I'm Being Hunted By a Werewolf

     It has been months since the fear mining device issue; that's a whole other thing to get into. However to lay the groundwork; there had been a gift sent to me that'd mine my fear, at first great and then turn sour. You see we think we know all of our fears, what we truly are scared of. However; deep down inside I didn't think I'd find the thing I truly fear. The other fears, popped from my head and felt painful sure but this one? It never left inside me. I've always had a desire, a joy from hurting others and that part of me I'd suppressed and thought, "oh this thing is just my imaginary friend" fast forward to adulthood, facing the fear resurface now that he crawls under my skin.

    Every part of me hating myself as I'd have to suppress my urge to slit my mother's throat or cut open my father for fun. My sister and brothers? I'd had many thoughts of hurting. Of course; before I left I had removed the device but not realizing how much fear I'd been pouring out. You'd think everything be fine but out in my little cabin, I've found wolf hair and I swear I can feel something watching me under the moonlight.

    I have a nearby neighbor named Henry that checks up on me and with him asking, "hey, have you seen any wolves around?"

    I question him, "no, why do you ask?" He points at the fur. I'd shrug, "not seen; never said they weren't around." A question leaves my lips, "I have a friend that had thought he'd seen, and I know this will sound silly but thinks he's seen a werewolf. Silly, I know."

    Henry laughs a little but stops laughing as he looks around with him opening up his phone, showing me pictures. He firmly speaks, "you're not crazy; I swear they're around. This one has been around since the town was found. However; you didn't hear anything from me." To this I shrug at considering the shapes are not able to be made out. This leaving me to question his mental state. Henry is a gun nut. However not like I'm much better; I love technology. At home I'd bounce between multiple online jobs with easily dealing with IT and tech support. You'd be surprised with my internet connection but considering how efficient and cheap I am; employers don't complain.

    That later in the day I find myself dazing off during work; considering how boring and slow things go. After some time past I'd fight off the sleepiness only to find myself waken by a call, quickly taking care of the issue and dealing with a stubborn idiot that doesn't know how to turn on his computer. After that I notice the time and feel my stomach rumble. I do find myself getting lonely; yes I know with my current... condition. However it's mostly under control. The nightmares don't seem to follow me; back in the city while under the influence of the machine person or nightmare I'd torn through them.

    Of course; a part of me thinks it's not just a nightmare; the smell of rust and liquid gushing on my face and body. That was all just a dream. Just a dream. Anyways; I'd drive into town to my favorite diner. Mary is such a sweet heart with her taking my orders.

    Mary mentions, "something got in and killed our chickens again." The people nearby I hear murmurs.

    One of the people, Dave I overhear, "no he was murdered by something with large claws. The thing slashed a part the man! It couldn't have been a grizzly bear!" A part of me can't help but laugh and smile a little; in my head, imagine a sharp painful spike stabbing through me, anything to suppress my bloodlust. A sour somber react plastered over my face. While I have my coffee I feel someone watching me; something watch me, then turn to see a man walking by. A person I'd not notice around here. It feels like he was watching me but couldn't be, could he? What I do find odd that catches my attention is scratch marks on the window.

    A part of me is filled with dread considering how often I'd sat in this booth. To be fair though; maybe the other nightmares found me? I probably should explain; not all nightmares born from your mind; magically go away once you unplug from the fear miner. As of why, I don't know; so I'd been running and not staying in the same town until now. Which doesn't feel like my choice to do so; if that makes sense or some part hadn't been mine.

    The time ticked away and every part of me filled with dread. At this point; I'd quickly take my leave and not know why. As I'm driving home I get a dreadful feeling crawling up my spine. Once I get home, my hunting gear at the ready; something to ease my nerves a little. The hunt calms my dread. As I'm hunting until the sun falls; he shows up. The beast on all fours approach, facing me down. My gun in hand; fire away at the creature only to piss it off; it stood on two hind legs and had two large arms with claws. The wolf-like head snarled at me.

    The beast leaps at me; the smell of wet dog and it's hot heavy breath beats down on me. Then; not long before seeing myself be a passenger in my own body. The bloodlust becomes overwhelming, to feel the beast slashing and hacking away at the werewolf. Our battle become a field of blood with both of our blood painted on the fields, the pain from my morphed body moving, twisting and yearning for death finally. On the other hand; I'm having the time of my life until I start to bleed out. The werewolf gaining the upper hand on me.

    The creature runs, running, using my body to run. After all this time it shows itself to me and for what? To be a coward, a failure? To be pathetic? I know what I'd display before but you could not understand having your urges made come true and come crashing down like a tidal wave. A high like a wave you cannot imagine riding like any other.

    That being said; by morning time come our wounds have healed. As of how or why; my guess is the nightmare form doesn't have any kind of long lasting damage it takes unless it dies. With this out of the way and now knowing it's real. I'd prepare better next time around; however with knowing my true self, the feelings I'd bury down underneath. The nightmare monster not wanting to come out to play. My overwhelming range with it; threatening to take our lives, pointing a gun at myself.

    I snarl, "no you're coming out to play; you are going to help me!" You might think I'm going to go around killing innocent people and to that; I wish to avoid but at that moment I'd been given no other choice considering what we were facing. The shouting match with myself, "we are going to die if you don't help me out here!"

    The thing responds back with deep burly laughter, "oh, how ironic; for so long you chose to keep me sealed deep inside yourself and now you want my help." His sharp smile, using my body. My imaginary friend; you might think it's silly I'd be egotistical to make my own image my imaginary friend but I hadn't had any meaningful friendships really growing up. Even into adulthood not many people I feel a strong connection to. So he was the easiest thing to pin blame for; my pain, failures, my everything.

    He taunts, "every time I'd tried to guide us in the right direction; you swatted us away."

    I sneer, "that was before!" A plead, "help me; we need to deal with him before he comes back in 30 days!"

    He grimaces, "it won't be 30 days; it's not a full moon a werewolf needs; just where they're the strongest."

    A scoff from my lips, "oh so you're going to give up because we lost one fight? Mr. Killdozer here, more than desiring going through bodies man or monster without a care!" His eye lids tighten, stare me down.

    He quips, "coward; for the longest time you've been hiding behind me for your failures and fear. Do not come at me with that bullshit; because I'm as much you as you are me, sadly." Every part of me wants to deny it but my bloodlust. My desire to hurt others, my failures, pain point of my life and even wanting to blame my genetics only to realize he is correct about me. A concern sound comes from me as I'm grabbing him, physically pulling him out of my head. He pleads, "wait! Wait! Stop before you do something we both regret! Come on! We can talk this out!" With every pull the memories come back to me and so do my tears.

    The pain of having ripped him from my head, forcing his body into mine. In the mirror I can see the claws; sharp teeth, my grin and the memories flood back to me. The overwhelming dread at first that turns to pleasure knowing the people in the surrounding woods I'd ripped a part. My wait as night time comes and he shows up with him howling outside my house. Of course meeting form to form. Our final showdown.

    The werewolf grins before me. He gestures for me to leave, as if after the display of what happen yesterday I'd just, "leave" after what he did to me. No, he showed disrespect and it's time for me to put him in his place. The werewolf charges me; I'd dodge to the left sending my right claw right through the body. The bite down from the wolf jaw onto my neck. I maybe smaller and more nimble but he's still quite quick for a giant. We trade blows, scratching at one another; clawing like animals and the huffing and puffing that comes from the wolf. That meanwhile I'd just laugh.

    The flaunting of my condition to him, "come on now; I was hoping to lose a bit more blood than last time." The look of tiredness from the werewolf's eyes to concern with it's ears down and turning tail on me. However; I'd grab it's tail, slowly breaking one rib after then grab for the heart; swallowing it one go. The head? I'd crush for the fun of it. Before morning time even hits I'd turn to my human form with taking my truck and whatever few belongings I care for and leave. You might be wondering if I'm going to become some mass serial killer but the truth is; I hope not, really hope not but on some level; I know that's a lie.

The Forgotten God Came for my Music then Became My Muse

     I know it sounds foolish; but I encountered it in a dream. The sounds that strum from the guitar, ever so beautiful. She had skin black as the void of space and in her you could see planets, stars, nebulas. She stops playing and touch my face, her milky white eyes bright like distant stars stare into mine. Her hand soft like silk to the touch, her breath cold and yet warm like space followed by a warm wave from the sun. The awestruck look on my face hard to conceal.

    Her ethereal voice calls to me, "you wish to be able to strum sounds as beautiful as this, don't you?"

    I nod, excitedly explain, "I love the guitar! Music is, well everything to me." He sighs, "too bad this is just a dream."

    She has a slight chuckle before she explains, "a dream where you reached me; our souls crossing paths. If you don't believe me; I'll give you a book, when you awake the book should be in your arms."

    I hadn't known why yet but had to ask, "why are you giving me this?" Her smile stretches across her face.

    She says in a motherly tone, "anyone who can cross the barrier to me; is worthy of my help for music." It was only a moment, she kissed my left cheek; waking up in cold sweat. Besides my music sheets and a pen; something is on my cheek, run over to the bathroom and notice the purple sparkle that shows the left behind mark of a lipstick mark. I go back into my bedroom and notice a black bound book with two quarter notes. That through the book notice details denoting how to make the guitar she had.

    The details being, "draw the stars above that you've seen in your soul. Then apply blood, sweat and tears; it cannot be yours." A marker nearby drawing the symbols. I do my usual routine; practice different songs, brush my teeth, shower and dig through what little I have in my fridge. The question swims in my mind, "how am I going to get the three?"  After meeting up with my bandmates; Millia our lead singer, and Thomas our drummer.

    We played our hearts out during practice. After practice we got ready for some smaller gigs. We played in a bar; everything was going good with us doing our usual routine until two gentlemen got heated in the bar. They walked away and cooled off from one another. After hearing about what the fight was about, something about the two seeing the same woman. I found this to be a good opportunity to make my move while our singer deals with the, aunt flow problem downstairs. The sliding and weaseling my way to the hot head who tried to start the fight, I sit down next to him.

    The hot head says, "your song was shit; though your lady friend up there. Is she single?"

    I tell him, "she has a boyfriend; Drake, big muscular guy." He slowly nods. Then inform him, "you know; the guy over there was talking about how he was going to fuck your girl again. Emily, was it?" He got up from the barstool; towering over me, patting my shoulder and walked over to the guy; punching him in the face, beating on him. On one hand I feel bad for them; on the other hand, two cheaters beating each other makes me feel less bad. After they're both thrown out I wipe up some of the blood, placing it my pocket for the paper towel. We finish up the gig and later we leave in a white van.

    Millia happily chirps, "that was great! I can tell the crowd really loved it!" One part of me wanted to ruin the fun for her; but the other part of me didn't have the heart to do so. Once I'm dropped off at home, I get to work with preparing the first part of the ritual with smearing blood over my guitar and saying the chant. They're not even words; just symbols and yet somehow my mind can understand them but the words come out gibberish to me. I can't even remember the words I've said or spoken. Just a minor panic attack and state of insanity. However once I finish the guitar becomes purely black, black as space itself. The strum of the strings and I can feel the beautiful empty vast expanse that feels like something on the other side grabbing hold; it's strange to look back on this feeling but the mental equivalent to a bridge, a shared experience, empathy in a sense. A comforting feeling that holds me and never wants to let go.

    Had I known what my actions would cause, I never would've started but once this far; I chose to keep going. It may sound foolish but I'm a lonely person and this filled me with a sense of comfort and purpose I've never felt before. After making dinner then practicing on my guitar until I drift off to sleep to come to in the dream world, to see her again playing away but this time bit faded and smaller. With concern in my voice, "what's happening?"

    She sighs, "I'm afraid I only have two more days left; two more days until our connection fades. Universes and plants moving too far a part. I'm lucky it's going to last this long. I must confess; you're not the first nor last soul I've connected with." A part of me filled with dread at this thought, the thought of never being able to hear or see the fruits of my labor with the guitar let alone her.

    She holds me in close; she says in a motherly tone, "good job so far; I'm proud of what you were able to do so far."

    I sigh, "I don't know how I'm going to get the tears; the sweat should be the easiest."

    She gestures at a portal showing Millia to say, "you could show her something that makes her hurt; something that makes her sad."

    I feel uneasy to say, "you couldn't mean."

    She answers, "Millia's dad is in the hospital. You could get her to cry."

    An uneasiness in my voice, "that's my friend; I just can't."

    She kissed me and I felt as if everything that or is unholy doesn't matter; that the sway she had over me. The loneliness, the hurt, all of my pain didn't matter. Every moment with her was just another moment I was put on strings, the stars from her body puppeteering me to her whim, I was none the wiser when with her though.

    I assure her, "I'll do it." After that we talked about our favorite bands, she speaks of her favorite bands from earth and realize our music taste are quite similar. To have someone that close feel that genuine like you could tell the world everything. Though she was much more reserved in telling me of her place, where she came from. If anything; she kept me mostly doing the talking until I had to wake up. The usual routine of trying to get to practice, this time however she didn't show up. I hear a voice, telling me where to go; I look down to see my black guitar showing me where she is. 

    Thomas, he looked at me strangely as I tried to hide my guitar. He saw what was on it; my heart sank until he commented, "why did you paint it black? Like a deep black." A sigh of relief washed over me as I showed it off with me strumming, his eyes couldn't leave my instrument. He seemed to be in a trance and as if a bit of his soul left his body. At that point; I had stopped playing. Then feeling a pain shoot through my head from stopping like I'd been hit upside the head. That I had ignored this feeling with trying to snap Thomas out of his trance.

    I shout, "Thomas!" He snaps from his daze, then I question him, "where is Millia?" He shrugs. Then I left, heading to where the guitar is showing me. A sigh wash over me, "look; whatever you were doing to him, I can feel it. Alright? So just... not him, anyone but him. Though; maybe I'm just being paranoid." Getting there by foot while traveling to the hospital. The shady part of town taking a shortcut; though not of my own doing, anything that'd been my fault is dragged along more than anything. As the sun comes down and my path towards the place comes center stage with me being able to see it not too far from where I am. A big burly black man with a knife points it at my face and his buddy at his side, a scrawny skinny pale pasty guy that looks strung out on every substance known to man.

    The black man backs, "you, give me your wallet and him the guitar! Now!" At this moment frozen, until the muse came through. A weaponized sound as the angelic shredding of the guitar played, defying the fact it's not even plugged into an amp but as if it was with the sound shooting out of my guitar, from the deep black abyss itself. The two look as if they're under my spell and every step, every move to feel them in my hands. At first it was calm, just me playing away until the two started to brawl, going for one another's eyes and the bloody mess it was making. These two now at one another's throat and enthralled by rage. The blood curdling screams and war cries fly out with them battling it out as the music keeps going until they're no more.

    On some level, this music had been played before and I hadn't known where until my thoughts come crawling out; they were unfinished pieces of music I'd been working on. The mundane and broken made ethereal. This left dread in my soul on one hand, weaponized my failed creations but on the other; making beauty unlike anything I've ever seen, a symbiotic relationship between a man and his goddess. I can't hear, I can feel her voice echo across the guitar.

    She speaks, "now that you know my intent; you know where this is going, do you dare continue forth? I'm sorry for having deceived you." All of you reading this may hate me for what I'd chosen but we continued, she means everything to me. We barely know one another true but in due time it's a worthwhile bond. You may say she is using me and to that one must ask, "so what?" At least it's a relationship where I'm getting something out of it. Now steadfast instead of working against her, every step feeling within my control. The strings of space fade from my wrist with a brisk walk to a run with full on sprinting up to the receptionist. 

    I plead, "may I know where Mr. Star is? I'm family."

    She asks, "can I see some ID? Mr. Star didn't say he had any other visitors coming." So I'd started playing the guitar, sure enough she let me pass.

    The receptionist says, "Room 406; you can't miss it." A simple nod to her; then briskly get there. Millia outside the room, trying to keep a brave face. Millia looked shocked to see me at first then confused and finally landed on happy with her wrapping both arms around me.

    Millia softly speaks, "I am so glad you're here! I need someone just right now. I know, I hadn't shown up to the scheduled practice today but my uncle is dying and... I'm just going through a lot right now." She snarls, "Drake didn't show up! He never fucking shows up when I need him!" In that moment comforting her, some part of me is filled with dread at the next part I'm about to do. Nearby some tissues to steal.

    My voice is soft and firm, "here; let me play you a little something." She is finding this odd but goes along with it. The somber mellow tones that are dreary, pulling on her heart and even causing me to choke a little with each pluck of the string; it's hard to describe but feels like someone is behind me, helping guide my hand on each cord to play and slowly see her turn from enjoying the music to a bitter sadness. She starts to ball her eyes out. I can't help but wrap my arms around her.

    Millia crying, "it's my fault; I should've spent more time with him, why did I have to be so selfish?" Knowing her, this hurts to hear from someone who gives those around her the time if need be. Quite the opposite of selfish. While this is going on, well no use in letting the opportunity go to waste. As the book is in hand which I swear I don't remember bringing with me, regardless the reading of the words on the page and leaving the book to feel my guitar become hot then cold with the two mixing together; feeling the mismatch of heat dancing along side one another.

    This left me with enough guilt to stay with her until she hadn't needed my comfort anymore. We parted ways until she ran from behind.

    She asked, "don't you have someone to pick you up?" To that shaking my head. She drags me to her car. She offers, "it's the least I could do; offer you a ride and all." Every part of me feeling bad for taking advantage of her as the ride goes along. Once we reach my place, a hug is given. Now all that was needed is sweat. A friendly wave goodbye, then step inside my apartment building to my room. An eviction notice put on my door. This left me a heavy heart until my feet started to move on my own towards where the land lord was. The strings being strum just within distance for him to hear; to see the blank look on his face filled me with joy until he started hurting himself and looked as if he'd be driven insane with acting as a mad man and ran.

    My question, "My queen, why did you do that?" Every part of me, never meant to say those first two words. The influence, the effect. Some part of me wanted to blame it but some part of me knows it hadn't been.

    She responds in kind, "he was a threat to my greatness; no, to our greatness. Don't you want to spread the music? it's influence, it's beauty." To that, no argument from me. If there was a choice in the matter, well I'd damned myself anyways and being this deep, violating the most private and sacred spaces of the mind. To go further into detail, it's not that these are speculated thoughts because details are left out on my end whether intended or not but rummaging around the souls around me with my music. The memories dragged out by my effort. What did nerds call them again? Oh yeah, a warlock and a bard or something. At first; blind to these facts but the further in the ritual I've gone, the less I can act blind to them.

    Every step forward is less of a reason to excuse my actions, isn't it? Regardless not like you could ever know what I'm feeling, until you've had the furthest depths of your soul tugged and pulled you couldn't know. Regardless, back to my room for sleep and see her. The flicker of her, the image that goes by like a film that's skipping frames, a flickering monitor and her angelic voice flicker with it. The tethering bridge on my soul feeling stronger; her emotions feel stronger. Our conversation delayed, answers not as solid  with having her body shrunken down even further. Her influence over me, starting to shrink.

    That waking up for the final day to get her connected to my world, heading down to practice as soon as possible; skipping the hygiene to approach Thomas and Millia.

    Thomas comments, "man; you look like you barely got any sleep. Are you okay?" A quick nod on my end, then Millia put her hand on my shoulder.

    Millia asks, "is there anything you wanna talk about?" Me shaking my head. Then my hands strum the strings; the two struggling to work against the music.

    The pleads, "please forgive me, please forgive me." These two start doing jumping jacks, running in place and doing push ups. They look as if they're ready to throw up, the sweat building up but none of it truly being enough, needing more from them. We go jobbing around the block, eventually getting enough sweat. Now having revealed what my guitar can do, they try to stop me as the book is one hand and the guitar in the other with dodging them as they try to grab me. The instrument growing a galaxy across it, the beautiful sounds to be heard as the living space is on display from the tuning pegs to the bottom. The rage built inside myself, "these two trying to stop me of all people?" So a quick strum of the strings, they're in line. My queen, now having a stable bridge and every note I've played brings her closer to me.

    My new puppets, now lead to practice with us practicing until enough is enough. Them being exhausted but I'm just fired up. Thomas having his phone buzzing mid session.

    Thomas picks it up, "yeah mom? No sorry mom I'm just... at practice right now. Still? Yeah I'm still at practice, I understand mom but this important to me. Just for today? Okay, I love you too; goodbye." Mike hangs up, to act as if no control was being done my goddess's part would be foolish of me to say. We had to keep the practice going after all.

    Millia reminds me, "we have that gig at the club; remember?" To that, I do remember. So with me sitting in the back we get to the club. This isn't a small club; Millia new a guy that new a guy and sure enough; we got in. You might be wondering why I'd let us get to the club and not wait after doing more practice. Quite simple, my queen was ready for her grand entrance.

    The crowd waiting as we got ready; this being it, our moment to shine. As we played, the ethereal black ooze starts to form from my guitar; however, it stops and some part of me dies inside until I've realized the music still is divine, that same angelic sound still there just that my queen stopped stepping through the doorway. I'm thankful her voice is felt and not heard, otherwise the crowd would be screaming. She said, "not yet." At the end of the song we got an applause along with a man in a well dressed suit coming up to us.

    His deep booming voice said, "you know; there's a place that'd love to you have play. Have you heard of the King's Club?" My ears ring at that name and happily nod. The other two, not so happy. He continues, "they could use a band right now considering the other band cancelled last second." At this request with happy nods. We quickly load up and follow him.

    Thomas having seen what was coming out of my guitar pleads, "don't do this James. This... this isn't you!" This used to not be me, he wasn't wrong about that part but now? This is me. A quick strum of the strings, he slaps himself. He shuts himself up and the two are nothing more than puppets now. They never understood, I've needed my queen, my muse my entire life and I hadn't realized that until now. A missing puzzle piece now filled even if it's the wrong color but the right shape. We reach the fancy club, let in and for the set up with Millia and Thomas looking as if they're ready to cry and scream for help but can't now. With each strum of the string as we start, the two act on my command. The crowd being wowed, emotionally moved and finally feeling each and every crowd member react to my music. To her influence, she starts to have black tendrils form that turn to a starry night sky for each tendril is wrapped with as she grabs people, twisting and turn them to her whim.

    In person, nothing could rival her beauty nor her playing as she had a bass in hand. The crowd fell to their knees, worshipping her as she played. I'll make sure; our music and it's influence spreads far and wide.

I Work at a Gas Station, Strange Rules I Had to Follow

    I had gotten out of prison and had trouble finding work in Ohio, to get pass what I went to prison for. My wife was cheating on me; in the moment I killed her lover and then her. I had been lucky enough to get voluntary manslaughter and no I hadn't planned on killing them. When his dark skin was in my hands, after seeing red had I realized what I've done. To this day I regret killing them. So you can imagine, people knowing what I had done didn't exactly put me in good standing with most employers.

    My luck turn around after finding a job for a gas station; one that pays well. Too well and no one else trying to apply for the job felt strange. When asked to show up for the night shift and work right away, I had found it strange but shrugged it off. I was hungry, cold and he had bought me lunch so I didn't want to look a gift horse in the mouth. During the day; I had trouble sleeping. So much has changed with me being in prison; sure only in there for six years I had been lucky at the end of the day.

    Anyways; night time rolls around and I found myself left with a list of rules. Rule 1; feed Hank the Hawk; there should be fish in the fridge, if no fish then there should be some mice for him in the fridge behind the counter, remember to keep track if were running low or not.


    I was confused at first; thinking nothing of it until I saw him, the biggest hawk I've ever seen in my life, had to be at least three feet, I've never seen hawk this big. Hank made a series of high-pitched "kee-aw" and flapped his wings. I couldn't help but laugh and start feeding him; feeding him salmon and he ate it up like he was starving.

    At the back of the gas station pounding can be heard, "wham! Bam! Wham, bam! Slam!" The sounds echoed through the store. So looking at the list; sure enough I had seen rule 2, "make sure the locks are on and if a lock is broken or fallen off, please apply another lock from the back room. Oh and please do ignore any screaming you may hear." To the door on the backside I find it's tightly locked, everything on and all that. These strange symbols on the door. The paper had what looked like Japanese symbols on them. Which I had found strange. Other part I had found strange was the fact no banging was on the door before. Besides that, the blood on the floor and the smell of rust was my only concern. Look; I went to prison, I've seen stuff in there and learn the hard way; snitches get stiches. I don't ask, I don't tell. Oh and ratting to the guards?

    Even the guards ratting to them only gets you a beating from them, making them do their actual fucking job. Sorry, point is; I've had my snitching beaten out of me. To put this in a way you could understand; I had been given twenty four broken ribs, two broken legs and two broken arms. Oh and of course I'd been stabbed multiple times. Not in the same day mind you but throughout my time in prison. You might be wondering why I'm telling you this then? Well for what's it's worth I asked my employer if I could post my experiences here and sure enough I was given the go ahead; so long I didn't tell people where I worked. Which I obliged.

    Anyways; rule three, mop up the blood and once the gallons of blood are mopped, the screaming should stop. Which it did after I mopped everything up. While I was mopping this up, I hadn't noticed the strange man from across the road watching me which I hadn't mind if I'm quite honest since my first thought was, "fuck I had to clean this up. Shit what if he tells the police? Am I going to have to kill someone?" Sure enough, foolishly I had not looked at rule four. Rule four which stated, "if you see a man watching you; lock the doors and do not look at him in the eye. At the time; confused me as of why the doors aren't always locked until I took a glimpse at rule five. At the given time; running towards the door until a blink of an eye the man appeared in the store; quite literally I blinked and each time I did he was teleporting around the store, mind you; he still moves around like it's nothing. We luckily never made eye contact but something I hadn't noticed before; his head is fake, a mannequin head on a fleshy body. While he shops I'm looking at the list.

    Rule four adding, "if you didn't lock the gas station in time; don't worry, just don't look at him in the eye and don't speak to him. Give him what he came for and what he wants. Whatever he's going to pay you with; take it." As he looked around the gas station I realize he's coming my way, quickly look down and away. He approaches the counter.

    His hands bathed in the moonlight were a rich dark skin tone. He almost reminded me of my ex's lover. The hands tough, built like he did physical intensive labor. A paper sided on the counter towards me. The paper reads, "good afternoon sir; I'd like your finest pack of cigarettes on the top right." Then towards the bottom says, "please; unlock the red doors in the back" at that request I ignore. Again, prison rules; don't get yourself involved if you don't need too. The pack of cigarettes passed to him on the counter; his hands feel them and sure enough, he drops some human teeth on the counter for me. I put them in the cash register and notice his hands don't match the rest of his skin tone being white pale body. This detail I ignore as I watch him from the counter to see him wait for me with him eventually realizing I'm not coming; so he place the pack of cigs on the ground and slide them under the door along with a box of matches. He goes to leave out the front door until someone pulls up in a white van. The headless man waits until the customer steps inside and goes towards the counter. The man notices the headless man.

    In an amazed tone he says, "nice costume du-" as soon as he looked the head dead in the eye or where the eyes would be, you hear a wet, "splat!" Sound and the head starts screaming again, banging on the door happens again. The head now taken off the body with it being replaced with the fake head and taking the real thing onto his person.

    The monster speaks, "aw, much better." He turns to me with my head still down but I still see the pool of blood. I can feel the smile as the monster calmly assures me, "the longer you wait to take those seals off the door for me; the harsher the death will be from me. The omamori will fail sooner or later and when they do; I'll make sure to have your death be a nice and slow one; rest assured my friend." Then like that in a blink of an eye he leaves. On my part quickly locking the door with me panic calling my boss.

    My boss groans over the phone, "let me guess; first night it happened? Well fuck what were the odds. Hang on, I'll be there. Just hang tight." It didn't take long for my boss to get to here and help deal with the body. He kept the van nearby, taking the license plate off.

    I explained, "he got in before I could lock the door! I was going too!"

    My boss sighs, "he must be getting faster and stronger; it's alright just avoid it if you can."

    I pry a bit with curiosity in my tone, "does this happen often?"

    My boss thinks for a moment, "before? No, recently? Yes. Anyways; I'm heading back, please try to keep anyone else from dying; oh and we have more locks and talisman in the back."

    Quick to question, "why don't we put them on the front of the building as well?"

    My boss explains, "first off don't be asking questions you don't want the answer two and second; remember the rules from prison, they'll help you out here and third if you really must know. We have a deal with the pigs, this place keeps him coming back again and again; last time I put seals on the front of the door, some real bad stuff started happening to the nearby towns. Trust me, the longer we keep him hear, the better." I go to ask one more question but stop myself. Instead I start searching for info online, anything to help me. Okay I learn not to snitch and not to put my nose where it doesn't belong but even in prison we had gossip and rumors still.

    From what I could find for a headless and handless man in Ohio was a rich man named Edward Fisher who went insane and became a cult leader trying to summon demons and killed quite a few people, he ended up being killed with his head being taken off along with his hands. However, supposedly his head lived on and so did his hands as if he couldn't die; as if something kept him alive. In my mind it had to be a phylactery; yes I'm a nerd, shut up.

    A part of me is glad to know this isn't some kind of innocent man turned into a monster. On some level, I'd wanted to help him and potentially avoid death. Look; when the toughest guy in the room wants to kick your ass; you roll over or make sure you got a shiv big enough to deal with him; fighting should be the last thing on the table. However, considering if I did help him I'd likely be cut up anyways I'd rather not help him.

    The door opens and I look up from my phone to see an obese man with a trucker hat on, the hair curly ginger hair and in a white tank top with sun burnt left arm. He's missing a left eye and his right is a calm light blue. The man smells of fast food, piss and beer; quickly I look to see rule five. Rule five, "make sure the door is unlocked and if it's not; he's going to bust in and beat you like a piñata. He looks like an overweight ginger truck driver. Please don't call the cops, they know better than to show up when he's here. Hurry up and run out to the truck and fuel it up and surprisingly yes, he'll leave money on the counter. Do not talk to him, you can wave, nod, etc. just not speak to him.

    I do just that; run out to the truck that's sitting out there and fuel it up. I can see from the pumps that he puts exactly the correct amount of money down on the table. This goes swimmingly until I make one mistake. He sneezed. I casually say, "bless you." Then at that moment my body taken off the ground like it was nothing and tied to the front of his truck. You'd think for a truck driver he doesn't go fast but oh he goes fast, the truck going over a hundred miles an hour with the cold wind slapping my face, the bugs hitting my face and every part of me wanting to die as my limbs are stretched to their limit.

    At morning time I somehow survived and find myself in the middle of nowhere; I knew which way to walk back and the hours upon hours of walking back until my boss picks me up on his way. He slowly shakes his head as I get into the car.

    My boss casually asks, "you ignored rule five didn't you?"

    I protest, "look he sneezed and I said bless you! Okay!" Every joint in my body hurt and every part of me wanted to die at that moment. However I carry on.

    My boss scoffs, "yeah; "sneezed" to trip you up; spirits can't sneeze, I think, anyway just don't do that again. The fact he didn't kill you is a good sign, then again no other cars on the road probably is why you survived, probably need to add that to the rule book then." He shrugs. With a yawn, "anyways; well deal with that issue when we get to that road."

    So sure enough, I stayed. What? After everything you'd think I'd leave? Good pay, "under the table pay" I'm left to my own devices with having to do little to no work? Get to watch a trucker and that monster brawl near the gas station pumps every once in a while? I mean fuck why wouldn't I stay? Sure that monster is slowly getting to be a bigger pain in my ass over time with him moving faster and quicker with teleportation but what can I say, I still enjoy the job. Hank the Hawk enjoys my company and helps pick at the fingers that try to escape past the door. The fingers are quite long for the body I got to say. Anyways wish me luck on this career path. Is this the smartest career choice? Probably not if I'm honest but hey it's going to be fun while it last.

    Oh and the truck driver? I may not be able to speak to him but we write notes to each other, I ask a question; the next night he comes in with an answer written down. However one question I wish I hadn't gotten the answer to, "what happen to you?" After I wrote that down and handed it to him; in an instant I'd been transported into the seat next to him, trucks crashing on the highway and sure enough him slamming into an oil tanker; it wouldn't be so bad had he not been smoking while driving and another truck from behind slamming into him, sending his truck into the other. I didn't just see it, I felt every agonizing second and I was screaming by morning time by the time I snapped out of it. At that point; I learn that some questions, are better left un answered. You want to know the worse part? The other drivers perspectives I had to live through each ones death; only then did I realize when looking at his truck the other night, it's made of three different truck parts.

    As for the cult leader monster? He started a cult, again; the trucker is helpful in dealing with his people. Surprisingly, not just killing people now because someone started to worship him once they found out about him and considering his sway, he is quite charismatic when he's not threatening to kill you. His preaching and messaging is quite enthralling and I could easily see my younger self falling for his rhetoric.

My Next Deal as a Contract Demon

     It's no secret we make deals with souls that are damned to the underworld, what you think we take over bodies of those going to heaven or the ones who are holy? Generally speaking if we took over the body of your wife, child, etc. They're a cheat, a liar or something much worse. Besides those basic ground rules I should perhaps go over my profession; I'm a contract devil, not direct harm but only what's allowed within the rules of the contract.

    So yes you need to be specific in your terms and agreement. Why am I bringing this up and showing people this? Well for one I'm bored and two make it more of a challenge; don't get me wrong, all the lawyers that are going to hell I've had those slippery bastards escape my grasp before and sure as hell are fun to play with when I get a worthy lawyer to verbal spar with or rewrite the contract again.

    Now as of why do I need the soul if you're already going to hell? Well a demon or devil has to fight for the souls they want; a succubus or incubus needs to seduce those to hell with cheating, a contract devil needs to get someone to make a lawful evil deal, etc. You get the picture. Whether by direct or indirect influence. Now whether or not heaven has angels come down to kick your ass is another story.

    I'm here to share my most recent success; though I will be stealing the story of the man and the wife this will still be an interesting tale. Any of his spelling or grammar mistakes I hadn't bothered to fix.

    I can't believe she fucking lied to me; I know this may sound strange so I should back up a bit. My wife in her late 20s lied to me; you might be wondering how I found out, the dementia kicking in young and rapidly. The round the clock care I did for her and when having her wait in the bedroom, she called out a different guy's name. She called out, "Jerome honey, come on out please; I need you deep inside of me before my pathetic excuse of a husband comes back." I froze right then and there; Jerome is my 6'5 black friend. She panic when I came out of the bathroom with her trying to play it off like it was a joke.

    I sternly ask her, "how long have you been sleeping with him?" She freezes for a moment before giving in.

    She sighs, "since college." My heart shatters, I say nothing as I pack some clothes and leave. She pleads, begs and wants me to stay and tries to bring me to the bedroom. I push her away; our child looks on over to see mommy and daddy fighting with my wife crying for me to stay. Sure enough I take my leave. The nearest bar I speed towards and start drinking my troubles away.

    Other narrator here; yes this where I stepped in for a little salesman time. The time froze around the bar and back to him.

    This well dressed man who looked like a lawyer with beautiful sapphire eyes, long lush hair, a trimmed beard and a strong jawline. The kind of guy you'd expect to be a super model and not a lawyer. He sits down next to me. He asked, "what troubles you sir?" Before I could answer he says, "let me guess; wife troubles? I nod. I explained to him what happened and he sympathetically nodded. He cut straight to the point, "I'm a contract devil; and look, I know it's hard to believe me." At that point I got up from the bar stool not wanting to hear anymore of his shit. That was until he snapped his fingers, with the two of us in a movie theater with no doors and the only light source coming from the large screen.

    He explains, "this has been you most of your life." He shows the actions I've done, taking care of the dishes, the kids, having to deal with her having "headaches" but only enough time for bedroom time for having our kids; which at this point, I doubt are even mine. While I slaved away welding pipes for a living she was busy getting her back blown out. The rage, the tears; everything that built up in me when the lawyer devil showed my wife getting her back blown out by my friend. That or the first time she got dementia and she tried poisoning me with us two fighting, now looking back on it I understand why she was crying and screaming like a lunatic. She meant to break things off until her current condition came underway.

    The lawyer explains, "do you really want this to be the rest of your life?"

    He lamented to me, "I still want to go to heaven."

    Narrator's note here; I knew if I told him he was already hell bound this guy would've done something stupid without my involvement. As of why I didn't go after his friend Jerome? That guy was hell bound before under a different demon considering he cheated on his wife; his soul belongs to a succubus that he had a fling with.

    The lawyer demon explained, "do you really think your wife is going to have the best care in mind for your daughter? Jerome is just going to sexually abuse your daughter."

    Narrator's note again; I didn't lie; Jerome was going to sexually abuse his daughter, well not Evan's daughter but rather Jerome was going to exploit his flesh and blood. I have the ability to know what someone wants or desires.

    At that moment I knew somewhere in the back of my mind, this man was right; sure enough I signed the deal, my soul be damned. I'd rather go to hell than be in heaven while my daughter is abused. The contract before me with me signing the deal; sure enough I stay around and drink. While I do that, I get to writing this. I know I'm going to hell but it's for a good cause.

    Narrator's note; this is where I take over for the rest of the story and he mostly wrote drunken rambles, blah, blah; my feelings about my wife fucking so many other men besides me and being a cheating whore; what else is new. Now for the juicy part.

    I appeared in the house next to her sobbing, she looked to me and knew who I was. I went over my whole thing; sure enough didn't take much convincing that I was a contract devil. With me I explained, "now this is your perspective of what would happen if the relationship keeps going on." She sobs, crying and bemoaning her husband, beaten and bruised. To be mistreated and left to be lonely, unwanted and undesired with her having to tip toe around her husband to sleep with other men. This woman truly disgust me this is how she views herself and every second I wait to deal with her the better.

    I love the most vile souls; I know other demons like souls that went from good to bad but to me; the most vile scum are my favorite play things. This one will be a fine collection to my jar. She looks about ready to cry and sure enough; she does. She signs the contract. Unable to help but laugh like a madman as I say, "oh don't worry I'll kill your husband for you but first; I promised to deal with you." My sharp claws dug into her stomach, her screams filled me with joy.

    A woman that's so selfish, so self centered; so narcissistic just fills me with joy. Your perhaps wondering how or what makes her husband hell bounded besides our deal. To simply put; he cheated on her with other women, although this was while not getting action in the relationship from her, still but shit people but her soul more like a tar, spiritually like a tar to the touch. While her husband, well tried to do anything but go for cheating first. Honestly he was on the edge of being worthy of going to hell and probably would've ended up in limbo had he not taken my deal is the sad part.

    At that point; a soul worthy of limbo isn't worth my time, that's heaven and hell's territory sure but that'd take a couple thousand years to get sorted out in court and you know how well that goes. Ugh, that reminds me I have to represent a demon in about two hundred years.

    My apologies for getting distracted but I'm a better lawyer than narrator, I promise. Before anyone says a thing; no I didn't lie, I told her the truth; your perspective, from her perspective she was genuinely delusional enough to think she was getting mistreated.

    Now, which of you would like to make a deal with me?

Mining Fear as a Cryptocurrency

     The wet squishy carpet, "squish!" and "splat!" With each step; the blood and other fluids fill the carpet, the air smells stale; an ever looming dread fills the air, like a pressure you can't feel and considering how long I've been at this job for with all the crime scenes I've seen, I have never felt this. I've seen  serial killers hang bodies with their guts spread across the room like decorations. I've seen fathers go mad and slaughter their whole family, sitting them on the couch as if it was a normal family photo. Yet; this feeling presses me with something so mild, so tame. My partner shakes me from my stupor as he reveals the hard drive in hand along with a letter, "Fear Miner; my good friend I hope this gift of mine finds it suit you well. Only those brave enough should keep hold of this. Remember; great fear, great treasures." We take it with us along with the computer. As soon we leave the apartment that crushing feeling dies, turn to see out of the corner of my eye a multi-eyed creature looking at me, rubbing my eyes to notice the thing vanish. That back at the lab they're stunned with finding that the "computer" doesn't have any electrical parts; a dead box, only part that truly works is the USB port.

    We both look to each other; with me dumb founded by this with my buddy just shrugging this off. I gawk, "aren't you wondering just a little why this is the case?" He shrugs.

    He casually says, "look I'm not paid to question things; even then technology always advancing you know; for all we know, something new came out we couldn't fathom." I slowly shake my head just not caring at this point and just drop it. He takes a copy, plugging it into a computer and again that same spiritual pressure presses down on us. We look to each other; as if we both felt it. As the computer screen boots up, he notices the computer displaying banking info. He yawns, "oh, look at that; they got my banking info, huh."

    I protest, "that can't be; I mean there would be no way."

    He rolls his eyes, "look I've been hacked; somehow and I checked it this morning, that is the correct amount in my bank account. Just accept it; I've been hacked." Henry the meat head of the tech department towers over Michael. Michael gets startled and some money gets added to his account, 30 cents added. We all notice this.

    I remark, "did that just." Michael having dollar signs on his eyes just looking at it.

    Michael chuckles, "you sure did." Henry snags it with Michael protesting.

    Henry tells them, "look; I need to look over the data still, we don't know if it's dangerous. Hell, you weren't even supposed to have this Michael." He glares at Michael as he takes it back. We take our leave with getting a call to the next place. With me driving, of course; we get there in record time to find a man sat his balcony looking outward screaming like a banshee as he throws stuff at us; even dropping a fridge down below.

    The mad man screaming, "stay back! I don't want it anymore! Stay away!" However, not hitting any of the officers just seeming targeting something else. He fires shot after shot with officers having a sniper return fire, hitting him in the head, however he seemed to still be kicking. The next shot hits his hand. The man doesn't even react to losing his hand, we hurry up the stairs with having an ambulance rushing him to the hospital. That again the same program from before; the police try questioning him and we unplug the device only to find him die afterward. The vitals showing you died of a heart attack. In that room feeling the same spiritual pressure, something I can't physically describe and I swear from the corner of my eye seeing that same eye demon from before, Michael seeming more on edge than me.

    In my frustration I start beating the desktop with my buddy dragging me out along with some other cops. Michael shouting, "woah! Woah! Woah!" After that I was put on paid leave. I got chewed out and with me resting up at home, still stewing on what were dealing with until I realized. I call up Michael.

    Michael picks up and he yawns, "yeah Samson?"

    I question him, "have you seen Henry recently?"

    Michael groans, "no because I was asleep; why do you ask?"

    I bark, "no I mean at work you idiot!"

    Michael coughs, "I'm just fucking with you; relax my guy. No I hadn't seen Henry, he's been on vacation for a while now. Which is strange because were missing a flash drive."

    I tell him, "I think Samson has the flash drive. I know I'm going to get chewed out but want to help me swing by Henry's place?"

    Michael moans like he's in pain, "fine I'll get dressed; I know what you mean; and no don't give me that playing innocent crap with, "well not right now" alright?"

    This catches me off guard as I ask, "am I really that predictable?"

    Without even skipping a beat, "yes. Anyways I'm driving."

I protest, "No I'm driving! No way in hell you're driving!"

    He counters, "I drive or I'm not going." I didn't respond and just hung up in protest. He swung by my place; ideally we drive together in the same car, some officers have gone missing driving solo. So we drive in pairs. Michael picked me up; sure enough he drove like a bat out of hell; swerving in and out of traffic with me holding on for dear life. Sure enough in no time flat reaching a large beautiful blue house. We knock on the door to find no one answer; waiting a bit longer a woman answers the door.

    Michael asks, "Jessica; is Henry good? We have a missing flash drive and he had it last."

    Jessica says, "yeah he's fine; he's been out on his dirt bike recently. He asked me not to take the USB out and he's been racking up some serious cash; whatever he's doing right now is really saving us." Sure enough the two of us know where we need to go. Michael goes from driving like a bat out of hell to driving like someone's life depended on it. We know were getting close because that same pressure, that same overwhelming sense of dread starts to crush us.

    The large slopes and drops for the rock formations with the path being extremely unsafe by bike let alone by foot. The two of us dread moving on down to see Henry coming by, limping with his broken leg dragging behind him as he screams. Henry just screaming to the point of puking and continues to scream with him swatting something away; as soon we tried to get closer the overwhelming sense of dread starts to crush us and we start to see the things after him. The multi-eyed creatures with blacken sleek oil skin with many teeth that swirl like a blender, another with full on teeth and eyeless.

    Then we notice the last one; large mounting claws and a sharp grin, still humanoid in form and much more formal with how he's dressed. He somehow seemed the most scary out of everything, this overwhelming aura that you feel like you want to drop to your knees, to scream for hell to come finally and to just mentally snap. Michael and I grab Henry and move like a bat out of hell.

    We start to put the puzzle pieces, we drop Henry off at the hospital and call his girlfriend; once we do we stop seeing the nightmares. Of course; as soon he leaves on the stretcher, the area of influence grows once more and we feel the spiritual pressure again with the demonstration what's going on, a three eyed charcoal fur demon with red eyes coming out of Henry's head like a baby being birth from the womb. Michael is on the phone pleading for Jessica to, "take the fucking USB out!" She refuses, she sounds as if she hit the jackpot.

    Henry signals for Michael to hand the phone over and much to his dismay, he did and politely ask, "Jessica honey; rr- fuck that hurts, honey please pull out the flash drive." It doesn't take long before Henry gets a heart attack and the creature turns to black dust as it's floating off into the wind and the spiritual pressure feels as if it's lifted from us. They rush Henry inside, Jessica gets here as fast as possible to find Henry had passed.

    We want to spend time mourning but it's clear we need to get a move on; so we did. Michael gets call while driving, of course he's the type to call and drive. Then heads off to an abandon warehouse, the smell of rust and salt fill the air; waves crashing against concrete can be heard and creaking metal rings through our ears as were getting near the warehouse. Before we could take another step forward, a huge wave of pressure crushes us harder than anything we've felt so far. A sense of panic, heart racing, ringing in my eyes and hearing things that aren't there like something screaming in my head. The same man from before dressed in a lovely black suit approaches us.

    He flashes us a smile before speaking, "what do you think of my master's lovely project?" He chuckles, "the real gift isn't cash as you can tell, it's immortality."

    I question, "why, why mine fear from humans?"

    The man softly speaks, "simple; nightmares can't breed but humanity can." He picks my head up, licking my face like an animal and the saliva feels so real. Michael fires at him but sure enough; the bullets hit him and barely do anything to him. We go to unplug the USB from a device that's sticking out of his pocket only for him to not react.

    He softly speaks again, "do you honestly think I'd be dumb enough to bring mine?" However it did lower the spiritual pressure on me a bit, just enough for me to punch him in the face and keep distance between us. He runs off with the two of us taking gasoline and lighting the place on fire. We look out further into the city to hear more screams and then we look to one another.