Search the Community

Abandoned Daycare By: Personalias It was supposed to be an easy job: Spend the night cleaning up an old daycare that had been out of business longer than it had been open. Then Jake’s aunt could re-open it, take care of some brats, make some money, yada yada yada. It started out simple enough for the four college students. Carpet cleaner and stain remover were needed for neglected spots where pipes had dripped or wild animals and homeless people had done their business, but it’s not like the hallways were smeared in shit. If anything the place reeked of baby powder, and there were worse things for a place to reek of. All this place needed was some vacuuming, some mopping, a whole lotta trashbags, and a bunch of cardboard boxes. The quartet of amigos had all helped each other move out of dorms before. This was just that but on a bigger scale. One night tops. Maybe a weekend. Easy money. Until they found the storage room… It was Lester who spoke first. “It’s like if a preschool teacher was a hoarder!” Lester: Master of words, wits, and wisdom. Speaker of the obvious. Probably very high. His baggy clothes and gangly frame made him look like a scarecrow brought to life. The stoner wasn’t wrong. The room was littered with baby toys, furniture, clothes, and other what could be best described as ‘knick-knacks’. Everything was scattered about but nothing seemed hidden. “Some of this stuff looks in good condition,” Emily noted. “Wonder why they didn’t pawn or sell it?” Emily: Practical. Responsible. A good girl. Her Family was wealthier than all three of her friends’ combined, but she did her best not to flaunt it. Still dressed stylishly and feminine. She hadn’t been seen in pants since she’d been old enough to pick out her own clothes. Madison ran her hands over the crib bars. “This crib is giant,” she noted. “Manufacturing error?” Madison: The only one of them on a full academic scholarship. Blind without her glasses. Naive to the ways of the world. Over by a changing table, Jake reached beneath and took out an almost comically large diaper. “These got cartoons on them and everything. Maybe this was a daycare for old people or something.” “Why do the diapers have cartoons on them then?” “I don’t know! Old people like cartoons! Alzheimers and shit!” Jake: Blonde haired blue eyed All-American dreamboat. Point guard on the college basketball team. The unofficial leader of the group. The others winced and sucked in their breath. Jake didn’t normally talk like that. His grades had been slipping this semester and he was going full meathead dudebro as a result. They’d have to have a talk to him about that. Something else caught Jake’s eye. He put down the diaper and took a few steps towards a small silver whistle laying on a shelf with an anchor engraved in it. His lips started to pucker at the thought of blowing on it. Madison found a vial straight out of an old sci-fi movie, the green liquid inside it still bubbling. A voice in the back of her mind whispered that maybe she should drink it and see if it tasted any good. Emily fiddled with a dusty old carpet bag, opening it up and taking out brick-a-brack, noticeably a paddle that seemed too big to fit. “Uh guys,” Lester said. “I’m not sure it’s awesome to be messing around in here. Maybe we should get back to cleaning.” He was looking around and realizing there was some disturbing stuff in here: A pink straight jacket, a dollhouse that looked eerily like the outside of the daycare, a VHS tape called ‘This Show Is For Babies’, and golden diaper pail were just some of the things that were giving him the heebie jeebies. “Dude, chill out.” Jake put down the boat whistle and picked up a pastel puzzle box. He turned it over in his hands, trying to solve it, playing with it and his focus increasing and his frustration ratcheting up with every turn and click. The stoner rolled his eyes. “Yeah,” he whispered. “Can’t even solve a damn kids’ toy.” Lester paced near the entrance. “Dude belongs here.” He stopped when he noticed a teddy bear. It was a clean but raggedy looking thing, with two mismatched eyes; one sparkling red and the other shimmering blue. Lester could have gotten lost in those beady eyes. Something didn’t sit right about that with him. “Where have I read…?” He let the thought dangle unspoken “Guys!” Emily called, barely containing a giggle. “Listen to this!” As if snapped out of a trance, the others put down their discoveries and gathered round her. “I found this rule book inside the bag.” The others all drew close. “I wouldn’t call that a book.” Madison said. “It’s too thin. More like a pamphlet.” Jake read the title aloud. “Nanny Windel’s Rules for Good Baby Boys and Girls.” Lester arched an eyebrow and stepped back. “Rules? Numbered rules?” “Yeah,” Emily said. “How’d you know?” Madison peaked over Emily’s shoulder and read the first rule aloud. “Rule Number One: Good babies wear and use their diapers at all times except when being changed or given a bath.” Emily snorted. “Weird right?” Jake posted up behind Emily’s other shoulder. “Rule Number Two: Good babies don’t touch their diapers.” He shook his head. “Who wrote this garbage?” “Nanny Windel, didn’t you hear?” Emily laughed. “Rule Number Three: Babies can’t feed themselves.” The corners of Lester’s mouth were plunging down towards the carpet. “Guys. I think you should stop reading that. Now.” Yet again, the others ignored him and kept going. “Rule Number Four,” Madison took over, “Good babies don’t use grown up words.” “Rule Number Five: Good babies crawl,” Jake said. “Most of these are just facts, not rules. What’s so good?” Lester was sweating bullets. “Guys. Stop.” “Oh. Finally!” Emily said. “Here we go. Something close to a rule. Rule Number Six: Bad babies get spanked until they’re good babies.” Everyone threw back their heads and laughed. Everyone but Lester. “What’s this at the end?” Jake pointed down to the bottom. Madison squinted, and held the pamphlet closer to one of the lanterns. “It looks like it’s in Latin.” “Don’t read the Latin!” Lester begged, “Haven’t you guys seen any horror movies, or read any-?” “This isn’t a horror movie,” Emily said. “This is a daycare.” The color drained out of Lester’s face. “It can be both.” “Stop being a fucking baby,” Jake warned. If Emily was concerned, she didn’t show it. “Capre nos, capre.” ******************************************************************************************* Elsewhere in the building, from beneath the floorboards a battered umbrella poked out and unfolded, its canopy blooming like a toxic flower. The eerie blue ghostly figure holding it rose daintily upwards, passing through solid matter unconstrained by the laws of physics. There was no need for her to smooth out her skirt or brush the dirt off her jacket. She did so out of habit more than anything. Immense (but not overly emotional) satisfaction filled her translucent face. “Bad babies need to be put back in their place,” she said to herself. KA-THOOOOOM! *************************************************************************************************** Far removed from the college students, a different gathering was taking place. Men and women wearing lab coats and business casual attire watched monitors eagerly, each one anticipating what artifact might catch the victim’s fascination. “We have a winner!” Gary announced to the grousing crowd of coworkers. “It’s Nanny Windel, ladies and gentlemen!” People groaned like they’d just lost a bet. Gary could barely contain his laughter. “Nanny Windel pulls a ‘W’!” Bald headed with thick rimmed glasses and looking like a bank teller, Gary walked through the assembled crowd to the whiteboard keeping track of everyone’s bet. “Alright, that means congratulations go to maintenance!” There was some low applause before he quickly added “Who share the pot with Ronald the intern.” A single pipsqueak leapt into the air. “YES!” Another co-worker came up and complained. “Wait, that’s not fair I had ‘Phantom Babysitter’, too.” Gary examined the board which had such entries as ‘Were-baby’, ‘MerMommy’, ‘Creepy Twins’, ‘DiaperBot’, and ‘Darleen Lattle’. “Yes you did, Gary said. “You had ‘Phantom Babysitter’. But this is ‘Ghost Nanny’. See? They’re very different monsters. It’s like the difference between zombies and zombie redneck torture family.” He then walked away, seeing no further point in discussing it. “There’s always next year.” Gary went and stood by Steve, his co-producer in tonight’s events. In his early forties, but with a full head of light brown hair, Steve had the demeanor of a kid who had just missed out on tickets to Disney. “Oh man, I’m sorry.” Steve shook his fist. “He had the whistle in his hand.” “I know,” Gary consoled him. “A couple more minutes, who knows what might’ve happened.” “I am never gonna see a MerMommy,” Steve pouted. “Ever.” Gary turned and looked Steve in the eye. “Dude, be thankful. Those things are a trainwreck. They never know when the baby is wet.” Steve sighed and looked at the Ghost Nanny floating through the hallway. “So, Nanny Windel.” “Well she may be an undead anal retentive Mary Poppins rip-off…” Gary started. Steve finished the thought. “But she’s our undead, anal retentive Mary Poppins rip-off.” “With a hundred percent clearance rate.” “True.” That gave the men comfort. Steve relaxed and asked, “So should we call Japan? Tell them to take the rest of the night off?” “Yeah,” Gary chuckled. “What are they gonna do, relax? They practically invented desperation play. They literally don’t know how to relax.” *********************************************************************************** KA-THOOOOOM! The sudden storm outside caused all four teenagers to jump practically out of their socks. The lights flickered off for a moment, just long enough for all four to jump uncomfortably close to one another. Jake opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by a haunting yet familiar melody. “This-is-the-way-we-go-to-school, Go-to-school, Go-to-school, This-is-the-way-we-go-to-school, So-early-in-the-morning.” The voice that sang it seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere all at once. Its haunting melody was a peculiar siren’s call that weaved in and out of the hallways outside the storage room. “We need to leave,” Lester said. “Yesterday.” “In this storm?” Jake said. He pointed out a suddenly rain streaked window. Lightning flashed in the distance. It really was a dark and stormy night. Lester pointed upwards to the ceiling. “Did you not just hear the creepy song?” “That was just a power surge,” Madison explained. “Yeah,” Emily agreed, “Just some old P.A. glitch.” The stoner started all-but sprinting out of the storage room and towards the nearest exit. “Shit!” he said when he slammed up against the door. “Shit! Shit! Shit!” He slammed his fists in anger and frustration. “Fuuuuuuuuck!” A nearby metal garbage can bounced off a window like it was nothing more than balled up paper. “Dude!” Jaked shouted. “Chill out! It’s just rain!” “We’re trapped!” Lester said. Emily shrugged. “Electric doors. Glitched with the lightning strike.” Madison dug her phone out of her pocket. “We’ve still got our cell…” she paused and frowned. “No signal.” “Huh,” Jake said. “Me neither.” He didn’t seem worried though. No one did. “Oh well. Not like we were going anywhere tonight.” He grabbed an empty trash bag and waved for the girls to follow him. “Come on. Let’s make some money.” Lester slumped down to the floor and rested his face in his hands lest he scream. “What did I do to deserve this?” he asked himself. Emily lagged behind. “What’s with you?” “This place is haunted or something,” Lester said. His knees were pulled up to his chest so he was in a fetal position. “There’s gonna be a ghost, or some kind of psycho Chuck-E-Cheese thing, or a portal, or moving toys.” He smacked himself in the forehead. “Why didn’t I see it?” “Daycares aren’t haunted,” Madison stated smugly, pushing her glasses up her nose. “Pretty sure this one is.” Lester was on the verge of tears. “I know how this story ends. We’re not gonna like it.” Jake walked away. “Whatever, dude. Somebody gave you a bad batch of gummies. I’m cleaning up and getting paid.” “Me too,” Madison echoed. Emily spared Lester a last pitying look. “Me too.” ***************************************************************************************** “And the game begins,” Gary said. He pointed to the layout of the ritual site. “We’ve got three runners and a bump on a log and the three are splittin’ up.” Steve furrowed his brow. “Nice, but why is the stoner freaking out? Shouldn’t he be experiencing mild euphoria and decreased cognition due to the gas we’ve been pumping in?” “According to these readings, he is.” Gary said. “He’s just got really baggy pants.” *********************************************************************************************** Madison had to pee and she hadn’t found any sign of a bathroom. It had gotten to the point where the ache in her bladder was distracting her and it was getting harder and harder to think about anything else. It had gotten to the point where she’d dropped her garbage bag and walked through the cluttered hallways without the extra weight. Every classroom she poked her head into seemed devoid of plumbing of any kind. This section was so cluttered that it made the storeroom they’d found earlier seem spacious and organized. Each step was slow and high, lest she step or slip. How did it get like this? It was like a bunch of rowdy tots had been allowed to trash the place and then vanish. “C’mon,” Madison hissed to herself. She poked her head into another classroom and saw nothing but cribs and changing tables…again. “There’s gotta be a pre-k or something. Gotta do potty training sometime!” Oh-dear-what-can-the-matter-be? Dear-dear what can the matter be? Oh-dear-what-can-the-matter-be? Johnny’s-so-long-at-the-fair. Madison’s head whipped around searching for the source of the song. Her body, sadly, didn’t follow. The sudden twisting threw her off balance and caused her to trip over an errant roller skate and then her own feet. She tumbled to the floor, relatively unharmed, but the momentum tore her glasses right off the front of her face. “My glasses!” Madison yelped. She couldn’t see a thing without her glasses! Everything was just a blur to her. Quietly, she crawled around on all fours, groping for her glasses. “Hello child,” a friendly, feminine voice called out to her. “Are you looking for these?” Before Madison could reply, something cold gripped her right hand by the wrist and placed the familiar frame of her glasses back in her hand. “Thank you,” Madison mumbled. Then she realized something about the voice seemed distinctly ‘adult’. She put on the glasses and looked up. “I sincerely appreciate the assistance.” “What was that?” her new savior asked. “Are you using grown up words?” Even with her impaired vision, Madison could make certain things out about the woman standing over her. For example, she wasn’t technically standing as she had no feet. And Madison could read the hallway bulletin board directly through the woman’s translucent body. “No way…” she gasped. KA-THOOM! The lights flickered and flared up with another nearby lightning strike. In that bare instant, Madison saw more than she’d ever wanted to. Rotting flesh, exposed bones, no lips to speak of and a raggedy patched uniform to match. The Nanny- and she was a nanny- looked less like a certain Julie Andrews role, and more like Geoffrey Rush from the pirate movies. Ghosts were real! This old daycare was haunted! Madison was alone! On the bright side, she no longer needed to go to the bathroom… “Naughty baby!” the ghost nanny scolded. “:Good babies wear and use their diapers at all times except when being changed or given a bath!” A spectral hand gestured to the spreading puddle on the floor beneath Madison. “You’re not wearing your diapers!” Drenched in her own pee there, the usually witty and articulate young woman was at a loss for words. “I..I…I…” “And don’t think I didn’t hear you talking like a grown up! “Good babies don’t use grown up words!” Madison’s eyes widened in realization. The rules! She was quoting those stupid rules! This would be terrifying if it weren’t also so ridiculously humiliating. “Nanny Windel?” “That’s right, baby girl! But it’s far too late for introductions!” Madison found herself picked up in the air, a cold dead arm wrapped around her waist and holding her parallel to the floor. “TIME! FOR! DISCIPLINE!” Madison didn’t have to be too brainy to guess what happened next… *********************************************************************************************** THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! Steve and Gary watched the brainy little girl get the daylights spanked out of her. Watched her squirm and kick and beg as a translucent paddle started spanking the maturity right out of her; listened to her scream as each swat to her drenched back side took away more and more of her adult mind. Within minutes the girl’s ability to walk was lost, and her vocabulary down to less than a hundred words. The men watching knew Nanny Windel had finished her job when Nanny took her to one of the nurseries and started changing her. With cold reverence, as if they’d just witnessed a ritual sacrifice, the men bowed their heads, and Steve pulled a lever. One down… ******************************************************************************************** Jake’s stomach growled. The daycare kitchen’s floor was now spotless and shined enough so that he could see his reflection. He looked down at himself. Damn his metabolism. Should’ve carbed up. “What kind of kids did this place used to take care of?” he puzzled, looking at the massive highchairs big enough to sit him. His mind refused to settle on the most obvious answer. It was too silly! Must just be his blood sugar getting too low. “Do-you-know-the-muffin-man? The-muffin-man? The-muffin-man! Do-you-know-the-muffin-man-who-lives-on-Drury Lane? Stupid sound system glitch. Where was it coming from? He walked up to a pantry and flung it open. “What do big babies eat, anyways?” Applesauce as it turned out. “Better than nothin’,” he grunted. He opened a drawer and found more than enough spoons. All plastic. “Whatever.” He ripped open the flimsy tinfoil top and dug in. It wasn’t bad. It wasn’t a burger, but it wasn’t bad. He started pacing, stirring the grainy mush around. KA-THOOM! “Babies can’t feed themselves!” The voice saying it made the inside of his fillings hurt. Jake turned to face it and was so stunned by what he saw that he forgot to swallow and bits of yellow paste dribbled out of his lips. “Good babies crawl!” The thing glided across the floor. It had no reflection. “I’ll make you good!” ******************************************************************************************************** THWACK! THWACK! THWACK! “Another one bites the dust.” Steve and Gary watched the cocky jock get spanked absolutely senseless. A few minutes later he was sitting in a highchair and pushing a load into his crinkly diaper. Nanny pinched his cheeks and started going through walls towards her next victim. “Two down,” Steve said. “Uh-oh…” Gary noticed. “Windel’s going for the virgin.” The virgin was on all fours, crying like they’d already been regressed. “Virgin’s gotta be last and this one’s making it a little too easy.” Steve leaned over and picked up a phone. “Containment, I’m gonna need an ectoplasmic containment field and plenty of thorazine to…” “No wait,” Gary interrupted. “Looks like she changed her mind for now.” Sure enough, the Ghost Nanny paused and about faced; the sounds of screaming more enticing to her than the faint babbles of somebody faking it. Steve leaned back and wiped his brow. “Perfect in practically every way.” “Let’s just hope things stay like that.” ********************************************************************************************************** KA-THOOM! “One-elephant-went-out-to-play Upon-a-spider’s-web-one-day She-had-such-enormous-fun That-she-called-for-another-elephant-to-come” Emily hid in the ballpit, her hand clapped over her mouth to keep herself from screaming. She’d forgotten the pushbroom and went looking. That’s how she stumbled upon a cooing and crying Madison, topless and wearing nothing but a diaper. Emily thought it’d been a joke. It wasn’t, though. Neither was Jake. No way would Jake willingly shit himself for a bizarre practical joke. Running out of the daycare’s kitchen was when she’d seen the ghost. It was also when the ghost saw her. “Good babies crawl,” the thing’s voice was both beautiful and terrifying. “Good babies wear and use their diapers.” What the fuck was this? Emily literally had no words for what was going on. Why would a ghost be saying this kind of shit? Why would a fucking daycare be haunted? Did daycares even have nannies? Shouldn’t she be running from some sort of undead babysitter or something? The absurdity and terror of her situation compounded when an icy cold arm snaked into the ballpit and ripped Emily up into the air. “Naughty baby! Hiding from Nanny!” Emily didn’t have to pee. If she did, she’d be pissing herself right now. The thing dangling her by the armpits was both strangely beautiful or rotting depending on where she focused her eyes. “I’m sorry!” she said. “I’m sorry! Whatever I did, I’m sorry!” “Good babies don’t use grown up words!” The walls rushed by and the ballpit rushed up to greet her as Emily was dropped down to the edge of the ballpit, a terrible weight pinning her, forcing her to bend over. Something like a breeze blew her skirt up exposing her panties. “Please!” Emily begged. “Don’t!” “Bad babies get spanked until they’re good babies.” THWACK! Something hard and flat collided with Emily’s backside. She didn’t know math. Just lost it. She knew numbers. But she couldn’t do anything with them. THWACK! “Eeeeep!” Emily kicked futilely with another swing of a spectral paddle stung her ass. What were numbers? THWACK! “Noooooo!” she cried out, suddenly illiterate. Tears started to run down her cheeks. One part of her brain was crying out as bits of information were excised and removed from her consciousness like tumors. The other part reeled in pain and just wanted it to stop so she could get back to playing. She’d been a bad girl. Not even that, a bad baby. Before the fourth swat came down on her, both parts of her being decided that they wanted nothing more than being a good baby. Anything to make the hurting stop. There was a pause. “Hm?” The sound came from the ghostly woman just behind her. “What are you-?” THWACK! Emily’s ears heard the sound of the paddle hitting something, but her bottom didn’t feel it. The weight was off her too. She could move! In utter bewilderment Emily stood up and turned around only to see Lester holding a wooden paddle and staring down a now diapered and confused ghost. It was an objectively amusing sight, seeing the ghost with nothing but a diaper on below the waist. She no longer floated menacingly in the air, but stood awkwardly on the ground with bare feet that wriggled like worms after a rainstorm. “Bad baby!” Lester said in the exact same tone as the ghost had. “Wandering around without your diaper on! Daddy Lester had to put it on for you!” The ghost scowled. “I’m not a baby, you twat!” “Then why are you wearing a diaper?” The stoner retorted. “Because you snuck up and slid one on me.” Lester slapped the paddle into his open palm menacingly. “Of course I did, little one. Babies can’t put on their own diapers.” “But-...” Lester circled around the frankly confused and bamboozled specter “If you’re not a baby, then why are you getting spanked? Only babies get spanked.” Nanny Windel’s fingers started nervously fidgeting, her arms drawing closer to her waist. “I…I…I…” “Ah-ah-ah,” Lester wagged his finger. “Good babies don’t touch their diapers.” The ghosts hands splayed outward. Combined with her overly wide stance thanks to the giant diaper, she looked more like a starfish than a ghost. THWACK! The ghost poofed into a baby powder scented cloud, and the wooden paddle clattered to the ground out of Lester’s hands. “Lester!” Emily ran forward and wrapped her arms around her gangly friend turned rescuer. He hugged her back, making her feel safe. “You okay?” he asked. He pried her off of him and looked directly at her skirt. “Still potty trained?” Emily nodded. “Yeah. I think so…?” She did a mental run through of the process; panties down, sit, pee, wipe, flush, panties up, wash hands. “Yeah. Definitely.” “Good,” Lester said. Something inside Emily doubted he meant that, but only for a second. She’d just been saved. “Means I got here on time.” Emily pushed back her hair out of her face. “How did you know what to do?” “Circular logic is a trope, but it goes both ways but the advantage goes to the person who invokes it first.” It might have been because the college co-ed no longer knew her three R’s, but none of what Lester had just said made any sense. “Huh?” “Just jump into the ballpit with me.” Without waiting, Lester high stepped over the edge and started wading towards the middle of the plastic orb filled pool. “Come on. I got a hunch.” Confused and having trouble stringing together coherent thoughts, she did as she was bid. “What about Jake and Maddison?” Lester started scooping out armfulls of balls and tossing them over the edge. “Jakey and Maddie?” he echoed her question. “They’re gone. Stuck like that. If they’d been physically regressed there was an off chance that they might just have to grow up all over again. But they got mentalled by that Ghost Nanny. Probably not coming back from that. Most likely scenario is they spend the rest of their lives in a nursing home or something. Maybe the nurses will know about ABDL and get them some cute clothes and diapers but that’s a big maybe.” ABDL? Mentalled? Physically Regressed? None of this made any sense to Emily. It was like Lester was speaking an entirely different language. Not knowing what else to do, she copied her friend and helped him excavate the pit. ‘How do you know all about this stuff?” The stoner didn’t stop digging. “There are websites,” Lester said. “Stories. Pictures. Most people think they’re just internet fetish porn. But it’s way more than that. Investigative journalism? Prophecy? Some reflection of the collective unconscious? Whatever it is I’ve always had a hunch that it was true. This just proves it.” “This is why you came with us?” Emily. “To prove your conspiracy theories?” The pair neared the bottom. “I mean…” Lester paused. “Kinda? I didn’t really think this would happen. Just figured I could make some cash and get some ideas about posts on a message board or something. Then the storage room happened and I started connecting the dots.” The ballpit was finally empty enough that they could see a trap door. Lester opened it up and dropped down into what Emily could only describe as a glass walled elevator. “I did try to warn you.” That’s right, he kind of did. Emily followed and dropped down while Lester messed with some wiring. It was better than staying behind having to take care of Jake and Maddison. “How’d you know this would be here?” she asked. Lester smiled. “Come on. Never heard the one about a kid getting lost in a ballpit? Of course there was a trapdoor. AR Traps are too cheeky for their own good most of the time.” Emily let out a polite laugh; the kind people did when they didn’t get the joke. It only made her feel more childish. “How’d you find out about all this stuff?” Lester sparked a couple of wires together and blushed. “I was looking for internet fetish porn.” And down they went. ***************************************************************************************** Mission control was at red alert. People were panicking. Nothing like this had ever happened before. Technicians were scrambling, security was gearing up, and Steve was really regretting that he’d hit the tequila as quickly as he did. “Yeah, I know they’re in the elevator!” he shouted into his phone. “No! Don’t regress them both! Order matters! You know that! Well yeah, if you regress one go for the other. They both already know too much. Both of them need to spend the rest of their lives with their heads empty and their diapers full!” He paused, frowning through the tequila haze. “Kill them? What are we, monsters?” Gary was pouring over all the available data while one of the gals from tech searched the internet. “I found him, sir!” She pointed to a profile picture on a fetish site. He readjusted his glasses and pronounced the screen name phonetically. “Ay-Bee-Dee-El-Baby-Daddy-four-twenty-sixty-nine-eight-zero-zero-eight-equal sign-equal sign- Dee?” He cringed at having to read it. “That’s a terrible screen name!” More to the point, Gary added, “And he never should have been selected for this! He knows too much! It hardly ever works if they know the tropes!” The technician clicked deeper into the stoner’s profile. “Sir, look at this.” Gary felt a thin line of hope. He waved Steve over. “Are you seeing what I’m seeing? Notice a pattern?” Indeed Steve did. Steve got back on the phone. “Inform the director. Follow the protocol, but if this doesn’t work, we’ve got one last hail mary.” ********************************************************************************************** It was dark outside the box at first. That was a mercy as far as the college students were concerned. The mercy didn’t last long. They were moving. Emily could feel that much through the floor, the humming micro vibrations. It came in little starts and stops, and jolts. Unlike most elevators, the pair could see through three of the walls. Based on the slight rocking sensation, Emily guessed they weren’t just going down but also forward and back and sideways and around. They were on a track-a complex conveyor belt-and every time they stopped, they got a peek inside another box. “WAAAAAAH!” A giant, obese, fleshy, blob of a human wearing a sagging white diaper pressed itself up against the glass. It was in its own box, its own moving cell, but it didn’t make Emily feel any safer. “WAAAAAAAH!” “That’s a really big baby,” Lester commented with an air of cold detached authority. “Lot less cute when they’re scaled up to seven feet.” That was an understatement. Emily took a step back. “What does it do?” “If I had to guess,” Lester said, “It bites you and you turn into one. Werebaby? Babpire? Same difference.” Something wispy and smoke-like pressed itself up against an adjacent wall. Emily knew it would smell like lavender and piss just from looking at it. “Wsssssshhh!” it hissed through the walls. Why weren’t these damn things soundproofed? Emily pressed herself into Lester, his body the only thing that felt safe in the moment. “I think it’s saying wish,” Lester remarked. “Some kind of diaper genie? Thought that one would be prettier. Guess they went with Wishmaster or something.” She was at a slaughterhouse dressed as a cow. He was at an aquarium admiring the sharks. In another cell, two little girls with skin like porcelain held hands, staring at the pair. “Don’t play dress up with them.” The Cenobite wearing a rubber apron was the first one to stump Lester, yet it had nothing to do with identification. “Demon Mommy. Makes the Ghost Nanny look gentle.” The puzzle box resting in its hands was identical to the one in the storage area. “Why are there so many?” he wondered. “Almost any one of these could take most people.” Emily knew. “They need us to be bad babies,” she whispered. “They need an excuse to punish us. So they can say we deserved it…that we had it coming.” Hearing that truth come out of her own mouth made Emily launch into the biggest tantrum in her young life. Diaper Bot. Living Doll Granny Witch. Maternal Alien. None of the ludicrous horrors beneath the ground caused her scream to abate until she’d gotten it well out of her system. ************************************************************************************************* DING! The guard at the elevator doors didn’t get a word out. Lester shoved a pacifier directly into his mouth and the man went limp. “Stocked up before I came to the rescue,” Lester explained. The college kids stepped out of the elevator and into, surprisingly enough, an empty and sterile passageway. One each side was a row of elevators like the one they’d existed, and a single security booth betwixt them. “This…is not what I expected,” Emily said. “Me neither,” Lester admitted. “I was thinking more pastel. Maybe ironic smiley faces or something.” TZZZZZZZZICK! Static crackling filled the hallway. “You shouldn’t be here,” A voice boomed over unseen speakers. Neither Lester nor Emily had heard it before. They could only look up towards the ceiling and off into the middle distance, the way lost children do when searching for a parent. “This should have gone differently. Ended more quickly.” It was a woman. Definitely a woman. Late forties, early fifties. Old enough to be their mom. “I can only imagine your pain and confusion. But know this: What’s happening to you is part of something bigger, something older than anything known.” She sounded sincere, too. Whomever this was, believed every word that was being broadcast out. The lecture was accompanied by the sound of clicking heels en masse. Lester and Emily were alone, but soon they wouldn’t be. “You’ve seen impossible things,” the woman on the P.A. system went on. “An army of non-consensual, dominating, caregivers. Monster that would give Freud wet dreams and nightmares all at once. But they are nothing compared to what came before what lies below.” Lester grabbed Emily’s hand and dragged her into the security booth. “What’s she talking about?” Emily asked. “No clue this time.” The sound of footsteps grew thunderous while the woman’s voice droned on. “It’s our task to placate the ancient ones, as it’s yours to be offered up to them. Forgive us, and let us get it over with.” “Come here sweetie!” “Come to Momma!” “Who’s my little sugar lump! You are! Yes you are!” “Time for your nap!” Cooing motherese rang out like bullets from machine guns as a full squad of Professional Mommy Dommes circled the corner and entered the corridor, all armed with diaper bags, restraints, and syringes. They were going for a rush job. “Shit,” Lester cursed. “What do we do?” It was Emily who saw the button: The big, shiny, red, button. DING! ******************************************************************************************************** Chaos erupted in the Mission Control compound. Men and women were dropping left and right. The monitors broadcast the chaos. Orderlies were restraining victims into straight jackets over diapers so thick that they’d only need to be changed once a day. Mad scientists cackled with glee as they zapped people with age regression rays, leaving them as squalling infants in a puddle of their own clothes. Gargantuan storks snatched people up in bundles, taking them far away to lands best not spoken of. A number of helpless interns were forced on their hands and knees, crying with their pants down and glass thermometers jammed up their rectums; the temperature of each one reading ‘baby’. A security guard stood with his nose in the corner and his hands on top of his head, his new schoolboy uniform bulging and sagging with a loaded diaper. A walking changing table with mechanical arms and what appeared to be a salon hair dryer was busily dragging people onto it and dressing them in more ‘suitable’ attire while it wiped their bottoms and brains simultaneously. Lots of screaming. Lots of crying. Lots of begging. Lots and lots of diapers. Steve lay on the floor, out breath from whatever knocked down the door into the control room. Slithering over to him looked like the creature from the black lagoon cosplaying as Ariel. In the monster’s head was a dripping wet seaweed nappy. “OH COME ON!” ******************************************************************************************* Far away- but not far enough- from the chaos they’d created, Emily and Lester ventured out onto an open bridge dangling over a pit. The moon above them with infinite darkness below, if not for the carvings in the walls and the bedlam they’d just escaped, they might have allowed themselves to believe they’d escaped their tormentors’ demesne. “Where the fuck are we?” Emily asked, proud that she could still curse now that she thought about it. “We are very much in uncharted territory right now, baby girl.” Lester said. Emily’s nose wrinkled. She didn’t like being called that, least of all by Lester. “What’s the point of all this?” she wondered, trying to change the subject. “It’s like you said,” Lester replied. “It’s punishment.” Being turned into a drooling idiot for goofing off in a storage room seemed disproportionately cruel. “For what, though?” “For having power you’ll never be ready for,” came the reply. From the other end of the chamber, a woman in a gray pantsuit walked out to meet them. From her voice, Lester and Emily knew she was the one who had lectured them earlier. “It’s different in every culture,” the director explained. “And it’s changed over the years. For some it’s a parent being re-raised by their child. Other times it’s an unfaithful lover being taught a lesson in impulse control. Everyone is meant to grow old. Not everyone can be allowed to grow up.” “And us?” Emily asked. The director gestured to the carvings. The outlines were simple, but if Emily were to label them, she’d have thought of them as a wizard, a knight, a jester, and a maiden respectively. The director gave them their proper titles. “The Scholar; smart but arrogant. The Athlete; strong but brash. The Fool; beloved but naive.” Close enough. “All are forced back into the cradle forever by whatever surrogate they’ve summoned. Leaving the last to regress or mature as fate decides: The Virgin.” “Me?” Emily almost laughed. “A virgin?” The older woman didn’t even smile. “Not you, dear. Him. You’re the Fool.” “Hey!” Lester barked. “You don’t gotta tell everybody.” Emily ignored him. “What if you don’t pull it off?” “They rise.” Almost reverently, the director indicated the black morass below. A burning desire to know filled Emily’s almost childlike brain. “Who does? Who’s beneath us?” “The ancient ones. The True Adults. As long as they accept our sacrifice they remain below, content to let us grow up. But the other rituals have all failed.” The director leveled an accusing finger at Emily. “The sun is coming up in eight minutes. If you’re an adult when it does, none of us will be.” “Fuck you,” Lester snarled. “If we have to be stuck shitting our pants for the rest of our lives, then you do, too.” “Not you,” the older woman said. “Just her.” Lester’s eyebrows shot up. “Yeah?” “Lester!” “Sorry, Emily,” Lester said. He pulled her closer to him, her back to his chest and his arm wrapped around her throat. “I’ll take real good care of you.” The former rich girl struggled in the poser Daddy’s grip, but it was no use. “If this is where we’ve gotten as a society, maybe it’s time for a change!” she yelped. ‘Change’ was a poor choice of words. The director was already unfolding a diaper for Emily. “We’re talking about the permanent regression of every human soul on the planet. Including you. They let us grow up once. They won’t let it happen again.” Lester was using his free hand to work Emily’s skirt and panties back down to her ankles. “You’re gonna be so cute, all pamped up,” he whispered. “I’m finally gonna get be a real Daddy!.” Overcome with revulsion, Emily did what most any young woman would do. Her head rocked back into the creeper’s nose and her fist swung down into his balls. Little did she realize just how close to the edge Lester was. The director dropped the diaper she’d been fluffing and reached out for Lester. “NO!” It was too late. If there was a bottom to that pit, it was too deep for the sound to reach Emily’s ears. “You fool! Do you have any idea what you’ve done? You’ve ruined everything.” The entire world shuddered. Both women fell to the floor. Emily, in particular, landed on her backside. A low, rumbling moan roared out from beneath them and Emily swore she heard something that vaguely sounded like “Naughty, naughty!”. Strangely enough, Emily didn’t care. If she was going to end up like Jakey and Maddie, she might as well take everyone else down with her. At least Lester wouldn’t get what he wanted. Did that make her immature? Whatever. Why did her underwear feel like it was getting thicker? “NAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAUGHTY!” ************************************************************************************************** The new daycare workers groaned about how they couldn’t get through the morning without their morning coffee. Thousands of years of dreamless slumber was one heck of a long weekend, but these kiddos wouldn’t take care of themselves. Little Emily crinkled around the daycare that morning, babbling to herself. Ever hungry, Jakey was putting everything in his mouth, thumbs and toes included. Madison was hoisted off the changing table, being declared clean just before the wetness indicator on her diaper turned partially blue. Not that Emily was one to talk. Literally speaking, no one was. Talking was just not what humans did. As a people the darlings were just too young for it. Emily stopped in her tracks. Something was wrong, but the girl just wasn’t quite sure. Just. Not. There! Whatever it was, the thought left Emily’s brain as quickly as something else had entered her diaper, causing it to balloon out behind her. A True Adult clicked its tongue and pulled back the waistband of her diaper, making her giggle and gurgle at the attention. Emily was lifted up as high as high could be, carried over to the nearest changing table. The sound of tapes being ripped off her diaper’s front landing zone sounding like a kind of cannon. She gazed out at all of her little friends and cooed while her ankles were crossed and her legs lifted into the air. There were her friends Jakey and Maddie, and several billion other humans that needed taking care of. But no Lester

A Naptime on Elm Street. (A Novelization of the Oskosh award winning ABDL Horror Film of the Same Name) Deep in the bowels of the Daycare, down in the basement where Little Ones dared not come and play for fear of the dark and ghosts; two hands worked slowly and methodically. Mustn’t forget a thing. Not a thing. It would be time soon. The old carpet bag, green and red stripes faded and dingy looking from years of disuse was popped open. Empty inside; just like the person opening it. Soon though, both would be filled; first, the bag. Spare clothes came first; onesies mostly. Onesies were an outfit all by themselves, no matching or coordination required. Keep the Little Ones warm and cover what little modesty they had. They went in the bottom precisely because if she did her job well enough, she wouldn’t need a spare change of clothes. Little Ones did love to make a mess though… Better safe than sorry. Next came toys and trinkets. Nothing major. Nothing elaborate. Nothing that lit up or required batteries. None of the hulking plastic monstrosities that were called play sets that littered the Daycare’s basement. Rattles. Plastic Keys. Teething Rings. Pacifiers, too. Those all went in. Cute little shiny things...or things that had once been shiny...to keep a Little One occupied for a precious few minutes. A bottle was wedged in for good measure. Cap on. No spills allowed. Next came the wipes. Practically a wonder tool wipes were. There was very little that couldn’t be cleaned up with a few judicious uses of a wipe. Finally came the diapers. Sweet smelling, perfumed, folded, crisp and crinkling. They got the top spot right next to the wipes. Things that were guaranteed to be used needed to be easily on hand. And it wouldn’t be much of a diaper bag without diapers, would it? As for the paddle: That would be for the other hand, wouldn’t it? A small, thin smile, blossomed over shadowed lips. It was the smile of satisfaction. Soon. Soon the little ones would come and play; they would need so much caring for. Then it would be time to work. ************************************************************************************************* Tina was alone. Alone and nowhere. It didn’t occur to her in that moment how impossible that was. By definition, space and time were both facets of existence. If one existed, they had to be somewhere even if they didn’t know where that somewhere was. Only the dead and the fictional could exist in a void. None of that came to Tina, though. For all she knew or cared, she was in a blank void as she heard the baby crying. Her landscape a literal blank slate. No...not crying. The baby wasn’t crying. She was screaming. A baby girl’s scream; caught somewhere between terror and tantrum. Despite being just eighteen and an only child Tina found it oddly familiar. Nostalgic without the good feelings. Deja vu. Pulse picking up she wandered ahead, her long white nightgown fluttering in a non-existent breeze as her legs pumped. In front of her was a broken down hallway. Tight walls filled with chipped and scraped off paint. Originally- Tina somehow knew even though she’d never asked- the dim yellow paint on the walls had been bright and cheery. It had been the color of sunshine. Time and darkness; especially darkness; had worn away at the facade. Now the yellow paint- what remained-was the color of sickness. Of jaundice. Of death. Everything was scarier in the dark. Beneath her silken nightie, Tina’s bare feet plodded on. The carpet was threadbare and worn in more places than not. The very bottom fibers still persisted, like a sandpaper rash. A few spots didn’t even have that much, leaving the cold smooth cement of the foundation exposed. As she half ran, and half jogged, trying to understand how she’d ended up here; Tina’s toes curled every time they touched the rare bit of carpet that had struggled on intact. Behind her? Behind her was nothing but a bright blank canvas of nothingness. She couldn’t go there; though the exact “why” wouldn’t come to her. Sometimes things just worked that way…. A little girl lost in the woods, Tina ran down the hallway, hearing the random clacking of plastic on plastic; the sounds of playtime. She turned in a circle, pivoting on frightened feet; as if looking behind her might reveal a door, or stairwell, or some other escape from this strange place that she couldn’t remember coming to. “tina.” Perhaps if she ran fast enough, Tina thought, she might escape this realm of concrete and decay. A shuttle escaping the bonds of gravity. It didn’t make sense, but sometimes that’s just how things were. “tina.” The voice was muffled, but she’d heard it that time. Unfamiliar. Beckoning from the shadows. Laughing. Tina turned back around towards the light. Even a blank canvas of nothingness might be better than what lay ahead in the dark. Impossible. With her meandering gait, she’d only gone a dozen or so steps, yet the other end of the hallway seemed so much further away. Impossible, but true. The laughter grew louder; more confident. Knowing laughter. Condescending. An adult watching a child struggle, their hand caught in a cookie jar that they just couldn’t get out of. The laughter grew louder as Tina stayed put; erupting into a full blown cackle as Tina’s heart started to pound. This was wrong. She wasn’t supposed to be here... “WAAAAH!” The cry of a baby girl again! Such a familiar cry! The blink of an eye, and Tina saw that it wasn’t a child crying, but a sheep bleating. A sheep. Like what she pretended to count until she drifted off. Like the night light she used to have all the way until middle school when she’d decided it was time to put away childish things and just go to sleep in the dark. It’s white wool was cast in pitch black by the shadows as it skittered away, running for its life. “BAAAAH!” “HEEE-HEEEE-HEEE-HEEE-HEEEE!” Tina ran off to the side, neither towards the sheep nor the bright light at the end of the hallway. It didn’t matter that there hadn’t been a hallway or door for her to exit. It didn’t matter that she shouldn’t have been able to run; that there was no room in that wretched hallway. All that mattered was that she ran. She ran, and it was away from the knowing, witch like cackling. That’s just how things were… The world changed again. No longer a hallway, but a playground. Blackness above her, there was no sky. Blackness beneath her, there was no ground. But directly beneath her feet was the blue steel meshed floor of an elevated walkway so common at playgrounds and parks. Steel was not nearly so stainless, as the soles of her feet grazed by bits of rust. Hands trembling, she instinctively grabbed onto the safety bars at the edges, rather like the bars of a crib. The air, such as it was, stank of stale urine; an accident that had long dried and never been properly cleaned up. Someone had peed in the ballpit. Surrounding her were plastic tubes and slides jutting out at impossible angles; a veritable jungle of plastic trunks and styrofoam noddle vines growing thicker with every step she dared to take. And all with the hollow thunks and muted skids, and slapping patters of tiny hands and knees crawling and rolling and sliding through them. No laughter though. No mirth. Just the unsteady non-rhythm of a playground’s blood being pumped through hollow plastic arteries. She wasn’t supposed to be here… A movement in the dark! Tina ran! Past a built in rung ladder she sprinted. No going up! She wanted to get out, not up! Up would only lead back down. Ladders only went to chutes! She looked over her shoulder at the sailor’s wheel! She could spin that wheel as much as she loved and would get nothing but the howling and screeching of badly oiled joints. She would go nowhere. She would win no prizes. Out! Had to get out! She was lost! Lost on the playground! Just like long ago when… No! Don’t think about it, Tina. Just get out! Keep moving! Rounding the corner, Tina looked over the edge. Monkey bars, and a gymnasts rings dangled on the next section over, the ground still invisible in obsidian. She was high! So high off the ground that she couldn’t see it! Keep moving. Must keep moving. Come, the monkey bars seemed to beckon her. Come down to our level. Swing from us and dangle your feet out over the abyss. Get tangled up in the ropes and nets and chains and rings. Deep, knowing, feminine laughter accompanied the shadow that flitted below Tina. It knew what she thought. It knew what she imagined. It knew what she heard with only her heart; her heart that was beating faster and faster by the second. Another corner. Another turn in a maze that made no sense. Ladders and struts that went nowhere. Fireman’s poles that plummeted downwards into emptiness. Whirligigs and pinwheels that spun on their own. And just Tina in her nightgown… Tina shut out what little light there was in her life and stepped through the shadowy tunnel. Her breath caught in her throat as she felt the plastic give a bit beneath her weight. Where was the light coming from anyways? To say that Tina was brave implied like she was afraid and faced the danger anyway. This was simply not true. Even in this maze of unending steel twisting and turning, Tina felt she had only one choice but to go forward. Even with all the topsy turvey and movement and sound and winding and crisscrossing of the paths; Tina had never, in effect, left that hallway. Not really. Rrrrrrrring! A chime! A bell! The start of something! School? A race? Tina spun around towards the metal dinging. The sound of nails on a chalkboard! Behind her! Another blink, and Tina stood in front of a curtain; worn and moth eaten like everything else in this place! A withered, wizened hand peeked from behind the curtain and began to peel it back. Tina didn’t wait to see who was behind it. Tina ran. Tina sprinted. She didn’t see the old straw sunhat with desiccated flowers poking out from the brim. And yet... And yet Tina didn’t get far. She’d walked only a dozen or so steps before and somehow traveled over a hundred yards. Now as she ran for her life, those same legs were carrying her less than a dozen strides. The air, still thick with the scent of old ammonia, seemed to constrict her; the ground conspired against her like a treadmill on reverse! Tina was running as fast as she could, but her world crawled by at a leisurely pace. Panting just to keep her breath and her legs pumping, Tina didn’t scream. She couldn’t. Too out of breath. The most she could do was tremble and mewl as the person...the thing with the red and green bag creeped along up to her. She didn’t question why. Sometimes things were just like that… Tina looked back over her shoulder. She shouldn’t have done so. A dirty brown sunhat filled with dead flowers and a matching ankle skirt. A dingy off-white victorian ruffle blouse, that contrasted with gray-black oxford block heels. And a green and red bowtie that coordinated perfectly with it’s partner bag. A bag in one hand, and a rough, splintered paddle in the other; dragging and scraping the floor as she walked... A weak, muted squeak managed to leak out from Tina’s throat, just as she rounded the corner. Must escape! Must escape! Too late, Tina realized she was trapped. A dead end. A criss crossing lattice blocked her way; a giant baby gate! More impossibilities! This was the way she had come, wasn’t it? Frustration and adrenaline bubbled over to unsilence her terror in one high pitched scream. “AAAAAAAAAH!” It was the bleating of sheep. The cry of a baby girl. And it was indistinguishable from Tina’s own wail. And then silence. Tina breathed. And listened. Nothing. No footsteps. No shadows cast of sun hats or paddles. Behind her! A hand on her shoulder! Another reaching between her legs! “LET’S CHECK YOUR DIA-!” *********************************************************************************************************** Tina shot bolt upright in her bed; her face and dirty blonde hair drenched in tears and sweat. A knock on the door, and her mother entered. “You okay, Tina?” It was late. No trace of sunshine, no buzz of late night television. Mom was wearing her robe which she only put on when craving (or fetching) a two A.M. snack. “Just a dream, Mom.” Muscles tight. Breath short. But at least her voice was calm. Just a dream. Just a dream. She was home. In bed. Like she should have been. Her mom stepped into the room and turned on the lights. “Some dream, judging from that.” Tina followed her mother’s gaze down to her legs. It wasn’t just her face that was soaked, and it wasn’t sweat that her legs were soaking in. Sweat didn’t smell like that, nor did it make the sheets quite so cold and clammy on an otherwise crisp fall night. She sat there, paralyzed by embarrassment and leftover shock from the bizarre dream she’d awoken from; stupidly peeling the sheets from her legs and off her, as if it might somehow undo the accident she’d just had. Mom’s boyfriend, clad in a wife beater and boxers (a wardrobe not that much different than what he wore during the day) leaned in. “Are you coming back to the sack or what?” he grumbled impatiently. Mom gently shoved him away. He looked at Tina, regarded her for a moment, and went back out into the hall. At least he had the decency not to comment further about her soaked mattress and wet sheets. Either that or he was too drunk to notice. Tina’s mom looked back to her. “Tina, hun, you either gotta stop drinking so much before bed or stop that kind of dreamin’.” She glanced to the hallway. “One or the other.” And with that, she closed the door, allowing Tina some much needed privacy. Tina got out of bed and stripped the sheets from her bed. Her nightgown was just as ruined. They all went together in a giant pile. She’d stuff these into the washing machine, grab the stain remover and febreeze from the laundry room, and try to get back to sleep with some fresh sheets after a quick shower. But first she went over to her sock drawer and dug out the old sheep night light she’d never quite had the heart to get rid of. Just in case…. *********************************************************************************************************** Ten, nine, better watch your behind. Eight, seven, gonna learn your lesson. Six, five, never gonna thrive. Four, three, in your pants you pee. Two, one, Nanny says you’re done…. -A traditional jump rope song passed down from kid generation to kid generation since time immemorial. ************************************************************************************************************* Tina couldn’t stop talking about it the next morning all the way to school. “And even after I woke up it was like she was still there, watching me.” She shook her head. “Sounds like a real boogeyman,” her best friend, Nancy said. “Like that old jump rope song: Ten, nine, better watch your behind.” They piled out of Glenn’s car. Glenn was Nancy’s boyfriend, and Tina being Nancy’s bestie got to ride in the back on the way to school. Seniors were allowed to drive to school and park their cars in the parking lot. That meant that they didn’t have to worry about catching a bothersome school bus like the kiddies. It also meant they could sleep in a little later. There were perks to being a senior. Not that it mattered. “I’ve been having bad dreams too,” Nancy added; a note of commiseration in her voice “Even after I got changed into fresh sheets, I couldn’t go back to sleep,” Tina confessed. Tina cocked an eyebrow as they walked. “Fresh sheets? Do you mean…?” “Awwww,” Rod creeped up from behind, “did you wet the bed, baby?” He laughed. No one else did. Rod was a jerk that didn’t realize how sleazy his slicked back hair looked or how Axe Body Spray was no substitute for a good shower. “Don’t feel bad, I have wet dreams, too.” As if to drive the point home, he pumped his fist up and down. Tina and Rod were...complicated. If he wasn’t such a good lay, they might not be dating off. She could have ignored him, just then, she supposed, let him walk with them, but she just did not have time for his shit today. Not after last night. “Jizzing in your pants would require you to have balls,” Tina quipped, barely looking back at him. Something sparked in Rod’s eyes. “Yeah...yeah...well...fuck you too!” Rod was that special kind of masculine that was neither quick witted nor thick skinned. He broke off from the trio and walked away, and would likely invent a comeback after. Nancy and Glenn laughed quietly, but otherwise didn’t engage. They’d seen this scene play out too many times. Tina looked back over her shoulder to make sure her kinda sorta beau was well and gone. “Rod says the sweetest things,” she said. “Yeah. Real keeper, there.” Nancy replied sarcastically. They came to a stop just outside of school. “So anyway,” she asked, “what did you dream about?” Misery loved company. At least she wasn’t the only one tossing and turning at night. Nancy just said, “It was just a bad dream, okay, that’s it. That’s all they are.” Glenn, his arm draped over Nancy like a coat, spoke up. “Yeah, and next time you’re having a bad dream just remind yourself that it’s just a dream and you’ll wake right up. That’s how it works for me, anyways.” The bell chimed it’s dull electronic tone, signalling the beginning of yet another day of educational drudgery. Glenn and Nancy kissed goodbye, and Glenn jogged ahead of glass. Nancy and Tina had English first period; near the front entrance. Glenn had math near the back of the building. Something just then occurred to Tina. “Hey!” she called after Glenn. “Did you have a nightmare too?” Tina filed that idea away and turned back to Nancy. “Maybe we’re gonna have a big earthquake or something. They say that weird things happen just before.” Nancy didn’t laugh, but she did smile a bit. Arm and arm the two went to face the perils of dead poets and playwrights. Little did they know it would be the last time they’d walk into school together... ************************************************************************************************************ “Thanks for staying with me here, tonight,” Tina told her friends. “When my Mom told me she was taking off to Vegas with her boyfriend, I kinda freaked.” She and Nancy sat on the couch, easing into each other, while Glenn sat on the floor, texting away on his phone. “Glenn and Nancy to the rescue,” Nancy assured her. “We got your back.” All day, the dream about the playground and the shadowy figure stalking her had been with her. In some ways she’d never really woken up. “It’s so cool that your mom let you stay the night, Glenn.” “Yeah,” Glenn said. “About that…” Nancy laughed a little bit. Tina threw him a questioning look. “So, I’ve got this cousin who lives by the airport,” he explained. “Mom’s cool if I hang out with him. As far as she knows, I’m with him.” “But what if she tries to track your phone?” Tina asked. “That’s what I'm working on. I think I just downloaded an app that disables that one. Hold up…” Tina leaned forward and watched as Glenn texted. Nancy just hid her face in her hand and quietly shook her head. “Here...at...Barry’s…” Glenn read his text as he typed it. “Noisy...as...hell...but...fun…” Glenn looked up from his phone to the girls, a cocky little smirk on his lips. “I think she believes it.” He looked down and grinned. “And the app is working!” He pumped his elbow in a bit of celebration. His glee didn’t last long. “She wants me to send a picture of me and Barry right now! FUCK!” He turned off his phone. “I’m...gonna have to do some explaining...hope Barry can cover for me.” “Busted!” Nancy laughed. Glenn just shrugged. “Worth it. I’ll probably get chewed out. I’ve been chewed out before.” More laughter, this time from all three. “See?” Nancy said. “I told you you’d feel better with some friends around.” “Yeah,” Tina said. But the moment passed. “It’s just that all day, I keep thinking about this lady and her weird face, and thinking of that big paddle.” Something akin to confusion and suspicion flashed in Nancy’s eyes. “Paddle?” Silently, Tina nodded. “That’s so weird that you say that,” Nancy said. “That makes me remember the dream I had last night!” Unlike Tina, Nancy sounded lighter for saying it. As if the two girls having the same nightmare was mildly amusing instead of foreboding. Tina sat up a little straighter. “What did you dream?” “I dreamt about a lady with a grody green and red bag. She looked like one of the nannies on T.V., but creepier.” Neither one saw the look on Glenn’s face. It was as if he was hearing about his own troubled sleep. “What about the paddle?” Tina pressed. Nancy bit her lip in thought. “Oh yeah, she had a paddle. It was like one of those things you see in hazing or like BDSM stuff, I guess, but it was really rough. Homemade, and splintered at parts. She’d drag it along the ground or thump it on things. It looked like something she made herself.” Nancy kept her tone upbeat. It was just a stupid dream after all. “She kept dragging along the floor and it made this sound like kghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” She made the back of her tongue go up against the roof of her mouth and exhaled. Done fast it would have sounded like a poor impression of walkie talkie static. Done slowly, it was eerily similar to the quiet groaning of heavy wood dragging across the floor. “Nancy,” Tina whispered. “You dreamed about the same freak I did.” Glenn came to join them. “That’s impossible.” KGHHH…. The trio looked out the window into the darkness. “What was that?” Tina asked. Glenn stood up. “Nothing…” KGHHH… “I heard it too,” Nancy said. The three young adults stood up and cautiously opened the side door into Tina’s backyard. Glenn was the first out into the darkness. “Anybody there?” The girls came out, still staying just a few steps from the door. “Hello?” Glenn repeated. Still there was no answer. “I’m gonna kick your ass…!” If anyone was listening, they didn’t believe Glenn’s threat. Even Glenn, wholesome All-American type that he looked didn’t sound like he believed it. “Here kitty kitty kitty!” Still nothing. Nancy’s boyfriend turned around and started walking back towards the house. “Probably a racoon or someth…” The shadow that enveloped Glenn and brought him to the ground was fast, and strong. Bigger than Glenn and meaner. And reeking of Axe. “Boom!” Rod said as he climbed off of Glenn. “What a tackle! What a sack!” Ignoring Glenn he sauntered up to Tina, holding the old broken table leg left nearly forgotten in Tina’s garage. “Kinda creepy huh? The way it scrapes across the patio.” He let it drop clunk into the grass. “You should have seen his face,” Rod laughed thumbing over to the other boy. “YoU sHoUlDa SeEn HiS fAcE,” Glenn parroted back, mockingly. Immediately the two were in each other’s face, chests puffed out and chins held high. Tina grabbed her boyfriend by the elbow. Time to diffuse the situation. “We’re having a sleepover. Girls only. Glenn was just leaving.” Rod backed away but clearly wasn’t buying it. “Your Mom home?” “Of course.” Tina lied. “What are you doing here.” Rod pivoted to her. “I came to make up. Came to say I’m sorry.” His grin was nothing short of wolfish. He saw right through her. He always did. And the look on his face told her that the blood was quickly going down south. “You guys having an orgy?” “Just keeping me company,” Tina said. Already she was letting herself be led back into her house. Already, she was starting to relax and tense up in all the right places. Rod had that effect on her. It might be nice to have a creep of her own to protect her from the lady in her nightmares… “Hey,” Glenn called out. He froze when Rod turned around. “Relax you two. We’ll get her mother’s bed. You two can have the rest,” then ducked out of sight. “Seriously,” Tina said, her petite blonde frame still in the doorway. “Stay. You make me feel safe. Don’t leave me here with this luuuunaaatic!” Tina’s last word was cut off by a fit of giggles as Rod returned and started to cart her off to her mother’s California King. Left alone, Glenn realized just how pretty Nancy looked in the moonlight, and how much better she smelled than Tina’s creeper of a fuck buddy. “Glenn, no.” Nancy pushed him away when he leaned in for a little fun. “Not tonight. We’re here for Tina.” She ran her hand through her curly brown hair. Glenn felt his attitude deflate with his dick. “Why? Who cares? It’s just a bad dream.” “Because we’re her friends,” Nancy said. “She needs us. We gotta be mature and not fuck around.” ********************************************************************************************************* Glenn laid there in the dark of Tina’s living room. The couch made a poor bed and the living room a poor bedroom. He could hear Tina and Rod going at it through the walls. Neither were quiet about it. Blue balled beyond belief, Glenn could only sulk at the soundtrack to the two horny highschoolers getting it on. Meanwhile, he knew Nancy, pure and mature as ever, slept in Tina’s room. “Maturity sucks.” ************************************************************************************************************ Nancy slept in Tina’s bed, blissfully unaware of the sounds coming from the other bedroom. But she was not blissful otherwise. Nor was she unaware. Not totally. Eyes closed, and breath steady, Nancy did not dream. But she did have the peculiar feeling that something, or someone was watching her. She didn’t hear the wall above the headboard creek and moan as it warped. She didn’t see it become thin like puddy and mold itself into a humanoid shape. She didn’t feel the warmth of another not-quite-body looking down at her, bending over, reaching out like a woman readying to scoop her baby out of a crib…. When she rolled over and opened her eyes, the wall was completely normal. Nothing out of the ordinary. Over the side of the bed, Nancy noticed a little lamb nightlight, lying there on the floor. She hadn’t seen this in years. She would have thought Tina tossed this away with her training bras, but her old friend never had outgrown her fear of the dark. Maybe that’s why she still had a waterproof sheet on the mattress. Or maybe that’s why her bathroom smelled faintly of baby powder. Maybe this bedwetting thing was more persistent than Tina was hinting at; the bad dreams just a justification. Nancy took a moment and plugged the old night light in. Just in case. She took a moment to touch and push against the wall, too; confirming that it was solid. Just in case. She gave it a few quiet knocks. Just in case. *********************************************************************************************************** PLINK! Tina awoke in her mother’s bed, the sound of pebbles hitting glass making her jump. She looked over to Rod; still sound asleep and snoring. Rod was practically a machine in the sack, and orgasming was his off button. It’s one of the things she liked about him, actually. Sometimes a good lay really is what a body and a troubled mind needed. It has also been nice, hearing Rod confess he’d been having nightmares. “What? Guys can have bad dreams too. You don’t have the market cornered.” He gave her a final kiss, before “No more bad dreams for either of us now.” That was about as emotional and open as Rod could get. In a way, Tina had been proud of him; the emotionally stunted mal-adjusted idiot. PLINK! Another pebble, this one harder, stopped Tina from rolling over and rejoining her boyfriend in unconsciousness. Definitely a pebble, too. There were nor branches from nearby trees long enough to scrape at the glass. “Rod?” she tried shaking her boyfriend awake. All she got was snoring for her trouble. PLINK! PLINK! She rolled back towards the window and started to sit up. “tinaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!” It was a whisper, a nagging bit of paranoia scratching at her brain. A sound carried by fear more than air. Picking Rod’s shirt up off the floor, she slipped in on over herself; it’s bagginess preserving her modesty as she padded over to the window. PLINK! A flash of purple. Not a pebble. But a...ball? A plastic ball, like in a children’s ball pit rocketed up to the window. PLINK! The next one,red, left a crack in the glass. Tina held her breath and leaned closer; feeling the break in the glass for herself. What could do THAT with a plastic ball? It was full dark outside. No stars. Whoever...or whatever...still lay in the shadows. And somehow, Tina knew it was waiting for her. “tinaaaaaaaaaaa!” Tina stepped back. It knew her name. It had come for her. Eyes staring straight into the abyss just outside her window, Tina dared to say “Who do you think you are?” She paused. No answer “Whoever you are…” The poor girl didn’t feel very brave, just then. Only fools weren’t scared, however. She took some comfort in that. Tina couldn’t say why she left her mother’s bedroom and turned on the back porchlight. It’s just what happened sometimes. She didn’t know why she didn’t call the police, either. The flashing lights of a cruiser and an officer at her door might scare away whatever was out there. Or they’d just think it was a prank and ignore her… Sometimes things were just like that…. Clad only in a pair of panties and Rod’s shirt, she switched on the lights, and ventured outside the safety of her home. No going back now. “Somebody there?” “tina!” The reply was short and crisp. An adult losing her patience with a particularly stubborn child. And like the stubborn child whose will was finally waning, Tina wandered outside in short uneven steps. Out into the dark backyard. Out into the darkness. “Tina…” louder this time. A growl or a groan. A muttering maybe. A beckoning, definitely. On toddling, uncertain steps, Tina kept going towards it. Past the junk in her backyard, and by the old rusted playground her dad...her real dad...had set up for her when she was little. Couldn’t have been older than three. There was something oddly familiar about those gymnast rings, come to think of it. Out into the alleyway, she went, some dark force compelling her to find the source of her torment. The hollow rattling sound of beads inside thin plastic almost gave her whiplash as a pink hula hoop rolled along the ground and pittered to a stop. The clicking of heels on pavement made Tina spin again, and the silhouette of a sunhat took Tina’s breath away. “Now….!” the figure came into the light. Her face terribly scarred, her clothes musty, as if dug up from a grave or a tomb. The dirty green and red bag slung over one shoulder; the splintered wooden paddle hanging from a strap from the other. Tina started to back away, to look“Shit…” The thing’s arms stretched out, impossibly long. Inhumanly long! Long enough that the woman stood in the middle of the road, but her fingers brushed fences on either side of the road. “Come...to...Nanny!” Her voice was gnarled and scratchy. Her smile crooked and eyes encased in shadow. Arms outstretched, she was a grotesque parody of a caregiver beckoning for a hug. “COME! COME!” Even as she walked, the paddle, impossibly large, dragged on the ground, scrapping the concrete road. “Please God…” Tina heard herself say. In a blur, the woman’s arms were the right size and the paddle in her hand. “This,” she padded the wooden club in the palm of her other wretched hand, “is God, now.” Tina ran. She ran as fast as her legs could carry her and it still wasn’t enough. The cackling witch behind her waved the paddle in the air, chasing after her; both moving at snail’s pace...the pace of a nightmare. She looked behind her. The hag was gaining on her! “Peek-a-boo!” The hag was in front of her! Burned hands covered a burned face, opening to reveal the giggling hag. “NO! NO! NO!” The poor girl naked save for her panties and shirt, ran back towards her house. If she could get inside she would be safe! If she could get inside she’d be safe! She ran, but now was even slower than before. Breathless, she managed to waddle out of the street and into her backyard, slamming the gate behind her. Waddle? Something was getting thicker, and it wasn’t the air. Her panties! Something was wrong with panties! Just outside her backyard, the girl stopped and lifted up her shirt. That’s why she was having trouble running: Her panties had thickened into a diaper! A diaper?! Not an adult one, but a larger version of something a toddler might wear. All the extra padding had thrown off her gait! She didn’t know why she was wearing a diaper, just then. Sometimes things just worked that way…. “Tina!” From out behind an impossibly skinny the wicked woman jumped. “Watch this!” Her voice was saccharine sweet; mockingly so. Tina stood there, paralyzed as the woman removed her thumb. An old trick. An easy trick. The most basic of slight of hand. Something that grandparents have been doing forever... until spurts of green ichor started streaming from the stump. It was good that Tina had been wearing a diaper just then. Otherwise, she might be standing in a puddle. The warm heat pooling and squishing between her legs was cold comfort, just then. The last few feet to her backdoor were an eternity. The gleeful cackling of the hag threw off her balance; not to mention the swelling Luvs between her legs. Scarred hands yanked at her shoulders; pulling her away from safety and salvation. The knob wriggled and stuck in Tina’s hands. Locked. “NANCY!” she screamed. “NANCY OPEN THE DOOR!” No one came to the door… The only one that heard her was the dead Nanny. “Naughy, naughty girl!” The last thing Tina would remember seeing was the grass and junk in her own backyard as she was pulled over the monster’s knee. “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” The cry sounded so much like a scared baby girl. A scared baby girl about to get a spanking. ************************************************************************************************* Rod woke when he was kicked in the ribs. “AAAAAH! AAAAAAAH! NO! STOP!” Tina screamed under the covers. “Tina?” he tried to ask, “Tina what’s wrong!” All he got in reply was Tina’s agonizing screaming...that and the sound of laughter, coming from under the covers. “I’M SORRY!” Tina yelled. “I’M SORRY! I’LL BE A GOOD GIRL I PROMISE! ROD! ROD! HELP ME ROD!” Panicked, Rod ripped the covers off his girlfriend. She thrashed there on her mother’s bed, her eyes closed and her ass up in the air. Rod stood there in his tighty whiteys, mouth agape as Tina struggled against nothing, wearing only his shirt and a… DIAPER?! The cartoon monkey on the back (and the yellow discoloration between her legs) made it kind of obvious. “PLEASE! DON’T! ROD! HELP! I’M SORRRRRRY!” “TINA” he called out. “TINA.” But Tina couldn’t hear him. In a flash, the borrowed shirt was hiked up, leaving nothing covering Tina’s backside but the wet Luvs inexplicably taped around her hips. WHAP! The sound thick wood hitting pulpy padding filled the air like a cannon shot. Tina screamed like she was being murdered...and in a way she was. “MOMMY!” WHAP! “DA-DA!” Tina kicked and screamed and thrashed as her body started to levitate off the mattress. Unable to believe his eyes, Rod went to turn on a lamp to make sure that the dark wasn’t playing tricks on him. Tina’s whirling thrashing form swinging into him more than confirmed what his eyes suspected. “HAAAAHAAAAHAAAAHAAAAHAA!” He’d heard that laugh too. He’d heard it before even. WHAP! “GAGAGAGA!” Up the walls, Tina’s screeching form was dragged. Eyes still slammed shut, she clawed at the wallpaper, trying to tear herself free as another heavy WHAP sounded. “WAAAAAAAAH!” Now she was crawling on the ceiling. WHAP! “WAAAAAAAAAH” “HAAAAAAHAAAAAHAAAAAHAAAA!” Finally, words couldn’t even describe the incomprehensible wailing pouring out of Tina’s mouth. All throat, no lips. She sounded more an infant than a young woman about to graduate into college. She looked it, too. All Rod could do was scream her name as she was dragged along by the unseeable force until she was set gently down, wafting back onto her mother’s bed. ********************************************************************************************************** Nancy woke to screaming. Tina’s screaming. On feet that would not carry her quickly enough she ran to the master bedroom and began banging on the door. “Tina?! Tina?! TINA?!” Her knocking went unanswered. “Who did this?!” she heard Rod say through the door. “I’ll kill you! Who did this?!” Only Tina’s wails of terror and pain let Nancy know that she was alive. But who was Rod yelling at?” Glenn ran in, fully clothed, from the living room. Together they broke down the door. The brief silence lasted just as long as the crash still echoed. The room was empty. Trashed, but empty. Tina lay in bed feebly kicking at the air and crying nonsensically. An open window, the only clue to Rod’s whereabouts. Tina lay on the bed, sobbing and inconsolable, crying around her own fingers jammed into her mouth. “Tina,” Nancy said “What’s wrong?” Nancy’s best friend since childhood didn’t answer. She just mumbled and cried through tear streaked cheeks. “What happened?” More crying. “Are you okay? Where’s Rod?” Nancy was feeling less and less certain with each question left unanswered. The smell of urine filled Nancy’s nostrils, and her eyes went below Tina’s waist. Nancy had babysat enough times to recognize a Luvs, though she’d never seen one that big. She’d also babysat enough to know when a diaper was on the verge of leaking. She felt the sheets just beneath her friend. Correction...leaked. “Glenn,” she called to her boyfriend. “I think Tina OD’d or something. Something’s going on in her eyes...she’s not all there. There’s something wrong with her.” “I’ll say.” Glenn wasn’t joking. Nancy wasn’t in the mood. “Go search her room or something. Look through her drawers! Maybe we can figure out what she took!” Glenn didn’t need further direction. Nancy waited in tense silence, positioning herself so that Tina’s head was in her lap. She gently shushed her friend, and just like a baby, Tina started to calm down with just a little gentle cooing and pets to her forehead. “You’re gonna be alright, Tina. Everything’s just fine.” Even then, Nancy could hear the lie on her lips. “Nancy,” Glenn said. “We’ve got a problem.” “No shit we’ve got a problem!’ Nancy screamed. “My best friend is bawling like a baby in a fucking diaper!” “There’s more…” “More what?” “More diapers,” Glenn said. “And a crib. Changing table too…” Nancy stood up. “Where?” “Tina’s room. It’s a giant nursery.” Nancy sat with her mother in the police station, clutching a box of tissues like they were a kind of life raft. She’d called the police and told them the whole story. About how her best friend was drooling and babbling, and Tina’s boyfriend was missing from their mother’s bedroom. It was just like Glenn had said: In the thirty seconds or so since they had busted open the door, Tina’s bedroom no longer looked like something belonging to a young lady; but instead was now the home of a baby. A big one, too. It took both her and Glenn working together to lift Tina and carry her into the nursery. There, she changed Tina’s diaper- there were more than enough- while Glenn looked away. The cops came, asked a few questions; mostly about Rod and where Tina’s parents were. Then they had her and Tina come down to the station. The strange thing was they didn’t so much as comment on the giant crib or infant playmat in the corner. Nancy just sat there in silence, her mother at first assuring her that everything was going to be okay. Soon enough they had run out of things to say before Nancy had run out of tears. The door opened and in walked Lt. Donald Thompson; a middle aged man with hairline that was just starting to recede. Nancy looked up from her tissues. “Hey, Dad.” There was no excitement in her voice. No terror either. Her confusion and shock had progressed beyond excitement or fear, and slid down into a numbing iceberg. “Hey sweetie,” her father gave her a chaste kiss on the top of her head. “How are you doing?” “Bad…” Nancy let her silence speak the rest. Lt. Thompson looked over to Nancy’s Mom. “What was she doing there, Marge?” “Hello to you too, Donald.” She was cordial, but her voice was ice. The divorce hadn’t been pleasant; and everytime her folks were around each other, the same old arguments popped up...usually about how they were raising Nancy. When Marge and Donald Thompson were around each other, Nancy might as well have been eight instead of eighteen. “What was she doing?” Dad repeated the question. “She was babysitting,” Mom said. “Just making a little extra money.” “In that part of town?” Dad was incredulous. “On a school night?” Part small town cop, part father, all overprotective and judgement asshole. “Looking after Marla Gray’s kid? That drunk? There’s gotta be better ways to earn some spending money.” Nancy didn’t didn’t look up, but she felt more awake? Babysitting? Really? Was this some kind of bad joke? Tina had been attacked by something. Attacked and transformed. Last Nancy knew, Tina was still bouncing on some lady copy’s knee. “You wanna tell me what you were doing over there? With a boy?” The question through...why was THAT what they were focusing on? “The three of us were just sleeping over,” Nancy insisted. “Nothing was supposed to happen. We were just keeping Tina company in case she got scared. She’s been having bad dreams.” Her Dad arched an eyebrow. “Three? You mean that Rod Lane character was invited?” “Well, no…” Nancy said. “But he just came over and…” “So we’ve got him for trespassing, breaking and entering AND attempt to kidnap,” her father said. “Kidnap?” Nancy tried to speak up. “Rod wasn’t trying to kidnap-?” “Then why did he lock himself in the room with the baby?” There was that word again. “Baby?! Dad I-” “Is he one of those sickos?” “Dad,” Nancy almost screamed. The tears were coming back now. “What’s wrong with you? Tina’s not a baby? She’s my best friend!” Both her parents exchanged looks; they were worried. It was Nancy’s mother that spoke up first. “Nancy,” she started in low and soft, “you’ve been through a lot tonight. I know you feel responsible for what almost happened to that baby girl, but it’s not your fault. You were her babysitter and you did the right thing. You saved her. You called the cops. You asked for help. But that doesn’t mean you have to say things like you’re her best friend. Okay?” More of that numbness overcame Nancy. Numbness, dotted with fresh little pinpricks of shock and confusion assaulted her. “O...okay…” She wasn’t really okay. She didn’t understand what was going on in the conversation, and in order to do that. “Okay,” Lt. Thompson nodded, more to himself than to anyone else. “Get her home safe,” he said to her mother. “I’ll get on finding that Lane punk.” Seeming to consider the matter settled, he went to walk out his office door. “Dad,” Nancy called out. “What about Tina?” Lt. Thompson stopped rubbed his temples. “Her mother’s out of town. We’re gonna put her with CPS for now. Foster home. There’s already an officer doubling back to the scene to get diapers and blankets. Some formula. Maybe a few of her favorite toys. Mom will have to go to a judge to get her back. She’ll be okay. She’s too little to remember any of this long term.” But Tina wasn’t okay, Nancy knew. Tina wasn’t supposed to be in diapers, or sleep in a crib or drinking formula. She was supposed to be sitting next to Nancy in English class first thing tomorrow morning. Why couldn’t Mom or Dad or any of the cops see that? ************************************************************************************************************ The little television on the kitchen fairly roared out the morning news: “POLICE SAY THAT A POTENTIAL KIDNAPPING, POSSIBLY IN CONNECTION WITH A CHILD ABDUCTION RING WAS BARELY THWARTED LAST NIGHT WHEN A MAN TRIED TO BREAK INTO A HOME AND STEAL AWAY WITH A CHILD NO OLDER THAN ONE YEAR OLD. POLICE SAY THE PRIME SUSPECT IS ROD LANE. LANE ALLEGEDLY BROKE INTO THE HOME WHILE THE MOTHER WAS AWAY, LEAVING ONLY A SITTER TO DEFEND HER. LANE IS NOW THE SUBJECT OF A CITYWIDE MANHUNT. IF YOU HAVE ANY INFOR-” The old boob tube was shut off just as Nancy entered the kitchen, but she’d heard enough. The whole city, if not the world, thought that Tina Gray was an infant, and that her boyfriend was some kind of child-napper. What had happened to the world last night? Nancy and her mother shared an awkward stare; just long enough for her to get her backpack and walk out the door. Glenn was grounded, and got his car taken away. Good enough. Nancy could use the walk to school. It’s not like she needed the car now that Tina wasn’t… Tina… “Where do you think you’re going?” It wasn’t accusatory. Mom was clearly concerned. She looked at Nancy as if she were sick, not defiant. “To school…?” Nancy replied. Why wouldn’t she go to school? “Honey, you were tossing and turning all night last night. You have no business going to school today.” That first part was true. Nancy hadn’t slept a wink. Yet with how bizarre everyone around her had been acting, Nancy thought that she might be the one sleeping. There was a bizarrely comforting thought: Maybe she’d wake up. Any minute now, she’d be back in Tina’s (adult) bed, and find Glenn moping on the couch and Tina and Rod still shacked up together in the master bedroom. The more she thought about it, the more Nancy hoped it was true. That the last twelve hours or so had all been a ridiculous dream was infinitely more reassuring and far less bizarre than what felt like the truth. “I’ve got to go to school, mother,” Nancy said. “Otherwise I’ll just sit up there and go crazy.” This is why Alice kept walking through Wonderland. To stay still meant to accept the madness. To venture forward, even if it was into more madness, kept it at bay. Even being bored in English class was better than being trapped in her room, alone with her own thoughts. “Did you sleep?” Mom asked. Clearly, she already knew the answer. Nancy took on a pleading tone. “I’ll sleep in study hall.” She needed sleep, she knew. Just not here. Not now. Not while Tina’s screams still rattled around in her head. Not while she kept replaying finding the room a nursery and changing her best friends’ diaper. Not while she still revisited the conversation with Dad at the police station: CPS. Foster Home. Blankets, toys, formula. “I’d rather...keep busy, you know?” She took a sip of coffee from her mother’s mug. She didn’t want to go back to sleep. Sleep meant revisiting last night; sleep meant more of Tina’s crying and mewling. Sleep meant staring into her best friends’ eyes and them not staring back. Mom grabbed the mug back. “Right home after?” “Right home after.” Nancy promised. They gave each other a kiss, and fueled mostly by adrenaline, Nancy made her way out the door. On her way to school, Nancy couldn’t quite shake the feeling that she was being watched. That just out of sight, something was following her, trailing her, hunting her. She’d had last night, too, come to think of it. It was the feeling that someone she couldn’t see was watching over her, readying itself. A tiger waiting to pounce...or a teacher anxiously awaiting first bell to begin instruction.. Nancy stopped and looked back over her shoulder. The man in the suit and tie and sunglasses didn’t seem to be following her. He stood perfectly still against that elm tree on the other side of the street. Though what was he doing there? It wasn’t a bus stop and he wasn’t a neighbor. Not a face she saw everyday. A dozen or so steps later, she whirled her head around. Gone. Nancy was being followed. What to do? What did he want? Did she scream? Did she call for help? From the bushes behind her, a hand clapped over her mouth while its pulled her in and dragged her into the foliage. Nancy screamed in panic, not even recognizing the smell of fresh body odor and old Axe. “I’m not gonna hurt you!” Rod growled to her even as she thrashed. “I’m not gonna hurt you!” He loosened his grip, and Nancy pried his disgusting hand off of her mouth. Rod hunkered down in the cover of the bushes. Sweaty. Unwashed. Barefoot. Wearing nothing but his jeans and jacket. The shirt that Tina had been found in was collected as “evidence” of some sort. Rod looked at Nancy, eyes tired and desperate. “They’re gonna kill me, for sure.” “Nobody’s going to kill you,” Nancy said. Rod clearly didn’t believe her. Nancy didn’t believe herself. “Did you do it?” Rod looked like he was about to vomit, he was so disgusted. “Do it? Do what? Sleep with my girlfriend? Yeah, I did!” “No, not that,” Nancy said. “The other thing…” Rod looked confused. “Did you put her in a D-I-A-?” Rod cut her off. “Hell no! Tina’s not a baby! But I’m the only one who seems to know that!” “You’re not the only one who knows.” Rod didn’t reply, immediately. Instead his breathing slowed, and his eyes showed a level of gratitude that Nancy didn’t think the young man capable of. “Everybody thinks I’m a kidnapper, or some kind of…” his voice cracked rather than allow him to finish the sentence. “What happened last night?” Nancy asked. “You were screaming an awful lot.” The modern day greaser just shook his head. “I never touched her.” He let out a breath. “There was somebody else there.” Even he couldn’t completely believe what he was saying. “You were screaming like crazy.” “I didn’t do it!” “The door was locked from your side!” It didn’t make any more sense now that she was saying it, but it made her feel better to be on the offense. “Don’t look at me like I’m some fuckin’ nutter or something!” Rod proclaimed through gritted teeth.. “You think I put a big pair of baby pants on my girlfriend, spanked her padded ass, and then snuck out and made everybody think she was a baby?” Not when he said it like that. The whole thing was getting more difficult to believe by the minute. Wait a minute…”Spanked?” “Yeah,” Rod replied. “Kept hearing this slapping sound, right on her butt. She kicked and screamed every time...till she didn’t.” His eyes got hazy, reliving the moment. “But it wasn’t me. Somebody else did it. And when I find ‘em I’m gonna-!” More movement. A familiar figure in a police officer’s uniform. A gun drawn. “Just move away from her, son,” Lt. Thompson said in a low, even voice. Rod looked and saw the gun pointed at him. Arms up, slowly he stood. Nancy too. “Reeeeeal easy, like your ass depended on it,” Nancy’s dad intoned. Like his ass depended on it. A poor choice of words. Police sirens squealed out even as Tina’s (ex?) boyfriend darted for the street. “Hold it!” Lt. Thompson called out. Nancy stepped in front of her father, covering Rod’s barefoot escape. “NO!” He was innocent! She couldn’t prove it, but she knew Rod was innocent. Him being guilty would have meant that Nancy didn’t understand how the world really worked. “Jesus Christ!” her father cursed, lowering his gun. Running fast on tired legs and sore bare feet, Rod didn’t make it far down the street before the first police car cut off his escape. He didn’t make it ten feet before the second blocked his retreat and he was surrounded by men with guns. Rod was a lot of things: Most of them bad. An escape artist wasn’t one of them. Nancy had to watch as Rod was held at gunpoint, slammed on the ground, and cuffed. “I didn’t do anything, Nancy! I promise!” That last outburst wouldn’t look good for him n court. Rod wasn’t behind whatever happened to Tina. He wasn’t smart enough. He’d been following Tina and pulled her off the street because the whole world was out to get him and Tina was the closest thing he had to a friend, just then. A realization came over Nancy. Whether people thought of Tina as an adult or not, Nancy was on the shortlist of people that Rod might try to contact. “Daddy!” she followed her father out onto the street. “You used me!” “What the hell were going to school for, anyway?!” It wasn’t a question as much as an accusation. Again, she wasn’t Nancy the eighteen year old, but Lt. Thompson’s little girl. And little girls didn’t go to school after a scary punk broke into a house where they were babysitting. There was nothing to do. Nothing to do except walk away. “NANCY!” her father called after her. She ignored him, instead focusing on the sound of Rod’s struggling as he was dragged to the squad car. “NANCY! NANCY!” *************************************************************************************************** “What is scene,” the English teacher said, “is not always what is real.” That was a real mood. Mrs. Morgan had watched Dead Poets Society about three too many times, and was always trying to be profound and inspiring, but often her lectures came across as a dramatic monologue, more than an English Lit class. This was doubly true now that the class had shifted into its Shakespeare unit.. Still, the lady had a point. Slumping forward in her desk, Nancy lulled her head to her side. Somebody was in Tina’s seat. Somebody Nancy didn’t even know. But no one missed Tina or remarked about it. It was like that seat had always belonged to the boy sitting there; or that Tina had never been in school with them at all. “For example, in the final lines of a Mid Summer Night’s Dream,” Mrs. Morgan continued, “Shakespeare has Robin Goodfellow assure the audience, as well as the main characters that they ‘have but slumbered here, while these visions did appear, and this meek and idle theme no more yielding but a dream.” Ugh. More dream talk. More sleep talk. Mrs. Morgan was walking around the classroom as she spoke. Making Nancy’s desk in the back of the room less than idea for catching a few winks. “That and considering that he also has the famous play-within-a-play scene; where his actors play villagers badly playing mythic characters while OTHER actors play mythical characters as audience members making jokes about how poor the acting is, all in front of an ACTUAL live audience…” she paused for effect, “Well frankly, nothing is as it seems. It was very ‘meta’ at the time.” That actually got a polite chuckle from the rest of the class and a tired, quiet groan from Nancy. “Shakespeare was actually fascinated with the power of dreams, stories and illusions,” Mrs. and how they affected people, turning illusion into reality. From MacBeth’s soliloquy on life being a walking shadow, to some of his later poems, Shakespeare compared life itself to a story, and noticed how mankind broke itself down into the same repeated patterns and roles again and again. Theater and stories were both illusion AND real to him.” “John?” she said. “Will you go ahead and read, please?” The guy sitting in what used to be Tina’s desk stood up and walked to the front of the class. No page number was given, but everyone looked down in their books. Sometimes things just worked that way… “At first the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms.” The new boy read flatly, and uninterested. Like he wasn’t used to the sound of his own voice. “the whining school-boy with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like a snail Unwillingly to school.” Somehow the guy was managing to make this worse. Did he know what words were coming out of his mouth. He didn’t have to go full theater geek or nothing, but read with a little feeling. Nancy closed her eyes. This was having the opposite effect. She closed her eyes... “the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress’ eyebrow.” John’s voice was literally about to put her to sleep. The palm of her hand was almost a pillow by this point. A new voice called out. “Nancy…?” The high school senior’s eyes popped open. It couldn’t be! It had to be! There in the doorway, clad in only an obscenely used Luvs, her tits hanging out and her hair tied up in little ribbons, was Tina. “Nancy…” she sat there, just outside the classroom, splay legged and diaper bulging light yellow and deep purple. Deep purple for the decorations printed on the outside. Light yellow for what had been put inside and soaked through and discolored any patch of whiteness that might have remained. “Nancy…” Tina smiled, like it wasn’t the name of her best friend but a new word she was trying out for the first time. She reached both arms out and up, like a child wishing to be carried. “the whining school-boy with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like a snail Unwillingly to school.” Nancy looked around the class. Didn’t anybody else see this? But nobody was looking at the doorway. No one else had heard the big baby calling out for attention. To make matters more bizarre, the new kid was apparently backtracking. Lost his place. Nancy looked back to the doorway. No Tina anymore, just a puddle of piss where she had been. A giant baby with a VERY leaky diaper. The reader’s voice dropped to nearly a whisper… “And finally the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms.” The kid hadn’t just lost his place, he was starting over. Except he didn’t keep reading. He hadn’t lost his place. ‘First’ was now ‘finall’, too. He was going backwards. All the way to the lover section of the poem, and then backwards to school and then infant. Nancy stood up as he finished reading, a knowing not-so-gentle smirk on his face. He said nothing more. The rest of the class kept staring at him. The teacher too. No one stopped her from walking out into the hallway, over the puddle that Tina had left. Sometimes things just worked that way… Stepping out into the empty hallways, she saw the not-so-little girl just rounding the corner, drips and dribbles still coming out from her legs; the leak guards long having failed. “Tina?” Nancy called out. But if Tina heard her name, she didn’t respond. She just shuffled and crawled out of sight, leaving a wet trail behind her. Rather like a slug… The hall was empty too. And even though some of the classroom doors were open, there was no sound coming through them. Nancy didn’t know why. Didn’t care either. Sometimes things just worked that way… Tina! She had to find Tina! Following the trail of urine, the senior broke into a run. “TINA?!” She rounded the corner! WHAM! The girl’s sprint was cut short as she collided with what must have been the only other person in the hallway: A pudgy girl with dark black hair and a red and green sash. A hall monitor, of all the antiquated juvenile things! Some students were given the sash and patrolled the halls on off periods, running errands for the front office or playing security guard... Both girls went down to the floor. Fueled by adrenaline, Nancy was easily on her feet first. She looked down at the hall monitor. The girl had a bloody nose and her hair up in pigtails of all things! What self-respecting young woman would have her hair up in pigtails? If Tina had had long enough hair, she’d likely have her hair up in pig-tails right now… The little girl hairstyle combined with a pleasantly pudgy face wasn’t doing anything to make the monitor seem any more authoritative. She sat there on her ass, splay legged and clumsy looking; just like Tina had been a moment ago. Speaking of Tina, Nancy might have been wrong, but there seemed to be something of a swollen bulge coming from between the young lady’s legs. Almost like... But no… No it couldn’t be... “Where’s your hallpass?” the monitor demanded. She seemed unfazed and unconcerned with her bleeding nose. Nancy felt her throat start to close up with anger. “Screw your hall pass,” she growled, walking right past the stupid twat. She broke out into a jog; then a run. “HEY NANCY!” The voice from behind her wasn’t the nasally, whiney voice of the hall monitor. It was older. Deeper. Nancy looked over her shoulder. The hall-monitor was up on her feet again. A gleeful, sadistically playful look was on her face, which was now bleeding from more than just her left nostril. She patted a large, heavy looking paddle in the palm of her hand. “No running in the hallway!” It wasn’t her voice, but the older, raspier one. So was the laugh that followed. No time! No time to ask questions, no time to formulate a quip! No time to deck this wanna be cop in the face! She had to find Tina! Had to follow the trail! She went past an open locker that was so stuffed with teddy bears that they were overflowing out the hallway and piling up like the leaves in fall. She ignored the faint breeze and the scent of lavender baby powder. Had to find Tina! She made a right turn down the stairs. She couldn’t remember if there had been a downstairs before; but it didn’t matter right now. HAD TO FIND BABY TINA! And the stick trail of quickly drying pee was doing just that. There in the dark, gray, almost dingy light, at the bottom of the stairs, Nancy found a sign. It read: “PLAY PLACE! NO GROWN-UPS ALLOWED!” The balled up diaper just by the door was a pretty good clue. Good that someone had at least changed her. Wasn’t it? Ignoring the sign, Nancy stepped forward and opened the door and went in. Turning and taking her, she placed her back to another door, this one made of glass. An old yellowed room decorated with the tattered remains of children’s crayon scribblings laid behind her. But Nancy paid it little mind. What caught Nancy’s attention was the simple, moth eaten curtain in front of her. Nancy felt it call to her, invited her. With a singular swift motion, she tore back the barrier. Just as promised, an indoor playground lay behind it; perfect for a child to frolic and get lost in. Stepping forward past the curtain, she heard the door softly click behind her; so soft that part of Nancy wouldn’t have been surprised to look back and find that the door didn’t exist. There was a kind of heat here; one of energy and motion. It was the same kind of heat from a gym; where no matter how high the AC was turned up, people’s body were radiating energy. Same might be true for an indoor playground. “Tina?” Nancy called out, stepping from the solid concrete and onto the metal mesh of the playground. Such a dark playground, too. Impossible darkness above and below. No more ceiling, just monkey bars and gymnast rings. Her voice did not carry like she’d hoped it would, and she only got the sound of raspy breathing in reply. That, and the same off feeling of some unseen force watching her. Not like this morning after breakfast either; more like the feeling she’d gotten just before Tina’s bed stopped being a bed. No more walls in this place either, just play-tunnels and slides and tubes. Old ones, from the looks of them. Nails and old screws jutted out at odd angles from improper construction and overuse. Nothing like this would ever get past a safety inspector today. “Tina?” Nancy called out, her voice with a hint of hope in it. Please let her be here. Please let her be here. The place had a low thrumming noise, like a heartbeat. Unseen through the vast network of plastic arteries, children crawled and scurred through. No laughter though. No calls of ‘Tag! You’re It!’. Other than the occasional rattle of a body moving through thick plastic, the kids were quiet deathly quiet. Maybe not kids, Nancy thought. She looked around. This place was big enough to accommodate adults...or at least children her size. Tina’s size. Nancy stopped; her eyes being drawn to the sound of the raspy breathing. “T-Tina?” She no longer sounded (or felt) quite so hopeful. When the scarred witch with the red and green bag stepped out of the shadows, Nancy knew she had every right not to be. “Who are you?” A devilish smile blossomed across the disfigured face. Nancy washed as the woman opened up her white blouse and exposed her nipple. As if in answer, the ghoulish woman kneaded her breast slightly. That wasn’t milk coming out of her nipple. Milk wasn’t green. And the laughter that came out of her wasn’t human. The woman rebuttoned her blouse and opened the bag slung over her shoulder. Even at a distance, Nancy could see something white, rectangular and folded peaking out. She didn’t need two guesses to know what it was. A jagged, splintery padde held overhead, the monster woman slowly advanced on Nancy, her square heels clicking on the metal; her intent clear. A paddle, and a diaper bag. First one. Then the other. Nancy quickly pivoted and peeled back the curtain, finding only cement walls to block her path. She juked and ran sideways, deeper into one of the playground’s walkways. Even though she sprinted, she somehow knew she wasn’t getting away. Even though the undead Mary Poppins followed at a slow, leisurely pace, Nancy couldn’t help but feel as if a cold chill was breathing down her neck at every twist and turn she took. No time to think. No time to plan. Just move and turn. Move and turn. Left or right. It didn’t matter. Sometimes things just worked like that… Such a weird logic. Nancy didn’t normally think like this. Not when she was awake anyways. Nancy had been correct in one thing, though; it didn’t matter which way she turned. A dead end found her; and right on her heels, still walking at the same knowing, predatory pace, was the woman with the paddle rounded the corner. She cackled with glee and dragged the paddle along the ground, letting it’s low thudding scraping sound join the hum of the playing children. She gave it a practice swing and a low whoosh went through the air. “Gonna get you,” the shadowed hag taunted. Closer she came, as if savoring every moment. “Nanny’s gonna get you!” Her words were playful, her tone was not. Back against the wall and with nowhere else to go, Nancy realized why she’d been acting so strangely. Things DIDN”T just work like that. Not when she was awake! “IT’S ONLY A DREAM!” she screamed. It was as defiant as it was desperate, and did nothing to stop the woman with the paddle. She’d paused and looked down at the carpet bag filled with diapers, apparently savoring the moment and envisioning what was to come. “Come to Nanny...” she beckoned. No! Not like this! Not like this! Filled with frustration, the young woman’s anger overcame her fear. “GODDAMN YOU!” She got only puckered lips and blown kisses for her shrieking. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of the play-tunnels. Old and rickety, with rusted screws and nails sticking out still from either wear and tear or improper manufacture. Necessity being the mother invention, it gave Nancy an idea. If this was a dream. If this really was a dream then… Without thinking or deliberation she slapped her arm on the nearest piece of jagged, crying out in pain as the rusted metal pierced her flesh. “AAAAAAAAAAH!” Now her voice echoed along the empty structure, deafening out all other sounds as the nail tore open her flesh. It was a little cut, but it hurt like something else. “NAUGHTY!” The woman cried out. Her paddle dropped to the grated floor. A burnt hand reached out to grab her “BE CAREFU-!” **************************************************************************************************** “NO! NO! NO! NO!” Nancy was in hysterics! She stood up from her desk and thrashed her arms, flailing and screaming at her attacker; even as the rest of her class turned around in their seats and stared in amazement at her. “I’M NOT A BABY! I’M NOTTA-!” She didn’t open her eyes, even then. It wasn’t until Mrs. Morgan rushed and grabbed her by the shoulders that she opened them. “OK! OK! THOMPSON!” Her last name! Children didn’t get called by their surnames. Nancy froze; fully awake and the center of attention. “I’ll-I’ll call your mother.” Nancy kept her eyes on her teacher, slowly starting to catch her breath. “Everything is alright now.” Wordlessly, Mrs. Morgan tried to guide Nancy back to her desk. Nancy planted her feet and backed away. ‘No,” she said. Even as she did it, she started to pick up her books and collect her back pack. “I’m okay.” “You sure?” “I’m fine.” Again, her teacher asked, “You’re sure?” Not quite believing her. It was fair. “Yeah,” Nancy repeated. “I’ll go straight home.” It took everything in her not to break down and cry right there in front of everyone. Somehow, Nancy found the strength. Somehow, her teacher seemed just as shook. “You’ll need a h-hall pass.” Nancy ignored her and walked out the door, this time turning towards the exit instead of going deeper into the school. She really didn’t want to know if there were stairs further down the hall and to the right; yet alone where they led to. Just outside the school, right past the steps of the front entrance, Nancy let out a sob. She couldn’t say whether it was from fear or relief; not that it mattered. A dream. It had all been a dream. Just a dream. But if it was ‘just’ a dream; why did she have a cut on her forearm right where she’d slammed it against the metal? That afternoon, the holding cell was cold and hard, but not sterile. There was a feeling of dingy, almost moldy wetness in the air, even though not a trace of the stuff could be seen or smelled. It had all the cold and clinical feelings with none of the safe sterility. The bars were a kind of graying green. How odd, Nancy thought, that something meant to confine and restrict would be the same color as the Statue of Liberty. Looking at each other through opposite ends of the bars, Nancy and Rod spoke in quiet hushed tones as the bored guard went to take a dump. “And then what happened?” Nancy asked. “I told you,” Rod said. “It was dark but I’m sure there was somebody else in there.” Rod sounded tired and exasperated. The police interrogators had probably asked him the same questions. The only difference was that the cops in no way believed that a hundred and twenty pound B-Cup wearing Tina Gray was more than a year old. “How could somebody be in there without you knowing about it? Exasperated as she was, Nancy knew the truth. She just didn’t believe it herself. In some wild way she was hoping poor stupid Rod could do it for her. “The door was locked.” “How the fuck should I know?” Rod was equally perplexed and considering he was being charged with kidnapping (among other things) he was infinitely more frustrated. “I don’t expect you to believe me anyway.” He retreated to the back of his cell and stared at the stainless steel toilet. “What did he look like?” She leaned up against the bars. “Did you get a good look at him?” Rod looked up and back around at Nancy. “No,” he said. He sounded more than a little sad. Anger and regret and exhaustion all blending together into a terrible cocktail. Nancy felt her frustration bubbling up. She whacked the bars, a fussy toddler in her crib, and started pacing. She was on the right side of the cell door but still felt trapped. “Then how do you know somebody else was there?!” “Because somebody spanked her while I watched.” Rod moved back to the door and leaned in as far as the iron would let him. Nancy crossed her arms, not looking directly at her best friend’s boyfriend. “And you didn’t even get a good look at him?” “I couldn’t even see the fucker.” He shuddered at the memory. “I could just see it happening. Hear the smack. See her diaper flatten out in the back with the paddle.” Paddle?” Nancy looked right at him. “What do you mean?” Rod’s voice went hollow, a tinge of fear in his voice. “My old man used to spank us,” he said, “before we learned how to throw a punch. My baby brother, too. I know the difference between a hand, a belt, and a paddle. The sound, the mark, the pain. This was a paddle. It was a big one, too. Rectangle, like they do at Frats or the movies or whatever. The kind that hits you down there but really knocks the wind outta ya.” His eyes came back to the present and he looked at Nancy. “You know, I probably could’ve saved her.” His voice cracked. “But I thought it was just another nightmare...like the one I had the night before.” Nancy didn’t speak. Nancy just listened. “There was this…” he hesitated. “There was this lady. She had this huge paddle; more like a club, really. It was too big, but she carried it around one handed, like it was easy. Like it was a toy.” Nancy’s skin began to crawl. This sounded familiar. Too familiar. Far too familiar. Just like what Tina had been talking about last night. Just like what Nancy had dreamed. And Rod had neither been around nor been told about either of those. On the verge of hyperventilating, Nancy started to walk away, towards the door back out to the police station proper. “Hey,” Rod called out, sounding weary. “Do you think I did it?” Just before she banged on the door to be let out, Nancy told him the truth. “No.” It didn’t make either one of them feel better. ***************************************************************************************************** The water was hot in the tub that evening. Hot enough to boil a lobster. Hot enough to cauterize the already scabbing over scratch on Nancy’s arm. Hot enough to destroy all the aches in her body from a perpetually bizarre day. Nancy lay there up to her neck in the clear hot water, her head propped up by a bath pillow. “Ten, nine, better watch your behind,” she sang in tired lackadaisical whisper. She turned the washcloth over her in hands, her eyes half closed. She wasn’t washing herself as much as wringing the thing like a wet teddy bear. “Eight, seven, gonna learn your lesson.” Such a weird little jump rope song. It seemed oddly appropriate, somehow. Strange how dreams and reality so often lined up. “Six, five, never gonna thrive.” Thrive. A fancy two dollar world meaning grow and mature. Funny considering she’d been dreaming about strange women carrying around paddles and diaper bags. Tina wasn’t thriving anymore... Nancy only half-knew it, but she was putting herself into a kind of trance. The rhythmic sing-song nature of it all becoming a kind of lullabye. “Four, three, in your pants you pee.” When she was younger that seemed like the funniest part; as if peeing your pants could be scary... “Two, one, Nanny says you’re done….” Her eyes were closed. The last line coming out as barely a mumble. She’d sang the old jump rope rhyme to calm her nerves. And it had worked. The tub held her like a hammock or a cradle;, and the water covered her and kept her warm like a blanket. Nancy laid there, still, in the tub. She breathed steady, shallow breaths as she dozed in the tub. Her stomach moved up and down below the water, and she began to lightly snore, not yet dreaming. If she had been dreaming, it wouldn’t have been of the hand racing up from the tub’s drain. Had she been awake she would have noticed the scarred digits reaching for the washcloth lightly clutched in her hand… A knock on the door. Nancy’s eyes snapped open. It hadn’t been long, not nearly long enough. The water was exactly the same temperature as when she’d closed her eyes. Funny thing about sleep; a moment could feel a millennium and vice versa. “Nancy?” A familiar and nagging voice called through the bathroom door. Nancy grumbled and then spoke up. “What, Mother?” “Don’t fall asleep in there,” Mom warned. “You could drown, you know.” The young woman rolled her eyes. “Oh for Pete’s sake.” In the quiet acoustics of the bathroom, even her mumblings could be heard. She picked up the washcloth again and wrung it in her hands if only to do something wit her hands and add the gentle dripping to the room’s soundtrack. She looked askance between her legs in the tub. Had that rubber duck always been there? “It happens all the time,” Mom insisted. “I’ve heated up some warm milk.” “Warm milk?” Nancy repeated, her upper lip curling in disgust. “Gross.” What did Mom think she was? A baby? She instantly regretted thinking of it in those terms. Mom’s footsteps faded slowly away as she gave Nancy a hint more of privacy. With a breath that started out as an annoyed huff and ended as a weary sigh, Nancy closed her eyes. One. Last. Ti- The shriek of fright she let out was muffled by the water. Down she went into the tub as two hands yanked her down by the hips. Down. Down! DOWN! Down further than it was possible in a simple bathtub, Nancy went. Instinctively, she kicked towards the sources, with those horrible hands pulling her farther and farther down. Not just those hands, either. More than one pair was grabbing her; caressing her; violating her. “Ah-ah-ah!” A voice from the depths chided. “Can’t go to bed dirty!” She couldn’t breathe! She couldn’t see, either. Still terribly warm, the water now clouded with soap. Soap in her eyes! Oh how they burned! How they stung! With near Herculean strength she breached the surface, stealing a gasp of air before being pulled back down. “HELP! Her eyes hurt. Soapy water rushed up her nose. She opened her mouth to scream and tasted suds. It was as if she were trapped under ice, with only a narrow porthole shining the light from her bathroom. The rest was incredibly dark, and from the dark came the hands; groping and probing. There were more than just hands in the water dragging her down. Wet, scrubbing fabric dragged across her skin. Washcloths! She was being drowned. She was being bathed. Either way, she was in a panic. Either way, she was being violated. Her laft arm was the only thing to breach the surface. Only by pounding on the sides of the tub and up against the near wall of the bathroom did Nancy have even the faintest recognition of still being in her own home. Only by that left arm did she have a hope of rescue. All the while down in the darkness, washcloths and hands that should not be scrubbed at her. In and behind her ears. Up and down her arms and breasts. Underneath her armpits “HE-!” When she managed to breach again she wasted her breath screamin. Nancy could have sworn she felt the teeth of a fine toothed comb brushing out her hair for her. Pounding so far away, coming from the bathroom door. Not nearly as loud as the pounding in Nancy’s head. The washcloths worked their way up and down her legs, and in her most vulnerable and intimate of places. “Almost…” The voice whispered from the darkness. Water still steaming hot, the washcloths withdrew as suddenly as they had advanced on her. “MOMMY!” Nancy screamed, her voice scratchy and hoarse; her mouth tasting of soap. “Hold on, baby!” Mom called through the door. An amphibian wriggling up on land, Nancy managed to claw her way out of the tub. She grabbed a towel and draped it over her shoulders just as Mom picked the lock on the door. “I’m okay!” she said when Mom burst in. “I’m okay.” The mirror was too steamed up to see her reflection, but even Nancy didn’t need to see her face to know that she was lying. “I’m okay.” “But I heard you screaming,” Mom said. “I heard you calling me.” “It’s okay,” Nancy lied. “I just...I just slipped getting out of the tub.” She didn’t resist as her mother took the bathrobe off the hook and started draping it over Nancy’s shoulders; removing the towel and guiding her arms through the sleeves, just like when she was a child who couldn’t dress herself. “I told you,” Mom said, tying up the belt around Nancy’s waste. “Hundreds of people a year, dear.” “I know,” Nancy panted. “I know. You were right.” That little acknowledgement seemed to satisfy her mother. “I’ll go turn down your bed for you.” “Okay,” Nancy nodded. Her voice was still shaky. “I’ll put on my pajamas.” “Okay.” And then she was alone. Nancy shivered. She was cold. Getting out of a hot bath, she was always a little chilly as her skin adjusted to the rapid shift in temperatures, but there was something different this time. Her skin felt funny. On a kind of dread intuition she opened the robe and examined herself. She had no body hair. Anywhere. None on or under her arms. None below the waist, on or between her legs. No stubble or even the vaguest hint of a root. Completely smooth. Baby smooth. To a degree, it was as if Nancy had never hit puberty. Or like it had all been scrubbed off like stubborn dirt in the bathtub. A sense of foreboding reminded Nancy of the tub. She turned to the tub. She hadn’t put that rubber ducky there. Nancy didn’t even own a rubber ducky since she was three. And she definitely didn’t take bubble baths. There it was though, in all of it’s lavender scented glory: a tub brimming with bubbles. Ten...nine...better watch your behind…. Nancy backed away and opened the bathroom medicine cabinet.. She reached in and took the pill bottle from the bottom shelf. “STA AWAKE (Fast Acting).” It read. She spared one last look at her body; another at the tub; and then downed double the recommended dosage. ********************************************************************************************************* “The all consuming act of bodily dismemberment-” The T.V. in Nancy’s bedroom droned on. “NOOOOOOOOOO!” The woman in the horror movie screamed while her arms were ripped from their sockets and corn syrup blood gushed out from her torso. Nancy lay in bed, struggling to stay awake; trying desperately to stare at the screen instead of the back of her head or the inside of her eyelids. The warm milk was doing nothing to put her to sleep, but the anti-sleeping pills could only do so much against her exhaustion. And her bed was comfortable. And unlike Tina, Nancies jammies didn’t have snaps along the inseam, nor did she crinkle when she moved. So much easier to just... She had texted Glenn, just so she could have someone to talk to and got no response back. He was probably grounded. Her freakout this morning in English had stopped her from getting to talk to her boyfriend. She worried about him and how he was coping with all the strange. More importantly, it was harder to go to sleep when you had someone to talk to. After almost drowning in the tub, and the not so pleasant nap this morning, sleep wasn’t exactly something Nancy craved. With no other options, horror movies became the last resort. The screaming and the blood, no matter how schlocky had always given her the creeps, given her trouble sleeping...given her reason to stay awake. In a weird way she was fighting bad dreams with nightmare fuel. Sadly, as her lids started to droop, threatening to weld themselves shut, even the nightmare fuel was running out of gas. Her head started to nod, just a bit. It would be okay. Just a quick nap...a cat nap. Not even a cat nap, a kitten na-.... NO! For what might have been the third or the dozenth time (she’d lost count), Nancy startled herself awake, forcing herself to stare at the old horror movie. Even the blood curdling screams and the sounds of chainsaws were becoming a kind of lullaby to the poor girl. . UP! UP! UP! Nancy sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. Must not lay down! Must not sleep! She grabbed the remote and turned off her T.V. Maybe an eerie silence would help her stay conscious better than a grisly melody… Clad in pure white, she sat and huffed, chiding herself. This was stupid. She was acting like a child, afraid of monsters under the bed, (though that thought made her careful of her feet). Even the bathtub was more bad dream than reality. Her body hair? There was a logical explanation for that. She did like to keep a clean shop so to speak. Maybe she hadn’t lost it all as much as she’d just done a really good job of shaving...and forgot. But when she’d asked her mother about it, just before bed, all Mom had said was “You’re just a late bloomer, sweetie,” before giving her a kiss on the forehead and ensuring that she’d chunged down a glass of dairy. THAT was an unexpected reaction… Rubbing herself out of nerves and the strange smoothness of her own skin, Nancy got up out of bed and walked over to her bedroom window. Maybe some fresh air would help her stay awake. Gently sliding the window open, Nancy poked her head out and stared down at the neighborhood from her second story window. “Hi…” a voice from the night whispered. It was only Nancy’s deep familiarity with Glenn’s voice and his silhouette’s complete dissimilarity from the woman in Nancy’s dreams that saved him from a shove that would have sent him plummeting to the lawn below. The young woman drew back, swallowing her scream into a gasp as her boyfriend poked his head through. “I’m sorry, I saw your light was on. I wanted to check on you to see how you were.” “Do you know how much I sometimes wish you didn’t live right across the street.” Her tone was biting, her heart was pounding, but for the first time all day she felt something akin to relief. Glenn must’ve sensed it, too. “Will you shut up and let me in?” he asked. “Did you ever stand on a rose trellis in your bare feet.” Of course he’d sneak all the way over in his pajamas and bare feet… “Just get inside before somebody sees you.” Glenn clambered in through her window. Romeo on the balcony he wasn’t. More like an old boxer trying to climbe between the ropes. He cried out a little as his pricked his feet on a wayward thorn. “Ow!” “Shhh!” “What? They hurt?” “You gotta be quiet, Mom’s not even asleep yet.” Once he was inside, Nancy closed the window behind him. Laying there in his pajama bottoms and a gray sweatshirt, Glenn seemed to make himself very comfortable on Nancy’s bed while she closed her bedroom door; lest Mom see something she wasn’t supposed to. It was stupid, presumptious, and cocky...and it made Nancy feel at least five times better. Glenn being a bit of a horndog was infinitely more normal than the last twenty-four hours. “Do you mind?” she asked. Glenn seemed disappointed, but not terribly surprised. He slid off the bed and took a seat an old wicker chair next to it. “So I heard you had a freakout in English class today.” Nancy sat back down on her mattress. “Yeah, I guess I did.” “You haven’t slept yet, have you?” “Not really.” He reached over and noticed the cut on her left harm; the same arm that had managed to pull herself up from drowning in the bathtub. “How’d you get that?” “I cut myself in English class.” “Like with a razor?” Flashes of the sharp edged piece of shrapnel poking out from warped playground equipment appeared in Nancy’s mind’s eye. “No.” Glenn didn’t seem to have any further questions. Just more worried looks. The young lady grabbed a mirror and looked in her reflection. She looked tired. So tired. Her face sagged at the edges. Her cheeks looked puffy, chubby almost. She thought about her mother declaring her a ‘late bloomer’. “God, I look like I’m four.” She really did. Mom had mountains of photos saved on a drive from Nancy’s childhood. More than a few of them had a pre-kindergarten girl making pouty faces just before naptime. She put the mirror down and looked back to her boyfriend. “Did you have any weird dreams last night?” “Slept like a rock,” he replied. The answer was too fast. Too sure. Nancy kept digging. “Do you believe that people can dream about what’s going to happen?” “No.” Again, too fast. Too sure. This was a conversation that Glenn had had with himself ahead of time; like preparing for a job interview, or confession. “Do you believe in the boogeyman?” Flat heeled boots and ruffled blouses blinked in Nancy’s brain. “Or boogeywoman?” “No.” Glenn didn’t sound convinced of himself this time. “I talked with my folks. Maybe Tina always was...like that...and we just never noticed. Rod tried to kidnap her...or worse...you know that.” It wasn’t an admission; quite the opposite. But rather than the self-assured gaslighting coming from her mom and dad, that obvious bold-faced-lie of denial actually helped Nancy. It gave her confidence in her own experiences and senses. “I’ve got a crazy favor to ask you.” Glenn knew the look in Nancy’s eyes. “Uh-oh.” Nancy leaned forward. “I’m going to go look for someone. I just need you to stay here. Stand guard.” Not nearly as dumb as Rod, Glenn connected the dots. “Okay. Deal.” “Turn off the light.” Glenn did. Nancy saw a perverted little smirk as he switched off the lamp. “And it’s not what you’re thinking…” ********************************************************************************************************* It was late when Nancy finally managed to sneak out of her house. So late the crickets had gone to sleep. Every light in the house, save the front porch, was out. Still barefoot so that her footfalls were as light as possible, and still in her pajamas, the highschool senior snuck out onto an otherwise empty street. The street shouldn’t have been so empty. The ground, not so soft on the souls of her feet. The animals, not so quiet. The air, not so warm and cozy. Almost as if on some level, Nancy knew she was still asleep in her bed. Almost... Sometimes things just worked like that... A quick turn of the corner, and she was near Tina’s house. It didn’t matter that Tina lived much further away, certainly more than. Nancy was passing by her old friend’s backyard where they’d spent so many childhood days playing with dollies or tea sets. The old playhouse was still there in the yard, she noticed. Even the dark, that house looked far newer than it should have. Even the dark the house looked far older than Nancy knew it to be… Feeling ill at ease, Nancy looked behind her to the pristine streets of her own block. “Glenn?” she called out softly. “Are you still watching?” Out from behind a tree, Glenn glided onto the sidewalk. “Yeah?” he said. “So?” He sounded impatient. Irritated. “Just checking,” Nancy whispered. Though she didn’t know why she did. No one was around to hear either of them. A voice in her head, her own, prodded her on. She wasn’t here for Tina, she told herself. She couldn’t save Tina. She could still make sure Rod was okay. Slowly she walked forward as her boyfriend took his post behind the tree; looking around warily as a dog barked somewhere in the distance. A few more steps into the night fantastique, past burned out and decaying buildings, and Nancy was at the police station. Her mind instantly glossed over that this too should be impossible. But she’d gone there so many times throughout her life, she knew the way like the back of her hand. Even on foot, though the way might be long and tedious, she could make her way to Daddy’s Job in her sleep. Picking up her pace, Nancy jogged over to where the holding cells were, just to the right of the staired entranceway. Through meshed windows, not unlike a playpen, she peered to see the modern day Greaser, asleep in his bed. Safe. Likely uncomfortable on the holding cell’s cot. But safe. Nancy relaxed a little bit as he rolled over from his side and began to suck his thumb. Sleeping like a… A banging sound from within the station’s cell and the squeaking squeal of hinges that desperately needed oiling caught Nancy’s attention. The door to the holding cells opened. Nancy’s breath stopped, hiding inside her lungs than to come and face the open air. The intruder’s face was burned and boney, angular like a witches with texture comparable to raw meat. The dead flowers in her dirty brown sunhat seemed to drain the color from the room instead of add to it. The flats of her heels click-clocked on the cold pavement of the cells. Still, Rod did not stir. Looking down into the basement level, Nancy still had the advantage. She could see the witch-thing, the scarred beldam but the woman with the paddle slung over one shoulder and dirty green and red diaper bag over the other could not see her. Nancy turned her head. “GLENN!” She called. Her voice was loud but remained calm. Glenn did not appear. “GLENN?” a hint of doubt creeped in. A smidgen of fear. Nancy looked down into the cells and watched as the disfigured wenched walked straight through the bars and into Rod’s cell. The iron bars did not block her way. They might as well have been patches of shadow on her ruffled blouse and striped bow tie. The girl banged on the windows. “ROD!” The boy did not stir. “ROD! WATCH OUT!” He only laid there and sucked his thumb while the horrid woman peeled back his blanket and unbuttoned his pants. “ROD! Watch out!” The bizarre babysitter looked up at Nancy from the cell, a knowing smile on her face. A dark laughter as she set her bag down. “GLENN!” The young woman screamed and pounded. “ROD! WAKE UP! GLENN!” The monster beside the bed didn’t even break her stride, opening the bag and removing wipes, powder, and a diaper far too big for any actual baby to need. “GLENN!” Where was he? He was supposed to be standing guard! When she looked back down into the cell, unable to completely ignore the perversion going on, she saw Rod. Rod. And only Rod. The meathead’s eyes opened and he sat up, slowly looking around, confused by the presence of his thumb in his mouth. Nancy’s voice was back to full shriek.“GLENN!” . Glenn did not answer. “Nanceeeeeeee…” Not ten feet away, all by herself, was Tina, standing up but swaddled like a newborn. Nancy stood up, confused and shocked. Tina couldn’t be here. Tina wouldn’t walk. Tina couldn’t talk. “NANCEEEEE!” Tina’s voice sounded impossible distant. The echo of her former adult self. The big baby’s lips didn’t move in time. Instead, they parted, and slowly, very slowly, Tina began to vomit. It wasn’t even vomit, that mixture of breast milk and strained peas. When a baby did it, it was just called spit-up. Nancy turned her back to the wall and edged along the police station’s property, not daring to take her eyes off the disgusting sight in front of her. Bundled up Tina just watched Nancy with infantile curiosity as something thick and disgusting pooled at her feet. Someone needed a diaper change. This couldn’t be real! This wasn’t real! “GLENN!” the high school senior shouted out into the night. “WAKE UP!” she called. No response, save the gurgling noises from Tina as her stomach ejected all of its contents. This wasn’t real. This wasn’t real. She was in her bed at home! Glenn was watching, waiting for her to stir. If she screamed loud enough, the real her might at least mumble something in her bed. “ARE YOU THERE?!” “I’m here, little one.” It wasn’t Glenn’s voice. Not even close. “PEEKABOO!” From the shadows, the witch came and Nancy ran like the Devil Herself was at her heels. Faster! She ran! Faster! But her legs felt like they had weights in them. So much running. So little progress. “HEEEE-HEEEE-HEEEE-HEEEE!” It was just like when she was a child playing tag. It didn’t matter how fast she pumped her legs, the bigger, older kids, always caught up to her. Her five fastest strides were two medium steps to the tallest kids. Her sprints were barely a jog to the grown-ups; and so it felt here. Back! Back to her house! Her safe space! Her refuge! She’d started her dream there, and so it could end here. That’s how it worked, right? Sometimes, at least... Skin goose pimpled with cold sweat, Nancy opened the door to her home and slammed the door behind her; locking it and sparing only a glance. Maybe this was it. Maybe she was safe. Here in her own home. Wolves roamed outside the door. Not inside the house. Three steps up, the staircase turned to tapioca pudding beneath her feet. Nancy dropped down half a foot, her ankle caught in the vat. The next step had just as much give. The door thundered and shook on its hinges. From the outside, Nancy heard the telltale sound of a key being inserted, and tumblers making way. A key! The witch had a key! “NAUGHTY….NAUGHTY…” The door opened and the grinning maniac walked in. “You’re far too little to walk like that, sweetie! Be good for Nanny!” Nancy scrambled up the steps, crawling on her hands and knees the rest of the way up the stairs. The stairs held. Nancy’s appreciation for the irony didn’t. “GLEEEEEEEEEENN!” Hobbling like a monkey, Nancy screamed all the way into her bedroom. She closed the door behind her; anything to put one more layer between her and the Mary Poppins from Hell. “GLENN!” There on the door, in her bedroom mirror’s reflection, Glenn sat slumped over, asleep in the wicker chair he’d set up guard in. He was motionless, oblivious to her screaming. “This is just a dream, this isn’t real!” Nancy said, remembering Glenn’s supposed trick. “None of this is real! This is just a dream! She isn’t real, she ISN’T-!” The shattering glass of her mirror sounded real enough. The jagged, splintered paddle that sent the shards careening into the air looked real enough. The hag tackling her, cackling in glee as she yanked Nancy around by the hips seemed real enough. Nancy screamed until her throat her, while the cackling monster pulled her over knee and went to yank her pajama bottoms down. Nancy clawed at the carpet, squirming out of her bedtime pants in a futile effort to remain unspanked. This only seemed to amuse the female fiend. “GLENN!” Even as she clawed and kicked and did her everything to protect herself, Glenn snoozed away in his own little dreamworld. With nothing else to protect herself, she grabbed a pillow off her bed. One swing from the passive club later, and Nancy was holding onto nothing more than cotton stuffing. “GLENN! NOOOOO!” RRRRRRRRRIIIIIING! Glenn sat up with a start. Nancy did too, now fully awake in her bed as the alarm clock she’d set ‘just in case’ rang to life. Nancy turned it off and looked around the room. Her room. Her very mature. Very adult room. As her boyfriend rubbed the sleep from his eyes, Nancy peaked under her bed covers. Her pajama bottoms were gone. So were her panties. Where she’d gone to bed in dry underwear, she woke up in damp Goodnites. “Glenn...you bastard…”

I hadn't seen this posted here before but thought it was funny and wanted to share:

I found this funny video on Youtube about a girl who wants to explore roleplay and having a Daddy. Things take an unexpected turn..!