《The Lord of the Wasteland》


 Chapter 1

    "The odour of sanctity is just refined stench of existence." - Mgla, Exercises in Futility I.


    <hr>


    One can¡¯t easily claim the world is wrong, oblivious to what crawls beyond.


    Beneath our cynicism and egotism, we¡¯ll always squirm as one


    We''re just bubbling muck in the tapestry we belong


    To be consumed and then repurposed no soon we''re overthrown.


    Even our own body is not ours to call our own


    Flesh and blood are borrowed and given back with interest when death reclaims


    Our soul held prisoner inside squirming limbs in decay


    Human existence bartered for a maggot''s feast, a legacy cast away.


    From the primordial cesspool, the foul hands of mankind come


    Determined to lift an empire to the detriment of their own


    All there is is for us to consume and then begone


    Then take the pulp of what is left and distill it down until we''re done.


    Delusions of a merciful god comforts men to live on


    While cold, darkened skies care not for our own


    Judging too precious our heartbeats and soul


    Our putrid core from the source comes, a sight to behold.


    Tendrils of madness thrash with our mind


    Curling and merging, the curse from the ages


    Revealing the truth hidden in plain sight:


    We''re vile''s extension, its flapping appendages.


    Our life sold for parts, our humanity as souvenir


    Ignoring the suffering bestowed on our peer


    Claw our way through the night, drink from it with a gaping mouth


    We''re at the mercy of the smile in the darkness we feed from.


    <hr>


    Oh great, the alarm again. I wake from a roiling nightmare into another.


    I open my eyes disappointed for not having died in my sleep once more. God, is it too much for a girl like me to ask for?


    So many ways to die in my sleep, and God could have just picked one: aneurysm, heart attack, stroke, spontaneous combustion¡­ Yet, I must wake up to confront our crappy reality once more. Well, at least it''s Friday, so maybe not everything is terrible.


    I gather my strength to sit in my bed, pushing down my crumpled sheets. Slept on my clothes again, didn''t even bother removing my shoes. What time did I arrive home yesterday? I don''t even know. Lol. Mom will be all over my ass. If only I gave a fuck.


    I sighed and sat down just a bit longer. Who knows, maybe I can still die, and avoid going to school altogether. But alas, it doesn''t happen. Guess my exceptional physique nurtured by marijuana and alcohol isn''t making it easy on death. Guess I''ll go to the bathroom first.


    I dodge my messy dimly lit room to the next one, trampling my scattered clothes, rock band posters, and pencils as I run my hands through my long clumped black, sweaty hair. I stare at the mirror. Forgot to put out my makeup as well, what a dummy.


    I give it a deep sniff. Ah yes. Whore, my favorite.


    Between my slutty goth clothes, choker, and makeup covering my pale skin and panda-gray eyes, I try hard to remember the happy little girl I once was. Must be down below all this emotional mud that covers the girl I see now. I''ll take a bath to try shaking it off and brush my teeth while I''m at it.


    The water washes away my makeup, but not the dirt in my soul. No amount of cleaning can do that anymore, I think. Nothing can fill up the hollowness I have inside of me¡­


    ¡­ Well, maybe a fat cock would do, but I haven''t got any yet, not for lack of trying. Still, I doubt it.


    As I get ready for another day, I leave my room just in time to catch Father leaving for work, Mom by his side.


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    He gives me a sad stare as our eyes catch up. I hold the stare and blast him with my sight until he gives up and moves along. No use making that victim''s face to me, he knows damn well what he''s done.


    He doesn''t even try to talk to me anymore, which is good. But mom keeps giving me this heartfelt stare as I walk down to have breakfast. Gosh, I hate that so much.


    This annoying bitch should just leave me alone, but there she comes to "help" again. My body already contracts in anticipation.


    - Sarah, dear? - she says, a bit insecure.


    I nod, without raising my head, as I take a slice of bread.


    - I was- me and your dad were thinking, maybe you should go to college next year?


    I freeze in disbelief that she brought that up once again, but I play along for now:


    - Really? - I say, sarcastically, rolling my eyes.


    - We are really worried, dear. - she says as she sits beside me, in her most patronizing tone that I hate so much - you''re already 17 and almost finishing high school, and you don''t have any plans for the future. We talked about this, just choose anything sweetie, me and dad will pay for whatever you want to do.


    Support me she says, what a load of crap. They didn''t do anything as I delved into depression, even as I spent days on end in my room, by the bed. Even as I repeatedly failed to find and maintain friends. They still think I''m the cute, little happy girl daughter of my childhood, and fail to see how things changed.


    I can hardly pay she notices, as the most bizarre news ever starts rolling in the TV. Is it that old grafting hoax again? Can''t believe the kind of crap people fall for these days.


    - Yeah, yeah, I know, mom. - I say, angrily - don''t worry, okay? I am giving it thought, I''m just¡­ considering my options.


    I wasn''t. The future was crap, I really couldn''t picture myself in it, but the bitch needed to keep asking.


    She stares at me, a mix of sympathy and sadness in her gaze. She starts talking again about how much she loves me and how she will always be there for me, but I''m not listening.


    When she starts talking, literally anything else becomes more interesting. But right now specifically, that messed up news caught my attention.


    - ¡­ Right, Sarah? - she says, and in response, I pick up the remote and raise the TV volume.


    She turns around to watch it with me.


    - ¡­ as 2 more corpses were found this morning. Police are contacting scientific authorities all around the world to try to come up with an explanation. Witnesses allegedly saw the man being able to move the third arm haphazardly grafted to its t¨®rax and deliver a knife strike into the officer. The National Guard denies any such allegation and calls it the next chapter of a hoax that''s been rolling on social media ever since the start of the year. The man was sent to the local hospital, and his status is unclear. Further investigation is pending.


    I scoff at the news. I''m more used to the usual petty thievery, murder for ridiculous reasons, and politicians divesting money from poor kids, but that is kind of entertaining.


    - Whoa. Can you believe what the youngsters are doing these days? - I say, sarcastically - I wonder if next week''s fashion will include multiple pairs of legs. I might get the enhancement myself.


    I say in a joking tone, but Mom just stares at me horrified. I sigh and roll my eyes at her lack of dark humor. So much for trying to make conversation with her. I should''ve known better.


    - Fuck me, I guess. See ya, mom.


    I say, as I get up with my school bag and head out. She actually took her time to yell this:


    - Mind the language, miss!


    <hr>


    Fucking stupid middle-of-nowhere city, hope to see it catch fire one day. By the amount of dead trees and leaves, as well as smokers, it just might.


    I pull up my hoodie as I walk down the same stupid path to the same useless school from ever, through the same ugly landscape filled with gray buildings left to rot, and ugly ass houses with poorly kept neighborhoods. The graffiti could do worse though, I am actually pretty fond of it, particularly the breasty women with the cat ears right around here. Such vivid imagination, the artist has. These places are not too bad to hang around either, particularly for kids my age.


    I turn on my headphones as I pass down through the same old streets, filled with the same futile people, and put on the heaviest song I can find, not as much to listen to as to completely numb my senses, ignoring the volume of safety warnings. "Oh wow, she''s such a rebel!", yes. Yes, I am. Beats being a mindless sheep. I don''t care if you take me for an edgy bitch. At least that makes me fit somewhere.


    Makes me¡­ fit.


    Am I forgetting something? Just got this weird feeling that I forgot something important, like a sudden jolt piercing my thoughts. I was having the most surreal dream tonight, but I can''t remember what it was about. Could that be it?


    It''s probably nothing, it always is.


    Anyway, I get it, I complain a lot. Mom would say something along the lines "but the children in Africa¡­", as if I had anything to do with that. I get it that my life is better than most can claim, I get it that Father can provide for us with that stupid white neck job of his, but why should I feel any less miserable for that? Oh yes, so happy for having money, and an ever-so-absent father, working an ever-so-useless job by defending the very people that destroy our city, and our world as a consequence. I should be grateful for his choosing to destroy his marriage and miss every single music concert of his daughter.


    Shit, got a bit too riled up, let me cool down a bit. My blood boils to think about that crap. Let''s start again.


    Why should I feel any better for Crazy-eye Bob, my favorite beggar - oh hey, there he is! Such a nice dude, always that goofy toothless smile on his face, despite eating from the trash bin and sleeping in the open. He still smiles and waves for me every time, giving me the deepest life advice:


    - In life, good is paid with evil! - he says, as I give him the usual matinal bread.


    I swear, some days he teaches me more than school does. I bask in the newfound wisdom and move on as usual. Well, where was I? Oh yes.


    Do people really expect me to be happy just because my life is "good"? Fuck everyone else, I guess? Do people really live by that motto? And yet, I am the bitch? All there is is for us to consume and then begone, I guess?


    Wait¡­ Where did I hear that before?


    As usual, my thoughts take away the burden of the journey, as the school is just around the corner already. You can tell for two reasons: first, there is the ungodly amount of screeching, as most kids seem to copy from chimpanzees, much like their IQ. Secondly, the agglomeration around the building premises is also very ape-like in quality. Untold rules of social norms and superiority dictate who gets to feel superior to others, like the group of the bitches that get to lash out at the group of nerds, for instance. Humankind finds an excuse to excerpt dominance at what is perceived as their lesser, a necessity of violence. There is also the group of flamboyant heterosexual males who feel like they rule the world. If only they knew.


    Wait¡­ what the fuck is that supposed to mean? Goddammit, what''s wrong with me today? Did I use too many drugs last night?


    The school alarm takes my thoughts from less darkened horizons, and I proceed to my class for another productive day, by that, I mean a lot of snoozing off and doodling in my notebook. Another day here comes¡­

 Chapter 2

    In the classroom, I periodically raise my eyes from between clutched arms, shaded eyelids and black eye sockets disinterest incarnate, only so the teachers will stop bothering me so much. When the class ends, I''m left stirring uncomfortably in my seat as the teacher leaves the class, waiting for the next one. At this point, the classroom usually erupts in idle chatter and laughter, like a crowd of wild parrots. I never partake in any of that nor do I like it, but it is always a great opportunity to exert loathing and my staring bitch face. People would look strange at me, and I am delighted to retribute it tenfold. As you can see, I earned my supervillain persona.


    As I stirred in my seat, something caught my attention. Below the arms I used as a pillow lies my opened sketching book. Strange, I don''t remember taking this one out today, let alone drawing the weird ass thing I''m currently looking at.


    It appears I used charcoal to paint most of the page pitch black. I can barely see some swirling shapes within the page, but it''s unclear what has been drawn on it.


    What the fuck? Is someone trolling me? It can''t be, it''s even signed with my name in the corner. And my fingertips are stained with charcoal themselves. Did I just sleepwalk my way into drawing now? Jesus Christ.


    This pissed me off greatly, and I looked around to see if anyone looked suspicious. I''d hate the idea of someone taking my stuff, particularly my sketchbook. There is¡­ personal stuff in it. Things I won''t show anyone. Things are way too intimate to be shared.


    The day passes unusually fast as the last alarm rings and people rush to leave the place, but none as fast as me. Freedom at last, or something. Two days of reprieve from this meaningless activity until they end and I have to start it all over again, until I die and/or graduate. Hopefully, soon.


    My nervously-looking teachers appear even more nervous than usual, as they group up in some corner and start to talk loudly while pointing to some place in a newspaper. I catch a glimpse of the words "troubling scientific discovery" as I pass by. Whatever discovery he could be talking about? Hopefully some solution for that retracting hairline of his.


    What is wrong with people today?


    As I walk long steps toward the exit, an unbelievably annoying voice comes from behind, instantly draining my life force and making me roll my eyes all the way inside my skull:


    - Hey, bitch. - said Stacey, the most insufferable girl in this school.


    I swear I never saw her without at least two other girls around, as if she was planet bitch orbited by her satellite hoes:


    - Hey¡­ you! - I say as I turn around, with a big fake smile on my face.


    - Whoa, you really outdid yourself last night, didn''t you? They said they had to go buy more alcohol because you emptied all the stock. Drinking won''t make you any less unpopular, you know?


    I gesticulate a lot and smile sarcastically as I speak, imitating her fake way of being. This really messes her up.


    - Aw, that''s so adorable and so incorrect. That ugly-ass boyfriend of yours had already drunk half of it by the time I got there. I don''t judge him though, anyone would have to drink that much to be with you.


    I wish you could have seen her face. Suffice it to say that her eyes twitched, and her beta whores'' mouths made a perfect ''O''. Then, she proceeds to muster all her strength to suppress her contemptuous face as she says:


    - Right¡­ Oh, by the way, that stoner you hooked up with? He''s looking for you. You''ll be so cute together.


    Fuck, I completely forgot that. I started talking to this cute guy back at the party and we ended up making out a little. He''s an airhead though, I don''t want no nothing to do with him, but I didn''t expect him to come up looking for me after I gave him a fake number. I can''t hide my sour face after that.


    - Have fun, Sarah. - she says, as she parts away with her crowd. About time.


    But not soon did she leave, guess who came in my direction? Fuck me.


    - Yo, Sarah, what''s up? - says the boy I made out with. He wore a black jacket and the classic stoner cap. Exactly what he was wearing the night before.


    Shit, what was his name again? Jason? Mason? As if reading my mind, he does me the favor:


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    - It''s Samuel from yesterday, remember? - "Samuel"! Close enough. I make a face of relieved enlightenment as I smile - I had a pretty good time last night. Would you like to, you know, hang out some?


    I hesitated for a while, unable to answer right away. I didn''t mean to get this through, but he is kind of nice, sweet, and a good kisser.


    What the heck, I''m in for it. If anything, it will piss off my parents, which is great.


    - I had a pretty good time as well, Sam. - I say smiling. Even worse, I actually blush a little.


    Son of a bitch, who do you think you are to go and make me act all cute? I''ll not give him the satisfaction, and I''ll try my best to hide the feeling.


    - Do you have any particular place in mind¡­? - I say, trying to sound as aloft as possible as if I had so many other cooler options for the weekend. If only.


    - A few come to mind. - he says with a silly smile.


    Well, I had worse prospects. Beats going home, anyway. Something tells me this might not be too bad.


    _______________


    Well, well, well, Samuel, did you just read my mind or what? Consider me officially impressed.


    - Dude, I''ve been trying to get into this place for months. - I say, with a smile and raised eyebrow to Samuel.


    The nightfall disco has been notorious for featuring the best rock bands around here, so much so I''ve given up trying to find a vacancy. It is every bit of what I expected: dimly lit, interesting people as freaky as me, heavy smell of smokeables, and loud heavy metal drumming in my body membranes. In fact, so loud Samuel didn''t hear shit I just said:


    - WHAT? - he says, in my ear.


    - I SAID I''VE BEEN TRYING TO GET IN HERE LIKE FOREVER! - I say back in his ear, and I can''t help but giggle, Samuel has a kind of funny way.


    - OH, YEAH, YOU SEE, I¡­- he stops talking and signals me to come to a less noisy corner. I signal with the head that this might be a good idea, and follow his lead.


    We find a nice spot by a corner, where we can actually chat without being blasted by music. I usually prefer the music over petty conversation, but not today.


    - I was saying, my cousin is, like, very friends with the owner, you know? He gave me the tickets to bring a friend today as well.


    - Oh really? - I say teasingly - and you brought a random girl you picked up instead? - I make a sarcastic judgemental headshake.


    - Well, you see, - he says with an embarrassed smile - I was kind of hoping that, like, we could be more than that or something.


    I was taken aback by his comment, and my eyes went wide.


    - Really¡­? You¡­ like me? - I say timidly - Why?


    He seems to stutter for a moment, as he shakes his head around with a silly smile on his face.


    - I, uh, I don''t know, like, you are kind of cool and stuff, you know?


    - Really? - I smile, he is kind of sweet. People usually just think I''m a bitch - Thought you fancied goth girls with daddy issues.


    He gives a cute shy smile.


    - Well, yeah, you know, those are usually the best ones.


    Oh dear, his comment was so spontaneous that I couldn''t help but burst into laughter.


    We proceed to spend the evening engaged in conversation, I wouldn''t expect for us to have so much in common! We eventually ordered drinks and some snacks as we did so, until¡­


    - Oh god¡­ - I say in shock - that''s¡­ My music!


    He turns around to face the band as they start playing my favorite music ever. I seldom get to see other people with such good taste.


    - Really? That''s like my favorite music too! - he says, as he gets up and starts to dance clumsily.


    - No! Stop that! It''s so embarrassing - I say as I try holding back my laughter, failing miserably.


    - Come on girl, it would be embarrassing to not enjoy it, you know? - he says, as he extends me a hand in invitation.


    I''m covering my face in embarrassment, and other people are looking at us. Will he really force me into doing such a thing?


    - Come on, let''s have fun. - he says, hand still stretched.


    I consider for a few more seconds, until I finally give in, and people around us applaud me and I just want to die right now.


    He takes me by the hand and drags me to the dance floor.


    It was, like, so magical. I never get to spend time with someone else so intimately. The music was electrical, and the ambient was intoxicating. He grabbed me by the waist and pulled me closer as we danced together in synchrony.


    For a moment, I forgot about my hatred towards the world, my meaningless existence in this plane, every little thing that made me miserable, washed away.


    I was in a trance-like state of euphoria, the blasting sound of music and the warmth of Samuel''s body on my own was everything I could think of at that moment. I barely noticed the moment when we kissed again.


    Not simply a make-on, this time it was something else, something better. I felt safe, secure, and connected. Belonging.


    And then comes that weirdest feeling again, jumping me out of my fantasies, dragging me back to my world of mysery and hopelessness. I should''ve known good things don''t last. But why have I been feeling this lately?


    Samuel notices my distress, and he doesn''t say anything. I don''t know how is he able to be so understanding. He just hugs me tight, as tears go down my eyes. Then everything went good once more.

 Chapter 3

    It was getting late, and we decided to walk nearby. Lots of kids are roaming the streets tonight, and it feels busy and interesting. People are hanging out in groups, chatting and laughing, and, of course, drinking and smoking: the edgy part of the city. Feels like home for once.


    We walk down the streets without a care in the world, still chatting about our common interests. I''m hugging his arms tenderly, resting my head on his shoulder as I do so. If someone asks, I''ll deny it to death.


    We keep talking about common interests and stuff as we walk by. It seems like Sam is also a musician of sorts, and plays the guitar a bit. It''s almost as if he stepped out straight from my maiden fantasies.


    - Thank you, Sam. - I say, with a warm smile - you really know how to make a goth girl have a good time.


    - Oh, yeah. Man, I wish the guys back at school could see me now.


    I giggle at his comment.


    - Don''t worry, Sam, I bet everyone will want to know who''s brave enough to date the school''s edgy bitch.


    We laugh a bit, and then a moment of awkward silence comes. Oh no, not these. Thank god he didn''t take long to break the silence:


    - So... - he says, hesitantly - I don''t really know how to ask that, you know...


    - Oh? What is it? - I say. He definitely piqued my curiosity now.


    - It''s just... You''re such a sweet girl, you know? Why is it that you feel you have to act so dark and stuff?


    Ouch, that was really unexpected. Why did you have to ask that, Sam? Now I have no choice but to tell you...


    My gaze wanders for a moment as I think about my next words. I sigh.


    - I honestly don''t know. It just feels right. There is something so wrong with the world and people in general, I find solace in being as different from them as I can.


    We walk by slowly as my words fade out of existence.


    - You must think me weird, right?


    - No, not at all! - He says with an exaggerated hand gesture - I think you''re right. The world truly is messed up, you know? Like, people enjoy all kinds of violence and act as if they are completely normal. You... Are kind of the opposite.


    Gosh, that was so sweet. I''m speechless by his words, as I start to blush. How is it that he can read me so well? This is the cutest thing anyone ever told me.


    - I''m surely glad you take me out tonight, Sam. You nailed the choice of place as well - I say, as I lower my head, smiling.


    - Well, you know, I kind of suspected you''d like to come here. - he says confidently.


    - Really? And why is that?


    - You know, because you told me so yesterday.


    - What? I did not! - I say, slapping his arm softly.


    Now that I think about it, I think I kind of did tell him. Me and my big drunken mouth.


    - You so did, you know? - he says laughing - you also said some other embarrassing stuff.


    I gasped and looked at him in shock.


    - Oh my god, what did I say?!


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    - I''ll tell you in a moment. I just have to, you know... - he says, as we stop by a public bathroom.


    - Yeah, we did hydrate a lot tonight. Go on first, then I''ll be next. - I say as I signal for him to go inside.


    As Samuel goes inside, I wander nearby in wonder, staring at the starry night sky in deep thought, feeling an all-compassing sense of bliss. The night has a cool gentle breeze, and my senses go beyond the faint sound of music and chattering in the background, delving into blessed silence. A calm night in all regards, not too terrible to appreciate.


    As my gaze wanders, it lies down into a lonely figure by a darkened corner across the street.


    I''m not sure why, but my eyes instinctively lock on the cloaked figure, expectantly.


    There is something in his face, I can''t quite see what it is. I squint my eyes to try to discern the shapes, in vain. It was not until a passing car''s light illuminated it that I saw what it was.


    Or I thought I did, although I find it hard to believe, as I release a horrified, high-pitched scream. Let''s say I no longer needed to go to the bathroom.


    Samuel leaves the bathroom to find me in a horrified shock. I look at him trembling, inviting him to follow my gaze to the man by the dark corner, but no car''s light would help me right now.


    - What is wrong, baby? - he says, with a worried, confused expression.


    Should I just tell him the truth? Should I just tell him that I just saw a man with hands protruding from his eye sockets? I didn''t.


    - I just saw a kid eating ice cream from the floor. Disgusting. - I lied - it''s getting late, can you take me home?


    He signals positively as he heads to the garage to bring his car.


    I kept telling myself I had too much to drink, and/or the whole thing was a trick of light, or anything really, didn''t want to pay that too much thought. Despite that, my eyes were locked on the man by the corner until the very last moment it vanished from view, as Sam took me home with his car. He stayed immobile the whole time.


    <hr>


    It was almost 1 AM as he dropped me home. Nice car, his brother''s he says. Nice of him to lend it so his younger brother can pick up girls around.


    As the car stops, he holds my hand tenderly, giving me a sad puppy stare. I could tell it was because he didn''t want to let go because I didn''t want either, and answered him with the same stare.


    We kissed romantically, trying to futely delay the inevitable, but alas I had to go, lest I''d lose the strength to.


    - You were really sweet tonight. - I say, unusually emotional - I wish I could invite you to stay, but Dad would kill me.


    - Yeah, I totally understand. Another time, maybe.


    We kiss one last time as we smile tenderly at each other, and I make my way out of the car. Time to get back to reality.


    I remove my shoes and open the front door as slowly as I can. God knows I don''t want to end this night with a scold followed by a pep talk.


    Instead, I successfully sneak my way to my room and get to end this day thinking about the wonderful night I got to spend. Life unsuspectingly got good, and hope in humanity increased.


    I take a good shower and put on some pajamas. I fall down in my bed, exhausted, and release a cute, satisfied sigh, moaning in comfort. I forgot to turn the bathroom light off, but I don''t even care, I''ll sleep just like that.


    As I lay down in my bed, I started to fantasize about how much better this night could have ended. You know what I mean. I fall to sleep just like this, certain that nothing but good dreams is to come ahead.


    Unfortunately, my mind had other plans for my sleep.


    That night, I fell fast asleep, but something woke me up at some point. I woke up startled by some noise coming from the illuminated bathroom, only to find out I was unable to move a muscle.


    I stare nervously at the door, listening for the source of the noise, when I start to see shifting shadows coming from inside it. Did a raccoon enter through the window again?


    It would have to be a massive raccoon to cast that big of a shadow. And a bipedal one too.


    And he would need to have hands for eyeballs.


    I panic, as the shrouded figure from earlier stands at my doorstep, his face now fully visible by the bathroom''s light.


    Those hideous hands in his face squirmed in agony as the figure slowly got closer to me, not walking, but immobile, as if floating.


    I try to scream, but a muffled moan comes out instead. My heart is pounding in my ears as I start crying, the figure just standing by my bed, staring at me with an eyeless face.


    Then I''m not sure what happened, but all of a sudden he is right above me, from behind.


    His hands outstretched from his eye sockets, making a disgusting squishy sound, some viscous liquid leaking out of it and into my face, into my eyes, into my mouth.


    His hands reach for me and pull me closer to his gaping mouth, that stretches like a python''s, and inside of it, endless eyestalks stare at me. "We will finally be as one now", he says. It''s all over, I''ll be consumed. A fate worse than death awaits me.


    Everything goes black as my body is swallowed alive by darkness, all the while those endless eyes stare at me and laugh.

 Chapter 4

    I wake up, jumping out of bed in a jump scare, morning rays casting lights through my room''s curtains. The light in my bathroom is still turned on. I jump off of bed and go straight to it, in search of monsters. But alas, nothing there. I sigh in relief as I let my body lean on the wall, landing my hand on my forehead.


    What a dumb shit, getting so worked up because of a nightmare. I''m not eight anymore. Still, of course, there had to be something to shake me out of my bliss. Speaking of which...


    "Good morning, my favorite goth slut.", reads Samuel''s message on my phone. I smirk in response, amused by his audacity. "Good morning, my favorite drug addict". He sends a laughing emoji in response. What an idiot. My idiot.


    I guess I''m an idiot too for getting so relaxed by such small words. I didn''t know I could be like that. Not anymore at least, not since...


    Oh, yes. I''ve only come to realize Samuel reminds me of my sweet childhood friend, back when life was simpler, before so many painful questions, as well as so many scars on my forearms... I wonder how he''d be right now. I wonder how everything would have been different if he...


    No, not now. I won''t let such intrusive thoughts ruin my bliss. And so, I take a few long breaths and do the unthinkable: I allow myself to feel grateful. That''s right, y''all goth fuckers! God won today, we''re best friends now! Life is good again.


    Let the sun shine upon this room! I open wide the curtains and make the bed, put on some nice, loud music, and take a nice, long shower. From my wardrobe, I pick my more light clothes, you know, stuff of the rainbow or maybe plain white. I''m just glad I didn''t set fire to those before now.


    I walk down the stairs feeling quite light, like a Disney princess in her singing scene, an unusual sight for my parents. I just can''t wait to tell them everything about Samuel, and how much I like him. Maybe they get a little bitchy, but I''m sure they''d be glad to see me well.


    They look at each other suspiciously as I sit by the table, still humming my favorite music from yesterday.


    I spread butter in a slice of bed and serve a mug of coffee, as I realize they are both staring at me in silence, dead serious:


    - What? - I say, half laughing yet.


    They look at each other before looking at me again. Oh no, that can''t be good. I instinctively frown.


    - Sarah, - says father, insecurity overflowing on his face - what time did you get home last night?


    Oh, that''s all? That''s an easy one to handle, dad.


    - I got like, 10 pm I think? - I say, wrinkling my face pretending to remember what time I got home, as if I didn''t know exactly how much I arrived past what I was allowed to.


    - You''re lying. - he says rapidly, startling me - I waited for you to arrive up to 0 am yesterday.


    - You know very well your time is 10 pm, miss. - says Mother, impatiently.


    I usually can easily handle these situations, but I was too focused on happiness for a change, and this whole thing caught me off guard.


    - Alright, everything is fine! I was just hanging out with my friends, okay? No big deal. - I said, eager to dismiss this situation as soon as possible, but instead, they kept pushing.


    - It doesn''t matter, Sarah. - says Father, eagerly this time, and with increased rage in his voice - this house has rules, and you are not doing your part. You don''t have to do anything else here besides studying, and your school keeps calling us to complain about your grades and bad behavior.


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    He continues:


    - As if it wasn''t enough, Ms. Clara called us today, saying her son told her he saw you with a stoner boy twice now. Is that true?


    That slut of an old woman, doesn''t she have anything better to do than gossip about who I date?!


    - Yeah, so what? He is really nice, and sweet, and cares about me. Is that not enough?


    That''s right, daddy. Big talk for someone addicted to sleep medicine and morphine. Do you really get to judge?


    - He is not enough. You can do so much better, my daughter! Someone with a future. You just... keep making all the wrong choices!


    - Well, perhaps I am allowed to make mistakes while I am young? Who said I even planned to marry him anyway? Jesus Christ, dad.


    What the fuck? Did they really plan an intervention for a weekend morning?


    - We''re worried about you, Sarah. - says Mom - You''ve... changed. We don''t understand you anymore. I get it that being a teenager can be difficult, but -


    - You... "Get it"...? - I interrupt her, unable to hold back any longer - Right. You grow-ups know everything, don''t you? You know everything, and yet do everything wrong.


    - Sarah... is this all about Adam?


    I freeze in my tracks, tears welling up in my eyes. I can''t believe she is bringing my dead childhood friend up for no reason whatsoever.


    - Ever since that happened... I know it''s been difficult on you, sweetie. Please, just tell us what we can do about it.


    - Why... would you say that? - I ask confused, tears rolling down my face.


    Surely, my best friend died in an accident by the time I was about to become a teenager, leaving me alone and without being able to make new friends could have had some impact on my misery. Thanks for taking 7 years to notice, Mom.


    - Sarah, we care deeply about you and want to help you with anything you face. But you are young - answers Father - so you really should listen to us when we tell you things, we only want the better for you.


    He just said that, again. That''s enough for me.


    - Oh really? You want what is best for me, Daddy? - I say, lashing out big time now - do you have any idea how many times I wanted to talk to you about how I feel? And did you know how that went? It''s always either "I''m too busy with work", or "This is silly, it will go away soon", or you using me as a punching bag for your useless corporate problems, releasing your frustration on me? Did you wish the best for me, Dad? - I''m crying at this point, and so are them.


    - Sweetie, I just... - he lowers his head and cries deeper - I just don''t know what to do, okay? I''m sorry if I failed you as a father, but I thought that giving you a good life with money was all I needed.


    - Seriously? Now you want to act like a parent? Don''t you have some corrupt politician to defend right now?


    - That''s enough! Your father is good, Sarah - says Mom - don''t be so harsh with him. We are just trying to protect you.


    - Protect me?! - I lash out in indignation - you don''t even know who I am! You don''t even bother to ask anymore. You don''t care for my feelings or what I want, you don''t care that I''ve been suffering for so long now. And now you want to talk to me like I owe you anything?!


    I just can''t believe this crap! I''m actually trying to tell them I''m genuinely happy this time, and they are just dismissing everything into "teen''s bullshit"?


    - It''s okay, honey. - he says, shrugging his tears - please, forgive me dear, we are going to work this out, I promise, but that is no excuse for you to act so disrespectfully. While you are below this ceiling, you need to follow our rules.


    Alright. I had enough. Foolish of me to think I could share my bliss with my parents. No, foolish of me to think I deserve any at all.


    I allow a moment of deadly silence to settle in before I speak my mind again:


    - You can do that for now, Dad, but soon you won''t get to dictate my every move anymore, and by that time I will gladly vanish from your life like you did from mine, and you can''t expect me to ever come to see you again. You''ll wither in a hospital bed, alone, with your only offspring never wanting to see your face again, and wondering "Whatever is it that you did wrong". - I say, but words barely form beyond my trembling voice - Wonder not, "daddy". Brand this moment in your thoughts forever.


    I stand up abruptly as I run back to my room, leaving my weeping parents behind. I start to cry myself as I lock the door behind me. Just cold, empty tears of despair.


    I''m... Speechless. Back to goth, I guess. God is a bitch, darkness won.


    Holy fucking shit.

 Chapter 5

    I don''t know how long I''ve been staring blankly at the ceiling of my bedroom, hugging my pillows in the fetal position.


    My tears have long dried, but my eyes are still burning. The day started with a bright sun, but now it has become cloudy and prone to rain, not unlike my day itself.


    I suddenly feel like taking a walk. My parents weren''t there as I crossed the kitchen and the living room, which is good.


    As I set myself to wander aimlessly, a fine rain started to fall. I simply pull up my hoodie and ignore it as I move forward. I could use the refreshments actually.


    I allow the rain to wash away my anger and sadness, as I roam the streets in search of meaning, in search of comfort.


    I pass by crazy-eyed Bob, but he is turned to the corner, babbling some crazy shit. I pay him no mind. I don''t have the disposition to be kind to beggars right now.


    I sit down by a bench in the park as the rain subdues a bit. I proceed to lie and sit miserably until a voice brings me up.


    - Sarah? What are you, like, doing here by yourself? - Says Samuel''s voice.


    No fucking way. It''s almost like he''s always been conveniently there for me when things have been going to shit lately. It''s almost too good to believe.


    I stood my head up slowly, scared I was just imagining things. But no, he was in fact there, atop a bicycle, his typical crooked smile on his face.


    - Hi... - I say, resigned - Just had a huge fight with my parents. I told them some heavy shit I thought I wanted to say, but it didn''t feel that good in the end.


    His smile falls into shock for a moment.


    - Oh. - he says, then proceeds to sit beside me - that kind of sucks.


    - It was long due, to be honest.


    He wraps one arm around me and brings me closer. I rest my head on his chest in silence. This already makes me feel better by itself.


    I raise my head, and turn to him:


    - Can I ask you something? - I say, and he nods - why do you think that we must suffer so much? Why must everything always be so hard to deal with when humans are involved? Why would god allow it?


    He reflects for a second, trying to connect his two remaining brain cells.


    - Uh... I guess we are meant to suffer, you know? Or something.


    I spent some time reflecting on his unexpectedly witty answer.


    - Yeah... that sucks. - I say after a pause - I kind of wish we didn''t.


    - Uhm. Grandma says nothing good ever comes without suffering. And maybe that''s true. I mean, working out is painful as shit, but look - he pulls back his sleeves to show an ever so slightly muscular biceps - it pays off.


    I just can''t help but stare blankly, holding up a laugh. Well, at least he is trying to make me feel better.


    - Thank you for coping with my crazy shit. - I tell him - You could do much better than picking up girls like me.


    - No, don''t say that. You''re my girlfriend, and I''m glad for that.


    I lean backward from him in shock:


    - Hold up, your what now?


    - My girlfriend? You know? - he says, confused.


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    - You never said anything about wanting me as your girlfriend.


    - Oh crap, I had to say it?! - he says, desperation on his face - Shit, I thought we already were. I''m glad you told me!


    I stare blankly at his stupid face.


    - Dude, of course, you have to say it! How was I supposed to know?! - I say, genuinely angry now.


    - Well, I don''t know, I just... I don''t know. You know?


    Jesus, I just can''t get angry at this dude. It''s physically impossible, he is too pure. I burst into laughter, burying my face in his chest while I do so.


    - You''re an idiot. - I say with tears of joy rolling down my cheeks.


    - Uh... Yeah, fair enough. - he answers, not a shame in the world - wait... does that mean you accept me as your girlfriend? OH NO, - he wrinkles his face as if doing mental calculations - your boyfriend I meant! You being my girlfriend, that''s what I mean. You know?


    Whoa. How could I possibly deny such an eloquent proposal?


    - You really know how to pave your way through a girl''s heart. I mean, the way you talk just... blows my mind.


    He gives me this dead serious expression as if taking what I just said literally. He is not aware of his own greatness:


    - Are you serious? - he says.


    - Sure... - I say sarcastically. And he just starts smiling proudly. How not to love him?


    - Wait... is that a yes them?


    I smile at him suspensefully, then kiss him passionately:


    - Yes, dummy. I only needed to know you wanted to.


    We hold hands and make out a little, and then just lay there in each other''s embrace for some time.


    - You know what we should do? - he says, breaking the silence suddenly - let''s just, like, vanish for some time, you know?


    - What? Vanish? No!


    - No, no, hear me out! My brother has this cabin back in the country, you know? We can take the car and just spend some days there, just you and me.


    I entertain the thought for a moment. What if?


    - I... I don''t know, Sam. That''s... kinda crazy. Fleeing home?


    - Yeah, so what? We just leave for a while, away from everything, parents, school, all the crap, you know? Just you and me for some time, and then we get back, refreshed and stuff. You know?


    A little out-of-season vacation? Not gonna lie, that''s not too bad of an idea. And my parents will be so pissed...


    ... which is great!


    - Hmm. Just you and me for several days, uh? - I stare at him teasingly - you definitely don''t have second intentions in mind, do you?


    He immediately blushes and goes all embarrassed:


    - Well, uh, I mean... you know?


    <hr>


    I just lose the sense of time as we hang out by the park when all of a sudden a man approaches us. It scares me a bit, but I immediately see it is crazy-eyed Bob. But... something is off.


    He always has this wide grin on his face, but today his face was completely somber as if he was mourning or something.


    - Hey Bob, sorry, I don''t have bread today, but here is a bit of money for your breakfast - I say, as I reach into my pockets for some money, but he doesn''t react to it, in fact, he doesn''t even look at it - ... is everything alright, Bob?


    He stares blankly right past us as if gazing into something unseen, which really starts to freak us out.


    - Why you, Sarah? I don''t get it. - he says in an atypical serious and dark tone, very different from his usual joyful way of talking. He leans down and looks me dead in the eyes - You will need to be strong, Sarah. He loves you too much. - he says, then starts crying.


    I''m really freaking out right now. What the fuck is this old braggart talking about?!


    I was starting to lose my shit when a car honk scares me out of the moment, sending Crazy-eyed Bob walking away to his own business. You gotta be kidding me.


    My mother and father were inside our car, and they signaled me to come inside. We look at each other distraught, but I give Samuel a last kiss and make my way inside without a word.


    We exchange looks until we are out of sight. We have been separated for now, but we both know we''ll be together soon.


    Didn''t exchange a single word with my parents from the moment I got in, to the moment I locked myself in my bedroom.


    Between my malefic plans with Samuel, my problem with Dad and mom, and that weird-ass interaction with Bob, I have a lot in my mind to deal with right now. Honestly, so much weird shit happening around lately, it doesn''t even look like the same old, boring city anymore.


    <hr>


    I start to write down my plans and pack up my stuff as I discuss the details with Sam by texting. This is gonna be huge!


    Let''s see: let''s grab my best clothes, then there are my shoes, my makeup... I''d have gone to buy new underwear if I knew this would happen, but anyway. I dress up a bit in front of the mirror, trying costumes I think Samuel would like. I got my corset, my garter belt, leggings, and my best necklaces. Not bad, Sarah, I think to myself.


    Then, I''d pack up some books in case I felt like reading, and my sketchbook in case I started to feel artistic. Who knows what the natural environment might inspire me to do. Perhaps I even get wild and start singing again a little.


    With my luggage ready, I go to bed anxious for tomorrow, texting Samuel until I fall asleep right there in the spot.

 Chapter 6

    The next morning, I jumped out of bed as we set our plan in motion. I write down a little message for my parents, saying I''ll be going away for a while, exploring "new perspectives", and by that, I mean Samuel. I''ll make them think I joined some study group for college or something, just so they freak out a bit less.


    As I walk past my parents'' closed bedroom, they call for my name. "Sarah? Sarah, come here", they say in unison, for whatever reason. I just stayed in silence and slipped my way past their door through the exit. I can''t believe how easy it was to sneak past them, even with my huge luggage in my hands. Not intent on abusing my luck, I still make haste as I shut the door behind me and run.


    Sam was already waiting for me nearby with his car across the street, and he waved at me as I got close. I throw my pack in the trunk and enter the car laughing naughty, lowering my head until we are at least one road across my house. We both keep giggling as if we executed the most intricate evil master plan ever. I just love how we are retarded together.


    My heart is pounding, I''m slightly scared but also excited, and I can''t stop smiling. I''m running away with a dude I met 3 days ago. Jesus, I''m such a crazy slut.


    He looks at me and smiles, making a tranquilizing effect on me. We turn up the music as we take the highway, towards the cabin in the woods. Ah, the bliss of being young and stupid.


    It wasn''t more than 15 minutes of driving that the civilized landscape started to give way to a rougher road, paved with trees and natural beauty, a sense of adventure hanging heavy in the air.


    It was early in the morning, and the sun''s golden rays broke through the leaves overhead, while the forest welcomed us with a chorus of chirping birds and rustling leaves.


    The road pierced a labyrinth of towering trees, their trunks adorned with moss and lichen, like ancient sentinels guarding the secrets of the woods. Sunlight filtered through the dense canopy, casting dappled shadows on the ground, creating a mesmerizing play of light and dark. Wouldn''t be surprised if a mythical creature jumped from these trees.


    A gentle breeze whispered through the forest, carrying with it the fragrance of pine and the distant promise of adventure, and the sound of rustling leaves and the occasional scurry of a squirrel or the distant call of a hidden bird were the only interruptions in our tranquil journey.


    Moss-covered rocks and babbling brooks crossed our path, beckoning them to pause and drink in the pristine beauty of the wilderness. The air was cool and crisp, invigorating their spirits with each breath. Couldn''t tell the last time I breathed air so pure. Perhaps this trip was long overdue.


    The whole trip took about 2 hours as we went deeper and deeper into the woods. Then, a lovable log cabin started to show from among the trees and bushes.


    As Samuel parked the car, we approached the cabin nestled among the tall trees, and the scent of aged wood and the earthy aroma of the forest surrounded us. I could hear birds and other wildlife sounds across the forest. I noticed a crystalline river running nearby, and there were even swans swimming about. Can that get more romantic or what?


    I smile in awe as we get out of the car, the fresh grass damp with the morning dew until I step into the rocky footwalk that led to the front door.


    The cabin''s cozy front porch beckoned with two old rocking chairs, their creaks echoing the stories of countless evenings spent in quiet contemplation. Overhead, a wooden balcony jutted out, its railing adorned with hanging flower baskets that added splashes of color to the serene tableau.


    He unlocks the front door into the coziest place I ever saw in my life, stuff from movies. It''s adorned with a brass knocker in the shape of a bear, and creaked open with an inviting groan, revealing a warm interior bathed in sunlight. The walls were lined with rough-hewn planks. A stone fireplace dominated the living room, its mantel adorned with knick-knacks collected over the years.


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    The furniture was a mix of handmade wooden pieces and plush cushions, offering comfort amid the wilderness. A large bay window framed a breathtaking view of the forest outside, as if Mother Nature herself had decided to be their decorator. And boy, does she have good taste.


    Every nook and cranny of the cabin seemed to whisper secrets of its past, years after years of family vacation being passed for generations. It was a place where time moved slowly, and the outside world felt miles away. A charming place for sure.


    My ovaries tremble at the thought of settling down here permanently. Maybe one day, if I am to dream, and Samuel to deserve.


    Sam starts to empty the trunk of luggage as I wander his cabin in wonder. I''d help him do it, but I''m sure he wants to show his goodwill and strength to his new girlfriend, and I won''t deprive him of that.


    He has brought quite a lot to our little trip, with groceries for a month at least, a panic bag full of useful crap, and several games and sports tools for us to play, showcasing excellent planning and organizing. This trip gets better by the minute.


    If the world were ever to end, he''s someone I''d like by my side.


    We spend time organizing stuff in the kitchen, opening the house and dusting some of the furniture, turning on the electric appliances, and storing food in their respective places. It will start to feel like home in no time, I''m sure.


    He then invited me upstairs. As we climbed the creaking wooden staircase to the upper level of the cabin, we discovered two enchanting bedrooms. Each room was a haven of rustic comfort and charm.


    The first bedroom, adorned in shades of deep forest green and earthy browns, boasted a king-sized bed with a hand-carved wooden headboard. The quilted bedding appeared as if it had been lovingly stitched by a skilled artisan. Sunlight filtered through gauzy curtains adorned with delicate pinecone patterns, casting warm, dappled patterns across the room.


    A handwoven rug in muted hues graced the polished wooden floor, offering a soft, welcoming touch underfoot. On one wall, a collection of vintage landscape paintings celebrated the surrounding wilderness. A cozy armchair sat by a small window, the perfect spot to lose oneself in a good book.


    - This is usually my room, you know? - he says, proudly.


    - It''s adorable. But hopefully, we get to use the adult''s room this time?


    In the second bedroom, a softer palette of sky blues and gentle creams set a more tranquil mood. The queen-sized bed was adorned with crisp white linens, and a patchwork quilt bore the image of soaring eagles in flight. A quaint writing desk sat against one wall, complete with a leather-bound journal and antique inkwell, evoking the spirit of a bygone era.


    The windows in both bedrooms opened to reveal breathtaking views of the forest canopy, where leaves danced in the breeze and birds flitted about. The rooms were not just places to sleep; they were sanctuaries of relaxation and reflection, where one could easily lose track of time while listening to the gentle rustling of leaves and the occasional distant call of a forest creature.


    This is already turning out to be better than I expected. I lay my bag in a corner, as I hop on Eric in kisses.


    - Everything here is just perfect. - I said - I''m so happy to be here with you.


    He smiles and kisses me, then I kiss him back, harder. We exchange inquisitive looks, and things start to heat up as we kiss more. We sit in the bed as we snuggle. I was waiting for nightfall to make an advance on him, but I can''t take it any longer anymore, I feel it has to be now.


    I stare at him endearingly, and I can see he is a bit timid to take it onward, so I take things slowly.


    He hesitates for a moment, but I signal him forward. I want this, and I know he does as well.


    - You know, I''ve been fantasizing about this moment with you. - I say kissing him softly, as his hands run through my skin - And you know what? - I whisper in his ear - today is my birthday.


    - What? Why didn''t you tell me? I''d have brought you cake.


    That''s definitely not why I told him that right now.


    - You can give me something else. - I say teasingly and, by the look on his face, it seems he understood what I meant now.


    Oh yes, he definitely understood. He understood it so well.


    Well, what do you know? A fat cock did help me fill my hollowness.

 Chapter 7

    The freedom that a cabin in the woods enables is a sight to behold.


    Our days at the cabin were filled with a kaleidoscope of activities, mostly things we do between having drugs and/or sex. The things you can do when your smartphone has no signal.


    We''d snuggle up to watch movies beneath the canopy of towering trees, the dappled sunlight casting ever-shifting patterns on the screen. Our laughter would blend with the rustling leaves and the distant call of forest birds. Then by the night, we coiled inside by the chimney watching horror movies, accompanied by the mysterious dark forest night or the foreboding sound of falling rain, creating the perfect spooky scenario to scare us both. Samuel is amusingly easy to scare, but he still faces onward. Such a brave cutie.


    Exploration became our pastime. We took strolls into the woods, our footsteps rustling through a carpet of pine needles. The air carried the earthy scent of moss and the tantalizing aroma of wildflowers. Every walk was a new adventure, and I always got a bit too excited whenever I spotted a mushroom or a squirrel.


    The river became our playground, its crystalline waters inviting us to take a refreshing dip. The cool embrace of the current would wash away the warmth of the day, leaving us invigorated and alive. Also, most of the time we''d do it right there by the shore, like a couple of horny merfolks.


    We captured our moments of silliness with photos and videos, freezing laughter and joy in pixelated form. Ah, so many good ones, I''ll suffer to decide which ones to frame. Sometimes, I would lose myself in the landscape, sketching the majesty of the woods, my pencil strokes becoming love letters to nature. This place left me inspired in multiple ways.


    As the sun dipped below the horizon, the lake''s surface would shimmer like a liquid mirror, mirroring the stars above. By the crackling bonfire, I''d serenade the night with melodies that echoed through the forest, while Samuel''s fingers danced over the strings of his guitar, creating a symphony for the wilderness. Our laughter, our songs, and the whispering wind would blend into a harmonious night, a celebration of life and love in the heart of nature.


    We also cooked, and he was very good at the kitchen. I''d usually make dinner, and he would make breakfast and lunch mostly. If this were to last, I''m certain we would make up for a great couple. I felt like a child again, for all the good reasons. Well, except for the sex. That made me feel very adult.


    When we had enough, we''d just sit beside each other in silence, usually while I read a book and Samuel played video games, or he''d just rest his head on my thighs, and that was still perfect.


    - I''m a bit worried - I said to him one night, as we drank while sitting on the balcony - we''ve been together for so long now. How am I supposed to deal with my farts near you?


    - Well... - he says while choking in the drink as he laughs - You may just fart in the woods back there, just be careful not to scare the wildlife.


    We both start laughing like two hyenas as I jokingly punch him. One way or another, this guy always makes me happy.


    I''m not sure I''d have done anything differently if I knew this would be the very last time I''d have anything other than horror in my life.


    <hr>


    We spent our days in the most light-hearted activities. Everything was fine except for one night, a few days after we arrived.


    We were fast asleep in the middle of the night when something unbelievable happened. An impossibly loud bellowing echoed throughout the sky as if a colossal creature was screaming from the top of its lungs. At first, I believed it to be a dream, but Samuel woke up as well, scared shitless. The scream lasted for about five seconds and seemed to have been coming from all directions, echoing in the sky, shaking doors and windows in the house, and triggering the car alarm. The sound of hundreds of birds and wild animals fleeing and screaming could be heard immediately afterward. We ran straight to the balcony, leaving outside to see if we could spot the source of the noise.


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    Nothing, just pitch-black darkness on a starless, moonless sky. After a few seconds, the forest fell into absolute silence, not a single cicada screeching or any frog croaking. That was really fucked up.


    I kept up with Samuel as he fetched the car''s keychain to turn off the alarm, and he instinctively kept it close that night. We spent several minutes staring at the darkness outside, now completely devoid of the once abundant wildlife sound seconds earlier, leaving the inanimate sounds such as the flow of the river and the rumble of the wind in the leaves ominously lifeless. Nothing really happened after this.


    We spent the next hour debating what could have been that. The first thing that came to my mind was an earthquake. I heard people can hear the craziest shit coming from inside the earth during those. But then, there was no tremor. Perhaps a volcano? But there is none even close to here. Could it be some weird weather phenomena involving wind? Those are quite mysterious. Alas, many tales tell of weird ominous sounds echoing in the sky before catastrophic events, so that was unsettling enough to me, sending chills down my spine. I felt so vulnerable out there in the woods, all alone with Samuel, deep in the dark.


    Clueless and powerless, we eventually ignore the occurrence and fall back into sleep. It''s kinda funny how things beyond our comprehension can be quickly dismissed as normal when we are not able to find a solution for it, not unlike slow-boiling a frog alive. "There''s surely an explanation, we just don''t know what yet", we tell ourselves to sleep better. But perhaps that''s the very human attribute that enables us to survive what should never be meant to be seen in the first place.


    The next day, I could swear I saw a two-headed swan in the lake, but it was probably a perspective trick with a second swan.


    <hr>


    It''s hard to say how many days have passed since we arrived. I had trouble counting after the second week, then stopped caring by the third. Nevertheless, we both feel that the time has come.


    It''s seldom a nice feeling to pack up from a good trip to return home, particularly when home sucks. But still, we needed to do that.


    There goes the process of shutting the whole house down and packing everything we brought here. It''s so sad to leave behind the memories and feelings we''ve been through here, but these will live forever in our hearts as, hopefully, one of many such moments.


    We say goodbye to our little cabin, as we are ready to depart. I was just about to set foot inside the car when a sudden realization left me puzzled. I stop in my tracks and gaze at the cloudy skies above, focused, trying to see, trying to listen.


    - What''s wrong? - said Samuel, catching my unease.


    I gaze for a few more seconds before answering with a shrug.


    - Nevermind.


    We enter the car and set our journey back home, but my mind goes into introspection. The forest surely was quiet today compared to when we arrived.


    When was the last time I heard any sound coming from wildlife here? Was it the bellowing?


    <hr>


    We set our way out of our little vacation as the cabin nestled deep within the woods gradually faded into the rearview mirror, and the car delved into the setting sun. The car''s tires hummed on the winding road, creating a sense of both anticipation and unease. Our quiet conversations occasionally punctuated the otherwise serene drive. I was occasionally leaning against the window, watching the trees and wilderness blur into the distance.


    The transition from our remote hideaway to the urban sprawl was marked by subtle shifts. The lush greenery gave way to tall buildings and billboards looming on the horizon as we neared the city limits.


    I couldn''t help but feel a sense of melancholy as the cabin''s tranquility faded into memory. It was as if the world we had created together in the woods had been a fragile bubble, now on the verge of bursting.


    Samuel, sensing my emotions, reached for my hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. I managed a faint smile in return, a silent acknowledgment of our shared experiences.


    The whole road was surprisingly empty, even as we approached the city limits, and therefore it was an easy trip bellow the sky''s orange sunset.


    This trip was reinvigorating, and I feel like a new girl - no, a new woman. I feel like now I have the will and strength to make things right. It was no more of a physical journey as it was a spiritual one.


    The first thing I''m going to do is go home, and apologize to Mom and Dad, then lay everything plainly to them. Perhaps this will make it easier for us to understand each other. It makes me nervous, but I smile at the prospect. I feel confident for once.


    I feel like things are finally going to work out in my life.


    I couldn''t be more wrong.

 Chapter 8

    What the fuck was that feeling...?


    When we ever so slightly crossed the city''s threshold, an overwhelming sense of dread took over my body as if the world was falling over me. I start to shake in place as cold sweat drips down my face and my face drops to my legs.


    I barely noticed when Samuel slowly stopped the car. I''m too scared to look.


    I slowly raise my head to meet his face.


    I''m too scared to look.


    Sam is frozen solid with an expression of pure horror looking ahead. But at what?!


    I''m too scared to look.


    I freeze my gaze on Sam''s face, but I need to see what''s happening. Don''t I? I start to babble incoherently.


    I''m too scared to look. Please, don''t make me look.


    Cold tears start to drip from my face, as my neck slowly starts to turn to face forward, and therefore... look.


    I don''t wanna look. I''m too scared to look.


    I wanna look.


    The horizon devoured the setting sun, taking with him the cast shadows along the street but not the sickening orange tint, leaving no doubt behind.


    I''m looking.


    ...


    ...


    ...


    Oh.


    So that''s what he is looking at.


    But... What is that?


    - Sam...? - I say, but a barely intelligible noise comes out instead.


    He stomps the accelerator and maneuvers the car in another direction.


    - Sam?! - I scream, now crying.


    He maneuvers haphazardly around the unspeakable things scattered along the street.


    - My family is out of town. Let''s get to your parents. - he says, trembling.


    <hr>


    The wheels tear at the asphalt as Samuel gets us home, and stops the car abruptly in the garage.


    I unsheathed the seatbelt and stormed out of the car as I started screaming for Mom and Dad, but alas no answer. The house is closed shut and dark, with no sign of movement.


    After the sunset, the streets are getting darker by the instant, holding nameless horrors in their clutch. I... Don''t want to see it again. Gods, I hope Mom and Dad are alright.


    I open my bag clumsily in search of my keys. My hands are shaking so much I can barely land the right key in the front door''s lock, but after a few tries, I do it.


    I open the front door from one darkness unto another. The inside of the house looks pretty much exactly as it was when I left it several days ago, as I turn the light on.


    - Mom? Dad?! - I scream, but my voice echoes through the empty house, without an answer.


    I hone my senses trying to hear over my own heavy breathing and shaking.


    I believe I make out the slightest sound, barely more than a whisper, comes out the word "Sarah", from what appears to be my parent''s room.


    A sudden jolt of hope lights up in my heart, but it''s instantly snuffed out by Samuel''s desperate scream.


    - SARAH!


    I turn my head towards the doorstep to see him pointing outside into the shadows.


    I come closer to him and try discerning the shapes into the dark, as I climb into Sam and follow his finger. I squint my eyes looking for any shape in the night, trying to catch a glimpse of whatever startled Samuel so much.


    And then it steps into the streetlight... And I see it.


    The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    ... And it sees us.


    It screeches and then dashes toward us.


    - OH MY GOD! Close the door! Close the door! - I say in desperation.


    We shut the door abruptly, and it immediately starts to pound on it violently.


    In desperation, we throw everything we can at the door, barricading it with the table and the refrigerator, and Samuel scrambles the kitchen for the largest knife he can find.


    We step away from the pounding door, and Samuel instinctively embraces me with one arm while holding the knife in front of us.


    And then I hear it again, coming from upstairs: "Sarah".


    Of course, I still have to save Mom and Dad! They must be terrified in their bedroom, hiding from monsters!


    My vision blurs as my own breath adds up to the screeching of the creature outside. I start to see in tunnel vision.


    I stumble up the stairs.


    Together with the panic, the darkness makes it hard to navigate, and I have to touch my way ahead.


    I head to their bedroom.


    I start to think about all the terrible things I told my parents, and how happy I am about to become when we get to exchange how we really feel for each other. Soon, everything would be fine.


    I reach for their door knob.


    "Sarah? Sarah my dear, is that you?", says my parent''s voices coming from within.


    - Mom, Dad, we need to get out of here! Come on, lets-


    I reach for the light switch.


    My scream pierced the air, but it seemed to do little to drown out the nightmarish tableau sprawled across my parents'' bed.


    A pulsating, squirming mass of writhing limbs and slick, glistening tentacles clung to the bedframe, bearing the grotesque semblances of both my mother and my father, fused together by the cheeks.


    "Sarah, sweetheart," the abomination hissed, their voices a haunting fusion of my parents'' familiar tones, "we''re overjoyed you''ve returned."


    It began to weep. Strange, gelatinous tears fell from the eyes that shouldn''t exist.


    My horrified screams gave way to a wordless catatonia. Behind me, Samuel appeared, his eyes wide with terror.


    Fleshy pseudopods writhed and contorted in all directions, their movements as unsettling as the creature itself. One of them, timid and probing, reached toward my feet, and I instinctively jerked away, recoiling from the grotesque entity that had once been my parents.


    "Sarah, we''re so sorry," the thing continued, its voice dripping with grotesque sincerity. "We see it all now, the clarity we''ve gained. We finally understand now... We finally understand you, our daughter. Forgive us. Come join us now, dear. Mom and Dad love you, we love you so much."


    An endless abyss reached from my insides, as my lungs felt vacuum locked into my chest, unable to contract. The unspeakable sight at hand had been branded into my eyeball with a hot poker, and yet I was unable to look away.


    Samuel is grabbing me by the shoulder and shouting, trying to snap me out of it.


    I thought I knew what darkness was. I thought I knew what crawled in the deepest abyss of my heart. I thought I honed my soul for all my life with all that edgy goth crap.


    But I didn''t, for it was this thing all along, and I couldn''t ever come up with this. This nightmare is too much, even for me.


    Then, the creature''s screaming and pounding seemed to multiply, again, again, and again, until the sound of wood splintering, as the creatures'' screeching started to echo inside the house.


    - SARAH, WE HAVE TO GO! NOW! - screams Samuel, as he grabs me by the arm and drags me into my room.


    He locks the door and then signals me to go to my bathroom while he barricades this door with my bed. Doesn''t take long for the pounding to start on that door.


    Cornered, we then take refuge inside the bathroom and lock its door behind us as we nest as far from it as possible.


    - Sam... We ran out of doors. - I say, stuttering incoherently in a madness-induced trance.


    Sam takes me by my shoulders and shakes me violently:


    - Don''t you say that, okay?! We are going to make it through. It was us against the world from starters, remember?!


    As the toll of the emotional weight of recent events weighs me down, I start to remember how much Samuel meant to me, and that brings me back to lucidity ever so slightly.


    A single tear drops from my eye as I finally recall my sanity enough to manage to cry again.


    - We shouldn''t have come back from the cabin.


    - I know. I''m sorry. - he stared at me with tears in his eyes - I love you, Sarah.


    - I love you too, Samuel. - and there, we said it.


    We embrace each other amidst the maddening sound of pounding and screeching outside, as we wait to die. Dying in the arms of my loved one... I can think of worse deaths.


    The sound of splintering wood signals they breached the bedroom door. Only one to go now.


    The loud noise wakes up primal survival instincts, forcing us to release our embrace. Samuel tries his best to hold on to the door while I corner inside the shower''s curtains.


    They are pounding in the door so strongly, I don''t know how long it will be able to hold on.


    I don''t wanna die. I don''t want Samuel to die. This can''t be...


    I start to scream in horror, covering my ears, but each pounding seems to echo directly inside my mind.


    Between my horrified screams, the pounding in the door, and the creatures screaming themselves, I can still hear my heart pounding inside my head.


    I pray for every force from above to below. I don''t even care about me anymore, I only wish for Samuel to be saved.


    Please, goddammit! For a single fucking time, can you hear my prayers?!


    The monstrosities outside start to chip away pieces of the door with their pounding.


    My mind storms with a mix of abstract feelings and thoughts. It feels like it''s splitting apart together with the door.


    Through the door cracks, bulging humanoid arms ending in sharp talons try to break through, turning off the light switch in its thrashing.


    I can''t hear my own thoughts anymore as I start to scream at the top of my lungs.


    The door splits open.


    What happened after that, I know only by Samuel''s testimony, and what appears to be feverish, never-ending nightmares.

 Chapter 9

    How thin was the veil of lies that covered my eyes


    Torn open just enough for me to peek throughout


    It pulses with the rhythm of our breath, of our pulses


    The truth about flesh. Ah yes, the flesh.


    Since times immemorial, flesh is held in the highest form


    War, decadence, and rape: history written in cum and blood


    The decay of body, mind, and soul has always been the norm


    Killing ourselves for a smidgeon of tingle, our single thought.


    It makes us indulge our way to our demise,


    Scrap us for parts, take what matters from our lives


    Pump filth inside our mind and make us beg for more


    Our inner gore a putrid core forevermore.


    Our corrupted flesh bulges from rotting within


    Exposing splendid muscles of putrid beauty


    A call from something unseen, but near


    Awakened us from our vile whims.


    A forgotten truth made plain


    An ancient voice calls my name


    Shards of sanity crash around me


    Begging to be claimed.


    What is it that crawls within?


    What is it that perfuse my being?


    Why am I suddenly so unclean?


    Whose is this smile looking at me?


    I reach for the light in the sea of darkness I''m in


    Monsters knocking on my door, from outside, from within


    Laying on the wet floor contemplating my demise


    Oops, I think my mind cracked a little bit¡­


    I skitter through the room in a sea of blood and gore


    When little morsels come to die some more.


    Flying goes your little limbs, say goodbye twinkle toes


    Your snapping bones are so amusing, crush crush your little skulls.


    Monsters roam the streets, and now one more


    I thoroughly lay waste to all who endure


    Dashing my way buildings above


    Retreating safely to live one day more.


    And just like that, all is solved


    I''m so tired now, let me fall over


    Leave to daylight to care for my vanity


    I lay my flesh to rest, beside my sanity.


    _______________________________


    I open my eyes wide to an ashen morning sky above, my body laying flat in the ground.


    The waking world is completely silent, a stark contrast from my turbulent nightmares, but I don''t remember falling asleep, let alone in the open.


    Where the hell am I?


    The foggy weather blurs the outline of my surroundings, but I have the vague impression that I¡¯m¡­ On the rooftop of a building?


    I''m so confused and dizzy, my body hurts all over. I stand up slowly, trying to get a better sight in the environment, but there ain''t much to see beyond the thick fog that envelops me.


    I''m looking odd too. Why is it that my clothes are in shreds, and I''m using Samuel''s blue jacket? What happened last night, again? Oh my god.


    Awareness settle in all of sudden and I can''t help but release a loud gasp. My heart stutters for a moment as I think off¡­


    - Sam! - I scream. But my worries are short lived, as a soon I turn around, there he is, laying besides me, staring at me with wide eyes, shaken.


    - Sarah¡­? - he answers softly, a strange tone in his voice, as if he wasn''t sure of what he is saying.


    As I lean forward to embrace him, he instinctively jerks back from me. I''m utterly confused, but then he moves forward and hugs me tightly.


    - Sam¡­ What the hell happened? Where are we?


    My foggy mind can''t remember what happened, although I have the pernicious feeling it was something awful.


    - You really don''t remember¡­? - he says, with the same worried expression in his face.


    As I was about to answer him, I catch a glimpse of something in my hand. As I bring it closer to inspect it¡­ my eyes go wide in horror.


    What the fuck is this in my hand?!, I think as I grasp it tightly with my other hand.


    - Sarah, what''s wrong? - says Sam, startled.


    What is he talking about?! Can''t he see what is wrong?!


    - My¡­ my hand¡­ look Samuel, what is that?!


    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.I thrash with it while crying softly in desperation, scratching it vigorously to the point of drawing blood, but that thing won''t come out.


    I feel like it''s crawling it''s way up my arm, and Samuel just keep looking at me puzzled. I really start to panic, as I scratch it stronger and stronger.


    - Sarah, stop! - screams Samuel, holding both my arms while I resist for a moment.


    I look at him startled, as my anxiety reached its peak.


    - There is nothing wrong with your hands. Look!


    As I hesitantly gaze upon my open hands, I realize..


    He is right. It''s just my hands.


    I stare at then confused. What exactly did I see wrong with them? I can''t help but feel slightly embarrassed.


    I lower my face in embarrassment and he gives my hands each a reassuring squeeze. He stares me with an atypical nervous stare, like he''s on edge.


    He stands up, and offers me a hand to help me stand too, which I take.


    - Come on. We need to get out of here. - he says, taking me by the hand, while wielding a knife on his other hand.


    After that, we easily spot the emergency stairs. We started our descent all the way 6 stories down to the floor without much ceremony. There is nothing else to do.


    Even with the fog, I spot several odd marks in the building''s outer wall, as if something climbed it''s way through it.


    As soon as we step out of the stairs and into a narrow empty alley, a faint rumble of civilization becames audible. We look at each other nervously, and without words, agree in investigate, walking slowly towards it.


    I recognize this place: it''s the local bazaar, a large, covered avenue where several informal merchants sell all sort of contraptions, from anime bottoms, to pirate products.


    But today, the bazaar was selling no such things.


    We stood stiff as if watching an abstract nightmare unfold before our eyes, the stench of blood and carrion filled our nostrils.


    As the fog thins down a little, we can see the movement of dozens of humans going by their business.


    I say ¡°humans¡± with a little bit of uncertainty here.


    Human beings sporting a myriad of limbs sprawn the bazaar as a macabre menagerie from another world. You name it: two pair of arms, two pair of legs, three pair of arms, two heads, multiple torsos, hands, fingers, faces, eyes, everything combined. Several lack all sort of limbs too, including heads, yet they go on about their lives just like the other, as if nothing out of the ordinary was happening.


    To the right, one such individual hollered about ¡°fresh parts just out of the oven!¡± Being sold on his shack, where half a dozen of nude mutilated human beings laid sat down, cuts and scars spread across their body, some with grievous wounds beyond anything a human could bear, yet they sat emotionless.


    A bloated person full of arms approaches the man, and gestures to one of the individuals in the barrack. The two exchange money, and the owner signals for the person to stand up, which it does promptly.


    It patiently lays with his back to the wall as the shop owner picks up a bloodied axe in both his hands. He raises the weapon, and delivers a haphazard cut above the man''s shoulder, cutting tendon and bone with an agonizing thump, but still not severing the member. The victim screams, and closes his eyes, with his only remaining arm hanging by a thread of flesh. It still took two more blows for the arm to fall off. The shop owner proceeds to pick up the ghastly member, and give it to the ¡°client¡± that awaited patiently, watching the show. Taking the arm and sticking it haphazardly to its own torso, it somehow becomes stuck in place, and the creature manages to move the arm immediately after. It waves goodbye, and the shop owner puts a single coin in the pocket of the mutilated creature, which sits back on his place, blood still dripping.


    To the left, a locomotive crier spoke all sort of things related to the train. Them, from the train left dozens of people in chains, in a bad state of health and form. Most of them had limbs missing, and some were rotten in several places. They all looked old, sick, or vulnerable in some way.


    The sickness and poverty struck people were being auctioned for parts in the middle of the street. They were sold by their own family so they could be of some use. They all looked resigned and strangely lucid of their fate.


    I don''t know what to feel at this point, I just look at Sam for guidance, but he is strangely calm about the situation, more on edge than horrified.


    I feel like there is something he isn''t telling me.


    He seems to hint at my suspicious, and tightens his hand inviting me to walk along the bazaar, which I do. I would like to press him for answers, but given the situation at hand, I''d rather leave it to later.


    I''m not inclined to stay in this place any longer, but it''s not like we have much of a choice. We might as well investigate while we are here.


    I''m trembling in my rags as we walk down the horror avenue, until the smell of fresh bread and coffee eclipses the smell of gore, signaling we are nearing a bar.


    We follow the smell into a normal, cozy bar where people usually take their breakfast. It seems mostly normal, except for some multi-limbed patrons minding their own business, and a bartender missing both his eyeballs and his jaw.


    On a TV, there was news going on. I hastily scramble for a remote in the counter to turn up the volume.


    - ¡­ as it would appear the middle class mostly prefers to buy eyeballs, while the upper classes are intent in buying more limbs, such as arms and legs. The prices have skyrocketed in the last weekend, after the famous internet influencer Janna Margot applied two extra pair of legs on her.


    I stare at the news speechless for a moment, before we both take a seat at the bar¡¯s stools, and the bartender comes to us intent of taking our order.


    - Two coffees and sandwiches, please. - I say, resigned.

 Chapter 10

    We sit at one of the tables in the bar, me and Samuel. Our eyes are wide and vigilant, yet stare into nothing. We lay there silently for several minutes, contemplating abstract thoughts, as life goes on around us normally as ever, as if we are the anomalies among these wretched things.


    The bartender brings our order, leaving it on the table in front of us, glancing at us with his eyeless gaze, the sound of clinking cutlery and porcelain shaking the muffled conversations and the TV, but doing little to shake us off of our introspection.


    I slowly stare down our breakfast. The sandwich looks delicious, and the coffee is smoking flagrantly, inviting me in. My stomach rumbles with hunger. When was the last time I ate?


    Nervously, my shaking hand slowly reaches for the bread. At this point, I expect it to be filled with eyeballs and gore, or some other disgusting thing. But no. The inside of the bread is utterly normal, with ham, cheese, mayo... the things you''d expect for a normal sandwich.


    So I take the coffee cup with my sweaty fingers, clinking the porcelain gently, half expecting it to have blood, bone meal, or other special "sauce" inside. Alas, it was just normal coffee. I take a hesitant sip. Just plain black, strong coffee.


    I look up to find Samuel looking at me with a worried expression.


    - The sandwich is made out of sandwich. - I say this absurd phrase, slightly delirious.


    But he remains unshaken, leading me to believe I missed the real question. He must have realized that, as he shakes his head slowly, acting all weird again.


    Without further ado, we both take on our sandwiches and devour them. I ate mine a little too fast. It was delicious, tasteful, moist, and meaty, mayo oozed from my fingers as I squeezed it down.


    A lingering satisfaction washes over me, I can''t help but release a small moan. It tastes like home, like infancy, just like...


    Just like mommy used to make.


    Mom...


    It comes back to me. The last visage I had from Mother, splattered in her bed with Dad, in a formless mass.


    I drop the sandwich onto my plate, my hands trembling violently as I freeze in place. A sharp pain grips my chest, squeezing the air from my lungs, and my face contorts in agony. Tears blur my vision, streaming down my cheeks in an uncontrollable torrent.


    Mom... oh, Mom. The words catch in my throat, choked by sorrow and regret. I never got the chance to tell her how much I loved her, how sorry I am for everything.


    And on top of that, I''ll have to live with that last image of them.


    I instinctively fold my arms, hugging myself as my body drops. God, but it hurts so much...


    The last time I talked to them, I said horrible things. And now, they were reduced to a pile of living gore, left behind with the monsters...


    I didn''t even get to tell them how much I loved them for always worrying about me, despite me being a horrible daughter...


    Oh my god... Why, why did this have to happen... It''s all my fault...


    And now the world has gone mad, human limb markets, slave trains...


    I can''t take this anymore. This is too much...


    It would all be better if I just-...


    - Sarah!


    Samuel voice takes me off of my despair, with a hand shaking my shoulder.


    I''m startled, and still beaten, but most of all, I''m scared at how fast I started to break down. This could have been a quick road to a dead end. I have several slash scars in my forearm to prove it.


    This novel''s true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there.


    - I... I''m fine... - I say in a sad tone, as I wipe my face with my trembling hands.


    He gives me a concerned look but relaxes a bit.


    - Sarah, baby girl, I know you must be shaken... - He pauses.


    Yes, "shaken" to say the least.


    - ... But we need to talk. - He says, very serious now.


    ___________________________________


    From all the impossible things I''ve experienced since arriving back in this city, it was his question right now that shocked me the most of all.


    I just stare at him horrified, as tears of sadness give way to tears of anger.


    - What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Samuel?! If I am "really Sarah"?! - I hissed.


    He squirms awkwardly at my response, regretting his poor choice of words, as usual.


    - What? Would that be surprising by now? - he says, defensively


    I just can''t believe his nerve in asking something like that right now.


    - Look... - He continues - I saw what you did yesterday, you know? Do you remember how we got out of your house?


    I roll my eyes in anger.


    - Of course, Samuel! Because I don''t remember last night entirely, it must mean I''m not Sarah! You''re a freaking genius! Has it occurred to you that I may be slightly traumatized?!


    I could see Sam''s inquietude as I lashed out at him. He was never good when fighting back at me before. Guess he was getting ready to say his punchline, because what he said next completely took my breath away.


    - That''s not what I meant. Sarah, you transformed into a monster and got us out of your house.


    Huh, so that must be what a man feels when his girlfriend tells him she is pregnant.


    I must say, this day keeps on giving. I''m having to come up with new feelings to feel the things I have to deal with.


    A pause to swallow what he just said, and I close my eyes, breathe deeply, then open them up and stare at Sam''s face.


    He nods poignantly. I laugh manically.


    - You sure we didn''t escape through the door or the window?


    - Really, Sarah? Cornered in your bathroom, with nowhere to go?


    I can''t help but press my brows by now, as the story starts to sound less crazy, and that is paradoxically crazy.


    - Samuel...


    He fidgets with the cutlery, looking around anxiously.


    - Sarah, people are selling their own limbs in the streets now. Like, literally. I can see from here. - he says, all stuttering - The bar to what is considered unreal dropped really low. This is not something to just wonder about, it''s a simple fact of life now.


    I rue the day Samuel became the voice of reason, but... I guess I''m not ready to leave denial just yet.


    Let me sit here, just for a little while more.


    - Sarah...? - Samuel''s voice breaks me once again from my stupor, with a reassuring squeeze in my hand.


    I sigh, melancholy filling my head, but I fake a timid smile.


    - I''m fine. I just... - I let my face fall in my hand in despair, staring at him from between my fingers- what the hell am I supposed to do with this information, Sam?


    His worried expression shifts as he seems to consider his answer until he finally says.


    - We need to... find out what that means.


    We stare at each other in silence for a moment, digesting both breakfast and what he said. I go for a sip of my coffee and finish what remains of my sandwich, not as eager to eat as I was before.


    - What does it mean to be able to transform into a monster...?


    He shrugs.


    - About... all this stuff, I think?


    I think for a moment when realization suddenly struck me:


    - Samuel... The graft hoax from before, do you remember it?!


    He squeezes his forehead for a moment, then widens his eyes:


    - Oh my god... Yes, it was all over the news and the internet. Do you think...


    I roll my eyes at his dumbness. Yes, I do think!


    - What else? - I sigh, overwhelmed by the revelation of a trashy hoax becoming real - Whatever happened to those people in the news spread through all our town while we were away.


    I gulp down as I say these words looking to the TV, whose national news suggests it''s not just our town that is affected, if the reporter''s third arm is any indication.


    - What, like a virus or something?! - Says Sam, exasperated.


    - I don''t know, Sam, what kind of virus does something like that? - I can''t help but start to feel very anxious as I realize what is happening - Whatever it is, I think it''s safe to assume it''s the end of humanity as we know it, Sam. We are survivors now.


    A moment of silence as the last sentence weighs in on both of us. It''s not an easy task to come to peace with the fact that the world has ended, particularly when you add up all the other traumas so far.


    - This feels like a bad dream... - the words come out of Sam''s mouth almost like a whisper, as he stares down in disbelief - So now what? Do we just try to "fit in"?


    I stagger as I speak, unsure of myself.


    - I don''t know, Sam, I doubt that''s an option if last night is any indication.


    - Those creatures tried to maim us, yet they don''t seem to care. What does that mean?


    - I don''t know. - Sigh, I''m growing tired of saying that - We don''t know anything that is going on yet. We can''t move on before we understand what we are dealing with.


    It''s about time we get to the bottom of this. There must be an explanation for whatever is happening around us. Whatever happened while we were off-grid, there is bound to be some clue of it somewhere, preferably on the internet.


    I scramble my ragged trousers for my phone, and find it miraculously intact, although now with several cracks in the screen, but still working.


    I quickly research the major social media and search engine sites, in search of a clue, and I quickly learn this: absolutely nothing. Only normal media, photos, and memes containing people with extra and missing limbs in impossible fashions, as if this was always the norm.


    Samuel and I exchange looks for a moment, unsure of what to do next. But whatever it is, it involves leaving that door back to Horror Avenue.