Black Brook Road, Part 1 (Patreon)

I should have written this all down sooner.  It’s still hard to use  these fingers.  Even over a year later they don’t feel like mine.  It  feels like I’m stuck in someone else’s body and I don’t always get a say  in what it does.  But I have to get it down.  Our lives before are  starting to feel like a dream.  I need to remind myself they were real.   WE were real.  This is the nightmare.   
 

This is my third attempt at starting this…I’m having a hard time  getting my thoughts in order.  That happens a lot these days.  Just  focusing long enough to get a single task done can be a challenge.  I’m  not as bad off as Greg, but I’m a far cry from where I was.  It didn’t  help that the big guy had a bad night.  Getting him to bed took forever  and I’m always a wreck after that.  It’s so much worse when he  remembers.  It’s hard enough for me to watch what he’s become, but when  he has those lucid moments where he realizes what happened, it’s awful.   In those fleeting instances it’s like no time has passed at all for  him.  I wouldn’t say I’ve “gotten used to” what happened, but I’m  learning how to cope.  Greg’s not so lucky.  To look at him now, you’d  never believe this all started because he was working on his Master’s in  History.   
 

Greg was trying to find a project for his thesis when he came to me  with the stories about Black Brook road.  Despite the name, there was no  brook.  There wasn’t much of anything at all.  It was a long, decrepit  stretch of road on the north side in the absolute worst part of town.   There’d never been anything out there.  It was lined by empty buildings  that weren’t much more than piles of bricks.  It felt like the only  thing keeping them standing was spite for the people who’d built them.   Even they didn’t seem to want to be there.  At one point, a few blocks  away, it had been a bustling manufacturing district.  The factories  themselves were near the river, a fact that contributed to their success  with the ease of shipping and receiving.  While the management and the  upper class workers moved further up river, the rest were stuck in the  slums on Black Brook road.  Downwind of the factories, it was miserable  in it’s prime and hadn’t gotten better with age.  By the time the  factories closed down even the police wouldn’t set foot in that  neighborhood.  So when Greg came to me absolutely giddy about the area, I  had no idea what he was talking about.   
 

“Dude, I finally found it!”  He was grinning from ear to ear when he  let himself into my apartment.  Most people found his bright, sparkling  smile charming.  I knew it usually meant trouble.   
 

“Found what,” I asked, not looking up from my notebook.  He wasn’t the only one that had schoolwork on his mind.   
 

“My thesis!  Black Brook road.”  He flopped down next to me on the  couch so that we were pressed together and dropped a stack of papers on  top of the book I was reading. “Tom, seriously, can’t you at least put  some clothes on when I come over,” he said, slapping my bare thigh.    
 

I just laughed and rubbed my eyes.  I’d been studying for finals  since getting out of bed and hadn’t bothered to put anything on other  than a pair of boxer briefs.  “Normally I’d recommend calling first or  at least knocking, but I know you too well for that.”  I also knew Greg  well enough to know that if I didn’t listen to him now I wasn’t going to  get anything else done until I did.  He was like an eager puppy when he  was excited about something, complete with deep brown eyes that he  could use to exploit your weakness.  It didn’t hurt that he was  strikingly handsome on top of it.  Even back then I couldn’t deny it.   He had wavy, chocolate brown hair that matched the color of his eyes and  the perfectly manicured stubble that coated his high, symmetrical  cheekbones and surrounded his pouty lips.  We’d met in high school on  the wrestling team, and Greg’s solid, athletic body had only continued  to improve over the years.  His broad shoulders and bulging pecs made  his tiny waist and washboard stomach seem even more impressive than they  were on their own, and his solid biceps issued a challenge to any shirt  that tried to contain them.  Not to be outdone, his thick thighs and  round, solid ass filled out his pants and balanced out his built upper  body.  I’d also shared enough locker rooms with him over the years to  know just how large the beast lurking under the lump at his crotch  really was.  And before you think Greg was all brawn and no brain, he’d  been on either the honor roll or dean’s list the entire time I knew him.   He had it all.  Women threw themselves at him, and if men didn’t do  the same, they at least wanted to be him.  He could have been an  absolute terror.  Fortunately, he didn’t see himself that way.  Greg was  a total teddy bear to everyone he met.  He’d give you the shirt off his  back and then be modest about how good he looked without it on.   
 

So when he let himself into my apartment unannounced and interrupted  the important studying I needed to get through, I wasn’t mad.  “Black  Brook road?” I sighed, leaning back and stretching my own impressive  arms above my head.  Greg was my best friend, but I wasn’t going to let  him one up me.  If he had a six pack, I’d have an eight pack.  If he set  a record at the gym, I didn’t stop until I beat it.  If he got straight  A’s, I’d do the same with an extra class on my schedule.  At 6’1”, I  always felt like I had a running advantage since he was only 5’10”, but  even then he’d claim that when were in our 80s and shrinking he’d hold  out longer than me.  “Isn’t that where people go to overdose on meth?”   
 

“Yes,” he said as he spread his papers out.  “But it’s also got a really fucked up history.”   
 

“You mean because it’s where the greedy factory owners warehoused their poor, immigrant workers?”   
 

“Also yes, but it’s way, way worse,” he said, pausing when he  realized how excited he sounded about something awful.  He shook his  head and kept going.  “This shit goes all the way back to when the town  wasn’t much more than a few shacks that prospectors would stop at on  their way out west.  Black Brook road used to be called Black Brook  Hollow, and no one would go there on account of the disappearances.”   
 

“I’m listening.”   
 

“We’re talking two hundred years ago.  That’s the earliest record I  can find of a young man going missing.  Jeremiah Martin, aged 18.  Went  out into the woods up there and was never seen again.  Six months later,  Nathaniel Bates, aged 20, did the same.  No bodies were ever found.”   
 

“So?  There were wolves and bears and bobcats all over back then.  They probably got attacked.”   
 

“There was never any sign of a struggle.  No blood, no torn clothes,  nothing.  They were able to track both of them into the woods along the  brook and then it’s like they just vanished into thin air.  The tracks  just stopped.”   
 

I nodded.  “Alright, I admit that’s a little creepy, but so what?”   
 

“Soooooo…six months later another guy goes missing.  Bartholomew  Jenks.  Same situation: they track him into the woods, the trail goes  cold, and there’s no sign of a struggle.  But,” he cut me off when I  started to speak, “this is where it gets weird.  A week later someone  claiming to be ol’ Bart walks into town.  Only problem is the guy looks  nothing like him.  He’s too short and stocky and his face was all messed  up.  But he knew things about Bart that only Bart could know.  Oh, and  he was also stark naked and acting totally crazy.”   
 

“Jesus…so what’d they do?”   
 

“The only thing they ever did back then - they hung him.  They  assumed he was some crazy who’d done something sinister to the real  Bart.  But the guy swore right up until he dropped that he WAS Bart.   After that no one talks about the area at all for a looooong time.”   
 

“So the guy was some crazy out in the woods who just murdered them.  If it all stopped after that…”  
 

“No, see, that’s just it.  I don’t think it DID stop after that.  I  think they all got so freaked out they just stopped TALKING about it.”
 

“That’s a bit…”  
 

“Hear me out.  I’ve read enough historical accounts to know what it  looks like when people are actively avoiding a topic, either out of fear  of the law, or fear of something else.  This feels like fear of  something else.  There are random mentions of “didn’t find so and so,”  or “Bethany still distraught over Jacob going to the brook.”  There are  even mentions of strange footprints being found along the bank.”
 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, pump the brakes,” I said, hopping up off the  couch to get a drink. “You’re not expecting me to believe there’s  some…what?  Monster?”  I looked down at his spread of circled maps and  underlined passages.  “You’re actually trying to graduate, right?”   
 

“If you’d let me finish,” he said sternly, before breaking out in a  grin again.  “Also could you sit down so your junk’s not right in my  face?”   
 

“Oh you mean this junk?”  I tugged the front of my boxer briefs down  and let my package swing in front of his face for a second before the  waist snapped back into place.  I wasn’t as large as he was, but I was  bigger than most and not afraid to show it, especially if it meant  making Greg uncomfortable.   
 

“Oh come on man,” he laughed, turning his face away.  “I’m being serious.”   
 

“Fine, tell me about your monster,” I said, dropping back down onto the couch.     
 

“It’s not a…look, the disappearances and weird shit kept happening.   It’s always men, usually young, and sometimes they come back and  sometimes they don’t.  The ones who come back are always messed up.  But  I don’t think it’s ever stopped.”   
 

“But how?  Those woods are long gone.  There’s not even a brook out there anymore.”   
 

“Not above ground, at least.”   
 

“Wait…what?”   
 

“When the city grew and the factories expanded they didn’t bother  with damning up the brook or rerouting it. They just built over it.  And  once the area was packed beyond capacity with poor, uneducated young  laborers, it was all too easy for a few of them to go missing without  anyone noticing.  And even if they did notice, it’s not like the  assholes in charge gave a damn.  I found old missing person’s reports,  but no follow up.  As far as the cops were concerned back then the  people who lived there were all a dime-a-dozen.  Hell, the cops STILL  feel that way about the neighborhood.  Think about it.  All the crack  houses out there?  Does everyone out there really die of something drug  related?  How many people just vanish?”   
 

“But…okay…what about the weirder stuff?  Like that Bart guy?”   
 

I didn’t like the gleam in Greg’s eye.  “That didn’t stop either.  I  found a report about a guy who went missing in ’55.  Jason Moore, 22  years old.  His girlfriend reported him missing.  A week later a guy  claiming to be Jason shows up, but, like Bart, he looks totally  different.  The girl freaks, Jason gets thrown in an asylum until they  all shut down back in the 70s.  But I found him.”   
 

“You don’t…”
 

“Yep!  He’s only 20 minutes away.”  Greg stopped talking and gave me an expectant look.  “Go on, get dressed!”   
 

“Right now?!  I’ve got studying to….” I gave up, knowing I wasn’t going to win this one and went to get dressed.   
 

*****
 

We found Jason living at the south end of the county.  Greg’s “20  minute” estimate proved a bit off as we drove for nearly an hour until  we turned off on a dirt road that wound us back to a run-down trailer  sitting on cinder blocks.
 

“We’re about to get shot.  We’re totally going to get shot,” I said nervously as Greg pulled the car up.   
 

“Calm down.  Just let me do the talking.”   
 

“How do you know he’s even going to be coherent?  Dude’s 83…living  out here he’s probably senile.  Or dead.  Does it smell funny to you?   If there’s a body in there I’m out.”   
 

Greg just gave me a look like I was being ridiculous and climbed out  of the car.  Neither of us spoke on the short walk to the trailer’s  door, and I held my breath when Greg knocked.  There was no one around  for miles.  If something happened we were on our own.  At first, there  was no sign of life, but then we both jumped when the entire trailer  shuddered and we heard heavy feet come to the door.  The curtain on the  door was pulled to the side and the large face of a middle-aged man  peered out at us.   
 

“Uh, hi, sorry to bother you,” Greg said, quickly turning on his  charm.  “I don’t know if we have the right address, but we’re looking  for Jason Moore?  We’re from the university doing a project on Black  Brook road.  I saw that Jason lived in the area back then and…”  
 

Both of us scampered back involuntarily when the door suddenly  opened and a giant stepped out.  The man had to be nearly seven feet  tall and was covered in lean, wiry muscle.  He had on a thin, white  cotton tshirt that was stained with age and looked about two sizes too  small.  The worn sleeves barely crested his shoulders, and his veiny  arms were entirely uncovered.  The bottom of the shirt stopped at his  belly button, leaving the bottom of his flat stomach exposed.  He had a  blanket wrapped around his waist that stopped just above his ankles.   His face was as long as the rest of him, with a sloping forehead, a  flat, wide nose, and a huge chin.   
 

Neither one of us knew what to say.  We weren’t expecting Lurch from  the Addams Family to live here.  “Hi, I’m Greg.  This is Tom,” Greg  said, doing his best to keep his voice from shaking.  He stuck his hand  out, but the man didn’t take it.  “Is there a Jason here?”   
 

The man looked back and forth at both of us, his sloping forehead  wrinkling.  “The only thing you need to know about Black Brook road is  to stay away.”   
 

I was grateful for Greg’s natural ability to roll with things.  It  was all I could do to keep from gasping aloud when a high, helium  sounding voice came out of the giant man.  “I believe him, if that  helps,” Greg said gently.  “I’ve been doing research.  I know Jason  wasn’t the first.  I don’t think he was the last, either.”   
 

The man stared, his mean expression softening slightly.  “Course I  wasn’t,” he squeaked.  “That thing’s been doin’ this a long time.”   
 

It took a minute for the man’s words to sink in.  What he said  wasn’t possible.  “You’re saying….you’re Jason?  He should be in his  80s,” I said, earning a stern glance from Greg.
 

“I did, and I am.  Don’t look it, but it’s true.  Believe what you want.”  The man turned to go back inside.   
 

“Please, sir, we DO believe you.  Honestly.  It’s just…you’ve gotta  admit…it’s a lot to take in.  Did you believe it?  People had to have  talked back then.”   
 

“Course I didn’t!  No one did.  Old legends to scare the rookies is  all we thought it was.  Even when the first fella I knew went missing I  thought he’d just left.  Then…” he stopped and shook his head, his heavy  shoulders sagging.  “You boys really don’t think I’m crazy?”  
 

“I can promise we’re willing to listen,” Greg said, looking up and locking eyes with the hesitant older man.   
 

“If you’d said no I’d have told you to go to hell, but since yer honest…just don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”   
 

We followed him into the filthy trailer.  It was pungent with sweat  and grime and something else I couldn’t place.  Garbage littered the  floor and he swept clutter from the couch so he and Greg could sit.  I  found the cleanest looking spot I could to lean against.  The tight  quarters of the trailer only made our host seem even larger as he  hunched and rummaged through a box that he pulled out from under the  couch.  “Here.  See that fella there?  That was me.”   
 

Greg and I stared at a faded, black and white photo of a young man  and woman.  The man was short and stocky with a solid build and dark,  handsome features.  “This…was you?  What…how…?”   
 

“Short little thing, wasn’t I” the man said with a humorless laugh.   “That was Sarah.  Heard she passed away a few years back…” his eyes  went distant as he trailed off.  “Not that it makes no difference.  She  never did believe I was me.  How could she?  One night I look like that,  then this?  I was never the best lookin’ guy, but even if she believed  me how’s she supposed to look at a face like this every morning?  Even  if I wasn’t…”  He shook his head and hesitated.   
 

“Just take your time,” Greg said encouragingly.   
 

Jason sighed.  “I was comin’ off a late shift.  I’d been at the  factory all day on a double.  I was tryin’ to save every penny I could  to get outta that neighborhood and start a life for Sarah and me.  I  didn’t see or hear nothin’ when it happened.  One minute I was walkin’  down the street and then…nothin’.  No pain.  No choking.  Just black.   It was like I blinked but when I opened my eyes I was in a cave.  I was  standin’ upright but I couldn’t move.  I wasn’t tied up, I  just…couldn’t.  It was dark down there.  Candles were lit but you  couldn’t see more’n a few feet in any direction.  It was enough light to  see a naked fella standing in front of me.  I didn’t know his name but I  recognized him from the factory.  Brawny fella, looked to be around my  age.  He was taller than me, but so was everyone back then.  He looked  terrified.  I could see him sweatin’ and shakin’ like he was tryin’ to  move and he was lookin’ at me out of the corner of his eye.  About then I  realized I was stark naked too, but that’s not what he was lookin’ at.   From behind me this…thing…comes and stands in front of us.  It stood  upright like a man, but it wasn’t no man.  It was covered up in old  clothes and rags like a mummy, with these long, thin fingers stickin’  out.  Too long to be human.”    
 

I shot Greg a warning look that we were entering into crazy  territory, but he just shook his head at me and let Jason continue.   
 

“I was too dumb and scared to know any better so I start shoutin’ at  the thing.  I’m screamin’ and yellin’ and callin’ it every name I can  think of…” He reached up and rubbed at his throat.  “That’s when I  learned it has a sense of humor.  It…stumbles…it wasn’t walkin’ like a  man would.  It was like it was just fallin’ forward instead of takin’  steps.  But it comes over and I feel its long fingers at my throat.  At  first I think it’s gonna grab me, but I just feel its fingers movin’ on  my neck.  I didn’t know it then, but it was drawin’.  All I feel is a  little tingle, but when I start yellin’ again I sound like this.  I used  to have a deep voice.  When I yelled, people listened.  It made up for  me bein’ so short, ya know?  So I’m standin’ there squeakin’ and it  starts laughin’.  It was like a cough you or me would make, but I know  it was laughin’.  I started yellin’ again but my voice only got higher  and higher and it just kept making that damn noise.”  Jason’s eyes were  glued to the ground as he continued.   
 

“I learned it had been drawin’ when it turned its attention back to  the other fella.  It grabbed a bowl of some kinda dust or ash and used  those long fingers to draw some kinda symbols all over him.  When it was  done they just…vanished, like they melted into him.  Then he  started…movin’.  Wigglin’ around.  His hands were all over himself and  his hips were shakin’.  Like I said, he was a brawny guy.  We did hard  work.  We didn’t need no gym to have muscle, and this guy had plenty.   But there he was, dancin’ around like one of the girls at Max’s.  I  still couldn’t move.  I didn’t have a choice but to watch.”  Jason  hesitated.  “Ya gotta understand…we were lucky to have a roof over our  heads back then.  We didn’t have our own bathrooms.  You wanted to  shower you went down and did it with ten other guys in your building.   So I was used to seein’ a fella without clothes on, but I’d never seen  one move like that.  And much as I hated to admit, I started to like it.   I knew it was whatever that thing was doin’ to us, but the more he  moved, the more I wanted.  I started to FEEL the way I did when I  watched the girls at Max’s.  His muscles all movin’ and flexin’ like he  was hearin’ some kinda music.  I…I couldn’t take my eyes off his hard  pecker anymore.  It was huge.  Bigger’n mine by a long shot, just  bouncin’ and waggin’ around.  I was hard too.  If I could’a moved I’d  have been…” he shook his head and took a deep breath.   
 

“Anyway, when he started comin’ my way I wanted him worse than I’d  ever wanted Sarah.  I knew it was wrong.  Two men didn’t do that sorta  thing.  But when he turned around and pressed his back against me I  couldn’t help myself.  All of a sudden I could move.  My arms at least.   My hands were all over him, runnin’ through the hair on his chest while  he squirmed and wiggled his hips against my naked crotch.  I was fit to  burst myself when I felt it all start to change.  This fella’s body was  like iron.  No part of him was soft.  Pretty hairy, too.  But I start  to notice when I’m grabbin’ at his chest there’s no hair anymore.  Not  on his stomach, either.  And he’s startin’ to go soft.  My fingers are  starting to dig in a little more.  His rear end started to feel less  like two rocks against my pole and more like it did when Sarah and I  fooled around.  The whole time he just kept wigglin’ and dancin’.  It  didn’t take long.  His chest wasn’t hard anymore.  My hands grabbed at  two flabby lumps, and I was squeezin’ his belly now.  His gut shot out  and his tight waist was like a inner-tube now.  When he raised his arms  like he’d been doin’, they weren’t a workin’ man’s arms anymore.  They  shook and jiggled like jello.  His legs, too.  They were all chunky and  pressed together, and that rear…I…it wasn’t just soft, it was like two  sacks of flour.  But it still felt so good.  I held onto his squishy  sides while his ass grew around my achin’ self.  Wedged between those  cheeks like I was while he kept swigin’ his hips I don’t know how I  didn’t explode.  I just kept holdin’ on to him.”   
 

Jason shifted his giant frame on the couch, rubbing at his face with  his hands.  He was silent for a long time while Greg and I just looked  at each other.  “Then what happened,” Greg finally asked.   
 

“Remember how I said it had a sense of humor?  It didn’t need to do  this to my voice anymore’n it needed to make that fella humiliate  himself by dancin’ around like that.  When he turned around in my arms  it kinda shook me out of it.  He wasn’t in no trance.  His body might’ve  been outta his control, but I could see in his eyes he knew exactly  what was happening to him.  He’d felt himself gettin’ fattened up like a  hog.  He took a step back and I got a better look at him.  I couldn’t  believe it.  He was easily three times the size, none of it muscle.  His  arms hung out at an angle and his huge pecker barely stuck out between  his giant thighs.  Havin’ no hair on him only made it worse.  He looked  soft and pink.  Even his face was all chins and round cheeks.”   
 

“Jesus…” I whispered under my breath.
 

“He didn’t have anythin’ to do with this,” Jason said, shaking his  head.  “The other fella kinda fell to his knees and next thing I knew he  had his pudgy face buried in my crotch.  I could feel his sausage  fingers squeezin’ at my behind while he sucked me like he was desperate.   But then that thing started comin’ towards me.  It had that bowl of  those ashes or whatever they was with it.  I tried to run again, but I  was frozen.  I couldn’t even move my arms anymore.  It dipped its  fingers in that stuff and started drawin’ a symbol on my chest.  Even  before it was done I started goin’ all tingly.  I didn’t know what was  gonna happen.  Then I started growin’.  Not all at once.  First my arms  started droppin’, like they was bein’ stretched.  I saw ‘em get long and  skinnier.  Then my torso starts movin’ up on it’s own, pullin’ in at  the sides like taffy bein’ stretched.  Then my legs start goin’.  The  whole time the other guy’s mouth was glued to me.  I don’t know how long  it took.  I think I went a lil’ crazy.  For a long time I didn’t even  remember this part…but over the years it all started creepin’ back.  I  just stood there tinglin’ and stretchin’ while it did its work and the  other guy kept suckin’.  Then it just stopped.”   
 

Jason looked at us, his face bright red.  He had a strange look in  his eyes that made me start wondering how quickly we could get out of  here.  “The other guy gave kind of a moan and fell back in a pile.  For a  second we could both look at ourselves.  I’ll never forget how terrible  it was to look down at this long, ropy body for the first time.  I was  still solid, unlike that other poor fella, but I was all out of sorts.   The other guy just kept whimpering and squeezin’ at how soft he’d  become.  Then that thing came back.  The other guy was back on his feet  as fast as his new body would let him and we were back to being frozen  side by side.  It went over to the other guy first and held a bowl in  front of the small bit of his dick we could see.  It kinda made a waving  motion with its hand and the other guy blew.  That thing sprayed like a  firehose from between those thighs til that bowl was full.  It went to  get another and I could see that the other guy’s eyes had glazed over.   Then it was in front of me.  It made that same motion with his hand and I  blew like I’d never blown before.  That was the last thing I remember  til I woke up in the hospital.”   
 

Greg just blinked at me. I could see him trying to wrap his brain around what we’d just heard.  “How’d you get out?”   
 

Jason shrugged.  “Never did find out.  Maybe it only needed to keep one of us?  I never did see that other fella again.”
 

“So it let you go,” I asked.   
 

“If you wanna call it that.  My life was ruined.  First they locked  me up sayin’ I was crazy, then, when they finally can admit that I’m who  I said I was, they just dump me back out here.  They didn’t have any  clue how this could happen.  Said somethin’ about a “genetic condition”  or some garbage.  But there I was.  In a body like this with a voice  like a helium balloon and a face like a caveman.  And…” he paused,  “…like I said, it had a sense of humor.  I’ve never been quite right  since then.  It’s why I live out here.  The way I felt about that other  fella…it…never went away.  The things I’ve done, and let fellas do to  me…it’d turn your hair white.”  He shifted on the couch.  I didn’t like  where this was headed.  “Hell, even now I…well, take a look.”  He tossed  the blanket aside, letting us see the old cotton gym shorts he had on.   Like his shirt, they looked several sizes too small, with a long, solid  cock straining against them and forming a growing damp spot.  He looked  at us like someone had flipped a switch.  There was no more hesitation  or shame in the eyes under that sloping brow, just sheer lust.  “I don’t  s’pose one’a you boys wants to help an old man out?”   
 

Needless to say, we didn’t.  We booked it out of the trailer and were back on the main road before either of us spoke.   
 

“It’s all bullshit,” I said, trying not to sound shaken.  “Fucking  garbage.”  Greg’s knuckles were white on the wheel and he hadn’t looked  away from the road.  “Dude, he…”
 

“I know!  I know, alright, I don’t need to fucking hear it,” Greg  snapped.  It took me back.  In all the years I’d known him I could count  on two hands the number of times I’d seen him lose his cool.  “Fuck!”   He punched the side of the steering wheel and pressed back in his seat.   I let him stew.  “Okay…okay…so what do we know,” he finally said,  taking a deep breath.  “Sorry I yelled at you.”   
 

I couldn’t help but grin at the apology.  If I was him I’d be  furious, but there he was, apologizing for getting kind of mad.  “We  know that guy’s a crazy old pervert.”   
 

Greg laughed at that.  “Didn’t expect to see two sets of junk today, that’s for damn sure.”   
 

“It’s still early.  You could try for a third.”   
 

“So I guess I need to find a new project,” Greg sighed.   
 

I wish I would have kept my mouth shut.  If I had, none of this  would have happened.  Instead I needed to prove that I wasn’t actually  rattled by the old man.  “No, no way,” I said.  “Fuck that.  If for no  other reason than to prove once and for all that there’s nothing down  there and this is all urban legend bullshit.”   
 

“Not a great start…but at this rate it’ll make for a hell of a paper.”