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Ep.39 – The Chain of Time - You Are What SHE Eats! - Weekly Spooky: Scary Stories and Horror Fun Every Week!

Ep.39 – The Chain of Time - You Are What SHE Eats!

Released on 07/22/2020

Episode Notes
The Chain of Time by Killian Crane
After the disappearance of a little girl in the woods by a Middle School another boy is lured into the woods, the house isn't made of gingerbread but the oven is just as dangerous!
Music by Ray Mattis
http://raymattispresents.bandcamp.com
Produced by Daniel Wilder
Get Cool Merchandise http://store.weeklyspooky
Support us on Patreon http://patreon.com/IncrediblyHandsome
Contact Us/Submit a Story
twitter.com/WeeklySpooky
facebook.com/WeeklySpooky
[email protected]
This episode sponsored by HenFlix.com
For everything else visit WeeklySpooky.com
Transcription:
Andrew Leid felt like a freshly poured fountain drink; from his blond curls to his pudgy 12-year-old belly, he absolutely fizzed. He was blind to the children enjoying recess around him on the playground of Pine Hill Middle School. His entire world was a bridge of grass to Claire Ellis.
Claire sat in the front corner of his class. Andrew, who would never admit it to anyone, found himself looking at her more often than the white board.
She faced away from him, staring into the expansive forest behind the school. She had brown hair held up in a long pony tail by a pink ribbon.
He knew he had no business talking to a girl like her, but he decided that morning that he would ask her if she’d like to go to the Gumbo Festival with him. He just couldn’t seem to move his feet.
He finessed past several crinkling snack wrappers and drew his brass pocket watch. Flipped open, it showed there was still fifteen minutes of recess.
As he tried to put the watch away, the chain went taught and flew from his hand. Bewildered, Andrew turned to see Thomas Daniels. Thomas jiggled the watch, making it glint wildly.
“Whatcha doing, chubber?” Thomas asked.
Andrew’s fist clenched. “Thomas, please. Just give it back.”
“Oh, I will,” Thomas jeered. He swung the watch evenly. “If you can catch me.” Andrew saw Claire still staring into the woods, and then focused on Thomas. He
made a clumsy lunge, and Thomas pulled it taught, palming the watch then letting it fall free again as if he was walking the dog with a yoyo.
“Try again, fatty.”
Andrew did, but Thomas still held the watch.
“Cut it out, Thomas!”
The metal grazed Andrew’s fingers before it was pulled free a third time. Children gathered around to watch the spectacle. Thomas, the circus master, led
Andrew in a wide circle like a prize animal.
“Uh uh uh!” he teased.
Andrew’s face grew blood red with anger and effort. He charged, head low. Thomas
dodged and stuck his foot out to catch Andrew in an embarrassing trap. The crowd roared approval as he thudded to the ground.
He struggled to his feet, his heart limping in his chest. He put his hands over his head, fighting the need to puke.
“Look at those fat titties!” one kid squealed.
Andrew, instantly shamed, covered his chest with his hands.
“Who said that?” he squeaked, spinning around, trying not to jostle himself. No one
answered, they simply pointed and laughed.
Thomas spun the pocket watch high above his head, cocking his arm to throw it,
when an adult voice cut through the laughs of the children.
“What’s going on here?” Miss Minner demanded.
The circle fell instantly silent. Her eyes locked onto Thomas.
“Office, mister Daniels. Everyone else, back inside. Recess is over.”
There was a collective groan as the crowd headed for class. Thomas flung the watch
hard into Andrew’s chest.
Once the watch was safe, Andrew searched the crowd for Claire. He didn’t see her
pink bow anywhere.
The tree line, like a storm on the horizon, loomed silent and empty.
Ten minutes into class, Claire still wasn’t in her seat in the front corner. When he saw that Miss Minner still hadn’t noticed, Andrew raised his hand.
In the five weeks after Claire’s disappearance, Andrew gained twenty pounds.
He sat at the dinner table of his mother’s small apartment, watching a man who claimed to be an expert on the occult.
The man waved his hands excitedly. “In fact, people back then always kept precious metals on their person. Certain metals were believed to ward off the evil eye.”
Andrew’s mother changed the channel to the news. The oven chimed, and soon a baking sheet packed end to end with French toast lay before Andrew. Crispy crusts, buttery middles, and the perfect amount of cinnamon. It was Andrew’s favorite dessert.
“Thank you, mama.” Andrew said as he dug in.
She tousled his hair. “Love you, gummy bear.”
The Leid family hadn’t always lived in a small apartment. Once upon a time, the
Leid’s were the proud owners of a successful restaurant. Andrew’s father ran the business, and his mother was head chef. Andrew was the professional taste tester, if he finished his homework. Monday nights, when business was usually slow, they watched Westerns at the bar.
Despite great business, Andrew’s father had made many mistakes with the money. The last thing Andrew ever heard his father say was “It’s getting where we can’t even afford to feed him!”
The next morning, his father was gone.
Andrew’s mother sold the restaurant, their house, traded in her car, and moved them into the apartment. Despite their tight budget, she always made sure that her son was fed. She cooked three hearty meals every day, with plenty of snacks in between.
Shortly after his father left, Andrew began to gain weight.
The telephone rang and she quickly answered it. She looked over her shoulder before going out of the room to take the call in private. Andrew wiped his fingers clean, and downed the last of his chocolate milk. On the television, the window over the reporter’s shoulder faded into a picture of Claire sheepishly smiling.
A piece of ice lodged itself in his heart, and the reporter’s words drove the ice home.
“The search for Claire Ellis, twelve-year-old daughter of James and Olivia Ellis, has been discontinued by authorities. Claire was last seen wandering into the woods behind Pine Hill Middle School. The Ellis family asks that anyone with information involving Claire’s disappearance to call the number below.”
Feet pattered from down the hall back into the living room.
“A candle light vigil will be held Saturday at six p.m. at the Pine Hill Middle School. On behalf of all of us here at Channel 6 News, -”
The channel abruptly changed to cartoons. Andrew’s mother held out the remote, letting out a sharp breath as she replaced the phone.
“I’m sorry you saw that, gummy bear. Let’s not think about that tonight, okay?”
But Andrew had thought of Claire every night. As far as the police had learned, Andrew was the last one to see Claire. Despite being full, he wanted something to snack on.
He flipped open the brass pocket watch. It was only seven.
His mother sounded like a cracked china cup as she spoke. “What’s your watch say, cowboy?”
The previous year, Andrew and his mother went to the movies and saw a vintage western. When the hero strode into town, two bad guys leveled their guns. The hero
pulled a brass pocket watch from his duster and said “Will ya look at that? It’s high time things changed ‘round here.” He pulled his gun and shot the men down. Andrew had been overjoyed, clapping loud enough to draw a “Shhhh!” from somewhere in the dark. On Christmas day, Andrew had an exact replica of the watch.
“Seven. It’s getting late,” he told her, holstering the watch.
Though he truly loved the watch, it reminded him of times with his father, watching westerns. They had been a family then, and Andrew, whether he meant to or not, had ruined that. He was the reason his father left. The more he thought about his failures, to his family, to Claire, the more he wanted to eat and forget.
He rose and gave his mother a gentle hug. “I’m gonna go to bed, mama. I feel really tired.”
She hugged him back, and Andrew remembered a time when she had been able to wrap her arms all the way around him.
“Goodnight, gummy bear. I’ll have a big breakfast for you in the morning.” “Sounds good, mama. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
He drifted to his room, closing the door behind him. He no longer felt nice and full
and sleepy. He felt fat.
If he hadn’t been fat, he wouldn’t have been picked on by Thomas. He wouldn’t have
had a problem asking Claire to go to the Gumbo Festival with him. Claire wouldn’t have disappeared.
The large bag of pretzels he kept in his night stand lay in his lap, open. He sat on his bed watching the pocket watch tick away the seconds, silently eating the pretzels until they were gone.
The next day, the children were allowed on the playground for the first time since the disappearance. Andrew sat at the edge of the forest eating from a plastic sleeve of mini donuts, watching the other kids play. Thomas was occupied humiliating another target.
Behind Andrew, the new fence polls stood, but no fence barred the forest. During a lonely lunch two days before, Andrew heard Coach Bart say to another teacher, “those guys building the fence are really dragging butt.”
In the distance, Thomas gave some poor soul an atomic wedgie, pulling him off the ground, feet kicking.
“I wish I could help you, kid,” Andrew said around a mouthful of donut.
A familiar voice hissed behind him. “You could help me, Andrew.”
He turned wide eyed to see the back of Claire Ellis. She looked exactly the same as
the day she disappeared, down to her long ponytail tied with a pink bow. “Claire?”
She laughed.
There was a scream from the playground, making Andrew wheel around. Coach Bart, who had taken Miss Minner’s place as Andrew’s teacher, had Thomas by the ear, marching him towards the school. A crowd of kids followed, cheering and laughing.
When Andrew turned back to the forest. “Claire?”
The smallest crescent of Claire’s face peeked from behind a tree deep inside. “Claire... people have been really worried about you. Where have you been?” She grinned, saying nothing.
The wrapper crinkled in his trembling hand. “You want a donut?”
With a laugh, she turned and fled deeper into the woods.
“Claire, wait!” he called out as he breached the tree li
Ep.38 – The Worm Has Turned - A Psychopath Wants YOUR SKIN - Weekly Spooky: Scary Stories and Horror Fun Every Week!

Ep.38 – The Worm Has Turned - A Psychopath Wants YOUR SKIN

Released on 07/15/2020

Episode Notes
Penn is an ex-con and he needs a job, but on one fateful night he gets more than he bargained for when a maniac wants his SKIN! And that's before we even get to the monster...
The Worm Has Turned by David O’Hanlon
Music by Ray Mattis
http://raymattispresents.bandcamp.com
Produced by Daniel Wilder
Get Cool Merchandise http://store.weeklyspooky
Support us on Patreon http://patreon.com/IncrediblyHandsome
Contact Us/Submit a Story
twitter.com/WeeklySpooky
facebook.com/WeeklySpooky
[email protected]
This episode sponsored by HenFlix.com
For everything else visit WeeklySpooky.com
Transcription:
Penn scratched at the burgundy paint of the park’s picnic table with his thumbnail. He hated waiting almost as much as he hated being broke. Unfortunately for him, waiting was the only way his bills were getting paid. Penn’s employment history consisted entirely of community service and eight years on a prison farm. Car jacking and armed robbery didn’t look great under the ‘special skills’ portion of his resume. So, he waited.
“Hi,” a tiny voice squeaked beside him. “I’m Ed.”
Penn looked over at the boy who had slipped onto the bench beside him. He was scrawny, with oversized glasses and a shaggy mop of brown hair that filled the space between the lens and his eyes. His shirt was striped intentionally with horizontal bars of color—and unintentionally with vertical runs of ketchup. The offending condiment was drying around his mouth where it seemed to break away into the constellations of freckles that covered his entire face. Penn sighed. There was no way this kid had any friends to go bother instead.
“You don’t look like an Ed,” Penn said. “Here with your folks?”
“Nope,” Ed replied. He stared up at Penn, clearly not intending on giving up more information. “What’s your name, mister?”
“Everyone calls me Penn.” Penn hadn’t meant to answer, but part of him felt the need to give the kid a break. Life clearly wasn’t. “Shouldn’t you be playing? The swings look fun,” he suggested.
“I’m allergic to just about everything and I have basically no immune system.” Ed shrugged his narrow shoulders. “The swings give me motion sickness, anyways.” 
“Then why are you at the park?”
“Got nowhere else to be. Mom says her cats are allergic to me too and that I should give them a break. What about you?” Ed scooped the hair to the outside of the glasses so he could see a little better. “You’re too old for swings.”
“First of all, no one is too old for swings.” Penn held up two fingers. “Secondly, I’m working.”
Ed nodded sagely. “What job has you sit in a park?”
“The kind that requires solitude.”
“Oh,” Ed sighed. “I’d be really good at that job.”
“Jesus Christ, kid.” Penn pinched the bridge of his nose. “I’ve seen Lifetime movies that were less depressing than you are. Do you want some food?”
“Just had three hot dogs,” Ed chirped happily.
Penn looked the frail little boy over suspiciously. “Where’d you put them, in your pockets?” 
“I have a really high metabolism. I can’t gain weight.” Ed’s face soured then perked back up. “It’s kind of nice because I could eat all the ice cream I wanted if I wasn’t lactose intolerant.”
Penn’s eyes rolled on their own. “Of course you are. Is there anything you don’t have wrong with you?”
“It’s probably safe to say I don’t have gigantism.” Ed snickered.
Penn’s stone face cracked and he busted out laughing. He patted Ed on the shoulder. “Well done, kid.”
Ed poked Penn’s right forearm. “That’s a neat tattoo. Does it mean something?”
Penn glanced at the arabesque design whose floral pattern twisted from the back of his hand to just past his elbow with a lion-like creature roaring in the center. “Yeah. It’s Burmese. That’s where my grandmother was from. She raised me, so I did this to remember her. She had an amulet with the same symbol that she wore everywhere. She said it was magic and protected her from evil.”
“That’s nifty. Do you believe in magic?” 
“Not particularly. You?”
“Of course.” Ed took a bag of gummi worms from his cargo pants and set them on the table. “Today is National Gummi Worm Day.”
“That a real thing?” Penn asked.
“Sure.” Ed opened the bag and plucked out a red-and-green worm. He put it between his buck-teeth and slurped it into his mouth with a giggle.
Penn smiled at the boy. It wasn’t an expression he got to use much. “I guess that’s a holiday I could get behind.”
“It’s also Give Something Away Day.”
“I’m generally on the other side of that one.” Penn snagged one of the boy’s worms with a wink.
“Then you’re in luck.” Ed took another bag of worms and set it in front of Penn. “I want to give you these.”
Penn’s eyebrow lurched at the gesture. “Why?”
“Because that way I can celebrate both holidays at once. It’s more efficient.”
“No, I meant why give them to me?” Penn stared at the bag like it might explode. “There’s plenty of kids here.”
Ed turned on the little bench and waved a bony hand across the expanse of the park. Kids shrieked and ran around, old men played chess under the trees, couples picnicked in the open areas, and a group of teens sold pot next to the forgotten volleyball court. 
Ed slurped another worm. “We’re the only two that are here alone,” he said between chewy bites. “I think that makes you worth sharing with.”
“Correction, you’re a Hallmark movie.” Penn rubbed the kid’s head. “Guess we’re not alone now. Thanks, Ed.” 
“No problem.” Ed pointed at a man walking toward them with a large envelope tucked under his arm and a gravestone expression on his square face. “That guy needs friends more than I do.”
“Oh, shit.” Penn stood up and dug in his pocket for second. He pulled out his last five-dollar-bill. “That’s my boss. Happy Give Something Away Day. Now, go get you some non-dairy ice cream.”
“Don’t forget your worms. I think you’re going to need them.” Ed smiled and took the money. “Want to hang out tomorrow?”
Penn tucked the gummi worms into his pocket and nodded. “Yeah, kid. We’ll meet here tomorrow, same time.”
Ed checked his watch, which was struggling to stay over his hand. “Roger, that.” 
Ed jumped up and hugged Penn around the waist. Penn stood perfectly still, not sure of what to do before deciding on a simple pat on the back. 
“Stay safe, Ed.” He walked away from the boy and went to meet the grim gentleman.
“Bye, Penn.” Ed waved frantically and trotted away.
 “Who the fuck is that?” the man asked with nod in Ed’s direction.
“An undercover cop,” Penn replied. “He’s really good, don’t you think?”
“Listen, wise ass, I can find any number of cons to get in on this. I’m talking to you as a favor, so when I ask a question, you give me a straight answer.”
“Chill, Richter.” Penn took the envelope from him. “He’s just a lonely kid looking for someone to talk to.”
“No shit he’s lonely. Look at the little loser,” Richter said. “I’ve seen bigger abortions.”
Penn smacked his lips and turned the envelope over in his hands. “You know, just because we’re criminals, doesn’t mean we have to be pricks.” 
Richter smiled at him. It wasn’t the kind of smile Penn shared with Ed. It was the kind Penn saw on inmates right before they stuck a sharpened toothbrush in someone’s throat. The expression was a morbid scar across Richter’s face and his words oozed like septic pus. 
“I heard you tell him to be back here tomorrow. Maybe you were just playing nice, but he’ll be here regardless. You’re going to go do your homework and be ready for my boys to pick you up and you’re going to cut the biggest-dick-in-the-cellblock routine.” Richter pressed two fingers into Penn’s chest and leaned closer. “Or tomorrow, I’m going to come here and I’m going to rip that little boy’s guts out to decorate the goddamn see-saw. This job goes off, smooth and by the numbers. Say ‘yes, sir’ and get moving.”
Penn glanced at Ed waiting in line for the ice cream. “Yes, sir.”

The job was not going smooth or by the numbers. Richter’s boys showed up at Penn’s apartment and took him to the fancy downtown apartments. The three of them rode the elevator to the seventeenth floor in their AES coveralls with their respective equipment stashed in toolboxes marked with the electric company’s logo. 
Only the seventeenth floor didn’t look like the pictures in Richter’s packet.
The three men panned their flashlights around the darkened space. Penn noticed the painter’s drop clothes on the floor and the paper that masked the windows from the overspray first. Then he noticed the lack of overspray. Where there were supposed to be apartments, there was only exposed pipes, conduit, and two-by-fours marking off their future locations. Not only were the units unlived in, but they were nowhere near being ready to paint.
“Anyone else got a bad feeling about this?” Penn asked.
“Zip it,” the larger man on the crew said in a voice like shattering glass—high and coarse with an accent of the danger it brought. “Maybe we got the wrong floor.”
“Yeah, I’m sure that’s it,” the other reassured him. Sweat beaded his brow above the snake tattoo that cut down the left side of his face. “We just got off on the wrong floor.”
“You’re both idiots,” Penn grunted. “Unless we’re stealing power tools, we’re in the wrong building. The package said this place was fully rented.”
“Obviously they didn’t count the floors that were under construction,” the big one said.
Penn leaned on the frame of a future kitchen counter and dug the bag of gummi worms from his pocket. “When one of you geniuses figures out which floor we’re supposed to be on, let me know. How about that?”
“What are you doing?” the man with the face tat asked.
“Taking lunch.” Penn put a pair of the delectable worms in his mouth. He shook the bag in his direction. “I should probably share since it’s Give Something Away Day.”
“That a real thing?” Snake-face asked.
“Of course.” Penn swallowed half the mouthful. “It’s also Gummi Worm Day. No one thinks the drop clothes are out of place?”
“They’re in the perfect place,” someone said. 
The words carried through the darkened hallway like a chill breeze
Ep.37 – People Can Lick Too - Slithering Revenge That Bites Back! - Weekly Spooky: Scary Stories and Horror Fun Every Week!

Ep.37 – People Can Lick Too - Slithering Revenge That Bites Back!

Released on 07/08/2020

Episode Notes
After betraying his ex-girl a young man discovers that there truly is no fury like a woman scored!
People Can Lick Too by Rob Fields
Music by Ray Mattis
http://raymattispresents.bandcamp.com
Produced by Daniel Wilder
Get Cool Merchandise http://store.weeklyspooky
Support us on Patreon http://patreon.com/IncrediblyHandsome
Contact Us/Submit a Story
twitter.com/WeeklySpooky
facebook.com/WeeklySpooky
[email protected]
This episode sponsored by HenFlix.com
For everything else visit WeeklySpooky.com
Transcription:
I was having some hot sex with my girlfriend, Jensen Mirren, in my bedroom at the house. We came here to finish our date. I’d been seeing Jensen since the start of junior year at Strickfield University, about three months after I broke up with Silvia Charmer. Man! Fuuuuuuuuccccccckkkkkk!! Just thinking about that creepy girl . . . !
Suddenly, I felt Jensen shove me off her. I fell to the floor and was greeted by my dog Sparky, who was usually lying underneath my bed. I got up and saw Jensen’s angry look.
“You’re thinking about her again, Zach!” she snapped. 
“I wasn’t –” I started to protest. 
“Yes, you were!” she interrupted. “I know, because you don’t make love to me with passion whenever you’re thinking about her.” She looked at me like she’d just found out I was still sleeping with Silvia. I mean I wasn’t! That was just how she looked. “I know I’m not as hot as her, I get it.”
I got back on the bed with her. A tear was streaming down her cheek. “Why do you still love her, Zach? You’re with me, but you still love her. Why?!”
I quickly snatched Jensen to me. “I don’t love her! I love you!”
Jensen shook her head quickly. “No . . . ! No, you still keep thinking about Silvia.”
Jensen pulled away from me and got off the bed. She grabbed her clothes and got dressed. Then she stormed out. I could hear her crying as she reached the front door and left. 
Sigh . . . ! 
Jensen was wrong. Okay, yes, I still thought about Silvia Charmer, but not because I was still madly in love with her. Yes, Jenson was right about Silvia being one nicely stacked girl. I mean, Silvia was both hot and wild. Just seeing her flaming red hair and glowing green eyes was enough to put you under her spell. I mean, Silvia could have had any guy she wanted, but she had her eyes on me the day we started our freshman year at Strickfield University. 
It started with us talking. Then it was a coffee date. Then we were at her house and in her bed – right after the coffee date! For almost two years, the two of us burned each other’s beds from all the hot sex we were having. And I know what you’re thinking . . . Why would I break up with someone as sizzling as Silvia Charmer? I’m sure you’d quickly point out that she’s also rich and independent. But it’s what you don’t know!
One day, after sophomore year was over, Silvia invited me to her house to spend the afternoon with her. Her plan was for us to hang out at her indoor pool. I got to her house and let myself in like she texted me to do. I knew I’d find her in her bedroom. When I did find her, I about shit myself! She was lying on her bed in her bikini . . . 
And she had fucking snakes moving all over her body!!
Yeah, that’s right! She had several snakes hissing and slithering all over her body! They weren’t just any household snakes, neither – if there is such a thing. The first one I noticed was the rattlesnake on her belly. I knew another one was a black mamba, because we’d just seen one in the zoology lab on the other side of Strickfield University during a class. I’ll never forget that king cobra that was rubbing up against the side of her face. And don’t even get me started on that huge boa constrictor. 
When I gasped, the snakes looked at me – all at once! They didn’t move to attack me, though. Silvia just sat up casually. “Oh, hi, Zach.” Then she picked up the king cobra – like anybody could have easily done it! That was the whole creepy thing right there. None of those fucking snakes ever once attacked Silvia. 
I didn’t give Silvia time to explain. I just turned and got the fuck out of that house and never looked back. In fact, I never went to Silvia’s part of town ever again. 
Silvia tried to get with me to explain, but I didn’t want to hear her. I blocked her number on my phone. I blocked her on social media. I wouldn’t see her when she came to my house. I even avoided her on campus. I just wasn’t going to deal with her creepy shit. It had taken a few months before Silvia finally got the hint. Or so I thought . . .
Getting to Jensen Mirren, I ended up taking a liking to her when she was assigned as my lab partner in my zoology class at the start of junior year. Things started off about the same as with Silvia: just talking, a coffee date . . . But this time, we went on a few actual real dates before we started sleeping together. I also found out later that this girl was rich, too. Now, I don’t want you thinking I only dated rich girls. That was just how things turned out.
Silvia Charmer soon came back into the picture. She found out I was seeing Jensen and decided to confront me. In fact, she surprised me in one of the campus science labs. I stayed late on Friday afternoon to get some work done. I didn’t even see she’d come into the lab until she was a good six feet away. And wouldn’t you know it? She was cradling one of her fucking snakes – a copperhead! 
Silvia’s green eyes practically burned right through me. “So this is how it is, Zach? I really thought you were a decent guy, but you’re just like all the others. The second you find out what my . . . one flaw is, you just turn tail and run. Not only run, but run right into another girl’s waiting tits.”
I staggered back when the copperhead looked right at me and started to move. “Oh, shit!”
Silvia turned and gently put the snake down on one of the tables beside her. Petting its head, she told it, “You behave now, Coppy, and stay right here.”
The snake just looked right at her, as if it understood exactly what Silvia told it to do. Then Silvia turned her attention back to me. “Now, we’re going to talk things through here. We were together for two years. You owe me that!”
I laid it out for her and told her how she creeped me out with her snakes. I drilled her by asking if she let her snakes roam free in her house. I even asked her what would have happened if one of them would have bit me while we would have been making love at her house. 
Silvia looked pissed. “So . . . you dumped me just because of my snakes? My snakes are my pets, my friends. Nobody loves, appreciates, and understands snakes the way I do. My babies would never have hurt you in any way. Not unless you tried to hurt me, or them.” Her eyes burned right through me again. “I did nothing wrong, except love you with all my heart and soul for two years. When I finally decided to reveal this part of who I am to you, you fucking turned your back on me! You really hurt me, Zach! Badly! Is that all I ever was to you, hot sex?”
I shook my head. “It wasn’t like that, Silvia! I really loved you! But seeing you like that, with those snakes all over you . . . I’m sorry, but I just can’t be with you.”
I didn’t realize how dangerously close Silvia was to me now. Her face was just a few inches from mine. Her arms gently wrapped around me. Before I knew it, those amazingly soft lips were right on mine. My mind drifted back to our first kiss after our coffee date. It was exactly like this. My arms moved around her on their own. I couldn’t stop kissing her. Then I felt her tongue slithering into my mouth. 
I cried out in terror and shoved her so hard that she fell onto her side. I pointed down at her. “Get the fuck away from me!” Then her snake lifted itself and hissed loudly at me, making me scream. 
I picked up a lab pan and smashed the snake with it. I didn’t even hear Silvia’s screams or protests. When the snake fell on the floor, I stomped on its head and crushed it. I didn’t stop stomping it until I knew for sure it was dead. My heart never pounded so hard in my entire life. 
I turned to look at Silvia. Tears were streaming down her face as she slowly pulled herself up. “You bastard! You fucking son of a bitch!”
Silvia lashed out and shoved me as hard as she could. Now I was on the floor. “And to think I still loved you and wanted you back!” She lowered herself and gently cradled her bloody, dead snake into her arms. “Coppy . . .” she sobbed. 
Silvia looked back at me, her eyes burned through me – hotter than ever. “Hurting me was one thing, but you crossed the line today, Zach.” Then she screamed, “I fucking hate you! I will get revenge on you for Coppy!”
She sobbed again as she left with her dead snake. 
Funny thing . . . Ever since that day, Jensen had really been acting strange. She seemed more possessive now. She didn’t wait for me to ask her out anymore. She’d come and approach me for dates. She even got more aggressive in the bedroom. She’d gotten to the point to where she would actually grab my hair or run her nails down my back when we’d fuck. 
I was on my bed and kept thinking about everything that had happened that day in the lab with Silvia and her snake. I let my arm drop off the bed. When I felt something wet brush across my fingers, I gasped and quickly got off the bed and stood at the doorway. A few seconds later, I saw the head of my dog rise from the other side of the bed. 
“Jesus, Sparky!” I got back on the bed and let my German Shepherd climb up and lay down with me. Then I scratched his head the way I knew he liked it. “Crazy dog, always underneath my bed.”
But no matter how many times Sparky was underneath my bed and licking my hand, I could never forget how Silvia’s eyes just kept burning through me whenever we crossed paths on campus. She said she’d get revenge on me for killing her snake. And now I also had to deal with Jensen’s possessiveness. The last time Jensen and I fucked, she grabbed my hair and literally slammed my head into the
Ep.36 – A Dog and His Boy - Ferocious Revenge from a Four Legged Maniac! - Weekly Spooky: Scary Stories and Horror Fun Every Week!

Ep.36 – A Dog and His Boy - Ferocious Revenge from a Four Legged Maniac!

Released on 07/01/2020

Episode Notes
On the 4th of July one quirky canine has had enough of the dangerous fireworks display and now he's out for BLOOD.
A Dog and His Boy by David O'Hanlon
Music by Ray Mattis
http://raymattispresents.bandcamp.com
Produced by Daniel Wilder
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Contact Us/Submit a Story
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This episode sponsored by HenFlix.com
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Transcription:
Rocko eyed the bags suspiciously as his boy brought them through the living room. He recognized the starburst logo of Discount Demolitions Firework Emporium and shivered slightly. This was his third Fourth of July since the adoption and he’d already decided where he would be cowering for most of the evening. When the big artillery shells went off, he would make his way to Ryan’s closet where he could burrow into the safety of all the extra blankets. Rocko laid his head on his paws and snorted.
Stupid humans, Rocko thought. Just because you can’t bark, doesn’t mean you have to overcompensate with the big noise makers. We still love you even though you’re frail and feeble.
Rocko climbed down from the couch and stretched away his morning nap in preparation of the coming game of fetch. Ryan always played fetch with him when he came home from school. Rocko wasn’t sure why his human enjoyed throwing a ball or stick so many times, but if it brought him joy, then Rocko would gladly oblige the simple creature. There were more pressing issues to attend to first, however.
Rocko dragged his butt across the living room floor all the way to the point the carpet ended and the linoleum began. It was a simple act, but one that required great skill nonetheless. If he misjudged his distance, even slightly, he wouldn’t get the whole itch before he ran out of plush, comfortable shag. Rocko trotted into the kitchen and Ryan dropped to his knees and held his arms open.
“Come here, boy,” his human called.
Rocko jogged promptly to him and let the ten-year-old hug him and scratch him behind the ears and under his chin. Ryan asked him the usual questions, same as every day.
“Who’s a good dog? Did you miss me while I was gone? Are you ready to go play? Would you like a Milk Bone?”
Humans matured slower than dogs, so Rocko barked with increasing excitement to each question. And twice as much to make sure Ryan understood his willingness to accept a Milk Bone. There were few things as good as those delicious, bone-shaped morsels. Real bones were nice, but all the flavor was on the outside and Ryan’s mother sprayed him with a hose last time he attempted to acquire some from a squirrel that forgot its place in the food chain.
Ryan’s arm stretched up to the kitchen table and the bag of fireworks swung like a clock pendulum in his chubby little fist. Rocko’s head sagged at the sight. Ryan dumped out the contents.
“Look what we’ve got, boy.” Ryan waved his hand at the stockpile. “I know you don’t like the loud ones. I got us smoke balls, sparklers, and Roman candles so we can still have fireworks without it scaring you.”
The collie’s eyebrow raised slightly. Humans weren’t even polite enough to sniff each other’s butts, but his boy had been considerate enough to get dog-friendly ordinance for his yearly war on peace and quiet? Rocko buried his head into Ryan’s chest and nuzzled him softly.
I love my human. Rocko licked the boy’s mouth to a chorus of excited giggles. Especially when he doesn’t wash all the pizza off his face.

Rocko chewed a mouthful of grass under his favorite tree. Two games of fetch and six Milk Bones were playing hell on his stomach. The chocolate Ryan’s mom dropped while making brownies might not have helped matters, either. Rocko shallowed the weeds thoughtfully. He’d never seen Ryan eating those brownies. She kept her own personal stash and Rocko couldn’t blame her. They made him feel great… and hungry. 
Why do humans eat things that make them want to eat more things? He pondered. Bacon doesn’t make you want to eat anything other than more bacon. Bacon seems much healthier. 
Rocko vomited precisely as he intended and then sprinted to Ryan’s side. His boy was striking the fire-maker next to a colorful ball. The fuse sparkled brilliantly and Ryan tossed it a few feet away. A plume of smoke rose from the orb with a soft hiss and a horrible stench. 
“Too bad you can’t see the color, Rocko,” Ryan said.
It’s blue, kid. Rocko wasn’t sure who decided dogs couldn’t see colors. He could see all three of them just fine. 
Ryan throw another of the smoke balls. It was brown. It was also anticlimactic. Rocko appreciated Ryan’s efforts to include him in the festivities, but felt a little bad for him. The other kids were already starting in with their screeching rockets and boom sticks. Rocko’s butt tucked in as he scurried closer to the boy and away from ungodly explosion on the other side of the fence. 
Heathens. 
Rocko would try to tolerate it a bit longer so Ryan could enjoy his other goodies. The boy lit a pair of sparklers and danced about merrily, twirling patterns into the dimming sky. Rocko watched the devices spit gouts of color changing flame and found himself impressed with the show. It seemed a useless invention, but it was making Ryan happy so Rocko thought it was great. Almost as great as cartoons. 
Rocko’s tail wagged excitedly. If Ryan had pizza at school, that meant it was Friday. Which meant tomorrow was Saturday and that meant it was cartoons and Lucky Charms day. It also meant he got to sleep on the bed all day. A sudden explosion brought him back to the present and he yelped, before curling into a ball at Ryan’s feet.
Ryan knelt next to him and stoked his ears. “It’s starting to get loud now. I guess, that means it’s time for the big finale, Rocko. Let’s do some Roman candles and then we’ll go inside where it’s quiet and safe.” 
Rocko sprang up and danced in a happy circle. The sooner they went inside the sooner it would be tomorrow. Ryan lifted one of the long sticks and pointed it into the air. Rocko observed the rest of them in their cellophane packaging while Ryan tried to light the fuse. The collie cocked his head at the tiny, human words written down the side. He looked up at Ryan and then back at the warning. 
I’m pretty sure this says not to hold it, kid. Rocko barked to get his attention. Really, it says it right here in plain human. Rocko picked one of the tubes up and poked at Ryan’s leg.
“It’s not for fetch, silly.” The boy laughed and struck the lighter again. The fuse sparkled to life. 
I’m not trying to play fetch. Rocko growled urgently. You’re not supposed to—.
The bang wasn’t that loud. It was muffled by Ryan’s closed fist. 
Rocko whined mournfully as his boy collapsed to the grass. 
Rocko sighed. Damn it.
Ryan’s mom came running outside to answer the child’s screams. The shattered carboard tube sputtered and smoked beside him. She scooped her son up and ran back to the house. Rocko started to follow when he remembered something that seemed important. He turned back to retrieve Ryan’s thumb and bolted after them with the dismembered digit clutched gingerly between his teeth. The backdoor smacked him in the nose and he toppled off the steps.
A series of explosions made him cower and he turned his eyes up to the fiery sky flowers blossoming overhead. He laid Ryan’s thumb gently on the steps and scampered to his tree. He was locked out. His boy was injured on his watch. He failed to keep Ryan safe and now he was trapped outside with the fireworks. It was a fitting punishment.
He looked at the finger with its scorched knuckle and whimpered.
Please be okay, boy. Rocko curled into a ball beneath the tree’s canopy. I don’t have thumbs and I do alright. I’ll teach you how to read human so it never happens again. 

It was well past dark and the fireworks were coming faster than Rocko could count. Even the squirrels, the mental half-wits that they were, knew to hide from the human thunder. Rocko took it upon himself to personally destroy the remaining weapons of mass destruction. They tasted horrible, but it was a small price to pay to protect his boy. Ryan only had one thumb left, after all. 
“Hey, look-it,” a shrill, adolescent voice said through the knot hole in the fence. “It’s that stupid dog with the girly hair.”
Rocko recognized the voice. Rocko hated Timmy Treadwell as much as he hated those damned Roman candle things.
It’s a mane, you simpleton. Like a lion, but better because I’m not a cat. 
“I saw that little wimp and his mom leave a while ago,” another boy said. “Let’s have some fun.”
If Timmy was outside, that meant Bud and Lenny were with him. After all, you can’t have a dick without two balls hanging about. The high school trio was a scourge to the kids in the neighborhood. They chased Ryan home on more than one occasion until Rocko managed to get over the fence. A warm fuzzy feeling hit the collie’s stomach as he fondly remembered Bud urinating on himself. They knew better than to mess with his boy after that.
“Let’s have some fun,” Timmy said.
Rocko heard the telltale hiss of a fuse lighting just before the whiz of the rocket-propelled firecracker shot overhead. His ears rang from the sharp explosion. Another one came streaking through the knot hole a second later. Rocko snaked around his tree as the teens laughed maniacally on the other side of the fence. 
“Go with something bigger,” Lenny cheered.
“The big bad wolf is scared of a little pop-pop,” Timmy goaded. 
You know what, kid? You’re right. We should have a little fun. Rocko stretched out behind the wide trunk of the tree and steeled his nerves. I’ve had it up to here with you stupid, sniveling, hairless fuck knuckles and your thumb-wrecking firecrackers. Enough is enough.
The Rising Phoenix Freedom Rocket with red, white, and blue effects screamed through the hole with the ferocity its name im
Ep.35 – The Message - You Never Know Who is Watching... - Weekly Spooky: Scary Stories and Horror Fun Every Week!

Ep.35 – The Message - You Never Know Who is Watching...

Released on 06/24/2020

Episode Notes
A truly despicable college co-ed may have finally met her match because you just never know who is watching you, and what they are capable of...
The Message by Rob Fields
Music by Ray Mattis
http://raymattispresents.bandcamp.com
Produced by Daniel Wilder
Get Cool Merchandise http://store.weeklyspooky
Support us on Patreon http://patreon.com/IncrediblyHandsome
Contact Us/Submit a Story
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This episode sponsored by HenFlix.com
For everything else visit WeeklySpooky.com
Transcription:
Imagine this . . . You’re a twenty-three-year-old girl who’s got everything going for you: a very rich family, luxury and privilege, never wanting for anything, and a beautiful body. You can have any man you want. You’re on top of the world. 
Interested? Okay, let’s begin . . . 
You’ve passed every class while you were in school – without studying. Why should you have to study when you can just cruise along with your million-dollar body? You can just keep your pretty eyes on certain men . . . show generous amounts of cleavage . . . offer a handjob to the right teacher . . . All for those As you’ve never had to study for. 
You still here? Come on, stay with me . . .
You graduate with a great GPA. But in order for you to take over the family business someday, you must continue your education. You agree to go to college. Like high school, you rely on your porn star body to get through each semester of college. Like you’re actually going to crack open a book and read the assignments, right? You’re even allowed to bring a laptop to take notes, but why?! Why should you have to write . . . anything?! You’re rich! You’re privileged! You’re entitled! Besides, your glorious nails cost a pretty penny. Hell, you can charm some geek into writing your papers, right?  
You still with me? Nice . . .
You finish your first three-and-a-half years at Strickfield University, with plenty of good grades. And . . . all of your professors were guys. Coincidence? Or maybe because you know your sex appeal won’t work on women, aside from lesbians or bisexuals? Also, you’ll be damned if you lip-lock with another female. Anyway, all your professors are male. Because even college professors can let the little head think for the big head.
We’re moving along. Hang in there . . .
The second semester of your pivotal senior year comes. Things are a little more challenging. You’re finding your looks are just not enough now. To get those all-important As, you have to show your big titties . . . give more handjobs . . . maybe give a really good blowjob. And for some professors who want even more . . . you’ll actually have to spend the night with them. You haven’t been a virgin since junior high, so what difference does fucking university professors old enough to be your dad make? 
Don’t worry, it gets better. Stay with me . . . 
Now you’ve finally got that one professor . . . Yeah, that one! The one who doesn’t care about your looks, your big tits, or your sexy body. He’s a happily married man who loves his wife of twenty-five years, so the sight of you doesn’t arouse his little head in the least. No matter what you do, you just can’t win this professor over. You still refuse to take notes, do homework, or lift your pen to take exams. Your grades in his class are the worst. But you’re privileged . . . You’re entitled . . . You’re rich . . . The world owes you. Hell, what this professor makes in a year is pocket change to you, right? 
You still want to keep going? Of course you do . . .
You’re desperate now. Sitting in the back, you’ve shown him your tits during class. You’ve even shown him you weren’t wearing panties. In fact, you’ve even offered to suck your professor’s cock – more than once. Even more, you’ve offered to let him fuck you, and in some compromising places. You’ve even surprised him by waiting for him in his office . . . completely naked! Yet, the fucking professor just will not surrender to you. He never once pops a chubby. What the fuck?! Does he really love his wife that much? Nobody loves his wife for that many years! Your own parents are out fucking around on each other, for Christ’s sake. 
Ah, you’re still with me, still loving all this juiciness. Mm, mmmm . . . 
The professor’s going to turn you in to the dean for your erratic behavior. He’ll tell him that you haven’t done . . . anything really! He certainly has your grades to show for it, including your blank exams. Because you’re simply too entitled to put forth the effort. In fact, you’re entitled to everything life has to offer. 
It’s getting dark now. Turn on those smartphone flashes . . .
Now you’ve got a real problem. You can’t let your parents see that you’ve actually failed a class. Didn’t your parents tell you that if didn’t bring home the grades, they weren’t going to keep you in school? If you’re not ready to be a part of the family business, they’ll cut you off. They’ll send you out into the real world to make your own way. You’ll no longer live in luxury. You’ll no longer be entitled. You’ll no longer be pampered and have the world at your feet. You’ll be banished to the Mortal Realm with all the other bottom-feeders who have to bust their asses just to make end’s meet. There’s only one thing left to do . . . 
Darker still! Hope your smartphone batteries have a good charge . . .
You talk to your scumbag boyfriend, knowing he’s a scumbag. But he’s always been there for you when you needed him. He listens intently as you tell him about the professor who’s fucking up your whole world. Then he comes up with the perfect plan to help you get the grade you’re entitled to. All it’ll cost you is a little of your green and some quality time with your pink. Anything to keep you entitled!
Really dark now!! Hope your smartphone batteries aren’t ready to die . . .
Your boyfriend knows the professor works in his office late on Fridays. He knows your professor always gets a Mountain Dew out of the soda machine beforehand. Not coffee . . . not bottled water . . . a Mountain Dew! Probably the only unconventional thing about him. Having his office phone number, you make a desperate phone call. You tell him you need help and give him a false location. When he leaves, your boyfriend slithers into his office and roofies his Mountain Dew. Later, you and your boyfriend watch as the professor returns to his office, no doubt upset at your phone call. Oh, but he has no idea of what awaits him in that green bottle. It’s only time . . . 
We’re at NC-17 content now. Put the kids to bed . . .
You and your boyfriend take the sleeping professor to an empty classroom. It’s Friday night and nobody’s around. You undo the professor’s trousers and pull them down with his boxers. Up comes your dress – no panties. You finally get him nice and hard. And . . . Congratulations! You – a girl – just committed rape! You’ve got him by the balls – literally! You both get him dressed and take him back to his office. Next, you both go back to your place. With the incriminating juices still inside you, your boyfriend beats the living shit out of you. It has to look like an actual rape, right? When he’s finished, you call the police and tell them everything. 
Feeling pissed off yet? Good . . .
The professor is arrested. The police take samples from you both. They get a match. But they won’t find the Mountain Dew with the roofie in it. Your boyfriend saw to that. His plan worked perfectly. Yes, his plan! Psst! He’s actually smarter than you. So now . . . The professor’s in jail. He’s fired from Strickfield University. His wife leaves him after twenty-five happily married years. She wouldn’t even listen to him when he pled his case to her. He gets a trial by jury, is found guilty, and sentenced to life in prison. That night . . . he hangs himself, knowing he won’t survive prison. Your boyfriend already got into the professor’s computer to change your grade. But if it was that simple, then why ruin the man’s life? Because you’re entitled! And nobody fucks that up for you. 
Hey, you’ve made it all the way to this point. Ready for the twist? Sure you are . . .
Now, two things are established: you think you’re entitled . . . and you’re not too bright. Your boyfriend made the plan that led to the death of an innocent professor who wouldn’t give you the grade you wanted. But neither of you had any idea that a certain girl was in that same class with you. Actually, I was in a couple.  
Boy, did you two ever stand out to me . . . 
Not only did I see you showing your titties and your cooch to Professor Rodney Simmons, I even saw you arguing with him in his office after that class. I suppose those things alone wouldn’t trigger a red flag. It was after the newspapers revealed that Professor Simmons had committed suicide. I watched you both closely. Neither of you showed remorse.
I did my usual research and found the gradebook in Professor Simmons’ office before anyone came to clean it out. I took pics on my smartphone, wearing gloves of course. I also lifted fingerprints off the professor’s laptop. Some belonged to the professor. The others belonged to Jacob Lavigne. Thanks to a fingerprint scanner I rigged up, I matched them with a special program I picked up on the Dark Net that gave me immediate access to fingerprints databases. 
Now, I just needed one more thing . . .  
“What the fuck . . . ?” Genevieve Van Sant demanded. “Where am I?”
“Right where I want you,” I replied, stepping out of the darkness. 
Genevieve spoke with her entitled voice. “I know you. You’re that Criminal Justice bitch people talk about all over campus.”  
“Wow, you actually know something,” I replied. “I’m surprised you know anything, considering how stupid you are.” 
She struggled to get free. “You can’t scare me!” Then she glared at me. “You really fucked up. Once I talk to select people, you’re fucked. You don’t ever put your hands on me. Professor Simmons found that out.”
“Oh, you mean
Ep.34 – Father's Day - He's Got a Hatchet and YOU SUMMONED HIM - Weekly Spooky: Scary Stories and Horror Fun Every Week!

Ep.34 – Father's Day - He's Got a Hatchet and YOU SUMMONED HIM

Released on 06/17/2020

Episode Notes
On Father's Day a group of teens hold a seance for laughs to summon the spirit of a father who never got revenge for the murder of his daughter... What could go wrong?
Father's Day by Shane Migliavacca
Music by Ray Mattis
http://raymattispresents.bandcamp.com
Produced by Daniel Wilder
Get Cool Merchandise http://store.weeklyspooky
Support us on Patreon http://patreon.com/IncrediblyHandsome
Contact Us/Submit a Story
twitter.com/WeeklySpooky
facebook.com/WeeklySpooky
[email protected]
This episode sponsored by HenFlix.com
For everything else visit WeeklySpooky.com
Transcription:
This section of the path scared Matt shitless, not that he’d admit it to anyone.... especially to Greg and Jenny; his two best friends, walking a little ways in front of him. 
Last year there had been a stabbing. A few years before that a man’s body had been discovered face down in Pearce Creek, not that far from here. 
Matt didn’t believe in curses or bad luck, but there was a feeling he got in his gut whenever he passed through the area. 
He’d rather be at home playing video games today. 
His parents were visiting  Matt’s grandfather for Father’s day and he’d have the whole house to himself. Instead, here he was. 
Matt blamed Jenny… specifically her tight blue jeans and nice smile.  
The three of them had been friends for years. Matt was fairly certain that Jenny had a thing for Greg, but Greg was oblivious to it… but it was only a matter of time before he noticed. 
Matt could feel his chance with Jenny slipping away if he didn’t speak up soon.
He winced as the two laughed about some joke.
“So, where the hell are we going?” Matt blurted out. 
Greg looked back over his shoulder. “Don’t have a cow dude, we’re almost there.” 
Jenny laughed, making Matt feel a bit annoyed. He kicked a stone off the path, watching it shoot off into the grass. The three walked in silence for a few minutes, until Greg stopped them.
“And here we are.” He pointed towards the left side of the trail. 
Matt’s gaze followed his friend’s gesture. There through the trees, the roof of a house could be seen. It’s tiled roof weathered from age and the elements. 
“There?” Jenny asked. 
“Yup!” Greg said proudly. 
They followed him off the path, Pushing through some brush to get to the house. As they emerged into the house’s overgrown backyard, it’s ramshackle condition became more apparent. 
“What a dump.” Jenny observed. “We’re not-”
Greg cut her off. “Sure as shit we are.”
“Why?” Asked Matt, wishing he’d stayed home. 
“Because.” Greg answered as he walked up the steps to the back door. “Don’t you want to have some fun? Instead of jacking off to Saved By The Bell all day?”
“Har, Har.” Matt responded. He felt a bit of anger boil through from his friend’s consent prodding. He surprised himself when he flipped Greg off. 
“I didn’t think you had it in you.” Somebody said, clapping. “Besides, I see you stroking it more to Power Rangers.”
They turned to see Dave Stover standing by the side of the house. A girl dressed in black stepped out from behind him. Her short brown hair was slicked straight back, and a black choker encircled her neck. 
“What are you doing here Stover?” Matt asked. There was something about that smug, shiteating grin that made Matt want to punch Stover’s teeth in. 
Greg and Stover went way back. Why his friend would hang out with that ass was beyond Matt.
“He’s the reason we’re here.” Greg answered. 
Matt sighed. “Great.”
Stover introduced the girl. “This is Ember. She's going to help us play a little game.”
They followed Stover into the house. 
The back door opened easily. The smell of stale cat urine greeted them as they stepped into a bare kitchen.  
Jenny whispered in Matt’s ear. “Ember? That’s bullshit. Her name’s Traci Hollis. She’s in my English Lit class.”
The two softly chuckled. 
Stover took them down a musty hallway. 
The plaster walls were chipped and marked with graffiti. Chunks of broken plaster crunched underfoot. Matt wondered who’d lived here. There was nothing left to mark their time here.
The hallway opened up in a large room. At the room’s center was a large circle of candles. Strange symbols were written on the floor within the circle. 
Matt felt strangely uneasy as he entered the room. 
He didn’t believe in magic, but it didn’t mean you went messing around with the shit. 
“What the hell?” Matt said. “I don’t think we should fuck around with this stuiped shit.”
“Relax man.” Greg reassured his friend. “Wait till you hear the story.”
“Let’s find out first.” Jenny added. “I want to find out what’s up.”
Damn it. Matt didn’t want to walk out with Jenny staying behind… partly because he’d look like a wimp and partly because he worried about her.
“Then, let’s get on with it.” Matt grumbled. “What have we got to do?”
Ember sat them around the circle all holding hands, with him and Stover on either side of Ember. Matt felt a little nervous and shy taking the girl’s pale hand. She smelled like sage, and her lips were black as midnight. 
Staring into her eyes for a second, he forgot about Jenny. 
Stover cleared his throat before starting. “Man got home from the war and bought this house for him and his pregnant wife. They wanted to start a future here.”
Greg interrupted.  “Which war?”
“What?” Stover stammered. 
“Which war?”
Stover’s brow furrowed. “That one, a long time ago… in the ‘70’s.”
“Korea?” Jenny asked.
“No, that one from Rambo... ‘Nam.”
“Wasn’t that in the 80’s?” Greg said, unsure.
Frustrated, Stover grumbled. “Does it fucking matter?”
“Well, context.” Greg said. “Helps set the scene better man.”
“It was the fucking ‘70’s… okay? Can I get on with the story?”
Nobody said anything.
“So the dude and his wife bought this house. A couple years later they have a daughter. The three have a happy life for a bunch of years. Then the mom gets sick and dies.”
“Awww, that blows.” Jenny said. 
Stover ignored her, continuing on with the story. 
“The father was left to raise the girl by himself, and he did the best he could… got a second job and shit.” Stover leaned forward. 
“Then one day, the father came home, worn out from a tough day. The daughter, fifteen at the time, told him to take a nap in his favorite chair.” Stover smiled. “Right over there.” Indicating a corner of the room.
“She wanted to surprise him, make him some dinner. So she decided to walk to the convenience store just down the path.”
“What?” Greg asked. “I don’t remember any store around here.”
Stover sighed. “The vacant lot on Rathburn… used to be a store there. They closed it because it was getting robbed too much.”
“Oh.” Greg nodded, mulling it over. 
“Anyway, the father wakes up.” Stover continued. “He finds the house all dark. He calls for his daughter and there’s no answer.”
Jenny shifted nervously on the floor.
“Before he can go out to find her there’s a knock at the door. It’s the police. The cops ask if she’s there. The clerk at the shop called the cops after the girl was getting harassed by some boys. Well, days passed and there was no trace of the girl. The father grew desperate.”
Matt glanced at Ember, who had her eyes closed. Was she meditating? 
“Finally one day, they found one of the girl’s shoes near the hangout of a bunch of boys… the ones that had been giving the girl a hard time that night. Trouble is, there’s no other evidence. The cops couldn’t do shit.”
Matt looked over at Jenny, who was enjoying the story. His mind wandered as he briefly thought of Jenny, Ember and him all alone together. The thought was a little too much for his hormones. He could feel things stirring that shouldn’t be right now. 
He quickly turned his attention back to the story, trying to focus on Stover’s words. 
“This wasn’t good enough for the father. So, one by one he captured and tortured the boys… killing every one of them with a hatchet he’d had in the war... save for one boy he let live. Why the one boy? Nobody knows. After the deed he came home and hung himself in this very room!” 
Stover laughed like a maniac. 
“Did he find her?” Jenny blurted out. 
Stover shrugged. “Nobody knows. The father killed himself before anybody found out. The boy he let live was a nutcase… they have him locked away up in Wolten. He’s never uttered a word since.”
“That was quite a story.” Matt said. 
“A real bummer.” Jenny added. 
“What’s it got to do with us?” Matt asked. 
“Since it’s Father’s Day.” Stover smiled. “I thought we’d try to contact the daughter’s spirit with the help of Ember here. Maybe we can find out what happened to her.” 
“Really?” Matt asked sarcastically. 
“For sure.” Stover replied.
Suddenly Ember tightened her grip on their hands. 
Without thinking, Matt tightened his grip in response. 
The girl opened her eyes, making brief contact with him. 
Suddenly Matt felt his face become warm…  his chest tightened and he found it hard to breathe. And then it passed.
“I’m ready.” The girl said. Her gaze passed over each and every one of them in turn. “It’s important to remain in a circle, holding hands. We’re safe. You don’t want to be pulled away into the spirit world.”
Ember took a deep breath. “I call upon the four elements. Earth, Water, Fire and Air. Give me strength.” The girl started to rock back and forth. “Guide us over the bridge between this world and the next.” 
The candles seemed to flicker briefly as a gust of wind passed through the room.
“I call upon the spirit of Samantha Swane.” 
A low warbling moan started up from somewhere in the house. Matt felt the hairs on his arms stand up. The air felt charged.
“There’s a presence here.” Ember said. 
There was an unearthly moan. From above the group a loud bang sounded, making them jump all jump. 
Ember warned them. “Don’t break contact.”
The otherworldly moan grew louder. The house itself creaked and groaned as if in pain. 
“Spirit, speak.” Ember commanded. “Tell us your name.” 
There was another unearthly wail of pain. “My name is…” A voice spoke. “My name Is… Harry Reems.”
Stover burst into laughter. 
“The fuck?
Ep.33 – The Faithful - Terrors on Another Planet! - Weekly Spooky: Scary Stories and Horror Fun Every Week!

Ep.33 – The Faithful - Terrors on Another Planet!

Released on 06/10/2020

Episode Notes
A crew has landed on a new planet hoping to find sanctuary, but what they find is a monstrosity beyond all earthly imagination.
The Faithful by David O'Hanlon
Music by Ray Mattis
http://raymattispresents.bandcamp.com
Produced by Daniel Wilder
Get Cool Merchandise http://store.weeklyspooky
Support us on Patreon http://patreon.com/IncrediblyHandsome
Contact Us/Submit a Story
twitter.com/WeeklySpooky
facebook.com/WeeklySpooky
[email protected]
This episode sponsored by HenFlix.com
For everything else visit WeeklySpooky.com
Transcription:
“How long has it been since the gods answered a prayer?” Rayburn Halsey checked his watch. 
It was still on Mars time and had been for thirty-seven years since the flight began. “More than six hours, that’s for sure. For thousands of years, every culture on Earth reported interactions with gods. And then one day, they just stopped talking to us. Go to your room, Creation. You’re grounded. Maybe we had it coming.” 
Halsey sipped the juice packet and stared at the planet on his monitor. Swirling clouds obstructed any view of the surface, just as they had since their arrival. He tapped his fingers nervously on the console. 
“Pilot Amber Mitchell deployed to the surface of Baron-117 exactly five-hours ago. According to our most recent calculations, we have less than twenty-six weeks of supplies. There are nineteen planets and thirty-seven moons in the quarantine zone. That’s not counting four outlying planetoids. Historical records are shady, to say the least. Five-hundred years will do that. We must take the chance that whatever our forebears were afraid of didn’t cover the entire system. It’s illogical to even think it could.”
The door dilated behind him and Mike Delaine leaned in. “Any word from Mitchell?”
Halsey flicked off the flight recorder. “Preliminary numbers look good. It’s cold, but above freezing. The atmosphere is breathable for the most part. Helium levels are a little higher, oxygen a little lower, so I want helmets on. I’m adjusting the ship’s gravity slowly to match surface numbers. I don’t want anyone face planting as soon as we hit the ground.”
“Does that mean we’re going?” Delaine’s question was stained with uncertainty.
“Got any other ideas? We’re still thirteen months from our destination. We have a hold full of colonists that need to properly defrost. If we wait any longer, we’re not going to have the supplies to do that. I’m not murdering two-thousand people because something went wrong out here during the Dark Age of Space. Records show three planets and two moons were affected by the incident, but that’s about all we’ve got to go on. It literally says ‘the incident’ with no further information.”
“A lot of records were lost during the War. People rushed to save our history and our art and forgot about things like NASA communication records.” Delaine shook his head and sighed. “Kind of wish that were the other way around right about now. I mean, whatever it was made them quarantine an entire solar system and we’re smackdab in the middle of it all. But hey,” Delaine clapped his hands together, “at least I saw that Warhol painting of some soup cans.”
“Yeah.” Halsey stretched in his seat. “I’m going to start waking the rest of the crew. Prep the dropship, we’re going down to help Amber establish a landing zone.”
“We’re not even waiting for them to wake up?”
“You want to sit here for another thirty-six hours babysitting popsicles? We need to get down there and make sure we have a place to set down. The Eden module flies a little better than a dog in a jetpack, so I want to make sure we have a very wide margin for error.” 
“Sure thing.” Delaine walked outside into the corridor and turned back. “Hey, Rayburn.”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think anyone will ever find us?”
The automated door closed before Halsey could tell him no. Maybe gods did still answer prayers. 

The dropship rocked on its landing struts. 
Halsey and Delaine watched through the viewscreen as the orange-brown dust settled and gave them their first clear view of the planet. There were tall, wide, coniferous trees spaced hundreds of yards apart. Yellow, egg-shaped cones sprouted from branches high above in nests of feathery, chartreuse leaves. Great, tentacle-like roots tore up the ground around them and joined together like a massive web. Each of the thick roots stood out of the dirt, two feet wide at their narrowest point and ten closest to the trunks.
“Well, looks like we have plenty of room to put the Eden down. No way we’re using rovers with those roots though.” Delaine looked over his shoulder at the six-wheeler. “I was really looking forward to something going smoothly.”
Halsey unclipped his harness and laughed softly. “Del, has it occurred to you that being stranded on a deserted planet is things going smoothly?”
“That’s depressing.” Delaine removed his restraints and crawled into the cargo hold with the rover. 
Halsey squeezed through after him. “That was a reentry vehicle that struck us. I played back the recording thirty times. Just some antique space junk that drifted into our lane. That kind of thing shouldn’t happen, especially out here. The odds of surviving it are even slimmer.”
“I know, Rayburn. We’re alive and we shouldn’t be. Maybe I should count us lucky, but I’m having a real hard time with that right about now. You know what I’m saying?”
“I do. Helmet on, we’re burning daylight.” 
Both men fastened their helmets into place on the aluminum rings of their atmospheric suits and proceeded through the smaller side door of the ship. Halsey stepped out first and let his legs adjust fully to the gravity before taking a few tentative steps forward. Delaine joined him and stretched, shaking his head as he did. The roots of the trees provided a constant obstacle as they advanced forward. 
“That cloud coverage is really something.” Halsey watched the citrine sky swirl and then checked his wrist-mounted tablet. “We’re almost a quarter-mile south of Amber’s lander. Strange.”
“Not really. Those clouds could really obscure a signal,” Delaine reassured him.
“Not that. Amber’s moving to the east for some reason.” He swiped a finger across the screen and sent the image over to his partner. A red blip moved across the screen with an ever-growing number above it. “She’s moving at a pretty good clip.”
The navigational officer looked at the screen carefully and then up at the wild expanse of towering trees and rising, sweeping roots. “How’s she moving that fast across this terrain?”
“That’s a damn good question, Del. Want to hear a better one?”
Delaine nodded slowly, hesitantly. “Shoot.”
“Why is she moving that fast across this terrain?” Halsey unhooked the rifle from his air pack and pulled back the charging handle.
“I really just wanted something to go smooth.” Delaine ready his weapon as well. 
The two men started to jog, mindful of the difference in gravity. They weaved their way through the roots, looking for the low spots to hurdle whenever they could and boosting each other over the taller places. 
They arrived at Mitchell’s lander almost twenty minutes later and were already exhausted. 
Their first impression wasn’t a good one. 
The lander was a good size smaller than the dropship—they were designed to carry one member of the team to the planet and keep them alive for three days. It looked like an upside-down gemstone, pointed on the top and wide on the bottom. There was a chair that folded into something resembling a bed and around that was boxes fixed to the floor with food, water, basic medical supplies, and a carbine for defense. A big red box served as the base of the chair and contained all the necessary tools for demolishing anything that might hinder the landing of the larger dropship. 
A bloody handprint on the polished shell of the lander was their first clue that something was wrong. 
Halsey signaled for Delaine to move behind a root and cover him while he crept closer. 
The door squeaked on a light breeze, rocking softly on its hinge and through the gap Halsey could see brown hair splayed out across the floor. His stomach twisted in knots as he eased the door open with the barrel of his weapon.
The thing on the floor was not Amber Mitchell. 
In fact, despite the similar hair it was not even potentially the same species. It had two arms and two legs, but it was hard to tell where the furs it wore ended and its body hair began. A shock of brunette covered its face, or what was left of it. A few teeth and a dislodged eye were the only recognizable features anymore. A bloodied wrench was tossed into the corner. Everything else seemed to be in order.
“Del!” 
Delaine popped out from his cover and sprinted to the lander.
He looked inside and made an inarticulate squealing-cough as a word failed to make it past his throat.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” Halsey checked the tracking application again and saw the pilot had stopped moving a little over three miles to the east. “We’re not alone on this planet. That thing,” he jerked a thumb towards the corpse, “has friends. She left the water, carbine, and explosives. Amber’s being chased, I’d stake my life on it.”
“I had my choice of assignments and this is what I picked?” Delaine waved for Halsey to follow him and walked gingerly up a root until its tallest point. “There’s no way to run over all of this. How was she moving that fast?”
“Maybe she ditched her environmental gear.”
“Rayburn, we need to turn back.”
“Amber’s in trouble.”
“No.” Delaine shook his head violently. “We’re in trouble. There’s no way to move through this mess and when we do, we’re going to be too far behind. Comms aren’t working and we’re up against an indigenous force of unknown size and technology. We need to go back to the drop and rejoin the crew on the Wayfarer.”
“And Amber?”
“We come back for her later, in greater numbers.” He put a hand on Halsey’s shoulder. “I know what she means to you, but we don’t have another option.”
Halsey walked eastward, shaking
Ep.32 – Moonstruck - Lunatics That Can Smell Your Blood! - Weekly Spooky: Scary Stories and Horror Fun Every Week!

Ep.32 – Moonstruck - Lunatics That Can Smell Your Blood!

Released on 06/03/2020

Episode Notes
Something horribly is happening to people who look at the night sky... Some are frozen in awe, others aren't so lucky... Lunatics that can hear you bleed!
Moonstruck by Mark “Ferret” Mohlenhoff
Music by Ray Mattis
http://raymattispresents.bandcamp.com
Produced by Daniel Wilder
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Transcription:
3:01
I groggily get up and reach for my phone on the charger.  Having been asleep for about 45 minutes, I was slightly peeved.  Thankfully, my boyfriend is still asleep, since he will be up in a couple of hours for work anyway.  Looking at my phone, I see an emergency message stating: “ATTENTION: Do Not Look at the Moon for Any Reason!”
My first thought is, Why the HELL is this being sent out as an emergency message?  I look down the notification listing on my lock screen.  Facebook has blown the fuck up with notifications just in the last 30 minutes.  Hundreds of notifications and shares.  Even Twitter has been going nuts.  I see notifications from FB Messenger, and even text messages, both from numbers known and unknown.  Thirty seconds later, my boyfriend’s phone goes off.  I move quickly to silence his phone.  Free from the burdens of social media, he is missing out on notifications, but he also has numerous text messages from people we collectively know and from unknown senders.
As I am looking back at my phone, Rusty starts to awaken, having heard the piercing screech of the emergency message.  He looks over and sees me with a puzzled look on my face, “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” I reply.  “My phone woke me up, and there’s this message saying to not look at the moon.  I also have notifications from Twitter and Facebook, as well as text messages from over 50 people, prodding me to look outside—'What a beautiful night out!’”
Waking up a little more, Rusty starts to sit up, picking up his phone.  He sees that he has a missed call from his brother, Michael, and starts to dial his number.  Just as he is about to hit the call button, my phone starts ringing.  My sister, Virginia, is calling me.  I know she is usually still up, as she is one of the worst night owls I have ever met.  I answer, knowing something bad is happening.  I say with a hint of worry in my voice, “Virginia, what’s wrong?!”
Anxiety already settled into her voice, Virginia blurts out, “Oh my God, Dean!  You picked up… Thank you!  Have you heard about what’s going ON?  I was playing my game when the power went out.  I looked down at my phone and saw a whole bunch of Facebook notifications about the moon, and then got the Emergency Alert demanding we stay inside.  I don’t know what’s happening!”  She rushes.  I can tell she is barely able to contain her panic.
“Okay, sis. Calm down!  I just woke up so let me get my bearings.  For now, stay away from the windows. Go ahead and wake Mom up, let her know what’s going on, and I’ll call you back as soon as I know anything.”  I try to be reassuring, but it’s kind of hard over the phone.  Hopefully Mom will be able to calm her down.  “Hey, I love you,” I tell her hoping it helps to calm her.  “I love you, too,” she nervously mumbles back and hangs up the phone.
Looking over, Rusty is still on the phone, and from the sounds of things, he is talking about the same thing.  I start to scroll through social media and news sites trying to figure out what is going on.  I am afraid to look outside, not knowing what it is I will see.  In that moment, an eerie feeling dawns on me.  Where there has always been an underlining calm but consistent buzzing in the air--it was now absent.  There are absolutely no noises coming from outside.  Not even the sounds of bugs or wildlife are present.  I notice that our fan is not on. The low hum of the television and the refrigerator are gone. It is never this quiet in our house at night.   We had to have lost power, I think to myself.  Looking at my phone screen, I am thankful that my phone reads full battery and that I have charged up my backup battery recently.
I open Google to see if there are any news postings on the home feed.  As I am looking, Rusty gets off the phone.  “Michael says that something weird is happening outside his neighborhood.  There are a whole bunch of people standing there, looking up at the sky.”  He reaches for the TV remote, but nothing happens when he hits the power button.  “Don’t bother,” I say, “the power’s out.”
I continue looking through the news feeds.  Just then, Rusty starts to go for the door.  As he unlocks it, I look up and say, “Don’t!  Let’s see what we can find out first before we expose ourselves to whatever is out there.”  I click on a local news posting.  The Post and Courier headline reads, "Killer Skies"...
"Locals are currently baffled by a strange phenomenon in the skies tonight.  Current reports state that citizens who have braved the outside are finding people either laying in the streets, seemingly dead or just standing there, gazing into the unknown.  Around 2:35 A.M. Eastern Standard Time, people reportedly started sending and receiving messages via text and social media about the “beauty of the moon.” Considering the moon set around 2:08 AM, something else has drawn the attention of the populace.  If you find anyone standing outside, it is advised by officials at this time to leave them alone, as they are reportedly becoming agitated and aggressive when moved.  They also advise to stay indoors and away from windows.   Covering any access to the outside is also advised at this time, blocking any view of the skyline.
This is a developing story and will be updated when information becomes available."
As I finish reading, I look at Rusty and see concern cross his face.  "Call your brother and warn him to stay away from the windows.  I'll call Virginia and tell her the same."  As I punch the next to the last digit, we hear a loud explosion, which sounds like it came from down the road.  Thankfully, the windows didn't blow in.  "Shit!", yells Rusty.  He starts to reach for the door again and I forcefully blurt out, "No!  There is nothing we can do right now.  If we go outside, even to look, we may become affected.  I'll call 911, you call Michael, then call your parents."
I proceed to call 911, and the line is busy.  Considering everything that is happening tonight, it's no surprise.  Still not a great thought.  I can only hope that no one was injured in that explosion.
I call Virginia, and my heart drops.  "Mom was asleep, but Dad was not, and he's nowhere in the house.  I can't find him!", she tells me frantically.  "Don't look outside.  Stay away from the windows and doors and try to call him.  Make sure Mom stays inside.", I tell her.  "I tried that already, but it just goes straight to voicemail."  I can tell she is starting to lose it.   "VIRGINIA!", I say sharply, "I need you to calm down!  Take Mom into the bedroom and stay there.  Rusty and I will be there when we can.  We'll find Dad, but right now, you and Mom need to stay safe.  We will be there shortly!"
Thank the Gods my brain kicks in when something happens.  I slip into emergency mode like a professional. After the call, I start to have a little breakdown as plans start to settle into place. I never thought I would be as grateful as I am now.
Rusty finishes his phone call and hugs me as I finish my cry. No words—just love and support. After I clean myself up a bit, he moves to the clothes pile and starts to get dressed.  "How are we going to get there without looking at the skyline?", he asks.  The thought had crossed my mind when I was having my mini break down.  "You have 2 broad brimmed hats. We'll keep the brim low so all we see is the street ahead of us so we can avoid anyone or anything in the road.  We'll also take it very slow since we won't be able to see that far ahead.  We only need to worry about the one bridge, so if we are lucky, nothing will be on it to get in our way.", I explain.  Thinking it over, he nods his head and says, "It's as good a plan as any."  After we finish dressing, we look around to make sure we don't need anything else.  My eyes wander over to the washer in the corner, where we keep the firearms, Frau and Igor, and the ammo boxes.  "Just to be on the safe side, I want to bring them along.  With everything going on tonight, I would feel a lot safer having something with a little bite to keep things at bay if things get hairy.", I say to Rusty.  He looks at me and replies, "That was happening anyway, but at least we are on the same page."
We load a couple of clips for the rifles and grab our knives from between the mattress and futon.  I look over to where Thor and Loki, our ferrets, are in their cage, looking longingly at us.  With all the commotion of the last half hour, I'm not surprised we have their attention.  Gods, has it only been 30 minutes? Feels like we have been going for hours already, I think to myself.  Time moves so much different in moments of stress, turmoil, and chaos.  "We'll be back boys.", I say as we walk to the door.  I hope…
We grab the hats off the pegs on the wall.  They are the type that have the snaps on the sides to give the Aussie look on either side.  We make sure they are not snapped, pull the brims as low as we can, allowing ourselves some sort of visual, and leave the apartment.  I look around as Rusty locks the door, and the surrealness starts to set in.  Across the marsh, there is a fire raging from one of the houses over there.  I can only imagine what happened to cause the explosion.  I whisper a little prayer to whomever is listening that no one was hurt.
As we start to walk toward the jeep, the motion sensor light from apartment D comes on and we see someone standing in the front yard.  It's our neig
Ep.31 – The High Beam Initiation - Murder on Wheels! - Weekly Spooky: Scary Stories and Horror Fun Every Week!

Ep.31 – The High Beam Initiation - Murder on Wheels!

Released on 05/27/2020

Episode Notes
If you flash your high beams at a car you may find yourself on the wrong end of death in this initiation based on a real urban legend!
The High Beam Initiation by Rob Fields
Music by Ray Mattis
http://raymattispresents.bandcamp.com
Produced by Daniel Wilder
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Support us on Patreon http://patreon.com/IncrediblyHandsome
Contact Us/Submit a Story
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This episode sponsored by HenFlix.com
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Transcription:
It’s Friday night, and I’m sitting in the back seat of a Ford Mustang as we’re driving down a nearly deserted county road. 
As it turns out, I’m a pledge for the Sigma Kappa Beta fraternity. But wait! I’m a girl! 
You might be asking . . . Shouldn’t I be pledging a sorority? As it turns out, Strickfield University has all-male fraternities, all-female sororities, and a few coed fraternities. I’ve been told that the Sigmas is one of the top fraternities to be a member of. 
I’ve been pledging this fraternity for a while now. While we do have fun, even as pledges, we’ve had to do a select few choice things. Things we’re not supposed to talk about. This car ride tonight is one of them. 
I’m sitting in between Blain Nelson and Constance Vanderbilt, the two co-heads of this fraternity. 
Looking at us, you’d swear we were part of some rich-people club. We’re expected to wear our polo shirts, skirts for girls and trousers for guys, and loafers with socks. We even have ascots around our necks. Since we’re supposed to be prominent members of both the university and of society, we’re expected to conduct ourselves as such. 
I glance over my shoulder and see the other car following behind us, a Dodge Charger. Then I look ahead again. 
Constance takes hold of my hand. “Don’t worry, love. It won’t be that bad once it’s your initiation.”
“Tonight, you’re going to see what William Hartley will be doing . . . what the few others before him did . . . and you next Friday,” Blain adds. 
We drive down the road for a little while longer. Then I notice it gets darker behind me. 
I look over my shoulder and see that the Charger now has its headlights off. I turn back around and am about to ask about that, but I notice that the lights are now off in this car, too. 
“It’s all part of the initiation,” Blain tells me. “Nothing to worry about.”
Constance still holds my hand. “Don’t be scared.”
I try to relax and just enjoy the ride. We’re coming to a long stretch of straight road after a series of curves. Just ahead, a car comes towards us. 
“We have a possibility . . .” Blain kind of sings quietly. 
I’m about to ask him what he means, but then the car ahead of us flashes their brights. Normally, that’s what people do when they want you to know you don’t have your headlights on after dark. 
Constance squeezes my hand a little. “Get ready!” 
After we pass the car, we suddenly screech into a hard turn – like in the movies. As we straighten and pursue the car that flashed us, the Charger also turns around and again follows behind us.
Carson Van Horn, our driver, looks in the rearview mirror. “Yeah, it’s her, all right. We got her!”
He hits the gas.
Now we move into the opposite lane and are soon next to the flashing car. I look to see who’s driving. It’s still too dark to see who’s inside, but it does look like a girl, based on her long hair. 
Carson honks the horn, one blare after another. Then it’s one continuous blare. 
The flashing car tries to speed away, but it’s no match for this Mustang. We speed up and soon drive past it.
Suddenly, Carson hits the brakes and swerves in front of the other car. 
The other car brakes suddenly and swerves off the road. The Charger moves and stops right next to the passenger’s side door. I wonder why. I guess I’ll soon find out. 
Constance pats my hand. “Showtime, Caprice. Time to see how your initiation will be next Friday night.”
We get out of our cars. The girl gets out of her car. She turns to run, but then something just tears the night air! Was that a gun?!
The girl cries out! Then she slams hard against her open door and tumbles over it. 
We all move over to the girl. All I can do is feel my heart pounding rapidly. Did somebody really shoot her?!
“Good job, William!” I hear Donna Blossom chime. “Now finish the bitch!”
The girl whimpers in pain as we close in on her. I still can’t see her face fully, because there isn’t much light. Also, the moon’s not full. 
She tries to stand up, but William raises his pistol and shoots her again. The girl screams loudly. William steps up to her and shoots her once more – in the stomach. She groans and forces herself to sit up.
Then she screams at us in defiance, “You’ll be fucking sorry – all of you!”
Constance lets go of my hand. Then she and Blain lower themselves. 
“No, bitch,” Constance murmurs. “You were the one who fucked up. You never challenge the Sigmas.”
Blain chuckles. “Yeah, calling the police on us for last Friday night’s initiation? Seriously?!”
Constance spits in the girl’s face. “You got our pledge expelled, you stupid cunt! We simply can’t let that stand, can we?”
“Go ahead, William,” Blain tells him. “It’s your show.”
William lashes out with his foot and kicks the girl in the face to send her full on her back. Then he aims his pistol and empties the rest of it into her face. I want to gasp and faint, but I’m too paralyzed right now. 
The full Sigmas gather around William and congratulate him. I don’t really hear what they’re saying. 
Did this really happen?! A girl is killed in a cold-blooded initiation. It’s almost as if we did a gang ritual or some shit. I mean, I know our coed fraternity has issues with certain people on our campus. But did it have to come to . . . this?!
 
Christ, my heart won’t stop pounding!
Donna grabs William and sucks face with him. Then I look up again and hear the others cheering Donna and William on. Then they get on the ground and start fucking – right next to the girl’s body!!
“You’re one of us, honey,” Donna cheers to William. “You’re a full Sigma now.”
“Yes,” Blain assures him. “Now you’ll truly reap the benefits of being a Sigma.”
I lower myself and use my smartphone camera light on the body. Then I see the tattoo on the girl’s inner right wrist. It looks like a figure-eight ribbon – but blue! I quickly stand up and move to the girl’s car. 
“Where are you going?” Constance calls to me. 
“We have to get rid of the evidence, right?” I call back. “I’m getting the girl’s purse.”
“Good call!”
I get in the girl’s car. Her purse is sitting in the passenger’s side. I yank it over to me and pull out her wallet. Using my smartphone camera light, I learn whom William just killed. 
My eyes grow wide when I see it was Melodie Carlisle. I fucking know this girl! She was a co-chair of an organization that operates on our campus. I can’t say which one. Once the other co-chair, her fraternal twin sister Katie, learns of Melodie’s death, there’s going to be some serious fucking hell to pay! 
I guarantee it! 
It’s Friday again, and my initiation into the Sigmas is tonight. I’ve managed to do everything in my power to keep both my composure and a straight face. Even when I find myself walking past Melodie’s friends, I have to really give it my all to keep from going batshit crazy. Oh, those girls give me dirty looks. You know what I’m talking about! 
In fact, I’m in the restroom over at Kendall Hall when I finally realize that I’ve made a critical mistake. I’m alone – without a Sigma brother or sister. Suddenly, I hear the door being pulled shut. I turn to see Katie Carlisle and two other girls beside her. No doubt, there are one or two more standing outside – keeping people out.
 
There’s nowhere to run! Katie Carlisle is on me just like that! She backs me up against a wall and presses a hand on my shoulder to hold me there. Then she glares into my eyes and gives me a deadly smile. 
Her always-purring, whispering voice cuts me to the bone. “You were there last Friday night, Caprice. You didn’t kill Melodie, but you were there.”
“I . . . I . . . had no idea . . .” I stammer.
“You’re only a pledge, so why would you?” Katie shakes her head slowly. “And killing you isn’t an option. I would never allow that. You need make this right.”
“But . . . but . . .” I sputter.
 
Katie leans in and gently brushes her lips to mine and pecks them. “If you don’t . . . you’ll have so much to lose. All you’ve worked for, you’ll have just pissed away . . . It doesn’t have to be this way. You’re not initiated to Sigma yet. You still have time to do the right thing.”
“I’ll . . . go to the . . . the police,” I stammer. 
“You can, but you’ll still lose everything.” Katie’s face is still dangerously close to mine. “And the police can’t protect you – not from us. If you really want to make things right . . . with yourself . . . with me . . .”
The other two girls gather in . . . There’s no way out of this!
It’s Friday night now. It’s my turn to become a full Sigma initiate. As with last Friday night, I’m sitting in between Blain and Constance in the back of Carson’s Mustang. 
“Don’t worry, love,” Constance assures me. As before, she’s holding and caressing my hand. “I’ve been conditioning you all week. You’ve got this.”
“I’ll be okay,” I assure her. 
Blain hands me the semi-automatic pistol. “Not the same one William used. Here you go. It’s fully locked and loaded.”
I take my hand back from Constance and cradle the pistol, which feels very heavy. I caress it and know that this piece of hot metal is the key to unlocking my whole future. Once I complete my initiation, the world is my oyster. 
The Sigmas got intel that Katie Carlisle herself is going to be my target. She’s supposed to be heading down this county road that we’re turning onto right now. Supposedly, she takes this road when she wants to go home and visit her family. Remember, Katie and Melodie are both high-profile girls on our campu
Ep.30 – Savior of the Sea - Aquatic Horror from the Deep! - Weekly Spooky: Scary Stories and Horror Fun Every Week!

Ep.30 – Savior of the Sea - Aquatic Horror from the Deep!

Released on 05/20/2020

Episode Notes
A young woman is thrown into a world of horrors from the depths of the ocean as a creature has evil plans for her body AND her soul!
Savior of the Sea by "Splatter" Joe Solmo
Music by Ray Mattis
http://raymattispresents.bandcamp.com
Produced by Daniel Wilder
Get Cool Merchandise http://store.weeklyspooky
Support us on Patreon http://patreon.com/IncrediblyHandsome
Contact Us/Submit a Story
twitter.com/WeeklySpooky
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[email protected]
This episode sponsored by HenFlix.com
For everything else visit WeeklySpooky.com
Transcription:
Hannah dove behind the stainless steel cart in the hotel kitchen. The hissing sound continued in the hallway. She could see the shadow of the thing under the door where the hall light invaded the room. Revulsion rose inside her and she placed her hand over her mouth fearing an imminent vomit. How did this day turn into this? She asked herself. How does something like this happen?
                Two days ago she arrived in Portland for a dental convention. The hotel staff had been all friendly with her, the doorman, the desk clerk, even the maids wore a smile on their faces that first day. She went to the convention and sat through boring seminars all day and only wanted to return to her room for a long soak in the tub, but something had gone seriously wrong.
                The lobby was dark when she arrived. She used her cellphone to light her way towards the stairs. About halfway across the green carpet she almost fell when she stepped in something wet. The carpet sloshed under her feet.
                She heard a groan behind the desk and made her way there by LED torchlight. There she found the clerk laying behind the mahogany counter, clutching his stomach. She could see the red stains spreading on his white shirt.
                “I’ll call for help,” she whispered, but the clerk tugged on her leg with a bloody hand.
                “Run,” he said, and the look in his eyes sent shivers down Hannah’s spine. She turned back towards the door and that was when she first caught a glimpse of it.
                The body was slick with moisture, translucent and almost amorphous in design, but her eyes didn’t fixate on its body. It had long appendages, two on each side where arms should be, but these looked more like tentacles. They had to be at least ten feet long, and flopped across the wet carpet like an unmanned firehose.
                Its face reminded her of a squid. With a beak located centrally, it had no eyes on its slick face. She caught glimpses of sharp yellowish teeth when it opened its maw. Two thick squat legs held the atrocity upright, ending in clawed feet with three toes. It screeched at her sounding like a movie version of a pterodactyl.  It was blocking the door, there was nowhere to escape.
                She ran towards the back, behind the counter, passing the dying clerk on the way. He still clutched his stomach. She passed through the doorway into a hall leading to some banquet rooms the hotel used from time to time. She saw the sign for the kitchen at the end of the hall and ran towards it.
 
                Now that creature had followed her. She whispered a prayer that it wouldn’t come in the kitchen where she was hiding, but she saw its tentacles slide across the floor and push against the double swinging door.
                With a push the door swung open and the creature probed the dark room with its tentacles. A nauseating smell reached Hannah as she tried not to freak out. She glances behind her looking for a way out. She carefully backed around the counter looking over her shoulder as the tentacles grew closer and closer to her, probing for its prey.
                Her feet struck something solid and she turned to find a counter behind her. Hanging on the edge was a magnetic strip with knives. She grabbed the biggest one she could find. Her eyes darted along the wall and she saw the exit sign above a side door. She started to make her way along the tiled floor.           
                She nearly jumped out of her skin when the tentacles of the monster struck the cart she had his behind earlier, sending it into the wall. She had to consciously keep herself from screaming. As she approached the door she saw through the center island the creature in the isle next to hers. Its beak snapping at air as its ten foot tentacles grasped anything it could. It knew she was in here somewhere.
                It turned its eyeless face in her direction and screeched, sending a shower of black sickly liquid onto her. A feeling of dread overcame her and she tried to move but it was like she was glued to the floor. She fought the feeling, the lethargy settling in her bones like sand filling an hour glass. The longer she was there the harder it was getting.
                A tentacle came over the countertop, sending pots skittering on the floor near her feet and this time a small yelp escaped her lips. The creature turned in her direction and stepped onto the counter with surprising agility. All four tentacles were now probing this side of the center island.
                With a surge of self-preservation Hannah managed to get her muscles into motion. She darted for the side door with the exit sign. She heard the wet slap as the monster landed on the floor where she had been only seconds ago.
                She yanked hard on the doorknob of the wooden side door. It pulled open and she sighed in relief as she jumped through the opening, but she couldn’t get all the way through. Something had her leg. She looked down in horror as the tentacle wrapped around her slim ankle. She pulled as hard as she could, getting leverage from the door jamb with her other foot.
                The tentacle’s suckers undulated, almost snake like and started to work their way up her calf muscle. She saw another tentacle in the doorway seeking her flesh. A small barb rose from the translucent skin of the tentacle slowly, dripping with a green viscous fluid.
                Hannah kicked wildly in panic and broke free from the suckers that left small bruises on her leg. She turned and scrambled into the small service hall and ran right into a man. They both tumbled to the floor.
                “We got to go,” she yelled as she heard the screech from the kitchen.
                “Come now, relax. You’re ok,” the man said helping her to her feet. He was strong. He wore a black suit with an aquamarine button down shirt. His black hair was slicked back to just about shoulder length. His bright green eyes entrapped her for a second. IN that second the monster went away, all pain went away the world only consisted of this man.
                “Now tell me, what is all the fuss about,” he asked stroking her hair. She practically melted from his touch. This man was her world now.
                “The monster!” she said, suddenly remembering and turning in his arms. The creature stood ten feet from them, its tentacles flailing, but not approaching any closer.
                “The spawn of Cetus will not harm you,” the man said and Hannah felt her worried fade. No harm will come to you, if you play along.”
                “Play along?” she said.
                “I have come here to find a bride. I am sorry if The Spawn of Cetus frightened you. He can be a little…overzealous in his wishes to please me,” the man said.
                “That…thing works for you?” she said.
                “In a sense, yes,” he relied.
                Revulsion took ahold of Hannah and she tried to push away from the man, but his strong arms held her tight. She remembered the knife in her hand and thought about plunging it into the man’s ribs. Would that do the trick? She wondered.
                “What say you? Would you like to go home with me and be my queen?” the man asked and held her out at arm’s length, looking into her eyes.
                “I have a choice?” she asked.
                “Oh course you do,” he said with a laugh. “Free will is very important.”
                “Look, I just met you, don’t you think we should have a date first maybe, see if we have any common interests,” Hannah said looking for an escape route.
                “You would deny me?” he asked raising an eyebrow.
                “Well you would have to at least meet my parents first,” she quipped and gave him half a smile. She saw the rage start to consume his face
                “You jest at Pontus?” the man said. “This is a onetime offer. Take it seriously,” he said angrily. The Creature took a step towards her, screeching.
                “Let me go,” she said.
                “You refuse your better? This is why your world is doomed, mortal,” he said shaking his head, but he still didn’t let go. “Maybe you think yourself above the queen of the sea? Maybe I should teach you a lesson in humility,” he said and nodded towards the creature who began to move forward, its tentacles grasping Hannah’s ankles. With a quick tug it pulled her from her feet and she hit her head on the floor of the hallway, passing out.
                When she awoke she was in a dark place, like a basement or cave, the stone wall didn’t look like brick but carved. She was laying on a slab of stone, held down by two of the Spawn of Cetus’s tentacles, the other two were still wrapped around her ankles. Shadows danced on the low stone ceiling as she realized the light was reflected from moving water nearby. The smell of salt assaulted her nostrils.
                “Good, you are awake. Much like the land animal the horse I hear about, maybe your spirit needs to be broken,” Pontus said and raised his arm to the creature and nodded. He stepped back into the shadow behind her until she couldn’t see him anymore.
                The tentacles of the creature wrapped around her calf muscles and worked their way around, rising up her legs. She screamed and struggled against the bonds that held her, but they were solid.
Ep.29 – The Dinner Guests - Ruthless Killers for Supper! - Weekly Spooky: Scary Stories and Horror Fun Every Week!

Ep.29 – The Dinner Guests - Ruthless Killers for Supper!

Released on 05/13/2020

Episode Notes
Two cold blooded killers are about to crash a dinner party, but the main course may be far more upsetting than anything they've cooked up.
The Dinner Guests by Shane Migliavacca
Music by Ray Mattis
http://raymattispresents.bandcamp.com
Produced by Daniel Wilder
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Contact Us/Submit a Story
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This episode sponsored by HenFlix.com
For everything else visit WeeklySpooky.com
Transcription:
Orville Trench admired his reflection in the car window. He missed his long black ponytail and beard. His hair was cut short now. 
He ran a hand over his smooth chin. He’d had that beard so long, it was like cutting off a limb… but it had to go. It was time to get a new car too. The old one would be drawing too much attention soon.
Cherry Kowalski, the love of his life, appeared in the reflection. Her eyes were large, piecing and dark… dark to match her long, wild black hair, streaked with purple and green, that hung to her shoulders. 
She twirled one of long strands of hair around her index finger. Hanging around her neck was a simple silver necklace, a small plastic baby arm dangled from it. 
“You look good.” She said.
“I didn’t ask.” 
“Fuck you.” She laughed loudly, giving her lover double middle fingers. 
Orville spun around, grabbing her by the shoulders. His eyes narrowed. “Oh yes. Yes indeed.”
He scanned the parking lot of the convenience store. There where only three cars here: an old pickup truck, a rusting black Camaro and an fairly new SUV. Not much to pick from. 
Shouldn’t be that many people inside. He looked up at the sign over the door. It read: QUICK SAVE MART. It would be quick all right. He couldn’t wait to get out of East Fuck wit New York. 
     
Orville touched the cold steel under his leather jacket. A Colt Trooper Mk III, like the sheriff carried in Walking Tall… the 70’s one. He loved that film, not that shit remake with the Nancy boy wrestler. It hung from a shoulder holster under his jacket. A flaming devil face was emblazoned across the jacket’s back.   
Just as he expected, the door had a little bell that chimed when it opened.
He sized up the store. Orville liked to think of himself as a hunter, though what he hunted you didn’t buy a license for. 
The store was typical; five aisles of various overpriced crap, cold drinks in the back and some not so fresh looking coffee. The kid behind the counter, who couldn’t be older then twenty, didn’t even look up from his cell phone when they entered. He was dressed to the nines in Eminem castoffs. Another white boy wannabe… he’d be easy enough. 
Picking through the beer was a bear of a man. Dirty coveralls, baseball cap and a long graying beard… had to be the pickup driver. This one could be trouble. He’d be the first.
The last customer was a young woman; mid-twenties. Two in the afternoon and she’s wearing fucking pajamas. Orville shakes his head. Two bad for her, she wasn’t his type. 
“Anything look good to you hon?” He asks Cherry.
“Slim pickings.” 
The big man came up to the counter, carrying two six packs. He sets them on the counter. It took a couple seconds before the kid looked up from his phone.
“That all Mr. Scott?” The kid asked.
“For now. You know that damned phone gonna turn you into a zombie Jimmy. All you kids just stare at ‘em all the time. Sucking your minds out.”
“Not just kids doing it. Seen plenty of adults too.”
Scott opens his wallet. “Goddamn right about that. The wife is always doing that Facebook shit. Why you think I got these for tonight?”
The two laugh. 
Cherry makes a mock vomiting face to Orville. Orville mouths “Which one?”
Cherry nods towards large Mr. Scott.
“Gonna start off Friday night right.” Scott says. 
Cherry slides up next to him. She leans against the counter, showing Jimmy her cleavage. His eyes go right to it.
“How’s about speeding up all the talky talky?” She says.
“Excuse me young lady.” Scott says. “No need to be fucking rude.” 
Orville stood next to the coffee pot watching Cherry do her thing. He poured himself a cup, dropping in a ton of creamer and sugar. He gulping down the cup in one go.
“I just want to make a purchase and go, not listen to your fucking life story.” She says noticing she’s not even holding anything. Cherry quickly grabs a handful of Slim Jims. “These delicious treats. Yum Yum.”
Scott shakes his head and turns back to Jimmy. “What do I owe you?”
Orville lets his eye flicker over to the female shopper. She’d selected some chips and now stood in front of the soda cooler... oblivious to the fun up front. 
Scott payed Jimmy and turned to leave, picking up his beer. Cherry blocked his way.
“Excuse me miss.”
“No. No. You don’t get to leave until you apologize.” Cherry stomped her booted foot hard on the floor.
“Just get out of my way crazy bitch.” He tried to push past her. 
Angry, Cherry clawed him in the face, opening red trenches on the left side of his face.
“Bitch!” Scott dropped both of his six packs to the floor with a crash. Some of the cans exploded in a foamy blast. 
He made an unsuccessful grab at Cherry.
“Too slow!” She laughed.
Scott lunged at Cherry only to come face to face with Orville’s Colt Trooper. Orville smiled a wicked smile as he pulled the hammer back.
“Hands off my girl.”
He pulled the trigger sending Scott’s brains all over the newspaper rack. Scott fell to the ground, twitching. Lying on his back Orville fired a couple more shots into the dying man’s chest.
He saw Jimmy behind the counter, his face slack with dull horror.
Orville pointed the Colt at him. “Stay planted right there zit boy. You move. You die.”
The boy nodded.  
“Shit Ory, he was mine!” Cherry pouts. 
“And you took too long.” 
The female shopper screamed at the top of her lungs and bolted.
Orville sighs. “Get her.”
Cherry let out a bloodcurdling scream and pursued her prey.
Cherry grabbed cans from one of the shelves and hurled them at the woman.
“Where you going baby?” 
A can hit one of the glass coolers, cracking it. Another one hit the woman’s leg. She fell against a display of dog biscuits, knocking it over in a loud crash. 
Cherry picked up a loaf of bread and beat the woman with it. 
“Give up?” She laughed, pulling the woman up by the hair. 
Orville watches the sad spectacle laughing. Out of the corner of his eye, Jimmy inched towards his phone on the back counter. 
  
“Don’t even think about it white chocolate.”
Cherry marched the pajama clad shopper up to the counter. Upon seeing Scott lying on the ground in a pool of blood, the captive started to sob.
“Oh god…don’t hurt me.”
Orville looked at the woman. “Don’t worry, nobody’s getting hurt as long as you give us a little ride.”
A glint of metal caught his eye. Too late he saw Jimmy aiming a cheap pistol at him. The nervous boys squeezed the trigger, trying to fire one handed. The pistol fired wild; the bullet whizzed past Orville and hit the female shopper in the throat.
Orville took aim with the Colt and blasted Jimmy between the eyes. The boy slumped dead against a display of Lotto tickets.
“Damn.” Orville says. “That was something.”
Orville looked over the side of the counter at Jimmy; what brains he had leaking out of the wound above his eyes. Orville shot him again.
 
“You get to have all the fun.” Cherry pouts.
He holstered the Colt. “Get some supplies for the road.” 
Orville walked over to the body of the woman, he crouched down and turned her on her back. She stared up at him with lifeless eyes. He rummaged through her pajama pockets, and pulled out a pair of keys. 
He was about to stand when a bell dinged as a car pulled up to one of the pumps. He looked back at Cherry filling up a plastic bag with some groceries.
 
“Get down.” He hissed. “We’ve got company.”
Orville peeked around an endcap of beef-jerky. It was hard to make out the car or the driver since they were on the other side of the gas pumps, but he thought he got a glimpse of long blonde hair.
All the while Orville kept his eyes on the new arrival. They stepped from behind the pump… he was right! It was a girl, about eighteen… long blonde hair, longer legs.  Instantly Orville felt his crotch come alive. Goddamn he wanted to fuck her on the spot!
This called for a change of plans. He’d planned on taking the woman in pajamas hostage… having her drive them somewhere secluded and lie low… but White Chocolate got trigger happy and fucked that up. So, he’d settled for just taking her car and some supplies and hightailing it. 
But now Blondie had dropped into their laps, and if he was lucky, she’d be riding it later tonight. After he was done Cherry could have a go, she’d like that. Orville licked his lips at the thought.
From behind the counter another urgent beep as the blonde pressed a button on the pump. Finally giving up, she walked frustrated towards the store.
 
“Here we go.” Orville whispered. 
The blonde pulled the door open, making the bell chime as she unknowingly stepped into hell.
“Jimmy, you awake in here?” She asked, a second before seeing the blood. “Jimmy?” 
“Nope.” Orville stood, the Colt pointed at her. “Jimmy’s on break.”
“Blood.” The girls said, biting her lip. “Did you…”
“Sure did!” Cherry said, as she walked towards them carrying an overstuffed bag of groceries. “How sweet! Fresh meat!” 
“She’s also going to be our ride out of here, ain’t you baby?” 
The girl looked down at the bodies then up at Orville and Cherry, dumbstruck. 
“Right?” Orville said, a bit annoyed. He took the blonde’s chin with his hand and forced the girl to nod in agreement. “Right.”
He took his hand away, leaving bloody finger prints. 
“Who are you?” The girl asked, her voice quivering. 
“I’m a demon.” Orville answered. “Straight from hell. I eat up little girls like you.”
“You’re gonna kill me.”
“Depends. What’s your name sweetness?”
“Lauren. Lauren Dohler.”
Orville looked Lauren over. “Well Lauren, where were
Ep.28 – AIDS Mary - Urban Legend of Vengeance! - Weekly Spooky: Scary Stories and Horror Fun Every Week!

Ep.28 – AIDS Mary - Urban Legend of Vengeance!

Released on 05/06/2020

Episode Notes
After a heinous crime is committed against two young women they begin exercising bloody vengeance in horrific ways. Based on the urban legend of the same name!
AIDs Mary by Rob Fields
Read more about the legend at: https://www.snopes.com/fact-check/aids-mary/
Music by Ray Mattis
http://raymattispresents.bandcamp.com
Produced by Daniel Wilder
Get Cool Merchandise http://store.weeklyspooky
Support us on Patreon http://patreon.com/IncrediblyHandsome
Contact Us/Submit a Story
twitter.com/WeeklySpooky
facebook.com/WeeklySpooky
[email protected]
This episode sponsored by HenFlix.com
For everything else visit WeeklySpooky.com
Transcript:
Raymond Burr reached his girlfriend’s off-campus apartment. He looked at the tenant listings and pressed the buzzer button next to M. Wright. Moments later, he was buzzed in. 
He went down the hall to the corresponding apartment and knocked on the door. It opened shortly after. 
Raymond’s girlfriend stood there, dressed in an oversized T-shirt. 
“Anne, hi,” Raymond said. 
“Hey.” She stepped aside to let him in. 
Raymond kissed Anne on the lips. Then it turned into a more passionate kiss. Anne began to moan a little. When Raymond felt her hands in his hair, he moved a hand to grope one of her breasts. 
Suddenly, Anne gasped.
“Raymond, stop!” she commanded. 
When he wouldn’t relent, she grabbed his hair. “Get off me, goddamn it!”
When he realized that she was serious, he obeyed. 
She glared at him. “Is this all you want from me when we’re together? Is that all we are to you and your fucking fraternity brothers – sex toys?”
He groaned in frustration. “Jesus, Anne, what the fuck? You join a convent or something? It used to be you wanting to fuck all the time. Now you’re all holier-than-thou.” He groaned again. “You’ve been like this for weeks. I’m trying to be patient, but I’m at my end. You wanna break up?”
Anne started crying. “I’m sorry, Raymond. I just don’t think I can be sexual with you anymore.” She looked at him sharply. “Do you love me? Tell me the truth.”
He took a deep breath. “You know I love you. I do. But you gotta tell me what’s wrong.”
A long silence. “I’m late.”
“Late? What do you mean?”
Her glare was stronger. “I’m late! As in . . . I missed my period. As in I got pregnant.”
His eyes grew wide. “You’re . . . pregnant?”
She went to the bathroom and returned with three sticks in her hand: 2 white and 1 pink. “I got pregnant – three different tests.”
He took the sticks from her, all showing plus signs. Then he looked back at her. “You’re sure?”
She glared at him again. “You want me to take another test? You want to fuck me again, just to make sure they’re right?”
He threw the sticks down and grabbed her shoulders. “That’s enough!” When he saw her fear, he quickly released her. “Let’s talk.”
“What’s there to say?” she whispered. 
A long pause. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Raymond asked.
She groaned. “I didn’t want a baby!” She wiped away tears, then pointed to the door. “Get the fuck out!” 
Without another word, she stormed into the bathroom and slammed the door. The lock clicked soon after . . .  
Raymond returned to his dorm. He wanted to comfort Anne, but he didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t bear to hear Anne sobbing behind her bathroom door. 
Suddenly, his smartphone rang. He answered it. “What?!”
“Turn on the news, man! Do it now!”
“Marcus, I don’t have time for this.”
“Mary’s here! She’s on our campus! Jeff’s dead!”
Raymond quickly reached for the TV remote. He turned the news on and recognized the building where the news cameras were. It was the Delta Omega Kappa fraternity house on the other side of Strickfield University. 
As the reporter talked about the incident, the camera switched to a bedroom inside the house. 
“Did you see it – on the mirror? It was in Carl’s room, too!” 
The camera stopped on the mirror and zoomed in. 
Raymond remembered hearing about this same message two days ago. The message was written in red lipstick. The words in the message were identical:
WELCOME TO
MY WORLD
OF AIDS!
“You still there, dude?”
Raymond found his voice. “I’ll be right over.”
Raymond met up with Marcus in front of the DOK house. Just seeing his look of horror sent a shiver down his spine. 
Marcus grabbed his arm. “The rest of us are over at Masterson Hall.”
The two fraternity brothers walked to the other side of campus. When they entered the building, Raymond saw that there were only two others there. When they stopped, Raymond turned to Marcus. 
“You said the rest of us were here.”
“This is the rest of us, Raymond. Carl was on the news two days ago. The cops found his body at the Lemley Hotel off the main highway. The gun was in his hand and rest of his head all over the fucking walls. 
Carl saw Mary’s message on the mirror and he blew his head off – AIDS Mary.”
Raymond wanted to laugh. “AIDS Mary?!” Then he regarded all of them. “How do you people know her fucking name? There something you wanna tell me?”
“You should be afraid, too,” James Clarke stammered. “She’ll come for you, too.”
“She’ll come for all of us,” Marv Vernon added. “Ain’t no coincidence she got Carl, then Jeff.” 
He stood up. “That fucking bitch has AIDS, and now she wants to give it to us. We know what she looks like, but she still got Carl and Jeff to fuck her anyway.”
Raymond raised his hand. “How do you know she screwed them? Were you there?”
“Their bodies were found – naked,” Marcus said. “Didn’t you watch the report on Carl? Why would she put that fucking message on the mirrors? She definitely fucked them both.”
Raymond was frustrated. “Assholes, you need to talk to me! Why is this AIDS Mary after everybody in our fraternity?”
A brief silence . . . Then one of them said, “We raped her!”
Raymond’s heart dropped into his stomach. “What?!”
“I said, we raped her!”
“That’s what I thought you said.” Raymond took a deep breath. “Okay . . . Tell me more.”
Marcus sat down with the others. “Earlier this semester, while you were taking a make-up exam, we went out looking for girls. We found this high school chick in a bar – drunk as shit. We brought her back to the house. We felt playful and started touching her. When she backed off, we grabbed her and took her down to the floor. She wasn’t as drunk as we thought since she tried fighting us off.”
Raymond groaned. “Un_fucking_believable!”
“Except it wasn’t just her. It was them – as in it wasn’t just Mary.”
Raymond’s jaw dropped. “Jesus Christ, how many girls did you rape that night?! Three?! Five?! A hundred?!”
“Two,” Marv replied. “Just two.”
Raymond faked a smile. “Okay, you raped two girls. Where’d you get the other one?”
“A girl saw us through a window. She ran, but we caught her and –”
“I can’t believe this shit!” Raymond roared in anger. “So . . . another girl saw you . . . was gonna blow the whistle and – ! What happened after you finished with them?!” 
“We took Mary back to her high school and left here there. The other girl ran off. We were all still drunk, so we don’t really remember what she looked like.”
Raymond waved his hand frantically. “Okay, how do you know it’s this AIDS Mary? How do you know it’s not the other girl?”
Marcus handed Raymond he had been holding. “Open it.”
Raymond opened the envelope and removed the paper. It was the results of a hospital AIDS test, which was positive. The recipient was Mary Richter.
Raymond gave the items back. “Okay . . . But what I really wanna know . . . ? Which one of you motherfuckers gave it to her?”
The guys looked at each other in bewilderment. 
Raymond laughed scornfully. “Are you fucking serious?!” 
He calmed down. “You shitheels raped two girls. You have a hospital report saying one of them’s got full-blown AIDS. It never occurred to you that one of you has it?”
No replies. 
Raymond sighed. “Okay, I’ll add something. You dumbasses probably all have it now. You all took turns with Mary, right?” When the others looked at each other in horror, he knew he had them. “You gotta get your sorry asses to a hospital – stat! If you all have AIDS, you know why.” 
Raymond raised his finger. “Then . . . ! Turn yourselves in to the police and confess to everything. AIDS Mary’s still out there, right? She knows you shitheads – what you did to her. You’ll all be lipstick on mirrors eventually. Me? I’m leaving. I got problems of my own. And I’m done with this fucking fraternity. AIDS Mary ain’t coming for me since I wasn’t in on the rape. Have a nice life, gentlemen.”
Without another word, Raymond left Masterson Hall and walked back to his dorm. 
A week later, Raymond was in his room, still trying to talk to Anne. This time it was on video chat. Clearly, she was still down about her pregnancy. Not wanting to talk any further, she disconnected on him. 
He decided to turn on the news. 
He nearly dropped the remote when he saw the top story. Like the other DOK brothers, James had been found in his room – wrists slit. A familiar message was written on the full-length mirror in lipstick:
WELCOME TO
MY WORLD
OF AIDS!
Raymond turned off the TV and raced to see if the other frat brothers were still alive. 
When he reached the fraternity house, he ran inside and shouted for them. 
No reply! 
He raced upstairs. When he reached Marv’s room, he looked in. The room was empty. 
He moved to Marcus’s room. Empty! Now he was worried. From past experiences, he knew there was always a frat brother at the house. 
Raymond moved throughout the rest of the house. As he was about to leave, he remembered the basement and headed to that door. 
Upon reaching it, he opened the door and flipped the light switch. Nothing!
He turned and headed to the kitchen. He flipped the switches there. Nothing! He went to a drawer and pulled out a knife.
He returned to the basement and descended slowly. 
Once off the bottom step, he looked around uneasily. He saw the back room and walked quietly towards it. 
He peeked in and saw that Marcus was tied to the bed – in just his boxers. When Marcus saw him, his eyes widened and he made

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