“Crap”
by William Payne.
© October, 2009
Lisa opened her browser, and clicked on the Facebook icon.
She sipped on the coffee on the coaster to her left. It wasn't a real coaster, just a failed CD, that didn't work when it had been burned, but it kept the hot coffee from discoloring the desk. It was a cheap desk, anyway, and a cheaper CD. The coffee was good – not as good as hazelnut cinnamon, but better than Folger's.
She scrolled quickly down the updates, reading some of them and ignoring others. There was Annie again, the person she had added to her friends list just so she could have a bigger Mafia in Mafia Wars, but she had never gotten around to “hiding” Annie's updates. Sometimes they were interesting, mostly crazy, and that always made things more fun. She wondered what it would be like to have a friend like Annie. Most of her real life friends were predictable. Fun, but predictable.
She added her own update, to replace the old one from yesterday.
“I think I'll go as a pimple for Halloween,” she wrote. “I'll paint myself red and hold a mouthful of mayonnaise.” That ought to entertain everyone, even if it is an old joke.
Next, she looked at the upper right corner, where there were three Mafia Wars gifts waiting, plus several invitations to apps – applications, in Facebook language – that she had no interest in.
But as she hit the ignore icons, one after the other, she saw one that sounded interesting.
Annie has sent you a free tombstone in the Real Life Horror game. [Accept], [Ignore].
Lisa had tried the Vampire game before, found it boring and a little silly, but she thought this sounded kind of fun. And after all, it was almost Halloween. And Annie's crazy, so this won't be some boring dog-walking game, or pie baking game, knowing her.
She accepted the tombstone, and then gave the app permission to install on her account.
Welcome to Real Life Horror. Select your character name and class.
“OK. I'll be Lisa, just because I like the name,” she said. She chose “female” from the simple menu, and considered whether to be mortal, vampire, ghost or monster. Mortal, she decided.
An instant message popped up on the lower right of her screen.
- Hey. It was Jan, a friend she had met in a class a few years back.
- Hey.Wassup?
- I got tickets to the haunted house the theatre is doing. Want to come? Tomorrow night.
- Sure.
- Gr8, TTYL.
Jan would be fun at a haunted house. She was always acting so fearless, but she screamed the loudest when something scary came out of the dark.
“OK, mortal I shall be, and we'll go with the default avatar. No, let's at least change the hair.” She took another sip of coffee, while the app did something that just seemed to waste time.
Level 1, said the message at the top of the screen, and then a graphic of a haunted house appeared. The house was surrounded by silhouettes of dead trees, and a yellow full moon was placed just behind the house. OK, let's see what we're supposed to do. She moved the mouse around the screen, looking for a link to click on. Maybe the door or window? She clicked on the door. Nothing. Must not be finished loading, she thought.
Someone knocked on the door, the real one on her real house, and Lisa jumped in her chair a little, and almost dropped the mouse on the floor.
“I don't know who you are, out there, but you're wrong, just wrong!” she muttered, and laughed, on her way to the door.
She opened the door, and there was nobody there. “Not funny,” she said, to whomever was probably hiding behind a bush, just out of sight. She closed the door. “At least they didn't leave a bag of flaming dog crap on the porch. Moron.”
She went back to her computer, and now the door to the house was open, and a small message box had appeared: Go in.
She clicked on the Go In box and the view zoomed up to the door and into the house. Now she was looking at a room in the house, with cobwebs and dusty furniture, and a new message box: Choose one: kitchen, dining room, pantry, basement, backyard. “This is going to work like those old text games, isn't it?” she asked no one in particular. Those used to be fun back in the day.
She chose kitchen. The scene changed to a clean, well-lit kitchen, with sharp knives lying around. A wooden cutting board was placed on the counter, next to two of the largest, shiniest knives. A pool of red liquid was dripping from the cutting board to the clean surface of the counter.
“Nice graphics, anyway. Now what?” she asked, and waited for another menu to appear. None came. “Maybe I'm supposed to find something to click on now,” she said, and moved the mouse around. Nothing again.
Another IM appeared in the lower right. It was Annie.
-You there?
-Yes.
-Did you install that app I invited you to?
-Yes.
She waited for a response, but none came.
-Do I need to do something? I don't really understand this thing.
Still no answer.
A menu appeared in the kitchen: Choose one: Pick up knife, Look under cutting board, or...
The kitchen became dark.
...find the fuse box and replace the fuse.
“Oh, this is going to be more fun than I thought,” she said, and considered her options. Whatever she did, she might be better off holding the knife, in case something jumped out at her. She selected pick up knife.
The knife lifted above the cutting board, as if held by a ghost. She selected look under cutting board.
The board tilted, and a large rat jumped out, as a scary shriek came from the speakers. The knife dropped to the floor immediately. As the sound of the knife clattering on the floor sounded, she heard a more realistic sound of something hitting the floor in her own, very real, kitchen.
A chill went down her spine. What in the world...?
She got up from her chair slowly. She stopped at the door to the hallway, and wondered if she should call somebody before going into the kitchen.
Silence from the rest of the house. Silence from the computer.
Instead of the kitchen, she went to the front door. Still locked. She wouldn't have left it unlocked. Not in this city. Good grief, she wasn't stupid.
She had to check the kitchen anyway, even if it was obvious that nobody... no, what are you thinking, girl? Anyone who came in could have locked the door behind them.
Brother. Check the kitchen.
Nobody in the kitchen. But there was a knife on the floor.
Crap!
And it wasn't one of hers. At least she didn't think so. She didn't exactly have a matched set.
Crap crap crap!
What now? Should she call 911? It's probably nothing. Probably. Should she call a friend? Yes, call a friend. Where's the phone? In her purse. Back in the study. Of course.
She looked around the kitchen quickly, to see if she could see any other signs of something being wrong. There was nowhere for anyone to hide. The pantry was way too small to hide in, way too shallow. She could barely fit her canned goods in, and some of the boxes – OK, keep your eyes open and get back to the study and get the phone. She listened carefully, maybe she could hear somebody breathing, but no, and now she could hear the wind blowing outside. Had it been blowing before? She got back to the study, opened her purse, and got the phone. It was turned off. I didn't turn it off, did I? What the freaking blazes...?Lisa, get a grip!
She turned it on, and it seemed to take forever to boot up. When it finally did, there were only two bars. There should have been four. No... now there was only one. She chose Chaston to call. He was big, and he was the type to be eager to come to a damsel's aid when needed. She scrolled to his name, and pressed the green “call” key.
Nothing.
There were no bars now. None.
Double crap!
What should she do? OK, first thing, stay rational. Don't panic. Think this out.
She didn't really know for sure that anyone was in the house. The thing to do is... Ah, cheese! What am I thinking? I have a by golly gee whiz bang loaded gun here!
...Except it's in the bedroom, down the hall the other way. OK. Get the gun, and then go around the house checking each room, one at a time. This could be nothing, just me getting jumpy the night before Halloween.
She listened. No sound but her own breathing. She went to the kitchen again, to make sure it was empty. OK... the knife. She should get the knife. Better than nothing. She picked it up, and walked silently down the hall, and opened the bedroom door. Nobody there. Nobody behind her in the hall, either. What about the closet?
No, back up a little. Check the utility room. Nowhere to hide in there, and this would make sure that nobody was following her and slipping past her. She opened the door, and it was empty. She closed the door again.
OK, into the bedroom, check the bathroom, then the closet.
Nothing was in the bathroom. So...it's the closet or nothing. If the closet is empty, I'm safe and I just imagined all this, and nobody has to know. Good thing I didn't call 911. Bad phone service can be a blessing. So... the closet. OK. The closet.
Not as easy as it sounds.
She held the knife firmly in her right hand, slowly and quietly gripped the closet door with her left. She held her breath. She yanked the door open.
Nobody in there either.
Oh, beans. Get a grip. See? Nothing to worry about here.
OK, where did the knife come from? She couldn't remember any recent guests bringing a knife. What was going on here? The knife wasn't familiar, but - she mostly had a collection of dishes and stuff, décor was Early Garage Sale.
She took several deep breaths and went back to her study, and looked at the screen again. The IM box had a conversation in it.
-You there?
-Yes.
-Did you install that app I invited you to?
-Yes.
-Do I need to do something? I don't really understand this thing.
-Don't.
-Don't what??
-Don't install it. It's bad.
-I already did. I'm enjoying it so far.
-Stop playing it. Delete the app. Now.
- Nah, I'm gonna play it.
She had not typed those words. Some hacker? She touched the keyboard, intending to ask Annie what was going on, what the blazes was going on, and...
Words appeared on the screen, but they weren't what she was typing.
- I'm not going to delete this. It's fun.
A new box appeared in the game window: Calm down, Lisa! You aren't hurt yet, are you? Choose: kill the rat, feed the rat, leave the kitchen.
As if her heart hadn't been pounding enough before, it beat faster. I don't like this. Should I play it? OK, it's just a silly game...
She chose Leave the kitchen. It seemed better than doing anything with the rat, which stared angrily at her from underneath the cutting board on the screen. Its eyes blinked from time to time, but otherwise it stayed still.
Go where, Lisa? Living room, bedroom, backyard?
Outside. She wanted to get on with it, get out of this stupid haunted house and finish this stupid game. The wind outside seemed to blow harder.
She clicked on the word backyard. And she immediately heard a loud shriek through the study window, out in the backyard. She swallowed. Nuts!This is nuts!
She checked the phone again. Still no bars. No signal at all. She tried to call anyway. Nothing.
A new message box appeared on the screen: You have to go outside now. It's the rules.
“Yeah? What if I don't?”
The screen said simply, the game gets worse if you don't.
Her chest hurt. Was the game listening to her? No. All these words made perfect sense without considering anything she had said. Why was she so jumpy? This comes from living alone too long.
She remembered the gun in the bedroom.
The next message was And don't bring your gun. If you do, you will lose the game because you cheated. It will be very bad if you lose. Don't lose.
It didn't say anything about the knife, though.
Oh, come on – it's just a game!
Well, yeah, but I guess it would be unsafe to carry a gun around when I'm this jumpy. I could end up shooting some cat, or even a kid. Or something.
With the knife firmly gripped, she went to the back door, which she always kept locked, and removed the deadbolt. She opened the door. The wind was blowing, and cold, and leaves were flying across the yard, it felt wrong. Something felt wrong. What?
Crap. Calm the blazes down, Lisa.
She stepped outside, and waited for something to happen. She didn't know if she would be able to actually stab anything if it attacked her, but she got ready to try, because what if....?
The porch light went out. Her world became dark and black for a moment, and when her eyes adjusted, she could see a completely different yard than she knew as her own. There were stones in rows. Gravestones. She looked behind her. Her house was gone. In its place was an old, two-story shack. A loose shutter was banging in the wind. She heard a noise, turned back to the yard, and saw the rat running to hide behind one of the stones. But now it wasn't a cartoon rat, it was a real one, a huge one. She heard another noise, and turned again, holding the knife in her shaking hands. Someone was coming out the door. She stepped back.
“Lisa?” said the figure in the dark.
Lisa wasn't sure if she wanted to see any better than she could in the dim moonlight. She wasn't sure if she should answer. She wasn't sure about anything at all.
“Come with me, Lisa. I know the way back. We have to go. Now.”
“Who are you? Who are you? Tell me now!”
“I'm Annie. Let's go.”
“Annie? From Facebook? Are you kidding me?”
“Yes, but let's go.”
“Crap! What is going on here? Where are we?”
“We're in a very bad game. We have to go. Now.”
“Can I trust you?”
“Now! We have to go now!”
“OK! Crap!” And they ran back into the house.
A very tall, very angry looking man in tattered clothes stood at the other end of the kitchen, blocking the door. They stopped, but almost collided with him.
“Let us through,” said Annie. “You have to let us through. You know this.”
“Crap crap CRAP!” said Lisa.
The man, who smelled very, very bad, as Lisa could now tell, whispered, “Stop saying 'crap,' Lisa. It makes you sound childish.”
Oh, crap, he knows my name? How does he know my name?
“Don't think it, either,” said the man. “I can hear your thinking. You think very stupidly.”
“I said let us through!”
Instead of moving aside, he lifted a meat cleaver. He lifted it slowly. It reflected the moonlight. It was surprisingly clean, given the filthy clothes the man was wearing. Lisa could see a narrow edge of freshly sharpened steel.
“Let us through.” Annie was not as loud, and she was shaking now, though not as badly as Lisa.
The man hurled the cleaver at the floor between their feet. It sank into the board almost all the way to its handle with a thunk! It was loud. Much louder than Lisa thought it should sound, maybe as loud as those theater sound effects – amplified, almost. She could feel the shock of its impact through the floor, and felt the sound in her chest. Dust fell from the walls to her side. More dust drifted down from the ceiling. The dust felt more than just dirty.
“Let us through.” Annie said it again, but sounded weak now.
The man nodded, smiled, and stepped aside.
“Well, go ahead and go,” breathed the man, rasping voicelessly. “I won't lift a finger.” He pointed at the cleaver in the floor, and on one side of it were four fingers, bleeding from their severed ends. He lifted his other hand. It had small bloody stumps instead of fingers. He began laughing and wheezing. Annie ran through the door, with Lisa close behind.
The front door wouldn't open.
“Annie?”
Annie stared at the door. She didn't move.
“What do we do, Annie?”
Annie didn't move. Lisa listened carefully. Annie didn't breathe. There was no wind outside. The world seemed to have gone silent. It seemed to have gone completely still.
She reached to Annie, but her hand passed through as if Annie were less than smoke.
“Annie?” she whimpered. “Annie? What do I do now?”
She looked back to the kitchen.
No sound. But there was a faint glow, or maybe it was just the moonlight. But it seemed like an artificial light.
She stepped closer to the kitchen. The cleaver was still in the floor, next to the fingers. The man no longer had a smell. He was motionless. He didn't even breathe, but Annie had no intention of touching him to see if he would move.
The glow was coming from outside the open door to the back yard.
She looked back again at Annie. No motion.
If anything was going on, it would be at the backyard, where the glow was. She went to the door, looked outside. Maybe there was a way out.
And there it was. Silent. Motionless. Suspended in the air, glowing, perpetually marking time, busy and yet not really busy. An hourglass. A Microsoft Windows hourglass icon, in the middle of the sky, waiting for some event. Waiting for something to happen, locked in an eternal, digital loop.
She looked back at Annie. Motionless. Silent.
There was no escape key. There was no mouse to move.
There was no reset button.
There was no tomorrow.
There would never be Halloween again. Not for Lisa.
“Crap,” she said, and sat on the ground. “Crap, crap and double crap.” The silence was going to be deafening.
