S21 Ep25: NoSleep Podcast S21E25

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All aboard!

Tickets, please.

Find your seats.

The train will be departing shortly.

You're aboard the Sleepless Express, a direct journey into the darkness of the night.

There are no sleeping cars available on this train.

On this journey, you will experience the horrors found within the dark landscapes and endless black tunnels.

You will hear things which will leave you frightened and disturbed.

And remember, there will be no stops until the very end of the line.

Brace yourself for the No Sleep Podcast.

Welcome aboard the No Sleep Podcast.

I'm your conductor, David Cummings.

Well, here we are, sleepless friends.

Our final journey on the Sleepless Express.

Our 21st season wraps up with this one last ride down the rails until we reach the terminus.

Ah, but what a ride we have for you.

We'll begin our journey by visiting the dining car, so to speak.

Lots of yummy things to eat there.

And then we'll be settling into our season's final tale.

And it's a wedding we'll be attending.

How better to end our season than with a tale of love and fidelity, right?

I can't imagine any way a wedding could be a setting for horror.

Well, perhaps this time we can make an exception.

And as we begin our train ride, I want to thank everyone who made our 21st season possible.

It's been quite a journey.

It's been exciting to be a part of Tales from the Void and bringing those no-sleep tales to the screen.

Our team continues to outdo themselves, from the writers, the voice actors, producers, illustrators, our editorial team, all superb and very much appreciated.

And what can I say about our multi-award winning composer, Brandon Boone, who just this past Wednesday won a World Soundtrack Award for the best video game score for Slay the Princess.

Congratulations, Maestro!

A very well-deserved honor.

We're proud to present this full-length season finale episode, Over Two and a Half Hours of Horror, to all our listeners.

For those of you who listen to our sponsor-supported episodes, we can't thank you enough for supporting our sponsors as well.

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Well, now it's time to take your seats.

Settle in for a long ride into the sleepless night.

Because our season finale is ready as long as you're fully braced.

And now the train is ready to depart.

Your final journey into the darkness begins now.

In our first tale, we visit an all-night diner.

There's something special about being in a diner during the late night hours, isn't there?

Especially one with a regular clientele.

But in this tale, Shared with us by author Jude Klee, the diner has a new employee being trained on how they do things there and how one particular customer needs some very special service indeed.

Performing this tale are Tanya Milosevic, Catabelle Ansari, Dan Zapula, Matthew Bradford, Jesse Cornett, and Mike Delgadio.

So fire up the grill and make sure the cutlery is clean.

You'll want everything to be just right when Mr.

Wesker's coming.

We get a lot of weirdos this time of night, I told Jules, the new night shift trainee.

I had high hopes for Jules.

Ever since Malcolm stormed out three months ago shouting, fuck this shit, as the door swung behind him, I covered all the night shifts.

My bank account appreciated it, but my mental health did not.

Diego and I had a bet for how long the newbie would last.

I'd win if she made it to the end of the week.

Mm-hmm.

Jules spoke with all the enthusiasm of a popped party balloon.

Geez, she could at least fake it for the first week.

Though, looking at Martha's through her eyes.

The fluorescent lights, the ones that worked, that is, shone unnaturally bright against the pitch darkness outside, like a bug zapper drawing in mosquitoes.

An A and both ends had gone out in the Martha's all-night sign.

The black and yellow checkered linoleum was chipped randomly, and Booth 9 had a stain shaped like South America.

The 50s diner aesthetic wasn't a stylistic choice.

Martha's hadn't been updated since its opening in 1957.

Same owner, too.

Rick something?

80 years young, his words.

And half-retired in Florida.

Every few months, he made an appearance to check in on us, crack some dad jokes, and clumsily flirt with the cooks.

Jules tucked a strand of highlighted blonde hair behind her ear.

So, what's the weirdest thing that's ever happened here?

The diner was nearly empty.

Mr.

Mastriano sat in booth four, a bear of a man from his size to his bushiness, chugging down his second cup of coffee.

I opened my mouth and closed it again.

Come on, you aren't going to scare me away.

I've got tuition payments due.

I opened my mouth and closed it again.

I sighed.

One time a raccoon got loose in the kitchen.

She wrinkled her nose.

Gross.

No, that's not what I meant.

Excuse me, ma'am.

Mr.

Mastriano lumbered over to the counter.

Do you know when my Reuben will be ready?

I have to hit the road soon.

I'll check.

I'll be back in a jiffy.

Thanks, Kelse.

I appreciate it.

He's a regular.

I whispered to Jules as I led her through the swinging cowboy doors.

They probably had an official name, but I just saw them as something out of blazing saddles.

I was immediately assaulted by the smell of smoke and frying oil, the sound of the RMB oldie station, and the pile of gunk in the sink that were once dishes in a past life.

Guys, where's Mr.

M's order?

I asked Diego and RJ.

He's getting antsy.

Well, antsy for him.

It's up.

The plate clattered on the countertop.

Don't bitch, we've been swamped.

Jules raised a perfectly stenciled eyebrow.

We've had three customers all night.

RJ's eyes darkened.

The thing he called a mustache twitched.

Rumor had it, RJ was an ex-con, though I heard that rumor from Diego, and he's not the most reliable source.

RJ definitely looked the part with his cue ball head and his sleeve tattoos.

Though I can't talk, I've got a few tats myself.

Mr.

Wesker is coming in three hours, and the shit we have is old.

My insides turned to ice.

But doesn't he know we have a trainee?

You think he's gonna give a single flying fuck about little Miss Jules?

No offense.

Extreme events taken.

Now, we can get away with feeding the old pork to anyone but Wesker.

Screw Rick, but he's the only one who really runs the show.

You know he always gets what he wants, one way or another.

I swallowed a golf ball-sized lump in my throat.

I hadn't been this nervous since the first time I took a dollar store pregnancy test.

I...

I'll find something.

We still have time.

You better.

Shit, shit, shit.

My hands shook under the plate, but with 10 years' waitressing experience, I didn't drop it.

Though that smells wonderful.

I slid the plate in front of Mr.

Mastriano.

He popped a crinkled fry into his mouth.

Sorry for the delay.

Jules is going to refill your coffee.

Jules shot me a look that said, oh, will I?

But she headed to the coffee pot all the same.

I'm fine, thanks.

Really, Mr.

M?

You have a long road ahead, and you've already paid for it.

Oh,

what the hell?

You know me.

My hand shot into my pocket.

I clenched my fist.

Let me know if you need anything else.

But I turned on my heel before he could answer.

I need to get out of here.

I need to think.

Jules leaned over to my ear.

She was too close.

I caught a whiff of hairspray, lavender body wash, and burnt coffee.

Hey, what about him?

I jerked back like she'd spilled coffee on me.

He's a regular.

As if I hadn't just thought the same thing myself.

So

there are rules about regulars.

Okay, Jesus, it was just a suggestion.

A bad one.

My hand went back to my pocket, squeezing hard.

A bad one, but what was the alternative?

What if it came down to us or Mr.

Mastriano?

If I don't come home tonight,

what's Mr.

Wesker actually going to do?

God, she sounded so naive and almost hurt.

I've had plenty of dick bosses, but that doesn't change the fact that workers still have rights.

What could be worth putting up with this bullshit?

The pay is very good.

I wasn't that much older than Jules, probably between five and seven years, but our lives couldn't be more different.

She was about to graduate college with a bright future ahead of her and only needed the night shift to help with tuition.

I worked at Martha's because my terrible taste in boyfriends led me to think once or twice without a condom was solid birth control.

Tyler turned out to be as good of a father and boyfriend as he was a basketball player.

Forever benched, but always assuring me that his big chance would come any day now.

Now that the kids were in school and my mom was cool with crashing on the couch, I could work while they slept and sleep while they were at school.

And the money was twice what I'd make at any bar or restaurant, even with Jules taking over more shifts.

So yes, Jules, I'd put up with the bullshit and take my chances with Mr.

Wesker's temper because at least I wasn't on food stamps anymore.

At least I didn't have to deal with landlords anymore.

Because thanks to Martha's, I could make a down payment on a modest ranch house.

Even if...

Even if it meant I might not see Mackenzie and Quinn again.

I pulled out my phone.

Technically, we weren't supposed to use our phones in front of customers, but Mr.

Mastriano didn't care.

Besides, just like the sneaker policy, we only enforced it when Rick showed up.

Mom, are you up?

I texted.

Probably not at 2 a.m., but sometimes she got up for a midnight pea or a glass of milk.

Sometimes insomnia hit her hard and she stayed up late binging my Netflix.

If I was lucky, tonight was one of those nights.

I needed to talk to her.

I needed her to check on Mackenzie and Quinn for me, to reassure me that they were sleeping peacefully.

but of course

she didn't answer can he chew his food any slower I thought he was in a hurry

shut up jewels

I felt a headache coming on

wow professional much

she gave me a disgusted look Wouldn't it be ironic if I drove Jules away instead of Martha's general insanity?

I'm sorry, I just need to think.

Whatever you say, boss.

But seriously, Mr.

Mastriano was taking forever.

I watched him slowly nibble on the crust of his sandwich.

Was this some kind of sign?

Why wouldn't he leave?

The little bell chimed.

Our latest customer was in his 40s or 50s and rocked the standard redneck trucker look.

He sported a ballooning beer belly under his flannel shirt, washed-out jeans, a Santa beard, and a yellow baseball cap cap that said, don't tread on me.

Hey, y'all, what's man gotta do to get some grub around here?

Relief hit so hard my knees nearly buckled.

I closed my eyes.

We're saved.

I opened my eyes and plastered on my waitress's mile.

Welcome to Martha's.

I said as he settled into booth two.

I'm Kelsey.

I'll be your server tonight.

This is my waitress in training, Jules.

Can I start you off with something to drink?

We have an all-you-can-drink coffee special for $4.

Sure thing.

I'll take it with the number five special.

No pickles.

Extra coleslaw.

I scribbled it down quickly.

Coming right up.

Well, thank you, Sugar.

Oh, and Julie.

Yes?

He really should smile more.

He's such a pretty girl.

You don't want to ruin it by frowning all the time.

Jules narrowed her eyes.

Her mouth tightened.

I grabbed her by the elbow before she could say anything.

I slapped the order down on the countertop in front of Diego, looking directly into his copper eyes.

Booth 2.

She's the one.

Diego nodded.

Jules turned to me expectantly.

Her former confidence vanished.

Now she was a lost little girl looking to her sister for guidance.

When?

Shh, you'll see.

Thirty minutes later, Mr.

Mastriano left, and the trucker was on his fourth cup of coffee.

Flecks of coleslaw stuck to his beard.

He grabbed my wrist as I walked past.

Excuse me.

Your is the little boy's room.

Down the hall, second door on the right.

He grunted and shuffled off.

I watched him disappear down the hallway.

Follow me.

I mouthed to Jules.

I always hated this part.

I reached into my pocket, clutching the ice pick that I always kept hidden during work.

My heart sped up as we crept down the hallway, two ghosts gliding along with the shadows.

We stood outside of the men's room.

I heard off-tune whistling and piss hitting the urinal.

Jules looked at me, watching, waiting, desperate.

Here.

I pulled out the ice pick and thrust it under her nose.

You do it.

Her eyes widen.

She is so young.

Me?

But it's only my second day.

You'll only learn by doing.

I'll be right here in case you need me.

She hesitated.

The urinal flushed.

I put my hands on her shoulders.

Hey, you got this.

She nodded.

I watched her enter the restroom, ice pick held behind her back.

I peeked through the door like a mom on the first day of kindergarten.

Well, well.

I couldn't see his face, but I could still recognize the pleasure in his voice, the unshakable confidence.

What do we have here?

You'll find out.

Her voice was so silky low that I had to strain to hear it.

He walked towards her and placed his hands on her waist.

She raised the ice pick in a flash.

He didn't have time to react before the blood spurted from his neck onto the tile floor.

What?

What?

His eyes narrowed on Jules, and for a second I thought that it wasn't enough, that he'd attack her.

But then he staggered backwards into the toilet stall.

Diego, RJ, it's time.

Jules stared down at the gurgling man splayed across the toilet.

One hand dipped into the toilet bowl.

She didn't blink.

The guys stormed in through the side door, the secret entrance that connected the kitchen to the men's room.

They brought the tarp and supplies.

I togged Jules' arm.

Come on, you don't want to stay for this part.

I can't believe that just happened.

She still wouldn't blink.

The first time's always the hardest, I told her as I locked the men's door behind us.

It gets easier.

Julie turned and looked me dead in the face.

I killed him.

You incapacitated him.

Technically, the guys do that part.

She stared at the newspaper clippings on the wall, but I doubt she saw them.

You know what my ex does?

I said, projecting my voice over the sound of the saw starting up.

He's all over social media, posting pics of how our kids are his whole world.

His tattoo is of our kids' name.

Meanwhile, he's late for child support almost every month.

And bails on his custody weekends half the time.

Unless he has a new girlfriend, then all of a sudden, he's super dad.

I gave up college because I was pregnant, and he swore we'd be a real family.

I had two toddlers by the time I left him at 22.

And a few months later, I lost my job.

She peered into my face, disbelief and exhaustion mixed in her eyes, but she pulled back enough to listen to what I said.

Why

are you telling me this?

Because we all have our reasons for working the night shift.

It isn't a competition about who has it worse.

Just...

focus on that, okay?

Keep reminding yourself of why you're here.

Two hours later, the diner was empty.

Dawn inched closer, but wasn't quite here yet.

This last gasp of night felt eerie, like something humans weren't supposed to witness.

I blasted my Be Chill playlist to drown out the noises from the kitchen.

Here.

I handed some folded-up bills to Jules.

Your first tip?

As she flipped through them, her mouth dropped open slightly.

That's the finder's tip.

Mr.

Wesker will tip you again later.

All of the alternative clients tip well.

Then there's the paycheck.

Night crew makes double the rate of day shift.

That's a lot.

She was still staring at the cash in her hand.

I didn't know if she was talking to herself or me, but I did know without a doubt that I won won the bet with Diego.

The door opened with a ding.

A gray man walked in.

Gray suit, gray-streaked hair, gray eyes.

Even his skin held a sickly gray tint, like a long-term patient finally released from hospice.

Hello, Mr.

Wesker.

I smiled.

You're in luck.

Today's long pork special is fresh.

It should be ready momentarily.

How delightful.

His words seemed to float in the air around us.

My shift ended in an hour.

I thought about Mackenzie's science project, which was due by the end of the week.

Quinn needed new glasses soon.

I'd better put aside the copay now.

Someone had a big game this Saturday.

I just needed to double-check who.

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And now, the No Sleep Podcast concludes its 21st season with an epic tale from writers Paul Kordick and Mike Manning.

In this tale, we meet Zoe and Sean.

They're attending a wedding for one of Zoe's college friends.

and through a strange series of events, they end up at the wrong wedding.

Rather than merely leave, they decide to crush the reception for fun.

Although, fun is the last thing they'll experience at this wedding.

And so, this is one wedding where the term dearly beloved doesn't really apply.

No, this story is only for the deadly beloved.

There she is.

Thought you were gonna sleep the entire way.

And I probably would have if you didn't make it a habit of driving into every pothole in the road.

Well, now you're just lying.

I've counted at least a dozen I've missed up to this point.

Oh, and thanks again for passing out 20 minutes into the ride.

It's been a real joy to travel in utter silence for the past couple of hours.

Your sarcasm is one of the main reasons I decided to get some beauty sleep.

Where are we anyway?

Looks like we just crossed over into

Cecil.

I didn't even know there was a Cecil.

About another 10 minutes, it looks like.

We've been in this car forever.

I don't get why people do these destination weddings, you know?

What kind of destination is this supposed to be, anyway?

Sending us out to the middle of goddamn Hickville on a Saturday.

Well, I will make sure to pass along your passive-aggressive comments to the bride when we see her.

You should.

You really should.

Certain things just make too much sense not to do them.

You need a suit, you go to a tailor.

You want to get married, you go find a church.

You gotta take a shit, You go find a bathroom.

Do you know where your thoughts are going to end up when they come out of your mouth?

Or do you just kind of see where they land?

Oh, I'm thinking on a whole different plane than you.

You wouldn't get it.

Sean.

What?

You unplugged my phone.

Yeah.

I needed to plug mine in.

The GPS is killing my battery.

it's literally at five percent and we're almost at the venue going to this thing is bad enough but now i have to actually interact with people i needed to charge my phone what'd you want me to do

so what now you're gonna be pissed at me for the rest of the ride

probably the rest of the day if i had to guess

I actually don't think a thank you would be out of line at this moment

For what?

For agreeing to be your date to this thing?

For driving you across the state?

For

thank you.

What was that?

You're gonna have to speak up.

I said thank you.

There it is.

Practice saying it a few more times and it might even make its way into your regular vocabulary.

I'm serious.

It means a lot you came.

What?

Attending a wedding with my ex-girlfriend?

How could I say no?

What?

It's nothing.

I'm serious.

I want to know.

Half of me wasn't even sure you'd pick up the phone when I called.

And the other half?

The other half was pretty much expecting you'd tell me to fuck off.

I'm not gonna say the thought didn't enter my mind.

I'm still kind of shocked you wanted me to come.

Nobody would have said anything.

Are you kidding me?

Everybody would have had something to say.

My friends smell drama like sharks smell blood.

It's like they're fucking superpower.

I'd walk in and there'd be this obvious exchange of fake pleasantries.

I love your nails.

Oh my god, thank you.

Your hair looks fabulous.

Even though I wouldn't have styled it that way.

And then the interrogation would begin.

Where's Sean?

Is he sick?

Did he have to work?

Does he hate Denise?

Then I'd ultimately end up confessing to the breakup because my poker face is no match for their drama senses.

Did he cheat on you?

Did you cheat on him?

They wouldn't get it.

Wouldn't get what?

That sometimes there's no drama.

Sometimes people just grow apart.

And then it ends.

Is that the reason?

What do you mean?

That we just grew apart?

Sean.

I'm being serious.

It's been three months, and I feel like you've never given me a clear reason why you broke things off.

I don't want to do this now, Sean.

I invited you to this thing to avoid drama, not add to it.

Sometimes it takes more effort to hide a problem than to face it head-on.

You sound like a corny-ass fortune cookie.

You know, sooner or later, you're gonna have to start telling people we broke up.

I can't be on some sort of perverted retainer keeping up appearances on the weekends.

And I will.

I just want to get through tonight, and I'll break the news to everyone next week in a dramatically worded Instagram post.

Well, thank you.

That's very mature of you.

I had no idea you even still kept in contact with Denise.

I can only think of the one time she came to visit us the entire time we were together.

I know.

I feel kind of shitty I haven't put more effort into our friendship the past couple of years.

We were so close in college.

I don't know what happened.

A wise woman once told me sometimes

we just grow apart.

Don't even.

It's natural not to stay in touch with friends from college.

Just because some administrator assigned dorm rooms at random one year, you're legally obligated to hang out with that person for the rest of your life?

No.

But she still thinks of me enough to send out an invite to her wedding.

That has to count for something.

Yeah, she wants you to contribute to her honeymoon fund.

More More guests equal more money.

All these weddings are scams.

Nothing that lasts a couple hours should cost 20 grand.

You paid a couple thousand for those Backstreet Boy tickets last year.

One, they were floor seats.

So let's make that clear right off the bat.

Two, if you tell anyone else about that, I'll kill you.

It just feels like I've been stuck in neutral since college.

Everyone is moving on and doing shit with their lives.

I'm still playing the struggling artist guard, which was cute during school, but now it's just

getting pathetic.

You're right.

You should probably end it all right now.

Yeah, you're probably right.

No, I'm being serious.

I mean, most artists are never truly appreciated until after they're dead, right?

I guess.

Do me a favor and open up the glove box for me.

Jesus Christ, Sean, why do you have a gun?

Why does anyone have a gun?

Hand it to me.

No, I'm not giving you the gun.

You're driving.

Then I'll pull over and grab it myself.

Sean, this isn't.

I said, give give me the fucking gun

We both know how shitty of a writer you are so

this can do nothing but help your career I can see the headlines now.

Obscure horror novelist Zoe Taylor murdered by her lovesick beau.

The tabloids lead it up.

Sean,

Sean, listen to me.

Put the gun down and we can go back home.

I just want to go home.

Sean, no, if you're struggling, we can talk about it.

We can get you help.

There she is.

Thought you're gonna sleep the entire way.

You have another one of your dreams.

Yeah,

how bad,

Not as bad as the others.

You missed a call while you were sleeping.

Sorry, I had to unplug your phone because of the

GPS, yep.

Anybody important?

Just my agent.

Aren't you gonna call her back?

What's the point?

I have a feeling she just wants to berate me about this month's book sales.

What?

Low numbers?

I would kill for low numbers at this point.

I would kill for any numbers.

You have to give these things time.

Your work just needs to find its audience.

You sure about that?

What would you know anyway?

We dated five years and you never read any of my work.

Okay,

I can tell you've been holding on to that one for a rainy day.

It's not that I don't support you, it's just that I don't read those

books,

you know, horror, scary stories.

Horror is one of the best-selling genres in the literary world, I'll have you know.

Stephen King alone is like one of the best-selling authors of all time.

Exactly.

And he's also like the only horror author that anyone recognizes, leaving no room for no offense, struggling writers like yourself.

First off, complete offense taken, and secondly, that's not true at all.

You got Bram Stoker, Edgar Allan Poe, H.P.

Lovecraft, all famous dead white guys from over a century ago.

Which, sorry, but you don't exactly fit that bill.

But there's just no money in it.

Jordan Peel is one of the highest paid directors in Hollywood.

Oh, cool.

You named the exception.

It's not about the money, anyway.

It's always about the money.

I just

want to write content I'm proud of.

What if you tried writing those romance novels or stories like we used to watch on Lifetime?

We used to watch those movies so we could make fun of them.

I don't want people making fun of my stories.

I can only write what I know.

Anything besides that,

it's just

bullshit.

No, that statement you just made is a bunch of bullshit.

Fiction, by definition, is make-believe.

Well,

yeah.

Like, I don't have Jason Voorhees or Michael Myers stalking me outside my window at night.

But we're all afraid of something.

A killer, scary story can heighten your blood pressure, increase your heart rate.

So can an orgasm.

That's not funny.

What?

An orgasm is the only thing in the world everyone can agree is a good thing.

The only thing.

Go ahead and try to think of something else.

It's a fascinating exercise.

What's wrong?

It's like you never never took me or any of my writing seriously.

That's not true.

I always felt like you viewed it as some sort of hobby or something.

Zoe and her stupid little stories.

I mean,

I know scary stuff or reading all together isn't your favorite thing, but that really hurt me.

I really don't know where this is all coming from right now.

I ordered all your books the moment they were available on Amazon, didn't I?

You made me order them for you.

Yeah, but on my credit card.

Sean,

the only thing worse than being told you're a bad writer is having your writing ignored.

Zoe.

What?

Look at me.

No.

Zoe, look at me.

I'm sorry.

Do you know what I used to do every Thursday night growing up?

Please say something dirty.

While all my friends were at the mall or out with boys, my dad and me would make sure we were right in front of the TV at exactly nine o'clock for Dr.

Oppenheimer's House of Horror movie of the week.

Did you ever watch old old movies or shows like that with your parents?

My parents valued back massages and infidelity over horror movies.

Well, I mean, it doesn't just have to be scary movies.

The classics, like Rebel Without a Cause or Brian's Song.

Oh, God, no.

I hate musicals.

We just grew up so different, I guess.

I didn't have a big family or people waiting on me.

I had Freddy Krueger and Hannibal Lecter posters on my walls.

The first doll I ever owned, I named Chucky just because it had red hair.

My dad ruined his body working three jobs just to give us the life we had.

So when he would rush home from work and make time to watch some cheesy horror flick with me,

it meant something.

He never let me down.

He always made it home on time, and now

ever since he died,

I've been letting him down ever since.

I don't like you talking like that, so

if your pops was still around, there's not a doubt in my mind he'd be so proud of what you're doing.

You gonna get that?

No,

it's not important.

You sure?

Because it sounds like a potential date trying to get in contact with you.

How

did you uh

we don't have to make this weird.

I've been on the market just as long as you have.

Actually, become somewhat of an expert identifying all the notification sounds at this point.

It's only been three months.

I'm a quick study.

And hold on, are you getting pissed off at me for a guy messaging you in my car?

Yes.

And when you say it out loud like that, I feel even dumber.

You're right.

I'm turning this thing off.

That's a spirit.

Emotionally and technologically unavailable.

Guys love that.

I had no idea you had become so well-versed with your dating apps.

Is there a question hiding underneath that thinly veiled, bitchy remark?

Hmm, perhaps.

Really don't want to get into this right now.

Nope, it's too late.

You've piqued my interest.

Besides, it'll kill some time before we get to the wedding.

So would sitting in complete silence.

What?

What are you doing?

You're just embarrassing yourself now, you know that, right?

Come on.

This is a safe space.

A safe space?

I don't know what's faker between your nails or that comment.

There might be one girl.

You son of a bitch.

I knew it.

How dare you move on so fast?

You said this was a safe space.

I would have...

Sean,

I'm just fucking with you.

Relax.

So,

this new girl,

could you see it becoming serious?

Christ, I don't know.

It's been less than a month.

I mean, how much can you really tell after a month?

I used to think you could.

So,

not a day has gone by in the last five years that I didn't think about how lucky I was to have you in my life.

You're literally the first girl I actually saw myself settling down with, starting a future with.

It hurt a lot losing you.

Fuck, it

still hurts a lot.

What I'm trying to say is,

I guess it's not easy for me to talk about this kind of stuff with you, you know?

I know.

So,

what's her name?

I can't do this with you.

What?

What did I do?

This is so you.

What?

You think you can just manipulate any person that stands between you and getting what you want?

Not any person.

I usually just do it to you.

But, I mean, if you're embarrassed of her, I totally get it.

I'm done.

She's just this girl I met, and we've hung out a few times.

Satisfied?

Not even close.

So what's she like?

She drinks tequila from the bottle and has webbed feet.

What the fuck does it matter what she's like?

I'm simply attempting to paint a picture of this girl from the limited amount of details I've been provided.

Plus, if she's scary enough, maybe I'll make her a villain in my next book.

Right now, you're kind of freaking me out.

She looks like me?

Yeah,

two eyes, one nose, dead ringer.

What color hair?

Blonde.

You told me you only liked brunettes.

When I'm dating brunettes, I like brunettes.

When I'm dating blondes, I like blondes.

Skanky hair.

Go on.

We just have a lot in common, I guess.

She's pretty cool.

Like we spent this last weekend kayaking with her friends down at Tupelo.

Tupelo?

You never once wanted to go kayaking when we were dating.

I also used to shit my pants when I was three.

But I guess I've grown up a bit since then.

Well,

she sounds fantastic.

I'm really happy for you guys.

I'm picking up on your sarcasm, loud and clear, at the moment, but

she kind of is.

It's going really well, actually.

What about you?

What about me, what?

You seeing anyone new?

I really don't feel like I'm comfortable talking about that with you at this particular moment.

Are you kidding me?

I tell you, I'm seeing someone and you clam up all of a sudden.

Oh, my participation in this subject matter was clearly one-sided from the beginning.

I'm sorry if you didn't pick up on that.

You are unbelievable, you know that

fine.

I didn't really want to know anyway.

I've only been on a few dates since we broke up.

A few,

yeah,

a few.

Like,

how many would you say?

What, like all together?

Yeah.

Like

three?

Like three or three?

Three.

Definitely three.

Any promising candidates?

Sean Bennett.

Do I detect a subtle hint of jealousy in your voice?

On the contrary, I just would like to know who you were seeing when the cops come knocking at my door because some psycho locked you in their basement.

When I do finally get back up on that horse, he won't be a psycho.

I can promise you that.

I believe we have finally arrived.

Black Rose Manor, where love is never scarce.

Lord, it's going to be one of those weddings.

So, which one do we think it is?

Does the invite say which trail number to take?

It doesn't say.

Of course it doesn't.

Okay, then I'll go with Trail One.

What if it's two or three?

And what if it's one?

Look, someone's coming.

Righty, folks.

I take it you're here for a wedding.

It'd be mighty strange if we weren't

We're here for the rice wedding

rice wedding rice wedding

God I would kill for some rice right about now

Wife's got me on that keto diet.

You ever heard of that?

Pretty much the only rule is you can't eat anything that tastes good

We're kind of in a hurry if you could just tell us where to go.

Oh, I'm sorry.

Of course.

Of course.

Here we go.

Rice wet.

Of course.

Oh,

looks like they booked the high roller venue.

You folks are in for quite the hoot, Nanny, this evening.

Cutting it kind of close, though, ain't you?

That's kind of why we're in a hurry.

Well, I know I'd be mighty peeved if my guests shuffled in tardy back on my big day.

Well, I'll keep that in mind next time you get married.

Sir, I'm picking up a tone of satire and nasty from you that, frankly, I don't think I care for very much.

Sir?

Hi, what's your name?

Name's Whalen, ma'am.

Waylon, don't you waste another minute of your time on my friend here.

He's currently riding a streak of embarrassing sexual performances with his lady.

That would leave any man feeling ornery.

Well, I'm sorry, mister.

I didn't mean to rag on you with your soldier at half-mast.

No need to apologize.

That trail, marked number one, will take you folks to exactly where you need to get.

Thanks, Whalen.

Can we bring you back a piece of cake or maybe a water?

No, ma'am.

I figure you were sweet enough all by yourself to satisfy any cravings I might be getting this evening.

You all have a nice time at that wedding, though, you hear?

Do you want us to bring you back some cake?

What the hell was that all about?

What?

He helped us find the right venue.

He's a fucking valet.

What else do they have to do?

All right,

let's do this thing.

I know I've been moody and impatient this entire trip.

You've been that way since I met you.

I'd be worried if you started to switch things up now.

I was being serious before.

Thanks for doing this.

Don't you start getting all sentimental on me, Zoe Taylor.

You hear?

Look at all the flowers.

This must have cost a fortune.

Never seen black roses before.

Yeah, me neither.

Damn thing got me.

Try not to bleed on all the decorations before dinner.

Chardonnay, miss?

Sir?

Oh,

yes, thank you.

I will say, Denise was never lacking for class

brideside, right?

Right.

Looks like there are some open seats in the back.

Excuse me, sir.

If we can just squeeze past?

Thank you.

Excuse me.

Thanks.

What's wrong?

I don't recognize any of these people.

That's because you don't know many people.

Well, I can't have been the only person from school to get invited.

Oh my god.

What?

This isn't happening.

What?

That isn't Liam.

Who's Liam?

The guy Denise is marrying.

What do you mean that's not Liam?

What do you think I mean?

That's not the guy Denise is engaged to.

We're at the wrong goddamn wedding.

I can't even deal with this right now.

Are you sure?

Maybe you've just never seen him from this angle.

We have to go.

Stand up.

Shit.

Is that the priest?

Why is he dressed like a plague doctor?

Maybe some sort of shaman?

Could be one of those New Age religions.

He's doing that Lion King thing.

You know, in the monkey marks Simba's forehead?

Oh, God, that's not blood, is it?

Praise be to the void.

For the void is good.

You may all be seated.

Each of our hearts come with an expiration date, a set number of beats before we simply cease to be.

It is because of these valuable beats that I find it extremely uncivil to waste your time with thoughtless rhetoric and wax poetic about the virtues of love.

So, I'll get right to my point.

Love is awful.

It is painful.

It's frightening.

It makes you doubt yourself, judge yourself, distance yourself from the other people in your life.

It makes you selfish.

It makes you creepy.

Makes you obsessed.

Makes you cruel.

Makes you say and do things you never thought you would do.

It's all any of us want, and it's hell when we get there.

So, no wonder it's something we don't want to do on our own.

Love is not something that weak people do.

Finding love takes faith.

It takes courage.

It takes heart.

Today, these two young people stand before us to profess their love for one another.

Do you trust them?

We do.

This congregation has gathered together to witness your love for one another.

Never turn your back on those that give you strength.

Will the wedding party please bring out the cleansing materials?

What?

A fruit fetish?

What the fuck are we watching?

I'll let you know when I figure it out.

Some sort of Last Supper reference.

I wanted to end this ceremony with an embarrassing admission on my own behalf.

There is a point to my admission, and I ask you to be patient with me while I make it.

You see,

I have always been a little odd.

I like zombies.

There comes a point in all our lives when the mask slips, and people we once believed to be friends reveal their true colors.

We see their anger, their spite, their malice, evil ways we had not detected before, but had been right in front of us this entire time.

Once a person is bitten by a zombie, there is no hope.

The only way to deal with the monster is to stab or shoot them in the brain, for otherwise they are merciless and relentless.

Now you may be thinking to yourself, Brother Jacob, why do you waste my time with your tales of these fabled beasts?

Well, I'm here to tell you that zombies do exist,

believe me.

And when one comes for you, which they will, they always do,

will you fight or let them bite you?

It is my belief that David and Anna will not go quietly, that they will destroy any being that dares bring harm to this congregation, That they will be purveyors of what is good and just in this world.

Now,

it is my great honor to introduce to you for the first time these two young people coming together as one.

Did the priest just

kiss the bride?

He appears to still be kissing the bride.

Sweet as any Georgia peach I've ever tasted.

Ladies and gentlemen, I give to you Mr.

and Mrs.

David Aiken.

If we leave now, I'm sure we can get there before Denise realizes we missed the ceremony.

Sean, unlock the door.

I'm not sure we should leave.

I am not playing around with you.

Unlock the door.

Hear me out.

We don't have time.

We're late enough as it is.

Hand me the keys.

I'll drive.

Okay, well, that's not happening, so there's that.

But just hear me out.

What if we lucked out by ending up at the wrong wedding?

I can count numerous times in my life I've been lucky.

I could use a lot of words to describe what we witnessed back there, but lucky would not be one of them.

Let's be honest.

Neither one of us wanted to go to Denise's wedding in the first place.

And this one?

I've never seen something like this before.

I just watched the happy couple get marked with blood and water massage the bride's feet.

You can stay here and observe your sick little party, but I'm not sticking around.

It's weird, I know, I'll give you that.

But at this wedding, we don't have expectations.

No obligations.

We can eat their food, drink their liquor, and come and go as we wish.

We don't even know a single person in that place.

People don't know half the people at the weddings they go to.

If someone asks who we are, we just say we're from the half they don't know.

You're insane.

You know that, right?

Insane, demented, deranged.

Say any number of insults, but just say we're staying.

What about dinner seats?

They plan those things months out in advance.

We just find two empty chairs.

Can't be that hard in a place that big.

And what if the guests show up and tell us we're in their seats?

We just say we sat at the wrong table and find two more.

I was under the impression you had more stones than this, Miss Taylor.

What's the real reason you want to stay at this place?

Listen, I just spent the last three hours of my life driving across the peach state in uncomfortable dress clothes for you.

All I'm asking for is a free meal and a few cocktails before we make the trek back.

You at least owe me that.

I don't know.

Come on.

Okay,

let's do it.

You serious?

Yeah.

What's the worst worst that could happen?

I'm going to get us some drinks.

I feel like we're going to need them.

Looks like I'm on seek duty.

I hope you know they're going to kill you.

Excuse me?

Those shoes you're wearing are going to be the death of you.

Oh,

thanks for the observation.

I know I couldn't last ten minutes in those things.

Well, us women have many talents that have seemed to evade men over the years.

Hard to argue with science.

I'm Derek, by the way.

I've been standing behind you for the last couple of minutes, plotting some sort of

suave introduction, and it seems the best I could muster was commenting on your feet.

Now, the last thing I want is us getting off on the wrong foot.

Foot humor, the way to any girl's heart.

I didn't catch your name.

I didn't throw it.

Oh, come on now.

I bet you have a beautiful name to match that face.

It's Zoe.

Zoe.

Just Zoe, for now.

Well, just to Zoe.

It is a pleasure to be stuck in line with you.

Didn't I see you up with the other groomsmen at the ceremony?

That would be me.

David and I are pretty close, I guess you could say.

I take it you know Anna

Yep

School or work

or

if I'm being honest Derek, I came to this line for a drink not an interrogation

You're right.

Wow, I am fucking up royally left and right today, I guess

And on that note, I will be heading back to my table.

But what about your drink?

Oh, I don't drink.

I got what I came for.

Daddy, Daddy, did you see her dress?

I sure did, Pumpkin.

Will I have a dress like that when I get married?

Of course, Princess.

You can have whatever you want.

I can't wait to get married.

Hold on, Tim, while you can, kid.

Don't grow up too fast.

Daddy, look!

Daddy!

Daddy!

Daddy!

Oh, hush, little girl, you'll frighten the popcorn pieces back into the kernels.

Now, while I'm taking care of the popcorn, I'm putting you on drink duty.

I'm always on drink duty.

Well, that works because I'm always on popcorn duty.

Run over to the refrigerator, will you, and pour us both some soda for the movie?

You get that story back from your teacher that we worked on?

Girl, I know your hearing ain't that bad.

Answer me now.

No, will you look at this?

That woman gave you a D plus?

This can't be right.

Well, it is.

But we worked on that story together all weekend.

I read it myself.

It was a masterpiece.

Mrs.

Wilkins said it was too scary.

Too scary?

Well, that's the damn point of the whole thing.

Too scary.

She said it wasn't appropriate for the classroom setting.

Ah, classroom setting, my ass.

Write a story about something you're passionate about.

That was the topic, right?

Yeah.

What about the other kids in your class?

What did they all write about?

I don't know.

Everyone had something different.

Tommy Ferguson got the only A in the entire class.

He did this essay about the life and times of Benjamin Franklin.

Well, Tommy Ferguson sounds like a little kiss ass, if you ask me.

Dad?

I'm just playing with you, baby girl.

I guess this is all part of the process for you.

What do you mean?

I never met a writer who didn't come with their share of critics.

No one is going to like everything you write.

You do?

Well, I have excellent taste.

Not many people do.

I don't think I want to be a writer anymore, Dad.

What is that nonsense you're going on about now?

You just going to go and give up every time something don't go the way you like?

That's not how I raised you.

What's the point of telling a story if no one is going to like it?

You don't tell a story because you want people to like it.

You tell a story because it's part of your voice.

What do you mean, your voice?

Oh, child.

Didn't you know?

Your voice is the most powerful instrument you own.

All those stories up in your head you're always going on about, they're just ideas until you give them a voice.

It really is a gift, Zoe.

Wait, did you melt the butter for the popcorn yet?

Let me worry about that butter and you just try to soak up all this wisdom I'm trying to pass along to you.

Many years ago, in a land thousands and thousands of miles away from where we sit now, there lived a tribe of people called the Nakota.

Dad, I don't want to hear one of your stories again.

Well, that's too damn bad because this butter hasn't melted yet.

Now keep your little narrow behind down in that chair and listen to my story.

Where was I?

Oh, yeah, the Nakota.

Now, mind you, this was long before TV and movies and newspapers.

The only way to entertain each other back then was by storytelling.

That seems pretty boring.

I can see how you might think that, but the people of the Nakota were legendary for their storytelling skills.

Their stories of brave warriors past and evil beasts that lived just beyond the desert were captivating.

So,

what happened?

The tribe lived in happiness and harmony for many years, passing their stories down generation after generation,

until one day...

Dad, wait, is this a true story?

Mrs.

Wilkins said it isn't nice to tell fake stories.

All my stories are true stories, and don't interrupt me again.

Now, one day this dark cloud from off on the horizon starts creeping in closer to the Nakota's home.

It waited until until the middle of the night to settle above the tribe.

Hours turned into days, days into weeks, and so on and on.

The tribe decided to forget the cloud and get back to their way of life, but something had changed.

What changed?

Elders of the tribe began to notice that the children of the Nakota had lost their voice.

Why couldn't they talk?

Their voices had floated right into the dark cloud up above them.

Over the next couple of years, elders began to die.

With the younger generation unable to pass along their stories, the Nakota people forgot their culture.

They forgot who they were.

With no sense of community, the tribe began to splinter and moved away to other lands.

The dark cloud left the Nakota village soon after, looking for a new generation of voices to steal.

Well,

why couldn't they just get their voices back?

Oh no, it's not that simple, you see.

Once you lose your voice, it is nearly impossible to get it back.

Are you picking up any of this, or am I just wasting my breath?

I think

I got about half of it.

Half is good, I'll take half.

Isn't the movie about to start?

You know what?

I think you're right.

Don't let anyone in this world ever make you feel like your voice isn't worth being heard.

You understand me?

Because I've heard it and it is beautiful.

Okay, Dad.

Now come on, Dr.

Oppenheimer's movie of the week waits for no one.

Let's go.

Excuse me.

What?

The bar is open.

Some of us actually want to drink today.

Of course.

I'm sorry.

Yes, Mrs.

Boudreaux.

Mint julep, Charlie.

And light on the garnish this time.

Contrary to popular belief, I prefer to actually taste my alcohol when indulging.

Yes, Mrs.

Boudreaux, right away.

And for you, ma'am?

I'll just have a beer.

With a glass?

Yes, ma'am.

Can I help you?

Is it all right for you people to be drinking on the job?

Excuse me?

I'm not looking to make waves.

I just find it uncouth for the help to be drinking while on duty, is all.

Well, I'm not one of the servers.

Oh, ma.

Oh, my heavens.

Please forgive me.

I am beyond humiliated.

That's all right.

It's just that with that dress, I thought you were one of the Gaterers.

And with those shoes, I thought you were a hooker.

That was good.

I like you.

You're not from around here, are you?

Nope.

That was my way of asking you where you're from.

Oh, I know.

I just find you extremely rude and would rather not continue this dialogue any longer.

Oh, come on now.

Don't get all red ass on me.

I was only teasing about the dress.

I'm Stacey Boudreaux.

Perhaps you've heard of me.

Can't say I have.

I was Miss Teen Georgia back in 2010.

Good for you.

I want a spelling bee back in second grade.

The whole town still talks about it.

I sure do hope your attitude improves before the evening is over.

It's not safe to walk around here with such a sharp tongue.

Are you our last table buddy?

Do you have to call them table buddies?

Makes us sound gayer than we already are.

It looks like I am.

Where's my drink?

Shit.

I guess I forgot it.

I can go back up and get you one.

No worries, dear.

Here, Sean, you can have my extra.

Frankie has been trained to always bring me back multiple drinks whenever we get a a night out to ourselves.

Holy hell, what is this?

Smells like gasoline.

It's called a fiery German.

One part Jaeger, two parts fuck you up.

Don't let the slight frame fool you.

My girl can drink men twice her size under the tape.

It is so nice to make new friends.

It literally is my favorite part of the wedding experience.

You'll have to excuse my wife.

She's a bit of a talker.

So,

you're married?

Yeah, why?

Does it make you uncomfortable the two women can show their love for one another?

No, I was just.

Settle down there, Frankie.

The girl was just asking a question.

You'll have to excuse her, dear.

If there's two things that lesbians hate, it's being told they can't do something in anything shaped like a penis.

Can we hold off on the penis remarks until at least after dinner, Claire?

I didn't mean to upset anyone.

Don't give it a second thought, dear.

I could sense you were a good soul the moment you sat down.

Sense

Alex is a practicing wiccan,

like a witch,

like a psycho is more like it.

Not like a witch.

I am a witch.

If I may be frank, I think all the spells and incantations are a bunch of nonsense.

But what I do know is that this woman put some kind of trance over me the moment I laid eyes on her.

Frankie, stop.

You're embarrassing me.

Alex was telling me she does palm ratings.

Oh, you have to let her do one for you, Zoe.

It's really some freaky shit.

So, what you can, like

tell my future?

It's not an exact science, of course.

Usually, the more open to the experience a person is, the easier it is to read them.

The more walls they put up, the harder it is for me to break through.

Go ahead, Zoe.

I want to see what she says.

What do you see?

Hmm.

I see

sadness.

I see a girl who holds on to more pain than she can carry.

I sense a yearning.

A yearning?

You've been yearning and never told me?

Please keep all comments to yourself until after the reading.

Where was I?

All right.

A yearning for something just outside of your reach.

I'm not sure what you mean.

Well, that was fun.

What?

That's it?

Yeah.

What fun is it if you have all the answers?

Live a little.

Um.

Is he

all right?

Oh, Calvin.

Calvin's doing just fine.

Suffered a series of strokes a few years back.

He's the life of the party.

Don't be rude to the pretty lady, Calvin.

Say hi.

He likes you.

I can sense it.

So, enough about us.

Zoe, what do you do?

Zoe happens to be a writer.

She's published almost, what, now, like four novels?

Eleven.

Eleven novels?

Zoe, Zoe, Zoe.

You've been burying the lead since you sat down, child.

I had no idea I've been sitting next to a famous writer this entire time.

I can think of about a million words you could use to describe me before famous pops up.

Anything I would have read?

Frankie is a voracious reader.

We've actually been struggling as of late to make room in our home for her numerous books.

Well, we wouldn't be herding for extra space if Alex didn't feel the need to dedicate our den to her beanie baby collection.

And when they regain their proper value, don't bother coming to me for the residuals.

I don't think so, Frankie, unless you're into horror.

Oh, God, yes, I love a good scary story.

Who doesn't?

Apparently, the millions of people that don't order my books.

Mother,

I see that we have a new guest dining with us tonight.

Your skills of perception never cease to amaze me.

This is Zoe.

And what do I call you, Sean?

Friend, boyfriend, fuck buddy?

All those work, I guess.

Well, let me be just the first to greet y'all by saying Gamar Joba.

What now?

Give it a break, Stacey.

It's George's native way of greeting strangers we meet along our travels.

I learned the phrase during my time on the Miss USA pageant tour.

We just found out Zoe here is a famous author.

I'm not really sure how famous someone can be if I've never heard of them.

Dear, you'd also never heard of Chlamydia, but that didn't stop you from contracting it.

Mother, that was only for our ears.

And between your legs, apparently.

You'll all have to excuse my daughter.

It seems she misplaces her manners after a properly fashioned julep or two.

Oh, it's quite all right, Claire.

We all have our shortcomings.

Sean, are you also a writer?

Oh, God, no.

I couldn't write a grocery list.

I decided to pursue the family business.

What would that be?

Nuts.

Did you say nuts?

What kind of nuts?

Oh, all kinds, really.

Peanuts, cashews, almonds.

You name a nut, we sell it.

I've never really cared for nuts.

There's the understatement of the year.

Claire, Sean's grandfather started his own company over 60 years ago.

Today, they run one of the largest nut farms in the entire country.

I had no idea they had entire farms dedicated to nuts.

Have you guys ever heard of Busta Nut?

Your family owns Busta Nut?

That we do.

How delightful.

Frankie, you remember that jingle they had back in the day?

They're lightly toasted and hard as hell, so bust a nut.

We won't tell.

No shit, that was you.

That was us.

Excuse me.

I think this last seat is mine.

Why, hello, just Zoe.

You two know each other already?

No, not really.

I just happened to be staring at her feet while I was at the bar pretending to get a drink.

Oh.

Derek, would you be a sweetheart and acquire me another julep from the bar?

Stacy,

I would, but I think it would be considerate to make sure everyone else at the wedding gets a first drink before you black out.

Does everybody here know each other?

It's kind of hard not to.

Most of us belong to the same faith group.

Faith group?

Like a church?

Sure, you could say that.

We try to shy away from the church label whenever possible.

Tends to turn off a lot of people from the jump.

Do you believe in a higher power, Zoe?

I believe it's important to be a good person.

Well, no shit.

So, if you're not a church, what kind of group are you guys?

Well, our official name is the Children of the Void.

That's pretty creepy, even for me.

Giving off a lot of Children of the Corn vibes.

Now, Zoe, let's not insult the people we're going to be eating dinner with for the next hour or so, early in the night.

Let the girl speak her mind, Sean.

I've never been fond of the name myself, if I'm being honest.

Derek's father's the head of our family.

I still haven't found out what you do, Claire.

Miss Boudreaux has been afforded the luxury of doing absolutely nothing for multiple decades now.

Benefits of prioritizing wealth over love, I guess.

Claire married Beau Boudreaux, the tire king of Georgia.

For a man who deals so much in the rubber industry, he rarely bothered to ever wear one.

That's how I ended up with this little angel next to me.

You must be so proud.

Don't get me wrong.

In the beginning, things were good.

Like they almost always are.

Beau was handsome and sophisticated.

He spoke of adventures and wealth that were beyond my comprehension.

However, over the years, my disdain for the man was only matched by my admiration for his business acumen.

God damn, I swear that man could sell tires to the Amish.

Sooner or later, all men let you down, Zoe.

It's like they have expiration dates on their soul.

You'd be wise to hop over and join our team for your remaining years.

I'm right here.

I know.

That's why I didn't bother whispering.

You can put men down all you want,

but there's simply no replacement for a good stiffy after a long day.

Mother, I will not have you speak vulgarly in front of our guests.

Give it a rest, Stacy.

Hi,

everybody.

Could I have your attention for a moment?

For those of you who don't know me,

my name is Brian Fasio, and I wanted to kick off the festivities tonight by

letting you all know one of the biggest honors of my lifetime was when David asked me to be his best man.

I, um,

I met David during probably the darkest period of my life.

My wife, six years, had recently left me.

She took with her our tiny baby girl and our family dog pork chop.

It seemed.

I.

It seemed

as though I'd reached a breaking point.

A point where I continually asked myself,

Why?

Why go on any longer?

Each morning I woke in a shell,

able to see the world around me, but unable to connect to it.

This guy.

This guy.

This guy.

I don't even know if he knows this.

This guy

saved my life.

One day he spoke of a place free of judgment.

A group of like-minded people that were seeking the same things I was desperately searching for.

Purpose.

I'm proud to say, it's been four years since I've joined your family, and in the short time, I've started my own business, and I'm at the love of my life.

Where's where's Marlene at?

There she is.

I love you, sweetie.

That's my dream girl right there.

Then I'm proud to announce, I hope she doesn't get too mad at me for spelling the beans.

But Marlene and me are expecting our first child later this December.

And all this is because of you, man.

You picked me up when I was down and gave me purpose again.

I love you, man.

I love both of you.

This is for you.

What the fuck?

Is Is that nice?

The children of void.

May our light forever illuminate an otherwise dark world.

Jesus Christ, he's going to kill himself.

That's too much blood.

He seems okay.

Okay, it's just a small cup.

Look, there's already someone to help him.

I love you, man.

For the children of the void,

Oh

God, they're drinking it.

They're drinking it!

A proper speech.

A proper speech indeed, Brother Brian.

Well done.

As we sit here tonight, celebrating and giving thanks, let us never forget that each of us was once as lost as Brian.

Each one of us woke without the motivation to continue the insignificant slosh that you had all become conditioned to, known as life.

But at some point on your path of meaningless chores, you rediscovered the light in each of you.

You refused to be the status quo.

Each of you denied the urge to surrender.

Each of you dug down deep and said, there has to be more than this.

There has to be more.

Balance is life.

There's good, there's evil.

There's right, and there's wrong.

Each member that we take into our family means we must cast out another in order to achieve balance.

For if the balance is not attained,

we topple.

David,

Anna,

have you made your choice?

We have.

I'm proud to say that my Nana has volunteered herself for the honor.

Well, bless that woman's heart.

Where is old Nana?

What are they doing with that woman?

Let us all raise our glasses to honor not only the kind words of close friends, but also to toast the gracious offering of this brave woman to Nana.

Where are they taking her?

Well, if that's not a way to kick this party off, I don't know what is.

David and Anna would like to invite everyone up to the Buffy line for dinner this time.

We need to go.

This isn't funny anymore.

Well, it was never meant to be funny.

You know what I mean.

So, what now?

We just book it from the middle of the buffet line?

They'll know we're phonies.

Sean, at this point, I don't give a fuck what they think.

They're drinking blood and possibly kidnapping old women.

The way these people talk and carry themselves.

It's just not right.

We've already sat through the boring parts.

All that's left to do is eat and dance, and then we're home free.

I just

have a bad feeling.

I'm really freaked out, Sean.

Listen, you don't think I'm a little freaked out, too?

But we haven't eaten since this morning.

Can we at least get through dinner?

And if you still want to book it after, we can discuss it.

Fine.

This one better move fast.

Veal?

Ooh, no thanks.

I don't eat anything that had a mother.

Just take it and give it to me at the table.

I don't want that dead calf's meat on my plate.

Just do it.

On second thought, yes.

Load me up with some of that delicious meat.

Something is off about these people.

I got a witch sitting to the left of me and the beauty queen from hell across the table.

Things don't seem all bad.

Looked like you and Derek were really hitting it off.

What is that supposed to mean?

Come on, so we were together long enough for me to know when you're getting hot under the hood.

Ah, God, you can be such a pig sometimes.

I didn't mean to snap at you.

I'm just

tired and hungry, and this day has not turned out at all how I thought it would.

Yeah, well, that makes two of us.

I just don't know how they turn these radishes into roses.

It is just the cutest.

What's the point of making it into a flower?

All you're doing is eating the damn thing.

Zoe, dear, is there something wrong with your veal?

I noticed you haven't touched it.

Oh, I almost forgot.

Get this off of my plate.

Was it not prepared to your liking?

You say that

it's always vegetarian.

So, you don't eat any meat, not even pigs?

That's pretty much the only rule for being a vegetarian.

I don't know what I would do if I could never eat tacos again.

I'm sure Alex would be a very disappointed lady.

Claire?

I most certainly would be.

I love tacos.

Greetings, folks.

Oh, no need to stop your conversation for the likes of me.

Claire?

Jacob.

Everyone else?

Well, looks like my flock has attracted the attention of a few newcomers.

Derek, aren't you going to introduce me to your new friends here?

Of course.

Where are my manners?

This is Zoe, no last name given, and her good platonic friend Sean.

Do you usually refer to these people as your flock?

Oh, my apologies.

Simply an outdated reference.

It's really Jacob from the Bible.

Well, now, it refreshes the soul to meet a young person like yourself taking such an interest in the good book.

I'm a huge fan of the Bible.

Some of the best fiction ever written, in my opinion.

Zoe is a writer.

Is that so?

What kind of writer would you happen to be, Miss Zoe?

She writes horror stories.

Oh, you like being scared now, do you?

That's good.

Real good.

Not many people like you writing scary stories these days, are there?

What?

Black?

Now it's a party.

I was going to say female, but I guess we can add that to the list as well.

Do you follow the good word?

I believe that every fox should mind their own tail.

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

It's an old proverb, Stacey.

Zoe here is just reminding me that some people should mind their own business.

A wise idea, indeed.

It is, it really is.

It's also a very polite way of telling someone to go fuck themselves.

Now,

wait just a minute.

I don't think she was.

Ah, settle down there, boy, before you get your panties in a bunch.

I'm much too old to be offended.

Now, you may scoff at the scripture, little lady, but I can tell you've had some Sunday schooling in your past.

What is it exactly that you do here, Jacob?

Son, why don't you go up to the bar and get me a drink?

I'm feeling quite parched and require a refreshment.

I am on it.

What is it I do here?

Well, that's a

hard question to answer.

I really don't think it is.

I guess I like to think of myself as the rudder on a boat, an instrument created by the Lord to lead lost vessels who have gone astray.

Lead them to what

towards a purpose, of course.

This world has many evils.

You're not careful, you might come across a few.

So,

what?

All of you are lost?

And you lead them.

By golly, I think she's finally getting it.

And I hope the festivities this evening have been to your liking, Mrs.

Boudreaux.

You sat me with two lesbos, a vegetable and a nut farmer.

I'm tickled pink.

Zoe, do you have a new book on the way?

I've played around with a few ideas, but haven't settled on anything.

Maybe Jacob could be in your next book.

Why would I do that?

I find Jacob's upbringing fascinating.

Tell her, Jacob.

Oh, no, no.

I'm sure Zoe here would have no interest listening to me go on about my lineage.

You think your past would make for a good scary story?

Well,

you tell me.

My father owned a large meatpacking plant only two counties away from where we sit today.

He would spend his mornings counting the money in his registers, while his afternoons were filled with the squeals of various animals, only floors below that were being slaughtered.

After he was convinced he had put in a proper day's work, he would come home and self-medicate from the bar in our basement until dinner time.

My mother, oh, a saint of a woman, God rest her soul,

had finally had enough of his wicked ways and attempted to leave him one night.

My father, who had come home before office hours were up to get an early start on his hangover, found her packing packing suitcases into the car.

He broke her leg with a meat tenderizer in nine places and condemned her to a wheelchair where she would spend the remaining years of her life.

She would often park her chair in front of the living room window overlooking the duck pond, trying to figure out how she had ended up in such a joyless existence.

Well, years of hard liquor and non-filtered cigarettes came calling for my father during his twilight.

On the final day of his life, he called for me from his bed.

The man who had struck fear into my soul for all my life was suddenly nothing more than a withering bag of skin and twisted bones, gasping for each breath just to prolong his survival another meaningless second.

He drew me in close and whispered to me a sentence that still gives me chills to this day.

What did he say?

Not so fast.

You're gonna have to buy the book rights if you want that little secret.

What I can tell you is that my father, at his core, was a brilliant businessman with the heart of a prick.

But a prick with money is still a prick.

Upon his death, I chose to channel our family's financial good fortunes away from the slaughterhouse and into a venture with purpose.

So, you bought a church?

Well, churches, mosques, synagogues, the names are different, but they are all the same.

A building used to welcome people who wish to worship.

I just happen to be their leader.

I lead because I am strong enough to.

A good leader must also show kindness and empathy.

Are you able to relate to these people's plights when you yourself may have never felt them?

Well, I've never had a sharp blade shoved up my ass, but I'm pretty sure I'd know how I'd feel after.

Oh, would you look at that?

I take a second to remember the good old days, and time just has a way of getting away from me.

You all enjoy yourselves now.

After all, this is a party.

Jacob is a little eccentric, but he means well.

He's what you'd call an acquired taste.

Yeah, like gasoline.

Oh my god, this is my fucking song.

Sean, you have to dance with me.

Uh, I don't know.

Would that be okay?

Why wouldn't it be?

Just make sure you get a shot of penicillin before you come back to the table.

May I have this dance?

I thought you'd never ask.

I'm not dancing with you.

Thanks for the heads up.

I'll be at the bar.

Well,

looks like it's just me and you, Calvin.

On second thought, I think I'll head to the bar too.

You're already dead,

you don't even know it.

Claire

What's the matter, dear?

You look like you've seen a ghost.

It's Calvin.

What did that old pervert do now?

I was walking up to the bar and I passed him and he grabbed my arm.

Is that all?

It sort of came out of nowhere.

He was talking all crazy.

Calvin is kind of like that television station that puts out static for most of the day and then decides to come in clear all for a minute for no rhyme or reason.

He's gotten lucid on me in the past.

Just be glad all he grabbed was your arm.

It just

really scared me, is all

two martinis, Charlie?

Yes, ma'am.

He's going to feel you watching him.

Huh?

Sean,

if he can see over my daughter's wild gyrations,

oop, we've been spotted.

Poor boy can't escape.

She's certainly making it difficult for him.

Your drinks, ladies

here, Charlie, for your trouble.

Thank you, Mrs.

Boudreau.

Thanks.

You're mighty popular around here.

Don't ever misinterpret people being nice to you for popularity.

Anyone with money can be popular.

The more cash you have in your bank account, the more people seem to want to kiss your ass.

Not a terrible trade-off in the end, I guess.

I guess not.

Can I

ask you something, Claire?

I have a feeling you're gonna ask me no matter what I say.

You seem kind of out of place around here,

different.

Yeah,

this doesn't exactly seem like your crowd.

My husband was the richest man the state has ever seen.

Also, might have been the biggest asshole, but they don't keep records on those types of things.

However, throughout Bo's 78 years on this earth, a man amassed a shitload of cash.

Along with that cash came power.

And now you're free to spend it however you want.

Oh, sweetie, nothing is ever free.

When I inherited Bo's wealth and power, I also took on certain obligations.

I'm not following.

If you want to get things done in this world, sometimes you need to ask favors from unsavory people.

People who, in a perfect world, you would never subject yourself to interacting with.

When Bo passed, I took on much more than the Boudreaux fortune.

I took on his lifestyle, as well as the people who occupied it.

Claire?

Where are we?

You ever wonder why you never see a rich person by themselves?

You know why that is?

That's because rich people can't brag to themselves about how smart they are.

Each person at this wedding is the elite of the elite.

Look at that crowd.

You have senators, philanthropists, doctors.

You name it, we got them.

Each one of these people people has lost more money in the past 24 hours than you could hope to earn in a lifetime.

A culmination of sad little boys and girls that are searching for a purpose to throw their money behind.

In some twisted way, they feel that if their wealth is going towards a higher power,

maybe they won't burn in hell for all the sins they committed to amass their fortunes.

And you?

What about me, dear?

Is there a spot in hell waiting for you?

Hard to say.

I just hope God grades on a curve.

Now indulge me, child.

What's the real story with this boy who my daughter seems to be molesting out there on the dance floor?

Sean,

there is no story.

Really?

From the looks you're shooting my daughter, I would have guessed there was one hell of a story.

You must be so proud, raising a beauty queen.

I've been trying to guess her talent since the third time she told me.

Beauty queen, huh?

Her damn daddy paid off those judges.

We just never had the heart to tell her she didn't have any talent.

Now, out with the story.

We met in college.

Sean was a junior, and I was a freshman on the track team.

I worked my ass off for that scholarship.

I moved in with my aunt after my dad passed.

It never felt like home, though.

I had never been pursued by someone so handsome and well-to-do, you know?

He came from a world of privilege and wealth.

I was from the slums and ate ramen noodles four days a week.

It's like a fairy tale.

The reason we love fairy tales so much is because none of them are real.

Are you two still?

No.

No.

Strictly friends at this point.

I have a handful of friends, and I don't look at any of them the way you're looking at that boy.

I don't mean to be too forward, but was he a butt man?

A butt man?

It's my own little trick of knowing if a man is worth a damn.

How's it work?

When he opens a loaf of bread for the first time, does he take the butt?

Or does he reach his hand down deeper and leave it for you?

A man that is willing to eat that butt is worth your time.

Pretty girl like yourself, though.

I'm sure you you don't have a problem finding dates.

Perhaps I overestimated your powers.

No, it's just me and my stories for now.

Well, those stories won't keep you warm at night.

What's the holdup?

It's stupid.

Charging $400 a plate at this place is stupid.

You go right ahead and try me.

My dad was my biggest fan.

He'd spend hours just letting me tell him stories.

Didn't matter how short or how long, or how confusing or silly.

He listened to them all.

He gave me my first horror novel, Dracula.

Old paperback he found at a rummage sale one day.

Still have it, you know.

Kept it in every nightstand I've ever owned.

It's just like

since he passed,

I don't feel like I belong.

And if I fail at this whole writing thing, it's like

I'm losing my dad all over again.

Crazy, right?

Not at all.

That's the most sane thing you've said all night.

You keep writing those stories of yours.

The money will come.

That's a nice sentiment.

But I can't pay my bills with your words of encouragement.

When I met Stacy's father, all I had in this world was $200 in my bank account and a great rack.

I would have never imagined I'd be one of the wealthiest women in the country when I was your age.

Sometimes life hands you lemons.

Just got to make lemonade.

Am I right?

No,

you've got to squeeze the fuck out of those lemons to make sure they never give you another one.

Ladies, Claire, would you mind if I borrowed Zoe for a dance?

I don't really want to.

Oh, get out there, hon.

A handsome boy asks you to dance.

You shouldn't think twice.

Are you any good?

You tell me.

Looks like we got some real dancers in the crowd tonight.

Things are getting saucy,

seriously,

okay, show-offs.

I'd say you're pretty good.

I won't argue with that.

Two juleps?

Of course, Mrs.

Badrill.

You want anything?

Just a water?

Make it three.

I don't really want a julep.

Nonsense.

Everyone loves a julep.

That was quite a show you two put on out there.

Yeah,

well, two years of tap.

What can I say?

Three juleps.

Thanks.

Here, Sean, drink this.

No!

shit!

Oh my god, I am so sorry.

I'm sure you are.

I swear, you can't take me anywhere.

Dear, don't you worry.

I've spilled many alcoholic drinks on myself over the years.

Some cold water and a few dabs will take that stain right out.

I'm going to go find a bathroom.

Are you going to be okay, Sean?

He'll be just fine.

I'll take good care of him.

I'm going to kill that bitch.

Hello?

Are you okay in there?

Maybe I can help you.

You need to leave this place.

What did you say?

You need to leave.

They're going to hurt you.

How's the stain?

Shh.

There's someone in there.

Lots of people come in here.

It's a bathroom.

I heard someone crying in the stall.

Listen, they're about to cut the cake.

Sean says he needed to talk to you.

Did you hear what I said?

There's a girl crying in there.

I think something is really wrong with her.

I don't hear anything.

She was just.

If it makes you feel any better, I'll stick around here and make sure she's okay.

You get back to Sean.

But...

Or...

I could go back and keep Sean company myself.

No.

Just

promise me you'll wait until she comes out?

Sounds like something has really got her upset.

Oh, I'm not going anywhere until she comes out.

I guess it needed more than a few dabs.

You You think?

Who's having a good time?

David, Anna, if that cake tastes half as good as it looks, it seems we're all in for a real treat.

But seriously, what is a cake?

A cake is an assortment of items that, on their own merits, are not perceived as desirable.

No one comes running for a steaming bowl of flour in the morning or washes down their toast with a couple of raw eggs from the pantry.

No, you wouldn't do that, would you?

But when this collection of mismatched items comes together, they form something impressive.

Each one of you here tonight was once an undesirable object a being that by itself was deemed worthless.

You each came to me looking for something more.

You felt the void.

You let the sickness that is our world eat at you from the inside out, day after day after day.

We have all come together tonight for one purpose.

To fill that void.

Here, here!

However, it is not without sacrifice, for nothing truly worthwhile is given to us for free.

Amen.

I want you to close your eyes and remember what each of you have already sacrificed to get to this point.

Yes, that's good.

Now, shut your eyes a little harder and ask yourself, How much more would you be willing to sacrifice to stay?

Forgive me if I begin to ramble.

I guess what I'm trying to get across is

when your time comes, what are you willing to do to survive?

Cheers to David and Anna.

All right, folks.

Who's ready for some cake?

Is it strange we can ask you to dance?

I think Stacy should be back any minute if you'd rather wait for her.

I know who I want to dance with.

Now take my hand before I ask Claire.

See?

This is nice.

It's.

something.

Tell me it's not nice.

It's nice.

I just don't want you getting any ideas.

This is just a dance.

We're just two attractive people swinging back and forth for a romantic song together.

What are you doing?

You remember that time we spent the weekend up in Colorado?

And you told me to make sure the kitchen was fully stocked before we got up there?

How could I forget?

You and that snowstorm nearly killed us.

It wasn't all bad.

We spent the entire weekend snowed in eating those...

What were they called?

The little chips we ate?

Bugles.

And we consumed more in two days than a human should ever have to endure.

I don't know if they qualify as aphrodisiacs, but I seem to remember lots of lovemaking next to that fireplace.

Sean,

you can't say things like that anymore.

Why?

I'm just bringing up old times.

Because sometimes old times should stay in the past.

I'm always going to have feelings for you, you know that.

We've been together so long, I don't see how I couldn't.

But I need to find out who I am without you.

And I can't move on unless you know I'm not coming back.

You do know that, right?

I know you've told me that.

I need you to tell me you know we're not getting back together.

I don't know that.

You and me make too much sense to not be together.

We had such a great thing going, and you just threw it all away for no reason.

I didn't throw it all away.

I had my reasons.

And did you ever take my feelings into account?

Did you ever wonder what it would do to me?

Damn it, Zoe.

You can be so goddamn selfish sometimes.

Of course, I thought of you.

I just want to know why.

Whatever it is, I can change.

I can make things better.

Because I stopped loving you as much as you loved me.

Wow.

don't ask questions you don't want the answers to, I guess.

Where are you going, Sean?

Fuck

Come on now, you're much too pretty to be this upset.

I'm sorry.

I didn't think anyone else was

you didn't think that anyone else would be hiding in a storage barn while a wedding is going on, huh?

Hey, I get it.

I guess I needed a little alone time myself.

I didn't take you for a pothead.

Well, first impressions are rarely correct.

You partake

with the night I'm having, pass it.

Seems like everybody at this place is hiding secrets.

What's yours?

My secret,

yeah.

I'll don't tell anyone, but

nothing turns me on more than girls that cry in barns.

That's quite the fetish.

Oh, ever since I was a kid, I just can't get enough of it.

In fact, I've been ostracized for many events because of it.

Oh, you poor thing.

And what's your secret?

I fall for assholes.

Oh, what a coincidence.

I happen to be a huge asshole.

Maybe that's why I kind of like you.

kind of like me?

You just kind of like me?

Yeah.

Maybe a little.

What about your friend you came with?

The Sean guy with the funny hair.

You always bring up other men's names while flirting with a lady?

I just knew from the jump that he wasn't your type, is all.

And how did you know that

he wasn't me?

Is that so?

Let's find out, shall we?

Where'd you go?

I was just getting some air.

Must have been some great air.

Oh my

This light is bright tonight.

Can you all see me alright?

Of course you can.

Oh in this light you can pretty much see anything.

Why, in this light, you are afforded the ability to see me for who I truly am.

I am unable to hide before you, for in the light, we do not know blindness.

I bring this up because it has come to my attention recently that some individuals at this very wedding, this sacred day of all days,

have deceived us.

I believe there are individuals among us that have chosen not to stand in the light.

but would rather cower in the darkness and make us look like fools

I know I like women, but when he talks off fire and brimstone like this, I'd be lying if I said it didn't get me a little wet.

It is our duty to shine a light on these sinners, for if we ignore their trespasses and bury our heads in the sand, are we not any better?

Sean.

I've got you.

He's coming this way.

It sickens me that you have brought your wicked ways with you today and infected my family.

You!

You do not belong here, Missy.

You are meant for worlds of failure and sin, not our utopia that we have sacrificed to cultivate.

Now, how about you do the noble thing and and come with us to receive your penance?

No, I can explain.

This is actually one huge mistake we never meant to.

Silence!

Your words hold no weight here, or

stand before us now.

Zoe, no.

What are you doing?

Sean.

It's okay.

He's right.

We don't belong here.

Let go of me, you sacko bitch!

This is a game you cannot win.

Tread lightly, my dear.

Put the knife down.

I don't play games I can't win.

And I sure as hell ain't losing to you tonight.

This won't end well for you, I'm sure of that.

Whoa, whoa, child.

Whoa.

Let's not do anything we can't come back from.

Jacob, we are a little past that point.

Don't you think?

Sean, stand up.

We're leaving.

Now,

here's what's going to happen.

Me and him are going to walk out of here, and all of you are going to go on celebrating.

And when morning comes, we'll all just pretend this was one fucked-up dream and go on about our day.

Oh, you've done it now.

I hope they got you like the fucking pig you are.

My nose!

She broke my nose!

Sean, Sean, run

should we

go after them?

No,

let's give them a head start.

I like a challenge.

What the fuck was that?

I'm not sure anymore.

We just gotta keep moving.

Do you think we can make it back to the car?

I don't see how we'd have to go past them again.

Well, that's out of the question.

All right, think, think.

Your cell, you can call for help.

Yeah.

What?

What is it?

It's dead.

Dead?

How can it be dead?

You charged it most of the way here!

Must have been the GPS.

Fuck!

It's all right.

We just...

can't panic.

There's no way I'm letting that asshole win.

Let's just.

Let's just sit here for a moment and figure this out.

So, I'm sorry for getting us into this.

Sean, don't get soft on me.

I really need you right now.

I'm not getting soft.

I just.

I feel horrible for putting us in this situation.

And you can make it up to me by getting us out of it.

And I'm sorry about Derek.

I was jealous, and I took it out on you.

I know you're not my girl anymore, and I think I'm finally realizing that.

I just don't think I'll ever get used to seeing you be anyone else's girl, is all

Sean.

I just kiss me, Zoe.

One last time.

Sean,

you said your phone phone was dead.

Yeah,

you can come get us now.

Sean?

I really wish this could have ended a different way.

I really do.

Sean.

What did you do?

I told you back in the car on the way up here.

After you broke things off, I couldn't think straight.

I was a complete mess.

You were everything to me, and then one second later, poof.

You weren't.

So I started looking for distractions.

Anything to stop obsessing over you.

That's when I met Stacey.

No.

No, Sean, no.

She's really a great girl once you get to know her.

I know you two got off on the wrong foot.

I'd even wager you two would have become good friends if you weren't going to be murdered and all.

She brought me here and introduced me to the family.

Just feels right.

You know what I mean?

Like for the first time in my life,

I feel like I belong.

Sean?

Not just anyone can join, you know.

I mean, the entry fee alone is a million.

So,

what now?

Is that all I am to you?

An entry fee?

So, don't talk like that.

You see, the family requires that you be sponsored by one of their own before gaining entry.

That's where Stacy comes in.

You and that bitch deserve each other.

Well, I'm happy I could get your blessing before your untimely demise.

There is a third part to the initiation that is essential.

The sacrifice.

When I found out Denise was getting married at the same venue as David and Anna, I mean, like, come on, Twilight Zone, am I right?

I was mad at first.

But now.

Now I just see how pitiful you actually are.

Whoa, whoa, whoa.

Are you getting on my case for this?

Are you not the same girl who asked me to come to this wedding and ended up fucking some stranger in a barn?

What kind of a shitty person does that, Zoe?

I mean, really, if you ask me, you're just as evil as I am.

At least I know I'm a bad person.

You go around pretending like your shit don't stink.

Sean,

I'm going to stand up and walk away.

And we are never going to see each other again.

Do you understand me?

You're really in no position to negotiate.

Plus, I can't just let you go.

The deposit was non-refundable.

There's just one thing you're forgetting.

And what's that?

I'm the one with the knife.

Ah, my fucking foot!

Get back here, you bitch.

Nobody does this to Sean Bennett.

Nobody

damn it, these shoes are our money.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

What's this stupid been?

Got it!

911, what's your emergency?

Yes, I need the police.

My ex-boyfriend and a murderous cult are trying to kill me.

Oh, I've got a few exes from hell, too.

Uh, how come so many people are after you?

What the fuck does it matter?

I just need help.

We're up at Black Rose Manor and Black Rose.

Oh,

my sister got married there a few years back.

Gorgeous venue.

Send the fucking police now.

Do you understand me?

Well, there's no need for swearing, ma'am.

Ma'am, are you

still there?

Oh, Zoe, you remembered our song.

Found her.

She's here.

Go away!

Leave me alone!

Damn, I forgot how fast you were.

All right, time's up, Zoe.

You're surrounded.

Don't make this harder than it has to be.

Don't you touch her!

Hey, hey, it's okay.

I am not like them.

I'm here to help you.

What are you doing, pretty boy?

This is between me and her.

Butt out.

This girl has done nothing to you.

She's not like the others.

She happens to be my sacrifice, in case you forgot.

I need her in order to join the family.

Oh, fuck the family.

Families love and nurture, not kidnap and murder.

We'll bring her back and I'll talk to my father.

There has to be another way.

Zoe, please.

Take my hand.

I won't let them hurt you.

I promise.

Do you trust me?

I do.

I do.

I do.

I just want to go home.

I'm going to get you home.

I promise.

I don't know what it was about the first time I saw you, but I knew you were different.

You're a...

You're a good person.

I want to be that person again.

I...

I love you, Zoe.

I.

I love you too, Derek.

I just want to go home.

Let's go home.

You son of a bitch.

How the hell did you pull that off?

Yes!

Pay up!

Derek?

What did I tell you?

All women want a shot of vitamin D.

To the victor go the spoils.

What's going on?

Oh, don't look at me like that, Zoe.

We both knew you and me wasn't for the long term.

Your boy, Sean, here, you bet me that I couldn't get you to fall for me over the course of the wedding.

And I would have won, too, if you weren't such a disgusting human being.

I mean, what has he got that I don't?

Well, currently, a hundred-dollar bill in my hand, rich boy.

I mean, Zoe, I would split this with you, but, you know, with you heading towards your ultimate demise, it kind of seems like a waste, don't you think?

Okay.

I think we're done here.

On with the show.

Let's go of me.

Put me down.

Your destiny was written long before you decided it wasn't to your liking, Ms.

Taylor.

This is for the best.

Fuck you!

I'm gonna take my time with you.

Make sure you feel all my pain.

I've always preferred dark meat.

You're no leader.

You're a coward.

Great leaders are great because they are willing to make the tough decisions others are not.

Whether you believe me or not, this brings me no joy.

I will end your life, or anyone else's for that matter, who stands in my path of righteousness.

prepare for the sacrifice.

Let go of me.

Make sure she's secured tightly.

Bring my robe.

Enough!

Your screams won't save you, Ms.

Taylor.

For in all honesty, you need not be saved.

This is not a punishment, far from it.

This is a gift we have bestowed upon you.

Your life until this point has been insignificant.

Your contributions to the world fruitless.

This is your chance to give yourself to the Lord.

Fuck yourself.

Oh, that dirty little mouth of yours will not be missed.

Somebody, help,

please.

Where fire burns, it also cleanses.

With this torch, we expel another sinner from this world.

Let us never forget.

It is in these moments of death that we truly begin to live.

Stop!

Mother, sit down.

What are you doing?

Something that I should have done a long time ago.

Jacob released the girl.

Mrs.

Boudreaux, we have our codes.

Oh, codes?

We have codes now.

The codes of this organization are predicated on the income that its members bring in.

And seeing as how I am the wealthiest family member, I'm ordering you to let the girl go.

She can't do that!

Can she do that?

I most certainly can.

And don't interrupt me again.

Mother!

Waste of a good glass of wine.

I've bitten my tongue these past two decades while you've conducted yourself like a power-hungry deity among this family.

A false prophet with an oversized ego who answers only to himself.

A sad, overgrown child removing the legs off a fly for purely the sick amusement of it.

I value our relationship, Mrs.

Boudreaux.

I'd hate to see it end under such unfortunate circumstances.

Your empty threats don't frighten me, Jacob.

I've seen the devil in my lifetime, and you don't scare me one bit.

I'll pay two million for her life.

What?

The boy is paying you a million, isn't he?

I'll pay double that to spare the girl.

It's not about the money.

What?

The money?

All of a sudden, it's not about the money?

Is that also one of your codes?

Fine, then.

Five million.

Five million?

Is it about the money now?

We agreed on a million.

I'm not paying a cent more.

Mother, stop it!

You're embarrassing me!

It's the principle of the whole thing.

The rules state a sacrifice must be given.

Fine.

I'll offer offer up my spoiled daughter and her boyfriend over there.

Two for one, if you will.

Satisfied?

Now, wait just a minute.

You can't kill us.

We're rich.

God, in all his wisdom, surely does move in mysterious ways.

Tonight,

two sacrifices.

I know, sweetheart.

That's why I'm gonna let Mr.

Abba here do it for me.

You've been nothing but a pile of hate and nasty since the day you were born.

And the world is a better place without you in it.

oh my god

I'll do the honors for this one

baby I know that you're mad but it wasn't my fault you gotta believe me.

Stacy brainwashed me.

All these people did.

She made me do and say things I would never do.

You know me.

I love you, Zoe.

I always secretly hated the sound of your voice.

No, Zoe, don't.

No, no.

Ah, ah!

Say, Zoe, please!

No!

Ah!

Ah!

God, Jimmy!

Ah!

No!

No!

God!

Damn it!

Damn it!

Damn it!

Damn it!

How he's hoeing!

God damn it!

No!

Somebody!

God damn it!

Ow!

Get some water!

Somebody, get some water!

Fuck up!

Fuck you, you bitch!

You've been through a lot tonight, Miss Taylor.

And I'm not ashamed to say I underestimated you from the jump.

I am going to offer you a chance to join us.

I'm offering you a chance to be part of something greater than yourself.

We are the doers, the dream makers.

We can make you famous, Zoe.

More famous than you ever imagined.

What do you say?

say?

We need to leave for the Richfield signing in the next five minutes.

We'll leave as soon as each of these people in line gets their book signed.

That could take an hour.

It'll take as long as it needs to, Max.

These people came out to buy my book.

I'm not leaving them empty-handed.

With all due respect, Miss Taylor, you pay me to make sure your schedule runs as smoothly as possible.

And you do a wonderful job at it, Max.

But right now, I'm going to pull the talent card and ask you to back up from this table.

And who might you be?

I'm Mia.

Mia,

that's a very pretty name.

It matches your face.

My daughter has read every one of your books.

You're her favorite author.

Well,

that is quite the compliment coming from such a distinguished critic.

I probably won't be winning any Mother of the Year awards for letting her read your stories, but it's the only thing she's interested in.

Everyone has to find their own voice.

What was that?

Nothing.

Just something I heard a long time ago.

So, that's MIA?

When I grow up, I want to be a writer just like you.

And there's not a doubt in my mind?

You will.

Only, well, you'll be much better than me, I'm guessing.

I'll be coming to your book signing for your autograph.

Say thank you to Miss Taylor.

Thank you, Miss Taylor.

Thank you for coming.

You two enjoy the rest of your day.

Did you want me to sign your book?

Oh, I'm not here for an autograph.

I came for a quote.

I'm not sure I follow.

Miss Taylor, I'm Margot Wilson from the Gazette.

Oh,

you're the literary critic.

That's correct.

I remember seeing your picture next to the review you left me for the Black Rose Manor Murders.

What was it now?

I believe you called my book a continuous onslaught of absurd, irrelevant, and mindless narrative swers.

A deeply needless waste of paper.

Oh, your recall is quite impressive.

Well, some things are hard to forget.

It's nothing personal, I hope you know.

I just prefer to quench my literary thirst with books that aren't

scary.

I was going to say far-fetched.

I've actually reviewed many books in the horror genre with glowing critique.

Name one.

I did Cat's Cradle last month.

The Sarah Owens book about cats that sit on their owners' faces while they sleep.

Oh, a truly terrifying tale of felines and the loving caregivers they murder.

I'll take your word for it.

Can I give you a bit of advice?

Advice from critics?

What author could turn that down.

It isn't the 1980s anymore.

The world isn't scared of the boogeyman or cults or demons.

There's enough scary shit out here in the world already to keep you up at night.

True crime, unsolved mysteries.

It's what the public craves.

Find a story that makes people think twice about stepping out their front door in the morning, and you've got a hit.

We really need to be getting a move on.

Of course.

I was just speaking with Miss Wilson here from the Gazette.

Oh, the no-talent critic who left you that shitty review.

That's the one.

Pleasure to meet you.

My editor found out you were in town for the signing and thought I had nothing better to do with my Thursday afternoon than to come down and get a quote from you about the new book.

I'd hate to send you away with just a quote.

How about I do you one better?

What would you say to an exclusive sit-down interview?

Huh.

A sit-down.

Even after the review I gave you?

Any publicity for my book is a good thing.

Like you said, Margot, it's never personal.

I'm glad you can be so mature about the situation.

Without civility, we're no better than the beasts.

How about over dinner tonight?

Dinner?

I can't be expected to give a proper interview on an empty stomach.

Where were you thinking?

I'm actually hosting a dinner party at my home tonight.

An intimate affair, of course.

Just me and a few close members from my church group.

Oh, that would be lovely.

Can I bring anything?

Just your appetite.

I know they will.

What's on the menu?

Whitening.

All of my life, I'd been searching for a family.

People who believed in my voice.

I just happened to find mine in the form of a murderous cult one night on the back roads of Fayette County, Georgia.

What can I say?

You don't get to choose your family.

Sometimes

they choose you.

Deadly Beloved, written by Paul Cordick and Mike Manning.

Produced for the No Sleep Podcast by Jesse Cornet.

Starring Jordan Cobb as Zoe, Graham Rowett as Sean, George Washington III as Zoe's father, David Cummings as Jacob Adler, Nicole Doolin as Claire Boudreaux, Peter Lewis as Derek Adler, Kristen DiMakurio as Alex Winters, Erin Lillis as Frankie, Sarah Thomas as Stacey, Atticus Jackson as Waylon, Catabelle Ansari as the waitress, Mary Murphy as the little girl, Dan Zapula as the little girl's father, Reagan Tacker as the bartender, Jeff Clement as the MC, Kyle Akers as David Aiken, Alante Baraket as Brian.

Jesse Cornette as Calvin, Nicole Goodnight as the crying stranger, Lindsay Russo as the operator, Mike Delgadio as Max, Marie Westbrook as Margot Wilson, Danielle McRae as Mia, and Wafia White as Mia's mother.

This presentation was adapted for audio by Jessica McAvoy.

The musical score was composed by Brandon Boone.

The No Sleep podcast is presented by Creative Reason Media.

The musical composer is Brendan Boone.

Our production team is Phil Mikulski, Jeff Clement, and Jesse Cornette.

Our editorial team is Jessica McAvoy and Ashley McInally.

I'm your host and executive producer, David Cummings.

Please visit thenosleeppodcast.com for show notes and more details about the people who bring you this show, along with hundreds of hours of audio horror stories in our archives.

On behalf of everyone at the No Sleep Podcast, we thank you for listening and for supporting our dark tales.

This audio production is Copyright 2024 by Creative Reason Media Inc.

All rights reserved.

The copyrights for each story are held by the respective authors.

No duplication or reproduction of this audio program is permitted without the written consent of Creative Reason Media Inc.

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