Thursday, March 24, 2022

The Nights Are Long Here

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Participate in a possession live. Not a joke. Only serious inquiries. Must be available in the Portland area between May 12th and May 15th. Email REDACTED for more information.


Below the ad, which I’d found on a slip of paper tucked between the napkin holder and the ketchup at the sandwich shop I ate at sometimes, someone had doodled in pencil. Or maybe it was better than just a doodle—I could see clearly what it was, after all.

A dragonfly.


Three days later I was walking to my car when I heard a woman scream at me from across the parking lot.

“Bastard! You fucking bastard!”

I turned and looked at her bewildered, my eyes going in every direction as I searched for some other explanation than a stranger yelling at me for no reason. But it was early on a Sunday and the lot was empty except for us. Besides, she was walking toward me fast, her eyes red-rimmed and teeth bared…and strange as it was to think it, I knew she wanted to kill me. I could see it like a dark cloud behind her eyes, thunderbolts of ill intent and violence darting this way and that in the black of her mind. I didn’t want to hurt her, so instead I tried to decide if I could make it into the grocery story before she intercepted me or if I was better off just getting back in my car.

Looking her way again made the decision easy—she was running at me now. I slammed my car door shut just a second before she banged against it, her fingers splayed on either side of a face that might usually be friendly and pleasant, but now seemed hard and burning with a kind of hatred I’d never seen before. There were black lines on the palms of her hands, possibly writing, but she was moving too quickly for me to tell for sure. Eyes locking with mine, she curled her hands into fists as she snarled.

“Come out of there you little thief! Come out so I can rip it the fuck out of you!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, lady! You’re crazy!”

I was already backing out of the parking spot, careful to not turn so fast that I hit her as I got the front of the car out enough to go forward and drive away. She chased me to the street, but when I peeled out of the lot she seemed to give up, standing at the edge of the street flipping me off as I stared in my rearview, heart pounding and hands shaking.

I tried to tell myself it was just because of the strangeness of getting attacked, but that wasn’t all of it. It had also been the last thing she’d screamed after me when I began driving away. I’d been distracted and hadn’t heard the whole thing, but one word had been clear enough.

Dragonfly.


“But you’re telling me you didn’t even take the ad with you, right? Or email the people?”

I rolled my eyes at Debbie, and when I replied, my voice was harsh and loud. “Of course not. I ate my sandwich and left. Why the hell would I want to email some weirdos or get involved in some scam?”

She raised her hands defensively. “Okay, okay. Just asking, Jesus.”

Sighing, I shook my head. “No, I’m sorry. I’m just still freaked out.”

Patting my leg, she nodded. “I get it. But I mean, it’s just a weird coincidence, right? Has to be.”

I shrugged. “I guess, but it didn’t feel like that. You didn’t see her. When I say I think she wanted to kill me, I’m not being melodramatic. She seemed full-on crazy.” Frowning, I forced myself to say the thing I’d been thinking about since that morning when the woman jumped me. “Maybe…and I know this sounds far-fetched…but maybe she’s the one that left the ad at the sandwich place? She could have planted it, waited for someone to read it, and then followed me.”

I could see the skepticism in her eyes, but she thought it over a minute before answering. “I mean, it’s not impossible. I just don’t see why. That’s a lot of trouble to track you for days just to stage some kind of freak out.”

I nodded as I heard Debbie’s phone buzz. “Yeah, you’re right. Of course, if she’s crazy, it doesn’t have to make sense, does it?”

“I…I just love you so much, you know?”

I blinked and looked up at her in confusion. “Um, yeah I know. I love you too. But what…”

She blushed and glanced back down at her phone. “Ah, wait, I…No, it doesn’t have to make sense. And there’s a lot of crazies out there these days.”

I stared at her. What was wrong with her? Was she just more freaked out than she was letting on? Leaning over, I gave her hand a squeeze. “Don’t worry about it. It’s over now and I’m okay.”

She gripped my hand and nodded, visible relief spreading across her face.

“I…I just love you so much, you know?”


That afternoon I went to a movie by myself. I didn’t care what it was. I just didn’t want to be home with Debbie or around anyone. I felt raw and exposed, and the odd way she was acting wasn’t helping. She seemed hurt that I didn’t invite her along, but I reminded her she was supposed to be babysitting her little brother later in the afternoon anyway. This seemed to mollify her somewhat, and I promised to be home and cooking dinner by the time she got back from her mom’s.

Sitting in the cool darkness of the theater was soothing. Far as I could tell, I was the only one even there, and it made me feel safe, hidden, in a way I couldn’t quite explain. Everything just felt off to me, like I was moving through a funhouse where the walls and floors, the ceilings and doors, were all skewed just enough to be disorienting. It was probably just left over trauma from dealing with the crazy woman, but…

“You think you deserve it, you rotten little fuck?”

I jumped in my seat at the harsh whisper on my right. I turned to look for the source, but the screen went dark as I did so, killing my sight even as I heard the rough male voice again somewhere behind my seat.

“We spend our lives preparing for this, earning this, and you think you can just come in and take it from us?”

Heart pounding, I stood up, my legs bumping against the backs of the seats behind me as I started blindly scooting out toward the aisle. I had to get out of here, and I definitely didn’t need to get trapped in one of the r…

“Fuck this. Enough talk. Just get him.”

This voice was farther away and toward the front of the theater—it sounded older and softer, but with a strength and resonance that cut through the black. Fumbling, I felt my next step take me clear of the last seat and I started trying to make my way to the dimly-lit exit sign at the top of the aisle.

“I…just leave me alone. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

There was a rough laugh from right behind me and then arms were wrapping around my waist, tugging me down as I tried to catch myself from falling and push away the hands clasping my stomach and clawing at my chest. Above me, I heard a loud, plasticky squeal as…oh, fuck, is that duct tape?

They were going to take me. Take me somewhere and what? Kill me? Worse? I didn’t know, but I knew if they got me it would all be over. I had to get away, stop them, and I had to do it now.

I felt strength flood through me at these fresh fears, and pushing hard against the carpet of the theater aisle, I managed to roll sideways and then over on top of the person holding onto me from behind. Immediately someone was trying to grab my feet even as a third reached for my shoulders. No, I had to get off the ground now or they’d have me.

Shooting out my feet, shock went up my legs as I slammed into someone. They let out a whooshing grunt and were gone, but now the one at my shoulders was reaching for my arms, trying to pin me down. Twisting away, I reached up into the dark for where I thought their head would be. I found an ear with one hand and hair with the other even as they cursed and tried to move away. But I was faster, digging my fingers into their cheeks and stabbing my thumbs into their eyes.

A bloodcurdling squeal split the black above me, and the hands seeking to trap my arms disappeared. The one behind me was already starting to loosen his grip when I sent an elbow into what I guessed was his ribs and slid free of his grasp. I crawled and then ran toward the exit now, torn between planning to yell for the girl behind the concession counter to call the cops and just running out and getting away. When I reached the lobby, I saw neither was an option.

No one was out there and the doors leading out had been chained.

“There’s no getting away, boy.”

Spinning around, I saw a large man with brown stringy hair stalking toward me, a nasty smile on his face. Behind him, a woman was helping another man with blood streaming down his face out of the theater. When she looked up, I recognized her from the parking lot. I edged toward a lone standing brass post that would be used to hold line-dividing rope during busy nights at the theater. It’s surface was cold but reassuring as I gripped the top of it in one hand. If there was another way out, it was probably through all of them.

The man in front took out what at first I thought was a pistol. “You’re coming with us one way or another.” I saw a blue arc of electricity jump between prongs as he held up the stun gun. “Only question is how much you want it to…”

His words were cut off as I swung the brass rope post at him base-first, slamming into the side of his head. My arms shook with the blow, but it didn’t slow me down. Nothing could slow me down now, least of all them. Taking a step forward with the swing’s momentum, I swung it back the other way, catching the bleeding-eyes man in his right knee and crumpling it. He collapsed with a scream, his face a red mask of pain and anger as he rolled over onto his belly.

The woman had seen that second swing coming and avoided it, pitching herself forward even as I straightened back up to meet her. I staggered back as she slammed into me, hands digging into my neck even as she tried to wrap her legs around me. Ignoring the pain, I struggled to keep my feet as I slid the brass post between us. She tightened her grip, thinking I was going to try and pry her off, but she was wrong. I just wanted something hard and unyielding at her front as I ran us against the metal counter of the concession stand.

The first time I hit it, all the air went out of her. I’d tried to keep the post at her chest, but it slipped and crushed her diaphragm as her back slammed against the counter. Her grip began to loosen immediately, but she still was holding on. Good.

Sliding the post back up to her chest, I braced it as best I could as I rammed her lower back into the counter a second time. I felt more than heard the crack as her lower spine gave way, and when I stepped back, she slid bonelessly to the floor. Looking over, I saw the blinded man was trying to crawl away. No. There were going to be no exceptions. No escape.

Walking over to him, I took my foot and rolled him over like an injured turtle. He held up his hands, fluttering them aimlessly as he began to cry, the tears mixing with the blood to send pink lines down into his ears and hair.

“No…don’t…I’m sorry…I see now…I see…”

I brought the base of the post down onto his face, into his face, until he stopped moving. It was only then, as his arms gave their final twitch, that I noticed something white peeking out from inside his denim jacket. I was coming back to myself now, fear and panic and shock bleeding in past the shell of…what had I just done? How had I…it didn’t matter. I needed to get away. Get away and call the cops. Make sure they knew I was just defending myself and…

But what was that paper?

Bending down, I gingerly picked a spot of the jacket that wasn’t bloody and lifted it up so I could see inside. There was a page of white paper taped inside there with duct tape, and on it, there were lines of words.

You think you deserve it, you rotten little fuck?

We spend our lives preparing for this, earning this, and you think you can just come in and take it from us?

No…don’t…I’m sorry…I see now…I see…

Stumbling back, I tried to breathe as I turned back to the broken dead woman at my feet. I crouched and patted her down for anything like what had been in the other man’s jacket, but there wasn’t anything I could feel. Grimacing, I was about to start going through her pockets when I remembered her hands. Turning over her palms, I found a sea of black smudged ink, but amid the illegible sprawl I could still pick out a few things.

fucking bastard

little…come…rip it out

King Dragonfly


“You’ve changed, Timmy.”

I stared at her. It had been weeks since the night at the theater. I’d had to kill people twice since then, and I’d slowly figured out that most of the interactions I had were…not real. Scripted somehow. It made no sense, and I knew I should have just thought I’d gone crazy, but it never even seriously occurred to me. I was stronger and sharper than ever, and if I had to use that new strength to fight back the constantly creeping tide of fear surrounding me, so be it. It wouldn’t drown me. They wouldn’t get me. No matter who they were and what they meant to me.

I just stared at her, expressionless. “How so?”

She widened her eyes at me. “What do you mean, ‘how so’? You tell me you’ve killed people. That people are constantly after you. But no cops ever come. Nothing is ever in the news about it. You tell me you’re not cleaning up, right?”

Glancing out the window at the darkened street below, I shrugged. “Right. I don’t know what’s happening to them. I guess the others are cleaning up after me to keep their secrets.”

I saw her scowl out of the corner of her eye. “Right, because the whole world is out to get you. You understand that’s paranoid, right? You need mental help. You need…” She reached out and grabbed my arm lightly. “Something isn’t right with you. Your head, your heart…you’re different. It’s not just the crazy stuff you’ve been saying. It’s you. You’re not right anymore.”

When I turned back to look at her, I couldn’t entirely hide the hatred on my face. “Let me see your phone.”

Debbie blinked in surprise. “What? Why?”

I held out my hand. “Just let me see it for a second.”

She pulled her hand back. “Um…no. I…look, I don’t have time for this. Mom’s got chemo again in the morning and I have to go get Jenkins and…Tim, I’m pretty much his mother already, and when she dies, I really will be. I…” Debbie wiped her eye and went on. “I need your help with this. I need you. I love you more than…just let me help you. Talk to me.”

Clenching my jaw, I gave her a cold smile. “Give me your phone and then we’ll talk.”

Debbie stood up, shaking her head even as she pulled her phone out and started looking at it. “No. I’m not going to feed into your sickness.” Her eyes flicked up to me and back down to the screen. “But it’s okay. I found out about someone that I think can help. I didn’t want to go to them if there was another way, but maybe there’s not.” She used her thumb to scroll on the screen. “Maybe they’re the only way to get you back.”

I snorted and looked back out of the window. What a fucking joke this all was. It wasn’t me that was wrong. It was the world.

“I’m going out, Timmy. I’ll be awhile I think. I’m going to carry Jenkins by the park.”

I heard a soft sob when I didn’t answer, and then she was gone.


“How do you feel?”

The room I was in was strangely familiar, though I wasn’t sure why. It was large and paneled with dark woods on each of its eight sides, and the contrast with the light brown marble floor and sky blue vaulted ceiling gave the space the impression of being in a tall silo or down a deep well. Eyes still bleary, I struggled to focus on the man standing above me. He had bright green eyes framed in a gaunt, pale face surrounded by wisps of grey hair. As he knelt down beside me, his long, red overcoat pooled around him, giving off the faint twin smells of smoke and copper. When he extended his hand, I took it.

“I…feel okay I guess. Where am I?”

His eyes roved up to the walls around us. “They call it a temple. But they don’t understand its purpose, so their names are meaningless.” He looked back down to me. “It is more of a birthing chamber, or perhaps a womb.”

I went to say I didn’t understand, but I found that wasn’t entirely true. “They tried to summon something here, didn’t they?”

The man nodded. “They did. Something old and powerful. They sought to gain audience with it. Seek its favor and offer it an anchor in this world.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Did it work?”

A cold, thin smile broke across the harsh landscape of the man’s face. “In a way. They didn’t truly understand what they were doing or what they were asking for. Using words and rituals that had power, but not in the way they thought.” His mouth twisted as though tasting something sour. “They understood nothing. Thought to bring you in as a Witness, never understanding they were just meat to be used. That it was never going to choose them.”

I swallowed. “Because…because it chose me?”

The man’s smile was warmer now. “Oh yes. It was always going to choose you.”

An idea came to me then. “How long have I been here?”

Gripping my hand tighter, he pulled me to my feet. “Part of you has just come back moments ago. Part of you has been here for a full moon cycle.” He chuckled. “I know how that sounds, but it’s true. Not that it matters now that you’re whole again.”

I nodded, mouth dry. “I…I answered that ad, didn’t I?” He nodded absently as he checked his watch. “And now I’m possessed?”

He cut his eyes back to me with a twisting smirk. “Not in the way you mean. During this last month, you were divided…a you out in the world and a you in this…shabby hatchery.” He gestured around at the opulent room. The part of you out there…its strangeness and hostility…is a natural part of things being reordered. Of the old world having to accept something new. Of having to prepare for your arrival.”

I frowned. “But everyone…I kept having people that…they were reading lines. Like they were playing parts or something.”

The man spread his hands out between us. “Oh yes. The Dragonfly is very clever. It subverted the world’s resistance against it. Twisted the greed and ignorance of these pretenders that use this place, moving and shifting them out in the greater world as part of the true, grand ritual to make you and it one. Without their blood and your fear, it would have been a much longer process.”

I heard anger in my voice. “What about Debbie? Are you saying she was part of them too? Because I’m pretty fucking sure she’s been reading lines too.”

He chuckled. “No, her part was special. She had to make the final sacrifice tonight.” His eyes closed and fluttered briefly as though he was savoring a bite of something delicious. “And she did it well.”

“Sacrifice? What kind of sacrifice?”

The man shrugged as he turned away. “First the boy. And then an hour later, herself.”

Tears stung my eyes as I followed him. “No. You’re lying. She wouldn’t do that. She wasn’t mixed up in any of this. She was a good person.”

He snorted. “You’re still waking up. You’ll understand soon enough.”

I grabbed his arm and stopped him. “Understand what?”

When he turned, I expected to see anger, but instead there was a species of fear in his eyes. “That this is all how it was always going to be. These ritualists bound themselves. Your friend Debbie? She received a copy of a very special play a few weeks ago. Even I, detached from invisible strings more than most, am playing a part. The role of midwife, ushering in a king from the shadowed sea, its time come round at last.”

My hand trembled as I gripped his arm tighter. “And what about me? Don’t I have a say in any of this? Don’t I have a choice?”

I felt my fingers close on thin air. I was outside now, just down the street from my house. Something landed on my shoulder, and when I looked over, I wasn’t surprised to see it was a large blue dragonfly. Its words were cool as it whispered into my head.

You are the only one that does have a choice. We chose each other long ago and now and in the future. We have always been and will always be, in this world and others, and I am so happy to have you forever and again.

Smiling, I nodded to him. “I…I’m happy too I think. I just…is this wrong? Are we wrong?” I wasn’t sure if I was speaking aloud or not, but I also wasn’t sure it mattered.

I heard laughter like music when it spoke next.

We aren’t wrong. It’s this place. This world. It is weak and rotting and it is so very wrong. You can just see its corruption more clearly now. And as you remember more, you’ll understand what we must do.

“What’s that?”

We will eat this world alive. And in its place, we will give birth to something new. Something strong and enduring and right.

I didn’t need to ask more. It…I was right. I could see more of what lay behind now. What lay ahead.

And it was so beautiful it hurt.

 

I'm Paid to Witness Terrible Things

 

“Just stand…here we go.”

Raphael pointed at a spot in the grass a few feet off the sidewalk. Technically it was probably the yard of the house behind us, but it was a side yard and close enough to the street that I doubted anyone would complain. Still, I wasn’t sure what he was pointing at until I stepped closer and saw something silver glinting among the thick grass. I looked back up at him questioningly.

“So I stand there? Do I pick that up?”

He nodded. “Yeah, the witness has to be the one to pick it up. It’s one of the rules.” His eyes skittered back and forth between me and the patch of grass, his face lined with tension as he flapped his hand in my direction. “Hurry. Do it if you’re going to do it.”

I frowned and bent down, picking up what I now saw was a silver coin, though not a kind I was familiar with. It was smooth on one side, and on the other, there was a large engraved eye surrounded by lines that radiated a criss-crossed web to the edges of the small metal disc. Running my thumb over the ridges, I looked up at him as I rose.

“So what? Now I stand here and wait for something to happen?”

Raphel shrugged. “Pretty much. A lot of times…” He glanced across the street and then turned back to me. “Lots of times nothing happens. You just stand in this spot for two hours. And at the end of the two hours, you go home. You’ll find a black journal and a pen sitting outside your door. Before you go in, you write down a description of what you saw during your time out here. It can be long or short, it doesn’t matter. It can just say ‘I stood for two hours and nothing happened’ if that’s the truth. Just so long as you write something down. When you’re done writing it down, put the book and the pen back where you found them and go inside. They’ll be gone before the next morning, and around noon that same day, you’ll find an envelope at your door. $1000 bucks cash.”

I grinned. “You’ve told me this ten times and it still sounds too good to be true.” I felt my smile slip. “You sure this isn’t anything illegal?”

He grimaced. “Look, you’re the one that kept bugging me about getting you into it. Remember, I told you not to. Told you that it’s not as easy as it sounds.”

I frowned at him. “Yeah, you keep saying that, but you won’t say why it isn’t easy. Unless your lazy ass just minds standing for a couple of hours. For a $1000 bucks I can stand a lot longer than that.” When he didn’t smile or laugh, I went on. “But seriously. I thought you were just messing with me. Or maybe that there is something you’re not telling me.” I held his eye. “So is there?”

He shook his head as he dropped his gaze. “No, nothing I’m allowed to tell. That’s part of the rules. If you bring someone new in, you can show them where to go and what to do the first time, but that’s it. No talking about what you’ve seen or done.” When he looked back up at me, his gaze was stony. “And I know I’ve told you this before too, but it’s worth repeating…now that you’ve started, you do not stop until a full two hours have passed. No walking around, no going to piss or falling asleep. You have to stay here the full time, no matter what, and you have to watch…well, whatever there is to watch.”

I raised my eyebrow. “Dude, you’re starting to freak me out being all sketchy acting about it. If this is some kind of joke you and Tori are pulling, I’ll kick your ass.” I tried to laugh, but it sounded hollow and thin in my ears.

Raphael’s eyes widened slightly. “It’s not a joke. You understand? You wanted in it, and now you’re in it. So long as you take it serious and follow the rules, you’ll be okay.” He gave me a smile that looked forced. “Make good money too.” Glancing back across the street, he started edging toward his car. “So you cool? I don’t know I should stay much longer, but I want to make sure you’re okay before I go.”

Ignoring the twisting in my belly, I gave him a thumbs-up as I started my phone’s two-hour timer. “I’m cool. I’ll text you later.”

He nodded and ducked into his car, and moments later he was gone. I felt very alone and exposed now that the distraction of talking was gone. It wasn’t a bad neighborhood—the houses were older and a bit run down, but it seemed quiet enough. I’d only seen a couple of people drive by while we were talking, and after Raphael left, it was probably half an hour before another car passed.

The entire two hours, my mind kept racing, torn between fear that this all really was a practical joke and that it was not only real, but that Raphael’s weirdness wasn’t just him being anal, but him…well, him being scared.

But that was silly. I’d know him and his sister Tori since the fifth grade, and I’d never known him to get really scared or freaked out about anything. Probably he was just nervous about vouching for me and was afraid if I messed up, it would mess up his job too.

And there was no denying it was a weird job. Inherently sketch. Maybe some twisted pervert with a lot of money, or someone that wanted to harass someone without having to be around themselves? My imagination had run wild since Raphael had let the job slip a couple of weeks earlier, but if all I had to do was stand here and watch the neighborhood crawl by, what was the harm? And if some nut wanted to pay big money for it, who was I to refuse?

My other worry was that it was just a way to lure someone out somewhere so they could be snatched or serial killed or something. But Raphael had been doing it for like three months, and the guy he’d heard about it from had done it for over a year a couple of states over. So it had to be…well, if not legit, at least not too dangerous for the people getting paid.

And that all made since, sure, but it still got harder to stay out there as the twilight deepened into night. I wasn’t even sure what I was supposed to be looking for or watching, so I just periodically turned and looked this way and that, my eyes finding the pools of light from the occasional streetlamp or the glow of some lit window or door. Was I missing something? I didn’t know what. But why have me hang out here for two hours unless something was going to…

I let out a short yelp as my phone’s timer went off. My two hours were up.


Me: That was stupid easy. And the book was there like you said when I got home tonight.

Sai Turtleboy: Yeah. So you filled it out and left it?

Me: Yeah, of course. Though I don’t know how I feel about you giving my address out to strangers. Long as I get paid tho, right?

Sai Turtleboy: I didn’t.

Me: You didn’t get paid? Dude what the fuck?

Sai Turtleboy: No. I didn’t think about it before, but I didn’t tell anyone where you lived.

Me: Ohhhkay. Back to being creepy. I just better have a fat envelope waiting for me tomorrow or your (donkey emoticon) is (lawn emoticon).*


They did pay, just like he said. And a week later, I found another envelope with a new time and location, as well as a photo of the spot I was supposed to stand in. Raphael said it was always considered an invitation, not an order. I didn’t, he stressed, have to keep doing it if I didn’t want to.

But of course I did. Over the next month, I did it two more times. Once at the edge of a shopping center parking lot early one Sunday morning and the other time outside a library across town until midnight. I kept waiting for something to happen, something noteworthy to report or give me a clue as to what the purpose of all this was, but it was all so…ordinary. People coming and going, some of them giving me odd looks as they passed, as though they wondered what the strange girl was doing just standing there watching as they came and went.

It wasn’t until the third time I actually saw something kind of interesting. I was posted up outside a pizzeria when a kid about my age came storming out wearing a green apron covered in white powder. He made it a few steps into the parking lot before seeming to think better of it and turning around. I had the thought that maybe he’d quit and now was going to go back to say he was just kidding, but no. Instead he went over to a gumball machine outside the door he’d exited. Picking it up, I saw the cords standing out in his neck as he screamed in the direction of whoever was inside to hear.

“Fuck you, Brian!”

With that, he swung the gumball machine from its base like he was batting for a homerun, except instead of hitting a fast pitch he slammed into the restaurant’s front plate-glass window, shattering it. He stared with some mixture of what looked like pride and surprise before dropping the machine and running for his car to make his escape from the lot.

Thirty minutes later police pulled up, and much to my dread, they headed my way after talking to some guy in a red pizza shirt—Brian, if I had to guess. They asked me if I’d been out there when everything happened. I shrugged and told them I’d been out there for awhile, but I hadn’t seen anything. The female officer frowned at this and told me she didn’t see how I didn’t notice a man breaking a window and screaming twenty yards away. I just stared at her and shrugged.

That’s when she started asking why exactly I was out there. Was I aware that there was a city ordinance against loitering. I explained to her that I was waiting for a friend and…that’s when my phone’s timer went off. Telling the officers that I was tired of waiting for my friend to show up, I turned to head back to my car. The woman cop wanted to stop me, but the other officer gave her a forbidding look and thanked me for my time. Nodding, I walked to my car and got in, blood still thundering in my ears.

What was that? Me just lying to cops like it was nothing? I mean I knew I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone what I saw…those were the rules, after all. But I had never even talked to a cop before except for the one speeding ticket I’d gotten, and I’d almost broke down crying then. Now I was lying to them and walking off like it was nothing.

Odd as it may sound, the whole experience was weirdly empowering. I didn’t really feel guilty about not helping out and being honest—I was being loyal to my job and its rules, and that was more important. Plus, if I could keep doing a good job, who knew how long this money could last? Maybe I could do it forever.

Then three weeks later, I watched a family burn to death.

I was standing on the grass of an empty lot on the last street of a largely empty neighborhood. This was a new place, divided into dozens of lots and populated with a handful of houses on each of its three winding roads. I’d seen a few families coming home as I drove in, but the last street was also the least developed, and so there were only two houses across from me and none on my side. Even those two houses seemed empty, with no people or cars around. Just tall grass and patches of dirt and…well, me, standing awkwardly while I waited for my timer to tick down and hoping that no neighbor or rent-a-cop came up and hassled me for hanging out.

I was already an hour in when I saw an orange glow in the front windows of the closest house. At first, I thought it was just light from a t.v. or lamp made soft and shifting by the long white curtains hung there. But then the curtains caught, bright tongues of flame crawling up them quickly even as I noticed a flare of light from one of the upstairs windows. The house was burning. I…I needed to do something. Call 911 or something.

But you can’t tell anyone what you’ve seen. It’s the rule.

But if someone’s house is burning, shouldn’t I break the rules? It seemed like the simplest question in the world, and yet something in me still hesitated. Someone else would notice soon, right? Or there was some alarm inside that would robocall for help. A part of me recoiled at my thought processes, at stalling while I debated calling for help, but it had a small, meek voice. The louder voice told me I had made a promise by picking up that coin, and I had to honor that. At the very least I could wait a few…

I puffed out a sigh of relief as I heard the sirens in the distance. A couple of minutes later two firetrucks pulled up. The firemen immediately went to work, some of them setting up hoses while others went to the house and started looking in windows and calling for anyone who might be inside. They must have heard something, because suddenly they began frantically breaking down the front door with axes. Black smoke boiled out, followed by a dim view of what lay beyond the door. It was all fire and ashes, though I thought for a moment I saw something move in there.

It was then that the smell reached me--the thick and dusty scent of ashes mixed with the spikier smells of fire and something almost sickeningly sweet. One of the firemen had broken out one of the windows upstairs and was yelling back down. Two upstairs. Burned and no response.

One of the axemen at the front door cursed and then said there was another body on the stairs. Heart in my throat, I could barely breathe. What if I could have helped them? Or called and gotten someone there quicker. It had only been a matter of minutes between when I first saw the fire and the trucks arrived, but how many? Two? Five? How much of a difference could it have made, and what was wrong with me that I didn’t even…

”It’s a lovely smell, isn’t it?”

The voice was rough and oily in my ear, but when I recoiled, it wasn’t just from the shock or the sound of it. It was the breath that came with it—cold and fetid, with that same underlying sweetness I had already been smelling since they broke down the door. As I pulled away, I turned to find who was talking to me, but there was no one there. I almost lost my balance and fell over, but as I recovered I turned all the way around, looking in every direction. There was no sign of anyone anywhere close by. Just then, a slimy chuckle slid out of the twilight air next to me.

”But if you get a little taste?”

This was followed by a pleasurable groan and what might have been the smacking of lips somewhere above me and to my right. Forgetting everything else in my terror, I started to back away. I dug into my pocket for my car keys, and that’s when I felt the coin I’d put there. I-I couldn’t just leave could I? But how could I stay? Something was out here with me and…

My phone jumped in my pocket as the timer went off.

Tears sprang to my eyes. “Oh thank you God.” Not looking back, I ran to my car and jumped in. It was three blocks before I pulled over and tried to calm down. To rationalize what I had seen and heard. But it didn’t work. I was freaked right the fuck out, and I needed to talk to Raphael. Find out what he’d gotten me into.


Me: I just got done with a watching job. Some really freaky shit happened.

Sai Turtleboy: Don’t tell me any details. Remember the rules.

Me: Yeah, but this was really bad. I just need to talk to someone about it.

Sai Turtleboy: No, you don’t. You need to keep quiet and take your money when it comes. You did stay the whole two hours, right?

Me: Sure, yeah I did. Can you at least tell me if you’ve ever had something bad happen on one of these things? Like people die bad?

Sai Turtleboy: Look. No, I can’t, obviously. That’s still telling. But are you okay? Are you hurt?

Me: Yeah, I mean I’m not physically hurt or something.

Sai Turtleboy: Okay good. So go home, write it down, and then let it go. And if it bothers you that much, you don’t have to do it again, okay?

*Me: Sure. I guess so.


I got paid the next day as usual, but I promised myself I was done after that. I even ignored the first new envelope I received. But when the second one came the following week, I couldn’t help but open it. I told myself it was just about the money, but I think even then I knew that wasn’t entirely true. I’d been restless and unhappy not doing it anymore, and scared I might not get another chance. I’d tried calling Raphael a couple of times to ask more questions, but he never answered anymore, and when I texted, he always texted back that he was busy and we’d talk later.

The day I got the second envelope, he finally called. Told me that he was sorry he’d been distant, but he was just trying to give me time to decompress and get over whatever I’d seen before we talked too much, if for no other reason than to reduce the risk I’d try to tell him what I’d seen despite the rules. He told me he was sorry he’d introduced me to the job in the first place, but he was glad I was done with it, and…

I felt a hard smile go across my face as I cut him off. “I don’t know that I’m done. I got another envelope today.”

“Another…? Kim, let it go. I’m thinking about getting out myself. Before it’s too late.”

“Too late for what? What’re you talking about? I thought you could quit whenever you wanted.”

He was quiet for a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was soft and thin. “Usually…usually, yeah. But as you get into it, there are certain…obligations. Me vouching for you and bringing you in…look, it’s not just you that has a problem if you mess up, okay? So just stay away from it and we’ll both be better off. Okay? O—”

I hung up the call. Fuck him. I wasn’t messing anything up. And I wasn’t giving up this kind of easy money either. Opening my map app, I started tracking down where the new job wanted me to go.


I was standing at the edge of a playground in the middle of the night. The distant orange lights made the jungle gym and seesaws look like a forest of shadowy spiders at one end, and the other end was dominated with a better-lit but no less desolate sandbox. My stomach was already tight. Something was wrong with this place. Either that or it was about to be. It was something in the air, a sour electricity that made the hairs on my arms stand on end and made me jump at the slightest rustling from a distant tree or bush.

Still. I’d already picked up the coin. It had already been…ugh…only twenty minutes, but that was a sixth of the way done. And now…was that woman bringing her little kid to the playground at two in the morning?

Apparently so. As I quietly watched, a young woman walked her little toddler boy over to the sandbox and told him to play. When she turned back, her eyes found mine immediately.

“Are you the whistler?”

My pulse started pounding as I shook my head. I was going to just ignore her and hope she got the hint, but then I heard myself speaking in a loud, clear voice.

“I am the Witness.”

She nodded, and at this angle I could see how young she looked. How scared. I almost offered something more, but then a voice called out behind me.

“I am the Whistler.”

She looked past me and her face fell further. Turning around, I saw an old man, his head festooned with wisps of grey hair above a long red overcoat draped across broad, thin shoulders. He started walking to meet her, never even glancing in my direction as he passed, but when he reached the girl, he offered a slight bow.

“Do you bring an offering?”

The girl nodded, her face shining with tears now. “I…I do. We…we call him Jenkins.”

The man looked at the little boy half-heartedly digging out a hole in the sand nearby. “This one is your child?”

“Y-yes.”

He cut his eyes back to her sharply. “And this is your offering.”

She paled as she began to nod frantically. “Yeah…they said that would be enough. What you wanted. I…if I need to give something e—”

“No.” He raised his hand to silence her even as he began walking past her to the boy. “This will suffice. You will have what you wish.” The man was reaching into a coat pocket to pull out what looked like a large, silver egg.

“So you’ll fix Timothy’s heart?”

I sucked in a breath as the man whipped his head back toward her, his mouth a hard snarl above eyes that seemed to flash in the lamplight. “You will have what you wish.” Then, just as fast, he turned back to the boy at his feet and slammed the metal egg into the side of his skull.

I let out a small scream as the boy fell over limply, his face buried in the sand. I wanted to run—either forward to help the boy or just somewhere else so I could get help—but something stopped me. I still had over an hour left. I couldn’t move from this spot yet, and even if I did, I couldn’t tell anyone what I’d seen. Maybe I could get that boy medical help though, if I kept it vague and…now the man was sitting the egg down next to the boy and stepping back. He never looked in my direction, even when I screamed, and now he only had eyes for the egg, though I was starting to see why. It was shifting and splitting, its moonlight shell segmenting into a hundred, then a thousand smaller pieces as something unfurled from inside.

I could lie and say I didn’t see it well, and it’s true I don’t remember much of what it looked like, but I think it’s just my brain couldn’t make sense of what I was seeing. It was all moving parts and small tendrils that became larger as they latched onto the boy’s head, curling into his ears and wrapped around his throat.

Stifling a whimper, I watched as the thing began to tug the poor little boy under the playground sand. Witnessed as the boy came to just as his eyes went below the surface. He screamed—the sound was a terrible, undulating wail of pure terror and pain, and his small arms and legs kicked up fans of dirt as he got pulled deeper into some impossible hole. I had to do something. I did have to do something, didn’t I?

As if hearing my thoughts, the man’s gleaming eyes cut to my own, and something in that terrible gaze frightened me even more than the half-submerged squealing child at his feet. His lips twisted sharply as he watched me, his eyes never leaving even when he put a leather shoe on the child’s back and shoved him deeper into wherever that monster was taking him. Face unreadable, he extended a hand to me silently, though I wasn’t sure if it was a greeting, an offering of his own, or something more sinister. Perhaps it was that final gesture, or maybe everything that had been building that night and those before it, but something broke in me then. And when I started running, I didn’t stop until I got home and had the door locked behind me.

It was as I turned the latch that my phone’s timer began to buzz.


There was no journal that night and no money the next day. That was fine with me. I was done. For real this time. Whatever this was, I never wanted to be near it again.

It was days later before I even tried calling Raphael. I wasn’t going to tell him any details, but I did want to encourage him to get out too. Whatever being a Witness really was, however much it paid, it wasn’t worth our souls.

He didn’t answer. After three days of trying I called Tori, but she hadn’t heard from him either. That was yesterday, and today I woke up determined to go out and find him.

Turns out I didn’t have far to go.

When I opened my front door, Raphael was across the street, just standing there. I called to him and waved, but he just stared at me. He wasn’t there to talk. He was there to bear witness.

I closed my door back and started writing this down. It’s taken me over an hour and he’s still out there. I’m afraid I know what that means.

Raphael’s time is almost up.

And so is mine.

 

The Sky Will Burn The Night You Die

 

I first realized something was wrong when I found pictures on my phone that I knew couldn’t be real.

It had been awhile since I’d looked back through my gallery app more than a few days, and I only did it this time out of boredom while waiting in line at the drive-thru pharmacy. That sense of comfortable familiarity at scrolling past pictures I was reminded I’d taken—a cool-looking sky, my dog Tenner, the girl I’d been seeing for the past few weeks—was pleasant and distracting. So much so I had to hear a honk behind me before I remembered to edge up ten feet to keep the line moving.

But when I went back more than a few of months, things started to change. The pictures were things I didn’t remember. People that weren’t familiar and places I’d never been. What was all this? No one else had ever used my phone to take photos that I remembered, and certainly not long enough to take months’ worth of pictures I’d never seen. As I went back two years, I was now into my last phone’s pictures that had been saved in the cloud, and again, none of these looked familiar. I was even in some of them, posing or hugging people, even kissing this woman in several that I didn’t know at all.

Mouth dry, I pulled out of line and drove away. For a few minutes I just wandered, my mind feeling spongey and untrustworthy, like I’d taken something or had too much to drink. It distracted me, made me feel unsteady. I caught myself weaving off the road once, then a second time, and that was enough to get me to pull over at a gas station and park. I needed to get my shit together before I had an accident.

I reached for my phone again, but stopped short. I didn’t want to see more pictures. It would only make me feel stranger and more disconnected. I…I needed rest. I’d just close my eyes for a minute, try to relax, and see if I could make it home. Before I knew it I was asleep, drifting along a river of dreams that took me all the way back to


laying on my bed at home. I had music playing low—heavy metal that Dad would call “devil music” only when I cranked it up too loud—and I was staring at my ceiling. Back then I was only eleven, and on Friday nights like this one I could stay up late so long as I stayed in my room and pretended I was going to sleep. So I’d read or listen to my CDs low or maybe the radio show that came on at midnight on the weekends. I’d stare at the ceiling of softly glowing stick-on stars and planets and fight the urge to sleep as long as I could.

This night my parents had already gone to bed themselves, and I knew I only had a few minutes more before the growling lyrics of the band blended into a steady rhythm that would lull me to sleep.

When the knock at the window came I jumped. What could it be? I was on the second floor, and all the trees were on the other side of the house. Turning, I squinted as I


looked up at the policewoman frowning down at me, a look of mild concern on her face. “Are you okay, sir?”

I blinked around in confusion. I was still at the gas station, but it had already gotten dark. Rolling down the window, I gave her an awkward smile. “Um, yeah. I…did I do something wrong?”

She smiled a little. “No, not that I know of. But the cashier in there called 911 because she said you’d been sitting out here since this afternoon. I think she was worried you were sick or something.” The officer raised an eyebrow. “You sick?”

Shaking my head, I glanced toward the store and saw a young woman looking out at me over some kind of chip display. Giving her a little wave, I turned back to the policewoman. “No…I just was really tired I guess. Meant to pull over and rest my eyes for a minute and…what time is it?”

She glanced at her watch. “Just past ten-thirty.”

“Fuck! I mean, um, dang. I guess I really did need sleep. Maybe I’m coming down with something after all.” I suddenly remembered the pictures on my phone and fought the urge to blurt out what I’d seen. Maybe tell her that someone must have hacked my phone or…no, that was stupid. And maybe it was part of a dream anyway. Trying to look sane and sober, I gave her an apologetic smile. “I really am okay though. I’ll just head home if that’s okay.”

The woman studied me a moment and then nodded. “Yeah, sure. Just…you’re sure you’re okay to drive?” When I nodded, she stepped back. “Okay. Well, have a good night. Hope you feel better.”

I backed out slow and careful, and when I reached the road I could tell I was feeling better. More steady. I made it home and waited until I was inside to look at my phone again. My heart sunk when I immediately saw the strange pictures where I’d left off scrolling. The top one on the screen was of me and this woman I was kissing in other pictures standing together smiling. The closeness and angle made it seem like I was taking the picture of us, and in the background I could see a pool and what looked like a cookout, but again, it was a place and people I didn’t recognize.

Despite having been passed out in my car for almost six hours, I suddenly felt very tired. I didn’t want dinner, just more sleep, and I needed to be up early in the morning anyway to go visit


“Mom, how’ve you been?”

She looked up at me, her eyes bright and cloudy at the same time. I could already tell it wasn’t a good day for her—her momentary excitement at someone coming to see her was already fading, and she wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that she didn’t recognize me, which on her scale of trying to accommodate her Alzheimer’s, was on the low end.

So I sat with her, trying to make small talk that went nowhere as she briefly but politely responded to this stranger who she maybe had some odd sense she should know, but she couldn’t say from where or when. As we stared out the window at the birds hopping around on the sunlit brick patio outside, I felt the restless need to try again to get her talking more. I made a joke about how the bricks must be hot for the birds to hop around so much and

“Those are sparrows. They hop when they’re on the ground because that’s not where they belong. They forage down below, but they live in the trees. As opposed to a true ground bird like a partridge.” When I looked up, her sharp eyes found mine as her voice grew lightly reproachful. “I’ve told you that before, Nolan.”

I nodded, my vision growing slightly hazy as I broke her gaze and looked back out the window. “Yeah, Mom. You have. Sorry, I forgot.”

She reached over and patted my leg. “No need to be sorry. I get forgetful too.” I blinked, struggling with what to say, when my mother spoke up again. “Where’s Marcia? She didn’t come this time?”

I looked back at her then, unable to hide my confusion. “Marcia? Who’s Marcia?”

She raised an eyebrow and laughed. “Who’s Marcia? Don’t let her hear you say that.” When I didn’t smile or laugh in return, her expression grew more serious. “Nolan, I’m talking about your wife. Your wife, Marcia.” Her lip began to tremble as her eyes widened slightly. “I…I do have that right, don’t I? I know I get confused sometimes, but…I mean I know you have a wife named Marcia.” She paused, looking down at her hands, milling against each other nervously as she went on. “Don’t you?”

I almost told her yes just to get her to stop looking so terrified and ashamed, but what good would that do? Telling the truth, lying, none of it made it any better. Ten minutes from now she would just…a thought suddenly struck me. Pulling out my phone, I opened the gallery app and scrolled down into the pictures I didn’t recognize before handing her the phone.

“Hey, just…look at these pictures, yeah? You can touch the screen and scroll them. Yeah, like that. Just, do you recognize any of these people?”

My mother blushed slightly and shot me a hard look. “Is this to see if I can remember any of them?”

I shook my head. “No, Mom….no. I…I don’t remember these people. I don’t know what these places are or who took the pictures. I just wanted to see if you do.”

Her frown deepened. “Honey, are you okay? I know…” She sighed. “I know you’re worried about getting memory problems like me, but you’re still young. What, thirty-five?”

I nodded. “Yeah, until next month.”

She smiled. “Until next month, that’s exactly right. So try not to worry. Memory can be…”

I cut her off, trying to keep my voice soft. “Mom, please. Just look while…” while you can still remember things “…while I’m still here.”

My mother watched me for a moment and then nodded, turning to studiously scroll through several of the pictures before looking back up at me. “Honey, you know all these people. This is Marcia.” She pointed to a photo of the woman I’d seen so many times. “And these two? These were taken in Doug’s backyard.” She scrolled down a bit more before pointing. “See? There’s Doug and his wife right there.” She met my eyes again, clearly afraid. “Are there other pictures you meant? I must be looking at the wrong ones.”

I swallowed and took the phone back from her. “No…No, those are the right ones.”

We sat silent for several moments until she spoke again, her voice barely above a whisper. “You really don’t remember your wife or your best friend? You’re not playing a trick on me? I won’t be angry…but Nolan, are you telling me the truth?”

Shaking my head, I looked back up at her. “I swear. I think something’s wrong with me. There has to be.”

She looked confused. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Well…I mean I can’t remember things. Things I should remember.”

My mother smiled, her eyes drifting back toward the window. “Oh, that happens to everybody. I have memory trouble sometimes too.”

Shuddering, I reached out and took her hand, giving it a squeeze. She held it for a moment before pulling back, her gaze distant now and far away. I sat with her a few more quiet minutes before heading back to the car, the light painfully bright as I


looked at the thing tapping at my window. Its face was large and round, hard and white, with a faint glow that seeped through the glass to fill my darkened bedroom with a haze of sickly light. The electric guitar riff squealed high before the bass kicked in, and in the space between the two, the creature knocked again.

I was terrified as I looked at it—a face with just a small jut for a nose and two large pits for eyes dug into a circle of bone white, it looked like a child’s monstrous, half-finished drawing of the man in the moon. And behind it, floating in the silver light of the real moon, I saw twisting grey limbs splayed out in every direction like a stick-bug married to an octopus, every arm or leg ending in a hard hooking claw. Even the one that rapped on the window between beats of the music.

It must have been the light that drew me forward. I could see it reaching out to me, a shining cloud that I breathed in, and when I breathed it in, I lost my fear. And unafraid, I opened the window.

It didn’t wait for an invitation, and even as it crawled forward onto me, I saw its face begin to split open into a terrible mouth. All of it was a terrible mouth, a horrible hunger, a million turning teeth around a pink questing tongue. The tongue shot out and pierced my breastbone even as the force of it flung me back into its surrounding arms.

I gasped and found my fear again.

I heard something, and at first I thought it was my own frantic mind whispering, but no. It was the creature, telling me everything would be okay. That it was so sorry, but had to be this way. It had to live, and it would give me what it could but in the end it would have to take more. It was sorry, but there was so little room for mercy in this


“world, and there won’t be more if we don’t make it, right?”

Marcia blinked at me. “Nolan?” She laughed as she followed my gaze to something horrible and distant that she couldn’t see. That I couldn’t see anymore either, except in some dreaming memory or remembered nightmare. I blinked and looked at her.

“Sorry, hun. I think I spaced out for a second. What were you saying?”

She shook her head, frowning slightly as she leaned across the table. “It’s okay. I just…you looked kind of freaked out.” The waitress brought us our lunch just then, but when she had left, Marcia picked the thread back up. “You looked kind of scared. What were you thinking about?”

I shrugged. “I don’t know. I think I was remembering something from when I was a kid. A nightmare I had once about a monster coming in my room and…” I took a sip of water. “and eating me.”

She laughed. “Jesus! Well, you look pretty good for someone that’s been monster-eaten. What made you think about that?”

“You know how it is. Sometimes things just come back to you at the weirdest times.”

Marcia stabbed a piece of pasta. “I guess. But you’ll have to tell me that nightmare.”

“Yeah, sure. I will.” I picked at my own plate absently. “Just…not now, okay? I don’t want to thi…” My words died as I saw the edge of something colorful poking out under the rim of my plate. Pulling it out, I felt my tongue begin to thicken in my throat as I recognized it. It was a piece of folded color paper, slick to the touch and folded into a square. Turning it over just confirmed what I already knew it was. Liner notes for an old CD I had growing up. I’d been playing it the night there was a knock on my window.

“What is that?” Marcia’s voice was curious, but also concerned. She could see my face, see my hand shaking as I read the words that had been scrawled across the front of the paper. The cover image was of a tombstone surrounded by skeleton hands licked by fire, and the words were written in small, neat rows within the borders of the gravestone, almost like an epitaph. I recognized the handwriting—it was mine, at least mine when I was a kid. But the words…what were those words…

The sky will burn the


”night you die.”

I jumped, slightly startled at the voice at my elbow. Looking behind me, I saw a tiny old woman in a pink bathrobe shuffling past me. She had to have been the one that said it, but I couldn’t tell if she even knew I was there at all. I noticed motion at the corner of my eye as one of the nurses ran up and gently grabbed the woman’s shoulders. Giving me a sour look, she started steering the lady back toward the front of the nursing home.

“You really have to be careful when you come out. Always make sure the door latches behind you please, and that no one follows you out. Sometimes they slip through.”

I went to apologize, but she was already hustling the little woman back across the parking lot. Frowning, I headed on to my car and got in. Did I really know these people like Mom said? And if so, what was the best way of finding out when I didn’t even know who or where they were? And if I had amnesia or something, wouldn’t they have found me already? Wouldn’t my wife be at home instead of me having memories of dating Penelope and…I needed to take a breath. Maybe start by trying to contact Penelope and see what she knew and remembered.

Feeling slightly better that I had a plan, I reached to


get the bill when I heard Marcia laugh. Looking up, I saw she was tearing off pieces of bread and feeding it to a pair of birds that were hopping around between our table and the next. She glanced at me and grinned.

“Aren’t they cute? I wonder what kind they are?”

My throat felt tight. “I think they’re sparrows.”

She nodded absently. “Well they’re brave. We must be giants to them, and they still come down and dance around our feet for some tasty bread.” Her smile began to fade. “They hop back and forth when they’re on the ground because that’s not where they belong.”

My eyes widened. “What did you…”

“Please don’t feed them, ma’am.”

I looked up to see the waitress looking at Marcia disapprovingly before gesturing at the metal railing surrounding the perimeter of the dining area. “We’ve got the fence up to discourage animals from bothering customers, but sometimes they slip


through. I am still young, so the lives I give you aren’t many or long, and I am sorry they tangle at the end. They say I will get better as I grow.

The bony limbs holding me were hard and sharp, but their grasp, while firm, was still gentle. I looked down and saw the thick tongue, purple-black now, sucking at my chest, draining my insides. It didn’t hurt, not really. It was just pressure and tension. And as I watched, the creature pulled the tongue away, apparently satisfied.

Sleep now. Go back to those lives. They are real and this is the dream. They are your life and this is the nightmare. Do not be afraid.

It was easing me back onto my bed now, and I did want to just sleep, to just wake up from this terrible dream. But then I saw orange light flare in the corners of the room and I couldn’t help but look over at the flames crawling up the wall.

Do not worry. You will not feel the fire. It is only so others do not understand I was here. And this is a dream, remember? You cannot be hurt by a dream.

It took a hard black claw and softly nudged my head back straight so I was staring up at the ceiling.

There, just relax and let go. Let go and wake up in your real lives, not this shabby thing.

I sensed more than saw as it moved to the window.

And thank you. I will always remember what you gave to me. Thank you.

It was gone now, but I wasn’t far behind. My breath was hard to come by and my chest felt numb. I couldn’t move anymore, and the edges of my vision were already fading to greyish-black. Fighting back a distant kind of panic, I focused on the ceiling. All those glowing stars and planets, the comet I’d stuck myself when Dad held me up to reach. I couldn’t see their light anymore, not really. The fire was too bright. But I still imagined them glowing, still alive and shining down on me.

The fire reached the edge of the ceiling, causing the first of the constellations to curl and burn away.

Oh God. I needed to wake up. I needed to get out of this right now. This wasn’t my real life. My real life


was this, wasn’t it?

I looked around my car, halfway out of the parking space at the nursing home. What was wrong with me? Was I losing time now? Losing who I was?

No. I knew who I was. I was Nolan and this


was my real life. Marcia was my wife and we just had lunch and everything is great and I was okay. Everything was okay.

Trembling, I reached out and touched Marcia’s arm as we walked away from the restaurant. She stopped and looked back at me, her smile quickly turning to a look of concern.

“Nolan, what’s wrong?”

“I am


me, aren’t


I?”


Marcia’s forehead furrowed as she frowned. “Of course you are. What are you…” Her eyes widened as she began to scream. I only had to look down to see why.

My hands were beginning to burn.

 

Bury Me Deep

https://securitynationallife.com/wp-content/uploads/2018/10/buried-alive-featured.jpg 

Five years ago, my niece Emily was taken. We always say ‘taken’ because she disappeared, and even at eighteen, she was the most responsible person I’ve ever known. The idea of her running off was next to impossible, and given her normally careful nature, a freak accident where she was never found seemed pretty unlikely. That left taking—someone snatching her, carrying her off for some terrible reason.

We knew when it would have happened. She had started working at the campus bookstore a month before her freshman year of college, and already she was being trusted with locking up on some weeknights. This particular Wednesday, the front door to the store was never locked. Campus footage showed someone wearing a dark hoodie going into the store just before closing, but never showed them or Emily leave again. Police assumed they both left by the back exit, which wasn’t covered by a camera at the time.

Whatever the case, the trail went cold there. Emily’s purse and phone were found at the store. There were no witnesses to where she had gone or clues as to who might have taken her. No taunting messages or ransom demands ever came, and after the first few weeks, law enforcement gently let us know they were going to have to move on even if we couldn’t.

And of course we couldn’t. Emily was my sister Jackie’s world, and mine too, if I’m honest. Part of that was because I had no children of my own and I’d always helped Jackie raise her. Another was just Emily herself—she was so good and happy and kind-hearted. I don’t know anyone that could be around her for more than five minutes and not love her.

The last five years have been hard for me, but they’ve destroyed my sister. She started drinking heavily, running with a rough crowd and moving from one sketchy boyfriend to another. It’s like she knew they were going to be abusive and crazy before she got involved with them and did it anyway, almost as though she was punishing herself for not somehow saving her little girl.

The one that lasted the longest was Kyle. After six months and him threatening to burn down her house with her in it, she got a protective order and changed her number. Or rather got a new number, because she still kept her old phone and number active, even if it wasn’t being used anymore. She never said, but I knew it was because she was afraid of getting rid of anything connected to her past life—the one with Emily in it.

As far as I know, that old phone sat in the top of a hallway closet for the better part of two years before one day last month. I’d come by to force Jackie out of the house—my idea was for us to go hiking, as she rarely left indoors anymore, and at first it went well. I could tell she enjoyed the company and the fresh air, and there were even a couple of times when I saw her smile a little. Catching those glimpses of my sister not just frozen and numb by her pain and loss gave me hope that, in time, she might be able to actually live again.

But then, when I was taking a picture of the river we’d just crossed, my phone slipped from my hand.

My eyes followed it as I missed a fumbling grab for it and barely stopped myself from pitching too far forward and tumbling to the hard ground below. The phone wasn’t so lucky—it hit a rock with a crunch, bounced against a second, and then went into the swiftly moving water beyond. I knew it was gone immediately, my mind already going through the steps I’d need to go through to turn off that phone and get a new one. Jackie came up beside me and patted my back.

“Sorry, Mar. Was it new?”

I shrugged with a frown. “New enough. I think I had six months left to pay on it.” I puffed out a breath. “Shit.”

“Ready to head back to the house?”

I was. And by the time we got back, a thought had occurred to me. I didn’t have an old spare phone lying around, but Jackie did. I worried she might get mad or upset when I asked to borrow it until I got a new one, but she didn’t. Instead she just nodded and gave a small, hollow laugh.

“Yeah, sure. Not like I need it, right? It’ll need to be charged though.”

I nodded. “Yeah, yeah, of course. And I’ll take good care of it and bring it back when I get the new phone, okay?”

Jackie didn’t respond, but just stared ahead at the road. Her stony silence told me it was better to just leave well enough alone.

I left just a few minutes after we got back to her house, old phone and bulky charger in tow. I was so tired I forgot about it until I was going to bed and plugged it up to charge, and it wasn’t until the next morning that I actually tried to turn it on. The screen lit up immediately as a cheery welcome jingle played through the tinny phone speaker. My stomach clenched as I saw the home screen’s picture was one of Jackie and Emily at the beach two years before she went missing. I was about to set the phone down again when a flashing in the corner of the screen caught my eye. It was a notification.

One unheard voicemail.

My stomach lurched. It was stupid, of course. It’d be some telemarketer, or a drunk dial from one of Jackie’s scummy exes, that’s all. No point in even listening to it to see if she needed the message.

Even as I thought this, my thumb was already going through the motions to call the vmail service and play the message. My heart was pounding, and it was everything I could do to even hold onto the phone now. It was suddenly something terrifying and repulsive, and I didn’t want it around, didn’t want to hear what it had to say.

What was wrong with me? I didn’t know, but I also didn’t think I could make myself bring the phone up to my ear. Fumbling with the unfamiliar buttons, I finally got the speakerphone to work just as the message began to play.

Oh God.

It was Emily.


Mama? I…if you get this…they have me. I don’t know who ‘they’ are, not really. No one I know, and they all use weird fake names when they’re around me. They’ve had me for…months? Years? I don’t know. I’m inside most of the time except for when they move me around. They used to move me a lot, but not for awhile now.

Th-they hurt me. They hurt me a lot. Sometimes I feel like they’re going to kill me, but they never do, and when I wake up, I can’t even see where they…well, it’s bad. And I think they’ve done things to me that are even worse than I remember. Just…try to find me. Not you—I mean police or something. These people are very dangerous. I—I think they do this a lot maybe. They don’t talk to me much, but everything is…it’s like being with a doctor or a soldier or something? Like you can tell they know what they’re doing even if you don’t know what they’re doing. So you stay away. Get some cops to come find me if they can.

Maybe they can trace the call. This is one of their phones—they forgot it and I…I hid it until I could sneak and call. Your number is the only one I remember. Maybe after this I’ll call 911 if I have time, though I don’t know who I can trust here.

I think I’m in or near a town called Empire. One of them said that name once before another one shut them up, and I saw a flyer outside that said Murphy Park. So if you find a place called Empire with a Murphy Park, I bet I’m near there.

I have…I have to go. I love you so much. You and Mary. I’m so sorry they got me. Please be careful if you look for me. And don’t worry if you don’t or you try and can’t find me. I think this’ll be over soon either way. They…I think they’re building up to something, so…I’m sorry. Just, if you find me, be careful of me. I feel so strange now. And…um…this will sound weird, but if the cops just find my body, like if I’m dead when they find me? Just ask them to bury me. Don’t you go around my body, okay?

Just ask them to bury me deep.


I played that message three times. It wasn’t a fake, we both knew it. And it was dated less than two years ago, meaning Emily had sent it over three years after she was taken. It meant she hadn’t been killed right away. That she might still be alive even now.

I could barely drive as I headed back over. My hands were shaking and my head pounded as tears streamed down my face. On the one hand, I had the first hope, the first truly good thing, that had come into our lives in years sitting in my pocket. On the other, that thin healing scab that was finally starting to form on Jackie’s heart? I was about to split it in two.

She didn’t react like I was afraid she might. Didn’t cry or fall apart. I played it for her twice and then she got on the phone and started calling the investigators that had handled Emily’s case five years earlier. One of them had retired, but the other was still working for the sheriff’s office. After ten minutes of Jackie insisting, he finally agreed to meet us that night up at his office. And for the next two weeks, we spent nearly every day pushing for some kind of progress.

Can you pull the cell phone records? We were told they’re only kept for a year. The GPS coordinates from the phone? Only kept six months. How about the number itself? There wasn’t currently a carrier account associated with that number, meaning the previous account had been closed more than a year before, and they couldn’t find an actual person to associate with the closed account.

In the end, the only leads were some general cell tower information that corroborated part of what Emily had said in her message. The phone call had come through a tower in a town called Empire. And in that town, there was a Murphy Park.

The investigator made inquiries supposedly, though I think that amounted to calling local law enforcement and seeing if they’d run across anyone meeting Emily’s description. We scraped together enough money to hire a private investigator to look into things further, but after the first couple of weeks, we never heard from him again either. According to his secretary, he’d left to go “into the field” a few days earlier but she couldn’t give us more details than that. The thing was, when she told us that it was in person, and she was packing up stuff in the office. The next time we called, the line was disconnected.

It was after that, when we’d run out of options and hope, that Jackie finally broke. It was as though she had been holding it together so we could find Emily, and the strain of it all had finally become too much. We were sitting on her porch, staring out at the darkening afternoon when her voice suddenly cut the stillness, raw and hot with a kind of sad anger.

“It’s my fault, you know.”

I frowned at Jackie. “What’re you talking about?”

She put her head in her hands. “I fucked it up. I should have kept that phone. Kept using it and charged, I mean. I always knew there was a chance it could be important to keep that number. I had a feeling. And then…when my baby needed me, I…I…” She trailed off as her shoulders began to shake with sobs.

I gently rubbed between her shoulders. “No, it’s not your fault. You couldn’t have known. And…I mean, it wouldn’t have made any difference probably. We’ve tried everything.”

Jackie yanked away, her face hard. “That’s a lie. They would have had more records. Could have maybe traced the call or something. And I haven’t tried everything. I haven’t gone to look for her myself.”

Swallowing, I nodded. “Yeah, that’s true. But we wouldn’t know what we were looking for, right? Listen, I’ve got a call in to another P.I. A really high-rated one. I’ll put it on my card and we’ll get him to go find out what’s going on, yeah? I’ll hire him tomorrow. How does that sound?”

Staring into the distance, she just shrugged. “Sure. That sounds fine.”

I stayed over there another hour or so, and the next morning I lined up the new private investigator. I tried to call Jackie with the good news, but there wasn’t an answer. And when I went over to check on her, she was gone.


I spent the next two days looking for her: calling, asking people, going by and riding around. I was terrified something had happened to her or that…she had done something to herself. But as the police pointed out when I called them, there was no evidence of that. No indication of that or anything else sinister. Her car was gone, and there were signs that she’d packed a bag before leaving. Maybe, they suggested, she just wanted some time away from everything, and not telling her sister before she left wasn’t a crime.

It was on the afternoon of the third day that Jackie called.


I…I know, I know, Mar. I’m sorry. But I wanted to go to Empire for myself. See what I could find. And I knew if I told you, you’d either try to stop me or insist on going along. I didn’t want you being put at risk like that. And truth be told, in my heart of hearts I didn’t expect to find much when I got there.

The first day…I’d driven most of the night just to get there, but I was still hyped up. Wanted to get started on…whatever it was I hoped to get done by going. So I went into some of the stores and restaurants and showed Emily’s picture. Asked if anyone had ever seen her or heard about her being missing. I carried a couple of hundred of those old missing posters we still had and posted them all over too. Then I went by the sheriff’s office and the police department. They both remembered the investigator calling back when we found the voicemail, but they didn’t have anything else to tell me. Or at least they wouldn’t say anything else to me.

Because that’s the thing with that place. It’s…it’s not right. It’s a nice-looking town, almost like somebody’s dream of what a small town should be like really, and the people are all friendly, but something is behind their eyes. Like they are all in on a joke they aren’t willing to share.

By the end of that first day, I was about to go crazy. Wondered if I was already crazy. Paranoid. Looking for answers from the guy at the gas station or the place I ate lunch because I couldn’t accept there weren’t any answers to be found. Couldn’t admit that she’s really gone.

I’d gotten a room in the next town over, Jessica’s Resolve. I’d wanted one in Empire, but weirdly I couldn’t find any. There are motels and hotels there, but they all said they didn’t have any rooms free. And a couple of places they’d not-so-subtly suggested I go find a place in Jessica’s Resolve before it got dark.

That night, there was a knock on my door. My first thought was it was someone from the motel, but when I looked through the door…Mar, it was her! I swear to God it was. Standing out there like she’d just gone to get some ice or something. I threw open the door, but she wasn’t there anymore. Like she had just vanished. I looked around for her, screamed for her, and I didn’t see how she could have gone anywhere that fast without me seeing her, but she never came back.

I almost called you that night. I felt like I was breaking apart. Either she was still out there and needed my help, or I really was seeing things and I was the one that needed helping. But I was afraid. Afraid of confirming that it was all in my head, afraid of breaking the spell of whatever was happening there.

Because there is something magic here. I knew it as soon as I got into Empire. It’s not as strong in Jessica’s Resolve, but I can still feel it. Like a quiet hum from a power line. Something special is here. The air is thick with it.

But that’s not all. I…I’ve seen her twice more since then. Once last night, and again this morning. Just a quick glimpse and then she’s gone, but I know it’s her. She’s trying to tell me something or reach me and something is stopping her. I…I’m going back to Empire tonight. I’m going to find out what happens after dark and I’m going to get my baby back.


I had listened intently while Jackie talked, never interrupting for fear she might stop talking and hang up before I learned everything I could. Now that she seemed spent, I spoke to her gently, as though whispering to a wild horse I was afraid might break at any wrong sound or move.

“Jackie…honey, I understand. And I don’t think you’re crazy. But…um, you said you’re in a motel in a place called Jessica’s Resolve?”

There was a pause long enough I was afraid she might not answer, and then, “Yeah. It’s called the Pinwheel Motel.”

“Okay. How about you let me come and help you, huh? We can go back to Empire together. Would that be okay?”

I could immediately hear new tension in her voice. “No. Damnit, Mar, that’s why I didn’t want to call. I don’t want you to worry, but I don’t want you coming here. I’ve seen other stuff since that first day too. Stuff I don’t understand. I don’t want you around here. I just want to find our girl and get out.”

Sucking in a breath, I tried to keep my voice calm. “I get that. I do. And I appreciate it. But I can handle it. And we’ll have better luck if we’re both there together. Be safer too.”

“No. You’re already safe, and I want to keep it that way. I called so you wouldn’t worry, not to get you involved. I shouldn’t have ever said where I was. I…besides, I’m going tonight. You wouldn’t get here in time anyway.”

“Jackie, I’m heading out right now. Please wait for me. I’ll GPS it and get there as quick as I can.”

“No. Just stay away. Please.”

I went to respond, but she’d already hung up.


Jackie had been right. It was an eight hour drive, first on highways and then on country roads, and by the time ten o’clock came, my phone said I still had over two hours left to go before I reached Empire. It was as I was sitting it back down that it buzzed in my hand. Jackie was calling.

“She’s alive! Oh, God, I found her and she’s alive!”

I slammed on the brakes, stopping dead in the middle of a rural road as my hands began to shudder. “Really? You found her?”

Her voice was thick with emotion. “I did…oh I…Well, she found me really. I’d been riding around for awhile. Nearly every place was closed, and earlier than I’d have expected. The streets were mostly empty too. It was all very weird. But then I stopped at the park—you know the one she mentioned on the voicemail? I’d been over it three times during the day, but I decided to walk it at night, just in case.

“At first there was nothing. I was the only one out walking, and by the time I’d made a second circle, I was about ready to give up. And then I saw someone walking out of the woods toward me. It was her.

“She didn’t look like she had when I’d seen her for just a second or two the last few days. She…she’s been hurt a lot I think. She’s thin and worn-down looking. Dirty. But she came to me and recognized me. I think she’s in shock, but she was able to talk at least.”

I was crying now, my mind racing. “Did you take her to a doctor?”

“I…I was going to, but she said she didn’t want to. That she was okay. She just wanted to take a shower and get some rest. I thought about arguing, but I was so happy to see her, and I figured maybe she knew best what she needed. So I took her back to the motel and she’s cleaning up now.”

“Oh God. I…I’m so so happy. I…I’m on the way. About two hours away maybe, though I’ll have to reset the map thing for the motel. You said the Pinwheel?”

I could hear the happy tears in her voice. “Yes. That’s it. I…well, love you, Mar. Drive careful.”

“Love you too. See you soon.”


I sped the rest of the way there, making it to Jessica’s Resolve in an hour and a half and finding the motel shortly thereafter. There were only two cars in the long gravel parking lot of the Pinwheel, and I pulled in next to Jackie’s car. I’d forgotten to ask what room she was in, but before I could call her, something caught my eye.

Smoke was coming out from under the door of Room 17.

My first thought was fire, and I ran and started beating on the door, calling out to Jackie and Emily. There was no answer, and I realized that the smell filling my nostrils wasn’t of ash and fire, but a more acidic, rotting scent that make my stomach turn as I began to cough and choke.

Stepping back, I ran at the door, hitting it with my body, once, twice, and then a third time before it finally cracked and gave way. Stumbling into the room, I stared in shock and confused horror, unsure of what I was seeing.

It was a motel room, or it had been, but most of the furniture lay broken against the far walls and corners of the room. On the far side, I could see the door leading into the bathroom—the door hung askew and the yellow bulb over the sink showed the split open ruin of…what was that? It looked like some kind of large leathery ball or sack from a distance—its gray skin slick with some kind of shining liquid even as the dark opening coughed out more puffs of that foul-smelling smoke. I didn’t want to get closer to it, but I couldn’t have even if I wanted to.

Because most of the room’s floor was gone.

It looked as though something had broken through the floor there, broken through and tunneled deep into the earth. The hole was at least three feet tall and trailed back into the dark at a steep downward angle. None of it seemed possible, and for a moment I had the desperate, hopeful thought that I had the wrong room. This room was being rebuilt or condemned or something. There was something going on here that didn’t have anything to do with Jackie and Emily. I just needed to back out, call Jack, and find out…

I heard my sister scream from the darkness below.

“Jackie! Are you there? I’m here! I’m here!” My throat was tight with fear and it was all I could do to suck in enough air to shout down into that hole. What was this? A sinkhole? Maybe she was hurt down there?

Jackie didn’t answer, but instead let out another horrible, fainter scream. I couldn’t just stand up here and do nothing, and if I waited to call for help, it may be too late. Hands shaking, I turned on the light on my phone and crawled down into the ground.

The hole grew smaller further in, and it wasn’t long before I went from stooping to crawling on my hands and knees. I barely noticed. The walls and floor of the passage were lined with scrapes and scratches, and periodically I saw red smears that could only be blood. None of it made sense. The hole was almost a level tunnel now, and I didn’t see how the gentle slope downward would be enough to keep Jackie or Emily from climbing back out and going outside. Unless something has them, my mind whispered, unless something is dragging them down into the dark.

Gritting my teeth, I went on, and periodically I would hear a noise ahead of me, a bit closer now. Once I thought it was Jackie whimpering, but everything was muted and strange underground. If only I could…

I had come to a branching path. These dug out tunnels headed off in three different directions, and in that midnight crossroad, I felt small and exposed even with the weight of earth all around me. Maybe I should go back. Maybe I could help better by…I stopped the thought, ashamed of how afraid I was. How cowardly. No. I needed to help my sister. Find my niece. And now was the time, before I lost them both forever.

I shined my light around again, and at the edge of the beam I caught motion down the left tunnel. Turning, I crawled as fast as I could, ignoring the growing pain from the cuts on my knees and palms as I went deeper in. I was right, there was something…it was Jackie! Oh God, she looked into my light as something drug her away. Letting out a scream, I pushed forward, terrified I might lose them around a corner or new branch. I could hear Jackie muttering something now, but I wasn’t sure what it was. Her eyes were blank and staring, and I felt a terrible chill as I realized she’d stopped screaming, or even turning to look at me as I drew near.

Flinging myself forward with a grunt, I managed to grab her arm in one hand and a handful of her hair in the other, my discarded phone twirling to the dirt as I felt whatever was pulling her give a tug hard enough that it sent me forward onto my stomach. I was up on my knees again immediately, turning to sit down and pull on my sister as though she was a rope in a tug of war. The phone had come to a stop nearby and was facedown, so its light shone onto the ceiling of the hole and diffused the air with a pale and sickly glow.

At first I could only see Jackie, her expression blank except for her restless lips, arm slack as I pulled her more in my direction. But then I saw something moving toward me. Crawling up Jackie from outside the weak circle of light.

It was Emily, her skin grey and mottled, her eyes black as she stared at me with bared yellow teeth. She barely looked human, much less like the little girl I loved, but I knew it was her just the same. And when she let out a teakettle hiss, my heart thundered with fear even as it began to break again. This wasn’t shock or anything I could explain. Emily, this underground warren, all of it…it wasn’t right. It made no sense and it wasn’t right and oh God, she had Jackie’s arm now, pulling it away from me and she was too strong and how could any of this be and she was reaching for me now, reaching for my face and if she touches me I’ll go insane just let me die oh God I…

“Run.”

I looked down at the hoarse whisper from below me. Jackie’s eyes were clearer now, and when they met mine, they carried the same steely resolve she’d had when she was trying to find her little girl. I shook my head, but she cut me off.

“She’ll just take you too. Run. Before it’s too late.”

Trembling, I glanced back up at Emily. She had stopped her advance for the moment, her thin, dirty claw of a hand hovering a foot away from me like a threat. She looked down at Jackie and then back at me, her cracked lips spreading out into a terrible grin.

“Go, Mar. It’s the only way. I…I’ll stay with our girl.”

I wanted to argue, to fight for her, for both of them, but I was too lost. Too scared. So I let go of my sister. Began to crawl backward. I half-expected Emily to come after me, but she didn’t. She just smiled at me a moment longer and then began dragging her mother away until they were out of view and I was alone.

I…I don’t know how I made it out of there. The next thing I remember was being out in the parking lot of the Pinwheel, eyes almost swelled shut from the smoke and the crying as I fumbled to get my car started and get away. I drove until past sunrise, and it wasn’t until I got home that I realized I’d left my phone somewhere back in that dark.

When I finally woke up, I went over to Jackie’s place and got her old phone. I told myself I was just going to use it until I got a new one, but days passed and I never quite found the time to replace it. Instead, I kept looking at the pictures on it. Kept replaying that last vmail from Emily and crying myself to sleep.

And then last night, my phone…Jackie’s old phone…buzzed in the middle of the night, and when I answered, I heard Jackie’s voice on the other end of the line.

“Hey Mar. You should come back. Come back and see us.”

“Jackie? Is that you?”

“Course it is, silly. And Emily’s here too. We’re both here and we miss you.”

My heart ached for a moment, but then I remembered the thing in the dark. That was Emily now. And whatever was talking to me…

“You’re not Jackie. You sound like her, but you’re not really her. My sister and baby are dead.”

A rusty laugh crackled across the line. “That doesn’t make any sense. Come on, Mar. Come back and we can all be…”

I ended the call and flung the phone across the room, but it had barely landed before it was lit up and buzzing again. Stomach churning, I got out of bed and snatched it up, going outside to get a shovel and beat it to pieces before I started to dig a hole to bury it in.

I was crying as I worked. It felt a bit like I was digging a grave—a grave for my sister and Emily, a grave for a life I once had that was full of love and happiness. The phone lay on the grass like a venomous snake, black and shining and still, but far from safe. I kept shoveling, and when I was satisfied, I raked it into the hole and filled the spot in.

I’m getting a new phone and changing my number today. And when people ask me about my sister, my niece, I’m just going to lie. Not just to them, but to myself. Because I don’t want to remember the best parts of my life tainted that way. The people I loved the most tortured and corrupted into…I don’t know what…by something evil I don’t understand. All that love and happiness is just pain for me now, and all that fear and guilt is just poison that eats up my days.

So I’ll lie. And try to forget. And that part of me that still knows what happened? That still wants to find them again?

I’ll just bury it deep.

 

 

I Talked to God. I Never Want to Speak to Him Again

     About a year ago, I tried to kill myself six times. I lost my girlfriend, Jules, in a car accident my senior year of high school. I was...