time we spoke.”
Donnie stopped and stood in a grotesquely comical pose, almost like a circus clown, tapping one foot and a finger to his temple in perfect time. His clothes hung off him, and if it weren’t for the glow in his eyes and the nasty set of teeth he’d grown, I’d have called him Cloony in a heartbeat. But no doubt, this clown had a darkness in his heart far worse than poor old Cloony ever did.
It spoke. “You know, you could be just a little more…grateful. If it weren’t for my presence, you’d have made a lovely snack for some of the local fauna that night. In fact, I’d say that you owe me…your life.”
That last part came out as a slithering hiss, and that I did not like at all. I kept all reaction off my face and played along like I knew I should. “Let’s just cut the shit. What is it you want from me?”
Donnie danced and pirouetted around, and frankly it creeped me the hell out. Then he paused in mid-spin, a virtually impossible feat under the laws of physics as I knew them. He turned his head backward in an owlish manner and looked me dead in the eye. “What does anyone want, Scratch, but to know the truth?”
He plucked a finger off the dismembered arm he was carrying with a loud
snickt-POP!
and then started gnawing on it as if he were a frat boy gnawing on a chicken wing. He gestured at me casually with the finger as drops of blood dribbled and splattered around. “Don’t
you
want to know the truth?”
· · ·
10
NEFARIOUS
I had better things to do than listen to this thing rave and rant, but I was curious as hell as to how it was tracking me and what it wanted. So, I decided to play along. “The truth about what, Donnie—or whatever the hell you are?”
“Have you so soon forgotten? I told you who I am, or at least the names I’ve been known by. Is such information so trivial to you that you should discard it as random nonsense?”
I’d pretty much figured out what it was, but figured I’d play dumb. It never hurt to let a potential enemy underestimate you, and I had no doubts I was going to have to put Donnie down eventually. I shook my head slightly and chuckled, despite the chill the thing’s voice sent up my spine. “I was a little under the weather last we spoke. Enlighten me.”
He waved a hand at me backhandedly, like some Victorian-era dandy waving a handkerchief at a distasteful remark. “Some other time, perhaps. We have other matters to attend to presently.”
I bristled at that. “What’s this ‘we’ shit? You’ve taken over the body of someone who, though I didn’t much like him, was at least someone I might call an acquaintance. And frankly, knowing that he’s still floating around inside there somewhere, like a passenger on a carnival ride through hell, is just about putting me off any notion of aligning our causes; never mind the cannibalism thing.”
The thing that used to be Donnie paused and clucked his tongue. “Tut-tut, Scratch. You assume too much. Your—ahem,
acquaintance
—virtually signed his soul over to me ages before you two met. Of course, I could have had my pick of any number of skin-sacks to ride once I got here, but I like the fat ones, the ones who always stuff their faces so they never have to feel the
hunger
again. As if that could erase their sins.” He sucked off the last bit of skin and meat from the finger bone, then crunched it between his teeth. The sounds echoed off the tile and drywall inside the building.
I held it together and rolled the barrel of my sidearm in small circles. “Get to the point. I have places to be and things to kill, and if you don’t speed it up I’m putting you on that list.”
The thing ignored my threat and raised a grimy finger, one long translucent claw-like nail pointing to the ceiling. “Ah, but that’s just the thing: I already retrieved the package you were searching for.” He pulled a sheaf of papers from a back pocket, wiping them down his pant leg before sliding them
Donnie stopped and stood in a grotesquely comical pose, almost like a circus clown, tapping one foot and a finger to his temple in perfect time. His clothes hung off him, and if it weren’t for the glow in his eyes and the nasty set of teeth he’d grown, I’d have called him Cloony in a heartbeat. But no doubt, this clown had a darkness in his heart far worse than poor old Cloony ever did.
It spoke. “You know, you could be just a little more…grateful. If it weren’t for my presence, you’d have made a lovely snack for some of the local fauna that night. In fact, I’d say that you owe me…your life.”
That last part came out as a slithering hiss, and that I did not like at all. I kept all reaction off my face and played along like I knew I should. “Let’s just cut the shit. What is it you want from me?”
Donnie danced and pirouetted around, and frankly it creeped me the hell out. Then he paused in mid-spin, a virtually impossible feat under the laws of physics as I knew them. He turned his head backward in an owlish manner and looked me dead in the eye. “What does anyone want, Scratch, but to know the truth?”
He plucked a finger off the dismembered arm he was carrying with a loud
snickt-POP!
and then started gnawing on it as if he were a frat boy gnawing on a chicken wing. He gestured at me casually with the finger as drops of blood dribbled and splattered around. “Don’t
you
want to know the truth?”
· · ·
10
NEFARIOUS
I had better things to do than listen to this thing rave and rant, but I was curious as hell as to how it was tracking me and what it wanted. So, I decided to play along. “The truth about what, Donnie—or whatever the hell you are?”
“Have you so soon forgotten? I told you who I am, or at least the names I’ve been known by. Is such information so trivial to you that you should discard it as random nonsense?”
I’d pretty much figured out what it was, but figured I’d play dumb. It never hurt to let a potential enemy underestimate you, and I had no doubts I was going to have to put Donnie down eventually. I shook my head slightly and chuckled, despite the chill the thing’s voice sent up my spine. “I was a little under the weather last we spoke. Enlighten me.”
He waved a hand at me backhandedly, like some Victorian-era dandy waving a handkerchief at a distasteful remark. “Some other time, perhaps. We have other matters to attend to presently.”
I bristled at that. “What’s this ‘we’ shit? You’ve taken over the body of someone who, though I didn’t much like him, was at least someone I might call an acquaintance. And frankly, knowing that he’s still floating around inside there somewhere, like a passenger on a carnival ride through hell, is just about putting me off any notion of aligning our causes; never mind the cannibalism thing.”
The thing that used to be Donnie paused and clucked his tongue. “Tut-tut, Scratch. You assume too much. Your—ahem,
acquaintance
—virtually signed his soul over to me ages before you two met. Of course, I could have had my pick of any number of skin-sacks to ride once I got here, but I like the fat ones, the ones who always stuff their faces so they never have to feel the
hunger
again. As if that could erase their sins.” He sucked off the last bit of skin and meat from the finger bone, then crunched it between his teeth. The sounds echoed off the tile and drywall inside the building.
I held it together and rolled the barrel of my sidearm in small circles. “Get to the point. I have places to be and things to kill, and if you don’t speed it up I’m putting you on that list.”
The thing ignored my threat and raised a grimy finger, one long translucent claw-like nail pointing to the ceiling. “Ah, but that’s just the thing: I already retrieved the package you were searching for.” He pulled a sheaf of papers from a back pocket, wiping them down his pant leg before sliding them
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