Something is devouring Milo, and this time it isn’t just his guilty conscience.
Today's guest entry comes from my very own twin sister, Tonie Ervin. The whole story was her idea to begin with, and now, in her own words, she tells us why:
Serial Killers, Serial Pals
by Tonie Ervin
Serial killers were my secret best friends growing up. I always had sister around, but when she was off doing something that only sister would do and I needed someone on my side, I would tap into the rich tapestry of murderers and thugs that I read about in books like “A Criminal History of Mankind” by Colin Wilson. I took that secret with me into adulthood and hung out (in my mind) with Berkowitz and Bundy when things got dull, or life threw it’s worst at me.
I felt I always had some small respect for the endeavors of the serial killer. Their motives were clear and resolute; the job they did was defined and singular. Yet, at the same time, everything about them was so damned complex. Don’t get me wrong, I am in no way justifying anything that any one murderer has done. I don’t need your judgment and speeches about the evils of mankind and the atrocities that these people committed, the victims they left behind. I am well aware of all that, and I just don’t care.
Remember, this is my fantasy world. My Disneyland. And I always wanted to take this fascination and couple it with another love of mine: Horror. I always wanted to write some sorta story or movie that would take the best both had to offer and show the world something new and sordid.
Easy concept.
Not really.
It’s difficult to blend the two without it being referred to as Suspense, or God forbid, the “Psychological” Thriller. No. I wanted HORROR. I wanted something that would cause discomfort and disdain, while at the same time being that “car wreck” that no one wants to turn away from. This was 15+ years ago, and to be honest I cannot remember now exactly how I came up with the idea of using a werewolf to bridge the gap between the two. It all seems so natural now, like it has always been that way.
After the idea, came the waiting. I sat on it, mulled it over. I tried several times, to no avail, to try bringing it to paper. Then sister told me about her trunk idea. Throw story ideas in so other authors could fish them out and make it their own. I volunteered my story, even threw in the stuff I had jotted down. It didn’t make it to the trunk. Sister jumped on it and spirited it away. The next time I saw it, complete and whole, I was stunned. Here were my boys, my narrative, my heart-- exactly how I wanted it to be. It was with no small amount of pleasure that I wept once I was done with her story.
You probably won’t.
That is OK. These were my friends, not yours. These were my boys, not yours. This was my idea, but not my words. They are Tonia’s and I am very proud that she used them to bring my thoughts to page and my boys to life. Enjoy.
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It is not fully believed that Tonie actually exists. Many assume that she is just Tonia with a different hat. Those who claim to have ‘seen’, let alone ‘taken photos’ of the two together are few and far between. But alas, photos can be altered and the integrity of said witnesses is shady at best. Though it has been rumored that you can force the elusive Tonie out of seclusion with offerings of a chilidog and a dime-bag.
If you're lucky, you can find her on Facebook.