Crypts & Corpses

October 29th

The announcement hit the internet like a bomb.

Cochran Brothers Tech, famous for their viral mobile apps, had outdone themselves this time.  Crypts and Corpses, the latest offering from the tech giant, promised to bring Halloween to life like never before.  It was an augmented reality game designed to transform the last 2 days of the month into a twisted scavenger hunt.  The trailer alone was enough to send chills down spines–grinning skeletons, decaying zombies, and creepy crypts, all superimposed onto real-world locations through your phone.

David stood in line at the coffee shop, scrolling through his phone as the buzz about the game raced across social media.  His group chat was already lit.

“Yo, you see the new Cochran game? This is gonna be sick!”

“I’m stoked to nail some zombies!”

David’s heart galloped as he read.  Cochran Brothers had a reputation for pushing the boundaries of mobile gaming, and this sounded like the craze to end all crazes.  What could be more exciting than storming the streets, competing to tag virtual corpses, and earning points for swag?  The game promised to be the next Pokemon Go–but a quantum leap beyond.

The app’s concept was simple: for the duration of the game, random places would be tagged as “crypts” on the app’s map.  Players (called “gravediggers”) could visit these real-world locations and use their phones to reveal hidden bodies–grotesque, cartoonish “corpses” that only existed in the digital space.  Each tagged corpse earned points: the first player to tag a corpse bagged the most points, then the value of the corpse diminished with each successive tag.   Points could be traded for in-game badges advertising the “gravedigger’s” prowess, discounts on other Cochran games–or cold, hard cash.

David scrolled through the app’s description on the website, watching the promotional video flash images of laughing players tagging glowing, animated bodies.   And the sound effects were to die for: cackling witches, moaning zombies and screaming skulls.   For starters.

David viewed the demo with rapt attention.  His eyes widened as he read the game’s top prize: $100,000 for the winning player!  The prize was set to be announced at 11:59 on Halloween night, one second before midnight.

A chyron slid across the bottom of the screen: “The fun begins at midnight! Download now!  Win 100K!”

A countdown written in Gothic font ticked down the time before game-launch: 8 hours, 27 minutes and 11 seconds.

David glanced around the crowded café, bustling with anticipation.   In just a few hours, Crypts and Corpses–or “C&C” as the company nicknamed it–would transform the entire country into a freaky virtual cemetery!

David gleefully downloaded the app.   As he did, his eyes caught a glimpse of the fine print at the bottom of the page, labeled “Legal Disclaimer.” He leaned in closer, chuckling as he read aloud:

“No actual zombies were harmed in the creation of this game.  All Jack-o’-lanterns raised on free-range pumpkin farms.  Any resemblance of in-game witches to Martha Stewart is entirely unintentional.  All corpses are fictitious, and any resemblance to real persons, living, dead–or undead–is purely coincidental.  Maybe.”

His laughter faded as he continued to read.  The tone shifted, the words becoming darker:

“Cochran Brothers Tech LLC is not responsible for any injuries or damages that may occur during gameplay. Participation is at your own risk. The creators reserve the right to terminate players who fail to abide by game rules.  Decisions of game judges are final and unappealable.”

David tried to laugh, but it felt forced.  The last part sounded like serious legalese.   But it had to be a joke, right?  As he stared at the screen, an unsettling unease fluttered in his stomach.

Shaking his head, David dismissed the odd sensation as mere nerves and turned his focus back to the excitement popping around him.

October 30th

David was smiling when he woke up.  It was still October, but to David it felt like Christmas morning: Day One of C&C! David rushed through his shower, then threw on his clothes, including his favorite Halloween hoodie–the one with “The Great Pumpkin Lives!” emblazed on the front.

He raced downstairs to the kitchen, springing three steps at a time.  He booted up the percolator and soon the scent of pumpkin spice wafted through the air, an aroma that conjured up memories of Halloween past.  David started clacking on his phone, excitement bubbling inside him like a witches’ cauldron.

After scrolling through a few notifications, he landed on the top news story: “Cochran Brothers Launch Halloween Event: ‘C&C’ Goes Live!”

A grin spread across his face as he read the article detailing how players were already tagging corpses and competing for prizes.  Reports mentioned traffic jams and crowd surges as eager players flash-mobbed unsuspecting public locales.  There had been a few injuries and fender-benders, but nothing serious.

One crotchety old man was interviewed, shaking his fist at the chaotic scene outside his porch. “I wish those kids would get off my damn lawn!” he grumbled, his frustration a comical reminder of how the game was already upending neighborhoods across America.

David laughed at the oldster.  “Get off my damn lawn?  Did he really just say that?!”  David thought the geezer looked like Crypt Keeper from Tales From the Crypt, complete with a ghoulish, half-dead countenance and tattered clothes.  David wished he knew where he lived.  How much fun it would be to TP his house on Hallows Eve!

“Today’s the day!” David shouted and pumped his fist.

He checked the game-app on his phone. The countdown timer ticked down to the game’s finish-line, 38 hours, 45 minutes, and 23 seconds away.

David poured a cup of coffee. Just as he took a sip, his phone buzzed with a game update.

“The game is live! Hunt for crypts in your area! Tag corpses! Win 100K!”

There was no time to lose. It was time to hit the streets.  David grabbed a granola bar and rushed out the door, his heart thumping.

The sun sparkled brightly, and the neighborhood zizzed with bustle.  As David booted up the game, other players scampered past him, their faces buried in their phones.  Laughter and shouts rang through the air.  David already felt a sense of bonded camaraderie with these strangers, all united by the thrill of the Best Game Ever.

Arriving at the park, David spotted the first crypt icon blinking on his app.  It was nestled beneath a sprawling oak, its branches swaying gently in the breeze like jagged arms inviting a hug.  He approached the tree, adrenaline coursing through him as he raised his phone to scan the area.

A cartoonish corpse popped on David’s screen, sprawled out comically on the grass, with googly eyes and a goofy grin.  It donned jeans and a t-shirt reading, “Grateful Dead.”  David snickered as he tagged the corpse, his phone vibrating with a spooky cackle as it rung up his newly won points.

“Gotcha!” he exclaimed.  The hunt was on.  Players skipped from one location to another, one crypt after another, tagging corpses and racking up points.  The excitement was mounting with every ping of their phones.

Just as he was about to tag another corpse, David spotted a familiar figure approaching.  It was Raven, her signature Goth style unmistakable even from a distance.  Today, she wore a black sweatshirt emblazoned with a faded graphic of a skull and the words, “We ARE The Weirdos, Mister!” Raven’s Goth uniform was rounded out with combat boots and a plaid skirt that swayed as she walked.  She was clutching her phone like a talisman.

“Hey, gourd-head!” she called, her voice dripping with her signature sarcasm.

“Nice threads, Raven!” David replied, grinning.  “Planning a tea party with the dead?”

“You know it!” she shot back, her dark eyes—black contact lenses—glittering like onyx.

“I’ll take a wild guess,” David said, pointing at Raven’s phone.  “Corpse hunting?”

“Hell to the yeah! I just bagged three of the nasties! First tag, maximal points!” Raven shouted, her arms sweeping the park.

David laughed.   “Wanna hunt together?”

“Sure! Let’s see how many points we can rack up before sunset!”  She reflected, then added: “But if we win the hundred grand, it’s a 60-40 split, since I’m the brains of this operation!”

David laughed.  “Deal!”

As they stalked corpses together, their dark banter turned the adventure into a shared quest. They raced about, tagging virtual beasties, swapping insults, and fantasizing about what they’d do with the hundred thou when they won.

But as daylight dwindled, David noticed an arresting shift.  The corpses they were tagging began to resemble real people more and more. The cartoonish animations were fading away, replaced by avatars that appeared…very human.

David did a double-take when the game displayed a corpse swinging by the neck from a tree, his tongue lolling from his mouth, his lifeless blue eyes bulging.

The corpse, David thought, could pass for a twin of the crotchety Crypt Keeper quoted on the news that morning.  David dutifully tagged it and bagged his points, but frowned as he heard the now-familiar cackle announcing his increased score.

Raven noticed her friend’s shifted mood.  “David, what’s up?” she asked.

“Nothing, it’s just…well, it’s getting a little weird, don’t you think?” David glanced around at the players milling about.  Their enthusiasm seemed to be morphing too, alloyed now with confusion, as if they couldn’t quite believe the realism they were seeing on their screens.

Raven let out a laugh. “Duh, that’s the point, dummy!  Halloween, remember?  Bring on the weirdness!”

Then a boy sprinted past them, his face pale with terror.  “They’re gonna kill me! They’re gonna KILL me!” he screamed, his visceral voice ringing through the park.

David stared at the boy sprinting away.  “That kid looked serious, Raven.”

“As if!” Raven replied, but David could see a hint of tension in her eyes.  Her excitement now carried the undertone of apprehension.

“Maybe we should head home,” David suggested.

“Oh, shut up!” Raven blurted.  “That kid was just trying to spook us!”

“Well, he succeeded,” David admitted.  He tried to get back into the spirit, spending the rest of the afternoon with a still-enthused Raven.  But he couldn’t completely shake the feeling that something was…off.

He glimpsed at the app’s countdown clock, ticking down to midnight on Halloween.

31 hours…12 minutes…52 seconds…

October 31st (9:05 AM)

David jolted awake to the sound of his phone buzzing incessantly on the nightstand.  Still groggy, he grabbed it, squinting at the flashing screen.  His heart raced as he saw multiple notifications from the C&C app.

David clicked on the top news story, and a sense of unease washed over him as he read the headline: “C&C Players Report Realistic Corpses; Backlash Ensues!” The article detailed what David already knew: the game’s “corpses” had started looking increasingly lifelike, causing players to believe they were seeing people they recognized.

David clicked the video clip accompanying the article.  The CEO of Cochran Brothers, a jovial-looking fellow, was attempting to spin the situation.  “It’s all in good fun, folks!  Just a bit of Halloween spirit, right?  It’s part of the game!” But even as he smiled, there was an unsettling twitch in his eyes.

A montage of player videos flashed across the screen, showcasing scenes as players reacted to the lifelike corpse avatars.  One video showed a player screaming and tossing away his phone.   Another player looked catatonic, holding up his phone in a shaky hand.  The avatar-corpse looked like a mirror image of the player.

David’s stomach knotted.  This was too sick to be played off as a joke.

The doorbell rang. It was Raven.  “You ready to go out?  One hundred grand beckons!”

“Raven,” David replied, “I think you should see this.”  He scooped up the remote in the living room and flicked on a TV news channel.

A reporter was interviewing a rotund woman in Memphis.  The woman was apoplectic, her hazel eyes flashing with horrified anger.  “The app sent me a corpse that looked just like my mother! I’m gonna sue those bastards!”

The news anchor reappeared, going on to detail that the Memphis woman’s experience was being echoed across America.  “In response to the outrage, representatives of the Federal Trade Commission and Federal Communication Commission have announced that they plan to investigate…”

David turned to his friend.  “Something’s wrong,” he said.  “That woman…”

Raven blew a raspberry.  “Oh, please! Don’t you know a shill when you see one?!  Cochran Brothers obviously paid her to say that!  What better way to stoke up interest in the game? It’s genius, if you ask me!”

David shook his head. “But they said it was happening across the country.”

“Well,” replied, half-heartedly, “the Cochran brothers are billionaires.  They can buy lots of actors to plant fake stories.”  But Raven’s voice betrayed a hint of doubt.

“I don’t know, Raven.”

Raven’s phone buzzed. She brought it to her face.  Exhilaration thrilled through her features.  “No friggin way!” she gasped.

“What?”

“The next crypt?  It’s my old hellhole of a high school!  No way I’m missing out on that corpse!”  She glared at David.   “You gonna go with me?  Or are you gonna wimp out ‘coz you’re too ‘skeered’?”  She sneered as she raised air-quotes around the last word.

David pondered. The thought of Raven fending for herself in the increasingly macabre maelstrom outside made him nervous.  “I’ll go,” he said, trying to sound lighthearted, “if only to keep you from getting into too much trouble.”

Raven cheered and offered a high-five.

October 31st (10:35 AM)

Raven drove them to the school in her black vintage Volkswagon Bug.   David’s eyes teared as Raven chain-smoked one cigarette after another as she drove.  The car inched along at a snail’s pace, since packs of C&C players were darting in and out of traffic, eyes riveted to their phones, chasing the next assigned corpse.

They parked near the school and Raven studied her phone.  Her eyes grew wide.  “Oh, SNAP!”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” Raven cheered.  “The corpse we gotta tag is in the principal’s office…it’s Principal Himbry!  Awesome!”

“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” David replied.  “The school? The principal’s office? We could get arrested for trespassing.”

“Oh, grow a pair!”  Raven scoffed, her eyes narrowing into angry slits. “No way I’m missing out on this!  Himbry must have given me a million detentions when I was here!  He even patrolled the length of my skirt, for friks’ sake!  He made up some nonsense that my clothes didn’t follow the quote-unquote dress code, but that was bullshite.   The perv just wanted an excuse to eye my assets up close!  I’ll be damned if I’m gonna miss a chance to tag his dead ass!”

With a sigh, David surrendered.  He knew he should put his foot down, but he also knew Raven: nothing could stop her when she was on a mission.  “Fine,” he said, trying to be firm.   “But if anything seems off, we’re leaving.”

As they entered the school, the familiar halls felt eerily quiet.  The buzz of students and laughter usually filled the space, but today, a ominous silence hung in the air.

“Weird,” David said.  “Where is everyone?”

Raven shrugged. “Maybe they’re in class. Or attending a Halloween assembly. Or maybe everyone just ditched school to play C&C.”

They made their way to the principal’s office, the walls lined with motivational posters that felt incongruous in the tomb-silent school.

Raven glanced at her phone.  “Ten thousand points to tag Himbry! Hurry!”

They went to the school office–also abandoned–and crept to the principal’s office door.

David’s hand hovered over the doorknob. “Raven, are you sure about this?”

“Do you really gotta ask?!” she laughed, pushing the door.  It opened with a protesting squeal.

The room was dimly lit, papers strewn across the desk as if a storm had blown through.  David felt a foreboding chill.   “Maybe we should turn back,” he suggested weakly.

But Raven was already scanning the room with her phone, excitement bubbling over.  “No way!  I want my ten thousand points!  Where’s the farkin’ corpse?”

Then David saw it. There, slumped over the desk, was Principal Himbry.  His body lay lifeless, a pen still clutched in his cold fingers.  His face was fixed in a rictus of terror.

“Raven!” David’s unbelieving voice trembled as he stepped closer.  “It’s Himbry!  It’s really him!”

Raven froze, her excitement draining as she took in the scene.  “This can’t be happening…”

David staggered back, his mind racing.  “It can’t, but it is.”

They stood in paralyzed silence, reality crashing down around them.

Raven eyed Himbry’s desk.  She squinted, puzzled.  “David?”

“What?”

Raven spoke slowly. “Himbry doesn’t have a phone.  How could the game…?”

Her question was cut off by the boom of the school’s front door banging open.  “Police!” barked a voice.  “Is anybody here?!”

“Let’s go!” David exclaimed.

October 31st (12:45 PM)

David and Raven bolted from the school, adrenaline coursing through their veins.  Their breaths came in frantic bursts, each footfall stoking their panic.  The chill of the autumn air bit at their skin as they sprinted down the sidewalk.

In a split-second decision, they abandoned Raven’s car.  The streets were gridlocked, a cacophony of honking, shouting and smashing metal.  It was pandemonium, the world around them spiraling into a nightmare.

They arrived, breathless, at David’s house.   They burst through the front door and bolted it shut behind them.   David flicked on the TV.

“…reports are flooding in from across the country of C&C players encountering real corpses! Police are struggling to respond to reports of missing persons…” the news anchor’s voice rang out in barely-suppressed panic.

David’s stomach dropped as horrifying images flashed on the screen–unbelieving players surveying grotesque scenes, their shoes dipped in blood. “Federal authorities report that they have been unable to locate the Cochran Brothers’ CEO, Wilfred McCreary.  The Federal Emergency Management Agency is urging players to stay indoors and report any other suspicious activity related to the game to local police…”

“What the hell does that mean?!” Raven muttered, shaking her head, her face ghost-white.   “Report ‘other’ suspicious activity?!  As if people dropping dead at random doesn’t count as ‘suspicious’ enough?!”

Before David could respond, his phone buzzed violently.   He hauled it out, his eyes widening as a notification from the game appeared, the words glowing ominously on the screen: “Don’t be scared, just play!  You’re both in this together!  Win 100K!”

“What the hell?” he breathed, a chill thrilling up his spine.

Raven glanced over his shoulder, her eyes darting between the TV and his phone.  “’You’re both in this together?!  How the hell can the game see us?!”

As if on cue, another notification pinged: “There’s a corpse next door!  5000 points!  Win 100K!”

David’s skin prickled, the weight of the words hanging heavy in the air.  “I don’t know if–“

Raven’s phone buzzed: “Tag the corpses…or you might be next.  Win 100K!”

“What? Why are they sending these? This is beyond farked up!” Raven cried, her fingers trembling over the screen.

“I don’t think ‘they’ are in control anymore,” David mumbled numbly.

“Look!” Raven pointed at the TV.  “The FBI is trying to shut down the C&C server!”

The anchor confirmed Raven’s words. “Despite attempts to shut down the main server, it seems the game has embedded itself in the fabric of the internet, hijacking servers and creating mirror sites of itself.  Authorities are urging people to stay indoors and ignore urgings of the game–”

Then the newscast was interrupted by a blank screen and the trill of a simple tone, familiar and chilling.

An Emergency Broadcast System alert.

October 31st (2:00 PM)

David and Raven stood stock still, mouths agape, as the TV blared the emergency broadcast, the flickering screen casting an ominous glow in the dimly lit room.

“The President has declared a national emergency,” intoned an artificial voice in a metallic monotone, “due to events of an unconventional nature.   You are strongly advised to return to your homes and shelter in place.   You are advised to remain with trusted friends or family members through the duration of this emergency.   Under no circumstances should anyone remain alone. We will provide further details as they become available.   That is all.”

Raven blinked, her expression stricken.  She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn’t find words.

David took her hand in his, trying to offer some semblance of comfort.  “At least we’re not alone.  We’re safe,” he reassured, though the tremor in his voice betrayed his uncertainty.

“Are you kidding me?!” Raven snapped, jolting her hand back, her voice rising. “Who knows who’s ‘safe’ or not?!”

The thud of his heart whooshed in his ears.  “You heard the message.  Maybe the game can only get you if you’re alone.  Like Principal Himbry,” he reasoned, more desperate to convince himself than convince Raven.

Raven snorted.  “Game?!  Does this look like a game to you?!  It’s gone totally rogue!  Even the company’s CEO has jumped ship!”

David’s gaze locked on the TV, the newscast having returned.  Chaos reigned in real-time.  Panicked people were turning on each other now, clawing each other bloody as they stampeded to obey the game’s commands and tag corpses, desperately believing that submitting to the game’s whims was the key to staying alive.

“We can’t even be sure if this quote-unquote game will really end at midnight,” Raven added, “if we even live that long!” She rubbed her temples, trying to stave off a headache. Televised images of bodies in the street made David wonder: Were they killed by the game?  Or by the panic the game had prompted?  It was impossible to tell.

“Raven, I have no idea what’s going on,” David admitted. “I only know one thing.”

“Yeah? And what’s that?!” she shot back.

He gently put his arm around her and leaned closer.  “Nothing’s going to happen to you if I have anything to say about it.”  His voice dropped to a whisper, but it was a vow David meant with all his heart.

Raven’s features softened slightly at his words, the tension in her shoulders easing just a fraction.  She took his hand, the warmth of their connection grounding them amidst the chaos. “Well, me too,” she replied, her voice quieter, but no less sincere.

David’s phone buzzed again.  He looked at the notification:

“50,000 points for every player you eliminate!  Win 100K!”

October 31st (9:00 PM)

As the sun sank beneath the horizon, replaced by the cold glow of the moon, David and Raven were still glued to their screens.  They refreshed news feeds and game notifications with the desperation of drowning souls grasping for a lifeline.  Every threatening ping jarred their reflexes to act, though by now they were numb. The realization was creeping upon them: death was just a matter of time, either caused by the rogue game or the mobs outside.

Sounds of pandemonium invaded the house.  People screaming.  People begging for mercy.  Gunshots. David knew he would carry for the rest of his life—short as that might be—the sound of a desperate young woman’s pleading voice: “Steve! You can’t just leave me like this! Steve!”

Then, with a sudden flicker, the lights dimmed.  A sharp crack followed, plunging them into darkness.

“Shite! Not now!” Raven cried.

David tried to access the power company’s website.  “I can’t get anything,” he muttered, staring at the unresponsive screen.  “Internet’s dead.”

Raven swiped at her phone in disbelief, but when it failed her too, she let out a low growl. Without warning, she hurled her phone against the wall.  It shattered with a satisfying crack, pieces scattering like broken hope.

For the first time in hours, Raven’s lips curled into a genuine smile.  “Now gimme yours,” she demanded.

He raised an eyebrow, but her intent expression made him laugh.  “Sure, why not?” He surrendered his phone.

Raven smashed the phone against the wall with glee.

A beat of silence. “Alone at last,” David finally said, and gave Raven’s hand a gentle squeeze.

Raven groaned.  “Bruh,” she said, “don’t even think about getting sappy on me.   If you’re about to confess some kind of deathbed quote-unquote undying love, I swear…just choke me now.”

David’s laughed honestly for the first time in days.  “No, no,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender.   “What I meant to say is…Raven, you’re the truest friend I’ve ever had.”

The Goth’s smirk softened.  “Back at ‘cha…,” she said, then couldn’t resist adding: “…even if you are a bit emo for my taste.”

They shared the moon-painted darkness, the weight of uncertainty replaced with the lightness of accepted fate.

“So, this is how the world ends,” David said after a moment, his voice reflective.  “Not with a bang.  Not with a whimper.  But with a friggin’ app.  What a bummer.”

Raven shrugged. “Meh.  At least we don’t have to worry about Christmas shopping this year.”

David grinned.  “Small favors.”

After a pause, Raven turned to him, her eyes glinting mischievously in the faint moonlight.  “Hey, do you have a Ouija board?”

David blinked, taken aback by the sudden question.  “Uh, yeah. Why?”

“Well,” Raven pondered, “if an app can kill people for real on Halloween, then maybe a Ouija board can contact the dead for real, too.”

David stared at her for a second, then shrugged.  “I guess I can’t argue with that logic.  Worth a try. Who do you want to contact?”

Raven’s expression softened.  “My dad.”

David felt a pang of sympathy.  “What do you want to ask him?”

Her lips curled into a wry smile.  “The one thing I’ve always wanted to know.”

“What’s that?”

“Whether Heaven has a smoking section, of course!”

David laughed and got up to retrieve the Ouija board.