Lost Phone

A story about the morning after a wild night.

This was my first short story ever accepted for publication (minus a short story that was accepted many years ago to a website that I’m pretty sure published everything they were sent). The publication that accepted it, Shotgun Horror Clips, has long been out of print so it’s impossible to track down. I thought I would share it here on my Substack.

The woman who answered the door wore lipstick that stood out like a road flare against her pale skin. “Can I help you?” she asked, her voice heavy and dull.

Todd smiled with an awkwardness usually reserved for when he asked his parents for money. “I think I left my phone here?” he said.

She stepped aside and ushered him inside.

The room beyond the door was dark, the lack of lighting being assisted by gray walls and black furniture. “It’s funny, I don’t seem to remember being here last night. I remember going to Chuck’s--you know, the sports bar on Ninth Street--with my buddies, and then we went to this club and met up with these really cool people, then I guess we ended up here because my tracking program says that I left my phone here.”

The sea had more interest in a drop of rain than the woman had interest for Todd’s story. She rummaged through the drawers of a desk in the corner, eventually finding Todd’s lost smartphone. She didn’t bother to give it to him. She merely set it on the desk and huffed, “Here.”

Todd suddenly realized that she was cute and decided that getting her name was more important than getting his phone back. “So, I guess you work here?”

She didn’t answer, her attention consumed by whatever was on the monitor in front of her.

“I really, really don’t remember being here last night,” Todd said, trying to laugh. “So, is this like a club or a bar or something?”

She looked up at him and smiled. “Follow me.”

Todd congratulated himself.

The woman led him down the hallway, and for the first time he noticed that there were doorways, but no doors, along the way. The first few rooms they passed by were empty, but he glanced into one to find three men rolling up long plastic sheets. “What went on in there last night?”

She shrugged. “A party.”

“Must have been one hell of a party,” he said, “if they had to break out the tarps.”

“It was.”

In another room, Todd saw chains hanging down from the ceiling, some of them with hooks at their ends, and metal pipes bolted to the floor, disappearing into the ceiling. “The industrial look,” he said. “I like it.”

At the end of the hallway was the only shut door that Todd had seen yet. She stepped aside and put her hand on the door knob. “You still want to know what kind of place this is?”

Todd chuckled. “I get it. You have crazy freaky parties here. Some S&M stuff or something like that, right?”

“You really don’t remember being here last night, do you?”

“No. Completely blanked out.”

She smiled again. There was a gleam in her eye full of wickedness and delight. “Then you weren’t meant to remember, for your own protection.” Her smile disappeared. “Yet, here you are, asking questions.”

Todd felt a writhing just below his belt buckle and his mouth went dry. “It’s cool. I’ll just go now, okay? I’ll get my phone and I’ll go.”

She opened the door. The floor beyond was covered in blood. The sour smell of it rushed over Todd, causing him to gag. He turned around to leave, but she put a hand on his shoulder, holding him in place with a strength that defied her frame. “Inside,” she hissed.

With a lurch he found himself flying backwards and landing on blood-drenched plastic. He gagged again, and tried to stand, but he kept slipping back down onto the floor.

She came into the room. Todd finally gave up struggling and instead started to beg, whimpering and holding his hands in front of his face.

The woman stood astride his waist and lowered herself down to straddle him. She grabbed his wrists and pinned his arms to the floor.

“What are you doing to me?” he shouted.

She smiled again, then parted her lips and ran the tip of her tongue across her fangs before biting down into the soft flesh of his neck.

---

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