Page 3 of 8 Bit Pulp Preview


  “One night I was walking by the gym. Thump – thump – thump –thump – thump… Obviously some kids had broken in and were playing basketball. I checked the door. It was locked. Unlocking it, I opened the door to dead silence. Turning on the lights showed an empty gym. Still, I walked through the entire gym. It was obvious that I was the only one there. I exited and locked the door. Thump – thump – thump – thump… began again!”

  “Six times I unlocked the door and checked out the empty, silent gym. Six times, as soon as the door was locked, thump – thump – thump … the phantom basketball game began again. I radioed my supervisor to say some kids were playing basketball in the gym. He told me to call the police since I was unarmed.”

  “The police arrived with a couple of K-9 units. They thoroughly searched the gym. They found and heard nothing. The officer-in-charge chewed me out for wasting their valuable time and told me there would be consequences if I did it again. As soon as I locked the door, thump – thump – thump – thump… began again. Looking him in the eye I said, ‘That’s what I’ve been hearing all night!!!’ He paled as he stared at the gym we both knew to be empty. Then he said, ‘From now on, just leave it be… just leave it be.’ Thump – thump – thump… From then on, I followed his advice.”

  The Natural said, “That is creepy!”

  Lost in thought, Chris nodded slowly as they walked along, absentmindedly waving to some window dressers working on a store display. “I won’t even go into the various places where odd smells lingered or with cold spots all year long,” he said.

  Then memories flooded Chris’ mind and he stopped without realizing it. “And then there was the laughing skateboarder. He was always in the quad area near the Science building. I never saw him. But I would hear the sound of his skateboard. Then it would stop: ‘Mumble – mumble – mumble – heeeee – he – he!’ “ His voice took on an eerie quality as it imitated the skateboarder’s laugh. Waldo and The Natural were both obviously shaken by the quality of that laugh. Totally lost in thought, he quietly continued, “I was standing where I could see the entire quad. It was totally empty. Yet the skateboard continued to ride around the quad. And each time it paused, there was the mumbling and the laughter that felt directed right at me.” Chris shivered as the memories took him.

  “Sounds like my cousin,” said Waldo, with a nervous laugh.

  “I used to park near the golf carts used by Maintenance and Campus Security and take my breaks in my truck. On at least seven occasions, I became of aware of a figure dressed in dark sweats and a dark hoodie. It stood 30 feet in front of my truck staring at me. I flipped on my lights, then my high-beams. The figure then turned and headed toward the golf carts. I got out of my truck to intercept it. When it got within about six feet of the nearest golf cart, the figure vanished into thin air!” This elicited a faint gasp from The Natural. “Needless to say, I started parking elsewhere for my breaks,” Chris stated, as he started walking again.

  “I don’t blame you,” said Waldo. “I would have quit at that point!”

  “When you have a family to support, you keep on keepin’ on, regardless,” Chris answered. “But I did ask Old Cliff, the guard who had worked there the longest, if he ever heard or saw anything weird while working his shifts. He asked, ‘Like people who vanish by the golf carts, basketball games when the gym is empty, odd noises and smells?’ When I asked how he handled it, Cliff said no one had been hurt by any of the manifestations so far and he didn’t see that changing in the near future. So I stuck with it.”

  “At least your breaks were undisturbed after you moved,” commented The Natural.

  “I wish!” Chris said. “Now I would be sitting in my truck on my break and suddenly get the feeling that someone was staring at me… very intently. You know that uncanny feeling that makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up?” Both of the girls quietly nodded, listening intently. Chris continued, “No one was in front of the truck or on either side. Then, in my rearview mirror, I saw someone standing behind my truck. When I opened my door and stepped out, they ran around the other side of the truck and ducked out of sight. I readied my can of mace and walked around the back of the truck to the passenger’s side. Five feet away from my truck whoever it was was descending a set of non-existent stairs where there was nothing but solid, flat asphalt. Only its head and shoulders were above the asphalt and in five more seconds the top of its head had vanished from view. This happened four different times before I switched parking spots again. “

  “Did moving help this time?” asked The Natural quietly.

  “Not really,” replied Chris, as they arrived at the exit. “No matter where I parked, there was some kind of weirdness. It’s just that some were less disturbing than others. You just pick the ones you can live with and avoid the others. Needless to say, I called my friend up, apologized and told him the school was haunted.”

  “So why did you leave Miranda High?” asked Santa, speaking for the first time.

  Unwanted, the memories flowed, even though Chris said nothing. He visibly paled as he remembered how Old Cliff had taken to parking in the territory of the rear-end lurker who vanished down the non-existent stairs. As the other guards noticed his health begin to decline, Old Cliff insisted he felt fine. Then one night, Old Cliff vanished! His car was parked in its usual spot and five feet out from the passenger side door, they found Old Cliff’s empty guard uniform, with his wallet and keys, and shoes in a heap, like Old Cliff had walked down a flight of non-existent stairs, but his clothes hadn’t been able to follow him. The next day, Chris had handed his supervisor his letter of resignation, saying, “Transfer me or I resign. I can’t work at Miranda High another night!”

  Blinking his eyes rapidly to banish some pending tears, Chris shrugged and said, “This position opened up and I took it. Bottom line – stay away from Miranda High School! If you have kids, make sure they attend somewhere else!”

  “For sure!” declared Waldo.

  “Thanks for the warning!” said The Natural.

  Chris nodded and said, “This mall is perfectly safe. There is no weirdness anywhere on the grounds. It is a real pleasure to be working here!” After unhooking the correct key, Chris looked each of them in the eye and said conspiratorially, “This conversation never happened. If asked, I will deny everything!”

  Suddenly, the temperature dropped. Chris felt the hairs on the back of his neck start to rise as Santa nodded knowingly and said, “I understand completely. In fact, we were never here.” At those words all three of them vanished completely into thin air!

  “What the…???” exclaimed Jorge in disbelief as he jumped to his feet. He stared at the monitor as the three disappeared as suddenly as blown out candles. He watched as the key fell from Chris’ nerveless hand one way and his unconscious body fell the opposite way. Lost on Jorge was the fact the key and Chris hit the floor at the same time proving that, whatever else was awry, The Law of Falling Bodies was still functioning.

  Good Buy

  Well, there you have it - the 8-Bit Pulp preview. Normally, when you buy one of our pulp magazines in print, there are comics, pin-up models, and so much more. We did our very best to make these magazines full, like a pulp magazine from the 1930's. Now, I have a duty to you, the fine, attractive, young reader that you are. That is to inform you that volume four will be available September 30th through our very first Kick Starter. You can fallow us on twitter at @destinycomics, or on Facebook, at facebook/8bitpulp and facebook/destinycomics. You can find us on youtube as well, with youtube/destinycomics. So please follow us and stay tuned for updates on our Kick Starter.

  Also available from Destiny Comics Publishing

  Da Captain and the legend of the Highway Man

  8 Bit Pulp

  Mr. Cuddles

  Tales of Destiny

  The Terrifyingly Gruesome Tales of Horror

 
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