#so bisexual

From the moment you pull into the driveway, you know something is off. At the time, you can’t explain it. But you will soon have answers to all your questions.

It begins, as most things do, with a knock on a front door. As you had trudged up the steps of this cabin, nestled away in the forest, you couldn’t help but feel a bit wary. The place is a bit too secluded for your liking—and the axe lodged into the tree stump at the foot of the stairs certainly hadn’t increased your confidence. Still, you had ultimately decided to walk up the steps and knock on the door. It’s a bit too late to go back now, you think to yourself. Besides, a thousand dollars is a thousand dollars—and you need the money. 

There is no one answering the door, to your immediate annoyance. “Hello?” you say. There is no response. You decide to knock again, a bit louder than last time. For a few seconds, there is still no answer. Just as you’re about to turn around and abandon your plans for the day, the door slowly creaks open. 

There is a man standing in the doorway. He has short brown hair and greenish eyes, and he wears an unassuming black shirt and pants. Overall, he looks relatively normal. “Hello, I’m Josef,” the man says, his lips tugging ever so slightly at the corners. His smile sends a shiver down your spine. The gesture looks almost wooden—mechanical and unnatural. 

“Hi, I’m the videographer,” you say, before introducing yourself. You decide to use a fake name—as you normally do. You don’t think anyone needs to know your real name. The majority of your customers just want a specific service from you and, as long as your videography can fulfill their desires, they don’t care what your name is. 

Josef seems different in that regard. He stares at you for a moment with a scrutinizing gaze. “That’s not your real name,” he says, with a ghost of a smile, “I can tell.” Josef’s stare is eerie, as if he is peering right through you. 

“It is,” you lie through gritted teeth. Dusty alarms are flashing and blaring in your head. You need the money, you remind yourself. It doesn’t matter if this guy is a little weird. As long as you survive the night, you’ll be fine. You’ve seen weird before—you can handle weird. You just hope this guy isn’t outright dangerous. “It’s my real name.” You maintain. 

There is a long pause, wrought with silence and tension. “Okay,” Josef eventually remarks, although he looks disbelieving. “Well, anyway, I’m glad you’re here. Can we start with a hug?” You don’t even get a chance to shake your head and step away before you’re being tugged past the doorway and into a hug. The man’s arms wrap around you and, for a split second, his grip feels unbreakable. You feel your breath stutter and you just barely manage to keep your composure. You get the feeling you don’t hide your thoughts well enough, because Josef has a knowing grin on his face as you break apart. 

What Josef says next is, in a word, unbelievable. It’s not the story itself that seems untrue—it’s the way he delivers it. For some reason, you can’t get rid of the somewhat unfounded conviction that Josef is lying. You decide to play along, since you really don’t have a choice. It helps that Josef gives you half of the money you agreed on, with the promise that he’ll give you the rest once the night is up. Then, he promptly takes you upstairs and proclaims that he’s going to take a bath—to which you are forced to be an unwilling spectator. The man’s bath—or “tubby,” as he calls it—would be a sweet sentiment if it weren’t so… unsettling. You bite down any comments and manage to keep quiet the entire time. 

If the tubby is bad, then what follows is much worse. Josef proceeds to take you on a drive towards an undisclosed location that supposedly has water with healing properties. You’re then forced to follow after him on a long, brutal hike up rocky slopes and through thickets of trees. You’re very close to giving up and abandoning the money you were promised, but the two of you manage to make it to the place Josef was looking for. He seems to think the heart carved into the rock formation below is a “sign” meant for him, and you don’t have the energy to argue. Josef then urges you to join him in wading in the water. You try refusing, but he eventually grabs you by the arm and pulls you in before you can resist. Then, the man pulls you into another hug. You feel goosebumps rising along your skin—and not just from the freezing temperature of the water.

After your hike, you stop at a diner. Josef claims the place has excellent pancakes, yet he looks at the menu as if seeing it for the first time. This is yet another red flag to add to the quickly growing pile of unsettling observations you’ve made about him. You’ve made it this far, though. You’re more than halfway through the day now. You can do this. 

Your meal with Josef is awkward at first. You don’t feel like talking, and you can feel Josef’s gaze burning into your skin. Eventually, he is the one to break the silence. “Have you ever done something you’re ashamed of?” Josef asks you, in the hazy afternoon sunlight. 

You still feel that honesty is dangerous, so you make up a story about falling from your chair and hitting your head in kindergarten. Josef seems to buy it. He takes another bite of his pancakes, before a contemplative expression falls onto his face. 

“I have a confession to make,” he murmurs, looking at you expectantly. “Something I’m ashamed of.” You purse your lips and take a deep breath, before urging him to continue. Josef seems to hesitate. You can’t tell if his hesitation is genuine or manufactured. He pulls out his phone and opens his camera roll, before turning it around to show you. “I took pictures of you… when you first arrived.” Indeed, he swipes through several photos of you sitting in your car, walking up the steps, and standing near the front door. 

Your ears are ringing. Your vision is tunneling. “Why?” you choke out. 

“I thought… maybe if I got to know you before you got to know me… then I would be less scared,” Josef admits. He looks down at his interlocked hands. There is malice lingering in the pull of his lips. “Do you forgive me?”

Something is wrong with this man. You don’t know what it is, and you’re certain you don’t want to find out. You breathe in, breathe out. Blink a few times. You let your gaze wander across your surroundings. “...Yes.” You really don’t have a choice, do you? Whatever gets you out of this situation faster.

“Really?” Josef asks. 

“Yes,” you respond. Josef seems to visibly brighten, and his energy from before begins to return. Meanwhile, you’re trying to figure out how to leave as early as possible. Technically, you were booked for the whole day. Fortunately, it’s already turning dark outside. Once the two of you finish eating and head back to his place, it will be late enough for you to leave. You just need to survive the rest of this meal and the car ride back. 

Josef isn’t as keen to let you depart, however. Once you return to his home, he’s quick to head up the first few steps. Once he notices that you aren’t following him, he freezes and turns back around. “Come on, have a drink,” he smiles. In the dark, his eyes almost seem to glitter. 

“I really should go,” you say, shoving your trembling hands into your pockets. Your heel drags back against the gravel underneath your foot. You’re so close to your car. As if sensing your thoughts, Josef walks back down the steps and stops in front of you. He claps a hand on your shoulder. 

“Just one drink,” Josef insists. “Then, I promise you can leave.”

This is a horrible idea. His fingers are digging into your shoulder. “Fine,” you say through gritted teeth, refusing to acknowledge the dread coiling at the pit of your stomach. Josef’s grip leaves for a moment, before he slings his arm around your shoulders and leads you back up to his home. You’re grateful that it’s dark outside, because otherwise, he would likely see the terror you’re sure is written all over your face. Once you make it inside, Josef is quick to move to the kitchen and grab the whiskey. He returns with two glasses and pours you a drink. The two of you clink glasses and take a drink. You cough at the sheer strength of the alcohol. 

“Look at us,” Josef says after a moment. “This has just been a great day. I’ve just made a friend.” We’re not friends is lodged in your throat. For some reason, you feel as if it’s dangerous to disagree. So, instead, you keep quiet. 

For a while, there is nothing but a tense silence. “You’re awfully quiet,” Josef then remarks casually. “Something on your mind?” There’s a gleam in his eyes. You take a deep breath and down the rest of your drink, before getting to your feet. 

“Okay,” you say resolutely, slamming your drink against the table with a bit too much force. “It’s time for me to go.”

“What?” Josef asks. You ignore him and walk towards the kitchen, grabbing your jacket and putting it on. “You just got here, we just sat down. Come on, stay a while.” 

“I had a drink, and now I really need to—” you break off, freezing in place. To your surprise, the rest of your payment is tucked into the pocket of your jacket. But that’s not what you’re looking for. You rifle around in your jacket pocket one more time. Sure enough, your keys aren’t there. “Josef,” you say, your voice sounding eerily calm despite your mounting trepidation. 

“Yes?” he asks, immune to your internal panic and growing suspicions. 

You take a deep breath. “Do you have my keys?” You’re unable to hide the accusatory tone in your voice.  

“I don’t,” Josef responds, a flicker of confusion and betrayal on his face. You frown and try to think back to where you put them. Actually, you don’t remember moving them at all. They’ve been in your jacket pocket this whole time. You never touched them. That look on Josef’s face… It’s an act, it’s all an act, you realize. 

“Yes, you do,” you maintain, “I know you have them. They were in my jacket. I haven’t touched it since we got back.”

Josef stares at you for a long moment. Your heart is racing out of your chest, but you stand your ground. You can’t stay here even a moment longer. You need to get home. You need to leave, you need to escape. You can’t shake the feeling that you’re in grave danger. 

You don’t know how long you spend staring at each other. At some point, Josef’s serious expression breaks into a grin. “Clever,” he says, pointing at you before reaching into his pocket. Your keys sit in his palm and, for an awful moment, you think he isn’t going to hand them over. Then, Josef throws them to you. You catch them and turn around, muttering a quick goodbye and practically running to the front door. You take the steps down two at a time, your breathing growing erratic. Even when you get into your car and lock it, you’re terrified. A dark silhouette stands out against the dim lighting cast on the porch. Josef is watching, even as you pull out of his driveway and drive away. You don’t feel safe until you’ve reached your home and have locked the door behind you. You lock all your windows, then double check that they’re locked and close the curtains. It takes a while for you to fall asleep that night. 

The next morning, you’re greeted with a package on your doorstep. Inside is a disc and a stuffed wolf. The stuffed animal looks innocuous at first. Upon closer examination, you realize that there’s something rattling inside it. You hesitantly rip the back open, revealing a silver chain. When you tug the chain, it frees itself from the stuffing and catches the light in your living room to reveal a heart shaped pendant. The inside of the pendant has a photo of you next to a photo of Josef, and there are initials engraved on the outside of it. A ‘J’ for him and… an initial for your first name—your real first name. He knows your real name, and he knows your address. 

After barely a moment of contemplation, you throw the necklace, wolf, and DVD in the trash. You try to go about your day as usual, but you know you’re doing a pretty poor job of pretending that everything is fine. Your coworkers tell you as much, and you’re soon dismissed with the order to “relax.” You huff a laugh at the thought. Everything is worse when you’re home, because Josef knows you live there. For all you know, he could be breaking in to watch you sleep.  

In the span of three days, you get two more discs. You throw away the second one. The third one is the last one, judging from the writing on it. For some reason, you decide to trust the message and place the disc in your disc player. After all, you threw away the first two. You’re curious to see what this one contains. 

For a moment, there is nothing. Then, the screen stutters to life and you find yourself looking at Josef. He raises his eyebrows at the camera, before shaking his head. Josef greets you, before uttering your real name and shaking his head. “You threw away my other gifts,” he says. “I was very disappointed. Heartbroken.” Somehow, he looks entirely sincere. Was he truly heartbroken?

“Still, I’m offering you a chance,” Josef continues. “An olive branch, if you will. I don’t want this to end between us.”

“This is Lake Gregory,” he states. “It’s wide open, as you can see…” he breaks off and pivots the camera so that you get a full view of the place. “I will be here tomorrow, sitting at this park bench.” He takes a breath and smiles, before the camera clicks off. You’re left to stare at your blank television screen in disbelief. 

You know you shouldn’t go to the lake—it would be incredibly dangerous. Yet, you can’t continue living as if nothing happened. Every flicker of a shadow, every minute noise has you paranoid. You can’t keep living like this—jumping at every sudden movement. You think about calling the police again, before remembering how they treated you when you tried calling before. Josef isn’t the guy’s real name and his home was a rental. He’s virtually undetectable, the officer on the phone said. You remember hanging up and nearly slamming your phone down on the table in frustration and helplessness. 

It’s a crazy thought, but this could be your chance at closure. If you don’t show up, you’re sure you’ll be stalked for the rest of your life. You’d live in constant fear, knowing that Josef could be lurking in any shadow or around any corner. But, this way, you could end things. You could put an end to the uncertainty. 

The thought is what pushes you to walk out to the car determinedly the next day, plug Lake Gregory into your navigation, and drive along. Some time later, you pull into a parking spot and look out to the shimmering water. You don’t see Josef, but you get the sense that he’s here somewhere. If there were even a minute chance of you showing up, he would have to be here. You take a deep breath and step out of the car, before walking to the park bench. You’re certain your heart has never raced so fast. When you make it to the bench, you turn around with your back to the water. You’ll watch for him and wait for him to approach. 

At some point, you see him. He’s wearing the Peachfuzz mask and wielding an axe. He slowly sneaks up in a few steps, before evidently noticing that you’re staring. After a moment, he takes the mask off, lets the axe fall to his side, and clears the distance between the two of you. There’s a mix of emotions flickering along his face. 

“Josef,” you remark. The man closes the distance between you, until you’re only a few steps away from one another. 

“Now this is what I find most fascinating about you,” Josef explains, gesturing towards you. His eyes are gleaming. He doesn’t look offended by your wariness; if anything, he looks intrigued, fascinated. “You mistrusted me from the moment we met. You gave me a fake name, fake stories. Everything was fake.” He punctuates the statement by thudding his axe against the grass. 

You don’t know what to say. Your tongue feels ironed to the roof of your mouth. “I suppose I can’t complain,” Josef continues. “Because I was doing the same. Fake name, fake stories.” His hand still grips the axe. You stare at it warily. 

“Everyone else was too trusting,” he remarks. “They almost seemed to give their lives to me, you know? Aaron, I mean… he just sat on that bench and waited. He never turned around.” You follow his gesture and look at the bench. After a second glance, you think you can see dried blood stains on the wood. Bile rises in your throat. You’re biting down on the inside of your cheek so hard that you can taste blood, metallic and coppery on your tongue. 

“I want to get to know you,” Josef continues, taking a step forward. You match it with a half-step backwards, only to realize that you’re now standing on the very edge of the grass. One more step and you’ll fall into the lake. “The real you.”

He extends a hand, an unspoken question on his lips. The air around you seems to still. Everything falls quiet in anticipation. 

Your heart thundering in your chest, you reach out and take his hand.