“Fuck…yeah.” Chester’s voice, the couch squeaking. “You fucking bitch. Take that…take that…”
“Mary Jane?” Gary didn’t need to see it, already knew what waited for him when he turned the corner.
Mary Jane sat in the middle of the living room floor, facing the couch…where his mother was gripping her ankles, ass in the air. Chester stood on the couch, one hand gripping a handful of her hair, pulling, tilting her face toward the ceiling, the other hand gripping her hip. His cock went in and out of her ass hole with violent thrusts. She screamed with each penetration.
“Mary Jane, what the fuck are you doing?”
She didn’t turn to address him, just stuffed herself full of the sex floating around her.
Chester looked up, locked eyes with Gary for a moment. He grinned, stuck his tongue out like Gene Simmons, then pumped even harder. “You fucking like that, bitch? I’ll fuck your son next, you hear me?”
Gary flinched at the ferocity of the words. The air smelled of shit, and just knowing it was Sheila he was smelling, Gary’s hatred for Chester, hatred for everyone, erupted.
He stomped toward his bedroom, kicked the door open. His fingers flexed into fists and his skin spewed sweat. A Punisher sweatshirt was yanked from a wire hanger, and he pulled it on, scooped up a pair of jeans, yanked them over his legs. He swung the strap of the bag holding his comics over his shoulder, then dug to the back of the closet, amongst the boxes and various junk.
And found his samurai sword.
He’d ordered it from Mr. Shipley’s catalogue at the Rusty Dungeon, used four paychecks on it. Raw power surged through his palms every time he held it, and just thinking about Chester behind his mother in the other room made him reach out, grab the hilt, and stomp back to the living room.
Mary Jane’s eyes had faded and she looked ready to pass out. She chewed lazily, blinked like she was drugged.
Chester sat down now, Gary’s mother on her knees between his legs…sucking, cleaning him off.
“Let her go, you son of a bitch.” Gary stepped past Mary Jane, held his sword at his side.
Chester only smiled, puckered his lips and blew a kiss at Gary.
And then his idiotic expression twisted into a sneer. Sheila pushed away from Chester, gagged, looked around the room with rapid blinking eyes, gagged again.
From just behind him, Gary heard the snores. And then from just in front of him, he heard the growl.
“You little motherfucker.” Chester hopped up, his erection bobbing as if agreeing with his rage. He shoved Sheila aside, came at Gary with fists at the ready.
“Stay back,” Gary said. The sword shook in front of him.
“What you gonna do, huh? Ninja me to death?” He lunged, teeth bared.
Gary thrust forward, gasped when the tip of the blade slid into Chester’s left thigh. The flesh sucked the metal into it—blood gurgled out. Chester stared down at it for what seemed like a whole minute before he finally groaned and grimaced.
“You stabbed me…you fucking stabbed me.”
“Gary, what are you doing?” Sheila had one arm covering her breasts while she pulled her shorts on. “What’s gotten into you?”
The sight of the blood bubbling out from where his blade still stuck sent shivers up Gary’s back. He pushed harder—Chester screamed.
“Both of you shut up,” he said. “Things are different now. I’m the master, the fucking king of the world.”
“I’ll f-fuckin…ngghh.”
Gary twisted the blade just slightly. “I said shut up, asshole.” He yanked the blade out, held it over his head as if to split Chester’s head in two. “Get the fuck back.”
Chester hit the floor, pressed his hand to his wound. Sheila grabbed him and they stared up. Chester bared his teeth.
Gary walked around them, picked Mary Jane up by the fat on the back of her neck.
“Who is this little—”
“Shut your mouth, Sheila. You turned your back on me…your own son. For this piece of shit!” Gary pointed at Chester with the point of the blade. “I should kill him right now.”
It was as if the old Gary came roaring back into his mind, and all of a sudden, he was weak again, scared. He looked down at Chester, the bleeding leg, looked at the sword in his own quivering hand, and he wanted to leave, wanted to run away and never look back again. Warm tears poured from his eyes and the whole apartment swam in his vision.
He turned, sword in one hand, Mary Jane in the other, and ran out the front door. A small part of him wanted to jab the sword into the feedling for using his mother to feed on like that, for making Gary see it, smell it.
But those thoughts shut off at once when he saw his neighbor looking through her window at him. Her eyes went from his sword with the dripping red tip to the girl hanging limp from his other hand. She slammed her curtain shut, and Gary knew she was going for her phone again. He thought about storming into her apartment and handling her like he had the last two girls, but he wasn’t in the mood. All he wanted to do was be alone in the woods, away from everyone in the world.
He took off down the steps, didn’t look back as he ran toward his safe place.
***
Gary panted as he zigzagged through the trees. When he reached the clearing, he dropped Mary Jane and collapsed. On the journey, he’d caught curious glances from every person he’d passed, but he never made eye contact, just kept pushing, pumping his legs as hard as they’d go. He saw lots of cell phones being pulled from pockets.
The taste of grass and dirt filled his mouth as he lay on his stomach and wheezed. His sadness spilled out like hot vomit no matter how hard he tried to keep it down. He sobbed, turned the dirt under his face into mud with his tears and saliva.
I’ll never go back home again. This is my home now.
Mary Jane just snored. She’d doubled in size since Gary’s first run in with her: face rounder, arms and legs plumper, torso inflated.
A rustling behind him. Gary rolled over, sat up. He ran his arm over his face, wiped the tears and snot away.
Oh God, it’s the cops. Someone called the cops and they found me.
He grabbed his sword and Mary Jane, ran around the other side of the rowan tree, covered them the best he could with broken branches and leaves.
Then he rounded the tree. He wished it was the cops.
Gary backpedaled for a moment, staring dumbfounded. He spun on his heels to grab his sword, but even with a limp, Chester was too fast. A hard fist caught the back of Gary’s head and he crashed to the dirt, face nearly smashing into the tree. Black dots danced and weaved in his vision.
“Just me and you now, you fat fuck.”
Chester kicked Gary in the stomach—the air exploded out of him. Gary rolled over, clutched his belly, sucked for oxygen that wouldn’t come.
“Not so tough without your ninja sword, huh?” Gary caught a mouth full of knuckles, then another. The pain was so intense, he couldn’t scream, could only stare at his attacker with blurred vision. Blood filled his mouth, choked him—shards of teeth floated in it. “Get up. Get up and fight me like a man, you chickenshit motherfucker.”
The next thing Gary knew, he was on his feet, the front of his sweatshirt balled up in Chester’s fist. His legs wobbled under him, threatened to give out and let him taste the dirt again. Then another explosion of pain—his nose cracked.
The world went black then. Gary thought the ground slammed against his back, but he couldn’t be sure. When he tried to breathe, he choked, nearly drowned. As his vision cleared, he saw the sun above him, thought he felt its warmth basting him.
Then it was Chester’s face, his eyes hard and bloodshot, his mouth twisted. As Gary was yanked back to his feet, he realized the warmth was his own blood coating his face, his piss soaking his pants.
He thought about calling out to Mary Jane, asking her to make it all stop. But what could she do? Even if she was awake, her influence might make things worse.
I’ll fuck
your son next…
Gary heard the words over and over in his head.
“If you ever come back to the apartment, ever try to interfere in our lives again, I’ll fucking kill you.” Fist to the stomach. “You understand me?”
Gary stayed on his feet, doubled over, clutching his mid-section. He saw the red stain on Chester’s jeans over his thigh. Then he fell backward, cracked his head against a tree root.
He heard Chester spit, and a thick wad slapped Gary in the side of the face, ran down into the corner of his mouth. It mixed with the blood that ran out of him, into the dirt.
Gary wanted to feel relieved when he saw Chester retreating back into the woods, but he could only feel the hurt. The pain was everywhere, and it was worse than Gary ever thought possible. All he could do was weep and try to breathe.
And that’s when the earth started to shake.
—9—
Gary spat a red wad into the dirt, gripped a tree root for support, yanked his hand away.
Hot. The ground rumbled.
“M-mary Jane?” It hurt to speak, hurt all over. Gary rose to his hands and knees, crawled away as quickly as his aching body would take him.
The earth cracked at the base of the tree, just as it had before. Red light shone out, made the woods look coated in blood.
And then the hands burst from the dirt. Pale like Mary Jane’s, the fingernails black.
Another feedling?
Gary didn’t know whether to be excited or terrified, but at that moment, the latter took over. He tried to rise to his feet so he could run away, but it hurt too bad. A cry belted from his throat, and he nearly vomited from the pain.
Then Mary Jane walked out from behind the tree. She took one look at the red light and grinned wider than Gary had seen yet, jumped up and down and clapped and giggled. “Yippie, yippie. You released him!”
Gary winced. “R-released…him?”
“My brother,” she said.
The boy’s head popped out of the ground, mouth wide, like a great white breaking the surface of the ocean. When he ripped himself free of the soil and grass roots, he stretched, yawned, then was tackled by Mary Jane.
The red light shining from his eyes showed the black substance floating in the air around them, like storm clouds swirling around. The rotten egg scent that wafted from the boy’s body dwarfed that which emanated from Mary Jane.
“I’ve missed you,” Mary Jane said. She kissed him on the face, and though the boy smiled, he shoved her away.
“I’m starving.” His voice was rough, deep. He nudged Mary Jane aside, glanced up at Gary. “Hello, Master.”
Gary tried to speak, but his bloody lips were cemented shut. He blinked, crinkled his forehead.
“You mind if I eat?”
Gary shook his head.
The boy feedling unhinged his jaw, the same way as his sister, but his teeth were sharp, pointed and serrated, flat like razor blades. He inhaled and the black globs rushed toward him, filled his mouth. The creature chewed and grunted, inhaled more.
Mary Jane skipped to Gary’s side, grabbed his hand in hers. She looked up at him, smiled, made no comment about his ruined face. “You are the best master ever.”
“Who…who is he?”
“My brother. But you haven’t given him a name yet.”
“What is he eating?”
“Violence.”
Gary’s eyes widened as he watched the boy gorge on the violence filling the air. He reached up, touched his face. His nose, tender and raw, bent to the left—to touch it was agony. Left eye had nearly shut, right had a cut on the eyebrow and swollen. His mouth was a mess of busted lip, cracked teeth, and blood.
The feedling had plenty to eat.
The red light faded to a dark pink and the feedling burped. He turned, sleepy-eyed, and faced his master. His stubby legs wobbled as he walked, looked ready to give out from under him. Mary Jane stepped forward and wrapped his arm over her shoulder.
“Thank you, Master,” he said. “That was delicious.”
Mary Jane widened her eyes, the orange starting to shine again. “Master? His name?”
A feedling that eats violent energy.
And he belongs to me. I’m his master.
Through the electric pain coursing through him, Gary found a smile. His bag lay just a few feet away, and he glared at it, pictured the drawings that lay within.
Chester will pay. They’ll all pay.
“Kronos,” Gary said. “I’ll call you Kronos.”
The boy grinned. “Very good, Master.”
“I’m Mary Jane. Isn’t he a good master?”
Kronos nodded. “I need to lie down. Sleep,” he said. “But when I wake up, Master, you take me to this…Chester. I’ll feast on his suffering.”
He knew Chester’s name. They really are a part of me.
Gary nodded, stepped toward Kronos, placed a shaking hand on top of his bald, scabrous head. “Yeah, go ahead and rest. I’ll make sure you’ve got plenty to eat when you wake.”
Kronos grinned his shark teeth, curled up into a ball on the spot and was snoring in seconds.
Gary turned on Mary Jane. “Listen to me.”
“Yes, Master?”
“I am your master, and I tell you when you eat, you understand?”
“Why are you upset? I—”
“That was my mother you were feeding on back there! I should make you starve. I should—”
The soft, friendly face of the feedling unfolded into a snarling display of teeth. As she stepped up to Gary, her orange eyes burned brighter. Her tongue slithered out, coated the cone-shaped teeth in saliva.
“Don’t forget what I told you,” she said. Her voice lost its gleeful squeakiness. “You are only my master for as long as I’m fed. You let me starve, you won’t like what happens next.” She snapped her teeth at him, giggled. “My brother’s appetite is much bigger than mine. Much bigger.”
Gary’s lip trembled. Whatever bravery had filled him a second ago disintegrated. He plopped down on the ground, ripped a handful of grass from the dirt.
Mary Jane sat beside him, rested her head on his shoulder. “I’m getting hungry.”
***
Gary had drifted off to sleep at some point. In his dream, he was pinned to the rowan tree by his wrists and ankles, naked. Sheila was there, smiling up at him. Kronos and Mary Jane skipped around her, arm in arm, chuckling. Chester emerged from the trees, samurai sword in hand, blood pouring from his knuckles.
“Sheila? Let me down.”
She only smiled at him, stepped toward Gary—groin-level—and opened her mouth.
“What are you doing?” Gary struggled against the spikes driving him into the wood, but couldn’t budge. He squeezed his eyes shut as his mother took him in.
“Take that, bitch.” Chester’s voice.
Gary’s eyes popped open just in time to see the blade of the sword split Sheila’s head in two. A hurricane of yellow and black rushed from her head and into the air, and the feedlings fed until they towered above the forest.
Laughing all the while.
Gary burst into consciousness and yelped, gasped for breath. Light blinded him at once.
But it was the surrounding forest that caught his attention.
The trees were splashed with blood, some splintered and broken, some fallen over. Littering the ground were the bodies of animals, piled on top of each other, strewn about like discarded plush toys. Their fur was soaked with red and only a few moved, slow and twitchy. Tiny squeaks and grunts were barely audible over the giggling of the feedlings.
Mary Jane and Kronos sat in front of him, chins resting in the palms of their hands. They looked like demonic pre-schoolers. The sun had begun its sink into the horizon, splashing the sky with pinks and purples. But the orange and red light aimed at Gary’s face had his full attention. He squinted, held a hand up to block it out.
“You’re awake, Master,” Mary Jane said. “We’ve been waiting for you.”
“Yes, and I’m anxious to feed,” Kronos said. “These animals did nothing for my appetite. And it’s been way too long since the world has tasted my influence.”
Gary winced as he sat up, hissed between bared teeth. “I don’t know, guys. I’m hurt,” he said. “I don’t know if I can do much tonight.”
Kronos let out a rattling growl. “Did you tell him what happens when we’re not fed, Sister?”
“I sure did. He understands perfectly.”
Their eyes burned a hole into him. “Okay, just let me collect myself,” Gary said.
He whimpered as he rose to his feet, his bones popping as he stretched. It hurt to breath with the tenderized meat of his chest and stomach. He reached up and touched his face—the blood had hardened into scabs. When he touched his nose, he hissed, jerked his hand away from it. Broken for sure. But with his feedlings so hungry and demanding so much attention, he didn’t know if or when he could get it looked at.
“What’s the matter, Master?” Kronos said.
Gary snorted, swallowed. “I got the shit kicked out of me just a few hours ago. I feel like I got hit by a truck.”
Kronos laughed. “Maybe you don’t fully understand the situation. Let me explain some things to you.” He ran his tongue over his teeth. “You are the master of two of the most powerful feedlings this world has ever known. With me, you can get revenge on anyone that’s ever harmed you, sweet bloody revenge. My influence has caused many wars.”
Gary had already been thinking about that. He’d been having his own personal slideshow in his mind: Chester, Mr. Shipley, Sonny, Brett, the Turner twins, the neighbor girl, Sheila…
Revenge.
He thought he’d been getting revenge with Mary Jane’s help, but he realized he was wrong. He was just having fun. Lots of fun, until the run in at the apartment. But with Kronos…the possibilities were endless.
“I can make your enemies tear each other apart. I can make the people who’ve wronged you cut out their own heart, slit the throat of their own child.” Kronos’s eyes burned crimson. “Just lead the way, Master.”
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