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“So I don’t know EXACTLY what I’m reading here, but I think I have the gist of it: something bad is going to happen on Halloween, it’s got something to do with the moon, Vanessa Doermuth–“
>“The goth chick?” Mike cuts in
>Obviously that name invoked something sour in his mind, because his already darkened mood darkens further
“Yep. She’s behind this whole thing, or is a target for some ‘blood debt,’ but she’s involved somehow. I’ve been reading this thing all last night and since I woke up this afternoon, and I don’t think any of what’s going on is just coincidence.”
>Do you sound crazy?
>Guess you might as well go full conspiracy-theory mode inside this Burgershack
>”I’m not following still — how are the jocks and goths involved?
“So the goths hate the jocks and preps, right?”
>“They hate everyone, dude, and everyone hates each other,” Mikes cuts in again. “It’s just… so retarded. Everyone is so retarded.”
>Well, he’s not wrong
“Right, but yesterday I saw Trevor Nelson and Jordan Leery fighting in the lunchroom. The goths were there. And then, Alex, what’s been happening with the estrus cycles of the cheerleaders around town? That can’t be coincidence.”
>Your commie friend isn’t convinced. “How do you know it’s just cheerleaders? It could be anyone. Most anthros have pretty strong estrus cycles. It’s like scent based, right?”
>Mike tells him what you two saw coming into the store, and Alex can neither confirm nor deny because he was hiding out in the break room after Mr. Smith came looking for him, presumably to send him to the gulag
>Time to drop your manifesto
>Well it’s not really yours, but this should help
“So last night I did some reading-“
>“Thought you were pounding your girlfriend,” Mike says sarcastically, making a stroking motion with his hands
>You flip off Mike and pull the red book out of your coat pocket and slide it across the table
>You crack another energy drink while Mike and Alex flip through the red book together
“You ever seen Donnie Darko? The Philosophy of Time Travel that Grandma Death gives Donnie? This is… I don’t know, think of this book kinda like The Philosophy of Time Travel. There’s weird shit happening all around — we all saw it — and this book helps explain a little of what’s going on. It’s not just coincidence.”
>Even though you did eventually find sleep in the end, it wasn’t a pleasant sleep. You kept waking up with your stomach in knots, the mid-morning sun high and bright
>Guess you still had a hard time swallowing this whole thing
>Or it’s the energy drink
>You shrug and choke down the neon green slop, trying to shake off the tired feeling weighing on your eyes
>“Did you highlight this?” Alex points at the inscription in the inside front cover
“Yeah. Last night. Said I couldn’t sleep. That’s what has me most worried. I know it seems like I’m drawing a lot of conclusions here with how people are acting and behaving and how I think it connects to this book, and all, and… just the stuff we saw, and… fuck-”
>You take a long, long draw on your energy drink
>You turn into a motormouth when you don’t sleep
“I know that this is confirmation bias on my part, all of what I’ve explained to you, but this part in the front worries me the most. I’m certain that there’s this other book out there. This book is confusing; all I know is that it’s connected to something else.”
>That was very eloquent, good job Dr. King
>Alex raises his hand
>“Where did you get this? It looks like something the Unabomber would have written. It’s cool, don’t get me wrong,” Alex says. “Love the revolutionary feel.”
>You almost crack and say Sam found it, but you hesitate, that name dying on your tongue
>That’s right… Sam
>He could be dead
>The idea of you being culpable in the murder of your classmate makes your stomach hurt so bad you absolutely crush your energy drink
>Do you tell them about Sam’s house?
>You don’t know if telling them what you saw would help or make Sam’s situation worse, so you decide to test the waters
“Sam found it in the bathroom, I guess,” you say as casually as possible, “and he left it in my car when I dropped him off last night at his house.”
>But Mike doesn’t care about that stuff, he cares more about teasing you. Why? Because he’s a cock-faced asshole
>“Speaking of, how did your little boyfriend do last night? He seemed pretty rattled by the whole thing with the lights and the book.”
>You can feel yourself going red in the face, either from anger or…something else
>Oh god, fucking fujoshits are actually getting to you
“Okay, he might be gay, but he’s not my boyfriend, and I don’t swing that way. He’s just a weird kid who needs a friend,” you say, a desperate plea to return to reason
>But Mike, who knows just enough to push your buttons, does not listen to reason
>“Why put a name on it, right? Did you two at least say ‘no homo’ before?”
>Lost in his own world, but with good intentions, Alex interjects
>“C’mon Mike, it’s literally the current year. Don’t be so homophobic.”
>Sometimes you can’t tell if he’s being ironic, sincere, or stupid
>But with Mike, you can always tell when he’s trying to be a dick
>Like right now, making you bite your tongue, since he’s had an attitude since last night
>Still, you know they’ve both got your back, and it’s been that way for years, and you wouldn’t trade them for the world
>A pimply faced teenager drops a tray of fries between the three of you, momentarily easing the tension
>Mike digs in and starts eating
>“So Anon’s gay and is banging a rabbit. The goths are going to end the world, the school is full of horny cheerleaders, and somehow these two little books are the center of it all. Did I get all of that right?” He spews fries across the table
“First of all, I am NOT. GAY. FUCK,” you jab a fry in his face
>“No need to get so defensive, Anon,” he laughs. “I’m just saying, if the shoe fits?”
“I am not defensive, you dipshit. I am one-hundred percent NOT GAY,” your chest catches with anger as you defend your heterosexuality
>Mike cracks a shit-eating grin, and you want to smack it right off his face
>“Sure Anon, we believe you.”
>Alex, known for his listening skills, tells you it’s okay to be gay and that he doesn’t mind
>You throw a fry at his face, and you hope it hurts; he plucks it off the table and eats it
>You’re going to kill these two one day, holy fuck
>It then occurs to you: Mike was the one who organized this whole thing
>Did he bring you and Alex here just to tease you?
“You didn’t bring me here just to be an ass, did you? You were the one who called this meeting,” you say, glancing between Mike and Alex. “Cause I have a lot of sleep to catch up on.”
>Mike’s expression darkens
>He sets his handful of fries back onto the table, finishes chewing
>“Look, I know I’ve kind of been a dick lately, to both of you, but mostly Anon. But last night…”
>He pauses and scans the room, as if his next words were on the wall
>“You know I don’t believe in magic, God, all that shit- but last night, I think we all saw something that should have us worried. I don’t care about the other kids, but I do care about you guys, and most importantly, I care about graduating.”
>Seriously? This is why he’s been so standoffish lately?
>“Something fucked up is happening at this school,” he declares, a cold kind of determination creeping into his voice. “And we’re going to stop it.”
>You pause. You hadn’t thought of actually getting involved
>In fact, you risking your skin for anyone else other than these two is so far removed from your personal narrative that it’s practically unthinkable
>Ultimately you just wanted to make them aware of this bullshit so they could avoid it
“I hadn’t thought about… stopping it… I figured we could just ride this one out, try to keep from getting turned into hospital patients or something. If what we’ve already seen is any sign of what’s coming, we need to be as far away from school as possible, especially on Halloween,” you conclude
>Mike shakes his head
>“No way in hell.”
>You clench your teeth, biting down on nothing — though you wish it was his neck
“What about class? Your grades? We can’t be chasing ghosts all week.”
>You know he’s bordering on a D in science
>“I’m going to be fine to graduate. But I’m not running from this. Haven’t you ever wanted to do something bigger than just… going to school, drinking, smoking, talking shit about people?”
“Don’t be stupid Mike, you have NO IDEA what you’re messing with here,” you reason
>“I don’t. But Vanessa Doermuth does.”
>You’ve activated his trap card
“What?”
>“Vanessa Doermuth. Rail thin, reeks of Menthols, likes blood, hates mostly everyone but us — her name was on the wall last night.”
>You tried going back to that night, searching through your mind for what sleep hadn’t obliterated, and what had survived the painful events after
>And there she was, her name underneath those two horrible figures, alongside a few others
>But hers was the biggest, the gaudiest, the ugliest, the most ignoble looking
>Vanessa Doermuth
“And your plan is?”
>Mike clears his throat and cracks his knuckles
>“Anon you’ve known me for how many years?”
“Too many,” you exhale, knowing what’s coming next
>“Right, too many years, and I’d have thought that by now you’d know I never have longterm plans, only short term ambitions-“
“-And balls the size of cantaloupes,” you say without enthusiasm
>Mike smirks
>You’ve been practicing this dumb routine with each other since freshman year of high school
>“Right-“
>“That’s BULLSHIT!” Alex slaps the table, and you’re pretty sure that he even made the tray jump a few inches
>Also you may have let out a few little drops of piss
>…
>What? Your nerves have been fried ever since last night.
>“There’s no way that you’ve got balls that big. You’d be like… on the internet or something.”
“Not now dude,” you say. “It was just a joke.”
>You don’t have the energy to deal with Alex right now
>God, your head is pulsing with noise
>Where was Alex during this entire conversation?
>You need to sleep badly
>You try to tune in to Mike and Alex’s conversation, but it doesn’t feel possible
>It goes in one ear
>And out of the other
>Mike is saying something to Alex, drawing little things on a napkin with his finger
>Alex nods harder, enraptured by what Mike has to say
>Unlike you
>Everyone and everything in this burger shack looks and sounds like it’s a million miles away
>You kinda feel like that guy from Fight Club. What was his name again? Cornelius? T-
>Alex yet again smacks the table, shaking you from your pretentious day dreams, causing everyone in the restaurant to stare at your table
>And that’s a lot of very spiteful glares, especially from anthros
>You feel like a tiny island nation about to get bombed
>Alex, unconcerned or unaware, loudly continues on
>“How can we sit idly by while this injustice robs from the cradle of our youth? Who will lift the flag of the gentle laborer? Who will rend these chains from around our necks? Certainly not the fascist PIGS of our father’s generation, the RABID WOLVES of the capital throwing them the bones of our generation for slop!”
>…
>Holy fuck, what is wrong with this guy?
>Actually, you know what? That was fairly poetic
>But it doesn’t deter stares. In fact, it only intensifies them, especially from the few canines nearby
>Like the golden retriever and his family, who crowd behind the father as they exit the building
>Though the father is trying to smile and explain to his kids compassion for the retarded, you catch his concerned glare that says ‘please control your child’
>Luckily dogs are known for their friendliness
>Thank God it wasn’t a Wolf, who might have been liable to rip your face off and eat it
>You try to apologize with a non-verbal expression
>He nods in understanding and pushes his wife out the door
>You try to shush Alex, but he’s gone completely off rails
>Mike can do what you can’t, and that’s get Alex to stop raving
>“Comrade Alexi, save it for college!” he says, shaking Alex by the shoulders. “Right now, you sound more pretentious than Anon usually does.”
>Alex lowers his fist like it was a revolutionary’s flag
>“Sorry,” he says, red in the face from exhaustion and soap boxing. “I just got so wrapped up in the injustice of it all.”
>“No, no, that’s good! Save that energy, Alexi. We’ll need it for later,” Mike nods, obviously pleased by Alex’s enthusiasm for whatever it is he’s enthused about
>Mike then turns to you
>“That’s why I brought you here, to talk about this, and what we’re going to do about it. If anything impedes me and my diploma, I swear on my sister’s non-existent virginity that I will destroy whoever is involved. We’re solving this shit, I’m graduating, and then getting the hell away from Halloween Town.”
>Fuck
>You kinda expected Alex to care, but not Mike ‘I could give a shit’ Sapone
>Especially to be so serious about this
>They both look at you expectantly
>“Well?” Mike says
“Well what?”
>“Are you going to stop this with us or do you have to go be with your boyfriend?”
>“Yeah Anon, think about how important these kids are to the revolution!”
>Thank you Alex
>You suppress a groan
>You don’t want to get involved, but it looks like you have no choice; these morons will probably get themselves killed without you
>And if they die, you’ll have to put up with Sam by yourself
>The realization makes you pause
>You had almost forgotten that you left him there by himself last night
>Still hard to believe that all happened, huh?
>Making a silent resolution to at least check in on him at school on Monday, you nod your head at Mike and Alex
“Fine. I guess we’ll save the world or something,” you offer weakly, outnumbered and outgunned
>Mike scowls
>“Or something?” He mimics you, adding some nasal congestion for flare
>What the hell? Why is he doing this now?
>“That’s seriously all you have to say about this? You were THERE last night, and that’s all you have to say?”
>What does he want from you?! What is with this sudden aggression? First, last night, and now this?
>Your grip on the table and meet his stare
>Yeah, that’s right. Get angry. Didn’t you see how he was looking at you? Say something. Defend yourself. Call him a manlet. Break something. This isn’t fair!
“Sorry-” you exhale, swallowing that bitter feeling again
>You can feel your balls shrinking up in defeat
“Didn’t sleep well last night.”
>Mike nods,
>“I swear,” he says, voice dropping to a terse growl, glaring around the room, lingering on everyone he can find — including you, “I will break every finger on the hand that did this, and the neck of the one who keeps me from graduating.”
>You’d rather not get involved
>You’ve said this a trillion times
>Yet you sigh in defeat
“I… I’ll try talking to Vanessa on Monday. She at least doesn’t outright hate me.”
>That was enough to satisfy Mike
>Alex declares that he has work, but to stop by whenever, because ‘The oppressor’s supplies are our supplies,’
>Alex hops on his bike and starts grinding up hill towards his home instead of work, waving you both goodbye
>Conversation between you and Mike becomes more friendly, but there’s still an air of slight tension hanging over you two as Mike slides into your car
>He promises you that if you could talk to Vanessa and lure her somewher-
>You cut him off
>Assault, kidnapping, and violence are out of the question right now — especially as a human-on-anthro crime
>“Yeah, but I bet she’d be into it,” Mike laughs, a little more unrestrained now that the plan is settled
>Which gets a laugh out of you
>Yeah, Vanessa would absolutely be into that
>You can’t stop thinking about Sam on the drive home. You wish you’d told Mike and Alex about what you saw. You could have at least told Mike before you dropped him off, but you didn’t, because you don’t know if he’d be able to take it seriously
>When you started to talk about Sam, he just snickered a little, so you shut the fuck up almost instantly and threw the car into a sharp turn
>Mike neglected his seatbelt, as usual, and the sound of him thumping into your unfurnished car door made you less angry
>It’s not like he could help, anyway. And Alex would do something catastrophically dumb. And the police were probably a no-go, because Sam’s dad looked like the type who’d get himself and Sam killed in a police shootout
>The insane thought of ‘rescuing him’ yourself pops into your head
>His dad does not know what your real name is or where you even live… it might work…
>An image of you princess-carrying Sam away from his burning house sticks in your mind’s eye for longer than you’d like to admit before you violently shake away the gay thoughts
>Fuck, you promise yourself you’re going to do some pushups and shotgun a beer when you get home to feel less gay
>The street lamps flicker on as you clunk into your neighborhood, but you drive slowly, not in a tremendous rush to get to your vacant house
>Plus the neighborhood has this nice orange glow to it from the various lights and decorations your neighbors had set out
>Sam had probably never really seen Halloween decorations, or been in a home that celebrates any holidays, so you can see why they might have caught his eye
>And the Spooktober Fest is something that he probably wanted to go to. It’d be his last chance at any real high school memory-making before graduating
>You start to feel bad about not wanting to go with him or anything, because as much as you think it’s lame, you can understand why he’d be so interested
>Still, not how you’d spend your Friday ni-
>You slam on the brakes when the realization hits you
>The Spooktober Fest is on Halloween night
>October 31
>31
>Whatever is going to happen, it’s going to involve a lot of students as well, not just people that the goths might hate
>You hear that annoying little voice in your head that’s too loud for Alex and too quiet for Mike
>Your conscience
>You crank the music and try to drown it out on the way home
>“Hey, coward. When are you going to grow a pair?”
>“You’re just going to let whatever happens happen?”
>“Always too scared to-“
“SHUT THE FUCK UP!” you scream
>Your shaking right hand finds the volume knob on your car’s stereo
>The music can’t go any higher
>“-too scared to get involved.”
>“Playing it off…”
>“…Like you don’t care…”
>God, you need a distraction
>You pull into your driveway with the music at a blistering volume, thumbing through the contacts on your phone
>Let’s see…
>Alex
>Mom
>Dad
>Mike
>Jenna Orthorn (Fox from science class)
>Leo
>Nah
>You slide your phone into your pocket, kill the car, and just sit there, forehead smashed against the wheel
>What you feel right now is kind of a mix of rage and sadness — the teenager’s cocktail
>Everything feels like it’s falling apart on you
>Mike’s turning into something else — will you even talk to him once he goes to college?
>Are you going to college?
>You’re going to be all alone, like usual
>Like Sam
>“Do you care at all?”
>You put your hands on the steering wheel
>If only to stop their shaking
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