Chapter 1 - Autumn of 2017A Chapter by LH Weiss I know it’s kind of a short one. The later chapters I’ve written are a bit longer. The sun had set a brief moment ago, and the evening was cooling off rapidly. The neighborhood was eerily empty. Marco had yet to cross paths with a single person on his nighttime stroll. He wandered past cookie cutter homes and vacant public parks inhabited by hostile geese. The air was filled with the ever present hum of a not-so-distant highway, dogs bickering, and a chilling wind that brushed through the only trees around, in any given direction. Marco wasn’t yet accustomed to life in such a small town. He took one final sip from his cigarette, and disposed of it in a nearby bin. Marco wasn’t proud of being a smoker, but with nobody else around, who was there to shame him? He rounded a corner, and his house came into view: a cheap duplex across the street from a cemetery. Marco fumbled around his pockets in search of his keys as he tried not to trip over the old, wonky sidewalk. Streetlights were basically imaginary on this side of town. There was but one on his road, and flickered on and off sporadically. Marco’s front door was tricky at best. There was a very specific way that the key had to be inserted, turned, and rattled to unlock it, so the poor man usually spent quite some time just trying to enter his home. The streetlight made a strange lurching sound, and decided to lend a bit of light. Marco noticed the figure of a young adult leaning against the pole. They exchanged friendly greetings. ”Got it to work?” Marco jokingly hollered to the distant man. “You know how it is,” The guy called back. “On again, gone again. This city has a mind of its own.” There was something just a little off putting about his voice, something Marco couldn’t place a finger on. It had something of an airy reverberance. It was also evident that the speaker was trying hard to make his voice sound deep and full. ”That it does,” Marco replied. “I’ve never seen you around. How long have you been living here?” ”You have no idea, buster.” “Ah, yeah, I get it.” Marco took a nervous step back, while the figure took a relaxed stride forward and leaned against the first step’s railing. “Are we gonna have an issue, buddy?” He asked with a smirk. “I don’t know who you are or why you just walked right up.” “You look a little scared right now, you know that? Maybe as if you’ve… seen a ghost.” The young man gestured to his long, thin body with a rather smug demeanor. He was dressed in a far oversized leather jacket, joggers, and a beanie to cover up his dark and greasy hair. Marco pinched his brow. “So it’s you who’s been tampering with my appliances.” ”Oh that was Margaret from down the street no duh it’s been me. Let a kid have a bit of fun.” ”You look a little older than what I would consider a kid.” ”You are not phased at all, huh. Where is your sense of horror?” ”That’s what I get for living across from a graveyard.” ”Can you please be just a little scared?” ”What?” Marco asked with some disbelief that this was a conversation he was having. ”It’s no fun once the allusion has faded. Come onnn, be a little freaked out.” ”Um, no thanks. Please leave me alone.” Marco rattled his doorknob with vacant hopes that it had become free by work of holy intervention. ”Hold up just a minute, mr. dude. I have a deal to propose.” ”Pardon?” ”Yeah, you could say I’m something of a businessman, and I can foresee a compromise between us. Symbiosis, if you will. Just hear me out on this one.” “I’m not sure I would like to.” “Cool. Now I’ve noticed that you’re a pretty awkward guy. You trip over your words constantly, you never know what to say,” Marco crossed his arms and leaned on a hip. “Thanks.” “No problemo, sugar boy. I’m just sayin, I can fix that. What you could use is somebody to tell you what to do and how to act. I can be that guy.” ”I’m not sure I want that to happen.” ”Sure you do. It wouldn’t cost you much anyway. Think about it, buddy. You get a constant personal advisor, and let me assure you that I give outstanding advice,” ”And you get?” ”Oh, yeah. I don’t ask for much. Just a simple request.” “The suspense is killing me,” Marco mumbled. ”Your kitchen sink.” “What do you mean you want my kitchen sink?” ”I just need access to it, silly-o.” “…Ok?” ”Great! Pleasure making business with you.” “Oh, no no no, I wasn’t agreeing.” ”Sure you were. You said “ok”. See ya ‘round, pal.” With that introduction, he vanished into the rapidly darkening night. ”Nope. You get your ghastly a*s back on this lawn.” Marco pointed to the grass, and the ghoul reappeared, sporting a slouched and careless posture. “I don’t even know your name,” said Marco. ”Right, of course. I’m Hudson. Don’t bother introducing yourself, I already know everything.” ”What do you mean you know everything?” “You’re the Marco Rodriguez. Big city boy moves to Logtown Wisconsin. You went to college for music theory and stuff, for some reason. Oh, and you’re jobless. See, but that’s where I can help. You’ll become the smoothest talker west of the Pacific. This is why you need me.” ”Yeah, ok,” Marco shrugged. “I can’t tell if you’re still being sarcastic or if this is actually working.” “What is there to lose?” ”Yes, that’s the spirit! Believe me, you will not regret this, pumpkin pie. We just gotta shake on it, and the deal is sealed.” Marco hesitated. He glances at Hudson’s grey, boney, almost translucent hand. He looked back at his own. The grip of Hudson’s fingers around his palm was tight, jittery, and just a little bit wet. ”I did notice that you were having trouble with that doorknob, no? I could get it for you. Like, from the other side.” Before Marco could ask how he was going to do that, Hudson’s allusion faded like fog. There was a strong whip of wind, and a click from inside the door. At the turn of a handle, it brushed open. “Not gonna lie, that’s a pretty neat party trick,” Marco said. There was no response. “Weird.” he thought to himself. By now, the house was mostly moved into, aside from a couple of boxes of stuff that Marco didn’t feel like approaching. Lycoel spray, a bottle of aspirin older than he was, and maybe some ikea decorations as a gift from his mother. Marco felt no need to make his home look pretty. What was the point of something beyond it’s function? His bed was slept in, and his clock told time. He had always thrived most under strict routine. Marco slipped out of his flannel and placed it on the hook near the door. In the mirror, he readjusted his thin, rectangular glasses to a comfortable spot on his bumped nose. Marco’s tossed around his brown wavy hair. He liked to keep it short and neat, but was prone to growing fast. He would have to visit the barber soon. The thing about a place like Logtown was that there usually wasn’t more than one of any given establishment. One bakery, one nursing home, one astrological crystal shop. Marco had been eyeing an opening at the local radio company, and had an interview scheduled with the manager. If Hudson was as good as he claimed, that would be no issue. He better be good, because Marco really needed a job. © 2025 LH WeissFeatured Review
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