Debut of the Feature Trailer for "The Strange Man"!

Big day, folks! Tomorrow marks the one-week countdown to the release of The Strange Man! Over a decade of struggle comes to a close--and a fresh beginning. To help get you pumped for February 1st, Realms has released the brand new feature trailer for The Strange Man.



Cast
Millie Walker--Meredythe Edwards
Dras Weldon--Jeff Mitchell
Rosalyn Myers--Meghan Mitchell
The Strange Man--Me, yo!

Crew
Music--Dan J. Schulte
Killer Strange Man art--Thomas Mason
Nifty Realms animated logo--Conlan Brown
Written, shot, and chopped--Me, again, Chief.

Read Bob Freeman's "The Cabin in the Woods" Free!

Real-life occult detective and horror author Bob Freeman is a friend 'round these parts. Last year he saw the publication of his occult detective novel Descendant--a "braided novel" composed of inter-connected short stories. Like most of Bob's work, Descendant takes place in his epic Liber Monstrorum magnum opus.


His publisher, Belfire Press, have posted the first story featured in Descendant--"The Cabin in the Woods"--available to read for free on their site. This is a perfect introduction into the madness that is Bob Freeman. In this story, you will meet Federal Agents and full-time spook hunters Selina Wolfe and Martin Crowe--the titular characters of Descendant. As a special treat (well, to me, anyway :p), this is also the story that introduces that most famed and ill-fated Nightstalker...Greg Mitchell! Read of his gruesome demise, get yourself hooked on this uber-cool monster mythology, then order your own copy of Descendant today. I mean, seriously people, what are you waiting for? Are you allergic to awesome or something?

Read my exclusive interview with Bob right here!

Dan J. Schulte's "Unit Revelation" Now Available

I'm forever indebted to composer Dan J. Schulte. I first heard Dan's work on the Halloween Returns to Haddonfield CD that accompanied the Halloween 25th Anniversary Convention. I listened to it on the flight home and loved it. When it came time to do my first trailer for The Coming Evil, I called Dan up and asked if he'd contribute the score. He did, and I was really pleased. He's also written a new score for the brand new trailer of The Strange Man, set to debut in a couple weeks.

Dan is now adding "writer" to his list of duties, having just released his first novel Unit Revelation straight to the Amazon Kindle. Dan's a do-it-yourself kind of guy, having produced a number of awesome CDs that I've used as background writing music. Unit Revelation is a story close to Dan's heart, I know, as we've talked about it over the years. Here's what Dan had to say about it on his site:

"This tale began in 1984 when I sat down with two friends of mine and we began to draw science fiction super heroes, villains, robots and mutants warring against each other. Unable to get the themes and characters out of my head I continued to evolve a story throughout the years inspired by the dozens of pages of art we had done. Originally produced in the early 90's as 'Revelation Club' (an ashcan comic of which I had eventually done over 70 pages of artwork) the story and art hibernated until I finally decided to transfer the story from graphic novel to manuscript in 2010. Technically 26 years in the making, the Unit Revelation novel finally makes it's debut in January 2011."

I wish Dan all the best with his story. Scroll below to see the cover art, read the synopsis, and click the handy link to order your own copy.



About the book: In 1987 Jake Dust, along with 299 other scientists and specialists, took the offer of a lifetime: a five year contract living and working on a robotically constructed, planet-sized space station called Project Escape. What began as a peaceful operation designed to preserve the human race in the event of nuclear war became a war-ravaged hell of robotic devastation, genetic mutation and technological darkness. Defeated and out of options, the last of the specialists send Jake Dust back to earth in a desperate search for help to reclaim the Project from its tyrannical leaders. When Dust returns to earth in the new millennium he finds that Project Escape is little more than an ‘urban legend’ and all evidence of its existence has been covered up. Ignored and ridiculed for his surreal claims of Project Escape’s desperate reality and history, the janitor turned war hero descends into alcoholism and defeat until Unit Revelation, a small band of extremely eclectic and unlikely heroes, arrive from Project Escape and reluctantly revitalize Dust’s cause to return to the war-torn Project and end the abominations thriving there once and for all.

Buy the book at Amazon.

Interview with Jo Beth Mitchell: Photographer

Around here, The Coming Evil is a family affair--mostly because I've been writing this since before I was married and had kids. After Realms finished designing their killer cover for The Strange Man, it fell to me to provide an author photo. Seeing as how I had only a weekend to get it, I was hard pressed to find someone with the skill and eye for detail I needed to perfectly capture my likeness. I mean, this was an important picture. If you can't trust my grinning mug, why buy my book?

I turned to my loving and supportive wife, Meghan. She's been by my side nearly every step of the way, offering encouragement, love, and--when needed--brutal honesty. The Strange Man wouldn't exist without her, so I trusted her to do the honors of taking my author photo.

Well, as it turns out, as caring, loving, and supportive as Meghan is, she's not so great behind the camera.

After that failed, I sought out our last hope.



Our daughter, Jo Beth Mitchell.

Time and again, Jo has impressed us with her picture-taking abilities, and we both knew we had found the expert we needed. Here's the picture Jo took:



Getting my advance copy of The Strange Man today, I'm proud to see my little girl's first professional photo (albeit cropped and re-sized to fit the format's needs) featured on my book. In honor of this event, Jo Beth was gracious enough to spare me a few minutes of her time for this exclusive interview!

Greg Mitchell: How old are you now, Jo?

Jo Beth Mitchell: Four.

GM: You recently started pre-school. Are you enjoying that?

JM: *nods*

GM: What's your favorite part?

JM: Uh, when we go out for recess.

GM: You’re also an aspiring writer, with your short fiction "The Princess and the Ant" and "The Mermaid" (both unpublished) under your belt. Any new ideas on the horizon?

JM: Well...hm...well...um yes.

GM: What are they?

JM: Well, I don’t have the ideas for them, but I do know which ones I want.

GM: Okay! You took a really good picture for my book. Do you like taking pictures?

JM: Yes.

GM: Jo, what are your dreams for the future?

JM: Being a princess.

GM: Do you like having me for a daddy?

JM: Of course I do! *hugs*

GM: What’s the best thing about having me for a daddy?

JM: Wrestling! *jumps up and down*

GM: One last question: If Rainbow Brite and Strawberry Shortcake had a wrestling match, who do you think would win?

JM: Rainbow Brite.

GM: I agree.

Special thanks to Jo Beth for taking the time to sit down with us. You can head over to Amazon and purchase a copy of her picture for $13.99--and get The Strange Man attached to it for FREE! How can you beat that offer!

Great Scott! I'm Writing 'Back to the Future'!

It is no secret that I love Back to the Future. Yes, the whole trilogy. Everything's a trilogy these days, but growing up, it was just this and Star Wars. It's actually because of Back to the Future's trilogy-status that inspired me to make The Coming Evil into a trilogy. I've seen the movie countless times, nearly memorized them, and even still make a point to sit down and watch all three movies uninterrupted periodically. I've studied those movies inside and out, absolutely in love with the characters, settings, and themes.

It is with great humility that I officially announce today that I will be working with Hasslein Books--publishers of the amazing and comprehensive Timeline of the Planet of the Apes and Lexicon of the Planet of the Apes--to co-write with Star Wars author Rich Handley not one, but two unofficial BTTF reference books!

Here's what Handley had to say on the announcement on the Hasslein facebook page:

"Novelist Greg Mitchell and I will be cowriting two reference books, similar to the style of the Apes books, about the Back to the Future films, cartoons and comics. Greg is an avid BTTF fan, and he suggested, back in 2009, that I some day tackle those films. Since that time, he's been invaluable in assisting me on the research end. Now that I'm finally doing it, I figured he'd make the perfect co-author. Luckily, he agreed.

I'm writing the first draft of a Back to the Future lexicon, while Greg is writing the first draft of a timeline book for that universe, after which we'll swap manuscripts and edit each other's work as a second draft. In that way, we'll share co-credit on both."

Rich has already broken ground on the lexicon while I'm finishing up a top secret project that I can't talk about yet. Then, I'll be pulling double duty, promoting The Strange Man, while dissecting the timeline of Back to the Future. I've never done a timeline before, and am thankful to have Rich guide me through the process. It's fun that I'm finally going to be putting all my useless BTTF knowledge to use!

Stay tuned here for updates on this and other projects. And remember, in the words of Doctor Emmett L. Brown:

"The future hasn't been written yet. No one's has. The future is whatever you make of it. So make it a good one."

Interviewing Edward M. Erdelac: The Coolest Man On Earth?

There are many injustices in the publishing world, one of them being that "Edward M. Erdelac" is not a name as widely known as it should be. Today I do my part to rectify this situation by introducing you to him. Ed is a horror writer on the rise, crafting tightly-plotted, character-rich, horror stories.

I first met Ed a few years ago when we were both submitting entries to the "What's the Story" contest over at the official Star Wars website. We, along with many of our fellow Star Wars nerds...erm...enthusiasts, were tasked with creating interesting and original backstories for any number of characters, planets, or starships that Lucasfilm threw our way. I hit paydirt with my Dusty Duck entry, and Ed won the contest a total of three times! Beyond that, he was hired by Lucasfilm on an official basis to write an original short story for their site (I'm still waiting for my chance. Take your time, Lucasfilm. I'll still be here.). The result was Fists of Ion, an awesome tale of a down-on-his-luck shockboxer who makes good and scores a victory for the New Republic. It was the "Rocky" of the Star Wars mythology and I realized then how gifted Ed is at telling a deftly worded tale and pulling you right into his world. As fellow Whatsthestoryists, Ed and I cheered each other on in the competition back in those days, and stayed in touch long after the "What's the Story" feature was discontinued (another injustice!), in large part due to the fact that we were both struggling writers in the horror genre with an eye towards breaking into comics and film. Today, we still cheer each other on, trading war stories from the trenches of the publishing industry.

As fate would have it, the both of us had stories published in the 3rd Edition of Coach's Midnight Diner where his story "The Blood Bay"--the dark "coming of age" tale of a boy and his blood-drinking horse--was selected as one of three Editor's Choices! "The Blood Bay" is a an Old West revenge tale with its roots in Greek mythology, of all things. Ed's story conveys so much thought, character-driven tragedy, and bloodcurdling nastiness with a light, airy prose that's addictive to read. It's this smooth style and his carefully measured but very rich imagery that earns him my respect and only mild bitterness :p Most recently I finished his novella "Red Sails". A pirate story about a vampire pirate captain and his werewolf crew, it is fun, imaginative, and surprisingly "literary" considering the premise sounds like a late night monster movie (not a bad thing). Ed's liberal use of spooky description is perfectly balanced by his knowledge of history--so much so that I wonder if he's got a time machine stored in his garage. Whether he's writing Star Wars or in our world's haunted past, he takes you there. Puts you right in the middle of the environment and makes you think he's been there himself.

Among Ed's stories are "Night of the Jikininki"--a zombie story set in Feudal Japan; "The Crawlin' Chaos Blues"--when a young blues player heads to the crossroads to make a deal with the devil, he's surprised to find something Lovecraftian instead; and his Merkabah Rider series starting with "Tales of a High Planes Drifter"--about a gunslinger mystic on the trail of monsters in the Weird West. Seriously, why are you still reading? You should be rushing to Amazon and buying all of these. Right now!

Well, for those who need more convincing, we're here to sit down with Edward M. Erdelac: The Coolest Man On Earth.



Greg Mitchell: For the poor folks at home who have yet to stumble upon your greatness, who are you and what are you about?

Edward Erdelac: I’m Edward M. Erdelac (only because my father is Edward G. Erdelac and our mail gets mixed up – "Ed" is fine). I was born in Indiana, educated in Chicago, and live in the Los Angeles area with my family. I’ve written stuff for Star Wars (on their website), I’ve produced, written and directed an indie feature film (Meaner Than Hell), and I’ve written about a dozen screenplays, two of which have won awards. Most recently in that arena I did some work on a horror movie that’s being produced called "Underground Lizard People". I’m currently the man behind the Merkabah Rider series from Damnation Books, a weird western about a gunslinging Hasidic mystic tracking his renegade teacher across the southwest of 1880, contending with demons and Lovecraftian entities along the way.

GM: So, why be an author? Dealing with my own struggles on this particular path, I periodically ask myself “Why in the world did I decide on this for my life? Am I a masochist? A glutton for misery?” What set you on the road to being a writer? What keeps you going?

EE: I ask myself the same questions, Greg. It’s a really hard road, especially when everybody around you has solid, respectable careers. At 35 I sometimes feel a bit like a man-child still punching out spooky stories when most of my friends are laying plans for their retirement. It can be quite a discouraging business, especially if you hate the word ‘business’ like I do. But, when you hold a bound copy of your work, and feel the weight of it, when you put it on your shelf, it’s a kind of notch on your gun that even the most rabid bibliophile with a Clue-sized library can’t match. It’s an extra pip on the collar or a gilded chevron on the sleeve that very few people I think have the tenacity to earn. The only thing that tops that is somebody expressing admiration for something you’ve written. That’s a whole ‘nother sensation. Like having somebody praise your kid for his or her upbringing (but secretly, I think, just a little bit better). You throw your heart against the wall a whole lot, but that last bit is worth every toss.

I’ve wanted to do this for a living since I read my first pocket book sans-pictures in about seventh grade (believe it or not, it was the novelization of Friday The 13th Part 6: Jason Lives).

GM: Hey, I've got that book sitting on my shelf, too! And it's still a shame the movie didn't include the epilogue with the return of Jason Voorhees' father :(

EE: I realized how vivid and transporting a book could be. Moreso than a film even (case in point). I’m still not quite there yet, but just three years ago, with nothing at all out there, I was ready to give up for good. Then a UK magazine called Murky Depths published a story I did called "Killer of the Dead" about a Blackfoot boy and his grandfather chasing down a gang of murderous vampires, and about the same time I got the call to do the Star Wars story. Making that first breakthrough took years and came when I was literally about to give up. Funny enough, this is the same way I met my wife, when I had resolved to stop looking for love. And my Star Wars story was published on our anniversary.

GM: I hear ya. The best stuff in life always seems to come around when we're about to throw in the towel. I am always surprised and impressed when I hear of a new story you’ve got coming out. You have the greatest “hooks” and each and every story sounds like a blast to me—which is why they’re all on my ever-expanding “to-read” list. What immediately stands out to me when I think of an “Edward M. Erdelac” story is “genre bending”. I mean, you took a Deep South blues/deal-with-the-devil story and mixed it with Lovecraft, man. That’s awesome! You have these great “mash-up” stories without going the over-mined Classic Literary Book With a Horror Twist route. Your stories are original and interesting. You have very classy “old Hollywood” sensibilities, mixed with B-movie concepts. Do you sit down and say “What two odd things can I put together today?” or is this just reflective of the way your mind works naturally?

EE: Thanks, Greg! I think I read a lot of history, and I read a lot of folklore, and my mind has sort of been conditioned to make these connections. I like reading about culture clashes and am continually amazed by the different ways humans have intermixed with and adapted to each other, from African centurions in the Roman Army to British Wild West Shows in Victorian England.

I love how freely the old pulp writers mixed genres, and I read a lot of that stuff. I watch mainly classic movies as well, so that’s probably where the old Hollywood sensibilities come from. There’s a line in Carol Reed’s The Third Man that always cracks me up where Calloway tells the Holly Martins character, “Paine lent me one of your books...I didn’t know they had snake charmers in Texas.” For better or worse, that’s the kind of writer I am, I think.

GM: As much fun as the monsters are, I’m intrigued by how you pay just as much attention to creating an authentic historical environment. A lot of your stories take place in the past. Are you a natural fan of history? How much research do you put into your stories, capturing the language and “world” of the past?

EE: Yeah I think the most modern story I’ve written is a screenplay set in 1985. I always loved learning new things, but my idea of new things has always been, funny enough, old things. History was my favorite subject. I guess I don’t relate very well to the modern world, where I think much of our lives have been made abstract. The experience of living isn’t really very concrete anymore to most people. It’s all tied up in work and paper and compound interests and 401K. A lot of stuff that at the end of the day just makes a body want to slump down on the couch and veg. People, I think, don’t experience life the same way as they used to. Look at how much time people spend watching television or reading as opposed to going out and doing the kinds of things the characters in their entertainment do.

There’s a dignity to the human experience that’s gradually being eroded by modern disconnectedness. Our virtual lives are generally more interesting than our real lives. I enjoy visiting historical places and just laying hands on old things, imagining the people who first set these things in place. My son took his senior trip to Europe and brought me back a little chip of Hadrian’s wall. I believe there’s a kind of hum to things like that. I don’t know if its psychometry or just wishful thinking. Maybe one requires the other.

I guess I’m always doing research when I’m reading history. I put a crease at the bottom of a page where some little bit of information jumps out at me. Then later (sometimes years later) when I’m writing something that deals with that subject, I can go to the shelf and thumb through my books, finding all these little memory triggers. Sometimes they’re so minute a detail it’s like “I’ll probably never use this.” But I almost always do. I think it’s the details that bring the past to life. First person accounts are the most fun to read in this regard, because you get these little nuances of speech and contemporary references that make the characters more real. Like how people in the Southwest tend to say ‘brang’ or ‘brung’ instead of ‘brought.’

When I’m creating characters in the past I also like to look at timelines of what was going on in the world during their lifetimes and consider their reactions to them. People are the sum total of their experiences after all. The best characters I think, you can imagine having had a life before you picked up their story, and sometimes even after.

GM: From "The Blood Bay", to the Merkabah Rider series, to even your film Meaner Than Hell, I see you returning time and again to the Wild (and sometimes Weird) West, as well as your fictional town of Delirium Tremens. What is it about horses and cowboys that keeps you coming back?

EE: I guess the comparative simplicity of life. As I said, modern concerns give me a headache. I admire the self-inventiveness of old westerners. There are so many stories of real people who tried all these crazy careers, and when they failed (some of them spectacularly – I mean, the kind of financial failure that would induce somebody today to take a pavement dive) in one they just pushed a little further out west and started over doing something else, maybe with a nickname or something. With the frontier you could do that, because your creditors weren’t hearty enough to pursue you to what was then the ends of the earth. Could the Lone Ranger and Tonto, if they were real, ride around doing their thing today? Nah, the Ranger would have lawyers dogging him to pay property taxes on his silver mine and Tonto would probably be getting grief from his tribe for perpetuating a Native American stereotype.

I never really cared for westerns or the old west overly until I visited Deadwood with my family on a cross country vacation in fifth or sixth grade. I had watched The Lone Ranger and the Cisco Kid reruns when I was little, but that’s about it. Then in eighth grade I got on a Dirty Harry kick that led me to The Good The Bad And The Ugly and I never quite recovered.

Delirium Tremens, AZ is my Castle Rock. I picked the name from a book on ghost towns somewhere, but it wasn’t located in Arizona. "The Blood Libel" in Merkabah Rider: Tales of a High Planes Drifter and "The Blood Bay" both take place there. The town actually started as a detailed map I drew for an RPG game I ran for a scant few months about ten or eleven years ago. Since I abandoned the game, I still had all these little plotted stories, one of which became "The Blood Bay".


GM: Let’s talk about the Rider, while we’re on the subject of the western. What a great creation—a Jewish gunslinger mystic, battling the occult in the Old West. I’m gobsmacked by the originality of that premise and am dying to read these books. First off, where did you come up with this guy?

EE: Well first off, I like the word gobsmacked, and I’m going to strive to use it more.

GM: You should! You really should!

EE: I’m a tremendous fan of Kung Fu, the 70’s show with the Shaolin master traveling across the West. I loved the alienness of that character in such a familiar setting, and watching the reaction of stock western characters to him, and the fascinating stories that came from merging peaceful eastern philosophy with the often violent mores of the old west. I think the Rider has his origins in that, as well as a comedy-western with Gene Wilder and Harrison Ford called The Frisco Kid, about a Polish rabbi trying to deliver a Torah to San Francisco with the help of this bank robber.

He also comes directly from a series of weird westerns I tried to write in my senior year of high school about a wraith-like character called The Ghost Dancer who was this murdered cavalryman brought back to life by a Native American shaman to avenge the Sand Creek Massacre. I wasn’t particularly happy with the way it turned out, so it was shelved for a lot of years. "The Dust Devils" and "Hell’s Hired Gun" are the only two Ghost Dancer stories that became Merkabah Rider installments. I was reading a book on angelology (I think it was Angels A To Z) that my wife had picked up somewhere when I came across the entry for Merkabah Rider. I couldn’t get the term out of my head, and gradually began to imagine a gunslinger character riding a fiery ethereal horse, sort of like the way Ezekial’s chariot was pictured in my old copy of The Picture Bible I had as a kid. Research into Jewish mysticism began in earnest after that, and my admiration for the Hasidic Jews in my neighborhood who walk around in all black with these cool broad brimmed hats no matter what time of the year brought the Rider into being visually as a Hasid.

GM: What’s the plan for the Rider? Three books, right? And that’s it? What about Delirium Tremens? Will we be seeing more from this town past the Rider’s tale?

EE: "Have Glyphs Will Travel", which I hope to have out in the latter half of this year will be the last collection of Rider stories which I’ll be doing in the pulp fiction novella style. Then I plan to wrap up the overall story with a full length novel, sort of like how Robert E. Howard put an amen on the Conan stories (albeit unintentionally) with "The Hour of The Dragon". I’ve written two other stories set in Delirium Tremens that haven’t found homes yet, and have an idea for another called "The Chili-Bean Joss", about a character in Delirium Tremens’ Celestial Quarter.

GM: What’s next for you? You’ve done a few short stories and novellas—are you working your way up to a novel?

EE: I’m pretty much tied up with the Rider right now, but my first full length novel is tentatively due out this March from a press in Texas. It’s called Buff Tea and it’s a straight historical western about a would-be writer from Chicago who joins the great 1870’s buffalo hunt in Texas. This is actually the first novel I ever wrote (almost ten years ago!), so I’m excited that that’s finally seeing print. I’ve written two other novels I’m shopping around. They’re both westerns as well, one weird the other straight up. I sort of abandoned a World War II era horror novel about halfway through (there’s a movie coming out next year which is exasperatingly similar) which I’ll probably get back to once the Rider goes into the sunset. I also had a novel about Billy The Kid going strong for some time which I hope to finish one of these days. Maybe I’ll do something futuristic after that.

GM: Futuristic. Now that would be weird :p Where can people find you, man!

EE: I’m the only Edward M. Erdelac on Amazon, so if you do a search for me there most everything I have out will pop up, except for The Midnight Diner #3, which has "The Blood Bay", and Murky Depths #5, which has my debut story. I ramble on about all sorts of stuff at my blog at http://emerdelac.wordpress.com/

GM: Thanks for taking the time to tolerate my fawning. If you have any powerful parting words, here’s your chance!

EE: Thanks for the invite, Greg and good luck with your own series. As for powerful parting words, write what you know you love. And be sure to drink your Ovaltine.

GM: There you go, folks. The Coolest Man on Earth endorses Ovaltine. Now go buy his stuff, already! You won't be disappointed.

"The Coming Evil: Holiday Spirit"--Part Four

Read Part Three!

And now the finale of...



PART FOUR

Dras actually went to church willingly on Sunday morning. The Christmas season made the whole church scene seem so much less threatening. He was glad to go sing a couple of carols and found even Jeff’s sermon positive and uplifting. What he remembered of it, anyway. Truth be told, he was still riding on the high of procuring the perfect Christmas gift for Rosalyn and spent most of his time in church envisioning and re-envisioning the look she’d have on her face when she opened it. Last night he’d carefully wrapped the record in leftover Scooby-Doo paper from last Christmas and stuck a big red bow on top. Now it leaned against the nightstand in his bedroom, waiting for its big moment.

Dras gazed at it again now as he shed his button-up dress shirt and reached into his dresser drawer for something more comfortable. He unfolded a shirt emblazoned with the horrific visage of Nosferatu and wiggled into it. Running his fingers through his slightly combed hair, he shot a glance at the Monster Movies calendar hanging on his wall, counting the days until Christmas.

It was way too many. He could never wait that long to give it to her.

Feeling like a kid in line at the front gates of Disney World, Dras tapped his foot rapidly and thought. He needed a way to bump up his gift-giving date. The Christmas Parade would take place downtown in a couple of weeks, and he and Rosalyn usually watched it together through her apartment window. He could give her the record then.

Still too far away.

Next Thursday “It’s a Wonderful Life” was showing at the Community Center. If Roz didn’t have to work, they could go together and he could give her the gift afterward. Or even before.

Dras questioned whether he could survive the four days between now and then without exploding from anticipation. Biting his lip, he strained to come up with a reason to give her the record sooner. Yes, it was still November, but he was far too excited to make it all the way to Christmas. Anyway, he wasn’t good at keeping secrets from her, so if he wanted her surprise to be genuine, the gift must be given sooner rather than later. Otherwise, he’d inadvertently spoil it.

Dras checked the clock on the bedroom wall and shook his head. There was no time to devise a plan now. He was supposed to go to his parents’ house with Rosalyn for the tree-trimming and—

Tree-trimming! That’s a Christmasy occasion!

Bubbling with delight, Dras threw on his jacket, grabbed the record, and ran out the door. Determined not to put this album in jeopardy of being shattered, he forewent his bike and set off for Rosalyn’s apartment sporting a strange walk-jog gait. Ignoring the curious stares of passerby, Dras journeyed forth with glee.

For once he was going to give Rosalyn the perfect Christmas present.

* * *

“Dras is so late,” Rosalyn said aloud to herself. She’d tried to call his apartment three times and got no answer, so he must be on his way. But boy, was he taking his sweet time about it. They should have been at his parents’ house by now. Just as she was about to try calling one more time, a chain of short, quick knocks beat against her front door. She opened it with a sigh.

“It’s about time. I—”

“Merry Christmas, Roz!” Dras cheered. He stood panting before the open door, thrusting a flat, square gift toward her. He was wearing the goofiest grin she’d ever seen on him, and that was saying something.

“What’s this?”

“Your Christmas present. Go ahead, open it!”

“Dras, Christmas is still, like, a month away,” she reminded him, though she couldn’t help returning his silly smile. She thought of the Christmas surprise that sat in the bottom of her closet, biding its time in a still unwrapped shoebox until the proper moment. Little goosebumps tickled her arms as she imagined Dras’ expression when he saw it.

“I know,” Dras said, “but I figured, why wait? If you don’t have anything for me yet, it’s okay.” He placed the package in her hands and moved into the apartment, then stopped short. No, he froze. The goofy grin was replaced by a slack jaw and wide, unblinking eyes. Rosalyn followed his gaze to the bare spot on the wall where the stereo had once stood.

“Yes, I got rid of it. You can nix the drama.”

“Your…stereo?” Dras croaked.

“You were right, you know? It was a dinosaur. And it took up so much space. I mean, look how much more open the room looks now.” Rosalyn chose not to mention the more emotional reason behind selling the stereo. She wasn’t ready to tell him yet that she might be leaving town for good. Besides, her goal was to be jolly this Christmas. Which would be easier if Dras wasn’t standing in her living room looking like he just watched his dog get creamed by a Cadillac.

“Dras, are you okay?”

He dropped his face into his hands. “Just open the present,” he commanded in a soft monotone.

Confused, Rosalyn ripped the paper and instantly knew Dras’ pain. There was the one album she’d pined for since the day her original copy was broken. Let it Be. Overcome with gratitude and ashamed for disappointing him, Rosalyn turned to face Dras, but his back was to her. With tears in her eyes, she whispered, “Dras, I don’t know what to say. Thank you for remembering.”

Downtrodden, Dras slowly swiveled to her. “I feel like such a chowderhead.”

Wiping her tears, Rosalyn tried to encourage him. “Dras, this is the best gift I’ve ever gotten, hands down. It doesn’t matter whether I can listen to it or not.”

“Yeah, well, I wanted to get you something special. You’re my best friend and all.” Dras shifted his weight and frowned.

As she admired the album in her hands, Rosalyn took note of its amazing condition. The cover wasn’t creased in the slightest. She slid the record out of the sleeve and ran her fingers over its surface. No scratches. It was as though it was fresh from the factory, never opened.

“Dras,” she began, then hesitated. It would be rude to ask him where he got the money to buy it. But it was an impossible find and she knew it couldn’t have been cheap. If he’d gone to any ridiculous lengths, if he was in any sort of debt and she could help…she felt like she owed him that much after the letdown she’d served him.

“How did you afford this?”

Dras shook his head, looking near tears himself. “Sold some toys.”

“Oh, Dras.”

They stood there in silence a moment, bound by heartache. Then Rosalyn remembered her gift for Dras.

“Wait a minute, Dras. I think I have something that’ll make you feel better.” She dashed into the bedroom and returned with the shoebox that held Scavenger. Beaming, she held it out to him. “Merry Christmas, Dras.”

Dras regarded her curiously and took the shoebox. He lifted the lid and his face grew pale. For a second Rosalyn inwardly congratulated herself on a job well done, but the expected yelp of joy from Dras was longer in coming than she’d expected. As a minute, then two minutes, drug by, she realized the yelp wasn’t coming at all.

Crap, did I get the wrong one?

“I’m sorry, I thought he was the one you needed.”

“He was.”

Silence.

“Was?”

Dras nodded with great effort.

Recognition washed over Rosalyn. “Dras, those toys you sold, they weren’t…?”

Dras sighed. “Yep.”

“Oh, Dras.”

Dras exhaled a long breath, then snorted, “This is like that story we had to read in English class.”

“The Gift of the Magi.”

“Yeah, that one!” A smile crawled across his lips as his eyes met Rosalyn’s. “Didn’t those people in the story feel really lucky, even though they blew Christmas?”

“Yeah,” Rosalyn grinned back. “I think they did.”

Dras set the shoebox down on the coffee table next to Rosalyn’s Beatles album.

“You know,” Rosalyn told him, “I got that down at John’s Pawn on the East Side. They might have more of them sometime.”

Dras laughed out loud. “They’ve got mine! That’s where I sold them!”

“Really? That’s where I sold my record player! I guess we could go buy them back, but I doubt we’ve got the money now.”

“I don’t care about them anymore.” Dras’ expression was warm and kind, full of the mutual love they shared but tried not to discuss out loud.

But it was Christmas, after all. Or almost Christmas. Whatever. And by next Christmas, so much could potentially change.

“No present could be better than having you around,” Rosalyn bravely emoted. She leaned forward and hugged him before landing a tiny peck on his lips. “You’re the best, Dras.”

“I am pretty proud of myself, circumstances notwithstanding.”

Rosalyn rolled her eyes and laughed. This holiday spirit stuff wasn’t so bad.

* * *

As the moon rose over the North Woods, a champagne-colored Toyota Camry pulled off the main road and rolled down a dirt path into the dark. After traveling a half mile or so, the driver put the car in park and turned off the ignition. Deep blackness surrounded the vehicle as the driver’s side door opened and an unassuming, middle-aged woman emerged, wearing a denim dress, a red cardigan, and a shabby winter coat. She switched on a flashlight with trembling hands and shut the car door.

“Sir? You wanted to see me?”

A dark figure barely separated itself from the night woods. “Hello, Sheila,” dripped a sardonic voice.

“Yes, sir?”

“How are things going at the pawn shop, dear?”

“Well, I believe.”

“You believe.” A generous smattering of derision colored his reply. “Sheila, your position at the pawn shop is very important. It is your job is to drag people down, to accept things from them and present things to them, to put a desire in their hearts for ever greater possessions, to reveal to them their dissatisfaction with their positions in life. There is dark magic at work in that little store, and it is your job to feed and oversee it.”

“Y-yes, sir.”

“Tell me, Sheila, why is it you desire to serve me?”

Sheila needed no pause for thought. “I remember the old stories. Ever since I was young, I’ve been drawn to your power.”

“My power? Yes, I am powerful.”

There was a break in the conversation. The wind blew through the dead limbs of the trees, freezing Sheila’s bare legs. The silence of her master unnerved her.

“H-have I displeased you, sir?”

The shape sighed dramatically. “Ah, I’m afraid you have, Sheila. You see, I need you to make the people of Greensboro miserable. The Christmas season is upon us! The people are caught up in the observation of ancient Christian myth and Pagan symbolism. They’re low on cash, they need bigger and better presents for the kids, they need a make-up gift to smooth over that little affair they got involved in, an expensive wow gift to guarantee they’re listed first in a dying mother’s will, they need to feed their greed. And, sadly, my spies tell me you’re producing quite the opposite effect.”

A titter arose from the blackness behind him and a thousand tiny eyes blinked back at Sheila. She wet herself.

The form continued, “The pawn shop is an excellent tool to prepare the hearts of the people for my coming, and the so-called holiday season is the perfect time to exploit it. But Sheila, poor Sheila, I’ve been told that some of your little tricks have actually brought people happiness. Made them consider the ‘true meaning’ of Christmas and other such nonsense. You’re not setting the stage for me.”

“Sir, I-I must have made a mistake. It won’t happen again—”

“No, it most certainly will not!” he hissed. “I’m done with the pawn shop. And thus, Sheila, I have no more use for you.”

“No! Please, I can serve you some other way! Please!”

“ENOUGH!” he bellowed. Then, turning aside to the chattering things in the dark, he simply commanded, “Take her.”

Sheila screamed as the skittering pieces of the night rushed at her and tore her apart.

* * *

After tree-trimming at the Weldon family home all afternoon, Dras and Rosalyn went back to her apartment for an improvised dinner of canned soup and crackers, caught a television showing of “How the Grinch Stole Christmas”, and then decided to go driving around looking for early Christmas lights. In Rosalyn’s car they cranked up “Jingle Bell Rock” and made each other laugh with silly dance moves from their waists up.

“I’m all hyped up on Christmas,” Dras gasped in between cackles. “I gotta have a candy cane milkshake from Beefy Burgers.”

“Aw, Dras, that’s all the way on the other side of town.”

“C’mon, please. I’m buying.”

“Your mom’s buying.”

“Okay, she is. But the money’s coming out of my wallet.”

Grinning and shaking her head at him, Rosalyn turned the car down Terrace, planning to cut through the East Side on a shortcut route to Beefy Burgers. At once she sat still, a puzzled expression shrouding her face. Dras took notice.

“What’s the matter, Roz?”

“Wasn’t that John’s Pawn yesterday?”

A dilapidated building stood where John’s Pawn had been less than twenty-four hours before. It was the same size and shape as the pawn shop had been, but it bore no other resemblance to the place where they’d done their Christmas trading. John’s Pawn had been run-down, but this building was completely derelict. The windows were busted and boarded, the bricks were crumbling, and the inside was dark and deserted. Rosalyn pulled up to the curb and she and Dras exited the vehicle.

Dras pressed his face to the dusty glass of the front door. No local honey or creepy porcelain dolls. A few empty shelves stood inside, bearing no wares. An old cash register lay overturned on the floor, which was littered with little pieces of paper, empty plastic soda bottles, and shards of glass. The pawn shop, in effect, had disappeared.

“What happened?”

“Maybe they were robbed,” Rosalyn suggested.

“Those are some thorough robbers.”

“This is freaking me out,” Rosalyn grabbed his arm. “Let’s get out of here.”

Dras willingly obliged and they were soon on the road again, headed to Beefy Burgers with considerably less enthusiasm.

“It was there, right?” Rosalyn asked. “I mean, we can’t both be going crazy.”

“It was there,” Dras agreed, bewildered.

Greensboro. Sometimes, this is one strange little town.

Copyright 2010 Greg Mitchell

Thank you to Meghan Mitchell for writing such an awesome little tale, and thank you to everyone for reading :) Keep your eyes peeled to this site for more goodies as we near the February release date of The Coming Evil, Book One: The Strange Man.

Merry Christmas!