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>Be Mike Sapone
>And MAN, you gotta take a leak
>Too bad the first floor men’s room and women’s room are both closed. Figures that only the second floor men’s remains open
>The construction came completely out of nowhere, too
>So you sprint from English class down the hall, telling the straggling teachers behinsd you that you ‘gotta piss like a racehorse.’
>Which isn’t an exaggeration. When you finally hit that urinal, you feel you’re chipping the porcelain
>Feelsgoodman.jpg
>When you look up from the urinal, you notice something’s off
>Huh
>The bathroom is empty
>Well, that’s always nice? Sometimes pissing in privacy is what a-
>Oh wait, no it’s not
>There’s a twiggish gray wolf… slumped in the corner right behind you, behind the trashcan, arms folded in his sleeves, his yellow eyes unblinking and shot open with panic, covered in highlighter-colored flyers for the Spooktober Fest in a weak camouflage
>At least, you see him in the mirror
>Weird. But then again, Louis is a weirdddd wolf. You try to ignore him, because his brand of off-kilter is like Sam’s
>It has a gravitational pull for other weird shit
>Still, you should ask him if he’s okay. You might be breaking a law by not at least trying to help. And besides, he looks… kinda out of it
>You finish up, zip up, and turn your head towards where the wolf should be
“Louie boy, how you doing? Poisoned by your pet scorpion again?”
>The corner is vacant
>Just the trashcan, standing alone in the flickering lights…
”What the fuck did I just see?”
>You look back at the mirror
>Louis is back to where he was originally, behind the trashcan
>However, you’re no longer alone. When you turn your head back to the mirror, you see Louis — and you also see four cheerleaders — an otter, a coyote, a white rabbit and a badger, all in their stupid skimpy maroon-red uniforms, frilled skirts clipping at their knees
>One of them — the coyote — creeps towards you, smirking, eyes bright red with rabid intensity, practically slavering at the mouth
>You jump back when you feel something roughly tugging at the back of your shirt to expose your neck
>You spin around
“Get the FUCK off me!” you shout
>Your voice echoes off the bathroom walls, alone. There’s nothing there behind you
>Then, you hear paws scraping across the tile floor
>Everyone of the cheerleaders is moving towards you now
>You try to keep your eyes on at least one of them but-
>N-NANI!?
>They’re fast!
>You spin in all directions as they close in
>Left
>Right
>Forwards-
>You stumble backwards but bump into something or someone you can’t see
>There’s nobody here! Why can you only see them in the mirror!?
>Did someone drug you?
>You’ve gotta be high right now!
>Alex probably sold you some bad weed that wasn’t ‘just weed’
>This is his fault!
>“Please stay,” the badger hisses, her voice low and sharp like her fanged mouth. “We’re so hungry. We’ve been waiting for something tastier than Louis to walk through the door.”
>“Yeah!” the white rabbit joins in. “Louis is so…. Ugh. He tastes like dirt. We want something sweeter to snack on!”
>Nope
>That rabbit has fangs where she shouldn’t
>You are getting the FUCK out of here
>Gotta get the fuck out of here and beat the SHIT out of Alex for this
>You lift your feet to run, but feel something heavy pulling down at your pants
>And then, the fabric shrieks, shearing as invisible claws easily rip a hole down your legs…
>… and into your skin, blood springing from fresh wounds
>You somehow remain standing despite the blood-curdling pain
>And then, laughter
>Someone is laughing
>Someone with a booming and deep voice
>A voice you swear is right in your ear
>“Where are you going, Mike? You don’t think you’re going back to class, right? We all know you don’t really give a shit about class.”
>Oh Jesus, you recognize that voice from your English class
>Lydia Penferth
>You look back into the mirror
>Yep. She’s there
>A towering anthropomorphic lion, wearing tight-fitting black clothes, hair dyed bright purple, eyes colored in with what looks like an unnatural, feverish glow, stands behind you
>She’s studded her face with piercings so she looks like some kind of spikey geometric shape
>Metal hooks in her ears, nose…
>… studs and rods bulging out of her angular and feminine face
>Thin metal chain strings together her massive, fuzzy ears while her lips are practically ringed shut
>But the worst of it all is the way she’s standing
>She makes her six-foot even look like another extra foot with the way she’s curled her body up over yours
>Without a little restraint, she may as well be drooling on your face
>She plants two huge paws on your shoulders
>You can feel their impressive weight kneading into your muscles, as if she was tenderizing you, like a slab of meat
>“You know, I bet these girls wouldn’t give you a second glance if they weren’t under my control. They’re such horrible people deep down, wouldn’t you agree?”
>The cheerleaders circle your shivering body, their fangs glistening, mouth’s frothing with hunger
>They must not be able to hear Lydia
>You keep your eyes focused on the mirror, watching the circle of cheerleaders tighten around you
“You’re awfully cocky for a woman about to have her jaw broken,” you grunt
>You tighten your fists, feeling blood boiling in the pit of your stomach
“You hurt me and I swear-“
>“I don’t think it’ll hurt. Well, it might. Having your soul drained from your body can’t be comfortable. I just wish it didn’t have to be you, or that weirdo over there with all the bugs crawling through his fur.”
>She nods towards Louis, who looks about as useless as a discarded doll right now
“What do you mean?”
>You feel the fine needles of her claws pinching through your shirt fabric
“Why do you think we went after the cheerleaders first? Because they’re tight, athletic, popular and wealthy. You’re nothing like these dumb bimbos,” she says with a nod at the hungry cheerleaders. “We don’t want to hurt the nobodies, like you and Anon, but we also can’t have you running off now, can we, Mike?”
“The nobodies? What the fuck are you talking about?” you say, struggling
>She smiles, or, what looks like a smile behind all the metal coating her face
>“You, Anon, that Alex guy, that wolf over there — you’re all people who don’t mean shit to anyone else around here. You have no influence or power. No sort of gravity in any social circles. So it’s a shame, Mike. It’s a real shame.”
“And I’m not good enough to matter? You’re just going to off me. because I’m a nobody?”
>“You don’t pull any weight in anyone’s social circle. Hardly even your own little pond, with Anon, Alex, and that weird rabbit. Oh, I’m sorry, baby. You know I always liked you. But I’m still gonna suck the soul right outta your body.”
“Pull any weight, huh?” you nod your head several times, ignoring the piercing bite of her claws and the ear-rending shriek of fabric being slashed open
>Your favorite shirt
>Just a little longer. You clear your throat and search the open air for a distraction
“Maybe we can cut a deal?”
>She pauses, claws weighing into your bare flesh now that your shirt is in tatters
>“Well… you might have something I want. But it’s a long shot, you know?”
“Social pull, right?”
>Her laughter is a lion’s roar. “Let’s face it. You missed your chance to have that, Mike Sapone.”
“I never missed my chance. I gave it up. I don’t want it.”
>“Oh sure, you didn’t want it. You’re such a bad boy… you don’t want the fame or the glory at all. You’re just too cool and edgy to be in high school, huh? Can’t even notice when there’s a girl with a crush on you?”
>One by one, her claws sink into your skin, pulling your body downward
>You grunt through the pain
“Nobody has a crush on me, and that’s the fuckin’ way I like it!” you roar
>It takes everything you have just to remain vertical
>You’d have an easier time breathing underwater
>”I wouldn’t be so sure of that, humie. You know, the great thing about our ‘gift’ is that it heightens our senses? And there’s a certain vixen whose heart longs for you.”
“Who?”
>Lydia cuts loose with thick gales of sadistic laughter
>”Join us willingly, and we’ll tell you. How about that?”
>Your teeth ram together in strain…
>And a lot of anger
“GO TO HELL!”
>The cheerleader’s watch the sadistic spectacle, eyes feverish with feral hunger and need
>Whatever consciousness they have left seems replaced with only a rabid desire to feed on blood and-
>You notice none of them are wearing the traditional spats
>-we’re not going to finish that
>“God this is FUN!” Lydia shouts, her sadism on full display
>You can hear her in your ear, but it doesn’t sound like the sound is coming from in this bathroom
>And neither is the ragged breathing of the cheerleaders
>Isn’t the women’s restroom next to the men’s room?
>The first floor was closed, wasn’t it?
>They had to be in there, or… or something. You just need a way out!
>Or, you need to stop them from maiming your dick and/or your soul
>Panicked, your split eyes flick back towards the mirror where your assailants are visible
>The mirror
>Mike you geni-
>You bend your knees to the bite of her claws, and stifle a pained groan bubbling up from your chest
>Fuck
>This isn’t good. Lydia really presses down on you with her substantial weight
>The minute you hit the dirty, piss-soaked tile floors, you know it’s gonna be curtains for Mike muthafuckin’ Sapone
>Lydia only confirms this when she says:
>“When your body hits the ground, Mike, I’m going to enjoy watching you suffer for a little while. But hey, no hard feelings, babe. Like I said, this is more about liability than it is hatred.”
“Oh fuck off, you like this,” you grunt, trying to push upwards
>It’s no use; Lydia’s strength is too much
>“Well, you’re not wrong,” she says
>The TAP TAP of your blood splattering on the ground draws your attention
>You’ve got seconds — maybe — to execute your genius, well thought out plan
“S-So, back to our negotiations…” you try to keep your body rigid, but all it does is build tension in your lower legs
>You need to buy a little more time
>Your mind spins through all the possibilities while your mouth stammers, fighting back pained screams
>“Right, I almost forgot. I know you don’t read, buttercup, but have you seen a little red book lying around here?” Lydia says, still smirking
>A little red book?
>Your mind spins through all the memories you might have containing ‘little red books,’ and it’s shockingly brief
>Except for one very recent memory
>Sam had a book just like that — and then Anon had it
>You’d sell out that little gay rabbit in a heartbeat, but you know Anon is in possession of what Lydia’s after
>And soon they will look for it, a worrying thought
>“Tik-tock, fleshy,” she says as she presses her weight down. Your spine bows forward, giving you a superb view of the bottom of her maw
>You blurt out the first thing that comes to your mind
“I’ve seen it! I know what you’re talking about! A little red book with weird writing inside, yeah! I know it! But you have to let me go first before I tell you more!” you cry in desperation
>Some of the pressure releases
>Exactly what you wanted
>“Bullshit, you’re just trying to save your humanity.”
“NO! I mean YES! But I see your point now. Fuck normal, well-adjusted cunts. Fuck ‘em! Just let me go first and I’ll tell you everything I know!”
>You tighten your fists again as the pressure continues to evaporate
>You try to stand a little taller
>She pushes you back down
>“You’re not in much of a position to negotiate right now, babe,” she says
>You hope this works
>You suck down a gulp of air and lock your sights on her bottom muzzle, targeting a stud poking through her thin, brown fur
“Right, right. I know I don’t have any social pull. But I know who has the book, and that should matter, right? You remember Sam?”
>“Garlen? That brown little rag? Sure I do. We used to beat up on him a year ago. Sad, sad target.”
“They’re all Rabbits to me,” you seethe. “But you can’t miss him. Short, long ears. Same clothes every day. Green hoodie. Messy fur, dark brown-“
>“You mean he’s got it?” Lydia tenses her hold on you
“FUCK! MAYBE!” you cry as her
>She does something that alters the course of your life
>Somehow, through a mirror, Lyrida Penferth splits her jaw, razor-sharp fangs glistening in the light
“Don’t you fucking dare!” you scream, trying to wrestle free now
>Lydia clamps down on the side of your neck, where your shoulder curves up
>White flashes of pain blind you, like staring into the sun too long. Spots and flashes cloud your sight
>You feel two needle-like fangs break through your tender flesh
>And you cut loose with a pained scream
>After drinking her fill of your blood, Lydia pulls back and swiped a crimson palm across her glistening red-and-silver lips
>“Nah, you’re full of shit, Mike. I shoulda known your dumb ass would say anything to get out of this. Still, you tried. And for that: a gift. From me to you.”
“I am dumb,” you say, gasping, feeling blood sprouting from your fresh neck wound. “And I don’t have any social pull…”
>Now is the time
>She fucking DID SOMETHING TO YOU
>You bend your legs, ass nearly hitting the tile floor
>Lydia’s horrible smile spreads like a cancer
>The cheerleaders all hiss and claw at the empty inches in front of you and behind you
“…But I’ve got a lot of PUSH!”
>You explode upwards, your legs decompressing like a mine
>All those (secret) years of gymnastics paid off, you guess
>The top of your skull slams into Lydia’s lower jaw with such force that actually yelps and stumbles backwards, ropes of crimson blood and spit thrown from her red maw as she bites down on her tongue
>She releases her hold on yo as she falls backwards
>The cheerleaders are entirely shocked that their handlers probably had her jaw broken
>Then, all at once, they turn their attention back to one human: Mike Sapone
>You leap backwards, towards a urinal
>You know you have little time to do this. The cheerleaders cut loose with feral hisses, clawing at you. One them — a white rabbit — lunges forward on all fours, skittering into the urinal next to you as you side step her
>You face the mirror, ready to watch as the cheerleaders descend upon you like locusts
>Well Mike, you’ve made it this far
>What’s seven more years of bad luck?
>Despite the gnawing pain in your legs, and the river of blood cascading down your neck, you hit a dead sprint in the small distance between the back wall and the sink mirror
>Hands unseen grab you by your loose shirt fabric, but you run like your soul depended on it, playing through the contact
>Not out the door-
>(you’d never make it)
>-but forward, at the mirror
>With a bound and a leap, you curl your body into a tight ball and become airborne, a human cannonball
>Your eyes slam shut as you watch yourself hurtle towards the bathroom mirror
>There’s the sound of glass shattering, your body thudding off the sink, and then tumbling from said sink onto the filthy tile floor
>And then you hear a scream from next-door — a pained cacophony of one animal forcibly ejected from a reality warp, and four cheerleaders now likely unconscious from the severing blow that was your entire body colliding with their tunneled portal into the men’s room
>Your eyes open to a shattered mirror, shards of the reflective glass littering the sink
>And a lot of blood coating your upper body, dampening your shirt
>But you know time isn’t on your side with this one
>You don’t even think about going to the other bathroom and beating Lydia within an inch of her life (because let’s face it, she’d win that one)
>And that wolf that they likely victimized and then brought to the women’s bathroom is as good as dead as far as you’re concerned
>Snapjaws can fend for themselves better than you can
>You scramble onto two feet and leg it out of the bathroom, past the women’s restroom, and down the hall towards the stairs
>You white-knuckle the railing as you throw your body into a turn. Your wild flight comes to a halt when you crash into someone you didn’t see
>A red fox
>You stumble forward and brace yourself against the railing, nearly pitching over the railing qand onto the second floor
>The fox sits up, shaking off the hit
>It’s Jenna Orthorn
>Her tail starts to fan just a little when she sees you, but urgency soon takes over
>“Mike? Why are you sprinting down the stairs? Don’t you know h-how unsafe that is?” she asks, quickly scrambling to her feet and doing the ‘gotta pee’ dance
>She’s summoned to an unnatural halt when she sees the trail of blood running down your side and onto the stairs
>”M-M-Mike? I-Is there some-something wrong at the school? Why are you bleeding? Why are your clothes all ripp-”
>You grab her face with your bloody hands, fingers threading through her red fur
>Jenna squeaks, tries to shrink away, her tail still fanning just ever so slightly
“Jenna, listen to me. DO NOT GO TO THE GIRL’S BATHROOM ON THE SECOND FLOOR,” you beg her, cutting her off
>Her arms go slack at her side as color glows high in her predatory cheeks
>Her eyes look like they’re shimmering with confusion and concern. Deep wells, green with worry
>You ignore her shouting as you spin around and leg it down the stairs
“JUST GO PEE OUTSIDE OR SOMETHING!”
>You leave one of the few anthros you really actually like on the stairs in a daze, her head cocked to the side as you practically evaporate in a blur of blood and torn clothing
>A well-dressed rhino tries to stop you by calling your name, but you keep sprinting down the hall past him
>Class was almost over, and so the halls had begun to swell with students, making your escape both easier and yet more challenging
>The few times you%apos;re grateful for more students in the hall is when you care about them the least
>Alright Mike
>Make it to your car
>Or find Alex and Anon
>…
>Fuck it, you can call them later
>You blur right past a group of cheerleaders, who spring to their feet with mechanical alertness to your presence
>You swear you see their eyes glowing with lust and hunger
>Oh God
>One of them is a cheetah
>Be Anon again
>And, fuck, there’s finally a valid question
>Vanessa sits up in her chair for once, body locked straight, eyes forward on Mr. Bolm, who looks unbelievably overjoyed to have an actual question from Gloria
>“Actually, that’s a brilliant question, and I’m glad you asked! Do humans mate for life?” he repeats, eyes eagerly scanning the sea of pimply, teenage faces for- oh God, no, no!
>Look somewhere else, you old f-
>“ANON!” He brightens, turning to write the question on the board. “Pop quiz for my brightest student! Do humans mate for life?”
>You become acutely aware just how piercing everyone’s stares suddenly are
>Especially Vanessa’s
>You can feel an embarrassed — almost angry — blush scour your face
>With a curious interest, Vanessa taps on the desk, cocking her head to the side, a smile gathering on her black lips
>Fuck
“Well, that’s… That’s the ideal, I think. We’d all like to fall in love once and forever. I don’t know. I’ve never been in love before-“
>You cut yourself short before you embarrass yourself
>A few hushed whispers from the class cause you to break into bashful sweats
>Well shit, you kind of know how Sam feels right now
>Every time you get nervous, you always look for a distraction
>Or get angry
“Have you ever been in love, Mr. Bolm?”
>To the sound of barely restrained gasps and your own heavy breathing, Mr. Bolm turns around, a stung look on his face
>“Yes, I have,” he says. You see a flash of light from the ring on his finger. “I was in love for a long, long, long time. They say you only get one person in life you truly love. Or at least for humans, this is true.”
>But his expression doesn’t match up like you thought it would
>It looks like you just diagnosed him with stage four cancer, or you informed him his best friend was dying-
>Oh god
>His wife is dead, isn’t she?
>Isn’t that just perfect?
>Vanessa can no longer hold back her laughter as the bell kicks itself
>Mr. Bolm does not dismiss the class, he only stares defeated at the floor
>The class dismisses itself with squealing chairs and chatter
>You’re the first out the door, muttering a red-faced apology at the isolated figure that is now Mr. Bolm, who doesn’t hear you
>“Hey Anon, wait!”
>Vanessa is right behind you
>Damn, she moves quick
>You step into the stream of students, desperate to get out of this classroom
>Vanessa grabs hold of your arm with unnatural strength — the kind that could shatter your bone
>You wince in pain
>And God, she’s cold to the touch
>Like, ice cold
>“Great answer back there. How did you know that Bolm’s wife left his sorry ass?”
“L-Lucky guess?” you say with a shrug, not feeling any less than a complete fucknugget who abused the memory of a man’s love out of anxiety
>But when Vanessa only laughs more when you say you ‘didn’t mean it like that’
>It suddenly dawns on you: this is her
>The woman who might be responsible for the stuff in the altar room above the school
>The sudden animosity between groups
>The plot you’ve now been dragged into
>“God,” she laughs like she’s not potentially involved in some dark ritual, or at the very least being manipulated herself. “He’s such a fucking sob. He’s probably just upset he can’t pull any teen pussy now that his wife is gone. ‘Oh no my wife had an affair, oh noooooo!’”
>She looks at you, suddenly serious, the laughter evaporating from her face. Her black lips go slant, and her green eyes flick upwards into your face from beneath heavy eyeliner
>“Don’t you just wish everyone like him, all these well adjusted, thoughtless fucks, were gone? Or at least punished somehow? What if every normie who ever taunted you, failed you, or hurt you, was enslaved to your will?”
>Yep
>She fucking done it, Anon. She is no longer a hapless victim
>She’s at least some pawn in this entire mess
“Enslaved? In what way?” you say, as students brush past you and the doe
>She pauses, studying you with pursed lips
>You stand alert, but only out of sudden fear
>Satisfied with her assessment, she nods her head slowly
>“Any way you want, Anon.” She nods to something further behind you. “Imagine having complete control over everything, and with just a little… sacrifice… you can bring your dreams to life?”
>Oh, it’s Harold, a North American black bear
>His arms shudder as he balances a high stack of percussion instruments
>He’s a band kid, and nice enough. You had gym with him once
>Surprisingly good at doing hurdles
>”You see Harold? Well… just watch.”
>You look back to see Vanessa drawing a small black book out of her bag
>Your heart tightens up into a little ball of anxiety
>Oh god, she really is behind all this
>‘Brothers, black and red.’
>‘The Book of Wrath’
>“We can do all kinds of things to shallow and awful people. Doesn’t that sound nice?”
>She spins open the book and nips at her finger with- are those fangs!?
>A small dot of blood appears on the tip of her fuzzy index finger
>H-How is that possible? Deer aren’t predators!
>She then smears it onto a messy page covered in esoteric script
>There’s the sound of the drums being struck all at once that draws your attention back to the bear
>BAM
>BAM
>BAMBAMBAMBAMBAMBAM
>The drums practically explode out of Harold’s arms like a cluster bomb, shotgun-spraying in all directions
>Harold gets blown on his wide ass by the force of explosion
>The crowd forms a wide ring around the bear
>But by the time the bear can sit up, he has two punks on him, both humans, twisting his collar up, screaming in his face
>Apparently one of took a snare drum to the head
>The crowds look tense
>And not because they’re about to witness a hate crime
>But because the ones still recovering from the barrage look pissed off at Harold and each other
>In fact, they all look ready to commit hate crimes against each other
“What the fuck…? Why is everyone so violent lately?“
>“I told you. We have all kinds of ways to turn them against each other,” Vanessa says, closing the dark tome, wearing a terribly satisfied grin
>It shuts with a heavy THUMP
“Is that why everyone seems so on edge lately? That book?”
>“No,” she says, shoving the book back into her bag. “Not just this book. There are a few other… reasons. How about we talk about this somewhere more private?”
>Your feet tap against the concrete in rapid fire
>You agreed to meet her at the loading dock behind the school after three
>And here you wait, studying the crooked graffiti and bad art
>The loading dock is empty except for the memories of you, Mike, Sam and Alex climbing the broken ladder
>Speaking of, you whip out your phone and start tapping out a message to the two of them
‘Vanessa is the one. We need to’-
>“I knew you’d come, Anon,” Vanessa emerges from the shadows of the loading dock, reeking of freshly chuffed ciggies
>Two other goths are at her side
>One human — A male named Reese
>And the other, an adorable lil’ rat…
>…who does not look all that adorable smoking on a cigarette that’s nearly one fourth her size
>Okay, it’s a little funny though
“Right, I’m… I’m here, as promised.”
>The other two steps towards you in unison
>“Hang on. Anon’s not one of them,” Vanessa halts their advance with a throaty command
>Exchanging suspicious looks, the pair steps back towards Vanessa’s side
>You notice the doe has The Book of Wrath open in her right hand
>“Anon is one of us. A nobody. On the inside and outside.”
>Cringe
>God, this was a mistake
>You should just leave right now
>You shouldn’t even be at school
>You should be trying to get Alex and Mike together to save Sam…
>… however you’ll do that
>”Aren’t you the one who’s always hanging around with Sapone and Mullen?” Reese hisses at you
>”Yeah!” the rat affirms. “And that smelly rabbit who sits next to me in math, what’s his name?”
>Sam
>You can’t let them know that Sam is the one who found the book
>You need to move this along
“Why am I hear?” you say before the two goths can finish fighting over Sam’s name
>Vannesa silences her goons with a hissing shush
>She turns to you, a little more composed
>“Do you believe in magic? Curses?”
>Oh, you always hated Harry Potter
>But you don’t tell her the truth, because frankly, you’re a coward
>So you say?
“… I don’t know what if what know is true anymore. I guess I’m open to the idea?”
>The rat flicks her cigarette at your feet and looks up to Vanessa
>“How about a demonstration?” she says suddenly, her voice far deeper than it has any right to be
>She cuts into her thumb with her front teeth and presses the bloody digit into the pages of the The Book of Wrath
>God, her sharp little bangs that cover only of her eyes are just too adorable-
>You jump backwards as the cigarette pops and fizzes like a firecracker at your feet
>From its bubbling ashes, a terrible shape arises, the shape of a beast, rising from the small light of embers, billowing up, out of smoke and ash, a cherry-red heart of flame beginning to glow inside a cloud that stretches arms and legs
>It lets out a scorched roar, breathing nicotine and flakes of ash which coat your hair
>It’s nearly twice your size in a matter of seconds
“Holy fuck!” You jump back as it reaches for you with an ashy hand
>Vanessa wheezes, sweat beading down her face
>The smoke demon advances at you, raising its arm to take a swing
>No longer able to control the smoke-beast, she slams the book shut
>With a billowing POOF, the beast becomes wisps of smoke, fading into the atmosphere above
>You feel like shitting yourself
>God, you’re such a coward
>How the fuck are you going to save Sam if you’re scared of shit like that? You met Sam’s dad once and puked out of anxiety
>“See what we can do?” She says, looking winded, but satisfied. “And we can do more than just that.”
>“Have you seen the moon lately?” the Reese says
>Oh shit, wait
“That was you? You can control the moon?”
>He nods in satisfaction. “We could for a while, until Kate lost the other book.”
“Kate?”
>“Winslow,” Vanessa says with an annoyed spit. “Kate Winslow helped us set this week in motion, but then lost the Book of Rite in the girl’s bathroom.”
>Just like the book said — ‘The Book of Rite’ that is
>God, this is too much to take in all at once
>You feel like you’ve been drugged
>You hope they don’t notice your whole body trembling with fear
>“We just need it to the complete the last rite on Friday. Along with a few… other things.”
“Last rite? Other things?”
>Vanessa smirks
>“Remember what I said about punishing every normie, Anon?”
>Normie
>Heh
>She continues as you struggle to move your mouth
>“What better way to punish the normies than to have them punish each other? Once Friday rolls around, and we have our pure virgin and our book, we can finally return this world to a primal form of madness.”
“Primal madness? Pure Virgins? Jesus Christ, Vanessa, do you even know what you’re fucking with?”
>“You read a lot. Ever read Lovecraft, Anon? Think of violent Eldritch madness, with a little of Twilight thrown in there for good measure. All the people that take their sanity for granted, their social status… They’ll be at each other’s throats soon enough.”
“So, why are you telling me this?”
>There has to be an ulterior motive
>“Because you’re not one of them. You and your friends somehow can exist outside the petty spheres of high school cliques. You’re the nobodies. And I know you better than you think, Anon. Same classes for almost twelve years, competing GPA, and the same disgust with social politicking as me.”
>Oh
>So they’re awfully trusting. That’s a good thing
“Gee, thanks,” you quip, sarcasm dripping off your syllables. “But there’s always a catch. So what’s the catch”
>Gloria lets a thin smile blossom on her lips
>“You’re close with Gloria Duchene, right?”
>You blush at the idea
“Close? No, I wouldn’t say I’m close with her. More like she’s been fawning over me (no offense) ever since she got to public school. Goat is stubborn as hell when she’s told no.”
>“Right!” Vanessa says. “Her weird human fetish is exactly what we need you to work with. Well, that, and her virginity.”
“WHAT?”
>The Goths cut loose with thick gales of stupid laughter
>You blush again like a crushing school girl
>FUCK these kids
>“Calm down, Anon, it’s not what you think. We just need pure, virgin blood to continue the ritual, and Gloria’s as pure a virgin as they come.”
“So you want me to… NO, I am NOT having sex with-“
>Vanessa laughs even harder
>You take a step back, face burning with the very idea of getting your genitals anywhere near that goat
>“We don’t want you to fuck her either, bro. But what you do with her is your own deal. We just need her for the week. So, will you help us?”
>You almost can’t believe them when they ask
“Will I help you guys? Seriously?”
>”It’s easy. She’s obsessed with you. Just bring her to the gym tomorrow during your lunch. We’ll be waiting there.”
>Help bring about Eldritch madness like in a badly written teenage drama?
>Help THESE cringy idiots?
>Who the hell do they think you are?
>Why would anyone want to help them complete a dark ritual?
>Sure you hate Gloria, but even you wouldn’t betray her to them
>Well, on second thought, it’d have to be a good enough reason…
>Your eyes flick towards the broken ladder again, and all you can think of is Sam, languishing under his father’s ‘care’
>…which you think you’ve found
>You clear your throat
“Vanessa?”
>This is the dumbest thing you’ve ever done
>The doe perks up at the sound of her name, her pierced ears twitching
>By a lot
>Who knows if it will even work?
“I’ll help you get Gloria to the gym.”
>You’re going to keep your knowledge of the other book a secret, though
>One last ace up your sleeve, just in case
>Right now though, that doesn’t matter. The book is irrelevant. Because you have another chip you can cash in: Gloria
“But in exchange — right here, right now — I want you to make me brave.”
>The goth’s exchange confused looks
>“Brave?” the rat asks, looking at Vanessa, and then to you
“Just… don’t ask,” you say as you stare directly at Vanessa, eyes begging her to do it so you can leave
“Well? What’s your answer?”
>She studies you, the trusting look gone from her face
>You can physically feel your armpits swelling with moisture
>God DAMNIT, you’re such a coward
>First it was college
>Then it was this whole situation you involved yourself in
>And now you’re cutting a deal with the enemy
>To what?
>Save a kid who, until last night, you couldn’t care less about?
>Are you gay? Is that why you’re doing this?
>You shake your head, ignoring the piercing stares of the goths
>You’re not gay, not even a litt-
>“Fine,” Vanessa says. “Roll up your sleeve and hold out your arm.”
>You don’t even question her — you’ve seen the magic before — until she draws a razor from her bag
>Somehow you’re not surprised she keeps a razor with her
“Y-You’re not gonna kill me, right?”
>She shakes her head and grabs your elbow to steady you
>Her fingers are ice cold
>That’s not natural
>Well neither is getting your wrist cut but Vanessa Doermuth to get magical, Eldritch courage to save the life of your friend, but you’re pretty much ready to abandon reason at this point anyway
>Wait, did you just call Sam your friend?
>”Always remember Anon, when you want to live, it’s across the street. When you want to die-”
>The knife glides cross your wrist horizontally, leaving a budding red slit
>You flinch
>”-it’s down the lane.”
>Blood trickles out of a red slit across your wrist
>Vanessa then takes your hand, twists your arm, and holds the black book beneath your dripping wound
>You watch in silence, heart racing, as a page becomes soggy with your blood
>The goths are all smirking, and you swear they’re about to chant ‘one of us, one of us, one of us’
>With each drop of blood, you feel your heartbeat getting slower and slower
>You no longer evade the goth’s eye contact, but meet them head on
>Vanessa seems to notice, and a smile spreads across her lips
>“You feel It, Anon? The rewards of being on the right side of this conflict?”
“Oh, I feel it, Mr. Krabs.”
>“What?”
“Nothing,” you withdraw your wrist, letting your blood drip onto the concrete. “Are we done?”
>Vanessa nods in affirmation
>“You should be all juiced up and ready to go. Should last a couple of days. Just don’t forget our promise, Anon.”
>You turn your back to them, car keys already dangling from your fingers
>Man, you feel cool
>You feel confident, unafraid to piss them off
>But your mind feels sobered, fresh, not without forethought
“You’ll have your goat tomorrow,” you say, making for your car
>“Good!” Vanessa calls after you. “Because if you fuck us on this, our deal is off, and so is that spell!”
“Like I said, I’m going to help you. But first, I have something important to do.”
>The parking lot is chaos, but you don’t mind. You maneuver cooly around hormonal, potentially magically cursed teenagers
>You flip your phone out of your pocket and ring Mike
>You get his answering machine
>Huh, you can normally get him
>You ring up Alex
>Anyone to help you with what you’re about to do
>“Y’ello?” Alex’s sleepy voice crackles through on the other side of the line
“Alex? You free?”
>“No, I’m at work. But yeah, I can do whatever. What’s up, comrade?”
>The sun was just beginning to set on you, diffusing like a drop of amber into the gathering dusk
>An unnaturally cold wind whips across the car, carrying a handful of leaves against your windshield
>Though the skies are clear, it looks like a storm is fast approaching from the west
“I’m coming to pick you up. We’re going to rescue Sam.”
Oliver Hart
Author of Foxing, Leaves of Fall, Liquid Courage, Beating the Heat, A Red Winter, Weber’s Gambit, and many other stories. He primarily writes hmofa, but dabbles in most genres. Interests include, writing, reading, technology, and music.
Stories: Foxing, The Leaves of Fall