Chapter Two:

  The Podcaster

  “You can build a community, and literally change the world just recording into a microphone.” - Chris Hardwick

  The Oldsmobile drove down a lone highway, its headlights illuminating only the patch of highway ahead, the edges of farmland disappearing like the rest of the world into void darkness.

  The litany of smells inside that car would have made anyone else’s stomach turn. Rotting tubes of shit gathered in the lap of the shotgun passenger, her stomach sliced open, multiple stab wounds seeped fresh blood onto the old congealing, sticking the body in place on the Hawaii themed seat cover, the blue and white lotus flowers turning brown and crusty. The car was in the midst of a silent moment save for the whisper of wind, muffled by the closed windows.

  The man driving, Daniel, began to tap his finger mindlessly on a matching floral steering wheel cover. His hands unwashed and caked with dirt, copper red. Killer he thought as his eyes flashed over them in the same moment a streetlight hovered by. It was hot and sweet with stink, like a truck-stop bathroom used to fillet both animal and fish. A changing station covered in that flaky red; knife marks left in the heat-softened plastic.

  Daniel had sat silently for the last two hours, a plan repeated in images through highway hypnosis. The fleeting adrenaline made his body scream for both rest and restlessness, his mind eerily quiet when before it had been a raging rapids of voices, angry and frustrated, they mocked his flaccidity and turned his body against it itself. His mind was a snapping rope with only a few forgotten or simply ignored strands being saved from the sawing blade that infected him. Feeling close to sleep, Daniel reached into the breast pocket of the Wrangler button-up he wore and fished out a smushed pack of menthol cigs, he opened the pack pulling out one of the last stragglers and a white Bic lighter. All the while his knees held the wheel steady. The road straight and even before him. Lighting the cig Daniel inhaled. He returned the pack to his shirt, sliding the lighter in the inside door handle, then he cracked the window keeping the ghost gray smoke from stagnating inside. A trail flew fast to the outside world disappearing in the wind and clouds. The taste in his mouth was sickly and acidic, the tobacco only furthering his distaste, but the nicotine was a welcome respite. Daniel’s dry tongue painted cracked lips and he tasted salty earth.

  After a few minutes of smoking the nicotine really only offering the energy it took to lift his hand to his mouth, inhale and breath out. It wasn’t enough and for the first time in over 24 hours his eyes started to feel heavy. At first it felt welcome, like a homecoming but he fought it with a familial trauma of not wanting to fall asleep. Left hand on the wheel, cigarette in mouth as his own mind went still; Another reached Daniel’s right hand over the middle console, placing it on the thigh of the dead woman, stroking gently.

  A Moon light glow shone from the bloodless extremities and as Daniel’s fingers caressed the cold softness of the dead skin. It felt like Power. It was God. It Wasn’t Propaganda! It was the Truth and They couldn’t see what was right in front of them! They didn’t understand, couldn’t see, so fucking blind!

  The heat was turning hellish and he was high on the FBI’s most wanted and a priority due to all the media coverage. They loved what he told them, the messages they left in blood and shit. But blind! They were blind! The Devil is me and Christian panic aims best at the weak. It only ends up muddling the true message. There is so much They don’t understand and soon it will be over, They will know nothing. The End is Nigh. He needed to leave, The Boy, The Hole. I, the whispers, guided him. he’s seen my visions, knows the future. 4G will protect him, a saving grace. Thanks Eisenhower. A God of his own planet, or planets. A new start just waiting in the place he can’t pronounce but they can hear its voice singing beautiful hymns, a purgatory of broken souls like his, where he, and I, The Devil, can be King God.

  “Wake up!” scraped the voice of the dead women next to him. Daniel shook awake, righted the wheel then looked over at the smiling women, watching him now.

  “Yeah, yeah. We both know this show is almost over and I’ll be free of you and this place for good. I’ve got the cameras, the gore, the candles, all that Halloween ritual shit, ready to go. I got you, you… I got you who you asked for.” Daniel told the corpse.

  “Yet you still fight me, I can feel you pulling away from me Danny.” Hissed the corpse. Daniel closed his eyes for a moment feeling the slithering snakes slime between the spaces of his brain, down into his spinal cord, twisting inside his guts.

  “I hate you!” He hissed, “Once I’m free I’ll do everything I can to destroy you, I don’t care about the boy. I don’t care about anything anymore.” He glanced over at the frozen face, mouth open in a silent scream. Then returned his eyes to the road. Daniel’s eyes flipped to black and the voice came from his mouth now “I lost myself a little I can admit that, I know I’ve pushed you father than I should have, and I’ve nearly broken you, but you know who I am, what I am and what I’m best at, what I love.” Daniel’s hand moved in circles on the bone white thigh, “Finish the deal and you’ll be free to do what you like. Try and kill me if you must, but you’ve seen what I can do.” Daniel felt drool forming as his mouth grew wet with saliva.

  10 miles ahead, Officer Lebrowski sat one hand rubbing his gurgling bubble guts. It hurt and he’d have to destroy a bathroom soon but he didn’t regret a god damn thing. That gas station glizzy covered in chili, onions, hot nacho cheese, jalapenos and topped off with crushed flaming hot Cheetos was looking to be the highlight of his night. Lebrowski didn’t have great taste, literally, he was a god damned food connoisseur but after a hard punch to the schnoz he’d gotten anosmia by way of ripping his old factory nerves, whatever the hell that meant. Lebrowski couldn’t be bothered to smell his our farts.

  He was on his way out anyway, had a webcam and a brand new microphone with a stand, courtesy of Amazon. Soon he’d be a huge streamer. He’d thought of doing IRL in the car at work but he wanted to produce this thing, build it ground up with graphics and everything. He’d downloaded OBS and been playing around before his night shifts.

  Officer Lebrowski, didn’t have a partner. Used to, but one day he was told he wouldn’t have one anymore, that he was a special case. He got reassigned to watch a boring stretch of highway no one used. He loved the freedom, his own space, he’d play Switch, listen to podcasts. Was listening to LPOTL now, one of his favorites, but not his all time favorite. He was a hometown boy through and through, so he loved his brother from another mother, king of conspiracy and a true american journalist… His attention broke.

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  Daniel, eyes black, in his own world of horrors, sped past a cop car, only breaking as it began to pull out of its hiding hole, the gremlin pig it was. Daniel hit the gas hard to get distance before he could be pulled over. He pushed down on the dead woman's head further sloughing the body into the seat. Daniel grabbed a large comforter that was folded up in the back, next to the bags, and covered the body to the top of the head just as the lights began to flash. He took two cigarettes from the pack then lit and furiously smoked both of them while making sure the large blanket covered the blood soaked ground and seat next to him. He licked his hands and rubbed them one by one then slicked his sweaty unkempt black hair back.

  “Stay calm, everything is fine. Act normal and do as I say when I say it” The Devil as the corpse whispered to him from beneath the blanket. Daniel pulled over, taking one of the cigarettes and putting it deep into the center ash tray. He took a deep breath then smoked as he watched blinding lights behind him, the sound of a door opening and shutting, sounds of heavy footfalls and breathing.

  Officer Lebrowski was grateful for the easy speeding ticket. It had been a couple nights now where he didn’t get shit done for a whole shift. Secretly he worried about being fired but he knew he shouldn’t be out here alone and that could be a bargaining chip later on, it’s a dog eat dog world and you gotta keep hustling, which is why he traded in meme coin and sports betting, soon twitch affiliate and beyond.

  Lebrowski didn’t think much of the car speeding up before finally pulling over, just enjoyed hitting the speed in his car even letting out a little “whoo”.

  As he came to a stop behind the Oldsmobile he shined his spotlight at the driver's face via mirror, could see he was smoking, but not much else.

  Stepping out of the car, he could feel his stomach turn angrily and he bent and clutched his gut a bit as he felt a dangerous pressure build. He stood waiting a moment, steeling himself and his bowels. Before grabbing his flashlight and heading towards the car.

  Daniel watched as the cop walked up to his car, saw his light flash on and splash across the highway before pointing towards him. All of life’s a stage he told himself.

  Daniel shielded his eyes with the hand that held a cig, from an imposing giant figure that beamed an encompassing white solitary forever.

  “Can I help you officer?” Asked Daniel in his best deep throated and professional tone with that hint of unmistakable charisma tagged with a small stubbled smile.

  “License and registration.” The light said in a surprisingly childish but slimy and male voice. Daniel grabbed his wallet which was in his front pocket, pulled his license. He grabbed the insurance from the sun visors mouth and handed both of them through the open window.

  The light suddenly like a prison tower moved it’s laser perception to the paperwork now in the officer’s hands. The very overweight, ginger, mustachioed officer that Daniel could now see. Egg-like thought Daniel as he watched the officer begin to make strange noises and odd movements, like dancing?

  Officer Lebrowski couldn’t fucking believe his eyes. He started dancing a little bit just from excitement without knowing it. He thought that glizzy would be the highlight and he had no idea just how lucky he would be tonight! When he first saw him sitting in the car he thought that he looked familiar but he must not be wearing makeup or something, Lebrowski thought and chuckled a bit. Daniel Fucking Roberts! The, Daniel Fucking Roberts! How ironic that he would run into Ohio’s Daniel Roberts, host and creator of my all time favorite podcast, The RnR, Roberts’ Report!

  Collecting himself, Lebrowski took a breath and then turned on his heel, facing the car once again and staring into the eyes of Daniel, his own sparkling as a smile reaches towards them.

  “Are you the same Daniel that hosts that true crime and conspiracy podcast?” He asked.

  Daniel couldn’t believe the coincidence of running into one of his fans, let alone one that was a cop. Sure, he had encounters with fans but it was few and far between especially since he’s found The Truth, stumbled upon it really. Reddit has started theories on why he hasn’t had an episode in months pointing to his last one on Project Rainbow and the one on Tulpas, but if they only knew the real truth. Daniel’s mouth smiled. Only he could know the truth. They wouldn’t tell these people, these sheep that follow their words as gospel. In one ear and then twisted inside their broken minds, turning it into something ugly. Rotten from the inside is what they all are, and soon they... we will be few and far, so far, in between. Daniel felt the rope tighten, and gripped the strains with his life.

  “Yes, guilty I’m afraid. Are you a fan?” Daniel pointed at the officer accusing.

  “Huge! You’re the fucking king dude! I was totally obsessed with your take on chaos magick and, and your JFK take…legendary!” He blushed a little. Daniel couldn’t help but imagine this whale of a man, red and sweating, hairy and naked as he furiously attacked himself to completion on a sigil written with pen on a ripped page of his police notebook.

  “Careful with that stuff it’s dangerous” Daniel laughed, “Hey, you know, I’m on my way home from a book signing. You hear about my book that came out last year?” the officer nodded excited. “I think I have a couple copies in the back, I could give you a signed copy if you’d like?” The Devil reminded Daniel of the pistol under the seat with images of brains exploding.

  “Are you trying to bribe me?” asked the officer, pointing almost in an attempt to copy Daniel’s joking accusations.

  “Of course not, I’ve done nothing wrong.” Daniel smiled, raising licked clean hands almost innocently. “Right?”

  “Heh.” the cop let out air in a huff of laugh “hehe you we’re going eighty in a sixty-five, buut I think a warning and a promise that you’ll drive safer in the future might be enough.” He began to hand back Daniel’s papers, “We need you out there uncovering the…” the officer paused as the light temporarily blinded Daniel’s bloodshot gray-blue eyes then stopped on the body, blanket covered in the passenger’s seat.

  “Oh shit. Whose that?” the officer jumped back a bit and pointed.

  “Oh.” Daniel said nonchalant, then in a quieted voice, “My wife...” His voice cracked, he saw images of his own wife’s face. Eyes cut from their sockets, knife in hand, memories taken, threats of more than his love’s death but even the images of past happiness, back when the un-waking nightmare began.

  “Excuse me, my wife’s been up all day helping me with the signing, and I’m afraid she caught a bad bug and has been dead asleep the last hour.” The Devil said with Daniel’s mouth, taking control. He looked over at her briefly than straight into the officer’s eyes, “I think she really needs the rest.” Daniel smiled with his mouth, eye’s melting into blackness.

  Lebrowski stared at the pale forehead peaking out from the top of the blanket, the scalp looked pulled back like she was starting to go bald. Lebrowski felt a pit in his stomach, his mind felt fuzzy like he got up too fast. How could he be so dim, such a fucking fan boy with a loud mouth! Everyone’s right to think he’s such a buffoon, a fucking loser. A darkness gripped his curdling insides with a depression that he hadn’t felt since high school. He remembered being naked and afraid in the schools locker room, crying as they laughed at his penis. Then he was back a tear forming but the thought, the images gone.

  Lebrowski thought, he should absolutely for-go the book altogether, just forgetting about it and really showing his Loyalty and professionalism; But part of him told him to wait. Maybe he did really, really want it. He knew about the book but never got it, listened to the audio book which was way better but having that in his collection would be sick! His stomach pinched hard and it felt like this was the hardest decision he had to make in a long time. He was being torn apart inside, but for once he wanted to be cool. He flashed Daniel in eyes once more with the flashlight, to double check, or maybe it was just for fun before setting it to the ground and reaching for his side pocket.

  “You know what, that’s okay. No need with the book, get your wife home safe.” He handed Daniel his card, “Here’s my card if you need anything let me know and maybe I’ll go to a signing another time.”

  “Thank you, officer..” Daniel looked at the card, “Chuck Lebrowski, I really appreciate that, and I’ll be sure to get you that book, I won’t forget you.”He pointed again and his voice made Chuck’s bowels quiver.

  “It’s my pleasure.” Chuck said rubbing his belly with a sigh before hitting the roof twice, softly the second time, “You have a nice evening.” Then Chuck waddled back to his cruiser dreamily.

  The car pulled off and raced away down the highway disappearing before Chuck even sat down but all he was concerned with was replaying it all over in his head and figuring out what episode of The Richards’ Report to listen to first. God he was a genius! Soon The, Daniel Richards would be calling him! That’s when he realized it.