From a shed’s window, a little green candlelight flickers. The shed creaks loud, a board falls. Countless animals howl and skitter on the sudden burst of wind. The candle suddenly goes out.

  An old man lunges out from his sleep with a stammer, “God-damn!” He yaps loud as his hand jerks a revolver out his pocket.

  The chittering scampers across the room under total darkness. His hand shakes violently as the gun fires a round. Sawdust explodes and gets in his eyes. He gasps with an open mouth and turns on the lamp and relights the candle. He rolls his eyes, “Damn it!” He quickly darts around the room and then chuckles, “You didn’t get me this time!” He giggles and the shed’s wall cracks. His eyes widen and he takes a step back. A plaque fell down.

  Bones crack violently as the old man watches, “No.” He shoots at something, the sound of flesh tearing and whizzing through wood echo. A loud crash follows. He heaves as something growls low. “No!” He steps backward and loads his revolver with a speed loader. Bullets plunk out on the floor as he backs up. “I killed you! I'll do it again!” He screams and fires some more. Animals howl in his ears. "Y-you- you can't take me!" He quivers and puts the gun in his mouth as antlers envelop him in shadows. A loud jaw snaps open and the gun goes off.

  A shiny new black car drives down the road, kicking up gravel. Rock music plays as its driver stares blankly ahead. A key slips out an open envelope on the dash. It thuds against the floor and as he looks down at it. A car beeps. He jerks his head up and stomps on the brakes. He looks back as a truck passes him. A man whoops and raises his beer to the sky, all from the back of the truck.

  He rests his head on the steering wheel with a huff. “It’s just for a couple months.” He lifts his head and steps on the gas slowly.

  Pulling into the gas station, an old woman leans back in a leather recliner with a cigarette hanging out her mouth. He waves and she leans forward to get a good look at him.

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  He gets out the car and she watches him close as he walks inside, a bell rings as two men stop talking to stare at me. “Sorry- I need some gas?” One squints as the other whispers and the first nods up at him, “Yeah, just go sit by your car. Be there in a minute.”

  They go back to talking as he walks right back outside. “Just passing through?”, she questioned. He sighs, “I wish.” As he’s walking away, she raises her voice, “What are you here for?” He presses his lips and reluctantly turns around, “I’m moving in.”

  The old man comes out scratching his neck. He leans against his car and the old man puts the nozzle in the tank, “You look familiar.” He shrugs, “Maybe I’ve got that kind of face.” He glances in the back seat and his eyes widen for a second.

  He turns his head away from his stare. The pump stops and the old man nods, “This one’s on me, kid.”

  He pulls out a five and puts it to his chest, “Keep the change.” He shrugs and takes the money and walks away.

  “You’re already friends with that stranger, John?” He smiles as that tall man in a dirty suit and disheveled tie gets in his shiny black car, “That’s Philip.” She turns and squints, “That’s Philip!?” He nods as he drives off with no plates.

  Philip’s heart skips a beat at the front metal gate swinging in the wind. The other gate fell off. He gets out and leans a plank against the gate post. He sighs, beer cans and trash bags lay scattered across the yard. Countless empty bags of salt. The paint on the siding is worn, “How is this place still standing?” He takes a deep breath and blows at the house. He shuts off the car and opens the rear door.

  He tuts at the tiny office box his boss gave him. The many suits all worn in and dirty in the back seat. Leaning on the car’s roof, he shuts his eyes and covers his mouth.

  WIP

  sighs and presses his lips together. He jerks and throws the box out the car and all the useless trash and trinkets sprawl out.

  C shouts at the house, “Better than suffering a lousy drunk!” He kicks a beer can, “I was somebody up there with those big street lights and nice cars-” He shakes his head, “Now I’m right back where I started.” His knees hit the ground, “Only you’re not here anymore.”

  With a moment to scrape himself off the ground, he puts his things back in the box and goes inside.

  His eyes widen, the inside is spotless. “It’s even cleaner than I remember.”