There lies an enormous country club in the forest near the Maine and Vermont border. 220 acres of beautiful lush forest containing several buildings, an entire 18-hole golf course, a hunting range, and even an indoor and outdoor movie theater. The club is named Saint-Mihel and I have both the great honor and great misfortune of working there.

My name is Theodore Fairfax, Ted for short, and I began working at Saint-Mihel several months ago. I started out as a simple valet and was soon promoted to working as a glorified servant for the rich assholes who frequent the club. Whether it’s following them around as they practice their golf swings and acting as their caddie, or following them around when they hunt out in the forest for pheasants and the odd deer. Sometimes I’m even forced to wash their cars.

Let’s just say, acting as their glorified butler isn’t exactly what I signed up for when I decided to work here. Made much worse by the fact that all these rich assholes barely tip me anything. The most I’ve ever gotten in tips was five dollars, and that was after I went swimming in the golf course pond to get a ball that had fallen in there so my client wouldn’t ruin his game. Getting attacked by geese and turtles and all I got was a fiver.

I was seriously considering just quitting and working at a Wendy’s or something, if it hadn’t been for one particularly interesting shift that really made me rethink if I wanted to leave or not. The day had started off like any other, me taking an uber to work and getting out in time to see my boss, Gerald, absolutely losing his shit with everyone around him. Now that was normal for the most part, Gerald is an asshole after all, but this time it felt very different. Normally he has a calm demeanor, one that makes you think that he’s actually enjoying being the giant asshole that he usually is. But this time he was in a full-blown panic.

“Fairfax! You lazy asshole, get over here!” He ordered me just as I fished a cigarette out of my pocket. I held back what I wanted to say to him and simply walked over to him as he continued to bark orders in a seemingly blind and angry panic. “Listen you deadbeat, I need you to be on your best behavior. The owner is coming with his party and god help you if you somehow piss him off!” he shouted at me, going a million miles an hour with each word.

“Sinclair? He never comes here though. He’s always too busy with his rehab center.” I of course had heard of Constantine Sinclair. You couldn’t call yourself a New Englander if you hadn’t heard of him and his Sombra Rehab Center. I’ll admit that I had no idea this was his country club until a good three months into working here. But you’d be forgiven for not knowing since he never seems to visit this place.

“Well, he’s coming now. So get the lead out and start doing something!” Gerald shouted at me, his pudgy face bright red with anger and sweat. I couldn’t help but give him a cheeky smile as I held up the cigarette I still had between my fingers.

“I’m taking my smoke break,” I told him. I could tell he wanted to tear me limb from limb, but I also knew that he needed me. “I’ll just smoke this and then do whatever it is you want me to do.” I told him as I placed the tobacco stick in my mouth and fished around in my pocket for my bic.

“You better smoke that thing fast. Or I’ll kick your ass so hard, your nose will bleed.” Gerald spat at me, turning to enter the lobby and return to his endless shouting. I couldn’t help but give a silent laugh at him as I fished out my bic lighter and was finally able to light my cigarette. Taking a few puffs from it, I leaned against the wall as I enjoyed my last few moments of freedom.

Then suddenly, I heard faint music. Real quiet at first but then it slowly started to build. Coinciding with a car I saw coming up the driveway at blazing-fast speeds. My jaw nearly hit the fucking floor when I saw the model of the car. 1957 Chevy Bel Air convertible. My fucking dream car, and even in the same beautiful green body I wanted it in. The cigarette fell out of my mouth as I watched the car speeding towards me. Finally, the music was within earshot of me and able to be deceived. And it was Starman by David Bowie, playing at full volume as the car came to the roundabout and came to a final halt right in front of me.

“Hey, do I park here? Or do you take my keys and park somewhere for me?” the man in the seat of my dream car asked as he turned down the music enough to be able to comprehend him. And yet my eyes and mind were clearly glued to the car that I had wanted all my life.

“Wha-” Was the only word I managed to barf out as I finally peeled my eyes off the car to look at the driver. It wasn’t Sinclair, it was a younger man, with messy brown hair, glasses, and the most gorgeous eyes I had ever seen on a man. “A-a-are you…a member?” I finally managed to spit out.

“No, but I’ve got an invitation from Constantine.” The mystery man told me as he fished into his doctor’s coat and pulled out an envelope. I crushed the cigarette that had fallen out of my mouth with my foot and cautiously approached the convertible. Taking the slip of paper I looked it over. Not exactly knowing what to do with it and nodding. “You guys have a place to change? I came straight from work and I’d rather not have him see me in my scrubs.” He told me with a silky smooth voice.

“Uhm, yes sir.” I nodded. Now unable to tear my eyes off of this man. “Can I uh…get your name? F-for the registry?” I asked him. I did technically need to do that, but I really just wanted to know who this guy was.

“Oh sure!” he said with a loud laugh, turning his car off and smiling at me. “Dr. James Harrison at your service!” He looked around still wondering what he was supposed to do with his car. I had never heard of him, but I was definitely going to look him up after all this.

“You can leave your car here, sir. The changing rooms are through the main lobby and directly left.” I told him as I reached down and opened the door for him to step out. It was only when he did so that I noticed his entire lower half was covered in blood. I paused for a second as we both met eyes and then both looked down at his bloodstained articles of clothing.

“Sorry about this. I just came from surgery. I thought I was running late so I didn’t even bother to change! But it seems like I’m actually the first one here.” He told me with a smile, and I couldn’t help but agree with the fact that it sounded completely logical.

“Just…try not to get it on the floor. My manager would freak out.” I told him, to which he nodded and gave me a soft shoulder punch as he walked past me. I softly rubbed my shoulder where he had hit me and felt a hot rush come upon my face.

“He’s way out of your league, son.” A mysterious southern voice told me. I shouted out loud and stepped back to see who the hell it was that was talking to me within earshot. And I let out an even louder shout when I saw the pale-skinned, buttoned-eyed creature that had somehow gotten so close to me undetected. Losing my footing I fell flat on my ass as I stared up at the freakishly tall man. “Oh! I do apologize, Ted. Didn’t mean to frighten you as much as I did.” The mystery southern man told me as he reached a gloved hand down to me.

I took it and was lifted up with relative ease up onto my feet. Stepping back, I took in the view of this new visitor. Taller than me, with a suit, top hat, and even a cane. He looked like something right out of a silent movie. Nosferatu or some shit.

“I take it…you’re also Mr. Sinclair’s guest?” He gave a nod and it was then that I noticed the number of stitches this man had on his body. His mouth was stitched up, his head was connected to his neck by stitches, and he had buttons for eyes. It was feeling more and more like he was some creature straight from my nightmares.

“King Creole, at your service.” He took his top hat off and bowed down before me. “I’d show you my invitation but I’m sure Gerald will remember me.” He chuckled, looking over towards the entrance of the estate and looking back at me. “If you’re looking at quitting,” he said, flicking his fingers and producing a business card out of thin air. “I’m always hiring,” he said with a slight cackle as he walked away, the tapping of his cane against the stone steps like some sort of ominous clock.

Looking down at the business card I raised a brow at it. ‘O’l King Creole’s Half Priced Voodoo Store’. Thinking nothing about it, I shoved it into my pocket and looked around to see if there were going to be any other wild creatures that were going to appear out of thin air and scare the shit out of me. I was sort of right when a limousine suddenly appeared on the horizon. Preparing myself this time I stood up straight and waited for the long black car to approach.

“Do you guys have a buffet here?” a new, unknown voice asked me, causing me to yelp out in surprise and once again end up flat on my ass. “Is that a yes or no?” this unknown voice asked me. Looking up I was met with the most confusing person I had ever laid eyes upon. He was wearing a tailcoat and that alone looked like it qualified him to be a member here. But then upon close inspection of him, I was more confused than I was afraid. A large scar ran down his face, his hair was long and white with only the very ends being black, and his eyes looked like what an acid trip would look like.

“Uhm. We have a kitchen that will cook you anything you want, sir.” I told him as I got off the floor and brushed myself down from the dirt and pebbles that had found their way onto my body. He seemed to ponder over this and offered me a simple shrug.

“I’ll hold them to that,” he said cryptically and started to walk past me. I was about to ask him if he was even supposed to be here, but after seeing King Creole I was pretty sure he was meant to be here. “Oh, one more thing,” he suddenly said, causing me to turn back around to look at him. My eyes immediately were drawn to something catching the sun’s rays on his lapel. There was a golden pin of a praying mantis staring back at me. “You people have a golf course here, yes?”

“Uh, yes sir.” I told him as I squinted to avoid the shine coming off the pin he was wearing. A wide smile stretched across his face as he turned around all giddy with excitement. “Creole! You’re going down this time!” he shouted as he sprinted up the stairs towards the entrance.

“Keep dreaming, Antonio!” Came the shout in response. I didn’t have much time to think about anything before the limousine pulled up and stopped just behind Harrison’s convertible. Walking down to the door I opened it and was immediately met with an umbrella shoved into my face.

“You must be new here.” An annoyed voice told me as I backed up from the umbrella. I was confused as to who would bring an umbrella on such a nice day like this but that thought quickly went out the window when I saw who was holding the umbrella.

“M-Mr. Sinclair! Uhm, yes. I only started working here three months ago.” I told him as I took a hold of his umbrella and quickly covered his blonde head from the rays of the sun. He didn’t really seem to acknowledge anything I had just said, but I was mostly used to that when it came to the rich assholes who frequented his country club.

“I assume the others have all arrived?” he finally asked me once he was completely out of the limousine. I nodded and he nodded back at me. “I’d ask you to help with my final guest, but I’m sure Gerald can handle him.” Sinclair told me as he motioned for me to start walking. I nodded and walked along with him, holding his umbrella up high as we entered the lobby.

Gerald came running over to us and was clearly doing his best not to tear me a new one as he saw that I had already gotten to Mr. Sinclair. “Mr. Sinclair! It’s so good to see you back here!” Gerald said as he entered full-blown ass kiss mode.

“Tone it down, Gerald. I’m not here because I want to be here. I’m only here because these assholes want to be here.” Sinclair sighed, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a cigar from it. He handed it to me and I stared at it for a moment wondering what he wanted me to do. Apparently, he didn’t want me to do anything to it as all of a sudden the smell of burning tobacco entered my nostrils and I looked down to see that somehow the cigar had been lit.

“Constantine!” Came an excited familiar voice. Turning to see who it was I felt my face go red when I saw that it was Dr. Harrison. He was dressed now in a suit like all the others had been and it made him look even more spectacular.

“Ah, James. I see you made it. Oh, that reminds me. Gerald, go and help Monsieur LeBlanc out of my limo.” I looked at Gerald and saw his face lose all color. He swallowed a lump in his throat and began to nervously fidget with his hands.

“L-LeBlanc is here?” He asked for confirmation. To which Sinclair nodded and shooed him away as he started walking, with me and Dr. Harrison in toe as I still held the umbrella over his head. He hadn’t told me to stop and he hadn’t made known his displeasure in my doing it, so I just kept on doing it.

“Your father built a lovely estate, Constantine,” Dr. Harrison said after a moment of silence between the three of us. Sinclair scoffed at the mention of his father, leading us over to a large portrait that hung from the wall of the main lobby. The imposing figure staring back down at the three of us was quite portly and had a big thick mustache. Below the portrait was an inscription that read, ‘Cornelius Augustus Sinclair 1862-1919’.

“He spent more time here than he did with me.” Sinclair tsked angrily and spun on his heels away from the portrait. I couldn’t help but continue looking at the inscription and wonder if it was correct. Those birth and death dates didn’t make much sense in my head. But before I could question that oddity, another quickly entered my focus when I suddenly heard one of the female staffers let out a loud shriek.

“We probably shouldn’t have brought him,” Dr. Harrion said with a sigh as we looked toward the entrance of the lobby to see a wheelchaired person biting the arm of one of the girls on the staff. The silver-masked person in the chair had a seeming death grip on her as she screamed aloud and begged him to let her go.

“I wanted to leave him. But if we’re all here, he has to be here as well. Those are the rules.” Sinclair sighed as he took a big long puff from his cigar. Letting out a long puff of smoke he looked me in the eyes and I could see how tired his eyes looked. Heavily bagged and seemingly old beyond his somewhat youthful appearance. “Well if I must be here, we might as well go bird shooting,” he finally said to me, breaking the little staring contest we had going on. “Gerald!” he shouted out.

Gerald, who at that moment was trying to pry, who I was guessing was LeBlanc, off of the poor girl. He looked over at us and then to LeBlanc before letting go of him and rushing over to us, that kiss-ass look back on his face.

“Fetch me my shotgun. I’m going bird shooting.” Sinclair told him the simple order before shooing him away. Gerald looked at me and truly seemed like he wanted to strangle me for getting such an easy job. But he dutifully bowed and quickly scurried off to go and fetch the owner his shotgun.

“I’ve never been bird shooting,” Dr. Harrison said as we started off toward the rear of the lobby that led to the forest where hunting was permitted. As we exited into the sunny outdoors, we were very nearly run over by a speeding golf cart. Thinking on instinct, I quickly grabbed Sinclair’s arm and yanked him back as the cart went speeding past us.

“Sorry, Sinclair! We’re taking this baby out for a spin!” Came Antonio’s cackling voice as he sped around in circles. Sinclair looked like he was about to snap someone’s neck and as he looked down at my hand wrapped around his arm; I quickly let him go and held my hand up defensively.

“Creole! Why did you let that moron drive a golf cart!” Sinclair shouted loudly and pointed at the cart as it did donuts, tearing up the grass. I was confused at first before I noticed that indeed the cart had two occupants.

“He said he wanted to drive! Can’t exactly turn him down when he said please!” Creole’s southern voice came from the spinning golf cart as it sped away after finally finishing its donuts. I could practically see the steam bellowing from Sinclair and I wanted to run as far away as possible. But I was stuck holding his umbrella so I was glued to him.

“Thank you,” he finally said after a moment of calming down. I didn’t know he was talking to me until I could see that he was holding his hand out toward me. I quickly took it and shook it, smiling a little and trying to play it off. “Theodore Fairfax, huh?” He read my nametag and looked me over for a few more seconds. “An interesting name.”

“My parents are fond of old-sounding names,” I said with an awkward laugh. Sinclair nodded and went back to looking out at the forest. Suddenly loud panting came from behind us and I saw Gerald holding an ornate shotgun and a few boxes of shells in his arms.

“Y-your shotgun, sir,” he said through wheezing breaths. Dr. Harrison came forth and took the objects from the wheezing manager and held onto them, starting to load the double-barreled shotgun. “S-sir? Could you please do something about Monsieur LeBlanc? H-he’s starting to rip that poor girl to pieces.” I could feel my stomach drop when I heard that, but Sinclair seemed to care little for what was going on inside.

“Not my problem. Just make sure he doesn’t try to mate with any of my employees. The last thing I need right now is to deal with that mess. Come on you two, before anything else annoying happens to us.” He told me and Harrison as he started to walk toward the forest. I followed him quickly and Dr. Harrison soon after, leaving Gerald there to deal with whatever horrible thing was going on inside the lobby.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you use a gun before, sir,” Dr. Harrison said as we began to walk through the tall trees. “After everything you’ve been through, I just thought you wouldn’t really enjoy doing this.”

“Shooting some birds isn’t serving on the western front, James,” Sinclair said simply, letting the conversation die there. We were silent for a handful of minutes before finally Sinclair broke the silence with a question to me. “You can keep what you’ve seen here secret, right Theodore?”

“O-of course, sir.” I told him, having to remember what my full name was. Sinclair nodded and led out into a clearing that was surrounded by trees on all sides and was a perfect place for a picnic; or in our case, some bird hunting. Dr. Harrison handed the shotgun over to Sinclair and we all waited in silence. The sounds of the forest were relaxing after the chaos that had just happened back at the lobby.

Suddenly a couple of pheasants leaped out from the tall grass and started making a run for the sky. Sinclair calmly leveled his shotgun and let loose both barrels. Three birds fell back down to the ground and Sinclair handed the firearm back to Harrison for reloading.

“Great shot, sir.” I told him, actually impressed that he’d managed to shoot and hit them in such a short time.

“Thank you Theodore,” he said simply, motioning for the gun from Dr. Harrison as several more pheasants began to make a run for the sky after the loud bangs of the first volley. The good doctor got the gun reloaded and quickly handed it back to Sinclair who proceeded to unload both barrels in quick succession. Two more pheasants fell back to Earth as the others began to scatter in multiple directions.

“Very well done indeed, sir!” Dr. Harrison said with excitement as he was handed the gun again. He began to load another round in when a loud distant explosion caused all of us to look back toward the lobby.

“What did those idiots do this time?” Sinclair groaned as he simply turned back around. “Well, what are you waiting for? Go get them.” I thought he was talking to me, and I contemplated how exactly he wanted me to do that. But before I could verbalize my confusion, a sudden pungent smell of rot and decay overwhelmed me and forced a gag up from my stomach. Looking at Sinclair I was stunned to see a humanoid creature staring back at him with all five pheasants in his arms. It was dripping in black sludge but I could tell that it was sort of human-shaped with a head and neck.

“Attention all Saint-Mihel employees! We have a Code Green! I repeat a Code Green!” Gerald’s voice shouted over the loudspeakers of the resort. I stared back in confusion at the trio, I had no idea what a code green was. But seemingly Dr. Harrison and Sinclair knew perfectly what it was.

“What do you think upset him this time? Losing to Creole?” the doctor said as he took the shells he had loaded into the gun out and back into their box. “Or complaining about the food again?” he asked.

“Whatever the reason, this is the last time I allow him to set foot on her.” Sinclair hissed, shoving the group of dead pheasants into my arms and yanking the umbrella away from me. He started walking back into the forest and all I and Dr. Harrison could do was follow him as quickly as we could with all our items.

“Sir!” Gerald panted upon seeing us exiting the forest. “It’s Garibaldi! He’s destroying the golf course!” Sinclair sighed and rubbed his eyes, finally having finished his cigar he let it drop from his mouth and I watched as the creature emerged from the shadow he cast on the floor and squashed it with his hand.

“Any particular reason?” he asked Gerald, clearly done with this whole day.

“I believe he was expecting a mini-golf course,” King Creole said in his southern sing-songy voice. The top hat-wearing creature walked over to us, covered head to toe in grass, dirt, and blood. “I believe he did not take kindly to the rules of golf either,” The buttoned-eyed man said with a simple shrug.

“Oh for God’s sake.” Sinclair groaned, planting his face into his hands and letting out a loud and audible grunt. “How long will it take him to calm down?” he asked Creole, only receiving a simple shrug.

“Maybe by the time he gets to the ninth hole?” Was all he said as he started up the stairs to the main lobby, whistling all the way through his stitched-up mouth. Sinclair groaned some more before shaking his head and starting up after him. I stood there with Dr. Harrison and the pheasants, unsure if I was supposed to follow after him.

“I think he’s calling it a day,” Dr. Harrison said as he handed the gun off to Gerald and followed after the disgruntled rehab operator. Gerald and I stared at each other for a moment before I also dumped the pheasants on him and raced after the duo, managing to escape my manager before he could formulate his yelling words.

“Theodore,” Sinclair’s voice called me over once I had entered the lobby. He was again standing before the portrait of his father, and I quickly stepped over to him. He was holding another cigar and I watched as that creature emerged from the wall this time and lit a match for him. “You’ve been quiet and discreet for the whole day. I enjoy that in an employee.” He told me with a puff from his cigar.

“Uhm, thank you, sir.” I told him as I looked up at the portrait of his father. Still trying to wrap my head around everything that was happening. Any process of thinking rationally was thrown out the window when a body came flying in from the outside. Turning to see what was happening I was petrified to see who I deduced was Antonio. Only he was transformed into some horribly grotesque creature. It was as if he’d fused with a praying mantis and had grown a good ten feet.

“You call this golf?!” he screeched as he continued to seemingly throw a tantrum. Only when I heard desperate screaming did I notice that Gerald was trying to crawl away from him. The creature looked down at him and screeched again before leaning down and proceeding to bite and rip Gerald’s leg off like it was nothing.

“Great. Now I need a new manager.” Sinclair shook his head and simply turned around while Antonio began to eat Gerald piece by piece. I couldn’t bear to watch it so I just quickly followed after Sinclair for my own sanity and protection. “I doubt that you would want to do it.” He told me, continuing to puff from his cigar like a chimney in winter. I honestly didn’t even want to work here anymore, so his assessment was definitely correct.

“I’m sure there are other more qualified people than me, sir.” I told him as I followed him outside and back to his limo. He simply grunted at me and continued to puff on his cigar. He looked around and finally back at me, pointing a finger at me.

“Do me a favor, son.” He told me, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a checkbook. “Make sure everyone stays quiet about this.” He handed the book to me and I looked at him in utter confusion. “No more than 50,000 for the men and 20,000 for the women.” He told me, turning around to enter the limo as his shadow creature opened the door for him. “Feel free to give yourself double. Good job today.” He told me as the creature closed the door behind him and the limo began to drive away.

“Not bad, Ted. You made a great first impression on him. That’s hard to do.” Creole told me, appearing from behind me and causing me to nearly drop the checkbook. I spun on my heels to look at him and was surprised to see that he was completely clean. “Who knows, you could really go places. If you ever have a wish, don’t hesitate to give lil’ ol’ me a call,” he said with a chuckle and patted me hard on the back. “Come along Antonio! I think we’ve caused enough carnage for one visit.” He walked past me, tapping his cane on the floor.

Antonio emerged from the inside, once again looking like a human. Brushing out his long hair with his hands he walked past me, grumbling in annoyance before he turned to look back at me for a moment. I felt a shiver go down my spine as he gave me a stare a predator gives its prey before eating.

“You’re lucky I’m full,” he said with a smile, the scar on his face splitting open and a tongue rolling out of it before he turned around and followed after Creole. I stood there shivering and really considered quitting on the spot after writing myself a fat check.

“Well, Theodore, thanks so much for a lovely afternoon. I must say you have one of the nicer faces I’ve seen here.” Dr. Harrison told me as he walked up next to me. He was back into his scrubs and lab coat but they had been cleaned and he looked like he was ready to go back to work.

“Oh, uh, thanks?” I told him in confusion. Our eyes met, and his glowing green eyes suddenly erased any unease I may have felt over having this job. “Stop by my clinic if you ever want some work done.” He told me with a smile as he entered my dream car and turned it on, David Bowie once again blasting through the speakers as he put pedal to meddle and began to speed away.

I swallowed a lump in my throat and smacked the checkbook against my palm, thinking about how I was supposed to feel after a range of mixed emotions like that. The snarling sounds and screaming pulled me back to reality upon remembering that there was still one member of Sinclair’s party who had yet to leave.

Turning around I was met with another creature, walking on four legs like a centaur and in its maw it had one of my coworkers. The creature opened its mouth and let the carcass fall out from his mouth.

“Have the others left?” the creature asked me in a perfectly normal voice. I was confused and beyond shocked. The creature’s mouth hung open but words came out like a speak and spell or some sort of AI voice.

“Y-yes, sir.” I nodded and held onto the checkbook for dear life.

“Monsieur, would you please get back into your wheelchair?” a haggard and tired voice asked. We both looked back and noticed an exhausted-looking nurse holding the ancient-looking wheelchair out for the creature. LeBlanc looked back at me and turned itself around on all its legs and slowly walked back to the nurse. With sickening bone crunching and spasms, the creature forced its legs back into its body and sat back down in the wheelchair. The nurse put a blanket over his legs and began to roll him back into the lobby.

After all that, there were some 47 casualties, 15 of them being fatal. Yet I was told that that was lower than the usual average. All the other employees took the checks that had been offered by Sinclair and we all collectively agreed to not speak about it to anyone.

I got a promotion afterward, going from little bitch errand boy to being a premium bitch errand boy. I still have to do whatever those rich asswipes tell me to do. But at the very least they are forced to tip me. So I guess not everything was so bad off of that visit.