mirror of https://github.com/nealey/Horrors2
119 lines
3.5 KiB
TeX
119 lines
3.5 KiB
TeX
\chapauth{Madcosby}
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\chapter{Son Of Bavarious}
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Luke had walked these streets so many times, yet tonight they
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seemed so unfamiliar. Clouds gathered ahead, and made the dark even
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darker. Alleys were so dark - black as culture - and the constant
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scurrying of rats and big cockroaches seemed to come from
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everywhere.
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Maybe it was all in my head, Luke Bavarious thought. Maybe I've had
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enough of this job. For tonight was his last night as a cop, and he
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was going to retire. He was the age of three third graders on
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summer vacation.
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Each alley he passed reminded him of his past here on East Dark
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Chill Street. He remembered the time he saved that elderly lady who
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turned out to have a swamp tentacle that attacked him and killed
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his first partner, Jack Dynasty. He saw the mirror store that had
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burned down after his reflection tried to burn down the
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neighborhood.
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Then he saw an alley he had never seen. Or had he? He had walked
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these streets so many times he was shocked. The cold grasp of
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surprise gripped his spine like the stickyness of masking tape on
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soft paper. A figure, cloaked in darkness, stood at the end of the
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alley. He pointed at Luke.
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``Walk away{\ldots} '' it said, in a voice that made Luke's heart skip a
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beat like a record player in the back of an off-road van. Luke's
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adam's apple swung like a vertical pendelum, ``Come out and let me
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see you.''
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The shadow screamed, ``You'll have to kill me first!'', and reached
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into his long trenchcoat that he had been wearing all this time and
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pulled out a Colt 45 Shotgun.
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Luke didn't hesitate. Chill Street had taught him wasting a second
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could mean your life. So he pulled out his Beretta, which was also
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retiring tonight. He pulled the trigger so fast, and six bullets
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vomitted from the barrel.
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One struck the shadowy figure in the arm, by the elbow. But the
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creepy shadow did not fall.
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``Nice try. But you can't kill what isn't there!'' And with that, the
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shadowy figure was gone.
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Suddenly, it was raining. And more suddenly, Luke felt a wound in
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his arm, right where he shot the creature. Blood oozed from his arm
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like mucus from a child with a cold from too many snowball fights.
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Luke fell to the ground, clutching the wound.
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The shadow emerged once again, and stood above Bavarious. In the
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light, Luke could see clearly that the monster had the same
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features as he: tall, well built like he worked out at a gym twice
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a week, and a moustache. A dark moustache. But his murderer was
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younger, like a child who was probably a fourth grader. It was like
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looking in the mirror. A mirror of pain and agony, a place where no
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one should see their reflection without remembering the pain of
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losing a puppy or maybe a grandfather if youre older.
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Now, without the echo of the alley, the doppleganger's voice was
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not muddled by the darkness and sewers of the alley.``I cant let you
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retire, Luke. I'm taking your job.'' It sounded to Luke like he was
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listening to his own message on an answering machine. It was his
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voice.
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Luke turned cold. This was the end. He knew it. He wished he could
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hold his wife one more time; he wished he could scream at the top
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of his lungs and make the monster go away. But instead, he grabbed
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his badge, and his trusty Berreta, and handed them to his killer.
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It was time to pass the torch to a younger generation of cops.
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That's what tonight was all about, Luke finally understood. The
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future of law enforcement was children.
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``Thank you, father.'' And with that, the apparation disappeared.
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Suddenly, Luke was sobbing.
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Then he was dead. East Dark Chill Street was his tomb.
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