It Creeps

Hey there, February, want some new 100% plant-based horror? Check out my latest story about a guy who kills another guy, and the plant that haunts them both.

It Creeps

Spring

Wallace looked over the top of his empty beer can at Jimmy sitting on the other end of the dirty, threadbare orange sofa. Wallace sat with his back to the night, the screen door letting in the departing chill of spring and the bewitching love songs of frogs and crickets.

“Beer’s gone. Go get more.” Jimmy punctuated his order with a loud belch and tossed his empty can on the grimy shag carpet.

“You go get more.” Wallace set his half-empty can on the arm of the sofa. It stank, the sofa, he couldn’t even remember how he’d gotten it. Or maybe it had always been there, the trailer built up around it like a shrine for some unholy relic. Protective. He hadn’t bought it, that was for certain. Money was never a thing Wallace had, and he didn’t now either. He did remember where some of the stains on the sofa had come from, none of the memories were good ones. Most involved bodily fluids.

He stared at Jimmy, the only lights in the trailer coming from the TV and the overhead in the kitchenette, where Ronda sat on the counter, feet in the sink, smoking and doing her nails.

“I bought it last time.” Jimmy said, lighting a cigarette. Wallace couldn’t exactly remember where he’d gotten Jimmy, either. Seemed like they’d just always been, together. Not friends so much as co-sufferers of this shitty life. Maybe all the way back to middle school? Hard to say, what with all the drugs life had insisted he do.