The Welcome to another edition of Nightmarefews and Peepers.

I'm Dan Cummins, and I'll be sharing another original short story of the fictional horror variety.

Today's tale, as I'm assuming you guessed from the title,

is a continuation of the previous nightmare fuel.

I hope it wraps up the story to your satisfaction, at least for now.

As always, I highly recommend noise cancellation headphones for the best experience.

Hope you enjoy this new nightmare. Time now for the best experience. Hope you enjoy this new nightmare.

Time now for the tale of Moloch's Pact II,

Satanic Panic.

Deacons Point, 1988.

One month following the disappearance of Lincoln Clay and and tera jennings and just before midnight

thirty-four year old detective rob shoemaker sat in the living room of his two-bedroom duplex

sipping instant coffee from the world's number one dad mug his sister lana gave him when he was

home from college over a decade earlier, a year or so

before she had drowned in Sand Lake at a house party, a party he was also at. He was inside drinking

by the keg, laughing with some friends and hitting on some girl from out of town whose name he can

no longer remember when it happened. He didn't even

know she had gone swimming until she was already dead. He'd had the cup so long now he didn't

always think about where it came from, who gave it to him, or how guilt over not being able to save

his sister's life pushed him into a career of trying to save the lives of others. It didn't always

fill him with both sadness over Lana's death and also joy, or at least something close to joy,

over the memory of her absurd, quirky sense of humor. She'd bought it for him after he and his girlfriend

...