6 Scary New Year Tales of Devils, Vampires, Zombies & Paranormal Evil!

Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:00):
You know my spooky is New Year's Eve is a
funny night. Everybody's dressed up, everybody's counting down, everybody's pretending
the clock can magically wipe the slate clean. But midnight
doesn't erase anything. Midnight just gives the darkness a fresh

(00:25):
calendar to work with. So tonight we're doing this the
right way, a full New Year's Eve horror marathon, six stories,
one right after the other, like a champagne fueled countdown,
where every pop is another door opening somewhere it shouldn't.

(00:48):
We've got Time Square packed shoulder to shoulder with strangers,
and one of them is hunting for the perfect midnight tradition.
We've got a once a year reckond that brings a
man back just long enough to settle the score. We've
got a Brew Year's Eve party that turns a historic

(01:09):
hotel into a trap. We've got a grimy late night
theater where the feature presentation might wake up something ancient.
We've got punk rock snow, and a road trip that
goes so wrong it shouldn't even be possible. And finally,

(01:30):
we've got a federal paranormal badass trying to keep New
Year's Eve from becoming a welcome party for something that
should never arrive. So top off your drinks, check your locks,
make sure you're subscribed, and if the fire works outside
sound more like footsteps, well keep on listening.

Speaker 2 (01:57):
Even the devil tells the truth sometimes.

Speaker 1 (02:01):
By Damn Wilder a weekly spooky or Wiginal. The first
couple of years, I just went for hookers. I figured
no one would go looking for those broads anytime. Soon.
It was simple. While everyone was staring at that big
stupid ball like a bunch of deer in headlights, I'd

(02:22):
find my gal taking her down an alley and doing
them up proper. A happy New Year's for me in theory. Anyway.
The problem is those bitches looked like they were relieved,
and why wouldn't they be. The knife was just another long,
hard object painfully crammed inside them, but this one brought

(02:46):
an end to their filthy existence. Christ it was so
hard to get excited over that work, but I did
my best. Damn, I've gotten ahead of myself again. I
suppose you want to know what makes me tick? Huh, well,
go fuck yourself, just messing with you. What do you

(03:07):
want to know? My parents were real pieces of work.
My dad drank his life away in every pisshole bar
down by the docks, and my mom sold ass in
the same I was unplanned, unwanted, and never made to
forget it. Except none of that hard luck garbage is true.

(03:29):
I grew up in a nice suburb. Mom was a
teacher and homemaker, Dad was an accountant. The biggest threat
to my childhood was the fact that I was spoiled, rotten,
or as spoiled as a middle class brat can be.
So what made me turn bad? I have no idea.
See back around seventy six or so, Beating the shit

(03:53):
out of strangers for no reason was how I got
my kicks. But little did I know this was going
to be the mozzarella stick planter before the eggplant parm
that is my career these days. Let me tell you anyway,
I'd pulped this cat down Chinatown Way, dig looking for

(04:15):
any ill gotten gains I could grab. I found some
sort of amulet in his left pocket, older than my
Aunt Petunia and expensive too. At least I hoped it
would be when I went upon it. That would have
to wait, though, because beating the shit out of a
man is hungry work. In my stomach. It was growling

(04:37):
something fierce. Thirty minutes later, I was kicked back in
my easy chair in my rat trap of an apartment,
Hamburger grease mixed with thin blood from that rare paddy
dripping down my arm. That's when I remembered my spoils.
I reached into my pants pocket and brought out that
glittering trinket, now covered with slop from my chow. That's

(05:01):
when that bauble went shiny and hit me with some
sort of mumbo jumbo magic that sent me sprawling across
the floor. Things went black for a hot second, but
when I came to he was just sitting there on
top of the giant zenith. Well, I say he, but

(05:22):
in truth, it may have been a she or a
human shaped lump of clam dip. Because no matter how
hard I stared at this thing, I could never get
a clear look at it. But I could tell it
was dressed to the nines and always smiling. What's so funny, pal,
I asked. That's when the fucker talked directly to my brain.

(05:46):
And while I can tell you what it said wasn't
in any language I'd ever heard, I understood every damn word,
the bit about immortality, the murder biz that would seal
the bargain one ex woman every midnight on New Year's Eve. Hell,

(06:06):
the son of a bitch even had a big contract
for me to sign, like something out of a goddamn
comic book. And naturally that pen was filled. You guessed
it with blood too much? Right, So YadA YadA, Lucifer
hookers and blood. And here we are New Year's Eve,
nineteen seventy nine, and it's time for a change. But

(06:30):
since not a lot of you clowns are familiar with
my work, let me take you through my nine to
five if you can pick up what I'm laying down.
I wake up round noonish. See. I set my own
hours so I can sleep in a real job perk
if you ask me so. Yeah, Shit, shower, shave, fry

(06:51):
up an egg maybe two for breakfast, orange juice and vodka.
Then on with the day's business the streets. And it
is cold as a witch's tit out here. But this
involves my work, the three hundred and sixty four days.
It isn't December thirty. First. I just kind of walk
around with a heart on and get as much attention

(07:15):
from the leather boys and hustlers as I can, marking
in my mind who is where and when? See the
devil is in the details. Then I take in a
porno flicker too, grab a dog or a slice, then
make my way back through the spank bank of earlier.
I go for the toughest, strongest looking laddie I can find.

(07:38):
Then I punch and kick the ever loving shit out
of them, rob them, and maybe do the same to
any tourists unfortunate enough to cross my path, and then
it's off for a cup of joe. What the hooker
thing only applies to the killing, and I only do
that to the ladies once a year to honor that bargain.

(08:03):
The rest of the year, they just ain't my bag.
Here's the rub. I don't really give a rats puckered
pink asshole about the living foreverthing. Who needs that static No,
I just I'm just thankful that someone put the notion
of killing a woman into my thick skull. Most of

(08:24):
the time, I don't think about dames at all unless
they're up on that stained silver screen. Plus it inspired
me to up my game in the whole inflicting pain
on my fellow man game that I've been so fond of.
Practice makes perfect and all that. Besides, who knows if
that shit would still apply anyway. I hawked that amulet

(08:47):
the next day for two hundred bucks and a six
or a bud. Where the fuck was I? Uh oh, yeah, yeah?
Might my day all day every day? So I head home,
take a shower, believe it or not, maybe throw in
a TV dinner, catch some tube you know what really
tickles my asshole with a feather, grabbing a paper and

(09:09):
seeing if anyone reports on the shit I do. Hey,
what can I say? I'm kind of like a gutter narcissist. Hey,
I went to high school just like everybody else. Anyway,
those rags never say a peep about me or the
meat I tend to rise, probably never will either. Fuck

(09:30):
them nighttime, more of the same. Really, I work two
shifts a day, seven days a week, and that's dedication
no one can match. And I don't even have a
union or nothing. Now that's January first to December thirtieth.
But that next day, that's where the shit gets serious.

(09:53):
I take a little personal time for the most of
the day, do a bump, maybe rub a few out,
grab a nice steak for Sizzler for lunch, real self
care type shit you did now. Most years I would
just hang out on the fringes of Times Square looking
for my mark. But as I said, this year was
gonna be a big one. So after Sizzler, I got

(10:16):
a haircut, just gotta look good for this, I yank
a magazine off the news stand and tear out a
sample of cologne. I wasn't kidding around here, folks, believe
you me class all the way. Anyway, I get to
Times Square early, and the one thing you out of
towner is watching from your big comfy couches. Probably don't realize.

(10:37):
Motherfuckers line up for this thing hours and hours before
anything is even going on, just standing in the cold,
hard street and milling around like fucking zombies or something.
I kick around for a bit, taking a drag on
a marb here and there. As I look around, I
have to admit there are some spectacular candidates out there,

(11:01):
much better than the ridden, hard and put away wet
flotsam and jetsam of the last few years. A strawberry
blonde with gigantic tits and braces that catch the now
setting sun when she flashes big smiles at her friend,
an equally attractive Spanish chick with the blackest hair I
have ever seen. You can bet those two are on

(11:23):
my shit list for sure, but they just ain't the one.
I continue my search. I see a cute Chinese girl here,
a sexy socialite there, all big ticket scores for sure,
But again I gotta feel this one in my balls.
Then it hit me, Fuck, it's cold out here. I

(11:46):
need a coffee, and his fate, if you believe in
such bullshit, would have it. There was a donut shop
directly across from me. I went in, ordered a cup
and took a load off for a tick. Now I
don't believe in fate, But then again, before a few
years ago, I never thought his infernal Majesty would be

(12:09):
sitting atop my boob tube pulling the old faust gag.
So here we are, anyway out of the ladies room.
She came, looking for all the world like an angel
in the flesh. Well, little angel, tonight's the night you
get your wings clipped. I watched her go up to

(12:34):
the counter in order. The way she moved I could
tell she was athletic. But there was more. Was she
a ballerina gymnast. Damned if I know, but she definitely
took care of herself, that's for sure. Her hair was
like spun gold. I liked that it would show the

(12:55):
blood better once I did the devil's business. Anyway, she paid,
walked out, and I followed her close, but not close
enough to look obvious. Dig Yeah, So she snaked back
through the crowds, the steam from her coffee trailing behind her,

(13:16):
which was leaving a nice trail for me to follow,
like that dude going through the Minotaur's maze. Damn, she
was with someone that would complicate things, but nothing I
can't handle. Just to have to think about how to
get her away from that bozo she's with. That's when
fortune smiled upon me for the second time that night.

(13:41):
There was that fool with his clipboard, and you know
he was just on a power trip like no other,
just wandering the crowd looking for the most photogenic folks
he could find and moving them right in line with
the unblinking camera eye that would beam this bullshit into
homes nationwide. He'd be easy. I dealt with dudes his

(14:02):
size every ding dong freaking day. Hey, buddy, you know
that big shot producer running this thing. I noticed the
lanyard around the hot SHOT's neck. Damn it, Now, where
did my lanyard go? I really played up looking for
it too. Oscar material here for sure? You uh? You
mean Jim? Yeah, Jim, he wants to talk to your

(14:25):
ass pronto. Shit, probably wants me to get him a coffee.
Can't he see I'm trying to make this show special.
I mean, look at the prime trim I've picked out
of what was your name again? Bill? I lied first
year working the show. The fool was actually buying this crap. Yeah,

(14:46):
does it show? I pointed to where the lanyard should
be and chuckled, Eh, you'll be fine. Now where was Jim?
This way? Follow me. I know a shortcut that'll take
us right past this mess. The people were becoming packed
in like sardines. The room followed me like a lemming,
right into the alley, where I smashed his fucking head

(15:07):
in against the ice covered bricks so many times the
walls started to steam from the sprays of his hot
blood that splashed on it again and again. I grabbed
that clowns clipboard and lanyard, and I made my way
back to where I saw my angel last, and there
she was, just where I left her. Time to get

(15:30):
the show on the road. Excuse me, miss yes, pretty
and shy too, Jackpot, How would you like to come
up front and watch the show? I worked for the network.
I pointed to the lanyard for emphasis. Oh, I don't know.
Then her man actually became an accomplice in her pending murder.

(15:51):
You have to you'll be on TV. But can he come? Sorry,
producers want ladies only. I don't know, No, sweat doll,
I'll ask somebody else. I turned to walk away, like
really playing it broad. Come on, Miranda, you have to go.
This is a once in a lifetime kind of thing.

(16:13):
You don't mind. No, we'll just meet here after the
ball drops. Uh okay. I extended my arm and she
took it with a slightly trembling hand. I led her
on and on few twists here, a few turns there,
and before you know it, we arrive at one Times Square.

(16:34):
And that's where things started to go south for yours cruelly.
As I brought her closer, old Miranda got more and
more nervous, and by the time I showed her my
long hard blade, she bolted straight for the foyer of
that famous edifice without any hesitation. Mother fucking track and field.

(16:57):
I should assust that out two cock, the old man,
I thought, as I played wolf to her scared rabbit
and gave pursuit. She'd already roused the half asleep rent
a cop that now leaped in my path. I flashed
him my badge and mumbled something about some teenager who
had mooned the network's cameras and the dumb bastard. He

(17:18):
let me pass without any hesitation. I saw a quick
flash of the rabbit as she bolted up the stairway
and out of sight. Fuck that noise, I was elevator bound.
I stopped the car a few floors up. As the
door slid open. I could see only the back of
her shoes as she ascended even higher. It did hit
me at some point that if she bothered to notice

(17:39):
I was on the elevator and not running up those
damn steps behind her, that she simply had to go
back down the stairs as I continued going up like
a prize winning dumbass. Oh well, here's to fear making
folks make horrible decisions. My ace in the hole, the
elevator hit the top floor, the door hissed open, and

(18:00):
my little bunny was nowhere to be found. Now, what
in the hell is this crap? I stuck my head
out the elevator and whap a kick right across the chops.
Fucking karate too. This kid was full of surprises, that
was for sure. Damn she knocked me right on my ass. Slowly,

(18:20):
I stood and shook my head, trying to get those
damn spots and stars from swirling around in the air.
That's when the breeze hit me, cold as a witch's
tit and ten times as hard the roof. The bitch
had gone out onto the roof. With my wits about
me once more, I bolted into the hall and immediately

(18:42):
saw the roof access door wide open. Oh well, I
wanted something to spice things up, and I I guess
I got my wish, that's for sure. But god damn
if those sullen eyed whorees didn't look real good right
about now. Let me tell you. I emerged onto the
roof and immediately got stung by the biting hold. I

(19:04):
need to get this shit over and get my ass home.
Maybe h throw a hungry man in the oven and
sip a beer ten as the Late Late Show on
spools on WPIX. That's when I saw her leaning against
the framework of the tower that would soon send that
glittering ball that illuminated her porcelain puss skyward. I wasted

(19:26):
no time and charged toward her like a freight train.
Her eyes grew wide, and she shimmied up that tower
like grease lightning. Fine, if that's what it takes, I'm game.
As we made it to the top, I swear to
you with the crowd below gasped and unison. What would
mister and missus America say at home? Whatever screw those
tamed monkeys this year, We're going off script for the

(19:48):
ultimate act of performance art, and this girly's body it's
gonna be my canvas. Finally we made it to the top,
and my quarry decided it was time to engage me
in fisticuffs hundreds of feet above Old Manhattan Town. A
well landed punch here, a slice and dice there, and
we were almost on equal footing until that damn ball

(20:10):
lifted off and began heading our way. On and on
we battled until that freaking ball was at our feet
and That is when I put my faith in Satan,
grabbed that girl by the throat, and kicked off that
tower with superhuman force. I swear to you, it seemed
like we fell forever, intertwined as lovers. And let me

(20:32):
tell you this climax. It was gonna be a gusher.
And then all went black with a moist splat as
a soundtrack. I flashed in and out of consciousness. But
I shit you not. Someone actually said it was beauty
that killed the beast. Like hell, it was I threw

(20:55):
us off that tower. Then all went black as midnight
for what seemed like forever. Then I heard a drum
growing louder and louder. Turns out it wasn't a drum,
but something a little more personal. I gasped as I
woke up in the city Morgue, and as I swung

(21:20):
myself off the cold steel table on which I lay,
I thought, Prince of lies my acts? Now, where are
my clothes? Satan's Shotgun by Daniel Wilder. I had a

(21:49):
revelation come New Year's Eve of eighteen ninety nine. Jesus
ain't nothing I reckon. I could resurrect myself like a
right heavyweight champion long as my boy bones held out,
that is. But admittedly I couldn't hold a candle to
that water to rotgut routine, and I sure as fuck
couldn't walk on water, and they're sure as shit ain't

(22:10):
any virgins in my vicinity. I guess I truly meant
that coming back from the dead wasn't any great shakes.
What brought me to that bid o revelation were the
events of nearly twelve years prior eighteen eighty seven. If
you can cipher the night Gideon Pharaoh's Nightmare Zodiac Death
Gang came a knocking, And that's exactly as those hocus

(22:33):
pocus braggarts build themselves too. Nightmare Zodiac Death Gang should
have spent more time practicing with pistols than coming up
with candy ass gang titles. But I digress. You see,
I was a simple man that farming maybe a bit
of trap, and not to mention interpreting for the local
tribes and those they caught in to trade with. It

(22:53):
wasn't the high life, but it was good enough for me,
Elizabeth and our boy Lazarus. That name was a bit
of a on the nose serendipity that the fates served
up to us by and the bye, let me tell
you true, And I sure as hell wasn't amused to
weren't eighteen months after our boy's birth that the sack
headed sidewinder Gideon and his posse arrived on our doorstep

(23:15):
and ended his life and his mama's. But as was
their folly, they never checked if my heart had stopped,
And to be fair, I never asked them why they
were so sore with me and mind. So yeah, mistakes
were made all around on that day. So once their
devilish deeds were done, they headed off into the still
night with inaria thought of the hell they had borne

(23:37):
that day. And still my heart continued to beat like
a native drum, a doom dirge, banging away to attract
any midnight motherfucker within six hundred and sixty six yards
and a track. It surely did. The shaman entered what
remained of our home casual as can be. The fully

(23:58):
bandaged man. He led on a leaf followed, seemingly devoid
of thought as well as grace. He slinked his way
over to me like a mongoose, all sinew and glide,
the bones around his waist clanking together like the gnashing
teeth of some desert devil risen from an unholy hell,
ready to feast. As my eyes strained to focus, I

(24:18):
saw that bastard light a fire of green flame, a
flame he used to rend the prone form of my
boy to ashes and bone. In as much time as
it takes to tell, I admit the darkness took me then,
as I was a powerful sight, weaker in constitution than
I am now, though I have a dread vision of
that bandaged fellow placing a lipless mouth over my own

(24:41):
and blowing a dust that reaked a high hell of
rock deep into my lungs, that made them feel as
if they was filled with the fire of old Scratch himself.
I came to walking along a trail deep in the
nearby Adirondacks, a foul scented wrapping from the shaman's friend
tied tightly around my eye. While you may get to

(25:01):
thinking that would seriously impede my journey, the exact opposite
held true. I could sense where I was going, and
just where the first of those I sought were hunkered down.
So onward I trecked my boy's bones rattling, and the
leather sack strapped to my left shoulder. That same rattle
let any man or beast in my path know that
I surely was not to be fucked with. As I

(25:23):
began my stride along Revenge's rough road. I walked those
wicked woods until the sun fell low and the sky
was streaked in hues of lavender and rose. And it
was then I came upon the cabin on New Year's Eve,
painted as it were in two differing colors, sky blue
and soft pink, the abode of Gemini, two doses of

(25:46):
poison in one pill. The smoke that poured from the
chimney let me know those that needed correcting were home,
sweet home. I didn't stand on formality. The door exploded
inward from the impact of my left shit kicker, splinters
spreading out like buckshot, acting as my calling card. It
took me a fraction of a second to realize no

(26:06):
one was visible in the room, magic eyewear or no.
But I could smell them just fine. Naturally, they didn't
surprise me none when they exploded from the shadows of
the cabin ceiling. However, the fact that they could move
together like a great spider in their conjoined state definitely
raised an eyebrow. I unloaded my rifle with a thunderous roar.

(26:27):
The shot tore a nice chunk of whatever the lady
side of this thing was called. But she wasn't going
down by a long shot. Before I knew it, the
mail side of the equation had maneuvered himself in such
a way that he both knocked me to the ground
and managed to wrap the fleshy band that kept these
two eternally bound around my neck. That same bit of
flesh began flexing and throbbing until I couldn't draw a breath.

(26:48):
The various veins and sinew contained under that warm sleeve
pulsing like a bag of snakes. Things began swirling and
growing ever darker. That's when I died for the first time.
The shaman appear shortly thereafter, though my enemies never noticed,
although if they did, I wager they'd have been confused
as all get out. See that fella simply strolled in,

(27:10):
leaned low, and whispered in my ear. He was a bone.
I didn't quite gather what he was on about, but
it seemed like a question I should answer in the affirmative.
He reached into my rucksack, pulled out one of the
twelve bones of my boy that clattered inside, and shoved
that room covered ivory femur right in my mouth. It
dissolved on contact with my tongue, and I was back

(27:32):
in business. I sat up, puked, and roared at my killers,
who had now sat down to a nice, warm meal
after their deed was done. What I did next would
become a bit of a legend. See. I grabbed the
steak knife out of the hand of the twin closest
to me, who honestly didn't even resist, probably the shock
of a corpse interrupting his din din. Anyway, I took

(27:55):
that blade and commenced to slice that ribbon that held
them together like a rabid wolf. But then I had
a pang of conscience. These two had been together since
day one, so it would be a shame to take
that away from them. Fortunately I learned to sew at
a tender age. I can only imagine the look on
Gideon's face when he saw one or two, not sure

(28:18):
how they counted themselves anyway, saw a member of his
posse fixed mouth to crotch of their opposite number, like
those yin Yang symbols the Chinese fellas out west were
so fond of, and imagine it would have to be
as Once my work was done, I sunk into the
earth outside the Gemini's doorstep, and there I slept for
a full year. And so it went. At the very

(28:46):
end of each and every year, I'd rise up and
put a murder on one of those psychos Pisces, hard
to breathe with concrete in your gills, Taurus. Let's just
say he wasn't just a bull from the shoulders up,
but that would be his undoing when I rammed that
tally whacker straight down his throat. Aries Leo, cancer, Sagittarius,

(29:07):
Virgo Libra, Capricorn, Aquarius, dead dead dead dead dead dead
dead and double dead, don't ask. Year after year I fought,
and year after year I lost a little bit more
of my boy peace by piece. Finally I came to Scorpio.

(29:30):
And if you think the other menagerie made for a
one of a kind corpse gallery, I can assure you
all that that final member of that gang, minus their
ring master. But I'll get to his arcane ass and
a tick. See after the decade and change of Carnival
exhibits i'd tussled with. I wouldn't blame you none if
you wagered Scorpio would be some kind of insect man.
But it wasn't hell. It wasn't even a man. As

(29:53):
you could guess from the hiring of those darling siblings
I jawed about earlier, Gideon didn't give a single shit
if those that worked for him were men or women,
A real rarity as far as evil posses went. In
the late eighteen hundreds. Of course, half those motherfuckers would
be a right challenge to even classify as human. When
I sauntered up to that gypsy wagon Lady Scorpio called home,

(30:15):
I could just tell I was in for a hell
of a time. The scent of burning herbs filled the air,
and the roaring flame burning brightly beside the gaudy wagon
was doing a solid job of roasting a large pheasant.
I hunkered down by the fire. It always feels good
to warm my hands after pointing my boots toward the
sky for twelve months. The lavender and crimson curtains that

(30:37):
covered the entrance to the wagon parted, and she appeared,
a raven haired beauty with eyes as cruel and cold,
then as a whole nest of vipers could possess. I
told Guinean, doing your wife and boy was a grave mistake. Well,
it's a mistake that will surely put you in your grave, Missy.
She laughed, and I had to admit it was an

(30:57):
unbelievably delicate thing. If that is to be my fate,
there is little I can do to change it. I
spit at her feet. Yep, won't you come inside a moment.
It's your funeral. You can have it anyway you want.
I entered the wagon and beheld the interior, which contained
nothing save for an opulent bed. I sat down and

(31:19):
waited for the show to start. She slid into the
bed beside me, pushed me down and started to rub
up against me, all feline like. I grabbed her hair,
tugged it hard, and whispered the most romantic thing I
could think of into her ear. This is for Lizabeth.
I drove the blade of the hunting knife through the
back of her head before she could even realize I

(31:39):
had pulled it from my left boot. She made that
weird gargle, whistling exhale thing that you never really got
used to. Then the light, and those big brown eyes
went dim. Should have started with this one. I managed
to remove my knife from her skull and kick her
ass right out of the wagon in a near seamless movement.

(32:00):
I heard her hit the ground and then splash her skin,
flew through the curtains and collided with the far wall
of the wagon with a sickening sound akin to pig
innards being thrown at a whorehouse. Ah here we go,
I said, as the giant scorpion clickity clacked through the entryway.
The odd thing about this here scorpion is it had

(32:22):
a great set of breasts and a tail equipped with
a rather rainery looking cock where the poisonous sting should
have rested. I'm going to fuck you one way or another.
Lover to be spat from a mouthful of spearlike teeth
and bad intentions, get in lines, sister. I drew my
iron and unloaded on that nightmare with barrel of blazon.

(32:43):
That damn tail whipped at me again and again. His
scorpio's face looked like a vat of prize winning chili,
and to my horror, the loads that appended shot were
some sort of vile acid. While the walls of the
wagon began to dissolve. The bitch stopped her bucking well,
fuck me, silly, I didn't die go around. I wonder
if I'll still take a dirt nap, yep, I said,

(33:05):
as I folded into the cold earth for the first
time in years, I dreamed. I saw my family, the
unspeakable terror life had become the soul crushing scream into
the abyss I'd make year after year as I was
reborn to put down one monster after another. And I

(33:25):
saw that burr lap headed bastard that had made this
all so. And I saw children, unfamiliar children with their
faces tinted a glowing blue, the exact same hue of
which I had never seen the like of before. Guess
what day it is. That's right, the day I end

(33:46):
the life of that masked son of a bitch and
finally rest in peace. That's the theory anyway. The morning
of New Year's Eve eighteen ninety nine, I had that
Jesus I mentioned at the start of this yarn, and
I found myself wandering the streets of old Manhattan Town,
beastly bandages in place. Everything was cold, gray until I

(34:11):
got that unholy vision that Gideon was well and truly
a man about town, though he wore a false human
face over his rough mask. I followed him around a pace,
but he seemed to make stops at random, and although
he made no indication that he knew I was there,
I knew damn well he did. Finally he got the

(34:34):
drop on me after a rather well executed disappearing act
in the bowery. Let's retire to my residence and talk
this through a dead man, he pard yep, I answered.
We entered the luxurious townhouse Gideon called home. Please relax,

(34:57):
Gideon said, gesturing to an array of sofas and chairs
that festooned his abode. I took a load off on
a nearby Persian rug. That furniture was doubtless cursed and
would spell my doom if I dare put my ass
upon it. Are you a gambling man, he asked? Not
by nature, no I am, And if I had to

(35:18):
play my hand, I would wager. You want to know
why I chose you and your kin to slaughter? The
thought had crossed my mind a time or two. If
I'm to be honest, I answered, true, I had heard
that if you do someone a cosmic level injustice, like
a random killing, for instance. Then powerful magic is revealed
to those willing to travel a dark path. You heard rightly,

(35:42):
he gestured toward my rucksack. The magic my son, your
son became the rarest of magics. You should be kissing
my feet for this gift. I see it a tad different,
I wager you do. Nevertheless, my theory was correct. Nevertheless,
you should have listened to your pet, bug Scorpio. She

(36:06):
was always the most in tune of my menagerie. Was
is the operative word? I care little that you killed
any of those sideshow attractions. You're all heart, No, I'm
all business. How so, I queried, Let's say you give
me that last bone in your sack, and I let

(36:28):
you walk out of here and live a long and
happy life. Let's say I do. What does that give me?
An eternity without those I love, those you took from me? True,
but a life is a life. I thought on this
a spell, and I had me a revelation. Hold on,

(36:49):
you'll see fine, you want the bone? Here it is.
I removed my son's skull from the sack and held
it up for that snake to see. Glorious, Please, let
me hold it. The shaman spoke into my ear for
the last time. I nodded. I tossed my boy's skull

(37:10):
to Gideon, and as that bone grew ever closer, I
drew my pistol and fired. The skull exploded. When the
bullet hit the bone, The shaman laughed. His Egyptian pal laughed.
I laughed Gideon, however. Gideon, however, did most assuredly not laugh.
The shards of the skull became missiles and pierced Gideon's
mask in a hundred razor sharp volleys. He did that

(37:33):
gargle thing and fell like a sack of potatos. That's that, then,
I said, I waited for some sort of cosmic redemption.
Would I stand before my family once more? Would I
finally be able to rest? A glowing letter A appeared
in the sky. A glowing s followed it, and another

(37:56):
s ass. Real cute, I thought, as I finally succumbed
to the darkness. Brent laughed ass classic. Yeah, man, this
game is so easy if you have enough quarters, Todd said,
I've beaten it like a hundred times. The duo walked

(38:16):
away from the cabinet as the attract screen of Satan's
shotgun called out to the next player, and Elizabeth and
Lazarus died anew a few cold ones by David o'han.

(38:37):
The man stood alone in the parking lot, watching a
chip bag roll like a tumbleweed across the asphalt. The
abandoned Kmart no longer held any of its corporate branding.
The moss and mildew speckled bricks were covered in graffiti,
and the windows glazed over with years of grime. The

(38:57):
man pulled his gown up in a bunch and aimed
at the graffiti, relieving himself between a proclamation of love
and a smiley face. The stream slapped against the brickwork
and splattered the toes of his filthy hospital slippers. He
groaned he needed to get real clothes if he was

(39:18):
going to enjoy his self awarded release from the Curletti Institute.
Kmart had always been his favorite store. The long shifts
at the Poultry Plant sapped most of the joy from
his life. Then he discovered this particular store. Every Sunday,
he set the tone for the week by coming in

(39:38):
to get all his essentials, enjoy the hospitality, and visit
with the employees, especially Diane. He scratched at the fat
scar between the silver waves of hair. He would never
forget his first love. He was sure she hadn't forgotten him.

(39:58):
He'd see if he could find Once he got himself together,
Whispers from inside snapped his mind back to the present
and curled his lips in a malevolent smile that spread
like a tearing wound. He leaned his face close to
a fist size hole in the window. Nothing was stirring
between the leftover shelves and racks. A camera flash lit

(40:23):
a corner of the store. The sudden illumination left dots
flickering in his vision, but for the briefest moment he
saw the two urban explorers reflected in a spider webbed mirror.
He covered his mouth to hide his giggling. Kmart was
still the best place to do his shopping. Brew Year's

(40:47):
Eve is about more than just busty beer wenches and
dollar pints, Darren said, with a swing of his arm
that splashed beer from his glass and onto his shoes.
It's about the resilience of the American people in the
face of puritanical religious fervor. Maggie Mills rolled her eyes.
It's about getting drunk off your ass at the Florida

(41:09):
Georgia line and belching your ABC's with the other Neanderthals.
I can make it all the way to oh Darren chortled.
Brew Year's Eve was Oklahoma's largest beer festival. Its exponential
growth and one of a kind setting attracted beer connoisseurs
from across the country. Three thousand attendees meandered the grounds

(41:31):
of the Old Springer Hotel. Short bursts of fireworks detonated
overhead every hour in a countdown to the new year.
Local bands cycled on and off the grand stage to
the east of the building to get the crowd fired
up for the headliners. How Love Rocket was still riding
the success of their nineteen eighty six hit Sweet Cream

(41:53):
was Anyone's guests, but their appearance added another fifty dollars
to the already steep admission. Vendor tents lined the manicured
western yard with an assortment of wares that rivaled most malls.
On the south lawn, party goers gambled on carnival games
for a chance to win cash and prizes. The northern

(42:15):
sprawl directly in front of the hotel was a smoky
haze of mingling scents from the rows of food trucks
and between them and the entrance. The hotel's ornate fountain
featured Poseidon rising from a tower of logger, spewing sea life,
with his trident thrusting into the sky. Beneath the watchful
eye of stained glass rose windows six stories overhead. Two

(42:40):
hundred scantily clad serving girls gracefully prowled through the sea
of people with trays of beer, and then quickly sprinted
back to the dressing room to empty the tips from
their haltertops before making another round. Look around you, Maggie,
this is historical. Darren spread his arms wide. At the

(43:01):
backdrop of the once lavish hotel. A vinyl banner fluttered
in the chill breeze over its doors. Happy brew Year
from Okay Brewing. The name's okay, but the beer is legendary.
Darren's right. For once, Maggie's boyfriend Carlton put an arm
around her waist. These guys did something really amazing here

(43:25):
is that? So Maggie held his chin in place as
one of the wenches bounced past them. And what could
be more amazing than all this cleavage and cheap beer
Maggie's best friend and Darren's girlfriend, Karen giggled, we're in
the Springer Hotel, Darren said, matter of factly. Maggie shrugged,

(43:46):
and Carlton held up a finger. How about I show you?
The other three followed him through the crowd. They rounded
the beer fountain and went to the main entrance, where
Carlton slapped the brickwork. A series of pock marks dotted
the facade, beside a bronze plaque emblazoned with the name

(44:06):
Carlton pointed to the food vendors. On this night in
nineteen thirty one, sixty prohibition agents led by two gun
Heart pulled up. Where those trucks are now? He said,
The Springer Hotel refused to acknowledge prohibition. Everyone knew it,
but no one wanted to risk the wrath of Ferrell Springer.

(44:30):
But Hart was al Capone's big brother. Darren interrupted, and
brass balls are genetic, So what happened? Karen moved closer
to hear Over the crowd. Ferrel stepped out the front
door and shouted, if you're coming in, it's drinks for
a dollar or lead for free. Carlton whipped his hand

(44:51):
up with his fingers making a gun, and then he
fired a single shot, taking the hat right off Heart's head.
Maggie poked a finger into a bullet hole and they
returned fire. Boy did they, Darren said. The barrage killed
Farrell and three bystanders in the lobby. The guests started

(45:13):
pulling guns and the hotel became a battleground. Carlton jerked
his head to the door and they continued inside. Nine
people died in the shootout, and a store of moonshine
caught fire, killing six more and destroying the west wing.
It was the largest mass killing in the history of
Carpenter County. Darren added, barely, Otis Kilgore's Christmas party only

(45:38):
missed the mark by one. Carlton said with a snicker.
He snapped his fingers and smiled wide. Did you hear
Netflix is doing a movie about Otis? I hope they
get Kevin Smith to play him. Carlton laughed, that'd be
a riot. My babysitter used to tell me Otis would
come and get me if I didn't listen to her. Used,

(46:01):
who tells a six year old that most of the
babysitters in Ittawa? Darren shrugged. Maggie sneered and nodded in agreement.
Remembering her own sitter's warnings, the couples made their way
through the lobby and up the wide staircase between its
hand carved rails. In ninety three, Oka bought the hotel

(46:23):
and started restoring it for their headquarters as a slap
in the face to the prohibition days. The top two
floors make up their offices, and they built their brewing
facility on the ruins of the west wing. Carlton laughed,
you can't tell me that's not the coolest story in
the world. Maggie leaned on the banister and watched the
crowd in the lobby. What about the other three floors

(46:47):
haunted as shit? Darren chugged the rest of his beer
and whistled for a server yep, Carlton added. They renovated
the rooms and rent them out as a tourist attraction.
Everyone that's ever stayed here claimed they saw weird things.
Maggie lifted the festival pass hanging from the lanyard around

(47:07):
her neck with a room key, and where spending the
night with the ghosts and the drunks. What could go wrong?
A maniacal shrill guffaw answered, and Carlton spun in a start.
His hand swiped the glass from the giggling guest's hand
on accident, and splashed the contents across Karen's blouse. The

(47:28):
sheer material clung to her, revealing the bare breasts beneath.
She screamed at the icy shock of IPA and then
covered up in embarrassment. Her free hand slapped the partygoer's
cheek on reflex. The wide grin melted from the man's
weathered face as the red handprint formed in its stead.

(47:49):
He picked up the plastic pint glass from the floor
and twisted it between his fingers, glaring at Karen through it.
He pressed the rim into Carlton's chest. Ain't that's something,
not even a crack, he giggled again, in a pitch
that betrayed his stocky build. Yeah, lots of new things

(48:09):
in the world, huh, Carlton cleared his throat. Seriously, sorry
about that, though, no sense crying over spilled hooch, the
man said with a chuckle, before turning to Karen. And
you shouldn't be so quick to hide such wonderful tits.
At least let an old man earn the smack he
gave him, He licked his plump lips. What the fuck

(48:32):
did you say? Darren grabbed the back of the man's
shirt and slung him to the wall. Darren, take it easy,
Carlton called out. He took a step forward, fists clenched
and ready to defend Karen's honor. When a walking refrigerator
whisked between them like a leaf on a breeze, Darren's
face bounced off a muscular chest. The security guard glared

(48:54):
down at Darren and growled for him to be cool.
That high pitched giggle pierced the c again, and the
guard turned to give the man the same warning. The
goliath pressed his finger into the man's chest. I don't
see a pass around your neck, he grumbled. The man
giggled again and made a show of padding down his

(49:15):
own torso. I seem to have set it down somewhere,
he scratched at the barren stretch of flesh where the
scar created a second part in his hair. I'll bet
I left it in the restroom, if you'd like to
escort me to retrieve it. The security guard clamped his
hand on the back of Giggle's neck and led him away.
I think I'll do just that, pal, What in the

(49:38):
actual fuck? Darren shook his head, just some harmless old goon.
Carlton said, come on, Karen, let's go to your room
and get you cleaned up. Maggie hooked her arm through
Karen's and turned to Carlton. She kissed his cheek. We'll
meet you two at the bar. I came for the fireworks,
not to watch you too get into a drunken brawl.

(49:59):
Behave you sure this is the bathroom you used? The
guard grunted, Oh, yes, I'm positive of it. The man
smoothed his hair in the mirror. I suppose it's possible
I left it in my room. However, what's your name?

(50:20):
The guard unclipped his radio. I'll go have someone check
for it. The man chewed his bottom lip, tittering excitedly.
The hell is your deal? Man? Hain't nothing funny about that.
My name's Otis, he cackled, suddenly, making the guard jump.
He tucked his hands in his pockets and looked around
the bathroom. Can you stop being creepy as shit long

(50:42):
enough to tell me your last name too? It's kill
Gore Otis kill gore. Otis straightened up, all right, Otis.
The guard raised the radio and paused, Hey, wasn't that
the guy that killed all The lady jabbed into the
crevice of his hip, and then glided up his body

(51:04):
and threw the thick cords of his neck. ODIs pumped
the pocket knife into his kidney and lung before the
giant batted him away. Otis crashed through the stall door
and landed on a toilet. The guards stomped toward Otis,
who tapped his feet gleefully. The behemoth slipped in the
arterial blood cascading down his body and crashed to his knees.

(51:25):
ODIs stood and stroked the man's cheek. Pardon my amusement,
ODIs chuckled, But you can't have slaughter without laughter. He
jammed the knife through the guard's ear and tipped him over.
He snorted in an attempt to suppress a burst of excitement.

(51:45):
ODIs bent and retrieved the radio from the man's belt.
He pressed the call button. I need a room check
on a rowdy guest. He wheezed ten four. What's the name?
A voice answered, I'm afraid I didn't catch the last name.
With all the commotion, ODIs said, I heard his buddy

(52:06):
call him Darren. A long moment of silence followed before
the voice came back. Looks like we got a Darren
Hildebrand in three three say, uh, who is this? I
don't recognize the voice. Otis giggled. Can you believe that asshole?

(52:29):
Karen pressed a cigarette between her lips. Have you got
a light? Darren insists on lighting them for me. Maggie
looked beside her to the crystal ashtray on the dresser
and collected the book of matches bearing the Oka Brewing
logo compliments of the house. She broke one off and
struck it. Karen puffed the cigarette to life, holding her

(52:50):
soaked blouse up for examination before dropping it into the
trash can. She blew smoke from the corner of her mouth.
It had probably stained before we got home. Anyhow. Maggie
tucked the matches into her jeans. The only thing I
love more than your thriftiness is your modesty. Want to
put your boobs away now? Karen pressed them together. Jealous

(53:12):
much Maggie man chest. She laughed, then realized the high
school nickname still struck a nerve. Sorry, Mags No, biggie.
Maggie stood and stretched and flicked Karen's nipple. Ouch. Karen
covered up and retrieved her suitcase. Fine, I'll put them away,
you salty bitch. You enjoyed it, Maggie winked and collected

(53:36):
the cigarette. Hurry up, we need to babysit the boys
before they do something stupid. Karen slipped on a new
shirt and buttoned it quickly. You don't think that creepy
old man will bother us again, do you? Between booze
and dementia, he probably won't realize he's met us Before
Maggie opened the door and waved for her to follow.
Karen grabbed her lanyard and tossed it over her neck

(53:59):
before rushing to catch up. I'm just worried, is all
Karen said, as she struggled with a few more buttons
before giving up. If she showed enough cleavage, someone might
mistake her for a beer wench and tipp her at least.
Oh shit, what now, Maggie rolled her eyes. I forgot
my clutch, Karen smacked Maggie's ass. Keep the guys at

(54:20):
the bar and I'll be right down. Karen twisted the
antique key in the lock and stepped into the room.
The handbag was waiting on the edge of the dresser.
Her eyes flicked on the stains on the carpet, ruddy
footprints that turned to a tight circle. Her lip quivered
and the cigarette fell away. The realization hit her a

(54:42):
moment before the door slammed shut and the hand clamped
over her mouth. You're not as pretty as my last girlfriend,
ODIs hissed over her shoulder. Wet steel lifted the blouse
from her skin. But I bet you're beautiful on the inside.
She screwed into his palm. As the blade sank in,

(55:02):
ODIs shrieked with laughter and slid the knife down, separating
buttons and flesh. Karen squirmed for freedom, emptying her torso
that much quicker? What's taking Karen so long? Carlton checked

(55:23):
his watch again. A screaming guest cut off any reply.
The trio ran toward the commotion. A man vomited in
the hall, while another sobbed against the chevron wallpaper. A
guard pushed his way into the bathroom and shouted profanities
at his discovery. Maggie nudged through the crowd for a
better look the bloodpool told her to stop, but she

(55:45):
leaned into the bathroom further and saw the corpse sprawled
on the tile. She slapped a hand over her mouth
and ran back to the guys that guard from earlier.
She whimpered, he's been killed. Let's go get Karen and
get the fuck out of here, Darren said. They made

(56:05):
their way to the staircase when a serving girl wiggled
to them with a gift bag in her hand. Are
you Darren, she asked. Darren nodded. She held up the bag.
Some old guy gave me twenty bucks to bring this
to you, he said. It was an apology for earlier.
She handed over the bag and waited around for a tip.

(56:26):
When it was clear there wasn't one, she huffed and
scampered off. Darren looked around the crowd for the man.
Y'all go get Karen and I'll wait here. That sick
fuck said he was going to the bathroom. Remember, Maggie
tugged Carlton's arm. They made it to the landing when
Darren shrieked and fell to his knees. The couple ran

(56:46):
back down, and Carlton threw an arm around his friend.
What happened. Maggie picked up the bag and looked inside,
immediately dropping it and turning to puke. Jesus. Carlton whispered.
The tipped bag spilled its contents on the floor before them.

(57:08):
Carlton's eyes locked onto the severed breasts. He slid away
from them and tried to stand before fainting at the
foot of the stairs. Maggie wiped her mouth on her
sleeve in time to see Darren storming up the staircase.
I'm coming, motherfucker, he shouted. I'm going to tear your
goddamn heart out. More people were pushing down the hall

(57:31):
to see what the commotion was, and more screams echoed
out of the bathroom when they found out someone pulled
a fire alarm. The claxon sounded with staccato bursts of
strobe lights. The squeaking wheels of an antiquated luggage cart
was barely audible over the ruckus. Maggie watched the crowd
split between those running for their lives and the ones

(57:52):
that were waiting their turn to see the dead guy.
A giggle sent a shiver up her spine right before
the blow landed. She slumped to the floor fighting unconsciousness.
The old man smiled over her as he hefted her
onto the cart. Another buffed up hulk in a security
T shirt grabbed the lunatic's shoulder. What's going on here?

(58:14):
Don't you hear the fire alarm? He barked. The old
timer giggled. Kids these days, he gestured to Maggie. They
can't hold their hooch. Just loading my nephew and his
girlfriend up to get them out of here. Quicker, sir,
good plan. The guard hired for his imposing size and
not his intellect, slapped the man's arm. Hurry up and

(58:37):
get them to the lawn. Yes, sir, Maggie blinked twice
and then blacked out. Maggie's eyes flicked open and closed
until vision edged fuzzily from the abyss of unconsciousness. The

(58:58):
world around her was a kaleidoscope of swimming colors and
dancing lights. Someone had shut off the fire alarm, and
far away, the first responder's sirens were catterwalling down the
country roads to the Springer Hotel. The spotlights outside continued
their dance across the facade of the hotel and brought

(59:19):
the twelve foot tall stained glass rose window into focus.
Maggie slowly became aware of the plush leather chair cushioning
her body, and then the cords that bound her to
it by the wrists. She turned the chair to take
in her surroundings. Across the ornate desk, Darren was strapped

(59:40):
to another, less expensive chair in a similar fashion, only
he was stark nude. His mauled, bloody nose told her
he'd gone down just as painful as she did. O
k brewing ads were framed on the wood paneled walls,
and shelves held industry awards in commemorative bottles. In the

(01:00:00):
center of the room was a pedestal with a glass
case atop and a mason jar inside on a decorative pillow.
Their captor was nowhere to be seen in the vast office,
where Maggie cleared her throat and tried, again, where are we?
Darren sniffled the CEO's office. I recognize it from the brochure.

(01:00:24):
Did you find Karen? Maggie braced herself, already knowing the answer.
Is she really gone? He butchered her? Darren broke down,
crying loudly and struggling against his bonds. He cut her
to pieces. Maggie sh Maggie hissed, you have to keep

(01:00:45):
it down. We don't know how far he's gone. He
could hear you. I'm I'm sorry. Darren choked on the words.
The police there coming. They've got to be Maggie pushed
her chair along the carpet. Yeah, to investigate a murder,
not to rescue us. They won't even have a head

(01:01:07):
count until tomorrow. She rounded the desk and rolled closer
to Darren. Untimey, Darren wiggled his hand until he got
his fingers on the knot that held her left arm
in place. Maybe Carlton will tell them we're missing and
they'll come find us. Maybe she scanned the room for
her boyfriend. The hazy memory of her capture replayed in

(01:01:30):
the back of her mind. Maybe Carlton woke up and ran,
or maybe he woke up and got himself killed. Her
attacker's words came back to her slowly, like letters floating
in a bowl of alphabet soup, until they made a
sentence again. Keep working the knot, she whispered. The door

(01:01:52):
swung open, and the old man entered with a skip,
Oh goody, you're awake. He giggled excitedly and grabbed the
back of Maggie's chair. Darren tugged the knot hard until
the man wheeled her away and tore the cord from
his fingers. The man parked Maggie next to the desk
and opened one of the drawers. He clicked on the

(01:02:13):
vintage lamp to rifle through the contents until he squealed happily.
The shears gleamed in the dim amber light. These will
do just fine. He stroked Maggie's cheek with the point,
and then went for Darren. I was afraid you two
would sleep right through the big moment. It's almost midnight,

(01:02:34):
the blackout at the asylum. Maggie swiveled her chair slightly.
Darren had made some slack in the knot, and she
rolled her wrists slowly to loosen it further. I saw
it on the news a few days ago. They said
there were too many bodies to tell if anyone escaped.
But you did, didn't you. You set that many creative

(01:02:55):
free spirits loose in one place, and things are bound
to get interesting. Man said, with a gentle tittering. The
blackout was a gift from God, and one should never
refuse a gift, so Maggie tugged softly to see if
she could squeeze out, who are you? Why you're right?

(01:03:18):
I feel like I've known you so long that I
plane forgot to introduce myself. He knelt on the floor
in front of Darren and tapped his fingers on his
captive's knee. A watch alarm beaped in the hallway. Maggie
let her head hang and bit her lip. When the
door started to open. She kept her eyes closed as
she raised her head and hoped she was wrong. She wasn't.

(01:03:44):
The cops will be here in a few minutes, Carlton said,
we don't really have time for this, Uncle ODIs, you
should never rush a celebration, carl carl nodded anxiously. That's true.
I suppose we can take the bootlegger tunnel in the
basement all the way to the fireworks bunker. There's an
electric cart there, no sound, and a four hour battery.

(01:04:07):
There's a farm a few miles away. By the time
the cops search, this place will be free and clear.
But we need to go soon, of course, my dear boy.
But it's not really New Year's He slid the chrome
blades around Darren' scrotum until the ball drops. The giggling

(01:04:29):
disappeared in the wave of Darren's frantic screams. As the
scissors closed slowly on the wrinkled flesh, Maggie jerked her
arm free while her psycho boyfriend laughed it up with
his long lost uncle. She worked the knot on her
other hand and freed herself. As Darren's cries turned sharper,
the glands plopped on the shag carpet and his head lulled.

(01:04:50):
Maggie launched herself from the chair, snatching a trophy from
the desk, Adorned with a gold plated beer keg The
ornament twinkled on its arcing path toward Carlton. The stone
bass stamped a dent into his forehead, and a backswing
snapped the keg off and sent it and a few
teeth through the glass case. Resting on the pedestal, ODIs

(01:05:11):
buried the shears into Maggie's thigh. She cried out and
collapsed beside him. The madman straddled her, squeezing her throat
with his free hand and leaning close. His hot, fetid
breath was like roaches crawling across her cheek. She twisted
her head away from him, her arms stretched for something
she could use to free herself. My nephew's letters told

(01:05:34):
me how sweet you are, candy was. ODIs ran his
tongue across her ear. He pressed the point of the
scissors into her belly and laughed hysterically at the impending kill.
I only wish I had the time to taste it.
Taste these. Maggie shoved the severed testicles into his open mouth.

(01:05:57):
ODIs leaned back, twisting to spit them out. Maggie grabbed
his hand and shoved it toward him, lodging the scissors
into his pudgy belly. Otis ripped the office cutlery from
his abdomen and raised them overhead. You bitch. Maggie jammed
her fingers into the wound, pressing deeper until she felt
something slippery between the tips. She spread her fingers, tearing

(01:06:20):
the wound and drawing a fresh scream from Otis. Her
hand pushed through and disappeared inside him. As she clenched
her fingers around the tissue. Maggie jerked her hand free,
and gravity did the rest. The intestines twisted out of
the new orifice. Like a worm wriggling on a hook,
Otis rolled away screeching. He discarded the scissors to push

(01:06:43):
his guts back in as he crawled for the door.
Carlton groaned on the floor and staggered to his feet
after a series of failed attempts. Maggie stood next to
the pedestal and read the little plaque in front of
the decorative pillow. The jar of moonshine was the only
thing that survived the fire in nineteen thirty one. She

(01:07:05):
hefted the mason jar and examined the contents. Carlton rubbed
the oozing wound in the center of his head and
cleared the blood from his eyes, just in time for
the container to meet his face. He staggered backwards and
fell on top of the desk. Maggie dug in her
pocket and limped closer while Carlton struggled to remove a
shard of glass from his cheek. Can't can't we talk?

(01:07:29):
He held up his hands defensively. I mean, you don't
turn your back on family, right, Maggie. You get it,
don't you. Maggie struck a match and twisted it between
her fingers. I told you I came for the fireworks.
Carlton slowly lifted his shirt to his nose and sniffed
the alcohol saturated fibers. Oh shit, he rolled over the desk.

(01:07:54):
Come on, Mags, this isn't you. You're not a killer
new Year knew me. She lit the book, igniting the
remaining matches in a sulfurous flash, compliments of the house.
Maggie tossed the match book and Carlton ignited instantly. The
flames flared over his face as he spun, sprinting for
the giant window and diving through it. The stained glass

(01:08:17):
fell through the spotlights like shards of a shattered rainbow
as he plummeted toward the cool salvation of the beer fountain.
Maggie stood in the empty frame and glanced down. Carlton's
burning body danced on the end of Poseidon's trident. Maggie
watched until it went still. His jaw tore away from

(01:08:37):
the prongs, and his corpse dumped into the fountain with
a puff of steam and an anticlimactic sizzle. She ambled
away from the window, collected the scissors from the carpet,
and made her way to the stairwell. Her leg throbbed
as her toes squished with each step as the blood
collected in her boot. She limped down the stairs, following

(01:08:59):
the crimson trail left by Otis and leaving her own
as she braced a bloody hand on the wall for balance.
In the basement, she found the pile of boards where
Carlton had reopened the bootlegger tunnel, and beside them the
carpenter's hatchet he used to pull them down. She slipped
the scissors into her pocket and scooped up the small

(01:09:20):
axe before continuing her pursuit. In the stretch of pitch black,
a flashlight danced unsteadily ahead of her. Maggie didn't know
how long the tunnel went on, so she pushed herself
to catch up. If Otis got out first, he'd get
in the cart and disappear before anyone could catch him.

(01:09:42):
She couldn't let that happen. Maggie bit her tongue to
keep the screams at bay. She just needed to get closer.
The light dropped, followed by a curse. It rolled chaotically
before it steadied and rose Otis had fallen, and Maggie
used it to her advantage, pushing her wounded leg into

(01:10:02):
a hobbling sprint. Otis. She cried out. The light stopped moving.
Otis giggled maniacally and started to turn. She reached back
and hurled the hatchet. The laughter turned to a howl
as the blade found its target. Maggie watched the beams
swirl and fall to the ground once again. The flashlight

(01:10:25):
rolled down the path and she retrieved it on her way.
Otis was sprawled in the gravel with the hatchet sticking
out of his skull, intersecting his scar. Ugh not again,
he whimpered, I haven't seen you since last year, Otis.
Maggie shined the light in his face and drew the

(01:10:45):
scissors from her pocket. Did your nephew's letters tell you
we used to go axe throwing with Darren and Karen.
ODIs smiled slowly, his giggling turned to a rasping cough.
Maggie knelt beside him and worked her fingers into his waistband.
You know, I think I missed it earlier, the part

(01:11:07):
where the ball dropped. Otis wasn't laughing anymore. Maggie wiped
her fingers on her jeans, collecting more blood than she
got off, and flipped the ignition switch. The little golf
cart jutted forward and whirred across the manicured grounds to

(01:11:28):
the wall of flashing lights waiting at the Springer Hotel.
Her mind roamed as the cart bounced along the path.
She wondered if this would make it into the movie,
or if they'd save it for the sequel. The final
look of shock on Otis Kilgore's face as she left
him in that tunnel would make a great fade to black.

(01:11:52):
Maggie thought about him bleeding out in the darkness and
started to giggle. Stakes and Showguns by Dan Wilder, dedicated
to David Denier. It was the last day of eighteen

(01:12:15):
ninety nine that a group of brave souls put to
rest the embodiment of all things satanic, the vile lord
of the Night, the great dragon, Count Dracula, laid low
by means of wood, steel, fire, and love. They celebrated
the coming of the new year in darkest Transylvania that year,

(01:12:38):
raising many tankards of spiced mead and toast of their
great victory over the darkness. Their minds and hearts filled
with an abundance of faith in the pureeness of humanity's
will and its unwavering ability to extinguish the flame of
Hell's emissaries, fucking dumbasses. I hate falling asleep here. You

(01:13:04):
always wake up with a film on the roof of
your mouth, and the one two punch of stale popcorn
and even more stale piss can really take the wind
out of your sails. And don't even get me started
on the bums that come in here just to warm
up and occasionally die. There were a gaggle of such
gents in the front row this very night, and they

(01:13:26):
cared about the first feature of the evening, a retitled
re release of Bloodshack, which had been cycled through this
theater at least five times in as many years as
I did. I was here to see Showgun Assassin, which
I missed on its first go around earlier this year
thanks to work commitments, but I'd be damned if I
missed it again. Hell the trailer alone made it seem

(01:13:49):
like it would be the blood bath of the century,
which you'd think i'd try to avoid given my profession.
But there was nowhere else I'd rather spend New Year's Eve.
So yeah, now I'm awake and hungry I made my
way to the lobby and found it both quiet and empty,
which it never is, giving it a full minute with

(01:14:11):
no sign of life. I stole a bucket of popcorn
and a watered down soda, neither of which I felt
guilty about since they taste like crap on a good day.
I made it back just in time to catch an
earful of the raunchy our Future presentation theme, which made
a pornoscore sound sedate by comparison with its paint swirl

(01:14:33):
graphic accompaniment. Now, if all that happened next was I
ate purloined treats and watched a man and his young
child fuck up a good sized hunk of ancient Japan
in a whirlwind of wholesome violence, then this would be
a boring yarn delay on you. But for a solid
hour that's exactly what went down. But wait, it gets better.

(01:14:56):
In a New York minute, at random intervals, there would
be a mild movement from the huddled forms of the
homeless dudes in the front row, but whatever was going on,
they were mercifully keeping it to themselves for once until
they didn't now one aside about Showgun Assassin, it frequently

(01:15:18):
features blood spraying everywhere like a nightmare money shot. And
it was during one such scene that I noticed one
of the bums had wandered up to the screen and
was trying to catch the on screen blood rain in
his open mouth. What in the fuck now? Next he
tried to lick the screen, which was when I took action. Hey, FUCKO,

(01:15:41):
sit your ass down now. Usually that was all it
would take with these folks to return to some semblance
of order, but not this time. Nope, I had just
fucked up royally. You know how a cat's eye shines

(01:16:03):
in the dark scream liquors did too. When he turned
to look at me, speaking of cats, he hissed at
me as well, which was both rude and unnerving. All
I could do for a few seconds was stare in
open mouthed dumb assery at the rapidly approaching figure, a
figure that was bounding across the tops of rickety theater

(01:16:25):
seats like a demented wolf. I gripped the wooden armrest
of my theater seat so tightly it snapped off, not
much of a herculean result given the state of the theater.
Within a heartbeat, the creature had lifted me from my
seat with one hand and stared into my eyes with
those freaky glowing peepers of his. I was nearly mesmerized,

(01:16:48):
but regained my senses enough to mutter, you're a vampire.
When the being opened its jaws wide as a snake
and twin fangs descended wetly from its whisky scented gus.
As if by instinct, I shoved the jagged edge of
my broken armrests directly through the creature's heart. The being

(01:17:08):
crumpled and had dissolved to bones before it hit the
cum and gum and crusted floor. I tried desperately to
catch my breath, but more hissing erupted from the peanut gallery.
I know where your mind is headed. This badass took
out the rest of those fang bangers next in a
shocking and entertaining explosion of raw action. I agree that

(01:17:31):
sounds amazing. I puked instead. Oh shit, maybe I was
a tad unclear as to my profession I work reception
at a blood bank. Anyway, it turns out I had
more than enough time to spray vomit on seats that
were no strangers to such actions as the Master of

(01:17:55):
Death succumbed to our hero's sword. On screen, I could
see that the remains of the front row were feeding
upon themselves instead of hunting me down. Apparently, cheap booze
and supernatural monsters are not good friends. This time, I
wised up and made a run for it. So the
lobby was still dead and completely without anything remotely useful

(01:18:18):
as a weapon, and the front doors and fire exits
seemed to be welded shut, so that's just fucking great.
The adjoining theater was without patrons, but a swarm of
bats swirled around the light from the projection booth. As
a horny fish man was making sweet scaly love to
his less than enthused partner. Their red eyes turned towards me,

(01:18:42):
and I slammed that door shut. I can't believe I'm
going to die without seeing that fucking movie again. The
manager's office was sans manager, but plus one shaker of
garlic salt, so I had that one going for me.
I mean, if vampire movies were to be believed, I'm

(01:19:02):
so fucked. Looking out the office's sealed tight window, I
could see drunken revelers making their way down the street,
completely oblivious to the impending hammer film scenario about to
play out in this greasy little shithole. As if on cue.
The door to the room exploded into a million pieces.
As those bats finally caught up to me, I tore

(01:19:24):
the top of the garlic salt off and began flailing
it like a madman possessed The barrage hit the bats
dead on eventually, and they fell to the ground and smoking,
screeching piles. I made my way through the thickening haze
and hauled ass back downstairs. And that's when I heard
the cry for help. Someone was clearly calling for help

(01:19:49):
as I flew pellmell into the lobby, someone in the
theater I had currently occupied. For fuck's sake, I made
my way to the theater door and cracked it open. Well,
the movie had ended, so there's that. Cautiously, I made
my way into the silent auditorium. I walked past my
bile soaked seat, and there, untouched by puke particles, was

(01:20:13):
my pilfered beverage. I grabbed it and took a pull
water with just a hint of cola flavor. I had
sampled this vintage before. In the now raised house lights,
I could see the absolutely nauseating scene inside. The vamps
had eaten themselves to death, double death, and from under

(01:20:34):
what could only be charitably referred to as a gut
pile came that pained call for assistance. As I neared
the mountain of wreaking carnage, a hand darted skywards, sending
glistening red bits in every direction. Help, please, for all
that's holy, help me against my better judgment. I grabbed

(01:20:55):
the wrist of that mystery arm and tugged hard. You
know that sound when you dump a slow moving turd
of dog food from the can and it finally shimmys
its way free. That was the sound that filled the air,
although it was a great deal. Louder, a bearded man,
his thin frame covered in gore, fell from the mound

(01:21:17):
of formerly human sloppy joe. Thank you, my son. He
punctuated that statement with a sour wine belch. You a
holy man. Formerly my flock has sadly gone astray? He gagged.
Any idea what's going on here? Sadly I do, he said,

(01:21:39):
His brows furrowed and dripped one bodily fluid After another
go on, I went to the bathroom, turning wine into piss.
Jesus would be proud. I was pretty happy with that one,
though the hobo didn't even react. Even at the end.
I can't catch a break in there. I saw the
manager of this fine establishment kneeling in one of the stalls.

(01:22:03):
He started sobbing like a baby. Come on, spit it out,
you pious motherfucker. He was was was what giving Who
I believe was was Dracula a A. Here's what I know.

(01:22:24):
This dude from the garbage plate, used to be a priest,
comes here to get warm and and I can't believe
I'm going to say this gave Count Dracula a BJ
in the bathroom. Yeah, it turns out when he was
done with the manager, he used his mesmerism to continue
on with the padre there when said encounter happened. He

(01:22:45):
could see things from Dracula's mind. Him surviving a murder plot,
his arrival in Manhattan in the turn of the century,
his dwelling torn down in a movie theater erected while
he slumbered in the cold soil hidden below, and his
resurrection through feeding on the homeless that sheltered in the cinema.
This was all told over candy that had went off

(01:23:07):
data solid four months ago. I refilled my water soda
and took a long pull. Now my plan here was
to spit out some cool ass catchphrase and make a
plan for trying to get away from this nightmare, maybe
build some sweet weapons. But the smoke got in my lungs. Wait,

(01:23:28):
smoke those damn bats. They came a flopping and smoldering
down the stairs into the lobby, and they were looking
more healthy by the second. Come on, think, Wait, were
the bats melting together? I took the final pull off
my drink and tossed the cup to the ground. The
bats had formed one large bat that strode forward, walking

(01:23:51):
on its wings. It roared at us as it slowly advanced.
Its bulks smashed into the concession stand sending popcorn and
soda cups in every direction. That's when it hit me,
a priest water soda. I bet that could be one
hell of a holy water. Hey father, do you think
you have it in you to bless some water? He burped.

(01:24:14):
I took that as a yes. Now this was a plan,
except I finished my drink and the soda fountain had
been smashed to shitterenes by the drag attack. That's when
an idea occurred. I was about to die and I
really needed to take a piss. I mean, I could
probably just let it go at this point. What a

(01:24:36):
shitty way to go. Think Think that could work? Father?
Does it matter what vessel the holy water flows from?
Two burps? That's clearly a no. It was then that
I whipped it out and turned towards the priest. Your father,
bless this. He held a trembling hand above my stream

(01:24:56):
and said something regardless. It worked, and I hosed that
hell beast down good. As his flesh sizzled, Dracula hissed,
screamed something in a language I didn't understand, burst back
into his bat form, and exploded through the glass doors
of the lobby and out into the frigid winter night.

(01:25:17):
The priest had dozed off. I stepped over the broken
glass and out onto the street. More New Year's revelers passed,
laughing onward into the night, a night that now contained
the greatest evil known to mankind, and evil waiting to

(01:25:39):
strike again. Alien zombie punks from Upstate New York by
Dan Wilder. Why is it so dark in here? Damn it?
I just hit my head on a ceiling wait a minute,

(01:26:00):
I think I'm dead. Let's see if I can piece
this thing together. We went into the city earlier. It
was me Sloppy Suicide, or Ricky as he was known
before last year, Debbie and myself. We strolled around the

(01:26:24):
city streets, which were both ten to twenty degrees warmer
than the streets of the nowhere mountain town we left
three hours earlier, but also inexplicably smelled like chocolate flavored
breakfast cereal, which was strange but better than the leather
mill runoff that usually tickled our noses with its award
losing scent of sickly sweet putrescence mixed tenderly with chemicals

(01:26:50):
that were most likely banned everywhere else in the free
world anyway. Earlier, our punk rock asses clamored into Ricky
sorry Sloppies, stood up conversion van with bags of snacks
and beer, and began the long drive to the Big Apple.
It was already snowing steadily as we tore down the

(01:27:10):
roads leading to the highway entrance that would bring us
close to our ultimate destination, Max's Kansas City for a
likely to be unforgettable night of punk music and New
Year's revelry, but the chains wrapped securely around the van's
tires kept us thankfully on the road, no matter how
dicey the weather was. Apparently it was in part forgettable,

(01:27:33):
because piecing this shit together is getting harder. But I digress.
So we walk around, got buzzed. Debbie bought a few
trinkets from the street vendors, and eventually we wandered our
way over to the venue. After arriving and stepping gracefully

(01:27:53):
over a disturbingly large puddle of puke, we stepped inside.
The place was wall to wallpunks, bullshitting, drinking, being charmingly rude,
All of our greatest qualities brought out in mass. We mingled,
we drank, We were loud, and soon the opening band
lurched to life. I can't, for the life of me

(01:28:16):
remember their names, but they sang fast, aggressive songs about alienation,
indiscriminate fucking. There might have even been a television cover
in there. They were quickly followed by more scruffy snot
leaking bands that played forty song sets in the space
of twenty minutes. Apiece so far, So worth it. The
night wore on and on, but soon the headliners took

(01:28:39):
the stage, coming straight from the wilds of New Jersey.
These folks looked, for all the world could tell, like
Ghules returned from the dead to raise unholy Hell, and
they were louder and more confrontational than all the other
acts combined. Wait a minute, Gules, that triggers some thing

(01:29:01):
to fire off deep within my brain. The scream started
from the back of the club, but it was barely
audible over the din of the band and the crowd
cheering them on. Occasionally, the band's bass player, a hulking
dude with long black hair brushed in front of his face,
would smash his instrument into anyone foolish enough to dare

(01:29:21):
to get on stage. Onward, they played bringing Us Chain
Gang choruses and three Angry chords, all wrapped around tales
of the Kennedy assassination, teenagers from outer space, and satanic werewolves,
and subtly the crowd noise became less and less. I
have no idea what compelled me to turn around, but

(01:29:44):
I did then quickly regretted it. In the front of
the house, someone, or more accurately, something moved among the
crowds swiftly. The being's eyes reflected light, not unlike a
dogg or a cat, which was disquieting enough for sure,
but the fact that it was seemingly murdering patrons left

(01:30:07):
and right was undoubtedly its worst feature. I turned back
to warn Debis and Debbie, but another shadow being had
torn them to pieces before setting to work on the band,
who admittedly fought like leather clad perserkers, but no amount
of leather clad muscle and violence could stop the creatures,

(01:30:27):
whose numbers had now swollen to four. Upon seeing this,
I did the only sane thing I could think of.
I ran the fuck out of there. I pushed through
the throng, slid constantly on barf, blood, and lord knows
what other bodily secretions, before I burst out onto the

(01:30:50):
city street. The heavily falling snow made everything seem like
a Christmas card worthy winter wonderland, but the sky held
less enchanting prospects. Far above the skyscrapers, meteors streaked across
the sky, leaving violet trails in their wake. I ran on,
passing various New Yorkers staring uncharacteristically in shock. As feet away,

(01:31:15):
one of the meteors hit the sidewalk splitting it violently.
One of the shadow beings rose from the smoking rubble
and immediately attacked a bystander, sending a geyser of blood
up into the frigid night sky, the resulting crimson rain
freezing to red ice as soon as it collided with
the ground in steam hissing droplets. Shit, why is this happening?

(01:31:41):
I thought stereotypically as I tore ass on and on
without a destination and no other motivation than saving my
narrow ass from getting ripped a new one from astromonsters
falling from the heavens. A few blocks down, things got
much worse. I saw one of the shadow creatures attack
a woman, but amazingly, it didn't finish her off before

(01:32:04):
it bounded off after a faster moving victim that ran
like a fucking cartoon character over a sheet of ice
before regaining his footing and speeding off into the night.
Against all common sense, I made my way over to
the woman to try and help her, but upon arrival,
she was a complete and total mess that looked more
like a plate of discarded spaghetti and red sauce than

(01:32:26):
a young lady out for a stroll. Please please just
hold me she whimpered. I did, immediately, soaking my best
T shirt and blood. What's your name? I asked, mainly
because it's what I saw characters do on TV when

(01:32:46):
they encountered similar, deeply shitty situations. Uh, Olivia, she muttered weakly.
That's a great name, I said, unconvincingly. So what brings
you out tonight? What the hell kind of question was that?
In response to my quandary, her eyes glazed over cataract white. Suddenly,

(01:33:11):
she sat up straight and shoved me back, hard, sending
me directly on my ass. A hiss escaped her now
blue lips, which were flecked with neon green phlegm. Her
gums had retracted to the point where her teeth now
appeared ginormous. Speaking of teeth, she began clicking them together rhythmically.
Somewhere behind me, I heard a slight commotion which quickly

(01:33:34):
grew in intensity before a group of What the hell
are these things? Zombies? Yeah, let's go with that. A
group of zombies spilled forth from a nearby bodega, their
limbs flailing wildly as they moved both fast and clumsily forward.
I screamed and possibly peed a tad and booked it

(01:33:54):
like a freight train straight out of Hell. I ran
until my lungs burned from the freezing air. Then I
made the absolutely idiotic decision to stop for a second
get my shit together. The zombies were on me before
you could say George A. Romero. I felt no pain,

(01:34:19):
but darkness soon took me. I came too. For the
briefest of seconds, the sound of unearthly trumpets filled the sky,
and as soon as they arrived, the creatures formed back
into meteors and rose into the sky. As the strange

(01:34:39):
music became more and more like sirens, blackness came for
me again, and then I woke up to even more
blackness and a minor head injury from the aforementioned ceiling.

(01:35:01):
I stared into the darkness before my eyes finally settled
on a sliver of light down by my feet. I
slid forward on my back and pressed my feet towards
the light. Damn. Whatever I pushed up against was cold, cold,
but very forgiving. A door opened, letting harsh fluorescent lights

(01:35:22):
smash into my eyes. With wild abandon, I pushed forward
and immediately fell onto the rigid tile floor. It took
me about three point seven seconds to realize where I
was the morgue. I looked down at my now bare
feet and removed the Manila tag that was tied around
my big toe. I have no idea what had happened

(01:35:43):
to me, but I was definitely not dead. I caught
my reflection in a nearby mirror mounted on the wall.
I wasn't a zombie either. Then I saw the two
forms rise from the gurnees behind me. Rick, Sloppy Whoever,

(01:36:06):
and Debbie sat up. They were nude minus the thin
sheets that covered them, but Sloppy's mohawk was unmistakable since
it was hot pink with electric blue tips. It took
a minute, but I could tell they were much the
same as Olivia from earlier in the evening, but their
faces seemed downright friendly instead of, you know, menacing as

(01:36:28):
could possibly fucking be. You guys look like shit, Thanks Pal,
you look naked. I hadn't noticed it before, but Sloppy
was right. I was every bit as naked as my friends,
but where I was shivering from the coldness of the room,
they seemed to be as cozy as could be. My

(01:36:49):
eyes darted around the room for something to cover up
in and then they fell on a plastic bin filled
with my clothes wallet. Hell, even my beat to shit
Doc Martin's were accounted for. I crossed the room and
pulled on my clothes. So what's new with you two? Well,
we were ripped apart by aliens and woke up as zombies.

(01:37:11):
But you know, doesn't feel too bad, Debbie said, cheerfully.
You guys don't want to eat me, not particularly, No
turn me into one of you. Nope, Sloppy said flatly,
Well what do you want to do? We sat at

(01:37:34):
Max's drinking our stolen beer, just me and my two
naked zombie pals. The walk back was uneventful. This particular
area of the city seemed completely abandoned. Only corpses remained.
Occasionally we'd hear noises of happy crowds from deeper within
the city, or footsteps close behind us, or from the rooftops.

(01:37:56):
But if more creatures proud tonight, we sure as fuck
didn't see them. The entire thing was very omega man
to be quite honest, but as previously mentioned, one with
less monsters for a change, so that was a big plus. Anyway,
a punk and two naked zombies walked into a bar,
no punchline. We just walked in, stole beer, and sat

(01:38:19):
at a table surrounded by corpses on a chilly New
Year's Eve night. Hell As hard as it is to believe,
the New year had already begun a few hours ago,
probably between the time we were eaten by monsters and
waking up as either one a guy that obviously fainted
at the prospect of being eaten, when in fact, some

(01:38:39):
cosmic twist of fate called the herd home before said
eating could take place, or two as monsters that behave
absolutely nothing like monsters that made them, who in turn
were made from other monsters from space. It makes perfect
sense if you're drunk or mentally ill, or a combo
of the two. So we sat and drank and laughed

(01:39:03):
as if absolutely nothing was off in any way. It
was kind of perfect, to be honest with you, So
now what what what I mean? You too can't exactly
go back home again unless everyone in your family fuck
that if the whole damn town was suddenly stricken blind.
You know that's kind of mean, but totally true, don't

(01:39:25):
you think? Rick Debbie asked a little string of neon
green flems slash drool escaping from her mouth as she spoke.
It does make sense. You're not going to correct her
for calling you Rick after being dead. I don't know.
The nickname seems tacky now it's not just now, kiddo,

(01:39:45):
Debbie countered. Rick flipped her the bird playfully. I think
the first thing we should do is assess just how
far this thing spread. The rest of the city seems okay,
but here you'd think there'd be emergency cruise or something,
I said, looking for a TV or radio we could use.

(01:40:06):
I finally located a small transistor radio behind the bar
and switched it on. Only static filled the air no
matter what channel I tuned to. Well, so much for that.
Rick got up and wandered around the room for a minute.
I think we have to consider something else, he said, solemnly,

(01:40:27):
which is those things will be back. You can bet
on that. What makes you so sure, Debbie asked, her white,
pupilless eyes, staring blankly. Why come all this way, rip
shit up for under an hour, then just piss off
back to whatever demented home world could spawn space invader
rejects that turn people into zombies, most of which are

(01:40:48):
hungry for human flesh, except when they aren't like me
and deb That seems like a solid assumption. Maybe this
was like a dry run test shit out. See how
it goes, Debbie said quietly. I'd say it went swimmingly,
with the exception of you guys, what if we are

(01:41:09):
the desired result and the others were failures. Rick offered
no offense, but naked zombies that are no different than
regular humans other than looks seems like an experiment created
by an asshole convention, or just by someone that has
next to zero common sense. I mean, they're aliens, presumably,

(01:41:32):
maybe their standards of intelligence are vastly different from ours.
As logical as anything else that's gone on tonight, Debbie,
can I talk to you in private for a moment?
Ricky asked, sounding more like an adult than I've ever
heard him before. Debbie and Ricky crossed to the opposite
end of the room. They stood silhouetted by the stage

(01:41:53):
lights that remained on. I couldn't help but wonder what
in the hell was so damn important, But I didn't
have a long time time to contemplate. As soon as
they return to the table, So listen, man, Me and
deb were just talking, and we have a proposition for you.
Is this going to get weirdly sexual? Debbie and Rick

(01:42:14):
laughed until they coughed up more green goo that hung
tenaciously to their cold blue lips. No, it's more like
dinner plans spill it. Let's say, for instance, that those
cosmic creeps make a return engagement tonight. Do you think
your chances of continued survival are greater or lesser given

(01:42:35):
your current state? Obviously, to be like you would help,
but I'm not too keen on joining the ranks of
the shambling dead. We move around just fine, and we're
impervious to the cold. Deb added merrily. That's all well
and good, But say I agree to this. What makes

(01:42:55):
you so sure I won't end up like the others?
Because we aren't like that, and we'll both bite. You
better your chances that way? And then what do we do?
Hide out? Maybe gather some weapons. If they think we're
on their side, we may be able to just walk
up and pop them before they know what hit them.

(01:43:15):
I truly hate it when you make reasonable arguments. Is
that a yes? I mean, back home is comfortable, but
I can't help but think I have a greater purpose
in life than being a counter jockey at a video store.
Saving the whole damn planet would definitely qualify for that.

(01:43:36):
Fuck all right, I'm in Debbie barely let out an
excited yay before the biting began. When I woke up,
I felt nothing, no more cold, no more warmth, thankfully,
no hunger. Eventually we gathered some supplies, clothes, and made

(01:43:59):
our way back back to our van. Soon we were
headed due west. As we exited the city, which, besides
the few blocks we spent the night on, seemed perfectly
normal in every single way. For now, we sat under
the hot desert sky, just outside the trailer we had
shared for over fourteen years. We sipped lemonade from glasses

(01:44:20):
adorned with various sci fi flick characters, more for nostalgia
than anything, since we no longer required any food or
drink whatsoever. As the years wore on, we became less
and less sure our intergalactic enemies would ever return, But
since we basically just hung out and watched TV and
made music, it really didn't matter much until the day

(01:44:44):
that changed. The saucer hovered low in the sky before
releasing three meteors that collided with the desert floor. Three
shadow beings crossed the sand. We drew weapons we've never fired,
and prepared for what we guessed was coming. Except what
came was vastly different than any scenario we'd imagined over

(01:45:08):
the years. The beings held out their smoky hands, and
our weapons vanished. Didn't plan on that, Ricky whispered. Then
the largest of the three spoke to us, Hey, folks,
we just want to say sorry for the trouble we
caused you as children. We've done some serious growth since

(01:45:29):
then and realized how childish our prank was. But we
were just young punks. We all looked at each other
with our cataract eyes and it finally all made sense.
The anarchy, the chaos. We as punks held those beliefs deer,
and so did our brothers from the stars. I cracked

(01:45:51):
some beers and handed them to our guests. So what
bands are you, guys into? New Year's Evil? A paranormal
thriller from the case files of Caroline Quinn by Mike Eskewy.
New Year's Eve twoenty twelve, End of the World, or

(01:46:15):
so I hear? Yeah right? It should be a time
where you reflect on the year and how you've grown
and what you should be grateful for blah blah blah,
sentimental bullshit. I, on the other hand, loved going out
for drinks with the girls, pick up a guy or
girl whoever looks fun, and frankly, party on. This year

(01:46:37):
is not going to be like that, or at least
this story won't end up with me losing my shoes
and doing the walk of shame into a seven eleven
for a slurpee on New Year's morning. Instead, you get
me your favorite Ghouls school graduate and recently instituted federal
agent Caroline Quinn. The government's own supernatural badass were called Troubleshooters,

(01:47:02):
and there aren't a lot of us in my graduating class.
There were maybe five others like myself, a blend of
the superpowered and supernatural aka the government sponsored freak shows
government goons who fight real life monsters, the kind of
stuff that was once only found in books and fairy tales.

(01:47:22):
Cool huh, However, that's not what's important. This part is
actually pretty cool and not many know about it. Ghoule School,
what's that you ask? Well, back when the world changed
and suddenly superpowers and the supernatural just randomly started to

(01:47:43):
coexist in the mid nineteen fifties. So now we have
assholes who can fly and assholes who suck blood who
can also fly. But it's complicated. Long story, short, spandex fights, Dracula,
and even the occasional Frankenstein like things we call them
Frankies for short. Weirdly more common than you might think,

(01:48:05):
and it's usually pharmaceutical companies anyway, So my mom was
a vampire. My dad wasn't, but he was into the
whole undead thing. Vamps are sexy, I guess, no, just gross,
but I digress. My dad is what they call a ghoule,

(01:48:27):
but not like an undead zombie thing, more like a
bonded to vampiric host sort of thing. It sounds less
fucked up if I use the science terms I learned
at the academy nine months later, and I'm sure stuff
that would render years of therapy if I lingered on it.
I was born. So one night back when I was twelve,

(01:48:49):
a couple of bad looking motherfuckers who looked like the
Men in Black showed up for a chat. They pointed
an ultraviolet shotgun at my mom and pistol whipped my
dad and said we know your kid is special. We're
taking her and if all goes nice and smooth, she'll
see when she graduates from our little school. Do anything

(01:49:10):
but say that your daughter is on scholarship to a
private school, and you'll be dissected. Am I clear? That
was my life for six years at Ghul School. It
never officially had a name, but all of us kids
nicknamed it Ghoul School. And that's where I'm headed. And
it happened to be in the dullest place you can imagine, Ohio.

(01:49:33):
I know, right. I got a call from a friend, Sammy,
who works at the school, and said that I needed
to come home, but it absolutely had to be tonight.
He sounded panicked, and that was not what I knew
of Sammy. December thirty first, twenty twelve. This is not

(01:49:54):
what I had planned for New Year's Eve this year.
I had actually had a date tonight. She was a
nice girl I met at the academy after I graduated.
Her name was Rheanne. She was cute and I was
totally into her. Instead, I drove through the backwoods of
Ohio on New Year's and investigated something weird. It could

(01:50:15):
be something, or it could be nothing. Entirely. I couldn't
shake the feeling that something was wrong. Didn't need to
be a super or something else to know something was
going to go down. At my old school, I was
a few hours out from campus near Youngstown. Sammy had
said that he noticed some of the newer kids were
acting weirder than normal and something felt off. He'd mentioned

(01:50:39):
that one day one of their cell phones was confiscated
and it had very threatening messages, and not something as
fun as a school shooting either. No, seriously, how the
fuck is that still a thing in twenty twelve, especially
since now the kids can literally pack as much firepower
into their own fists as some military I guess I

(01:51:01):
should be thankful someone who can melt people with their
eyes hasn't had a bad day in Pe yet. Way
of the world I guess still sucks though. Anyway, Sammy
had mentioned a name and that immediately set off alarm bells. Yasu.
When things got weird in the world, things got weird.

(01:51:24):
It wasn't just vampires and shit that became real. It
was things that were like nuclear threat level worse, demons, specters,
and rumor has it, even death gods. Things got understandably
bizarre in the post changed world, but things that literally
could rise from the grave and command armies of the

(01:51:44):
undead I'm not a fan of, even if I share
some of that supposed supernatural blood running in my veins.
Part of my occult schooling involved learning about what new
world I was a part of, but also the part
that I I would protect it and draw a paycheck
at the same time, get some great education, learn rules,

(01:52:07):
laws and regulations, and then privately enforce the law for
Uncle Sam and protect the country and even the world
at large. It's a lot less cool than it sounds,
but no student loans to pay back, So bonus. Yasu
was some long forgotten god from somewhere in Asia, and

(01:52:29):
probably for good reason, a death cult that was left
out of most history books and written off as myth
by many. Now there's not an unreasonable possibility that this
thing was potentially returning for a comeback tour in twenty twelve.
Great timing, if I do say so myself. As a
favorite cartoon of mine once said, he makes Gozer look

(01:52:53):
like Little Mary Sunshine. Clearly I'm in for a fun
time if he's right. But I am so no praying
this is just a bunch of edge lords trying to
look cool in a school full of weirdos. This is great,
isn't it. A dipshit with a Twitter account thinks they
can summon great value. Cuthulhu. Sammy knew something was up

(01:53:15):
but didn't want to get the kids in harm's way.
Call me up and hopefully come in quickly, quietly, and
do it before Uncle Sam decides to use all necessary force.
The school had security, some superpowered individuals of their own.
But something feels wrong. You should go back to your

(01:53:36):
old school to say, hey, what's up, Let's grab a drink.
Not me, though, I get to spend my New Year's
Eve potentially stopping the resurrection of a death god. Or
I break up some dorky kids new Year's Eve party
which was their ticket into someone's pants for a night
save the world, or cock block someone. Fuck. Please, let

(01:54:02):
this be a false alarm and just be someone overreacting
to some kid trying to sound cool. I suppose, on
the bonus side of all this, I can stop by
the old cafeteria and see if they still make the
best tuna sandwich in Ohio, if I can make it
there in time. Not exactly how I envisioned ringing in

(01:54:24):
the new year. I should be getting drunk and getting laid.
But here we are.

Speaker 2 (01:54:31):
Go me right, don't go away, weekly spooky, We'll be
right back.

Speaker 1 (01:54:43):
It's about ten pm when I finally arrive at the school. Big,
expensive and like Oprah and Martha Stewart designed the campus.
It was pretty in a weird artificial sort of way,
but definitely doesn't give off super secret government institution for
superpowers vibes. You'd think someone built an Ivy League school

(01:55:06):
in the middle of the woods, and on one hand,
you're right, except it's fully razor wiring, closed and has
armed patrols near its grounds. Definitely missed dinner though the
cafe closed hours ago. I wasn't even checked by guards
when crossing over the perimeter. Okay, that's not normal. Calling

(01:55:30):
Sammy cell and all I get is voicemail. I'm definitely
not liking this. Parking in the visitors lot, I step
out into the cold December air. I look around the
empty school grounds and I can hear music coming from
somewhere close. I don't see anyone around though, no guards,
no kids, and definitely no one in charge. The parties

(01:55:52):
should be happening in the dorms with the older kids
got to keep whatever damage happens to a minimum tonight.
I guess I'm going non lethal tasers pepper spray. I
also have my abilities super strength, speed, durability beyond the
means of mere mortals at least, and I can see

(01:56:13):
in the dark most of the time. I also heal
super quickly should something be able to hurt me. I
can shrug off most types of damage unless it comes
from a supernatural or superpowered force. And It's pretty reasonable
to assume that I'll run into some kind of trouble tonight.
At the very least, I'm probably going to ruin my

(01:56:34):
new winter coat, which I bought myself for Christmas. Wouldn't
be a government operation without some cool toys, though, Director
James Carlson, the new guy at the Department of Paranormal Researches,
made sure we always had options in our field assignments.
Now that's the kicker here. Though this isn't a sanctioned operation.

(01:56:56):
This is so off the books that if I get
caught or this makes the newspaper somehow, I am likely
going to end up in some deep dark cell in
a prison where not even God could save me unless
he had proper security clearance. A lot is riding on
this to keep it quiet, safe, and above all, make
sure no one gets hurt who doesn't need to. Maybe,

(01:57:19):
on second thought, I better sling the toys and just
keep it to pure non lethals and stuff I can
conceal in my purse or under my jacket. I'll take
the taser and the spray nice and tight. Don't want
to draw too much attention to myself, but a six
foot blonde who doesn't exactly dress conservatively is bound to

(01:57:40):
raise a few eyebrows if I get spotted. I stop
myself from breathing and focus all of my attention on
listening to the environment around the school grounds, focusing all
my supernatural senses and just listening for real signs of life, talking, movement,
fucking anything that doesn't belong. A moment passes and I

(01:58:04):
hear something in the dorms across the parking lot. I
carefully isolate the sound from the music that's pounding and
almost overwhelming my senses. This is deliberate. This music is
covering something up or is a part of it. A
low murmur in a language I don't recognize. But I

(01:58:26):
know it's bad news. It sounds like a group of
voices are chanting or singing something deeply weird. Guess it's
time to go. I feel weird leaving behind all the
weapons in the car in case I run into something
a little harder to kill than some gifted weirdo with

(01:58:46):
who knows what powers. I don't feel good leaving behind
my actual handgun, but I'd rather not accidentally shoot through
a wall and hurt someone. I briskly walk across the
lawn and head towards the courtyard in front of the
school dorms. A lot of memories come flooding back as
I crossed the yard. I smiled briefly as I look

(01:59:09):
at one particular tree. That tree is where I kissed
my first boyfriend, Dan. He was all right, but it
was his sister who was really into me, and she
and I dated for a few semesters. Surprisingly, Dan was
cool about it because he wanted his sister Laurie to

(01:59:31):
be happy. They were good kids. It's too bad they
didn't make it to graduation day. I missed them. A
schoolyard fight went wrong and one of the other freak
shows decided to use their pyrokinetic abilities to burn them
to cinders. School security didn't waste any time in putting

(01:59:53):
down the offender. In spectacular fashion. Security officer Franklin Wick
a k Boil used as superpowers to liquefy the water
inside the attacker and turn them into a bloody puddle.
Fights at Ghoul School could get cataclysmic real fast if
security didn't step in. I saw one kid who was

(02:00:15):
partially a gargoyle get torn apart by the school's enhanced
guard dogs. It wasn't pretty and it put us in
line pretty quick. The blood spatter wasn't something you could
easily forget. There wasn't enough of Dan and Laurie to bury.
I don't even know if their parents know what really happened.

(02:00:38):
A small tree is planted in the courtyard with a
plaque that reads, may they never be forgotten as we
fight forward. I don't know how many died over the
course of the school's history, but it's more than a few,
but less than a fuck ton. The government spends a
lot of money to protect its invest not all kids

(02:01:01):
who are either superpowered, gifted, or supernaturally inclined and up here,
but it's enough to make sure it's protected. The United
States stands on the front line of this weird occult
war and tends to identify the most gifted individuals per
its population. Most other nations try to keep those numbers quiet.

(02:01:24):
The US likes to wave its supernatural superhero Dick around
like a grinning idiot kid who found his dad's gun. Still,
there are too many, but that's why I'm here. Maybe
I can stop something bad before it really gets going
and somebody else gets hurt. I know it won't bring

(02:01:45):
back Dan and Lorie, but yeah, if I could do
the right thing, then I absolutely should save the world. Right.
I'll call Sammy's phone one last time before I enter
the dorms and hope he picks up up it. Rings
and rings and rings, and then straight to voicemail. I

(02:02:07):
pocket my phone and walk up the stone steps to
the dorms. If Sammy is anywhere, it's probably here, since
he's one of the resident advisors and is probably in
the resident Advisor's office or in his own suite on
the fourth floor. I creak open the double doors and
enter the front area of the dorms. It's loud, but

(02:02:30):
unnaturally still at the same time. Weird loud music echoes
over the PA systems, and even some of the interior
lights are flashing on and off as if in time
with the music. Well, this one just jumped up on
the weird shadow meter.

Speaker 2 (02:02:50):
Did you hear that? Better check the locks on your
doors weekly, spooky, We'll be right back.

Speaker 1 (02:02:59):
The front deckesk is empty, as expected, but that may
actually work to my advantage. I hop over the desk
and thankfully don't tear the ass out of my jeans
as I do. The security system is still open and active,
and I have a whole suite of cameras across the
entire building to look in on. Examining multiple cameras across

(02:03:21):
the four floors, and almost immediately I come across the
bad news I've been expecting. The fourth floor is filled
with people, and some do not look very friendly. It
looks like almost all the students and staff have been
subdued and are tied up lining the hallways of the
fourth floor gags and ropes, and some are covered in

(02:03:44):
a weird green goo that I've never seen before. This
night just keeps getting better, doesn't it. I see a
group of about six of them in long dark robes
being led by a guy in skinny black jeens and
a Christmas sweater wonderful, a gaggle of goofy wanna be cultists,

(02:04:06):
and a dorky Hans Gruber type. He even has the
cutest little bit of facial hair trying to look like
Alan Rickman. Just as I'm sitting here giggling to myself,
an icicle comes flying out of the darkness and impacts
the wall behind my head and explodes into painful icy shards.

(02:04:27):
Before I can even register the shock of the first impact,
a flurry of ice spears comes flying at the desk
and at me. I throw myself to the floor under
the desk and hear more impacts. Oh fuck me, I
quietly whisper to myself as I can hear more hits.
The desk is made of heavy wood, but it won't

(02:04:48):
last forever and I'll have to move. Time to go
to work. Then I peek around the corner and see
if I can spot where the attacks are coming from.
My eyesight adjusts to the lighting conditions and I can
see a small shape at the far end of the lobby,
hiding behind one of those big comfy chairs. I can't

(02:05:10):
make out any distinct features, though, but I know they
are alone. I can hear just one heartbeat besides my own,
and it's beating so fast it's like a wrapper's backing track. Hey,
could you please stop throwing shit at me for like
five seconds? I yell from behind the desk and prepare

(02:05:33):
to sprint from my position. If I can distract them
for just a moment, I can use that supernatural speed
and close the gap and not catch an ice spear
in the head. I mean, there is a reasonable chance
i'd shrug it off due to my own gifts. But
just because you're tough doesn't mean you're reckless. Another impact,

(02:05:56):
and this time I can see the ice penetrate right
beside my face. I know it's time to move. I
thrust my body forward and move across the room in
the blink of an eye, and at the last second,
I use the chair as a place to jump off
and land behind it. Training kicks in and I'm now

(02:06:16):
in combat mode, and it all happens almost by instinct,
and sheer will alone. I sweep my leg low and
knock my opponent over with tremendous force against the wall,
moving into close range, arms fly forward and I throw
all my strength in depending their arms while pushing my
weight onto them and holding them to the floor. Looking

(02:06:38):
down at my opponent for a second, and I see
it's a kid. She looks frightened and terrified beyond reason.
She's an Asian girl who couldn't be more than fourteen,
and that's maybe a stretch. She looks up at me
and pure fear and closes her eyes, fully expecting me

(02:06:58):
to enter right here and right now. I'm not a monster.
I try to tell myself that before I go to
sleep at night. I put my hand over her mouth firmly. Look, kid,
I think we got off on the wrong foot. If
I let you go, will you tell me what the

(02:07:18):
fuck is happening around here? She nods, and I can
feel some, but not all, of the tension leave her body.
I release some of the grip I have honor and
let go of my hold on her mouth. Who are you,
she meekly asks. My name is Caroline, and I used
to be a student here. I'm here to help. They

(02:07:41):
killed mister Reeves, they killed Miss Simmons. They even killed
lunch lady Maria. They turned the rest of the staff
into monsters. The kid stammered out then started to cry.
Mister Reeves was also known as Sammy Reeves. Sammy is dead,
or at least according to her. I'll deal with this later,

(02:08:05):
but right now, we've got bigger problems. I know how
to fight monsters, terrorists, and about seven different types of zombies,
but I don't know how to deal with a kid crying. Okay, look,
I'm also a federal agent and I'm like you, but

(02:08:25):
I figured you guessed that already. What do you mean monsters?
We sat down for a few minutes in the darkness
and talked, and what I heard I didn't like. It.
Seems about two days ago things started getting weird and
then people started dying. She told me about strange creatures

(02:08:48):
that tore the security teams apart, and they looked like
something out of a horror movie green corpse like monsters
covered in slime, and their touch that seemed to rot
in an instant. Well, this definitely narrows it down. Rots.
Servants of death gods corpses reanimated by the will of

(02:09:11):
death and powered by the souls of the damned near
where they are animated, usually found in Europe, but more
recently on modern battlefields. The unfortunate consequence of war. I'm
afraid tougher than typical zombies and had a pleasant side
effect of a death touch that basically putrefied you. It's quick,

(02:09:33):
but about one of the most unpleasant ways to die.
You can imagine. What's your name? Kid? Anna? Anna Wu?
They call me slush. I'm not good with my powers.
You're the first person I've ever successfully used them on.
I chuckle at that. Well, to be fair, you didn't

(02:09:55):
land a hit. Anna. Oh, I'm sorry. I thought you
were one of Gary's dunes and I panicked. I'm guessing
Gary is the asshole in the Christmas sweater. The others
in the robes must be the rots under his control.
Anna stopped crying and nodded. He killed my roommate Sarah.
She tried to stop him, but Gary's monsters. Her voice

(02:10:19):
trailed off. I can guess that the rots touched her
and she likely died quickly but painfully, being rotted from
the inside out. Goddamn. I can't save everyone, but that
is no way to die, especially for a kid. Is
that how you got away? I didn't want to ask,

(02:10:39):
but I had to know. She protected me while I
ran away. I couldn't help her, so she told me
to run and hide. Any idea why Gary is doing this.
You don't just try to resurrect a death god on
New Year's Eve twenty twelve unless you have a really
good reason or you're some nihilistic little fuck from Tumblr. No,

(02:11:04):
but I know he talks to the dead. He transferred
in a few weeks ago from out of the country,
an exchange student from South America. I've got a few
theories on why, and none of them good or even
conclusive at this point. Could be anything from your typical
I want to destroy the world, twirly mustache, to some

(02:11:24):
kind of misguided religious belief, or my personal favorite, crazy
as a shithouse rat, as my dad used to say.
All right, cool, so I got let me see a
crazy kid who can talk to the dead with about
six rots under his sway, the resurrection of Yasue likely
at hand, and hostages of all shapes and sizes. You know,

(02:11:49):
some girls want to go out and have drinks on
New Year's Eve, but instead I get dragged into Caroline
in the Apocalypse. Not exactly Dick Clark's rock in New
Year's Eve at Times Square, but I'm sure I'll find
a way to bring a little life to this undead
ghoul fest. Next year, I am definitely turning off text
messages and going someplace sunny, maybe Disney World. I want

(02:12:14):
my mouse ears.

Speaker 2 (02:12:16):
You're not safe yet, Weekly Spooky will be right back.

Speaker 1 (02:12:25):
I glance at my watch. It's eleven forty eight, and
if I'm going to make a move, it has to
be now. I'm wondering how useful my new friend Anna
is going to be in a fight, especially if things
get messy. Not like I have a choice. There's no
time to call back up. If I don't solve this

(02:12:46):
problem quickly, then the world won't be around for too
much longer. So I need a plan and kick the
door down, so to speak, maybe really fast, to kill
myself and run the clock out on planet Earth. I
can't just pull a die hard and expect to survive.
I have to think tactically, unless like a video game

(02:13:06):
or a comic book. I need a plan. B wait,
light bulb moment here. I head over to the front
desk area and start looking at those camera monitors. We
can take out this asshole by going into his blind spots. Yeah,
we're gonna get this guy and we're gonna make goddamn
sure he doesn't see us coming. There are two staircases

(02:13:29):
with entrances up where Gary and his rots are, and
only one of them is currently guarded. Looks like we
have our blind spot. But how do we take advantage
of it and move them away from the hostages. Well,
maybe I can pull a die hard here. Hey Anna,
I have a crazy idea, but I'll need your help.

(02:13:49):
Tell me, do you have fine enough control of your
abilities that you can super cool the air? The girl
looked at me confused for a moment and seemed to
think pretty hard for a second, but nodded at me. Yeah.
It was one of the first things I learned to do.
My parents didn't have an AC unit, so they'd ask

(02:14:10):
me to do it, But more often than not, I'd
freeze the house. Cute a living air conditioning unit, save
a few bucks anywhere you can. Right, If she doesn't
become a superhero, then she'll be a blast at parties
for cold drinks. Okay, maybe this will work after all.

(02:14:31):
Looked at the monitors again, and it seemed like the
hostages were relatively safe for the moment. The rots seemed
to be guarding a door at the end of the
main hallway, so likely the wreck room on the fourth floor. Unfortunately,
that is the one camera whose feed is currently dark,
and I couldn't see anything beyond a sea of static. Fortunately,

(02:14:53):
the front desk had the other component of my plan
right there, smiling at me with a large yellow sticky
note claiming do not touch the thermostat Anna. So here's
the game plan, and I can't do it without your help.
I'm gonna have you super cool the air in the elevator,
and I'm gonna fuck with the thermostad Okay, why science,

(02:15:19):
motherfucker instant fog cloud that leaves cover for me to
go in there and play little miss badass. We're gonna
put you in the top of the elevator where it's
nice and safe, and you'll basically keep up the pressure
and the cold. I could see the gears turning in
Anna's head and it clicked temperature difference, and with someone
constantly running the fog machine, it was a perfect way

(02:15:42):
to get an ambush going where will you be, Caroline,
I'm going to be up the stairs so when the
attention is focused on the elevator doors opening, I can
rush in behind them and hopefully clear the rots out
before anyone knows what the fuck is happening. Looking at
my watch and realizing the clock is starting to wind down,
it's likely time to go all right. Six potential rots

(02:16:06):
and cloaks, a dork who could talk to the dead,
and a death god coming in hot for the New Year.
What's not to love? I mean, realistically, this could go
totally sideways and the earth gets plunged into a new
dark age under a menacing death deity who hates everything
with a pulse. Or we go upstairs, kick some supernatural

(02:16:26):
ass and get back in time to watch the lame
New Year's Eve shows hosted by Carson Dally or whoever
the fuck is doing it now. If I end up
saving the world tonight, I am getting that sandwich from
the cafe before I leave. No matter what, I mess
with the thermostat and set it in such a way
that things should be downright uncomfortable upstairs. In just a

(02:16:47):
few minutes, it's go time. Anna and I walk up
to the elevators and I pry off the top of
the ceiling and lift this little girl onto the top
of the box. She makes herself as comfortable as she
possibly can, but she looks scared shitless, and I don't
blame her. This kid has already gone through a lot,

(02:17:09):
and this is the kind of shit that fucks you
up for life. Ghoule School always had a way with
lasting memories. My scary memory was the death of Dan
and Laurie. Anna isn't even done with her first few
semesters here, so I can only imagine what else is
going to happen to her. I sincerely hope she'll have

(02:17:29):
an easier time after tonight. This is heavy and frankly apocalyptic,
but she's holding it together. Anna hit this with as
much cold as you can muster. Keep pumping out the
cold and absolutely flood the place with fog or whatever
as soon as the elevator doors open, and no matter
what you hear, until I say all clear, keep it up.

(02:17:52):
I know this is scary and probably isn't the best plan,
but I think it's got a solid chance. Caroline, I
got it. I won't let you down. We can stop
Gary and help everyone, right, Yeah, I mean it's either
that or we all die horribly. I don't think Anna

(02:18:13):
appreciated my dark sense of humor. No, we'll be fine, kid,
I trust you have my back, and it's not like
I haven't faced my fair share of weird shit. I
winked at her and hit the button for the fourth floor.
The doors slid shut, and I sprinted towards the stairwell
that led to the upper floors.

Speaker 2 (02:18:35):
More scares to come, weekly, Spooky, We'll be right back.

Speaker 1 (02:18:42):
Trying to be as sneaky as I could moving up
the stairs. I didn't exactly wear the most appropriate footwear
for an operation, however, sensible shoes be damned. I wanted
to look hot and cool. I also wanted to look cool.
I knew this stairwell pretty well. I shared my first

(02:19:03):
kiss with Luri in this place. She was so shy
she trembled as I leaned in and kissed her. Okay,
gotta get my head in the game. Slowly, I squeaked
the door open an inch so that I could see
into the hallway and assess the situation. I could see
probably twelve kids, all aged from ten to probably close

(02:19:26):
to eighteen or so, huddled around the doors, lining the
hallway like an execution line. This Gary was going to
execute them, and likely soon. I looked down at my
wristwatch and Minnie mouse looked back at me and said,
eleven fifty seven pm. The smell from the rots wafted

(02:19:48):
into my nostrils and assaulted it hard. Death has an
unmistakable scent, and I've been around it too many times
since I became an agent, putrefied bodies and liquefied organs
and so much worse. The rots didn't have much in
the way of their faces left, Unfortunately, it was just

(02:20:08):
scraps of flesh clinging to their skeletal remnants. The eyes
were no longer human, but burning balls of green light
that hated everything it saw before them. It is almost
time all shall be sacrificed for the glory of yasue.
A yell came from behind a closed door at the

(02:20:29):
end of the hallways common room. Don't need to think
too hard on who that was. Gary Screams and yells
of resistance from girls and boys, the sound of primal
fear that death was coming and nothing short of a
miracle could intervene. The elevator doors opened, fourth floor. The

(02:20:53):
air snapped cold in an instant, and ice started forming
all over the surfaces like a blast of arctic air.
Moisture froze and hung in the air, even taking a
breath hurt as my lungs started to freeze up. Anna
was not fucking around. This girl had something to prove,
and she wasn't going to let fear or doubt get

(02:21:16):
in her way. She was here to save her friends.
She was here to save me too. Throwing the door
open like I was smashing through a brick wall, it
was time to face down the legions of the undead.
No real weapons, but that's perfectly fine. I am a weapon,

(02:21:36):
reaching into that dark part of myself that comes from
my mother's vampiric side, and letting the blood in my
veins boil. Over All remnants of restraint are off. I
am going to unleash all the hell and darkness that
is embedded in my very essence. Vampire abilities aren't always
the same from one to another. We get enhance strength, speed,

(02:21:59):
and durable, but sometimes other special powers slip through. We
can grow wings, claws that cut through a bank vault,
and a bloodlust that rivals berserkers of ancient legend. I
am moving so fast that time virtually stands still and
I can fully assess the situation before me. The rots

(02:22:21):
are absolutely caught off guard and slowly turn their deceased
skulls towards me, too late, closing the distance between the
stairwell door and the first rot, I strike. This abomination
of flesh and bone was mine for the taking. I
hit hard bone craters underneath my foot. As I collapse

(02:22:43):
its chest into paste, this meat puppet explodes in a
shower of blood and tattered bits of skin and worse,
it flies against the next closest rot, and it knocks
it to the floor before it can touch one of
the hostages lined up along the hallway. The sheer force
of the impact shattered its skull and fragmented it into

(02:23:05):
thousands of pieces. The kids shrieked in panic, but held
their position on the floor. Two rots down, four to go.
Adrenaline filled my veins, and something deeper from my supernatural
side fueled my speed. Snapping my hands at my sides,
my vampiric claws extended from my fingers almost six inches,

(02:23:27):
supernaturally hardened and ready to take down whatever stood in
my way. I've only used my claws a few times,
but I know it can cut through military speck armor
if necessary. One of the rots slapped me across the
face with its skeletal hand. I felt parts of my
skin burn and tingle with the infusion of necrotic energy.

(02:23:49):
This rod had moved just as fast as me and
was intent on killing me, so I couldn't interfere with
its master's plans. I wasn't prepared for the hit, and
its it's done me. For just a moment, the taste
of death filled my mouth. This is what the grave
must feel like, as time itself eats your flesh. I

(02:24:10):
instinctively grabbed at my face and the wound. I did
it without even thinking. My vampiric ability would heal the
wound shortly, but I could still die if I didn't
get some distance. This was going to cost me my life.
The rot was in my face and outreached its claws
toward my throat. The first touch was a glancing blow.

(02:24:33):
It wasn't enough to kill. If the undead creature managed
to fully grab a hold of my windpipe, then it
would use all of its death fueled grasp to decay
the very flesh from my body. I had no time
to dodge or maneuver out of the way. It was
way too close. I couldn't get enough room to swing
my claws at it great. I'm going to die before

(02:24:56):
I get a chance to even be assigned a proper
field office. A high powered gust of polar air rushed
past the side of my face and knocked me forward
and almost flat on my ass. I rolled into it
as best I could and tried to regain some semblance
of control. It wasn't pretty, but I caught myself before

(02:25:16):
I was completely prone. Anna was right beside me, and
her face was as unreadable as an arctic glacier. Ice
flowed from her outstretched hands in an ever increasing frequency
and tempo. The zombie like creature that had wounded me
was now coated in a thick, almost opaque sheet of ice.

(02:25:37):
Unable to move from its frozen tomb, the creature fell
to the floor and broke apart. This little powerhouse was
done fucking around, and something deep within her had awakened.
Anna was ready to throw down, and it seemed like
she was going to fully embrace her gifts. I'd only
really met her, and something had snapped in her. This

(02:25:59):
was one of those moments that defines us here at
Ghoul School. You need to go. I've got this, the
kids said, with stern authority that I certainly didn't expect
from her. The other rots had turned their attention towards
Anna and seemed intent on her. A look of determination
had set on the teenager's face. An aura of cold

(02:26:20):
radiated off her, so intense that my eyes felt like
they were going to freeze shut. The hallway filled with
a blinding cloud of ice and snow, and you couldn't
see more than a foot in front of your face.
The kids screamed and the rots roared back in retaliation.
I glanced at Anna and she never stopped looking forward. Caroline,

(02:26:43):
go stop, Gary, I'll handle this. Let me clear your path.
This kid would be a great field agent when the
time comes. Anna channeled whatever power she had and thrust
her left hand forward in a dramatic gesture. The skeletal
like rots glared back at her and began to advance
on our position in the hallway. A glowing sphere of

(02:27:05):
blue energy crackled out from her outstretched hand. She closed
her eyes and a new look of concentration was on
her face. The snowstorm in the hallway intensified, and wind
whipped around us in a wild, howling storm. Good luck kid,
I smiled at her and got myself ready to charge

(02:27:26):
down the hallway. You could measure time and heart beats
for a moment. The four rots broke through the snowstorm
and were right on top of us within seconds. This
was it. The air completely changed, and for a second
it was as cold as the depths of outer space.
It was like being hit in the face by liquid nitrogen.

(02:27:49):
Cold doesn't even begin to describe it. I closed my
eyes reflexively to protect myself. This really was it.

Speaker 2 (02:27:59):
Afraid, good, weakly spooky. We'll be right back.

Speaker 1 (02:28:08):
The hallway was dead quiet, No one and nothing moved.
I was perceptive of my own heartbeat, and for a
second that was it. I was alone. No wait, there
were more heart beats. Frightened, but definitely there. I opened
my eyes and saw the once vibrant colored hallway looking

(02:28:30):
like the aftermath of a blizzard. I don't know what
I expected to see when I started looking around, but
I was pleasantly surprised. The rots were frozen in place
in front of us. The undead creatures were completely turned
into solid ice and utterly transmuted into something completely harmless.

(02:28:51):
I reached out and pushed one of them. The touch
burned my skin from the temperature difference, but they were
for all intents and purposes dead. Whatever force of malevolence
powered their undead forms was completely annihilated. The rots were
destroyed and turned into ice sculptures. Right before us, Anna,

(02:29:14):
a boy's voice called out, and it seemed almost hopeful.
Then a few more voices called out as the snowstorm
dissipated into a light flurry. Good. The hostages, as far
as I can tell, are unharmed, except for maybe some frostbite.
Anna can take care of them. We still yasue, arise

(02:29:37):
and come forth devour the unbelievers. Then blood curdling screaming,
the snapping of bone and flesh, and something indescribable. Gary,
I didn't even have time to register that I was
flying down the hallway at breakneck speed. My body was
rushing forward towards a brightly decorated common room door. I

(02:30:02):
threw my full body weight at it and crashed through
and splintered it into pieces as it exploded from the
force assaulting my senses is the pungent odor of death
once again, but also cinnamon. This kid, Gary is doubled
over in a darkened corner of the room and clutching

(02:30:23):
his midsection. He raises his head at me and looks
at me with pure daggers and hatred in his beady eyes.
The Christmas sweater is drenched in an unfamiliar substance. I
couldn't make out much of his form beyond the garish sweater,
but what little I could see I didn't like. This

(02:30:45):
wasn't human anymore. You dare enter Yasu's domain. The voice
wasn't the same one I had heard in the hallway.
This was distorted, warped. This voice wasn't the pimple thing
face dorky teenager named Gary Ya Sue had arrived. This

(02:31:07):
horrific blend of flesh and horror stood up to an
impossible height as skins sloughed off of their form, limbs
extended to an unnatural length, and what little of Gary's
face was left distorted into a mess of tentacles and
eyeballs from impossible places. This was a cosmic horror given

(02:31:29):
form right before me. Twelve am. No time for witty banter,
no time for a strategy, just me and them, tooth
and claw, me and them. No, I had one more
weapon in my back pocket, One thing my mom had

(02:31:49):
said to me before I left for Ghoul School. It
was also the last time I ever saw my parents. Honey,
you're a monster, but you don't have to act like one.
You choose what that means today. I chose violence. I
am a monster, and you will remember my name. I

(02:32:12):
do fucking dare. I flew at this hybrid of Gary
and this avatar of the death god Yasu. I extended
my claws once again and bared my vampire fangs. Deep inside.
I started to let go of all that I had
kept in check for what seemed like forever. Gifted and
supernatural abilities and whatever else I had was being unleashed

(02:32:36):
with this flurry of blows. I didn't have time for
this to end any other way than Yasue dying here
and now we got entangled and grappled with each other.
Ya Sue was still bound by some of the limitations
of the physical body they were inhabiting. I could use
that to my advantage. I'm stronger, faster, and whatever this

(02:32:59):
thing is, it hasn't fully transitioned to its full godly form.
It's still vulnerable, and I can stop it. I have
to stop it. Claws sunk deep into the creature and
it let out a cry of unnatural pain. I kept
slashing and clawing with all that I had in me.

(02:33:19):
Fluid of some kind started oozing out of the wounds.
Yasu had weapons of their own, and they dug into
me and drew blood. The wounds were deep, the burning
pain was unbearable, but I had little choice but to
press on with my attack. You will not stop me.

(02:33:40):
Yasu's grave voice rattled in my ears, but it wasn't
as brave as it was even moments before, Yasu drove
a clawed appendage into an open wound on my chest
and twisted it like a knife. I yelped out, but
still kept fighting back with all I could muster. The

(02:34:00):
Death God plunged another attack into me, but made one
vital mistake. Yasue left an opening for me to exploit
due to Gary's body. He may be taller, but he
didn't have my body weight. I threw all my weight
into my next follow up hit and knocked them to
the ground and left them momentarily stunned. They didn't think

(02:34:24):
I had much left in the tank, and on one hand,
they weren't wrong. I'm about to do something I never
wanted to do.

Speaker 2 (02:34:36):
Are you afraid? Good, weakly spooky. We'll be right back.

Speaker 1 (02:34:44):
I bared my fangs to their full length and bit
down on the befouled neck of Yasu and started to bite.
Draining the life from someone or something carries a heavy
price that no one talks about outside of vampire circles.
You take not just their life essence, but pieces of them, memories, fears,

(02:35:09):
in a short piece of their soul into your own.
It's why a lot of vampires are crazy or are
solitary loaners. It drives you mad. It takes a toll
that no mortal is prepared to deal with. Vampires like
my mom were rare. She retained what made her human.

(02:35:30):
I kept sucking blood and life from this horrific creature
till it stopped twitching under me. I felt memories of
gary abuse, bullying, and a lonely kid who saw as
powers as a curse. I also had memories and pulses
from Yasu, worship, prowess from untold places that gave power,

(02:35:50):
and a bloodlust unlike anything I had ever experienced. After
an eternity, it was over. Life had left the body
and it started to decompose before me, I shakily rose
to my feet and watched the body melt into the
carpeted floor of the common room. Within seconds, it was

(02:36:11):
a puddle of fluids and bits of something I couldn't identify.
The taste of blood lingered in my mouth. I don't
know what happened next, as the adrenaline left me and
my claws disengaged and the energy in me dropped like
a stone. I felt tears run down my face and
all my emotions were all over the place. It was

(02:36:32):
the resonance of the souls I had touched mixed with
my own. I had absorbed something alien. I had absorbed
something beyond myself. I had taken lives before, but not
like this. There was no bravado in this. There was
something in this that felt different. I am different now,

(02:36:56):
and I don't know what that means. I have to leave,
but I've got to check on the kids and Anna
to make sure things are okay. Am I going to
be okay? After all this? I could feel the edge
of corruption from Gary and Yasu, but I pushed it
down to the depths of my psyche to deal with

(02:37:17):
at a later date. Still a few things to wrap
up before I can leave, and also phone calls to
make happy New Year. Hey. The Department of Paranormal Resources
came in and cleaned up the mess at the school.
The FEDS sent the kids home until a more secure
permanent residence could be assured. It won't take too long,

(02:37:40):
after all, Uncle Sam wants to keep a tight leash
on his investments. I got chewed out by Director Carlson,
but also congratulations on a job well done. I had
managed to take down a significant paranormal threat without backup.
I had lived up to the expectations of my training.

(02:38:00):
I'm not sleeping particularly well after everything, but that's residual
psychic resonance from Gary and Yasu. It should pass in
a few more weeks. I hope Carlson's team gave me
a pass from the psychics, so I guess I'm good
to go. My wounds have mostly healed, but i'll have

(02:38:21):
a scar across my face from where the rot touched me.
I think it makes me sexy in a weird way.
The Department has promoted me to a full agent and
I was to begin my new assignment in New York
State before the end of February. I kept in touch
with Anna via text. She was in good spirits. After

(02:38:42):
the incident, the kids she rescued looked at her in
a whole new light. Now they won't be calling her
slush anymore. She'll need a cool nickname or title when
she graduates out of the program. I hope she has
a better time than I did when I went through
it all. Sammy's funeral, but I didn't approach his parents

(02:39:03):
or his partner, Franklin. It was a good service, but
I kept to myself in the back. I put my
hand on his casket and said my goodbyes, and then
left as quietly as I came. I'm sorry I couldn't
save you, but the kids you helped teach will be
the next strong batch of heroes and agents that I'll

(02:39:23):
work alongside. I think that's a pretty powerful legacy. If
Anna is any indication of things to come from that
graduating class, I hope they give him a memorial like
they did for Dan and Laurie on school grounds. Everyone
who died deserves to be remembered for something. It'll be

(02:39:44):
time to pack up my apartment soon and make my
way to New York and see what happens next. I
know that girl I was supposed to have a date
with Rhianne lives in New York City, so I'll call
her and see if we can take a swing at this.
The life of a supernatural the empowered Troubleshooter isn't boring,
that's for sure. And you know, after all of this,

(02:40:06):
after facing life and death and consuming the blood of
some creature beyond all human comprehension of evil, I never
did get that damn tuna sandwich either. And that's the marathon,
my spookies, six stories down and the clock still ticking

(02:40:31):
like it's got something to prove. If you're feeling that
post listen buzz, half adrenaline, half why did I do
this to myself? Well, good, that means you did New
Year's Eve right. But don't wander too far, because on Wednesday,
New Year's Eve, we're dropping a brand new story, and

(02:40:55):
this one is the kind of chaos you only get
when the year is about to roll over and reality
is already ready for bed. Let's just say it starts
with a stupid perfect moment, summer heat, pull side boredom,
hair metal blasting, and then the air tears, a little shimmer,

(02:41:18):
a wrong vibration, and suddenly time isn't in a straight
line anymore. It's a rip you can reach into, and
once you realize you can touch the past. Once you
get greedy for one more conversation, one more chance, one
more fix, New Year's Eve stops being a celebration and

(02:41:42):
becomes the night the universe sends you a bill. So
keep an eye on the weekly spooky feed, and if
you catch a whiff of burning ozone, maybe don't step
toward it.

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