Tain and I walked through the front door of the apartment. “Rob we’re home!”

I barely got it out of my mouth when a bucket of water fell on my head.

“Ah hahahahaha,” laughed Rob.

Tain started barking furiously and tried to attack the little hobgoblin.

“What the heck dude?”

“Just a prank Sean,” said Rob, hovering in the air and taunting Tain. “Don’t be such a wet blanket.” Then he laughed some more.

I wiped the water from my face and couldn’t help but smile a little bit. It had been a while since I had gotten mischievous myself. “Very funny. Rob, this is my dog Tain. Sit boy!”

Tain obeyed immediately, as did Rob who sat down in the air.

“Not you,” I said to the hob. “Wipe this mess up.”

Rob saluted me. “Right away sir.” He whisked over to the paper towel dispenser and began cleaning up the floor.

I went to the bathroom to dry off and reapply a new bandage on my shoulder. While I was doing that Rob hovered into the room followed by Tain who kept growling at him.

“What next boss?” said Rob.

“We’re going duck hunting,” I said.

“Yay! Nintendo!” said Rob.

“No. Bigger bird.”

“Sesame Street?”

I shook my head. “Let’s get in the car and I’ll tell you.”

---

Putting two-n-two together, I noticed that my ability to sense monsters now coincided with the Keening. Meaning my new cursed scar seemed to hurt more the closer I got to mythical beasts.

It didn’t take long for my Keening to burn once we were on the west side of town. I felt the same sensation I felt the night before at the chiropractor’s office. But I had to make abrupt turns every few blocks as the monster was on the move.

The wind blew through my open windows. I turned down street after street, until finally I felt like we were right under it. Tain began growling and I knew I was right.

We pulled into a long alley that snaked behind some small-time businesses downtown across several blocks. Grime and dirt stained the stone walls and whatever windows were visible on the back of the buildings were barred. Graffiti filled in the empty spaces between the grime so that nothing was left clean.

I slowed the car down long enough to hear someone screaming over the ‘Stang engine. I floored it, barreling down the alley, only slowing down for the cross streets so I didn’t plow into someone.

By the time we got there the screaming had stopped. We got out of the car stepping over trash that littered every inch and cranny. A large puddle dripped down a drain through a broken grate. But the blood was most striking. A scarlet splatter next to a garbage bin ran down the wall, dripping onto the asphalt.

I bent down to get a closer look and Tain was already sniffing around it. It was thick enough that I could see my own reflection in it. I felt the warmth drain from my face and my lips quivered a little bit.

“Yuck.”

“I don’t know,” said Rob, “I like my alleys nice and bloody.”

Something lay just at the edge of the puddle. I reached down and picked up a wet large feather, black and frayed. But I knew instantly that it came from the Sluagh. My lips curled back and I let the soaked feather flutter to the ground.

I rose slowly clenching my jaw and my fists. I couldn’t let this happen again. Which way did it go? I thought about where I was in Vallejo in relation to the chiropractor’s office where I’d first seen the monster. I spun around so that I faced the same direction that the bird had flown last time when it had flown west into the Highway 37 marshes. Tain moved several steps that direction ahead of me down the alleyway and sure enough, he spotted small drops of blood amidst the speckled colors of the asphalt. I picked up the pace stepping quicker and we jogged to the end of the alley until I came out from between the buildings and onto the sidewalk. Sure enough more blood drops.

“Do you think the person was eaten?” asked Rob. He resumed his orange tabby cat form.

“I don’t think so. Based on my research it captures more than it kills. The thing always flies back West. It must have a haven in the marshes. And apparently it took somebody with it.”

Tain sniffed at a jacket lying in the gutter across the street. I crossed quickly and picked up the torn jacket examining it. Talons had slashed clean through the jacket, tears that looked awfully similar to my own torn clothing. If the person wasn’t dead when they left this alley they were probably dead now. I knew that the human body could lose gallons of blood before it was fatal, but then to be carried in those sharp talons over streets of asphalt, sidewalks of cement and past the Mare Island shipyard, there is almost no chance they’d survive.

Could’ve been me that died. Or Rob, if I did not intervene. An image came to my head of a mama bird bringing a worm back to the nest to feed the young chicks. My stomach churned and I shuddered. I hope there weren’t little Sluaghs learning how to fly. But I shook my head. Don’t freak out, Sean. Until you found proof only assume there was one. No sense stressing about extra monsters. I had to bring this thing down, clip its wings.

“Wait,” I said to Rob and Tain. “It’s close. I feel it again.”

We all got back to my car and I fired up the engine. The Mustang roared to life and we took off down the street following the Sluagh.

“I don’t want to face it again,” whimpered Rob. “It feels so wrong Sean. You can’t sense it like I do.”

I was afraid too. “There’s going to be people in trouble, lives at stake,” I said. But the words didn’t calm my fear. Instead I turned up the music again and let Hatebreed pump me up. The Sluagh flew away from us faster yet and I mashed on the gas pedal.