The following podcast is a work of fiction. All characters are the creation of Peter Williams. Any resemblance to someone living or dead is purely coincidental. Thank you. Well, well, well, it's been a while, hasn't it? Yes, it is I, your old friend, Lord Piotra. I bet you were beginning to think I wasn't going to complete the story. But I am, and I've been planning this for a long time. As we will tell our last story. And of course, it involves our old friend, Warren Stevens. But before we do, we must start in a new place, a new town, and meet a new friend. Of course, I do need to remind you that this podcast may contain images of graphic violence, child endangerment, naughty salty language, and possible adult situations, and may not be suitable for children under 13. Now. Now we return to our Tentacle Tuesday routine and meet the lonely young man wandering through the night. As we start, Detective Warren Stevens, and at last, a good night. We're chapter one. Zach Taylor stepped out into the darkness, escaping through his bedroom window and into the cool autumn night. He couldn't take this uneasy feeling and really needed some fresh air. Fresh air, he thought. What was the last time he actually spent any time outside of his bedroom? Above him, the sky was lit with a vast array of stars shining down in the old ridge wood that ran between him and his home. Beyond that, slightly west, stood the hamlet of West Hollow, a few dozen buildings spotted along Rock Creek Road, obviously named because the creek ran side by side it. They even had an old covered bridge at its end, and kids would play Ichabot Crane and reenact the Headless Horseman and throw a jack-o'-lantern across it. That thought frightened his heart a little. He couldn't remember the last time he had smiled or cared about anything. He winded his way to the top of Cedar Point Hill, a place where lovers would meet to watch the sunrise and stood back looking down towards the hamlet. Except for a few street lights, everything below was dark. Not even a car headed home from a long night. Like him, it seemed empty. He was just about to turn back and head home when he caught a light coming on on North Street. Odd, he thought. Any chance that he might accidentally catch a glimpse of the shell changing was always worth the extra half a mile up North Street. Unfortunately, the window was dark and her curtains closed, so no such luck. He did get lucky once, but only caught her bare back as she must have crossed the room. Take a square he also caught a slight knowing smile, but. Anyway, enough of those thoughts. At least for now. Feeling slightly windy, Vine stood at the corner of North and Carmichael and made the left. This would take him past the abandoned apple farm, and son of a gun, the old apple bin bakery had been bought, as well as the quaint little cottage-style house that sat on the edge of North and its dilapidated barn. At first he felt like a predator, creeping, drawn to the lone-lit window like a moth. What would he see? Who would he see? Knowing his luck, probably some shriveled-up old man and boxers making breakfast. Finding a better vantage point, he did finally spy someone moving around. She was tall, jet black hair, and had a very light complexion. She was dressed, but in an odd manner. A high white frilly collar. The dress itself looked like something out of green gables, puffy shoulders, and tight around the waist to give shape and form to the woman wearing it. As he watched, he couldn't help but find himself drawn to the little cottage. The fresh smell of apple cinnamon permeated the air, igniting his desire to what? Eat? Drink? Whatever, as long as he could try whatever it was. He didn't even realize he had walked away from his hiding spot and was now standing in the middle of the road, staring at the wooden house and the wraparound porch. When he did realize, his flight response began to kick in, but too late. The front door opened, and in it the lighted frame of the very silhouette of the woman he had been gawking at. And who is this young visitor in the middle of the night? The woman asked, her voice not annoyed, perhaps amused, as if she had been expecting him. Um I'm sorry, ma'am, he replied, stammering nervously. He'd been caught peeping. Um, Zack, Zack Taylor. I see, she replied. Well, Zack, instead of peeping from bar, why don't you come in and have some tea? It's obvious you have a lot on your mind. Zack looked at her in disbelief as she stepped aside and motioned for him to enter, and without thought or hesitation, he stepped through the wood door frame into the dimly lit room. And what a room! A single hurricane lamp set on a small round table. Three of the four walls were bookshelves, and besides a dying fire, a wooden rocker and a beat-up high-backed chair. Please sit, she said, and pointed towards a dusty pink chair. Let me add a log to the fire, and then I'll fetch you some tea. Does that sound good? He nodded dutifully. His eyes always focused on her nearly porcelain face. Yes, ma'am, he replied, and she gave him a delighted smile and said, Cassandra, you could call me Cassandra. Okay, ma'am, I mean Cassandra. She tossed a log onto the cinders, and Zack watched as it began to smolder. A grey green smoke enveloping the log until bursting into flames. There, that's better. Now let me get some tea. A few minutes passed and she re-emerged with a silver tray, a silver pot, and a plate of oatmeal raisin cookies. Because anyone who knows anything knows that oatmeal cookies go delightfully well with big lavender tea. That smells amazing. And again, Cassandra smiles. Help yourself. She pours him a cup, a puff of steam, forming a ring as it rises to the ceiling. Taking a sip, he can feel it encompass his stomach with a feeling of utter delight. Wow. It pleases me that you like these, Cassandra says and leans back in the rocker with her own cup. Now tell me, Zack Taylor, what has you wandering through the night peeping through an old lady's window? Zack blushes. Yep, he'd been caught, but there was no condemnation, no anger, just a simple statement of fact. And please, no lame apologies. I was once a teenager a long time ago, and I know how hot a young boy's blood can boil. Again he blushes as he begins his tale. It's it's my father and stepmother, he begins. You don't approve of her? He shakes his head no, and adds, but it's more than that. How so? My mom died about a year ago in a car accident. Go on. Well, he only met her seven months ago, and they're already married. I see. And Cassandra? Yes. My dad's become different, like he's someone new, or if he's been replaced. Do you think this is perhaps just because you're angry that he met and married someone new so quickly? Maybe. And what do you think you should do? I don't know. I feel lost, alone, forgotten. I spend most of my time playing video games. I see. There is one positive, Zack finally says, excited. Oh, pray tell. I met this girl in the cold. She's a gamer like me. She sent me a picture. He fumbles and pulls out his smartphone. A girl with raven-colored hair and deep black eyes is looking awkward and giving him a B for victory sign. She's cute, and I dig the goth look. Yes, she's very cute. Just be careful. You don't really know if she's real or just some fat pervert trying to get you to do something stupid, like walk into a house and have tea with a strange woman. Zack laughs, and Cassandra joins him. Yeah, that is kind of dumb, he replies, and then adds, You know, I invited her over tomorrow. It's my fourteenth birthday, and I thought she might like to hang out and play video games. Oh, it's your birthday tomorrow. Yes, ma'am, I mean Cassandra. That's wonderful. Hmm, let me see. She gets up and starts looking at all her leather bound books, some of which look downright ancient. Ah, here it is. What? She shakes her head and wraps it in a grey paper and ties it with a heavy string. Uh uh. It's a birthday present. You can't open it until it's officially your birthday. Oh, okay. Wow, thanks. He gives Cassandra a hug. She goes stiff at first and then relaxes, patting him gently on his head. There, there. Happy birthday now. Go home and I'm sure things will change quickly for you. Zach smiles, although for the first time he feels there's something off about Cassandra. She was icy cold to the touch. No wonder she has a fire going. She escorts him to the door and shows him out. The sky was beginning to brighten in the east, and he figured it would be best to jog home. Even if he had a chance, Oogle Michelle, he didn't have the time to stop and stare. And he had already been caught once tonight. He better not press his luck. Especially since school was only a few hours off, and once again, he'd be going without sleep. Zach's head hurt and hurt badly the next morning. A headache is no excuse to miss school. Get your ass out of bed and get moving, she said. It also didn't help that she didn't make him breakfast. Do you know if Dad will be home tonight? Probably not, she says and takes a long drag on a cigarette. There's nothing like marrying someone and then having them leave you caring for the brats. She turned her back on him, dropping some coins in the dirt. I hope that's enough for lunch. It wasn't. It never was. Now, he was sitting here in class where every tick of the wall clock felt like an anvil hitting his head. He did his best to pay attention and not to puke all over the kid in front of him. Shortly after the overly loud class bell, the teacher claps his hands together and motions to the open door of the class. Class, class, Mr. Howard called. All eyes up front! Everyone sat up face forward as a pretty young lady entered the room. She seemed tall for 14, but the air of confidence she gave off brought all eyes to her, and her eyes, they were pools of bright blue. Class! This young lady will be joining us this semester. She just moved into town, and her and her father will run the new coffee house near Bridge Street. Alex, why don't you introduce yourself? Alex steps in, gives a curt smile and a wave before saying, Hi, I'm Alexandra Stevens. Okay, Miss Stevens, why don't you take a seat by? He looks around the room. An empty desk sits near the window, a row away from Zack. Wow, he thought, and he wasn't alone. Every boy was staring. Besides the presence of this new girl, school was a slog. Zack couldn't count the number of times he dozed off. He even began to dream of Nicole. Happy birthday, Zack, she'd whisper as she stuggled up next to him in bed. I brought you a present, and it's not cake. You didn't have to do that, he began to object, but she looks so good, so seductive. He wakes up yelling, embarrassing himself as he calls out, Wait! I barely know you! The class turns to him, laughing as he's standing straight up at his desk. Sorry, he says, and sits back down quickly. No, no, Mr. Tyler. It's fine, the teacher scoffs. Why don't you get to know us better so we can continue? Again, the class erupts in laughter, all except Alex, who seems more focused on her book than the silliness. Fortunately, the bell rings and everyone quickly forgets as they make haste towards the classroom door. He also grabs his books and begins to head out. Hold up, Mr. Tyler. Yes, sir. I know things have been difficult at home this last year, but that doesn't excuse you dozing off in my class. You have detention over the next two days. But sir, tomorrow's my birthday, and I have a friend coming over. Mr. Howard gives him a look and Zack's shoulders slump forward. Alex, who hasn't left yet, overhears the conversation and interrupts. Mr. Howard, please give him a break. I mean, it's not like you turn 14 every day. Fine. As long as you get your homework done and pay attention, I'll allow it. But I will see you today. Understood? Zack turns to Alex and thanks her profusely. Thank you. I really appreciate it, he says. Alex laughs a little and says, consider it an early birthday present. Zack smiles, and she hands him a business card. As a matter of fact, my dad will honor this card for a free drink of your choice. Oh! Awesome! He exclaims. Alex smiles, waves, and heads out while he returns to his desk another two hours with Mr. Howard. Joy. But it wasn't a total loss. He had no choice but to do his homework and he made another friend. At least he hopes so. Alexander Stevens. Who the heck is that? Zach. Don't you know that it's not a good idea to accept tea and cookies from strangers. But unless I'm just your host, no one listens to my advice. As next week, we'll turn the page in holy heavens a light shed upon these things. As we already started in chapter two. A visitor.