《Heathens in Us (First Draft)》Demons
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I feel like total shit this morning. I probably slept somewhere along the lines of two hours. The day breaking between the drapes is enough to get me off the couch and onto my study. I haven’t sat in this rickety chair since I moved into the place. I spent the whole night replaying the phone call. Either someone knows way too much about my life. Or these bastards trying to off me are starting to taunt me. Either way the only thing that matters is that I’m going to find these fuckers. I heard them last night. Not just a feeling but an actual voice. Maybe they’re even getting nervous. Even if these things are real. Even if I can prove it. What do I do then? Do we need a priest? An exorcist. Maybe we can kill them ourselves. Seems like the voice on the phone knows something about it. Maybe they took someone as some kind of vessel. But why call me? Millions of people in the city and they call me. Hmm… Based on what they were saying, it seems like they know about me and Amanda. So it probably has to do with the domestic murders lately. Let’s see. There’s the one with the two faced man. And the one just before Shaw left. They both had some similarity. Double murder suicide and done as an act of passion. We know from Two Face that he doesn’t remember actually doing it. Just standing over his wife’s corpse. But I don’t get it. How could an act of passion have anything to do with this voice? Unless there’s something I missed. The houses were strangely clean. Like they had a maid clean the place just before. But I doubt they could afford it. Just two lower-middle class households wouldn’t spend that much money. I think the first place to look is at those cases and make sure I didn’t miss anything. I’m going to have to do what I can here so that the captain doesn’t know I’m doing work.
I’m starting to feel my stomach ache. I don’t think I’ve had anything other than that sandwich since yesterday. Looks like I’ll have to join the land of the living to go grab a slice down the road. The weather is much nicer today. Putting on my coat was rather unnecessary with the beating sun warming my back. I can smell the melted cheese in the air as I turn the corner.
“Hanes! Haven’t seen you in a while. Figured you were dead.” Says Hank from the pizzeria.
“You wish Hank. You’d go out of business without me.” I reply, trying to faint any excitement.
He’s a good guy. Works fifteen hour shifts seven days a week just to feed his wife and three kids.
“The usual?” He asks while already throwing the slices into the steaming hot oven.
“Ordered the same thing every time I’ve come in. Two slices of cheese and a bottle of coke.”
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“A man who knows what he likes! I get it!”
Sometimes I feel like Hank and Ashe are cut from the same overly amused cloth.
“Listen Hanes, I’ve been having some trouble with some vandals lately. I made a police report but they keep messing up my sign and throwing bricks through the window. Now I know you're some hot shot who only deals with these big important cases. But any chance you can do a little digging? You know, maybe scare them a little?”
I grab the piping hot slices on a paper plate which has become translucent from the grease and look at him. Guess I’m off work for a week. I could look into it.
“What do you know?” I ask.
“It usually happens at night but I know those Antony brothers have something to do with it. They come every single day. Screaming and cursing and talking about doing no good.”
“I’ll look into it.”
“I knew I could count on you.” He says waving that finger at me.
Antony brothers huh? Ya I’ve noticed them marking up the apartment a couple times. Does seem to be a likely suspect. After dark I’ll go take a look at their usual hiding spots.
The rest of the day yields very little. All I know for sure is that I’m going to have to play this one close to the chest. The fact that they knew about Shaw on the same day as me is really messing with my head. How many of these things are there? The sun starts to go down and I decide to grab a drink. Luckily I bought a couple bottles of whisky last week so I don’t have to get out of the house. Fridge is broken again so I guess I’m drinking neat tonight. Despite the first couple dry sip, the drink is going down smooth tonight. Next thing I know I was half a bottle in and taking a leak on the quarter hour.
“Fuck!”
I forgot about those kids! I got so distracted by actually having a night in that I didn’t go look for the kids. Maybe I’ll just go for a walk. It’s not too late after all. It’s getting a little chill out so I decided to grab my coat on the way out and made sure to take a glass for the road. Those kids live a couple blocks down so I’ll start there. It’s pretty quiet tonight. I can hear my footsteps echoing throughout the street. Seemed like the calm before the storm. Low and behold the kids are sitting on their porch of a shithole worse than my apartment.
“Hey old man. What are you doing out late? You lost?” Says the oldest.
So much for keeping a low profile.
“Huh… me?” I ask, trying to seem surprised.
“Are you fucking stupid. Who else would I be talking to?” He says getting up and making his way towards me.
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“No. I’m not lost. Just going for a little walk is all.”
“You’re in the wrong neighborhood for that old man.”
I can see the youngest get up to back up his brother. Some other kid is still sitting there smoking a joint.
“Well I live here so I don’t know where else I’d take a walk.”
“I think you need to learn that it's dangerous to go out at night.” He says inching that little bit closer. At this point I can smell the cheap beer off his breath. The kid can’t be much older than eighteen from the looks of it. Just trying to act tough in front of his friends.
“Listen. I’m just passing by. I’d prefer not to make something of this.”
First warning.
“That’s a pretty nice glass you’ve got there. Looks like you need some decent cash to get one of those.” He says not slowly bringing his hand to his right pocket.
His posture is very compared to the other two. The back one seems indifferent and his brother has shortened his steps every couple of feet.
“Wait a second. I think I've seen you before.” I say. “You are those kids who always do damage to that poor guy who owns the pizzeria a couple blocks up the street! You, I've seen you before. I’m glad I got a better look at you.”
Second warning.
“You can prove anything old man. Who the fuck are you anyways.” He says starting to get defensive.
“Listen kid. Just admit you did it and I’ll let this slide.”
Last warning.
He starts posturing back a little and takes a look at his brother who now is looking pretty damn scared.
“Ya. We did. And now we are going to rob an old man.” He says finally taking a knife out of his pocket.
I take a step back to stay out of range of a quick swipe and throw my hands in the air.
“Wait!” I yell. “Just let me put my glass down and I’ll grab my wallet.”
I don’t want it to get broken. I put it down and square up with him again. There’s a little change in his posture. His shoulders are cocked forward. Any lunge from there will be pretty easy to read. Knife is in the right hand and his elbow is in towards the middle of the chest. Stabbing motion is highly probable. I reach into my pocket and pull out my wallet. I unfold the flap with the opening facing them so they can see my empty wallet.
Enraged he takes a stutter step and lunges forward at me. I take a step to my right so that I can deflect the blade to the left using the leather of the wallet as a shield. I’m bleeding for this piece of shit. As he overextends his weight is unbalanced so I grab his right arm and swing my right leg behind his forward leg. At this point he’s fucked. A quick sweep of the leg and he’s on his back. That’s when I feel it. The urge. He’s done. The moment he hits the ground once he has the wind knocked out of him. But I want more. As he falls I feel my right arm reach for his neck. Something telling me to push down. I have to crush him against the concrete slab so deep that I crush his windpipe. I want to do it. More than anything at the moment. I know better. He’s just a kid who drew the short straw in life and got stuck in this hell hole like the rest of us. But I want to hurt him. Just the thought is making my blood course. That old adrenaline I was so used to in the past. That for just a moment. There is no pain. I feel his spine hit the ground first with a bone shattering crunch. He gasps as his lungs squeeze out what oxygen is left in them. I feel his throat compress in my hand. My fingertips digging into the side of his neck. For that moment. I felt good. Better than I have in years.
Until.
Until I saw the fear in his eyes. A glistening ember of hope fading away as I continue to push. This feeling is wrong. Am I ready to kill a child for a couple broken windows? Are these creatures even the villains here? Or are they here to watch us at our worst like some zoo animal? My hand gives way. The bloodcurdling scream of his younger brother echoes through the empty streets. As I remove my hand I can see the indent I made on his neck. I stand over him and watch him fear the sight of me. A sheer terror that I’ve seen just before death.
And I walk away. Grabbing my glass on the way I just left. His gasps continue as I continue to walk back to my apartment. I feel my hand tingling. My heart races all the way to my fingertips. I try to shake it off but it remains all the way up to my room. I sit at my desk and stare at my hand, twitching with excitement. Am I the creature? Last time I couldn't even remember it. But this time…I knew exactly what I was doing. I need to find that voice. I need answers. I need to know what these creatures are.
I need to know what’s happening to me.
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