Julien hugged himself close as he sat bare-assed on the dirty, concrete floor. Moments ago, Floyd and his three mates ambushed him on the way home from school. They dragged him off the footpath into the abandoned weatherboard, stripped him naked and flung him down a flight of rotting wooden stairs into the basement. They locked him in, cackling as they left.

     Julien stared into the darkest parts of the cellar. It wasn’t the chill, mouldy air causing him to shudder. It was the sentient creviced ball that rolled from the shadows, gliding towards him. It twinkled in the light, beaming in from the single window that illuminated the dank space.

     The window is what he would use to escape. Get up! Get out! His mind screamed but no limb would obey. The ball stopped, two small steps away. It pulsed a brilliant, star-bright glow before he heard the sound, ‘Hello.’

     Did it just fucking speak?

     The noise, the word, it both perplexed and relinquished him from the grip of fear. In all the horrors he had ever watched, not once did the monster have a conversation with its prey.

     “Ugh, hi?” Julien said, feeling foolish for talking to a disco ball. Although, it was fleshy and well... alive!

     “Why did those boys hurt you?” The ball’s voice hummed.

     Julien wasn’t sure how to respond. There was no reason. They were assholes. Bored assholes. He was easy pickings.

     “Because they’re a bunch of dicks,” he answered.

     The ball flashed in a multitude of colours. “Humorous,” it said, “Perhaps you require assistance?”

     Like he hadn’t tried to get help. Boys will be boys, growing pains, harmless fun, were just some of the expressions used by teachers to dismiss his accusations. One time Floyd poured milk over him while he was taking a dump. They recorded and uploaded it to TikTok with the caption: Milkin’ a seven-day load... MOOO!

     What that viral video failed to show was Floyd caving his head in against the sink when Julien tried to defend himself. He stayed awake with a splitting migraine for 48 hours fearing that, if he were to sleep, he’d never wake again.

     “No one gives a fuck about me. No one can help.”

     “I can make them disappear.”

     Julien knew he should be terrified. Yet he was transfixed. He couldn’t trust the other kids, teachers or any adult. They ignored and let him down. Yet the ball listened and understood. As strange as it sounded that was comfort enough to trust. Especially now, when he felt at his lowest, most vulnerable.

     “How?”

     “Bring them to me.”

     Julien wanted to speak, but his words caught in the back of his throat. I can’t, can I? Then again, they might end up killing me, even by accident or on purpose.

     Deadpool, Red Hood, and certain arcs of Batman would agree with him... Could he live with himself knowing he could have prevented the worst?

     The ball gyrated. Its creviced exterior began to shift, forming an opening that shimmered as though the stars were playing chase. Sensing what needed to be done, Julien reached his hand into the shifting chasm of the ball and began to weep. A fire consumed his entire body. The room erupted with a searing white light and he fell back to slam his head against the concrete floor. Darkness.

     Julien woke to the sound of a lock clicking open. He felt groggy and hung over as he sat upright. He peered into the darkest depths of the basement, but there was no sign of the disco ball.

     Uneasy footsteps creaked through the basement. He looked over to find one of Floyd’s mates, Jeremy, standing on the bottom step, staring at him with his hands pocketed and a guilty expression on his face.

     “Go home, fuck head. I ain’t doing time if you die,” he turned on his heel and walked back up the stairs. Between the planks of wood, Julien watched an amber light glow hot before dying back to black. The ball was still there.

     “Hey, asshole!” Julien shouted, “bet you would like prison. Get fucked as much as you dream of at night.”

     Jeremy leapt back down into the basement. He crashed onto the concrete floor, wrapped his hands around Julien’s throat and began to squeeze the life out of him. The choke ended as soon as it began. The hands were torn away from his throat. Julien heard Jeremy scream as he was sucked into the shadows. Bones snapped and flesh minced as though it were blitzed in a blender.

     He sat there in the musty space as silence enveloped him. Silver-speckled blood swept from the shadows like a stream to pool around his feet. He smiled and began to laugh. Tears fell down his cheeks. He felt shock and guilt, but also something more overpowering than it had any right to be; an end to his torture, an end to his misery, an end to Floyd and his two remaining mates.

🔮

     With their headphones on the teens bobbed, weaved, head banged in the cryptic silence, among the raggedy ghost curtains and glowing jack-o-lanterns. They listened to classic artists—A-Ha, Tina Turner, Arrowsmith—which Julien had included in the playlist for their silent disco, in the abandoned house.

     Two weeks of planning culminated in this moment. Word had spread about Jeremy’s disappearance. Julien had laid low, missing classes to steal alcohol from delivery vans, curate the playlist, decorate the interior and invite people over on Snapchat, which had proven to be the most challenging task. Many thought he was a creep at first, inviting them to party at a condemned property over a fake account. Only after sending shots of the classrooms did they trust he was one of their own. He kept his actual identity a secret.

     Floyd stepped into the silent raucous of the living room. He pushed through the mosh pit of shifting bodies with both Max and Kevin in tow. Julien, locked in his sights.

     Floyd gripped Julien by his shirt. “Missed you in class. Fuck you hiding?”

     He hadn’t planned for the suspicion but knew how to take advantage of it.

     “Been skipping with Jeremy.”

     “Bullshit!” Floyd scoffed, “he’s probs up in Sydney with his dad.”

     “Yea, nah. He’s down where you threw me.”

     Floyd grinned. Max snickered. Julien turned to study Kevin, his best friend in primary school. In seventh grade, Kevin outed him on Snapchat to the school by screenshotting the convo that included ‘I think I have feelings for you’ and a baited dick pic. Back then, even now, as always he was emotionless. He sipped from the bottle of Corona, pushed his Beats on and joined the silent chaos in the living room.

     “Fuck, he’s down there with a fag like you?”

     “Came back for the stacks of 80s Playboys. He’s tweaking right now.”

     Floyd shifted his gaze to the basement door. He threw Julien aside in the empty cavity of what used to be a kitchen. Then he opened the door and shouted down into the darkness. Max peeked over Floyd’s shoulder, balancing on his toes.

     Julien made sure there were no eyes on him. He rushed the pair, and rammed into Max’s back with his forearm to topple both assholes crashing down the stairs into the basement.

     Are they dead?

     Floyd groaned.

     Come on. Shit!

     ‘...’

     What if...

     A crimson light expanded in the darkness.

     “What the—AGH!”

     Julien shut the door to muffle Floyd and Max’s screams. They cried in terror, yet he was the only one to hear them in the crowd of oblivious, headphone-wearing dancing teens. Their voices quickly ceased into the snapping of bone, churning of blood, then nothing.

     Julien slunk to the ground. He heard the shuffling of feet and the occasional cry of joy alongside his heart attempting to blast out of his chest. Floyd and Max were gone. He searched the empty kitchen in a daze of disbelief. Most of the alcohol and snacks he had stowed in the area were ransacked. He spied a partially open bottle of whiskey, popped the cap as tears skimmed his cheeks and drank.

🔮

     Julien’s headset blasted Killer’s Eyes as he took a sip from his half-empty bottle of whiskey, while stumbling in a sway over the smoke-fogged dance floor. Was he a killer? He made the deal but did not commit the deed. Killers are evil, but his motives were just. Morally. Legally? Who care? Now one remained, though the worst were gone. The disco was an alibi. Over fifty people who could vouch for him if anyone did snoop into their disappearance. Without bodies they could never prove he shook hands with death and offered up their souls.

     Julien felt the alcohol take effect. Neon-purple lights beamed across the dance floor. They strobed rhythmically out of beat to his song, but still elevated his high – a spinning rush of relief mellowed by the calm of a drink. He took another sip.

     Kevin appeared in front of him among the mosh pit of bodies. In his stupor, Julien assumed they had been accidentally mashed together when Kevin forced his tongue down his throat. They devoured each other with crossing tongues and greedy hands before pulling away. Kevin winked as Julien blushed out a smile of disbelief. He then pulled both of their headphones off.

     “I'm sorry. About all of it,” Kevin whispered, “The snap sent around school. Floyd did it. Didn’t want him to out me. I... I couldn’t so I... fuck, I’m sorry. I fucked it all—”

     Julien silenced Kevin with his lips. They then slid their headsets back on, synched them together and swayed in each other’s embrace to Led Zeppelin’s Stairway to Heaven. Tonight had already been a night of many firsts, and it seemed a lot more were to cum if it played out the way he now hoped it would.

     Kevin puffed on a joint and blew the smoke upwards. He then buried his face into Julien’s chest. His hair smelt like anti-dandruff shampoo and weed. Smiling, Julien looked up to see the lights reflect the shimmering disco ball. The warmth of Kevin’s breath instantly iced as dread ran through his body.

     Jesus Christ, no!

     The small mirror panels on the disco ball began to shift. They swirled to open a chasm of starless depths, from which a single tentacle slithered out.

     Please don’t.

Curious... you asked me to take the pain away.

     You did.

There were four pains. I removed three.

     You’ll cause me more pain if you take him.

Julien watched the tentacle slide down to rest its suckers on Kevin’s shoulder.

     Please. It wasn’t his fault.

     He continued to slow dance, hoping the moment would return to bliss and none would be the wiser.

I must remove your pain.

     Take someone else.

How quickly you condemn without knowing.

     Knowing what?

Circumstance. The why of it all.

     You can’t cause me pain. That wasn’t our deal.

True. But do you consider the pain you have caused, Julien?

     Floyd, Max, Jeremy. They were vile. They needed to go. But their families... he had never even considered them. He shook his head to centre his thoughts. 

     No! You can’t cause me pain!

Very well. Though, I must keep my promise. Are you certain?

     Yes.

Truly?

     Leave us alone! 

     Julien felt the dreaded despair wash over him. He wanted it all to go away.

Oh no, Julien...

     The disco ball shattered above the mosh pit. Shards of glass and glitter, crimson and shimmering as though the sparkles were screaming, rained down upon the silent dancing teens as thousands of tentacles exploded like a starburst above them.

I will remove the pain. All of it.