The Silken Plains

"the Silken Plains"

    Below the red skies I rode. I had been riding so long I had begun to let the ache in my muscles fade out of my mind. I blinked hard a few times to get the weariness out of my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose as I gazed upon those bluish and violet hills in the distance, squinting under the orange dwarf sun's light searching for meaning among the shapes of the hills where there was none.

    To the east were pale purple and yellow grass on flat silken prairie stretching out as far as the eye could see until finally disappearing into colossal summits of hellish snow capped mountains. To the west were web-like pink and grayish forests where no light seemed to pierce. But I focused forward on the pastures straight ahead of me. Focused on those rolling plains of purple silk and blue meadow.  That’s where they were. 

    Night had begun to stretch across the starlit sky. The hellish orange and reddish hue of day started to become a deep grayish purple and blue as this planet's sun began to dip below the horizon revealing infinite sparkling points of pale light twinkling all across the sky. I knew I needed to set up camp soon and start a fire before the infinite dark swallowed what little light I had left. Before the terrors of these plains came crawling.  

    I knew I would be safe with a fire. Safe among its warm light. I had been riding these parts most of my life. Grew up learning these lands. Until I left for the municipality of Xenos. That’s where I met you. I always thought one day you would be here with me, thought maybe we would be looking up at the stars together watching the twin moons dancing, watching this planet's turquoise rings radiating their vibrant colors as they moved like rivers across the sky from one horizon to the other as they spun around the planet. I wonder where you are right now. I wonder if you even think about me? Or are you off planet somewhere? I guess it doesn't really matter.

    I needed to focus on making my fire instead of on thoughts of you; before all manner of human-sized creatures begin to crawl near. A large enough fire to have a circle of light of ten meters, I think that should be good enough. That's what I learned growing up. That’s what my dad taught me.  The light always kept the creatures away and there always needed to be a circle of ten meters of light. At least. Anything less and you’re asking for trouble.

    I rolled out my mat and tied my horse down inside the ring of light. I laid down upon the silken sheen of the pink and yellow dirt watching the massive rings above, silently swirling against star-ways and galaxies that were glowing behind them, flowing like a stream of shimmering water in the night sky; glimmering every star point with ivory diamond light. I think about you when I'm alone like this. When I watch the star-ways, wondering if you are looking at the same stars as me. Right at this moment, at the same time as me. Maybe we are connected in this moment without even knowing it.  When you left me, I was broken.  I thought there was nothing left for me.  It's because of you I am out here right now riding across these silken plains again hunting those things. I also needed to get away from the suffocation of the municipality. I needed to get away from everything and figure my life out.  I needed to make some money.

    Night had begun to spread itself across the plains and it didn't take long for things to start moving inside the darkness. I could already hear all the prairie's living things crawling near, pattering quickly with their strong legs and coming right to the edge of the light. I can see one of them already. I can see all of its fifteen eyes glowing an emerald green, reflecting the flickering light from my fire. Its alien clicking sounds cackling and crunching into the night air. Its many-jointed limbs tapping into the dirt as it moves around eagerly just beyond the edges of the light.  This massive creature looked like an eight digit hand but with large, spiny, hairy legs instead of fingers. Crawling and pattering quickly back and forth amongst the darkness just beyond where I can see. Its leathery and muscular body moving among the shadows.  Kicking dirt and bouncing eagerly, trying to figure out a way to grab me and drag me away into the darkness.

    They were spiders the size of a full grown person. They were common here. That’s why I was really here.  I needed their venom to sell.  I needed to make some money. And spider venom was really valuable around these parts.  I knew they never came into the light, but they always tested how close they could get because as my dad told me, they could always smell the flesh of humans. You always had to be alert.  Always had to be aware of where they were.  I saw one rip apart a man to pieces once. It grabbed the man with its legs and stretched him apart until he was ripped in two. I will never forget his screams. I was 14 I think.

    Looks like it’s going to be another long night but at least I'll be thinking about you as I watch the turquoise rings swirl and radiate their infinite colors like star-way river streams, wishing you were here with me to see all this beauty.  I was going to have to track this spider back to its den in the morning.  You couldn’t hunt them at night.  That was just asking for a painful death.

    The next morning I woke up from a nightmare. It was of that man getting ripped apart again.  He was a hired hand for my dad.  We needed the help back then to hunt these spiders.  We had set up camp and the fire was big, creating a huge circle of light.  We were all talking and laughing and the man became too comfortable and got reckless.  He strayed too close to the edge of the light.  That’s when I saw it.  A huge spider emerging from the darkness, crawling frantically toward the man. All its legs moving quickly in perfect harmony. You could hear the furious tapping sounds of all its legs hitting the dirt as it sprinted to get close to the man.  It came right to the edge of the light and pulled the man by his ankles and lifted him into to air grabbing his other leg with another one of its many appendages and pulled him apart.  The man screamed in terror for help. There was nothing we could do.  It happened so fast. You could hear the sound of flesh ripping. It sounded like paper being torn apart.  And where his legs came together at the groin, you could see stringy red flesh being pulled apart as his body ripped down the center.  As he screamed in horror, his shoulders separated and his head flopped and bobbed as it stayed connected to his right shoulder.  It was an explosion of blood and wet chunks of meat as red mist sprayed into the night air.  That dream never seems to go away. I can still see his face as he realized his body was ripping apart. His eyes will haunt me forever.

    I wiped the sleep from my eyes. The sun was just beginning to peek over the horizon with streaks of fire yellow and red dancing on its giant arcs like living flame moving like colossal giants made of fire. The rest of the sky was still a blue and pale purple with stars slowly fading into the backdrop of a red and orange day.

    There was barely a sound on the prairie. Barely anything moving except for the giant spider. It was still here. It had waited here the whole night. Staying just beyond the edge of the light. That was unusual. They never did that when I was out here with my dad. Usually as the sunlight began to stretch across the sky the spiders would scurry away back into their dens not wanting to endure the sting of the heat. But this one refused to leave. It seemed to have a tolerance for the heat.

    These spiders had become more and more resistant to the sunlight. Making it more dangerous to be out here.  But I needed the money.  Even if it had been decades since I had been back here. Things change fast in the galaxy.  My life fell apart just as fast. Faster than memory and nostalgia. Those things seem to never change in our minds. Just like my memory of you. No matter what I'm going through, you seem to always be in my thoughts. I hate it sometimes. I really need to think about my situation.  About this damn spider that refused to go back to its den.  I was going to hunt this one.  But I needed it to be asleep and with its guard down.  It was still early and the sun wasn’t high enough in the sky yet so there was still time for this stubborn spider to feel the sting of the light.

     I was going to need to keep my fire going if I was to outlast this thing. It surely wouldn't last long with more heat. It would have to leave. I just needed to get another fire grease ball from my pack so I could make the fire last a little longer. I guess I was going to have to get comfortable again because I wasn't going anywhere until this spider left.  The sky was not a full bright yellow and red yet. The day wasn’t in full swing but this spider was still pacing around the heat of my fire. I had moved the flame near my horse but my horse was starting to get uncomfortable with the heat being so near.  I started to worry that my horse was going to get impatient and panic. It was beginning to neigh and move around anxiously. It was ready to move but I knew we couldn't just yet. That spider could scurry with its many legs, just as fast as my horse could run and would catch us no problem. Even with my horse at full sprint.

     Finally, this giant spider had had enough of the sun and the heat and began to scurry away back toward its den. With all of its legs moving perfectly, one right after another in smooth motions it crawled away like a giant hand crawling across the ground.  I was thinking its den was somewhere beyond the large rocks to the north.  I was going to follow this massive creature and kill it and take its venom.  I was going to bring a large enough torch with me. I gathered some of the tinder I had been burning and used some of my grafting straps and scion glue to piece together a large make-shift torch. I attached it to the bottom of my saddle so I could hold it upright as I rode along.

    The flame was so red it made it hard to see, I could barely see where it ended and the sky began. I climbed atop of my horse and slowly made my way toward the northern rocks. The spider seemed to be staying just far enough ahead that it was no problem for me to follow.

    However, with the dwarf sun and the red flames, the heat was getting too much for the spider and it started to move more quickly. I needed to quicken my pace if I were stay up with it. That would prove to be a mistake. As my horse bounced more vigorously in its gallop I began to lose my grip on my torch and it finally fell and the flames hit at the hinds of my horse causing it to buck wildly. Throwing me off. I hit the pink dirt so hard it knocked the wind out of me. I panicked. Gasping for air as I tried to find my torch. I looked around wildly and it was still attached to my horse who was still bucking around aggressively.  I got up quickly and ran to my horse.  Calming it down.  Rubbing the side of its head and it slowly regained its composure. I looked toward the northern rocks and I didn’t see the spider anymore.  Damn it, I thought.  I lost it.  But it couldn’t have gotten too far.  I would just have to move more quickly toward the rocks and hopefully I would catch up with it.

    I hopped on my horse and started galloping towards the rocks. Scanning the prairie lands for any movement.  But I couldn’t see anything.  Damn, where did this thing go.  I moved my hand above my eyes, shielding them from the light of the sun.  I couldn’t find which direction it went until finally I saw some tracks.  I smiled, there you are, I said, and started my horse in that direction.

    I needed the money, I kept saying.  Hunting spiders was dangerous and hardly anyone did it anymore but I really needed the money. It was my only hope of getting my life together and maybe getting a second chance with Jessica.  I thought of her hair, her smile.  The way she looked when the graphite lights of the skyscrapers poured through our windows.  I could almost feel her again but that’s when the spider emerged from the ground.  It threw open a slab of dirt like a door leading to a basement cellar.  Half its body jumped out and grabbed my horse and as it dragged it back into its dirt cellar, I flew off my horse and hit the ground, dislocating my shoulder.  The pain was sharp and fast.  I couldn’t breathe.  I could only hear the wails of my horse as it was dragged underground.  It was doing something to it and I couldn’t see any of it.  I could only hear the sounds of my horse being preyed upon by a giant spider. 

    I got up and looked around and saw the torch lying on the ground.  I sprinted to get it but not before the giant spider lurched out again from underground and tripped me.  Curling the end of its spiny, leathery leg around my ankle, it started dragging me toward its underground den. I started flaying my arms around trying to grab something. Anything. There was nothing to grab. Then I started punching the spider's leg but it had no effect. I started screaming desperately for help but knew no one would hear me. No one came out into these plains unless you were hunting spiders. And there was no one left anymore. No one did that anymore.  I got reckless. I shouldn't have come out here. This was how it was going to end. I was going to die just like that prairie-hand I saw all those years ago that got ripped apart.

    I closed my eyes. Jessica, I thought, I wish I could see you one more time. I wish we didn't drift apart the way that we did. I wish so many things and now, here in the moment of my death I find myself thinking of only you. I'm so sorry. And just as quickly as the spider pulled him into the air, it tore him apart like paper.  Leaving an explosion of meat and blood crashing and flopping to the ground.  And the spider scurried back into its underground dirt den.  And it was silent on the prairie again.  Only the sounds of this land existed and nothing else.  Only a mist of red lingered in the air, shimmering in the sunlight.  That was all that was left of him. And after some time, all manner of creatures came out to where the pieces of his body lay and each dragged away their own piece of meat.  And there were no sounds of horror anymore.  No screams.  Just the sounds of heat and the prairie feasting.

...

He hadn't lived a perfect life.  He knew he had made mistakes.  Plenty of mistakes actually but did that make him a bad person.  Perhaps.  He wasn't afraid of the consequences of his actions when he was alive though.  They were all just things he could ignore from one day to another and anyone who had a problem with him could go fuck themselves.  That's what he thought.  That's how he thought when he was alive.  When he died he learned that things you choose to lie to yourself about are paid in full long after the mistakes were made.

     The room was silent as he blinked his eyes into awareness.  He had walked through a door that had appeared in front of him.  His eyes darted around the room from one rock gray wall to another.  Panic began to seep in to his being as his eyes finally found the demon standing at the far end of the room.  It was standing underneath a flaming brazier.  There were many hanging from the ceiling.  Each with their own fires burning.  There was also a large flaming pit next to a towering wall that stretched upwards so far it disappeared into darkness.  The fires allowed him to see details of the room.  The demon stared at him with black patient eyes allowing him to study the room and realize the nature of his reality.  That he was in Hell.  There was nothing else this could be.  The same way he knew that this thing that was staring at him with unmoving, pupil-less black eyes was a demon.  He knew it.  He understood that fact without being told. 

     He could see objects hanging on the smooth gray wall beside the demon.  The type of objects that cause pain and suffering.  The kind that you would not want to touch or even know.

"Come close," the demon said. And he did.  He walked from where he was towards where the demon was waiting.  The demon was thin and muscular and naked.  It had thick scars all across its body.  Like it had been lashed many times a long time ago.  Its skin was a gray, lifeless hue.  Its lips were thin.  It had no ears or nose.  When it spoke he felt dread in his soul.  And when it looked at him he felt less important than an insect.  He knew he held no dominion in this room. A deconstruction of his mind had already begun and he could feel himself peeling away.

"What is this place?" he asked hoping to delay the inevitable.  The demon made no reply as it walked toward the wall seemingly deciding which instrument of pain it would grab first.  "Who are you?" he asked and again the demon made no reply.  "What's going to happen?"

Without looking at the man the demon said, "You will be tortured."

"For how long?" he asked and the demon again made no reply.  It kept eyeing all the devices of torture hanging on the wall, slowly moving its leather gray head in very disciplined motions from one side to the other until finally it reached its long slender arm to a frayed whip made of many barbed wires.  

"And now," the demon said as it turned its entire body toward the man, "you will be whipped." Directing its dark glossy demon eyes at the man.  Demon eyes that had seen too much.  Been too far.  Knew too much.  Knew no pleasure. No joy or pity.  Carried no humanity.  There was nothing a mortal man would find in those eyes he would understand. 

     The demon took the frayed wired whip to the flames of the smoking fire pit and heated the tips.  It stared at the wires watching as they began to glow red and the glimmer of orange dead flame reflected in its infinite dark eyes.  There was no emotion. No hint of anything other than its duty and purpose.  There was no getting out of this.  The man knew he was in Hell.

     The demon pulled the wire whip from the flame as every tip glowed a hellish red.  The man pleaded in pathetic cries, "no, please, no, no."

And the demon simply rose his arm and swung down across his chest, tearing through his expensive clothes and ripping flesh from bone.  The man wailed in agony.  And the demon never changed its expression.  It just rose its arm and swung down on the man.  Over and over again.  

"In time," the demon said, "you will remember these moments as being the easiest."

And the man screamed as the demon covered every part of the man's body with thick red shreds.  And overtime, his flesh would grow back and the man would plead again, "Please! no more, please." And the demon just looked at the man and its gaze carried no pity.  No joy.  Just duty and purpose.

     There were exactly two thousand, six hundred and sixty four devices of torture upon the wall.  And in time he would experience each one of them.  Time was fluid here.  There was no beginning or end.  No single moment the same as the next.  Only experience.  And the man would experience every lashing, every flaying and flogging.  Every bit of skin and meat torn away.  He would feel every inch of his being in its purest and rawest form and he would know pain.  But to the man's horror, the demon said, "this is only the beginning."

     He was boiled and beaten.  He was seared and carefully skinned.  He had his flesh melted and his eyes gouged out.  Had his innards splayed and opened.  Bones broken and twisted.  And it all kept growing back as the demon worked through every device on the wall. And finally as the demon cleaned and returned the final device on the wall, through dry and cracked lips, the man gasped, "is it over?"

"No," the demon replied, "now, the true pain begins." And it did.

     All his regrets. All his choices he made.  Every lie and selfish decision.  Every hurt he caused to himself and to others.  Each one was pulled out of him.  Every detail.  Every emotion.  Slowly and purposefully extracted for him to face and the demon stripped  away all the ways he hid from them.  Filled him full of memory.  Stripped away everything down to only truth.  And it was more painful than anything that came before.

"Tell me what you thought as your father lay dying," said the demon.

"I thought I was losing someone important to me."

"No," the demon said without emotion, "you did not." It stared at him with its demon's eyes of infinite black as the man cried.

"I thought, I'm glad you're finally gone.  I never wanted to take care of you. I just wanted your inheritance. Your money."

"Yes," the demon said.  It took apart his life moment by moment.  Lie by lie.  Every choice.  And every time the man would lie or tried to hide the truth, the demon would know and without hesitation would again grab one of the torture devices on the wall and would strip away part of the man that was still trying hide from himself.

"Tell me what you told your mother?" said the demon.

"I told her that she was a horrible mother."

"What did you really mean to say," the demon said as he grabbed another device and began flogging the man with an iron rod.

"I wanted to tell her," he said as he took a thrash across his face, "how I wish she had died when she had got cancer," the man screamed.

"Yes," the demon replied.

"I wanted nothing to do with my parents.  I hated them!!" the man screamed in agony as the demon rose his arm and again swung down across his face breaking teeth and ripping flesh.

"Tell me why you hated them," the demon said.

"I didn't have a reason. I just hated that they had money and I didn't. I wanted it.  I hated how they treated me growing up.  I wanted them to love me like my brother. I hated that they loved everyone else except for me.  I saw their deaths as a way for me to live," the man cried pathetically. 

And the demon cleaned the iron rod as he forced another confession out of him, wiping away blood and flesh and hair.

     They had all the time there ever was in that room.  They would examine his whole life.  It lasted a hundred years or perhaps a thousand.  And the man realized the demon was right.  The physical torture was easier.  

"Tell me what you thought when your wife left you," said the demon in a flat, emotionless tone.

"I thought, now she'll never know that I was fucking her sister. I was glad she was leaving so that I wouldn't have to face the lie."

"Yes," the demon said with an unmoving stare.

"Because  when her sister died," the man continued, "in a car accident, I was relieved. I was sad, yes, but mostly relieved that my lie would never be found out. I didn't care that these people were out of my life. I just found new people.  I didn't care."

     He could barely look up at the demon. He felt so much shame. So much embarrassment even in front of this demon.  He went through every moment like that. It took however long was needed to go through his life. And finally, they reached the end. And once finished the demon said, "Again," and the man pleaded "no, please," and the demon went to the wall and grabbed the skinning knife and began flaying his skin. And the man began again from the beginning.  

     But there was a self-knowledge he had that was not there when they first began. It made everything worse. He hated himself now.  Every word he said he despised. There were no more lies.  No hiding. Nothing except the pain and hatred.  And when he finished the demon said, "Again."

The man cried and screamed. For another hundred or a thousand years passed.  He prayed the demon would just torture him with lashes or boil his skin or break his bones open.  He did not want to do this anymore.

"Again," the demon said and the man started again. And again. And again.

He no longer wept when he spoke.  He was broken.  He went through his life and every layer of his mind peeled back like an onion.  He learned the consequences of his life.  He learned the outcomes of his choices.  Realized the truth of the things he had done.  Things he could no longer ignore. All the damage and hurt he had caused that he had never known was fully realized in him now.  He could no longer hide from it all.  It was more painful than anything that had come before and still it went beyond painful.  He had to learn this.  It was his lesson to realize.  It was the truth he needed to confront.

"Again," the demon said.

He fell into madness and crouched into the corner as he began again to recount every moment of his life.  Re-experiencing every moment of it.  Carrying with every word, infinite shame.  From birth to death.  Every single thing.  Leaving nothing out.  Only the horrible truth remained.  He opened his soul to it.  Accepted it into his heart.  And when he finished with closed eyes, he waited for the voice to say Again but nothing was said.  He opened his eyes and stood up slowly.  He was alone.

     And at the far end of the room, there was a door and he watched with dark unmoving, emotionless eyes as it opened. And a man walked through.  There was terror on the man's face and in his heart.  He could tell.  He knew.  There was arrogance and pride and greed in this man.  The man slowly walked into the room and found the dark, emotionless eyes staring back at him from underneath the flaming brazier and smoking pit.

He watched the man catch his dark unmoving gaze and he understood now.

"Come close," he said to the new arrival.

And the man did. "What is this place?" the man said.

And he made no reply.

He Knew It Had To Be Done

He couldn’t concentrate on the road.  It was usually a relaxing thing for him to do; to drive at night but tonight driving on a dark stretch of road was not the therapy he needed, it only let him think about things he would rather not. But he knew he needed to do this.  He had no choice.  His thoughts were coming fast.  Something about the vague moving darkness that existed outside the cones of yellow light streaming from his headlights allowed his mind to wander rapidly.  All he wanted to see in those tiny spaces of dark ambient thought was her face.  He couldn’t get his mind away from her.  It wasn’t fair he thought.  Why did it have to be this way?  She was gone and nothing would change that.  Lonely thoughts began to fill his head and he started thinking again about the first time they met.

“Hi,” she said with a bright smile.  

He looked up from the concession stand he was working at.  He usually worked the concession at the high school basketball games.  It wasn’t the most glamorous job but at least it was something to do. 
“Hi, what are you looking to get?”  he asked as he took a quick glance at her and her cuteness immediately was overwhelming.  He tried looking somewhere else to keep from staring. He noticed she was with a group of people for the game.
“Can I get umm...a large coke and some popcorn?” she said with a bounce in her step.
“Sure, anything else?” he replied.
“Nope, I think that’s it.”
“Alright,”  he said tapping his hand on the counter as he turned to get her coke and popcorn.  The whole time he was moving behind the concession stand, he was thinking about how really cute she was and was trying to think of something to say that was smooth and flirtatious to her.  He looked over his shoulder a few times to glance at her. Trying to build his courage. She was standing there going through her phone.  She had short brown hair, pale skin and beautiful big brown eyes.  She was fit and had a slim tiny frame of a body.  Her smile was the most radiating thing.  It was large and welcoming, the type of smile you wish you could come home to when you had a bad day.

“Aren’t you in biology with me?” she asked as she put her phone away in her purse.
“Uh, yeah.  Mr. Peters’ class.  I sit like two rows behind you,” he said filling the coke cup with ice.
“Yeah.  I thought you looked familiar.  I don’t think I know your name.”
“Joe,” he said as he placed the coke in front of her. Placing a lid on top and setting down a straw to the side.
“Emily," she replied.
“You’re new here right?”
“Yeah, just moved here about 3 months back. Trying to meet new people," she said smiling her huge smile.
“Hurry up Emily!” someone shouted from behind her.
He leaned and looked over her shoulder and saw the group of people she was with.
She turned and yelled, “shut up Corey or you wont get any popcorn!”
“Seems like you got plenty of friends already,” he said.
“Oh yeah, those are mostly my cousins and their friends.  I have a lot of family here.  One of the reasons my parents decided to move here.”
“That’s nice. Probably makes the move here easier then, huh.”  He said as he grabbed an empty popcorn bag and began scooping and filling it.
“Yeah, for the most part.  I still miss my friends though...you know...and..." she said taking a pause before continuing, "...moving sucks.  I still have most all my things in boxes.  Lazy right,” she said smiling at him.
“Nah, not lazy.  Just organizationally deficient.”  

She let out the tiniest giggle behind her smile as she looked down. 

“And moving to a new school does suck,” he continued.  “I did it a few times with my mom when I was younger and it made it hard for me to make friends.  But I’ve been here now for the past 4 years and I like it.”
“How about the concessions?  Is this fun?”
“Well, not always because its work but I get paid by Mr. Ruiz so that’s nice and I get to see the games.  Buuutttt...we suck though.”
She giggled again while flashing that bright beautiful smile that he was beginning to become entranced by seeing.  He just wanted to keep making her smile.  This was the first time he had ever talked to her and he didn't want to stop.
“Well, I’m not much into sports," she said, "but I think I can get into coming to the games.  Its pretty fun doing the cheers in the stands and stuff. And hey, I get to meet new people like you.”
“Yeah it is fun,” he replied as he continued to scoop popcorn into the bag.
“Good company and the best concession stands right,” she said in a joking kind of way.
He smirked and she looked at him with a confused smile and asked, “What, is that not the case? You don't think this is the best concession stand.”
“Maybe good concessions but definitely not good food.  I mean look at these hot dogs. Would you eat that?”
She laughed, “ok, maybe you’re right.  They do look like the skin of the real housewives of Hollywood  or something,” he laughed at the image of old scabby tanned women with leathery cracked skin.
“But at least you got raisinets,” she said.
“That we do,”  he replied as he placed the bag of popcorn down.
“So, its all gonna be $8.50.”
“Oh shoot, I forgot my money.  I guess I’m not paying,” she said playfully.
“Are you just gonna walk off with it now.”
“Maybe I am.  Aren’t my good looks at least enough to convince you to let me have the coke.”
“Heck no,” he said.
She gasped in fake disgust, “are you saying I’m ugly?”
“Nah.  I would never say that.  For your good looks I would let you have the coke, the popcorn and a day old wiener...at least.”
She started laughing showing off that gorgeous smile of hers.
“Well, don’t worry.  I won’t make you give me these and you can keep your day old wiener.  My dad gave me some money to buy snacks.  So it's all good,” she reached into her pocket and handed him a ten.  “Oh and don’t tell my dad but you can keep the change.”
He smiled and right before she turned to leave he stopped her for a moment and said, 

“Hey Emily…”
“Yea,” she replied.
“Don’t tell Mr. Ruiz then,” and he handed her a box of raisinets.  She gave him that big smile that he liked so much by now.

A sharp coldness on his cheek refocused him on the road.  He didn’t notice his eyes were tearing up until one streaked down his cheek.  The road seemed to last forever.  He had a 2 hour drive in front of him still.  His mind was a mess but focusing on those few sweet memories helped him concentrate. The road had been a long depressing straight line but he knew he was coming up to a stretch of twist and turns with the road winding up the mountain side.  He always got nervous driving through the mountains.  He found comfort in the memories he had with her even though it brought with it so much pain.  He wouldn’t forget her.  He loved her.  He knew that much.  Even if she rejected him.

They were at the carnival with friends and the two of them went on the Ferris wheel alone.  He saw this as the perfect opportunity to ask her something he’d been meaning to ask for a few weeks now.
“Emily, can I ask you something?” he said in a nervous tone and before she could answer he asked, “do you like me?”  He had finally built up enough courage to ask even if it had taken weeks of constant will.  She looked at him with endearing eyes and replied, “Yea I like you Joe but not in the way I think you mean.  Maybe one day but right now I’m not looking for a boyfriend.”

He felt the sting of rejection crawl up his spine.  At that moment he wished he could jump out of the moving Ferris wheel and just disappear.  

“Why not?” he asked.
“I dunno,” she said looking down fumbling with her nails.  “I guess I'm just not ready to make that kind of commitment to anyone...you know.”
He understood.  He had to. He didn’t blame her for not wanting to.  He took a risk and came out on the short side of it.  If anything he came out of that rejection with more of a protective heart for her.

The blinding flash of an oncoming car took him out of his trance-like state of thoughts and memories.  He had loved her, he knew that much but she had lied to him.  She did commit to a boyfriend and his name was Todd.  He was the reason why she was gone now, why she was dead.  But he would make sure he would do what needed to be done.  He would make Todd pay.  He didn’t like thinking about fucking Todd, it just filled him with anger and hatred.  He preferred to think about her beautiful face but it was painful.  He missed her so much.  He reached into the back for a beer and accidentally brushed against a hand.  He jerked away forgetting it was there and grabbed the beer.  He cracked it open and took a swig.  After taking a gulp of lukewarm beer he looked into the backseat to a passed out man he had tied and gagged.  

“We’re almost there Todd,” he said. The anticipation building under his skin.  He was full of purpose and will.  There was a part of him that didn’t want to do this but there was something else in his head pushing him.  His devotion for her made him unwilling to abandon his endeavor.  This was going to happen.

He finally arrived at the turnoff. It was an old dirt road that continued into the woods of the mountain.  The road was only wide enough to fit one car.  At the end of it lay an old wooden cabin.  He pulled up and turned the car off leaving the lights shining on the front door. He got out of the car and opened the rear door and began dragging Todd into the cabin.  He pulled him by the ankles banging his body on the steps as he walked up to the front door.  Todd began to wake up.  He had a bloody welt on the back of his head from where Joe had hit him.  Joe took off the gag.  Groggy and hazy he began mumbling, “yerrr, heyyy, wwwhattss gooing on, hey!  Help!  What is this!  What’s happening?!”
“You’re facing your reckoning Todd.”
“What are you talking about?  Who are you?” he asked looking up at Joe.  “Is that you Joe?  Let me go, what are you doing?”
“It’s too late Todd, nothing can stop this.”
“Stop what?! What’s happening?” he began to writhe around like a worm with his bindings, fighting for any ounce of freedom but he was tied too securely.
Joe opened the front door to the cabin and dragged Todd across the floor into the middle of an empty living room.  “This is my uncle’s old cabin.  No one comes up here anymore, so it’ll be just us two and the creatures of the woods."
Todd’s face began to curl in fear as the gravity of the horrific situation began to set in.  This was real and Joe had a terrifying determined will permeating from his eyes.  It sent desperate chills of fear throughout Todd’s body.
“Why am I here Joe?”
“Because of Emily!!” he shouted as he opened a closet door and pulled out an old axe and a cleaver.  He began inspecting the cleaver with surgeon like care.  “My uncle, back when he still used this place, used to hunt for all his food.  You know, like how the pioneers did.  And you needed big burly knives like this one to chop up some of those thicker pieces of meat.  He left a few knives behind.  Good thing, huh," he said smiling.  "But there were times when he was chopping up meat that he would tell me stories of these creatures that lived here in the woods.  Ancient type of creatures that have lived here longer than humans. He said they existed somewhere on the veil of this dimension and the next one.  So we can't always see them.  But something about these woods, this place, this area, there's a doorway where they come and go.  He told me that he would talk to them.  Not in any kind of language but kind of like in thoughts and images," he said as he walked to the window looking out as if looking for something.  "He told me to never talk to them if I ever encountered them. But I did talk to them Todd.  And they showed me things.  These creatures are mystical.  Other worldly.  Beyond right and wrong.  They know things and we have to listen. That's why we are here, right now Todd.  Do you understand." 
“Joe, I don’t know what you’re planning to do but put the knife away, okay buddy, put it away.”
“And my uncle,” he said completely ignoring Todd, “also taught me how to cut up our game.  How to give those big swings to split the meat in one swipe,” he continued as he acted out the downward motion with the cleaver. "I would watch as he cut the meat.  That's when he would tell me these stories Todd.  Of these creatures.  He told me once that he caught my Aunt Barbara cheating on him.  Can you believe that Todd?  I thought she was a good woman," he said as he wiped sweat from his brow still looking out the window.  "He said he found out because he saw her phone messages.  And so devastated, he came out here to the cabin.  And that's when he saw them. The creatures.  They talked to him.  Showed him things.  Showed him what he needed to do. He didn't tell her for what reason, he just brought her out here..."

“Joe goddamnit!  Listen to me!  You don’t have to do this.”
“Yes I do!”  he growled, “you’re the reason Emily is dead.  You! No one else.  You Todd! YOU!!”
“What the fuck Joe?!!” Todd said looking up at him in utter confusion, “Emily’s not dead Joe! She’s alive!  What are you talking about?!!”
“She’s dead and you’re gonna pay Todd.”
“She’s not DEAD Joe!” he said in horrific desperation.
“Shut up Todd!”
“Joe, listen to me.  Emily is alive.  She just went away for the weekend but she’ll be back. I promise you she’s still alive.”
“Aren’t you curious to why she hasn’t called you or texted or anything Todd? No probably not because you aren't thoughtful like that.  You don't care about her,” Joe said as he walked across the room.
“Probably forgot to or her phone is dead, bad reception or any number of other reasons Joe.”
“I wondered Todd,” he said as he picked up the axe, “I wondered why she stopped talking to me.  I was her best friend and maybe even one day I could have been her boyfriend but then I found out why she stopped.  It was because of you Todd.  You took her away from me and I was cast aside.  And now you’re gonna pay.  She died because of you.  She didn't have to. I didn’t want to do it but when I became nothing in her life I had nothing left to lose. She was my everything.  The creatures showed me what I needed to do.  They showed me things.  Convinced me of things. I knew then what I had to do,” he said laying the axe onto his shoulder.
“Joe, oh my god! You didn’t…”
“You’re the reason her life ended.  If she had never met you she would still be here.”
“Joe please…don’t…Don’t please,” desperately letting out his last plea as he began crying uncontrollable tears in between every word he was saying.
Joe went into the empty kitchen and began dragging a black garbage bag across the floor. “Look Todd,” he said as he opened the bag revealing her face surrounded by her body parts.  Her feet crudely chopped at the ankle lay by her cheeks and her hands lay splayed across her forehead unnaturally.  Emily’s brown eyes were still open, looking straight ahead at Todd.
“Oh My God!  No! Why Joe! Why!!”
“Because I loved her you goddamn fool!” he yelled as he approached Todd with the axe in hand.  “See this axe," he said calming himself down.  "I did most of the work with this,” he said reopening the front door of the cabin.  “The creatures love the smell of bloody flesh. They crave it.  They'll be here soon.  They've been smelling her all day Todd.”
“Don’t kill me Joe…please don’t,” he said in a mess of drooling words.
“Oh don’t worry Todd,” he replied placing the gag back into Todd’s mouth.  “I’m not gonna kill you,” he said as he pulled out a revolver from his back pocket.  “I’m letting you live with this,” he said as he put the gun to his own temple, "the creatures are going to finish you for me," and pulled the trigger.

The Old Man

    He couldn't understand why this was happening but all his instincts told him to run.  Who were those men? Why were they after him? He didn't have any answers for the questions running through his mind.  He couldn't think about that right now.  He found himself in a situation running frantically through alleyways in the pitch of night trying to escape from three men that were chasing him.

     When they had come up to him on the sidewalk, he was standing under a street lamp waiting at the bus stop. He was waiting for the bus to take downtown to get back to the hospital where his wife and daughter were. The darkness outside the light didn't let him see much so when they appeared wearing dark suits he never even saw them approaching.  

   The men looked odd.  They had weird plastic like skin and they were wearing dark sunglasses even though it was night out.  Even their hair seemed fake.  They didn't ask any questions.  They just came up to him and said "come with us, do not resist Dorian" and forcefully grabbed and pulled his arm. "He wants to see you," they said.  He didn't know what they were talking about.

"Umm, I think you have me confused with someone else," Dorian replied yanking his arm away.

"Do not resist," they replied with a sinister tone as they reached again for his arm.  Grabbing it, he began to struggle to get free.  He didn't hesitate this time.  Something told him to run and so he did.  He turned and sprinted down the sidewalk and quickly turned into an alleyway.  They pursued.  They were right behind him running at full sprint.  He couldn't think of why they were chasing him all he knew was that he just needed to get away from them.  He kept running and turning corner after corner through dark alleyways and the small spaces between buildings.  

     He shouted, "Help! Someone! Anyone!" There was no one around.  It was like the dark night had swallowed every other person.  He just kept running as he could still hear their forceful steps behind him.  He ran like he was trying to find his way through a maze.  

     He stopped gasping for breath.  He took a moment to scan his surroundings but he now realized he didn't know where he was.  He had gotten himself lost in some part of the city.  A cold dread ran up his spine and a terrifying thought entered his mind.  Did they lead him here?  Did they guide him exactly where they wanted him? He couldn't be sure.  He just knew he had to keep moving.  He could still hear their steps echoing off the buildings as they kept searching for him.  

     The night had an eerie chill in the air and a faint mist seemed to be moving across the ground.  He needed to find another bus stop and get the hell out of there.  He needed to get back to his wife and daughter.  

      He kept moving until he saw it.  He turned a corner and there it was, some kind of half circle coming out of the ground and in it, an old man sitting on a bench in broad daylight in stark contrast to the dark night that existed outside of this half circle.  Was it some kind of portal? What was this thing? Who was this man? He didn't understand what was going on until a cold realization washed over him.  He recognized this old man.  A foreboding chill crawled through his entire body.  He remembered him.  He met him many years ago on that same bench he was sitting in on the other side of this half circle.  How could this be? 

...

   Years before Dorian found himself running away from sinister men chasing him, he lived in a different part of the city.  An older part of the city.  And this old man used to sit across the street on the bench from his apartment window but never seemed to talk to anyone.  Dorian saw him everyday.  He just sat in peace and watched.  He was striking in his appearance.  He looked to be in his late sixties with a chiseled jaw and short grey stubble.  Streaks of grey running through his jet black hair.  He had smokey grey and green eyes with deep wrinkles.  He wore very nice clothes that could have been plucked right out of the 1930s.  A light brown blazer with really nice slacks.  

   One day Dorian walked by his bench and the old man spoke to him.

"Gettin' cold out, huh," the old man said turning his head slightly toward him.  Dorian looked around making sure he was speaking to him.  This was the first time he ever heard him speak to anyone.

"Yeah, a bit chilly today," he replied.

"Yes.  Lots of grey.  Your name is Dorian, right?" the old man asked placing his hands into his coat pockets.

"Yeah it is.  How did you know that?" 

"Oh, I know a lot things Dorian.  You know, the orange of Autumn is almost here.  It's so beautiful.  I can see it in the trees.  These sidewalks..." he said gesturing to the ground, "will soon be filled with dying orange leaves that will dry and become brittle brown ones.  But such is life, right."

Dorian nodded his head in agreement still curious how this man knew his name.
"Do you know my mom?" he asked.

"Have a seat Dorian.  Enjoy the blissful ignorance of time.  You're still young. How old are you? Thirty one?"

Again Dorian nodded his head.  Something about the way the old man talked made Dorian unsettled but had him very intrigued.  There was some kind of mysticism in the way he spoke.  It almost had a trance like effect.

"I thought so," he said.  "You young kids will miss the seasons changing when they're gone.  All this..." he said again gesturing around him, "the trees, the grass, the cold air, all of it, will die one day and everything will be an inescapable grey."
"You mean like global warming and all that?" Dorian asked.

"No, no, I mean like the world will eventually die and all that will be left will be just a grey floating rock," he said letting out a small guttural chuckle. "It won't be gradual either.  Death sometimes is as sudden as a heart attack or a bullet to the head," he said lifting his chin up toward the grey sky and inhaling a deep breath of cold air before continuing. "You know how that looks, with your head splayed open and your brains spread out like a butterfly's wings.  And then you're left with nothing more than a fast rotting carcass and shit in your pants.  Nothing gradual or pretty about that, wouldn't you agree Dorian."

Confused, Dorian replied, "Well, I think there's some time left before that happens.  I don't think the Earth is on the verge of turning into a complete rock just yet."
"You would think," the old man replied looking up into the trees.  "The trees seem to be giving up these days.  Nothing much one can do when something gives up.  But humans are resilient," he said folding his leg over the other.  "You can be left with a floating rock and you'll just find a way to live on.  That's what I like about you, you'll give away your morals, your humanity, you'll strip away whatever made you human in the first place just so you can survive.  Until, eventually, you give away too much and become, well, nothing in the end.  Just to slowly dwindle away into another relic of the past," he said as he pulled a red oak smoking pipe from his coat pockets.  He slammed it against the side of the bench a few times emptying it out and placing fresh tobacco inside it.  He placed the end in his mouth and before lighting it he said, "I wonder sometimes if things can change," he then lit the match and sucked and puffed and sucked and puffed until he knew the tobacco was burning well.  "But then I realize," he said as he rested his pipe in his lap as silky haze snaked thin lines of smoke into the air, "it has all been done before, and right now is nothing more than someone's memory somewhere."

Dorian finally sat down next to him.  "What do you mean?" he asked somehow feeling completely captivated by his presence.  He couldn't quite grasp what it was about him but his words felt like they contained some kind of power.

"Oh, well..." he said pausing for a moment and rubbing the temples of his head with his thumb and index finger, "...my mind has seen many lifetimes.  Probably more than should be allowed," he said letting out another small guttural chuckle.  "Sometimes it can be boring to watch things play out when you already know the ending.  Whatever that is anyway.  The ending.  I'm just enjoying the changing of the seasons," he said closing his eyes and taking a deep breath of the Autumn air.  There was a coldness that carried the dirt smell of brittle orange leaves and stale yellow grass.  One could definitely smell Autumn coming.  "I see all the grey that is slowly showing itself and it just reminds me of the things you are willing to give up," he said taking another long puff on his pipe.  "You know, time, how it works; it is all happening at the same time.  Like pages in a book.  Its all there, all on top of each other with each page having its own part of the story.  Just waiting for its small slice of time."  He said before stopping a moment to let the smoke snake out of his mouth and nostrils.  "You can go through page by page and make sense of it but if you wanted, you could always skip to the end and spoil it for yourself.  I, myself, like to skip to the end sometimes and then come back to the beginning with that knowledge and maybe change something in the story." He stopped and looked at Dorian with his piercing grey and green eyes.  "But time is not quite like a book is it, Dorian" he said searching for something, "because it doesn't always have to be the same, right," he said as he pulled a small picture from his pocket.  His eyes staring for a moment at the picture before beginning again, "it's something I like to think anyway.  That's why I am here Dorian.  To offer to change something for you."

"Who are you?" Dorian asked.

"Oh, I'm just a friend...for now," the old man replied.  Dorian didn't like the way he said that.  Felt almost like a threat.

"What do you want?" 

"Are you enjoying the seasons? Enjoying your life Dorian? Autumn is my favorite time of year.  I love the smell, I love the way things die, its beauty," he said looking at Dorian as he silently sucked on his pipe.  "You don't have to think about anything right now Dorian.  Just live your life.  Enjoy it.  Enjoy it so much to the point that you are not willing to give it up.  Take it all in.  Go see your wife and daughter.  That's when I will see you again.  Goodbye Dorian," he said letting out one final small guttural chuckle before getting up and walking away.

...

That was six years ago.  And now, somehow here he was again, on the other side of some kind of portal sitting on the same bench.  

"Come over here Dorian.  I want to talk to you," the old man said as he pulled out that same red oak pipe again.

"Who are you?! What do you want?!" he said frantically.

"Just come over here.  Have a seat," he said with a sinister tone.  "And I am not asking."

Dorian walked toward the portal and stopped just before going through. He felt almost like a pull and he stepped through.  Something compelling him to walk towards the old man.  

"Let's have a talk Dorian," the old man said as he lit his pipe.

"Who are you?" he asked again.

"I think I told you I was a friend the first time.  Do you remember?"

Dorian did remember.  He could remember it all like it just happened. All the memories from that moment came flooding back to him.  What was happening?  He didn't know but he was no friend.  He felt that much.

"How is life treating you these days? Still enjoying it?" the old man asked with a sly grin.

"What the hell do you want? Why are you here?"

The old man looked at him silently with his piercing eyes before replying, "You know, death is a curious thing.  As natural to life as being born or even breathing.  But just beneath the veil, after you close your eyes for the last time and pass that last second of life, you don't see heaven or hell.  You see nothing but yourself and everything you have ever known in one blinding flash.  And then nothing.  You get to see one last glimpse of your life before leaving.  To remind you of all the things you loved, lost, enjoyed, things that made you happy.  And you know who gives you that last reminder? It's not God...it's the Devil," he said before stopping a moment to take a puff from his pipe.  "You see," he said licking his lips, "God doesn't really take part in earthly affairs.   As a matter of fact, he's left this place.  Left you.  You're all alone and I'm all that you got.  God doesn't dabble, you know.  The Devil however..." he said letting out a guttural chuckle while holding his pipe with his yellow teeth, "well, the Devil loves to dabble.  I'm here to offer you something."
Dorian interrupted him, "What? Like to sell my soul or some shit like that? Are you saying you're the Devil? Am I supposed to be terrified?" he said defiantly but somewhere inside himself his strength seemed to be faltering. 

The old man let out a full growl like laugh.  He grabbed his pipe from his mouth and said, "How's your wife?  Maria, is it? And your daughter? Teresa? Oh that's right, you were headed to the hospital to see them."

"What did you say?" Dorian said as an overwhelming fear pierced his soul.

"What does your daughter have? A rare form of cancer? Correct? And your wife is waiting at her bed side.  You were supposed to meet them but you had to take the bus.  Because you can't even afford to have a car.  You can't even afford to give your wife nice things.  That's sad Dorian.  You can't even afford to give your daughter the treatment she needs."

"Shut the fuck up!"

"Oh Dorian.  No need to get upset.  Like I said before, I'm here to make you an offer.  You may not be able to afford much with earthly currency but you do have a currency I want.  And it allows you to afford anything."

"Shut up I said!"

"Haha," the old man laughed as his brow furrowed,  "you don't really want me to stop Dorian.  I already know how this is going to end.  That's why I visited you all those years ago.  Right here in this very spot.  As a matter of fact, we are in the same moment.  You just left in that direction and I came back to sit down. To meet you again.  And now here we are, talking again."

"What do you want?" Dorian asked.

"You already know what I want.  The real question is what do you want?" he said pulling the skin of his teeth back and giving a very sinister smile. "Have you enjoyed your life? Is it enough to not want to give it up? How old is Teresa? 8 years old? Such a short time on this earth.  How about your bank account? Is it in the negatives? Your wife? Is she happy? Here, I know a little secret.  She's starting to think about what life would be like with your best friend."

"Shut up!!!" Dorian said as tears began to stream from his eyes. He didn't understand what was happening but he could feel parts of himself being stripped away.  

"I've seen how it all plays out Dorian.  I've seen what happens if you don't take my offer.  I've also seen what happens if you do.  I've seen every version of this.  I'm just an intersection.  Offering choices.  Which road to take.  There are no wrong choices Dorian.  Only ones that are better than others.  If you refuse my offer, your child will die. Your wife will leave you.  You will pull away from everyone including your best friend.  And she will too heartbroken to want to be with you.  She will find the arms of another man.  She will find your best friend.  You will have to live with those burdens.  Those thoughts.  But you can't.  You will kill yourself.  You will blow your fucking brains out," he said as he pushed Dorian's forehead with his finger. "And if you kill yourself, you will just end up in front of me again with nothing to bargain with.  I don't want that for you.  It's sad.  I've seen it.  It's pathetic.  So take my offer.  Live the life you want.  Be happy."

Dorian now had slurry of tears running down his face.  Every part of his being feeling every hurt.  Every pain.  Feeling the truth of it all.  Thinking about his daughter as she lay there slowly dying.  He fell to his knees as the swelling pressure of grief pushed out the veins in his neck.  There was no strength left.  Slobbering and crying, he looked up at the old man from the ground and asked, "What do I have to do?"
To which the old man smiled his sinister grin and replied, "Nothing."

In a blinding flash, Dorian woke up in the hospital next to his daughter's bed.  His wife on the other side asleep.  He had no memory of what happened.  No memory of the old man.  No memory of the conversations they had.  He woke up and the doctor came into the room asking to talk to him.  They both walked out into the hallway.  The doctor told him "Dorian, I have good news.  I think we beat it.  The cancer is gone.  I don't want to jump to any conclusions but I think the treatment worked."
Dorian broke down and cried and smiled, "thank you doctor! Thank you so much!" He said hugging the doctor as pure joy overtook his entire being with no memory of the old man.  No memory of their conversation. No memory of what he gave up.

They Found Me

Its all getting worse.  Time doesn't feel like time and my fear has never gone away.  I have never associated the holiday season with strange occurrences let alone anything paranormal in my family but this last year marked the first occasion.  I was on the phone like I am every year constantly talking with family making plans for Thanksgiving and Christmas.  It was while on the phone with my mom that began the whole thing.

It had just started snowing.  A fresh blanket of snow was covering all the roads and sidewalks.  I was talking with her one night about Thanksgiving and she stopped me mid-sentence asking "what was that?" in a concerned way.  It was unsettling to hear because you don't ever want to hear your mom concerned or even slightly worried.  

"What was what?" I replied.

"That noise, what was that?" she said in her mexican accent.  It always made things sound more superstitious than they should be.

"What noise? I didn't hear anything."

"You didn't hear that?  It was ugly.  You weren't making that sound?" she asked more worried than concerned this time.

"No mom.  I was talking and then you stopped me.  I didn't hear anything.  What did you hear?" my curiosity had been piqued but I was starting to get concerned because she did sound a little rattled.

"You better not be trying to scare me mijo," she always called me that.  Every mexican household called their kids 'mijo' or 'mija' especially when they wanted to remind you that they're mom and you need to be truthful with her right now.  I'm 28 but she can still flex her motherly muscle by just calling me 'mijo.'  

"I know how you are," she continued, "you're always trying to scare me."

"No mom, I swear.  What did you hear?"

"It was ugly," she said letting out a small sigh.  "At first it was just you talking normal and then your voice got stuck on a word and you just dragged out the sound.  Tomorrrrrrrrrr," she mimicked.  "Like that, and then it got real low almost like a growl."

"Hmm, weird," I replied trying to think of a reason why that would happen.

"Then it got all digital," she continued, "and it sounded like screams."

"Screams? Come on mom. You start getting scared and then make it worse by making things up in your head.  I don't think you heard screams.  Probably something weird but I doubt screams."

"You didn't hear it.  It sounded like screams mijo except that they were all digitized or whatever you call it."

"I bet it was the phone malfunctioning."

"I hope so because it was ugly.  I hope I don't...."

She stopped mid-sentence and it got quiet on her end.  Just muted silence.  No breathing or even the soft sound of static.  Just nothing.  I thought for a moment the call had been dropped. I kept saying hello, hello, can you hear me, but no response.  Finally after about 15 or 20 seconds she came back on.

"Oh my god mijo, what was that? That was horrible," she said with shivers in her voice.  

"What? What did you hear? I didn't hear anything." I said getting even more curious and slightly worried now.  More for my mom because I knew how she can scare herself sometimes.

"It was like last time again," she said, "only it was screams mijo.  Screams.  I swear it on my grave."  I didn't like hearing my mom swear things on her grave but she does it from time to time like every other mexican.  I just didn't like it when my mom did it but when she did it, she meant it.
"It was like digital screams and crying," she continued, "I could hear crying mijo.  Like pain and sorrow.  Low long screams of pain.  I could hear them mijo.  Aye no."

"Mom, listen, it was probably the cell phone getting really weird reception in its antenna.  Probably causing all sorts of weird sounds," I was trying my best to give her an explanation to calm her down.  I had no idea what she had heard and she's not one to get all worked up for nothing.  She definitely heard something that scared her but I just couldn't really think what it could it have been.

"No mijo," she said a little frightened now, "it was definitely screaming and crying like through a computer or digital or whatever.  I don't want to hear that again."

"Are you sure it was that? I mean, okay, weird noises but screaming and crying?" she stopped me again.

"Okay, I can hear weird static.  Aye no.  I can't.  Here talk to your sister," she gave the phone away.

"Hello?" my sister said.

"Hey."

"Brother!" she always called me brother, never by my name.  "What's mom freaking out about?" she asked.

"I'm not sure, she says she hears screaming and crying in the phone but I don't hear anything."

"I don't hear anything right now."

"No, it comes and goes.  Like in the middle of us talking.  Let me know if you hear anything okay."

"Okay brother.  Are you coming down for Thanksgiving?  Mom's gonna make turkey enchiladas and pie."

"Yeah, I'm gonna try and make it.  Not sure if I'll be there the day before or the day of."

She didn't reply.  Just silence.  That same muted silence from before.  I couldn't hear anything from their end.  Something again had intercepted the call.  That noise most likely.  I waited saying hello over and over again until finally she came back on.

"Whoa, I heard it brother.  I heard it," she said. "I heard it.  It does sound like screaming.  Wow, I don't blame mom for freaking out, that was crazy."

"What does it sound like?" curiosity started taking over my senses.

"Its like all digitized and scrambled but you can definitely hear screaming and some crying.  That was scary brother."

"Hmm, that's what mom said that it was digitized sounding.  Dang, I wish I could hear it."

"Yeah, its scary like out those scary movvvvvvvvvvvvv"

Her voice just dragged on getting lower and lower.  I got surprised by it at first.  Then like my mom had said it became a low growl turning into digitized screaming bent and twisted.  There was something else in the background too, like meat being dropped onto the floor making that slapping sound.  I could faintly hear the crying they were talking about.  Then finally silence.

"Hello? You still there? I heard it."  Nothing, no one replied.  Just silence.  But a different kind of silence.  I could hear the soft static from the other end and a soft breathing.

"Hello?" I said again, "Stop it guys, you ain't gonna scare me."

Then a whisper rolled out, "Hello," it said in a raspy low voice.  Not one I recognized.

"Hello?" I said confused, "who is this?"

"Shhh, they can't hear us right now but you need to keep it down."

"Why? Who is this? Mike? Are you fucking with me?" An eerie chill twitched across the back of my neck.  Something was wrong here.  I wasn't sure who I was talking to.  That worried feeling from earlier began to creep up again.  Slow fear started to grow in the pit of my stomach.

"I don't know Mike but you need to keep it down or they'll find you.  Shhhh."

"Find me? Who? What are you talking about?"

"The demons.  At least I think that's what they are.  Shhh, shhh, they can't hear right now but you need to keep it down," his voice was twitchy and nervous.  I couldn't tell if someone was trying to play a joke on me.  I wanted to hang up but curiosity kept me from disconnecting.

"I don't believe in demons.  Who is this already? It isn't funny, its kinda lame actually."

"I can't remember.  I don't think I have one anymore.  A name.  Yes, yes, its gone now.  No name.  Shh, shh, or they'll find you."

"If I have to keep quiet then why did you call?"

"I didn't, I didn't call, you called, yeah, you called me.  You found me."
"No buddy, you called me.  I was on the phone before you interrupted."

"Interrupted? Interrupted?  Yes, Yes, I was here but they can't hear now.  Something interrupted them.  That's why they can't hear us right now.  They're lookin' though.  Shhhh."

"What are you talking about?"

"They'll find you.  They will. They're already outside."

"Oh yeah, I don't see anyone bud.  You're mistaken.  I'm hanging up, this is stupid."

"Look out your window."
Nervousness was the first thing that washed over me but I couldn't help myself.  I had to look.  It had been snowing that night with fresh snow covering the ground everywhere.  I live on the second floor of my apartment complex so I can see down to the street.  And there I could see what he was talking about.  Terrible horror filled my eyes.  That fear that had been growing in the pit of my stomach from earlier pulsated out to every inch of my body. 

"You see that, they probably already found you," he said in a mocking kind of tone.

Footprints in the snow were forming with no one to form them.  They were just appearing from nothing. I couldn't believe my eyes.  My heart sank as I kept seeing them appear closer and closer to the building I lived in.  Horror filled me when I noticed they stopped right below my window.  I couldn't help but think it was watching me at that moment.  Whatever it was.  

"What is this?" I said shivering with nervous fear.  "Some kind of trick?"

"No trick.  They can't hear right now but you need to keep it down.  They're out looking.  Sniffing.  Tasting the air.  They'll find you.  They're so close now."

"Who are you?"

"I'm no one.  Not anymore.  I only exist now to keep my pain.  Shhhh."
"Just tell me what's happening.  Who are you?  Is this real?  Hello?  Tell me please!"
"Tell you what brother?"  my sister was back on the phone.  Whoever was talking to me was gone now.  I couldn't stop myself from filling with fear.  I looked out the window again and the footsteps were still there but no new ones had appeared.
"Did you hear anyone on the phone Bri?" I asked.
"Like who?"
"A guy.  Talking real low or anything?"
"Did you hear the screams too brother?  I didn't hear no guy talking.  Only the crazy sounds mom heard.  Did you hear something else?"
"No.  Nevermind.  Don't worry about it.  I'll call you guys later."

I stayed at the window for hours after staring intently on the ground looking for any new footprints to appear.  I couldn't quite come to terms if what I saw and experienced was real.  But now every time I'm on the phone I can hear quiet oscillating static in the background.  Very rhythmic like breathing.  My fear has never left.  The things I see keep getting worse.  Its not real I keep saying but that doesn't help.  I just hope I can stop seeing the faces in the darkness.  I can see them sometimes in the corner of my room.  Bodiless faces staring from the corner of my room in complete darkness.  I can't control my mind and its getting harder and harder to remember my name.  I can't believe its real but every night the faces keep whispering to me that they found me.