You have to get to the top in order to forget the bottom

the_damaging: a collection of short stories and verse

vaguely satanic • normalcy • following • high crucify • initiation • art of pain • art of rape • art of regret • tear-stained window • section 2 • remote • the price paid • the last man on earth • beyond repair • scarred • letting satan down • art of rape II • these lives • white picket fence • aborticus • a political commentary • proposed constitution • the robot’s end • assorted verse

loren wadzeck

©2011 EØN GROUP

ISBN: 978-0-615-57404-2

and the grass creeps in from the other side | LorenWadzeck@gmail.com

This book may not be reproduced, copied or distributed. For any additional information, please contact the author. Thank you for your support.

Smashwords Edition

WARNING: contains material that some may find offensive or disturbing, discretion is advised

It is said that a snake, when cornered, will sometimes bite itself out of anger before attacking that which is threatening it. So consider these words, us, harming ourselves, before striking back out.

v a g u e l y s a t a n i c

tonight it was going to happen. sixx would repeat over and over “if it controls you, lose control…if it controls you, lose control”.

oh so weary of it all. death to the mundane. he wasn’t sure if his mind was truly gone or if perhaps this was just evolution. he had prepared all the necessary items, gathered them all and strange looks from stores in the community.

this boy, this boy, moaned the elderly. the infirm. must thou partake in such rituals? this boy walking ‘round the store dressed in black. asking the men in the meat department whether or not they might have a goat’s head out back. so dreary. he awakens us to this state.

and behold the cart, full of candles. i must say. bought every solitary one in the store, did he not? to what purpose? where shalt thou go with such things?

this sixx, you can read it on his face. such grim determination. astride with purpose. he has picked tonight to summon the devil has he? a night such as this? a night which sees no rain. no overtones or heavy clouds. all is pleasant around town. bring us no trouble and we shall give you no bother, the townspeople say as they reveal a smile.

paying them no heed, he loads his items into a car. a warm summer eve. pavement melting beneath his feet. shutting the lid, sixx surveys the scene. the power you lack, he laments for the people he can see. the knowledge you do without. i shall no longer be held captive, for these chains I shall free myself from tonight.

on the way home, he took a mental inventory.

the blood and the ash.

the matches and the chalk.

old books piled high in the back.

he was particularly fond of the necronomicon though he understood very little. it was from it he drew inspiration for this night. for this deed. sixx had purchased it on a whim. a passing glance was all it took. the cover stole his eye and he knew he must possess this thing.

the symbols and names were foreign to his head. be that as it may, he was fond of such curiosities. the message he took away, intended or not, was that he must summon this dark one. this one who all profess to fear. sixx found him a kindred spirit. a friend in this life where many dare not tread. oh you outcast, you dweller of shadows. misunderstood by the new order of the ages.

encircle the twelve and three and you shall see that it is me. we shall be joined on this night. on this date so predicted by scholars of old. by seers of days past. we look to the north for the answers we so seek. fog arising from the sea to greet our tracks. we are instructed to dance with the robed one. the one whose name is not understood. cast thee down from the sky and into this realm. into this which man doth wallow.

the god in the sky frowns on such activity. frowns on the calling out of his own. he looks upon sixx and sees that which he hath made.

oh lonely, oh lonely. must you wrap thy arms around me once more? i knew you before you were born. before you entered this shell. before you called it hell. i was there before the beginning. and shall be after the end. i could cast out a thousand angels and it wouldn’t change your view.

arrive at thy home, unload thy items. sixx did just that. excitement filled him so as he looked it all over.

let us waste not another moment, he said with his hands clapping together.

the candles. illumination comes first. only after that can one see. only after undergoing the cleansing is one able to focus. embrace this initiation and learn all that you may. seek this exodus of naivety. do not be led astray by false practitioners. if it controls you, lose control. light the purest soul you can find and use that to guide your way.

the flames dance off the ceiling, around the room.

sixx lit them all, seventy-five to be precise. the room flooded with the warmth only elements can provide. he felt the glow on his arms, basked in the orange color.

turn thee to the chalk. mark thine symbol on the floor.

sixx took the fat, red chalk and drew a star on the ground. he had moved furniture previously and had the entire room at his disposal. he took care when drawing the circle ‘round the star, he wanted it just perfect.

bringing ten of the lit candles over, he placed them around the pentagram.

such a frightening sight for lesser eyes. eyes which had not viewed too much life. he was not easily swayed by such things.

with the book of spells open on the table, sixx began his calling. 

oh you, oh you, oh you lover of the night, he called out.  you embracer of shadows.  come take my hand and show me thine face. we are the nameless and shall remain so named. you wearer of masks living in the double, we were warned not of your coming. surrender thee now to the physical.

unfortunately the store carried no goat’s head but in the freezer area there, curiously, was a baby pig.  perhaps it wandered into the truck, the butchers mused.  they gave sixx the pig in exchange for his silence about what might have transpired back at the plant. 

the pig was mostly thawed by this point in time.  sixx picked its body up and raised it over his head.

seeker of the future and devourer of souls, enjoy the candle’s warm embrace with me, sixx shouted, half afraid the pig would suddenly shift to life in his hand.

he maintained this pose for the better part of a minute before lowering his arm.  sixx made his way over to the book to study his lines.  some of the language made no sense to his tongue but he tried it anyway.

dingir xul, uggae! idimmu barra! zi dingir anna kanpa! zi dingir kia kanpa!, the words came with considerable effort from his mouth.

such gibberish one might muse. you utter words with no meaning, think thoughts with no weight. let not these distractions lead you astray. to see those who jest, who live by inheritance conjures such madness up in my chest. the gall of those who dumb down the mind. and the abhorrence of thee who allow it to be.

some find a home on the stage to make a fool of thyself. the audience trapped to their seat akin to being lowered into a cage. guilty verdicts all around, the judge of people will proclaim. failure to stop and render aid to this corpse of a world.

behind such bars sixx sat contemplating an eon which had passed. what words shall be written about us? what blame placed at our feet?

the heaviness of a helpless soul weighed down on sixx until he could bear no more.

oh primal beast, does thou march around in the nude? the air carrying the feelings from off thy skin.

i emerge from under this cape, he yelled to the sky. rid my hand of this book, it carries no truth. in disgust he threw the book onto the ground and kicked it ‘cross the room.

warm air filled his lungs and he spotted smoke in his exhale.

a blue smoke perhaps is what fooled his eye. drawing letters in the air, deciding how to fly.

the ashes, the ashes. sixx saw on the floor. he placed both hands in the ash and rubbed it all over his face. uncertain he was if this was even in the book. the ash felt right tonight however. it felt unwritten and cool to the touch.

over and over his face, the hands painted a masterpiece. walking over to the mirror to see his reflection, sixx came upon his sunglasses sitting on the table.

do that which is right, that which your body says is true. you must not follow instructions sent from above. for we are dug into the trenches, meat headed for the grinder. offered as sacrifices by the moneymakers. buying and selling our lives for one extra cent. they are provided no consequences for such actions and we ponder why they don’t stop.

perhaps death himself should come calling for them. oh, but thou can’t wish that upon them, cry the victims below. such niceties paved the road which led to our current destination.

they depend on the protection your kind heart provides. taking advantage of all that you are. if not death, then what? shall we hack away their means? i call upon my anonymous brothers and sisters who lie in wait. take these people and their tools. reclaim that which they need to continue such operations.

put on your sunglasses and walk to the mirror. sixx took heed of the advice.

he looked and felt grimy. loved what he saw. no longer caring for his shirt, he removed it.

putting more ash on one of his fingers, sixx wrote the blasphemy SATANIC AS FUCK on the wall. curious as to whether or not that would wash off later. see this sign, he called across the land. you are responsible for this. a byproduct of your actions and words.

sixx proclaimed himself a rock star as he stomped around the room. he intentionally missed the candles as to not cause a fire to engulf this night. he felt the knowledge of another species filling him up.

oh let this never end, he pandered.

perhaps thou shant be doing such things.

sixx stopped. oh but if not this, then what? if I am not to be doing this thing I am doing, precisely what am I supposed to be doing?

no answer filled the room.

sixx considered a taunt. would such a thing work? pry “he who hides” out into the open? call for his head and then set the trap?

he walked over to the pig and picked it up.  blood dripped from it onto the floor.  sixx brought it up to his face and stared at it.  it was hard to see through his sunglasses.

“i am holding your symbol,” he said, voice barely above a whisper.  “come and seize it from my grasp.”

what was that? a shadow? flickering from the corner of his eye?

over there! in the corner!

but alas, nothing is there when he turns to look.

we present thine majesty with a gift. forsaking meaningless words. unnecessary description. for much has been made of your absence.

your absence led many to wonder.

and to wander.

care no more about us, does he! the peasants pondered these things in their chest. held them close as to not show bad form by uttering such things aloud. why that would surely bring the whole globe to a halt!

go forth with this trickery. continue with thine magick spell.

the seers shall see but know not how to speak. to form thoughts from ideas. form from pictures. the grey race presenting us with a hologram of the crucifixion. what does it all mean? was it engineered or an elaborate play? do we follow them to curry favor? might they be one in the same as demons of old?

know not who to trust, who to believe, when all are fighting for calamity.

sixx threw the pig across the floor.  it made a wet splashing sound when it hit the floor and skidded across it, leaving a trail of blood behind. had it ruptured? One prop now wasted.

a life, now wasted.

the hills and the valleys, the highs and the lows.

sixx felt the pressures of reality creeping back up. weighing back down.

all of this is silliness, distraction. time and money ill spent. you could have engaged in something productive. something useful perhaps. to aid a fellow man. to feed the hungry and clothe the children. even the glow of the screen would have proven to be a viable alternative.

but you had to follow your mind. listen to your being. you pay the price for non-conformity.

for opening eyes to that which is new.

they shall hate me for this. for coming from nowhere and changing the world. i sense that the old guard is wallowing in fright. unable to embrace that which is upon it. many shall fling harsh words and accusations my way. laying responsibility at my feet for the ills of their life.

i tell you i accept said burden. i shall carry this torch forth and burn a path.

gather ‘round sweet children, it seems we have a story to share. it shall be one of greatness and genius not seen since the dawn of existence.

they shall see and they shall know. i have arrived in this place. in this time. i am the bringer of light, the guide of man. in such a dark hour, you can turn to me for instruction.

from sumeria to babylon it is here i now land.

all whispers and drawings will be found to be false. your words mean nothing to me. your arrogance is absorbed and directed back. i drop my robe to the floor and stand amongst you. you have seen my face and profess knowledge of who i am but none truly know.

the alpha and omega has presented me a bargain. you were born into that which you do not understand. allow me to wipe away this mirror so that you may see what is truly there.

your name is purity and you shall set forth upon this life to engage in battle with those who wish to bring us harm. we shall visit violence upon them the likes which have never been seen. the abruptness of death shall stop all in their tracks.

leaving no time to flee.

i shall stand atop that mountain, visible to the masses. i shall see thine army marching towards me, numbering in the millions. but tremble not, for we have creation on our side. the blue light of purity shines brightly within my chest.

i speak these words and know them to be true.

if you would only appear and let me show you that which will be, perhaps this can all be avoided. i know not of your plan to counter such events but know that it must be glaring with futility.

sixx kicked one of the candles over that was placed nearby. it was naïve to imagine he would show his face. ridiculous to think he had any nerve to face me. anger began to engulf the room for the area was quite the mess.

spirit of the moon, remember! nanna, father of all astral gods, remember! in the name of the covenant sworn between thee and the race of man. i call to thee! hearken, and remember! from the gates of the earth, i call to thee! from the four gates of the land ki, i pray to thee! o lord, hero of the gods, who in heaven and upon the earth is exalted. lord nanna, called sin, hear me! lord nanna, god of the shining crown of night, hear me! maker of kings, progenitor of the land, giver of the gilded sceptre. hear me and remember! gate of the great gates, open unto me! master of the valley, open thy gate! open the gate to the stars! ashtag karelliosh!

he threw forth his sunglasses onto the table and went to bring the lights back up.

but hold fast, was that a whisper he heard?

silence.

after a few more moments had passed, he started toward the light switch when he heard it again.  another whisper.  sounded like someone was uttering the phrase “come in”. 

sixx listened for the faint noise once again. 

something moved just out of his range of vision.  sixx turned his entire body to see what it was.

“come in,” came a loud whisper.

coldness took him over.  where had he thrown his shirt?  his eyes were starting to blur. such as watching rain on a window. 

another shadow moved.

sixx was breathing hard.  was something really happening?  had he brought something in here with him?

he took another step toward the light switch.

“come in sixx, please come in,” came a voice, no longer whispering. shall whisper ten thousand lies in the blink of an eye.

he let out a small cry.  such previous brave words faded away. once confronted, the bully often will back down. the childlike fear of the dark returned. the fear of the monsters closed around him.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry,” he kept repeating.  “i take it back, i take it back.”

multiple shadows filled the room. the old souls returning to their place. marching in formation or flying ‘bout the room. they stayed in no particular form or followed any certain path.

sixx looked all around, he could feel himself starting to lose control of his mind. we all slip away eventually. if it controls you, lose control.

he turned around and started back to the light switch and saw a man in an old suit sitting on the couch.

“i said come in!” came a deep voice.

sixx yelled and looked away.  when he looked back, the man was gone.

“i do not want this, i do not want this,” sixx said.

be wary of who ye invite to thy home. intentions rarely match up. be the keeper of your door, the guardian of your step. let no words lead you astray as you let no man take you away. if it is weakness they smell, they will come.

he finally made it to the light switch and turned it on.

his mind momentarily cleared. 

oh the man before me hence-forth disappeared. no words from his mouth, just sat and he leered. bringing with him accusation, fables, and lies. taking you around all the lows and the highs.

he began the process of cleaning his place up.  he wanted all of this out of here. 

he tried not to think about what had just happened. 

but no matter how much he tried to block it, how badly he tried to pretend it didn’t happen, for the remainder of his life he still always saw shadows just out of the corner of his eye.

i can feel you now, can see past the end. but didn’t jesus say all of us have sinned? masquerading as the one last hope. making it so that you cannot cope. i sit here waiting for you once again while all my thoughts and fears begin. if you are willing and can abide, please excuse me while i experience suicide. you will see that it is for the best. now it is up to me to take care of the rest. you live this life to see everyone has lied. we stand at the door of depression,

only to find ourselves on the other side.

you are expendable

you are expendable

you are expendable

you are expendable

you are expendable

you are expendable

you are expendable

you are expendable

you are expendable

you are expendable

you are expendable

you are expendable

you are expendable

you are expendable

you are expendable

you are expendable

you are expendable

you are expendable

you are expendable

you are expendable

n o r m a l c y

Nick parked his brand new Audi in the first vacant spot he came to in the vast underground parking garage. Since it was almost ten o’clock at night, there were plenty to choose from. He parked right next to the spot designated “VP of Marketing”. That was Ken’s spot. Even at this late hour, Nick was not going to disrespect his boss by taking his spot.

One day, he said aloud. One day I’ll be able to park there.

There was really no reason for Nick to be at the office at this time but after recently acquiring a Director title, he only felt it right. Felt he was supposed to be here. Maybe someone is working late and when they see me up here they’ll feel good that the boss saw them hard at work.

Nick stepped out of the car, clothed exclusively in Armani. From shirt to shoes he thought it right to be slightly better dressed than those beneath him.

The days of the company mandating suits be worn at all times was over. Nick did not wish to show anybody up by wearing a tie, especially those above him.

As he walked in the parking garage towards the elevator that would take him into the building, his thoughts shifted to Julie.

Bitch, he muttered under his breath. He was fairly certain he had never been cheated on before her. Not in high school, college, never. They had dated for almost six months.

When Nick got his much deserved promotion, he informed her that, for a while, he would need to focus solely on work. To show his superiors they had made the right choice in promoting him.

What does that mean, she kept asking. Are you breaking up with me? No, no nothing like that, I just need to do the work thing for now.

Then, a few weeks back, he dropped by her town home for a visit. She answered the door in a short nightgown, surprised to see him.

As they came into the living room, she goes “Look, there’s something you should know. I’ve been seeing Steffon again.”

Once Nick registered everything, he asked, “Who the fuck is Steffon?”

“I the fuck am Steffon!” the answer came thundering down.

Nick looked up and at the top of the staircase stood Steffon. He had an unlit pipe (a fucking pipe!) in his mouth and was wearing a short red robe. Looked Italian.

So now Nick had plenty of time to concentrate on the work thing.

He made it to the elevators in the cavernous parking garage and pressed the Up arrow. There were normally two garage elevators running but the building was doing maintenance on one of them. This meant you enjoyed a twice as long wait time now for a ride. Due to the late hour, he did not have to wait long.

The doors opened and Nick stepped in.

The garage elevators always had a slight glue smell to them. One of those not great but not terrible aromas. He pressed the L button for lobby and up he went.

Occasionally when he was alone in an elevator, Nick would start making the craziest faces he could for the entire ride. And then, right when the doors were opening, he would act normal. He wasn’t sure why he did this. Boredom maybe. A chance to act silly for a moment in the straight laced corporate world.

The doors opened and Nick stepped out into the building’s lobby. It was a nice lobby, one Nick was proud to walk through every day.

White tile on the floor with gray lines randomly throughout. On one wall was a long aquarium with ugly (read: cheap) fish in it. Then you had the obligatory fake plants and small sitting areas mixed in.

Nick walked past the security desk that had no security person at it and headed for the elevators marked “Floors 9 – 12”. He got on, pressed 10 and began his second elevator ride of the evening.

The building elevators were nicer than the ones in the garage. These had dark wood paneling, a coffee aroma, and even a television perched in the top left corner. Many people complained about the TV because all it showed was Wall Street Journal news. Nick liked it however and it got him in a business mood when he saw all the stock figures racing across the bottom of the screen each morning.

Since it was after trading hours, the TV informed him that some South American company named Panoe had recently acquired NitePlan in a blockbuster deal. Having no idea who those two companies were, he just stared at the elevator door for the remainder of the trip. No faces this time.

He stepped off onto the 10^th floor and immediately enjoyed the ambience. It was eerie quiet and every fourth light was on. Very peaceful in Nick’s mind. Quite different than the normal chaos of a regular working day.

He walked over to the glass doors, pressed his badge (which for a second he thought he had left in the car) against the reader which beeped and let him in. He was greeted by the low hum of fifty or so computers being left on all night.

The cube farm, as many of the workers called it, stretched out before him. Rows and rows of cubicles.

The cube walls were a beige color which gave an immediate khaki feel to the entire floor. Nick had never had to sit in a cubicle before, he always had an office. He shuddered thinking about having to sit next to some of the people out here. Most were fine, but then there were those…

He read the name tags on the cube walls as he walked to his office.

Bruce Lenard – just had to have a meeting with him, with HR present of course, about his hygiene. After two or more employees complain that you smell, it’s an automatic meeting. It wasn’t nearly as awkward as Nick thought it might be. HR had a script prepared for every situation imaginable. All he did was read from it, have Bruce sign it that he understood and acknowledged the problem, and then everyone went back to work.

Linda Fullton – she was an ugly woman, married somehow. Nick thought her husband should probably be charged with bestiality for having sex with her. But she was on the wrong side of 40 with no kids, so maybe he wasn’t.

Jon Gladsone – just got a bad review and didn’t understand why.

Mervin Wheeler – Nick always teased him about his name.

Stacy Kindle – not that bright, but good looking and did enough to get by.

Michael Bruce – stupid.

It was right then when Nick heard the noise. Low music playing and, was that a laugh he heard?

Nick quickened his pace towards the row of offices the managers sat in. That would be no good if someone else from his department was up here. It would mean that they had stayed later than he had. Much later. Would his superiors see that as more dedication?

Nick didn’t like this. Didn’t like being shown up. If it was one of the managers who were up here, he would firmly remind them that the whole reason they had laptops was so that they could work from home.

Not to come in and steal his glory.

It was definitely music he was hearing. Sounded techno. And now he heard two voices.

Random laughter and muffled voices. Male and female. It was most assuredly coming from one of the manager’s offices.

When he reached the offices he saw all were dark except the third one down. Door closed, light shining through the space between the bottom of the door and the floor.

It was techno.

Same beat over and over. Nick thought all dance music sounded the same. He was more into jam bands and, truth be told, rap.

The office belonged to Rachel Simmons. Very attractive, been with the company for over five years. Nick heard a loud snorting sound followed by laughter come from behind the door.

Boom-che-boom-che-boom-che-boom went the music.

Rachel and whoever else in there with her certainly weren’t up here working.

Drinking maybe?

Why here though? Plenty of bars around the area.

What if she was having an affair? He was pretty sure she was married. Maybe she was messing around with someone else in the office.

Before he became a Director, Nick had once tried to hook up with one of the Directors in their sister office. She informed him that she didn’t fuck down the ladder, she fucks up it. And that was that.

Should he just barge in? Demand to know what was going on? Or should he knock first? Or he could pull that move where he quickly knocks and then opens the door.

He decided on the last option.

Right when he walked through the door, he stopped dead.

“The hell…” was all he got out.

Rachel was there but so was Marc. He was one of the new temps they brought in a couple of weeks ago.

Marc was standing up wearing a sailor hat, aviator sunglasses, and a t-shirt. Naked from the waist down. Rachel was sitting in her chair, shirtless but bra still on, hunched over Marc’s erect penis, sniffing what Nick assumed to be coke off of it.

Boom-che-boom-che-boom-che-boom

Marc just kind of looked at him for a minute, mouth open, until everything registered.

“Uhhh…” was what he mustered.

Rachel stood up and tried to play it straight. “Nick! Hi, hello. I…I wish I knew you were coming up here tonight.”

Then she shuffled some papers around on her desk, wiped her nose, and looked back at him.

Still shirtless.

Why would she mess around with Marc, Nick thought. Marc who he believed had tried to outdo him on breakfast not even three days ago.

On his way to work that morning, Nick decided to bring donuts in for the department. He was going to get name-brand ones too, not ones from that donut place by his apartment run by Asians. He picked up five dozen assorted donuts and walked into the office ready to be hailed as a savior.

But then he saw that everyone had a bagel in their hand.

And not just a bagel, a gourmet bagel. Marc had brought in gourmet bagels for everyone that morning.

Nick stood there with his five dozen donuts and didn’t know if he was going to cry or yell. He wouldn’t know where to get gourmet bagels even if he had to.

“Oh just put those in the break room, I’m sure they’ll get eaten,” Karen Flass had told him.

Nick thought, I don’t want to fucking put them in the break room; I want to put them in our food area for us to enjoy. Even though the “food area” consisted of a random desk pushed up against one of the walls.

“So…what now?” Marc asked.

Nick snapped back into the situation.

“I mean, I know this looks bad but we weren’t breaking any company rules were we?” Rachel asked, smiling sweetly. A smile that had probably gotten her pretty much anything she had wanted in life.

“I’m not sure a rule was ever written to encompass this situation,” Nick replied, the initial shock wearing off.

Marc walked over to him, his penis about an inch away from Nick’s leg. Nick eyed it warily.

“Look man, I’m sorry, I certainly didn’t mean any disrespect,” Marc said, sunglasses and hat still on.

Rachel started putting her shirt on. Nick wished she wouldn’t.

“So, are we good here?” she asked, grabbing her purse off the desk.

“I, uh…” Nick started.

“Great, I’ll see both of you tomorrow morning!”

Then she left, like nothing had happened.

“Yeah, I’m going to go ahead and clean up and then take off,” Marc said, slowly inching Nick out of the office.

“Well…don’t be late tomorrow,” was all Nick could come up with.

Nick turned and walked to his office. He heard Marc turn the music off, rustle about a bit, then the door closing and footsteps towards the exit.

What now, Nick thought. It seemed absurd to look over the previous day’s numbers now. Or any kind of work for that matter.

Following suit, Nick got up, shut his door on his way out and headed towards the exit.

f o l l o w i n g

Michael had only gone to the store to buy a loaf of bread. A regular loaf too, not one of those half loaves that they charge you twice as much for. One of those things people buy so they don’t feel as wasteful. Better to waste money than food they suppose. It was going to be a quick trip, get in and get out.

As fast as you can these days in the super mega stores. Where they sell everything from food to car oil. Thirty checkout lanes but only four of them manned at any given time. Make you wait. Gives you time to reflect on some other bullshit you might have forgotten to pick up but would never leave the line to go grab.

His parking spot was also terrible. He didn’t get lucky as he sometimes did, catching someone pulling out of one of the front spots. So he had to bypass all the good spots that were filled up, bypass the multiple handicap spots, bypass the expectant mother spots, and so on.

He had come here straight after work so it was pushing 6pm by the time he walked through the front door of the store. A loaf of bread, that’s it. But by the time he made it to the checkout line, his shopping cart was half full. They got him again. As he had been walking the aisles, the products seemed to jump out at him.

You’re almost out of me, toilet paper said.

We’re running a little low, root beer said.

Michael surveyed the items in the cart. Was there anything he could put back? He was going to pay cash for the bread but he didn’t have enough cash to cover all of the extras he had acquired.

Would have to use the card.

He gave the cashier an obligatory greeting and let his eyes wander while she scanned his items. Trysha was on her name tag. He wondered if that was a short “i” sound or long. Whatever it was, she was very efficient at her job. Her hands flew the goods over the scanner and into the bags with ease.

Before he had even gotten his debit card out, she was informing him the amount was $42.17. It was less than he thought it was going to be. Wonder if she didn’t scan something?

He swiped his card, entered his pin number and took his receipt from the cashier. He decided to keep his grocery bags in the cart instead of carrying them out to his car.

Michael was pushing his cart through the exit when a young girl of about seven and her mother walked by him on their way out of the store as well. They were frugal and had kept their purchases down to one bag, which the young girl was carrying.

“Mommy, when is daddy going to be home?” she asked her mother.

The mother was quite attractive. She was still fairly young and looked like she might have money.

“Baby, you know that daddy’s gone for the next two days. He’ll be back on Friday,” she replied to her daughter.

Michael immediately thought that wasn’t the smartest thing to say out in public where others could hear you. They were in a good area but that mattered little.

He stayed behind them as he continued pushing his cart. They came to a stop at a Lexus and got in.

I knew it, Michael thought…money.

He loaded his own groceries into the trunk of his car and got in. The mother and daughter were still sitting in the car. Again he thought what a truly unintelligent thing to say out loud. She might as well have gotten on the PA system and announced their living situation to the entire store.

Daddy’s gone for the next two days.

Michael snorted and started his car.

He knew they had money. She had that year round tan look about her. He wasn’t sure if she was quite attractive enough to be considered someone’s trophy wife. Possibly. Depended on the guy.

Two days. Michael thought about what his evening held in store for him. He’d go home, eat yet another dinner alone, watch whatever garbage that was passed off as entertainment these days on TV, and then go to bed. Typical night.

Two days.

What an exciting alternative world he could have. Something different.

The Lexus started up and immediately backed out of the parking space and began to drive away.

Another dinner alone.

Michael pulled out as well and started to follow the luxury car.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Just curious as to where they live, Michael justified this to himself. I’m just bored and want to see how the other half lives. He felt like a spy following his mark.

Police shows he watched taught him to stay a few cars back, as to not be detected. He felt ridiculous. We’re in the suburbs, not a television show in New York City.

The woman was a fairly fast driver, changing lanes with frequency. Evening was settling in so Michael turned his headlights on.

They drove for roughly ten minutes before the Lexus turned into a neighborhood. It wasn’t the big, majestic gated community that he thought they would live in. It was fairly normal. A few big homes here and there but nothing out of the ordinary. It was a shade better than where Michael lived.

He slowed the car down since they were the only two on this residential street now. After passing several houses, the Lexus put on its left turn signal and turned into the side driveway of a two-story red brick house.

She used a turn signal. Had she noticed him? Noticed the car that had been behind them since the store?

Michael couldn’t just pull up in front of the house, so he kept driving past it.

Now what? Head on home?

What exactly had he planned to do with the information the young girl had given him? He wasn’t a thief or a rapist. Maybe he would just go ring the doorbell and tell them to be careful what they say in public. That wouldn’t look strange. The woman would ask him why he followed them home to tell them that.

Maybe she’d shoot him or blast him with pepper spray.

He drove two more streets down and pulled the car over.

Drumming his fingers on the steering wheel, he looked around. This part of the neighborhood was fairly dark. Only two streetlights were currently on.

Let’s just walk down there, he told himself. We’ll take a look around and then leave.

But, another voice in his head started, you might want to wait a while longer to make sure they are asleep. Just in case you decide to go inside.

Michael laughed out loud. This is ridiculous. I’m just a normal guy. I get up in the morning, go to work, come home, have a few drinks, watch sports, and go to sleep.

Isn’t that why you’re here, the voice asked. To break up the monotony?

Michael stopped the drumming. He took another look around.

He would wait two hours before going over to the house

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Michael walked quickly down the alley. He was originally going to walk on the sidewalk in front of the homes but decided that was too risky. Too many people might see him.

The only risk to walking in the alley was somebody coming out and wondering what he was doing back here.

It was hard to see in the alley. Every now and then, someone’s security light would come on as he walked past or a dog would bark in a random backyard.

Even though it was warm outside, he still put his hands in his pockets as he walked. He still had no plan of action once he reached the house. Again, he felt like a spy.

He finally came to a stop behind their house. 2012 Lancaster Lane.

No security light came on as he looked at the house. The back driveway was in front of him leading to the garage. Directly beside that was a tall fence that surrounded the backyard.

A really tall fence. Michael estimated it at eight or nine feet.

He made his way up the driveway expecting at any moment to be blinded by a thousand-watt security light that had detected his movements.

Nothing.

On the fence there was a door that led to the backyard. Michael saw no lock on it so he opened it, stepped into the backyard and shut the door behind him.

There were several solar-powered garden lights that gave him enough visibility to see where he was walking in the yard. There was a wagon and a couple of toys in the yard but otherwise it was empty. No trees. No shed. Just grass.

The backdoor was framed with windows. Michael could tell it was dark in the house. Lights out for bedtime perhaps?

It was quiet outside as he walked over to the door. Not even a wind was blowing. If he made any noise whatsoever, it would surely be heard.

He made it to the door and reached out for the handle.

Moment of truth, he thought to himself. Have we had enough fun for one night? Shouldn’t we go home before something bad happens?

If the door is locked we’ll go home, he decided. He thought that was a safe bet. Who wouldn’t lock their doors? Especially when Daddy was out of town.

Michael turned the doorknob and it opened.

The door made no noise as it opened into the house.

Michael shook his head. The hell?

Would he call his own bluff now?

Maybe he should leave but leave the door open. Maybe then they’d get the message that they should be more careful. But then, what if an actual murderer or someone came along, saw the open door, and took advantage?

He almost laughed out loud again. Sure, because murderers usually cruise back neighborhood alleys looking for already-opened doors.

I bet some do, the voice piped in again. Where else would people like that roam?

Michael suddenly got a little scared. What if there were bad people walking the same alley he just had?

He went inside the house and shut the door behind him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

It was dark in the house except for a few LED nightlights that were plugged in. They were just bright enough so Michael could make out his surroundings.

He was in the living room.

He stood still until his eyes completely adjusted to where he could see. He didn’t want to start walking and trip over any toys that might be on the floor.

There were two couches and a loveseat in this room and he could see the kitchen off to his right.

He listened for any kind of talking or activity taking place elsewhere in the house but heard nothing. There was a hallway directly in front of him and a staircase at the end of it.

He debated taking his shoes off. It would allow him to move around quieter but he’d be in trouble if he had to run out of the house suddenly or fight off an attack. He definitely didn’t want to take a chance of leaving his shoes in the house since that would be solid evidence that he had been there. But if he kept his shoes on, he wondered if police would be able to snag a footprint from the floor and identify him that way.

He decided to keep them on. He also decided to buy some of these LED nightlights at some point. They gave off a very pleasant glow, not a harsh light like most nightlights he’d seen.

The floors in the house were wood so he walked very slowly as he started down the hall.

One door he passed was slightly open and he saw it was the laundry room. Smelled good as he walked by. A fresh laundry scent that he always enjoyed.

The other two doors in the hallway were shut. He imagined that one led out to the garage and the other was probably a closet or bathroom. He didn’t bother opening either of them.

He heard a loud meow.

Michael froze. Where had that come from?

Another meow.

End of the hall, by the stairs. A white cat had plopped down on the floor by the stairs and was staring at him.

Since it had been so quiet in the house, those meows sounded like screams to him.

Michael walked quickly towards the cat, hoping to avoid another outburst.

“Hey little guy,” he whispered, reaching down to pet the cat.

MEOW!

“Shit! Shhh. Shhhhhh,” Michael said quietly as possible to the cat.

He pet the cat and kept glancing up the stairs to see if anyone was coming down to investigate the feline’s intruder alert.

After a few minutes he felt he was in the clear.

Michael went up the staircase, careful to not touch the handrail.

No fingerprints, he thought wisely to himself.

Yeah, but what about all the other stuff you’ve touched in here genius?

The top of the stairs opened up into a large room which looked like it was being used as a play area for the little girl. Lots of toys on the floor. From what he could see, it looked like there were more toys and books in these large shelves that lined one of the walls.

He would have to be very careful to not step on anything in this room. His nephew had a lot of toys that would instantly launch into a song once they were touched in the slightest. That’s the last thing he wanted to happen up here.

Michael saw two doors up here, one on either side of this room. Those have to be to the bedrooms, he thought.

He chose the door to the left of him to check first.  It was obviously 50/50 whether it was the child’s room or the parents’.  He hoped it wasn’t the child’s room.  He didn’t want to take a chance of waking her up and have her start screaming. 

He had his escape route planned in any event.  This consisted of him hauling ass back down the stairs, out the back door, down the alley, and to his car. 

But he’d take special care to not peel out when leaving.  That’s how people noticed you.  That’s how people noticed the make and model of your car.  He would drive away normally…or as normal as possible.

Michael wondered if he should have a mask on.  Maybe there were security cameras in the house.  Maybe he was already caught.  He looked around the playroom quickly to see if there was some Halloween mask or anything he might use to hide his face. 

 Nothing.

Would he have worn it even if he had spotted one?  He imagined walking around the house in a gorilla mask.  Imagined the girl waking up and seeing some guy with a gorilla head in her room.  Michael would have caused her years of therapy.  Or what if there had been a Barbie mask? 

Michael stifled a laugh.  That would have been odd and somewhat disturbing.

 He made his way over to the door and gently turned the knob.  It opened with no sound, the bottom of the door gliding softly against the carpet.  He took a couple of steps into the room.

With help from the glow of a nightlight, he saw that this was the girl’s room.  The ceiling fan was on and he also heard a low humming noise.  He spotted an air purifier in the corner of the room that was the culprit.  That was good though.  The noise masked his movement. 

 The girl was sleeping on her back, covers half kicked off.  She had on a long sleep-shirt that had a large star on it.  The room was clean and picked up. 

He looked around and saw a couple of posters on the wall of people he didn’t recognize.  Most likely the latest pop star or actor from a random Disney show.  He couldn’t tell what color the walls were or anything else of interest in here. 

The girl made a sniffing sound but didn’t move.  Michael looked at her to make sure her eyes didn’t open.  When they didn’t, he backed up out of the room and shut the door.

His mind turned to what would have happened if he had gotten caught at that exact moment.  No judge or jury in the world would have believed he was in a young girl’s room in the middle of the night and didn’t have bad intentions.  He really should get out of here while he could.

His eyes settled on the other door across the room.

Moment of truth, he thought.

He walked swiftly across the room and stopped right in front of the door.

What if she had a weapon? A gun perhaps.

He slowly opened the door which opened as quietly as every other door he had opened in this house. He stepped through the doorway.

It was harder to see in this room. Seemed mom and dad didn’t sleep with a nightlight.

There was a minimal amount of moonlight coming in through the two large windows in the room which gave his dark-adjusted eyes just enough guidance to make his way through the room.

There were the typical master bedroom pieces of furniture. A large chest of drawers, an armoire, TV stand, and king bed.

From the bed he could hear the woman breathing. It was heavy breathing but not quite a snore.

Michael walked over to the bed to get a good look at her.

She was sleeping in a t-shirt with her mouth slightly open. Her glasses on the nightstand beside the bed.

Shall we go now, the voice in his head asked. We’ve had our excitement for the year.

But Michael still had that nagging feeling that he should warn them to be more careful in public, teach them a lesson somehow.

He reached his hand out and gently touched the woman on her shoulder.

She made no movement.

He took his hand away. This was no good.

Michael thought for a moment and then walked around the bed and got under the covers, presumably where her husband usually slept.

He still had his shoes on.

The woman was still asleep.

He lay on his back, looking up at the ornate ceiling fan that was on above them.

He wanted this life. In bed with his wife, child asleep in the other room. Nice, large house in the suburbs. Him having to leave on business every now and then.

Michael wondered what the guy looked like. There had probably been pictures somewhere but he hadn’t bothered to notice. Maybe he should secretly leave a note where only he could find it.

Michael wasn’t sure why he was so hung up on warning these people. Maybe they just seemed nice and he didn’t want anything bad happening to them due to careless words on their part.

He looked over again at the woman and then rolled over on top of her.

That woke her up.

At first she had a confused, “what’s going on” look on her face but quickly realized that a strange man was on top of her.

Michael expected a scream but instead the woman, in a calm voice, simply said, “Please get off of me.”

This threw him off a bit. He had been all ready to cover her mouth up and let her know that he didn’t mean her any harm.

“Please,” she said again. “It’s hard for me to breathe with you on me.”

Michael stared at her.

She looked back, zero fear on her face.

Michael knew he didn’t look like a crazy person but this woman’s nerve was unreal.

“How do you know I’m not here to hurt you?” he asked, trying to make his voice sound somewhat menacing.

“Are you?” she asked candidly.

“I’d like to think not,” he responded. “I really just wanted to tell you something.”

“And what would that be,” she asked.

She might be a psychologist, he thought. She knows the best way to defuse a potential violent situation is with calmness. No way that anybody else reacts like this.

“Well, you need to watch what you say out in public,” he started.

She stared at him.

“I overheard you and your daughter say that your husband was gone for a few days. It’s just…it wouldn’t be good if the wrong person heard that.”

“And it was good that you did?” she asked.

“I’m…that’s different.”

“It seems to me that you followed me home, broke into my house, and were contemplating harming me.”

Michael was trying to find a clean way to end this, to escape. She had easily outwitted him.

He stayed on top of her.

“Do you want to do something?” he asked her.

“What do you mean?”

“You know…something,” he tried to insinuate.

“No,” she replied. “I don’t.”

Michael rolled off of her and hit the floor. He had gotten tangled up in the sheets.

As he struggled to get up, he kept expecting to hear the sound of a gunshot. When that never came, he got to his feet and ran out of the room.

He more or less slid down the stairs and sprinted out of the back door towards the alley.

As he ran faster and faster to his car, he felt the night air fill his lungs.

Alive, he thought with a smile breaking out on his face. This is what it’s like to be alive.

h i g h c r u c i f y

“Hey Mont. You working overtime today?” Matt asked as he stuck his head into the adjoining cubicle.

“No, I’m just about to finish up,” Montgomery Allen was his full name but he hated the word ‘Montgomery’ so he made all of his friends call him ‘Mont’. But he wasn’t quite sure if he considered Matt a friend.

“Well it’s almost 5:00 so I’m taking off. See you tomorrow.” Matt then picked up his briefcase and left the large office.

Mont stared at his computer screen for several more minutes.

“Damn these spreadsheets,” Mont said out loud. He had been working on this project all week and now that he had all the information he needed, the computer would not co-operate with him.

Mont picked his tie up off the desk, he always took it off when he got frustrated, and started to put it back around his pudgy neck. After he finished, he decided that was enough for one day.

He turned the computer off, got his things together, and left the huge business building on the outskirts of downtown Dallas.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Honey, it’s me,” Mont said into the telephone.

“Mont. Are you still at the office?” Allison’s voice crackled into the earpiece.

“No, I’m on the cell phone. I wanted to know what we were doing for dinner tonight.”

“I don’t know. I got in late and haven’t started anything yet. Devon just got in from track practice and he’s starving so I guess we need to get something pretty soon.”

“Do you want me to pick up a pizza?”

“Uh...that’s fine. Let’s do that.”

“Okay, I’ll…”

“Mont.”

“What?”

“Don’t bother coming home if you get another Supreme Pizza.”

“There’s nothing wrong with…”

“Pepperoni, Mont.”

“You people have no taste.”

“I’ll see you when you get here.”

“All right,” Mont clicked the phone off and concentrated on the heavy traffic that was coming up.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Mont pulled into his driveway behind his son’s old VW Bug. Mont could not understand why Devon wanted that car. It was painted off-white but parts of it were peeled away, revealing a powder blue paint job underneath.

Mont also noticed a new sticker in the middle of the back window. The sticker read: VAMPIRE LEZBOS.

“The fuck?” Mont said as he saw the sticker.

He almost dropped the two pizzas as he shut his car door. He was especially protective of the top pizza, the one that was half Supreme. They would just have to compromise. Just then something white splattered across the hood of his car.

Bird shit.

“Son of a bitch! I’m going to shoot every one of you sons of bitches!” Mont yelled at the sky. That’s when he noticed what looked like a black cloud over his house. But if that was the case, it was the only cloud in the sky.

The more Mont looked at it, the more it took on a crucifix form, only the arms were raised higher. In a way it looked like a ‘Y’. Mont thought it was strangely cool.

He looked at it until the pizzas started to burn his hands, then he went inside.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Before he could leave for work the next day, Mont had to scrape the hardened excrement from his car’s hood. While he was working away at it, cursing the whole time, he saw that the cloud was still over his house.

He could see it better now that it was light outside. It still looked like it did last night though. And it was still the only black cloud in the sky. It also looked like it was a little lower in the sky than it had been yesterday.

Mont finished giving the hood a good scrubbing, got in the car, and left for the office.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“Hey chief. How ya doin’?” Matt greeted Mont as he walked into the office.

“All right,” Mont hated when Matt called him chief. Matt called everybody chief.

“You finishing up that presentation for the big boss today?”

“Hopefully. If the computer will help me out.”

“Don’t count on that chief. Catch up with you later,” Matt then strolled away to another cubicle.

“Asshole,” Mont said under his breath.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Later that day, Mont’s boss came into his cubicle.