I live in a hunting town so small I swear I’ve been in Discord servers with more people. I can’t afford to move even if I sold the home I grew up in. At least I have a stable internet connection. I earn my living by being a freelance video editor. I sometimes did thumbnails or podcast editing. If you come across one of those life hack videos with recycled clips of the worst crafts ever, it’s possible I edited it or a similar video. Sorry about that.
I went to bed late one night crunching to finish work. I woke up to the sound of glass breaking and a car taking off. I ran downstairs to see the damage. A rock had been tossed through the front window and thankfully only broke a single panel. I charged outside trying to see the car but was too late. It already turned into the long road and was hidden behind the trees that line my driveway. I lived too far from a neighbor to witness the incident. Besides the rock, they also tossed a few dead squirrels on my porch. Great. Just the way I wanted wake up.
I grabbed gloves and a trash bag to clean up. I buried the dead animals after sweeping up the glass. I didn’t have anything to cover the window so I washed my hands and got my keys to drive into town. I could have reported this to the sheriff but I had no faith in the local police. Unless a person was caught red-handed, they never arrested anyone. I already knew who the culprit could be. For most of my life, two men have pestered my family.
When I was six, I played in the woods very often with my best friend. One day we saw dark storm clouds rolling in and decided to walk back home. I heard a sound I thought to be thunder. I turned to my friend just in time to see his body fall to the ground, his face gone. To my horror, he’d been shot with a hunting rifle. Something meant to take down a bear hit him leaving the poor kid no chance. I ran down the path trying to get help and saw the back of a person I recognized. Harry Fisher just down the hiking trail. He didn’t turn or come to see what was wrong when I screamed for help. He just kept going and disappeared into the woods. I knew it was him from his stupid bucket hat with a bright orange fishing lure hanging from the brim. I didn’t even know if his last name was Fisher, or if people started to call him that because he was always fishing.
I told the sheriff what happened and Harry denied being in the woods. They said I was in shock from seeing my best friend get shot and got confused. I know I didn’t imagine the man and was distraught trying to figure out why he would lie about such a thing. Being a child, the answer didn’t come right away. Harry refused the fact he was in the woods because either he shot my friend by accident while out hunting, or knew who did.
Since then, I’ve kept my eyes on him and his friend Hank Smith believing if Harry didn’t fire the killing bullet, then Hank did. If they did anything even slightly illegal, I reported it to the sheriff which rightfully pissed them off. Any out-of-season hunting or trespassing cost them a fine. They always knew I was the one leaving the tips that got them in court pleading speeding tickets and other minor cases. After I became a teenager, the harassment started. Broken windows, spray-painted threats, or fireworks set off on our porch that nearly started a fire at one point. It was a bit sad that two full-grown men were pulling that sort of prank on someone so much younger.
It troubled my mother but she didn’t get any support due to her darker skin. The town didn’t outright act hostile towards her for not looking the way the rest of them did, but none of them helped her either. We were on our own. After she died, I almost felt thankful she no longer needed to deal with double-checking the locks or fretting over the cost of repairing windows.
I dropped into the corner store to buy some snacks for later that night. The town recently got a fancy 7-11 that replaced the old corner store. It had the same people employed and a better selection of items so no one made a fuss about the newer store. I saw Harry’s truck parked outside. I stopped by it, listening to the engine pop. I should either wait for him to leave or go to the grocery store. Bumping into him meant a fight. The store had cameras inside and a smile came to my face when I thought he might be arrested for a night if I could get him to punch me while being recorded. I would gladly take a hit to piss him off.
There weren’t many people inside. The clerk straightened up, seeing me walk inside knowing both Harry and Hank were in the back getting drinks. He knew about our past and waited for something to happen. I didn’t even say anything to them. I stood by the chip display debating on which kind I wanted. When I picked up a bag, it was yanked from my hand.
“I’m feeling some cool ranch chips, you don’t mind me buying these do you?” Hank said, showing off his tobacco stain teeth.
He hated cool ranch. I knew it and grabbed those chips on purpose. I spotted some grey fur on his jacket that matched the dead animals I buried a short while beforehand.
“Go right ahead. They would go well with all the squirrels you’ve been hunting. Did you keep some for stew, or give away all of them?” I asked, my voice clearly implying what I meant.
“You know what boy; I think it’s about time you move out of this town. No one wants you.” Harry added in, the lure on his stupid hat moving when he spoke.
“If I don’t, are you going to do something about it?” I said sounding braver than I felt.
His hand shot up and I flinched expecting it to come down on my face. Another hand came out to stop him. It took me a few seconds to realize who just walked over to put himself between me and the two men. I hadn’t seen him in years and thought he wouldn’t come back this way.
“Are these rednecks still bothering you Kiddo?” My rescuer asked and refused to let go of Harry’s arm.
His name was Graves. He wore the same grey suit jacket and pants I saw him in last when I was a teenager. He and my mother were friends and she told me to go out of my way to help him due to a debt she had with him, but never elaborated on. He knew about my trouble with these two and would have stepped in to help when I was younger if I ever asked, which I didn’t. Harry pulled at his arm, clearly struggling while Graves looked as if he put no effort into holding the other man still.
“A little bit. But I think they were just on their way out.” I said not wanting this to go further.
Graves let go of Harry and Hank shoved the chips against my chest causing the bag to explode open. They both ran off with their tails between their legs and with some vague threats of what would happen if they saw us again. I ignored them and started to clean up the chips the best I could. The clerk came out with a broom and dustpan to finish the cleanup job. I grabbed a few more snacks and paid for the ruined bag.
“You should do something about those two.” My old friend said, hands in his pocket and hunched over the prewrapped sandwiches.
“Not much I can do besides move. I can’t afford that right now, if ever, if house prices keep going up.” I said to him.
He didn’t change at all in ten years. His hair was still grey and the same crow’s feet at the corner of his eyes when he smiled. His voice rough and I suspected constantly smoking was the cause. He straightened up and asked for a pack of cigarettes instead of something to eat. He pulled out some change to count for the smokes so I pushed him aside and paid for it. I also made him pick out some sandwiches with something to drink. Something about him did change since the last time we met. He looked tired. More worn out than normal. Which was impressive considering he always looked like he hadn’t slept for two days.
The moment we walked outside he lit a smoke and tore into a sandwich. That worried me. I knew he traveled a lot for work but wasn’t aware of what his job was. I didn’t know much about Graves besides my mother trusted him.
“Thanks for helping. Where are you staying? The Lodge?” I questioned.
He looked a bit reluctant to answer. The Lodge was a hunting hotel made to look as much like a large log cabin as possible. It brought in enough tourists and hunters to keep stores in town afloat so most people respected the place.
“I don’t like all those stuffed animal heads watching me. No, I’m at the motel off the highway. Just walked to town over looking for something to do.” He replied, already finished off a sandwich and going for another.
When did he eat last? And walked over? Where was his car?
“The motel has bed bugs. Come on, you can stay at my place. I have the room.” I told him and headed towards my car, which had been freshly scratched down the side.
Great. At least they didn’t knock my mirrors off this time.
“Oh, Mr. Pike, inviting a strange man over to your place? What would your mother say?” Graves teased.
He always called me by my last name, or by some cute nickname. Never by my first name. The name my father passed down. I was fine with that.
“She liked and trusted you.” I said, my chest tightening a little.
His hand froze, an egg salad sandwich partly unwrapped in his hand, and a cigarette burning between two fingers. He looked like he just stepped on a land mine. I wondered how he felt about my mother. I suspect they had a thing after my father died but never proved it. I think at the very least, he liked her.
“Trusted?” He asked slowly, putting it together.
“She died five years ago. Breast cancer. It was quick.” I told him keeping my tone even.
His face fell hating the fact he brought the topic up. He’d been gone for so long that I didn’t blame him for not knowing. And I almost regretted saying it. I could have pretended she was still around for the time he stayed here. For five years after she died, someone kept her alive in their mind.
“Shit, Kiddo sorry I-”
“It’s fine. Now come on. I’ll make you a real meal.”
He silently followed, getting into the passenger seat, rolling down the window to let the smoke out. I didn’t tell him to put out his cigarette or stop him from changing the radio channel. We may have been away from each other for years but it didn’t feel like it. Having him around felt natural as if he never left.
I didn’t have much to cook so I made a slapped-together meatloaf. I gave my guest a new set of clothes so I could take his suit jacket and pants to the dry cleaner’s while our dinner cooked. He protested but they needed to be cleaned. The smell of smoke and an Earthy scent of dirt clung to the fabric. He lost the fight and I gathered his clothing ready to go. After he got changed, he wanted to watch TV but didn’t know how any of the streaming services worked. I put on a random crime series and told him what button to hit to keep watching. I did my quick errand and kept an eye out for Harry’s truck. I knew those two didn’t like Graves but never tried to mess with him.
I got home to find my old friend passed out on the couch. I let him sleep so I could get some work done before the meatloaf finished cooking. I only woke him up to eat and let him go back to the couch to watch half an episode. He was out again until dark. When I heard him wake up and start looking for leftovers, I decided I wanted a break. I found him on the porch smoking. I sat on the wooden step next to him, handing over a beer.
The porch light flickered when a large bug slammed against it. I kept forgetting to get a bug zapper. I wasn’t outside very often so it wasn’t a big deal to be without. Graves gave me a disapproving look watching me open a beer of my own.
“Aren’t you still like, sixteen or something?” His smile made me a bit grumpy.
“I don’t look that young! I’m almost thirty!”
I sounded offended. But he was right about me looking younger. My baby face pissed me off when someone had the nerve to bring it up. It made it hard for anyone to take me seriously.
“What have you been up to? Not too many jobs around here to pick from.” Graves offered and peeled at the beer bottle label.
“I edit videos. I can do it online. It covers my costs and it’s not that hard of a job.” I said only to get a confused face as a response.
He looked at me, then towards town trying to put a few things together. When he spoke again it became clear why he looked so confused.
“Like, movies? You can do that Hollywood stuff out here?” His voice sounded a bit impressed by his honest mistake about what I do for work.
I laughed, unable to help it. I forgot he was older and bad with any kind of technology. I doubted he watched videos on his phone or even had a Facebook account to see lame memes. He waited until I finished laughing and corrected him. I explained the whole Youtube thing and he silently listened. I don’t think I’ve talked to someone this much in a while. With my mother gone and no friends in town I didn’t have a reason to just talk. I wanted to offer to let him stay for as long as he wanted but held back. I was sure he would leave in a day or so.
Graves was a mystery. My mother once called him a passing storm. I’ve never noticed him act destructive but I knew it was in him. A man didn’t travel and went without a home for no reason. I needed to get back to work so I left him on the porch to keep smoking.
That night I worked well into the morning hours trying to get as much done as possible. When I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer, I finally went to bed. I checked in on Graves to find him asleep on the couch. He could have used a bed in the other room but I had a feeling he wanted the couch to watch the front of the house. He’d found some cardboard and put it over the broken window, which was unexpected.
I slept until the afternoon which was normal for me. Graves could find himself some breakfast if he got hungry. I figured he just hung around watching TV or smoking on the porch as I slept. A sound of a loud truck coming down the driveway woke me. I rolled out of bed, tired and a mess from the late night. I quickly fixed my sweater and started down the stairs to see what was going on. Graves was already outside on the porch with the front door open. I heard the truck park and he ducked inside long enough to tell me to go back upstairs. I froze, fear starting to rise through my stomach. I didn’t go back to my room but I didn’t move further down the stairs either. I listened trying to hear who arrived even though I already knew the answer.
I heard a conversation between Graves and Harry. Graves sounded calm and pretty much told them to piss off but not using that gentle of a tone. Hank’s voice came and I knew they didn’t like him telling them off. I thought I heard the word monster being tossed around from the pair of rednecks. Then one of them let out a scream. I couldn’t see what happened next but there wasn’t any mystery from what I heard.
A loud sound of a gun rang out and a body hit the wooden porch. It felt like I moved in slow motion as I ran down the steps and outside to the scene. My friend was on the porch, resting on his elbow and knees with his other hand pressed against his stomach. Blood spread out from his borrowed shirt and dripped down onto the faded wooden porch. Hank was trying to reload his rifle with Harry yelling at him. I got down to Grave’s trying to see how badly he was injured. The bullet hadn’t come out of his back and I didn’t know if that was a good sign or not.
I looked up and felt all the anger and hatred for these two men break free. Something pulled up from deep within my chest and I growled at them. Literally growled. My face turned into an expression I’d never made before and my body felt red hot. I didn’t think I could make a sound like that. They both looked like they were going to piss themselves. Hank dropped his rifle and Harry nearly left him behind. They thankfully got back into the truck and bolted down the driveway.
All the heat faded and I suddenly felt exhausted as if I just ran ten miles. I shook it off to try and help my friend. Graves fell to the porch, his body weak and blood flowing. God, there was so much blood from such a small wound.
“Those bastards… where the fuck did they get a blessed bullet from…?” His voice was weak, almost a whisper, and the question was mostly to himself.
I didn’t know what he was talking about. I took his hand trying to remove it so I could see the bullet wound.
“I’ll call for help, hang on, ok?” I said, words shaking.
I went to stand up and Grave’s kept a grip on my hand making it impossible to move. His face pale and damp with sweat, he shook his head. He fixed an intense gaze on my face and a white glint of light came from his eyes that froze my blood.
“No. None of that. You need to do it…”
His voice was still weak but his teeth sharp and eyes glowed that odd white light. At that moment I knew he wasn’t human. Calling the police or getting him to the hospital was the worst thing I could do. I accepted that fact quickly considering the situation. His strength left him and he fell back to the porch, out cold and still bleeding. I wasted no time hooking my arms under him and dragging him into the house. He was thin but heavy as hell. The thought dead weight came to mind, but I dismissed it. I had a bathroom with an ugly green tub on the first floor of the house I didn’t bother upgrading.
I got him into the tub by awkwardly lifting his legs in and then the rest of his body. Graves didn’t wake up from being manhandled. I couldn’t get his sweater off so ran into the kitchen for some scissors. I also grabbed a pair of plies, the tool feeling heavy in my hands.
I quickly came back to cut open the sweater and turned the shower on. The lukewarm water washed away the blood almost as fast as it came. Graves stirred slightly but didn’t wake up. His face losing color by the second. I know it’s a very bad idea to dig around in a wound to get a bullet out. If this was a normal person, the best idea was to get them to the hospital as soon as possible. But Grave’s wasn’t normal. My stomach knotted up. My hands shook and I needed to focus or else I would do more damage. My friend’s face started to look awful. It was as if he started to slowly turn into a mummified corpse. Eyes and cheeks sinking in and lips becoming thin. If I didn’t get the bullet shards out, I would have a dead man in my bathtub.
I thought it took hours to get all the pieces out. It only took forty-five minutes. Every time I removed a small piece of silver from his stomach, his face got better. I knew I got the last piece because he took a deep breath and coughed like he just came back to life. Maybe he did. For a few more minutes I let him recover and wake up a little. The wound in his stomach healed a little, showing just how inhuman he was.
I helped him out of the tub and started to dry his face with a towel. He protested saying he was fine enough to dry himself off and get himself into a new shirt. I found another sweater and a pair of sweatpants that would fit him. He gained enough strength back to kick me out of the bathroom to dress. Graves came back out, uneven on his feet. I put his arm over my shoulder and half carried him to the spare room. His grey eyes were hazy and his body weak.
“You should leave. Just pack up and go.” Graves wheezed out when I got him in bed.
“When you’re better, we’ll leave together.” I lied.
“Wake me up in an hour.”
I let him fall asleep. I refused to just run and let Harry and Hank get away with hurting someone I cared about again. I wasn’t a child anymore.
I wanted to kill them. I’ve felt like that for a long time. My best friend smile so brightly. They took that away from the world and had some long overdue payback for it.
I bought a simple hand gun for protection. Just in case. I kept it locked up since buying it. I made sure it was loaded and put my plan into motion.
I called the sheriff saying I was going to finally take care of my Harry and Hank problem. I told him where to meet me in the woods and hung up. I then called Harry and told him where I wanted to meet him, giving him a time a few minutes before the sheriff would arrive. I also threatened to come to his house and take care of things if he didn’t arrive on time. He lived with his mother and I assumed he didn’t want me snapping and hurting her.
If Harry was going to be there, Hank would be as well. They were going to shoot me that day. But for some reason got scared and ran off before they could. I wanted them to pick a fight with me. It gave me a reason to either fight back or have the sheriff arrest them for assault. It all depended on what they did or if everyone arrived on time. My gun was only to buy time until they got arrested, or as a last resort. I checked in on Graves one last time and headed out wondering when I would see him again.
I parked outside the trail and quickly went off into the woods to a spot that all the locals knew about. There was a clearing with a large tree stump most people used for camping spot or teens for drinking. I didn’t enter the clearing but waited behind a tree, watching. I knew what direction they would come from and kept out of sight. I heard the twigs snapping behind me far too late.
Someone got behind me and knocked the back of my head hard. I fell forwards and a strong hand grabbed my wrist to pin it behind my back. A large body pressed mine against a rough tree, the smell of bad breath and old coffee coming from the person. I struggled to find this person who had more of a size advantage and I couldn’t move.
Hank and Harry arrived, a scared to death expression ion their faces. If they were here, then who the hell ambushed me? I twisted around just enough to see the man holding my arms behind my back. He reached down and found my gun, tossing it to the other men in the clearing.
“Sheriff?” I choked out, head swimming.
He forced me by the stump and with one hand on my neck. He put my left arm on the wooden surface.
“We gave you a chance to leave for years. None of us wants your kind here but you didn’t get any hints. Harry, get your ass over here! We need to cover the costs of the bullet you morons stole! Chop off pieces of this one to sell.” The older man said in a drawl of a voice that normally sounded friendly.
My vision became unfocused. I didn’t understand this. The sheriff had never been overly unkind to me. How could he be on their side? I shook my head thinking this was just a nightmare. I hated myself as much as the sheriff at that moment. It was clear that he’d been covering for those two all these years and I’d just never seen it.
Harry whimpered, knife in hand. I refused to let him do anything to me. I struggled to get free and Hank needed to come over to keep me pinned down. With a great deal of effort, they kept my arm still enough for Harry to press the blade of the knife against my left thumb, ready to slice it off. I stopped, my heart beating and I’ve never been more afraid in my entire life. My entire focus was on the light the knife gave off and nothing else.
Then an odd feeling of heat came from my stomach. I felt it rise to my face and the growl came. I saw red and with strength I didn’t know I had, tossed the two men off my back. As quickly as the anger came, it faded leaving me feeling dizzy and swaying on my feet. The sheriff picked up Hank’s rifle and rudely smashed the butt of it into my face making me topple over. I kept my eyes close, my nose bleeding.
“Is he out?” Harry asked in a shaky voice.
One of them walked over and picked up my arm. I let it fall limp to my face, forcing myself not to flinch when it came down.
“Yeah. He’s out. We should get him to-” The sheriff got cut off by a loud sound of a large person or an animal coming crashing into the clearing.
I risked opening my eyes just enough to see. My heart sank when I saw who arrived. Graves had charged over, knocking over the sheriff but that used up most of his energy. His face was pale he barely stayed on his feet facing the three men between them and myself. Harry and Hank screamed like little girls and darted away. The sheriff got up, shouting at them to stay still.
“He can’t do jack shit unless he’s ordered and paid to do so! Since you’re both still breathing that means no one has given him a job! He’s harmless, just shoot him!” The older man shouted at his two useless friends.
A weird feeling came over me. It was like I already knew all of that but forced myself to forget it. My friend put all his effort into staying on his feet. He did look harmless. He glanced over to see if I was dead or not. Worry on his pale face. I opened my eyes but didn’t sit up. My face hurt like hell and scared to death. Graves started to shake his head not wanting me to go through what I was about to say.
“Take care of all three of them.” I told him.
An expression of regret came over his face. He didn’t want to burden me with the deaths of three people. He could have offered his services at any time but refused to bring it up. He never spoke of his job or how often he hurt others wanting me to be blissfully unaware of who I let into my house. I understood all of this and yet asked him the one thing he never wanted from me. I already fed him and that counted as a payment.
Bullets started to fly as the three men understood what kind of trouble they were now in. Graves was faster. He used his body as a shield to protect me. Us being in that position felt familiar. A memory came from the back of my mind. I’d gotten lost in the woods when I was younger. My father and Graves both came to find me. Then why did Graves need to protect me all those years ago?
The men needed to reload and my protector broke off. His form no longer restrained from whatever rules he’d been burdened with. His face changed with countless shapes coming from it. So many animal heads of different stages of decomposition came down on Harry first. His high-pitched scream turned into a garbled mess. All those animals baring teeth to rip him apart. The other two men fled into the forest and I sat watching Graves eat, seeing a part of what he’d kept hidden.
White lights came from the eyes of the dead animals. I looked around and noticed so many more of those white lights watching from the woods. The sun starting to set making it hard to make out what kind of rotting animals those lights belonged to. A smell of death came between the choking scent of blood.
Even though I knew Graves was on my side, I still felt terrified by what was in the woods. I stayed to watch his face finally return to a human one but he didn’t stop eating. On his hands and knees, he buried his entire head inside the hollowed-out ribcage that belonged to a man that tormented me for most of my life. He jerked back, dragging along a piece of flesh, and ate it down. His face dripped with blood and his breathing came out fast. I stood up, rubbing my bloody nose with the back of my hand.
The sound attracted his attention. His eyes were on mine with that white light shining for a second. His senses returned when I stopped in front of him. I nearly got sick seeing the gory remains of Harry and knowing Graves was the one who did this. Under all that blood, he almost looked sorry over how things turned out. I reached out a hand and he carefully rested a stained cheek in my palm, feeling the warmth of living flesh against his cold skin.
“I never wanted to burden you with this kiddo.” Graves admitted in a low voice.
I knew that. I’ve always known that. Using him to take care of my problems was the first step to losing my humanity. My mother never wanted that for me. And Graves never wanted me to sink to his level either. I got down on my knees to wrap my arms around his neck. The blood on his clothing soaked into my own. Being a very lonely person, he wrapped his arms around me wishing we never got into this situation. Faintly I wondered what my life would have been like if he stayed with my mother. He left us thinking someone like him shouldn’t stain our family with the blood on his hands.
“Make sure they can’t hurt anyone else.” I whispered and felt his head nod.
His form changed in my arms and moved away. Something long and sleek moved too fast to get a good look at it. It ran into the woods followed by so many other creatures. All of them looked grey and rotten. Their bodies moved in unnatural ways and their shining eyes looked for the other two targets.
I wasn’t going to leave him alone. I followed behind, ready to see this until the end. I ran through the woods, night falling around the trees. The lights of the eyes showed me the way. The blood on my clothing turned cold and stuck my sweater to my skin. I still ran and only stopped when I heard a scream off in the distance. It was Hank finally getting caught. Only a few smaller of the undead creatures stayed nearby. The rest of the hoard fell teeth first on the hunted man. Another sound came making me jump.
A gun went off. I looked around to see the sheriff, rifle in hand and a weird symbol painted on his forehead. A warmth came from my stomach. Looking down, I saw my blood-stained sweater get darker in a small area. I pressed my hand against my stomach feeling an odd pressure, then my legs gave out. The smaller animals made screeching sounds. They charged at the sheriff but were shot down.
In the distance, I heard the mangled cry of different creatures. I knew it was Graves screaming because I’d been shot. He started back in our direction but was too late. The other man stood above me, gun in hand and a few scratches on his body from the undead animals.
I couldn’t do a thing to stop him from firing another shot into my chest. My lungs filled up with the same warmth as blood started to drown me from the inside. He knew he wouldn’t get out of the woods alive so he wanted to take down at least one target. If he fired one more shot, he might have done so.
A mass of rotten flesh came out of the woods and on top of him. So many claws tore him apart, spraying the area with blood. I expected the teeth to come out but Graves didn’t have time for a meal. The rotten flesh, fur, and bones turned back into the person I knew. Scared over my well-being. He collapsed to his knees beside me, saying something I couldn’t hear.
My body felt heavy. Somehow, I didn’t feel the pain of the bullets slowly taking my life. I felt his hands over my chest trying to see where I’d been hit. I didn’t want him to see me like this. In those few moments, a memory came back. One of my father’s body in the forest clearing and Graves standing over him, face bloody from where he tore into the other man’s stomach. I think I’ve always known Graves was the one who killed my father. I pushed it back, refusing to think about it. I didn’t hate him for something like that though. I only would hate him if he didn’t kill that monster of a man.
Something came into my body. A painful heat through the palms of my hands. It felt like fiery acid just was injected into my veins to travel through my body. I screamed and kicked trying to get away from the pain. It felt like it went on for years before finally I blacked out.
I thought I’d died. I got shot twice so I really should have. I woke up, weak and unable to move. Graves had placed me on his back as he rushed through the woods. He adjusted my legs and I gripped his neck tighter to show I was awake. He slowed down a little to make the trip less jarring.
“I’m going to get you to a doctor. I need to use a door but can’t make one out in the woods.” He said as if the last part made sense.
“I got shot.” I replied, voice hoarse.
“I’m sorry. Those three were monster hunters. The sheriff avoided my sight and you got hurt because of it. You never should have gone through any of this.”
He refused to look at me when he spoke. He felt guilty that I’d gotten hurt and that I even asked for his help in the first place.
“I’m not dead. Is that because… I’m not human?” I asked, finally asking something that my mother wanted to keep hidden.
He paused, breathing hard, unsure of how to answer my question.
“Your mother was human. Your father was… something else. I’m not even certain of what he was. Those three were scared to death of him and never really tried to kill you because they feared parts of your father got passed down. That wasn’t the case. You need to understand that. You’re nothing like him. You’re alive because I healed you with some magic from the forest. But you’re literally not out of the woods and I need to bring you to be treated.”
I nodded and held him tighter, a weird lump forming in my throat. I kept thinking about my friend when I was six. Those men killed him because he was the same as me. Someone with a monster for a parent. His mother and father died in a house fire shortly after he was shot in the woods. I imagine it wasn’t an accident. How many others did they kill just because they were born different?
I fell asleep again while being carried. My head swimming with so many questions without any answers.
I woke up in a clinic. The doctor said after I ate breakfast I could head home and stay on bed rest for a week. I needed to choke down some blood pudding and sweet tea. The black-haired doctor said the pudding was made for half-breeds like me to recover faster. Graves agreed to do some landscaping outside the clinic to help pay for my stay. I smiled a little seeing him with gloves and covered in dirt from chores. He was dismissed to take me back home but needed to head back after to keep working off my medical debt.
The doctor drew a circle beside a door with some odd writing. When he opened it, I saw my house just outside. Even knowing monsters were real, seeing a magic door for the first time baffled me. I stepped out and found myself coming out of my open car door and not the open clinic door I walked inside. Graves followed behind to make sure I got up the porch. I stopped to stare at the blood stain he left behind the day before. I needed to clean that up but wanted to talk to him before he left.
“The night my father died… You killed him, didn’t you?” I asked him point blank.
He stood at the base of the stairs and looked away; hands stuffed in his pockets.
“I hoped you forgot all about that.” He admitted.
“I wasn’t lost in the woods. He… He snapped. I lured him out there to try and save my mother. He was going to kill one of us and I decided I wanted it to be me.”
I only had a handful of memories left of that night. I heard my mother screaming and saw my father turning into something else. His body was a beast instead of the man who raised me. He always had anger issues but I never thought he would threaten to kill either of us. My mother covered up the small bruises and pretended as if nothing happened. She loved him. I knew that. She always loved that man.
“She… she could have left him sooner but-” I started, tears about to take over.
“Kiddo, you don’t need to think about stuff like this.” Graves said and it pissed me off.
“Don’t treat me like a child!” I snapped at him.
After everything I wanted to face the truth. He took my anger and a little smirk came over his face.
“You’ll always be a kid to me.” He said, the smile making wrinkles appear at the corner of his eyes.
I relaxed and lower my head. I rubbed my eyes with the palm of my hands. I still needed to confirm something and he was the only one still alive that knew the answers.
“My mother said to always treat you well because she owed you something. If you killed my father it makes me think that she was the one who asked you to do it. But that wasn’t the case, was it? She loved him. She had so many chances to leave. She risked both of our lives for that love… I was the one who asked you for help, wasn’t I?”
I didn’t remember asking Graves to do such a thing for me. I wanted him to save my mother even if she loved her husband more than her child. And what did I pay him to do a job like that? I was a child. I didn’t have anything of my own.
The other man nodded grimly, confirming my theory. That was one of the reasons why he left and refused to stay for very long. He felt as if it was his fault he put a child through seeing their dead father. And now that he came back for a day, three people were dead. I could never blame him but I’ve learned people can’t accept forgiveness from others if they can’t forgive themselves.
“What did I pay you back then? A cool rock?” I asked, wondering about one of the last questions I had.
He shuffled his foot around almost embarrassed. Looking around, he checked to see if anyone would be listening. Or course, no one else was around. Hell, I could keep the blood on my porch for a year without anyone seeing it.
“I made you promise me that I could tell you something when you got older without laughing when you heard it.” He admitted making me even more confused.
I didn’t have the faintest idea of what he was talking about. I watched him straighten up, one of the rare times I’ve seen him not slouched over. His face looked more human than it ever had before.
“I love you, kiddo.”
I think if anyone else him say those words so proudly they might be tempted to laugh, or at least smile. I did smile at first then my vision became blurry with tears I couldn’t stop. He could say those words a hundred times but it didn’t change the fact he couldn’t stay. If he did, I wouldn’t be human any longer. I still had a chance at living a normal life like my mother wanted. She may have loved my father more than either of us, but that didn’t matter. I loved her. I never hated her for the choices she made and missed her more than I would ever say out loud. I wanted to live the way she wanted at the risk of not having a different relationship with someone I cared about. I picked the dead over Graves and deep down I think that’s why he saw me as worth something. I kept rubbing my eyes trying to get my tears under control. Graves kicked at the ground awkwardly waiting for me to calm down.
“If you’re ever in this area again you better stay over.” I said, unsure of what else say.
“Alright, but we’re ordering takeout next time. Your meatloaf was so greasy it almost killed me.” Graves replied, his normal lazy tone returning.
I took a few steps across the porch, threatening to knock some sense into him for that comment. He laughed and raised his hands in defense. Both of us knew he needed to go and neither was sure when he would come back, if ever. I wasn’t certain if I would see him again so I returned the words he asked to say as payment all those years ago just before he left through the still-open magic doorway. He didn’t need to answer. We both already said everything that we wanted.
I settled back into a normal routine after recovering. It took a week of working from my bed before I could walk around for more than five minutes without pain. People asked about the three missing men, but no one found any traces of them. No cops came to my place asking questions and a new sheriff took over. Everything started to feel so normal it almost hurt. I had a stable job and the house I lived my entire life. This life was the one both my parents wanted for me. It was peaceful and I decided I was perfectly content listening to my parents’ wishes.