We think you ought to change the channel.
The thought burst into my mind from seemingly nowhere, and before I’d had time to even consider it, I was flipping through commercials.
Here.
The imperative came, and my hand stilled. I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. Channel 89, currently a commercial for foot cream. I pulled myself off of the sofa and meandered toward the kitchen.
Cold chicken I don’t even bother reheating; I began to chow down. I hadn’t noticed how hungry I was. Coming back into the living room with a drumstick, I saw that the show proper had recommenced. Some sort of crime drama, it seemed.
Detective woman was searching through a cabin. The shots and angle made it seem we were watching from the killer’s perspective, or else as someone sneaking up on her.
“Look out, lady,” I spat through the chicken.
My words seemed to have come just in time. She spun around, screamed, and drew her gun. The POV was still whatever had been sneaking up on her, so the cheap bastards wouldn’t let us see the monster or whatever it was. She started shooting, but it didn’t seem to slow down the gradual approach of whatever was coming after her.
“Run!” I said. “Get out of here. Go get some backup or something, idiot.” I waved the drumstick at the screen.
She took my advice and ran. There was a little chase, but she darted out the window, and the cameraman held the shot of her running into the night for way too long.
“Come on,” I said. “Her butt’s not even that good,” and started flipping through the channels again. For a moment the thought that the cabin seemed oddly familiar passed through my head. Just a reused set, I figured. The different shows probably have a timeshare on the cabin and it appears in everything.
The intricate blob of half-decayed corpses lumbered back into the shadows, cursing its rather obstinate member. The shallow idiot absorbed last summer was too stupid to even comprehend the gestalt it had joined and was constantly undermining the great purpose by its blathering mouth.
“I want to watch the game,” the dead man’s voice rang out to no one in particular.
Tale Told 