(This is inspired by an animation I saw)

First our dog, Max, went missing

He was the there in the evening,

but the next morning he was not

We aren't completely sure where he went

There's been talk in the town of a creature

One who stalks the woods at night

No one has completely seen it

But they say it becomes parts of what it takes

My sister went missing

She was here yesterday evening

this morning she was not

She had said she wanted to look for Max

Of course I miss her

but I don't want to see her again

Because I'm worried that it won't really be her

That it will be it instead

I'm worried it will have her arms instead of deer legs,

her hands instead of hooves

I'm worried it will have her green eyes,

instead of normal dark deer eyes

I'm don't want to see her again

I'm scared that I will

I'm scared that it will be

The deer instead

Okay

I don't quite know what's going on, not really.

I'm being dragged through a dizzying carousel of people and walls and things, so many things, that I can barely even focus on.

Strong hands are wrapped around my wrist, pulling me forward harshly. Warm hands that feel cold.

I'm don't quite know what's going on and I'm thankful for it.

I'm scared but I feel too dizzy, too weak-willed to act upon the fear.

I feel hesitant but the hand pulling me hushes the errant thoughts inside me. Silences the voice wanting me to run away.

Until I meet a pair of eyes I can't look away from. Aching with hunger. Big and young and anguished. I stop in my tracks. Almost fall over. So young. So hungry.

I turn to the child. Look at him. He looks at me. My mind is coming back into focus now. Suddenly a broad figure steps between me and the child.

The child. I can't see him anymore. I look at the figure in front of me. Oh. It's him. The one who was holding my wrist. He arrests me in his gaze. I'm dizzy again.

He hands me a handful of pills, like a child offering candy to their friend. I tip them into my mouth, dry-swallowing them. It hurts and I almost choke but I need to quell the budding desire in my heart to just start screaming. I need to stop feeling so ... so flighty. I need to make my mind able to walk where my wrist is being pulled to. The pills crawl into my aching, empty stomach. And suddenly the world is blurrier and dizzier than it's ever been and I can barely keep standing.

"Walk," he says, his sweet candy voice having cold icy undertones. I walk. I walk and I keep walking and I walk and I walk and I walk.

A door. A pretty familiar one. Mahogany. Ivory-trimmed. Rich. I'm scared of it. I don't know why. The brass lock clicks open and I'm pulled into the densely-carpeted mass. White walls. Paintings. Paintings. Paintings. Gold. Terror. Inside me. But my mind and body are too weak to do anything about it. Which is perfect. If I can swallow this terror I won't have to face THAT terror.

I need to .... I don't know.

The world keeps spinning and I cling to the hope that tomorrow I'll forget that tonight even happened. I freeze, guiltily, and push that thought away.

I force myself up the stairs.

———

Black nothingness melts into gold and white. Carved figures. The agony of bright sunlight. Headache. An overwhelming, sick feeling permeating through my soul. Nothing. I feel like nothing. But I always did.

I tumble out of bed and make my way to the bathroom. I throw up. It physically feels like my stomach is being pulled apart. It was empty to begin with and it's emptier now, somehow. I don't care. Hunger just means that my collar bones will get more prominent, my arms more delicate, my waist more thin.

I make my way back into the spacious bedroom, onto the plush silk sheets. I shiver a bit, and consider just leaving out the door. That thought makes me shiver more. My slow feet drag me back to the four-poster prison and I drape myself over it. No, not prison. This is a place of hope, a place of opportunity.

"Hey. Someone's up." His voice is always sweet but with a sharp, menacing edge. If you brushed against it it was so unbearably soft. But if you leaned into it, it would cut you.

"Yeah. Someone is up. What's it to ya?" I'm tired, my voice the tiniest bit cracked.

"Get in the car. We're going to breakfast. And then we're flying to Dubai. It would be such a lavish place to spend the weekend."

No no no I don't want this I'm too tired I want to curl up with my sister in in a dark room that's a bit too warm and just a touch smokey. I want soft words and slow caresses and being able to sleep soundly.

Wait. What am I thinking? It will be fun. It will be good. He has so much to show me. So many places to fu... oh God. My legs move of their own accord, towards the door, towards the morning outside and towards the sweepings of the streets.

The children, the beggars, the people desperately selling trinkets, the people waiting at the bus stop on their way to factories like cattle coalescing outside the slaughterhouse. It wasn't fair, wasn't fair, wasn't fair the way the world was. It wasn't fair that some people were born into wealth and health and others were born into death. But the world was human and free. I could disappear into that.

"Oh are you leaving?" He said it so innocently yet I didn't miss the subtle fingers of a threat in his words. I'm snapped back into reality. No I'm not leaving. Of course I'm not leaving.

Just to to be sure my mind doesn't fucking betray me again I gulp down a pill that helps with anxiety. I feel numb now. Like I'm in water, like I'm looking at the world from inside an aquarium. I feel slightly nauseous. I eat more pills than food. It's worth it though.

"I'll get ready. Get my hair just how I want it, find nice clothes, all that." Be gorgeous for him.

"You do that. You always look so pretty for me." That statement makes me want to die. But no. Of course I'm pretty for him. The least I can be is his.

So I force a smile.

“I didn’t know someone lived here…My apologies.”

“You're drenched. You should come in and dry yourself and maybe rest a bit.”

“N-No…I'd better excuse myself.”

“You can stay the night. That's why you came here in the first place, didn’t you? I live alone, you see…I can totally use some company.”

Hesitatingly, he stepped in. An ice-cold hand grabbed his hand drenched with rainwater.

“It’s dark, so let me lead the way.”

“Why is it so dark?”

“You see, I'm blind. I don’t need light.”

“Does that mean…there is no light in this house at all?”

“No.”

“That's…scary…Maybe I should just go…”

“Stay the night. I'll keep you company so you won't get scared.”

But you are kinda scary yourself, he swallowed those words, not wanting to offend his host.

“Would you like a change of clothes? I wish I could make you a cup of tea to warm you up, but I am incapable of it.”

“Thanks, but I'll only stay until the rain stops. I don’t want to trouble you.”

“Why do you keep insist on leaving? Am I that scary?”

“You might be comfortable living in darkness, but I am not…”

“Are you sure this darkness and my presence is scarier than the world you live in?”

He was stunned.

“H-how do you know?”

“Just a wild guess. Why else would you run to a desolate house in the middle of nowhere in this pouring rain?”

“I-I could've got lost and taken shelter here temporarily! Why are you jumping into conclusion by yourself?”

“Is that the case…My apologies for overthinking, then…”

“But you know what, you're right. Actually…I ran away from home.”

“So I was right.” I actually saw your memories while we were holding hands.

“I have a proposal for you. It’s entirely up to you whether you accept it or not…It's just that I want to help you.”

“What is it?”

“Would you like to stay here with me?”

“W-What?”

“I mean it. Would you like to?”

“We don’t even know each other…”

“Like I told you before…I’d love some company in this darkness. It’s been so many years of being alone, I’ve lost count…”

“Years…?” But why do you sound like someone of my age?

“If you haven’t realized yet…I’m…a…what you call…ghost.”

“EHHHH?!”

He screamed and jumped away from the stranger.

“My apologies if I have startled you.”

“I-I'm leaving…”

“Are you sure about that?”

“I…can’t possibly live in this house with an unknown-years-old ghost in pitch darkness…”

“So…you're going to leave me too,” the stranger mumbled.

“On top of my blindness, I have another condition that doesn’t allow my skin to withstand sunshine.”

“Is that because you're a ghost? Are you…a bloodsucking vampire? Is that why you invited me in, so that you can suck my blood?”

“No,” the stranger chuckled, “I have had that condition since birth. You see, that condition is why I was made to live in this desolate place, away from other humans…”

“That's sad.”

“They called me moonchild because of my condition. They feared me. Like you, many of them thought that I was a vampire. So my family built this house out of nowhere and left me here…”

“Left you?”

“Originally, they took turns staying with me here. That continued until I was eighteen. They were growing tired of it, I guess. So one day they came to this mutual agreement to abandon me.”

“Abandon…?”

“Yes. I couldn’t go outside since I didn’t know the roads and I could've been in an accident…I stayed here and waited…waited…waited…I called but no one answered, I was starving and there was nothing to eat at home…At one point I was desperate enough to attempt to go out but the door was locked from outside…I got so weak that I couldn’t break the door, so I lay there on the floor…in and out of my consciousness…until one day I fell into a long, deep sleep. When I came to, I felt better but my heart wasn’t beating anymore…”

“Stop…I can't listen to it anymore…”

“Sorry. It wasn’t a pleasant story…I knew it but I still rambled on…”

“You…really went through a lot…”

“This is my first time telling this story to anyone. I never had anyone to share this story with….”

“Poor you.”

He had given up on life long ago. The family who adopted him didn’t care enough worry about his disappearance. He had no dream or goal to live for. Being with this unnatural presence in darkness seemed much better to face the shitty world outside. Darkness was scary, but outside world was scarier.

If he could make this stranger happy by keeping him company, why not?

“It'll hurt a bit. I'm really sorry about that,” he felt a cold arm wrapping around his neck in that pitch-black darkness. He closed his eyes and surrendered, but his body wouldn’t. It struggled and fought to keep him alive, to pull him back to the world of living until the very end. Until he became one with the darkness.

“Are you there?”

“I'm here.”

“Welcome to my world. From now on, we'll never be alone, we'll never be in pain. We'll be together, always.”

Inspired by the universe of BioShock, where a haunting underwater city once promised utopia but quickly decayed into chaos and horror.

Chapter 1: Into the Depths

Jack stepped out of the rusty bathysphere, his eyes adjusting to the dim glow of Rapture's sprawling skyline. Once, this city beneath the sea was a glittering paradise. Now, it was shrouded in eerie silence, with only the creaks of strained metal and the distant drip of leaking pipes echoing through the shadows. Jack’s flashlight flickered, illuminating streaks of red on the floor—a reminder that he wasn’t alone.

Chapter 2: The Ghosts of Rapture

Moving cautiously, Jack heard whispers from the shadows. The crazed splicers, once ordinary people of Rapture, now scuttled in the darkness. Their bodies were twisted from overuse of ADAM, a genetic serum that granted powers but eroded minds. One of them stumbled into view, a gaunt woman with cracked skin and empty eyes, mumbling to herself about “the good old days.” She barely noticed Jack as she clawed at a broken vending machine, desperate for another fix.

Chapter 3: A Deal with the Devil

Descending further, Jack encountered Dr. Steinman’s old clinic—a blood-splattered operating table stood at the center, surrounded by jagged surgical tools. Suddenly, the doctor himself appeared, a monstrous figure, his face warped and stitched, muttering endlessly about “perfecting beauty.” Jack froze as Steinman, lost in his delusions, raised a scalpel with frenzied delight, his eyes wild and unseeing. Jack backed away, realizing he was a heartbeat away from becoming Steinman’s latest "masterpiece."

Chapter 4: Meeting the Little Sister

At the end of a long corridor, Jack found a Little Sister—a pale, doll-like child with a syringe almost as large as she was. Her haunting yellow eyes glinted as she stared at him, cradling her “Big Daddy,” a towering creature in a massive diving suit, who growled protectively. Jack had a choice: save the girl from her twisted fate, or harvest the ADAM she carried to survive.

Chapter 5: The Choice

As Jack raised his hand to the Little Sister, he heard echoes of Atlas’s words from the radio: “Would you kindly?” The phrase rang in his mind, compelling him to obey. Jack clenched his fists, fighting to break free from the invisible chains binding him. He had to decide who he would become in this city of horrors—a savior, or another monster drawn into Rapture’s descent.

Chapter 1: Transformation

Ethan Bradshaw blinked slowly, the world around him slipping in and out of focus like a bad dream. He was in the bullpen, his own desk a mess of papers and coffee stains. Strangely enough, blood stains. He felt a nagging emptiness inside—a heavy, unnatural ache that pulsed in his chest. He tried to remember why he was there, why he felt so… wrong. The familiar clutter of the Raccoon City Police Department was around him, yet it all felt foreign, like a place he was only half-allowed to understand now. The office was dull, and dim. And why was that? He thought.

A sudden, sharp memory cut through the fog: Leon. Today was supposed to be his first day on the force. The rookie, eager and green, full of the kind of wide-eyed optimism that didn’t belong in a place like Raccoon City. Ethan felt a tug in his mind, something fragile and flickering. He’d promised himself he’d look out for the kid, show him around, get him settled in. Teach him the theoretical ropes.

As he tried to hold onto the thought, the hunger surged again, sharper this time, clawing its way up from the depths of his body. He staggered, gripping the edge of a desk, his fingers clamping down with unnatural force, nails scraping against the polished wood. Noticing once again the pool of blood on his desk. Again, where had it come from. He opened his mouth to speak, to call out for help, but only a low, guttural moan escaped his lips. His neck was in horrible pain, he hand unsteadily reached up to navigate the source of the ache. His fingers touched ripped flesh and a gaping hole.

Stumbling back he crashed into a desk and turned, the crisp new name plate sitting front and center. Leon S. Kennedy.

Leon, he thought, struggling to remember why it mattered. His head throbbed, and he felt his own name slipping away, his sense of self blurring. But then, as if in response to his silent plea, he heard the faint creak of a door down the hall.

Chapter 2: Loss of Voice

Ethan’s head snapped up, his vision settling on the armory door across the room. He heard footsteps—quick, purposeful. A shadow moved, and then Leon himself came into view, silhouetted against the dim light of the hallway. The rookie’s face was set, focused, unaware of Ethan watching him from across the bullpen.

The sight of Leon sparked something within Ethan, a surge of recognition, a shred of who he used to be. He stumbled forward, his arm lifting instinctively, his mouth struggling to form words. Leon, he wanted to say. It’s me, Ethan. Help me. But his throat only managed a low, raspy sound, barely more than a growl.

Leon’s head jerked up, his eyes locking onto Ethan’s. For a moment, Ethan saw confusion flash across Leon’s face, maybe even a faint glimmer of hope. But then he saw Leon’s expression shift, hardening into a mask of grim realization. Leon took a step back, his hand instinctively going to the handgun on his belt. Ethan saw him hesitate, the rookie’s face tense with an unspoken question: Is there anything left of him?

Ethan tried to raise a hand, to reach out and show Leon that he was still here, still himself. But his arm jerked forward in a lurching, unnatural motion, his fingers curling into claws. His mind screamed in protest, but his body had become something else, driven by an urge he couldn’t control. The hunger twisted inside him, filling him with a need he barely understood. He could feel his humanity slipping, drowned beneath that primal drive.

He took another step toward Leon, his feet dragging, his mouth stretching open in a grotesque attempt at speech. “Le-on,” he rasped, the sound mangled, as if someone else had spoken it for him.

Chapter 3: Unhappy Trigger Finger

Leon’s face tightened, his jaw set. Ethan saw the rookie’s hand steady as he raised his weapon, the barrel pointed directly at him. Kid’s got guts, Ethan thought, feeling a pang of something like pride—or maybe it was a memory of that pride, fading fast. He wanted to tell Leon to run, to get as far from this cursed place as he could, but his body betrayed him, moving forward in jerking, halting steps.

Ethan tried to pull back, to stop himself, but the hunger surged forward, seizing control of his limbs. His own hands reached out toward Leon, his mouth open, teeth bared in a snarl that wasn’t his own. He fought against it, struggling to pull back the shadows that now filled his mind, but his body ignored him. He was no longer in command, his instincts twisted, redirected, making him something he had once sworn to fight.

Leon hesitated for only a heartbeat, his face resolute but tinged with sorrow. Ethan could see the conflict in his eyes, the recognition of a man he had barely known but respected. And then, with a steadying breath, Leon squeezed the trigger.

The gunshot echoed through the bullpen, sharp and final. Ethan felt a burst of pain in his chest, and for an instant, everything was clear. The fog lifted, and he felt a sliver of himself return, just enough to feel the weight of what he’d become. He stumbled back, a strange sense of relief washing over him even as the darkness began to close in.

Leon’s face blurred, but Ethan’s mind clung to the memory of that young, determined expression. He wanted to thank Leon, to tell him he’d done the right thing, but his voice was lost, buried beneath the shadows. The pain faded, the hunger receded, and for the first time since he’d started to lose himself, Ethan felt at peace.

Chapter 4: So Many More ...

Leon lowered the gun, his face a mask of steely resolve, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of pain. He held his weapon steady, waiting to see if Ethan would rise again. When Ethan’s body remained still, Leon took a shaky breath, his grip loosening.

He had barely known Officer Ethan Bradshaw, had only met him briefly, but he’d seen enough to know the man had been kind, a seasoned cop with a protective instinct. Leon swallowed, his gaze lingering on Ethan’s motionless form for just a moment longer before he turned away, his duty pulling him forward. He had to convince himself over and over that these people were no longer human. It was becoming easier and easier with each pull of the trigger.

With a final look back, Leon stepped into the armory, his hands moving quickly and efficiently as he gathered weapons and ammunition. His first day had turned into a nightmare, but he had a job to do, and he wasn’t about to let Ethan’s sacrifice be in vain. There would be many more 'Ethan's' out there, so many more ...

“It is midnight, and Jolene is waiting for Oliver in a cabin next to the lake. The air is breezing cold, and the whistling of night birds is creeping her out. She is carrying a stun gun and pepper spray in case any animal or intruder attacks, but the horror is still sitting on her face.

‘This is so stupid. I should not have come. Where the hell is he? Maybe I should leave,’ Jolene murmurs.

She intends to call Oliver for the last time, and then leave if he doesn’t respond. And she hears a car coming. She goes to the back of the cabin and recognises the car. She walks out and rushes towards him in anger.

‘Where the hell have you been? It scared me to death. Is this a place to leave your girlfriend alone? And what happened to your phone?’ she yells.

‘Jolene, I am here now. There is no reason to be afraid anymore,’ he says and kisses her. ‘Better?’

‘Why did you want me here? What is it you want to show me?’

‘Patience, my love. Walk with me and you’ll find out by yourself.’

Then he takes out a small piece of cloth and asks her to blindfold herself. She refuses. It angers Oliver and he exhales.

‘It is a special place I want to show you, but I will not walk unless you put it on. We can just go back from here if that is what you want,’ he sounds desperate.

Jolene didn’t want to disappoint Oliver because the day she met him, her life flipped upside down.

He says, ‘It is something that I’ve been planning for months.’

‘Fine. You better not try to kill me. Everyone knows I am with you,’ she smirks and puts on the blindfold.

Oliver holds her hand and strolls. After a while, he gives her a coin and asks her to keep it safe and not lose it.

‘What is it for?’ she asks.

‘Enough with your questions already. You will find out soon. Now keep quiet and walk. I don’t want to be a wild animal’s dinner,’ he says.

They walk for a while, then he removes the blindfold. He points at an abandoned chapel. Twenty years ago, local people set fire to the chapel in order to build a new one closer to the city. Someone rumoured that evil spirits formed it, but many believe that it was a made-up story to avoid animal attacks. Jolene wonders about the rays of light coming out of the chapel’s window, scattering through the glass and creating a mesmerising ambience outside it.

Jolene seems scared, but Oliver’s unbothered and his brave presence encourages her to fight against fear. Although she grabs Oliver’s arm and says nothing. As they reach the door, he asks her to put the silver coin inside a box that is kept next to it. She does as he says, and the box opens. Oliver takes out a silver masquerade and gives it to her.

‘Happy anniversary,’ he says.

She loves it.

‘I made it for you,’ he says.

‘You never miss surprising me, Oliver.’

‘Come on, put it on.’

And she does.

It has been a year since Jolene has been with Oliver, and often he surprises her in unique ways. He always wears matching clothes without her saying, and it complements them as a couple. People cannot look away when they see them together. Most of Jolene’s friends envy her because they desire the same.

Oliver dives into Jolene’s eyes as if he is searching for something, and it makes her feel things she has never felt about herself.

She feels desired whenever Oliver talks to her. She could not imagine what to expect next, but she feels protected with Oliver.

‘Come on, put it on.’

And she does.

‘Marvellous,’ Oliver whispers in her ear.

Then he pushes the door open and all she can see is a mirror that’s glowing in the middle of the hall.

‘Oh no, I forgot something. Just wait here. Do not go inside until I am back.’ And Oliver ran before Jolene could say anything.

‘Great. Why does he have to do all this? Doesn’t he already know that he has my heart? What am I supposed to do here? Talk to the dead, I guess.’

She waits for a while, but it is getting chilly, and she looks back to find him but sees nothing in the dark. Meanwhile, the glowing mirror tempts her. It is the reason behind the beautiful ambience. She notices that there’s a cemetery next to the chapel. It appears to be gothic, and it doesn’t take long for fear running through her veins again as she walks inside.

As she does, the door closes. She screams out of shock, and the whole chapel echoes. Oliver has put a candle in every corner and its reflection through the mirror lights the entire hall. As she walks towards the mirror, she hears a whisper as Oliver whispered a few moments ago and feels as if someone is walking behind her.

‘It is all your imagination. Oliver will be back soon and everything will be alright,’ she consoles herself.

As she gets closer to the mirror, she realises it feels like silver too, but soon forgets about it when she notices her mirrored image.

‘Oh, you are beautiful and mysterious,’ she says.

She always envied people with less pale skin than hers, and the thought itself tormented her for years until she met Oliver. Oliver gave her the love and support she desired, made her feel beautiful and different.

For once, she forgot about Oliver while beholding herself in the mirror. She walks around to find out what else Oliver had arranged and every time she passes by the mirror, she cannot stop to take a glimpse.

‘So, this is how it feels to be beautiful. Sharon stands no chance in front of you anymore,’ she giggles. ‘I never thought that I’d ever say that.’

Still, there’s no sign of Oliver, and now it worries her. The door seems to be stuck. She looks for another way out, but there is none. She sees a broken window opposite the mirror. Before she goes out, she stops to take one last glimpse at the mirror and she sees Oliver behind her. Before she can turn, he pushes her into the mirror and she falls.

‘Have you lost your mind?’ she screams at him and gets back up.

And the hall smells like ashes. There is no Oliver, or the candles, or any way out, not even the door. It is all gone.

She runs all around in terror; she screams out for help, and there is no echo as well. There is indeed a mirror but not made of silver, but wood. It is all cracked. As she touches her face, the mask feels like wood, and her skin is dry and wrinkled. She looks in the mirror and finds her clothes to be torn and filthy.

As she tries to take off the mask, she fails, and it hurts, and her face bleeds. She runs around to find an escape but finds no way out. The door’s even gone. She collapses on the ground and feels lifeless.

When she feels a soft touch on her shoulder, she turns, and it is an old woman with a silver masquerade on her face. She looks just like her but is old.

‘Don’t be afraid, you will be safe here,’ she whispers in her ear and disappears.

‘Why me? Why me?’ she cries and faints.

When she opens her eyes, she finds herself in her room, and her mother is knocking on her door. She rushes to open the door and hugs her mother.

‘Come for breakfast; it is your favourite,’ her mother says.

She looks in the mirror, and her skin is pale as always. She takes a deep breath of relief.

‘It was just a dream, thank god.’

She gets to the kitchen and finds her father is reading the newspaper as usual, and she smells eggs.

‘I don’t want eggs. You said that you are making my favourite.’

‘It is your favourite.’

‘Never mind. Have you seen my phone?’

‘Your what?’

‘Phone.’

‘What phone?’

Jolene notices the date in the newspaper. It is dated twenty years back from now.

‘They are burning the chapel today,’ her father says.

‘Are you going too?’ her mother asks.

‘Of course I am. Evil spirits have taken over that chapel.’

Jolene checks her pocket and finds the silver coin that Oliver gave her yesterday.”

Oakdale is a small town. It's a small and nice town, filled with good people. Oak trees are all over this town, that's where the name comes from. As any town does, plenty of stories come from those woods. So, don't go looking too deep. Visitors should stay on designated visitor trails when out for a forest stroll. Don't talk to anyone you see that is off the path. Anyways- there are many great restaurants and stores. Dan's butchery is known for its amazing meat! Don't ask what the chili is made of . There are some stories going around about Deadly Dan, sorry I mean Dan, that could ruin his reputation. What's in the meat? I thought I just said don't ask that. No worries! It includes Ms. Smith, Dr. Daniel, and little Mavis. Huh? Oh, I mean't that they help with the process in the kitchen. Are you crazy? Moving on to entertainment. There's a local book store with lots of choices. They even have old skin bound books if that's more your style. Did I mean leather bound? No, but yes let's go with that. There's also a bakery in downtown. They sell brownies, cookies, and everything in between. Sometimes they make you feel a little tipsy. Are they spiked? No silly! Spiking something has malicious intent. This is all good fun! Let's meet some residents now! First is Mr. Sullivan. Him and his girlfriend Ms. Sanders live in the beautiful historic downtown district! Ms. Jones and him love to take walks around the gorgeous area. Ms. Hernandez writes in the nature section of the news paper! Who am I talking about? Well Ms. Jenny of course! I've said several different names? Oh, I do apologize. It's so hard to keep track of them all. Poor Mr. Sullivan and his girls; they keep going missing and turning up dismembered. Mr. Sullivan is pretty unlucky. You know speaking of, I haven't see Ms. Jenny in a week or so. Ah well, she's probably fine! On to Mrs. Anderson! She is very well known in Oakdale. She doesn't like children very much though. Does she eat them? Oh goodness, did you hear about the rumor of screaming coming from her basement? Yes? It was one time! The child was very really rude, so she snapped at him and he got mad and started screaming. Where is he now you ask? Well he is missing, and I did say that she...snapped...at him. He probably just ran off to sulk about it. Oh ignore the blood stain over there, I suppose clean up crew hasn't gotten to it yet. Let's circle back around to the nature. Oakdale has plenty of public parks. They have playgrounds for the kids, and walking paths for anyone! Some even have trails through the woods. What's that weird shallow hole over there? Is there an arm sticking out of it you ask? Oh, poor Tommy...don't mind that. So, what are you thinking about Oakdale so far?

There once was a vampire that killed her love of her life. However, no one knew why. Except for her dad that was also a vampire. They were the oldest vampire clan in the United States. However, to turn full vampire, you would have to kill someone you want to grow old with or have a life with. No one understood how painful it was to watch herself rip him to pieces. They only one to do everything and that night is all hallows eve. Her mom begged her dad to let her be human. however, it did not work.

An old, forbidding wooden house shrouded in cobwebs and rumors. A faded “condemned” sign tacked to a rickety front door for the past thirty years.

Yes, that’s how I’ll start my drabble. I can feel the dark prose taking shape.

No one dares approach this house, especially at 10 at night when unearthly groans are heard by the few neighbors left. Locals repeat a myth that a boy once snuck into this house, but never came out. His soul is said to be waiting to trap the next intruder.

Yes, I can feel myself in this godforsaken place. I almost

Let's be Frank...

I was sinking in the tank again,

And it left a venomous perfume...

The stink destroyed, and nearly liquefied my view...

I walked around like a cock-eyed sailor

Who was on extended leave...

The birds pecked at me

To get at any delicious meat that was vulnerable,

And open to the air

'til my clothes were torn and tattered,

And I could not be retrieved

From the gutter of unconscious thought...

The whole wretched thing was beyond belief

As I lay rotting

Upon the drain of some side road,

Along the jagged, nauseating edge...

Where the wind and the cold had left me...

At times like these the dogs must be

Completely certain

Before they feast upon your face...

While one was sniffing at my neck,

Another entertained my seasoned crotch,

As I attempted now to wiggle my big toe

To let them know I still had an inch of fight...

The Motherfucker would not budge!...

Well here I am in a big jam...

The Labrador that's violating the private zone

Below my belly is visually becoming aroused

With my inactivity,

And buries his teeth in me...

Shaking me around like a rag doll,

While a few horrified

Hobos pause in horror

On their way down the walk,

Pushing their belongings along with them...

At long last I am brutally released,

And tossed upon the concrete in a messy pile...

What the fuck's the point to anyone

When we've become invisible to eyes that only see

What the pacified passerby desire to see,

And dimly hear, and deem important to their psyche?...

The invisible cadaver...

The thing that barely has a name...

The broken face who's let himself go...

The girl who sits out in the rain...

You're eyes will never see us...

Though we are made of the same stuff...

The flies are feasting on my skin now...

The cops won't notice on their beat...

They only cruise the richer sides of town...

Their jobs are deceptively simple...

They keep the streets clean surrounding big business,

And swank...

The bars and restaurants, clothing stores...

Where status brings them in the doors...

That's where you'll find

The boys in blue...

And when the dying people do

They're sure to write us in their books...

Let's be Frank...

I was sinking in the tank again,

And it left a venomous perfume...

The stink destroyed, and nearly liquefied my view...

10/22/24

Bunny Villaire