Ghoul

trust your gut

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“He’s absolutely the hottest guy I have ever been on a date with.”

“He has a perfect face.”

“Perfect face. Perfect gentlemen, you would say. But—”

“What? Dinner was good?”

“Dinner was great.”

“Did he ask questions?”

“He did. He was a really good listener, and he didn’t really talk much.”

“Good. Men have nothing good to say. They can only make things worse by talking.”

“Seriously. As soon as they start yapping all they do is make themselves less attractive.”

“So dinner was amazing, then what? Did he come over?”

“We left the restaurant and we were walking toward my place. I was thinking we could get one more drink at that spot downstairs—”

“—oh yeah, you have that new wine bar!”

“Exactly. So we turn off the avenue and we’re on this little residential street. Brownstones on both sides, big trees, you know. A really perfect, narrow, little street.”

“Where was it?”

“It’s so weird— I’m not really sure. I thought I had been on every block between my place and that restaurant, but this one was not familiar. I even tried to go back the next day but I couldn’t find it.”

“You were so distracted by his beauty.”

“Maybe, yeah. It was super dark. The street lamps were more decorative than useful, you know? And there was no one on the block, only us.”

“Romantic.”

“Not really. It was a little spooky actually. Sometimes those streets with the big trees and all the brownstones with those stone stoops, I don’t know, they can seem really isolated.”

“No doormen.”

“Exactly! No doormen hanging out on the sidewalk nodding at you. No lobby lights shining out on the street. No foot traffic. It was just us, in the dark, with those big stone stoops all shadowy and looming.”

“So far, this sounds really hot.”

“It should have been! But it wasn’t. The block was super decorated for Halloween. Like, fully decorated, every stoop.”

“Oh I love it when everyone coordinates!”

“Yeah. Right. I know. I love that too, but this was—”

“Corny?”

“No. The opposite. Creepy.”

“Ohhhh. Like what? Like pumpkins and shit? I love scary decorations. You have to tell me where this block is!”

“I know. I wish I would have paid more attention to where we were. There were all these life size decorations, like ghosts and scarecrows. But they were like…ominous? I don’t know why it was so effective, actually. It was so dark and everything gave off this aura of…not…happy.”

“The pumpkins were not happy?”

“Yeah. No. I don’t know. Something was…off.”

“How much wine did you have?”

“Too much.”

“You aren’t going to tell me you fumbled this date because the pumpkins were angry?”

“Not angry, just wrong. I don’t know. It sounds insane. But, it was like being in a dream, where everything looks sort of normal but you have a bad feeling.”

“What did whatshisname say about it?”

“Luca.”

“Luca?! That is so hot.”

“I know. It’s almost too much.”

“What did Luca say about the pumpkins?”

“Nothing. He was fine. He was just making small talk, asking me questions. I think he could tell I was on edge because he gave me his arm. You know, like in an old movie?”

“Cute!”

“Yeah. Right…yeah, it was cute. He was cold, like literally. Maybe he was just using me to get warm.”

“What did he smell like? Please tell me he smells as good as he looks.”

“Oh— oh my god I’m so glad you asked. He actually smelled kind of weird.”

“Weird bad or weird good?”

“I don’t know, actually. You know when you smell something that’s not necessarily good, but you keep trying to smell it again anyway?”

“Um, what?”

“How do I say this? He smelled sort of metallic and…muddy. Does that make any sense?”

“No.”

“Like…rusty? Like rust I think.”

“Do you know what else smells like rust?”

“What?”

“Blood.”

“Ok, shut up. You’re trying to scare me.”

“Seriously, it does.”

“I can’t get that smell out of my head. Do you think…?”

“Do I think you tricked yourself into thinking you smelled blood because the block was scary? Yes. There was probably a fake bloody hand print on a window and your wine-addled brain was like, oh shit I smell blood.”

“Do you hear yourself? I’m not a toddler! What does blood even smell like?”

“It smells like rust.”

“Stop it. Why are you trying to scare me?”

“I’m not. I’m trying to show you how ridiculous this is. Please. He’s what? Bleeding under his shirt?”

“No. He was not bleeding under his shirt. He was just—”

“Rusty.”

“Yeah. I guess.”

“So you’re on the creepy block with rusty man—”

“Ugh, yes. We’re on the creepy block. We’re arm in arm and his body is cold and his smell is…unsettling. I’m starting to reassess at this point. I started thinking maybe I’ll drop him on the next block and text Marcus.”

“Please, no. Please tell me you didn’t text Marcus.”

“I didn’t. I’m just saying. I was already moving on in my mind.”

“Moving backwards.”

“Whatever, I didn’t text Marcus. It doesn’t matter. Luca and I are walking, arm in arm, and we pass this big house on the corner and the buzzer goes off.”

“The buzzer?”

“Yeah, but no one was on the stoop. The buzzer just buzzed from the inside, like someone was expecting us.”

“Ok.”

“I jumped out of my skin, because the street was already making me so anxious and this loud buzzing comes out of nowhere. I literally almost stumbled off the curb. But Luca like, caught me.”

“Romantic! When are you going to admit this was fucking romantic?”

“I’m not! It was weird.”

“He was weird?”

“When he caught me, his hand was really cold. Ice cold, like metal. And that was though my sleeve. If he touched me on my skin I would have screamed.”

“So he’s bleeding and frozen?”

“Stop. I never said he was bleeding, you said that! You make me sound crazy.”

“I’m sorry to tell you, you are incredibly crazy.”

“Well, I’m sorry to tell you, it was weird all a-fucking-round.”

“Do you think he has like, a circulation problem? A beautiful cold boy with bad blood? Maybe he has a prosthetic arm!”

“Oh my god, stop! I think I would have noticed a prosthetic arm. Be serious.”

“Could happen.”

“Right. I paid so little attention to my insanely gorgeous date that I didn’t notice his prosthetic arm. No. That is not plausible.”

“Well, they look pretty real these days.”

“I can’t with you.”

“Ok, please, just finish the story. I want to know if you fucked the hottest guy in the world.”

“If I fucked him, wouldn’t I have seen his fake arm?”

“Ugh. Spoiler.”

 “Will you please shut up? This is not over!”

“Ok, ok.”

“As we’re walking down the street, the next buzzer comes on. Right when we pass by it.”

“Mm-hmm.”

“And the next one.”

“Huh?”

“The buzzers came on in every building as we passed them. Every. One. Seriously. I am dead fucking serious.”

“What are you saying?”

“That’s like ten buzzers.”

“I don’t get it.”

“I don’t get it either! It was the weirdest thing I have ever experienced. This guy is setting off every buzzer, like he’s interfering with electricity or something. How does that even happen?”

“There are a million ways, and none of them are paranormal.”

“Name one.”

“An electrical surge.”

“You literally just made that up. You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’re right. But buzzers are electric and sometimes electricity malfunctions.”

“All of them? In a row? Be serious.”

“What does it have to do with Luke?”

“Luca. I don’t know. I just felt like— I felt like it did. Like it was him. When he passed the buildings, their buzzers went crazy. I know it was him.”

“So?”

“So? Isn’t that weird to you?”

“I don’t know. Is it? Are you telling me he’s a ghost or something?”

“No. Maybe. I don’t know. Why would you say ghost? Is that a thing ghosts can do?”

“Why would I say ghost? Why would you? Why would you say any of this?”

“I don’t know what ghosts can do to brownstone buzzers!”

“Why are we talking about ghosts?”

“YOU SAID GHOSTS!”

“…soooo…”

“I’m just trying to tell you. This guy is. Not. Normal. Not a ghost, obviously, but like—”

“A ghoul?”

“What’s a ghoul?”

“It's a joke.”

“It's not a joke. As soon as he got me onto that street, it was like— it was like I stepped through to some other place. Not the regular world. A dimension or something.”

“You read too much.”

“Maybe. But you know what happens in books? The main character notices something is weird and everyone tells her to ignore it. And then she dies.”

“And yet, you aren’t dead.”

“No, because I trusted my gut and I got out of there.”

“Or, maybe once the red wine was out of your head you came back to our dimension. Is that possible? Did you make out with him at least?”

“Of course not! I barely even got to the creepy part yet! The fact that this isn’t already enough for you proves you are psycho.”

“Please. Finish.”

“I could see the intersection at the end of the block, all bright and normal. I knew I needed to get there. If I could make it to the light I would be fine. But then he started to slow down! I could feel him tugging my arm, trying to keep me out of the light." 

“Maybe he wanted to spooky kiss you.”

“It wasn’t spooky! It was terrifying.”

“Ok, you were really scared. I get it.”

“Yes! Thank you. I was really scared. I could see all these people walking past, but it was like— it was like I was looking up at them from under water.”

“Girl, what happened to you?”

“I felt like— I felt like the people in the light couldn’t see me.”

“Ok, now you’re freaking me out.”

“The hairs on my neck stood up. I could feel him really close, a cold spot over my shoulder, that rusty smell drifting all around.”

“Was he saying anything?”

“Nothing. His breath started to go raspy, like he was breathing with his teeth clenched. I felt like he was going to bite me. I was almost crying, I was so scared.”

“And then?”

“A guy came around the corner walking a dog, and it was like a light switch went on. I wanted to run to that guy and hug him, like he saved my life. ”

“So after all that, you said goodbye?”

“I know you hate this ending. But I didn’t want him to know where I lived. So I said I was tired, and I ran into the subway. I was convinced he was going to follow me so I went and stood on the platform for like twenty minutes, just watching the trains pull in. When I finally went home, I made the bodega guy walk me upstairs."

“Damn, he really spooked you.”

“He really did.”

“But like, why?”

“What do you mean why? It was the weirdest night of my life!”

“But what was wrong with him, exactly? He pulled your arm to try to slow you down?”

“It’s not one exact thing. It’s the whole story. Were you listening?”

 “Do we need to report him to the app?”

“No. I don’t think so. It wasn’t violent. He’s just not…for me.”

“His vibe was so ominous you ran away from him, but you don’t think there’s anything to report?”

“Fuck off. I know how it sounds. I just— what would I even report?”

“Well that’s the question, isn’t it? What if— and don’t get mad— what if you can’t put your finger on it because there’s nothing there? I’m just asking. What if you’re imagining danger where there is no danger?”

“I trusted my gut.”

“But your gut was full of red wine and horror books.”

“True.”

“Seriously though? I think you’re afraid of actually liking someone. Rejecting them is easier.”

“Please. Skip the therapy. The date was weird.”

“So, what now?”

“Now?”

“Yeah, in the light of day. Stone cold sober. You've been on a thousand first dates and it's always something with you.”

“Oh? Oh well. I don’t care.”

“Listen to me: you had a nice dinner with the hottest man anyone has ever seen on the apps. He asked you questions and he was a gentleman in every measurable way. And somehow you managed to get in your head because his cologne was cheap and you’re scared of Halloween decorations.”

“When you say it that way, it makes me sound crazy.”

“I love you but you are a hundred percent crazy. Aren’t you sick of being on the apps?”

“So sick of it. I can’t even tell you.”

“So, could you give him another chance? Apologize to him, ask him out again. One day you’ll be laughing about how all the buzzers went off and you both ignored it! What if Luca is The One?”

“He’s not.”

“But whyyy?”

“I don’t knowww—he’s a ghoul? You said so yourself.” 

“Text him.”

“I felt like he was going to eat me. Did you even hear that part?”

“Don’t bait me. Text him.”

“I feel weird about him.”

“Weird isn’t a feeling. Please. I am begging you to try.”

“Ugh, fine. One more date. I’ll try.”