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The blast blew Katerina into the parking lot.

She roused slowly. Ow! she thought. Why does the back of my head hurt so much?

Her eyes snapped open.

What the? Where am I?

She was lying on her back, looking up. Where’s the moon? It was just past full when she got in her car.

My car. Oh my god! Peter!

She tried to scream, but only a warbly croak came out. She sat up, wincing. Looking at her legs, she saw a big gash in her left shin, blood pouring from the wound. Feeling the back of her head, she found a big goose egg, but no blood.

Her phone was at the edge of the parking lot, so she started a painful, slow crawl toward it. The wind kept getting colder. As she crawled, she gazed around. What the fuck? There’s no debris, no fire, no sirens. Inexplicably, she could still hear that awful song. No, wait, that’s, that’s the theme song for that old TV show, The Twilight Zone.

She stopped, turned over, and sat to rest for a minute. The pain nearly knocked her out again.

She noticed two cars several spaces from where her phone lay.

Good grief, is that a Ford Taurus? It looks brand new. Phew, at least mine is ok.

Or is it? She realized her car looked foggy. Like it was covered with gauze.

Peter! Peter! Where is he? WHAT IS GOING ON?

A gust of chill wind blasted by just as The Twilight Zone music stopped.

Now a voice was saying, “That was Rod Serling’s Twilight Zone theme. Perfect for this creepy Halloween night. This is Rick Morrison coming to you live from WBLR’s Studio B. Now, the number one most requested song on this night when anything can happen. Michael Jackson’s Thriller. Sit back, folks, this is the long version.”

Katerina resumed the crawl to her phone as quickly as she could. She tossed up a prayer that it still worked, grateful that she had just fully charged it.

Finally! She picked it up, turned it over and pressed the button for Peter.

No Service

A wailing shriek worked its way up from her gut.

PETER!

The studio door burst open, and a man she’d never seen before ran to her.

“Holy shit! You’re really hurt. What’s your name? How did you get here? I need to call you an ambulance.”

Katerina was now shaking violently.

“Kat, Katerina. My car,” she waved vaguely toward the Taurus.

“No, that’s my car. Can you stand? Let me get you into the car so you can sit more comfortably.”

“No, no. My car. Put me in my car.”

“Katerina, the only car here is mine.”

Looking past the Taurus, Katerina could still see her car, but it looked even foggier than before.

After seating her in the car, the stranger said, “Look. Stay here. I’m going in to call an ambulance for you.”

Lifting the phone still clutched in her hand, she said, “My phone. No service.”

“Your phone? That? What are you, FBI or something? Just wait.”

The guy had wrapped a shirt around her leg, and it wasn’t bleeding anymore. She had to go find Peter. He was in his car. Why? How could she find him? What had he said? He told her to drive away and not open the door. But she had opened it. Then the blast. Was he in his car, or in the studio?

She had to go look for him. She could stand now, so she staggered to her car. It still looked almost see-through. She stretched out her hand to steady herself on the trunk. There was nothing there. She fell face first back onto the asphalt. She knew no more.

Inside Studio B, Rick rushed over to the phone. On his way, he noticed the coffee maker had turned itself back on and the reel-to-reel player was back on, too. What is going on in here?

A pop from inside the transmitter cabinet pulled him up short. Then he smelled it. Electrical burning.

Just before he snatched up the phone receiver, the old black phone, the one that had never worked… was ringing. A sudden sense of Déjà vu knocked the wind out of him.

He heard the door on the other side of the studio open.

What the fuck? There’s nobody else here.

Two hideous men lurched into the studio. They barely had faces. Heavy scars covered them. One was missing his nose, the other an ear. Halloween costumes? Then the putrid smell emanating from them reached his own nose.

One of them, whose eyes looked familiar, whispered, “You can stop this.”

Here’s what we have so far:

Thread # 1 by Kaili Bisson: Peter is broadcasting a Halloween special from Studio B when the station’s dead telephone line begins ringing. The caller (Rick) claims to be broadcasting from the same studio, but thirty years in the past. Then the caller describes a fire that will happen in the present studio before the next song ends.

Thread # 2 by Zeest Zulfiqar: Peter makes a run for his life, driving away onto the highway. But his wife Katerina has just reached the studio to meet him, and the song is about to end. If Rick was right, there will be a fire soon…

Thread #3 by Robbi Walls: Even though Peter screamed at her not to, Katerina opened the WBLR door. She was blasted into the parking lot and injured. Was she also blasted into the past?

Think you know what happens next? Comment with the magic words “I’m claiming the next Thread,” and you’re up!

Tagging Claire Noire♡, Miriam Connolly, John Hansen PAL, Sunita Chakraborty, Clarity, Aspiring Reader, Sudarsan K Das, and Zeest Zulfiqar.

Find all the Halloween Special Stitches, presented by our very own Kaili Bisson. Enjoy them!

Halloween Stitches

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The Halloween Broadcast was originally published in Weave It Together on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.