Evil Walks Ch. 3: You Could Be Mine

Evil Walks

Chapter Three: You Could Be Mine

“I'm a cold heartbreaker

Fit ta burn and I'll rip

Your heart in two

And I'll leave you lyin' on the bed

I'll be out the door before ya wake

It's nuthin' new ta you

'Cause I think we've seen that movie too.”

• “You Could Be Mine” by Guns N Roses

“OK, so get this-- Wait, does the red light mean it's recording or not recording?”

“It's recording. You're good to talk.”

“Right. So here's the main thing,” said Deanna staring into the camera in what she apparently thought was a deep and pensive manner. “There are a lot of monsters out there: living, dead, and undead. Nasty buggers, the lot of them.”

Jared laughed and interrupted, “Drop the fake British slang, D. People will think you're crazier than you are.”

“Sod off, bitch!” retorted Deanna with a scoff.

Haley paused the screen. She was reviewing and editing the footage from her interviews with the Wesson family earlier that day. She wanted to open her video with Deanna's summarization of her work, so she was going over that bit first. After jotting down a few notes, she resumed playback.

On Haley's computer screen, Deanna was swiping on a coat of silvery-black Urban Decay lipstick in Oil Slick. “Alright, do I look OK?” she asked, pouting her lips sexily.

“Of course you don't, jerk,” said Jared, and she smacked him.

Haley's off-screen voice reassuringly replied, “You look great, Deanna.” In her room Haley grimaced. Despite her chosen career path, she still wasn't happy with the sound of her recorded voice.

Onscreen Deanna grinned. “Damn right I do,” she stated confidently. “So the things that go bump in the night – it's not easy to get rid of them. In fact, it's really fucking hard. Heh, that's what she said. Seriously, though, going up against ghosts or ghouls or vampires or, even worse, faeries, it'll most likely get you killed. However, there are ways to protect yourself.”

Off-camera Haley interrupted, incredulous, with, “Fairies? What, like Tinkerbell?”

Jared shook his head, while Deanna rolled her eyes. “Not like Disney,” Jared tried explaining. “More like the old folklore where the Fair Folk kidnap your children and drive people crazy for their own amusement.”

“Yeah, like that,” agreed Deanna. “Don't mess with faeries. They will fuck you up.”

“But they aren't all-powerful,” added Jared helpfully. “You don't have to live your life in fear of what's in the dark.”

“Right, like I've been trying to say is that there are four main things you can use for protection,” Deanna went on. She counted them on her fingers as she listed them. “Salt, silver, iron, and holy water. It might not kill everything, but it sure as hell will cause some damage.”

“The technical term is apotrope.”

“God, you're such a nerd!”

In her room Haley pressed the rewind button to go back to the beginning. She watched Deanna's flirty little wink onscreen and sighed. Deanna was freaking crazy, that's for sure. She'd given Haley her cell number, and Haley knew she should just throw it away, but...

Deanna was different, and Haley found herself wondering about the real Deanna, not the cocky, brash, I-don't-give-a-fuck attitude she put on. Haley had glimpsed more to her than that. There'd been a moment of real pain and loneliness. Perhaps it had something to do with her mother's suicide, Haley thought to herself. After all, Johnny Wesson hadn't reacted very well to Haley's mention of Irene Wesson's death. Still, being raised by an obviously crazy father who was clearly not a good role model for her had definitely messed up Deanna's behavioral skills, but that didn't mean there wasn't a genuinely interesting girl in need of a friend underneath all those layers of attitude.

The thing was: could Haley be that friend? Haley was still weirded out by everything that afternoon, and it was admittedly despicable of Deanna to have repeatedly gone after her brother's girlfriends like he'd described. And all the drinking and smoking and swearing and general bitchiness... Could Haley put up with all that crap enough to attempt to befriend her? She wasn't convinced.

And then there was the topic of Deanna's sexual advances...

Haley understood that sexuality was fluid. Though she didn't really know if she was bisexual or not, she wasn't convinced she was completely straight either. So there was that to figure out.

And obviously a relationship with Deanna would be even more complicated and messy than a mere friendship would be. However, Deanna hadn't mentioned a relationship. She'd wanted to hook up. On the other hand, Haley wasn't really into casual sex. She'd tried it once and hated it – and the guy who never called her afterward. She preferred something more meaningful, and could she actually have something meaningful with Deanna?

OK, yes, so she admitted Deanna was attractive despite the awful hair, bad punk-goth makeup and style, crudeness, and overall bitchiness; but the girl did have a kind of charm in her self-aware “yes, I am that over-the-top ridiculous” shtick. Maybe if she were nicer or at least a little less unpleasant, then they could have a good time together.

Haley didn't know. She just didn't know.

The footage was a little shaky in a few parts, and Haley blushed to remember that her heartbeat quickened in her chest and her hands trembled whenever Deanna gave her that hungry look, that “I want to have a good time with you right here and now” kind of look. Suddenly Haley noticed the video was shaking even more so than it had the last two times she'd reviewed it. An icy blast of cold shot through her veins. Shivering, she ran her fingers over the emergent goosebumps on her arms, and her breath materialized in a cloud before her face, reminding her of Deanna's cigarette smoke.

On the computer screen was a shot of that creepy basement door, but now its freaky symbols were splashed with blood.

Hazel eyes widened behind Haley's glasses. What? She hadn't filmed that...

Not had she filmed the pale woman with tangled brown hair matted with blood opening the door. The woman's eyelids flew up to reveal two black abysses – no whites, no irises, no pupils, just utter blackness. Her bloody mouth opened, and black goo dripped out with a gargled moan.

Unable to tear her eyes away, a scream ripped itself out of Haley's throat at the terrifying thought that this weird, freaky-ass woman was trying to talk through the screen to her right then.

The video on screen changed scenes, and Haley's chest tightened to see Deanna reapplying her sheer black lipstick, but this time the girl's eyes were that same empty black. Then the monitor flickered and turned off, plunging Haley into darkness.

Her mom was knocking on her door and asking if she was alright, but Haley barely registered that as she tried thinking over the pounding blood in her ears. What the hell just happened? That couldn't have been real. Things like that don't happen. That's not possible. Maybe Deanna played some kind of prank on her? Haley kept trying to rationalize everything, though her fingers were quivering so much that it took three tries to be able to press the power button to restart her computer.

A few deep breaths were needed in an attempt to calm herself after turning on every light in the room, and then, though her insides twisted in anticipation, Haley replayed the video. She sucked in a big breath, and--

None of that freaky shit appeared.

What the hell?

Haley rewatched her footage three more times, although her stomach churned each time the basement door appeared on screen, the (Blood. Ghost.) creepy stuff never popped up. As if it had never been there at all. Which it hadn't been. Of course not. Because weird shit like, like ghosts and whatever didn't exist. That was bullshit. She was imagining things thanks to all that ghost talk Deanna and her crazy family went on about. That was it. That was the reasonable explanation.

Even still, Haley went to bed with all her lights on, not wanting to be in the dark alone with thoughts of those black eyes...