ASTRAL ROB
Episode 1: Waking Isn't Always Wanting
Episode 2: Echoes Over Beaver Creek
Episode 3: A Long Day’s Night
Episode 4: Night’s Not Over Yet
Episode 7: Late Night Coffees
Rob slept.
Not just slept. He rested—for the first time in years.
The boxed breathing routine had done something. Not just calmed his nerves, but lit a fuse inside him. He woke up charged. Lighter. Sharper. Like someone had jump-started his soul with jumper cables and fresh coffee.
Last night’s trip... It was real.
Short, but real.
He couldn’t wait to go again—longer this time.
After inhaling a hot breakfast of maple oats mixed with Raisin Bran (a favorite hybrid from darker days), Rob headed for the shower.
The doorbell rang first.
Ding-dong.
He padded to the door, towel over shoulder. When he opened it, he froze.
“Detective Coleman?”
“Morning,” the detective said. “You got a few minutes?”
Inside, over lukewarm coffee, Coleman got right to it.
“I’m sure you’ve heard about the woman...”
“The one who... exploded?” Rob interrupted.
“Yeah. But there was another. A teenage boy.”
Rob’s mug hit the table. “What? Two deaths in two days?”
Coleman nodded grimly. “And we’re still processing what this means. I came to check in on you—and to warn you.”
He slid a photograph across the table.
An evidence shot.
The teen’s chest.
The mark.
Rob’s stomach flipped. “Glenn’s signature…”
He trailed off. Something was different. He squinted. “Wait. That’s not carved with a blade.”
Coleman leaned forward. “Exactly. The coroner says... it looks like it was scratched in. From under the skin.”
Scratched... from the inside.
“Was there anything like that on the woman?” Rob asked.
“There wasn’t enough of her left to know,” Coleman replied. “But the coroner mentioned dermal tearing consistent with... internal force. Like something pulled her apart from beneath the dermis.”
Rob swallowed hard.
His mind flashed back to the man who walked through his astral body during that first projection.
He felt that man. That presence. That entry.
It was just a flash. But it meant something.
Coleman stood, collecting the photo. “I’ll keep you in the loop. But keep this between us, okay? Official investigation.”
Rob nodded. “Thanks. Really.”
Work that night at Idle Hands felt... wrong.
Off rhythm. Off center.
Marcel tried. His usual one-liners flew, but Rob’s brain wasn’t in the room.
“By the ears!” Marcel shouted over Tiffany’s “I Think We’re Alone Now.”
“What?” Rob blinked.
“That’s how I hold my liquor!” Marcel beamed, miming two floppy ears.
“Oh... gotcha. By the ears.”
Drinks poured. Bills broke. Tips received.
Clock ticked.
Patrons trickled out.
Closing time.
In the staff room, chatter buzzed. Banter sparked. But Rob stayed quiet.
As he grabbed his jacket to leave, Wendy brushed past him.
Casual. Subtle.
She slipped a folded note into his hand.
Rob,
I couldn’t help but notice you were reading that OMNI magazine yesterday on your break.
If you were reading the article on astral projection…
Meet me at Denny’s tonight after your shift.
I know some things you might be interested in.
Hell—even if you weren’t reading that article,
meet me for coffee anyway.
I’ll be there until 4AM.
—Wendy
Rob sat in the driver’s seat for a long time, rereading it.
Smiling.
End of Episode 7
Meanwhile...
The guard made his rounds through solitary. Two occupied cells. One silent.
Too silent.
Others would be pacing. Crying. Screaming.
Some doing pushups. Others...
...well, other things.
But not Glenn.
He just lay there.
Breathing.
Deep.
Slow.
Smiling.
