follow the adventures of Steve Wilson in WWD's new series The Year That Everyone Died
I got the dead, this is the witching hour.
i got the dead, this is the witching hour
and I know the witching nothing don’t mean good damn nothing and my head - it just spins like a thimble balancing so nimble, just like that we the same. Not borrowing nothing, fighting with claw feet, deadly, nothing, ashamed.
And I can see the crow struggling, the one that he told me about, his friend, his friend, his friend - I don’t lie em, not at all, -
It’s time to get down.
So I tear myself from the bottom of an endless dream, where I’m nothing - I lost ever thing - ash mark fool of the modern useless and foolish and hopeless - all scars.
And gasp for one trillion pounds of air I’ll never receive.
And I may as well be dead - but I’m not. I see the girl from college and a few more now, standing in the field , shrugging, so useless - and Im just pushing away from a hill - I crash landed, was no one and going so proud.
And I get splashed in the face by cold smelling water.
And then he’s right in front of me, this Powers Boothe looking mother fuck, craggly ass dude. staring me in the eye. and his friends are behind him.
the long white haired dude. the bald dude, and they all got stupid ass Carhart’s overalls.
but I can only see out of one eye, because they caved in the other one - but fuck this cock sucker - I’ve seen Deadwood - Powers Boothe is a pussy.
So I take a straight swing and biff into the ground because they tied me to the chair. Who would have figured? And then these old douche bags stand me back up and laugh.
They tell me something.
I am dead. I should have assumed I was done for.
These old dudes are drinking out of weird jars and laughing it out. The contents of their jars are glowing.
And this Powers Boothe looking mother fucker just keeps eyeballing me.
and I look down at the ropes that are keeping me tied to the chair. A little bit of twine, some sinew if you’re lucky,
let em say this now -
if you arent ready now, you never will be.
And I tip over really hard and i think for a second I black out.
I wake for a second and they’re fighting. can you believe it? These fucking idiots, I have read the lord of the rings. I know how to escape some shit.
And some old guy crashes into me and all of a sudden my hand is free.
They are fighting over me and I get my foot free and my other hand.
I lay still for a second and look at my car still in their parking lot. They must have moved me to a pole shed away from the bar.
Carter peeks his head up from the back of the car and i know, right there, i am going ... to .... fuck ... these ... mother ... fuckers ... up ...
And I punch as hard as I can into the dude right in front of me ...
And they are surprised and he buckles and falls back. And I turn real hard and punch the other way and that dude - the one who looks like Powers Boothe goes down.
In the end I don’t know what they were fighting over.
and I am running -
this fucking place is insane, it is endless corridors of liquid jars with different labels. And I run -
G O’ Leary
I loom over all their jars before I find one that seems right.
It is her name after all -
That’s right, her name is Jordy Nelson - and there is a zero percent chance I would remember her name if it wasn't the same as a Packer player.
but i do remember - and you better get used to me.
I grab her jar and run.
I push through a swinging metal door and run to my car. I get in and start it. Carter pooped on the back seat. I'm not angry.
And these fuckers, Powers Boothe looking and silver head and beardo - they are mid chase.
I stop and stand still. The jar glows on the seat next to me.
It is a long weird ride to Milwaukee.
We stop the gas station outside of Oshkosh and I get some Fritos and a Pepsi ... ok, and some peach rings. but that was it.
I look at the jar in my hands, it’s slightly glowing, the memory of someone else’s past - I see glimpses of the girl from college's past, dancing in the jar.
And though Steve Wilson, you may not have been there, but you're are expected to keep these memories safe.
And you realize Steve Wilson - you have seen something that people don't see and things will never be the same, god bless.
I sit in my uncles basement and pour the contents of the jar on the ground. It is peaceful and the contents softly coo as I pour them out.
down the drain, down the drain.
I see the girls from the dreams spiraling out.,
she does not leave for good. she turns and looks at me, I turn away and smile a pursed lipped smile.
one thing that is lasting.
this tale may have been badly spelled and non-sensical. but I don’t care if you don’t.
I would like you to keep some things in mind.
If you’re a girl I may kiss you, probably would, low down, no frown, happen I should.
If you’re a man I may miss you, will do, no shoes, I promise.
I took a cab to Rita’s house house and knocked on the door, and she answered and I all of a sudden- said the best thing I ever did.
“And I am sorry, which I can’t say enough, wanting to catch up, with every terrible person I am, but I can’t, I wont, I wont. And after I turn to dust and all my friends turn to dust, and after everyone I ever knew turns to dust”
And I took a deep breathe.
“And after every Big Mac and Whopper or Whopper Jr, or Crunch Wrap Supreme, or Wendy’s Double Stack or Nacho grande or four piece fried chicken meal or (good forbid) the double down - when all these distractions turn to dust -
I will be there waiting.
For all of these sweet nothings, to turn to dust."
And I finally know who I am. I am a ghost hunter. Steve Wilson in a ghost hunter. I finally know what to do.
Not sure what’s going on? Click here for the pilot episode of The Year That Everyone Died.