Taking One to the Chest [https://cdn.midjourney.com/f863aa47-beac-4037-b99a-5206e9721c74/0_1.webp]
Rig…
At the edge of the horizon, light was bruising the darkness with shades of blue and purple when Nana and Mary Lynn pulled into the driveway. They were so exhausted and oblivious that they didn’t notice the small flickering light moving through the house or his motorcycle at the corner. As Nana reached to help Mary retrieved the sullen cats in their carriers, darkness reclaimed the interior of the house.
They were clueless. If he didn’t know better, he would think they were both sheep. Rig waited at the turn into the cul-de-sac, watching the house and them through a small pair of binoculars.
“Shit…” He hissed under his breath and slung his leg off his bike. Dressed in black, he was a shadow on the street. He had a little time until the morning light would steal his ability to fade into the shadows. Rig was NOT supposed to interact with these ladies. That had been made explicitly clear to him in texts.
Fuck his big brother. He tapped the warning signal into his phone and approached the women, who were noisily unloading their car. Whoever was in the house would have to be deaf not to know they were there. The cats were making an unholy racket. Moving along the shadowed edge of the front yards, using the expansive oak trees to hide his passing, Rig headed toward the back of the old lady’s house while the women, one at a time, lugged the carriers up the walk.
If the intruders were there to kill them, he was screwed. He didn’t want to change in this human neighborhood in daylight. Rig carried, but a gun was loud and always drew more attention than he liked. Such a choice could add to their current problems. He picked up his speed.
If the holder of the flickering light was just scouting the house, they’d leave out the back door and avoid being seen. He was surprised they’d lingered in the house until sunrise. That was just stupid and spoke of inexperience. They weren’t Kind, certainly not Wolves.
Thank God for the angry, complaining cats. Their antics kept the women’s focus on the carriers. As the women cooed and cajoled the animals through the slats in the plastic on the porch, Rig slid past the car and down the drive. Nana’s house keys jingled as he slid through the open fence and entered the backyard.
He briefly registered the broken lock on the back door. They’d used a crowbar. The house was older. A credit card would have been less messy. There wasn’t a dead bolt. This intruder wasn’t experienced in entering people’s homes uninvited.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
The man that came bursting out of the back door didn’t fit the image he’d been imagining. Dressed in khakis and a button-down shirt, he looked like he played golf on his off days. Expensive hair cut. The slick bottom of the man’s shoes slid on the damp grass. What the fuck?
Rig was on him in an instant, taking him to the ground. A scream flew out of the pitiful creature. They were almost the same size, but the human under him wasn’t Kind. Rig flipped him over easily. He had brown hair and sallow green eyes. Rig pressed his forearm to the man’s neck. “Who the fuck are you?” Rig hissed, face close to the other man’s. His tan tattooed arm was a stark contrast to the pale white of the man’s skin.
“Oh my God, you’re one of them, aren’t you?” The guy’s eyes went wide, and he had the audacity to look excited. “You can do it, can’t you?”
“I’m the one asking the fucking questions.”
“Your going to bite me, aren’t you?” The nut job had the nerve to turn his head as if he was opening up access to his throat. “Do it. I want you to.”
“You are insane.”
The guy’s eyes sparkled. Was he high or was his mind broken? This creature should definitely be culled from the herd, but he hadn’t been given that order. Holding the strange human to the earth, he rolled him over and fished the guy’s wallet out of his pocket. “You have no idea how much trouble you are in.” The man under him trembled, and if he couldn’t smell the man’s excitement, he would have mistaken it for fear. The way he wasn’t fighting to be free unsettled Rig. Something wasn’t right.
The guy smiled over his shoulder. “I should warn you, I am Lucky.”
Rig heard the back door of the house slam open just before a burning hole opened in his chest. Mary’s practice at the firing range had made her an accurate shot. Rig slapped his gloved hand to the gaping hole of the gunshot exit wound, cursing as the weirdo under him pushed him to the side.
The tainted human waved to the two terrified women on the porch. “Thank you, neighbor. I saw this guy running out of the back of your house on my morning walk.” The guy leaned over him and made sure his body blocked the ladies’ line of sight. He slid his fingers across the blood running in rivulets down his ribs and placed them into his mouth. The guy hissed, his voice so low only Rig could hear him, “Will this work? Does it have to be a bite?”
Rig tried to draw in a breath to call out a warning, but his lungs refused. Fire filled his torso as he tried to get oxygen and failed.
“Told you. Lucky.” The creep turned toward the ladies, faking his innocence. A chameleon. A chimera. The man said, “He is still alive. Call 911. I’ll go get my wife. She is a nurse and can help.” He untangled himself from Rig and stood as blue climbed up the skyline behind him, pushing back the darkness. The man absently wiped at the speckles of blood and meat on his shirt.
Nana called out, “Are you okay?”
The man dusted himself off. “I am, thanks to that fine shooting. Get yourself on your phone. I’ll be right back.” As the break in artist strolled casually across the yard, Rig struggled to catch the spark of change, reaching in his desperation, human yard or not. He’d underestimated the danger, and that kind of mistake was often fatal.
Stunned, Mary whispered, “I shot him. I really did.”
Rig shoved the man’s wallet under his body into the moldering leaves as black dots spread across his vision. He was losing blood fast, feeding the earth.