Horror Writer Released

I was just a kid. A lonely one. It’s hard to make friends when you’re constantly on the move- military dad. Sometimes only a few months would pass before we’d be packing up to move to yet another place, where I’d have to go to another school and figure out how things worked there. By the time I ended up in Falconbridge Elementary I’d decided I wouldn’t even try to make friends this time. Why bother? I’d just be leaving them soon anyway.

But life decided to throw Curtis Riker my way. He was in my grade but he was a year older. He was held back a year, rumors about why ranged from getting kicked out for blowing up a toilet in the boy’s bathroom to getting into a fistfight with a middle schooler. I believed both could’ve happened- Curtis was a wild child, freckled with a mischievous grin full of gaps where he had missing teeth and red hair going every possible direction like he’d stuck a fork in an electric socket. I don’t know what drew him to me, but the third day at Falconbridge he and his posse plopped their lunch trays next to mine and Curtis asked if I’d ever shot one of my dad’s guns.

The answer was no, but I lied and told him I had. That was the right answer because Curtis immediately took me into his crew. He was the de facto leader of course, he was too loud and opinionated not to be. The other boys- Todd, Christian, Luke, and Alan- never questioned him. They practically worshiped the ground he walked on and soon I was too.

In hindsight, they were all jerks. But in hindsight, I guess since I was one of them, I was a jerk too.

At that age I actually liked Halloween. Most kids do- wear a fun costume, get piles of free candy, what’s not to like? That year I decided to be a scarecrow, and this year, I wasn’t gonna have my parents with me. I was going with my friends.

My mom was naturally a little hesitant to not be going with me, but my dad came through for me that night. After I promised to be back by ten, he smacked me on the back, teasingly pushed my hat into my eyes, and told me to have fun.

I met everyone right outside Curtis’ house. Most everyone was already there. Todd in his zombie costume moaned about brains, Christian waved around his pirate sword, Luke bared his cheap plastic fangs at me with the ‘I vant to suck your blood’ line, and Alan was already having to rewrap himself in toilet paper as his mummy costume was already falling apart.

Curtis came out exactly five minutes later than we agreed to meet- he probably made us wait on purpose, now that I think about it. Way to exercise his power over us. His costume was pretty low effort, fake cut on his cheek, ketchup blood on his black clothes, and a fake bloody knife strapped to his waist. “I’m a serial killer,” he said, as if that explained everything. It certainly didn’t explain the stuffed pillowcase thrown over his shoulder.

Curtis snickered as he looked over each of our costumes, offering his ‘creative criticism’- Christian needed to get a new costume idea since was the third year running he was a pirate, he asked if Alan was dressed like a piece of poop, and I had chosen a ‘baby costume’. It was embarrassing, but since we all got the same treatment, we all just laughed it off. None of us judged his costume back though. We knew better.

“Well, come on! There’s candy awaiting us!” Curtis waved his knife about. “I know the best neighborhoods- they won’t mind your baby costume!”

We all charged down the street, and soon we were just one of the many gaggles of kiddos out for treats. I should’ve known we were some of the kids out for tricks though. When an old lady had the unfortunate decision of handing out apples, Curtis pulled quite the face.

“Apples! Gross!” He tossed it up and down before he threw it into the sidewalk. Now I understood the pillow case as he produced a dozen eggs. “Alan, you can do the honors.”

“With pleasure!” Alan snatched two eggs from the carton. He reeled his fists back and sent them flying into the window. The yolk splattered across the glass and oozed to the ground and Curtis threw his head back and laughed like it was the funniest thing he’d ever seen.

“Come on! We didn’t get a treat, so they get tricked!”

We all ran down the sidewalk before we could get yelled at for being little jerks, Curtis cackling all the way. I was laughing too, but it wasn’t because it was funny. It was the kind of laugh you made when you were terrified you were going to get caught. If I got caught egging some nice old lady’s house, I wouldn’t be let out of my room until I turned eighteen.

Once we got away though, I couldn’t deny that thrill. I’d been apart of something bad. And it was fun.

Curtis was the judge of what houses gave good candy. It wasn’t always apples or pennies that earned his ire. Turned out he had a serious peanut allergy so if the house only had candy with nuts in it, he’d bust out a roll of toilet paper or hand out eggs. He never actually did the tp-ing or egging himself, it was up to one of us. I was both excited and afraid for my turn.

But he didn’t choose me for that… he had something worse in mind.

It was near the end of the night and we had all the sugary loot kids could want. Curtis wasn’t settled though. I could see by how he was tapping his foot and scanned his eyes about that he wanted to do something else.

“Hey, Michael?”

The hair on my neck stood up. Curtis had a sly grin on his face and he nodded across the street.

“I know of a way to get some more candy. Look at that baby over there.”

I looked over and saw the ‘baby’ he was talking about.

This little girl was probably no older than five and definitely shouldn’t have been trick or treating on her own. But there she was, skipping down the sidewalk, clutching a bright pink jack’o’lantern bucket that was overflowing with candy.

“You got the baby costume, you go distract her while we get in position.”

I swallowed. “What are you gonna do?” I asked.

Curtis grinned wickedly. “Gonna scare her, that’s all,” he said in a voice that tried and failed to sound innocent.

I wasn’t a stupid kid. I could put together what he was planning on doing. I wanted to say no. That we had enough candy, we didn’t need to take anyone else’s. Especially a little girl’s.

But I wasn’t brave enough. I nodded dumbly before I cut across the street. The guys’ whispers faded into silence as I stepped in front of the little girl.

She was so tiny. Her dress was just as pink as her candy bucket, with plastic wings attached to the back and a tiara sitting crookedly in her blonde curls. She smiled up at me with no fear, no suspicion.

“Hello!” she chirped, cocking her head to the side and almost making her tiara fall off.

I almost threw up with nerves, but I put on a smile. “Hi, uh, I’m Michael. What’s your name?”

“Call me Daisy!” She giggled. “Are you a scarecrow tonight, Michael?”

“Uh huh.” I could see movement out of the corner of my eye. “What are you?”

“I’m a fairy princess!” Daisy curtsied with one hand. “I like being a princess!”

Before I had to find any other way to drag out this conversation, Curtis leaped out of the bushes and snatched up the little girl. Pressing the fake knife to her neck, he hissed, “You wanna die tonight, little girl?”

Daisy’s cheer melted into sheer terror. She shrieked and tried to squirm free, but Curtis had such a tight grip on her I’m sure he left bruises. Alan swooped out and snatched away her bucket.

“That’s mine!” Daisy cried out, but Curtis just shoved her into the ground. Her tiara popped off, rolling down the cracked pavement and coming to a stop a few feet away.

“It’s ours now, you dumb baby!” Curtis sneered before he pulled one of his feet back. Before I could stop him, he kicked that poor little girl so hard in the ribs she nearly went into the street.

She laid still for a moment before she looked up at us, dirt on her cheeks and a bruise forming on her chin. Her bottom lip trembled for a moment before she wailed.

“MOMMA! MOMMA, HELP ME!”

“Come on, let’s go!”

Curtis dashed away, whooping and hollering like we’d pulled off some grand theft. I couldn’t look at Daisy anymore. But I could hear her crying and screaming for her mommy as we made our ‘great escape’.

I felt like the worst person alive. Even as I accepted the cut of the ‘spoils’, I wanted to die from the shame. I should’ve turned around. I should’ve just left the group right then.

But I never got the chance before we met her.

We turned the corner and there she was- a woman, taller than my dad, her smooth, young face not matching her white, flowing hair, wearing a silver gown and a shimmering cape. We all skidded to a stop and stared at her. The way she was looking right at us, it was like she was waiting for us.

After a brief pause, the woman walked up to us. There was a smile on her lips that didn’t reach her eyes and something about it sent chills up my spine. Now that I think back on it… she looked at us like a cat looks at a nest of baby mice.

“My, my, my… what wonderful costumes.” She tilted her head to the side, her eyes landing on the pink bucket that Luke was holding at the moment. “You seem to have an extra candy bucket. Who does that belong to?”

You could hear a pin drop with how quiet it was. Where did all the people go? At the moment, we seemed to be the only people in the universe, let alone on the street. Why wasn’t anyone still out trick or treating? At the very least, the stragglers should still be heading home.

Luke gulped and stared at the sidewalk. “Uh-uh… we just… found it…” he mumbled.

The woman heaved a big sigh and frowned.

“Did you now?”

I blinked and missed it. One second she was just standing in front of us with a disapproving look. The next she had heaved Luke up with a single hand, fingers digging into his neck. Luke dropped his candy bucket as he tried to fight her, chocolate bars and lemon candies spilling onto the ground and rolling away.

Curtis reacted first, puffing up and trying to act brave as he grabbed the woman’s arm to try to make her let go of Luke. “Let him go, lady! What’s your problem!?” he snapped.

“My problem?” The woman hardly seemed bothered by Luke’s squirming or Curtis’ pulling of her arm, just slowly looking down at us with the iciest of glares. “My problem is with lying, rotten little boys that steal from my child. Now run, run as fast as you can. The Hunt’s began.”

At that moment we heard a howl, followed by the baying of hounds and a mischievous bell like laughter. The laughter was more frightening than the howl.

Curtis took off first, and Alan was hot on his heels. I paused for only a moment longer, just long enough to see the woman dig her fingers deeper into Luke’s skin and then hear a snap as she broke his neck. Luke gurgled for a second before going completely limp.

That got me running, me Todd and Christian, all screaming in terror. That woman had killed Luke with her bare hand, not hands, a single hand. There was no conscious end to my sprint, I just ran for my life… and so did everyone else.

Alan tripped. I don’t know if he caught his foot on something or if the toilet paper that made up his costume caused him to fall, but he fell on his face. He groaned and I stopped to help him… but that’s when the dogs appeared.

They were huge. Taller than a Great Dane but with a muscular build like a Rottweiler, their shining silver coats were spattered shortly in red as they pounced on Alan’s fallen body. They didn’t go for the kill. They tore away at him, Alan screaming and trying to fight back but it was one boy against five monstrous canines. One grabbed onto his face and tore his cheek clean off before it looked up at me. I looked back into its eyes… its dozen, yellow eyes. At least a dozen, I couldn’t be sure how many eyes it really had, didn’t stick around to count. I just shouted ‘I’m sorry!’ to the still screaming Alan before I ran again.

We heard Alan screaming blocks away. It was strange, I didn’t know the neighborhoods we were in, but I don’t think any of the other boys did either. The world around us seemed distorted, streets leading to nothing, their signs scrambled around and spinning like small whirlwinds. It didn’t really sink in until Christian suddenly broke right.

He was trying to do the smart thing- he headed right to one of the houses. He slammed up against the door before he began pounding away at the wood and turning frantically at the doorknob. “HELP! THERE’S DOGS OUT HERE TRYING TO KILL US! OPEN UP! HELP!” he screamed so loud it sounded painful.

I nearly got hope in my heart when the door slowly opened. I was halfway across the yard myself when I saw… who was opening the door. It was a teenager, dressed in all white, with features sharp like glass and a smile that didn’t speak of good things.

“Oh, nice sword!” he plucked it from Christian’s hand, twirling it around twice before he stabbed Christian. The plastic sword wasn’t anymore- it slid between his ribs like a knife into hot butter. Christian sputtered, his face going dead white as he was dragged inside. I heard him scream once, saw blood spray across the front window, and then I was gone as Curtis screamed that it was too late, that we needed to keep going.

We really weren’t home anymore. I don’t know where we were. There wasn’t going to be any help for us though. The houses were all dark. The streetlights flickered, sometimes nearly going dark too before going on so bright I felt the bulbs would burst.

Todd was cussing up a storm by this point, using words I didn’t even know existed. “This is all your fault, Curtis! It’s all your friggen’ fault!” he got out between his pants. He had to be getting tired, he wasn’t an athletic kid. I wasn’t either and my lungs were burning, my legs aching.

Curtis glared at Todd before he clearly landed on a solution. “Into the woods! We can lose them in there!” he pronounced before sliding down into the ditch and bolting into the trees. I followed, I thought it was a good plan. Todd did too, even if he kept swearing himself blue, Curtis was still the leader of our group… what was left of it anyway.

I almost, almost had hope we’d really get away now. The dogs were getting quieter, the world didn’t seem so warped and foreign now. Curtis held up his hand and we all stopped, finally taking the chance to catch our breaths.

Not a second passed and something scraped my cheek and thudded hard into the tree next to me. Blood dripped down my face as I stared at the offending object in question. An arrow. An actual arrow, fletched with white feathers.

Once again, back to running. It hurt to run. Every part of me ached as we now had to tear through brush and jump over roots to avoid the same fate as our friends. Sometime during the chase my scarecrow hat got knocked off, I didn’t even bother to look back at it. I didn’t want to see our pursuers getting closer.

“They’re doing this on purpose!”

Todd gasped and finally stumbled to a stop. “They’re just gonna-gonna chase us to death-”

I heard a thud and an arrow sprouted out from his belly, the tip dripping red. Todd’s face went stark white as he looked down… then almost immediately six more arrows were sticking out from him in all directions, one even coming out from his eye.

He started to crumple but I didn’t stop long enough to see him fall to the ground. Even if I realized how hopeless it was, I kept going. We were being chased again. The dogs were baying again, but they stayed the same distance. The arrows just barely missed us, but that wasn’t because they couldn’t hit us. They could. They were just waiting for us to give up.

They were going to kill us. They were just going to wait for us to give up first.

I cried. I bawled my eyes out, snot dripping down my lips as I stumbled through the dark, tears stinging my eyes so badly I could barely see.

“Stop crying, you big baby!”

Curtis glared at me, his face flushed redder than his hair. His voice was raspy from all the panting we were doing, and for a second I thought he was going to hit me… then he seemed to get an idea. “Look! Big tree!” He pointed ahead. “Let’s climb up it! If we get up high enough, they won’t be able to hit us!”

That sounded stupid, but my tired brain just couldn’t disagree. I put on that last burst of speed, praying I’d reach that tree before they got me…

And then Curtis stuck his foot out and tripped me. I bashed my face open on the ground, blood gushing out my nose as my vision blurred for a brief moment. When it cleared, I saw that Curtis was already halfway up that tree.

He left me to die.

I sobbed into the ground as shadows stretched over me. All of the hunters were dressed in white, their outfits strangely unblemished from dirt or leaves. And there was the woman again, tall, with an arrow notched in her bow.

And hanging off her back was Daisy, her face bruised, eyes still red from her tears.

Funny part about all this? I hadn’t ever actually let go of my sack of candy. If anything, my grip became like iron.

“I…” I sniffled before I got up to my knees. “I’m so s-sorry, I didn’t want to do it! I did it though, and I’m so s-s-sorry! Here!” I lifted up the bag as high as I could. “You can have mine! Just take it! I don’t- I don’t want to die!”

It was quiet again. Even the dogs had stopped barking.

Daisy let go of her mother’s back, landing on the ground and walking up to me. I was shaking. I think I wet myself. She managed to pry the sack of candy from my frozen grip and looked inside. “Oh, wow! Momma, look! There’s even more candy in here!” She showed off her new haul to her mother, beaming with joy. “You don’t have to kill that one, Momma, it’s okay! He made it better!”

The woman mulled it over, tapping her fingers against her bow as she considered it. Finally she sighed and nodded. “Yes, dear, that one can live. He has… some manners. And I think he’s learned his lesson. What about the other boy?”

“Oh no, you can kill that one! He was the one who shoved me to the ground and kicked me.” Daisy pulled out a packet of candy corn and gasped. “Ooooh, my favorite!”

Her mother nodded before she walked past us. I was shocked. I was… being spared. I was being left alive.

And Curtis’ attempt to hide up in a tree had not gone well. The woman raised her hand and waved it side to side, before my eyes I watched two birch trees sprout from the ground. They didn’t get too big, but they got big enough for her plans.

She whistled and two hunters launched themselves up the tree, in a second they had Curtis by the shirt and were dragging him back down. He fought like hell, kicking and screaming and even trying to bite them, but it was for nothing. He was dragged between the trees.

“Here, have some candy.”

Daisy handed me a piece of candy corn as Curtis was strapped to the trees. I didn’t eat it. I just clutched onto it and watched. The trees were bent down as far as they could go. Curtis looked at me. He probably was going to shout for help. To ask me to save him.

I just stared blankly as the trees were let go. The force of the trees whipping back up….

It tore him in half. Right down the middle. Blood and gore sprayed across the clearing, some getting to my face.

The group all cheered and I finally passed out.

When I woke up, I was in a hospital bed. My mother was crying. She didn’t say anything when I called out for her, she just launched herself and gripped me so tight my ribs about popped.

Between her sobbing she told me that she’d opened the door to cops on the front porch- I’d been taken to the hospital. My friends were found up and down the street, some psycho had attacked us and left us for dead. Only I was still alive.

I wanted to think it was a dream. That I’d just been attacked by some psycho and my mind just made up all the other things that happened.

I strangely don’t remember any of the pain that I had to have felt. I mean, I was in a car accident, and when I woke up from my week long coma I definitely felt pain. Both my legs are broken, along with several of my ribs and my back. My face was so swollen I looked like I’d been used as the personal punching bag of a heavyweight boxer.

But no, I don’t remember any pain. Just the light. And then I was walking down a dark hallway, following the light.

I can already tell what you’re thinking- a light at the end of a dark tunnel, I’m clearly going to heaven and this is my story of how it’s really like up there. That maybe God’s actually devouring the good souls and maybe hell was the better option, or maybe God’s dead and the angels are coming down to end the scourge of humanity.

Um. No. Not really. I didn’t go to heaven. Didn’t go to hell either. I’m not sure if either of those exist anymore.

I got the impression this wasn’t quite what I’d been told to expect when I heard a man speaking with a posh British accent.

“- Sure, she got to enjoy life to its fullest with her luxury vacations and fine food, but was it really worth it to lose it all at age twenty eight? All because she took a drunk nap behind the wheel of her car.”

A softer voice responded to his, feminine and barely above a mumble.

“I don’t understand why she’d made such a poor choice at all.”

The British man chuckled.

“Humanity is known for such things.”

I picked up the pace, heading right for the light until I came out in a theater box.

I’d never been in one in my life before but it didn’t take long at all to realize that’s exactly what it was, a theater box overlooking a lovely if not nearly bare stage and an uncountable amount of seats, the rows stretching back until they faded out of sight.

In the box with me was a petite young woman, probably only a year or two older than me, dressed in a scarlet gown with a tulle skirt and her brown hair neatly pinned up, sitting at a small table and looking down at the scene below. She was the first to look back at me, her eyes widening as she realized I was there. “Oh, I… what? You didn’t roll yet,” She said, brows knitting in concern before she grabbed the arm of the man next to her and tugged on the sleeve of his blue-gray tweed suit. “Irvin! Irvin, I think he’s lost!”

The man didn’t even twitch. “It’s just a mistake, sometimes they happen. He’ll leave when he figures out it’s not yet his turn.” Finally he turned, an older dapper looking gentleman with a white handlebar mustache and a pleasant expression. “Come on in, boy, she’s almost done with her roll.”

The woman bit her lip before scooting to the chair on the left and patting the one she’d vacated. “Here, take a seat, I guess. I’m Penny.”

I don’t know why I listened, it’s insane when you think about it, but I took my seat between the pair of strangers. It was then I realized I’d also been dressed up to the nines, in a black tuxedo that I remember once renting for a friend’s wedding. Said tuxedo had been puked on by a wasted bridesmaid so I’d had to purchase it, but the stains were nowhere to be found now.

Once I sat down, the older man gave me a firm handshake. “And I’m Irvin. Pleasure to meet you, Matthias.” I couldn’t even ask how he knew my name before I heard a strangely familiar rattling sound. Irvin just pointed towards the stage and I saw there was a woman standing next to the table, staring aghast at the dice on the table.

It was a trio of ten sided dice, d10’s if you play table top games like I do, colored bright red and glittering like rubies. I couldn’t have had a clearer view of them if I was standing right next to the woman who’d just rolled them. I flinched as a disinterested and disembodied voice filled the room.

“Final score- 434. Proceed to stage right.”

“Let me roll again! That’s not fair!” She snapped, actually stamping her foot on the ground as she tried to pick up the dice. They might as well have been glued to the table, she couldn’t make them budge an inch.

“Final score- 434. Proceed to stage right,” The voice repeated. With another stomp and huff, the woman stormed towards the proper direction.

At first I thought I was seeing things, but it was not my imagination that her long blonde curls were retreating back into her scalp, the color darkening to off brown. A flawless face with mauve lipstick morphed and changed until it was unremarkable, with a pair of crooked glasses sitting across the nose and acne scars stretching across cheeks and forehead. Glamorous party dress turned into khaki slacks and a clumsily buttoned pinstriped shirt, and now gone was the beautiful girl, replaced by a drab and completely forgettable man.

His shoulders slumped as he vanished behind the curtain, head bowed with shame as the life he’d had before was clearly gone for good.

Penny cleared her throat and looked over at Irvin. “From socialite to…” She trailed off, unsure of what to say next.

“From Brianna Pandilla to Noah Smith.”

Irvin chuckled and adjusted his glasses. “Noah won’t really do much in life. Unremarkable in school, will never go far in his career, although he won’t have much in ambition anyway. No, he won’t even marry, and will die in his sleep at age forty three from a brain aneurysm,” He said in a way that he’d seen this all before.

I was speechless. What do you even say to a sight like that?

Penny shook her head, clearly awestruck as I was but in a different way. “I don’t understand it either, but Irvin has such a talent, he can predict lives like no one else here,” She said.

“Oh, such flattery,” Irvin’s eyes twinkled in a grandfatherly way as he looked over at Penny, “But really, it’s a learned skill, not a talent. It’s not about the end score, it’s about the numbers that make it up along the way.”

I swallowed, finally remembering how to use my mouth again. “Was she… reincarnated?” I asked.

Irvin nodded. “It’s quite the sight, at least at first. Nowadays? It’s hardly interesting, unless someone rolls the chosen score of the day. Speaking of which, ‘tis my turn today for that, so why don’t you help me?” Judging by the fact he was looking right at me and not Penny, I didn’t doubt the question was aimed at me, so I nodded. “Good lad.”

Irvin produced a small slip of paper, from where he got it I have no idea. “Pick a number between one and three thousand,” He said.

“What?” I wasn’t even sure if I heard him correctly.

“Well, really it’s a number between zero and two thousand, nine hundred and ninety seven, but close enough,” He waved his hand. “Come on now, pick.”

I stared at the blank paper and decided to just go with what had to be a bizarre fever dream. “One thousand five hundred,” I said.

“Oooh, right in the middle, popular choice but popular can be good.” With elegant penmanship Irvin put 1,500 on the paper before letting it drop out of the box. I craned my neck over the edge to look where it went but it was long gone.

Penny tugged my sleeve now and pointed towards the stage. “Look, the next person’s coming through!” She whispered excitedly.

The theater quietly clapped as an elderly man crossed the stage, helped along by a cane. Once again Penny looked expectantly at Irvin, who adjusted his glasses and squinted before recognition flashed through his face. “Of course, John Davis, rolled a 1622. Lived quite the long, fulfilling life- marriage of sixty years, eight children, twenty-two grandchildren, and even got to see two great-great grandchildren be born. For a family man like John, that was very important to him. Of course there were some ups and downs, but he died happy, surrounded by his family,” He said.

I didn’t say anything, just watched John pick up the dice, give them a quick shake, and watched them land across the table.

Five. Six. Five.

Pleased with this, John took another roll.

Zero. Five. Two.

Clearly not as happy with that result, judging by his frown. I leaned over to Irvin and whispered, “Do they know what they’re rolling for?”

“If they don’t outright now, they have an inkling,” Irvin murmured, eyes watching excitedly the elderly soul downstairs frantically giving the dice another shake.

Two. Zero. One.

“Final score- 818. Proceed to stage right.”

John hesitated for only a brief moment before he hurried away, his receding hairline growing dark and filling out to a strong widow’s peak. His back straightened, shoulders broadened, and the cane dropped to the ground as the elderly man morphed into a near giant, built like a brick wall with a stern face and a wicked scar taking his left eye with it.

“Could’ve played out much worse,” Irvin said. Neither Penny or I needed to ask. “Losing his eye in war will send Michael Slattery into a horrid depression, but thanks to the army paying for college he’ll end up becoming an architect. He’ll marry twice, perhaps three times, whether or not those marriages will pay off I can’t say. Sometimes the dice can’t explain everything. But his life will be full and he will die at age seventy-two, cancer, probably of the lungs, since he’ll be addicting to vaping.”

Penny looked puzzled at the term ‘vaping’ but I just groaned. “What, that won’t disappear by the time he’s old?” I asked.

Irvin laughed, shaking his head. “You’re great fun to have around, Matthias, more fun than Penny,” The girl gasped, clearly offended, “But nothing is that easy. Come on now, have a drink, ask anything that’s on your mind. It’s pretty rare people actually get lost in the audience, and I would like to enjoy your company.”

I was about to ask ‘what drink’ when I noticed that a beer glass had materialized in front of me, filled to near brim with a healthy amount of foam on top. I took a sip and saw that Irvin and Penny also had drinks, Irvin a glass of wine while Penny sipped at a milkshake. “Have I been reincarnated before?” I asked.

“Predictable, but easy question to answer.” Irvin lowered his glass and held up three fingers. “This would be your third life, boy. And before you even think of asking, I’m not going to tell you your score for this one. That’s a spoiler, and I think you’ll like to experience life as fresh and unknown as possible.”

That wasn’t a hundred percent true, but I figured badgering Irvin about it wouldn’t get me anywhere. “What about my previous lives then?” Was my next question.

Irvin shifted, uncomfortable for only a second before he relaxed. “Well, I think your second life we can just skip over as it isn’t worth the breath to speak of, but as for life one, well, that was back in the colonial era.”

“So long ago?” I asked, absentmindedly noticing a nerdy sort of woman walking on stage and examining the dice now in front of her.

“It’s not exactly done in the order of whoever dies first,” Irvin chuckled, “But your first life was wonderful. Just wonderful. A full life, the respect of everyone who met you, a loving husband-”

“I was a woman?” I interrupted.

Irvin nodded. “Sex and gender is not a consistent thing between lifetimes, you witnessed that with Miss Pandilla. Nothing is consistent between lifetimes at all, really. It’s all down to the numbers you rolled. And before you interrupted me, I was going to state how you lived to the ripe old age of eighty-four, passing within moments of your husband. Old, especially for the era.”

“Final score- 1098. Proceed to stage right.”

I’d been so focused about hearing about my first life that I’d completely forgotten to watch the dice roll happening below. Irvin whistled, nodding in appreciation as the frumpy woman down below transformed into elegance and the very epitome of beauty, exchanging lifeless brown curls and khaki skirt for waist length shiny black hair and a glittering silver gown, like one you’d see actresses wear to the Oscars.

“A high score, impressive,” Irvin nodded and we didn’t even need to ask what her story would be. “Alice Atkins will be a household name by her nineteenth birthday, going from television sitcoms to blockbuster summer films in a matter of years. Her childhood would be happy, her young adult years slightly troubled by anorexia and bulimia, but she will conquer. She’ll marry twice, once to a man that barely lasts a week and then to a woman, who she will stay with until her death at the age of one hundred and two.”

Damn. I watched her disappear behind the curtains before looking back to Irvin. “So just getting a high score isn’t enough? You said she’ll have an eating disorder,” I said.

“One of her numbers was thirty-three,” Irvin explained, “And no one leads a perfect life, no matter how hard they try. Odds are if they do try, it’ll get even worse.”

“What if she doesn’t choose to be an actress?” Was my next question. “What if she wants to be a singer, or maybe she’ll want to become a mailman instead.”

Irvin chuckled, shaking his head and looking at me with this gentle ‘oh you silly thing’ expression. “We might not know the smaller strokes in her life, what her favorite color will be, what songs she’ll like, or when she’ll have her first kiss, but the dice are never wrong when it comes to deciding one’s general fate.”

Penny gasped, drawing my attention back to the stage. I heard her whisper, ‘He’s so little’ before I saw the next one up on the stage.

The boy couldn’t have been more than five years old, more likely he was even younger. He had to keep jumping up to snatch each of the small dice off the table, and in the end he chose to sit on the ground to give them a roll.

“Poor Bobby rolled a seventy-three last time,” Irvin said, looking mildly sympathetic as the boy rattled the dice together, “His neglectful parents never gave him the love he’d need to thrive, so when he was offered friendship by an elder, he desperately grasped for it. It cost him his life.”

My stomach twisted at the thought. Bobby finally hurled his dice, watching them as they rolled across the stage’s floor.

Nine. Nine. Nine.

The mostly silent room exploded into excited murmurs. Irvin scooted forward on his seat and Penny held her breath as Bobby scooped up the dice again and rolled them.

Four. Three. Three.

“Come on boy, sixty-eight, try and get sixty-eight,” Irvin murmured, his eyes so wide I was afraid they’d pop out of his head.

“What happens if he rolls that?” I asked.

“He’ll get the number you chose,” Penny said, as if that explained everything. I was about to ask for clarification when I was shushed by the pair of them. The whole room was tense as Bobby took a deep breath and rolled one last time.

Zero. Six. Nine.

“… Final score, 1501. Proceed to stage right,” The disembodied voice said, softer and slightly disappointed.

The audience all simultaneously groaned and Bobby’s face went white as a sheet, almost as if he knew he’d done something horribly wrong. Irvin groaned and sat back in his chair, his previous excitement deflated. “Damn. Just one over,” He said.

Bobby got up, already getting taller than the table he’d struggled to reach earlier. He grew much taller, turning into a young man. Red curls paled into gold, freckles vanished from his cheeks, and bright hazel eyes turned an icy blue. The new Bobby brushed off his slacks, made sure his fine suit was buttoned, and walked to the right side of the stage.

Before he vanished, he looked up at me and the hair on my neck stood right up as the man smirked. He exited the stage and I shivered.

“… What just happened?” I asked quietly.

“He rolled over the score,” Irvin took his glasses off to clean them on his shirt, “But only by a little. The pain he’ll cause will be horrible, but he will suffer for his sins in life.”

I swallowed the lump in my throat. “What- what will he do?” I asked. I could see Penny out of the corner of my eye, her lips pressed firmly together as she too awaited Irvin’s answer.

Irvin was quiet for a little more.

“… His victims will be no older than ten. The youngest will be seven. Due to his family’s wealth and status, he’ll be able to cover up his morbid nature, but as the bodies pile up, the suspicions will grow and grow… until one of the fathers personally tracks down the perverse bastard and kills him. Slowly. Painfully. Just like he did to those boys.”

I just froze. I heard Penny start to gag behind me and turned just in time to see her vomit all over the floor, chocolate milkshake splattering on the ground mixed with the yellow of stomach bile. My head just wouldn’t stop spinning and my vision swam for minutes before I finally managed to get control of myself.

“Why?” I managed to get out. “What did he do in his last life to make him turn into that?”

“Nothing.” Irvin picked up his wine glass, not drinking it, just swirling the deep red liquid in the glass. “Nothing at all. Each life is a clean slate, and for that, you certainly should be grateful. If you were living according to your second life, well, you wouldn’t be near as fortunate as you are.”

My heart sunk into my shoes.

“What did I do?” I finally asked the question that Irvin had purposely not answered before. “What did I roll?”

Irvin sighed. “On that day, I picked the number two thousand, three hundred and four. Random, I am well aware, but it’s difficult to roll that high. Meaning it’s even harder to roll above it. But you, my boy, rolled a two thousand, seven hundred and fifteen. Your sins outnumbered the ones the man you just saw, and you never paid for them. Not at all. The people that suffered by your hand were men and women, children and the elderly, and when I say they suffered, I truly mean they begged for the death you were hesitant to give. You never paid for these crimes. You died old, surrounded by loved ones, and with not a single guilty thought on your conscious.”

What are you supposed to do when you’re told that? I tell you what I did. I sat there, staring out at the crowd who’d already seemingly forgotten about the horrid person that was going to be born into the world, now focused on the next soul on the stage. Even Penny, who’d puked at the thought of it, had cleaned herself up and was now having a glass of ice water.

“Why is it like this?”

I shook my head.

“Why does it not matter? People like that kid- people like I was- shouldn’t it matter what we did before?”

At this point Irvin smiled almost condescendingly at me. Like I was a stupid child, asking why’s to questions that should’ve been obvious. And then he responded.

“What would be the fun in that?”

I leaped out of my chair once the horribleness of it all sunk in, looking to Penny for any sort of back up, any sort of criticism of this genuinely fucked system, but she couldn’t even look me in the eye. I backed away, back down the way I’d come.

Irvin raised his glass and waved goodbye.

“See you when it’s your time, boy. I’ll be sure to save you a seat if you roll the chosen score that day.”

I ran. I ran back into the darkness, tripping over my own feet as the light behind me faded away to a small dot, and then nothing.

And then I awoke in the hospital, screaming through the tubes and thrashing about as much as I could in the bed with all the casts on my body.

Believe me, I felt the pain from all that when the shock died down.

My parents were there, so was my girlfriend. My sister video called me the moment I was able to have a conversation that was more than two words at a time, calling me ‘stupid lucky’ for surviving. She wasn’t wrong, my car was completely destroyed. I shouldn’t have lived, much less lived with the likelihood I’ll be walking and living life to the fullest after several months of physical therapy.

The bereaved fiance of the woman that hit me came to visit me too and actually apologized to me about what happened. Her autopsy confirmed what he’d already known, she’d been drinking and driving once again. And because of her mistake, I could’ve died.

I wished him the best and told him not to blame himself.

The hardheaded two year old responded by throwing a block at my head, which I barely ducked as I ran into the bathroom. Parker had been a handful all day, he’d already bitten two of the other children and had kicked Tara in the shin when she managed to drag him away from a quarrel he’d been right in the middle of.

I bit back any swearing as I ran my finger under the tap. Jesus Christ, kids can really bite harder than you think, he’d managed to draw blood. After slapping a band aid on the bite and calling it a day, I headed back out to see that Parker was sulking in the corner and Tara was on the phone.

When she hung up, she turned and grimaced. “How bad did he get you?” She asked.

“Drew blood. Nothing a band aid can’t fix.” I nodded at the phone. “Who were you calling?”

“Parker’s mom.” Tara shook her head and I saw her fingers twitch toward her bag, she might’ve claimed to have kicked her smoking habit but after a rough day she would still vanish for a bit when it just got too much. “Honestly, Parker’s a little monster today and it’s getting to the point where I am not letting him near the other kids. After he took a piece of your skin he went back to hitting poor Brittany. I managed to calm her down with a juice box but… wow, this is not a good day for the lil guy.”

“Did his mom pick up?”

Tara shook her head. “Got sent to voicemail. Just keep an eye on Parker. I’ll manage the other rugrats, hey, at least it’s Friday?” She grinned and weaved over to the TV, loudly offering to put on Spongebob. That got the attention of about three quarters of the kids, the indifferent ones were too young to be enthralled by the cartoon or they were napping.

I saw Parker start to scoot out of his corner and I tutted my tongue. “Parker, ten more minutes in the corner, then we’re going to apologize to everyone you bit,” I said, pushing his chair back into the corner.

Parker glared and for a brief second I was nervous around the kid. Good thing too, because he lunged for me again. This time I managed to shove his ass back in the chair, maybe I was a little rough but this kid was going for my throat. “Stop it! What is up today, Parker?” Sure, he was a rambunctious kiddo, but no more than any other toddler. This was actually concerning.

Parker just turned and sat back down on his chair, crossing his arms and pouting. I sighed.

“Fine. Ten more minutes, buddy.”

Ten more minutes and before I could let him out of his corner his mom showed up. Rita looked as distracted as always, she was still chatting on her phone as she signed Parker out for the day. I tried talking to her about Parker’s behavior but she blew me off, saying, “He’s just going through a phase,” before going back to her conversation on the phone. Without so much as an apology or an explanation she grabbed her son by the shoulder and dragged him off.

That night I headed home, filled my bathtub, tossed in my most glittery bathbomb, lit some candles, turned on some music, and prepped for a night of relaxation. I deserved it.

About a half hour of soaking, I felt the bandaid I slipped on come loose and fall off. I sighed and stepped out of the tub, grabbing a towel to dry off.

I came to a dead halt when I saw my finger was turning black.

At first I thought it was a trick of the candle light, but flipping on the light confirmed my initial inspection- the bite mark had turned completely black, while veins running down my finger had began to darken. I wouldn’t have known anything was wrong otherwise, it hadn’t gone numb or anything. It was just black.

I grabbed my phone and dialed Tara’s number while I peeled off the scab, squeezing out the wound into the sink.

“I’m on a date, this better be good,” Tara grumbled when she picked up.

“Yeah, it’s good, Tara. Can you help me call the other parents of the kids that Parker bit? Because my wound is… kinda fucking gross…” I shivered as gray goop dripped into the sink, the same consistency of pus. “I’m probably going to the doctor in the morning, I think it’s an infection.”

“I mean, I’m not surprised. Kid’s mouths are actually the worst,” I could hear Tara shudder, “So many germs.”

I grimaced as more gray goop splashed off the faucet. “You’re telling me. I’ll call Brittany’s dad, you can call Logan’s? Just tell them to check the bites and see if they’re infected too. Then get back to your date, meanwhile I have a date with a needle as I lance this bitch.”

“Aaaand just like that, I’m going to be thinking about your gross pus all night. Thanks for killing the mood.”

“You’re welcome.”

I hung up. I wasn’t seriously going to lance the wound, squeezing it seemed to do the job well enough. It hurt like a bitch though. I gritted my teeth before I turned on the sink, rinsing the wound off and grabbing some Neosporin out of the cabinet.

A new bandaid later and I was right as rain. I checked my list of parent’s numbers and texted Brittany’s mother about the biting incident and to make sure that her daughter was all right before I headed to bed. I was drained, mentally and physically, from a rough day at work.

I rolled over the next morning to find seven missed calls from Tara and that the infection had spread, to put it lightly.

I screamed when I reached for my phone and saw that my right hand looked like I’d dipped it into black ink. If I wasn’t awake then, I was now as I shot up and grabbed onto my hand with my good one. I wiggled my fingers but it was like wiggling them through molasses, each movement sluggish and almost unresponsive. My entire hand was completely numb, no matter how much I poked it there was no response.

I picked up the phone and saw the missed calls, immediately calling Tara back.

“Oh my god, where were you?!” Tara screeched nearly loud enough to pop my eardrum.

“Sleeping! Like a normal person!” I raised my hand in front my eyes, still shocked about what I was seeing. “What happened-”

“Go to the fucking hospital, right now.” I could hear Tara flick her lighter. “I’m serious, how bad are you?”

I swallowed. “… Bad. Let’s just say it’s bad.”

“I… oh Jesus fucking Christ,” Tara’s voice cracked, “I… I had a bad feeling about Logan when I called his parents and they didn’t pick up. So Danny and I went to his house, just to make sure everything was okay, I mean, I live right on his block anyway… I knew it wasn’t when I saw that all the lights were on and it was already past eleven. His house is in bed by ten, at the latest. So I went up to the front door and knocked. I didn’t get an answer… so I walked in.”

My heart sank as I heard Tara start to cry. Tara never cried.

“Everyone was dead. Black goo was everywhere, and his dad was just laying in a puddle of that and blood. I saw Logan just sitting next to his toys and he didn’t look right, like… at all. I’m not fucking kidding, he looked like a corpse stacking toy blocks. He looked up at me and his eyes were just black. He grinned and his mouth was all bloody… I ran out of there screaming. I got into the car just before that little ankle biter launched himself at the window. It cracked and I screamed at Danny to just drive, drive as fucking as he could… I don’t know if we ran that little fucker over or not but I genuinely thought you might be dead.”

I already had thrown on a bathrobe and was walking out the door. “I’m going to the emergency room right now, Tara. What happened after that? Did you tell somebody?”

“No shit we told somebody!” Tara sobbed. “We… we’re at the police station still. Logan’s not the only family who has this happening to them. Brittany’s mom was found hiding in the bathroom as Brittany was clawing at the door and screaming like a wild animal. Brittany’s in the hospital right now and she’s unresponsive. Please, please just get help as fast as you can.”

I’m in the hospital now. I think they’re going to try to stop this from spreading further by taking my arm. The black’s crawled up past my elbow now, I swear it’s gained an inch every time I look to check. Across the hall from me is Parker, while his mom screams that he’s fine and that he’s just going through a phase. She claims she’s going to sue them all but I’m pretty sure she’ll be the one buried in lawsuits.

I managed to catch a glimpse of the little shit though.