Hey!…. Just a quick preface. I’m a guy in his mid 30’s. I moved to this God forsaken city in my early 20’s for grad school. It both feels like yesterday and forever ago that I brought the move in truck from the comfort of my undergrad in the woods to move here with my college buddies to go to grad school. Several years have passed since then. I’ve accumulated a number of horrible experiences, or I guess in this case tales from living here. Spoiler alert… I have survived them, which is the only way I’m able to be speaking to you now. All of this to say, I may go into a lot of details about myself, my job, my friends, etc. that may not seem very relevant to the story. Part of it is that I’m a rambler. The second part is I’m a rambler with ADHD. The third is that at some point, either in this story or a future one from my life in this city, the information will be relevant. Either way, I hope you get something out of these stories… whether it be some mild enjoyment, something in the background to pass the time, or maybe some tips that’ll save your life if you ever find yourself in the City of Phear.
I lay my head on my desk. The last session’s done for the day. I don’t know why I do this to myself. I’ve finally done my day after finishing up the 9th therapy hour in a row. Some of them easy, some of them difficult, but I always save the couple’s sessions for the end of the day. It’s not really my choice. Trying to coordinate working schedules between myself AND two other people is always difficult. After a full day of work and skipping lunch I’m going to have to control two adults from just screaming at each other or making the worst passive aggressive comments ever. I mean, I’m a seasoned therapist so I do it and it’s just… doing couple’s sessions always brings me back to my youth when I refereed the younger kids ice hockey games. Either I’m breaking up fights between the kids or I’m worries about the parents trying to meet me in the parking lot for not calling the tripping penalty against their kid. It almost always feels like a lose lose situation no matter what you do. They don’t pay us enough for this shit. Love helping people, but the fact we don’t get paid enough for this shit is pretty universal for all therapists across the country.
Oh well, all done. Another day another dollar I guess. For some God forsaken reason, probably really awful media portrayals, people seem to think that we’re like doctors and make bank, but the reality, the majority of us are just scraping by paycheck to paycheck. But hey let met get off of my pity party soap box. I’m done for the day. I get to go home, maybe if I have enough energy or emotional where with-all I can meet up with some friends for a late night drink before I turn in and get ready to do it all again.
I leave my office and as I walk down the street towards the subway station, I can’t help but laugh a bit. In this part of the city, definitely the more affluent and upscale than where I can afford to live. The side walks sparkle. Yeah you heard that right. They ACTUALLY sparkle! It looks like they put chunks of glass, quartz or whatever into the concrete along the walkway so the light reflects off of it. Makes me feel like I’m in some fairytale before I have to take the steps down underground that even here smell like piss before I hop the train back home.
I’m sorry if I sound so negative. It may even surprise you to hear that a therapist is so jaded and angry, but it’s a lot more common than you think. I mean c’mon. We spend the majority of our days listening to other people’s problems, half the time, people that have a much better life than we could ever dream of, and we have to be empathetic, understanding, and professional. Eeeeehhhh… Don’t pay too much attention to me though. I work in a spot that caters to the big rich university in the city, meanwhile I live in the just about to be but not quite gentrified neighborhood far away. The one that’s got that weird combination of people coming in from the affluent suburbs in droves forcing the long terms residents out, but still has more zombies on street corners, parks, and subway stations than a Romero flick.
I’m tired. I just want to get back home. I’m weighing whether I want to text some friends to see if they want to meet up for a drink at one of the neighborhood spots or if I just want to get home, throw on some pajamas and binge watch one of the latest series I’ve been obsessed with. I wait for my train, throw on my noise cancelling headphones and put on some Get Up Kids. Need some nostalgic stuff to make me feel a little better after playing Jon Cawfee for the day.
The train ride home is fairly uneventful, only a few folks on the car with me. I don’t pay too much attention as “Something to Write Home About” blasts in my ears. I get a text from my buddy Steve. “Hey bud! Me and the gang are hanging at the usual spot. Come on through!” Welp, Guess I got some plans. I could sure do with a few beer and shot specials before I turn in. The train rumbles underground for a bit until it crests and comes above ground and becomes quote, unquote elevated! Just a few stops until I get off. It’s not completely night dark, but there’s barely a sliver of the sun showing if at all past the skyline.
As the car pulls up to the station I step off the train and onto the platform. I take a good look left and right. Gotta keep your wits about you. Again I’m stammering on…. So… I did this as is my habit…. But oddly enough…. I was the only one to get off at my stop. Usually always a few artists, drunks, locals, zombies, or other poor social workers like me getting off to go to my neighborhood. It’s not quite what I’d expect but “Oh well… all good for me.” Nobody I have to look over my shoulder for in case they think the dress shoes and dress shirt mean I have more than $7 in my wallet.
When it’s Summer and everything’s hot as hell, you expect things to smell, especially if you live in a big city. It’s unavoidable. In the Fall…. Which it is…. Early October to be clear… you’d think it wouldn’t be so bad but… The station reeks of piss and really bad weed. I’m surprised I don’t see a couple of users hanging in the corner tonight, but the only remnants of them is a small pile of human shit and a few discarged needles I have to side step going down the stairs. I go through the turn-style and it’s just a little over half a mile back to my place. The bar my friends are at is somewhat on the way, so I figure I’ll make the decision of whether to meet them at about the halfway point before altering my course or not.
I am regretting a decision a little. you see, given my limited means, I live right on the boundary between where it’s really punk rock and artsy and cool to live, and where it’s really dangerous. Usually during the Fall to Winter seasons when it gets dark super early, folks are getting more desperate, and the veil is just a tad bit thinner, I get off one station earlier than my usual. It’s a bit of a farther walk home but much safer and worth it. I guess I wasn’t paying attention or was too tired, because I didn’t do that today.
Even in the most dangerous sections of this city, it doesn’t feel dangerous so long as there are a lot of people around, which isn’t out of the normal for most big cities like this one. Ya know, there’s a sense that everyone is both afraid, but knows the score, and is willing to look out for you in the hopes you’d look out for them in case something out of worldly were to happen. Occasionally though….on nights like tonight, you find yourself alone.
Everything looked a bit darker than it should as I walked down those stairs, stepped over the shit, and went through that turnstile. I hadn’t gotten any texts back from friends to see if they wanted to meet up for a drink but at this point, I’d be okay talking the bartenders ear off or sitting in the corner like the nerd I am playing some phone games while I drank down some whiskey. Not long after going through the turnstile, making my quick right turn and stepping over some trash, I saw an odd figure.
I saw a person that was wrapped in a dirty bed comforter. They immediately gestured towards me. To be honest, I’ve seen so many weird things around here that this didn’t completely surprise me… but it was the first time I saw someone using a bed comforter for clothing. It was dirty off white with a few patches of random colors…. Stained. Looked like one of those old bedding pieces I might have had in college and held on to long after I should’ve trashed it and paid a few bucks for something new.
In spite of the beckoning… I did my usual and tried to just walk past and ignore. The person yelled from across the street “Hey Buddy! Help me! I need some help!, real quick! I promise I’m not asking for money!” It might have been nice if I kept my feet moving but then again, in spite of all of my bitching and complaining about people earlier I actually am a caring person. I stopped for just an instant. I didn’t turn… but I felt the figure shuffle across the street and get closer to me. I felt a weird chill run down my spine.
“Dude… I’m not one of these assholes that are out here normally. I don’t need any money. I just need to call somebody so I have a place to stay. Can you lend me your phone?”
I’m not going to lie to you. I felt a really strange danger response to this. My adrenaline got pumping some, but moreso than anything else I thought “HELL NO! If I give this dude my phone I’m never getting it back!” I kept walking…. I felt guilty in case this was just me being some sort of classist, not willing to help someone who was at the end of their rope when even though I didn’t have much but obviously had a lot more. I didn’t have too much time to dwell on the guilt. Because as I kept walking. I kept walking faster and faster. I heard footsteps behind me. Footsteps. Faster and faster.
My follower was close and with each step closing in. I tried to pick up my pace, but he picked up his pace even more. I heard him yell out “Come on man! What? you’re too good to lend someone in need your phone!?!?! You’re afraid I’m gonna jack it you rich prick!?!?”
I don’t know what it was exactly. Something about the way he said that just now hit me in certain way and I began to feel guilty as hell.
“Have I become so jaded and so paranoid that I’m not willing to help out a fellow human being when they just need to make a phone call? I’ve been out at bars in the past, had a few too many, had no juice in my phone, and needed some help. Why am I acting like this?”
While I’m thinking about this… I realized something…. The guy following me stopped… just as I did and didn’t keep coming towards me. I began to turn around but felt a sudden severe chill that went down my spine. At that point… I took of running! I don’t know why. I immediately realized there were footsteps behind me…. Not running at my pace, but trying to keep up.
As I get farther and father away from the train stop and closer to residential neighborhoods…. My house… I see a guy coming up from a cross street. He’s the first person I’ve seen since I got off the train other than the comforter-clad guy following me. This dude was a bit taller than me, was dressed in a bunch of plaid and had a man bun…. The stereotype of the type of richer hipsters taking over…. Shit…. Sorry that doesn’t matter…. The important thing is that I tried to… well I don’t know what I tried to do. I tried to warn him? I tried to ask for help? I just kept running and probably said something like “Heeeeeeeeeeeey! don’t try to..with…That..” before I got enough far ahead, didn’t hear the fast footsteps behind me. I did hear this.
“Hey Buddy! What’s going on? Do you need anything??!?!!?!” Then within just a few seconds I heard a terrible sound. I don’t know exactly how to describe it… like a banshee shriek? It was really high pitched and sounded like a cross between something ear shattering high and one of those generic sounds old-school computer games made for dragons.
I should’ve known better. I’m not new to the city. When shit like this happens you just keep on walking! I have a bad habit of not doing the things that I know is the most reasonable. I heard the sound… I readied my feet to run as I turned around to look at the source of the noise.
I saw the bed comforter falling to the ground while something inhuman and terrifying came out. When I initially looked sideways at this dude he looked like a normal person around my size but what I saw coming out of this comforter was a terrifying creature with legs three times as long as it’s torso and bent in multiple directions as if it had three or more knee joints. It had arms that were just as long, at least 10 feet long if not a bit longer. It’s skin was pale…… not just pale but almost transluscent. I could see purple veins all throughout it’s body. It had a bald round head and rows of teeth that looked like sharks teeth….
It was staring at the guy with the man bun who looked like he was in a trance. It’s eyes looked black as coals…. But at the same time…. Looked like they had just a hint of purple in them. The hipster dude looked stunned…. Almost like he was shaking in fear…. But he wasn’t shaking at all. He looked like he was a stone statue. The creature in one quick movement…, like snake videos I’ve seen on Youtube lunged to take a bite out of his shoulder.
I did the dumbest thing anyone ever could…. But hey sometimes we just do things out of reaction. I Yelled! “Hey! Dude! Knock it the fuck off! Leave him alone!” I don’t know why I said that exactly. My adrenaline was pumping and I wasn’t really thinking clearly but shit… I was seeing this going down and watching a monster eat someone in front of me!
“Welp…. Shouldn’t have done that!” This disgusting creature had this big guy on the ground after taking a bloody chunk out of his shoulder shrieked that banshee dragon shriek again, bent it’s neck upwards and looked at me. I saw directly into it’s eyes. I didn’t see just a hint of purple anymore but a flash of a few seconds of purple of what I initially thought was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life. Not gonna lie… for just a few seconds… it felt like I was in a state of peace and calm unlike anything I have ever felt.
Well….. that only lasted for about 5 seconds…. Maybe less… before the feeling of anxiety and terror returned and I tried to turn around and book it. Ugh…. I couldn’t though. The first thing I noticed was everything from my knees down were not doing anything that I wanted them to… and I kind of fell face first onto the concrete. Over the next few seconds… I could feel that the paralysis was moving up my body. With every second I could move less and less from the feet up. Holy Shit! I’m donezo!
I haven’t even paid off my damn student loans yet! How is my family going to react!? !? Of course they’ll think “I told you so! You should’ve never moved to the City of Phear! We spent our whole lives working to get you and your brothers out!” I thought who’s going to tell my therapy clients. They’ll show up tomorrow expecting to get support and I won’t be there because I’ll be eaten by this weird, ugly, white/translucent creature!!!”
To be honest, I was so lost in my own thoughts of my own mortality and also trying to dissociate a bit so I didn’t have to fully experience being eaten the way this hipster was that I guess I didn’t see this things whole process…. But… my head was still turned somewhat towards the thing eating the guy that walked past me. It looked like for a second it was trying to decide…. “Did he want to focus on eating him…. Or did he want to focus on eating me?” This felt like an eternity but at the end…. The thing turned away from me and like a hungry shark lunged towards the stomach of the man who passed me by. As I could barely move I was forced to watch as this horrible evil thing tore out this guys innards no further than 40 feet in front of me.
I’ve seen some pretty gruesome horror movies and what not… but nothing prepared for me for seeing this pale, gangly, sharp toothed, gross ass creature, methodically tear out this guys large and small intestines. It will haunt me for the rest of my life.
Over time, as I was forced to watch this creature enjoy it’s meal, but it was not looking directly at me… I felt control return to my body, similar to when the blood has run out due to sleeping the wrong way….. but much slower. Trust me…. As soon as I could…. I got up… took off… and never looked back.