[Previous]
The previous interview still has a tight hold on me. Its thorns have dug deep into my mind, replacing my dreams with nightmares.
“You’ve already done it.”
What did I do? If anything, I feel like I made things worse.
For days now, I’ve wandered lonely roads. Usually, long drives would ease me out of the shit I’ve seen or heard, but not this time. I went on a walk two days ago in the woods, longing for silence and hoping for peace.
I ended up having another sighting of her. I don’t know who she is. I can’t distinguish any features, she’s too bright. I’m thinking of calling her Bizarra.
I noticed her ethereal light peeking from behind a tree. As I approached, she dissolved. The scorched earth where she stood glittered with opalescent flecks as if her presence left traces of fallen stars. I’m confident she’s observing me now as I type this, her gaze burrowing into me like a parasite.
I surveyed the rest area I’m in out of paranoia but spotted nothing but RVs and cars.
I’ve theorized Bizarra’s significance since the moment I spotted her in the back seat of my car. I have come to one presumption. I believe she’s the one causing everything and is simply using me as her personal entertainment. However, this half-baked theorization is nothing more than that…half-baked. Perhaps she believes I serve a purpose or perhaps the purpose is to serve. Whatever our entanglement is, I intend to uncover it and hopefully understand it.
Anyway, after driving frivolously through North Dakota, I entered Minnesota (my birth state). I thought of going back to that alleyway, to that dumpster. But I couldn’t, not yet at least. I’m still not brave enough to go back there.
Exhaustion slowly claimed my awareness. I swerved as feverish nightmares encroached. Looking in the rearview mirror, I spotted a baggy, red-eyed, and deflated man leering back at me.
Just go to sleep. A voice inside me whispered. “I just gotta keep driving,” I told myself.
The steering wheel felt strangely hot. I let go for just a moment, nearly hitting a parked car in the process. Thankfully, I recovered before anything bad could happen.
The flashing lights and blaring sirens stirred me awake. “Shit,” I muttered. The police officer knocked on my window and gestured for me to “roll it down.”
I couldn’t help but smile at the officer. He took one good look at me and I did the same.
-——–
Title of Interview: The Detective
Interview 1
Location: Eidonal City, MN
Interview Setting: At a random street
Date: 01/23/2024
Attendees: Joshua Angkitz (Interviewer) and John Doe [Fake Name] (Interviewee)
Affiliation with The Bizarre: Can communicate with spirits
[Of all the cops that could have pulled me over, it ended up being him, a friend from long ago. Some may say “It’s a small world,” but I know better than most.
It’s always nice seeing a familiar face, especially his. John Doe has always been a good friend. He narrowed his eyes at me. I followed his gaze until he stared at the tape recorder. I hadn’t realized I was holding it all this time.]
John D: It’s been a while.
Joshua A: Yeah, it has.
John D: [Smiles before resting his hand on the roof of my car.] Are you still experiencing strange shit? What did you call it…ah, that’s right…the Bizarre. [He stretches out the word “Bizarre” for dramatic effect.]
Joshua A: Honestly, I’ve been taking a godly number of drugs to suppress my abilities. It works wonders, I can sell you some. [Long pause.] I’m kidding by the way.
John D: Better be.
Joshua A: [Nervous laugh.] I still experience the Bizarre. But what about you John? You still see dead people?
John D: From the looks of you, I’m seeing one now. What in the gravelly hell are you doing here?
Joshua A: Driving.
John D: Swerving more like it. [Laughs.] You know I rarely pull people over. But it felt like I needed to. I don’t know. Is that weird? Or should I say Bizarre? [Laughs.] Where are you heading?
[Behind John was a wooden fence. On the other side of the fence, a radiant glow bloomed. John followed my gaze but was oblivious to what was going on.]
Joshua A: I’m where I’m meant to be, John.
John D: [Turns to face me.] Is that right? Well then, let’s catch up. I just got off work. There’s this diner not too far from us, just follow behind me.
-——–
For a little background on John, he was a deputy back in my hometown in Red Wing. He was the only one who believed in the Bizarre just as much as me.
He confided in me, said that he’d always been able to speak to the lingering dead—a rare gift. We are both Lusus Naturae. I haven’t seen him since he left our small town to become a detective in the big city. His badge and clothing told me he’d made it.
-——–
Interview 2
Location: Eidonal City, MN
Interview Setting: Nikki’s
Date: 01/23/2024
Attendees: Joshua Angkitz (Interviewer) and John Doe [Fake Name] (Interviewee)
Affiliation with The Bizarre: Can communicate with spirits
[As I exited my car, I felt a chill creep up behind me. Turning around, I saw her…Bizarra. She was still too bright to fully comprehend, except for those two orbs.
“You coming?” John said, breaking my gaze. I turned to him then back at her. She was gone.
We were the only ones at the dinner. After sliding into the vinyl booth across from John, we ordered our food. I nonchalantly placed the tape recorder between us. John was puzzled, and chuckled when I hit play.]
John D: Is this your thing now? Interviews?
Joshua A: Only when it involves the Bizarre.
John D: Is that right? [Laughs.] How will this interview be conducted?
Joshua A: I ask people to recount their bizarre encounters.
John D: In that case, I don’t know where to begin. I’ve solved a lot of cases, many of them labeled impossible. But when you can do what I can do, it makes this job slightly easier. Don’t get me wrong, a lot of detective work still needs to be done even if the guy who got murdered is telling me who murdered him.
Evidence can be vexing. [Laughs.] I always believed that this special ability of mine would someday lead me to a room with padded white walls. That day still may come.
[I found it fascinating how John uses what I deem a puzzling gift as a tool to effectively catch criminals. I find that the Bizarre is not always outright, it’s like a puzzle made up of different pieces from various boards that still—by some miracle—fit together. If John found a way to use his Bizarre ability, maybe I can as well. Maybe the shitty puzzle in front of me has meaning that I’m yet to understand. There has to be meaning in madness.]
Joshua A: You’re a real Melinda Gordon aren’t ya? How many cases have you solved using your gift? And are you working on one now?
John D: Too many. But, as a matter of fact, there is this one case I’m working on. I get that people are afraid to talk to the police, but so are the dead. And if they won’t talk, then something is not right in Eidonal City. Look, I can’t disclose much given that it’s still ongoing; however, I do have one Bizarre story I can speak of.
[Outside, the diner sign sputtered briefly before resuming its buzzing neon glare through the smudged windows. A bone-deep chill spiraled through me, contrasting the muggy air. I noticed a glow behind John’s head before two hands made of light reached outwards. John turned, and the light vanished.]
John D: You okay, Josh?
Joshua A: I’m fine. Tell me about the case.
John D: You sure?
Joshua A: Yes.
John D: Okay. I have this partner who is an older thick-headed bastard who has been a detective for the ECPD for well over 16 consecutive shitty years. Let’s call him Bax.
Bax and I were on a case that involved the kidnapping of a little boy no older than nine. This case is one of many that I…I just can’t forget. It haunts me in more ways than one, and that’s saying something coming from the guy who talks to ghosts.
The boy, who I’ll refer to as “Matthew” to not use his real name, was snatched from the backseat of his family’s minivan. We had the father’s statement. “The father” was having difficulties paying in one of those self-pump stations. So, he begrudgingly walked inside to pay, leaving his nine-year-old sleeping son in the car.
He probably thought, “Hey, I’ll only be gone for a few minutes.”
What people don’t understand is that a lot of things can happen in just a few minutes. This case is a testimony to that. When the father came back, his son was gone.
Reviewing the security tapes, we saw an older gruffy-looking man take off with Matthew. From the looks of it, Matthew was trying to scream, but the deranged fuckhead covered his mouth. We now have dozens of officers looking for the kid.
Since the surveillance camera spotted him fleeing on foot, we speculated that he couldn’t have gotten far. A five-mile search radius was established. Bax drove us in the direction of the kidnapper.
The area in which this occurred was not a heavenly place. It has a poor reputation: drugs, mugging, rape, murder, and kidnapping. We tried talking to the locals, but they’re not very fond of us. They hate us really. Well, not all locals were like that. I spotted a lost spirit waving at me.
This was our first encounter, one of hundreds. He can’t talk as his mouth is wired shut. I don’t know what happened to him, but he helps from time to time.
“Stop the car,” I yelled to Bax. The wheels screeched to a halt. Bax, from the corner of my eye, looked pissed.
“What is it?” I remember him saying.
Stepping out of the vehicle, I approached the specter while ignoring Bax’s protests. When I drew close, the specter drifted further into the narrow alleyway. I was about to follow it, but Bax yanked me out by the collar. Before he could berate me, I spoke up.
“You got to believe me, I can’t explain it but,” I looked at the apparition then back at him, and said. “I know how to find him.”
Withdrawing his words, he simply nodded and followed right behind me. I followed the spirit, its ghostly dust flowing with the wind.
Joshua A: Dust?
John D: It’s not normal dust, more transparent. [Groans.] That doesn’t help…umm, it’s what the spirits are composed of. It’s this fluorescent sapphire grime that surrounds them, kinda resembles dust. Every spirit I’ve met has it.
Anyway, I followed the spirit through these decaying backstreets until he led me to an abandoned hotel: The Orchard. He then vanished.
I glanced at my partner. He had this confused expression on his face that said every foul thing imaginable.
“Why are we here?” he said.
“They’re here, I can’t explain how I know, but call it a gut feeling.”
“A gut feeling?” My partner snickers, “There’s a kid missing, the parents are worried sick. Time is not on our side, John. Why did I let you lure me to god knows where?”
He was rightfully pissed. From the moment we met, he hated me. He still hates me now, but I believe I’m growing on him.
I remember saying, “You could’ve stopped me, why didn’t you?” He paused and took one good look at me. Before he could say another word, his gaze fixed on something behind me. I turn to look as well.
It was one of Matthew’s shoes near the entrance of the abandoned hotel.
“Should we call it in?” I ask. Bax nodded. “More than a few screws loose in that head of yours,” Bax said.
I simply laughed and said, “After you, partner.”
The entrance of the Orchard was boarded up; however, one of the boards was loose. It was enough to tell us that they went inside.
As we stood in the dingy lobby, the lights on our phones carved thin beams through the darkness. I immediately felt dread encompassing my entire body. “You okay there, John?” Bax said. Through trembling lips, I replied, “Yeah, I’m fine. it’s this place. It’s off-putting.”
Pulling out our sidearms, Bax reassured me in a way that I suppose he thought was helpful. He said, “Pull yourself together, don’t get too loose to the point where you unravel.”
He [Laughs.] Yeah, he didn’t say that, just told me to get my shit together. I hate cases that involve kids.
We ended up splitting up. He took the upper floors while I checked everything at ground level. I searched the lobby and found nothing. No dust. I went deeper into the hotel.
Found myself standing in a dining hall. Peeled wallpaper hung off the walls as the smell of mold and the sound of something scattering about off in the distance all added to my uneasiness.
I spotted something glimmering in the center of the dining hall. Approaching it, I heard laughter, music, and clinking glasses. But as I drew closer, I heard blood-curdling screams. The spectral dust got wider as it swirled violently before dispersing into an enormous cloud of spectral dust, knocking me to the ground.
My hand stiffen, making me drop my gun. Thank god it didn’t fire accidentally. I heard voices all around me growing louder and closer. The glimmering dust coalesced into ghastly shapes.
They were people, Josh…from long ago. And they were screaming…
[John pauses and takes a sip from his drink as I peer into his eyes. I immediately can tell that he briefly relived that moment just now.]
John D: Do you ever feel like you’ve gotten stronger or more out of control? I used to be inept, but after using my gift for so long, I can’t help but think I’ve only gotten stronger. Chatting with the dead isn’t all it’s cracked up to be though. Wish I’d gotten something else, maybe yours.
Joshua A: Trust me. You don’t want it.
John D: Do you think there are more people like us?
Joshua A: Yes. I interviewed one a few days ago. She… [Clicks tongue.] I learned that there’s a word for people like us: Lusus Naturae. It means freak–
John D: Of nature. [Laughs.] Ain’t that fitting. I have a question for you, Josh. Do you think you’ve gotten stronger?
Joshua A: [Glancing out the window, I spotted something bright and simmering through the cold air. I smile.] Most definitely. You?
John D: Same**.** I get visions now…if I pick an object that resonates with a deceased individual, I get a glimpse of what happened to them. I see them struggle. I see them get butchered. I see fear in their eyes.
I also experience their feelings: sadness, fearfulness, hopelessness. It’s all too much, but there are these rare occasions where I felt not just the victims’ last emotions.
I also felt those of the killers too. I felt their anger…their jubilation for taking a life. I can’t imagine how you must feel.
Joshua A: Our dispositions are mildly different. That what ails us is something that must be acknowledged, unfortunately. You solve cases, save lives, and stop criminals. I only seem to fall further into the unknown.
John D: It feels like we’re not meant to be normal.
Joshua A: Normality is overrated.
[We share a grim laugh, it lingers for a bit before dissipating.]
Joshua A: How about we get back on track?
John D: Alright. A little backstory on the Orchard Hotel, it was closed down after an unknown toxin made its way into the vents, presumably Agent Orange. You know, it’s that gas they used during the Vietnam War. God, what a shitty way to die. Everyone inside was either killed or deformed.
Bax was one of the first responders. He told me about these guys in black suits seizing control of everything and completely stonewalling him. Their credentials overshadowed everyone’s. I’ll have to ask him more about that night to see what he’s willing to cough up.
But the people I saw…they’re the ones that now surrounded me. They were those who died that night. I was feeling their pain. It was too much to bear. A numbness spread through me, each breath was labored as if I were drowning in icy waters.
“Get back!” I remember yelling.
Their voices clamored and overlapped in a distraught chorus. “Can he hear us?” “Yes, he can.” “Help us…help us cross the Bourne.”
Hundreds of voices cried out to me in deep strides of pain, heartbreak, and distress. It all commingled and fragmented my thoughts. Suddenly, I couldn’t remember where I was.
I ended up lashing out. “I can’t fucking help any of you. Just…shut up. Let me think…Ha…Has anyone seen a boy?” They grew closer. The penetrating cold intensified. One spirit lay a hand on my shoulder. It was so cold that it fucking burned.
Collapsing to the ground, I stonewalled. “I’m sorry, I can’t help you…any of you.” Gulping down the icy air, I closed my eyes and sent a prayer to the man above. Am no believer, but in situations like those, all you can do is ask for help from a higher power. It makes the situation seem less hostile.
After a while, things shifted. I opened my eyes, and I was alone again. But I knew the dead were still surrounding me. They always are.
Joshua A: What about here in the diner? Are there ghosts among us now?
John D: [His eyes jiggered around the diner, growing larger before snapping back at me.] More than there should be.
Joshua A: What’s this “Bourne” they mentioned?
John D: No idea…but they seem to think I can help them cross it.
Shaking off the encounter, I pressed on and muttered, “Find the kid. Just find the fucking kid.” I grabbed my gun and continued my search. As soon as I entered the kitchen, I heard a voice crying off in the distance. Following it led me to a door, which led to a basement.
I radioed Bax. “Heard crying coming out of the basement. Get down here quickly. What’s the ETA on our backup?” He didn’t respond.
As I descended the rickety steps, cold air pierced my skin. The basement felt uninviting. It cracked and groaned like an animal ready to pounce.
My phone’s dim flashlight barely carved a beam through the dark. The basement was a depressing jumble of discarded junk and rubble.
The crying continued. I didn’t want to call out into the darkness. For all I know, there could’ve been more than one kidnapper. The kid’s whimpering…I don’t know, it made me second-guess myself.
I decided on a calm assurance. “Surrender any weapons you have and come quietly. I promise you’ll come out of this unharmed. We just want to ensure the kid’s safety.” The crying stopped and a tiny voice broke through the darkness.
“Don’t hurt me anymore. I just want to see my mommy.” It was Matthew.
“Matthew, are you alright? Is the person who took you still here?” I asked gently.
“No. He got angry and left. Yelled, that he didn’t want to play with a broken toy”
Joshua A: Fuck sake.
John D: [Blinking back tears.] I told him who I was, told him I was there to rescue him. I radioed Bax again but got no reply.
So, I searched for him. I had a hard time tracking him down in the basement. His voice kept echoing off the walls. “Why did he hurt me?” Matthew asked, “I wasn’t a bad boy. My mommy told me bad boys get hurt, but she lied ‘cause I wasn’t bad.”
I [Pause.] How do you respond to that?
[John’s voice shakes. He looks torn apart, maybe he is. He drank his water, finishing it in a matter of seconds. He then clears his throat before fixing his posture.]
Joshua A: If you need time to take a break…
John D: No, I’m good. If I stop now, I’m not sure I can continue. Hearing Matthew’s voice pierced my soul.
“You think my mommy is going to be mad?” he asked through mewl coughs.
“No,” I said, “She’s going to be thrilled to have you back. She’s going to give you the biggest hug you’ve ever received, kid.”
[John’s eyes puffed red. His lips started to quiver.]
“You’re scared,” I told him. “I get that. I promise you that your mom…she’ll never let you go after this.”
I kept looking and looking, but I just couldn’t find him.
“What if the sinful man comes again? I don’t want him to hurt my parents. He said he would.”
Still following his voice, I said, “Trust me, kid, the bad man won’t hurt you or your parents.” My voice remained steady despite the growing lump in my throat.
“You promise?” Matthew said.
“I promise.”
That must’ve eased him ‘cause he started crying less. “I see you,” he said, “I’m right here.” I spotted one of those big storage cabinets with the doors slightly open. A familiar glimmer came from within.
I then heard the small echo of tiny feet sneaking up behind me. “Can you take me to my mommy and daddy? I want to hug them.” I turned around and spotted Matthew. His eyes were filled with fear. He sobbed and glared at me with these big wide eyes. “I want to see my parents.” He hiccupped. “Please take me home.”
“I’m sorry, kid,” I said. He broke down and cried even louder before running up to me and wrapping his arms around my legs. I bit down on my tongue and endured the burning pain.
My radio crackled to life. Bax was on the other end. “We got him! John, we fucking got him.” [Heavy sigh.]
“Did you find the kid? John…Did you find that kid? Is he safe?” Bax yelled. [Long pause.] I radioed him back to tell him what I found.
“I found him…he’s dead, Bax. We were too late.”
Joshua A: Holy fuck, John.
John D: Yeah…the bastard who did it was only given 15 years. If you ask me, 15 years isn’t enough.
[We sat in silence for a minute before he spoke up. Pain laced his voice.]
John Doe: I visit him, you know. He’s a sweet kid with a bubbling personality. I really wished we’d gotten there on time, wished we’d saved him. No kid deserves to linger on as a ghost. I can’t imagine how scared he must have been down there in the dark, how much pain he endured. All I can do is bring a little light to his darkness when I visit to tell him about his family. It’s not enough, but it’s something.
[John released a heavy sigh. The weight of countless lost souls still rested on his shoulders. I couldn’t imagine the toll of being haunted and needed by the dead.]
John D: Sometimes, I wondered what my life would be like if I stayed in Red Wing.
Joshua A: Same. But look at what you’re doing. You’re helping the city and the people. You couldn’t do that back in Red Wing. You’re exactly where you need to be.
John D: I hope so. Looks like our food is arriving.
Joshua A: We’ll call it a day…Oh, and by the way, should I change your name?
John D: Why?
Joshua A: I don’t think having a detective tell me about how he solves cases with the aid of the departed is a good look.
John D: Good point.
Joshua A: So, what do you want me to put you as? Ed Warren? Ronan O’Connor? Mary Ann Winkowski?
John D: Haha. Asshole. John Doe will suffice.
-——–
Our food arrived shortly after he finished talking. While we ate, we talked and reminisced like old times.
Near the meal’s end, his phone rang. “Ah shit, it’s my mom. I gotta take this. Give me a second.” He put down a crisp 50-dollar bill on the table before saying, “It’s good seeing you again, Josh. If you ever need anything or want to hear another story. You know where to find me.”
He then left, leaving me all alone at the table. It was good seeing him again. I finished up my food and left a handsomely generous tip for the server.
As I got in my car, something clicked into place, and it bothered me. John’s mom died years ago…so, who the hell was he talking to?
-——–
Personal Recording:
Joshua A: [Heavy panting.] Where are you? Is this where you decided my fate? [Howling wind.] I know you’re here. I can feel you.
[There was nothing to be seen, but a presence was felt. As I walked towards the dumper, glimpses of that moment stirred into my mind. The man’s stretched mouth, his twisted limbs, and his voice materialized in my mind.]
Joshua A: Why me? Just tell me that. I just want to understand, help me understand. I started this to get answers, but all you’ve given are more questions. [Howling wind.] Fine. Don’t fucking answer me. [Laughter.] Fuck you! You hear that…FUCK YOU. [Laughter.] Is this what’s in store for me? Am I here to chase a never-ending enigma?
[Glancing at my hand, I couldn’t help but laugh as I held the tape recorder.]
Joshua A: You’ve made me into a real documentarian, huh?
[The presence festers in the alleyway with me, I sensed it growing. A harsh gush of wind nearly knocks me off my feet before settling.]
Joshua A: When we meet, bet your ass that I’m going to make you answer every question I have.
-——–
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