bone-chillen - Tumblr blog

[bone-chillen]

My Friend Scott

It’s been 13 years since I’ve heard from my childhood friend Scott. Scott was my neighbor growing up and my partner in crime, until his father lost his job as an executive for a company that was going under in our hometown. Scott and his family lost everything and depended on their savings, which didn’t last long. Before we both knew it, they were moving to a more rural and cheaper city to live in, and starting over in a small apartment. I sent Scott off with some of my things and the promise to stay in touch, but I broke that promise.

Today, I was cleaning out the attic for my mom. Recently we lost my father to a virus going around. We were sorting through his things and donating much to charity, reminiscing on the man we dearly missed, when I found them.

Letters tucked neatly in a binder of Pokémon cards called to me. Mostly, I wanted to check out what finds I had curated in my younger days, until I realized the letters were from Scott.

I took the binder home with me, along with a bottle of my fathers favorite whiskey, made a fire and got to reading. As I fingered open my first letter, a photograph fell out. A tiny boy with olive skin and messy black curls leaned against a taller ginger boy with wire glasses and a smirk, who was pointing to something in the trees behind him. A treehouse our fathers had built together for us. I choked up a little and began to read.

May 14th, 2008.

Dear Wren,

We just moved into our new apartment, and I finally got my room set up. Thanks for giving me your old bunk bed, I took out the bottom bed and put my desk there, it makes my room much more spacious.

Luckily, I don’t have to go to school for the rest of the year! The school district said it was too late to start the semester. Early summer!

Our apartment is pretty small, and pretty dull. My parents had to sell my Xbox 360 for the security deposit, along with all of my games, but they said they’ll get me a new one when things are better.

So I don’t have a lot to do these days, I guess I could read but…you know how I feel about that.

That leaves wandering around outside which is what I’m about to do.

Smell ya later, Wren. Write back soon? I’m bored to tears.

Peace,

Scott

May 28th, 2008.

I just got your package man, you did not have to send your old game boy!

Mom has been on a cleaning rampage. She says the guys who lived here before us must have been a smoker which pisses her off but I kinda think it’s cool.

Mom and dad hate living here but I think it’s alright these days. Maybe it’s a bit of a dump but it’s cool to live somewhere where people had their whole lives stretch out and now it’s yours. I wonder what the people who live here after us will think of us. How are they gonna picture me? Will they know I’m a kid?

I’ve been taking your game boy to this pond behind the apartment. It’s quiet there, I crank up the volume and fill the empty space with the 8 bit tunes of Pokemon. I like to pretend a Magikarp is gonna leap out and splash me. When you come here to visit for my birthday, can you bring fishing poles? You and I can fish, and see if we can catch one!

I miss you man. I wish I could show you the pond now.

Write back soon?

Scott

June 5th, 2008.

Wren,

Your letter came quicker this time, it made my day a bit better. Today has been lame, it’s cold and rainy. Mom and dad were fighting about money again and I didn’t want to be inside, so I took an umbrella and went outside to watch the water, but something happened.

My hands are still shaking from what I saw.

It was like the water was blacker than usual, filling the landscape with dark shadows, dancing across the field surrounding the ichor like water. When I looked to the center of the pond, there were white dots swirling around and bubbling, emitting steam from the oil like water.

Then I heard it.

“Greetings.” I heard in a low voice from the pond and I fell on my ass.

I began to slide away rapidly, forcing myself to my feet and hurdling up the stairs to the apartment complex and busting into my small apartment. Dad could barely stop his insults that were flying at my mom at 60 miles an hour to notice I'd come into the space and dashed to my room.

The first thing I noticed in the room was that it gave me a perfect view of the pond I never seemed to notice before. I barged to my window and slammed the curtain shut.

I don’t know what to think of this all, man. Was it all a hallucination? Like maybe heat stroke? I’m just gonna go to bed after I send this to you. Please write back soon.

Scott

June 14th, 2008.

Wren,

You’re right, it’s probably all a dream. Still, I don’t feel comfortable going out to the pond. When I’m at the window, staring into the inky black water, I swear the ripples make it look like the pod is smiling back at me. It feels like it wants me to swim in it, but I have a long list of things I'd rather do than swim in that cesspool.

I’ll have you know I met a girl in the apartment! I know you’ll be so jealous when you read this! Her name is Meadow, and she is the coolest girl I’ve ever met! She said her brother was into trading cards, and gave me his old ones! There are some great cards in his set! I wonder why he was okay with her giving them away, makes me glad I have no siblings! Since you gave me your old Gameboy, I’ll put a couple good cards in the envelope for you.

Scott

June 25th, 2008.

Wren,

It’s been almost two weeks and no word from you man! Did you get my last letter? I hope you did, there are some cool cards in there! Anyway, in case you didn’t I met this girl Meadow, she gave me some old trading cards. Well, turns out her brother went missing 3 years ago. Crazy, right? No one knows where he went. He was hanging out by the pond one day, watching the water, and when Meadow went to get him for dinner he was gone. Vanished. No trace of the guy. Gives me the heebie jeebies thinking about it.

How’re you man? How’s your summer? I wish I could get a letter from you. It feels like I'm drifting off into nothingness with Meadow and that creepy pond. I’ve never felt stuff like this before. Please write back?

Scott

August 27th, 2008.

I get it man, I’m not cool enough for you anymore now that I’m not around, right? You could’ve said something. Meadow ditched me too, some loser from the trailer park across the street is her new best buddy and I’m yesterday's news.

I started drinking the murky pond water, it came to me in a dream and told me the waters of it’s unlife would pour through my soul and purify it. It all makes sense now. You, Meadow, mom and dad are all too weak to withstand the waters of life pooling in the pond. I’m going to have to drown them in it to make them see, and when I’m done, I'll drown you in it’s purifying water.

December 18th, 2008.

Mr.Hadley,

My name is Theresa, we’ve never met but I just moved into this apartment and found correspondence between your son and the previous tenant's child. I looked up your address and found it would be kinder to write to you rather than your son. Along with this letter, I’m sending your son’s gameboy and these trading cards. Your son might want them to remember his friend.

Unfortunately, the previous tenants have moved on following the death of young Scott.

You see, the pond behind our apartment complex had a brain eating amoeba in it, that Scott contracted after swimming in the pond. The landlord informed me of this when I moved in, as they have to disclose this kind of thing to new residents when signing a lease.

Tragically, Scott’s brain deteriorated and he became paranoid that the pond was speaking to him apparently, leading to him drowning a fellow resident's child.

Following this, he was arrested and hospitalized, but it was too late. Scott passed on sometime in September.

You might want to leave out some details until your son is older, it seems like they’re just boys.

I’ll pray for your family, and you’ll be glad to know the pond has been filled in.

With thoughts and prayers,

Theresa.

I snapped back to reality, and realized I had finished that whiskey my father loved so much. I can see why the man was always nipping at it now. Rereading the letters I figured I must have stopped replying sometime in June, or Scott didn’t have the wherewithal to respond to letters I had sent. I have no idea which is the truth.

After a surprisingly short internet search, I found an article from 2008 validating what the stranger had said in her letter. For one reason or another, my father had taken all of my letters, and I’d never noticed. He’d hidden all of this away from me but obviously wanted me to find out the truth eventually. Part of me is glad, but mostly I wish I’d never learned what became of my friend scott.

[bone-chillen]

A gnome and his rabbit friend waiting for nightfall, by Rien Poortvliet.

[bone-chillen]

Andrew Blucha

[bone-chillen]

Ice ship sculpture created by set designer and art director Rhea Thierstein | Shot by Tim Walker

[bone-chillen]

Kim Dorland, Fever Dream

[bone-chillen]

The Other Side of The Bridge (TW: Self Harm)

Chelsea Kowalski groaned as her 2001 Ford Taurus struggled to reach 70 miles an hour on the highway. She had been on 1-75 heading northbound for a little over 10 hours.

Chelsea was 22 and enrolled in college in Florida, where she attended Florida State university. However, Chelsea originally hailed from Bay City, Michigan, therefore every time it was a holiday, she’d have to trek hundreds of miles home. Chelsea longed for her sanctuary , her mother, her father, her highschool sweetheart Paul, and her little black cat, Nibbler.

So here Chelsea was, hauling her hooptie up a steep incline, amidst a snow storm in late December, determined to return to Bay City.

Pat Benetar was coming in and out of the radio, competing with some Tupac from another station. Chelsea mused to herself about a “Love Is Battlefield” and “California Love” mashup, and even let out an audible giggle at the thought.

Just then, the radio cleared for the announcer to deliver his news, occasionally being interrupted by static.

“What is up Northern Michigan! You are listening to 102.7 the -bzzzzz- and I’m your host -sssshhhhh- it’s currently 5 pm, winding up the workday! December 21st, just a few days away from Christmas! Remember folks, there is currently a winter weather advisory in effect until tomorrow! That means all you kiddos returning for the holidays, drive safe!

Word has just come through that the Zilwalkee bridge will be closed due to an accident, so plan your route accord-bzzzzzzzzzzzzz-“

The host was cut off by the return of Tupac’s California Love.

“Great…” Chelsea muttered to herself. Chelsea tapped her fingers on the steering wheel as the blizzard she was in bombarded her small car. The engine whirred and whined as it fought for dear life in the hazardous conditions.

The Zilwalkee bridge went over part of Bay City, and was the easiest way to get there. Chelsea knew that the exit that let you off before the bridge was another way to Bay City, but she had never taken it before.

She quickly found herself approaching her old stomping grounds, unsure of what to do. She could pull over and check her map, but she wasn’t sure if her car would be able to safely pull off the road and pull back on.

EXIT 171-BAY CITY 9 MILES

The sign alleviated some of her anxiety as she saw the outline of the Zilwalkee bridge.

A Michigan Megastructure monstrosity illuminating the darkening Midwest sky greeted Chelsea. The structure was massive, hundreds of feet high and built from Michigan concrete. Paul used to always tell the story of it to Chelsea when they drove over it.

Chelsea fell back into the warm memory of Paul’s sweet podunk drawl, and his cozy pickup truck.

“Some business man didn’t like how long it took to commute from Flint to Bay City, so he greased the palms of some certain gov’ners and millions of tax payer dollars later, we got a big ass bridge.” Paul said somewhere in the back of Chelsea’s mind.

Chelsea snapped from her musings as she approached her exit.

Trepidatiously, she merged right into the exit lane. The first thing she noticed was how steep it was on either side of the exit. Her wheels creaked as she slowed down to 20 miles an hour, not wanting to take any chances.

“Jesus take the wheel…” Chelsea said quietly to herself, eyes flicking to the rosary that hung from her dashboard. She gulped as she descended the hill, hands white at the knuckle from gripping her wheel so tight.

Her thoughts fell to Paul again, how if she were in his truck with him, she would feel so safe coming down this hill. She thought of his denim blue jeans, thick wooly flannel, his bushy brown hair, and his deep expressive blue eyes. The thought of her love, and her unshakable faith kept her calm as she drew to the end of the steep hill.

The exit came to a crossroad, where Chelsea could turn left or right. Bay City was to the right, and to the left, was the underside of the Zilwalkee bridge. Chelsea started pressing the breaks so she could stop before turning right, but they failed her. Her car screeched and skidded as it fishtailed, and spun out of control.

“LORD HAVE MERCY!” She cried aloud as she fought to regain control of her car, and as she said her little prayer, something must have been listening, because her car stopped.

Ford was on the left side of the crossroads, facing the bridge. Chelsea put her hazards on and looked around and she tried to calm down. The road had 6 inches of snow easily, and was very narrow. One lane going each way, there was no room to turn around. On either side of the road, lay a deep ditch, reminding Chelsea how much danger she was in. She made the decision to follow the road until there was a decent place to turn around, then she’d be home in no time.

Chelsea took in her scenery, she sat below the massive bridge, and beside an expansive river, frozen over but still terrifying. The snowy wind whipped underneath the bridge and created a symphony of deep, horrifying noises, they made Chelsea think of the time she saw a cartoon about eldritch horrors.

With resolve in her mind and faith in her heart, Chelsea lurched forward. On her left were miles and miles of cornfields, and on her right, was the frozen river. Both promised death should she crash into them, as she was the only car on this lonely road. No one would find her.

The radio cut in and out.

“every breath you take…”

Chelsea hated that song. So creepy.

Chelsea saw something in the distance that seemed odd to her, a billboard. It advertised:

“MAMA MIA’S PIZZA

BAY CITY

8 MILES”

It put her off because she knew that restaurant, it was in fact in Bay City which was in the opposite direction. Chelsea’s search for a turnaround got a little more frantic.

Another sign caught her attention that made her uncomfortable.

“BAY CITY - 5 MILES”

To her knowledge, Bay City was completely the opposite direction, so how was she getting closer?

She began to reason with herself, she had never gone this way. Maybe she had been too turned around, and was misremembering things.

Houses came into view, houses she recognized as being near Bay City.

“No point turning around now…” she said quietly as she convinced herself that she must have been going the correct way all along. Street lights came into view and the snow let up a bit, and an audible sigh of relief escaped her lips.

“Home sweet home.” She said as she entered the city.

The streets were barren, save for piles of snow, and empty cars. Not unusual for a blizzard, and Chelsea was still on the outskirts. Slowly, she came to an intersection and looked around. A final sign greeted her.

“Welcome to Bay City" and then, below that, "established December 21st, 2020.”

Confusion flooded Chelsea, was this some kind of joke? Bay City was a very old place, and certainly wasn't founded that very day.

Despite the red flag, Chelsea resolved herself to continue her journey. She rolled passed the light and saw her first sign of life, pumping gas at the local station.

The man was facing away from her, huddled close to his salt truck, bundled up in Carhartt and wool.

Chelsea smiled, feeling a little less anxious now that she was the only one outside. The joy left her as soon as it came when the man turned around.

The man’s face was smooth and featureless.

He had no eyes, lips, nose or mouth. He was smooth like the undisturbed snow on the ground.

Chelsea gasped and drove faster, desperate to get home. She was on 31st street now, she only had to get to Second and Lincoln. As soon as Chelsea saw Lincoln, she turned, not caring if her car spun.

As she ascended Lincoln street, she saw someone walking with a dog. She recognized the dog immediately as there weren’t many golden retrievers around, it was her high school friend Olivia and her dog Chip.

Chelsea rolled down her window to call to her friend in her panic, but as soon as she did, Olivia’s head snapped to Chelsea.

Chelsea screamed as her friend’s blank features tracked Chelsea’s every move. "How can she see me with no eyes?" Chelsea frantically thought. Her eyes turned to Chip. Even the dog bore no features, and he too followed her movements.

Chelsea slammed her petal to the metal, and zipped down Lincoln street as fast as her aging car would take her. Sobs wracked her body as desperation filled her. She saw more and more people, all of them coming out of their homes, with no regard for the blizzard, all lacking any features.

Chelsea screamed as she saw a big pick up truck blocking the road with a man standing in front of it. She slammed on the breaks and her car spun and spun, trying and failing to stop.

The Ford came to a rest on the sidewalk, now smoking from the engine. Life left the car, as Chelsea tried fervently to start it back up. She looked out her window wildly and saw Paul’s blank head where his face used to be right outside her window. She sobbed as he put a hand to the window and drew a heart in the snow that clung to her window.

Chelsea didn’t know how she knew, but she knew he was smiling.

“I’m sorry, Paul…” she said as she unlocked the door and put all of her power into shoving the car door into him.

Chelsea sprinted past his forlorn pickup truck and glanced at the street.

5th and Lincoln, almost home. Almost to safety.

Chelsea took in her situation; she was surrounded by the faceless residents of Bay City, each of them slowly approaching her, making some kind of...groan. Chelsea darted her head around, Paul was clambering to his feet, and hundreds of other residents, closing in on her. The strangest thing being, that most weren’t even wearing winter clothes.

The faceless mob had appeared as though they had been going about their business as usual when Chelsea disturbed them. The creatures must have stopped what they were doing and redirected all of their attention to the woman who still bore a face.

Chelsea turned on her heels and dived down 5th street, then found a house with only one of the faceless, and barreled toward it. A child, clad in a pink onesie, holding a stuffed unicorn, with big blond curls and no face, watched Chelsea as she bolted past it. Chelsea entered the backyard the faceless child was guarding, and clambered up the fence. She fell over with a thud and hauled herself to her feet.

Chelsea repeated this course of action, descending through the houses of 4th, then 3rd street. Chelsea looked about to see that every resident of Bay City was waiting for her on second street. Her sobs were all there was to be heard as she forced her way through a crowd of faceless and to her front door.

“MOM! DAD!” She screamed as she bounded through the barrier to her small historic home.

Chelsea slammed the door shut behind her and deadbolted it, then made her way further into her home. Her eyes caught the walls first, adorned with family photographs. She focused on one she could recognize even from a distance. It was Chelsea and her father at their church’s father daughter dance. His crisp grey suit, and her soft yellow sundress glimmered in the light. Chelsea tried to focus on their faces as she slowly stepped toward it.

The picture came fully into her view, there they stood, at the father daughter dance, with no faces. Chelsea knew at that moment all was lost. Chelsea did not need to to turn around and see her mother and father, faceless and silent, behind her.

Despite the feeling in her gut, Chelsea turned to face them anyway. There stood her parents, embracing with one arm each, and beckoning Chelsea with the other. Chelsea pushed right past them, and ran up the stairs to her attic bedroom.

Chelsea entered her untouched bedroom, and slammed her door shut behind her, then pushed her antique vanity against it, to insure she wouldn’t be disturbed by those things.

Chelsea looked to her bed, and saw Nibbler asleep on her pillow, purring from somewhere inside herself, also bearing no face. Chelsea cried softly as she laid beside her feline friend, resigned to her new reality. Slowly she drifted to sleep in her sadness.

When Chelsea woke up, she immediately felt around for her cat, hoping to feel her crisp whiskers. She found Nibbler and realized her nightmare had not ended, when she felt her smooth furry face.

More sobs befell Chelsea as woe filled her heart, she had wanted it all to be an awful dream so badly. Chelsea prayed to her God that she wouldn’t have to live in the world of faceless men and women.

A plot to escape began to formulate in her mind, but it was very dependent on the aggression on the faceless, and their willingness to let her leave. Chelsea swung her legs off of the bed and tip toed to the window, moved the curtain with one hand, and peeked outside.

Every square foot surrounding her house was occupied by a faceless resident of her town, and every one was looking right at her. Paul, and Chelsea’s parents, stood shoulder to shoulder, on her driveway, looking at Chelsea. They did not bear features but if they did, they would have been of sorrow.

Chelsea looked to Paul as he touched where his mouth would have been, and then pointed to Chelsea. Chelsea traced her lips with her index finger, and she internally moaned with horror.

Chelsea’s lips had no seam or part for which she could use to open her mouth. She ran to the vanity and watched as her lips completely fused together. She grunted and groaned as she watched her nose follow suit, and she suddenly felt as though she was suffocating.

The bones of her nose cracked as her face completely flattened over the place where her nose used to reside. Chelsea could not fathom becoming like the faceless, and she could already feel her eyes getting tight and watery. Chelsea knew she’d be blind soon, so with resolve, she grabbed her crucifix from the wall and used to to smash her vanity.

As her vision began to fail, Chelsea grabbed the biggest mirror shard, whimpered softly and pressed it to her neck. Dark overtook her sight, and she used her free hand to feel her face. Smooth. Smooth like the unbroken snow. Smooth like the water on a beautiful summer day. Smooth like Paul’s lips on hers, crooning her in sweet submission.

Chelsea thought of Paul, her parents, and Nibbler for a final passing thought, as she dug the mirror shard across her neck.

In her darkest moment, she saw light once more, and then was at peace.

“This is your host -bzzzzt- here to bring you the news of the accident on the Zilwalkee bridge this evening. Chelsea Kowalski, aged 23, sadly was in a fatal accident this evening around -bzzzzt-”