Necro Files: Two Decades of Extreme Horror

Harvey Ponozzo had left a message on his cell phone last night and instructed him on where they were to meet today to make the drop-off for the tape. Dennis returned the call late last night, telling Harvey he would be there, and now as he made the drive to Colorado Boulevard, looking for Phan Liquor store, he hoped to have all this swept under the rug as soon as possible. Get Harvey the tape, then he could resume his life. He was positive he could get a new job soon and when he did, he wasn’t going to look at a porn magazine or website ever again. In fact, he was going to expand his job search and consider positions out of state. The further away he could get away from Los Angeles, the better.

He made the drop-off quickly. Harvey was waiting for him in his silver Mercedes and Dennis handed him a brown paper bag containing the tape. “I’ll call you later this afternoon,” Harvey said, starting his car. He pulled out of the parking slot and Dennis went back to his car, feeling as if a heavy burden had been suddenly lifted from him.

The rest of the day would have gone smoothly except for one thing.

Harvey Panozzo never called him.

Dennis began to worry about it that evening as he feigned normalcy in the den. Carrie was watching the evening news. The kids were … well, who knew where the kids were this time of the evening. Dennis made a half-hearted attempt at getting his resume updated and actually visited a pornography addicts support group on the Internet. He’d been thinking about his actions all afternoon, and how they’d affected his job and his life. He was finally coming to terms that he had a problem and he had to face it, deal with it, correct it. He still didn’t want Carrie or the kids to know about it, and he hoped that keeping it away from them while secretly trying to conquer his problem would do the trick. He still had to stay away from the stuff. He hoped Harvey Panozzo didn’t call him back.

“How’d the job search go today?” Carrie asked from her spot on the sofa.

“Good,” Dennis lied, rustling the paper. “I updated my resume, made a few phone calls. I’m hoping to get at least one interview by next week.”

“Think you’ll have something by then?” Carrie looked concerned. “Our house taxes are going to be due pretty soon. With Wendy’s college tuition coming up in Fall, it’s going to be kinda tough.”

“We’ll be fine,” Dennis said. Shit, he thought. He’d completely forgotten about the goddamn taxes. Without a job to cover him, Wendy’s college tuition was in jeopardy. The money he had in the bank was already earmarked for it. The house taxes would eat all that up.

“Are you sure?” Carrie was looking at him with concern.

Dennis smiled. “We’ll be fine, honey. I promise.”

He told himself that over and over all night until he was convinced things would be fine. And they would be. He was sure of it.

* * *

Harvey called him the following morning.

“How’d you like to make some money?” Harvey asked.

Dennis was sitting at his desk in front of his computer. He had just updated his resume and printed ten copies on nice bond paper. The Los Angeles Times Employment section was spread out in front of him and he’d circled five job descriptions that appeared to match his skills and educational background. “Doing what?” he asked. He was immediately suspicious.

“Don’t worry, it’s legit.”

“I think I can find a new job on my own,” Dennis said. “Thanks for the offer of help, though.”

“I want to help,” Harvey continued. “Like I told you a few days ago, we prefer our members be professionally employed. That includes being able to network with us, allow us to help each other.”

“I don’t think I’m interested,” Dennis said. “In fact, I’ve changed my mind about the group. I no longer want to be a member.”

“You have three more tapes in your house,” Harvey said. “The police didn’t find them yesterday, but they will if they make another visit. While possession of bestiality films are only punishable by a small fine, possession of a necrophilia film will probably carry a murder charge.”

“What are you talking about?” Dennis felt his stomach drop. My God, did Harvey call the police and have them search my house? Did he get me fired from my job? If so, how?

“The film,” Harvey continued. “The one showing that guy screwing corpses. They’re murder victims, Dennis. Unsolved murders, I might add. The man in the videos is a hardcore junkie like you who’s a necrophile. Surely you don’t want your wife—your children—to know that you’re a—”

“I don’t have any such film in my safe,” Dennis stammered.

“You do now, and it’s not in your safe. It is in your study, though. When you were gone yesterday, one of our operatives broke into your home and planted it.”

Dennis felt all the spit dry up in his mouth.