by Adam Moon
That brings me to my second least favorite hunter: the passionate follower. These dumbasses usually get recruited by a cult to mete out god’s wrath upon the wicked. That’s just double-speak for murdering Bentos. If you kill one of these guys, you’re lucky if your house doesn’t get torched and you don’t end up on a slab. On more than one occasion I’ve had to add security patrols around my house to keep my wife safe from these lunatics.
The worst is the serial killer. I hate these guys the most because they’re almost impossible to catch. Shit, some of them operate during the day, when our task force is off duty. I’ve only caught a couple of these bastards so I don’t rightly know what makes them tick. My best guess is that they probably already had cruel tendencies that were heightened by the constant fear and anxiety of living alongside monsters. But what do I know.
The easiest killers to catch are the ‘friends and family’. Sometimes when a werewolf kills someone’s friend or family member, there will be retaliation. Of course it’s all but impossible to tell which Bento killed little Jimmy so these dorks just go find the nearest Bento which is almost always an innocent neighbor who is infected. The neighborhood’s a safer place now with one less Bento and a death has been avenged. But not so fast: I will find you. It’s as easy as pulling up profiles on the residents of said neighborhood. If a Bento (in human form of course) is found dead inside their own home, a neighbor with a recently eaten friend or family member did it. That’s a fact.
You’re probably thinking: I see why you said your job’s dangerous; all you do all night is catch armed murderers. You’re only partially right though Einstein, my life is threatened by these people but it’s the Bentos who make my job deadly. This is why I’m paid more than the President, no joke.
If all the rules and laws were obeyed, I’d be out of work. And I’d be writing in a little notebook, scratching out a living.
Let’s talk about the rules.
The first rule is sundown curfew. It changes throughout the year, from season to season, but generally, if you stay safely indoors at night you’ll probably avoid becoming a snack. Pretty straight forward but you’d be surprised how often this one is broken.
The second rule is identify yourself the moment you’re infected and your basement will be fitted with a cell (at the taxpayers expense) which you are to lock yourself up in every evening without fail. Some people are pieces of shit and shrug it off but more often than not; you’ll hear some escapee say they simply fell asleep on the couch in the afternoon and woke up at sunup in a ditch the next city over with a mouth full of man. Mistakes happen.
They happen so often that the laws have had to loosen up a bit to avoid prison overpopulation. Now all an escaped Bento gets is a ticket and a tracking implant to make sure they never do it again. A box cutter and a little bravado is all it takes to remove those things though, so like I said, the laws are loose, tailor made for a guy in my profession.
Last week I heard about a lady that got caught outside after sundown. She got furious at the beat cop who gave her a ticket. She struggled like hell when they implanted her. I’ve often wondered if she really understood the magnitude of what she had done. Chances are she killed or infected dozens that night. Was she still mad about the ticket as she shit and vomited up the soft parts of her victims?
It’s a little more than ironic that as I’m tracking down these hunters, their would-be victims are in turn tracking me down. I don’t get much job satisfaction in that regard.
Here’s a quote by Sigmund Freud that should shed a light on how I feel about most of the people I meet on a day to day basis:
“I have found little that is good about human beings on the whole. In my experience most of them are trash…”
And Sigmund didn’t have to live alongside Bentos or hunters. Imagine how pissed he’d be then.
2/13/64
Ok, well shit, I actually have something to write down in here that’s important. Just last night some maniac bust into Securacell, killed six guards, and somehow managed to override every cell in Southeastern Wisconsin (where I live). What that means is that the safeguards keeping the cells locked up tight were sabotaged thereby releasing every single Bento. Not just that, but the safe-rooms for the uninfected were also unlocked.
It was a massacre.
This has never happened before and there are whispers it might have been an inside job or at least the killer had inside help; that’s because Securacell’s the most heavily funded program in American history. Almost all of our taxes go to keeping it operational and safe. To say it’s sealed up tight as fort Knox would be accurate. It’s the only government funded program we all agree we can’t live without; literally.
We won’t know for sure how many died for days probably but I’ll bet it’s in the tens of thousands.
Mixed families eating each other…such a tragedy.
I heard that Agnes down the street ate her two kids and her long suffering husband. She simply went from her cell into their safe room; a total distance of maybe twenty feet; all doors were open to her. I sure hope she doesn’t snuff herself but I know she will; you can’t live with that kind of thing.
I was on patrol at the time and had to kill a bunch of Bentos myself. Me and Olaf ran out of chickens and rabbits and very nearly ran out of ammo as they chased our truck all fucking night. What a mess.
The saboteur is still at large. There’s no way the clean up crews can get done before nightfall. Luckily my wife slept through the whole thing.
I’m going to bed.
2/13/64
Believe it or not, everything’s taken care of. The clean up crews got it done, Securacell fixed its security holes and for the most part people are free to grieve without the additional worry of a broken system. The perpetrator is still out there but they’ll catch him. His grainy face is plastered all over the news.
There are a few rumblings about how this could have happened and will we ever be safe, but they’ll die down as each night passes safely by.
2/14/64
Wrong. Holy shit was I wrong. A concert got sabotaged last night. The people are outraged. I guess some goofy boy band called Wolfsbane has been touring the area. I’ve heard of them. They suck but they have a marketable gimmick. They are all in their early twenties, handsome, and they’re all Bentos. They played Milwaukee last night.
Let me start out by telling you what was supposed to happen. They would go onstage to a packed auditorium of prepubescent girls, play a handful of shitty love songs interjected with angst and then right before sundown, cages would be lowered to the stage from the rafters with dramatic effect. They would go inside, get locked up and then change in front of their screaming fans. The fans would get to view them like some kind of carnival sideshow attraction for a few minutes but then they’d have to retreat to the basement, which I’ve heard is always reinforced during their shows. You see, the howling can attract other Bentos on the outside.
But these girls and their poor chaperoning parents never got a chance to get to the safety of the basement. Everything went according to plan at first. The band finished up their set, each member got in his personal cage, the doors were locked, and they transformed.
I saw some scratchy video of it so here’s what happened next. On the video, all the girls were screaming with fear and delight, an odd scream you only hear from thirteen year old girls. But then about a minute into the video you can hear several faint pops. The crowd, not knowing this was unusual, cheered louder, that is until stage hands started running off stage in a panic. A hushed silence came over the crowd, broken by low growling from onstage.
And then it happened: the Bentos pushed the doors to their cages open.
The cages, it turns out had been tampered with between shows. Someone had concealed small charges in the locking mechanisms of the doors apparently set to go off right after they were engaged.
There’s no point in me describing the slaughter; there are no words for that sort of mayhem. I’m s
ure the video will be around forever so just check it out for yourself.
What I find a little nuts is that it seems like people care more about what happened to the lead singer than they do about the thousands of other victims. Sure, it’s always a tragedy when a young person dies before their time but if you ask me he had it coming. It looks like the rest of the band must have turned on him when there was nothing left to eat. Good, fuck that kid. His voice sounded like a cat being choked.
The world will be just fine without him.
2/15/64
I found out today that Pete’s daughter was at that concert. Her name was Susan. She went with three friends chaperoned by one of the friends’ parents. They’re all dead.
We all know it but we let Pete ramble on about how she probably escaped and that she’s most likely trying to find her way home. He’s worried she might show up infected; the poor delusional guy.
Once it sinks in she’s dead we’ll have to give him a high profile case just to keep him busy; keep him from biting his service revolver.
I’ve never worked with Pete but he seems nice. Such a shame. I bet he volunteers for Bento duty but he won’t get it. They’ll know he doesn’t give a shit about getting Bentos off the street. They’ll know he just wants revenge.
He wouldn’t be the first person to lose someone and then immediately sign up to join the dog catcher unit.
2/15/64
I get my shots tomorrow, not looking forward to it. It makes Olaf sleepy and me a tad grouchy. I wish we had shots to vaccinate against infection but that hasn’t been cracked yet. These shots are for dumb shit, rabies and Lime disease and aids, that kind of stuff. The kinds of things you need to worry about when you’re tracking down killers, especially since we spend most of our time in the woods now looking for the hillbillies in their pickups. Plus we get covered in an inordinate amount of blood.
2/16/64
I got my shots today so I’ll keep this entry short because I’m having a hard time concentrating.
Pete didn’t show up for work today. You know what that means.
I had to let Olaf sleep on my couch this afternoon since I couldn’t wake him up on the ride back from getting our shots. He always gets like this. The nurses don’t know why but the injections keep on coming anyway. I think they figure as long as he doesn’t lapse into a coma then it’s ok.
I guess he’ll probably spend the night (we’re off duty tonight). I’d better get some booze for when he wakes up.
Stacy (my wife) doesn’t mind. He’s become like a kid brother in the time we’ve partnered together, a crazy kid brother that could probably kick my ass. He’s stayed over so often we keep a roll-out cot just for him in the safe-room. If he had a wife she might mind, but I think Olaf will remain a lifelong bachelor.
If opposites attract then the only way he’ll meet misses right is if there’s some chick out there who’s dumb as a rock, as chaste as a nun and as innocent as an angel. Of course if this woman actually existed Olaf would make it his life’s mission to corrupt her - so never mind.
I’m getting irritable so I’d better cut this short and hit the bag and do some reps for awhile.
2/18/64
Hung over today so this is all you’re getting out of me - I have to chronicle that Olaf lit a fart last night that singed his ball hair. I got through high school, and college, and the police academy without ever having to witness this. I always thought it was a myth. Now I can’t un-see it. Hopefully we see something horrific tonight that will squeeze out the memory. I’ll check back in later.
2/18/64
Do you know how they recruit for my job?
Well first you need to have some combat experience; at least I think that’s right. I had already survived countless attacks on the dog catcher squad (officially named the Bento control unit). That was a fun and rewarding job that gave me plenty of opportunities to become battle hardened.
Also, you have to be chosen for it.
I was chosen because I was the best at what I did, hands down. Olaf was a Marine and a good soldier, although he has some ‘striking an officer’ marks against him in his military records and went AWOL a few times. I don’t know about the other two guys, they seem like doofusses but they must have some kind of training or combat experience.
The process is basically a battery of tests. Most people don’t make it to the final test and those who do wish they hadn’t. The last test flunks almost everyone.
What they do is bring in Larry, he’s an ex cop who just so happens to also be infected. He used to be a beat cop, dayshift, a nice guy. He quit after he got bit even though he didn’t have to. Well, they shackle Larry to the floor and wall of an abandoned interrogation room in the basement. He gets well paid for this I hear. The recruit is locked in the room with him and if he or she can last the night then he or she joins a select few who have beat the test.
You don’t need to kill Larry or defend yourself since he’s basically incapacitated anyway, just witness his transformation without fainting or quitting and hang around while he tries to gnaw through his restraints so he can get to you.
Some people don’t want to be chosen simply because of the shame that comes with the inevitable pants shitting. I’m proud to say I didn’t shit my pants and if you think I did, well good luck proving it. I don’t keep bleach in the laundry room for nothing.
I did manage to catch a short nap in the corner of the room though. I was a legend around the precinct for awhile because of that nap - that is until Olaf took the test.
Olaf spent the night swatting it in the snout with his bare hands, taunting it and egging it on. Olaf has never told me this but it’s on tape, we’ve all seen it. You can see him smiling the entire time. Olaf took his underwear off afterwards and left them at the front counter for all to see: not a single brown stain.
They say if you pass this test, you’re fucked in the head some way or another but they didn’t start to say this until after Olaf passed.
I feel pretty sane a lot of the time.
End of excerpt
For the full novel go here:
http://www.amazon.com/Meat-ebook/dp/B00A2IUA6E
Thanks for reading