It was wet outside.
Dreary, the kind of night bad shit usually goes down. I knew this, because I watched horror movies.
Not to mention, the night my parents died, was also a wet, rainy, dreary night. Fog was rolling in heavy from the hills. Bad shit usually rolls in from the hills, this would of course, be no exception.
My brother, told me to stay by the radio, let him know if the storm was clearing, he of course, was going out to storm prove the roof. Only my stupid ass brother would storm proof a house, in the middle of... yes you guessed it, A storm. Give this man a million dollars, he just won the grand prize.
Of course, the fact that we needed to storm proof the house, wasn't evidence the house sucked. This was an amazing house, 6 bedrooms, 2 baths, and a large rumpus room in the basement, that my dad used to go downstairs in with his buddies, drink beer, watch cheaply produced pornos, and cat call at my mom for more beer from the stairs. Of course, that was all over now, so to me, this house is only 2 bedrooms, a kitchen, and one bath. Me and my brothers rooms are adjoining, the bathroom in the middle, in the morning, we like to go in there, and brush our teeth together, he is much older than me of course, so he also shaves, and I am usually downstairs before him. When I get down there, he expects me to pack lunch before we leave, seeing as how he made breakfast first.
He is at this very moment, nailing lengths of metal sheeting to the roof, this is going to be a bad storm, and he figures we can spend a few months with our house looking ugly as hell if it means we make it thru this particular night.... or atleast he should be. I should at this moment, hear the thudding of the hammer, on the metal sheeting, that obnoxious thudding. You know that feeling you get when someone scratches there nails down a chalkboard? That feeling ran up my spine right when I noticed I couldn't hear him.
To be honest, I thought, if he fell, I would hear him, you know, the same way I would hear those metal sheets being banged into place by a hammer. Then it thundered, and I jumped. I screamed a little as well. I ran outside also. Bad move.
It was unfolding itself, just as I ran out there. Or at least, I think it was. At least it's the best way I can describe it. It's arms at first just the right size, began to expand, and not in the normal way either, if arms ever normally expand, there's folded out, like a switch blade from it's sheath, slowly and with a sickening cracking sound, I could even hear over the storm. I prayed to god at that moment, that it was storming. I would not like to hear it ever again with no storm to mask it.
It turned towards me, and I almost shat myself, it's bottom jaw, was extended a few inches from the top. A few more inches than normal. It let loose a weak croaking, that began to increase, in both volume and rhythm. I saw this movie once, with a little girl that came out of the television to kill people, and there was this noise it made sometimes, it reminded me a lot of that, except not in a movie, and this seemed to vibrate thru me, like my bones were being rattled like a xyla-phone.
It stared at me for a few moments, it's eyes the color of powdered sulfur, it's teeth, were impecably white, yet, something in my mind told me they were dark red, and stained in blood. That of my brother, and my own. It wore no clothing, but did not need to, it seemed perfect in it's own way with out them so why force it to wear clothing at all? My mind was running thru thousands of possibilities, run, turn around, run to the house, just remember to close the door behind you Jimmy, remember, that's how the wolf got into the house that ate dad.
My dad got in an accident.
A car crash, he was driving a red van, my mom was in the other car, they were messing around, being silly, my dad was on the phone, telling her how much he loved her, they decided to mess around, play chicken. That was there thing, they do something exciting and dangerous, then come home, lock themselves in there room, and shake the entire house. I don't think god would approve of that.
It's hard to have sex when half of YOUR stomach is in a wolves stomach.
Maybe, if I close my eyes hard enough, I can turn away from it, something is stopping me from just totally turning around, running back into the house. I hear a loud hum, it grows stronger, and resonates thru my head, the glass panes in the windows begin to shake and rumble. But it is still there in my head.
Jimmy, the wolves are coming.
Little pig, Little pig. Let me in.
I look at the thing before me and smile, I turn towards the door, and open it. It followed me in, carrying my brother behind it. One of it's claws stuck thru it's chest, and wrapped back along it's spine, it was using my brothers spine like a handle.
I saw my mother carrying a purse once, the handle was duck taped, it kind of reminded me then and there, that we really couldn't afford the house we lived in, Part of the reason the wolves got in, we just couldn't keep up on it could we? Some day the bank has to come, look you in the eye, and say. Were sorry sir, Were repo-ing the house. That's when they let in the wolves, they do it when your asleep jimmy.
I know it's not your real name Karl, But Jimmy was my first. your just my left overs, my rebound. get used to that, because your brother didn't get it.
The angels are coming Jimmy. Close the door, before I let the wolves in.