The Uninvited (Book 2): The Stranger

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The Uninvited (Book 2): The Stranger Page 14

by mike Evans


  Joey looked at her strangely. “No…that was when I went down Beachwood Drive. You guys are the ones that gave it that creepy name. Probably the reason that their houses are all still for sale after the slayings.”

  “Yes, the slayings. Please do talk. Can you give us any nitty gritty details, honey?”

  Joey said, “Well yeah, there was kind of a lot of blood. The sun was up a little earlier than usual, or maybe I was riding slower because it was so nice out.”

  “What did you see, Joey? What did you see on the street of death?”

  Joey, who you could tell very easily didn’t like that name, probably because he only lived a few blocks away. He said, “Well when I rolled down Beachwood drive, I saw houses, like I do every day.”

  “Was there something that made you depart from your normal routine, Joey?”

  “Uh yeah…there was nothing but blood on the doors of the houses that still had doors.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “There were doors broken off their hinges, and there were dead people in the front yards. Whoever was there made a bloody mess. The doors that were still on had blood all over them from the victims, or at least that’s what the cops said.”

  Joey’s mom, Martha, slapped his shoulder and he said, “Sorry, that’s what the police officers said. They said that he took blood from each of his twenty kills on the street and drew his signature smiley face on the doors. Those doors that he busted in got extra special treatment and he put the smileys in the house or painted the garage door with them. It was like, totally the sickest thing that I’ve ever seen.”

  “So did you see anything else?”

  “Yeah, I saw him as he was walking away.”

  Leslie leaned forward chin on her palms looking like a schoolgirl getting the scoop. “I'm sorry, Joey, this is news to me. Are you telling me that you were able to get an exclusive visual of him and you lived?”

  Joey shrugged, “Uh yup. I mean I don't know how it’s news to you. We talked about all this before the show. I don’t know why seeing him is so special.”

  Leslie ignored him mentioning that they had talked prior to recording. “Because everyone that has tried to have any sort of encounters with him from the Midwest all the way to Hollywood have gotten themselves cut open and left for dead. I don’t think you appreciate how gruesome this man is.”

  “Oh, I think I get it. There were guts and blood everywhere on the street. It didn’t take me more than a few minutes before I knew something was horribly wrong. Tell you the truth, it was kind of cool, but then the smell of the guts in the morning summer heat hit me and I started making these weird puking noises and by the time I was done I was puking all over the street.”

  Joey helped to show what he was doing by doing the gagging reflex. Leslie watched this with a plastic smile unsure what to do. Joey’s mom got the hint and slapped the boy a second time. Joey rubbed at his arm and didn’t mean to say it out loud. “Damn ma, why you gotta always be slapping me and shit, don’t you know that hurts?”

  Martha who didn’t have a microphone clipped to her shirt leaned over until her and the boy’s eyelashes were touching and whispered, “If you don’t start showing me some respect you are going to only think that I'm slapping the shit out of you, you little disrespectful son of a bitch. I swear the only good thing you got from your father was his looks.”

  Leslie clapped to get the attention of the crowd back. “Did you say anything to the man in the white mask, Joey? Think real hard.”

  Joey shook his head no, “Nope, I turned my bike around and raced off. I wasn’t stupid; I read the newspaper every morning. I rode right back to where I roll papers and handed in my gear to my boss Bill and quit right then on the spot. I told him the job didn’t pay enough.”

  “If you could say anything now…what I mean is…if he or she is listening what would you have to say to them?”

  “Thank you for not killing me, I guess?”

  Leslie laughed, “Oh, you are so sweet. Is there anything else you’d like to say to him, anything at all? You know you are safe here, right?”

  “Yeah, I don’t know. Maybe you should come back and take out my principal?”

  Martha slapped him three times on the head, shoulder, and face throwing Leslie off. Joey yelled, “And my ma, God, please come kill her, she don’t appreciate me none at all. I hate her just as much!”

  Leslie looked at the camera awkwardly for a moment. “We tried to get in contact with Jamie Hardin, the masked one’s wife and mother to his children, but we’ve been unable to contact her. Currently she has been checked into Des Moines Psychiatric for those with mental issues. I can only imagine the stress that this young woman is having to deal with at this time. As of now, no further explanation or information has been given to us. The whereabouts of the two children are unknown but we expect that they are with family and relatives. Thank you for—”

  Megan hit the mute button and said, “Oh my god, I’m so sick of hearing about that fucking psycho.”

  The man in the booth looked up to her questioningly. “You aren’t scared of a man running around the United States killing anyone he deems should be a victim?”

  “Are you kidding me, do you think that he’s the only one out there? You don’t think that a million other people don’t want to go out and just murder random people. The only difference between him and I, is that I have willpower not to kill. He has some serious willpower he needs to learn how to use when it comes to controlling his temper. Or they need to like totally dope him up!”

  Holly laughed uneasily seeing the man was not amused. “I’m so sorry about her, sir. We just have to watch this channel everyday all day long and we are a little sick of special reports with Leslie Bryant. She’s great and all, and a heck of a reporter, but you can only hear so much about—”

  The man cut in, “About a killer before you become desensitized to it all?”

  Holly smiled grabbing his coffee and filling it, “Yeah, exactly, perfectly put. I just think that short bits of info like alerts to sightings, and warnings when they are in the area are good, but when they start off at the guys childhood and work their way up to him as the killer in Colorado and Missouri it gets a little bit difficult to keep the fear going.”

  “So the killer is scarier when they are active, is that what you are saying? The fact that they might be trying to behave themselves means nothing to you at all? You’d rather him just kill until he gets caught?”

  Megan laughed and said, “Well at least it’d happen quicker.”

  Holly’s eyes shot daggers at her when saw Megan flashing Mark in the kitchen, uncaring who saw her actions. Holly was looking at the bill and said, “Can I get you anything else, mister? Would you like to have a piece of pie on the house? We got—”

  He slid a twenty across the table, “Will this cover you and the tip, ma’am?”

  She looked and was nodding already, “Yeah, you need any change out of that, happy to get it.”

  “No, no that is quite alright. I’ve had my fill, and I think gotten more for my money than I could have ever asked for.”

  “Well I’ll be here for just a few more minutes if you change your mind. My name is Holly and I'm always here, so you make sure ya’ll try and stop back in sometime.”

  “Ya’ll? That sure isn’t a California accent now is it?”

  “Uh no, I’m from Missouri actually, so while it might not scare Megan over there so much, it really does terrorize me. I don't want anything bad to happen to the guy but I think we’ be better off if he got help, or if he just stopped doing what he’s doing.”

  “You think that he needs help?”

  “He’s killing people.”

  The man just smiled. He grabbed his hat sliding it back on and gave her a wink and headed to the bathroom. “You have a good night, Holly, and don’t you let the bedbugs bite.”

  She gave him a thumbs up and headed to the back of the kitchen where Megan was currently exploring
the insides of Mark’s pants. From the look on his face she had assumed confidently that he’d be a part of her night later if he didn’t disappoint Megan in the sack. “Hey you two, I’m going to head out. You got a problem with that, Mark?”

  Mark opened his mouth to say something and the movement from Megan’s hand started increasing rapidly. He shook his head no trying to say something but couldn’t form the words. Holly shuddered at what was going to happen in front of her if she didn’t get out of there immediately. “Okay, so just nod yes if you want me to leave.”

  Mark nodded his head looking like a madman. She turned around and went back around the corner. She could hear the zipper being undone and a moan that she could have gone her entire life without hearing. Holly pushed out of the door carrying her keys and looking around nervously as she made her way to the car. It was her least favorite part about her job, having to walk out at night. She could usually have a customer that was a regular, or Mark, walk her out at night otherwise she’d just walk out with another of the waitresses. She was sure that Megan was going to be busy for the better part of the next five minutes depending on how easy she took it on Mark.

  She looked around the parking lot only seeing Mark’s piece of shit loaner Chevy sitting under a lone streetlamp. Holly laughed thinking that Megan needed to seriously try harder in the man department. She thought about Rob at home and couldn’t have been happier that she’d be going there just as soon as she got groceries dealt with.

  Chapter 14

  Megan got up off of the ground brushing her knees clean of some crumbs she’d collected while sending Mark temporarily to heaven. “How was that, Mark? Did I do it right?”

  Mark pulled up his pants and began buckling them. “You couldn’t have done it any better, Megan. I don’t know if I’m in love with you, but sure as shit I’d marry your mouth today.”

  She patted his crotch and said, “Well that was almost sweet. Don’t think that I don’t get my turn later though.”

  He pretended to yawn, saying, “I thought maybe I’d get to bed early tonight.”

  She slapped him on the chest pushing him up against the freezer nibbling on his neck and could feel he was deciding that he’d want to do something else again tonight. He reached around trying to pull her skirt up enough that he could explore when she stopped and said, “We need to clean this place up so we can go get drunk.”

  She fought his hands off checking his groin and said, “Looks like you’ll be able to do a little bit more tonight. You just hold onto that for later okay? Try and adjust a little bit or they are going to be wondering why you have a teepee in your pants at the party. No man hugs if you can’t get rid of that.”

  “You are the reason that I’m single, because if I had to deal with your crazy shit regularly I think I’d lose my fucking mind. You take the table wipe downs and I’ll start cleaning the grill, and I’ve got some management stuff to do also.”

  “Mark, I’m the only one here, there’s nothing to manage, honey. Now you speed it up because I’m horny.”

  Mark slapped her ass as she walked away and she hiked up her skirt exposing the g-string and wiggled her rear for him. “You know you’re going to hell, right?”

  “Yep, but that’s where all the fun boys are anyways.”

  She screamed when she saw the towering man standing, looking through the glass. She said, “Jesus Christ, what the hell are you doing? I thought that Holly cashed you out. Did you need something else?”

  He turned the sign to closed and locked the door. When he turned around the bearded kind face she’d seen before was no longer kind. She took a second trying to make sense of what it was she was seeing and actually laughed at first. Then the images of the television special that had just been on came at her like a baseball bat to the face. She tried to stay calm and said, “You realize that there’s a cook in the back, with all kinds of knives and shit. He does that for a living. It isn’t cool going around acting like you are someone else. The news said that the guy was like seven foot tall or something.”

  The Stranger placed a hand to the top of his head against the door frame which the “in case of robbery get their height” sign had attached to it. He stepped away looking at his hand and saw that it was at the seven foot one inch marker and gave a thumbs up. She screamed to the back, “Mark, get your ass up here, now!”

  Mark who was busy cleaning the grill just barely heard anything and never took out his earbuds to double check. By some prayer she screamed, “Holly, get up here now! If you are here, please help, anyone!”

  Megan ran forward, to his surprise, reaching for her purse and fumbling with it trying to get a spray canister of mace. The Stranger approached, grabbed a steaming pot of coffee off the counter and hurled it at the woman. It smashed open across the side of her face and the scalding coffee immediately made her face begin to blister. The glass cut the side of her face open and because of her melting, burned skin she was a good stand in for the Toxic Avenger. She knelt to the ground crying and terrified, trying to crawl away on her hands and knees dripping blood on the white tile floor.

  The Stranger walked along the outside of the counter. When Megan got to the end of it she ran into a pair of muddied black boots resting in her way. She looked up, blinded in one eye. Megan tried to turn around but before she knew what was happening she was lifted by the waist of her shirt and skirt. The Stranger lifted her above his head first smashing her into the fluorescent tube lights breaking one and shattering glass on the ground and making the lights begin to flicker, and then threw her into the cash register. She crashed into it knocking it from the counter where the spilling change bounced around her as she landed on the ground.

  Megan pushed up from the ground crawling towards the entrance. The Stranger walked quickly towards her picking her up and slamming her into the door. Her bloodied outline against the door was a sight to remember and he would cherish it on lonely nights when he was doing his best not to go out and make a kill, or needed to keep off the radar. He knew that tonight would be special because they had awoken something in him that he’d been letting rest while he was letting his gunshot wounds fully heal.

  He brought her back and turned her around; she was sobbing uncontrollably hitting at his chest and looked like a child in his arms. She said, “You piece of shit, you know how fucking twisted you are?”

  He nodded slowly setting her down on the ground while still keeping a firm grip on her shirt. He dabbed at the blood dripping from her face and drew a smiley face on the door of the restaurant for all to see as they entered. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and her body started to shake as fresh tears began to fall, washing away the blood and leaving only the blistering skin. The Stranger whispered, “It won’t matter very soon.”

  Megan who was ready for it to be over said, “What the fuck do you mean?”

  The Stranger pulled out a machete, the very same one he’d used in Missouri and Colorado for the majority of his killings. He brought it down quickly and she groaned then opened her one still working eye to see that he was staring at her. He ran the blade down her arm to her ribcage and then finally her thigh. She was barely lucid and her life was hanging by a thread. “Please…please don’t rape me. Just kill me, just fucking kill me, you piece of shit.”

  He tilted his head, “Not my thing.”

  She began to say something else but he stuck the machete through her lung and brought it up into her heart. The blood that had been trickling out of her mouth turned dark and her eyes began to lose their light. She was staring him directly in the face. He set her down on one of the benches twisting her head to the side so he could whisper in her ear, “Don’t let my face be the last one you see, or heaven might not let you in.”

  She tried to say something else but blood just bubbled from her mouth. He let go and she slid onto the floor of the diner. He squeezed the machete tighter pulling it out of her heart and wiped the blood on his hands so that he could put fresh blood on his cross. Just
like he had done many, many times before.

  Mark was busy scrubbing away at the grill, oblivious to the flickering lights in the main entryway. When The Stranger walked in Mark saw his shadow and started shaking his ass thinking that it was Megan. He screamed to be heard over the music in his headphones, “I finally got this damn grill nice and hot, and it's cleaner than the Virgin Mary’s hoo hoo. I hope you’re ready for another taste of Mr. Mark!”

  He unzipped his pants slowly shaking them so that they fell to the ground. The Stranger sat there for a moment, not sure where to begin. He stared at the man for a moment longer before grabbing him by the shoulder. He startled Mark and when he turned his head around to see what was going on the machete came down slashing at his exposed genitalia. Blood squirted out onto the grill and his stomach instantly flipped over on itself. The blood began to sizzle on the grill filling the air with a horrible rancid smell. When he looked down and saw what it was, and where he was bleeding from, he puked on his freshly cleaned grill. The food from that day’s lunch had begun to sizzle, intertwining with the blood. Mark dropped to both knees in shock.

  He got himself up from the floor and ran for some clean dish towels, grabbed a pile of them and applied pressure to where his favorite thing in the entire world had been attached. He wiped the spittle hanging in strings from his chin and said, “You’re going to regret doing that, you mother fucker. I’m gonna kill your ass, and I’m gonna get my damn dick sewn back on. They can do all kinds of magical shit with dicks and tits nowadays.”

  The Stranger looked down at the still erect hard-on resting on the floor, small amounts of blood coming from the bottom of the shaft. He picked up a pair of tongs and grabbed the quickly shrinking clump of skin and tossed it into the deep fat fryer. Mark’s lips began to quiver as he smelled his penis frying like a sausage on a stick.

  “You wouldn’t be so fucking tough without that machete, you pussy. You got issues, you know that? You’ve been on the news. I’m so fucking sick of hearing about you. The minute I fucking kill you I’m going to take the reward money and take Megan out to a fucking tropical paradise, and get me a movie deal and shit.”

 

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