The Watchmen Part IV – A Horror Novella

I stand outside for a moment and watch as the cars pass by. Everything moves so much slower here than it does in Dallas. No one seems to be in a rush, or cutting each other off. It really is beautiful and even from here I can make out the mountains in the distance. I will be going back to my place tomorrow. I still have to figure out what I will say to my parents─ what I can possibly say to anyone. Devon’s smile flashes in my mind. I find myself wondering if he will smile at me like that again after my live stream. I think given time, I would have liked to get to know him better. I’m not sure in what way, but I know that I enjoy his company. I certainly don’t want him to die the way everyone did in my visions. No one deserves that. I trudge into my room, set my keycard on the nightstand, and then drop my bag on the floor. Whether I want to or not, I am going to the funeral tomorrow. Not just to show my support to the company, but to talk with a Devon. Maybe Zedd spoke to someone before he passed away or he had confided in someone from our department. I’m not sure of the dynamic between him and his team, but I know that he and Devon seemed comfortable talking to one another. I can worry about that tomorrow. 

I pick up my phone and check my messages. Mom has sent me a link to a pie recipe she found and asks if I would like her to make it this year. Leave it to mom to ask something like that a solid three weeks before Thanksgiving. She has always been that way, about as anxious as they come to getting everything in order. Last year she had managed to cook a full traditional Thanksgiving meal and a full vegan one for her sister. Aunt Marie is obsessed over a few things─ her fine wrinkles, the little bit of weight around her tummy, and the horrible meat industry and how they all lobby together to get the public to buy into meat and animal products. I will get a link to a documentary at least a few times a year. Everyone has an agenda she would say. Though, admittedly she probably isn’t wrong about the lobbying. I’m sure it happens in just about every industry. I admire her for it none-the-less, I certainly can’t do it. I tried being a vegetarian for a while and promptly lost my shit. Even my mom had broken her no cursing rule and told me to stop being such a bitch. I still laugh at that from time to time. My mom, miss prim and proper cursing me out and shoving bacon in my face. I guess we all have our limits and I apparently am a real asshole when I don’t eat meat. I open up my work emails and skim through. There are a few messages from corporate about Zedd and a personal email from Devon. It is titled ‘I’m sorry for all of this.’ I immediately open it. 

Hey Kate,

I just wanted to say again that I am so sorry your first week happened this way. Zedd was a good friend of mine and to say that I am in total shock is a bit of an understatement. I hope that this hasn’t changed your mind about working for us in any way. I hope to have you on our team for quite some time. I’ll see you in the office tomorrow, we’re all going to work half a day and then attend the service. You are more than welcome to join us or head home. You won’t be judged either way. 

Take care, 

Devon  

I reread it and then hit reply. 

Devon,

I want you to know that I plan on staying with the company for a long time. In no way is this anyone’s fault and I would never hold you or the company accountable for someone else’s actions. I’m sure that Zedd had a reason for all of this even if we couldn’t understand them. I lost a good friend of mine this way in high school. Just focus on the good times and the time you shared together. I’ll see you tomorrow at the office. 

Yours,

Kate

I am surprised to find a bit of wetness gathering in my eyes. This stirs memories of my friend James. It would have been eight years ago now. In some ways, he reminds me of Zedd─ quick witted, shy, but very vocal when he was passionate about something. Why is it that some of the best people in the world take their own life? This thought seems to depress me more over the years. I remember taking several psychology courses talking about how some of the most brilliant minds struggled daily with depression. I can believe it. Seeing the world as it really is has to have its downfalls. 

I sigh heavily on the bed and then shove my feet into the shoes on the floor. I just want to be done with all of this. It’s killing me knowing that there is nothing that I can do. I’m done with it all, especially feelings. I have a few hours before I head back to Dallas. We are expected to be in tomorrow morning, so I will have to get back to my place in time to shower and dress. I am not sure if I have something appropriate to wear to a funeral. Most of my clothes are very casual and the few dresses I own are sun dresses. I can’t exactly show up in a flowery sundress to a co-worker’s funeral─ jeans just seem disrespectful. After a little bit of searching, I find an online delivery service that will pick up something from a nearby store and deliver it tonight. I quickly browse through some dresses and pantsuits before deciding on a loose pair of slacks and a blouse. Thankfully I have a pair of decent black flats at home just for this sort of occasion. Now I know why my parents had told me to always have a pair of black dress shoes. 

I sigh, browsing through the T.V. It has been a long time since I’ve been to a funeral. The last one had been my Nana Genny’s. I remember it being a very cold day. It was the sort that makes you shiver no matter how many layers of clothing you had on. I was still in my teens, old enough to understand death, but still too immature to understand. It hadn’t really hit until grandpa Jay had started dating again. When he remarried, mom stopped talking with him. I’m not sure why she did, after all he was only human. I never hated him for it, he had been with nana for over forty years. It must have been hard to be with someone for so long and then suddenly they are gone. I don’t think I would want to be alone either. I still call him from time to time to check in and see how he is doing. Grandpa Jay had hoped someday mom would come around. I do too. A chill runs along my arms and up through my head. I wonder if maybe I am getting sick from all the stress. I am not sick often, but when I do it normally takes me out for a few days. I had the flu once as a child and I’ll never forget it. It is probably why I get my shot every year and wash my hands like it is some sort of religion. The kids always poked fun of me for it, but guess who never gets sick? Let them laugh, cleanliness always wins and I am the proof. 

After wasting some time browsing my phone and trying again for the hundredth time to find these mysterious Watchmen, I decide that a trip to the sauna sounds better. I am pleased to find when I arrive that there is only a family in the pool and an older man in the hot tub. The sauna is people-free. I slip my shoes off and walk into the steamy bliss. The length of my body stretches out on the bench and I wiggle my toes. It feels amazing. The heat stings my lungs a little but I don’t mind. I just want this chill to melt from my bones. I only remember feeling this way once, and it had been the flu. Hopefully I’m not getting sick. I close my eyes and breathe deeply, only focusing on my breath drawing in and then out. I imagine that I am floating in my own ship in the middle of space, staring at the small particles floating by. The sun heats my back as I face out toward the galaxy. Jupiter looms nearby, huge and deadly─ but beautiful. I am mesmerized by the swirling multicolored gas. I bathe in the warm glow of the sun as it kisses my bare skin. I am completely alone. This has been a form of meditation for years. The thought of being completely isolated and floating through space comforts me. I think it would have the opposite effect for most people. To me, it is heaven. Lately I find myself wanting to be alone more and more. I could live by myself with my computer and art. Art has been a way of life for me for as long as I can remember. I would love to sit outside and draw everything I saw, especially people. I have brought my sketchbook along for this very reason. It’s probably time to do something that calms my nerves before the funeral. I also will need to present something at work. We have weekends off but I never stop drawing. It brings me joy to paint and draw more than anything in this world.

I take several long breaths. Don’t think about that now, I say to myself, think about the warmth. I focus on the heat and my breath. Suddenly, my mind wanders to the first night I had experienced this─ the first night that I had experienced Them. Despite the terrifying sensation of another being thriving off of my pain, I am curious about what They are. Their black hoods flash in my mind and I can see nothing but blackness behind them. Their long, thin bodies would disappear into a sort of translucent grey haze. They never move and stand perfectly still. Deathly still. The beings never say anything, they don’t need to. You can just sense them. Sort of like when you were a child and try to sneak up on your parents. No matter how quiet you thought you were being, they would turn around and shout, ‘boo!’ scaring you instead. Only, these things were dense. They press in upon you until you cannot breathe. Your breath becomes shallow, and your chest feels as though you can be crushed alive at any moment. Your heart feels like it is being torn from your chest. And then comes the cloying, damp air as they invade our plane of existence. They stand there merely existing when they shouldn’t. These awful, horrible creatures shouldn’t be allowed to. And yet I feel as if I can get used to that if it were something as simple as being uncomfortable. Nothing compares to the sensation of death after gruesome death. If this is as bad as my visions, I would lay there and suffer until they decide to release me. Death isn’t what scares me, living does. Please let it take me out in a blast of fiery glory. It will be a welcome end to my suffering. 

There is a thought that is beginning to sprout with each passing day. Little by little, I water it and entertain the idea. Zedd was right to do what he did, and I think that I will follow suit. Whatever these creatures are, they aren’t going to stop. I just know that I will die as slowly as possible. Besides, even if I can stock up and get the hell out of dodge, what then? It won’t save me from the fallout. The odds of me finding someone with an underground bunker that’s willing to share is slim to none. There has to be a few of them out there, right? That won’t save the human race. Because in the blink of an eye, entire cities will be wiped out. There will be a lull as the survivors try to seek shelter or help, but by then the radiation sickness will start─ and then black rain. The bombs will take people out in the city right away but the ones just outside of it will suffer this horror in tenfold. People like my parents, people’s families. Even if a decent size population somehow makes it, the hospitals won’t be able to keep up. It will take decades to recover from it. I sigh and my eyes open. I stare at the wooden ceiling above me. I want to be helpful. I want to be one of those people that decide that no matter what, humanity can prevail and I can save them. The truth is, no matter how hard I try or what I say, I have zero proof. And proof is all that matters. If it were me listening to someone say that the world would end, I would laugh and roll my eyes and then move on. It shouldn’t matter to me, but it does. It’s frustrating, and maybe we were both crazy but it doesn’t stop me from getting my feelings hurt. Humans are weird, emotional beings and sometimes I hate being in my own skin. All I can do is try and warn them all and then I can leave with a clean conscience. As dumb as this idea is, I will make it my mission for the next five days to do what I can. I don’t want to live in this kind of world but I can help everyone else that will be stuck in it. 

The Watchmen – Part III – A Horror Novella

Part I

Part II

Seven days.

Somehow, I have made it through the night. My head feels disembodied and I have the beginnings of a horrible migraine. I down a glass of water and take a few painkillers. My feet shuffle across the cool bathroom tiles and I turn toward the mirror. I take a good look at my reflection and frown. My cheek bones look sharper than usual and my eyes are watery. There are two dark circles under each of my eyes. I paw through my hair several times and then give up. Maybe a shower will help to tame this unruly mane. There is something almost ritualistic to removing your clothing and stepping into a shower. It’s like stripping back old, peeling paint to reveal a beautifully stained wood beneath. I close the glass door behind me and walk into the burning spray. It’s almost too much to bear but after several seconds my body adjusts. I needed this more than anything right now. I would have stayed in here longer but I can feel the water cooling. I sigh and turn the handle back to the center.

It turns out a long hot shower does do wonders for my energy. My head feels floaty but that is to be expected given my impending migraine. I draw a comb through my curls, dab on some concealer, and then lip moisturizer. I am not a huge fan of makeup but I still like to look presentable from time to time. My hair is thick and wavy and it can never seem to make up its mind on color. Some days it is a fiery copper and on others it appears a reddish-brown like the color of a fox’s coat in winter. I remember someone telling me once that it was auburn, but I think it really depends on the time of year. It is something that I have always hated about it, but I have good hair days too. I’m not a tall girl, but I’m not short either. I’m stuck between what guys considered cute and not cute. The girls that got the most attention in high school were small and petite. I’ve always been awkward, and quiet. Dating never made sense to me. I usually get through it by reading, playing games at home, and drawing. No one speaks to me because of my quiet nature and I kind of like it that way. It’s easy to keep track of a few friends from time to time.

I’m not sure why I am reflecting on this now. It has been five years since I have been to high school. Once I had gone to college, I replaced my old friends with new ones. Since graduation we had started moving on with our lives. I’m not really the sort to chase after friends. Besides, I have been comfortable with my own company for years. It’s a hard pill to swallow knowing that the one person I could share this burden with is gone. I have so many things that I wanted to ask him. The worst of it is I only have one week left and still no answers. If this really is the end of the world, I’m screwed. I can’t blame Zedd for tapping out, these visions are awful. They are so vivid that you can’t differentiate fantasy from reality. If fantasy is even the right word. I shiver thinking about the Creatures’ joy as they savored my agony. Will it really be so horrible? Or will I fly into a million pieces and burn to ash after the first blast? Even if the bombs only hit the major cities, the fallout would be devastating. I can’t save everyone, but I can damn sure try. Thinking about it depresses me. Who will take me seriously? They won’t. I sag into the bed and tuck my legs under me. The only way they would understand is if they have seen what I have. That thought has me curious─ if Zedd had seen them there has to be others right? I can go online, seek others through communities, and then maybe discuss it with them. I have seven days, maybe we could all meet up and change other people’s minds. Yeah, like a doomsday cult? Ugh. Nope, we’re fucked. No one will buy it and honestly, maybe it is just a freak coincidence that two people have shared. I know somewhere in the deepest part of my heart this is wrong, but I want to believe that none of it is true.

But, I have put this all off long enough. I stand and walk over to the piece of paper and then open it. I look at the entire page, frown, and then scan it again. It hasn’t changed since yesterday. It changes every day─ why has it not changed this time? What have I done differently? It occurs to me and suddenly I feel like an idiot. Shit, I curse silently, it’s because I haven’t slept. It has even changed the number of days but the picture is the same. I only get to see the illustrations if I actually live that pain in my dreams.  I will have to endure them for another six days, almost seven. At least it’s falling in-line with what I have hypothesize. I had fallen asleep on the bus before and the picture hadn’t changed. I’m fairly certain, however, it has to do with it being the same day. There is only one way to test it and I really don’t want to. I alert the front desk that I will be staying another day. It’s a good thing this is the slow season, so no one has reserved the room. I tell them there is no need for fresh sheets, ask for a few more towels, and then hang up. I feel wiped out, there is no way I am going to stay awake even if I want to. I jot down a note to just leave towels inside even if I am here and then collapse under the blankets. 

#

When I wake the sun is low in the sky and the room has become frigid. I sit up and stretch, then glance at my phone. It is nearly six o’clock. I yawn and throw the blankets off feeling refreshed. I relieve myself in the bathroom, wash my hands, and apply a bit more Chapstick and base. I grab my phone, laptop, the paper, and change into a pair of jeans and a long sleeved shirt. I take one last look at myself, grab my wallet, and then I am out the door. Thankfully, the town has a little strip and there are several restaurants and coffee shops to choose from. I settle on a diner that has wi-fi and claim to have the best breakfast in town. My stomach grumbles as I slide into the booth, reminding me that I haven’t eaten in twelve hours. The place is warm in colors and modernized enough that it doesn’t feel like a diner. There is no tacky art, or cheap looking benches. The colors are tasteful and calm. I feel comfortable here, it is an environment that invites you to stay with soothing music and friendly staff. I can’t remember the last time that I felt like a place wanted you there for a while. “Hey there,” the lady smiles as she walks up to me, “what can I start you off with?” I can tell she is older, but extremely attractive. She has a kind face with warm brown eyes and silky dark brown hair. I hate to admit it but I am pretty envious of that hair. I have always wanted to rock one of those edgy, straight haircuts instead of my messy waves.  

“Hey,” I smile back, “is it OK if I stay here for a bit after I eat?” The woman grins from ear to ear. “Of course you can, sweetheart. Stay as long as you like. What can I get for you?” I skim over the menu, quickly realizing there are way more options than I anticipated. “Uh,” I stutter, “how about pancakes and sausage with some coffee?” Her eyes crinkle as she jots down my order, “you want one or two pancakes?” “Three,” I say quickly. Her eyes widen, but she nods. “You take cream and sugar?” “Just cream,” I say. She nods again and then walks away calling over her shoulder that she’ll be right back. I’m not sure why I keep putting off looking at the paper. I’m still in shock over the fact that I slept so peacefully. I honestly can’t remember dreaming. Thank goodness for small miracles. I stare at the little sliver of paper as if at any moment, it will catch fire in my bag. I want more than anything for the same city with the same hooded figures to be present. Maybe it is just affecting the new city I moved to. Either way, I am not prepared to find out. I have the weekend to depress myself further. And then what? I wonder. Warn everyone in those two cities to evacuate? Yeah, that will go over well. About the only thing I can do to make people listen is phone in a bomb threat. I’m not familiar with protocol on this, but I’m quite sure they would dismiss it as a practical joke in less than a day. It may save several people’s lives though, so it may be a good option. If they even would issue a city-wide evacuation. I grow more apprehensive by the second. There is no way the city would take a woman’s threat seriously. Even if it is a bomb threat. They probably receive a handful of those throughout the years. Shit, with all the crazy people out there, I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s once a month.

I make a mental list of what I would need to do so people will take me seriously:

  1. Voice changer
  2. Google number
  3. Suspicious activity that could point to potentially being a bomb placed there?

Shit.

This won’t work, why would I even think it would? I suddenly feel sick to my stomach. How in the actual hell do I make other people think I’m not insane? The one person that would have helped me is dead. At least he won’t have to suffer through all of this. I’m very envious of that right now. I would love to be gone, boom─ light’s out. No pain, no skin peeling back or shards raking through the meaty pulp of my exposed flesh, no creaking bones or dangling eyes. I swallow grasping at my neck. Suddenly I feel extremely parched. My hands shake as I guzzle down water the waitress brought me earlier. If there is any hope of finding solace, it is long gone. I feel heavy in my skin. I can’t move. I don’t want to. The weight of everything is seeping in. How could so much have changed in a matter of a week? It went from the best moment of my entire life, to the single-worst experience I’ve known in my twenty-three years. A bullet to the brain isn’t sounding too bad right now. I remember taking a neuroscience class and the professor telling us that there are no pain receptors in the brain. Once the bullet got past the nerves on the flap of skin that covered my skull, I would feel nothing. In a different time these sort of thoughts would have been miles away before today. It’s evolving into a sort of fantasy now. One in which I could squeeze the trigger and─ “Here you go, sweetie.” I jerk slightly at her soft voice, but manage a smile. “Thank you very much,” I reply.

She pauses and then takes on that sort of tone you only hear from your mother, “You OK hun? You’re looking a bit pale.” I take a moment to look into her soft, amber eyes and then shake my head, “oh, I’m fine. Just a little tired is all.” She purses her lips and raises a finely manicured eyebrow at me, “alright, I get it. I was a young girl once. Your food will be right out. You just holler at me if you need anything else.” She places a hand on my shoulder and pats it softly. Normally physical touch would be something that bothers me. I would shy away or tilt my body in a way that would keep them from reaching me. Sort of an unspoken message about boundaries. I have done it all my life. Strange how lately I’ve welcomed other’s touch, like an attention starved child. Both this waitress and Devon have managed to do it in less than a handful of days.

#

I sigh, content with a full belly. I’ve put the note off long enough, but I still go ahead and check my phone messages and emails first. Zedd’s funeral is going to be held on Monday and everyone from work is invited to come and pay their respects. Poor Devon, I want more than anything to make it better for him. It must be hard to both lose someone close and have a new employee that same week. I can’t imagine what he is going through right now. I try thinking of things that I could send in a text message─ maybe some comforting words, but my brain just draws a blank. What do you say to someone that you barely know about someone else you barely know dying? I decide that I will wait and do it later, I feel too scattered right now. I am on my third refill of coffee when I finally decide that I am ready. No matter what that piece of paper shows me, I still have time to think about what I can do. With shaky hands I reach into my bag and remove it. I slowly pry one side open and brace myself for the content. It is now or never. I am about to find out if this is going to happen all over or just in my home town and back in Dallas. I know that it is hoping for too much, to think it is all a coincidence, but who knows? Maybe it is. The city of Santa Fe burns in front of me as I unfold the last corner of paper. Crestfallen, I search the page. The hooded figures are hard to see, but they are there in the mountains. The beautiful, charming city is a pile of rubble. The mushroom cloud looming over it high in the mountain air. A single tear drops down and lands at the bottom of the page. I swipe at my face, embarrassed to be crying in a public place.

Before I fold it back up, my eyes look to where the poem has ended:

This night, hallowed night, They gifted the world to silence.

#

6

I have less than a week. I muse on the last line and then on the poem itself. It sounds as if people are these little, lost creatures that death would guide home. Except this is nothing like I expect it to be. Instead these horrible, awful beings that enjoy my suffering exist in my life. Suddenly I’m bitter. Why me? Why can’t I just live in perfect bliss and die. I remember stories told to me as a child that death would come swiftly to those that remained good and kind. Death bringers were brutal to those that are wicked, not compassionate beings. Except, of course, the four horsemen in the book of revelations. Not that I am educated on any of that. I haven’t touched a single book of religion in my life and from what I did know I was a child at the time. It’s been ages ago, but I do remember that one of the horsemen is a bringer of war. Surely, these harbingers of death aren’t with a divine being that created us. Why would a god create something so─ merciless? This is pointless thinking. Even if I know exactly what they are, I will be powerless to stop it. And six days isn’t exactly enough time to research anything properly. I sink into the chair. Every waking moment is a countdown to the end. I stare outside into the beautiful, quaint town and then over at the kind waitress. I will certainly do everything within my power to protect her. And possibly anyone else that will listen. It may be a fruitless endeavor, but at least I can die knowing that I tried. I really am that brand of idiot. I sigh and pull out my laptop. Maybe I can find something online that will help. Hopefully with any luck others that are like me.

#

After more than an hour of searching, I have just about given up. There are, it seems, a lot of people that believe that the end of the world has been coming for a while now. There’s cultists, evangelists─ standard forums with conspiracy theory nut-jobs, and just about anyone in between but none of them have described what both me and Zedd have been through. I pull the note out again and look it over. What am I missing? We couldn’t have been the only ones. I even google notes about end days, and bombs, and near death experiences with bombs. All of which have had some─ interesting results, but not the ones that I am searching for.

“Hun, I just wanted to let you know that you’re fine to stay as long as you’d like but would you mind scooching over to the smaller table there, in the back?” She motioned over to where the tables were back toward the kitchen. Her face looks genuinely contrite as if she has disturbed me during an important bit of work. My face probably has the serious look my mom would point out as I would become lost in my art. “It’s just, I’ve got a family that needs seating and that table’s a might small for them.” I nodded my head and quickly get up. “Of course” I stutter, “not a problem at all.” It takes a minute to realize how busy the place has gotten since I have come in. I make my way over to the smallest table that I can find and get everything set up. The soft voices have risen to a dull roar as the restaurant fills with noisy guests. I know I can go back to the hotel, but I prefer the company of the waitress and the people. It makes me feel less alone. I unfold the paper for the thousandth time hoping that I may have missed something important. I feel like I have googled everything possible, except─ I glance over the text and on my current online search. Hold on. I blink and then look between the two of them again. One of the forums has mentioned Watchmen and it’s in several parts of the poem. I feel my excitement rising, maybe there is something to that. I try my luck at searching Watchmen. I frown at all the cartoon images and shortly find out that there is a comic, a movie, and a T.V. show by the same name. Damn. I try again, this time adding the term apocalypse with it─ and then, end times. All that manages to bring up are the same nut-jobs. Nothing, or no one is mentioning them specifically. Hooded figures brought up the usual comic-like illustrations of death, but nothing like the hyper-realistic drawings that lined my page. Nothing that could instill the sort of dread I have in the pit of my chest as I stare at their dark, hungry faces. I shiver, running my hands up and down my arms. I know I have been at the diner for a while, but I didn’t realize how long until the smell of food makes my stomach rumble.

I smile over at my coffee mug. The waitress has been amazing and kept it full for me. I wave across at her and she quickly shuffles over. “What can I do for you? You about ready for that check?” I smile sheepishly, “Actually, I’m starving and ready for round two. What’s really good here?” Her smile widens and she glances over at the kitchen, then leans in, “you won’t believe it, but we have the best enchiladas on this side of town. Even better than Enchilada’s up the street. The owner’s son makes his mama’s recipe and I swear to you, that boy puts love into every layer.” I grin back at her, “Alright, um─ I pause looking at her nametag but frown when I don’t find one. “Laura,” she says softly. “Laura,” I repeat. We smile, “I’ll take the enchiladas with red sauce.” She makes an ‘ooo’ shape with her mouth nodding her head, “good choice um─” she looks down at me, her lips pursed comically as she waits, her pen posed in the air. “Kate,” I say giggling at the silliness. Man, I needed this in my life right now. “Alright Miss Kate, I will have those mouth-watering enchiladas out to you asap.” She swishes away and I’m practically glowing from the attention. The sun looks as if it is about to come up. I glance at my phone, and then look again─ it is 5:45─ in the morning. I can’t believe I have been here for nearly ten hours. Enchilada’s must have been an anytime meal here but they sound like a pretty damn good breakfast for me. I watch as Laura bustles about wiping down tables and grabs checks. It is probably nearing the end of her shift. Honestly I’m surprised that she is still here. Aren’t normal hours around six or eight for waitresses? I really want to tell her everything, but not sure how to say it. How do you tell someone to leave town without sounding like a total crack pot? I mean, I don’t look like a terrorist, it’s kind of hard to when you’re still mistaken for a teenager at twenty-three. But she won’t take it seriously unless I word it in such a way that it’s believable. At least I will have time to think about it over a hot meal.

In less than fifteen minutes, a large plate of ooey-gooey stacked enchiladas tower in front of her. Every layer contains onion, cheese, eggs, and crema. The corn tortilla’s smell reminded her of a mom and pop taco shop she had visited as a kid. They were fresh, maybe even handmade. It’s filled and topped with red enchilada sauce, a generous amount of cotija cheese, and a fried sunny-side up egg. It’s so pretty I almost don’t want to dig in with a fork. My stomach has other ideas, however, and I find myself practically wolfing it down. About halfway through, I slow down and really taste all of the flavors. There are little bits of fresh onion and I sigh in content. Normally, I’m not a fan of raw onion but somehow it works with all the ingredients. I need to get this recipe, it  is definitely last meal worthy. Laura hadn’t been joking when she said it was made with love. I panic when I don’t see her for a few minutes, nervous that I have missed my chance to talk. My eyes tear up when she rounds the corner with a fresh steaming mug of coffee. “Hey sweetheart, I’m about to end my shift but I thought I’d bring─” she pauses, getting a look at my face. “I know it isn’t my place, but, you sure you OK? I got a few minutes before I need to head home and feed the pups.” I smile through blinding tears and though I’m trying to be brave, they manage to slip down my cheeks. I pat at the chair across from me. She doesn’t even hesitate and slides into it. “What’s going on? Boy trouble?” She smiles with a faraway look in her eye as she stares out into the street. She turns back to me, her warm eyes widening. She places a hand over mine and pats it gently. “This seems much worse than just a man. You’re not in trouble are you?” She hesitates and glances around before leaning in and whispers, “my brother is a cop, he wouldn’t be awake right now but I could see if there is something that could be done for you.” She crosses her legs and leans back, her cool hand not leaving mine. “Some cities have piss-poor excuses for cops, you know the usual amount of corruption and politics. I’m not saying we don’t have any of that, we’ve got our share too, but the cops around here take care of us and I guarantee Rob would listen.”

I’m floored by this woman’s kindness. Back at home waitresses wouldn’t hardly look at you, let alone offer help to a stranger. Everyone is sort of buttoned up in Pennsylvania. You just didn’t talk about your problems, especially at home. Talking to a stranger? That would be unheard of. Mom and dad were good people, but not warm people. We’ve always been quiet about most things. If I came home with a bad grade, I would get a head shake from dad and my mom would softly say, “Kate, you can do better.” It was that quiet that always pushed me to get some sort of reaction or acknowledgement of my achievements. The best I would get was a satisfied grunt from dad and a smile and pat from mom. Maybe she would even rub up and down my arms affectionately. I lived for those sort of reactions, it made me warm and feel all glowy─ like I could accomplish anything.

It wasn’t as if they didn’t show affection or show that they were worried, it is just a different sort of love. This is open and raw. I really can’t wrap my mind around it, but I appreciate it just the same. Finally, I am able to find my voice, “I need you to listen to me and not judge. Just, keep an open mind─ OK?” My voice comes out shakier than I wanted it to. I never sound strong. I always sound like a scared little girl. I hate how soft my voice is. She raises her eyebrows and nods slowly, “alright, I can do that. Don’t you worry about how you sound.” Her voice is encouraging because she thinks she’s rescuing me from something. She thinks maybe I’m running away from an abusive relationship, or bad parents. If only it were that simple.

I inhale deeply and steady myself to try and sound like a rational human being. How can I word it to where she will listen? I decide on telling her the truth, but add a believable lie. I feel somewhat guilty about it, but it is the only way she will buy what I’m selling. I clear my throat and begin, “my family works in the government,” I start. She frowns and then nods at me. I can tell she is realizing that this isn’t going to be a normal problem. I am not entirely lying about that─ my dad, now retired, had worked in the post office for over thirty years and my mother was a public school teacher. “I came out here because I wanted to see for myself if things were happening like back at home.” My voice sounds a little more confident this time and I feel my shoulders relax. I can do this, I tell myself, maybe I can save people.

Laura has let go of my hand and she’s hugging her arms. “Alright, go on,” she whispers. I look back at the restaurant and then lean in toward her, “You and your brother should get as far away as you can from any major city. I’m talking miles away, go to the desert or the Colorado woods, Arizona, or hell even Texas. Just─ get away from Santa Fe.” Her eyes grow hard and she purses her lips. She crosses her arms and looks me up and down. Laura looks like a real mom now sizing me up. The tears are really starting to come and I grab a napkin and swipe at my face and nose. I can tell she isn’t convinced. “I─” my words falter a bit as I hiccup. I wipe my face and try again, “I just want to tell someone. I don’t expect you to believe me, but Laura,” I look deeply into her eyes, my brows creasing, “Something very bad is going to happen here and I need you to believe me. I’m not crazy, or some sort of conspiracy nut, I just want to help you because you’ve been very kind to me.”

Laura nods and bites down on her lip. “I appreciate what you’re trying to do here,” she pauses, “but this is my home. I don’t know where I would go, and I mean, I just met you. You could be pranking me for all I know.” I sniff and let out a long sigh. “However, I don’t think that you are ,” she adds. She looks off to the side, her voice taking on a resigned quality, “Listen, I miss a day of work and it’s a big deal.” She shakes her head at me, “I’m comfortable, but it’s because I keep my longer hours and I have my regular customers.” She sighs, “even if it were something bad, Antonio could lock up the place and we could just hide in the back or stay put.” She’s dismissing it in her mind and thinks I’m some sort of spooked child. “You can’t hide from this,” I say firmly, “no one can. Laura it will take out half of the planet, please try to hear what I’m telling you.” She stares into my eyes, “you actually believe this, don’t you?” I nod. “I don’t just believe it, I’ve seen it.” She fidgets with her hands, “like, a bomb going off? They would have had that on the news, hun.” I’ve lost her, I can feel it. No matter what I say, she’s going to think I’m just some misinformed girl who’s father has scared her. She probably thinks he’s some government conspiracy nut too. There are a lot of them in government offices. How can I make her understand? The answer is simple, I can’t. I can try my best but at the end of the day it boils down to what she accepts in her own mind. I feel sick to my stomach, but I realize this is all that I can do. “It won’t be in the news. It will just hit.” I gently massage the space that is between my eyebrows and the bridge of my nose with my thumbs. “Listen, I know how all of this sounds, but I have to at least try. There’s nothing that I can say or do to convince you, I just want you to know.” The tears have mostly dried so I dab at the remaining wetness, happy to be free of them.

“Well, I appreciate it sweetheart, but I think someone may be messing with you. If it is something this big, I think half of the world would have known about it by now. Especially with all these damn satellites, and movement detection, and thermo-whatever─ these men have got their war devices on lock down. I don’t think anyone really wants to use them, you know? Doesn’t bode well for the planet’s health and just about everyone would die.” I raise an eyebrow, “Putin doesn’t give two shits about anyone. I could see him doing it easily.” She tilts her head and nods, “fair point. But look, even if it got that bad, we have counter-measures in place for that reason. Lots of people will die, and that is awful, but I don’t think anything like what you are describing would happen.” I nod, lost in my own thoughts. I knew this would be the way it would go, and that’s how it will be with anyone. Even if someone told me the same way that I’m telling her. It is a lost cause. I stand up and extend my hand, “Thank you, Laura. I really appreciate everything that you have done for me today. More than you could ever know. You take care of yourself.” I turn and walk away. I hear her say something but I am several feet away at this point and can’t hear it. It doesn’t matter and I can’t care about it right now. She will be lost just like the rest of them.

Is this how the world will really end?

Haunting Hour Podcasts Starting Back Up!

Hey guys! It’s been a bit and a long emotional journey but finally I have found a place to live. I am so very lucky to be able and record in my own room which is so foreign to me that I was in shell shock for two days just staring at the beauty. My own room for art, and recording. While I have a long time ahead to be able and replace all of my things, I am grateful that I have been able to replace my microphone.

For those of you left in the dark, I was caught in the floods in Dallas and my home was completely destroyed. I had to live in hotels until this week and finally am able to get back to a normal life.

I’ve been trying to decide when the big day will be that I can finally start releasing more episodes and believe that I can start on either the first or second week of October. Just in time for the spookiness! Needless to say that I am ecstatic for my favorite time of year to begin. While most of my holiday décor was destroyed, I can at least carve pumpkins and maybe string up festive garland. Oh and movies. Lots and lots of creepy movies. This time of year is just the best and I love it!

Of course as most of you know, I’m not one to keep up with social media and I’m a bit of a hermit but I do so love to write and make podcasts for all of you. Know that your dark story mistress is back babyyyy and we’re all about to get our spooky on again.

  • xoxo Grey

This week’s adventure in flood land

Not going to lie, this past month has been hard. Our entire (very up to date vaccinated staff) office got the new variant of COVID. No one in Dallas is talking about it, but several of my buds working in hospitals have said they’re filling capacity again.

So. That was fun.

My new hire was a complete bust. It was a hard lesson learned not to purchase work attire for them before seeing if they stay.

It took a couple weeks, but finally got a new hire and man she seems great. Here’s hoping.

Because I had to hold down the fort while people were in quarantine, I ended up getting it myself. But I can’t shut down so I had to power through, take meds, sanitize everything several times a day and warn customers. Let’s just say burn out was putting it lightly as to what I was feeling.

Oh, and it was great getting a one star review because I wasn’t able to answer the phones and a lot of text messages. 👍

Thank goodness they removed it after I explained the situation and apologized. It was just exhausting. But finally, we were able to get things back on track.

So the new girl was hired, business was running smoothly, and I got to spend an awesome weekend with my daughter.

Then it happened.

Around 3:00 a.m. I woke up to my entire downstairs flooded.

My life was down there. My daughter’s life was down there. I managed to save computers (at least I hope, I have been leaving them off just in case.)

I was in shock most of today, trying to dig through what I could salvage. I had to be really careful because flood water contains sewage.

Literally 90% of her stuff was not salvageable. A good 60-70% of mine was also not.

The most devastating thing was my recording equipment. I can’t even think about that without feeling like I’m about to cry. I just bought that equipment and it’s gone.

And this isn’t even everything. It’s all I have the heart to post. For my recording area.

All my downstairs furniture, specialty cooking ware, food, craft supplies, art supplies, easels, paintings, the list goes on. Several thousand dollars gone. Just. Gone.

I can really use some good vibes guys, and virtual hugs.

Take care everyone. Hope all is well with you.

Love Grey

New Horror Podcast Is Up! Link In Post.

We kick off season 1 of The Haunting Hour with part 1 of a horror short called My Family Is Falling Apart. You can check it out here. We begin our story seeing through the eyes of a heartbroken father as he struggles through a rough divorce. But this isn’t like any other divorce─ his ex becomes increasingly strange and then without warning his daughter disappears. Follow along as the twists and turns unfold in this dark mystery.

Not suitable for children under the age of 13.

The Haunting Hour Podcast Returns and Other News

It’s a Wednesday morning and I’m at my desk wondering how on earth I got here in life. It’s an odd feeling working in such a male-dominated industry and yet, so fulfilling. It’s a buzzword these days ‘male-dominated’ and I think it goes without saying people are probably a little tired of hearing it. But in an industry like HVAC (unless you are mainly on the supply side) there are very few female workers.

It can get stressful and yes, extremely challenging with customers that are not used to not only ‘retail workers’ (I use this word very loosely because we run a unique business) not knowing what they are talking about, but especially female employees. At the end of the day though, helping others brings a certain joy into my life that I never knew could exist.

Unfortunately running a business also means less time to do a lot that I would like to do. Curse you, sleep─ I wish that I didn’t need you! I was tremendously excited to get my new podcast equipment this past Christmas and to also get my sound booth up and running. While I’m not 100% sure that I will be able to do a weekly show, I would enjoy making the show an every other week release.

If you’re not familiar with my past work, you can find my podcasts here, and my writing here.

If you’ve been following me on Twitter you’ll know that I sometimes do story threads! I will probably try and put those up on this website so you can follow what is going on. If you’d like to participate on a vote just get notifications set up so you can see when to make the magic happen.

So these are just a few things to expect from a girl that really likes to get spooked and fascinated by the unknown. Buckle up buttercups, we’re all in for a fantastic spooky ride! Happy Wednesday ❤

xoxo-

Grey

Halloween is just around the corner!

So, I know my last few blogs have been political and I didn’t want them to all be downers so I thought I would start one off this morning with a little cheer. I can’t believe that Halloween is this Sunday, holy cow how time has flown by! I am more than ashamed that nothing of mine has been updated in quite some time. Finding the will to motivate myself with mountains of work this summer left me depleted. However, the good news is we are starting the slow season for our state which means I get far more time to do this. It feels like stretching after a long rest from head to toe. You know the kind─ where your body tingles and shivers and your toes curl. *sigh*

How is everyone else’s week going? Anyone ready for the coming holidays? I am so confused at myself this year because literally all of my Christmas shopping is completed. Me? Not procrastinating? Wow. Needless to say I am both impressed and excited to lose some of that holiday stress.

So, what makes Halloween special for all of you? I realize it’s not for everyone─ some people view it as a scary or satanic holiday which makes me really sad because it is such a unique and fun holiday! Also, c a n d y. >:3

I remember roaming the streets as a kid, mystified by all of the time and effort people had put into their homes for just one night of the year. Just like many middle class neighborhoods, our neighbors went the extra mile to give us a night to remember. This still happens today and I find that the more upper class areas we visit don’t seem to participate as much─ most houses are dark. Well boo to them!

Even today I find myself loving to get spooked and watching horror movies. I used to go to haunted houses all the time but I’ve grown tired of some of the tired old troupes: zombies, clowns, asylums, mad scientist. There is one that seemed pretty interesting this year at Dark Hour, it’s a witch cult themed. I’m thinking I may have to check that out before the season’s over. What I’ve really been into as-of-late are escape rooms. Even though (bless my heart) I’ve only managed to escape two out of five I’ve played. Granted, it is only me and my kiddo, but we have a total blast. If I’m being honest, we both like to keep it that way. It’s sort of a bonding experience that feels icky with other people in the mix. And of course, being the type of people we are, choose the absolute hardest rooms they have. Oh, but the satisfaction is immense when we solve each puzzle─ even the one’s we have failed we came within five minutes of solving. So frustrating, yet motivating at the same time!

Though my time has been scarce I have managed to write and though I’ve mentioned it like a bajillion times (totally a word. Is it? wait─ hmm.), I feel like I’m at a point that I am comfortable with saying I can release it soon. It’s probably also a good idea to make sure I separate the writing from blogs, as some of my blogs can be ._.zzzz

With that being said, I hope everyone has a great day today and feels like happy, dancing chipmunks whirl across your mind in a sea of glitter, rainbows, and unicorn poo~

❤ – Grey

Summer time, best time… -_-

So, much to my protest, every second I’ve wanted to spend writing has been consumed by company time. Not that I am complaining, because busy is good─ it means I keep having a roof over my head and food on the table. But being ready to get back to writing and not able to has been a bit…frustrating to say the least. In any case, this is me saying yes, I am working on my next piece and yes, it will be posted. I’m really, really hoping that I can upload this coming weekend. The ending of The Watchmen – Part X – A Horror Novella is on my agenda as well, so don’t you worry─ it is coming. 😉

This is me, giving a public service announcement that yes, your girl is going to finish and write asap. Hopefully you guys are all set to blow things u─ I mean, spend time with family and definitely using fireworks in a safe manner. >:3

I plan on stuffing my face with all the things and watching fireworks. You guys da best, many hugs from me.

xoxo

– Grey