Now Mr. Blueman was the one screaming. It was trying to get away, but old Mo’ just kept sucking and sucking, breathing in and out as hard as he could get his dead lungs pumping, until he was at last actually drawing the “flesh” of the blue man into his mouth. Sucking and sucking and sucking.

It was unbelievable. I got to my feet, dripping blood and watched awestruck as inch by inch, Mr. Blue disappeared into the ghoul. And after a minute it was done. No more Mr. Blueman. It was just me and the ghoul.

I shook my head and stepped over to him. I think everything was broken, but I was too happy and stunned to pay attention.

“Are there any other things you can do you’d like to tell me about?” I laughed.

Mo’Lock seemed disoriented. He turned like he was lost and then looked at me with utter surprise. “Where am I?” he asked.

I laughed. “You’re here . . . in the lab . . . with me. Hey, Mo’Lock, you okay?”

The ghoul’s face twisted. “And who are you, sir?” he said, and it wasn’t Mo’Lock’s voice. It was higher pitched, and kind of snooty.

“It’s me, Cal. What’s the matter, Mo’Lock?” I said.

I reached out for his arm.

He jerked it away. “Unhand me! And what is this “Mo’Lock”? My name is Michael Thomas Locke! And I want you to tell me where I am. And where are my wife and children?”

Oh god, no.

“Don’t you know who I am, Mo’?”

“No, I should say not.”

I felt a ball growing in my throat as I began to understand what was happening. “What year is it, Mr. Locke?” I asked, barely whispering.

He was indignant. “What kind of question is that? It’s 1919!”

I walked away. I didn’t know what else to do. I thought about shooting him, maybe freeing the soul from his body, but what if it just killed him? I couldn’t take that chance.

Behind me, Michael Thomas Locke was yelling. I didn’t listen. I didn’t care. Mo’Lock was gone. He got a soul back and now he was his former self again. I walked out of the place and tears kept coming.

What’d he have to go and do a thing like that for? Crazy fucking ghoul.

To save my lame-ass life, that’s why.

I didn’t go to the hospital. Fuck that. I went back to the house and drank until I could barely see, let alone stand or speak. I tried not to think about Mo’Lock, and the fact that he was gone forever. Christ, he was a fuckin’ ghoul, a spook. I’m supposed to be killing them. Not forming close personal bonds, right? I mean, he wasn’t even human. Well, now he was. I wondered if he liked it.