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The Smashed Man Meets the Smiling Man — A Crossover Story

by GengarIsBestBoy


Author’s Note:

Hey there! This is a crossover story between two of my favorite books: The Small Spaces Series by Katherine Arden and The Smashed Man of Dread End by J.W Ocker. I highly recommend both of these, however I think you could probably still read this if you haven’t read the books. All you really need to know is that the smiling man is essentially omnipotent (he’s not 100% all powerful but he’s almost there). Also, yeah “The Smashed Man” sounds kinda inappropriate but I assure you it isn’t!

Also, the story has some descriptions of a character with lots of wounds, but I think it’s not that graphic (and he doesn’t have blood).

~~~

There was nothing about the smiling man that particularly screamed “diabolical” or “villainous.” He was overwhelmingly nondescript, like someone you’d see walking in the background of a movie. And even though he had shape-shifting abilities, anyone who’s encountered him before could recognize that smile in an instant. Who else could smile in a way that was so warm and welcoming and yet so twisted and cruel?

And who would have forgotten the things he’d done? Things like turning innocent children into mindless scarecrow minions or carnival prizes. He did horrible stuff like this for his own amusement.

It was on a night in late August that he found himself quite bored. His “favorite” trio of children—Olivia, Coco, and Brian—had permanently freed themselves from his grasp, so he needed to find new people to torment.

He appeared in front of a dead end cul-de-sac street. His arrival triggered a thick fog that seemed to wrap around the houses there. He could travel to a plane of existence higher than mortals, in which he called The World Behind the Mist. He didn’t want to risk being seen.

He walked out into the street, taking a look around. He couldn’t have been far from Vermont—the state that Olivia, Coco, and Brian lived in. The whole place seemed to be in a ravine, as there was a high rock wall surrounding it. There was a sign at the front of the street that should have said “Dead End;” however, there was a small curved R shaped like an Eye of Horus squeezed in between the letters. With the extra letter, the sign read “Dread End.” Next to that was a sign that read “Totter Court.”

The smiling man immediately became interested in the little neighborhood. There were certain corners of the world where weird things happened most. This cul-de-sac was definitely one of these places; he was sure of it.

He began walking down the street. The houses were just like any other house in any other neighborhood—except that the R found on the “Dread End” sign was also painted  on the walls and doors of each house. How peculiar, he thought. The R’s were blue-black with white speckles that looked just like stars. He was about to approach one to take a closer look when he saw something out of the corner of his eye.

He slowly turned his head and found that he wasn’t alone on the street.

Someone stood in front of a house, looking up at the attic window. From the back, he looked like a homeless man who was turned into a pancake; his clothes were torn and tattered, and his black hair was stringy and unkempt. However, both his hair and clothes seemed to be embedded into his body, because, oddly, he was flat like a piece of paper. As he stood, his body ripped and waved like a flag in the wind.

The smiling man’s attention shifted to where the monster was looking—up at the attic window. Three girls who couldn’t be older than thirteen peered out, watching the creature. There was a blonde girl with a red tank top and a redhead in a summer dress that reared back from the window. There was also a girl with beaded braids that stared back at the monster, as if she wasn’t afraid. They went on like this for a couple of minutes, neither the girls nor the monster moving an inch.

The creature eventually did turn around, but he obviously did not expect the smiling man to be standing there. He fumbled back a bit in surprise.

Before, he had looked like a homeless man that was flattened; now, he looked like a homeless man that was flattened by a bus. He had open wounds all over his body, some so deep you could see the muscle and bone (although, strangely, there wasn’t any blood). His face was especially mutilated. His teeth were broken and uneven, and his eyes were bloodshot, as if he hadn’t slept in years. He had purple irises that pierced the night like LEDs. Whatever the R’s were painted with seemed to be splattered across his face, as if it were dumped onto him or flung at him. He had a look of psychotic glee on his face.

The thing in front of him many have been the stuff of nightmares, but the smiling man wasn’t scared. What was there to be afraid of? He knew the monster couldn’t hurt him. Nothing could.

He also knew who the monster was. They had never met, but the smiling man knew a lot of things about the world that many may never know.

“So,” the smiling man asked, “I take it you’re the… Smashed Man I’ve been told about?” He was lying. He hadn’t been told anything; he simply just knew.

The Smashed Man didn’t say anything and instead cocked his head to the side in confusion. Although his crazed expression didn’t change, he seemed confused. He stared at the smiling man’s eyes. They were bluish gray when they should have been glowing purple.

The smiling man shouldn’t have been able to see him. No other adult could see him.

The Smashed Man was a creature that, rather impossibly, could be found in the basements of every single house in Totter court with kids. They lived in constant fear that he would sneak out of their basements and get them in the middle of the night. And as if living above a monster wasn’t bad enough, their parents were unable to see the Smashed Man; their eyes would turn purple if they looked at him.

The Smashed Man turned around to stare back at the girls in the attic window. Although his expression still did not change, the smiling man could see a bit of longing in that torn-up face.

A deliciously awful idea began to form in his brain.

“You really want to get them, huh?” He asked. The Smashed Man turned, and his head flopped up and down rapidly lime laminated paper; he was nodding.

The smiling man laughed dryly. “Alright, let’s make this interesting then.” Out of nowhere, two chairs and a covered table appeared. When he sat down, a wooden chess set materialized on the table.

“How about a game of chess?” He asked, smiling in a sinister sort of way. “If you win, I’ll unlock the door for you and let you into the house.”

The smiling man purposely didn’t tell the Smashed Man what would happen if he lost.

The smiling man liked to play games. However, he played for keeps; he always took the lives of the losers, usually forcing them to serve him for all eternity of wiping all evidence of their existence from the world (which included the memories of friends and family members). It was rare that he told someone what they were getting into. He was tricky like that; he lied by omission.

The Smashed Man nodded once again, and the smiling man’s smile widened into a grin. The Smashed Man’s body bent in odd ways as he sat down in the seat.

The smiling man was a master at chess—he had been living for hundreds of thousands of years, and thus he had a lot of experience. However, the Smashed man was just as skilled. Although it took a while for him to wrap his frat hands around a piece, he made moves that sometimes surprised the smiling man. They went on for a while; at some points, it seemed like the smiling man would win, and at other times it seemed like the Smashed Man would win. 

Ultimately, though, it was the Smashed Man who came out on top. He knocked over the smiling man’s king, his had shaking from the weight of the piece—it wasn’t heavy, but then again, neither was he.

For a brief moment, the smiling man had a look of surprise; he expected an easy win. But not long after, he corrected himself. He cleared his throat and got up. “I thank you for playing with me. And, as promised, I’ll open the door for you. Have fun.”

He snapped his fingers. The chess setup disappeared and the door to the house opened. The Smashed Man wobbled his way towards the door. He didn’t walk very fast, and he moved like a three-dimensional person would underwater. Once inside, however, he pressed himself against one of the walls and moved along it quickly as if it were a two-dimensional plane. The girls had never left the attic window; they must have been very confused about all of this, considering they couldn’t see the smiling man. He looked up, watching them scream as they realized who was in the house.

The smiling man, still behind the mist, snapped his fingers and created a cushioned folding chair. Once he sat down, it floated upwards until it was level with the attic window.

When he saw the Smashed Man slithering up the attic ladder, he materialized a bowl of popcorn too. Things were about to get interesting.


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14 Reviews

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Reviews: 14

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Tue Jan 17, 2023 11:29 am
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Mika Honeydew wrote a review...



Hello, this is Mika. I was requested to review this short story, so let's go!

First of all, I enjoyed reading this supernatural crossover story! It's really interesting and I was hooked after reading the first few sentences! I like how you describe Smashed man and how weak he seemed, and I think Smashed man and Smiling man are a perfect team. Even though you set your story to supernatural and fanfiction, I think horror or drama fits more! I'd like to correct a mistake I've spotted.


" He looked up, watching the, scream as they realized who was in the house." I think this might be a mistake. Anyways, I love this story and keep it up! Have a good day/night!




GengarIsBestBoy says...


Thank you for the review!



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34 Reviews

Points: 3211
Reviews: 34

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Mon Jan 16, 2023 6:44 pm
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HalfheartedAmateur says...



The simplicity of this scene is quite pleasant and easily digestible despite the content itself and what is actually happening or what will happen. Even though this is a short story crossover, I enjoyed reading the brief yet in-depth details of the creatures, the particulars, and overall storyline of this story. It's followable and accessibly imaginable in ones mind if one chooses to read this short story like that. To me, this short story could be obviously be created into a child's picture book and read as a horror story at night or a "horror/mystery" graphic novel for high schoolers and a comic book for middle schoolers if one pleases to do so.
A simple yet fixable thing you missed though is adding a period at the end of your sentence in the following: As he stood, his body ripped and waved like a flag in the wind(.)
Other than that, the short story is likable, nice, and understandable.
Good job writing this.
- Lil, aka Halfhearted Amateur




GengarIsBestBoy says...


Thqnk you so much for the review!



User avatar
34 Reviews

Points: 3211
Reviews: 34

Donate
Mon Jan 16, 2023 6:44 pm
View Likes
HalfheartedAmateur wrote a review...



The simplicity of this scene is quite pleasant and easily digestible despite the content itself and what is actually happening or what will happen. Even though this is a short story crossover, I enjoyed reading the brief yet in-depth details of the creatures, the particulars, and overall storyline of this story. It's followable and accessibly imaginable in ones mind if one chooses to read this short story like that. To me, this short story could be obviously be created into a child's picture book and read as a horror story at night or a "horror/mystery" graphic novel for high schoolers and a comic book for middle schoolers if one pleases to do so.
A simple yet fixable thing you missed though is adding a period at the end of your sentence in the following: As he stood, his body ripped and waved like a flag in the wind(.)
Other than that, the short story is likable, nice, and understandable.
Good job writing this.
- Lil, aka Halfhearted Amateur





Forgiveness is the fragrance that the violet sheds on the heel that has crushed it.
— Mark Twain