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Except for the music blasting from the stereo, they’d rode most of the way to his trailer in silence; Eddie hadn’t really minded, as he thought small talk was superficial most of the time and only resulted in saying stuff you didn’t care for.
Who woulda thunk it, though? Eddie “The Freak” Munson and queen bee Chrissy Cunningham, driving alone in his van at night to his trailer to get some Special K and finish up a sale. Although, if he were being honest with himself, their talk in the woods had felt a lot more than just a transaction. Usually, Eddie had a clientele that knew what they wanted right away and tended not to ask questions. That was fine with him, always had been.
But Chrissy?
As in, the girl he’s had a crush on since middle school?
No, the parameters of the situation were decidedly different based on those circumstances alone. And for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why that made him so happy.
Though now, Eddie couldn’t help but notice that pretty smile of hers was nowhere to be found. At this point, it needed its own missing poster. “Jeez, is my company boring ya, princess?”
Chrissy tore her eyes away from the window, a tad startled, as though remembering that Eddie was there. “Oh, sorry, um…no, I swear you’re not boring. It’s just that I…”
“Got a lot on your mind,” he finished for her. “You okay?”
It’s the second time he’s asked her that today, Chrissy realized. And just like that time in the woods, the only answer running through her brain was simple: no. But what was going on in her brain would be far too much to explain right now, so she settled on a familiar lie. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
A single nod from him, and his eyes are back on the road. Chrissy wished she could tell what he was thinking. About this situation, about her. He probably thought she was playing some sort of elaborate prank on him. Wanting to somehow lighten the mood, she cleared her throat and spoke again. “So…you’re a big music fan, right?”
Come on, Chris. Can you sound any stupider?
As they rolled to a stop light, Eddie gave her a look. “Well, yeah. Are…are people not fans of music? Is that a thing? I sure as hell hope not.”
She giggled. “I don’t know anybody that doesn’t. Who are some of your favorites?”
Surging forward now that the light was green, Eddie drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Oh, the usual. Black Sabbath, Iron Maiden, Metallica…”
Chrissy’s eyebrows crinkled together in confusion.
He blinked a few times, then let out a chuckle. “Right, right. I should’ve, uh, suspected that miss pom-poms wouldn’t be the biggest fan of heavy metal.”
The redhead shrugged, gesturing to her outfit. “Can you blame me?”
“Touché.”
A few moments later, they’d entered the trailer park. Chrissy wordlessly took in the sights around her, having not been to this part of town before; it was difficult for her to imagine living in a place like this, but she wasn’t going to judge anyone for doing so. Especially not the boy sitting beside her. She was sure that life had thrown him enough curveballs without her judgmental thoughts mucking things up.
Eddie pulled into an empty space a few feet away from the trailer, shifting the van into park. A second or two of silence, then: “Alright, so what’s your flavor? Musically, that is.”
A sudden feeling of dread enveloped her, the same way it had when she’d first arrived at their meeting spot in the woods. She closed her eyes for a second, trying to recenter her focus. “I don’t know why I’m drawing a blank right now…”
Eddie unhooked his seatbelt and shifted a bit, canting his body more toward her. “C’mon, there’s gotta be somebody you love. Beatles? Dolly Parton?” He dramatically cleared his throat before starting to sing: “Working 9 to 5, what a way to make a living …”
Eyes widening, Chrissy tried in vain to hide a laugh behind her hand at his crooning. Eddie’s gaze swept over her features, and he couldn’t help but to share the humorous moment with her, shaking his head. What an odd pair they made. “That’s about the worst Dolly impression I’ve ever heard!”
“How rude, Cunningham!” Eddie exclaimed, feigning hurt. “I put my heart and soul into that one!”
“Oh, is that what it was?” She raised her eyebrows, tilting her head to one side. “Let’s just say thank goodness Corroded Coffin doesn’t play pop music.”
“Well, damn. You are not pulling punches tonight, are you, princess?”
The tiniest of blushes crept across her cheeks at his use of that nickname for her again. Jason called her that sometimes—but it felt different coming from Eddie, somehow. “Okay, I just thought of one of my favorites: ABBA.”
She wasn’t the best at reading body language, but he almost seemed surprised. Maybe impressed? “ABBA, huh? Cool, cool. Solid choice.”
“You listen to ABBA?”
A scoff escaped his lips. “Do I look like a guy who listens to ABBA?”
“Well, your loss. My favorite is Gimmie Gimmie Gimmie. I think I have it memorized at this point.”
Eddie had to admit there was something slightly catchy about that one—but only to himself. Seeing as there was no point in wasting any more time, he yanked open the driver’s side door and hopped out. Chrissy followed suit, the slight, chilly breeze of March’s evening dislodging a few curls from her ponytail. He still couldn’t shake the feeling that she was hiding something—that something deep down was bothering her. But it wasn’t his job to ask questions.
He unlocked the door and stepped back to let her in. “After you. This is my, uh, castle.”
After he made it in he immediately felt embarrassed by all the clutter. He made his way over to a space where he stored some of his stash, clearing away day-old trash in the process. “Sorry for the mess. The maid took the week off.”
“It’s okay,” Chrissy responded. From his peripheral he watched as she took in her surroundings from where she stood timidly. “You, um…live here alone?”
“With my uncle,” Eddie answered as he pulled open a drawer, so far unsuccessful in his search. “But uh, he works nights at the plant…bringing home the big bucks.”
The joking, sarcastic tone he’d employed wasn’t working to ease the tension. Chrissy looked so tiny just a few feet away, that faraway look in her eyes magnified tenfold. “How long does it take?”
Eddie turned to face her. “Sorry?”
“The Special K,” she clarified, eyes darting back and forth. “How long to kick in?”
Jeez, she really did want the edge taken off and in a hurry. “Oh, uh, well, it depends if you snort it or not. If you do then uh, it’ll kick in pretty quick.”
Chrissy nodded wordlessly. She watched as Eddie stood to his full height, mumbling something under his breath. Okay, so maybe this hadn’t been her brightest of ideas. She sucked in a breath between her teeth. “You sure you have it?”
“No, no, I got it…somewhere.” He snapped his fingers once, like he remembered—
Then promptly turned on his heel and headed toward the back of the trailer.
Chrissy stayed rooted to the spot. Should I follow him? No, that would be silly. And inappropriate. She would just stand and wait. That was the best thing.
“There’s some cassettes on that side table if you wanna play something! Just keep the volume down!” Eddie called out. She could hear him rummaging through the drawers as he had in the main area.
Well, that was one way she could occupy her time and not feel like her legs were going to give way. Chrissy practically scurried over to the spot he’d recommended, and sure enough a mess of cassette tapes sat inside a small plastic bin. Above it was a tape deck about one size smaller than the one she had at home. Bending to one knee, she sifted through the bin a moment before landing on one with a familiar label.
She pulled out the cassette with a grin. Gimmie Gimmie Gimmie.
That Eddie… she thought to herself, shaking her head. The label was pretty worn, now that she examined it more closely. He’d probably say it belonged to his uncle if she tried asking about it.
Standing, Chrissy set the ABBA tape atop the deck, pressing the EJECT button when she noticed something was already inside. Something by Metallica, one of the bands he’d mentioned in the van. Tossing it back in the bin, she lifted a hand to grab the ABBA tape, then–
A loud, booming ticking of a grandfather clock suddenly echoed outside. Chrissy nearly screamed, whirling around to the window behind her. The curtains were open, and as she slowly inched closer, a chill shot down her spine.
Hands trembling, she peered out into the foggy, dark of night. Other trailers, a dog barking, streetlights…nothing out of the ordinary. Her breathing became more shallow and she yanked the curtains shut, turning back around to face the way Eddie had gone.
Okay, that was it. Proper etiquette be damned, she was going in that room. She’d already lied to Jason about where she was going to be tonight, and her parents were probably starting to worry, too. She was going to get the Special K and have Eddie take her back home, simple as that.
“Eddie?” she called out. “Did you find it?”
The eeriest of silences answered her back. There’s no way he hadn’t heard her, right? “Eddie?”
When nothing was said, Chrissy forced herself to move. The chiming was becoming increasingly loud, kicking up her heart rate a notch or two. It was just another chapter in this weird, two week series of episodes she was having. The hallucinations, the headaches, the nightmares…she couldn’t take it anymore.
Somehow, the hallway seemed longer than she originally anticipated. Chrissy called out his name again, trotting hurriedly until she reached the open door, stepping into…
Her house?
There, plain as day, sat her mother. The sewing machine whirred rhythmically, the hem of one of Chrissy’s dresses being fed through and stitched. Chrissy couldn’t make sense of anything right now, and as much as her mother’s presence usually brought her anxiety, it was the only familiarity she could cling to. “Mom?”
“Just loosening this up for you, sweetheart!” Mrs. Cunningham replied cheerily. Although it didn’t exactly sound like her. Chrissy's stomach clenched. “You’re going to look absolutely beautiful.”
Mrs. Cunningham turned her head, and Chrissy gasped in horror at the monster that stared back at her. She quickly slammed the door shut, heart racing, hoping that this hallucination would end immediately.
But it didn’t. The door was pulled back open and she screamed as a deep, guttural voice bellowed her name. Chrissy ran down the stairs, panic stricken as she searched for a way out that she wasn’t even sure existed.
After what seemed like forever, Eddie found the little metal container where he kept the Special K. “Gotcha.”
He didn’t want to increase Chrissy's anxiousness anymore, so Eddie sprang up and headed back out into the main area. His grin was triumphant as she came into view. “Found it! Peaceful bliss, just moments away…”
Eddie stopped in his tracks. Chrissy still stood in the middle of the room…but she wasn’t moving. It was like someone had glued her feet to the floor. “...Chrissy?”
Not a sound. He edged closer, waving his hand in the hopes that maybe she was zoned out. Like, really zoned out. Her name fell from his lips again, with the same result.
Eddie wasn’t the type of guy to panic right away. Maybe this was her idea of a joke? Yeah, sure. So he’d spook her, then. He leapt forward, his voice a little louder: “Chrissy!”
The closer he got to her, the easier it was to realize she was in some sort of trance. Fear rolled waves in his stomach. “Hey, Chrissy, wake up! Hello?”
He snapped his fingers, waved his hand, kept saying her name, but to no avail. On his third hey, Chrissy, the lights started to flicker and buzz. What the hell was this? Had he done acid and not realized it?
This wasn’t good. This wasn’t good at all.
Every time she blinked, Chrissy saw the mutilated versions of her parents. Then, the chandelier in the living room started to flicker and hum. No, it was all the lights in the house.
The clock chiming had somewhat dimmed, but in its place was something even more horrifying—a tall, slimy creature descending the stairs. She could see its bony fingers through the slats in the railing. And somehow, she’d seen this thing before. Or felt it. And she knew at that moment it was going to take her life.
“Chrissy… ”
She ran as fast as her legs could carry her. Coming to stop at the dining room was another terror. The table was set, a full meal from the start to the end—complete with black widow spiders crawling everywhere and flies buzzing. A steak knife glistened near one of the plates, catching her eye. Chrissy barely had time to grab it before the creature said her name again, and she took off.
Somewhere, somehow, like a barely there whisper, she could hear Eddie calling her name.
Eddie had seen many horror films in his lifetime, but none of them had scared him quite like the sight of Chrissy Cunningham levitating in his living room.
He stumbled backwards and hit the floor, eyes wide. He didn’t know what to do. Nothing he’d tried had snapped her out of it. His eyes roamed about the room, searching for something, anything…
Wait. The tape deck was open.
With his eyes still on Chrissy, Eddie scrambled to his feet and bolted over to the table. Maybe if he played some music? It would have to be loud enough to get past whatever block in her mind that was preventing her from hearing him.
A long shot, sure, but desperate times, desperate measures or whatever the hell the saying was.
He reached for the bin to pull out his favorite, Master of Puppets—then paused. On top of the tape deck was the ABBA cassette. She’d said it was her favorite…he figured so long as it was at a good volume, maybe the genre didn’t matter so much.
The police citation for disturbing the peace better be worth it.
Eddie shoved the tape in, closed the drawer, and pushed rewind. It took a few seconds before it clicked. He reached for the volume knob and cranked it up as far as it would go.
The guitar and synth filled the air around them just as Chrissy’s body hit the ceiling. Eddie screamed, holding onto the corner of the table for dear life, hoping this crazy idea would work.
Chrissy had come to a dead end. The front door of the house was covered in thick, wooden slats. She banged as hard as she could with her hands, lowering her shoulder into it, screaming for help. But it was too late. The creature had taken its time, but they were now face to face, and all she could do was stare up in fear at it while sobbing uncontrollably.
She wasn’t ready to die. Not like this.
A long, bony finger touched her cheek to wipe a tear, and she recoiled. “Don’t cry, Chrissy…” Its hand edged closer to her face. “It’s time...for your suffering…to end.”
Chrissy closed her eyes and prayed death would be quick and painless. That she wouldn’t feel a thing. That—
Wait.
Was that a guitar riff she just heard?
Half-past twelve
And I'm watching the late show in my flat all alone
How I hate to spend the evening on my own…
It was faint, but it was there. Her song. Was Eddie playing it?
Had she died already, and ABBA was the soundtrack to the afterlife?
The creature’s claw steadied toward her face, but Chrissy could tell that it heard the song too. Something had shifted in its eyes.
Autumn winds
Blowing outside the window as I look around the room
The knife. She still had the knife. Somehow she’d managed to slip it into the pocket of her sweater. There was no time to think, just act.
And it makes me so depressed to see the gloom…
Chrissy grabbed the knife and in one swift motion, jutted it upward towards the creature’s neck. It growled in pain, retracting its hand immediately. “Go to hell, creep!”
And then she ducked under one of his tentacles and started to run. Her heart hammered in her chest, unsure of where to go. She paused for a second and listened; the music was beginning to get louder, and it was coming from upstairs. That was her target.
“Eddie!” She shouted as the wet squelching of the creature's gait crept closer and closer, in hot pursuit. “Eddie, help! Help, please!”
There's not a soul out there
No one to hear my prayer…
On the other side, the trailer walls shook as the music pulsated. Eddie had seen one of Chrissy’s arms start to bend in the opposite direction, bones cracking.
Then suddenly, the movement stopped. She was still on the ceiling, but her mouth now hung open, voice raspy as though trying to speak, but being unable to.
Eddie stood and got up right under her, trembling almost violently. “Chrissy! Can you hear me? I’m right here! Wake up, c’mon!”
Chrissy could hear Eddie’s voice as she took the stairs two at a time. He sounded close, yet far away at the same time. She practically broke the door to her room down. The lights were on, and everything seemed to be the way she’d left it that morning—except for the gaping, otherworldly hole in the wall staring back at her. She squinted, trying to see clearer…
It was her. In Eddie’s trailer. She saw him standing under her, head tilted towards the ceiling as he screamed her name.
Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight
Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away?
The creature suddenly appeared in the doorway. Chrissy screamed. “Chrissy…don’t try to fight it…”
Chest heaving, Chrissy bolted forward, stepping on or over a number of insignificant things as she got closer to the portal. This was her only chance at survival, she knew, and there was no time left to consider doing anything else.
A slimy tentacle grazed her ankle as she launched herself forward, like she’d done so many times during the squad’s cheer routines. Her vision went black, and then…
Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight
Take me through the darkness to the break of the day
A loud gasp ripped from Chrissy’s throat as she opened her eyes. Then she started to fall, her descent braced by the strong arms of Eddie Munson.
The music was still blaring, but Eddie didn’t care as he and Chrissy hit the ground in a heap. She gasped for air, sobbing, face filled with terror as she came to her senses. “Oh God, oh God, Eddie, h-help me, please…”
“Chrissy, I’m here. You’re okay. You’re safe,” Eddie gathered her in his arms, gripping onto her for dear life as she clung to him, afraid of anything else happening to her if he let go. “I got you, I promise. I promise you’re safe.”
She pulled back to look at him, as though making sure he was real, barely able to form words. “I t-thought I was gonna die. But t-then I heard you, I heard the song. I don’t know…”
His large hands cupped her cheeks, holding her face gently. “Look at me, Chris. Breathe, okay? Just breathe. You’re still here. Everything’s gonna be okay.” He wiped the wetness from her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, wishing he could take the pain away.
A fresh wave of tears burst through and she buried her face in his neck, her fingers gripping the fabric of his Hellfire shirt. He rubbed her back soothingly, whispering you’re okay or I’m here every so often, chin resting atop the crown of her head.
He didn’t know what the hell just happened. Or why. Of the two things he knew for sure: the police would probably be paying him a visit soon.
And the second?
Eddie had never been more grateful that a Swedish pop band named ABBA existed than he was right now.