5 New Year’s Horror Stories — Monsters, Ghosts and Midnight Terror

0:01 Hello, my Spookyes, it's your host and narrator Enrique Kuto here getting ready to ring in a new year of fear. And I want to say thank you so much for making twenty twenty four one of the wildest years in the podcast. And on a personal note, thank you all for making this a much more bearable year. As many of you know, I went through a lot of trials and tribulations and a lot of loss, but my Spooky Spooky family really helped me through. So I want to give you one more little gift before on the first we unleash a brand new New Year's story just for you from our good buddy Mike Eshcuey. So tonight prepare yourself for five years of New Year's spookies. Monsters, maniacs, mayhem, ghosts and murderers all are covered here tonight. So make sure you're subsort bribed on your favorite podcasting app and I'll be back here with you next Wednesday with a very very special Weekly Spooky to ring in twenty twenty five.

1:13 So get comfortable. Here comes five pieces of terror. Even the Devil tells the Truth sometimes by Damn Wilder, a weekly spooky or Wiginal. The first couple of years, I just went for hookers. I figured no one would go looking for those broads anytime. Soon. It was simple. While everyone was staring at that big stupid ball like a bunch of deer in headlights, I'd find my gal taking her down an alley and doing them up proper. A happy New Year's for me in theory, anyway, The problem is those bitches looked like they were relieved, and why wouldn't they be. The knife was just another long, hard object painfully crammed inside them, but this one brought an end to their filthy existence. Christ it was so hard to get excited over that work, but I did my best. Damn, I've gotten ahead of myself again. I suppose you want to know what makes me tick? Huh, well, go fuck yourself, just messing with you. What do you want to know? My parents were real pieces of work.

2:34 My dad drank his life away in every pisshole bar down by the docks, and my mom sold ass in the same I was unplanned, unwanted, and never made to forget it. Except none of that hard luck garbage is true. I grew up in a nice suburb. Mom was a teacher and homemaker. Dad was an accountant. The biggest threat to my childhood the fact that I was spoiled, rotten, or as spoiled as a middle class brat can be. So what made me turn bad? I have no idea. See back around seventy six or so, Beating the shit out of strangers for no reason was how I got my kicks. But little did I know this was gonna be the mazzarella stick planter before the egg plant parm that is my career these days. Let me tell you. Anyway, I'd pulped this cat down Chinatown Way, dig looking for any ill gotten gains I could grab. I found some sort of amulet in his left pocket, older than my aunt Petunia, and expensive too. At least I hoped it would be when I went upon it. That would have to wait, though, because beating the shit out of a man is hungry work. In my stomach, it was ground something fierce. Thirty minutes later, I was kicked back in

4:04 my easy chair in my rat trap of an apartment, Hamburger grease mixed with thin blood from that rare paddy dripping down my arm. That's when I remembered my spoils. I reached into my pants pocket and brought out that glittering trinket, now covered with slop from my chow. That's when that bauble went shiny and hit me with some sort of mumbo jumbo magic that sent me sprawling across the floor. Things went black for a hot second, but when I came to, he was just sitting there on top of the giant zenith. Well, I say he, but in truth it may have been a she or a human shaped lump of clam dip, because no matter how hard I stared at this thing, I could never get a clear look at it. But I could tell it was dressed to the nines and always smiling. What's so funny, pal, I asked. That's when the fucker talked directly to my brain.

5:09 And while I can tell you what it said wasn't in any language I'd ever heard, I understood every damn word, the bit about immortality, the murder biz that would seal the bargain one ex woman every midnight on New Year's Eve. Hell, the son of a bitch even had a big contract for me to sign, like something out of a goddamn comic book, And naturally that pen was filled. You guessed, it with blood too much, right, So YadA YadA, Lucifer, hookers and blood. And here we are New Year's Eve, nineteen seventy nine, and it's time for a change. But since not a lot of you clowns are familiar with my work, let me take you through my nine to five if you can pick what I'm laying down. I wake up round noonish. See. I set my own hours so I can sleep in a real job pert if you ask me so, Yeah, shit, shower, shave, fry up an egg maybe two for breakfast, orange juice and vodka.

6:19 Then on with the day's business. I cruise the streets and it is cold as a witch's tit out here. But this involves my work, the three hundred and sixty four days. It isn't December thirty. First, I just kind of walk around with a heart on and get as much attention from the leather boys and hustlers as I can, marking in my mind who is where and when? See the devil is in the details. Then I take in a porno flicker too, grab a dog or a slice, then make my way back through the spank bank of earlier. I go for the toughest strongest looking I can find.

7:01 Then I punch and kick the ever loving shit out of them, rob them, and maybe do the same to any tourist unfortunate enough to cross my path, and then it's off for a cup of joe. What the hooker thing only applies to the killing, and I only do that to the ladies once a year to honor that bargain. The rest of the year, they just ain't my bag. Here's the rub. I don't really give a rats puckered pink asshole about the living foreverthing. Who needs that static? No, I just I'm just thankful that someone put the notion of killing a woman into my thick skull. Most of the time, I don't think about dames at all unless they're up on that stained silver screen. Plus, it inspired me to up my game in the whole inflicting pain on my fellow man game that I've been so fond of.

8:02 Practice makes perfect and all that. Besides, who knows if that shit would still apply anyway. I hawked that amulet the next day for two hundred bucks and a six or a bud Where the fuck was I? Oh? Yeah, yeah, my day all day every day? So I head home, take a shower, believe it or not. Maybe throw in a TV dinner, catch some tube you know what really tickles my asshole with a feather, grabbing a paper and seeing if anyone reports on the shit I do. Hey, what can I say? I'm kind of like a gutter narcissist. Hey, I went to high school just like everybody else. Anyway, those rags never say a peep about me or the meat I tend to rise probably never will either. Fuck them nighttime more of the same. Really, I work two shifts a day, seven days a week, and that's dedication no one can match. And I don't even have a union or nothing. Now that's January first to December thirtieth.

9:10 But that next day, that's where the shit gets serious. I take a little personal time for the most of the day, do a bump, maybe rub a few out, grab a nice steak from Sizzler for lunch, real self care type shit you dig Now, most years I would just hang out on the fringes of Times Square looking for my mark. But as I said, this year was gonna be a big one. So after Sizzler, I got a haircut, just gotta look good for this. I yank a magazine off the news stand and tear out a sample of cologne. I wasn't kidding around here, folks, believe you me class all the way. Anyway. I get to Times Square early and the one thing you out of towners watching from your big comfy couches probably don't realize.

10:00 Motherfuckers line up for this thing hours and hours before anything is even going on, just standing in the cold, hard street and milling around like fucking zombies or something. Don't go away, weekly, spooky, We'll be right back. I kick around for a bit, taking a drag on a marb here and there. As I look around, I have to admit there are some spectacular candidates out there, much better than the ridden, hard and put away wet flotsam and jetsam of the last few years. A strawberry blonde with gigantic tits and braces that catch the now setting sun when she flashes big smiles at her friend.

10:48 An equally attractive Spanish chick with the blackest hair I have ever seen. You can bet those two are on my shit list for sure, but they just ain't the one. I continue my search. I see a cute Chinese girl here, A sexy socialite there all big ticket scores, for sure, but again, I gotta feel this one in my balls. Then it hit me, Fuck, it's cold out here. I need a coffee, and his fate, if you believe in such bullshit, would have it. There was a donut shop directly across from me. I went in, ordered a cup and took a load off for a tick. Now I don't believe in fate, but then again, before a few years ago, I never thought his infernal majesty would be sitting atop my boob tube pulling the old faust gag.

11:44 So here we are anyway, out of the ladies room, she came, looking for all the world like an angel in the flesh. Well, little angel, tonight's the night you get your wings clipped. I watched her go up to the counter in order. The way she moved, I could tell she was athletic, but there was more. Was she a ballerina gymnast? Damned if I know. But she definitely took care of herself, that's for sure. Her hair was like spun gold. I liked that it would show the blood better once I did the devil's business. Literally Anyway, she paid, walked out, and I followed her close, but not close enough to look obvious. Dig Yeah, So she snaked back through the crowds, the steam from her coffee trailing behind her, which was leaving a nice trail for me to follow, like that dude going through the minotaur's maze. Damn, she was with someone that would complicate things, but nothing I can't handle. Just have to think about how to get her away from that bozo she's with. That's when fortune smiled upon me for the second time that night.

13:12 There was that fool with his clipboard, and you know, he was just on a power trip like no other, just wandering the crowd, looking for the most photogenic folks he could find and moving them right in line with the unblinking camera eye that would beam this bullshit into homes nationwide. He'd be easy. I dealt with dudes his size every ding dong freaking day. Hey, buddy, you know that big shot producer running this thing. I noticed the lanyard around the hot SHOT's neck. Damn it, Now, where did my lanyard go? I really played up looking for it too. Oscar material here for sure? Uh you mean Jim, Yeah, Jim, he wants to talk to your ass pronto. Shit probably wants to get him a coffee. Can't he see I'm trying to make this show special. I mean, look at the prime trim. I've picked out what was your name again? Bill?

14:10 I lied first year work in the show. The fol was actually buying this crap. Yeah, does it show? I pointed to where the lanyard should be and chuckled, Eh, you'll be fine. Now where was Jim? This way? Follow me, I know a shortcut that'll take us right past this mess. The people were becoming packed in like sardines. The roob followed me like a lemming, right into the alley, where I smashed his fucking head in against the ice covered bricks so many times the walls started to steam from the sprays of his hot blood that splashed on it again and again. I grabbed that clowns clipboard and lanyard, and I made my way back to where I saw my angel last And there she was, just where I left her. Time to get the show on the road.

15:04 Excuse me, miss yes, pretty and shy too, jackpot, How would you like to come up front and watch the show? I work for the network. I pointed to the lanyard for emphasis. Oh, I don't know. Then her man actually became an accomplice in her pending murder. You have to you'll be on TV. But can he come? Sorry, producers want ladies only. I don't know. No, sweat doll, I'll ask somebody else. I turned to walk away, like really playing it broad. Come on, Miranda, you have to go. This is a once in a lifetime kind of thing.

15:44 You don't mind. No, we'll just meet here after the ball drops. Uh okay. I extended my arm and she took it with a slightly trembling hand. I let her on and on a few twists here, a few turns there, and before you know it, we arrived at one Times Square, and that's where things started to go south for yours cruelly. As I brought her closer, Old Miranda got more and more nervous, and by the time I showed her my long, hard blade, she'd bolted straight for the foyer of that famous edifice without any hesitation. Mother fucking track and field.

16:28 I should assust that out, two cocky old man, I thought, as I played wolf to her scared rabbit and gave pursuit. She'd already roused the half asleep rent a cop that now leaped in my path. I flashed him my badge and mumbled something about some teenager who had mooned the network's cameras and the dumb bastard. He let me pass without any hesitation. I saw a quick flash of the rabbit as she bolted up the stairway and out of sight. Fuck that noise, I was elevator bound. I stopped the car a few floors up as the door slid open. I could see only the back of her shoes as she ascended even higher. It did hit me at some point that if she bothered to notice I was on the elevator and not running up those damn steps behind her, that she simply had to go back down the stairs as I continued going up like a prize winning dumbass.

17:21 Oh well, here's to fear making folks make horrible decisions. My ace in the hole. The elevator hit the top floor, the door hissed open, and my little bunny was nowhere to be found. Now, what in the hell is this crap? I stuck my head out the elevator and whap a kick right across the chops. Fucking karate two. This kid was full of surprises, that was for sure. Damn she knocked me right on my ass. Slowly, I stood and shook my head, trying to get those damn spots and stars from swirling around in the air. That's when the breeze hit me, cold as a witch's tit and ten times as hard the roof. The bitch had gone out onto the roof. With my wits about me once more, I bolted into the hall and immediately saw the roof access door wide open. Oh well, I wanted something to spice things up, and I guess I got my wish, that's for sure. But god damn if those sullen eyed whorees didn't look real good right about now. Let me tell you. I emerged onto the roof and immediately got stung by the biting cold. I need to get this shit over and get my ass home. Maybe uh, throw a hungry man in the oven and sip a beer ten as the Late Late show on spools on WPIX.

18:47 That's when I saw her leaning against the framework of the tower that would soon send that glittering ball that illuminated her porcelain puss skyward. I wasted no time and charged toward her like a. Her eyes grew wide, and she shimmeied up that tower like grease lightning. Fine, if that's what it takes, I'm game. As we made it to the top, I swear to you. With the crowd below gasped in unison, what would mister and missus America say at home? Whatever screw those tamed monkeys this year, We're going off script for the ultimate act of performance art, and this girl's body it's gonna be my canvas. Finally we made it to the top, and my quarry decided it was time to engage me in fisticuffs hundreds of feet above old Manhattan Town. A well landed punch here, a slice and dice there, and we were almost on equal footing until that damn ball lifted off and began heading our way. On and on we battled until that freaking ball was at our feet, and that is when I put my faith in Satan, grabbed that girl by the throat, and kicked off that tower with superhuman force.

19:58 I swear to you, it seemed like we fell forever, intertwined as lovers. And let me tell you this climax, it was gonna be a gusher. And then all went black with a moist splat as a soundtrack. I flashed in and out of consciousness, But I shit you not. Someone actually said it was beauty that killed the beast. Like hell, it was I threw us off that tower. Then all went black as midnight for what seemed like forever. Then I heard a drum growing louder and louder. Turns out it wasn't a drum, but something a little more personal.

20:44 I gasped as I woke up in the city morgue, and as I swung myself off the cold steel table on which I lay, I thought, Prince of lies my ASTs, Now, where are my clothes? Satan's Shotgun by Daniel Wilder. I had a revelation come New Year's Eve of eighteen ninety nine.

21:25 Jesus ain't nothing I reckon. I could resurrect myself like a right heavyweight champion long as my boy's bones held out, that is, But admittedly I couldn't hold a candle to that water to rotgut routine, and I sure as fuck couldn't walk on water. And they're sure as shit ain't any virgins in my vicinity. I guess I truly meant that coming back from the dead. Wasn't any great shakes. What brought me to that biddo revelation were the events of nearly twelve years prior eighteen eighty seven. If you can cipher the night Gideon Pharaoh's Nightmare Zodiac Death Gang came a knocking. And that's exactly as those hocus pocus braggarts build themselves too. Nightmare Zodiac Death Gang should have spent more time practicing with pistols than coming up with candy ass gang titles. But I digress. You see, I was a simple man then, farming, maybe a bit of trap, and not to mention interpreting for the local tribes and those they caught in to trade with. It wasn't the high life, but it was good enough for me, Elizabeth, and our boy Lazarus. That name was a bit of a on the nose serendipity that the fates served up to us by and the bye let me tell you true.

22:37 And I sure as hell wasn't amused. Weren't eighteen months after our boy's birth that the sack headed sidewinder Gideon and his posse arrived on our doorstep and ended his life and his mama's. But as was their folly. They never checked if my heart had stopped, and to be fair, I never asked them why they were so sore with me and mind. So yeah, mistakes were made all around on that day. So once their devilish deeds were done, they headed off into the still night with narya thought of the hell they had borne that day. And still my heart continued to beat like a native drum, a doom dirge, banging away to attract any midnight motherfucker within six hundred and sixty six yards and a track. It surely did. The shaman entered what remained of our home, casual as can be. The fully bandaged man. He led on a leash, followed seemingly devoid of thought as well as grace. He slinked his way over to me like a mongoose, all sinew and glide, the bones around his waist clanking together like the gnashing teeth of some desert devil risen from an unholy hell, ready to feast. As my eyes strained to focus, I saw that bastard light, a fire of green flame, a flame he used to rend the prone form of my boy to ashes and bone in as much time as it takes to tell, I admit the darkness took me then, as I was a powerful sight weaker in constitution than I am now, though I have a dread vision of that bandaged fellow

24:10 placing a lipless mouth over my own and blowing a dust that wreaked a high hell of rock deep into my lungs that made them feel as if they was filled with the fire of old Scratch himself. I came to walking along a trail deep in the nearby Adirondacks, a foul scented wrapping from the shaman's friend tied tightly around my eyes. While you may get to think and that would seriously impede my journey, the exact opposite held true. I could sense where I was going and just where the first of those I sought were hunkered down. So onward I trecked my boy's bones rattling, and the leather sack strapped to my left shoulder. That same rattle let any man or beast in my path know that I surely was not to be fucked with. As I began my stride along Revenge's rough road, I walked those wicked woods until the sun fell low and the sky was streaked in hues of lavender and rows. And it was then I came upon the cabin on New Year's Eve, painted as it were, in two differing colors, sky blue and soft pink, the abode of Gemini, two doses of poison and one pill. The smoke that poured from the chimney let me know those that needed correcting were home, sweet home. I didn't stand on formality. The door exploded inward from the impact of my left shit kicker, splinters spreading out like buckshot, acting as my calling card. It took me a fraction of a second to realize no one was visible in the room magic eyewear or no.

25:42 But I could smell them just fine. Naturally, they didn't surprise me none when they exploded from the shadows of the cabin's ceiling. However, the fact that they could move together like a great spider in their conjoined state definitely raised an eyebrow. I unloaded my rifle with a thunderous roar. The shot tore it nice chunk of whatever the lady side of this thing was called, But she wasn't going down by a long shot. Before I knew it, the male side of the equation had maneuvered himself in such a way that he both knocked me to the ground and managed to wrap the fleshy band that kept these two eternally bound around my neck. That same bit of flesh began flexing and throbbing until I couldn't draw a breath. The various veins and sinew contained under that warm sleeve pulsing like a bag of snakes. Things began swirling and growing ever darker. That's when I died for the first time.

26:30 The shaman appeared shortly thereafter, though my enemies never noticed, although if they did, I wager they'd have been confused as all get out. See that fella simply strolled in, leaned low, and whispered in my ear. He was a bone. I didn't quite gather what he was on about, but it seemed like a question I should answer in the affirmative. He reached into my rucksack, pulled out one of the twelve bones of my boy that clattered inside, and shoved that room covered ivory femur right in my mouth. It dissolved on contact with my tongue, and I was back in business. I sat up, puked and roared at my killers, who had now sat down to a nice warm meal after their deed was done. What I did next would become a bit of a legend. See, I grabbed the steak knife out of the hand of the twin closest to me, who honestly didn't even resist, probably the shock of a corpse interrupting his din din. Anyway, I took that blade and commenced to slice that ribbon that held them together like a rabid wolf. But then I had a pang of conscience. These two had been together since day one, so it would be a shame to take that away from them. Fortunately I learned to sew at a tender age. I can only imagine the look on Gideon's face when he saw one or two, not sure how they counted themselves anyway, saw a member of his posse fixed mouth to crotch of their opposite number, like those yin yang symbols the Chinese fellas out we were so fond of, And imagine it would have to be

28:03 as Once my work was done, I sunk into the earth outside the Gemini's doorstep, and there I slept for a full year, And so it went. At the very end of each and every year, I'd rise up and put a murder on one of those psychos Pisces hard to breathe with concrete in your gills. Taurus, Let's just say he wasn't just a bull from the shoulders up. But that would be his undoing when I rammed that tally whacker straight down his throat. Aries Leo Cancer, Sagittarius, Virgo Libra, Capricorn, Aquarius, dead dead dead dead dead dead dead and double dead. Don't ask. Year after year I fought, and year after year I lost a little bit more of my boy. Peace by peace fine, I came to Scorpio.

29:02 And if you think the other menagerie made for a one of a kind corpse gallery, I can assure you all that that final member of that gang minus their ring master. But I'll get to his arcane ass and a tip. See after the decade and change of carnival exhibits i'd tussled with, I wouldn't blame you none. If you wagered Scorpio would be some kind of insect man. But it wasn't Hell. It wasn't even a man, as you could guess from the hiring of those darling siblings I jawed about earlier. Gideon didn't give a single shit if those that worked for him were men or women, a real rarity as far as evil posses went. In the late eighteen hundreds. Of course, half those motherfuckers would be a right challenge to even classify as human. When I sauntered up to that gypsy wagon Lady Scorpio called home, I could just tell I was in for a hell of a time. The scent of burning herbs filled the air, and the roaring flame burning brightly beside the gaudy wagon was doing a solid job of roasting a large pheasant.

29:59 I hunkered down by the fire. It always feels good to warm my hands after pointing my boots toward the sky for twelve months. The lavender and crimson curtains that covered the entrance to the wagon parted, and she appeared, a raven haired beauty with eyes as cruel and cold then as a whole nest of vipers could possess. I told guineaon doing your wife and boy was a grave mistake. Well, it's a mistake that will surely put you in your grave, Missy. More scarce to come weekly. Spooky will be right back, she laughed. And I had to admit it was an unbelievably delicate thing.

30:39 If that is to be my fate, there is little I can do to change it. I spit at her feet. Yep, won't you come inside a moment. It's your funeral. You can have it any way you want. I entered the wagon and beheld the interior, which contained nothing save for an opulent bed. I sat down and waited for the show to start. She slid into the bed beside me, pushed me down, and started to rub up against me all feline like. I grabbed her hair, tugged it hard, and whispered the most romantic thing I could think of into her ear. This is for Lizabeth. I drove the blade of the hunting knife through the back of her head. Before she could even realize I had pulled it from my left boot. She made that weird gargle, whistling, exhale thing that you never really got used to. Then the light and those big brown eyes went dim. Should have started with this one. I managed to remove my knife from her skull and kick her ass right out of the wagon in a near seamless movement. I heard her hit the ground and then splash her skin flew through the curtains and collided with the far wall of the wagon with a sickening sound akin to pig in herds being thrown at a whorehouse. Ah here we go, I said, as the giant scorpion clickety clack through the entryway. The odd thing about this scorpion as it had a great set of breasts and a tail equipped with a rather rainery looking cock where the poisonous sting should have rested.

32:09 I'm going to fuck you one way or another. Lover to be spat from a mouthful of spearlike teeth and bad intentions. Get in lines, sister. I drew my iron and unloaded on that nightmare with barrel of blazon. That damn tail whipped at me again and again. His scorpio's face looked like a vat of prize winning chili, and to my horror, the loads that appended shot were some sort of vile acid. While the walls of the wagon began to dissolve, the bitch stopped or bucking' well, fuck me, silly, I didn't die this go around. I wonder if I'll still take a dirt nap yep, I said, as I folded into the cold earth For the first time in years, I dreamed. I saw my family, the unspeakable terror life had become the soul crushing scream into the abyss I'd make year after after year as I was reborn to put down one monster after another. And I saw that burlap headed bastard that had made this all so. And I saw children, unfamiliar, children with their faces tinted a glowing blue, the exact same hue of which I had never seen the like of before. Guess what day it is?

33:24 That's right, the day I end the life of that masked son of a bitch and finally rest in peace. That's the theory anyway. The morning of New Year's Eve eighteen ninety nine, I had that Jesus thought I mentioned at the start of this yarn, and I found myself wandering the streets of old Manhattan Town, beastly bandages in place. Everything was cold, gray, until I got that unholy vision that Gideon was well and truly a man about town, though he wore a false human face over his rough mass. I followed him around a pace, but he seemed to make stops at random, and although he made no indication that he knew I was there. I knew, damn well he did. Finally he got the drop on me after a rather well executed disappearing act in the bowery. Let's retire to my residence and talk this through a dead man, he purred. Yep, I answered. We entered the luxurious townhouse Gideon called home. Please relax, Gideon said, gesturing to an array of sofas and chairs that festooned his abode. I took a load off on a nearby Persian rug. That furniture was doubtless cursed and would spell my doom if I dare put my ass upon it. Are you a gambling man, he asked, Not by nature, no I am,

34:56 And if I had to play my hand, I would wager. You want to know why I chose you and your kin to slaughter. The thought had crossed my mind a time or two. If I'm to be honest, I answered, true. I had heard that if you do someone a cosmic level injustice, like a random killing, for instance, then powerful magic is revealed to those willing to travel a dark path. You heard rightly, he gestured toward my rucksack. The magic my son, your son became the rarest of magics. You should be kissing my feet for this gift. I see it a tad different, I wager you do. Nevertheless, my theory was correct. Nevertheless, you should have listened to your pet, bug Scorpio. She was always the most in tune of my menagerie. Was is the operative word. I care little that you killed any of those sideshow attractions. You're all heart, No, I'm all business. How so I queried, Let's say you give me that last bone in your sack, and I'd let you walk out of here and live a long and happy life. Let's say I do. What does that give me? An eternity without those I love, those you took from me. True, but a life is a life.

36:24 I thought on this a spell, and I had me a revelation. Hold on, you'll see fine, you want the bone? Here it is. I removed my son's skull from the sack and held it up for that snake to see. Glorious, please let me hold it. The shaman spoke into my ear for the last time. I nodded. I tossed my boy's skull to Gideon, and as that bone grew ever closer, I drew my pistol and fired the skull exploded. When the bullet hit the bone, the shaman laughed. His Egyptian pal laughed Gideon, however. Gideon, however, did most assuredly not laugh.

37:06 The shards of the skull became missiles and pierced Gideon's mask in one hundred razor sharp volleys. He did that gargle thing and fell like a sack of potatoes. That's that, then, I said, I waited for some sort of cosmic redemption. Would I stand before my family once more? Would I finally be able to rest? A glowing letter a appeared in the sky. A glowing s followed it, and another s ass. Real cute, I thought, as I finally succumbed to the darkness. Brent laughed ass classic. Yeah, man, this game is so easy if you have enough quarters, Todd said, I've beaten it like a hundred times. The duo walked away from the cabinet as the attract screen of Satan's shotgun called out to the next player, and Elizabeth and Lazarus died anew a few cold Ones by David o'han.

38:15 Woman The Man stood alone in the parking lot, watching a chip bag roll like a tumbleweed. Across the asphalt. The abandoned Kmart no longer held any of its corporate branding. The moss and mildew speckled bricks were covered in graffiti and the windows glazed over with years of grime. The man pulled his gown up in a bunch and aimed at the graffiti, relieving himself between a proclamation of love and a smiley face. The stream slapped against the brickwork and splattered the toes of his filthy hospital slippers. He groaned. He needed to get real clothes if he was going to enjoy his self awarded release from the Cerletti Institute.

39:02 Kmart had always been his favorite store. The long shifts at the poultry plant sapped most of the joy from his life. Then he discovered this particular store. Every Sunday, he set the tone for the week by coming in to get all his essentials, enjoy the hospitality, and visit with the employees, especially Diane. He scratched at the fat scar between the silver waves of hair. He would never forget his first love. He was sure she hadn't forgotten him. He'd see if he could find her once he got himself together. Whispers from inside snapped his mind back to the present and curled his lips in a malevolent smile that spread like a tearing wound. He leaned his face close to a fist size hole in the window. Nothing was stirring between the leftover shelves and racks. A camera flash lit a corner of the store. The sudden illumination left dots flickering in his vision, but for the briefest moment he saw the two urban explorers reflected in a spider webbed mirror. He covered his mouth to hide his giggling.

40:18 Kmart was still the best place to do his shopping. Brew Year's Eve is about more than just busty beer wenches and dollar pints, Darren said, with a swing of his arm that splashed beer from his glass and onto his shoes. It's about the resilience of the American people in the face of puritanical religious fervor. Maggie Mills rolled her eyes. It's about getting drunk off your ass at the Florida Georgia Line and belching your ABC's with the other Neanderthals. I can make it all the way to oh, Darren chortled. Brew Year's Eve was Oklahoma's largest beer festival.

41:00 Its exponential growth and one of a kind setting attracted beer connoisseurs from across the country. Three thousand attendees meandered the grounds of the Old Springer Hotel. Short bursts of fireworks detonated overhead every hour in a countdown to the new year. Local bands cycled on and off the grand stage to the east of the building to get the crowd fired up for the headliners. How Love Rocket was still riding the success of their nineteen eighty six hit Sweet Cream was anyone's guess, but their appearance added another fifty dollars to the already steep admission price. Vendor tents lined the manicured western yard with an assortment of wares that rivaled most malls. On the south lawn, party goers gambled on carnival games for a chance to win cash and prizes. The northern sprawl directly in front of the hotel was a smoky haze of mingling scents from the rows of food trucks and between them and the entrance.

42:03 The hotel's ornate fountain featured Poseidon rising from a tower of logger, spewing sea life with his trident thrusting into the sky. Beneath the watchful eye of stained glass rose windows six stories overhead, two hundred scantily clad serving girls gracefully prowled through the sea of people with trays of beer, and then quickly sprinted back to the dressing room to empty the tips from their haltertops before making another round. Look around you, Maggie, this is historical. Darren spread his arms wide. At the backdrop of the once lavish hotel. A vinyl banner fluttered in the chill breeze over its doors.

42:47 Happy brew Year from Okay Brewing. The name's ok but the beer is legendary. Darren's right. For once Maggie's boyfriend Carlton put an arm around her waist. These guys did something really amazing here is that? So Maggie held his chin in place as one of the wenches bounced past them. And what could be more amazing than all this cleavage and sheep beer? Maggie's best friend and Darren's girlfriend, Karen, giggled. We're in the Springer Hotel, Darren said, matter of factly. Maggie shrugged, and Carlton held up a finger. How about I show you the other three followed him through the crowd.

43:33 They rounded the beer fountain and went to the main entrance, where Carlton slapped the brickwork. A series of pock marks dotted the facade, beside a bronze plaque emblazoned with the name Carlton pointed to the food vendors. On this night in nineteen thirty one, sixty prohibition agents, led by two gun Heart pulled up where those trucks are now? He said. The Spring Hotel refused to acknowledge prohibition. Everyone knew it, but no one wanted to risk the wrath of Farrell Springer. But Hart was al Capone's big brother. Darren interrupted, and brass balls are genetic, So what happened? Karen moved closer to hear over the crowd. Farrell stepped out the front door and shouted, if you're coming in, it's drinks for a dollar or lead for free. Carlton whipped his hand up with his fingers, making a gun, and then he fired a single shot, taking the hat right off Heart's head.

44:38 Maggie poked a finger into a bullet hole and they returned fire. Boy did they? Darren said? The barrage killed Farrell and three bystanders in the lobby. The guests started pulling guns and the hotel became a battleground. Carlton jerked his head to the door and they continued inside. People died in the shootout, and a store of moonshine caught fire, killing six more and destroying the west wing. It was the largest mass killing in the history of Carpenter County. Darren added, barely. Otis Kilgore's Christmas party only missed the mark by one. Carlton said with a snicker. He snapped his fingers and smiled wide. Did you hear Netflix is doing a movie about Otis? I hope they get Kevin Smith to play him. Carlton laughed, that'd be a riot.

45:32 My babysitter used to tell me Otis would come and get me if I didn't listen to her. Karen mused, who tells a six year old that most of the babysitters in Ittawa? Darren shrugged. Maggie sneered and nodded in agreement, remembering her own sitter's warnings. The couples made their way through the lobby and up the wide staircase between its hand carved rails In ninety three, Okay bought the hotel and started restoring it for their headquarters as a slap in the face to the prohibition days. The top two floors make up their offices, and they built their brewing facility on the ruins of the west wing. Carlton laughed, you can't tell me that's not the coolest story in the world. Maggie leaned on the banister and watched the crowd in the lobby. What about the other three floors haunted as shit? Darren chugged the rest of his beer and whistled for a server. Yep. Carlton added, They renovated the rooms and rent them out as a tourist attraction.

46:37 Everyone that's ever stayed here claims they saw weird things. Maggie lifted the festival pass hanging from the lanyard around her neck with a room key, and we're spending the night with the ghosts and the drunks. What could go wrong? A maniacal shrill guffaw answered, and Carlton spun in a start. His hand swiped the glass from the giggling guest's hand on accident, and splashed the contents across Karen's blouse. The sheer material clung to her, revealing the bare breasts beneath. She screamed at the icy shock of IPA and then covered up in embarrassment. Her free hand slapped the partygoer's cheek on reflex. The wide grin melted from the man's weathered face as the red handprint formed in its stead.

47:27 He picked up the plastic pint glass from the floor and twisted it between his fingers, Glaring at Karen through it. He pressed the rim into Carlton's chest. Ain't that something? Not even a crack? He giggled again, in a pitch that betrayed his stocky build. Yeah, lots of new things in the world. Huh, Carlton cleared his throat. Seriously, sorry about that, though, No sense crying over spilled hooch, the man said with a chuckle, before turning to Karen. And you shouldn't be so quick to hide such wonderful tits. At least let an old man earn the smack he gave him. He licked his plump lips. What the fuck did you say? Darren grabbed the back of the man's shirt and slung him to the wall. Darren, take it easy, Carlton called out. He took a step forward, fists clenched and ready to defend Karen's honor. When a walking refrigerator whisked between them like a leaf on a breeze, Darren's face bounced off a muscular chest. The security guard glared down at Darren and growled for him to be cool.

48:36 That high pitched giggle pierced the crowd again, and the guard turned to give the man the same warning. The goliath pressed his finger into the man's chest. I don't see a pass around your neck, he grumbled. The man giggled again and made a show of padding down his own torso. I seem to have set it down somewhere, he scratched at the Barren's stretch of flesh where the scar created a second part in his hair. I'll bet I left it in the restroom, if you'd like to escort me to retrieve it. The security guard clamped his hand on the back of Giggle's neck and led him away. I think I'll do just that, pal, What in the actual fuck? Darren shook his head. Just some harmless old goon.

49:22 Carlton said, come on, Karen, let's go to your room and get you cleaned up. Maggie hooked her arm through Karen's and turned to Carlton. She kissed his cheek. We'll meet you two at the bar. I came for the fireworks, not to watch you to get into a drunken brawl. Behave? Did you hear that? Better check the locks on your doors weekly, spooky, We'll be right back. You sure this is the bathroom you used? The guard grunted, Oh, yes, I'm positive of it. The man smoothed his hair in the mirror. I suppose it's possible I left it in my room. However, what's your name? The guard unclipped his radio.

50:09 I'll go have someone check for it. The man chewed his bottom lip, tittering excitedly. The hell is your deal? Man? Ain't nothing funny about that? My name's Otis, he cackled, suddenly making the guard jump. He tucked his hands in his pockets and looked around the bathroom. Can you stop being creepy as shit long enough to tell me your last name too? It's kill Gore? Otis kill Gore? Otis? Straightened up? All right, Otis? The guard raised the radio and paused, Hey, wasn't that the guy that killed all. The blade jabbed into the crevice of his hip, and then glided up his body and threw the thick cords of his neck. Otis pumped the pocket knife into his kidney and lung before the giant batted him away. Otis crashed through the stall door and landed on a toilet.

51:02 The guards stomped toward ODIs, who tapped his feet gleefully. The behemoth slipped in the arterial blood cascading down his body and crashed to his knees. ODIs stood and stroked the man's cheek. Pardon my amusement, ODIs chuckled. But you can't have slaughter without laughter. He jammed the knife through the guard's ear and tipped him over. He snorted in an attempt to suppress a burst of excitement. ODIs bent and retrieved the radio from the man's belt. He pressed the call button. I need a room check on a rowdy guest. He wheezed, ten four. What's the name? A voice answered, I'm afraid I didn't catch the last name with all the commotion, ODIs said, I heard his buddy call him Darren. A long moment of silence followed before the voice came back. Looks like we got a Darren Hildebrand in three zero three? Say, uh, who is this?

52:07 I don't recognize the voice? Otis giggled. Can you believe that asshole? Karen pressed a cigarette between her lips. Have you got a light? Darren insists on lighting them for me. Maggie looked beside her to the crystal ashtray on the dresser and collected the book of matches bearing the Okay Brewing logo compliments of the house. She broke one off and struck it. Karen puffed the cigarette to life, holding her soaked blouse up for examination before dropping it into the trash can. She blew smoke from the corner of her mouth. It had probably stained before we got home. Anyhow.

52:48 Maggie tucked the matches into her genes. The only thing I love more than your thriftiness is your modesty. Want to put your boobs away now? Karen pressed them together. Jealous much, Maggie man chest. She laughed, then realized the high school nickname still struck a nerve. Sorry Mags, no Biggie. Maggie stood and stretched and flicked Karen's nipple. Ouch. Karen covered up and retrieved her suitcase. Fine, I'll put them away, you salty bitch. You enjoyed it, Maggie winked and collected the cigarette. Hurry up, we need to babysit the boys before they do something stupid. Karen slipped on a new shirt and buttoned it quickly. You don't think that creepy old man will bother us again, do you? Between booze and dementia, he probably won't realize he's met us. Before Maggie opened the door and waved for her to follow, Karen grabbed her lanyard and tossed it over her neck before rushing to catch up. I'm just worried, is all, Karen said, as she struggled with a few more buttons before giving up. If she showed enough cleavage, someone might mistake her for a beer wench and tipper at least.

54:00 Oh shit, what now? Maggie rolled her eyes. I forgot my clutch, Karen smacked Maggie's ass. Keep the guys at the bar and I'll be right down. Karen twisted the antique key in the lock and stepped into the room. The handbag was waiting on the edge of the dresser. Her eyes flicked on the stains on the carpet, ruddy footprints that turned to a tight circle. Her lip quivered and the cigarette fell away. The realization hit her a moment before the door slammed shut and the hand clamped over her mouth. You're not as pretty as my last girlfriend, ODIs hissed over her shoulder. Wet steel lifted the blouse from her skin. But I bet you're beautiful on the inside, she screamed into his palm. As the blade sank in, ODIs shrieked with laughter and slid the knife down, separating buttons and flesh. Karen squirmed for freedom, emptying her torso that much quicker? What's taking Karen so long? Carlton checked his watch again. A screaming guest cut off any reply.

55:14 The trio ran toward the commotion. A man vomited in the hall, while another sobbed against the chevron wallpaper. A guard pushed his way into the bathroom and shouted profanities at his discovery. Maggie nudged through the crowd for a better look. The bloodpool told her to stop, but she leaned into the bathroom further and saw the corpse sprawled on the tile. She slapped a hand over her mouth and ran back to the guys that guard from earlier. She whimpered, he's been killed. Let's go get Karen and get the fuck out of here, Darren said. They made their way to the staircase when a serving girl wiggled them with a gift bag in her hand. Are you Darren, she asked? Asked Darren nodded. She held up the bag.

56:04 Some old guy gave me twenty bucks to bring this to you, he said. It was an apology for earlier. She handed over the bag and waited around for a tip. When it was clear there wasn't one, she huffed and scampered off. Darren looked around the crowd for the man. Y'all go get Karen and I'll wait here. That sick fuck said he was going to the bathroom. Remember, Maggie tugged Carlton's arm. They made it to the landing when Darren shrieked and fell to his knees. The couple ran back down, and Carlton threw an arm around his friend. What happened. Maggie picked up the bag and looked inside, immediately dropping it and turning to puke Jesus. Carlton whispered.

56:52 The tipped bag spilled its contents on the floor before them. Carlton's eyes locked onto the severed breasts. He slid away from them and tried to stand before fainting at the foot of the stairs. Maggie wiped her mouth on her sleeve in time to see Darren storming up the staircase. I'm coming, motherfucker, he shouted, I'm going to tear your goddamn heart out. More people were pushing down the hall to see what the commotion was, and more screams echoed out of the bathroom when they found out someone pulled a fire alarm. The clackson sounded with staccato bursts of strobe lights. The squeaking wheels of an antiquated luggage cart was barely audible over the ruckus. Maggie watched the crowd split between those running for their lives and the ones that were waiting their turn to see the dead guy.

57:43 A giggle sent a shiver up her spine right before the blow landed. She slumped to the floor, fighting unconsciousness. The old man smiled over her as he hefted her onto the cart. Another buffed up hulk in a security t shirt grabbed the lunatic. SA what's going on here? Don't you hear the fire alarm? He barked. The old timer giggled. Kids these days, he gestured to Maggie. They can't hold their hooch. Just loading my nephew and his girlfriend up to get them out of here. Quicker, sir, good plan. The guard hired for his imposing size and not his intellect, slapped the man's arm. Hurry up and get them to the lawn. Yes, sir. Maggie blinked twice and then blacked out.

58:38 You're not safe yet, Weekly Spooky will be right back. Maggie's eyes flicked open and closed until vision edged fuzzily from the abyss of unconsciousness. The world around her was a kaleidoscope of swimming colors and dancing lights. Someone had shut off the fire alarm, and far away, the first responder's sirens were catterwauling down the country roads to the Springer Hotel. The spotlights outside continued their dance across the facade of the hotel and brought the twelve foot tall stained glass rose window into focus. Maggie slowly became aware of the plush leather chair, cushioning her body and then the cords that bound her to it by the wrists.

59:28 She turned the chair to take in her surroundings. Across the ornate desk, Darren was strapped to another, less expensive chair in a similar fashion, only he was stark nude. His mauled, bloody nose told her he'd gone down just as painful as she did. O k Brewing ads were framed on the wood paneled walls, and shelves held industry awards in commemorative bottles. In the center of the room was a pedestal with a glass case atop and a mason jar in the side on a decorative pillow. Their captor was nowhere to be seen in the vast office, where Maggie cleared her throat and tried again, where are we?

1:00:12 Darren sniffled the CEO's office. I recognize it from the brochure. Did you find Karen? Maggie braced herself, already knowing the answer. Is she really gone? He butchered her. Darren broke down, crying loudly and struggling against his bonds. He cut her to pieces. Maggie sh Maggie hissed, you have to keep it down. We don't know how far he's gone. He could hear you. I'm I'm sorry, Darren choked on the words. The police. They're coming. They've got to be. Maggie pushed her chair along the carpet. Yeah, to investigate a murder, not to rescue us. They won't even have a head count until tomorrow. She rounded the desk and rolled closer to Darren. Untimey, Darren wiggled his hand until he got his fingers on the knot that held her left arm in place. Maybe Carlton will tell them we're missing and they'll come find us. Maybe she scanned the room for her boyfriend. The hazy memory of her capture replayed in the back of her mind. Maybe Carlton woke up and ran, or maybe he woke up and got himself killed. Her attacker's words came back to her slowly, like letters floating in a bowl of alphabet soup, until they made a sentence again. Keep working the knot, she whispered. The door

1:01:46 swung open, and the old man entered with a skip. Oh goody, you're awake. He giggled excitedly and grabbed the back of Maggie's chair. Darren tugged the knot hard until the man wheeled her away and tore the cord from his fingers. The man parked Maggie next to the desk and opened one of the drawers. He clicked on the vintage lamp to rifle through the contents until he squealed happily. The shears gleamed in the dim amber light. These will do just fine. He stroked Maggie's cheek with the point, and then went for Darren. I was afraid you two would sleep right through the big moment. It's almost midnight, the blackout at the asylum. Maggie swiveled her chair slightly.

1:02:32 Darren had made some slack in the knot, and she rolled her wrists slowly to loosen it further. I saw it on the news a few days ago. They said there were too many bodies to tell if anyone escaped. But you did, didn't you. You set that many creative free spirits loose in one place, and things are bound to get interesting. The man said, with a gentle tittering the blackout was a gift from God and one and should never refuse a gift. So Maggie tugged softly to see if she could squeeze out, who are you? Why you're right? I feel like I've known you so long that I plane forgot to introduce myself. He knelt on the floor in front of Darren and tapped his fingers on his captive's knee. A watch alarm beated in the hallway.

1:03:25 Maggie let her head hang and bit her lip. When the door started to open. She kept her eyes closed as she raised her head and hoped she was wrong. She wasn't. The cops will be here in a few minutes, Carlton said, we don't really have time for this. Uncle Otis, you should never rush a celebration, carl carl nodded anxiously. That's true. I suppose we can take the bootlegger tunnel in the basement all the way to the fireworks bunker. There's an electric cart there, no sound, and a fore battery. There's a farm a few miles away. By the time the cops search, this place will be free and clear.

1:04:06 But we need to go soon, of course, my dear boy, But it's not really New Year's He slid the chrome blades around darren scrotum until the ball drops The giggling disappeared in the wave of Darren's frantic screams. As the scissors closed slowly on the wrinkled flesh, Maggie jerked her arm free while her psycho boyfriend laughed it up with his long lost uncle. She worked the knot on her other hand and freed herself. As Darren's cries turned sharper, the glands plopped on the shag carpet and his head lulled. Maggie launched herself from the chair, snatching a trophy from the desk. Adorned with a gold plated beer keg. The ornament twinkled on its arcing path toward Carlton. The stone base stamped a dent into his forehead, and a backswing snapped the keg off in scent it and a few teeth through the glass case resting on the pedestal, ODIs buried the shears into Maggie's thigh. She cried out and collapsed beside him. The madman straddled her, squeezing her throat with his free hand and leaning close. His hot, fetid breath was like roaches crawling across her cheek. She twisted her head away from him, her arms stretched for something she could use to free herself. My nephew's letters told me how sweet you are, candy was. ODIs ran his tongue across her ear. He pressed the point of the scissors into her belly and laughed hysterically at the impending kill.

1:05:41 I only wish I had the time to taste it. Taste these. Maggie shoved the severed testicles into his open mouth. ODIs leaned back, twisting to spit them out. Maggie grabbed his hand and shoved it toward him, lodging the scissors into his pudgy belly. Otis ripped the office cutlery from his abdomen and raised them overhead. You bitch. Maggie jammed her fingers into the wound, pressing deeper until she felt something slippery between the tips. She spread her fingers, tearing the wound and drawing a fresh scream from Otis. Her hand pushed through and disappeared inside him. As she clenched her fingers around the tissue, Maggie jerked her hand free, and gravity did the rest. The intestines twisted out of the new orifice like a worm wriggling on a hook.

1:06:33 Otis rolled away, screeching. He discarded the scissors to push his guts back in as he crawled for the door. Carlton groaned on the floor and staggered to his feet after a series of failed attempts. Maggie stood next to the pedestal and read the little plaque in front of the decorative pillow. The jar of moonshine was the only thing that survived the fire in nineteen thirty one. She hefted the mace jar and examined the contents. Carlton rubbed the oozing wound in the center of his head and cleared the blood from his eyes, just in time for the container to meet his face. He staggered backwards and fell on top of the desk. Maggie dug in her pocket and limped closer while Carlton struggled to remove a shard of glass from his cheek. Can't can't we talk?

1:07:23 He held up his hands defensively. I mean, you don't turn your back on family, right, Maggie. You get it, don't you. Maggie struck a match and twisted it between her fingers. I told you I came for the fireworks. Carlton slowly lifted his shirt to his nose and sniffed the alcohol saturated fibers. Oh shit, he rolled over the desk. Come on, Mags, this isn't you. You're not a killer. New Year knew me. She lit the book, igniting the remaining matches in a sulfurous flash, compliments of the house. Maggie tossed the match book and Carlton ignited instantly. The flames flared over his face as he spun, sprinting for the giant window and diving through it. The stained glass fell through the spotlights like shards of a shattered rainbow as he plummeted toward the cool salvation of the beer fountain.

1:08:19 Maggie stood in the empty frame and glanced down. Carlton's burning body danced on the end of Poseidon's trident. Maggie watched until it went still. His jaw tore away from the prongs, and his corpse dumped into the fountain with a puff of steam and an anticlimactic sizzle. She ambled away from the window, collected the scissors from the carpet, and made her way to the stairwell. Her leg throbbed as her toes squished with each step. As the blood collected in her boot. She limped down the stairs, following the crimson trail left by Otis and leaving her own as she braced a bloody hand on the wall for balance.

1:09:00 In the basement, she found the pile of boards where Carlton had reopened the bootlegger tunnel, and beside them the carpenter's hatchet he used to pull them down. She slipped the scissors into her pocket and scooped up the small axe before continuing her pursuit. In the stretch of pitch black, a flashlight danced unsteadily ahead of her. Maggie didn't know how long the tunnel went on, so she pushed herself to catch up. If Otis got out first, he'd get in the cart and disappear before anyone could catch him. She couldn't let that happen. Maggie bit her tongue to keep the screams at bay. She just needed to get closer.

1:09:43 The light dropped, followed by a curse. It rolled chaotically before it steadied and rose. Otis had fallen, and Maggie used it to her advantage, pushing her wounded leg into a hobbling sprint. Otis, she cried out. The light stopped moving. Otis giggled maniacally and started to turn. She reached back and hurled the hatchet. The laughter turned to a howl as the blade found its target. Maggie watched the beams swirl and fall to the ground once again. The flashlight rolled down the path and she retrieved it on her way. Otis was sprawled in the gravel with the hatchet sticking out of his skull, intersecting his scar. Ugh not again, he whimpered, I haven't seen you since last year, Otis.

1:10:37 Maggie shined the light in his face and drew the scissors from her pocket. Did your nephew's letters tell you we used to go axe throwing with Darren and Karen? ODIs smiled slowly, his giggling turned to a rasping cough. Maggie knelt beside him and worked her fingers into his waistband. You know, I think I'm missed it earlier, the part where the ball dropped. Otis wasn't laughing anymore. Maggie wiped her fingers on her jeans, collecting more blood than she got off, and flipped the ignition switch. The little golf cart jutted forward and whirred across the manicured grounds to the wall of flashing lights waiting at the Springer Hotel.

1:11:27 Her mind roamed as the cart bounced along the path. She wondered if this would make it into the movie, or if they'd save it for the sequel. The final look of shock on Otis Kilgore's face as she left him in that tunnel would make a great fade to black. Maggie thought about him bleeding out in the darkness and started to giggle. Stakes and Showguns by Dan Wilder, dedicated to David Denier. It was the last day of eighteen ninety nine that a group of brave souls put to rest the embodiment of all things satanic, the vile lord of the night, the great dragon, Count Dracula, laid low by means of wood, steel, fire, and love. They celebrated the coming of the new year in darkest Transylvania that year, raising many tankards of spiced mead and toast of their great victory over the darkness. Their minds and hearts filled with an abundance of faith in the pureeness of humanity's will and its unwavering ability to extinguish the flame of Hell's emissaries. Fucking dumbasses. I hate falling asleep here. You

1:13:00 always wake up with a film on the roof of your mouth, and the one two punch of stale popcorn and even more stale piss can really take the wind out of your sails. And don't even get me started on the bums that come in here just to warm up and occasionally die. There were a gaggle of such gents in the front row this very night, and they cared about the first feature of the evening, a re titled re release of blood Shack, which had been cycled through this theater at least five times in as many years as I did. I was here to see Showgun Assassin, which I missed on its first go around earlier this year thanks to work commitments, but I'd be damned if I missed it again. Hell the trailer alone made it seem like it would be the blood bath of the century, which you'd think i'd try to avoid given my profession.

1:13:50 But there was nowhere else I'd rather spend New Year's Eve, So yeah, now I'm awake and hungry. I made my way to the lobby and found it both quiet and empty, which it never is, giving it a full minute with no sign of life. I stole a bucket of popcorn and a watered down soda, neither of which I felt guilty about since they taste like crap on a good day. I made it back just in time to catch an earful of the raunchy our Future presentation theme, which made a pornoscore sound sedate by comparison with its paint swirl graphic accompaniment. Now, if all that happened next was I ate purloined treats and watched a man and his young child fuck up a good sized hunk of ancient Japan in a whirlwind of wholesome violence, then this would be a boring yarn delay on you. But for a solid hour that's exactly what went down. But wait, it gets better.

1:14:51 In a New York minute, at random intervals, there would be a mild movement from the huddled forms of the homeless dudes in the front row, but whatever was going on, they were mercifully keeping it to themselves for once until they didn't now one aside about Showgun Assassin, it frequently features blood spraying everywhere like a nightmare. Money shot, And it was during one such scene that I noticed one of the bums had wandered up to the screen and was trying to catch the on screen blood rain in his open mouth. What in the fuck now? Next he tried to lick the screen, which was when I took action. Hey, FUCKO, sit your ass down now. Usually that was all it would take with these folks to return to some semblance of order, but not this time. Nope, I had just fucked up royally. You know how a cat's eye shines in the dark screen, liquors did too. When he turned to look at me, speaking of cats, he hissed at me as well, which was both rude and unnerving. All I could do for a few seconds was stare in open mouthed dumb assery at the rapidly approaching figure, a figure that was bounding across the tops of rickety theater seats like a demented wolf. I gripped the wooden armrest

1:16:24 of my theater seat so tightly it snapped off, not much of a herculean result, given the state of the theater. Within a heartbeat, the creature had lifted me from my seat with one hand and stared into my eyes with those freaky glowing peepers of his. I was nearly mesmerized, but regained my senses enough to mutter, you're a vampire. When the being opened its jaws wide as a snake, and twin fangs descended wetly from its whiskey scented gums. As if by instinct, I shoved the jagged edge of my broken armress directly through the creature's heart. The being crumpled and had dissolved to bones before it hit the cum and gum encrusted floor. I tried desperately to catch my breath, but more hissing erupted from the peanut gallery.

1:17:15 I know where your mind is headed. This badass took out the rest of those fang bangers next in a shocking and entertaining explosion of raw action. I agree that sounds amazing. I puked instead. Oh shit, maybe I was a tad unclear as to my profession. I work reception at a blood bank. Anyway, it turns out I had more than enough time to spray vomit on seats that were no strangers to such actions. As the Master of Death succumbed to our hero's sword on screen, I could see that the remainder of the front row were feeding upon themselves instead of hunting me down. Apparently cheap booze and supernatural monsters are not good friends. This time, I wised up and made a run for it. So the lobby was still dead and completely without anything remotely useful as a weapon, and the front doors and fire exits seemed to be welded shut. So that's just fucking great.

1:18:22 The adjoining theater was without patrons, but a swarm of bats swirled around the light from the projection booth as a horny fish man was making sweet scaly love to is less than enthused partner. Their red eyes turned towards me, and I slammed that door shut. I can't believe I'm going to die without seeing that fucking movie again. The manager's office was sans manager, but plus one shaker of garlic salt, so I had that one going for me. I mean, if vampire movies were to be believed, I'm so fucked. Looking out the offices sealed tight window, I could see drunken revelers making their way down the street, completely oblivious to the impending hammer film scenario about to play out. In this greasy little shithole. As if on cue, the door to the room exploded into a million pieces.

1:19:16 As those bats finally caught up to me, I tore the top of the garlic salt off and began flailing it like a madman possessed. The barrage hit the bats dead on eventually, and they fell to the ground and smoking, screeching piles. I made my way through the thickening haze and hauled ass back downstairs. And that's when I heard the cry for help. Someone was clearly calling for help as I flew pellmell into the lobby, someone in the theater I had currently occupied. For fuck's sake, I made my way to the theater door and cracked it open. Well, the movie had ended, so there's that. Cautiously, I made my way in to the silent auditorium. I walked past my bile soaked seat, and there, untouched by puke particles, was my pilfered beverage. I grabbed it and took a pool water with just a hint of cola flavor. I'd sampled this vintage before. In the now raised house lights, I could see the absolutely nauseating scene inside. The vamps had eaten themselves to death, double death, and from under what could only be charitably referred to as a gut pile came that pained call for assistance. As I neared the mountain of wreaking carnage, a hand darted skywards, sending glistening red bits in every direction. Help, please, for all that's holy, help me.

1:20:48 If you're not afraid, then you're already dead. Weekly spooky, We'll be right back. Against my better judgment. I grabbed the wrist of that mystery on and tugged hard. You know that sound when you dump a slow moving turd of dog food from the can and it finally shimmys its way free. That was the sound that filled the air, although it was a great deal. Louder, a bearded man, his thin frame covered in gore, fell from the mound of formerly human sloppy joe, Thank you, my son. He punctuated that statement with a sour wine belch. You a holy man. Formerly my flock has sadly gone astray, he gagged. Any idea what's going on here? Sadly I do, he said, His brows furrowed and dripped one bodily fluid after another. Go On, I went to the bathroom, turning wine into piss. Jesus would be proud. I was pretty happy with that one, though the hobo didn't even react. Even at the end, I can't catch a break in there. I saw the manager of this fine establishment kneeling in one of the stalls.

1:22:07 He started sobbing like a baby. Come on, spit it out, you pious motherfucker. He was was was what giving Who I believe was was Dracula a A. Here's what I know. This dude from the garbage plate, used to be a priest, comes here to get warm and and I can't believe I'm going to say this gave Count Dracula a bj in the bathroom. Yeah, it turns out when he was done with the manager, he used his mesmerism to continue on with the padre there. When said encounter happened, he could see things from Dracula's mind, him surviving a murder plot, his arrival in Manhattan in the turn of the century, his dwelling torn down in a movie theater erected while he slumbered in the cold soil hidden below, and his resurrection through feeding on the homeless that sheltered in the cinema This was all told over candy that had went off data solid four months ago. I refilled my water soda and took a long pull. Now my plan here was to spit out some cool ass catchphrase and make a plan for trying to get away from this nightmare, maybe build some sweet weapons. But the smoke got in my lungs. Wait, smoke those damn bats. They came a flopping and smoldering down the stairs into the lobby, and

1:23:38 they were looking more healthy by the second. Come on, think, wait, were the bats melting together? I took the final pull off my drink and tossed the cup to the ground. The bats had formed one large bat that strode forward, walking on its wings. It roared at us as it slowly advanced its bulk. Folk smashed into the concession stand sending popcorn and soda cups in every direction. That's when it hit me, a priest water soda. I bet that could be one hell of a holy water. Hey, father, do you think you have it in you to bless some water? He burped. I took that as yes, Now this was a plan, except I finished my drink and the soda fountain had been smashed to shitterenes by the drag attack. That's when an idea occurred. I was about to die, and I really needed to take a piss.

1:24:36 I mean, I could probably just let it go at this point. What a shitty way to go. Think? Think that could work? Father? Does it matter what vessel the holy water flows from? Two burps? That's clearly a no. It was then that I whipped it out and turned towards the priest. Your father, bless this. He held a trembling hand above my stream and said something regardless. It worked, and I hosed that hell beast down good. As his flesh sizzled, Dracula hissed, screamed something in a language I didn't understand, burst back into his bat form, and exploded through the glass doors of the lobby and out into the frigid winter night. The priest had dozed off. I stepped over the broken glass and out onto the street.

1:25:30 More New Year's revelers passed, laughing onward into the night, a night that now contained the greatest evil known to mankind, and evil waiting to strike again. Alien zombie punks from Upstate New York by Dan Wilder. Why is it so dark in here? Damn it, I just hit my head on a ceiling. Wait a minute, I think I'm dead.

1:26:16 Let's see if I can piece this thing together. We went into the city earlier. It was me Sloppy Suicide, or Ricky as he was known before last year, Debbie and myself. We strolled around the city streets, which were both ten to twenty degrees warmer than the streets of the nowhere mountain town we left three hours earlier, but also inexplicably smelled like chocolate flavored breakfast cereal, which was strange but better than the leather mill runoff that usually tickled our noses with its award losing scent of sickly sweet putrescence mixed tenderly with chemicals that were most likely banned everywhere else in the free world anyway. Earlier, our punk rock asses clamored into Ricky Sorry Sloppies busted up conversion van with bags of snacks and beer, and began the long drive to the Big Apple. It was already snowing steadily as we tore down the roads leading to the highway entrance that would bring us close to our ultimate destination, Max's Kansas City for a likely to be unforgettable night of punk music and New Year's revelry. But the chains wrapped securely around the van's tires kept us thankfully on the road, no matter how dicey the weather was.

1:27:37 Apparently it was in part forgettable, because piecing this shit together is getting harder. But I digress. So we walk around, got buzzed. Debbie bought a few trinkets from the street vendors, and eventually we wandered our way over to the venue. After arriving and stepping gracefully over for a disturbingly large puddle of puke, we stepped inside. The place was wall to wallpunks, bullshitting, dranking, being charmingly rude, All of our greatest qualities brought out in mass. We mingled, we drank, We were loud, and soon the opening band lurched to life.

1:28:20 I can't, for the life of me remember their names, but they sang fast, aggressive songs about alienation, indiscriminate fucking. There might have even been a television cover in there. They were quickly followed by more scruffy snot leaking bands that played forty song sets in the space of twenty minutes. Apiece so far, So worth it The night wore on and on, but soon the headliners took the stage, Coming straight from the wilds of New Jersey. These folks looked, for all the world could tell, like ghoules returned from the dead to raise unholy hell, and they were louder and more confrontational than all the other acts combined. Wait a minute, Gouls, That triggers something to fire off deep within my brain. The scream started from the back of the club, but it was barely audible over the din of the band and the crowd cheering them on. Occasionally, the band's bass player, a hulking dude with long black hair brushed in front of his face, would smash his instrument into anyone foolish enough to dare to get on stage. Onward, they played bringing Us Chain Gang choruses and three Angry chords, all wrapped around tales of the Kennedy assassination, teenagers from outer space and satanic werewolves, and subtly the crowd noise became less and less. I have no idea what compelled me to turn around, but I did then quickly regretted it.

1:29:56 In the front of the house, someone or more accurately, something moved among the crowds swiftly. The being's eyes reflected light, not unlike a dog or a cat, which was disquieting enough for sure, but the fact that it was seemingly murdering patrons left and right was undoubtedly its worst feature. I turned back to warn Debis and Debbie, but another shadow being had torn them to pieces before setting to work on the band, who admittedly fought like leather clad perserkers, but no amount of leather clad muscle and violence could stop the creatures, whose numbers had now swollen to four.

1:30:37 Upon seeing this, I did the only same thing I could think of. I ran the fuck out of there. I like it spooky, weekly spooky. We'll be right back. I pushed through the throng, slid constantly on barf, blood, and lord knows what other bodily secretions, before I burst out onto the city street. The heavily falling snow made everything seem like a Christmas card worthy winter wonderland, but the sky held less enchanting prospects. Far above the skyscrapers, meteors streaked across the sky, leaving violet trails in their wake.

1:31:22 I ran on, passing various New Yorkers staring uncharacteristically in shock. As feet away, one of the meteors hit the sidewalk, splitting it violently. One of the shadow beings rose from the smoking rubble and immediately attacked a bystander, sending a geyser of blood up into the frigid night sky, the resulting crimson rain freezing to red ice as soon as it collided with the ground in steam hissing droplets. Shit, why is this happening? I thought stereotypically as I tore ass on and on without a destination, no other motivation than saving my narrow ass from getting ripped a new one from astro monsters falling from the heavens. A few blocks down, things got much worse. I saw one of the shadow creatures attack a woman, but amazingly, it didn't finish her off before it bounded off after a faster moving victim that ran like a fucking cartoon character over a sheet of ice before regaining his footing and speeding off into the night. Against all common sense, I made my way over to the woman to try and help her, but upon arrival, she was a complete and total mess that looked more like a plate of discarded spaghetti and red sauce than a young lady out for a stroll.

1:32:43 Please please just hold me, she whimpered. I did, immediately, soaking my best T shirt and blood. What's your name? I asked, mainly because it's what I saw characters do on TV when they encountered similar, deeply shitty situations. Uh, Olivia, she muttered weakly. That's a great name, I said, unconvincingly. So what brings you out tonight? What the hell kind of question was that? In response to my quandary, her eyes glazed over cataract white. Suddenly, she sat up straight and shoved me back hard, sending me directly on my ass.

1:33:30 A hiss escaped her now blue lips, which were flecked with neon green phlegm. Her gums had retracted to the point where her teeth now appeared ginormous. Speaking of teeth, she began clicking them together rhythmically. Somewhere behind me, I heard a slight commotion which quickly grew in intensity before a group of what the hell are these things? Zombies? Yeah, let's go with that. A group of zombies spilled forth from a nearby bodega. Their limb was flailing wildly as they moved both fast and clumsily forward. I screamed and possibly pede a tad and booked it like a freight train straight out of hell. I ran until my lungs burned from the freezing air. Then I made the absolutely idiotic decision to stop for a second get my shit together.

1:34:26 The zombies were on me before you could say, George A. Romero. I felt no pain, but darkness soon took me. I came to for the briefest of seconds. The sound of unearthly trumpets filled the sky, and as soon as they arrived, the creatures formed back into meteors and rose into the sky. As the strange music became more and more like sirens, blackness came for me again, and then I woke up to even more blackness and a minor head injury from the aforementioned ceiling. I stared into the darkness before my eyes finally settled on a sliver of light down by my feet. I slid forward on my back and pressed my feet towards the light. Damn. Whatever I pushed up against was cold, cold, but very forgiving. A door opened, letting harsh fluorescent lights smash into my eyes with wild abandon.

1:35:38 I pushed forward and immediately fell onto the rigid tile floor. It took me about three point seven seconds to realize where I was the morgue. I looked down at my now bare feet and removed the Manila tag that was tied around my big toe. I have no idea what had happened to me, but I was definitely dead. I caught my reflection in a nearby mirror mounted on the wall. I wasn't a zombie either. Then I saw the two forms rise from the gurneys behind me. Rick, Sloppy Whoever, and Debbie sat up. They were nude minus the thin sheets that covered them, but Sloppy's mohawk was unmistakable since it was hot pink with electric blue tips. It took a minute, but I could tell they were much the same as Olivia from earlier in the evening, but their faces seemed downright friendly instead of you know, menacing as could possibly fucking be. You guys look like shit, Thanks Pal, you look naked. I hadn't noticed it before, but Sloppy was right. I was every bit as naked as my friends, but where I was shivering from the coldness of the room, they seemed to be as cozy as could be. My eyes darted around the room for something to cover up in, and then they fell on a plastic bin filled with

1:37:08 my clothes, wallet. Hell, even my beat to shit Doc Martin's were accounted for. I crossed the room and pulled on my clothes. So what's new with you two? Well, we were ripped apart by aliens and woke up as zombies. But you know, doesn't feel too bad, Debbie said, cheerfully. You guys don't want to eat me, not particularly, No turn me into one of you. Nope, Sloppy said flatly, Well what do you want to do? We sat at Max's drinking our stolen beer, just me and my two naked zombie pals. The walk back was uneventful. This particular area of the city seemed completely abandoned. Only corpses remained.

1:38:02 Occasionally we'd hear noises of happy crowds from deeper within the city, or footsteps close behind us or from the rooftops, But if more creatures prowled tonight, we sure as fuck didn't see them. The entire thing was very omega man to be quite honest, but as previously mentioned, one with less monsters for a change, so that was a big plus. Anyway, a punk and two naked zombies walked into a bar. No punchline, We just walked in, stole beer, and sat at a table surrounded by corpses on a chilly New Year's Eve night. Hell. As hard as it is to believe, the New year had already begun a few hours ago, probably between the time we were eaten by monsters and waking up as either one a guy that obviously fainted at the prospect of being eaten, when in fact, some cosmic twist of fate called the herd home before said eating could take place, or two as monsters that behave absolutely nothing like monsters that made them, who in turn were made from other monsters from space. It makes perfect sense if you're drunk or mentally ill, or a combo of the two.

1:39:15 A sh it was only the wind. You're safe, weekly spooky, We'll be right back. So we sat and drank and laughed as if absolutely nothing was off in any way. It was kind of perfect, to be honest with you, So now what what what I mean? You too can't exactly go back home again unless everyone in your family. Fuck that if the whole damn town was suddenly stricken blind. You know that's kind of mean, but totally true, don't you think, Rick, Debbie asked, a little string of neon green flems slash drool escaping from her mouth as she spoke. It does make sense you're not going to correct her for calling you Rick after being dead. I don't know, the nickname seems tacky.

1:40:04 Now it's not just now, kiddo, Debbie countered. Rick flipped her the bird playfully. I think the first thing we should do is assess just how far this thing spread. The rest of the city seems okay, but here you'd think there'd be emergency cruise or or something. I said, looking for a TV or radio we could use. I finally located a small transistor radio behind the bar and switched it on. Only static filled the air no matter what channel I tuned to. Well, so much for that. Rick got up and wandered around the room for a minute. I think we have to consider something else, he said, solemnly, which is those things will be back. You can bet on that. What makes you so sure? Debbie asked, her white pupilless eyes staring blankly. Why come all this way?

1:41:01 Rip shit up for under an hour, then just piss off back to whatever demented home world could spawn space invader rejects that turn people into zombies, most of which are hungry for human flesh except when they aren't. Like me and deb that seems like a solid assumption. Maybe this was like a dry run test shit out. See how it goes, Debbie said quietly. I'd say it went swimmingly, with the exception of you guys, what if we are the desired result and the others were failures. Rick offered no offense, but naked zombies that are no different than regular humans other than looks seems like an experiment created by an asshole convention or just by someone that has next to zero common sense. I mean, they're aliens, presumably, maybe their standards of intelligence are vastly different from ours.

1:41:59 As logical as anything else that's gone on tonight, Debbie, can I talk to you in private for a moment? Ricky asked, sounding more like an adult than I've ever heard him before. Debbie and Ricky crossed to the opposite end of the room. They stood silhouetted by the stage lights that remained on. I couldn't help but wonder what in the hell was so damn important? But I didn't have a long time to contemplate. As soon as they returned to the table. So listen, man, me and deb were just talking and we have a proposition for you. Is this going to get weirdly sexual? Debbie and Rick laughed until they coughed up more green goo that hung tenaciously to their cold blue lips. No, it's more like dinner plans spill it. Let's say, for instance, that those cosmic creeps make a return engagement tonight. Do you think your chances of continued survival are greater or lesser given your current state? To be like you would help, But I'm not too keen on joining the ranks of the shambling dead. We move around just fine, and we're impervious to the cold. Deb added merrily. That's all well and good, But say I agree to this. What makes you so sure I won't end up like the others because we aren't like that, and we'll both bite you better your chances that way? And then what do we do? Hide out?

1:43:30 Maybe gather some weapons. If they think we're on their side, we may be able to just walk up and pop them before they know what hit them. I truly hate it when you make reasonable arguments. Is that a yes? I mean, back home is comfortable. But I can't help but think I have a greater purpose in life than being a counter jockey at a video store. Saving the whole damn planet would definitely qualify for that. Fuck all right, I'm in Debbie barely let out an excited yay before the biting began. When I woke up, I felt nothing, no more cold, no more warmth, thankfully, no hunger. Eventually, we gathered some supplies, clothes, and made our way back to our van. Soon we were headed due west. As we exited the city, which, besides the few blocks we spent the night on, seemed perfectly normal in every single way.

1:44:32 For now, we sat under the hot desert sky, just outside the trailer we had shared for over fourteen years. We sipped lemonade from glasses adorned with various sci fi flick characters, more for nostalgia than anything, since we no longer required any food or drink whatsoever. As the years wore on, we became less and less sure our intergalactic enemies would ever return. But since we basically just hung out and watched and made music. It really didn't matter much until the day that changed. The saucer hovered low in the sky before releasing three meteors that collided with the desert floor. Three shadow beings crossed the sand. We drew weapons we've never fired and prepared for what we guessed was coming. Except what came was vastly different than any scenario we'd imagined over the years. The beings held out their smoky hands and our weapons vanished. Didn't plan on that, Ricky whispered. Then the largest of the three spoke to us, Hey, folks, we just want to say sorry for the trouble we caused you. As children. We've done some serious growth since then and realized how childish our prank was, but we were just young punks. We all looked at each other with our cataract eyes, and it finally all made sense. The anarchy, the chaos. We

1:46:06 as punks held those beliefs dear, and so did our brothers from the stars. I cracked some beers and handed them to our guests. So what bands are you, guys? Into? Spookies, Thank you so much for the most successful year in Weekly Spooky history. As we head into our sixth year of podcasting and bringing you something scary every single week. I want you to know it's become more than just a show to me. It's become a purpose when life gets hard, when tragedy strikes. Something that helps me stay grounded is knowing that I owe all of you subscribers a show every week, and your ears, your fears, your your imaginations are what make this show work. So thank you from the bottom of my heart for giving me and all of my wonderful authors a chance to be a part of your lives, to make your workday go by a little bit smoother, to make washing the dishes a little more fun. That's all I ever wanted when I launched the show, because it's what podcasts gave me as a listener, a little bit higher quality of life

1:47:38 through audio. I knew I was gonna get a little bit sappy, but I just want to say thank you, and I can't wait to release even more programming to you all year long in twenty twenty five, and we're going to start it off with a Strickfield mini series. So January is all about fun, cliff and scary events. So thank you again, and I will mention it because I have to. If you want to support us in a direct way, head to Weeklyspooky dot com slash join for as little as one dollar a month, get two bonus shows every month and help the show very directly.

1:48:19 But that being set, just you being here, just you being subscribed and listening whenever you have a chance, even if it's only around the holidays, when you have the time, means everything. And if you ever want to email me for anything, I don't care what. It's Weekly Spooky at gmail dot com. All Right, I got to get back to work because I still need to record our brand new New Year's Day show. But thank you again for a very special year, and I'll talk at you soon.