I rarely went out drinking. Never by myself and only If I was invited out by friends or co-workers and having a few, but I never had the goal of getting drunk. On a cold fall night, I hesitated outside a bar I’ve never entered before watching my breath come out in white puffs. I wanted to get drunk that night. Just black out the next few hours no matter the cost. This wasn’t like how I normally felt but my life now didn’t feel normal. After that day it was as if the world shifted into a darker one and I couldn’t return how things were before. A weight of guilt pressed on my back and into the bar.
I sat alone at the wooden bar half listening to the random soccer gamer re-run on the mounted flat screens off to the side. I started off slow with a beer or two, letting myself feel miserable for a time before I drank something heavier. Picking at the damp label on the bottle, the dark feeling that drove me into this place started to overpower the rest of my senses.
Someone sat next to me at the bar and ordered a beer only to find himself a little short. He looked through a wrinkled grey suit jacket for a few seconds muttering that he had more change somewhere. On reflex, I put down a few dollars on the counter to cover his drink and a tip for the bar tender. The man turned his head towards me and gave a half smile as thanks. My head a bit hazy from the drinks already but I sobered up a small bit seeing the man’s face. A shock went down my spine, some sort of instinct telling me to run. I shook is off wondering where the hell that feeling came from. He didn’t look dangerous or the kind of person you should avoid in a dark alley.
His hair grey and pushed back with some strands coming loose making him look to be overdue for a haircut. His face didn’t look old enough to be fully grey. A few wrinkles appeared at the corner of his mouth when he smiled making me think he was only ten years older than myself. His grey suit jacket and scuffed shoes made him appear like an underpaid office worker going to the bar for a drink after a long day.
I brushed off the first jolt of that odd feeling seeing him and got back to drinking. I thought he wouldn’t want to talk and just have his beer then leave. I sensed eyes on me when I downed the last of my drink debating on getting something stronger. That dark feeling came back, slowly drowning out the sounds of the bar. My stomach twisted and hands trembled slightly with images of the news report coming to my mind. The reason why I came wanting to get blacked out making my mouth tasting bitter.
“Having a bad night?”
The voice cut through my feelings causing me to swim back up through them to the present. The man sat backwards on the stool to lean against the bar and place both elbows on the counter. His head titled in my direction and a half smile on his face. His voice sounding as if he smoked a pack every day of his life since he’d been born. His tone so low I was surprised I even heard him.
Here I thought talking to random strangers over a drink was something that only happened in movies or books. I’ve never went out of my way to talk to someone while out in public, that was for sure.
“It’s complicated.” I told him, looking away feeling far too raw.
“You covered my drink. The least I can do is listen.” The stranger offered with another smile that unnerved me.
His body relaxed and yet he gave off the air of a hunter. He wanted to hear the reason why I felt so miserable for his own enjoyment.
“What are you, a therapist?” I shot back with a small sound of displeasure.
“A therapist would cost a lot more than half the price of a single beer.” He replied, the smile turning into something a bit warmer.
I hated the fact I laughed a little at his answer. Talking to a random stranger was safer than getting completely trashed that night. I doubted he would honestly care about anything I said and just wanted to pass some time. I collected myself trying to figure out the best way to word what got me in this downward spiral.
“I worked at a restaurant during the day. I have a night job so those shifts were fine for me. The restaurant normally got busy at dinner time and the tips were better so I tried to pick up a night shift when I wasn’t at my other job. A new girl started a month ago. Abby she… Wasn’t even twenty yet.” I needed to stop talking for a moment. My throat getting tight and the words not wanting to come.
The stranger waited patiently, his bottle of beer long since dismissed for something much more interesting.
“I didn’t know what went on at the night shift. The night manager really acted creepy around all the younger girls they hired until the quit because of him. I found out about it when I took a later shift and saw him push past Abby and touched her on purpose. I threatened to kick his ass if he did that again and he threatened to fire me. I think seeing someone defend her made Abby feel better about opening up about what the guy been doing. She dismissed most of it as accidents though.” I stopped to drink the rest of my bottle hating how this story turned out.
The man leaned back a little, wanting to hear more but worried if he pressed, I would shut down. I knew telling him all of this didn’t mean anything. It wouldn’t change the past or bring back a poor girl that did nothing wrong.
“I went to the owner and brought proof of what went down. He fired me shortly after and I figured out then the other manager is his cousin. A man who already did time for stalking and assault and should never be around younger girls. I… started to get ready to sue them for firing me for no reason. That doesn’t matter now. I should have focused on getting her to a safe place, or drag the cops over before….” I stopped again, my stomach turning.
“Before?” The low tone came, the man leaning down as if we were sharing a secret.
“I heard on the news Abby was found dead, strangled and assaulted. Jesus, she was only nineteen. If I said something to the right person, she would be alive. I can’t stop thinking about that. I should have done so much more for her.”
The man leaned back, mentally chewing on what I told him. I didn’t expect him to say anything comforting. I wanted to punish myself and telling the story hurt. Not enough though. It just wasn’t fair a girl lost her life and the man who did it wasn’t arrested yet. They claim they don’t have enough evidence but by the time they do, he’ll be long gone targeting another girl.
“I wonder if some people go to church because they relate to the whole dying for others sins idea. You can do nothing wrong in life and yet feel guilty for others actions. Here you are blaming yourself for a death and yet you did nothing to cause it. Is your ego so large you think you’re on the same level as the son of God?”
He was still leaning against the counter, a smug look on his face. My face flushed red and rage filled up in my stomach. I was to blame for at least some of what happened and this guy tried to twist it all around. I wanted to punch that look off his face. Seeing my rage, his face only brightened. I realized that I felt something besides self-pity. He wanted me to get angry at someone besides myself.
“You’re an ass, aren’t you?” I asked, my rage simmering down.
“You figured that out fast. Do you smoke?”
He pulled out a package of cigarettes from his suit pocket and I shook my head. I quit a year ago when I couldn’t afford them.
“No, not anymore.” I said wondering if he was just going to leave if I refused to have a smoke with him.
“One won’t hurt yah. Come outside and clear your head.”
A hand landed on my shoulder. For some reason, I listened to him. I never talked to strangers, let alone follow them to the parking lot of a bar to accept a cigarette. The man pulled out a cheap orange disposable lighter that needed a few tries to get it to work. I shuddered in the cold, wrapping my arms under each other to stay warm. The smoke break and the chilly air did clear my head a little. Oddly enough, I felt better after I recovered from hacking up a lung from taking a drag for the first time in over a year.
“It’s not your fault you know. The only one responsible for that girl’s death is the one who took her life. I pressured you into smoking, but you made the choice to come outside. Even if that man had a gun to his head and it was his life or hers, he would still be the one who choose his life.”
I wasn’t expecting that kind of talk from someone who looked as scruffy as he did. I coughed again, the freezing air and smoke hurting my lungs. I thought about what he said. It all made sense, and I knew what he was getting at and yet I couldn’t accept it. If I’d just got her to somewhere safe a girl, I barely knew would be still alive. How could I not be to blame for that? A dangerous glint came to his eyes when he knew I simply couldn’t forgive myself.
“If that man gets arrested, would it make you feel better?” He questioned.
His voice took on a different tone then before. A hint of excitement in the words. He reminded me of a spider watching a fly get closer and closer to the web. The question a lead up to a trap I wasn’t aware of just yet.
“Yes.” I said right away. My head turned feeling the weight of the lie. “No. He’s alive, she’s not. How is that fair at all?” My words sounded thick in my mouth and my shoulders shook from emotion. I played it off as if I was just cold.
I didn’t turn around when the other man took a step closer. He was right behind me; I could smell the smoke of his cigarette mixing in with my own. Alarm bells went off in my head and yet I didn’t leave or move away. Goosebumps rose on my arms my body tense waiting for his voice.
“Would you like to even the score?”
The words came on the back of my neck, and cemented into my brain. My heart twisted over the truth of it all. I did want to make it fair. I wanted the killer dead. I didn’t have any say in the matter though. I wasn’t Abby’s family, just a co-worker for a short while. I had no right answering the stranger at my back. The answer still came.
“Would you… Do that for me?” I asked, carefully looking over my shoulder unaware of what kind of person I just met.
His grey eyes flickered in the darkness. A silver light came but only lasted long enough for me to assume I was seeing things. His mouth turned into a smile and for some reason, I thought his teeth looked too sharp. I never should have spoken to him. Getting drunk and wallowing in my grief would have been a better outcome of the night. Besides the whole moral debate, I risked getting arrested for murder if this man actually went through with my request.
“I’ll take care of this for you. You did cover for my drink. And don’t worry about the police being involved. The way I do things never cause the ones who hire me to get in any legal trouble. But I do ask for you to be present during the confrontation.”
He started to walk around me and searched around his suit jacket looking for something. He handed over a card with his number hand written on it, the scrap of paper feeling heavy in my hand. My brain reeling from the idea of what I agreed to.
“A man’s life for half the cost of a beer…?” I said, mostly to myself.
“People have died for less. That man didn’t think much of that girl’s life, now did he?”
I agreed with that statement. My cigarette already burned out leaving no reason to stay outside. I still had time to clear my head and cancel all of this. I told the other man the name of the manger, although he could have easily found it by checking today’s news. He walked off into the night with a promise to call in the next few days. I wanted to regret what I just put into motion. Abby’s face and thinking of her parent’s needing to bury her removed all feelings of doubt. That man needed to be taken care of before he hurt another person. Turns out, we didn’t stop that from happening.
The call came two nights after I met the man at the bar. I wanted to believe I dreamed up the entire encounter. An unknown number came through on my cell. Right away I knew it wasn’t a scam caller. I let it ring for a moment, letting my thumb hover over the screen.
“You doing anything tonight?” The voice asked, not even bothering to confirm he got the right number.
We didn’t even introduce ourselves yet and we were now planning a murder.
“Tonight?” I question, pulse racing.
“Best to get it done and over with. Unless you have something more important to do. Got a hot date?” He finished the question with a faint laugh.
Still a chance to back out I reminded myself. I shook my head and steeled my resolve. My entire body wanting to run from my phone but my brain forcing to stay still.
“We can do this tonight.” I told him, the words weighing on my shoulders.
“Great, come and pick me up at the bar we met at. I don’t have a car.”
He hung up, leaving me to stew on what I was doing. We were going to kill someone. Did that put me on the same level as the manager? No, I decided. He assaulted Abby then killed her. I felt positive the manager only strangled her when he panicked thinking she might report him to the police. That man did not deserve the freedom he killed a girl for.
My muscles tensed the entire drive to the bar. The sun already set due to how late in the season it become. No one else really out on the roads and that suited me just fine. Every time a car passed by it felt like they knew what my plans were for that night. That a driver would pull over and call the police to stop us. No one but myself and the accomplice knew of the plan though. I saw him waiting outside and didn’t stub out his cigarette when he got into the passenger seat. He rolled down the window to let the smoke out. I hated the idea of my car smelling of smoke, but was too wired to bring it up.
“Should we uh… give each other our names?” I finally asked.
He put a location in his phone and put the volume up for the directions so I knew where to go. His face turned into a smile that didn’t suit someone on the way to do such a grim task.
“You don’t need to give me yours but I go by Graves.” He explained.
I stopped at a red light and looking him over. Grey suit jacket, grey pants, grey hair and eyes. The color reminded me of a gravestone. Rolling my eyes, I focused on the road again.
“Isn’t that a bit on the nose?” I said causing him to laugh a little.
That calmed me enough to keep driving. The GPS directed us to a regular neighborhood. One a bit more run down than other but still a place where people can raise their kids. The grass on each lawn a different length showing no HOA put up shop here. I parked across the street from the address given. All the blood rushing from my limbs to my head thinking how we were going to do this. Were we going to what? Break in? Shoot him? Stab him? Would it be bloody? The lights were on so we needed to wait until the ones inside went to sleep. What if he lived with someone else? I didn’t get a chance to ask any of these questions. Graves got out of the car and started to walk right over to the house.
“Hey, wait!” I called after him.
He already reached the front door by the time I got halfway across the road. He knocked and patiently waited. Really? He was just going to knock? An older women opened the door and my heart sank. We had the wrong house, I knew it. We needed to get the hell out of there. To my horror, he pushed past her, calling out the manager’s name. This already turned into a huge mess. The women didn’t notice me and more worried about the strange man inside her house. I stopped at the open doorway as if an invisible force field kept me out. I pushed past it, entire body itching.
“Graves, what the hell are you doing?” I questioned but my voice lacked any force.
I saw the women and wanted to go over to her to explain I was going to drag the intruder the hell out of her house. A sight caused me to freeze. Graves suddenly started to run through the open doorway, a second person easily heard running towards the back door. In under a minute, he came back dragging my old night manager into the living room by his shirt collar.
The women started to scream, begging us to leave and demanded to know what we wanted with her son. I couldn’t answer her. I never imagined another person getting dragged into all of this and felt lost. There was no way I could tell her we arrived to kill her son. But Graves could say those words.
“This man killed an innocent little girl so we decided he shouldn’t be able to live anymore.” He answered in such a calm voice it caused my blood to turn to ice water.
The mother threw herself on the manager, making Grave’s to let go of his shirt. Neither of them tried to run as she sobbed, holding her adult son.
“Don’t! He’s the only thing I have left of my husband! I can’t lose them both!” She begged in a heavy voice.
I honestly didn’t care about that. This man should be in prison and because he wasn’t a girl died. She wasn’t entitled to keeping her child when that meant another set of parents needed to bury theirs.
“She was a little slut that-”
Graves didn’t let the man finish his sentence. He kicked out his foot, smashing the manager’s nose with his heel. Blood sprayed and poured down his face. The nose broken from the kick from the looks of things. The next few moments went by so fast none of us really had a chance to process it. The manager grabbed a gun that he hidden in the waistband of his sweatpants. His mother saw the weapon and threw herself into a struggling match trying to get it away. She didn’t want to watch her son kill anyone, or watch someone hurt her little boy. I took two steps forwards ready to end this fight and just leave. All noise disappeared to be replaced by one muffled pop between the two of them.
We all became as still as statues. Graves staring down, his grey eyes wide in an unreadable emotion. The mother fell to the side and I ran over to her, frantic. Blood soaked through her dress from a small point in her chest. My hands flying to the spot, putting pressure on it in a vain attempt to save her life. Warm blood seeped through my fingers making them feel slick and sticky at the same time. I cried, begging for someone to call for help. The others in the room not moving in the slightest.
Graves broke first. A small snicker of a laugh came, then another. Soon he bent over to let out a terrible wheezing laugh. I hated him in the moment for that. I wanted to avenge Abby, not get another innocent person killed. His name clicked and I realized he really picked something incredibly accurate for his gruesome hobby.
His laughing fit made the manager snap. He turned the weapon on Graves, getting one shot off. The man turned into a blur of grey. Suddenly he was on the ground behind the man with the gun, holding his wrists by wrapping his arms around the other man. I watched Graves force the manager to bring barrel of the gun ever closer to under his own chin. The manager struggled but Graves didn’t even look as if he out that much strength into forcing the man’s arms back. My brain caught up too slowly. I shouted for him to stop in the same moment the gun went off a second time.
Graves stood up, wrinkles appearing at the corners of his eyes from a wide smile. Two dead because of me. I never should have spoken to this man.
“She’s dead. Let’s go.” Graves said in a soft voice that made my skin crawl.
I looked down at the mother, he eyes still open but nothing behind them. I couldn’t move my legs. Nothing happened when I told myself to stand up. The other man grabbed a hold of my upper arm and forcefully made me stand. Step by step, we let the house. I faintly wondered why no one called the police yet or came to see what happened due to all the noise. I was shoved into my passenger seat, Graves starting the car to leave behind the crime scene.
We drove for an unknown amount of time. My brain not processes anything because of shock. I got dragged out of the car again and into a bathroom. I finally realized he parked at a truck stop and wanted me to use the bathroom sink to wash the blood of my hands. Seeing the dark color staining my hands I nearly got sick. I hurried over to the line of sinks and didn’t bother with soap. I just let the hot water run over my hands, scrubbing with tears coming to my eyes.
It stayed at the sink for a while. Using as much soap as I could and yet the blood stuck. My hands became raw from scrubbing but I didn’t stop. I let out a sound of fear when Graves stood behind to wrap his hands around mine. He forced them under the water, keeping them still. He also turned the temperature down so I stopped burning the layers of skin off of them.
“Don’t burn yourself. Let them soak. Blood gets under your nails and stays for a while.”
His voice right beside my ear making my body shake. Having him like this looked so similar to how he forced the manager to shoot himself. The embrace held a dark undertone instead of comforting. My eyes went to the mirror and nearly fainted seeing a shadow came over his face. His pupils shining a bright white in the dark. A light flickered off in the bathroom, then another. The room turned pitch black with only two pin pricks of white lights coming from his eyes. A hot breath came on my neck. I jerked back my hands only to have him interlace his fingers through my own making them stay under the running water. My heart stopped for a second when another set of eyes appeared in the mirror. Then another more of those pin pricks of lights swam out through the dark. I heard the sounds of the faces appearing at my back but could only see those lights. Each head darting back and forth, twisting into each other. Soft sounds of different animals echoed through the small bathroom almost overpowering the running water.
“I haven’t eaten a good meal in sometime. Would be so kind as to spare-”
Graves voice changed. It sounded deeper and rough, almost inhuman. He thankfully didn’t get a chance to finish the question. A trucker opened the bathroom door, the lights coming back on the moment the other person stepped inside. Graves returning to a human form, and his body tensed when we were caught in such an odd position. Through my fear I realized the other man was still holding my hands from behind. That made the whole situation look very different to the newcomer.
“Uhh, I can leave if you guys want to… Finish what you’re doing.” The trucker offered in an embarrassed drawl.
“We were just leaving.” The monster of the man said almost sounding embarrassed.
He grabbed me around my waist so we could flee the bathroom and back to my car. I didn’t get inside, just leaned against it. Slowly falling down the side and to the ground. Wet hands starting to freeze in the night air. The sensation giving me something else to focused on.
“Sorry for that little moment. I really haven’t eaten much in a bit. Lost control for a second.” Graves apologized and sat on the curb nearby.
He pulled out a smoke but his lighter gave out on him. He used a set of matches he picked up from some hotel or casino. I should have got the hell out of there but the night drained my strength.
“That woman is dead. I brought you there. I killed her.” I said finally pushing the words out.
“Her son bought the gun. Grabbed it. Kept his finger on the trigger. Killed a girl that caused you to be upset enough to bring me along. He’s more at fault than anyone.” He offered.
“Then why can’t I forgive myself?! Why don’t I feel better at all knowing he won’t hurt anyone else! Why am I…”
My words faded and I broke out into tears. Hard sobbing that hurt my chest. The break down so heavy and hard it only lasted a few minutes. My body couldn’t keep up crying at that pace. The other man didn’t say anything or look disgusted by my sudden break down. He lit another cigarette off his nearly finished one. Walking over, he bent low to place the one end so close to my lips he nearly forced it in my mouth.
“You’re a good person. And I’m not. I like watching people like you go through shit like this. If you’re going to hate anyone, hate me for even offering to kill that man in the first place.”
I accepted the smoke, hurting my lungs so soon after I nearly busted a rib from sobbing. I wanted to hate Graves but he made it very hard when he sounded so damn gentle. He straightened up and I punched his leg for giving so many mixed signals. He took the hit but skittered away before I could get him again.
“Now what?” I asked feeling exhausted.
“I leave. You never seen me again. You’ll never be legally reasonable for their deaths and you’ll blame yourself over what happened for the rest of your left.” He explained with a shrug.
I stared at him, trying to figure him out. He wasn’t human, that was for certain. I oddly accepted that idea right away. It was natural for a monster to kill and hurt people without a second thought or reason and yet a feeling nagged in the back of my mind. He was a monster. No human could ever see him as anything but that. The ash on my cigarette dropped on my pants and I let a small ember slightly burn my jeans. The only way Graves made connections was in a negative way. I would never really be able to forget about this night, and deep down he wanted that. Maybe more than he wanted to have fun watching others die or suffer by his own hands.
“You’re a pretty lonely person, aren’t you?” I asked.
My words caught him off guard. I don’t think anyone ever asked him such a thing before. An expression came over his face that didn’t suit him in the slightest confirming my theory. He shoved his hands deep into his pants pockets trying to thinking of a way to dispute what I said.
“I need to get going. It’s not best if I hang around you this hungry. I might just take a bite and that won’t do at all.”
I didn’t argue over him leaving. He mentioned he didn’t have a car but I knew he would have no problem getting to wherever he needed to be next. I debated on calling the cops, then decided against it. If he wasn’t human, he must have a way to sway the police in the way he wants. No, Graves would keep travelling around offering the same deal to people like me.
If for some reason you come across him, you really need to keep his name in mind. Taking revenge always ends up with collateral damages. Even if that mother didn’t die that night, she would have lost someone she loved. Death ripples outwards. Regardless if the person is loved or not, death changes the world in ways you might not understand. You just need to decide if you’re able to deal with the unforeseen aftermath of your actions.