“They say Satan placed two tiny devils in each of Lottie’s eyes, and that the devils’ faces grinned out from behind her pupils, blazing like starlight. Anyone who caught sight of those eyes fell helplessly under her sway.”

  Suddenly, a loud shuffling erupted through the corn. The tips of leafy stalks trembled in a straight line that cut across the field. Something small and hunched lurched across the path, right past the beam of Uncle Jeb’s flashlight.

  Kyle shouted and grabbed Uncle Jeb’s shirt. He wheezed for breath.

  Craig clutched his heart. “Oh my God! What was that?”

  “I . . .” Uncle Jeb looked back and forth. He cast his light along the corn. Stared vacantly between the stalks. “Could have been a fox,” Uncle Jeb whispered. “Could have been . . . a coyote. Anything, I guess.” His jaw fell slack. Orange light danced in his eyes for a moment before the cigarette stub dropped and sparked against his boot.

  Kyle wheezed. He took another puff of his inhaler.

  Craig stared at the darkening sky. He spun around to find the light of the pumpkin patch, the parking lot, the highway, but everything was pitch black now. Everything but stars and the soft glow of his phone. “Uncle Jeb, I think you’re leading us too far away. We should start figuring out how to go back.”

  Uncle Jeb stared vacantly into the corn. “I need to finish the story.” His voice dropped into a hoarse whisper. “So you boys can have some respect for Lottie Lester. What she did. Why she did it.”

  Kyle wheezed harder. His eyes watered.

  Craig held his brother. “Hey, come on,” he whispered. “Don’t be a baby, Kyle. It’s just a story. Calm down, okay? Breathe.”

  “It’s not . . . just a story,” Kyle managed to say between heavy breaths. His inhaler hissed as he took another dose. “You’d tell us . . . if it was just a story, wouldn’t you, Uncle Jeb? You wouldn’t let it get this scary . . . and then not stop, right? Not unless it was really real.”

  Uncle Jeb massaged his temples. He lit a fresh smoke. Took a long drag. Then he leaned over Kyle and exhaled directly into his face.

  “It’s a story,” his voice came out hard and cold. “But a real one.”

  Gray vapors tightened around his nephews. Kyle gagged and waved smoke away.

  “Shall I go on?”

  “No!” Craig shouted. “We’re going back. You’re freaking him out!”

  “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, children, but the only way back is forward.”

  Tears streamed down Kyle’s cheeks. He struggled for air.

  “Don’t cry, Kyle,” Craig said. “Just finish your dumb story, then, Uncle Jeb. Lottie kills the Lester family, and then every Halloween she comes back and takes kids. That’s what you’re getting at right? That’s the whole made-up, stupid story.”

  Uncle Jeb glared. “You think you know everything, don’t you? You think this is all so predictable, huh!” Yellow light swirled over Uncle Jeb’s glassy eyes. Cold air rushed between the stalks.

  Craig gasped. Kyle clutched his brother.

  “Maybe you should finish the story, little boy?” Uncle Jeb growled. His voice scraped like metal against metal. “Maybe you’d do a better job?”

  Kyle jerked his inhaler toward his mouth. Craig helped his brother get the mouthpiece in place. He pressed the canister, and it hissed.

  “I don’t want to finish the story,” Craig whimpered. “Just take us home. This isn’t funny.”

  “I want you to meet someone first,” Uncle Jeb’s voice snarled, doubled-over, as if someone—something—else was speaking with him. He snatched Craig by the collar and pried him away from his brother.

  Craig wrenched free. He pulled out his phone and started to dial 9-1-1, but Uncle Jeb snatched it away and tossed it over the corn. The electric white glow of the phone flipped and vanished between the stalks.

  Craig tried to grab his brother and run. Uncle Jeb snatched his arm and tugged him into the corn.

  “Craig!” Kyle screamed.

  Craig’s shoes scraped mud and dirt. Stalks bent and snapped all around them. Bulbs of hard corn beat his body. Dry leaves whipped and scratched his face. Craig screamed for his brother.

  “I want you to understand something, little boy!” Uncle Jeb’s voice was faint now, a dark evil thing had swallowed it up, almost totally replaced it. “You should never! Ever! Interrupt a good story!”

  Uncle Jeb dragged Craig into a dirt clearing and shoved him onto hard ground. A stumpy, shadowy thing stood with balled-up fists. A nest of wiry hair poked out beneath a tall black hat. Her face was dark, but Craig could tell it was flat and covered in bumps and grooves. Two eyes blazed like tiny stars.

  Craig turned toward his uncle. “Uncle Jeb! Please! We need to get out of here.”

  Tears carved down his uncle’s cheeks. He spoke with Lottie’s voice. “He can hear you, but he only listens to me now.” Uncle Jeb pinned Craig’s shoulders and forced him to look at the impish, shadowy thing.

  “Is this ending more to your liking, little boy?” The voice echoed between the witch and Uncle Jeb. “I wouldn’t want you to be bored!”

  Far back in the corn, Kyle gasped for air. Lottie Lester’s eyes blazed brighter. Hotter. They stabbed right through Craig, pierced his being, and snapped him like a stalk of corn.

  Just What You Need

  by Joseph Benedict

  The smell of stale sex and dead skunk hit Reed from down the hall. A grimace creased his face. He unlocked the deadbolts and swung the door open. Bottles clinked as they skittered across the floor. Lita sprawled on the couch, snoring. A blanket yellow and stiff with dried sweat draped over her. One sagging breast peeked out from under the cover.

  Reed shook his head. Shutting the door, he stepped through the empty wrappers, crumpled paper, and discarded pizza boxes that covered the floor. Glimpses of dingy grey carpeting shone up through small holes in the mess. He reached the hall and unlocked his bedroom door. Most of the time he was home, he spent lounging in his room. The smell was less, but it was beginning to feel more like a cell than a bedroom. He set his wallet down on the dresser, turned, and froze. A shoebox sat in the middle of the bed.

  “Lita!” At the sound of his voice, the rasp of her snore cut off like a switch. “Did you let someone in my room?”

  “What? Reed? Issat you?” Her voice was mushy with sleep. Reed turned and stormed back into the living room.

  “My room! Who was in there?”

  Seeing his face, Lita scurried into a sitting position, clutching the blanket to her chin.

  “No one, Reed. I don’t take anyone in there. You know that! It’s locked.” She stared at him with wide eyes.

  Reed grunted and walked back into his room. He flipped the lid off the box, said, “Then what the hell is…,” and froze. Then he flung the box away with a scream, scrambling back to the door. A huge rat shuffled out, sniffing at his blankets. Bare patches of grey skin shone through its mottled black fur and black scabs ran down the tail. Reeds chest heaved and the room spun.

  “Goddammit, Lita!” Beads of sweat sprung from every pore on his body. “I told you to keep the Johns out of my room!” He turned and stalked down the hall with clenched fists.

  “Reed, wait.”

  Reed froze. The voice was female, but it wasn’t Lita’s husky drawl. There was a clear liquid quality to it that sent tension running from his body. And the voice came from behind him. He turned.

  A woman was sitting at the corner of his bed. Long blond hair curled around her face and spilled over her shoulders. She wore a simple white sundress splashed with pink flowers and green, curving stems. Despite the gloom of the apartment, she sparkled. There was no sign of the rat, but Reed only experienced a momentary twinge of disgust before he was captivated again.

  “Where the hell did you come from?” His voice was a whisper.

  She smiled. “That doesn’t matter. I’m here because you’re missing something. I can give it to you.”

  A laugh burst from him. What he needed was a ticket out of this life, but he doubted she could pull that off.

  “And what is it I’m missing?”

  This time, she just smiled and said nothing.

  A thought snagged at the back of his mind. There was a way to get out of this hell hole.

  “Does anyone know you’re here?” He hoped his voice sounded as casual as he wanted it to.

  “Just you and the woman out there on the couch.” Her lip curled by just a hair.

  He bit his lip and tried to ignore the curdling in his stomach. Then he said, “Give me a moment,” and shut the door. Rushing to the kitchen, he pulled out his cell and dialed Keith.

  ****

  Keith arrived an hour later, puffing and blowing after walking up four flights of stairs. Hauling his girth to the couch, he collapsed in a wail of springs and set his bag down on the floor. He grabbed Lita’s thigh just below the hem of her skirt. She flinched away from him, grabbed a jacket from the back of the couch, and walked out. Keith chuckled when the door shut.

  “So, do you think this will work?” Reed grabbed one of the kitchen chairs and sat.

  “I said it would, didn’t I? I just need some more information,” Keith said. His voice was a perpetual whine. “First off, is she a virgin?”

  Reed shrugged. “I didn’t ask. Like I said, she just showed up in my bedroom. I still don’t know how the fuck she got in there. Does it matter?”

  “Depends on the buyer, really.” Keith sighed. “Most likely it won’t matter. If we snag a guy who wants to check first, we move on.”

  “Ok. What else do you need?”

  Keith reached down to his bag and pulled out a sleek digital camera. “I need to get a picture to show around. If we’re going to get any money out of this, people will want to see what they’re paying for.”

  Reed went to the bedroom and opened the door. The woman was still sitting there on the corner of his bed with a knowing smile. He waved for him to follow and she stood.

  “Holy Christ,” Keith said as they walked into the room. “You said she was beautiful, Reed, but….” He trailed off with his mouth hanging open.

  Keith snapped a few pictures and left, saying he would call when he had some news. The woman never said anything, just smiled. Once Keith was gone, she just turned and headed back to the bedroom.

  “Wait a minute.” Reed stood with his hands on his hips and his brow furrowed. She stopped at the mouth of the hallway and turned back, one eyebrow crooked. “You have to know what I’m up to here. These walls aren’t exactly soundproof. So why are you so calm?”

  “I’m here to give you what you need. If this is part of it, then I’ll go along.” With a smirk, she spun and walked into his room, shutting the door. For the longest time, all Reed could do was stand there with a weight in his gut.

  ****

  The phone rang at nine the next morning. Reed jerked awake in the tattered recliner sitting in the corner. Lita was gone, or maybe she’d never come back. He had a faint memory of texting her to take the night off. When he answered, Keith breathed heavily into his ear, his voice brimming with excitement.

  “Reed, we hit it big!” He started coughing and wheezing. Finally, he said, “Do you know Albert Spanner?”

  “No, should I?” Reed’s entire body shook with impatience.

  “He’s in real estate. Word is he owns a lot of the buildings downtown.” Keith paused and the phone line went silent. When he spoke again, his voice was muted and dull. “There is one thing, though.”

  “What?” The weight in his gut was back, growing dense.

  “I spoke to a few people before I called. Spanner’s got a reputation in our industry. Girls that go to him don’t always come back, and some of the ones that do aren’t usable anymore.”

  Reed said nothing. The image of the woman in his bedroom, torn and disfigured, crept into his mind.

  “The thing is, he’s offering five million dollars.” Keith’s voice was a cracking whisper, like an overexcited thirteen year-old.

  Reed kept quiet. Cold sweat was running down his back. He could see himself down in South Carolina, owning a small bar on the beach, away from all of this squalor. Then he saw those glittering eyes, dull and glazed. Was it worth it?

  “Reed? Are you there?” Keith’s voice jarred him back to the present. He looked around at the filth he’d spent the last six years in. Then he forced the images of the woman’s ruined body, her hurt eyes, into a box, locked it, and threw it overboard.

  “Make the arrangements, Keith.” He hung up and collapsed back into the chair. A numbing buzz spread over his body, and he ran a hand through his hair. As beautiful as she was, as enchanting as she was, she was his ticket out.

  ****

  Traffic was light at eleven on a Thursday night. Keith had called three hours ago with a time and place. Now Reed and the woman rolled through squat warehouses and grungy factories.

  They pulled into crumbling parking lot at eleven twenty-five. Every window Reed could see was shattered. A rusted Ford hatchback sat near the office door. Reed pulled in next to it and killed the engine. The woman sat next to him. She’d said nothing since Keith had left the day before. Now she just stared out the window. The left side of her mouth was still curled into a smile.

  “You ready?” he said. When she turned to look at him, his face burned.

  “Yes. Are you?”

  “Then let’s get in there.”

  The office was lit by a single bulb dangling by exposed wire. It swayed, casting light and shadow with abandon. Spanner sat in a decaying chair across the room with one leg folded over the other. He wore a tan suit that followed the lines of his body like he’d been born in it. Each hair on his head was placed with precision. A briefcase lay open on the desk behind him. Something flashed inside it each time the light swayed in that direction. Spanner rose, smiling, when they came in.

  “Welcome. The picture your associate showed me hardly does her justice!” His voice was silk rustling on a bed.

  “Yeah, she’s really something.” The weight was back in his stomach. He wanted to grab her wrist and run.

  No, he thought. Just get this over with and forget it. Two and half million can buy a lot of forgetfulness.

  Spanner grinned. “You’ll find your money in the bags by the door. You’re welcome to stay and count it, but you may find the experience…unnerving.”

  Reed glanced over his shoulder. Two large duffel bags, black and covered with zippers, sat slumped by the door. He looked at the woman. She was staring at him. Her brows were slightly furrowed as if watching to see what he’d do.

  “No.” Reed shook his head. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  She smiled.

  Spanner turned to the girl.

  “Now, Miss…?”

  She said nothing. Instead, she walked over and took his hand. Reed turned, walked to the door, and picked up the bags. Then Spanner screamed. Reed spun.

  Spanner’s hand was in the woman’s mouth and blood ran down between his knuckles. Something snapped, and Spanner shrieked and jerked his hand back. The woman spat something out. It was a finger. She turned to Reed. Her eyes were black and her face twisted.

  “I know just what you need,” the voice rasped.

  Her skin rippled and turned a mottled gray. She collapsed into a rat, black fur dotted with traces of blond. As she scurried away, pain twisted Reed’s guts and his vision blurred. He felt like he was falling from a cliff. He reached out to catch himself and tried to scream when he saw his hands. Small, pink paws extended in front of him. Brown fur sprouted from his arms. His scream was a wailing squeal. As he landed, the air was ripped from his lungs. He lay on his side, his tiny chest heaving.

  “You bitch!” Spanner’s scream was a roar.

  Pain flooded Reed’s head until he thought his ears would burst. He saw Spanner, towering over him now and looking down with pain and disgust etched into his smooth features. He brought up one massive foot. By the time Reed realized what he was doing, it was too late to move.

  Between Hits

  by Marie Anderson

  I’m kneeling in the shed, cleaning blood off my bat in a tub of soapy water, when something crackles. I look up. My little sister is standing by the shed’s window. She holds a flower exactly like the ones I planted on her grave.

  “You’ve come a long way, Linny,” I say. The cemetery is five miles from our farm.

  She’s brought some of the grave with her. A pulsing, crackling mass of sod, twigs, and soil trails behind her.

  I put the wet bat on the floor.

  “Brought you a flower, Boyd.” She steps closer. The grave debris moves, too.

  “Thanks, Linny. Just put it on the window ledge.” I don’t want her to get close. I’m uneasy about that stuff on the floor behind her.

  The flower stays in her hand. She doesn’t move closer. “Where’s Mama? I couldn’t find her in the house.”

  “She went to Minneapolis. She won’t be back ‘til tomorrow.”

  “Why?”

  “Visiting Bruce. He’s in jail there.”

  “Because he hit me?”

  I nod. Our stepfather was behind the wheel when the car hit Linny. The other three men in the car didn’t get charged. Though they were all drunk. At ten a.m.

  “I put her flower on her pillow, Boyd. Will you tell her it’s from me?”

  “I don’t talk to her anymore, Linny. But I’ll write a note telling her that.”

  “OK. But don’t sign it Love, Linda.”

  “God, no. ‘Course not.”

  Tears well in her eyes. The grave debris crackles louder, oozes around Linny. Towards me.

  “Hey, Lin!” I exclaim. “I’m glad you’re wearing the Hello Kitty shirt I gave you!”

  She smiles. The grave debris falls silent and stops moving.

  “It’s my favorite,” she says.

  She’d worn it every day her first week of kindergarten. One week of school, that’s all she’d ever have to endure. My plan was to drop out on my 16th birthday next month. By then, I’d have all three hits done, so there’d be nothing keeping me here.

 

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