The boy’s eyes cooled and he came over to me. He saw the cuff, then without asking checked the dead killer’s pockets and came out with the keys. He unlocked the cuffs. My hands came free.

I didn’t or rather, couldn’t get up right away so I sat there waiting for the feeling to come back in my hands while the boy untied his mother.

And that was that. Case fucking closed.

I stuck around long enough to make sure the remains of the Hughes family were okay. I covered the father’s body and walked them out front where they wouldn’t have to look at the bodies.

Then I cleared the cash register for my pay. I made forty-six dollars and twenty-seven cents. It would barely cover gas.

I didn’t stick around for the cops. What good would it do? The freak was dead. The only question remaining was how the fuck did this psycho family live off the main highway all these years without getting checked out?

Like I said, cops are retarded. They don’t see what’s right in front of them because they don’t want to believe how bad things can get.

It’s a big, dark, scary world out there as it is. Can you imagine what it would be like if they believed in monsters? You’d think they’d know. Some of the worst monsters out there are human.

The Dead Son

The Dead Son

It was a Tuesday, I think. It was raining in Los Angeles. Heavy rain that brought the dry city to its knees. It was late in the afternoon when I woke up on the can. It wasn’t going to be an easy dismount. My legs were asleep, my back was sore, and I had one hell of a hangover rattling around in my brain.

My cellphone was in my pocket around my ankles and it was ringing. That must have been what woke me up. I fumbled for the phone and answered.

“What?”

On the other end I heard the grumbling voice of the ghoul, Mo’Lock. “Cal, are you okay? You’ve been in there all night.”

“I’m fine. I was sleeping,” I said. “Where are you?”

“In the living room.”

Fucking ghoul.

“What do you want?”

“There are some people here to see you?”

“Here? Now? Goddammit. Tell them I’ll be right out.”

Not sure what I did the night before but whatever it was fucked me up. Every limb hurt. My teeth hurt. I got up off the crapper and did my best to clean up before leaving the bathroom.

In the living room, Mo’Lock stood by the couch. On the couch were a man and a woman I’d say were in their fifties. They sat close, huddling against one another. Whatever was up with them, they were plenty spooked.