The Impulse, Chapter 7
Are We Done? Maybe.
The infernal screen split into three pillars of fire, and Lauren was no longer in the woods. Instead, she lay in a hallway, with illumination coming solely from the three fiery figures. The walls were moldy and cracked. The floor beneath her was buckled and cluttered with rubble and refuse. She could see no windows, no doors. The hallway seemed to stretch on forever. She tried to speak, but the destruction to her throat had rendered her mute. However, she felt no pain.
“You don’t need to speak. We can hear your thoughts.”
She couldn’t tell which of the fiery shapes had said that. She thought it might have been all three of them, speaking as one. The voice was vaguely feminine, but it had a warbly, synthesized quality. Not human, but something imitating humanity.
What is this place?
“You’ve entered the liminal zone between life and death. Our name for it is unpronounceable in any human language.”
I’m dying?
The memory of the monstrous man squeezing the life out of her felt both eons ago and all too recent.
“We won’t allow that.”
Who are you?
“We are what you might think of as angels, though none of your sacred texts seem to depict us correctly. Think of us as guardians. Protectors.”
From what?
“From the evil presence inside the man who crushed your throat.”
Well, you’re a little late. He already lopped off my boyfriend’s head and killed that ranger.
“Unfortunately, the Impulse is more often than not several steps ahead.”
But you’re gonna stop him now? Because, and this is just a theory, I don’t think he’s done killing.
“No, Lauren,” they said. “You are.”
Before she could process that bombshell well enough to ask what they meant, the maybe-angels were already upon her. The two on the side had their hands on the shoulders of the middle figure, as the middle one reached for Lauren. One fiery hand pressed against her chest, while another touched her forehead.
Warmth threaded through Lauren’s bloodstream, and something electric pulsated within her frontal lobe. The three pillars of flame once again merged into one opaque screen of rippling reds and yellows before flashing to a deep purple and then extinguishing itself.
When the fire dissipated, Lauren was back on the gravelly path outside the ranger station. She sat up with a hoarse gasp. She could breathe again, and her voice had returned, but it was far from a hundred percent. She shook her head and stood to reorient herself. Her blood thrummed with renewed purpose as she strode away from the ranger station and deeper into the campground.
All right, friends. Here’s the deal: That might be the last of The Impulse you see for a while. I want to take some time to plot out what should happen next, if anything. I mean, I think it’s obvious. Fiery final girl Lauren and murderous mountain man Slater are destined to fight forever, but that isn’t much of a story, is it?
With that in mind, I’ll either leave it at that, or I’ll figure out some more twists and turns. If I decide to continue the story, I will most likely introduce new characters to follow before reintroducing the horror elements. These first seven entries are relentless, if I do say so myself, so I’d like to give my readers (and myself) the chance to breathe if The Impulse is to be a longer piece.
I’ve been in a strange place mentally. Lots of highs, lots of lows. Absolutely NOTHING in the middle, so hey, at least the kids can’t call me “mid” anytime soon.
I posted this Note a couple of weeks ago during a moment of self-doubt.
Shoutout to Sadie Hartmann (aka Mother Horror) for reminding me that true fans will stick around regardless, and that I shouldn’t obsess over things like subscribers. If you follow her online, you already know that she is usually right about this kind of thing.
With that in mind, you can still expect fiction here, but you will also get personal essays, updates on writing life, and probably a whole bunch of random stuff. If you want someone who posts consistently and sticks to the same type of content week in and week out, well, this probably isn’t the newsletter for you. I won’t take it personally.
For the true fans—family, friends, readers old and new—thank you for being here.
My latest book Goddamn Graveyard Zombies is out, and I have a limited number of signed paperbacks on hand. They come with the usual bookmark and sticker, but ALSO, a tiny piece of my brain. Watch the unboxing video I posted to Reels a couple of weeks back.
Currently reading: Depraved by Bryan Smith and The Modern Prometheus by Jayson Robert Ducharme. I grabbed the latter a year or two ago after hearing about it on social media. You might not know this, but I am a Frankenstein junkie and always on the lookout for retellings, analyses, and anything related to Mary Shelley’s iconic book. It’s too early to tell yet, but I suspect Ducharme’s book will deliver. And of course, I’m loving the Smith book. He’s a legend for a reason.
Currently watching: Twin Peaks (again), Six Feet Under, and Home Improvement.
There was an inherit compassion to how David Lynch wrote and filmed his characters, perhaps especially in Twin Peaks. Juxtaposed against the dark elements of the show, it’s truly something special. I’ll never stop missing that man, so I’m glad he’s left us so much we can revisit.
I’m liking Six Feet Under, but I think we’re going to hit pause. Jean wants a newer show, and I can respect that.
I watch Home Improvement to fall asleep. Before that, it was Seinfeld. 90s sitcoms have a deep connection to my inner child, and they put me at ease when it’s time to shut down for the day. Sometimes, I don’t even watch them. I put them on my phone, face my phone down, and just listen to the dialogue and laugh tracks through one headphone. I’ll probably do Cheers next.
All right, my loves. That’s it for now. We’ll talk soon.