Issue XXII
Concerning finding eyes in places they shouldn't be, The October Country, & stompin' that devil beat down in Zombieland...
From the Desk of William Pauley III
I took this picture with my cell phone the morning after the last newsletter went live. I know, I know… it’s gross… and what I’m about to say will only make it even more gross.
Today’s newsletter will be a doozy.
I woke up that morning, same as I always do, except when I brushed the hair out of my face and yawned, my fingers ran over a rough patch on my scalp. It was only about an inch or so wide then, and at first I only felt what I thought were “prickly hairs.”
Then I took the photo to get a better look and it became obvious right away what was happening to me: I was turning into a spider. Not a full-on spider, but some human-spider hybrid, and unlike anything you’d see in a glitzy Marvel film. Instead of swinging majestically from building to building, with a perfectly-toned body, fighting crime and cleaning up the streets, I was perched in the back of some Uhaul trailer, in total darkness, my disgusting, frumpy body constructing an intricate web to trap my next meal. It wasn’t a pretty sight, let me tell you.
But I’m getting ahead of myself.
The picture revealed something I could not at first detect with my fingers alone—an eyeball, right in the center of my scalp. I wasn’t able to detect it because as my fingers ran over it, it’d clamp shut, burying itself beneath a thin sheath of skin. It just felt like a soft spot in my skull and I didn’t think much of it at the time. Instead, it was the course hairs that had me more concerned. It wasn’t normal, I recognized at once, but I still wasn’t convinced it was anything too serious until I took the pic. I now know those so-called ‘course hairs’ were no hairs at all, but twitchy little legs, and in a place where no twitchy little legs had any business being!
If you want to take a moment to purge your breakfast from your stomach, feel free to do that now. No worries. When I first saw the eyeball staring back at me from my cell phone screen, I felt the same way you do now, I nearly vomited right then and there.
You know, I almost didn’t share the photo with you today due to the sheer grotesqueness of it, but then I really thought about you—my subscribers—and the kinds of things you obviously enjoy. You’re not here because you’re sensitive to grotesque material, no way. I don’t believe it for a second. If you’ve read any of my books, then the picture above is just a drop in the bucket. I’d imagine most of you expect to be grossed out by now. When this newsletter hits your inbox every week, I’d be surprised if there’s anyone who clicks it without at first thinking, “Let’s see what that weirdo has to say now…”
It’s okay. I get it. I don’t know where this stuff comes from. All I know is if I don’t get it out of my head, then it builds up and things get real weird. TOO WEIRD. Trust me, it’s better to give it to you in tiny spurts.
Now… with that said, I suppose I should tell you what I did next, after I constructed my woolly web in the back of that dark trailer.
Buzz and Romita… you remember them right? Yup, exactly—the Martians who held me hostage in order to get a spike in their social media views—well, now they’re just a couple of withered prunes hanging in my little nest here. I’ve been suckling the blood from their bodies for every meal for the last few days. There’s still a little left in Romita, but Buzz is totally wasted.
Don’t make me feel bad about it either! In a way it was self-defense. I was their prisoner! I admit it was a little messed up that I pounced on them just as they were opening up the hatch to give me my morning coffee (and man, was that coffee tasty—never did find out where they got it from), but still, they weren’t saints themselves. They had bad intentions with me, clearly. Who knows how far they would’ve taken it, too! They seemed like they’d do anything for a little attention.
Which reminds me: I did take a picture of their shriveled bodies dangling inside my web and post it to their social media accounts. I didn’t do it maliciously, as a way to get back at them for exploiting me or anything like that, but I can certainly see how you might think that now. Hindsight is always 20/20, as they say. The real reason I posted the pic was to give their followers a sense of closure. Instead of millions of Martians wondering where their beloved content creators have gone and why they’re no longer posting entertaining photos and videos, they now have an answer.
The irony of it all, I suppose, is that the picture I posted was by far the most popular thing they’ve ever posted. It went viral immediately, and that was days ago. It’s still getting a record amount of views as I type this. It’s unreal. Their phones are constantly lighting up with new notifications.
Buzz and Romita would’ve been proud. And, hey… they went out on top. I think this is what they would’ve wanted. That’s what I choose to believe anyway.
Well, I really should be on my way. Sorry to run, but I need to look for a new place to build my next web. I don’t suspect I’ll be luring many more Martians into the back of this ratty old trailer any time soon. I have some thinking to do.
Hope you enjoy this week’s newsletter!
Albatross Soup
a short film by Winnie Cheung
Last Week / This Week
Yesterday, “Choose-Your-Own-Mindfuck: A Night in the Eighth Block Tower” went live! This interactive adventure allows the unique opportunity to explore one of the weirdest, most disturbing (sentient?) buildings in all of fiction, but be careful not to become a permanent resident in the process! See how it all works here, then start reading! Don’t forget to vote!
ALL SUBSCRIBERS: On this coming week’s episode of Storytime!, Connor Brannigan will be reading an excerpt from The Ballad of Old Joe Booth. It’s weird and creepy and all the things you could possibly hope for in a Doom Fiction tale. Be sure to check out “Summer” when it drops on Monday!
PAID SUBSCRIBERS: Last week, you read the final story of Twelve Residents Dreaming (The Bedlam Bible #7)! The book won’t be released until October 2023, but if you want instant access to these stories and more, you can upgrade to a paid membership now.
Also, there will be a NEW MOON SALE (a DOOM FICTION first!) on Thursday September 14th! This sale will be for paid subscribers only, who will all be given a secret code to get books in the Doom Fiction store for half price AS WELL AS a special gift! The code (& more details) will be sent out on Thursday morning.
VIP SUBSCRIBERS: I posted the final “Plotting: A Night in Eighth Block Tower” article, complete with scans from my notebook. My hope is that these posts will help you see the transition between how a story goes from an idea, to a structured story, and finally to a finished story. I still have a long way to go with this one, but I’m really looking forward to writing it! It’s the most fun I’ve had working on a project all year. Wish me luck! Want to see how stories are written? Become a VIP subscriber today.
Oddities Theater
Scanner Cop is a 1994 Canadian science fiction action horror film. It is the fourth film in the Scanners series and the first film in the Scanner Cop series. It was written, produced, and directed by Pierre David. Daniel Quinn stars as the title character, a police officer with psychic powers. (Wikipedia)
Synopsis: Sam Staziak, a rookie cop with the Los Angeles Police Department, is also a 'scanner' (psionic). When a string of murders begins to decimate the police department, Sam faces sensory overload and possible insanity as he uses his powers to hunt the man responsible for the killings. (IMDB)
The October Country, Pt. 1
A couple weeks ago, I mentioned Ray Bradbury’s influence on the way I structured my latest short story collection, Twelve Residents Dreaming, and it had me wanting to talk more about some of my favorite stories of his.
While there are literally dozens of his stories that I think are absolutely perfect and amazing, I figured I’d limit myself to only my favorites in a specific collection of his: The October Country.
I settled on my top 5. I’ll write about the first of these stories today and the others I’ll save for later. I’ll sprinkle them into these newsletters between now and Halloween—it’s what Ray would’ve preferred.
I discovered Bradbury when I was very young, somewhere around nine or ten years old. I can’t adequately put into words just how his stories made me feel… it was as if my brain was boiling. His words opened doors inside my mind, and not just opened them, they blew the damn things down, launching me into these strange, wonderful worlds he so meticulously created.
Keep reading with a 7-day free trial
Subscribe to DOOM FICTION to keep reading this post and get 7 days of free access to the full post archives.