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A (17:18)

By you the plane touched down at Anchorage International and it would be a short drive to get to the park where I would be stationed. I was greeted by a friendly face who I assumed to be Abigail. She was a frail woman, most likely in her late 50s, but had this fire in her eyes. She didn't look tough, but I had to assume she was a lot stronger than her appearance put on. Behind her was a man about my height and a little more muscular. I assumed he would be training me or working with me at my post. Neither of them said much other than exchanging basic pleasantries, and I was instructed to follow her to the van that they had arranged for transportation. The minute I stepped foot out of the airport, I was in shock. Alaska was absolutely, absolutely beautiful. I had seen pictures of it before, watched a few shows on television when I used to have cable, and of course seen plenty of YouTube videos that people put out there. But it's just so much more incredible in person. The trees in the distance, the chilly air that just felt so much fresher than the city air, the dynamic of people in the area all felt so surreal. It truly felt like home, home, something I really needed at that point in my life. We got in the van, a small white transit that definitely showed some signs of use, and headed north towards Denali National Park. I sat next to the muscular man whose name I learned to be Zeke. Abigail had left a bit earlier. I guess it was just me and Zeke right now and the person driving the van who had a weird love for classical music. I put one of my earbuds in, knowing that I probably wouldn't get a lot of time to listen to music during orientation and enjoyed the drive as the sun started to sleepily duck down under the huge snow capped mountains to my right. Eventually we got to the ranger station. It was a small building, but from the outside it looked very inviting. The walls were made of wood and the lights had a yellowish glow to them. There were windows on all sides and a little check in desk for those who were driving through. Surrounding the ranger station were towering green trees which I recognized to be primarily white spruce, and to the left a bit there was a building that looked like some form of bathroom connected to a garage. I had gotten to know Zeke a bit on the ride up. He was pretty quiet, but we had a lot of similarities. He was only a few years older than I was and had also been kicked out of his house by his family, although he wouldn't tell me why. Zeke grew up in Montana in a small town near Glacier national park and fell in love with the surroundings. He told me he had been working for the national parks for a year now and was bumped up to one of the lead positions at Denali. I really felt like I could get along with Zeke, although there was something a bit off about him. It felt like he was hiding something. It had to have been the voice. It sounded as if there was some underlying fear or anxiety in his tone. Oh well, he seemed to be a really good person and I'd be working with him indefinitely, so there was an obligation to get along to some extent. If something happened to one of us, we had to be able to depend on the other for help. I wasn't used to this and I knew it wouldn't come as easy as the textbooks make it feel, but it was something I could work towards. As the van pulled up to the garage next to the facilities, I motioned to get out, but Zeke reached over me and pulled the door shut once more. You're not stopping here, he said with a grin. You'll be stationed in a tower about five miles north in the forests. Everything you need should be there. A hunting rifle, clothing, gear, your phone and the numbers that you may need to call. And a handbook with all the information that you'll need for now. He paused for a moment, then continued. I know it sounds silly, but make sure you read every page in the handbook. It's not that long. And the last guy who didn't. I could see a look of regret on Zeke's face as he realized that he had shared too much. He had to be replaced somehow. And that's why you're here. It must have been evident that I had a look of shock on my face. I wish I had known this before I signed up for the position, but I guess it made sense. You're working in a remote area in the wilderness. All kinds of wildlife could cut your life short if you don't know everything there is to know about the area. You could be caught with your pants down with a hungry bear looking right up at you, so to speak. I smiled and said, I'll read it all, don't worry. The expression on his face appeared genuine and Zeke waved as he jumped out of the van and headed towards the ranger station. I adjusted around a bit and put my feet up against the vacant left side of the van. The driver didn't say a thing thing and kept on driving as the forest got denser and denser, the road felt bumpier and bumpier. Even though it didn't exactly feel like a godsent cab ride. I felt like I was in heaven, surrounded by trees, people who also loved nature, and I was making more money doing this than I would have made in three years at McDonald's. Maybe this is the closest to heaven I'll ever be. Just as I was starting to drift into sleep, I saw a huge tower in the distance. It was probably 85ft tall and had a metal staircase that wrapped around the tower frame and led into a cabin supposedly where I was to sleep and watch from. The driver pulled off a bit, got out of the car and opened my door. I jumped out as well and gave my legs a moment to adjust to standing up again after hours of riding in a bumpy van. Here you are lad. You got about a quarter mile walk to the tower through the forest to the right. He motioned his arm towards a huge expanse of trees that was surrounding the tower. It appeared as if some of the trees were taller than the tower itself. It was absolutely beautiful. I thanked him, shook his hand, put my gloves on and and began the hike towards my new home. The tower itself was amazing. It looked relatively new. The only evidence that anyone had lived in it before were the footprints gathered around the base of the steps. As I ascended the metal staircase that led into the sky, I couldn't help but gawk at the beautiful expanse of forest that surrounded me for miles and miles. All I could see were towering trees, mountains and there was a small lake a bit to the west. Considering the only light that was guiding me at this point was that from the full moon and the stars that shone in the sky, it was amazing how well I could see. It was such a contrast from the mundane city views that I had grown to abhor and beat. Any hike or backpacking trip I had ever done by a long shot. A bright orange light helped me find the door. There were windows on three of the four sides of the tower, the fourth being the wall my bed was up against when I entered this small cabin. There was a gunmetal filing cabinet and a metal desk right next to the bed, and a locker, which I presumed to hold all of my new belongings and a rifle. Around the unit were posters from various parts parks in Alaska, a few pictures of the staff team, and little notes about things you can see from each window. On the wooden desk was a handbook, assumingly the one I was informed about earlier. There was a black phone connected to a landline and a little memo pad that was turned upside down. I spent a few hours reading the handbook, nothing out of the ordinary. It outlined what I was supposed to be doing, some of the standard operating procedures for common events, and gave me a breakdown of the wildlife and the plants that I would likely encounter. There was a map on one of the last pages that showed my tower in relation to the other towers throughout the park and the headquarters Zeke got dropped off at. For the most part, I was just fire watch and patrolling for now. Every two days I would hike a trail nearby my station and and make sure that no fallen logs or huge grizzly corpses stopped trekkers and trucks from exploring the park. There was a page that detailed some of the things more experienced rangers got to do. Experiments with local research teams assessing weather conditions, tagging and tracking animals through the forests, and cutting unhealthy trees into firewood to be used at the ranger station, and soldiers gold in the nearest town to benefit the forest. I assumed that there would be tours as well, but no mention of those was in the handbook. I was about to turn away when I remembered that there was a little memo pad right next to me. It looked pretty worn down. The COVID was entirely faded when I turned it over, except for big words on the front that read five most important things. I assumed that it was general notes on things that were happening nearby in real time. The handbook was likely a bit outdated, and the notebook allowed rangers to write down what was happening and leave reminders on current events that any new hirees would need to know. But when I flipped to the first page, I felt a cold shiver run down my spine through my body. In chicken scratch hand handwriting. It read, 1. You work alone. I glanced around the room and didn't see anyone else with me. I figured that I would be working alone when I got to the park and Zeke got out but it felt so dark. The writing felt like it was written as a warning of sorts in case somebody else tried to pretend they worked there. Is it possible that some of the local backpackers tried to protect pretend to work with the parks in order to steal or worse? I flipped the page and once again that shiver ran down my spine as I read the handwritten words. 2. She will not help you. I flipped the page again, anxiously glancing around the room trying to figure out who she was. 3. If you hear her crying, run Love.

B (28:17)

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A (28:47)

Today in McDonaldland news Mount McDonaldland is experiencing thick volcanic shake activity. So try the new Mount McDonaldland shake when you order the McDonaldland meal with your very own character souvenir kit. A McDonald's and McDonald's get some McDonaldland meal and McDonald's McDonaldland. You set the table, put on a playlist, even made the lasagna from scratch. And now you're wearing it. Oxiclean Max Force Spray tackles tough set in stains the first time adulting is hard fighting stains shouldn't be Oxiclean Max Force. It's not clean unless it's OxiClean. I practically ripped the page off the memo pad as I flipped again to see what was on the following page. 4. If you see her, it's too late. I slammed the book against the counter and started pacing around the room. I knew that I was getting myself into a job that could be dangerous. But who was she? What kind of tasks was I really doing here, aside from watching for fires and hiking trails? I really wanted to know more and soon. But I was starting to get tired and wouldn't be able to get very far with the intense jet lag and the lack of sleep recently. I took off my shirt and boots. I set my backpack down next to the cot that I had been sleeping in. It was actually quite comfortable, at least more comfortable than sleeping on a couch had been. I decided to sleep with a utility belt on, knife, flashlight, and an FN57 pistol that I'd found in the locker just in case all of this would blow over in the morning when I got answers, I'm sure. At least that's what I told myself as I tossed and turned in bed for 20 minutes, trying to calm my nerves. I awoke to the sound of rain pattering against the roof of the tower. Great, I thought. I won't be able to hike down to the station in this weather. I got up, cleared my eyes, blew my nose and looked out the window. There was a heavy fog surrounding the tower and I could barely see the trees closest to me, let alone the lake or the ranger station. I decided to look through the handbook one last time and see if I could find any phone numbers to the ranger station. When I looked through the night before, I found no mention of the phone at all and no idea how to reach others in case of emergencies. I guess it's very possible that I was too groggy and missed a key detail. I started walking towards the wooden desk when I froze. Someone was coming up my tower. I instinctively put my hand on my hip where my 57 was stored and was ready to pull it out and fire. Just as I started to raise the gun, I saw a yellow young woman's face in the window. She was wearing typical ranger attire, a heavy snow jacket, cargo pants, heavy boots. She had a utility belt on as well, with a knife and a gun similar to mine on her waist. I, laughing at my stupidity for almost killing a fellow ranger, put the gun back in its holster and opened the door. Hi, I'm Autumn. I just wanted to say hi to the new guy. She blushed and pointed out through my window towards where my entrance to the park would have been. Most of the times you can find me at the main headquarters Sometimes I like to work with the new recruits until they're comfortable with their duties. If you want, I can take you on a little tour when the weather clears up a bit. She was soaking wet. Her hair looked flat fresh out of this shower. She had to have trekked at least five miles to get here through heavy rain and terrible conditions. There was no way I would say no to letting her stay a bit. Plus it was starting to get colder. If she got caught out while it was snowing with soaked clothing, chances are it wouldn't end well. You can stay here for a bit if you like. I just woke up a few minutes ago. I was looking for a manual on how to use the phone because I had a couple questions. I can't find any phone numbers or any information about how to contact headquarters. I said, pointing towards the phone. She chuckled and replied, oh, those phones don't work. They're really just an aesthetic at this point. The lines used to be up and running, but now they're good as dead. You'd have to walk down to the headquarters to ask, but since I'm here, you may as well ask me. I I felt embarrassed to ask about the notes in the notepad, so I quickly put together a random thought. What do we do about getting food here? Do they do supply runs to resupply the towers or do you have to walk to pick up your own? I mean, it wasn't a bad question at all. Besides, I was getting hungry and couldn't find any food around the room. They'll bring it by in a few hours, she said, smiling. It's not exactly what I would call comfort food, but it fills the stomach and gives you the energy you need to keep trekking. I smiled, thinking back to all the times that I had gone hungry because I couldn't afford to eat. I wasn't eager to tell Autumn my entire life story, so I stayed silent. But the prospect of getting food handed to me and decent, livable food made me livid with excitement. Excitement. By the way, HQ told me to tell you that there was an incident on one of the trails not too far from here. Since it's in your territory, they wanted you to check it out. Something about a boulder that's obstructing the path. I guess it's become dislodged with the rain and rolled down the hill. I didn't realize how long it had been raining. I guess it had to have started while I was sleeping since there was a steady pour by the time I awoke. I'll check it out when the weather clears up. Do you know where it is? It's west of here. If you look on the map in your handbook, you'll see a trail called Boulder Ridge Loop. It's a seven mile loop trail that goes around a mountain. I laughed. Ironic, huh? The boulder destroyed the Boulder Ridge Loop. Do you know exactly how much more rain we're going to get tonight? She shook her head. Not sure, to be honest. Chances are it'll get light for a few hours, then start raining pretty heavily again. If I were you, when it starts to ease, I would head out as fast as you can and try to assess what happened. She paused for a moment and then continued. I'd be more than happy to tag along if you'd like the company to help. Plus, it might be difficult to determine the trailheads on your first full day. Yeah, that sounds great. I'm going to get changed and start getting ready so we can leave in an instant she started walking towards the door and said, I'll wait near the trailhead. Don't dilly dally too long, buddy. She gave me a friendly wave and jogged down the metal steps. Autumn seemed like a nice person. She was pretty, attractive, friendly, and seemed knowledgeable. I put on a heavy rain jacket that was in my locker. When I realized something. I sprinted over to the desk and grabbed the memo pad. Turning Back to page one, I traced the scratched letters with my fingertip. 1. You work alone. I flipped the page again. She will not help you. I started to panic. I couldn't go out with her. I'd already broken two of the rules that were in the memo pad. There was no way for me to reach the ranger station to ask them for clarification. I tried to be rational. Maybe she doesn't work with me and she's just telling me my duties, I thought, trying to alleviate the anxiety from my mind. But it didn't help at all. I spent an hour pacing back and forth until I noticed that the rain had started to lighten up. I began to pace faster and faster, looking through drawer upon drawer, trying to find something that could help me. Maybe a mobile phone or a map so I could find the trail myself, or keys to some truck that was out of plain sight nearby. I couldn't find anything. Hours and hours passed until I noticed that the sky was getting darker and darker. God damn it, I thought to myself. I didn't get a chance to do anything today except worry. I turned the light on with the switch in the cabin and went back over to look through the handbook once again hoping that I missed something that would help me in this situation. But I found nothing new. I looked outside and could see nothing. Once again. There was a heavy fog all around the tower and it was pitch blackout. It must have been at least 10pm I was considering calling it a night and trying to get some sleep when I heard a faint voice call out from the bottom of the tower. Hey, are you coming? Oh God, she's back, I thought to myself. I had the pistol on my waist but grabbed a hunting rifle. Something was very off about this place. About Autumn. At first I thought I could trust her, but at this point I didn't know if I could trust anybody. I started to crawl slowly towards the door. I put my back against the thin frame of the metal that separated the door and the wide glass window and peered out. I saw Autumn standing at the base of the tower, staring up at me. Her eyes were wide as saucers and she was smiling not your typical smile. This smile was dark, twisted, scary. It didn't quiver one bit and she didn't lose her gaze once, even when I looked away. Hello? I heard her call out. I peeked again and she was now looking to the left, no longer right at me. I reached for the door and slipped slowly, creaked it open. When I heard it, I heard her begin wailing. Not your typical. I stubbed my toe on a coffee table. Wail. Her screams were piercing. It was impossible to think straight. Even the constant pour of rain couldn't drown out her wailing. I remembered the third number in the memo pad and began to shake. 3. If you hear her crying, run. I swung open the door and started to run down when her gaze immediately locked onto me. Her eyes had turned pure white and she immediately stopped wailing and smiled once more. Saliva dripped down from her teeth and she began to laugh as she locked her eyes with mine. And if that wasn't bad enough, blood began to pour out of her eyes. I'm not talking a little bit. It was running down her face and collecting in the collar of her ranger jacket. Her once beautiful hair was beginning to fall out by the second and she began to tremble uncontrollably as if she was about to explode. 4. If she sees you, it's too late. In a split second I drew my hunting rifle. She began to sprinkle, sprint up the stairs faster than any animal I had ever encountered. Her steps were effortless and didn't stumble one bit. I immediately aimed at her and fired. A bullet hit her right in the chest and I saw her smiling corpse fall through the cracks between the metal steps. A pool of blood erupted from her body and she lie motionless. I sprinted back into the tower, leaving my rifle on the deck, and slammed the door shut with all the strength I had left. I pushed a filing cabinet against the metal cabin door and immediately collapsed against the cold metal as I listened to the rain drum against the roof of my tower. I was in shock, drained, exhausted, confused and afraid. I don't know what that thing was, but it would bother me no more. I felt a wave of relief rush over me. All I had to do was make it to morning. I could get to the ranger headquarters and get the hell out of this place, out of this cursed forest, out of this crappy metal tower, away from this demonic creature that called itself Autumn. That brings us to the present moment. I'm sitting here, phone in my hand, writing this up on my notepad app. However, I just need to check something. I remembered the title of the memo pad said that there weren't four things but five. I glanced over at the title of the memo pad. As I expected, it read five most important things. I thumbed through the pages. Number one, you work alone. Number two, she will not help you. Number three, if you hear her crying, run. Number four, if she sees you, it's too late. I paused for a moment, then turned the page once more. Simultaneously, as I turned the page, I heard that familiar pounding of feet sprinting up the stairs. Heavy feet. And the sobbing was back, somehow twice as loud as it was before. I looked at the words on page five and dropped the memo pad to the floor in fear. Number five, do not try to kill her under any condition. She does not die.

B (43:04)

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A (45:18)

Hot dogs and hamburger meat sizzled in the afternoon air at the Andrews barbecue. Quarantine had let up just enough that everyone felt safe having a summer block party. Children giggled as they chased each other through the sprinkler systems. Mothers looked on from over their sunglasses as they talked about the latest updates in education and other changes to the new world. I stood next to Harry Andrews, making eyes at my wife, Hannah, in between sips of cold beer. Hannah was prattling on about something or other, but all I was focused on was getting home. I couldn't wait to put the kids to bed, crack open another cold beer, and cuddle up with my wife. Hell, if things went well, chances were I may even get lucky. Our daughter, Olivia was playing in the grass with other neighborhood girls, holding her doll protectively. I saw her flinch and pull away as the Tompkins girl asked to hold it. Hey, come on now, sweetheart. You know you're supposed to share, I said softly. She she clutched the doll closer in response. I walked over to her. Well, if you don't want anyone playing with her, at least let me hold onto her until we get home. It isn't fair to the other kids. Okay, honey? Her large brown eyes looked up at me disappointedly before handing me the doll. Thank you, Olivia. That was a very grown up, good decision to make. And I'm proud of you. Turning my attention back to Harry, I wondered if he had been rambling on this entire time. I barely caught the tail end of his sentence. Creepy ass little thing. I shook my head with widened eyes in apology. Come again? That, he said, motioning to the doll still clenched in my right hand. I looked down and laughed. Who? Helena? I asked incredulously. Nah, she's a good gal. Dolls just have a bad reputation. Horror writers, directors and whatnot. That's what they do. Take the most beloved, innocent things and fill them with malevolent evil. It hits home with everybody. I love it. My eyes gleamed with excitement and I could tell I lost his interest about halfway through. At least we're even, I thought wryly. We got her at an old estate sale. Livy just loves her. If it keeps them quiet, what can I say, you know? I shrugged. The satin of the doll's dress began to slip through my fingers, causing me to retighten my grip. I raised her to eye level for further examination. Helena had glassy blue eyes. An amused expression was painted on her porcelain lips. She had long golden curls, a direct contrast to my daughter's. Olivia always complained about having lame brown hair and eyes like a mouse. No idea what that meant, but to her dramatic seven year old mind it sounded like a fate worse than death. I think that's why Olivia was so drawn to her. Everyone thinks grass is greener on the other side, in the even kids. My daughter will always be one of the most beautiful girls on earth. She would see that eventually. But if she needed this doll to keep her company in the meantime, who was I to deny her such a harmless request? A short while after everyone had eaten, I saw a group of kids start to walk towards the woods. Olivia bounced excitedly in her seat. Can I go with them, Mommy? Please, please. She whined, looking at my wife expectantly. Hannah shrugged her shoulders and looked at me in response. I don't know, Bug, I began. It will be getting dark here soon. You should stay where we can see. Ah, come on Sammy, Harry interrupted, clapping me on the shoulder harder than what was necessary for the occasion. The kids are just going out to play flashlight tag and pick some delicious blackberries. We have tons of wild bushes out there this time of year. If they pick enough of them or don't eat them all first, I'll have Lori make a pie. He gestured to his wife as she nodded. I looked from Harry to Hannah to Olivia and back again. Well, okay, I relented, but only for a little while. We're gonna be leaving here in about 20 minutes, so stay sharp. She giggled, excited excitedly as she leapt from the table. Her little feet got her halfway across the yard when she suddenly stopped, turned around and ran back. Her hands were outstretched as she bounced on her toes impatiently. I looked to the doll next to me, hesitating before handing it to her. She grabbed it and went to run, but I held firm. Hey, I whispered, getting her attention. Stay with the other kids. Don't let yourself get separated. You got it? She nodded gratefully before making a beeline to the woods. We drank lightly, smoking a bit as we continued to engage in some much needed childless conversation. We giggled and shared old memories, so caught up in nostalgia that I didn't notice that the sun had almost come. Completely set. The Brown's eldest boy, Stuart, came rushing up to the table, eyes wild and breathless. Mr. Roberts, he stammered. Livy fell and hit her head. Her eyes were closed for a second, but she woke up and now she's just laying there. I bolted from the table and ran for the woods, Hannah following close behind. Don't worry, she probably just got her bell rung, I assured my wife as we broke through the treeline. Happens all the time in football. A failed attempt at levity on my part. Our little girl lay in the leaves and dirt, staring blankly at the sky above her. Helena lay six or so feet away, her face buried in the woodland dirt. As awful as it was, all I can remember thinking was that if Olivia broke her doll, she'd be devastated. But at that time, the doll was the least of our problems. Lily, honey. I knelt down next to her. Stray beams of sunlight were shining through the overhead tree branches. I moved my face out of the way of the light to test the dilation of her eyes. You're okay, I soothed. You just lay there for a second and get your bearings, alright? Her eyes reacted normally, but she still wasn't saying anything. I picked her up, taking solace in feeling her melt into my arms with relief and exhaustion. Poor kid. The ride home wasn't much different. We put her and Helena to bed, unbroken, thankfully, by the way, and resumed our evening activities. Everything seemed normal. I even checked on her throughout the night to make sure she was still breathing, just as I had done during her infancy. I awoke to the alarming sound of silence. Anyone living with kids in the house understands exactly what I mean. Hannah laid peacefully next to me, sound asleep. I crept out of bed as carefully as possible to investigate the unsettling stillness. It broke the moment I entered the hallway leading to her room. A muffled but shrill whine screamed from underneath the hum of the air conditioning. I quickened my pace to her room and flung open the door. My little girl lay in bed in the same position she had been in all night. Her back was straight against her mattress and she lay as stiff as glass. I crept over to her, noticing that her eyes were wide open, her gaze was glassy, her eyes took on a concerning shade of pale gray, almost blue, and she refused to answer when I spoke to her. Every time I tried to get a handle on my thoughts, the whining shattered my concentration, penetrating my crumbling resolve. Sitting on the edge of her bed, the noise grew deafeningly loud. How the hell could she sleep through that? Helena's face was smashed against her chest, causing Olivia's wrist to be contorted in what seemed to me to be an agonizing position. I reached out and moved Helena, dropping her to the mattress in horror. Upon seeing her face, a scream clawed its way up my diaphragm and exploded through my quivering lips. A torrent of sound was unleashed the second that I removed the doll's mouth from the tufts of my daughter's nightgown. Helena stared at me with horrified brown eyes, drew in a breath, and screamed. This episode is brought to you by LifeLock. 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B (55:08)

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A (55:38)

It'S not just about window treatments. It's about you. Your style, your space, your way. Whether you DIY or want the pros to handle it all, you'll have the confidence of knowing it's done right. From free expert design help to our 100% satisfaction guarantee, everything we do is made to fit your life and your windows. Because@blinds.com the only thing we treat better than windows is you. Visit blinds.com now for up to 50% off with minimum purchase plus a professional measure at no cost. Rules and restrictions apply. I dressed as a priest once by Bowhiskey. It really wasn't my idea to dress like a priest for Halloween. A couple of years ago, a girl I briefly dated decided to dress like a typical slutty nun and thought it would be a fun couple idea for me to dress as a priest. I agreed because she specified that I would be an undead priest and the idea sounded a lot better than my typical lack of costume. We went to a party one of our mutual friends threw and I of course got absolutely wasted. My girlfriend disappeared at some point, so when I was ready to walk home, I found myself walking alone, thinking I wasn't drunk enough to warrant calling a cab or getting a ride share or seeing if any of my sober friends would take me home. I know you're probably already thinking big mistake and you're right. I had walked home inebriated many times before though, so I really had no reason to think that this would be any different. By the time I was about two blocks away, the sidewalk beneath my feet started to tilt and sway. I knew I needed to sit down at least for a few minutes before I continued. And that is how I found myself, sitting on the steps of a church, dressed in a priest's outfit at almost 2 in the morning. Looking back, I cringe at how cliche and ironic it was. My elbows were on my thighs and my hands cradled my head as I stared at the concrete below, focused on my breathing. I noticed footsteps rapidly approaching, but didn't move or think much of it until they stopped a few feet away from me and something fell to the ground. I glanced up and saw a girl standing there looking at the church doors, a backpack at her feet. She she was breathing harder than normal, but not quite panting yet, as if she had only started running. I lifted my head slowly and looked at her completely. She was dressed in a sundress made up to have blood and dirt stains on it, along with her long blonde hair and exposed skin. As I tried to think of what her costume might be, she picked the backpack up and walked to the heavy wooden doors. She gripped the handle of one and tugged. Nothing happened. She tugged again and then tried the other door with the same result. You're out of luck. The doors are usually locked by 10 or 11, I think, I called to her. I turned my head a little to try and see her in my periphery without having to turn my queasy body to do so. She whipped around to look at me, momentary panic on her face. She stared at me for a moment, then nodded and walked calmly over to me and sat down. She set the bag between her feet in front of her and unzipped it, pulling out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes. Without a word she offered me one and I shook my head. She paused as if remembering something suddenly, suddenly, and then nodded, placing her cigarette between her lips and lighting it. She took a deep drag and then finally spoke. I don't mean to bother you, Father, but I need to make a confession and I need it to be now, she said. I looked at her face and saw her staring off in the distance. She was young. I could tell that much and obviously missed the fake blood and ghoulish makeup I was wearing. Somehow she actually thought I was a priest. Maybe it was the alcohol or seeing the distressed and haunted look on her face that kept my mouth shut, but either way I made the decision on the spot to not correct her. If someone needed to confess about sneaking out and going to a party on Halloween, who was I to deny them a little solace? She probably was just feeling guilty over going against her parents wishes or something. And so what if I wasn't a real priest? I could fake it for a few minutes and give her some peace of mind so long as I didn't end up vomiting. I nodded solemnly, putting on my best priest act. What is it you need to say? Myself, child? She held the cigarette in her mouth as she reached down and pulled her shoes off, dropping them haphazardly to the side. Then she stood up, looking at the ground in what I assumed was a shy manner. So father, I'm 16 and I've lived a less than pristine life. But I've been trying, I really have. I've been good and I got myself a job and a place to live that isn't on the streets. I even have been going to school, trying to graduate and all. I've really been working hard, you know, keeping my head down, minding my business, just moving forward without causing waves or even ripples. I met a guy, Father, a great guy. He moved in with me and we were living a happy life, a quiet life, a good life, she said. Her last few words trailed off as she became obviously deep in thought and started to pace, her bare feet making almost no noise on the pavement. Go on, I gently urged. She stopped pacing suddenly and faced me for the first time. She looked me directly in the eyes and I felt instantly compelled to give her my undivided attention, nausea be damned. She held my gaze and smoked on her cigarette. Do you mind if I take off my dress? She asked. The inflection in her voice and her hands suddenly moving to pull the thin straps off her shoulders told me that it was more of a rhetoric, rhetorical question. So I simply stared, dumbfounded at this girl's actions. My mind was a steady stream of expletives and questions as she disrobed right there on the sidewalk. I didn't plan it. I really didn't. It wasn't something that had ever even crossed my mind, you see, but I just had to bury him, she said once the dress had fallen, fallen to the ground around her feet. It took me a few seconds to focus on what she had spoken, but once I did, I only felt my confusion deepen. B Bury him? I asked. Yes, about 8ft in the ground, she said, kicking the dress to land on top of the shoes that she had tossed aside. So you understand why I'm asking you to talk to God for me. Let him know I didn't mean to. What exactly do you mean by bury him? I asked. This had to be some joke, right? Some Halloween prank or something. You see. She took one final puff from her cigarette and tossed it toward the street. She then leaned forward and I pulled back, bracing myself with my hands on the stage step behind me. She gripped my legs just above my knees and blew the smoke out in my face. I found him with another woman in our bed. My bed. The bed that I paid for and I made for him. So I had to find a place in the soft ground and dig a hole. I had to give him a new bed once I was done punishing him. I I tried not to feel nervous about her proximity or her story of killing her boyfriend. She held my gaze and I noticed her eyes were a soft blue color with a gold ring around the pupil. I found myself unable to look away the longer I stared into her unblinking eyes. I started to lose my senses. First, my sight of anything but her blurred, leaving me with a sore of tunnel vision. Next, the sound of distant traffic and city noises faded away, leaving only auditory blankness. I think this is when my body went numb, but honestly, I didn't even notice it until later. A new smell began to permeate my nostrils. It smelled flowery, but sweet enough to be sickening and left an ashy taste in my mouth when I involuntarily tried breathing with it open. Father, your breathing has changed. Are you feeling okay? The girl asked. She continued staring deep into my eyes, and I felt one of her hands start creeping up my leg ever so slowly. This is when I noticed that my body was numb. All except where she touched me. Maybe we can work something out in exchange for you helping me with the Almighty. My eyes were still glued at hers, and I watched helplessly as the golden rings began to pulse and stretch in strands across the blue iris. I wanted to move, to yell, to push her away. Hell to breathe at my own command. But I was a prisoner to her wholly and completely. From the second she had touched me, I could feel that something was not right. Something primal inside of me was gripped with pure fear. But I felt like a caged animal as I lost myself in the steady, measured beats of the gold visions began to appear in my mind. There was the girl, dressed as she had been when I first saw her, except. Except clean. She was unlocking a door and opening it to a studio apartment. I saw a man and another woman in bed. There was a blinding flash that hurt my eyes even though it had come from behind them. I shut my eyes tight and winced. There was another vision. The man naked on his knees in what looked like some woods or a park or something. The girl was there too, holding a large knife to his throat. No, wait. It. Another flash and I saw his lifeless body, limp on the ground, being carved into with, yes, a knife. It was a knife, but the hand gripping it wasn't human. The fingers extended too far and the nails were thin, thick, curved slightly and sharper than naturally possible. There were slices in his skin already, and I could tell she had mutilated certain sensitive parts of his body. Flash. I saw a different person, an older man. He was yelling at what appeared to be a younger version of the girl in front of me. Flash. This new man was on his back, desperately trying to shimmy away from her along the floor. Her hands were warped and inhuman again as she held a bloody hammer loosely in her grip. Her hand tightened around it and she lifted her arm. Flash. The girl, even younger again, was staring in the mirror. She had bruises on her upper arms and she was crying. Her hands gripped the the sink as she spit out blood and shakily turned on the water to wash it down the drain. Flash. She was looking from a reflection to behind her and back again. There was something dark in the mirror. A figure in a humanoid shape. It was like a dark silhouette that only showed in the reflection. I got the impression that the shadow thing was speaking to her as her facial expression expression changed and her mouth moved to form words. Even though I heard none. The reflection of the thing reached out and held her reflection shoulder in an almost lovingly way. It nodded. Its face turned to look down on her. Her mouth opened wide in a scream as her hands changed and I saw bones on the child's back pop and move and shift. It looked horribly painful and I wanted to cry out to her, to scream at that being that she was just a child. I couldn't speak though, and I knew I wasn't really there. Right before a final flash that brought me back to the current scene, I saw that shadow look up. Pinpricks of honey gold pulsed and grew larger, forming into the shape of bright eyes. And I swear it looked right at me. There was one final blinding white flash of pain and I came back to reality immediately, heaving myself to the side and throwing up the entire contents of my stomach. Over the sound of my retching, I heard the girl's voice from in front of me. How did you do that? She demanded. I didn't respond, but looked at her in exhausted confusion. Once my internal exodus was finished, she was standing straight a couple of steps back from me and glaring at me with panic and hatred burning in her eyes. In an instant she was on me, gripping my thighs tight with those claw like hands that I had seen, her face barely an inch away from mine. She stood, snarled, and I saw that her teeth were sharper than I realized before, or they had become sharper in whatever kind of transformation her hands also underwent. You shouldn't have been able to see more than I wanted to show you. Is this some sort of power of God? She asked. Her voice was lower than before and had almost a gravely tone to it. The anger seemed to radiate off of her. The honeyed gold in her eyes glowed like an amber fire, ready to lash out and envelop me. What the hell are you? I countered. Her visage continued to change, her face appearing more gaunt and sharp. I thought I could hear the sound of large wings flapping nearby. She didn't move for a moment that felt like it lasted at least half a lifetime. My heart pounded in my ears and I began to wonder if I would pass out before she enacted her fury on me with a final squeeze of my thighs, one that I would later find drew blood. She stood up, eyes closed, and rolled her neck one way and then the other, then her shoulders. She opened her eyes and they were back to the calm blue with a slender, golden, not pulsating ring around the pupil. Her lips curved into a smile and the altered appearance faded away, leaving the young, innocent looking girl she was when she first walked up. Do you think anyone can be saved, Father? She asked me. Yes, I said with a stammer. I need to be saved, Father, she said. I wasn't sure how to respond and my mind raced, trying to find what to say to keep her peaceful and tell her what she might want to hear. Do you regret what you did? Will you repent? I finally asked. You know. She took tapped her chin with two fingers and paused, picking up her backpack and reaching inside, retrieving a T shirt as she pulled it over her head, she continued. At first I didn't feel bad. I knew that he got what he deserved. But then, after a few hours I started to feel something. There was this itch, an itch I tried to scratch, but I couldn't. Couldn't quite get to. Guilt? I asked her as she pulled a pair of jeans out from her bag and then dropped it back on the ground. No, no, a deeper itch. You know what I mean, Father. You must feel it a lot, even if you don't really know what it is, she said before she put the pants on. She stepped forward again and placed her hands on my knees, one fist clenched around the jeans, the other lightly placed on me. She bit her lip and traced a finger up my inner thigh. I coughed and shifted uncomfortably on the step with a sly and sultry smile. She stood again and began stepping into her pants and pulling them up. As she dressed, she said nonchalantly, he was the best I ever had. I regret losing that. I really was at a loss for words and could only blink at her. She cocked her head to the side and looked me up and down like a predator sizing up its prey. Say, Father, what do you say we find somewhere a little more private and give it a go? If he can forgive me for my trespasses, I'm sure you'll be forgiven too. Or if I really am going to hell, you can keep me company, she said. She approached me once more and leaned close enough that I could feel her breath on my ear as she spoke. Just put in a good word with the big man and I'll show you what lust and greed really are. I'm already on the run. Why not give me something else to repent and remember? Whoa, stop, I said, grabbing her waist and pushing her to be at arm's length from me. Am I not pretty enough for you, Father? She asked, her voice warped from pure at the beginning of the question to spiteful at the end. No, no, I said. You're only 16. There is so much about it that would be wrong and sinful. I cannot do that to an innocent child like you. I felt myself spewing the words, trying to stay in character and sound at least somewhat priest like or pious. She stood up straight and held my gaze. Her eyes were starting to pulse again and her expression was firm and determined. I felt myself beginning to panic again, but the sound of foot footsteps from the distance seemed to startle her. She whipped her head in the direction the sound was coming from and my own head followed slowly. We both saw a group of people walking down the street in our direction. They were laughing and talking with no idea as to what was going on Here on the steps of the church, the girl looked back at me, calm again. Without a word, she bent down and pulled a pair of shoes out of her backpack. After removing a book of matches from inside one and a small bottle of lighter fluid from the other, she slipped them on. She doused the pile of clothes and the shoes that she had been wearing with the fluid and then dropped the bottle on top and struck a match. Tucking it back into the fold of the matchbook, she tossed it at the very top top a flaming cherry on top of the mound. It didn't take more than a few seconds for it to light up and begin burning. Thanks for listening, dear Father, she said, leaning over and kissing my cheek. Then she walked away as if nothing had happened, glancing over her shoulder at me one last time before she turned a corner and vanished. I sat there for a little while longer, absentmindedly watching the pile of clothes burn and then die out. Once it was done, I came back to my senses and continued my walk home. It was a strange encounter and left me a nervous wreck for a few days, but eventually faded into the background of my life within a few months. In those first for the first few days, I saw a news story of a young woman being arrested. After a brief search, the girl had mutilated and murdered her boyfriend. Even without seeing an image of who was arrested, I was sure it had to be her. At the very least, I hoped it was her. Knowing she was behind bars helped ease my mind as I moved on from that night. I would have left this terrible experience in the past and probably only remembered it when asked what the craziest thing I had been through was. But I received a letter in the mail yesterday. It has me on edge and I'm not sure what to do about Read as Dear Father, have you missed me? They caught me for what I did and I've been locked away. Don't worry, though. I've been strong and taking it in stride. I prayed for what I did and I have forgiven myself. There is so much worse I have done since then. Anyways, I think I'm overdue for a confession. A long one, even though I know I'm going to hell. It couldn't hurt, right? I would love to see you again, and I will be getting out soon. I'm looking forward to speaking with you again. Halloween night has been so long ago, but I've kept it fondly in my memories. I'll see you soon. Yours. The girl on the church steps I have no idea how she's getting out soon if she went down for murder I I never gave her my name. I never gave her my address. I don't know how to process the fact that below her closing line there is a lip print in blood red lipstick. She's made up her mind to live pretty smart Learn to budget responsibly right from the start she spends a little less and puts more into savings Keeps her blood pressure low and credit score raises she's cutting debt right out of her life she tracks her cash flow on her spreadsheet at night Boring money moves make kinda lame songs but they sound pretty sweet to your wallet BNC bank brilliantly boring since 1865 Jack Daniels is proudly served in fine establishments, questionable joints and everywhere in between. So no matter where you go in every bar you'll always know someone by name.

B (79:44)

Jack Jack and Coke shot at Jack Jack Daniels please.

A (79:48)

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B (81:01)

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A (101:14)

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B (102:43)

We'll see.

A (102:44)

See you there. It's been so long. How have you been? Hello. I'm doing well, Dave. Why? Why are you talking that way? Please say one for a compliment or two for a question. Yeah, this is weird. I think I'm gonna go.

B (102:57)

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