Monsters

He drove this stretch only after.  The Blakely farm was where he needed to go so he could collect the courage to return from bliss.  He smoked and stared, allowing the road lead him back to a life he hated.  But he had to maintain appearances if he wanted to keep doing what made him truly happy.  Hunting and killing people was frowned upon as a hobby.  He didn't speed or drive erratically because he had his "toy box" in the back and he didn't want to get pulled over.  No.  He did what he had to for now; obey the law.  He had been in the woods with his latest toy and now he had to go back.  He needed those play things for the safety of those who shared his house. He had to demolish another family to protect his own and keep them alive.  If not, he'd have buried them long ago.  He drove back to kiss a wife he loathed and pretend to enjoy child he'd wished he'd never made.  He cast the cigarette butt out the window, swallowing stale smoke and the pain of stepping back into society.  His mind soothed him by thinking nothing.

The officer watched the cars.  He rarely had to make them stop.  He sat here tucked away in a small alcove on an old forgotten road that lead out to the Blakely farm; abandoned and alone.  There were smaller access roads spindling off that lead to secret fishing spots and sacred hunting grounds. Off-trail hikers and locals heading to small neighboring towns were the folks who traveled this patch.  Hell, he knew most of them and often recognized their cars.  But right now, to be honest, his mind was not at work. He cared not for speeders or teenagers who played their music too loud.  He had bigger things weighing on his mind and in his heart.  The truck prattled by and the driver chucked a cigarette butt out the window.

"Litterbug" the officer sighed and reached up to put the car in gear.  But he just didn't have the energy.  He sank back and wiped his exhausted face.  He checked with dispatch again.  No news.  He bit at his fingernails and stared vacantly out the window.  Thirty-six hours since his daughter had gone missing.  Time was running out and odds were quickly falling out of their favor.

His daughter had gone missing after school let out on Tuesday.  She had been yanked off the street as she sauntered home in new Dora light up sneakers and a baby blue and white striped wind breaker, as she did every day; in broad daylight, through the middle of town.  No one saw a damn thing.  No one recalled hearing her scream, kick, or fight as he'd always taught her; made her pinky -swear she would always do if that kind of danger ever came to her.  He blinked back the tears and fear.  He tried to remain objective, reviewing the case facts;  solve it like any other task he'd been given as an officer here.  He was failing.  The emptiness was choking and the exasperation to find her was cloying at him like the stink of an outhouse in summer.  Where was she?  Who took her? He prayed she was alive; no matter how battered and scared, that she was at least alive. Unable to stand it any longer he got out of his car and paced around the small hidden space.  He scolded the sky and yelled at the ground.  He thought about the facts until his brain ached. He walked for miles in that little tiny alcove, glaring at the sun, sadistically shining too brightly.  There should be no sun; not until his daughter was returned safely ; happily home.  He kicked at the ground, glowered at it, warning it not to be hiding his baby in there somewhere.  He toed the cigarette butt cast aside by the driver.  Again and again.  The driver.  He looked around and saw several butts.  All the same brand.  The same driver.  Grasping at straws but unable to help himself, he fetched gloves from his car and puts several in a Ziploc.  Lacey would process them;  just in case.  He was far from the middle of town and school and the place where is little girl was.. but just in case...

The driver pulled into town and headed down his street suppressing the anger and nausea that were already warming his stomach.  The man emerged from his truck , smoothed his shirt and gave himself a once-over before he disappeared into his house.  Disappeared into the world. The people inside should be safe for a while.  They didn't know it, but he would be able to fake it for a bit; pretending to be a loving husband and father.  

A little girl appeared, rubbing her eyes.  In a small whimpered voice that grated inside his brain like a scratch on a bad sunburn, she told him that one of her classmates is missing.  The woman who sleeps next to him wrings her worried hands in a dish towel holding a cup.  They want comfort and reassurance from him.  He looks at the floor and thinks.  He wipes the tiny smile of satisfaction from his mouth.  They think he is distraught.  

" It's better than being you." he confesses and shakes his head, fighting the tingle of desire to choke the little girl and bash the woman in the mouth. He asks what's for dinner, standing tall and strong before them.  A monster unseen.  They are grateful for his authority and strength, scurrying about to make the day, the house and their life look normal again.  He lets them.  Just like every day until he needs a new toy.

 The monster goes to work.  He endures back slapping and bad jokes.  He tolerates requests from his boss and fellow workers.  He goes home to eat dinners made by the woman and stares blankly at pieces of paper where the child has scribbled in crayon.  He holds a tight smile and says the right words.  Inside his mouth waters for a new toy.  His mind changes channels to daydream of the delicious smell of fear, the sound of begging and the sweet metallic smell as their lives drain into the ground and their bodies grow limp.  He sits at his desk and finds comfort. but he will have to find a new toy soon.  He will not be able to make it so long as last time.  Last time was a rushed job that he didn't enjoy as much. Everyone was looking for her ~ he must have picked the wrong toy.  Must have belonged to an official or something.  This time he would try to be more careful and study it longer to be more sure before claiming his prize.  he didn't want anyone to spoil his fun again.  He might be able to revisit the playground to buy some time before another toy was found.


The days goes by and the officer drifts slowly toward insanity.  There is nothing.  No clothing, no blood, no trail the dogs can find.  He stands on his porch and crunches a pop can.  He would rather drain a bottle of Jack, but because he wants it, he won't take it.  He is trying to be strong enough for his wife and their other children.  An older sister and a younger brother.  He avoids their red, swollen eyes.  He holds them when they come, open-armed and sad.  He's sad too, but feels there is nowhere to go.  No one to catch him as he falls from hope and the happy life interrupted.  His cell shrieks and he snatches it, almost tossing it out into the yard.  He juggles and struggles to catch it like a wiggly fish.  His children cover their mouths to stifle the giggles because there is no room for laughter or happiness here.  Not now.  Not until their sister comes home.  

The news almost steals his breath from his chest.  He sinks to the rocking chair saved for sunsets and hand holding; bed time stories and playful swats as children are reminded to "git to bed" because it's a school day tomorrow.  The DNA matches other evidence at different crime scenes in twelve other cases.  Twelve?  Twelve other families are suffering like he is?  Twelve babies stolen and destroyed? He chokes the phone in his hand at the next sentence which is: There is no ID.  They have no name.  And in that instant, his heart soars because HE knows.  He has seen ... the driver of the truck.  That is the monster he seeks; that he will find and vanquish.  He nods solemnly and clicks off.  The family comes cautiously because the energy around him is electric.  He is panting and sweaty.  Staring out across the lawn, he barely feels the touch of his wife, the tiny hands on his knees nor does he hear the whisper

"What is it?"

"Nothing we can use.  Just that he's done it before.  There are others matching some evidence..." he stops himself from telling them more.  He looks up to Heaven and asks for guidance.
It would be two weeks of incessant sitting in that God-forsaken alcove waiting for that fucking truck.  He sat and watched his eyes burning and dry from lack of blinking but he couldn't stop looking, he couldn't risk not seeing.  He had stared up at the sky and asked for answers and for guidance.  He searched his soul and found a solution he could live with.  The truck ambled up the road and the driver chucked a butt.  He didn't see the sedan pulled back in the alcove.  The officer's heart leaped into his throat, his hands clutching the wheel.  He talked to himself and told himself to slowly pull out and not get too close.  He saw the tag and muttered it over and over.  He turned off one of the fingerling roads and then headed home to put it all together.  When he at last saw the face of the monster he was certain had killed his little girl, he stared long and hard memorizing every curve, wrinkle and whisker.  He drank heavily from another pop can as he chugged it like the jack he wished it were.  Then he got up.

No one worried or questioned his appearance at the school.  He had children who attended.  People smiled and nodded.  It was all he could do to mirror them.  He hoped they did not notice his clenched fists and stiff walk.  He scoured the yard in search of what he was looking for.  When he found it, there was a warmth that tingled in each extremity.  His body came alive and he felt a weakness in his knees as if he were going on a first date.  The approach was swift.  The conversation was little but satisfactory, resulting in  a tiny hand in his.  His smile for the first time in a long time was genuine.  No one thought twice or saw them leave.  The duo was invisible in the crowd of moms and dads and the end of a busy school day.

The cell phone shrieked and startled him.  He answered to the panicked screams and wales of a woman who's been dealt an awful blow.  He nodded, though why, he was unsure.  He reassured, soothed and clicked off.  He silently got into the vehicle and drove back to the house to take care of what he could.

He knew where to go afterward.

The two men looked at each other; a young girl in the middle.  One man lit up a cigarette and smiled.  Pleased with the situation;.  It was a surprise but not an unwelcome one. The other stood stock still and glared at the man who'd stolen his baby.  Now it was his turn to suffer and wonder.  Would she survive?  Who would lose what?  He'd imagined many scenarios but the smile on the monster's face wasn't one.  He'd wanted there to be tears and begging.  He'd wanted to see fear and smell regret as this monster's  own daughter stood before him with a future in the balance.  But what he saw was glee and what he felt was a charge of excitement.  He hadn't wanted it to be so cold.  He had hoped for emotion but not this one.  He blinked and became focused again.  He pulled the little girl to him and bent down.  He whispered into her ear.  She nodded and sobbed.  Her pants were wet from fear.  For a moment, the officer felt bad for doing this to her.  But then he looked up and it dissolved.  He let go of her arm and she rushed to the monster she called "Daddy" and clutched his leg.  She clawed and cried demanding attention.  The monster looked at her with detached curiosity.  She was in his playground and that made her a toy.  His mind could not bend back to his "other life." His body cried out for satiation.  It wanted a toy.  It needed to play.  He pulled her back to see her face.  it was blank, featureless to him.  This made it all right.  It made it easy.  

She thought he was going to pick her up and she wiped at her face.  Her hands and arms opened, tiny fingers wiggling greedily to receive what she thought would be a hug from her father.  She couldn't understand why he wasn't hugging her.   She didn't understand why his hands were around her throat.  She couldn't understand why her air was gone or why her body was fiery and hot.  She couldn't utter the words to beg him to stop and hold her.  She couldn't comprehend that he wasn't going to be nice and be her daddy.  He was hurting her.

The bang was loud.  There was a hot spray and a stink that threatened to get into her mouth if she didn't scowl and pinch her eyes shut. She and Daddy fell to the ground.  Then the man who took her from the school was holding her like her daddy should have.  He said the words she wanted to hear "It's all right Honey.  I'm here." and she cried.  She held him and she called him Daddy.  He hugged her, stroking her hair unaware that her mother was already dead.  

He didn't know he was going to get his little girl back....


I ask you, who is the monster? Heehee. I liked this one although I struggled for a long time with it~ it's not perfect, but I still get the chills when I read it and in the end...it's all about me. :)

Thank you for stoppin in.  Next time, maybe we'll chat a bit longer.