how the kid was busting my chops. "Tiffany, that's impossible."
" Why is it impossible?" she asked, her voice trembling on the verge of tears. "Just because he is a monster doesn't mean he has to be a monster! You're a good monster, aren't you?"
I opened my mouth, but could not find anything to say.
"I knew you didn't want to hurt me," Tiffany said. "Fiona thought you wanted to eat me.
But I knew you were different. I don't know why, but I just did."
I cocked my head and dropped my vision into the Pretender spectrum. There was a faint glimmer of intuition about the child's head; not enough to qualify as a sixth sense, but enough to be of use in tight situations. I wondered if she had been born with it, or whether her ordeal had forced its development.
I turned and left the bedroom, stepping over the cooling bodies of mother and son, and
Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer ( http://www.novapdf.com ) entered the combination living room and kitchen. Tiffany's father was curled up in the middle of the floor in a fetal position, muttering to himself under his breath as he rocked back and forth. He lifted his head upon hearing my footsteps.
"Fiona —?" he whispered hoarsely.
I lifted Tiffany's father by the collar of his shirt and carried him into the bedroom like a kitten. Upon seeing the body of his second wife splayed in a slowly expanding pool of her own blood his entire body began to shake.
"Thank God" he sobbed. "Thank God, thank God..."
I let go of him and he staggered for a second, then regained his footing. I didn't know how much longer Tiffany's father had to go, but at least he had enough sanity left to rejoice over his captor's demise.
"Do you have family elsewhere?"
Tiffany's father nodded weakly. "Yes. Back in Kentucky."
I reached into the inner breast pocket of my jacket and removed the thick fold of hundred dollar bills I kept there for emergencies. "Take this. Pack what you can in two suitcases and simply go. Don't worry about the cops. There's no way in hell the authorities are going to pursue this, believe me. Besides, homicide only applies to human beings. Take Tiffany and the baby and walk away like this never happened.
Tiffany's father shot a fearful look at Cully, who promptly bared his little milk fangs and growled. Tiffany's father looked back at me.
"Are you sure?"
I glanced at the snarling ogre whelp, then at Tiffany's tear-stained face.
"Family is family. Whatever else he might be, he's still your son, " I lied.
With that I turned my back on Tiffany, her father, and Cully and walked out of the apartment and their lives. I had done what I could, now it was up to them to claim whatever destiny had in store for them. I have not seen or heard from them since. Nor do I expect to.
Every now and again, though, I wonder whether I made a mistake not destroying the whelp when I had the chance. But then I remember how the ogre smiled and cooed in Tiffany's arms, and the love that burned in her eyes for the monstrous infant she had claimed as kin, and my doubts are set aside.
There is a character from one of the old Oz books called The Hungry Tiger. Like his companion, The Cowardly Lion, he was a most uncommon talking beast. Although The Hungry Tiger longed to eat fat babies, and even drooled when he thought about it, his conscience would not allow him to do such a horrid thing. He was a beast who often displayed more humanity than the sons of Adam and the daughters of Eve who surrounded him. There is a lesson in that.
There is no telling what role nature plays over nurture in human families, much less those of ogres. If it turns out I made the wrong decision, then Tiffany and her father shall no doubt pay with their lives, if they have not done so already. But if it turns out I made the right decision...well, the world can stand a few more tender-hearted tigers.
VAMPIRE KING OF THE GOTH CHICKS
The Red Raven is a real scum-pit. The only thing marking it as a
" Why is it impossible?" she asked, her voice trembling on the verge of tears. "Just because he is a monster doesn't mean he has to be a monster! You're a good monster, aren't you?"
I opened my mouth, but could not find anything to say.
"I knew you didn't want to hurt me," Tiffany said. "Fiona thought you wanted to eat me.
But I knew you were different. I don't know why, but I just did."
I cocked my head and dropped my vision into the Pretender spectrum. There was a faint glimmer of intuition about the child's head; not enough to qualify as a sixth sense, but enough to be of use in tight situations. I wondered if she had been born with it, or whether her ordeal had forced its development.
I turned and left the bedroom, stepping over the cooling bodies of mother and son, and
Create PDF files without this message by purchasing novaPDF printer ( http://www.novapdf.com ) entered the combination living room and kitchen. Tiffany's father was curled up in the middle of the floor in a fetal position, muttering to himself under his breath as he rocked back and forth. He lifted his head upon hearing my footsteps.
"Fiona —?" he whispered hoarsely.
I lifted Tiffany's father by the collar of his shirt and carried him into the bedroom like a kitten. Upon seeing the body of his second wife splayed in a slowly expanding pool of her own blood his entire body began to shake.
"Thank God" he sobbed. "Thank God, thank God..."
I let go of him and he staggered for a second, then regained his footing. I didn't know how much longer Tiffany's father had to go, but at least he had enough sanity left to rejoice over his captor's demise.
"Do you have family elsewhere?"
Tiffany's father nodded weakly. "Yes. Back in Kentucky."
I reached into the inner breast pocket of my jacket and removed the thick fold of hundred dollar bills I kept there for emergencies. "Take this. Pack what you can in two suitcases and simply go. Don't worry about the cops. There's no way in hell the authorities are going to pursue this, believe me. Besides, homicide only applies to human beings. Take Tiffany and the baby and walk away like this never happened.
Tiffany's father shot a fearful look at Cully, who promptly bared his little milk fangs and growled. Tiffany's father looked back at me.
"Are you sure?"
I glanced at the snarling ogre whelp, then at Tiffany's tear-stained face.
"Family is family. Whatever else he might be, he's still your son, " I lied.
With that I turned my back on Tiffany, her father, and Cully and walked out of the apartment and their lives. I had done what I could, now it was up to them to claim whatever destiny had in store for them. I have not seen or heard from them since. Nor do I expect to.
Every now and again, though, I wonder whether I made a mistake not destroying the whelp when I had the chance. But then I remember how the ogre smiled and cooed in Tiffany's arms, and the love that burned in her eyes for the monstrous infant she had claimed as kin, and my doubts are set aside.
There is a character from one of the old Oz books called The Hungry Tiger. Like his companion, The Cowardly Lion, he was a most uncommon talking beast. Although The Hungry Tiger longed to eat fat babies, and even drooled when he thought about it, his conscience would not allow him to do such a horrid thing. He was a beast who often displayed more humanity than the sons of Adam and the daughters of Eve who surrounded him. There is a lesson in that.
There is no telling what role nature plays over nurture in human families, much less those of ogres. If it turns out I made the wrong decision, then Tiffany and her father shall no doubt pay with their lives, if they have not done so already. But if it turns out I made the right decision...well, the world can stand a few more tender-hearted tigers.
VAMPIRE KING OF THE GOTH CHICKS
The Red Raven is a real scum-pit. The only thing marking it as a
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