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He should have known from the start that there was something wrong with Michael Messorem. Something deeply disturbing and screwy about the man with black eyes who never seemed to get angry. Always calm, always poised, never showing any emotions saved for quiet contentment. His daughter, Amanda, was a real firecracker, but him?
His eyes were dead and blank.
The first time Robert started getting suspicious was when he properly met the guy after he moved in. It was late at night at Jim and Kim’s, and the guy sidles up to a stool across the bar and orders a beer. Never says what kind, never asks what’s on tap, just says beer. And with one eerily cool gaze, Neil passes him a glass.
He chatted him up a bit, and the guy seemed nice enough. Didn’t prod him with endless questions, and even flirted a bit with him. But everything seemed so… wrong. It was like walking up to a waterfall and the water bellow being calm, or walking through a forest and not hearing any birds. At a glance, nothing seemed wrong, but the longer he hung around, the more things wrong he noticed. The man’s skin was eerily pale and felt like the leather of his jacket. His eyes were so black that you couldn’t see his pupils, and the bags around his eyes seemed so deep and discolored, that it looked like he hadn’t got a wink of rest in years.
And he was always fucking smiling.
But nevertheless, there was something about him that Robert was oddly attracted to. So, with his mind buzzed with whisky, he invited the guy over for a little fun as they dragged themselves home. He accepted his offer, and trailed behind.
As soon as Robert had shut the door and was on him, the man’s smoothness seemed to fall away. All his movements seemed mechanical and stiff. And after he mentioned that he normally didn’t do this kind of thing… Robert just wanted to make sure he wasn’t forcing himself on this poor sap.
After he asked, it was like Michael couldn’t get himself out of there fast enough.
-
The next he saw of the mystery man was at a barbeque Joseph was throwing. The only reason he even showed up to the event was because Mary enticed him with Joseph’s grilling. The guy may be a cheating bastard, and he wasn’t any better, but damn could he make a mean burger.
But he also had heard that the new dad was going to be there, and damn if his presence wasn’t addicting. He couldn’t get enough of the man and his intoxicating eyes.
When he came over to hang out with Robert and Brian, all he did was placidly stare at the two of them, and occasionally interject with a comment or two. Brian didn’t seem to notice how off the man was, or he did, and didn’t seem to care. The man eventually trotted off, but as he left them to their devices, he gently ran his fingers along Robert’s hand. Right across his tattoo.
His skin didn’t seem as cold as it was the night before, or as pale. It must have just been the lighting, and a chilly night. The bags under his eyes didn’t seem as bad either, so he hoped the man just went and passed out as soon as he got home. Out of earshot, he heard Joseph and Mary arguing about their one of their kids, Crish.
He watched Michael carefully as he went up to talk with Joseph and Damien. The man was an enigma that he desperately wanted to solve. However, Robert noticed something odd as Michael chatted with the other two dads.
His eyes never left Joseph’s face, not even for one second. Staring unblinking and wide, the smile gone from his face. He slowly turned his head over to Robert, their eyes connecting as he gave an unnerving smile, before turning his attention back to Joseph.
Robert couldn’t bear to look at Michael for the rest of the party.
-
When Robert woke up the next morning, having chugged an entire bottle of Jack Daniel’s as soon as he got home from the barbeque and fell asleep on his couch with Betsy curled up on top of him, two things happened.
The first was that as soon as he opened his door to get the mail, there was a piece of paper taped to his door, and as he looked out to the cul-de-sac, he noticed that there was paper taped and stapled everywhere. He examined the paper, and felt his stomach drop as soon as he read the words.
“Have You Seen Me?
Crish Christiansen
Call XXX-XXX-XXXX”
He knew that phone number by heart, and he cracked out his own phone to call Mary, but noticed he already had 18 missed calls from her. He backed up back into his house, scanning around the cul-de-sac before closing his door as he played the first voice mail. The only soul outside was Michael, who was staring directly at Robert as he closed his door, and bolted it for good measure.
According to Mary, someone, or rather, something had broken into the animal shelter last night and took some of the dogs. Damien had been asleep during that shift, but woke up when he heard yelping, and before he knew it, 4 of their dogs were being dragged out by… something. Damien wasn’t too sure if what did it was a man, or a beast. But Mary said the animal shelter is going to be closed to the public for a while, and when it opens back up, wants Robert to hunt down whatever took the dogs.
Normally, this sort of thing would be right up Robert’s alley. Cryptid hunting, helping his friend, saving helpless dogs. But with the disappearance of the Christiansen kid, he can’t seem to shake his nerves.
It was less than an hour later that he gets a message over that stupid DadBook app from Michael, asking if he wanted to hang out. He would have responded, but it seemed like his help was needed elsewhere. From what he heard from Mary, Damien wasn’t taking any of this well. He was sent over to keep him and his kid company until they calmed down enough. He always thought that with being into all that goth stuff, that something like this wouldn’t bother him, but all-day Damien seemed like he was going to jump out of his skin at any second. And his kid wasn’t faring any better. The kid was a tough ass, and a rebel, something he could respect, but even he was oddly quiet, and tailed his father around like a lost puppy. And when Damien wasn’t around, his kid was practically glued to his side.
“Something’s wrong, like, seriously fucking wrong. I can feel it man. I can feel it in my bones.”
Robert affectionately tousles his hair. “You’ve been smoking too much weed, kid. Cut back on that shit.”
Lucien just gives him an odd look, and goes back to texting away on his phone, hands shaking as he does so.
Robert doesn’t end up getting back to Michael until he’s already at the bar with a rather shaken up Mary. She’s continuously drinking from her glass, and hardly stops to say hello to him as he enters.
He briefly wonders if Mary is this fucked up from losing Crish, how is Joseph doing? The man must be losing his God damn mind right about now.
When Michael strides into the bar, it’s almost like everything goes silent. He looks even better than last time, his hair with a shiny luster, a tinge of pink on his cheeks, and the bags under his eyes are nearly completely gone. But his eyes still have a glaze over them, and when he stares into Robert’s eyes, it feels like his gaze goes right through him, dissecting him with nothing but a single once over.
Despite the unnerving nature of Michael, he actually has fun that night. They shake off Mary, so she can go do her own thing, then have a blast eating pizza, sneaking into movies, getting into fights with Youths… Honestly, more fun than he’s had in years, so much, in fact, that he completely forgets about the enigma that is Michael’s mind, and just spend some quality time just shooting the shit.
They go out a few more times after that, just hanging out, and being buds. It’s a breath of fresh air, if he’s being completely honest with himself. He doesn’t have to think about how he’s a terrible person, or feel that empty hole in his chest.
The only thing that every really bothers him is that, according to Mary, he’s all over Joseph like a fly to honey.
Despite all the fun he’s having, things around the cul-de-sac only get worse. After Crish disappearing, and the attack on the animal shelter, things were okay for a bit. Everyone was still shaken up, and they still were. But Crish was never found, and it mostly faded from everyone’s memory, although all the dads were locking their houses up a bit tighter at night.
And then everyone’s pets start going missing. It was Brian’s dog at first, then Robert let poor ol’ Betsy out for a night piss, and she never returned, and he even heard rumors that Mat’s house was broken into, and all of Carmensita’s fish were the only thing missing when they returned home.
But then…
But then…
Ernest said he was going out for a late-night walk, and everyone in the cul-de-sac could hear Hugo yelling at him to get back inside, but Ernest just screamed at his dad to fuck off, and stormed out of there.
In the morning, Ernest didn’t return home, but a bloody, orange hoodie was stuffed into Hugo’s mailbox.
Nobody really talked to anyone in the cul-de-sac after that, except for Mat, bless his soul. He let Hugo stay in his place until he was ready to go back. They all tried to hold an event, so that Hugo didn’t feel like he was alone. Robert thought the whole thing only made things worse. The kids all crammed themselves on a couch together, whispering to each other with low voices, and desperately keeping an eye out for. Amanda was in the center of it all, holding Briar and Hazel under one arm, and Daisy under the other. She had that piercing gaze that her dad held, but somehow it looked almost… scared.
The adults all didn’t know what to talk about, and mostly sat around a table drinking together. Michael was squished in between Robert and Joseph. He never once lifted his hand from Joseph’s thigh, and when he didn’t have a drink in his other hand, he held tightly onto Robert’s hand above the table. They all made light conversation: Brian talked about how Daisy was going to skip a few grades, and that they were going to take a trip out to his parents for the weekend; Michael mentioned that he was happy with how his garden was really shaping up, and that his marigolds were growing beautifully; and Joseph mentioned that the church was holding a finger painting event for all the kids on the upcoming weekend.
Everyone went home after a few hours of terse conversation and silence.
-
The next Robert sees of Michael, he’s alone, outside in his front yard. No one else goes out anymore, only when they need to go to work or get groceries. The once lively cul-de-sac is now dead silent, and the toys left outside remain stationary and collecting dust. It makes Robert feel even more lonelier than normal, so when he sees his friend out working on his garden, he deigns himself to join.
He’s on his knees, wearing a sun hat and gloves as he carefully plucks weeds out from his garden, and carefully snips flowers. He wasn’t lying when he said his marigolds were beautiful. Their petals were a vibrant gold, and sprawled across every available space that wasn’t barricaded off by bricks. He’s humming a song, and it sounds so familiar to Robert, but he can’t quite place the tune.
“Your flowers, they’re, uh, looking good,” he compliments, motioning with the can of beer that’s still in his hand.
“Thank you. I’ve always loved marigolds. So bright and sunny.” Michael takes off his gloves, and brings himself to his feet. In his hand laid a single flower. “They’re supposed to represent the beauty and warmth of the rising sun, you know,” he mentions as he tucks the flower behind Robert’s ear, lips inches away. “As well as winning someone’s love through hard work,” he whispers before lightly placing a kiss on Robert’s neck, right over his jugular. “Maybe that someone would like to go out for drinks later?”
“Y-yeah, the someone would like that.” Robert hates to admit that the stone-cold statue that is Robert made a little heat come to his cheek, but he does, and Robert can’t wait to get back to his bedroom. There’s a dildo with his name written all over it there. “What’re all those other flowers for?” he asks, desperately trying to distract himself.
Michael simply smiles and turns his attention back to his garden. “Marigolds also mean despair and grief over the loss of a loved one in Mexican culture. I thought Hugo would appreciate a bouquet.”
Robert is at a small loss of words, and decides to mention that he’ll see Michael later, and heads off to his house, flower still perched on his ear.
-
The day eventually came that the animal shelter was planned to open back up again. Robert got all of his gear ready, which was really only a camera with night vision, his trusty pocket knife, and in case of extreme emergencies, he had a pistol hidden under the driver’s seat of the truck, alongside the first aid kit.
However, as Robert pulled up to the animal shelter, he could tell almost immediately that something was wrong. It was almost eight at night, with the sun just starting to set over the horizon, and yet the lights inside the building were off, and the door was left ajar. He steps out of his truck, eyes never leaving the entrance of the building, as he slowly pulls out his camera.
He flips on the night vision as soon as he gets inside, the entire building pitch black, unnaturally so. As he makes his way over the receptionist desk, his feet crunch on broken glass. Mary doesn’t seem to be there, but-
Is that… Is that blood on the counter?
Robert pushes further into the shelter, his hand slipping into his pocket to pull out his knife. “It’s currently 8:28 pm. When I arrived at the Maple Bay Animal Shelter, all the lights were out, and the front door was open. It seems like the lights were all blown out, and I found some blood smeared on the front desk. I haven’t seen anyone yet, but I’m worried that whatever is doing this has already gotten to Mary.” As he makes his way into the animal pens, he slips on something, sending him to the floor.
He managed to grab onto one of the fence doors on his way down, but as he scans the room with his camera, he nearly falls down anyways. There’s a thick, sticky pool of blood covering the floor, and it’s splattered all over the fences and the walls, and fuck- the stench didn’t hit him until now but Robert has to try his best not to vomit as he notices the broken and mangles dog corpses that are littered around the room.
But then he hears it, a series of sickening snaps, gurgling, and the faint sound of nails scratching cement. There’s a trail of blood smeared on the floor leading further into shelter. For as much as he claims to be a cryptid hunter, and knows he should go investigate, everything in his mind is telling him to run, run and never look back and forget any of this ever happened. He wants to sprint all the way home and just sit in the shower until he scrubs every last horrific memory of this nightmare from his mind.
But his feet are moving on their own, and he carefully trudges his way through the blood smeared across the floor, and turns the corner. He can faintly see something at the end of the hallway, but it’s too far away to make anything out on his camera, so he pushes forward. He no longer can control his shaky breaths, or heart beating so rapidly that whatever is at the end of this hallway can probably hear it.
The more Robert moves forward, the more he wants to turn around and run away. His hands are trembling so badly that he can barely make out anything on the camera. As he gets closer, he can make out the wet sounds of something devouring and ripping apart its meal. He stops, and steadies his camera, trying to zoom in on the scene at the end of the hall.
There’s… Well it’s something, Robert isn’t quite sure what it is, hunched over what looks to be like…
Oh God.
Oh, fucking Jesus God damn Christ, it’s Mary. Her face is pale and splattered with blood, eyes staring, unblinking, over at him. Her body rocks and shakes each time the terrible creature looming over her pulls something out from her ripped open ribcage and devours it.
The creature, in the light of night vision, is unnaturally pale, appearing almost white, and crouches on its haunches. It isn’t wearing a scrap of clothing, and it’s back is bent at an unnatural angle, the knobs of its spine jutting out. Robert knows this creature, he’s heard the legends and the myths, and he’s even tried his hand at hunting the damn thing down. But-
“Oh Robert, how nice of you to come join me.”
He knows that voice, all too familiar with it.
The creature stands up to its full height, which isn’t as impressive as he imagined it to be. He seems like a normal man from behind, but as he turns around, Robert’s stomach dropped.
He was hoping, more than anything, that this unholy fuck was using his voice, but no. There stands Michael Messorem in all his nude glory. His eyes in the camera glow unnaturally bright, and he has this toothy grin on his face. It seems wrong, his face looks broken when he makes anything but content smiles. The lower half of his face, chest, and hands are covered in blood, contrasting in an anomalous way that makes him seem like a painting.
“She kept saying that you’d come for her.” He clears his throat, and imitates Mary’s voice perfectly, making Robert seethe with rage. “You better watch your fucking back, Robert’s gonna be here any minute, and he’s gonna cut you a new one if you try anything.” He drops the façade and chuckles, shaking his head slightly. “It was cute, how much she believed in you. Didn’t even bother trying to protect herself. Guess she was too pissed at how much more Joseph cares for me than her.”
“You’re sick, Mike. Real fucking sick, and you need help.” He manages to keep his voice steady, but oh God, he feels like he’s going to punch in his stupid face at any second. If he didn’t have feelings for the fuck buried deep inside of him, he already would have gone over there and sliced his neck open-
“You and I both know you wouldn’t be fast enough to do that,” he taunts, casually stepping closer to him. For each step forward he takes, Robert takes back two. “And you wouldn’t want to anyways. You want me, Robert, we both know that.”
Robert jumped when he felt his back hit a wall. He desperately looked around for a way, any way, out. With Michael closing in on him, his only way out was being blocked out, and his only chance were the tiny windows lining the wall up by the ceiling. With that predatory grin on his face, it seems like he isn’t going to have a chance in hell.
“You can’t escape from me Robert, not any more. But you can have me.” His fingers brushed against Robert’s cheek, wiping blood as they did. If the room didn’t reek of freshly spilled blood, and he hadn’t just seen the freak in front of him much on his best friend’s liver, the touch would have seemed tender, like the caress of an old lover. His hands slide down his face, and rest on Robert’s shoulders before leaning in to softly kiss him.
His body relaxes, and for a brief moment, he sinks into the kiss, allowing Michael to hold him. His head feels light, like he’s going to float away at any moment. There’s an inferno burning through his veins, and he feels like at any moment he’s going to burst into flames. There’s something addictive about Michael, something about the way his body presses up against him, and the way he smells like dirt, and tastes like-
Robert bodily shoves Michael away, and scrubs at his mouth with the back of his hand. But no matter how hard he tries, and how much he spits, he can’t get the revolting taste of blood and organs out of his mouth. “I don’t want this, you sick fuck! I want you to be locked up for all this shit you’ve done!”
Michael just stares at him with that patent gaze of his, quaint smile spread across his lips. “Oh Robert. We could have been happy together, you know? But you always have to go and ruin the mood, don’t you?” He lunges, hands wrapping around Roberts neck. His face morphs into an expression of collected fury, lines cutting his face. “We could have been happy Robert,” he snarls at him, fingers crushing his neck. His voice gets deeper, and more distorted, as if both Michael and some ungodly creature are attempting to talk at the same time. “We could have lived a long life, just me, you, and Amanda, but you have to go ruin everything!”
Robert drops his camera as his hands fly up to pry him off. He sputters and gasps for breath, but Michael’s grip only gets tighter.
“I would have spared you, I could have made you happy again, but you can’t get over yourself-!” Michael is cut off as a blade is driven between his ribs. He gasps and stares down at the blade protruding from his chest. “Oh you, naughty, naughty boy. I thought you were happy to see me, though I should have known you never leave home without a knife.” He backs up from Robert, stumbling slightly. “You managed to resist my wiles, but do you think Joseph is going to be able to do the same?” he taunts.
Before Robert can respond, Michael is crawling up the wall, and through the window, leaving him there hunched over and gasping for breath. He said something about Joseph? Why would-
Oh.
Oh.
He always wondered what exactly about Joseph that Michael was so enraptured with. The way he always stared, wide eye at the man with nothing but adoration, smiled like a lunatic in love. And maybe he was, but Robert wasn’t even sure a monster, or demon, or whatever the hell he was, was capable of any emotions besides raw, white hot anger. But if he couldn’t have him…
Robert sprinted out of that building, clamored into his truck, and slammed on the gas. He fumbled with his phone, desperately typing in Joseph’s number. He hates that fucking bastard, but he cared about him once, and he’s not letting Michael take away one of the last things in this God damn world he actually cared about.
“Robert, now really isn’t the best time-”
“Get out, now. Grab the kids, get in your car, and drive as far away from town as you can-”
“What are you talking about? I thought you were at the animal shelter. I- Oh!” Robert can hear on the phone clatter against wood, and the sound of a picture frame being knocked over. “Mike, you surprised me! Try not to sneak up on me like that, okay?”
“Mmm, I’ll try, but I don’t think I can resist you enough.” It’s him. His voice sounds distant, and Robert shouts into the receiver for Joseph to get the hell out of there, but he doesn’t think the man can hear him.
“What’re you doing here anyways? Weren’t you the one who said we weren’t going to do anything in the house?” Joseph teases him, followed by the faint sound of lips smacking. “I missed you,” he whispers. “I don’t like it when you’re not here.”
“Good, because I don’t like staying away. And now with Mary gone-”
“What happened to Mary?”
“She left, Joseph. I saw her drive out of town in another man’s car. There was a suitcase in the backseat, I don’t think she’s coming back.” There was something off about Michael’s voice. Robert had heard it before, when Michael… when he forced himself on him. He hadn’t noticed it then, but now, over the phone, it was clear as day. “But don’t worry sweetie, I can make all that pain go away… You just have to,” there was the sound of kissing over the speakers. “Let me…” More kissing. “Take care of you… We can be together now, forever.”
“Michael… Please. I need you.” There’s a rustling of cloth over the speaker, and the sound of moaning, so Robert decides it’s a loss cause trying to listen in, and hangs up instead, flooring the gas pedal. He nearly crashes into the stop sign as he turns the corner into the cul-de-sac. Most of the cars are missing from their driveways. It seems like everyone had an excuse to get out for the weekend, no one beside himself, Joseph, and Michael staying in the cul-de-sac tonight.
Robert doesn’t bother with trying to park, and his tires squeal as he skids to a stop. He only stops to grab the pistol out from under his seat, and checks to make sure the clip is full before storming into the house
All of the kids are sitting downstairs, watching some stupid cartoon, and all their heads snap around to face him the moment he enters. “Kids, you aren’t safe. Get into my truck outside, and don’t get out until your daddy or I come to get you. That thing upstairs with your dad isn’t human, and he wants to hurt you.”
When they catch eye of his gun, they’re all scrambling to get out of the house, eyes bugging out of their head.
Robert storms up the stairs as quietly as one can when they storm, listening carefully. All he can make out are the sounds of flesh slapping and Joseph moaning like the wanton whore he is. He edges silently towards where he knows Joseph’s room is. He doesn’t bother with the handle, and goes straight in for the kill with his foot. As soon as the door smashes open, he has his gun cocked and trained on Michael.
“Get. Up. Now.”
The two of them struggle to get off of one another, and make desperate attempts to pull the sheets over their laps. Michael is as calm and collected as always, however with a faint flush on his cheeks, while Joseph is beat red, flush spreading to the tip of his ears and down his chest. They’re both beautiful sights, with disheveled hair and lips bright pink. But that evil smirk behind Michael’s lips ground him.
“Robert?! What’re you- Is that a gun?!” Joseph puts his arms up in the air. “What is God’s name do you think you’re doing? Where are the kids?”
“Outside, in my truck. They’re safe Jo. Michael, get out of the fucking bed, now. I won’t tell you a second time.”
“Just calm down, you don’t have to do this. We can talk this out Rob, just- Just put the gun down,” Michael begs, sliding out of the bed.
For a brief moment, his arms falter. He sounds so scared, and concerned. But Robert’s arms shoot right back up. “No, that’s not working on me this time. I’m not letting you get away with this, what you did to Mary.” He scans him up and down, noticing only smooth, flawless skin.
“What do you mean what he did, Mary left-”
“Mary’s dead, Joseph. Michael here killed her, and then ate her. He’s a fucking monster, and you’re his next target.”
Michael’s head snaps over to Joseph, eyes wide. “You’re not going to believe him, are you? He’s holding us at gun point Joseph! He’s taking the ki-”
Robert lets off a warning shot at the wall behind Michael, and cocks his gun again. “Next time, I won’t miss. Now, we can do this one of two ways Michael; we can go outside, where I’m going to blow your fucking brains out, or we can stay in here, where I’m going to unload lead into your chest, right in front of Joseph, and ruin that nice bed spread. Your choice.”
“Robert, please. Just put the gun down,” he starts laying it down really thick, and Robert struggle to keep his arms up. Michael starts slowly taking steps forward, hands outstretched. “I’m sure this is all just a big misunderstanding. If you put the gun down, I’ll go and grab some beers, and we can talk this out, okay Robbie? Does that sound good?” His voice is cloyingly sweet.
Robert lets his arms drop to his sides as Michael pulls him into a hug. His free hand rests on his wait as he hides his face in Mike’s neck. He hasn’t been this vulnerable with someone in such a long, long time. Hasn’t let someone hold him life this. It feels nice, secure. Michael’s a guy he can trust, love even.
“Shhh, that’s it, Robert, come to me. We can be together now. Everything’s going to be alright,” Michael whispers in his ear, one hand cradling the back of his head, while the other rests on the small of his back, pulling him closer. In the background, Robert can hear clothing rustling, likely Joseph…
Joseph…
Why was he here in the first place?
His free hand runs up Michael’s side, in order to wrap around him. His oddly smooth, and cool skin feels nice beneath his own calloused and scarred hands. But something doesn’t feel right. It all seems too familiar. A naked hot man pressed against him, and…
Why isn’t his side sticky with blood? There should be a knife there because…
Because…
Mary. He killed Mary and choked the life out of him and now he’s after Joseph.
Robert tightens his grip on the gun in his hand, and pushes Michael off of himself for the second time that night. He lets off three shots, two landing their places in his chest, and the last one going clean through his skull.
As his body falls to the ground with a sickening ‘thump’, Robert is taken off guard by Joseph physically tackling him to the ground, sending the gun skittering off to the dark recesses of his bedroom. He’s punched once, twice, three times in total, nose gushing out blood, until Joseph stops, chest heaving and tears spilling down his face.
“You monster!” he screams. “What’s wrong with you, you just- you just murder your best- you just murdered my-!” He sits back, desperately trying to wipe away the wetness in his eyes. “You said Michael was a monster, but the only monster I see right now is you.”
Robert, for a split second, almost apologizes. He can see tears dripping down his face, and landing on his shirt. “Joseph-”
“No! No more excuses Robert!” His voice is hoarse. Of course it is, and Robert wants to explain but-
“Joseph, sweetie, there’s no need to get upset. I’m right here.”
Both of them snap their attention over to where Michael’s body lay, watching it rise up. One of his hands reaches up to gently touch the gunshot wound on his forehead. “That really stings, you know that Robert? I thought we were having a moment back there. But you had to go and ruin it, just like always. Can’t we ever have anything nice without you corrupting everything you touch?”
Joseph gawks over at Michael in astonishment. “Sweet Jesus, Mary, and Joseph…” he whispers, fingers curling into the lapels of Roberts coat, arms tensing up. “M-Michael?”
“Don’t worry, love,” the spite in his voice drips off his tongue like venom. “I’m just going to get rid of Robert reeeaaal quick, and then we can be together again. Forever, and there’s nothing anyone can do to stop me being with you.” He pulls himself up to his feet, and Robert knows that his body is the same as it was before, but there’s something off about it. It’s like he can’t focus on any one part, his eyes keep darting around but not taking anything in.
“Joseph?”
“Y-Yeah Robert?”
“Run.”
The two of them clamber to get to their feet and race out of the house. They burst through the front door, and make a mad dash towards the truck parked halfway up the curb. Joseph slams the door shut as Robert slides over the hood, and jumps into the driver seat. He floored it, tires once again making an awful squealing sound as the truck swayed to get its footing. Chris, Christian, and Christie were already clamoring to get into Joseph’s lap as soon as he got in.
“Dad what happened?”
“Where are we going?”
“Why aren’t you wearing a shirt?”
Joseph hugs all of them to his chest desperately, and kisses the tops of their heads. “Michael’s a bad person, so Robert’s taking us to a safe place far, far away from him,” he murmurs into Chris’ hair. His eyes glance over to Robert, who’s eyes are focused on the road and nothing else. “Right?”
“Yeah, right. We’re going to a cabin, to go camping, until the police figure this all out. Hey Jo, you mind getting the knife with the blue and silver handle out from the glove compartment?
“Robert…”
“Just want something on hand, since you kind of threw my gun away. It was a gift from an ol’ hunter friend of mine. Blade’s made of pure silver. If that bastard comes for us, we’ll be ready.” He’s knocked lightly in the shoulder by Joseph, who glares. “Shit man, sorry.” Aaaand another one.
“Dad, where’s mommy at?” Chris asks from his spot slouched between the two older men.
Joseph and Robert share a look that tells all. He looks back down at his children with a fake smile plastered to his face. “Mommy left. She found someone who made her happier than daddy, so she went away with him.”
“You don’t have to lie to us daddy,” Christie says.
“We know mommy’s dead,” Christian finishes
“Yeah, you get that same constipated look on your face that she does whenever she tells us you’re at church and not hanging out with Michael.”
Joseph immediately closes his mouth, lips pressed together in a straight line as Robert chuckles. “I’m going to get that knife now.”
They probably drive for nearly two hours down a beaten, dirt road. It’s completely pitch black out, and the weak beams of light coming out of the truck’s headlights are the only source they have. After that it doesn’t take too long for them to pull up to the rickety little cabin out in the middle of nowhere. It’s an old, beaten up place with weathered oak walls, and a tiny little veranda cluttered with aimless junk, countless jerry cans, and various knick-knacks. The glass window panels were fogged up with dirt and dust, and rattled with each passing breeze. The door was open just a crack, with a warm, golden glow spilling out into the night.
Robert turns off his truck and reaches out towards Joseph, who wordlessly passes him the knife. The kids are all passed out and sprawled across both of their laps, so they carefully maneuver them in order to slide out of the truck. Robert goes ahead first, knife out in front of him, and his other hand keeping Joseph behind him.
When he slowly opens the door the rest of the way, he notices that the cabin is clean. Way too clean. The last time Robert left this place there were dirty clothes, empty liquor bottles, empty beer cans, and wood shavings everywhere, not to mention the whole place smelled like mildew and stale beer. Everything was in its correct place, there was a fire burning in the fireplace, and the smell of something delicious cooking on the fire. The place almost seemed down right cozy.
But then Michael had to come strolling out of the bedroom, still as naked at the day he was born. The gunshot wounds were gone, and his skin was back to being a flawless stretch of white. “Boys… I was wondering when you were going to show up. Dinner should be almost done by now. Why don’t you take a seat, relax a bit? It’s going to be a few more minutes until Mary’s done cooking.” He strolls up to the two of them like it’s the most casual thing ever, and grabs the knife from his hand, and sets it down on the table next to them. “We don’t need this, now do we? How about the three of us go back to that bedroom, and have some fun? We can all be happy together.”
Joseph immediately goes for it, with a smile and bright eyes, but Robert’s arm shoots out to stop him.
“Wait, no… We’re here because…” Why were they here? Oh, right. “Joseph get back to the truck.” He doesn’t wait for the man to respond before shoving him out the door, pulling it close, and flipping the lock down. Damn thing was always broken, and he knows he won’t be able to get it up again. He can hear Joseph banging and screaming against it. “This is the end of the line, Michael. Or is that even your real name? Is Amanda even human? Or is all of this one huge, fucked up lie?”
Michael gives him a saucy wink, and blows him a kiss. “I don’t kiss and tell, Robert. It doesn’t have to be this way, you know? Me, you, and Joseph, we can all be happy together. I mostly wanted Joseph, straight from the start, and I was going to kill you because I knew you were going to be difficult. He has such a special soul, you know that? So delicious, so broken, so desperate. I can’t resist him, and I will have him. You… You’re above average, nothing grand, but I would have liked to have you too. But you’re so God damned stubborn and refuse to play along. But…” His hands slip up Robert’s sides, under his shirt. “I’m willing to give you one last, final chance to prove yourself. Give in to me, and I promise I won’t hurt you, or Joseph, or any of his kids, or even Val.”
And with that, Robert elbows him off, steeling his nerves. “You’re fucking disgusting, and I’m going to make sure you never touch another person, so long as I shall live.”
Michael sighs dramatically and rolls his eyes. “Of course, because you can never let anyone have anything good, can you? And don’t worry honey, I can arrange that.” He pounces at Robert, ready to tear him a new one.
Robert rolls out of the way, knocking the small, wobbly table over in the process, leaving Michael to slam into the door, splintering the wood slightly. He desperately looks for anything he can use, but everything he finds is out of reach. Except… It was only supposed to be there for emergencies, and this is the wrong type of emergency, but one must do what they have to. He pulls it out, and chucks the damn thing as hard as he can at Michael, who’s crouched on all fours, face twisted in rage, and limbs bent at impossible angles.
“Rob… Did you- did you just throw a dildo at me?”
He shrugs his shoulders before reaching for the spare knife hidden under the couch, and launching himself at Michael. He gets in a good slash, starting at his shoulder and going across his pec.
Michael hisses, and grabs Robert by the arm as he goes to make another swing at him, twisting his arm up behind his back. “Real funny, Robert. But you’re going to regret having done that. You’re going to regret having done any of this.” He digs his nails into Robert’s scalp as he anchors his hand in his hair, and leads him over to the dining table, where there are three plates, sets of silverware, and full wine glasses. He smashes Robert’s head against the table, and then again for good measure before flipping him over, and pinning him there by his wrists. “We were supposed to eat Mary here, but I suppose you’ll do to.” He bares his teeth, letting Robert finally get a good look at them for once. They seem like perfectly normal teeth at first, but just like with the rest of Michael, something about them is off. Maybe they’re just a bit too big for his mouth, or perhaps a bit too sharp.
Either way it doesn’t matter, as Michael leans down to his throat.
Screams and gasps for breath fill the air as blood starts pouring everywhere. The sound of flesh sizzling follows, and Michal is desperately reaching for the blue and silver knife sticking out of his back. He crashes into the couch, knocked over table, and a shelf in the process.
Joseph, body trembling, grabs Robert and helps the man limp out of the cabin, towards the barely opened window. He helps the dazed man shimmy through the small gap, sending sprawling into a pile of semi-full jerry cans. Before he can get through the opening himself, he’s being dragged back into the cabin.
“Oh no you don’t!” His voice is distorted, just like before, as if two beasts inside him were competing to speak at the same time. “You’re not going anywhere, Joseph! I’m never letting you go again!” he screams.
Robert wraps his arms tightly around Joseph’s chest, desperately trying to pull him through. Michael seems to be weakened though, and Robert is winning the fight. But he doesn’t get Joseph all the way out without hearing a sickening ‘snap’, and the sound of Joseph wailing in his ear. As soon as the man is free, he carries him over and lays him on the grass.
Shit. There’s bone sticking through his skin, and blood gushing everywhere. All he can do is tear off a strip from his shirt, and tie it as tightly as he can above his knee. “Don’t worry Jojo, I’m going to get you to a hospital, just need to take care of something first.”
Michael’s already trying to climb out through the window as well, but seems to be having trouble with the knife sticking out of his back. Robert pick up one of the many cans scattering the veranda, and splashes the contents directly in his face.
“Gasoline, Robert?” He slips back inside, unnaturally large grin on his face. “You’re going to have to come inside to burn me, and we both know how that’s going to turn out.” The grin devolves into a smirk, and then into a frown as he watches Robert start dumping the contents along the porch.
“Oh no, I’m not going inside. Like you said, we both know how that’s going to turn out. So I’m going to light this motherfucker up and let you burn with it.” Once that can is empty, he starts on all the other partially filled ones, until he’s certain all the walls are coating in it. “Nice knowing you, pal.”
“Robert!” Michael screams, pounding his fists against the glass panes. “You can’t do this!”
“Oh, but I can, and I will.” Robert fishes out a pack of matches from inside his coat pocket, and strikes one before tossing the pack at the cabin.
The place, does indeed, go up like a motherfucker. It hasn’t rained in weeks, so the place is dryer than Robert’s cooking, and soon turns into a bonfire.
There’s loud screaming inside, almost completely overshadowing the rush of flames licking up the oak logs. The kids inside of the truck have the cover their ears until the agonized screams of Michael fade off into dead silence.
Robert strides over to Joseph, whose skin is turning pale, and is making small, pained whimpers. He helps the man up, sight too blurry and head too fuzzy to outright pick him up and carry him. But as he’s helping him to the truck, the sounds of the fire quiet down to a whisper, and a light rapping on glass starts.
“Joseph,” Michael’s voice is completely back to normal now, almost sounding hurt. “Joseph please, help me… It hurts, Joseph. I need you. Come save me…”
And that damn nearly convinces the man, who, even with a broken leg, tries to run off in the direction of the cabin with a compound fracture. And if it weren’t for Robert, he would have. But even with a broken nose and a concussion, he was still stronger than him, and totes Joseph off to his run down, rusted truck.
The five of them drive off into the forest, leaving the cabin, and Michael trapped inside, burning up in hellfire.