Watch Party
Look Behind You!
A green, long-fingered hand rose from the festering muck. Ginger Richards, her wedding dress half torn away from her shaking frame, half smothered in mud, screamed. Ally laughed as the Swamp Man dragged himself onto shore, half-heartedly swiping at Ginger’s feet. Ginger stumbled back and collapsed in fright, stretching her mouth wide. The camera lingered on her distorted face as the orchestra rushed to the peak of its crescendo. Ally got up to cook more popcorn.
“Can you grab me a beer?” Josie asked.
“Me too, please,” Grant yelled over the Swamp Man’s snarls. “A sour if there are any left.”
“I got you.”
The bag of pre-buttered popcorn ballooned in the microwave, adding erratic percussion to the film’s swelling strings. It made the movie, an old knockoff of Creature from the Black Lagoon, feel even less real. Ally snorted as the Swamp Man’s mask slipped. When he kissed Ginger, Ally could see black mustache hairs poking between his green-painted lips and the fake scales on his face.
The credits were rolling by the time Ally settled back onto the couch between Zack and Lucy. Zack rested his hand on Ally’s knee as she snuggled into his side. She loved nestling in the soft warmth of his cable knit sweater.
“What’s next?” Grant asked. “Shriek 1 or Shriek: the Return?”
Lucy flicked a piece of popcorn at him.
“What was that for?”
“I told you I’m tired of Shriek films.”
“We are not watching Bloodlust. It’s too corny.”
“The Swamp Man was way cornier!”
“Exactly! I’ve reached my corn limit. Come on, what do you think we should watch, Zack?”
“Oh I am not getting in the middle of this.”
“Josie?”
“Why don’t we watch something actually scary?”
Zack and Ally glanced at each other. Ally felt him take a deep breath, preparing to remind them all of her “sensitivities.” She squeezed his hand and spoke for herself.
“I think I can handle scary. Just…no stalkers?”
Josie smiled, but not reassuringly.
“Have you guys heard of The Third Window?”
“Is that some kind of art film? I want to be scared, not filled with existential dread.”
“Oh, you’ll be scared. I’ll bet you $20 you’ll be too terrified to finish it.”
Grant clapped his hands together.
“Easy money.”
Josie found the film on Thrill and hit play. A low, rumbling sound grew louder as a yellow-grey apartment building came into focus. It loomed closer, larger, until the camera passed through a window on the third floor. Pothos vines curved around the grey-painted wood and white countertops inside. A man in a crisp button-up seared bacon on an electric stove as a woman in a lacy black shift glided in from the bedroom. The music remained sparse, a low rumble swelling and fading beneath a music-box melody played on far-away keys.
Ally fought back a yawn. The dialogue was mundane, without any hint of tension between the two. They were happy newlyweds in a big city with big jobs.
What’s next? She gets fridged so they can have a dead wife montage?
Mid-sentence, the man reached behind his back, arm bending at an uncanny angle. His hands closed around the burning-hot iron handle. He smiled at her and swung the skillet into her face. Blood spattered. The sizzle and thud of the beating repeated, three, four times. When her face was gone, he stopped.
5 years later, according to the title card, he stared out a barred window, visions of his life with her flashing through his mind. A happy wife. A happy dead wife. Ally was sweating. Zack squeezed her hand.
The man had done it for the insurance, according to the prosecution. He was serving life. All this was explained in a tedious meeting with the lawyer filing his appeal. The audience knows, of course, he loved her. That there’s something else going on here. A thought came to Ally’s mind, and she couldn’t help but whisper it out loud.
“Was he possessed?”
“I thought you hadn’t seen it.”
“I haven’t.”
Josie scoffed.
A change came over the man, now wearing the same ear-to-ear smile he had before. His manacles clattered against the metal table as he lunged at his lawyer. The chains saved the attorney, but the condemned man hurt himself trying to tear the other apart. Blood pooled around his wrists on the table. He wouldn’t stop smiling.
The next scene opened at the man’s old third-floor apartment. A small family lived there now, busy parents and a little girl. She cooed as she played with a fake cookware set, chopping at plush vegetables with a plastic knife. Ally’s stomach felt queasy as she realized what would happen next. She shifted her weight to stand and leave but before she could, it started.
Ally closed her eyes until the sound of metal cutting flesh had stopped. She knew what she would see when she opened them. And there the little girl was, singing as she put plastic bread in the fake oven. Covered in her parents’ blood. Ally’s head ached. She was going to vomit.
“That’s not…” Josie mumbled and paused the movie. Ally bolted to the bathroom and spewed her drinks into the toilet. She could hear her friends’ barely muffled voices through the door.
“What the hell was that?”
“I’m sorry, it wasn’t supposed to—”
“She does not need this right now.”
“Zack, it’s just a movie.”
“You have no idea what it’s like to have—”
Zack fell silent when Ally came out, her arms wrapped around her emptied stomach. He had their bags packed and his shoes on.
“Let’s go home.”
“I’m sorry Ally, I—”
“It’s okay, Josie. I think I just had too much to drink.”
“Okay. But you should know that’s not how the movie goes.”
“What?”
“I checked, and I definitely played the right version. But someone must have uploaded a weird bootleg by mistake.”
“What was supposed to happen?”
“Well, it does get bloody again, towards the end. But it’s the dad who gets possessed, not the little girl. It’s a slow reveal. Not whatever the hell that was.”
Back at their apartment, Ally sat under bundles of blankets with an empty bowl and a glass of gingerale on the table next to the couch.
“Are you sure you want to sleep out here?” Zack asked.
“Yeah, I still feel queasy. You should get some sleep, you have an early morning.”
“Okay.”
Zack kissed her hair and closed their bedroom door. Ally turned on the TV, scrolling through her recommended videos, searching for something bright and wholesome. Cats eating sushi. An animated short. A video essay on a minor character from a Nintendo game. Nothing caught her eye until she reached the news section.
“Felony Charges Dropped Against Donald Windham.”
Her body froze. The blankets wrapped around her legs and torso suddenly felt like chains. Trembling, she pressed play.
“I’m standing outside the courthouse where Donald Windham was set to be tried on one count of aggravated assault and one count of attempted kidnapping, both felony charges. It appears the judge has dismissed the case due to a lack of evidence, namely the refusal of Windham’s victim to cooperate with the investigation. Windham is coming out now, let’s see if we can ask him some questions.”
Ally’s phone started to buzz. It was a live broadcast. They were all watching. Ally wanted to run and wake Zack, but she couldn’t tear herself away from the face at the top of the courthouse steps. She didn’t want to have to hide again. She wanted this to be the last time she ever had to think about him. With crystal clarity, she imagined a bullet hole opening between his smirking eyebrows.
A loud bang made Ally duck. But it was just the TV. Now there were screams too. She watched as Donald Windham’s body collapsed and a crowd tackled a guard to the ground.
“Cut the feed! Oh my god.”
The screen went black, and Ally stared at her own dark reflection. Sliding off the couch, she crawled to the screen and brushed its surface with a single finger. Her reflection mirrored her movements in every way but one. The Ally in the TV wasn’t smiling.
Thank you for reading Every Nook Uncanny. If you liked what you read, please share and comment. The audio version of this story will be available this Friday. You can follow Mae on Twitter.