Feb. 26, 2025

ROADKILL - A Gruesome Tale of Karma, Horror, and Revenge

ROADKILL - A Gruesome Tale of Karma, Horror, and Revenge
Lucas Riggs thought he was untouchable—rich, arrogant, and above consequence. But when his obsession with photographing roadkill turns into something far more sinister, he learns the hard way that some creatures refuse to stay dead. A chilling horror story of vengeance, transformation, and the ultimate price of cruelty.

Roadkill by Travis VanHoose
Check out his work here

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🎵 Music by Ray Mattis
Check out Ray’s work here!

👨‍💼 Executive Producers: Rob Fields, Mark Shields, Bobbletopia.com

🎥 Produced by: Daniel Wilder

For everything else check out WeeklySpooky.com

🎧 LISTEN NOW and subscribe for spine-tingling horror stories every week!

🎉 Unlock exclusive bonus episodes and support the show on Patreon!
👉 WeeklySpooky.com/Join

📬 Contact Us / Submit Your Horror Story!

🎵 Music by Ray Mattis 👉 Check out Ray’s incredible work here !
👨‍💼 Executive Producers: Rob Fields, Bobbletopia.com
🎥 Produced by: Daniel Wilder
🌐 Explore more terrifying tales at: WeeklySpooky.com
WEBVTT

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Lucas Riggs thought he was untouchable, rich, arrogant, and above consequence,

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but when his obsession with photography turns into something far

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more sinister, he learns the hard way that art may

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live forever, but some things simply never die. What's that

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You want to be scared? Come with me? He will

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experience tales over opera, ghosts, and death. He does not

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recommended a butt of week at heart heart listeners in

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the dark, It's more fun at that way way. This

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is Weekly Speaking. Hello, my spookies, It's Wednesday, and you

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know what that means. It's time for a little spooky

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in your weekly. I'm your host and narrator, Enrique Kuto,

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and tonight's story is a bit of sick and tumultuous terror.

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I know you're going to enjoy from friend of the

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show and prolific author Travis van Hoos. But before we

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get to that story, I want to say thank you

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all so much for joining us tonight and for allowing

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us to make your week a little bit creepier in

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the best way possible. If you haven't already, please subscribe

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on your favorite podcasting app because you do not want

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to miss all that we have in store for you,

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and while you're over at Apple Podcasts and Spotify, leave

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a five star rating. It really does make a big

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difference for the show. And if you love what we're

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doing and want to support us directly, go to Weekly

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Spooky dot slash Join for as little as one dollar

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a month. You get two bonus shows every month, exclusive audiobooks,

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creepypasta readings, and so much more at Weeklyspooky dot com

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slash join. But as for tonight, some people think they

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can do whatever they want, that the world is theirs

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to step on, break and toss aside. But what if

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the things they hurt could hurt them back. We're going

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to meet a young man named Lucas Riggs who had

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everything money, a fast car, and a hobby that made

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people squirm. See, Lucas wasn't like other people. He had

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a fascination with roadkill. But one night on a lonely road,

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Lucas is going to realize his macabre interest may just

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come back to bite him. So get comfortable, get cozy,

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and get ready for a relax mixing ride down a

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dark highway where things are not exactly as they seem.

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We'll meet up with Lucas and find out exactly what

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happens right after this roadkill by Travis van Houss. Lucas

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Riggs was on top of the world. For years, he

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had struggled to make it as a professional photographer, a

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career he believed he was destined for, Yet he had

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never made a sale like the one he had just closed.

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He attributed his sudden success to the unorthodox and disturbing

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subject matter of his latest series of photographs. Multiple buyers

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had placed competitive bids on the series, resulting in a

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crisp check for one hundred thousand thousand dollars folded neatly

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in his back pocket. It's been a long time coming,

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Lucas thought. He always knew he was talented, and could

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hardly believe it had taken until age thirty three to

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get his first big break. He had flown home to

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Ohio with a shit eating grin plastered on his face.

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He was eager to spread the word of his good fortune.

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His few friends would refer to him as arrogant. They

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believed he expected the world to hand him everything on

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a silver platter, and his obsession with status defined him.

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They all knew he was living life on his parents' dime.

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Those in the art world despised him. Lucas had a

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habit of dismissing their work as amateurish and lacking inspiration,

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even though he had not sold a s single peace

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since college. He was a hypocrite with many enemies. Lucas Riggs.

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His arrogance extended far beyond his photography, seeping into every

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aspect of his life, especially his interactions with women. Lucas

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believed he was God's gift to women and would seethe

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with rage whenever he was rejected. When he looked in

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the mirror, he saw a masterpiece and couldn't understand why

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any woman would ever consider turning him down. He believed

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they should feel honored to be in his presence. When

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a woman rejected him, he always found a way to

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get his revenge. He wasn't violent by nature, but he

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acted out when he felt slighted. Once he had been

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snubbed by a girl at a bar. When he saw

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her kissing another guy. Recognizing the car she drove to

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the bar, he slashed all four tires with the switchblade

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he always carried. Physically, Lucas was undeniably attractive. He worked

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out and took care of his body. He had well

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defined muscles and a strong jawline. His arms were covered

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with expensive tattoos. His smile revealed full lips, perfect teeth,

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and deep dimples. His eyebrows and lashes were dark and striking,

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framing his hazel eyes. His hair, short on the sides

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and tussled on top, seemed casually perfect, though he spent

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at least half an hour each morning creating the just

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rolled out of bed look. Rolling down the window of

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his red BM doubly, Lucas lit a cigarette and cranked

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up the stereo. An old rock tune blasted through the

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speakers as he drummed his fingers in time with the

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music on the steering wheel. The cocaine he had snorted

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in the airport parking lot was still coursing through his veins,

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and his buzz was keeping him sharp and jittery. He

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couldn't wait to get home to keep the party going.

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The night stretched on as he drove down an old

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road known as Route seven forty seven that led to

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Rigg's Manor, where he lived with his wealthy parents. He

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had the guesthouse to himself and rarely engaged with his

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mother and father. In his mind, their only purpose was

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to fund the extravagant lifestyle he had been accustomed to

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since birth. He never set it out last. But he

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couldn't wait until they died so he could inherit their fortune,

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something he felt he was entitled to. Lucas's father was

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a day trader and his mother was a famous lifestyle blogger. Together,

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they brought in nearly thirty million dollars a year. Lucas

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couldn't understand why they lived in Ohio. He continuously encouraged

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them to relocate to the West Coast, but they refused,

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explaining that they loved the tranquility of their small Ohio town,

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hobbs End, believing it kept them grounded. They feared moving

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to a big city would change them and challenge their humility.

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Mister and Missus Riggs knew they were solely responsible for

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Lucas's behavior. They spoiled him as a child and often

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disgust cutting him off to find his own way in

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the world, but neither of them could bear the guilt

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of actually doing it. Towering stalks of corn flanked the

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road the BMW was speeding down. Lucas's sharp eyes scanned

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the road ahead. The cocaine heightened his senses and his

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wide eyes were overly alert. Deer were notorious for darting

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out from the sides of the road this time of year,

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and he had no intention of damaging his pristine BMW

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by hitting one. Just a month earlier, he hit a

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deer on this road, but unlike the others who might

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swerve to avoid the deer, Lucas deliberately hid it for

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his art. An art professor once told Lucas that there

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is beauty in everything, even death. He was referring to

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the vibrant hues of the leaves changing color in the fall,

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but Lucas took this to the extreme. His mind fixated

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on Route seven forty seven, the desolate stretch of road

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to his home. It was the kind of road where

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you could speed for miles before passing another car. For

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this reason, it was also littered with road kill. All

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types of wild life lived in the woods and fed

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in the cornfields surrounding the road. Almost everyone who lived

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along Root seven forty seven had at some point hit

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a helpless critter on this stretch of asphalt. Once a

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week a city the cleanup crew arrived to collect and

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dispose of the dead carcasses. Lucas often wondered what type

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of man could do such a job. In his eyes,

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public waste workers were beneath him. What a sad fucking existence,

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he would think with a sneer when he saw them working.

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On more than one occasion, he'd even tossed an empty

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bottle from his window at them, his lips curling in satisfaction.

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Beauty in everything, even death, the Professor's words echoed in

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Lucas's mind the day he pulled his car to the

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side of Route seven forty seven, where he spotted what

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looked like a dead raccoon in the middle of the road.

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Grabbing his camera, he slung the strap over his neck

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and stepped on to the hot asphalt. He could smell

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the decay as the animal rotted in the beating sun,

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but the odor didn't bother Lucas. To him, the scent

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represented art. When he arrived within touching distance of the

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dead and bloated animal, his brilliant white teeth appeared behind

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a smile that would have been disturbing if anyone else

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had witnessed it. Large black flies buzzed around the rotting

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corpse and maggots were already feasting on the critter. A

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black beetle crawled from a hole where one of the

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raccoon's eyes used to be. Raising the camera, Lucas began

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shooting the raccoon. The camera clicked and the film inside rolled.

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As Lucas collected photograph after photograph, he knelt to adjust

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his angle, then lay flat on the hot asphalt to

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snap an even lower perspective of the poor animal. As

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he stood up, he noticed large black winged vultures circling above.

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Their slow, ominous movements told him they would descend to

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feast the moment he left, he made a mental note

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to return in a few hours to capture the gruesome

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act of the circle of life. Throughout that afternoon, Lucas

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captured what he considered beautiful photographs of raccoons, squirrels, a possum,

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and even a dog. He had found his inspiration in

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death and believed each photograph was a work of art,

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But he craved something more, something significant, smashed and strewn

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across the road, something big and fresh. Don't go away, weekly,

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spooky will be right back. Lucas spent the rest of

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the day developing film in his photo lab tucked in

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the back of the guesthouse of Rigg's manor. His parents

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had paid for every piece of expensive equipment. As he

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watched the pictures slowly develop, he was consumed with excitement.

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He had never seen something so beautiful as the entrails

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of roadkills spilled on Route seven forty seven. He was

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amazed at how the white maggots shined in the bloody

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folds of the dark fur. This calls for a celebration,

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Lucas said aloud, patting himself on the back. As he

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admired his work, he poured himself tall glasses of whiskey

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and coke, and he was thoroughly drunk by nightfall. That

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is when inspiration struck a brilliant, twisted idea to complete

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his collection of photographs. He'd take the gardener's truck head

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down Root seven forty seven and scatter apples from the

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family orchard along the deserted road. He'd bust them open,

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hoping the scent would lure a deer, maybe even an

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entire family, on to the road. When the moment was right,

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he would floor the truck, propelling it forward, metal meeting

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flesh and bone. He'd then take his camera and create

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another photographic masterpiece, the perfect work of art, to complete

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his collection. Returning from his art exhibit in California, Lucas

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hadn't seen a single piece of roadkill on Route seven

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forty seven. He was still thirty miles from home and

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eager to tell his parents about his good fortune, letting

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them know he would relocate to California. He couldn't wait

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to hold up his check and prove to his parents

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he had finally made it. He'd have called ahead, but

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had left his cell phone in the hotel room in California.

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It was being shipped back to Rigg's manor the next day.

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Up ahead, something caught his eye. This time it wasn't roadkill.

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It was a woman, a stunning woman. She stood on

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the edge of the road with a brown suitcase in

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one hand and her skirt hiked up with the other.

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Her leg gleamed in the moonlight and the headlights of

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his car. Even from a distance, he could see the

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woman smile. Her long blonde hair blew gently in the

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evening breeze. Lucas eased his foot off the gas pedal,

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pulling the car to the side of the road. He

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assumed the woman needed a ride, and Lucas was more

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than willing to offer one, perhaps even more if the

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opportunity presented itself. As the car rolled to a stop,

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the woman swiftly moved toward the vehicle, her suitcase gone.

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Lucas barely bled linked his eyes before both the front

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and back passenger doors swung open. The vixen slid gracefully

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into the front seat, while a strangely dark, rough looking

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man slid into the back. What the fuck, Lucas froze

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as both the doors slammed shut. I thought she was alone.

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He became instantly nervous, jumping slightly. When the cigarette he

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had been smoking had burned down to his finger tips,

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searing his skin. He flicked the butt out the window

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without taking his eyes off his passengers. His eyes darted

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to the rear view mirror. He had seen enough movies

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to know he might be in a terrible predicament. Thanks

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for picking us up, the blue eyed vixen said, with

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a comforting smile. I'm Doris, and that's my boyfriend, Derek.

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She nodded toward the back seat. No problem. Lucas's tone

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was sharp and steady, although he was nervous. His hand

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trembled as he gripped the steering wheel so tight his

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knuckles turned white. He didn't like the idea of a

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strange guy sitting behind him. Too many horror stories about

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people picking up hitchhikers and being robbed or murdered started

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this way. Don't worry, we're not psychopaths. Doris laughed lightly,

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as if she could read his mind. We were riding

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with another guy, but he kept getting handsy, so we

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had him drop us off. He's not the type of

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guy Derek and I would invite into our bedroom, she

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remarked playfully. Lucas's shoulders relaxed slightly. He wasn't against the

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idea of joining Doris and her boyfriend in the bedroom,

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as he couldn't take his eyes off her. Yeah, you

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have to be careful who you ride with or pick

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up these days, Lucas said, glancing at Derek in the

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rear view mirror. He was tall and lanky, and Lucas

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knew he could take him in a fight, as long

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as the guy didn't have a weapon. He also had

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long brown hair, which Lucas considered to be sissy hair.

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He didn't believe real men should grow their hair long,

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unless they were bikers. Where are you headed, Doris asked, home,

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I live about thirty miles down the road. Lucas glanced

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at the glove compartment, wishing his switchblade was in his

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pocket instead of locked away. Perfect, we can find our

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way to town from there. We're just trying to meet

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up with some friends. They were supposed to pick us

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up from the bus station, but their car broke down,

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Doris said, with a smile, Sorry to hear that. Lucas

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put the car and drive, pulled back onto the road

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and speeded down Route seven forty seven. Once again, he

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kept his eye on Derek through the rear view mirror

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to ensure he wasn't up to something sinister, but he

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sat quietly, holding the brown suitcase on his lap. There

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was a big white sticker on the side that declared

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pork sucks. The rock music on the stereo played softly,

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almost blending into the engine's hum. I don't even remember

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turning it down, Lucas thought. Don't you get scared driving

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on these old roads alone at night? Doris asked, scared?

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Should I have something to be scared about? Lucas knew

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the cocaine buzzing through his system was most likely making

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him paranoid. He shook off the creeping anxiety, but remained

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on guard. Not really, I like the seclusion. It's beautiful

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out here, Lucas replied, focusing on Doris. He prayed that

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she didn't hear the tremor in his voice. This time,

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he couldn't hide it. Something was off about the couple,

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but he couldn't put his finger on it. He regretted

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picking them up, but couldn't think of a way to

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politely get them out of his car, so he stepped

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harder on the gas pedal, speeding up to get to

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his house as soon as possible. I just think it's

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creepy out here, Doris said, her voice soft. She crossed

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her legs in a deliberate motion, and Lucas couldn't help

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00:23:06.119 --> 00:23:10.599
but notice we heard strange sounds when we were standing

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alongside the road. I started to imagine spirits lurking in

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the woods or cornfields, she laughed nervously. I've never seen

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a ghost out here. Lucas scoffed. He didn't believe in

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such foolishness. I drive this road almost daily, and the

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grisliest thing I've seen, has been roadkill, no ghosts, Lucas replied, calmly. Really,

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Doris asked what the hell does she mean by really?

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You're not safe yet? Weekly spooky will be right back.

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A sound came from the back seat. It was slow,

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00:23:58.680 --> 00:24:03.680
heavy breathing. If that dude is masturbating behind that suitcase,

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I will be pissed. Lucas couldn't bring himself to look

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in the rear view mirror. He was focused on Doris,

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00:24:13.240 --> 00:24:18.400
who shifted her skirt higher. Lucas was sure she was

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intentionally giving him a show. Yeah, I hit a deer

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out here a few weeks back, tore the shit out

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of the front hood of the truck I was driving,

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Lucas said, his voice thick. He felt himself growing hard.

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He didn't know if it was because of Doris or

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from remembering how beautiful the dead deer had been when

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he smeared it across the road. He could still remember

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that night as vividly as if it had happened yesterday.

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After scattering apples along the pavement, Lucas pulled the gardener's

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beat up green truck to the side of Route seven

302
00:25:04.200 --> 00:25:08.960
forty seven and waited with the headlights on he knew

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most deer were reckless when it came to light. People

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said they ran straight toward the light, as if they

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00:25:16.680 --> 00:25:21.920
were drawn to them, like moths to a flame. Lucas

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00:25:21.960 --> 00:25:25.599
didn't have to wait long. From the edge of the cornfield,

307
00:25:25.960 --> 00:25:32.000
a large deer had emerged, cautious but curious, its legs

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moving hesitantly across the grass before stepping on to the pavement.

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It placed its nose against the concrete, sniffing the broken

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apples on the asphalt. Tapping the apples with its nose,

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it lifted its beautiful head to stare directly at Lucas

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00:25:52.200 --> 00:25:57.359
and the truck. Then hunger went over fear, and it

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dipped its head again, nibble at the apples. Tightening his

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seat belt, Lucas eased the truck to the center of

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00:26:07.319 --> 00:26:12.319
the road. The deer didn't seem to notice or care.

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He pressed the gas slowly at first, then harder. The

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00:26:20.160 --> 00:26:25.000
deer looked up with only a few seconds left to escape,

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but was frozen in the headlights. Lucas hit the accelerator,

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00:26:30.720 --> 00:26:36.359
colliding with the deer. He heard the sickening thud, followed

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00:26:36.359 --> 00:26:39.960
by the scrape of the body hitting the bumper as

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it flew up and over the hood before landing on

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the pavement. Fuck yeah, Lucas screamed, spittle flying from his lips.

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He slammed on the brakes, coming to a screeching halt.

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He placed the truck in park, opened the door, and

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00:26:59.480 --> 00:27:04.720
ran to the deer. It was twitching and making horrible sounds.

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00:27:05.599 --> 00:27:10.160
It was still alive, struggling to get up, but Lucas

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00:27:10.200 --> 00:27:13.519
could see one of the legs was broken and bleeding,

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00:27:14.200 --> 00:27:18.400
nearly torn from the hip. Blood was pulling around its

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00:27:18.480 --> 00:27:23.759
mangled body. But that wasn't enough for Lucas. He wanted

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00:27:23.799 --> 00:27:31.279
more slick blood, torn flesh, and twisted organs. Lucas was

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00:27:31.359 --> 00:27:34.920
panting as he jumped back into the truck, put it

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00:27:34.960 --> 00:27:39.599
in drive, and floored it. He felt the dull crunch

333
00:27:39.680 --> 00:27:44.240
as the tires rolled over the deer. The brake squealed

334
00:27:44.519 --> 00:27:48.279
as he put the truck into reverse, backing over the deer.

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This time, the tires crushed its skull and tore its

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00:27:53.759 --> 00:27:59.640
flesh from its bones. Its guts smeared across the road.

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00:28:01.240 --> 00:28:05.640
Lucas killed the engine, grabbed his camera and ran to

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00:28:05.759 --> 00:28:11.519
the deer. It was still twitching, barely alive. His hands

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00:28:11.680 --> 00:28:16.880
trembled with excitement as he began snapping photos, each one

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00:28:17.039 --> 00:28:21.759
more beautiful than the first. It was the most incredible

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00:28:21.799 --> 00:28:26.279
work of art he had ever created. Amid the frenzy

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00:28:26.359 --> 00:28:30.440
of his work, he didn't hear the faint cries from

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00:28:30.440 --> 00:28:37.720
the cornfield, a noise that was both animalistic and disturbingly human.

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Was the deer okay? Doris lowered her eyes, then stared

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out the windshield. Her voice was slow and quiet, almost haunting.

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Lucas shook away the vivid memory of killing the deer,

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00:29:01.799 --> 00:29:05.519
wondering why the hell, She asked if the deer was okay?

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00:29:06.559 --> 00:29:09.839
He thought it was just a pointless animal with no

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soul or purpose, even if its meat tasted fowl. Don't know,

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00:29:17.440 --> 00:29:21.880
Lucas lied with a casual shrug. I got out and

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00:29:21.960 --> 00:29:24.680
it was still moving a little, but I didn't know

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00:29:24.720 --> 00:29:28.720
what to do, so I just drove on, leaving it

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on the roadside. He didn't want to share the secret

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00:29:33.160 --> 00:29:38.759
of his creative process that was just for him to savor.

355
00:29:40.400 --> 00:29:43.559
You hit a poor, defenseless animal and left it to

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die on the roadside. Doris's voice wavered with shock. Lucas

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00:29:49.839 --> 00:29:53.400
turned to look at her, her eyes which had been

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a beautiful shade of blue, now appeared almost entirely black,

359
00:29:59.400 --> 00:30:04.920
as if her pupils had dilated, erasing all color. It

360
00:30:05.000 --> 00:30:08.240
had to be the faint glow from the stereo display

361
00:30:08.839 --> 00:30:13.759
playing tricks on him. Lucas glanced into the rear view

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00:30:13.839 --> 00:30:16.799
mirror and was pleased to see the guy in the

363
00:30:16.839 --> 00:30:22.920
back seat staring blankly out the window. Uninterested in their conversation.

364
00:30:24.480 --> 00:30:28.400
He reached for his cigarette in the center console, grabbed

365
00:30:28.440 --> 00:30:33.160
one and placed it between his lips. Do you mind,

366
00:30:33.720 --> 00:30:39.599
he asked. Doris shook her head slowly. Lucas lit the cigarette,

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00:30:40.200 --> 00:30:45.039
taking a long drag to calm his nerves. It was

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00:30:45.359 --> 00:30:50.119
just an animal, he muttered. Wanting to change the subject,

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00:30:50.839 --> 00:30:54.480
He tried to switch the conversation to see if the

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00:30:54.519 --> 00:30:57.279
couple was interested in going to his guest house to

371
00:30:57.400 --> 00:31:00.720
party for a bit and let Dorish show off more

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00:31:00.759 --> 00:31:05.319
of her legs. His mind flicked to the fat check

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00:31:05.359 --> 00:31:09.359
in his pocket. He was no longer afraid of the situation.

374
00:31:10.400 --> 00:31:15.079
He wanted to celebrate his big win. Just an animal?

375
00:31:16.039 --> 00:31:19.000
What the hell do you mean by that? That deer

376
00:31:19.240 --> 00:31:22.839
was a living and breathing organism. It had a family

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00:31:22.960 --> 00:31:28.519
and friends. It even had kids, Doris screamed in rage.

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00:31:29.359 --> 00:31:34.039
Lucas almost laughed at the absurdity. He assumed she was

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00:31:34.079 --> 00:31:38.720
an animal activist or a dirty hippie. He hated hippies.

380
00:31:39.440 --> 00:31:43.400
He nervously took another drag of his cigarette, noticing the

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00:31:43.480 --> 00:31:48.039
sincerity in the girl's eyes. At the same time, he

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00:31:48.160 --> 00:31:52.599
once again heard the man in the back seat breathing heavily.

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It was a deer, just an animal. No harm was done,

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Lucas said, fly He glanced in the rear view mirror

385
00:32:03.319 --> 00:32:07.559
as fear crawled up the back of his neck. He froze,

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00:32:08.279 --> 00:32:11.960
his cigarette hanging from his lips as the heavy breathing

387
00:32:12.039 --> 00:32:16.039
from the back seat turned into a low, guttural growl.

388
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You're not safe yet weakly spooky, will be right back.

389
00:32:25.440 --> 00:32:29.839
Lucas's heart pounded in his chest as sweat pooled under

390
00:32:29.880 --> 00:32:34.759
his armpits. It wasn't just a deer, it was my father,

391
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Doris screamed, her voice trembling with fury. What the fuck,

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Lucas hissed. I think it's time I drop you too off.

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Lucas wanted to say more, but the words died in

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his throat. Lucas's foot eased off the gas as his

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trembling hand reached for the gearshift. Cigarette smoked burned his

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00:33:00.599 --> 00:33:06.920
eyes as Doris's face began to change. Her soft porcelain

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skin faded, replaced with coarse, bristly brown fur. Shocked, his

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cigarette fell from his lips, landing between his legs. He

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00:33:18.680 --> 00:33:22.559
slammed the brakes as her long blonde hair morphed into

400
00:33:22.599 --> 00:33:27.920
a thick brown pelt sprouting from her scalp. Lucas didn't

401
00:33:27.920 --> 00:33:31.119
want to believe his eyes as he stared back at

402
00:33:31.160 --> 00:33:38.559
Doris's unblinking, black as tar eyes. Doris, the woman was

403
00:33:38.680 --> 00:33:43.279
no longer sitting next to him, replaced by something else.

404
00:33:44.400 --> 00:33:48.640
The growling from the back seat increased. Lucas dared to

405
00:33:48.759 --> 00:33:52.160
look into the rear view mirror, just in time to

406
00:33:52.240 --> 00:33:56.319
see the man Doris called Derek now with the face

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00:33:56.839 --> 00:34:04.759
and hoofs of a deer, his mouth stretched unnaturally wide.

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Deer don't have teeth like that, Lucas's mind screamed. The

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00:34:09.880 --> 00:34:16.559
teeth were elongated into jagged, razor sharp points. Dereck lurched forward,

410
00:34:17.159 --> 00:34:22.199
the suit case tumbling aside. Lucas let out a strangled

411
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scream as Dereck's teeth sank into his cheek. Blood rolled

412
00:34:27.800 --> 00:34:31.719
down his neck as the flesh was torn from the bone.

413
00:34:32.760 --> 00:34:36.039
His foot slipped from the brake pedal as the car

414
00:34:36.159 --> 00:34:41.960
inched forward into the ditch next to the cornfield. This

415
00:34:42.320 --> 00:34:48.039
can't be fucking happening. Lucas's mind twisted, but he couldn't

416
00:34:48.079 --> 00:34:54.679
deny what was occurring. The two strange hitchhikers had transformed

417
00:34:54.760 --> 00:35:00.280
before his eyes into deer with razor sharp teeth. We

418
00:35:00.320 --> 00:35:05.320
are more than roadkill. We are alive. We are man

419
00:35:05.800 --> 00:35:11.800
and beast. Doris's distorted voice roared as she bit into

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his side. Lucas cried out in pain, blood dripping from

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00:35:17.159 --> 00:35:22.239
his torn flesh. Derek spoke for the first time. She

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00:35:22.519 --> 00:35:26.679
watched you hit him and run him over again and again.

423
00:35:27.719 --> 00:35:30.440
Had I been there, you would have been dead that night.

424
00:35:31.559 --> 00:35:37.159
We've been watching you and waiting for this moment. Their

425
00:35:37.719 --> 00:35:43.559
dear and people. This was the last coherent thought Lucas

426
00:35:43.599 --> 00:35:48.480
had as Doris and Derek tore him apart with teeth

427
00:35:48.639 --> 00:35:54.480
and claws. They ripped open his stomach, spilling his guts,

428
00:35:54.559 --> 00:35:59.039
just like he had done to Doris's father. When the

429
00:35:59.079 --> 00:36:04.199
grizzly tasked was done, Doris and Derreck began to shift

430
00:36:04.320 --> 00:36:09.440
back to their human forms. Their clothes were tattered and

431
00:36:09.559 --> 00:36:15.800
torn as they sat naked, covered in blood. Doris leaned over,

432
00:36:16.719 --> 00:36:23.880
kissing Dereck gently. Thank you, baby, she whispered through tears.

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00:36:25.000 --> 00:36:29.840
Derek nodded, pulling the suitcase from the back seat. He

434
00:36:29.920 --> 00:36:35.599
ripped Lucas's still warm heart from his chest and placed

435
00:36:35.599 --> 00:36:39.880
it inside the suitcase to bring to the others. As

436
00:36:40.079 --> 00:36:47.239
proof of their revenge. They scattered Lucas's remains, draping his

437
00:36:47.519 --> 00:36:52.760
entrails across the road, recreating the exact scene he had

438
00:36:52.840 --> 00:36:58.920
left behind the night he killed Doris's father. As the

439
00:36:58.960 --> 00:37:04.320
wind swept a cross root seven forty seven, Lucas's shredded

440
00:37:04.400 --> 00:37:11.239
one hundred thousand dollars check fluttered free. Later that night,

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Lucas's mangled corpse would be discovered the most gruesome roadkill ever,

442
00:37:19.519 --> 00:37:30.840
found en Rout seven forty seven in Hobbs End, Ohio. Well,

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00:37:30.880 --> 00:37:34.400
my spookyes, I hope you enjoyed this story from Travis

444
00:37:34.519 --> 00:37:38.079
van Hoos, his first time here with us, but hopefully

445
00:37:38.440 --> 00:37:40.920
not his last. Make sure to type his name in

446
00:37:41.280 --> 00:37:44.159
on Amazon and see all the wonderful books he has

447
00:37:44.239 --> 00:37:47.519
to read, and believe me, some of them are just

448
00:37:47.599 --> 00:37:51.559
as disturbing, if not far more than tonight's story, so

449
00:37:51.639 --> 00:37:53.400
don't miss out on that, and thank you all so

450
00:37:53.519 --> 00:37:56.639
much for joining me tonight. As always, I am appreciative

451
00:37:56.679 --> 00:38:00.440
of the opportunity to share something scary with you, and

452
00:38:00.480 --> 00:38:03.000
I want to remind you if you head to Weeklyspooky

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00:38:03.039 --> 00:38:06.000
dot Com slash Join for as little as one dollar

454
00:38:06.039 --> 00:38:08.920
a month, you support the show directly, and we do

455
00:38:09.039 --> 00:38:13.639
appreciate it, as well as getting exclusive audiobooks, mini series, episodes,

456
00:38:13.960 --> 00:38:16.840
and so much more. In fact, we're getting ready to

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00:38:16.920 --> 00:38:20.000
wind down the current mini series which ends at twenty

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00:38:20.039 --> 00:38:23.239
four parts, but we have another one coming right up.

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So Weeklyspooky dot Com slash Join is the place to

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00:38:27.480 --> 00:38:30.639
go and find out all there is to know this

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00:38:30.800 --> 00:38:33.519
next mini series, I'll give you one hint about it

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00:38:33.599 --> 00:38:36.880
dives a little deeper into the world of the Mirons

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00:38:36.880 --> 00:38:39.639
in Strickfield, So there you go. And I want to

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say an extra special thank you to our Patreon podcast boosters,

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00:38:43.079 --> 00:38:45.119
folks who pay us a little bit more to hear

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00:38:45.159 --> 00:38:46.840
their name at the end of the show, and they

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00:38:46.840 --> 00:38:51.920
are Jessica Fuller, Johnny Nix, Jenny Green, Amber Hansford, Brent McCullough, Karen,

468
00:38:52.000 --> 00:38:54.920
we met, Jack Kerr and Craig Cohen. Thank you all

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00:38:55.280 --> 00:38:56.920
so much, And if you want to hear your name

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00:38:56.960 --> 00:39:00.000
at the end of the show, Headweeklyspooky dot Com slash

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00:39:00.119 --> 00:39:03.159
join at the fifteen dollars a month or higher tier.

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00:39:03.559 --> 00:39:06.159
You get to hear your name out of my spooky,

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00:39:06.639 --> 00:39:12.239
silky voice every single week. But now, my spookies, it's

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time for me to get back to it. We have

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so much more to bring you in the coming months,

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00:39:17.400 --> 00:39:20.199
not only mini series to come, not only episodes of

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00:39:20.239 --> 00:39:23.960
cutting deep into horror, but a few surprises along the

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00:39:24.000 --> 00:39:27.719
way that I think you'll like. So for myself, for

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00:39:27.840 --> 00:39:32.280
my executive producers Rob Fields, Mark Shields and Bobbletopia dot Com,

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00:39:32.320 --> 00:39:35.719
for my producer Dan Wilder and my composer Ray Mattis,

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I will talk at you later. Thank you for listening.

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Make sure to find your way back next week. But

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for now you are safe, trust me,