High Marks (RB Vs. The Shadow God, Chapter 8) · 4:09pm Jul 3rd, 2022
Previously, on The Shadow God:
Bloodborne disease brothers for life!
And now:
Before we begin today, I have something to share. I noticed something interesting in one of the reviews for The Shadow God:
The back cover copy reads [...] The author photo [...] His bio[...]
Which was notable to me because my ebook edition doesn't have the back cover, which I looked for when attempting to research the author. So I did some Google searching, and I have found a picture of Mr. Rayburn's bio. Here it is:
It's very small, so in case you couldn't read it, it says (in Comic Sans!) the following:
Aaron Rayburn loves to scare people, which is his outlet to reality. And he does so by writing stories. Although this is his first novel, he says there will be more to look forward to from him in the future. He also says that he owes a great deal of gratitude to the Devil... for filling his mind with such horrific images. Mr. Rayburn resides somewhere along the Ohio River where he is at work on his second novel.
Also, here's the picture, blown up a little:
With that behind us, I actually have some other, very big news regarding Mr. Rayburn. Look forward to that tomorrow.
Anyway, let's get started.
The chapter opens with our three musketeers pulling up at Mark's house. Mark's father is loading up the car. Seems he and Mark's mother have decided to go to Cincinnati, and that it was mainly Mark's mother's decision.
“Is Margie going, too?” Mark asked, hoping.
Bruce gave his son an offensive look. “Hell no!” he blurted. “She’s staying here with you.”
Funny way to treat your own daughter.
Helen stumbled into Mark. “Oh, hi, honey. Where have you been?”
Seeing his mother’s face, Mark was reminded of his dipping into her purse and taking Lord knows how much money. He didn’t count it, but on the other hand, he hadn’t used it so the money should still be in his wallet … if the girls hadn’t taken it when he was out of it.
Well, at least he regrets it a little bit. Still odd that no one's noticed the tattoo on his hand. Maybe they can't see it? It actually hasn't been brought up since it happened, so maybe Mr. Rayburn forgot.
“That’s nice, dear,” said Helen. “Me and your father are going to Cincinnati and we need you to —”
“Watch Margie,” Mark interjected. “I know.”
Margie is supposedly eighteen. I think she can watch herself.
“I can’t promise you anything,” said Mark, “because we know what a ho bag Margie is.”
God I hate Mark.
“You don’t have to worry about me,” said Mark.
“Or me!” shouted Margie, her hand on Craig’s shoulder. Craig could smell a sweet perfume exuding from her body. Once Mark’s parents were gone, Mark turned toward his sister and said, “Now you have to get out of our business.”
“Says who?” said Margie childishly.
“Says me ‘cause I’m older,” said Mark, matching her childishness.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” said Mark.
Once again, I feel I have to remind the audience: Mark is twenty. No one in this story seems to act their age.
Mark and Todd turned toward Craig, whose cheeks were starting to redden. “What?” he said.
“She certainly has the hots for you,” said Todd, slapping him across the shoulder.
“No, she doesn’t!” Craig snapped, slapping him back.
Mark shuffled past Craig, murmuring.
“What did you say?” Craig asked him.
Mark turned around. “I said that you could probably fuck her anytime you wanted to.”
“No!” Craig said, disgusted.
You and me both, Craig. You and me both.
“She’s your sister for Chrissakes! Besides, I don’t want to and I don’t need to! I’ve got Kristy.”
“Oh, yeah,” said Mark. “Kristy. I almost forgot.” He leaned in on Todd’s ear and whispered in it. Todd began to laugh.
“What’s he saying, Todd?”
Todd shook his hands at him. “I can’t get involved,” he said. “It’s funny, though.”
“What is?” Craig asked, determined to crack the joke.
Mark finally turned toward Craig. “All I said was there was no way anybody could turn down free pussy like that. Only f**s do that.”
Oh goody. More slurs I have to censor.
There was something about Mark that didn’t seem quite right. He noticed that Mark’s demeanor was different.
“C’mon, Craig!” said Mark, aggravated. “I know, and you know, and Todd here knows, that Margie has got a nice body. Now you can’t sit there and deny that!”
Craig was backing into a corner. Ok. He could admit that Margie had a nice body, but that was it! He didn’t want to do anything more to her than he wanted to do to Mark’s mom … which was absolutely nothing!
Mark smiled. “I know you well enough to know that you would be fucking the shit out of my sister!”
I just... We've spent two whole pages, here, with Mark talking about how Craig should bang his sister, and I just...
Like...
Why? Why are we spending so much time on this? Surely there are more interesting and less gross ways to show that Mark is messed up in the head right now than this, right? I mean, what's even the significance of it? It's such a weird thing to have him do.
Anyway, Todd brings them back to reality, telling them to focus on the problem at hand: the woods.
“I thought you were afraid of the woods?” said Mark.
“I am, but I’ll be safe with you guys with me.”
Mark laughed. “Sorry for calling you a f*g, Craig.” He cocked his thumb at Todd. “We see who the real f*g is.”
“At least I’ve had sex before!” Todd shouted at him.
Best of friends. Blood brothers, even. Why do all of these characters have to be so goddamn insufferable?
The three boys finally get back to the problem at hand: what to do next. Todd and Mark decide to leave it up to Craig. Craig paces around for a bit, thinking. Surely he'll say to go out into the woods, right? I mean, time is of the essence, according to Craig's dad. What else are they going to do?
“So what’s the verdict?” asked Mark. Craig looked over at him, and then shifted his gaze to Todd, who seemed nonplussed. “I say we wait for the blue light to come back tonight,” he said, avoiding any controversy about him wanting to be a hero.
Or, okay, I guess they could just do nothing. Sure. Let's go with that.
Todd is happy about this. Mark, on the other hand, is not.
“You guys used to have a sense of exploration, but not anymore,” said Mark, disgusted. “Now you’re all just a bunch of pussies! Personally, I’m sick of this motherfucker fucking with me, and I’m gonna go do something about it.” He dashed up the stairs to his bedroom.
A moment later, Mark came back down the stairs carrying his newly acquired Magnum, which he loaded in front of Craig and Todd.
Here's another question: where did Mark get the bullets? Did they come with the gun? He never said anything about finding them.
Mark announces his intentions to go out in the woods and shoot anything he finds there, because that worked so well the last time. Craig and Todd try to warn him, but he runs off.
“Your plan sucks!” Mark blurted. “I want some action.”
He started for the door, opened it, and turned back toward his friends, with his pistol poised. “I’ll be in the woods hunting,” he said. “And don’t expect me back until I find him and kill him.”
Craig and Todd decide they have to go after Mark. They grab a couple of baseball bats from Mark's garage and give chase.
Todd is scared of the woods and doesn't want to go in. Craig calls him a chickenshit and a pussy, which I'm sure will be very motivating. They enter the woods. After a lot of waffling, they catch up to Mark, who has at some point acquired a flashlight.
Mark tells them that he thinks there's something else in the woods with them.
Todd pawned at Craig again. “Jesus, Craig. Let’s get the heck out of here! My heart can’t take the suspense right now.”
“Would you move so I can get the hell home?” said Mark, pushing past Craig and Todd. “I don’t want to be just standing here when this thing decides to come after me.”
“What do you th-think it-it is?” Todd stuttered.
Mark shook his head. “I don’t know, but I don’t intend to find out either.”
Mark is suddenly a lot less gung-ho, isn't he? It's not like it's cowardice, he just suddenly doesn't want to be in the woods anymore. It's weird.
The three of them were silent. Once their suspicions were raised, there came a soft growl not far from where they stood. The crickets instantly shut off their nightly song. There was a shuffle of leaves, and then another short period of the ominous soft growling.
“What is it?” whispered Craig. “A coyote?”
“It’s close to us,” whispered Mark, ignoring Craig.
“Oh God!” rasped Todd, quivering behind Mark’s back.
“Then let’s get out of here,” said Craig.
“We can’t move,” said Mark. “If we do, it’ll attack.”
Seriously, Mark's weirding me out. It's like he's suddenly a completely different character. Are we sure this is the same person?
“It might be just a bobcat,” said Craig. “I’ve heard they’re back in the area.”
Mark shook his head. “No, it’s not. It’s definitely something from the Dark World. I can feel it.”
This has to be intentional, right?
Right?
They decide to keep moving. The growling of the thing keeps getting closer.
Mark clicked on his flashlight, a cone of white light cutting an arc into the night. He spun around and shined the light at Craig. Craig watched Mark and Todd’s faces transform from an indifferent state to a white, petrified state.
“What is it?” Craig asked, a sliver of fear running down his spine.
Neither Mark nor Todd were able to speak. Their mouths hung agape as their eyes popped from their white waxen faces. Mark dropped the light, but kept a firm grip on his gun. He raised it toward Craig.
This would be a good moment if it weren't for the line about their eyes popping out.
Todd recognizes the thing that the light revealed. It's the werewolf. They run.
Their bodies flooded with panic, as they dropped their bats and ran for bloody Mary. Mark was unable to get a shot off, because his fear overburdened his bodily control.
Good job, guys.
The werewolf knocks Craig off his feet; he tumbles to the forest floor. Instead of finishing him off, though, the werewolf goes after Todd. It slashes an X into Todd's stomach with its claws. Todd screams. This finally gets Mark to take a shot at the werewolf, which hits home. He fires several more shots into the thing's head. It whimpers and topples over the hillside.
Todd is in bad shape.
“C’mon, man!” said Craig. “We gotta move! If we don’t, then we’re all dead!” He began to lift up on Todd.
“My phone,” said Todd, crying out against the pain.
“Your phone?” asked Mark. “You got a phone on you?”
Todd nodded weakly. “Call … an … ambulance.”
“You probably just saved your own fucking life!” He held it to his face and tilted it toward the moonlight so he could read the numbers. He pushed the buttons clumsily, not knowing which one turned the friggin’ thing on. “FUCK!” he cried out, aggravated.
Craig snatched the phone from Mark. “Let me try. I know how to work it.” He held it to the moonlight, hit the green button, and the small screen came to life. He dialed 9-1-1.
Ah, 2005. Good times.
Craig tells the operator what's going on and begs them to send an ambulance. In the meantime, Craig and Mark put their arms under Todd's shoulders and begin to carry him through the woods. Behind them, they can hear the werewolf; it's not dead.
Eventually, they make it out of the woods. An ambulance, a patrol car, and a vehicle with a flashing dash light are waiting for them. Craig tells Mark to throw away his gun; he does have it illegally, after all. Mark tosses it into the woods. So much for that.
As the paramedics jumped down into the thicket of briars and loaded Todd onto the stretcher, two uniformed officers exited their patrol car. They were followed by two casually dressed men from the car with the flashing dash light. The two uniformed cops hung back as the other men, guns strapped to their sides, approached Craig and Mark.
After a short moment, he introduced himself. “Hello, my name is Detective Jim Underwood.” He shook Craig’s and Mark’s hands. “And this is my partner in crime, Detective Roger Eubanks.”
Jim Underwood? Another cousin of mine, it would seem. Probably the son of the doctor Craig's dad killed, too, if I had to wager a guess.
Jim dismisses the regular cops. He begins asking them questions. The first is to ask who attacked them, which is a pretty weird thing to ask, given that Craig explained to the 911 operator that they had been attacked by a wild animal, and that the wounds on Todd's stomach were clearly made by something with claws.
Anyway, Craig tells him they were attacked by a werewolf.
Underwood lowered his head, keeping his eyes peeled on Craig. “A werewolf?” he said, his voice loaded with sarcasm.
Yeah, that's about how I would react, too.
Mark interrupts Craig and tells him to go in the ambulance with Todd; he'll handle Mr. Underwood. I wouldn't trust Mark with something like that, but apparently Craig does, because he gets into the ambulance and is taken away. Mark half-answers, like, one question, then runs off back to his house. I'm sure that's not going to raise anyone's suspicions at all.
He was stirring the pot on something he had no clue about and knew he needed help. He needed guidance. There was only one person he could think of in the whole world that could help him. And that was Ridley.
Are... are you serious?
Like, really, Mark?
Mark pulled into the gravel parking lot behind Ridley’s Tavern. He got out, tucked the .44 he had retrieved from the woods, once Underwood and Eubanks left, into the waistband of his pants and knocked on the huge iron door.
Oh good, he still has his gun. I trust Mark completely to be responsible with a firearm.
Mark meets up with Sledge, who leads him to Ridley's office. Ridley is once again surrounded by women.
“Ladies,” said Ridley. “You do remember our friend, yeah?”
The blonde, brunette, and redhead, each licked their lips at Mark. “Of course, we do,” said Diane.
“Yeah,” replied Lindsay, “how could we forget Mr. Porn Star?”
“He was so good,” said Lisa, touching herself.
“So tell me,” he said. “What brings you here this fine evening?” He paused, and then said, “More pussy?”
Mark blushed. Yeah, he wanted that, but he also wanted to know what in the hell was going on with his life and what he was to expect from now on. He nodded at Ridley’s invitation. “Yeah, of course I’d like more of that, but I’d also like to know what I should expect from being a member of The Satanist’s Group Association.”
Y'know, I'd almost forgotten about The Satanist's Group Association.
Almost.
Ridley notices the scratches on Mark's arm. He asks him where he got them, his demeanor growing serious. Mark is reluctant to tell him, but eventually reveals that it was a wolf.
Ridley snapped his head to look into his face. The smile he once possessed completely vanished. “How big?” he asked.
Mark nodded, going over the size of the werewolf in his head. “Black bear size, I’d say.” He finally looked into Ridley’s face and he saw the sheer terror there. It was obvious that Ridley had run into the wolf before. Mark guessed it wasn’t a pleasant experience for either of them.
Now, that's a bit unexpected. You've caught my interest, Mr. Rayburn.
Ridley heals Mark's arm with satanic magic or something, then sits down. Then he tells Mark he wants to show him something. Then he stands up again.
He leads Mark and the girls into the hall and down a series of narrow corridors, and I would like at this point to remind everyone that this is taking place at the back of a bar. It could just be magic making it bigger on the inside, though.
Eventually, they come to a room. Inside is a man tied to a chair. Mark recognizes him; it's the guy he tried to kill in the Dark World. Ridley tells Mark to finish the job. With an axe.
Mark shook his head. “No,” he whispered. “I ain’t doing it! I ain’t doing it!” He bumped into Sledge again and this time Sledge shoved him forward into Ridley’s waiting arms.
Ridley towered over Mark as he glared wickedly down into Mark’s waxen white face. Ridley’s eyes flared red as he spoke. “You have a choice,” he said, his voice suddenly deep and demonic. “He dies or you die.”
Man, this was such a good idea, coming here. Real smart move on Mark's part.
Anyway, Mark kills the guy. Then he starts crying.
What was next? What sick thing would Ridley have in store for him now?
Mark would find out much too soon.
And that's the end of the chapter. Phew! Long one today, eh folks? Forty-nine pages, that was. I'm a bit exhausted.
Oh. But I'll still see you tomorrow.
Peace!
oh no, that guy lives far too close to me for comfort D:
Makes you wonder if the characters weren't originally younger and then had their ages increased by the same amount to avoid scrutiny.
In any other story, all this shit would be a sign that Mark's time in the Shadow Realm or whatever has affected him and/or opened him up to demonic possession, but he'd have to have a personality to contradict for that to be reality.
I just can't not think of the ending of Raiders of the Lost Ark.
Hey now, I thought you weren't supposed to turn down free pussy. >.>
5669723
Well, I’m currently quite a bit ahead, and considering what happens later…
Well, I really hope you’re wrong, but it wouldn’t surprise me if you’re right.
Edit:
From The publisher’s website:
are not allowed.
That being said, Shadow God does fail a few of their content guidelines, so I presume they’ve gotten stricter since 2005.