R.A. Miller – THE HOUSE CALL

Weezer blared through the headphones in Godam’s ears.  The demon found herself bopping her head to the music.  The blond hair of the human she inhabited bounced with each toss of her head and she had to keep pushing it out of her face.  She had found the iPod in the glove box of the car she now sat in.  The car belonged to a disappointing human named Peter Ludvig.  He had tasted terrible but his car was nice.

She decided that she liked the Weezer song so much that she put it on a loop.  Now it played endlessly in her ears as she sat in the dirty old Chevy, waiting for her next meal to come home.

She had parked the car in the street three houses down from where her target, Walter Hamill, was supposed to be living.  She had been sitting here for three days now with no sign of Hamill.  With the drive down to Miami she had been sitting in this car now for almost five days.  Her demon eyes had taken in everything going on around her.  Day or night she was watching.  No one had come or gone from the house since she arrived.  She was becoming impatient.

Now it was approaching midnight on her third day here and there was no sign of her target.  Three days of waiting.  Three days without food.  She needed to eat and at this point any human would do.  She glanced up at the rearview mirror and saw an old woman walking a small dog.

Godam pulled the handle to open her door when she saw him.  Three houses down from her current location a short but plump man was walking up the driveway.  He was nervous, just like Peter had been before she ate him.  The fat man was disheveled and in serious need of a brush.  She watched him fumble for his key and once it was inside the lock, she got out of the car and walked towards the house.  She gave a momentary glance behind her and saw the old woman and her dog turn the corner out of sight.

She quickened her pace towards the fat man.  She had long abandoned her host’s high heels, opting to go barefoot.  She made no noise as she walked, allowing her to surprise her prey.  Walter Hamill jumped at the sound of her voice only inches from his back.

“Walltterr Hammilll.”

“What,” Walter spun around to see Godam staring at him.  He took a step back and nearly fell over himself into the open doorway, “How…how can I help you?”

“Are you Walter Hamill?”  Godam could smell the fear wafting off of him in waves.  It made her salivate.

“Who wants to know?”  Walter tried to straighten up and look tougher than he was.

“Are you…” She was pushing him through the open door now, “…Walter Hamill?”  She had him pressed against the wall opposite the open door.  She reached back with one foot and slammed the door.  The fat man was sniveling and she thought she smelled urine.  “Why do they always piss themselves?”

“I have…I have powerful friends, ya know.  You don’t want to mess with me.”

Godam smacked Walter in the face.  “Shut up.  Are you or are you not Walter Hamill?”

“Fine,” Walter yelled, “I’m Walter Hamill.  Now what do you want?”

“That’s all I need to know.”  She gripped his throat and pushed him up the wall as far as she could reach with her human arms.  She noticed that he had indeed pissed himself.

“I can get you anything you want…” Walter pleaded, “I’m loaded.  I…I can pay you.”

She retrieved a small razor blade from between her breasts and sliced easily into his large belly.  Blood and intestines began to spill from the opening.  She dropped the blade and forced her hand into his belly, grabbing a handful of intestine and yanked them from their home.  Godam shoved them in her mouth, letting out a small moan of satisfaction.  It had been so long since she had eaten.

Walter continued to scream and kick at the demon.  She ignored this knowing soon he would lose too much blood and then die.  They tasted better when the human was alive, however, so she lowered him and laid him on the floor.  His hands went immediately to the hole in his belly as he continued to scream.  She couldn’t understand what he was screaming but she didn’t care.

As the song on her iPod was restarting she picked up the blade she had dropped and began making more cuts on his chest.  She used her free hand to turn up the volume on her song while the hand with the blade cut out his heart.

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R. A Miller has an AA in Fine Art from South Florida State College and is currently studying for a BA in Creative Writing at Full Sail University. Miller’s work has been published in F*cked Up Fairy Tales Volume 1 edited by H.E. Ellis (H.E. Ellis, 2013), under the pen name EmeraldDragun.

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Amour Sombre

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