Category: Horror

Caldwell lit the last candle. Everything was in place, exactly as it was meant to be.

The room we were in was completely devoid of furniture, and was lit only by candles. In the center was a rune and a circle. On the floor was a basket of tulip petals and a silver dagger.

“Portia, I think I’m done. You ready to follow through with this? I mean, I trust you, but I’ve never heard of a demon story that turned out well in the end.” Caldwell stood up from his crouch. “Maybe it’s media bias or something, I’ve never met a real demon, but still. Sometimes stereotypes hold a bit of truth?” He looked at me. If I couldn’t hear the concern in his voice, I could see it in his eyes.

“Yes, Caldwell. I’m sure. I’ve done as much studying on demons as I possibly could, and I know this ritual inside out. The demon will give us what we want, and and we only have to give it something small in return. Demons like knick-knacks.”

Caldwell laughed. “You going to give a demon your baby blanket?”

“Maybe. If it wants it. Kind of ironic how sentimental demons can be.” I shrugged. “You’d think souls of the damned wouldn’t want anything to do with earth, but whatever.”

“Yeah. It’s strange.”

We both stood silently, staring at the rune and circle we had etched into my floorboards. The rune would be the actual mechanism which would allow the demon entry- it literally translates into portal- while the circle would keep the demon from wreaking havoc. We carved the circle with the silver dagger and filled it with salt. It sounded like superstitious bullshit, but nearly every account said it worked, so I chose to trust the books.

“Well,” Caldwell clapped his hands, “The candles won’t burn forever. Should we start?”

“Yes. Let’s start.” I kneeled next to the circle and sprinkled tulip petals into the circle. They began to burn as they touched the wood, their form changing into rotted teeth.

“Oh. That’s what the petals are for?” Caldwell asked.

“Yeah,” I replied.

“Honestly I just thought demons needed you to set the mood. Can’t get it up without the right atmosphere right?”

I didn’t bother responding, and instead threw on more petals. This handful turned into rusty nails.

Caldwell sighed. “Tough crowd tonight. Hopefully the demon likes my jokes a little.”

“Sorry if i’m a little dry tonight. I am trying to summon a demon.”

“Oh yeah, don’t mind me. I just figured you might need some more help from me.”

“I’ll let you know when it’s your turn to do something.” I tossed a last handful of petals into the circle.

This time they turned into polaroids. Each image was of a failure I had endured. My second spelling bee, failing in the second round. My junior high school valentine’s dance, where I was turned down by a girl I had a crush on. My high school graduation, where my uncle showed up drunk.

Each photo held places and objects that would mean basically nothing to anyone else looking at them, but I knew what they were. I could see all of them. The first time I tried to get into a sorority and they told me they didn’t accept lesbians. The first time I tried to join a fraternity, which I had almost forgotten about. There was even the first time I was fired from a job, some sushi place that decided I “didn’t fit in” because someone else outed me.

I could feel my hands shake. I let out a ragged breath, and pushed the remaining petals aside.

“Whoa, Portia. Are you alright? You look like you just- scratch that. What’s going on?” Caldwell kneeled next to me and put his hands on my shoulders.

I didn’t respond.

“What’s in the photos, Portia?”

I brushed his hands off. “Nothing. That just means the ceremony is working.”

“Okay…” Caldwell slowly stood up. “I believe you. Just let me know if something goes wrong. I’ll get you out of here.”

“Mhm.” With that, I stood up. “Okay. It’s your turn now. Stand where I was just standing and close your eyes.”

Caldwell shivered. “Hoo, yeah, okay, that gave me the chills. Close my eyes? This is a little too spooky for me.”

“It’s okay, I have everything under control,” I reassured him.

He sighed. “Alright. Okay. Yeah. I can do this. I trust you. This will be alright.” He stepped into the spot where I had been only a moment before. “I can do this,” he told himself one more time.

“Oh, and Portia?” He started. “In case anything bad happens, I just want you to know that I care about you a lot.” He turned around to look at me. “I… I hope this demon thing gives you what you need.” He closed his eyes and turned back around.

I blinked a few times, tears welling in my eyes.. “So do I, Caldwell.” I leaned over and picked up the dagger. “So do I.”

I thrust the knife between his ribs, then pushed him into the circle. He gasped as I did. Then he fell to the ground, and his blood began to pool around him.

I pushed his feet into the circle. I didn’t need any demon getting out.

There was nothing but quiet.

The sudden rush of what I had just done hit me all at once, as if it was on a timer. I fell to the ground and couldn’t stop myself from crying. “Fuck,” I whispered to myself. “This was never gonna work. What have I done.” I screamed and started sobbing, pulling my legs into me to hide my face.

Then, the candles turned into a dark red light. The room was overcome with a harsh wind, circling around Caldwell. I scrambled to my feet and wiped my eyes. It’s happening! His body floated in the center of the circle, turning until he was face up and his feet faced the ground. A bright spear of energy suddenly shot through his chest, and his eyes opened. They were bloodshot, and his pupils replaced his irises. He floated down, landing on his feet.

There it was. The demon I had spent so long attempting to summon was in front of me. It took a step toward me, stopping just a moment before the barrier that kept it from murdering me.

“So it’s you. I had heard about you.” The demon’s voice was just Caldwell’s voice. Nothing had changed. “Tell me. What is it your name?” The demon stared at me. The blood in its eyes receded back into white.

“My name doesn’t matter,” I told the demon. Stay Strong, Portia.

“Oh, do you think giving me your name gives me some power over you?” The demon asked. “No, names mean nothing. They’re a human construct. Gods and demons know each other by essences, and have no need for names. However, for dealings like this we tend to have one. You may call me Moniker. My pronouns are gi and gir.”

I laughed. “You know what moniker means, right?”

“Very,” gi responded. Gi didn’t laugh along.

I cleared my throat. “Very well. I am Portia.”

“Portia. Interesting. Now what would a Portia want with a demon?” gi asked.

“I want… I want a purpose,” I told gir. “I want to feel like my life will make a difference on this earth. I want to prove that I’m worth something, and I want to-” I stopped myself from saying something I might regret. “I want to make the world a better place for me. And for others like me. I don’t want us to have to live in fear anymore.”

Moniker cocked gir head and smiled. “Interesting. And who are you, Portia? Who would you categorise as ‘like you?’”

“I’m- I’m a lesbian. And the people who I’d say are like me are other queer people.” I clenched my fists. “We deserve better.”

“Hm. I’m not usually one to mettle in human affairs.” Moniker clapped gir hands, much like Caldwell used to. “I will do this for you, however.”

“What’s your price?” I asked Moniker.

“Hmm. This room is rather empty.” Gi looked about the room, before scanning the floor. “I’ll take the photos in my circle. They feel charged with emotions. It’s been a long while since I’ve felt an energy like this.”

“Oh. Demons really do like knick-knacks,” I said.

“Who told you that? We keep that part of our deals secret. We like to surprise those we deal with,” gi said.

“I honestly made it up a few minutes ago,” I replied.

“Hm. Interesting.”

I and Moniker sat in silence for a few moments. I stared at the photos at gir feet.

“Well, I need you to do one more thing for me to enact my end of the bargain.”

“What is it?” I asked.

“Give me your hands,” the demon responded.

“Oh no, you aren’t fooling me,” I told gir. “I know how this works. I break the circle, you kill me, and then you kill everyone else in a mile radius. Not happening.”

“I have no intentions of killing you, Portia.” I winced when he said my name. Just like Caldwell. “I will change the fiber of your being, yes, but I will not kill you. You will do that much more effectively than I could. Your form will be suited to the job.”

“Hold on,” I interrupted. “Will you run that by me just one more time?”

“I’m going to transform you. Your human life as you know it will end, but you will be reborn as something greater. You will be beyond humanity, and even beyond demonhood. You will roam the earth and be submerged in glorious purpose. I almost envy you.”

“I still don’t trust you,” I replied.

“Portia, I’m trapped in a human body with a knife sticking out of my back. Do you truly believe I pose a huge threat to anyone, save infants?” Moniker shook gir head. “No. I will give you what you crave and take the photos in return.”

I stole a glance at one last photo. It was of a leather recliner. A recliner I lost my virginity on. The recliner that my parents walked in and kicked me out of the house.

“Portia, time is running thin. The candles won’t burn forever. Shall we start?” The demon extended a hand, stopping just before the circle.

I sighed. “I trust you.” I put my hand in girs.

“Wonderful..” Moniker gripped my hand, holding on tightly. I felt nothing for a few moments. Then gi let go.

“Welcome to your new purpose. Welcome to your new life,” Moniker said.

“Nothing is happening,” I replied.

“Not yet,” Moniker said. Gi began picking up the polaroids. “They’ll happen soon. Farewell, Portia. I look forward to our next meeting.” Gi had picked up all of the polaroids. They all burned into ash, and then gi closed gir eyes. Caldwell’s body fell back down.

I knelt on the floor and began crying. Had I really killed someone for nothing? Was this really how this was going to happen?

In between sobs, I wiped my eyes. Looking at my hands, something was amiss.

My hands were covered in ink. I pressed them to my face again, and felt the cool liquid.

“Ink. Curious.”

I started laughing, but my breath failed me and never let a sound out. I dug my nails into my cheeks, and felt more of the ink fall out. I felt no pain.

Continuing my cold cackling, I grasped my shoulders. They were soaked. I ripped into my own flesh anyway, just to feel even more of my cursed blood leak. I danced around the room, leaving ink stains on the walls with my hands. Sometimes I dragged my hands across the walls, sometimes I threw ink off of them onto the walls.

I finally knew what it meant to be real. I knew exactly why I was on this earth. I could feel my reason to exist welling up in my chest.

I was born for this.

Suddenly my laughter could be heard. It was quiet. Private. Only I needed to hear myself laugh. No one else deserved to hear me. No one else had the same amount of purpose that I had, and no one ever would.

Mistake

“Fucking subway pass,” I mumbled, while attempting to reload it. “Damn thing got wet, and now it just refuses to work.” I threw the pass onto the ground. “Whatever, just forget about it, Tessa. You’re fine.” I had the printing machine print me another pass. That was three dollars out of my pocket I could’ve saved.

I hate New York’s subway system so much, but it’s much faster than trying to bus. I’m not even going to attempt to drive in this city.

The machine accepted my cash, then dispensed a thin slip of paper, with a magnetic stripe on the backside. That was why getting it wet was a problem, because the water would just seep into the paper and screw it up if it got too wet. I had ten dollars on my last slip, and that’s just gone, too. I need to move to a different city.

I took my new pass, swiped it at the gate, and waited for my next train. The station was practically empty, except for one guy waiting by the stairs to go up. I stood next to the tracks, and waited for my train.

It didn’t help that it was gross down here, either. The tracks for the trains always seemed to have water pooled in them, and I’ve seen plenty of rats taking drinks from the damn puddles. The walls were often tiled, and that looked good, but the tiling was pretty negligible when the wall just above was nothing but rusty metal, same with the ceiling. Hanging from the ceiling were plenty of light fixtures, which hung on by thin and similarly-rusty tubes. I was always worried a light might just come crashing down one day. Oh, and the ground is often just a dingy and browned concrete. Seriously, it’s disgusting, and probably has never been cleaned since it was installed.

Then, as if to make today worse than it was already was, the lights all went out. I screamed, and ducked down. Shit shit shit!

Only a couple moments later, the lights turned back on. I stood up and looked around. Nothing had changed, except the guy by the stairs had left. It was just me now. “Damn it. I got scared for nothing.”

I pulled out my phone just to look at it. I didn’t have any service. Figures, that’s what happens when I’m underground.

I heard some strange noise coming from down the tracks. It sounded like some sort of quiet chanting. I looked down the dark tunnel, but couldn’t see anything. I lifted my phone and turned on its light. I still didn’t see anything new coming from the tunnel, but I stared for a moment.

Suddenly appearing in my light was the shape of a person. Well, sort of? It looked absolutely like a shadow, but also shimmered a lot and looked blurry. It looked like it was expending a lot of effort to hold itself together.

“Oh FUCK!” I shouted as I realised what was shambling out of the tunnel. It wasn’t human, that’s for damn sure.

I quickly looked back and forth, trying to decide what I should do. Was running a good choice of action? What about my train? Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit!

Then, I heard a rumbling from the distance. The train was approaching. I smiled at the thing and stuck my tongue out at it. It was going to get hit by a train, because it was so slow it couldn’t move out of the way. Whatever it was, it wouldn’t be my problem.

Just as I expected, the train rammed through the shadow-thing and stopped. I stepped onto the last train car, and sat down on a bench. I just beat a weird monster by literally waiting for a train.

“Wow, I should probably be reacting to that more, shouldn’t I? Fuck it, I’m way too tired for this bullshit anyway.” I leaned back in my seat, and got nice and comfortable. “Not. My. Problem.”

The train car was empty besides me. Honestly, the whole train was probably empty except for maybe a homeless person somewhere in the train. I didn’t need to worry about anyone bothering me, I just needed to worry about getting off at my stop.

Then, the conductor of the train spoke over the speaker. “We will be skipping the next stop due to unforeseen technical difficulties. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

“Yeah, whatever. The most inconvenient thing is how impossible it is to hear you. Damn, speak up.” Seriously, I hated how impossible it was to hear that speaker, even in an empty car.

Another minute passed before the man spoke up again. “The issues are continuing, so we will be unable to stop at any stations until further notice. Sorry for the inconvenience.”

“Are the brakes not working or something? Jesus. There is literally no other reason for us to not stop.” I stopped and thought about it. “Actually, maybe this is a good thing. No one will bother me on my car.” Smug, I snuggled into the chair.

A few more moments pass, then the loudspeaker started up again. I waited for the voice, but there was nothing. All I heard was that quiet static from the speaker. I sighed. “You knocked the speaker switch on, buddy. Turn it off or something.” I think this conductor didn’t know how to do his job. I’ll be furious if I die on this train.

The static just kept going for a while. I was angry. “Why is the conductor having such issues just running a train?”

I looked at the door connecting the cars. There was a large red sign that made it very clear that you shouldn’t be crossing between cars while the train is moving. Probably for the best, but I might just have to go find that conductor and give him a piece of my mind. He can’t drive a train and he can’t even keep the intercom from turning on. Seriously, who hired this guy?

I got out of my seat, and stepped toward the door. “Yeah, someone needs to go figure out what’s going on. It’s probably just me one this train anyway.” I shoved the door open, and a furious wind started blowing into the train car. I pushed against it, and tried to hold my breath. Not only was the harsh wind making it hard to breath, but the subway never smelled that great.

I stepped between the cars, trying so carefully to keep from flying off the side. Lights from the tunnel were soaring past me, blinking in and out faster than I could think to use them. I pulled the door closed behind me, and got into the next car. With great effort, I shut that door, too. I was relieved once the wind was no longer tugging on me and trying to pull me to my death.

I turned and looked at the car. All of the seats were empty, of course, and there was an empty energy drink can rolling back and forth on a seat. The car also smelled pretty badly of alcohol, so I was in no mood to rest. I went straight for the next door.

Again, a harsh wind blew into the car once the door was open. However, the usual gross smell of the subway was not as bad as the smell of the car I was just in. I almost welcomed it, but the gusts from the train’s speed were still too much to breath.

I covered my face with my arm as moved, this time. I could breath a bit better through my nose this way. I took careful and small steps to cross the short distance from one car to another. I pulled on the door, stepped through, and then pulled it shut. The wind stopped, and the smell went away a bit. I breathed a sigh of relief as I looked into the next car. There was a paper bag that was floating down to the ground and settling, probably because of the door I opened. Once it landed, it rocked back and forth with the movement of the train.

“Wow, you just can’t escape trash in the subway, can you?” I said. Maybe I had too much of a habit of talking to myself. “Yeah, whatever, it’s not like anyone else is affected.”

I started walking to next door when I heard the static suddenly rise in volume. I had forgotten that was even playing for a while. I stopped in my tracks and looked for the nearest speaker. It was up on the ceiling of the car, in a corner. “Oh, yeah, that’s lovely. So atmospheric and nice.”

I stomped over to the next door and pushed it open. After doing this twice, I felt much more confident in myself and got through much quicker and steadier.

The next car looked worse than the previous cars. There were plastic shopping bags fluttering about, and the contents of the bags were too. There were unlabeled cans rolling around, a broken and cracked carton of eggs making a huge mess, wrappers and other sorts of paper trash flying about, and even an empty and spilled milk carton was bouncing around. It took a couple of moments, but everything eventually settled in place.

I sighed again. “Seriously, who just brings a carton of eggs onto the train? And how do you get a carton of milk to open and spill like that?”

The lights went out, and the car was dark. The only source of lights were the quickly passing ones out in the tunnel. I looked out the window and saw us blast past a station. There were a few people waiting for a train, but they clearly didn’t get to catch this one. Something was more off than just an incompetent conductor.

I pulled my phone out and turned on its light. I flashed it around the train car. Nothing looked different than when the lights were on, but now the trash caused bigger shadows in the car. I quickly stepped onto the seats and walked over the trash. “I really didn’t sign up for this shit.”

I hopped off of the seats and in front of the door that led to the next car. I grabbed the handle, ready to turn it and shove the door forward. Then, I heard a noise behind me. It sounded like chanting, again. “Fuck no.”

Without letting go of the door, I turned around and shined my light back into the car. Walking through the door behind me was a blurry and dark figure. It opened what had to be its mouth, and I heard more whispers float from it and toward me. Its mouth-thing connected one side of its head to the other, but certainly wasn’t quite grinning. It lifted one hand, a hand previously resting near its knee, and reached out to me.

“What the fuck!” I shouted. I pulled on the door handle and used my entire body to shove it open. I stumbled out into the between-car section, and tried as quickly as I could to tug the next one open. I slid open as quickly as I could make it, and I stepped onto the next empty train car.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. What the fuck?” I realised my phone was in my hand. “Oh shit, no no no no.” I patted myself down, and touched a large shape in my pocket. “Oh, fuck. Okay, I’m good, I still have my phone. I never even realised that I stuffed it in my pocket while trying to move from one car to another. Fuck, dude.” I pulled the phone out of my pocket. Its light was still one, so I shined it into the car. The seats of the car were covered in a blurry, shadowy mess. The shadows were slowly moving onto the floor of the car. I ran past them all and to the next door. I pocketed my phone again, pulled on the handle of the door, and shoved the bastard open. It easily let me out, and I moved over to the next car.

“Please let there be one more, please let there only be one more,” I whispered. My light illuminated the car. For a moment I thought the light wasn’t working, because I still only saw darkness. I turned the light to my face. It was definitely still on. The static from the speakers was suddenly more apparent in the dark. “Fuck me, is this really happening?”

I put my left hand in front of me, and tried to use it to help me figure out what was in front of me. My legs bumped into what had to be the seats often, but my hand didn’t touch anything. All of my steps were slow. And agonising. I was already sick of this train car. Then, my hand touched a pole.

“Shit!” I shouted, and stumbled backward in pain. I looked at my hand. The dark stuff was a little stuck to it. “No!” I tried to shake it off. Luckily for me, I was successful. My hand was reddened from where the shadows had been. It stung.

Eventually, I stumbled to the other side of the train, and found the other door. I guessed at where the handle was. I grabbed it, grunted from the pain, and tugged the door open. The lights from the tunnel were still flashing by. I stepped through the doorway, and tugged the door closed behind me.

“Aah!” I screamed as I let go of the door. I felt relief from the pain, but then a stinging followed. I shook my hand vigorously. I pulled out my light and shined it at the other door. That same darkness covered it. “Fuck. Fuck!”

I stood in place for a few moments, thinking of what to do. An idea crossed my mind. “Hell, I might as well give it a shot.”

I pulled my shirt off, and the winds were even colder on my bare skin. I used the shirt to keep the shadow-stuff off of my hand as I pushed the next door open. It worked, and I didn’t feel the same pain from touching the darkness. Yet, the stinging sensation was still there.

I entered the train car and put my shirt back on. “How the hell can this thing cause me so many problems, yet not even be here?” Shining my light into the train car revealed everything as it was supposed to be, and I sighed in relief. “At least I can see again.”

I crossed my fingers as I approached the next car. “Please be the last one, please be the last one, please be the last one!” I pulled on the handle, and the door opened. From the side of the train, I saw a really bright light. I looked over, and saw a stop approaching. “Yeah, great, I bet we’re missing this one, too.”

No one was at the stop as we flew by. I wish there had been at least someone. How many of the other stops had people at them that I just missed? How many times had I lost the chance to call for help?

The light from the stop disappeared in the distance. I was only illuminated by the tunnel again.

Suddenly, I realised I didn’t really remember why I was trying to move to the front of the train. What was my goal?

“Right. I should probably stop the train. Hit the brakes or something.” I sighed. “Fuck, how did this happen?” I turned over to the other door and pulled it open. Inside was just another passenger car.

“Why the fuck does this just not end? I’m done wasting time.” I stomped over to the other door, and ripped it open. I shut it, and broke into the next car.

My phone light illuminated seats. I lifted it up to the other wall. “Oh thank god.” The door was closer to me than any of the other ones had been. “The fucking cockpit or whatever you call it. Jesus, finally.”

I ran to the door, and pulled it open. I gasped.

The conductor’s face was covered in pitch black. The speaker microphone was hanging, just above the ground. I was reminded of the static playing behind me. I pushed past the man in the chair, and started looking for an emergency brake. “Fucking fuck, there’s gotta be something somewhere!”

Behind me, I heard the whispers again. “You’re fucking with me.” I flashed the light back into the train. The shadow was stepping through the door, and toward me. “You’re fucking with me.”

I stood in place. There was literally nothing I could do to stop it. I flashed my light at it, constantly flicking it off and on, but it didn’t change anything. It just kept chanting and stepping towards me.

I stopped flicking the light, and just kept it on. “What the hell do you want?” I could feel a lump welling up in my throat. It was halfway through the car at that point.

I felt a tear slide down my face. Am I crying?

Its chants got louder and louder, and I saw it open its mouth. It was as wide as my face, and split the head greatly. Shadowy strings connected the two halves. Its body shuddered.

I regained control of myself, and immediately started hitting buttons on the control panel. One of them had to be a brake or something. Right?”

Nothing was happening when I hit the buttons. They all just kind stayed dim.

“Won’t… Work…” I heard from between the chants. I looked back, and the thing was maybe two feet away from me. I tried to scramble away, shining my light at it. The area behind it was suddenly covered in pitch blackness.

“Turn… Off…” Were the only understandable words that came through its mouth. Maybe its mouth? It was making noise, and it was still chanting. “Off… Light…”

I breathed quickly, and my vision was blurry. I wiped my eyes with my arm. The creature was inches away from me. I still held my phone at it. Its body quivered more and more the closer it got to my light. It grabbed the phone in my hand. The light turned out, and the screen itself powered down. The sound of static was loud again. The chanting disappeared.

I covered my head in my arms, and I sobbed. It was so dark.

I stood outside of our house, waiting for my husband. He always took a while to actually get out of the house once I tell him ‘I’m ready.’ He’s the kind of guy who thinks he can get ready in a couple minutes, so he puts it off until he’s either late or almost late. Either way, it gave me the chance to smoke before we went grocery shopping.

It was only early afternoon, but the evening fog had set in early today. I could only see about 40 feet away from myself in any direction, but it’d be enough. The grocery store wasn’t too far away.

“Alright, let’s go,” Brett said, walking down our porch stairs to our car.

“Wow, I only smoked half a cigarette this time,” I replied, laughing.

Brett scowled. “You really should quit smoking.”

“I know, I know. I’m working on it. No need to remind me.” I kneeled down rubbed the cigarette out on the ground

“I’ll stop reminding you once you have completely quit,” He replied.

“Not even a rare social smoke?” I asked as I put the cigarette away.

“Not even that.”

Either way,I got into the driver’s seat and drove us to the closest superstore. Really, it was just a Walmart, but I hated admitting I shopped at Walmart.

“You’ve got a list, right sweetheart?” I asked.

“Of course I do, Arthur. Why wouldn’t I?” He replied.

I laughed. “Ah, well, I just like double checking. You know how I am.”

“I know, sweetie. It’s probably a good thing you’re so insistent on keeping me up on things.”

“You’re welcome,” I replied, smugly.

“Oh, I see how it is, Mr. Marlboro,” Arthur laughed.

“Okay, fine. Thanks for pushing me to better myself too.”

“I can live without a shopping list,” he said, “but you aren’t living if you’re missing a lung.”

“I know, I know,” I wave him off. “Gee, you’re worse than my mom.”

“I feel like your mom,” he started to laugh, “Old and crotchety!”

We both laughed, and let the quiet hang in the air afterwards. It was nice.

“Fog’s out early today, huh,” I mentioned.

“We’re probably in the thick of it right now. It should pass in a few days.”

“I hope you’re right. It’s pretty dreary, and we have to drive at 20 miles-per-hour everywhere we go.”

“It could be worse. We could just be not shopping at all.”

“Oh, you know that isn’t really an option. We should have just gone last week,” I piped in.

“Oh well,” he said. He pulled down the sun blocker, so that he could look at himself in the mirror.

Within a few more moments, we arrived at the superstore. We both found a parking spot near the back of the lot– so that we wouldn’t lose our car among other cars– and walked toward the store.

Once we entered, I was relieved to see my breaths stop leaving a huge cloud of steam everywhere I went. I grabbed a shopping cart, and caught up with Arthur. “Alright, where to first?”

“We should left and get cereal first,” he told me.

“The freezer section is closer, though,” I replied.

“We’ll get frozen goods on the way back,” he said.

I started walking toward the dry foods anyway. “You know, this isn’t summertime down in Georgia anymore, Arthy-dear.”

“I lived in Wyoming. Georgia is nowhere near Wyoming.”

“Eh, they’re both just as conservative to me,” I chuckled.

“S’why I left,” Arthur replied. We reached the cereal aisle, and he grabbed some off-brand cheerios. I grabbed a box of Cookie Crisp, and we put them into the cart.

“I can’t believe you can still stand eating that stuff,” Arthur chided me.

“Come on! It’s like desserts, but in the morning! That’s awesome!”

“Whatever, you can have your kid’s cereal,” he said, waving his hand farewell to me as he walked forward.

I followed him. “I will have my children’s breakfast item, thank you very much,” I said.

The rest of our shopping went rather similarly, with Arthur grabbing foods you actually have to cook, while I grabbed pizza rolls and burritos.

At check-out, I ribbed into him a little bit. “I know you have to be incredibly jealous of how I live?”

“And how is that?” He demanded.

“Oh, allI have to do is go to work for a few hours every week, and then I get to come home to a lovely hubby who cooks all my meals for me while I just laze around the house,” I bragged.

“Oh yeah? Well, I can’t help but wonder who enables your lifestyle,” He said, with dignity.

“You know who that is,” I said through a smile. I grabbed him from behind and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

The counter girl laughed. “Get a room, you two.”

I gasped. “Is not a superstore just one giant room?”

She laughed, along with Arthur.

“Your total will be $127.34,” she told us.

I took out my wallet, paid, and we left the store with groceries in tow. The moment we walked out of the door, though, it was incredibly apparent that things weren’t right.

“Where are the cars?”I asked.

“I have got no idea. Did we come through the wrong doors?”

“Even if we did, there should still be cars on the opposite side. What the hell?”

I left the cart on the sidewalk, and I stepped toward the parking lot.

“Maybe-”

I jumped. “Jesus, I didn’t know you followed me, Arthur. Warn me next time.

“Sorry,” he said.” “Was there was some emergency alert you and I missed?”

“I doubt it. Our phones would have been buzzing and going haywire and shit.”

“Um,” Arthur mumbled. “Hell. I don’t know.”

“Let’s just see if we can find our car, alright?” I reassured Arthur. At least, I thought I was. I didn’t really know how scared Arthur was.

“I was about to suggest that myself.”

The two of us continued to walk into the parking lot. Of course,since we parked so far away from the the store, we lost sight of it due to the fog. Scouring the parking lot yielded no car.

“This is either terrifying or a really good prank.” I reached into my pockets to make sure I still that the keys. I felt them, and pulled them out.

“What do you make of this?” I asked.

Arthur shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe you’re just dreaming. Pinch yourself.”

“Real nice of dream-you to tell me the secret of the dream, don’t you think.” I sighed.

“Maybe we should just head back to the store,” he suggested.

“Sure. Let’s just do that.”

The two of us walked back toward the store.

“Hey, we forgot to grab our cart,” I mentioned.

“I left it on purpose. Not much use dragging a cart around when we don’t even have a car,” he reasoned.

“Yeah, okay, that’s fair,” I said.

I stopped walking. “Does it seem weird to you that we haven’t seen the building yet?” I asked. “Like, we went the right way. All I see is more parking lot all around.”

“I didn’t want to say anything,” Arthur admitted.

“Hell,” I said. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” he sighed. “Like, this is some kind of bullshit you see happening in one of your b-films.”

“Or one of your video games,” I said.

“Yeah, but in the video game you find a way out. There are usually clues or something,” he said.

“Nothing out here but unlit street lamps. It’s still daylight out.”

We both stood still, without saying a word for a few moments. That was when the alarm sounded.

Arthur and I refused to make a sound, instead opting to look about wildly for the source of the sound. It sounded like it was coming from everywhere and nowhere at once. It hurt my head to think about it.

I grabbed the sides of my head in recoil, trying to block out the sound. It didn’t work.

Then, almost as suddenly as it began, it stopped. It was just over.

I looked up at Arthur. My head was throbbing from the sudden end of the alarms.

“Are you okay?” I asked.

Arthur said nothing, but he pointed past and behind me. I craned my head back to see what he was pointing at.

There were silhouettes in the fog shambling toward us. There were dozens of them.

“Holy shit,” I whispered.

“So you see them too. That’s- that’s good,” Arthur said.

I squinted to try and see them a bit better. “Oh fuck, I think those things have holes instead of faces.”

“Don’t you try telling me those are the goddamned pirori!” Arthur shouted

“I don’t know what the hell that means,” I said, “But you can look for yourself.”

Arthur squinted at the figures, much like I had, and gasped. “Okay, what the hell are we still doing here, Brett?”

“What do you mean?” I asked. “We already tried to leave.” I was desperately trying to stay calm, but I wasn’t sure how long my bravado would last me.

“No, I mean right now!” Arthur grabbed my hand, and started to run away from the figures emerging from the mist. Not really able to choose, I kept up with him.

Despite our clear goal being to get as far away from the figures as we could, I couldn’t help but look back at them. Which, of course, is when what was behind became even worse.

Standing far behind the now-miniscule figures was something huge. I looked vaguely like a giant human, but it’s stomach was facing upwards, and it’s back was arched back terribly. It’s limbs didn’t look quite right either, with more than one joint bending in each one, suspending it. I saw its mouth open before it receded into the fog and out of my vision again.

“Arthur, run faster!”

There was a curdling scream. Unlike the alarm, it clearly came from one direction.

Arthur took my advice after hearing that. I only wish he hadn’t looked back.

“Come to the kitchen, come look at what I brought home today!”

I saw Ethan carrying a small box into the house.

“What’s in it, Honey?” I always sat in the kitchen while waiting for my husband to come home, so I was already there. It didn’t stop him from calling to me, anyway.

“I’ll tell you when William is here. William! Come here!” Ethan placed the box on the table, and sat down. William, our son, came in following that statement.

Ethan got straight to opening the box once William was present. “I got a DVR! I know how excited you guys were about TiVo, so I got this one!”

“No way, Dad! That wasn’t supposed to come out until March!” William was eyeing the box as harshly as his little nine-year-old body would let him.

“This isn’t a TiVo, Will. This is something different. We got early access to a different company’s DVR.” Ethan lifted the DVR out of the box. He beamed with pride.

“A different company? Is that why the box is unlabeled?” I said. William examined the box closely, and even lifted it up to look underneath it. It was completely clean of any branding.

“Okay, so we have a DVR. How are we going to contact this random company if there’s something wrong with it? How do we know this DVR even came from a trustworthy source?” I drilled Ethan. He clearly didn’t think this through.

“Well, um, I guess we don’t have any real way to take this back to the company. Either way, we still have a DVR. If it doesn’t work, we can just throw it away and get the TiVo later. It isn’t any sort of big deal.” Ethan picked up the box, and took it into the front room. William followed him excitedly. I wasn’t on board with a mysterious DVR.

“Let’s see, I just have to plug this into here, and that into there,” I heard Ethan say. William just giggled with glee. Eventually, I got up from the table to see what Ethan was doing. Much to my surprise, he was already done.

“That was much easier than I expected. Well, let’s test this thing out.” Ethan sat on the couch, and turned on the TV. Then, he used the DVR remote to power it on.

“Was there even an instruction manual for this?” I asked. I leaned in the doorway between the kitchen and the front room.

Ethan shook his head. “If the menu is good enough, we shouldn’t need an instruction manual.”

On the TV was simply some news station. However, Ethan hit his remote, and then there was a simple blue menu sitting over the face of some anchorman. Well, half of his face. The menu took up the top portion of the screen.

“See, this is easy to get, Lu. There are options for record, watch, and schedule recording. Well, besides settings and exit. That’s really easy, right?” Ethan moved his little hand-thing between the options. “Look, there are even buttons for pausing and fast forwarding the show. Isn’t that cool?”

“Dad! Let’s watch something that’s been recorded! Let’s do it!” William shouted.

“There isn’t anything to watch yet, sport. We haven’t recorded anything yet.” Ethan tousled William’s hair. I looked back at the screen, and stared at it. None of us had ever seen a DVR before, but Ethan heard about it a few months back at some technology demonstration. He told us about it, and we got pretty excited too. It wasn’t until a while after that I realised that I really wouldn’t use it often.

“Try it anyway, Dad! Maybe they recorded something for us to watch! Try it,” William said. He got slowly quieter then. He probably realised how loud he was being.

“Alright, lil’ Will. I’ll try it for you. But don’t expect any shows to be there.” Ethan moved his screen hand over the option that said ‘watch.’ When he hit enter, the blue menu at the top suddenly took up the whole screen. You could still hear the audio from the news, but you couldn’t see anyone.

“Huh. You were right, Will. There are some shows recorded. They mostly look like cartoons, though. Maybe they were recorded as a test before I got it?” Ethan looked up at me, and I shook my head.

“Well, I guess you can watch one of these cartoons, sport. I think your mom wants to beat me.” He laughed, and William laughed to.

“Alright, Dad. I’ll wait for you to get back.” Ethan handed Will the remote, then stood up and came into the kitchen with me.

“Okay, dear. What do you want to say? I know you seem really bothered by this whole thing.” Ethan pulled me near him, and kissed my forehead.

I pushed him off. “You can’t sweep me off my feet right now, Ethan. Seriously, how do we know that William isn’t going to find something deranged recorded on that thing? How do you know the only shows on there right now are cartoons?”

Ethan shook his head. “Well, I looked at the shows, for one. And still, we can just check everything tonight. If there is something bad on there, we’ll just delete it before William looks at it.”

“What if he’s already found something, though? We can’t risk that!”

As if just to prove me wrong, the Pokemon theme song started up. “That doesn’t sound terrible and messed up to me, Luanne. Just relax. We’ll be fine, and we saved money on this. And if it ends up being bad for everyone, I’ll be sure to make it up to you. Is it okay if I kiss you now?”

I looked towards the living room. The TV simply showed regular old Pokemon.

“Alright, Ethan. You can kiss me now.”

***

William came home from school the next, and was still just as excited about the DVR.

“Hey mom! Can I watch the DVR?” William asked.

I shook my head. “You still have to do your chores first. This is still just like when we had regular TV.” William nodded.

“Alright, I’ll do my homework and then sweep in the bathroom, then can I watch the DVR?”

“Well, those are your chores, so yes. You can watch the DVR after you do those.” I replied. William jumped in joy, then rushed toward his room. I smiled at him, then returned to reading. I always read in the kitchen once William got home, so that he could watch cartoons once his chores were done. It also let me make dinner easily.

After a little while, I heard the TV start in the front room. It wasn’t much of a big deal, because that was what often happened when William finished his chores. He was very good at finishing his chores properly.

Some more time passed, and I cooked dinner. Ethan was home from work a little bit before I was done with dinner. He was spending a bit of extra time at his job, so he came home later than he normally would. Times were a bit rough, but we tried to spend little on things we didn’t need, so that we wouldn’t end up in poverty like so many of mine and Ethan’s friends from high school fell into.

Either, Ethan talked with me while I cooked dinner. Once it was done, I called William into the kitchen for dinner. We all ate and talked, and it was nice.

Afterward, Ethan went over William’s homework with him. I cleaned up in the kitchen. Once they were done, Ethan motioned for me to sit at the table with him.

“Honey, I wish you had checked William’s homework before I came home. He had done so many of the problems wrong. I mean, I understand a mistake or two, but William is really good at math. That DVR distracted him.”

“Well, I’m sure he’s just excited. Give him a day or two, he’ll probably get over it by that time. He’ll fall into a regular schedule, and it’ll be just fine. It’ll be like before, and we won’t have to worry about him slacking off on his chores. I’ll pick up after his sweeping for tomorrow, and you can just go over his homework like always. It’ll be alright.” I kissed Ethan on the cheek to reassure him.

“You’re probably right. Yeah, okay, I’ll do that for you. I shouldn’t worry about Will so much.”

***

The day after, William came home from school at the time he always does.

“Hey Mom, I’m going to go watch the DVR,” William said as he walked past.

“Make sure you do your chores first, William,” I replied. William nodded and walked into the front room. He turned the TV on, but I didn’t hear him change the show. He must have just prepared the TV for later.

After some amount of minutes, I went and checked on him. He was sitting in front of the TV while doing his homework. “William, you know you aren’t supposed to watch TV while you do your homework.”

William nodded. “I know. But I like the background noise. I just want it to play while I do my homework. I’m not even really watching it.” It was believable, because he was focusing very harshly on his homework.

“Okay, William. I’ll let you sit in front of the TV while you do your homework if you can get 100% on your homework today. Then, if you can keep up that scoring, you can keep watching TV with your homework.”

“Okay Mom. Dad will check it when he gets home.”

“Actually, I think we’re both going to check it today. Your dad saw a lot of mistakes last night when you were doing your homework with him.”

William shrugged. “Okay. But Dad’s better at math then you.”

I didn’t say anything to that. He was in the third grade, I knew for a fact that whatever he was doing I could do just as well. But, there was no need to argue.

“Either way, I’ll be checking your homework as well as Dad. Besides, whatever you’re doing I can do easily. I still handle the house’s money.” William shrugged again.

I went back to the kitchen to keep reading. A few minutes passed by, and then I heard a rise in static coming from the TV. It was small at first, but it grew louder after just a moment before quickly cutting off into silence. Then, a regular theme song started playing.

I got up and walked over to the front room to find out what had happened. “William, what was that I just heard?”

William shook his head. “It was just some static. I changed the channel to one we didn’t have on accident. It’s no big deal.”

“Is your homework done?” I asked. William pointed to the floor, not taking his eyes of the television. I picked it up and took it into the kitchen. Half of the problems weren’t even done.

“William, you haven’t done half of your homework,” I informed him after walking back to the front room.

“I know, I was going to do the other half after one episode.”

“William, if you just did all of your homework, you wouldn’t have to split up your time watching TV at all. What’s gotten into you?”

“Don’t worry, mom. I’ll get it done just after this episode. I promise. It’ll be really good, too.”

***

“William, did you finish your chores that you needed to today?” I called from the kitchen.

“Yeah, Mom. They’re all done. I swept and did my homework.” William replied.

I couldn’t really believe that.

“Bring me your homework so that I can check it, William.” I laid down the magazine I was reading and looked toward the door into the living room.

“Alright, just let me get to a commercial break.” William said.

“Will, you can pause the TV because it’s on the DVR. Just pause it and bring me your homework.” Will knew he could pause the TV, because he had been told he could do that the first day we got it.

“Yeah, but I don’t want to miss anything! This is really important!” William called.

“You can rewind it, William.” He was really starting to get on my nerves at this point.

“Then I have to watch it all again!” Hearing that, I began to tap my fingers on the table.

“William, what could you be watching that’s so important?” I got up from my chair. I knew I could’ve have done this already, but I was trying to give William a chance to police himself. I didn’t think this would happen.

“It’s just cartoons mom, but I really need to watch it,” William said.

I shook my head, and walked into the living room. I learned then why William was being so defensive.

The TV was showing only in black and white. The image on the screen was also very blocky, as if they turned the person on TV into a video game character or something. Despite the blocky shades of grey, black, and white, I could still tell what was going on. A woman was being brutally murdered in greyscale, but the sounds were still of just regular Tom and Jerry. I even heard Tom’s iconic scream while in the kitchen.

“William! We need to turn this off right now!” I marched over to the TV, and did just that.

“Mom! No!” William shouted at me. He grabbed my arm and tried to pull me away from the TV. I let him hang onto my arm, because I could still use my other to unplug the DVR.

“Mom! What are you doing! I was watching that!” William hopped up, and tried to use his whole weight to pull me down.

“William, stop that this instant!” I shouted. His little nine-year-old body wasn’t heavy enough to stop me.

“He grunted with effort as he tried to pull me down.”

“William, do you have any idea what you were just watching? Whoever sold us that damned DVR is a maniac!” I pushed William off of my arm, and he fell down to the ground. He laid there for a second.

“William, we have to get rid of this thing. That was terrible. We aren’t going to test things like this ever again. We should have just waited for a proper TiVo, and not gotten this thing.” I turned away from William, and started to take the DVR off of our TV and unplugged all of its wires.

I heard William start to run away. I turned back, and saw a blur dash into the kitchen. “William, what are you doing? Your dad is still at work.” I left the DVR there, and then followed him into the kitchen. I heard a drawer open followed by clinking metal.

“William, what are you doing?” I turned into the kitchen, and saw William holding a small kitchen knife. He screamed and jumped at me. I lifted my arm to protect myself from the assault, and so that I could try to take the knife from him. There would be no way for him to really injure me. He only grabbed a steak knife.

I felt the small knife cut my left arm, then I used my right to grab him. I took the arm that held the knife, then used my cut arm to take it out of his hand. I saw my blood fall onto the floor as I moved it. Maybe he cut me just a bit worse than I thought.

“William! What has gotten into you! Why are you behaving this way?” William struggled to get out of my grip. I looked over at my cut arm. It was bleeding an amount, but didn’t really hurt. I think that the cut was long rather than deep.

William didn’t say anything, but instead stared away from me while he tried to get away.

“William, we’re going to just wait right here for Dad to get home, and then we’ll see what happens afterward. Does that sound proper?” Again, William said nothing.

So, we waited for his father. It had to have been at least fifteen minutes of me holding him, because the blood on my arm had dried and scabbed over by the time he opened the door.

“Good. You’re home. Hold onto William for me,” I said. He looked at the two of us, confused.

“I haven’t got all day. Come on now.” I motioned with my cut arm for Ethan to hold on to William. His eyebrows rose in surprise for a moment, but then he came over and held onto William. William was tired out, and so he had essentially stopped struggling.

I walked over to the sink and washed my arm clean. I was right about the cut not being very deep. It cleaned up really fast, and the scab looked like a very long cat scratch.

“Come on, William. You’re going to your room. Your mother and I have things to talk about.” Ethan carried William into the hallway door that connected to the kitchen, and presumably to his room.

Only a couple moments later, Ethan was back in the kitchen with me. “Jesus, Luanne. What happened?”

“You’re damned DVR happened! William was obsessed with it! Worse yet, he was watching some women get murdered on it! You told me that all of the prerecorded things were just cartoons, and that I didn’t need to worry! You were wrong!” I shouted at him.

“Oh. That’s awful. Alright, honey, I’m sorry. You were right. We’ll get rid of the DVR immediately. I’m so sorry about this. Next time, I’ll talk to you before I get something like this.” Ethan stood up and stretched. “I still feel so stiff from sitting at a desk all day, though.”

Then, we heard glass crash. The window had broken in the front room. We both froze.

We heard a grunt, something heavy fall, and then soft patting. I snapped out of the terror, and ran the front room.

The window for our front room had been broken. There was blood on one of the shards. I ran over, and threw the curtains aside. William was running away, with the DVR in hand. Carefully, I climbed out of the window after him.

“WILLIAM! GET BACK HERE!”

A car horn rang through the quiet evening. William stopped in the middle of the street, and looked over. A car swerved away from him.

It swerved straight towards me.

Off in the distance, I heard a door open. Oscar had finally gotten home. He worked in a warehouse, so his job was to just move boxes around, usually off of shelves and into trucks. Sometimes he moves them from one shelf to another, when he wants to spice things up.

“Hey, Persy. Do you know if we have a socket wrench?” Oscar asked.

“No idea. I haven’t used our tools in a few months, at least. You checked the garage and the shed thoroughly, right?” I replied.

“Yeah, about as thoroughly as I could manage without lying down and crying. I’ll go check the attic next, maybe it’s up there. Damn it, man.” With that, Oscar walked away from me.

I returned to simply reading. I had to write a report for a local paper, and I needed it done fast. They hadn’t given me a very good time frame, but they thought that I’d be perfect for it. My study was on how to properly handle domestic abuse and abusive relationships of various sorts. I’ve only ever had one such relationship, so I really wasn’t a font of knowledge in that field. But alas.

A few minutes later, Oscar came back downstairs. “Hey Persy, did you know that we have a to scale model of medieval armor? It’s tiny as all hell, but it’s all the dimensions are perfect. I think.”

“I’m pretty sure that armor is yours. I’ve never cared about the dark ages past childhood.”

Oscar squinted at me. “Fair point. I’m putting it in my room.” Oscar walked away once more.

I kept at my project. An abusive relationship can often be seen by the victim attempting to isolate themselves from others, or they’ll have signs of physical abuse. They may attempt to avoid eye contact. At times when they are confronted about their abuser, they will get defensive and angry about it, or they will try to avoid the topic altogether. There are many ways to tell if someone is in an abusive relationship, but most of them are incredibly subtle and can easily be missed by-

“Persy, you know that old news article you were trying to find, from when you were in the high school marching band? I found it!” Oscar proudly held up a newspaper, and waved it around.

“Good for you, Oscar. But I’m busy. I really need you to leave me be for a while so I can keep reading. This project has to be written by Thursday of next week, and I don’t even have a first draft,” I calmly spoke. Oscar placed the newspaper on the kitchen table across from me.

“Right. Sorry about that. I’ll let you be now, and I won’t bother you unless it’s important.” Oscar left me alone again. I hoped he’d keep up on his word.

A little while longer went by, before I decided to stop reading and cook dinner. As much as I wanted to keep reading and get things done, I wanted even more to just take a damned break. I had been sitting around and reading all day, and dinner time was time to stop. Finally.

I had taken out some chicken and some frozen vegetables, and I put them into pans to fry them both. I also set the table while I was at it. This went on for only a few minutes before Oscar came back down. He had let me be for at least an hour.

“Hey, Persy, what’s up with this photo?” Oscar asked me, holding out a photo for me.

I took it from him, and examined it. It was a photo of my dad holding a shotgun. He stared at the camera intensely. I didn’t remember the man for his smile.

“Where did you get this? What were you doing going through my shit?” I stuffed the photo in my pocket.

“You didn’t get mad about the newspaper. Look, it doesn’t matter. Seriously, this photo is kind of weird. Why do you have it?” Oscar took a seat at our kitchen table.

“It doesn’t matter. Just don’t go through my shit again, you get it? Things are put away for good reason,” I turned back to the stove and the dinner I was cooking.

“Sure dude. Usually that’s because you don’t have space for it but don’t want to throw it away. Like, for memories or something. You don’t seem to like that photo. Why didn’t you throw it away?” Oscar absently scraped a fork against a plate.

“I- it- why does it matter to you so much?” I flipped a chicken breast over in the pan.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry so much. I was just confused as to why you’d even keep something you hate around.”

“Whatever, man. Didn’t you need some tools to fix a thing?” I gave him a glance.

“I did, but I couldn’t find what I needed. I’ll have to just buy it tomorrow.” Oscar tapped a beat out on the table. “I found some other things up there, too. That wasn’t the only photo in the box, it was just the first really weird one I found.”

“I’ll go mark which boxes are mine, and then you can leave them alone. Some things don’t need to be remembered.” I threw some seasonings into the pan.

“Hey man, I’ll throw the stuff away for you if your conscious can’t handle the stress. You know, as a favor from one friend to another.” Oscar changed the beat he was tapping to one that was simpler and easier to follow. 1, 2, ah-3 and 4. 1, 2, ah-3 and 4.

“Don’t throw it away. It’s my stuff. I wouldn’t throw away your stuff.” I stirred the pan with fried vegetables around.

“Well, unless I asked you to. At least, I would hope you would. As a friend.” Oscar leaned back in his seat, tossing and catching his fork.

“Okay, fine, except in that case. Why are you pushing this so hard? Can’t we just change the topic?” I turned down the stove.

“Yeah, we can. That was just where the conversation was. Sorry to bother you so much.” Oscar may seem like a dick, but he did have good intentions.

“Look, I know that you’re trying to be nice in the best way you know how, but fuck off about it. It doesn’t matter, let’s just forget about it.” I sighed, and brought the pans to the table.

“I’m sorry, man, but this isn’t something you should brush past. I will, because I care about you, but this is just getting to me, man.” Oscar motioned for me to serve myself first. I did.

“It’s fine. How was work today for you, Oscar?” I sat down with my plate, and began to eat.

“Eh, same old bland stuff. I just moved boxes and listened to some podcasts and music and stuff. You?”

“I had today off, so I just cleaned and worked on my report. Cleaning’s gotta get done sometime.”

Oscar coughed and leaned forward. “Shit, right, I forgot it was my turn. Damn it, man. Well, thanks for that. I’ll have to cover you some other time.” He mumbled a few more expletives under his breath before stuffing a bite of food into his face.

“It’s fine, Oscar,” I smiled a shit-eating grin, “I’ll just go through your shit while you’re sleeping.” I started guffawing.

“Fuck, hell. Whatever, man, that’s fair. You win.” Oscar laughed, and we continued with our meal.

***

The next day, I got up and found an old journal out on the kitchen table. Oscar was asleep in the chair in front of it. I went to the table, quietly. There was a page that he had dog-eared. I picked up the journal and opened it.

XX/XX/200X

I took a secret photo of dad today. He was smiling for just a moment before I took the photo, and I was hoping to capture it. He noticed, though, just before the flash. All I got from him was an intense glare. And I got in big trouble. My back really hurts now, and I can’t go to sleep very well. I guess that means I shouldn’t try taking any more photos of him. I don’t get it, though. It’s like he wants me to forget him. Or maybe he wants me to remember him from pain. I don’t know, I guess it’s just who he is. I shouldn’t take anymore photos of him.

I stopped reading and closed the book. Oscar. He had gone through more of my stuff while I was asleep. I’m going to have his head when he gets home today.

I took the journal and put it back in the attic. This time I took my box with all of those old photos and journals and I placed them underneath other boxes, more recent ones that had been packed. Oscar wouldn’t go through boxes that had been put away by himself only a couple of weeks prior.

Either way, Oscar wouldn’t be home for a few hours, so I had time to keep reading and getting things done. I needed information for this report, and I think I was finally getting to a decent point to begin writing. I just wanted to read one more chapter of my book before going forward. Thus, I went to my office to do just that.

There are many warning signs for whether or not someone is abusive or not. One of the most telling signs I’ve found tends to be if someone was abused in their childhood. Children tend to pick up the behaviors of their parents/parent, and thus might go into adulthood believing that the behavior is proper, even if it really isn’t.

Now, while that might be one of the most common causes in my studies, it does not make it the only sign. Some other signs are: Cruelty to children/animals, jealousy, isolates others, blames others for their problems/feelings, and sudden mood swings. Commonly, these are some of the swiftest signs that a person is abusive.

The rest of this chapter will detail warning signs in greater detail, and a greater amount of them from here. However, you must remember that every circumstance is different and not every abusive individual will show these warning signs. However, they very likely will, and so you must watch out for them.

I continued reading that chapter until the very end. After about an hour and thirty sticky notes later, I was ready to begin a draft. Just the rough draft, though. It would still need refining after the fact. I wasn’t looking forward to that.

Either way, I took to it. It needed to get done, and I didn’t have all the time in the world to get this done.

I wrote for a few more hours, before Oscar finally returned. I heard the front door open off in the distance. I finished my sentence, then went out to greet Oscar. “Good to see you’re back, Oscar. I couldn’t help but notice that you still went through my stuff last night. You left an old journal on the kitchen table.”

Oscar swore. “Yeah, I did leave it there. I was reading it this morning, actually. I should’ve just taken it with me. Fuck.” He stepped inside, and put his stuff down in his room. He came back out. “Look, I’m really sorry, but you had me super worried. I couldn’t just let you keep hidden away like this. I’m not here to let you keep sitting on terrible memories like that. I’m here for you, and I just want to help.” Oscar’s arms were at his sides, palms facing towards me.

“Oscar. I did NOT ask for your help. I don’t need you help and I don’t need you to keep acting like you’re my keeper! Fuck off about this already! Jesus Christ, it’s almost like you don’t fucking listen! If you think I’m emotionally compromised, it’s because YOU keep running around and fucking with me!” I shouted at Oscar. He took a step back from me.

“Alright, I’ll stop. Look, you have the notebook. I can’t do anything else. I read the journal, and that’s all I know. You probably saw the page I bookmarked. I didn’t read anything past that.” Oscar’s eyes darted away for a second, before returning to me. “You just keep working on your project. I’m going to order some food in about an hour, and we can eat. No harm, no foul, right?”

I shook my head. “Get out of here, Oscar. I find you in my shit one more time, you’ll be homeless. You understand?” I turned my back towards Oscar, and walked away. He didn’t say anything else as he walked away.

I went into my office. I could try to keep writing, but I was too furious to do so. Instead, I picked the book back up and continued to read.

My advice to you, if you find yourself to be a victim in an abusive relationship, is to get help and get out. Talk to someone who you know can help you. If you don’t know of anyone who can do so, then contact the police. They are guaranteed to help you out and they will ensure that you can get back to a safe and healthy place, to their best ability.

If you have found yourself to be an abuser in an abusive relationship, then you should also get help. There is a solid chance that the person you are abusing still loves you, and you still love them. I doubt you want to cut the relationship off, but that might be the best option for both of you. I highly recommend you see a counselor to help you through these issues, and I would hope that your future holds more joy than it does now.

I continued the read the closing statements of the book. It was mostly just advice for how to get out and get help, along with some closing statements that made it known that nobody enjoys an abusive relationship.

Only moments later, I heard a scream. From below me. I leapt out of my seat, and rushed to the backyard. There was a hole dug in the ground. Fucking damn it.

Furious, I raced back into the house. I ran into my own bedroom, and tore my da- my shotgun out of its case. I placed one shot into each of its barrels. I took a few extra shells and pocketed them.

I then walked back outside and clambered into the hole. Inside, I saw a flashlight shining over a skeleton. Oscar held the light tightly in his hands. I couldn’t see his face, but he was staring at that skeleton for longer than I would have given him credit.

“I see you’ve found him, Oscar. It seems you skipped to the end of the notebook. I’m going to regret this,” I said.

Oscar spun around to face me. “PERSY!” He saw my shotgun. “Persy, you don’t have to do this. Please, Persy. Just think this through.”

I cocked the shotgun.

“Is that your dad, Persy? Did you shoot him and bury him in this crawlspace?” Oscar eyed my gun, but shook his head and looked up at me. He kept eye contact.

“Yes. It is. I didn’t think it had to be said.”

“Look, Persy, he was one of the worst people in your life. I get it. I know why you did it. I-” He faltered, “I still want to help you. Please, just put the gun away, and let’s get some food.” Oscar held one his hands out to me. He still kept his gaze in mine.

I said nothing.

“Look, I’ve learned my lesson. My curiosity is sated. We don’t have to talk about this again. Please, Persy.”

I raised the gun, and pointed it at him.

“Oh. This is happening, isn’t it. Oh god.”

Oscar fell to his knees and covered his face.

“Get up. Let’s go.”

Oscar pulled his hands off of his faces. His eyes were red and moist.

“You’re buying dinner. Come on, let’s go.”

“It has come to my attention that you have expressed an intense dislike of my profession, and others within my profession. A slight phobia is natural, but a great loathing like yours is not.”

“…”

“So is that how it is going to be? Look, I’ll give you another chance to reply. It’s always better that way.”

“…”

“Do you still refuse to speak? Implorable! I have you in as a guest to help you overcome your negative feelings, and this is how you treat me? Do you treat all doctors in this fashion?”

“…”

“Answer me!”

“…”

“If you don’t speak up, I will have to use the needle again. You’re already getting dangerously low on bone marrow.”

“I’m not afraid of doctors. Just you.” God, I hope he doesn’t hurt me.

“…” Why has he stopped talking?

“Please don’t take more of me…” I whispered feebly.

“…” His silence was starting to unnerve me. Did he feel the same when I was silent?

“I respect your job, I just don’t respect what you do with your degree.” I already knew flattery wouldn’t get me anywhere.

“…” I so terribly wish I could see the chap’s face right now.

“Please, doctor. I just want to go home.” Pleading never did anything, either.

“…” I so terribly wish this blindfold didn’t itch and scratch my eyes.

“Doctor, please. Get help, for both of us.” I thought that there might have been some off chance that even if he killed me, he might still get arrested and executed. I know he was once a swell fellow, but something pushed him over the edge.

Then, I heard footsteps move away from me, before a door opened and closed. He was getting his needles again, and he planned to take more of me. I wasn’t going to let that happen this time! I was ready this time, and I knew how to escape my bindings.

I shuffled my hands back and forth against one another, eventually loosening the knot that was tied, and the soft rope keeping my hands behind the chair I was confined to fell off. I reached an arm up, and tore off the blindfold. Then, I moved along to the bindings on my feet, and then I stood.

I expected to fall down, from weakness, but I didn’t. I was still standing, and I felt refreshed. Maybe it was adrenaline. Maybe it wasn’t my place to question the circumstances.

I tried to gather a short look at the room, and take in as much as possible. I had no idea when he would be back, and I had no idea how long I had been trapped with him. It was at this point I also realised I was surprised the sudden light hadn’t hurt my eyes.

The room was empty, besides the chair I had been tied to. I stepped toward the door, and my footsteps were heavier than I remembered. There was no way I could just quietly get out of here. If he came too close, I would certainly have to stop moving and hide.

I continued my loud paces towards the door. Upon further inspection, I realised that the door was still slightly cracked open.

I placed a hand onto the cold steel, and slowly pushed the door open. My eyes were then rapidly put back into their place, being overwhelmed by sunlight.

A few closed moments later, I reopened my eyes, and they adjusted much better. I could see well enough at that point to tell that the hallway I was standing in was empty.

I looked out of the window, and noticed I was a few stories above the ground. I was at least three or four stories up, but I wasn’t quite sure. I must have lost some depth perception when I lost my right eye.

From here, I can either go left or right. There’s no way I’m hopping out of that window.

I chose to go left. That meant I was going right from the door’s perspective.

Each step was slow and agonising. Each step was loud and noticeable. Each step stung and felt like a dozen pine needles were jamming up my leg. Christ, now I specify the type of needle I’m feeling.

I followed the hallway until I found stairs that led downward. In all reality, I was constantly asking myself ‘who in their right mind would abandon a fully functional hospital like this, while also leaving behind so many functioning medical supplies?’

Once I reached the stairs, I placed a leg onto the next step, and I felt my leg attempt to give way. That meant that walking down the stairs normally wasn’t an option. Thus, I sat at the top step, and dragged my butt onto the next step. Then I did that again. And again.

I eventually got to the last step that would lead me to the conveniently labeled second floor, and then pulled myself down to it. I reached up for the railing, and used it to pull myself up to my feet.

I took a tentative step. Realising, I was fine, I began to walk back over to the second set of stairs, that would lead me to the first floor.

“I KNOW YOU’VE LEFT! YOU HAD BETTER GET BACK UP HERE BEFORE I HAVE TO PUNISH YOU WORSE THAN BEFORE, GIRL!” His voice tore through the intercom system, and shredded its way into my ears. I felt warmth rush into my face. There was no way I could get away from him faster than he could catch me. I needed to hide.

I was glad I had stood up, because that would make it easier to open up a patient room, and put myself into a closet. Assuming there still were closets.

Wincing at the volume of my feet constantly slamming the ground, I opened an unsurprisingly unlocked door, let myself in, and proceeded to hide in the nearest cupboard. I’m not sure why I thought closet. Cupboards are so much more prevalent in hospitals.

“You know that you won’t get away from here. I’ll check every room and every cabinet if I have to, you are not getting out of here,” he said through the intercom. I honestly prefered his actual anger to this sing-song voice he was using.

I held my breath. I could make it out of here alive. I just needed to avoid being caught.

I waited in that closet for maybe twenty seconds before I started breathing again. My heart was pounding the entire time.

After what seemed like years, I finally decided to leave the closet. I hadn’t heard him speak over the intercom in a while, and I hadn’t heard his footsteps at all, either.

I pushed open the closet doors, then stood up. My legs felt much more stable this time. Maybe that meant that I could actually walk down the stairs.

I tentatively stepped toward the door. This was going to be how I escaped. I would walk down the stairs as quickly as possible, and rush away the moment I was on the ground floor. I would try to find a police officer, and I would do whatever I needed to to get that guy put away.

I opened the door just a crack. I peeked through, and looked out into the hallway. There was no one there. I’m safe. Thank god.

I pushed the door open the rest of the way, and walked back towards the stairs. I’m glad I hadn’t gone too far from them.

“No no no!” I was grabbed from behind. There were hands on my throat. I couldn’t breathe. I reached up and tried to pry the hands away. I still wasn’t strong enough.

I felt something sharp poke at the back of my thigh. A needle? A knife? It doesn’t matter, just grab it and stop him!

I reached down toward the sharp thing, and tried to grab it. It was in his pocket. I had to reach in if I wanted it. Just avoid the urge to breathe.

I tried to stuff my hand into his pocket, but he let go of my throat with one of his hands, and grabbed my hand. “I wouldn’t dare let you touch that.”

I could breathe at least. I took a deep breathe, then broke away from his other hand. I turned around to look at him.

He was a tall man, probably in his forties. He was clearly fit. He wore green scrubs, like the stereotypical surgeon, and a face mask covering his nose and mouth.

He roared at me, then jumped at me. I put up my hands in self defense, and he jabbed his needle into my palm. I was greeted with the sharp end of a needle poking out of the back of my hand. It was surprisingly large, but not large enough to avoid breaking off into my hand!

“Hell!” I tore my hand away, and heard metal snap. I could still feel the needle inside of my hand.

“This could have been so much easier,” he muttered, almost to himself rather than me.

“You’re bat-shit crazy!” I tried to ignore the needle.

“I have spent eight years in school learning to diagnose things like that. Tell me something prolific next time.” Despite the fact that most of his face was obscured, I could still see the rage in his eyes.

“Do you know how sharp scalpels are?” he asked me.

“Let’s not do this right now,” I said, clearly and precisely.

“There’s no time like the fucking present!” He leapt at me, with a scalpel suddenly yet unsurprisingly in his hand.

“Hell!” I dove aside, and put my hands out to break my fall. I noticed the needle still stuck in my hand, and regretted the choice before landing.

I landed, and felt an even sharper pain force itself into my hand. I caught a glimpse of the needle, and it didn’t look well.

“What kind of doctor would I be if I didn’t take care of my patients?” I stood up, and tore the needle out of the back of my hand. My hand bled. I think it missed my bones, because otherwise it would have broken on them. I hope, anyway.

He stepped toward me again, holding his scalpel with confidence. I didn’t want to test the strength of that scalpel.

“Quit running and die, whore!” He leaped toward me again, and tried to cut me with the scalpel. I stepped aside, narrowly avoiding his slash. He stood behind me. “I’m not even a woman!” I shouted.

“Not yet you aren’t!” he replied, and I felt a liquid run down my thigh, followed by even more pain.

“Fuck!” I fell to the ground; my injured leg had collapsed beneath me. I felt the pain become more acute than before.

“Looks like you won’t be standing for a while. Perfect. What kind of surgery will I perform on you now?” The doctor was standing above me. “Don’t go anywhere, I have to get a new needle. I still enjoy the idea of taking bone marrow.”

He walked away.

I had to do something. I couldn’t just lie here and die.

I dragged myself back into the room I was hiding in, and found some gauze in a drawer. I tore my pants off of the beaten leg, took the scalpel out of it, then wrapped my my leg tightly with gauze.

I stood up. My leg wasn’t holding up very well. I could only limp around. If only I had a crutch.

I picked up the bloodied scalpel. It was going to be my way out of here.

I stepped out of the room, and limped to where I had been standing before. He didn’t want me to move, so I wasn’t going to.

There was a small trail of blood from where I had been stabbed, leading into the room I bandaged myself in.

“Perfect, you’ve already helped yourself. That will save me some time. I’m glad you’ve decided to be compliant, finally. Come.” He started to walk past me, and he did so rather slowly. He must have expected that I would move slower myself. I limped a bit faster, attempting to catch up to him.

“I honestly thought you would fall after that first step. I’m glad you proved me wrong. Don’t push yourself too hard, however. I wouldn’t want to harm any more of your precious tissues.

Seriously, an entire empty hospital that still has all of its supplies. What the hell?”

I kept moving quickly, and I slowly caught up to him. He didn’t see the weapon I had flattened and hidden within my palm. That was just what I needed.

He stopped and opened a door. That was the break I needed. He turned, and motioned for me to walk in. A second later, his throat was spewing ochre onto me and the surrounding floor.

He gurgled, and slowly fell to the ground, attempting to cover his throat with his hands.

“I guess we did find out how strong scalpels are, after all.” His face turned to face the ground, and then he fell. Blood pooled around his corpse. It was a mess. I think I might have thrown up from the smell, or maybe the mental toll, or perhaps my injuries caught up to me.

I took slow, deliberate steps out of the hallway, down the stairs, and eventually out of the hospital. As luck would have it, there was an officer driving past at that very moment. He stopped when he saw me.

“PUT YOUR HANDS WHERE I CAN SEE THEM!” I did as he demanded. I didn’t expect his voice to blare through a megaphone, however.

“STAY WHERE YOU ARE.” The officer stepped out of the car, and walked toward me.

“Officer, thank god you’re here. There’s some madman in there! He tried to kill me!” The officer looked me up and down.

“I see. How did you get away?” He put his hand on his chin, as if considering me. I was still bleeding, so maybe he was admiring my impromptu bandages?

“Well, I… I had to kill the pyscho to get away. I wish I could say I feel bad, but you can see what he did to my leg. I’ll probably need stitches.” I motioned at my leg, for effect.

“Turn around for me, will you?” I complied to the officer’s request, and felt metal slap onto my wrists.

“Wait, what? What’s going on?”

“You’re under arrest for the murder of Doctor Macmillan.”

“Hold on, murder? He tried to kill me!” I squirmed in his arms. He simply started dragging me toward his car.

“Sure, but you succeeded. That’s why you’re getting arrested.”

“That’s not fair!”

“Too bad Macmillan had connections. You don’t.” Before I could get out another word, the officer stuffed me into the back of his car. I never heard his voice again.

New York is always loud at night, but I always found a certain peace walking the dark corners of the city so late. I know that it’s dangerous for a small girl like myself to just walk about dim alleys at this time of day, but I’ve always found it enjoyable.

Tonight, however it was just depressing. As I wandered through my familiar paths, admiring the graffiti and street art that people left about, I felt alone. I suddenly longed for someone’s company, no matter who that might be.

I took my phone out of my pocket, and scrolled through my contacts. There had to be someone I knew who I could call to come out and walk with me. They might enjoy it as well.

I stopped my phone on one particular number. Clarisse. She was always up late at night, and constantly slept in past noon. As long as she retains a good work schedule, she’ll be fine. I tapped the call button, then held the phone up to my ear. I kept meandering down the street.

A few tones later, I was greeted by a voice telling me she was unavailable, and to leave a message at the beep. I sighed, and hung up the phone. It looked like I would have to walk alone again tonight. Maybe I should plan ahead next time?

With that in mind, I continued along my barren path. I just need to persevere a little longer, and then things will turn out better. Right?

Sighing frequently, I just carried on. Thinking about how drab things are isn’t the worst thing I could do, and sometimes you need a little introspection to put yourself in order. I think.

Then, I heard coughing in an off alleyway. I was startled at first, but quickly regained my composure and looked into the alley. There was a battered young man facing away from me, and also at a dead-end wall. He wasn’t too poorly dressed, so I knew he wasn’t homeless. I wasn’t sure what it was that he was doing.

“Excuse me, sir? Are you alright?” I spoke at him a little loudly, so that I could be sure he heard me. However, he made no notion that he had heard me. I pulled a small knife out of my pocket, and held it at the ready, just in case. I’d heard stories of sociopaths who would lure people, especially girls, into alleys and then murder them. I wasn’t going to let that happen, but this fellow still confused me.

“Sir, are you alright?” He kept coughing, but didn’t make any other movement.

“Um…” I took another couple of steps toward him. I could clearly see that his hands were empty, so he couldn’t beat me down with some weapon. Most likely.

A moment later, the man turned to face me. His eyes were glowing orange, as if they were burning iron. The veins in his face supported that same glowing color scheme, but his skin was deathly pale. I gasped and put one hand over my mouth.

He stumbled toward me, and started to slowly arch his back backwards. After a couple of steps, his torso faced the sky, and I was surprised his legs were keeping him stable. I took a few steps backward, keeping some distance between us. Although, if he tried to run towards me, I could easily outpace his weird steps.

I held my knife at the ready. This guy was some kind of ghost, and I had to deal with him. This isn’t how I had planned this walk to go.

He took a couple more steps towards me, and I took one step more than him backwards. “Okay bud, I’m just going to leave you to your death, and head out. Okay with you?”

Apparently it wasn’t because then his rib cage burst open. There was no blood, however. Even though I could see his pristine and white bones, I could only see a black emptiness within his chest. I had spent countless amounts of bored hours online reading about demons, and had never heard about something like this.

“Shit!” I shouted, and I turned around to escape. I hadn’t taken more than a step before I had heard sounds of water splashing loudly. No, not quite water. It was something heavier than water. I took a scared look back, and witnessed something climb out of the man’s chest. It first reached one hideous and black hand out, grabbed the side of the open rib cage, then did the same with the its other arm. It then lifted itself out of the man’s chest, and stood- or maybe sat- up from within the man.

The demon was just as black as the open chest, and it looked two dimensional, even while it was moving. It’s hard to perceive depth within direct blackness. Its silhouette was jagged and messy, and it shook constantly and blinked frequently. It extend at least ten feet out from the man, and that was while it still sat inside of him at the waist. Its arms were around the same length as the creature itself, and hung next to the man’s thighs.

The demon also had the same shade of orange within its own eyes, and inside of its gaping and raw mouth. It opened its mouth, then screamed at me.

I shook off my shock, then bolted out of the alleyway. I looked back a few seconds later, and saw the man’s legs shuffling out of the alley. It looked as if the beasts reach didn’t matter because of the small and weak legs. I slowed to a fast walk, but continued my escape of the creature. This was a fine time to catch my breath.

I kept up my pace for a few minutes, then turned to look behind me once more. The demon was gone. It had either given up on chasing me, or it had disappeared, because of its summoning restrictions or something.

I leaned against the wall, and was satisfied to simply breath. That had been more excitement than I had ever wanted in the first place. I only wish that someone else had been with me to see that beast.

I leaned against a wall, pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and finally took in a long breath. I didn’t smoke very often.

I savored every breath that I took of that cigarette before deciding to leave. I tossed the cigarette to the ground, and stamped it out. In its last moments, I couldn’t help but notice how similar its orange glow was to the man’s and the demon’s orange.

I rubbed my foot on the cigarette a little extra, out of spite, then wiped the ashes off of my shoe. “Good riddance, you beast.”

I stretched my arms upward, yawned, and took a couple of steps away. I heard a loud crash. Panicked, I turned around and saw a black shape formed out of a man’s chest.

“Hell!” I screamed as I scrambled to get away. I had taken maybe one step before the beast had grabbed me with one of its large hands and began to pull me towards it. It turned me to face it. I was breathing rapidly, and struggling to get away. My eyes glanced up from its hand, and at its face. The moment It knew I was looking, it grinned.

The demon lifted me above its head, and sunk back into the chest at an agonising pace.

I shrieked, and my high tone pierced through the night without a reply.

The demon kept its shit-eating grin on its face the whole way down. I saw its glowing eyes disappear into the abyss, followed quickly by its smile. The last thing I saw before I was completely submerged in black was the face of the man. I reached out to touch him, but I was gone before I had the chance to have one last human touch.

***

“For the longest time, the most terrifying thing about this purgatory was the loneliness I felt. The only sound I knew was the sound of my own voice.”

“That sounds terrible. I hate to seem selfish, but I suppose I’m glad someone fell in here before I did. I would have gone mad being here on my own. At least now I have someone to talk to.”

“That’s only if I don’t die in here. I don’t know how long it’s been.”

“Funny. I don’t remember the date. I think it was someday in mid April?”

“I couldn’t tell you.”

“I suppose it’s all the same either way.”

“You know, the last thing I tried to do before falling down in here was touch the man’s face. Can you believe that? I had only moments to live, yet my last living thought was to touch the thing consuming me.”

“You must have been lonely. I’ve read theories about what the last thing people do before they die means.”

“…”

“Are you still alive?”

“I think you might be right. Maybe I was lonely.”

“Well, you won’t be anymore. At least, for a while.”

“Do you think we could shake hands, or hug, or something?”

“Um…”

“Maybe we could swim toward each other? I know that there’s some atmosphere or something, because we can breathe. That means we could use the air resistance a little bit, right?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you have a phone? You could shine it, and then I could see you and go towards you! I’d take mine out too, but I’m pretty sure it’s dead!”

“I’ll- I’ll try.”

“Perfect!”

“…”

“Anything?”

“I don’t think so. I can’t see anything, but I know I did it right.”

“Oh… That’s okay! I can just follow the sound of your voice! Keep speaking at me!”

“Um, alright, I suppose. Do you really think this will work?”

“Do you have a better plan?”

“I mean, not really, but-”

“Then just keep talking until I find out whether this works or not!”

“I really don’t think you have any idea what you’re doing…”

“Keep going!”

“I think that you’re just desperate at this point. Have you ever heard of that theory that claims that if you are alone for too long, you’ll create personalities and place them onto objects? How do you know I’m not just a voice you created?”

“I don’t!”

“Then why are you so insistent?”

“I trust you!”

“You can’t trust a stranger so easily! What if when- if!- you get to me, I just try to kill you?”

“It’s better than what I have now!”

“This isn’t going to work!”

I stopped. His voice was behind me suddenly. It never passed either of my sides, it was just suddenly behind me.

“Speak again.”

“Is this really want you want to do? Chase down a fever dream as if he is a reality?”

“You aren’t fake!”

“Says the crazy person desperate for someone else! You’re irrational”

I’m not irrational…

“You’ve gone crazy!”

I haven’t gone crazy…

“Then prove it!”

My throat was hoarse, and my arms were tired.

I think I just want to take a short nap. Goodnight, Vox.

“Goodnight, I suppose.”

I put one foot in front of the other, and walked home. I really like that phrase. It’s nice. I like to use it whenever I can.

Either way, that was exactly what I was doing. It was Friday, school was over, and my twelfth birthday was this Sunday. I was going to go home and clean up so that we could have a really good party on Saturday, so that we could still go to church on Sunday.

I found a small rock and kicked it around for a couple of blocks, before I ended up kicking it into the road. I wish I had had a friend to talk with while we walked to our houses. Maybe we would live right next to each other, and become best friends! We could spend every night together, and hop over each others fences to grab things from our houses. That would be the best!

Eventually, I got home. I stepped inside, kicked off my shoes, then took off my jacket and hung it up. “Mama, Pop, I’m home!” Most kids call their parents just mom and dad, but I wanted to be cool and different, so I called them Mama and Pop. They seem to like it, too.

“Come upstairs, Jon, I’m in the kitchen,” Mama yelled out to me. I rushed up each step, and hurried into the kitchen.

“Perfect, you’re just in time to lick the cake batter off of the whisk,” Mama handed me the whisk. I thanked her, and did just as she suggested.

“Pop isn’t home quite yet, he went to go get some party supplies,” Mama went to the oven, and turned a knob. ‘Preheating’ is what she calls that. It’s when you let the oven get hot before you try to cook anything.

“That’s okay, Mama. I’ll say hi to him once he gets back,” I took another big lick off of the whisk.

Mama smiled at me. “That sounds fine, Jon. We’ll be heading to the store to get dinner once the oven is preheated and the cake is baking. It shouldn’t take us any longer than an hour, but that’s only if traffic is really bad.”

I nodded at her, with the whisk still close to my mouth.

“I think you should also clean your room while we’re gone. You’re going to get presents, and I think it will be good if you have some extra space to put them.” Mama put her hand on my shoulder, and guided me to the table. We both took a seat.

“I cleaned my room last week, though,” I protested. It was true; I had cleaned my room last week, and I did it well, too.

“I know, sport, but your closet is really jammed up with stuff. Really, it’s just your closet that you need to clean. I don’t think it’ll be that bad, you’ll just get rid of some clothes that you don’t use and toss out some things you haven’t played with for a long time, and don’t think you will for even longer.” Mama was right. I did still have clothes that didn’t fit me in that closet, and I did have some toys that I hadn’t played with in years.

“Alright, Mama. I’ll go clean up my closet after Pop comes back.” I stood up from my chair, and put the whisk in the sink after rinsing it off.

“That sounds fine, Jon.” Mama stood up after me so that she could put the cake in the oven. The oven usually preheats really fast, so Mama doesn’t have to wait long when she preheats things.

Then, because I’m really lucky, I heard the door open from a distance. Pop was home.

“Pop!” I ran over to greet him. He worked in a big, fancy business, so he always wore suits to work. He looked fine in suits, but I think he looked even better in jeans. Jeans are really comfy.

“Hey, buckaroo, how are you doing?” Pop said while he picked me up and tossed me onto his shoulder.

“Pop, I’m getting too big for this. I’m going to hurt your shoulder! I’m too wide!” I tried to climb off of him, but Pop grabbed me and put me down.

“You’re probably right, kiddo. I just don’t remember when you got so big. You’re almost twelve! That’s crazy!” Pop took my hand, and we walked up to the kitchen.

“Yup. Twelve is almost as old as you are, Pop!” Once we got into the kitchen, I hopped onto a chair again and swung my legs.

“I’m not so sure. Thirty-six is three times the age of twelve,” Pop replied. I made angry-eyebrows at him. He just laughed. “Sorry, but you can’t fight facts.”

Mama stood up then. “Well, we’d best get going. It’d be bad if we didn’t have anything for dinner tonight.” She then grabbed her purse and Pop, and started to head out. “Make sure you clean your closet, son!” She shouted at me from the door.

“Will do, Mama!” After they left, I went down into the basement so that I could clean my room. Well, my closet mostly.

I walked into my room, and opened up my closet. It was filled with all sorts of toys and clothes. It also had my guitar that I practiced with every other day, and a few other things. First, I took everything out of the closet and spread it all over the floor. That would make it easier for me to sort out what I should keep and what I shouldn’t.

After clearing out the closet, I sat down in the center of the pile. This was going to take a while. I started sorting things into two piles: things to keep and things that I wouldn’t keep. There were a lot more things that I wouldn’t keep than I would.

After a time, I felt like I had finally sorted through both piles. I didn’t know how long it would take me, but I imagined that Mama and Pop would be home soon. In the meantime, I needed to put away my things back in the closet.

That’s when I noticed a strange little door sitting inside of the closet that I didn’t remember. I thought about it really hard for a few moments, but then I realised that I didn’t have that door when we first moved in. When was it added? Was it while I was on vacation? If so, why did no one tell me about it?

This was perfect! I could put some of my old stuff into that new closet and have extra storage space! I wouldn’t have to throw anything away.

I hopped to my feet, and leaped over to this small door, and opened it up. I crawled into it, and started looking around.

There were dolls all over the wall. There were plastic dolls that looked like Ken, there were porcelain dolls, which were easily the creepiest ones, there were wooden dolls that hung stiffly, and there were even a few dolls made out of metal. I suddenly didn’t want to put my things into this closet.

Then, in the center of this candle lit room, I saw a woman stooped over a table. Her hands were moving furiously. I gasped at the sight of her.

Suddenly, she stopped and turned to look at me.

“Alex… Alex, is that you?” She stood up from the table. She was wearing a red dress that was torn in many places, and had a few patches of blue. The biggest patch of blue was on her right leg. Or was it her left?

“Alex, come here!” She rushed toward me, and picked me up. I wanted to scream, but she covered my mouth.

“God, Alex, I was worried I’d never see you again.” She put me down in a chair, and tied my arms to it.

“MAMA! HELP ME!” I screamed as loudly as I could.

“Sh sh sh… Don’t worry, Alex. I just want us to be together again. We’ll be a family once more.” She started to play with my hair.

“M-m-my name is Jonathon,” I managed to say. “I don’t know anyone named Alex.”

“Oh, Alex, is that what the kids at school told you? Look at all of these dolls! Don’t they look like you? Don’t you like them, Alex?” She held my hands, and I looked around desperately.

I looked around at the dolls, secretly scared. I couldn’t let her see my fear. The dolls did have a similarity to each other, but none of them looked like me. Most of them looked like they could be another boy, but I didn’t know that boy.

“No, miss, they don’t look like me. Their hair is too long, and too dark. Also, I have green eyes and theirs are brown. My name is Jon. Please let me go, miss.”

“What about this one, Alex? I was just making it before you came in. Doesn’t this one look just like you?” The lady pulled the doll off of the table that she had been at before. The doll was made out of what looked liked sewn together shirts and jeans. It was messy, and didn’t look as clean as some of the other dolls. Its eyes were just small holes torn into the fabric, and it didn’t have any hair yet.

“Miss, that doll doesn’t look like me. It looks-”

“Oh! Of course it doesn’t look like you! It’s missing something!” She crawled over to the table where she had it, grabbed something, put it on the doll, then came back to me. The doll now had a full head of hair. “Here we are! It was missing its hair! Isn’t this better?” As she spoke, she shook the doll around in her hands. Every time it was shaken, the hair would fall off, and she would stick it back on.

I took in a deep breath, and collected all of my courage. “Miss! Listen! Your dolls aren’t bad, but they don’t look like me.”

She stood up and stared at me. Her dress was dry and stiff in the places where it was red.

“Alex. I worked hard on these dolls,” Her stare was scaring me, and I wanted to cry. “Are you going to sit there and insult my hard work? The details, don’t matter, but they are you Alex!” She leaned back down toward me.

“I think I could give you some longer hair,” She said that, then took the hair off of the doll in her hands and put it on my head.

“I don’t think that’s enough.” She quickly grabbed a doll off of the wall and tore out its hair and placed the hair on my head. She threw the doll away, and I heard it shatter.

“There. That’s better. Isn’t that better, Alex?” She grabbed my hands and held on desperately. I felt hot tears roll down my cheeks.

“Please, miss. My name is Jon.”

“Alex… Jon. You aren’t Alex. Are you sure?” She stared at me. Her eyes looked empty, and it felt like she was looking through me.

I nodded, still crying.

She sighed. “Alex, I’m going to let you out of the chair. I want you to hug your mother, like a good boy would.” She did as she said, and started to untie my arms.

“There you go, poor dear. Now come hug me.” I stood up, wiped tears off my my face, then ran past her. I looked back, and saw the lady limping after me.

While, I wasn’t looking, I ran into a wall and fell on my butt. I looked up at the wall, and saw something crazy. I stopped my sniffles, and simply admired the doll on the wall. It was made of porcelain, and it almost looked like a real boy. I could have easily pretended that this doll was my younger brother or something.

“Alex!” I shouted. I figured out what the doll was. I looked back at the lady. She was still limping after me.

“Yes! Alex, that’s you!” She smiled at me, got on a knee, and held her arms open for me.

I pulled the doll off of the wall.

“Alex, what are you doing?”

I lifted the doll above my head.

“ALEX! DON’T YOU DARE!”

I threw the doll onto the ground, and it shattered. I saw its face break into a million pieces. One of its eyes didn’t break, and it sat on the ground and faced me.

“Alex! It’s going to take me weeks to fix that doll!” She stood up, and started to limp towards me again.

“Miss! I’m not Alex! My name is Jon! JON!” I was angry now, and I knew that she couldn’t run as fast as me. There was no way that she could get me if I decided to run off.

“Alex, you will not get away with this. You are going to be in a lot of trouble.” Her head started twitching. I felt a lot less brave.

“Miss, I’m still not Alex. My name is still Jon…” My voice got quieter with every word.

“Alex…” She sounded angry and threatening. My eyes got blurry. I didn’t want to be there anymore. I made my feet push me forward, and I ran past.

At least, I tried to run past her, but she managed to grab me again and hold me in one arm.

She held me in front of her and looked at me. Her eyes stared into my eyes. I looked away, and my vision got even blurrier. I held my breath, so that she couldn’t hear me cry. “You aren’t Alex. I can’t make you Alex.” I looked up at her, and wiped the tears out of my eyes so that I could see her face. I wish I hadn’t.

“Then I don’t want you here!” She threw me away from her.

Everything began to move slowly for me. I saw how angry the lady was. I saw the blue of her dress swirl with the red. I felt the wall hit my back, and I felt it crumble behind me. I saw my legs flailing forward and I saw dolls slide off of my skin, pelting me and breaking once they hit the floor.

Then, the tiny closet was in front of me, and there was a large hole in my closet that led into that room. I felt my back hit another wall. I fell to the floor. At least I’m not in the chair anymore.

I looked up at the lady, but she was no longer in the tiny room. I felt my eyes close.

“Mama…” the word left my lips, and I fell asleep.