Horror Stories - Blog Posts

Germany Gothic

- there are many fields of flowers. Pick yourself, the sign says. Leave money in box. Leave the money in the box. Bring a knife, not scissors for the flowers. Do not use the one supplied, you don't want your fingerprints on it.

- The playground is empty after eight. Empty. Don't be convinced otherwise. She's not there, the playground is empty.

- If you have a problem, do not approach the teacher watching over the children. Do not approach the mother of three. Smile and greet them, but approach the child waiting behind them. They are the ones truly guarding the children. They will help you. Their guardians guard something different.

- Some time ago, men in brown shirts stole people from their houses. These houses are marked with gold, but not by us. We only know not to step on the gold. The stolen people will not haunt you, the neighbours that watched will.

- This buildings is old, he proudly says. They survived the wars. You smile. You do not asked why they survived. The houses know your question, they grin. Ask them later, he doesn't know.

- A soccer field's lights are always on. People are always playing. Don't approach them; you don't know who they are playing against. Pray they win every night.

- The beggar is not hungry. Not for food. Be kind, and they will ask their price from someone else.

- If you are lost, don't ask the police officer. Ask the street musician. The oldest person in the city doesn't remember a day without that saxophone sounding through the streets. Music is a hobby for many species, and they know better than you where you came from.

- trust the fields. They have seen young girls safely pass. If it calls to you, answer it.

- avoid the people smiling at you, the ones with bright eyes and pretty scarves. No one has seen them here before. Walk beside the ones in grey and black who stare forward, never meeting your eyes. Trust me, they are watching you. If they do meet your eyes, they are telling you you are in danger.

- The bus driver is your friend. The security camera in the back of the bus is not.

-You do not talk to the person in the seat next to yours on the bus. Do not ask them where they're going. Do not ask where they need to get out. Humankind may have buried body language a long time ago, but it will serve you well now.

I’m writing this so there’s some kind of record in case I die. When I die, maybe. The longer this has gone on the more inevitable that has felt. I don’t know why this is happening or who is doing it to me. I wish I could point a finger at someone so the cops or whoever finds me after all this is over can get the bastard doing this, but…there’s nothing. Nothing!

I think I’m getting ahead of myself, though.

I’ll start at the beginning.

No one gets regular mail anymore. Everything is done through email or DMs. I mean, people still get junk mail and stuff, but not like mail-mail. I think that’s what made me so curious when I got the first envelope.

It didn’t have my address on it, or any stamps, or even a return address. Just my name written in a tidy script in the very center of the white rectangle. It wasn’t a legal envelope—more like the kind birthday cards come in. I don’t know why, but at the time it unnerved me. It wasn’t anywhere near my birthday, and the handwriting didn’t look like anyone’s I knew.

The envelope isn’t what’s important, though. I mean, it kind of is, but what was inside the envelope was more important.

The flap was tucked into the envelope, unsealed. When I opened it, two Polaroid pictures spilled out into my hand, one after the other in an eager cascade. If I didn’t know better, I would have said they jumped out of the envelope.

Curious and more confused by the moment, I flipped the pictures over.

The first one looked like something out of a horror movie. It showed a large concrete (or what I assumed was concrete) room. Concrete walls, floor, ceiling. In the center of the room was a hooded lamp hanging down over a person, naked, and tied to a chair. They were slumped forward, body weight straining against the ropes that bound them to the non-descript metal chair.

I blinked down at the thing, confused and more than a little worried. I had no idea why someone would send this to me. The shadows in the picture were too thick to make out the person’s face. I wondered if it was someone I knew, if this was supposed to be some kind of ransom demand, but there was no note accompanying the photos. My heart was already hammering as I looked at the other photo, hoping to find answers.

Instead, I found a picture of my face.

There, in halide and plastic, was my fucking face.

A pit opened up in my stomach as I stared down at it and my brain went blank. It refused to comprehend what was in front of it. In the photo, a gloved hand held a fistful of my hair, yanking it backward so my limp head rose enough to make me recognizable. My features were slack, like I was half-asleep or maybe drugged. I looked back to the gloved hand, but the wrist and arm were both covered by the sleeve of a sweater, making any guess as to who they were impossible.

It felt like the air had been punched out of me. I realized I was shaking, but couldn’t bring myself to look away from the half-lidded eyes—my eyes—in the picture.

I thought it had to be Photoshop—what else could it be?—but how do you Photoshop a Polaroid? It was one thing to create a Polaroid effect in the program, but that didn’t mean you could create a physical one. I’m not gonna lie, I don’t know much about photo editing, but I supposed it was possible to Photoshop something like this and then take a picture with the Polaroids. But I couldn’t see anything in the pictures to indicate they weren’t legitimate. Either way, I couldn’t stomach whatever sick joke someone was trying to play.

I tossed the photos in the trash, and tried to put it from my mind.

And before you ask: yes, I thought about going to the police, but I didn’t think they would do anything. Technically speaking, no crime had been committed so even if I insisted on making a report, and even if I could convince them to dust for fingerprints or whatever cops do, I had little confidence that whatever this was wouldn’t be filed away and never see the light of day again. And, I guess, part of me just wanted to forget about it. Can you blame me? Those pictures freaked me out and I just wanted to pretend it never happened.

A week later, thought, there was another envelope in my mailbox. Same nondescript white envelope, unsealed, with my name written in unfamiliar, tidy handwriting.

My first instinct was to toss it into the trash without looking at the contents. No way in hell did I want to see more freaky pictures made to look like I was being held captive or…or worse.

To this day, I wish I had listened to my gut and thrown the envelope away—better yet, I wish I had burned it.

But I didn’t.

I can’t explain it. Even if I was a better wordsmith, I don’t think I could put into words the compulsion I had to open that envelope. It would be easier, even, to say that it was as if I was possessed—that it wasn’t really me unfurling the flap that had been tucked into the stiff white paper backing, or like I was being controlled when I pulled the next two photos out of the sheaf. But none of that is true. It was me. I did those things and I will never—never—stop regretting that I did.

Like last time, there were a pair of Polaroid pictures in the envelope.

But the images were…not like last time.

It was still my face in the images, and as best I could tell they—I?—was still in the concrete room. The same black-gloved hand had a grip on my hair, but this time…

(Jesus fucking Christ even just typing the words is hard; my hands are shaking just remembering it)

This time it looked as if I had been beaten bloody. The face—my face—was beaten almost beyond recognition. The only thing I had to really indicate that it was still me was the bone-deep feeling of recognition I had with the person in the image. My lips were swollen, bleeding from a split in the corner of the bottom lip. Bruises darkened my face, a cut on one cheek bone indicated where I’d been hit especially hard, and the eye on that side looked swollen and bloodied. Blood dribbled from my hairline and ran in rivulets down the side of my face.

Just looking at the picture made me feel like I needed to bolt. I wasn’t sure where I would go or for how long, but the need to get out of my home and go somewhere—anywhere else—was intense. But how could I go? I had no way of knowing who was doing this. They could be anyone I spoke to on the street. Someone I knew. A stranger. Where could I even go that would be safe?

I fought to control my breathing as I paced in my kitchen, needing to move my body before I screamed. It took all of my willpower just to stay indoors instead of running out into the streets and just run, run, run.

Finally, I looked at the other image.

A second hand had entered the frame, wearing black gloves like the first one and holding a pair of pliers. The rusted metal tips were inside my mouth, clamped onto a bloodied tooth already halfway out of a socket. My face was still swollen and beaten, lips stretched wide in a silent scream that I could all but hear. Tears made clean streaks through the rivers of blood on my face.

I remembering swearing over and over, my spine slick with sweat as I looked at the image over and over, trying to discern anything that could help me find out who was sending these fucked up images and why, but there was nothing. It felt like there was too much air in my little kitchen and yet I couldn’t get any of it into my lungs.

That was the first time I’d had a panic attack.

I didn’t know what it was until my friends found me a short time later, huddled in a corner and hyperventilating. In full honesty, the rest of that night was a blur. I remember my friends helping me drink water, trying to talk me down from whatever ledge they thought I’d climbed to. Despite my fears and uncertainties of who could be sending the pictures, I made the choice to trust them. Desperate for someone to see what I was seeing and help me figure out what to do or who to talk to, I tried to show them the Polaroids, but when they looked at the pictures, there was only a square of darkness, as if whoever had taken the picture had left the lens cap on.

The pictures were gone.

And yeah, I get the whole ‘pics or it didn’t happen’ thing. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to convince my friends or the police without proof. The next time the envelope showed up, I tried to take pictures with my phone. The one after that, I tried to record a video. It didn’t matter. No matter what I did, the files were corrupted, unusable, or gone. Just gone. Deleted themselves so thoroughly I couldn’t even dig them out of the trash folder in my phone gallery.

At that point, I thought I’d lost my mind. I couldn’t think of a single logical reason why or how this was happening. Not for the Polaroids, or why no one else could see them, or what was going on with the digital files. None of it.

Meanwhile, the images in the Polaroids were getting…worse.

A sick feeling rolled in my stomach daily. As much as I wanted to believe these were some kind of deep fake, there was something about it that felt so undeniably real. It got to a point where I couldn’t go out to my mailbox without the anxiety forcing me to empty the contents of my stomach. I had to wait until someone came to visit and ask if they could get my mail for me. And there was always an envelope along with whatever junk or bills that had been piling up. Every. Single. Time.

The stress made my life impossible. I couldn’t sleep. Couldn’t eat. Couldn’t go to work. I couldn’t even leave the house most days. If I did, there was always the chance that my tormentor could find me and make good on all the threats they’d been sending me. At that point, that was all I could think of those Polaroids as: promises of violence.

Even now, I feel like I’m marching toward an inevitable pain. A future filled with only pain and suffering and that no matter what I do, there’s no stopping it. Only delaying it.

But I digress.

One of my friends said I needed to get help. Maybe I should have listened to them back then, but I was convinced that if I couldn’t get proof of the pictures themselves, then I would get proof of whoever was putting the envelopes in my mailbox. I figured I could at least that that to the police.

I ordered one of those self-installation security systems—the one with the off-brand Ring doorbell, cameras on my front door, mail box, etc. I even bought extra locks for my doors and windows. I spent the rest of the day setting up and testing my new security system. By the end of it, I felt pretty proud of myself. I was certain I was going to catch whoever was doing this and could turn them into the cops and all of this would just be a big bad dream. But I was wrong.

Sure enough, the security system picked up on movement around midnight that night. The new motion sensor light on the porch sprang to life, illuminating a figure wearing a dark hoodie. I jolted as fear struck me like lightning. They were tall, wide, imposing. They seemed impossibly large. Unavoidable. Undeniable.

I was watching them through the lens of a camera with two locked doors between us, and yet I felt as small and vulnerable as if they were in the room with me at that moment.

My eyes roamed the figure over and over, trying to find some kind of distinguishing features, but they angled themselves so the light shone from behind them. They became a dark silhouette—a shadow of death.

They stood there, still and stone for what seemed like hours. Even with the video on fast-forward, they hardly even swayed. Near 3AM, they turned, very slowly, toward the camera as though they knew exactly where to look for it. With agonizing slowness, they reached a gloved hand into their pocket and pulled out three polaroid photos. The camera refocused as the figure brought the pictures closer to the lens.

The first picture showed me duct tapped to the same chair with the figure standing behind me. Instead of pliers, they held a knife. The figure on my screen held up the second photo. In one hand they held the knife. In the other, an ear.

I wanted to look away, wanted to delete the video and crawl deep, deep under the covers of my bed, but I couldn’t move. I was transfixed at a cellular level as the figure showed the third picture. The same bloodied knife hovered over the image of my downcast head. For a moment, I thought all that had changed between photos was the position of my head, but I soon realized something else had changed. The ear in the hooded figure's hand...it was the other ear.

My hands were shaking as I watched the figure pull the photo away from the lens. They dropped them onto the doorstep and walked away into the night.

I was practically soiling my pants but I took the security footage down to the police. When I pulled it up to show them…you guessed it. The file was corrupted and unusable. The police told me that without evidence or a suspect, they couldn’t even make a report. Useless bastards. No wonder people don’t like cops! I was basically trapped in my house, terrified, at my absolute wit’s end, and they couldn’t even make a report?!

Anyway, like I said at the beginning, I’m writing all of this in the inevitability of my death.

It’s been a few weeks since I was able to capture that first video, and my large friend has been on my doorstep every night. They don’t always have pictures. Sometimes they just stand there, staring at the camera lens as if they can see through it and into my eyes. My soul?

On the nights when they do have photos, they’re…I can’t even say. Each one is worse than the last, detailing my slow and steady dismemberment.

I can’t explain why, but I know that once the photos finally detail my death, that this figure is going to come for me. It isn’t going to matter how many locks I have on my doors, or how many weapons I horde in order to protect myself. It’s going to get in here and it’s going to take me and it’s going to do to me every single thing that happened in those pictures.

I still don’t know how or why this is happening, only that I can’t avoid it any longer.

I’m scared. God, I’m so fucking scared, but I don’t know what else I can do. If there’s even anything that can be done.

My friends have given up on me and I don’t have any family. Not even a pet. I’m alone. Just like in those photos. So, if you’re reading this, know that they’re my last words. I needed someone else—anyone else—to know what happened to me. I don’t know if you’ll believe a word of it, but if nothing else, can you do me a favor? Remember me. Please. I’m so alone and so afraid and I know that eventually I’m going to disappear. I just don’t want to be forgotten, too.

Is it so much to ask that I just be allowed to lay around reading horror novels, playing indie horror games, and drinking coffee all day, then lay around all night watching horror movies and paranormal inestigation shows, and maybe write some horror short stories on the weekend which I then post to reddit as if they're first-hand accounts of spooky stuff that may or may not have actually happened to me?

I don't think I'm being unreasonable here.

My favorite episode of the podcast. I’ll never forget the sun plot where Hunter Reveals that his grandpa shot his hunting dog.

“There was a nagging feeling that something was off putting about the way he looked. It was like he had gotten a little longer overnight.”

Day 26 - Electric

You might've noticed this monstober series hasn't had any humans of any kind. One can only imagine how Frankenstein's monster looks in a world like that…

What a gorgeous day!

The sun shining ever so brightly! The birds chirping their sweet songs! The trees ever so delicately sway with the wind!

How the wind blows hard making the sea wave to unexpected victims. How the waves force the victims to stay with them. Dragging them down into the dept of the sea.

How their bodies go limp as the waters of the salty sea invade their systems, making it hard for them to cry out for help.

How their bodies touch the soft sands of the ocean shore. Hearing ever so faintly the screams of their loved ones.

How their lives never lived up to their expectations, how long they wanted to live. How many dreams and ideas they could’ve made. Wasted.

Wasted potential. “A tragedy” their loved ones would say as they look upon a dead corpse that once laid life. Wonderful life..

All because they wanted to enjoy the warm sands, the crystal waves and the sun as it sets.

What a gorgeous day.

Latest Video!

Check out my latest video!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l3Fu5v22wr0

Part 2 of the Group 2 story in which I’m a huge jerk to a person causing problems!

New Video!

Check out my latest video!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GJ2G2tPoO5E

Just a little intro to the second group I was in before the juicy stuff.

Check out my D&D Related Youtube Channel!

Got a channel talking all about my stories from my days of playing D&D and other things, check it out!

https://www.youtube.com/user/KrazFabbit

Walk-In Fridge

“Ow!”

Ken yanked his hand away from the sink as the water gushing out became scolding hot.

He dunked the burned hand into the Sani sink, which was kept mildly cold.

Ken typically used his bare hands to do the dishes. One of the dish gloves he’d brought in for all the preps and dishwashers to use had a tear in the pointer finger, and the other one just filled with water, even after duct-taping both tightly around his arm. He never figured out where the hole was.

Inspecting his hands, Ken noted the pink splashed all over the back of them, accompanied by a slight burning, almost-itching sensation. He stepped away from the sink, his worn, black sneakers dipping into little puddles on the floor.

His hand throbbed to the sound of his heartbeat. Why do they constantly shove me onto Dish? He thought, exhausted. It seemed like only people with sensitive skin were ever thrown on there.

The other usual dish, Alex, had eczema and kept this giant white bottle of special lotion in her locker.

Outside, a powerful, blistering wind shook up trees and whistled against the building. It was getting late, 10 pm, only an hour before closing.

BAM! BAM! BAM! The powerful knocks on one of the two back doors made Ken jump.

Heart still pounding, It made Ken feel silly when he remembered that Alex and another coworker had slipped outside to smoke on their vapes for a bit.

Trying not to slip on the wet ground, he pushed open the heavy door, which was completely locked from the outside.

Alex and Leyla slipped in, stripping off their heavy coats.

“You don’t have to knock so loudly, you know,” Ken told them as he returned to his spot in front of the sinks. “I’m right next to the door.”

“Leyla just has a lot of pent-up rage,” Alex explained, before hitting the vape and blowing the sweet fragrant smoke into the air. Both girls had to re-tie their hair back into ponytails and tuck them into their work caps.

“Someday, Richie’s gonna write you guys up for this,” Ken smirked. He didn’t get why so many of his coworkers just had to bring their vapes with them to a part-time job. They couldn’t last six hours without it? Why not have the decency to do it in the comfort of your home?

Leyla shrugged. “Richie doesn’t care as long as we do our jobs.”

“And have you been doing that?” Ken raised an eyebrow.

“Do your dishes,” Alex grinned.

“Um,” Ken stopped them from heading back out into the front. “Shouldn’t someone get to cleaning the walk-in?” The three of them turned to the giant, metal door, where the fridge sat.

It was at the very opposite end of the sink, sitting next to the second door leading directly outside. When the restaurant was extra quiet, usually late at night, you could hear the soft buzzing.

Leyla sighed. “Why can’t you do it?”

“It’s not my job,” Ken frowned.

“It’s not ours either,” Alex readjusted her cap, as she did often.

“The prep’s supposed to do it,” Leyla said. “But Dominique left early. So now you should be the one to do it.”

“He’s so messy,” Ken frowned. “He didn’t do a very good job cleaning his station.”

“But he gets his work done the fastest,” Leyla defended.

“Not super effectively,” Ken complained.

“Whatever,” Alex rolled her eyes. “His station looks fine.” Dominique was Alex and Leyla’s friend, as were a lot of people in this place. Friends who had convinced each other to work with them.

Richie’s voice cut into their conversation. The three of them could hear Richie from the front: “Alex! Leyla! Where are you?!”

The girls sighed, and Ken shook his head as he watched them exit out to the front.

He turned to the sinks and got back to work.

Richie was tonight’s shift lead. They were closer to Ken’s age than the high schoolers who snuck out to vape.

As Ken got through the last dirty plate, he froze to an unnerving sound: movement, inside the fridge.

His eyes shot in its direction. No more sound.

The sound had been faint, as if someone, or something, had bumped into something.

Waiting silently for anymore noise, Ken’s heart thrummed in his chest anxiously.

He considered checking inside, just to see, but he told himself to just focus on what he was being paid to do: clean.

Now all he could hear was the rhythm of running water. Outside, he heard the voices of his coworkers welcoming guests. They didn’t get very many customers at this time. He never understood how they could afford to stay open so late.

Once the commotion out front died down, Richie strolled in through the swinging doors. They scooped a foam cup from the racks of ingredients and brushed by Ken, situating themself into the manager's chair, a little black one right in front of the desk, complete with a computer, screens displaying the camera videos, and mini drawers stuffed with so much shit Ken doubted the scribbled-on labels were accurate anymore.

“Richie?” Ken asked.

Richie raised their eyes to Ken. “Mm?”

“Who's gonna clean the walk-in?”

Richie stretched an arm above their head. “Don’t worry about it, Ken. I’ll force one of the girls to do it before they leave.”

Ken nodded. He hated things being left unclean for too long. It was why he was one of the best dishes: he got through them fast just so he didn’t have to watch them sit around in their filth.

“I know. You mostly work with Omar, right? Everything done early and quickly, right? But on my shifts, we like to wait ‘till the end of the shifts. You get a bit dirty after doing it, huh?” Richie smiled. Ken was used to Omar’s shifts; tonight was his first time working with Richie since they became a shift lead.

“It’s an easy clean-up, especially with the aprons,” Ken protested.

Richie nodded. “You know this shift is mostly newbies. Dominique is fast but he’s still a tad careless.”

Ken nodded in agreement.

After a bit, Richie returned to the front. Ken was left with nothing to do. All the dishes were done. All the trash was taken out.

He swept the floor, though it had already been pretty neat from the previous few times he’d swept. Usually, those on dish waited until closing to finally sweep, and there'd always be a fun assortment of trash and fallen food bits scattered about the floor, along with puddles of water and some mysterious sludges.

Ken had to squeegee some of the water on his side of the room into the big drain underneath his station. If the building had been designed right, the drain would be slightly lower in elevation compared to the rest of the floor, but unfortunately, some doofus made it the same height, and a bunch of water collected behind it, cloudy and gray from whatever elements accumulated underneath the sink.

Then he heard it again. A bumping sound. This time louder than before. Were Ken’s ears playing tricks on him?

His heart thumping, he ignored it. After finishing the floor he decided to reorganize the condiments on the rack behind the prep station. Unfortunately much closer to the walk-in, but he preferred it over going out front to help clean and serve whatever random customer decided to grab a burger at 10:30 at night.

Ken tried not to think about the walk-in. He hadn’t felt so nervous about it since his first few days working here. He’d calmed down since, but working with a new crew under new conditions was spiking his anxieties again.

Finally, he pressed an ear against the metal door and listened hard. No sounds.

10:50 approached, and the crew up front was bringing back the last of the dishes, including items they were technically not supposed to be taking back until exactly 11. But most of the leads preferred to close as early as possible. No one wanted to go home thirty minutes before midnight. Even during the summer, when the high schoolers weren’t concerned about school.

Finally, Ken watched Richie tell Alex to clean up the walk-in, and for Leyla to clock out. Leyla ignored them and instead stayed to help Alex clean.

They were in there for maybe ten minutes or so. Ken thought he should help, but decided it wasn’t worth it and continued scrubbing his station. He always closed it well.

Finally, Ken watched Alex and Leyla lug out a ginormous black trash bag from the fridge.

“Fuck, this is heavy,” Leyla murmured.

Ken cringed when they nearly dropped it. Ken hated it when the bag hit the floor.

The girls disappeared out into the dark, windy night. The door shut behind them. They’d forgotten to jam a hat or trashcan onto it to keep it open.

Ken went up to the fridge and slipped inside.

He was impressed. The walk-in was spotless.

Nearly. He spotted a small, red smear on the floor just beside his feet.

Ken shook his head. How could they miss such an obvious spot?

As he crouched down to his knees to wipe it away, his eye caught something underneath the racks.

Bending low, he pulled it out and inspected it. And then yelled.

A human finger. Bits of red gore hung from the middle joint where it had been severed.

Heart beating faster, Ken couldn’t believe it.

He barged out of the fridge just as Alex and Leyla returned. Their clothes were splotched and stained from the cleaning job.

“Alex! Leyla!” Ken snapped. “Look at this!”

He held up the finger to them, letting them both take in the sight.

Ken huffed, “It’s paramount that you make sure to take out all of the trash!”

~~~

Other short stories by me:

Those Green Eyes

2 DAYS IN A ROW 😭😭😭😭 it’s 5:55am and I just reflexively punched everything off my fucking nightstand as I woke up bro 😭 istg I’m so fucking sick of this shit.

Also there was a cool dreams that felt like an scp type deal, a big cave that appears on coastlines with walls full of huge randomized human teeth and gums, nobody knows how far it goes and it doesn’t seem to follow any geographical limits from the outside world. From outside u can’t even see the interior very well, and if u enter it u are stuck in another dimension of infinite teeth tunnels. From an outside perspective once someone enters the tunnel they forget that person ever existed along with the existence of the tunnel. Kinda cool lol

I need help renaming my story as it's prompted off of the title "white fang" which is already a very famous book

here's some bits in the book's: Frankensteinwhte type experiment gay romance between teen boys animal teeth car crash broken bones desperation

any like ideas on how to create a new title? (also yes my account is named after my writing because i really love it lol)

THE BURNING GIRLS by C. J. TUDOR (REVIEW)

quickly: a woman of the cloth relocates to small-town England and uncovers a long-kept community secret. (single mom with a repressed past and a rebellious teen daughter / creepy blair witch stick dolls / ghostly apparitions / family secrets turning into community secrets / rich men controlling local government / a random spree killer).

quaint, quiet English towns are some of the most dangerous places on Earth. this is what The Burning Girls confirms in a story that feels like the UK version of a Fear Street novel. the chapters are short and quick, often ending with a cliffhanger. ‘good vs. evil’ and ‘nature vs. nurture’ are major motifs in this story, sometimes stereotypically so, sometimes uninspired. i wish there was more thrill and horror… with the lore behind what a ‘burning girl’ represents, there was the potential to go so much further. while i love the author’s tone and style, the substance lacked.

★ ★ ★

more thoughts: SPOILERS!

Some personal context… I picked this book out based on a search I did for ’theological horror’. I was trying to decide whether or not I was going to read the non-fiction book “Heathen: Religion and Race in American History”. As I’m already reading a non-fiction book on Indigenous American history, ”Indigenous Continent: The Epic Contest for North America”, and I just completed the lengthy “The Books of Jacob”, I was hesitant to read another lengthy non-fiction book.

My thought process was… I can soothe my horror itch and my religious history itch by reading a book that combined both. If the book was intriguing enough, then I’d move on to Heathen by Kathyrn. I found several books that fell into the theological horror genre, and ‘Burning Girl’s’ was a newer one, so I picked it. Sadly, it did not inspire me to reach for non-fiction theological history. While not bad, it didn’t capture what was interesting about the religious lore of Sussex England that the title and cover art so openly refer to.

The title is what truly caught my eye: THE BURNING GIRLS. That, paired with the promise of uncovering church mysteries, pulled me in.

The story opens with Reverend Jack, short for Jacqueline, who is being informed that she is being relocated to a distant Sussex community after an unfortunate occurrence at her church in Nottingham. Essentially, she wasn’t able to save an abused child from their parents and was partially blamed when the parents murdered the child. 

She moves to Chapel Croft with her 15-year-old daughter, a small village where everyone knows everyone, and her arrival is big news. Immediately, both mother and daughter have separate encounters with appearances of ‘burning girls’, ghostly apparitions who appear to be on fire, and missing bodily limbs. Reverend Jack is coincidentally informed that the creepy stick dolls everywhere are to commemorate the girls and families burned during religious wars back in Olde England. She’s also informed that seeing a ghost of a burning girl is a warning of impending danger.

As the story goes on, Revered Jack’s back story is unfurled. She comes from an abusive home with a psychotic spree-killing brother who is responsible for the death of her husband (who was also a pastor). Just before her move, she was informed that her brother was released from prison. While she thinks she is evading him by moving to Chapel Croft, unbeknownst to her, he is ruthlessly and methodically making his way to her and leaving a trail of bodies in his wake.

All the characters are dealing with some form of ‘good vs. evil’ struggle, most evident in Reverend Jack’s brother, who seems to have a voice within that he compels him to do evil deeds. There are also several references to the great question of whether or not people can be born bad, and what it means to be bad vs. being a good person doing a bad thing. To be honest, the word count could’ve been better spent exploring the wild history of the burning girls. 

Anyways, fast forward past two girls who went missing long ago being discovered in a well, the dead body of a missing priest being found buried under the church, a devious teenage boy found living with the dead body of his mother, and that same boy plotting the killing of Revered Jack’s daughter simply to please his equally devious killer girlfriend. Oh yeah, I forgot, did I mention that randomly, in the background of the main events, Reverend Jack’s brother has been traveling the countryside on foot and killing anyone who crosses his path?

The story ends in the loud gory cacophony of noise and violence that most B-level thrillers tend to end in. The psycho-killer teens confront Revered Jack and her daughter in the church for the big climax, which results in Jack killing the teens, and the church being set on fire in the process. At the last moment, just before Reverend Jack is engulfed by the flames, her psycho-killer brother rescues her. The people he killed to get to her kind of fade into the background as if his character’s sole purpose was to represent the bad person who does a good thing (in contrast to Reverend Jack being the good person who does a bad thing).

The miasma of “Good and Evil” that this story exists in is muddier than it is inspiring. Too many angels and devils in this garden if you ask me. And again, the gem, the burning girls, barely get any page time! Three stars. Not horrible, but not anything I am compelled to recommend. That said, I’d still love to try THE CHALK MAN, by this author, and give her another chance.

Hey everyone, would you be interested in a story told from the first-person perspective of a young woman who’s stuck living in a creepy underground town and has to face seriously chilling horrors? Let me know!

MY OPINION ABOUT THE VIDEOGAME 'UNTIL DAWN'

The beginning of the story is very interesting. The graphics, the atmosphere, the use of the totems that show possible futures, the fact that you can find clues from different categories that explain the story... it's one thing that I loved, and it gives a lot of gameplay. Also, the video that you complete as you find the totems is very intriguing. It gives you certain clues as to where the story is going, although you don't fully know the true motivation of the story until you get to the big plot twist, which I also think is awesome.

The use of the psychologist is an addition that gives the game a lot of personality, a lot of mystery, and the fact that the things you talk to him are reflected in the story is a great thing.

First I summarise the story and then I give my opinion and some ideas that may fix the meaningless points (I'm not saying that the story is wrong, I just need to see the story as something logical and credible).

(It contains spoilers from here): I warn that this is a long post, but an interesting one if you like scary stories.

The story:

(It doesn't have all the details)

At the beginning, the story is very good: they were in a huge house of the "protagonist" family, who had bought that whole mountain for themselves. There were the children of the family (who are Josh, Hannah and Beth, the parents never appear in person) and their friends spending what seems to be the winter. The friends wanted to play a prank on Hannah and it backfired: Hannah got really pissed off at the friends and ran off into the woods, followed by her sister Beth. Josh was drunk and couldn't do anything about it. The sisters supposedly died falling off a snowy cliff (Beth is clearly seen dying after hitting her back on a rock, but we don't know about Hannah exactly), and a mysterious guy with a flamethrower and a really big knife that previously walked near the house seems to try to save them (even though it's a scary video game you don't have to be suspicious of everyone and think everything is going to kill you), but he couldn't.

Josh, a year later, invites all his friends to that mountain to have a party and forget the past. Their relationships have changed, now they have different boyfriends/girlfriends and all that (the game focuses a lot on love relationships at the beginning, giving it a teenage feel). They have arguments, they don't get along as well as they used to, it seems that the accident broke them up. The huge house, or mansion they go to has no light bulbs, and everything happens at night, until dawn. The psychologist is like a break from the game, like something separate but related. The person who is playing the game is like the psychologist's patient, who has problems. The psychologist makes him choose between characters, between things that make him "afraid"...

Following the story, photographs of the sisters are found throughout the house. At one point, the couples split up (there are four couples, although one doesn't form, Mike and Jess, Matt and Emily, Ashley and Chris and Samantha and Josh - the latter is the one that doesn't form).

The couple Mike and Jess are sent to a cabin where they want to get intimate in their relationship, but something chases them and ends up kidnapping Jess. Mike tries to save her and arrives at a typical gold rush mine, where some sections are collapsed. He finds Jess in a lift (dead or alive depending on the player's choices, I think), who falls all the way down without Mike being able to do anything. He then has to escape from there, sees a flamethrower and chases him to an old, abandoned and destroyed madhouse.

Meanwhile, Matt and Em have gone to get a bag that Em forgot (they are not seen again until much later in the story). Ash, Chris, Sam and Josh stay at the mansion, having episodes of scares, still in no danger. Chris continues to play pranks as before and Sam takes a bath.

While she's in the bath, Ash, Chris and Josh have a seance, and the sister's supposed ghost talks to them and directs them to the library to find out how she supposedly died (I think you can choose to be Hannah's or Beth's ghost). Josh doesn't like that and leaves, not to be seen again until much later. Chris and Ash find pictures, videos, supposed ghost apparitions... and they reach what appears to be the continuation of the mansion through the basement, but it's badly damaged, it looks like it was a different house.

For his part, Mike follows the flamethrower guy to the asylum and discovers that there were 30 miners in the mine looking for gold, 80 years ago. The mine collapsed at that time and 12 miners were rescued in the asylum. Doctors at the time had been shocked to find them in such a good state (they should have been dead), and witnessed transformations in the miners into murderous, insane, cannibalistic creatures, which apparently condemned the asylum. The staff didn't want the media to know what was going on there and hid it (a journalist found out, but I'm not quite clear what happened afterwards).

Meanwhile, Ash and Chris are chased around the house by a supposed madman, until he captures Ash and Chris must find her. He arrives at a place where he has to choose between saving Ash (he's in love with her) or Josh (his lifelong best friend), as there's a Saw-like scene with a saw. Personally, I saw Ash being saved, and Josh dying. When they leave the place, they are reunited with Matt and Em, who have returned from looking for the bag. They talk about the psycho and that, and decide that the two of them will go to the radio tower to alert the police (they can't go down the mountain because the psycho has the key to the cable car). When they are in the tower, something cuts the ropes and they fall, ending up in the mine. Here I saw Matt save himself and let Em fall with the tower into the void.

In the psychologist's office it is discovered that the patient is the psychopath who has organised all this.

The psycho finds Ash and Chris after finding out that there were a bunch of cameras all over the house and dead animals on hooks (it was the psycho's hideout). Just after, Sam has just had a bath and follows a trail of balloons with arrows drawn on them showing the way to "find her clothes" (her clothes have been hidden while she was bathing and she is wearing a towel around the house). She reaches a room where the psychopath talks to her and shows her a video of her in the bathroom and the video of the prank played on Hannah the year before, and the psychopath goes after her. He chases her and eventually catches her and leaves her in a room where Mike finds on his way out of the asylum tunnels. He gets her out of there.

Another Saw-like scene appears where Ash and Chris are tied to chairs, Chris is holding a gun and there are saws above their heads that are slowly lowering. He has to choose between killing himself or killing Ash, if he shoots, the saws would stop (and I think they would both die if they let the saws come down). The gun only have blank bullets and right at this point is when they discover that the psycho is Josh in disguise (this is the big plot twist). Turns out he wanted to play the joke of the century on them so they would suffer the same way his sisters suffered (this means that the psychologist's patient is him, he was crazy because of the dead of his sisters, I think the psychologist's visits show that he needed help to get over the death of his sisters and medicate himself - this is mentioned -. Something I liked is that every time the psychologist appeared, the place looked more and more like the destroyed asylum Mike found, until you see just the rubble - this may also symbolize Josh's mind -). He is taken to a place, blamed for Jess's death (he claims it wasn't him) and left there, guarded by Mike.

Then, it's discovered that Em, who fell into the mine next to the radio tower, is still alive (she was lucky to have hooked onto a wire). She walks through the mine and encounters the flamethrower guy (who she first runs away from) and a strange creature (which turns out to be the thing the flamethrower guy wanted to protect them from). She falls down a grotto and reaches the area where the sisters died. Their bodies are gone. She finds the sisters' stuff nearby, Beth's grave (just Beth's) and Beth's head (a flaw in the creators keeping the face intact. After a whole year it should be signs of decomposition, although it's a cold climate, it can't last that long - considering it's a cave and hasn't been in contact with snow).

(I explain why at this point the story stops making sense to me and just focuses on scaring the players and adding a lot of violence - this is my opinion, of course-)

Em is chased by the creature and manages to escape and get to her other friends who are back in the house. Mike runs off alerted by the screams and leaves Josh alone. They let the guy with the flamethrower into the house, who explains what's going on: the mountain has some kind of curse from an Indian tribe (or so I understood) that unleashes a spirit (or mutation) if someone eats human flesh on that mountain. It transforms into a wendigo, a creature with impenetrable skin, but susceptible to fire, very violent, that its eyes lighten and only detect changes in the movement of its surroundings, its teeth and nails become longer, its body moves very fast and adapts to the movements of its prey. Bullets don't kill them, but make them back out. This is what happened to the 12 miners they rescued (apparently they ate the rest of the miners).

As they left Josh alone, Chris and the flamethrower guy go to look for him, the others must stay in the basement until dawn, when the police arrive and the wendigos stop hunting (for some reason they don't explain?), because it's a safe place. They don't find Josh and the wendigo approaches them (apparently killing the flamethrower guy I believe there's a posibility where this guy survives) and Chris runs alone to the house (here he can die if you don't control the character properly with the controller, I saw him die - strange that decisions take a back seat and the controls are the ones that kill or don't kill the characters-).

Now, for some strange reason that I don't understand, they think that Em is infected by the wendigo (not true) because it bit her even though the flamethrower guy told them that they only transform if they eat human flesh, and Mike goes crazy and wants to kill her (you can choose whether to shoot her or not). And for another strange reason that I don't understand either, Mike wants to go to the wendigo's lair, where they supposedly have Josh's body, who has the keys to the cable car, to get out of there as soon as possible, and not wait in the basement safely until dawn -which is 2 hours left- for the police to rescue them by helicopter 🤔. Well, the thing is that he goes to the asylum through the underground tunnels, he finds a bunch of wendigos locked up there (by the guy with the flamethrower), and others who are untied and chase him to the mine.

Then it's discovered that Jess, the one they thought was dead (the one who was kidnapped by a wendigo), is still alive. They get another stroke of foolishness and those who had stayed in the basement go after Mike, and as if that wasn't enough, when they go down some sewer stairs, they continue walking without waiting and leave Ash alone 😑. Further on there is a choice between going towards some sounds or regrouping with the ones who left her (obviously regrouping, I believe the other one is for having a extremely stupid dead). Then they split up for another strange reason (they can't climb some stairs and Sam goes to climb the rocks, but Ash and Em go the other way). Sam finds Mike and they save themselves from some wendigos.

Another scene of the psychologist appears, but now he and Josh are in the mines. Josh is alive but now he's there. He has hallucinations of the things he fears most.

Now, Mike and Sam arrive at the wendigos' lair. It's a scary, terrifying scene, with corpses of people hooked to the ceiling, loose heads lying around.... (I couldn't watch this, I couldn't stand it). They meet Josh there. Then they split up again, Sam goes to the house to tell the other that they are good and Mike and Josh go back the way they came (a wendigo was following them). That wendigo, who turns out to be Hannah (she didn't die, she ate Beth after 30 days locked in the cave - which I say, in a few hours these guys have been in and out of the mine a few times, why did she stay there for 30 days? And besides, after 30 days, the meat would be rotten... I believe some animals would end up in the mine). The wendigo kills Josh (it kills him in a terrible way) and Mike leaves.

From then on, Matt is still alive and meets Jess by the mine. They are chased by a wendigo and manage to escape (if you control the characters well, I saw them being saved).

Sam, meanwhile, returns to the house and meets Mike. Then, Ash and Em arrive in a hurry, pursued by a wendigo. Then comes the most tense scene of the whole game: several wendigos are inside with them, and they have to stand still so that they can't be seen. The wendigos start fighting among themselves and the friends have a plan to get out of the situation, which is to explode the house with a gas leak, they just have to turn on a light and everything will explode. There are a series of scenes where they have to stand still and hide, and in the end, if everything is done right, they escape and manage to kill the wendigos (there is a final part where it looks like the wendigo who is the miner that the story talks about the most -Billy Bates - is going to kill Sam just as she is going to hit the light, but it is stopped by the wendigo who is Hannah, it's like Hannah saves her, and that's the only part of the ending that I really liked). The police arrive and save the survivors. The scene along with the credits of the survivors telling the police what they saw is also very original.

The video of the totems explains a lot: It was made by the flamethrower guy, addressed to the sisters' friends. In it, he tells that the flamethrower guy's grandfather hunted wendigos, but one escaped him, the most dangerous one called Makkapitew. Then the miners came to the mountain and the mines collapsed, awakening the curse again. The miners became cannibals and wendigos. If you kill a wendigo, you release its soul, which is susceptible to possessing another person, so it's better to contain them and not kill them. The Makkapitew, after so many hunts, was still free. The year Beth died, he tracked it down. But Hannah and Beth were there too. The wendigo forced them to fall off the cliff, and he could not save them, but avenged them by killing the Makkapitew.

I guess with the spirit of Makkapitew released, Hannah became a wendigo?

My opinion:

I actually liked it a lot (except for that final part full of nonsense). I like the fact that all characters can be saved (except Josh) if you choose the best option. Also, at the beginning it's very relaxed, not a lot of blood and violence. However, from the scene of the saw it changes very abruptly and everything starts to be much more savage and I don't like that, it gives me creeps, that's why I couldn't see some scenes like the hideout with the animal corpses (althought it's not real), the wendigo's lair and Josh's hallucinations. That's why I don't like scary movies and videogames that focus on that (I've loved other games like Little Hope and Man of Medan because there is the perfect amount of violence).

Things that don't make sense (but doesn't mean some parts aren't great):

At the beginning, I liked the story, it was very interesting, but when they add something that has no scientific basis, I usually stop liking it.

The thing I least understand is that the team investigating Hannah and Beth's death didn't find the mine or the wendigos or the asylum or anything. It seems that in this game they are all stupid when it comes to making important decisions but incredibly clever when it comes to organising pranks.

Regarding the characters, at the beginning it seems that they haven't changed much after the death of the sisters (but they no longer get on well), why are they still making annoying jokes if the sisters died with one of them? That happens to me and I would never think of making jokes again in my life.

Also, all that nonsense I wrote while summarising the story, why do they leave the basement which is safe? Are they stupid? I mean, they're scared but they're out looking for the wendigos? I don't understand that. Lastly, I have to ask, why must the wendigos have physical transformations? Why not have the same human vision but also the same speed? And it only happens to humans, why? Why doesn't it happen to other animals? And it can't be cured or avoided? Why do they only hunt at night? And why do they only like eating human flesh? The moment they stop being human, they stop being cannibals when they eat human flesh, but that doesn't mean they can't eat other things, after all, their stomach doesn't change and I suppose they will still be able to eat the same things as humans.

Ideas:

Personally, I would have given more play to the asylum. It was put on the back burner. Instead of curses and all that nonsense, I would have had them rescue the miners, and because they were in such bad shape, they tried a serum or something they were still researching to save them, but it went wrong and they were turned into that. Makes more sense, doesn't it? Sure, but it doesn't fit with Hannah being turned. But for that I have an idea compatible with this one: Hannah managed to get out of the mine (like all her friends in a few hours, you can clearly see there are exits from all the rooms), and half dead, maybe disoriented, she made it all the way to the asylum. There is no light there, she doesn't know where she is, she is traumatised from seeing her sister die, so she injected herself by mistake (or not, I'm thinking about it as I go along) with the serum that the asylum wardens hastily left behind before she died, and she was transformed. But... you'll say, that doesn't fit with the flamethrower man's grandfather hunting wendigos either, and I'm not convinced... Don't worry, I have a different idea to the previous ones, although it's not very well thought out: perhaps, the minerals in the caves of that mountain had a strange chemical component that causes such mutations, compatible only with humans, and there were people who ended up with those components in their body and were transformed before the miners arrived. So anyone with that compound in their body, with a trigger, could transform into a wendigo. Could that trigger be human flesh? Is there something different about human flesh than the flesh of other animals? Obviously their composition varies, and that could be key. That is, if they spend time in the caves and eat human flesh, they become wendigo. This last idea is more in line with history (or maybe the best idea it's a combination of these two?). I've just shown that it's possible to make a story almost as good without resorting to myths and curses. And ruining (in my opinion) the possible increible end.

The Office | Older!Eddie M. X Fem!Reader

Just a Blurb

New job, new you. Something that was sure to highlight your better talents for your resume. Taking a step towards a better life. A-CORP was a 'from the ground up' type business funded by the CEO and your boss, Steve Harrington. Being an assistant wasn't all that glorious, but here it definitely isn't the average desk job. No. There was more to the job, you'd be designing, preparing, and presenting him with the ideas sent up. From there he'd decide what was good and what was unnecessary.

It was going swell. The first two weeks went by rather quickly, leveling up your clearance around the building. Things were coming along and pretty mundane for the most part. That was until you ran into him. Eddie Munson. He was a lifetime of wild and absolutely handsome.

Those rugged charms, good looks, and eyes you could stay lost in. To bring it all togeyhwr he of course had a soothing voice. So as youre still sat in the floor, with an ache in your bum, that wasn't as prominent as the blush spreading across your cheeks. You gaz up at him, surely making it awkward.

"Woah, babe down!" He chuckles, then bends down at his knees extending his arm out to help, "Let me help you up, pretty girl." You reach for Eddie's hand, allowing him to pull you up on your toes. Almost to quickly because you nearly topple him over, but he's quick to steady you both. "Woah easy."

Once on your evened out he steps back. "So sorry."

Eddie waves a hand across the hair shrugging his shoulders, "Nah." He shakes his head, "It's fine. Honestly a pleasure bumpin' into a hottie." Eddie nods his head towards you and you blush.

"Hottie? Me?" It was hard to for you to believe. However if a cute little number like Eddie was calling you hot then it was fine.

"Oh, yeah. Shit, yeah." He nods, spray curls bouncing with his movements. He smiles, "Obviously it's something I mean respectively."

"Thank you, Eddie." You smile from ear to ear, reaching down to adjust the buttons on your top. Brushing off your pencil skirt.

"So, you know my name." He smiles back. "That's-" He grins, "-that's great."

"Of course, Mr. Harrington is more than pleased with the work that comes from your department." You admit, although Steve wouldn't say that much. Usually just a nod or shrug here and there. Yet, it probably meant the world to Eddie, seeing as he was the head of Design Engineering. The genuine smile that he flash proved that, but it made his confidence in himself soar.

Eddie props himself against the office door letting you pass into your office. "Right." He laughs, brushing his nose with his thumb. "Here I was thinking you were some stalker."

You snicker at his comment, "It's not in my job description to keep eyes on other employees." Sparing him a glance as you plop down in the luxurious black-leather chair. The finest of office supplies were given to you at the request of Mr. Harrington. This was due to how likely you'd be stuck in there working.

"Damn, that's lame." Eddie sighs. "Thought maybe something interesting was going to happen."

"Yeah I met you." You retort with a grin.

TAGLIST

@yaspillz @dahliamae @capricornrisingsstuff @aysheashea @e0509 @off-phelia @strangerthingsstories5255 @fujiihime @puppy-coded @damon-loves-pie @seratoninsickness @k0urti @thatlonelypieceoftoast @phantomxoxo @wittlewowa @rollergirlworldwide @allithewriter @gothguitargal @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @ali-r3n @harrys-tittie @yearwalker96 @lipglossanon @thepastdied @jessevans @dullsocietyy @littlelimb @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @3rriberri @corroded-hellfire @munson-blurbs

The Call | Eddie M. X Fem!Reader

Summary: A night at home takes a turn for the worse when you and Eddie have an odd encounter with an anonymous caller.

i got this idea after watching a few horror movies and thought maybe it would be fun to experiment with some ideas using Eddie, because this man is final girl material m'kay so, please enjoy. of course if there is anything you'd like to see horror or fluff wise let me know.

There was no foreseeable end to the torrential downpour. It had been raining for days and it made for a rather slow day. However, this was a constant reminder of how much you needed to pack up and leave. A small town with hardly anything to show for, mediocre jobs, zero support and horrible pasts. Life wasn't all sunshine and rainbows, but Indiana wasn't the home you wanted. Even if you’d lived in the shitty town of Hawkins most of your life, some good had came from it so you held off.

You had made some friends by scoring a job at Family Video, thanks to Robin. She was the first true friend you had, but you couldn't have her without Steve Harrington. He used to be the showboat type flexing and flaunting his parents money to any girl he saw. The man that could flirt with anything that moved yet he was somehow different. He grew on you too. Naturally you became a die-hard trio until you met there other friends. Dustin and the crew of children that hung around were a delight.

Things were starting to get back to normal and then one day changed everything. You had met Eddie. He was so proud to be himself unlike most men he was honest. Wearing his heart out on his sleeve. You still remember the day the you met. Having dropped by the video store after one of his shifts to return a couple of forgotten. The man was a massive flirt, but he was surprised that you returned the playful banter. It was like a game. One that had gone on for several months before he asked you out.

Another two before it was official and by another year Eddie had surprised you with an apartment. One you two shared and enjoyed, but were really interested in a house.

However, it wasn't exactly affordable. So for now you were content with the small space you both shared.

The sound of jingling had yanked you right from all the thinking, followed by the sound of a creak and shuffling footsteps. “Baby?” 

Oh, Eddie was home. You’d been so busy with all the housework and caught up in your thoughts that time was just irrelevant. 

“In the living room!" You call out to him.

Eddie works off his boots kicking them aside, “Hard day, baby?” He asks, shrugging off his jacket, no doubt soaked from the rain.

“Not really.” You reply reaching down into the basket once more. “Just been doing laundry and cleaning up around the house. Plus you’ve got clothes to sleep in now.” You joke and he chuckles.

"Perfect. I'm gonna shower." Eddie waltzes down the hall passing you on the way. However halfway he stops. "You wanna join?" The smirk that curls his lips upwards is undeniable and you know exactly what he'd been implying to.

However it'd hard to ignore him, so you give in, "Alright, just going to finish this last shirt." You instruct and although it may have been cruel to make such a pretty man wait. Like the child he was Eddie cheered.

You folded the shirt neatly and set it aside in a pile, before pushing yourself off the couch. Only to be stopped by the phone.

Eddie's voice calls from down the hall, "Babe you coming?"

You curse the caller in your head. "Yes, just a minute. It might be Robin." Of course Eddie groans. He's a desperate man right now.

You giggle and reach for the phone, not even to bother with checking who it was. Lifting up the phone to your ear you smile.

"Hello Robin." A smile that could be felt through the phone. Eddie had made a point to tell you that many times his favorite thing was to see you smile. "I was wondering when you were gonna call me I-"

"Hello,(Y/N). You're looking lovely this afternoon."

"Who's this?"

"You'll find out soon enough. For now enjoy your shower."

Taglist:

@yaspillz @dahliamae @capricornrisingsstuff @aysheashea @e0509 @off-phelia @strangerthingsstories5255 @fujiihime @puppy-coded @damon-loves-pie @seratoninsickness @k0urti @thatlonelypieceoftoast @phantomxoxo @wittlewowa @rollergirlworldwide @allithewriter @gothguitargal @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @ali-r3n @harrys-tittie @yearwalker96 @lipglossanon @thepastdied @jessevans @dullsocietyy @littlelimb @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @3rriberri @corroded-hellfire @munson-blurbs

So I have decided to open my requests to more than just Steve and Eddie, so here's a list of what I will write for.

Slasher!Steddie

Michael!Steve

Ghostface!Eddie or Steve

Steddie

Ghostface: DBD, 2022, or the original Scream Ghostface

Jareth the Goblin King

Michael Myers

Pennywise (Papa): Original IT

Pennywise (Junior): New IT

I will think of more, but for now here is a good list of what I can think of.

Stranger Danger | Older!Eddie M. X Fem!Reader | Three

PLOT: Eddie is a loving single father and a busy man, he hires you on occasion to watch his child. Sometimes he wish he had the courage to ask you out, but one terrible weekend will prove to him he hasn't got much time.

WARNINGS: TW 18+ Guns, and gun violence mentioned, blood, slight gore, language, suggestiveness, angst, fluff, thriller, slasher, divorce, and adult humor.

Three Days.

Friday, Saturday and Sunday were all Eddie needed. The event from this Thursday still held a deep impact over you, but since Eddie gave the news it had became less pertinent. Having the assaulter locked up was definitely a relief. Especially since you'd be alone with Violet for these days.

Early that morning Eddie hit the road, making sure to leave behind his special care instructions for Violet. Who of which, at the moment was still sleeping in.

You'd let her have her rest. The poor thing was up most of the night with a couple of bad dreams. Her night–terrors usually started up on weekends like this when her father had to go out of town. Being separated from the only parent was tough on such a kind hearted kid.

As she slept in you got some cleaning done around the house, even started a batch of her laundry. Eddie insisted you didn't have to, but you always just did it anyway. As the first load was washing you started to prepare a small breakfast knowing that Violet would wake any second now.

Three days, turned into more, and later rolled into a year. At this point he'd convinced you to become a permanent resident, from babysitter to nanny. Violet sure loved having you around more and she began to even open up more towards you. That was something you always loved, learning more about the energetic bundle that was Violet Munson. Now being a part of their daily lives was all part of your job.

Working for Eddie Munson was the best job one could possibly have. He was generous, forgiving, and all around fun.

So far things were going well on the cloudy afternoon. A nice start off to a Monday and an even better week. Currently you were seated in the living-room and scrolling through one of the many media services in attempt to find a movie. Violet had promised to sit and watch it with you.

"Wow, who woulda thought it'd be so hard to pick a movie." You comment, lancing over at the small toddler curled up beside you.

"Maybe a princess one." Violet suggests, pointing to the first movie with a princess that appeared in your list. The movie in question was Tangled, which had ironically been your favorite tale. Rapunzel was willing to risk everything just to have the one thing she desired most. Freedom and longing to belong.

"Yeah, sounds good." You ultimately agree with her, "Rapunzel is such a cool princess." Violet turns to look at you giggling as the screen loaded in the content.

Meanwhile

Eddie had been deep into his workload when he received a call ushering him away from work. Said caller was Chief Hopper and he had mentioned something about an emergency. Eddie had rushed through traffic, nearly causing an accident twice. An emergency couldn't be good.

Were you okay? Did something happen to Violet?

So when he arrived at the station and stomped through the door he looked this way and that before spotting an officer chatting it up with another. He approached them until the chief rounded the corner and spotted him. Eddie froze, "Sorry to bother you, Mr. Munson. Come with me?" Despite not knowing what was going on he followed him down the hall, glancing back at the laughing pair of officers.

Deep down it bothered him. If there was an emergency why were they just standing around? What the fuck was going on around here?

The chief stops abruptly and holds open the door for him, Eddie glances at the man and rolls his eyes before walking in. Hopper follows and walks right past him and plops down into the leather rolling chair seated behind the desk. Eddie sits up in his own seat and shakes his head, "Just get to the point. I haven't got all day. I got a kid and-"

Hopper gets comfortable, before he interrupts him. Folding his hands over one another and placing them on the desk. "Steve Harrington, escaped prison early this morning." Eddie's eyes widen, but then his gaze narrows brows furrowing.

"Who?" The artist is merely confused by the name, but then it clicks suddenly. His face contorts to anger, "You mean that creep? The one who harassed my Nanny?" Eddie is throwing his hands this way and that as he speaks, anger and adrenaline coursing through him. At this point Eddie kicks his chair back as he stands. Slamming one hand down on the desk, reaching forward with his left to grab the chief's tie and yanking him forward. "How do you let someone escape a prison?!" His vocal range was extremely shocking, but then again he was one of the best.

Hopper was shocked, but having dealt with Eddie in the past he knew his anger was only temporary. "Eddie." His voice was stern and commanding. "Let go of my tie." He recognized the situation and slowly let go, lucky one of the many rings he adored, didn't tear the fabric. Eddie backs off the desk. Hopper goes to straighten his tie and sighs, "Sit." His eyes gesture to the chair and Eddie takes a seat.

"I know you're mad. Which is why I wasn't letting the situation go by unnoticed, so I called you." He reaches for his hat and places it over his head. "Because, it's not jus Harrington who got away. He took Hargrove with him."

Eddie's eyes widened, "Billy Hargrove, the one who killed those women back in the summer of 1985?"

Hopper nodded slowly, "Yeah uh, apparently they're the best of fucking buds."

"Shit." Eddie muttered. From what he remembered, Billy hadn't really liked him and Eddie hadn't exactly wronged him. Well, maybe for the fact he screwed him over on a drug deal and he got caught and arrested that night. One way to harbor a grudge. "What's your plan?"

"I'm issuing a man-hunt. I've already sent two officers over to yours, so the girls will be safe. You got my word." Hopper reached for his gun and clicked the safety on, before holstering his weapon and standing. "We'll get them."

Munson Residence 12:45 P.M.

"Okay, so do you want some macaroni and cheese or some ramen? Your choice." You turn to the wide eyed girl who's all smiles as the two items are presented to her.

"Uhm, can you make it all fancy? The noodles?" She asked you.

"Fancy?"

"Like in the cartoons!" She exclaims throwing her arms up in the air. "They got eggs, meat, and some other stuff, it always looks so yummy!" Oh. So that's what she meant.

"Yeah, of course. So the noodles then?"

"Noodles." She confirms. You tell her to run off and play while you prepare the meal for her. With her father out of the house you could offer her something better than frozen meals and Asian cuisine happened to be your specialty. Which Eddie adored about you, cause those noodles were always so, 'Yummy'. He would always declare.

As you turned the stove on and placed the pan of water over the fire the doorbell rang. It shocked both you and little Violet since there was no way her dad could be home so early. She runs up to you as you exit the kitchen. Violet reaches out to you and you oblige in scooping her into your arms, slowly making it over to the door.

When you open it the intruders are revealed, two officers bearing their full uniform are standing patiently at the porch. "Miss (L/N)?"

"Yes?" You answer cautiously and they nod.

The officer to the left speaks first, Violet hiding her face in your neck. "I'm Officer Polinski and this Hank. We've been sent by our chief to keep guard of the home."

You bounce Violet on your hip and frown, "Well, may I ask why?" "Yes. Your statement led us to capture Steve Harrington a year ago, but he has escaped and our chief along with Mr. Munson think it best for us to stay and keep watch." Polinski explained and you nodded.

Your heart was going to fall out of your chest. That horrible moment coming crashing over you again. His eyes, his voice, and everything was all so clear to you and now it could happen again. "Please." You urge them inside. "Come inside. I'll prepare lunch."

"Thank you."

In the next town over

"You ready?"

"Ready as ever, Harrington."

Steve scoffs and rolls his eyes clicking the safety of the Sig Sauer he was carrying. He gives a nod towards Billy, who smirks and kicks the door open to the small off road gas station. Shocking the old couple to death and in hail marry of bullets and shouting they took what they needed and dove underground.

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Stranger Danger | Older!Eddie M. X Fem!Reader | Two

PLOT: Eddie is a loving single father and a busy man, he hires you on occasion to watch his child. Sometimes he wish he had the courage to ask you out, but one terrible weekend will prove to him he hasn't got much time.

WARNINGS: blood, slight gore, language, suggestiveness, angst, fluff, thriller, slasher, divorce, and adult humor.

Next morning Eddie had been pulled from his sleep bright and early, due to usual routine. Except he didn't need to be at the studio until tomorrow. He would be away for the next three days he'd be in the next town over filming a new album and helping produce the music. So domestic days like this were very rare.

So he decided for once he'd try his hand at home cooked breakfast. The kind that families would wake up to in those old 70's, 80's, and 90's films. From how well he knew you, Eddie remembered how much you loved biscuits. Biscuits with sausage gravy to be more specific. Well, how hard could it be to make?

Where it would surprise almost anyone. You knew that Eddie happened to be an excellent chef. It was part of that magical charm of his. Knowing how to prepare the most unique dishes was something that made him stand out from others.

As he stirred the gravy on top the stove he set the timer for the biscuits sitting in the oven, twenty minutes should do just fine. Knowing that you had commented on how coffee kept you going on early mornings, he remembered to prepare a pot. Sweet smells of freshly baked biscuits, sausage, and brewing coffee wafted through the halls. It had stirred you awake from your slumber. Before you woke up completely you took in all the smells, then pulled yourself out of bed.

You stumble sleepily into the kitchen. The sight of Eddie in the kitchen was surely swoon worthy. Long shaggy, dark curls, pulled back into a bun, towel slung over his shoulder, dressed in an old tee and sweatpants. The ones that hugged his hips and hung a bit low, it made you feel warm deep down.

Eddie turns around and smiles, holding a bowl of freshly made gravy he greets you, "Morning, early bird." You snort and walk over to him.

"Good morning, Eddie." You eye the gravy, "Who's all this for?"

He sets it down and smiles sheepishly, "Well, I know you had a hard night and I'd figure I could make you breakfast for once." He explained and you take a seat at the end of the table, Eddie standing over you. "I gotta take care of my girls once and a while." He comments and continues setting up the table.

Elsewhere

Steve had shown up for his shift that morning at eight o'clock sharp, but as he pulled into the lot there were two more cars occupying the spaces. His boss Mike's vintage BMV was joined by to police cruisers. Shit. He mentally cursed himself. It had to be related to his little incident the other night and of course she had reported it.

Steve entered the place of business, bell signaling his entrance. Mike turned to glance at his employee along with the two officers. They all shared a look, before approaching him and Mike scurried off to the back. "Steve? Steve Harrington?"

Steve drops his bags and nodded, "Yes sir. That's me."

"Son, you'll need to come with us." The burly officer spoke first and Steve slowly held his hands up. "You Steven K. Harrington are under arrest, and will have the right to remain silent." He grips his shoulder and turns Seve around, gripping both wrists and cuffing him. "Officer Polinski, read him his rights. I'll finish here."

Back at the Munson Household

"This is amazing, Eddie. Absolutely perfect." You manage, covering your mouth as you spoke for politeness. Violet agreed clapping her hands out of excitement. After all, she was so used to pre-made meals or quick meals unless you cooked for her.

This was probably the first genuine meal he'd made in a while. "Daddy made yummy biscuits." She exclaims reaching over to scoop another bite into her small mouth. Violet had some gravy stuck to her nose and a drop on her cheek, definitely requiring a bath afterwards.

"Why, thank you." Eddie takes the compliment and goes to take another bite when the phone ringing interrupted their meal. Violet continued eating despite the interruption, but Eddie and (Y/N) were more concerned. They looked up from their plates, before Eddie stood up and excused himself from the table to answer the phone.

He caught it just in time on the fifth ring before it went straight to voice-mail. Glancing down at the Caller I.D. he noticed it was the Hawkins P.D. from their unique identification. "Hello?" He answered raising the phone to his ear and another voice greeted him.

"Morning, Mr. Munson. This is Chief Hopper with the Hawkins P.D. and I just need a moment of your time." The deep voice on the other end replied. "Did I wake you?"

Eddie took a breath and looked back at you and Violet. "No. No-Uhm," He shakes his head, turning his attention back to the conversation. Turning his back to the kitchen as to not worry you or his little girl. "You didn't. Didn't wake me, Chief." He replies slightly in disbelief, trying to understand the sudden need for a phone-call in the first place.

"Good, look let me start with an apology towards Miss (L/N)." Hopper spoke.

Eddie was confused, "To her? What for?" "Well, for the unfortunate experience she had with that boy, Steve Harrington." The chief reminds him and Eddie now understood. This must mean they caught him.

"So, they caught him?"

Steve looks back at the officers as he's escorted out of the van, sporting a new orange jumpsuit. Roughly being shoved towards the prison guards, now seeing as he was there problem from now on. The smell of the halls, the cells, it was horrible and filthy. This is the worst cell-block he heard the officers mention. This is what he deserved for his behavior. It made his blood boil.

"Yes. He's being transported to the big house now as we speak." Eddie smiled, he was relieved.

"So why the apology?" He asks then.

"We didn't handle the situation properly that night, but one of my officers, Hank, he uh saw the kid's record. So we got 'em."

"That's great, Sir. Thank you, I'll let her know." With that he hangs up and Eddie is immediately relieved as he sets the phone down. He sports a smile as he returns to the kitchen to deliver the good news. Only to find you hard at work over the sink cleaning up after him. God, what would he do without you?

He'd die.

Cell Block D Hawkin's Correctional

Steve huffed as the office tugged his wrists through the bars to uncuff him, but his grip was tight. The officer in question was smirking the whole time, "Hope you enjoy your stay. You've even got a room-mate, have fun." He sneered, before walking off, swinging the cuffs around his finger whistling the tune of some oldie.

"Well. Well. Well, look what the shit dragged in." That voice. He recognized it, Steve slowly turned and sure as fuck there he was. Billy Hargrove in all his shining, messy, and cocky glory. "Been a while, Harrington."

"Hargrove." He spat.

"King Steve." Billy spat back with even more venom, slowly approaching him before getting up in his face. "I've missed your dumb ass. So, what're you in for?" He asks circling Steve, who in turn watches him like a hawk.

He scoffs, "None of your business." Steve defends. Billy chuckles and steps back to take a seat on the right centered cot, manspreading and smirking.

"Come on, tell me your secrets and I'll tell you mine. Deal?"

"Fine." He gives in, "I'll tell you."

Life is about the choices you make or will make, you just have to make the right ones.

Tell me, do you?

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Stranger Danger | Older!Eddie M. X Fem!Reader | One

PLOT: Eddie is a loving single father and a busy man, he hires you on occasion to watch his child. Sometimes he wish he had the courage to ask you out, but one terrible weekend will prove to him he hasn't got much time.

WARNINGS: blood, slight gore, language, suggestiveness, angst, fluff, thriller, slasher, divorce, and adult humor.

3 Hours Ago..

"Well, that's everything." He shuts his door with a grunt, shaking the mas of water from his curls with a huff. You cannot help, but stare until he turns to you, "Sure you got everything?" You stare into his eyes and nod quietly.

He raises a brow in question and you quickly respond. "Y-Yes, I think so." Eddie nods, going to pull his seat belt on, before snatching the keys out of the cupholder, flashing you a smile. You turn to check on Violet, whom is all strapped in her car-seat giggling to herself. You give her a wave and she waves back, only to be distracted by the car not moving.

"Daddy, car not go!" She whines, thrashing about in her seat.

He turns to peak at her and she whines pointing forward. "Make it go, Daddy." She all but demands.

Eddie all but turns to you shocked written across his face. "Alright then, you heard the little lady buckle up."

You share the enthusiasm and pull on the seatbelt with a click. After was finally able to pull off into the street. As he does the rain tumbles down from the sky, following the rolling thunder, and bright flashes of light. "Looks like we'll be staying inside."

"Inside isn't to bad." Eddie claims as he reaches over to flick on the wipers. "I can stop by that old video rental place and you two can grab some movies and snacks." He offers.

Violet starts clapping, "Yay, movie time!"

You turn to him, "Don't you have all the possible streaming services set up at home?" While he surely made enough to own everything up to Disney Plus, maybe there was a good reason to choose to rent a movie.

"Yeah, duh." He admits with a shrug of his shoulders, "But it doesn't have the same thrill as hunting down the perfect movie and grabbing sugary treats." A good reason indeed. You cannot believe that Eddie would enjoy small things like that, but he's all smiles as he watches your mild dis-interest turn to that of complete joy.

You nod in agreement, deciding an adventure to the video store would do some good. Besides not all older movies were accessible on most streaming services and Violet could spend one on one with you. "Fine then. Let us commence the hunt."

Violet squeals in delight followed by her unique bubbly laughter, "I love movies! Hunt, hunt!" She was her father's spawn. Only a Munson could carry that much energy and excitement. It was extremely precious how the simplest activity could bring joy and life to her eyes.

As they headed towards the store the rain tumbled down from the sky, harder than it was previously. Violet, from what you remember, wasn't to fond of the rain at all. So to ease her stress you and Eddie began to sing to her, as a means of distracting her.

The store was locally known as Family Video, having been started up by a sweet local family back in the 80's and still held it's ground. Sometimes it's nice to dive back into the past. It's all about those memories ones you hold safe and dear. Some memories are darker than others and can lead to a tragic past. This leaves room for a choice and what the universe will ultimately decide as your fate.

Choose wisely....

You and Eddie ended the song right as he pulled into the lot, choosing the closest spot and parked the car. The rain had slowed to a pitter-patter and Violet had relaxed. "Here." He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. "Take my card, get whatever." He holds out the tiny stick of plastic to you and your eyes go wide.

"I-I've got cash, Sir." You deny the money given and Eddie smirks.

"I know, Sweetheart." He reaches over and takes your hand fingers gracing your skin in a way foreign to you. He opens your hand and places the card in your palm. His touch lights something within you, not to mention the endless amount of giving and kindness he shared. "Save your money. Consider, this my treat for working on such short notice." You and Eddie share a brief moment, eyes deeply locked onto one another, closer and closer-

"Can I go too?" Violet piped up from her seat. "I'm the best hunter!"

You and Eddie pulled back to turn and look at the little girl located in the back, eagerly trying to work the belt off her body. You snicker, "Yeah, sweetie. Hold on I'll come get you out." Eddie couldn't stop smiling as you hurried out of the car, slinging on your jacket, and covering your head with the hood.

As you fish the seatbelt off Violet, Eddie watches, it's so gentle and motherly the way you pull her into your arms and out of the seat. He should've just kissed you in that moment. You flash him a small smile and bump the door with your hip, shutting it. He needs to stop waiting, but he's so worried about your feelings he can't commit to it. Not yet, he needed a sign.

The bell rings signaling another customer who'd entered the store, "Hello and welcome to Family Video, my name is Steve how can I-" Mid-delivery he freezes. He watches as the woman approaches the counter with almost a bounce in her step, his heart starts pounding against his chest. So loud that the other patrons might hear, let alone you.

So when he's face to face with you he felt honored to even be in your presence. Your beauty and grace was unlike anything he'd seen around in a long while- "Hi uhmm- Steve, was it?"

Your voice pulls him from his thoughts and he nods, putting on the charm, but a bit to thick. "Yeah!" He confirms a bit too eagerly, "Yeah, that's me. I'm Steve." His eyes trail down to the smaller figure clung to you, nestled safely on your hip. Violet turned to look at him and he sends her a wave, but she just turns her face back away. Must be yours, "Is this your little one?" Steve is a bit to friendly with his question, at which you nearly pale.

"Oh no, no." You dismiss. "She's just one of the kids I babysit, her dad is a close friend and is letting her pick out a movie." You declare, stepping back a bit. Steve does notice this and his fists clench in anger at himself. "Fun." He smiles, biting back a scowl. So it wasn't yours, but a male close friend meant no chance for him. Steve sighs and nods with a semi-friendly smile, "The kid's section is just over there." Through his hidden anger he points over to the right of the counter and you quickly thank him before scurrying away. Violet turns to look over your shoulder back at Steve and notices the way he's still staring at you, hides yet again.

"Okay, here we go." You move to let her down, but she refuses. Shaking her head and giving a series of Uh-Uh's and whining. You're a bit shocked by the sudden behavior, because usually Violet is so outgoing and energetic like her dad. "Sweetie, what's wrong?" You ask crouching down and letting her rest her feet on the ground.

"Scary man. Staring." She whimpers, pointing behind you. "Over there." You look back at the counter where the clerk, Steve is helping a customer, before looking up and catching your eye. You swear you saw him smirk even. A deep sense of dread pools in your gut and looking back at Violet you know that it's time to leave. "O-Okay, sweetie. We'll go to another store, okay?" She nods eagerly and you scoop her up and turn to exit the aisle only to be blocked off by said clerk.

"S-Steve?" You curse the waver reflected in your voice and Violet clutches at our shirt, trying to stay as close as possible.

"Need some help?" He asks eyeing you over, and then glancing down at your empty hands. "You haven't picked anything out." He chuckles, dropping his shoulders and gesturing to the clearly stocked shelves. You force a smile and hold little Violet closer.

"We didn't find anything. So, we're going to try another store." You inform him and turn to walk away, "Thank you." You end the conversation quickly and try to step around him, but Steve does not back down. He instead moves to block off the exit completely.

"I'm sure there's something in the next aisle. Let me just show you." Steve insists stepping forward and you look back outside to the window. If only you hadn't left your phone in the car.

Eddie huffs checking the time on the radio, 8:36. "Huh, they've been in there for thirty minutes, what's taking them?" He tilts his head to look through the windows, but their tinted and it's hard to make out anything with all the downpour. He sighs and cuts off the engine, stuffing the keys in his pocket and hops out of the vehicle.

When he enters the store there's, at first, no sight of you or Violet. This causes him to panic slightly, until he spots the shadows and hears your voice loud and clear, "I said, No! Leave us alone!" He strides across the store, practically stomping over to the aisle you two were in, blocked off by one of the clerks. Eddie saw the fear in your eyes and the tears spilling off his daughter's face was enough. Everything clicked and he lunged for the clerk.

Steve was yanked back by his collar and tossed to the ground. It was like he weighed nothing to Eddie. The clerk groaned in pain, rolling to his side as the pain shot through his lower back. Eddie turns to face you both, "You girls okay?"

You nod and slowly approach him. Eddie quickly escorts you around and away from he injured stranger and eyes Steve on the ground still recovering from being man-handled. Eddie passes over the keys, "Go to the car, I'll be out in a minute." You nod and bid him a quiet 'Be careful.'

Steve watches as you scurry out the door and curses himself for screwing things up. Eddie crouches down over him, "You so much as move a muscle or even look in the direction of that door, I'll call the cops. Got me?"

"Yeah.." He groans looking up at him. Eddie reaches his hand back and punches him right in the nose. It definitely hurt, but the main thing that was concerning was the crimson leaking from his nose. "What the hell?"

"Stay the fuck away from my girls." He demands and Steve nods wiping the blood away on his sleeve. With that Eddie walked out leaving Steve there in pain. Thinking of whole situation just angered him even more.

Present

"And you are sure he was harassing you?" The officer declared.

"Yes! He tried to touch me with a child in my arms!" You argued and the officer sighed.

"Miss, just calm down-"

You had enough, they weren't helping, or listening. "You know what. Forget it." Gathering your things you leave the interrogation room and making a swift exit. Joining with Eddie in the waiting room, still holding a sleeping Violet.

He stands, "What did they say?" He asks and you scoff continuing to walk away him trailing on your heels.

"Nothing, Mr. Munson. They're not listening, let's just go home. I'm sure she's tired and-and I need sleep." He frowns, but nods.

"Okay, Sweetheart. Let's go."

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Stranger Danger | Older!Eddie M. X Fem!Reader | Intro

PLOT: Eddie is a loving single father and a busy man, he hires you on occasion to watch his child. Sometimes he wish he had the courage to ask you out, but one terrible weekend will prove to him he hasn't got much time. WARNINGS: blood, slight gore, language, suggestiveness, angst, fluff, thriller, slasher, divorce, and adult humor.

Tonight Hawkins Police are baffled by yet another series of brutal murders, claiming that no evidence has been found. All suspects appear to evade local officials leaving Hawkins' residents terrified; citizens have dubbed this mysterious stranger as The Night Walker–

The booming voice on T.V. is interrupted by the sudden blaring of the house phone. You quickly set aside the bowl of snacks and toss aside the blanket. You scoot to edge reaching for the phone. As you snatch it off the reciever, the caller I.D reveals it to be Eddie. He was a father to the sweetest little girl, whom you ended up babysitting for purely by mistake, but you loved it.

"Hello?" So deep in thought you forgot that'd your thumb had pressed the answer button. Oops.

"HI! Hey, Mr. Munson I'm sorry." You quickly apologized. "I dropped the phone." Scrambling to hold the device up to your ear, to be graced with that sweet laughter. Eddie has such a beautiful laugh, a kind souls, and even better heart. Not to mention how well he rook care of his daughter, not only that, Violet was respectful and energetic just like her Dad. How any mother could just drop out of their life is beyond you.

"Silly girl, always dropping stuff." He teases.

You scoff, "I do not always drop stuff."

"Oh, really?" Eddie inquires, a light chuckle escaping him.

"Yeah." You defend, unable to hold back the smile that spreads onto your face and Eddie can tell. "It's only sometimes."

"Okay." He agrees, enjoying your rather playful nature.. "Well, I didn't call you to just chat, Sweetheart. I need a favor–"

"Anything for you, Sir." You eagerly admit, and even before he can finish.

"Great." Eddie sighs in relief. "Now, I know I said you could have weekends off if you needed it, but I have to go out of town this weekend." He explains and you understood how busy his career kept him. Violet would miss him terribly and sometimes she couldn't sleep without him. "So I need you to stay over the weekend, Friday to Sunday, and take care of my little princess."

"Well, of course I wouldn't say no to that." Eddie is relieved and equally eased by your response. "I love Violet, she's a sweetheart." You add, already listing the many activities in your add and that she shall surely enjoy.

"That's great." Eddie sighs relieved. On his end he's engrossed in the activity of staring down at the little toddler playing at his feet. Her chin lifts up and a pair of bright green eyes find his. "She'll be excited." She tilts her head and he can tell that her little mind was working hard to figure out just exactly who was on the phone. Violet was incredibly sweet, but also intelligent in ways Eddie was more than proud of.

By the smile on his face and rosiness on her father's cheeks, there was only one answer. "Is that Miss (L/N), Daddy?" Violet drops her dolls and pulls herself to her feet, curling her tiny fingers in the fabric of his jeans to climb up into his lap. She's already reaching for the phone, Eddie laughing as her hands reach for the phone. "Daddy!" She whines, "Let me talk!"

You join in on the laughter, "I don't mind, Mr. Munson." You only encourage and he gives in mumbling something about spoiling you both then hands over the phone.

"Hi!" Violet squeals into the phone excitedly to which you respond with an eagerness.

"Hey, cutie. You keepin' him outta trouble?" She giggles and crawls off her dad to run off and converse with you. Eddie sighs, but is still smiling. His little girl was always so happy to see you and that should have been enough proof for him to make the leap. However, the last time he let his heart out to a girl, she left, and refused to be a part of the child's life. He should know you better than that but he worries. He needs a sign and maybe it'll come soon enough.

"Vi!" He calls out to her, "It's night-night time!"

Little did this family know there were forces, darker than light at work in his favor. Their life would change forever.

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I will continue the story if it is enjoyed and people want to see more.

Stay Closed Promo

Notes: this is my own original work and characters, please do not copy, translate, or steal anything from my works.

“Another day in hell,” Steve grunts, reaching for a box of party favors, “There’s no way it could get any worse.”

“Well, if you keep talking instead of moving your ass then it’ll get worse.” Lila comments from her spot at the bottom of the ladder. Steve cranes his head to look back down at her and grins.

“Aww don’t be such a party pooper, babes.” He teases, but turns back to get to work on moving the box of favors.

Lila scoffs in response, “I’m not. I just don’t want our asses to be grass.” 

“You think that Stan  really gives a shit about this place? Let alone us?” Steve inquires, climbing down the ladder with the box in tow. 

“Eh,” She shrugs while taking the box, “Maybe you’re right. Maybe you’re not. Still, I wanna keep my ass in check.” 

Steve rolls his eyes as her back is to him. Lila sets the box down and starts digging, until she releases a sigh, “Aha! One left!” She has plucked a packet of tacky, green dotted, set of plates from the box. “Fifty a pack. Our customer will be satisfied.”

Steve chuckles and snatches the item from her. “All that for some ugly plates.”

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So, I love writing for you guys and I enjoy stranger things, but how would you guys appreciate reading some of my original work? I got some horror stuff I'm working on