Ouija Trolling

Hey, it’s Claire. So last night I drank half a bottle of Citadel gin, painted my toenails black, and broke out the Ouija board.

I made a real scene of it, lighting candles and listening to Bathory on my phone. I drew that vile symbol on the floor (not the *really* vile one I learned from that maniac I dated last June; I mean the lesser vile symbol) and sat in the middle with the board.

I don’t remember what I asked to make contact but a malevolent entity showed up fast and laid it on thick. He said his name was James, and that he was all alone and “scared of the red sound”, and then he got slippery with answers and started twisting the questions back toward me.

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Snow Angel Attacks Teen

Fifteen-year-old Jarred Crew was injured in Barre, VT when a snow angel, or at least the snow delineating its form, violently held him to the ground for twenty minutes.

Crew and two friends, Julia Peters and Mary Walsh, were walking together through a neighborhood park at 8PM Saturday night when they came upon a man-sized snow angel with no surrounding footprints. The angel was missing a wing and, at the urging of his friends, Crew reclined in the form and spread his arms to finish the design.

The snowy outline contracted around his body, compressing his legs and torso and immobilizing his head.

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The Girl with the Polkadot Arm

Dennis!

Thanks for forwarding William’s answer to my “fingers sprouting from my arm” situation. I loved his idea of chopping the fingers off and healing the wounds with skinwort, especially b/c I had a Tinder date coming up on Friday night, and a dozen extra pinkies probably doesn’t make the average guy’s fetish list. The chopping fix was nice and quick.

But yeah no. Even with St. Madelia’s spirits to dull the pain, the fingers had roots. Like deep-set bones and tendons and stuff. Pruning shears wouldn’t have worked. I’d have really had to gouge the finger-roots out.

So I grabbed a vial out of a biology starter kit I ordered last week (coincidence or omg fate!?), transmogrified the specimens with a hybrid curse and my own special medley of herbs and spices, and wha-la: I had a Petri dish full of necrotizing amoebas.

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Finger Cure

Dear Amanda,

Good work healing your severed pinky with skinwort. I’m afraid I have no explanation for why the rest of your arm started growing fingers.

There’s one account in LOST CURES, REFOUND AND REIMAGINED (very entertaining book; I’ll loan it to you) of a German man who died in 1911 after drinking skinwort tea. The following spring, a “flesh tree” sprouted from his grave.

I’ll keep researching possible causes of your finger problem so we can all avoid similar trouble in the future.

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Fingers Sprouting from Arm

Hi, Dennis!

I accidentally chopped off my pinky finger. You should have seen the blood. It was like some crazy cartoon the way it spurted.

I thought I was cutting a chunk of grief-root. I know grief-root doesn’t look anything like a pinky finger, but I was making more solstice broth, and you know how the vapors get if you add too much almond after the wishbone, and I spaced out from the fumes and whacked my finger off without feeling it at all. I even smeared a picture on the wall with blood before I came to my senses. It looks like a cave painting, like a bison or something.

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Man Dissolved by Fog

A man named Harold Jens was dissolved by fog yesterday morning, shortly after dawn, in the suburbs of Montpelier, VT.

According to witnesses, Mr. Jens was taking his daily walk through the neighborhood when a bank of white fog moved toward him from the end of the cul de sac. Fog was widespread that morning, due to an influx of unseasonably warm air, but was described by locals as “plain old fog” or “thick but I don’t know, just fog”, etc.

Mr. Jens entered the fog wearing a black tracksuit and orange sneakers. Another walker, Debra Lakewood, was half a block away and watched him blur and fade entirely from sight. A minute later, Mr. Jens reemerged, staggering toward Ms. Lakewood and waving his arms as if surrounded by a swarm.

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