Just over a month ago a boy went missing
Posted: Fri Feb 05, 2010 2:53 pm
Just over a month ago a boy went missing while playing soccer with his friends. He was walking home with his ball and that is the last that anybody saw him. As soon as I learned of this incident I began canvassing the immediate area, starting at dusk and not ending until dawn.
"A real frightening freak. A face not even a mother could love. There's something off about that guy and it's not just because he doesn't share his booze, which he seems to always have plenty of."
That was a description I picked up from a contact when canvassing about a new 'resident'. It was a description of a possible suspect but it didn't help narrow my search grid as nobody knew where he stayed.
My police scanner crackled with the typical, but then something caught my attention. A drunken hulk was at the subway causing some problems and security alerted the cops. I jumped on my motorcycle and sped to the station as fast as I could, trying to get there before the cops. I arrived a few blocks from the subway, parked, and posed as a homeless outside the station.
Was this the break I was looking for?
The information on the scanner said that they had run him off and in a second a hulk exactly like my contact had described emerged from the station. The cops were a few steps behind the hulk, which I knew to be a monster, a fiend most evil, a Lost Soul that needed to be returned to the Shepherd.
The cops continued to walk my way and the hulk went the opposite direction. As the cops passed me, I nodded with a slight smile, "officers." They ignored me, like they always do. As they passed I donned my balaclava and goggles and kept the hulk in my sight. I didn't care if he saw me.
I could not save the child but I could prevent the fiend from killing again. Tonight was the night. The photograph. The parents. The sister. They appeared in my mind's eye. May they find comfort knowing that those who die in the eyes of the Most High die as saints. Their labors are over. They toil no more. Their deeds follow them to their heavenly abodes, built not by human hands. While I long for my heavenly dwelling, I cannot ignore my Calling, my labors are not over, I continue to toil.
The fiend feigned intoxication. He stumbled along the street scaring people with growls and barking insults and threats. I readied myself for action, I repositioned my coat to allow access to an assortment of weapons. I waited for the right moment to strike.
A hissing cat on a window sill drew the fiend's attention. The monster lept trying to grab the cat, but the cat was too fast. It escaped the monster. But the monster would not escape me. I drew my silenced rifle. Double tap. I saw small puffs of cotton ejected from the fiend's clothes, I heard the brass casings bouncing around on the ground. The fiend howled in pain and stumbled, dropping its bottle. Double tap. The monster went to the ground. Double tap. The monster tried to regain its feet. But I was already on top of him. My blades severed his disgusting head from his body. Hundreds of rats scurried here and there, radiating from where the corpse of the monster once was.
I continued on the direction I had been tracking the fiend. I noted the concentration of cats in the area. I knew I was close to the fiend's lair. After a couple more hours I found the lair. I found an assortment of pliers, blowtorches, metal pipes, screwdrivers, and prybars - all showing sign of use, almost certainly not for their intended purpose. Several rolls of duct tape and coils of rope. I found in a duffel bag a number of small human skulls, photographs faded by time and perhaps some water damage. And a soccer ball. The little boy was in my mind's eye. I was comforted knowing that precious in the eyes of the Most High are the deaths of his saints.
Our toils achieve for us an eternal glory that far outweigh them.
"A real frightening freak. A face not even a mother could love. There's something off about that guy and it's not just because he doesn't share his booze, which he seems to always have plenty of."
That was a description I picked up from a contact when canvassing about a new 'resident'. It was a description of a possible suspect but it didn't help narrow my search grid as nobody knew where he stayed.
My police scanner crackled with the typical, but then something caught my attention. A drunken hulk was at the subway causing some problems and security alerted the cops. I jumped on my motorcycle and sped to the station as fast as I could, trying to get there before the cops. I arrived a few blocks from the subway, parked, and posed as a homeless outside the station.
Was this the break I was looking for?
The information on the scanner said that they had run him off and in a second a hulk exactly like my contact had described emerged from the station. The cops were a few steps behind the hulk, which I knew to be a monster, a fiend most evil, a Lost Soul that needed to be returned to the Shepherd.
The cops continued to walk my way and the hulk went the opposite direction. As the cops passed me, I nodded with a slight smile, "officers." They ignored me, like they always do. As they passed I donned my balaclava and goggles and kept the hulk in my sight. I didn't care if he saw me.
I could not save the child but I could prevent the fiend from killing again. Tonight was the night. The photograph. The parents. The sister. They appeared in my mind's eye. May they find comfort knowing that those who die in the eyes of the Most High die as saints. Their labors are over. They toil no more. Their deeds follow them to their heavenly abodes, built not by human hands. While I long for my heavenly dwelling, I cannot ignore my Calling, my labors are not over, I continue to toil.
The fiend feigned intoxication. He stumbled along the street scaring people with growls and barking insults and threats. I readied myself for action, I repositioned my coat to allow access to an assortment of weapons. I waited for the right moment to strike.
A hissing cat on a window sill drew the fiend's attention. The monster lept trying to grab the cat, but the cat was too fast. It escaped the monster. But the monster would not escape me. I drew my silenced rifle. Double tap. I saw small puffs of cotton ejected from the fiend's clothes, I heard the brass casings bouncing around on the ground. The fiend howled in pain and stumbled, dropping its bottle. Double tap. The monster went to the ground. Double tap. The monster tried to regain its feet. But I was already on top of him. My blades severed his disgusting head from his body. Hundreds of rats scurried here and there, radiating from where the corpse of the monster once was.
I continued on the direction I had been tracking the fiend. I noted the concentration of cats in the area. I knew I was close to the fiend's lair. After a couple more hours I found the lair. I found an assortment of pliers, blowtorches, metal pipes, screwdrivers, and prybars - all showing sign of use, almost certainly not for their intended purpose. Several rolls of duct tape and coils of rope. I found in a duffel bag a number of small human skulls, photographs faded by time and perhaps some water damage. And a soccer ball. The little boy was in my mind's eye. I was comforted knowing that precious in the eyes of the Most High are the deaths of his saints.
Our toils achieve for us an eternal glory that far outweigh them.