No Gein III: The Final Cut, Part 11

Epilogue: A Happy Ending

Hollywood California 2010

“What do you mean they won’t let me have a tank!?!”

“The studio doesn’t want to pay for it.” said the female voice over the phone.

“But it’s in the script!” the director insisted, “the script you and I both wrote by the way.”

“Yes, we did.” The woman agreed.

“If I don’t have a tank, how am I supposed to film the finale?”

“Listen, let me take care of tomorrow, you get today in the can. Deal?”

“Deal. Thanks Rita.”

The director heard a knock as he hung up the phone. “Enter!” he jubilantly said, expecting it to be his 11:00 appointment. As a result, hhe was surprised to see his head makeup artist come into the room with a devil head and a fake piece of glass.

“You look a little frazzled,” the director asked, noticing her facial expression, “everything OK?”

“This glass prop is not working.” the young woman complained. “I’ve been working on it all morning.” Today’s shooting schedule involved a scene where a character named Tommy stabs the Devil with a shard of glass. He wanted as little CGI effects as possible, and knew his young makeup artist shared his love of practical effects.

“Well, let’s have a look at it after lunch OK?” he said. “I got an interview coming soon.”

“Alright.” she said meekly.

“We’ll get it sorted Stella, don’t kill yourself over it.”

“Really?” She said, half laughing at the director’s remark.

Laughing himself, realizing what he’d just said, the director waved his hand and said, “Just go have a nice lunch ya weirdo.”

The director’s appointment still hadn’t arrived, so, sitting in his trailer, he opened his laptop and logged into Myspace. Being in the public eye, the director recalled a conversation he recently had with his Rita, his producer. Interacting with fans on these platforms was cool, but there were downsides too, toxic fans, flame wars, even the occasional death threat. Some sins he himself committed on small obscure message boards years ago were so much more intense on places like Myspace and Facebook, where seemingly everyone was now.

Again, there were of course positives to it as well. Scrolling through his Myspace feed, he smiled as he saw a movie studio picture of his friends Dan and Vicki. Vicki was directing her third film now. George left a comment on this post kidding that she poached his makeup artist from him, referring to Vicki’s husband Dan.

Another knock at the door shifted the director’s focus. A man walked in with a notebook, a press badge, and a corny joke. “You’re not going to shoot me with a water gun are you?”

“Man, I’m never gonna live that one down.” George said, laughing.

The next hour was spent discussing the last few turbulent years of George Kohler’s life. After a self-imposed exile following the death of his sister, George was on the road to a comeback via his next feature film. George and the journalist were on the set of Freddy vs the Devil vs Ash: The Nightmare Warriors, the final film in a trilogy that mixed the Nightmare on Elm Street franchise with Evil Dead and, George’s favorite, Friday the 13^th.

“Do you find it difficult working on violent movies after the personal losses you’ve had in your family?” the journalist asked.

“You know, I can understand why people would think that, but honestly, it’s been really cathartic. I’ve put a lot of my own grief and loss into these characters.”

“The characters of Freddy and the Jersey Devil?”

“No, actually,” George paused for a moment before continuing, “well, I guess the news broke already, so I’ll just say it. We’re bringing back a lot of the surviving characters from past Friday the 13^th and Nightmare on Elm Street movies. People love the Jersey Devil and Freddy, but I want to show the strength of the people who survived these monsters.”

“That’s no small task you’ve set for yourself. Is this film also a catharsis for you and the fact that your sister’s murderer was never found?”

This question took George back to that cold night in Planfield. He could hear his shovel hitting the hard earth, his breath forming a cloud before him, the stench of death about. “I wouldn’t say that.” George answered quietly. “There’s a lot of things I could say, but I don’t know, I feel like no one ever gets away with anything, you know what I mean?”

“Well said.” The reporter responded. “Relating to that, characters like Freddy and Pinhead have their fans, but so do real murders like Charles Manson and Jeffrey Dhamer. Do you have any comment on that?”

“You’re right they do, and I don’t blame people who have an interest in true crime. When you look back at what happened to my sister, and to my dad, and as far back as my Aunt; all three of those situations were so crazy. If I were on the outside looking in, even now, I’d look at any of those situations and be like ‘Whoa,’ what the hell happened there?” I’d naturally want to know more about it. The difference is, I wouldn’t look at these murders and think “that’s my guy. Ed Gein wasn’t a hero. Milton wasn’t a hero. The guy who killed my sister wasn’t a hero.”

Luckily, the entertainment reporter overlooked that little slip George just made. That oversight didn’t stop George’s heart from racing in his chest as soon as those words shot out of his body,. His body tensed, waiting the next question, but as the reporter’s lips moved, George’s ears blocked out the sound. Remembering those relaxation exercises Franki taught him so long ago, George breathed slow deep breathes; his eyes focused on the blue press bade hanging from the reporter’s shirt.

“You did say in past interviews,” George refocused as the reporter repeated their question, “that in your younger days you were a fan of serial killers.”

George waited, still remaining silent, remembering those days from so long ago. In times long past he would dress up like the Zodiac killer and other famous murders, but those days were far behind him now. “Yes, I did.” George said, now fully present in the moment and focusing directly on the reporter. “I used to think serial killers were cool, but you know what’s cool, the people that survived them.”

The End

No Gein III: The Final Cut, Part Seven

Chapter Seven: The Shower

Customer: Bartender, what’s a Gein beer?

Bartender: It’s got lots of body, but no head.

Why did Ed Gein always have the heat on in his house?

So, his furniture wouldn’t get goosebumps.

November 2nd 2004

George hated to admit it, but that last one was pretty funny. While surfing the web looking at various horror sites, George stumbled upon an Angelfire page called the Ed Gein Appreciation Zine. While George wasn’t appreciative of the adoration expressed towards this deranged individual that terrorized his Aunt, he was impressed with the thoroughness of site’s information. He knew, had circumstances been different, he himself would have designed a site like this. What little information about Gein’s life, as well as his grave robbing and apparent murder of Mary Hogan were all covered in gruesome detail. Of course, much of the site’s information was “borrowed” from Kohler’s own book Deranged, which detailed the personal and disturbing story of how George came to learn the secret to his Aunt’s madness.  

However, there were a few original essays, such as one comparing Gein to Norman Bates, the character from Psycho, as well as Gein’s influence on George’s Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Reading the article about Chainsaw, George chuckled to himself as he remembered how people falsely assumed that his remake took inspiration from Jeffrey Dahmer.

Then there were these Geiners, morbid jokes about Ed that were all the rage now. While he couldn’t help but have some respect for the gallow’s humor, what was not amusing was a section of the website that directed it’s ire towards George himself. “George Kohler is a fucking pussbag.” read the page titled No Gein Movie? “He’s had the greatest story in the history of modern horror fall right into his lap and that fucking tool won’t act on it. The fat lazy fuck is sitting at home counting his millions while the greatest horror movie ever goes unmade.” George shook his head as he wiped the sweat still hanging off his brow. Just before he sat down at the computer, he was working out on his bowflex machine. Taking a sip of water, he continued reading. “Kohler owes it to us fans. Let him know we demand our Ed Gein movie.” Then one of George’s personal email addresses was listed below for the world to see.

“Ah shit, I guess I’ll have to close that account now.” George thought to himself. It was a shame too, because he used this particular email to talk to fans. Opening this email account, he scrolled through hundreds of messages, most of which had clever subject titles like Make that Gein Movie or Die or Gein Film or Bust. Messages like “advice for breaking into the film business,” or honest fan questions about his films were now few and far between. While this was certainly annoying, George was able to brush it off. He remembered himself firing off angry messages in Friday the 13^th forums, especially toward the director of Friday the 13^th Part Five, The New Horns. It was embarrassing now to think he had acted like these trolls once. Perhaps it was some form of Kharmic justice.

The wanderings of George’s mind were interrupted by the ringing of his flip phone.  “Is this my famous director brother?” the familiar voice said on the other end.

“Well, I think I’m still famous.” George answered his sister as he looked back at the monitor and its angry emails. “Though looking at some of the online chatter its maybe more infamous.”

His sister Helen laughed as she said, “Well I hope you’re not too famous to join us for Thanksgiving.”

“Oh, I’ll definitely be in for that.” George assured her. “Sorry I couldn’t see you after Hallow-con, I had to fly back to LA and sort shit out for Psycho III. Also, big news,” his voice raised in excitement as he rapidly spoke, “something opened up at Paramount. Tomorrow, I got a meeting about maybe directing the next Friday the 13^th film, Freddy vs the Devil vs Ash!”

“Wow, that’s awesome!” Helen was well aware of her brothers life-long love of the Friday the 13^th franchise. The two of them spent many a night watching them on TV when they were kids. Their father even once took them on a camping trip in New Jersey to look for the legendary Jersey Devil. “You’ve been waiting for this for so long. I’m sure you’re gonna do great.”

“I hope so.” George said humbly.

“Well, you’ll have to let me know how it went over Turkey.”

“Sure thing. How’s the Chuckster?”

“He’s good. He’s just hanging out watching TV now.” Helen then looked to her husband, who she saw looking out the window. From outside she could hear their dog barking as the sun set behind the homes across the street. “What’s wrong hon?”

“I don’t’ know, the dog’s acting up.” George heard her brother in law Charles say. “Probably barking at the skateboarders again.”

The dog’s barking then stopped as Helen said, “Anyway, I’ll see you soon. I’m real proud of you.”

“Thanks Helen. You know I’m proud of you too.” Hanging up the phone, George closed the window of his email and started began to work.  

Opening a word document, he began jotting down ideas for Freddy vs the Devil vs Ash. The Necronomicon, was a good place to start. That mysterious and evil book which originally appeared in the prose of H.P. Lovecraft before being used in the Evil Dead series was a natural fit to tie the three franchises together. Maybe Ash Williams, the Deadite slaying hero of the Evil Dead series from the evil dead series would work at the Crystal Lake S-Mart, the fictional equivalent of Wall-Mart. George then typed out random ideas for how the Freddy, the Devil, and Ash would interact. Maybe Freddy could use the Necronomicon to bring back the Devil’s past victims as Dead-ites, the creatures of the Evil Dead series.

Even cooler, he thought to himself, would be if the surviving characters from Friday the 13^th and Nightmare on Elm Street would appear, such as Friday’s Tina Shepard and Nightmare’s Alice Johnson. This could be the horror equivalent of Crisis on Infinite Earths, the epic DC Comics story from 20 years prior which featured pretty much every DC comics character. George leaned back and stopped himself for a moment. He remembered his departed mentor Robert Bloch, advising him against over-stuffing his stories. “A good story is like a good recipe.” He recalled Bloch telling him. “Too much stuff can ruin it, just stick with what you need.” Still, he felt really intrigued about this idea of surviving characters from past films. Who knows, maybe this idea could be in the next sequel? Yet again, George knew to restrain himself. Knowing how Hollywood works, he was aware of the dangers of getting too far ahead of himself. He knew to take things one movie at a time.

“You know I’m proud of you too.”

Helen felt glad to hear that from her brother as she hung up the phone. “I’m going to take a shower.” she said to her husband as she felt the cool November breeze blowing into their house. “Chuck?” she said as she looked out the open door. She didn’t hear the dog barking anymore, but she didn’t see her husband either. She figured he probably went to talk to the neighbors and closed the door behind her making sure it was unlocked.

In the safe comfort of her shower, she thought about how the relationship between her and her brother had grown stronger over the last few years. They were close as young kids, spending afternoons playing outside and watching monster movies at night. Once they moved east, their teenage years found them drifting apart, especially when he developed that massive ego. Strangely enough, fame seemed to have made George humble. Well, there were other reasons too. Especially since their father died, that was so hard on both of them, not to mention how bizarre and macabre that whole situation was. “Be careful in the shower.” Helen hated remembered the dying words of her father, rambling and nonsensical in his final moments. While lost in thought, the steam from the shower formed a fog around Helen as her mind wandered to that place where she was still bitter; resentful that her father had been taken from then so soon, just a few years after they’d all grown closer as a family. At the very least, she was appreciative of George, who often took the time out of his busy schedule to check on how she and Chuck were doing.

What she didn’t know was that Chuck wasn’t doing well, not anymore. His body now rested in the bushes and wouldn’t be found until the next day. As she’d drifted in that mental fog, she didn’t hear the light footprints enter her bathroom. She did hear the shower curtain pull back, and she heard herself scream as the knife plunged into her body. She had no idea who Franklin was, but as her brother’s stalker repeatedly plunged his steel into her, she knew his face would be the last thing she ever saw.

George’s head was swimming with the possibilities of another sequel to these franchises. Taking a break from his brainstorming, he closed the window on his word document to find his Firefox web browser still open. It was then he noticed something on that Gein fansite hadn’t noticed before. Clicking on ‘Gein Today,’ he uncovered some more recent and gruesome news. According to this page, Gein apparently now had a copy-cat. In Plainfield Wisconsin, where Ed resided and is buried, someone dug up several graves, apparently the same graves Gein himself violated half a century prior. A jepeg file of the local newspaper clippings seemingly confirmed this crime to be true. Adding a gruesome showman ship to the foul acts, a color photo, separate from the newspaper clipping showed some of the remains were laid out on the cemetery grass in such a way that they spelled out a word, one word. Ed. Even worse than that, the bodies of two youths, a young couple that just graduated high school, were found murdered in the cemetery. The webmaster of this morbid site seemed to take particular delight in describing the tragic death of what seemed like a bright and beautiful young girl.

“Enough of that.” George thought to himself, clicking on the X closing that awful window. He didn’t feel much better as he again checked his email to find even more messages from demented fans demanding a Gein movie. His mouse clicked on the small boxes as he prepared to delete them, but one message caught his eye. ‘Your pretty sister.’ the subject read. “What the fuck? Not cool messing with family.” he thought to himself as he clicked on the message. Text at the top indicated this was a follow up to an earlier message. “I’m warning you.” The older message read. “If a Gein movie is not in development by Horror-con, your family will pay.” George hadn’t recalled seeing this message before. He probably deleted it on sight just as he had most of these crazy messages. But the new email below sent a chill through his spine as it read. “You’d been warned.” Below the text were a series of icons indicating this email contained several images that would soon be visible.

George grew cold as the Jpeg files loaded on his monitor. He recognized that house, that home that he’d plan to visit in just a few weeks, the dining room where he planned to cut the Thanksgiving Turkey, the TV they would watch football on. George quickly grabbed his phone and speed dialed Helen. The phone kept ringing as image after image of Helen’s home loaded on the screen. Scrolling down the email, the trail of jpeg files led up Helen’s steps, down the hallway, and finally, through the bathroom door. George almost vomited at the site of the red streaks staining the shower curtains. Finally, the last agonizing image loaded. There, laying in the tub, naked and violated, was George’s sister Helen.

No Gein III: The Final Cut, Part Four

Chapter Four: That First Kiss

Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Spring 2007

It was her second semester living at the Milwaukee Institute of Art and Design and she was loving it. The weather was warm again as she sat at a park bench in Catalano Square across the street from her campus. It was there that she heard a voice ask, “That’s Mushroomhead right?” The girl looked up to see another student pointing at her shirt.

Her head nodded and a little smile escaped her lips as she looked up. She had seen this guy around campus but didn’t know his name. Aside from his shoulder length reddish hair, he looked a bit like Jim Carrey from Ace Ventura.

“Cool, I saw them at The Rave last year. Ever go there?” This time she nodded her head no, as the man immediately went to his next question. “So, do you like horror movies?”

“Why?” she asked nervously.

“Just asking.” He then extended his hand as if closing a formal business deal, saying, “I’m Jonathan.”

“Not Larry?” she replied, leaving his hand hanging in the air. Over a Spiderman shirt Jonathan wore a brown collared top with a ‘Patticoni Printing’ label stitched on its right breast and the name “Larry” embroidered above it.

Jonathan looked down at his shirt with a mischievous smirk. “Oh, I just wear these for fun.” He then asked, “So, I heard you’re a horror fan?”

“Yeah, sometimes.” she answered as she wondered why this guy was talking to her.

Jonathan then mimicked the voice of the Ghost Face Killer from the Scream series, asking, “What’s your favorite scary movie?”

The girl leaned back on the bench, startled by the wicked gleam in his eye while his right hand mimicked holding a telephone, but, seeing her reaction, his expression immediately changed. “Oh, sorry, just kidding,” he said, holding his hand up, palm facing towards her. “Don’t mace me.”

Still leaning back cautiously, she did manage to relax a little as he asked her “Have you seen the new Freddy, Devil, Ash movie yet?”

“No, not yet.” She answered as she perked up. She was interested in this sequel to Freddy vs the Devil, the crossover film between Nightmare on Elm Street and Friday the 13^th. This entry added another franchise to the mix with Ash, the lead character of the Evil Dead series.

“Well,” it sounded like Jonathan’s wall of confidence shook for just for a moment as he spat it out. “I’m off work Friday but I have to work Saturday so I was wondering if you’d like to see a movie with me Friday?” His words ran out of his mouth like a runaway train going down the tracks. It was as though had his words not escaped at that exact moment they would have been trapped, forever stalled at the train station of his dreams.

“Yes.” She felt her eyes widen as her own single word emerged, expressing shock that her vocal cords even formed the sound of that word before her brain even considered it.

“Groovy!” Jonathan said, now mimicking Ash from the Evil Dead. “Hey,” Jonathan’s voice was once again confident and energetic as he suggested, “wouldn’t it be fun if we were in costume? I’m gonna go as Ash.”

“Ok.” She never dreamed of dressing up for a movie before, but it sounded fun.

“You live in the Two50Two building right?” Stella nodded, indicating that was correct. A few exceptions aside, all full time Freshman and Sophomore students were required to live in the Two50Two building.

“Great, I’ll meet you in front of Two50Two, let’s say at five fifty-five?” Jonathan beamed with pride at the corny word pun he just made.

Stella rolled her eyes but said “OK.”

“Awesome.” He grinned at her in triumph. Then, his eyes darted about before he said. “Oh, I suppose you should know who you’re going with.” Extending his hand as if closing a formal business deal, he, “I’m Jonathan.”

“Not Larry?” she replied, leaving his hand hanging in the air. Over a Spiderman shirt Jonathan wore a brown collared top with a ‘Patticoni Printing’ label stitched on its right breast and the name “Larry” embroidered above it.

Jonathan looked down at his shirt with a mischievous smirk. “Oh, I just wear these for fun. My name really is Jonathan.” Reaching for his wallet he said, “I can show you my id if you want!”

“That’s OK.” the girl said, laughing. He couldn’t tell if he was joking or if he was actually serious, but it was cute either way.

Then, pointing at her, he said, “And you’re Stella, right.”

“Right.” she blushed, it hadn’t occurred to her to share her name.

“Ok great. So, see you Friday?”

“Sure.”

“Alright, smell ya later!” Jonathan said as he strutted away.

That Friday Stella’s doormats helped her get her cos-play ready. Jonathan was going as Ash. The Jersey Devil of the Friday the 13^th series was a full body suit, which seemed too daunting at this short notice. Hence, Stella would go as Freddy. Amber, one of her dorm mates, lent Stella her black and red sweater that resembled that of the horror villain’s. Stella pulled it over her and saw it fit well while Raina, another dorm mate, helped her with her makeup. After a coat of face paint, Stella appeared to have been horribly burned, just like the character she was cos playing. Tucking her long blonde hair under a black hat, it felt uncanny as she looked in the mirror and saw Freddy Krueger staring back at her.

“There’s just one thing missing!” her other dorm mate Michelle excitedly said. As Michelle approached it appeared she was delicately holding something in her hands. Stella’s disfigured appearing face cracked a smile that glowed through her make up as Michelle presented her a brown leather glove with plastic extensions protruding from the fingers mimicking Freddy’s claws. “I got this last Halloween, but you can have it.”

“Aww, thanks Michelle.” Stella said as she pulled the glove over her slender hand.

The girls collectively looked at Stella’s reflection in the full body mirror and were in amazed at the transformation. Looking over her slender figure, Amber said. “That is one fine Freddy!”

Waiting outside the dorms her outlook darkened as the sun began to dip, its last rays reaching out over the Milwaukee River. She got a few stares from people passing by. Some were startled, others expressed concern as they glanced her seemingly charred face. Stella wondered if anyone even got who she was supposed to be. Stella looked at her watch, it was five fifty-four. As a cool April breeze blew by and the stares continued from passerby’s, she wondered if all of this was such a good idea.

“Hail to the king baby!” Just in the nick of time, Stella heard Jonathan’s booming voice. He confidently walked toward her dressed in a long sleeved buttoned-down blue top. As he drew closer, she noticed the “Shop smart, shop S-Mart,” patch stitched into the shirt. Naturally, the name ‘Ash’ was embroidered above it. Like her, he also bore a costumed glove resembling a metal gauntlet.

“Wow, you look amazing!” He said as he saw her scarred face and her own gloved hand.

“Thanks.” she said, looking over herself, almost forgetting her costume. Then, noticing Jonathan was carrying a small backpack, she asked, “What’s that for.”

“Oh, that’s something for later.” He answered as he raised his costumed fist up where she met him with a light fist bump. She smiled as their costumed hands connected. Just for a moment, it felt electric. In the movies Freddy wasn’t slim, and actor Bruce Campbell didn’t have long reddish hair, but here, on this night, these two were perfect just as they were.

They made small talk on the bus to the theater. Jonathan did most of the talking actually, prattling on about his classes and such. Getting off the bus near the Avalon Atmospheric Theater, Stella felt a pit in her stomach as a small crowd gathered at the entrance. Some patrons were even dressed up like they were. “Just a minute.” Jonathan said as Stella faced the theater. Jonathan stopped to open his backpack from which he pulled out a toy shotgun, the handle of which appeared to have been removed. He rolled up the blue sleeve of his gloved hand and, via a contraption on his prop gun attached the barrel to his limb, making it appear not that his hand was holding the gun, but that his hand was the gun. “My boom stick!” Jonathan proudly proclaimed.

Stella covered her made up face with her own gloved hand, nearly poking herself with the plastic extensions as she giggled. “Oh my god, you’re nuts.”

Approaching the crowd in front of the theater, Stella pulled the brim of her hat down in an attempt to hide her face as the sound of clicking cameras surrounded them. She stood close to Jonathan, moving slightly behind him as he gallantly posed for pictures spouting Bruce Campbell quotes. She couldn’t believe this guy. In a way, he looked ridiculous, but he relished every moment.

After Jonathan bought tickets for the two of them, they entered the lobby to find a few others in costume. Stella was surprised to see a few people actually made full body costumes to dress up as Friday the 13^th’s Jersey Devil. Random other monsters were there too, including the werewolf from Halloween Six, Pinhead, and a few other Freddy’s. One cos-player got her attention, it was a character who had quite an impact on her life. There before her, in a fairly accurate costume, was Saw-Man. She instantly zoned out while watching the lead villain from Texas Chainsaw Massacre , not hearing anything around her.

“I said, are you supposed to be Freddy Krueger?” A condescending voice snapped her back to the theater, where in front of her stood a bald obese man with his own chocolate stained unbuttoned S-mart shirt staring at her. Through his thick glasses his eyes looked her over disapprovingly. “Freddy Krueger is supposed to be jacked!” Stella looked down, her eyes avoiding the fanboy and focused on her own slim figure.

Jonathan came to her side and interjected. “Hey, what movie was that where Ash had a giant beer gut?” he quipped, pointing to the man’s belly. Stella let out a small chuckle but still avoided eye contact.

“Whatever.” the man said, walking away dismissively.

“Don’t let that asshole bother you.” Stella heard another male voice say. “You look great!”

“Thanks.” Stella said as her gaze moved upward away from the floor where she saw another large but more fit man with short peroxide blonde hair.

“But I have to tell you something.” the man said. “The Devil wants his rematch.”

The best of the Devil cos-players lumbered towards her. His claws extended outwards, and his fang filled jaw hissed at Stella who stood motionless. She wasn’t scared, she was amazed. The level of detail in this costume was awe inspiring. She couldn’t even dream of being talented enough to make something like this. “Do you mind if I get a picture with you?” The Devil cos-player asked.

“That’d be awesome.” Jonathan answered for her as he took his own camera out of his backpack. The two horror villains faced off in the theater lobby. Stella held up her pretend bladed glove, but her face was blank, her makeup simply hung expressionless on her face.

After a snap of the camera Jonathan interjected. “Come on Stella show some ferocity. You’re the stuff of nightmares!” he said standing next to her mimicking her own pose as he coached. “Here, like this.” Jonathan hissed and glared at the devil with a fierce stare.

Stella’s lips parted, her teeth slightly protruded foreword as she posed for another picture.

“That’s better, now put some snarl into it!” Jonathan said stepping away.

Stella’s lips slid further apart, her eyes widened and her arms tensed as her gloved hand remained pointed to her fictional opponent. Out of the corner of her eye she could see she’d drawn some attention. Other people stopped and were taking pictures of her. Among the picture takers she could see that obnoxious fanboy walking away. It was then that, somewhere within her, an intensity emerged. Feelings long smothered, shamed and shunned, rose from her within her guts, up through her lungs and out of her vocal cords. From her lips sprung horrifying hiss that scared the Devil himself.

“Beautiful baby beautiful.” Jonathan clapped in approval. Stella’s gloved hand shook as it returned to her side as she wondered if those around her were as startled as she was of what had just come out of her.

“Thanks a million.” The older man said. The lobby lights flashed indicating the real show was about to begin. Turning to Jonathan the older man asked the three co-splayers, “Mind if I get a quick one with the three of you?”

Stella’s hands were still shaking, but she managed a deep relaxing breath as she felt Jonathan place his arm around her. The Devil stood happily to her side, as there would be no posing for this photo. The three cos-players smiled as if the characters they portrayed were all best friends.

As the theater grew dark the first trailer began. The lullaby “Hush Little Baby Don’t Say a Word” was softy sung by an older woman as the audience witnessed scenes of a desolate landscape. “What is this?” Jonathan asked. Once that whirring sound effect hit, Stella, as well as others in the audience, knew instantly. “Every Legend,” the chalk white text read on the screen followed by shots of R. Lee Ermey of ‘Full Metal Jacket’ fame playing the patriarch of a family of maniacs. ‘has a beginning.’ The text concluded, as a group of young people are dispatched while cries of terror came from both the silver screen and the in theater audience.

“It’s Chainsaw.” Stella answered before the logo emblazoned the screen. Texas Chainsaw Massacre: The Beginning was a prequel to the 2003 remake of the cult 70’s hit. This franchise was all too familiar to Stella, as it accidentally played a crucial role in the young girl’s life.

Once the feature presentation began, the crowd cheered wildly at the title screen. Stella had never experienced theater goers cheering for a movie before. Looking around at the enthusiastic fans, she saw that older man sitting with his Devil costumed friend. The cos-player clapped his clawed hands, but the other man sat still in his seat. In fact, as the light glowed on his face, it looked like he had shed a tear. “He must really be a big fan.” she thought to herself as the movie began.

After the show Stella sat in a comfortable chair. Her hands wrapped around the ceramic mug as she felt the heat from the java in her hands. A few bookshelves and paintings covered the walls. Stella hadn’t been to the Emporium before, but Jonathan seemed familiar with the place. The staff knew him when he walked in, and thought nothing of his shotgun arm prop, never mind his date walking in looking like a burn victim.

“That was so cool when Freddy used the Necronomicon to bring back the past Friday the 13^th victims as Deadites.” Stella agreed with her date as she sipped her steaming drink. Jonathan then asked, “Did you like it?”

“Yeah, it was awesome.”

“Think they’ll do another one?” Jonathan asked before sipping his own drink.

“I don’t know. It’d be cool if they did.”

“Yeah, lots of crossover films coming out.” Jonathan began to prattle on again. “Last year was Aliens vs Predator. Tonight was Freddy, the Devil and Ash, next year is Helloween.” Smirking he then asked, “Hey what are you doing next year? Would you want to go see that one with me?”

Stella grinned at Jonathan as she detected zero sarcasm in his question. “Well, I don’t know, let me check my calendar.” she motioned with her hands, mimicking opening an imaginary date book. “Helloween,” she asked, “don’t you mean Halloween?”

“No, Helloween. That will be a crossover between Hellraiser and Halloween.” Jonathan explained. “The cool thing about this is they’re bringing back Michael Meyers from the first two Halloweens.” Jonathan’s eyes then diverted upwards, he always looked like his mind was going a mile a minute. “I wonder if they’ll bring any other characters from the rest of the series.” He thought out loud. After Halloween II, series creator John Carpenter turned the franchise into an anthology, with each subsequent entry standing on its own. “The Wraith from part four would be interesting to see, so would the Werewolf from part six. I don’t know if Halloween H20 would fit though.” He then mimicked the impossibly deep voice of Sylvester Stallone, the washed up 80’s actor who starred in the 1998 Halloween entry in a desperate attempt to resurrect his career. “We’ll tear your soul apart!” Stella laughed again as Jonathan recited the famous line from the first Hellraiser in an 80’s action hero voice. Finally turning his attention back to his date, he asked “Are you a fan of the series?”

“Not so into Hellraiser.” Stella said, then, without thinking, she went on to say, “My sister and I went to see H20.”

“Oh, you have a sister.” Jonathan asked, “What is she doing?”

His face then grew puzzled by the awkward silence. It finally ended with, “My sister, um, uh, she died.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” Jonathan sounded genuinely upset to hear this. He looked almost panicked, as if he’d unwittingly lit a fire in the woods. Almost at a whisper he asked, “What happened?”

“It was a drunk driving accident.” Stella revealed. “She got in a car with her drunk boyfriend, so…” finishing her story with a simple shrug of her shoulders.

“That’s terrible.”

In that moment he looked like he needed more comforting than she did as she reached across the table to squeeze his hand. “Thanks.” she said. It felt good holding his hand, his skin was warm and comforting.

Pulling her hand back she heard Jonathan say, “Well don’t worry, I don’t drink and drive, in fact I don’t even drink!”

“Oh, so we’re not going to the frat party after this?” Now, for the first time the whole evening, Jonathan was at a loss for words.

“I’m just kidding,” Stella laughed like she hadn’t laughed in a long time, “I don’t drink either!”

Jonathan himself laughed a sigh of relief as he held up his cup of mocha boasting, “Alright then, well, to not drinking!”

“To not drinking!” She toasted him back.

After they both took another sip of their beverages Jonathan looked around at the surrounding bookshelves and suggested “Well, since we’re not getting black out drunk tonight, want to look at some books?”

As they browsed, Stella saw both old and new books resting on the wooden bookcases. “Ever go to North Carolina?” It seemed like such a random question, but that didn’t surprise Stella at this point. She looked to see Jonathan in the travel section looking at a title that read ‘Islands at the Edge of Time.’ Jonathan explained, “I went their with my cousins one summer. This guy wrote a book about the islands on the outer banks that way. Cool stuff.”

Stella turned back to the shelf in front of her to find an old beat-up paperback. Movie Monsters by Alan Ormsby had the image of Frankenstein and the Wolfman on its blue cover. It was a book for kids, but as she thumbed through it with her left hand, she was curious to find a few pages covering monster makeup.

“Oh, I heard about this book.” Jonathan sounded really excited and as Stella turned to find him in front of the New Release shelf. The book he held bore an image of Saw-man, and the title, emblazoned in big white letters read ‘Psycho: A Tale of, Madness, Murder, and the Disappearance of George Kohler.’

Holding the hardback up, Jonathan said, “This guy directed that other Chainsaw movie.”

Noticing the subtitle, ‘the Disappearance of George Kohler, she wondered, “Oh, what happened to him?”

“Who knows.” Jonathan said as he placed the book back on the shelf. “I guess that’s what the book’s about.”

Stella immediately snatched the book back off the shelf. Removing her prop glove and placing it in her coat pocket, her fingers quickly perused the pages. She didn’t notice Jonathan wander over to the thriller section. She didn’t see him point to a few hardcovers, and only half heard him as he asked, “Ever read Robert Bloch?” Stella was too focused on the tome in front of her to answer, but Jonathan added regardless. “He was one of my favorites. Did you know he went to high school right here in Milwaukee?”

Stella hadn’t even heard the question as she closed the book and stared at its cover price. “Tell you what,” she now heard Johnathan say, “I’ll buy that for you, and you tell me where George is.”

“Really?” She looked up to his eyes as she asked.

“Sure, save’s me the trouble of reading it myself. “ He then gave that odd chuckle she’d already got used to hearing. “Besides,” Jonathan boasted as he pulled a small business card from his wallet. “I get the membership discount.” He then made a clicking sound with his mouth and winked at her.

Stella burst into laughter at Jonathan’s mannerisms. “You’re adorable.” she said as she placed the book into his hands.

On the bus back to campus, Stella clung to the Emporium bag in her hand, anxious to read her newly owned book. Looking out the window she noticed a few familiar superhero logos, along with some she was not as familiar with.

“Ever read comics?” Stella wondered how many girls Jonathan asked that question too. She also wondered how many of them said ‘yes’. “No, not really.” She answered as she remembered her friend Megan. ‘She would have liked a store like that’, she thought to herself as she added. “I knew a girl in high school that liked them. I liked the X-men movies, those were cool.”

“Awesome, well if you ever want to check out some comics. I’ll take you there sometime.”

“Um, ok.” she said, looking back down at her bag.

 Soon their stop came. The pair got off the bus and Jonathan walked her to the Two50Two building and said, “Well, I got an all day shift tomorrow so I’m gonna drop you off here, OK?”

Stella shook her head ‘yes’ thinking to herself how she wished this night would never end. Jonathan then told her, “I had a really good time tonight.”

Earlier in the evening, when Stella stood at this same spot, she was unsure how this evening would be. She wasn’t sure if going out in this costume to meet this guy was even a good idea. Now she stood in front of her new home, having had one of the best nights she could ever remember. “I did too.” She told Jonathan. “Thanks.”

Jonathan slowly reached his arms towards her, his fingers slightly trembled as they brushed her hair. Throughout the evening Jonathan projected an aura of confidence, but there periodic moments like this where he was exposed as being just as nervous as she was. Stella brought herself closer to him as their arms gently wrapped around each other. She felt his head turn towards her. Through her makeup she could still feel his lips brush her cheek, where she heard the gentle sound of his lips part. She couldn’t wait anymore, bringing her mouth to his she heard him inhale, as if he were honestly surprised to be getting kissed himself. His lips were warm and moist, and just for a moment she felt the tip of her tongue on his. It was simple, magical, and perfect just the way it was.

The evening ended with her whisper. “Good night.”