Haunted Things

Death from Above (Liz)

There wasn't much that Clyde King P.I. feared. He was, after all, an apex predator: long of teeth, strong of jaw, and very, very large.

The fact that his nerves were twitching as he approached Himmel House for his promised perimeter check was somewhat telling.  Twitchy nerves weren't the same thing as abject fear, but even if it was, Clyde was not ashamed.  He knew that twitchy nerves were a sign that something was out of sorts, a leftover from his days scouring the primeval forest, always hungry, always on the hunt, always hunted. The nerves brought back fond memories. Clyde would have smiled, if he could smile.

As he crept along in the forest outside Himmel House, he considered how long it had been since he had felt anything resembling twitchy nerves. it dawned on him that he hadn't experienced twitchy nerves since his reanimation. Until now, Clyde had forgotten he even had the capacity to feel any nerves at all.

It was tough being a Tyrannosaurus Rex in this post-postmodern world. After Clyde was unfrozen by a team of Russian scientists for his DNA, he discovered a deforested world, enslaved by those tedious biped furry creatures that used to jump up and down and wave fire at him. It both stunned and amazed him that those puny little weak creatures had somehow made it to the top of the food chain. So amazed was he, in fact, that he even allowed them to study him for a time. Of course, this allowed him the opportunity to surreptitiously study them in return. In the end, he remained thoroughly bemused. Man is the sum of all things, huh? Clyde thought it would have been the cockroach. He still wasn't sure it wasn't.

With a sigh so loud it blew the leaves off a nearby oak tree, Clyde continued up the steep hill towards the house in question. The Himmel House was a notorious place filled with notorious people. At least it had been until they had all murdered each other. Although he was an apex predator, Clyde disdained unnecessary violence. He found it distasteful. He also found infidelity and avarice distasteful, but infidelity and avarice were vices that paid his bills. Although judgmental by nature, Clyde forced himself to keep it in check. He needed the money.

Not that his claws were clean. As he stomped towards the perimeter, he remembered how he had left the Russians. It had been so much more violent than it needed to be. Then he had endured the discrimination that came with being a political refugee. That was bad enough, but then there was all the fear mongering that came with being a 9 ton predator. It took a great deal of political maneuvering to even get him to the U.S. After he arrived, he was bombarded with reality show offers and the constant threat of military conscription and vivisection by various corporate entities.

Thanks to the Supreme Court ruling In the Matter of Tyrannosaurus Rex he was finally found to be a person under the law and afforded all rights and privileges of U.S. citizenship. Things eventually settled down. He moved into an abandoned warehouse. Got his P.I. license. Did some skip tracing. Dated around. All in all, it was okay. Still, every now and then he wished he could find a polar ice cap and re-freeze himself. Not that there were any polar ice caps, thank you very much, biped furry creatures.

A chirp, then another, caught his attention. It wasn't a bird's chirping. Since birds were his distant relatives, he found that he could speak most of their languages. No, this chirping wasn't a bird. It was mammalian. That was another thing, how these mammals managed to take everything over. Mammals with their furry coat, their warm blood, and their growing their babies on the inside. Who does that? Who grows babies on the inside? Clyde shuddered, despite himself. So wrong. So very, very wrong.

The chirping continued. Clyde paused and reassessed the area. Although he couldn't really stand straight, he was still able to reach up well above the treeline, which provide him an excellent view of Himmel House itself.  For a moment, it appeared as if the house turned to look back at him, morphing into a screaming skull. Clyde stared, then bared his teeth at it.

Bring it, he thought. I'm a dinosaur.

The chirping grew louder and more obnoxious. Clyde turned; sitting on a branch, facing him, was a squirrel. Clyde King P.I. was surprised. This was the first time he had actually seen a squirrel up close; usually the smaller mammals fled from him in fear. Fascinating, really, he thought, as he noted the similarities between his body and the squirrel's body. The shape of the head, the small arms, the long tail. Clyde wondered why exactly they chose to be herbivores.

"Good afternoon, sir," Clyde greeted with a slight nod. "I'm on my way to Himmel House."

The squirrel chirped at him and sniffed.

"I'm working a job, you see," Clyde explained. "Maybe you could assist. I'd happily pay you in cash, or perhaps an exchange of goods for services if that's your preference."

The squirrel blinked and rubbed its hands together.

"Specifically, I am looking for some of Frances Himmel's DNA," Clyde continued. "A strand of hair would do."

The squirrel chirped and scurried away.

Clyde sighed internally. Such was the way of the herbivore. He turned to continue his way to the house when another squirrel, this one baring its teeth, leaped from an upper branch and onto his nose, scratching and biting furiously.

"Good sir, I must protest," Clyde began, when another squirrel jumped down and started chomping on his head. Soon, from every tree a squirrel came, hurdling itself onto Clyde, biting, scratching, chirping words that Clyde knew now to be obscenities.

Clyde let loose a roar and swept the forest with his tail, but the squirrels remained attached to him, biting, drawing blood. He shook himself in a desperate attempt to loosen their grips, but they only clung to him tighter. The squirrel on his nose hissed a vulgarity at him and swiped a claw at his eye.

Clyde howled in pain and tripped over a tree he had previously uprooted. As he toppled to the ground, his consciousness fading, he thought, It figures.