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The sun shone through the thicket of the Screaming Forest, rising above the dilapidated Butcher House. All was quiet except for the sounds of skinwalkers shuffling through the woods.
“Goooooooooood morning, Mounders!” Hackle called through the house, waking its inhabitants.
Sematary groaned and rolled over, accidentally falling off his bed, which had Bambi-patterned sheets, with a thud. Ghost Mountain rose from his coffin, uncrossing his arms. Buckshot awoke from his fent-induced coma. There was a thudding sound as they all made their way down the stairs, Buck’s foot nearly falling through a rotted step, which earned a snicker from Tary.
Hackle stood in the kitchen, frying up breakfast on their scorched stove (Sematary popped too many oxys and tried to heat up his vape so he would breathe fire when he hit it). They all sat down at the wooden dining table that was covered in scorch marks from cigarettes and purple stains from lean, Hackle going around and filling their plates with bacon and sunny-side up eggs and pouring lean in their double cups. Ghost Mountain took a sip from his cup and shrugged as if to ask Hdoe what they were doing today. To others, this would be a vague gesture, but due to the Mound telepathy they shared everyone in the room could communicate with Ghost nonverbally.
“Guess what?” Hackle said happily.
“Chicken butt?” Buckshot replied.
Ghost backhanded him for his transgression, then returned to sipping his lean nonchalantly.
“We’re going on a road trip, gang!” Hdoe said.
Sematary jumped for joy at this, Buck slightly smiling despite the red mark blooming on his face, while Ghost gave a thumbs up with a crooked smile. The Mounders all piled into the chromed-out Volkswagen Van decorated with scuffs and blood stains and a deer skull on the grill that they lovingly named the “Murder Ride”. Hackle sat in the driver’s seat while Buckshot called shotgun, flicking at the Spongebob car freshener hanging from the mirror like it was a cat toy. Sematary and Ghost Mountain sat on the cushioned bench in the back, on opposite sides because they’re not gay. The engine sputtered once, twice, then started, the car making its way down Fury Road.
The members of the Mound had various ways of entertaining themselves during a long drive.
First, Tary and Buck hotboxed the van with mango-flavored smoke, giggling like little girls when Hackle cracked the window (not like that), coughing and cursing at them. Soon they tired of childish games, Sematary cracking open (not like that) his copy of The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoevsky. He dug for the pill bottle in the back pocket of his Trues to fully immerse himself in the book, rolling a yerk under his tongue and savoring the bitter taste before offering one to Ghost Mountain. Ghost raised his palm and shook his head, masterfully preserving his aura by not speaking a single word. Buck leaned against the side window in the front, watching the multicolored trees of the Screaming Forest blur together with speed, the sight reminiscent of an acid trip.
As they drove down Fury Road, eventually crossing the Rainbow Bridges Three, which lay over Bleed A River, they arrived in the Hundred Acre Woods. It was dark now, starless sky reminding Ghost of October Country. Hackle had turned on his high-beams as the Murder Ride steadily traversed the dirt trail that Fury Road tapered off into. Suddenly, something appeared in front of the van, seemingly melting into reality, warping the abyssal darkness around it.
Buck screamed, “What is that fecker?!”
The figure was lanky and pale, piercing eyes reflecting the light coming from the car.
Sematary nudged Ghost Mountain to open the door, the pair stepping outside of the van and hoping to get a selfie with the cryptid so they could Photoshop it onto their EP cover. As the two slinked closer and closer, the figure became more apparent.
“Oscar?” Tary said, confused and a little disappointed. Oscar18 stood in the middle of the dirt road, wearing a deer-in-headlights expression that could rival Buck’s and looking like a frail yet oddly beautiful Victorian street whelp.
“Load ‘er up!” Hackle shouted jovially, slapping the side of the Murder Ride and motioning them to let Oscar18 in.
They all piled back into the van, Buckshot with a haunted look in his eyes (though they couldn’t tell if he was genuinely disturbed or just high). As they got closer to civilization, driving down Cutter Lane, the Mounders (+1) became jollier. They sang along to Chief Keef’s “Love Sosa” in a beautifully off-key way (except for Ghost, for he was hitting that shi like a professionally trained opera singer), toting their vapes and 9’s and cutters and various Mound regalia like they were emoting on an Instagram live.
The fluorescent lights of a 7/11 in the distance was to them an oasis in the center of a desert, so Hdoe floored it, bringing them into the parking lot after speeding down the rest of the road. They trundled out of the van, Hackle filling it up with gas as they walked inside the store.
The lights flickered dreamily as the Mounders strolled through the aisles, grabbing miscellaneous snacks and drinks to make a feast Sematary would be proud of. The cashier glanced at them nervously, looking over their New Rocks and True Religion Jeans and Robins and BB Belts and iced-out Harold chains, seemingly psychologically affected by their swag.
Buckshot slammed a lighter that had a pickle on it and a bag of Fun Yuns onto the counter, Sematary following with a pack of Malboro Reds and a 6-pack of RedBulls. Ghost simply mind-beamed his gas station pizza and hot dog into the Murder Ride, as Oscar18 just stood there and Oscar18ed. The cashier scanned their items without making eye contact, flinching when Buck took a packet of artificial sweetener off the counter and snorted it.
Exiting, Tary cracked open (not like that) a can of RedBull, humming “RedBull Addict” to himself. Hdoe waved to the gang, cheesing wide asf as they climbed back inside the van. Ghost Mountain used his Mound mind magic to float over a hot dog to him, and Hackle ate the glizzy and turned off the car so that they could sleep before starting on their road trip again.
Buck went to the back of the van and curled up on the floor like a cat. Tary did the same on the backseat, cradling his vape like a teddy. Oscar18 loaded himself into the trunk to sleep with his eyes open, Ghost resisting the urge to spoon Sematary and instead hanging from the ceiling upside down to begin his eternal rest.
Warm sunlight woke the Mounders up, just like the day before, as they stretched their sore limbs and hit their dab pens and whatnot. Buckshot had somehow snuck off at midnight to score some heroin, nodding off and drooling in the corner as Oscar18 walked up from the back of the Murder Ride to join the gang. Ghost fell from the ceiling with a bang, landing directly on top of Sematary, who threw him off with superhuman, painkiller-fueled strength, making him crash into Buck. Hdoe woke with a start.
“What’s all this racket?” He mumbled good-naturedly, wearing that Hackle Smile™.
“Nothing Much, Sorry HDOE.” Tary sighed, rubbing his tired eyes.
Buck seized in the background as Ghost administered Narcan, Oscar18 silently watching like some sort of demented lawn gnome.
“We’re almost there, moundlings!” Hackle said cheerfully, turning the key as the engine purred to life.
They pulled out of the 7/11 parking lot, not driving more than 30 minutes before they finally came to their destination. A giant, lifelike lion statue greeted them as they poured out of the van and walked inside.
“Well, here we are! The San Diego Zoo!” Hdoe exclaimed.
Oscar18 gazed at the sculpted lion, enraptured by its manufactured beauty. Buckshot immediately started for the tiger exhibit, probably wanting to ride one or some dumbass shit. Tary and Ghost went for the capybaras, Hackle in tow. Oscar18 still stared at that… thing.
Sematary and Ghost pointed at the cute, impossibly rotund chill rodents, taking pictures and uploading Instagram stories with captions like “Very Clever Rodent”. Hackle watched with the gentle pride and enjoyment of a father, nibbling at a fuck-ugly Spongebob popsicle he scored at an ice-cream stand. Meanwhile, Oscar18 had finally stepped into the park, joining Buck to gaze at the tigers. A large male tiger recoiled at Oscar18’s gaze like it had been shot while Buck poked his fingers through the iron fence.
It was noon by the time they had traversed the park and seen the various animals, Tary repping imaginary sets in photos with a panda, Ghost luring in a white-tailed deer with his mysterious aura and petting it, Oscar18 instilling primal fear into carnivores and Buckshot testing his luck while Hackle supervised. They were gathered round the wild hog exhibit when Buck had dropped his syringe/vape/indistinct drug paraphernalia into the cage. Curious, a large, coarse-haired hog nosed the item, sniffing it before squealing loudly. Buckshot suddenly scaled the fence, jumping down into the exhibit.
“Buck, no!” Hdoe shouted, pure of heart as he is.
It hadn’t been 5 seconds before a swarm of hogs surrounded Buck, immediately beginning to draw and quarter him like some sort of organized militia, grabbing at his legs and arms and pulling him apart with their brutal strength. Dark blood sprayed the walls of the exhibit as Buckshot’s organs poured out and tiny crimson flecks even reached the faces of bystanders.
Hackle’s Spongebob popsicle fell to the floor in slow motion as he took in the sight. Tary laughed nervously, Ghost continued mewing and Oscar18 just smiled. Silently, they all headed to the zoo’s gift shop, buying a white bouquet to toss into the hog exhibit as either a sacrifice or to pay their respects. The long ride home was exceptionally silent, and as they walked back into the Butcher House, an eerie sound stopped them. Tary whirled around to find a figure behind him, all white bone and ragged red flesh stuck to him like some sort of infection.
“Buck, is that you?” Hdoe said fearfully.
“You may call me…. Snoobler.” The creature said.
THE END…