My Friend Found Something Strange in the Forest

It was Saturday morning. I was in the middle of the forest, and my best friend Derek had just brought me into freaking bizarro world.

Not even an hour ago, I was still in bed, sleeping peacefully.

I was awoken by a loud, shrill noise that I identified as my phone’s ring tone.

It was Derek, calling me at seven in the morning. On a Saturday.

I declined the call instantly. Let me sleep, asshole!

On his third try, I picked up.

“The hell do you want, man?”

“Martin! Listen, can you-?”

“No, you listen,” I cut him off. “Do you have any idea what time it is!?”

“Oh yeah, sorry about that. I need to show you something, all right? It’s important! I’m going to be at your place in twenty, kay?”

“What the hell’s even going on? I just want to sleep…”

“Trust me, you don’t want to miss this. You can sleep later!”

With that, he hung up. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Knowing that idiot, he’d really be here in twenty minutes, and he’d definitely not let me go back to sleep.

Cursing, I got up, put on some clothes, and made myself a cup of coffee to wake up.

I hadn’t even finished it when the doorbell rang.

I was more than annoyed, but let him in. He was beaming at me, full of energy, and stormed right past me into the apartment.

“What’s so freaking important? What do you want to show me?”

“It’s out in the forest. I found it a couple of days ago, but last night, I finally realized-“

He broke off, looking at me while I stared back at him, a half-full cup of coffee in hand.

“What are you waiting for? Come on, put some shoes on!”

“Jesus Christ, Derek, calm down for a moment. What the hell’s the matter with you this morning?”

Instead of answering me, he only motioned for me to hurry, already waiting for me at the door. As I followed him down the stairs, he continued going on about something he’d found, but I had no clue what it was. He constantly stumbled over his words, making his explanation nothing but gibberish.

Derek’s car was parked right outside the apartment building. Our friend Mike was already in the car. He looked even less happy than I was.

“He made you come along as well?”

Mike grumbled something to himself before he nodded.

Once I’d entered the car as well, I turned to Mike.

“Do you have any clue what this is all about?”

Before Mike could answer, Derek jumped in the front seat and started the car.

“You guys will be so glad you came along!”

“Not like we had much of a choice,” Mike mumbled.

With that, we sped off. Once more, I wondered what the hell was wrong with Derek. As I watched his face in the rearview mirror, I saw he was grinning like an idiot.

Not even ten minutes later, we’d arrived in the forest. Derek was the first to be out of the car.

“Come on, you guys!” he yelled at Mike and me.

Then, without so much as waiting for us, he turned around and followed a small trail into the forest.

Mike and I both sighed before we set out to follow him. Every once in a while Derek would stop, turn around any yell at us to get a move on.

I couldn’t believe this shit. Why’d he drag us out here? I’d been up all night and now I was following this idiot because of god knows what.

“This better be worth it,” Mike cursed behind me. “If this is his idea of a joke, I swear…”

At first, we followed the trail, but after a while, Derek led us straight into the forest. We made our way past trees and through the underbrush before we arrived at a small stream.

“Almost there, guys, almost,” Derek called out, barely able to catch his breath. His voice was high-pitched and almost euphoric.

In a swift motion, he jumped over the stream and vanished behind a group of boulders.

When we followed him, we found him on the ground, sitting in front of something strange.

At first glance, I thought it was a weird plant or flower, something reminiscent of a tulips blossom. Then, I saw it was much, much bigger, the size of a small animal.

When I got closer, though, I saw it wasn’t a flower. It was made of… flesh? All around it, the forest floor was covered in roots, or better tentacles sprouting from the thing. They, too, seemed to be made purely of flesh.

Had Derek brought us out here to show us some sort of disgusting animal carcass? Right at that moment, though, the tentacles started moving and slithering over the ground.

I cringed back.

“What the fuck? That thing’s alive?”

Derek didn’t answer. Instead, he sat there, smiling down at the disgusting thing in a state of bliss.

“Isn’t it beautiful, guys?” he finally asked, turning towards Mike and me.

“Beautiful? What are you talking about?”

I was so utterly confused. Was this some sort of joke?

“Just look at it,” he continued in a soft, almost solemn voice.

Then he moved forward to touch the thing, to caress it. That wasn’t all he did, though. With his other hand, he reached out for one of the many tentacles and began stroking it. And then, only moments later, he leaned forward and kissed the thing. It was surreal.

As he retracted his face, I could see the thing’s disgusting slime covering his lips.

“What the fuck are you doing, man!?” Mike screamed.

His face was nothing but an expression of purest disgust.

“I found it a few days ago,” Derek answered. “It took me a while to realize how truly beautiful it is, but, I mean, just look at it, guys!”

With that, he leaned forward to kiss the thing once again. As he did, he began gently pressing down on the tentacle he was still caressing. At that moment, the thing began twitching and squeaking before it seemed to stretch itself.

“See, it likes it!” he said, giggling.

As I watched the spectacle in front of me, I felt sick to my stomach.

“Fuck this! I don’t want to have anything to do with, with… whatever this shit is!”

With that, Mike turned around and stormed off into the forest.

“Mike, hey, why are you leaving?”

For a moment, Derek seemed confused, before his eyes focused on me.

“Martin, you’re staying, right? Just come here, you can touch it, too. It’s so soft. Just do it once. I’m sure you’ll like it.”

As he looked over at me, I saw how wide his eyes were and how full of euphoria his face was. I cringed back once more, when I saw the greasy slime now covering not only his lips but his entire face.

“Dude, just… no. Do you even know what that thing is?”

“It’s beautiful, perfect and-“

“It’s disgusting, that’s what it is!” I exploded at him. “I don’t know what the fuck you found here, but this is not normal. Come on, man, just leave it alone.”

While I was yelling at him, Derek had already turned back to the slithering mess of flesh and tentacles. He was whispering to it and every once in a while, I noticed him glaring at me.

“You know what? Fuck this.”

I had enough. As I made my way back over the stream and through the forest, I couldn’t help but shiver. What the hell was that thing, and why was Derek acting like this? It gave me the creeps!

Before long, I reached the trail and a few minutes later, I was out of the forest. I stopped at Derek’s car, not sure if I should wait for him. Mike was already gone and had probably left for good.

For a while I waited for Derek, but as I did, the images of him caressing and kissing the thing came back to my mind. I gagged when I remembered the slime on his lips and face. Fuck this, I told myself again, and did what Mike had done.

I was halfway home when a car approached me from behind. It was Derek. He drove towards me, slowed down, and lowered the window.

“Hey, what’s the matter Martin? Hop in, I take you home.”

“Nah man, I’m good, I’ll walk.”

After saying that, I stepped off the road to let him drive past me. Derek, however, stopped the car.

“Just get in.”

After a few more seconds of awkward silence, I sighed and got in the car. As I did, however, I stayed as far away from him as possible.

“I know how weird it is,” he started in a quiet voice. “I freaked out, too, when I first found it. Really, can’t blame you guys.”

I said nothing.

“I was curious about it, so I went back, and then again. It took me a while, but last night I realized why. This thing, it’s different. It’s something magnificent!”

“Do you even hear yourself? How can you even touch that thing? Fuck, man, it’s disgusting. We should just burn it!”

Right after I’d said this, he hit the brakes. I could barely raise my hands to keep my head from slamming into the dashboard.

“The fuck are you doing?” I screamed at him.

When I turned over to him, however, his face was red with anger.

“You wouldn’t do that, would you?” he pressed out between his lips.

I couldn’t tell if it was a question or a threat. The way he looked at me, the desperation I saw in his wide eyes scared me. For a moment, I wondered if this was really my best friend. Was this the same goofy idiot I’d known for almost a decade?

“All right, all right. It’s none of my business. All I’m saying is that it’s creeping me out. It might even be dangerous.”

I heard a sigh of relief and the anger left his face.

“Don’t worry, it’s going to be fine. It’s not dangerous at all. I mean, I’ve been there so many times already and nothing happened. It’s just so…”

He broke off, shaking his head, but was now smiling again.

Once Derek dropped me off, it was still only half-past eight. Back at home, I didn’t know what had just happened. Once more, I couldn’t help but wonder what that thing was.

At first I put on some music and contemplated going back to bed to catch some sleep. But then, driven by some odd sense of curiosity, I began searching the net for information. I ended up finding jack shit.

I reasoned it had to be a plant after all, maybe a flesh-eating one, but all the pictures I found looked entirely different. What if it really was made of flesh?

I asked for information in a few places online, but got no useful answers. Most people thought I was playing a joke and in the end, I gave up. Whatever it was, it had nothing to do with me.

Soon enough, I had all but forgotten about the weird incident.

Our small town’s surrounded by forests and meadows. In the warmer month I often go on nice, long runs in the evening.

I was out running on a Thursday when I recognized someone on the road ahead of me. At first, I ignored the person, but then I recognized him.

“Derek, is that you?”

He didn’t react to my question and at first I thought I was mistaken. Then, slowly, he turned around to greet me.

When I saw him, I noticed how tired he looked. He had bags under his eyes, and he looked restless and exhausted.

“Shit dude, you all right?”

“Oh, hey Martin. Yeah, I’m fine, just tired, that’s all. Haven’t gotten a lot of sleep these past days. You know, work and all that.”

“I know what you mean,” I said, laughing. “Why are you out here? Shouldn’t you be home catching some sleep?”

I meant it as a joke, but then I realized why he’d to be out here.

“Don’t tell me you went to that thing again?”

A shrug.

“Only for a moment, just to make sure it’s doing all right.”

“Are you sure you’re just tired? You don’t look so good, maybe that thing’s-“

“Come on, Martin, not again. It’s just work, all right?”

He was right. Who was I to babysit him? He was an adult, after all.

For a moment, though, I saw a serious look on his face, and it seemed he wanted to say something. Then he shook his head and smiled again.

“Well, got to go. As you said, I should get some rest.”

“See you, Derek.”

With that, I continued on my run. Yet something hadn’t been right with him. I wondered if I should’ve confronted him after all. I considered turning around and run back to him. Then another thought crawled into my mind. Instead of running back to him, I could also make my way into the forest. I could check out this weird thing to see if it really was dangerous.

I’d already taken the first few steps in the forest’s direction when I stopped. What the hell was I doing? Where’d that weird impulse come from? There was no way I’d go back out there.

I didn’t get to see much of Derek from then on. The only times I saw him was when I ran into him by accident.

Each time, he looked worse, though. At first, he only looked restless and exhausted, but then other things about him changed. He looked thinner, haggard even, forcing his clothes to dangle from his body as if they were a size or two too big for him. His posture, too, was slumped over.

After another week, his face, too, had changed. His cheeks had fallen in, his lips had lost most of their color, and his eyes were bloodshot.

He looked sick, almost powerless, as he dragged himself on. Each time, I tried to find out what was wrong with him, but it was always the same story: It’s all because of work.

After three weeks, I had enough.

The tipping point was a talk I had with Mike. He told me he was worried about Derek as well. No way this was all just because of work. He was withering away right in front of us. Mike even told me that Melanie, Derek’s girlfriend, had talked to him. She hadn’t heard from Derek all week and had come to Mike to find out if he knew what was up with him.

As the two of us sat together, we knew what was going on. We had seen the euphoria on his face when he’d taken us to the woods. It had to do with that strange thing out there.

There was no way we could let him go on like this. We needed to talk to him.

I tried to call Derek to tell him we’d come over to his place, but as much as I tried, my call went straight to voicemail. Similarly, all messages I sent to him remained unread. It seemed he didn’t check his phone at all these days.

At nine on Saturday evening, Mike, Melanie, and I met up in front of Derek’s place.

I tried to call him once more, but as expected, got no answer. All the windows were dark, and when I rang the doorbell, no one answered. It seemed like he wasn’t home.

We considered searching for him, but then we decided to wait for him. He had to come home eventually, right?

Well, we were right. After almost an hour, we noticed him walking in our direction.

His posture was slumped, his feet shuffled over the floor, and we heard his wheezing long before we saw his face.

When he got closer, though, I saw he looked even worse. At first, he didn’t even realize we were there. Only once he’d taken out his keys to unlock his door did he notice us.

“What are you guys doing here?” he asked, confused.

His bloodshot eyes came to rest on us.

“Derek? Is that really you?” Melanie called out in a voice full of worry. “Oh my god, what happened to you?”

“It’s nothing, I’m all right.”

“Don’t give us that shit again,” I yelled at him.

Derek stared at me in surprise.

“Martin, what’s going on?”

“Listen, man, you look terrible. Something’s going on and it’s not nothing!”

“It’s that damn thing in the woods, isn’t it, Derek?” Mike started. “That disgusting-“

Mike didn’t get to finish his sentence.

“Don’t you dare talk about her like this! She’s got nothing to do with any of it! You don’t know what you’re talking about! How dare you-!”

He broke off, panting and coughing.

“What the hell are you guys even talking about?” Melanie asked, turning first to me, then Mike, and then back to Derek.

“Who is she, Derek? Is she the reason you’ve been avoiding me?”

Derek didn’t even look at her.

“That’s not it. I just… I can’t help it. She’s just so damn perfect.”

As he looked up, his haggard face was twisted into a ghastly smile and his eyes were wide open.

“She’s out of this world. There’s no way you, or anyone, could compare.”

Melanie took a step back, then another, and I saw the tears streaming from her eyes.

“You asshole!” she screamed at Derek. “Who is she? At least give me a freaking name!”

When Derek didn’t say a thing, Mike and I told her what we’d seen that morning. Melanie’s eyes grew wide, but then she started laughing.

“You guys can’t be for real. Who the hell would believe something as stupid as that? At least tell me the freaking truth!”

Once more, she stared each of us down. All the while, Derek was still mumbling to himself.

“Oh, she’s grown so much,” I heard him say.

“You guys are insane, each and every one of you!”

With that, Melanie walked away, shaking her head, still laughing.

“Would be best if we burned the damned thing, wouldn’t it?” Mike blurted out.

In an instant, Derek’s face changed to a mask of pure and utter rage.

“Don’t you dare joke about something like this, Mike!” Derek screamed at him.

“You think I’m joking?”

I stepped forward.

“Guys, calm down, we should all just-“

Before I could finish the sentence, Derek charged Mike.

Mike stayed where he was, not at all concerned. He was a tall, buff guy, easily double Derek’s weight. The moment Derek got closer, though, I saw something flash in his hand.

“Jesus Christ!” I called out.

Mike cursed and took a step back, and I saw him holding his right arm. Then I saw the pocket knife in Derek’s shaking hands.

Before I could do anything, Mike retaliated. He hit Derek straight in the face, sending him tumbling backward. When he hit the ground, the small pocket knife he’d been holding clattered away.

For a few seconds, Derek just lay there, but then he tried to push himself back up. I heard a nasty sound, and a moment later, Derek screamed in pain.

“Fucking serves you right!” Mike yelled at him before he walked away.

From where I was, I could see Derek sitting on the ground, looking at his right hand with wide eyes. The unnatural position made it clear that he’d broken his wrist.

By now, the lights in various other apartments had turned on, and not a few people had noticed the commotion below. The police arrived soon after, asking what had happened.

I made up a story about someone pushing Derek to the ground and him breaking his wrist. In the end, the police took our statements, and let me take him to the hospital.

On the way, Derek’s eyes were glued to his broken wrist.

“How in the hell,” he mumbled to himself. “I only tried to get up.”

For the first time, I heard honest concern in his voice. I knew what he was thinking. There was no way you’d break your wrist by getting up. Unless something’s seriously wrong with you.

At the hospital, a doctor confirmed that Derek’s wrist was indeed broken. The man’s primary concern, however, wasn’t Derek’s wrist, but his state.

All it took was one look at Derek to see that something was wrong with him. They urged him to stay for a few blood tests and a general examination, and once I joined in, Derek finally agreed.

I stayed with him for a bit, but around midnight, I told Derek I had to leave. I promised him, however, I’d be back the next day.

At first, I thought about telling the doctors about the weird organism Derek had found in the forest. Would they believe me, though? Then a second thought came to my mind. Should I even reveal the things existence?

I shook my head. I was way too exhausted. This whole evening had turned from a simple talk between friends to a hospitalization. I needed some sleep.

When I visited Derek the next day, he seemed to do much better. Sure, he looked as weak as before, but he appeared less exhausted and in a way better state of mind.

He told me the doctors had shared nothing yet, or they had no clue what was wrong with him. In the end, all they said was that Derek needed rest while they’d continue to run tests.

I didn’t say or ask anything about the weird thing in the forest, though. It was Derek himself who brought it up again.

“You guys were right. That thing is strange. I don’t know how, but it has this power over you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, but I just had to go back, you know? Even now, even knowing it’s bad, I want to go back and look and touch it again. That damned thing did something to me, Martin!”

I saw tears coming to his eyes.

“Shit, man, what if it’s cancer? What if I’m going to die because of it? I’m scared. I’m so goddamn scared. But then why do I still want to go back?”

“You’re going to be fine, don’t worry. It’s going to be all right.”

He nodded, but I could tell he didn’t believe it. He just sat there, in his bed, crying and shaking.

A nurse saw what was going on and told me it was better for me to leave. The most important thing for Derek right now was to rest.

When I returned to the hospital two days later, a nurse informed me that Derek was gone. They didn’t know what had happened and presumed he snuck out during the night.

I was speechless. How the hell could they let this happen? I cursed and was about to explode at the nurse, but then I thought about Derek. What the hell was he up to? Don’t tell me he’d gone out there again.

I instantly called Mike. It took a while before he answered the phone. I told him what was going on right away, and when he spoke, I heard the worry in his voice.

“He talked about nothing but that damned thing yesterday. I came to the hospital to see how he was doing and, well, to apologize for what happened. All he talked about was her, though. I thought he meant Melanie, but no. I told him to give it a rest and to forget about it. Didn’t think he’d go for real.”

“You think he went out there?”

“No doubt about it.”

“Shit, you think he’s all right? Can you-“

“Yeah, let’s find Derek and get rid of that thing once and for all!”

We arranged to meet in the forest an hour later.

As I drove from the hospital, I remembered something Derek had said.

“Oh, she’s grown so much.”

Only god knew what he meant by that, but if that thing really had grown bigger, I’d be damned to go there empty handed. I made a quick stop at home. I didn’t own any weapons, though. After a quick look around, I opted for a hammer and an axe, which I put in my backpack. I also grabbed a canister of gasoline. If nothing else worked, we could still burn it.

After this brief stop, I drove straight to the forest. Mike’s car was already there, but he was nowhere to be seen. I called him again, but god no answer. Shit, don’t tell me he went here without me!

“Freaking hell,” I cursed. “Why didn’t he wait for me?”

With fast steps, I stormed into the forest. Following the trail was easy enough, but after that, I had no clue where to go. I kept my eyes open for Mike, called out for him, but I got no answer. After almost half an hour, I finally found the small stream again.

I followed it for a while before I could see the group of boulders behind which the thing was hidden. I didn’t know what I’d find, or how big the thing was by now. After a few seconds of deliberation, I pulled the axe from my backpack.

From afar, I could already see dozens of the thing’s fleshy tentacles. They slithered over the forest floor and through the nearby underbrush. A shiver went down my spine when I saw how many there were by now.

Step by step, trying to be as quiet as I could, I went forward. I held my breath and watched out not to get anywhere near the tentacles. Finally, I stepped past the boulders. What I saw wasn’t just the fleshy thing. A person was here and the body type told me it wasn’t Derek.

No, it was Mike.

He was half-naked, his pants were around his ankles, and he stood there, hunched over the thing. Some of its tentacles weren’t just slithering over the ground. No, they were entangling his arms and legs. Something that looked like a strange, underdeveloped hand on the end of one tentacle held onto his arm. And Mike, he wasn’t just standing there. He was moving. It was rhythmically: back and forth, back and forth.

The tentacles entwined his half-naked body everywhere, almost as if caressing him. They began holding on to him with a firmer and firmer grip the longer the spectacle in front of me lasted.

By now, I could see how big the thing had become. It was almost bigger than Mike by now.

With each of Mike’s thrusts, it pulsated. For a moment, it seemed to convulse, and a disgusting, wet squeak emanated from it.

After my initial shock was gone, I finally realized what he was doing.

“Mike, what the hell are you-?” I started.

Then my disgust made me vomit all over the forest floor.

“Jesus Christ man, you-“

I couldn’t finish as another gush of vomit came up. Mike didn’t react at all. Instead, he kept at it, kept thrusting into the thing while I stood there, axe in hand, vomiting.

Finally, the tentacles pulled Mike in closer. They pressed hard against his body before they grew limp and fell to the ground. Mike, too, was panting, but then he pulled his pants back up and turned towards me.

“Didn’t think you’d be that early, Martin.”

“What? I’m early? What the hell are you talking about? Why are you…? I mean, with this thing?”

“Derek didn’t deserve her.”

When I looked at him, I saw his face had changed to the same euphoric visage I’d seen on Derek’s.

“What are you even talking about?”

“Does it matter?”

Then he pointed at the axe I was holding and the canister of gasoline.

“What are you planning to do with those?”

“I’m going to take care of this thing.”

I watched as some tentacles slithered toward me and I carefully retreated to get out of their reach.

“You think I’ll just let you do it?”

“What are you…? Why are you helping it?”

I couldn’t think straight. Nothing made sense anymore.

“You don’t see it, do you? She’s perfect. Absolute beauty that’s out of this world.”

It was exactly what Derek had said. Why the hell was Mike acting like this now, too?

My thoughts were cut off when he stepped aside. Now I could see the fleshy abomination in all its glory. I saw the lower tulip-like part. The flower petals were so much bigger now. Then I saw something else, something new on top. Half-hidden between the petals was a face. No, a head. The fleshy head of a woman that was growing from it.

For a moment, the thought that this skinless face with its fleshy hair was the most beautiful thing in the entire world came over me. A feeling of euphoria washed over me, my blood seemed to boil as attraction flooded through me. I wanted her to be mine, mine alone. Then I pushed the thought aside and snapped back to reality.

I couldn’t fathom what I’d just been thinking. All I saw in front of me now was a disgusting, otherworldly heap of grown together flesh and tentacles.

“Mike, you saw Derek at the hospital, right? You saw what that thing did to him! You want to end up like that, too?”

Slowly ever so slowly, Mike’s face changed to a ghastly smile before he pointed at something I hadn’t seen yet.

Discarded between the boulders was a withered, bluish, grey husk. It might have once been a human being, but now it was nothing but translucent skin stretched over bone. My eyes grew wide when I saw it.

“Oh god, no, don’t tell me…”

Mike began laughing.

“You want to know why he came here? I made him go. He didn’t want to, but it was so easy to convince him. I only had to tell him how beautiful she’d become and that she was waiting for him. I knew he couldn’t fight the urge and would go back, eventually.”

“Why the hell did you do that?!”

“She needs nutrients to grow. It’s so she can become her true self. Derek was perfect, and so was Melanie.“

“Melanie, don’t tell me…”

I couldn’t believe it, but Mike merely shrugged.

“After our little fight on Saturday, I went to talk to her. I told her what we’d said was the truth and I could show her the thing. Oh, and I did.”

“You… you lured her out here as well? You brought her to this, this thing over there? Didn’t you say yourself that it was-?”

“Don’t say it! That was before I saw her for what she really is! After Derek brought us here, I just had to come back. I almost made the greatest mistake of my life, but then, then I saw. This endless beauty. I knew right away Derek didn’t deserve her. She’d be mine, and I’d make sure she’d become even more beautiful!”

“You know you’re going to be next, right? Wake the fuck up, Mike! That thing’s going to suck you dry just like it did Derek!”

“Oh, but someone else’s already here.”

For a second, I looked around. Then I realized what he meant. That’s why the bastard had told me we should come here.

Before I could say anything, he rushed me. He was fast, way too fast. I could do nothing. In an instant, he was in front of me and rammed his knee into my stomach. I crashed to the ground gagging.

“You should see it as an honor,” he started, grinning down at me. “You’re going to become part of a perfect organism.”

I was on the ground, trying desperately to breathe.

“You’re insane!” I finally spat at him.

At that, Mike only laughed.

“Maybe, but does it matter?”

I fought myself up to my feet, only to be hit again. Then he pushed me forward, straight towards the fleshy abomination.

Instantly, its many tentacles slithered over the ground towards me. I felt something on my right leg, and when I stared down, I saw a three-fingered, half-developed hand cling to it. I tried to shake it off, tried to get away, but it held me in place with an iron-hard grip. Then another tentacle entangled my other leg. The slimy thing slithered higher and higher before it closed around my thigh.

More and more of the disgusting tentacles got a hold of me. I struggled, I fought, but the more I did, the harder their hold got. I screamed, when I could feel them twist my limbs, could feel them dig into my flesh.

There was nothing I could do, nothing. Then, I remembered the axe. Where was it, where the hell was it? I’d dropped it when Mike rushed me. My eyes darted around, here and there in a panic. Finally I saw it.

I threw myself on the ground, dug my fingers into the earth and finally reached it. By now, the pain was almost unbearable. Then, I brought the axe down on the strange hand holding onto my leg. Over and over I hit it.

The blade of the axe went through the flesh as if it was nothing. A mixture of zap and blood gushed from the tentacle it had been connected to.

In a frenzy, I hacked at the other tentacles holding onto me. Some I cut apart, others retreated from me.

Mike, who turned away, who’d gone over to caress and kiss the thing, spun back to me in sheer rage.

“The hell you think you’re doing? Why are you hurting her?!”

In a fit of rage, he threw himself at me again. I lifted the axe, tried to hit him, but he pushed my arm to the ground with ease. Then he was on top of me, pinning me to the ground. While he held the axe in place, his other hand closed around my throat. I hit him with my free left hand, hit him in the face again and again, but in his rage, he didn’t even seem to feel it.

Dots appeared in front of my eyes and my vision became blurry. Right at that moment, I remembered the hammer in my backpack. With a last surge of energy, I twisted my body and pulled the hammer from the backpack.

This time, it was Mike who didn’t have time to react. I flung the hammer from behind my back and right against the side of his head.

He screamed up in pain and blood gushed from his temple. He was staggering and in an instant I hit him again.

Then, he pushed my left hand to the ground as well. It was with such force, the hammer clattered away. He was way too strong. Even now, even with a bloody wound on his head, he still hadn’t passed out. He wasn’t even staggering anymore.

No, he pinned my arms to the ground with his knees and then closed both of his hands around my throat.

I couldn’t breathe. The last thing I saw before the world grew dark, was Mike’s bloody, rage-filled face.

Then Mike screamed in surprise. As light came back to my world, I saw that the thing’s many tentacles had come back, but this time for Mike.

“No, what are you doing? It’s me! It’s me!”

He was out of it. He screamed up again and again, struggling against the tentacles who held onto his body. Yet he had no chance and a moment later the thing dragged him backward.

For a moment, the thing’s face just stared at him. Then, the full, fleshy lips parted to reveal a tongue covered in an innumerable amount of feelers. A moment later, the tongue found the bloody wound on his head.

I watched in disgust and wonder, as the feelers turned from a fleshy, almost translucent pink to the dark red of blood.

Mike screamed, started shaking and finally convulsing as the blood was sucked from his body. Within seconds, his strong, muscular body turned into a withered husk. Eventually, the thing’s tongue retreated, and it threw aside what remained of him.

I crawled away and picked up the axe once more. I was afraid that any moment now, the tentacles would come for me, pull me in just as they’d done with Mike. Instead, they all pulled back, retreated to the thing’s body.

The fleshy mess in front of me started pulsating and growing as it morphed into a new iteration of itself. I saw how the fleshy petals changed form and how the face pushed itself out further. I could now see the first signs of a body. There was a neck, then shoulders. It was nothing but a fleshy mess, as if someone had put random pieces of meat together to resemble a human body. And yet, it was such a disgustingly beautiful mess.

I picked up the can of gasoline again. I had to destroy that thing, I had to.

As I stood there, however, I couldn’t deny how beautiful she was. She was perfection. Now that I finally looked at her, I saw what Derek and Mike had seen.

I felt myself being drawn forward. It was as if I was in a trance and not in control of my body anymore. Step by step I went closer towards it. I saw the fleshy face smile at me. The air was heavy with the smell of rose petals, the smell of summer. It was almost a promise, a promise that this otherworldly beauty would be mine.

As I took yet another step, I suddenly bumped into something. I looked down, only to see Mike’s empty shriveled up face. It stared at me, a visage frozen in pain and terror. This would be me, I realized. If I stayed here, this was what waited for me.

I had to get away. I forced myself to shut my eyes, turned around and ran, to get away from this abominations influence.

As my legs drove me on, I rushed past trees and bushes. Even though, my body still wasn’t entirely my own. With each steps, my muscles, my entire body was protesting, trying to pull me back, to turn around.

Yet I knew if I were to lay eyes on it again, I could not escape. No, I’d be lost to this things will completely.

I was home half an hour later. I remember little about the way back.

Now, that I’m home, I don’t know what to do. I’ve been trying to distract myself, but it’s not working.

With each minute, with each passing second, my mind is being filled with more images of her beauty. My chest is heavy with an endless longing.

I don’t know how long I can resist that abomination’s call. No, her call. I’m restless, shaking, but also smiling. I’m almost in the same state of euphoria Derek and Mike were.

All I can think about is her.

I called an acquaintance of mine. I said I had to show him something in the forest.

After all, she does need nutrients to grow.

Faces

Growing up in rural areas is nothing like growing up in a city.

I can’t say what it is. Maybe it is the remoteness of small villages, perhaps the low population or the closeness to nature. There is something that makes strange things more likely to happen.

By now I am living in an urban area, near the center of a big city. Things are different here. There are always other people around, and the buzzing noise of the city is a constant companion.

Not so in rural areas. The nights there are dominated by only one thing, silence. The only things you hear are the occasional rustling of a tree in the wind or the sounds of small animals. More often though, there is no sound at all. No cars, no people, not a thing.

The same is true for light. In a city, there are various light sources. There are street lights, cars, billboards and even neon lights. Wherever you are, you’ll seldom end up in pure darkness.

In the village I grew up in, nights are genuinely dark. There is no light around. The only thing illuminated at night is the small village church. If it were one of those rare starless nights, you’d be in almost pure darkness.

As a kid, I was never bothered by it. When night fell, I was either inside or already in bed. The few times I was out late, I was with family or other adults around.

When I got older though, that changed. I’d often hang out with friends long past midnight. It was during this time that I learned just how creepy going home at night can be.

I had to walk along a dark, empty road in complete darkness. Often no one was awake anymore. Only dark, old buildings surrounded me. There was no light and the only sound was my own reverberating steps. It was eerie.

Every sound I heard would make me twitch and wonder what it was. Often it was the wind or a cat. There were a few times though when I didn’t know what it was. Breaking twigs or shuffling steps nearby almost always send me home racing.

What was even worse though, was seeing something strange. I once saw a shade standing in a neighbor’s garden, not moving at all. On another night I was sure I saw a figure watching me from atop a tree not too far away. I always ignored those things. I told myself, it was my imagination, fueled by alcohol and too many horror movies.

There was one time though when I didn’t ignore it.

The lower part of my village is older than the rest. It is nothing but a handful of buildings nested into a small forest.

I knew that it used to be a beautiful area, but even when I was a kid, not all the buildings were inhabited anymore. By the time I was a teenager it was only a single old lady that still lived in the area.

The only reason that ever brought me there was the trail that led past those houses. It was a shortcut to a neighboring village, where my best friend at the time lived.

At daytime, it was no big deal to go there, especially since I had a moped by then. At night, it was a whole other story.

As so often, I stayed at my friend’s way too long. We had few beers with friends and long past midnight I made my way home. Being tired already, I told myself I’d take the shortcut. I’d save more than a quarter of an hour that way!

As I approached the lower area of the village, I saw lights ahead. I wondered why the old lady would be awake at a time like this. Then the thought that her house might be on fire came to my mind.

As I got closer though, those fears changed to confusion. The lights weren’t coming from her building. It was a building on the other side of the small trail.

For a moment I wondered if someone had moved back in. Or someone had bought one of the buildings to renovate it?

When I saw the building though, none of this made any sense. It was one of the more run-down buildings and almost in a ruined state. Only a few lonely places on the wall were still covered by plaster. The front door was rotten, hanging open and barely clinging to the frame.

The windows too were empty, bare of any curtains and even glass for that matter.

As I stood on the trail, everything else around me was nothing but dark forms. The only thing I could make out in the darkness was the building ablaze in front of me.

No that wasn’t right, I thought, it was only the upper floor that was alight. Inside I could see shadows dancing on the walls.

Could it be some local kids? There was a group a few years younger than me, who were often up to some sort of shenanigans.

If it was them though, where were their bikes? If they’d come all the way down here, I doubt they had walked.

What made the whole thing even stranger was the absence of any sounds. I was listening to music, but as I took my headphones off, I realized that the night was tranquil. The only thing I could hear was the low humming of my moped below.

I watched the weird shadows and shades that were still moving around. I was almost in a trance when they stopped all of a sudden. When they had all vanished, I felt fear rising inside of me. What the hell was even going on here?

Soon I saw someone or something move by one of the empty windows. Then I saw a face looking down at me from one of its upper corners.

The face was weird, unsettling. The moment I saw it, I knew something was wrong. It was a young man’s face. It had all the parts a face had: two eyes, a nose, a mouth, ears, and so on. They were all unremarkable. It was as if the man’s face was empty. There was no change in his expression as he watched me. It showed no emotions. His eyes were a little too wide, his mouth hung open a bit, but other than that it was completely neutral.

I felt my skin crawl. Then I wondered how tall the man must be if his face was that high up. And how did I not see his body?

For a moment, in my confusion, I rose an awkward hand and waved to the man. It was nonsensical, but I hoped, that whoever it was, would return the greeting. To show it was a normal person, like me. Nothing at all happened. The face stayed the way it was. The lights behind it remained the same.

Then a second face appeared at the next window. Then two more popped up, at other, similarly strange places as the first one. Soon it was almost a dozen of them. They all stared at me. None of them said a word.

Within a second of seeing them all, I started the moped and drove home as fast as I could in a state of utter fear. It was not the absence of sound, neither was it the weird blazing lights, nor the odd position of these faces.

It was the fact that every single one of them was exactly the same.

I Built a Shrine for the Good Spirits of the Land

There are things out there, much older and many times smarter than man.

Ah, the farm life. It’s hard, but satisfactory. There’s nothing like working your own land and see it bear fruit.

I’ve been a farmer all my life. I grew up on the family farm and ever since I could walk, I helped wherever I could.

After my grandparents died, my parents took over and once I’d finished my nine mandatory years of schooling, I began working at the farm with them.

As a young man, I’d often wondered if that was all life offered. Many of my childhood friends had left our small village community behind and had moved to the big city. The thought of what such a different life would hold in store for me was a constant companion those first few years on the farm.

When I met Maria, all that changed. She was a village girl who’d started working on our farm. It didn’t take long for the two of us to get close. Only a year later, we got married and Maria moved in with me. She bore me two sons, Daniel and John.

Life was good, but as we all know, it seldom lasts forever.

My mother withered away because of an aggressive type of cancer. It changed my father forever. He used to be a happy, jolly man, but after her death, he turned into an old cynic who spent all his time working on the farm.

Yet an old man can only work from morning till evening for so long. Four years after my mother’s death, he collapsed and got himself into a terrible accident. He shattered one of his hips and was left permanently crippled.

From that point onward, it was only me who could work on the farm. Maria helped wherever she could, but most of her time was spent taking care of the kids.

Things were hard during that time. I couldn’t work all the fields on my own, and we even had to sell part of our livestock. Still, we somehow made it through and adapted.

As they say, though, when it rains, it pours, and our personal misfortunes should only be the beginning.

New trends and technological improvements made us less than competitive with other farmers.

Even worse, however, was the ever-rising popularity of all-organic crops. I considered the switch myself, but we couldn’t afford it. Our farming equipment was old-fashioned, and we relied on using cheap, traditional fertilizer.

It wouldn’t have been a big deal, if not for the young and hip people who began flooding the local farmer’s markets. Following new trends, they stayed clear of cheap discounters and supermarkets. What they wanted were local, fresh, but most importantly, all-organic crops. They wouldn’t even look twice at our market stand and many times Maria returned, having barely sold anything.

Sure, we had our regulars, but few of them ever made the long trip to our farm. Most of our customers found us at the local farmer’s markets, but many of the older people avoided the more popular ones since they’d become gathering grounds for millennials.

We considered shipping our products, but this would shrink our narrow profit margin even further.

The last straw was the arrival of products from big, organic farmers in our area. There was no way we could compete with their prices and soon enough, local stores replaced our products with their much cheaper ones.

In 2016, I grudgingly went all-organic as well. The adjustments, however, forced me to invest heavily in new technology, as well as organic fertilizer, and thus lending me heavily in debt.

I kept quiet about all of this in front of Maria, but I talked to dad about it. Being the old cynic he was, he said, as things looked now, the farm was as good as finished. I could do nothing but agree with him. Another year like this, and we’d be finished.

2017 started off well, but it soon became clear that luck just wasn’t on our side. While I worked as hard as I could, dad had lost hope long ago. It was no use, he said, shaking his head. Not this year.

Before long, he proved to be right. The weather that year was terrible. It was too hot or too cold. At some times, the fields were flooded, at others, there was no rain for weeks. It didn’t matter how hard I worked; it didn’t matter how much of the new organic fertilizer I used. Even the new farming equipment seemed entirely useless. Our crops just didn’t grow.

As I went over the books, I had to face the sad reality. There was no hope of paying our debt. Hell, there was no hope of breaking even.

One night in late spring, I finally confessed our situation to Maria. She was furious, understandably so, and bombarded me with questions. Why hadn’t I told her earlier? What had I been thinking? We had to sell the farm? Neither of us had learned a trade, so what would we even do? Where would we live? She continued on, and when I couldn’t answer any of her questions, she went to bed with tears of frustration streaming down her face.

After that, I was too agitated to even think of sleep. Instead, I went for a walk around the farm.

I followed the path along the fields and let my eyes wander over the place that had been my home for over four decades. Over to the right was the field of my very first harvest. I smiled when I saw the wide meadows further ahead. Every summer, as a kid, I’d led the cows out there to graze. Even the path I walked on right now was full of memories. It was the place I’d first asked Maria out at.

Was that really it? I couldn’t believe it. I really had to leave this place and all my memories behind? Wasn’t there anything I could do?

As I stood there, frustrated and staring up at the night sky, I remembered a story my grandpa had told me when I was a little boy.

Back in the day, he’d told me, when farmers were in dire need, they’d built small shrines for fair folk, or as he called them, the good spirits. They’d fill them with offerings hoping to exchange them for their help.

I smiled at this story.

Looking back, I can’t say why I did it, but desperation works in strange ways. The farm was lost either way. And so, I spent the next hour building a small wooden shrine, hidden between a few trees behind the farmhouse. It was nothing much, just a wooden overhang with a small table below. On this table, I placed two candles and an ornate plate containing an assortment of our vegetables as an offering.

Once I was done, and unsure what to do, I went down on my knees, put my hands together, and closed my eyes in prayer.

“If you help this farm, oh good spirits,” I started, but didn’t know how to continue.

What the hell was I even doing? This was stupid. Yet, after a while, I came up with something: “I give you a share of the fruits of my land.”

Raising my voice, I recited the entire prayer once more.

“If you help this farm, oh good spirits, I give you a share of all the fruits of my land.”

For a long time, I remained in this praying position, and repeated the prayer a few more times. Soon enough, I noticed just how exhausted I was. Before I knew, and still in the same position, I felt myself drifting off to sleep.

While asleep in front of the small shrine, I had the strangest of dreams. It was hazy, disjointed, and confusing. I found myself still in front of the table, but it was all so different. Nothing but thick, all-engulfing darkness surrounded me, almost as if I’d been transported to a different realm.

Then, one by one, several tiny creatures emerged from the surrounding darkness. Some looked like people, some had fluorescent wings, others reminded me of dwarfs or gnomes, and yet others were strange mixtures of beast and man.

At first, I saw only a handful, but within moments, there were hundreds, shuffling and pushing against each other all around me.

They seemed to shift and flicker, there for one moment, and gone the next. Suddenly, a small, stout man appeared on the other side of the table. He was bald and had small, shiny eyes that reminded me of buttons. His face showed a big, jolly smile. I remembered laughing at how silly he looked.

The next moment, I was holding a document in my hand. Strange symbols covered it, but they soon changed and I found myself able to read them. Or maybe they stayed the same, and I learned to understand them?

“For my help, a share of all the fruits of thy land belongs to me,” I read out loud the crudely written line.

All the beings around me jubilated, but I was still laughing, not understanding what was happening.

Then, I held a quill, I didn’t remember picking up, in my hand.

“What is this?” I asked the being in front of me. “A contract?”

The stout man continued to smile with the same jolly expression, but gave me an enthusiastic nod. Eventually, without thinking, I moved the quill towards the document and signed it.

The stout man gave me another happy nod before his small eyes began glowing in a radiant orange light, and his smile grew wider and wider. Before I could even react, I awoke on the ground in front of the small shrine.

One look at my watch told me it was long past three in the morning. I sighed. All of this was too much for me. I’d fallen asleep out here and dreamed of little people.

When I finally made it to bed, I cursed at myself, knowing I’d get only two hours of actual sleep that night.

Around noon the next day, I had the chance to look at the shrine. I had told no one about it, of course, and frankly, I wouldn’t. I was too embarrassed to admit that my desperation had driven me to give into fairy tales and nonsense. To my surprise, however, the offerings I’d placed on the table were entirely gone.

For a moment, I remembered the strange dream, but then I shook my head. Must’ve been wild animals. Probably squirrels or raccoons, I reasoned.

“Well, at least someone’s profiting from all this,” I mumbled to myself.

In the evening, after dinner, I went out to the shrine once more and placed another little offering on it. Why? I don’t even know. I guess, against all logical sense and reason, I was still hoping my grandpa’s story was true. As I said, desperation works in strange ways, and I was nothing but desperate.

When I checked it again, the next day, the offerings were gone again.

And so, I kept it up, leaving out a select few vegetables every night, knowing fair well I was most likely doing nothing but feeding a bunch of hungry raccoons.

Two weeks after, however, I noticed the crops started improving.

At first, I told myself that my hard work must’ve paid off, but soon I couldn’t deny that something else was at work here. The crops improved at a level that was unnatural, impossible even. Two weeks ago, they’d been nothing but tiny withered things, and now they were full and healthy.

Each week, Maria and I could pick basket after basket of fresh tomatoes, cucumbers, and zucchinis. The potatoes and other crops, too, grew to sizes I’d never thought possible.

Maria told me that more and more people got attracted to our products each week. Sure, our prices were higher than those of the corporate farmers, but our quality was much better. At least, that’s what people said.

I’d never dreamed things would go so well.

When the harvest was over, things had made a complete turnaround. To my surprise, we had not only broken even, but we’d even made a handsome profit.

That same night, I went back to the little shrine and placed an especially big offering on it.

“With this offering here,” I said in celebration, “I thank you spirits for this harvest.”

I didn’t doubt anymore. No, that dream, as unbelievable as it was, had been real.

Finally, I made another promise:

“Next year, if you help me again, I’ll bring you offerings once more.”

After that, I left the little shrine behind and went to bed. For the first time in over two years, I was content. We weren’t rich by any means, but we’d been able to pay off a substantial part of our accumulated debt. Most importantly, though, we could keep the farm.

When I fell asleep, it was with a happy smile on my face.

The following night, Maria woke me up. She told me there was a ruckus out by the chicken coop.

I threw on some clothes and made my way outside.

“Must be a marten or a fox,” I said to myself as I ran towards the building.

As I opened the door, flashlight in hand, I was greeted by absolute chaos. The hens were out of it. As I shined the beam of the flashlight around, however, I couldn’t find the intruder. Neither did I find the place from which he might have entered. Yet, as I counted the hens, two of them were definitely missing.

I was quite confused when I returned inside and told Maria what I’d found, or hadn’t.

The next day, during daytime, I checked the coop once more, this time more thoroughly, but still found nothing.

“Where did you enter from, you damned fox?”

As I turned the whole place upside down, I also noticed that all the eggs were gone. This was getting stranger and stranger.

That evening, I stayed up and waited in the living room. I was fully dressed, had the lights turned down and my eyes were glued to the window.

“Where are you, mister fox?” I asked, as I kept checking the meadows around the house.

As the hours turned by, I slowly felt myself getting sleepy. I needed coffee. Just as I boiled some water, a noise erupted from outside.

Cursing, I rushed down the stairs. Once outside, I ran across the farm and towards the chicken coop.

When I was about a dozen meters away from it, the door burst open and a stout little man came outside.

His head was completely bald. His eyes were tiny buttons, and glowed in a menacing, orange light. The rest of his face was all mouth, an unnaturally wide mouth that stretched from ear to ear. As the man left the coop, I saw how bloated he was. The end of a hen’s wing protruded from his mouth, only to vanish moments later.

For a few seconds, I could only stare at the sight in front of me.

“What the fuck…?” escaped my mouth.

The weird, hazy dream returned to me. I remembered the being who’d been at the other side of the table. It had been a stout, but jolly little man.

The figure I saw now looked similar, but more like a mocking, malevolent caricature. It was a disgusting abomination, much too fat to be human. Looking at it made my skin crawl.

When the glowing button eyes came to rest on me, a wave of fear washed over me and I flinched.

“A share of all the fruits of thy land belongs to me,” it said in a deep, rumbling voice.

I stood there, dumbfounded, my mouth hanging open in terrified astonishment. Without even waiting for a reaction, the creature turned around and walked away into the darkness.

When the sheer surprise and absurdity of the situation left me, I took a few steps in the same direction, but the creature had vanished.

Then, remembering why I’d come out, I rushed inside the chicken coop. I counted the hens again, and only seven of them were left, less than half of them.

Even when I was back in the house, I didn’t understand what had happened, what I’d just seen. The only thing that came to my mind were the words the creature had said:

“A share of all the fruits of thy land belongs to me.”

It reverberated inside my mind. It could only mean one thing. This was the spirit, or the being I’d signed the contract with and which had blessed my land. Wasn’t the contract finished, though? I’d paid the creature every single night with those offerings, right? So why was it returning now?

Back in the living room, I noticed Maria was up. She saw the state I was in and asked what had happened. I told her it had been a fox, and that he’d torn apart half the hens in the coop, but I’d got rid of it. For a couple of seconds, she just stared at me. She must’ve noticed my expression and how out of it I was. I was about to open my mouth and add another part to the lie, but eventually, she let it go and went back to bed.

That night, I didn’t sleep. I was too scared, too confused. When the picture of the stout little man came back to me, I couldn’t help but shiver.

If there still hadn’t been only seven hens in the morning, I would’ve written off last night’s events as nothing but a weird nightmare. Seeing how scared those remaining seven hens were, however, I had to face reality.

Before I did anything else that day, however, I rushed to the shrine and placed a small offering on it.

The next night, I waited in the living room again, scared to see the creature roaming our farm again, but all stayed quiet. In the morning, Maria woke me up on a chair in the living room and handed me a strong cup of coffee.

Once I was fully awake, I went to check the coop. It was undamaged, and all seven hens were still there.

After that, I hurried to the shrine. The offering was gone.

From this day onward, I put out offerings again, same as I’d done before. I couldn’t risk that creature appearing at the farm again.

As so often, though, things never go as planned.

The first time the creature returned, we were visiting Maria’s parents. We hadn’t planned to stay over for the night, but a terrible, raging storm made a return to the farm impossible. I was out of it, but there was no way I could risk driving during such weather.

When we made it back, I wasn’t prepared for what we’d find. I was afraid that more of the chickens would be gone. Hell, to find the entire coop empty, but it was much, much worse. The entire coop was in shambles.

Maria put her hand over her mouth in shock and the kids next to her began asking what had happened. Dad, on the other hand, cursed the damned storm for destroying the coop. Only I knew what had really happened.

The rest of the farm was in prime condition. Nothing else was missing or damaged. After a while, I returned to the coop and began sorting through the rubble, not even sure what I was trying to find. Dad watched for a few minutes before he walked up to me and put his hand on my shoulder.

“Leave it alone son, nothing you can do about it,” he said in a well-meaning voice.

The second time the creature returned, Daniel got into an accident in the middle of October. He got a nasty cut on his leg while playing outside and I rushed him to the hospital. The doctors assured me it was nothing life-threatening, but he’d have to stay the night to make sure everything was okay.

Once I’d heard that, I called Maria right away to give her the good news. Then, I told her about the shrine I’d built and instructed her to put out some vegetables. When she asked why, laughing, I simply told her to do it. It was important.

When I returned to the farm the next day, Maria was more than happy to have Daniel back. She looked exhausted, and I could tell she must’ve been worried sick.

On my way to the farmhouse, I saw dad outside. He was livid and cursed at something. Without a moment’s hesitation, I ran over to him to find him standing in front of the barn.

“Someone must’ve broken in,” he told me, and pointed at the door.

Suddenly, I felt very cold.

When I stepped past the broken door, the iron smell of blood hit me right away. I stumbled back a few steps and almost vomited. After a few moments, however, I covered my mouth and hurried back inside. I saw it right away. The cowshed had been ravaged, and all the milking equipment had been destroyed. The worst by far, however, was the floor. It was awash with blood, and here and there, I could see torn pieces of cowhide. For a few more moments, I just stared at the massacre in front of me before I rushed back outside. This time, I vomited.

Why had this happened? I’d told Maria to put out an offering, hadn’t I? Don’t tell me…

Once I’d gotten my composure back, I ran back to her and the boys.

“Did you put out the offering like I told you?”

She only stared at me, clearly confused.

“What are you talking about, Steven?”

“When I called you yesterday, I told you to put out some vegetables on the plate in that shrine, didn’t I?”

For a moment she was quiet, thinking.

“Oh yeah, that. Why’d I-“

“Oh for god’s sake Maria!” I cut her off. “I told you it was important! How could you just… Fuck!”

John and Daniel looked up at me with wide eyes, and I could see how Maria’s expression changed from surprise to anger.

“All right, mister, you better not speak to me like that, especially in front of the boys. And you better tell me what this is all about!”

From the corner of my eye, I saw dad, who gave me a similarly angry look.

Once it was evening, and we’d tucked in the kids, I finally told them what I’d done.

Maria gave me a look of sheer disbelief.

“The good… spirits? Are you sure you’re okay, Steven? Do you have a fever or something?”

As she said this, she was about to reach out for me, but I was quick to shake my head.

“But then what are you talking about?” she asked, laughing. “How do you think anyone could…?”

“Well, what do you think happened at the barn, Maria?”

“Maybe someone broke in, and… god, I don’t know!”

“You know, boy,” dad interrupted our argument with a stern look on his face. “My father never told you the full story, the real one. Those stories are a warning. That’s what they are!”

“A warning? What are you talking about, dad?”

“Well boy, back in the day, many tried their luck with the fair folk, but all came to regret it. They all learned one thing. There’s no fair folk here, only evil spirits.”

Maria had listened, but began laughing once more, shaking her head.

“Oh, come on, you two can’t be serious! Both of you must’ve gone crazy!”

When neither of us said a word, she jumped off her chair.

“This better be some kind of stupid joke,” she snapped at us before she left the room.

I could hear her laughing as she went on her way to bed, but her laughter sounded forced and had a noticeable edge to it.

“Did grandpa ever mention how to get rid of these… things?”

“No,” dad answered in a low voice. “Boy, why’d you have to toy around with things like this, goddammit! We should’ve just sold the farm and-“

“You’d just given up the farm without even trying? Is that what mom would’ve wanted?”

“Don’t you dare, boy, don’t you dare,” he brought out in a cold, barely restrained voice.

In his rage, he tried to get up and almost crashed to the floor. He clung to the edge of the table, his entire body trembling.

“Dad, what are you-?” I started, trying to help him up, but he swatted my hand aside.

For a few more moments, he just stared at me. Once he’d gotten back on his feet, he left the room without saying another word. I could hear his steps and the clicking of his crutches as he made his way to his part of the house.

With that, I was alone, sitting in the living room all by myself. Was dad right? Had I truly cursed this place? No, there had to be something we could do!

For now, I’d just continue to put out offerings.

During the next week, dad and I didn’t talk. He kept to himself, isolated in his part of the house, and whenever he saw me, he’d stare me down before walking away.

Maria talked to me like always, but I noticed the way she stared at me.

“You’re still keeping this up?” she asked one day, when she’d followed me to the shrine.

I could hear the annoyance in her voice. Instead of answering, I simply ignored her. I had tried to talk to Maria a few more times, but as soon as I mentioned evil spirits, she refused to listen to another word.

One night, in early November, a thundering noise from downstairs woke me. I almost jumped out of the bed and was wide awake in an instant.

“What the hell was that?”

Maria had woken up, too.

“Do you think it’s the heating system?” she asked.

My eyes grew wide. The thing had acted up before and it had cost us thousands in repairs.

I rushed down the stairs and went straight to the boiler room. Everything was fine. No damage to the oven, no burst pipes, nothing.

Oh no, don’t tell me.

I continued on to the back of the house. There we kept the boy’s pet bunnies and the few pigs we’d raised.

I instantly noticed the destruction. The backdoor had been torn from its hinges and stood wide open. The rabbit hutch had been destroyed, and the small pig pen was nothing but rubble.

Right in the middle of all this chaos stood a stout, round figure.

I didn’t know what to do. I just stood there, frozen to the ground, not able to do anything but stare at it.

“Who the hell-!?” Maria yelled, when she came to a halt next to me.

She took one more step forward, but stopped again when she saw the unnatural, monstrous proportions of the figure in front of us.

It was too wide, almost comically so. That thing, that creature, had it gotten… bigger?

I watched in horror as it turned towards us, a malicious grin on his face. Something was still moving by its feet. It was one of the pigs! Maria and I could only watch as it picked it up with both hands and brought it up towards its face.

Then the creature opened its giant maw of a mouth. I saw saliva and uneven, brick-sized teeth. A moment later, it swallowed the animal whole. The glowing button eyes came to rest on us. I watched as its enormous jaw moved and heard the sickening sounds of bone breaking and flesh tearing. Then, just like before, the creature simply turned around and vanished from the back door, just like it had done before.

I didn’t understand what was going on. I’d left an offering! Why’d it come back?

As I racked my brain about what sort of mistake I’d made, Maria slumped to the ground in tears.

“I didn’t think it was… I thought,” she mumbled between sobs.

She was trembling, totally out of it. I closed my arms around her, pushing her against my chest, trying desperately to calm her down.

“I didn’t mean to,” she kept saying.

“Maria, babe, what are you talking about?”

“The vegetables, I didn’t mean to, but-“

She broke up, not able to finish what she’d been about to say, but I understood instantly.

“Wait, are you saying you took the offering?”

“Yes, goddammit, I did! Who would’ve thought this, this… whatever this is, is real!”

She gesticulated toward the still open back door.

“All that talk about fairies and spirits, I just couldn’t take it anymore. I thought you’d become delusional and to prove it to you… I thought nothing would happen! Oh god, I didn’t mean for any of this!”

I couldn’t believe it. I was mad. Hell, I was furious, but how could I blame her? No one would’ve believed a story like this.

Daniel and John, most likely awoken by the noise, came down, followed by dad who called out to them to come back. They looked around, not sure what was going on, but Maria quickly ushered them back upstairs. For a moment, dad took in the chaos before he simply shook his head and left without another word.

Before I went upstairs myself, I had a look at the damage. There were no traces of any animals, except for the oldest of the bunnies, the mother. The poor thing was out of it, panting and shaking. I did pet it for a bit, but I knew the animal wouldn’t live long after this night. Yet, why’d the creature not eaten this one?

I didn’t get to think about it for too long because I soon noticed something even worse. The thing had raided the storage room. Almost all that remained of the harvest was gone.

As I gathered up what few vegetables remained, the number didn’t even come down to thirty. Even if I offered only one per day, they wouldn’t even last a month. What then? I didn’t even want to think about it.

Yet, what could I do? Then, I got an idea. It wanted fruits of the land, right? So that’s what it would get.

A few days later, I made my way to one of the weekly farmers’ markets. While we at our farm didn’t do winter farming, some of the neighboring farmers did. Local crops were always available for sale.

This had to work, I told myself, as I put out an assortment comprising various vegetables I’d bought at the market.

In the early morning hours, the gruesome screams of my father reached mine and Maria’s ears, as well as those of the kids. It was the worst thing I’d ever heard in my entire life. The kids’ eyes were wide as they huddled behind their mother, crying.

Maria looked at me in utter terror, but I ignored everything as I rushed for my dad’s part of the house.

I found the door to the bedroom wide open.

“Dad?” I asked in a quivering voice, but received no answer.

I told myself he might have fallen when trying to get back to bed, or maybe he’d had a stroke. Deep inside, however, I already knew the answer.

The moment I stepped into his bedroom, the moment I saw the blood and the smell hit me, I knew it was true. The bedding was wet with his blood and other fluids. And yet, in my desperation, in my hope, I still searched for him, still hoped to find him huddled under the bed, or in a corner. But even as minute after minute passed, I found nothing, nothing but a small, crumbled up note.

“A share of all the fruits of thy land belongs to me.”

It was written in crude, bloody letters, and a half-insane laugh escaped me when I was reminded of a young child’s finger painting.

After the shock wore off and the reality of the situation truly hit me, I noticed something else. The emphasis on the word thy. It had been written much bigger and bolder than any other, and I knew what it meant. It wanted a share of things I’d created. Things I’d grown on my land. As I stood there, I realized what a stupid mistake I’d made. I tried to cheat it, and, of course, the creature had noticed it.

And dad was the one who’d to pay for it.

As the tears streamed down my face, I screamed at myself for being so goddamn stupid. What dad had said was right: we were cursed.

As soon as Maria heard what had happened, she took the kids and left. I didn’t argue. No, I encouraged her to go. Daniel and John didn’t understand what was going on, of course. They asked what had happened to grandpa and why they had to leave. We told them, grandpa had just had a bad dream, and they’d be going on a brief vacation. They’d stayed with Maria’s parents for a while.

Maria pleaded with me the come with her, but I told her I had to stay. There had to be a way to stop all this. God knows what this creature would do if I tried to run.

Each day, I put out one vegetable as an offering, and each day my remaining supply was dwindling. I spent long nights on the internet, searching and googling. I asked questions and read articles on old folklore. Yet, I found nothing that could help me. Nothing at all.

As the days turned to weeks, despair took hold of me. More than once, I thought about taking the car and to drive from the farm. What would happen, though? Would that thing come after me? Or worse, would it come after my family?

In the end, I told Maria I’d stay, hoping to end it all. She cried, screamed and protested, but I told her there was no other way. I was the one who’d started it all, who’d brought this upon us, and it was only fair that it should end with me.

Then, one day, there was nothing left. I’d given it all the vegetables. All the animals were gone. Now, all that was left was me.

When the sun set on that last, final day, I was a terrified and shaken mess. I couldn’t sit still and wandered through the house, paced up and down the long, empty hallways. I told myself to go to bed, to go to sleep. It would be easier that way, but I just couldn’t.

Eventually, I remembered dad’s little alcohol storage. While I wasn’t a drinker, dad always ended the day with a glass of brandy or two. Now, not able to sleep and not knowing what else to do, I got hold of one of the heavy bottles.

While I sat in the bedroom, writing a long letter to Maria, I took sip after sip of the disgustingly strong liquid. After only a few mouthfuls, I felt myself drifting off to sleep. I remember trying to say a prayer, but I was already too drunk for it.

I awoke on the bedroom floor, groaning because of a splitting headache. Then, slowly, the memory returned to me and I was more than surprised to be alive. Nothing was in disarray, and even after stumbling through the house, I found no hint of entry. The whole place was just as it had been the day before.

Then I got a hold of my phone and dialed Maria’s number. It rang and rang, but I got no answer. I checked the clock. It was almost ten in the morning. There was no way she’d still be asleep. After trying a few more times, I tried her parents’ landline. Nothing either.

I told myself they were out. They’d gone shopping, or maybe they’d visited one of the Christmas markets that were open by now. I came up with more and more scenarios, more and more excuses for why they weren’t answering. Then my phone rang.

I answered it in a second and almost screamed into the speaker.

“Maria?! Is that-?”

“This is officer Vogel, am I talking to Steven Schmidt?”

My heart dropped. Sweat began oozing from every pore on my body and within moments I was drenched. No, there’s nothing wrong. They are calling about something different. There’s nothing wrong. Calm down, Steven.

“Yes, it is,” I answered in a voice I couldn’t keep from shaking.

“Where have you been last night?”

“Why? What’s going on? Is my wife okay? What has-?”

“Please answer the question, sir.”

“I am, I mean, I was at the farm, I didn’t leave, because… well, I mean, I was here so…”

I couldn’t think straight anymore and just rambled on Finally, the officer cut me off and told me someone was on the way to speak to me.

The police car arrived soon after and they told me what had happened last night.

Someone had broken into the house of Maria’s parents. The old couple was dead, beaten to a bloody pulp in the middle of the hallway that led to the guestroom. In there, they found Maria, alone. She was sitting on the ground in the middle of the room. She didn’t look up or respond to anyone. The two boys, my two sons, Daniel and John, were missing. The room, as well as Maria, was covered in blood. All they’d found, was a crudely written note next to her.

“A share of all the fruit of thy land belongs to me.”

This time, the emphasis was on the word all.

I fell to the ground screaming in despair as the true meaning of the contract revealed itself to me. Oh god, what had I done.

After all the crops I’d grown on the land, after all the animals that were born here, there was only one thing left that had been produced on this farm: my two sons.

After the creature had taken everything else, it came for them to seal the contract. It took every last thing I’d promised it.

That’s why it had ignored the old bunny as well as Maria. They hadn’t been born on this land, they weren’t a part of the contract.

A few days later, I went to visit Maria. The doctors told me, she was wholly catatonic and unresponsive. She was physically unharmed, but mentally, she was nothing but an empty shell.

She never said a word to me, at least until she recognized me. In an instant, she flew into a state of utter rage and threw herself upon me. Even now, months later, I still remember every single word she screamed at me.

“It devoured them, Steven, it devoured them just like it had that pig, right there in front of me. And I heard them, I heard their screams, and the crunching… the crunching that put an end to them!”

It took four staff members to get her off me. By that point, a multitude of bloody scratch marks covered my arms and face. The doctors told me she needed time, but I knew better. I was the reason our sons were gone, and I was the one who’d destroyed her life.

Over the following months, the police started an investigation of what they termed a brutal homicide. Maria was all but unresponsive to their questions, and I knew, they wouldn’t believe a word if I told them about evil spirits and fair folk.

With nothing to go on about, and no hint of a killer, the entire thing was eventually shelved as nothing but another unresolved crime.

During that time, I visited Maria many times, but it was always the same. All I saw in her eyes was nothing but unrestrained hatred for me, and me alone.

Two weeks ago, Maria killed herself. I don’t know what happened, and I didn’t ask for any details. I couldn’t.

And now, I’m still here, in this old farmhouse. I didn’t plow or sow anything came spring. No, after that thing took my sons, I destroyed that damned shrine. Then I sold everything on the farm. All the tools and all the equipment.

At first, I didn’t know what to do with myself, with the pain.

For the longest time, I hoped the thing would come and take me as well, to end it all. However much I screamed out in to the night, it never did.

But deep inside, I knew that hadn’t been part of the deal. The deal or… the trick. It came and granted my wish and I’d been ignorant about the price. No, it would not come and take me. I had to pay the price for my ignorance and stupidity.

The only thing that helped was the bottle. Father’s brandy had lulled me to sleep back then and other bottles did now. For months, I was content to just drown myself in alcohol until my body would give out.

Now that Maria’s gone though, I just can’t go on anymore. I guess, deep inside, I’d hoped, we’d have another chance, another start, whatever that may be. But now, I can’t.

Over the past week, in what few sober hours I had, I wrote this all down. Now that I’m done with it, I’m going to burn this entire place to the ground, myself included.

Take this story as a warning.

There are things out there, much older and many times smarter than man. And now I know, they are only out to trick us.

The Watchers

Entry #1 — 05/02/18

Back in therapy Doctor Schulz told me that whenever I had strange thoughts, I should write them down. That’s the reason I started this journal.

I am not sure what it is, but in these past weeks, I had the feeling that strange things were going on. I think people are watching me.

I live in a massive apartment building. The flats are small but affordable. There is one problem: The missing solitude, peace and especially privacy.

Knowing that dozens or even hundreds of people live in the same building is a suffocating thought. It had been bothering me ever since I moved in.

The apartment building is part of an extensive residential area. There is nothing but rows and rows of similar buildings next to each other. They are only divided by small recreational areas nested between them.

The closeness of the buildings makes living here a bit awkward. When I first moved I had no blinds or curtains. I felt a bit naked, to be honest. Anyone from the adjacent building was able to watch me. I knew it was irrational. It wasn’t like I was particularly interesting or attractive.

Once I got my blinds, they were almost perpetually closed. They were a godsend.

I got to admit though, at times it was tempting to go outside and risk a peek at other people. You could catch a couple during an argument or someone acting weird. At one time I even saw someone watching porn with the blinds open.

Unfortunately, it goes both ways. If I was able to watch other people, they could watch me too.

In the colder month that was fine.

Once it got warmer though, more and more people spent time on their balconies. It makes it awkward to do the same. I hate people watching me, always did. Like I’d done last year, I kept the blinds closed.

This year too I felt watched. I couldn’t explain it, but it made my skin crawl. It was like the feeling you get when someone’s eyes focus on you. It was ridiculous. I had the blinds closed. No one could look inside.

As always it was just my imagination. My brain was acting up again and playing tricks on me. God knows it likes to do those things.

Over time I couldn’t deny it anymore though. I wasn’t sure if it was only on mind.

A couple weeks ago I was proven right. A man over in the other building looked straight at me.

I pushed it off as a coincidence, a trick of the moment. Every time I looked over though, I saw the same guy.

At first, I thought I was paranoid, stupid even. Who knows, the guy might sit outside all day, enjoying the nice weather.

Every time I went to the blinds though there was this feeling of apprehension. What if he was is there again? I told my brain to drop it. Ignore it, and all is well.

It didn’t matter. Whenever I looked, he was there.

Today it wasn’t just him. On a different balcony, I saw a woman staring at me as well. As I gazed over the building, I found other people too. They were all doing the same thing: Watching me.

The weirdest part is that they didn’t stop. They didn’t just look once or twice and go back to their business, no they continue to watch.

I felt myself freaking out, so I started to write this down. It always helped me to clear my head and to keep calm.

What I can say is that this is too weird. I am sitting here, sweaty all of a sudden. Maybe they all weren’t looking at me?

Entry #2 — 05/06/18

I am sure that I do not imagine things. When I look, those people stop right in their tracks and start watching me. Every single time they are there. Hell, as I said, their eyes are glued on me.

Entry #3 — 05/08/18

I’m catching myself looking out more and more often. I am telling myself it is all in my head and the next time I look out there is no one there anymore.

The problem is, every time I am confronted with this weird reality. More and more people seem to join in every single day. First, it was only two or three, but now it’s dozens. There is no way this is a coincidence.

Entry #4 — 05/10/18

Today I dusted off the old binoculars. It was time to give those people a bit of a closer look. It felt a little wrong to use them like this. I had got them for something different, but oh well.

How do they even see me? I am hiding behind the blinds and only ever look for a moment. Still, they notice me in an instant.


Entry #5 — 05/11/18

Are they all talking to each other? Did they all get together and chose me as a target to fuck with? Do they know I don’t like to be watched? Is that why they are doing it?


Entry #6 — 05/15/18

Enough is enough. I am done with this shit. For the past weeks, I spent my free time thinking about this and staring at people. Staring at people who just stare back at me! It is not only weird but stupid, really fucking stupid.

If I stop to give them attention, I am sure they’ll stop looking.


Entry #7 — 05/19/18 — 11:22am

I ignored them for days.

Yesterday I even went out with Tom and a few other friends. We went to a party, had a few beers and hang out together. It was a pretty nice evening. First time in a long while I had fun.

This morning I ruined things. Hungover as I was I prepared myself some coffee. Then, without thinking, decided to air this musty place out a bit.

As soon as the blinds were up, I felt their glances on my body. It gave me quite the scare to see all those people looking at me. I took a step back in shock, and after a few seconds, I closed the blinds again.

A few minutes later I peeked outside once more, trying not to move the blinds at all. They are still there, even now, an hour later.


Entry #8 — 05/19/18 — 2:33pm

The more I keep watching them, the more I think this all a set-up. It could be a social-experiment or a reality show.

There is no other way you can explain what is happening. The people who are watching must be following cues and instructions.

Whoever is behind this might have cameras installed to monitor my reaction. Are they recording me right now as I type this out?

Or is it a dumb prank? Is someone trying to freak me out? Could it be Alex? But how’d he get all those people to join in with him?


Entry #9 — 05/19/18 — 7:14pm

I’ve been racking my brain all day. Are they trying to get a reaction from me? Do they want me to watch them? Are they trying to provoke me? Is that what why they are keeping me under this sort of surveillance?

Well then, assholes, I am provoked!

I am going to go out there, and I am going to sit right there watching you. Let’s see how you react to this! Do you like to see me check you out with those binoculars? Oh, I hope you do!


Entry #10 — 05/19/18 — 10:52pm

Well, that grand plan of mine did absolutely nothing. Everything was the same. They kept it up for hours!

I don’t know how they are able to do this. I don’t think they moved at all. They are standing completely still. This is ridiculous.

They are still standing outside. It is dark by now. They shouldn’t even be able to see me anymore. Not outside on the balcony and not in here. Why haven’t they moved yet?


Entry #11 — 05/10/18 — 1:17am

This has turned from ridiculous to scary. Even when I look out now, I can vaguely make out their silhouettes in the dark. They must all still be on their balconies. I’ve checked every couple of minutes, but nothing changes.

This is the first time since this started that I am seriously freaked out. Calm down. Calm down. Calm down. I am going to bed now. I made sure every door and every window is closed.


Entry #12 — 05/20/18 — 7:47am

I almost couldn’t sleep last night. Even in bed I felt watched. It is stupid, yet I still felt their eyes resting on me. All night I imagined them looking over at my window.

Deep inside I knew that as soon as I went to bed, they all went inside. I imagined them congratulating each other, shaking hands and laughing about how well they’d played me.

The worst part was the nightmare that followed. I dreamed that I stood in the middle of a vast square. An endless number of people surrounded me. They were all staring at me. No one said a word. Then they all started to close in on me.

I woke up screaming. That was enough sleep I told myself and got up. It was morning anyways.

The first thing before I typed this out was to look out again. Of course, they a all there already. How could it have been any different? I wasn’t even surprised!


Entry #13 — 05/20/18 — 11:26am

I talked to my neighbor. That damned grumpy old geezer.

I had to ring a few times before he opened the door. I heard no footsteps or any other noises. That’s how I knew he’d been standing behind the door all this time, watching me through the spyglass.

When I didn’t leave, he had no other choice but to open.

I asked him if he’d seen or noticed anything strange going on outside in the building opposite ours.

He stared at me for a few seconds, shook his head and mumbled something to himself, before closing the door again. Yeah right, fuck you too.

After he’d closed the door, I felt his eyes watching me through the spyglass. Once I was inside, I wondered if he was part of it too. It wouldn’t be too farfetched. It fit his character perfectly. I saw it in my mind now: Him standing behind his door all day, keeping a lookout for me and giving them information.

That must be how they know if I am home or not. He is giving them information!


Entry #14 — 05/20/18 — 2:54pm

I’d been fuming ever since I got back from my neighbor.

Was this whole fucking area involved?

This was starting to get to me. I had to talk to someone. I had to show them what was going on here.

I tried recording from inside or from my balcony, but you can’t see enough. I have to go outside. I am going to record the insanity that is going on here.

Once I have it on video, I can show everyone. Hell, I can post it on YouTube. Then I’ve got them!


Entry #15 — 05/20/18 — 6:37pm

Not good. Not a good idea at all!

I stormed outside, alright. The first thing I saw was the parents near the playground staring at me. As I walked, they kept track of me, whispering to one another.

I ignored them until I saw their faces. They were grimacing, some even pointing at me.

So, of course, I started filming them. I ignored when someone yelled at me. There is a good chance they are involved in this whole thing too!

Still filming I made my way to the building. I went right for an old man who’d been staring at me ever since this morning. I yelled at him and asked him why he was doing it. As expected I got no answer. No movement either. I yelled at him once more, then I went to the next person, an older lady, and filmed her.

It wasn’t long before some sweaty, fat fuck in a muscle shirt came over to me. He asked me in a harsh voice what I thought I was doing. I couldn’t film people without their permission, especially the kids at the playground.

I said nothing and kept at it. Fuck that dude, I thought.

To make a long story short, he grabbed my phone, got angry and told me to get the hell out of here, or he’d call the cops. At first, I wanted to argue, but a crowd had already formed.

All that attention made me uneasy as hell. I stammered that if he returned the phone, I’d get out of there.

When he finally did I almost ran back. The fat fuck dared to yell after me and call me a nutjob. Yeah right, I was the crazy one here! Not all of them! I could even hear them whisper all around me.

“That’s him right?”

“Isn’t that the guy?”

I saw how they looked at me. When I called them out, I only got stares back. I knew they were hiding their smiles and laughter. At this moment I knew that everyone out there was involved. I knew they were planning their next step while I was standing right between them.

Once back inside I suffered from a severe panic attack. It was the first one in a long while. I couldn’t do anything than to lay on my bed, breathe slowly and try to calm down. Once it was finally over, I typed this out.


Entry #16 — 05/20/18 — 7:11pm

Tried to send the video to my friends, but that fat guy must have deleted it when he got a hold of my phone. Fucking hell!


Entry #17 — 05/24/18 — 6:06am

Didn’t do much for three days. Got up, went to work in the morning and spent the evening playing games. I was tempted to look outside, but I could resist.

At least until now. I looked, and they were all back at it. Why are there so many people on their balcony at a time like this?

What the hell are they doing!? Don’t they have to go to work? If not why aren’t they asleep? How can they all do this at six in the freaking morning?


Entry 18 — 05/24/18 — 5:13pm

No change. They are all still there, still looking over here. I can’t tell for sure, but I think they didn’t move at all.

I don’t care anymore. I opened the blinds, took out my binoculars and checked them out in detail. There had to be something. There had to be one single detail that showed me it was all a trick or a farce.

They are completely still. Some looked a bit different though. Angrier than the rest and as if they were frozen in motion.

Out of nowhere the dream I had a few days ago came back to me. Are they frozen in forward motion? Looking once more showed me they were indeed. Does that mean they are coming for me? Is that why they are in these strange positions?

After only a few minutes I put the binoculars away and closed the blinds. I am not going to think about this.

I have to let this go. I have to let this go. I have to let this go.

I will let it go.


Entry #19 — 05/29/18

I did well. I did let it go. I am going to wait till summer is over if I have to. I am not going to get near those blinds, the windows or the balcony.

I even hang out in the city two days ago. It wasn’t too nice with people all around me, but better than sitting here, being watched all day.


Entry #20 — 06/02/18 — 2:11pm

I am all alone. There is no help. The police are involved too. Fuck them! Fuck the police! How can they take part in some shit like that!?

But they really are all working together. They are all out for me. What the hell do they want!? Why are they all playing me! What the fuck can I do? I am so freaking confused.


Entry #21 — 06/02/18 — 4:07pm

I had to calm down. I was too angry to write down what happened.

The day started off normal. I played some games and minded my own business.

At one point I realized though that the only thing I heard was the low humming of my computer.

It was Saturday. It was summer. The weather was great. I realized the sounds from the playground were missing. I should’ve heard kids playing and yelling.

I told myself to let it go. I’d been doing well to do so. The more I said those words, the less they worked. Curiosity and fear drove me forward, but I couldn’t see the playground from the window.

From the balcony I could see it. Everyone near the playground was frozen, looking towards me. All eyes, those of the parents as well as the kids, were focused on me.

I had ignored this thing for almost a week, but they got me again. They got me to look yet again. They had to keep pushing me, didn’t they?

At that moment I said fuck it and called the police. I should have done so much earlier. I told them people were spying on me, they were acting strange, and I was scared.

When they arrived, I told them the whole story and led them straight to the playground.

Well, what do you know? Everything was back to normal! Kids were playing, and adults were chatting.

Oh, how surprised they all acted when they saw me with the police. I thought I’d got them now. I told the officers what had been going on before.

The officers went over to talk with the group. I could see one woman gesticulating heavily into my direction. I had smiled, thinking the officer had got her. Turned out I was wrong. Big surprise. The officers came back to me and asked me which apartment was mine. I pointed at it.

Of course, they asked about the blinds. What the hell did it matter? I told them it was for protection, so people couldn’t watch me. Then they dared to ask me if I often watched people. Well, what do you expect? Yes, I do! I had to find out if they were watching me! I had to check on them! Freaking police.

Well, they didn’t take that too well. They asked me about the time I’d been filming people. That bitch must have told them. She must have lied about me! I tried to tell them it was to prove the situation around here. I wanted to have evidence of the weird things happening. They cut me off.

Instead of listening, they told me that people had complained about me. I was the one who was watching people they said! Me! They said I watched them all day from my balcony! That’s absolute fucking bullshit! I am not watching anyone! I tried to explain again, but once more I wasn’t allowed to talk.

They told me to shut it. I had called them the help me, and they told me to shut up! That wasn’t enough. They told me to get a grip and go to a fucking psychiatrist! Yeah right, I go straight back to Doctor Schulz tomorrow. I’ll say to him ‘Hey doc, I am back, the police told me I should talk to you!’ I didn’t have those problems anymore! He said so himself!

They were full of shit! I didn’t even listen anymore. I let them talk, but I watched the playground. I saw them. I saw them look at me. They were talking about me. Telling each other to get back into position soon.

One of the officers snapped a finger in front of me. In the end, they told me to keep quiet, not to film anyone and that disturbance of peace and privacy was a serious crime.

Yeah, that is a crime, right? They are all doing it! But that’s of course not what those two assholes cared about!

Once they had left, I went back inside.

That’s where I am now. For an hour I was so mad, I couldn’t stop pacing around. Even the freaking police won’t help me.

But that wasn’t it. That wasn’t why I was so mad. It was their faces. I noticed it. The little smile when I told them my story. They were part of it too. I figured it out just now. Hah!

That’s why they didn’t help me. The police are involved as well! I don’t know why I didn’t notice it back outside.

Or wait, maybe those weren’t even real policemen. Hell, they could be two guys that lived in the building over there. Put on a uniform, play the part and fuck with me a bit more!

I looked outside as soon as I’d come back inside. Yep, there they were again. It was exactly as I’d thought.

They are all smiling now. It’s because they know they got me again. I am watching them again, and that’s what they wanted, right? I am playing your stupid game once more.

Fucking hell!


Entry #22 — 06/02/18 — 10:21pm

I remembered the dream once again. I had once read that dreams can be premonitions. In the dream, all the people that watched me came closer towards me.

Guess what I noticed? They are getting closer. It is slow and barely visible. It is so I don’t notice it, but I did now! It is only a step or two at a time, but they are definitely inching closer. I can see some that are already leaning over their balcony railing.

The ones outside too. Even from my windows I can now see the playground group. But when I look, they don’t move.

Why are they doing this? Is it to play with me? To freak me out? To drive me insane? Or is it, so I keep watching? I don’t freaking now.


Entry #23 — 06/03/18 — 1:42am

Tried to sleep, but I can’t. I got up again, and there are still dark silhouettes outside. They are still at the playground. I can’t see them clearly, but I know they are there. They know I didn’t sleep.

I tried recording them once again, but my phone isn’t working right. Whenever I take a picture or record a video, it is nothing but darkness. They don’t show up at all! Did that fat guy break it? Fuck!

This is so absurd. So completely ridiculous. It is almost two in the fucking morning, and those people are still outside. With their freaking kids! I wanted to open the window or the balcony door and scream at them to give it a rest, but they’d like that wouldn’t they?


Entry #24 — 05/04/18 — 6:41am

oh god oh god oh god ohgd ohgd ohgd ohgod oh god oh god oh god ohgdo oh god ohg od oh god oh ogdo no no no no no no I can’t


Entry #25 — 06/04/18 — 8:34am

Okay, I am calm now. I am calm now. No one can hurt me.

I tried something. Spoiler: it was freaking stupid, and my phone is gone!

I had the grand idea to try to film people once more. It was not even seven, barely six and the playground was full of people. I went out with my phone my in hand and started to take pictures.

I leaned forward to get a full view and started filming. At that moment I noticed something out of the corner of my eye.

I turned to see what it was. I saw that everyone on that whole side of the apartment building was leaning forward like me, staring at me. They all looked straight at me, right into my eyes. Their expression was angered, their eyes wide. They seemed to almost lean towards me as if they’d come for me at any second. It freaked me out more than anything in my entire life. I screamed, stumbled backward and sent my phone flying.

I ran back inside.

After an hour I went back outside to look for my phone. It wasn’t fucking there. It must have landed somewhere else. Goddamnit!

I peeked outside once more and prayed that I had imagined things. I had not. Everyone was still there. Not only to the left but also to the right. I saw my neighbor, his face twisted into a visage of cruel mockery, Even from above the people were staring at me.

I am laughing as I type this out. None of this makes any sense. It is surreal. Did I slip into freaking bizarro world?

I don’t freaking know anymore!


Entry #26 — 06/04/18 — 1:22pm

Completely forgot work. I only remembered it now.

I sent an email to my boss, saying I was sick. Don’t even care what he thinks.


Entry # — 27 06/04/18 — 5:44pm

I am trapped. I am freaking trapped now.

I should have left this place while I still could. After what I saw this morning, I told myself I should get away. Something bizarre and very, very, wrong was going on here. Hell, it had been going on for weeks now!

As soon as I opened my door, I saw that the whole hallway was filled with people, dozens of them!

I yelled out in surprise, expecting them to jump me. Instead, they were all frozen in place, all staring at me. Watching me and waiting for what I was going to do.

I wanted to run. I really wanted to. I wanted to get out then and there. I took only one step forward, and I saw they were all smiling.

I saw that they were leaning forward towards me as if they were expecting me to try. They were taunting me to try it. Their arms were outstretched, their hands open in anticipation. I knew they’d grab me as soon as I tried. They wanted me to try running. They weren’t just watching me I realized, they were preying on me.

That’s when I threw the door shut and locked it. I ran to the living room, expecting to hear them push against the door. I thought they’d knock against it or try to pry it open.

Instead, there was only silence. Everything stayed quiet.

Why the hell aren’t they doing anything? I screamed at the door why they didn’t come and take me. Nothing again.

After that, I sent Tom a Facebook message. I knew he’d be worried, but I needed help. I told him how scared I was, that something strange was going on here and that I didn’t know what to do. I am waiting for his reply now, but so far he hasn’t read my message.


Entry #28 — 06/04/18 — 8:25pm

Tom still hasn’t read my message.

I checked through the blinds earlier. They are all getting closer. The people from the other building are now outside. Hundreds, maybe even thousands of people are filling the small recreational area. They all look over here. None of them are moving when I watch. That’s why I don’t dare to stop. I look outside all the time now, I have to. I can’t risk them getting any closer! I can’t risk for them to get here. To get me!


Entry #29 — 06/05/18 — 4:46am

I didn’t sleep yet. No answer from Tom.

An idea came to me. Are they watching me to see if I am watching them? Are they trying to sneak up on me? To come here and get me when I am not watching?

So that means they watch me to see if I am watching so they know if I am watching and if I don’t they can come closer? Is that why they are watching so intently?

The more I think about it, the more sense it makes. There can’t be any other reason. There never was. I started to laugh so much when I finally understood it. I had to type this out. They are all watching me to see if I am watching them.

It is so so simple! I am still laughing, even now. How stupid I was to not see it earlier.

I have to go back to watch now! I have to be serious again!


Entry #30 — 06/05/18 — 8:12am

What is insanity?

Things don’t make any sense anymooooore.

Nothing does at all at all at all at all!

I must have passed out at one point and woke up not long ago. I jerked up because I haven’t been watching.

I saw no, I see, something impossible. There are dozens of heads looking over from the sides of the balcony.

Wait no, it must be more. It’s hundreds! They are all peeking over the sides, all atop one another and are all looking straight at me as I am typing away. tak tak tak

That’s not the worst though. What is really so stupid, so goddamn stupid stupid stupid is the ones who look down from the top. From the freaking top!

They are upside down and are looking at me. It shouldn’t be possible. If they tried that they’d fall down and crash to the ground. Yet I see them. It is absolutely im-fucking-possible.

Are you telling me they are all using rope? Hundreds of people are dangling down like in Mission Impossible to look into my apartment? It is so stupidly stupid I am laughing again. I am going to actually put on the Mission Impossible theme later on. In my mind I see hundreds upon hundreds of ropes dangling down towards my balcony.

This is all impossible. None of this makes any sense. Reality itself has turned to nonsense. This is not bizarro world, this is nonsense world.


Entry 31 — 06/05/18 — 1:01pm

It’s not fucking real, is it?

Do I imagine all of this? Was none of it real to begin with? Is there no one out there at all? Maybe it’s all just in my head?

ALL

IN

MY

HEAD

HEAD HEAD

If I go outside is it all over? Are they all gone? Should I do it?

What if it is real though? What they aren’t human? Could I be the only human left in this building? Is that why they are all focusing on me? No one else is real, and I am the only real one left?

Hah, me the only REAL one left, that’d be great. Just me.

I don’t know.

I don’t know don’t know doN’tk no don’t know don’t fucking know don’know don’t


Entry #32 — 06/05/18 — 11:04pm

I’ve barricaded the place.

There are so many of them now, I can’t watch them all.

Whenever I fall asleep or doze off, they are closer. I never see them move, but they wait till I can’t watch anymore.

Their hands are reaching out for me. They are climbing onto the balcony already.

And they are still watching me.

Ok, did I miss anything? The windows are covered up. Check! The balcony door is blocked off too. Check! The front door and the whole entry area is sealed. Check!

I still have enough food for a week or two!


Entry #33 — 06/06/18 — 9:22am

I slept again.

The doorbell woke me. I know they are in front of the door. I am listening. I can hear you. I know you want me to go and open the door.

You can try to lure me out all you want, I won’t come. I am not an idiot. I won’t open the door. I am not falling for any of your silly tricks. Not me.


Entry #34 — 06/06/18 — 10:11am

The balcony is overflowing with people.

There is a tiny spot from which I can still watch them. It is because I have to always watch them.

There are no sounds. They don’t make any sounds. At times I think the sound is all but gone. The only sound is the doorbell. It is a trick.


Entry #35 — 06/10/18 — 4:53pm

There are hundreds of them on the balcony now. They are all smiling. Is it in anticipation?

There are so many. How do they all fit on the balcony? I am laughing again as I watch them. There are too many people out there. It is impossible for hundreds upon hundreds of people to be on my tiny balcony, yet they are all there. They are on top of each other, next to each other, filling up the balcony to the top. There are more of them outside. They are coming from all sides.

It’s as if they are pouring into the balcony. As if some giant is pushing more and more of them inside. It makes no sense.


Entry #36 — 06/11/18 — 6:17pm

I got a couple of messages from Tom. He tells me that everything is alright. He talked about how I am having another one of my episodes. I should come outside. Doctor Schulz is with him, and they can help me.

I knew he was with them. Ever since the start. I knew it. He always was. Even back in the day. Him and Schulz, two parts of an evil whole.

Now they are ringing again and again and again and again. Over and over and over again.

Are they going to get in soon? What if they break down the door? What if they pour in from the balcony? Nothing to do but to wait.

Oh and wait I will. Do and come for me. I am prepared. I got every knife, every tool, and every other sharp or blunt object. Come in if you want. Come and try to get me. I won’t let you.

I am going to fight and fight and kill and fight and kill

There are noises outside again!

Do You Know That Sleep Paralysis Can Last for up to an Hour?

Most people know about sleep paralysis. Only a Few know that it can last for up to an hour. Not being able to move for a few minutes is scary. Not being able to move for an hour is the most terrifying thing in the world. I read online that writing about your problems can help to resolve them, so here goes nothing!

I have suffered from sleep paralysis ever since I was a little girl. It all started during third grade.

I remember it like it was yesterday. We were supposed to go on a class trip the next day. Shy and awkward little me was the prime target of our class’ bullies. That same day I had lost one of my baby teeth, an incisor. I knew those bullies would give me hell on the trip. I cried and pleaded with my parents, but as always they didn’t budge.

“It is going to be fine sweetie.”

“Nothing bad is going to happen Claire, the trip will be fun!”

Yeah right, they didn’t know how bad Mark and Lisa could be.

That night bad dreams plagued my sleep. I woke up again and again, seeing their laughing and teasing faces right in front of me. Then, as I woke up once more, I couldn’t move any of my limbs. I didn’t know what was going on. I freaked out and wanted to call for mom and dad, but words didn’t come out either.

When it was finally over, I screamed for them at the top of my lungs. My mom was by my bed in an instant.

Under tears, I told her what had happened. In her kindest voice, my mom explained to nine-year-old me what sleep paralysis was.

“It’s rare sweetie, but sometimes your body is really, really tired. When that happens, it can take your arms and legs a bit longer to wake up. It is not scary at all, it just means you used them a bit too much.”

It was the first of many, similar nights. Looking back now, it was most likely due to Mark and Lisa and their constant bullying. Oh, how I hated them.

Throughout middle school, things got worse. These episodes happened more often, at least once or twice a month. It was always scary. Somehow I couldn’t get used to them.

I went to the doctors with my parents multiple times, but there was nothing wrong with me.

During my first year of high school, things changed for the worst. After not getting along for years, my parent’s relationship finally fell apart. They went through a nasty divorce, which left me living with Mom. Soon after we moved to a different town, where she hoped to start a new life. She didn’t tell me what Dad had done, but she’d made it clear that he was not part of our life anymore.

A month or so later, I learned that sleep paralysis can last much, much longer.

In my mind, it felt like I wasn’t able to move for eternity. Seconds turned to minutes, minutes to hours.

I started to freak out, and soon I noticed something else in the room. At first, I only felt a presence near me, but then I saw a dark shade at the bottom of my bed. For a long time it just watched me, but then it inched closer.

I didn’t know what was going on. I grew more and more agitated and scared as the thing climbed onto my bed. The only thing I could make out was a pair of cold eyes. As the dark shade was hunched over my body, I felt a pressure on my chest. I almost couldn’t breathe!

I had gotten used to the shorter episodes, but this one was entirely different. I was frozen, barely able to breathe. A thought came up in my mind: I was dying. This shade was death, and it had come to take me away.

In panic and utter fear, I kept my eyes shut. I told myself that there was nothing else in the room. I imagined things, there was no one else here, and I’d not die. I recited this over and over again.

I didn’t know how much time had passed when I was finally able to move again. I was a crying and shivering mess. In an instant, I turned the lights on, but I was all alone in my room. No sign of any intruders. For the rest of the night, I sat on my bed, huddled in a blanket, waiting for morning to come.

After that, I went to the doctors once more. Again they told me there was nothing wrong with me.

I learned that while it was rare, sleep paralysis could indeed last for quite some time. In extreme cases, an hour wasn’t unheard of. Lucky me, I guess. Having trouble breathing or hallucinations weren’t uncommon, the doctor said. That explained the dark shade I’d seen. In the end it was attributed to the stress of the divorce and moving to a new town. It would pass in time.

Well spoiler alert: It did not. And guess what, I never got used to these episodes either. I mean how could I? I am pretty sure no one would be able to.

Each night, I am scared that it will happen again.

By now I am not sure what to do anymore. I tried meditation, hypnosis, sleeping pills and now I am trying to write about it. Who knows, it might actually help.


With this, I closed my baby girl’s diary. Reading these pages was hard. She was suffering so much. It must be so tough for her to go through all that.

I looked at her as she was sleeping in her bed. I smiled. It almost brought tears to my eyes as I thought back to the very first night I’d visited her here. She’d described it in such vivid detail and remembered as much about it as I did. It made me so happy.

As she was lying there, right in front of me, I could see her alabaster skin. Her beautiful legs. They look almost like her mother’s only so much prettier. I touched them only for a moment, but I could feel how soft they were.

“Oh, Lauren, you thought you could take her from me, didn’t you? First the divorce and then the move to this small town.” “You thought you could hide our little girl from me? You were never that smart. And those windows? They are so easy to open. What would you do if someone bad were coming for our pretty little girl?”

Oh yes, our little Claire was so pretty. I went forward to her bed and caressed her leg with my hand. It was in that instant that she woke up. Her eyelids flashed open like so many times before. Her eyes darted around the room, but the rest of her body stayed frozen.

Sleep paralysis can last for up to an hour. It was quite hard to get the dosage of the anesthesia right, but it was worth it for my baby girl.

Tonight though, I couldn’t feel happy. Like so many times I’d read her diary, and this time I could feel my little girl’s pain. She was suffering so much.

It wasn’t supposed to be like that. This was supposed to be a time we shared. After the restraining order, there was no other way for me to spend some time with my beautiful baby girl. I wanted this time to be pleasant, for the both of us.

But I know what it was. It was this fear. The terror of not being able to move her arms and legs. It was her limbs. My baby girl’s limbs were causing all this. They were the reason for all this pain, all this suffering.

Then a thought appeared in my mind. It was one of such sweet, fatherly love. If those nasty limbs were gone, she’d not have to worry about them anymore, would she? All those fears would be gone and be washed away.

As her eyes focused on me, I smiled. I nodded and whispered to her that everything would be fine soon. I leaned over to her and brought my face close to hers. I knew she didn’t recognize me, she couldn’t in this darkness. I gave her a soft kiss on the forehead before I increased the dosage of the anesthesia. She drifted off back to sleep in an instant.

My little Claire was a strong girl. She’d suffered so much already, and I knew she’d be able to bear with it for a little more.

It didn’t take me more than a few more minutes to find a hacksaw in the shack of the next door neighbor. I’d been here so many times already.

Then I snuck back into Claire’s room.

With the first cut, the alabaster color of her skin changed to a rosy red. Oh how beautiful she was.

Don’t worry my dear, little Claire. It won’t take long. It will all be over in an hour.

Not All Lighthouses are Built to Guide Ships

Most old lighthouses have turned into useless remnants of the past. New technology, modern ships, and GPS have made them almost obsolete.

Not in my town though. Our old lighthouse is still very much operative and watched over by an old lighthouse keeper. Each night, the light beam is moving over the surface of the ocean till the sun comes up.

My town is a small, remote coastal town in northern Germany. Only a few thousand people live here and we scarcely get visitors. It also isn’t too farfetched to say we are a bit behind.

I graduated school with barely average grades. For the first two years, I worked here and there to earn some money, but it was never anything substantial.

It was earlier this year that I found out that the old lighthouse keeper was retiring. Of course, someone was needed to replace him.

It wasn’t exactly my dream job, but at least it would be a permanent position. I visited the old man, Mister Wallace, right away and told him about my interest in the job.

I somehow must have made an impression on the old man. During the interviews he singled me out between the candidates and told me, he’d give me a chance.

On my first official day, the old man and I met up in front of the lighthouse. I was first to arrive and noticed the old man from afar. He was walking in my direction, dragging one of his legs behind. A limp, I thought. Once he reached me handed me a cup of steaming liquid.

“For you,” he said with a bright smile. “The wind today must be gettin’ to ye, boy.”

“Thanks,” I answered taken a bit by surprise.

The old man took a deep sip from his cup, took out an old keyring and stepped towards the entrance door.

“This thing is a bitch to open!”

He started to turn the key around, but the door didn’t budge.

“Come on you bloody, ugh!”

Finally, there was a loud clang as the door sprang open.

“You comin’?”

As I followed him inside, I noticed how dirty and narrow the lighthouse was. When I was a kid, it had been this imposing, grand building. Now I saw that it was pretty unimpressive.

There was another door opposite the entrance door. The old man didn’t address it at all and instead began his ascent up the stairs.

Before I followed, I took a sip from the cup he had given me. I almost spat it out again. This wasn’t coffee as I’d expected.

“The hell’s that stuff?”

“Grog! Warms ye right up, doesn’t it?”

I frowned, at which the old man started laughing.

“You’ll get used to it!”

The old man had quite a hard time with the stairs. He had to almost drag himself upwards.

“Must be the leg. No wonder he is retiring,” I thought.

I heard him wheeze and groan as he clung to the railing. A few times he had to stop to catch his breath.

“You ok there, Mister Wallace? Need a hand?”

“I’ve been making my way up those damned stairs for half a century, boy. I’ll be fine doing it a few more times.”

Once we’d made it upstairs, the old man showed me around.

“Better get comfortable around here. You’ll be spending a lot of time in this room.”

As I looked around, I saw an old radio system. Other than that, there was a table, a few chairs, a telescope, two cupboards and a small oil stove. The rest of the room was empty.

There was a metal ladder that led up from here to the lantern room above.

“Ain’t much need to get up there,” the old man said, “except to give the thing a checkup before it turns dark.”

With that, he motioned for me to follow him upstairs and showed me how to make sure the lamp was working. It didn’t take long and we soon went down again.

“There ain’t much to do up here. Keep watch till mornin’ and make sure everything goes well.”

“So, do you get many calls up here? There aren’t many ships coming to town anymore, aren’t there?”

With that, I motioned to the old radio system behind him.

“Haven’t gottan a call in years. There ain’t no one coming here. And if they ever do, it’s in those new, modern ships. They don’t need no old lighthouse anymore.”

“Then why are we even here? Doesn’t it mean this place is useless? I mean, not like I am complaining or anything, I can-“

“This place ain’t useless, boy. Now you listen and you listen close. You don’t know what is out there, do ye? It ain’t those ships that need us. It’s the town.”

For a moment I looked at him before I burst out laughing.

“Ok, you almost got me,” I said.

The old man frowned. “Ain’t joking around, boy.”

Yeah sure, I thought, but I kept my mouth shut. Now here is the thing about my town. You could say it has a history. Over the decades a number of strange things have happened.

One such story is about a fishing boat that went out one morning with a crew of eight. That same evening the boat returned, but without any sign of the crew. The men stayed missing.

Another tale is about an artist who decided to paint the moonlit sea. The next morning they found the man babbling nonsense. He had gone mad overnight.

By now natural explanations have been found for almost all these stories. The artist had a history of mental illness. The fisher boat most likely got caught up in a storm. Back in the day though these stories fed into people’s superstition. With the years they became local legends.

There are many people in this town, even today, who believe in the supernatural.

From the way the old man had talked, I could tell he was one of them. Who was I to blame him though? After half a century up here, I’d most likely tell myself similar things to give meaning to what I was doing.

“There’s one more thing I gotta show ye.”

With that, he made his way down the spiral staircase again. Once we reached the bottom he opened the door I’d seen before.

“This is the generator room,” he said as he led me inside.

“This lighthouse is old. The cables and power lines are too. When it storms a little too much, the power can cut out. If that happens, you turn on this baby here.”

With that, he pointed at the generator.

“The light has to stay on, at all times.”

Then he showed me in every minute detail how to handle the generator. Turn this here and that there. If this happens, you need to add some oil. If that happens, the fuel is empty. If the light doesn’t turn on once you start it, check the cables. This went on for almost half an hour and multiple times he asked me if I understood him.

Once he finished his explanations, the old man told me he’d stick around for the first couple of nights. He’d show me the ropes, he said.

The three nights he stayed at the lighthouse with me were quite alright. I had expected the old man to be somewhat uptight and boring, but he wasn’t at all. He cursed like a sailor, knew an endless amount of dirty jokes and had quite a few stories to tell. He even brought some booze. It was to keep the mood as merry as possible, he said.

One of the things he did first thing after arriving was to give the old generator a checkup. After that, he made his way up to the lantern room to do the same to the lamp. His diligence surprised me.

On the last day, I told him I’d be sure to pay him a visit in time. He said, that, instead of making empty promises, I’d do well to remember what he’d told me on the first day.

“Whatever happens, always make sure the light is on, boy.”


On my first day alone I made sure to follow the old man’s routine to the point. First the generator, then the lamp and then everything else. ‘Everything else’ pretty much meant the radio system.

To be honest, I’d no idea why we even kept bothering with the damned radio. There’d been nothing but static on it and I doubted it would change any time soon, if ever.

The first night alone was terribly boring. For a while, I rearranged the room to my liking and then cleaned it out a bit. Unfortunately, this could only fill so much time.

The rest of the night I was sitting in one of the chairs, staring out at the dark sea. I played around on my phone for a bit, but without any reception, there wasn’t much to do. I cursed at myself for not bringing anything else. I’d not make that mistake twice.

For the first two weeks, I was serious about everything. I was new on the job after all. Once routine settled in, things changed.

Nothing had happened so far and I was sure it would stay that way. Quite a few times I turned the radio’s volume up in the unlikely case of an emergency and settled in for a nap. At other times I brought my laptop and spend the night watching movies or a TV show. To be honest, I felt a little bad about it.

I’d been on the job for a good month when the first power outage occurred. A terrible storm was raging and when the power turned off, I went down to the emergency generator. In the room, I could hear the raging of the storm, the shrieking of the wind and the waves crashing against the beach. That’s one hell of a storm, I thought.

The power outage lasted till early morning, long after the worst of the storm was over.

The second power outage came out of nowhere. The lights flickered and soon went out completely. Again I made my way down to the generator. Again I heard sounds from outside and wondered if a new storm was coming up. Soon the rattling of the generator replaced the sounds. This time the power outage didn’t last for long. After not even half an hour I was on my way back down to turn the damned thing back off.

“What a complete waste of time,” I cursed to myself.

I turned the thing back off, locked the generator room behind me and made my way back up. Once I was up again I slumped down in my chair. “Why did I even go to all that trouble? Not like it mattered anyway. Wasn’t like any ships would crash.”

For the next couple of weeks, nothing happened. Then, one night, the power went off again.

“Oh come on, really?”

I was watching a movie on my laptop. I wasn’t in the mood for getting up and making my way down to the generator yet again. The power would most likely be back in an hour anyway. Not like there was a storm or something.

I had one look out at sea and saw that it was completely calm.

I turned the movie back on, but after a while, I started to hear something. At first, I thought it as part of the movie, but when I paused it, the sound was still there. It was a low melody or a type of wordless singing.

I looked around the room for the source of the sound but found nothing.

It couldn’t be the radio, could it? Wasn’t it off due to the power outage? I went forward, but before I could reach it, the weird singing got louder.

It must be coming from outside I realized. As I turned to the window, I saw that the calm sea had turned into raging waves.

“What the hell? How did the sea change so quickly?”

Then I saw something emerge from between the waves. I stepped to the telescope and used it to see what was going on.

As I focused the telescope the first thing I saw was dark hair. What followed was white skin that shimmered in the moonlight. I gasped as I finally saw a face. It was the face of absolute beauty. Soon I could see the naked, upper body of a young woman above the waves. I stumbled back from the telescope, shook my head, opened and closed my eyes and looked again. She was still there.

“Is this a… mermaid?”

It couldn’t be. Mermaids weren’t real. But then what was I seeing?

As I watched on, more started emerging from the sea. They all were swimming together towards the beach. All the while the sea was raging around them. I wondered how these frail beings were able to move so swiftly and carelessly in this choppy sea.

Suddenly a flare was fired into the sky. It illuminated the sea into glaring, red light.

The beings in the water recoiled from it. They were screaming and shrieking, throwing themselves backward.

Before I could wonder who had fired the flare, I saw something horrific. Now their beautiful faces and perfect bodies were replaced by a nightmarish reality. Where I had seen beautiful mermaids before, I now saw bloated, fishy monstrosities.

There was no hair or skin anymore, just scales. There were no beautiful faces, just empty, staring eyes. Where I had seen smiles before, there were now giant jaws that opened to rows of fangs.

I watched in utter fear as those gigantic creatures burst through waves and water alike.

I was glued to the telescope, watching in utter horror. Then the light of the flare died away. The monstrous beings transformed back into beautiful mermaids. Yet again they were frolicking in the water.

This time though, the illusion wasn’t perfect anymore. My brain had seen reality, so it refused to discard it altogether. The beautiful faces of the mermaids were disfigured by maws filled with fangs. Their bodies were still shimmering in the moonlight. Now though they were bloated and disgusting.

For a few seconds, I stood there, dumbfounded. From where was I could see more and more of them appearing in the water.

Then my grip on reality returned and I remembered the words of the old man.

“You don’t know what is out there, do ye? It ain’t those ships that need us. It’s the town.”

It finally dawned on me. It must be those things he’d been talking about. They’d recoiled at the flare. The light was to… keep them out?

As this thought crossed my mind, I realized the terrible mistake I’d made. If not for the flare I’d never…

I rushed to the stairs. Taking multiple steps at a time, I made way to the generator room.

I tried to open the door, but it was locked as always. I reached into my pocket and tried to find the right key. The noise outside grew louder as well as nearer. I couldn’t concentrate. All I had on my mind was the image of the monsters out there.

Any moment now they could reach the beach and with it this lighthouse. There was no singing anymore, now I only heard loud roaring.

As the door sprang open, I hurried inside and tried to turn the generator on. Nothing happened.

“What the fuck? Why aren’t you working?”

I kicked it and tried again, but still nothing. I was starting to panic. I tried again. Then I remembered the oil. Since the last power outage, I’d not checked the thing at all.

“Why the fuck now? Why the hell-“

I was cut off by a noise coming from outside.

“It is just your imagination, it is just your imagination, there is noth-“

Something hard and sharp scratched alongside the outside of the sturdy, metal door of the lighthouse. I froze up. I held my breath. Each second turned into an eternity.

Once I was sure that everything was quiet I dared to breathe again.

Right at this moment, something heavy hit the door and I could hear one of the things roaring from outside. It was only a few meters away from me! I rummaged through the shelf to find the oil.

“Where the fuck is it? It must be here somewhere!”

Fear had overtaken me completely. I looked at the shelf but wasn’t seeing anything. My eyes wandered from left to right and then to the left again. There was nothing there.

My eyes grew wide and I winced, as another bang hit the door. Something was trying to tear its way through the metal. At that moment I saw the bottle of oil, but as I picked it up, it slipped right through my fingers. I cursed again, then picked it up once more. Then I started to purr the oil into the generator. Sweat dripped from my forehead. My body was shaking. I spilled more than half of the oil.

Would the light even do something? The flare worked but if those things are already out of the water? What if…

I didn’t get to finish the thought. The banging and tearing at the lighthouse door stopped. Moments later I saw the doorknob turn.

The image of the old man locking the door each morning appeared in my mind. He held the keys in his hand, put it into the keyhole and turned it twice, giving me a nod. “You never know who shows up out here.”

I hadn’t locked the door. I hadn’t locked it in weeks.

I stood there, but couldn’t move as I heard the door open. For a moment slim, feminine fingers pushed themselves between doorframe and door. Then reality replaced them and a claw-like hand ripped the door open.

Right at that moment, the bloated body of one of the fishy abominations appeared outside the door. In the dark of the night, I wasn’t sure what I was seeing. There were too many appendages. It looked to me as if it was a grown together mess of various creatures. I saw legs and arms, but also fins and gills. The body itself was long and much more muscular than I’d thought.

I tried to start the generator again, but nothing happened. The monstrosity roared at me, this time so loud that my ears were ringing. I saw its dead eyes focus on me. The jaws started to open and close in anticipation before it slithered forward. Then it started to squeeze its body through the door.

As the massive body came closer and closer, I tried the generator again and again. Long scaly appendages shot forward, clinging to the door of the generator room. As it dragged itself forward, inch by inch, the generator finally rattled to life.

With it, the lights of the room and in the stairway flashed to life. The abomination roared and screamed up in pain. It raged and yanked itself backward to escape the light.

The stare of the empty, fishy eyes rested on me the whole time. They promised that the thing would return one day and it would drag me down into the dark depths it had come from.

Then the creature had vanished.

I threw the door shut and locked it. Then, for the remainder of the night, I sat shivering in the room at the top of the lighthouse. I sat there, covered in a blanket, shaking and scanning the sea. Thankfully I saw nothing.

Even at dawn, I didn’t move. After more than an hour, I started to go through the old man’s routine. It wasn’t my sense of duty, neither was it diligence. It was fear. I pushed the moment when I’d leave the lighthouse off as far as possible. In my mind, the thing was still out there, waiting for me.

For a long time, I contemplated if I should stay inside.

After I had checked the outside from the top more than half a dozen times, I decided to leave. By now it was past eight in the morning and the sun had been up for more than three hours.

Everything was normal outside. Nothing reminded me of the abomination I had seen.

On my way home, I noticed a commotion near the beach. As I got closer, I saw that the police was there as well.

I pushed myself through the crowd to see what had happened. The sand in front of me was splattered with blood. In the middle of it was a covered up body.

“He must’ve been torn to pieces,” I heard one of the police officers say.

Then I noticed a flare gun lying next to the corpse.

“Who?! Who is it?” I yelled towards the police.

At first they ignored me, but finally, one of them came towards me. He recognized me as the new lighthouse keeper and took me aside. The name he told me made my heart drop. It was Jeremy Wallace, the old man.

I later found out that, even though he had retired as the lighthouse keeper, he still went out to the beach each night. After he gave up his job, he had still continued to keep watch.

He must have been concerned when the lamp of the lighthouse turned off and didn’t come back on. Once he saw the beasts closing in on the beach, he must have used the flare gun to ward them off.

Once the light of the flare died, and the light of the lamp didn’t return, those beasts must have come after him.

I remembered the limp. There was no way he could have gotten away. If I’d only turned on the light earlier.

I thought back to the flare. Without it, I’d never even recognized what danger I was in. These beasts might have very well entered the lighthouse and torn me to pieces. Not only that, they might have gone for the town as well.

Tears of frustration came to my eyes. While I had ignored my duty, it had been this old man who had saved us all. And he had done it at the cost of his life.

After that day I often catch myself thinking of the old man. Now I know what is out there. I never sleep or take my job lightly anymore. I don’t bring anything to read. Instead, I am busy making sure the lighthouse is in prime condition.

I often use the stove to heat up grog. At first, I drank it only to keep the memory of those days with the old man alive. But in the end, he was right. I’d get used to it.

The Constant

A Constant: Something that is invariable or unchanging, such as a fixed number or a logical term.

It had been one of those days when everything went wrong. After getting up, I bumped my head, causing a giant bruise and an ongoing headache. Then I missed my train, couldn’t find a taxi, and arrived half an hour late for work.

It wouldn’t have been a big deal if it hadn’t been the exact day of a meeting with a valuable customer. He ended up leaving as I arrived. My manager informed me that this would have serious consequences. I could forget about that promotion I’d been working on.

When I finally arrived at home, after hours of overtime, I had a quick meal. It was the precooked microwave type.

I went on Netflix and clicked through the list of series and movies for a bit before I closed my browser again. For a while, I sat in my chair, contemplating going to bed.

Instead, I decided to go for a walk. After a day like that, I needed to unwind. My phone showed me it was a gentle and mild night, and so I went on my way.

As I locked the front door behind me, the idea of walking out and never coming back crossed my mind. It didn’t sound bad.

By now night had fallen, and I walked along the almost empty roads of the city.

At first, I had only wanted to take a short walk, a couple of minutes to unclog my mind. Now, though, I found myself walking on. I saw a few people here and there, but apart from them, my only companions were street lights, lighted storefronts, and neon signs.

I didn’t know how long I’d been walking when I reached the big river dividing the city. For a while, I looked at the dark, cold waters rushing past me. Then I continued alongside the riverbank.

As I checked my phone, I saw that it was almost midnight. I should be at home in my bed, sleeping, but somehow I didn’t care about that right now.

I had followed the path for a quarter of an hour when I noticed a hill ahead of me. It seemed as if it had appeared out of nowhere. How had I not seen it until now? Was there even a hill like that in the middle of the city? I shrugged it off. I must have walked further than I thought and reached the outskirts already.

Once I was closer, I noticed a small path that led up the hill. Two wooden pillars marked its beginning. They formed a sort of gate. For a moment I searched for a sign, but then I decided to follow the path.

On one side was the steep, dark hill, on the other I could look over the city. I continued onward and noticed that the path ahead of me was illuminated. It was a paper lantern mounted on a small stone pillar, the first of many. Their dim light was barely enough to illuminate the ascent. Instead, it filled the area around them with shadows and figures that weren’t there.

The walk seemed to go on forever. As I got further, I started to hear noises. At first, it was only faint, but soon I could make out voices. It must come from the top of the hill and looking up, I could see lights.

With each step, more voices reached my ears. The light too grew brighter.

When I finally reached the top, it surprised me how many people there were. In the dim light, I could make out dozens, or even hundreds of forms. Some were sitting in front of smaller fires, others were dancing.

There was low music playing. It was a cacophony of sounds and humming that came together in a ghastly, almost hypnotic melody. It was strangely enticing, calling me forward to join the dancers.

What sort of festivity was this? Wasn’t it the middle of the week?

As I watched them, some of these dancers were shifting and moving their bodies in strange ways. They were entangling each other like snakes, only to separate again moments later. I wasn’t sure what I saw in what little light there was.

Standing there, I felt misplaced. What strange gathering had I stumbled upon here? It was probably for the best if I left.

When I turned around, I froze.

For a second I saw the familiar outlines of my city, the buildings, the streets, the lights, and the parks. Then a sprawling, greenish-black metropolis replaced it. It was an unplanned, grown-together mess, more organic than architectural. It reminded me of a giant colony of mushrooms and not a city. A bluish light illuminated the many different levels and areas of this abominable city.

While I still tried to grasp what was going on, things in front of me shifted once more. The mushroom city was gone, and now I saw an almost empty plain. Here and there I could make out groups of tents and hairy beings that shuffled around them.

Moments later, an alien landscape replaced the plain. It was a dark, gray floor, from which strange whitish things extended into the sky. At first, I thought they were constructions, but soon I saw what they really were. It was gigantic living organisms. Those giants stood unmoving, their many arms wrapped around their bodies. They were towering over the hill in sheer endless rows. I shuddered when I saw their faces. They were all looking skyward in a haunting, almost pleading expression.

Then I saw my city again.

What was that just now? What had I… seen? Am I hallucinating?

I looked around and smelled the air, but there was nothing. Everything was normal. No one else was alarmed. Was I the only one that had noticed it? Before I could follow that train of thought, my city vanished once more.

This time it changed to an endless blue ocean, under which I saw a shadow of colossal proportions. As I watched on, it moved closer to the surface. The waves exploded into foam, but I didn’t see what revealed itself.

Right at that time I felt a hand on my shoulder and jerked around. Behind me stood a figure in dark clothes. An equally dark mask was hiding its face.

“First time here, struggler?” the figure asked me. Its voice was calm, almost reassuring.

After my initial shock was gone, I nodded.

“You are lucky to have ended up here and not in one of the other places.”

“Wait, what is this place? What sort of gathering is this?”

And then I pointed at what had been a giant ocean moments before.

“And what the hell is this!?” I asked.

By now reality had changed into a scorched plain, covered in fire and volcanic ashes. In the back, I saw a massive, flaming mountain. An endless army of dark creatures flooded from a crack in its middle.

“Just one of the many manifestations of reality.”

I turned towards my interlocutor with an empty face. What the hell was he going on about?

“Are you trying to tell me that those are different dimensions or something?”

I must be dreaming. I had most likely fallen asleep in front of my computer. None of this could be real.

“That would be much too easy an explanation. The form a reality takes always depends on those who are looking at it.”

“Then why are they all so horrific?” I asked as the sight in front of me shifted once again.

“What makes you think they are horrific?”

I looked at him and then at the muddy plain beyond. Disgusting, hairy insectoids populated it.

“But this is just…” I blurted out.

“It might be for you, struggler, but what would they think about your reality?”

I couldn’t answer. How could I say anything to something like this? This whole thing was absurd, yet I understood the implication he was making.

I couldn’t see my new friend’s face behind the mask, but somehow I knew he was smiling.

“So, what is this place up here?” I asked once more, this time in a more demanding tone.

For a moment he was quiet and seemed to watch yet another manifestation of reality with interest.

This one was normal enough. It was a land covered in lush, green vegetation. Scores of white creatures moved around atop the trees. They were too far away to recognize their features, but they were scarcely human. After a while, my interlocutor spoke again.

“We are at a constant.”

When he saw the look on my face, he started to explain.

“A constant is a place in the net of the different manifestations of reality that is always the same.”

“How did I get here?”

“There are many ways one can stumble upon such a place. Many do, but only a few ever realize it. Others search them out, like them.”

With that, he pointed at some of the dancers behind us that were moving around their small fires.

“But how did I get here? I was taking a walk, and this hill appeared out of nowhere.”

My interlocutor giggled.

“So that’s how it was.”

I waited for him to say more, but he kept quiet. For a while I stood there, next to him, looking down as one horrific reality followed another. At times, I thought I saw my city again, but I couldn’t be sure.

“How do I get back? Do I wake up?”

“Wake up from what?”

“I am asleep, aren’t I? This is all a dream, right?”

I got no answer.

“Oh, come on,” I cursed to myself, “stupid brain. Okay, did I pass out? Am I at the hospital? Did I die? What is it?”

With that, he started to laugh.

“None of those. You are wide awake. You are here. At this very moment, this is your reality.”

After a brief pause he continued, but this time he was musing on, more to himself, than to me.

“Your kind is strange, struggler. I have watched countless manifestations in the net of realities. There are so many different ones, but yours is one of those that still puzzles me. It is so closely influenced, yet so reluctant to see. Everything, all hints, all touches, you call them illusions, hallucinations, or dreams.”

A shiver went down my back as I listened to these words. I wondered what he was talking about. Why are his words so cryptic? Was he talking about religion? About God? About miracles? Or something completely different? I was about to ask again, as the low music around us stopped.

The twisting, dancing bodies all came to a rest. Finally, a new fire was lit in the middle of the procession. At first, it was nothing but a small flame. Within seconds it grew into a large purple fire before it became a column that extended into the sky. Further and further it reached, and for the first time, I looked at what was above us.

Instead of the night sky, there was an immeasurable amount of stars. It was as if space itself was alit. I could see strange, glowing, translucent beings that moved between them. They reminded me of spiders, because of their many limbs.

“What are…?”

“They are the menders of reality. Gods that are endlessly creating, fixing, and changing all these different realities. They dangle from the net of reality itself, tending to it and ever-extending it.”

For a long while, I watched the glimmering beings. I watched as they crawled on the thin, almost invisible net that was spanning between the stars.

I noticed, too, certain darker parts, which were devoid of stars and light. I turned back to ask my interlocutor about those.

By now, though, I could make out many of the other dancers. I cringed back a few steps in sheer fear and disgust. I had to cover my mouth not to scream out loud. What I had thought were unnaturally twisted dances, was their true nature.

“What the hell are they!?” I asked in shock.

“The same as you. Strugglers that came here as you did, some by accident, others by their own volition.”

I scanned the group of monstrous strugglers around the pillar of purple fire. Some were humanoid. Others looked like wild beasts. I saw a twisted abomination of grown together flesh that almost made me gag. Another one was nothing but a shifting mass of light and particles.

It took me quite a while before I could avert my eyes from the spectacle.

“So you are a struggler, too?” I asked him.

“No. I am a guide. I am here for strugglers like you who recognize that they are at a different place. I help to bring context, to explain things, and to keep order where order is needed.”

“Keep order, where order is needed…?”

He chuckled for a bit before answering my question.

“To make sure you find your way back.”

“Are you a human like me, then?”

“I take the form that is easiest to comprehend and speak the language you speak. My appearance differs, depending on who it is that comes here.”

For a while I eyed the guide, thinking about what his true form must be.

Then I turned towards the pillar again.

“What’s up with the fire?”

“It’s a ritual. They are calling on beings from outside to visit this constant. On rare occasions, it is the menders you saw before. Those you see here, they hope to learn, to be enlightened by a share of their knowledge. They want to know the secrets of reality itself. Only a select few were ever deemed worthy. But it can and did happen before.”

“To learn the secrets of reality?”

A strange desire was kindled inside of me. Understanding all this? Getting knowledge that no one else had? It was strangely alluring.

“Be warned, though. The menders are much too busy. Most of the time it is other beings that visit. It is the dark influences from outside who prey on those who want to learn. They will try to taint their minds.”

For a moment I shuddered as I thought back to those dark areas in the sky. Not even the menders seemed to visit them. What horrors were lurking there?

The strugglers near the pillar stepped closer, turning their faces upwards. A strange curiosity overcame me. I almost rushed forward to push myself between them.

Suddenly the guide next to me cringed back. Fear washed over me as I noticed the defensive posture he had taken.

I had no time to react. In an instant, the stars above us were blotted out as the sky turned into thick, heavy darkness. Then, for a short, terrible moment, I saw something different that almost broke my mind. I can’t hope to describe what it was.

Once it was over, I found myself on the ground. I was breathing heavily, covered in sweat, and my heart was beating against my chest.

For a moment the sky stayed dark. Then it turned back into the ocean of stars it was before. The flame pillar was gone.

Many other strugglers were on the ground like me, and I knew it had not been a benevolent visitor. I wondered if the few still standing had been waiting for this other type.

Still scared, I looked at the guide once more.

“Are we in danger?”

He laughed again.

“There is no danger at a constant. These are the rules. You can teach, and you can haunt. You can invite or reject. Yet, you can’t do anything without the will of the one you want to influence. That’s how it has been established.”

I didn’t try to understand what he was saying.

By now many of the other strugglers got up. They soon moved away from the remains of the pillar and walked towards the path ahead.

“Is it over?”

The guide nodded.

“So I have to leave as well?”

“No. There are no rules like that. Stay or leave. Relight the pillar or leave it as it is. It is all up to you.”

What a strange dream this is. For a moment I considered relighting the pillar to chance another visit. Then I changed my mind.

“How do I find my way back?”

“You follow the same path you used to get here. That’s all there is to it.”

For a moment I didn’t know what to do, then I gave the guide an awkward nod and went on my way. I wondered if there’d be any other strugglers on their way with me, but the path was empty. Was this path only for me?

As I descended the hill, I looked towards where my city should be and saw yet another terrifying world. I saw thousands of metallic monoliths that housed disgusting, slimy organisms. I felt sick as I looked at them, and instead I focused on the path ahead of me.

For a moment I wondered why the path looked the way it did. Then I remembered the words of the guide. If he took on the form easiest to comprehend for me, then did the constant itself too? Did it look different for all the other strugglers?

At the end of the path, I mustered up my courage to look away from it once more. This time it was unmistakably my city. As I got closer to the end, I wondered what would happen if I ignored the gate and crossed over from where I was.

The thought of ending up in one of the nightmarish visions I had seen made me discard the idea in an instant.

When I reached the end of the path, I hesitated for a moment. Once I was sure it was my city, I stepped through the gate.

I was back on the path along the riverside.

Next to me was the familiar dark river, and on the other side was the glowing city. I turned around to look at the hill one last time, but it had vanished.

Checking my phone revealed that it was still only around midnight. It felt as if I’d spent hours on the hill, at this constant. In reality, though, no time had passed at all.

Even now, weeks later, I am not sure what happened that night. The next day, life went on as it did before.

It felt like a dream. Had my mind drifted off while I walked or stood near the riverbank?

Somehow though, I can’t seem to shake off what the guide said about our reality:

“It is so closely influenced, yet so reluctant to see. Everything, all hints, all touches, you call them illusions, hallucinations, or dreams.”

The more I think about it, the more I am inclined to search for these influences, these signs. If only to prove that what happened that night was real.

Emily’s Envy

Emily always aimed to be at the top. She just had to be number one. There was one problem: her sister, Heather.

Heather had it all. She was pretty, smart, athletic, and by far the most popular girl in school. To top it all off, she didn’t even try or make a conscious effort. Emily herself was pretty and smart, too, but Heather always outshined her younger sister.

I got to know the two of them when I was in second grade. They had moved into the house next door with their father. It was only natural for us to become friends. Emily and I became especially close, given that we were in the same grade.

It’s hard to say when Emily’s envy began. I thought it started during middle school, but it must’ve been much earlier. Emily never showed it openly. In front of her sister and their father, she wore the mask of the ideal younger sibling. She’d always compliment her sister, but I could see the tiny cracks in her mask; the narrowed eyes, and the fake smile that stayed on for a bit too long.

I’d thought it was nothing but sisterly rivalry, but one late afternoon, as the two of us were walking home, I found out just how furious she was.

“She’s so goddamn perfect, it’s unfair!”

“Who is?”

“Her! Why’s everyone always talking about her? Today as well! ‘Oh, Emily, I’m sure one day you’ll be as pretty as your sister.’ Ugh, how I hate it!”

“Look who’s talking,” I said, laughing. “I mean, just look at-“

“Oh, shush, Lizzy!” she cut me off, staring me down. “That’s not the point.”

“I was just trying-“

“Just stop, okay? Do you have any idea how hard it is!?”

I sighed, but said nothing else.

“How many times do you think I have to hear how I’m almost as perfect as her? How do you think I feel when a guy I like asks me about her? I’m sick and tired of it!”

In her anger, she stomped on next to me, her hands balled into fists. For a moment, she stopped her angry tirade and bit down on her lower lip. Then another mumbled curse escaped her mouth. This was only the first of many similar outbursts.

When Heather graduated, she followed her dream of becoming a professional dancer. Emily thought her time to shine had come. Finally, her sister had left the throne to her. At least, that’s what Emily thought, but Heather proved to be an ever-looming shadow. Guys only talked about how they’d kill for a chance with her. The trophy case still showed her many accomplishments, and even the cheerleaders aspired to be just as good as Heather. No one ever talked about Emily, and I could see how that hatred was eating away at her.

Things changed two years later, when Emily and I graduated as well, and went on to university. Finally, Emily seemed to free herself from her sister’s shadow and to become a person of her own. Being the close friends we were, we decided to attend the same university. Emily majored in fashion design, while mousy little me went into the science field. We even moved into the same dorm. Sure, we weren’t dorm mates, but we lived only a single floor away from each other.

During our second semester, Facebook exploded in popularity. Having been on Myspace for years, I was quick to sign up. Emily was more reluctant, but after I’d pestered her for weeks, she made an account of her own. She was quick to discover her sister had a profile, too.

I had thought her obsession was long over, but now I realized just how deep her envy truly ran. Every once in a while, when I came to her room, I’d find her hunched over at her desk, leaning forward, and glaring at the computer screen. Sometimes, I’d watch her in fascinated trance before I made myself known. She went through her sister’s pictures, her posts, and even her friends list. She never admitted to it, and either minimized the browser or downplayed it by stating she was just looking for mutual friends. I knew what was going on, however, and I knew she was stalking her sister.

When Facebook launched the fan page feature, I suggested Emily might create one for her designs. At first she was against it, but once I pointed out the advantages, she gave in. To her, and even my surprise, she got quite a few initial fans. After some weeks, the number had grown to a hundred, and two months later, it was well above a thousand.

Then one day, when I came over to her dorm room, I found her on the phone.

“You have no idea how happy I am. I mean, more than a thousand people! It’s unreal!”

At first she didn’t even notice me, and seemed entirely absorbed in her conversation. While she bubbled into the phone, she was pacing the room, her face twisted into a forced smile. When she finally noticed me, I pointed at the phone in her hand.

“Oh, it’s Heather!”

I frowned for a moment, said a quick hello, and found myself a place to sit.

“Yeah, Lizzy helped me set it up.”

“No, I think that’s not it. Maybe I’m just talented, you know?”

She giggled into the phone, but it was so fake and hollow it made me shudder.

“Oh? Yeah, I guess. I mean, sure, I’d be happy to help.”

She said it in a voice as sweet as honey, but her face was distorted by this mockingly satisfied expression. I’d never seen her like that before.

“No, it’s not hard at all. I could even invite some of my friends to like your page.”

I sighed when she said this. Emily noticed, and instantly stared me down. I could only shrug in annoyance.

“What’s that Heather? Yeah, sure. Well, Lizzy’s waiting, gotta go, sorry.”

I looked up at Emily, who was beaming. Not at me, but at herself. It was ghastly, because I couldn’t remember when I’d last seen her that happy.

“What was that all about?” I asked.

“I told Heather a little about my fan page,” she said in the most innocent of voices.

She told me she’d called her sister because she missed her. After all, she was the only family she’d left. The topic of the fan page came up by sheer chance. Once it was out, though, Emily had to tell her sister all about it. After a while, Heather wanted to know more.

“I mean, I had to help her, right?”

I nodded, but I knew what this was really about. For the first time, Emily was the popular one, and Heather could use her help. I could see how she relished the feeling, the look of bliss on her face, the long torn-out breaths she took, and, of course, the fact she couldn’t seem to stand still. She was out of it.

Every time Heather called her, Emily was in that same state of euphoric bliss. Her eyes were wide, her mouth warped into this ghastly, over-drawn smile, and her eyes were glowing with an almost manic light. It didn’t matter where Emily was or what she was doing. We were at the bar? She’d rush off to the toilet. We were in the study hall? She’d leave for half an hour. Even when the two of us were hanging out with friends, she would rush off to answer the phone.

I tried to talk to her about it multiple times, but she always shrugged it off. After all, Heather was her sister, so she had to help her out. I was annoyed at her behavior, but more than anything, I was hurt. She was never like that when it was just the two of us. I was supposed to be her best friend!

All that changed a few months later. I could instantly tell something was wrong with Emily. She was fidgety, nervous, and constantly on edge. Whenever she could, she’d check Facebook, and I could always see that weary expression on her face. I didn’t know what exactly was going on, but I was sure it was related to Heather.

Then, one day when I was on my way to my room, things took a turn for the worse. People were whispering in the hallway, and I noticed a crowd had formed on Emily’s floor. Someone was yelling and screaming. When I got closer, I saw people standing in front of Emily’s door.

“That freaking…! Why’s it always her?! It’s always… Fuck!”

It was Emily. From behind the closed door, I could hear more curses mixed with the sound of things breaking. I tried to open the door, but found it locked.

“Hey! Emily? What’s going on?”

I knocked on the door. First gently, but soon I was pounding against it.

“Are you okay? What’s-?”

Suddenly, the tore was torn open, and I found myself face to face with her. She looked terrible: her hair was wild, her eyes were bloodshot and puffy from crying, and her mouth tight, hard line. The room behind her was in utter chaos. The remains of her belongings and various sketches and designs littered the floor.

“W-What are you doing?” I asked, confused.

“You,” she spat, staring daggers at me.

Then she took a step forward and pushed me back.

“This is all your fault!”

“Wait, what are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about that stupid fan page! If you wouldn’t have told me to set this thing up, then Heather would’ve never-“

“This is about Heather?”

“Of course it is! Do you have any idea how well her page is-“

I cut her right off.

“First of all, weren’t you helping her the entire time? What did you expect? Second of all, who cares?”

“I fucking care, Lizzy!” she snapped at me.

She trembled, and tears of rage streamed down her face.

“Why’s she always got to be better than me? Can’t she let me have anything?!”

“You want to know why? Because Heather doesn’t care about popularity or being better than others.”

When she heard this, Emily pushed me once more, this time harder. I stumbled backward and hit my head against the wall. I opened my mouth to yell at her, but when I saw her standing there, I almost laughed. She looked like a pouty little child. Crying, her hands balled into fists, and biting down on her lower lip. Her eyes, however, told me a different story. They were full of hate, and for a moment, I thought she’d pounce on me. Instead, she just stumped on the ground, and let out a toneless scream of frustration.

At that moment, I turned around, made my way through the crowd, and returned to my room. When I went to check how much better Heather’s page was doing, I saw Emily had already deleted hers. After this incident, I didn’t talk to her for weeks. Her obsession with her sister had annoyed me for months, and this was the last straw. I was done with her for good.

Then, one morning, she called me out of the blue. I stared at the phone, reluctant to answer. I half-expected her to hurl more insults at me, or worse, cry about her sister again.

When I eventually picked up, she was in hysterics.

“Heather was in an accident!” she said before I could so much as say hello.

“Wait, Emily, what happened?”

“I don’t know. I’m not at the hospital yet!”

“Where are you at!? I’m coming, too!”

At the hospital, we soon learned what had happened. On the way to one of her performances, a car had crashed into Heathers. One of her legs was almost crushed in the collision, and she had to be taken to the emergency room. The doctors were able to save the leg, but it would be paralyzed.

When Emily heard the news, I thought I saw the hint of a smile on her face. It was only there for the blink of an eye, and I was sure I’d imagined it. All I saw now was sadness and tears. We hugged each other tenderly. Her clinging to me, rambling on about her sister. I just held her, trying to comfort her, but the image of that fleeting smile stayed with me.

When we could finally enter Heather’s room, she didn’t look up. Her face was entirely empty, and all the color had drained from it. Her eyes were staring ahead at nothing, and her mouth was slightly open. She just lay there, unmoving, like a broken and discarded doll. I couldn’t imagine how she felt. Having your dream taken from you in a mere instant… You could see it in her, and you could feel it in the oppressive atmosphere that filled the room.

From that day onward, Emily visited her sister daily. During that time, I didn’t see or hear much of her. The few times we actually met up, it was only ever for a few minutes at a time.

“It doesn’t matter what happened before. We only have each other, Lizzy. Since Dad died, there’s no one else.”

Once Heather was released from the hospital, Emily moved in with her in their old home. She took it upon herself to take care of her sister. To do that, she also took a break from university.

When I finally found the time to visit them, not much had changed about Heather. She would talk to me, but it was nothing but mundane things. Her voice was emotionless, and I could tell she didn’t care about the words she was saying, didn’t want to convey anything. No, she just went through the motions. The dream she’d lost, her dancing, however, was never so much as whispered about.

As the weeks passed, Heather slowly improved. Occasionally, I could see these short, shy smiles wash over her face as we talked, and it told me that life was returning to her. Emily, too, had changed, and seemed truly happy about her sister’s recovery. I hadn’t seen them like that in forever. True sisters, bound by a deep-set affection for one another.

I visited the sisters a lot during that time. At first, it was only to help Emily move, and set up a small studio for herself. These initial visits, however, were enough to rekindle the old friendship the three of us had shared. We spent countless evenings talking about the fun we’d had as kids together. Yet whenever I left, there was this strange feeling. Emily talked so happily about those days, but I couldn’t forget how she’d resented her sister back then, constantly ranting on about how much she hated her. I told myself she’d changed, that it was all in the past, but was it truly? I could only hope so.

As Heather’s leg healed, she found her independence again, allowing Emily to dive back into her fashion. One evening, while Emily worked on a new piece, I had a long conversation with Heather.

“I’m still not sure what to do with, well… life,” she confessed sadly, glancing at her crippled leg.

I was quiet and shuffled around before I got an idea.

“Why don’t you help Emily with her fashion?”

Heather gave me that same shy smile before she dismissed the idea, laughing.

“Oh, Lizzy, there’s no way I’d be good at it. I was never good at anything, except…”

Once more, she was quiet but I gently urged her on.

“It would give you something to do, and it could give you a way to repay Emily for everything she’s done.”

Eventually, she agreed to think about it. It was the last time I should ever talk to her.

Some weeks ago, I’d been offered an internship, but I hesitated. Moving to the other end of the country meant leaving the two of them behind. Yet the closer they grew, the more I felt like an outsider, nearby, but no longer part of what they shared. So, I eventually left. Life was stressful, work was hard, and slowly, the sisters and I drifted apart. Messages became scarce, and I didn’t want to be intruding. For the first time, the two of them seemed like a family again, as if they had rediscovered something long lost.

Two months later, in the late evening, after a long day at work, I noticed I had several missed calls from Emily, but also a voice mail. When I heard her quiet voice, riddled with sobs, my heart instantly sank. As I listened, I held the phone in my shaking hand before I slumped down with tears in my eyes. Heather had killed herself by jumping out of a window.

I tried to call Emily, but she declined, and messaged me she wasn’t able to talk to me right now. With shaking hands, I typed out a response, telling her I was always there for her and that she could reach out whenever she needed me. Then, as my worries about the way she acted intensified, I booked a ticket back home. Sitting on the train, I didn’t understand what had happened. Why… this? Why now? Heather had gotten so much better, hadn’t she? I thought back to that conversation about her wanting to help Emily, about how happy the two of them had been, and yet… Had I just not seen her pain?

At the funeral, a devastated Emily told me that her sister had never truly gotten over the fact that she couldn’t dance anymore. She always put on a happy face, and never truly told anyone, but Emily had noticed how it was eating away at her.

“I should’ve seen it coming, but…” she said, with tears in her eyes.

During the gathering at the funeral, Emily revealed that she’d name her newest collection after her sister. It was to honor her memory, she said.

In the months to follow, the collection turned out to be an enormous success. Not financially, but the positive reception was overwhelming. Many people, both friends and strangers, urged her to put it up for sale. It seemed Emily’s career in fashion was off to a great start.

That’s until I discovered the truth.

By that time, my internship was long over, and I was living at the dorms again. One day, I couldn’t access my Facebook account. To restore my password, I had to access the old email I’d used to sign up. After I’d logged in, I had a quick look through the emails, but all I saw was spam, except for one. It was an email from Heather, sent about half a year ago. I felt cold when I saw this. My heart skipped a beat, and goosebumps appeared all over my arms. I hovered over it, but somehow, it felt wrong, like I was… dishonoring her memory. Then, after the initial shock and confusion were gone, I clicked it.

In it, Heather thanked me for urging her to work with Emily. At first, she only supported Emily here and there, but before long, she grew to enjoy it. She told me she’d started to work on a few pieces of her own. She couldn’t wait to show them to Emily, but before that, she wanted a second opinion. At first, I sat there, confused, not understanding what I was looking at. Wasn’t that Emily’s new collection? The one she’d named after Heather? Then why’d Heather sent those? How did she have those? Then it hit me. Emily must’ve stolen them from her and… Confusion was replaced by anger. I thought about Heather’s shy smile when I’d urged her to help Emily, her excitement in the email. She’d sounded so happy, so proud about those designs of hers. I wanted to scream, to understand why Emily would do something like that.

I was at her house an hour later, the same house where Heather had killed herself. When she opened the door, I confronted her about it right away. Emily denied everything. It was all bullshit, a fake email sent by someone jealous of her newfound success. Why did I believe it? How could I think she’d do something like that? The more I pressed her, however, the more agitated she became, the more desperate. She was ranting on and on, making up scenario after scenario, stumbling over her words, half-screaming at me.

At first, Heather had never even talked to her. Then she admitted Heather helped her out a little, before one sketch was by Heather, but only one. Finally, she threw her hands down, stomping on the ground in frustration like she’d done so many times before, and confessed everything.

“It was always just her! Heather this, Heather that. Everyone only ever talked about her. How she was oh so perfect. But then poor little Heather had her accident.

As she stood there, I saw it again, that same smile I thought I’d seen at the hospital. Now it was more pronounced, more disgusting, full of vile satisfaction, and I knew it hadn’t been my imagination.

“But you know what!? Once her dream was shattered, she couldn’t help but barge into mine. Mine! I’d finally found something I was good at. And you know what? You know fucking what, Lizzy? Here comes crippled Heather again!”

In her anger, she was pacing left and right, had balled her hands into fists and wasn’t even breathing as she spat her words at me.

“Oh, how she asked, with that silly little smile of hers. ‘Lizzy said I should try out fashion. Maybe I could try it on my own. I just want to see how things turn out.’ And guess what? Things turned out amazing!”

She threw her arms up as she said that last sentence.

“Heather’s designs were better than anything I ever did! Anything!”

She laughed and shook her head in disbelief and sheer outrage.

“She didn’t even know what she was doing! Can you imagine it, Lizzy? ‘Am I doing it right, Emily? Do you think it works?’ Oh yes, Heather, it worked! It was fucking great, Heather!”

She turned towards me, her eyes wide.

“Can you believe it, Lizzy? Can you!?”

“I, I don’t-“

“Of course you don’t! I couldn’t either. But this… this bitch! She was better than me again. Same as always. But this time, I wouldn’t let her get away with it. Not this time!”

Emily still stared me down, but I watched as her mouth slowly warped into a grotesque smile.

“You know what I did? You know what I did when she showed me her finished pieces? I laughed right in her face. ‘Sorry, Heather, but dear god, those are terrible.’ That’s what I said!”

A mad giggle burst from Emily’s mouth before she began cackling. I felt sick to my stomach.

“I told her I had to hide them away before anyone could see them. ‘We wouldn’t want people to think not only your leg but also your arms are paralyzed, wouldn’t we?’”

With that, she broke into bouts of laughter that rippled through her entire body. For a moment, her euphoric rage become so much, I thought she’d keel over.

“My god, you should’ve seen her face. It was, it was-“

She had to stop to catch her breath, and for a few moments she just stood there panting, still shaken by the remnants of that mad bout of laughter. Insanity, I thought, pure insanity.

“It was the best thing ever! The oh-so-great Heather was crying right in front of me! It felt so damn good!” she said, red-faced and beaming at me.

“But I wasn’t done with her. Oh no, I was not. I kept demanding she’d help me. It was the least she could do. Maybe she’d even be able to pick up a thing or two. And you know what? Innocent, sweet little Heather agreed. It felt so good to torment her like this, Lizzy, so damn good!”

For a moment she was hugging herself, and I saw her entire body quivering with excitement. Then the mad smile was back.

“It was so funny. ‘This is no good, Heather. What are you even doing, Heather? My god, you’re ruining everything, Heather!’ Oh, how the tears kept flowing!”

“Don’t tell me because of this she-?”

“Killed herself? Of course! And you know what? I could’ve stopped her. I heard how she dragged herself up to the attic on that leg of hers. Could hear the creaking of the floorboards above me. And you know what, Lizzy? I could’ve run after her and told her I didn’t mean any of it.”

And finally, a cruel grin showed on her face, one with the corners of her mouth almost up to her ears. The whites of her teeth showed like the canines of a mad, rabid animal. It was nothing but a savage look.

“But I didn’t. I just leaned back in my chair and closed my eyes. Then minutes later, I heard the impact.”

A wave of nausea washed over me. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. This woman, this disgusting creature; how had I ever been friends with her!? But then I saw tears streaming from her eyes, and she started sobbing heavily.

“Emily, you-“ I started, but my voice trailed off.

I’d thought those were tears of guilt that she’d realized what her hateful obsession had driven her to do. When she spoke again, however, I realized how wrong I was.

“I was… I mean, I was so happy, Lizzy. Finally, I could be the popular one. Finally, it would be me!”

She stood there, her eyes wide and glowing, her face radiant, half-dancing across the room as if she was having the most beautiful of dreams. I watched the insane display, shaken to my core, not able to find any words for this absurdity, for this display of insane joy. After only a few seconds, she came to a halt. Her head jerked in my direction, her face turned hard, and her eyes came to rest on me.

“If it wasn’t for that damned email,” she spat. “Things would’ve been perfect, but you had to read it, didn’t you, Lizzy!?”

She took a threatening step towards me, then another, like a predator ready to pounce on its prey.

“But you know, no one has to find out about it,” she said, her voice dripping with malice, and an unsaid, lingering threat.

As she moved closer towards me, I backed away, my breath coming in short, hard bursts. She couldn’t mean to… Before I could finish the thought, her fingers closed around a pair of sharp scissors. I backed away, tried to run, but she was faster, and got a hold of me. My heart was pounding in my chest. I had to run, to get away, but I couldn’t. Then she raised her hand, ready to bring the scissors down on me. I screamed, raising my arms instinctively to protect myself.

“Emily, don’t!”

For a moment, I could almost feel the piercing pain, but then, when I looked up, I found her just standing there. She was shaking, and a moment later, the scissors dropped from her hand.

“Oh god, Lizzy, what am I even…”

Then she opened her arms, staring at me with a pleading expression on her face.

“Please, Lizzy, you don’t have to-“

“Get the fuck away from me!” I screamed at her and pushed myself past her.

Once I was back home, I revealed everything. With trembling fingers, I typed out a long Facebook post about all the disgusting things my former best friend had done, including the truth about Emily’s new collection. After that, I sent Heather’s email to everyone I knew.

It didn’t take long for people to turn on Emily. My phone rang day and night. Calls and texts by Emily kept flooding it. At first she was begging me to forgive her, but slowly, they grew more vitriolic, even threatening. I ignored them all. Instead, I watched as all the praise and admiration for Emily slowly turned to condemnation.

An investigation about her involvement in Heather’s death was started, but nothing came of it. Suicide is a divisive issue, and my story couldn’t be proven by a single email. In the end, it was ruled that the driving force behind Heather’s suicide had been her ongoing depression.

I don’t know what happened to Emily after all that. For a while, random accounts posted spiteful comments on my Facebook profile and the memorial page Heather’s friends had created. Everyone knew it was Emily.

After a while, however, things got quiet. Some said Emily finally moved on with her life. Others said her guilt finally got the better of her, and she followed her sister into an early grave. If she’s alive, however, I’m sure her envy still torments her.

Even to this day.

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Feral Lust

These days there’s an almost endless supply of two things: information and porn.

It’s all thanks to new technology and the emergence of the internet. There are thousands of porn sites and millions of pornographic videos out there, and each day the number is growing.

While most people consume porn occasionally, some grow obsessed with it, addicted even. My cousin Lester was a prime example.

Growing up, the two of us were close, almost like brothers. Even as a child I noticed that Lester was different. He was a typical nobody. There was nothing interesting about him, and he was overlooked wherever he was. He was a nobody at school, a nobody at home, and once he’d graduated a nobody at work.

He’d been a tiny and unremarkable child and grew into a short, chubby man. His entire demeanor, his gait and his slumped down shoulders gave you the impression of a small animal trying not to be noticed. It wasn’t uncommon for people to forget that Lester was even present.

Now don’t get me wrong, Lester was strange, but he wasn’t sad or depressed. He even liked things the way they were, and his life was alright. A few years after he graduated high school, he started dating Lisa. Soon after, the two of them got married. They were made for each other. Lisa was a typical wallflower and as unremarkable as Lester himself.

While the two of them were an odd couple, I could tell they were happy.

About a year ago Lester lost his job at the literary archives. Budget cuts, his employer said. After working alone in a dusty room for more than a decade, what little social skills Lester had before were now gone. Combine this with an average high school diploma and limited qualifications and you knew finding a new job would be tough for him.

It was me who suggested he should search for work online. Lester admitted he didn’t know a thing about the internet. He and Lisa were old-fashioned and had ignored most technological advances.

One afternoon I invited him over to my place and took it upon myself to introduce Lester to the wonders of the online world. He was hooked, and about a week later he bought his first computer and connected it to the internet.

At first, there was no day without Lester asking for my help. How could you search for a job online, how did the job exchange sites work, how could he send an email, and so on. To be honest, it was quite tiring, but before long he got a hang of things and explored the internet on his own.

He tried to introduce the internet to Lisa, but she didn’t show much interest in it. She was a practical person, and her prime concern was for Lester to find a new job.

It didn’t take long before Lester stumbled upon internet porn.

I found out by accident when I visited him one evening. His browser had been acting up, and he needed me to fix it. While I deleted some malware, I also caught a glimpse of his browser history. There I saw that he’d found his way to a porn site.

At first, he denied it. When I pressed him on the matter though, he admitted he’d clicked on an ad that took him to the page. He knew this content existed, but not that there was so much of it.

I thought it was hilarious. His expression when I caught him was priceless. Lester had never been much of a sexual person and was never comfortable talking about those things.

One time, during a party at my place, Lester got drunk, and we talked about these more private issues. Of course, he and Lisa had sex before, but Lester said it was always an awkward affair. After their marriage, it turned into a once-a-month type of thing before they eventually gave up on it. By the time he found internet porn, I knew it had been years since he’d last had sex. I couldn’t blame him for finding it interesting.

To be honest, I was even a little relieved. For the past year, I’d thought Lester had given up on sex and it had become another thing he thought was for other people.

At first, Lester would only watch the occasional video. He talked to me about how it felt wrong or even immoral to watch those types of videos. I assured him, though, that there was nothing wrong about it and almost everyone watched porn. Considering his sexless marriage, I was sure he could use the release.

Still, Lester didn’t want Lisa to find out about it. So he did what he’d done as a teenager who still lived with his parents. He waited for her to fall asleep, snuck up to the computer, and watched a video or two in secret.

As the weeks passed, Lester grew more and more frustrated with the job hunt. One day, when we hung out together, the poor guy broke into a bit of a rant. It felt useless and like a waste of time. Why did he even search for job offers and send out applications if no one read them, anyway? What use did it all have?

By now, he said, he’d found a few YouTubers he liked, and he enjoyed posting on Reddit. He said he needed to take a break for a bit. To be honest, I understood how he felt.

The problem was, Lisa didn’t, and it was only a matter of time till she caught on to some other things he did online.

One day she got home from work early and didn’t find Lester searching for a job. Instead, she found her husband in front of his computer, masturbating to a video of an orgy.

At first, Lisa didn’t understand what Lester was doing. When it finally clicked she screamed at him, calling him disgusting. The resulting, almost one-sided argument didn’t last long and ended with her leaving.

A few days later Lester told me about the entire thing. Truth be told, I thought Lisa’s reaction was ridiculous, and I assured him she’d be back, eventually. In the meantime, Laster could focus on finding a new job and getting his life back on track.

The problem was, Lester had given up looking for work. I didn’t know it of course and he kept reassuring me he was busy sending out applications every day. In reality, though, he was busy doing other… things.

The next time I came over, he didn’t even bother to hide it anymore. The moment I stepped into the living room, I was greeted by a hardcore fetish video that played on his computer.

Lester told me he’d only read about it on Reddit and clicked on it when the doorbell rang. He didn’t even have the time to look at it, much less close it. He was never good at lying.

As time went on, things got worse. Lester didn’t talk about job hunting anymore. Instead, all he talked about was porn and different pornstars. Whenever I visited him, he seemed fidgety and nervous as if he couldn’t wait for me to leave again.

I finally told Lisa how ridiculous her reaction had been and that she should talk to him again. I was about to tell her what state he was in when she cut me off. She’d been back many times already. At first, she’d tried to reason with Lester, then she’d confronted him, but soon she gave up. All he did was to nod in agreement without even listening to her. An hour later, he’d be back in front of his porn videos.

Lisa said Lester didn’t even look up when she packed her things and moved back in with her mother.

As much as I tried to talk to Lester and to reason with him, nothing happened. As with Lisa, he’d nod and pretend to listen, but he wasn’t there the entire time. I wouldn’t have it though, but even when I got angry, it was the same thing. He’d not listen, shrug, and wait for me to leave.

After my outburst, I didn’t bother with him for a while.

I only saw him again when his computer broke. He called me over and over, apologizing and pleading with me to help him fix it. In the end, I went, if only to bring an end to his constant calls.

When I arrived his house looked different. His usual well-cared-for lawn was overgrown and almost wild. The windows were stained and the curtains dirty and closed off. When I looked at his car, I could’ve sworn it hadn’t been moved since I was there the last time, more than a month ago.

I didn’t even need to ring the doorbell. As soon as I reached the door Lester ripped it open, telling me how happy he was to see me. I could tell he must’ve been waiting for me all day.

As I stepped inside after him the smell was the first thing that hit me. It was a mixture of sweat and the sweet moldy odor of rotten food. I had to cover my mouth, but Lester didn’t seem to be bothered by it at all. All he cared for was his computer, and he almost rushed back to it. Every once in a while he looked over his shoulder to make sure I was still there.

He was slimmer than I remembered him, but also much more unkempt. What few clothes he wore were dirty, unwashed, and stuck to his greasy body. His hair and beard had grown out. I’d never seen Lester with a beard, and now I knew why. He looked ridiculous and not only a bit creepy.

While the rest of the house was dirty, the worst was his desk. More than a dozen empty delivery boxes were stacked on top of it, and used tissues littered the floor. I had to fight the urge to gag.

Lester didn’t even notice how disgusted I was. He rambled on about what was wrong with his computer, cursing every other sentence. As I looked up at him I saw how tired he looked and how bloodshot his eyes were. I joked about how he should spend more time outside and was about to invite him out, but he didn’t even react to it.

I wondered what had happened to my cousin, my friend. Sure, he’d always been an oddball, but now I didn’t even recognize him anymore.

As I watched him now, nervous, fidgety, dirty, he looked like a different person. Where once had been an ordinary member of society was now nothing but a crazy street person, or hell, a wild animal.

Finally, I got the computer working again. Lester thanked me with a quick nod and a few mumbled words before he pushed me off the seat. For a while, he browsed the web and opened a few threads on Reddit at random. I could feel how nervous he was and how desperately he waited for me to leave again.

The moment I was out of the house, I told myself I had to do something. Lester was family, after all.

To be honest, I’d thought this little obsession with porn was a phase that would be over quickly. I’d never thought things would get this bad, but who could’ve known that it would spiral out of control like that.

I went straight to Lisa and told her Lester needed help. At first, she said she wanted nothing to do with him anymore and closed the door in front of me. When I rang again though, her feelings betrayed her. She started crying and told me Lester had never been much of a man, but he’d been her man. She wanted him back!

Since it was almost evening, we arranged to meet again in a few days to talk about what we could do about him.

When the police showed up at my front door, the next morning I didn’t understand what brought them there. Only after I’d answered a few questions did they tell me the full story.

Lisa had gone over to Lester on her own right after we talked. Inside the house, Lester must have attacked her and knocked her unconscious with a blunt object. After that, they concluded he’d dragged her to the bedroom, ripped her clothes off, and bound her to the bed frame. Then he’d raped her.

It was Lisa’s mother who’d called the police when her daughter hadn’t returned home all night.

When the police arrived at Lester’s house the scene they found was surreal. Stacks of half-rotten delivery food were everywhere. The only source of light was the computer in the living room on which an endless stream of porn videos was playing.

They found the worst in the bedroom. The air was damp and heavy with the odor of sweat and body fluids. Sex toys of all sorts littered the floor and the bed.

Lisa’s body was gagged and hung lifeless between the ropes that bound her. Lester was still on top of her, going at without even noticing the police. It took the combined effort of three police officers to tear him off his wife’s body. He was in a frenzied state of almost feral lust.

A later examination showed that Lisa had been dead for hours and must’ve died because of excessive strangulation.

Lester himself had taken a variety of potency enhancers and other pills.

When the police checked his computer and internet history, they found nothing but porn. For weeks or even months, Lester had consumed nothing but porn.

The trial was quick and simple, and Lester was convicted for sexual assault and manslaughter.

I only visited him once. The moment he entered the visitation area, I could tell he wasn’t the same person anymore.

We exchanged greetings and talked for a bit. He didn’t say a word about Lisa, but within minutes he turned the conversation to porn. It was terrible here, and he wasn’t allowed to use a computer or to watch any of it.

When he smiled at me awkwardly and begged me to bring him some adult magazines, I left.

It was the last time I ever talked to him.

Never Try to Cheat the Wrong People

Gary was an oddball, a weirdo. His jokes always went a bit too far and too dark.

I got to know him after joining a Skype chat for aspiring online entrepreneurs.

We were both enthusiastic about earning a living online and make it big one day. Like me, Gary was frustrated about his day job, his lack of money and life in general.

Every member of the chat was a bloody beginner.

Like many other members of our group, Gary earned a big fat zero in his initial couple of months. What made him different from the rest of us was his drive and ambition. Even after many members gave up after not earning a dime, he kept going. He was the type who’d either make it or die trying. If for nothing else, I respected him for that.

It was another month later when he finally showed me a screenshot of his first few affiliate marketing commissions. Sure it wasn’t anything significant, but it was a good enough start.

For me, things didn’t go too well. Even after half a year of trying all sorts of ways and techniques, I hadn’t earned a thing. On the contrary, this whole endeavor had turned into a money sink for me. In the end, I gave up as well.

After that, I didn’t hear from Gary for quite some time. It was only after more than half a year had passed that he talked to me again. His first few commissions, he told me, had grown into a nice and steady income. He’d pretty much made it, I thought.

Finally, though, he asked me if I was interested in earning a bit of money. He had seen me vent in our entrepreneurial group chat; how I had all sorts of bills to pay and how I could barely afford to eat each month. He said he was going to earn some *real money* soon and he could use a few helping hands.

I told him I was in right away.

The following week we had a long voice call, and Gary told me about a few things he’d tapped into.

While online marketing is a vast, legitimate industry, it also has its dark sides. It is the same as real life. Most people stick to the legal ways of earning money. Not so Gary. For the first time, I started to see his true face and found out how unscrupulous and greedy he really was.

He started out with social media bots and automated blogs. He explained some of the details to me, but I didn’t understand even half of it.

When Gary found the adult niche, he said, he struck gold.

“It’s the perfect evergreen market, my friend. Everyone needs to rub one out every once in a while,” he said with a sleazy voice.

He went on to tell me about all the different niches he was working with: sex toys, erotica, hardcore porn and adult webcam sites.

One thing that went pretty well for him was setting up fake dating sites. That was also where I came into play. It was simple, he said. First, you set up a fake dating site. Then you add some premium features. Finally, you trick people to not only sign up for those but also for other adult subscriptions.

“There are so many suckers out there who are too horny to think straight. The moment they realize Maria ain’t real, they at least got themselves a subscription for Brazzers or BangBros. They should thank me for it!”

I didn’t feel too good about the whole thing. I guess, my need for money was stronger than my conscience. I got a percentage of each page’s earnings and the money added up.

I can’t tell anymore how many of those pages I created. It must have been dozens. They were really simple and really shitty, but they did the job. I was pretty sure though that I was not the only person Gary was working with. So the real numbers could very well have been in the three digits.

That was only the beginning though. If you dig deep enough, you’ll often end up with more than you bargained for. It was exactly what Gary had been looking for.

It was during one of our weekly Skype calls that he told me he had found some new business partners from overseas. The word overseas made me look up. It sounded like Gary was playing in the big league now. He told me it took him weeks of negotiations. He was now working with the owners of certain special interest sites and niche adult networks.

“Those are some huge, untapped markets, my friend!”

I wasn’t sure what he was talking about. Was it Japanese porn? That’s not untapped though. Or Russian webcam shows?

The latter proved not to be too far off. When I asked Gary what kind of stuff it was, he sent me a link to one of his partner’s pages. I am going to say one word: amputee-porn.

As soon as I’d seen some of the images, I hit the close icon of my browser.

“What the fuck kinda shit is that, man?” I yelled at him over Skype.

“Something that is gonna earn *me* a lot of money.” He had a big grin on his face as he said this.

I on the other hand was disgusted. I felt sick to my stomach. This stuff was wrong. I decided then and there to cut my ties with him.

“I am not going to get involved in this shit. This is just sick, man!”

“Oh, so now you got a conscience? You didn’t mind fucking people over before.”

“That was fucking different!”

“Well, tell me, don’t you need money? What about all those bills? You sure you want to keep working at your measly dead-end job?”

I didn’t say a thing.

“Guess you are just another poor sucker. I just have to find someone who has some actual balls.”

With that, he hung up. It was the last time I talked to him.

There was one thing he was right about though: There were enough people with desires that were a little odd or downright wrong. Join the cam show of a Lolita girl or pretty much any girl that looks a bit underage. You can always find a few sick fucks there. I am sure those are only the tip of the iceberg.

I thought I had heard the last of Gary the moment I cut ties with him. I had all but forgotten about him. That was until two huge, burly man jumped me one morning as I was about to leave my apartment. Without a word, they pushed me back inside and locked the door behind.

“Where’s your friend Gary?” one of them asked. He had a strong Eastern European accent.

I was about to ask who he was talking about. Then the name rang a bell.

“I have no clue. How’d I know?”

One of them stepped forward, raising his hands. I cringed back a few steps, toppling a chair in the course. It prompted a short laugh from the two of them.

“You worked with him.”

“That was more than a freaking year ago. After he got involved in some sick shit, I-”

I stopped talking. As I said it, it hit me. Those two guys were not with the police or any law enforcement. They were most likely involved in what I had called *sick shit* a moment ago. A knowing smile on their faces showed me I was correct.

There was no need for violence or even words anymore. I told them everything I knew about Gary. I showed them everything: all our past chat logs, all the payments I’d received from him, the fake sites I could still remember as well as all his online usernames, accounts and aliases.

They instructed me to forward all this to a specific email. There is one thing I learned that morning. Typing is hard when you’re shaking, and your hands are wet with sweat.

Once I sent the email, they merely nodded.

“That’s all,” the speaker of the two said, and they turned towards the door. Before they left, they said one more thing.

“Just so you know, we will know if you lied to us. If you did, we’ll find little Daniel, and we are going to cut off his hands.”

Daniel was my sister’s eight-year-old son.

For one more second, they studied my face. Then they left.

After this, I fell to the floor. All strength had left me.

“Holy shit,” I said over and over again.

What was that all about? What the fuck had Gary been messing with? What the fuck had he gotten me involved with?!

My question was answered about a week later. One of the old members of our Skype group sent me a news article.

Bizarre case puzzles authorities in L. A.

The article was about a presumed murder of a man in East Los Angeles. At about two in the morning, someone had broken into the victim’s penthouse apartment. They turned the place upside down but didn’t steal anything. The most bizarre thing about the case is what else they found. It was the victims lower legs, an arm, his ears and part of the lower jaw. The rest of the body has yet to be found.

Attached to the article was a picture of Gary.

I soon found out what Gary had been up to. He had become quite a prominent member of some of the online marketing forums I frequented. It was only natural that people looked into his activities as his case hit the news. Before long they uncovered more about the inner workings of his ventures.

What Gary had done was to play the middleman. He used special software to funnel part of his pages audiences to these special interest sites of his overseas partners.

At least for a while. A month into it, he got the idea of starting his own, private network. The goal was to cut out the backend and take all the profit for himself.

It hadn’t taken long for things to take shape. There are always people who are willing to go to certain lengths to earn money, especially if it is good money. So before long, he found the right people to work with and even a few models, if you could even call them models. From then on he’d start to send people to his pages, but only a few at a time.

Now I know Gary was not an idiot. He had always been careful, but I guess in the end he got a little too greedy. No one found out who Gary had gotten involved with. Some stories say it was the Russian Mafia, yet others say it was one of the many Balkan groups. Either way, one thing is clear: Gary tried to cheat the wrong people.

There is one last thing. It still makes me shiver even now. Some people did dig a little deeper. They found some of the pages Gary had been working with. He had taken a quick look at some of the many *models* featured on the page.

One of them was a severely mutilated man. He was missing all his limbs except the left arm, as well as his lower jaw.

Even in this state, I thought as I looked at the screenshots, there was no doubt who the man was.

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