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Author's Chapter Notes:
i hate site formatting almost as much as I hate myself, wrote this for halloween last year but only got like four paragraphs in and it turns out grief is a powerful motivator 

—When you got the call

That no one wants to have

Sick of hospitals

To paper over cracks

You weren’t scared at all

But never turned away

Well fuck ‘em, fuck ‘em, fuck ‘em, fuck ‘em all—

A chill ran down his spine.

His hand ached, fingernails bitten to the nailbed.

Why, oh why hadn't he listened?

Kyle

His eyes, moist with tears, sorrowfully looked at the headstone. His feet dragged through the well-kept grass.

I’m still here

I should have done more.

I should have tried harder.

Why didn't I--

You left him alone

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He whimpered, lip trembling as tears threatened to spill over.

It was your fault

His stomach knotted and turned as he quickly threw down the small bouquet atop the grave.


Kyle cracked open the leather-bound book and placed pen to paper. His therapist suggested it may help him think or sort out the emotions of the grieving process. The same therapist Dan had visited before his--

Kyle swallowed back the bile collecting in his throat.

"Today I only had one instance of screaming and survivor's guilt."

I wake up and it's cold and I think I can see him, in the mirror standing behind me, waiting for me blaming me

his skin is pale

his eyes swirl between the deep blue of life and milky white of death

it came for me

"I went to a meeting meant for people dealing with grief tod

there was a long, deep scratch mark on my window

ay, I think it may really help with my healing. They tell me that I really couldn't have known.

IT WAS YOUR FAULT

I still doubt that."

YOUR FAULT

Kyle signed at the bottom of the entry before closing the book and sighing.

YOUR FAULT

He set the book down and found himself wandering into the kitchen.

YOUR FAULT

His face contorted with regret as he brewed a cup of tea in a fruitless attempt to calm his nerves. He sipped, eyes closed and hands trembling as guilt wrenched in his chest. A few scalding tears slipped from his eyes.

don’t ignore me

Kyle's heart skipped a beat.

He glanced up.

The cup slipped from his hands, cracking against the tile floor.

The dark tea spilled across the tiles, mingling with a mysterious brown liquid that assaulted Kyle's senses with the stench of advanced rot.

Kyle's blood froze in his veins.

Standing in front of him

was Dan.

"K....kkh--g...Kyyyyyyyy--" It rasped in a voice that sounded as if it hadn't been used in years. "Ky--le... Ky----le... K--?" Its neck cracked as it tilted its head, milky eyes seeming to request a response.

"You're not real go away." Kyle said through grit teeth without pause.

The corpse, looking exactly as he had that day, save far gaunter and more sunken, raised an arm and pointed accusingly.

"Y...ou.... could.... have--sssss----me." slurred off a rotten tongue.

"I... what?" Kyle asked in a tiny voice.

"YOU COULD HAVE SAVED ME!" It shrieked. "YOU COULD HAVE SAVED ME! YOU COULD HAVE SAVED ME! YOU COULD HAVE SAVED ME!"

but you didn't

Across from Kyle something smashed the window, grabbing the living corpse by the waist and pulling it through. Dan screamed in the voice he had possessed in life; one Kyle knew well. The sound chilled him to his core. A crack resounded through the night air, followed by what Kyle suspected were a cruel mimicry of Dan's final moments.

The screaming finally stopped with a squishy snap.

The air was still.

Kyle slid down the cabinet behind him until he was sitting, letting out an anguished sob.

—There’ll be no bad days

You’ll have no more bad days

When you’re gone, gone

There’ll be no bad days

You’ll have no more bad days—

 

Lying in bed, Kyle stared aimlessly at the ceiling.

scritch

scritch

 

 

scratch

His mouth ran dry. It's not real. It's not, it can't be. Dan died from a horrible combination of binge drinking and pills and it's not--

"Let me in, Kyle."

No.

scraaape

"Please?"

Go away.

"Pleaassse?" Kyle froze, eyes pricking with tears. The elongated plea slowly mutated into a mockery of a voice he knew all too well.

"You'renothim you'renothim you'renothim you'renothim, you're not, you're not, you're not, YOU'RE NOT!" Kyle screamed. "YOU'RE NOT HIM, BECAUSE HE'S DEAD!

"Kyle..." It whimpered, "Help... Help me. HELP ME KYLE, HELP ME!"

"SHUT UP!"

Fists banged against the glass of the window.

Fists?

No...

A single slender finger pounded against the glass until it shattered, showering the floor in a hail of glass.

"Hey."

A perverted, whispery voice casually snuck between the glass shards. A pearly white grin glinted under the artificial light of the streetlamps. Lined up, the majority of her teeth would have reached Kyle's knee.

Kyle began to hyperventilate.

"Goawaygoawaygoaway--"

"Kyle." Deep and smooth, his skin prickled when he heard it. "What's wrong? Why are you on the ground? .... Why're you crying?"

"I-I--"

Kyle cautiously cracked open one eye.

"...I-It's you." His voice cracked, tears springing to his eyes as he gratefully took Dan's hand and pulled himself off the floor. “Th-Thank God… Thank God, I-I thought…” Tears began to stream down Kyle’s cheeks, staining Dan’s shirt a darker shade of grey, “I thought you were…

A horrible stench assaulted Kyle’s senses, slimy, stinking fluid bubbling through the fabric of Dan’s shirt and crawling down Kyle’s hand.

Dead?”

A bead of cold, clammy sweat raced down Kyle’s back as he turned to face the thing he dreaded most. Those perfectly shaped pink lips, hiding just behind them certain death, puppeteered Dan’s every word it seemed.

“…No…” Kyle whimpered.

You should have believed me.”

“No…” He fell backwards as the gorge of his own guilt rose.

But I’m dead.” The facsimile rasped.

Kyle found himself cowering, screaming at the top of his lungs as the monster’s finger plunged into his room, The nail sparkled the deep purple of a midnight sky just before it rammed and speared its way through Dan’s belly, painting the razor tip with gore.

“Look.”

“N…” Kyle heaved, frantically pushing back vomit, “N-No.”

Look.” Dan said, not flinching in the slightest as she wrenched her nail like a key, splattering and spilling blood and guts all over the pristine floor.

“I did it to him, and now?....”

Kyle flinched, screwing his eyes tightly shut as he felt warm air encompass his back.

“Now I’m going to do it to you.”

DON’T!” Kyle shrieked, intaking sharp breath. “N-Not… real… Y-You’re not…. You’re not real…”

He froze, cautiously uncurling and finally daring to turn around.

 

Kyle wished he hadn’t.

A wide, feral grin encased his window, blotting out most of the light. Two jean-clad legs and sprawling, desperate hands kicked and slammed against the impossibly enormous teeth that kept him pinned.

 

Dan’s torso and forearms fell unceremoniously to the floor. Thin, black appendages like spider’s legs crept seemingly from beneath its gums, hemming strewn bits of flesh and entrails into its mouth with the same motions a spider would use to build a web.

“He was stupid.” It asserted. “Stupid, breathing, meat.” Strings of thin, brown drool rolled down her lower lip. “Sweet, delicious meat, warm blood spilling from your wounds… Squirming, writhing bodies sliding down my throat—”

“Stop.”

“I’ll gouge out your eyes and tear off your jaw, suck the flesh from your bones and rip out your guts—!”

BE QUIET!” Kyle screamed, heaving amongst the menagerie of gore and severed body parts.

Searching the darkness with teary, bloodshot eyes, Kyle saw nothing.

No blood.

No limbs.

No monster.

No Dan.

Kyle breathed a tense sigh of relief.

Fucksake…” He groaned, lowering his face into his hands, “Fucksake, I must be cursed… This is because I didn’t listen, isn’t it? Some guilty conscience shit because I didn’t listen to him…. Gh—Fuck.” He wracked his brain for some kind, any kind of a solution. Taking a deep breath, Kyle pulled a worn cardboard box out from under his bed. Dan’s mother had given it to him after the funeral, saying Dan would have wanted him to have it. Kyle opened one of many spiral-bound notebooks, filled to the brim with neatly written lyrics. He flipped through a few pages, his stomach cramping with painful nostalgia. Not there. Kyle opened another. Not there either.

Finally on the fifth notebook about halfway through was an impressively illustrated picture of a stringy-haired female. Her eyes were filled with blood, as if every capillary had simultaneously burst. The edges of her eyes were rimmed with grim, sickly green bruises. The mouth… Dear God, the mouthlike some bizarre hybrid of a human and a snake, a thin webbing of ligaments the only thing keeping its jaws chained together, having been near completely cleaved in half. The words “true form?” were written beneath the image in all capital letters in Dan’s own handwriting and underlined twice. Swallowing hard, Kyle turned the page and discovered Dan seemed to have begun using it as an impromptu diary, spanning approximately three months before his death. Kyle gnawed the remnants of his fingernails and started reading.

July 14th

All I can see over and over is that monster flaying them alive. My back being carved open, the crippling cold, my intestines splayed, and I feel all of it.

I see Will being crushed to death, over and over and over again.

Even now I have a slicing phantom pain against my spine and twisting a knife in my belly.

There’s something dark floating on the edge of my vision.

I need a doctor.

 

July 30th

The pills aren’t working. It’s still here. It’s outside my window, have to keep watch. I tried to tell the doctor what it says to me, but she says it’s just auditory hallucinations and everything’s going to be fine. The new pills block her out sometimes but that only gives her more opportunity to plan, I should probably stop taking them.

 

August 5th

The nightmares have gotten worse. I can feel it eating me. It’s dark and hot and everything burns and no matter how much I scream no one can hear me. There’s no air and all I can do is sit there as my flesh melts away. No God, please no don’t let it happen again

 

August 8th

can’t sleep

 

August 19th

Nightmares

won’t

stop

can’t think

can’t write

can’t breathe

 

September 1st

I told Kyle about her today. About what I saw, what she did to him.

Kyle flinched uncomfortably, a small, agonized noise erupting from his throat.

He said I have an active imagination, and, taken as a metaphor, it would be an interesting song.

 

September 7th

I have to stay awake.

I have to.

September 14th

Two months since this absolute nightmare began and no one believes me. I can’t take anymore I can’t I can’t I can’t I can’t

I just want it to end

Please just let it end

 

September 17th

I tried to slit my wrists today.

 

 


I woke up.

 



September 25th

I tried to tell them again, to make them believe me but it was useless.

I tried to warn them.

Some friends.

 

October 1st

She’s outside my window

 

October 2nd

I can hear her breathing

 

October 3rd

I can feel her breath on my back

 

October 5th

how can a mouth do that?!

 

October 6th

Oh god oh jesus christ

 

October 8th

haven’t eaten

haven’t slept

Kyle noticed the final entry was smeared, printed blue guidelines warped and crinkled by abundant water stains.

 

October 14th

Three months now. Three months I’ve tried to get help. I’ve tried everything.

But it was worthless.

 

This     is            the                           end

 

Kyle paled, slamming the notebook shut and throwing it against the wall.

It’s not my fault.” He whimpered. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry…”

He dragged himself down the stairs, deciding it would be safer to sleep on the couch where he couldn’t feel her staring at him.


—Stop signs, run ‘em

Bills, don’t pay ‘em

Who would care at all?

Burn your money

Ain’t worth nothing on your curtain call—

 

The soft dripping and wet splatter is what made Kyle open his eyes. Immediately filling his vision was a chasm of pink and red glistening wet. A clear, disgusting liquid dripped from within, coating Kyle in sticky fluid.

Pure terror filled Kyle’s chest as, in a single moment, he realized what he was looking at.

Did you really think you could run from me?

He flinched, eyes quickly tearing away from the horrific monster mouth. It was…

Dan couldn’t.

It was in his head.

“God no… Fuck, no… Get out of my head! Get out, get out, GET OUT, GET OUT!

Something pale gripped its tongue and slowly went about extracting itself from her throat.

It was an arm.

It was D—

Kyle could barely find the time to scream as his friend grabbed him by the wrist, pulling nearly half his body into the giant mouth with inhuman strength.

“You should have listened.” The grotesque mockery wheezed. “But now it’s too late. Too late for me, and too late for you.”

The pain came to Kyle gradually, excruciating as it was. Trapped in the damp, disgusting dark, his mind was slow to realize the pooling warmth wasn’t saliva but rather his bodily fluids and organs spilling from an open chest onto her tongue as her cruel teeth had relieved him of his lower half. Through his watery, fading vision he watched Dan disappear effortlessly into the throat. Kyle groaned softly in agony as he became hyper aware of his own innards trailing behind him like party streamers as he was pulled further and further back by contracting musculature and icy hands, the monster eager to embrace a meal of fresh meat. Kyle whimpered quietly as he heard the audible swallow, bitterly surmising there was no going back now. He closed his eyes, letting out a sob as he was dragged into Hell by someone he’d considered a friend.

When Kyle awoke, he found himself screaming as his nightmare was seemingly reality. Hot, humid darkness embalmed him, smothering him as he desperately gasped for air. He flailed, crashing to the floor and tearing the blanket from his face as he took in a deep, desperate breath.

He was alive.

He quickly checked over his body, vivid nightmare already threatening his sanity. Never before in his life had he been so grateful to have legs.

Seconds from panicking, Kyle picked up his phone. He had to tell someone.

“CHRIS!”

“Nnnghh… Hullo?”

“D-Dan was…” Kyle choked, “Dan was telling the truth.”

“…ngh… What?

Kyle suddenly got the feeling he was being watched and shuddered at the thought, continuing in a cramped whisper.

“He was telling the truth. There’s something here. S-Something… horrible. I don’t know how it knows, but it knows. It knows I’m looking for it. It’s waiting for me, waiting to kill me just like it killed him. C-Chris…” He stammered, already crying with fear, “Chris, you have to help me. I-I don’t…” Kyle made a tiny, nearly inaudible whimper, “I don’t wanna die.

You can’t escape me.

“Kyle, have you been drinking?”

“Wh--…” He stammered. “This is SERIOUS! How can you say that?!

“You sound nuts.”

I AM INEVITABLE

A little, pathetic moan squeaked from Kyle’s throat as he caught the glimmer of far too many teeth on the edge of his vision.

It’s coming for you, too.” Kyle said ominously after a long pause before hanging up the phone.

—So your future’s lost

But they can’t take your past

Well fuck ‘em fuck ‘em fuck ‘em fuck ‘em all—

 

Kyle saw Dan, looking surprisingly normal, leaning against the doorframe.

“He didn’t believe you?” Dan quirked an eyebrow and smirked. “Tch. No one believed me, either.” He walked calmly towards Kyle, eyes slowly filling with blood and illuminating through the darkness. Grabbing Kyle’s wrists, he leaned in close enough that Kyle could see the madness in his eyes and the beads of tar dripping down his chin. “Doesn’t it hurt?

“How much longer do I have left?” Kyle murmured, pulling his hands out of the monster proxy’s grip, pouring a crystalline glass full of whisky and downing it in one go.

“‘til she gets bored. And right now…” It leaned into his face, making him flinch, “You’re not being very fun.

“Why us?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” It answered smugly from outside the window, nearly making Kyle jump out of his skin. The words sounded wrong, slightly mumbled and slurred at the edges as if she had difficulty pronouncing them, and he could see why. He watched in mute terror as he stared back at a never-ending wall of human teeth, as if someone wasn’t content with the amount and decided it should be doubled. Seeing his terrified expression, it feigned compassion. All that did was make Kyle’s stomach flip. “Aw, do you not like looking at me? Why not? Because I’m going to rip your face off? How about I bring him back?”

“K… Kyle….”

Kyle threw his whisky glass at the shimmering apparition out of sheer reflex. It only gave a slight, pathetic cry as the cup phased right through him.

No… You have to be another trick; you have to be… It’s not… You’re not—”

“I was so fucking stupid.” The ghost berated himself. “I wanted fame so badly I didn’t think about the consequences for a second. N-Now—we—” Dan was cut off by a throat-rending scream, He writhed in agony.

“That’s… enough.” She said curtly. “I want what I’m owed.”

Dan’s spirit was seemingly released from the hold his master had on him. Ice plunged into Kyle’s heart, spreading through veins he wasn’t even aware of as Dan attempted to place comforting hands on his shoulders.

“I’m right behind you.” Dan murmured as if he knew there was no way out and had given up. “It’s…” His face twisted into an epitome of sorrow, “… It’s easier if you don’t fight back. We both know there’s no getting out of this.” Kyle nodded slowly, closing his eyes and climbing over her lower incisors, surrendering fully to what happened next. Darkness surrounded him; a sickening cacophony dragged him down, down, down into the abyss of smothering liquid fire, truly Hell on earth. And yet, even as his nerves were eaten, his senses, his very being rotting away, the sensation of two warm, comforting arms wrapped around his waist stayed until the end.

----

Chris yawned, lazily glancing at the paper in front of him. He warily eyed the sticky note pasted to its corner.

“YOU MADE FRONT PAGE, CONGRATS”

“SECOND MEMBER OF FOUR MAN BAND FOUND DEAD”

“The victim’s eyes and lower jaw have been removed, as well as his tongue ripped from his mouth. Neither the victim’s eyes nor jaw could be found at the scene of the crime, it is currently theorized—"

“Oh fuck.” Chris said quietly. “Oh fuck, oh no—”

---

Chris trudged into the living room, hands shaking as he tried futilely to calm himself down.

“He can’t—H-He’s not dead, this is just some fucking sick freak’s idea of a joke.” Chris asserted in a wavering confidence.

Chris blinked.

There was a black, leather-bound book open in the middle of the floor.

“That…” Chris stammered in utter bewilderment, “Wh-where did that come from?” He picked up the book out of morbid curiosity. Chris yelped in surprise as little black bubbles seeped into the paper from beneath, as if coming from within the book itself. “Wha… What the fuck? I-It’s… Ink?”

It’s dark. It’s dark and everything around me is burning, I am burning everything hurts in a way I could never have even imagined in my wildest nightmares. Something thin and wiry crawled under my skin and I can’t get it out, pulling it only makes it grip on tighter and its barbed teeth tear out my flesh

I can see the others in the darkness, they’re standing there, smiling at me, as if they’re telling me everything is going to be alright. Dan says that he’s sorry, that he wishes he hadn’t done it, that he wants to wake up. Just to wake up. I want to, too.

It’s so hot and it won’t

Seconds become minutes become hours become days become years

Always burning

Always suffering

Is this

Is this forever?

It was so easy to give in.

There’s no point in fighting it anymore.

There’s nothing we ever could have done.

A chill crawled down Chris’ spine as he realized as he read that the light was slowly fading from the room, despite it being a cloudless early morning. He refused to look up, refused to acknowledge the two abominations in the shadows waiting for him, an eyeless, jawless monster and a sickly pale black and blue freak.

A repulsive stench overcame Chris’ senses. Out of the corner of his eye he saw a bead of thin brown fluid race down the window. He let out an anguished whimper, falling to his knees and covering his mouth to keep from vomiting as his mind finally came to understand the words smeared on the outside of the glass.

There was no hope.


—There’ll be no bad days


You’ll have no more bad days


When you’re gone, gone


There’ll be no bad days


You’ll have no more bad days when you’re gone—

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