seconds and hit him over the head so hard it felt more like a horse's hoof than a human foot. Danny fell to the ground and spat out a tooth. Most people would have surrendered and begged for their lives at this point, but Danny had already played his last card. Danny already had his most expensive possessions pissed on by this human garbage, and him begging further would only make the situation more pathetic and laughable. His rage outgrew the fear within him, and what was worse, it outgrew his survival instinct. Pick him up, Mike. Marve, don't you think it's enough? Mike asked, even though he did as he was told.

He picked Danny up by the pits of his eyes. and forced him to his knees again. It's enough when I say it is. Marvin fumbled with his zipper again. Open his mouth. I didn't finish unloading yet. This is the part where Jimmy looked genuinely panicked. He and Wayne started making desperate arm gestures to Danny behind Marvin's back,

urging him to get up and run. But Danny couldn't see them. He saw nothing but Marvin's crotch and his sick smile somewhere above the parted orange folds and the blue zipper of his oversized jacket. With nothing more to lose, Danny went all in. You know, Marvin, I don't have anything against gay guys. Actually, I'm sure most of them are very nice people. But you, my friend, you're not a gay guy.

Jimmy, Mike and Wayne held their breaths. Marvin stared Daniel down. His hand unconsciously. closing the zipper of his pants. Nobody dared to move. Nobody dared to speak, and in that precise moment, the world stopped, just long enough for Daniel's survival instinct to kick in again. His brains get up and run, command, didn't even reach his spine when Mike grabbed him, rose him upright and tossed him outside of the oak's protective circle. Run, kid. Run as fast as you can.

He didn't have to yell it out twice. Danny ran for his life. He ran to his full capacity and beyond. Marvin's thundering gallops ride on his tail. This time the bully didn't bother with verbal threats like earlier. He was chasing Danny with the clear intention of physically hurting him, and by the sounds of his exasperated, enclosing exhales, he was about to hurt him very, very badly.

Danny passed his track record long before he saw the bridge, before him. Even so, Marvin's hard breaths were so close behind him, he could almost feel the warmth of him at the back of his neck. It was when they got to the bridge that Danny knew he was doomed. The sky was deep grey and darkening, and the lake water was black as tall. If that wasn't enough of a bad omen, his loud and frightened feet knocking against the bridge's wooden boards were slowly but surely overpowered by a pair of incoming trampling boots. No sooner did they reach the pathway semi-occupied by the dark wild roses, and Danny felt cold, hungry fingers were trying to grab him by the back of his shirt.

He tripped. How? Nobody knows. He either slipped, or the feel of Marvin made him lose his balance. But he definitely tripped and had his bully surf on his chest for at least seven feats until they stopped. Danny was about to try the apology card again, but he couldn't let out one word. At first, he incredulously looked up at his bully while trying to tell him that his knees are making the sorax implode and that he can't breathe, but Marvin's knees were not on his chest

at all. Marvin's knees were at his sides, and the reason why Danny felt choking was because the bully's hands were wrapped around his neck, and they were squeezing. Hard. Danny led out an indiscernible gag. He tried clinging to Marvin's arms, tried cloring at his face. But Marvin's face was the frozen picture of one intention and one intention only. Murder. He didn't give up clawing at everything he could get his fingers on, even though he felt his head getting dizzy and his vision getting cloudy. Marvin was pressing and squeezing it, mere seconds before. passing out, Danny gathered all of his strength not to defend himself, but to point at something, Marvin was too out of it to even notice what was going on around him, but he did notice the change

in his victim's demeanour. It changed from fright to confusion. What the hell was he pointing at anyway? Daniel was pointing at Marvin's heart, or so it seemed. Marvin looked down, He didn't notice it at first, but after he blinked once or twice, it dawned on him. His beloved orange jacket with a blue zipper had been completely cut off from the chest down. Marvin immediately let go of Danny's throat, the absence of over half of his jacket being the new focus of his attention. Danny coughed and inhaled greedily, as Marvin looked, bewildered around himself, to see why and how and who could have done. such a gruesome thing to his most beloved piece of clothing. He turned to look behind himself, and that's when he saw the long, thin, orange thread that connected the remains of his jacket

to a small, glowing figure at the furthest side of the bridge. Marvin felt scared for the first time that evening. Danny had gotten enough oxygen in his brain to lift his torso up on his elbows and look in the direction in which Marvin was staring. His blood ran coal. The bridge was dark, and so was the sky. The only things illuminating the scene were a small figure wearing a white garment at the other end of the bridge, the neon glowing orange thread that connected Marvin's jacket

to the figure's fist, those sparkling white eyes Danny knew not to mess with. What the! Chloe had one hand tangled up in the thread of Marvin's jackets, and the other behind her back. Danny's heart began to race again, and for the first time in the last week, it was not for his own sake. No, Chloe, don't. But Clotho would hear none of it. Her decision was made. She revealed her grandmother's scissors from behind her back, their massive silver glow.

glowing as strong as her eyes were. Marvin was star-struck. He rubbed his eyes, convinced he was dreaming. Poor boy didn't even get the chance to see Clotho snap the scissors shut on his bright orange yard. Time stopped right then and there. Danny wanted to move, but he couldn't. All he could do was helplessly watch as the wild roses came to life. The bud sniffed the air as he was,

if they were hungry feline smelling blood. Some roses slithered on the path like snakes. Others opened their buds up like famished sharks, ready to chow down on their prey. First, there were the questions. The, what the fucks? And what is this? And what are you doing?

Then there was a struggling. Then the ordering around, followed by the refusal. This isn't happening. Get off of me. This isn't happening. The boy was screaming bloody murder by the time one rose ate his right eye, and three others sucked at his fingers. A rather bloomed rose entwined its stem around Marvin's neck,

digging its thorns into his flesh. The same rose started chewing at the bully's ear, sucking on it like it found something yummy inside his head. Numerous other roses bit at his stomach, his legs, his back, chest and every other piece of flesh they could find. The plants were hungry, and they were loud too. Danny couldn't tell who was louder. The roses, who sounded like tigers, tearing up a gazelle,

or Marvin, who sounded like one hundred piglets up for slaughter. The roses dragged Marvin up to the fence. Since the chunk of flesh that remained of the boy was still too big to fit through the gaps between the fences iron bars, the roses resumed their feast outside of the fence. For Danny to see clearly, he could not believe his eyes. The roses were munching and chewing as if they were predators from the very top of the food chain.

Danny remembered. His former friend was supposed to be at the other end of the bridge. So he looked at her just in time to see her derange grandmother come running out of the house. He stood motionless in the middle of the pathway, sheltered by the shadows and too far away to be seen by the old woman the last thing danny saw before snapping out of his days and running home was chloe's white robe dancing in the wind of the upcoming storm and her crying diamond die by the time the mother and grandmother got out of the house to confiscate the scissors out of chloe's hands danny was already halfway home "'Clotho! Spring off one's life! What have you done?' He could still hear that last part when he closed the door to his house behind him.

Danny cried under the covers until his parents came home. He expected his dad home by 7pm and his mother by 8, but he never thought they'd show up together at 5.30. He was still crying when his mom entered his room, followed by his father. "'Sweetie, is everything all right?' She didn't sound angry anymore. Quite the contrary, she sounded apologetic. She probably realized that she'd exaggerated over the phone earlier

and acknowledged that teenage bullies can be very, very cruel at times. Your father and I are home, honey. You wanted to talk about this bully? Danny sat upright and wiped his eyes with the sleeves of his hoodie to see his parents better. Dad turned on the lamp and both parents sat down at Danny's sides, taking Danny's hands in their own. They watched Danny expectantly,

their understanding parent faces showing nothing but love. He, Danny sobbed. I went back to school and he had my things. His dad gave his mum an accusatory lance. I wanted to take them back, but he chased me and... Danny cried. some more. Something terrible happened. The boy looked scared out of his mind. I think, I think she heard him, and I think she did it for me. What? Who did? Chloe, the girl from the creepy house on Boone Street.

Didn't I tell you to stop hanging around that house? His mother exploded. Whom did she hurt Daniel? asked his father in a calm voice. Danny inhaled deeply, trying to stop an incoming sob. Marvin, Cage, he lives on Maple Street, and he and his friends have been bullying me for months. The sob broke through. Everybody knew Marvin Cage. The cages had three sons, and all of them were assholes. Marvin was the worst.

Everybody in the neighbourhood knew him from that one time, when he tried drowning Mrs. White's cats. He was ten at the time. Danny expected a compassionate hand on his head and a welcoming Paul to cry on someone's shoulder. But these things didn't come, and when Danny wiped his eyes dry enough to make out his parents' facial expressions, he somehow knew why. His mom and dad looked at each other. Confusion ridden all over their faces. His mother spoke. I'm sorry, Danny, but who's that again?

Part 10. And you need her, you pathetic little man. Daniel found his school bag and jacket inside his locker the following day. They were as dry as could be and smelled as pleasant as ever. So you're sure you didn't find them by the oak tree out back? Cleaned him up and put him in my locker? The security guard looked at him, dumbfounded, yet amused. What?

No. That's forbidden territory for us. You kids need your privacy, too, you know. I didn't touch your things or your locker. You're all right today, young man? Yes, sir, I'm fine. All right. Run along now.

Class is about to start. Class started, and Danny waited all day. Hoped even to see that menacing face looking for him through the classroom door window. It never came. During the first break, Danny saw Wayne and Mike passing each other by in the main corridor. They didn't even say hi to each other, and that was very unlike them, because they were always together. He also saw Jimmy during lunch, sitting at the weirdos table, chatting and smooching with the school's goth girl, Lucinda Big.

During the last break of the day, Danny even gathered enough courage to approach Jimmy and Lucinda in the hall. Hey, have you heard from Marvin today? Jimmy looked confused. He threw Lucinda a look and she shrugged. Sorry, kid, no clue who that is. Marvin. Marvin Cage. The guy in the orange jacket you always hang out with.

Lucinda let out a laugh. You're seeing someone behind my backpate? Jimmy laughed too. If I were best believe I wouldn't go for a dude. She hit him playfully, and they both giggled. What do you mean? You don't know. I saw you in the boy's bathroom yesterday. You were hiding from him.

I saw you puking your guts out in the sink. Jimmy got wide-eyed. You saw me do what? When did this happen exactly? Lucinda asked. During last period, sometime between 2 and 2.30 p.m. The two lovebirds, exchanged a quick glance.

What's your name, kid? Danny flinched. Daniel, Collins. Danny Collins? Danny? Jimmy and I are in the same classes on Thursdays. He was with me the entire time between 2 and 2.30 p.m. yesterday. Danny began to shiver.

You're all right, kid. Do you need help? Should we call somebody for you? Yeah. You don't know. look too good. Is this Marvin guy a friend of yours? Jimmy and his girlfriend look genuinely worried for him. Are you sure you don't know anybody named Marvin Cage? Yep, pretty sure. Danny felt sick to his stomach. Okay, okay, yeah, that's okay. Sorry, bye. He turned around and went back to class,

not catching the part where Jimmy showed his girlfriend that the little man might be a loony. Right after school was over, Danny got his stuff and went home, the long way round. He looked around, hoping from the bottom of his heart to see the glimmer of the bright orange jackets somewhere behind a tree,

or in the window of the bar he saw Marvin exit a couple of days before. Danny was desperate, so desperate that he actually realized what he was doing, when Bruce Cage, Marvin's father, answered the door. Yeah? Danny saw some resemblance, all right. He looked exactly like Marvin, but with a big heart and facial hair.

Is Marvin home? Who? Danny was so desperate for answers. He would have entered the house and searched for the bully himself. Marvin, your youngest son, is he home? No idea what you're talking about, kid. Wrong house. Slam.

Danny had no choice. He ran back to the shortcut. The bridge looked fine and the pathway was as gloomy as ever. There was a slight difference, though. It seemed that someone finally found the time to mend the wild roses that stretched outside the fence. Danny looked up at the house and saw nobody. He crouched next to the fence and started to look around for something, anything that would remind the world of the existence of someone named Marvin. But it wasn't there, and got nothing.

His friends didn't know him, his family never knew him. How, even the vandalism his stuff suffered vanished into thin air. Everything was as if Marvin never even existed. Danny got up and looked at the house again. More terrified and thankful, he turned around and walked home, that time being the very last time he took the shortcut by the creepy house on Boone Street to or from school. Life went on.

Danny had to make up some story for his parents regarding his bully, and they never pestered him about it more than necessary. In time, Danny became Daniel, and Daniel stopped thinking about both Marvin and Chloe in favour of focusing on studying and getting into a good college. As time progressed, Daniel found love. He was doing great for himself. His wife was pregnant with their second child

when he quit his job to both invest in a startup company and start his own business. By the time he was in his 40s, Daniel was a pretty wealthy guy and life was very good to him. However, it all started going downhill when his father died. The death in itself was no biggie. Mr. Collins was old and sick, and he wished for death long before the pain became insufferable. Daniel's wife didn't want to go to the funeral, and Daniel never even suspected her reason.

He found out by accidents, not even a month after it happened. She was having an affair. that's okay Daniel told both her and himself no marriage is perfect maybe he even deserved it he thought because even if he wasn't thinking about Marvin

every day he learned from an early age that whatever goes around comes around maybe he did something bad and now the universe was getting its revenge on him it was just a tumultuous period

in his marriage nothing a couple of counselling sessions wouldn't fix problem is the counselling didn't fix anything the wife's cheating took the worst turn possible

she fell in love more than that she got pregnant again and her lover convinced her to leave Daniel and start a new family with him so Danny got a divorce because both kids preferred their mother they decided to go stay with her

and their new daddy even so Daniel still thought that, well, that's okay. His wife was just being a bully and fate hates bullies. She'll get what she deserves sooner or later. But his ex-wife's life just kept getting better and better. Even though she was over 40 years old when she gave birth to her third child, the birth ran smoothly and the child was as healthy as could be. It was a boy. They named him Marvin. By the time his ex-wife was in her 50s, she'd traveled the world alongside her three kids and her partner. What's worse is that

Daniel's children were tagging mum's lover with the caption, Daddy, on social media. And that's okay, Daniel thought. They'll wake up eventually. Life works like that. Daniel began to drink. The startup he invested in two decades prior went bankrupt, and his own business was doing bad too. He had to sell his spacious mansion and move into a shitty 42-foot-square apartment before going into complete ruin. He had some money for a little while, but most of it needed to be invested in his children's college funds. Otherwise, his ex-wife would have legally sucked up every little thing he still owed.

Daniel had nothing left but his daily bottle of happiness, and the reassurance that someday someone will do him justice. but that day never came his daughter became a mother of twins and it broke Daniel's heart that he never got the chance to meet them his son turned out to be a movie star and his mother and new husband were tagged in all the photos of the events he was invited to Daniel was never invited to any of them and it slowly stopped being okay his ex-wife was getting happier and happier whilst he was getting more and more miserable. And then his mother died.

Partially it was a relief because his unemployment checks stopped covering both the living expenses and his much-needed alcohol supply. Now that his mother was gone, his parents' house was all his, so money for rent wasn't needed anymore. He went back to his roots, with the priceless three things he still owned,

an Armani jacket with torn up sleeves A tabler he stole from a cafe While its owner was in the bathroom And a beat-up Volvo He got as a gift from his 80-year-old neighbor Out of pity Daniel's life was as shitty as could be And it all came flashing back to him

As soon as the shield that passed by the passenger window announced him That he had just entered his childhood hometown Daniel cried And cried until his shirt was wet at the chest. His life turned to shit, and he knew it. He knew.

Karma isn't always a bitch to those who deserve it, but to whomever she fancies. Apparently, he was one of her favourites, because after his dad died, Daniel took blow after blow, while his cheating wife took blessing after blessing. Daniel shut his brain off long before seeing the bridge. It had been remade.

It was wider and looked more stable than before, but Daniel was too engrossed in the task at hand to notice him. He stopped the engine of his shitty car as soon as he reached the pathway. The Wild Roses denied passage to anything broader than 20 inches, but Daniel paid them no mind whatsoever. He wouldn't have been able to even say what colour they were. He entered the yard, the house getting bigger and more menacing with every step.

the roses got suspicious they began to hiss and slowly follow Daniel to the main door of the house inquiring what his business was Daniel knocked four times the strength of his determination reverberated in the entire house the roses hissed loud at this time letting Daniel know that he wasn't welcome it they would attack if he made a wrong move but Daniel didn't care he was here to report a bully someone opened the door just slightly and Daniel recognised a dark-coloured iris even though the skin surrounding it was wrinkled and old

it was the naive girl who used to be something of a friend to him once she was the grandmother now which meant it was her rightful turn to yield the scissors Daniel remembered that much from their brief yet eventful encounter her name wasn't clotho anymore no clotho was now the name of her granddaughter and speaking of her granddaughter she had just squeezed her little blonde head by granny's leg to take a look at the visitor what do you want her voice was just as venomous as the hissing behind him i need your help and why would i help you The roses were getting louder.

It was a gamble, and Daniel knew it. One inappropriate word from him, and he'd become fertilizer. Because that's what friends are for. They stared at each other for a couple of seconds. Daniel didn't even flinch, and neither did atropos. She looked him deep in the eye and read every single sorrow that weighed him down. A desperate man stood before her. Atropos smiled.

She would never have admitted it, but she was very happy to see him after all those years. The grandmother stepped aside, and for the first time in the history of the creepy house on Boone Street, the front door was wide open for a welcome guest. Come in, Danny. Come in and tell me all about it. And so once again, reach the end of tonight's night.

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.