's 2014 Horror Write-off:

" Three's Company "

Submitted by Brian Shadensack

Leaves crunch under my feat.

Which is strange, its May.

But its cold, like a corpse.

Maybe its not May.

Maybe its October.

Thats the scariest month.

"I just read that Bono's Satan", I say to the actual, non musical, Satan. "I think that may be true."

Like you know Bono from U2? Of course you do.

And I'm lying, Satan is at least a little musical. I mean he can fiddle, kind of, or maybe he can violin. Is there a difference?

"There are corpses out there." Satan says, looking nothing like bono, execpt for his hair, and his eyes, and his general build; in a voice like a like 3 children. Not screaming, just being children.

Maybe three fat children, greedy. With that kind of huffy sorrow.

Not like starving children.

Like fat children, not allowed to have what a biscut? I haven't been a child for longer than most, I don't know what they want.

Anyways..."Out where? In that field? Behind my house?" I lie, I live in an apartment. We are in fact on the balcony of my apartment right now. again; wait...


Me and satan.

"You know where I read it?"

"So many corpses, not even little ones, insects are everywhere, some are even inside of you. You are insects. At least in my eyes."

Like Children

"American Phsyco."

"Corpses, of dogs, of people, the world is built on the dead. Both Blessed and Damned."

"Like its fiction right? But its so vivid, so true."

I look over at Satan.

You don't deserve an explanation of what is.

"Just thousands of corpses, in this small field behind your apartment."

"What is with you and corpses, its all you ever talk about."

"In this small field, leaves crunch like the bones buried. Bones of the long dead, bones of the corpses."

"I think I'm going to jump, just so I don't have to listen to you speak of corpses."

Something about corpses, I don't feel a need to speak of the ad infitum that spews from Satan.

"Yea that's what Patrick Bateman would do, right? Just jump, try to land on a dog."

So I do.

And I fall.

Way to far to be on my Apartment balcony.

And I hit the water, or is it ground, or is it somehwere in that would be ludicrious.

And I don't survive for long. Just long enough to feel my bones turn to dust. For my eyes to pop, for all the blood to leak from my erect dick and for me to loose my bowels.

What I didn't mention my erection.

Huh I think I would.

Because when you die, and the blood rushes to the important parts as a last ditch effort to surive. Which in my case just makes me bleed out faster.

Though maybe an erection is the wrong word, I feel it was closer to a danish someone had stepped on.

I can be funny too.

And through the pain theres a bright light. It would be a lie if I said I moved towards it, I was obviously in no positsion to move at all. It came too me like a train.

And I awake. Full, non crushed, non erect, clean pantsed.

Leaves crunch under my feat.

Which is strange, its May.

But its cold, like a corpse.

Maybe its not May.

Maybe its October.