Story Sunday: (Pt 3)


It’s that time of week again. It’s time for me to fill your social media feeds with links to this website, and you either click and read or get really irritated and keep scrolling. For me, it’s a time of nervousness.

I’m not sure how well this is received. When I had it on my old blog, I had people constantly coming up to me and asking what was going to happen… they actually cared. Now, my view count is down and numbers are diminished. I’m getting slightly discouraged, but that’s what I get for not heeding the “if it ain’t broke don’t fix it” adage. 

For those of you that do read, I just wanna say thanks again. You guys make this fun. I am nothing if I have no readers, so thanks for making me something. I think.

Alright, so I won’t bore you with anymore details… Here’s whatcha came for. In case you missed it: Part One                    Part Two


Untitled Pt 3

His throat was cut, the head almost severed. There was blood all over my bed and even more on the floor. My yellow sheets were now brown, and the white carpet I had installed a couple of months ago looked like I’d gotten drunk and spilled wine all over it.

I puked. I’m not proud of it, but it happened. I mean, what are you supposed to do when you see a mutilated body, smile? Not me, no way. My supper came right up, and a good healthy portion of it landed on my shoes. I studied the body some more, using my fingers as a filter. I looked around the room, taking in the horrors.

Finally, I got the balls to take a closer look at the body. Damn, it was nasty. I kept asking myself “What kind of sick fuck would do this to someone?” I didn’t know, and I hoped I’d never have to.

There was more damage on the body than I initially thought. Along with the gash that splattered crimson all over the place, there were several smaller wounds. This guy was stabbed in the neck and slashed across his torso for good measure. I was bending down to examine even further, when I saw something that scared the hell outta me. The blood on the man was still wet. That meant that someone had done this recently, and he/she could still be in my house, waiting for another victim.

It was then that I came to my senses, because I grabbed my car keys and bolted. I hurdled the kitchen table and knocked over the glass bowl that I’d just finished eating out of. I didn’t care, though; I was more concerned about getting outta my house and over to Sam’s.

I got in my car. It was already started, cause, you know, this is the 21st century after all. I pulled outta my drive and sped up as fast as I could. The speed limit was like 30, but, being the rebel that I am, I was going at least 31. If you couldn’t tell, that was my attempt at being funny. There’s a reason my only real friend is Sam.

After turning out of my quiet subdivision, I gunned it. There were only a few roads between my place and Sam’s and cops were hardly ever on them. If I got stopped I was screwed, but I highly doubted I would be. Even if I did, I would’ve gotten out of the ticket easily enough. The ticket part didn’t concern me, though: it was time.

Once I was outside city limits, the real fun began. I was about two miles away from Sam’s, going at least 90, when some god damn deer decides to poke his head out from between the bushes and run in front of my car. I barely got the thing stopped. Keep in mind, this day started out with my awkward encounter with Little Miss Sunshine. Things didn’t seem to be getting any better. Thankfully, I arrived at Sam’s a couple of minutes after the deer incident.

I walked right in. I knew where to find him. Sam always went to the exact same spot in his house when he was worried or upset: his laundry room. I know what you’re thinking, it’s kind of a weird place. But something about it soothes him. It’s been his safe haven since we were kids.

I approached the room quietly, so I wouldn’t interrupt any possible thinking he was doing. I tapped on the doorframe to get his attention.

“Hey, buddy. What’s wrong?”

Side note: If you’re thinking to yourself “How the hell can this guy see a dead body and carry on a perfect conversation an hour later?” it’s because I had kind of forgotten about it, to be honest. After the whole killer-possibly-in-my-house thing, I was more concerned about the problems at hand rather than the ones I left at my house. Those were for another night. I most definitely brought them up, though.

“Dude,” he started. “What I’m gonna tell you is 100% true. Your first thought is going to be about sending me to an insane asylum, but you gotta bear with me. I’m not making this up.”

“Try me,” I said, smirking. If he only knew.

“Alright, so you remember that girl I took home, Melanie? Well she was fuckin’ weird, man. We started going at it before I realized. . .”

“Get on with it, Sam, what happened!?” I said, losing patience.

“Well at first I just thought she was kinda kinky. You know, like into handcuffs and stuff. She was a little wild, lightly biting me here and there, but I thought it was a turn on. Then she started biting harder. And harder. When I asked her to stop, she just kinda looked at me. And this is where it gets weird, you ready?”

I affirmed and he continued.

“Her eyes changed colors! And her skin got all wrinkly and felt like leather. I panicked and shoved her off of me and—“

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” I said under my breath. Sam evidently heard me though, because he stopped talking and asked me what I said.

“Nothing, it was nothing. Just continue.”

“Right. So I shoved her off of me and grabbed the baseball bat I keep under my bed. She, or it, I should say, stood back and screeched. God, it was awful. It was the most high-pitched, evil sounding thing I’ve ever heard. To make things worse, as it was screeching I could see it changing. Gone was the hot little number I left the bar with, and in front of me was some freaky looking thing with gray skin and black hair. I was cowered back against my headboard when the god damn thing charged me, man. It charged so I swung andIclosedmyeyes not knowing what the hell was gonna go down when it just vanished! Just like that! I’m still scared from the whole ordeal!”

I sat back for a minute, replaying Sam’s tale in my head. One idea kept pooping up in front of everything else: the semi driver at the crosswalk! There was some kind of weird connection between the two. It was probably the same damned thing that harassed us both.

“Sam,” I said, finally breaking my silence. “I don’t think you’re crazy, but what I’m about to tell you may make you think I am.”

We sat there for the better part of three hours in Sam’s laundry room. I recounted the day’s events from my perspective while Sam just sat back and listened. We talked about the eerie coincidences and about what we might have done to bring about these strange events. We didn’t get very far that night, but one thing was for sure: we had a big problem, and not even the slightest clue on how to fix it.


I only have two more parts until I have to begin writing the rest of the story. You should see an increase in quality, but we’ll see. Sorry I haven’t said much of note tonight, there’s just a lot on my mind and I’m kinda zoning in and out.

The post on arrogance will come next week sometime… I got kinda lazy and forgot to finish it.

As far as my book review thing goes, I’m just gonna gradually read and review whatever I feel like. It was a nice thought, but I think I’m gonna throw in the towel and update the page for it. That’ll allow me to focus more on other content for this place, though.

Alright, I’m off to contemplate the meaning of life and what not, and hopefully you guys are off to contemplate what happens next in the story. I’m ouchea.

One thought on “Story Sunday: (Pt 3)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s