BYWAYS - Prologue

, , , , ,

One day, in his youth, Anton Carpenter sees something. He disappears weeks later, and the story in his hometown of Whitegrass is that he simply "snapped." He returns years later to confront what he saw and the people that are still there.

Thank you for taking the time to read this! BYWAYS is my longer writing project exploring horror erotica, American nostalgia, and being queer- you can read the next chapter of it here. Inspired by House of Leaves, Echo VN, and the like. If you enjoyed it, please take the time to Watch, leave a comment, etc.! I'll respond to all of them.


Recommended Listening:https://youtu.be/xNrMObY_kW4?si=D4n-fxoAT1msPjeY

"And I know that there is no

straight road in this world--

only a giant labyrinth

of intersecting crossroads."

-Federico García Lorca, translated from Spanish

Preface

After

As Anton Carpenter curled around the knife wound in his stomach, he wondered to himself: Is it possible for a town to hate someone?

Not the people, no, and he didn't mean mere misfortune. Anton wondered if there could be something deeper, a malevolence under Whitegrass's wretched cement and weathered corner stores that could be responsible for what had happened to them. A bad seed born into the mosaic of dry trailer parks, abandoned factories, and always-empty parking lots that spread its roots deep and far, cracked foundations, drank secretly from birdbaths and kiddie pools and left them dry in the morning. It would explain this, the blade in him. The burning tree that was his life.

Pain snarled under his ribs. It broke his attention and made him cry out, muzzle opening against the ground and the taste of wet grass and mud meeting his lips. The more he moved the worse it got, but he could hardly keep himself still, no matter how hard he tried. Instead Anton contorted and gasped, grinding his fur into the dirt of the Cliff and kicking like a sick deer as blood seeped from him into the earth. Eventually the pain began to dull to a dentist's numb pulsing - probably not a good thing, he thought, but it let him lift his head.

Perhaps there was no reason and he had caused all of this himself. Why was that day so significant? Why did he have to be the one to see it, nobody else, not even Calvin? Was there any reason why at all? Would it even help? As he stared at the sunlight peeking over the ragged pines, Anton thought of Michael, and wondered if his only brother still hated him. As his breathing slowed, he thought of Ish, too, and ached with countless feelings that knew no words. He thought of the rest, of the living and the dead, and how they all ended up standing here once gazing out across the burning days or empty frozen nights.

HONG KONG RESTAURANT blinked its dying neon sign there in the final minutes of the dark before dawn. Somewhere behind him, insects Anton couldn't name sang and the breeze carried their voicesaway. He might not see another sunrise, he thought, but even if he didn't, there was one bitter comfort underneath it all: at least this would be the final night that Anton Carpenter spent in this fucking town.