Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Caleb had stopped reciting his story to judge the priest’s reaction. He stayed quiet for several moments, but as he realized the priest wasn’t going to speak unless spoken to he began.
“You seem as if you are thinking hard on what I am saying father,”
“I am wondering the truth of the words you are telling me my son,” the priest responded bluntly. “It is not that I do not have faith in all of God’s sons and daughters, but as you are well aware of I am sure, one does not come across such a tale everyday, even one whose religion is their life as mine is.”
Caleb pondered this for a moment. “Well father, it is like our belief in God, I can not show you nor prove to you that what I am saying is truth, I can just ask you to have a little faith in me that what I tell you is all true. I remember every detail as if it happened only moments ago.”
“Interesting point.” The priest said. “I am curious nonetheless, about your story and would like you to continue, and I promise I will try and share my faith with your tale.”
“I’d appreciate that father. Now that you have heard how it all began, I can hurry my story along. I have a question that needs answering father, and I only hope you can help me.”
“I will give whatever guidance I can my son, please continue.” When the priest finished, Caleb started from where he left off.

I still sat at the lunch bar staring at the diner around me, when Margaret came back in through the kitchen door waving at me to come with her. I slid off the stool and walked over to her.
“Alright c’mon now sugar, lets get this dirt and muck off the rest of your body. I have a nice hot bath running, here ya go,” she handed me a soft green towel that was almost the length of my body. Margaret took me through the kitchen to where I could see the door that had brought me in to the diner in the first place. We went to the left of that door up some old wooden stairs and I saw where the old couple lived. It had a living room another smaller yellow kitchen and as I was walked down the hall, I passed two bedrooms. I heard the running water coming from straight ahead, and at the end of the hall was where the bathroom was. The walls leading to the bathroom were painted a creamy white that seemed to be fading with age. I walked in to the steam filled bathroom, and the thought of being clean struck me as the most amazing thing I could have asked for at that moment. I stripped my clothes off right in front of Margaret with no shame and nearly leaped in to the tub. Just as my feet were about to enter the water I heard Margaret scream.
“Noooo child, the water is too hot.” Only it was too late. My feet hit the scalding water with the rest of my body following suit and I sat down in the tub. My body was practically hidden from Margaret’s eye sight in the steam, as she ran over to me. With an audible gasp she asked.
“Caleb…” She paused. “Are you alright?” She asked, eyeing me eerily as I should have been screaming with pain at this point, only I couldn’t feel the extreme heat of the water. All I could feel was that I was in liquid that could cleanse me the same way it had after my parents had died. I stared up at Margaret and smiled.
“I’m ok, thank you for the nice bath,” I finished as I tried to find a wash rag and soap through the steam.
Margaret put her hand in the water and pulled it back fast with a yelp. “Caleb get out of that water instantly,” and she grabbed me by my under arms and pulled me out. “You must be in shock about your family boy, I am so, so sorry. Let’s wait ‘till the water cools a little, then you can hop right back in. You look like a tomato right now. You must be a strong child, come her precious,” she said as she hugged me close to her sagging bosom. She smelled of honeysuckles and through all of the turmoil that had happened in my short life, at that moment, in that bathroom, being held by Margaret I was happy. Jacob came in the bathroom during our special moment looking worried.
“I heard a scream, what’s the matter?” he asked
“Nothing dear,” Margaret answered still holding me close. “Nothing at all.”’


“Well father that’s the beginning of the next chapter of my life, I hope I am not keeping you from anything on your schedule today. “
The priest stayed quite for a moment and than quietly answered. “I can reschedule the other meeting with sincere apologies. I would like to hear the rest of you life story. I am finding it most intriguing.”
“As I knew you would father, and do not worry it gets even more interesting yet, but not for several years. It seems the man in white had almost forgotten about me through my preteen years. When I hit puberty however, he seemed to take another interest in me, as if those years aren’t hard enough in a young man’s life.”
“Yes, yes they are. But if Satan, if I’m guessing correctly about who you gave your soul too, indeed had control of your soul, than you were his too command. Although there is a hole in your story my son, as a child you giving your soul to Satan is…” The priest was cut off by Caleb.
“No no no, I will get to that in time. This is my story and I imagine I know what you were about to say. I will explain in time father if that is alright?”
“Go on,” was all that the priest said.
Caleb collected his thoughts for a moment and then began.


‘The state and the sheriff had found out that it was in fact, my parents who had died in the awful Fletcher house fire, and they had also found out that I didn’t have any more family anywhere else. Margaret and Caleb, whom had never gotten around to getting married but were deeply in love, and had been for the last 50 years, would not let me be put up by the state. They had simply refused. So with the sheriff’s help they filled out all the paper work, went through all of the procedures and were granted custody of me. I lived in their apartment above the diner, went to school with other kids in the small town, and grew in to a teenager, with no remorse for my past, and no appearances from the man in white. That was until I was about 16 years old.
I realize that I must have been an awkward lonely kid because I never had any friends and everyone just avoided me. No one teased me, but no one ever tried to play with me either, my adopted parents found this very strange. I had come to notice, or maybe realize now that Jacob, whom I had started calling pa, was very wary of me. Not to say he didn’t love me, he took me in to his home and gave me everything I could ask for. The more I grew the further he distanced himself from me. I would catch him staring at me and shaking his head. I had come home one day from school early. I had been suspended for hitting a boy named Tommy Weaver in the face with a wooden board in shop class. When I walked in the front door Margaret, whom I had started calling ma, was waiting for me. The look on her face was not one of anger, but one of sadness. She was blinded by pity, and in her eyes I could do know wrong. Pa’s vision was quite clear however, and he slapped me in the back of my head before I had taken a second step past the front door. Over the years his contempt for me had started leaking through. I think maybe jealousy over taking his Margaret’s time away from him. Or maybe he knew, somehow he just knew. After the slap to my head I stared in to his dark eyes, face to face with the loving man who had brought me in his home and I had begun to hate him. A fire had started burning in my belly and I knew there was only one way to stop the pain.
“If I wasn’t a good Christian boy I’d throw you out of my house right this instant,” he snarled. His hot breath and spittle hit my face through his gritted teeth.
“Jacob please,” Ma begged.
“You stay out of this Margaret,” Pa yelled, his features softening a little as he realized how harsh his tone had been with the love of his life. “This boy needs discipline, and somehow we just haven’t been able to give it to him. You sent poor Tommy to the hospital you know. Your principal phones us at the diner and told us you broke his nose, his cheekbone, and Lord only knows about his eyes. Why? Why’d ya do it boy?”
“Because he hit me on the back of my head,” I answered. Pa’s face turned bright red and I just stared at him, the fire in my belly grew with my rage and my hands started to tremble. Just then a voice pounded my brain as if there were fists in my skull.
“Not yet Caleb, but the time will come.” The voice in my head laughed. “Oh how you amuse me so, I’ve been watching you over the years my son and I feel it’s time you and I become reacquainted. Not now, but soon,” and the voice was gone.
“Lord almighty what are you staring at boy? Have you lost your marbles?”
“Jacob please, he’s scared,” Margaret pleaded again.
“Scared? I’m scared. He does nothing but sit at his window and stare. He rarely ever talks, and you treat him like he’s an infant. Something’s not right with you boy, I’ve felt it for a long time now. Something just ain’t right.” I was still staring in to Pa’s eyes. “Don’t eyeball me BOY,” he hissed. “I may be an old man, but I will still be shown respect in my own house. Go to your room.” I still stood there staring in to his eyes. “I said go to you room,” and Ma came and put her arms around my shoulders and led me to my bedroom.
I’m sorry Caleb, I fear his temper is fading with the years. You shouldn’t have hurt that boy though,” Ma was shaking her head as she was talking. “Hurting somebody is never the answer; it’ll just hurt you in the end even more.” She stared at me as we reached the door to my room. “Now you go in there and la down for a while and I’ll try to cool the old man down.” She must have seen something in my eyes because she reached her hand up and started rubbing her hand through my shaggy brown hair. I was about 5’9 now, with sharp, dark features. “You were God’s gift to me Caleb; I had always wanted a boy. God heard me; maybe if you talk to him he’ll hear you too.”
I opened my door and walked in to my room. She had shut the door behind me, but not all the way. I sat for a moment listening and then slowly crept out of my room to hear the conversation they were having. Pa was sitting in his favorite brown chair and ma was standing in front of him. Though barely audible I still managed to hear their conversation
“He’s just a boy Jacob, he doesn’t know any better.”
“Just a boy or not Margery, I just can’t do it any more I am too old. There is something up with that boy in there, I felt it ever since the sheriff first told us it was his parents that dies in the fire.” Pa took a deep breath and then sighed. “I just don’t know what to do, I love the boy, I do, but something is just not right.”
“Maybe if we took him out of this town for a while, like a trip or something it could get him back to the right mind. We could take him camping, you could show him how to fish, and hike. Maybe the peacefulness of nature will take some of his troubles away. What he went through no child should have to go through and I’m not giving up on him.”
“I know you aren’t Margery, that’s one of the reason I love you so much.” Pa sighed again. “Maybe I am just being an old fool, or maybe my age is just finally getting to me. I could do with some nature myself; I haven’t been out that way in years, and maybe you’re right, I think it will do some good for the boy. Thank God for Tiffany, we can have her watch and run the diner while we’re gone…” Pa’s voice trailed off as I quietly snuck back to my bedroom. I shut the door behind me and locked it and went to the corner of my room behind my bed. There was a floorboard there that you would never know was loose unless you moved it yourself. I pushed it aside and there was the ruby hilted dagger that had been giving to me years before. I picked it up and a sense of cool pleasure ran through my body. I had found that as the days and weeks had gone by that the man and white hadn’t talked to me, the less and less I had needed to keep the dagger close to my skin, until I didn’t need to touch it at all. I sill made sure I looked at it every night and talked to it before I went to sleep. As I was holding the dagger, there was a knock at my door.
“Caleb, it’s your Pa, I’m sorry about our fight, I just want you to do good. If you’ll open the door, me and your Ma have a surprise to tell ya.” With his last words I put the dagger in my waist band, pushed the floor board back and unlocked and opened the door. There was a creak of the old hinges and Jacob stood in the doorway with a stern look on his face. It soon broke out in to a small smile as he told me what they had planned for the weekend. I grew excited and my Pa could see it and smiled even wider. In my head a soft laugh echoed.
As much as my Pa had started to resent me, he had tried, I believe, to give it his all to love me and raise me in to a good God fearing man. He had constantly taken me outside, on my lazy weekends to play catch with me. He had taught me how to shave, and how to cook. He had tried to get me to read the bible, but every time I tried I was just too tired or suddenly became sick. What was the most fun to me and what I was most appreciative to learn, was him teaching me how to drive. He had a beautiful cherry red ’55 Chevy that was in perfect condition and every time I got behind the wheel I felt free. I had picked it up rather quickly and I feel it was the only time that Pa and I had bonded. That was the car he had taken up to the camp site, in the mountains about 50 miles from our house. He didn’t let me drive this time, but Ma had insisted I sit up in the front seat so we could talk. To her dismay there wasn’t much said other than, the ride won’t be too long, and you’ll have fun when we get there, you’ll see. I loved being outside so I was sure he was right.
When we pulled up next to the river, I popped my ears one last time and got out of the car. The sun was high in the sky, dissected by the tree branches overhead. My eyes followed the brownish blue river until it was lost in the trees and I closed my eyes. A breeze passed through my hair and the smell of pine clung to my nose. I was free. I looked straight ahead at Margaret and her face was all smiles with tears glistening in her eyes.
“This was where Jacob used to take me way back when. This is where we fell in love, and then not to much later, this is also where he proposed.” I stared at Margaret for a moment basking in her love and serenity. Jacob had come over to stand next to me, and I peered up at his face, tiger striped by the trees’ shadows. He was smiling a loving smile as he put his hand on my shoulder.
“We would catch fish and pick berries and have a feast, like we are going to do this time Caleb. This is where mine and Margaret’s life really began; this is what life is…” He never finished the sentence as his head slumped on to my shoulder. I hadn’t even realized I had grabbed the knife, which was in my hand and in Pa’s gut, out of my waistband. Warm liquid poured over my hand as I pushed Pa to the ground. He was still alive yet he was groaning and fading fast. I pulled the ruby hilted blade slowly out of his gut, and he cried with pain, trying to yell for Margaret. His yells were barely more than inaudible wheezes. I heard myself laugh then. I stood up and turned to see Margaret silent, and shaking in shock. Pa was writhing in pain on the ground at my feet, a pool of blood welling up around him, slowly trying to stretch in to the river. His eyes were fixed on his beloved. I backed away a couple feet and could feel my face smile.
“Margaret,” I yelled. “Go to your loving husband.” As if awakened by my words she stopped shaking and immediately ran to Jacob and crouched over his dying body. The blood soaked in to the hem of her dress as she rubbed her hands on Jacob’s face, sobbing.
“Not like this,” she wept. “Not like this,” she repeated as she turned her tear stained face in my direction. “We took you in and raised you like one of our own, why? Why’d you do this Caleb?” Her tears were mixing in with Jacob’s blood and I started growing excited. Margaret had turned her head back to Jacob as she cradled his head in her arms rocking back and forth. I looked hard in to his cold eyes and he wouldn’t blink. I knew he was still alive but he kept his deathly gaze on me. I kept my eyes back on his as I walked up behind Margaret. So sad was she that she didn’t even realize I was behind her. Jacob’s eyes stayed fixed on mine, and I could see nothing but the utmost contempt and hatred pouring out at me. He couldn’t talk because of the pain, and Margaret was paralyzed with grief. Still looking in to Jacob’s eyes, I felt myself smile again as I slipped the knife to the front of Margaret’s throat, and slit it ear to ear. The blood rushed out all over Jacob’s face as she slumped over on him. Small wheezing noises came from the slice in her throat as she tried to breathe. His eyes were still on mine, yet he shut them once in pain, I couldn’t tell if it was physical or emotional. His face was barely recognizable through all of the blood oozing down his cheeks, over his lips and eyes and yet still he stared at me. With Margaret’s life seeping out of her on to him, he never took his eyes off of me. I was the first one to break the eye contact as I walked over to where he and Margaret were laying. I squatted down in the pool of blood and tears, which had now formed a nice stream that was almost at the river. I could feel Jacob’s eyes burning through me as I crouched over Margaret. I could tell from his shallow breaths that he was not far off from taking death’s hand. I pushed Margaret’s body completely on to Jacob’s head and I rifled through his pockets to find the keys. I found them in his left jacket pocket. I stood up and jingled the keys over the two bloody bodies, and admired my handiwork. I couldn’t see Jacob’s eyes anymore through Margaret or all of the blood, but I imagine that he was still staring right through all of that and at me. I could still see his chest moving up and down as I turned around and walked to the car. I opened the door of the cherry red ’55 Chevy and climbed in. I shut the door put the key in the ignition and turned on the radio just in time to hear Bobby Darin’s, Mack the knife. I looked over one last time and could still see Jacob’s chest move in short rapid compressions. He was smothered by his beloved Margaret, as I noticed the stream of blood and tears had made it to the river finally. I never knew how long it took Jacob to die as I closed my eyes.
I was awakened by laughter and the clapping of hands. My eyes came in to focus as I peered through the foggy windshield and viewed someone I had not seen in years, the man in white crouching over the bodies of my old ma and pa. He had stopped clapping and stuck his finger in to the blood on the dead woman's neck. He slid his finger across the open wound as a child might with icing on a birthday cake. He stuck the bloody finger in his mouth locking his eyes with mine and he smiled. I knew my eyes were opened wide with shock because he was still smiling at me. I knew I had killed my "foster" parents but I didn't know why and I thought I was gonna be sick after watching the man in white taste them both. The smiling man motioned for me to get out of the car, but I shook my head no. He cocked his head sideways and as soon as I blinked he was gone, only to appear right next to me in a passenger seat. I screamed as he sat shaking his head making a clicking sound with his tongue.
"Caleb, Caleb, Caleb, what am I going to do with you boy? You are going around murdering people close to you making me all joyous. I'm not supposed to be happy I'm suppose to be sad and ominous, terrifying even, but not happy. How do I look to the common mortal if I am happy all the time? No Caleb, it just doesn't fit with the balance of things." The man in white laughed. "But I can't lie to you my boy it sure does feel good to smile again, it's been a while, it sure has been a while. Now, let’s get to business. You did good and because of that I'm going to grant you a little wish if you may, I can be your genie of sorts," as he was speaking he took his thumb nail which seemed to grow long, black and sharp in front of my eyes, and slice his arm. His eyes rolled up in to his head in ecstasy as a thick black liquid that I assumed to be blood began leaking down his arm. "Ahhhhhh," he sighed. "Now drink my son." Horrified I shook my head hoping the man in white wasn't serious. "I wasn't asking boy." The man in white put his hand on the back of my head and lowered my face to the black blood on his arm. I tried resisting at first but there was no point, he was too strong. My lips touched the dark blood and I gagged as the bitterness of it reached my taste buds. It coated my lips and throat like cough syrup and I felt like a vampire like in one of the stories I had read at my late pa's house. "Dracula," I believe the story was called. My mind wandered while I was forced to keep drinking down the disgusting liquid.
"Ahh yes like Dracula, my little vampire, I like that idea Caleb my boy. You will have quite a blood lust after this. No fangs I'm sad to say but..." The man in white grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled my head back up. "That was good wasn't it?" He smiled. "Like I was saying, you will not have any fangs, but all of your senses will be heightened, and you shall be stronger and faster than any normal mortal. This is my gift to you, enjoy, I'll be checking in on you later. Head east towards Virginia, you and I should have a lot of fun out that way."
He sat staring at me for a moment as I bean to smell the bitterness coming from the pitch colored blood now dissolving off of the man in white's arm. I looked out of the car in to the forest around me and about 50 yards ahead I watched ants crawling on a tree, and I could hear fish swimming in the river. Testing out my new gifts I began wondering why this man had taken such an interest in me. Why me? This immortal question that plagues all of mankind, why me?
Reading my mind the man in white answered. "That's a question to be answered at another time. Enjoy your new... “He paused looking me over. "Talents. We will talk another time. It hasn't been ten years since me and an angry man with a little mustache treated the world like a playground and here I am, already at it again. I don’t know if I can top what he was capable of." The man in white laughed again. "God was he good at it,” again he laughed. "Get it; God was he good at it." The laughing stayed in my head as the man in white disappeared. I was only fourteen years old but I started turned the key in the ignition and began my trip to Virginia. I glanced at myself in the rearview mirror and saw that my eyes had turned from brown to black and an evil smile played upon my lips. I was only fourteen but it felt like I had been around forever holding the world by its neck.

The moon came swiftly as I was still sitting in the red Chevy pondering my life. I was ignorant about so much in life, and yet I was killing people with reckless abandon. No purpose to it as far as I could tell, it seemed I was just a tool to satisfy the man in white's boredom. I gripped the jeweled dagger that I had put on the passenger seat and pain instantly struck my head. My eyes saw white with black rimmed around in it and I opened the door to empty my stomach. The thoughts in my head were no more as the pain subsided. I regained my composure, put the dagger back on the seat, stuck the key in the ignition and started the car. I looked up and saw the full moon in the distance. I started off down the dirt road towards the moon.
I drove until I found a paved road and then I followed that road until I got to a little gas station on the side of the road. I noticed the gas station had an all night diner inside of it and although I wasn't hungry I knew I had to eat. I parked my car by the first pump and an attendant came out to service my car. He had grey overalls on and salt and pepper hair. His face was tanned leather, and the stubble covering it was a few days old. He had an angry stare and didn't say a word to me but he went about this job like I was anybody else. I grabbed the blade, got out of the car and went inside the diner and sat down at a table. The place was dimly lit and completely empty of customers. There were five tables in the place standing a rotten wooden floor. The dirt from the floor seemed to have crawled in to the kitchen which was out in the open behind the counter. I only saw one obese old woman behind it. She eyeballed me for a moment before she spoke up.
"What'll it be sonny?" she asked with a raspy voice. Cigarettes had ruined her voice, as she lit one up. "Well what'll you have?" she asked a little more sternly.
"Bacon, eggs and toast please ma'am." I looked out of the diner window at the night sky. The moon had been covered with clouds and the stars were hiding as well. There was nothing at all for miles around yet I was filled with a strange purpose to go to Virginia. Where in Virginia I had no idea, what I was going to do when I got there seemed even more elusive to me but I was told to go so I knew I had to go. I didn't even notice that I could see everything outside as if the full moon were still out. I was still deep in thought when a noise from outside brought back my attention. I noticed the old angry man was inside my car digging around. I stood up to go outside when the waitress came with my food.
"What are you doing boy? There's nothing out there, now sit down and eat your food." She blew cigarette smoke in my face with a little smile struggling to life the fat on her cheeks. I stood there looking at the old woman seeing every open pore on her face, I was almost gagging from the body odor that was pouring off of her body and snaking its way to my nostrils. I could hear the tiny squeaking sounds her lungs made each time she inhaled; I could also hear the old man laughing outside as he was rummaging through my stuff. The old woman had put her hand on my shoulder pushing me toward the booth. I watched the sweat drip from under the black hairnet that held her short, curly, blonde hair. Her blue work uniform was a light blue dress, with white in the middle. She was too big to be wearing anything of the sorts.
"I said sit down and eat your meal boy, you respect your elders and do what you’re told," She finished while pushing even harder on my shoulder.
"That old man needs to stop going through my stuff," I demanded, the anger pouring out of my words. The old woman's eyes went wide as she leaned to the side and peered out the window and couldn't see a thing.
"How the hell...." she muttered. The ruby hilted dagger was stabbed behind her ear before she even had time to ponder the occurrence. Blood trickled out of her nose as fell to the ground, the dagger slicing up as I kept a firm grip on it as she fell. I sat back down and began eating the meal she had prepared. It was surprisingly good.
I had almost finished when the old man strolled through the door with a sack slung over his shoulder. He turned to look at me and his eyes went wide with shock. "What's in the bag old man?" I asked menacingly. I stared him down for a moment as he finally noticed his obese counterpart lying in a bloody heap on the floor. My breakfast had gotten a little bit bigger as the old man saw there were chunks of fat cut from the old woman's face. I stuffed the last piece of warm flesh in my mouth and chewed it as I slowly stood up, blood smeared my face. I had just eaten the woman's smile. The old, tough skinned man had dropped the sack he was carrying and stood stuck in place quivering like a frightened child.
"Wha... wha... wha..." He stammered. I didn't answer him. I just started walking towards him with the dagger in hand wearing pieces of the old woman's smile. His body was shaking like there was an earth quake in his belly by the time I walked up to him. I put my nose against his and we were eye to eye and I just stared in to his mind. I smelled urine all of a sudden but I didn't take my eyes off his. I was big for my age, but this was not a big man. Keeping eye contact I brought the knife around his body to his back and plunged it in to the base of his spine. He immediately dropped to the ground screaming. His legs were now useless as he tried to drag himself away from me, breaking off two fingernails in the process. I walked over the three feet he had crawled and put a knee in to his back between his shoulder blades. The man was crying hysterically for the old woman.
"Angie, oh my sweet God not my precious Angie, I'm sorry lord please forgive us and our sins. Oh my sweet lord..." He continued on. Something in my brain stirred during his praying and I lost focus on the task at hand. With my knee still in the man's back I leaned my head back and screamed at the top of my lungs. The fog in my brain was separating and the truth was becoming uncovered when a loud pop sounded in my head and I raised the knife above my head and sunk it in to the gas station attendant's wrist. I pushed it to the left and then to the right and raised the blade. The man's right hand was severed. I left his left hand attached for his use. The attendant had passed out from the pain. I vaguely remembered stories my late pa had told me of the war when they would use fire to cauterize wounds they had received in battle. He told me it had saved many soldiers. I got up and walked behind the counter and turned on the wood stove. I put a metal pot lid on top of the flames and let it sit for a time. Using a hand towel I picked the pot lid off of the stove and walked back over to the man in grey overalls spread out bleeding on the floor. I knelt down and pressed the scalding metal pot lid to where the man's right hand used to be. His eyes snapped open and an inhuman scream rose from his throat. I did the same thing to his left arm. The man passed out again. I stood back up and thought about what to do next. I looked around the diner and remembered I had seen a small shotgun behind the counter. I went and got it and put another pot lid on the stove. When it heated up I went back to the unconscious body. I unsnapped his overalls and pulled them down. The pungent smell of sweat and urine stung my nose but I continued on. I took up the ruby hilted dagger and put the tip between his legs, under his testicles and his shriveled manhood. One flick of my wrist and blood sprayed across my face. I pulled his manliness from his body, feeling the stray tendrils of skin that the blade had failed to cut come loose. Blood flowed freely until I cauterized the gaping hole in the middle of his pelvis and stared at my handiwork. I grabbed the man's severed hand and put it on the right side of his head and put his manhood in the palm. In his left hand, the one that was still attached, I put the shotgun. I saw his back weakly rise and fall and knew he was still alive. I would let him choose. I went back behind the counter to the kitchen and grabbed food and supplies. I saw then a vile with a label reading "Rat Poison" next to a pitcher of water. I glanced to the booth I was sitting at and saw an untouched glass of water next to the plate of food the waitress had brought me. I chuckled too myself and continued gathering supplies. I saw a sink and a mirror a little further in the back and thought it was best if I cleaned myself up. There was a short sleeved, blue collared shirt hanging next to the sink that I changed in to. It was a little snug but it wasn’t covered in blood like the one I had been wearing. There was about a half an hour left until the sun rose when I got back in to the Chevy. I put the dagger on the seat next to me, started the car and took off down the road. Shortly after, a shotgun blast reverberated through the night.