Bottled Abyss (31 page)

“Go away—” is what I get out—

That coin itches in my hand—I don’t want to drop it though—close my fingers around it—

“You were in the car when your partner hit a little girl—it was last year—do you remember—?”

“Yes—” I’m able to raise my voice—“Already told you pricks—leave me alone—” But had I told them that—? Shit, my mind is so fucked—I’m just keepin’ quiet—

“I’m glad you remember—now tell me the driver’s name and address—I promise I won’t let it kill you—”

About to ask her what she just said—see something huge step around the curtain—oh holy shit, what the name of God is that thing—? This medicine’s giving me images or something—flipping out, that’s what happening—these cops drugged me and now I’m losing it—but don’t feel high—feel sober, just tired, and that thing is
real
, how though, how is that thing, it looks like a damn dinosaur with Jaws’s head—its teeth, oh please mother of God, it’s getting so close to me now, leaning over the bed— the woman seems afraid of it too—it isn’t just my hallucination—no—

“What were three are now one, and I am Fury—”

The creature has a giant split through its gray head that goes everywhere like a cracking egg—blood leaks out, some of it down over the side of its face and colors its teeth red—the scaly hands look broken, like they were crushed with a hammer over and over again—

“The shit are you—?”

“You have a chance to stay my vengeance,” says the Fury—its voice sounds eager, like it really would like to hear my answer— “Do you know the song? The song my heart wants so badly to hear—?”

“Tell me about the driver—” the woman demanded—“I’ll call the monster off—I promise—”

Nodding—shit if the police have made all this up, then damn, they got me—holy fucking shit—“Okay, okay—Vincent Baker—Meade Apartments on the corner of H and Elmwood in Riverside—don’t know if he’s still there, but he likes how cheap the rent is—”