Once, There was A Library in my Closet

Age of Monsters

Molly yawns in the seat next to me and I sigh unconsciously. We're driving through the abandoned streets of old neighborhoods right now. To give you a picture of what's going on out there, dead cars rot and rust in the streets, and long mounds of god-knows-what just lay there in the open of the neighborhood. Not like any car or potential body is even visible in this dark, though. The night is stretching for so long tonight, and it truly feels like it'll never end. But that's how it's been lately; nights seem to prevail over the days, now. The sun gets darker and darker with each passing week, like it's shrinking. Or worse.

I flick the headlights on and rest my elbow on the open window. Molly flares a startled look at me and lurches to turn them off. She adds a hard punch to my arm for good measure.

"Come on, nobody's been on these roads for months," I say. "It's abandoned."

"You don't know that."

"I could drive much faster with the lights on, you know."

"Well, you can suck it up. We're only supposed to use the lights if we're being chased."

I groan and slow the car's pace. We're on a mission - same mission that we've been getting since this whole mess happened. Save the "Sane." That's what we call people who haven't been taken, eaten, killed, or bound to one of the hellish creatures that stalk the earth these days. 

Sanity 101... A monster can be human, so our jobs can be rather tricky at times. In fact, you would think the monsters to be big, fat, slobbering creatures who roar and eat people, right? Sadly for us, we don't have that luck.

The monsters here are much different.

Molly grunts and points to a sign signaling an intersection in the neighborhood. I take a right and we pull up into the street. All of the houses here are spacious compared to the rest of the neighborhood's; they stretch down into the trees. Molly and I stare at one, knowing it's our stop. There's no candlelight coming out of course, as it should be. 

Molly ties back her silver hair into a long ponytail and we both grab our gear from the back of the seats. My partner was somehow blessed with the cool guns and weapons -- lucky. I'm stuck with a set of so-called torture tools for the more "dire circumstances." Sure, I suppose if the time comes, I'd be the one who busts out the skimpy little thing that'll save someone considered a lost cause. But man, Molly gets to have so much fun with her snipers and stupid machetes.

You know, I hate having "killer" in the job description. We are technically supposed to be rescuing the Sane. But goodness, if we slip up or come too late... Those weapons sure come in handy.

I cut the engine and we quietly shut the doors to the car, taking one long look around the area before making our way to the house. There was supposedly a child who had found a phone in the house and called the StS hotline. When asked for someone older to answer the phone, he said he was the only one able to. It made us both suspicious. It's not exactly common for children to see the signs on the streets and make it back home in one piece to give us a call. Even less common for children to survive this long on their own. Unless they weren't themselves, that is.

We both make it to the back door and let ourselves in. Molly, of course, sweeps the area with the fancy night vision scope on her rifle and beckons me to come inside. We round the hallway corner and peek inside each of the rooms. I try one and immediately feel it rattle on its own. There's a split second between the time that door opens and the moment I practically pummel a bare fist clean across a child's face. 

"Are you here to help me," the boy asked. He looked maybe ten, but his flesh was thin from hunger, it seemed. Molly brushes past me and puts a finger to her lips to hush the boy, then leads him out of the room to where we came. "Wait--"