He bit into the filthy hand clutching his mouth and the thing laughed. He watched the other hand, inside his stomach, moving around. He could feel it moving and he felt ice cold inside and suddenly the hand stopped.
The man was pulling something out of him, and Holloway saw it was his intestines. The thing smiled that hideous smile, removed the hand from the investigator’s mouth and sank his putrid teeth in the mess of entrails, sucking them into his mouth like spaghetti.
Holloway threw up on himself and tried to back away as the creature kept eating his intestines, slowly working his way up to the opening in his stomach.
“Get the fuck off me!” he screamed. “Stop!”
The pain was strong and hard now, coming at him like a shotgun slug, knocking him flat to the ground. The pain was too intense. He wanted to live, he didn’t want this.
His hands were clutching the soil and his legs were convulsing under the huge man slowly crawling to his stomach, slowly consuming his intestines.
Holloway screamed one last time. He watched the thing spit out his intestines and lift himself up. He watched the thing lower himself over his face, his own blood dripping from its face, splattering him on the head.
Holloway felt the teeth on his throat and a pressure like a vice. He looked at the sky.
#
A red truck passed by and came to a sudden stop.
“You alright?” an old man asked, stepping out his truck.
The young man nodded his head.
“You all covered in blood! You sure you alright?”
The youth nodded his head.
The old man walked over to him. “Son, you don’t look good at all. Were you in a wreck or something?”
The youth nodded his head.
The old man pushed his glasses back up on his nose. He could barely see through them anymore. It was a wonder he drove as well as he did. That boy sure smelled like something awful, and he figured it was the blood smelling.
“Son, you want a ride to town?”
The young man nodded his head.
“Well, then let’s get you to the hospital.”
The old man walked the bloodied youth to his truck and opened the passenger door for him. The young man got in and the old man slammed the door.
“Don’t you worry a damned bit. We gonna get you town.” The old man ran around to the driver’s side and hopped in. He turned the ignition, the engine turned over, and he took off in his old truck.
The red clay road was dry and a fine red dust was spitting in the air behind the truck as it tore across the dirt road and cotton fields.
“Boy, you know you ain’t got no shoes on,” the old man observed. “What’s your name anyway?”
The youth looked at the old man and said the only thing he’d ever really learned to say. Through broken, rotten brown teeth and a heavy tongue that ran across his lower lip he said his name in a low gargling voice that sounded like a drowning man.
“Bad Billy? What the hell kind of name is that?”
Bad Billy smiled and looked out the front window. He’d never been in a vehicle before and the fast movement was astonishing. He suddenly gasped in surprise as he saw the roof of the tallest building in town through the pine trees in the distance. He’d never seen anything like that. He’d never seen anything like that at all.
Part Two: Tales of Experience
Bells chimed as the door opened, and Joseph Snider sneered from his seat in the barber’s chair. “Who the hell are you fat boy, and why you got blood on you?”
The barber lifted his scissors and backed away from Snider.
“You hear me talking to you motherfucker?” Snider said. He flung the black cape off his body and revealed a navy police dress uniform. The badge gleamed under the fluorescent lighting.
Snider stood up and rested his left hand on the plastic holster of his Glock.
“Why you bleeding? Huh? You ain’t gonna talk to me?”
Bad Billy looked past Snider where a hideous man stood in front of a door. His heart pounded, and he could feel sweat trickling down his forehead.
“I’m going to have to bring your ass in if you don’t talk to me.” Snider aimed the pistol.
Billy’s eyes remained locked on the man in front of the door who was covered in blood as he backed away. The bad man backed away too.
“Damn you’re ugly. You smell so bad my nose hurts,” Snider said. “You need to put your hands up nice and slow, baby doll.”
Billy turned his head to Snider. “Billy,” he said. “Billy.”
“Billy?”
Bad Billy looked away from Snider at the man standing by the door. He frowned as he watched the back of Snider’s head get closer to the man. Billy lifted his arm. The man did the same thing.
Something clicked in Bad Billy’s mind. His dull eyes shined and fizzled out and he gasped. The man who frightened him. The man who made him afraid. He was the bad man.
Snider had the Glock an inch away from Billy’s face. “I told you to raise your hands. Fat boy, you sweating like a whore in church”
Billy turned to Snider and stared.
“I will shoot your ass dead motherfucker! I said raise those hands!”
The yelling hurt his right ear—the hole where his left ear used to be did nothing but ring—and he snarled.
Snider reached for the mike on his shoulder and keyed it. “Central, this is Officer Snider. I’ve got a situation down here at old Snoopy’s. Requesting backup.”
10-4, the radio hissed.
“Now, you just stay right there, or I’m going to shoot. You understand?”
Billy shot his left hand up and slapped the pistol from the cop. The Glock hit the floor and slid about a yard.
Snider went for the gun and Billy sent a swift kick to his ribs.
“Shit! Don’t hurt me. I’m stopping.” Snider lowered his head to the floor and put his hands on top of his head.
Billy grabbed the pistol and walked to the mirror. The closer he got, the more he grimaced. He touched the smooth glass and released a roar from somewhere deep inside. He lifted his hand and punched hard at the hideous face in the mirror. Shards of glass rained down, and he turned back to the entrance, blood dripping from his knuckles.
Snider watched the abomination waddle to the door. He must have weighed half a ton. He couldn’t have stood more than five feet either. He was a huge sonofabitch. But he was small at the same time.
The door opened, bells chimed and Billy was gone.
“Snoopy!” Snider said, lifting himself from the floor. “You got any guns?”
The barber, hiding behind the counter, stood up and nodded. “Got a shotgun.”
“Let me see it.”
Snoopy bent down and pulled out a Remington .10 gauge pump action. He handed it to Snider and Snider whistled.
“This’ll do just fine, Snoopy. Is she loaded?”
“Sure is. Just give her a pump, Joe.”
“I’m taking that sonofabitch out, Snoopy. He’s too dangerous.”
Snider opened the door and stepped out into the sunlight. The morning was cool, and the sky was clear. He looked around and saw no signs of the monster. He descended the stairs, his feet touched the ground and he pulled out the key to his cruiser.
Suddenly, he felt his legs leave him and his nose and chin slapped the red clay and his face bounced off the ground. Snider lifted his head and blood spurted from the broken nose.
“What the fuck?” Snider dug his hands into the soil and kicked as hard as he could. He felt the grip around his ankles tighten. He felt the earth moving under him. He saw the shotgun resting on the ground and reached for it. He couldn’t reach it, and he kicked again. He realized what was happening. He was being dragged under the barber shop.
“Help me!” Snider screamed. “Help me!”
He watched the bank across the street disappear as his head went underneath the building. The bright morning light faded.
Snider felt intense pressure and a s
earing pain formed in the back of his neck. He kicked his feet and realized he could move. He turned around and saw Billy chewing something in the dim light above him.
The pain at the back of his neck was intense, white hot, and he reached for the back of his neck. His fingers outlined a crater where a chunk of meat had been ripped away. He tried to scream and realized he had never stopped screaming. He brought his hand around and could smell his blood on it.
Billy swallowed, and his head shot down like a striking snake. Snider felt needles puncturing his skin and felt a sharp pain around his Adam’s apple. He watched Billy’s massive pit bull head lift and blood rained down onto his face and into his eyes. He tried to scream but could only gargle. Air hissed out through the hole in his throat where hundreds of blood bubbles were boiling.
Billy put his face close to Snider’s. Their noses touched. He grinned. And then he ate.
#
Avery Police Chief Clyde Snider listened to Snoopy describe the stranger and his son, but he heard nothing.
“He asked for my shotgun, and I tossed it to him. He pumped it and said he was going to handle the situation.”
“You heard any gunfire?”
“Not a sound.”
Chief glanced around the barber shop and his eyes stopped for a third time on the broken mirror. “He punched it with his bare hand?”
“Chief, he seemed to me like a crazy sumbitch. He was a muttering something to himself the whole time your son was talkin. He looked damn right mean at my mirror. Face got all red and the veins in his neck just popped out. I saw him from around the counter. Can’t blame him too much though. If I was that ugly, I’d of punched the damned mirror too.”
Chief nodded and ran a hand through his hair. He thought about the shards of glass on the floor. He thought about his son. He turned and walked out the door.
The morning sky was a deep blue and the sun hurt his eyes. He scanned the dirt parking lot and a glint of light to his left immediately caught his attention. Snoopy’s shotgun.
He ran down the stairs and bent down to the weapon. A gust of wind sent a dust cloud by. There was an unusual pattern in the dirt. Something had been dragged underneath the barbershop. He also noticed four narrow vertical marks about six inches from the gun and refused to believe what they screamed to him.
Hell no. Those aren’t claw marks.
Chief picked up the weapon, and he peered into the darkness. He saw a head of hair—cropped short—and two arms with two hands resting on the cold red clay.
He got on his belly and slid over the dirt and up under the building. His hand reached out and grabbed the body’s hand; it was cold as ice in his calloused palm. The hand looked just like his. He pushed himself up to the head and peered down at the face, hoping this was someone else.
A grinning, crimson skull with eyeballs pooled in blood stared back. There was no face to see. It had been ripped clean off like a mask.
Chief jerked his head back and felt a massive tremor pass through his body. He let out a breath and felt as if he’d been punched in the gut. He tried to breath but couldn’t. He ran his hand over the skull and realized there were no eyelids to close.
He couldn’t even give his son the respect of closing his eyes. Tears clouded his vision as he thought about how his son resembled his dead wife. It was all he had left of her. And it had been ripped away from him.
Chief dragged his boy to the light and hoisted the dead weight over his shoulder. He ran to the squad car and lowered it onto the backseat. He jumped in his cruiser and slammed the door. He took off like a bullet down the silent street.
There was a torrent of emotions flooding through his head, and he yelled and pounded the ceiling of his car. The trees and houses blended together and melted away as the engine roared across the asphalt.
“Motherfucker!” he said.
He flew into the police station parking lot and jumped out of the car, leaving the door wide open. He tore into the building, his ring of keys gleaming in his hand. He flipped through them in a rage induced stupor and found the key to the gun box.
“Good morning, Chief.”
He walked by his officer without a glance or an acknowledgement and entered the back room where he unlocked the gun cabinet. He pulled out a Smith and Wesson .44 Magnum and grabbed two boxes of ammunition.
The officer who has greeted him was standing in the doorway, a puzzled look on his face.
“Chief, what you doing with that Dirty Harry gun?”
“I’m going hunting.”
“Sir, we got a situation. A fellow came in about ten minutes ago and said his nephew killed the sheriff of Purdy County.”
Chief looked at the officer and frowned.
“Sir, he smells like he’s drunker than Hell. I wouldn’t believe a word of his bullshit.”
“What did he say?”
“Well, according to him, his nephew ate the sheriff, two deputies and his niece.”
Chief could feel the blood rushing to his head. “Take me to him.”
In the interrogation room, an old man sat smoking a cigarette. He looked peaceful.
“Give me your name,” Chief said, sitting down at the table.
“Ethan Lee.”
“What does your nephew look like?”
“He’s a big one, that boy. About the size of a black bear. He short though.”
Chief nodded. “Get up. You’re coming with me.”
Ethan looked puzzle. He stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray. “I ain’t done a damned thing. I ain’t goin nowhere.”
Chief’s fist smashed his face and his head bounced off the floor, and his legs flailed from his chair as he looked up at the fluorescent lights.
Chief rubbed his knuckles. “Get up right now, or I’ll beat your sorry ass to death.”
They walked out of the police station and headed to the cruiser. Ethan reached for the door handle and stopped.
“What in the hell is that in the back of you car, man?”
Chief aimed the .44 at him. “Get in the fucking car and don’t say another word.”
Ethan nodded his head and closed the door behind him.
Chief backed out of the parking lot and onto the street.
“That’s my son back there. Your nephew killed him.”
“You gonna kill me?” Ethan said. His eyes were wild and blood shot and sweat ran in rivulets down his forehead.
“That depends on how much you want to tell me about your nephew.”
Ethan pulled a flask out of his pants pocket and took a long drink. “That boy’s pure fuckin evil. I tried to kill him a while back. Don’t know where he is right now, but I tell you now it won’t be too long for we find out. That fat fucker don’t hide law dog. He’ll probably kill real soon.”
“Throw that flask out the window.”
Ethan kept drinking and smiled. “Now, why would you make me do somethin like that? Let me tell you somethin. When I'm seein double and my head is rollin from one shoulder to the other and the world begins to spin, that's when things clear up and I can see beyond this hazy mist of bullshit we live in.”
“Drink all you want motherfucker. I don’t give a shit. But know this. Your nephew’s going to be dead by dawn.”
#
His eyes narrowed as he watched the couple from his secret place in the Hawthorn bushes. The only other female he had ever seen had been his Momma, so this creature intrigued him.
“Did you hear something?” the female said.
“Hell naw, baby!” the man said. He slid his hands around her shoulders and leaned forward on the blanket.
Billy watched the man caress the female’s back and kiss her on the lips. He watched her long, blond hair flowing over her slender shoulders, lightly blowing in the breeze.
Billy pushed the branches forward and stepped into the clearing. His labored breathing penetrated the humid air.
The girl saw him first and started screaming, punching on her boyfriend.
The man
turned his head and Billy ran full force toward him, howling as he came. A putrid, decomposing odor filled the air, and he ran like a demon trying to escape the fires of hell.
A huge hand closed on the man’s throat, and the man slapped weakly at the powerful forearm. The man tried to stand up, but Billy held him to the ground.
The girl also tried to flee, but Billy’s free hand grabbed her ankle and held it in a vice grip.
The man’s face was turning red and Billy smiled. He released his grip and smiled a simple smile. Rotten brown teeth exposed, he leaned forward and sank his teeth deep into flesh. He tore a chunk of meat from the neck and lifted his head. He spit it out, the flesh hitting the man in the face.
Blood gushed from the bite and out the man’s nose and eyes. He fell face down and thrashed.
The girl screamed, and Billy jumped. He ran his hand over her cheek and touched her full lips. He stared into her eyes, and he felt something he’d never felt before. His mouth was open and his eyes were wide. He wanted her. He needed her to know everything was okay.
The woman screamed and slapped him hard across the face and he released her ankle. She jumped up and fled.
Billy followed her to the edge of the park and grabbed a handful of hair. He yanked, and she flew back, landing hard on the dead grass. Billy leaned down and tried to pat her. He tried to console her.
She screamed in terror, and he lowered his head. He grabbed her leg, rolled her on her side and rested his knee on her shin. Both hands gripped the leg. He pulled until he broke the femur bone.
She cried out, and he broke her other leg. He sat down and stroked her hair. Her skin was smooth and felt cold against his callused palm.
“Billy,” he said, a slight, goofy grin forming. “Billy.”
Her gaze met his and through the tears Billy could see serene blue, and the color of her eyes put him at peace. She shrieked and moaned, but Billy was lost in those eyes. He lowered his face into her hair and a hint of something foreign to his nose crept inside his nostrils. He loved the way she smelled. He held her tight.
She struggled under the weight and beat her gentle fists on the back of his head. He lifted himself up, still smiling, and gazed down at her.
Bad Billy Page 3
