13 Ghost Stories in 13 Days

The Hook

The woods were dark and haunted, but they were the only place they could get away with it. A wolf howled in the distance. Brad smiled at Justine and turned up the radio.

“This song rules,” he said.

She smiled back. They knew everything they were doing was wrong but had long ago ceased to care.

“Blues Traveler,” she said, singing along. “Absolute classic.”

The song cut out and the somber voice of a radio DJ filled the car.

“We interrupt this classic Blues Traveler song to inform you that a man with a hook for a hand has escaped from the insane asylum,” the voice said. “He was last seen headed toward the bad part of town. The man is considered very dangerous. All those out late doing things they should not be doing are advised to return home to their families at once.”

The song faded back in. Justine lowered the volume a little.

“They interrupted ‘Hook’ by Blues Traveler to tell us a man with a hook for a hand has escaped from the insane asylum,” she said. “Is that irony?”

“I never know what irony actually means,” Brad replied, wondering how he was going to explain to his wife what he and Justine were doing if the hook man hacked them up. Maybe he could blame irony. “I always confuse ironic and unfortunate situations, because of the Alanis Morissette song.”

“Ooo, I hope they play that song next,” Justine said, lighting a cigarette.

Brad and Justine lived in the same condo development and were both married to perfect people with impressive jobs and flat stomachs, who did yoga every morning and abstained from alcohol and dairy. If Brad’s wife found him stuffing his face with cheese fries in the middle of the woods, she’d march him right to the gym and make him do burpees until he passed out. If Justine’s husband knew she was chain smoking and drinking a gallon of Mountain Dew, he’d check her into rehab.

Most of all, their tragically hip spouses did not approve of Brad and Justine’s taste in music. For about a year, they’d been sneaking out every Tuesday night to eat bad food and listen to the “TGIT: Thank God It’s Tuesday ’90s Happy Hour” on KDVL Radio.

Brad unwrapped a cheeseburger and took a giant bite. He almost hiccupped and remembered to slow down. Too often he found himself having to explain a stomach ache that could not have possibly come from a plant-based diet.

“Do you think it’s a pirate?” Justine asked, with a mouthful of fried potatoes.

Brad took a sip of Diet Dr. Pepper and looked at her.

“I mean, why else would he have a hook for a hand?” Justine said.

Brad hiccupped.

“Probably our justice system failed him,” Brad said. “Hand gets chopped off in a prison yard fight, so they give him a hook. It’s a disgrace. Scientists can make hands that look like actual hands now. Give a guy a hook and you’re just marking him as a killer forever. He can’t even go bowling.”

“I bet the hook guy is actually cool once you get to know him,” Justine said. “We need criminal justice reform now.”

Brad nodded.

Another song came on. It wasn’t Alanis Morissette. Justine looked disappointed.

“If ‘Ironic’ came on, it would have been a sign that we’re supposed to be out here,” she said. “I’d feel less bad about everything.”

Brad nodded. He too had been looking for signs that they were doing the right thing.

“Maybe it’s ironic that ‘Ironic’ didn’t come on,” he said.

“No,” she said. “Just unfortunate.”

The DJ cut off the song again.

“We interrupt this totally rad ’90s block once more to give you an update on the murderer with a hook for his hand. Authorities believe he is headed for the abandoned woods. Please be on alert. I cannot stress this enough: The man has a hook for a hand and is a murderer.”

Brad lowered the volume.

“Do you think we should leave?” he asked.

Justine took a drag on her cigarette.

“No,” she said. “I mean, why would a murderer go into the abandoned woods? Wouldn’t a murder go to, like, where the people are? Didn’t we choose this spot for our clandestine feasts exactly because no one would look for us out here?”

Brad nodded. She always made good points.

They sat for a while, the only sounds were the crunch of fried potatoes and the dulcet tones of Eddie Vedder.

Suddenly, Brad’s blood froze. A scratching at the car’s back door.

“Did you hear that?” Brad asked. “Scratching. Like a hook.”

Justine waved him off.

“It’s just our subconscious guilt manifesting itself,” she said, shoveling the last cheese fry into her mouth. “We feel bad about what we’re doing, so we think we deserve to get killed by a murderer with a hook for a hand. We are our own worst enemies.”

Brad thought about it for a second.

“No surprise to me,” Brad said, “I am my own worst enemy. Now that’s a song. I’m sure you’re right.”

“If you can’t trust me,” Justine said, her mouth half full. “Who can you trust?”

The scratching sound intensified. They looked at each other uneasily.

“I’m going to go check on it,” he said. “If that hook punctures our tires and we need to call for a ride home, I don’t know how I’m going to explain to Suzanne why we were out here.”

Justine jumped forward and knocked a container of discarded Buffalo wings onto the dashboard.

“No!” she cried. “He’ll kill you with his hook!”

Brad leaned over and ran a wet wipe over the dashboard.

“You just said he didn’t exist and is simply a manifestation of our guilt,” Brad said.

“I was obviously lying so you’d let me eat the last French fry.”

“I’m going out there,” Brad said.

He slowly opened the door and stepped into the woods. Justine watched him through the window, quietly sipping her extra large Mountain Dew.

He walked carefully around the car. Some scratches, but he lived in the bad part of town. His car probably always had scratches. He heard a rustling in the woods behind him. He turned on his cell phone and shined the flashlight. A pair of glowing eyes stared back at him. He blinked and watched as a deer turned and ran off. He got back in the car.

“It was just a deer,” he said.

“Freaking rats with hooves,” Justine said, dismissively.

Brad looked out into the darkness. He still felt uneasy.

“I’m going to eat the last mozzarella stick,” he said.

“Let’s cut it in half,” Justine suggested.

Brad heard footsteps coming up behind the car. He tried to ignore it.

“I find this mozzarella stick too beautiful to see it cut in half,” he said. “Take the whole thing.”

Justine handed over the marinara sauce.

“You deserve it,” she said. “Your words have proven that you are obviously the rightful owner of the mozzarella stick.”

Brad was about to take a bite when he heard a thump on the hood of their car. They both froze.

“Did that sound like a hook?” Justine asked.

“I don’t know. What does a hook sound like?” Brad asked.

“It has harmonica,” Justine said, then she started singing the Blues Traveler song.

He blinked at her, honestly impressed she was able to crack jokes in this situation.

“Sorry, I’m just trying to lighten the mood before we die,” she said. “Rather laugh with the sinners than die with the — ”

They heard the thump again. They both jumped. A shadow passed across the windshield.

“We’re dead,” Justine said.

“Yeah, because Suzanne and Matt are gonna kill us,” Brad said.

“Hopefully the hook guy will do it first?” Justine said.

A flashlight passed over their windshield. Then a rapping on the hood of the car.

“Should I hit him with the car?”

“No!” Justine said. “We’re doing stuff they don’t like out here, but we haven’t done anything actually bad. Like we said, he’s probably just misunderstood and fell through the cracks of our broken judicial system. Turn up the radio. Maybe the DJ will play NWA again.”

A banging on the driver’s side window.

“Maybe we can rehabilitate him?” Justine said.

“I’m going to roll down the window,” Brad said.

“Tell him we support defunding the police,” Justine said.

Brad slowly rolled down the window. A flashlight blinded him. When Brad’s eyes adjusted he was staring into the youthful face of their friend Officer Pete, who also lived in their condo complex.

“Oh God, Pete,” Brad said. “You scared us. We were worried you were a murderer with a hook for a hand.”

“Honestly when you think about institutional police violence this actually might be more frightening,” Justine said, sucking up the last of her Mountain Dew.

“Good to see you too, Justine,” Officer Pete said. He shined his light in the car, saw their food wrappers littering the floor, the packs of cigarettes. He listened carefully to the song on the radio.

“Is this Counting Crows?”

They both nodded.

Officer Pete looked at them suspiciously. “Do your spouses know you’re out here?”

“Obviously not,” Justine said.

“Please don’t tell them,” Brad said.

Officer Pete tipped his cap.

“If the police in this town had to write up every weird affair we stumbled upon in these woods, we’d never catch any bad guys,” he said.

“Maybe the woods weren’t such a good place to pick,” Justine mumbled.

Officer Pete removed his hat.

“I actually just came out to give you all a warning,” Officer Pete said. “Guy with a hook for a hand escaped from the insane asylum. You should probably get out of here and break up … whatever it is this is.”

Brad nodded.

“Of course Officer Pete,” he said. “Thank you.”

“Get a new job, Pete,” Justine called out.

“Pleasure as always, Justine,” the officer said. Then he turned and left.

They sat in silence drinking more soda and listening to the sounds of the night. Every crack and crunch could have been another police officer, or a murderer with a hook for a hand, or their spouses coming to force them to exercise.

“Are we bad people?” Brad said.

“No,” Justine said. “We totally didn’t judge the hook guy. If he found us, we’d have helped him find a new hand. Probably.”

Brad stared out into darkness. They were running out of snacks.

“We should get home,” he said.

He parked the car a few blocks from their condo complex. Police lights everywhere. The street completely blocked off. They walked up to the barricade. The complex had been completely evacuated. Neighbors stood outside in pajamas, wrapped in blankets. Windows were smashed. Blood on the sidewalk. Their spouses were nowhere to be found.

“See,” Justine said. “I told you the hook guy would go to a place where there were actual people to murder.”

“I’ll never doubt you again,” Brad said.

They watched as medics wheeled a pair of stretchers past them. The bodies were covered in sheets. In the glare of the police lights, all they could see were blood-soaked athletic shoes sticking out the bottom. They looked at each other.

“Do you think it’s possible they were…” Brad started.

“No,” Justine said. “It’s a coincidence. Those are really popular sneakers.”

“And if that is them, they were probably just…” Brad said.

“Exercising. Exactly.”

“But that’s not them.”

“No,” Justine said. “They’re definitely sleeping. Even a murderer with a hook for a hand couldn’t wake up Matt the night before a 4 AM bike ride.”

Brad nodded.

Officer Pete came over and told them the man with a hook was still on the loose. No one would be allowed in the building until the cops caught him.

“But we will catch him,” Officer Pete promised.

Justine turned to Brad.

“I guess we’re just waiting for the hook to bring us back,” she said.

Brad stared at his neighbors. A child was crying.

“Nice callback to the Blues Traveler thing,” he said.

He watched the medics load the body into the back of an ambulance. For a moment they both stood frozen in the flashing lights.

“Should we go to the diner?” Justine finally said.

Brad turned away as the medic shut the door and the ambulance pulled away.

“I’m not that hungry,” he said. “But I could go for some French toast.”

“I’m getting waffles,” she said.

The only rule of 13 Ghost Stories in 13 Days is that the story must be posted the same night I started writing it.

Previously on 13 Ghost Stories in 13 Days:

2020:
Day 13 A Very Kaboom Halloween
Day 12 Save the Cat
Day 11 Vampire Weekend
Day 10 What We Drink at Brunch Besides Mimosas
Day 9 Lightbulb Moments
Day 8 Gift of the Magi 2
Day 7 The Hook
Day 6 Die School Musical
Day 5 The Viscount’s Supporter
Day 4 Eternal Necromancer
Day 3 Right Now
Day 2 Good Bones
Day 1 The Girl with the Green Mask

2016:
Day 1 The Ghost’s Girlfriend
Day 2 The Girl with the Puka Shell Necklace
Day 3 The Time I Went to the Old Church Later Than I Should Have
Day 4 Ride Scare
Day 5 Miranda, Who Appears as a Portent of Death
Day 6 A Halloween Carol
Day 7 El Mariachi de los Muertos
Day 8 Death on Demand
Day 9 The Ballad of the Cursed Mudville Maroons
Day 10 Officer Mac’s Last Day
Day 11 Chad vs. The Genie
Day 12 Luigi’s Coins
Day 13 Somewhere Beyond the C