Transgression (Prequel #1)

19 - Consequences

A burning wick of hatred and regret scathed across his flesh with every passing second. A bolstering rumble in his chest was caged only by the pressure this demon child excreted. With a deep haggard breath, Alex balled a fist and attempted to stand.

"Matt, you motherfucker what do you want from me!?" He screamed, taking a faltering step forward.

TJ glanced at him, surprised. "You know this dude?"

Alex didn't respond. His teeth were crammed shut and saliva began to pool on his tongue. Perspiring with latent hatred, he lost all sight of where he was and what he was doing. Consumed by a desire to crush this kid for the pain he had caused and rid himself of all the nightmares, all the fear.

"Matt? Matt's dead." The figure declared with pleasure.

Flicking his head side to side, the hood was rustled back; revealing himself entirely for what he was. Speechless, TJ looked to Alex who returned his fearful eyes with the same. The kids' skin was completely grey, both eyes were black as the deepest void with illuminated purple iris'. The gaze he offered was that of a corpse; not entirely centered and lazily open, both eyeballs appeared partially deflated.

"Dead?" Alex coughed.

"Yeah." He said casually, with a smile.

His smile was cathartic; wide with flared gums like a ravenous mutt. The genuine blissful smile and vacant eyes was the catalyst to many horrific visions bestowed upon anyone he came across. His profound cheekbones accented the extreme gaunt in his face, solidifying the appearance of death and rot; while his grey, dry lips were brooding with hunger. A mess of short glistening black hair dangled choppily above his brow line and stood randomly on end.

"The idiot and the fat one too. Left them in their parents' driveways. . . well, whatever I didn't eat." His words cast a heavy silence. The wind, the distant cars and the birds squawking above; all went ghastly quiet. He perked up and reached into his left pocket, looking rather excited.

"I kept this as a souvenir." He smiled. In his palm, outstretched and angled for them to see, was a slightly yellow blood-stained tooth and what looked like a fingernail. "I like to collect things." Each sharp letter was enunciated, followed by tiny pauses between.

Horrified, Alex tried processing this monsters nonchalant display of their violent ends; passed off as mere collectables. . . trophies.

"They. . . they were kids." His eyes expanded, recalling their burdened faces.

"Oh, they suffered. Especially the fat one, I fucking hated him." His eyes were glowing intensely, soaking in their fear.

"Why are you telling me this? What do you want?"

His disturbingly docile voice carried itself across the fifty-foot gap with ease. "Honestly, I'm biding time. Trying to figure out what piece I want to take from each of you. So hard to choose sometimes."

"W-we don't want no trouble. Just go." TJ pleaded, keeping one hand raised as a sign of peace while the other remained in his sweater pocket.

He ignored the plea, with a sigh he focused on Alex. "That knife was a lucky shot. It won't happen again. I made sure of that."

Alex's composure was mostly regained, though the dizziness and wretch in his gut was prominent.

He swallowed hard, "If Matt's dead. . . Who does that make you?"

He got this reminiscent look on his face, almost nostalgic. "The entire time I was with that druggie, he never once called me by my name. Always demon, freak and beast. Silly taunts and gestures of unrequited love." He giggled, "It's so easy to pronounce to, I don't know what his problem was. It's Ira."