It's that time of year again, my faithful readers. My friend and author Eric Douglas is hosting another Halloween fiction event on his website, and this is my contribution to it.
You can find the 2018 stories here. I encourage y'all to visit his site and read what he and others will have to offer.
You can find the 2018 stories here. I encourage y'all to visit his site and read what he and others will have to offer.
For my new readers, any link you click will open in a new window. You will still have this page open to you without having to backtrack. Clicking on any photo will display a larger version of it in a new window as well.
image from Google search
This year's creation is about a poor soul who attended a game night that went horribly wrong.
So, without further ado, I present you with:
Game Night
image from Google search
Journal entry, November 7th:
After what's been happening these past several days, I thought I'd better record all the facts in this journal. Nobody will believe it anyway, but I need to write all this down. Has it been only a week since it happened? It already feels like a lifetime ago. Maybe it was. I guess I better start at the beginning. If you are reading this, I can only hope that everything is normal again, whatever "normal" is anymore.
My girlfriend Tasha and I host game night every Saturday at our condo. Our friends bring their favorite board game and a dish to contribute to a potluck dinner. Sometimes we just order pizza or Chinese for delivery. Tasha insists on making the dessert though. Crap, why am I wasting time with trivial details? I don't have time for trivial details right now. Come on, Ernie, get yourself together and focus!
This past Wednesday was Halloween, so our regular group decided to have a special game night. So what if it was a work night? Arnold and his wife Nancy host this exchange student from Wales, and decided to bring one of his games that he brought over with him. We've had Eurig over for game night before, and his Goth appearance should've been a clue to his tastes in games. Apparently, this game is popular with his type all over Wales, and he described it to Arnold as an "intensely realistic" role-playing game.
Nancy told us it was called "Goroeswr Enaid," which loosely translates to "Soul Survivor." We would play as a clan, cooperatively trying to match wits with supernatural forces that we would summon with incantations and common household items. Would we capture the souls of the various demons and ghosts, or would we lose our souls to them? Game on!
Eurig translated the rules for us, and as Arnold started setting up the game, I got a good look at it. A rolled scroll looked like human skin, which was a nice touch if you were into that kind of thing. A sort of pentagram was printed onto this scroll in what looked like dried blood. Whoever created this game put a lot of effort into making it look creepy, and they succeeded in spades.
My first indication that maybe we should've played something else was the requirement that we each had to place three drops of our blood into the white bowl. Wait, we have to use real blood in this game? What the hell? As I was about to back out of this game with the excuse that I didn't want an infected finger, Karen reached into her purse and pulled out her blood sugar testing kit.
"Here we go, guys, we can use my test kit and get blood this way. It's sterile so we won't have to worry about infection."
Great, there went my excuse. I still thought it was morbid, though.
"Hey, in order for us to be a true clan, we must share a common blood bond." As Arnold swirled the white bowl with our collective blood, the black bowl on the other side of the pentagram twitched. All of us looked at each other, but blew it off as an effect from the ceiling fan. A peal of thunder shook the windows and all of us jumped.
I don't know why we were surprised, as the forecast called for thunderstorms throughout the night. Tasha, in her best Slavic accent, tried to lighten the mood with a "It was a dark and stormy night" comment. We all giggled nervously and glanced at each other.
Eurig's notes said to add some salt to the black bowl and place animal blood and soil from a cemetery in it. Nancy removed two plastic baggies from her purse and smiled.
"It's chicken blood from the meat market and some dirt from Eternal Pines. Eurig and his friends did a seance there the other night and he collected some for me."
Crap. No backing out now. As soon as Nancy added all the ingredients, the black bowl started spinning and another loud clap of thunder made us all scream.
Then the power failed.
We all sat there in stunned silence, wondering what to do next when an icy blast swirled through the room.
The next thing we knew, it was dawn and we were still sitting in a circle. All of us had a bloody nose and felt sore all over, like we had been in a bad car wreck.
Arnold and Nancy exchanged a look as she asked us all "What the hell just happened here?"
I wish I knew. The black bowl was inverted, and the white bowl looked like it had been licked clean. I don't think any of us would've done that, and we don't have cats, so I was at a loss. We decided to go home or go to work. Tasha and I decided to call in sick at work and shower and rest. I would love to know what happened to all those lost hours.
On Friday the second, our game group decided to go ahead and have another game night on Saturday as usual, but not with Soul Survivor. Screw that! We hadn't heard from Jerry or Blake, but figured they'd eventually let us know. They were always deciding things at the last minute. Neither have been on Facebook, which was very unusual for them. Both were typically very active on Facebook and Twitter, but the complete absence of any posts from them made it seem like they had fallen off the face of the earth. Come to think of it, they hadn't answered any texts, either. Very strange.
By Saturday afternoon, the rest of the group had canceled on us, citing different reasons. Arnold and Nancy were having some sort of difficulty with Eurig, and Karen was sick in bed. Even Tasha felt out of sorts. Fine, so be it.
I'll give it until tomorrow and send a group message out to see about this coming Saturday.
Journal entry, November 9th:
What is going on?? Nobody has heard from either Jerry or Blake. We've left voicemail on both of their phones, sent multiple texts and messages through Facebook, but haven't heard anything from them. Very weird! Maybe they had a fight and are trying to work things out. Still, though, it's not cool for them to totally ignore our messages like that.
Arnold and Nancy said Eurig has been insufferable to be around, acting belligerent to them and having a constant smirk on his face. Nancy texted Tasha saying she was getting strange vibes from Eurig, like he was reading her thoughts.
Karen's diabetes has been flaring up, and she can't seem to control her blood sugar.
I guess game night is off for this Saturday as well. Bummer!
Journal entry, November 10th:
With game night canceled, Tasha and I were going to the movies when she got a call from Blake's mother. Apparently he called her, and sounded strange, as if coming out of anesthesia. He told her that both he and Jerry were going out of town for some alone time and that they would be in touch. Blake's mom sounded worried and told Tasha that was very out of character for both of them.
Tasha got several strange voice mail messages from "unavailable" numbers. Some jerk was pranking her, and speaking in some strange language, probably made up. It creeped Tasha out so much that she didn't want to go out after that. We'll just order a pizza and watch something innocuous on TV. Neither of us is up for anything too intense tonight.
Journal entry, November 12th:
I can't believe I'm having to write this. Holy crap! Karen's boyfriend found her dead in her bed this morning! He said she seemed to finally be getting her blood sugar under control when he found her body in bed, withered as if she'd been dead for months. This just can't be. Things like this happen only in the movies. Come to think of it, we haven't heard from Arnold and Nancy for the past couple of days, and we still haven't heard anything from Jerry or Blake. Nothing at all. If this is all an elaborate prank by the group, I'm gonna be pissed! This is not funny!
Journal entry, November 14th:
It's now been two weeks since.....that night. Karen is really dead. We read her obituary in the paper, and arrangements are pending for her funeral after an autopsy. Arnold left the strangest voicemail on my phone. Eurig and Nancy had a huge argument, and after he said something in Welsh Nancy doubled over in agony, clutching her stomach. He's at the hospital now, and they are running tests on her. They aren't letting anyone see her, even Arnold. Still not a peep from Jerry or Blake. It's not like we can even go to the police over this, either. Maybe a priest?
Journal entry, November 15th:
Tasha and I are stunned. Nancy is gone. Arnold called me early this morning with the news. The attending physician has ordered an autopsy, and based on what he described to Arnold, Nancy died the same way Karen did. This is getting way too creepy! Arnold hasn't been home since he took Nancy to the hospital. He's staying at a hotel, but won't tell us where. He's afraid Eurig will find him. Maybe it's just my imagination, but I'm not too fond of being around Eurig right now, either.
Journal entry, November 16th:
Blake's mom called Tasha this afternoon. Both his and Jerry's bodies were found clear across the country in an old Scottish cemetery. Both looked like mere husks of their former selves, according to the police photos conveyed to Blake's mom. Tasha is really freaked out by all of this, and wants us to leave and go into hiding. Had she said this a week ago, I would've laughed in her face. Now? I think she's right.
Journal entry, November 17th:
This is just nuts! I just got a text from Arnold's phone: "I'm next. You and Tasha need to leave NOW. Get out! It's too late for me."
I tried to call him back, but his phone went straight to voicemail. That's it. Tasha and I are packing a bag and leaving. To hell with this! We're outta here.
Excerpt from Salem PD, case number H-2018-21259, Salem, Massachusetts:
Two decedents found in Broad Street Cemetery. One male, tentatively identified as Ernie Hutchings and one female tentatively identified as Natasha Tarasov. Both bodies appear to be victims of ritualistic murder. Autopsies pending on both. Special note is made of papers found on male decedent, which appear to be a diary. This "diary" appears to be written by a single person, with the exception of the last sentence. The last sentence is in an apparent different hand. A facsimile of which follows:
Case to be referred to the FBI due to apparent multi-state jurisdiction.
Nancy told us it was called "Goroeswr Enaid," which loosely translates to "Soul Survivor." We would play as a clan, cooperatively trying to match wits with supernatural forces that we would summon with incantations and common household items. Would we capture the souls of the various demons and ghosts, or would we lose our souls to them? Game on!
Eurig translated the rules for us, and as Arnold started setting up the game, I got a good look at it. A rolled scroll looked like human skin, which was a nice touch if you were into that kind of thing. A sort of pentagram was printed onto this scroll in what looked like dried blood. Whoever created this game put a lot of effort into making it look creepy, and they succeeded in spades.
My first indication that maybe we should've played something else was the requirement that we each had to place three drops of our blood into the white bowl. Wait, we have to use real blood in this game? What the hell? As I was about to back out of this game with the excuse that I didn't want an infected finger, Karen reached into her purse and pulled out her blood sugar testing kit.
"Here we go, guys, we can use my test kit and get blood this way. It's sterile so we won't have to worry about infection."
Great, there went my excuse. I still thought it was morbid, though.
"Hey, in order for us to be a true clan, we must share a common blood bond." As Arnold swirled the white bowl with our collective blood, the black bowl on the other side of the pentagram twitched. All of us looked at each other, but blew it off as an effect from the ceiling fan. A peal of thunder shook the windows and all of us jumped.
I don't know why we were surprised, as the forecast called for thunderstorms throughout the night. Tasha, in her best Slavic accent, tried to lighten the mood with a "It was a dark and stormy night" comment. We all giggled nervously and glanced at each other.
Eurig's notes said to add some salt to the black bowl and place animal blood and soil from a cemetery in it. Nancy removed two plastic baggies from her purse and smiled.
"It's chicken blood from the meat market and some dirt from Eternal Pines. Eurig and his friends did a seance there the other night and he collected some for me."
Crap. No backing out now. As soon as Nancy added all the ingredients, the black bowl started spinning and another loud clap of thunder made us all scream.
Then the power failed.
We all sat there in stunned silence, wondering what to do next when an icy blast swirled through the room.
The next thing we knew, it was dawn and we were still sitting in a circle. All of us had a bloody nose and felt sore all over, like we had been in a bad car wreck.
Arnold and Nancy exchanged a look as she asked us all "What the hell just happened here?"
I wish I knew. The black bowl was inverted, and the white bowl looked like it had been licked clean. I don't think any of us would've done that, and we don't have cats, so I was at a loss. We decided to go home or go to work. Tasha and I decided to call in sick at work and shower and rest. I would love to know what happened to all those lost hours.
On Friday the second, our game group decided to go ahead and have another game night on Saturday as usual, but not with Soul Survivor. Screw that! We hadn't heard from Jerry or Blake, but figured they'd eventually let us know. They were always deciding things at the last minute. Neither have been on Facebook, which was very unusual for them. Both were typically very active on Facebook and Twitter, but the complete absence of any posts from them made it seem like they had fallen off the face of the earth. Come to think of it, they hadn't answered any texts, either. Very strange.
By Saturday afternoon, the rest of the group had canceled on us, citing different reasons. Arnold and Nancy were having some sort of difficulty with Eurig, and Karen was sick in bed. Even Tasha felt out of sorts. Fine, so be it.
I'll give it until tomorrow and send a group message out to see about this coming Saturday.
Journal entry, November 9th:
What is going on?? Nobody has heard from either Jerry or Blake. We've left voicemail on both of their phones, sent multiple texts and messages through Facebook, but haven't heard anything from them. Very weird! Maybe they had a fight and are trying to work things out. Still, though, it's not cool for them to totally ignore our messages like that.
Arnold and Nancy said Eurig has been insufferable to be around, acting belligerent to them and having a constant smirk on his face. Nancy texted Tasha saying she was getting strange vibes from Eurig, like he was reading her thoughts.
Karen's diabetes has been flaring up, and she can't seem to control her blood sugar.
I guess game night is off for this Saturday as well. Bummer!
Journal entry, November 10th:
With game night canceled, Tasha and I were going to the movies when she got a call from Blake's mother. Apparently he called her, and sounded strange, as if coming out of anesthesia. He told her that both he and Jerry were going out of town for some alone time and that they would be in touch. Blake's mom sounded worried and told Tasha that was very out of character for both of them.
Tasha got several strange voice mail messages from "unavailable" numbers. Some jerk was pranking her, and speaking in some strange language, probably made up. It creeped Tasha out so much that she didn't want to go out after that. We'll just order a pizza and watch something innocuous on TV. Neither of us is up for anything too intense tonight.
Journal entry, November 12th:
I can't believe I'm having to write this. Holy crap! Karen's boyfriend found her dead in her bed this morning! He said she seemed to finally be getting her blood sugar under control when he found her body in bed, withered as if she'd been dead for months. This just can't be. Things like this happen only in the movies. Come to think of it, we haven't heard from Arnold and Nancy for the past couple of days, and we still haven't heard anything from Jerry or Blake. Nothing at all. If this is all an elaborate prank by the group, I'm gonna be pissed! This is not funny!
Journal entry, November 14th:
It's now been two weeks since.....that night. Karen is really dead. We read her obituary in the paper, and arrangements are pending for her funeral after an autopsy. Arnold left the strangest voicemail on my phone. Eurig and Nancy had a huge argument, and after he said something in Welsh Nancy doubled over in agony, clutching her stomach. He's at the hospital now, and they are running tests on her. They aren't letting anyone see her, even Arnold. Still not a peep from Jerry or Blake. It's not like we can even go to the police over this, either. Maybe a priest?
Journal entry, November 15th:
Tasha and I are stunned. Nancy is gone. Arnold called me early this morning with the news. The attending physician has ordered an autopsy, and based on what he described to Arnold, Nancy died the same way Karen did. This is getting way too creepy! Arnold hasn't been home since he took Nancy to the hospital. He's staying at a hotel, but won't tell us where. He's afraid Eurig will find him. Maybe it's just my imagination, but I'm not too fond of being around Eurig right now, either.
Journal entry, November 16th:
Blake's mom called Tasha this afternoon. Both his and Jerry's bodies were found clear across the country in an old Scottish cemetery. Both looked like mere husks of their former selves, according to the police photos conveyed to Blake's mom. Tasha is really freaked out by all of this, and wants us to leave and go into hiding. Had she said this a week ago, I would've laughed in her face. Now? I think she's right.
Journal entry, November 17th:
This is just nuts! I just got a text from Arnold's phone: "I'm next. You and Tasha need to leave NOW. Get out! It's too late for me."
I tried to call him back, but his phone went straight to voicemail. That's it. Tasha and I are packing a bag and leaving. To hell with this! We're outta here.
Excerpt from Salem PD, case number H-2018-21259, Salem, Massachusetts:
Two decedents found in Broad Street Cemetery. One male, tentatively identified as Ernie Hutchings and one female tentatively identified as Natasha Tarasov. Both bodies appear to be victims of ritualistic murder. Autopsies pending on both. Special note is made of papers found on male decedent, which appear to be a diary. This "diary" appears to be written by a single person, with the exception of the last sentence. The last sentence is in an apparent different hand. A facsimile of which follows:
Rwy'n ennill. Fi yw'r enaid sydd wedi goroesi.
Case to be referred to the FBI due to apparent multi-state jurisdiction.
The End
I hope you enjoyed this spooky short as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Coming up next, I will begin posting a day-by-blog of our most recent cruise on the Carnival Freedom to the Eastern Caribbean.
Until next time.....
carpe cerevisi
