4 Scary Travel Horror Stories | Wendigo, Ghost Ship, Airplane Horror & Serial Killer

Summer is supposed to be the season of escape. We bord airplanes, follow highways, cross open water, and chase the promise that somewhere beyond the horizon, life might feel just a little freer. But tonight every road leads somewhere hungry. High above the mountains, a doomed flight is preparing to make its final descent. Beneath a winter storm, borne from forbidden appetites, something with antlers is searching for its next meal. Far out at sea, an abandoned ship is alive with thousands of tiny claws. And along a rain soaked highway, a roadside burgher may be the last warm meal anyone ever tastes.

So fasten your seat belt, lock the truck stop bathroom door, and keep your hands away from anything moving inside the walls. These are some of the creepiest road stories from the weekly Spooky Vault. Make sure you're subscribed on your favorite podcast app because every Wednesday there's a brand new scary story waiting to keep Halloween alive all year long. Now, let's celebrate a little summer ween together as we head for our Last flight out. The Last Flight Out by Charles Campbell. Zone one is boarding. Everyone with a boarding pass and zone one are cleared to board flight seven fifty two from Hartsfield Jackson International to Seattle.

Please present your boarding pass and be prepared to have carrions checked if they will not fit in the overhead compartment or under your seat. The pretty petite blonde wearing the Delta name tag smiled as passengers lined up to board the two hundred and eighty four passenger ready bowing seven fifty seven three hundred. Sheila popped out her earbuds the sounds of Maria Maria by Santana emitted from the tiny dangling speakers, and took another glance at her boarding pass, hoping it would magically change zones from four to one. She had two carry ons, and if her luck was per usual, she would end up checking the overhead bag because a few inconsiderate passengers would overstuff their allotments, leaving most of zones three and four in the baggage lurch.

The airport was crowded with your typical mix of people, business types with iPads and laptops in hand, stressed out parents herding up their children, and more than a couple of people that Sheila prayed would not be seated beside her because they would overlap over a quarter of the way into her Economy class seat. Another ten minutes passed before Sheila heard the sweet sound of now boarding Zone four. Sheila made her way past the smiling blonde that scanned her boarding pass and was pleasantly surprised that she wasn't asked to check her carry ons as she cleared the entrance ramp and stepped into the jetliner.

Okay twenty two see, Sheila mumbled as she held her laptop bag out in front of her, with the Duffel bag dangling behind as she navigated down the middle aisle finding her window seat. This really is my lucky day, Sheila thought to herself as she was one of the last passengers to board. In the compartment right above her seat, there was a hole just big enough to stuff her Duffel bag, leaving her laptop to be shoved under the seat in front of her. Sheila took her seat, strapped her belt, and was asleep before the flight attendant gave instructions on emergency exits and safety belts.

Uh, this is the captain speaking. We have now achieved an altitude of ten thousand feet. You may now use approved electronic devices. Please keep your seat belts fastened. Thank you for flying Delta flight seven fifty two to Seattle. Hi. Dear, I hope I didn't wake you. A spindly old man reached across the middle seat and gently tapped on Sheila's arm. She turned to look upon the smiling elderly man, whose hand was still gently placed on her shoulder. His were the hands of a man who'd seen their share of hard labor, the hands of a man that had been on top of many a roof on many a hot summer's day.

No, sir, you didn't wake me. My name's Sheila Baker, she said, as she patted the man's fingers on her right shoulder with her left hand. I'm Otis Thornton. The skinny seventy somethingter smiled at Shila with teeth that, to her surprise, appeared to be all his one hundred percent and not a spot of yellow on them. Pleased to meet you, mister Otis, interrupted, No, mister, just Otis. Sheila smiled and said, ok Otis, looks like we have a little breathing room. Huh. Sheila patted the empty seat that separated them, not that it would have made that much of a difference if he was sitting in the seat right next to her.

Otis was a little over five six and couldn't have been any more than one hundred and twenty five pounds. Soaking wet, he was immediately engaging with light green eyes that shouted kindness. Sheila had to stop herself from reaching out and touching the full head of neatly combed snow white hair. Oh, the pleasure is all mine, Otis started. I don't get to sit beside beautiful women that much any more, well, not since I lost my dearest Ella. The kind eyes told a story that Sheila desperately wanted to hear. Otis, I must say that I am pleased that you will be my company on this flight.

Sheila shuffled in her seat so she was facing ODIs directly and pushed a strand of her hanging brown hair back behind her left ear. Well, thank you, Sheila. I'm an old man that likes to talk. Just let me know if I start to talk your ears off, and I'll be quiet. Well, thank you, Otis. I'm a thirty two year old woman that likes to listen, So talk all you want. You might regret that invitation. Sheila, Otis's eyes lit up with the prospect of sharing his story with her. Try me, okay, here it goes, and Otis began.

It was the summer of nineteen fifty eight when I first laid eyes on Ella Stanton. She was working at the Snow Cap as a roller waitress, and she was very good at it. I remember hearing the wheels of the skates whisked by on the asphalt as she left behind a sweet trail of lightly applied perfume while she rolled to and fro and back and forth. Her auburn hair was like a campfire at sunset, and her skin was fair and as soft as a butterfly's kiss, at least as soft as how I like to imagine a butterfly's kiss.

I was a young man of twenty three when she first smiled and batted her brown eyes at me. You see, I helped my father back in those days. He was a self made, hard working man. Otis Thornton Sor moved to Augusta, Georgia with my mother, Genie, when I was a toddler, way back in the early forties. I take after my father in the way that I'm built spindley and all, but I have my mother's face and my hair used to be sandy blonde in another lifetime. Anyway, back to my angel, I remember my hands ached like the dickens from laying shingles on that hot July day when Ella rolled into my life.

I remember that I ordered a double cheeseburd all the way and a coke float. When Ella said, you sure are skinny, you think you can handle the double? Did I mention my father was there with me? Well he was, and he answered for me because my mouth couldn't speak the words outside of the order that I had just blurted out. Yeah, I've seen him eat four thick pork chops with just as many mashed taters at home and still be hungry, young lady. My father gave her an Eastwood squint with a turned up grin and continued, I'll have the same thing, but I'll take the coke without the float.

From that day on, I visited Ella at least three times a week, mostly without my father, although he would still come along once in a while when he got the craving for the goodness of that double burger. This went along for about two or three months before I got up the courage to court Ella. My father told mother about Ella about two weeks into me, missing too many home cooked meals. Then they were both on to me. My mother wanted grandchildren, as I was an only child. There was something about her lady parts that didn't quite work right after I was born.

I remember that she doated over me enough for four children so much as a boy, all the way up to and through manhood. Ella's mother, Lucille, is where she got that auburn hair and fair skin. Her father, Thomas Stanton, worked at the True Value hardware store, selling hammers, wrenches, nails and what not. All Ella got from him was the brown eyes. I remember them staring through me the first time I came calling on his youngest daughter. Ella had two older sisters that at the time were already married off, Genie to some business man named Earle, and if I recall correctly, Francine, who married a butcher named Steve or Sam something that started with an S.

Anyway, Ella was the last chickadee left, and Daddy Hawk certainly favored her over the two that had flown the coop. Lucille took to me right away. But Thomas Stanton took a lot of coaxing. He had to meet my father to gauge my stock in upbringing. I could tell from our first handshake that he favored the callous that had developed on my hand. He knew from that first shake that I didn't have the hands of a paper pusher or god forbid, an insurance salesman. Mister Stanton knew I came by an honest wage from the sweat of my brow.

That was a wind for me right up front. Even with that, it still took coaxing. Sheila, I hope I'm not boring you so far. Otis not at all. It's the opposite. I don't want you to stop until you tell me everything. It's a long flight, and your story has me hooked. Sheila could feel the stress of her life melting away as she listened to the tail of Otis and Ella Okay, then and Otis continued. So Ella and I married almost a year after I met her father for the first time. About a year after that, we welcomed our baby girl, Marilyn, into the world.

Marilyn turned out to be a pediatrician. All of my work on all those roofs with my father did that. That's something I'm very proud of. Ella's father never saw our second child, Otis. He died of a heart attack in his backyard weeding when Ella was pregnant with little Otis. We went back and forth on the name for a bit, but my father wanted to keep the Otis name going. And the truth of it was, Thomas Stanton wasn't around to object, and my lovely mother in law, Lucille, well, she just fell to pieces and her baby girl, My wife, my sweet Ella, wasn't far behind on the falling to piece's train.

On top of it, she was pregnant with little Otis, with a toddler at her feet, and the stress of it all was almost more than she could bear. To tell the truth, looking back on it now, it was, and I know this may sound selfish, almost more than I should have been able to bear. But my father raised a pillar of strength. And that's not just me boasting my dear I truly was like a block of granite in those days. Thomas's funeral was on September twenty second in nineteen sixty two, and little Otis was born just two days later, on the twenty fourth.

In those days. Folks hadn't heard of anything like postpartum depression. We just called it the baby blues, and Ella's father passing combined with it didn't give little Otis much of a chance. I just didn't know it back then. Ella's sisters came down for the funeral, but they sure didn't hang around to comfort Lucille, let alone the birth of their new nephew. I guess they were grieving in their own way, but they sure as hell got out of Dodge before the soil in their father's grave had even settled. I think the guy whose first name began with an S was behind Francine's early departure.

I just don't think Genie was strong enough to hang around a minute longer than she felt was required. It was a few months after little Otis was born that Lucille started to come out of it, and it was all due to little Otis. The baby blues and grief still had its lock on my darling Ella. I had to keep food on the table, so I stayed on rooftops with my father. My mother kept little Otis about a quarter of the time, and Lucille kept him the rest of the time. My mother could see that Lucille needed that baby more than she did, and although I could see it hurt her to give up her time with little Otis, she knew if Lucille couldn't hang on to that baby, then she wouldn't be far behind mister Stanton taking up residence in Bellevue Memorial Gardens.

A big thing that helped was mother did spend a lot of time with sweet Maryland. Sheila. Next, is the hard part. You still want to listen? Otis? I don't know what to say. Sheila was transfixed on the old man with the green eyes and calloused hands. Just then, flight attendant susie Q from who knows where interrupted them. Peanuts are cookies? Excuse me, Sheila asked, because absolutely nothing, Flight Attendant susie Q said registered in her brain. Otis smiled with all his real teeth on display and said, I like the salty peanuts please, and a coke if you've got one in that cart.

I do, replied susie C. Miss anything for you. Sheila answered, salty peanuts and a coke. Otis tipped the red and white can in Sheila's direction as susie Q rattled by, and he asked, shall I continue, Yes, Sheila was too far in now she had to hear the rest of it, and Otis continued. Little Otis had the colic pretty bad, and I was up many a night tending to him. Because of Ella's delicate state. My days with Father always started early and with Little Otis. If I could get four straight hours of good sleep on any given night, that was a blessing.

Most nights it was closer to three hours, and sometimes two. It was November eighteenth, and it started with a cold rain. Ella was clearing up the supper dishes, Marylyn was playing with her dolls on the living room floor, and Little Otis was fast asleep on my belly. As I watched Cronkite fill us in on the state of the world. I can still recall the smell of a fresh rain cropping up, and then the steady pelting on the roof. Before Cronkite signed off, I was in the firm grip of the sandman. When I awoke. Little Otis was no longer taking breaths on my chest.

At first I thought nothing of it. Ella had taken him to his crib and put him down for the night. A fresh faced carson was in the middle of cracking a joke when I turned the knob on the old Zenith. I walked up the stairs to our bedroom, and I was just as careful and quiet as I could be with every step. I had just gotten a gift in the few hours of sleep I had received in front of the television, and if I was quiet, that night was going to be a six or seven hour snoozethon for me.

I stopped just outside of Little Otis's door and pushed it open, when a very real and sudden sense of dread filled my body. Sheila, this is where I could have made a difference if I had only known. Ella was sitting in the rocker facing the window in the far corner of Little Otis's room. The fire truck red painted walls made it very dark at night. I remember the sound of the rocker as it moved front and back while Ella gently rocked Little ODIs. The window was cracked just a hair and a little chill filled the room, but Ella just kept rocking with Little Otis in her arms.

I thought maybe she had finally gotten over the baby blues. I remember that I smiled, relieved that my sense of dread was a false alarm and closed the door as quietly as I had opened it, and did a bed check on Marilyn. She was curled up with her raggedy andl thumb firmly placed in her mouth. So I went to bed. Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. We are about to experience some severe turbulence. Please remain seated with your belts fastened until further notice. It's going to get pretty choppy, so make sure your belongings are secured.

Thank you for flying Delta flight seven fifty two to Seattle. The flight attendants made a quick walk down the aisles, tugging on seat belts, flipping up tray tables, and checking in with the folk seated at the emergency exits to make sure that they were still willing and able to perform their assigned duties if needed. All of a sudden, as if on cue, the seven fifty seven shuddered violently, It sounded like it was getting nailed with a million paintballs, and took a sudden drop in elevation. Flight Attendant susie Q shrieked as she momentarily left her feet and if the drop had been just a couple more feet, her head would have been caved in by the plain ceiling.

Another stroke of luck for susie Q was that she brushed up against the aisle seat that sure handed Otis occupied as wade and momentum took her up. Otis grabbed her by the waistband in her skirt with his steel grip and pulled her back down. Susie Q fell hard on both knees from the sudden descent, but it was preferable to smashing her skull. She crawled on hands and knees until she got to her seat. Her knees were all skinned up and blood was oozing from the stocking hose, but she made it to her seat and secured her safety belt.

The creaking and cracking noises inside the flying capsule started to subside as the turbulence began to settle. This is the captain speaking. We aren't out of the woods yet. I anticipate we'll hit more chop before we settle back in. Remain seated with your seat belts fastened. Please, Otis, Are you okay? What you did there? Catching that girl? That was amazing. Sheila was falling in love with her elderly companion I'm fine, dear. I've been on many of these flights in my lifetime, and I've seen worse. We'll be fine. I was on a plane that almost crashed once, but that's another story.

You you want me to keep going. There's more to tell about me and Ella. ODIs gazed at Sheila with you have to let me finish the story eyes. I would like to hear the rest. What happened to baby Otis? I rolled out of bed and remembered it felt like I stepped on a thousand sewing needles standing at attention on the hardwood floor. My hands might have seventy plus years of callous but my feet are still tender to this day. Ella was lying there, still lost in her dreams, as I shuffled across the floor to grab my bath robe.

I generally slept in my undershorts and nothing else. It was colder than usual that morning, and the reason was apparent when I pulled the robe over my shoulders. The window on the left side of our bedroom was fully opened, and there was a little puddle on the floor directly underneath. So I closed the source of the morning's frosty rise and turned back to find a towel. I remember moving into the hallway looking just a moment to check in on Marylyn, and she was still nestled under her blankets. So I continued down the hallway toward the towel closet.

Just before I got there, I noticed that the door to Little Otis's room was completely closed. We never left the door to his room completely closed, so this got my attention right quick. My breath got shorter the closer that I moved to Little Otis's door. The white knob seemed to look at me, daring me to turn it, but almost warning me not to. I hesitated as I expected it to grow a mouth and say, Otis, I wouldn't turn me if I were you. But I did turn it, and then I stepped in. Every window in the room was wide open, all four of them.

The room was a literal ice box. Water was everywhere, much more than any single towel could pick up. Water splashed under my feet as I sprinted toward Little Otis's crib. I slipped in the water when I made a stubborn stop, and both my feet flung out from underneath me. I landed with my ass on the floor and my feet sticking out from under the crib. I grabbed the bottom of the crib rail and pulled myself up, shedding the soaked bathrobe as I did. His little green eyes were staring up at me, and his mouth was slightly open, as if he were still trying to suckle.

I reached down to grab my son, and his blue body was cold and stiff. I'll never forget the sound it made when I pulled my blanket wrapped baby from the crib mattress. It was almost like the sound of pulling apart velcrow. I was looking into little Odis's hungry eyes when I heard Ella mumble I'm sorry in the doorway. Sheila, this was all my fault, it really was. I knew better than to leave her alone with little Otis the night before. Lack of sleep overruled rational thinking. Not that I'm using that as an excuse, because I'd gotten a good chunk of sleep for me that night before I went to bed.

I never turned to look at her. I recall saying that I would take care of it, and she needed to leave the room while she still could. She was wailing as she walked back down the hallway. Little Marilyn was still snuggled in her blankets. Oh my god, Otis, what did you do? Sheila's hands were trembling at this point, but she didn't notice. Otis had her all the way in. Well, Sheila, I loved my Ella more than anything. And this is awful to say out loud, but I loved Ella even more than little Otis or Marilyn, and I would give my life without question for any of them.

The plane suddenly dropped again, and the lights in the flying pill box flickered. The sounds of nervous passengers rose, and there was the cry of a baby somewhere about ten rows up. The plane rattled like chattering teeth. The flight attendants were breezing through the aisles, holding the sides of the seats as they moved through, trying to make sure that all the passengers were secured. This is the captain speaking. The chop we're experiencing is severe. Everyone remain seated. Flight attendants included everyone in your seat and stay there. If you have to use the restroom, I would suggest you hold it if at all possible.

This turbulence is unpredictable and we are not out of it yet. No, thank you for flying with Delta flight seven fifty two after this update. This update was to keep your ass in your seat and don't move, So says El Capitan Otis. Sheila reached out and grabbed him by the tips of his fingers with both of her hands. Please finish the story, are you sure, dear? I hear some fear in the captain's voice now, so he has my attention. ODIs pulled both of her hands into his, and Sheila nodded her head yes, and Otis continued.

Lucille was at the funeral, and she said maybe two words to me. The entire time she was there. There was definitely blame in her eyes, and it was always directed at me. I suspect that she went to her grave thinking I killed that baby, and in a way she was kind of right. My father and mother were there. My father never left my side for a second. My mother was all over the place. She was babbling incoherently for most of the service and clung to my father's shoulders like a frightened kitten. My father stayed stoic and strong for me to show me how to be a man.

I appreciated that more than he ever knew. Neither one of Ella's sisters showed up. I'm sure mister s had something to do with Francine's no show. Genie, I never knew why she didn't make it. Marilyn was still a toddler and she noticed her baby brother was gone, but she was still young enough to forget. There was a brief investigation, but the baby's death was determined to be accidental bordering on negligence, and charges were within an eyelash of being filed. There were questions on why the windows were cracked. They were all just cracked when the investigator showed up, and there wasn't a drop of water on the floor.

The windows, even being cracked just a little in an enclosed space with no heat, was enough to kill an infant when temperatures dropped the way they had. The reason given for the cracked windows was the strong scent of pine, a scent that I made sure was there when they showed up. Remember, I loved Ella more than anything, and I was going to protect her at all costs, even if that meant going to prison. After the funeral, Lucille showed up on Christmas, Thanksgiving, and a couple of Maryland's birthdays, but every time she laid her eyes on me.

I could feel the flames of her hate. Then all at once we lost contact with her. She moved away in the night one day, and we never heard from her again. To this day, I don't know where she ended up or where she's buried. I suppose in this day and age, I could find out, But why raise old ghosts. I had a long talk with Ella, and after that we only spoke about little Otis. Every September twenty fourth, we'd get a cake, candles and say a prayer for our lost child. We shared the celebration with Marilyn every year, but as far as she was concerned, her brother's death was a tragic accident.

I saw Genie and Francine a couple more times before I lost Ella, and both times weren't planned. Genie was passing through Augusta with her businessman husband and popped in both times. Francine came to get away from mister s the butcher once and she came looking to borrow money one other time. Then about this time last year, I lost Ella. Oxygen masks dropped and people were screaming and crying. On the seven fifty seven, the plane was in a sharp descent, and for Otis and Sheila, everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. Sheila, do you hear the baby, ODIs screamed over the commotion.

The oxygen masks were floating in front of his face. Otis, put on your mask, Sheila screamed, leaning over, discarding the rule to put your own mask on before helping others. ODIs swatted her hands away. Sheila, I have to get the baby, ODIs screamed as he unbuckled his safety belt. It sounded like a freight train was barreling down the track, positioned to take them out. Heads were tucked between knees. Flight attendants were screaming at people to remain seated. The plane was almost in a full dive. ODIs pulled himself from the floor with his strong hands and moved from seat to seat.

The sounds of babies cries got closer with each seat he passed. Most people were praying, some had their phones out, texting or trying to call their loved ones. He could hear Sheila screaming behind him, begging him to come back, but ODIs pressed on. He was there. ODIs gripped the side of seat A and looked into the green eyes staring back at him. Little ODIs smiled at his father, and his father smiled back. Otis kept his grip on the front of the seat with his right hand and unbuckled the child with his left. He lifted his son close to him.

All of the screams went away. He could only hear Sheila. ODIs turned and, holding his son in one hand, made his way back to seat twenty two A. The pilots were both unconscious. The cabin pressure alarm went unnoticed as they tried to get the plane back on course, and it was too late when they fell into La La land. Sheila, meet my son, little ODIs? What how Sheila started? There was a bright flash of light and all of the shadows burned away into the white. The plane exploded into the side of the Cascade Mountains just outside of Seattle.

Then Sheila awoke and it began again. Hi, dear, I hope I didn't wake you. A spindly old hand reached across the middle seat and gently tapped on Sheila's arm. As she turned to look upon the smiling, elderly man still touching her. His hands were the hands of a man who had seen their fair share of hard labor, the hands of a man that had been on top of many a roof on many a hot summer's day. We'll view memorial gardens. Augusta, Georgia. Ella and Marilyn were at Otis and Little Otis's graveside. Marilyn was standing behind her mother's wheelchair with a hand on her frail mother's shoulder.

It had been a little over a year since they lost Otis in that horrible plane crash, and Otis had lost Ella and Marilyn. Marilyn, I have something to tell you, Ella started, What is it? Mother asked Marilyn. Let's go to the snow cap and I'll share it all. Ella wiped a tear from her eye. Okay, Mother, goodbye, Daddy and baby brother. I love you. Marilyn pushed the wheelchair up the incline as they passed. A middle aged couple smiled as they walked by, holding hand. The tall man and his wife stopped two plots away from Otis and Little Otis.

The marker read Sheila Alice Baker, A bright light that will never burn out. February twenty eighth, nineteen eighty to November eighteenth, twenty twelve, be Careful what You Eat by Rob Fields. Gibson Pryor was getting close to Garnet Miron's house on the west end of the Pendleton Village limits. He was on cloud nine when he was given the extra large pepperoni and extra cheese pizza to deliver to her and her four friends who started for Pendleton High's girls basketball team. Even though he admired all the girls, he most had his heart set on Garnet herself. Gibson's heart pounded with anticipation as he pulled into Garnet's long driveway.

There were two other vehicles parked with her truck. He cut the motor and got out with the pizza warming bag in hand. He reached the front door and rang the bell. Seconds later, the door opened to reveal a majorly dressed down Garnet Miron. Gibson saw she was wearing just a sexy robe, but could easily see her ginger hair and tan skin in kind. She was checking him out as she smiled and let him enter. Gibson couldn't believe when he saw the other four girls also wearing sexy robes. Before he could tell Garnet what was owed for the pizza, the team captain herself began rubbing up against him.

Mm he just smells so dreamy, she told her friends. The other girls soon joined their captain. They too, complimented Gibson on how wonderful he smelled. Gibson couldn't believe the Pendleton guardswomen starters were dripping all over him. He composed himself and again tried to tell them what was owed for the pizza. Garnet gave him an approving smile. MM, you got any other deliveries, baby, Yeah, stay with us, Caprice dance and added, He'll give you a tip you'll never forget. Lakota Diamond. Further added, then he saw the pearly smiles of Skeeter, Victors and Hanley Paulson and wondered if he was asleep and dreaming.

The girls took his hands and guided him to the indoor swimming pool area. Soon all five girls turned and faced him. Gibson gasped and nearly dropped the pizza bag as the entire basketball team undid their robes and let them drop to the ground to reveal five incredibly hot naked bodies. Skeeter took Gibson's pizza bag and set it on a deck chair. Then she helped Hanley undress him. As the other three girls jumped into the pool, Gibson knew his coworkers at Chet's Pizza would never believe him. Soon he was just as naked as the girls join us, Skeeter purred gently raking his chest with her long fingernails.

Gibson let Skeeter and Hanley take his hands, and together they jumped into the pool. When they came up, Garnet appeared in front of him and started caressing his ripped chest. Gibson felt his heart racing even faster when Skeeter came into him and began melding her lips with his. As they shared their tongues, he could feel the other girl's touching and caressing him. If this truly was a dream, he did not want to wake up. However, Gibson's dream turned into a living nightmare when he felt the sudden sharp pain on his shoulder blade. When he screamed into Skeeter's mouth, her teeth clamped down hard on his tongue.

Gibson continued screaming in Skeeter's mouth as he felt more bites. Gibson finally managed to shove Skeeter away, but now his tongue was hanging out of her mouth. Blood was already staining the water from Gibson's injuries. He also saw the girls chewing on the pieces of flesh they had bitten off of him, blood trailing down their chins and breasts. When Gibson tried to flee, Lakota suddenly sprang on him. Then her friends reached him again. Garnet and Handley pressed their fingers against his stomah until they easily penetrated it. Gibson gasped and barely got a final scream out when the two girls pulled his chest and stomach open.

Blood really stained the water now. After Skeeter finished eating Gibson's tongue, she moved to the vacant left arm and began to dine on that. Between the five girls, they each claimed a section of Gibson's body. It had taken them nearly an hour to devour the hunky pizza guy, until only the skeleton itself remained. The girls looked at each other, now their bellies full and satisfied. Calling Chet's pizza and requesting this Adonis was a great call, Skeeter Lakota complimented, Hey, the meteor the tastier right. Skeeter returned, he was so yummy, Garnet smiled. You can still see after all this time, our hell Weaver promised us years ago when we made our pact with her, we just have to keep eating the flesh of only other mortals to get our heart's desires.

And we started with becoming the girls basketball team to beat in the eerie Shore Conference. No, the state, Caprice corrected her. Yes, we've been winning the state championship since sophomore year, Hanley gushed, and we're still undefeated. We already clinched a playoff spot. Then there's the full ride scholarships to Shore City State, Lakota added, Where we'll continue our dominance, Garnet assured them. Then she chuckled. My bloodline in Strickfield banished me from the gated community when they learned I had a hell Weaver Bible. My family doesn't believe in her, only the family magics. The fools just don't understand that our hell Weaver super all of that.

But why bring us into this wonderful thing? Caprice asked, You could have easily kept this all to yourself. Garnet smiled, because it would be very, very lonely. Also, you lovelies came into this pact with me of your own free wills. The others couldn't argue with Garnet on that. Then Lakota pointed to the deck chair with the black bag on it. What about that disgusting thing? Garnet smiled, Oh that. She swam to the side and got out of the pool. She opened the bag and pulled out the pizza. Oh Boys. Just then, two large rottweilers came trotting into the pool area.

Garnet opened the pizza box and placed it down in front of them. The girls laughed as the dogs enjoyed their delicious treat. We'd better get this mess cleaned up, Caprice suggested. Garnet walked to a control panel and flipped a few switches to activate the powerful filtration system. After the girls removed the skeleton and disposed of it, they all went to take showers. The girls had done very well at basketball practice and were playing the first of their two games for the weekend. They had no problem dominating the Strickfield High Villagers on Friday night. When they were playing their Saturday night game, against the Strickfield Academy Sacraments.

However, that was when they met Danica McMichaels. The Pendleton guardswomen had no problem besting McMichael's teammates, but the captain herself was easily getting around the guardswomen's entire starting lineup. The guards women heard McMichael's was good, but they didn't know she was that good. However, the guards women held off the Sacraments to the win by only one point. Danica McMichael's had clearly taken the guardswomen to the limit, but Garnet Mirn only smiled as she called her girls over and explained her plan. Danica had finished her shower and was ready to leave the locker room to join her teammates on the bus back to Strickfield.

Soon, she had that awful feeling she was being watched. Her feeling proved right when Lakota Diamond blocked her way. Normally, Danica wasn't afraid to get in another girl's face, but Lakota's predatory stare made her feel scared. When Danica turned to flee, she saw Caprice dancing like Lakota, she also had a predatory stare on her face. Now, the rest of the Pendleton guardswomen had surrounded her. Okay, look, you guys won, Danica stammered, what what do you want you? Skeeter Vickers replied simply, you made us really work for our win. Henley Paulson said, playing that game sure made us work up an appetite.

Garnet smiled a predatory smile. Now, okay, girls, let's eat. Danica attempted to flee past Lakota and Handley, but she turned and fled into the showers. Caprice turned the water on as her teammates began undressing. Soon, the naked guardswomen converged on Danica and began ripping her clothes off. She tried screaming and calling for help, but it was all in vain. The last scream Danica McMichael's would ever belt out would be when the Pendleton guardswomen bit into her. Danica's blood flowed all over the shower floor and down the drain. Then the guardswomen grabbed Danica's limbs, pulled with their supernaturally enhanced strength until she came apart in their hands.

Each of the guardswomen now had their own section of Danica McMichael's all to themselves. They sat in the shower and enjoyed their shares fondly. As they ate, they felt the power again as they absorbed Danica's strength and attributes. Now that Danica had been assimilated among the many others these girls had consumed, they knew they would have no further problems winning the rest of their season. The following week, Skeeter was working out at the Pendleton Community Center. She couldn't help showing off as she bench pressed much of the same weight as what the more muscular guys were lifting.

She still couldn't believe this incredible gift that Garnet Miran shared with the others. Herself included, wow, the more people we eat, the strong we become. When the girls had first turned to their cannibalistic lifestyle back in the seventh grade, Skeeter had actually been a diehard vegan. In fact, it had taken quite a bit of convincing from her friends to get her to finally embrace the pact between them and hell Weaver. Once she had taken her first bites of human flesh, she couldn't believe how amazingly delicious their own people truly were. Skeeter's hunger and cravings grew to where she consumed her own family one at a time.

In fact, for this same reason, the others came to live with Garnet as well. With the exception of their captain, the other girls had eaten their families and assimilated their strength. As Skeeter continued pumping iron effortlessly, she loved the attention the guys were giving her. Either they admired her sexy body, the fact she could lift that kind of weight, or maybe both. But soon one of the regulars who came to the gym during the evening hours, a biker girl, didn't appreciate the attention Skeeter was getting. The girl threw her helmet at Skeeter to break her concentration and nearly make her drop the very heavy barbell on herself.

It took Skeeter much willpower and determination to push the weight back up and on to the prongs. Skeeter quickly sprang up and moved to confront the biker just what the fuck is your problem? When the biker pushed Skeeter, she flew over her workout bench and landed hard on the floor. She couldn't believe the strength from this biker girl. When the biker removed her jacket and flexed her muscles, Skeeter became very hungry in imagining how delicious her flesh would taste. Skeeter continued her rigorous workout, keeping an eye on the biker check. At first, she considered cornering her in the jym shot, but there were too many people around.

No, she would have to enjoy the biker in a more private setting. Skeeter followed the biker back to her trailer, about four miles outside of Pendleton. Skeeter hid her car and made her way to the trailer. She figured the biker must have been going to bed, since she never turned her lights on. Skeeter reached the door and was ready to pick the lock. Much to her surprise, the door was already unlocked. She smiled eagerly as she slipped inside the trailer. Skeeter moved around the small living room and quickly confirmed the biker wasn't there. Seeing nobody in the kitchenette, she turned and walked to the back.

Carefully, she peeked inside the bathroom. At first, she wondered why the biker wasn't taking a shower, Then she determined she must have taken one at the gym after her work out. Before Skeeter could ponder anything else, she was suddenly attacked from behind and found herself flying backwards into the one room she hadn't checked yet. So glad you dropped by, babe, the biker purred in a deadly tone. He'll make a great protein shake. Suddenly, Skeeter felt scared. Did this biker also have a copy of the hell Weaver Bible? Did she also have a pact to where she was eating other mortals and gaining strength and power from them the way Skeeter and her fellow guardswomen were No.

Skeeter yelled, determined not to be eaten herself. What is this? The biker cried in surprise, as Skeeter lifted her up and ran her into a nearby wall. The two of them hit the wall together and toppled over a wooden table. Skeeter was quickly back on her feet and ready to attack the biker again, but the biker was already on her shoulder, tackled and taken down to the floor. I will have you, the biker declared, moving to pin Skeeter down. Fuck you, Skeeter roared, reaching up and grabbing the biker's throat. The two girls continued to fight, wrecking many things in the biker's bedroom.

After Skeeter felt several sharp scratches on her abdomen that felt like razor blades, she became scared and suddenly grabbed the biker by her throat again. Then Skeeter slammed her down hard onto her broken table. The biker shrieked loudly and wasn't getting up. Skeeter saw the biker was impaled on one of the wooden table legs. Seeing her chance, Skeeter moved to the prone biker and took hold of her arm. What the the fuck do you think you're doing, the biker demanded. When Skeeter bit a huge chunk of flesh from her arm, Skeeter's taste buds came to life like they had never came to life before.

As Skeeter tasted the flesh, blood, and muscle she had taken from the biker, she knew she needed to have more. After swallowing her first bite, she bit off another chunk. However, the biker wasn't finished yet. She was still strong enough to fight back against Skeeter and pushed her away. Skeeter was too determined to let the best meal she had ever tasted get away. Remembering how strong she was from all of the mortals she had eaten, she used her strength to overpower the biker. This time. Skeeter sank her teeth deep into the biker's throat, so deep that she yanked hard back, taking a huge chunk of meat with her.

Skeeter moaned seemingly in ecstasy. She had never tasted meat like this before now, not even from any of her past victims. If she had to give a comparison, the meat she had eaten from other mortals tasted like seasoned beef, But this biker, her meat lasted as though it had been soaked in the most delicious marinade. The biker groaned in agony as Skeeter continued to eat from her. Skeeter just couldn't stop. Even her stomach didn't seem to protest this all you can eat buffet for one. Skeeter kept eating and eating. Eventually she reached the biker's heart and saw that the wooden table leg had gone completely through it.

Skeeter kept eating and eating until there was nothing left of the biker girl, but her skeletal bones, she moaned as she stood up, feeling how satisfied her stomach was at the best meal she had ever eaten. I can't believe I actually wanted to be vegan, she thought, as she went into the bathroom and turned the light on. She got her bloody clothes off and stepped into the shower. After taking a long while to clean herself well, she helped herself to the biker's clothes before going back to Garnet's house. When Skeeter walked in, the other girls were in the living room watching TV.

Garnet was sitting in a recliner and looked her way hungry. We just shared a DoorDash driver saved you your share. Skeeter shook her head a little. No, I'm fine, maybe maybe later. Are you serious, Skeeter, Lakota asked with surprise. You're always hungry. Maybe later, Skeeter repeated, as she held herself. You okay, Garnet asked, you look really pale. Just then, Skeeter was confronted by Garnet's two large rotweilers. The dogs growled and then barked loudly at her. Hendrix Marley, what the hell's wrong? With you too, Garnet demanded getting up and going to them. No matter how many times Garnet ordered the dogs to behave they would not obey her and continued barking at Skeeter.

Garnet gave her a look that said she needed to make herself scarce. Skeeter inched away from the dogs and ducked into the bathroom. After closing the door, she began to wonder why the dogs turned against her. She remembered how much they loved eating from her hands. She turned to the shower and reached out to put the hot water on full blast. Then she stopped herself when she heard the dogs barking louder and coming close to the door. Skeeter shivered as she moved to the window and opened it. To her surprise, she was no longer feeling so cold as the chilly, wintry winds washed over her.

She quickly climbed out and got as far away from the house as she could. Then she felt her t shirt ripping in the back. The next afternoon, when basketball practice was over, Caprice was out searching for Skeeter. The other girls couldn't believe she never returned home. She hadn't even gone to school. At least the dogs had stopped barking up a storm. When Skeeter had left, Caprice kept calling out for Skeeter and getting no replies. Then she remembered Skeeter sometimes hid in the cave underneath the waterfall at Crystal River. Thanks to her enhanced speed and stamina, she made it to the river in just a matter of minutes.

She moved along the side until she came to the falls. Then she dropped down and dashed through the water to enter the cave. Skeeter, you in here, Caprice called out. A moment later, Caprice saw someone approaching Skeeter. She shivered a little at how cold the blowing winds were. Caprice gasped when she saw two glowing red eyes staring back at her. She gulped when the naked female form emerged. She had long, ebony hair and chalk white skin, with huge antlers and a furry tail. Caprice immediately recognized her Skeeter. Oh God, what happened to you? Caprice choked out.

Skeeter raised her sharp claws and sprang at her. Caprice turned to run, but couldn't get back through the waterfall in time Wendy go Skeeter hissed in a deadly whisper. Skeeter No, Caprice screamed. When this creature that was formerly Skeeter Vickers bit down hard into her shoulder, Caprice staggered a little and then fell. She remained motionless as Skeeter ate the large chunk of her flesh, muscle, and bone. When she finished, Skeeter leapt at the rest of her meal and proceeded to devour it, and just outside the waterfall, it began to snow hard. Hours later, Garnet, Lakota, and Hanley made it back to the house after having no luck in searching for Skeeter.

Only now they quickly determined Caprice wasn't among them. After several unanswered texts from both Caprice and Skeeter, the girls became very worried. It was night and it had already snowed a good five inches. Of course, wintry weathers such as that was common in Feldner County. Garnet noticed that her two rottweilers were whimpering in fear. She knelt down next to her babies. Seriously, what is up with you two? Yesterday I couldn't shut you guys up for shit, and now you're acting like I'm going to whip your asses. Suddenly, the back door flew open, hard and fast.

A huge gust of wintry winds and snow followed. As the girls moved to shut the door, they heard something off in the distance. Wendy go. The girls looked at each other, Well, what the fuck was that? Lakota stammered, Let's get this door closed. Garnet stammered back, not sure she really wanted to know. The girls reached the door and managed to push it shut again. Garnet locked it up tight. That didn't keep the sounds of the wind out or what was calling out to them. Wendy go. The girls were really scared now. They moved back into the living room.

Then Hanley smelled something shit Hendrix just peed all over the floor. The dogs were really cowering with fear. As Garnet moved to try and comfort them, the back door flew open again. Wendy go. The sound was almost to the house now. The girls ran to the door to try and secure it again. As they nearly pushed it back into place, she saw the frame was broken out where the dead bolt was installed and knew the door wouldn't close and lock properly. Again. Seriously, what the fuck is going on out there? Hanley muttered, We've never had a winter storm like this before.

It's not the storm that's worrying me. Wendy go now. The sound was right at the door. The girls screamed when they saw the blood stained face looking in right at them. Suddenly it ripped the door away. Then it grabbed Hanley with amazing speed. No no, were the last words Hanley Paulsen would ever say. As the creature pulled her outside, Garnet and Lakota turned and ran. They stopped and looked outside to see Skeeter had bitten a huge chunk of flesh and muscle out of Hanley's neck and shoulders. As blood slowly ran down Skeeter's snowy white skin, she smiled with sinister delight right at them.

Whendy go. Like before, it came out like a whisper that somehow seemed to cut through the noise of the harsh winds. Garnet went to grab the hell Weaver Bible. Knowing she couldn't secure the tome before Skeeter would reach her, she made a quick decision to grab the parchment paper with the hell Weaver's packed as she and Lakota both fled and escaped out the front door. When they reached Garnet's truck, she insisted Lakota drive, it's your truck. Lakota protested, I can't drive it the way you can. I need to read through our pact. Garnet returned, there has to be a reason why Skeeter turned into that thing.

Don't worry, the four wheel drive is locked in. Lakota reluctantly got into the driver's seat and started the truck. She shifted and floored the accelerator. What the fuck happened to Skeeter? Garnet turned on the compartment light and read through the pack that each of them had signed in their own blood. From the time Garnet had found her copy of the hell Weaver Bible, she could immediately read the language. Now she was reading over all the paragraphs regarding the girl's packed with hell Weaver. Finally, Garnet found a rather interesting clause. We're only supposed to eat other mortals, Garnet told Lakota, eating anything that's not mortal.

You think Skeeter ate someone who wasn't mortal, Lakota guessed, remember how she didn't want her share of our door dash driver. She gulped, Well, Skeeter's sure hungry. Now, Wendy go. They heard Skeeter whisper in the woods. That has to be the explanation. Garnet stressed. We've eaten so many people and we all turned out fine. We were always careful, We've all played by our hell Weaver's rules. Skeeter must have been really hungry, Lakota guessed. Even though she's a skinny thing, she always had a bigger appetite compared to the rest of us. What could she have eaten?

The girls had little time to speculate when they saw Skeeter standing in the road directly in front of them. Her red eyes glowed brightly, her rows of sharp teeth gleamed in the headlights as she stared at them. Wendy go. Skeeter whispered again. Lakota floored the gas and drove right at Skeeter, who didn't seem to care in the least shit. Koda shrieked when Skeeter ascended into the air to let the truck pass underneath her. She looked over her shoulder when she heard and felt Skeeter land in the back. Suddenly, Skeeter's clawed hand crashed through the back window and grabbed Lakota's neck.

Garnet help, Lakota, screamed. Garnet dropped the hell Weaver packed and grabbed Lakota to try and help her. Even with their enhanced strength from all the mortals they had eaten, Skeeter's new strength made theirs look simply just mortal. The driver's side door was ripped open, then Skeeter released Lakota long enough to grab her with her other hand and yank her out. Lakota, Garnet screamed. Lakota Diamond only screamed briefly, as if it was cut off when Skeeter began to devour her. Garnet moved to get behind the wheel, but she was too late. Even a four wheel drive viavehicle's worst enemy, his ice.

The truck began to turn until it spun around a few times before it went into a curve and forced the vehicle to overturn a few times. The truck came to a final stop on its top. Garnet secured the hell Weaver, packed and escaped from the truck. She groaned when she felt the pain on various parts of her body. As far as she knew, none of her bones were broken, but she was sure she was bruised. Garnet knew it wouldn't be long before Skeeter would be finished with Lakota. But where could she hide. She was out in the open with no houses in the distance.

She wasn't even near the Pendleton village limits. She focused and ran with everything she had. It was a struggle as the heavy winds and snow made their impact known, especially since she wasn't properly dressed for the weather or even wearing a jacket. Garnet knew she didn't have any more time to study hell Weaver's Pact to see if there was a way to stop or help Skeeter. Finally, she released it into the storm. Garnet remembered she was a mirror. Even though she had been banished for her belief in hell Weaver, she was still a mirror. She still knew the mirror ways, and she wasn't going to die a coward's death.

If she was dying this night, she was going down fighting. She knew she didn't stand a chance in hell against Skeeter, but she was going down like a true miran. She turned around and screamed into the winds Okay, Skeeter, come and get me. I'm right here, you bitch, Wendy go. Skeeter's cries still sent shivers down her back, and before Garnet could think about it, Skeeter was directly in front of her. Garnet screamed. When she saw all the blood on her mouth, hands, and down the front of her naked body. All of it belonged to her former friends, her family through their bond with hell Weaver.

Skeeter smiled and showed her sharp teeth. Wendy Go. Garnet screamed and dove right at Skeeter. She took this creature into the snowy ground and threw everything she had into punching her face again and again. Die God, damn you, Garnet screamed, you are our family, Skeeter. Even though Skeeter could easily hear Garnet, she couldn't have cared less. She suddenly raised her clawed hand and snatched Garnet by her neck. She quickly got back to her feet and threw Garnet several yards until she landed hard on the icy road. Garnet cried out as she felt her shoulder shatter on Impact'd heal up after a time, but she would become weaker and need to consume more of her fellow mortals to regain her full strength.

She could also feel herself bleeding out through the breaks in her flesh. Garnet knew she would bleed to death if Skeeter didn't kill her first. It was then when Garnet felt her survival instincts come alive. She knew she didn't want to die. The only way she could survive would be to attack Skeeter and try and eat her flesh. She would have to break the pact with hell Weaver and become this thing. This Wendy Go was that what Skeeter was known as now. When Skeeter walked towards her, her long tongue came out and licked at her mouth.

When it went back in, Skeeter smiled a predatory smile. Wendy Go screamed at the top of her lungs and rushed at Skeeter. She tackled her to the ground and quickly bit right into her flesh. Garnet's body came to life as she tasted the most incredible meat that she had ever had. From there, the two former friends would fight each other in a long battle to the death. Naturally, only one could survive this conflict. When the fight was over, Garnet Miron was victorious. She continued to eat her former friend until nothing was left but Skeeter's horrific wendygos skeleton.

Garnet rose to her feet and felt her shoulder nearly restored. The winds and cold no longer bothered her. She could see how white her skin was becoming, and knew she was mutating into the very creature Skeeter once was. Soon she would completely renounce whatever humankennity she had remaining and suffer hell Weaver's unforgiving punishment for breaking the pact. Garrett Miron would soon be no more. In her place, would be another abomination that Skeeter Vickers once was. Her transformation finished when she felt how sharp her teeth had become, her long tongue emerging, and her antlers fully grown.

Wandy Go was Garnet's first word in her new form. From there, she ascended into the winter's storm's winds and let them carry her to the village of Pendleton to seek whatever victims were unfortunate enough to be outside in the hostile weather. And it would be on harsh wintry nights like that one that this creature that would come to be known as the Wendigo would come to prowl in search of living beings, mortal or not, to satiate her never ending hunger and bloodlust. At least, that was how the legend would come to be recorded at Strickfield University's website under the Local Legends tab The Ship of the Cannibal Rats by David O'Hanlon.

This fucking blows, Chance grumbled, could be worse, Lucas said, comfortingly. How could this be any worse? The shipping container rocked not so gently in the waves. A few others bobbed around them. Amongst the assorted equipment and the corpses of the ship's crew, Dorsal fins of migrating blueshirt darted between the bodies. Occasionally they'd drag one down or just chomp off a piece, sending the other sharks into a frenzy. A thick fog had persisted since two days prior, and the sharks fins looked like ghosts flitting around the floating buffet. The ship's captain, McHenry bobbed in the water with his eyes still open.

For whatever reason, the sharks wouldn't eat him, and every so often he floated just right to cast his undead gaze on the stranded men, as if to ask when they'd be joining him. It could be raining again, Luca offered, you know you're right, chance, let his head fall back on the container with a thud. It would suck if drinkable water started to fall from the sky. It's only been thirty hours since we had a drink, after all, thirty two, and I'm working on that. Luca walked to the edge of the container. It wasn't uncommon for McHenry to lease space to smugglers.

He'd seen the crates hastily loaded in the middle of the night. It didn't look like the drugs they normally picked up weapons. Maybe it didn't really matter. Whatever they'd been hauling had brought the ship down fast, too fast for anyone to react. Accordingly, two of the three lifeboats had gone down with the wreckage. The last one was currently adrift and unmanned. Water food and an emergency beacon bobbed tauntingly. Just one hundred meters away. Seven dead men floated like lily pads between Luca and salvation. A long fin sliced the surface and then dive down sharply. Make that six dead men get away from the edge, you dumb ass, Chance grumped.

One of the sharks is going to jump up and bite your ass. That only happens in the movies. Sharks can't jump. Luca instinctively reached for a pack of cigarettes that wasn't there. Whales jump out of the water all the time to eat penguins. Chance told him, you can use the internet for more than porn. You know, whales are mammals. What the hell does that have to do with anything? Mammals can jump? Luca shrugged, fish swim fuck, I need a smoke. A shark breached the surface, throwing its body onto the container. It swept its open mouth across the edge, sending Luca into a backward stumble before sliding off into the water.

Luca landed hard on his ass and slid on the wet metal. He laughed it off shakily. So maybe they can jump, he admitted, told you so. The waves slapped the back of Luca's head, and he sat up quickly as a dorsal streaked by. He ran his hand through the mop of hair, looking around suspiciously. Another shark swam by, and Luca felt his stomach not he could clearly see the bright blue coloration that gave them their name. Luca leaned over the edge a bit more hesitantly. He eyed the serial number printed vertically on the corner of the container.

The sharks were getting more frantic for their share of the dwindling supply of dead bodies. If he was right, there'd be some fresh meat on the menu soon. Hey, chance, what do you think is in this container? He asked, knowing our luck, a speed boat in a case of beer? Why? Because I'm pretty sure we're sinking. Of course we fucking are. Don't worry, Luca said, I got a plan, of course, you fucking do. After a frustrating two hours, Luca's plan had come to morbid fruition. Using a makeshift rope of their belts and clothes, he lassoed McHenry and four and a half other dead crew members.

He laid the bodies out on the container and began lashing them together. Chance be grudgingly helped tie it together. Luca instructed, we don't want one of those sharks poking its nose through. Chance lifted the stump. That's going to be an issue. Improvise. I can't believe we're doing this, Chance said, It's like a big ass meat aureo, only the glass of milk is full of sharks. What makes you think this will even work. A ship's only as good as its crew. Luca pulled the cordage tight, eliciting a spurt of congealed blood across his face. This was a really good crew.

Why hasn't anyone come for us? Chance stood up and shielded his eyes from the sun. The emergency beacon should have signaled as soon as it was submerged. You heard that explosion, Luca checked the lashings. Whatever was on board was the kind of shit that gets you renditioned. I saw enough in the legion, and trust me, we're better off with the sharks. The captain knew that too. We've been running in ghost mode since Liberia. They slid the bodies off the container and back in to the ocean. It was a much shorter drop than either man expected.

They were sinking faster, there wouldn't be time for a plan B. The raft stayed afloat, but only barely. Luca eased himself on board, and it dipped down. McHenry's head went under. Shit, Luca whispered, new plan. I'm going to have to go alone, and what about me? Would it kill you to trust me? It fucking might Here goes nothing. Luca pushed off the side of the shipping container and drifted toward the lifeboat. See it's working cool, Now hurry up before they eat your boat. They'd already started. One of the blues grabbed McHenry's arm and tore it off, sending the raft spinning.

The vessel dipped and bobbed back up. A shark bumped it from below, bucking Luca into the air. His grip held firm, but the landing jostled the bodies beneath him. Another bump from below nearly capsized him. Luca realized he'd made a terrible mistake. The man made raft floated well enough, but now it looked like a big wounded fish to the simple minded predators stalking it. Luca hiked his leg up and waited for a fin to pass by. One got close enough, and he kicked into the water to push off the fish. It gave him a brief surge, but the lifeboat was still too far away to swim for it.

Another speeding shark gave the raft a hard nudge that thankfully was in the right direction. Sixty meters to go, Luca stretched for a piece of debris, almost topping overboard in the process. A fin battered his arm as it cut between him and the flotsam. Luca tried again and jerked the scrap metal from the water, hugging to his chest. With a triumphant whoop, Luca frantically paddled the water fifty meters left, forty deep. Red suddenly spread around him, and the raft listed to starboard. He rode faster, glancing back over his shoulder at chance. Unspooling entrails floated in his wake.

A shark broke the surface, scooping intestines into its wide open mouth like it were taking a fishing line. The raft lurched. The hollowed body was filling with sea water, and for the second time in two days, Luca was on a sinking ship. A pair of sharks attached theft from opposite sides the lashings began to stretch, and Luca's legs slipped through. A shark bumped against it, but didn't bite. He knew he wouldn't get lucky twice. He let himself slide between the bodies and sink above him. The sharks converged blood and unchewed bits clouded Luca's view. A finger floated past him, carried downward by the weight of the wedding band still encircling it.

Chance crawled out onto the edge of the container, looking for any sign of his partner. Nothing. Sharks swam away, with parts of the raft still refusing to take McHenry. The captain swirled around until he was the only person left between Chance and the lifeboat. Water rolled onto the roof of the container, submerging Chance's forearms. A thud threw his attention to the other end. The shark chomped at the air before sliding back into the ocean. Chance sniffled, then let himself cry. No one was left to see him anyhow. If he was lucky, he'd drowned before the sharks started to eat him.

Get away from the edge, Luca shouted, sharks can jump, you know the lifeboat's motor didn't have enough fuel to get them to land, but it was enough to get them away from the feeding frenzy and moving in the general direction of Europe. The strobe on the roof flashed constantly through the night, reminding the men of the vast nothing around them as they took turns on lookout. The night wind was frigid, and despite the supplies stowed aboard, a blanket was not inted. Not a real one anyhow, just a handful of foil ones that folded up into little squares.

They didn't do much for the wet, mostly naked sailors. The emergency position indicator was lit, they assumed that meant it was working. Rescue shouldn't have taken too long. Satellites would pick up the signal and relay it to the nearest local user terminal. Then they'd notify the nearest agency capable of getting to the men. Neither of them knew how far they were from land. However, they sipped at the bottles of water just to be safe. They should pack extra clothes in lifeboats, Lucas said, at least some underwear. There's no way you don't need a fresh pair after your ship sinks.

I don't know about you, but I don't ever plan on leaving land again, Chance said, rolling the bottle between his palms. He snickered. This fucking shit is crazy, man. Hey, you see that the light? It was wrong, Chance pointed stern. The strobe flashed again, and Lucas saw what his friend was talking about. Brighter like it had reflected off. Oh shit, Luca scrambled to his feet and out the cockpit, grab the torch. Chance let the flashlight lead as he joined his partner. What is it, Luca pointed up. The strobe bounced off the hull of the small cruise ship.

Chance laughed and waved his hands in the air. Hey we're down here, he shouted. Don't bother, she's not running under power. Luca took the flashlight from him and scanned the side of the ship for markings. We are setting the world record for bad luck. We almost got ran over by a ghost ship derelict way out here. No one knows for sure, but best guess is there are thousands of them floating around. Luca told him. One got loose in Japan a couple years ago, Almost a year to the day, it drifted into Canada. There we go.

He shined the light on the vessel's name, moving the beams slowly to make out the letters. A broken toe line clanked against the reinforced hull. Luke turned off the light. Yadmila Gerchenko, Chance said, must be Russian. Looks like a discount cruise ship. An ocean liner, Luca corrected him. They were made for transport, not comfort. That's why she's so small. Been retrofitted for the Arctic too. That hul's up armored for icebergs. Why do you sound so happy about that? Pack your shit, wheezy, Luca smiled, We're moving on up. I'm not really digging the idea of being on a creepy ass ghost ship.

Chance said, got anywhere else to be? Luca scanned the deck for signs of life asleep in the lifeboat until daylight, when this won't suck as bad. They made their way to the bridge, shining their lights and windows as they went. No one moved inside. Luca led the way up the steps. The door moved noisily on its hinges. The salty air had rusted them badly, so it didn't swing back and forth, but just inched one way, and then the other in plaintive moans. Luca pushed through and swept the flashlight across the bridge. He screamed and stumbled backwards into Chance.

Fuck me what Chance braced himself to run. What is it? Luca leaned back into the room, letting the light find the floating apparition. The gray black shape of a man at the helm was nothing more than a forgotten jacket. Luca breathed deeply to steady himself. He wriggled his toes, wondering if the puddle he stood in had been there before he opened the door. He hesitated to enter, letting his heart rate settle back down first. Once it had, he went straight to the jacket to look for clues, Check for any kind of records, he said over his shoulder.

Sure thing, Boss, Chance chuckled. You screamed like a woman, by the way, and you were crying like one. On top of the shipping container. Luca picked up the jacket. JK. Deener salvage. Looks like old girl was being decommissioned. Thinks she broke away from port while being towed. Chance's light played across the instruments. Most of the cables had been stripped already if she was already docked, that means there's not going to be anything useful on board. Might still be beds. Luca slipped the jacket on. It was a lot warmer than the lifeboat's foil blanket. Maybe some clothes and can goods.

Even if we don't find anything, it'll be a lot more comfortable and safer waiting for rescue. Here a familiar bulge rubbed Luca's bare chest. He reached into the inner pocket, finding a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He said a silent prayer before opening the box. He thumbed the top back and sighed happily there were still three smokes left. Chance shook his head. He knelt for a bottle of pepsi on the floor and checked for an expiration date February twenty ten. He tossed the bottle to Luca. This shit heap's been floating for at least three years, or just been out of service that long, Lucas said, taking a pull off the cigarette.

Things are definitely looking up. Let's see if we can find some damn clothes. They managed to scrounge up some coveralls in the abandoned crew lockers, as well as a few more stale smokes for Luca's pack. Growling stomachs told them to forego any further pillaging until they checked out the food store. They proceeded carefully through the corridors to find the galley falling apart, pots and pans lay strewn about, and the entire place had an odd stench to it. Chance shined the flashlight around the perimeter jackpot, he said, signaling to the series of shelves lined with canned goods.

Luca nodded, but was more interested in the smell. He examined the prep surfaces, finding spots of what appeared to be dried blood from the crew's final meal and rodent droppings. He moved the light to the floor and grimaced. The entire surface was speckled with rat shit. He opened a drawer below the table, finding an assortment of butcher knives, dotted with rust and stored carelessly. Some primitive fear gnawing at his brain told him to take one. He ignored it and slammed the drawer shut before joining Chase at the shelves we got Chef boy r D. Chance said, never thought I'd be so happy to see that fat fock's face.

He lifted the can and scrunched his nose curiously. He shook the can. What the fuck is this? He dropped it and grabbed another, shaking it and then tossing it over his shoulder, and then a third. They're empty. Luca knelt for the can of ravioli and rolled it over. A massive hole had been torn through the backside. Check it, he said. Chance glanced down, then turned one around on the shelf. One big hole in some smaller puncture marks locked the tin. Luca slowly panned his light up the shelves. Dried sauces and soups stained them, along with the occasional shriveled morsel of food.

Cardboard boxes were little more than scraps. They both looked around hurriedly. Bags of salt, sugar, and flour had all been torn open, with their contents spilled and tracked away by tiny feet. Well, at least we still have the MREs from the lifeboat, Luca offered, I've never been so disappointed in my life, Chance sighed, even when our ship exploded and we almost got eaten by sharks. Luca shrugged. Weird priorities, bro, think they're dead The rats. I mean maybe from heart disease. After eating all that, Chance illuminated the shelves again. We need to get our strength back.

We should find a place to sleep. Metal clanked somewhere down the narrow corridors. Luca and Chance turned in unison and shine their lights, then laughed at each other's paranoia. They wandered back to the cabins. Luca paid more attention to where they stepped, noting more droppings. They opened the first passenger cabin they came to. That same stench from the kitchen was much worse. Something clamored in the darkness. Chance stepped in first. The mattress looked like it had been used for target practice. Stuffing exploded out of dozens of holes and was dragged around the floor. A built in dresser had been chewed to the point it had collapsed on itself.

A spider's web was intricately spun across the wrecked frame. Luca had his light on it. A big orb weaver occupied the middle. Something shimmered inside the ruined drawer, beneath the erachnid. This place needs a better housekeeper. Chance aimed his light to the bed. Did that just move? Luca asked, like waterbed moved or like exorcist moved. They watched the mattress suspiciously, but nothing happened. Chance shook his head bad lighting and waves. He chuckled, Fuck, we need to see if we can get the electricity on. Man, I can't stand this haunted house. Shit, that would mean going below deck.

Luca reminded him, Actually, I'm really good with not having electricity. Luca looked for the spider once more, but found it was gone and the web just dangling strands. He didn't mention it as they left to inspect the next room. It was in the same condition as were the next two. Chance stopped at the fifth cabin and rested his hand on the latch. I don't give a fuck anymore, he said, trashed or not, this is my room for the night. I am beat. He opened the door slowly, with ignorantly high hopes, considering the state of the ship and their running luck.

Everything was ransacked, as in the others. Chance threw his hands up in defeat and went to the bed, flopping back on to it. Lucas sat in a nearby chair. Chance was right, there wasn't any reason to check the other rooms. They needed to rest. It could be days before rescue came, and the flashlight batteries wouldn't last forever. They'd have to work during the day, paint a message on the deck for helicopters to see, try to clean up the bridge so they could keep watch and look for anything else that might be useful. He laid his head back and closed his eyes.

There still wasn't any way in hell. He'd sleep on one of the beds. The chair would be just fine. Then it collapsed. Chance bolted upright in a panic, but then broke into laughter when he saw his friend sprawled out on the floor. Luca sat up against the wall. He smiled, wanting to laugh too, but couldn't. Something was squishing under his palm, and his smile started to melt as he moved to see what it was. The rat leg was still bloody and connected to its tail by minuscule strings of meat. Luca held it up by the tail for Chance to see, but the morsel fell to pieces in an instant guess the rats aren't dead, Luca said that one is.

Chance chuckled. He's still wet. It was a fresh kill. Luca searched the room with the light think there might be a cat on board too. No, Chance's voice sounded off. Worried, he lowered his voice to a whisper, Dude, this bed is definitely moving. Chance pulled at a tattered blanket and shrieked. Dozens of tiny, hairless, red bodies wriggled over one another in the folds. He scrambled to the end of the bed and toppled into the floor. His flashlight rolled away in a wide arc, casting its glow wildly around the room. Luca watched the point he nose pushed through a hole in the mattress before the light changed direction.

When it rolled back around, the rat was halfway out. It hissed and screeched. Pipes rattled overhead. Scratches came from inside the walls. Luca pressed himself to the wall and stood slowly. I think we need to go back to the lifeboat, he whispered. Something clattered in the lavatory. He peeked inside, but saw nothing in the darkness. He shined the light back to his friend, then to the rat in the bed. The mattress pulsed as others came out of the holes, sometimes wrestling over each other to get through the same exit. Luca shined the light in the bathroom in time to see a dozen of them spilling out of the toilet.

One ran up his leg before he even saw it. He swatted it with the light. It hit the floor, stunned but still alive. Its brethren swarmed it. They tore off limbs and attacked one another over the piece. Luca bare toes blazed with sudden pain. He kicked and stomped at the rodents, gnawing them. God, damn it, We've got to go. Luca twisted around and gagged. The tail twitched wildly as the rat forced itself into Chance's mouth. Others had converged on him from the bed. His legs were invisible beneath the writhing mass of furry bodies. An opportunistic adult pounced on the unguarded babies, devouring them greedily.

Luca ran for the door without looking. He hit the hallway, sliding on a squished carcass. The army of rodents pursued him. The corridor filled with the squeaks, hisses, and chirps, their numbers so great that he could hear the tiny claws scraping the flooring in their efforts to catch up. A pipe broke and swung down from the ceiling, spilling out more in front of him. There inaudible ultrasonic calls carried through the ghost ship like a dinner. Luca changed directions, pushing into a wreck room. Rats poked their heads out of the pockets of a fallen billiard's table.

A fat one stopped chewing a forgotten paperback and stared at Luca with its beady eyes. Luca searched for an exit. A half dozen rats fell from a cupboard with their tails fused together from hiding in the tight space for too long. Luca screamed at the sight of the rat king scurrying toward him as one unit. He slammed the door behind him, bi secting one of the pursuers. Luca jumped into the air and came down on the rat king, crushing three components instantly. The other bit down on his feet. He shook them off, kicking them from the other side of the room, but they dragged their dead comrades along as they re entered the fray.

Luca pulled a fire extinguisher from the wall and sprayed at the nearest rats first, then to the others. It drove them back, but they didn't flee. They hissed at him from a safe distance. The ones in the hall were grating their claws and teeth at the door frantically. They'd be through it in minutes. Luca used the fire extinguisher to clear a path to the window and smashed it with the canister. He climbed out of the frame, but was too fixated on the rats to pay attention to his exit. The glass sliced the back of his leg, causing him to fall through Out on the deck.

There were no rats yet. He crawled until he could stand and limped quickly to the lifeboat. Rats were descending the rope. Some fell off in the strong breeze, but the others continued undaunted. He leaned over the guard rail. There was enough moonlight to see several of the critters fighting over one of the ration packs. More were chewing on the boat itself. Luca backed away from his last chance at salvation. He looked up at the ship's funnels. A hundred huge, dark bodies clamored out of the smokestacks. A wave of rats climbed through the wreck room window.

Some sliced themselves on the shards of glass, but kept coming, so hungry for Luca that they ignored the gashed flesh and spilling organs. A massive two foot rat leapt down between Luca and the horde. More of the monsters lined the roof. They didn't make as much noise as the normal ones. Four of the big ones crawled down calmly. Luca looked up at the squadron of giants waiting like gargoyles. The monsters had come up from the engine room. It would have been warmest there and provided access to the entire ship. It was the perfect place to nest.

The most dominant ones would have taken it for their own. There they grew into a thriving community of seafaring rodents, eating their way through the smaller ones upstairs and laying claim to the whole of the Valudmila Gurchenko. The small ones squeaked between themselves. Another wave gathered on the deck behind Luca. More giants came down, intimidating them with their presence. Little ones jumped onto the guardrails. Some dived into the ocean to escape. Others ran for the rope, climbing to the safety of the lifeboat. Luca snarled. First they tried to eat him. Now they were stealing his boat.

Luca screamed with primal rage and ran at the nearest giant. He kicked it hard enough to collapse its torso it slid into the horde. They sniffed at it for seconds and chirped amongst themselves. The rooftop rats hissed a warning. The little ones didn't care. It was time for revenge, time for a meal. They tore the fallen monster apart, ending the stand off. Luca watched in amazement as the two factions went to war. They swarmed over the larger ones, trying to use their numbers to overpower them. The big ones fought back, taking quick bites that severed heads clean from twitching bodies.

Luca charged forward, running into the fray. Rodent guts squished between his toes as he trampled over them. Opportunistic bites took chunks and strips from his legs. Some pounced, others climbed. He pulled and slapped at them, trying desperately to keep them away from arteries. One of the big ones sprang onto his back, knocking him face first to the deck. He rolled repeatedly trying to smash it, but it leapt clear. It lunged at him as he tried to stand, and they tumbled over the guard rail. Luca clung to the wet steel. The monster rat climbed up him, digging its claws into his face.

Luca wasn't going to die alone. He bit into the giant's belly. It attacked his face in retaliation. Luca bit again, using his head to press the creature against a rail and chewed his way deep into its guts. The rat fell away, taking Luca's eye with it to the ocean below. Luca dangled from the railing one handed. He swung the other up and adjusted his grip. While he weighed his options, A rat crawled along the steel, sniffing at his fingers. Don't you fucking dare you little shit? He growled, It dared. The bucked teeth raked the skin from his knuckle.

He reached over and grabbed it, squeezing it until it popped in his fist. He climbed over the railing and fell back onto the deck. He dragged himself to the bridge, chancing a glance over his shoulder. The battle seemed to be over. Victorious rodents stayed top side and stripped the dead to their bones, while the losers limped away to be eaten by their own kind. Back in the mattresses and the walls of the passenger cabins, Luca wondered if this was a regular occurrence. Did they have to cull their own numbers every so often, or did they just enjoy it.

Luca watched the flashing beacon atop the lifeboat drift away from the liud Milla. The rats had chewed through the rope. Crazy as it sounded, he knew they did it on purpose. He limped up the stairs and left the door open. There were too many ways they could get inside to bother shutting it. Anyhow, He pulled a cigarette from the pack, slipped into the captain's seat, and watched the sun breaking the horizon. At least he was headed in the right direction, he thought. As he lit the bent cigarette, he took a long drag. A tiny rat scurried out of the instrument panel and cleaned its paws.

Luca blew a smoke ring at him. The runt jumped into his lap, but didn't make a move to attack him. All right, then, Willie Lucas said softly, you can be my quartermaster. The rat settled into his lap. Luca watched it expectantly, but it still didn't bite. Blood dripped onto it from his still torn face. It twitched and tried to clean itself off. Luca sheltered the animal with his hand. Crimson drops rolled down his knuckles. He looked back up to the horizon and smiled. There was a new crew captain on the ship of the Cannibal Rats.

Love Burgers and the open Road by David O'Hanlon. I'm taking you to your father's was all Uncle Curtis said. He never looked at me. His cold, sterling glare stayed locked to the jaundiced, bloodshot eyes of my mother. I packed quickly. I loved my mom, but I hadn't seen her in a long time. Morphine and cheap vodka took her away from me. Whatever Slee's ball she brought home normally left enough money on the dresser after she passed out that I could go get bread and some balgonney to survive on until the school provided lunch. A week into summer vacation and I was starting to miss those guaranteed meals.

Dad split when I was five. Maybe the last eight years had taught him how to be a father. Maybe a summer without me would help Mom get her priorities in order, or maybe she'd party harder and od life is full of maybies. The zombieyond the couch picked at the bruised, scabbed needle marks on her arm and didn't bother telling me goodbye. As I went with her big brother, Uncle Curtis left the door open for her to have one more chance to say anything. He opened the cab of the truck and helped me into the passenger seat.

I heard the front door slam. Probably for the best, Uncle Curtis said, without looking back. The Kenworth W nine hundred was the only thing my uncle owned. Pictures hung where they fit with double sided tape. Everything else was split up between his three ex wives. He made some small talk, asked how school was going, if I'd gotten my first whiskers yet, any girls caught my eye? The usual stuff. He didn't once mention Mom. I was okay with that. We picked up a trailer full of used tires on our way out of Houston. Curtis told me he took the small gigs to pay for the diesel.

He needed to get the big jobs, like the one we were heading to next. I haven't heard from him, I said, softly. Who's that. He glanced over and sighed, Oh, he's living in Nashville. Does he know I'm coming? Uncle? Curtis nodded. We all make mistakes, Brad, leaving your family is only a mistake. It's complicated. Curtis sighed, the place me and your mama grew up, well, it was a bad place. I went to Vietnam to get away from it. War seemed easier, cleaner. She didn't have a war to run away to. All she could find was another young dipshit to distract her dad.

Yeah, they were just having fun until they were too far down the rackbit hole. Your old man thought if he left, she'd get away from the things they were into and focus on you Instead, he got clean and she well, shit, maybe I should have never left her in that god forsaken place. It's not your fault. I looked out my window thoughtfully. At least you came to get me. It's a long drive to Nashville. He reached over to pat my shoulder. Guess I better make up lost time and teach you about the good things in life.

The first lesson came at the heart of Dixie truck stop. Outside of Lufkin. The microwave dinged and Uncle Curtis opened the door with a wide, snaggletoothed smile beneath his toilet brush mustache. He slipped the nuke cheeseburger onto a styrofoam plate, bone apple teeth. He declared, go on and grab us a booth. You'll want to let it sit for a minute so the flavor really gets into the bun. I took the plate and found a seat. The bright yellow cheese melted neatly over the edges of the two all meat patties. The packaging hadn't specified what meats, and my rumbling stomach didn't particularly care.

The bottom bun discolored as it soaked up seasoned grease. A sudden slap interrupted my investigation. A brown paper bag sat on the corner of the chip table. Uncle Curtis gave me a wink and slipped into the booth opposite me. Reading materials for the road. He gestured toward my plate, also very important. I picked up the burger. It was still hot, and I appreciated the burn. After subsiding primarily on cold sandwiches. It smelled far better than anything coming out of a microwave had any right to. I bit in and groaned with pleasure. The charbroiled paddies burst with complex flavors that shamed the big mac Mom got me every birthday.

I greedily stuffed my mouth with two more bites. Uncle Curtis's laughter made me blush with sudden self awareness. He waved for me to continue. Never pass on the fine cuisine of your friendly Eat em up, he said. The distance between meals will make you appreciate them even more. It has, I told him in between bites. Thunder rumbled outside despite a still blue sky. Curtis checked his watch and leaned close to the window to look out. Damn the luck, he said, thirty miles to go before we drop this load. We'll hit the town same time as that storm.

Sure as shit. Can we wait it out? I asked. Curtis shook his head without looking at me. Suppose to be a some bit of a storm. It was lesson two In Uncle Curtis's book of life was age appropriate literature. I read the latest issue of Soldier of Fortune magazine with the aid of a bungee cord mounted lantern in the sleeper cab. The rain came down in sheets, almost loud enough to muffle the thunder. Almost. I leaned around the driver's seat. There's an ad in here for a book on how to fight, I said, Oh, you'll see lots of those in sof He said, with his trademark chipper grumble.

This one says I can learn how to kill a man with my thumb, I clarified. Sounds like malarkey, Oh ye of little faith. Curtis pointed to the glovebox. I actually have a copy of that one. It's a pretty good read. Check it out. I slipped back into my seat and found the hand to hand combat manual. I turned to the dog eared pages. First, a kneeling groin strike with complimentary castration, Various ways to punch the throat, the proper way to gouge out an eye. My uncle smiled at my naive shock. That's yours. Now, a boy has to know how to defend himself.

Don't you need it? No, he said, softer than normal. I had those lessons already. It was a much roudier classroom. I watched him drive in silence before turning my attention back to the manual, I paid close attention to the pages he'd marked and mined the movements in the air, trying to visualize how they worked in real life. Curtis gave me pointers as he watched my practice from the corner of his eye. I made the adjustments as he suggested. The positive feedback was something new to me, and it made me want to try harder to impress him.

He reached over and corrected my grip that the book said would tear a man's throat out. I attempted it again. My uncle beamed with pride. I'd never been happier or felt more loved than I did. Right then, I wasn't sure it mattered. After all, I'd probably never need to kill a man with my bare hands. Then again, it really was a long road to Nashville. I woke up to the squawking of the CB radio ten nine, my uncle said. I crawled into my seat and stretched away the few hours of sleep bears. Another voice said, looking for a runner from Pasqualito, some bitch, Ain't that just a kick in the pants.

Curtis pressed the button ten four. What does all that mean? I asked, means we're riding double nickels until they finish their business. He pointed at swirling red and blue lights on the horizon. Sam, Pasqualito is a looney bin full of murderers, the bad kind as opposed to the good kind. I'm just saying, I understand a man shooting folks. Pasqual is for those less civilized sorts. Cannibals, satanists, serial killers, fellas that like to poke their peckers into dead things. Whoever they're looking for, it ain't someone we want to find. We're going to get up the road aways.

There's a nice place called Moonlight Drive. We'll get some more burgers there. In a shower. I hadn't considered how Curtis handled basic things like showering. I started to ask, and he held up a knowing finger. Brad, let me tell you something, he smiled with fond reminiscence. Nothing feels better than washing all the kinks of the road out of your body with a nice hot shower. Just make sure you wear some flip flops. Don't want to get the clap between your toes. What's the clap, I asked, Which brings us to another important life lesson the girls at Moonlight Drive do not really think you're handsome, and that bargain rate comes with a different kind of price.

My uncle laughed hard and shook his head. Just trust me. I had no idea what he was talking about, but I did trust him. He'd taught me more in a few hours than either of my parents. We passed a pair of park cop cars and I waved at the silhouette of the state trooper on my side. I was sure he couldn't see me through the storm, but it seemed like the right thing to do. My uncle gave me a towel that smelled strongly of bleach, a pair of brand new flip flops, and a thumbs up.

I went to the shower and nervously undressed before stepping into the stall. By god, Uncle Curtis was right. I'd been a trucker for all of six hours, and the scolding hot water was the best damned feeling in my admittedly short life. I could only imagine how it must have felt to someone that lived in their truck all the time. I cleaned myself quickly and then leaned my forehead against the tile wall. I thought about what Mom was probably doing, what it would be like meeting Dad for basically the first time, and how Curtis had been more of a parent in a quarter of a day than they had been in thirteen years.

Crying all of that out felt almost as good as the shower. When I finally stepped out, I had lost all sense of time. The other four stalls were seemingly occupied, and I set about drying myself as fast as I could. I'd never been naked around other people, or around naked people. I wasn't sure what the protocols were for that sort of thing. I pulled my jeans on and slipped my feet back into my flip flops. No longer focused on potential embarrassment or awkward nude conversations, I began to take in my surroundings and notice the stall doors were open.

Is anyone there? I called? No one answered. It wasn't a lesson Curtis taught, but it should have been. Never ask if anyone's there. It's not like some fucking psycho was going to say, yeah, pal, I'm over here behind the curtain. Just keep your guy mouth shut like I didn't. Instead, I walked through the steam, trying to wave it away. The light shifted through the more relaxing environment of the shower room to the garish bathroom. It was in that weird merger of contrasting illumination that I saw the figure run by my hasty attempt at drying off lift my underwear wet.

At least that's the lie I was telling myself in that moment. A crash came from the bathroom, followed by another. The lights inside flickered violently in their battered fixtures. I took a deep breath and tried to sound much older as I shouted for someone to answer me. They kept their mouth shut because they were smarter than I was. In the bathroom, all seemed calm. No one jumped out to kill me, no one was there at all. Keeping my back to the row of sinks and my eyes on the stalls, I inched through the space quickly.

Most of the toilet doors were open, giving me some peace of mind. Under the last door, I saw a pair of cowboy boots with the required wranglers around their embroidered ankles. A strange puddle drew my eyes to the urinals. I tried to ignore it. I wanted to run through the moonlight drive and out to Uncle Curtis's truck. I didn't. The scent of ammonia and old pennies grew stronger with each step closer to the dark pool. Next to the half dissolved urinal puck was a severed dick. My flip flops thwack, thwack, thwacked frantically as I back pedaled.

I'd caught mine with the zipper before. Maybe this was just an extreme case. Maybe the cowboy and the shitter was the owner. Maybe he was the penis pruner and mine would be next. Life is full of maybes, you know. I gave the door a quick shove and it came open with ease, banged off the partition, and shut again. The half second it was open was long enough to prove he was the owner of the disembodied dangle rod. I sprinted through the bathroom and into the narrow hall beyond, running full bore into the hideous orange wall.

My footwear sounded more ridiculous than my pubescent screeching as I bolted to the main part of the truck stop. Then my thwacking became splatting, and next thing I knew, I was on my back. It took a moment to get my breath back into my lungs. My skin peeled from the gory linoleum with the same noise your legs make on vinyl car seats in the summer. It was a toss up which was wider, the shocked eyes on the trucker or the gash in his throat as he stared at me from his spot on the floor, bubbles popped and the pulled blood in his mouth.

I managed to stay quiet to this fucking day. I don't know how I pressed myself up from the floor. Another body was slumped over a table, with his brains spilling from the back of his skull across the laminated tabletop. The woman across from him was blinking at me on either side of the hatchet by secting her face. Her sneakers squeaked softly in the puddle beneath her as her foot twitched in a post mortem attempt to flee. Better late than never. A fourth victim was mostly hidden by bags of Cheetos, where he crashed through a display.

Two more laid on the path to the door. I stepped over another and went to the counter with the microwaves out of the corners of my eyes. I saw others, truckers, lot lizards, store employees, and so much fucking blood. Thirty nine years, a voice said wearily. The speaker gave an amused grunt. In eight months lots of lost time to make up for. I reached for the little refrigerator full of assordid microwaveable food choices and opened it, collecting two double cheeseburgers of the brand we'd had at the heart of Dixie. Never pass up the fine cuisine of your friendly eat em up, I said, before turning to face the killer.

I am rather famished. The man wore a denim shirt and brown trousers, with a simple mask made of a stained pillowcase. His blue eyes stared at me through the mismatched holes he'd cut out to sea this work. It takes a lot out of you. I put a burger in the microwave and set the timer ninety seconds. You never really consider the possibility that the last moments of your life will be so precise. I watched the entree turn on the glass plate. The green digits on the tim are counted down my remaining time on earth. The killer came beside me and put his hands on the counter.

That's a hell of a thing. He pointed his bloody finger at the appliance. I wonder what all changed while I was gone. I'm guessing it was probably a lot. I'm brad. Did your father name you that? He asked. I don't know. I'd never thought on how i'd gotten my name. Maybe I guess my father didn't name me, nor my mother. His voice was as devoid of emotion as his hooded face. The newspapers they gave me a name for the first time in my life. They called me the phantom Killer. Doesn't really roll off the tongue.

I laughed a little and bit my lip, hoping he wouldn't cut my head off for the faux pas. Can I call you p K? Suppose that would be fine? Why did you do all this? P K? Why not? You shouldn't answer a question with a question. I told him. Why did they deserve to die? Why did they deserve to live? P K leaned on the counter and crossed his arms over his narrow chest. A man will love his wife and then beat her. A woman will love her husband and fuck his brother. People will go to a man's funeral, but not his birthday party.

We throw the word love around, but it's only a superficial thing. Our value was realized by our demise. Until you're gone, it's only a word. It's through death that love becomes an actual, quantify emotion. Because of me, they will all be loved endlessly. The microwave dinged, derailing my train of thought, which was chugging uncomfortably towards understanding. I eased the burger onto a styrofoam plate and slid it to Piquet. He rolled the mask up over his nose and leaned down to smell it. He made a pleased sound and licked his lips. Silver scruff covered his gaunt, wrinkled face.

He would kill me and take off the mask, and then he'd disappear. He was just some old man waiting for a crowd to get lost in. You should let the burger sit for a minute, I said it. Lets the flavor really get into the bun. Suppose that means we have time to finish this. He rolled the mask back down and shrugged. I'm sure there'll be a lot of folks at your funeral, Brad. I'll do it so it won't hurt much. I can't make the same promise, I said. He reached behind him and I dropped to a knee.

I lashed out like Uncle Curtis's manual showed me. My palms struck his groin and p K buckled. His face came down, and my hands shot up to meet it. My thumbs slipped past the moist orbs and disappeared inside his eye sockets. I felt something cold bang against my ribs. The sudden warmth of blood cascading down my side made me jump away. P K screamed and spun around, slashing wildly at the air. I was too distracted by the gash across my side to notice the eyeball clutched in my fist. When I did, I flung it away with a less than intimidating squeal.

The phantom killer sprang forward with a fruitless lunge. His follow up shot got much closer. More blood trickled from the tidy cut he left in my lip. The taste focussed my attention. The knife was drawing back. P K's weight sank. He'd spring one more time and put all seven inches of steel straight through my heart. I thought about Uncle Curtis, probably one of the bodies lining the aisles, and how happy he'd been when he showed me how to execute the movements in the martial arts booklet. I plunged in and did it just like he showed me.

The knife clattered to the floor. P Kue stood up straight and stumbled away from me. The neck of the hood fluttered with a strange gurgling hiss. The viscera slipped between my fingers and I let it splat to the checkerboard linoleum. The killer collapsed to his knees, still watching me with his one eye. I picked up the burger. The burn felt good on my fingertips. I took a big, greedy bite. Will anyone love you? Pi k I asked through the flavor burst of the all meat patties. The phantom Killer raised his shirt enough to reveal a composition book in his waistband.

He wrestled it out and fell on his face. Before he faded, he slid it to me. I picked it up and hopped onto the counter. Uncle Curtis taught me the importance of good reading materials. So I sat there and ate my burger and read the scribbled Manifesto of a Madman. A bell tinkled over the door. What the sam hell happened here? Curtis asked. I looked up at him with both relief and confusion. His hand was down the back of some woman's cut off shorts. The aquan at holding her perman place had been given the challenge of its life, and her Motley Crew T shirt was both backwards and inside out.

While I'd been fighting for my life, my uncle had been banging a hooker. I swallowed the bite I was chewing and laughed. Still a long drive to Nashville, I said, sliding down the counter, Is she coming with us? No? Curtis looked around. I ain't fucking staying here, she wailed, Well, shit, all her clients are dead, so yes, she might as well. What happened Psycho from the looney Bend? I slipped the notebook into the back of my jeans. I'll go grab my stuff. Hell, I guess, so, me and Marla will go get the truck in order.

Uncle Curtis married Marla six weeks later and divorced her four months after that. Go figure Mom got into rehab while I was gone and died of an overdose three days after she got out. Relatives I never met came to her funeral. It seems p K was right. I went to with my dad full time and spent my summers with Uncle Curtis on the rig. Now I have my own and all the lessons he gave me, one of them being that life can't be about what you have. It has to be about what you do. And that's where another set of lessons comes in.

The composition book is battered in falling apart. Now pages have been lost or damaged to the point where they can't be read any longer. It's more for sentimental value. Nowadays, I've started writing my own, expanding on PK's teachings and philosophy. There's a lot of road out there and a lot of people that need to be loved. That's what I do. So when you're out there on the highway and you feel like no one cares, just flash your lights at the first semi you see. Maybe it'll be me, maybe, oh them, all of you. After all, life is full of maybes, And there it is my spookies for terrifying reminders that sometimes the safest part of a summer vacation is when you stay at home and miss your flight.

Tonight, we learned that airline snacks are rarely worth dying for. Supernatural contracts should always include dietary restrictions. Abandoned ships are never as empty as they may appear, and no roadside Hamburger is good enough to justify ignoring the blood on the floor. That is what Summer ween is all about. The days may still be long, the pavement may still be hot, and Halloween decorations may not have reached every restore yet, but darkness never checks the calendar, So thank you for traveling with us tonight. Make sure you follow or subscribe to Weekly Spooky on your favorite podcast app, and join us every Wednesday for a brand new scary story and lots of special frights in October.

And don't forget we publish something spooky, creepy and fun every single day of the week, So hit that subscribe button right about now and stay safe, spookies, See us soon.