Damned and Cursed (Book 6): Broken Home Page 8

  "You're not human, are you?"

  His eyes lit up, as if she'd finally said something of interest.

  "Ah, so, you do have a brain in that pretty little skull of yours. I was, once. But humans have a certain set of rules applied to them. And I stopped following those rules a long time ago."

  "You killed everyone, all those people. You killed that boy's mother. Over a cup. Was it worth it?"

  He dismissed her with a wave of his hand. "I didn't get them all, but I killed as many as I could. I gave them a choice. They chose wrong. And you're not looking at the big picture, Janet, something mortals struggle with. What do you think would have happened had I not been here to collect my property today?"

  Byron was quiet, to let his words sink in. Janet thought back to the horrific scene in the church. Chanting, robes, her husband on his knees praying next to a slaughtered goat.

  "You saw what they were doing," he said. "You'll try to convince yourself that never happened, but I know you heard them. You felt them. Like old Ed said, they were coming."

  Janet shivered as she replayed that inhuman moaning in her mind.

  "What were they?"

  "Like I said before, the world isn't what you think it is. If I hadn't been here, they would have summoned something they couldn't have controlled. The church? Up in flames. This entire shit-hole town…what's it called? Blossom? Poof, gone. Shit, I saved this town." He smiled smugly. "I'm a damn hero."

  "You're a murderer."

  Byron shrugged. "Eh, sounds like jealousy to me."

  She held her head in her hands. Her entire world was coming apart. Only twelve hours ago, she was waking up next to her husband after a passionate night together. Ten minutes ago, she watched him being taken away, handcuffed to a gurney, after organizing a cult ceremony.

  "What am I supposed to do now?" she whispered.

  The question wasn't meant for Byron, but he answered anyway.

  "I don't care. Divorce your husband, suck his dick, study the supernatural world. Whatever gets your blood pumping. Whatever you do…." He slid the suitcase toward her with his foot. "This will help you get started."

  "What's in there?"

  "Money. Consider it a parting gift, for the lovely day we had together."

  Janet stared into his eyes, looking for any signs of deception. He was completely serious.

  "I don't want your money. I don't need your money."

  "Janet, I'm going to get up and walk away. I'm going to leave that suitcase there. If a hobo walks by and takes it, I don't care. But who would get better use out of all the green that's in there? A hobo, or you?"

  She grudgingly shifted the suitcase closer to her. He rose to his feet.

  "That's what I thought." Surveying the ordeal around them that would no doubt make the national news, an eerie smile crossed his face. "Well, I've got what I came here for. My business is done. I hope we never see each other again."

  "Yeah. Believe me, that makes two of us."

  Byron took one step, but froze. Janet stared at his back for a moment, watching him struggle with something. He turned and sat next to Janet once again, a conflicted look in his eye. She waited patiently for whatever he had to say.

  "I'm only telling you this because I almost respect you. Your oldest daughter, Sarah, you have to kill her. Elizabeth, there might be hope for her. But Sarah…she's got to go."

  Janet jumped up and clenched both fists. It took everything she had not to lash out in anger.

  "What?!"

  "Or drop her off at the dog pound. Whatever. I know it won't be easy. If you want, you and I can work out a deal—"

  "What are you talking about? What the hell is wrong with you?"

  Byron stood up and matched her angry gaze.

  "Keep your voice down, Janet. In case you haven't noticed, cops are running around everywhere. Tell me, have you even looked into that little clubhouse the brats have going on?"

  She blinked in surprise at the question.

  "N-No."

  Byron smirked. "You might want to take a peek. And with that, I will take my leave." He was nearly to the sidewalk, carrying his cup, when he spun mid-stride. "Oh, Janet, one more thing." He pointed to the church. "You might want to stay away from there. Lot of bad shit in there, maybe even worse than me. Maybe."

  Janet watched him walk down the street. He casually tossed his cup in the air, like it was a tennis ball, before catching it. He didn't look back, didn't wave. Slowly, he grew smaller until she could no long see him.

  She took a deep breath as she looked across the grass. The suitcase felt heavier than she would have thought. Sarah, Elizabeth, and Mark were sitting in a row. Their conversation was a mystery, but they seemed to be in slightly better spirits as she approached. Mark was solemn, but smiled once. Sarah had her arm around his shoulders, and Elizabeth talked nonstop.

  If there were any doubts about her children's character, it vanished immediately when Sarah kissed Mark on the cheek and reached out to hug her sister. Sarah and Elizabeth were good kids. Janet didn't care what Byron thought about them. Byron had already proven over the course of the day that whatever he'd evolved into, he'd lost touch with humanity long ago.

  "Mom," Sarah said. "Mark's dad won't be home for a while. The police are going to try to call him, but can he stay with us tonight?"

  Janet hesitated, and guilt gnawed at her. Mark's family was broken, just like hers. She wasn't sure if she'd ever be able to look at Mark again without seeing his mother, Mary, dressed in a robe, wanting to summon something dark.

  "Sure," she forced herself to say.

  Elizabeth reached for her mother's hand.

  "Is Daddy going to get better?"

  A lumped formed in Janet's throat. "I-I think so, baby." She wasn't even sure if she was lying. "We're going to do everything we can to help him." Her eyes teared over at the thought of the house without Ed in it.

  Sarah hugged her mother around the waist. The simple gesture filled her with strength and hope.

  "Don't worry, Mom. We'll be okay."

  Janet smiled and blinked away the tears.

  "Yes. Yes, we will be. Let's go home."

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  It's time for a new "About The Author". :) I like to write. I've been telling stories since I was child, writing some terrible stuff. But the imagination was there, and I'd like to think the writing has finally caught up with it. I like to either do my best to create something new, or take an old idea and put my own spin on it. That's why there are works with a human that can live with zombies, or an interesting universe full of the supernatural.

  I hope you've enjoyed the short story Broken Home. Short stories aren't something I usually write, but the Damned and Cursed universe is full of potential tales out there, both long and short. For those who are familiar with that universe, I'm sure you picked up on who Byron really was, along with maybe some of the other characters. :) Stop by my website to discuss anything you want.

  Visit my website at http://www.glennbullion.com

  Total works by Glenn Bullion:

  Demonspawn

  Dead Living

  Mind Slide

  A Witch to Live

  Jack Kursed

  Soul Insurance

  Demon's Doorway

  Witch's Kurse

  Broken Home