I Work At A Half-Priced Voodoo Shop | CreepCast

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Welcome back to Gravecast.

Today we are reading a story called, I work at a half-priced voodoo store.

From what I've been told,

it seems that this is in, you know, not an exact parallel, but it's something that if you're a fan of Tales from the Gas Station, Station, this is something that might skew towards your liking.

I don't know if it's as comical or as, you know, if it's as campy and fun, but just like kind of little excerpts from somebody working in a

spooky shop, pretty much.

Right, yeah.

It's like

I completely lost what my train of thought was.

I was

going somewhere with that.

It's okay.

I had one line immediately just stinked.

Don't mess it up.

Don't mess it up.

I think,

because I saw a couple people recommend this one.

I think it's kind of campy.

I don't think it is,

well, I mean, it's our audience.

So if it was as on the nose as Tales from the Gas Station, they wouldn't tell us this.

But most people have, yes, described it as like a more tonally like straightforward tales from the gas station i really

i really liked tales from the gas station um

and thought it was like fun and like uh enjoyed some of the narrative directions at the end i was like annoyed because i think i was taking it a little too seriously so i'm going to try to not do that this time hopefully well i will say you know i i think that the ending was so kind of out there and stuff that by the end you know i think at least I was rolling my eyes a bit.

But I will say, the entire, like the time of like, it was funny.

It was, I mean, it's such a good fucking story, man.

It's such, and I know we haven't even touched on all of it, but I'm kind of ready to have another experience like that.

Like, I wouldn't mind another campy thing right now.

Going into it.

prepared for that, you know, and having it be consistent through the story would be lovely.

I think that's the biggest problem with a lot of the stuff we read is like, it's not that it goes campy.

It's that's like, you sent me through the entire thing.

And then at a certain point, it just like hits you across the face with a bat, where it's like, and by the way, now.

You know, and it's like, it's just a bit jarring.

You're so in, you're in one seat on a ride and you're like, yeah, yeah, yeah.

And then it turns into another ride halfway through.

And you're like, oh, I was enjoying that ride.

So

whatever it is, I hope if it's campy, let it be campy throughout.

And I'm ready to have some fun with it.

I'm going to let this happen to me.

Whatever this story has in store, I'm going to let it just simply take me and do it at once.

The story is written by a Reddit user who goes by Voodoo Clerk.

It seems that they made that account in order to originally tell the story, but they have several other stories on No Sleep as well.

Like, I'm a receptionist at a plastic surgeon's, my boss is stalking me.

Another series, or another standoff or one-off, my cross-country road trip turned out to be a mistake.

So they write a bunch of different stories, and they also post a lot of, I believe, their own art regarding their stories.

They have a linked Instagram account as well that is also voodoo clerk, where they post a lot of like artwork for the characters within the story.

So it seems that this original voodoo story got a ton of traction and a bunch of people became interested.

So the author just kept rolling with it from there, writing more stuff, making art about the stories, which is pretty cool.

So we'll have their stuff linked in the description to check out.

Be sure to show them some love.

Yeah, be sure to show the author love.

As always, guys, go support their stuff, especially if you like the story, see if there's any physical media.

Is there any?

I don't think that I saw any physical media this person was selling in terms of like the bottom.

I don't think so.

At least none that I'm seeing.

But again, their socials will be linked in the description for you all to double-check if you're interested.

But none that I'm seeing on their Instagram, there's like artwork they make, but I think that is it, at least from what I see in their official links.

Okay, cool.

Well, I mean, go support them any way you can, just support the authors or the reason why we're here.

And just wanted to say, if you enjoyed this podcast, do consider checking us out on Spotify or Apple Podcasts.

It does help us out quite a bit, and it just helps keep this thing rolling.

So, without further ado, I say, let's get into it.

i work at a half-priced voodoo store

let's get into it i should also mention uh especially for you hunter and the audience that if i randomly disappear at any point there's like a biblical storm happening outside of the window right now oh

either the power went out or i died oh good i'm gonna assume that you just died immediately okay i'm gonna jump to that conclusion

Good, and I want you to continue the podcast in my state.

If I died right now on air, what would you do?

And I knew that you died?

Yeah.

I would stop.

I would probably, I would stop recording.

And I'd be like, I would stop recording and I would go and I would probably try to alert some kind of authority and being like, hey, this guy died.

Also, I'll tell you this right now, too.

If you die.

If you have a lamest answer.

If you did not, if you did not die, or if you did die, I would not continue the show.

We've had this conversation before.

Yes, you would.

I would.

We've been discussed at length on this podcast before.

You have had entire breakdowns.

No.

Okay.

Well, what?

You would just be like, well, that sucks.

Sorry, everyone.

He's dead.

I think that that's if anybody got mad that the show ended because one of the co-hosts died, I'd be like, why don't you fucking look inward just a little bit, dude?

Like, good Lord.

You know,

why don't you examine your heart and get back to me on that one?

I would be, I certainly would not continue the show if you died.

I would be free for once.

I would be able to escape.

I mean, I, and here's the thing, though.

If you carried on without me, that's totally fine.

I'm just saying for me, I'd be like, there's no way.

You're the whimsical backbone.

If there's none of that, it's not even worth doing.

If there's no whimsy, I'm the whimsical backbone.

I think so.

Then what would you be?

God, I don't.

I don't even know.

I don't know.

I wish I do, but I don't know.

Backbone It's such an absurd title.

I think you'd give me ways.

The whimsical backbone was nice.

Is it whimsical backbone?

No, no, it's too kind.

That's my point.

I think I'm just the guy that reads stuff and you do the funny impressions and jokes.

That's fine.

I'm the chat GPT voice.

You can replace me with AI.

You can replace me with AI, and they wouldn't notice for like two weeks.

Well, to be fair, I don't think that they would notice on any of us.

It's getting too good.

It's simply too good.

What I am worried about, unironically, is that,

because I was actually just to throw this out too, we'll get to the story quickly, but the

people have been posting

their stories on Creepcast, and it's been awesome.

I love that.

On the Creepcast subreddit, I should say.

And I'm so worried that people are going to, and I don't even know if I should say this.

It's just slipping into AI stories and like

that kind of stuff.

That's what I thought as well.

And I worry about that because it just sucks because there's so much actual media that people have made and like put their fucking heart into.

And you'd hate to like spotlight that.

You know what I mean?

Spotlight that kind of thing.

So I just want to say, if you are working hard on a story and if it keeps, and if every story you're writing is getting rejected by R slash no sleep, throw it up on ours.

Like, I mean, people have been loving it.

So.

Yeah.

I've seen a bunch of people posting stuff in there.

I need to come through it one day and pick out some favorites.

But yeah, there is.

Did you see the fucking

did you see the book that somebody?

I did see that.

What was that book?

Isn't that

hold up a second ago?

Yeah, so hold on.

For those that don't know, someone posted this in our subreddit.

In our subreddit, Bus Federal 9654, which is an absurd name.

Anyway,

they posted that there is a book called Yellow Flowers by author Drew Gasper.

And in the cover of the book, he put a note that says, dedicated to the creepcast community.

How cool is that, man?

That is, that is so wild.

Unbelievably cool.

This author, their name on Reddit is Forsaken Library149.

His flare, you know, you can pick flares on Reddit.

His flare on Reddit is, oh, oh, he's going to explain Google, which is your quote during the best friend tried to ruin my life story.

He replied to the guy to Buzz Federal who posted his book and said, whoa, thank you so much for buying a physical copy.

Glad to hear you're enjoying it.

And then he links an original post with an Amazon listing and stuff.

You know what?

Let's throw that in the description as well.

Yeah, we're going to throw that in the description.

Please go support.

I just think that's so cool.

A member of the community actually making a physical book and stuff.

Go support that.

Also, too, it's always good to just support physical media in that way.

And especially one of our own, one of our own kin.

Go read the story if anything too that we could reach out and see if it could be something if it makes sense to uh maybe read on the show or do something like that i think that could be fun so they put uh they posted about it uh drew gasper did and said i've been listening to the podcast since basically day one and while i've dabbled in writing a bit before i've never actually published anything until now creepcast definitely inspired me to write and actually finished writing my longest work to date it's up for sale on amazon and if you really want a physical copy you uh it's up on amazon if you really want a physical copy but it's also available to read online for free.

Oh,

I wanted to publish it on No Sleep as well, but didn't realize how strict they were about some of the rules.

They gave me a 30-day ban because my story contains a prologue and a fictional character's full name.

Oh, my God.

It's

so obnoxious, man.

That is

ridiculous.

Give us your stories.

It'll be okay.

Yeah, please.

If anything, posted there, but also at the same time, support the physical work, man.

Try to pick up a book if you can, or at least just read the story, share it with your buddies if you like it.

You know how it does.

But yeah,

let's get into this.

Well, hold on.

He says, I've dedicated this book to the creepcast community, so hopefully y'all enjoy it.

I honestly appreciate any feedback y'all are willing to share.

Also, there might be one or two creepcast Easter eggs hidden throughout the books.

That's so cool.

Wow,

well, now I have to buy four immediately.

Anyway, back to that.

That's very cool.

Yeah, that's awesome.

Y'all check that out.

But anyway, not to take away from the story we're reading today, I work at a half-price voodoo store.

It came highly recommended.

I'm ready to have some fun with this.

Hunter, are you ready to have some fun with this?

I am ready for some.

I honest, unironically, am ready for some campy fun.

I need it in my life.

Ready?

Time for some campy fun.

Let's do it.

I work at a half-price voodoo store.

Part one.

You ever get out of high school and realize you have no idea what the hell you want to do with your life?

Turns out, just kind of waiting and seeing where life takes you can really only get you so far.

You're always told, oh, what do you want to do when you get out of high school?

Simple enough question.

Well turns out it's a lot harder to figure that shit out when you don't really think of it the entire time you're in high school.

So what do you do?

Walking down the aisle and accepting your diploma and suddenly you realize you have no clue what you want to do with your life.

My name is Travis and when I graduated high school I had no idea what the hell I wanted to do with my life.

College?

Not appealing to me.

Job?

even less appealing.

So what did I do with all my government-mandated education?

Stayed home sleeping all day and gaming all night.

Typical deadbeat shit.

And like any loving and supportive parents, my lovely mom and dad threatened to kick me out of my ass unless I found something to make of my life.

So I weighed my options.

College, I had no idea what to study.

The nearest college was several miles away.

I had no scholarship opportunities.

The idea of being in debt for the majority of my life was very unappealing.

Job?

I get home tired and probably have to listen to some asshole boss.

So it's a job I ended up choosing.

Although trying to find any kind of employment in my town was near impossible.

Unless I wanted to work at a factory for the rest of my life, I really had to expand my search from fast food to garbage man, throwing my application to any place that had a help wanted sign.

That's how I ended up at Old King Creoles.

Honestly, I don't remember even applying here.

I just got a call one day when I was lying in bed reading a book.

Let's just say that's what I was doing.

Oh,

I'm like, why did he say let's just say?

But now I get it.

It's a joke about

self-gratification.

Was he beating his dick?

That's what he was doing, yeah.

Okay.

When my phone pulled me away from what I was doing, sighing as I stared at the unfamiliar number.

The person behind the line talked with a heavy old southern accent, but I could tell how excited he was to meet me in person.

Mr.

Wellers is coming back, boys.

You know, I wasn't going to say anything yet.

I was going to give the story a little bit more time, but we are back on the bayou.

We are down.

We are in the bayou now.

We're down in Nolans,

Nola,

because it's Old King Creoles.

It's a voodoo shop.

I assume that's where this is going to voodoo shop.

So, I mean, this might as well

be down on

Royale or Dalphine Street.

Dow Fiend Street down there.

And Dalfine Street, you go down to Bayou.

He that sows the wind reapeth the whirlwind, said old Mr.

Wellers.

Isn't that, wait, hold on, remind me.

Isn't the bit that Mr.

Wellers is a normal guy, but there's like a dude that follows Mr.

Wellers around who talks like that?

I barely remember any of the stories we read.

You are

asking the wrong man.

Okay, so if I recall correctly, the comments will correct me.

But Mr.

Wellers worked at a blood clinic.

Yes.

Like a donation clinic.

Yes.

he was just like a normal, like, you know, doctor, medical technician, whatever.

But there's like this crazy Cajun man in the trees who follows him around.

Yes.

And he's like, Mr.

Wellers is going to get you good down there.

Yeah, yeah.

So really the character is the guy that follows Mr.

Wellers rather than

Mr.

Wellers is completely unimportant to what this guy thinks of Mr.

Wellers.

I think that was the bit we set up i think that was the dynamic

oh anyway

although it you know i i never think about people who haven't seen old episodes

well i mean at this point sorry this is your first episode you're in for it's gonna be a whirlwind

yeah that if people are like oh creepcast i'll check it out and we spend 10 minutes talking about someone else giving us credit in a book they wrote and now we're just talking about old stories they haven't heard before it's we're really selling the podcast I was excited to finally shove it in my parents' faces that I had made something with my life.

That is an intense

reaction to just getting a phone call.

Working at a voodoo shop.

Living the dream, right?

Of course, if you asked me now what I would have chosen, college is looking a bit more optimal.

If only a little bit.

Now look, we've all heard the story of bosses from hell and shitty working conditions for shit pay.

And to some extent, I get that.

I'll get into my boss in a second.

I really don't hate this place.

The customers piss me off more than anything.

Let me explain why by explaining my job.

I work at Old King Creole's half-priced voodoo shop.

What a title.

What a great name.

That's a great name for a voodoo shop.

I took you to some of the

stores, the voodoo shops, which stocked out type stuff, whatever.

Yeah.

Yeah, I think I took you to Reverend Zombies, which again, great name.

And then Mama Bones.

Mama Bones.

Again, great name.

Yeah.

Mama Bones.

Hers is a cool one.

Hers was closed, though.

I only went to Reverends.

Oh, yeah, that's right.

That's right.

Reverence is cool and all.

Mama Bones was especially cool because when I brought Brandon Buckingham and some friends down, she shut off the shop just to do an interview with us for YouTube, which is very cool.

Oh, that's cool.

She was very kind and stuff and very knowledgeable about voodoo traditions and stuff.

Sure.

A lot of cool culture down there.

But yeah,

something like Old King Creole's half-price voodoo would fit right in, completely unnoticed.

Also, since I've brought it up,

have i ever explained i feel like we've gotten close about when i got you trapped in the quarter and we walked 10 miles yes we have explained it in great detail we don't need to

it's i take him down no no no i take him down to the quarter And we're going on like these little, we went on like a HANA tour.

And I'm like, oh, Hunter, you got to see this.

You got to see this.

And I didn't realize it until near the end of the day, but we had walked like a collective 12 miles across the French corridor.

And as the day went on, you could see it like wearing on Hunter's face, like it was getting worse and worse.

And there were three instances where we would walk to the edge of the quarter and we'd be like, Okay, where's this next thing we're doing?

And I'm like, It's on the other side of the quarter, so we have to like double back the way we came.

At one point, we were

near the edge of town, and Hunter's like, Okay, where's the next place we're going?

And I just pull up my phone and he goes, It's out of the quarter, right?

Right, I say.

And I remember at the very end of the day, we were trying to find somewhere to eat.

It was like 11 p.m.

We were trying to find somewhere to eat.

And I put in a location on my phone, and we're like on Bourbon Street, and the place is packed.

And I was like, Well, maybe I can find another place.

And I like pull out my phone and I start scrolling, and I just feel Hunter

lean in behind me, like over my shoulder.

And he goes,

Get me out of here

I'm like all right we're leaving and then we went we went to a waffle house that was like weird and had a line and it was like takeout only so we left and then that's when we went to canes and I cried laughing as we were ordering chicken do you

yeah the caniacs yeah it was a long day it was a long day it was a very yeah yeah the yeah the caniacs i forgot i was so tired i forgot what cane sauce is called which it's just called cane sauce.

But cane has a caniac combo option.

So I order, like, I order the food, and then I'm like, can I have an extra caniac sauce?

One more caniac sauce, one more caniac sauce.

And I wasn't like thinking about it.

And Hunter leans in right behind me while I'm in the driver's seat.

And he goes, I want you to say Kaniac sauce one more time.

Kaniac sauce.

And

I immediately realized what I had done.

And

And I'm containing a laugh, but I don't want to like start laughing at the person taking my order.

Right.

And so it comes out as like tears just start running down my face.

But I'm keeping it like completely,

I'm trying to keep it straight while I'm trying to finish the order, but I'm crying.

And the woman goes, are you okay?

I'm like, yeah.

I'm fine.

Can I have one more caniac sauce, please?

I'm riddle and I'm old.

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Back to episode Don't Get Too Scared.

Quite the mouthful, huh?

It's this glorified shack full to the brim with freaky dolls and spooky cobwebs.

Lovely place, really.

Especially at night when all the desperate people come in begging for wishes or potions.

Oh, yeah, we give out free wishes.

Like really, real wishes.

But I don't handle that, so I'm not going to talk much about them.

Just remember, if you ever come in and ask for a wish, please think it through thoroughly.

So tired of wiping up the counter after a bad wish gets granted.

The main thing I deal with is doll cells and potions.

Need that wart removed?

Got a great potion for that.

You a shitty parent and forgot little Jimmy's birthday?

What if the dolls should do it?

Just don't come crying to me when Jimmy's soul gets trapped in the doll.

We have a strict no-return policy.

Is it a scam?

No, you bought it without asking if it could suck up Jimmy's soul.

Can't really do much about that now, can I?

Potions are more flexible.

The only time I've seen it go bad was a weight loss potion.

Had to sell the Angry Lady a potion to get rid of all her excess skin.

I don't know what she expected.

She was like 300 pounds.

Did she think all that skin was going to go somewhere?

The way I check into work is also pretty interesting, if I can call it that.

Show up on time, or five minutes late, without fail, and stab a needle into the voodoo doll on the counter.

It's not meant to look like anyone since it's a blank template, but still doesn't make it any less weird.

I swear, that thing looks at me whenever I'm on my phone, when nobody is in the shop, and I've got nothing to do.

What do you want me to do?

Wipe the counter down for the millionth time?

I've tried, man.

The dust always comes back.

Without fail.

You turn around for half a second and it's back.

It's gotten to the point where I just leave it and draw things in it.

What else?

Oh, yeah, we have a basement I'm never allowed to go into.

I was told by my boss, I'll talk about him soon.

Calm your horses, that I'm never allowed down there.

Not that I even want to go down there.

The loud knocking coming from it and the crying has pretty well and truly kept me away from it.

Hey, don't you start judging me about it.

If you're so damn curious, you go down there if you're so damn tough.

I'm just a cashier.

If I'm told not to go down into the freaky murder basement, I ain't going down there.

What else happens here?

Hmm.

Well, the place seemingly stalks itself, so that's pretty cool.

Sometimes.

This place can get so boring when nobody is here that I wish I could restock the shelves or the potions.

Something, man.

I get paid to sit behind the counter and ring up things people want to buy.

Simple as that.

I've been working here for about two months, and man, does it feel like I've been here for decades?

Every day feels like three, man.

Alright, I'll stop whining and talk about my boss.

If you guessed, his name is King Creole.

Then ding, ding.

Congratulations.

You've been paying attention to my dumb ramblings.

King Creole, who will shorten to KC, that's for you, Kansas City,

for now is weird.

Like an uncanny valley kind of weird.

He's this 6'4 lanky man with messy black hair and button eyes.

You ever watch Coraline?

Yeah, we're approaching other mother territory.

Though I guess he's got her beat because he's real.

And his mouth is sewn up.

Same with his throat and neck.

Like, he's got stitches all around his neck.

Sometimes when he turns his head too quickly, you can see it it wobble and his stitch is about to snap.

It's gross.

It's pretty cool, all things said, though he definitely doesn't have a concept of personal space.

When I walked into work on my first day, he came out of God knows where and grabbed my hand and put his face like a good three inches away from my face.

One thing that strikes you about KC, apart from the stitches and button eyes, is how pale he is.

Now, I'm no bronze god myself, but KC is about as pale as white chalk.

Like, it's unreal.

When I first met him, I thought he was wearing pain or some shit like that.

But nope, that's a skin.

I think anyway.

If you look at him long enough, you kind of see his skin cracking.

Like a sunbleached corpse or something.

I don't know.

All in all, he isn't such a bad boss.

He pays well enough.

Get $20 an hour to just sit here and ring up an occasional customer.

You got a wish?

Sorry, that's KC's department.

And of course, if you screw up your wish and end up as a bloody mess on the floor and counter, guess what?

Poor idiot has to clean that up.

Yours truly.

So please, if you ever show up to Old King Creole's half-price voodoo shop, thank your stupid wishes through.

Now, if you'll excuse me, my break is done, and that thing in the basement is really banging on the door.

And that doll on the counter is really giving me the sink eye.

Anything else interesting happens here?

I'll let you guys know.

That's the end of part one.

Part one.

So I like it.

So it is, it does have like a tales from the gas station kind of vibe.

I do like the uh

I do like the idea of like the almost like what's that dude, that character from One Piece.

I thought of the skeleton dude from One Piece, Brooke, I think is his name.

Luffy?

Luffy.

Luffy.

It made me think of that, but then it's like, it seems like, no, he's just like

basically a zombie of some kind or like a...

I thought for a second that they were going to go the angle of he himself is like a voodoo doll,

but it kind of seems like he's, I mean, he's a voodoo doll, but he still has skin.

You know, he's not like made of fabric.

But the button eyes are pretty sweet, and I like that his mouth is all sewn up and everything.

And I like the kind of comical tones to how torturous some of these wishes would be.

Losing all that weight, and then you're still walking around with all the excess skin and stuff.

Or you like turn to bile at the counter is a lot of fun, too.

So curious to see how through these next couple parts, because in total, it's seven parts.

Curious to see, like, I'm guessing that each part's just going to be an individual case of, hey, this person came in and this happened, which is pretty fun.

Yeah, it's like vignettes, like with the setting.

The first part kind of seemed to be our setup for like, you know, the setting of world takes place.

And I like how Casey sounds like a giant voodoo doll.

Yeah.

Like, he's incredibly pale, button-eyed, stuff like that.

It's like he got, he made a bad deal a while back, and now he, you know, runs the shop in the state he's in.

It's an interesting.

Anyway, part two.

Part two.

Seems as though my original post was pretty popular, despite me just talking about how bored I am with my job.

Well, it turns out, I guess I didn't make it scary enough for most people.

So to fix that, I thought I will tell you guys a story from my second week of working at this high-priced voodoo shop as a reward for you guys liking it so much.

Well, just in case you have no idea who I am and stumbled on this post before my last one, my name's Travis, and I work at Old King Creole's half-price voodoo shop, running the desk as a clerk, and overall just do my best to keep up with all the weird shit that happens here.

Like what happened when I just started working here.

I had punched in like any other day before, stabbing a pin into the doll template that just stares at me all day from its spot on the counter.

At this point, I was still struggling in vain to keep the counter clean, but alas to no avail.

So I resigned myself to just screw around on my phone until I saw some form of life.

Travis, my boy, came the voice of my boss and owner of this fine establishment, King Creole himself.

How has the job been treating you?

He asked.

His stitched-up lips curled into a smile as he came around the counter and wrapped an arm around me, causing me a decent amount of discomfort.

As I mentioned before, King Creole has button eyes, stitched-up mouth, and a head being kept on his shoulders by some stitches.

He always wears a nice black suit and a dark purple tie and a a top hat.

Yes, even in

he dresses like a pimp for some reason.

Travis is his newest slut.

I didn't mention that I'm forced to set up front and like a garter.

Yes, even indoors, and yes, I know he looks ridiculous.

But look, man, I'm trying to keep this job as long as possible, so don't blow this for me.

It's going okay, Mr.

Creole.

I said awkwardly.

Still, at this point, weirded out by his looks and his unnaturally chalk-white skin, nodded happily at me and gave me a good smack on the back.

Because we described him as like being dressed like a frost dude.

That's my boy.

He nodded happily at me and gave me a good smack on the back, getting a loud oof out of me.

Fantastic to hear, son.

Now, remember, they come asking for a wish.

You just come fetch old King Creole and I'll be right on over.

That voice is perfect for this character.

He hummed happily, finally letting go of me and standing back.

I nodded since that was really the only thing I didn't have to do here.

By the way, I think one of the dolls is missing.

Pointing towards the wall of voodoo dolls that goes from the floor to the ceiling.

Each of them is of a different design and of a different person, so if one goes missing, there's usually a reason.

Oh, well, I'll be.

He hummed almost happily as his button eyes turned back to me and he gave me a yellow-toothed smile behind the stitches.

I expect a customer will come in today.

Chuckled, walking past me and patting me on the shoulder.

His hand was cold as ice.

Giving me a bit of a shiver as he vanished to the office in the back, I set my butt down on the uncomfortable stool that sat behind the counter and went back to looking at my phone.

Periodically peeking at the doll on the counter and turning it back over whenever it somehow managed to to turn and look at me.

That's that the visual is funny for one that you check in by stabbing a voodoo doll.

That's funny.

Yeah, but also that like he's just passively annoyed by all this stuff.

Well, yeah, I like that he isn't just like, well, this is all so weird.

I mean, he's there every day.

Yeah.

He's gotten used, like more so annoyed and just kind of weirded out.

There are things that obviously he's like, oh, that's, that's kind of shivves a shiver.

Like that, like, sends a, you know, a cold feeling down my back.

But otherwise, he's just kind of like, oh, stop looking at me.

He'll like turn it back.

Yeah, he's like, he's like sitting there scrolling instagram and every now and then he looks up and the voodoo doll so he just like rotates it back around and goes back to his phone that's a fun visual yeah i think so after about an hour into my shift the old rusty bell on the door clang signaling me to get off my phone as i quickly hit it and looked over to the customer who's a girl about my age maybe a year older she looked around at the place a bit disgusted by all the cobwebs quickly coming closer to me luckily she didn't look at the wall of dolls since their gaze followed her as she came up to the counter welcome to old king creole's half-price voodoo shop.

I said at my best, I do actually want to be here, voice.

What can I help you with?

Putting my hands on the counter and looking down to make sure it wasn't too dusty.

Hi, um, the sign outside said free wishes?

She asked me with a raised brow.

She seemed like the sporty kind of person.

How did I know this?

Because she was wearing workout gear in the middle of fall.

She obviously

seemed athletic and as if she was working out.

How did I know this?

Because she was wearing clothes, which one would work out in.

She obviously was jogging and saw her sign.

How exactly does that work?

Yeah, I gotta be.

Yeah, I gotta go get my boss to handle that.

Wait here while I go get him.

I asked her, and she nodded, still a bit skeptical about this place.

And I really don't blame her about that at all, if I'm being honest.

Getting off my stool, I stretched a bit and made my way over to the king's office.

Flinching.

I'm sorry, we've already ruined this setup to make.

Because now in my mind, like, she walks in and he's just like a t-shirt normal.

He's like, yeah, let me go get my boss.

When he comes around the counter, he's wearing...

One testicle popping out of the phone.

Sorry,

skirt.

Sorry.

Yeah, sorry.

It's a company policy.

I have to wear it.

I'm sorry, yo.

Now you clock in.

You know what they say.

Stretch men, made my way over to the king's office.

Flinching when whatever was in the basement started pounding on the door again.

At this point, I was still afraid of it, so I just quickly ran past it and to the boss man's office, knocking three times like I always was told to do.

Hey, Mr.

Creole, we have someone here asking about a wish.

Receiving silence from the office, raising a brow at that, I tried again, knocking another three times to get a response.

Although the response I got was the girl at the counter screaming.

Turning quickly, I saw that it was just my boss standing at the counter.

That's funny.

He knocks three times and he like appears in a puff of smoke.

Looking back at the office and over to the counter, I scratched my head at how the hell he had gotten over there so quickly, but ultimately resigned myself to it just being not worth my time to think about.

I do apologize for startling you, darling.

King Creole hummed, taking his hat off and putting it to his chest.

I do forget sometimes that my appearance does frighten the faint of heart.

In my mind, this is like a voodoo stitched version of

the voodoo man from Princess and the Frog.

Sure.

You know what I'm talking about?

Yeah, same

clue and everything.

Yeah.

But like white skin with the button eyes and stuff like that.

Yeah.

He hummed with a chuckle.

Yeah, I had the same reaction as that girl when I first seen him.

It's a little early for Halloween.

The girl pouted, backing up from him, and I can imagine, really rethinking the idea of coming in here.

I wouldn't have blamed her if she had left right there.

Would have saved me the trouble of cleaning up afterwards.

What can I do for you, Melissa?

My boss asked, putting his hat back on that messy mat of black hair he owned and putting his hands out in front of him.

Obviously, throwing the girl off by knowing her name.

She looked at me as if to see if I was having the same reaction.

I just shrugged at her.

He did the same thing to me, so I didn't know what she wanted.

Well, she began, looking back at him and pursing her lips in thought.

What does asking for a wish entail?

She asked, crossing her arms.

Not a bad question to ask in my own honest opinion.

Oh, well, you asked little old me for a wish and I grant it for you.

No strings attached.

He hummed, holding his hands up and showing that some strings dangled down from his gloved fingers.

That's fun.

I do ask that you think your wish through very thoroughly.

Wishes have a very bad tendency of backfiring.

I looked at my boss with a raised brow.

That was the first time I'd seen him show any kind of emotion that wasn't, well, creepy happy is the best way to describe him.

Seemingly sensing I was staring at him, his attention turned to me.

Travis, can you please get something out of my office?

I looked up at him confused since I was never really allowed in there.

But hey, he pays me, so I might as well do it, right?

Sure.

What do you need?

Looking to the counter and noticing that stupid doll was staring at me again.

Get the brown satchel bag that's under my desk.

I'll handle young Miss Melissa.

Yum turning his attention back to her.

His hands coming down to the dusty counter and drumming his hands on them.

Sure, thanks, sir.

Give me one last look to the girl before turning and going to his office.

Not before that thing in the basement started banging again and startled me.

Quickly rushing past it into his office.

King Creel's office was surprisingly spotless.

I said that because the entire shop is covered in dust and cobweb, so seeing such a nice office was definitely jarring.

I know you guys are expecting severed heads and dead bodies everywhere, but really he just has a desk and some photos on the wall.

All of them are scratched out though, so I didn't really pay too much attention to it.

Going over to his desk desk and looking underneath it, I did indeed see the satchel bag he told me to fetch.

Taking it and heading out of his office, I came back to Melissa, shaking his gloved hand, and both of their attentions turned to me.

Travis, good boy, you found it.

He motioned for me to come closer to him.

I did and handed him the satchel.

With a cheerful grin on his stitched-up mouth, he quickly slammed it down on the counter, kicking up dust and sending both me and Melissa into a coughing fit.

He opened it up and searched inside for a bit, the smile growing wider and wider, seemingly about to bust his stitches when he pulled out exactly what he was looking for, pulling out a small can of what looked like skincare cream.

Now then,

your exact wish was that you never wanted acne problems ever again.

Correct?

Yes, the girl, tilting his head and waiting for an answer.

From my angle at his side, I could notice that his head really strained the stitches on his neck.

That would have been funny to see his head go rolling around the shop.

Melissa looked uncomfortable, obviously self-conscious about my being there, but she nodded to the voodoo salesman, who in turn handed her the cream.

She looked down at it and then up to him, a quizzical look on her face.

Well, go on, darling.

Try it out.

A smile still on his face, Melissa looked down at it and uncapped it.

I tried to peek for my spot next to Creole from behind the counter into the jar.

It's just a normal white cream, like any other kind of skincare product.

Melissa sighed as she dipped her fingers into the cream and got a conservative amount, tapping it on her cheeks and face as she spread it out in circles on the surface.

And when she was finished, she pulled out her phone from her pocket and looked at herself.

Eyes raised as she waited for something to happen.

And well, something did happen.

She started screaming really loud, and her skin started sizzling and dripping off her face.

Now I'm not squeamish much, but being caught off guard like that, I backed up and away from the counter.

What the fuck is this?

Melissa screamed as the skin on her face started dripping off her faster, like a melting candle.

Meanwhile, I was behind the counter struggling to keep my food down.

Luckily for me, I'd skipped breakfast, so I just gagged a lot.

You asked for no more acne, dear.

Creel hummed over her loud screams and the sizzling of her skin.

Now you won't have to worry about that acne ever again.

Said with a soft chuckle as he watched her squirm and scream some more.

This point, Melissa's face was mostly on the floor in a bloody mess.

She clawed at what was left of her skin as it melted her down to her skull and sinews.

Her hands weren't spared either as they too started melting their skin off.

It took less than two minutes for the girl called Melissa to have become nothing but a steaming pile of bones, blood, and other gross shit on the shop floor.

Travis, be a good boy and clean up this mess, please.

Creel said as he turned his attention to me.

I was still hacking and looked up at him like he was insane.

Just watched some girl die in front of of me, and now he wanted me to get rid of her.

Just a little bit crazy, don't you think?

I started to stammer, holding my stomach and shivering some of what I just seen.

But my gaze turned when he gripped me by the shoulder and stared into my eyes with his button eyes.

Be a good boy and clean this up.

Put the pile of bones in a trash bag and toss it into the basement.

He hummed to me, raising his finger quickly when I tried to remind him that I wasn't allowed in the basement.

I'll be down there, so don't worry worry about it.

Patting me hard on the back and walking over to the door.

Unlocking it with the key, he produced from his suit pocket and inserting it into the basement door.

Opening it quickly, he closed it behind him.

I could hear his muffled yelling and whatever was downstairs scurrying away from the door as his footsteps disappeared down into the unknown.

Looking over at the pile of human bones and blood, I sighed hard and looked behind the counter.

Putting on rubber gloves and getting out a mop, I went to work, collecting all the bones by hand, put it in a trash bag, and did my best to hold my breath.

I didn't know if he wanted the organs in there as well, so I just scooped them up quickly and shoved them into the bag.

Gagging hard when I finally let them go into the bag.

Setting that aside, I did my best to mop up the leftover blood.

Did a decent job for it being my first time in all.

Finally, I grabbed the bag and went over to the basement door, looking at it and swallowing a lump in my throat before I opened the door.

I looked down at the pitch black hole.

Looking at the bag, I tied it up as good as I could, chucked it down there.

closing the door again and sighing hard as I kept a hand on it and looked down at the floor.

A little shining piece of broken porcelain caught my attention.

Reaching down, I grabbed it and looked at it.

It was just a white piece, maybe from a vase or something, so I shoved it in my pocket and went back to my stool, pulling out my phone, shivering as I scrolled through it.

King Creole returned after 30 minutes.

slamming the door shut and locking it, mumbling something to himself as he took off his hat and dusted it.

Looking over to me, his smile returned and he walked over to me, peering over the counter to see my work.

Excellent work, Travis.

He said, wrapping an arm around me and looking at me, like a proud father when his son caught his first fish.

Why don't you take the rest of the day off?

Here, draw your trouble.

Rolling his fingers like he was doing a card trick and producing $200.

Staring at the amount of money and then back to him, he could have asked me to lick the dusty counter and I would have done it.

Taking it from him, I nodded and thanked him.

Getting everything I came with, phone and nothing else, I unstuck the pin from the voodoo doll and left without another word said.

Now, look, I know what you're all thinking.

I covered up some girl's death or helped get rid of her body.

And you're right, I did.

But in my own defense, I did get paid a lot to do it.

That's a great defense.

And it seems like everyone thought she just ran away.

No police ever came to the shop, and they never do whenever a wish goes bad.

So don't you start preaching to me.

Not like I'm the one telling people to make wishes without thinking them through So if you ever end up at this shop think of your wishes through okay, now I need to get back to work customer just walked in a fun like little monkey paw I wonder if these are gonna all be like little monkey paw situations as well Do you think also him clocking in with the pen?

Do you think that like protects him at all?

From it like anything in the store, you know what I mean?

Probably like whenever he clocks in, it's like, okay, this one, this guy's fine while he's in there.

Probably.

Yeah, I would say so.

That would make sense.

I also think, like, the monkey's paw thing is always like, oh, your wording wasn't careful enough.

You died.

I think that one was cheating a little bit.

I think if a girl's like, I don't want acne, and you just melt her.

Well, I think that he's.

Well, I guess by monkey paw, I just mean more so.

Like, the wish always has a narrative.

Oh, no.

I'm not arguing you.

Like, you're correct.

Oh, yeah, no, it is.

I'm saying that was a petty move on King Creole's part.

He does.

You don't want Acne.

What have you melted right here in the floor of the shop?

What do you think is the thing scuttling around in the basement?

And also, is there anything in the hole?

Like,

I'm curious with those little pieces cropped up.

Well, the hole was the passageway into the basement, I think.

Okay.

I thought in the room it was the...

It was like almost like a well, like a never-needed well.

No, I think what he's saying is he goes, he opens the basement door, and it's like a staircase going down, and that's the hole he throws the bag into.

Because earlier he said King Creole opened it and walked down yelling when he got to the bottom of the stairs.

So whatever normally fights against the basement door wasn't because King Creole walked out.

Yeah, because he went down there and he was like pushing it away, basically.

Yeah, yeah.

Or whatever's down there is afraid of him.

All right.

Anyway, part three.

Part three.

What would you do if you got held up at work?

like at gunpoint and some coked up junkie is screaming at you to give him all the money in the register hold your hands up and comply try and be a hero and fight him off with a a bat or a gun hidden under the counter.

I always thought I would just give the guy the cash register and hold my hands up while he left with it.

That was until I got held up not once, but twice in the same week.

First time I got to work on time, looking around to make sure King Creole wasn't hiding behind some corner that I didn't even know existed in the shop.

Satisfied that my boss wasn't going to scare me, I walked over to the counter and stabbed my needle into the counter doll, taking a seat on my stool and sign as I started my shift, trimming my fingers up and down on the counter.

Normally, I would see at most four or five customers during an entire shift.

Most want a wish, much to my chagrin, and maybe one or two of them want a potion.

That's a simple procedure.

You ask for the potion and I ring you up.

Easy as that.

Don't have to clean anything and I don't have to help discard a body.

But unfortunately for me, not many people want a potion.

They'd rather try and wish for something.

So when a guy came in wearing a beanie and a hoodie, I was more than willing to bet that he he was going to ask for a wish.

Barely opened my mouth to talk to him when a gun was shoved in front of my face.

I reflex, almost, I put my hands up slowly.

Easy, man.

I said in a squeaky, surprised voice.

Don't try and say you wouldn't react the same way.

Shut up.

Is it just you in here?

Guy asked, his eyes darting everywhere in a paranoid state.

He was obviously on something.

He had to be to try and rob a place that looked abandoned 90% of the time.

Uh,

I think my boss is here and that thing in the basement, but I'm pretty pretty sure it can't get out.

When he said thing in the basement, I got a shiver.

I got immediately just mind-filled with all those.

So, monster hunter, huh?

I motioned my head over to the shut basement door, which, of course, this time was not banging or crying or screaming.

The guy, obviously unamused, shoving the gun further in my face.

Get your boss out here before I blow your fucking brains all over the walls.

Threatened, cocking the hammer back on his revolver.

Said putting my hands up higher as I backed up and started making my way over to the boss man's office.

Lucky, the guy was so busy focused on me, because believe me when I say that the dolls on the wall behind him looked like they wanted to jump down and rip him to shreds.

Making it to Kane Creel's office, I quickly knocked on it.

Looking back to the guy who was staring at the counter doll, I imagine he had the look on him that he gives me when I'm slacking off on my phone.

Private, what do you want?

Creole's voice came from the office, the door opening, and him looking down at me, then over to the guy holding up his establishment.

Smile lowered a bit, but it didn't falter.

Instead, he nodded knowingly and stepped out, fixing his dark purple tie and walking over to the counter with me next to him.

Jesus!

Robert gasped when he saw King Creole coming towards him.

Pretty normal response when seeing my boss for the first time.

The man didn't falter for too long, though, pointing his gun up at the lanky voodoo shop owner.

What can I do for you?

Creole asked, hands clasped together as he looked down at the robber.

Not an ounce of concern on that chalky white face of his.

Open up the register in the safe, robber said quickly, looking back at the door, then back to us quickly.

The gun firmly in his hands and a serious look on his face, despite his eyes darting between us.

Well,

I don't have a safe.

But if it is the register you want, Travis will be more than willing to open it for you.

Right, Travis, my boy?

He asked, giving me a hard smack to my back and sending me stumbling forward.

The robber nearly shot me on the spot as I did so.

My hands still up and and I looked back to Creole like he was sending me to the slaughter.

Well, if he wanted to get robbed, I really couldn't stop him.

Walked back behind the counter and opened up the register.

One look at it told me that it was way more filled than usual.

I can say that for a fact because when I opened it up, the thing shot some loose bills up into the air.

My eyes were as wide as the robber's, who quickly pushed me aside and started filling up his hoodie and pants pockets with all the cash from the register.

Now, Kevin, his voice hummed in a tone that I knew meant trouble-the one he used when persuading someone into wishing for something.

I started instinctively backing away from him as he kept on shoving bills into his pockets.

He did look up, though, obviously, confused as to how the voodoo man knew his name.

How the hell do you know my name?

The robber, who I guess was indeed named Kevin, asked, pointing a gun at King Creole, who didn't flinch as he walked over to him.

The robber was obviously freaked out, the gun shaking in his hand.

Didn't your mama ever teach you that stealing is very, very bad?

Raising a gloved finger and shaking it at Kevin, who shivered and started sweating, backing up away from the man.

And didn't anyone ever tell you not to play with guns?

Kevin looked to me, his eyes wide with fear as he pointed the shaking revolver forward.

A loud crack went off in the shop.

My own eyes were wide as my ears rang, seeing that Kevin pulled the trigger on my boss.

Looked over to King Creole, who staggered to a stop, his head jerked backward and the stitches holding his head on almost snapping off.

Oh, Kevin, Kevin, Kevin.

Causing both me and Kevin's shawl to hit the floor, Creole jerked his head back into place.

Only this time, there's an obvious bullet hole in his forehead.

Looks like I'll have to teach you a lesson.

Kevin then started backing up, dropping the gun to the floor and holding his hands up.

I, meanwhile, looked over at Creole, completely dumbfounded.

I at this point had figured he wasn't really human, but surviving the headshot really kind of solidified that in my own head.

Looked over at the register and saw that it was still very much full of cash.

A never-ending cash register.

Another perk to work in here, I guess.

Travis, do be a good boy and look away, please.

King Creole asked me as he closed the distance to Kevin, grabbing the robber by the throat and lifting him up from the floor.

I don't want you to watch this part.

He said sweetly, like a mom talking to her son about something.

I opened my mouth to ask what was going to happen, but I thought better.

turning around and looking at the wall behind me.

Kevin, meanwhile, screamed and begged for me to help him.

Funny how that works.

A couple of minutes ago, he was holding me up.

Now he's screaming at the top of his lungs to help him.

Though that didn't last too much longer since his screaming turned into gurgles, hacking coughs.

Did my best to ignore the increasingly wet, nasty slaps and rips coming from behind me.

Gonna be honest, the fear of what he was doing to the robber was a million times scarier than the act of being robbed.

All done!

Satisfied hum of my boss rang in my ringing ears.

I turned up and saw the big splatter of blood on the wall and floor where Kevin had been.

Great, no doubt I would have to clean that up.

What'd you do with him?

I asked the old voodoo king.

He looked at me with those big black button eyes of his and looked to his arm, which he brought up and showed he was holding a controller for a marionette doll.

Except it was made of bones.

Small bones that almost looked like some kind of animals.

Of course, those thoughts were dispelled when he lifted his arm up further and produced a small bloody figure attached to the stings of the controller.

I'm sure I don't need to spell out who the figure looked like.

I don't appreciate people threatening my employees.

He sighed, dropping the bloody figure onto the table, made it dance around, making the counter messy with blood as he did so.

I looked up to him, both thankful and pissed off, mostly because I figured I'd have to clean all this up.

Thank you, sir.

Do you want me to start, but was soon interrupted by him when he held his hand up, and the little figure mimicked him.

Gotta hand it to him.

He's a great puppeteer.

Don't worry about the mess, Travis.

Chuckling as he picked up the figure and held it tightly clinched in his gloves, more blood leaking out of it and dripping onto the counter.

Just get rid of this for me, please.

He asked, tossing the gun at me.

I fumbled with it, afraid that it was going to go off in my hands.

Once I was sure, it wouldn't go off because it was empty.

I looked up at him, noticing that the bullet hole in his forehead disappeared.

I didn't ask about that, though.

Simply nodded, went over to the front door, and left.

Walking across the street to a dumpster that is near our shop in the alley.

Tossed it in there after I wiped it down against my pants, just in case my fingerprints were in there.

Quickly jogged back into the store, more than happy to see not a speck left where Kevin once was.

That was the first time I was held up in the store.

Second time came about two days later.

I was working later than usual.

My shift's usually from 9 a.m.

to 3 p.m.

This time I was working from 5 to 9.

Not horrible, but we definitely get weirder people in the later hours.

Weird people that are usually chill with King Creole and the odd person asking for a wish or potion.

Well, this time, fine gentlemen came running into the store and hid behind a shelf that covered him from the view of the front door.

I watched as he squatted even lower when a car drove past, trying to light into the shop and going along for a moment.

The guy looked up for a minute, then over to me.

Hey, do you need anything, or are you just here to loiter?

Look, I was tired, man, and I was like half an hour away from unpinning my needle from the doll.

Mentally, I was checked out already.

So when the guy pointed a gun at me, I actually rolled my eyes at him.

Again, I thought as I put my hands up.

I need a place to hide, he said quickly, looking back at the door and rushing over to me.

The cops are after me.

And that's when I noticed the blood on his clothes.

I sighed and looked over to King Creole's office, hoping he could handle this.

Of course, when I turned back around and saw him right behind this guy, I nearly shot myself.

What have we here?

He asked, putting his hand onto the other man's shoulder, flipping him around to face him.

The man gasped.

was quickly disarmed.

Need a place to hide, son.

What?

Said in confusion, but at the mention of hiding, he quickly pulled out a switchblade, pointing it up at Creole.

Where?

I need it quick, man.

Shouted, looking behind Creole to see if the cops were making another round.

Why?

Right this way, sonny.

Boss said with a happy tone, pulling the nameless man along and towards the basement.

Now, seeing that really sent my stomach down into a pit.

At this point, I had gotten used to the basement creature, but seeing some unsuspecting person getting led there felt bad for the man.

Faster, you freak.

They could be here any minute, man said, flinching at any little creak at the shop.

Creel took a sweet time, pulling out the key and opening up the basement, opening it up and stepping aside like a grand unveiling.

All yours, he hummed, watching with a wide smile as the man rushed into the dark basement, closing the door behind him and locking it.

And that's that.

Hummed, looking back at me with the same smile and walking over to me.

Uh, what's down there, sir?

Pointing at the basement door, Creole looked me dead in the eyes.

I could tell he wasn't messing around just by the tone of his voice.

None of your business, Travis.

He said in almost an animal-like snarl.

Swallowed the lump in my throat and backed up a bit, nodding up at him and flinching hard when the door began to be banged on.

Let me out!

There's something down here!

The man screamed, banging harder and harder on the door, the frame bending with just how hard he hit it.

Of course, those soon turned into loud screams as I assumed whatever lived in the basement caught up with him.

King Creole looked back at the basement door and waited for it to stop banging.

Soon enough it did.

We heard the sounds of something being dragged down the stairs.

I looked at him then.

Look of anger was on his pale face.

First time I'd ever seen him like that.

That whore gets what she deserves, he mumbled, low enough to where I assume he thought I couldn't hear.

Here I did.

I didn't say anything, wiping up the counter and unpinning my needle from the doll.

Good night, sir, said as I took off my name tag and shoved it into my pocket.

My words shook him from his angry spat, and he turned on his heels to look at me, a smile on his face once again.

Good night, Travis, my boy, He hummed, turning and walking off back to his office.

I nodded and turned to leave myself.

Stopped at the door, though, turning back and looking at the basement door.

Looked back over towards King Curill's office, and once I was sure he was in there, I made my way back over to the door.

I looked at it, noticing the blood coming from underneath the crack of the door.

Knelt and tried to peer through the keyhole.

I didn't see anything at first, just the usual blackness of the basement.

Sighed and stood to leave till I heard a soft thud come from the door.

I turned and raised a brow to that.

Leaning down again, I put my eye to the keyhole.

This time I was greeted by a green, shiny cracked eye.

Flinching hard, I backed up and quickly made my way out of the shop, shaking my head quickly and just getting out of there.

I don't know what King Creole has down there, and I really don't want to know either.

Even if whatever it is keeps begging me to let it out.

Interesting.

Interesting, interesting.

This is certainly fun.

I see why people made the connection to.

Oh no, I click on part four and there's a not safe for work.

oh no oh no um

i certainly see why people make the connection between tales from the gas station because it kind of has that note of like a disinterested like uh employee who just puts up with the supernatural stuff that's happening but there is

there is a note to this one where there's like um a curiosity to it our protagonist has that travis has um

where he's kind of like he's disinterested about stuff like being robbed but he is curious about like what's the thing in the basement, stuff like that.

And I think those little questions go a long way.

I think too, I think that this has just a bit more sinister, like I think that there's going to come a time when, like, I don't know, they're really setting up

King to be a very like bubbly, happy guy, but we're getting more and more of these moments where the facade's kind of broken, you know?

Yeah, when he said that line, the whore gets what she deserves, I think he's talking about the thing in the basement.

Yeah, yeah,

the green cracked eye thing for sure.

Yeah,

so that's it.

It makes me ask these interesting questions and stuff.

Like, the story's fun.

I like the fun notes.

I like the idea that two people tried to rob it.

One of them got thrown to the thing in the basement.

The other was turned.

Like, they were, I imagine they were ripped to shreds and then their pieces used to make the voodoo doll, like their souls trapped in it or something.

And King Creole collects these souls.

That's a neat touch.

It's a very interesting

dynamic.

I think it's a ton of fun.

Using a voodoo, the half-priced voodoo store as a setting for it's a lot of fun.

It's just, it's a cool story.

I'm vibing so far.

Yeah, I think that there's enough humor in it so far, too, that it's been fun.

But then there's also kind of brutal moments like that.

I'm hoping that we get a little deeper into some of the other kind of gruesome things outside of these wishes and stuff.

Like, what else is he doing?

I'm curious if he's kind of like a Hellraiser vibe where he's just like this angel of death kind of thing, you know?

I could see that.

I also like the detail that it's slowly getting more detailed.

Because the first one was just like, I work at a voodoo store, but each one's giving like more specific instances.

We get more of an idea of what's happening.

So I'm excited to keep reading.

At least I say that, you know, right now.

Again, part four had a not say for work tags.

This one does have a nice safe for work, so let's see what happens here.

Let's see if this becomes like everything else we do all the time forever.

So let's go.

Part four.

So at this point, I'm pretty sure you guys have a pretty good grasp of what King Creole is like as a boss.

He's creepy and a murderer by most definitions of the law, right?

Also, I got to mention Travis is

a ride or die, just no snitching.

Like, need me to get rid of a gun, sir?

Got it.

He's his main bitch, dude.

Earlier, when he's like, all right, well, I guess I'm getting off.

I just pictured him walking off with like high heels on.

He was just like

clicking out of the store.

All right, we'll see you next time.

Like, it's like pimply ass walking out.

Do you mean to leave the lights on, sir?

Yeah, something like that.

I mean, the button eyes and sewn-up mouth should have been a dead giveaway to that.

Well, he has ways of surprising you.

Like some pointed out, he defended me during the robbery and the runaway convict situation.

That alone sort of tipped the scales to him being pretty all right.

Well, something happened a few days ago that really changed my perspective on him.

Oh no.

That intro combined with the not safe for work tag?

Oh no.

It was a lazy Saturday.

I was leaning back on my newly upgraded rocking chair.

That's right, folks.

No more crappy stool.

Old buddy boy Travis has a rocking chair now.

Take that, desk jockeys.

Anyway, I was rocking on the chair, enjoying how good it felt to have back support when the rusty doorbell rang.

Looked over at the door and saw nobody there.

Odd, but not out of the ordinary in this place.

Figured it was some ghost or something.

Until I heard the sounds of tiny straining and a little hand came up from the other side of the counter.

Raised my brow at that, quickly looked to the wall of voodoo dolls.

Had one escaped again?

I thought to myself.

But my train of thought was derailed when a childlike voice pulled my attention back over.

Excuse me?

Hunter.

Hunter.

What?

Innocent and just a little shy.

I stood up from my rocking chair and looked over to see a little girl standing there by herself.

Hunter.

Oh, come on, please.

It's not going to go there.

It's not going to go there.

Hunter.

It's not going there.

Hunter.

These people and our audience, they think it's funny to do this.

And then, you know, the worst part is they complain about it.

They set, they tee us up for this kind of failure, and then they get mad that we read it.

Okay, but it hasn't happened yet.

You're right.

You're right.

You're right.

She looked to me about in the second or even first grade.

Her little hands quickly went behind her back and she looked up at me.

Uh, hello, little girl.

Are you lost?

I asked her, looking around the shop for any sign of a parental figure.

Didn't take me too long, considering how small this place is.

I want a wish, she said softly, looking up at me and giving a soft pout.

The kind a kid gives when they expect the answer to be no, but they still want to shoot their shot.

Uh uh oh, um, let me go get my boss, okay?

I wasn't exactly trained to handle children, much less one looking to ask for a wish, and having seen my fair share of wishes in this place, I almost wanted to talk her out of it.

But a job is a job.

Turning to go to Creole's office, I was surprised to see him already leaving it.

Pulling on his suit to straighten it out and patting down some dust off of it.

I need you to watch the shop while I began to say, but his button eyes quickly turned to see the little girl standing at the counter.

It was too busy looking up at the wall of voodoo dolls to notice us.

Well, I'll be,

said in a bewildered voice.

Yeah, she came in here asking for a wish.

I was just about to come and get you.

Explained, looking back over to the mystery girl.

She was busy looking wide-eyed at the dolls available.

It's like she'd never seen a toy before.

A wish, huh?

Walking over to the little girl and clearing his throat.

Oh, little Miss Olivia, he asked, bending down to his knees to get on her level.

Little girl turned around and to my surprise didn't flinch at all at King Creole's appearance.

In fact, she had stars in her eyes when she saw him.

Are you the wish man?

she asked asked quickly and excitedly.

Why?

I do believe I am.

He responded after a chuckle and a smile.

The smile was different than the one he usually wore.

Hunter.

I don't know.

Also, the voice that I'm doing, I'm imagining that the girl is Gypsy Rose, by the way.

So just keep that in mind.

Keep that in your mental, your mind's eye.

Hello!

Like Gypsy Rose Rosen now or when she was yeah!

I don't care.

You either one of them.

I wish my mom was back.

I'm just gonna roll over that one.

Yeah, we can cut that one out.

No, we're not cutting it.

But I just want it.

No, we're not cutting it.

We're not cutting it.

I just want it to be known.

Girl.

That I didn't participate when you did that.

But I think the part of what you've said should be left in.

All right.

His normal smile always gave off an air of creepy judgment.

Like someone knowing the person they were talking to was inferior.

But a smile this time seemed genuine.

Can you grant me a wish?

No, I am just thinking about Gypsy Rice.

You killed it immediately.

The girl, named Olivia, as you read before, asked quietly, looking up at the voodoo man with all the passion of a girl at her age could have.

I wanted to grant her a wish just for that.

I'm afraid you're too young, darling.

I can't good conscience grant you a wish.

Taking off his hat as if in silent apology.

See Olivia's heartbreak clear in her face.

She dropped like a dying flower immediately.

Her arms behind her back

coming to the surface.

And that's when I noticed all the bruises on them.

Hunter.

She's going to fucking ask for...

Oh, wait, wait!

Keep going.

Keep going.

Creole saw them as well.

I mean, I know where this is going.

He's going to defend her.

No, no, no, keep going.

Just keep going.

Okay.

Creole saw them as well.

His attention turned to it and he took the girl by the arm, gently lifting her tiny, pale and bruised arm up and looking at her.

Who did this to you?

Livia looked like she was holding back the floodgates.

They finally broke as she started crying and hiccuping.

Using her free arm to wipe her face as she cried.

But she managed to blurt out an answer to Creole.

My mommy!

Gypsy!

Me!

I was like, why is that so funny?

And I forgot

what bit you had had set up a moment ago.

Literally, King Creole is going to be the fucking online person she met that she starts having sex with.

And she's like, yeah, King Creole, you should go and stab my mom 35 times.

Stab my mom.

I think, for one, I think King Creole is going to do that anyway.

Yeah, 100%.

I think that's where this is going.

As if on cue, front door slammed slammed open, nearly breaking a shelf near it as a woman came into the shop.

I could tell she was Olivia's mother by the resemblance of her to her crying daughter.

Olivia!

What in the hell are you doing in this place?

Is her mom Scary Carrie?

Her mom's Gypsy's mom.

Yeah,

I'm a dainty little princess.

Big old girl.

Big old woman.

Olivia!

Coming over with a look of rage on her face.

Wow, wow.

wow, calm down there, darling.

Little Miss Olivia was simply asking for a wish-whiz-hall.

Creole said, springing up and quickly pushing Olivia behind him.

I acted as well, motioning for the girl to come over to be behind the counter.

She reacted accordingly, coming over to me and hugging my pants like.

She shouldn't have left where I told her to stay.

The woman spat in my boss's face.

I could smell the alcohol on her from here.

Figures.

I'm not paying for whatever she asked for.

Olivia, get your ass over here.

Get the car.

She screamed.

You have ruined this entire dynamic for me.

No, it's good.

No, it's your fault.

Because now, in my head, it's the voodoo man from Princess and the Frog standing next to a man dressed as a prostitute as Gypsy Rose cowers behind him and Gypsy Rose's mother is yelling.

Like the gaggle,

the incomprehensible

gaggle.

I need you to help me, Andrea.

The incomprehensible gaggle of people in this store is completely throwing off.

Get her away from me.

She's a bad woman.

Stop with that.

What?

It's me.

Hello.

I'm not paying for whatever the hell she asked for.

Aaliyah,

Get your ass over here and get the car!

She screamed in my direction.

I reached a hand out and patted the girl's head as she shivered violently against me.

I assure you, ma'am, you don't have to pay for anything.

Creole hummed, holding his hands up defensively against the woman's gabs and accusations.

Why, all she asked for was a doll.

And I'm mighty inclined to get a one.

He hummed, fixing his tie as she walked past the angry mother.

Walked over to the wall of the voodoo dolls and hummed as he looked up at the wall, pointing his finger out as if to try and find the right one, snapping when he found it.

Reaching out, he took the correct doll and brushed it off, blowing on it and sending the dust into the mother's face, sending her on a coughing fit.

I smiled at that.

I smiled at that.

Seeing my boss stand up for this poor girl.

This poor little gypsy rose.

Miss Gypsy Rose.

No, no, no.

Okay, okay, okay, okay.

That's where I draw the line.

No, no, no.

No, no, no, no, don't do that.

That's what I wanted to say.

Rewriting the names of characters within the story to fit your sick little game.

Little Miss Innocent, metal-toothed mouth gypsy room.

No, okay.

Miss Olivia.

Miss Olivia.

He asked her.

And he walked over and passed the sputtering mother.

He once again got down at her level

and revealed the doll to her.

It was a small one, about the size of my forearm.

It was dressed in a black Victorian gown and had the hair to match, along with the button eyes of all the dolls we had in the store.

Livia, pulling herself away from my leg, looked down at the doll in awe, sniffing as she held both her bruised arms out.

King Creole carefully gave her the doll and smiled as she looked at it, brushing the doll's hair and quickly giving it a hug.

Thank you, she said softly, clinging to the item as she walked away from the counter to her mother.

That thing better not have Finny fleas,

she hissed, turning and grabbing Olivia's little arm and yanking her along.

Olivia gave one last forlorn look as she was dragged away.

Sad, rusty bell jingling as they both left.

Looked over to my boss, who was clearly as upset as I was.

Seem was more difficult for me than all the bad wishes I had ever seen working here, because of how hopeless it all seemed.

As if reading my mind, Creole put his hand on my shoulder and forced my gaze to look into his button eyes She'll be fine son.

I'll show you that he said nodding to me and tussling my hair sighing as he let me go and started back to his office the thing in the door banging every time I read the thing in the basement or something close to it I get I jump it scares me thing in the door banging as he walked past it causing him to freeze in place he looked to the door with a clenched fist and smashed his fist against it shut up you're never leaving this place He screamed at the door, his mouth widened as he gritted his teeth.

A few of his stitches ripped, causing him to cover his mouth and walk over to his office, slamming the door with a loud slam, leaving me alone with the uneasy feeling of being all alone in the shop.

The rest of the day was hard to get through.

All I could think about was poor Livy and her mother.

I sighed and sat back in my rocking chair.

Not much I could do.

I didn't know her last name, so I couldn't report her to CPS, so I resigned myself to listen to King Creole, who has never steered me wrong.

Only two other customers came in that day, and all they wanted was a wart removal potion and a heart attack potion.

Don't ask.

As I unpinned my pin from the doll on the counter, I looked over to Creole's office.

Walking over to it, I knocked three times.

Not hearing anything from inside, opened the door and poked my head inside.

Seeing Creole at his desk, sewing a doll at his office.

Obviously lost in whatever thoughts were dancing around in that head of his.

Sir, I'm going to head home.

I said bring it to his concentration and lifted his head to look at me.

Look confused for a second before looking over the clock on his wall and nodding, seemingly realizing what the time was.

Right, yes.

See you tomorrow, Travis.

Look, he said, like a robot.

Turned back to the dolly of sewing and said nothing more to me.

Nodded and turned to leave, letting the door to his office close behind me.

Walking away from his office, I stopped at the basement door, reaching into my pocket and pulling out that single shard of porcelain I'd kept all this time.

Run my fingers over it, looked to the door.

Please, let me out.

The voice of a woman came from behind the door.

Ooh, no pounding this time, just a soft and desperate voice of a woman.

She had a southern accent, but it sounded far away, like if she was talking to me from a hallway.

All I did was place a shard of porcelain at the foot door, slowly pushed it underneath the crack, turning and leaving for the day.

Got home and hugged my mom, just to thank whatever being is out there for giving me loving parents.

The next day, I still had Olivia in my mind, but I mostly resigned myself to just get through another day of work.

Walking into the shop, I saw King Creole standing at the counter.

Amused look on his pale face.

Smile only grew as I got closer.

Good morning, sir.

I said that look he was giving me, giving me a sharp chill up my spine.

Travis, my boy!

Did you try sneaking this underneath the door?

Oh, shit.

Yeah, I figured he would know.

It's also the reason he did that.

It's not stated, right?

He just felt the urge to push the porcelain under the door because that came from the girl that died in in part one, right?

Yeah, well, he found it down there, right?

And I think that he hears this innocent voice, so it could be an attempt to just be like, put it there and slide it under, and maybe it could help her somehow, you know, with a lock or something.

I don't know how big the porcelain piece is supposed to be, but

yes, the sweetest honey.

Lifting up the shard of porcelain, I tried to sneak under the door, audibly swallowed and nodded.

I was just trying to.

I don't know.

I thought I stammered, trying to give him the reasoning behind my apparent crime.

Travis, Travis, Travis.

He tissed, walking out from behind the counter and walking close to me.

Grabbed me by the collar and pulled me up close to him.

His smile turning into a scowl that turned my blood into ice.

Don't ever fucking give her anything.

Am I understood?

He growled, his yellow teeth sharpening as he spoke.

I'm a shit and pissed myself.

I'm a shit and pissed and calm

myself at his demeanor.

Quickly nodded, shivering as hard as a human could.

Yes, sir, I I promise.

Stuttered out, breathing hard once he released me, his smile returning and his teeth going back to normal.

Wonderful.

Now, you better clock in.

I'm expecting a very fun appointment today.

He hummed, spinning around on his heels, and walked into his office, walking past the basement door and into his office, letting the door close behind him.

Huffing hard, I walked to my rocking chair and set myself down, stabbing the doll on the head and rubbing my face hard.

Last time I would ever try to even look at that basement door, if that's how he reacted to my just returning something to it.

Blowing my phone out, used to get my mind off what had just happened.

Maybe an hour or two into my shift, my phone usage was interrupted by the front door flying open.

The rusty bell nearly flew off from its place as the door swung open and shut afterward.

Looked up and dropped my phone when I saw it was Olivia's mom, although she looked a little paler.

Her skin looked like Creole skin.

What the fuck did you give her?

She shouted as she stumbled to the counter, hacking and coughing violently, collapsing onto her knees just near me and looking up at me, sending me flying back further from my chair.

She had one eye dangling from its socket and the other one looked like it was made of milk chocolate and starting to melt.

She clawed her nails into the counter, pulled herself up, feeling around and grabbing my arm and pulling me close to her.

I don't know, man, I just work here.

Was all I could offer the woman, trying to get away from her as her one eye fell out with a gross-sounding plop.

She recoiled and stumbled backward, gasping, coughing, white puffy stuff coming out of her mouth and falling to the floor.

I knew what it was instantly.

It was doll stuffing.

Goodness, you're early.

Creole's cheery voice came.

I turned to see he was standing in his office door.

Strode his way over to the woman and grabbed her by her hair, pulling it upward so he could look into her eye sockets.

Now, dear, we can't have you losing your stuffing.

Chuckled, producing some thread and a needle.

What the fuck did you do to me?

Shouted, shoving him away and trying to stumble away, only for her leg to buckle underneath her, like an accordion.

Humans aren't meant to bend that way, if you didn't know.

Dear me, you're changing much faster than I first thought you would.

Creole chuckled, grabbing the woman again and yanking her up.

I was in shock at all this.

By this point, the woman's skin looked like one of the dolls we sell.

That's when it clicked for me.

She was turning into a doll.

Sir?

Spoke up, flinching when Creole slammed the woman onto my counter and started sewing her mouth shut.

Despite the woman's thrashing and quickly impinging appendages, he looked over to me with a quizzical look and smiled.

Be a good boy and hold it down, Travis.

Continuing to sew her mouth shut.

I looked to her and swallowed as I walked forward and quickly gripped her arms.

already feeling that there was not an ounce of bone left in them.

All I could feel was doll stuffing.

Closed my eyes as I held her down.

I'm not proud of this moment.

When he was finishing and finally allowed me to let go, King Creole gave her the finishing touches, sewing buttons into her empty eye sockets and smiling as he wiped his gloved hands clean.

Her present is all done.

Just gotta wait for her to shrink.

Chuckled, looking at me with an excited smile.

I gave him a confused look, my eyes wandering down the body.

stead still and looking very much like she belonged in the morgue.

The more I looked though, the more I realized that she was shrinking, inch by inch.

Well, at least I know where at least some of the voodoo dolls come from now.

I was left in charge of the doll while I waited for this mystery guest of his.

I already had an inkling who it was for, but with King Creole, you never know what to expect.

I sat and watched as this fully grown woman shrunk down to the size of a child, then a toddler, then to the size of my forearm.

And she was a doll, through and through.

I lifted her up and looked at her, waggled her around, finally left her on the counter.

When the door opened again, the first thing I saw was a woman in a Victorian-style dress coming close to me, her hands clasping in front of her and looking at me with a warm and motherly smile.

Good day, shopkeep.

I do believe my daughter would like to speak with you.

Oh, that's cool.

Yeah,

he gave her a mom.

I like that.

He gave her a mom, and the doll and the mom switched places.

That's neat.

She asked it in a soft British accent.

I looked at her, my jaw hitting the floor.

She was the doll, the Dolly King Creole had given Olivia.

As if to reinforce the point, tiny hand came up to pull on the big black dress.

The woman looked down and smiled, leaning down and lifting up the thing the tiny arm was attached to.

Where's Mr.

King Creole?

Livia asked with her big old happy eyes.

I looked at her and then at this woman who just yesterday had been a doll.

Looking back at Olivia, I opened my mouth to say something, but I was quickly cut off by Creole's office door opening and the voodoo man smiled so much I thought he'd bust a stitch.

My darling Olivia, how are you?

Yes, this like Olivia was a friend he hadn't seen in forever.

At his voice, Olivia smiled as wide as him and the woman put her down, letting her run up to my boss and giving his legs a hug.

Thank you so much for my new mommy, she hummed, nuzzling her face into him.

He chuckled and knelt down a bit, patting her head and motioning me to come over.

Took the doll off the counter and came over.

Getting on my knees with an old man grunting and handing the doll to Olivia, she gasped and happily accepted it, wrapping her tiny arms around it and thanking Creole a million times.

When all was said and done, Livia said her goodbyes, and her new mother took her by the hand and led her out the door.

This new mother turning around and waving goodbye to us and over to the voodoo dolls, who all waved back.

Oh, that's cool.

I do love happy endings.

Creole sighed, taking his hat off and rubbing his messy black hair.

Turning to me and raising a brow to my obvious uncomfortableness over the whole situation.

Don't worry, son.

She's in the best possible hands, he said, putting a hand on my shoulder.

Sir, how come you didn't hurt her?

Going back to all the times he'd caused horrible things to happen to anybody seemingly needing his help, he looked at me like I'd spoken Chinese at him.

Son, my mama always said, help those that truly need it.

Can you stand there and tell me she didn't need our help?

Yes, batting my shoulder and heading over to his office, leaving me with that train of thought for the rest of the day as I washed away all the blood left over from the old mother.

King Creole's a strange man.

He went from wanting to kill me for going near the basement door to hugging a child that he had saved from an abusive mother.

I still deal with the back and forth of his personality.

I don't think I'll ever understand him.

I don't expect to.

All I want to know is what is in the basement that causes him so much rage?

See, at first I was wondering if in the basement.

First off, I just want to say that might be our first wholesome ending ever on the show, and I really loved it.

God,

thank God.

Well, what if we got that not safe for work and there was a kid?

Do you think he did that to

bait the normal

stuff that's happening?

So, if you have a story that involves child abuse, you're supposed to tag it.

Oh, or it'll get tagged not safe.

Well, even then, it's handled in a great way.

I have just like the bruises on the arm.

You do have the mom that's not, it's not that explicit.

No, no, no.

But it's effective, though.

Like, you know, you do feel bad for Olivia there.

I do, I just, I don't know.

It's like a fun.

It's like Tales from the Crypt meets,

what was that?

What was that?

Westside,

Westside Stories from Westside or like Wayward Stories.

You remember that book from back in the day?

Westside Stories.

Not Westside Stories.

It's

What was it called?

It was by the same guy.

Hold on a second.

The guy who wrote Holes.

He wrote a book called

Give me a second.

Wayside School.

So it's like Wayside Stories or whatever.

It's a collection of a bunch of stuff of like random things that happen throughout the day, whatever.

Hold on a second.

It's going to fucking drive me insane.

Wayside School.

Yeah.

I had this book when I was younger and I fucking loved it.

I was like, this shit's awesome.

Oh, sideways stories from Wayside School.

That's what it is.

My God.

Took fucking forever, but I got there.

I just, I don't know.

There's like a level of innocence with these that are really nice.

I mean, also, too, I just want to say the visuals of the woman turning into a voodoo doll was fucking sick.

And I wanted to say as well at the end of it when he's like, my mama always said this.

At first, I thought that maybe it was a relative or something, like maybe it was his mom in the basement that had, you know what I mean?

Like some kind of weird fucking demon woman or something like that, to where that was also why he connected with Olivia so hard.

Could be.

Could be.

I also think.

Well, I don't think it'd be that.

I'm curious to see what's in there.

I don't know if it's his mom because I don't think he would have said, my mama always said to help people that are in need or whatever.

I don't feel like he would reference her.

In my mind, it's like a former romantic interest or something like that.

Ooh, I mean, that'd be sinister.

She broke my heart, so I keep her in a box.

Well, I mean, he kills like he kills a girl who wanted acne taken care of and stuff like that, right?

To be fair, it is like you're saying, I mean, I don't think that the woman that wanted her acne clear should have died.

I think that's a bit.

He is a murderer, but it was vanity in a way.

Like, it seems like it's like, you know, the other people tried robbing the store.

The other guy was threatening, you know, threatening Travis's life.

It seems like the people that are asking for this stuff usually get their comeuppines, and it's usually selfish.

Like, I wonder if somebody was just like, oh, I want you to help this person if he would do it.

If it was a selfless request, you know?

Yeah.

Yeah.

Yeah.

Potentially.

Like he said, if anyone needs help, help them.

I think I kind of get the idea that he used to be a human at some point.

Like he was normal and then a spell happened to him or something like that.

I love the idea that the voodoo dolls like can become people and like they all like when the mother leaves she the new mother leaves she waves at all the voodoo dolls and they wave back.

That's a fun motif.

I thought that was like

you said this it's so rare to have a feel-good story in one of these well and it's connected.

I was really bought in and you still have the elements of horror in there.

It's just what a what a fun that that that so far is my favorite one by far.

Like that's I really enjoyed part four a lot.

And I will say too, do you think that maybe the woman was the person who changed him into this thing?

Maybe.

Yeah.

Yeah, that would make sense.

Why did he say it was a green cracked eye he saw too?

Yeah, that's all he saw.

Which makes it sound like it's a doll, kind of.

That's what I was going to say.

It sounds like a green

button.

Like a green button eye or something.

Yeah.

Could be.

All right, part five.

Part five.

Yeah, the more I work here at Old King Creole's half-price voodoo shop, the more I start to question how the hell I never noticed it before.

Now, I'm ready to admit I'm no Einstein when it comes to this town.

Sure, I've lived here my whole life, but even then I'm still discovering new places.

I didn't even know we had a Denny's near us until last week.

But the fact that so many of our customers are high school kids makes me wonder, how come I never heard of this place before?

Then I look back at my track record of socializing in school and remember, oh yeah, that's why I never learned of this place.

I think the reason I have to clean up so many messes here is that a majority of our customers are indeed stupid high school kids.

They barge in here thinking they got away around King Creole's game and every single time I'm the poor idiot that has to clean up their stupid mess.

It's to the point where anytime I see a teenager come into the shop I instinctively reach behind the counter for some rubber gloves because I know I'll have to wipe them off what's left of them off the floor and walls.

I think the worst case of this was when a group of four kids walked in.

They were seniors and I'm pretty sure they were about to graduate.

I came into the shop while I was busy actually getting to stock something for once.

We just had someone come in and buy a decent amount of voodoo dolls, so I was finally able to stock them.

Use a male stool, managed to just put them all in place when the bell rang and this group of kids came in.

It was three girls and a guy who had his arm around the blonde girl.

A couple, I assumed.

The other two girls seemed to have just tagged along for this ill-fated journey to my place of employment.

The guy looked over to me and shot me that head movement all of guys make to each other.

You know the one.

Hey guys.

I said, getting off my stool and heading to the counter, sitting on my rocking chair and making sure all my cleaning supplies were in view.

What can I do you for?

I asked, realizing I was picking up on some of Creole's fancy southern talk.

We heard there were wishes here, and since we're about to graduate, we figured why not try them out?

Guy said, letting his girlfriend go and going over to the shelf of voodoo dolls, getting in real close and looking at them.

The girls, meanwhile, didn't wander too far from him, since they no doubt were afraid of all the cobwebs around.

Fair enough.

Yep.

Do all of you want one?

I asked, dreading the answer I expected.

Guy and his girlfriend nodded, while only one of the girls, a black-haired girl in a blouse, responded as well with a nod.

Last girl in her hoodie though just shook her head.

Figured she just got dragged here.

Travis, my dear boy, seems you've brought in quite a bit of customers.

Creole hummed, walking over to me from seemingly nowhere.

He does that a lot, and smiling at the group of students, all of whom instantly backed up a couple of feet in shock at my boss's appearance.

Wow, freaky costume, man.

Guy said chuckling, trying to keep up a brave face in front of his girl, but I could tell he was seconds away from pissing himself.

All the girls had the same expression.

What can I do you for, Jacob?

Bossman asked, looking at me.

I was wondering why, until I realized my rocking chair was taking up space he needed to get to the counter.

So I just easily backed up a bit and let him do his thing.

Pulling out my phone, which had a dead battery, said I decided to watch the inevitable horror that was about to come my way.

Man, you're freaky as fuck.

Jacob chuckled, clearing his throat and coming forward with as much moxy as he could muster.

Okay,

I wish to get into my dream college.

Full ride, so I don't have to pay for anything.

He declared, confidently crossing his arms at King Creole.

I had to hand it to him.

That was a pretty airtight wish.

I couldn't think of really any way for Creole to mess with that wish.

Well, until his girlfriend spoke up.

What the fuck, Jacob?

Girlfriend shouted, coming over to Jacob and pounding him with her fist over and over again.

You're trying to find a way to leave me, aren't you?

She shouted, grabbing him and thrashing him around.

She seemed the clingy type.

No, you crazy bitch.

I'm trying to secure my future.

He shouted, shoving her away and rolling his eyes as if this had been an ongoing issue.

Me and Creole looked at each other and just shrugged.

Wasn't our business to give these two couples therapy.

Suddenly, the girl pushed past her boyfriend and up to the counter, slamming her fist down on the dusty countertop and staring up with wild eyes to King Creole.

I wish that jackup will never leave my side.

What a great, what a great wish.

God,

I'm like, oh, God.

There we go.

Awesome idea.

Causing Jacob to come over and grab her, pulling her away from us.

Well,

King Curill is like, I don't even have to try for this.

Yeah, exactly.

King began, bringing a hand up and starting to rub his chin.

My mama told me that lady should go first.

Smiled, shrugging and snapping his fingers, causing Jacob to stop in his tracks as he stopped thrashing around with his girlfriend.

Looked looked at her with a new look in his eyes and started to kiss her.

Now that's more like it.

She giggled, wrapping her arms around him and making out of the shop.

I rolled my eyes at this.

Yes, I'm horribly single.

Leave me alone.

Although what happened next kind of helps me feel better about being single.

She suddenly shouted in pain, trying to shove him off of her.

For good reason, since he had gotten a thread and needle and was starting to stick it into both of their skins.

I need to be closer to you.

She shouted in a crazed tone, starting to pick up speed as she screamed louder, trying to get away from him.

Well, that went about as well as I expected it to go.

He managed to pin her to the floor as he started to sew the two of them together.

Two other girls were screaming and cowering together as they watched the scene.

Since Jacob appears to be preoccupied,

Creole said with a chuckle, turning his attention to the two remaining girls.

Would you ladies like to try your luck?

said with a smile, his fingers drumming on the counter as he waited.

The black-haired girl quickly looked at the the hoodie girl and shoved her away, backing up from everything and looking back at the door.

I wish I could just live the rest of my life never seeing you again.

Oh my gosh.

She shouted, packing up and getting to the door.

Creole shrugged and nodded to her.

If that's what you wish for, said looking back at her and motioning forward to shoe with his hands.

The girl nodded and turned, opening the door and running out at full speeds.

Shame she didn't see that car

30 seconds afterwards.

I flinched at how sudden it just happened.

Like, she was out of the shop and dead in a good 10 seconds.

That's funny that

that's a bit of a jerk for me.

It's like, I don't want to see you.

It's like, oh, right, have you considered being dead?

Well, I just like I did hit my semi-watch.

He's like, cool, all right.

Well, I'll see you later.

And then it just, of course, he's just not going to let her get away that easily.

Of course, yeah.

The last girl remaining was screaming her head off as she saw the girl get hit by the car.

Let's just say that Jacob and his girlfriend were closer than they were ever going to be.

He and her were sewn together nice and tight, and bleeding everywhere.

Please don't kill me.

Girl mumbled, collapsing the floor and shivering, shaking her head and pulling her hoodie down, revealing some nice long red hair.

Looking over at her, I did feel pretty bad.

She seemed like the one who had been dragged here unwillingly by her friends.

Is that a wish, darling?

My boss asked, stepping away from the counter and over to the sewn-up bodies wriggling on the floor.

Looking over at her, she answered with a fast shake of her head.

Then, what you wish?

He asked, poking at the sewn together couple with his finger, showing some amusement from it.

I don't want anything.

She mumbled, curling up into the fetal position, shaking violently and looking at me like I was going to come in and save her.

Well, I get paid by this man, so I can't really offer much help.

Shame.

If that's the case, then please leave my shop.

I don't take kindly to Lloyders.

He tissed the front door swinging open.

The girl looked up quickly and then to the two of us, cautiously standing up and walking out of the shop, making sure to keep on the sidewalk as she started running away.

Want me to clean up, sir?

I asked Creel after an awkward silence.

Looking over to me, he smiled and chuckled.

If you wouldn't mind, son, he answered, looking at the sewn couple and then over to the basement door.

I could tell from his face he was trying to figure out a way of getting them down there.

I, meanwhile, was already getting the mop ready.

Need help moving them?

I asked him as I set the bucket down and started filling it with bleach and soap.

A decent way to hide the blood, but if the cops ever shine that stuff that shows hidden blood splatters, this place would look like a cheap hotel room.

Hmm.

I might.

Tiss looking back over the basement with a sneer.

All right.

Help me move them to the door and

leave them there.

I'll head down there and we can just roll them down it and I'll say it's all right.

Not having much of a choice since I offered to help, I helped him pick them up and carry them close to the door.

The girl gurgling something incoherent at me, since her and Jacob's mouse had been sewn together.

Assumed it was a plea for help.

Once they were down at the foot of the door, Creole unlocked it and opened it.

I peeked from behind his shoulder to see if I could get a good look, but nothing but blackness stared back at me.

All right, looks like we can just kick them down there.

Creole hummed, placing his dress shoe on the wriggling mass and shoving it down the stairs.

The wet smacking and rolling were heard for a good solid 30 seconds.

We waited, the door still open.

Then we heard rapid crawling coming towards us.

Before I could see the mysterious basement creature, Creole slammed the door closed and locked it tight.

Well, I said after a decent amount of silence, I'll start cleaning.

Backing away from Creel and heading back to mopping bucket, starting to wipe away all the evidence of our latest crime.

When I looked back at the basement, King Creel was still standing there.

He was looking at the basement with his usual anger, or wordlessly, just walking back over to his office.

I let him go, continuing to do the part of the job I hated most.

I was busy mopping, contemplating if I really should have gone into college.

The door opened up and I heard the familiar words of, Hands in the air.

I turned my hands quickly, my mop hitting the floor as I turned to look at who's holding me up this time.

Turned out, it was a cop.

Shit.

My arms straightened up quicker when I saw it was a cop this time and not some idiot trying to rob us.

Those thoughts of college were really starting to seem much more appealing.

Turn around and step away from the mop bucket, he ordered me.

I did as I was told, heading over to the back wall.

Cop closed the distance and slammed me against the wall, slapping some cuffs on me and throwing me to to the ground, putting his gun to my back.

Where's your boss?

He asked, grabbing my head up so I could answer him.

Office!

Over there!

Motioned towards his office.

With that, the officer let my head go, which slammed down into the wooden floor, giving me a good-sized bruise in my forehead.

I rolled over to see what was going to happen.

This was the first time I ever had a run-in with cops in this place before.

You!

In there!

Come out with your hands out!

The officer shouted, gun trained on the door and waiting for anyone to comply with that order.

I, meanwhile, strained to try and see what was going to happen.

When suddenly, my arms went limp and I was suddenly free of my cuffs.

Pulling my hands out, I looked down to see the voodoo doll template holding the cuffs.

Turns out that thing doesn't hate me that much after all.

Opening the door, Creole stared at the gun in his face and then over to the officer.

Stitched mouth and a smile as he looked at the man.

Rookie?

Rookie?

Your sergeant should have told you you're not allowed in here.

Sighed looking past him to look at me on the floor.

An assault to my employee?

Shame on you.

The voodoo man sighed, suddenly getting grabbed by the officer and tossed onto the floor quickly.

Keep your mouth shut, you fucker.

What'd you do with that body?

He shouted, putting his foot on Creole's back.

I felt afraid for the officer.

Handling King Creole like that in his own shop would not end well.

And end well it did not.

The second his foot was put on King Creole's back, every single voodoo doll on the wall came to life, staring at the officer and jumping off their places on the wall, hissing and screeching at him as they all rushed towards him.

The officer looked at the sound of the noise and let out a shout as he tried shooting them.

He got two shots off before they swarmed him.

The best way I can describe what they did to him was piranhas eating a cow in the Amazon.

They swarmed over him and ripped chunks of flesh off his body.

I can never stand rude idiots.

Creole hissed, angrily standing up and dusting himself off, walking over the rapidly disintegrating cop body and coming over to me, offering me a hand and pulling me back up.

Sorry you had to see that, he said, dusting me off.

His attention then turned towards the squad car waiting outside, his button eyes staring at the car, and he made his way over to the door, stepping outside the shop for the first time since I started working here.

Looked over at what was left of the officer, bloody uniform, and nothing else.

In a split second, I wasn't paying attention.

All the voodoo dolls had returned to the wall and now had some accessories with with them.

Some bones and skin pieces.

My little template friend was back on the counter, still giving me the sink eye for probably not cleaning up.

I was going to until a girl's scream caught my attention.

Creole was dragging that redhead back into the shop.

She was trying with all her might to keep from being dragged away.

Oh no.

Her nails, yeah.

She went and she snitched.

Yeah.

Her nails clawing at the wooden floor and spreading blood everywhere once her nails had been broken and destroyed.

She cried and begged not to be heard as she was dragged towards the basement door.

This will show you to not misplace my good graces.

Creole shouted, grabbing her by the hair.

When she caught the side of the counter, gripped it with all her might.

Dragging her by the hair, got to the basement door, opening it, dragging the redhead down into the depths.

Creole didn't need to tell me to shut the door behind him.

I went back to cleaning the bloody mess that was left behind, stuffing the officer's uniform into the trash bag, and set that aside as I mopped up every piece of blood I could see.

I've gotten surprisingly good at this.

Something about that girl's demise, though, didn't sit right with me.

Out of everything he's done to people, hers was the one that rubbed me the wrong way the most.

Not like I can do anything about it.

Cops are clearly out of the question.

Looking over to the basement door, I sighed as I sat back in my rocking chair when all the cleaning was done.

My eyes closed in an exhaustion.

I didn't get much time to rest.

Creel returned after nearly an hour and a half, blood on his suit and a pale face.

Swallowed hard as he came over to me, staring at me with those blood-splattered button eyes.

Travis, my boy, you've been so very helpful these past few months that I think a raise is in order.

Smiled, his yellow teeth back to being shark fangs.

How about 30 an hour?

He hummed, tilting his head at me.

Looked back at him with a bewildered look, quickly nodding without thinking.

Smiled and rustled my messy brown hair and pulled out my pay for the week.

Take tomorrow off, he ordered when I took my pay.

Looked up at him and nodded quickly.

No way in hell I was going to question him.

Packing up, I unstuck my pin and took the officer's uniform in the trash bag and threw it away.

Making my way home as I sighed hard, rubbing my face as I thought about that poor girl being dragged into whatever the hell waited her down in that basement.

We've had some unjustifiable deaths so far, or not unjustifiable, but we've had some where you're like, you know, a girl asked for acne, you don't deserve that.

But I will say the one person who didn't like request anything, they're like the first person that was actually selfless, you know, like even went to the police and was like, hey, this happened to these people I know, these friends I have, a Good Samaritan, and she just gets absolutely destroyed.

But it is.

I mean, it's like, you know, they can't have police showing up, right?

You gotta do what you gotta do.

Yeah, or it seems like the police don't even know.

Like, it seems like

well, it sounds like the police force does because when he opens up, Mr.

King Creole says, Oh, rookie, your sergeant must not have told you

to come in here.

So, yeah, it seems people who are familiar with the area know.

Really love the sewn together part of that.

Like, I thought it was going to be that they just magically start fusing together or whatever, but I like the idea of like an obsessive guy basically pinning someone to the floor and just start sewing their body together in like a horribly mutilated way pretty gruesome yeah

and it's nice to have that massive garbage disposal thing in the basement you can just throw stuff into yeah exactly

all right part six part six part six ever since the redhead incident i was wary of going back to work i've never really cared about the people who get what they ask for whenever they don't think a wish through but she wasn't there for a wish she didn't want anything she was just there.

Yeah, she brought a cop to the shop, but if I was her, I'd do the same thing.

Whatever happened to her down in the basement, she didn't deserve it.

My day off was spent mostly in my room sulking, just wrapped up in blankets and contemplating the many horrible things I had done for King Creole, when my mom came in and knocked on my door.

Travis, a couple of police officers are here looking for you.

What the hell did you do?

She asked in a confused and scared tone at the same time.

As far as I know, she thinks I'm selling crack for all the money that I'm getting.

I swallowed as I tossed my blankets away and made my way past her and down to the lobby of our house.

Two officers were standing there and looking up at me.

Travis, can we please talk to you outside?

The older man said, brushing his grey hair back and placing his hat back on.

I nodded wordlessly and looked back at my parents, who were staring at me from the kitchen as I was led outside into the cold autumn afternoon.

Put my hands in my hoodie pocket and looked up at the officers, my face betraying that I was nervous as all hell.

Is this about King Creel?

I asked after a prolonged silence.

My eyes widened when the officer nodded.

Looked around quickly before the older one took his hat off again and looked at me dead in the eyes.

Tell him that we're sorry for the trouble that one of the rookies caused him.

We didn't have time to radio him and tell him to wait for backup.

That's great.

The man said in a quick, nervous tone.

My jaw fell to the floor at just how desperately this cop was apologizing to me.

I can tell him tomorrow when I go back to work, offered the man.

Breathed a long, hard sigh of relief and nodded quickly, taking a notepad out and a pencil.

Tell him the agreement with the department still stands and that we're so terribly sorry about what happened.

Said, scribbling something on his notepad and ripping it out.

Handing it to me, I looked down at the note, which was basically just what he had told me, but in written form.

I guess in case King Creole didn't believe me.

Yeah, okay.

I nodded, putting the page in my hoodie pocket and shaking both of their hands.

Then wordlessly, walking back into my house and walking past my parents, who bombarded me with questions.

I didn't answer them.

Just going back to my room and collapsing back on top of my bed, pulling the covers over myself and resigning myself to dealing with all this some other day.

That's pretty cool that like, again, his like kind of passiveness to it where he's like, yeah, whatever.

In spite of how major this is.

Making my way to work the next day, I sighed as I entered the familiar dusty shop, walking over to the counter and sticking my needle back into the template, looking back at the basement door, which was eerily silent, shaking my head and reaching into my pocket, walked over to Creole's office and knocked three times, standing back a bit and waiting for the boss man.

He didn't leave me waiting for too long, as he soon opened the door and smiled big and wide when he said it was me.

Travis, how was your day off?

I missed you, my boy.

Chuckled, coming fully out of his office and giving me a hug, which I half-heartedly gave back.

It was fine, sir.

Um, the police came and told me to give you this, said, reaching into my pocket and handing him the handwritten note.

Looked at it quizzically and took it from me, looking down with his button eyes and that smile on his face growing wide enough to strain stitches on his mouth.

God, marvelous.

I was beginning to think that they had forgotten about our little old me.

Chuckled, sticking the note to his suit and smiling.

I do apologize again for you being roughed up so badly as you were, Travis.

Tiss put in a hand around me and leaded me back to my counter.

It's fine, sir.

It didn't hurt that badly.

I said, rubbing the bruise on my forehead a bit.

Only stung if I touched it, really.

Lucky for me, my hair is long enough that I can hide it behind my bangs.

Pays to never get a haircut sometimes.

Good, good.

I do enjoy your company in the shop.

Even your little friend was missing you.

Chuckled, tapping the template doll on its head, looked at it, and for once wasn't giving me a stink eye.

Glad I'm not such an ass to it after all.

Keep up all the good work, son.

Creole said, giving me a firm pat on the back and leaving me to run the front end once again.

Doing my usual ringing up at the odd customer, I was soon enough met with something that did make my day a little better.

Livia usually came back to the shop every Saturday with her new mother, so it's always a little ray of sunshine to see her so happy.

My doll broke!

Of course you remember the voice.

She said with a sad little pout, holding up the doll of what used to be her mom and showing that the arm indeed came off.

Can Mr.

Kim Creole Vincent?

She asked sadly, like this was the absolute end of the world.

I looked up at her new mother who looked at me with this blank gaze.

Well, I thought then it was blank.

Now I think it was one of worry and pity.

I didn't have to go get Creel when he threw open the door to his office and came over to Olivia, who ran to him and gave him a hug like he was her long-lost father.

He smiled and giggled with her as he took her doll in her hand, leading him to her office.

Are you aware of what awaits you?

Olivia's new mother asked me out of the blue, her soft British accent in a low and whispering tone.

I looked at her with a confused look.

What do you mean?

I asked, sitting up in my rocking chair and looking at the voodoo template.

Taking it off the counter and placing it on the floor, looking back at her for more information.

She looked at the wall of voodoo dolls behind her and leaned in close to me.

He's using you.

You need to get out of here before it's too late.

She said in a soft, pegging tone, grabbing me by the hoodie strings and pulling me close.

Get away, she begged, quickly letting go of me and doing a full 180 of emotions.

Big, happy smile on her face as Olivia came back with her doll all fixed up.

Be more careful with her, darling.

She's fragile.

He instructed, giving Olivia a pat on her head and handing her back to her new mother.

Olivia nodded up to the voodoo man and took her mother's hand as she was led out of the store.

Mother looked back at me and a sad look came to her face.

After they were gone, I turned to King Creole and mustered all the non-existent strength I had.

Sir, why did you hire me?

Quickly placed the template back on the counter, putting my hands on the dusty surface.

The question seemingly caught him off guard as he looked at me like I'd spoken to him in an alien language.

He stared at me with those button eyes for a good long time, long enough for me to grow uncomfortable.

Same look he had gave me when I asked him about about the basement.

I just needed an extra hand, was all he said.

Oh

Okay, I nodded quickly, sinking away from his piercing gaze.

It felt like every button eye was looking at me in the shop.

It was a lifesaver when the front door opened and a customer walked in.

Creel instantly turned into the usual happy self and happily granted the person's wish of curing their cancer.

Shame about the heart attack they had right afterward.

See, that's what I mean.

He's playing the gambit too much.

It's like, oh, if you don't want to die?

Well, you can't not want to die if you're dead.

Yeah.

I mean,

he is a, he is

a pal.

Yeah.

He did one good thing.

I mean, at that, he stopped murdering his body.

He reminds me of like a mob boss, right?

You know what?

Well, I was going to say, he, he,

who the fuck, you ever see Death Note?

Yeah, yeah.

He kind of reminds me of like the shittingami in that, like the one that light has.

Yeah.

It's kind of that deal.

You know, it's just kind of like, well, you know, I don't interfere with anything, but then he's going to, like,

at the end of the day, he's like, I'm going to fucking kill you.

Like, that's just the kind of vibe of it, you know?

Yeah, it's like any of those like criminal things where it's like, um, you know, if I can help a kid on the street, I will.

Oh, what's that?

A family of five told the police.

Well, looks like I have to kill him.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

He's not a good guy.

Yeah.

As Creole took a hold of the dead body, he dragged it towards the basement and opened the door behind him.

Grunting as he tried to get a better grip on the cadaver, I was about to offer help to him when a white arm jutted jutted from the darkness of the open basement and wrapped around his neck.

You sneaky fucking whore, shouted, slipping off the first step of the basement and tumbling backwards into the darkness.

I watched the whole thing in abject horror.

The arm that grabbed my boss was one of porcelain.

I could tell this because of all the shards of it falling off of it when the two of them went tumbling down.

Yeah, okay, so that explains what the piece of porcelain is.

She's like a porcelain.

Not only that, but the cracked eye, too.

Yeah, yeah.

Makes more sense.

Staying up quickly, I look down to the basement.

An entire pile of porcelain shards waiting for me at the entrance of the door.

Sir?

Shouted down into the dark depths.

Do you need any help?

This was my paycheck on the line, man.

This was serious.

Do you think that that could have been his ex-worker or something?

Like, he's using you?

Do you think he's going to use his soul, put it into some kind of doll?

You know what I mean?

Like, I feel like

there's something that's setting up to like...

Maybe that was an ex-employee that he got bitter at or something.

Who knows?

Or like an ex-girlfriend even or something.

Could be.

Also, I like how the doll earlier, like now that it's a mother out on their own, is like, you need to get away.

Like even though she supposedly was something he created, she's still like, you have to get out of here.

Yeah.

I didn't hear anything from him and I looked down into the dark depths, swallowing the bile building in my throat, pulled my phone out and turned on the flashlight, clinched my fists as I took my first steps into the basement.

Took me a whole 30 seconds to take my second step just out of fear of whatever was going to come towards me in the darkness.

Sir?

Shout into the darkness again.

Taking a few more liberal steps before I froze again, I shone my flashlight deeply into the darkness and heard a fast scurry heading towards me.

Oh, fuck this!

Shouted quickly, turning and booking it upstairs.

Managed to get up there and put my hands on the door, flashing still shining down into the dark.

What met me was a woman, bodymade completely out of porcelain, crawling up the stairs at mock speeds towards me.

She wore a dirty and tattered white dress, and she was missing one of her eyes.

I didn't let her get far as I quickly slammed the door in her face and pushed full weight up against the door.

Let me out!

She screamed, smashing her hands against the door, cracking porcelain curd as she smashed and beat against the door.

Before he wakes up, please!

She screamed, confirming me that she subdued my boss, closed my eyes, and just kept my full weight against the door as she kept on banging.

I can't!

I have no choice!

Just keeping my eyes closed as she banged and pounded with futility.

I didn't know who this creature was and I didn't want to know.

What was going to stop me from ending up like her?

So I just kept against the door until she suddenly fell silent.

I was about to take my chances and just stayed against the door until a familiar voice came from behind the door.

Open the door, Travis.

Came the haggard and tired voice of my boss.

He cautiously looked at the door and backed away from it.

The knob turning and the figure of my boss coming out and slamming the door shut, locking it with the key, pounding his fist into the door.

Are you okay, sir?

I asked him, backing up to give him space.

He looked back at me, stitches to his mouth torn open as he covered it with his hand.

Nodding to me, he pointed to something behind me.

Looking, I saw the template was holding a spool of thread and a needle.

Nodding to him, I walked over and gave it to him, lifted his hand up, and quickly started to sew up his mouth.

Thick black liquid was dripping from his mouth as he sewed himself back up with expert precision, finishing it up under 30 seconds flat.

I'm fine, son.

She just got the drop on me.

Growled, tossing the spool back at me and working his lower jaw.

He then turned his attention back to me and grabbed me by the throat, shoving me into the wall and giving me a firm squeeze of my throat.

I told you never to fucking go down there.

I was worried about you.

Choked out, trying to pull him off me, gagging and looking pleadingly at him.

He gritted his teeth and dropped me, causing me to gag and choke for air as he walked away from me.

Looked up as he walked away from me, silently going into his office and slamming the door close.

Pulling myself up into my rocking chair, I breathed hard just trying to get my bearing.

Took a good hour for me to finally pull my phone out and shakily look at it.

What could I possibly do?

The police obviously wouldn't help me.

If they came to me to apologize for them coming here, I had no one to answer anything for me.

Except looked back at the basement door and walked over to it, stepping over to the still-dead customer.

I'm sorry.

I just...

I'm afraid of him.

Do you know anything about him?

Is there some way to stop him?

I asked into the keyhole, waited to see if the porcelain woman was still there.

I waited there, about to give up when a soft voice came back to me.

Charles.

Charles Sumner.

So all she whispered, going silent again and not responding again.

I nodded silent thanks to her, went to my counter, pulling up my phone, started my research.

Well, it turned out that the only thing, okay, this is actually really cool.

This is story development that like that is a woman he knew or whatever that's locked in the basement.

And then it's like, after

he tried to help help him and he pinned him against the wall choking him.

He's like, I have to do something.

But she gives him his real name.

So now King Creole, like if he can learn the history of King Creole, if it's like some antebellum South like voodoo ritual went wrong, I'm going to be all over this.

This is.

I hope.

That'd be sick.

It also kind of seems like a

I don't know.

My mind keeps going to like one, he doesn't kill, he hasn't killed him.

He's broken two rules.

If it was anybody else, I mean, you see, even with the the woman who called the cops whatever which have no have no authority over him right it's not like the cop could have done anything he's with uh king creel twice or broken his rules twice i almost think that he's using him as a host or a soul or something you know what i mean he needs he needs that kid right now he needs travis yeah yeah

probably well it turned out that the only thing i knew about charles sumner was the guy that got beat with a cane in the Senate before the Civil War.

So I don't think the internet's going to help me there.

Oh, yeah.

Isn't that the guy who Kansas-Missouri guy?

I'm pretty sure.

Yeah, yeah, that's right.

That's right.

Yeah, they beat

the guy got beat with a cane, and then the representative that did it, people would like toss him canes.

It was like a huge meme.

And that's also why Missouri and Kansas still hate each other.

That's why there's a big rivalry.

Yeah, well, that's what led to like the

what was it called?

The decision they made there'd be one slave state and one free state.

I can't remember.

All I know is Missouri was on the wrong side of that.

Just out of curiosity, which

what would that be to you?

Missouri was on the wrong, they were pro-slave, all right?

You want me to say it?

There.

Yeah.

There you go.

I'm just making sure for the rest of the time.

Could you imagine if I was like, I'm not going to say

I plead the fifth, as it were.

I'm just, you know, we're each entitled to our own opinions.

The Missouri Compromise.

That was the name of it.

That's what it is.

That's right.

I worked the rest of my ship and left without a word to King King Creole.

But instead of heading straight home, I went somewhere I hadn't been in years.

The library.

A wealth of knowledge.

And the only place I could think that would have anything on my boss.

Getting to the reference section, I poured into everything and anything I could.

Looking at the newspaper section.

The headlines, deaths, famous people from my town.

Anything about Charles Sumner?

Then, about an hour before they were about to close, I got a hit.

Charles Sumner, 1900 to 1925.

Oh, let's go, baby.

Let's go.

Let's go, baby.

He was a pretty famous pianist back in the day.

Oh, let's go.

It's like an old jazz musician.

He was a pretty famous pianist back in the day and was even part of a band called the Sumner Orchestra.

Other than that, I didn't get too much about him.

But it did lead me down a rabbit hole when I saw the only picture of him in the reference book.

It was clearly my boss, King Creole in the flesh.

No button eyes, no stitches, nothing.

He was no doubt human in this picture.

That was surprising.

What surprised me most was the woman standing next to him in the picture because that was the porcelain woman.

I was, oh man, brother.

Where's it at?

Where's it at?

Where's it at?

Where's it at?

Where's it at?

Where's it at?

Where's it at?

Where is it at?

What did I say earlier that the woman down there is an old love interest?

Boom.

Play my card.

Let's go.

Mooch.

That bear trap wasn't nearly as good as my Gypsy Rose Olivia talking about her mom.

Just want to say that.

You didn't even call it out as a bear trap.

You didn't even call it.

Yeah, but I thought I was being respectful.

But if you're being going to do it and put it in my face, then I guess you're going to have to call it a ball.

Now you're just doing it because I did it.

That's completely different.

And also, I have the card.

You don't have the card.

No.

This episode is incomprehensible to people who are new to the show, by the way.

Good.

Leave!

Only real fans allowed.

I just can't come back.

Exactly.

They walk away.

No, wait, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, please.

She was famous enough to have a caption along with our boy Charles, Mary Simmons, well-loved singer in the band.

And according to the book, Charles' fiancé.

Man, I was so right.

I love being right about everything all the time.

I dropped the book when I saw that and stared in disbelief.

She was his fiancé.

What could she have done to deserve what she was getting?

I needed to know more.

Then all of the lights in the library cut out.

Oh, no.

Oh, God.

Oh, no.

Well, so how dangerous is that, too?

Like, this omnipotent boss of yours?

Like, I would, God, I feel like I'd have to, I mean, I don't even even know how I would want to research this.

I feel like he would know, you know, even him whispering to her.

Yeah, you got, you gotta, at some point, you gotta be like, eh, you know, I clock in.

I don't ask questions.

I clock out.

Yeah.

Or just realize you're up shit creek and you're pretty much fucked.

I mean, because what?

You can't quit that job too, right?

Yeah, yeah.

And the only fear is that he's using your soul or will replace you eventually with something.

So not a lot you can do.

I looked up quickly and nearly pissed myself.

Excuse me?

This guy almost pisses himself constantly.

Grabbing my phone and turning the flashlight on, I clung to it tightly as I looked around quickly, looked back at the book and, sorry about this library, ripped the photo out of it, stuffing it into my hoodie and making a break for it, till I found myself falling flat on my face.

Looking down, my eyes went wide as I saw a couple of voodoo dolls at my feet.

Oh, shit.

I tied my laces together while I was in the darkness.

Give me a break!

Shout at them, kicking them and quickly ditching my shoes as I made a run for it again.

Get into the front doors, I pulled on them to no avail.

I was locked in.

Why couldn't the internet have had this information?

Now I was going to die in my least favorite place in this stupid town.

And that was saying something.

Looking around, I had to find a way to escape.

Had the idea to head to the fire escape.

Looking around as I soon made it to the nearest door, reached out to open it, only for my arm to go completely limp on.

I raced about this before I lost control entirely of my body.

Once again, hitting the floor with a grunt and looking around in terror as I couldn't move.

A million questions I asked were soon answered when a familiar voice came up to me.

You should have left well enough alone, Travis.

Uh-oh.

Creole berated me from the darkness.

The lights came back on and revealing him standing right next to me, holding a voodoo doll that looked exactly like me.

Oh no.

He held it in a firm grip.

A needle held right up to the doll's neck.

Swallowed hard and looked up at him.

I just wanted to know more about you.

Shouted at him, the fear of my voice obvious, but he held a hand up to his mouth to hush me as he knelt down with the doll in his hand use your inside voice travis we're in a library chuckled grabbing me by the hair and pulling me up by it you want to learn more about me huh want to know about what that whore did to me he asked his teeth growing sharp as he talked reaching into my pocket and pulling out a page i'd ripped from the book he looked down at it with a disgust at first but also a sense of sadness Please

don't kill me, whimpered, shivering and trying to gain any kind of control back over my body.

Looked at me, then at the paper, tossing it back at me and giggling like a child.

I'm not gonna kill you, son.

I need you for things, said grabbing me by my hair and pulling my head up to meet his button eyes.

But after this little stunt you pulled, it looks like I'll have to put things in motion.

Sighed, pulling me up to my feet and tossing the doll of me up and down.

What do you mean?

I asked, again getting shushed by him.

Patted my head and whispered something into the doll's ear.

Suddenly got super drowsy, struggled to keep myself standing, looking at Creole, and finally I passed out.

I woke up this morning and gasped, looking around quickly to see where the hell I was.

I was in my room.

Had I dreamed all of that?

A picture of Charles Mary, however, was still in my hoodie pocket, however, and that quickly dispelled any idea of a nightmare.

Got up and went to the bathroom next to my room and screamed.

Because looking at my reflection in the mirror were two big black buttons, or my eyes should have been.

Look, I don't know what he's doing to me, and I don't know how to stop it.

Scared, guys.

I'm going to find out how to stop him before I end up like the customers I've shit about.

If I don't upload, assume I failed.

My skin is getting really pale as I finish this up, so I got to get a move on.

Wish me luck.

End of part six into the final part, part seven.

I'm having a lot of fun.

I'm like, I'm actually,

I'm glued.

I'm glued in right now, dude.

It's fun.

It's fun.

All right.

Part seven, the finale.

Part seven.

Keeping the door closed on my parents as they attempted to learn why I screamed, I finally convinced them that I had seen a giant spider and killed it.

When I finally heard their footsteps walk away from the bathroom door, I took another look at myself in the mirror.

There's no doubt that my eyes were replaced by buttons.

Couldn't blink, not that I really needed to, and I could see much better than I could before.

So it would have been nice if my eyes weren't buttons.

This is very the Bell Dam or whatever from Coraline, very Coraline.

I was stuck.

I had to learn more about Creole and learn how to defeat him before I turned into whatever the hell I was about to turn into.

And I have to give it to you guys, mentioning that I should find Olivia's new mother.

Fortunately for me, I had no clue where she lived.

Pulled on my hair trying to figure out where she could live when I had an idea.

All of the items that were on her original mother's body was sitting behind the counter at work.

This included a cell phone and her wallet, where her ID would be.

Great, back into the lion's den.

Suiting up in my hooding and pulling the hood on quickly, I ran past my parents, shouting that I was late for work and booked it outside.

Hope I can see them again someday.

Making my way to the shop, I gathered all the courage I could and walked into the shop and was immediately confused when I saw nobody there.

The office door was closed, and the basement door was locked shut as usual.

Well, at least this part would be easy.

Walking over the counter, I fished around in the container of people's things and soon found what I was looking for.

Sophie, I said aloud, looking at the idea of Olivia's old mother.

Man, that is weird.

So I have have two sisters and their names are sophia and olivia

it's just it's just a weird coincidence anyway which contained her address

what are the

whatever

one day i'll be dead and i won't have to put up with this girl that's that's the saving grace one day i'll die which contained her address and it was within walking distance of here Stuffing the idea in my pocket, I quickly turned to leave and walked right into Creole standing behind me.

You do look very distinguished with buttons, he cooed, grabbing my face with his hands and pushing the hood off my head.

Looking up at him, I shivered as he stared at me with a happy expression.

You're looking quite pale these days.

Are you sick, Travis?

He asked, fake concern plastered all over that pale face of his.

Looking down at my hand, I saw that it was quickly becoming the shade of white he was.

What the fuck are you doing to me?

Shouted, pounding on his chest and finally shoving him off my face, backing up from him and starting to head for the front door.

I need a store clerk.

You answered the advertisement, Travis, said with a chuckle, picking up the voodoo doll of me from the counter.

Pulling a needle from his pocket and holding it back up to the doll's neck, I froze and looked at him with gritted teeth.

Looking behind him, I feigned concern, making it look like Mary had broken free from the basement.

He fell for it, looked back at the basement door.

He did so long enough for me to chuck Sophie's cell phone, which I had kept, right into his head, knocking his head off and staggering him for a bit.

Turning, I quickly fled out of the shop and started booking it towards the direction of Olivia's house.

I was hoping that the voodoo doll had limited range on me, and luckily, I think it did.

Something happened to me, so I ran to the neighborhood.

Panting and out of breath, I looked around to man, could you see if he was wrong about that?

He's like, haha, suckers, and just falls over dead.

Yeah, well, I mean, you have to try, right?

Yeah.

Something happened to me as I ran to the neighborhood, panting and out of breath.

Looked around and tried to find the correct house.

Soon enough, managing to find it and stumbling my way to the door, knocking on it hard.

You work with Mr.

Kim Creole.

Olivia gasped when she opened the door for me.

Look of confusion on her face when she saw me with button eyes and pale skin.

Can I get button eyes too?

I need to talk to your mommy, said through exhausted panting.

No wonder I almost failed P all those times in high school.

She nodded and let me out of the house.

I looked around and saw that every single picture in the house was of Olivia and her new mother.

Not a single one of Sophie existed.

Damn, he's good.

Oh, dear God.

Came the soft and concerned British voice of Olivia's new mother.

I looked up at her and stumbled to her, grabbing her by the collar of her poofy black dress and shaking her.

Desperation clear on my face.

Help me!

How do I stop this?

I screamed, begging the woman to help me in any way she could.

I did not want to end up like Sophie or all those other people the Creole had killed.

I know his real name, and I know who's trapped in the basement.

Please, tell me how to save myself.

I

don't

She looked over to Olivia, who was playing in the living room, oblivious to us in her own little world.

She turned back to me and bit her lips.

Go to this address, she said quickly, pulling out a notepad and scribbling on it.

Please tell me this isn't far.

I begged.

Having to run here had really wiped me out.

It is, I'm afraid, but it is the only place that may help you.

She said, tearing off the sheet of paper and handing it to me.

I looked down at it and raised my eyebrow.

Isn't this right near the shop?

Won't he know?

I asked her, wondering if she was sending me on a suicide mission.

But she shook her head and kept her hands together around the notepad.

He does not go there anymore.

You should be safe, she said.

Then her face twisting into fear, she covered her mouth with her hands.

The notepad fell to the floor as she backed away from me.

I shivered as she did so, scared of what she could have seen.

Why are you blushing, mister?

Livia asked me, her attention now on me and tilting her head in confusion.

Was I blushing?

I didn't feel hot enough for that.

I pulled my phone out and looked at myself in the camera, and my heart sank in an instant.

My cheeks were painted red, like a puppet's.

I turned and ran out of the house, adrenaline up and completely in panic mode.

He was turning me into a puppet, and if I didn't stop him soon, I was going to be over for me quickly.

I had to find out more about him and maybe find a way to stop this in the process.

Slowing down after a while, I made my way back towards the shop.

But instead of making my usual left turn towards it i continued forward and ended up at a decrepit old building just like the voodoo shop i really need to fix up this part of town the faded old letter read out library only i'd never seen nor heard of this library ever although considering how it looked i could see why sighing and walking in with my head held high i walked up to the doors and found them completely sealed behind wooden boards lucky for me there was a broken window right nearby so i entered the building and began my search i headed for the reference section where i found much more information detailing things about Charles Sumner.

Let's just say it's a tale, all right.

Charles Sumner was born into a poor family.

His dad dying of cholera, and his mother having to raise him on her own.

Lucky for the two of them, Charles' mother was a voodoo witch doctor, very well loved by the community.

Charles, meanwhile, became a piano prodigy at the age of seven.

He would go on to make a career of it.

Soon enough, by the time he was 18, he was in his own band.

Now, he wasn't a millionaire or anything, but it seemed like he was well off.

That's where Mary Simmons was a vocalist for Charles and his fiancée.

While nice, this information didn't help me at all, and I was about to give up completely and just burn down the whole shop when I suddenly turned to the last page the reference book I was reading had on Charles, when in big black letters, a headline shown from the newspaper, Charles Sumner missing.

Intrigued, I read as best I could the old and decaying page of the book.

Charles had gone out with his bandmates and had never returned home.

Looked around and tried to find any other information.

Charles, Mary, anybody, and then I found it.

Mary Simmons and six others go missing.

I read aloud when I found an ancient newspaper article about it.

Looked up when I heard footsteps outside, but it was just some crackheads mumbling to each other.

Went back to the paper and read it as best I could.

Mary had gone missing about four months after Charles did.

I shrugged my chin at that, looked back at the other books I had thrown around everywhere.

His mother?

I mumbled to myself, going on a hunch and trying to find a book or something on her if she was so beloved by the community.

And I did.

Although she retreated from public life after the disappearance of Charles, I did manage to find one interview she gave before then.

She blamed Mary for the missing Charles.

More importantly, the missing $10,000 he had won in a contest the night he went out.

Gotcha.

I said aloud, closing that book and trying to use my mind to help piece things together.

Having a good read, son?

Creole asked me, sending me flinching into the bookshelf and staring at him as he set up above me on the bookshelf across from me.

A really good one, Charles.

Shot back at him.

Smile on his face disappeared when I called him that, growled at me and hopped down to my level.

Grabbing me by the collar again and slamming me hard into the bookshelf.

Don't call me that, snarled, lifting up his fist to beat me, only for me to headbutt him and grab a book from the floor.

Triking my boss in the face with it and pushing him over.

Tripped and fell to the floor, stared back at me with anger in those buttons of his.

What did Mary do?

Why did you keep her trapped in the basement?

I demanded to know, lifting the book over my head to hit him again.

He looked at me with sharpened teeth and got up to his feet, fixing his tie and looking at me like I was a worm he had just stepped on.

Grabbing me by the collar again, he stared into my button eyes with his own.

That hole deserves everything I give to him.

Snarled, his teeth again growing sharp.

In a pure rush of adrenaline, I grabbed his mouth by the stitches and yanked as hard as I could.

I managed to rip out the entire length of his suture, causing him to drop me and stumble backwards.

Gagging and coughing, he looked at me with the black ooze dripping out of his mouth much quicker than it did before.

Acting quickly, I ran up to him and pushed him over with all my weight.

Fishing inside his coat pockets as we both stumbled to the floor, I managed to pull out the two items I knew he needed, his spool of black thread, and the key to the basement.

Thanks, Charles!

I shouted with a chuckle, standing and booking it towards the library entrance.

No pun intended there, surprisingly.

I heard him scream and shout at me, but when I looked back, he was struggling to stand up.

Clearly ripping those threads out of his mouth did something to him.

Good thinking adrenaline fueled me.

Making it out through the window I'd gone in through, I sighed hard as I looked down at my arms.

Still pale as him, but they had stopped at my elbows, meaning I'd bought myself some time from all that.

Sighing hard, I now knew what I had to do.

I was going to the basement.

Armed with the key and a rusty pipe I stole from the outside of the library, I started started walking towards Old King Creoles.

A million things were going through my mind at that moment.

Thoughts about Charles, what had happened to him, and what was going to happen to me.

Opening the doors to the shop, everything was dead silent.

Even the rusty bell was much quieter than it usually was.

Looking to the wall of voodoo dolls, I saw that they were all starting to rot and fall off the shelves.

Must have really weakened him.

Renewed by this, I strode towards the basement and stopped.

His office.

I looked over to it and changed my course to look through it.

Maybe there was something in there.

Going into the clean office, I saw most of what I had seen the first time.

Tidy office and scratched out pictures.

Only this time I paid attention to the pictures, seeing that indeed these were of Charles and Mary.

Opened up his office desk.

I didn't find much of anything.

Countless buttons and threads, as well as several pairs of gloves.

About to leave, I saw on his desk a picture that wasn't completely scratched out, stood prominently.

Picture of a young Charles Sumner and his mother, Mother Creole.

Looking out of the office towards the basement door, I knew that all my answers would come from down there.

Walking over there, I finally inserted the key and turned it, opening the door and staring into the depths.

Taking my phone out and turning on the flashlight, I made my way down there.

The crooked old wooden steps creaked with every one of my footsteps.

I looked to the ceiling and to the floor as I made my way down.

Passing several bones and articles of clothing on my way down, finally touched solid ground.

I was in the basement after all this time, and it was as freaky and gross as I'm sure you guys imagined.

Decaying and rotting bodies laid everywhere, some hung up by strings like puppets, and others clearly having been chewed on by something.

That something soon caught my attention.

The sound of crunching porcelain turned my attention to the corner of the room, where Mary sat looking up at me in horror.

He's he's gotten to you, too.

She whimpered softly, curling up in the fetal position.

I made my way over to her, phone trained on her cracked and broken body, kept my pipe in my hand just in case she got any ideas.

What happened to him?

Obviously, he didn't just wake up like that, as I did.

I demanded to know, keeping distance from her and waiting for the answer.

She curled up tighter, obviously not wanting to spill her beans, but finally, she spoke up.

I cheated on him, she mumbled, looking at me with the one eye she had.

Her face was cracked and her right eye was missing, but the other shone the flashlight I had trained on her.

He was a nice guy, and when he asked me to marry him, I caved.

But I was already seeing someone else.

A mobster.

And you wanted to make him disappear and and steal that $10,000?

Oh yeah, sort of siding with Creole Charles on this one.

No,

that wasn't the plan at all.

I told Henry that I just wanted him to get scared and leave town.

Henry and his goons took it too far.

She said quickly, looking at me and lunging out, grabbing me and shaking me quickly back and forth.

I didn't tell them to torture him.

Wait, torture?

I asked quickly, shoving the porcelain doll off me, holding my pipe up to get her back from me.

She looked fragile.

Something had to be chewing on all these corpses down down here.

She was the only living thing down here.

She explained, looking up at me for some kind of sympathy.

What?

You were just gonna fuck him up and steal his money?

I don't believe you for a second.

He's done horrible things to people.

If you cause that to happen to him, you're no better than him.

So with a huff, did it make sense, the way she had put it at least.

What?

But she began, obviously trying to fix her lie.

Oh,

that

interesting, okay.

But she gave up and sighed, rubbing her cracked face and nodding behind her hands, looking back up at me with an exhausted face.

Fine, I wanted to get rid of him, but I wasn't strong enough to just come out and say I didn't love him anymore.

He spent every single moment of his time playing gigs, which I had to sing in.

I hated it.

I hated all of that.

So when Henry came up and swept me off my feet, I decided to be selfish for once in my life.

Decided to be for selfish and have this man murdered by what?

I mean, like, what the fuck are you talking about?

This is interesting, though, that they're both bad people, effectively, or they're both bad.

Well, also just kind of delusional, too.

Like, how he's still hung up on this for, what, over a hundred years or whatever.

Like, it's just, yeah.

Yeah.

They're made for each other, literally.

She shouted back at me, stumbling to her feet and staring at me with daggers in her single eye.

Guess you didn't expect him to come back as a ventilator voodoo ghost.

Snickered, backing up from her and heading back towards the stairs.

She followed me, anger still obvious on her face.

If Henry hadn't done such a shit job hiding his body, his mother wouldn't have discovered it and turned him into that freak.

She mumbled, turning and looking around at the walls she must have looked at for almost a hundred years now.

Now I'm nothing but his punching bag.

She sighed, looking back at me with hopeless expression.

He fixes me and breaks me over

and over again.

That explains the porcelain cracks and stuff like that.

Like how she goes down the staircase and shatters, puts her back together, breaks her again.

It's also a great,

I don't know if you feel the same way about it.

Abuse metaphor.

Well, abuse metaphor, but also toxic relationship.

You know what I mean?

Yeah.

That kind of deal.

But I'm sorry, Marianne.

I really am, but at the same time,

you aren't some innocent victim.

I responded, looking down at my phone when it vibrated.

No number, though I knew exactly exactly who it was.

No.

Said softly.

Sorry, Travis, my boy.

Your looks run out.

The familiar voice said to me, before something struck me on my head and I lost all control of my body, flopping to the floor and passing out.

It's nice dress shoes coming into view just as I lost consciousness.

Do you think also he didn't want him to go down there because he thought he was going to have sex with her or something?

Like jealousy thing?

Well, I think that and he also just didn't want her to get out.

Or did anyone talk to her?

Yeah, sure.

I mean, I understand that, but I think to me, it reads more and more like jealousy now.

You know, like he's keeping her down there for himself, you know?

I think that's certainly part of it, yeah.

Yeah.

Wakey, wakey, son.

Creole hummed, smacking me hard in the face with a glove, snapping me awake and looking around.

Instantly trying to move, but finding myself stuck and trapped.

Looked around and saw I was still in the basement.

Only I was tied to a table.

You gonna cut me in half?

I asked, groaning at the stinging pain in my head.

Looking at him and realizing that he had lost an eye.

Then seeing he used the thread from that eye to sew his mouth back up.

Unfortunately, not.

I do need you to be somewhat intact.

He sighed, walking over to me and tapping my nose, smiling as he pulled away.

No, Travis, my boy.

I do, in fact, need you alive.

Well, sort of.

Chuckled, slamming a heavy bag onto the table on top of my leg, causing me to cry out in pain.

Charles, please, he doesn't deserve this.

Mary's soft voice spoke up, causing Creole to stop his searching in the bag and looking off in a direction I couldn't focus on.

Grabbing the pipe I had equipped myself with, he walked out of my field of view, although the sound of breaking porcelain was more than enough for me to understand what he was doing to her.

Sorry about that, he returned with a chuckle, dropping the pipe on the floor and searching through the bag once again.

Smiling nice and wide when he finally found the item he was searching for, pulling out an ancient drill, the kind you need to crank to be able to use.

What are you going to do to me?

I asked him, pulling on my restraints hard and trying to escape the restraints that had me firmly down on the table.

He looked at me with a wide and happy smile as he placed the drill in my exposed palm.

I need a permanent employee.

Someone who can work hard and never ever take breaks or refuse an order.

And if I had been a good little boy and just followed my orders, I wouldn't have to do this step.

But you just had to start snooping, didn't you?

He sighed, starting to drill into my hand.

Not ashamed to say, I screamed.

I screamed and beg.

I thrashed and tried every way possible to try and escape.

It wasn't so bad with the second hand.

I think I was passing out from blood loss by that point.

The feat, lucky enough for me, was a walk in the park compared to the drill in my hands.

As I struggled to stay conscious, I saw that he had begun to tie thick pieces of string into the holes of my hands and feet.

You make a fine addition to the crew, Travis.

You practically looked apart.

He giggled, his voice distorted as I slipped in and out of consciousness.

Although the feeling of something sharp and cold in my throat brought me back to reality, he had a hacksaw over my throat.

Sputtered out, my voice slurred from blood loss, trying to protest, but too weak to move at all.

Sorry, son.

This is the only way to grant you immortality.

Lucky enough for me, my head was still intact enough for my mama to bring me back to life.

So you'll be nice and easy.

Just a quick dip in that solution I've whipped up, and you'll be and you'll be a new man.

He chuckled, pressing the hacksaw hard on my throat and starting to saw into me.

The first few ghosts were on a scale of pain pain you could never imagine.

But by the time he cut into my spinal cord, I was already dead.

Damn.

So he got him.

Got him.

Wakey, wakey, son.

You gotta stop falling asleep on me.

Creole's soft and loving voice spoke to me as I regained my consciousness.

I looked around and saw that I was sitting up on a table.

Down at myself, startled when I saw I was in my own black suit.

My tie was red, unlike Creole's purple.

I asked, looking over to him and touching my throat, finding a long growth stitches across my throat like his.

Yes, indeedy, son.

He chuckled, smacking my back and pulling my attention over to a large black cauldron nearby.

Mama's old recipe.

A quick dip of your head in there, and you can kiss mortality goodbye.

Chuckled, pulling me to my feet and helping me stand straight.

Shivered at the thought that I had been dead, but even more so when I looked down at the strings tied to my hands and feet.

What What am I?

I asked him, looking over at him and wanting to cry, despite my clear lack of eyes.

He looks back at me with a big yellow smile, pulling me close with his arms around my neck.

You're my store clerk, son, and my own personal puppin.

Chuckled, lifting up mirror and showing me myself.

Did start crying then, even if no tears came back.

My face was pale and the red cheeks bright and vibrant.

My normally messy hair was nice and combed downward.

Now, you're going to work walk with me here

forever.

He chuckled, stepping back and smiling as he motioned for me to go up the stairs.

Looked up at the stairs and refused to take a single step till the string tied around me went tight.

Some unseen force began to force me upstairs.

Tried to fight it.

I tried so hard.

Tried running out the door, running far away, into the arms of my parents so I could wake up from this nightmare, but I had no such luck.

Force made me go to the counter and stand there.

just stand there, unable to move.

I just want to go home, I mumbled, still crying as Creole made his way back upstairs, looking my way with a smile and a chuckle.

Now, Travis, we can't have a sad stork look.

Let's fix that.

Tis snapping his fingers and smiling at me.

Of course, King Creole, sir, I said happily, saluting him and smiling back.

My mouth and body may have said that, but my mind was screaming and wanting to strangle him with the strings, keeping me held upright.

Bad a boy!

Creole hummed, clapping his gloved hands together and heading into his office, leaving me standing there with no way to sit down or do anything.

Just stand there, smile like an idiot.

I can only control myself at night when he locks the shop up and spends all his time down in the basement.

I'm allowed to sit and do whatever I want, but the second I approach the door, my invisible handler forces me back to my post.

This is my life now.

A puppet in King Creole's sick little games.

All I can do is smile.

Thank Thank you for coming in.

I can't scream for help or anything.

I'm trapped here.

Can't find any way out.

Help me.

Please help me.

And make sure to visit Old King Creole's half-price voodoo shop.

We have everything you could ever want.

King Creole is a lovely boss and is more than happy to grant any wish you could ever want.

And I'm more than happy to clean up anything that you leave behind.

And that is the half-price voodoo store.

Man, that was a fucking great one.

That was fun.

That was a whole lot of fun.

You know what's kind of interesting, too, is that, you know, not to say that our, I don't think Travis, once again, I don't think Travis deserved it, but he also watched how many people die and just kind of cleaned up the message.

Yeah, no, no, no, no.

It's desertly right.

He

allowed this to happen and did nothing.

As far as the story goes, he was a willing participant in it.

Holding people down, letting people die, stuff like that.

So it's only fitting that he would end up just like King Creole because he was willing to go along with the monsters that he was creating.

Yeah.

Yeah, I man, I don't know.

I really like this one.

Really fun.

Not a huge backstory, not overly complicated.

Just a guy who got cheated on by a girl, took it way too far, and has basically just been living immortal in a, in a, uh, in this half-priced voodoo store just because his mom was a witch doctor.

I just think that's like...

Just such a fun little premise.

You get some nice little, and it's funny too, because basically parts one through four are all just lead up to just basically being showing Travis's compliance.

He's just like our navigator through these stories, but also just kind of showing how simple and how easy it is to kind of get swept into being like, okay, well, I guess this person's dead, so I'll clean it up.

And then he kind of gets his comeuppines in the end as well.

So a lot of fun.

Yeah.

Yeah.

It's like you start out with

just the basic intro of like, here's a story of a half-price voodoo store.

I just, I'm just a guy that works there.

And then we get our vignettes.

But then I like how the story started connected.

Like in the very first story, we get a mention of something banging on the basement door and it sounds like a wild animal, but then that becomes the main part of the story.

And like in part four, we get the little girl Olivia who is given a new mother through the voodoo doll.

And that character comes back twice as a figure that helps us through the story.

And I like how it became like...

Or like the mention that earlier when King Creole's mouth, one of his threads got clipped, this black goo leaked out of him.

And then that black goo needs to be fixed or else like that damages him.

Like, maybe that's his weak spot, but we'll never know because the story didn't go there.

I also think it's incredibly impressive,

given the tone of the story, I guess, for it to kind of end on, you know, our protagonist loses.

But there's so many cool things, like, with the history and stuff.

This reminded me so much of an old Goosebumps book.

Yes, yes, yes, yes.

Exactly.

Even down to like, oh, I'm a puppet at the store now.

You know, it kind of felt like the end.

The very Twilight Zone ending of, you know, the person got their come-up ands, or it's like, you know, it's the dark ending, the scary ending with the person, you know, you don't get the happy, the happy, fun, everybody's safe ending.

Do you think that the, uh, do you think Olivia's new mom, that doll, was maybe somebody he knew in his life that he transformed and he's like, oh, she'll make a good mother, but she's just as controlled as

I think she's older than that because he always says he describes Tutorian and British.

Yeah.

So it's probably, could have been a woman who got turned into a voodoo doll and then was passed around for centuries until it got into his hands.

It could be, yeah.

I mean, his mom was a, it could be something that's attached to his mom or something with her witch practices as well.

You know, I think that this story, too, really rode that line well of like, it wasn't so hammy and like so many cheesy lines.

Like there wasn't, there was enough cheese in there for it to be kind of charming and fun.

You know, like it was, it was a nice light read and then it would like pepper in really like kind of like vulgarly like just violent moments and even the way that it wraps itself up it doesn't linger too long it doesn't like completely kick the whole tone of the story out at the end

it's very consistent throughout the nice panel feels it feels like a good tone that it keeps like sure it would be funny in moments but they were never so much so that it pulled away from everything else and sure our setting is spectacular like it's naturally kind of campy but it never it never pushes that button too hard well it just like cheapened it it didn't it didn't cheapen the environment that we were in is what I think was.

It doesn't overstay its welcome.

It complements it pretty well.

It did a very good balance between like having fun and also like taking itself seriously.

Yeah.

And I think, I mean,

exactly.

I think you just nailed it.

I was just going to say, even like the idea of

basically this fucking One Piece character walking around and stuff, it never did I think it was like.

So it didn't feel like fanfic.

Like, because I feel like a lot of people in these stories, it's like over explaining how like, I don't know, robust and like exotic they look or, you know, like how kind of crazy they are.

I think people get into that fanfic area to where it's like, well, he looks like this and this and that.

But really, it was pretty straightforward.

And it just like he bled well.

Like his character bled well into how he looks and how he acts.

And it just was really, I don't know, cohesive throughout.

I just enjoyed it.

It was a good one, man.

It was a little good.

It was a lot of fun.

I'm really happy, too.

Also, too, I think that each part.

was like a really nice like it just paced really nice like i'm glad that yeah i'm glad that like halfway through it wasn't like this place is kind of I need to start digging in like he really didn't start digging in till like part five which once again I like that Travis is not innocent Travis is kind of just like a bystander

and he pays for it in the end like exactly exactly suffers the consequences Travis Travis is selfish because all he gives a about is his paycheck And I'm glad and I'm glad that he gets his come-up ins in the end because he like that kind of character deserves it the only death in the story where I'm like okay, which and to be fair They did show it early on is the girl who ran and called the cops, whatever.

The red.

Because, because they do a great, the voodoo clerk does a great job with

making King Creole like, oh, well, he's kind of nice because he saved the girl.

You know, oh, well, you know, he does have a little quirks here and there, but then it's like, no, he's just evil.

Like, he's just an evil guy.

Like, one good thing you do doesn't justify the amount of horrible shit that you do as well.

So.

All in all,

this is a banger.

I enjoyed it.

Very well done.

Very well done.

I enjoyed it a lot.

That was a cool story.

I liked it.

If you all want to continue to read, if you go to, again, it's user voodoo clerk, voodoo underscore clerk on Reddit.

He has a ton of continuations to the series.

Yep.

Because right after this, he has another one called My Life as a Voodoo Puppet.

And then after that, a series called

My Return to the Half Price Voodoo Store.

And then like there's so many about this voodoo store that continue.

The half-price voodoo store is reopening.

These are all series.

So if if you really like the story and want to check out more, link will be in the description.

Cannot recommend enough.

Yeah, I think it's great.

Please go support the author.

We left a link as well to Drew Gasper's work, Yellow Flowers, for the Amazon link and other stuff there.

So please go support that as just a member of our community who's made a book now.

But please always support the authors and be sure to check us out on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, any places that you can listen to stuff while maybe you're just driving or heading to work or maybe you just want to throw us in your ears and not have to watch our ugly faces.

But until next time, everyone, thank you so much for watching Creepcast.

And until the next time, stay creeped.

Stay creeped.

And if

your mother is a voodoo queen, or no, ladies, if you're ever dating a guy whose mother is a voodoo queen, do not cheat on him with a mob boss.

Seems like, and then plan to murder him.

Seems like incredibly unwise planning on her part.

So don't do that unless you really want to, Seven Sisters.

Bye.