Here's the thing about losing a limb: If you go to the cemetery -- bear with me on this -- if you go to the cemetery and you look in one of those vault-tomb things, they've got PLENTY of arms and legs available. And, you know, it's not like anyone's using them, it's not like you're going to get someone tapping on your window at night like "Who's got my arm, wooooooo."

Okay that's happened to me a COUPLE times. But still! It's mostly fine!

Or you could go to a fresh battlefield where the limbs are fresher, but those are haunted as shit, trust me.

Anyway, you might be wondering why the hell I keep losing limbs. And let me tell you: I've lost a LOT of duels. Even lost my own head once! Had to get a new one. From a fresh battlefield. Now my head is haunted. It's like a mosquito I can't smack.

Also my jeans are haunted, because I took them from a dead lady's house. Am I sorry for any of it? I'll never admit it!

 

 

 

Libera te Tutemet ex Inferis: The 2023 Halloween Horrorquest

Ralph is in the doctor’s office. His complaint: “I lost my arm.”

The doctor looks about twelve. “When did you lose it?”

“Sometime this week.”

“What?”

“This week. Either Monday or Tuesday. I noticed on Tuesday when I went to fill out a form on line. My left arm was gone.”

The young doctor twerp is staring at him. “Take off your shirt.”

Ralph is annoyed. “Want my coat off too?” He takes off the heavy oiled coat and the sweater and his shirt. He leaves his undershirt, since it's sleeveless.

Dr. Twerp is looking at his left shoulder. There is no blood, no wound, just nice smooth skin where the arm was.

“When was the accident?” says Dr. Twerp.

Ralph tries not to roll his eyes. “There wasn’t an accident. It was just gone. I looked for it too. I went back everywhere I could remember.” Ralph frowns, touching the socket. "I did get a little lit on Monday, but I went to both bars. They weren’t very nice about it.”

The doctor glances toward the door. He is closer to it than Ralph. He looks smaller, as if all his muscles are tight. “Uh, does it hurt?”

“No.” says Ralph.

“Are you hearing any voices?”

“Next you’ll be asking me about aliens. NO.”

Have you been sick?

Ralph’s gaze drops to the floor. “Well,” he says reluctantly.

The twerp’s gaze sharpens. “Symptoms?” he snaps.

“Well,” says Ralph. “I only noticed yesterday. Turn out the lights.”

The doc hesitates for a minute then moves to the door. He flicks the lights out.

The exam room has no windows. Ralph is glowing softly. Only his skin. It does not shine through his clothes. His right hand is brightest.

“Shi—-,” says the doc. He turns the lights on. “We are going to hospitalize and quarantine you.”

“What?” says Ralph. He suddenly doesn’t like being taken seriously.

Dr. T is at the phone, talking to someone. He tells the story, sort of, but uses big words. Ralph wants to leave, badly.

The doc is off the phone. He sighs. “I am quarantined too. We have to wait in here until they send a team. They will be in hazmat suits. Don’t let it freak you out.”

Ralph is sweating and petrified. “What is it, doc? Am I going to die?”

“I don’t know and I don’t think so. You look good, except for the arm. But we have to make sure it’s not an infection.”

“We have masks on,” says Ralph.

“Yes, well. They definitely help but they are not 100%. Nothing is. Can I go over your past history? Sorry about this, but I am glad you came in.”

Ralph is still shocked and upset, but the doc is so calm.

“Ok,” says Ralph.

Part II

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