fiction

Green

Well, I did it again. I asked y’all to give me nine random words that I would HAVE to use in a short story. I ended up with ten words and let me tell you, y’all made it a challenge this time. I already had a concept for a story before I received the lovely words you gave me. So finding ways to use these words in this story was difficult.

The story is called Green and here is the list of words I had to include:

  • Scissor Hold
  • Deceit
  • Petrichor
  • Paradoxical
  • Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia
  • Lethargic
  • Lover
  • Whimsical
  • Superposition
  • Penis

Whenever I used a word in the story I made it bold so you can spot each word as it appears. Now, without further ado, I give you: Green.

_______________________________________________________________________

My head hurt. I pulled on my pants and work polo. I brushed my teeth. The fluorescent light in the bathroom hurt my eyes. I brushed my tangled hair. My hair hurt. I went to the kitchenette. Maybe something in the fridge would help. Tasie bounded over winding herself between my legs and purring mightily. Her treats were next to the fridge.

“Hello, Anatasia,” I called her by her legal name. “Why did you let me drink so much this afternoon?”

Tasie tilted her head quizzically in answer. She knew nothing of what I spoke, only treats. I gave her a squishy little salmon shaped treat and she purred.

A better question was why had Maggie let me drink so much. She knew I had to work tonight. But she also knew about Henry. And what he’d done. We’d sat on her parents’ basement floor, backs against the smelly old sofa, passing cheap wine back and forth while I cried about Henry.

“Fuck ‘im. That’s what I say,” she took a swig and passed the bottle. “I mean it’s not like he was every really a boyfriend, Ce. More like… a lover.”

“Lover?” I cringed, “Gross, Mag. How old are you?” I took a drink and passed the bottle back. “I know we never made it official, but like, I thought…”

“Fuck. Him. Ce,” she said.

“I did. That’s the problem.”

“Now, who’s gross,” she laughed.

Maggie was my age, but she still lived at home. I had gone out on my own as soon as humanly possible. That meant renting a studio that was really a converted garage from a very nice lady in her late sixties who loved Anatasia and looked the other way when I was late on rent. I knew when she looked at me, she saw a kid who just needed a little help. Hell, when I looked at me, I saw a kid. Her name was Helen Parsons, but I called her Mrs. Parsons. She insisted I call her Helen. I tried. It didn’t stick.

“Mrs. Parsons?”

Her back door was open. I gently pulled the screen door open too and poked my head into the kitchen. “Do you mind if I borrow your car again? I’m running a little late for work.”

“The keys are hanging by the back door, dear,” she said from somewhere inside the house. “And it’s Helen.”

“Thank you, Mrs. – Helen,” I said, grabbing the keys.

Normally I walked to work. It wasn’t a long walk, about twenty minutes. But my head was still pounding, and I couldn’t face the walk. Partially because it took me right past Henry’s. Anyway, my shift started at 10:00 p.m. and it was already 9:55.

Enrique was tapping an imaginary watch on his wrist as I walked into the Super Mini-Mart, the only twenty-four-hour convenience store in our small town. I was two minutes late.

“You’re making me miss my beauty sleep,” he said. Enrique was a short, balding, gay, Hispanic man in his thirties with a beer gut. He needed all the beauty sleep he could get.

“Sorry, Ricky,” I said, walking quickly to the back to punch in.

“Don’t step…” Enrique yelled. But it was too late. I’d already squeaked my chucks across his freshly mopped floor. He’d left the mop out again. It didn’t matter. I’d put it away later.

“Sorry, Ricky,” I shouted, popping into the back office to retrieve my drawer for the night.

“Dios mio,” he muttered. Then shouting back at me, “It’s Enrique, Chechellia. Like Iglesias but better.”

“Sorry, Enrique,” I said, heavy on the “ree”. I slid in next to him behind the counter. He smiled and struck a pose. Something “Iglesias but better”. He turned to the register and started to count his drawer.

“So why are you late, Cheech?”

“Henry stuff,” I said. Enrique knew about Henry. He’d told me to “get rid of that boy” early on in our situationship. But I didn’t listen. I liked Henry and I thought he liked me too. I couldn’t tell Enrique what Henry had done.

“Cecelia, you need to stop seeing that boy,” Enrique said. “I don’t like his vibe.” I laughed at Enrique’s use of “vibe”.

“Well, don’t worry Enrique,” I said. “I doubt we’ll be seeing much of…”

Ding ding.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear. The door opened and in walked Henry. Because my head didn’t already hurt enough, now my heart had to as well.

Enrique had finished counting his drawer and should have been putting the zippered, locked pouch in the safe. But he wasn’t moving now. He slid the drawer and pouch under the counter and put both hands on his ample hips.

“Henry,” he said, all sass. “You’re looking… lethargic.”

Henry rolled his eyes but otherwise ignored Enrique. I didn’t want it but before I could stop it, butterflies filled my stomach, and my breath caught in my chest just a little. His unkempt brown hair and soulful eyes held me in a stupid spell I hadn’t yet figured out how to overcome. I hated him for showing up at my job and I was also excited to see him even after…

“What are you doing here, Henry,” I said, slamming my drawer into the register and adopting a “losers-go-home” attitude I definitely didn’t feel.

He side-eyed Enrique, who hadn’t moved a centimeter and continued to stare daggers at him, then walked to the coolers at the back of the store.

“I got thirsty,” he said.

Enrique should have been heading home already to get his “beauty sleep” but I knew he wouldn’t leave until Henry was gone. Meanwhile, Henry took an absurdly long time picking out a peach Arizona tea. Eventually he made his way to the counter, keeping an eye on Enrique.

“I didn’t see you walk to work. I was worried,” he said, getting as close to me as he could with the counter between us and Enrique running interference.

“That was by design,” I said, adding as an afterthought, “dumbass.”

“Dumbass” shook whatever good will he had toward me free. Gone was the whimsical hero wandering the Scottish moors in search of his lost love. Henry threw his hands up and backed away, donning his true visage: unfeeling man slut.

“Look,” he said, “Didn’t seem like you took things real well and I just wanted to make sure you were okay, Ce. I’m outta here.”

He left the tea on the counter and turned to leave when the door dinged open again and Maggie walked in.

“What the hell, Henry!” she bellowed.

Mag was all of five foot one on a good day. She was blonde and thick in all the right places. My polar opposite. Where she was thick, I was flat. Where she was blonde, I was raven-haired. While she’d developed a deep tan over the summer, I was still as pale as death.

She swaggered in wearing Pink booty shorts, a baggy tee she’d cropped, and platform flip-flops. She should have looked hot but the look of pure rage on her face made her look terrifying, as if she’d just won a match on Jerry Springer and she was ready for round two.

Henry turned back toward me, incredulous, “You called your attack dog on me, Ce?”

“Not me,” I said, shaking my head. I was just as surprised to see Mag as he was.

“Enrique texted me,” she said, pushing her index finger into his well-defined chest. Ugh. I mean his chest. Forget the well-defined part. Enrique shrugged.

“How dare you come to my best friend’s place of employment, slime,” she continued.

He maneuvered around her and headed toward the door again.

“Don’t worry. I was just leaving.”

He put his hand on the door and the lights went out.

Everything stopped with a loud vwoomp as anything hooked to electricity shut down in an instant. The exit lights flickered back to life from their battery backups. Super Mini-Mart glowed an eerie dim red. Until it didn’t.

A soft greenish light seemed to envelope the building, drifting in through the open windows. It mingled with the red light and created a strange orangish glow where the exit lights shined.

“Don’t worry, everyone,” Enrique said, “we probably just tripped a breaker. I’ll fix it.”

He shuffled off to the back of the store. But I couldn’t take my eyes off the windows. The green light was everywhere. It almost looked like neon green Vaseline had been applied to the entire building.

“This is stupid,” Henry said. He put his hand back on the door and tried to push but something kept the door from opening. “What the hell…” He pushed harder.

Whatever was blocking the door gave way only a centimeter or two. And then the green light shuddered, slamming the door shut again. It rippled across the whole building, shaking it, contracting, like something was squeezing the Super Mini-Mart. Small cracks began to form in the walls.

“I don’t think it’s a tripped breaker, Enrique,” I said.

“No shit,” he said. He was standing at the back of the store with the door to the office wide open, except there was no office. Just a gaping black hole.

Maggie punched Henry in the arm as hard as she could. “What the hell, Henry!”

“Ow!” he yelled. “What?”

“What did you do?!” Mag pointed her index finger in his face. He was easily a foot taller than her so it should have been comical, but no one was laughing.

“Me?” he protested, rubbing his arm. “I didn’t do anything.”

“I don’t think Henry did this, Mag,” I said. I watched as a tiny crack spread up the wall next to me all the way to the ceiling. There was no way this was Henry. As far as I knew he didn’t have any supernatural powers. Except maybe making silly girls fall for him then breaking their silly hearts.

“Um.” Enrique was still standing outside the office door staring into the new, strange abyss. “You guys really need to come see this.”

Mag and Henry stopped glaring at each other long enough to look over at what Enrique was talking about. The blackness beyond the door… something was wrong with it.

Moments later the four of us stood outside the open door staring at the inky black hole.

“Why does it look like that?” Mag asked. It was hard to describe what was wrong with the blackness. At first it just seemed ominous. But after a while we realized it looked as if it were expanding and contracting. Breathing. And wet.

“Someone touch it,” she said. No one moved.

 “The smell reminds me of something,” I said. “Rain. Or not rain, really. But like the way it smells after it rains.”

“Petrichor,” Henry said.

“Yeah,” I said, looking at him in surprise.

“What,” he said. “I know things. I’m not just a pretty face.” He smiled and gave a little wink. I could feel myself blushing. Mag made a gagging sound and looked like she was going to be ill.

Enrique picked up the mop from where he’d left it and plunged it into the blackness. It stopped just a few feet away. “There’s something there.”

Mag reached out a hand.

“Don’t touch it,” I said. She sighed and pulled her hand back.

“Fine.”

No one moved or said a word for a few minutes. The only sound was the hum of the exit signs and the four of us quietly contemplating. Then the building shuddered again, breaking the silence. Everyone jumped as the building creaked and more small cracks appeared.

“Oh my god!” Mag screamed. “We need to get out of here.” She began frantically pacing the floor.

I had already pulled my phone out of my pocket.

“I’m calling 9-1-1,” I said, trying to keep her calm, even though I didn’t feel at all calm myself.

But I couldn’t get through.

“Nothing. Busy signal,” I said. “Everyone, try your phones.”

Maggie stopped pacing and grabbed her phone.

I tried calling Mrs. Parsons next. Another busy signal. I went through my contacts one by one. I couldn’t get through to anyone.

“Nothing,” Enrique said.

“Same,” Henry and Mag said in unison. Mag scowled at him. Henry stuck out his tongue.

“So are we trapped in here?” Mag asked, panic rising in her voice again, now that the hope of being rescued had evaporated.

“It looks like it,” Enrique said. And as if to drive the point home, the building rumbled, a ripple effect washing through the green Vaseline.

“Ok, we need to find a way out of here,” I said. Escape had always been a specialty of mine. “Everyone, look for a way out. Check all the doors and windows.”

We fanned out. But the search was over about a minute later. None of the windows even had a way to be opened. There were no windows or outside doors in the restrooms. There was an emergency exit near the restrooms, but it was the same as the front door, being pushed closed by something outside. Henry kept trying the front again, pushing as hard has he could. It made his biceps flex, and I was in no way interested in that. Nope.

The building shivered.

“Anything?” I asked the group. Nada.

Mag hopped up onto the counter next to where I’d been trying to see if I could pry open a window. I reached out for her, and we held each other. I closed my eyes and tried not to let the growing panic take hold. Someone would find us. We’d get out eventually.

“What are you…” Enrique said. I opened my eyes as the sound of breaking glass filled the room.

Henry had a fire extinguisher and was using it to try to break down the door. He’d made it through the first pane of glass and was taking aim again.

“Oh my god, Henry! What are you doing?” I said, letting Mag go and rushing out from behind the counter.

“I’m getting us out of here,” he said, slamming the bottom of the metal canister against the second pane of glass.

It didn’t break, sending him reeling back. Whatever was blocking the door felt the impact that time though and responded in kind, causing the building to creak and shake. Undaunted, he charged in again. The next hit caused the glass to crack. More shaking. He went in again. More cracks, it was beginning to shatter but the thing outside was keeping the broken shards from coming loose. Henry raised the extinguisher up again and smashed the door. A few small pieces of glass dislodged and hit the floor. He smashed it again. And again. And again. The building shook with each hit. Until the shards were fractions of themselves but still mostly being held in place.

Everyone gathered around the broken door as Henry took aim over and over.

Finally, Henry stopped smashing. He reached out and picked a shard of glass free. Behind it sat a neon green translucent jelly-like substance. He prodded it with his finger. It jiggled and a small ripple went through it. The rest of us reached out and began freeing pieces of broken glass. A few minutes later we were standing in front of a wall of translucent green jelly.

I reached out and touched it. It jiggled and rippled.

“You guys,” I said, “I think this thing might be alive.”

It answered by rattling the building again. The cracks were getting bigger and spreading.

“So, what? We’re being squeezed to death by green jello?” Mag asked.

No one answered. I honestly think we all felt the same. Hopeless. We were trapped together by some mysterious green jelly creature with no way out. We were going to die. Everyone congregated around the counter. Nothing to do but sit and wait.

We sat in silence. Occasionally the jelly creature would shake the building again. Sometimes when it rippled, it would let out a disconcerting moan. I wanted to cry. Could feel the tears hovering somewhere behind my eyes. But I wouldn’t allow myself to give in to the feeling. Not in front of Henry.

Eventually, Mag said, “I’m hungry.”

“Go on,” Enrique said. “Everyone take whatever you want. Doesn’t matter now.”

Henry and I looked at each other. I shrugged. Why not? It had been hours, and I hadn’t even realized I was hungry until then. While the others wandered up and down the aisles, I headed toward the back. I knew exactly what I wanted. They were absolutely disgusting but whenever I had a bit of a hangover I went straight for the bean and cheese burritos in the freezer. I stopped short when it hit me. No electricity. Suddenly a half-frozen burrito with no way to cook it didn’t sound so appealing anymore. The thought eating semi-thawed beans and cheese made me gag. And then I saw the mop.

“You guys,” I said, “Put the snacks down. Come here.”

It was the gross burrito that gave me the idea. Everyone met me at the office door. I’d taken the mop and opened the door to the black abyss. If this thing surrounding the building was alive, maybe this was part of it. I held the mop aloft and pushed it into the void. There was something there, just like Enrique said. I pushed as hard as I could and whatever was there gave way. Not entirely. It was still pitch black ahead. But the mop went in further than it had before. Like a gross burrito forcing its way back out.

The building trembled. A piece of the ceiling crashed near the soda fountain. Everyone froze. I looked at the debris littering the floor and back at the office.

“I think I know how we’re getting out of here.”

Enrique and Henry took no convincing. We were going into the office with a mop as our weapon and hoping to come out the other side alive.

Maggie on the other hand.

“So, if this is part of it… you don’t think it’s like its…” she asked.

“Its? What?” Henry said.

“You know!”

“No. I don’t,” he said. “What?”

“Its… you know… its thing,” she squirmed.

“What thing? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.

He knew.

“You know.”

He shook his head. A picture of innocence.

“Penis!” she shouted.

Enrique lost it. I couldn’t help myself and started laughing too.

“No,” I laughed, “But I do think it’s our only way out.”

As if on cue another piece of ceiling dislodged itself and crashed behind us.

“Grab anything that might be useful for pushing through this thing,” I said, “You have 30 seconds.”

A moment later we entered the office.

“Don’t close the door,” Mag said. She’d grabbed a plastic bag from behind the counter and filled it with alcohol.

“No shit,” said Henry. He’d stuck with the fire extinguisher.

Enrique had grabbed a flashlight we kept behind the counter and several rolls of receipt tape which he had shoved into a bag. I still had the mop.

I led the way. Mag made sure to wedge herself between Henry and me. Enrique brought up the rear. As soon as we’d entered, he turned on the flashlight and had started unspooling a roll of receipt tape, wrapping the end of it around the door handle to the office.

“We don’t know how long this is,” he said when everyone gave him a questioning look.

Each push with the mop opened the passageway a little more. But with each push came the rumbling. Whatever we were doing, it didn’t like. I kept wondering how long it would be until this plan imploded and the creature fought back by squeezing us to death.

“So, what do you guys think this is?” I asked, pushing forward. My arms were beginning to get sore already.

“I actually have a theory about that,” Henry said.

I couldn’t see their faces, but I could feel Enrique and Mag rolling their eyes behind me.

“Ok then,” Enrique said. “What is it, pretty boy?”

“Ok,” he said, turning off the smug asshole persona and becoming the guy I’d fallen for. “Do any of you know what quantum superposition is?”

“Is that like what Sabrina Carpenter does at her concerts?” Mag asked.

“That’s the Juno position, Mag,” I laughed. I kept pushing. We inched forward. The blackness trembled around us.

“Then no,” she said.

“I’m not gonna explain this right,” he said, “but it’s like two things occupying the same space.”

“Keep going,” Enrique said. I could hear him behind me unraveling the receipt tape. I still didn’t know what good that was going to do us but it seemed to make him happy.

“Well, like, this thing just kind of appeared out of nowhere, right?” Henry said. “So like what if it exists in another dimension and that dimension and ours just kinda, I don’t know, collided?”

“I still don’t understand,” Mag said.

“Like on Star Trek,” he said.

“You watch Star Trek?” Mag laughed.

“Nerd,” Enrique coughed. Mag and Enrique giggled.

“Whatever,” Henry said.

“Keep going,” I said. “This is interesting.”

“No it’s not,” Mag laughed. She had opened a bottle from the bag and was now actively drinking behind me.

“Quiet, Mag. Keep going, Henry.”

“Ok, sometimes on Star Trek when they use the transporter something goes wrong, and two things become one. Maybe that thing out there existed somewhere else, like another dimension, and now it’s here, somehow part of the Super Mini-Mart. Two things occupying the same space somehow. I don’t know. That’s my theory.”

“It’s a good theory,” I said, smiling despite myself. I liked that he was smart. Stupid.

“How did you two meet again?” Enrique asked. I could feel the disdain wafting off of him.

“I need someone to take over,” I said. My arms were on fire.

“I got you,” Henry replied. He moved past Mag and took my place at the front, positioning the end of the extinguisher the same way I’d had the mop. Mag glared. He pushed and we inched forward. Mag ushered me to the back, and I fell in line behind her. She was still insisting on keeping us separated.

“Deceit,” Mag said.

“What?” Henry replied.

“That’s how they met.”

“No, it’s not,” he said. “We met on Tinder.” I could feel myself blush.

“Well, you’re a liar so it had to be through deception,” she said, laughing to herself.

“I’m not a liar.” I could hear the anger rising in his voice.

“Oh yeah? Then why’d you tell Cece she was ‘the coolest girl you’ve ever met’ then you went out with that skank? Emily something.”

Henry stopped pushing and turned around. He looked over Mag and straight at me.

“You told her that?”

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t know what to say. It’s not like any of this was a secret or even mattered now.

“She tells me everything, stupid,” Mag answered for me. “I’m her best friend.”

He turned around and forced the extinguisher forward. The blackness shook and contracted for a second. He was a lot stronger than me and clearly making more of an impact. I’d never been overly fond of small spaces and now we were being squeezed.

“Not that it’s any of your business, Maggie, but we weren’t exclusive. Ce is seeing other people too,” he said. He pushed again. Squeeze.

“Would you two shut up already?” I yelled. “We’re inside of a black void inside of a jello creature from another dimension that is squishing us… And, for the record, no, I’m not… so just… shut up.”

We had silence for a while after that. Henry kept inching us forward. Enrique kept unspooling receipt tape. And Mag kept drinking. I think it was the drinking that prompted her to break the silence again.

“What’s the longest word you know?” she said.

“What?” I asked her.

“Henry! You’re so smart. What’s the longest word you know?”

He pushed again. I held my breath, and the darkness squeezed.

“I don’t know, Maggie,” he said. He sounded exhausted.

“Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia! Ha!” she laughed. “Bet you didn’t know that one.”

“Nope,” he said. “Someone take that bottle from her.”

“No!” she yelled. “It’s mine!”

He pushed. It squeezed.

“It’s the fear of long words, dummy,” she said. “Who’s the stupid one now?”

“Still you,” he said.

“Shut up!” She tried to smack him on the arm again but ended up dropping her bottle. Red wine spilled everywhere, and the void began to shake.

“I don’t think it likes that cheap ass wine,” Enrique said. This time the shaking didn’t stop.

“I can’t get through,” Henry said. He was pushing as hard as he could but making no headway. “Ce, come help me.”

I moved past Mag and lifted the mop. Together we tried pushing through, but the void wouldn’t give way. It kept shaking. Meanwhile, Mag had opened another bottle but instead of drinking it she was pouring it out. The shaking increased, becoming more turbulent.

“I’m gonna make it puke,” she laughed.

The void started to push us back, like it was swallowing, trying not to vomit. It started to contract again. Enrique’s receipt tape had ensured the void stayed mostly open behind us and I finally saw the brilliance of it. Thanks to him we wouldn’t be completely crushed.

“Enrique, bring that flashlight up here,” I said. “And, Mag, stop trying to make it puke.”

Enrique joined us and the three of us pushed forward. We should have been doing this all along, if we’d thought of it.

Mag didn’t listen to me and continued pouring alcohol out into the dark. The void responded, forcing us back.

“This is gonna work!” she said, pouring out another.

Everything shook and squeezed. We were being compressed. And it was lasting longer than a second or two now. I couldn’t breathe. It wasn’t letting up and I thought for sure we were about to die. I could feel Henry next to me pushing as hard as he could. Mag was right up against my back. Enrique next to her. I could hear them gasping for air. I shoved as hard as I could next to Henry. It squeezed tighter. We were forced into each other. Henry dropped the extinguisher and put his arms around me. I could feel myself getting lightheaded from lack of oxygen. I let go of the mop and wrapped my arms around him, leaning into his chest. It squeezed again and Mag and Enrique were now involuntarily part of the hug. None of us could catch a breath. Enrique’s flashlight hit the ground, and everything went black. I was glad that in the end I was with people I loved. I put an arm around Mag and waited.

And, then, without warning, the void opened and we could see the outside. It gave one more violent shudder. Something seemed to explode around us, covering us in goo from the creature, and we were forced out into the early morning air.

“Hi ya, kids,” someone shouted.

I looked to my right and about half a block away Mrs. Parsons was waving at us, the sun coming up behind her. She was covered in slime, all five foot nothing of her, and holding a huge pair of hedge shears, wearing her after dinner windbreaker suit, which she wore for her evening strolls. I looked around and saw several other elderly people, all covered in slime, with varying garden tools, surrounding the jelly creature. It was a strange sight to behold.

“Huh,” Maggie said, “Looks like I got us out. Isn’t that paradoxical?”

“That’s not…” I laughed. It didn’t matter. And, then, suddenly Henry’s hand was in mine.

He leaned over and whispered in my ear, “I didn’t lie. You’re still the coolest girl I’ve met.”

I looked up into his big, dumb eyes. He leaned over again and kissed me, and I forgot about jelly creatures, and Maggie, and being mad at him. And then the sound of fire trucks arriving broke the spell.

“Well, I suddenly realized I would need my car in the morning for my antiquing date with Bruce,” Mrs. Parsons told us after we joined up with her. “I tried to call Cecelia, but I couldn’t get through and I thought it was such a lovely summer night, I might as well walk to the mini mart.”

Mrs. Parsons was now sitting in a chair with a blanket wrapped around her and a cup in her hands. Paramedics had arrived. We’d all been given blankets and cups. Everyone was being checked out. While we waited for our turns to be examined, Mrs. Parsons told us her story.

“I saw it from several blocks away. But I had no idea what it was. I kept walking until I got close enough to see this huge jelly monster had somehow overtaken the mini mart and most of the block. Well, my first thought was for Cecelia. I didn’t know the rest of you were in there, but I knew I had to find a way to get her out. I knew exactly who I needed to call.” She took a sip from her cup. We were on the edge of our seats.

“Who?” asked Maggie. She was finally starting to sober up a bit.

“My gardening club,” Mrs. Parsons said in all seriousness.

“Why didn’t you call the cops?” she asked.

“The cops?” Mrs. Parsons laughed. “What were they gonna do? Shoot it? No, I needed people I could trust. So I called everyone in my gardening club and told them to bring their strongest and sharpest tools. Bruce brought me the hedge shears.” She held up the huge pair of shears so we could see them. “We went to town on the thing. I got it in a scissor hold! Like Monday Night Raw!”

“That’s not…” Henry laughed. “Thank you, Helen, you’re a bamf.”

I smacked Henry in the arm. “Don’t call Mrs. Parsons a bamf!”

Mrs. Parsons laughed, “Why not, Cecelia? I am a bad ass mother fucker.”

The End.

Recruitment Day: Give It Your All

Made a little zine today for a short story I wrote. Here’s the short story for ya. Enjoy.

Aggie was twelve the first time she was called into the recruiting office. Many of her peers had already been called once or twice. But Aggie didn’t possess the gifts that they did. And so she remained unchosen.

Each day she woke with only one hope in mind, to be called to recruiting. She was tired of being left behind. After all, why shouldn’t she take part in the grand ole tradition?

“It’s a beautiful day to be recruited. Don’t you think, Mother?”

“Yes, Aggie. But don’t be so eager. It’s not so terrible to not be chosen,” she would say. This always angered Aggie. Her mother had been recruited so many times now, she was practically sought after.

But the day it finally happened Aggie had not greeted her mother in her usual way. It was raining and she did not think it was a beautiful day. She went to school and sat through True History, Patriotism, and Prosthesis Care before her name was shouted over the intercom.

“Aggie Grey to the recruiting office. Aggie. Grey. Recruiting.”

At first, she thought she was daydreaming. She didn’t move from her seat until the boy next to her whispered, “Aggie…”

“Huh? George, did they really say my name?” she asked. George had an eye patch covering one eye and had to fully turn himself to face her.

“Yes! And you’d better go now.” Everyone was staring at her, including the teacher.

She scrambled out of her seat, tripping over her bag. Her hands shook and her breath caught in her chest.

She didn’t need anyone to show her the way to recruiting. She’d walked past it so many times by now wondering when she would finally be called. She’d imagined this day for so long now but in all of her daydreams she’d never expected to feel so small, so nervous. The walls seemed to bow in towards her as she walked, licking their lips and grinning as they threatened to swallow her up. Then just as her hand reached for the handle of the door, it swung open. Inside she was directed to a windowless office where Dr. Fischer, head of recruitment, sat waiting.

“So. Aggie Grey. This is your first time in recruiting, isn’t it?” he asked, looking over a file in his hand.

“Yes, Sir.”

“Well, I’m certain it won’t be your last time here. I can see from your file here that you have a lot of potential to benefit the Patriciate.”

“I hope so, Sir. It is truly an honor.”

He set the file on his desk and extended his good hand towards her. His left sleeve appeared to be hollow.

“I’m Dr. Fischer and I will be coordinating the procedure.”

She shook his hand.

“Sir…”

“You have a question?”

“Well, this is my first time. I’ve done all the reading on recruitment, of course. It’s part of our Patriotism class. But I still don’t really think I know what to expect.”

“You’re nervous, am I right? Everyone is nervous their first time. But you’ll get the hang of it.”

“Can I ask? What will be recruited from me?”

“Of course you can ask, Aggie. In fact, I’ll walk you through the entire process over the next hour or so and then you’ll be taken to medical. Does that sound ok?”

“Yes. Thank you. It seems silly to be nervous. I mean everyone goes through this, right?”

“Well, all of us plebeians do,” he laughed. “No one in the Patriciate has ever been recruited.”

Aggie laughed along with him. It felt good to laugh. It calmed her nerves. This was normal. Everyone went through this. Soon she’d be back with her classmates, just another one of them, having served dutifully.

“And in answer to your question, Aggie, we’ll be taking your eyes. Someone in the Patriciate liked their color so they’re replacing theirs with yours. You’ve gone over learning to live without sight in Prothesis Care, haven’t you?”

“Yes, Sir.”

The End.

Alternate Title: The Eyes of Aggie Grey.

The Endless Doom

Dropping a new short story for y’all called “The Endless Doom”. Let me know what you think. Not proofreading before I drop it. So if you find any glaring mistakes let me know.

The Endless Doom

“Mark, you came into today’s session saying you had big news and now you’re refusing to talk about it. I can’t force you to face your issues, Mark, but if you really want to see improvement, you have to be willing to talk about these things.”

“I know you’re right. It’s just, I don’t know what this means for me and Erika.”

“Well, Mark, what do you want it to mean?”

“I don’t know. Erika is everything I’ve ever wanted but…”

“But what, Mark?”

“She’s… there’s something about her that I…”

“Mark, you have twenty minutes left in today’s session. You can spend the time however you like but I recommend using it to really get to the heart of this issue you have with Erika.”

“Alright… Well, you know I met Erika in the fall…”

Mark met Erika through mutual friends. She was intelligent, beautiful, the life of the party. Mark had always been more reserved, trying hard to fit in wherever he went. He wanted to be liked, and not stand out. But he was immediately drawn to the funny girl with the crooked smile.

Erika, however, was not drawn to Mark. While she debated current politics with a group in the corner, Mark stood close by and just nodded along, never taking his eyes from her face. Erika hardly noticed him.

When their mutual friend Greg excused himself to attend to other guests, Mark and Erika found themselves alone.

“So, what do you do, Mark?”

“Uh, I’m a writer.”

“Oh? Would I have read anything you’ve written?”

“Not unless you’ve read The Endless Doom series.”

“No. What is it?”

“It’s a comic series. I do the writing. Stefan draws.”

“Oh.”

And that was it. Erika gave a weak smile and found an excuse to leave. Mark was a leaf blowing across her path on a windy day. She wouldn’t have been able to pick him out of a lineup the next morning.

But for Mark it was entirely different. He’d met a few beautiful and fascinating women but none that consumed his every thought the way Erika did. In the few moments they’d had together at Greg’s party he’d memorized every line of her face, the way she smelled, the lilt of her voice. He was certain he’d never see her again and just as certain that she would occupy every waking moment of his day for weeks to come.

“So, how’s the comic biz?” Greg asked, having returned to the corner after seeing Mark alone. He liked Mark but in the way you like someone you pity.

“Excuse me,” Mark said. He couldn’t make small talk with Greg at that moment. He needed to get somewhere private. He rushed into the bathroom and unzipped. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been this hard before and it only took the lightest touch of his hand to find relief. Naturally, he left the party immediately after.

He spent the bus ride home scouring social media, looking for any profile of Erika’s. He looked through their mutual friends’ profiles but turned up nothing. In the end he used an avatar generator he found online to recreate her the way he remembered her. He just wanted to look at her a little while longer.

It was a month later, when he had just begun to think of her less, that he ran into her again. Mark and Stefan were leaving a local comic shop they frequented when Greg and Erika crossed their path one evening.

“Oh my god. This is crazy,” Greg was saying, “I was just telling Erika about your little series. What’s it called again?”

“The Endless Doom.” Mark tried not to stare but he couldn’t help himself.

“You remember Erika?” Greg asked. But he didn’t need to. Of course Mark remembered her. While Stefan introduced himself, Mark reacquainted himself with her features, her scent. He studied her, if only to later improve the look of the avatar he’d created.

“We were just about to go get some Chinese. Do you want to join?” Erika’s voice cut through Mark’s daydreaming. Before he could think, before Stefan could respond…

“Yes!” He smiled and averted his eyes. Had she noticed how he’d been staring?

The four of them went down the street and sat cramped together in a decrepit, old booth eating wontons and drinking beer. Mark found himself talking more than he usually did. Something about being in her presence was absolutely electric. Soon four became three and three became two.

“I don’t remember you being this funny the last time we met,” she said.

“I wasn’t.”

Erika laughed and her voice sounded like pixies skipping on the wind. Mark laughed too. Being with her felt natural and pure.

“You haven’t touched your food,” he said. Mark was right. Erika’s plate was the only one untouched. He was sure he’d seen her eating but there it was.

“I wasn’t really hungry,” she said.

The waitress came with the check and set it firmly on the table, hands on hips.

“You pay now. We closed.”

Mark smiled up at her embarrassed they’d overstayed their welcome and pulled out his wallet to pay. At the same time, Erika reached for her purse.

“Oh no, I got this,” Mark said.

“Such a gentleman,” she gushed. But for just a second Mark wondered if reaching for her purse had just been for show. It didn’t matter. He was here with her, and this was the closest he’d come to being on a date in a very long time.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, getting up from the table. “Wait for me outside?”

“Sure.”

Mark dutifully stood from the table and left the restaurant, wondering where the night would take them. There was a chill in the air, and after ten minutes of waiting he started to think she’d slipped out the back. Fifteen minutes went by and still Erika had not come out. He was on the brink of leaving after waiting a full twenty-one minutes when she rounded the corner of the building from the side alley.

“Geezus! You scared me. I was starting to think you’d left.”

“Sorry,” she said, “I got locked in.”

Mark looked back through the window of the restaurant. A staff member was still mopping the dining room floor. A needle pricked the back of his mind but one look from Erika dulled the sensation.

After that night they began seeing each other often. Erika worked third shift at a hospital so she was always asleep during the day and Mark’s work on The Endless Doom meant he could keep any hours he wanted. So most evenings if Erika wasn’t working, the two of them could be found walking the city streets together, frequenting any place that stayed open late. Mark found himself changing. Being with her brought something out of him that perhaps had always been there, buried. He was more confident, quicker to tell a joke. He started dressing better and even started to wear cologne. Anything he could do to keep Erika coming back for more.

But then one night it happened. At the end of a long night out, Erika excused herself and headed to the back of the restaurant. Just like that first night, and every night since, Mark paid the check and then stood to wait for her outside. He’d grown used to her ordering food she never touched and taking a very long time in the restroom at the end of the night. But this time, she’d forgotten her purse at the table. His first thought was to just take it with him outside. But a nagging feeling, that needle prick again, sent him with the purse through the little curtain in the back that Erika had just disappeared through. What he saw confused and angered him.

Erika was not heading into the restroom, as he’d presumed. She was flirting with a dishwasher and walking out the back door with him. Is this what she’d been doing every night? He couldn’t believe his eyes. Here was this perfect specimen of a woman, going out with him night after night, allowing him to pay for a dinner, never once kissing him goodnight, and now she was heading into the alley with some random dishwasher? It was more than he could take. He decided to follow her.

“Help me to understand,” his therapist interrupted. “You say you saw her go into the alley with this other man, you followed her, and you saw her kissing him?”

“No,” he said, “I said I thought she was kissing him. Except…”

Mark burst through the back door and found the two of them at the other end of the alley. The dishwasher had his back to the wall and Erika was leaning into him, her lips pressed against his throat. As Mark closed in on the pair, he could see Erika’s hands pressed against his shoulders. Her mouth moved across his throat while he moaned.

“What the hell, Erika?”

“Mark!” He’d startled her. And it was only then when she’d pulled away from the dishwasher that Mark saw.

“You saw blood,” his therapist asked.

“Yes.”

“What are you saying, Mark? I’m not sure I’m understanding.”

Relief flooded Mark’s body. The blood dripping from Erika’s lips was a much more welcome sight. She wasn’t kissing him. She was…

“Wait. What’s happening?”

Erika turned back to the dishwasher and wiped the blood from his neck.

“Go back inside, Diego. I’ll see you next week.”

Diego, for his part, did exactly as he was told, though clumsily as if in a daze.

“Mark,” Erika pleaded, wiping blood from her lips, “Please let me explain.”

And that was how they spent the rest of the night. They walked through the city together while Erika explained to Mark what he’d seen and a few other things about herself that she’d been keeping from him.

“Mark, you don’t seriously expect me to believe Erika is a vampire, do you?” His therapist had removed her glasses and was now rubbing her temples. “Surely, all of this is some kind of role play for her.”

But that is exactly what Mark had said to Erika.

“You don’t really expect me to believe you’re a vampire, do you? This has to be some kind of kink thing, right?”

“This is who I am, and who I have been for more than a century. Diego is one of my familiars. I have several around the city that allow me to feed. I haven’t killed anyone in a very long time. I find it easier to stay in one place if I don’t leave a string of bodies in my wake.”

Mark considered this. He wasn’t sure if he believed her completely but so many things about her made more sense when viewed in this light. She never ate. She never left her apartment before sunset. She had no social media presence at all. She wouldn’t even allow him to take a photograph of her. Then there was the way he’d always been inexplicably drawn to her. Had she put him under some kind of spell?

“So what does that make me? Am I a familiar?”

“You’re my boyfriend, silly.” Erika smiled and looped her arm through his as they continued to walk. “A familiar has no choice. Once I’ve set my sights on someone, they are under my control until I release them. I keep familiars around for food. I never put you under any spell and I’ve never fed off of you.”

“Boyfriend.” He liked the sound of that. “Ok, but how can I be your boyfriend? We’ve never even kissed, Erika.”

She stopped walking and looked into his eyes.

“I know, Mark. I was afraid.”

Her? Afraid? She was easily the most confident woman he’d ever known. She was so far out of his league he never even bothered to tell people he was seeing her. He didn’t think anyone would believe him. And now she’d just revealed that she was a powerful non-human entity. What did she have to be afraid of?

“I was afraid that if I kissed you, you’d fall under my spell and become just another familiar. You’re with me because you want to be, not because you have to be. I didn’t want to lose that.”

He stared deeply into her eyes. He thought about the first time they’d met at Greg’s party. He’d never been more drawn to someone. He’d been so completely consumed by her that he’d had to go into the bathroom to masturbate just so he could relieve himself of a painful erection. He was embarrassed just thinking about it. But now he realized that perhaps it wasn’t his fault. Perhaps it was just the supernatural allure she possessed. Thinking about it now, he wasn’t sure if he was really attracted to her at all, or if it was just a spell she’d unintentionally cast on him. There was only one way to know.

He leaned in and kissed her.

“So?” his therapist asked. “What happened?”

“I’m not her familiar,” Mark said with a smile. “I’m her boyfriend.”

“So you’ve decided to embrace this then?”

“I think so. The real issues is… What I wanted to bring up…”

“Mark, your time is almost up.”

“She asked me to move in with her.”

“This is what you wanted to talk about?”

“Yes,” he sighed, having finally gotten it out. “It would be a huge step for me. Like I said, she’s everything I’ve ever wanted. But she’s…”

“She’s a vampire. Or at least thinks she is a vampire. And this is what is holding you back?”

“Yes.” He relaxed. It was hard to talk about this, but it seemed his therapist was beginning to understand the problem. “I’m already somewhat of a night owl, so it isn’t really her sleep schedule I’m worried about. But if I move in with her, am I going to have to put up with familiars there? Also, every window in her apartment is covered to block out the sun. I’m not exactly a morning person but I like a little light through the window. So I’ll miss that. And I don’t know if I can even have Stefan over to her place to work on The Endless Doom. I don’t know it’s just a lot to consider.”

Mark’s therapist looked at her watch.

“We’re ten minutes over, Mark. Let’s circle back to this next week, okay?”

“Ok. I think I might say yes. But I don’t know yet. We can talk about it next week.”

I Had Waited Too Long

I asked for seven random words. With stipulations. Two verbs, two nouns, two adjectives, and one name. You delivered. Mostly. I received one verb, one noun, two adjectives, and two names. So I used a random word generator to come up with the rest.

The final list of random words looked like this:

Verbs – appeasing, recover. Nouns – wings, lock. Adjectives – crispy, stronger. Name(s) – Virgil, Calvin Bartholomew.

And then I set to work. So here you are. A little story about what makes us human and maybe about not waiting too long to take your shot. Hope you like it.

I Had Waited Too Long

“Who are you?”

The dark shape shifted its weight.

click    click    click   click  click click clickclickclickclickclick

It sounded of insects scuttling. Or, perhaps worse, repositioning. The rasping hiss that emerged from the dark corner where it lurked dripped with oil and phlegm. And rattled like the cough of a tuberculosis sufferer deep in the grip of their illness. Then… the sound of something soft and weighty sliding against the cement floor – unmistakable and deafening in the silence between us.

*

I only needed that old coffee can of screws and nails on the shelf opposite the doorway. I’d rushed down the stairs into the basement, not suspecting I wouldn’t find myself alone. But as my left hand tugged on the worn string pull, my bare foot found what was left of the lightbulb that should have flashed to life.

I howled, of course.

Who doesn’t cry out when they’ve stepped on broken glass?

But my cry of pain awoke whatever was lurking in the shadows. Whatever had shattered the lightbulb.

It met my cry with a terrifying shriek. And I was aware, all at once, that I was not alone.

I started to scream, to run but something whipped through the air out of the darkness and knocked me on my back. The wind was knocked from me and my head hit the hard floor. For a while all I could do was lie there, gasping, trying to will oxygen back into my lungs and hold my aching skull, tears stinging my eyes, running in rivulets into my ears.

I could hear it moving. It was backed into a corner and keeping its distance from me. Something in the way it moved sent waves of unease through me. The unmistakable taste of bile filled my mouth. Its shuffling and skittering crunched, sounding almost horribly crispy, like potato chips used to simulate bones cracking for a Halloween guessing game. But underneath the cracks and clicks was something else entirely. Something soft and wet and big. Something powerful.

I’m not sure if it was afraid or calculating its next move but while it waited, I had time to recover. I got to my hands and knees and started to crawl to the door.

whip   w  h  i  p   click

The door was shut. I would have sworn I heard the sound of the lock latching as well.

It seemed it didn’t want me to leave just yet.

And now the basement was completely dark.

Moonlight shone in silvery wisps from the dirty half windows at the basement ceiling but without the light from the door I felt blind. I crawled to the corner, backing as far from it as I could. I tried to picture the layout of the basement while I waited for my eyes to adjust or for it to make a move, and began feeling around me, hoping my hands would brush against something useful.

Wings.

Or what was left of them.

My hands had brushed against the lifeless bodies of a few small birds, dismembered from what I could tell. I quickly rubbed my hands against my jeans wishing I hadn’t blindly reached out, and that I had hand sanitizer. I couldn’t help but wonder how birds had ended up in my basement and where the rest of them had gone. I knew I didn’t really want to know the answer, though. I stopped searching with my hands, afraid of what else I might find, and waited until my eyes adjusted to the moonlight.

Soon I was able to make out a large dark shape in the corner opposite me. It appeared to fill the space almost completely, hunching over to keep from reaching the ceiling. It had managed to find the one corner of the basement the moonlight couldn’t reach. Even as my eyes adjusted, I could not decipher what the shape before me represented. It could have been a large man, a coat rack with too many coats, or an eldritch horror waiting to dismember me like a little bird.

It emitted a low rumbling and the shaped rippled in the dark.

“Are you going to hurt me?”

Scuttling. Rumbling.

I searched the nearest shelf for a weapon or a flashlight or a miracle. Gardening gloves. Sewing machine. Broken tennis racket. Cleats that were much too small.

I slowly stood, hands in front of me to show I was no threat.

“I’m not going to hurt you. Ok?”

I scanned the next shelf while trying to keep an eye on the shape.

“It’s very clear that you are stronger than me.”

Watering can, a box of extra light bulbs, and another marked “Virgil” – it was full of cat toys and clothes that had once belonged to my grandmother’s dead cat.

“It would be crazy for me to try something. I know that.”

An old radio, a jar of buttons, a box marked “Important DO NOT THROW AWAY”, a music box.

The music box was open. The tiny figure of a ballerina hung limp waiting for someone to crank the key and start the dance once more. It had been my grandmother’s. A souvenir my grandfather had given her when he’d come back from the war. He’d had the little plate on the front engraved with her name, “Rose,” along with a rose, of course. I remembered watching my grandfather lift the lid in the evenings after supper and turn the key, summoning my grandmother to his arms. They would dance around the living room cheek to cheek while the ballerina danced alone in the box.

Inexplicably, I found myself reaching for the music box. I cranked the key and held my breath. I hoped music would soothe the savage beast or, at least, aid me in appeasing this ghoul waiting to devour me. The ballerina straightened and began spinning her pas seul around the music box.

The rumbling stopped. The shape stopped moving. The music played.

And then the shape began to hum.

And sway. Ever so slightly.

When the dancer took her bow and the music ended, it stopped too. No more swaying. No humming. Nothing and silence.

Then…

“Rose,” it wheezed.

Something… there was something human in it. Whatever this thing was waiting to take me apart in the dark, it had a mind, and a sliver humanity. The silence hung between us as I mulled this over, and I thought maybe appealing to its humanity was my only way out.

“Who are you?”

It shifted. Chittering and clicking, a rasping hiss belying the intelligent speech from just moments before. It sounded animal, feral, again. Whatever was human in it was gone. I was trapped and as a weapon I’d chosen a music box. But then the sound of it sliding across the floor quickened my nerves. I twisted the key in the box again. “Luna Waltz” began to play, and it stopped.

“Who are you?” I asked as the tiny ballerina spun and whirled.

Hmm hmm. It was humming.

“Who are you? Please.” I tried, salty tears welling up in my eyes.

“hmmm… Cal… Calvin…”

It cleared its throat and spoke again, “Calvin… Calvin Bartholomew Riggs.”

The music ended. The ballerina took her bow. My mind reeled. Had I just heard it… him… correctly? Had he really said…

“Grandpa?”

An inhuman shriek filled the air, and it moved faster than I could have imagined. I wasn’t quick enough with the key. He was gone. It was all that was left. The music box shattered as it hit the floor. Something grabbed me and I whirled across the room like the tiny dancer. Searing pain rushed through every nerve in me as it ripped my arms, my wings, from my body. Everything went totally dark.

I had waited too long.