Well isn’t this interesting, we’re taking our social media subscribers Backstage! Threads by Meta recently released a new feature whereby a user can attach a note to a post, expanding the usual character limit by several thousand. Normally, we here at the Calamity take the stance of “Fuck Meta.” However, we also understand that guests frequent Meta platforms and as we are not above begging for attention, we have succumbed to posting more frequently on said platforms. Particularly on Threads! Find out more in “Under Construction.”
We also bring to you our standard set of columns in Volume II: the next chapter of A Vampire’s Vengeance was released, albeit a little late; a new old story is presented, continuing the theme of evil doctors; we feature two films in cadence with our classic horror trope of the unethical doctor; and we are just so absolutely thrilled to share the latest issue of the Necropolitan Gazette by our dearest Groundskeeper!
Top it all off by diving into the next chapter of Bus Driver. Or skip everything and jump straight to Bus Driver. Just read Bus Driver.
So much to see! Let’s get into it →
What is House? Why, it’s our serial foray into the wide world of social media! And also a story of a haunted house. You can never go wrong when writing about haunted houses, right? RIGHT? We’re excited to see how this story unfolds as we bring Backstage to Threads. That’s right, this story is being written in real time, chapter by chapter, week by week, on Threads. You can find the first chapter—and subsequently the entire thread of chapters—here. Yes, yes we know, we have a number of attractions already in production that we must complete. Let me assure you, the construction on those attractions continues! House is simply our little experiment of what it looks like to build way out in the open. On social media. In front of everybody.
Oh gods what are we doing?!
Anywho, speaking of other attractions, here’s where we are on our overall foundational restructuring:
🟢 Body Count
🟢 The Groundskeeper
🟢 Rise of the Warlock Queen
🔴 Last Resort
Children of the Damned:
🟢 CYB3RPVNKCVNT
🟢 Unholy Requiem
🟢 Irreverent Eulogy
🟢 Shrine of Radiance
🟢 Dark Father
🟢 Archivist
As you can see, Last Resort remains to be completed. It will be done, we promise! And with it, we shall return to the Warlock Queen to finally bring her out in the open. Now then, on with the rest of this edition.
Our Groundskeeper has released another issue of the Necropolitan Gazette, and we are very excited to share it with you. Keep up with the Groundskeeper’s shenanigans by subscribing directly to the Gazette. You can read the latest issue here:
How does our vampire fare? So far, he has only the vandalized manor as a clue to the whereabouts of his coven. Where does he go from there? Only one way to find out! Catch up with our vampire here:
Last week, we followed the eccentric Dr. Ainsworth in his pathological experiment on a person’s determinism between knowledge and the unknown. This week, we follow another doctor on another depraved excursion:
Speaking of eccentric doctors and unethical scientists, let us match the energy in the literature with some unethical doctors in cinema, shall we? Check out this week’s Calamity on Cinema:
on sale now
A patron falls prey to the whimsical magic of a touring artist. Currently available only on Apple Books.
Our bus driver and his passengers are on their way! Sometimes, the worst of what we fear lies in the anticipation of what we think we fear. However, there are cases in which what is to be feared is justified in its anticipation. We shall discover in due time whether or not our bus driver’s fears are justified! If you missed Part IV, you can catch up right here. Now then, let us see how our merry little band fares on the first leg of their journey, shall we?
The bus rolled away from the compound and under the highway. The bus driver took his time moving the bus into the left-most lane. Most of the debris littering the road had been cleared away from a single lane. Soon, that single lane was enclosed with makeshift barriers—old cars, trucks, and motorcycles all crunched and packed against one another to limit the likelihood of a wanderer getting into the lane.
He sighed as the thought came to mind. He'd never seen a wanderer, but he knew all about them. The scouting groups came into contact with them often enough. These were the infected that remained in the urban centers, the ones who failed to migrate to the desert with the masses of infected. Alone, they were easy enough to deal with; they moved slow, aimless, and were ill-equipped to do much damage. They were easy to pick off when they were alone. In groups though, even small ones, they were a much greater threat. No one knew why or how, but a wanderer could turn banshee when in groups of three or more. As dangerous as it could be to confront a small group of wanderers, it was better to make yourself known than to surprise them; when startled, their screams would carry for miles around, drawing other wanderers and creating a swarm.
There was always a swarm.
The bus driver hoped they would avoid running into any wanderers. But they were moving, and they were holding a pretty good pace. If they surprised a group of wanderers on their route, they were likely to be long gone before the swarm arrived. He knew there were scouts set up along the route to keep the lane clear, so even seeing a wanderer was going to be unlikely. That is, if everything went according to plan.
The planning was insane. The hours he spent in meetings, trainings, and briefs tumbled around in his mind. So much had been hammered into him, all knowledge and skills, that it had started to feel like second nature. He could handle a shotgun with the ease by which he could handle a handgun with the ease by which he could drive this bus. And drills? There was not a person on this bus ill-equipped to deal with anything they came across in the wilds. Settlement leadership could be harsh sometimes, but for those who survived the infected and succeeded through the training regimen, life became a little less rough.
They were approaching the highway closest to the compound. Looking ahead, he saw the entrance they had carved from the lane to the highway. He should be able to make the transition without slowing down. He turned his attention back to the road before him and froze in his seat.
There was a person standing in the center of the lane a few hundred yards ahead. They weren't moving. Wavering, perhaps, but not walking. As the bus pulled closer, the driver began to make out details. They had long, shaggy dark hair doing little to hide the bulbous pale forehead. Little more than rags clung to their shoulders, draping down their limp arms and across their body. Their feet were bare and swollen. The bus continued forward while the person just stood there. The bus driver wondered how they hadn't noticed the bus.
As if the thought sparked realization, the body in the lane snapped its gaze to the oncoming bus, making eye contact with the bus driver. Terror surged into the bus driver's throat, his pulse quickened, and sweat broke out on his brow. He had been assured contact would be minimal, though cautioned it was still possible. He hoped against contact, but in this instant, those hopes were dashed.
They were heading straight for a Wanderer.
Wow, we were just introduced to Wanderers and we run right into one! Or, well, maybe not “run right into one” per se, but we see one. What is this infection like, that those who contract the disease are left with bulbous foreheads and great, big, shaggy hair? How does that work, I wonder. Perhaps we shall see in future chapters, yes? Now, how will our bus driver deal with the Wanderer? Only one way to find out! You can read Part VI here.
So much to see! Vampires and Wanderers and malicious doctors and scientists. How interesting! Well, we love a little sci-fi with our horror, right? There’s plenty more to come, too! Thank you so much for joining us Backstage. We hope you’re enjoying your time. Remember to drop by the gift shop on your way out, and do please fill out the survey below. Until next time!
Toodles,
Mad Alex
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