#Cujo remembering the times he used to be locked in a cage | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bubblegumbeech · 3 years

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Haunted Towers and Hidden Truths

Phic Phight prompt by @lexiepiper

Write a more traditional ghost story. How would things change if ghost powers weren’t super powers, but closer to old horror movie tropes?

“We shouldn’t do this Danny,” Sam said, ever the voice of reason. “This place isn’t like our usual haunts.“

But Danny shook his head, “No Sam, I have to do this. I have to know what that dream meant, if it was really a dream or something else.”

He moved to take a step forward when his other friend, Tucker, grabbed his arm, “I don’t know man, I think she’s right. There isn’t a possessed item to destroy, or an overactive ghost to try and calm down, heck even Vlad has a weakness we can exploit, we don’t know anything about this place. What if we don’t make it out of this one?”

“Come on Tucker,” Danny argued, his own confidence nothing but a mask, “It can’t be as bad as the haunted video game right? You die in the game you die in real life!”

Tucker didn’t laugh, “this is serious Danny, I know that dream had you messed up, but what if it was just that? A dream?”

“Or,” Sam cut in, “What if it’s a trap? Remember how Desiree tried to get us with that monkey’s paw when she realized we were getting involved with every scary story and urban legend in town and she didn’t want us to find out about her?”

There was also the time a ghost discovered Danny’s secret and decided to haunt him personally and make his life a living hell until he and Tucker were able to exorcise it. It had involved a gorilla, a lot of research into dead safari hunters, and one of his parent’s inventions that they rigged to do what they needed before destroying it so it couldn’t be used against Danny himself.

“We made it through all of those things together, remember when we first saw Cujo? And we thought he was to blame for Valerie’s mother?” Danny said.

Sam deflated, “and then we did research and discovered that Cu Sith only foretell death, not cause it… But Danny, we tried to research this place, remember? We found nothing. It’s like it doesn’t exist.”

“Yeah man,” Tucker scratched the back of his neck uncertain, “I couldn’t find so much as a blueprint. No building plans, nothing. The only thing we have to go on are stories from reckless kids trying and failing to spend the night.”

“You don’t have to follow me, the last thing I want is to put you both at risk. Especially after last time.”

Tucker groaned, “Danny you know we aren’t going to let you do this alone right? Especially not after Walker’s prison. Who knows what would have happened if we didn’t come in and save you?”

Danny smiled, “I probably would have starved to death to be fair, but yeah, I’ll try to avoid getting locked in any metal cages, deal?”

“To be fair,” Sam said, returning his smile with one of her own, strained though it was, “you probably would have died of thirst first.”

Chuckling at his friends' attempts to lighten the mood once they realized his mind wouldn’t be changed, Danny finally let himself look up at the place in question. It was a tall, crooked looking clocktower with old, brittle wood and peeling paint. In the low light of the evening it looked almost purple and with the dust and cobwebs covering it, it was clear no one had been inside for quite some time.

The Clocktower was a recurrent presence in his dreams, the ones he’d started having since the accident that made him the way he was: different from any person, but not quite anything else. It was always there in the background, but he’d never gone inside.

Once, during a particularly dull recurring dream where he relived the life and consequent death of a warehouse worker, he’d walked away from the endless piles of boxes and tried to go inside the clocktower instead. But no matter how far he traveled, it was always the same distance away. He just couldn’t get to it.

Danny couldn’t shake the feeling though, that something inside might have the answers he’s been searching for. So he stepped forward, and knocked on the door.

There was no answer, of course, and Danny almost felt foolish doing it, but also, ghosts and spiritual beings all had their own rules and perceptions of what is or isn’t polite, most of which Danny had stumbled into learning the hard way, and it really didn’t hurt to check.

“No answer,” Sam said and Danny nodded, turning the handle. It was old and brass and when it turned it made a loud grinding noise that vibrated along his arm. But it did open, and without Danny needing to persuade it, so that had to be a good sign right?

Unless it really was a trap.

“Maybe we should leave someone outside, in case it really is like Walker’s prison.” He offered, but both of his friends shook their heads and stepped past him. It was dark, musty and smelled in a weird way, like a library. If a library had locked its doors and not let anyone enter for a good century or so.

Sam took the lead, her flashlight catching on unfamiliar shapes and shadows. “Do you know what we’re looking for?” she asked, her voice uncertain.

Danny shook his head, “Not really, just… answers.”

They looked around the ground floor at first, but if it held anything particularly supernatural or important, it wasn’t going to be found. “This just looks like my grandma's living room.” Tucker complained, taking the sheet off of one of the couches, “we need to go further in if we want to actually find something.”

He wasn’t wrong, Danny looked over to the spiralling staircase in the back of the room, and then to the other doors that surrounded it on the first floor. “It’s probably better to do this systemically right? Go through every room on each floor and move our way up?”

“You mean like in a video game?” Sam asked, “sure, we can do that.”

They started on the left, but that room wasn’t much better when it came to finding any kind of clues. It held a kitchen, a very old kitchen, with a stove and oven that Danny had only ever seen in period movies. But…

“Why does it smell like cookies?” Danny asked, turning to his friends who both looked at him like he was crazy.

“Cookies? Yo, Danny this place smells like straight up death. Not cookies.” Tucker said, backing away from the oven and starting to open up cabinets.

Sam rolled her eyes and did the same on the other side of the kitchen, “it doesn’t smell like death you dolt, it smells… like a graveyard.”

Danny walked to the middle of the room, towards the oven- he always made sure to be the one seeking out the more dangerous or suspicious things in the haunts they went to- while the two of them bickered. They tended to start these smaller, petty arguments when they were scared, it took the edge off.

“Duh?” Tucker said, and Danny heard him slam one of the cabinets shut, “graveyards are death? What does it smell like to you? Your Mom’s perfume?”

“No, it smells like someone dying, you know all hospital chemicals and gross stuff.”

There wasn’t anything in the oven, but oddly, Danny had felt a wave of warmth when he opened it. Almost like it had just been used. But, ghosts didn’t need to eat, right? And there couldn’t have been a person living here, they’d notice that. At least, Danny hopes they would notice that. After being in dozens of life or death scenarios hinging on whether they noticed important but minute details, they’d become pretty good at that kind of thing.

“Ugh! Don’t talk about hospitals, I’m still not over North Mercy, that was horrible,” Tucker turned to Danny, leaning on one of the counters and ignoring the cabinet he opened right behind his head. “What do you think death smells like Danny?”

Danny walked over and closed the cabinet, he didn’t want something to suddenly appear inside of it all twisted limbs and empty eyes or for something to crawl out and scare them, or even have it slam shut on Tuckers head, like some ghosts were known to do. He didn’t have to put much thought into his answer, “It smells like burnt flesh, electricity, and polished wood.”

Tucker paled, “oh… right. Sorry.”

He shrugged, “anything yet?”

“Not unless you count cobwebs, dust, and deteriorating cooking books,” Sam answered, walking over to both him and Tucker.

Danny looked around at the kitchen, it looked normal, even some dying light shone in from the one window along the outer wall. The only thing weird was the shape and that was because it was at the bottom of a spiralling clocktower. There was nothing particularly scary about the place, and frankly Danny didn’t know what to do with that.

“Let’s move on, this place is giving me the creeps,” Sam said, crossing the room and going to the next door.

Danny and Tucker followed, unwilling to be left behind, or to let her go on her own. The next room was the same size as the other two, but it had an extra window and was crammed absolutely full of books. Just books. Stacks and stacks of them where they didn’t fit on the shelves, which were completely packed themselves, and Danny had the thought that this was probably what he was smelling when they first walked in.

It was a library. A personal one, but without any room to sit or anything to sit on despite the genuinely impressive display of books and Danny found himself gently stroking his hand against the cover of a book on the top of the nearest stack, When Ghosts Speak: Understanding Earthbound Spirits.

“Please tell me we aren’t reading all of this,” Tucker whined. Danny frowned, why wouldn’t he want to read these? It was a treasure trove of information, these books could have countless, researched, answers to questions they’ve been asking since the start of everything!

What if one of these books could tell them why Amity Park seemed to attract the supernatural, why they seemed to gain power within the city’s boundaries, why Danny wasn’t dead. He wanted nothing more than to grab any one of these books, walk into the next room, with the couches and comfortable chairs, sit down and read and read until he found something, anything he could use.

These books might even be able to help him deal with the supernatural threats that plagued their town. Mostly they’ve been surviving through luck and half baked internet searches with the occasional trip to the town library. And while it had been enough so far, Danny was practically salivating at the thought of being properly, genuinely prepared for something for once.

“Of course we aren’t,” Sam said, dragging Danny out of his fantasies of maybe knowing what he was doing, “they’re completely deteriorated. If we even tried to open one it would probably fall apart.”

Danny frowned, and then looked down at the book he’d subconsciously grabbed. It didn’t seem as bad as Sam was describing, but he also didn’t want to risk it either. He’d realized early on there was a difference between what he was seeing and what was actually real. He set it down gently and looked around the rest of the room with his friends.

“Are we so sure this place is haunted?” Danny asked. By then, the sun had set entirely and the only light left was their flashlights. High powered and with fresh batteries they were still little use against the encroaching dark and Danny wanted to move on to the next floor already if he wasn’t going to be able to open a book.

Tucker stood up from behind a precariously leaning shelf and dusted himself off, “Dude you’re the one that said there was something here and we needed to investigate. Remember, like an hour ago when the two of us were trying to stop you from going inside?”

Danny scoffed, “that’s not what I mean.”

“What do you mean then?” Sam asked, stepping closer so she could meet his eyes. There was something in her expression, curiosity or suspicion, Danny couldn’t quite parse.

“I…” Danny stopped to think, what did he mean? Was it just that the place didn’t feel haunted? There wasn’t anything here trying to scare him away, no ominous winds or loud knocking, but they’ve gone into haunts before that took a long time to start actually reacting to them. “There’s no, I don’t know how to explain it. Usually when we go somewhere haunted, that a ghost has a claim to or whatever… there’s this feeling that I’m trespassing? I don’t feel like I’m trespassing here.”

That probably didn’t make any sense, and despite everything they didn’t usually act on Danny’s gut instincts as a group without evidence. The issue with the circus and it’s terrifying owner was a lesson too well learned after all.

True to expectations neither Sam nor Tucker looked convinced. They shared a quick ‘what now’ look between each other and Danny resisted taking a step back and sinking into the wall. Not that he could do that, as far as he knew he couldn’t do that. Only actual ghosts could do something like that and despite everything Danny was still human- well, still had a physical form.

Permanently.

“Let’s move on upstairs,” Sam reasoned, “if Danny’s right there won’t be any harm in it, and if he’s not we’ll find out once whatever’s here starts actually reacting to us, right?”

Perfectly reasonable and logicked as always. Danny nodded and walked to the next door, if he was right it would lead into the room they had first entered with the staircase that twisted and climbed higher and higher into the heart of the tower. That was the next place to go. He knew that.

Tucker gently patted his shoulder as they walked towards the base of the stairs, “yeah, maybe the ghost doesn’t consider this bottom part his haunt? Maybe he just likes the clock on top?”

Danny smiled, “like the hunchback of Notre Dame?”

Smiling back, Tucker nodded, “exactly! Oh man, we gotta find out if that guy is real one of these days.”

“We have our hands a bit tied with Amity Park without going after disney characters,” Sam said, pushing the two of them from behind so they’d actually go up the stairs. “Now let's get a move on, I want to be back home before breakfast so my parents don’t realize I snuck out again.”

There was something Danny could say but he bit back the comment about how at least her parents would notice and quickly walked up the stairs instead. As soon as his feet touched the first step a bubbly feeling lifted in his chest, and it made him want to go higher as fast as he could there was someone up there waiting for him-

“Danny!” Sam called out, grabbing him by the arm, “calm down!”

Her grip on his arm was tight and Danny looked down to see what had her panicked only to find his feet had left the stairs entirely and he’d started floating upwards instead of walking. Like a human. Like his friends. Like what he was supposed to be.

He swallowed and let himself sink back down, forcing the feeling in his chest back as much as he could. It was like trying to kill the fizz in a shaken soda by screwing a cap back on it and he struggled with it for a moment. He’d never felt like this before- sure, most ghosts and other supernatural entities tended to broadcast emotions to a higher degree than humans, and with them also being natural empaths and Danny’s unfortunate situation it often led to him being overtaken by emotions that weren’t necessarily his own.

It’s just, they’ve never been this overwhelmingly positive before.

Even with Vlad, as human as he was, his emotions were always tinted with obsession and desperation. His need to have Danny and his mother for his own colored every interaction he’d had with the man and it often left a bitter, strained feeling in his chest. Right now, Danny felt almost giddy. And he wasn’t even sure it wasn’t just his own emotions, reacting to the environment around him. It was a nice environment after all.

But Danny was good at ignoring things like that.

“My bad. I’ll try and keep my feet on the ground from now on.”

Sam looked conflicted, “Danny you know we don’t mind you using your powers,” Danny nodded, they’d told him so many times over and over again, “But we don’t want to lose you to them. You promised to stay with us, remember?”

Danny smiled, “I remember. I won’t end up like that, I promised. That’s why we’re here right? To stop it?”

Sam nodded and let him go.

The second floor was similar to the first, in that it had three rooms leading into each other with the spiral staircase in the center. Danny started with the door on the right. It was a study. There was a desk, paperwork, and a bottle of ink with a quill and Danny found himself wondering just how old this clocktower really was. And how long it had been since its occupant was truly here, alive, if ever.

They split up and started looking around, eagerness exposed in their movements. This was the most likely place to have something useful, especially if whoever spent their time here was as studious as the lower floor suggested. Danny went for the desk.

There was a note on it, in perfect, looped handwriting and the ink was still glistening, fresh from the bottle if the smell had anything to say about it. Danny ran his hand across the words hoping to smudge it, but it had dried already, if barely.

It’s nice to meet you, little anomaly.

Danny grit his teeth.

“Guys,” he called out, holding the paper, “It knows we’re here.”

Sam and Tucker rushed over, and Sam grabbed the paper from his hand to read for herself. “Little anomaly? Isn't that kind of insensitive?”

“Yeah,” Tucker agreed, “you just have weird ghost powers right? Vlad’s the same way it’s not like you’re the only person on the planet like you.”

Hesitant to correct him, Danny bit his tongue. It was true that Vlad was a person who had unfortunately gained the abilities of a ghost, things like floating, making objects move with his mind or using his spirit to control people while he slept safe and sound at home. And he’d gained them in a similar way to Danny as well, trusting the wrong people and delving into things he never fully understood and still didn’t.

It was just … less true for Danny was all.

But he wasn’t going to tell them that, he wasn’t going to tell anyone that. So how did whoever, or whatever this was, know? Or was it just saying things to get under his skin, that was pretty par for the course when it came to ghosts. So why wasn’t it doing anything else? Trying to get them to leave? Was Sam right? Was it really a trap this entire time? What would happen if they went back downstairs and tried the door, would it open?

He grabbed the paper and shoved it into one of his jackets pockets, there was plenty of time to freak out over it later after all. “Let’s keep looking around, there has to be something here that it’s trying to distract us from.”

Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything more useful than there had been downstairs. Just what one would expect from a normal office. What papers he did find had detailed extensive notes, yes. But they were in a language Danny couldn’t read and neither Sam nor Tucker even recognized. It was infuriating!

Almost like whoever was haunting this place, was telling them it had all the answers they wanted but wouldn’t give them any. He just wanted to know how - Danny shook his head. There had to be something. He wouldn’t have been led all the way here, had all those dreams, if there was nothing he could do at all.

He threw one more frustrated look around the office before he threw the stack of papers he’d been digging through on the floor and marched over to the next door. It was unlocked, again, just like all of the others and it only served to increase Danny’s frustration.

“Wait, Danny,” Sam noticed him leaving and quickly followed, the door slammed shut behind them, locking Tucker inside the office.

“No,” he whispered, this was all his fault, he shouldn’t have let this ghost get in his head like this! He never should have let his emotions take him over, he knew better. It led to bad things. Horrible, terrible, things.

There was a loud bang on the door, someone was pounding against it and Danny flinched. Was the actual haunting finally starting? Was everything really just a way to lure them deeper into the tower and away from each other?

“Guys?” he heard Tucker call out from the other side of the door, “did you seriously just leave me behind? Don’t we have like, a rule against that?!”

Danny sighed in relief, it was just Tucker. “Are you okay Tuck? Did anything happen over there when the door shut? Any oozing walls or flying papers-”

There was another thump, probably Tucker banging his head against the door, “I know what to look for Danny I’ve been doing this the exact same amount of time as you.”

“Yeah yeah,” Danny acquessed. “Just get to the stairs and we’ll meet you there.”

He exchanged a glance with Sam, she was glaring a hole into the side of his head and he felt guilty for being the cause of everything going wrong, again. So he apologized and ignored her exaggerated eye roll when she said he should have known better, because well, he did. But what was he going to do, apologize twice?

The room they were in was a simple one, likely some kind of storage space that he and Sam could dig through for hours on end, but it was more important to get to Tucker than to try and make sure they didn’t miss anything.

Which, in hindsight, was probably exactly why they’d been separated.

A cold breeze tickled at Danny’s hair and he felt himself relax despite it all. It felt nice, the cold, and Danny liked when the haunts they went to leaned towards the chillier side like this. Sometimes, especially if Vlad was involved, it felt like he was walking into an overwarm swamp when he entered a haunt and it made him itchy and uncomfortable the entire time. Vlad never seemed to notice, and his friends complain equally about both, so Danny had mostly kept it to himself.

The entire tower felt nice, cold dry air, the smell of books, ink, and cookies, even the playful, excited feeling that seemed to permeate throughout the tower. Like someone had designed it to appeal in every way to both sides of Danny’s instincts.

It was unnerving.

He followed Sam out of the room and back into the middle where the stairs were, but Tucker wasn’t there.

Sam pulled out her phone, and Danny held his breath as it rang, once, twice, and then a click and Tucker’s familiar, annoyed voice came through the speaker and Danny sighed in relief. “Uh guys? I couldn’t get out the door so I tried to climb out a window, and there was uh, a ladder. So I’m outside right now. Come get me?”

Danny met eyes with Sam and nodded, they headed back down, “we’re coming Tuck,” he said.

“Cool, cool, actually rather than coming to get me, can we just go home? Come back later, like in the day time? How come we never do these things in the daytime?”

“You know that’s not how ghosts work Tucker.” Sam said, bored, as they walked to the front door. Danny felt a tug, something like a hand on his shoulder and turned to see what was behind him. There wasn’t anything there.

He turned back around to see that Sam had already walked outside, and was holding the door open for him, one of her eyebrows raised. Awkwardly, Danny jogged a little, so as to not hold them up too long. But before he could actually walk outside the door slammed shut.

Sam screamed.

“Danny! Are you okay!” Tucker asked, his voice panicked and muffled from the other side of the door.

“I’m fine,” Danny said, gritting his teeth and turning around. The room didn’t look or feel any different. There was nothing screaming at him to get out or anything else malicious. If anything it seemed even cosier than before, and Danny didn’t really know how to react to that.

He looked back at the door. There was a way, no. He couldn’t do that. Danny pinched at the bridge of his nose, the only thing to do, really, was to see who had invited him in. That’s what it was right? Some kind of weird ghostly invite?

“I’m going to go check upstairs,” he called out to his friends before walking back towards the staircase.

They pounded on the door, “Danny don’t you dare go up there without us! Just wait, we’ll find a way in! It’s dangerous alone!”

Ignoring their protests Danny took the stairs two steps at a time, fighting the rising excitement in his chest and firmly planting his feet against the polished wood. There were answers waiting for him, he knew there were. He just had to find them.

The third floor had a bedroom, it was nice, cozy and the bed even looked inviting. Danny didn’t bother to stay long. Whoever it was that called him here wasn’t in this room, nor were they in the next or the one after that. Just two bedrooms and a bathroom on that floor and Danny quickly made his way to the next.

This room was different from the rest. For one there were windows, everywhere, that seemed to play different scenes of different people from all over the world. If Danny strained his ears, he could even hear them speaking different languages. On the other side from the windows was an entire wall of clockwork that chimed and churned as the gears moved, keeping the face of the clock on the outside ticking along in sync with the rest of the world.

When Danny stepped into the room properly the carpet sunk easily underneath his feet and he felt a nice, cold breeze that came from a purple flamed fire housed properly in a fireplace in the middle of the room. He hadn’t even noticed a chimney from outside.

There was a man in front of the fire. He was tall and hooded and he carried an equally tall and gnarled staff in one of his gloved hands. Danny felt himself freeze, he had never seen a ghost this solid before. There was always a little bit of transparency, no matter how powerful, they didn’t have physical forms afterall. Not like Danny.

“Who are you?” he asked. His voice was dry and soft and Danny was thankful when it didn’t crack on his question. How embarrassing would that have been?

The man turned around, his face changing as he did from old and aged to a younger one, closer to his parent’s age, a large jagged scar marking it’s way through one of his eyes and down his cheek. He smiled, “I am Clockwork, Master of time. All that was, All that is, and All that will be. I understand you have many questions for me. I hope to answer them.”

A thousand questions ran rapidly through his mind, why did you call me here? Did you call me here? Why get rid of my friends? What are you and why haven’t I seen anything like you before?

“How do I prevent myself from becoming that.” Danny asked the most pressing question first, desperate. The man-ghost-Clockwork, sighed and gestured for him to sit. There was a comfortable looking couch with an equally comfortable chair across from it and a plate of cookies set on an elegantly carved coffee table between the two.

“That’s easily answered, sit, have a cookie.” Clockwork floated over, crossing his legs and settling into the chair before grabbing a cookie for himself.

Danny glanced at them, uncertain, before taking a seat. The couch was even more comfortable than it looked and he found himself sinking back into it, confused. The room was a nice, cold, temperature as well, despite the fire clearly burning in the fireplace.

He grabbed one of the cookies, “can I eat these?” he asked, looking over at his host.

“Of course,” Clockwork smiled, taking a bite of his own before leaning back, “I made them for you. Though your friends would have to be more careful, I’m not sure what food like this would do to a human.”

“I am human,” Danny argued, placing the cookie back on its plate. He had to, denial was all he had left at this point.

Clockwork frowned, “yes, well, I suppose we’ll get there next. You wanted to know about your dreams.”

Finally, Danny nodded, “they’re different ever since- uh well… ever since the incident.”

“It’s natural to not want to talk about one’s death,” Clockwork said, he leaned forward and tilted his head, “or one’s birth.”

“My dreams,” Danny asked, avoiding that conversation with all the grace of a blind hippo, “why are they different. You know right?”

Sighing, Clockwork nodded and leaned back, “yes, I know everything. They’re different, frankly, because they’re dreams. It’s unsettling to you because it’s new, you’ve never dreamed before.”

Danny scowled, “that doesn’t make any sense, I had plenty of dreams when-”

Clockwork interrupted him, disappointment plain under his hood, “You can lie to your friends Daniel, but I already know the truth. Just as you do.”

“I was astral projecting. Like what Vlad does… but then why-?” Danny bit his tongue. He couldn’t say it, not outloud. It was too difficult, he’d spent too long hiding it, pushing it away and doing everything he could to keep anyone from noticing.

“Why can’t you do it anymore?” Clockwork answered for him, Danny nodded. “The simple answer is that you aren’t like Vladimir, despite what he believes and would like you to believe as well. But that’s something else you already know. Ask me a question you don’t have the answers for.”

Danny grabbed another cookie, biting into it fiercely just to have an excuse not to speak. It tasted really good, better than anything he’d had in a while and Danny wondered if maybe there was something in it meant to sate his less human cravings. The thought didn’t help his inner turmoil.

Clockwork smiled softly at him though and sighed, “Fine, in order to answer your question, first I have one of my own.”

“Didn’t you just say you know everything?” Danny mumbled before shoving more cookie in his mouth.

“What good is a teacher that only lectures?” Clockwork said in retort, “do you remember how you died?”

He did, of course he did. “Kinda hard to forget that. Lab accident, electrocution, nothing fancy.” he said, curling in on himself. Clockwork had been right before, it was painful to talk about. But he wanted, no, needed the answers to his questions. He’d survive this.

“Well, that’s where your first mistake lies. Yes, that is what stopped your heart, and likely the most memorable part, but you didn’t die from that Daniel. What killed you came after.”

Danny frowned, “that doesn’t make any sense? What happened after?”

“Your spirit was never particularly bound to your body in the first place, likely due to your parents dabbling where they shouldn’t for as long as they did before you were ever born. There was a summoning, I think you remember, that your parents were holding when your accident happened on the floor below them.”

It was frustrating, that he was right. That he knew it. “I remember them recognizing me, my spirit. I remember them finding my body and shoving me back in. I remember the pain, and waking up and seeing-” Danny choked on the realization. It couldn’t be...

“Seeing the world in your dreams?” Clockwork asked, “the way you saw it when you were a spirit, free from the confines of your body, correct?” He floated over the table, sat next to Danny, and placed a hand on his back. Danny realized he had been shaking.

He grabbed the fabric of his jeans in a tight grip and tried to stop, “It’s all real, right? It isn’t… I’m not still dreaming? Please, I need to know.”

The hand on his back pulled him close, tucked into Clockwork’s side and Danny felt comforted despite himself, he fought to blink away tears that had been building behind his eyes as he tucked himself into Clockwork’s side. He was so solid, unlike any other ghost Danny had ever met and he seemed to radiate comfort where most just gave off fear and hurt.

“You’re not dreaming Daniel, you never were. The world is different when you see it through our eyes, that is all. When you woke up, you weren’t human anymore. Of course you wouldn’t be limited by a human’s sight.”

Danny curled into himself tighter, despair clouding around him and likely leeching unpleasantly into the air. It would be a wonder if Clockwork didn’t feel it. “So I’m a ghost.”

“Hardly,” Clockwork said and Danny stopped breathing, “Do you think the world is so simple it is split between what is ghostly and what is not?”

“I…” Danny had actually assumed that. So far everything they’d dealt with so far, short of Vlad, had either been a ghost or spirit of some kind, or a human that used magic or ghostly artifacts. Even Vlad had simply been a person who had learned how to control his own spirit the way a ghost would. If Danny wasn’t a human, and he wasn’t a ghost, then what was he?

Clockwork ruffled his hair, “I suppose you’re young. It is easier, afterall, to think of it that way. But Daniel, ghosts don’t have physical forms. They can possess one, or control one, and sometimes even mimic one, but they are spirits.”

He sighed, “you are something entirely different. You’re something remarkable.”

Danny leaned back, using the sleeves of his hoodie to quickly dry his tears so he could look Clockwork in the eye, “What am I?”

“You’re new.”

Danny shoved him, “Agghh, I knew that you jerk!” It was probably a bad idea to attack or antagonize someone as clearly powerful and knowledgeable as Clockwork, but really he’d been asking for it. And Danny’s patience was only so strong.

Clockwork didn’t fight him back though, nor did he get offended. Instead he just smiled that soft smile that Danny was starting to realize was affection, and said, “did you? Weren’t you trying to read my books to find out if there was anyone else like you?”

“Well yeah-” Danny stopped, “Oh. There wouldn’t be anything would there? If I’m the first?”

He groaned, that really was just his luck. He’d never figure out anything at this rate. Clockwork, the bastard, just hummed and grabbed another cookie, offering it to him. “No there wouldn’t. But you’re not the only one who was the first or only of their kind. Who had to figure out on their own, who and what they are.”

“You mean Vlad?” Danny asked, the thought left a sour taste in his mouth, wow he really hoped he didn’t mean Vlad.

Clockwork’s smile turned brittle, “I don’t mean Vlad.”

Danny chuckled, his thoughts turning mischievous, “I don’t know, he seems pretty unique, what with all those different abilities he has and the way he can choose to be human or ghost-”

“Oh please,” Clockwork interrupted, “there’s plenty of humans like Vladimir Masters, you were fully capable of astral projecting like that from birth, no black magic necessary. Just because he found a way to twist-”

He stopped, then looked down at Danny who was trying and failing to hold back a shit eating grin. All at once the air seemed to leave him and he deflated, the irritated look on his face replaced with open and honest affection and Danny felt it sing in the air around them.

“You were messing with me.”

“To be fair I didn’t think it would work, all knowing and everything.” Danny said, unable to fight the bubbling feeling in his chest as it rose to meet the affection around them. Usually it sucked having the empathy of a ghost and being near one or at least, something with the same traits. The negative emotions tended to bounce between him and them and amplify and it always made Danny struggle to parse his own emotions from theirs. But right now, in the top of a clock tower with the most powerful entity Danny had ever met, he felt happiness and joy to a degree he’d long forgotten. It was dizzying. He was almost giddy with it.

Clockwork patted him on the head, purposefully messing his hair, “yes well. I think in time, it will be more obvious just how different you truly are, how crucial every small coincidence was that came together that night to create you. But until then, you had another question? I can answer it now.”

Danny frowned as he realized what Clockwork meant, “You! I asked that question first! How did you only answer the one you wanted to!!”

“It was important,” Clockwork said, relaxing into the couch next to Danny, “to answer that question I had to be sure you knew what you were.”

He sputtered, “But I don’t?! I’m just something new! Something different!”

“Something physical that exists with the laws of the spiritual.”

“Yeah!” Danny said, “Wait, what?”

Clockwork nodded his head, “a physical entity that exists within the realms of spiritual possibility. It must be such a struggle, to deal with both sets of instincts like that.”

Danny’s head hurt, it was too much to try and understand the details of all of this. Maybe Tucker was right and he should just have let it be, learn to live with the new normal his life was now. Wasn’t that kind of what Clockwork was suggesting anyways? Then again, unlike Tucker, he did seem to thrive off of all of Danny’s questions, whether he actually answered them or not.

“Yeah, I have to fight my more ghostly instincts all the time. It’s exhausting.” he said, leaning into Clockwork. It should have been embarrassing, seeking comfort like that, but he’d already cried into his shoulder and there wasn’t really any way to come back from that so Danny did as he pleased.

He felt Clockwork’s hand return to his back, a solid comforting presence, “Now why would you do that?”

Danny tilted his head in confusion, “what do you mean?”

“Why would you fight against one half of yourself so thoroughly? But embrace the other side entirely?” Clockwork elaborated. “Did you think there wouldn’t be any consequences in fighting against your nature?”

“But,” Danny struggled to speak, pieces of the puzzle he’d thought hopeless putting themselves together in ways he had never expected and didn’t quite understand, “my nature is bad.”

Clockwork frowned and turned to look at Danny properly, “Daniel, it’s your nature. There is nothing good or bad about it. It is only as it is. Everything is as it’s meant to be.”

This was too much, Danny sat up fully and turned entirely towards Clockwork, “are you saying, the way I become that thing from my nightmare, is by… doing what I’ve been doing to avoid becoming that thing?!”

“Yes,” Clockwork answered like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

He blinked, the answer really couldn’t be that easy. “But in my dream, I, my instincts-”

Clockwork grabbed a cookie and placed it in his hands, “even humans react poorly, when they starve themselves. As you exist now, you simply need a different kind of sustenance. One you’ve been denying.”

Danny felt dread crawl down the length of his spine, “what kind of sustenance?”

“Spirits exist for reasons, and they exist differently from humans. In order to keep existing they need emotions, experiences, something to keep them held together. A spirit that has no reason to exist will simply disappear, you’ve seen such before it is relatively common after all. But you can’t do that, since you are physical in a way that they are not. You can starve yourself endlessly, into madness even if you’re desperate enough.”

“I do it to myself?” Danny asked, flustered and frustrated. It was true then? He really was his own worst enemy?

Clockwork shook his head, “it is not inevitable Daniel. As you were, it was the most likely path forward. Yes. You would have noticed the symptoms, seen yourself losing control and then, in reaction, suppressed yourself further. Starved yourself further.”

Danny cringed, yeah, that sounded like him. “How do I stop it then? I just embrace what makes me ghostly? What about my parents? If they think they failed the resurrection, that I’m not human anymore, they’ll kill me for real! Or worse!”

“That is indeed troublesome, and the paths of the future where they know your truth are twisted and sharp, every small decision every tiny change causing a greater effect on their reactions as a whole. But you do not need to reveal yourself to your parents to live your truth.”

Relieved, Danny fell back into the couch. He hadn’t even noticed he’d floated off of it, was that good? Bad? He shook his head, this was all too confusing. “How then?” He asked, maybe this time he’d actually get a straight answer.

Clockwork ruffled his hair and stood up, er, well, floated up and over towards the fire. “You continue doing what you’re doing with your friends, protecting your town and interacting with the truth of the world around you. And…” He turned around, “you can come visit me. It’s quite lonely in the clock tower they trapped me in, and there is much I can teach you about becoming. I had to learn such things about myself once after all.”

“You’ll let me come back? To visit you?” Danny didn’t know what to say. He could come visit, ask more questions, get more answers. It seemed too good to be true, and Danny found himself eager and excited at the prospect.

For some reason, the entire conversation, he’d thought this would be a one time thing. That the clocktower would disappear behind him and leave any question he didn’t ask unanswered. To find out that wasn’t the case, that he had somehow, against all odds, made some kind of ghostly ally, was beyond expectations. “You’ll help me?”

The answering smile had Danny floating out of his seat, “Of course Daniel. I’ll even bake cookies.”

#Danny phantom #Clockwork #clockwork dp #Phic Phight #phic phight 21 #sam manson #tucker foley #op #Bee's writing

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guardianoffandoms · 3 years

Text

Here’s my gift for @voxymoxyboxy for the Sam and Max secret Santa! I hope that you like it!

SHOCK, CRACKLE, POPPERS!

Summary: After Sam and Max escape the pit of hell using Santa’s sleigh, The Soda Poppers decide to trap them in a way they can’t escape!

A chill runs through the main office of hell. Said office had always been about 2 degrees above comfortable because it is hell, after all. Our Dubious Duo, Sam and Max, have escaped the pit of hell and are working on a plan to put the Poppers in their place! However, that plan isn't exactly panning out.

Sam had been in the process of creating a cake so he could trick the Soda Poppers into sending themselves into the pit. This plan had one flaw, the Soda Poppers, while they are annoying, and pesky, and a pain in the ass, they are also remarkably perceptive when someone wants to hurt them. Case in point, when Sam was creating the cake, Peepers realized that he was up to something and quickly alerted his brothers. Together they trapped our duo in cages deep below hell, to wither and suffer for all eternity.

“SAM! THE WRITER IS TRYING TO BE EDGY!” Max whines before Sam interrupts.

“Quiet onion-head, you can break the fourth wall later! Right now we gotta get out of here!”

Sam looks around the room, assessing the situation. He and Max were trapped in cages suspended above apparently bottomless chasms, connected only by brick pathways that had an elevator at one end and an endless number of more cages at the other. Sam scratches at his neck only to discover a collar wrapped around his neck. After a moment or two of trying to pry it off, Sam shrugs and decides to ignore it for the moment.

“Well nice to know interior decorators go to heaven.” Max deadpans.

“Hey Max! Look up there!” Sam exclaims, pointing at a speaker resting atop the elevator.

After a few moments, the speaker screeches to life. They quickly wished it stayed off.

“Hello, Sam and Max!” Specs’ voice rings out. “And welcome to your permanent resting place! We have trapped you in- Hey! Move it!” “No Specs! You can't hog the Announcer of Doom!” they hear Whizzer wine

“Yes I can! I called dibs!”

“Max, I found our personal hell,”

“Being forced to listen to their nasally, annoying, prepubescent complaining for the rest of eternity?”

“I was going to say reruns of care bears but yeah that too.”

“ENOUGH! Sam and Max, for getting in our way we created a perfect trap! One where Sam can't talk or Rube Goldberg his way out! And Max, you can escape, but you have to leave Sam behind! Try to free him, and Sam will pay the price! HAHAH-” The speaker cuts off before Peepers finishes laughing, leaving our duo confused by his warning. Well, one confused and the other concerned.

After a few moments, Sam and Max’s gazes move from the speaker to each other.

“Well that was ominous.” Sam grimaces.

“Yeah, but come on Sam, it's the Soda Poppers! Those pint-sized halfwits couldn't work a mousetrap! Let's get the hell outta hell!” Max exclaims, pulling himself up on the bars of his cage for effect. His show of confidence working wonders on Sam, his grimace turning back into his trademark smile. “You’re right little buddy! Now let's get you out first since apparently you can escape without me, so your cage must be faulty in some way!” Sam exclaims as he looks over Max's cage.

Sam quickly notices that Max's cage is closed by a padlock and chain. “Alright max! All you gotta do is undo the lock. If you got a paperclip this would be a gre-” Sam is cut off by a loud crunch and the bang of the padlock hitting the ground. “Well Sam, while a paper clip would have worked, my jaw needed the exercise!” Max remarks as his cage door swings open and he wanders over to Sam. “You’re a menace to biology little buddy.”

Their jovial attitude was short lived, the closer Max got the more static seemed to build around Sam's neck. “Max, don't touCH TH-!” Sam's plea quickly turned into a pained whine when Max touched the cage. At the noise, Max stumbles back and the speaker crackles to life once more.

“Uh oh! Looks like you found out our plan!” Whizzers voice screeches out. “If you touch Sam's cage, he gets ZAPPED! If he tries to help you free himself, ZAP! No talking, no ideas, no planning!” The reality of the situation starts to set in, and Max was ready to behead three child stars. “Have fun with your cage! Bye-bye!”

The speaker goes quiet, and so do our heroes.

Sam lifts himself up from his fallen position to gaze at Max. He couldn't get out alone, and nobody could read him better than Max. Meanwhile, Max is shivering. Not from hell's new climate, but shivering with rage. He whips around to Sam and sharply grins. “Alright Sam, what's the plan? Because I got two paws, a gun, and the will to make murder a felony in hell.”

Sam smirks at the lagomorph before standing up and observing the lock on his cage. It was a simple lock and chain, same as Max’s. However, Sam did not possess Max’s biting force nor his probably illegal teeth, so they’d have to improvise. He motioned towards the lock and did a hand gesture for a gun. Max quickly understood Sam's bad charades and pulled out his gun to shoot the lock. Before he could pull the trigger, Sam falls to the ground, electricity flooding his body. After a few moments, the shocks stop and Sam lays on the floor catching his breath.

“We got a plan B, Sam? Because as much as I love hearing your pathetic whining, the fact that I'm not causing it kinda sours the enjoyment, ya know?” While his banter was playful, Sam could see the anger building in Max. Satan help the Soda Poppers, because not even god can save them now. Leaning against the side of his cage, Sam holds up his pointer finger and gives Max a wink. A look of realization crosses the lagomorphs face, followed by a grin that he quickly covers with a look of pure grief.

“Sam. Sam, come on. You can't give up that easy! You never give up that easy!” Max exclaimes gesturing around him. ”Come on Sam, we made it to hell! We can make it out, Sam! SAM!” as he spoke, Max started to cry.

“Sam we’ve known each other forever! You can't just give up!” Max looks at Sam,and Sam nods before taking off his hat. Max gazes at the hat a moment before- “FINE THEN! THEN THIS IS THE END SAM! HAVE A NICE AFTERLIFE!” Max yells before storming towards the elevator.

Meanwhile, the Soda Poppers are watching this play out from the main office of hell. A few moments after Max stalks towards the elevator, the camera feed cuts out, leading the Poppers to believe that Max was leaving without Sam. The elevator rises, its doors opening to reveal Max, looking sullen and angry. As the elevator doors close, Max turns to the Poppers.

“Well well well, it looks like the freelance police are over!” Specs proclaims joyfully. Max grimaces and responds, “yeah, turns out Sam wants to do this on his own. Has a whole plan that I'm apparently not smart enough to comprehend so whatever. I've got a wedding to officiate anyway.” Max mutters walking to hell's kitchen next to hell's meeting room. Opening the fridge max pulls out an odd looking concoction, resembling a cake with a bright red candle.

As Max walked back to the Poppers, he shoots the bell at the top of the ice cream truck now parked inside the office. The bell ringing causes Specs to close his book and now all that needed to happen was the Soda Poppers blowing out their candle.

“Hey Whizzer.” Max spoke casually. “Mind showing me your new trick again? I couldn't see it last time because Sam was in the way.” “Of course I can! Or my name isn't Whizz-rael the Tormentor!” Max pulls out the cake so the fire lights the candle. At the sight the Poppers jump for joy. “Aww! You remembered!” “Yep, I sure did, wouldn't miss your birthday for anything!”

As always, the word ‘birthday’ makes the mariachi band show up. And as they finish their song, the soda poppers blow out the candle. Sending them straight into the pit. “CURSE YOU SAM AND MAX!” their voices cry, growing fainter the further they fall. As the portal closes, the elevator opens again, revealing Sam!

Max smiles, running over to Sam. “TA-DA! Another case closed, another set of lives ruined! I say we head home and eat junk food till the cows come home! What do ya think, Sam?” Sam grins at Max’s antics before pointing to the collar still affixed to his neck. Max pauses. “Oooh, right, kinda forgot about that.” He jumps up on Sam's back and grabs the collar before snapping it with his teeth. Sam pulls the remaining metal off, rubs his neck and turns to Max. “Thanks Max, another minute in that thing and I'd have pulled a Cujo!”

“You mean go feral and kill helpless civilians? Sounds like fun! Can we? Can we please?” Max pleads, his smile too wide to appear anything but dangerous. “Sorry little buddy but you gotta wedding to officiate and I've gotta reload my gun.” Sam remarks, walking towards the exit. “Yeah, you’d think the Soda Poppers woulda taken that but eh, made it easy for you to shoot your way out.” Max replies, walking instep with Sam. “Yep, now let's get outta hell before beelze-bub eats all the hors d'oeuvres.”

#sam and max: ss2020 #telltale sam and max #sam and max freelance police #sam and max #set in 2:05 #soda poppers

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singledarkshade · 6 years

Text

Sunnydale Centurion

Part Six - Wild Animals

“We’ve got the yearly fieldtrip tomorrow to the zoo,” Rory told Amy while he rested back on his pillows with the phone against his ear.

She laughed, “Sounds exciting.”

“As Xander and Willow remind me every year it means we’re not in class,” Rory told her, “I suppose they do have a point.”

“They’re right,” Amy told him, “Be thankful, we have a math test tomorrow.”

Rory chuckled before asking wryly, “Did you study or are you just winging it?”

“I did study,” she sounded offended before adding, “A little.”

A fond smile touched his lips.

“So, what about this new girl you told me about?” Amy asked, “What was her name again?”

“Buffy,” Rory replied, “And she’s nice, a good friend.”

“Really?” Amy asked drawing out the question, “Just a friend?”

Rory grimaced wanting to tell Amy there would never be anyone for him but her. As usual the words stuck because he knew she wouldn’t reciprocate his feelings.

“She has a boyfriend,” he lied, although from the looks of things whenever she was with Angel something would happen soon, “Besides I think of her the same way I think of Mels.”

“Someone you’re going to have to bail out of jail soon?” Amy asked cheekily.

Rory laughed, “Hopefully not.”

They both laughed for several moments while Rory thought of the other girl in Leadworth he missed.

“When are you coming home?” Amy demanded suddenly.

“It won’t be until the middle of summer vacation this year,” Rory told her, “But we will be home for three weeks.”

“Three weeks?” Amy asked, “And you promise you will be in the same country as me for twenty-one whole days?”

“I promise,” Rory smiled at her demand.

“Good,” she stated firmly, “And you better spend all your time with us.”

Rory laughed, “I need to see my gran too.”

“You’ll be staying with her,” Amy reminded him, “You’ll see her each night.”

He laughed again before promising, “I’ll do my best.”

“As long as you’re here,” she said softly.

Rory smiled before frowning when he heard his mother’s voice calling, “This is your two minute warning.”

They both sighed.

“I hate this,” Amy said, “Only getting to talk to you for one hour a week.”

Rory couldn’t help but smile at that, “I hate it too but you remember how much we had to fight to get even this.”

“Amy!!!”

Rory grimaced as her Aunt called out the one minute warning.

“I’ll talk to you next week,” he promised, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” Amy replied, “Enjoy the zoo.”

*********************************************

Rory was confused by how Xander was acting.

They’d known one another for several years and Rory had never seen Xander treat Willow like she was anything less than brilliant. Watching his friend treat her like she was nothing more than a piece of dirt on the sole of his shoe made Rory want to punch him more than he’d ever wanted to hit anyone.

“She is to me,” his voice echoed through his mind before he felt and heard the smack of his fist against a jaw.

Rory was pulled back to the corridor when Xander slammed into him, turning back for a moment the dark eyes of his friend were darker than he’d ever seen. Ice slid along his spine when Xander turned his back and continued along with his new friends.

Something was seriously wrong.

“Something’s wrong with Xander,” Rory announced entering the library where Buffy and Giles were talking.

Buffy smacked Giles’ arm triumphant, “See, even Rory sees it and he’s a teenage boy.”

“Did I miss half this conversation?” Rory asked confused.

“Herbert!” Willow’s voice made them turn to find her running into the library, “They found him.”

Buffy frowned, “The pig?”

Willow nodded looking sick, “Dead,” she told them before grimacing in horror, “And also eaten. Principal Flutie's freaking out.”

Rory shook his head, “Tell me he didn’t?”

Buffy turned to Giles folding her arms across her chest triumphantly, “Testosterone, huh?”

Giles stared at them for a moment before turning and heading into his office.

Willow shared a confused look with Rory before asking, “What're you gonna do?”

“Get my books,” Giles told them a little bemused, “Look stuff up.”

Rory grimaced as he read more on hyenas, looking up as Buffy dragged an unconscious Xander into the library.

“Hurry up,” Buffy told them as Rory bounded to his feet to help, “We gotta get him locked up somehow before he comes to.”

Willow stared at her, “Oh, my God, Xander! What happened?”

“I hit him,” Buffy told them.

“With what?” Rory asked moving to check his friend.

Buffy shrugged, “A desk.”

Rory turned to her, “What?”

Willow opened the cage and they watched Buffy drag him inside. She took a breath and locked the cage stopping Rory.

“I need to make sure he’s okay,” Rory told her.

Buffy placed her hand on his chest, “That’s not Xander right now. Trust me it took a lot to knock him out.”

Rory grimaced, “But...”

“I know your instinct is to look after him but right now he’s the enemy,” Buffy said before squeezing his arm, she turned and glanced round the room, “Where's Giles?”

“He got called to some teacher's meeting,” Willow told her before asking worriedly, “What are we gonna do?” Rory wrapped his arm around Willow who shakily asked, “How do we get Xander back?”

Buffy shook her head as Rory hugged Willow close both of them staring at their friend. The door opening made Rory turn to see Giles and he held onto Willow tighter at the look on the older man’s face.

Buffy sighed still looking at their unconscious friend, “Right now I'm a little more worried about what the rest of the pack are up to.”

“The rest of the pack,” Giles spoke up making the two girls turn, “Were spotted outside Herbert the mascot's cage. They were sent to the principal's office.”

Rory felt a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Willow nodded, “Good! That'll show them,” she said before wincing at the look on Giles’ face, “Did it show them?”

Giles continued to frown looking distinctly uncomfortable.

“They didn't hurt him, did they?” Buffy asked concerned.

“They, uh...” Giles hesitated and took a deep breath before finishing, “Ate him.”

Willow slipped from Rory’s grip and moved to sit down; Rory reached out and leaned on the counter trying to understand what he’d just heard.

“They ate Principal Flutie?” Buffy whispered horrified.

“Ate him up?” Willow asked looking as sick as Rory felt.

Giles leaned against the counter and took his glasses off to clean then, “The, uh, official theory is that wild dogs got into his office somehow. There was no one at the scene.”

Willow winced before she looked up, “But Xander didn't,” she turned to Buffy, “He, he was with you.”

“Oh,” Giles glanced over to the cage, “Well, that's a small mercy.”

Rory folded his arms across his chest, “So what do we do now?”

*********************************************

“How are you feeling?” Rory asked Xander who was sitting in the library with his lunch now thankfully free of the hyena for two days.

Xander showed him the cheese sandwich he was eating, “Like being a vegetarian for the next few months.”

Rory chuckled and sat beside his friend who looked relieved that Rory wasn’t shying away from him.

“I can understand,” Rory replied, pulling out his own lunch.

They sat in silence eating until the girls joined them. Rory caught them worriedly watching Xander who was busying himself opening a bag of chips.

“Okay,” Rory spoke up making them all turn to him, “My mum and Nick are out tonight. You guys want to come over and watch a movie?”

The other three turned to him and a ripple of agreement moved through the room.

“I know the perfect movie,” Xander announced with a grin, “You guys have seen Cujo right?”

Part Seven - Chocolate

#fic #doctor who #rory williams #amy pond #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy summers #xander harris #willow rosenberg #rupert giles #cordelia chase

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nightmareonfilmstreet · 6 years

Text

[Recap] CASTLE ROCK Episodes 1-3; The Beginning

What would you do if you managed to capture the devil? Would you notify the police? The church? Would you tie it to a chair and pray for its redemption, or would you release it to continue its work harvesting the souls of the unsaved? In the end, after all of our pre-capture religious grandstanding, we would probably do exactly what the Warden of the Shawshank Penitentiary in Castle Rock, Maine, did:

When Dale Lacey found the devil, he locked it away in the dark bowels of the prison, hoping that it would never again see the light of day.

So goes the central mystery surrounding the first three episodes of Hulu’s new Stephen King-inspired series, Castle Rock. Created by Sam Shaw and Dustin Thomason, the series is set up to be the Stephen King Extended Universe that all horror fans have been begging for since we first picked up one of his books. King is listed as an Executive Producer on this series, but it’s not his influence that shines through the brightest during these early episodes. For, even though the opening credits give us King Easter eggs from It, The Shining, and Cujo, and characters randomly drop hints of a shared universe, I could not watch this show without thinking about another Executive Producer’s previous work.

Castle Rock’s first three episodes could not be more similar in tone and feel to J.J. Abrams’ Lost, and I am 100% here for it.

Let’s start from the beginning. Castle Rock tells the story of a town that seems to be rotting from the inside. Like a cancer that eats away at its host, there is something gnawing at the soul of this small town in Maine. We meet Henry Deaver (Moonlight’s André Holland), who is a death row attorney in Texas, as he receives a call from a rogue guard at Shawshank. Apparently, a young man (Bill Skarsgård from last year’s It) was found deep in the lower levels of the prison. He wasn’t in a cell like the other inmates, however. He was kept in a tiger cage in a locked hole in an abandoned part of the prison.

Nearby cigarette butts reveal his jailor to be the ex-warden, Dale Lacey (Lost’s Terry O’Quinn), who had recently ended his own life in brutal fashion. The rogue guard knows that the new warden, T. Porter (Ann Cusack), is concerned only with PR and dollar signs, and will cover up this young man’s existence by any means possible. So he places a call to the one name the young man uttered during questioning, Henry Matthew Deaver.

Deaver is not a welcome sight back in Castle Rock, however. As a child, he was adopted by the preacher’s family and looks to be the only black person in a town that doesn’t seem to care much for folks that are different. In 1991, Henry went missing for 11 days, only to return unharmed and unable to remember anything about his life. Not only that, but his father, the reverend, was found nearby broken and nearly frozen to death. The man died in his home, and the entire town believed that Henry is the one that pushed him off a cliff.

As he returns home to see what is going on at the prison and to see why he was called by the mysterious young man, Henry is called “killer” on the street, kicked out of Lacey’s home by his widow and generally rebuffed at every step. He is stared at, joked about and lied to the whole time he is there. His old neighbor and oldest friend, an empath named Molly (Melanie Lynskey) turns him away because being near him causes her psychic abilities to drown out the rest of her life. She pops pills to cope, but even those cannot dull the cacophony of voices she hears whenever Henry is nearby. By the end of the third episode, they have joined forces to try to try to get Henry in touch with the young man in Shawshank, propelling the story forward towards a supernatural conflict.

“He always thought the devil was a metaphor, but now he knew. The devil was a boy, and he caught him and locked him in a box.”- Sheriff Pangborn

It’s not just the appearance of John Locke that makes Castle Rock feel like Lost 2.0. We have the central, unanswered mystery of Henry’s disappearance in 1991. Couple that with the discovery of the young man in the cage and the flashbacks showing Warden Lacey’s reasoning behind his imprisonment, and you have a classic Lost-like Good v.s. Evil story line. You are presented with the ultimate evil (Caged Young Man/Man in Black) and the ultimate hero (Henry/Jacob/Jack), who are brought together by fate to a mysterious place.

Like in Lost, this is represented by the stark differences between black and white game pieces (chess in Castle Rock, backgammon in Lost). Whichever piece you decide to grab, there must be balance. For there to be good in the world, you must have evil. Although many of King’s works (like The Stand) feature this Good v.s. Evil storyline, the first three episodes of Castle Rock do not feel like a King story at all.

Which is exactly why I love the show, so far! You could remove the references to King’s work, call the prison the “Babadook Correctional Facility” and it would still be a creepy, atmospheric mystery show with hints of the supernatural. There were moments where I wished that this was just a stand-alone show and was not attached to the King name, simply because I feel like there is a ton of potential in the story and the characters that have absolutely nothing to do with King’s universe. This is a testament to Shaw and Thomason, who wrote the first two episodes of the series. They created a world that feels so much like our own and filled it with kinetic characters that keep you wanting more. More stories, more history, and more explorations of the darkness.

It’s because of this incredible world building that the scariest aspects of the show are the ones rooted in real-life and not the supernatural. As Henry was walking the streets of his hometown, he was called “killer” by a passerby. It was said with the same disdain and contempt that the bigoted use a different word to describe a person of color like Henry. In one word, we learned all that we need to know about how the people of Castle Rock view people that aren’t like them. We see this everyday in the news as talking heads rant on about immigrants, people of color, members of the LGBTQ community and others who are deemed “outsiders” We see this town that is crumbling beneath economic hardships. Warehouses are empty. Mills have stopped running. Windows are busted out of once-great downtown shops. Inns are boarded up and cemeteries have been paved over, and it reminds us of American cities very similar to our own.

“Never again let him see the light of day… That’s what God told me” – Warden Lacey

The prison is the only employment in town, and even that is a curse. Shawshank has brought with it whole neighborhoods filled with the incarcerated’s families. Wives and Mothers who are stuck in cycles of depression and anger, sons and daughters who are so obsessed with the justice system that they hold mock trials in terrifying masks. These “games” are stark representations of what the justice system has done to them and their families. The only person in the “courtroom” not wearing a mask is the defendant, the others all false and anonymous. Secret men and women who get to destroy your life and then remove their mask and continue living their own.

Shawshank itself has transitioned into a privatized prisoner-mill, like many of our institutions here in the United States. This forces the new Warden to attempt to have the caged young man killed by another prisoner instead of revealing his existence to the authorities. The only things that matter to these people are capacity and profits, and anything that threatens the bottom line must be dealt with swiftly and brutally.

It’s these racial, economic, and societal horrors that make Castle Rock feel so real and so utterly terrifying. There are hundreds of small towns in America right now that can see a lot of similarities between their lives and the ones depicted in this series. I drive through three or four of them on a weekly basis here in Central Illinois, and it’s this real-world grounding that makes any supernatural aspect the future holds very intriguing. What will happen in the coming weeks? Will we begin to understand Henry’s disappearance in 1991? Is the young man in the prison actually the devil? Can he really do what the rogue guard saw him do on the CCTV? What role does Molly’s empathy and psychic abilities play in the upcoming confrontation, and why was she driven to do what she did so many years ago? It’s questions like these that will draw you to Castle Rock, but it’s the real-life horrors eating away at its soul that will make you stay.

You can catch the first three episodes of Castle Rock on Hulu, with more episodes dropping every Wednesday. I will be hanging out with you every week to discuss the show, so be sure to bookmark our homepage at Nightmare on Film Street so you don’t miss a single one! While you’re at it, head on over to Facebook and join our Fiend Club, where all the cool cats hang out. We’d love to hear what you think about Castle Rock, so let us know!

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