Lighthouse Horror Podcast - I Work At A Half Priced VOODOO Shop | Scary Stories

Episode Date: August 2, 2023

You won't believe what happens here... Story from Voodoo_Clerk Make sure to check out more of their work at u/Voodoo_Clerk         Original Post: My Life as a Voodoo Puppet (Part 1) : r/nosleep             Original YouTube link: I Work At A Half Priced VOODOO Shop  For more stories like this one, check out my YouTube channel: Lighthouse Horror | YouTube  Patreon: Lighthouse Horror | Patreon Sound Effects: Freesound Zapsplat  Music: Lucas King - YouTube Myuu - YouTube  Incompetech Thank you for listening to this scary story! If you enjoyed this new creepypasta story, please check out some of my other horror stories. We'll be uploading new scary stories, new true stories, and new creepypasta stories every day!

You ever get out of high school and realize you have no idea what the hell you want to do with your life? Turns out, just kind of waiting and seeing where life takes you can really only get you so far. You're always told, oh, what do you want to do when you get out of high school? Simple enough question. Well, turns out it's a lot harder to figure that shit out when you don't really think of it the entire time you're in high school. So what do you do when walking down that aisle and accepting your diploma and suddenly you realize you have no clue what you want to do with your life? My name is Travis and when I graduated high school I had no idea what the hell I wanted to do with my life.

College? Not appealing to me. Job? Even less appealing. So what did I do with all my government mandated education? Stayed home, sleeping all day, and gaming all. night. Typical deadbeat shit. And like any loving and supportive parents, my lovely mom and dad threatened to kick me out on my ass unless I found something to make of my life. So I weighed my options. College? I had no idea what to study. The nearest college was several miles away. I had no scholarship opportunities. The idea of being in debt for the majority of my life was very unappealing. Job. I get home tired and probably have have to listen to some asshole boss. So it was a job I ended up choosing, although trying to find

any kind of employment in my town was near impossible. Unless I wanted to work at a factory for the rest of my life, I really had to expand my search from fast food to garbage man, throwing my application to any place that had a help wanted sign. And that's how I ended up at Old King Creoles. Honestly, I don't remember. I don't remember even applying here. I just got a call one day when I was laying in bed reading a book. My phone pulled me away from what I was doing and I sighed as I stared at the unfamiliar number. The person behind the line talked with a heavy old southern accent, but I could tell how excited he was to meet me in person. And I was excited to finally shove it in my parents' faces

that I had made something with my life. Working at a voodoo shop, living the dream, right? Of course, if you asked me now what I would have chosen, college is looking a bit more optimal, if only a little bit. Now look, we've all heard the story of bosses from hell and shitty working conditions for shit pay. And to some extent, I get that. I'll get into my boss in a second.

I really don't hate this place. The customers piss me off more than anything. Let me explain why by explaining my job. I work at Old King Creel's half-priced voodoo shop. Quite the mouthful, huh? It's this glorified shack full to the brim with freaky dolls and spooky cobwebs. Lovely place, really, especially at night when all the desperate people come in begging for wishes or potions.

Oh yeah, we give out free wishes. like really real wishes. But I don't handle that, so I'm not going to talk much about them. Just remember, if you ever come in and ask for a wish, please think it through thoroughly. I'm so tired of wiping up the counter after a bad wish gets granted. The main thing I deal with is doll sales and potions. Need that war removed? Got a great potion for that.

You a shitty parent and forgot little Jimmy's birthday. One of these dolls should do it. Just don't come crying to me when Jimmy's soul gets trapped in the doll. We have a strict no-return policy. Is it a scam? No. You bought it without asking if it could suck up Jimmy's soul. Can't really do much about that now, can I?

Potions are more flexible. The only time I've seen it go bad was a weight-loss potion. Had to sell the angry lady a potion to get rid of all her excess skin. I don't know what she expected. She was like 300 pounds. Did she think all that skin was going to go somewhere? The way I check into work is also pretty interesting, if I can call it that. I show up on time, or five minutes late without fail, and stab a needle into a voodoo doll on the counter. It's not meant to look like anyone since it's a blank template, but still doesn't make it any less weird. I swear that thing looks at me whenever I'm on my phone when nobody is in the shop and I've got

nothing to do what do you want me to do wipe the counter down for the million time I've tried man the dust always comes back without fail you turn around for half of a second and it's back it's gotten to the point where I just leave it and draw things in it what else oh yeah we have a basement I'm never allowed to go into I was told by my boss I'll talk about him soon calm your horses, that I'm never allowed down there. Not that I even want to go down there, the loud knocking coming from it and the crying has pretty well and truly kept me away from it. Hey, don't you start judging me about it. If you're so damn curious, you go down there if you're so

damn tough. I'm just the cashier. If I'm told not to go down into the freaky murder basement, I ain't going down there. What else happens here? Hmm. Well, the place. The place seemingly stocks itself, so that's pretty cool. Sometimes. This place can get so boring when nobody is here that I wish I could restock the shelves or the potions. Something, man. I get paid to sit behind a counter and ring up things people want to buy.

Simple as that. I've been working here for about two months, and man does it feel like I've been here for decades. Each of my days takes like three, man. All right, I'll stop whining and talk about my boss. If you guessed his name is King Creole, then ding ding, congratulations. You've been paying attention to my dumb ramblings. King Creole, who will shorten to K.C., for now, is weird, like an uncanny valley kind

of weird. He's this six-four lanky man with messy black hair and buttoned eyes. You ever watch Coraline? Yeah, we're approaching other mother territory. Though, I guess he's got her beat, because he's real. And his mouth is sewn up. Same with his throat and neck, like he's got stitches all around his neck. Sometimes when he turns his head too quickly, you can see it wobble and his stitches about to snap. It's gross. He's pretty cool, all things said, though he definitely doesn't have a concept of personal space. When I walked into work for my first day, he came out of God knows where and grabbed my hand

and put his face like a good three inches away from mine. One thing that strikes you about Casey, apart from the stitches and button eyes, is how pale he is. Like I'm no bronze god myself, but Casey is about as pale as white chalk. Like it's unreal. When I first met him, I thought he was wearing paint or something. But nope, that's his skin. I think, anyway.

If you look at him long enough, you kind of see his skin cracking, like a sun bleached corpse or something. I don't know. All in all, he isn't such a bad boss. He pays well enough. I get $20 an hour to just sit here and ring up an occasional customer. You got a wish. Sorry, that's KC's department.

And of course, if you mess up your wish and end up. as a bloody mess on the floor and counter, guess what poor idiot has to clean that up? Yours truly. So please, if you ever show up to old King Creole's half-priced voodoo shop, think your stupid wishes through. Now, if you'll excuse me, my break is done and that thing in the basement is really banging on the door. And that doll on the counter is really given me the stink guy. If anything else, interesting happens here. I'll let you guys know. Hello again. I thought I'd tell you all a story for my second week of working at this half-priced voodoo shop. Well, I had punched in like any other day before, stabbing a pin into that doll template that just stares at me all day from its spot

on the counter. At this point, I was still struggling in vain to keep the counter clean, but alas, to no avail. So I resigned myself to just mess around on my phone until I had to be saw some form of life. Travis, my boy, came the voice of my boss and owner of this fine establishment, King Creole himself. How's this job been treating ya? He asked. His stitched-up lips curled into a smile as he came around the counter and wrapped an arm around me, causing me a decent amount of discomfort.

As I've mentioned before, King Creole has buttoned eyes, a stitched-up mouth, and and a head being kept on his shoulders by some stitches. He always wears a nice black suit with a dark purple tie and a top hat. Yes, even indoors. And yes, I know he looks ridiculous, but look, man, I'm trying to keep this job as long as possible, so don't blow this for me. It's going okay, Mr. Creole. I said awkwardly. Still at this point, weirred it out by his looks and his unnaturally chalk white skin. He nodded happily at me. and gave me a good smack on the back, getting a loud oof out of me. Fantastic to hear, son.

Now remember, they come asking for a wish you'd just come fetch old King Creole. And I'll be right all over. He hummed happily, finally letting go of me and standing back. I nodded, since that was really the only thing I didn't have to do here. By the way, I think one of the dolls is missing. I pointed out to him, pointing towards the wall of voodoo dolls that goes from the floor to the ceiling. Each of them is of a different design and of a different person, so if one goes missing,

there's usually a reason. Oh, well I'll be. He hummed, almost happily, as his button eyes turned back to me and he gave me a yellow-toothed smile behind his stitches. I expect a customer will come in today. He chuckled, walking past me and patting me on the shoulder. His hand was as cold as ice. Giving a bit of a shiver as he vanished to the office in the back, I sat my butt down on the uncomfortable stool that sat behind the counter and went back to looking at my phone, periodically peeking at the doll on the counter and turning it back over whenever it somehow managed to turn it.

turn and look at me. About an hour into my shift, the old rusty bell on the door clanged, signaling me to get off my phone as I quickly hit it and looked over to the customer. It was a girl, about my age, maybe a year older. She looked around at the place, a bit disgusted by all the cobwebs, quickly coming closer to me. Luckily, she didn't look at the wall of doll since their gaze followed her as she came up to the counter. Welcome to Old King Creole's half-priced voodoo shop. I said in my best, I do actually want to be here voice. What can I help you with?

I asked her, putting my hands on the counter and looking down to make sure it wasn't too dusty. Hi, um, the sign outside said free wishes, she asked me, with a raised brow. She seemed like the sporty kind of person. How did I know this? Because she was wearing workout gear in the middle of fall. She obviously was jogging and saw our sign. How exactly does that work? She asked me.

Yeah, I got to go get my boss to handle that weight here while I go get him. I asked her, and she nodded, still a bit skeptical about this place. And I don't really blame her about that at all if I'm being honest. Getting off my stool, I stretched a bit and made my way over to the king's office, flinching when whatever was in the basement started pounding on the door again. At this point, I was still afraid of it, so I just quickly ran past it into the boss man's office, knocking three times, like I was always told to do. Hey, Mr. Creole, we have somebody here asking about a wish, I said.

I received silence from the office. Raising a brow at that, I tried again, knocking another three times to get a response, although the response I got was the girl at the counter, screaming. Turning quickly, I saw that it was just my boss standing at the counter. Looking back at the office and over to the counter, I scratched my head at how the hell he could have gotten over there so quickly, but ultimately resigned myself to it just being not worth my time to think about. I do apologize for startling you, darling.

King Creole hummed, taking his hat off and putting it to his chest. I do forget sometimes that my parents does frighten the faint of heart. He hummed with a chuckle. Yeah, I had had the same reaction as that girl when I'd first seen him. It's a little early for Halloween. The girl pouted, backing up from him, and I can imagine, really rethinking the idea of coming in here. I wouldn't have blamed her if she had left right there. Would have saved me the trouble of cleaning up afterwards.

What can I do for you, Melissa? My boss asked, putting his hat back on that messy mat of black hair he owned and putting his hands out in front of him, obviously throwing the girl off by knowing her name. She looked to me as if to see if I was having the same reaction. I just shrugged at her. He did the same thing to me, so I didn't know what she wanted. Well, she began, looking back at him and pursing her lips and thought. What does asking for a wish entail? She asked him, crossing her arms at him. Not a bad question to ask in my own honest opinion.

Ah, well, you ask Lilo me for a wish. And I grant it for you, no strings attached. He hummed, holding his hands up and showing that some strings dangled down from his gloved fingers. I do ask that you think through your wish very thoroughly. Wishes have a very bad tendency of backfiring. He said with a sad tone, I looked at my boss with a raised brow. That was the first time I'd seen him show any kind of emotion that wasn't, well, creepy happy is the best way to describe him.

Seemingly sensing I was staring at him, his attention turned to me. Chiravas, can you please get something out of my office? He asked with a hum. I looked up at him, confused since I was never really allowed in there. But hey, he pays me, so I might as well do it. Right? Sure, what do you need?" I asked, looking to the counter and noticing that stupid doll was staring at me again.

Get the brown satchel bag that's under the desk. I'll handle young Miss Melissa. He hummed, turning his attention back to her, his hands coming down to the dusty counter and drumming his hands on them. Sure thing, sir. I shrugged, giving one last look to the girl before turning to the girl. turning and going to his office. Not before that thing in the basement started banging again and startled me, quickly rushing past it and into his office. King Creole's office was surprisingly

spotless. I say that because the entire shop is covered in dust and cobwebs, so seeing such a nice office was definitely jarring. I know you guys are expecting severed heads and dead bodies everywhere, but really he just has a desk and some photos on the wall. All of them are scratched out though, so I didn't really pay too much attention to it. Going over to his desk and looking underneath it, I did indeed see the satchel bag he told me to fetch. Taking it and heading out of his office, I came back to Melissa shaking his gloved hand and both of their attentions turned to me. Travis, good boy, you found it. He hummed, as he motioned, as he motioned, as he motioned, for me to come closer to him. I did and handed him the satchel. With a cheerful grin on

his stitched-up mouth, he quickly slammed it down on the counter, kicking up dust and sending both me and Melissa into a coughing fit. He opened it up and searched inside of it for a bit, his smile growing wider and seemingly about to bust his stitches when he pulled out exactly what he was looking for. Pulling out a small, can of what looked like skincare cream. Now then, your exact wish was that you never wanted acne problems ever again. Correct? He asked the girl, tilting his head and waiting for an answer.

From my angle at his side, I could notice that his head really strain the stitches on his neck. That would have been funny to see his head go rolling around the shop. Melissa looked uncomfortable, obviously self-conscious about my being there. But she nodded to the voodoo salesman, who in turn handed her the cream. She looked down at it, and then up to him, a quizzical look on her face. Well, go on, darling. Try it out. Creole said, a smile still on his face.

Melissa looked down at it and uncapped it. I tried to peek from my spot next to Creole from behind the counter into the jar. It was just a normal white cream, like any other kind of skin care product. Melissa sighed as she dipped her finger into the cream and got a conservative amount, tapping it on her cheeks and face as she spread it out in circles on the surface. And when she was finished, she pulled out her phone from her pocket. and looked at herself, eyes raised as she waited for something to happen. And well, something did happen.

She started screaming really loud, and her skin started sizzling and dripping off her face. Now, I'm not squeamish much, but being caught off guard like that, I backed up and away from the counter. What the hell is this? Melissa screamed as the skin on her face started dripping off her faster, like a melting candle. Meanwhile, I was behind the counter struggling to keep my food down. Luckily for me, I had skipped breakfast, so I just gagged a lot. You asked for no more acne, dear.

Creole hummed over her loud screams and the sizzling of her skin. Now, you won't have to worry about that ever again." He hummed with a soft chuckle as he watched her squirm and scream some more. At this point, Melissa's face was mostly on the floor in a bloody mess. She clawed at what was left of her skin as it melted her down to her skull and sinew. Her hands weren't spared either as they too started melting their skin off. took less than two minutes for the girl called Melissa to have become nothing but a steaming pile of bones, blood, and other gross shit on the shop floor. Travis, be a good boy and clean up this mess,

please. Creole said as he turned his attention to me. I was still hacking and looked up to him like he was insane. I just watched some girl die in front of me and now he wanted me to get rid of her. Just a little bit crazy, don't you think? I started to stammer, holding my stomach and shivering some at what I'd just seen. But my gaze turned when he gripped me by the shoulder and stared into my eyes with his button eyes. Be a good boy and clean this up. Put the pile of bones in a trash bag and toss it into the basement. He hummed to me, raising his finger quickly when I tried to remind him that I wasn't allowed in the basement.

I'll be down there, so don't worry about it. He hummed, patting me hard on the back and walking over to the door, unlocking it with a key he produced from his suit pocket and inserting it into the basement door. Opening it quickly, he closed it behind him. I could hear his muffled yelling and whatever was done. downstairs, scurrying away from the door as his footsteps disappeared down into the unknown. Looking over at the pile of human bones and blood, I sighed hard and looked behind the counter, putting on rubber gloves and getting out a mob. I went to work. Collecting all the bones

by hand and putting them in a trash bag and doing my best to hold my breath. I didn't know if you wanted the organs in there as well, so I just scooped them up quick. and shoved them into the bag. I was gagging hard, but I pushed it aside and did my best to mop up the leftover blood. I did a decent job for it being my first time and all. Finally, I grabbed the bag and went over to the basement door, looking at it and swallowing a lump in my throat before I opened the door and looked down into the pitch black hole. Looking at the bag, I tied it up as good as I could and chucked it down there.

Closing the door again and sighing hard as I kept a hand on it and looked down at the floor. A little shining piece of broken porcelain caught my attention. Reaching down, I grabbed it and looked at it. It was just a white piece, maybe from a vase or something. So I shoved it in my pocket and went back to my stool, pulling out my phone and shivering as I scrolled through it. King Creole returned after thirty minutes, slamming the door shut and locking it, mumbling something to himself as he took off his hat and dusted it.

Looking over to me, his smile returned and he walked over, peering over the counter to see my work. Excellent work, Travis! He hummed, wrapping an arm around me and looking at me, like a proud father when his son caught his first fish. Why don't you take the rest of the day off? Here, for all your trouble. He hummed, rolling his fingers like he was doing a card trick and producing $200. Staring at that amount of money, and then back at him, he could have asked me to lick the dusty counter and I would have done it. Taking it from him, I nodded and thanked him. Getting everything I came with, my phone and nothing else, I unstuck the pin from the voodoo doll,

and left without another word said. Now look, I know what you're all thinking. I covered up some girl's death or helped get rid of her body. And you're right, I did. But in my own defense, I did get paid a lot to do it. And it seems like everyone thought she just ran away. No police ever came to the shop and they never do whenever a wish goes bad. So don't start your preaching to me.

Not like I'm the one telling people to make wishes without thinking them through. So if you ever end up at this shop, think your wishes through, okay? Now I need to get back to work. Customer just walked in. What would you do if you got held up at work? Like at gunpoint and some coped-up junkie is screaming at you to give him all the money in the register. your hands up and comply. Try and be a hero and fight him off with a bat or a gun hidden

under the counter. I always thought I would just give the guy the cash register and hold my hands up while he left with it. That was until I got held up not once, but twice in the same week. It was the first time I got to work on time, looking around to make sure King Creole wasn't hiding behind some corner that I didn't even know existed in the shop. satisfied that my boss wasn't going to scare me, I walked over to the counter and stabbed my needle into the counter doll, taking a seat on my stool and sighing as I started my shift, drumming my fingers up and down on the counter. Normally, I would see at most four or five customers during an entire shift. Most want a wish, much to my chagrin, and maybe one or two of them

want a potion. That's a simple procedure. You ask you ask you. for a potion and I ring you up. Easy as that. I don't have to clean anything and I don't have to help discard a body. But unfortunately for me, not many people want a potion. They'd rather try and wish for something. So when a guy came in wearing a beanie and a hoodie, I was more than willing to bet that he was going to ask for a wish. I barely opened my mouth to talk to him when a gun was shoved in front of my face. By reflif, I put my hands up slowly. Easy, man, I said in his squeaky surprised voice. Don't try and say you wouldn't react the same way. Shut up. Is it just you in here? The guy asked, his eyes

darting everywhere in a paranoid state. He was obviously on something. He had to be to try and rob a place that looked abandoned 90% of the time. Uh, I think my boss is here. And that thing in the basement, but I'm pretty sure I can't get out. I motioned my head over to the shut basement door, which of course this time was not banging or crying or screaming. The guy, obviously unamused, shoved the gun further in my face. Get your boss out here, before I blow your brains all over the walls. He threatened, cocking the hammer back on his revolver. Okay, just chill, man. I said, putting my hands up higher as I backed up and started making my way over to the boss man's office. Lucky the guy was so busy focused on me, because believe me when I say that the dolls on the

wall behind him looked like they wanted to jump down and rip him to shreds. Making it to King Creole's office, I quickly knocked on it, looking back to the guy who was staring at the counter doll. I imagine he had the look on him that he gives when I'm slacking off on my phone. Travis, what do you want? Creole's voice came from his office. The door opening and him looking down at me, then over to the guy holding up his establishment. His smile lowered a bit, but it didn't falter. Instead, he nodded knowingly and stepped out, fixing his dark purple tie and walking over to the counter with me next to him. Jesus.

The robber gasped when he saw King Creole coming towards him, a pretty normal response when seeing my boss for the first time. The man didn't falter for too long, though, pointing the gun up at the lanky voodoo shop owner. What can I do for you? Creole asked with a hum, hands clasped together as he looked down at the robber. an ounce of concern on that chalky white face of his. Open up the register in the safe.

The robber said quickly, looking back at the door, then back to us quickly. The gun firmly in his hands and a serious look on his face, despite his eyes darting between us. Well, I don't have a safe. But if it's the register you want, Travis will be more than willing to open it for you. Right, Travis, my boy? He asked me, giving me a hard smack to my back and sending me stumbling forward. The robber nearly shot me on the spot as I did so.

My hand still up and I looked back to Creole like he was sending me to the slaughter. Well, if he wanted to get robbed, I really couldn't stop him. I walked back behind the counter and opened up the register. And one look at it told me that it was way more filled than usual. I can say that for a fact. because when I opened it up, the thing shot some loose bills up into the air. My eyes were as wide as the robbers, who quickly pushed me aside and started filling up his hoodie and pants pockets with all the cash from the register.

Now, Kevin. King Creole's voice hummed in a tone that I knew meant trouble, the one he used when persuading someone into wishing for something. I started instinctively backing away from him. him as he kept up shoving bills into his pockets. He did look up though, obviously confused as to how the voodoo man knew his name. How the hell do you know my name? The robber, who I guessed was indeed named Kevin, asked, pointing a gun at King Creole, who didn't flinch as he walked over to him. The robber was obviously freaked out, the gun shaking in his hand.

Didn't your mama ever teach you that stealing is very, very bad? Creole said, raising a glove finger and shaking it at Kevin, who started shivering and backing up from the man. And didn't anyone ever tell you not to play with guns? He asked the man. Kevin looked to me, his eyes wide with fear as he pointed the shaking revolving. forward. A loud crack went off in the shop. My own eyes were wide as my ears rang, seeing that Kevin had pulled the trigger on my boss. I looked over to King Creole, who staggered to a stop,

his head jerked backward and the stitches holding his head on almost snapping off. Oh, Kevin, Kevin, Kevin. His voice still rang, causing both my and Kevin's jaw to hit the floor. Creole jerked his head back into place, only this time there was an obvious bullet hole in his forehead. Looks like I'll have to teach you a lesson. He chuckled. Kevin then started backing up, dropping the gun to the floor and holding his hands up. I, meanwhile, looked over at Creole, completely dumbfounded. I at this point had figured he'd I figured he wasn't really human, but surviving a headshot really kind of solidified that in my own head. I looked over at the register and saw that it was still very much full of cash,

a never-ending cash register, another perk to working here, I guess. Travis, do be a good boy, and look away, please? King Creole asked me as he closed the distance to Kevin, grabbing the robber by the throat and lifting the lifting him up from the floor. I don't want you to watch this part, he said sweetly, like a mom talking to her son about something. I opened my mouth to ask what was going to happen, but I thought better turning around and looking at the wall behind me.

Kevin, meanwhile, screamed and begged for me to help him. Funny how that works. A couple of minutes ago he was holding me up and now he's screaming at the top of his lungs to help him. Though that didn't last too much longer, since his screaming turned into gurgles and hacking coughs. I did my best to ignore the increasingly wet and nasty slaps and rips coming from behind me. I'm going to be honest, the fear of what he was doing to the robber was a million times scarier than the act of being robbed. All done. The satisfied hum of my boss rang in my ringing ears. I turned and saw the big splatter of blood on the wall and floor where Kevin had been.

Great. No doubt I would have to clean that up. What did you do with him? I asked the old voodoo king. He looked at me with those big black button eyes of his and looked to his arm, which he brought up and showed me. He was holding a controller for a marionette doll, except it was made of bones, small bones that almost looked like some kind of animals. Of course, those thoughts were dispelled when he lifted his arm up further and produced a small, bloody figure attached to the strings of the controller. I'm sure I don't need to spell out who the figure looked like.

I don't appreciate people threatening my employees. He sighed, dropping the bloody figure onto the table and making it dance around, making the counter messy with blood as he did so. I looked up at him, both thankful and pissed off, mostly because I figured I'd have to clean all this up. Thank you, sir. Do you want me to? I started, but was soon interrupted by him when he held his hand up and the little figure mimicked him. Got to hand it to him. He's a great puppeteer. Don't worry about the mess, Travis. He shrugged it off, chuckling as he picked up the figure and held it tightly clenched in his gloves, more blood leaking out of it and dripping onto the counter.

Just get rid of this for me, please. He asked, tossing the gun at me. I fumbled with it, afraid that it was going to go off in my hands. I looked up at him. Noticing that the bullet hole in his forehead had disappeared. I didn't ask about that, though. I simply nodded and went over to the front door and left, walking across the street to a dumpster that is near our shop in the alley.

Tossing it in there after I wiped it down against my pants just in case my fingerprints were in there. I quickly jogged back into the store. More than happy to see, not a speck left where Kevin once was. That was the first time I was held up in this store. The second time came about two days later. I was working later than usual. My shift is usually from 9 a.m. to 3 p.m.

This time I was working from 5 to 9. Not horrible, but we definitely get we're weirder people in the later hours. Weird people that are usually chill with King Creole and the odd person asking for a wish or potion. This time, a fine gentleman came running into the store and hid behind a shelf that covered him from the view of the front door. I watched as he squatted even lower when a car drove past, shining a light into the shop and going along for a moment. The guy looked up for a minute and then over to me.

Hey, do you need anything? Or are you just here to loiter? I asked him. Look, I was tired, man. I was like half an hour away from unpinning my needle from the doll. Mentally, I was checked out already, so when the guy pointed a gun at me, I actually rolled my eyes at him. Again, I thought as I put my hands up. I need a place to hide. The guy said quickly, looking back at the door and rushing over to me. The cops are after me. He said again. And that's when I noticed

the blood on his clothes. I sighed and looked. looked over to King Creole's office, hoping he could handle this. Of course, when I turned back around and saw him right behind this guy, I nearly shat myself. What have we here? He asked, putting his hand onto the other man's shoulder and flipping him around to face him. The man gasped and was quickly disarmed. Need a place to hide, son. What? He said in confusion, but at the mention of high, hiding, he quickly pulled out a switchblade, pointing it up at Creole. Where? I need a quick, man.

He said, looking behind Creole to see if the cops were making another round. Why? Right this way, Sonny. My boss said with a happy tone pulling the nameless man along and towards the basement. Now, seeing that really sent my stomach down into a pit. At this point, I had gotten used to the basement creature, but seeing some unsuspecting person getting led there. I felt bad for the guy. Faster, you freak! They could be here any minute. The man said, flinching at any little creek of the shop. Creole took his sweet time, pulling out the key and opening the basement, opening it up and stepping aside like a grand

unveiling. All yours. He hummed. watching with a wide smile as the man rushed into the dark basement, closing the door behind him and locking it. And that's that. He hummed, looking back to me with that same smile and walking over to me. Uh, what is down there, sir? I asked him, pointing at the basement door. Creole looked me, dead in my eyes. I could tell he wasn't messing around, just by the tone of his voice. None of your business, Travis.

He said in almost an animal like snarl. I swallowed the lump in my throat and backed up a bit, nodding up at him and flinching hard when the door began to be banged on. Let me out. There's something down here. The man screamed, banging harder and harder on the door. Of course, those bangs soon turned. turned into loud screams, as I assume whatever lived in the basement, caught up with him.

King Creole looked back at the basement door and waited for it to stop banging. Soon enough it did, and we heard the sounds of something being dragged down the stairs. I looked at him then. A look of anger was on his pale face, the first time I'd ever seen him like that. That whore gets what she deserved." He mumbled, low enough to where I assume he thought I couldn't hear. But here I did. I didn't say anything, wiping up the counter and unpinning my needle from the doll.

Good night, sir. I said, as I took off my name tag and shoved it into my pocket. My word shook him from his angry spad, and he turned on his heels to look at me. a smile on his face once again. Good night, Travis, my boy. He hummed, turning and walking off back to his office. I nodded and turned to leave myself. I stopped at the door, though, turning back and looking at the basement door.

I looked back over towards King Creole's office, and once I was sure he was in there, I made my way back over to the door. I looked at it, noticing the blood coming from underneath the crack of the door. I knelt and tried to peer through the keyhole. I didn't see anything at first, just the usual blackness of a basement. I sighed and stood to leave until I heard a soft thud come from the door. I turned and raised a brow to that. Leaning down again, I put my eye to the keyhole.

This time I was greeted by a green, shiny, cracked eye. Flinching hard, I backed up and quickly made my way out of the shop, shaking my head quickly, and just getting out of there. I don't know what King Creole has down there, and I don't really want to know either, even if whatever it is keeps begging me to let it out. So by this point, I'm pretty sure you guys have a pretty good grasp on what King Creole. Creole is like as a boss. He's creepy and a murderer by most definition of the law. Right? I mean the button eyes and sewn up mouse should have been a dead giveaway to that.

Well, he has ways of surprising you. Like some pointed out, he defended me during the robbery in the runaway convict situation. That alone sort of tip the scales to him being pretty all right. Well, something happened a few days ago that really changed my perspective on him. It was a lazy Saturday. I was leaning back on my newly upgraded rocking chair. That's right, folks, no more crappy tool. Old buddy boy Travis has a rocking chair now. Anyway, I was rocking on the chair enjoying how good it felt to have back support when the rusty doorbell rang. I looked over at the door and saw nobody there. Odd, but not out of the ordinary in this place. Figured it was some ghost.

or something. Until I heard the sounds of tiny straining and a little hand came up from the other side of the counter. I raised my brow at that and quickly looked to the wall of voodoo dolls. Had one escaped again, I thought to myself. But my train of thought was derailed when a childlike voice pulled my attention back over. Excuse me? The voice asked, innocent and just a little shy. I stood up from my right. rocking chair and looked over the counter to see a little girl standing there by herself. She looked to be about in second or even first grade. Her little hands quickly went behind her back when she looked up at me. Uh, hello, little girl. Are you lost? I asked her, looking

around the shop for any sign of a parental figure. Didn't take me too long, considering how small this place is. I want a wish, she said softly. Looking up at me and giving a soft pout. The kind a kid gives when they expect the answer to be no, but they still want to shoot their shot. Uh, oh, let me get my boss, okay? I said to her. I wasn't exactly trained to handle children, much less one looking to ask for a wish. And having seen my fair share of wishes in this place, I almost wanted to talk her out of it.

What a job is a job, turning to go to Creel's office. I was surprised to see him already leaving it. Ah, Travis, my boy, he said with a hum, pulling on his suit to straighten it out and patting some dust off of it. I need you to watch the shop while I... He began to say, but his button eyes quickly turned to see the little girl standing at the counter, who was too busy looking up at the wall of voodoo dolls. to notice us.

Well, I'll be, he said, in a bewildered voice. Yeah, she came in here asking for a wish. I was just about to come and get you, I explained, looking back over to the mystery girl. She was busy looking wide-eyed at all the dolls available. It was like she'd never seen a toy before. A wish, huh? He asked with a hum. walking over to the little girl and clearing his throat.

Oh, little Miss Olivia, he asked, bending down to his knees to get on her level. The little girl turned around, and to my surprise, didn't flinch at all at King Creole's appearance. In fact, she had stars in her eyes when she saw him. Are you a wish man? She asked quickly and excitedly. Why, I do believe I am." He responded after a chuckle and a smile. This smile was different than the one he usually wore.

His normal smile always gave off an air of creepy judgment, like someone knowing the person they were talking to was inferior, but his smile this time seemed genuine. Can you grant me a wish? The girl named Olivia asked quietly. up to the voodoo man with all the passion a girl at her age could have. Hell, I wanted to grant her a wish just from that. I'm afraid. You're too young, darling.

I can't in good conscience grant you a wish. Creole said sadly, taking off his hat as if in silent apology. You could see Olivia's heartbreak clear on her face. She drooped, like a dying flower. immediately. Her arms behind her back coming to the surface, and that's when I noticed all the bruises on them. Creole saw them as well. His attention turned to it, and he took the girl by the arm, gently lifting her tiny pale and bruised arm up, and looking at her, Who did this to you? He asked softly.

Olivia looked like she was holding back the floodgates, and they finally broke as she started crying and hiccoping, using her free arm to wipe her face as she cried, but she managed to blurt out an answer to Creole. My mommy! As if on cue, the front door slammed open, nearly breaking a shelf near it as a woman came into the shop. I could tell she was Olivia's mother by the resemblance of her to her crying daughter.

Olivia, what in the hell are you doing in this place? She demanded to know, coming over with a look of rage on her face. Wow, wow, calm down there, darling. Little Miss Olivia was simply asking for a wish was all. Creole said, springing up and quickly pushing Olivia behind him. I acted as well, motioning for the girl to come behind me. the counter. She reacted accordingly, coming over to me and hugging my pants leg. She shouldn't have left where I told her to stay. The woman spat in my boss's face. I could

smell the alcohol on her from here. Figures. I'm not paying for whatever she asked for. Olivia, get your ass over here and get in the car. She screamed in my direction. I reached a hand down and patted the girl's head as she shivered violently against me. I assure you, ma'am, you don't have to pay for anything. Creole hummed, holding his hands up defensively against the woman's gabs and accusations. Why, all she asked for was a doll, and I'm mighty inclined to get her one. He hummed, fixing his tie as he walked past the angry mother. He walked over to the wall of voodoo dolls and hummed as he looked up at the wall, pointing his finger out as

as if to try and find the right one and snapping when he found it. Reaching out, he took the correct doll and brushed it off, blowing on it and sending the dust in the mother's face. She began coughing. I smiled at that, seeing my boss stand up for this poor girl. Miss Olivia. He asked her as he walked over and passed the sputtering mother. He once again got down on her level and revealed the doll to her. It was a small one about the size of my forearm. It was dressed in a black Victorian gown and had the hair to match, along with the button eyes of all the dolls we had in the store.

Olivia, pulling herself away from my leg, looked up at the doll with awe, sniffling as she held both her bruised arms out. King Creole carefully gave her the doll and smiled as she looked at it, brushing the doll's hair and quickly giving it a hug. Thank you, she said softly, clinging to the item as she walked away from the counter and to her mother.

That thing better not have any fleas. She hissed, turning and grabbing Olivia's little arms, and yanking her along. Olivia gave one last forlorn look as she was dragged away, the sad, rusty bell jingling as they both left. I looked over to my boss, who was clearly as upset as I was. That scene was more difficult for me than all the bad wishes I've ever seen working here, because of how hopeless it all seemed. As if reading my mind, Creole put his hand on my shoulder, and forced my gaze to look into his button eyes.

She'll be fine, son. I assure you of that. He said, nodding to me and tussling my hair, sighing as he let me go and started back to his office. The thing in the door banging as he walked past it, causing him to freeze in place. He looked to the door with a clenched fist and smashed it against it. Shut up! You are never leaving that place!" He screamed at the door, his mouth wide as he gritted his teeth. A few of the stitches ripped, causing him to cover his mouth and walk over to his office,

slamming the door with a loud slam, leaving me alone with the uneasy feeling of being all alone in the shop. The rest of the day was hard to get through. All I could think about was poor Olivia and her mother. I sighed and sat back in my rocking chair. Not much I could do. I didn't know her last name so I couldn't report her to CPS. So I resigned myself to listen to King Creole, who has never steered me wrong. Only two other customers came in that day, and all they wanted was a wart removal potion and a heart attack potion. Don't ask. As I unpin my pin from the doll on the

counter, I looked over to Creole's office. Walking over to it, I knock three times. Not hearing anything from inside, I opened the door and poked my head in. Seeing Creole at his desk, sewing a doll at his office, obviously lost in whatever thoughts were dancing around in that head of his. Sir, I'm going to head home, I said, breaking his concentration as he lifted his head to look up at me. He looked confused for a second before looking over to the clock on his wall.

and nodding, seemingly realizing what the time was. Right. Yes. See you tomorrow, Travis. He said like a robot. He turned back to the doll he was sewing and said nothing more to me. I nodded and turned to leave, letting the door to his office close behind me. Walking away from his office, I stopped at the basement door, reaching into my pocket

and pulling out that single shard of porcelain. I'd kept all this time. I rubbed my finger over it and looked to the door. Please, let me out. The voice of a woman came from behind the door. No pounding this time, just a soft and desperate voice of a woman. She had a southern accent, but it sounded far away, like if she was talking to me from a hallway. I didn't answer. All I did was place the shard of porcelain at the foot of the door and slowly push it underneath the crack. Turning and leaving for the day, I got home and hugged my mom, just to thank whatever being is out there for giving me loving parents. The next day, I still had Olivia in my mind,

but I mostly resigned myself to just get through another day of work. Walking into the shop, I saw King Creole standing at the counter, an amused look on his pale face. His smile only grew as I got closer. Good morning, sir, I said. The look he gave me caused a sharp chill to go up my spine. Travis, my boy, did you try sneaking this underneath the door? He asked as sweetly as honey. Lifting up the shard of porcelain I had tried to sneak under the door.

I audibly swallowed and nodded. I was just trying to, I don't know, I thought. I stammered, trying to give him the reasoning behind my apparent crime. Travis, Travis, Travis, he said, walking out from behind the counter and walking close to me, he grabbed me by the collar and pulled me close to him, his smile turning into a scowl that turned my blood into ice. Don't ever give her anything. Am I understood? He growled, his yellow teeth sharpening as he spoke.

I quickly nodded, shivering as hard as a human could. Yes, sir, I promise. I stuttered out, breathing hard once he released me. His smile returning and his teeth going back to normal. Wonderful. Now you better clock in. I'm expecting a very fine appointment today. He hummed spinning around on his heels and walking to his office, letting the door close behind him. Huffing hard, I walked to my rocking chair and sat down myself, stabbing the doll in the head and rubbing my face hard. Last time I would ever try to even look at that

basement door if that's how he reacted to my just returning. something to it. Pulling my phone out, I used it to get my mind off what had just happened. Maybe an hour or two into my shift, my phone usage was interrupted by the front door flying open. The rusty bell nearly flew off from its place as the door swung open and shut afterward. I looked up and dropped my phone when I saw it was Olivia's mom, although she looked a little paler.

Her skin looked like creole skin. What the hell did you give to her? She shouted as she stumbled to the counter, hacking and coughing violently. She collapsed onto her knees just near me, and she looked up, sending me flying back farther from my chair. She had one eye dangling from its socket, and the other one looked like it was made of milk chocolate and starting to melt. She clawed her nails into the counter and pulled herself up, feeling around and grabbing my arm,

pulling me close to her. I—I don't know, man. I just work here. Was all I could offer the woman, trying to get away from her as her one eye fell out, with a gross sounding plop. She recoiled and stumbled backward, gasping and coughing, white puffy stuff coming out of her mouth and falling to the floor. I knew what it was instantly.

It was doll, stuffing. Goodness, you're early. Creole's cheery voice came. I turned to see he was standing in his office door. He strode his way over to the woman and grabbed her by the hair, pulling it upward so he could look into her eye sockets. Now, dear, we can't have you losing your stuffing. He chuckled. producing some thread and a needle.

What the hell did you do to me? She shouted, shoving him away and trying to stumble away herself, only for her leg to buckle underneath her like an accordion. Humans aren't meant to bend that way if you didn't know. Dear May, you're changing much faster than I thought you would. Creole chuckled, grabbing the woman again and yanking her up. I was in shock at all this, by this point. The woman's skin looked like one of the dolls we sell.

That's when it clicked for me, she was definitely turning into a doll. Sir? I spoke up, flinching when Creole slammed the woman onto my counter and started sewing her mouth shut, despite the woman's thrashing and quickly impinging appendages. He looked over to me, with a quizzical look and smile. Be a good boy and hold her down, Travis. He said, continuing to sew her mouth up as he spoke. I looked to her and swallowed as I walked forward and quickly gripped her arms, already

feeling that there was not an ounce of bone left in them. All I could feel was doll stuffing. I closed my eyes as I held her down. I'm not proud of this moment. When he was finished and finally allowed me to let go, King Creole gave her the finishing touches, sewing buttons into her empty eye sockets and smiling as he wiped his gloved hands clean. Her present is all done.

Just got to wait for her to shrink? He chuckled, looking at me with an excited smile. I gave him a confused look, my eyes wandering down to the body. It was dead still. and looking very much like she belonged in the morgue. The more I look, though, the more I realized that she was shrinking, inch by inch. Well, at least I know where some of the voodoo dolls come from now. I was left in charge of the doll while I waited for this mystery guest of his.

I already had an inkling who it was for, but with King Creole, you never know what to expect. I sat and watched as this fully grown woman shrunk down to the size of a child, then a toddler, then to the size of my forearm, and she was a doll, through and through. I lifted her up and looked at her, waggled her around, and finally left her on the counter. When the door opened again, the first thing I saw was a woman in a Victorian-style dress coming close to me. She looked at me with a warm and motherly smile. Good day, shopkeep.

I do believe my daughter would like to speak with you. She said. I looked at her. My jaw hitting the floor. She was the doll, the doll that King Creole had given Olivia. As if to reinforce this point, a tiny hand came up to pull on the big black dress. The woman looked down. and smiled, leaning down and lifting up the thing the tiny arm was attached to.

Where's Mr. King Creole? Olivia asked with her big old happy eyes. I looked at her, and then at this woman who just yesterday had been a doll. Looking back at Olivia, I opened my mouth to say something, but I was quickly cut off by Creel's office door opening and the voodoo man smiling so much I thought he'd bust a stitch. My darling, Olivia, how are you? He asked this like Olivia was a friend he hadn't seen in forever.

At his voice, Olivia smiled as wide as him, and the woman put her down, letting her run up to my boss and give his legs a hug. Thank you so much for my new mommy, she said, nuzzling her face into him. He chuckled and knelt down. a bit, patting her head and motioning me to come over. I took the doll off the counter and walked over, getting on my knees with an old man grunt and handing the doll to Olivia. She gasped and happily accepted it, wrapping her little arms around it and thanking Creole a million times.

When all was said and done, Olivia said her goodbyes, and her new mother took her by the hand and let her out the door. This new mother turning around and waving goodbye to us and over to the voodoo dolls. Who all waved back? I do love happy Indians. Creole sighed, taking his hat off and rubbing his messy black hair, turning to me and raising a brow to my obvious uncomfortableness over the whole situation. Don't worry, son. She's in the best possible hands, he said, putting a hand on my shoulder. Sir, how come he didn't hurt her? I asked, going back to all the times he'd caused horrible things to happen to anyone seemingly needing his help. He looked at me, like I'd spoken Chinese

at him. Son, my mama always said, help those that truly need it. Can you stand there and tell me, She didn't need our help." He asked, patting my shoulder and heading over to his office, leaving me with that train of thought for the rest of the day, as I washed away all the blood left over from the old mother. King Creole is a strange man. He went from wanting to kill me for going near the basement door to hugging a child that he'd saved from an abusive mother.

I still deal with the back and forth of his personality. I don't think I'll ever understand him. And I don't ever expect to. All I want to know is what is in the basement that causes him so much rage? You know, the more I work here at Old King Creole's half-price voodoo shop, the more I start to question how the hell I never noticed it before. Now I'm ready to admit I'm no Einstein when it comes to this town. Sure I've lived here my whole life, but even then I'm still discovering new places.

I didn't even know we had a Denny's near us until last week. But the fact that so many of our customers are high school kids makes me wonder how come I've never heard of this place before. Then I look back at my track record of socializing in school and remember, oh yeah, that's why I never learned of this place. I think the reason I have to clean up so many messes here is that a majority of our customers are indeed stupid high school kids. They barge in here thinking they've got a way around King Creole's game.

And every single time, I'm the poor idiot that has to clean up their stupid mess. It's to the point where any time I see a teenager come into the shop, I instinctively reach behind the counter for some rubber gloves. I know I'll have to wipe what's left of them off the floor and walls. I think the worst case of this was when a group of four kids walked in. They were seniors and I'm pretty sure they were about to graduate. They came into the shop while I was busy actually getting to stock something for once. We just had someone come in and buy a decent amount of voodoo dolls so I was finally allowed

to stock them. my old stool, I managed to put them all in place when the bell rang and this group of kids came in. It was three girls and a guy who had his arm around the blonde girl, a couple, I assumed. The other two girls seemed to have just tagged along for this ill-fated journey to my place of employment. The guy looked over to me and shot me that head movement all us guys make to each other. You know the one. Hey guys, I said, getting off my stool, and heading to the counter, sitting on my rocking chair and making sure all my cleaning supplies were in view.

What can I do you for? I asked, realizing I was picking up some of Creole's fancy southern talk. We heard there were wishes here, and since we're about to graduate, we figure why not try them out? The guy said, letting his girlfriend go and going over to the shelf of voodoo dolls, getting in real close and looking at them all. The girls, meanwhile, didn't wander too far from him since they were no doubt afraid of all the cobwebs around.

Fair enough. Yep. Do y'all want one? I asked, dreading the answer I expected. The guy and his girlfriend nodded, while only one of the other girls, a black-haired girl in a blouse, responded as well with a nod. The last girl in her hoodie, though. She just shook her head.

she got dragged here. Travis, my dear boy, seems you've brought in quite the bit of customers." Creole hummed. Walking over to me from seemingly nowhere, he does that a lot and smiling at the group of students, all of whom instantly backed up a couple of feet in shock at my boss's appearance. Wow, freaky costume, man. The guy said chuckling, trying to keep up a couple of feet, in shock at my boss's appearance. Wow, freaky costume, man. The guy said chuckling, trying to keep up a brave face in front of his girl, but I could tell he was seconds from pissing himself. All the girls had the same expression. What can I do for you, Jacob? The boss man asked, looking at me.

I was wondering why until I realized my rocking chair was taking up space he needed to get to the counter, so I just easily backed up a bit and let him do his thing. I pulled out my phone for a second, which had a dead battery, and instead, and instead of Instead, I decided to watch the inevitable horror that was about to come my way. Man, you're freaky as hell. Jacob chuckled nervously, clearing his throat and coming forward with as much moxie as he could muster. Okay.

I wish to get into my dream college. Full ride. So I don't have to pay for anything. He declared, confidently crossing his arms at King Crean. Creole. Had to hand it to him. That was a pretty airtight wish. I couldn't think of really any way for Creole to mess with that wish. Well, until his girlfriend spoke up.

What the hell, Jacob? The girlfriend shouted, coming over to Jacob and pounding him with her fist over and over again. You're trying to find a way to leave me, aren't you? She shouted, grabbing him and thrashing him around. She seemed the clingy type. No, you crazy bitch, I'm trying to secure my future. He shouted, shoving her away and rolling his eyes as if this had been an ongoing issue.

Me and Creole looked at each other and just shrugged. Wasn't our business to give these two couples therapy. Suddenly the girl pushed past her boyfriend and up to the counter, slamming her fist down on the dusty countertop and staring up with wide eyes. To King Creole. I wish that Jacob will never leave my side. She shouted, causing Jacob to come over and grab her, pulling her away from us. Well, the king began, bringing a hand up and starting to rub his chin.

My mama taught me that ladies should go first. He smiled, shrugging, and snapping his feet. fingers, causing Jacob to stop in his tracks as he stopped thrashing around with his girlfriend. He looked at her with a new look in his eyes and started to kiss her. Now that's more like it, she giggled, wrapping her arms around him and making out in the shop. I rolled my eyes at this. Yes, I am horribly single, leave me alone. Although what happened next kind of helps me feel better about being single. She suddenly shouted in pain, trying to shove him off her.

It was for good reason, since he had gotten a thread and needle and was starting to stick it into both of their skins. I need to be closer to you. He shouted in a crazed tone, starting to pick up speed as she screamed louder trying to get away from him. Well, that went about as well as I expected it to go. He managed to pin her to the floor as he started to see. So the two of them together. The two other girls were screaming and cowering together as they

watched the scene. Since Jacob appears to be preoccupied, Creole said with a chuckle, turning his attention to the two remaining girls. Would you ladies like to try your luck? He said with a smile, his fingers drumming on the counter as he waited. The black-haired girl quickly looked at the hoodie girl and shoved her away, backing up from everything and looking back at the door. I wish that I could live the rest of my life never seeing you again, she shouted, backing up and getting to the door. Creole shrugged and nodded to her, if that's what you wish for, he said, looking back at her and motioning for her to shoe with his hands.

The girl nodded and turned, opening the door and running out at full She didn't see the car that hit her seconds afterward. I flinched. It just how sudden it happened. Like she was out of the shop and dead in a good ten seconds. The last girl remaining was screaming her head off as she saw the girl hit by the car. And let's just say that Jacob and his girlfriend were closer than they were ever going to be. He and she were sewn together nice and tight and bleating. and bleeding everywhere. Please don't kill me."

The girl mumbled, collapsing to the floor and shivering, shaking her head and pulling her hoodie down, revealing some long red hair. Looking over at her, I did feel pretty bad. She seemed like the one who had been dragged here unwillingly by her friends. Is that a wish, darling? My boss asked, stepping away from the counter and over to the sewn up with her friends. bodies wriggling on the floor. She answered, with a fast shake of her head. Then what is your wish? He asked, poking at the sewn-together couple with his finger,

showing some amusement from it. I don't want anything, she mumbled, curling up into the fetal position, shaking violently and looking at me like I was going to come in and save her. Well, I get paid by this man, so I can't really offer much help. Shame. If that's the case, then please leave my shop. I don't take kindly to loiterers. He said the front door swinging open. The girl looked up quickly and then to the two of us, cautiously standing up and walking

out of the shop, making sure to keep on the sidewalk as she started running away. Want me to clean up, sir?" I asked Creole after an awkward silence. Looking over to me, he smiled and chuckled. If you wouldn't mind, son. He answered. Looking at the sown couple and then over to the basement door, I could tell from his face he was trying to figure out a way of getting them down there.

I meanwhile was already getting the mop ready. Do you need help moving them?" I asked him as I sat the bucket down and started filling it with bleach and soap, a decent enough way to hide the blood, but if the cops ever shine that stuff that shows hidden blood splatters, this place would look like a cheap motel room. Hmm, I might, he said, looking back over to the basement with a sneer. All right, help me get them to the door and leave them there. I'll head down there, and he can just roll them down it when I see them.

say it's all right." He nodded at me. Not having much of a choice since I offered to help, I helped him pick them up and carry them close to the door. The girl gurgling something incoherent at me since hers and Jacob's mouse had been sewn together. I assume it was a plea for help. Once they were down at the foot of the door, Creole unlocked it and opened it.

I peeked from behind his shoulder to see if I could get a look. But nothing but blackness stared back at me. All right. Looks like we can just kick them down there. Creole hummed, placing his dress shoe on the wriggling mass and shoving it down the stairs. The wet, smacking and rolling were heard for a good, solid, 30 seconds. We waited. The door still open.

Then we heard rapid crawling coming towards us. Before I could see the mysterious basement. creature, Creole slammed the door closed and locked it tight. Well, I said after a decent amount of silence, I'll start cleaning. I said, backing away from Creole and heading back to my mop and bucket, starting to wipe away all the evidence of our latest crime. I looked back at the basement and King Creole was still standing there. He was looking at the basement with his usual anger before wordlessly, just walking back over to his office. I let him go, continuing to do the part of the job I hated

most. While I was busy mopping, contemplating if I really should have gone into college, the door opened up, and I heard the familiar words of hands in the air. I raised my hands up quickly, my mop hitting the floor, and I turned to look at who was holding me up this time. Turned out, It was a cop. Shit. My arm straightened up quicker when I saw it was a cop this time and not some idiot trying to rob us. Those thoughts of college were really starting to seem much more appealing.

Turn around and step away from the mop and bucket. He ordered me. I did as I was told, heading over to the back wall. The cop closed the distance and slammed me against the wall, slapping some cuffs on me and throwing me to the ground. He put his gun in my back. Where's your boss? He asked me, grabbing my head up so I could answer him.

Uh, office. Over there. I motioned towards his office. With that, the officer let my head go, which slammed down into the wooden floor, giving me a good size bruise on my forehead. I rolled over to see what was going to happen. This was the first time I'd ever had to run in with the cops in this place. You, in there, come out with your hands up."

The officer shouted, gun trained on the door and waiting for anyone to comply with that order. I meanwhile strained to try and see what was going to happen, when suddenly my arms went limp, and I was free from the cuffs. Pulling my hands out, I looked down to see the voodoo doll template, holding them. Turns out that thing doesn't hate me so much after all. Opening the door, Creole stared at the gun in his face and then over to the officer. His stitched mouth in a smile as he looked at the man. Rookie, your sergeant should have told you, you're not allowed in here.

He sighed, looking past him to look at me on the floor. An assault in my employee. Shame on you. The voodoo man sighed, suddenly getting grabbed by the officer. and tossed onto the floor quickly. Keep your mouth shut. What did you do with the body? He shouted, putting his foot on Creole's back.

I felt afraid for the officer. Handling King Creole like that, in his own shop, would not end well. And end well, it did not. The second his foot was put on King Creole's back, every single voodoo doll on the wall came to life, staring. at the officer and jumping off their places on the wall, hissing and screeching at him as they all rushed towards him. The officer looked at the sound of the noise and let out a shout as he tried shooting them. He got two shots off before they swarmed him. The best way

I can describe what they did to him was piranhas eating a cow in the Amazon. They swarmed over him, ripping chunks of flesh. off his body. I never can't stand. Rude idiots. Creole hissed, angrily standing up and dusting himself off, walking over the rapidly disintegrating cop body and coming over to me. He offered me a hand and pulled me back up.

I'm sorry you had to see that. He sighed, dusting me off. His attention then turned towards the squad car waiting outside. button eyes staring at the car as he made his way over to the door, stepping outside the shop for the first time since I started working here. I looked over at what was left of the officer, a bloody uniform, and nothing else. In the split second I wasn't paying attention, all the voodoo dolls had returned to the wall and now had some accessories with them, some bones and skin pieces. My little template friend was back on the counter, still given me the stink

guy for probably not cleaning up. I was going to until a girl's scream caught my attention. Creole was dragging that redhead back into the shop. She was trying with all her might to keep from being dragged away, her nails clawing at the wooden floor and spreading blood everywhere once her nails had been broken and destroyed. She cried and begged not to be hurt as she was dragged towards the basement door. This will show you not to misplace my good graces. Creole shouted, grabbing her by the hair when she caught the side of the counter and gripped it with all her might. He dragged her away by her hair and got to the basement door,

opening it and dragging the red head down into the depths. Creole didn't need to tell me to shut the door behind him. I went back to cleaning the bloody mess that was left behind, stuffing the officer's uniform into a trash bag and setting that aside as I mopped up every piece of blood I could see. I've gotten surprisingly good at this. Something about that girl's demise, though, didn't sit right with me. Out of everything he's done to people, Kurz was the one that rubbed me the wrong way the most. Not like I can do anything about it. Cops are clearly out of the question.

Looking over to the basement door, I sighed as I sat back in my rocking chair when all the cleaning was done, my eyes closing in exhaustion. I didn't get much time to rest, for Creole returned after nearly an hour and a half. blood on his suit and pale face. I swallowed hard as he came over to me, staring at me with those blood-spattered button eyes. Travis, my boy, you've been so helpful these past few months that I think a raise is in order. He smiled, his yellow teeth back to being sharp fangs. How about? Thirty an hour. He hummed, tilting his head. at me. I looked back at him with a bewildered look, quickly nodding without thinking. He smiled

and rustled my messy brown hair and pulled out my pay for the week. Take tomorrow off. He ordered when I took my pay. I looked up at him and nodded quickly. No way in hell I was going to question him. Packing up, I unstucked my pin and took the officer's uniform in the trash bag and threw it away. I made my way home and sighed hard, rubbing my face as I thought about that poor girl, being dragged into whatever hell awaited her down in that basement. Ever since the Redhead incident, I was wary of going back to work. I've never really cared about the people who get what they asked for whenever they don't think a wish through. But she wasn't there for a wish. She didn't want anything. She didn't want anything. She didn't

She was just there. Yeah, she brought a cop to the shop, but if I was her I'd do the same thing. Whatever happened to her down in the basement, she didn't deserve it. My day off was spent mostly in my room, sulking, just wrapped up in blankets and contemplating the many horrible things I had done for King Creole when my mom came in and knocked on my door. Travis, a couple of police officers are here looking for you. What the hell did you do? She asked in a confused and scared tone at the same time.

As far as I know, she thinks I'm selling crack for all the money that I'm getting. I swallowed as I tossed my blankets away and made my way past her and down to the lobby of our house. Two officers were standing there and looking at me. Travis, can we please talk to you outside? The older man said, brushing his graying hair back and placing his hat back on. I nodded wordlessly and looked back at my parents who were staring at me from the kitchen as I was led outside into the cold autumn afternoon.

I put my hands in my hoodie pocket and looked up at the officers, my face betraying that I was nervous as hell. Is this about King Creole? I asked after a prolonged silence. My eyes widened when the officers nodded. They looked around quickly before the older one took his hat off again and looked me dead in the eyes. Tell him that we're sorry for the trouble that one of the rookies caused him. We didn't have time to radio him and tell him to wait for backup. The man said in a quick nervous tone, my jaw fell to the floor, just how desperately this

cop was apologizing to me. I can tell him tomorrow when I go back to work. I offered the man who breathed a long, hard sigh of relief and nodded quickly, taking a notepad out and a pencil. Tell him the agreement with the department still stands and that we're terribly sorry about what happened. He said, scribbling something on his notepad and ripping it out, handing it to me, I looked down at the note, which was basically just what he had told me, but in written form.

I guess in case King Creole didn't believe me. Yeah, okay. I nodded, putting the page in my hoodie pocket and shaking both of their hands, then wordlessly walking back into my house and walking past my parents who bombarded me with questions. I didn't answer them, just went to my room and collapsed back on the top of my bed. I pulled the covers back over myself and resigned to dealing with all of this some or other day. Making my way back to work the next day, I sighed as I entered the familiar dusty shop.

Walking over to the counter and sticking my needle back into the template, I looked back at the basement door, which was eerily silent. I shook my head and reached into my pocket, walking over to Creel's office and knocking three times. I stood back a bit and waited for the boss man. He didn't leave me waiting for two weeks. He didn't leave me waiting for two of his pocket, but he was Too long as he soon opened the door and smiled a big and wide smile when he saw it was me. Travis, how was your day off? I missed you, boy.

He chuckled, coming fully out of his office and giving me a hug, which I half-heartedly gave back. It was fine, sir. Um, the police came and told me to give you this. I said, reaching into my pocket and handing him the handwritten note. He looked at it quizzically and took it from me, looking down with his button eyes and that smile on his face growing wide enough to strain the stitches on his mouth. Oh, marvelous.

I was beginning to think they'd forgotten about little old me. He chuckled, sticking the note into his suit and smiling at me. I do apologize again for you being roughed up as badly as you were, Travis. He said, putting a hand around me and leading me back to my counter. It's fine, sir. It didn't hurt that badly. I said, rubbing the bruise on my forehead a bit. It only stung if I touched it, really.

Lucky for me my hair is long enough that I can hide it behind my bangs, pays to never get a haircut sometimes. Good. Good. I do enjoy your company in the shop. Even your little friend was missing you. He chuckled. tapping the template doll on its head. I looked at it, and for once it wasn't given me a stink

eye. Glad I'm not such an ass to it after all. Keep up the good work, son." Creole said, giving me a firm pat on the back and leaving me to run the front end once again. Doing my usual ringing up of the odd customer, I was soon enough met with something that did make my day a little better. Olivia, usually, I eventually came back to the shop every Saturday with her new mother, so it's always a little ray of sunshine to see her so happy. My doll broke, she said with a sad little pout, holding up the doll of what used to be her mom and showing that the arm had indeed come off.

Can Mr. King Creole fix it? She asked sadly, like this was the absolute end of the world. I looked up at her new mother who looked at me with this blank gate. Well, I thought then it was blank. Now I think it was one of worry and pity. I didn't even have to go get Creole when he threw open the door to his office and came over to Olivia, who ran to him and gave him a hug like he was her long-lost father. He smiled and giggled with her as he took her doll in her hand and led her to his office.

Are you aware of what awaits her? You? Olivia's new mother asked out of the blue, in a soft tone. I looked at her with a confused look. What do you mean? I asked her, sitting up in my rocking chair and looking at the voodoo template, taking it off the counter and placing it on the floor, looking back at her for more information. She looked to the wall of voodoo dolls behind her and leaned in close to me.

He's using you. You need to get out of here before it's too late." She said, in a soft begging tone, she grabbed me by my hoodie strings and pulled me closer. Get away! She begged, quickly letting go of me and doing a full 180 of emotions, a big happy smile on her face as Olivia came back with her doll all fixed up. Be more careful with her, darling. She's fragile. He instructed, giving Olivia a pat on her head and handing her back off to her new mother. Olivia nodded up to the voodoo man and took her mother's hand

as she was led out of the store. Her mother looked back at me, and a sad look came to her face. After they were gone, I turned to King Creole and mustered all the non-existent strength I had. Sir, why did you hire me? I asked him, quickly placing the template back on the counter and putting my hands on the dusty surface. The question seemingly caught him off guard as he looked at me like I'd spoken to him in an alien language. He stared at me with those button eyes for a good long time, long enough for me to grow uncomfortable. The same look he gave me.

I asked him about the basement. I just needed an extra hand, was all he said. Oh, okay. I nodded quickly, sinking away from his piercing gaze. It felt like every button eye was looking at me in the shop. It was a lifesaver when the front door opened and a customer walked in. Creole instantly turned into his usual happy self and happily granted the person's wish of curing their cancer. Shame about the heart attack they had right afterward. As Creel took hold of the dead body, he dragged it towards the basement and opened the door behind him, grunting as he tried to get a better grip on the cadaver. I was about to offer help to him when a white arm jutted from the darkness of the open basement and wrapped around his neck.

You sneaky whore! He shouted, slipping on the first step of the basement and tumbling backward into the darkness. I watched the whole thing in abject horror. The arm that had grabbed my boss was one of porcelain. I could tell this because of all the shards of it that had fallen off when the two of them went tumbling down. Standing up quickly, I looked down into the basement. An entire pile of porcelain shards waiting for me at the entrance of the door. Sir, I shouted down into the dark depths. Do you need any help?

I didn't hear anything from him, and I looked down into the darkness. Swallowing the bile building in my throat, I pulled my phone out and turned on the flashlight, clenching my fist as I took my first step into the basement. It took me a whole thirty seconds to take my second step, just out of fear. for whatever was going to come towards me in the darkness. Sir, I shouted into the darkness again, taking a few more liberal steps before I froze. I shone my flashlight down the steps, and I heard a fast scurrying ahead of me. Oh, screw this! I shouted quickly, turning and booking it upstairs.

I managed to get up there and put my hand on the door, flashlight still shining down into the dark. What met me was a woman. Body made completely out of porcelain crawling up the stairs at mock speeds toward me. She wore a dirty and tattered white dress, and she was missing one of her eyes. I didn't let her get far as I quickly slammed the door in her face and pushed my full weight up against it. Let me out! She screamed, smashing her hands against the door, cracking porcelain, heard as she smashed and beat against it. Before he wakes up, please, she screamed, confirming to me that she'd subdued my boss.

I closed my eyes and just kept my full weight against the door as she kept on banging. I can't. I have no choice, I said back, just keeping my eyes closed as she banged and pounded with futility. I didn't know who this creature was, and I didn't want to. to know what was going to stop me from ending up like her. So I just kept against the door until she suddenly fell silent. And then a familiar voice came from behind the door. Open the door, Travis.

Came the haggard and tired voice of my boss. I cautiously looked at the door and backed away from it. The knob turning and the figure of my boss coming out and slamming it shut. locking it with the key and pounding his fist into it. Are you okay, sir? I asked him, backing up to give him his space. He looked back at me. The stitches to his mouth torn open as he covered it with his hand. Notting to me, he pointed to something behind me.

Looking, I saw the template was holding a spool of thread and needle. to him, I walked over and gave it to him. He lifted his hand up and quickly started to sew up his mouth. A thick black liquid was dripping from it as he sewed himself back up with expert precision, finishing it up in under 30 seconds flat. I'm fine, son. She just got the drop on me. He growled, tossing the spool back at me and working his lower jaw. He then turned his lower jaw. He then turned his attention back to me and grabbed me by the throat, shoving me into the wall and giving me a firm squeeze of my throat.

I told you never go down there. He snarled at me. I was worried about you. I choked out, trying to pull him off of me, gagging and looking pleadingly at him. He gritted his teeth and dropped me, causing me to gag and draw him. choke for air as he walked away. I looked up as he silently walked to his office and slammed the door behind him. Pulling myself up into my rocking chair, I breathe hard just trying to get my bearing. It took a good hour for me to finally pull my phone out and shakily look at it. What could

I possibly do? The police obviously wouldn't help me if they came to me to apologize for them coming here. I had no one to answer anything for me. Except, I looked back at the basement door and walked over to it, stepping over the still-dead customer. I'm sorry. I just, I'm afraid of him. Do you know anything about him? Is there some way to stop him? I asked into the keyhole. I waited to see if the porcelain woman was still there. I kept waiting, and I was about to give up, when a soft voice came back to me. Charles? She whispered softly.

Charles Sumner. Was all she whispered. Going silent again and not responding. I nodded a silent thanks to her and went to my counter, pulling up. my phone and starting my research. Well, it turned out that the only thing I knew about Charles Sumner was that guy that got beat with a cane in the Senate before the Civil War, so I don't think the internet is going to help me there.

I worked the rest of my shift and left without a word to King Creole. But instead of heading straight home, I went somewhere I hadn't been in years. The library. A wealth of knowledge. And the only place I could think that would have anything on my boss. Getting to the reference section, I poured into everything and anything I could. Looking at the newspaper section, the headlines, deaths, famous people from my town, anything about Charles Sumner.

And then, about an hour before they were about to close, I got a hit. Charles Sumner, 1900 to 1925. He was a pretty famous pianist back in the day, and was even part of a band called the Sumner Orchestra. Other than that, I didn't get too much about him, but it did lead me down a rabbit hole when I saw the only picture of him in the reference book. It was clearly my boss, King Creole, in the flesh. No button eyes. No stitches. Nothing. He was no doubt human in this picture. That was surprising. But what surprised me most was the woman standing next to him in the picture, because that was the porcelain woman. She was famous enough to have a caption along with our boy Charles, Mary Simmons,

a well-loved singer in the band. And according to the book, Charles's fiancé, I dropped the book when I saw that and stared in disbelief. She was his fiancé. What could she have done to deserve what she was getting? I needed to know more. Then... All of the lights in the library cut out. I looked up quickly, grabbing my phone and turning the flashlight on.

I clung to it tightly as I looked around quickly. I looked back at the book. And, sorry about this library, ripped the photo out of it, stuffing it into my hoodie and making a break for it, until I found myself falling flat on my face. Looking down, my eyes went wide as I saw a couple of voodoo dolls at my feet, having tied my laces together while I was in the darkness. Oh, give me a break! I shouted, kicking them and quickly ditching my shoes as I made a run for it again.

Getting to the front doors, I pulled on them, to no avail. I was locked in. Why couldn't the internet have had this information? Now I was going to die in my least favored place in this stupid town, and that was saying something. Looking around, I had to find a way to escape. I had the idea to head to the fire escape. Looking around, I soon made it to the nearest door and reached out to open it, only

for my arm to go completely limp. I raised a brow before I lost control entirely of my body. I hit the floor with a grunt and looked around in terror as I couldn't move. A million questions were soon answered when a familiar voice came up behind me. You should have left well enough alone, Travis. Creole berated me from the darkness. The lights coming back on and revealing him standing right next to me. He was holding a voodoo doll that looked exactly like me. He held it in a firm grip, a needle held right up to the doll's neck. I swallowed hard and looked up at him. I just wanted to know more about you, I shouted, the fear in my voice

obvious. But he held a hand up to his mouth to hush me as he knelt down with a doll in his hand. And use your inside voice, Travis. We're in a library. He chuckled, grabbing me by my hair and pulling me up by it. You want to learn more about me, huh? Want to know about what that horror did to me? He asked, his teeth growing sharp as he talked. He reached into my pocket and pulled out the page I'd ripped from the book. He looked down at it with disgust at first. but also a sense of sadness. Please, don't kill me.

I whimpered, shivering, and trying to gain any kind of control back over my body. He looked at me, and then at the paper, tossing it back and giggling like a little child. I'm not going to kill you, son. I need you for things. He said, grabbing me by the hair and pulling my head up to meet his button eyes. But after this little stunt you pulled, it looks like I'll have to put things in motion. He sighed, pulling me up to my feet and tossing the doll of me up and down. What do you mean?

I asked him, again getting shushed by him. He patted my head and whispered something into the doll's ear. I suddenly got drowsy and struggled to keep myself standing, looking at Creole, and then finally passing out. I woke up this morning and gasped, looking around quickly to see where the hell I was. I was in my room. Had I dreamed of all that? The picture of Charles and Mary, however, was still in my hoodie pocket, and that quickly dispelled any idea of a nightmare. I got up and went to the bathroom next to my room and screamed, because looking at the at my reflection in the mirror were two big black buttons, where my eyes should have been.

Keeping the door closed on my parents, as they attempted to learn why I screamed, I finally convinced them I had seen a giant spider and killed it. When I finally heard their footsteps walk away from the back-throom door, I took another look at myself in the mirror. There was no doubt that my eyes were replaced by buttons. I couldn't blink. Not that I really needed to. And I could see much better than I could before. This would have been nice if my eyes weren't buttons. I was stuck. I had to learn more about Creole and learn how to defeat him before I turned into whatever the hell I was about to turn into.

I thought about trying to find Olivia's new mother. Unfortunately for me, I had no clue where she lived. I pulled on my hair trying to figure out where she could live when I had an idea. All of the items that were on her original mother's body were sitting behind the counter at work. This included a cell phone and her wallet where her ID would be. Great. Back into the lion's den. Suiting up in my hoodie, I ran past my parents shouting that I was late for work and booked it outside. I hope I'll see them again. Making my way to the shop, I gathered all the courage I could and walked into it.

I was immediately confused when I saw nobody there. The office door was closed and the basement door was locked shut as usual. Well, at least this part would be easy. Walking over to the counter, I fished around in the container of people's things and soon found what I was looking for. Sophie. I said aloud, looking at the ID of Olivia's old mother. It contained her address, and it was within walking distance of here. Stuffing the ID in my pocket, I quickly turned to leave and walked right into Creole standing behind me. You do look very distinguished with buttons.

He cooed, grabbing my face with his hands and pushing the hood off my head. Looking up at him, I shivered as he stared at me with a happy expression. You're looking quite pale these days. Are you sick, Travis? He asked with fake concern plastered all over that pale face of his. Looking down at my hand, I saw that it was quickly becoming the shade of white he was. What the hell are you doing to me? I shouted at him, pounding on my chest and finally shoving him off my face. I backed up from him and started to head for the front door.

I need a store, clerk. You answered the advertisement, Travis. He said with a chuckle, picking up the voodoo doll of me from the counter. He pulled a needle from his pocket and held it back up to the doll's neck. I froze and looked at him with gritted teeth. Looking behind him, I feigned concern, making it look like Mary had broken free from the basement. He fell for it and looked back at the basement door. He did so long enough for me to Chuck Sophie's cell phone which I'd kept right into his head, knocking

his hat off and staggering him for a bit. Turning, I quickly fled out of the shop and started booking it towards the direction of Olivia's house. I was hoping that the voodoo doll had a limited range on me, and luckily I think it did. As nothing happened to me and I was, nothing happened to me as I ran to the neighborhood. I was panting and out of breath, and I looked around to try and find the correct house. Soon enough, I managed to find it and stumbled my way to the door. I knocked on it. You work with Mr. King Creole. Olivia gasped when she opened the door for me. A look of confusion on her face when she saw me with button eyes and pale skin.

Can I get button eyes too? I need to talk to your mom. I said through exhausted panting. No wonder I'd almost failed PE all those times in high school. She nodded and let me into the house. I looked around and saw that every single picture in the house was of Olivia and her new mother. Not a single one of Sophie existed. Damn, he's good.

Oh, dear God, came the soft and concerned voice of Olivia's new mother. I looked up at her, grabbing her by the collar of her poofy black dress and shaking her, the desperation clear on my face. Help me. How do I stop this? I screamed, begging the woman to help me in any way she could. I didn't want to end up like Sophie or all those other people that Creole had killed. I know his real name, and I know who's trapped in the basement.

Please, tell me how to save myself. how to save myself. I shouted again. I, I do not know. If I speak ill of him, I may. She looked over to Olivia, who was playing in the living room, oblivious to us and in her own little world. She turned back to me and bid her lips. Go to this address, she said quickly, pulling out a notepad and scribbling on it. Please tell me it isn't that far. I begged, having to run here, had really wiped me out. It is, I'm afraid, but it is the only place that may help you, she said, tearing off the sheet

of paper and handing it to me. I looked down in it and raised my brow. Isn't this right near the shop? Won't he know? I asked her, wondering if she was sending me on a suicide mission. she shook her head and kept her hands together around the not-pad. He does not go there anymore. You should be safe, she said.

And then her face twisted into fear as she covered her mouth with her hands. The notepad fell to the floor as she backed away from me. I shivered as she did so, scared at what she could have seen. Why are you blushing, mister? Olivia asked me, her attention now on me in tilting her head in confusion. Was I blushing? I didn't feel hot enough for that. I pulled my phone out and looked at myself in the camera.

And my heart sank in an instant. My cheeks were painted red like a puppet. I turned and ran out of the house, adrenaline up and completely in panic mode. He was turning me into a puppet. it and if I didn't stop him soon it was going to be over for me quickly. I had to find out more about him and maybe find a way to stop this in the process. Slowing down after a while, I made my way back towards the shop, but instead of making my usual left turn towards it, I continued forward and ended up at a decrepit old building, just

like the voodoo shop. They really need to fix up this part of town. The faded old letter, read out library, only I had never seen or heard of this one before. Although considering how it looked, I could kind of see why. Sying and walking in with my head held high, I walked up to the doors and found them completely sealed behind wooden boards. Luckily enough for me, there was a broken window right nearby. So I entered the building and began my search. I headed for the reference section where I found much more information detailing things about Charles Sumner. And let's just say it's a tale all right.

Charles Sumner was born into a poor family, his dad dying of cholera and his mother having to raise him on her own. Luckily for the two of them, Charles' mother was a voodoo witch doctor and very well loved by the community. meanwhile, became a piano prodigy at the age of seven. He would go on to make a career of it, and soon enough by the time he was 18, he was in his own band. Now he wasn't a millionaire or anything, but it seemed like he was well off. While nice, this information didn't help me at all and I was about to give up completely and just burn down the whole shop, when I suddenly

turned to the last page the reference book I was reading had. When I saw in the In big black letters, a headline from a newspaper. Charles Sumner missing. Intrigued, I read as best I could the old and decaying page of the book. Charles had gone out with his bandmates and had never returned home. I looked around, trying to find any other information on Charles, Mary, anybody. And then I found it. Mary Simmons and six others go missing.

I read aloud when I found an ancient newspaper article about it. I looked up when I heard footsteps outside, but it was just some crackheads mumbling to each other. I went back to the paper and read it as best I could. Mary had gone missing, about four months after Charles did. I stroked my chin at that and looked back at the other books I had thrown around everywhere. His mother. I mumbled to myself, going on a hunt.

in trying to find a book or something on her if she was so beloved by the community. And I did. Although she retreated from public life after the disappearance of Charles, I did manage to find one interview she gave before then. She blamed Mary for the missing Charles. And more importantly, the missing $10,000 he had won in a contest, the night he went out. Gotcha. I said aloud, closing that book and trying to use my mind to piece some things together. Having a good read, son, Creole asked me, sending me flinching into the bookshelf and

staring at him as he sat up above me and across from me. A really good one, Charles? I shot back at him. The smile on his face disappeared. He growled at me and high. hopped down to my level, grabbing me by the collar again and slamming me harder into the bookshelf. Don't call me that! He snarled, lifting up his fist to beat me, only for me to headbut him and grab a book from the floor, striking my boss in the face with it and pushing him over. He tripped, but stared back at me with anger and those buttons of his.

What did Mary do? Why do you keep her trapped in the basement? I demanded to know, lifting the book over my head to hit him again. He looked at me with sharpened teeth and got back up to his feet. He fixed his tie and looked at me like I was a worm that he just stepped on. He grabbed me by the collar again and stared into my button eyes with his own. That whore deserves everything I gave to her. He snarled, his teeth again growing sharp.

In a pure rush of adrenaline, I grabbed his mouth by the stitches and yanked as hard as I could. I managed to rip out the entire length of his suture, causing him to drop me and stumble backward. He gagged and coughed as he looked at me with that black ooze dripping out of his mouth much quicker than it had before. Acting quickly, I ran at him, pushing him over with all my weight. I fished inside of his coat pockets as we both stupe. stumbled to the floor, and I managed to pull out the two items I knew he needed, his spool of black thread and the key to the basement.

Thanks, Charles! I shouted with a chuckle, standing and booking it towards the library entrance. No pun intended there, surprisingly. I heard him scream and shout at me, but when I looked back he was struggling to stand up. Ripping those threads out of his mouth did something to him. Making it out through the window I had gone in through, I sighed hard as I looked down at my arms. Still pale as him, but they'd stopped at my elbows, meaning I had bought myself some time from all that. Sying hard, I now knew what had to be done. I was going in the basement, armed with the key and a rusty pipe I stole

from the outside of the library. I started walking towards old King Creoles. A million things were going through my mind at that moment. Thoughts about Charles, what had happened to him, and what was going to happen to me? Opening the door to the shop, everything was dead silent. Even the rusty bell was much quieter than it usually was. Looking to the wall of voodoo dolls, I saw that they were all starting to rot and fall off the shelves. I must have really weakened him. Renewed by this, I strode towards the basement and stopped. His office, I looked over to it and changed my course to look through it.

Maybe there was something in there. Going into the clean office, I saw most of what I'd seen the first time, a tidy space and scratched out pictures. Only this time I paid attention to the pictures, seeing that indeed these were of Charles and Mary. Opening up his office desk, I didn't find much of anything, countless buttons and threads, as well as several pairs of gloves. About to leave, I saw on his desk a picture that wasn't completely scratched out stood

prominently. A picture of a young Charles Sumner and his mother. Mother Creole. Looking out of the office and towards the basement door, I knew that all my answers would come from down there. Walking over, I finally inserted the key and turned it, opening the door and staring down into the darkness. Taking my phone out and turning on the flashlight, I made my way down. The rickety old wooden steps creaked with every one of my footsteps steps. I passed several bones and articles of clothing on my way down, and then I finally touched solid ground. I was in the basement, after all this time, and it was as freaky

and gross as I'm sure you guys imagined. Decaying and rotting bodies laid everywhere. Some hung up by strings like puppets, and others clearly having been chewed on by something. And And that's something soon caught my attention. The sound of crunching porcelain turned my attention to the corner of the room where Mary sat looking up at me in horror. He's gotten to you too. She whimpered softly, curling up into the fetal position. What happened to him?

Obviously he didn't just wake up like that, as I did. I demanded to know, keeping a distance from her and waiting for the answer. She curled up tighter. And then she finally spoke. I cheated on him. She mumbled, looking up at me with the one eye she had. Her face was cracked and her right eye was missing, but the other shone off the flashlight I had trained on her.

He was a nice guy, and when he asked me to marry him, I caved. But I was already seeing someone else. A mobster. She mumbled softly. And you wanted to make him disappear and steal that $10,000? I asked, sort of siding with Creole Charles on this one. No, that wasn't the plan at all. I told Henry that I just wanted him to get scared and leave town.

Henry and his goons took it too far. She said quickly, looking at me and learning. Lunging out, grabbing me and shaking me back and forth. I didn't tell them to torture him. Wait, torture, I asked quickly, shoving the porcelain doll off me. She looked fragile, but something had to be chewing in all these corpses down here, and she was the only thing down here. Yes, those stupid idiots, she mumbled, starting to cry and looking up at me. She held her two hands up and rubbed her messy hair around. They, they tortured him, beat him, ripped the eyes out of his head and cut his head off when it was all said and done. She explained, looking

up at me for some kind of sympathy. What? You were just going to sleep with him and steal his money. I don't believe you for a second. He's done horrible things to people. But if you cause that to happen, to him. You're no better than him." I said with a huff. It didn't make sense, the way she put it, at least. What? But? She began, obviously, trying to fix her lie, but she gave up inside, rubbing her cracked face and nodding behind her hands. She looked back up at me, with an exhausted face. Fine. I wanted to get rid of him. But I wasn't. strong enough to just come out and say I didn't love him anymore. He spent every single moment

of his life playing gigs which I had to sing in, and I hated it. I hated all of that. So when Henry came and swept me off my feet, I decided to be selfish for once in my life. She shouted back at me, stumbling to her feet and staring at me with daggers in her single eye. I guess you didn't expect him to come back as a vengeful voodoo ghost. I snickered, backing up from her and heading back towards the stairs. She followed me, the anger still obvious on her face. If Henry hadn't done such a shit job hiding his body, his mother wouldn't have discovered it and turned him into that freak. She mumbled, turning and looking around the wall she must have looked at for almost a hundred years now.

Now I'm nothing but his punching back. She sighed, looking back at me with a hopeless expression. He fixes me, then breaks me over and over again. She despaired. I'm sorry, Mary. I really am, but at the same time you aren't some innocent victim. I responded. Sorry, Travis, my boy. Your luck's run out.

The familiar voice said to me, before something struck me on my head and I lost all control of my body. I flopped to the floor and passed out. His nice dress shoes coming into view just as I lost consciousness. Wakey, wakey, son. Creole hummed, smacking me hard in the face with a glove. It snapped me awake, and I looked around, instantly trying to move but finding myself stuck and trapped.

I looked around and saw I was still in the basement, only I was tied to a table. You gotta cut me in half? I asked, groaning at the stinging pain in my head. I looked at him and realized that he'd lost an eye. Then I saw he'd used the thread from that eye to sew his mouth back up. Unfortunately not, I do need you to be somewhat intact. He said, walking over to me and tapping my nose, smiling as he pulled away. No, Travis, my boy, I do in fact need you alive.

Well, sort of, he chuckled, slamming a heavy bag onto the table on top of my leg causing me to cry out in pain. Charles, please, he doesn't deserve this, Mary's soft voice spoke up, causing Creole to stop his searching in the bag and look off into a direction I couldn't focus on. He walked off, and the sound of breaking porcelain was more than enough for me to understand what he was doing to her. Sorry about that. He returned with a chuckle, searching through the bag once again. He smiled nice and wide when he finally found the item he was looking for. He pulled out an ancient drill the kind you need to crank to be able to use.

What are you going to do to me? I asked him. He looked at me with a wide and happy smile as he placed the drill on my exposed palm. I need a permanent employee. someone who can work hard and never ever take breaks or refuse an order. If you had just been a good little boy and just followed my orders, I wouldn't have had to do this step. But you just had to start snooping, didn't you? He sighed, starting to drill into my hand. I'm not ashamed to say. I screamed. I screamed and I begged. I thrashed and I tried. I thrashed and tried.

every way possible to try and escape. It wasn't so bad with a second hand. I think I was passing out from blood loss by that point. The feet, lucky enough for me, was a walk in the park compared to the drill into my hands. As I struggled to stay conscious, I saw that he had begun to tie thick pieces of string into the holes of my hands and feet. You'll make a fine addition to the crew, Travis. You practically look the part? He giggled. His voice distorted as I slipped in and out of consciousness.

The feeling of something sharp and cold on my throat brought me back to reality. He had a hacksaw over my throat. What? No. I sputtered out. I tried to protest, but I was too weak to move at all. I'm sorry, son. This is the only way to grant you immortality.

Lucky enough for me, my head was still intact enough for my mama to bring me back to life. So you'll be nice and easy. Just a quick dip in that solution I have whipped up. And you'll be a new man. He chuckled, pressing the hack saw hard on my. throat and starting to saw into me. The first few goes were on a scale of pain you could never imagine. But by the time he cut into my spinal cord, I was already dead. Wakey, waky, son, you've got to stop falling asleep on me. Creel's soft and loving voice

spoke to me as I regained my consciousness. I looked around and saw that I was sitting up on the table. I looked down at myself, startled when I saw I was in my own black suit. My tie was red, unlike Creoles purple. I'm alive, I asked, looking over to him and touching my throat. I found a long row of stitches all across it, like his. Yes, indeed, Sonny. He chuckled, smacking my back and pulling my attention over to a large black cauldron nearby. Mama's old recipe, a quick dip of your head in there, and you can kiss mortality goodbye. He chuckled, pulling me to my feet and helping me stand straight.

I quivered at the thought that I'd been dead. But even more so, when I looked down at the strings tied to my hands and feet, feet. What am I? I asked him, looking over at him and wanting to cry, despite my clear lack of eyes. He looked back at me with a big yellow smile, pulling me close with his arm around my neck. You're my store clerk, son, and my own personal puppet. He chuckled, lifting up.

up a mirror and showing me myself. I did start crying then, even if no tears came back. My face was pale and the red cheeks bright and vibrant. My normally messy hair was nice and combed downward. Now you're going to work with me here. Forever, he said, stepping back and smiling as he motioned for me to go up the stairs. I looked up and refused to take a single step until the string tied around me went tight and some unseen force began to pull me upstairs. I tried to fight it. I tried so hard. I tried running out the door, running far away into the arms of my parents so I could wake up from this nightmare. But I had no such luck.

The force made me go to my counter and stand there. Just stand there, unable to move. I just want to go home. I mumbled, still crying as Creole made his way back upstairs. He looked my way with a smile and a chuckle. Now, Travis, we can't have a sad store clerk. Let's fix that." He snapped his fingers and smiled at me.

Of course not, King Creole, sir? I said happily, saluting him and smiling back. My mouth and body may have said that, but my mind was screaming and wanting to strangle him with the strings keeping me held upright. Adda boy! Creole hummed, clapping his gloved hands together. and heading into his office, leaving me standing there with no way to sit down or do anything. Just stand there and smile like an idiot.

I can only control myself at night when he locks the shop and spends all his time down in the basement. I'm allowed to sit and do whatever I want. But the second I approach the door, my invisible handler forces me back to my personal handler me back to my post. This is my life now, the puppet in King Creole's sick little games. All I can do is smile and thank you for coming in. I can't scream for help or anything. I'm trapped here and I can't find any way out. Help me. Please help and make sure to visit old King Creoles half priced voodoo shop. We have everything you could ever want. King Creole is a lovely boss and is

more than happy to grant any wish you could ever want. And I'm more than happy to clean up anything. You leave behind.