Hi

“Hi.”

Brandon jerked upright in bed. “Who, who’s there?”

“You may call me…Um, let’s see… Ed will do. Um, well, seeing everyone already calls me Ed.”

“Where are you?” He scanned the room, heart pounding. “I can’t see you…”

He swallowed hard. “You’re not real, just a hallucination. I drank too much; that’s it. Yeah… that’s it. I’m hungover.”

“No,” Ed said. “I’m very real, I assure you.”

Brandon jolted out of bed, flipped on the lights, and grabbed the bat beside the door. “Then where the fuck are you?”

“Next to you.”

He jumped back and swung at nothing; the bat slicing through empty air.

Then silence.

“Good thing I was lying, huh?” Ed’s voice carried a faint amusement. “A bit on edge?”

Brandon didn’t answer. He stood there, chest heaving, gripping the bat with both hands, his knuckles bone-white.

“I can see you’re a bit tense,” Ed continued. “Tell you what… we’ll catch up tomorrow. Try to get some rest. Going to need it.”

The lights flickered and died.

“Hey, man, you look like shit. Rough night?”

Brandon looked up from his desk. “Tim… you have no fucking idea.”

“That bad?”

“Dude, no more Jägermeister, ever. That shit messes with you.” He rubbed his face. “What’s up?”

“Oh, yeah, I wanted to introduce you to our new employee. Maybe you can show her around.”

A tall, slender woman stepped out from behind Tim. Her deep-red hair was pulled into a neat bun. Cat-eared glasses framed her eyes, which looked more crimson than hazel, bright and piercing.

“Hi, I’m Ethel… Ethel Castle. But you can call me Ed. Everyone does. Nice to meet you.” She held out her hand.

The color drained from Brandon’s face. His breath hitched at the sound of her voice. His hand trembled as he took hers.

Her grip was tight. Unforgiving, she held it just a second longer than necessary, smiling before letting go.

“Nice… nice to, um, meet you,” he stammered

“Pleasure’s mine, Pleasure’s all mine,” Ed said, perching on the edge of his desk. “Say, how about you meet me at the café for lunch?”

“Um, sorry…s-sorry, but I, uh… I already have a plans. I mean… I have plans.”

Ed leaned in, her voice dropped. “Now we both know that’s a lie.”

Brandon shrank into his seat.

She straightened, all brightness again. “So… see you at noon.”

She turned to Tim. “Tim.” She gave his shoulder a light pat. “It was nice knowing ya.”

“Huh?”

“Oh nothing. See you boys later.”

Tim watched her go, frowning. “Do you know her?”

“Ah… ah, no,” Brandon stammered.

“Well, she sure as shit seems to know you.”

“Yeah… strange,” Brandon said, his voice unsteady.

“Shit, man, I haven’t seen you this rattled since that night.”

Brandon’s jaw clenched. “What did I say?”

“Huh?”

“What did I say about that night?”

“Not to talk about it, but…”

“Then don’t.” His voice snapped, sharp and immediate.

“I was just saying…”

“Stop.” Brandon’s eyes hardened. “Drop it. Understand?”

Tim blinked, hands going up as he took a step back. “Okay, okay. Shit, man…got it.”

Brandon exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair. “Sorry, man. Slept like shit last night. Just tired, that’s all. Hey, Crow Bar after work?”

Tim hesitated, then nodded. “Sure thing, man. No offense taken.”

Brandon sat at his desk, staring at his screen without seeing it. The clock ticked. The minutes dragged.

The clock finally struck noon.

He didn’t move. He just stared at the clock, watching the minute hand circle again and again.

I’m not going to meet her.

Fuck that.

Tim walked by, glancing at his watch. “Not seeing Ed?”

“Nah. Too much work,” Brandon said, not looking up from his screen. “She’ll understand.”

“Uh… yeah. Okay, man.” Tim shrugged. “If you say so.”

The rest of the day seemed to stretch into a week before five o’clock arrived. Brandon’s shoulders finally loosened. He gathered his things in a hurry and headed for the door. “Crow Bar, man,” he called as he passed Tim’s desk.

Tim gave him a thumbs-up. “See you in a few, bro.”

Brandon sat at the bar, his beer already half gone, the tension still clinging to him.

He checked his watch… then glanced at the door.

Really, man? I know you didn’t have that much work.

You better not be out in the parking lot getting baked.

He looked at the door again… The bartender set a shot of Jägermeister in front of him.

Brandon frowned. “What’s this?”

“Jäger.”

“I didn’t order this.”

“Oh, yeah, it’s from the redhead at the end of the bar.”

His fingers tightened around the beer.

A cold knot twisted in his stomach. He turned.

Ed sat at the far end of the bar, smiling and giving him a small, playful wave. Like they were already friends. Then she stood and started toward him, unhurried. She pulled up a stool and sat beside him. “Missed you at lunch.”

“Um, yeah. Had a lot of work. Sorry about that.” He didn’t turn to face her. His grip tightened around his beer as he stared straight ahead, studying the rows of liquor behind the bar, his jaw clenched.

“I understand. It’s no biggie.” She lifted her shot. “Cheers.”

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Um… cheers.” He hesitated, then forced himself to face her.

“To new friends…” she said, her eyes locked on his, “and to those we’ve lost or about to lose.”

“Oh, yeah. Um… to new friends and those we’ve lost. Sure.” His gaze flicked toward the door.

She downed her shot. “Looking for your friend Tim?” she asked, glancing at the door as well. “He’s not going to make it.” A faint smile crossed her lips. “Sadly.”

Brandon snapped toward her. “What do you mean…sadly?”

Ed drew in a slow breath, then let it out, her shoulders dropping. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news… but Tim is dead.”

He stumbled back off his stool. “What…what? I… I just saw him.”

Ed caught him, guiding him back onto the stool. She snapped her fingers. “Hey, can we get some water over here?”

Brandon sat there, hyperventilating.

“Hey, hey…look at me.” Ed cupped his face, forcing his gaze to hers. “I need you to take slow, deep breaths. With me, okay?” She inhaled. Exhaled. Again.

Brandon struggled,then matched her.

“Good. That’s it. Stay with me.”

He managed a small nod. “What… what happened?”

Ed sighed. “It was tragic. He was hit by a truck. Nearly cut in half.”

“What?… What?”

“Hey…breathe,” Ed said. “Stay with me.”

Brandon’s breathing slowed.

“Better?”

He nodded.

Ed’s expression shifted, something colder beneath the surface.

“You know… he didn’t die right away. He begged and begged for his mommy. Mommy, mommy!” A faint smile touched her lips. “That must have been terrifying… don’t you think?”

Brandon slipped off the stool again, only for Ed to catch him once more.

“Whoa, whoa, mister, I know this is a lot,” she said, her voice gentle and comforting. “But bear with me, okay?”

He stared at her, unable to breathe, the world around him dimming, cold and distant.

A driving guitar riff exploded from the jukebox.

The beat pulsed through the bar.

“Oh, man… fucking love The Velveteers.” She smiled, swaying to the rhythm.

“You can get what you want…” she sang.

Her eyes lifted to Brandon.

“You can have what you want…”

She pointed at him.

“Ooh…”

“Ooh…”

Her head tilted.

“Ooh…”

She smiled.

“A death hex on you.”

She grabbed him by the collar and yanked him close.

“Did you really think that night wouldn’t go unpunished?” she whispered in his ear.

She pulled back, meeting his eyes, smiling, then winked. “Caroline sends her regards.”

He shoved her away.

She slammed into the bar and laughed.

He ran and burst through the door, fumbling for his keys as he sprinted to his car. He didn’t bother closing the door, just threw it into drive and sped out of the parking lot.

Ed strolled out of the bar, hands in her pockets, still bobbing her head to the music.

His hands tightened around the steering wheel as he swerved toward her.

She didn’t move.

He slammed into her. His hood buckled as her body rolled across it. She smashed into the windshield. Cracks exploded from the point of impact, then over the roof she went before crashing onto the pavement.

He slammed on the brakes and stared into the rearview mirror.

His breathing came fast and uneven.

She didn’t move.

Smiling, as he threw the car into reverse and hit the gas.

Thump. thump.

The car jolted as the tires rolled over her.

He stopped and slammed into drive, hit the gas again. Another sickening jolt, before sped into the street, tires screeching as he skidded to a stop at the light.His heart pounded.

He let out a shaky breath.

Fuck… my car!

He grabbed his phone and dialed Henry.

“Hey, my dude. What up?”

“Dude, dude, I need to stash my car. I’m a block away.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, man. What?”

Brandon let out a nervous laugh. “Yeah, man… I ran over a bitch. Like three times. And she fucked up my car.”

“Ha, how rude,” Henry said, amused. “Okay, man… why?”

Brandon’s voice shook. “That, that bitch killed Tim.”

“Fucking what?” Henry’s voice cracked.

“Yeah, man. I think she hit him with a truck or something.”

“That bitch… yeah, yeah, man, get your ass over here. ASAP.”

“Hey, call Joe. He needs to know. I just turned onto your street, open the garage.”

“On it, man.”

He pulled into Henry’s garage and sank into the seat, letting out a long, shaky sigh.

His phone rang.

He flinched. The name Joe lit up the caller ID.

“Hey, man… I’m so sorry about Tim. But I got the bitch.” Brandon’s voice was low, somber.

For a moment, nothing.

Then Crunch. Crunch. Loud chewing filled the line.

“Hey.”

Brandon went numb at the sound of Ed’s voice.

“Oh, I bet you want to talk to your friend. Hold on.”

Rustling. Then gasping. A wet, ragged wheeze.

“I don’t think he has much longer,” Ed said. “So say what you need to.”

“J—J—Joe?” he stammered.

“Aw, shit… wasn’t quick enough.” Ed’s voice brightened. “Do you want to know how he died?”

Brandon hung up. His breathing spiraled, pulse hammering. Then his phone started dinging. Again and again,messages from Joe.

His hands shook as he opened the first one. His stomach knotted. It was impossible for him to hold it down. He vomited all over himself as the images kept coming. He crawled out of the car, still retching, then staggered to his feet and sprinted for the door and burst into the house.

“Holy shit, man, what’s wrong?” Henry asked, taken aback by his appearance.

“Joseph… Joseph is dead.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Henry shook his head. “No. No, he’s not.”

“She killed him. She fucking killed him!”

“Who? Who killed him?!”

“That bitch I ran over. Grab your shotgun. And your AR.”

“What?”

“Grab them, now!” Brandon yelled, his voice breaking with panic.

Henry bolted up the stairs. A moment later, he came storming back down and tossed him the shotgun.

“It’s already loaded,” Henry said, breath tight.

The doorbell rang.

They both jerked.

A light knock followed.

“Hello? I know you’re home… hello.”

The voice cut straight through Brandon.

“That, that’s her.”

He leveled the shotgun at the door and pulled the trigger. The blast was deafening. Their ears rang. The shot tore through the door and caught her square in the chest. It blew her off the porch and into the yard.

Brandon inched toward the front door. Slowly… cautiously… he opened it.His shoulders relaxed as he let out a long breath. Ed’s body lay sprawled across the yard.

“Hey, man… looks like I got the bitch square in the chest.” He turned. “Henry?” Henry was no longer there. Brandon’s breath hitched, his mouth went dry.

A whimper escaped him, his voice climbing. “No… no… no…come on, man. This isn’t fucking funny.” He looked back out into the yard. Ed was gone. He couldn’t move. His arms and legs refused to obey. The floor creaked upstairs, steps slow and deliberate. His breath turned rapid and shallow. The footsteps stopped at the top of the stairs. He forced himself to turn, to look.

Something tumbled down the steps, pieces of Henry. A sob tore from his throat. His bladder and bowels gave out. His stomach twisted, dry heaving, choking on it.He staggered back and bumped into something. He froze.

“Boo.” Her voice was warm. Playful. “You won’t be needing this,” she said, reaching around him and slipping the shotgun from his hands.

She stepped in front of him, smiling. “Now sit.” She shoved him down onto the couch. Then she dragged a chair across the floor and set it in front of him, sitting with relaxed ease.

“Man, what a day.” She exhaled, almost content. “I just want to thank you, boys. I haven’t had this much fun in, what, like a hundred years or something?” she tilted her head. “How ya doing?”

Brandon just sat there, trembling.

“Got it. Cat got your tongue.” She smiled. “I really don’t understand why. I mean… that night, you boys were so sure of yourselves. The way you toyed with Caroline, how you gloated over her body, so cruel.” She sighed. “To be honest, I was kind of hoping to meet that Brandon today. You know what I mean… know what I mean?” She winked, letting out a soft chuckle. “But then again, I got the violent you, just not the cocky, cruel you.” She sighed. “Disappointing.” A small wave of her hand. “Oh, by the way, Caroline sends her regards. Wait… I think I already told you that.” Another dismissive flick of her hand. “My bad. Am I boring you?”

Brandon said nothing. His teeth chattered.

“I see… not a talker. More the listening type, right?”

“Wh, wh… who are you?” he finally managed, his voice barely a whisper.

Ed leaned back. “Huh.” She considered him for a moment, then leaned in.

“An angel to some.”

She stood and raised her hands above her head in a long stretch before reaching behind her, drawing out a long, elegant dagger, its hilt ivory and gold, its blade a deep crimson.

“But a demon to others.” She smiled. “Now, my friend… shall we begin?”