#strange2

[kamiiri]

When Nervous finally gained back the ability to open his eyes, he was relieved to find that he was no longer stuck in that terrifying black void.

But then he realized that he didn’t recognize the cluttered trailer he was standing in now either. A young boy sat alone nearby, watching cartoons on a blindingly bright television screen, seemingly unaware of Nervous’s presence.

“Son,” the booming voice Nervous had heard before called out. The cloaked creature approached him and ghosted a bony hand over the small of his back, gently guiding him outside. Nervous took one last look over his shoulder and found that the boy seemed to be staring directly at him. Could he…see him? Nervous would never find out—he’d already been led to the backyard. “It is time for you to learn your true purpose.”

[kamiiri]

“Huh? What are you talkin’ about?” Annie questioned as her brother slowly helped her up from the floor.

Virginya made a series of faces at Annie as if to speak some secret, silent language that only the two of them could understand. Then she said slowly, “Hoot here has gotten it in his head that Nervous…is the Night Beast.”

Annie stared at her brother in absolute disbelief. Mention of the Night Beast had shut her up completely. The revelation roused concerned whispers from the saloon’s patrons.

“It’s all makin’ sense to me now,” Hoot began to explain. “I always thought there was somethin’ off about the guy. And then he suddenly goes missing? Just when more and more complaints of a beast start turnin’ up?”

“I tried to tell him it didn’t make any sense,” Virginya said to Annie. “The beast is just a beast. There’s no human in there.”

[kamiiri]

Annie stumbled into the Nighthowl Saloon the next evening, nearly collapsing with each step. When Hoot saw the state of her, he immediately abandoned his customers and rushed over, calling out over his shoulder, “Virgie, get me some water over here!”

But before Hoot could reach his wavering sister, Virginya had already saved her from falling, pulling her into her arms and settling on the floor. Onlookers were shocked by how fast Virginya had gotten to Annie—it seemed almost supernatural—but Hoot didn’t notice.

“Annie,” Virginya said, her voice soft, velvety, full of worry. “Annie, what happened? What happened to you?”

“I’m just tired, is all,” Annie mumbled.

Hoot finally plopped himself down next to them with a glass of water in hand. He tried to bring it to Annie’s lips, but she moaned and shook her head.

“Annie, I was worried sick. You look awful. This is the most hungover I’ve ever seen ya,” Hoot gently scolded.

Annie’s eyes shot open wide as she yelled, “I’m not hungover! Hootie, you’re not supposed to tell a girl when she looks awful!”

[kamiiri]

“Didn’t I tell you the thing looked human?! Think about it, Virgie! He always did look kinda beast-like, too, didn’t he? Didn’t he?!” Hoot badgered.

Annie finally spoke up. “Well you can’t kill him, Hootie. He’s already dead.”

“Dead?”

“Yeah, dead. Dead as disco. Dead as a doorknob. That’s why I’m so SAD!”

Hoot raised an eyebrow. “So you didn’t see a body?”

“No, I didn’t see his damn body. What’s that got to do with anything?!”

“I’m sure that bastard wants everyone to think he’s dead!” Hoot exclaimed, looking around the room and beckoning toward his customers for support. They seemed to enthusiastically agree with him, their drunken cheers hurting Annie’s ears.

[kamiiri]

Grim turned and gave a small nod. “Yes.”

“Am I…”

“Dead?” Grim said, cutting the man off. “Yes.”

“What happened to me?”

“Is it not obvious? Drowning, I suspect.” The reaper grabbed the book that was kept chained to the belt of his cloak, and he flipped to one of its gray pages just to be sure. He let out a low hum as if he’d read something he hadn’t expected. “Fascinating. It seems your pool ladder simply…” He trailed off as he looked right at you. “...vanished.”

The man appeared distraught as he explained, “But I can’t die. I have two sons, and…and we don’t have much. I finally started goin’ to AA. My wife, she needs me.”

“I’m afraid it does not matter. Your timeline has been sealed. This limbo you find yourself in now—time does not exist here. Your death has both not happened yet and happened years ago. Your family will mourn you and has already mourned you.”

“My oldest is the only one home,” the man went on, paying no attention to Grim’s nonsensical explanation. “Dusty can’t find me like this.”

“It is inevitable.”

The man was about to argue or scream or cry, but he simply sighed, apparently defeated, and asked, “So what happens to me now? Is it really over for me?”

“Now you will cross over. My son will assist you.”

[kamiiri]

Before Ophelia could think of a response, she suddenly felt a presence in the room.

“What the hell is that?!” Ripp shouted.

Black smoke manifested out of nowhere, and from it, a transparent figure appeared. Ophelia stared into the ghost’s bulging eyes as it screeched out in what sounded like absolute agony.

“HeLP mE! PLeASE!” it shrieked. The apparition’s cry was jumbled and distorted as if it had been thrown down a garbage disposal and mashed up by its merciless blades. The disembodied voices of a man and a woman, echoing and impossible to decipher, circled around the room like bloodthirsty hyenas. Ripp and Ophelia huddled together, speechless and horrified. And just as quickly as the thing materialized, it shrunk into a little smoky ball of electric bolts and evaporated entirely.

[kamiiri]

Hoot furrowed his brow. “Then what the hell’s the matter?!”

“I’m so tired,” Annie complained, her words lagging as if she were stuck in slow motion. “And I’m so…SAD!”

“Sad about what?”

“It’s Nervous…Hoot, he’s—”

“I know, Annie. I know. It’ll be all right, trust me,” he interrupted.

Annie sniffled and said, “I think it might be a little too late for ‘all right.’”

“Nonsense!” Hoot exclaimed. “I promise I’m gonna catch him one of these days. And when I do, you’ll never have to worry about him again.”

[kamiiri]

But Nervous lowered the weapon.

“I can’t do it,” he reasserted, incessantly scratching at an itch deep within his arms that he could never seem to reach, an itch that felt like it sat just beneath his olive-colored veins, an itch that grew more maddening with every passing second. “I just can’t.”

The man opened his bleary eyes and smiled, desperately clinging to hope. “Does that mean I get to live?!”

“No.” Grim stole the scythe out of Nervous’s hands and swung it down hard, cutting through the man’s torso. The wound began to smoke, and before he could beg for his life any further, the man evaporated, leaving only the echoes of his screams behind. “Perhaps you will need more training than I anticipated.”