Saturday Night at Smitty's, part 10

I’ve never fit in here, never been one of them, even though I’ve lived here my entire life. I never wanted to be one of them, to be honest. But sometimes, I like to watch. They can be…amusing. I’ve never killed any of them, at least not on purpose, although on occasion I have played with them for a bit of sport, to ease my boredom with this place, like a cat playing with a mouse. They fear me. They fear their own stories of me. The truth, I fear, is much worse.


So I watched them down there in their hovel, trying to drink their fears away. Gathering together as if there actually were safety in numbers. Numbing their already worthless minds with alcohol. I’m not sure sometimes if it is hate or pity that I feel for them.

I have to admit that I probably caused the whole thing. A bit of a practical joke. Then sat up here on the hillside just watching all the pieces fall into place in a lovely display of human fireworks. Most people, these ones in particular, are so stupid and easily manipulated, it’s barely even fun anymore. But, it’s something to do on a Saturday night.

And the moon was so stunning that night, casting fantastic shadows from every swaying tree branch, every moving being. I could see the small creatures scuttling beneath the dead leaves, illuminated as they were by the blue glow of the moon’s smiling face. I watched and watched and watched and then pounced! My long sharp teeth punctured the furry little creature, so juicy with warm blood, I nearly forgot about the people below.

Then I saw her come running out into the parking lot – that frantic look of prey on her twisted face and my instincts took over. I was down there before I realized what I was doing but somehow I resisted the hunt – the human part of me still very much alive and aware - and let loose that wonderful howl that feels so good as it reaches out from my throat into the icy night air.