Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 220(@200wpm)___ 176(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43912 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 220(@200wpm)___ 176(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
And then I look up. Above my head, he is splayed across the distance between two buildings, four arms and two legs pressed against the bricks on either sides. He is looking down at me with a broad, self-satisfied grin, and before I can so much as shout, he winks one red eye and flaps his wings, skittering up onto the roof.
“ASSHOLE!”
I give chase, up the liquor store, through the back, and then up the fire escape. I am not going to let him go. I am not going to let any moth asshole make me look stupid. I’m going to go up there, and I’m going to bring him down.
I burst up onto the roof, panting and with my gun drawn. Just as I figured, he’s on the roof. He can’t leave the roof without flying, and he can’t fly in daylight without exposing himself to more New Yorkers than we can count.
Up close, he looks a lot like his brother, but in an angrier, more murderous kind of way. Red eyes give themselves to a kind of natural intimidation. This is a scary motherfucker. His wings are jet black now. His clothes are simple. Blue jeans and boots. That’s it. He’s naked from the waist up, and his chest looks smooth and I’d say hairy, but it’s probably furry. The hair is dark brown, but I suspect he can change and shift that too. He’s different from Justice. His upper lip is curled back in a perpetual snarl, and I can see that his teeth are both sharp in some places, and flat and chew-ready in others. It suddenly makes sense why the bite patterns were so odd in the victims. It also makes it readily apparent that he ate them raw.
“You shouldn’t have come up here,” he says, seething visibly. His shoulders are rising and falling with deep breaths. It must take some effort to do a plank twenty feet above ground while half a dozen cops are searching for him.
“You shouldn’t have murdered a bunch of people. What did you think was going to happen?”
“Ugh,” he grunts. “I had to eat. What did you want me to do?”
“Get a slice, man. Eat literally anything besides people.”
He starts advancing toward me. “You’ll be my next meal.”
I deploy my taser. Forty-two thousand volts hit him, and he goes down like a fucking sack of twitching shit, his wings moving in what looks to me like uncomfortable and unnatural ways.
Serves him fucking right.
I came here prepared. I have two sets of handcuffs, and I get them on both sets of wrists, cuffing him in the front. I’d usually go around the back, but the wings are in the way. I start reading him his rights before he stops twitching.
“You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law.”
“Let me go. You can’t take me into your station.”
“Why not?”
“I’m not human.”
“You’re human enough to speak English.”
“I’ll kill everybody I come into contact with. I’ll turn your precious station into a bloodbath. And it will be your fault.”
“Oh god.” I crouch down next to him. “Do you think you’re the first violent murderer I’ve encountered? You think your threats are original? Interesting? I don’t give a fuck if you’re a moth. You’re going to jail.”
His mouth opens, and I see inside his maw. Just behind his lips, there is a second set of surfaces pulsing hungrily, serrated cartilage and flesh. These must be the mouthparts Ilona was talking about. They’re gross, and they’re even more evidence, if I needed it, that I have the right flying man-monster in custody.
I call for backup. Again. This time, I am triumphant. I have overcome the monster. It’s all going to be okay.
“I’ve got him. I need a van and at least two units.”
There’s a brief pause from the dispatcher, who is far too professional to mention that I just called a few minutes ago and it led to nothing.
“Units on the way. Van en route.”
“You hear that, murder buddy? In a few minutes you’ll be nice and cozy in your very own cell, answering for the many crimes you’ve committed.”
“I can smell Justice’s seed on you,” Rage growls. “He always had a taste for stupid women. I think it makes him feel better about his own limited intellect.”
I let him talk shit. This time I’ve got him. This time there’s no way he’s getting away. Two sets of cuffs mean he’s not going fucking anywhere. I stand next to him, making sure he stays in one piece until backup arrives.
“What brings you all out here anyway? Can’t say we’ve seen your kind before.”
“Oh, you’ve seen our kind before,” Rage laughs. “You call them unsolved mysteries or urban legends. I am far from the first to give into the instinct to feed on you normies.”