Five Disturbing Tales of Love and Blood Vol. 1 — Valentine Horror Stories

Abridged story transcript. Sexualized passages have been omitted or replaced with brief non-explicit editorial summaries in square brackets. This is not a verbatim transcript. Separate host segments and advertising are omitted. Prepared from an automatic transcription; residual transcription errors may remain. Story introductions between the tales are retained. This edition still contains adult themes and violence.

Be Mine by Shane Migliavaca She'd just sat down on the bed with the cat snuggling up next to her when the knock came at the door. Blake looked over at her roommate Cassie buried in her phone and closer to the door. Door? Cassie didn't answer. Nope, guess not. Blake looked down at her cat, Dean. Sorry, buddy. She stood as the cat looked up at her, completely disappointed.

Blake crossed the small, messy dorm room as another knock came. I got it. Huh? Cassie mumbled. Opening the door, Blake was greeted by Maggie from down the hall. The girl beamed at her from behind a pair of thick glasses. Here, she thrust a pink heart-shaped box at Blake. Uh, thanks, I guess, Blake said, taking the box. Maggie frowned. It's not from me.

It was sitting on the table in the lobby with your name on it. Oh, thanks. A box of candy? For her? There was nobody she could think of who'd do something like that. Going to the Valentine's dance tonight? Maggie asked before Blake could shut the door. Nope. Got a paper to finish. That sucks. Blake shut the door. It really did suck, but not for the reason Maggie thought.

She was struggling with the assignment, dragging her feet on it since day one. Now the deadline was looming. There was a pink envelope taped to the box's front with Blake's name written in glitter. Inside was a Valentine's card with a cute cat on the front which read, You're purr-fect. Underneath the card's message was another written in red ink. It read, Roses are red.

Violets are blue. I choose you. Meet me under the East Bleachers at 8pm. What's that? Cassie asked. She lives, Blake answered. Huh? Blake rattled the box. Someone left me a Valentine's gift. You got a secret admirer? Guess so. They want me to meet them tonight, under the bleachers. Probably some townie rapist looking to assault a rich college girl. I'm not rich. They don't know that.

Pop that fucker open, Cassie said, sliding forward on her bed. Bet there's a human heart inside. Nope, candies, Blake answered, popping a chocolate into her mouth. Damn, Cassie groaned. Gonna meet this mystery admirer? No time for love, Dr. Jones I've got a paper to finish Blake pet the cat, still lounging on her bed Before picking up her coat and book bag I'm off to the library Billy's letting me in Oh, kinky, Cassie laughed There's your secret heart sender Billy?

I'm pretty sure he's gay Well, so are you, Casey stated It doesn't work that way He doesn't have the kind of parts I like Blake slipped on her coat and rested the strap of the book bag on her shoulder. What about you? Meeting Steve at the dance? Cassie's gaze drifted over to her phone lying on the bed next to her. Nah, he's busy tonight.

Just gonna chill here with the cat and some TV. Oh, sorry. I knew you were looking forward to it. A smile crept across Cassie's face. Hey, we could go together. Blake could see the hopeful look in her friend's eyes, which made what she had to say painful. I'm sorry, I wish I could, she said. If I don't hunker down and finish this paper, I can't screw up.

My parents sacrificed a lot to get me here. She could feel her heart start to beat a bit faster as she imagined going back home after flunking out, the disappointment etched into her parents' faces. Blake felt sweat trickle down her cheek as she started to breathe more rapidly. Control, she told herself, taking in a deep, slow breath. Don't worry about it, I wasn't totally serious, Cassie said, perhaps sensing her friend's stress.

I'm better off staying in tonight anyway. Everything okay? Yeah, just a little bummed, nothing big. You sure? I could stay. I'm sure, go, get that paper done. Okay, I'm sorry. Don't be. I never am. Blake stepped out into the hallway, making her way past a group of girls all dressed up for the dance, before stepping outside into the bitter February air. The cold cut through her as she started across campus.

Taking a pair of earbuds from her coat, she hit play on her phone. She put together a mix for tonight, something to get her motivated and keep her going. Walking along a lit path, snow and ice crunched under Blake's boots. Taking in a deep breath of cold air, she felt her heartbeat going back to normal. Since middle school, Blake had suffered from panic attacks.

She had trouble keeping her grades up, trouble fitting in. She'd found ways to cope with it over the years with the help of the school counselor, Ms. Cheryl. Getting this paper finished would relieve a lot of stress. Most of the campus buildings were dark, only lit by a few lights left on and some spotlights on the outside. So many shadows, perfect for a townie to be lurking.

Blake wanted to laugh off Cassie's comment, but here, alone in the night, she wasn't so sure it was something to laugh at. Stopping to adjust her heavy book bag, Blake became aware of something as the song she was listening to faded out. Footfalls on the snow. She turned, picturing a salivating pack of townie boys ready to pounce. Ready to swing her book bag like a mace, Blake wouldn't go down without a fight.

She turned and found herself face to face with a campus security guard. Hey, hey miss, the man nodded. Where are you headed tonight? Not wanting to get Billy in trouble, she fibbed. Meeting a friend to study, she smiled. She noticed his name tag read Stew. He looked like a stew, Blake thought. I see, nose to the grindstone and all that. Commendable. Thanks.

Blake could feel his eyes on her as she continued on. She felt a little better knowing there was somebody out keeping watch while most of the campus was at the dance. The library, designed in the mid-60s, stood out against the rest of the campus, which had been renovated over the last few years. She knocked on the staff door around the building's back.

After a few minutes of standing around waiting and thinking Billy wasn't even there, the lock clicked and the metal door opened. A young man, a thin shadow of stubble covering his lower face, peeked his head out. His eyes darted back and forth before stopping on Blake. Is it secret? Is it safe? Billy, Blake said wearily. He smiled broadly. Sorry, couldn't resist. All this clandestine shit.

It was your idea for me to use the staff entrance. Didn't want somebody seeing you come in the front after hours. Old man Stiles would have my ass for breakfast. Blake shivered as the wind gusted. Gonna let me in already? My non-existent lady balls are freezing off. Billy stepped aside and Blake entered what appeared to be the library's office area. A cluttered mess of desks and cabinets.

From somewhere in the library, Elvis crooned away as they stepped into the main room. Only half-lit, the library was a maze of bookshelves and shadows. Feel free to set up shop anywhere. I'll be down here doing inventory a while, so don't worry about getting the boot. Blake smiled. Thank you for this. There's just too much chaos back at the dorm to focus.

Besides, Cassie didn't go out tonight. Oh, she didn't go to the dance? Nah. Got stood up. Kind of the same for me. All my help bailed so they could go to the dance. Well, at least you got the king. Music isn't going to be a problem, is it? Nope. Brought my own. Blake pointed to her earbuds. Where's it coming from anyway? Old Man Stiles has a record player hooked up to the PA.

He's got a shit ton of vinyl in his office. Billy pointed over his shoulder at the head librarian's office. Helps the night go by quicker. Blake headed upstairs and plopped down at a desk off in a corner. With her paper and reference material laid out on the desk, Blake popped open an energy drink and took a sip. Sweet, sweet caffeine. She unpaused her music and got to work.

Cassie's finger hung over the send button. How long ago had it been since she'd sent it? She wasn't sure. She read the message again. I know about the two of you. The message remained unseen by Steve. A part of her regretted sending it. The part that still loved him. Even though she'd seen them together. Fuck it. Fuck him. The shit. More cheaters coming up after this.

The TV promised. Cassie pet the cat lying next to her. Here I am on Valentine's Day petting my gay roommate's pussy, watching cheaters all alone. Cassie groaned, tapping the back of her head against the wall. Sorry, kitty, but I gotta bounce. Cassie put on some lipstick, looking at herself in the mirror. Fuck you, Steve. Putting on her jacket, Cassie looked at the cat curled up on her bed.

I'll leave the TV on for you. Learn from cheaters, pal. Don't fall in love. Snow had begun to fall, whipped along by the wind. Cassie was in the mood to do something. Bad. She could head to the dance, maybe find some action there. No. All those couples. Dancing. Kissing. She'd feel more alone than back in the dorm room. Instead, Cassie headed towards the library.

She hugged herself as the wind blew across the path, swirling snow in its wake. Cassie approached the sliding glass door and peered inside. She knocked on the glass. Hello? Anybody around? She shivered and knocked on the window again. There seemed to be music coming from inside. Someone had to be in there. Hey, anybody alive in there? Keep it down, a voice barked at her from inside.

Billy glared at her from over a stack of books. Cassie frowned. Sorry, geez. Is Blake in there? Why? I'm a roommate. I gotta tell her something. Cassie shivered. Please. Billy shook his head. Go around back. Thanks. Going around the back of the building, she saw the door open and the young man motioned for her to hurry up. He slammed the door shut behind them as Cassie silently gave thanks for the heat.

When I invited Blake to study here tonight, I didn't think it was an open invitation. Billy? Cassie asked. Blake didn't tell me you were such a grump. He laughed. I just don't want to get my ass in trouble. This job helps pay the bills. Cassie looked him over. I don't see any trouble with your ass. This visibly threw him off. Um, so Blake is upstairs studying.

I can show you the way. No need to show me. I've been here before. I know her hangout spot. I've noticed you around. Really? A loud knock from the front of the library startled the both of them. What the fuck? Billy complained. Are you expecting somebody? Um, no, unless the cat followed me. Bill Murdock? A man hollered from outside. Shit, Billy said.

Stay here. Stay hidden. Billy left the office. Cassie could hear him talking to the other man. Music from the speakers obscuring some of their conversation. Billy assured him everything was okay. The man laughed, then wished Billy a good night. He came back looking harried. Everything cool? Cassie asked. Yeah, just the security guy making his rounds. You better head up before someone else shows up.

Stu almost made it back to the security hut, as he called it, when his phone rang. The psycho theme ringtone told him all he needed to know. He didn't want to answer it, but ignoring it would be worse. Hi, honey. Stu tried to sound happy as he answered. What are you doing? Walking my rounds. How about you, honey? Sitting here alone, what do you think?

Shit. Wrong choice of words. I'm sorry, baby. If I could get out of this, I would, but there's nobody else. Tell me the truth. You're not banging one of those young college floozies, are you? No, he tried to reassure her. I never would. I love you. Somebody giggled. Are you laughing at me? He asked. The hell are you talking about? The childlike giggle came again.

This time, he was sure it wasn't his wife. okay who's out here another giggle came from somewhere in the dark just off the footpath stew took out his flashlight and shined it into the darkness he expected to see a couple of students pranking him but instead there was nothing stew what the hell is going on his wife asked sorry honey work gotta go he hung up stepping off the path he shined his light over the snow-covered ground.

There was nothing out of the ordinary, but a quick flash of movement among the trees caught his eye. More giggling wrung out. Look, knock it off, kid. Go back to the dance or the dorm. Unholstering his pistol, Stu approached the trees. If I catch you and you're high on something, your butt will be expelled. His gut instinct was to walk away. Don't give the little punk the satisfaction of playing their game.

Sadly, when it came to his job, Stu was a stubborn man, so he went forward. Listen, show yourself. I'll take you in. You can sleep it off on the couch and go in the morning. Sound good? Stu was answered with the sound of glass shattering. Shit. Had to do this the hard way. Ahead, through the trees, Stu could see the side of the visual arts building.

The glass of one of the ground floor windows had been broken. Shining the flashlight inside, he could see traces of snow on the dark linoleum floor. So much for a quiet night, he muttered, entering the side door. Rounding the corner, he stopped. Something was laid out on the floor in a straight line leading further down the hallway. Stu bent down, getting a good look at what was sitting on the floor.

A little pink, candy heart. For the first time he could remember, Stu was scared shitless. As much as he wanted to head back to the hut and forget this crap, he couldn't. He stood gun at the ready and followed the trail of candy. The trail ended in front of a pair of large auditorium doors. Stu nudged the doors open slowly. The large room was completely dark.

He advanced slowly down the main aisle, swinging his flashlight side to side. The light danced over the seats, pausing on each one long enough to see... nobody. There was only one place left someone could be hiding. The stage. The stage was made up to look like a girl's bedroom. There was a large bed, a desk, and nightstand. As he walked up the wooden steps to the stage, there was an obvious shape under the blankets on the bed.

A human shape. All right, Stu said, gun trained on the bed. Game's up. He yanked back the blankets in one swift motion, ready to grab the little shit hiding there. A grinning plastic face stared up at him from the human-sized doll that laid there. Suddenly, pain erupted from his left Achilles tendon. He fell hard, sending his gun and flashlight from his hands and across the stage floor.

Stu watched as the figure slid out from under the bed and stood brandishing a bloody knife in their gloved hand. The short figure wore a beat-up old army jacket with a gray hoodie underneath. The hood was pulled up, hiding their face in shadows. They playfully waved at him. Oh, God! Stu stammered. Turning over, he crawled towards the gun. Leave me alone! He screamed.

Those words would be Stu's last as the figure jumped on his back, driving their knees in and knocking the wind out of him. Stu felt the cold steel of the blade against his throat as that childish laugh filled his ears. Cassie found Blake sound asleep at her desk. She didn't have the heart to wake her sleeping friend. Instead, she went downstairs where Billy was still hard at work as Bobby Darin sang about the sea.

Don't you ever take a break? Sooner I get this done, sooner I get to go home and sleep, Billy said, scanning a book. Sleep is overrated. Come on, take a break. She walked over to Billy and leaned on one of the bookshelves, trying to look as seductive as possible. How's Blake doing? Billy asked, sounding a little uncomfortable with her close proximity. Unfortunately, she's sleeping.

Now, here's my thing. I'm having a bad night. I need something. Anything. To take my mind off the shit. She leaned in close to Billy's ear. So, how about taking a break? You're very attractive. Don't think I haven't noticed, but, um, I have a lot of work here and shit. She kissed him on the cheek. I can help. I'm very good with the Dewey Decimal System.

Well... Oh, Cassie exclaimed. So not gay. Huh? Billy looked up at her. Nothing, she said, breathing heavy. They were in the back corner of the library, behind a shelf of rarely used books. Cassie laid her head on Billy's bare shoulder. I don't do this. It's just tonight, she said. I don't want you to think I'm easy. I don't. I wouldn't, Billy said.

I know this is just a fluke, a one-time thing. I wouldn't say that, she laughed. We'll see, okay? Yeah. Cassie laid there feeling her heartbeat go back to normal. It was the first time she noticed. The silence. The record stopped, she said. Guess so. How much trouble would you be in if old man Stiles caught us? Are you crazy? He'd have my ass thrown out of school.

From what I've heard, this isn't the first time someone got some in the library. Miss Walton? Cassie nodded. And Coach Greer. It's a rumor, anyway. Billy laughed. It's more than that. I almost walked in on them one night in the projection room. She might have asked you to join in. The pair giggled. Well, I gotta get back to work, Billy said. I wish Cassie cut him off, kissing him.

I know. Duty calls, she sat up. I'll go see if Blake is up. The PA crackled with static as another record started to play. How? Cassie asked, looking at Billy. Only one way, he replied. Somebody else. Who? Blake wouldn't, I don't think. I'll go look. I'll go with you. Stay here. If it's the old man or Stu or somebody, I'm toast. He surprised Cassie by giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

She watched him hurry off, feeling a sudden nervousness. She waited, listening. With the music, it was hard to make anything out. Cassie could hear Billy say something. Then he yelled one word that sent a chill through her whole body. Run! Blake woke with a start. She'd dreamed of a dark figure standing behind her, stroking her hair. A great mechanical roar erupted from within it, making her jump.

Above her, the overhead heater rumbled to life. How long had she been asleep? How much time had she lost? She'd only meant to grab a quick nap. Groggy, Blake fumbled for her phone, knocking over an empty energy drink. Caffeine, you betray me. The earbuds dangled from her ears, but her phone was gone. Blake checked the rest of the desk and floor. What the hell?

It couldn't just be gone. From downstairs, music drifted up. Billy was still here. The music was something classical, though Blake wasn't sure of the composer. Blake went downstairs. Despite the music, there was an odd stillness to everything. Billy? The song reached its climax before going to static. Outside, wind rattled the library's large glass windows. The snow was starting to fall heavier now.

The clock over the front desk read, 1.30. She'd slept for hours. Billy, she called out again, worry straining her voice. From somewhere in the library, a childlike giggle answered her. Come on, this isn't funny. Stop screwing around. Fear climbed up her ribcage and threatened to take hold of her. A flicker of light caught Blake's eye. Something moved in the library's rear, accompanied by the sound of voices.

The light was coming from the conference room. The wall-mounted TV had been turned on, and a presentation on the college's renovations played to a darkened room. A lone figure sat, back to Blake, watching the screen. Blake walked around the side of the seated figure. Before she saw their face, she knew. Billy sat there, unmoving, staring straight ahead. A large, bloody wound covered his chest.

His arms laid outstretched in front of him, his hands cupped together, holding something. An offering. A heart sat in his hands. A note was pinned to it. I heart you. Written in blood. She ran from the room and charged the front door only to find. It locked. Frustrated and scared, she pounded on the glass. But it was unwavering. There had to be another way out.

The office. The office. Where Billy had let her in. Entering the office, Blake scanned the room. There could be somebody hiding behind one of the desks. The door on the other side of the room might as well have been miles away. Blake grabbed a silver letter opener from the nearest desk. She held it out like a crucifix to ward off some unseen evil.

Blake got to the door without incident and found it locked. Shit. She headed back out to the main area. There must be another way out. A fire exit or something. She headed through the center of the library. Something slowly moved down one of the aisles, making Blake stop. Crouching, she slid the letter opener in her jeans pocket. She crawled on her hands and knees trying to get a better view.

Slowly, she pulled a book from the shelf and peered through the gap, coming face to face with Stu, the security guard. His body lay on the ground, lifeless, his head tilted to the side looking straight at her. Her breathing became louder, more ragged, threatening to give her away. Control. A gloved hand gripped her shoulder. Boo. Grabbing a book from the shelf, Blake lashed out, hitting somebody.

She didn't stay to see who. She ran, throwing books over her shoulder at an unseen pursuer. Blake ran back to the entrance, pounding on the glass. Let me out, she screamed. Enthusiastic clapping made her turn to see a figure sitting at the checkout counter, a hood obscuring their face. Wow, that was great. They pulled the hood down, revealing a young woman with short black hair.

I was surprised, the girl said, holding up a cell phone. You have an eclectic taste in music. The girl started swiping through the tracks on the phone as Blake stood watching. in shock. Some of it is good, but there's a lot of crap. She continued going through the songs. Crap, crap, crap. Ooh, she laughed. Barracuda, tossing the phone over her shoulder. What the fuck is going on?

Blake asked. Why didn't you meet me? The girl sounded hurt. I sent you chocolates. Would it have been so hard? I thought you were different than those others. Blake had seen this girl somewhere before. In the dorm or a class. Maybe they'd passed in the hallway. The girl looked at her genuinely hurt. You don't remember. First day, orientation? You sat down next to me and smiled.

We talked about how nervous we were. Or that time I tripped? You stopped when nobody else did. Helped me pick up my books. Asked me if I was okay. The girl sighed. I've loved you since I first saw you. That's why I got transferred to Mr. Sigmund's class, so I could be near you. You killed Billy? Because of me? Blake felt her head spin.

Like the song says, the problem with me is you. The girl jumped down from the counter. Billy wasn't the only one. As you saw, I killed that doofus security guard. Can't have him interrupting. She reached into her jacket and pulled out a keychain. Besides, I needed this. This was madness. Blake needed to get away. Get help. She felt her heartbeat faster. Felt it harder to breathe.

You think I'll just fall in love with you? Why not? You're the only one who ever noticed me. No one else has. They ignore me. Oh God, you insane bitch. I'm in love. Maybe... Maybe you are. Blake smiled. You did this all for me? She walked towards the girl. I don't even know your name. Terry. My name is Terry. That's a nice name.

Blake reached her hand out towards the girl. Her hand slid into her pocket, touching the hilt of the letter opener. Terry grabbed Blake's outstretched arm, pulling her along. Come on, I have one last gift for you. They stopped at the door to Old Man Stiles' office. What's behind door number one? Terry asked. Any guesses? Blake held the letter opener now concealed under her shirt sleeve.

What could this maniac be planning? No? All right. Terry sighed, a little disappointed. She opened the door to reveal a beaten Cassie lashed to Mr. Stiles' chair. Terry wheeled her out of the office. Oh, shit. Blake took a step back. What have you done? Nothing. But you're going to. See, she had to come snooping around, screw up everything. She gave Billy a pretty good screw before I killed him.

Cassie glared at the girl. A muffled fuck you could be heard through her gag. If you really, really love me, then you'll kill her like I killed for you. Terry pulled Stu's gun from her jacket and pushed the barrel against Cassie's temple With her other hand, she pulled a large knife out and tossed it onto the floor in front of Blake Two things can happen, Terry stated Pick up that knife and kill her, or I kill the both of you Blake shook her head in disbelief How would we get away with it?

Your fingerprints, my fingerprints, all over everything Simple. She did it. We'd be each other's alibi. She went nuts, killed Stu, fucked Billy, and then came after us. We killed her in self-defense. And we live happily ever after? More or less. Blake looked down at her best friend, then up at Terry, bending down as she picked up the knife and stood in front of her terrified friend.

Terry trained the gun on Blake. Don't try anything. Blake and Cassie locked eyes. Would you just kill the bitch already? Terry ordered. It's been a long night. Blake took a deep breath, finally in control. She pushed the chair into Terry with all her strength, knocking the girl down. The gun erupted as Terry fired. Blake fell on the girl. They struggled and the gun flew from Terry's hand.

The two fought for the knife until finally the knife found its way into Terry. Terry looked into Blake's eyes and smiled, blood staining her lips. She loves me. She loves me not, Terry lamented, touching Blake's face before letting out a groan and going limp. Blake used her last bit of strength to cut her friend free. You okay? she asked Cassie. Not really.

Cassie laughed, choking back tears. Fuck. Blake said, looking down at her side. An expanding red stain darkened her shirt. I've been shot. Hang on, I'll get help. Cassie ran into Stiles' office. Blake could hear her talking to 911. Blake leaned against a bookshelf, looking at Terry. Happy fucking Valentine's Day. Mmm, just makes me crave some of those fancy little chocolates. so before we get to this next story i want to mention real quick my dog chicano is doing very well he's going through his cancer treatment right now he's receiving chemotherapy and it is going well but it is incredibly expensive and with your help we've raised sixteen hundred dollars now the final total for all of his care is going to be about sixty eight hundred so i'm asking if If you can help in any way possible, I would appreciate it.

Go to weeklyspooky.com and click on help my dog. I really, really can't tell you what it means to me to see all the kind words along with the donations. Sincerely, any amount you can spare helps a lot. And I hate to ask, but what are friends for? But now it's time for a story about how love conquers all. After these quick words from our sponsors.

Love Conquers All by Joe Solmo Brian, put your dick back in your pants, Derek said as the two stood alone under the stars. The acres of alfalfa surrounded them on Derek's dad's farm. We got some drinking to do, he finished and put his hand on Brian's shoulder. Brian, having emptied his bladder, quickly zipped up and followed Derek back to the little campfire they had in a small clearing in the fields, where their friends, and more importantly, their dates, waited.

Somehow, he managed to get a date with Chelsea Hammer, and he was fully aware of her reputation, although it's been a few hours and she didn't seem all that promiscuous to him. Chad slammed a can of piss-warm beer into his chest as he cleared through the oats and alfalfa plants surrounding them. He smiled when Brian doubled over. Thanks, asshole, Brian said through clenched teeth.

He looked over at Chelsea to see she had noticed. She rolled her eyes at him. Great. Just great. Becca, you need another beer? Chad asked. And before she could answer, he tossed her one. she missed it and it landed on the fertile soil next to her too slow really bad reflexes chad said and laughed loudly chad maybe you should cool it eh derek said i'm usually the asshole here and if i notice you are how big of an asshole does that make you mind your own business dare i noticed that you're the only one that didn't bring no pussy to bang chad said in a slur.

Becca said in disgust. She stood up and crossed her arms. I want to go home. Oh, come on, babe. I didn't mean anything by it. Chad said and stumbled over to her trying to plant a kiss on her cheek. She avoided the contact and Chad fell down on his face, crushing the smaller alfalfa plants mixed with the oats. Chelsea, are you going to suck my dick tonight or what?

Brian asked her flat out. She had to know that's why he invited her out to Derek's family farm. What? Absolutely not, Chelsea said offended and stood up. She grabbed the towel she had been sitting on that the boys provided them and covered her shoulders from the cold fall air. Come on, Becca, I'll drive you home. This was a waste of time. Come back, Chad called out after them, but they disappeared into the field in the night.

man what we need is girls that'll do what we want chad said that's slavery jackass derrick said pouring his piss warm beer on the fire pit to put it out come on night's over come on man it's early yet not even like midnight chad complained i don't really feel like partying anymore this night sucked Brian chimed in Derek picked up the plastic handle on the cooler the cooler without ice and started to drag it down the path to the side road they'd made in his father's field so they could party out there undisturbed I brought the cooler why did I have to bring the ice too?

don't let those bitches ruin our night man it's their loss anyway you know what I'm packing in here? Chad asked grabbing his groin bitch probably would have choked anyway from the stench when's the last time you showered man you look like shit anyway Derek retorted as they reached the road all three of them watched as the girls drove off in Chelsea's dad's Dodge Ram Chad flipped them off I knew I should have insisted that I drove then she wouldn't have been able to leave Chad said to what end like seriously Brian said unlocking the Corolla his parents got him for graduating last year.

They told him he could use it to drive to college. They were so proud of him. All he'd done since was get drunk in fields and try to get laid. He wondered if they were still proud. He wasn't sure. Well, if they stayed with us and got to know us, Chad began. Let me cut you off there, Chad. The longer they were with us, the more they would have disliked us.

There ain't nothing to like about us. Can't you see that? There ain't no girls around here that would give us the time of day, Derek said. Now go home so I can crawl into bed and rub one out before I pass out. What are we supposed to do then? Go into the city and get hookers and catch one of those veterinary diseases?

Chad asked. Maybe we just conjure one up, Brian joked and shivered in the chill of the early November night air. Yeah, we can just dress a scarecrow up in women's clothes and take turns fucking her hay pussy, Chad said. Somehow it seems less demeaning than getting rejected by real girls all the time, Brian said. My dad catches us fucking one of his scarecrows and he'll beat my ass again, Derek shouted at them.

Again? Chad and Brian asked at the same time. Well, not for the same thing. Derek replied. Sure, Chad said. But you know, you might be on to something. I think they built a woman in that movie from the 80s. Why couldn't we do that? We don't have a computer, asshole. Brian chimed in as he got everything packed into the car. Can we go now?

They got one down at the library. I can ask old Pete about it. He's the smartest person I know. If anyone would know how to do it, it'd be him, Chad said in a eureka moment. Brian dismissed him and climbed into the car. Let's go! The next night. Two in the morning. Zero hour. Time to finish and go to sleep. Derek thought as he held his phone in one hand and his dick in the other.

He only dropped it twice on his face this time. They should make a headband that holds your phone for when you're watching porn, he thought, just as he finished into a dirty sock. He used the outside to wipe himself off a bit, and tossed it onto the floor of his dirty room in a satisfied sigh. It only felt like a few seconds before there was a weird sound from outside.

Perplexed, Derek rose out of bed and threw on a pair of sweatpants the dirty sock had landed on, ignoring the cold, wet spot He made his way to a window looking towards the seemingly endless fields his dad maintained What the fuck? He whispered and opened his window Chad and Brian were standing there Behind them was a wheelbarrow And... was that someone in it?

He couldn't quite make it out in the dark What are you guys doing here? Derek asked in an angry whisper Waiting for you to finish, Chad replied Took you long enough, how's your nose? You were watching me? Never mind, what do you want? Derek asked Meet us out in the field, we'll explain it all Chad said with a smile and grabbed the wooden handles on the wheelbarrow And took off into the field leaving an obvious trail This was why we always went in from the road Plausible deniability, Derek thought as his gaze went from a bewildered Brian to his room as he looked around for some clothes to wear.

You gonna follow him? In a second. I gotta shit. Mind if I come in? Brian asked. Don't wake my folks and hurry up. They met Chad in the clearing, waiting for them. He had a bunch of weird stuff laid out around them. What's all this? Derek asked. We gonna get laid tonight, Chad said. Brian agreed. Derek realized he could see his breath in the cold air and wished he'd brought a thicker jacket.

The plants were going to die tonight in the frost. He watched as Chad kept checking his phone and looking around the clearing, like he was reading a recipe and making sure he had all the parts. He placed a single rose to the left of the wheelbarrow and a black swan DVD to the right. You want to explain how? Derek asked. Chad went to see old Pete at the library and he explained it all to him apparently they looked up the particulars online but the printer was broke so Chad had to type it all into his phone remember how that girl from Milford broke his camera when he tried to get a pic of her peeing over there Brian explained as he pointed to the part of the field they all used to piss on nights like this yeah i remember uh stacy or something like that derrick said stacia anyway he got it all down and now we can do it brian said excitedly do what exactly he asked have a woman that'll want to have sex with us all the time chad chimed in you see it's real simple old pete said that what you need to do is summon something that likes to have sex and whammo, there you go.

You mean like a succubus? Derek asked. Oh no, Pete said that would be a mistake. He's done that before and it didn't end well at all. Did you know old Pete is only 32 years old? He looks 70. He said it was from a night with a succubus. He said to summon something nicer, like a love goddess, Chad said. And how do we do that?

Derek asked, getting annoyed at Chad. Well, we looked into it and found this old Greek book about their mythology and shit. It had these rituals where you would offer things to the gods and they would come and accept the gifts. Old Pete says all the gods are real. They pop into reality as long as one person believes in them. Chad finished as he removed the body from the wheelbarrow and placed it into the center of the figure he had drawn in the soil around them.

What is that? Derek asked. A vessel, Brian explained. Like a ship? No, like a host. The gods can't come to our world without a body to inhabit. I took one of your dad's old scarecrows from the cornfield over there, Chad said, pointing off into the distance guess we will be fucking a scarecrow after all brian said and laughed you don't believe any of this shit do you derek asked him brian always seemed like the most level-headed of them if it works great if not i had no better plans tonight anyway his friend explained with a hint of sadness and you're basing this all on what some old librarian told you derek asked them oh Pete isn't a librarian.

He lives behind the library, in the alley, Chad clarified. Sometimes he'll tell you about his crazy adventures for a 40. Crazy is right, Derek said. What do I have to do so this can fail and I can go back to bed? I knew you'd be into it, Chad said and handed him a grocery bag full of fall-colored leaves. He pointed at the scarecrow.

What am I doing with this? Derek wondered out loud. Stuff its bra, man. We want to give her big old titties, don't we? Chad said. Derek looked at Brian for a hint of reason to this night, but he just nodded his agreement, then made hand gestures of how big he would suggest. Shaking his head, Derek went over to the scarecrow and began to stuff its shirt.

Is this makeup? Where did you get makeup to put on my father's scarecrow? Your mom's room, Chad said and laughed. Brian laughed too. Even Derek grinned a little bit at the lame your mom joke. Okay, I think everything is where old Pete told me to set it up. All I gotta do is read the passage and we should summon a love goddess to pleasure us, Chad explained.

Remember to read it exactly as you wrote it down. Old Pete said that was the most important part. If we screw it up, we don't know what could happen, Brian said, adjusting the scarecrow a little bit to the left. I got it, Chad said. It's only a few sentences. I think I can handle it. From the depths of the other planes, from the space beyond mortal men, we call you forth with these gifts, symbols of your power and prowess.

We bring you forth, mother of love, passion, and beauty. We ask that you bestow your attributes on us. With this, a slight pause as Chad giggled. This alfalfa is scratchy, Brian said, pulling his leg away from the dying plant. In fact, all the plants around them were dying. It looks like a pale light was draining from them into the scarecrow. Come forth, Alfalfa-diety, Chad called out.

A distant boom was heard, and Chad turned towards his friends. Shit, what did I just say? You fucked up the name, you idiot, Brian said. I meant Aphrodite. You're the one who mentioned Alfalfa. So, what happens now, Brian asked. Think we're about to find out, Derek answered, as the scarecrow started to twitch on the ground. The face, a pumpkin with his mother's makeup on it, turned towards him.

Its drawn-on mouth somehow became animated and opened into a womanly scream. They all backed up to the edge of the clearing as they watched the thing stand up awkwardly. The hay wound its way through the sleeves and formed arms and hands, slender, delicate hands, the hands of a woman. The round pumpkin turned its head toward Chad. A wicked smile crossed its painted-on facial features.

A tongue licked around the lipstick that formed its mouth. It looked Chad up and down as it stepped towards him, seductively. Guys, I think it worked. Maybe not exactly as we planned it. He paused as he looked at the scarecrow love goddess approach him. I think we can make this work. Yeah, I got half a chub, Brian admitted and smiled nervously. You guys are fucking insane, Derek said.

This thing is not what you told me it was going to be. I want no part of this. To be fair, you didn't want part of it before, Chad said as it approached him. It reached out a slender arm towards his waist, pointing its haystack-wrapped finger. Oh yeah, baby, I know what you want, Chad said, and unzipped his pants. He pulled out what he always bragged to them was a fine example of USDA grade A man meat, but was in reality a micropenis.

You would think it would take the scarecrow love goddess some talent to find it in the cold night, but it didn't. It didn't take it long at all to shoot a haystalk straight up the hole in the micropenis, and it must have pushed some air out of him elsewhere as he simultaneously farted and screamed, the latter being louder, but not by much.

She's penetrating his pisshole, Brian said and tried to cross his legs while standing, which made him fall to the ground. That's some kinky shit I ain't into. Nobody's into that, Derek said and panicked. He definitely didn't want that for him. He grabbed the first thing he could find and charged toward the hay goddess of penis penetration. With a war cry that would make Vikings proud, he swung the object and struck it on the back.

It had little to no effect, other than to get her attention. It was a boring movie anyway, he said and tossed the DVD to the ground. A rope of hay slipped from her other hand and wrapped around his throat, choking him. You brought me here into existence to play. Let's play, the creature said in a seductive tone. I'm going to have to admit that voice is bringing back my chub, Brian said, getting to his feet.

If I see old Pete again, I'm going to punch that coot in the face, Chad said, pulling his hands away from his bloody groin. The distraction had made the goddess unpenetrate him. He panicked for a second, thinking she had ripped off what he had. But he sighed when he realized it was still there, just with a wider hole. Derek hobbled towards the goddess, who was holding Derek by the throat while digging in his jeans for something.

Fuck this. I'm out of here, Brian said and turned to leave. But, with her free hand, a tentacle made of straw shot towards Brian, ripping a hole into the back of his Walmart jeans. He screamed out, wishing he had paid the extra for Levi's. They probably would have held up better. Either way, he didn't have to worry much longer as the straw tentacle made its exit through all the holes in his body at the same time, impressively impaling his eyeballs that twitched in the pale moonlight.

It killed Brian! I would have bet he would be the one of us to survive something like this, Chad said, and stabbed his pocket knife into the pumpkin-headed hell bitch. She screamed out as pumpkin seed and pulp sprayed over Chad's face. It dropped Derek to the ground, who coughed and gasped for air. Oh shit, Chad said, backing away from it, grasping his micropenis with two hands protectively.

She circled him like a corn carnivore hunting its prey. He closed his eyes and fought back tears. All he wanted to do was get laid. He didn't want any of this shit. He felt the stalk touching his leg and working its way up him with a gentle touch. A womanly touch. You don't want to play with me anymore? The seductive voice asked, playfully.

No, please, just go back. We didn't know what we were doing. Chad cried out as it circled behind him. Have you no desire to win my heart anymore? You created me in the ritual. You gave me a name, and therefore power. I was nothing until you named me Alfalfa Dite. What did you expect? A love goddess? You created me by mistake. I am a mistake.

You wanted me to do whatever your heart desired. And now, you have no desire for my heart. Chad whimpered. Derek stood up, leaning on the wheelbarrow, and looked at his friend. This can't be real. He's either having the weirdest wet dream of his life, or he took a ton of great drugs without knowing it. He rubbed his neck and cleared his throat.

You don't want my heart. I refuse yours. The monster sent a straw tentacle through Chad's chest from behind, impaling his heart and shooting it out his chest towards his friend. The heart landed in Derek's hand as he was removing it from his throat. He shrieked when he realized what it was and dropped it to the ground, next to a can of hairspray that must have been part of the ritual.

He grabbed for the can as his friend's lifeless body hit the cold earth just feet in front of him. Derek got to his knees and reached into his pocket, pulling out his bowl and lighter. He tossed the bowl down and faced the creature as it approached him in that sexy walk with stocks for heels. I don't want nothing from you, Derek called out.

Leave me be. Derek, it was part of you that summoned me here. We have the strongest bond, she said as she pointed to a familiar object on the ground. His spank sock. God damn it, Brian. Take a shit my ass. He stole my spank sock. He raised the can of hairspray and held it up to his lighter. With a flick and a press, a fireball shot into the face of the scarecrow fuckbuddy gone wrong and sent it reeling back with a scream.

He stepped forward over the spank sock and sent another fireball into the scarecrow, this time aiming it at its flammable shirt and straw instead of its pumpkin face. Stop, the voluptuous voice called out to him. You don't understand. I had to get rid of them so that we could be alone. It was your magic that summoned me, she said, looking at the sock and trying to brush out the straw that was on fire.

Magic? Derek asked, watching her every move. Years of your reproductive magic The potency It's very strong magic She said, taking a step towards him He noticed her leaves had burned away No more breasts for her No, this can't be I don't want this, Chad did Derek said Do not reject me again She said and wrapped his leg with straw Pulling him to the ground She mounted him.

I will not be as gentle next time. Derek managed to get the can and lighter between the two of them and let loose with another blast, this one point blank. He felt the heat probably just as much as she did and screamed to match hers. He continued as long as he could until she got up from him. He rubbed his chest where he had been burned himself and found his shirt burned into his flesh.

The creature wasn't doing much better as it ran around, now engulfed in flames. He ran towards it and planted the can of hairspray in its flat chest, burning his hand in the process, and backed away, wrapping his burned-up hand in his spank sock. Don't leave me. I was created so we would be together. She called to him, wrapping him in her smoldering straw tentacles.

He turned to face her, a tear running down his cheek. He was going to die. There was no escape. Just then, the can of hairspray exploded, sending the torso flying in all directions. The pumpkin head fell to the ground, cracking open and spilling the insides onto the ground. The tentacles fell away from Derek, and he dropped to his knees, looking at the carnage.

He heard something coming through the field towards him. Oh God, could this be another one? How many more are there, he thought. A second later, his father entered the clearing with a shotgun in his hand. God damn it, Derek! I thought there was some hooligans out here fucking around! It's just you banging another scarecrow. I am gonna whoop your ass! Did you...

did you use your mother's makeup on that thing? Derek closed his eyes, wishing the thing had finished him off like it did his friends. Are you feeling it? The romance in the air? Well, there's definitely a certain copper smell in the air. But I'd like to think that's love because, you know, hearts mean love and hearts are full of blood. So, in a way, blood means love.

Now, that may have been a stretch, but you know what's an even bigger stretch? Going on a blind date and hoping for the best. And this story, from the earliest days of Weekly Spooky, is all about a blind date. And we'll get to it after these words. The Blind Date by Joe Sondra Cassandra wasn't like most teen girls. She didn't enjoy the same things that the other girls in school did.

She didn't chase after boys or dress in the latest fashions. it was a rare sight to see Cassandra wearing makeup on a day other than Halloween. That was the only holiday that Cassandra cared about. She felt that was the only night she could actually be herself. She loved reading gothic horror, curled up in her bed. Her bookshelf was lined with the classics, Dracula, Frankenstein, and Dr.

Jekyll, to name a few. The newer romantic takes on the classics made her feel sick and angry. They were taking her beloved stories and twisting them to attract the same people she loathed and escaped into the books to get away from. Cassandra had one person she really would call a friend. A girl two years older than her started talking to her in lunch one day.

Betty was her name. She dressed in all black clothes and dyed her hair as black as she could. Cassandra adopted her look almost instantly. They shared a lot of the same interests. The only difference between the two was that Betty was interested in the opposite sex. She occasionally had a boyfriend, and the time the two friends shared sometimes was strained. But Cassandra really didn't worry.

She would just dive into a book until Betty and her boyfriend were broken up a week later. Betty had a volatile temperament, especially with her boyfriends. None of her relationships lasted a month. One time she came over to Cassandra's house with a black eye. Her boyfriend at the time, Randy, punched her in the face. Betty said she cut Randy with a switchblade she carried at all times.

Randy lived a few towns over, so Cassandra never met him or saw him to verify the story. Come on, Cassandra, a boyfriend might do you some good, Betty chided one time. She laughed it off at the time, but truthfully, sometimes she did think about it. Having someone to share her dreams with, other than Betty, wouldn't be so bad, she told herself. After almost a year of joking around, Betty started to get insistent, especially after meeting her newest boyfriend, Brandon.

She had met Brandon on a new goth dating site. Cassandra warned her against it, but Betty argued that the site screens all the people on there. On their first date, Cassandra followed them, just in case. But everything went well. Cassandra, come on, just make a profile Then you can see who's on there You never know, maybe your future husband is on there Betty said, applying her black lipstick in Cassandra's vanity mirror She had a date with Brandon later that evening And was getting ready at Cassandra's house Because she could borrow her clothes Maybe it's not a husband you're after They have women too, Betty said with a laugh And playfully tossed the lipstick at her friend Oh stop, Cassandra said back Well, what are you?

Asexual? Betty asked. I just think getting a boyfriend is more trouble than it's worth. I don't need some asshole calling me when I have 50 pages left of my favorite book, Cassandra said as she pulled a black lacy dress from her closet. Here, wear this one. It'll make you look slutty. Brandon'll love it. I wouldn't want to lead him on, Betty said.

They both looked at each other and smiles crept onto their faces. They both burst out with laughter. It wasn't like Betty slept around, but if the mood struck her, then she wouldn't be shy with her boyfriend. It was cool for the guys to sleep with any girl they could, but if the kids at school saw Betty doing it, they would call her a slut.

That was probably why Betty dated boys from out of town, Cassandra thought. Betty's phone dinged with a text message, and Cassandra used that interruption to check her hair in the mirror. It was time to dye her roots again. She would have to run out to the drugstore. She heard Betty laugh and looked at her friend. What's so funny? Cassandra asked. Brandon, he's so funny.

He asked me if you should bring condoms, Betty replied. You guys have only been dating for like two weeks. Jesus, Cassandra said. Yeah, but he's been real good to me so far. He deserves a treat, Betty said in a playful voice and slapped her own ass. You're too much, Cassandra said with a smile and a roll of her eyes. A short time later after Betty left, Cassandra sat in her room with a copy of In a Glass Darkly.

It was the seventh time she'd read the collection of short stories by Sheridan Le Fanu. Her eyes kept drifting from the written word to her laptop Betty had left open on the end of her bed. After the third time, she sighed and put her book down. She typed in the web address for the gothic single site Betty had used to find Brandon.

I'll only look for fun and to shut Betty up, she thought as she began to make a profile. She took a selfie with her cell phone and uploaded it. Once that was done, she browsed through a few men's profiles, looking superficially at them. She grew bored a few minutes later and put her phone down. She looked back towards her book, but she wasn't in the mood.

So she popped in the DVD of Ginger Snaps, her favorite werewolf movie. After a few minutes, a ding came from her phone. Uh, Betty, she said, picking up her phone, but saw it wasn't a text message at all. It was a notification from the goth dating website. Someone had viewed her profile and wanted to chat. She didn't know what to do. She couldn't actually talk to a guy, could she?

Even over the internet, she wasn't sure she would have the confidence enough to talk to someone in that manner. She tapped her finger on the thumbnail image to open his profile, but it instead opened the chat window. Fuck, she said as she saw the mystery guy was typing. She looked at the enlarged photo of him. He had shoulder-length black hair. He wore a black leather jacket in his picture.

She looked at the name attached to the profile. Jeremy, 19. He was cute, she had to admit. As she scrolled through his information. Ba-ding! A new message from Jeremy. She tapped on the notification. Hi there, I'm Jeremy and I love reading horror. I listened to goth music and just graduated. You look real pretty in your profile picture. Even though he wasn't there in person, she blushed anyway.

No one had ever called her pretty before. Well, except for Betty. But that didn't count. Even her own parents that mostly left her alone never complimented her on anything. What should I say? She whispered out loud as she looked at her phone. She began to type a message, then deleted it. After a few tries, she finally got out what she wanted to say.

Sort of. Thanks, you're pretty too. I love horror. She looked back at her message after hitting send. Oh, goddammit. she exclaimed. You're pretty too? What the fuck is wrong with me? She saw that he was typing back to her and she cringed, imagining his response to her. She knew that she wasn't ready to chat with a guy. She wasn't cool like Betty.

She wished her friend was there now to tell her what to say. She would probably tell her to send a pic of her boobs. Um, thanks. What kind of music do you listen to? Well, that wasn't as bad as she thought. He just thanked her. She thought about what to say back. Mostly local music. Have you ever been to the freezer? She asked.

It was a local club that she'd been to. One of Betty's old boyfriends had a band and they went there a few times. Some of the bands she actually enjoyed, except for Betty's boyfriends. They were terrible. The club over on 34th? I'm there right now. Chum Trail is playing tonight. They start in a half an hour. You should come out. She hadn't heard of a band called Chum Trail.

She thought about it, but she'd never been there without Betty. She wasn't sure she could do it. She quickly texted her friend to get some advice. Are you coming? Jeremy messaged her. She waited a few more seconds. Come on, Betty, you twat. Message me back, she said to her phone. A minute passed and still nothing. Hello? She felt bad for not messaging Jeremy back, but she was indecisive.

She wasn't the outgoing person Betty was, and sometimes she was content just to follow in the wake of her friend. She sighed as she looked at her phone laying on the black comforter on her bed. Finally, she couldn't stand it anymore and picked up her phone. She opened the messaging app and started to type to Jeremy that she couldn't make it tonight, but some other time.

But she only got two letters typed before she received a text message from Betty. WTF, go! I knew she would say that, Cassandra said and let out a breath. She didn't realize she was holding. Okay. She typed it to Jeremy and flinched when she hit send. She could always not go and say something came up anyway. Sweet, I'll be outside waiting for you.

Ah, shit. Now she had to go. She jumped off the bed and looked into the closet her and Betty had destroyed earlier to dress Betty up. Now it was her turn. Although she was very apprehensive about going, she had to admit she was excited as well. She fixed her hair in the mirror quick and then put on the black lipstick that Betty had borrowed earlier.

Ten minutes later, found Cassandra jumping into her beat-up 1990 Dodge Omni. Her mom passed her in the doorway and didn't even ask where she was going. It was for the best anyway. She didn't want to have to explain. B-ding! She looked down at her phone and saw she had a text message from Betty. She looked at it as she buckled her seatbelt.

Are you going, bitch? She smiled and texted back. Yes, what the hell? She put her car into reverse and backed out into the road. She headed down the street, towards the club. B-ding! She waited until she reached a red light before checking her phone. It was another text from Betty. You go, slut! Cassandra rolled her eyes and smiled. She tucked her phone away before continuing down the street.

A few minutes later, she pulled up alongside the curb on 34th Street. She had to park three blocks from the club. It must be crowded tonight, she thought. She exited her car and straightened the black camisole she was wearing. She made sure her skirt was in order before heading down the street, towards the freezer. When she got closer, she noticed a line of people waiting to get into the club.

Any one of those could be Jeremy. She wondered if she could recognize him from his picture. It was probably some middle-aged pedophile, she joked to herself as she crossed the last street to reach the club. There was no doubt which one was Jeremy. She could pick him out easily enough. He looked just like his picture. Exactly. In fact, he was wearing the same outfit.

I wonder if he only has one pair of clothes, she thought jokingly. He recognized her just as fast. He left his place in line to approach her with a smile on his face. Cassandra, you made it, he said. Yeah, at least for a little while. My friend said she might need me later. She lied, so she would have an out later if she needed it.

Cool, he said. Hopefully you can stay for Chum Trail. Sorry you had to lose your place in line, she said, pointing to the people lined up around the corner. It's okay. I'd rather wait longer hanging around with you than go in there alone. Honestly, I didn't think I'd meet anyone on that app. I just made my profile tonight, actually, just before leaving the house.

I was bored standing in line here, so I started looking at profiles and I saw yours, he said. So, do you own more than one set of clothes? She asked with a smile. Sure do. I have at least three shirts, Jeremy said as they turned the corner. There wasn't that many more people around the corner. It wouldn't be that long of a wait anyway.

They chatted as they waited to get in. The line moved slowly but steadily until they were at the door. The doorman didn't check their ID, just asked for the $5 cover charge for entry. The place was a dump. The walls were all spray-painted black, and there were holes in the floor that had plywood nailed down over them, making a tripping hazard just as bad as the hole originally was.

Death metal music blared from the PA as opening bands started to set up their gear on the small-raised stage. They made their way over to the bar and got some cheap draft beer, then found a spot to talk while they waited for the music to start. A blonde-haired guy pushed past them with a guitar case, then turned towards Jeremy with recognition. Jeremy!

Glad you could make it, man! We go on second, he said. Jeremy shook the guy's hand and patted him on the back before turning back towards Cassandra. My friend's band is playing, he said. So, tell me something. Why is a pretty girl like you looking on the internet for dates? He asked. Cassandra put her head down, covering her face with her hair to hide the blushing.

She didn't even know how to respond to the compliment. Her mind was momentarily blank, so she hid the fact by taking a drink from her beer. It gave her the extra time she needed to formulate a response. I got on there because of my friend Betty. She kind of bullied me into it. She said I needed to find myself a boyfriend, she said.

Well, let's not get ahead of ourselves, he said smiling. One day at a time, she said, holding up her drink. They both laughed at her corny Alcoholics Anonymous joke. She had left her phone on Vibrate in her pocket, so she pulled it out and saw she had a few messages from Betty. Jeremy looked at her as she looked at her phone. Betty, she's on a date tonight, but is asking me how mine is going, she explained.

So this is a date, Jeremy asked. Oh my god, I didn't mean to presume, she started to say, but he interrupted her. Relax, I'm just messing with you, he said. She let out a sigh and visibly relaxed. Are you okay, he asked. Yeah, I'm fine, she turned towards the stage. What do you know about the first band, she asked. They spent the rest of the evening making idle chit-chat between bands and enjoying the music.

She had to admit she was having a good time. Betty texted her regularly asking how the date was going throughout the evening. When Chum Trail hit the stage, they moved up as close as they could. Jeremy knew the words to all the songs. By the end of the night, Cassandra was pretty exhausted, but every time Jeremy spoke, it re-energized her for just a little longer.

They walked down the street in the cool night air towards her car. Her ears rang from the loud music. Well, here we are, she said, pointing to her car. That thing still runs, he asked. Hey, don't knock Roger, she said. Roger? Don't ask, she said smiling. Are you really gonna leave? He asked. Well, the concert's over, she said. What else is there to do?

Well, we could ride over to Johnson Field and walk amongst the trees, Jeremy said. Just walk? She asked. Yeah, just a nice midnight stroll through the park. Unless you want to walk through the cemetery across the street from there, he asked. Let's start with the park. Meet you there, she said, digging her keys out of her purse. You can drive, I trust you.

You only had one beer, he said, opening the passenger door of her Dodge. That's because I'm only 17, she exclaimed. Jeremy laughed as he climbed inside. Come on, let's go, he said, closing the door. Cassandra ran to the front of the car and jumped inside. The old engine fired right up and they headed towards Johnson's Field. When they arrived, there were several other cars there.

Other couples came out to the park for a private moment or two. I wouldn't be surprised if Betty was there, she thought. It looks crowded in there, she said. Let's go over to the graveyard then. I'm sure it's much more romantic, Jeremy said. Cassandra shivered in the cold night air. Are you cold? Here, he said, pulling off his jacket and handing it to her.

Won't you be cold? she asked. He shook his head no and took her hand in his. It was the first time he touched her all night. She was so startled she almost pulled away, but after a few seconds she relaxed and realized she enjoyed his touch. His hand was warm and rough like a carpenter's hand. They crossed the street and hopped the fence into the graveyard landing in the cool dew that layered the grass.

The light from the streetlights didn't penetrate very far into the graveyard. They clambered their way to a path and followed it in deeper. Near the middle of the cemetery was a big circle of grass with a memorial statue to the town's founder. Three discolored stone benches surrounded the statue. They sat down on a cold stone in silence for a few moments before Jeremy spoke.

From here you can see the stars, he said, looking up into the night sky. You can almost forget you're in a city. It's nice. Well, other than all the dead people, she said with a sly smile. Oh, they won't bother you, mostly, he said and laughed. Cassandra laughed too and pulled her phone out of her purse. She looked at the time, 1218.

You don't need your phone out here. Here we can get away from the technology just for a little while. We can have a person-to-person conversation, he said, facing her. I just wanted to see what time it is, she said, putting it back into her purse. He smiled at her. I didn't mean to sound abrasive. I apologize, he said, and put out his hand to shake.

She took it, and they shook. How weird, she said. That's me, he replied and stood up. Gotta take a whiz, he said, and walked a little way into the darkness around the back of the statue. She stood up from the bench and wrapped her arms around herself and shivered. The jacket helped her upper arms, but her bare legs had goosebumps. She questioned why she was out in the middle of the night with a strange boy she met online sitting in a cemetery.

She looked towards the statue towering over her in the faint light from the street. There were words carved into the stone plaque just below the man's feet. She traced her fingers over the letters before stepping back to read them. Abraham Buchanan, founding member, shot seven times, and still fought for his country. 1735 to 1794, died peacefully in his sleep. Cassandra vaguely remembered the story of their town's founding.

They drilled it into your head in elementary school, but she hadn't thought of the guy in years. She remembered he survived being shot seven times in a battle, but persevered. That was part of the town's motto. Persevere through strife. Jeremy, she called out into the darkness. Are you still there? Yes, I'm here, he said as he emerged from the darkness. He had his thumbs hooked into the belt loops of his jeans.

Oh, I wasn't pissing, he said, stepping closer to her. The hair on the back of her neck began to stand up. She didn't know why, but she was getting a sinking feeling in her stomach. What the hell were you doing then, she asked. I had to make arrangements, he said, reaching behind his back. Arrangements? Listen, Jeremy, it was real nice meeting you, but I think it's time I went home, She said, taking a step back from him.

He paced her, taking another step forward. She took off his jacket and held it out at arm's length. Here's your jacket. Jeremy just stood there with his hand behind his back, making no move to take his jacket. Don't leave now, Cassandra. It's almost time, he said. No, I have to go, she said, and dropped the jacket onto the worn cemetery path. I have to go home, she said, and stepped back another step.

You are home, Cassandra, he said and pulled a knife from behind his back The blade was curved about 15 inches long Cassandra turned to run away, but Jeremy was quicker He wrapped his arm around her neck and pulled her close to him Why would you want to leave? It's so peaceful here Come on and meet the family, he said, dragging her back to the statue He dropped her on the ground in front of the plaque.

Look on that phone of yours and tell me what time it is. It has to be close, he said. Close to what, she asked, her eyes widening in horror. The time I died, of course, Jeremy explained and stepped closer to her. What, she asked. I only took three bullets, not seven like old Abe here. Do you know the story of Abe? let me tell you what the school didn't.

Abe was shot seven times by British soldiers in the Battle of Saratoga in 1777. They dragged him back behind the front lines and left him to die, which he should have and would have if something didn't intervene. Old Abe prayed to God to save him. He wanted to see his children grow up. He wanted to see his grandchildren. He had a wife and a mistress back home, he wasn't ready to leave this world.

It wasn't God who answered him, though, Jeremy said, sitting on the bench within reach of Cassandra. A being came to Abe and told him they could save him. He wanted to live for selfish reasons, so God didn't answer, but a demon did. It promised him a freebie, a full recovery, if it brought the demon three souls every seven years. Abe quickly agreed, he explained, and pulled Cassandra's face up to look into her eyes.

Are you getting all this? There will be a quiz, he said and let go. Please, I don't know what you're talking about. Just let me go. I won't tell anyone, I swear, she said as a tear dripped down her cheek. He wiped it away with his finger, which was warm to the touch. Don't cry, sweetheart. There's no reason to. Crying is useless.

Now back to the story. Abe lived till 1794 as far as anyone knows. That's when his actual life ended. But his deal went on. After his body died, he was allowed to continue to bring souls to the demon. And in return, he could wander the land of the living a little longer. Well, one night in 1988, I just happened to be sitting on this bench here with some friends drinking.

A man stepped out of the darkness and asked us for our wallets, he said with a smile. He stood and turned around in a circle, taking in the night. It was right here, at 1248, that I was shot for not giving him my wallet. My friends all ran and got away, but I laid here, in a pool of my own blood, with three bullets in me.

I looked up at that statue of Abe there and wondered how he could live through seven bullets when I was going to die from only three. he scoffed. Kinda silly, I know. Cassandra looked at her phone. It said 1243. She started to text Betty. Oh no, we wouldn't want your friend to ruin the party. You see, Abe came to me that night and offered me the same deal he had.

And you're my third date this week, he said, swiping the phone from her hands. I can't believe how small these things have gotten over the years. Please, she he begged. I won't tell anyone. I'll just go home. I'm sorry. That isn't going to work. I need you, Cassandra. And isn't it romantic? A great night spent together. That's the best part of this job.

I get to meet lots of chicks, he said. Just then, there was a small rumble in the ground, and a faint red light started to illuminate the statue. Fissures of smoke rose from the cracks in the ground. He's almost here to take his third soul. I'm gonna need you to lay down on this bench, Jeremy said. Fuck you, she said in defiance.

He struck her with the pommel of the knife he'd held in his hand. What a mouth on you. I like your spunk, he said and pulled her onto the bench. He sat on her chest and undid the laces on her knee-high boots. He tied her legs to the stone bench. This is ridiculous, she said, trying to struggle as he tied her hands under the bench behind her back.

The rumbling grew louder and she felt the bench shaking just a bit. Let me go right the fuck now, she called out. Or what? Are you going to untie yourself and escape? It's never happened. Oh, I know. You could try screaming. They usually try that, but it's not going to work, he said, standing back and looking at his handiwork. Cassandra kicked, trying to loosen her restraints, but they were too tight.

She called out into the night, help, help. Jeremy smacked her again. I really like it when they struggle, but the voices are pretty annoying, he said and giggled. The rumbling climaxed as a ghostly figure floated out front of the statue. Oh, Abe, look at this one. 100% virgin. Really, it should count as two, Jeremy said to the ghost. Please, God, don't let me die, she begged.

God doesn't listen, child, Abraham said in a gravely spectral voice. He floated over to her and bent down near her face. Cassandra could see through Abraham. His transparent body had a reddish hue but was definitely not solid. Please, she said. There's no escape for you, I'm afraid. I am a selfish man, and I need you. The specter said. And I need you too, Jeremy said to her.

Is it time? he asked the specter. It is time. The ghost of Abraham said, and backed away a few feet from Cassandra. Okay, baby, your time is up, Jeremy said and approached her, putting the knife just above her heart. She struggled harder, but she couldn't get any momentum going. The shoelaces were just too tight. She screamed out. He raised the knife above his head and looked down at Cassandra.

Here's to seven more years, he said, and plunged the knife into her chest. The last thing she saw as the world turned black was the fury on Jeremy's face. But the betrayal from the first guy she ever dated hurt more. than that wound in her chest. Honestly, when I hang out on Reddit, I hear much worse stories about first dates, so take that for what you will.

Now, before we get to this next story, I want to point out that if you want to support the show directly and get a bonus episode every single month, as well as other bonus podcasts and behind-the-scenes content, Just go to weeklyspooky.com and click on Patreon. For as little as $1 a month, you get everything I just described and so much more. But now it's time for a story that's a bit of a different take.

This one, I really enjoy. It's strangely arousing, if you will. And we'll get to it after these words from our sponsors. A Sunken Heart in Hino Bay by Jeff Carpenter All life emerged, crawled out from the sea. Now, I don't know what's crawling out. Hino Bay High School Science Biology Class, Monday, 2.43pm Ayumi scribbles into her notebook, hunched over her desk, protecting her work.

Her eyes are obscured by black horn rims matching her long jet black hair tied into a ponytail. Are you like in grade three? A girl beside her with dyed brown hair grabs the notebook off Ayumi's desk. The pen leaves a streak across the page. She turns to the second girl and shows her the notebook. The second girl makes a sour face, gesturing dismissively at the drawings in a lined notebook page.

Cartoons. A girl sunbathing in a boat reading a book. and below her a myriad of sea creatures frolicking in the deep, an octopus and crab feasting on something. The girl points at a figure farther down the page, a masked scuba diver rising to the surface holding something in his hand. Oh my god, is that Mr. Harada? What is that in his hand?

What has he got? A pearl? A present? For you? She and her friend laugh at the suggestion. Ayumi tries to grab it. Give it back. He'd only kiss you if you had gills and a tail. She already smells like she does. Give it back. There's a crack at the front of the class. The students' heads turn to the front. The teacher rests his hand on a book atop some scattered papers on his desk.

Ayumi, please see me after class. Ooh. The two girlfriends coo in chorus. Ayumi holds a stack of textbooks and crossed arms close to her chest. I'm not sure what's come over you. You were disturbing the class today, and you haven't handed in your assignment yet. Usually you're a very well-behaved punctual student. What's gotten into you? She can't meet his eyes. Tomorrow, Mr.

Harada. Tomorrow. Ayumi's Household, Monday, 6.49pm. The melted chocolate cools in the bowl on the double boiler On the counter beside the stove are a box of sea salt A jar of raspberry jam A bowl of herring roe A collection of spoons And heart-shaped molds Ayumi's grandfather walks up behind her Looking over her shoulder Surprises her For a boy? It's good you take an interest in normal school life Outside of the tales you read in your books It's good you spend time with people your own age Dead authors and old men like me are not ideal companions for young girls.

Ayumi ignores her grandfather and increases her focus on spooning the jam into the cooled chocolate molds. With intense deliberation, she plucks two individual eggs from the herring row and placing them side by side in the raspberry jam. Squishing them together in the gooey jam, they leak their briny golden insides into the surrounding compote. She sprinkles a pinch of sea salt into the molds, finishing her creation with a flourish.

Could I have a taste of that chocolate, though? Reminds me of your grandmother. Tuesday, Valentine's Day, 1.56pm. A girl bumps into a Yumi in the hall. She drops her books and makes a desperate grab as the red cardboard box folded into the shape of a clamshell slips from her fingers. As she bends over to pick them up, she notices a boy, a strong athletic boy from her gym class, looking at her with a kind of faint smile she hasn't seen before.

And she sees that her skirt is riding up high on her legs. She straightens up and pulls her skirt down. The boy still has the funny look on his face, and he looks weak somehow, as if all his strength has leaked away. Just by looking at her, she feels flushed and rushes to class. What's this? Mr. Harada flips the cardboard clamshell open on his desk, revealing the chocolates within.

Ayumi looks at the Valentine's Day present on display, one of the heart chocolates cracked from the fall. It's for... it's for you. Ayumi, I can't accept this. You know it is inappropriate for a student to offer such gifts to her teacher. I'm sorry, it looks like you put a lot of work into this gift, but I just can't. Ayumi hugs her books tight and shuffles to her seat.

Otani, the grizzled old janitor, totters into the classroom and empties the waste paper basket by the teacher's desk. He winks at the gang of girls huddled together, gossiping and giggling. One of the girls with dyed brown hair leans over to Ayumi and hisses at her. If you want an older man, I'm pretty sure Mr. Otani is available. But better act quick before one of us snatches him up first.

The huddle of girls convulses with laughter as Otani staggers out the door. Ayumi looks up from her book and over at Mr. Harada's desk. From her vantage point, she can see that one of the chocolates is missing. There is a space there. It is undeniable. Did she just see Mr. Harada lick his lips? Did he really? Ayumi watches intently, her elbows on her desk, chin resting on her knuckles, and rapt attention.

My last dive, I saw definite changes. The outflow from these chemical plants is causing untold damage to the ecosystem. I'm finding noticeable mutations in the local sea life. Overlong exposure to this pollution is ravaging local populations. I've decided to devote my time recording and cataloging these mutations. We have to do something to change this. We all have to do something. What I'm doing is cataloging the mutations.

He plops a Ziploc bag holding a fist-sized thing enveloped in gelatinous syrup on the desk. It is a creature curled into a fetal ball. Two appendages pierce the syrupy envelope, terminating its claws. Know what this is? No guesses. It's a fish. Does it look like a fish to you? The students shake their heads. I don't think so. I found this swimming off the breakwater in Hino Bay.

Well, it was trying to swim, more like paddling in a circle. Those, those bastards, excuse me, those blameless industrialists in the plant on the shore. They've turned Hino Bay into a living science experiment. All life emerged. It crawled out of the sea. Now I don't know what's crawling out. He turns back to the specimen. This is the caudal fin, the tail of the so-called fish.

An iridescent turquoise caudal fin unfurls in the swirling sea-green water. It swishes to and fro, back and forth, lazily propelling the creature upward. Breaking the surface, she notices that the creature is her. She is the creature, her bare human body above the water, her scaly torso and tapered tail beneath the waves, trailing off into the darkness and the murky depths below. Her long black hair flows out behind her, slowly undulating in the motion of the ripples.

She feels the water rise in a soft swell, and he is there, beside her in the black rubber wetsuit. A gentle wave pushes them closer together. He pulls off his face mask and removes the regulator from his mouth. He presses it against her lips. Breathe, breathe, he urges. She opens her mouth, letting him inside her, and breathes in, breathes deep, and she feels herself going down, down into unconsciousness.

Ayumi opens her eyes, she smiles, and squeezes the pillow tight to her body. Wednesday, 3.02pm The daughter of the Dragon King was Ningyo, Princess of the Deep. She could assume various forms and would often take the form of a beautiful woman who could put any man who ventured into the sea under her spell. Ayumi stands at the front of the class. Her magic pearls could turn...

Ayumi, the assignment was supposed to be about sea life. Real, actual sea life. dragons don't exist why would you what made you do your assignment on that i'm going to be forced to give you an f please see me after class ayumi tries to hold back a faint smile he slumps back in his chair pulls off his tie loosens his collar unbuttons the bottom button on his shirt he leans forward she can see down his open shirt there are iridescent scales catching the light on his neck spreading out and down to his chest.

Mr. Harada? Yes, Ayumi? Do you think people can change? She pivots on her legs, twisting back and forth. Yes, of course. Change into something so wonderful, so strange that you don't know what they might become? What are you talking about? Kiss me. Mr. Harada stared at her. Kiss me. Why couldn't she say it out loud? Her lips strain white against her teeth.

She bites her lower lip until she is sure blood will pop and trickle down her chin. She drops a potty training manual on the teacher's desk. What's this? I'm going to get my diving certificate. Really? It's an intensive course. You sure it won't interfere with your school studies? No, sir. I always think of you with your nose in the books, not outside getting your hands dirty.

He gives her an approving smile. Always think of you. Always think of you. Always. You. It's kind of late in the year to undertake such a big thing like this, don't you think? She takes off her glasses and twirls them in her fingers. She looks straight at Harada. I dreamed that we were swimming together last night, and you swam up to me and looked deep into my eyes and said, You are the queen of the sea and the sea is the mother of life.

All life. And you held me close and you put your lips on, Ayumi, this isn't appropriate. You're my student and I'm your teacher. I want you to teach me real things, not the things I can get from books on my own. Spending so much time in the water maybe is not such a good idea. But we have to. I'll grow scales. We'll both be as free as the fishes.

We'll change into them. We'll be living in the ocean as sea creatures forever. You must never, never speak about this again to anyone. Do you understand? Ayumi jams her lips shut and looks at the floor. Ayumi, please let me go swimming with you. Silence. I promise not to talk about these things again. I'll think about it. Ayumi's household, Thursday, 6.45pm. Ayumi takes book after book from her bookcase and puts them down beside the others on her bed.

She flips through them, smiles a faint smile, then with the reverence of a funeral, places them in a large cardboard box marked with a black pen on the side. 500 yen each. Hino Bay Recreation Center, 10.54am. Ayumi plunges into the swimming pool. The weight belt sinks her to the bottom. The instructor gives her the thumbs up, then turns and ignores her, just like he did after she gave him the money from selling all her favorite books.

She looks around, surrounded by water. Everyone else is so far away. She is alone. If anything went wrong... She closes her eyes. Her heart pounds in her head. Blood rushes in her ears. She hyperventilates. Her eyes are big. She's going to drown down here. She sucks in water with her air. She sputters and coughs, blinded by bubbles escaping from her mouth. She drops her weights and scrambles to the surface.

The diving instructor swims over to her. You panicked. He hands Ayumi her weight belt. This time, breathe slow. Breathe deep. Keep calm. Relax. Nothing's going to get you. Sometimes it helps to tell yourself a story to keep your mind focused. Hinobay High School, Monday, 2pm. Ayumi wears a gold badge embroidered on her jacket. She carries a certificate between her stack of textbooks.

She wears a big smile on her face as she walks straight to the science classroom. She takes her seat. A strange woman is at the front desk. Her smile fades. She raises her hand. Where is Mr. Harada? He is on indefinite leave. My name is Mrs. Kotani, and I'm the replacement teacher for this class. Hino Bay, Breakwater. Tuesday, 2.43pm. Shouldn't you be in school?

Teacher's not here today. A taxi idles, parked but running in a slot by the seawall. Ayumi struggles with the air tank as she pulls them up out of the trunk. You need a hand with that, miss? Just a couple of trips. She hauls the gear down to the breakwater. Swim fins, mask under her arms, oxygen tank hanging off of one shoulder. The dive tank slips off her shoulder, bangs off her hip bone, bounces off and rebounds into her legs, giving a dull blow to her knee and shin.

She cries out, stumbles, and drops the tank, which rolls on the ground. You alone? She turns back to look at him. Miss? You alone? I heard it's not good to dive all by yourself. Oh, I've got someone. The black shape is gone. She can't see him anymore. She puts the regulator in her mouth and ducks under the water. It's cold and dark.

She breathes in, but short and shallow. She coughs. She has to come up for air. She spits out salty seawater and scans the horizon again. Nothing. She's going to have to go out there. her heart pounds beneath her wetsuit this is it she clears her mask and goes under she swims in slow steady strokes she can't help feeling she's being shadowed by something not so far below her but she fights the enshrouding panic swallows her fear and breathes in long deep breaths.

She flashes back to books she's read about the sea, most of them not factual accounts, of course. Deep treasures hidden within the protective maws of giant clams, fierce mortal battles between giant squids and deep-diving whales, and the jealous octopus dragging divers to their deaths for daring to encroach on its submarine territory. but she kind of remembers the true story Mr. Harada told her of Ningyo.

Or was that her dream? In any case, she's having trouble remembering it completely. It was about a girl who swam out to sea, alone. To find treasure? A pearl? No, it was to find her lover, missing at sea. And yes, she finally does find him. He's alive. But he's not alone. He's caught in the embrace of Nino. The man's name is Harada and...

Who is Nino? Nino pulls Harada close, the water lapping against their bare bodies, writhing against him, rubbing off a patina of iridescent scales onto his face and neck. She kisses him all over, runs her tongue along his arm, licks his fingers. Hirata twists his head, looks over his shoulder, eyes the girl from within the arms of the tight embrace. Ninyo turns to see what he's looking at.

She hisses a sibilant sigh. Oh, you brought a pretty one. A little scrawny, perhaps. Pleased to meet you. I am Ninyo. The first and the last. And you will know the truth of that soon enough. I'm Ayumi. [Editorial summary: Ningyo draws Ayumi into her embrace and pulls her beneath the water. The scene shifts to the seabed, where a crab feeds on a still-beating heart.] The chemical spill reaches the sea floor, the precipat coating everything it touches.

A jointed limb telescopes out of the organ and snatches up the crab in its terminating claw. An aortic valve opens up in a tooth-studded maw that bites down on the crustacean, swallowing it whole. An eyelid opens on the vein covering of the organ. An eye blinks and the bubble of a tear trickles out of its corner and races to the surface to expire in the air.

The heart sprouts three more limbs and crawls away along the sea bottom, fading into the murky darkness. An empty wetsuit floats on the surface of the sea, bobbing in the gentle swells of the unchanging, ever-changing ocean. Intimacy is a scary thing when you think about it. At least that's what my therapist has told me. If you think about it, you have to get all alone, often in the dark, away from everyone else, so that you can reveal who you really are.

That's why people say vulnerability is a major part of love. Think about the metaphors, bearing your insides, opening up your chest and showing how you really feel. Well, that vulnerability can open up a lot of dangers, especially when you're out at night at Lover's Lane. So let's listen to this creepy one after these quick words. Lover's Lane by Morgan Moore The headlights of a sedan cut through the dark and illuminated the scenery of the nearby area.

Its engine faded into a sleep with the lights flickering off. Two people, a boy and a girl, get out of the car. They meet up at the front and embrace, kissing each other passionately. After a minute, the duo pull their faces apart and smile at each other. I love you, baby, the girl says. I know. That's why we're here. The boy turned on a flashlight and shone it on a walkway that led up a hill.

Cherry Hill? she said sensually. A.K.A. Lovers Lane, he responded. I love you, Frankie. I love you too, Annie. The couple kiss again romantically before grabbing a pair of blankets from the trunk of the car. Frankie extends his arm out and Annie wraps hers around it. With that, they walked away from the car and through the arch where the walkway started. As the couple walked along, the light from the flashlight bobbed up and down.

Annie nuzzled her head against Frankie's shoulder and watched the beam of light move around. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees something that catches her attention. What's that? Annie asked. Frankie and Annie stop walking forward and move back a bit. Frankie shines the light around the area. When the beam hits what caught her attention, Annie tugs at his arm. That!

She points to the object. The light stops where Annie points. What caught her attention was a flat and small tombstone that laid flush with the ground. Inscribed on it was Marshall Presser, 1913-1962 Who's Marshall Presser? Annie wondered. You've never heard of Old Man Presser? The lyncher of Lover's Lane? Frankie asked in slight disbelief. Frankie, you know I only moved here a little while ago.

I haven't had time to learn all the cavalry spooky lore, Annie told him. she wasn't wrong annie had only moved to cavalry a few months ago annie took to the town well and the local boys had taken to her very well frankie caught her eye more than anybody else though he was cute not too smart but cute one of the star football players of the local college and made her feel things that curled her toes to no end.

Why else would she have come up to Lover's Lane multiple times with him? Want to hear about it? Frankie asked with a smirk. He held the beam of light under his chin to look scary as he looked down at his girl. Annie rolled her eyes. You really want to spend our time here telling ghost stories? [Editorial summary: Frankie teases Annie about getting frightened, and she challenges him to tell the story.] All right, enlighten me, she said, and started walking away.

Frankie caught up quickly with Annie and took her hand. He planted a kiss on her forehead. Frankie started walking slowly, and Annie followed suit. Marshall Presser owned this whole area. He was actually the local executioner. Cavalry was a hanging town, and Presser was their hangman. his house was at the top of the hill and the gallows weren't too far away in fact he used part of the hill as a cemetery for those he hung anyways presser was by most accounts a decent guy save for it seemed to most folks as if he enjoyed executing people a little too much that and he had a bit of a temper in particular he didn't like the fact that kids would come up the hill and use the seclusion all these trees provided for as you said hanky panky to try and stop them he started prowling the area at night with a noose made out of chicken wire scared the shit out of him too well one night the old man was out prowling the area He finds a car that's really rocking and rolling.

Presser decides that's the perfect target and goes up to it. The windows are all fogged up so he decides to really give them a scare and breaks a window. As you might guess, the couple start screaming their heads off, the girl especially. Presser peers in and finds that the girl is his daughter. his precious girl under some guy exposed for all the world to see something snapped in the old man he ripped open the door and garrotted the boy his throat slit from the wire and blood flowing from it like a stream then he pulled his daughter out and killed her too after he finished Presser had to dispose of the bodies and that's where he had a stroke of pure genius he buried the two in the makeshift cemetery he used for his executions i mean it was perfect nobody would ever expect anything was wrong if they saw him digging a new grave or two so that's what he did it didn't stop there though like i said something snapped when presser saw his daughter as she was and in the area where so many other kids went to fool around.

Combined with the enjoyment he got from hanging people, the whole thing transformed Presser into a killer. After that night, people, teenagers and young adults especially, started vanishing into thin air. Nobody knew what was going on. Obviously, it was Presser killing off anybody and everybody who dared to go up to his property. Eventually, though, people caught on, and Presser was arrested before being hanged on his own hill.

His wife ended up selling off the house, and it got torn down along with the cemetery a while later. Since then, the city's owned all of this. You can probably guess from the name, but people still use it as a place to get together and spend some quality time. Some say that isn't the only thing that hasn't changed. Supposedly, Presser cursed the hill right before he was hanged.

You'll hear people say that he still stalks the area, a malevolent spirit still out to keep lovers off his land, slaughtering all who dare to do so. But that's a bunch of bullshit, a hokey little ghost story we like to tell to scare ourselves. Now, you know though. Frankie finished his story as the couple reached the top of the hill. Annie laid the blanket on the ground and the two settled in on it.

Wow, you certainly know how to get a girl ready to fool around, Annie told him sarcastically. What can I say? I have a way with words, Frankie replied, slyly. Words aren't the only thing you have a way with, She tells him as the couple embrace each other. You ain't wrong. Frankie and Annie heavily kiss each other, keeping it up while slowly working in their hands and the rest of their bodies.

The wind picked up and blanketed the two in a cool breeze. A clock tower rings off in the distance twelve times. Annie pulls her face away from her lover. It's midnight, she tells him. Happy Valentine's Day, Frankie tells Annie sweetly A car alarm blares out That's my car, Frankie shouts He gets up and starts running down the hill Annie rushes after him, nearly tumbling down the hill doing so When she reaches the bottom, her feet slide her around, bumping into Frankie's back She pulls herself together and gets to his side What happened to the car?

She asks him I... I don't know The lights were flashing and the alarm went off But it stopped once I got down here Frankie explains Did you turn off the alarm with your keys? She asks No, I think I left them with the rest of our stuff Besides, we didn't lock it or set the alarm The two walk towards the car and, using the flashlight, look it over I don't see any scratches, Annie says.

Nothing looks broken either. Who knows what happened? Cars are finicky, Frankie adds on. So, um, back to our business then? Annie asks in as unsubtle of a hint as possible. Frankie laughs and brings her into his arms. You know it. They kiss and hold each other tightly. The wind picks back up and is followed by the ground shaking violently. Annie and Frankie stop kissing and hold each other's hands tightly.

A cracking sound shoots through the area, louder than any thunder either have ever heard. As suddenly as everything started, it stopped, sending the night into an eerie silence. It's broken by the sound of shuffling footsteps. Annie points the flashlight in their direction And screams in terror Before her and Frankie Are a horde of the undead All of the resurrected are in their teens up to their mid-twenties The stench of must and decay permeated through the area While the sounds of bones rattling in flesh Or what remained, peeling rang in the ears of Annie and Frankie what are they annie cried out i don't this can't frankie tried to piece the words together but couldn't the scene was too fantastical too nightmarish the undead march towards the two unwavering in their path as the wind picks up to near cyclonean strength frankie and annie look at each other in desperation unsure of what to do inside of them a switch is flipped and they nod in agreement.

The couple turn around and start running back up the hill. Annie looks behind her as she runs. Frankie! She screams. Frankie looks back and sees the undead chasing after them. They return their attention to the hill, running against the ever-strengthening wind to get to the top. Once there, the pair ran farther and farther along it, closer and closer to where Presser's house once stood.

Annie, watch out! Frankie calls suddenly. Annie stops to look at him briefly. When she returns her gaze forward, she sees why he had called for her. She stops and slides against the grass. Before her and Frankie is emptiness, the end of the hill. The only thing visible in the moonlight is the drop Annie nearly took. Frankie and Annie turned around to find the horde surrounding them.

Their stench and the sound their bodies made drilled themselves into the two lovebirds, pushing them over the metaphorical edge. What do you want? What even are you? Annie screamed at them. To her and Frankie's surprise, they answered. We are those that Marshall Presser killed. Those who had their lives, their loves, cruelly taken away. Now, we are back. But, but why? Frankie asked in fear.

Daddy didn't want us to have fun, to love, not on his precious land. But he is no more. so now we return on the anniversary of his death if we can't embrace love here nobody can one horde member told them you shall both die another said the horde continued to march towards the couple circling them to keep them trapped frankie and annie look around to find an opening of any kind, anything that would let them escape.

Only the drop from the hill down below offered a guarantee from the horror in front of them. Annie looks over at Frankie. Love, she says. Frankie grabs Annie by the wrist and throws her to the undead. Her screams intensify as they rush towards her and begin to devour her. In their frenzy to feed, Frankie sprints past them and back down the hill to his car.

He scrambles inside and digs in his pockets for the key, but doesn't find it. Frankie tries the other side, then the back pockets, then the ones in his jacket. Each one comes up without his keys. Only his phone and wallet are with him. Shit, he shouts to himself. Frankie sits and thinks where they could have gone. The image of Annie being devoured by the horde flashes in his head.

Then it hits him. The blanket! They're with the blanket! He sits in the car, thinking it over. If he went back, he would have to face those... things. If he didn't, then it would be a very long walk home. Frankie had an idea. A smirk formed on his face as he grabbed his phone. Thank you, God, for AAA. Frankie unlocked his phone and pulled up the number for AAA.

A sudden smack on the passenger side window startled him. The phone dropped from his grasp. It was Annie. Oh my God, Frankie exclaims. He unlocks the door and she slides inside. How? What? I'm sorry, babe. He says, It's all right, love. You did what you had to do to live, Annie says. Oh, Annie, I love you. Frankie cries and embraces her in a giant hug.

Annie strokes the back of Frankie's head. As they continue to hug, Frankie begins to smell something rotten on her. He notices that her body is cold. ice cold Frankie pulls away some and looks on in horror at Annie her face was half eaten away and chunks of her clothes and skin were torn off her eyes a dark and blood red he had been too excited to see her that he hadn't noticed what she'd looked like but now he couldn't escape it she was no longer Annie the girl he loved she was this undead hellspawn frankie whipped around to flee from the car but it was stopped almost instantly as annie dug her nails into his shoulders and pulled him down she let out a shriek and threw her head down sinking her teeth into his throat annie shook her head back and forth as her teeth sank deeper and deeper into frankie's flesh blood gurgling out of his throat and out of her mouth.

She then ripped her mouth away, tearing off the majority of his flesh and causing blood to spray up onto the ceiling, ending Frankie's life. Annie looked down at his corpse and smiled with what was left of her face. Happy Valentine's Day, love.