This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/nosleep by /u/mrbeefthighs on 2024-05-09 22:24:46+00:00.

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

“Melissa Ethridge,” I said.

“What?”

“Melissa Ethridge,” I repeated, grabbing the car’s aux cord and plugging my phone in, “Listen”

Destiny twisted her face as the opening chords of Melissa Ethridge’s “Come to my Window” blared through the car speakers.

“Look,” I said, making my sales pitch, “I know its probably not your cup of tea, honestly, I’m not really crazy about 90’s lesbian rock n’ roll either, but it was the first thing that popped in my head when Indigo told us we needed an example of ‘true’ love or beauty.”

“I don’t think it’s a particularly beautiful song,” Destiny said, “Why this song? Why not Boyz II Men? ‘End of the Road’? Now that’s a pretty song”

“Because this is the first song I learned to play on the guitar. My Mom taught me before she died. I think that gives it special meaning to me. Even if it’s not the best song, it’s truly beautiful to me because it has special meaning.

Destiny thought for a beat, folded her arms and said, “Ok, you win. Not like I have any ideas anyway.”

An hour later we were back in my house absolutely blasting Melissa Ethridge out of my stereo system and staring at the leg from behind the couch waiting to see if anything would happen. Nothing did.

We cycled through every musical artist we could think of. Boyz II Men, Tiny Tim, Evanescence, Elton John. We even tried whale calls and several podcasts. Nothing happened other than the lights flickering a bunch when we played the Beach Boys, we got the sense the leg was growing stronger and feeding off the awful music The Beach Boys played so we quickly turned it off.

“Maybe you have to play the music yourself,” Destiny suggested.

It was as good a guess as any, so I grabbed my guitar and started playing “Come to my Window”. Initially, outside of Destiny’s pained wincing, my playing didn’t seem to make much of a difference, but after about 30 seconds the skin on the leg seemed to ripple and move. I focused and sang even harder, which made Destiny wince even harder, but I didn’t mind - it was working! Eventually the leg started to shake like it was having a seizure. Just then a flash of silver caught my eye and I turned to look just in time to dodge the kitchen knife that flew towards my head from the kitchen. That quickly put a stop to my playing.

“Ok, so we’re on the right track,” I said, “It clearly doesn’t like that”

“Yeah,” Destiny replied, “But does it not like it because it’s hurting it and could potentially destroy it? Or because you suck at singing and you’re just really annoying to listen to?”

I turned to face her.

“You sound like a bag of cats in heat,” Destiny was not holding back her feelings on my singing voice.

I ignored the comment, “No, we’re on the right track, but something is missing.”

“If only we could get Melissa Ethridge here to play it for us.” Destiny said sarcastically.

“That’s it!” I shouted, “We need Melissa Ethridge’s guitar! I know there is one hanging on the wall of the Hard Rock Café downtown. Let’s go get it!”

“Your plan is to ask them if you can play Melissa Ethridge’s guitar?”

“We’re not going to ask”

“Your plan is to do a smash-and-grab at a restaurant owned by Native Americans? One of the most oppressed groups of people in the country.”

“Destiny,” I retorted, “The Seminole Tribe of Florida owns several billions of dollars’ worth of real estate and has more white people working for them than Facebook. They aren’t oppressed.”

“Alright, but I’m not going in. I’ll be the lookout with Hercules.”

“Fine.”

5 minutes later we were on the road heading towards the Hard Rock Café. Destiny sat shotgun, Hercules and the leg sat in the back. Hercules sat behind me and I could feel his stinking breath on my neck. It made my eyes water.

“Do you know who stole Hercule’s body from your porch?” I asked, trying to make conversation, “I mean, how will he ever get to rest in peace?”

“I have no idea who did it, but I’m sure Hercules does.” Destiny replied.

The conversation died down again and I turned my focus to the road, periodically checking my surroundings and my mirrors for any sign that Psycho Jimmy could be following us.

“What are you looking for?” Destiny asked, breaking the silence, “You seem, like, really paranoid about something?”

“Oh, I’m just paranoid about the haunted prosthetic leg in the backseat garroting me, you know?”

“Fair point.”

We arrived outside of the Hard Rock Café and quickly realized we had no plan that could feasibly work. After a few minutes of deliberation, we decided to go in and get a table. We were seated between two displays. One of Michael Jackson’s iconic gloves hung in a glass case above my head. Above Destiny’s head hung one of Prince’s electric guitars. Across the restaurant we could see Melissa Ethridge’s guitar encased in glass and hanging above the table of a couple who were clearly fighting with each other.

“There’s the guitar,” I said, nodding towards the display, “We just need a distraction.”

“Ok,” Destiny said, “I got this. Get ready”

She took two steps from our table, let out a dramatic sigh and fake-fainted on the floor of the dining room. No one seemed to notice.

“She’s fainted!” I shouted.

“Fucking TikTokers,” I heard a man mumble from a table near us.

After a few embarrassing moments, Destiny stood up, dusted herself off and sat back down across from me. “That didn’t work”

“No shit.”

“I have an idea for a distraction,” I told Destiny as I pulled out my cell phone, “I got the perfect guy for this.”

I called Psycho Jimmy. He picked up after 3 rings, but didn’t speak. I told him where I was and explained the situation to him and how we needed a distraction. He still didn’t speak. I told him if he could be there in 15 minutes that would be great, but if not, then he shouldn’t worry about it, but I had a feeling he was probably right around the corner.

The line went dead without Jimmy saying a single word.

“Give him 15 minutes,” I told Destiny.

5 minutes later Destiny and I were startled by a low growl that emanated from under our table. It was the snarling of an angry dog. It was Hercules.

Destiny quickly lowered her head under the table and began uttering commands to the phantom dog in a stern, authoritative voice. Patrons of the restaurant, one-by-one, began to take notice of the noise and began to stare.

“What is the issue?” I asked

“I don’t know!” Seethed Destiny.

I glanced around the room at all of the eyes watching us and began to apologize when I noticed Psycho Jimmy walking in through the front door of the restaurant. I began to stand up to greet him but Destiny quickly stole my attention.

“Oh my God!” She said, “This is it. I think Hercules sees whoever stole his body” She had a hand gripping her ghost dog’s invisible collar but was struggling to maintain control over the specter. Several waiters were on their way over to us when Destiny couldn’t hold on any longer.

The invisible phantasmal force that was Hercules exploded from under our table and through the dining room of the restaurant knocking over several chairs and tables in the process. Several patrons of the restaurant who had been tossed to the floor by Hercules or had seen some of the chairs tossed aside by the unseen force started to panic. Just like I had only a few days earlier, they’d suddenly been confronted with the possibility that there are things in this world they cannot explain.

A few people got out of their seats, a few women yelped, a particularly fat man stood on his chair like the ground was suddenly made of lava. The waiters were not paid enough for this.

Hercules continued on his war path through the dining room, pushing more chairs and tables aside and knocking over the hostess before finding his target – Psycho Jimmy.

Jimmy hit the ground with a grunt and began wrestling with his invisible foe. After a few intense seconds of rolling on the ground it appeared Hercules had him by the shirt sleeve and was dragging him back into the dining room, stopping every few steps to ragdoll Jimmy’s arm. Blood splashed out from Jimmy’s forearm as if he was cut by a knife.

This is when everyone really started to lose their minds. The restaurant descended into pandemonium. People who’d never met each other in their lives were clinging together and crying, some were fighting, one lady fainted and one woman too drunk to stand simply took in the scene and laughed.

A punch on my shoulder pulled my attention from the scene. It was Destiny.

“The guitar!” She shouted.

Right.

I ran across the restaurant to the glass case that housed Melissa Ethridge’s guitar, took the prosthetic leg from my backpack and smashed the glass with it sending a thousand razor sharp shards down into the meals of the angry couple who sat beneath it.

“You’re paying for our meals, buddy!” Said the man.

“Dude, look around!” I said back to him, extending an arm towards the insanity unfolding before us, “Just leave!”

I pulled the leg back and smashed the glass case again sending more shards of broken glass down onto the angry couple seated below.

“You NEVER stand up for ...

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