This definitely wasn’t how I imagined spending my Friday night, but what I can I say, I’m here now. I really do wish I wasn’t here dragging this lifeless body that’s twice my size across the stiff sands of this beach. At least the dark of the night will allow me to take breaks every few feet.

  I have no one to blame for this but myself. If only he had listened to me when he had the chance, but his pride stopped him from that. Now I’m left to deal with his mistake and his dead body. Must be my lucky day.

 It was just supposed to be the usual grab and take. That’s how I usually go about my night when it comes to breakfast. But damn me for wanting a little bit more than usual tonight. Plus it didn’t help that his blood tasted  sweeter than most thanks to the wine he had. 

  I pleaded with him just let me take a quick taste and I’ll be on my way. But he had to try and be a big tough guy and made the mistake to take on a 200 year old vampire. I did what I had to, I killed him. And now I’m stuck with the job of having to get rid of his body all before the sun comes up. I can’t risk his body being found with my bite marks in his neck and I’ll be damned if I turn to dust because of this meathead. Lucky me right ?

Canon: 4th Season.

The sky was bright with stars and the light reflected off the water and lit up the North Avenue Beach in Chicago. The beach closed at 7pm and it was after 8pm when a figure walked slowly along the beach. This figure carried another smaller figure.

A sigh was heard. “Balki… tell me again why we couldn’t just look at the stars at the planetarium?”

The two men came into view, with Balki carrying Larry as though they had just finished a round of The Dance Of Joy. “Cousin, we can see so many stars from the beach—“

“A now closed for over an hour beach. I’ve probably got a parking ticket because the Mustang’s been in the lot for so long!” Larry moaned, interrupting Balki.

Balki shrugged. It was all he could do while carrying Larry. “Cousin, how your ankle feel?”

“Still hurts. Guess I twisted it real good. Why did we have to go out on the dock anyway?” Larry asked. He didn’t wait for an answer before continuing, “Maybe you should get a telescope for your star gazing.”

“Oh, I do’n need a telescope. I do my star gazing on tv,” Balki replied.

“No…” Larry paused, considering how to explain but shook his head.

They finished the walk to the parking lot in silence. When they arrived at the Mustang, Larry frowned. “Oh no, they did leave a ticket. Set me down so I can look at it.”

Balki set Larry down by the driver’s side windshield wiper and Larry leaned on his uninjured side and grabbed the paper tucked under the wiper. He looked at it, then sighed. “Looks like Harriet’s husband got me off the hook.” He handed Balki the note.

Balki looked at it and smiled. “I like Carl.”

Larry nodded. “Me too. Let’s go home.”

“Cousin, I drive us home,” Balki said, moving around Larry and blocking him.

“It’s my car,” Larry argued.

Balki shook his head.

“It is so!” Larry exclaimed, frustrated.

“No, Cousin, I know its your car but your foot is hurt. I have two unhurt feet. I can drive us,” Balki said.

Larry frowned. “You’ll have to move the seat and the mirror after I got both right where I want them…” He was bordering on whining.

“Cousin, I put both back where you want. I do that since I got my driver’s license three years ago,” Balki said.

“Wait… ohh…” Larry’s eyebrows lifted in realization. “I can’t believe I never noticed I didn’t have to adjust anything after you used the Mustang. You always put everything back the way I had it.”

Balki nodded, smiling. “Can I drive us home, Cousin?”

Larry dug in a pocket and pulled out a keychain. “Thank you, Balki.”

“Your car has keys?” Balki asked innocently.

“What!?l” Larry exclaimed, eyes wide and eyebrows as high as they’ll go.

“Gotcha!” Balki exclaimed then slid into the driver’s seat.

Larry meanwhile looked stunned and had a hand over his chest. He looked up at the sky. “Now I know why Sanford always said he was going to join Elizabeth.” He shook his head and used the hood to limp around to the passenger side and got in.

The Mustang’s lights came on then it slowly left the parking lot.

-End-

Issac took a deep breath as he carried his twin brother across the beach.

After doing this for about five more minutes, he stopped and looked down at his arms to look at his brother, Isaiah who in return, was giving him a stupid, blinding smile.

“Don’t give me that look.” Issac said sternly, “You knew it was a stupid idea to get me up, come out here for god knows what and jump off that rock and sprain your ankle, you’re lucky I’m even carrying you along right now, and not back to the beach house, where we should be.”

Isaiah huffed, “This is why everyone says I’m the funner twin, you have no sense of adventure Issa.”

Issac rolled his eyes, “Okay. First of all, no one says that. Second of all, ‘funner’ is not even a word. And lastly, forgive me for not thinking that carrying my twin brother on the beach at three am when I could be sleeping is not my definition of a good time.”

Isaiah opened his mouth to retort, only to promptly close it.

“Yea, that’s what I thought.” Issac said as he continued walking, Isaiah still in his arms.

“Okay, we’re at your stupid ‘beach spot.’ Now what did you want to show me?”

Suddenly, Isaiah jumped down from Issac’s hold. “Thanks for the ride brother.” He said to Issac as he made himself comfortable on the beach.

Issac looked at his brother wide eyed, “Wait you mean to tell me, that you didn’t even sprain your ankle?”

Isaiah nodded.

“But.. why?” Issac asked, completely lost.

Isaiah shrugged, “It was a way to make sure you wouldn’t bail on me.”

Issac took off his glasses to wipe at his eyes. “Why the hell do I put up with you?” He asked, more to himself.

“Because you love me?”

Issac gave Isaiah a look as he put his glasses back on, “Yea, ‘love.’

Accepting his fate, Issac sat down next to his brother. “What was the real reason for dragging me out here? Be honest.”

Isaiah’s hands fluttered at his sides as he smiled excitedly and glanced at the digital clock on his wrist.

“Just look up at the sky... any moment now..”

Confused, Issac did as he was told and looked up at the sky.

Suddenly, shooting stars started whizzing by. The whole night sky lighting up with them.

Issac watched in awe. As did Isaiah, with his hands flapping at his sides, and he rocked back and forth a bit.

“Do you like it?” Isaiah asked him after a while.

Issac smiled at his twin.
“It’s beautiful,” he told him, “but how did you know this was going to happen?”

“I found a paper of important astrology dates in grandma and grandpa’s attic.” Isaiah explained, “thought we might enjoy it tonight.”

Suddenly, Issac didn’t feel irritated at his brother for dragging him out here anymore. If he hadn’t, he would’ve slept through this.

“Hey, Issa?” Isaiah called.

Issac hummed in response.

“Happy seventeenth birthday.”

A/N: lol, I really have a problem with following prompts, it’s not perfect but I hope you enjoyed!

A man is carrying a body across a beach at night. This is on the outer perimeter of the Upper level. Fresh water trickles from the Upper into the Middle and finally into the Lower. This particular beach is beautiful. Artificial but beautiful. Swimmers must be careful as going to far to the edge as the water falls will likely lead to their downwards fall into the Middle.

There are certain people in this richer community in the Upper who have their enemies in the same level smuggled out by use of the edge beach waterfalls. Anyone could be thrown down to the lower levels but that has some risk of being found out. There’s a lot more surveillance in the Upper and security is taken more seriously. However, an edge beach waterfall is more convenient. It is less likely for them to die on the way down and additionally, there are warnings on the beach saying that swimming in the edge beach water is at the swimmer’s risk. And so we reach to why this man is carrying this body.

This man is a smuggler and he has been paid to demote this unlucky soul to the Middle. He wraps the body in a life jacket. The body has been wrapped in a water soluble wrapping and so after some minutes in the water, the person inside is able to swim free.

He places the body in the water and nudges it in the direction of the edge’s waterfall.

Tears stream down his face as he carries her down the beach. He forced himself to stifle a sob as he sets her down gently on the ground, her fuchsia hair falling over her closed eyes. He brushes it from her eyes but covers her temple gently. He puts the shovel hard into the wet sand. Again. Again. He can’t prevent the guttural sob that forces it’s way out of him. The hole gets bigger. Bigger. He glared at the ground as though it’s angered him. It’s finally big enough to accommodate her. He lowers her kindly into the grave. The sand goes over her slender body. The grave fills slowly as he sobs more. He forces the shovel into his foot. He needs to feel something. Something other that depression. He smooths the ground over. A wave covers her grave. He’ll never see her again. He bends over her grave site and feigns composure. “That’s what you get when you impersonate my daughter you sadist.” He stares up. “Don’t worry Maggie, I’m coming to find you.”

Lucas carried his body across the beach at night. He remembered that he and his friend would play there since his friend was young. Before all the weird stuff happened. Since before they came.

He’d never seen one of them and he was certain he never wanted to. Especially not since the night they took his family. He’d been down in the basement getting wood.

Suddenly his mother screamed. “He’s innocent. He didn’t do it. He was here.”

Then another voice. Deeper, more mechanical, replied. “Evidence is irrefutable. Evidence is proof of guilt. Trial not required.” It must’ve spotted his brother as it continued “Child will be taken in to state care. You will face punishment for siding with a criminal.”

The room was filled with the sound of his family putting up a valiant fight against the ‘thing’.

Eventually it went quiet. Lucas knew they’d lost. He came out of the basement to find everything was strewn around the place. His family was gone and the life he knew was over.

Lucas sat down with his friend beside him, together they planned out the best way to get out of there. So after some time. Lucas got his fathers large truck. In the back he put as many supplies as he deemed ‘essential’ as he could find. He also took a few things for trade.

Looking at his friend with a smile he grinned “I’ll get some tooling work to earn credit.” His friend nodded in response.

They also took the mobile fuel tank. Then, with one last look back, Lucas and his friend took off. All was well for the first month or so. Until one night, out of the blue, his friend was shot. As the bullet hit him he let out a piercing scream. Despite Lucas’s best efforts, a few days later, his friend died in his arms.

That was why he as here. He’d managed to find a boat and he’d prepped it ready to go. There was no way his friends body was going to be thrown in to a communal grave pit. He deserved better than that.

Walking towards the boat, he lay his friends body onto the carefully prepared pyre that lay within. The smell of the fuel that he’d poured over it was strong. It was high tide so the boat floated easily. After a few false starts it began to burn.

It was a clear moonlit night, the sky full of stars. The moon cast its eerie shadows across the scene.

Lucas stood back and said “”George I’ll miss you. You were the best friend I could’ve asked for. I raised you from a puppy. I watched you grow. We had so much fun on this beach I thought it was the right place to say goodbye.” Wiping the tears from his eyes he continued, “I’ll make them pay I promise. Just not tonight .... tonight it’s time to say... to say. Goodbye old friend.”

As he reaches the rocks he carefully lays aunt Evie on the water’s edge letting her Wet sand scraped of the oversized pants of jasper, a poor trapped soul roped into something he had no control over.. In his arms, the corpse of his dead aunt lay cradled limp. He didn’t want to kill her but demelza… he had no choice. The cult he was born into, the fort on the hill, demelzas watchdogs. A foot hold in everything, life was strict no one crosses demelza but how is that a family? Well I guess it’s only his die hard believers who believe that, Jasper has other ideals..

He looked down at his aunt, non-stop apologies stringing from his chapped lips. Jas remember demelzas talk on how 7 bodies must be sacrificed to become a part of this family, what he never mentioned was how close to “home” these sacrifices had to be. This was Jaspers 3rd body, he got better at carrying the dead weight but less so the voices they left behind. The wind talks, we all know a howl in the night a whisper in a door crack but what no one hears are the words. The words the dead carry across, this night the moon shone high and the screams reached the just as high.

Spotting the rocks, jasper slowed his pace, his breathing picking up. That’s where he was shown, where she must lay but what if he wasn’t ready to say goodbye? Can you ever be? His feet trudged through the sand now, almost tripping on his pant legs, the voices became louder again. As if he could feel the breath on the back of his neck, goose bumps raided his skin. One voice stood out among the crowd in the wind, his brother. They had made plans to escape Demelza, Mark was already a part of this group of watchdogs but also longed to escape save his brother from the sights he had to endure on a daily basis. But the night before their planned departure Jas was called upon, to be told his first victim. It was the woods to the east where he buried mark.

He laid his Aunt down leaving her feet be washed with the growing tide. He begins to paw at the sand, the damp crystals beginning to cut deeper under his nails. Grunting he dug for what felt like hours and could’ve been he was so lost he had no clue of time it was washed out, after he was as satisfied as could be with a grave or a loved one he lifted her body up and once she was placed, arms crossed in the pitiful grave, her voice was the only one heard along with the gentle purring of the waves growing closer.

How many voices would end up lost, how many words would never be spoken, all because a coward couldn’t run away?

The wind, like a haunting whisper, trembled her swinging legs, pulling them to and throw like an after thought of life. Did something above want her sinews to tie back together, clear the deathly fog from her eyes? Did it regret ripping the soul from her frail, rattling chest- did it have the capacity to regret at all? It was clear she was gone even if nature goaded her to wake. He could tell well enough when her pulse escaped his denial soaked hands, they reeked of desperation, like a child grasping and cooing in a plead for warmth.

Beat.

The phantom breath of her heart drummed against his ears. He heard it even then as he scooped the crawling blood back into her wound. It was still hot from the gunpowder, almost mimicking human temperature, it fuelled his hope so pitifully he had to cry. A rule he vowed never to break. But it was her, so entirely her that his chest cracked and mind numbed. Was it his rib? He thought so as the vivid pain creeped back in. How was she so strong yet so frail?

Beat.

What else was he meant to do? He could still hear it, there was no reason to call for help. he could handle it, he could bring her back exactly like before- with the wrinkles curling at her eyes when she smiled, the flutter of her eyelashes upon her cheeks and the deep dips in her dimples. He would be the Doctor Frankenstein but she wouldn’t be the monster, she would be more. He reached the pier with an exhausted smile and his legs numb to the ache. The moon was just peeking over the soaked wood and stars hardly there with the light pollution but, it was still the most beautiful scene as this would be the night she would return.

Beat.

Her skin was now a greenish-grey and her body bloated so much it could float upon the clouds. Her eyes were closed for if he opened them nothing would shine through, he even now smelt a subtle hint of death that was seeped into the marrow of her bones. Was she ever more beautiful?

Beat.

The moon glimmered through the air, still pregnant with grief and but mostly hope as he continued onward across the sand. It pierced his sensitive feet, leaving a ghost’s touch of warmth from the daytime sun but there was nothing more comforting than that natural sensation. She was all for nature- the wisps of autumn wind, the rustle of lively trees, the touch of wet, supple grass beneath her feet. He was so much closer to his love now as he carried her to her grave. It would be beautiful under the bed of golden sand and waves of sparkling salt water; he had picked the perfect place.

Beat.

She would even meet his family. And soon enough together they would be: there and gone like footsteps beside the sea.

Okay, so, before you say anything, no, I’m certainly NOT keeping a diary! All I am doing is keeping a record of my time travelling escapades. My name is Dr ◼️▪️◼️◼️◼️◼️◼️ and I came from the future. I’ve jumped across many different time periods. What’s my reason, you may ask? To cause time paradoxes for laughs, of course! I built my own time machine and let me just say, it works like clockwork!

Anyway, so, as much as I want to keep bragging about myself, I better get onto the matter at hand.

Today was like any other day for me. I jumped across different time periods, leaving a trail of havoc and mayhem in my path. All was going well... Until I found myself at an empty, deserted beach during the middle of Summer 2020.

It was abnormal, seeing the beach as empty as this. The sun was splitting the skies and there wasn’t a cloud to be seen! My curiousity got the better of me and I started to look around the barren, deserted beach. Nothing but sand, sea and more sand...

However, that’s when I had suddenly caught a glimpse of something. Something that wasn’t sand or sea.

I slowly trudged to the foreign object that was lying in the sand...

I couldn’t believe it. It was a man. A young man who looked no older than I. His face looked to be contorted in pain. His eyes were squeezed shut and his hair looked brittle and unkept. His skin was pale, almost alarmingly so.

I leaned down and picked the unconscious man up.

For some reason, something about him just seemed so... Familiar... Like I knew him or something... (Time travelling has messed up my mind and corrupted my memories to the point that I sometimes forget who I am).

I wasn’t sure what I was going to do with the man, but I knew that it’d be better for me to take him away from here... I knew it wasn’t going to be an easy task, especially with carrying this man and trying to trudge through this damn sand (which had gotten everywhere. In my boots, in my clothes and even in my gloves!). It was a barren wasteland alright, especially now that the one man lying on it was gone.

Without having much of a clue what to do, I took him back to my time machine... But not before an unsuspecting witness had seen me carrying the man’s body! The woman who saw me suddenly screamed a blood-curdling scream and within moments, the beach was suddenly flocked full of people! People wearing face masks and carrying guns, knives, etc...

What the bloody hell was this?

The same woman then screamed again. “GET HIM! GET REVENGE FOR THAT POOR DOCTOR!”

It was at that moment that I hastily turned on my time machine. It picked a random year to travel to and the world around us suddenly transformed into a swirling blue vortex.

The crescent moon barely gave off enough light to illuminate the waves crashing on the beach that night, but anyone looking out onto the sand may have seen the odd line dug into the sand stretching from one end of the beach to the other. Had they have been there moments earlier they would have seen the tall man in the long black coat and wide brimmed hat dragging the lifeless body of a young man or woman across the beach. If he had been there to dump the body, why not take it straight to the water and let the tide pull it out to sea? Where was he taking it? What would he do with it?

The strange thing is this is not an unusual sight. Many people have come across it, both locals and tourists visiting the island. The remote beach on the north side of the island was a hidden gem, a diamond in paradise. The resorts and hotels were all on the south side of the island, in and around the city of Dis Lago. A tropical jungle covered most of the island, and one long road wrapped around the perimeter with the occasional homestead and fruit or coffee farm along the way. The only way on or off the island was the port outside of Dis Lago, which serviced both ship and sea planes. Ask any local, and they’ll tell you that for over one hundred years or so, the Dragging Man as they call him, has been seen, or at the very least people have come across the long marks in the sand.

It’s always a night with a crescent moon and low tide, always the black coat and wide brimmed hat. What varies from each telling of the story, is who’s body is being dragged. Elia De la Court, an eighty eight year old woman who had spent her entire life on the island once told me about the time she saw the Dragging Man. I knew her from town and she invited me over one evening to talk and eventually our conversation had come around to the local legend.

“Oh, it was round about the early fifties I think.” She said as she rocked back and fourth with ease in the rocking chair on her porch. She’d pause now and again to sip the rum drink she had made for us. “I had been out there with my beau, Killian, and we wanted to get out of town and have some privacy. We both were living with family, as most people did this island until you’re married. I know you youngin’s these days like to have your own places, but back then it’s just the was it was. Well, he parked his car not too far from that little beach as we had gone there plenty of times during the day either with a few friends or just together for a nice day alone. We had been sitting there on the hood of his car, looking out at the stars and he asked me if I heard something. We sat up and listened but it was hard for me to hear anything other than the waves crashing slowly in the darkness. Killian got up, leaned in through his car window and turned on the lights.”

Elia paused for a moment and seemed to be lost in thought. She took another sip of her drink and put it back down.

“What I seen I ain’t never thought I would. I don’t want to see it again either. You know, the old timers tell stories to scare the youngin’s and you just think they’re stories. You don’t ever think you’re gonna get into a situation where you find out they’re real. Well, I found out that night that The Dragging Man was very real. Killian’s headlights illuminated the beach in front of us, and right there maybe twenty feet ahead of us was this tall man in a long black coat and this wide brimmed hat. You don’t wear something like that on the island unless it’s raining. Most days it’s too hot and even the nights stay warmer than what you’d need a coat for. Anyways, he had his back to us and as soon as them lights hit him, he stopped moving all together and just stood there looking away from us for a moment. I noticed the legs laid out in front of him. They weren’t moving, one of the feet was missing it’s shoe. That’s when he slowly turned his head and looked at us over his shoulder. I could barely see anything except that thin nose, his white skin, and those beady little eyes that glowed a vibrant dark red in the lights. They had that shimmer to them like a cat’s eyes when light reflects out of them.”

Listening to her tell this story, I realized my heart was beating furiously in my chest, and I had leaned forward in my chair. I took a drink of my rum punch and leaned back into the chair to let her continue.

“I couldn’t see his mouth, but the way his cheek moved I knew he was smiling at us. That’s all it took for me to scream and jump off the hood of Killian’s car and dive into the passenger seat. He jumped into the drivers seat without grabbing his blanket off the hood, started that car up and we couldn’t drive back to town fast enough. When we got back we stopped at The Jack’s Leg, the only bar in town back then, and Killian tried to tell a few of our friends what happened. Before he could finish one of the old timers in the corner started to laugh this uncomfortable, almost forced laugh. He said ‘You seen him. You seen that Dragging Man.’ I realized everyone in the bar had stopped their own conversations and were silently listening to Killian tell the story. The old man looked at the bartender and said ‘Better call Henry Moss over at the hotel, tell them they’re probably missing one of their tourists. Dragging Man got himself another one tonight.”