Remembering 'Michael Jackson's Thriller' 30 Years Later
News From the Dead Zone: You Can't Kill Stephen King
In early 2012, I saw the trailer for a campy movie called You Can’t Kill Stephen King about a group of young people vacationing near the author’s summer home who get killed off one at a time. The trailer promises a horror movie that breaks all the rules…by not breaking any. The project is described in tongue-in-cheek fashion: six stereotypical characters with weak story arcs, a town full of overacting antagonists, low-budget gratuitous violence and cheesy King references.
The nucleus of the story was written several years ago by Monroe Mann—an alumnus of the Fryeburg Academy in western Maine, whose staff was also involved in the production—and stand-up comedian Ronnie Khalil while they were vacationing in the lake house ultimately used in the film. Co-writer Bob Madia helped complete the script—he contributed much of the King lore and references. Mann and Khalil co-produced and team-directed with cinematographer Jorge Valdés-Iga, and they also star in the film.
Principle photography took place over a 19-day period. Valdés-Iga told NewEnglandFilm.com that the cast and crew—roughly thirty people—all lived together and filmed in the cabin, which was designed for five people. While this was fun at first, the close quarters turned production into a pressure cooker. “It slowly made us all want to kill each other,” he said. “But for some reason this created a ‘great’ energy for the film, since all the characters had to hate each other anyways.” Increasing the stress was the fact that three directors were trying to achieve a single vision. They developed a consensus system in which any two could outvote the third when there were disagreements.
The fictional town of Encomium (a word that means a speech or piece of writing that praises someone or something highly) stands in for the location of King’s home, the name having been changed to protect the author’s privacy. (Apparently at one point the filmmakers obtained a permit to shoot in the wrong town!) Mann sent the script to King and saw him at the local market during filming, but King declined their invitation to make a cameo appearance.
Naturally, I was intrigued. I contacted the filmmakers to see if I could get a review copy. At that point, they were still working out distribution deals. The movie played at a few festivals, including the Marche Du Film in Cannes, France, and won the People’s Choice Award at the second annual Lewiston Auburn Film Festival in 2012. (All proceeds from that screening—billed as its world premiere—were donated to the Kezar Lake Watershed Association.)
The Camelot Distribution Group picked up distribution rights to the movie, which was subsequently sold into a number of markets. It is available on DVD in Australia and New Zealand, and was shown on Turkish television and in theaters in Japan. Other Asian and European deals have been completed, though a North American release is still pending.
I reached out to the creative team again recently and they were able to provide me with a screener. After reading a few comments left on a King-themed message board by people who had seen the film, my expectations were low. Several reported giving up after only a few minutes. However, I was pleasantly surprised. A Return to Salem’s Lot is a bad film. Creepshow 3 is a terrible film. You Can’t Kill Stephen King is fun. It looks terrific and, for the most part, features strong performances. Valdés-Iga said that the directors tried to make sure the actors took the situation and the sometimes ridiculous dialogue seriously instead of playing for laughs, and in this they were mostly successful.
The set-up is indeed stereotypical and pure King. Three girls and three guys on vacation encounter a bunch of strange, taciturn Maine types. Monroe (Mann) is a former line cook from a ranger regiment who suffers from PTSD. Ronnie (Khalil) is a geeky King fan who hopes to catch sight of the author—he almost faints when he finds an autographed copy of the pop-up version of The Girl Who Loved Tom Gordon in the cabin’s basement. Lamont (Justin Brown), “the only black man in Maine,” loves his rap played loud. Monroe’s long-suffering girlfriend Lori is played by Kate Costello and his no-nonsense sister Hilary by Crystal Arnette. Rounding out the cast in more ways than one is Nicole (Kayle Blogna), the obligatory large-chested, self-absorbed airhead who Ronnie lusts after.
There’s actually a very funny idea underlying this story; however, it doesn’t become apparent until late in the film. There are several clues that will make sense once the truth is revealed, right down to the horror movie trope of creepy chanting. Pay close attention!
One at a time, the main characters are slaughtered, starting with Lamont. The remaining five friends (a term I use loosely) hole up in the remote cabin, except when circumstances send them out into the night to meet their gruesome fates. The murders are inspired by incidents from King’s short stories, including “Beachworld,” “Strawberry Spring” and “The Man Who Loved Flowers.”
The movie is littered with other King references, including: a disturbingly creepy clown (some things can never be un-seen); a boat named Christine; characters named Pangborn, Verrill, Dodd and Bachman; a host of quoted dialog from and references to Kubrick’s The Shining (Ronnie is reading the novel); and a tattoo in the shape of the Crimson King’s all-seeing eye. Despite all these inside jokes, Khalil says that you don’t have to be a die-hard King fan to enjoy the movie.
Don’t let me mislead you into thinking this is an Oscar contender; it’s not. It is, however, good fun and quite impressive given their obviously limited resources. While the cinematography is high quality, featuring aerial and underwater shots, the special effects are strictly low budget. The directors wisely chose to minimize the amount of blood and gore to avoid inundating viewers with cheesy visuals. I did get a kick out of the foley sound effects whenever anyone flashes a knife or when Monroe does his ranger stuff.
You Can’t Kill Stephen King has a wry sense of humor and it does an especially good job of building up false tension by relying on horror movie expectations. Ronnie’s character is a little too over the top compared to the others—Khalil says that in real life he’s creepy but not that creepy—who are at least marginally realistic despite being obvious stereotypes. Crystal Arnette’s performance is the most nuanced, but the others get the job done without embarrassing themselves too much.
If you get a chance to see this, stay through the inside-joke-filled credits (Assistant to Ronnie Khalil: Ronnie Khalil) for a final scene that horror movie fans should appreciate.
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Bev Vincent is the author of The Dark Tower Companion, The Stephen King Illustrated Companion and The Road to the Dark Tower. He has been writing “News from the Dead Zone” for Cemetery Dance for over a decade. He can be found online at bevvincent.com. Friend him on Facebook or follow his Twitter feed.
Unsettling Video Shows Parallels Between Zombies and Black Friday Shoppers
Though the day after Thanksgiving didn't officially become the busiest and most chaotic shopping day of the year until the early 2000s, George Romero more or less predicted the future in 1978 when he made Dawn of the Dead - a commentary and satire on consumerism that is even more relevant today than it was back in the 70s. So dangerous and insane has Black Friday shopping become that it's quite frankly hard to differentiate between footage of post-Thanksgiving shopping sprees and clips from zombie movies, which is a pretty damn frightening thing. Have we become the zombies of Romero's films, all in the name of getting a good deal?
In this well-timed mash-up video from Andrew Kasch, the director of the documentary Never Sleep Again, clips from Dawn of the Dead and other zombie movies are edited together with news footage of Black Friday shoppers at their worst, an unsettling mix that drives home the message Romero was sending all those years ago. No, dead people probably won't ever rise up from their graves and feast on our brains. But are us humans really that much better than those undead monsters of fiction? After watching this video, I think you'll find it incredibly hard to answer yes to that question...
Dangerous Games: 'Gloom' Board Game Review
'The Walking Dead' at New York Comic Con and Beyond
This season of The Walking Dead (based on the comic by producer Robert Kirkman) is on track to be one of the best seasons yet. It's receiving huge fan approval, and at the New York Comic Con the cast and crew gave fans some insight into the upcoming season and how they feel about their characters.
Already at the mid-season finale mark (see Alyse Wax's detailed recaps for more), we've seen the return of the Governor (David Morrissey); Carol (Melissa McBride) has been banished; and many of the new arrivals to the prison have died. It almost seemed for a time that Hershel (Scott Wilson) and/or Glenn (Steven Yeun) might die of the flu-like illness, with Maggie (Lauren Cohan) determined to join them. Carl (Chandler Riggs) is continuing to prove that – despite his father's wishes – he can protect himself and others. Michonne (Danai Gurira) is officially an irreplaceable member of the crew. And despite their struggles, or maybe because of them, the connections between Rick (Andrew Lincoln) and the core group have deepened.
One of the questions asked at NYCC was how invested fans should be in the new characters. The response was that fans should be completely invested. And keeping fans invested has been a major component of this season, just as in others. From the first episode, we are introduced to characters and made to care about them, only to lose them – sometimes by the end of the same episode. Norman Reedus (aka Daryl Dixon) and producer Gale Anne Hurd noted how fans' responses to The Walking Dead are incredible and part of what they strive for in the show.
The cast also talked about the fact that, at this point in the series, their characters are used to walkers – for the most part – so it's key to portray that, and find other ways to show that they can be caught off guard. Just seeing a walker isn't going to do it. And so far this season that has been true. The characters tend to get surprised by walkers when they are preoccupied with their own issues – with each other and with themselves.
It will be interesting to see what else Kirkman, producer and writer Scott M. Gimple, producer and make-up designer Greg Nicotero, Hurd and others will put the characters through this season. At NYCC, actress Danai Gurira hinted that fans should “beware within.” Undoubtedly, The Walking Dead has shown that – for some – being civilized is not so easy after civilization has collapsed.
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Nancy O. Greene started writing at the age of nine. Her short story collection, Portraits in the Dark, received a brief mention in The Year's Best Fantasy and Horror 2007. Other works have appeared or will appear in ChiZine; Lovecraft eZine; Cemetery Dance; Tales of Blood and Roses; Haunted: 11 Tales of Ghostly Horror; Shroud Publishing's The Terror at Miskatonic Falls; Dark Recesses; Flames Rising; Smile, Hon, You're in Baltimore!; and others. She has a BA in Cinematic Arts (Critical Studies) and a minor in English (Creative Writing) from the University of Southern California, and is a former Fellow of Film Independent's Project:Involve.
Bagged and Boarded Comic Reviews: Walking Dead, The Maxx Reprint, and More!
Zombie War No. 2
Here's another reprint from the good folks at IDW. I covered the first issue a few weeks back but here's the skinny. Written by Kevin Eastman (Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles), this comic first appeared in black and white. It's all about an alien that turns the military dead into warring zombies. In this issue, a lone pilot and the calamari-looking alien in charge of all this strike out against the zombie hordes. But is it too late?
UFO Spotted Hovering Over England
Photographer Rob Tibbles of the North Devon Journal in North Devon, England was taking pictures of a wind farm on the weekend of November 23rd, an ordinary photo-shoot that took a turn for the strange when Tibbles got home and examined the many photos he had snapped. The photographer was shocked to discover a strange object in the sky above the wind turbines, which he hadn't noticed while he was on location. A blemish in the photograph? Perhaps. Though other accounts from locals will lead you to believe otherwise.
After publishing the image in the Journal, several locals wrote in and reported similar sightings, including objects and bright lights in the sky. The most interesting of the reports came from Dulverton resident Jacqueline Leighton Boyce, who actually shot video footage to back up her claims of seeing a "strange, very large bright thing in the sky." You can check out that footage below.
The claim from a British military base is that they were engaged in a training exercise that Saturday, which they say explains the UFO sightings. Then again, that's precisely the explanation we always seem to get in cases such as this. Anyone who witnessed the display of aerial light is encouraged to contact the North Devon Journal with their stories.
Could this truly be an alien aircraft caught on film? Comment below and let us know what you think!
Mysterious River Monster Caught on Film in Thailand
Though I admit that I'm kind of annoyed by how much technology has taken over all of our lives, to the point that cell phones don't remain in pockets and purses even in movie theaters and restaurants, there is one big ole positive to everyone being glued to their high-tech phones at all times; when strange things go down, there are no shortage of cameras to document the bizarre happenings.
Over in Thailand's Mekong River, an incredibly unusual looking creature was recently spotted and caught on film, the video footage coming to our attention courtesy of the website Cryptomundo. Attached to the two-minute long video is absolutely no explanation or news report, as nobody seems to know what the hell was captured on film and seen by so many locals. All we can be sure of is that it looks like no sea creature that's ever been documented before. Check out the footage below and let us know what you think.
The Mekong River is no stranger to unusual sightings, as a massive 13-foot long stingray was recently caught there. Must be something in the water!
'Death Metal Christmas: Hellish Renditions of Christmas Classics'– Album Review
LAPD's 'Invasion of the Zombie Bandits!'
There are so many things gloriously wrong with this zombie PSA from LAPD: the nonsensical "plot;" the 1970s porno soundtrack; that the LAPD drives around with a chainsaw in their trunk; the dancing zombie clip art; the fact that in the land of big-budget blockbusters, this was the best they could come up with. What really terrifies me is that my tax dollars are going to this.
Capt. Jeffrey Bert is the braaaaains behind this video. “We were just trying to reach people. My captain’s video on what crime is up or down registered 57 hits. In four days, this has recorded 2,600 hits and growing. We said, 'Let's look at what pop culture does. Twenty million people watch Walking Dead. Well, zombies work, and we decided to keep it pretty G-rated.”
Source: LA Times
Gift Guide: Stack and Scare Monster Blocks
Get your kids started on a horrifically creative path with these Stack and Scare Monster Blocks. Wooden blocks in a variety of sizes and shapes are painted with eyeballs, mouths, scales, patterns, and other bits that you might find on a monster. The bright colors and simple lines will keep it from being too scary.
We won't tell your kids that you are playing with their toys after they go to bed.
Five More of Our Favorite Underrated Horror Directors
The big names in horror are often recognized by both the genre film community and mainstream entertainment culture. They are showered with accolades by horror fans and film critics, alike. Directors like John Carpenter, Tobe Hooper, and Wes Craven have secured their place in history, but many talented directors go unrecognized for their hard work and noteworthy contributions to the genre. To remedy that, we have begun a recurring segment that gives much needed credit to horror directors that aren’t always shown the recognition they deserve. You can check out part one here. Now we present five more of our favorites…
Richard Franklin With a string of well-made horror films under his belt, it’s a wonder that Richard Franklin didn’t get more acclaim within the genre film arena after arriving on the scene. Franklin helmed Psycho II, Patrick and the Hitchcockian pseudo-slasher Road Games. Despite being at the helm of several memorable horror features, Franklin is rarely acknowledged for his considerable contributions to genre film. It’s tough to say exactly why he never really developed a large following, but we still hold his work in high regard. Any horror fan unfamiliar with Franklin’s work should seek it out; we think you'll be pleased with what you find.
Dante Tomaselli is a master of ambiance. His films are dripping with intense atmosphere and always feature perfectly placed audio cues and haunting scores - which he personally composes for each film. Tomaselli has only put out four features over the span of his almost fifteen-year career, but each is a labor of love and represents the director’s finest work. He doesn’t just make films for financial gain; each feature is a labor of dedication and love that represents a piece of himself. Perhaps the reason Tomaselli hasn’t developed a higher profile is due to his film’s tendency to fly under the radar. His work is unique and eccentric, which, unfortunately, seems to have resulted in his features not receiving the level of exposure that they deserve. Tomaselli is a prolific and talented director and horror fans would be well advised to give any one of his films a go. Tomaselli’s first two films, Desecration and Horror, are out of print, but his third feature Satan’s Playground is available from Anchor Bay, and his latest project Torture Chamber is getting a DVD release on January 28th, 2014. if you haven’t had the pleasure, give Dante Tomaselli's work a look.
Book Review: 'Turn Down the Lights' Edited by Richard Chizmar
Do You Dare Visit the Ghost Ships of Mo‘ynoq?
Exclusive Interview with "Xx" Filmmaker Jovanka Vuckovic
'Paranormal Activity: The Marked Ones' - Will You Be The First?
Paranormal Activity: The Marked Ones comes to theaters January 3rd, but before that, the studio wants to get you involved:
That's all you get. What do you think the Paranormal people are up to? Judging by past Paranormal outings, the studio is planning on bringing the flick to theaters a week or so early, to select cities based on fan response. But then there is the tagline, "Join the hunt December 6th." Maybe this time around, instead of just signing up on a website, there is some kind of digital scavenger hunt. I guess we will have to wait until December 6th to find out.
Visual Essay Showcases the Artistry of Dario Argento
If you've ever seen the 2009 Belgian-French horror film Amer, then you know that the writing/directing duo of Helene Cattet and Bruno Forzani are big fans of Italian Giallo cinema, taking particular inspiration from the visually rich artistry of Dario Argento. Up next from the pair is another heavily Giallo-inspired effort called The Strange Colour of Your Body's Tears, centering around a husband's nightmarish journey to find his wife, who has mysteriously vanished.
Such big fans of Argento's work are Cattet and Forzani that they cut together a stunning visual essay for the French channel Arte which pays tribute to their hero, exploring and examining the themes and repeated images that are present in his many films - from black gloves to frightened eyeballs, breaking glass to a whole lot of water. In just four minutes, they've managed to pack everything we love about Dario Argento and his movies into the video, which is a must-watch for any and all fans of his films.
Check out the visual essay below, which comes to us courtesy of Twitch!
Game Review: 'Batman: Arkham Origins'
Rocksteady’s Batman: Arkham City did many things right: it managed to distill all of the things that make the Dark Knight a compelling character into a cohesive game that finally got Batman right. It gave us his martial arts training, his second-to-none detective abilities, and his utility belt full of gadgets, and combined all of these factors into a game that was deep, compelling, and most of all fun. It also did one thing wrong: its ending, which left the Joker dead and a mourning Harley Quinn trying to fill the grinning void in his empire, painted the Arkham canon into one hell of a corner.
The obvious, and not necessarily the best solution to this problem? Make the third game into a prequel! WB Games handed the reins of development over to their internal studio in Montreal to explore Batman’s early years (again) in Batman: Arkham Origins, a title that gets a few things right, but manages to get a few things wrong in a game that manages to maintain Arkham’s free-roaming spirit, but lacks the punch of previous efforts.
Set in the early years of Bruce Wayne’s mission of beating the hell out of the mentally ill, Arkham Origins takes place on Christmas Eve, with the skull-masked sadist Black Mask putting a $50 million bounty on Batman’s head. As a result, a septet of deadly assassins comes out of the woodwork, looking to bulk up their resumes and their wallets by killing the Caped Crusader. There’s a fairly well-telegraphed plot twist that, sadly, manages to cheapen the story slightly (poor Black Mask’s marquee is quickly reduced to a supporting role), but the plot as a whole feels pretty by-the-numbers, especially in the wake of two rock-solid Arkham games. The biggest issue with the prequel plot, however, comes from its lack of dramatic tension. We know which characters will make it out from the get-go, and the secondary characters have so little impact that you won’t even wince if they’re murdered or maimed.
The other issue comes from the lack of innovation. There are so few additions to the formula that it feels like a retread at best, and the additions that are there are such a blatant deus ex machina at times (the electric gauntlets are especially guilty of this) that it detracts dramatically from any possible gains.
That’s not to say that WB Montreal doesn’t try to forge their own identity at times. While everything will feel pretty familiar to Bat-veterans, the prequel status lets us see Batman at an angrier, rawer state. This is reflected in numerous ways: the free-flow combat feels more brutal, and Batman’s cool-headed demeanor occasionally shows a crack as emotional cues push him into more violent territory. It’s a unique take that gives us a few tasty hints at a more vulnerable vigilante.
While my gripes against Arkham Origins may sound damning, it retains so much of its predecessors’ DNA that it’s still a worthwhile romp through Gotham City. It’s as fun as it ever was, but it does so little new or unique that it doesn’t have the same impact as it could have. Check your expectations at the door, and you’re sure to enjoy yourself.
Peek Inside the Transparent Head of this Creepy Deep-Sea Fish
Nightmare Presents: 57 Reasons for the Slate Quarry Suicides
FEARnet is proud to present brand new fiction from Nightmare Magazine. Once a month, we'll be featuring a story from Nightmare’s current issue. This month's selection is “57 Reasons for the Slate Quarry Suicides” by Sam. J. Miller. Please tell us what you think and enjoy!
57 Reasons for the Slate Quarry Suicides
Sam J. Miller
1. Because it would take the patience of a saint or Dalai Lama to smilingly turn the other cheek to those six savage boys day after day, to emerge unembittered from each new round of psychological and physical assaults; whereas I, Jared Shumsky, aged sixteen, have many things, like pimples and the bottom bunk bed in a trailer, and clothes that smell like cherry car air fresheners, but no particular strength or patience.
2. Because God, or the universe, or karma, or Charles Darwin, gave me a different strength, one that terrified me until I learned what it was, and how to control it, and how to use it as the instrument of my brutal and magnificent and long-postponed vengeance.
3. Because I loved Anchal, with the fierceness and devotion that only a gay boy can feel for the girl who has his back, who takes the Cosmo sex quiz with him, who listens to his pointless yammerings about his latest crush, who puts herself between him and his bullies so often that the bullies’ wrath is ultimately re-routed onto her.
4. Because after the Albany Academy swim meet, while I was basking in the bliss of a shower that actually spouts hot water—a luxury our backwoods public school lacks—I was bodily seized by my six evil teammates, and dragged outside, and deposited there in the December cold, naked, wet, spluttering, pounding on the door, screaming, imagining hypothermia, penile frostbite, until the door opened, and an utterly uninterested girl opened the door and let me in and said, “Jeez, calm down.”
5. Because it’s not so simple as evil bullies in need of punishment; because their bodies were too beautiful to hate and their eyes too lovely to simply gouge out; because every one of them was adorable in his own way, but they all had the musculature and arrogance of Olympic swimmers, which I lacked, being only five-six of quivery scrawn; because I loved swimming too much to quit the team—the silence of the water and how alone you were when you were in it, the caustic reek of chlorine and the twilight bus rides to strange schools and the sight of so much male skin; and because of those moments, on the ride home from Canajoharie or Schaghticoke or Albany, in the rattling, medicine-smelling short bus normally reserved for the mentally challenged, with the coach snoring and everyone else asleep or staring out the window watching the night roll by, when I was part of the team, when I was connected to people; when I belonged somewhere.
6. Because I had spent the past six months practicing; on animals at first, and after the first time I tried it on my cat she shrieked and never came near me again, but my dog was not so smart, and even though his eyes showed raw animal panic while I was working him he kept coming back every time I took my hand away and released him, and pretty soon working the animals was easy, the field of control forming in the instant my fingertips touched them, their brains like switches I could turn off and on at will, turning their bodies into mirrors for my own, but I still couldn’t figure out a way to harm them.
7. Because once, while she slept, in my basement, engorged on candy and gossip and bad television, I tried my gift on Anchal, and it was much harder on a human, because she was so much bigger and her brain so much more complex and therefore more difficult to disable, and even though I tried to only do things that would not disturb her, her eyes fluttered open and then immediately narrowed in suspicion and fear, the wiser animal part of her brain recognizing me as a threat before the dumb easily-duped mammalian intellect intervened and said, no, wait, this is your friend, he would never do anything to hurt you, and she smiled a blood-hungry smile and leaned forward and said, “How the hell did you do that?”
8. Because Mrs. Burgess assigned us Edgar Allan Poe’s “Hop-Frog” for English class, which helped my vengeance take shape, and because none of the boys had read it.
9. Because Anchal did read it, and came to me, after school, eyes all laughing fire at the ideas the protagonist gave her—Hop-Frog, that squat, deformed little dwarf who murdered the cruel king and his six fat ministers in a dazzling spectacle of burned flesh and screaming death, and her excitement was infectious, and we worked on my gift for hours, until turning her into a puppet was as easy as believing she was one.
10. Because Carrie came on television that same night.
11. Because I am an idiot who still hasn’t learned how stories and movies mislead us, showing us how things ought to end up, which is never how they do; and because stories are oracles whose prophecies we can’t unravel until it is too late.
12. Because Anchal worked long and hard on the revenge scenario, sketching out all the ways my gift could be used to cause maximum devastation, all the ways we could transform our enemies into an ugly spectacle that would show the whole world what monsters they truly were.
13. Because I didn’t listen when she said we would have to kill them, that they were sick sons of bitches and would never stop being sick sons of bitches. Because I still believed that they could be mine.
14. Because Anchal, equal parts Indian and Indian—Native American and Hindu—always smelled like wood smoke, lived with her Cherokee mom in a tiny house barely better than a cabin, and so I thought that she was invincible, heiress to noble, durable traditions far better than my own impoverished Caucasian ones, and that she could survive whatever the world might throw at her. And because she was beautiful; because she was smart and strong; because boys flocked to her; because she knew that if there was one sure thing we could depend upon, it was that teenaged boys were a lot more likely to make dumb decisions when lust was addling their brains.
15. Because Spencer, alone among my swim team mates, would smile at me for no reason, and speak to me sometimes when the others weren’t around, and because some tiny actions gave me hope that he too was gay, and that we were each other’s destinies.
16. Because Rex, on the other hand, an ogre of rare and excellent proportions, thick-headed but shrewd when it came to cruelty, served as the ringleader, and just as they had all obeyed him in his plan to pour Kool-Aid into Anchal’s locker as punishment for stopping them from stomping my skull in, so I knew that he was the linchpin, the only one I would need to work, and that once I had him, the others would fall.
17. Because coach was sick that day, and our next meet wasn’t for a week, so we had the day off from practice, an unheard-of gift of free time, and I knew that this was our shot, and we couldn’t waste it, so I texted Anchal We are GO and then after school, while Rex was alone in the weight room, I stood outside in the hallway and called her cell, and said in a maybe-a-little-bit-too-loud voice, “Hey, so, I got a couple hours to kill, wanna meet me by the slate quarries in an hour, maybe bring some of your mama’s vodka?” and she said, “Yes,” and I said, “Great,” and whistled while I walked away.
18. Because I hid myself in a darkened classroom where I could watch the weight room through the window in the door, and I saw how Rex called them all into a huddle when they arrived from their own classes, and they rubbed their hands or licked their lips or punched each other in the arm in glee, and then they left, as one, and I knew the bait had been taken.
19. Because they had their bicycles and I had mine, and after they left I let five minutes go by, and if I had stuck to that timeline everything would have gone exactly according to plan.
20. Because as I was about to unlock my bike I heard someone holler my name, and I swooned at the sound of it in Spencer’s mouth, and I stopped, and saw him standing sweaty and tank-topped at the cafeteria window, smiling, nervous, looking exactly like he always did in the dreams where we finally told each other our separate, identical secrets, and said “Can I maybe talk to you for a minute?”
21. Because I have an easily-duped mammalian intellect of my own, and because if there’s one thing you can depend upon, it’s that teenage boys are a lot more likely to make dumb decisions when lust is addling their brains.
22. Because I went to him, and said, “Hey,” and he said, “Hey,” and we stood there like that for a second, and his pale skin had the same faint green-blue tint as mine from soaking in chlorine four hours a day for months, and his eyes were two tiny swimming pools, and somehow there wasn’t a single pimple anywhere on him. And he said “That Edgar Allan Poe shit was pretty fucked up, wasn’t it?” and I laughed and said that yes, it was, and my heart was loud in my throat and it had hijacked my brain and I could not disobey it, through several long minutes of small talk, even while I knew what it meant for Anchal.
23. Because he smiled and said, “Do you think I could, I don’t know, come over some time?” and I grinned so hard it hurt, and said “Yeah, yes, sure, that’d be great,” while my mind scrolled through a zoetrope of blurry images, heavy petting on the bean bag chair in my basement, pale skin warming pale skin, us walking hand-in-hand through the hallowed horrible halls of Hudson High, me and Spencer against the world, my heinous monastic celibacy broken.
24. Because his phone buzzed, then, and he took it out and looked at it and then looked at me and said “Yeah, uh, so, I should be going,” and I saw at once that my plan had been seen through, my timeline tampered with, and I knew what even these six minutes of delay might mean for Anchal—and I left him in midsentence, and ran for my bike and pedaled as hard as I could, heading for the slate quarries.
25. Because the long rocky road in to the quarry was littered with giant jutting slabs of slate, obscuring my view and slowing me down, so I didn’t see her, or any of them, until I arrived at the top of the quarry and saw Anchal standing her ground, the five of them in a semicircle around her, but nothing between her and a drop to the jagged rocks and quarry lagoon below, and her face was bruised and bleeding but she was still on her feet and holding something in her hand, and she turned, and saw me, and saw Spencer coming close behind, and knew what I had done, how my weakness had hurt her, how only her own strength had saved her from the horrific fate I abandoned her to, and she knew, in that moment, exactly what I was, and what I was was a sick son of a bitch just like the rest of them.
26. Because Rex had taken off his jacket, and his sweater, and his shirt, even though it was mid-December twilight, and he was freezing, and goosebumps armored his torso, and he turned and smiled when he saw me ride up, and said, “Hold on for a minute, boys, let me just take care of something first.”
27. Because I tossed my bike to the ground and advanced on him, unafraid for once in my life, because guilt and shame over how weak I was had overpowered the fear of physical pain that usually held me back, and one of them laughed with surprise at my aggressiveness and said, “Damn, Rex, look out,” and I yelled, “Get away from her you pigs!” and Rex laughed and said, “Or what? You’ll take us all on? All six of us?”—for Spencer had taken Rex’s spot in the semicircle—and I said, “I’ll kill you all,” and I knew, hearing myself say it, that it was true, that Anchal was right, that there was no way not to kill them, that being a threat was who they were, and only death would make them cease to be one.
28. Because Rex said, “Come on then!” and I reached out for him, and he evaded me, and I reached again with the other arm and he leapt back, and I wasn’t throwing fists because all I had to do was touch him, bare skin to bare skin, to possess him.
29. Because the terrible thought occurred to me, when Rex had successfully dodged several of my grabs, and threw his arm out at me, not in a fist but in the same extended-finger grip as mine, What if I’m not the only one with this gift?
30. Because our fight looked more like a ballet than a battle, ducking and leaping and flinging our arms out, and I was gaining ground, pushing him back toward the circle and the ledge, and his friends were laughing but in a nervous kind of way, and because I knew that he was thrown off balance by trying not to make eye contact with any of his fellow thugs, but that so was I, in my efforts to avoid looking into Anchal’s eyes, for fear of what I’d find there.
31. Because Anchal’s arm shot out then, and sprayed the little mace canister in Rex’s eyes, and he stopped like someone pushed pause, and I struck his bare shoulder with one triumphant palm.
32. Because his scream of pain was cut short in that instant, and we stood like that, frozen, touching, for a solid thirty seconds, while I battled Rex for control of his body, and I saw how ill-advised this plan had been, because only the pain and confusion caused by Anchal’s mace kept him from easily turning my gift back on me, and if any of his friends had touched me my control would have been broken and I’d surely have died that day.
33. Because none of them did touch me.
34. Because once I had Rex, the rest were easy.
35. Because I reached out my left arm and Rex reached out his in a precise mirror-motion, and touched it to the right arm of the boy standing beside him, and now when I reached out with my left arm both boys reached out with theirs, and touched the next boy, and so on, until all six boys, including Spencer, were linked hand to hand with me, and every move I made, they made.
36. Because my gift had established a field of control that no longer depended on mere touch, and when I took my hand away the boys were my vassals, my puppets, unable to move or speak on their own, free will gone, their hearts pumping at precisely the same rate as mine, their lungs taking in and casting out air in perfect rhythm with my breath.
37. Because I, on the other hand, felt nothing at all beyond the slight tension of the muscles that I always felt when I used my gift.
38. Because I raised my arms and they raised theirs; I jumped and so did they; I let loose a wolf call matched by six baying voices.
39. Because their eyes, I was surprised to learn, retained their autonomy, and the semicircle now showed me an impressive ocular display of hatred, fear, pain, anger.
40. Because Anchal stood up, and looked at me, and unlike my captive animals her eyes told me nothing, and she ran, silently, into the dark, and when I called her name those six boys said it too.
41. Because I let a long time pass, standing, listening, waiting for her to come back.
42. Because she didn’t.
43. Because it is not a simple thing, to kill a man who mimics your every move.
44. Because Anchal chose the slate quarry for just that purpose.
45. Because I squatted, and they squatted, and I picked up a heavy rock, and their hands closed on nothingness, and I stood, and they stood, and I hoisted the rock over my head, and they raised their empty hands up just as high, and I threw the rock as hard as I could at Rex’s head, and they made the same gesture.
46. Because Rex could neither flinch nor blink nor budge as the rock struck his face, nor even snap his head back to soften the impact by moving with the rock’s inertia, and blood covered his face in seconds, and in the darkness we could smell the blood but not see the extent of the damage, and now every emotion other than terror was gone from those eyes.
47. Because I spoke, then—I shouted, and their screams formed around my words, a ghastly chorus of doomed men, echoing: “Once I dreamed of being one of you, of having your bodies, of moving so easily and fearlessly through the world, of belonging so effortlessly to a group of friends—but now that I can taste it for myself, now that I have your bodies, now that I am you, all of you, I see it for the horrid meaningless thing that it is.”
48. Because the speech was not for them, and I’d spent a long time practicing it, and I was proud of it, but its intended audience was gone, fled, betrayed and hurt, by me.
49. Because suddenly my anger was gone, replaced by shame, and I had no more energy for our plan of a moment ago, of slowly but surely inducing them to bash each other to bits, to leave a grisly mess for forensic scientists to spend decades puzzling over.
50. Because the water at the bottom of the quarry was still an eerie blue with the light from the sky, even though the sun had already slipped past the horizon.
51. Because they were all standing so much closer than I was to the uneven lip of the quarry, and I reached out my arms and clasped my hands on air, so they were linked up in a human chain, and I ran and leapt and they went over the edge but I still had another three feet of solid ground ahead of me.
52. Because I stepped forward and looked down and there they were, far below, their backs to me, waist-deep in water and looking down into it, still holding hands, some of them unable to stand on broken legs, and there was blood in the water.
53. Because it was more from weariness than anything else when I lay down on the ground, head pressed to the dirt, and I knew even though I couldn’t see them that they were all fully underwater, and I opened my mouth and breathed in that sweet cold December night air and then breathed it out, breathed it in and breathed it out, until the tension slackened in my muscles and I knew the field was broken, because they had drowned.
54. Because I got up off the ground knowing I had lost her forever, that she had seen straight through to the cold twisted heart of who I was. And in seeing who I was, she had shown me myself.
55. Because I had been too dumb to see how this power, this privilege I didn’t want but had nonetheless, far from helping me to see, had blinded me to the truth of who we were.
56. Because in the movie, Carrie’s punishment for killing her foes was to die, and mine was to live.
57. Because Anchal knew what I did not: that we are what we are, and we act it out without wanting to, and only death can break us of the habit of being the bodies we’re born into.
[end]
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Nightmare Magazine is edited by bestselling anthology editor John Joseph Adams (Wastelands, The Living Dead). This story first appeared in Nightmare Magazine’s December 2013 issue, which also features original fiction by David J. Schow (“A Home in the Dark”), along with reprints by Connie Willis (“Distress Signal”) and Conrad Williams (“The Owl”). We also have the latest installment of our column on horror, “The H Word,” plus author spotlights with our authors, a showcase on our cover artist, and a feature interview with acclaimed author Joe R. Lansdale. You can wait for the rest of this month's contents to be serialized online, or you can buy the whole issue right now in convenient eBook format for just $2.99. It's a great issue, so be sure to check it out. And while you're at it, tell a friend about Nightmare!