I've had this idea for years and am finally writing it and revising it, and re-writing it for real now. It's my idea, and all I want is to put it into story form for myself, and for the few that might find it interesting. If you enjoy it, then stay tuned.
I could hear his feet pounding on the sidewalk as he took each step towards the edge of the curb. A calm suburban neighborhood packed with cookie cutter houses and plenty of trees, all flourishing with life… Unlike me. He’s a young guy, looks like. About, 18? A senior in high school, as I’ve come to know they’re called. I dunno who THIS guy is. I just had seen him, and he was so weak willed I just took over his body. Wasn’t missed, wasn’t noticed. A nobody. After I’m done with him, no one will notice he’s gone. It feels gross to be trudging around in this guy’s old dull sack of flesh and bones. But this kid… this kid is in his prime. The thing these two both have in common? They’re weak willed… nobodies, but I’ll change that. Oh yeah. I’ll change that. I've been through several bodies so far, but none I've seen of a kid who is this... this pathetic. This is a perfect opportunity.
“Hey, watch it, Junker!” “Ohh! I’m sorry!”. A girl about his age and her gang of friends knocked past his shoulder as he crossed the street, clearly intending on hitting him, but he apologizes anyway. “Hey, Junker. Why don’t you quit being such a prissy prick, and grow a pair?” She tossed up her hand as if to cup the pair he needed to grow. The spikes from her wristband glisten in the morning light as the chains rattle from her arm on her jacket. She looked on at him in a cynical impatient manner. “Are you gonna say somethin, or just stand there in your stupid slacks and pink shirt and stare like a dork, Adrian?” “Hey, my shirt is salmon!! I don’t wear pink!”. The raven haired girl and her gaggle of studded and spiked friends crack up. Adrian Junker? So that's your name.
The day for Adrian went on in a similar manner to this. He went to school, sat in class, listened intently to what the teachers had to say, all while the typical assholes would snicker and throw random shit at him. Tell you the truth, I don’t blame ‘em. The kid has no spine. I’m not even sure how he doesn’t slink over when he goes to walk. If he came from the realm I’m from, he’d be a pile of steaming organs by now… or, rotting, for that matter. What puzzled me was when he was on his way home he stopped at this “auto repair” place. He sat in the lobby for a while, then just left. What the hell, is that his secret place or something? Well, either way, I better get out of sight. He can probably see me from over here... But what the hell will he do? Piss his slacks? Ah, best not to arouse suspicion.
The sky shown almost red over the neighborhood as the sun reached a mid point in its setting path. I approached the Auto Repair lobby. It’s been about a week I’ve watched Adrian. I think he’s seen me a few times. Great actor, he is. If he catches a glimpse at me he does this stupid face, then tries to gather himself, then scuttles away. I noticed he put this little knife in his backpack this morning, almost as if to show he was doing so. Oh, I'm so scared! Ha! It might not have even been real for all I know. Probably some popsicles sticks he painted and sharpened. Even if the kid does put up a fight, it won't be much to me. I'm still growing accustomed to humans and their ways, but where I came from I had to fight every day, and fighting is fighting no matter what universe or plane of existence you're in or on. I'm tired of fighting for what seems like no reason; I got out, I got here, and now I want to live. I don't care if I still have to fight, I'm good at it, but there better be a fucking reason for it. There will be. I won't trash another decaying body. I'll use Adrian's and find immortality. I still have to go back there and pry it from that eternal narcissistic Prick Quorthon's dead hands. Pft, what a dumb name. Suits him. I don't know when I'll be able to do that at this rate. I'm not sure how the process of occupying a body permanently quite works, yet. But I'll find out. I want a good vessel, and I want it now. I will have it. I want the life I've fought for. Do I deserve it? Probably not to others, but to myself, there's nothing I deserve more.
"Sigh". Adrian plopped down on the seat nearest to the door and slouched in the chair as he closed his eyes. I've been leaning up against this greyish-green gross looking wall going to towards the back room for a few minutes now. Long enough to see his pathetic ass walk in and sit down to do whatever the hell he does in here. But I'm not interested in what he's doing here. I'm interested to see where this goes once he notices me. I'm not sure if he will at this point even if he has seen me. I've morphed this body through rituals I've learned over the past 100 years. I've managed to get it to a younger state, but that just makes my time shorter. Each year I shave off to make it younger equals another year shaved off its lifespan, speeding the aging process. But I'll be ditching it soon. I've got another day or two before I start to decay. I also grew hair (the guy barely had any... Had the yarmulke bald thing goin' on) about down to my middle back. It had been this light brown greyish color, now it's black with some grey still in it. I guess I haven’t perfected the process yet. I also got some other clothes. I had been wearing some office shit with a slightly stained shirt on. But whoever's room I stole from mid-day (when everyone seems to be at work or school) a few days ago had good taste in music. I managed to grab a Black Sabbath shirt with the logo and winged devil on it, some tighter pants- I had to drop some serious weight off this fucker. And the smell! Ugh! It was a mix of onions, BO, human, and stinky-ass hoagies. I also nabbed a studded wristband, and a denim vest I had to take all the patches off of because I hate that shit. I managed to find some combat boots in what looked like the parent's room. The room I had been in had small shoes. Must've been a girls'... Maybe that one picking on our boy over there? Good possibility. I could have gone to a store, but then I might've gotten caught stealing, wouldn't I? And I don't feel like doing a ridiculous ritual to get rid of whoever I'd have to kill that SAW me stealing. I'll have to do that after a while, but not now. When is this kid gonna notice me? It's no fun if I scare him... Wait, what am I saying?
"Hey, bud!" I grinned and stepped forward as the small amount of light coming from the window shown on my face. I had been obscured by darkness from the hallway up until now, so the little squirt can see me. "AAHH!" his eyes popped wide open and he jerked up in his seat as it slightly shook under him. I grinned some more. This is gonna be fun. "You! Y-you're the guy that's been following me, aren't you?!" Hm. Guess he's more intuitive than I thought. He reaches for his backpack and shoves his hand in the front pouch quickly and takes out the switchblade I thought I saw him put in there last week. "I-I have this knife my Dad gave me!! You better stay away!!" I walk up to him through the lobby. The sun is beginning to set at a faster pace now. It must be right at dusk at this point. I stop about a foot from him. He holds the switchblade towards me, shaking profusely. "…a knife, huh? That’ll get me good. Where you gonna stab me?" I sat in the chair adjacent him. He didn't respond, just looked over me wildly with wide eyes. He looks petrified. Now that I have a good look at this kid, I'm going to have to do some serious changing when I finally take over his body... good God. That short comb-over-looking red hair, those bug-eyes.. his lack of a jawline.. It's almost like he has a complete oval face... with freckles everywhere. And let's not forget those lame clothes. I'll just use the stuff I've got on now, I guess. It'll take a lot of work, but it'll be worth it.
I throw up my left hand as if to say "well?" and rest my head on the other as I lean in the chair towards him awaiting his response. "….w…what? What do you want?" He's still shaking, holding that dinky little thing to my face. "I want an answer, Mr. Salmon shirt. I said where you gonna stab me? Simple question. You said you have a knife, that obviously means you’re going to use it. Unless I’ve got a bottle of beer I don’t know about that needs to be opened." I lean forward towards him almost putting my nose to the knife with a patient expression on my face. " …. You’re crazy… I’d stab you! I would!" He creeps back even further into his seat, still holding the knife to me, his back pressed against the ratty, faded red fabric of the seat. "Pfft" I snatch away the knife and look at it peculiarly. I hear footsteps from the back. I don't know if Adrian does.
A younger guy, a bit older looking than Adrian approaches us from the back of the hall, he turned on the light. I see he's wearing an oil and grease stained mechanic shirt. The guy must work here... or did. Now he's the closing crew or something. Shame! I whirl the knife around in my hand once, get up and walk towards him. He doesn't notice the knife and opens his mouth to say something to us. I whirl the knife once more as I raise it and plunge it right above his sternum and below his neck. The blade is sharper than I thought. Clean cut right through. Huh, maybe if the kid had a pair like that girl said, he could have at least held me off, hm? Blood is pouring, staining his grey shirt as i drift back into the situation at hand. " GGYYUUAAAAAHHHH!" He grabs for his throat. I look on disgustedly. Pathetic. He flails his hands upwards towards the hand I have holding the knife, I glance back and see Adrian is screaming and clamoring for his chair. I guess he jumped out after I stabbed this guy. I stab him again deeper in the same spot, look back at Adrian in the dimly lit room again, and smile. The mechanic's hands fall slowly to his sides and his head hangs back as his body goes limp and falls to the floor.
"Were you gonna do that to me with this?" I say holding up the knife, now dripping with blood, still hot. “AAAAAHHH!! You…. You killed him! He didn’t even do anything, and you killed him!" His voice is shaky as all hell and he still hasn't seemed to get a hold of that chair soaked in sweat and piss, no doubt, by now. "Listen up REAL good, because if you don’t, I WILL have a reason to kill you, and if he looks like this-" I hold up the bloody corpse by the collar "then what’re YOU gonna look like buddy boy?" "Auuuh! Alright, alright!!" He yells. "What? What do you want? All you’ve been doing is following me around, day and night! You don’t say a word, then you disappear! If you want to kill me, do it, already! You've already killed that poor guy!" His eyes start tearing up as he looks in terror at the body on the floor only visible from the light coming from the back through the hallway. The rest of the lobby is shrouded in darkness, and the windows are too dirty to see well out of in the dark. "Kill you? Hahaha. Kill you…. Yeah, I suppose that would be the easy way out for you, wouldn’t it?" This kid is like a scared animal... looking frantically around. He rests his wide eyes on my shirt.
"You’re sick…. What are you talking about? And what’s that on your shirt?! You’re so sick you even have twisted stuff on your clothes!! Is that the devil?!" I look pleasantly down at my shirt, then back at him. "…. I would be doing you a favor if I killed you, wouldn’t I? You don’t even know who Sabbath is! My old buddies would have done it for me. What’s the matter with kids these days? What do you even listen to you little shit?" "You just killed someone, possibly the only person here, their corpse is lying next to you, and now you’re insulting my taste in music?! You're the sickest person I've ever met!!" his voice is cracking, he's shouting so loud as he holds himself forward on the arms of the chair. "Thank you! First thing you've said I agree with." "I can't take this anymore! I'm outta here! I'm getting the cops!" He starts for the door. WHAM. A cloud of dust escapes quickly from the door frame as I command it shut. I learned well back home! In his ready-to-lunge position he had, his body freezes and his head whirls around to me with a look of pure confusion and revulsion. "AAAUUUH! Y-you’re a freak!! What are you?" I hold my hand to my forehead in frustration and roll my eyes, then sit back down. "... Siddown and shuddup, kid."
. "N-no! I'm g-getting outta here! A-and you can't stop m-" I hold up the knife "I know how to hurt ya real bad without killing you, ya know. I just sealed the door on you without moving. I can be here all night." he sits down reluctantly as his knees shake. He keeps looking at that damn corpse. "Here, is this distracting you?" My boots thud on the crusty matted carpet as I go to snatch the poor sonofabitch off the ground. I drag him by his blood soaked collar into the bathroom in the little hall right next to the service window and slam the door. "There. Ya happy?" I turn and look over him for a second, while he squirms in nervousness and discomfort with stifled sobs leaking from his tear soaked face.
"You’re a creep! What are you even looking at me like that for? You got that long hair ‘cause you wanna be a woman or something? Y-you like guys or something?! Creep!" I look at him sharply with a grin. I guess fear and terror bring out a bit of wit, eh? "A lotta talk for a punk who got a big bad knife snatched out of his hand a bit ago. I'll just cut to the chase, as fun as it's been- "Your soul. You usin’ it?" "WHAT? Y-you’ve got to be joking! Is this happening? You escaped from the loony bin, didn’t you? That's it! Yeah! You're an insane murderer! And you never answered my question, what the hell are you?!" "Hmph... I’m not from here." I say in a cynical manner. "Not from here…. That’s the answer you’re giving me now? You shut that door on me without moving! That’s not something you see some regular guy from New York doing!!" "Have you had their tap water? I dunno ‘bout that." "Quit it with the jokes! God!" I turn to him and push my wristband up. My body is rapidly changing... running lower on time than I thought. I'm getting thinner and my hair is turning more gray. "God? Hahaha. God. Yeah. I know that guy. He’s a lazy sunuvabitch… I’m not from here as in I’m not from this world. I’m simply using this body as a vessel. But I can only use the unwilling for so long. I need a permanent… uhh… how you would say “house” for me to exist on this planet." I cross my leg over the other and watch his now bright white face, somehow it became paler than before. His expression amuses me... confused, terrified, and perhaps he needs to use the bathroom... again?
"…. So you want to possess me?!" He yells as a fresh set of water works gets going with his hand over his face. I shake my head and scoff. "You humans and your perception of other-worldly spirits. No, I’m not gonna inch my way into your body and make it decay like little Regan. I want to live a full life, like one of you… well you’d be a lot cooler if you were me." "You really are insane, aren’t you?! You have one of your friends outside pulling strings with a fog machine ready or something? And possession? And why would you want to live here? This is so crazy and... and impossible!! What reason do you even have?!" I pause before responding, standing in front of him. Even as a thin, lanky man with my clothes getting baggier by the minute, he still is terrified. He looks up at me with a gaping mouth, those blue eyes filled with fear look at me, and those freckles... they bother me. "Reason? … You want a reason? Alright. Because I’m bored. This planet seems to have some of the best music I’ve heard, too. None that you probably know you shit. I want in. And who are you? I’ve been watching you the past few days. You haven’t talked to one person, and no, I don't count being jeered at, haven’t done anything of the slightest interest, have some fucking milk-toast parents, and on top of it all, you don't even know who Black Sabbath is! Get real!" I bend towards him with a disgusted look on my face. I am growing increasingly impatient with this waste of space. I can smell the tears and other questionable odors emanating from him. Yuck. I am ready to end this encounter.
I stand back up and shake my head again. "What are you even gonna do with yourself?" I throw my arms up "You’re not usin’ your soul, so just let me have it, why dontchya? Or would you rather grow old and watch shit on TV with some hag that orders you around?" He's still just sitting there looking at me appalled. I can feel a hot rage fill my belly. This little shit is wasting my time! "Well?!" I grab him by his collar and yank him to my face. My skin starts to flake off... Oh shit... it's happening, I need to do something, soon. I'm decaying. His eyes dart all over my face seeing high speed decay right before his eyes. He screams, I scream to mock him and wave my head around.
"Hey!" It looks like he's not conscious. "HEY! Ade! Give me your damn soul!... Haha. You can't hear me can you?" I laugh enraged ".... and your pants are wet... Wonderful." I drop him to the old looking stained carpet on the floor. I look over his now disheveled unconscious self. "Hmph. Oh well. Just makes it easier…. What’s this shit?" I kneel down and look at a necklace that seemed tucked neatly once under his shirt. “Yours forever- Mary"... What? How could this kid have a girl? Is it his Mom? I didn't see anyone with him the whole week. Whatever. This’ll do." I yank the necklace off his neck with ease, stand back up and drag the the guy I had offed a while ago towards me. I pat it down with what's left of my prints for good measure. "That should do fine, this body won’t exist soon." I mumble to myself. Shoving my hand out to swing open the door I see it's a full moon tonight... Perfect.
He walks into the abandoned parking lot next to a vacant stretch of road towards to woods as the moon's light illuminates the studs on his wristband, and whole chunks of skin fall to the ground and disintegrate all while he sings in a deteriorating voice "giiive me your sooooul, giiiiive me your soul for the deeeead!"
