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Halloween Haunts: Interview with Mr. Crow Recorded by T. Fox Dunham

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Dunham_WIN_20150517_104936Mr. Crow left me his usual calling card—a lump in my neck—inviting me to a follow-up interview at Doylestown Hospital. That night I lay in my hospital bed only sleeping for moments, desperate just to blank out my mind. They shot me up with dilaudid—their opiate of choice for the night—so what follows might have all just been a vivid hallucination.

Mr. Crow strolled in at 3AM. This was his time, the hour when he manifested for a short time in the guise of clientele to satiate his loneliness. His presence oozed into the room, leaking from shadow to shadow, never walking in the dim hall light of the surgical ward. The darkness defined, spreading out then sharpening at the edges. Heavy boots clunked along the floor, and the footfalls paced to the inflation and decompression of the balloon leggings that squeezed my legs to prevent blood clots.

“Knock. Knock.”

“Back again?” I asked.

“I have no face,” he said. “So I wear the visages of others.” Black wings flapped from the shadows then folded. Pain pierced my throat.

“You feeling any better?” he asked.

“I am better than I was. Tomorrow I will be better still.”

“For a time,” Mr. Crow said. “I hear you got married!”

“Never thought I would,” I said. “Of course I really wasn’t supposed to live this long. Odds. All these liability-obsessed doctors have for me are odds. It’s the safest bet for them. They can’t be sued for stating statistics.”

“It is a good thing to be married,” Crow-Man said. “I have taken many wives and husbands—for a moment. Oh. I nearly forgot. I have a gift.”

“You don’t give,” I said. “You only take.” He chuckled. Feathers puffed from his crack. They dissolved into smoke and floated into the dark. I tried to perceive his face but sank into an oil pool pouring into an oil pool. “Do you have a face?” I asked.

“I wear them in the moment of reaping. I’ve worn trillions of faces, minds, and I carry their souls and eyes in my sack. From each soul, I’ve collected a memento. I put them on my hearth in my hunting lodge.”

“Why did you stop in for a chat?”

“Because you have questions. As I should know. I spared you so you could ask them.”

“Why me?”

“Because you can articulate them well,” Crow said. I paused and considered my interrogation of the nemesis of all life. All our enemies be defeated, death will out. As I cogitated, I could only really determine one question:

“Why do you exist?”

“Of course. Yes. I have this one carved into my spirit.” I heard a glee in its voice. “Because the universe is change.”

“I don’t always want things to change. I can’t ever lose my wife. And you’re threatening to rip me away from her.”

“And how deeply could you love her if I didn’t threaten and feint?”

“I’ve read Hemingway,” I said. My throat surged in pain again. The nurse should be in soon with another injection. We’d wait a week for the pathology report. Is this a single hit or the start of lymphoma?

“But the idea went cold. You got used to it again. The fear faded. Now life is sharp again. You appreciate it because you have to fight me. Because I threaten.”

“I suppose I should be grateful,” I said.

“No need. But time to go.”

“So soon?”

“A war begins tomorrow,” Crow said. “A small one sure. Probably won’t even be noticed by CNN. But I will be needed to clean up.”

“When will I see you again?” I asked, trying to get a hint about my test results. He put his finger to his face, perhaps to his lips, keeping his secret then dispersed into the night. I wasn’t grateful now, but I would be when I saw my wife. I’d never admit that to Mr. Crow though.

TODAY’S GIVEAWAY: Halloween Haunts contributor, G.O. Clark, is offering one paperback copy of his poetry collection, Gravediggers Dance. Enter for the prize by posting in the comments section. Winners will be chosen at random and notified by e-mail. You may enter once for each giveaway, and all entrants may be considered for other giveaways if they don’t win on the day they post. You may also enter by e-mailingmembership@horror.org and putting HH CONTEST ENTRY in the header.

T. FOX DUNHAM lives in Philadelphia with his wife, Allison. He’s a lymphoma survivor, cancer patient, modern bard and historian. His first book, The Street Martyr, was published by Gutter Books. A major motion picture based on the book is being produced by Throughline Films. Destroying the Tangible Illusion of Reality or Searching for Andy Kaufman, a book about what it’s like to be dying of cancer, is being published by Perpetual Motion Machine Publishing, and Fox has a story in Stargate Books Far Horizon’s II set in the Stargate Atlantis series from MGM. Fox is an active member of the Horror Writers Association, and he’s had published hundreds of short stories and articles. His motto is wrecking civilization one story at a time. Site: www.tfoxdunham.com. Blog: http://tfoxdunham.blogspot.com/. http://www.facebook.com/tfoxdunham & Twitter: @TFoxDunham

 

 

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