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Summary: Stacy finds herself face to face with a demon.

1989

Stacy leaned on the counter. She was bent over the tile counter with her coffee in both of her hands. She was a bigger girl with long brown hair. She had a half pony in on the top of her head and her hair was sprayed to the heavens with Aquanet. She wore jeans and her favorite geometric sweater. She sighed as she brought her coffee up to her lips for a sip. She licked her lips and set the cup back down. There was something about the energy in the room that felt off, but she couldn’t place it. Whatever it was, was throwing off her vibe that morning and she didn’t like it. She stood up straight and pressed one palm into the counter. She noticed a woman standing there and startled. 

“Jesus Christ where did you come from?” 

“Well, first of all I’m not Christ. Not even close. I’m Lucille.” She bowed before Stacy. 

Lucille had bleach blonde hair, it was teased and big, standing out several inches on each side of her head. She had pale makeup on, but dark red lips that almost seemed black. She had thick black eyeshadow. She wore a black dress, short, but long sleeves that came out in a bell shape near her hands. She had fishnet tights and chunky boots. Stacy saw goths all the time, lurking around the mall, but none had ever broken into her house before. 

Stacy glanced at the clock, 9am, it was definitely too early for this shit. 

“Get out,” she said. “I don’t care how you got in. I don’t have anything to give you, so just leave.” 

“You’re a buzzkill.” 

Stacy rolled her eyes. “Please, I’ve barely had a sip of coffee…” 

“It’s not that easy to get rid of me,” Lucille said. “If you haven’t noticed we’re not even in your house… like duh.” 

Stacy froze and looked around. The other woman was right. This wasn’t her kitchen, she didn’t have tile countertops. She had sprung for the granite when she remodeled the horrible 70s kitchen. The clock on the wall was plain white, round, black numbers and hands. But she had a cute wooden clock in her kitchen. Where the hell was she? She looked down at the mug she had been drinking out of and the coffee was gone. The plain black mug was shiny and clean as if she had never gotten coffee at all. 

“What the hell is going on?” Stacy demanded answers. 

“What can I say? We’re not in Kansas anymore,” Lucille giggled. 

The sound of a doorbell rang throughout the house. Stacy wondered for a moment if she should answer. It wasn’t her house, but maybe whoever was at the door would know where she was. Stacy glanced around looking for the front door. She could see the shadow of a person standing outside through the curtained window on the door. 

She started towards the door, but Lucille grabbed her arm. “I don’t think you want to do that.” She sounded serious, but she was grinning. 

Stacy yanked her arm away from the goth girl and continued towards the door. She popped it open, “Hey can you… oh shit.” 

A man with a hockey mask, wielding an axe, came swinging at her. 

He grunted, not really making any words, as he stumbled into the house. Stacy was already running. She didn’t know where to go in this unfamiliar house. She could hear Lucille cackling in the kitchen. Stacy turned and ran into the kitchen. 

“Help me!” she screamed. 

“Oh but why would I want to do that?” 

“You’re going to die too!” 

“Not likely.” 

The masked man walked through Lucille like she wasn’t even there. He came at Stacy, swinging his axe again. It came down hard on the counter, shattering some of the ceramic tile. Stacy yelped and ran in the opposite direction. She didn’t have much space to go because it was a small kitchen, but she was determined not to die this way. In a strange place, with a masked axe killer, and a ridiculous goth woman laughing at her misery. This was not right. This was like some bad horror movie. 

Wait? Didn’t she just rent a movie about an axe murderer? 

She ran into the living room and hid behind the couch. “This isn’t real, is it?” 

“It’s not fun when you figure it out,” Lucille said with a pout. 

The masked man came at her and swung his axe downward. Just as he was about to hit her, he became staticky. He faded around the edges like a bad picture on an old television set. The axe went through Stacy, but it didn’t hurt. She could hear the buzzing of the static as he began to disappear. Then nothing. No sound except her heavy breathing. The axe wielding mad man was gone. 

Stacy stood up slowly. “What the hell?” She shouted at Lucille. 

“Anger isn’t as tasty as fear.” She sighed. 

“What is your problem? What is all of this?” 

“I don’t have a problem… but this is my world.” 

“Your world? What is that supposed to mean?” 

“Come here, Stacy, darling.” She walked towards the front door. 

Stacy frowned, but followed. They walked out the front door, but the view seemed to stop at the sidewalk. She walked to the edge of the sidewalk where there was supposed to be a street, but it felt as if there were a wall in front of her. 

“What is this?” she asked. 

“Look…” Lucille gestured before them. 

It looked like an empty street with no way forward. Stacy pressed her hand against the invisible wall. It suddenly became wavy, almost shimmery. She squinted and looked ahead of her. She could see… her living room. Her actual living room. And… herself. She could see her body slumped off to the side of the couch. 

“Am I… dead?” she whispered. 

“Not quite,” Lucille said. “But I can fix that.” 

Stacy stared at her limp body. “I don’t want to die.” 

“Why not? Look at you… all alone on a Friday night, watching some horrible movie that went straight to VHS.” 

Stacy’s heart felt heavy. She suddenly felt thirty years of loneliness strangling her heart. It squeezed and wouldn’t let up. She sniffled and shook her head. “I’m fine… just fine.” 

“But are you? Where are your friends? You don’t even have a pet. It’s so sad.” 

“I don’t need those things.” Hot tears rolled down her cheeks. 

“Of course not.” Lucille ran an icy finger down Stacy’s cheek. “But you could have it all. I could give you everything. All it takes is a little death.” 

Stacy let out a shaky breath. “No…” 

Lucille huffed. “Why not?” 

Stacy stared out at the living room and then smiled. “Because I have her.” 

As if she had heard Stacy’s aching heart, Lisa walked into the room. Stacy was a tall, leggy, blonde. She wore a business suit in a bright purple color. The shoulder pads gave her a strong appearance. But then again she was strong. 

“God, Stace, I’m so sorry I’m late… oh!” She leaned down behind the couch and pressed a kiss to Stacy’s cheek. 

Stacy touched the spot on her cheek as if she could actually feel her girlfriend’s touch. 

Lucille grabbed onto Stacy’s arm. “You’re not leaving me.” 

“I’m not staying here. You can’t feed off my fear or sadness or whatever.” She pulled her arm away. 

Lisa brushed Stacy’s bangs out of her face and kissed her forehead too. “Wakey wakey,” she giggled. 

Stacy began to stir awake. She opened her eyes and saw Lisa standing over her. She sat up quickly and looked around. She was back in her living room. She glanced to the television set and saw Lucille on the screen. 

She banged on the glass of the tv and screamed, “Come back!” 

Stacy scrambled for the remote and turned off the tv. As soon as it clicked off Lucille disappeared. 

Stacy looked up at Lisa who was staring at the tv in horror. “We are not watching that movie tonight.” 

Lisa nodded. “Yeah, I’m not even going to bother rewinding that. It can go back in the box and back to the store… immediately.” 

Stacy popped the VHS out of the VCR and put it back into the rental store box. Her heart pounded in her chest. She wanted this movie gone. Out of her sight. Out of her mind. 

Lisa took the box. “Who would have thought Cabin of the Axe Killer would have a scary goth chick trapped inside.” 

Stacy almost laughed. “No shit.”