After the incident my worst fears came to life as someone else had to take care of me or I would be put up for adoption. I had no idea on whether I even had other family so this worried me. Then my worst night mare came to life.

"I will take care of you for your sister's absence. It's the least I could do," Roy had said to me a few weeks after my sister's funeral on New Years's day. What a way to start a new year.

I had no say in this since I had no other choice. I would not be able to survive in a orphanage with all those disease ridden children and sappy adults around, so I agreed to his terms.

It has been about three weeks since I have started living with him. The "back room" is a lot larger than I imagined in the first place. There is a large living area that connects to the door leading to the front of the store. Old furniture live in that weird living room as well as a small television set. Some times at night I swear I can hear it on with static sounds and hallow voices but I know that Roy has already gone to bed, hours before then. A couple of bookcases lie in the corner of the room. Odd titles line old spines of the books. Some of the names are even in a different language.

A small hallway connects to the living room. My room is located on the right side.

"This is the antique room," He had said. "I keep old family heirlooms in here along with some personal items I have collected. If you break anything I will kick you out in an instant."

Roy was not joking on that last part. Cold air laced around each word as he breathed them out. I am always carful for that reason. He also gave my a weird bed he had called a futon. I asked him why the hell the bed was on the floor like that, but he just chuckled, and said it was something from his country.

The bathroom is on the left side of the hallway also. It has a sickening smell of cheep soap along with horrid pink wallpaper. His only explanation was that he never redecorated from the last people that lived there. What a crappy good for nothing explanation.

I never saw his room. Roy said it was off limits to squirts like me, and also said that he would kick me to the curb if I so much as touched the door knob. What a smug bastard.

After I moved in with him, I often found myself wandering town... anything to get away from that bastard in that house. I wander streets and allies while everyone goes about their normal lives... it sickens me to see so many people not even notice the fact that there are other people out there that are being murdered. I sometimes stop at a small café that's near the spot where I found my sister. I ponder what would have happened if I could have saved her. I ponder if Roy could have killed her and dumped her lifeless corpse there, if I was living with a murderer or if I could have given my life instead.

I usually never return home at night for fear that I to will be killed and drained of my blood. I don't want to die until my sister's killer is put to justice. That smug bastard needs to die and burn in the depths of hell where he rose from.

Roy never asks me why I never come home at night. He doesn't care a he goes about his normal store hours like everyone else. Help Wanted poster taped to the glass widow for all to see. He put that sign up after they found her corpse. Disgraceful in my opinion, but then why should I bother with a murderer?

&&&&&&&

Screaming filled the cold air with shrills.

I spun around from my spot in the ally I have walked down so many time before. It was around midnight, and no one usually left past ten to venture out into the dark because of the murders. I ran towards te sound as swiftly as possible. Dark shadows tangling up streets to make them look twisted and confused. The steady tapping of my shoes became in sync with my ever rising heart beat as I twisted through the streets.

Another scream cascaded through the streets, but this time louder than before. I was closer than ever. I took a sharp turn through an ally way, but soon stopped.

The next scream that erupted from the brunet's thought was gurgled and drowned out as I stared at the creature before me. About seven feet tall with large, slimy wings, stood some sort of animal. It made gurgling sounds as it dropped the corpse of the woman, and stepped closer to me. Disfigured blackish skin covered its deformed body. Its face looked like a human's, but was indented in the forehead with rotting flesh oozing out its righteye socket. Its deformed body looked mushed, and broken as bones poked out and worms feasted on its skin and the organs that were spilling out its side. The wing snapped back and forth from its sticky spot on its back as it gurgled louder.

I stepped back as it stepped closer, eternal hunger reflected on it's one bulging eye. I screamed as loudly as possible as it leaped forward at me with sharp, bloody fingers.

Then it fell backwards.

Steam rose from it's flesh wound as though it had been sliced by fire. It howled it pain as its demented voice rose.

"Help me!" It screeched as its bloody limbs rose, and fell in a small spasm.

I stared dumbstruck at the sight before my, and then realized what just happened as I felt a hand place itself on my shoulder.

"Need some help, squirt?"

Smug bastard.

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