Lunatics Library 6 - Reincarnation Stories

This episode features two reincarnation themed short stories. The first was written by Spooky Bambina (follow on IG) also listen to Itchy Dress Sunday on Spotify or your favorite streaming app. The second story is written by Anastasia Garcia. Anastasia Garcia is a Mexican-American writer of horror and speculative fiction. Anastasia’s recent short story is featured in Corvid Queen, a journal of feminist fairy tales, folklore, & myths. Anastasia’s writing will appear in an upcoming issue of the Nottingham Horror Collective. In 2020, Anastasia was named a recipient of the Ladies of Horror Fiction writer’s grant. Originally from Texas, Anastasia now works at Instagram and lives in New York City with her partner and her cats. Follow her writing journey on Instagram @anastasiawrites or at anastasiawrites.com.

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Check out Abby's book Horror Stories. Available in eBook and paperback.

Music by Michaela Papa, Alan Kudan & Jordan Moser. Poster Art by Pilar Keprta @pilar.kep.

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Transcript

Speaker 1: 0:17

Hello, and welcome to another episode of lunatics library, the episodes where we bring you short fiction around some of our favorite horror themes. I'm Abby Brinker. I'm here with Alan Sudan. Hello. And today we have reincarnation stories for you. I'm really excited because we have two authors that are new to the podcast that we're featuring. Really? Yes, that's cool. Very cool. So these are not public domain stories. No, they're not public domain stories. These were stories that are written by modern awesome authors and writers. And we have the pleasure of featuring them on today's episode. Are they spooky? Oh, they're spooky. Big time. That's pretty good. Yeah. One is. I won't give anything away, but I'm excited.

Speaker 2: 1:03

They are about reincarnation.

Speaker 1: 1:05

They are about reincarnation. Yes. So that's a spoiler. That's a spoiler, but Hey, you clicked on the link. You knew what to expect, right? Maybe

Speaker 2: 1:12

Sometimes it just click. Well, I'm excited.

Speaker 1: 1:15

I'm excited to, shall we, should we jump right into,

Speaker 2: 1:17

Just go, right, right in. I mean, the only

Speaker 1: 1:19

Thing I guess I'll say is, if you are curious about the history of reincarnation, you can, if you have not yet listened to our two-part series on that, I would, I would also encourage you to do so, because it might give you some context to the stories that are going to be read today, but no, no preface, no prerequisites for this.

Speaker 2: 1:38

Yeah. So the first part is like a deep dive into the historical, uh, references to reincarnation. It's a very, very boring. And then the second one is all modern accounts and not even not modern in the last 200 years, actual, uh, recorded instances of reincarnation. That's slightly less

Speaker 1: 2:02

Boring. Oh, come on. I thought that one was one of my favorite episodes that we've done. That was pretty cool. Yeah. I had fun with that. Yeah. All right, here we go. All right. Right. A square mirror. One of many within the exotic jewelry store revealed a Maya's reflection cloud with green and yellow feathers at her ear lobe and Maya picked up the earring package after the brilliant hues struck her vision. Indeed, the feathers stood out against her gingham colored blouse, white pants and blue flats inciting a battle of tropical versus nautical. What do you think? Huh? Lovely pair. A retail associate asked to Maya in response. She jerked up not realizing she was lost in a gaze striking. I'll be purchasing them. She answered while fishing for her credit card. Uh, Maya did what she could to ensure this fabulous life for herself. So for her, there was no guilt in splurging. She presented it to the cashier with a cordial smile. Thank you for shopping with us. Have a nice day. The cashier said, as she handed her a clean white gift bag on the walk to her car, uh, Maya felt the sense of unease. She had just eaten a healthy meal of fresh crab salad. So how mysterious it was that she felt nauseous in her stomach. Did the cafe chef sneeze in her food. Impossible. She figured they made the salad right in front of her. She tossed the bag in the front seat of her GT class convertible then discarded her sneezing into herself theory. As she drove home to get ready for the singles ball, uh, Maya stripped off her shopping clothes and traded them for a sleek black knee-length number. She'd been wanting to put to good use elbow length gloves came next. Then the earrings, the tropical feather earrings that were saved for last, as she stared at her outfit, look out singles ball, uh, Maya muttered, while tracing the silhouette of her curves. Mama's going to have a brand new man. The country clubs swarmed with guesses and Maya made her way into the entrance. She'd feared that the other patrons of the club would behave like they typically did. But none of that was there. Instead. Their attention was on a Maya, her slinky form fitting dress in the feather earrings. A middle aged man approached her smoking a cigar. My, my miss don't you look ravishing this evening, the man drawled eyeing a Maya up and down mind if I buy you a drink, confused. She replied why certainly a man like this married, but still chasing the tales of younger women would have never looked her way before a Maya black and in her late forties knew better than to have her time wasted by these types. But when one of them offered her a free drink for the first time, she wondered how she could turn that down at the bar. The cigar man, couldn't keep his eyes off of her. Okay, Sarah, what does it really? Why am I up here with you right now? When I could be flirting with men who aren't in denial, I just think you're especially beautiful. So I treated you to a drink and those earrings, he stretched his neck to look closer, but I, Maya turned away. The earrings turned with her. What about them? They're rare. There's your answer? They must've cost a pretty. Penny might even look better against my nightstand. He slurred. Am I a grew sour? Like the lemon zest in her drink, I'm leaving in one simultaneous move. She dumped her drink onto the man's head and dumped his cigar into his whiskey. Many men and women traded dance moves and drank wine while watching others. Am I a port glass and took a seat to scan her surroundings, a tall and bearded suit caught her eye. And in a moment of baldness, she stood up to say hi, all alone tonight. The bearded man, crooned plastic wine glass in hand. Hi. I see you're a jokester. She laughed. You seem like a well-traveled fella. What's the most recent place you've been to Antigua my home country. Antigua. Interesting. I hope that was in your attempt at rhyming. The beard joked, because if that was it, you've got a lot of learning and traveling to do rhyming. Just look at my skin color. The laughter died down. When of my eyes, ears picked up a squawk. What? The, the beard gave her a quizzical look. What's the matter. It was quite funny. Don't you think? Yeah, no. Uh, what's your name? Garrett. Call me Gary. Uh, Maya. No, Gary. You are a very funny man. She trailed off before starting up again. I just heard this strange squawking noise. Gary looked around for anything that could have resembled a bird. I detect no bird activity in here. He shrugged, but those earrings are peculiarly fetching. Thank you. Ah, it's probably my imagination. Am I said any who have I seen you ranch here before in this country club? Nah, never found it worth the investment to be harassed by old white folk constantly. But seeing you here, he winked. Now I might just reconsider free food all the time. Am I offered with a giggle? The strange squawking started again and she put a finger to her ear. Sorry, my ears just itching. It's itching. Not to worry. Gary finished the last of his wine and wrote something on a nearby napkin. Here's my number. Let's stay in touch. I'll be awaiting your call. Great. I will be calling you soon. Garrett. She smirked. This was her first successful singles night in years. Am I set the napkin with Gary's phone number on her desk? As she prepared to remove her earrings, the squawking returned. All right, whatever bird noises says, I command you to cut the crap. The squawking noise ceased upon the last syllable. She placed the earrings on her dresser and got ready for bed. The strange feeling laid dormant in her body to allow her a fun night out, but she wasn't off the hook just yet. Am I took a moist towelette to her face. One wipe revealed mascara marks brown foundation and a streak of red. A second wipe revealed another layer of makeup and the squawking. Again, it started so faint, but grew louder. She realized that there was no squawking birds at the country club or within a five mile radius. A bird like apparition manifested into a green and yellow parrot floating in her mirrors, reflection, squawk surprise, squawk, a Carolina parakeet long extinct. Since the late 1910s flew towards her and pecked at her ears, eyes and face. Uh, Maya shielded herself with her arms as it kept attacking her stop. She screeched bolting for another room to hide in the parrot tailed behind her. After spending a brief introspective moment with her feather earrings. This is revenge for killing the last of my species. You insolent humans, squawk what? I wasn't even alive when y'all were put the onus on the ones who ain't here anymore. The parakeet didn't care. It waited decades for this glorious moment. My family, my livelihood, and you credence took all of that away from me now. Die. Stop it please. I swear to God. I had no idea they were yours. Just please stop pecking me. Leave me alone. Am I a sobbed? She covered her swelling face with her hands. As she lay on the floor and near defeat, the unnamed parakeet paused its havoc very well. It said whatever this bird spoke, it felt like its voice was being transmitted through an invisible loudspeaker. Am I understood nothing occurring before her. How had this developed from a pair of earrings? It is because of all you humans with your excess hunting, your poaching, your need for fancy clothes. All I wanted was to spend one last moment with my family. I couldn't even have that moment. Now. A century later, you use my remains for your jewelry. It is now I must exact my revenge only right? Since you eliminated us, the parakeet opened its beak to emit its previous eardrum piercing bird screams, wait, uh, Maya rose from the floor preparing to make a bargain. Follow me. If I offer these she's shown her desk light on her feather earrings. Will it be enough to appease? Y'all it will never be enough, but I will accept them for now. A Maya removed to the earring hooks with a gentle but firm pole to maintain the feathers formation, leave them there. The Carolina parakeet de materialized a Maya sank back to the floor, crying after the ordeal with an extinct bird, she mustered the energy to pull herself into her down feathered bed only its softness could offer her solace in this moment. The next morning the feathers were gone as if they were never there. Am I a longed for the feeling they gave her upon wearing them, but knew it would never be right. Again. She took a lighter to the earring hooks that housed those very feathers and watched her sinking feeling dissipate, a tall, heavy drink in a phone call were an order. The napkin with Gary's phone number had bird poop above the digits, a half-hearted autograph from Eastern America's only native[inaudible].

Speaker 3: 10:33

I

Speaker 2: 10:34

Was not expecting reincarnated birds,

Speaker 1: 10:36

A reincarnated bird story. How fun? A twist. A twist. Right? Okay. Very welcome. One as well. Yeah. So that was written by spooky Bambino, who is a long time friend of lunar Tech's project. Cool. And she's featured in some of the lunatics magazines. That's where I know the name. Yes she has. She's a wonderful writer, as you all know now, but she is also a wonderful musician. Oh, so yes, she has a debut single right now called itchy dress Sunday, which is out on Spotify and all music streaming services. Yeah. And it's really good. It's like punk and hardcore. It's just my, just my type of music. Cool. Yeah. So follow a spooky man Bina on Instagram of course, but also follow, follow her on Spotify and listen to the song because it's really fun. And I can't wait to hear more music from her. Cool. Yeah. So thank you so much spooky for your, uh, ongoing contributions to this project.

Speaker 2: 11:32

Fire spooky. I feel like it should be like the full name of spooky Bambino.

Speaker 1: 11:36

Yeah. That's a good question. I just, if

Speaker 2: 11:38

My name was[inaudible] and I would just settle for nothing less than the entire thing.

Speaker 1: 11:42

Yeah. So thank you. Spooky man. Bina. We love you very much. And now we have another awesome story to share. Okay.[inaudible]

Speaker 3: 11:58

Sand written by Anastasio Garcia read by Alan Kodak,

Speaker 2: 12:05

1907, the island of Martinique, a final set of magical words, dripped from Stephanie's lips. As the world wrinkles, allowing an entity to pass through the black shadow shifts and hisses through the thick undergrowth leaves titter and its wake in the jungle, leans and sways with a swirling force. The wind is hot and sticky. Kicking up the salt air and smell of dead things. Washed ashore. The girl watches with wide dark eyes clutching the lantern with a shaking hand, her breathing fast and shallow. She drops a tin pail wreaking of pigs, blood near her feet speckling her ruffled white dress with spots of red, just as the shadow takes a human shape. Layer builds upon layer, starting with the spindly white bones clattering together like empty shells, soon dripping red and meaty flesh. All the pink Oregons and jiggly parts are zipped up in a thick black skin. The limbs are long and thick muscles shine against slick arms and thighs the form. Neither man, nor woman. It croaks a moan through an incomplete throat. As the eyes appear wide in lidless rolling and ecstasy Papa leg, bla LA Diablo.[inaudible] the devil. It has been called many things, but now it is no longer a cautionary tale. It is reborn and flesh and bone

Speaker 4: 13:29

Who summons me.

Speaker 2: 13:31

It hisses, crouched like a hungry spider with both hands and feet buried in the sand. Stephanie knew to speak to the devil is to sell your soul. All the island people knew this even before the French colonizers step their boots on the sands, bringing a hoard of heart and men, their chains and their preaching of hell fire. The people of Martinique had known for centuries to be afraid of something sly and slithering in the Tropic underbrush. The mysterious being that whispered words and wishes on the wind feeding on sorrow hate in greed. But what if you wished for something they couldn't take away now gold or fish or sugarcane? What if you wished for a new life? So was the wish of Stephanie, an island girl who shirks her washing duty in seek solace in the Shoals and smell of seawater. He or she watches the ships in the Harbor. She spies the dirty men in their curious clothes disembark across the plank dock. They walk in they're swaying way with legs, not used to solid ground, seeking a warm woman to share their bed. Stephanie craved more than that. A place entirely different from this so many nights, she dreamed of finding passage on a ship late in with spices, sugarcane in dried meat to a new Harbor. One where she could strut like these men strangers with a past, they carved themselves. She let her dreaming become wishing, become wanting, become envy. A pit opened in her stomach that sucked all happiness. And eventually her yearning spoke to something in the dark. This time, the darkness replied, whispering instructions that Stephanie heated with zeal, her only friend begged her not to pour Lucia with her thick braids in her soft sensibilities. She thought nothing more than of washing trinkets and counting chickens. Stephanie sneered, her minded smile, her willingness to be trapped in domesticity for the rest of her life. Lucia followed Stephanie into the jungle thicket only once, but abandoned Stephanie. When she caught a whisper of a disembodied voice in the brush, Stephanie as a child, no longer staring back at the thing she created with blood and sand it squats low among the ferns with eyes, glittering gold, studying the bones of dead birds crunching between its toes sniffing the splash of pigs blood cast over the soil and the bite of island spices mixed in among sand it's white teeth flashes sharp smile between dark parting lips asking,

Speaker 4: 16:12

Do you wish to know your future?

Speaker 2: 16:14

Stephanie says not a word, but the pit in her stomach, widens aching, the creature leans towards her in breathed out a prophecy.

Speaker 4: 16:23

You will leave this place, shed a skin and grow a new one. This time thick and strong. You will change faces, learn different tongues and carve a new life from this opportunity.

Speaker 2: 16:42

Stephanie knew to be wary of its silver tipped words, but she pondered them all the same. Rolling them around in her head until they were soft, like ocean, ground pebbles, her black eyes glitter with possibilities. So close. She could taste the freedom on her tongue like fresh berries. It lasts like likely yelping of a dog.

Speaker 4: 17:03

But as you rise, so will others to pull you back down.

Speaker 2: 17:08

It studies the girl eyes shining in the darkness.

Speaker 4: 17:12

This does not frighten you. You would do it all the same.

Speaker 2: 17:18

It is do from the ground. Stephanie says expectantly, her eyes narrow

Speaker 4: 17:22

That you did. And for that, I grant one wish

Speaker 2: 17:28

I want this future. You speak of Stephanie stands, taller her hands and fists at her side, the aching pit yawns wider.

Speaker 4: 17:37

All I give is a chance. You make you a fortune from here. The

Speaker 2: 17:43

Creature rose from the blood and sand standing at full height saying over its shoulder,

Speaker 4: 17:49

You know where your journey begins

Speaker 2: 17:53

With those final words, it disappears slinking through the tropical underbrush and ongoing through the sugarcane fields, seeking to prey on sadness, death, and disease. As soon as the deal is done, Stephanie dashes through the thicket of trees, thorny brushed tears at her legs, but she will not stop. She barrels towards the new life. Pass the path to her familiar Cove past the river where she did her washing down the well-trodden dirt road to the docks there. She sees a solitary ship visible in the midst of an evening sea as if conjured from the dark waiting for its final passenger.

Speaker 1: 18:37

That was lovely. Not only did I really love the story, that honest[inaudible], which we'll talk about, but your demon voice was very good. Thank you. I really enjoyed it. That's a

Speaker 2: 18:48

Lot of practice from doing all the stupid titles.

Speaker 1: 18:51

So I want to tell you all a little bit more about Ana Stasia Garcia. She is a new friend of the pod.

Speaker 2: 18:57

I would love to know more. She's an incredible writer.

Speaker 1: 18:59

Yeah. So on associate Garcia is a Mexican American writer of horror and speculative fiction. Her recent short story is featured on Corvid queen a journal of feminist fairytales and folklore and myths. Her writing will appear in an upcoming issue of the Nottingham horror collective. And in 2020, she was named a recipient of the ladies of horror fiction writers grant originally from Texas on associate now works at Instagram and lives in New York city with her partner and her cats. And we will all go and follow her at Ana Stasia rights on Instagram, which I will link below. And you can also go to her website for more information, which is honest, Acia rights.com. And we love her work and we're super honored to share it. So

Speaker 2: 19:40

Descriptive. Yes.

Speaker 1: 19:42

Yeah. Like in the, yeah, the wording was beautiful. The description is beautiful. The, the language she used to put us into the scene was, but in like what

Speaker 2: 19:52

A simple story, technically it's a woman goes into the woods, guy pops out after a ritual

Speaker 1: 19:59

Genderless, genderless demon guys

Speaker 2: 20:02

In like, Hey, you guys come here and then she walks away. That's the whole action of the story yet. What, what a ride the whole

Speaker 1: 20:11

Time. Lots of depth and richness to it

Speaker 2: 20:14

Is absolutely beautiful. I was, I was seeing the film in my head.

Speaker 1: 20:17

Yeah. Yeah. I agree. And also spooky bambinos story, which maybe was more comedic than, than, uh, uh, terrifying, but really descriptive as well. Really. I don't know. I just love both of these writers and I'm super honored to be able to feature them on this episode.

Speaker 2: 20:34

I'm a big fan of haunted animals. Oh yeah. Yeah. But like just in general. Yes. Like, you know, I, I feel like there's like a, that's more of like a, just getting into like humanities roots where, you know, all spirits manifested themselves to you as animals, you know? Um, you just, you don't see that very much in modern horror anymore. You might see like the spooky dog, you know, like that stands at the end of the block,

Speaker 1: 21:05

Right. Like the grim or whatever, and Harry Potter,

Speaker 2: 21:08

Uh sure. Um, you know, what's the Mo I was thinking more like the omen, you know, Damien's hounds and whatnot. Sure. But you know, he just haunted bird. Yeah. Like think about, or like, you know, you have, you have black Phillip, the curse goat from the, which, you know yeah. You just think of how fricking terrifying, like a demonic bird is

Speaker 1: 21:34

Terrifying and being specked and squawked at, in your own home

Speaker 2: 21:38

Squawking alone. Yeah. No sanity.

Speaker 1: 21:43

Yeah. Both of these were super fresh reincarnation stories. So we will of course leave the information for, for on associate Garcia and first hooky Bambino and the description of the show. So please go follow and support them as well.

Speaker 2: 21:58

And I, I really hope that they give us more stuff cause this is, this is awesome.

Speaker 1: 22:03

I hope so too. This was really great. So thank you special. Thank you to our writers for today's episode, but thank you all so much for listening. We had so much fun putting this reincarnation series together. We have a really fun and lighthearted episode coming next week for you. And until then, thanks so much for listening.

Speaker 3: 22:22

Bye[inaudible].