The night's air was cool and crisp tonight. Like a cartoon the lone van in the parking lot of the Coleville Movieplex's parking lot stood under the lamp's light. Joe's in the back of his van playing with some video editing mumbling about how Jenny's (his girlfriend of three years) is a bitch for throwing him out. The temperature inside of the van was battling that of outside; Joe could see his own breath. In the monitor of the video editor he could see his own reflection looking back at him.

Joe isn't the most handsome man on the planet, but even Joe had to stop and look at how he had let himself go on the personal hygiene.

The Cabin

He hadn't brushed his teeth in three days, nor shaved for five, and hadn't had a shower for about twice as long as that. He stinks, he stinks and he knows it, hell he stinks and he doesn't really care. His goatee had thickened since he had stopped trimming it, bushy and soiled with bits of his chicken pot pie dinner his stubble was catching up; almost a weak beard had grown in. His stained blue shirt wasn't doing much for him either, 'as long as it hides my pot belly I'll be ok' he thought, tall and broad shouldered he found it slightly difficult to move around freely in the back of his van.


The knocking surprised Joe and he jumped up and smacked his head into the roof shaking the van slightly. "Ow. Yeah, yeah, yeah, gimme a moment," Joe said slightly harsher than he intended it to be, rubbing his head. 'Man, I so hope that it's not the cops, everything else sucks right now, all I would need is a ticket and that would be it, I bet it's a ticket, I know it's a ticket fucker fuck, fuck, fuck, now what am I going to do? I'm broke as-- as--' his train of thought had come halting to an abrupt end when he peered out the passenger-side window and saw three odd children peering back at him.

"Hey mister," the child in the front started, "mister? Can you please give us a ride home, please? Mister?" Joe could do nothing except stare back at the trio of kids that had come up to his van.

The "leader" is wearing a dark blue hoodie, has dirty blonde hair, looks to be roughly 13, the second boy, looks about 11 or 12, around the same age as the blonde, this one has short brown hair, and wearing a black t-shirt with a light jacket, and dark jeans. The girl, third and last, is wearing black tank-top, black pants, has blackish lipstick, dark brown hair, has a smoke in her mouth ('she shouldn't be smoking,' Joe thought), he noticed that she had on a lot of jewelry including a cross, very Goth looking where as the boys look like skaters. Oh yeah, did I mention that it's November and fucking cold outside? You can't see their breath nor do they cast a shadow.

Joe looks at the children and just barely cracks open the window and ask what they want. They ask for a ride, almost demanding they give him one. "We need to go home now, our mother is calling us," one of them says. Joe reaches for the door; then looks at his hand, breaking the eye contact; then to the face of the kid.

He's got coal black eyes, no white, no pupil, no iris, only black.

"Let us in!" The boy's voice is frantic "We can't come in unless you say it's ok! Our mother is calling us, please mister LET US IN!"

Joe's fumbles with the clutch, slams it into gear, and screeches out of there.