So I noticed that I have a lot of bits and drabbles in my gdocs. Mostly original work, although there's a couple fanfic things there too. Because I am lazier than sin itself when it comes to shit that goes only to me, I will attempt to clean up, polish, and finish up any work that's unfinished, then post it here.
Cleaning Out My Gdocs: A Fiction Collection
The Cambion
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The Cambion
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- boundless optimism
It was an old forest. Black, discolored moss creeped up bone white bark and laid it's touch on all the places where the sun could not see. The wind pressed its fingers against the leaves, a whisper between its hands. Years and years of detritus rotted in the ground, forming a patina of decay.
"Hey, what's up Youtube, it's your boys, Sam and Alex, here with another episode coming right at ya!" Two pairs of footsteps came a-crunching and a-shuffling, two puffs of breath steaming out two mouths. "Today we're investigating yet another local legend," one of them bubbled in an excited tone.
"We have a lot of them around here," another, this time slower and deeper. "Alex, you ever consider that uh, you know, people make stuff up?" Sam by elimination rubbed his head of red hair. "But man, it's a beautiful day. We should do this more often. Just, you know, without the cam."
Alex laughed. "Yeah, yeah. Anyway, couple years back-"
"-about thirty or so-"
"-there were a bunch of murders here. Never caught the guy who did it though, and they say that he's still out there."
The two of them continued down the path, Sam kicking up clouds of big maple leaves, Alex stomping on them in his hurried tread. "My mom used to threaten me with the killer." He idly picked up a leaf in his hands, and absentmindedly started to shred it. "Don't stay out too late! Or the wolves will eat your bones and the Killer will… aw, fuck, I got it the wrong way around."
Alex stopped. "Woah. That's dark. And metal."
"Yeah, my mom's pretty cool."
"Wait, shit, dude, do you wanna get your personal inforrrr..." Alex trailed off. "Wait a moment, this is your way of guilting me into deleting the footage."
Sam shrugged. He was already a couple yards in front of Alex. "Nah," he threw over his shoulder. "Not really personal." As Alex caught up to his taller friend's longer stride, there were another set of footsteps behind them.
"Well, Sam," Alex shoved the recorder in his friend's face, grinning like an idiot. "Would you mind elucidating your-"
thump
Sam shoved a hand in front of the lens. "No more questions," he said loftily, "anyway, let's get this thing done. I think I left the stove running." Alex rolled his eyes and walked past Sam.
thump
Sam turned around. He considered the spectral shadow of a heavyset man with a cleaver in his hands and blood on his apron. With all the grace and ritual of a priest carrying out mass, Sam pressed a razor sharp thumb to his throat and flicked it lightly across. "Git," he whispered, soft and low. The sunlight and shadows made funny shapes on his face.
The ghost got.
"Hey, yo, you see something?" Alex called from the front of the path, turning around to look at his friend.
"Nah."
The hint of sulfur in the air blew away in the chilly autumn wind. All that was left was the smell of dry leaves and bark in the forest.
It really was a beautiful day.
Some time later, the sun was beginning to set, painting the sky orange and bruise-purple. The two were setting on a bannister of a bridge, watching the cold creek water trickle through stones. Alex sighed. "Damn. Nothing again." He flicked through his phone's photo library. Plenty of empty, rustling trees. "Man, that's a disappointment."
"You might as well just change your channel to ASMRs of us walking through places." Sam offered, taking out a cigarette and striking a match."That's basically what we do. And sometimes I spook you."
"You shouldn't smoke," Alex chatasized Sam. "That shit ain't healthy. Anyway, I made the channel about ghosts, not the appreciation of nature." He sat up straighter, and his tone deepened by a few octaves. "It would be an insult to my sub-"
"What, you and your three hundred subs?" Sam stuck the lit cig in his mouth, exhaled a cloud of smoke. "We're just a sadder Buzzfeed Unsolved."
Alex rubbed his chin. "It hurts, but you shouldn't say it," he admitted. The two of them sat in companionable silence for a while. Alex subtly shifted away from his friend's smoke. "So. Senior year."
"Yeah."
"Thought about what you'd do?" At that question, Sam inhaled.
"No, not really," he admitted. "I know I'll have to go to the military. My mom can't afford anything else without a GI bill, and well…"
"You hate the guys at the football team," Alex finished.
"Not all of them," Sam corrected his friend, shoving the cigarette in his face in an inadvertent motion. "Well, Lee is cool. And a couple others. But Rudy fuckin' hates me and the coach will bend over backwards for the star quarterback. You?" There was a bitterness to his voice.
"Eh, fair enough," Alex said, waving the smoke away. "I figured I'd go straight into college. I like photography. Maybe journalism."
"But you already have a twitter account."
They shared a laugh under the fading sun, short and sweet. Then it was silent again, excepting the rustle of leaves and the babbling of the brook.
"Right," Alex finished, sliding off the bannister. "Finish your goddamn cancer stick, you troubled child. Let's go before the wolves eat us. And the dude will chop up what remains."
"Mostly bones, I expect." Sam followed suit, dipping a hand in the rushing water and squeezing both fingers around the flame, then dropping it in a ziploc bag. "Right, gimme a sec to piss as God intended, then let's go."
"Ay, sure."
Sam had walked a good distance, further than it warranted for simple privacy. Everything was silent once more.
There was another shuffle of feet behind Sam.
Sam faced a tree, whistled tunelessly.
A cleaver glinted in the half dead sunlight.
The kid whirled around, the stench of sulfur crowning him, seizing a shadow of jowls, and lifting the specter behind him bodily. It was so light, Sam thought, something making that obvious of a crunch shouldn't feel like they were made out of cotton candy.
Fucking ghosts. At least his deadbeat dad did something good for him. "Okay, I'm gonna say this once," he hissed at the ghost, pinning it against the tree. Gone was the easy, laconic tones, replacing them was hissing that was more snake than man. "If you step out of this forest, if you follow me and him, I will kill you. If I smell your kid-diddler ass on him, I will find you." His eyes burned, two fluorescent photophores stabbing red light through the fading light. "And I will kill you again. And this time, it will hurt."
He wasn't speaking English anymore. The words burned crazy, senseless sigils in the ground, stamped themselves against paper-white bark. The ghost could only nod assent.
"Good." He let his hands loosen, the ghost fading away.
When he left, all he could think of was that he couldn't let Alex come here.
He'd see the burnt words and drag him off on a hunt for demons or whatever.
The next morning, when Sam's running clothes still wet with sweat, his phone dinged when he was halfway through a glass of water. It was the group chat. His heart dropped as he fumbled the phone, his sweaty thumb fudging the fingerprint lock. When he finally unlocked his phone, scrolling upwards through hundreds of messages, he arrived at the photo.
That damned photo.
Paul and Kristy came through, he gleaned from the messages, walking in the forest. And of course, because God hated him personally, the fuckin' words didn't blow away in the wind. And of course they had to post it to Instagram. And now, any moment now, there would be a DM, which would be from Alex, and it would be practically begging for him to go out there into the forest with him when they could be playing a couple rounds of NBA 2k19.
Ping!
There it is. 'Fine,' he texted, groaning while finished the cup. 'C u after school.' Then the phone went face down on the counter. He could probably play it off. How would Alex know where he pissed? That would be frankly creepy. So in the end, nothing was wasted but his free time. So there, he thought to himself, heading to the shower, nothing was really going to be made of it.
Before Sam left, he took a sniff of the house and replaced the air freshener to cover the sulfer smell with pine.
"Hey, what's up Youtube, it's your boys, Sam and Alex, here with another episode coming right at ya!" Two pairs of footsteps came a-crunching and a-shuffling, two puffs of breath steaming out two mouths. "Today we're investigating yet another local legend," one of them bubbled in an excited tone.
"We have a lot of them around here," another, this time slower and deeper. "Alex, you ever consider that uh, you know, people make stuff up?" Sam by elimination rubbed his head of red hair. "But man, it's a beautiful day. We should do this more often. Just, you know, without the cam."
Alex laughed. "Yeah, yeah. Anyway, couple years back-"
"-about thirty or so-"
"-there were a bunch of murders here. Never caught the guy who did it though, and they say that he's still out there."
The two of them continued down the path, Sam kicking up clouds of big maple leaves, Alex stomping on them in his hurried tread. "My mom used to threaten me with the killer." He idly picked up a leaf in his hands, and absentmindedly started to shred it. "Don't stay out too late! Or the wolves will eat your bones and the Killer will… aw, fuck, I got it the wrong way around."
Alex stopped. "Woah. That's dark. And metal."
"Yeah, my mom's pretty cool."
"Wait, shit, dude, do you wanna get your personal inforrrr..." Alex trailed off. "Wait a moment, this is your way of guilting me into deleting the footage."
Sam shrugged. He was already a couple yards in front of Alex. "Nah," he threw over his shoulder. "Not really personal." As Alex caught up to his taller friend's longer stride, there were another set of footsteps behind them.
"Well, Sam," Alex shoved the recorder in his friend's face, grinning like an idiot. "Would you mind elucidating your-"
thump
Sam shoved a hand in front of the lens. "No more questions," he said loftily, "anyway, let's get this thing done. I think I left the stove running." Alex rolled his eyes and walked past Sam.
thump
Sam turned around. He considered the spectral shadow of a heavyset man with a cleaver in his hands and blood on his apron. With all the grace and ritual of a priest carrying out mass, Sam pressed a razor sharp thumb to his throat and flicked it lightly across. "Git," he whispered, soft and low. The sunlight and shadows made funny shapes on his face.
The ghost got.
"Hey, yo, you see something?" Alex called from the front of the path, turning around to look at his friend.
"Nah."
The hint of sulfur in the air blew away in the chilly autumn wind. All that was left was the smell of dry leaves and bark in the forest.
It really was a beautiful day.
Some time later, the sun was beginning to set, painting the sky orange and bruise-purple. The two were setting on a bannister of a bridge, watching the cold creek water trickle through stones. Alex sighed. "Damn. Nothing again." He flicked through his phone's photo library. Plenty of empty, rustling trees. "Man, that's a disappointment."
"You might as well just change your channel to ASMRs of us walking through places." Sam offered, taking out a cigarette and striking a match."That's basically what we do. And sometimes I spook you."
"You shouldn't smoke," Alex chatasized Sam. "That shit ain't healthy. Anyway, I made the channel about ghosts, not the appreciation of nature." He sat up straighter, and his tone deepened by a few octaves. "It would be an insult to my sub-"
"What, you and your three hundred subs?" Sam stuck the lit cig in his mouth, exhaled a cloud of smoke. "We're just a sadder Buzzfeed Unsolved."
Alex rubbed his chin. "It hurts, but you shouldn't say it," he admitted. The two of them sat in companionable silence for a while. Alex subtly shifted away from his friend's smoke. "So. Senior year."
"Yeah."
"Thought about what you'd do?" At that question, Sam inhaled.
"No, not really," he admitted. "I know I'll have to go to the military. My mom can't afford anything else without a GI bill, and well…"
"You hate the guys at the football team," Alex finished.
"Not all of them," Sam corrected his friend, shoving the cigarette in his face in an inadvertent motion. "Well, Lee is cool. And a couple others. But Rudy fuckin' hates me and the coach will bend over backwards for the star quarterback. You?" There was a bitterness to his voice.
"Eh, fair enough," Alex said, waving the smoke away. "I figured I'd go straight into college. I like photography. Maybe journalism."
"But you already have a twitter account."
They shared a laugh under the fading sun, short and sweet. Then it was silent again, excepting the rustle of leaves and the babbling of the brook.
"Right," Alex finished, sliding off the bannister. "Finish your goddamn cancer stick, you troubled child. Let's go before the wolves eat us. And the dude will chop up what remains."
"Mostly bones, I expect." Sam followed suit, dipping a hand in the rushing water and squeezing both fingers around the flame, then dropping it in a ziploc bag. "Right, gimme a sec to piss as God intended, then let's go."
"Ay, sure."
Sam had walked a good distance, further than it warranted for simple privacy. Everything was silent once more.
There was another shuffle of feet behind Sam.
Sam faced a tree, whistled tunelessly.
A cleaver glinted in the half dead sunlight.
The kid whirled around, the stench of sulfur crowning him, seizing a shadow of jowls, and lifting the specter behind him bodily. It was so light, Sam thought, something making that obvious of a crunch shouldn't feel like they were made out of cotton candy.
Fucking ghosts. At least his deadbeat dad did something good for him. "Okay, I'm gonna say this once," he hissed at the ghost, pinning it against the tree. Gone was the easy, laconic tones, replacing them was hissing that was more snake than man. "If you step out of this forest, if you follow me and him, I will kill you. If I smell your kid-diddler ass on him, I will find you." His eyes burned, two fluorescent photophores stabbing red light through the fading light. "And I will kill you again. And this time, it will hurt."
He wasn't speaking English anymore. The words burned crazy, senseless sigils in the ground, stamped themselves against paper-white bark. The ghost could only nod assent.
"Good." He let his hands loosen, the ghost fading away.
When he left, all he could think of was that he couldn't let Alex come here.
He'd see the burnt words and drag him off on a hunt for demons or whatever.
The next morning, when Sam's running clothes still wet with sweat, his phone dinged when he was halfway through a glass of water. It was the group chat. His heart dropped as he fumbled the phone, his sweaty thumb fudging the fingerprint lock. When he finally unlocked his phone, scrolling upwards through hundreds of messages, he arrived at the photo.
That damned photo.
Paul and Kristy came through, he gleaned from the messages, walking in the forest. And of course, because God hated him personally, the fuckin' words didn't blow away in the wind. And of course they had to post it to Instagram. And now, any moment now, there would be a DM, which would be from Alex, and it would be practically begging for him to go out there into the forest with him when they could be playing a couple rounds of NBA 2k19.
Ping!
There it is. 'Fine,' he texted, groaning while finished the cup. 'C u after school.' Then the phone went face down on the counter. He could probably play it off. How would Alex know where he pissed? That would be frankly creepy. So in the end, nothing was wasted but his free time. So there, he thought to himself, heading to the shower, nothing was really going to be made of it.
Before Sam left, he took a sniff of the house and replaced the air freshener to cover the sulfer smell with pine.