Nightmare to Scream for on Friday the 13th
Enjoy this fun little tale about Friday the 13th.
“Do you like scary movies?” the voice on the other end of the phone asked me.
“Who is this and why the hell are you calling me?” was my response.
“Y’know the best scary movies, right?”
“The ones directed by the Wayans brothers and not the other three?”
“Naw, naw, the very best scary movies are the ones with those really hot girls like you who get killed at the beginning.”
I pulled the phone away from my ear for a second and stared at it. This guy did know he was talking to a guy, right? I held it to my head again. “Look, I really don’t know what the hell you called me for, but you should probably - “
The bastard cut me off. “Please, sugar, don’t say another word, I’ll be over in just a bit…” After that, the phone cut off. The guy didn’t hang up, it cut off, like the asshole had cut the phone line outside.
Except that he’d called my cellphone.
Now I was somewhat concerned. I dropped my phone on the kitchen table and walked out into the hallway to grab my baseball bat. It hung on the wall, a keepsake from my Little League days. It wasn’t exactly the largest bat, but it was solid wood and would leave a pretty nasty mark on whoever it was that called me.
I walked into the living room and saw my TV was on. I’d shut it off when I went into the kitchen to eat and watch YouTube videos on my phone, but there it was, showing an assload of static. What the hell?! Never did I imagine answering a phone call would lead to this sort of thing. Was I dreaming? Was I hallucinating while face down in my bowl of cereal?
Something flashed by on the TV. A ring shape, or something. Okay, so whatever was fucking with me had seen too many movies. If I could be genre savvy about this, maybe I’d be able to get through this weird ass fever dream. Maybe I’d wake up and forget all this, who knew? I sure as hell didn’t.
I waited for the inevitable ghost or evil spirit or ghostfaced killer (or Ghostface Killah, if at all possible) to show up, bat at the ready. I knew if I sat at the chair, I’d have seven days to live or something like that. I didn’t want to take the risk, even though I knew this was just some crazy dream.
“Hey, honey,” a voice said. Deep, yet scratchy, almost like Freddy Krueger’s. It came from behind me, so I spun around and swung the bat -
But there was no one, nothing there. What the hell? I turned around again and saw the TV was off, the house quiet again. Had I just made all that up in my head?
No, I couldn’t have. Why would… Dammit, I didn’t even know what questions to ask myself. This was fucking insane. What the hell was going on?!
A hand touched my shoulder. “Playin’ hard to get?”
I spun with intent to swing yet again, but this time the bat fell out of my hands.
Because my hands were smaller, more delicate. With bright yellow fingernail polish.
“What the hell?!” I screamed. My voice wasn’t mine at all. It was higher, almost to the point of being screechy. What… What the fuck? What was happening?!
The figure before me was tall, cloaked in black from head to toe, though his face was a white amorphous blob with similar, smaller black blobs that had to be his mouth and eyes. His hands were huge, his fingers blade-like, which now made me wonder if he’d cut me when he touched me. Long tendrils hung around his head like hair. He was thin, maybe thinner than a five year old child.
It took me a moment to figure his schtick out: He was an amalgam of a few different slasher movie creatures.
He knelt down to meet me eye to eye, and I realized for the first time that I had shrunk some. I’d been five-foot-seven, kinda short for a guy, but not mockingly so. If I was taller than five-foot-even right now. I’d be amazed.
“So… Sweetie… Do you like the scary movies where the hot girl dies in the first ten minutes?”
If I was right about the changes my body had gone through, I was likely the hot girl he was talking about.
I somehow found the seconds necessary to pick the bat back up and swung it into his face. Much to my astonishment, my move actually worked. He grabbed for his face where I’d hit him and doubled over, so he was now almost my height.
I didn’t waste my opportunity to run. I bolted down the hallway to my bedroom door, burst through… And found myself somewhere that wasn’t my bedroom. It was a bedroom, but not mine. I lived in a decent suburban house that I rented for a fraction of the usual price because the landlord was my uncle. The bedroom I was now standing in was log cabin to the end, almost to the point of ridiculousness. There were creepy-ass trees out the window and lightning flashing every other few seconds. There was another door on the… West wall? I honestly didn’t know the cabin’s orientation, but in my house, it would be the west wall.
I turned around and saw that the door I’d just come through was closed, despite the fact that I hadn’t closed it. I reached for the knob and made certain that it was locked, then I did the same with the other door. Granted, not like a door would stop a supernatural entity that had snuck into my house, turned me into a girl and then transplanted me into a cabin in the woods somewhere, but it was peace of mind.
There was a full mirror in the corner that I wasn’t quite certain had been there moments before, but I didn’t give a shit. I needed to take stock of what I looked like now, needed to see my face and make sure I wasn’t some scared little girl (even though I kinda felt like I should be). What I saw was pretty much exactly what I expected.
I had gone from a mildly overweight (199 lbs), five-foot-seven, shaggy brown haired guy to pretty much the stereotypical horror movie victim girl. My initial idea of five-foot-even was probably spot on, and there was no way I weighed more than 110. My tits were almost obnoxiously large, same with my ass. My hair was now perfectly straight, blonde and hit my mid-back. My eyes had been brown but were now light blue, and of course I had makeup on.
The clothes I’d been wearing were a simple shirt and cargo shorts, but now I was clad in a damn near skin-tight pink and gray striped shirt that exposed my very perfectly flat stomach and really emphasized those boobs and a pair of tight faded jeans with holes at the knees. I had only been wearing shorts before, but now I was wearing pink boots that were thankfully not heels.
Oh yeah, the girl in the mirror would definitely have killed in the first ten minutes of any slasher movie. Maybe she’d make it half way through, then she’d have sex with the teen heartthrob and probably get sliced in half by a chainsaw right at that perfect midsection. The guy would likely have just left her while she’s still on the bed or couch, and a bed sheet or blanket would be optionally covering her just before her death in order to keep the movie rated R instead of NC-17.
(And, of course, her tits would be completely uncensored on the unrated Blu-Ray release, assuming of course this wasn’t a direct-to-video release in the first place.)
I heard a phone ringing. It took me a second or two to realize the sound was coming from my back pocket. Then it took me a second to realize my phone could fit in my back pocket. I pulled it out of the pocket and saw I somehow had that ghostfaced fucker as a contact, and that his name was Terrance.
“Hey, babe, I’m a little not so happy about WHAT YOU DID TO MY FACE!”
I laughed. “Oh, so I actually hit you? Yippie.”
“Oh, you’d better be excited, bitch, because I’m gonna fuck you up bad.”
I fake shivered, despite him not being able to see it over the phone. “Oh, I’m so very scared, Mr. Terrance, please don’t hurt me!” Where the hell I’d gained this confidence from was a question I had no intention of giving a fuck about, I just wanted to piss this asshole off.
I heard him laugh on the other end. “Oh, trust me, bitch, I’m not gonna hurt you… I’LL MAKE YOU FUCKING SCREAM REALLY FUCKING BADLY!”
I made a tsk noise. “We’re gonna lose the G rating on this flick. Listen, Terrance, I don’t really wanna play with you right now, so, please, just send me back home and let me get back to my life, okay? Terrance?”
He laughed, a disgusting, guttural thing. “Oh, don’t worry, you little moist slit, I’m gonna play with you so hard you start beggin’ for me to break you!”
Jesus, this was starting to sound like foreplay. I had no one to blame but myself, really, as I’d started it. Regardless, I hung up the phone, as I was done talking to that freak.
I needed something to use as a weapon, but a quick glance around the room revealed nothing of use. Presumably, Terrance had set this place up so that I’d be the unsuspecting victim in this whole farce. There wouldn’t be any need for weapons, as I’d never believe anything would happen to me. I’d be completely helpless.
Too bad for him I had seen plenty of slasher movies.
I set to work breaking off one of the legs to the bed to use it as a makeshift bludgeon. I tore some of the curtain off and tied it around the end of the leg, just in case I found something to use to light it on fire. I was gonna try to be prepared for anything, though considering Terrance seemed to be magic, I may miss something.
I took a deep breath and brushed some hair away from my eyes with one hand. Time to see what I was up against.
I opened the door and found myself in a very well lit hallway, at least 85% window. It was still pure night time outside, but the lightning flashes provided a good source of illumination. The forest outside looked as though it could decay at almost any time, like it was on the verge of death. I assumed that was just Terrance fucking with me some more.
I took my steps slowly, cautiously. I didn’t want to be jump scared by that sonuvabitch, but considering his schtick and the fact that was all somewhat genuinely frightening, he might have still had a chance to make me shit my pants. I wasn’t completely in control of my faculties, here.
The first door I came upon was to my right, on the same side of the hall as all the windows. I tried to peek into the other room’s windows, but the lights were off and the shades drawn. More than likely, he’d try to get me in there, but he also could have had a backup kill planned for another room in case I didn’t go in this one. I didn’t know how genre savvy he was, just as he didn’t know how genre savvy I was.
I opened the door to the next room with a mix of dread and expectation. I knew something would happen, but I didn’t know what. I tightened my grip on the bed leg and stepped into the room. From what I could see after my eyes almost adjusted, the room appeared to be a pleasantly furnished reading room or library. I saw at least one bookcase and a large arm chair. I couldn’t see anyone or anything else, but Terrance was magic, and had been an amorphous black shape anyway, so he could very well have been hiding.
“Terrance…” I said, my voice all flowers and singalongs. I wanted him to feel a false sense of comfort, that I wasn’t prepared for him. He didn’t make himself seen, however, so I merely continued traversing the room. I bumped into a chair and let out a loud groan.
And heard a giggle.
The sound came from behind me, to my right, by the door. “Terrance?”
He giggled some more. “Aw, don’cha just know me?”
I pet my arms slump a little, but didn’t lower my guard. “What the hell?”
He stood up and held his hands in front of his mouth, almost as if covering his laughter. “Aw, c’mon… You know what I mean…” In almost the space of time it took me to blink, he was right in front of me, his face less than a centimeter away from mine. “Don’t you know me so well, sweetcheeks?!”
I backed away from him. “You need a breath mint.”
He breathed into his hand. “Seriously? I just brushed my teeth, too. I’m sorry, this is just embarrassing, we’re going to need to start this over again. Do you mind leaving the room and coming back in?”
I felt my eye twitching. “What the fuck?”
“Look, this… This needs to be perfect, okay? I’m only allowed to do this on certain days, and it’s… It’s my only release…”
Now I let my guard down a little. Just a little. “What?”
He sighed, then snapped his fingers (assuming he even had fingers; I honestly could barely tell what his hands were) and the lights were on. I was now sitting in a chair, the bed leg to the side and a clipboard in my hand. He was lying on a couch, twiddling his thumbs (I could now tell he had thumbs). It took me a second to realize my outfit had changed. My top was now a relatively tight blouse that was left unbuttoned enough to show a larger amount of cleavage than I was ready to accept and my pants were replaced by a dangerously short skirt. My boots were also now high heels. I was sitting with one leg crossed over the other, and was honestly quite grateful for that because where Terrance was sitting, he could have seen my underwear. Hell, knowing him, I may not even have been wearing underwear.
He sighed again. “Y’see, it started when I was younger. My father was a drinker and every time he came home pissed out of his skull, he’d beat my mother and me. Mom always told me to suck it up and be a big boy about it, because that was easier than fighting back, but I couldn’t help being disgusted by what Dad was doing to us.”
I leaned forward. “Are we… Are we really doing a therapy session?”
He turned his amorphous blob face toward me. “I’m talking here! I paid for a whole hour!”
“Okay, okay, fine. Go on.” Why the hell I chose to play along was both confusing and yet not of importance to me. “So, do you think this need for… Whatever the hell it is you do started because your father beat you?”
He nodded. “I do. I just… It wells up inside me, y’know, and then the need to get it out just makes me fidgety and irritable. I stay away from my wife and kids when this happens, I feel it spares them the pain of seeing me like this.”
“You have a wife and kids?”
He sighed a third time. “Look, honeybuns, if you’re not gonna play along, this really isn’t gonna work, so,” he snapped his fingers again and the room was back to perpetual darkness and we were right back to where we had been standing before, “then let’s just get back to this part. It’s honestly more fun for me, anyway.”
I didn’t ready myself to fight just yet. “Hold on, I really don’t get all of this. What the hell do you want? What are we here for? Maybe explain all of this and I’ll play along.”
He did nothing for a good long time. I swear I heard birds or crickets chirping, but we were in a cabin in the middle of a forest. However, there was a thunderstorm going on outside, so I assumed the sounds were magic or something. Again, he snapped his fingers and the lights came back on. I realized then that I was still wearing the sexy therapist outfit, though he hadn’t turned the room into a therapist’s office again.
“You really wanna know why I’m doing this?” he asked.
“Well, yeah, I kinda do. I mean, I was sitting in my house eating a bowl of cereal and I was a guy and then you call me and turn me into a girl and try to do this whole stupid slasher movie thing. I mean, what exactly are you, anyway?”
He tapped at his chin. “I won’t lie, none of the others have ever asked that question.” He pointed at me. “You may very well be my favorite victim, Hot Girl Number Seventeen.”
“I’m going to ask you never to call me that again.”
“Fine. What’s your name?”
He scratched at his chin now. “I’m just gonna call you Sarah.”
I rolled my eyes. “Fine, call me Sarah, I don’t care.”
“Right, Sarah, I’ll get right down to the point. You wanna know why I do this? Well, it really was because of my father. Not my biological father, of course, because I don’t have one. I’m a demon, and I was created by Satan.”
“You’re a duh…”
“Yes, a demon. This may surprise you, but there are otherworldly beings on your Earth. We range from angels and demons to succubi and witches and shit. Hell, there are even ghosts, if you can find a place with enough energy to manifest them.
“We’re not creatures who advertise ourselves, obviously, because humans barely understand themselves, let alone something outside themselves. Honestly, would you believe any of this if I hadn’t turned you into the gorgeous babe you are now?”
I sighed. “I guess not.”
“Exactly. So, there are two kinds of otherworldly beings: The boring ones and the fun ones. The boring ones just live their lives and don’t do anything worth anything. Maybe they help people save cats from trees or some shit. The fun ones, ones like me, are here to do stuff for… Well… Fun. We just get out and do shit and we don’t care about the consequences.
“Which leads us to today. To what I do. Y’see, I’m a really fun guy. I take girls, like you,” he pointed at me for emphasis, “and I make ya go through this horror show for fun.”
I simply stood there, arms folded under my breasts. “Okay,” I sighed out, “first off, this is not fun. And second, I was a guy before this crap.”
He shook his head. “No, you really weren’t. You appeared that way, but you were really a babe. See, there’s lotsa people out there who aren’t what they think they are, and the only way to know is through magic and shit. But that’s beside the point, the point is… This is a game and playing it is my fetish.”
I made a hold on gesture. “Whoa, just… You had to leap into that, didn’t you?”
“Of course. I’m not human, but I’ve got needs, just like you do. Unlike you, I can’t just finger myself, so I’ve gotta do this.”
“And I really can’t enjoy this if you don’t enjoy it.”
I blinked twice. I was almost certain it was audible. “Enjoy this?! Being dragged into a real life slasher movie is not fun for me!”
He took a step closer to me. If he had a face, he would have been smiling. “You lips say it’s not, but your nipples say it is…”
I had the strongest urge to just hit him with that damn bed leg. “I swear I’ll kill you if you say something like that again.”
His ‘face’ was definitely in the shape of a smile now. “Oh, now we’re gettin’ into it, sugar tits, I haven’t been this hard since April!” He snapped his fingers and the room was nothing but darkness and silence again. From somewhere, nowhere and everywhere, I heard him say, “Let’s get to the main event, baby! Enough foreplay!”
Jesus Christ, he was apparently horny as fuck. What had I just started by telling him I was gonna kill him? Hell, could I kill him? He was supposedly a demon, after all. Maybe now was the time to do the smart thing and find a door or break a window and make a damn run for it. He wouldn’t see it coming, most likely. Then again, he could probably hunt me down no matter where I went.
Honestly, I had no idea what the hell I was doing, and I didn’t know how to handle that.
I kept a firm grip on the bed leg and moved along the dark room. I was fairly certain Terrance wasn’t in the room, otherwise he would have said something. If I could count on the bastard to be just one thing aside from creepy, it was noisy. If demons were ever kids, I assumed he was the annoying one who never shut up.
I found a door on the opposite side of the room from where I came in. I saw a tiny amount of light peeking in from the next room, which told me at least one lamp was on. I took a deep breath, let it out, then opened the door. I immediately regretted that decision.
The room I entered was just disgusting. There were no two ways around that, it was gross. It wouldn’t have looked out of place in a slaughterhouse, which was probably exactly what it was. Across from me were two large, bathtub-like sinks, both stained with blood so old it had turned brown. The wall behind the sinks was adorned with all kinds of hooks, knives, anything that could cut. On the right hand side of the room was a butcher’s gown, and on the left was another door. There was a window in the door, and that window was frosted over, so I assumed that was the meat locker.
I put my hand to my mouth, ready to gag at the sight of everything. No, not just the sight, there was a stench to it all. Terrance had used this room recently enough that his last kill still smelled fresh. Hell, for all I knew, her body was still in that meat locker. I needed to be out of this room, and I needed it right away.
I turned around and grabbed for the doorknob, but it was gone! Not just the knob, but the whole door was missing, replaced by a brick wall. Goddamn Terrance had used his magic to do it, I was certain. I slammed my fists against the wall like it would do something, but of course it didn’t. I had only one choice, and that was to hope there would be some way out through the meat locker. Well, technically I had two choices, but sitting down on the chopping block and praying it was quick wasn’t an option so far as I was concerned.
One thing was certain, I was switching weapons. Now that there was a wall of knives and sharp, pointy things in front of me, I had plenty of options. I dropped the bed leg and grabbed a red handled machete that looked an awful lot like one on The Walking Dead. I assumed that was Terrance’s point there. A quick glance at the other weapons on the wall showed that Jason’s machete was up there, too, as well as the axe from So I Married an Axe Murderer and the knife from Psycho. Terrance had built up a collection of movie and TV stabby things.
I walked over to the meat locker and wished to hell I didn’t havta do this. I was also wishing that dumbass Terrance had given me shoes that weren’t four inch heels, because walking around on a half frozen floor would be a pain in the ass in these things, if my last girlfriend’s complaining was anything to go by. With the machete in one hand and the other on the door handle, I slowly and carefully opened the door to the meat locker.
I was greeted by exactly what I expected, and yet still more than I wanted to see: The frozen bodies of other girls he’s killed in his ‘happy time’. There were dozens, almost more than I could count. They ran the gamut from blondes, brunettes, redheads… Body shapes were all over the place, too, with some girls being skinny, others being fat and everything in between. None of them seemed to be chopped up in any way, though I saw cuts and wounds on all of them.
I took cautious steps, not too fast, and inspected each one as I walked past them. I didn’t recognize any of them, but that made sense to me. Presumably, none of these girls had looked like this when they arrived, and if what he’d said about people not being what they are was true, some of them had been guys like I had been.
My thoughts turned to the families of these girls. Had their parents, children, husbands or wives even known? Had they simply up and disappeared one day never to be seen or heard from again? If the news was to be believed, more missing persons cases were left cold than they were solved. So many of them could have been this bastard and his sick sex games. Would my family know? Would they just assume Shawn had stopped calling and fallen off the radar? The only family member I was still somewhat close to was my older brother, and that was only when he needed a place to stay when his wife was being a cunt.
The idea that they’d never know what happened to me filled me with dread and disgust.
No, I was getting the hell out of this little sex shop of horrors, and I was gonna put an end to that sick fuck and his games.
Just as I was at my most determined, that bastard popped up from out of the floor and knocked me on my ass. “FEED ME, SARAH!” he screamed at the top of his lungs. Thanks to the fact that I was a little disoriented by his sudden appearance, I failed to notice the four knives he was wielding in his four hands. I also missed that he had four hands. The bastard adequately jump scared me, and I hated him for that.
One of his knives trust forward, which I barely managed to avoid. It tore the sleeve on my blouse and drew a decent amount of blood. I attacked with my machete and actually cut one of his hands off with it. That was pretty damn surprising, as I figured he would just amorphous blob his way around it and keep cutting at me. Maybe this piece of shit could go down, after all.
I got back to my feet as he recoiled and grabbed his injured hand. “You bitch!” he screamed, “What the fuck?!”
I smirked. “I thought this got you hard?”
“I’LL SHOW YOU HARD YOU SLUT!”
I was not gonna take that. I ran toward him, as much as I could in this damn freezer, and shoved my machete deep into his chest. Something that may or may not have been blood started oozing out of the wound, covering my hands. I twisted the knife, deepening the wound.
He kicked me with one leg as he attempted to slice me with a couple of his knives. I felt at least one slash down my back, but I ignored it. Instead, I pulled out the machete and cut off another two of his hands. He screamed in pain, fell to the floor and rolled away from me. It took less than a few seconds for me to be alone in the freezer, aside from all the dead girls.
“That’s right, asshole, you run!” I shouted, in a pained voice.
After a few minutes, I collected myself and followed where Terrance had gone. He left a trail of that blood-like goo that came out of his wounds that led to around a corner to a door that was solid metal. I had no idea where it led, but I didn’t care. I wanted the fuck out of there.
I was starting to really feel the cold now, as opposed to before where it was just a minor annoyance. I went to rub my arms for warmth and felt the blood seeping out of the cut on my arm. I’d need to deal with that and the one down my back. I couldn’t feel that one at all.
I opened the door and found myself in… A little kid’s room. Race car posters on the wall and dinosaur toys on the desk made me think of my bedroom. The place looked like a decent place for a kid to spend their childhood. I walked over to the desk and picked up the little tyrannosaurus toy. It looked a lot like mine when I was little.
That was when I realized it: It was my T-rex toy. I was standing in my bedroom. The bed was covered in those same Power Rangers sheets, and that ‘No Smoking’ sticker I put on the window when the school was passing them around during DARE week. I couldn’t believe it. The fucker had recreated my own past for some probably shitty reason.
In fact, I imagined I’d find out the reason if I turned around. What clued me into that was the giant shadow that suddenly loomed out of nowhere.
“Like it? I made sure to pour on the nostalgia.” He put his hand on my shoulder. “So, ready for the climax, fuck buddy?”
I pushed his hand off of me. “Don’t touch me, you freak.”
He laughed for almost a full minute, then lowered his head and got right in my face. “Oh, I’m gonna touch ya. I’m gonna touch ya, and I’m gonna stick every last thing I can in every hole I can. You’re gonna feel it all, and then you’ll die and you’ll keep feelin’ it until you get wherever it is you’re goin’ and then you’re gonna be another trophy in my meat locker.” He was smiling so very widely. “I can’t wait to see the look I freeze on your face in the middle of it all!”
I put my hand between us. “Wow, you still haven’t taken that breath mint yet.” I sighed. “So, you done monologuing yet?”
He shrugged. “Eh, basically. Why?”
“Oh, I just wondered when you were gonna notice.”
I smirked. “The machete stuck in your crotch.”
He backed away from me and looked down at the red handled machete that I had indeed stabbed him with during his evil monologue. The look on his ‘face’ told me that he hadn’t even felt any pain until I’d pointed it out to him.
He looked back up at me, his voice suddenly taking on a higher pitch. “Oh, you cunt…”
I grabbed the handle to the machete and started pulling upward, cutting up from crotch to his chest. I then pulled the machete out of his chest and brought it down on his stupid amorphous face. Finally, I pulled the machete out of him again and dug it into his neck. He squirted out more of that black goo that he’d been secreeting earlier. I then did the most badass thing I’d ever done in my life prior to or since he changed me: I roundhouse kicked the sonuvabitch in his split face.
He fell back against the recreation of my bed and groaned loudly. He clearly still wasn’t dead, but I didn’t think he’d be able to do anything to me. I knelt down beside him and patted him on the shoulder.
“You tried, Terrance. You really tried. I’ll give you that.”
“I hate you,” he said, his voice both high pitched and strained.
“Good to know, now send me back to my life.”
A third voice entered the room. “I’m afraid Terrance can’t do that, M’lady.” I turned around and saw that the wall that should have been there was replaced by a hellscape of blood and fire. Standing there were two figures, both as different from one another as Terrance and I were from each other. The one on the left was dressed almost obnoxiously flamboyant, in a button up silk shirt and tight pants. He was floating above the ground using his little bat wings, and his head was adorned with horns. Next to him was a large creature with a dragon-like face, at least a seven foot wingspan and somewhere around ten feet tall. His hands and feet were both clawed, and he had a tail that was almost bigger around than Arnold Schwarzenegger's arms.
This guy looked like a demon.
Surprisingly, it was the demon who spoke. His voice sounded something like Clint Eastwood after smoking fifteen cigarettes in a five minute span of time. “I, on the other hand, can.”
“Who are you?” I asked, my voice tiny.
“To my right is Ziminair, and I am Ahriman. He is the caretaker of Hell, and I am its guardian.”
“Certainly Terrance told you?”
“Told me what?”
The demon sighed. “For chrissakes, Terrance, you were warned about doing this again!”
I scratched my head. “Doing what?”
“He’s not supposed to bring you here without explaining that this is just a game. He’s not allowed to legitimately kill people, not after the Dark Ages.”
“Well, he did sorta use sexual innuendo to kinda convey that message.”
“No, it’s in his contract that he’s supposed to tell you that this is nothing more dangerous. The game goes until one of you ‘kills’ the other.” He used air quotes to emphasize the kills part. “After that, you wake up in your house on the fourteenth and continue on with your life.”
“So, this… This was all basically a dream?”
“To an extent. It happened, but as far as the world is concerned, it didn’t happen.”
“And what about him turning me into a girl?”
I sighed. “Jesus Christ, fine, I guess. Am I gonna havta explain who I am to my friends and family?”
He scoffed. “Of course not. Your reality has been suitably altered.” He turned to the gay guy. “Ziminair, arrange for her passage back to the mortal plane.”
The gay one sighed. “Why is it he gets to have all this fun and I just have to clean his mess?”
“While Lucifer’s away, we need to delegate the tasks around here, and you picked this one out of the hat, so shut up and do your job!”
The gay one grabbed me by the arm and started pulling me. “Fine. I’ll take this human back to her cesspool. Maybe the next one will get killed and I won’t have to talk to her.”
I yanked my arm out of his grip. “Hold on a sec!” I shouted. “So… What exactly just happened? Some stupid game this asshole,” I pointed to Terrance, “plays whenever he needs to yank it for a day? Because this whole thing was crazy as fuck.”
The demon nodded. “That’s a basic way to explain it. You see, Terrance is only allowed to satisfy his desires every time the thirteenth of the month lands on a Friday.”
“Friday the Thirteenth? Seriously?”
“He got the idea from some movie he watched on Earth one day, no one really wanted to indulge him, but you have to understand that he’s both insistent and he asked for it on his birthday. Demons can’t deny requests when they’re asked for on the requester’s birthday.”
I stood there and merely blinked. “Okay, Hell is not like I expected.”
The demon nodded again. “There are so many misconceptions about it, honestly. People might actually choose to come here if they actually knew about it before they’ve died and their afterlife is chosen for them.” He motioned for me to go away with his hand. “Now, if you’ll be so kind, please go back home. We’re going to have to redecorate Terrance’s domain before the next thirteenth Friday. Luckily we’ve got until September of next year before that happens, because you really screwed this place up.”
The gay one grabbed me again and I was pulled away from the recreation of my childhood bedroom.
I awoke and immediately shot upright, on my bed, in my house, nowhere near Terrance’s little corner of Hell. The house was dark, quiet, completely undisturbed. It was exactly as I’d left it when Terrance had grabbed me. It was almost as if I’d been here the whole time, which was probably exactly the point. It would explain why disappearances on Friday the 13th were probably never reported, if they never technically happened.
I checked my arm for the cut that Terrance had given me and found it was gone, as if he’d never touched me at all. I breathed a sigh of relief that I’d never havta explain that to anyone ever. I let myself fall back into a lying position. The falling back caused my boobs to jiggle a little bit, though.
So I shot straight up again. I know that demon thing had said I’d be stuck like this, but for some reason it hadn’t actually clicked with me until then. I was still a girl, still had big boobs, still looked like I’d be the perfect slasher movie victim. I was wearing a silk nightie that emphasized that body almost as much as the two outfits Terrance had put me in had. I sighed again. Guess I needed to live my life this way from now on.
On my nightstand, my phone started buzzing. I reached for it, saw my mom’s face. I slid the phone icon from left to right and held the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“Sarah, honey, I know it’s late, but I just needed to call.”
I sighed. Oh, yeah, reality was different now. I didn’t even know my new life. That would be a pain in the ass. “It’s okay, Mom.” I moved the phone from one hand to the other and over to the other side of my head. I took a gamble that at least one thing hadn’t changed. “Hey, remember when you told me I should have taken creative writing classes in college? Well, I’ve got an idea I think I’m gonna turn into a book.”
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