Modern Monsters

Milton the Owl

Female reader x Male Monster

My family owned and operated a little Asian market where a gas station used to be. We didn't sell gas, but we still had the old pumps standing there, so of course, we had people coming to get gas, then getting pissed off when we had no gas. It was a constant cycle of 'I'm mad at this, but I want to try this weird Chinese candy'.

We not only worked at the store, but we lived in the apartments above it. With the seven of us; Mom, Dad, Grandma, Me, and my three little brothers, it was cramped and stuffy. My room had once been a walk in closet, meanwhile, my brothers got the biggest room in the house and my Grandmother got her own bathroom. I knew I had a responsibility to my family, but now that my little brothers were growing up and helping out more with the store, I decided it was my time to find my own wings and fly to a new nest.

I found a job offer in the newspaper, one that provided room and board, as well as decent pay. It seemed too good to be true, and when I called to inquire about it, I was shocked to find the position hadn't been filled yet.

I scheduled an interview with the man who answered, a man named Milton J. Henson. He lived out of town and down the scenic route where the buses didn't go. I ended up having to borrow one of my brother's bikes so I could make it to the interview.

"You should take this with you, princess!" My grandmother hands me a hammer.

"For what?" I ask as I look it over.

"There is a knife hidden in the handle. If this man gets too handsy, you just jab him a few times and come home." Grandma grins as she bobs her head.

My grandmother has always been a bit on the weird side, but this really takes the cake. "If I wanted to do that, why would I take a knife encased in a hammer?" I ask her.

"Everyone likes hammers!" Grandma grins.

I put the hammer in my bag just to make her happy, although I doubt I will ever actually need it.

The ride to this place goes down several winding paths. I go by huge mansions and sprawling estates that are hidden behind iron gates and privacy hedges. The road swoops down and it begins to narrow. The trees on either side both close in more and grow taller the further I go. Eventually, the path becomes so narrow that only a single car can drive on it comfortably. I come to the end of the road, where the dead end is the address I am going to.

The wrought iron gate is tall with giant stone pillars one either side. In the center of the gate, there is a big circle where an owl face glares from the iron. I look around, feeling a strange sense of being watched all around me. There is a button on one of the stone pillars and, when I press it, I hear what sounds like a church bell ring. The gates then creak open, swinging inside and opening onto a new path. I huff and make my way up the steep hill to the massive house at the top.

I step off the bike to gawk at it. No one would have to share a room or bathroom in this place, that's for sure. I tuck my hair behind my ear, taking in the stone work that makes the exterior. It looks like a castle with all the stone and masonry gone into it, but it looks like an old mansion from one of the picture books I had as a kid. There are tall pillars all around the outside and the stairs that lead to the door have two tall statues on either side. They're Grecian women hearing helmets and armor with owls perched upon their shoulders.

I lean my bike against the stairs and then make my way up them, taking each stair at a time as I weigh my options. I also notice how quiet everything is. My house is always so loud and busy with people always filling it and coming through. Yet here, I can hear the rustle of the trees, the songs of the birds in them, I can even hear myself breathing. I also see that the windows are all dark, covered by curtains, or perhaps there isn't even light inside.