"[[Can I ask you a crazy question?]]"
You blink out of your daze, returning to the table and bringing your attention back to Jen. She’s sat across from you, leaning forward, her necklace grazing the thickening skin on her cooling soup. You don’t often go to lunch with Jen. You don’t often go to lunch with anybody, usually preferring to eat your miserable bologna sandwiches at your desk, hunched over your computer. Normally, you’d take crumbs on your keyboard over this any day. But today is different. So when Jen asked if you’d like to come for lunch, you said yes. Well done.
“Well, can I?” Jen leans further, her pendant dipping further into tomato and cream. “Ask you a crazy [[question]]?
[[Uh, sure.]]
[[No question is truly crazy.]]“Great.” Her eyes flash, then she lowers her voice to the edge of a whisper. “Do you believe in like… ghosts and stuff?”
[[Yeah, of course.]]
[[No, I'll take aliens though.]]
“Great.” Her eyes flash, then she lowers her voice to the edge of a whisper. “Do you believe in like… ghosts and stuff?”
[[Yeah, of course.]]
[[No, I'll take aliens though.]]
Jen smiles.
“Me too,” she says. “I’m so glad because I haven’t been able to tell anyone this story since...” Her eyes glaze over.
You get the sense that whatever the story is, it’s going to be intense. Lunch is very nearly over, and you have a lot of work to do today. Also, you may believe in ghosts, but that’s for a reason. A reason you’d rather not get into right now.
Or ever.
[[Leave]] (You feel bad, though.)
[[Leave]] (It's already too late.)
Already too late for what? Do you even know?
Jen laughs nervously. “Well, they’re all sort of the same thing right?”
After a moment, you reply. "Not really, but sure. I believe in them."
[[Where is she going with this??]]
~~It's already too late you know~~
“Me too,” she says. “I’m so glad because I haven’t been able to tell anyone this story since...” Her eyes glaze over.
You get the sense that whatever the story is, it’s going to be intense. Lunch is very nearly over, and you have a lot of work to do today. Also, you may believe in ghosts, but that’s for a reason. A reason you’d rather not get into right now.
Or ever.
[[Leave]] (You feel bad, though.)
[[Leave]]
You get up, brushing your sweaty palms on your jeans. “Sorry, I have to get back to work. Next time?”
As you walk past her, she grabs your wrist. “No, you can’t... you have to let me tell you. You have to listen.”
You look down at her hand on your wrist as it tightens, then to her wild eyes.
“Please,” she whispers.
You look down at her, her pleading face, the tomato soup staining her shirt. You feel pity.
[[Sit]] back down.
“Thank you,” she says, her relief palpable. You grit your teeth against the embarrassment.
“So,” she runs a hand nervously through her thinning, box-cherry-red hair, “I have this... friend. My longest friend, actually. I’ve known her since we were kids. I used to stay at her house some weekends, when my parents were out of town for work.”
You listen patiently as Jen weaves her tale. You also wish you’d insisted on buying another cup of coffee for this. You try to catch the eye of the waitress.
“My friend had an... imaginary friend. She used to call him Big Man. She loved him. He played with her and made her feel better when she got a bad mark on a test or her parents were fighting. She didn’t tell me about Big Man until we were like, thirteen? Thirteen I think.”
“Big Man is a pretty fucked up [[name]].”
“That’s [[creepy]].”
“Yeah, hah,” she smiles, and her lip cracks, a droplet of blood beginning to pool in the line before she licks it clean with a thick tongue. “I don’t think its the name he gave her. She gave it to him herself.”
“Anyway, Big Man always seemed nice from what she told me. But then, one day, something happened and... my friend’s house burned down. Her parents died inside. She woke up outside on the lawn with no memory of how it happened.”
“She told me later that her dad hit her that day and her mom didn’t say anything about it. She told me she was sure Big Man did it.”
"[[Did that make her scared of him]]?"
[[Swallow your sick.]] "So like, she did it obviously." “It wasn’t at the time. I think for her it was nice at the time. She had a... tough home. So for her, it was like she had a best friend built in. Someone to talk to all the time about anything she wanted.”
Jen twitches slightly, and makes a small mournful sound. “I don’t think he liked that part very much. I don’t think he liked her at all, in the end.”
[[Listen]]
“Anyway, Big Man always seemed nice from what she told me. But then, one day, something happened and... my friend’s house burned down. Her parents died inside. She woke up outside on the lawn with no memory of how it happened.”
“She told me later that her dad hit her that day and her mom didn’t say anything about it. She told me she was sure Big Man did it.”
"[[Did that make her scared of him]]?"
[[Swallow your sick.]] "So like, she did it obviously."
“No, see, that’s the thing. She got even closer to him. She came to stay with me for a couple weeks after it happened, that’s when she told me about him. Right after, like, the day after that, she moved away to her aunt’s house on the other side of the country.”
Didn't you have [[work to do]]?
“No!” Jen shouts, before catching herself. “No. She would never. It was him. It had to be him.”
“See, afterwards, she got even closer to him. She came to stay with me for a couple weeks after it happened, that’s when she told me about him. Right after, like, the day after that, she moved away to her aunt’s house on the other side of the country.”
Didn't you have [[work to do]]?
"What happened to Big Man?" You hear yourself ask.
“I think he went with her. But then I...” Jen scratches at a spot under her sleeve, a spot that looks pretty well scratched already. The blood on her lip is now in the spaces between her teeth. Her eyes are black.
You don’t feel well.
You can’t deal with this kind of thing. Not today.
Why are you so [[uncomfortable]]? You feel it, don't you?
“He wasn’t ... a ghost. He was something else." Jen says, digging her fingertips into the table, her nails scratching across the linoleum. She is staring at something only she can see, or nothing at all. It's almost as if you aren't really there.
"And I think he’s found me.”
[[Your blood runs cold]]."What?" You don't remember standing.
“Will you, will you take him?” She asks, her eyes red and wide. “Will you take him from me? He keeps saying things... not even 1807 wanted him. Not even 1669.”
[[Walk away]].
[[Walk away]] now.
[[Walk away]] now!!
“PLEASE,” she screams.
The entire cafe goes silent, and then she’s scrabbling over the table and towards you, her pupils black and blood pooling in her teeth.
“TAKE HIM,
H E ’ S Y O U R S.
HE’S
FOR YOU.”
~~Walk away~~
RUN
RUN
[[RUN]]
You try to run, but her fist catches the back of your shirt and yanks you back against the table, your head hitting the corner with a crack, your vision splitting to white and then black as you [[lose consciousness]].
You wake up in a cold, bright room. The hospital gown is scratchy against your skin, and as you turn your head as you regain your awareness, a searing pain shoots through your temples.
An alarm goes, a sound you know well. This one isn’t a bad one. This one alerts the nurses that you are awake.
[[Try to sit up]]
[[Close your eyes and wait for the nurses]]
“Now, now. Don’t move too fast. You’ll hurt yourself.”
The voice comes from your own mind, and is all at once familiar and sickeningly foreign. It feels like it curls up just behind your eyes and purs.
“Don’t worry, I’m here to take care of you now.”
You knew it was [[too late]].
“Yes, that’s right.”
The voice comes from your own mind, and is all at once familiar and sickeningly foreign. It feels like it curls up just behind your eyes and purs.
“Rest. I’ll keep watch.”
“I’ll always keep watch.”
You knew it was [[too late]].
This is your last chance.
If you continue, there is no turning back.
Are you sure?
Yes
No