NIGHTMARE SUBURBIA
Part 2
There is a perfect understanding when a being is confined to the boundaries of the known world, where things are merely explained in theories proven to be closer to the truth. When the universe seems to fit, it calls to your connection to it, embracing its vibrant symphony, weird intricacies, and the unknowable of Mother Nature. You are alive, and this is the mundane menagerie of your existence. Accept it.
I lost a part of that for something… more .
Something I couldn’t explain.
I could see . Not just confined through my own eyes, but as if I grew new ones behind my skull.
Suddenly, I possessed a strange sight that transcended my physical form, peering through the foliage of trees, burrowing deep beneath the soil, soaring within the clouds, and even permeating the very air I breathed. My senses became heightened, tasting the essence of everything around me, hearing even the faintest whispers, inhaling the subtle variation of nature’s scents, and feeling an intimate connection with every living being around me.
It was addicting.
Invigorating.
Powerful.
I feared it.
I peered from above the glade. Whatever form I projected to interact with the physical world disappeared. Was this what death felt like? I could fly! Not just that, but I was also standing on the ground.
Pulling higher, I was in the middle of McLaren Forest; a gentle breeze rustled the leaves below, almost peaceful except for the horror awaiting under the canopy. Over the horizon, six or maybe seven miles, was Point Hope, the town I grew up in for more than eighteen years of my former life; the lights faint under the witching hour. Without a watch, I could still tell the exact time; 3:34 AM.
From the glade, an off-beaten trail meandered towards a narrow dirt road flanked by three parked vehicles on the shoulder eagerly awaiting their occupants—the men and women who murdered Mark Castle.
Coach Hodge’s sudden cursing brought me back to the ground.
“What the fuck?” Hodge stared at the gemstone, dumbfounded.
I stared back at him, not from where I stood but from the stone itself. Coach Hodge carried me as if I was an object. Looking down, my entire body was gone.
I was the gem.
At first, I thought Coach Hodge recognized me as the stone, but it didn’t seem like it.
“Uh, coach? Is something supposed to happen?” The young woman with the blonde ponytail. I recognized Jenna Batten, a popular real estate agent in the area. Mom bought their new house from her when we moved across town for something more upper-middle-class suburban and less “other side of the tracks.”
Hodge kept staring at the gemstone as if looking at it harder could discern what was wrong with it. “It should have worked.” He turned to the second man, who aided him with gutting my body. “Dave, did you fucking get the goat I asked for?”
“I did!” Dave squeaked. “I made sure and talked to the butcher, Hodge.”
Hodge picked up a goblet I did not see from the pointed pyramidal glyph near the southern end and took a whiff. “This better be Saanen goat, Dave, or I swear if you get me another pygmy like last time—”
“—I swear! It’s the goat. Seen it drained myself.”
“Oh my god, this is Portland all over again,” another woman sighed, massaging her temples as she sat on a log. She was a few years older than Jenna, with dark skin with curly black hair tied into a bun. She looked familiar, but she might be another townie like the others.
Hodge shook his head. “No, this is not another Portland, Maxine, because we’ll fix it.”
“Oh? Like you did the last time?” Maxine asked. “How did that turn out for the rest of us?”
“Coach, what’s wrong?” Jenna asked again. Out of the others, she seemed new to the group, almost lost. She held tight to her jacket and was the only member who refused to look at my disemboweled corpse, pretending it wasn’t there.
“This is what’s wrong.” Hodge threw the rock to the ground. I felt its impact on the damp Earth and thought it would break me into million pieces. I remained intact, fortunately. “Fuck. We wasted it.”
“I can’t have another delay, Justin,” another woman from the circle said. “You promised us it would be tonight. We covered for you when this Castle kid went missing, and now—”
This text was taken from . Help the author by reading the original version there.
Hodge heaved a sigh. “I know, Becca. I’m aware. We’ve got important shit coming up.”
My heart sank. Becca? As in Deputy Rebecca Torres? With my many eyes drifting in the wind, I leaned forward to take a better look. Yes. Definitely her .
“So, that’s it? The ritual’s a dud?” A heavy-set man in his fifties leaned against the trunk of a nearby tree. “For fuck’s sake, Hodge, we killed that kid for nothing.”
I recognized the voice immediately: Kirk Gamble, my English teacher. Probably the only adult in school I had a good relationship with. I took all the English electives Mr. Gamble taught each semester (he never repeated a course every other year) just because I liked the guy, an uncle I never had. And Mr. Gamble watched while Coach Hodge and another stranger butchered one of his students. I almost burst into tears again.
“Blame Dave, Kirk,” Maxine huffed.
“It’s not me. I swear! I have the receipts in my car if y’all ungrateful motherfuckers keep accusing me all night.”
“Quit yapping, Dave,” Hodge spat. “I’m trying to think.”
“It’s getting late,” Maxine said.
“I said I’m thinking!” Hodge shouted. A pause. “Fuck!”
Rebecca stepped forward. She had enough. “Okay, we’re going to bury the body as clean and as fast as possible. Leave this glade like we’re never here. The rest of you burn the clothes you wear. Don’t just dump it in the trash and forget about it.”
Maxine rolled her eyes. “I just fucking bought these,” she muttered.
Rebecca ignored her comment. “And make sure you scrub your shoes clean. If you want to burn it, too, that’s fine. You got that, Max?”
Maxine gave her a thumbs-up before turning it into the middle finger.ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴠɪsɪᴛ ɴoᴠel Fɪre.nᴇt
Rebecca turned to Hodge. “What about you, Hodge?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s over, right? The ritual didn’t work?”
Hodge glared at Dave again before regarding the gem in his hand. “Yeah. Didn’t work.”
Rebecca nodded. “Okay. We all know the drill, so get to it. That also means you, Jenna. Get the tarp over there. That’s it. Bring it over to me and help me with the legs. Don’t think about the blood. I don’t want to clean up your puke. That’s evidence.”
They were surprisingly efficient, taking down the candles into black plastic bags, shoving the trinkets they splayed on the ground around the glyphs, and burying the rest (anything to do with me) inside a body bag. It was clearly not their first time, and I shuddered from the horrible thought of how many people they had killed for their past rituals. As they got to work, I quickly realized what this ritual was for.
Money.
Everything was about money, as always.
The typical making-a-deal-with-the-devil sort of situation.
Jenna wanted success in her real estate business. Rebecca wanted to become Point Hope’s new sheriff. Coach Hodge wanted the state championships for the football team and a contract to coach the big leagues in college. Dave wanted a promotion from his job in a law firm. As for Mr. Gamble, well, he just wanted to get rich. Same as Maxine. Kirk recently went through a divorce, and he wanted a ton of fuck-you money after his wife cleaned him out. Maxine wanted as much success as possible with her multiple business ventures as an influencer for wine and organic produce. She owned a vineyard near town.
Alvin Jones, the seventh figure in the clearing, was a complete enigma. He was a towering man of about six-foot-six, pale and muscle-bound, looking like he could rip someone’s head off with one punch. Like Jenna, Alvin was also new to the group, but Hodge already warmed up to him more than the young woman. Alvin quickly picked up my corpse, and though the others were a bit more chit-chatty, letting it know how disappointed they were that the ritual did not work, the tall man said nothing, even when Mr. Gamble asked him what he would miss out until they found a suitable replacement.
It would take weeks, maybe months, of scouting for the right essence: young and with an amplified soul, whatever that meant. From what I could glean from various conversations, an amplified soul was a random universal fluke. You either chanced upon it or didn’t.
They just got lucky they had one on their back door—me.
I clenched his phantom fist harder. All those years hanging out with Mr. Gamble was all an act. The stories we told each other that we bonded over were never real. All in the name of scouting my soul for this moment. I watched as they rolled my corpse like a fucking burrito around a tarp, and then they marched deeper into the woods where they buried me. At some point, Kirk picked the gem up.
After burying me in a shallow grave, they marched back to their vehicles in silence. They only had a couple of hours left before dawn.
“Hey, wait a minute. What do we do with this?” Kirk asked, raising the gemstone in his hand.
“Get rid of it. It’s tainted,” Hodge said.
I stiffened. Don’t throw me away . I didn’t know what would happen if I were alone in the woods.
“Just like that? We’ll just throw it away? Do you know how much this cost? I shelled out three grand for this.”
“I don’t know, Kirk. Do you know more about this stuff than I do?”
Kirk gritted his teeth. “No.”
“I got the book, dumbass. I’ve been at this for three years, and you didn’t complain when I got you fucking tenured last summer. That gem’s gonna fuck us up the next time we use it. You better find something else. I know what works.”
“Apparently not this one,” Kirk mumbled.
Hodge glared. “What? I didn’t hear you quite clearly, Kirk. Can you repeat that?”
“Nothing.”
“No, I know you fucking said something.”
“I didn’t say anything, Hodge! Jesus Christ!” He threw the gemstone on the ground, marched to his Toyota, and climbed behind the wheel.
Rebecca stepped in. “Guys, guys! I’ve had enough of this shit. Can we not argue and go home already?”
Maxine crossed her arms. “How long until the next one, Hodge?”
Jenna nodded. “Yeah. I have a big client coming up in a couple of weeks. I need them to sign on purchasing a vineyard, Justin. I literally mean it when millions are on the line. It’s my biggest sale yet, and I don’t want anything to mess it up.”
“I’ll let you all know.” Hodge sulked and entered his Ford truck. The same truck that I climbed into before everything went black.
“But can you do it in two weeks?” Jenna asked again, stifling her urgency.
“Jenna, I’m tired. Do you want to scout another kid?”
Jenna held her tongue.
“Yeah. Neither do I, but since everyone thinks I’m the one that should do it, you’re gonna have to wait. And Dave, Pick that thing up.” He pointed at the gem. “You know what to do with it. As for me, I’m getting the fuck out of here and going back to sleep. I have football practice early in the morning.”
Dave sighed and picked the gem up. He was about to walk over to the Range Rover when Hodge drove away.
“Hodge! You’re my ride, man!” Dave shouted, but Hodge’s taillights vanished when he rounded a corner.
Maxine climbed behind into Kirk’s Toyota with Rebecca and Jenna, but clearly, there wasn’t any room for Dave.
“I’ll give you a ride,” Alvin said, gesturing to his beat-up sedan.
Unlike the others, Alvin didn’t quite fit the suburban mold the others seemed to proudly wear like a second skin. He wore a leather jacket and black cargo pants. And he wore actual hiking boots for the occasion. While I was in Dave’s palm, I could sense the man’s hesitation. Maxine shot him an apologetic look before Kirk turned on the ignition and drove away.
Dave let out a breath. “Um, do you know where I live?”
Alvin nodded. “Hop in.”
Dave shoved me—the gemstone—inside his stinking backpack and climbed into the car.