Evil Watching

By Clifton Martin

EVIL WATCHING
A Synopsis

There is a creature known throughout time as Asnodius - The One Watching, because of his ability to see through the eyes of his many followers and watch over his domain for his time to rule and he has sleeping in Elkton Maryland, awakening only long enough to feed while he waits for a mortal with a heart and soul evil enough to rival its own and now thanks to the return of Joe Santos, the most evil mass murderer in Maryland’s history it is finally time for his awakening.

Now that he has awakened he begins preparations’ for the black mass as he watches Joe Santos and his followers’ rape, murder, and mutilate a path through the town, including Santos trapping most of the police force inside their prescient and burning it to the ground.

There are those that however that would stand against them. One is Cardinal Volenti, who for decades has been posing as Jigs the handyman while searching for the creature alongside his old friend Lightfeather, a demon hunter from another realm who possesses a mystical talisman like his own and could pass for just about anyone. Together with Jack Newman and Barbara Harris, a very large streetwise cop and a tough and spunky cops’ daughter they fight their way through an endless supply of demon worshippers while searching for Santos and the creature. Yet, through all the death and destruction they encounter, they manage to deliver a baby from his dying mother leaving them to believe it to be a sign of hope.

The next day the streets fill with coffins as the necrophilia begins and Santos notices the High Priest molesting a dead child and something inside him snaps. The voices of his dead brothers’ and the other children that had been cause pain because of him begin to scream within his mind for vengeance causing his true soul to emerge and it is that of a prophecy known as The Incordius, the only one, according to the ancient writings, that is capable of destroying the evil one known as Asnodius.

After Santos kills the High Priest he finds Jigs and joins him and his comrades and together they find the creatures' underground temple. Although they manage to destroy the place of worship and trap the creatures’ followers forever inside the temple, Asnodius escapes. So they follow the creature to Santos' fathers’ old house and as they battle the creature Jigs dies, Lightfeather disappears and Jack and Barbara become seriously injured. Santos picks up the talismans and to save the others he embraces the power of the Talismans and the Incordius within his soul is born. Santos attacks the creature and carries it screaming into the burning house. As he holds the creature within the burning doorway he yells a warning about the baby to the others as he, the house, and the creature disappear in a large flash of light.

Jack kisses Barbara as a snowflake lands on his nose ending the mysterious heat wave and the hold the evil had on Elkton and together they pledge to honor Santos by raising the child they thought he wanted them to protect as their own.

Ten years later the town is paying their last respect to Commissioner Jack Newman and his wife Barbara as two men from a distance weep. The preacher speaks of the unknown assailant that had broken into their home and used the Commissioners own weapon to gun them down, but the two men in the distance know better. The large man with the burnt skin loads a rifle and the little man who could pass for almost anyone watches through the binoculars as they lower the caskets into the ground and everyone weeps.
Everyone but the couples adopted son.
The child lowers his head to hide a smile as the little man with the binoculars whispers but one word. “Chimera.”
And as the big man with the burnt skin wipes away the tears, he raises his rifle.
And as he asks forgiveness from all the children who are no more, he aims.
And as the voices of all the tormented children cry back to him.
He F

• Language: English
• Publisher: Clifton Martin
• Release date: Nov 14, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310458910

Clifton Martin

I was raised in Perryville, Md. until I went in the Army and after my honorable discharge I resided in Laurel Maryland where I went to Prince Georges and Montgomery County Community College for awhile where I majored in Art and minored in art history. I needed another credit so I took the only thing available which was a Journalists class. I was married and worked two jobs and didn't really have time for research so I made up stories, but my imagination always went wild and I was finally caught. I was told to write two stories, one young adult fiction and one young readers fiction and the class would grade them. If seventy percent of the class graded above a C - I could continue in his class the way I had been. The average grade was a B. At the end of the semester my professor bought two of my stories. A Soldiers Thoughts and The Talking Gilliwok.Evil Watching is my first novel, I have also written a young adult short story entitled A New Beginning, a ABC picture book for young readers entitled David and Miya's A to Zoo room and a count to ten picture book entitled Ten Little Rabbits. I am currently working on my second novel entitled Newstuff, a short story entitled A Org named Paul, and an outline for another novel entitled Marshland.I currently live in Elkton Maryland with my lovely wife Linda and together we have six of the greatest children one could hope for and ten grandchildren.

Book preview

Prologue

The familiar odor recognized by most inmates and guards gently floated up towards the cells ceiling like the fog lifting off a still lake on a crisp fall day. Joe laid his head back on his un-comfortable prison pillow, took another toke and held the smoke in his lungs for a few seconds before expelling it into the air letting it find its way to mix with second hand aroma replacing the cells stale air. He heard a sound and looked down to see one of the prisons other occupants scurrying across the floor and quickly snatched the rat up and looked at it while in tried to sink its teeth into his hand. He smiled and threw it, causing it to spatter against the concrete block wall, leaving a small red stain. He took another hit and watched as some smoke began to roll out of the top of the cell door making its way into the general population but he didn’t care, nor did the guards. Hell some of the best pot he got came from the guards. Smoking even cigarettes within the prison walls was against the law but nobody cared, besides, who would dare to tell him no.

The bad thing about getting high on pot in prison was getting the munchies and getting snacks in prison was actually harder to get than drugs or cell phones. He glanced at the drab walls of his cell and took another toke. He had finally allowed his cell mate Brian Crabbe to tape a few personal pictures on the walls and was glad he did. Brian was a con artist by trade he was suspected of romancing more than fifty married women out of their husbands’ fortunes as well as a few widows and even after being convicted of four counts of fraud he still had beautiful women writing him and sending him money for Joes protection, and the pictures they sent him was pleasant to look at to say the lease.

He heard the sound of shallow breathing near his cell door and opened his eyes to see a newbie standing there looking uncomfortably nervous. Then again the boy had every right to be.

Joe had learned to tune in his senses to his surroundings since being in lockup, a skill that had saved his bacon more than once. He didn’t know if the young meat standing in his cell door was just too afraid to speak up or if he was just stupid enough to enter his space without permission to try and get a contact high. He sat up in his bunk and cocked his head to look at the boy who looked as if he was about to piss in his pants.

He was maybe nineteen or twenty with a little lost boy baby face. Joe decided the kid wouldn’t last too much longer in here. You want something boy? Joe asked, taking another hit of the joint he received as payment to make a Muslim extremist leave an old Jewish man alone. Of course that protection would end when the payments stopped. I asked you a question boy. He repeated rising off the cot.

The young inmate looked up at the largest man he had ever seen in his life and though he was too afraid to speak he knew if he didn’t answer the man soon there was a good chance this giant would make it so he could never interrupt him again. My name is Tommy McGinnis. He finally said, extending his hand and pausing as if the large scary man would exchange formalities. Anyways. He continued, lowering his hand when he realized that the man he had come to for help didn’t care one way or another who he was. I was wondering if you could help me sir. Again he waited for a response that never came. My cell mate is trying to rape me and I heard you could help.

Joe put the fire on his joint out using his fingertips. He couldn’t see giving this young blood a free contact high. Who the hell told you that?

The guard I went to for help. The boy answered nervously. I think his name was Morton.

What’s in it for me? Joe asked walking up to the little man. You paying with drugs or money?

No sir. Tommy answered nervously. I don’t have any drugs and my mom hasn’t been able to get me any money yet.

Then get the hell out of my cell while you still can dumbass. Joe snarled.

I-I do have information you may be interested in sir Tommy said quietly. All I want for it is protection from the other inmates.

Being a prison snitch could get you killed quickly in the joint, yet certain inmates relied on them constantly, maybe even more than cops did. Joe knew he could make the boy talk but that could end any future information exchange. Okay boy here’s the deal. If the info is worth it I will make it so nobody ever bothers you again. Hell, I will even make sure your cell mate helps protect you. Joe put his hand on the boys shoulder and squeezed, almost bringing tears to the boys’ eyes. But if I don’t like the information then well, let’s just say your cell mate will be the least of your problems. You still want to make a deal?

Tommy hesitated a moment, realized that he really had no choice than quietly answered yes so Joe listened quietly as Tommy told him about a conversation he overheard an inmate called Mister Rappollia, a convicted mob boss who still ran his mob from behind the prison walls was having with two large guys that had been processed in the same time he was. The boy said he heard on the bus that they had been enforcers for the Rappollia family. Joe had him describe the men but didn’t recognize the description so he had the boy continue. The boy told him Rappollia said he was tired of Joe not giving him the respect he was due and acting like he was the rooster in the hen house. The boy said the two large men and a few others were supposed to pay Joe a visit next time he was in the shower and give him a severe beat down, then show him that he was just another bitch to be used at their discretion.

Joe thought for a moment, being informed that two or more guys may try and hurt him or take him out wasn’t that worrisome or that unusual, but for Rappollia to think he could turn him into a bitch pissed him off to no end. He really didn’t care about the groups other inmates belonged too in here, mob, muslim, white supremacist, gangs, he couldn’t care less about any of them, he cared only about himself and the day he may get out of here to enact his revenge on the town that had put him here, but it looked like he was going to have to teach Rappollia and his people a lesson they would not soon forget and make sure they knew he was not to be fucked with. Even though Rappollia was the most connected man in here and could get him the best drugs or most money for doing jobs for him he had to be taught a lesson. He will just have to make sure whoever takes over for him understands that it wasn’t wise to screw with him. He looked down at the young newbie and smiled. Okay boy who’s your cell mate and where can I find him?

*****

Joe watched as the boy walked down to the bottom of the cell block than back up to his cell followed a few minutes later by a large heavyset biker type that he rightly assumed to be the boys’ cell mate, He waited about thirty seconds after the man followed the boy in before he walked into the cell. It hadn’t taken the biker long because he walked in to find the boy already struggling with the biker. The biker was a rough looking cubby guy with a long scruffy beard and a few of his front teeth missing. Leave the boy alone asshole. Joe said walking into the cell.

Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to? The man known as Weasel said tossing the boy to the cot and turning around. Then seeing who it was quietly uttered one word before receiving the worse beating he had ever received in his life. Santos.

*****

II

Tommy McGinnis sat on his cot smiling as Joe Santos walked out of his cell to have a word with the mobster most people in and out of prison feared, however Joe Santos was not most people and Rappollia was about to learn a very important lesson.

He walked down the steel stairway of the cellblocks second level looking at the different groups congregating on the first floor until he saw who he was looking for, Big Dog Gordon, head of the Creeds motorcycle gang. For a split second Big Dogs people stood tall as he walked towards them, as if they could actually stop him, but as he kept walking they parted and he walked through them without missing a stride until he came to a man only a few inches shorter than himself.

What can the Creeds do for the almighty Joe Santos? Big Dog said with attitude standing as tall as he could looking up at Santos. Santos caught the attitude but since he had just whipped one of his gang within an inch of his life decided to let it ride.

Got something to tell you and I want some info. Santos replied with a grin.

Big Dog got a suspicious look on his face but saw that his boys were already backing further away instead of surrounding someone that threatened him. What kinda info? He asked, knowing that he would have to give Santos what he wanted weather he wanted to or not, but he had to act the part for his people.

Santos knew Big Dog was trying to show his men he could stand up to him. Usually he would have hurt him a little for that but decided to let it ride, mainly because he didn’t want to attract the guards just yet. No biggie Big Dog. Santos said smiling and putting his hand on Big Dogs shoulder. "All I want is for someone to point out Rappollias new enforcers.

Oh hell. Big Dog replied laughing. That ain’t no problem. He walked around Santos moving a few of his men out of his way until he and Santos was facing the center of the block. See Rappollia standing over there? Big Dog told Santos nodding his head in Rappollias direction.

Yeah I see him. Santos replied.

Okay, see those two very large men standing a few feet to the left of him?

Santos saw them alright they were about Big Dogs size but without the big gut that Big Dog carried around. Yeah I see them.

That’s the Torledo brothers. Big Dog said turning back around. He wouldn’t admit it but he didn’t want any kind of trouble with the Rappollia family, especially with his new enforcers, but if push came to pull he would rather his boys face them than Joe Santos. The one on the right was Anthony Torledo. He has sniper training from the Army. He’s the guy Rappollia calls if he needs someone taken out that is hard to get to, if he just wants to pop someone then either brother would do. Big Dog said leaning against his cell. But if he wants to get information out of someone then he calls Anthony’s brother Vinnie. He’s a sadistic psychopath, rumor has it he actually peeled the skin off someone’s entire body while they were still alive.

Pretty cool. Santos thought, but cool or not they had to be taught a lesson. One more thing Big Dog. Santos said looking back at the Torledo brothers than turning his attention back to Big Dog. I already had a word with your boy Weasel. He hesitated to let it set in. Tommy McGinnis, Weasel’s cellmate? He is under my protection and is to come to no harm by anyone while he is here. Understood?

Big Dog, under any other circumstance would have laughed at someone threatening not only him but every Creed in the joint. But this was Joe Santos so he humbly knotted yes.

*****

Santos was halfway across the cellblock heading towards Rappollia and his new enforcers when he noticed not only the Torledo brothers heading to cut him off but also five guards. What the fuck? He said to himself stopping in the center of the cellblock and looking at the guards.

The Torledo brothers headed back to their corner as the guards continued walking towards him. He looked around and saw everyone on D block watching to see what was going to happen next and smiled. Like Rappollia he owned the guards but unlike Rappollia he did not have to pay or bribe. He just let promised not to kill them.

Mister Santos. Lieutenant. Thomas said as he neared Joe. "The warden would like the pleasure of you company sir.

I have some business to take care of first. Santos replied. Tell him I will be there shortly.

Lieutenant. Thomas stopped about eight feet in front of Santos. He had no intention of getting too close to him, as a guard he was all too familiar with Santos’ temper. I think you will want to talk to the warden before you do anything rash Mister Santos.

Sorry Thomas but I have to teach someone a lesson. Santos said bluntly. Tell him I will be there when I get there.

Lieutenant. Thomas sighed. He didn’t want anything to ruin what was to be not only going to be good news to Santos but to them as well. Look Mister Santos. He said nervously. The warden wanted to tell you this personally but I don’t want you to do something that could mess it up.

Santos shortened the distance between the two of them until he was towering over Lieutenant. Thomas and his backup guards backed up a little more. Spit it out Thomas. Santos told him.

Lieutenant. Thomas backed up, his heart was beating against his chest feeling as if he would cough it out at any moment and cleared his throat. Mister Santos I am uh proud to tell you that you have been pardoned and are too be released immediately.

You trying to fuck with me?

No sir.

Santos smiled wider than he had in years. He had no idea what had happened but worse was he had no idea what he should do next. The thing to do would be to say the hell with the Torledo brothers and Rappollia and run to the warden as fast as he could. But then he realized that the warden and the guards wanted to get rid of him as much as most of the inmates so he figured he could take care of business a little better than he had planned and they would still let him out. Tell him I will be there shortly. He told Lieutenant. Thomas again.

We were told to escort you there. Lieutenant. Thomas replied.

Santos smiled. Okay Thomas. Santos said starting to walk towards the Torledo brothers again. But if the pardon is real and you fuck it up for me I will kill you sooner or later.

Lieutenant. Thomas looked at him nervously and said nothing.

Lieutenant. Thomas didn’t answer or interrupt him so he continued. The way I see it Thomas you and the warden want me out as bad as I want out so it seems to me you have two choices. Either you wait outside the cellblock for me or you forget what you’re about to see. It’s up to you.

Lieutenant. Thomas let out a long sigh. This was not what he had envisioned when he had decided he wanted to be a prison guard. The worst part was he knew he had a chance to stand his ground but had realized it would be a death sentence and backed down, but at least he was proud to say he had never taken a bribe. We will wait for you outside the cellblock. When you are finished grab whatever you want to take with you and meet us at the guards’ station.

Santos nodded and watched as they walked out of the cellblock then turned his attention back on the brothers who were now making their way towards him. He looked around at everyone staring at them as the cellblock started filling up. He watched the gawkers forming and looked back at the Torledo brothers who were doing their tough jersey boy walk and smiled thinking it was going to be too bad he wasn’t going to be able to see their humiliated looks tomorrow. He was just going to give the brothers a bad beating before he killed their boss but now he figured he may as well leave with a sense of style and kill them all.

The brothers stopped about five feet from him. So you’re the notorious Joe Santos? Vinnie Torledo snarled with his jersey boy accent.

Santos said nothing.

You’re about to receive some serious pain dude. His brother added. Then we are going to punk you out like the bitch you are.

Santos smiled.

The Return of Joe Santos

The old street sign for Landings Lane lay crumbled and mangled in the middle of the dirty cracked sidewalk like that of an old broken limb. Joe Santos kicked it out of his path, discarding it as he had learned to do with most things in his life and smiled. It was good to be back in the old neighborhood again.

He continued walking down the cracked and broken sidewalk, glancing longingly at the dirty unkempt townhouses and worn out apartment buildings that lined the streets like the decaying teeth of an old wino, missing the years gone by when he had controlled these very streets. Yes, the old neighborhood had not changed a bit these last fifteen years the people of Elkton had locked him away. That meant that there might still be some of his old gang around. If so and if he were able to find them, well, he might be able to score some drugs. It sure would be nice to have a snort of coke right about now he thought, sniffing, and rubbing his nose.

It had been easy for him to score what he wanted while he was living as a guest of the New York Prison Authority. He had been able to get whatever he wanted by offering the newbie punks protection from the more hardcore residents that threatened the existence of all the weaker inmates. If they were not willing to pay his fees then he simply took what he wanted anyways and left them to their own resources, eventually, if they lived, they were more willing to pay his fees. If he wanted any of the good stuff however, he had to waste someone for one of the prisons more famous residents, which never really seemed often enough. He had found prison a very boring place, drugs and hurting others helped him occupy his time. Still, if there was one thing Joe Santo's enjoyed, it was watching the way people squirmed and pleaded when they knew they were about to die.

*****

It had been just a little over a week since he had left the hospitality of the state of New York, on the ninth of October at eleven-forty five am, the day the papers reported that mob boss Artie Rappollia and the Torledo brothers were murdered by unknown attackers and the temperature had been an unusual bone chilling thirty-two degrees. It had taken him that long to catch rides heading towards Maryland. He wasn't the most trusted looking guy you saw so the few rides that did pick him up was after the sun had sit and when he got into their car and they got a good look at him they usually wished they hadn't, but he left them alone. He didn’t want the police looking for him until he had at least reached Elkton and had time to punish those that needed punishing.

The closer he seemed to get to Maryland the colder it seemed to have gotten with each passing day. The weather he heard on the radio of the different cars he had caught rides with seemed to be predicting that it might be the worse winter in years and for what he had in mind, he did not need to be freezing in his cheap prison goodbye suit so when he saw a sign informing him that he had just entered the city limits of New Castle, Delaware he knew he was close to Elkton, so he decided it was time to pick up a little cash and some warmer clothes for his arrival home.

II

His latest ride had nervously dropped him off at the intersection of Route 13 and Memorial Drive. It wasn’t the friendliest looking neighborhood in New Castle, but he could care less about that as he pulled up the collar of the thin cheap suit jacket the prison had so thoughtfully given him to help keep some of the bone chilling wind off his neck. What he did care about was the sign he noticed informing him of a bus station two blocks away, and directly behind the bus stop sign was a busy liquor store by the name of Kims Discount Liquors and Check Cashing. He decided it had to be an omen, for he desperately needed to get his hands on some cash and a drink sure as hell would not hurt to get some of the chill off his bones and here right in front of his very eyes was a larger than life sign inviting him to come in and help himself to both.

The little strip mall was almost void of cars, it seemed that almost all the stores but the liquor store and a few more had their windows taped up and out of business signs posted on them, which may have been bad for the poor business owners but good for what he had to do. After walking past the Dollar General store that seemed to be void of any customers and a cashier that was almost asleep at the counter he walked past the remaining empty stores and staked out the area until he found a remote corner of the storefront where he could skulk within the shadows, shielded from the wind while watching the clock through the liquor stores dingy windows.

He stood motionless, the unforgiving cold air made its way past the cheap, drab, beige suit jacket and bit deeper into his bones, yet he refused to surrender to it and shiver. Finally after hours of motionless waiting it was ten until closing time and time to enter the store.

*****

Santos casually walked through the stores isles letting the warmth of the heated furnace massage his numb muscles and grabbed a pint of Jack Daniels off the shelf; the numbness of his frozen hands almost causing him to drop it to the floor. Luckily, his reflexes were still quick enough and his fingers still nimble enough to bypass the cold numbness set in by Jack Frost and grab the bottle before it hit the floor and anyone noticed.

He casually made his way between the isles, and when he saw the clerk bend down to get something from the counters showcase he slipped unnoticed through some curtains into a storage room.

*****

Santos casually watched patiently through the narrow slit in the backrooms curtain until the last of the customers did their business, letting the bourbon take away the last of the bitter chill that was still clinking to his bones. He glanced around at all the different cases of alcohol and smiled at the thought that he could have waited until he got in here to have gotten his bourbon. He grinned evilly when he saw the clerk bid goodnight to the last of the customers, close the front door, locked the three deadbolts, then stepped away from the door and close all the window blinds. Something he would later regret.

He stepped out of the backroom and strolled towards the front counter, grabbing a bottle of some kind of wine off the shelf. He had no idea what kind he had picked up, nor did he care, for whatever kind it was it would serve his needs.

He approached the counter and pulled out his wallet while trying his best to look like a drunken customer who had not realized it was closing time. The clerk walked back behind the counter looking up at him questionably from over the top of his horned-rim glasses, let out a sigh, then said something in a language Santos could only guess to be Chinese and motioned to him to hurry up.

Is there anything else? The small, pudgy, middle aged oriental man in the knitted sweater asked flatly in broken English that was hard to understand, giving Santos his best all you people steal from me look from over the top of his cheap K- Mart glasses.

No thank you, I have what I need. Santos answered still smiling, secretly amazed at how well he had slurred his speech.

The owner gave him a small Humph sound as he looked at the cheap bottle of wine he carried for the winos and homeless panhandlers. It was not much of a sale and he had some Kung Pao dinner waiting, but even cheap hobo wine added up in the end.

He turned towards the cash register to ring up the drunken Americans sale, but his fingers never had a chance to touch the keys. The cheap bottle of white wine that Santos had set on the counter was now running down his face and starting to look more and more like a fine red dinner wine as it mixed with the flow of his dark red blood.

Before the small, pudgy, oriental man with the thick horned-rimmed K-Mart glasses could fall to the floor Santos was over the counter, he had one of the ten dollar penknife's the man stupidly had on the counter to sell firmly in his hand as he grabbed the man by the neck of his blood streaked shirt to keep him on his feet.

He saw the tears starting to mix with the blood-laced wine on the man's face and smiled. I want all the money you have in the store little man. He sneered, putting his large massive face within inches of the smaller man's face. And don't try to cheat me buddy boy, I've been watching this place for weeks, and know what kind of business you do here. He lied, tearing open the man's shirt and cutting a line about an eighth of an inch deep from the man's chest to his belly button. And every time I think you are trying to cheat me, I'm gonna make this line just a little bit deeper, very slowly, until your insides are on your outside. But little man, if you do as I say, when I say it, I might just let you live. He growled at the dazed oriental man, releasing his hold on him and letting him drop to the floor just to grab him by his throat and lift him to his feet again. He smiled; he could see the man was going to be very cooperative.

He walked over to the light switches by the entrance door and turned off all the lights but one, constantly keeping an eye on his victim and glancing out the blinds. After he was sure it was all clear, he casually walked back to the store's owner, grabbed him by the hair with his huge hand and threw him against the cash register, the little man's face ringing the keys in the process.

*****

The owners fingers trembled as he opened the register and nervously removed all the money from the tray, then lifted the tray and removed some more and while Santos was busy stuffing the cash into his pockets the man stepped over to a large red machine that looked like some kind of old computer and started pushing some more buttons.

Santos was about to run his penknife into the man's side, thinking he was triggering some sort of alarm when a drawer popped open and the man started removing even more money from it.

A lot more.

Apparently they had started something called a multi-state lottery and it must have been doing very well at Kim's because thanks to this lottery he now had over twenty three hundred dollars on him. Not bad for one nights work he thought.

Usually he would have killed the store clerk just for the hell of it. Promising to let the man live did not really mean anything to Santos. He was not known for his promises, but he was so pleased with all the money he had just gotten he decided to give the man a fighting chance.

Sorry buddy, but I can't have you talking to the cops or picking me from a mug book now can I? He told the man throwing him back to the floor and knelling beside him. But look at the bright side little buddy, I'm gonna keep my promise and let you live. He smiled and licked the man's blood off the knife; he had work to do and he may as well start with a clean knife. Now promise not to scream okay little buddy? He whispered in the man's ear, grabbing the man's tongue and pulling it out of his mouth. Now say ahhh.

He gave the little oriental man with the cheap horn-rimmed K-Mart glasses a happy, little boy smile as he cut the tongue out of the man's mouth and as the man slipped into unconsciousness, he used the knife to remove the man's eyes from their sockets, humming a tune he could not remember the words too.

He smiled while calmly wiping the blood off the knife with the man's shirt. Sorry little buddy, but like I said I can't have you talking to the cops or picking me out of a mug book now can I? However, look at the bright side. I kept my promise and didn't kill you now did I? He patted the little oriental man with the horn-rimmed glasses on the top of his head like a small child. Of course if you die before someone finds you, well, that's not my fault now is it. He started laughing hysterically, something he had not done in a long, long, time.

*****

Santos carefully locked the doors behind him as he left with the keys he had taken from the clerk's pockets. He walked over and tossed the man's eyes and tongue down a storm drain and walked to the parking lot.

There were two cars left in the parking lot, a dull ugly white colored 1972 Ford Escort and a red 1987 Chevy Camaro Z 28 with wide white stripes running up the hood and down the trunk. He assumed the clerk's keys fit one of these cars, probably the beat up Ford Escort and as tempting as it was he decided to pass them by. He had never really learned to drive and decided that tonight was probably not the best time to try and learn.

He started walking towards the bus station that the sign had pointed to earlier. He finally gave in and shivered, pulling his jacked collar up again, once he got to the station he could buy himself a warm jacket and a bus ticket for the final twenty miles and be on his way home. He took off the bloody gloves he had gotten off the liquor store counter and threw them and the keys down the same storm drain he had tossed the man's body parts down and smiled. Look out Elkton He happily