

David McGhee

Published by: David McGhee at Smashwords
Free Kittens

By: David McGhee

Copyright © 2011 David McGhee

Cover design copyright © 2011 by David McGhee

Book design and layout copyright © 2011 by David McGhee

Author photo copyright © 2011 Tammy Ealom
This is a work of fiction, and the views expressed herein are the sole responsibility of the author. Likewise, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are represented fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events or locales, is entirely coincidental.

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All rights reserved. Without limiting rights under copyrights reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or any other means) without the prior consent of the author and / or publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either of the authors own imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the various products and brands mentioned in this work of fiction which have been used without permission. The publication use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.Copyright © 2011 David McGhee

Cover design copyright © 2011 by David McGhee

Book design and layout copyright © 2011 by David McGhee

For Tina Dix, James Williams, and Amber Williams. You guys took me in during my darkest hour... Thank you!

"You're my brand of heroin" – Edward Cullen, Twilight: by Stephanie Meyer

Prologue: That was the best sex I've ever had!

On Tuesday, when the Hi Dive is slow, she talks about strippers and the Rabid Ragdolls. The latter was her band, the prior just an odd obsession she's had since age four. Her name was Tara and she had to be the coolest female bartender at the music venue / bar. Standing at a meager 5'2" she was just barely tall enough to reach over the counter of the bar. Not that this bothered anyone, she was such a blast that no one cared that she had trouble reaching across and giving people their drinks. Being a hot bartender with a great demeanor meant that she made very, very good money, despite the efficiency problems.

Malcolm was a little more than drunk and he was dead set on taking Tara home tonight (at the current moment at least). Even though he had no chance in hell with her he still tried his best all the same every time he came around when she was working. Tara thought it was cute such a tall handsome individual would give her attention. She was taken though, but still flattered.

Also, he was also a little too pale for her tastes. She liked her men with a little tan, which Malcolm sorely lacked like a skinny person without food.

"Could I buy you a drink, baby?" Malcolm slurred, leaning against the bar.

Tara smiled and wiped off a martini glass with her dish rag. "I don't drink while at work sweetie."

Malcolm took out a crumpled ten dollar bill from his pocket and pushed it toward her. "Well, this would be a good time to start!"

"I'm good. And you sir, are cut off." She motioned for Malcolm's drink and he begrudgingly let her take it from his right hand.

Malcolm frowned and pouted his small light blueish pink lips. He took back the ten and put it in his wallet, in defeat he went out into the dance crowd to find another fresh victim for tonight.

He spotted a hot couple, a tall red headed guy and a somewhat shorter (but still tall) blue haired girl and decided that they were worth his time. He stumbled his way, slowly but surely through the throngs of sweaty hipsters. He came not even two feet from the two when they noticed his presence. The guy was caught off guard but the girl looked up and smiled.

"Hey there big boy." She said. She was obviously as drunk as Malcolm was, at least she appeared to be and appearances are everything right? She steadied herself next to the elevated stage up front where they stood.

Score! Malcolm thought.

"Hello." Malcolm extended his hand, nearly falling over in the process from both the alcohol and the fact that a very pretty girl was giving him attention. He wasn't sure he was this drunk but it did make rejection a little easier to cope with if he told himself that he wasn't in his right mind. "My name is Malcolm. And you are going to go home with me tonight, right?" He asked no one in particular, he smiled and looked from the girl to the guy and back. The boy put up his hands and backed away, then went back into the crowd, leaving the tall blue haired lady all to Malcolm's lonesome self.

She took his hand. "My name is Sarah." Malcolm shook it a little too enthusiastically but she saw potential in him. He had nice clothes on and what appeared to be a real gold cross necklace around his long thin neck. This one would be easy she thought.

"You want a drink?" He asked, pulling out the crumpled ten dollars.

"No thanks." Sarah held up a half drunken lemon sour martini above her head and laughed. "I think I'm pretty sloshed as it is." She took a sip from it and spilled some on her shirt, leaving a yellow stain on her white Fall Out Boy t-shirt that poked through her black zip up hoodie. She giggled and put the drink back on the stage beside her.

Malcolm ran his long fingers through his short black spiky hair. "Well, how am I to take advantage if you aren't crawling on the floor?" The girl laughed and Malcolm felt confident that he was going to get some tonight.

At six foot three and one hundred and sixty pounds, Malcolm had an easy time attracting attention from potential mates. That and he felt that he was great in bed; at least that was from the testimonials of many a satisfied customer. Self-esteem had to come from somewhere.

The girl was only about four or so inches shorter than he was, which was cool, but he preferred shorter girls and guys. Most tall people do.

They talked about the local music scene and how the dance party they were at was the coolest in the world.

"Sara T's Dancetron is the best show there is that doesn't involve live music." Malcolm said, his elongated arms now holding the small of Sarah's back as they slow danced to the fast, pulsating house music. The mass of bodies around them gyrated violently to the beats and occasionally knocked into the two, who just laughed and shrugged it off as if it were no big deal.

"I think I should get going soon." Sarah said softly into Malcolm's ear. Malcolm felt a pang of sorrow and let go of his potential beau. He looked down toward his converse shoes and let out a long, tired sigh.

Sarah giggled and took his right hand. She stood on her tip toes and spoke into his ear again. "I mean, I need to get going..." she paused "with you!"

Malcolm's head shot up and he grinned, barring his heavenly white smile. Sarah noticed his abnormally large canines.

"You could be a vampire!" She said.

Malcolm cocked his head and became serious, a long worry line formed in the middle of his forehead. "I've been told that I suck particularly well." His frown turned into a smile and they both laughed. He took her hand and led her out of the hip music venue and out onto the sidewalk of Broadway.

"Actually would you mind if I took my car?" She asked.

"Yeah sure, how about we go separately to my place?" He took her hand and kissed it. For the first time that night she became aware of just how cold he felt.

"Um... Ok. Where do you live?"

"Off of Boulder and Platte. I'm in one of those new condos."

She smiled. "Those are expensive. What do you do for a living?"

This time it was Malcolm's turn to give his best smiley face "I am a graphic artist by trade. But professionally, I'm a lady killer." He grabbed a hold of Sarah and hugged her hard. She could smell the strong tinge of alcohol permeating from his every pore. The bitter aromas of ethanol and this odd cold sweat had made her stomach contract and expand with the contents being pushed up her esophagus.

"I bet you are." She said, trying to catch her breath as he held onto her with more force than she was used to. He pulled her closer and could feel a big erection in his pants. It would have been exciting if he weren't so damn cold. Alcohol constricts the blood vessels, she reasoned, it's just his blood circulation slowing down and the frigid January air.

"Let me text you my address." Malcolm got out his Blackberry cell phone and asked her for her contact info. Once he procured the ten digit number he dutifully gave her the directions. "I'll be waiting outside the indoor parking lot for you." He grabbed a hold of her head with both hands and kissed her on the lips. She made a move to slip him her tongue but couldn't get passed his teeth. He let go and happily told her "Not now. Save it for later." With a salute he stumbled down north on Broadway toward his car on sixth. She turned around and headed to the parking lot in the rear of the Hi Dive.

She got into her red Sedan and waited for about fifteen minutes, listening to the new Death Cab for Cutie album on her MP3 player. After some thought she turned the ignition and pulled out of the parking space and onto Broadway, which is a one way street going south. With some deft maneuvering, she got onto Lincoln one block east and headed north toward the city.

When she got there he was standing in the parking garage next to his new white Volkswagen Rabbit as promised. She parked and got out and he seemingly floated toward her as if he were on a cloud. It was entrancing and when he got to her he kissed her on the forehead. "I'm happy you got here safely." He looked her into the eyes. She never noticed how bright green they were until now. "Any damage to be done should be done by me." He smiled and took her hand, leading her through the entrance and to an elevator on the right of the lobby. She was struck by the fantastic white and green paint job of the walls and the soft manila shag carpeting.

She decided to get him good and excited before they even got to the apartment and grabbed a hold of his crotch. He just stood there against the hallway wall, enjoying himself while she groped around his dick through the tight denim jeans he had on. He couldn't wait to get up to his room and get out her out of those hip hugging pants and t-shirt. She had left her black zip hoodie in her car.

Once they reached the fourth floor he led her by the hand toward room 430. He fumbled for his keys like a drunken, horny frat boy and opened his front door. To her amazement she could see that he barely had any furniture. All that was present was a thirty two inch flat screen TV supported by a blue milk crate and a small black futon.

Sarah cringed. "You have a bed, right?"

Malcolm pulled her toward him and wrapped his body around hers; again her breath was taken away by the embrace. "Of course I do." His lips locked with hers. "And it's a nice bed too." He paused. "I'm not sure if my roommate is here though." He went down the dimly lit hallway and knocked on the second door on the left. After about a minute of heavy pounding he turned back toward Sarah and laughed. "He's a low level office assistant for a big shot lawyer. Probably out of town helping sue God knows who."

Sarah smiled.

Malcolm took off his navy blue sport coat with all the band buttons and threw it on the futon in the large living area. Without the coat she could see just how skinny he actually was. He looked borderline anorexic and she could imagine his hip bones poking her in her legs during sex. The thought gave her shivers.

"So where's the bedroom?" Sarah asked. The place looked like they'd just moved in, except there were not boxes to be seen. The only sign of wealth was the flat screen and about six or seven Blu Ray DVD's on the floor.

"Um..." Malcolm was at a loss. "Don't you want to do anything else first? Are you sure you want to go straight into there?" He didn't necessarily object to the idea but it was a first. Usually he had to work for these sorts of things. The fun of it was the chase (at least that's what he told himself when the other party wasn't as eager as he was at that particular point in time). He liked to romance a little, he wanted to feel like a gentlemen before he got his dick wet.

"Nope, I felt what was down there and I'm all excited now." She blew him a kiss. He smiled in response. "Do you have any rope or anything that could be used as rope?" She asked.

"You want to be tied up?" He asked cautiously. Although after a second of thought he seemed to get excited by the idea.

"No." She said, her grin grew into a straight and serious face. "It's for you." She walked over to him and put her right hand on his cold, pale face. It sent electric shocks throughout her, like biting into an electric eel. She had to pull away before she went into little convulsions.

"But..." Malcolm said, disappointed. "I like being on top." He looked very disappointed in the idea. She would have none of it though.

Sarah came closer and grabbed his balls through his pants and held on tightly, making him get harder than he already was. "You want to fuck me right?" She whispered into his ear.

Malcolm gulped a bubble of air and nodded his head nervously without saying a word. He wanted some tonight and he was willing to do whatever it took to procure it. It's just that this was going a little fast for him.

"Then I'm in control." She said. Malcolm accepted these terms and showed her the way to his bed room down the hall. Once inside she was pleasantly taken aback by all the electronics he had in his room. iPhones and Droids littered the top of his dresser drawer, there were two big, expensive looking laptops on the floor, Dell and Hewlett Packard respectively, and he had a nice bed like he said he did. It was a queen sized mattress with a fine white silk looking comforter that was so thick it could've passed for a mattress itself. She saw potential in the electronics and was happy that he was at least worth the trip over. There had to be about a grand worth of stuff in this room. The thought made her wet down where the sun never shined, that is of course unless she had a job that involved fucking on the beach or something, exceptions can be made.

Malcolm left the room in search of something that could be used as a restraint and came back a few minutes later grinning and dangling two pairs of shiny metallic handcuffs in the air with his left hand. "Will these work?"

Sarah smiled and clasped her hand over her mouth. "Yeah! Where did you get them?"

"I killed a highway patrolman and stole them from his belt." His happy demeanor did not waver. Sarah took it as a joke. She went over to Malcolm and retrieved the cuffs from his hands. He lifted them high above his head, out of her reach. She played along and jumped up to nab them, but every time she did he would raise them higher and higher above. Getting annoyed she put her hands to her side and grunted. Malcolm's smile turned upside down and he gave her the two pairs of restraints out of apology. She placed them on the bed and began to undress. Malcolm followed suit and was naked before she was. Sarah paused in the middle of taking her panties off and was aghast by the size of his genital region. He looked uncomfortably big and she wondered what she would do once she had cuffed him to the bed.

Would she sleep with him?

Could she sleep with him?

She wouldn't sleep with him. She was here for a reason and it wasn't to fuck a well endowed pale skinny white boy hipster. Even his dick and balls were whitish in hue. A major turn off if she had ever seen one.

"Well?" Malcolm said, waving down toward his private area where there was a thick patch of groomed black pubic hair covering the surrounding area his unmentionables. "What do'ya think?"

Sarah had to think fast to keep the momentum going."I think you are the most perfect man I've ever come across!" She lied. "Get on the bed." Malcolm did as he was told and climbed onto the queen sized mattress and laid down on his back. He smiled and extended his arms toward the poles on the head board and kept them there. Sarah went over to one side and slapped on the cuffs, they made a loud scraping clink against the wood when she did so. She made sure they were tight enough where he wouldn't be able to wriggle out. As if his big hands could even do such a thing. Big men were good for certain reasons some times. She went to the other side of the bed and did the same to his other wrist. Malcolm's erection was rigid and sticking way out into the open.

"The key to the cuffs are in my pants pocket." He cooed.

Sarah picked up her panties and put them back on. Whatever drunk facade she had been playing was completely gone now. She hastily began getting her clothes off the floor.

"What are you doing?" Malcolm asked, confused. "I thought we were going to..."

"No." She said matter of factly as she got her shirt up off the floor and held them with the rest of her effects. "I'm not here to fuck you." She turned toward him and smiled. "You have a lot of nice things in this room. I was worried when I saw your living room but as it turns out, this trip wasn't a waste after all."

"You cunt licking bitch!" Malcolm tried to break free but it was no use. The headboard held steadfastly and the cuffs would not falter. Sarah laughed and got fully dressed before taking the smart phones from his dresser and putting them in her pink Gucci purse.

"I wonder if you are the kind of loser who keeps cash in his wallet?" Sarah picked up Malcolm's jeans and looked through the pockets. The wallet was a small brown leather number and had two Wells Fargo credit cards, fifty six dollars in cash, and some loose change. Not a lot but she supposed it was enough to get home and buy some pot from her neighbor in Deer Trail. In her purse the money and cards went.

She looked through the other pocket and found the key he was talking about. She threw the pants down and then waved it in front of Malcolm's feet. He growled and for a moment she could swear it was an animal sound. It was too deep and guttural to be human. She let it pass and placed the key on top of the dresser, which was a good four feet away from her target.

"Looks like Mr. Roommate will have to get you out of this one." She sang. Sarah grabbed both laptops and held onto them, one on top of the other with both arms. "If you have password protection on these things I'm going to be very disappointed." Malcolm was beyond words and just lay on the bed as the scene played out before him. If he were able to grow red with rage, this would've been the time he would have done so. He felt embarrassed to still have a huge erection during a time like this.

"I'm going to kill you..." He said in a low, scary voice that spooked Sarah. She stopped mid stride and turned around, dumbfounded to hear that animal growl again.

"Yeah," Sarah replied, now unsure of herself. "I'm totally sure you will." She paused for almost a minute and went for the door, but before she left she turned back and faced Malcolm. "I hope it was as good for you as it was for me." And with a nervous, laugh she left, slamming the door behind her.

Malcolm struggled against the wooden poles of his bed, cursing and growing wild. It groaned and creaked with the pressure he was exerting on them. After almost ten minutes of his anger building and building the headboard poles gave in.

Sarah had left the apartment and was in her car within a minute. She sped out of the underground parking lot and within twenty minutes was well on her way toward Deer Trail off of I70 east bound. Particularly proud of her booty she relished the accomplishment. She had the new Bloc Party album playing on her MP3 player and was getting into a groove of sorts when she heard it. A scratch on the roof of her Prius, at first it was just a minor annoyance but soon it grew louder and louder. She ignored it the best she could but after almost ten minutes of it she decided to pull into the nearest exit and into an all night Conoco gas station. She parked in the front and got out. Sarah got out and examined the roof, saw what looked like claw marks. Whatever had been on top of the car had scratched the hell out of it. Silver metal shown through the scratched up paint, it was as if somebody had keyed it with a Goddamn rake.

"Awe, fuck all!" She shouted, causing nearby motorists who were filling up their cars to look her way. Embarrassed she ducked her head inside her arms and went inside the convenience store, where she searched for something to eat.

Maybe something to drink.

Anything to take her mind of the fucking car.

Anything to take her mind off of those horrible claw marks.

Anything to get her mind off how much it would cost to get those damn marks removed; she had just stolen it not even three months ago. Having done the same routine with Malcolm but that time with a straight razor, she had been able to permanently incapacitate the man and had searched through his house until she found the title and all of the papers for it. She forged his name on the right ones and had gotten the car legally put in her name. The insurance was being paid by one of the few people who she hadn't screwed over, well, not totally. He was her sugar daddy and he treated her well.

The thought made her smile as she perused the chip isle of the store. She picked out some Rold Gold pretzel sticks and grabbed a Diet Coke from the refrigerated drink section before heading toward the cashier. The lady up front was a short, pudgy, with long brown hair down to her ass. Sarah thanked her stars to be as lucky as she was to be so tall and beautiful. Even with her blue hair she considered herself a catch.

She placed the items on the counter.

As the lady scanned them into her register she asked "So how are we tonight?"

Sarah smiled. "I'm doing excellent. Just got done with a job and I'm finally heading home."

The lady returned the grin and pulled out a plastic bag from underneath the counter. "Well that's good to hear. I'm getting off at five this morning myself."

That reminded Sarah, it was nearly three am and she had yet to call her man to ask if she could come over in the morning to get some ecstasy pills. She took the brown plastic bag and said goodbye to the homely cashier. As she walked back to her car she took another long look at the damage to her roof. As she surveyed the destruction she couldn't help but think of Malcolm's low and frightening animal growl.

'I'm going to kill you...'

"What the hell could of done that?" She asked herself. The opened the driver's side door with her free hand and she placed the bag on the passenger side seat. She got in and fumbled inside her purse for the keys. She always lost her keys in the damn thing because it was so cluttered with knick knacks and such, souvenirs of conquests past. One was a tiny ceramic teddy bear she had stolen from a lesbian a few months ago; another was a small glove from this short guy with long dark hair who claimed to be a war hero. Her favorite though was an old Transformer toy. One of the mini ones from the eighties, she remembered its name to be 'Beachcomber'. She loved those toys and was ecstatic to have taken such a find.

She hadn't really gotten anything from Malcolm's place that could be considered a souvenir because the man barely had anything except for what she had taken from his room. She supposed she could always keep one of the phones she had taken. Her Blackberry was old anyways, she'd just have one of the Droids flashed and set to her Verizon service plan. The thought brought a smile to her face.

She cursed herself though for not going back for the Blu Ray player and DVD's.

She turned the keys to the ignition and it puttered to life, she then pulled back out of the parking lot, then sped off and out onto the service road which led to the highway. Once there she set the car in fifth gear and coasted on the highway at nearly eighty miles an hour. That is at least until she heard the scratching noises from on the top of her car again.

"What the hell is that?" She asked herself, visibly shaking with fear. It was like nails on steel and it was enough to give her both a headache and chills all throughout her Barbie doll body. The noises only got louder as she drove and she debated on whether or not to pull over to the side of the road, get the gun out of her purse, and take care of whatever was causing her so much distress.

The sounds cut to her very bones and shattered her eardrums. It was like being at a rock concert or something, whatever was on top of the car, it was fucking it up royally. A few moments later the scratching stopped, but it did little to ease Sarah's nerves. She nervously looked into her rear view mirror, hoping that the cause of the noises had fallen off and onto the road at eighty miles an hour. She saw nothing in the back of the road though.

A loud metallic clank jolted her out of her lane and she had to pull herself back before she ran into the only other oncoming car on the road. Luckily though there were no cars other than that one on the road at this time of night. There generally no motor vehicles around the Bennett area normally anyways but the fact still remained that it would be her luck that she would slam into a semi truck going out of the lines like she had just done.

Her heart was pulsating at great speed and she began to break out into a cold sweat. Another clink, more like a terrible steel crunch, sent her into panic and she stepped on the gas, hoping to throw off the thing that was on her roof.

"GO AWAY!" She screamed. She wanted to break and throw the creature or whatever it was off but she knew that at the speed she was going she would be more liable to flip over and kill herself.

It was then the whole roof flew off of the car with a mighty metallic rip. She sped off the road and into the grassy field to her right. She looked up and saw nothing but the stars above. No sign of any monster, she was in full panic attack mode right now and wished she had some valium or Xanax or something. This wasn't good at all!

"FUCK!" She bellowed, losing grip of her wheel.

Then a cold hand fell on her shoulder. She looked to her passenger side and saw Malcolm sitting there. Her blood ran cold and her extremities went numb as if she had just gotten an intravenous shot of Novocain. He grinned and bared his ivory white teeth. His canines had grown and were now poking out of his mouth. His eyes were red like the stop lights she so often ignored. And his complexion was white as his silk sheets had been with a hint of horrible blue.

"That was the best sex I ever had!" Malcolm said in a deep, monstrous baritone, moments before he violently tore into her neck.
Chapter 1: I'ma just gonna get a little high

"God damn it!" Josh shouted in the closed up bathroom stall of The Corner Bakery. The heroin balloon he'd just bought not even ten minutes prior had turned out to be a piece of chocolate mint, which infuriated him to no end. Heroin should either be a nice black ball of vinegar smelling goo or it should be a light brown powder, at least in the western states. Junkies around Colorado would kill for the chance at some china white.

Josh took in a deep breath and threw the opened black wrapper with the black candy stuck to it into the toilet and gathered his works. He put his needle, metal spoon, lighter, and cotton swab back into the top open zipper of his brown messenger tote bag. Once everything was placed in there and zipped up he put back on his black punk zip hoodie with band buttons all over it.

Le Tigre

The Photo Atlas

The Offspring

My Chemical Romance

The Postal Service

Many more, plus one that told the reader that Josh was one smart cookie, it even had a cookie cartoon on it below the words.

Josh punched the right wall of the stall and opened the bathroom door. He was surprised to find a short man with a mustache waiting to use the facility. Josh waved him in and left the restaurant, leading him out onto the 16th Street Mall.

The day was cold and there was a little snow on the ground as he walked south / east toward Civic Center Park, where all good drugs could be found. Actually not ALL the good drugs, that title was held steadfastly with the pager dealers. The pagers were Mexicans (Only buy heroin in Denver from Mexicans, Josh learned this the hard way, as the ten dollar piece of mint he had bought just then was from a tall skinny white dude with t brown chin hair and a ratty looking black AVs hoodie had proven.) who had cars and would come to you anywhere within the city to bring you the dope. Josh considered these guys were awesome and felt that they had the best stuff but they were tough on enforcing the price. There was no haggling with these guys. They had great shit and they knew it.

Josh stopped at the end of 16th and Curtis and took out his wallet to see how much money he had left after being robbed. Twenty dollars was all he had and it needed to last at least until Monday (two days from now) when he could get tips from his job as a barista at The Jumping Bean coffee house. How he'd managed to be a junkie and keep a job was anyone's guess. The cold and hot flashes were already coming in waves all over his small body.

Josh decided to go for it. He could buy two pieces and make it last until then. He had the willpower.

Right?

He put the duct tape wallet he had bought from Hot Topic back into the pocket of his skinny jeans and took out his cell phone from his other. Josh didn't want to have another candy ordeal so he was calling in the one person he knew wouldn't screw him over. After taking off the phone's key lock he went into his contacts and found Jose's number. He hit dial and waited with the phone against his ear as the ring tone played festive Mexican mariachi music. After about six seconds he finally heard that familiar accented voice.

"Yeah, what?" Jose asked in fast, clipped speech.

"Hey man! I need twenty of black." Josh waited for a reply while Jose said something to somebody in the room with him.

"Ok man." He said. "10th and Bannock, twenty minutes."

"Cool, thanks dude." Josh hung up and locked his phone, putting it back into his pants pocket. He began his trek toward the destination down the way. The best way to do this was to take the "0" bus over on Market Street, which was only two blocks away

He'd gotten there in record time. The bus was just about to leave when he got to the stop down on Market and there were very few pickups aside from the main one on Broadway and Colfax, which always had at least ten people wanting to get on.

As he stood on the corner of 10th and Bannock he pondered on how long he could keep this up. He had no insurance therefore going to a detox facility was out of the question. He supposed he could always claim he was suicidal and go to West Pines, but they'd just see right through his plans and kick him out before he would even have the chance to take the first of the prescribed detoxification medicine. There was always Suboxone, which could be bought at the park during certain times throughout the day.

Suboxone is both an opioid agonist and antagonist. Meaning that it bonded to the opiate receptors like an opiate would, but it had a touch of Narcan in it, which was the cure for opiate overdose. This combination made it impossible to get high once on the medication. You also had to make sure you were in complete withdrawal before you took it, or it would put you in it and hard!

But these thoughts were far from ever coming into fruition. For now he was content with sticking a needle in his arm every day of the week, fifty two weeks a year, for the last two years. The rush of heroin was far better than any sexual encounter he'd ever had. No orgasm could compete with it. No pussy, no matter how tight and wet, could ever come close to how it felt when the dope hit your brain.

Dopamine is released when it hits.

Dopamine is the feel good stuff you get after an orgasm and after you eat a good meal.

Drugs hi jack this system and gives it to you on demand.

A natural high in a sense.

The thought of getting some soon made his body shiver with anticipation and he broke out into a cold sweat, which also could've been from the withdrawal from not having it in nearly twenty three hours.

It had to have been nearly thirty five minutes since he had last called him. He reached for his phone when he heard a honk. A dark green car came to a stop and parked alongside the road. Josh smiled and waved at the man in the vehicle, he did not return the gesture and actually scowled at him. He walked around and got in the passenger side door.

"Hey man!" Josh said, handing the Mexican the twenty dollars.

"Hey, mang." The man said, his speech garbled with heroin and coke balloons in his mouth. He spit one out of his mouth but it was white. He put it back in and spat out another, this time black. He went for a second one and then handed Josh the balloons. Josh saluted the guy and got out of the passenger side door. As he walked around the car it started and went down the street, where it made a left and disappeared. Josh surveyed the two heroin balls in his hand and could almost feel the intense euphoria that they would bring him. He smiled and headed down toward sixth, where there was a Starbucks bathroom with his name written all over it in red marker.

Or blood from the needle that would puncture his skin.
Chapter 2: Home, sweet hell.

Malcolm had made it home just before sunrise and he was beat. Chasing after that girl had taken it out of him. He debated on whether or not he should watch the daily light come from across the sky but thought better of it. It's not like he would burn up or anything, that was just in the movies, he was just a night owl.

He took off his clothes, which were stained with her blood, and hopped into the shower. In frustration over not bedding the girl he jerked off and aimed his penis toward the shower hole, taking his sperm down the pipes and out to God knows where. Once he was done with that he grabbed his loofa sponge and wiped himself off vigorously with Ax Body Wash. The shower head came to his chest and he had to duck to get his head into the water's line of fire. One of the downsides of being tall, he supposed.

He felt unclean and no matter how hot the water was or how hard he scrubbed he just couldn't get that damn female's scent off of him. He could smell the copper and iron of her plasma on his skin where it had spattered.

After nearly twenty minutes of this he turned the shower off and stepped out to dry himself off. He pulled the pink towel from the shower rod and wrapped it around his waist and walked out into the hallway and into his room, where he changed into his Power Ranger pajama bottoms. How he'd ever found them in his size was beyond him.

He walked barefoot and shirtless into the small kitchen that was adjoined to the living area. He wasn't hungry, probably wouldn't be for a while, but he was dying for some water. They had one of those Brita water filters that they advertised on TV and to be honest he couldn't taste the difference. He grabbed the container out of the refrigerator and placed it on the white wooden counter. He went to the top cabinet for a glass but could not find any. To his left was the dish sink, which had dirty dinnerware and cups piled to the tipping point. There was an ugly orange tint to the water and it stained the white dishes sticking up out of it. It was Harold's turn to do the dishes and he didn't even bother to do a damn one.

"I'm going to fucking kill that bastard when he gets home!" Malcolm said softly to himself. He felt like at that moment he would go through with his threat if Harold were to walk into the apartment at that particular point in time. He was lucky that he was on a business trip (at least Malcolm assumed that's where he was because he wasn't home the night before) because he would of loved to tear his head off and suck on his spinal fluid at that very instant.

Malcolm stepped back and breathed in slowly, counting backwards from ten. He felt the need to kill something but he knew that he had already satisfied this craving earlier that day. It was time to relax. He would just wipe off the dishes and put them in the washer, keeping one to himself so he could get a drink.

A drink... Man that sounded good. He'd been good and sloshed last night until that flapping skin of a cunt had left him hooked to his bed posts, which by the way he had to replace soon because he had broken them in two. It was a shame because he liked that headboard. It came with the bed and he had paid good money for it. He supposed that getting back his computers and phones was worth the damage. He had taken those things from the people he had killed in the past few months. People he thought deserved what they got. He never took a life that he felt wasn't already wasted. Those people he'd pick up at the bars. What was their life going to be like ten years down the line? Those people desperately searching for themselves when they should know that what matters most was already there, but no, they had to want more.

The girl who's father wouldn't give her a new car for her birthday.

The boy who'd never come to terms with his sexuality.

The man that will still be chasing the rock star dream fifteen years down the road, not ever holding a serious job and just getting older, and more destitute, these were people who needed to be put out of their misery. They may not have known it at that moment, but Malcolm did.

He felt sorry for his roommate Harold. The man sucked up to a boss who would never give him the time of day. Four years of college to be under somebody who abuses him. Not only was his boss this person to him, everyone was. Malcolm could generally make him do what he wanted to if he asked the right way. Asking nice never worked, he had to make his point loud and clear. Sometimes by threats, other times by raising his voice, but always with animosity.

Malcolm looked at the dishes in the sink. His anger replaced by an emptiness, and emptiness he wanted so badly to fill. He thought all the time about how he was serving humanity by doing what he does in which he does to survive. But he would never admit to himself that he was on a quest himself. All these people, these sad machines, they were merely stepping stones in his own eternal struggle.

Eternal... If hell didn't freeze and the creek didn't rise, he was going to be around for a long time. Both a blessing and a curse, he, for better or worse, was who he was. He had never come to terms with his own self let alone anything that had happened that hot July night three hundred years ago. He never asked to become such a monster. Death was a luxury he didn't have, so he dealt it out to those deserving and in need of it.

Sweet release...

Sweet release from this horrible world that would just set them into an endless cycle of neediness and pain. He only got the most deserving. It was his gift. He was a good man for doing what he does.

Right?

Malcolm was sitting on the black futon watching the movie Sunshine with Cillian Murphy on Blu-Ray when he heard the front door's lock shift. After some fumbling and a curse, it opened and Harold spilled through, holding a big brown moving box with the words "Denver Liquors" printed on it in big green letters.

Malcolm liked how the short red headed boy looked. So professional looking and sharply dressed. If he was gay or bi he would have crossed the boundaries so very long ago.

He wondered if his asshole would stretch to accommodate him.

Another thought entered his mind at that moment as well, he was hoping that the box was full of hard spirits. Being drunk is legal for a reason, because it simply rocks.

"Hey man!" The ginger said, placing the box on the kitchen floor. Malcolm put his beer down on the carpet. He stood up and stretched, touching the manila stucco ceiling as he did.

"What's up bra?" Malcolm said as he walked over to pat his roommate on the shoulders. Harold took off his black rimmed glasses and smiled, fully showing off his coffee stained teeth.

"Guess what I've got?" He said with a smirk.

"I can only guess." Malcolm walked back over to the futon where his beer sat and picked it up. He took a long sip of his Coors and waited impatiently for an answer.

This had better be good.

That was when he heard it. A tiny squeak of a meow. Malcolm's heart sank. "Man!" He shouted. "We can't keep cats in this place! Are you crazy!?" He walked over toward his friend and roommate and was honestly about to punch him straight in the face until Harold went the box and pulled out a pure grey kitten. Malcolm looked at it with an empty feeling inside his bones. Harold extended the kitten forward for him to take and he held it in mid air for the longest time before Malcolm took the bait.

"Well?" Harold laughed as he shoved the kitten toward Malcolm's face. He handed it to Malcolm and he was momentarily speechless. The little guy was already purring in his hands.

"I..." He was at a loss for words. "He is kind of cute." Malcolm began cradling it in his arms. "I have to admit that." The kitten began licking his hand, tickling him as it did so.

"See, I told you!" Harold said with satisfaction. He reached down and picked up a grey and white kitten and held it like a new born baby. "I'm calling this one Fred."

Malcolm looked down at the creature in his arms. "We can't keep these man, you know it's a two hundred and fifty dollar deposit to have these things here."

"It's all cool man! I've already paid for mine. You just have to pay for yours." He looked down at his kitten and back up toward Malcolm again. "That is unless of course you don't want to keep yours?"

"Man..." Malcolm protested. "This is not fair!" The kitten had already fallen asleep in his arms when he was just about to put it back in the box. He couldn't for the life of him put it down. It was a part of him now. He was his and his was he. This made Malcolm feel like he had been cornered. It was like he was suffering a sort of Stockholm Syndrome of fluff.

"Well I think you like him!" Harold laughed. "What are you going to call yours?"

Malcolm gave him a look of disgust, but it quickly dissipated when he looked down at the tiny creature sleeping and purring on his elongated arms. A wave of peace fell over him and he said softly "Fido." He looked up and for the first time in a long while he had a sparkle in his bright green eyes. "His name is Fido." He smiled and looked back down at the kitten laying on his two appendages.

"I thought you'd see it my way!" Harold lightly punched Malcolm's right arm in jest. "I knew you'd fall in love right away!"

"This doesn't mean that the situation isn't any less irritating." He said as he gently placed the kitten back into the box on the kitchen floor. When he looked inside he saw three other ones writhing around aimlessly. "What the hell is this?" He asked, his anger making a comeback.

"Well..." Harold had to think for a second for the right words. He knew when Malcolm was about to explode and this was certainly one of those times. "They were sort of a package deal."

"What the fuck man!?" Malcolm shouted.

"Hey man! Don't yell at me!" Harold shielded his face with his hands, expecting another blow like the last time. "The guy said he was going to bring them to a shelter! You know what happens when they can't find homes for animals in a shelter? They kill them!"

"I could kill you right this minute!" Malcolm raised his fist but thought better of it. He instead put his hands to his side and counted backwards from ten, breathing in slowly and heavily as he did so.

"Please don't be mad man." Harold pleaded, but the relaxation exercise wasn't working for Malcolm.

Malcolm immediately brought up an old wound. "Do you know when you left last you left an entire sink of dirty dishes?" He motioned toward the sink, which was by now clear of debris and had been scrubbed clean.

"Yeah man, I'm sorry! I got called away for work on short notice!"

The excuse only made Malcolm more infuriated. "Do you know that it was YOUR job to do those damn things?" He grabbed Harold's scrawny arm and led him to the dishwasher. He opened the dishwasher door and pointed toward the sparkling white porcelain dishes. "I did the fucking dishes! Your job! I did these goddamn fucking dishes!" He pulled Harold's arm hard and brought his roommate to his knees. His anger was so red hot at the moment that even Malcolm honestly did not know what he was going to do next.

"Please man! You're hurting me!" Harold pleaded.

"Fuck you!" Malcolm shouted in his face, spitting as he did so. Harold saw that Malcolm's eyes had gone from a light green to a dark, pitch black maroon. He had never been more scared in his life.

"Please! Don't hurt me Malcolm! I'm sorry!" Harold's arm was being twisted to the breaking point at his elbow.

"Do you know that you are wasting away your life as well?" Malcolm's canines began to grow. "Do you know that you will always be stuck in the same old cycle of being the subservient fool!?

"Please Malcolm!" Harold's eyes were tearing up fast and what little color he had had had melted away from his already pale face. Malcolm let go of Harold's right arm and grabbed a hold of Harold's neck with both of his massive hands, and lunged for his jugular, taking sick pleasure in his roommate's sudden and intense pain.

His blood tasted sweet.

He must have eaten some fruit that morning.
Chapter 3: Lazy daze...

Josh sat on the couch in the living room that he shared with two other men. He had just shot up and was feeling particularly woozy. If he hadn't sat down he would've surely fell on the floor and passed out. He was watching the news on the old school big screen box set TV. Something about some kid being hit by a car and only coming out with a few minor bruises or something. It was just something to pass the time while he nodded out.

Next up after the commercial was a human interest story about some stupid high school football player who was making the ranks with an artificial left foot.

Should of gotten some coke to go along with this shit, he thought. That would have made all this just THAT much more enjoyable.

The news is awesome while you are high. Everyone just seems so serious.

The first of his roommates wasn't expected for another three hours or so. He was all alone in his oblivion. The colors on the screen blurred together and the TV set had a white aura around it. It made Josh want to go up and hug it.

After a few more minutes of idling he decided to give his girlfriend a call. Cindy was an amazing girl mainly because she had a car and liked to do dope with him on the weekends. She was very understanding of his habit and even loaned him money for it on occasion. The only thing she wasn't good for was support when he needed to actually go get the shit. That's where she drew the line. She had told him that she did not like the idea of going to jail any time soon so whatever he was doing downtown would be his fight and his fight alone.

Still though, nothing's hotter than a chick who bangs with you.

Bang...

Josh was suddenly very horny which is also a great motivator and grabbed his phone from the coffee table. He looked into his contacts and found her, hit send, and listened to her Pink Floyd ringtone while he waited for her to answer.

"Hello Josh." She sounded perturbed.

"Hello lovely." Josh made a kissing sound into the phone. "How are you tonight?"

"I'm good, almost done with work here." Josh could hear people in the background at the restaurant she was a server at, The Cheesecake Factory. Josh personally anything with a cream based sauce.

"When you get off would you like to come over?"

"I'm not really in the mood to stick anything in my arm."

Josh sighed. "Well actually I have nothing right now. I was just wondering if I could see you?"

There was a pause on the other line. "I'm also not really in the mood to be intimate with anyone right now."

Josh's heart sank deep into his chest cavity, somewhere below his lungs. "We don't have to fuck you know."

"Josh..." Cindy tried to find the right words. "I've had a super shitty day and I really need some time to myself." Cindy sighed loudly. "Fine Josh." She said. "I'll be over there when I get off in thirty minutes."

It worked! Josh smiled. "I'll prepare us some microwave dinners."

"Actually I've already eaten."

"Oh..." Josh was disappointed. "Well alright. Maybe we can watch a movie?"

"Sure Josh. Whatever. I need to get back to work now OK?"

"OK." Josh hung up on her and placed his smart phone back onto the coffee table. Since he wasn't going to get any tonight (that he knew of) he might as well get more fucked up.

He knew that he wasn't the average junkie because Josh had been reading up on this. When you get an energy boost from downers (heroin, oxycodone, benzodiazepines) and fucking fall asleep while taking uppers (cocaine, meth, speed) then you had a paradoxical system. Meaning that what a drug is supposed to do doesn't happen. Instead you have the opposite effect and it's, well, it's pretty sweet if you asked him.

Josh figured that he would do the last of his heroin before Cindy got there, although a stupid idea seeing as it was the last he would get for another day, it was a little white lie that harmed no one. She didn't want to do the shit anyways so why should he have offered it to her? Being a junky made you selfish most of the time, it not all of it.

And still, he bought it. Why should he share?

Selfish...

Josh headed toward his bed room. Once there he closed and locked his door. The dresser over by the mattress on the floor (which took up most of the room) held his screwdriver. He took it out and went over to the heating vent on the floor. He unscrewed the nuts and took off the face, revealing a cavity where his works sat. They were in a brown cloth bag and included everything you needed to prep heroin and other drugs:

1: Syringe - 1cc diabetic insulin needle

2: Bic lighter - Other lighters are good for the purpose but for the best results you use a Bic. It's not too hot nor is the flame too low to do any good. It's just the right amount of volume to heat up the next article of works.

3: Metal spoon - You use this to melt down the heroin. It can be a bitch if you are caught with a burnt spoon because, you can always say you are diabetic and get away with having a syringe, but having a blackened metal spoon on your person only pointed to one possiblity.

4: Cotton - Q-tips are good for this purpose because they are not too fluffy where bits will come apart and give you cotton fever, which is where a bit of stray debris gets into the needle and goes into your blood stream, causing terrible chest pains and sometimes knocking you completely flat. As much as it hurts, it rarely causes anything more than great discomfort.

5: Bottle of water - You need water to as a medium in which to melt down the heroin and turn it into liquid form. It's preferable to use bottled water since it's been filtered but Josh has been so desperate before that he's used toilet water from said bathroom he was fixing up in. It's really not as bad as you think since you heat the stuff until it boils, effectively killing off any pathogens that may be present.

Last but not least...

6: The heroin - Almost always found wrapped in black trash bag plastic in a tightly wound ball (at least in Denver). These are called balloons. There are generally three to five layers and it takes a skilled hand / sometimes mouth, to open them quickly.

Heroin can come in three different forms.

a: black tar - As the name suggests, the heroin is in the form of a sticky pliable black ball. Generally it can be stuck to the spoon and melted by adding water and heating it. It dissolves well but it's never recommended to load up a syringe with the stuff without filtering it through a cotton, seeing as this type of opiate has the most cut (additives that turn it from its source material INTO the black ball that you get.).

b: black, brown, grey powder mix - This form is generally called "Shotgun Powder". It's far more potent than the black tar and is easy to overdose on, seeing as the potency varies more widely with this kind than with the black tar (unless the tar is from a pager connect, in which case all bets are off. Might as well have your will signed and notarized if you want to go overboard with that stuff.) and can burn when injected. You also don't really need to cook this type, you can generally get it melted with room temperature water. But it's still a good idea to heat it up seeing as it becomes a liquid a lot faster that way.

c: white powder - Also known as "China White". As the name suggests it is a white powder form of heroin, although the case is out on whether it is opium or fentanyl based. Fentanyl is a man made class of opioid and is about one hundred times more potent than morphine, although the half-life for maximum potency for this about fifteen / thirty minutes instead of the normal three to six hours.

All things Josh had learned in rehab. Just like going to jail makes you a better criminal, going to rehab generally makes you into a better, wiser junky.

He took out his small brown cloth bag and took out his works, laying them on the wooden floor before him. Methodically he set the spoon to his right and took out the balloons that he had and opened it, putting the use wrapper in the bag. He placed the heroin ball on the spoon and smooshed it into the metal. Then he took off the cap of the bottled water and poured a little bit of H20 into it and sat both down next to the spoon. He then drew up about sixty units of said water and squirted it into the spoon. He raised it to eye level and took the lighter and lit the bottom part of the utensil. After about four seconds the water began to boil and he let it do so for about another two seconds before letting go of the gas valve on the Bic. Putting the spoon back onto the floor he took out the plunger of the needle and stirred the contents of the spoon until it was all black liquid. Once completely dissolved he put it back into the syringe and tore a piece of cotton off of a Q-Tip and placed it in the heroin soup, it soaked it up like a sponge. He stuck the needle into the middle of the cotton and drew it up.

Next came the fun part.

He put the needle down and took off his belt. Taking off his black zip hoodie, he revealed his track marked left arm and wrapped the belt around itself just above his elbow. He squeezed his fists until veins started to pop out. Really he didn't need to do this anymore, the scars on his arm showed where to shoot, but it was just easier when they were out and about and full of blood. He then took the needle and traced along a vein until he found an untouched spot. From there he stuck the needle in and winced at the poke. He drew back and was pleasantly surprised to have drawn blood on the first try.

Then he depressed the plunger. Josh took out the needle and put it on the floor before him. He began counting to five on his fingers until it hit him.

And it hit him hard.

His whole body tensed up like a coaxial cable and it felt as if all body processes (breathing, heartbeat, digestion, etc.) had stopped for one split second. His head spun around for almost a full second before the world came back to and he felt everything just release and his body let go and the euphoria set in. Josh sat there for a few moments, unable to move, a shocked expression plastered all over his face like he was gasping for air, until he finally came to and started to put his things away. Before he put the needle back into the brown cloth bag he drew up another eighty units of water and sprayed it into the air, cleaning out the blood and any other substances that could clog it up, effectively rinsing it out.

He put everything back into the vent and put the face back on, screwing it tightly. It was a good thing that they really couldn't afford to turn on the heat because things would probably melt down there if they did so. It was a safe hiding place for now.

Josh looked at the tiny red spot where he shot up and started to tear up. Was this is life?

What good is a junkie?

What good was a stupid person like him?

He wished he would of gone to college and never have started this whole mess.

Josh closed his eyes and breathed hard until the feeling passed.

Josh wasn't very close with either of his roommates and he suspected that they knew something was up, although it was hard to differentiate when he was high and when he wasn't seeing as he was seemingly always under the influence. Josh liked it this way, even if it meant that he had formed a crippling addiction to the shit.

Josh stumbled back out of his room and methodically found his way back to the couch, where he sat down and pretended to have an air of complacency just in case one of his roommates just happened to show up and question his sobriety. He was ready to counter any inquiries that may come his way.

He turned the TV onto the history channel, where it was showing a program on how the universe was made. He marveled at the intricacy in which the Milky Way was formed. The way that the cosmic dust had combined into a cluster of particles that had formed the basis of this great galaxy...

Josh lost it.

His train of thought slipped when he realized that there was somebody knocking at his door. Could it have been twenty minutes already?

Josh got up to answer. In the time he had been out to then, his bare feet had adjusted to not walking on a cold hardwood floor and it caused him to moan and dance like as if he were jogging down a row of hot coals. The only relief came from the blue shag place mat at the foot of his front door.

When he opened it he was at first struck by Cindy's Asian beauty, her slanted and narrow eyelids, he small five foot two stature, her tiny, tiny feet.

God, two of those would fit in my shoe, Josh thought to himself.

Cindy was holding a white paper bag to the side of her white and black Cheesecake Factory uniform. She smiled. "Can I come in?"

"Depends." Josh grinned. "What's in the bag and how much will this cost me later?"

"Nothing as long as you don't overdose and die on me." She said seriously and without empathy as she passed him through the door and sat on the black velvet couch. The food was placed on the coffee table and she raised one foot and took off her shoe, she repeated this with the other and threw them Josh's way.

"Watch it!" Josh laughed. He walked over to the couch and sat besides Cindy. His arm stretched out to give her a hug but she pushed it back. "Josh," she said and then paused. "Let's just eat."

Josh felt his standing with her was slipping. If he was to get any tonight he had better bring out the big guns.

"You want some H?" He asked as he went through the white paper bag on the coffee table before him.

"I thought you didn't have any." Cindy's tone was dark.

"Well." Josh took out a Styrofoam container and opened it, there was a breast of duck meat in it. "I just had the shit delivered."

Cindy threw up her arms. "I don't come over here every time just to get high! Aren't we more than that?"

Josh took a piece with his free hand and took a bite out of the meat. "Come on!" He said with a mouthful of protean. "You are on the wagon one day and off the next. I get sick from twirling on this ride every time we get together!"

Josh's tone scared Cindy a little so she retreated into herself and told him in a small voice that she was sorry, she would be more considerate next time. To make amends she scooted closer to Josh and put her hand up his shirt. To her utter shock there was less of him than there normally was. She only felt his rib bones so prominently when he had been using a lot. She wanted to say something to him but he seemed to be enjoying her grope him. She did not want to make him upset like that last time he went off on her not even two months ago. She didn't think she could handle him being depressed at the moment. She had had a long day.

After you bought him a gram with the tips you were saving for rent, she told herself in a devil like voice. You had to ask your parents for the money, you said you had a medical emergency and needed a growth cut off...

Josh kissed her head and wondered what she was thinking about. He too assumed that the yelling he just did somehow triggered memories. He hoped not. That was an accident. He had told her not to push him. Literally push him, that's not how you attack an intervention. You don't start growling at the person and threatening them. She fucking used the stuff herself for Christ's sake! How can you be so hypocritical?

Josh lost whatever lust he had and let himself fall into Cindy's side. He was seven inches taller than she was so she had to put extra effort into not buckling under his weight. This was appreciated and Josh wrapped his arms around her, she did not push him away this time however. She felt that the situation called for it and that he wouldn't of asked her to come over if he didn't like her.

At least this was the hope.

She decided that lying on her back for five minutes was worth a happy Josh. When she looked up at his stubbly face she saw that he was in a somber mood. She reached for his belt buckle and undid it.

Josh looked down in amazement. "I thought not tonight?"

"I take it back." She said as she got up.

Josh had lost the feeling though. He motioned for her to come into his arms and just be with him. This worried Cindy because the act of sex seemed as important to him as any guy. But tonight he just wanted to be held.

"Are you alright?" She asked.

"I'm fine." Josh replied as she got back on the couch and sat with him. She let his arms wrap around her as he laid his head on top of hers.

"I love you." He said in a small scared voice.

"I love you too." She said, although she was worried that she may not.
Chapter 4: There's kittens everywhere! Why are there so many kittens everywhere!?

Malcolm had not even finished mopping up the excess blood from Harold when Harold's phone rang. Not really thinking and more of in a trance state Malcolm reached into Harold's pocket and took out his phone. It was one of the older Blackberry models. The number wasn't one listed in his phone but he answered it anyways.

"Hello?" Malcolm suddenly became aware of what he just did.

"Yes," The voice on the other line said. "I'm calling about the free kittens ad on Craigslist?"

Malcolm went cold, well, colder. He looked down at Harold's body and felt a wave of guilt wash over him. The man wasn't going to keep all the kittens, all five, for himself. Malcolm slapped his forehead.

"Of course!" He said. "My ex roommate told me about that!" He held the phone between his shoulder and head and bent down to lift Harold's lifeless corpse.

Sorry buddy, Malcolm thought. I thought you were going to pull another dog episode again. And I was mad. Please forgive me won't ya?

"Yeah, I was wondering when and where I could come over and have a look at them?" The man was enthusiastic. "It's for my daughter."

"How sweet." Malcolm said absently, dragging his old friend through the living room. He wasn't too heavy but the only time he ever had strength was when he was mad or about to make a kill, this wasn't one of those times. Malcolm kept on the phone between his shoulder and head as he let go of Harold and opened up a hallway closet.

"Yeah, it's a graduation gift."

Malcolm wasn't able to fit Harold in the closet so he broke his back and stuffed him in best he could. The man on the other line was sort of bugging him so he decided to end it short.

"You can come down to 1444 Platte St. It's the big series of condos near Boulder St." Harold's arm wasn't cooperating so Malcolm left it there and went into the kitchen for a knife. Preferably something serrated. "I'm home right now," Malcolm thought for a moment. "Actually right now is a bad time. Would you mind coming over sometime tomorrow evening? I'm having trouble around the house and I'd prefer to take care of it without interruptions."

"Oh yeah, totally." The man laughed. "What color are they?"

Malcolm went through the silverware drawer but could only find small steak knives. He was getting annoyed and went to the big utensils drawer on the opposite side of the kitchen. "They're black and white. Didn't the post say anything about that?" Still no luck. Malcolm was wondering now if he could just bite the damn thing off.

"No. The post just said there were free kittens to a good home and the phone number. Can I speak with your roommate, is he the one who made the post?"

"Ex roommate." Malcolm corrected him. He gave up and took a small serrated steak knife from the utensil drawer and headed back down toward the hallway closet. "He left this morning." Malcolm used his free arm to pull Harold's left arm completely out of the socket, causing an audible crunching noise.

"What was that?" The man asked.

Damn this man is asking a lot of questions, Malcolm thought bitterly. "I'm cutting up ribs for dinner. What time can you come tomorrow? I work from home."

"Actually I'd like to come over tonight if that's OK with you."

Malcolm stopped in the middle of taking Harold's shirt off and sighed with exasperation. "I told you, not tonight."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." He got the shirt off and could see where he had unplugged Harold's shoulder socket. He took the knife to the middle of where it had been connected and began to saw at it.

"Man, I'd sure like to..." The man on the other line started laughing. Malcolm was not in the mood and was about to go down to that man's house and kill him. "Man I'm just bullshitting ya! Don't post your phone number on the internet asshole!"

Malcolm stopped what he was doing and stood up. "Are you serious? This is a prank call? You know I have your number on this phone. I can easily file a harassment charge on you for bugging me." He went back to the arm yet he stayed on the phone with the guy.

"Oh man... Please don't do that!" Malcolm wasn't sure whether the guy was being sarcastic or not. "Please man. It was just a joke! I'm just a little drunk."

"Too bad I can't be there to drink with ya." Malcolm snapped and got halfway through. "I haven't had a drink since..." He finished up sawing and put the loose arm on top of Harold's shoulder. He looked at his watch. "Since like an hour ago." Technically this is true.

"If I bought you a beer would you forget this mess?"

Malcolm laughed and shut the closet door. There was some resistance but he was able to push it until the door clicked. "You MUST be drunk if you are inviting a complete stranger over."

"I am dude." The man giggled. "I'm just chilling with my roommates. They're in the living room."

"Oh yeah? Where are you then?" Malcolm noticed some congealed blood had flaked onto the floor just below the closet. "Awe fuck!"

"What man?"

"Not you. Listen," He walked back into the kitchen and this time looked in the cupboard below the sink for some foam carpet cleaner. "You want a kitten or not?"

"Um... I'd have to ask my roommates." Malcolm could hear the guy's footsteps. He must be walking on a hardwood floor. He then heard voices in the background, although he couldn't make out what they were talking about he did hear some boos.

"Sorry man. No deal."

Malcolm found what he was looking for. "What about the drink thing? I could really go for a drink." Even if he didn't kill the fucker he could still have some fun with him tonight. He hasn't played creepy stalker in a while now.

"Um..." He talked to whomever was in the room with him again. "Yeah man. Come on over."

"Cool." Malcolm walked back over to the stain below the hallway closet door and sprayed the carpet cleanser on it. "Just text me your address. I'll be over as soon as I am done with this."

Malcolm drove up to the back yard of a single story manila colored house and parked on the side of the road. He got out and as he was walking around to the front yard he pressed the button on his keys, causing his car's locks to turn on. With a beep he was satisfied. He got to the front door and pressed the buzzer. Nothing happened for the next minute so he pressed it again.

A tall blond guy with an under bite wearing nothing but blue plaid boxers answered the door. He was holding a half drunk bottle of Jack Daniels. "Hey man! You must be Malcolm!" He made a motion to hug him but Malcolm stepped away.

He extended his hand toward the bottle and wiggled his fingers. "Bill. You promised me I was going to get drunk tonight." Bill handed him the bottle and smiled. Malcolm took an inhumanly large gulp of the forty proof liquor and winced. It burned beautifully going down.

"So, come in!" Malcolm did as he was told, taking another drink as he did so. Once inside he could see the only light was the blue glow of the television. Another man (who was fully clothed) was passed out on the right side of the couch. Malcolm allowed himself a seat in the middle. He looked up and waited for the half naked man to either sit down or go get him his own drink. Bill just stood there and wobbled.

"Are you going to sit down or do I have to hold you?" Malcolm asked, disgusted.

"I'm going to..." Bill walked slowly over to the couch and sat beside Malcolm. "Man that's a gay thing to say!" Malcolm took yet another swig and placed the bottle on the wooden coffee table before him. The man reached for it.

"No." Malcolm said, slapping Bill's hand away. "You are drunk enough as it is."

"No I'm not!" The guy half laughed and half shouted.

The man on Malcolm's right shifted and leaned over on him. Malcolm pushed him back to the right and the man nearly fell out of his seat.

"Shut the fuck up!" A booming voice shouted from the room across the living area. Malcolm was starting to get homicidal but controlled himself. If he could get the loud man into his car he could drive him somewhere and dispose of the body that way. Although if the guy in the other room were to come out then he'd have some trouble, he wasn't too intent on killing two people but he would if he had to. He could always make it look like a break in or something.

The bedroom door handle turned. The person who came out struck Malcolm straight through the heart. Even through the blue light of the room he could see that this man was handsome, this threw a monkey wrench into things.

"Bill! Please! I'm trying to read a book!" Josh told him groggily.

Malcolm noticed that his light was off. "You read in the dark?" He asked. The guy's soft European features were prominent and striking. The eyes looked like a light color but Malcolm couldn't tell for sure what the color was in the light provided.

Josh for a second looked like he had just been asked to solve a trigonometry equation without a calculator. "I just... I WAS reading. Now I'm about to go to sleep."

Malcolm got up and lifted Mr. Passed Out from the couch and let him go on the hardwood floor. He hit with a loud thud and let out a grunt. Bill and Josh watched in horror as his roommate had been man handled. The guy merely said something about how he'd do it tomorrow and rolled over onto his stomach. Josh laughed.

"At least he's not going to choke on his own vomit!" Josh said. Malcolm was delighted to see that his little stunt had amused him. He patted on the right seat cushion beside him, signally Josh to sit down with him. Bill grabbed the bottle and took a long drink from it. Malcolm grabbed the Jack Daniels and slammed it back onto the coffee table. Bill looked over at him and gave his best shit eating grin as if to say "I showed you fucker!"

"So how do you know Bill and Garrick?" Josh asked as he took a seat next to the tall thin man who most likely caused a few bruises on his roommate Garrick. Upon closer inspection Malcolm could see that Josh's hair was short and blue. It tickled him.

"Bill here prank called me." Malcolm motioned to the wobbling man beside him. "And I told him that either he gives me a drink or I report him."

"Yeah. Bill's a fuck tard like that." Josh said.

"Fuck you!" Bill reached for the bottle again but this time Malcolm grabbed his wrist and held on hard. "Man!" The man cried. "You're hurting me!" Josh looked on at what was happening and wasn't sure where it was going.

"Dude. Just let him drink. He'll pass out and pay for it tomorrow." Josh reached for Malcolm's arm. His touch felt good.

Malcolm let go. "OK." He smiled at Josh. Bill took the bottle and cradled it in his arms.

"Daddy's never going to leave you again!" He cooed.

Josh wanted a drink but he thought better of it. Malcolm had more balls so he reached for the Jack Daniels bottle and took it from Bill, who frowned and let out a small mock sniffle. Malcolm took almost three shots worth of the shit before wiping his mouth and handing back the bottle to Bill.

"You're debt still hasn't been paid off yet." Even to Bill, Malcolm's breath wreaked of alcohol and what smelled like metal shavings. "You get one more minute with that bottle before it's mine."

Bill took this as a challenged and tried to drink it all in quick succession. He failed and a fifth through the half empty bottle he spurt out the alcohol from his mouth and nearly dropped the container and spilt it all over the coffee table. Malcolm was quick though and prevented this from happening.

"Goddamn!" Bill burped and covered his mouth with his right hand. "Oh God!" He got up and ran across the living room to the bathroom. He slammed the door and both Josh and Malcolm could hear him puking on the other side.

"Great company you keep." Malcolm said sarcastically as he took another long shot.

"I wish I could move." Josh quipped, his hand reaching for the bottle. Malcolm hesitated for a moment. Something about the gorgeous boy smelled wrong, it certainly wasn't alcohol, more like poppy seed bagels. He could of just been eating those, but the stench was too strong. He would have to have eaten fifty of them to have wreaked like this. When he looked into blue haired guy's eyes he saw the problem. They were pinned smaller than an atom. He's taken down junkies before and it just made him physically ache in his stomach to think that this dude was one of them. He so far liked him so he let him down easy.

"Between you and me, addicts shouldn't drink." Malcolm made the best of a bad situation and winked at his new (hopefully) friend. Josh was stopped cold.

"I don't do drugs man."

Malcolm smiled. "You're breathing could get dangerously shallow. I'm not letting my new buddy die of asphyxiation."

Even through the dim light, Malcolm could see Josh blush. It contrasted greatly with his hair. Malcolm took another long gulp, by this time the bottle was nearing completion.

Josh tried to change the subject. "How can you drink so much?"

Malcolm placed the bottle on the coffee table and looked back toward Josh. "Did you know that people with light colored eyes can pack it away more than their darker counterparts?"

"No shit." Josh sat back.

"It's true! It has something to do with the melanin or something." Malcolm stopped and thought for a second. "I think?" They both sat in awkward silence until Bill heaved again and made a loud splashing sound.

"Awe fuck all!" Bill shouted. "Josh, Garrick, New Guy? Get me a towel!"

Josh got up and walked over to the bathroom door. "You're in the fucking bathroom guy," he said, knocking on the door. "there are towels all around you, you stupid drunk!"

Malcolm winced, here was an addict calling someone a drunk. The hypocrisy especially irked him. "So what do you do for a living?" He asked.

Josh walked back over to the couch and sat down. He reached for the remote on the table and switched it to Seinfeld on channel thirteen. "I'm a barista." He said sadly.

"Sweet." Malcolm took the last swig of the Jack and threw it to the floor. Josh looked over to see where it had landed but couldn't make it out in the darkness of the living room. "I'm a graphic designer." Should he tell the rest of it to him? Yes. Yes he should. "And a professional lady killer."

Josh smiled. "Just how many ladies have you killed?"

"I lost track after fifty to be honest." It was Malcolm's turn to grin now. "I can't tell you how many male's I've slaughtered."

"Must be hard work, would you ever kill me?" Josh stretched and for a moment Malcolm got excited that he may wrap his arm around him, this was quickly dashed when they went back to his side.

Malcolm sighed. "Nah, but I'd kill your roommate in a heartbeat!"

"Yeah. I hate both of them."

Malcolm thought for a moment and smiled. "You know." He said. "I have a room that needs filling at my place. Would you ever consider a dork like me for a roommate?"

Josh looked like he'd just gotten punched in the stomach. His frown went almost to the bottom of his jaw. "I'm pretty complacent right now."

"Oh..." Malcolm wondered what could be done about this. He came up empty. Malcolm pondered out loud. "So no go?"

"I wish man." It was just a small idea, but Malcolm already had the seed of what he was going to do. It involved their drinking habits to boot. But he couldn't do it tonight, that would be too obvious.

"Can somebody help me out of here..." Bill slurred from the other side of the bathroom door. This annoyed both men and they got up to go get the inebriated man off of the floor. Josh accidently stepped on Garrick's arm but all he did was mutter something about stock prices not being enough for him to buy a burrito right now. Josh only wished he was THAT drunk.

Malcolm tried to turn the knob but it was locked. When had he locked it? "Dude." He knocked on the door. "You gotta unlock this door if you want help."

No answer.

"Man, get up and open the door!" Josh shouted. He began pounding on the door. The world almost seemed to be going in slow motion as the alcohol started to hit Malcolm, he hoped that he wasn't soon going to be like that sad soul in there. "Get up or we'll break the door down!"

Malcolm frowned. "Won't that effect your security deposit?"

"Well..." Josh paused. "If he lies on his back and throws up we're all fucked."

"No big loss." Malcolm said, staring at the door.

"It's a big loss to me man, I don't need no cops around here." Josh began pounding on the door again. After almost a minute they heard the lock click from the other side. Bill came out of the door crawling, his underwear missing. Malcolm admired his ass for a few seconds before he noticed that he was trailing a line of vomit out of his mouth. They both stepped back and Bill passed out on the floor below them.

"Is this normal?" Malcolm asked.

"Yup."

"Makes you sort of glad you aren't one of these guys I bet."

Josh looked away. "Whatever." Malcolm immediately felt bad.

"What did I say?"

Josh sighed. "Nothing. Listen man, I really was gonna go to sleep. But we should exchange numbers, you know, to hang out sometime."

Bill moaned on the ground. Malcolm gave him a soft kick to the side and responded. "Sure. I'd love that."
Chapter 5: Free Kittens!

For something being free, Malcolm was having a hard time getting rid of the little bastards, minus Fido of course. If the land lord found that he was hoarding felines without making five separate deposits he'd freak. So far Harold's ad had attracted six people, two of them told him straight up that the kittens would fed to a snake and the other four just seemed like they would be unfit parents. Despite his animosity toward the cats, he was growing fond of them and just wanted the best.

He wasn't a total monster after all.

It had been a week since Josh had gotten his number but he had yet to call him. Malcolm had watched him sleep a few nights back but the most exciting that got was when Josh would talk in his sleep. Malcolm at first thought he had awoken but soon realized that he was still in slumber land. He had some fun chatting with the unconscious man but that too grew tiresome. Leaving through the unlocked front door he saw that Bill and Garrick had passed out on the couch again. Malcolm maneuvered Bill's hand over onto Garrick's crotch and smiled.

Malcolm had disposed of Harold's body a day before that but his aroma still lingered. He'd had to explain to the prospective kitty owners that they went on vacation and the neighbor hadn't fed the hamster. When they got back it was dead and stinking up the place. He was going to say that it was a dog but the last thing he needed was animal control on his ass. After all, who cares about a fucking hamster?

He held onto Fido and made baby noises to him, he was having none of it and wanted to be let down. Fido was able to enjoy this privilege while the others were confined to the box. Thoughts of Josh ran through his mind, he was obsessed with the boy. He had long thought about what to do to get him within his grasp. He seemed to have enjoyed his company. Right? He was a little effeminate when they met.

Malcolm thought of Josh's body when he slept. He curled into the fetal position and hugged his pillow. It was the cutest thing, it made Malcolm want to hold him in his arms and cradle the poor boy.

He had to do something about his drug problem, but what? He knew from experience that killing just one dealer or just one addict did not do the trick. They were like cockroaches underneath a refrigerator. When one comes out in the light, you kill it. But when you turn the lights off a hundred come out and you are overwhelmed and have to call the exterminator.

Which reminded him, he needed to call Terminex about the spider problem they were having, not for him, but for Fido's sake and whomever would be his new roommate.

Josh?

That would be awesome. He could see him sleep in his boxers every night. Holding his pillow and talking aloud while he slumbered. They would be best friends and maybe he'd even get him drunk and high on occasion. But not the kind of high he had going on a daily basis. That had to stop.

He thought about his two drunk roommates. Something had to be done about them. It's not a good environment for him to live in. One roommate gone missing wouldn't do anything. They'd just split the difference until they found a new one.

No.

He had to take care of both of them.

What if he had a girlfriend?

Depending on how she treated him. She would have to go too.

Just call me the exterminator, Malcolm thought with a grin.

Even though the kitten had wanted to be put down, when he let go of it it had not left his feet since. It would meow, he would look down, he would then fall onto his side on his foot and start rolling over while purring loudly. This brought a smile to Malcolm's face and he bent over to give it a little belly rub. Upon placing his hand on the black underbelly of the kitten it moved in for an attack and ensnared him in his claws, kicking up his palm with its back hind legs. It did not hurt though, one good thing about being who he was, was that he was pretty much immune to pain. He was damn near invincible for that matter.

The whole stake through the heart bit? Bullshit.

The whole sun burning him to a blackened oil cooked French fry? A fucking joke.

Holy water? Even if he wasn't an atheist he would of laughed in the preacher's face before shoving his bible up his colon. To Malcolm's knowledge there was no way to kill him. This depressed him because he's lived so much life and seen so many people he loved and care about fall into the wind, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.

The only thing that bothered him enough to avoid was fire. Could he die that way? He'd never heard anything from other vampires about it but it seemed plausible. Like that time he started that fire in Chicago to get back at a girl for cheating on him he had found the dancing flames to be entrancing. Him believing that he was invulnerable he put his hand in it. It hurt like a bitch and the blackness didn't go away for weeks after that.

Malcolm left the kitten where it was and walked into the bathroom. He went to the cabinet under the sink and got out some air freshener. He went back out into the hall and over to the closet, where he opened the door and sprayed at least half a can into the small space. Even with it he could still smell Harold's musk mixed with decaying flesh. Why did he have to have such sensitive smelling? It made eating high end cheese a real bitch.

The phone in his pocket began to vibrate. This annoyed him and he took it out to see who could be bothering him at eleven o'clock at night. The number was unfamiliar and he hesitated before hitting send. He put it to his ear and said "Hello?"

"Hey man!" Josh's voice was slurring a bit, still heavenly none the less though. "I was wondering if you like shows?"

"Shows..." Malcolm sighed. "What kind of shows? Movie shows, music shows, live theater shows? Give me a little more to go on." Malcolm emptied the rest of the air freshener into the closet.

"Music shows." Josh laughed. "I was wondering if you've ever heard of The Thermals?"

Malcolm had, but he decided to play coy. "No. But they sound interesting."

"Well, they are playing the Hi Dive in two days. I just found out about it today and... Well... I sort of need a ride."

"A ride you say?" Malcolm smiled.

"Yeah, I plan on staying out late, and well, you seem sort of cool. Not many people can throw Garrick around like you did."

Malcolm walked into the living room and sat down on his futon. Fido promptly followed.

"I'll have to see what I'm doing. Where is the Hi Dive?" Malcolm lied again.

"Ellsworth and Broadway. Listen, I really want to go."

Fido jumped into Malcolm's lap and he began absently scratching behind its ear. "Can't you take a bus or something?" He was playing hard to get.

"The busses don't run after two am. My girlfriend doesn't want to go and..."

Malcolm sat up, Fido ran off of him and into the kitchen. "You have a girlfriend!?" He was apt to smack the hoe right then.

"Yeah, anyways. She doesn't want to go and I don't trust any of my roommates with driving. You've seen them. They are going to die of liver failure by the time they're thirty."

Malcolm sat back into his seat and with his free hand rubbed his eyes. This was just perfect.

"Well if I take you then you got to promise me no bitches."

"What if she wants to go?"

"Well..." Malcolm thought for a second. "You just said she didn't want to go, and... I sort of just want to hang out with you. I really don't have any friends. It seems like everyone I meet have a problem with living."

There was a pause on the other line. "What do you mean by that?"

Malcolm caught himself and tried to do damage control. "I mean, they are just bad at living. You know, taking care of themselves and all."

"Oh." Josh laughed. "Sort of like Bill and Garrick!"

Malcolm faked a giggle to accompany Josh's enthusiasm. "Yeah, like them."

"So... Do you want to go?"

"As I said I'd have to check." It was a done deal however. "Is this the number I can call you on?"

"Yeah. Name's Josh Hartman."

This time Malcolm genuinely smiled. "You mean like Josh Hartnet?"

"I could kill you for saying that."

"Well, let me see. I'll call you tomorrow morning OK?"

Josh hesitated. "Call me in the afternoon. I gotta open up The Jumping Bean. Do you like coffee?"

"Indeed I do. However I do not do mornings." Malcolm got up and went to the kitchen to feed the kittens. He went for the cabinet over the stove and took out a bag of kitten food. There was a bowl already in the box so all he had to do was fill it. After he did so he noticed that their water bowl was empty. He remedied the situation with haste, then went out into the hallway to find Fido. Little sucker must be famished.

"Well, if you are ever around one morning downtown, I'll get you a free latte."

Fido was sniffing around the hallway closet, Malcolm picked him up and walked him to the kitchen where he added him to the box of young felines.

"I will most certainly do that." Malcolm watched the cats eat and drink, as if in a trance.

"That would be cool."

"Hey man." Malcolm said. "Would you like a free kitten?"
Chapter 6: The Thermals have records out on Sub Pop. That makes them cool and you for superficial reasons that even hipsters can't explain!

Josh was ready to go except for one thing, he hadn't had his nightly shot yet. He wondered if it would be enough to get him through the evening, but he had to try at least. Josh didn't like bringing his works with him when he didn't have to. Although he brought them to work on a regular basis, there was just something about doing it in a club that made him feel like a stupid little junkie.

He looked out from his room and saw Bill sitting at the couch, a bottle mysterious absent from the table. This could be bad if he made any noise or if he smelled anything unusual while cooking up. It was not a negotiation though, he had to have his fix, otherwise he would go through withdrawal during the show and solidify to Malcolm that he was indeed an addict.

Josh gently closed his door and locked it. Bill had not noticed so, so far so good. He went though his routine and got the stuff ready to shoot when he heard a knock at his door. Josh froze, belt wrapped around his arm and needle in hand. The door handle tried to turn but was suppressed by the lock.

"Yeah, what?" Josh yelled.

"I was just wondering why you locked your door." Bill said through the one and a half inches of wooden partition.

Josh had to respond quickly. "Because I'm naked and you always just open my door without knocking first, you damn drunk!"

"Damn drunk?" Bill laughed. "I don't have a problem dude. Seriously though, what are you doing in there?"

Josh found a vein and stuck the needle in. "I don't barge in on you while you are dressing or fucking now do I?"

"Well, you are not fucking in there. It's just odd is all."

I'll fuck your ass and rip you open, Josh thought. He drew blood into the syringe and pressed down. He left the needle in and counted back from five. On the third count it hit him like a rampaging alcoholic beating his wife. His body went limp and his eyesight became distorted. This was some good shit, maybe too good?

"I could be jacking off in here dude." Josh slurred.

"Why are you talking like that?" Bill asked with concern.

Josh took out the needle and drew some water up, then squirting it at his door in protest. "You're not the only one who likes to drink." He wrapped his stuff up and put it back into the ventilation opening. He was screwing it back in when Bill knocked again. "WHAT!?"

Bill did not respond for almost six seconds. "Jeesh man! I'm just curious is all!"

"Tell you what," Josh countered. "I'll come in while you are in the shower and suck your cock."

"Fucking fagot." And with that Josh no longer had a six foot blond haired drunk at his door. He sat back and lay on his mattress, enjoying the nod. There was a good hour or so before Malcolm would pick him up. He decided to use what strength he had in him to set his alarm clock for forty minutes ahead. This way he could nap the worst of the drug away and be left with a nice warm feeling when he woke up.

He had not even closed his eyes when he heard another knock at his door. "What the fuck man! Leave me alone!" Josh shouted.

"Dude," The familiar voice exclaimed. "It's me! Malcolm!"

Malcolm? It wasn't seven o'clock yet! "Um... You're early!" Josh shouted, but got up to answer his door anyways. When he opened it he saw the tall thin man in front of him holding what looked like a Dominos pizza box.

Malcolm smiled warmly. "I just thought we could eat something before we left." This caught Josh off guard. He was a particularly gruff person but there were a few times he could recall being touched. This was one of those times. His defenses were completely shot and he waved Malcolm into his room and turned on the light.

Only his girlfriend gave him gifts, although she usually told him beforehand so this felt a little more special than he was used to.

Malcolm sat down on the mattress and bounced a little where he was, as if testing the bed on the floor for jumpiness. It was apparently to his liking and he patted at the bed for Josh to sit down. He placed the pizza box on the floor.

"I didn't know what you would like so I just got pepperoni." Malcolm said enthusiastically. Josh sat beside him and opened the box. The aroma hit him immediately and he couldn't remember any time in recent memory when he was this hungry. He noticed there were two slices missing.

"Did you already eat some of it?" Josh asked.

"Nah..." Malcolm said as he picked out a piece of pizza. "I just gave your roommates some."

"Bad idea..." Josh countered, picking up the slice with the most meat on it. "Now they will follow you home and expect to be fed daily."

Malcolm laughed, as did Josh. "You're a funny guy. I'm going to kill you last." Malcolm said facetiously. Josh giggled.

Josh felt a nod come on but fought against it. As far as he knew, Malcolm only saw him as a recreational user. He wished he had some coke to have shot with his heroin.

"This was super cool of you man." Josh gushed. "Do you want me to pay for half or something?"

"This is my treat." Malcolm said. "As is tonight. You're my new buddy!" He smiled and continued eating his pizza slice. By the time they were finished, only three slices remained. They were stuffed. However Josh's blood sure did smell good to Malcolm. He fought against it but he was falling in love with the smell of poppy seed bagels, even though he knew that it was something totally different. The man was beautiful, and he was a fucking junky. If he could get closer to him then maybe he could change that.

Although there is a girlfriend to consider, the thought made Malcolm's cold, congealed blood boil. There had to be something he could do to have him all to himself.

He remembered Melisa. She was a tall attractive blond who went to Denver Metro University. This had to have been about twenty years ago. She was a physics major and that turned Malcolm on to all extremes. The sex was great as well. They were to be engaged until her old boyfriend came back into the picture. Malcolm was crushed, there he was, tall, good looking, with a respectable career, and she fucking dumped him like a much needed shit! He forever changed his mind about what it was to be who he was. Just because you are tall, thin, somewhat attractive, in the end it all winds up on the other person's table. Malcolm felt low and had no self esteem for some time after that. He wasn't apt to kill someone just because they cheated on him. But he loved her damn it!

He devised a plan to get him out of the picture. He would follow him up to the mountains with his friends for a hiking trip and feed off of their blood like a fat kid in a candy shop. Afterwards he tried to get back with her but it was no use, having a loved one disappear in the Rockies did things to a woman. Malcolm tried to console her, even got her in bed another time. But it was just too much of a lost cause. She committed suicide later that year by putting a gun to her mouth. Malcolm was crushed, which wasn't an easy accomplishment to do.

Malcolm worried about Josh's mental state if he killed his roommates in order to acquire him for himself. He seemed mentally stable? Right? He was sure that he wouldn't think twice and would be more concerned about his living situation than anything else he assumed. At least that is what he'd feel like if it were to happen, although he felt nothing for Harold or his other roommates in the past it was still an attractive idea. But it was still something he had to consider. Did this man have feelings? He didn't even know how old he was.

"How old are you?" Malcolm asked, his mouth half full with pepperoni pizza.

"Twenty four and a half." Josh sighed. "I'm old. I haven't done shit with my life."

Malcolm agreed but said nothing. He wasn't about to upset his new friend. "How about a drink? Your roommates owe me after all the niceness I brought forth on them." He laughed but Josh looked sullen.

"I don't drink." He said. Malcolm took this as a challenge.

"But we're going to a show! And you apparently do everything else, why don't you drink?" Malcolm knew the answer though. Alcohol is a depressant. It works on the brain stem similar to how opiates do. Once inside you it slows breathing down and fucks with involuntary functions like heart beat and metabolism. By the look of Josh's eyes, he could tell that he was already pretty far gone in the inebriation department. He ignored this though, he was as capable of keeping a man alive as he was ripping their heads off. "I think a few shots would do you good." He smiled, but it was not returned by Josh.

Josh could be fun if his judgment were to be disposed of. A warm passed out body was still a warm body. His mouth watered at the thought.

"I just don't like how I feel when I get drunk." Josh confided.

"Well, you better start if you are going to hang out with me!" Malcolm put his half eaten slice back into the pizza box and headed out the door into the living room. Once inside he found Garrick passed out on the couch. He wondered where Bill could be but decided not to split hairs. He pushed him until he was awake and asked him if he could take a few swigs from the gigantic bottle of vodka on the table.

"Sure man..." Garrick said sleepily before he passed out again. The bottle was half full, and Malcolm wanted to get drunk so he took the privilege as a holy offering and took five long gulps of the alcoholic beverage. He finished and looked back into the room, where Josh was staring in disbelief. Malcolm motioned for Josh to come over and like a man stuck in a tractor beam he followed the hand signals. Josh hesitantly looked at the bottle but Malcolm gave him the thumbs up. He took a long drink. It hurt his throat badly even through all of the pain killers. It was the first time in over a year that he had drank anything alcoholic.

"Not so bad is it?" Malcolm laughed. Josh winced. "Better than the shit you do. You really need help on that by the way."

Josh frowned. "When I want your opinion I'd beat it out of you."

Malcolm giggled. "I'm six foot three man! I could take you!" If he only knew the truth, he thought.

"But I'm five foot ten of pure muscle! I may be shorter than you but I do my pushups every morning!" Josh lightly punched Malcolm in the arm and grinned. The guy looked like he weighed no more than a buck twenty, and there was no evidence of any sort of work out that he said he did daily. If anything his arm muscles would fall down under his bone like they did in old cartoons when weaker ones tried to exaggerate their strength.

Malcolm scowled mockingly. "Trust me. I could kick your ass."

Josh smiled. "Well hopefully it won't come to that so early in the friendship."

"A good love tap here and there can be life affirming I think."

Josh was silent for a moment. "Don't be gay man."

It was like a dagger through Malcolm's un-beating heart. "Sorry man." He took the bottle back from Josh and finished it off. "It wasn't meant like that." Within five minutes of awkward silence he began to feel the effects of the alcohol. He just hoped that he wouldn't get drunk and depressed. Bad things happened when he got drunk and depressed.

Malcolm found a parking spot not even two blocks from the Hi Dive, a personal best especially seeing as it was so late in the evening and there was a sold out show in the area. Malcolm liked being around tons of people. It brought him so many opportunities. Josh on the other hand looked a little uncomfortable when he saw the line coming out of the bar / venue.

"Maybe this wasn't such a good idea." Josh said. He stopped walking mid stride and looked up at Malcolm, who was confused.

"You already have the tickets. Come on!" Malcolm tried to reassure. "We'll have an awesome time!"

"I just think that these people will know I'm high or something."

"That's why we need to get you drunk!" Not too drunk, Malcolm thought.

Josh stood for almost a minute without saying a word. Finally he shrugged and went first across the street and over to the line of hipsters coming out of the door to smoke a cigarette. Malcolm followed and stayed behind Josh, as if he were a shield that he didn't need. Insecurity has always been a major turn off for Malcolm but for some reason this endeared Josh more to him. It was almost like it was his duty tonight to keep him safe from emotional and physical harm.

Josh handed him his ticket and after a long five minutes of waiting in line, they were let in by the door guy. Malcolm had not prepared to see the place so packed. He was having trouble maneuvering himself over to the bar. He wanted to hold Josh's hand and guide him over with him but he decided against it. Josh was seemingly able to find his way around so he thought better of smothering him with attention so early in the night.

Malcolm waved at one of the two bartenders on duty. One was a black haired guy who looked like he was a character in a Japanese animation movie and the other was Tara. He waited until she passed him to poke her in the shoulder. She turned around, unaware at who just touched her, and saw that it was her biggest fan. She smiled.

"Hey there!" She leaned as far as she could over the bar to hug Malcolm, who was able to meet her three fourths of the way, making it easier for both of them to embrace. They were holding each other for a good two seconds before parting. "What are you having tonight sweetie?"

Malcolm rubbed his chin with his right hand in mock thoughtfulness. "How about two shots of Bacardi 151."

"It's too packed for me to set them on fire. I'd be liable to burn somebody." She laughed and it pierced Malcolm's heart like an adrenaline needle. He smiled.

"That's cool. It's for me and a friend."

"Really?" She said, going over five steps toward the top shelf liquor. She took it off and grabbed two shot glasses from under the bar. "Who's the special someone?"

"Oh, it's not like that really. It's truly just a friend."

She poured the shots. "Anyone I know?"

"He's that blue haired kid named Josh over by the stage."

Tara looked uneasy and took back one of the shot glasses. "I don't think I really want him drinking."

Malcolm felt cold spread through his extremities. "Why not?"

"I think he might be a junky. He's always spending time in the bathroom and I just heard from a few people that he may be using."

"Well, I've been with him all day and I can assure you that he's not an addict in anyway." Malcolm lied. "I think he spends so much time in the bathroom is because he has bladder problems from when he had kidney failure." He pulled out a ten dollar bill and placed it in front of her.

"Are you sure?" Tara's demeanor went from protective to sympathetic. "Poor guy! Are you sure he can have liquor with a kidney and bladder problem?"

"Of course!" Malcolm reached over and took the shot from her hand, then he got the one from the bar. "It's a bladder problem, not a liver problem. Sheesh Tara!" He winked at her and left the bar. Malcolm raised the glasses over his head so he wouldn't accidently bump into somebody and spill them everywhere, causing undue stress for both him and the party that would have Bacardi all over their designer button up shirt.

When Malcolm caught up with Josh he gave him his glass and toasted. "To The Thermals!" He exclaimed and downed the shot in a single gulp. Josh looked like he was staring at a pretty flame. "Aren't you going to drink it man?"

"Dude, I really don't drink!" Josh tried to hand back his shot but Malcolm was having none of it.

"I paid for it fucker. Drink the damn thing!"

Josh looked up at him hesitantly and downed the alcohol. It made his throat close up a little and the stink of it nearly caused him to vomit in his mouth. He began to cough and almost doubled over. Malcolm laughed and patted him on the back.

"Good boy!" Malcolm exclaimed. "Now for something to sip on."

As Malcolm was leaving Josh, still holding his stomach, put his hand on Malcolm's leg and protested. "Man, please, I don't drink!"

"You just did!" Malcolm smiled. "And you are going to do a lot more of it if you want a ride home tonight!"

Josh let go of Malcolm and tried to get his composure back. He was not used to one hundred and fifty one proof alcohol going down his virginal throat. Even after he was able to stand the burn was intense. Not even two minutes after he was able to swallow again did Malcolm come back and hand him a glass of what looked like chocolate milk.

"It's a white Russian!" Malcolm took a sip of his through a tiny red stir straw. "You'd be lying if you told me that you could really taste the alcohol in this!"

Josh took a drink and his face puckered, he had to set the beverage onto the elevated stage in front of him. "I've had them before, but you can most certainly taste it! Damn this is strong! What are you doing, fucking the bartender?!"

Malcolm looked back over toward the bar and then down to Josh. "Nah, she's just a good friend. Wouldn't mind fucking her though. Not that I haven't tried." He laughed and was happy to see Josh smiling along with him.

Josh ran his fingers through his bright blue hair. This prompted a question from Malcolm. "What's your natural hair color?"

Josh seemed more at ease with imbibing this drink than the last one. "Blond." He told him. "It's cool because I don't have to bleach my hair to dye it."

"I've been thinking about bleaching my hair and dying it something like purple."

"You have really cool hair. Black suits you. It fits your pale complexion."

"Thanks."

"Do you mind me asking, do you ever go out into the sun? You're really, really white." Malcolm took this personal question as a sign that Josh was starting to become intoxicated. He liked this and answered in the most un-condescending way he could possibly think of.

"I just work from home. I have an active night life so my schedule is pretty eschewed as it is. No big deal though. Some people are just night people." Malcolm too could feel the alcohol getting the best of him, not that it would be a problem. He was a champion drinker. Malcolm hoped that Josh would get drunk enough to hug him throughout the night and be a happy drunk. Josh took his drink from the stage and continued to take large sips until it was nothing but glass and ice. Malcolm promptly got him another one.

And another one.

And another one.

By the sixth drink of the night Josh couldn't express enough how much he loved the FUCKING Thermals. Hugs most definitely ensued.

By the time the show was over Josh could barely walk straight. He kept saying he forgot how much fun it was to be drunk. It was cute the first time but the guy kept trying to get Tara to give him more, which she refused on the grounds that Malcolm told her he was drunk enough. Luckily Josh took this in stride and happily waved goodbye to the female bartender.

Malcolm was supporting Josh on his side and guided him to his car a few blocks away. Josh kept asking about whether or not cars had souls. This amused Malcolm and he made a mental note to get him drunk more often.

Once they were at the car Malcolm led Josh over to the passenger side and opened his door. Josh didn't so much sit down as he did fell. Malcolm straightened him out and put his seat belt on for him. His new friend was leaning to the side and had finally become quiet. Malcolm stood back and looked at the boy. He was definitely handsome. No wonder he had a girlfriend. He wondered if she was good enough for him.

Was she as good in bed as he could be?

It took everything Malcolm had not to take advantage of the guy in his highly intoxicated state. But the thoughts always led him down the memory path of how he himself became who he was. Malcolm felt the sting of tears in his eyes and violently shut the door. He walked over to his side and went in. When he looked over he saw that Josh had completely passed out.

"Hey man." Malcolm nudged him a little. "You OK?"

"Please..." Josh mumbled. "Water... Food..."

Malcolm smiled. "Anything you want good buddy."

They drove down Lincoln Street and then up Seventh where they again turned on Broadway and pulled into the Burger King. It was an all night drive through sort of deal and it was perfect for two drunken idiots about town. To Malcolm's dismay Josh became unresponsive but he ordered two Whopper meals for him. He had asked for the two drinks to be water and they came in a drink carrier. The female attendant told him that he would get more of his value by getting soda but all Malcolm had to do was point at his friend and she understood.

Now for the bigger question, his place or Josh's? Malcolm was sure that his roommates would be too drunk to notice them barging in at two o'clock in the morning and have no problem with it. However Malcolm wanted to bring him home and let him sleep on his bed while he himself stayed in the living room. He could always use the excuse that he was too drunk to drive all the way out to Colorado Boulevard and was merely thinking of their safety. His pecker won in the end and he headed over to his place on Platte.

Chapter 7: Where did my pants go!?

Josh awoke on a strange bed. He had no idea where he was or how he had gotten there. All that was clear at the moment was that he had one hell of a hangover and that he was still, for all intense and purposes, still pretty drunk. He tried to move but it just caused him pain in his joints, plus an electric shock to his brain.

"GOD!" He shouted, pressing his hands over his eyes in hopes that the pressure would relieve some of the pain. He heard footsteps from outside the brown wooden door and within a second or so Malcolm barged in, wearing nothing but long Sesame Street boxers. He stood at the door and leaned on the frame, his grin showed all of his upper white teeth.

"How're we doing this fine morning?" Malcolm asked.

"OH DEAR GOD! KILL ME!" Josh said, not taking his hands off his eyes. Malcolm left the room for a minute and came back with the bag of stale fast food and a big value meal cup of water.

"Drink and eat these. You'll feel better." Malcolm said as he put the items on the nightstand beside the bed.

When it felt as if some of the pressure had subsided Josh threw off the comforter and reached for the water. After about three seconds of drinking it did he notice that he was only wearing his blue boxer briefs. He felt a wave of horror sweep through him and put the water cup back, then the comforter was hastily pulled back over his nearly naked self.

"What happened to my clothes!?" Josh screamed, looking straight at Malcolm.

"I didn't want you to sweat in your clothes dude." Malcolm said nonchalantly.

"Are you fucking gay or something!?" Josh continued.

Malcolm was taken aback by this prejudiced statement but kept his feelings to himself. "Listen, I'm a guy, you're a guy. You don't have anything that I don't have."

"But..." Josh was stumbling over his words, still very drunk. "What I have is MINE!"

Malcolm scoffed. "If I were gay I would of taken off your underwear and sucked you off while you were unconscious!" Josh thought about this for a second but couldn't think of any reasonable comeback. "Besides, they stunk. They are in the dryer now."

Josh felt a little stupid now. "Um... Thanks man." He could no longer look at Malcolm without feeling a tinge of guilt. He took back the water cup and drank as much as his small stomach would allow. Malcolm stood at the door for a little bit, then sat on his bed with Josh.

"You OK?" Malcolm asked with concern.

"Yeah, I'll be OK. This is why I don't like to drink!" Josh finished off the water and went straight for the stale French fries. Malcolm smiled and wanted nothing more than to pet Josh. He instead opted to pat him on the back.

"You just need to learn how to moderate."

Josh scowled. "You need to learn not to pour liquor down my throat the entire night."

"Yeah..." Malcolm laughed. "I suppose I AM an enabler." He ruffled Josh's blue hair and stood up. "I think things should be ready in about ten minutes. What do you have planned for the day?"

Josh thought for a moment. "I need to do some things."

"May I come?"

"No. I'd prefer to be alone. But I'll be free tonight, although I can't drink tonight because I have to fucking open in the morning."

Malcolm knew what this meant, he was going to get drugs. The thought made his intestines feel knotted and tight. He left the room and went into the kitchen to feed the kittens. No respectable person had showed their face and he was beginning to think that he'd forever be stuck with the five little felines. Thoughts of bringing all but Fido to the shelter was starting to hold water with him. The more he thought about it the more attractive it became. He killed humans, why was it so hard to know that some of these kittens wouldn't make it through the month long wait period before they were euthanized? Were they different than people, who had hopes and dreams and a fully functioning consciousness?

Yes.

Kittens didn't do anything that they didn't want to do. Kittens didn't hate life. Malcolm remembered driving down a back road one night and seeing a white lump on the road, moving sluggishly across it. He pulled over and took out a flash light to investigate. It had been a little white rabbit. Its backside had been smashed by a car and yet it was still trying to get its way off of the road. It didn't know that it was going to die, it just kept on living, trying to reach the other side and live like it had always done. Something about that idea made Malcolm tear up. He admired the will of animals. He broke its neck and made a little makeshift burial spot over on the side of the road where the soil was soft. It made him think about the people he himself killed. They normally just gave in. Why would humans be so easy to give up their most precious gift when a rabbit that's obviously going to be in pain and die anyways still keep going?

Malcolm looked back down into the box of kittens and sighed. Three were sleeping and the other two (Fido included) were trying to climb out of the box. It made him smile. He picked up Fido and held it like a baby, cradled in his arms. He went to the top cupboard above the stove and retrieved the bag of kitten food. He brought it over to the box and first put Fido back in, it resisted by trying to climb up Malcolm's arm. It didn't hurt but it was very cute. He put the bag on the floor so he could grab a hold of him with two hands. He put him back in the box and went back into the cupboards for a clean bowl. He put it in the box and filled it with the kitten food. Then he remembered that they'd probably like a drink as well. Living things had this weird habit of needing water. After he gave them a saucer of it he walked over to his futon and sat down.

Harold had never wanted to pitch in for cable and Malcolm saw no need in it as they had the internet. All he really cared about was the news anyways. This reminded him to check his email so he walked back into his room. To his surprise the door was closed. This meant that Josh had gotten out of bed, a good thing too because Malcolm was a little worried that he totally killed his system last night.

He knocked on the door a few times but got no answer. After the third time he let himself in. Josh was lying down with the covers drawn up over his shoulders and lightly snoring. The food on the nightstand was all but wrappers. He walked over to him and gently caressed his blue hair. Malcolm couldn't help but feel maternal in this moment. He wanted to protect him and keep him from being a danger to himself. Most of all he wanted to hold him. It was a need that he felt so badly that his heart felt like it was being squeezed, his still un-beating heart.

Malcolm decided to let him sleep a little more and grabbed his HP laptop from the top of his dresser. Josh stirred at the small amount of noise he was making by walking into the room.

"It should be done about now." Malcolm got up from where he was kneeling and smiled. "You want a beer?"

"I don't know..." Josh said. "I'm still a little drunk from last night."

"A little hair of the dog never hurt anyone.

Josh considered this. "Maybe just one."

"That's my man!" Malcolm left the room and went into the kitchen for Josh's brew. Along the way he picked up his from by the futon and finished it off. He procured the second can and brought it to Josh, who was lying down again but not asleep. Malcolm walked over to the side of the bed and put the cold beer can on Josh's face, making him jolt up.

"Dude!" He exclaimed. Malcolm just laughed and gave him the beer. Josh took it and cracked it open, making it hiss like a cat in the process. He took a long drink from it and wiped his mouth off with his free hand when he was done. He put it on the nightstand beside him and scratched his pubic area underneath the covers.

Malcolm told him that he was going to go check on his shirt, hoodie, and pants and went into the bathroom and into the little closet inside that held the washer and dryer. It had indeed finished and Malcolm took out the hot brown shirt and the other things. He wondered for a moment if he should fold them but figured they were just going to be put on in a minute anyways.

Malcolm brought the clothes back into the room and threw them on the bed. Josh grunted and first put on his shirt, then his hoodie. Malcolm stood at the doorway and stared at him while he did this, wishing he wasn't so homophobic. With a sigh he left the room as Josh was putting on pants and thought to himself that he should probably get dressed soon too. Parading around in boxers was a little awkward after ten in the morning. He waited for Josh to get ready before he himself getting dressed.

Once he had clothes on he went back into the living room to find Josh on his computer. Malcolm didn't object but he did wish that Josh would of asked first at least. He sat down next to him and peered over to what he was doing. Josh was in his Yahoo email box and checking his messages. Malcolm decided to give him a little privacy and walked back into the kitchen for another beer.

"Hey man!" Malcolm shouted from the kitchen.

"Yeah?" Josh replied.

"You want another beer?"

"Um..." Josh looked up from what he was doing. "I guess so." He went back to his thing while Malcolm got the refreshments. He came back into the living room and threw the beer can to Josh but he didn't see it in time and it hit him in his side before falling onto the futon and rolling to the floor.

"Damn dude!" Josh exclaimed, rubbing his side. Malcolm laughed and Josh grabbed the can from the ground and held it up to Malcolm. "This thing will explode if I open it." Malcolm took the can.

"Good point." Malcolm agreed and got him another one.

Once Josh was done he closed the laptop and put it to his side. Malcolm sat beside him and cracked open his beer, Josh followed suit.

"Do you need a ride home?" Malcolm asked.

"Nah. We're downtown anyways. I need to run some errands."

"Uh huh..." Malcolm took a long drink from his beer and burped. "I bet. You sure you don't need me to run you to your errands?" Malcolm stared at the blank TV screen in disgust.

"I'm sure. I just need to do these things alone. I like me time." Josh took a sip and decided to take another longer gulp. He then chugged the beer until it was gone and gave the can to Malcolm, who took it and brought it back into the kitchen to put in the recycling trash bin. It was nearly full and he needed to bring them down to the grocery store to exchange them for pennies or whatever miniscule amount they'd give him.

Malcolm looked back over at Josh, who was sitting and stretching back on the futon.

Josh left around twelve that afternoon. Before he did so he had another beer with Malcolm and a shot of whiskey. He was going through slight withdrawal so this helped a little. The day was cold and it was cutting through his shirt / hoodie combo. Luckily there was no wind. That's one thing people don't expect about Colorado when they go there, it can get pretty damn windy. Signs routinely fall over from the sheer force of the natural phenomenon.

Josh was at Platte, which meant he had to take 15th down to the city, and then from the city to Civic Center Park, which was just on the outskirts of the 16th Street Mall. He checked his wallet and counted the cash he had from the tips the day before. He had almost forty dollars and figured that this could get him through two or so days.

As he started walking out of the condominium complex he realized that he didn't bring his bag or any of his works. This meant that he'd have to go get the shit and take a thirty minute bus ride down to his place. He wasn't sure if he could wait that long. He supposed he could always go buy a lighter, a coke can (you tear off the bottom part and use it to cook the heroin), and a fresh needle. All in all this wouldn't take too much out of the fund, but it was still a hassle. That and the fact that shooting up downtown is a very dangerous activity, he wasn't in the right frame of mind to do anything incognito. In fact he was a little drunk and did not trust his own judgment.

Officer Daniels was on his break at the downtown Starbucks down on 16th and California. He was a plain clothes officer (meaning he dressed in civilian clothing) and about six foot tall with blond hair and blue eyes, definitely of German descent. The newspaper that morning was a follow up on the crash that killed a young woman from Deer Trail on page four a few days ago and it held his interest longer than any recent article he could remember. The body had been horribly mangled and the car torn apart from the sheer force of the crash. The odd part was that it had crashed nearly half a mile from the highway, how did it get so torn up? The authorities were still looking into that one.

Daniels took a sip from his chai tea late and flipped to the book review section. The new Jeffery Deaver book had just come out and he was hoping for a review of it sometime that week. There was a write up about some sort of mother and daughter tear jerker, yet another book on Facebook, and a memoir about a drug addict gone clean. It reminded Daniels why he was in plain clothes to begin with. He was assigned to get the trust of the local junkies and dealers and go turncoat on them when he was given the go ahead. He had only been working the assignment for about a month and he was getting there. He had decided to grow a beard and change his clothes only twice a week. The facial hair was slow coming for the thirty year old man but it was getting there. The blue jacket that he wore since he started was starting to stain and smell from the sweat he poured out every day. His other clothing suffered the same fate. He did not wash his attire and kept them in a plastic bag when not in use as to preserve the integrity of the dirty clothes.

One thing that he did that no other policeman did in his department was mind his shoes. The difference between an undercover cop and a junkie always has to do with the shoes. Most plain clothes wore either their work shoes or something that cost more than twenty dollars. This was a mistake seeing as any junkie worth his weight can spot this out. No matter how well you've dressed for the part it always came down to the shoes. Daniels had on brown dress shoes that had the leather peeling from all directions. He had gotten them at the Arc Thrift store up east Colfax in Aurora for four dollars and fifty cents, on sale from nine.

It's amazing how the little things can blow your cover. The little things that can get you killed, although the dealers and junkies in this town were very passive and almost never carried weapons, you can never be too careful.

He had finished almost half of his drink when he got a text from his wife asking if she should even bother making him a plate of dinner tonight or was he going to be in the office filling out paper work. It had gotten to the point that the only communication these days have been either through such means or in bed after sex. The sad thing was that they didn't do it very often so it was an unreliable means of dialogue.

In college he had taken Sociology and she was in the bottom row on the far left. He can remember seeing her for the first time like it was yesterday. Samantha (or Sam if you were close) was just striking. Long brown hair pulled up in one of those oriental things that made it look like a ball in the back. Perfect, dark brown eyes that you got lost in if you ever had the chance to experience them, and mild tan skin that was so soft to the touch that you just wanted to embrace her naked for hours.

How did it go so wrong? Oh yeah, he became a police officer, a higher up police officer but still a police officer none the less. Long hours and in the line of fire, it just didn't sit well with their marriage. He had just recently been allocated to the narcotics bureau not even a year ago and he was already going up in the ranks. He had a knack for it. He had put in a request to work the field undercover three times until they finally gave him a shot. So far he's been part of the apprehension of nearly twelve Honduran drug dealers. It would be a success if when every time they caught one of the fuckers, another two didn't show up to take his place.

Daniel's left arm hurt and he rolled up the sleeve of his jacket to make sure the track marks he made that morning weren't becoming infected. Although he used a clean needle to shoot up room temperature water every time, there was always the risk of infection. If you're not careful it could turn into an abscess and grow so big that you couldn't get your arm through the sleeve of your shirt. They were a bitch to drain as well. Because of his past he did not need a doctor to do it, nor was he squeamish when it came to doing it. Since he had started he had only gotten one so far, and that one was intentional. It had left a large purple mark on the underside of Daniel's upper left arm. That coupled with the fresh and healing tract marks he made were sufficient evidence for anyone who doubted his validity.

One thing that was always bothersome was his eyes. They were bright blue and people could always tell if he was sober or not. When you do heroin or other opiates your pupils pin. He told people that he was constantly going through withdrawal and so far it had worked, but people are getting suspicious. He didn't know how much longer he'd last before his cover was blown.

He checked his cheap Criket phone and decided to make a move on. It was the start of the afternoon and he was just getting on. Two to five hours of mingling with the lowest of the low before he went back to the station to document his findings.

Today was going to be a good day, he thought as he drank the rest of his chai.

Today was going to be a good day.

Malcolm thought about trailing Josh but was still in the process of deciding. He had had two more beers since he left and was sitting on his futon watching Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind for the second time that week. It was a great movie. It's the only thing of Jim Carrey's that he gave a flying fuck about.

He wanted to lay down on the rickety old futon but again, like the shower head, he was too tall to accomplish this. Malcolm wished he was a little shorter. Back in the days when he was still human he got endless grief from everybody around him about his height. Nutrition and health wasn't the best back then so people were a little shorter than they are today, three hundred years later. Nowadays it was a virtue to be tall and skinny. How things have changed, he thought.

Life expectancy had also increased dramatically. Going from about forty years of age to nearly eighty, that's a hundred percent increase since then! Not that it matter for him. He was going to be stuck in the body of a twenty one year old forever.

All because he liked a boy.

My how things have changed.

Josh was walking into the park when he saw him. The little Honduran who called himself 'Dave' (an alias) was over by the grey brick wall down in the middle of the park. He must have seen him coming because he went further into the shadows and waited for him. The dealer was looking in all directions to make sure it was safe. Josh hadn't seen any police officers or anyone suspicious so things were looking up.

He wasn't even ten feet from him when Dave looked past him and became defensive. Josh heard his name being called and looked back to see Roger running toward him. He was tall and blond and very ratty looking. Josh wasn't too keen on him but he was good for a connect every now and then. The man came up to him panting and held out his hand for a low high five. Josh reciprocated and looked back to see that the dealer had started walking away from the two. Josh gave Roger a rueful stare and he just shrugged and smiled.

"I got a better one anyways." Roger said, out of breath.

Josh rolled his eyes. "I need it now though. I'm not going to wait almost thirty minutes to go meet a pager guy."

"No, no, no, no!" Roger said. "This one is downtown today. I saw him earlier but I didn't have any money. How much are you buying?"

Josh hesitated. You never told anyone how much you had on you. "A dime..."

Roger stood up and cracked his back. "He only has twenties."

"His stuff any good?"

"The best! You want him?"

Josh thought for a moment and looked back around to see that the dealer had left the park entirely. With a sigh he nodded. Roger smiled and took out his cheap Walmart cell phone. A few buttons was pressed and he was talking to somebody in clipped English, almost like he was trying to sound Spanish.

He closed his phone and grinned. "Come on buddy! He's down by Denver Health!"

Josh groaned. "You asshole!"

"Come on. His stuff is amazing!"

Josh did a three sixty turn around trying to see if there were any other options at his disposal. He saw no one and agreed to walk with Roger down to the park by the hospital.

"It better be." Josh said, putting his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. "Or I'll kick your ass." This time he looked up at Roger and smiled. He returned it and they walked briskly up toward the other park that was fast becoming the new spot to score.

Josh had decided to wait and suffer through the withdrawal until he got home. That guy Roger was pushing fresh points (needles) onto him but he just didn't get a good vibe from that guy at all. He seemed to be a little too excited about doing drugs when Josh felt it was merely a way to make his reality more palatable. It had been almost six years since he had left his father and he was sure as hell very happy about that. The man was an abusive alcoholic when he was younger and his mother (who died of leukemia) was also an alcoholic and an incessant pill popper. Josh could remember the first time he tried out opiates.

I've got to break more bones, he thought at the time. The pain went away within days but the pills lasted a month. He learned early on to hide them from his mother when he got them seeing as once he stopped complaining about the wound or broken whatever she would take them away, presumably for her own use.

Josh thought of the contempt he had for the woman still to this day. Sure there was love thrown in the mix, but there was a lot of anger that he'd never get over.

He stood at his doorway and paused. Josh put his head on the door and punched it hard.

"Just a minute!" Bill yelled from behind the wood.

Josh groaned. "It's just me dude!" He went into his pocket and felt for the key. He never put his balloons in the key pocket because you were more likely to accidently pull them out with the keys and lose them. A harsh lesson he had learned over the course of his addiction.

As Josh opened the door he felt a blast of heat strike him all over. It was unbearable and Bill sat on the couch wearing only his boxers watching TV.

"What the hell!?" Josh asked. "Why is it so damn hot in here!?"

Bill looked at him confused, as if he didn't know what two plus two equaled. "Because it's cold out. Duh!"

"Well I'm shutting the fucking thing off. I'm not going in on a damn two hundred dollar heating bill!" Josh walked over by the entertainment center where the thermostat was on the manila colored wall. He turned it all the way down and shut off the heating switch. For a moment he considered turning on the air conditioning to fuck with Bill but thought better of it.

Bill scowled at him and got up to go to the kitchen. Josh went back by the door and took off his shoes. He had worn argyle socks today just because they were the only things clean that didn't have caked sweat on them. Walking was a big part of his life and he went through socks the way Tucker Max goes through hoes.

The vent by the door was still on and Josh put his covered foot on it to see if the air had gotten cooler. Once it touched down he immediately retracted from the sting of heat. It made him even more angry at Bill.

He just wanted to go to his room, shoot up, and trip on the patterns in the ceiling.

Then it hit him.

"Oh fuck!" Josh ran into his room and went for the screw driver. He undid the screws but the face plate was too hot to take off with his bare hands. He pulled his under sheet from the bed and used it as a shield against the flaming metal. He put it aside and used the same cloth to grab a hold of his brown cloth bag. It was just as hot, if not hotter than the face plate.

He dumped the contents on the ground and spread them apart to cool off. Then he realized that his door was unlocked and remedied that situation. Then he looked at his works and sighed.

He first checked his needle for any damage. It was malleable but the plunger still went up and down, producing air from the tip. Good. Then he checked his spoon, it was hot but it wasn't warped at all. The cotton for some reason felt moist but that wasn't a big deal. He then noticed that the bottle of water had buckled under the heat and the cap had come off. It was a good thing he didn't carry it in the bag but it did explain the Q-Tips. Then came the lighter. He picked it up, it was cooling off but still pretty hot. He clicked the igniter and only saw a spark. Then he did it again, and again, and again to no result.

"Fuck me..." He said softly as he threw it onto his bed. Neither of his roommates smoked so he was out of luck there. He was too sick to go to any sort of convenience store to get another one. In cases like this you could always mix the heroin without heating it. It was something he didn't like to do because it took forever. He picked up the misshapened water bottle to see if there was any more hot liquid inside. There was a little so that meant he wouldn't be totally unaided in his efforts.

He took out one of two of the heroin balloons he wound up buying and opened one. He put the other one in the baggy and set it aside. The spoon was hot so the dope nearly melted onto it, a good thing. He then drew up what little water was left and squirted it into the spoon that lay on the floor, took out the plunger, and began to carefully stir it. It took nearly a minute and a half to get it all down but he did it.

A knock at his door startled him out of his automatic ritual.

"What?" He shouted.

"I'm going to the store. Do you want to come along or anything?" Bill asked.

Josh took off a piece of cotton from the Q-Tip and rolled it into a ball with his fingers. "Did you put some damn clothes on?" He asked as he placed the cotton into the spoon. He put the plunger back into the needle and stuck the tip into the cotton ball.

"Yes." Bill said sarcastically. "No shirt, no shoes, no service, right?"

"That doesn't include pants now does it?" Josh snapped back as he drew up the brown liquid.

Bill laughed. "Dude do you want to go or not?"

Josh thought for a second. He COULD use another lighter but there was another thing to consider as he undid his belt and made a tourniquet around his left arm. "How much have you had to drink tonight Bill?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"Fuck man!" Bill pounded on the door. "I'm a fucking great driver and you know it!"

Josh found a vein and stuck it in. "I think I just want to stay in tonight." He said as he drew back the plunger, but nothing came up.

"Fuck!" Josh whispered aggressively and tried a little bit upward on the exposed vein.

"Fuck you man!" Bill pounded on the door two more times and then Josh could hear the thunk of his bare sweaty feet on the hardwood floor outside his door. He figured it was good riddance and pulled back on the plunger again. This time for a fraction of a second he saw nothing but air come up, but then as quickly as the disappointment set in, blood filled the syringe and mixed with the heroin. He depressed it and held the needle in the vein until he felt it.

The rush came two seconds later and nearly dropped him to his side. He knew what this meant. He possibly had overdosed. He was flashing in and out of consciousness. When he was awake for the few seconds that he wasn't in a narcotic oblivion he put his works back in the bag and put them between his mattresses. He had little time and figured that the blood would dry up in the needle if he didn't do anything about it. But when he looked at the clock it said that it was six-o' seven. Then he blinked. Or thought he blinked. Then the clock said six sixteen. Fuck! He didn't have time to clean the needle or put the face plate back.

He tried to stand but was too wobbly, he immediately fell down to his knees because he was so dizzy. It made a loud thud and his head shot up and toward the door. If any of his roommates were still there they'd surely come to investigate. He waited in between blinks but heard nothing.

Josh fell to his side on the hardwood floor and tried to remain conscious. He started thinking about good things he wanted to do if he got through this. Stuff like go to more shows, have more sex with Cindy, beat the shit out of Bill. But the next thing he knew it was all black.

Malcolm stood outside Josh's window and stared at him between the blinds with disbelief. He felt scared and went into the back to see if any of his roommates cars were in the little lot. They weren't which meant that Bill drove to the store drunk. He didn't care about him, he'd take him out soon if Bill didn't do it to himself first. He walked back around and tested the front door lock. It was shut tight. He pulled out Sarah's debit card from his pocket and slid it between the crack where the latch was, hoping that the dead bolt hadn't been thought of. After he jimmied it between the lock and door it came open. He ran toward Josh's room and did the same thing to his door.

Josh was lying on his side on the floor, a little blue but still had some color in him. Malcolm walked over to where he lay and squatted. He picked up his right arm and held it at the wrist. He could feel a heartbeat. It was slow but not dangerously slow.

If he could sweat he'd be wiping it off his brow.

Malcolm decided to put him in his bed and lifted Josh off the floor. He laid him on the exposed mattress and bent down to get the cover he'd pulled off. He put it over him and went for his works bag. He knew he should really dispose of the fucking thing but he thought better of it, it would be too suspicious. The face plate of the vent lay by the gaping hole, he put the cloth bag in it and screwed it back on. From the look of Josh's face and the fact that he dropped the thing when he first held it meant that the air had been hot. It was nothing but neutral air coming out of it now, the fan cooling down.

Malcolm stood up and looked at the man he wanted so desperately to be friends with, maybe more, but he couldn't bring himself to admit it. He went to the bed and put his long fingers through Josh's blue hair. The roots were starting to show a bit of blond and he thought to himself that maybe he could surprise him with more hair dye. The only thing is though he didn't know what brand he used. The wrong one could ruin the color he already had.

Against his better judgment, he walked out of the room and locked the door. He saw a Jack Daniels bottle on the coffee table and thought about taking a swig. But he knew that any alcoholic worth his salt would notice such a decrease in volume. He could always get one on the way home.

He immediately resented Bill for leaving Josh there to overdose. Even though he didn't know he was using drugs, he still would of investigated, he hoped, if he had heard the loud crash Josh had made when he fell.

Malcolm balled his fists so tight that he could feel his nails puncturing his palms. He was angry. His canines started to come out and he could smell the sour metallic scent of Josh's blood from the other side of his door. He resisted hurting him but thought of a better target. It was a long shot but he decided it would be worth it if he could get to him in time.

There was a King Soopers grocery store not even a mile from the house.

Bill staggered back to his car and fumbled for his keys, nearly dropping the six pack of Coke a Cola in the process.

"Fuck!" He slurred. He had taken three more shots before he left the house and he was feeling it hardcore right that moment. He had to get home soon.

Finally he got the key in and turned it, but when he went to open the door it was locked. He must of turned it the wrong way he thought. He did it again but in reverse but heard the lock coming off. Even in his drunken state he knew that he had locked it when he left the car. Did he not do it and imagined he did? He turned the key the other way again and opened the door. He got in.

He sat down and put the colas in the passenger side seat. Bill had to collect himself. The car was starting to spin. It was a straight line down the road and there was little traffic where he was going, still though, he was worried. He decided against his better judgment and put the keys in the ignition.

"You're not going to endanger lives by driving as shit faced as you are, are you?" A voice said from behind. Bill wasn't sure if he imagined it or it if it was real. Before he could turn around to investigate two hands wrapped around his neck and he was pulled into the back seat. He was pinned to the cushion but couldn't get a good look at his assailant. The car interior was still spinning but he could sort of make the man out. He looked familiar but he couldn't pin point him. The hands grew tighter and the man was yelling at him, he wasn't sure what he was saying but he reached into his pocket and took out his wallet, throwing it at the man.

"Please!" Bill choked. "Don't kill me!"

"You're doing a pretty good job of it yourself!" Malcolm said sternly, his face not even an inch from Bill's. Bill could feel Malcolm's cold breath on his face. Why was it so cold?

"Please!" Bill pleaded again. The hands around his neck loosened and soon Bill could breathe again, he took in a long one and filled his lungs with painful, stinging fresh air. His vision began to come back to him and he saw who it was. It was Josh's friend, Macom or Todd, or something like that. His first thought was that this must be an elaborate prank that he and Josh were pulling on him, until he saw the man reach for a huge fucking knife.

"We're going to go driving, just you and me."

Bill coughed. "Are you like punking me?"

Malcolm did not answer but instead climbed into the driver's seat. He started the ignition and gently pressed on the gas, moving the car out of the parking lot. Bill was scared but he was also pissed off at whatever this guy was trying to do to him. He got up and put his hands around Malcolm's throat but it was like grabbing granite. Malcolm laughed and stopped the car. He turned around and said to Bill "You want to do this the hard way? Ok." and plunged the big kitchen knife into Bill's small intestines. Bill let out a hysteric yelp and immediately clutched the wounded area with his hands. Malcolm pulled out the knife and to Bill's shock, there wasn't that much blood. There was some but not the amount you'd expect. He began crying in pain and doubled over onto the back seat floor.

Malcolm turned back around and scoffed. "You can live up to twelve hours with intestinal damage you big baby." He put the bloody knife next to the Cokes and started up the car again. Wherever they were going, it wasn't home and Bill knew this. He started thinking about his family, his only sister Marcia. She was going to be nineteen this year and a sophomore in college. She was going to be a geologist. He wanted to be with her right now.

He wanted to be with his mother, cradled in her arms while she told him that everything was going to be alright.

He wanted to be fishing on some lake out on the Pacific Ocean, where he and his father took vacation two years ago.

His tears stung his eyes. "Please don't kill me..." He moaned, trying to put more force into his voice but the pain wouldn't allow it.

"I just might." Malcolm said, he must of turned left because Bill could feel the car turning. "But first I want you to answer some questions for me."

"Please!" Bill cried.

"That's not what I asked now is it?" Malcolm hit the breaks and flung Bill into the walls of the seats, twisting his body in the process. The pain sent him into hysterics.

"Shut up!" Malcolm shouted back to him as he continued driving.

Bill could no longer think of the nice things in his life. The sensation of his guts leaking into himself was so unbearable that it blocked out all other conscious thought. He tried though. He knew that if he closed his eyes then he may not wake up.

"I want to live, please!" Bill choked out.

Malcolm's tempter was rising with everything that came out of the drunk's mouth. "If you wanted to live then why are you an alcoholic?"

Bill was now gasping for air. "I need help!" he said. "Please, I need help!"

"Help for the alcoholism or for your Nancy little stab wound?"

"Both! Please!"

"You'll live, for now." Malcolm laughed maliciously. "If you wanted help stopping then why didn't you get it in the first place?"

"No insurance."

"Why didn't you try to get financial aid then?"

Bill clutched his abdomen and cried out again. Malcolm one more hit the breaks, smashing Bill back into the seats.

Bill coughed. "I never knew of it!"

"You would of if you looked hard enough. I don't think you want to quit. I think that you are going to go through life like this and die of cirrhosis at the ripe old age of thirty. I simply cannot let you do that." Malcolm reached into his pocket with his free hand and took out a half pint of whiskey. He undid the cap with his teeth and turned around for a second to pour it all over Bill's face. Some of it landed on his knife wound and it made him shout out from the intense burning sensation. "I really don't need to do this you know." Malcolm said. "You probably have enough blood alcohol to choke a moose right now. But it's a precautionary measure I feel."

In between his wails of pain Bill cried "Precautionary for what!?"

Malcolm reached back and pulled Bill by the arm and onto the passenger side seat, sitting his chest on the coke cans. He cried more and all Malcolm could do was think that this guy will shut up soon enough; it was all he could do without breaking the fucker's spine into three pieces.

Bill tried to raise himself with his arms but he fell back down from the effort. He tried again and pulled himself somewhat into the seat. He did not look at Malcolm as he sat up. His eyes were fixed on the road ahead. The last thing he saw as he looked out the windshield was his car smashing into a tree at seventy miles an hour.

You do not dream when you overdose. You don't always die either. If you're lucky you just pass out, hopefully with your breathing intact. One of the things Josh had found out from his first overdose a few years back from the bastard doctor who gave him narcan (the antidote to opiates) is that the shit slows your breathing down to dangerous levels. When you don't breathe at all is when you die. At the time Josh would have rather went out in oblivion than to be found out. His dirty little secret exposed. He wasn't on his father's insurance anymore so he wouldn't know about it at least. But his last roommate had found him. After he found out Josh was OK he kicked him out and severed all ties with the guy.

Josh thought about this as he lay in bed. How did he get there? Sometimes you do things you don't remember when this happens. He wasn't sure he was happy to be alive but he was glad that at least he hadn't blown his cover.

His first thought was whether or not his stash had been compromised. He rolled over, still weak from the overdose, and looked down toward his floor to see where he had put his stuff. It wasn't there. A shot of ice cold blood went straight up his spine and he sat up. He fought to keep his eyes open but kept them so long enough to look around the room. He saw that the faceplate to the heating vent had been screwed back on. The only thing that was bothersome was that the screw driver sat beside it on the bright brown wooden flooring.

He lay back down and hugged his pillow. He then cried. He knew that he had wasted a high on overdosing like he did. He wasn't really mad about that though, he was mad that he would soon have to take another shot or he'll be sick. Another damn shot.

Another fucking shot...

As Josh lay in the fetal position sobbing, he did not see the red and blue lights outside. Neither did Garrick, who was passed out on the couch. He came to when there was a loud knock at the door. At first he thought he was hearing things until it happened again. This time louder and with more frequency.

"Police! Open up!" The officer said from behind the front door.

Garrick immediately checked his pockets to see if he had any pot on him. He couldn't remember, but he didn't. When he felt he was clear he got up and rushed to the door, hesitating to open it in fear that he would be arrested.

"Open up! Police!" The officer said again then knocked harder. "I see lights on! Open up!"

Garrick felt he had no choice but to obey orders just like his military father had taught him. His bastard father, the man without emotion or empathy. The man who took away his childhood. He imagined him on the other side and opened the door, fully expecting him to be right there.

The officer's face was grim. There was another one beside him, taller and black, his face an exact replica of the firsts. Garrick gulped hard and closed his eyes.

"Hello officers." He said a little too quickly.

"Hello son." The white shorter officer said. The tall black one took off his hat and stepped forward.

"Can we come in?" The black officer said softly.

Garrick was about to have a heart attack. If he had to go down then he would take them all with him.

"JOSH!" Garrick yelled. "JOSH GET OUT HERE!" There was no answer from his room. Shit! He thought.

The white one asked again. "May we come in sir?" Garrick nodded and stepped aside, letting the two men into his house, the house he would no doubt lose in a few minutes if in fact he did anything at all. He was very drunk and could feel his bladder expand and contract.

"What's this about?" Garrick asked in his best sober voice.

"I'm afraid we have bad news." The tall black officer said.

"Am I in trouble?" Garrick said quickly and immediately regretted it.

"No. You aren't."

"Does a Bill Mathews live here?" The white one asked.

Garrick felt a wave of relief wash over him. It was then that Josh stepped out of his door, groggy and angry that he had to get out of bed.

"Hey man," Garrick laughed. "Bill's in trouble!"

Josh took one look at the officers and immediately froze. He tried to play it off with Garrick. "DUI? I told him not to go to the store!" He put his hands to his side and looked downward, trying to avert eye contact because his eyes were pinned badly and they would give him away in an instant.

"No." The black officer said. "I'm sorry to tell you that he's been in an accident."

Josh went cold and numb. Despite his best efforts he looked up and into the white officer's eyes. "Accident?"

"Yes."

Garrick could do nothing but mouth the word 'accident' over and over. He had to sit down and did so, on the couch near where he stood.

"He ran into a tree. Totaled the car." The white one said seriously.

Garrick felt sick. He stared down at his bare feet and kept his eyes there. "Is... Is he OK?"

"He's dead."

"Oh my God..." Josh whimpered. He turned around and ran into his room, locking it as he did so. Garrick got up to get him but the white officer waved for him to sit back down. He had never hated Josh more than at this moment.

The three of them were silent for a moment. It felt like it was hours before the tall black cop spoke. "I know this is hard. But we cannot find any family. His cell phone was damaged and we couldn't get any numbers. All that survived was his ID which led us here. It was a shot in the dark but we're glad we found you."

"Accident..." Garrick needed a drink. Despite his better judgment he took Bill's Jack Daniels bottle and took a long hard drink. He only stopped because he had to catch his breath. Then he put the bottle to his lips again. The black officer pushed it down and took it from him. He did not object.

"We need you sober now." He said.

"Why?" The shock was wearing off and Garrick felt tears welling up in his eyes.

"We need somebody to come downtown and identify the body. Although it's going to be pretty hard I'll say, considering the condition it's in."

"Shit..."

"Was your roommate high?" The taller one asked.

Josh couldn't move. He just lay on his bed motionless for the longest time before he started weeping silently to himself. There had been knocks at his door and commands to come out but he simply ignored them. He had never known anyone who'd died before and it sent him into shivers. Resuming his earlier fetal position he almost had it in him to suck his thumb, as he did when he was young. It took many years to break him of the habit and the urge was almost as strong as his to do the last balloon of heroin at the moment.

He heard the voices stop from the other side of his room and the front door close. Josh wiped the tears from his eyes and went to the living room. He looked back for a moment at the faceplate of the heating vent and once again wondered how and when he put it back on. Josh let it pass and stepped out his door.

The Jack Daniels bottle was nearly empty. Almost one fourth full, he almost wanted to preserve it as it was in Bill's honor but he took the last of it anyways. It was always bad to mix heroin and alcohol because they are both respiratory depressants. It could be lethal but at the moment he didn't care. When he finished the bottle he carried it to his room and sat it beside his bed, where he intended it to stay for a long time.

"You fucking drunk..." Josh told himself. He lay back down on his bed and pulled up the covers, not bothering to take his clothes off.

"You fucking drunk..." He kept repeating himself as he cried himself to sleep.

Chapter 8: The Long and Winding Road to Dairy Queen

Malcolm was particularly proud of the set up. He of course was unharmed but that Bill character was a different story. Before he crashed he pulled him toward his chest, crushing him against his steel like ribs. He was barely recognizable as human when Malcolm walked away from the crash. He made sure to take the knife with him, even though he had no sweat to leave friction ridges, he took all the precautions he could.

He got back to the King Soopers and got his car within minutes, he was only five or so miles from the crash site and him being who he was, he ran pretty damn fast. Luckily no one saw him because it was night time already. He thought he saw a couple notice him as he passed them on foot but decided that they were too busy being into each other to notice. Couples always did make great patsies.

Malcolm got home and took off his shoes. His socks weren't dirty or anything but he wanted to walk around in bare feet so he took them off. Then he went for the kitten box to check if they had enough food and water. They had neither so he refilled both. He stooped over and just watched them eat and drink for a little while, trying to collect his thoughts.

He wondered if he should take care of that Garrick guy or if this would break the unit apart and leave Josh needing a place to live. He was hoping for the latter. Rent would be cheap, if there were to be any at all for the first little while. He'd take him out and treat him nicely, unlike his other roommates. Malcolm wasn't sure if he was infatuated, in love, or just really wanting him to be a friend. It was so confusing to him. The only other time he felt this way was back when he was human and he fell for the farm hand on his father's plantation. He never in a million years expected to be smitten with a slave. The man's real name was unknown but his slave name was Thomas. The memory... He had to take his mind off of things for a while.

He took out Fido from the box and carried him over to the futon, sat down, and used the remote to turn on the TV. There was already a movie in the Blu Ray player, season one / disc one of the original Transformers cartoon show. The eighties were a bad time for him but this brought back some of the better memories. He remembered sitting with this girl Alicia's son in their living room on the floor, legs crossed, and watching this show. She was a good mother and a great girlfriend. It broke his heart the day that he killed them. He originally just wanted to take her life but without a mother the kid would of grown up messed up so he had to, for his sake, take him too.

Little Isaac was just so damn cool. He looked up to Malcolm and wanted to be a big tall man like him when he grew up. Malcolm brought him presents, mostly rubber balls because he liked those, whenever he'd come over. They would all eat great meals together and go out to the movies. He remembered that Alicia had to work so he snuck Isaac into Pet Semetary when it came out. Isaac was so scared that he held onto Malcolm the entire time from the point of the man getting hit by the truck on. Malcolm liked feeling important to somebody.

Then Alicia stopped answering his calls. Then when he'd come over she would tell him that she was going out, that Isaac was over at his aunt's. He knew something was up, but he just didn't want to believe it at first. When he pressed the issue she avoided him even more. Going out of her way to do so, taking alternate routes to the club where she worked, going to different grocery stores, she was hell bent on leaving him behind and he had no idea why. She wasn't seeing anyone else that he could tell. He did however notice her going to church a lot, which wasn't like her at all.

She had asked Malcolm a few times about going but he always admitted that it just wasn't for him. He was an atheist and religion didn't sit well with him. After all, it was religion that killed him the first time, or at least what his town did to him with it. All because he fell for a black man who wasn't considered fully human...

He remembered vaguely a verse from Leviticus that said "If a man lay with another man the way he does a woman, his blood shall be on his hands, and he will surely be put to death." And it sure was. That coupled with the fact that the bible promoted slavery in many cases (unless you were male, white, and one of the chosen ones) that made it so hard to even think of a colored man as an equal was grounds for heresy. Blasphemy. And the punishment for that is just as bad as the one for being with another guy, if not worse, especially back when they thought bloodletting cured diseases.

Man, people were so fucking stupid back then.

People are so fucking stupid now.

Which brought back a memory...

People were so fucking stupid back when Alicia was around. She took a hold of Isaac as well. When Malcolm finally was able to talk to her, she said she didn't want him around her son because he was a heathen. Unfounded. When asked why she felt this way she said it was his Godless life that she couldn't stand anymore. Malcolm told her that she rarely went to church when they were together, why the sudden religious zealously?

Her father had died, but she never told him until that day. Malcolm tried to be understanding but he was just angry that she never told him. She said that it was because he was too heartless to. He never was good at feelings. Malcolm was dumbfounded by this. He always talked to her about these things. There must of been another reason. He figured that she was just scared of her own mortality and knew that she couldn't change her life with Malcolm around, because he would resist the superstitious nonsense.

She found a new man, an ad man, someone who shared her new belief system. Malcolm didn't kill him because he was doing something with his life and most importantly, he wasn't the one he was mad at. It was her. That bitch Alicia.

It had started simply enough. He wanted to come over to get some of his things when she wouldn't let him in. Things escalated. She had threatened to call the cops on him if he didn't leave. So he cut her phone line and broke into the back door. She was in the living room watching TV when he appeared from the kitchen doorway. The rest of the details were a little fuzzy. Things always are a bit hard to remember when you've had such a great time. It just passes so fast.

Malcolm remembered going for her on the couch. She just sat there while he did it with the dumb expression of a possum playing dead. He pinned her to the cushions and stole one last kiss, taking her tongue with it. He let her go and she tried to scream, but there was so much blood in her mouth that she had to have been choking on it. Malcolm took her again and bent down to bite her because she was so damn short. He remembered sex being awkward with her. Tearing off her flesh and drinking the blood came pretty closer to satisfactory sexual gratification for him than any of the times he stuck it in her. He remembers her blood tasting very metallic and bitter, as if she had been drinking a lot. There was no smell of alcohol but the taste lingered in his mouth.

Isaac was up in his room. He came out to investigate the screams and found Malcolm huddled over his now dead mother. Malcolm's heart broke when he saw that face. He knew he'd never be the same. The boy just stood there as he walked up to him. He couldn't get himself to feed on him. He was too young for that kind of pain.

Plus he was a witness.

Malcolm had opened his arms for an embrace. The boy, tears running down his cheeks, accepted the invite and came to him. Malcolm held him for what seemed like hours. It took everything in him to do what he had to do next. He kneeled down and told him to be brave. He was about to see his mommy again. Malcolm put his hands on Isaac's head and closed his eyes. Then he crushed it, like smashing a banana. His brains leaked out of his ears and his eyes came out of their sockets. He no longer looked like the sweet little boy he took to the movies. He looked absolutely inhuman now.

At least he died quickly and without any pain that he knew of.

Malcolm gathered his things and locked the door when he left. He had a lot of blood on him but he was used to that. He'd just have to clean off and change clothes. At this point in time he drove a Pinto and lived in upstate Washington. Malcolm changed cars, careers, and locations every ten or so years as to avoid suspicion. He was good at what he did. He knew of all the master counterfeiters. It was never a big thing to get a new identity. He was always Malcolm though. But back then he was Malcolm Holly.

Now he is Malcolm Dexter.

Originally he was Malcolm Jefferson (no relation to the president).

Sometimes, like that moment, he thinks about Isaac and his Transformers. It is a good show, Malcolm agreed. As he watched it he dozed off, dreaming of that sweet little boy he helped along the way.

Maybe he should buy the old cartoon show Transformers online? That would be cool.

As he drifted he dreamt of robots. Sleep came easy for both him and Fido, who sat and slept beside him on the futon, purring with contentment at being beside his new owner and friend.

Josh had nightmares the previous night. He barely got to sleep even with all of the narcotics in his system. One of the dreams he had was of him being in the car when it crashed. He had accepted the invitation to go to the store with Bill and they were doing fine, he even accepted some shots from the guy while driving. But Bill was swerving off and on the road and Josh just sat there drinking while he did so. It didn't get scary until he turned around to look at Bill, whose face had melted off, leaving a bloody skull behind. His heart skipped a beat and Bill reached around to his side and undid his seat belt, enabling him to bend over to where Josh sat. He put his bony face to Josh's and breathed on him. Josh was more scared about the fact that Bill wasn't paying attention to the road than he was about the melted off face. Before he woke up he saw the tree coming at them. He awoke mere seconds before crashing into it.

He didn't sit up in bed sweating like they do in the movies. In real life you just don't do that. No, he woke up lying in his bed, covered up with a sheet and quite dry aside from his crotch, which always sweated during the night. He had taken off his pants so this wasn't too much of a problem, but it was still annoying because he went through boxers so much because of this.

Josh lay in the darkness for what seemed like an hour before he fell asleep. When he finally did it was like dreaming came instantaneously. This time he dreamed about his teeth falling out. He bit on an apple and his top two front teeth broke in half. Knowing he was dreaming did little to ease his perceived suffering. He could feel the pain of the two incisors being severed. It was so real. He wondered why he was dreaming about this. What did it have to do with Bill?

At least he knew he was dreaming, but he couldn't wake up. He hated dreams like that.

Finally when he did awake again it was only four in the morning. He had to go to work at around six and his alarm was only twenty minutes from sounding. He got up and put and sat on his bed and ran his fingers through his hair. Sighing, he stood and put on his pants. Normally he would take a shower at this time of day but it just seemed meaningless right now.

When he opened his door he was hoping to see Bill on the couch, alive and passed out. But he did not. Instead he saw the ketchup stain where they'd all eaten eggs on it a few months ago. He had to laugh at that. Bill had wanted to start a food fight but when he threw his omelet at Garrick he got all pissed off and threatened him, so he tried it on Josh who also said he would beat him within an inch of his life if he did it again. Bill was disheartened and picked up the pieces of egg that had fallen on the couch. Josh didn't know why but he smiled at this memory. Bill wasn't a bad guy. Just like him he had a problem, and like him it would kill Josh soon enough if something wasn't done about it.

But what could he do? He has no insurance to go to rehab. Maybe he could say he's suicidal and be checked into a detox / mental health facility. That might work, but he'd have to take a leave from work, something that they may or may not do. If he told them the truth he knew he'd get fired in an instant. You can be an alcoholic and people understand. You can be a coke head and you get sympathy. You tell someone in confidence that you can't stop smoking pot or meth and you get a hug and are told that things will be alright.

But...

You tell somebody that you do heroin and immediately you are ostracized. Nobody likes a junky. It reminded Josh of that Against Me! song "Thrash Unreal"

'No mother ever dreams that her daughter's gonna grow up to be a junky

No mother ever dreams that her daughter's gonna grow up to sleep alone'

Replace daughter with son and you have Josh. Even though he sometimes didn't sleep alone he still felt that way. Cindy was a great girl but he sort of felt like it was a companionship of convenience. She got heroin and sex while he sometimes got the emotional support he craved, and sex. He couldn't discount that. Was it good because he felt connected or was it good because he busted a nut in a vagina? Probably a bit of both, but the emotional attachment was still there.

Josh felt bad at thinking this. He shouldn't judge Cindy without knowing for sure if she was only in it for those reasons. It's just a bad time to be thinking about anything right that moment let alone a relationship. How he wanted to call her right now. How badly he wanted her to come over and tell him that everything would be OK.

Was everything going to be OK?

What was he going to do if they lost the house?

He thought about Malcolm's offer to have him move in. He was a good guy he supposed. He had a car and liked to party, which was good. But he also found out Josh's secret by just looking him into the eyes, but yet he didn't seem to be too irate about it. Maybe this would be a good thing? He just had to wait and see what Garrick decided.

What was he going to do if Garrick left and Malcolm backed out on him?

He didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to think about anything at all. Withdrawal was coming on... He needed a shot. But he'd have to be careful with the stuff he had. He'd already overdosed once the day before.

Maybe just half would do.

That would be splendid...

Officer Daniels got into the department at around six that morning, unusually early for him. Samantha had all but threatened to behead him when he forgot all about taking his six year old son to the AVs hockey game the night before. He couldn't help it though, he was filling out paper work a mile long. It's easy to lose yourself in that stuff.

Depression kicked in around nine o'clock though. His family life was falling apart due to his commitment at work. But without his work he'd just go crazy. It wasn't the catching the bad guys thing or even the whole sense of duty that kept him there. It was the repetition. He craved the structure working on the force brought to his life. He had a purpose.

Catching the bad guys was just gravy though. He didn't like putting addicts in jail however. They were just a casualty of the system. It was arresting the drug dealers and rapists and murderers that brought a rush. Although again, it was just icing on the cake, he could never wait to get back to the office and fill out the forms.

Monotony...

Structure...

It was all just gravy.

Daniels wanted to smile but he couldn't help but feel sad. Had this become his whole life? If he could admit it to himself he would say that he loves his job more than his own family. Not that he didn't care about his son, he did. But he just felt as if he was a lost cause and maybe his mother should focus more on raising him. He just wasn't cut out to be a father he felt. Daniels had kicked around the idea of divorce for a long time now. Ever since the carnival incident not even a year ago, he had it on his mind.

He had a rare day off and decided to play the good dad and take his family to Lakeside amusement park. His son was too short to ride most of the rides but he could get on some of them with ease. There was a snotty teenage ride operator who told the boy that he was just too short to ride the smaller rollercoaster. It wasn't so much the words that made him cry as it was the delivery. They moved on and went for the merry go round.

His son, Adam, was completely enthralled by the ride and wanted to go on it numerous times, seemingly forgetting all about the kiddy rollercoaster. On his fifth time around, Daniels decided that he needed to go to the bathroom and left his son unattended on the plaster horsey. He assumed that his wife, who was watching from a bench across the way, would look after him while he went to take a piss.

Daniels had not even gotten off the ride when he heard that horrible scream. He looked back to see his son lying on the floor of the merry go round crying. He went around and around and each time he came into view it all became a little more surreal. It was Samantha that responded first. She pushed her way past Daniels and jumped onto the ride to get to her son. By this time the operator had stopped the merry go round and went up to investigate. There was a small crowd amassing over where Adam had fallen. It felt like a bad dream. Daniels snapped out of it somewhat and calmly walked up to the scene of the accident.

He saw his son doubled over holding his arm, tears streaking across his face like a bad weather pattern. His mother was by him frantically trying to find out if he was OK or not. Daniels felt stupid and numb at the sight. He was surprised about how little he felt and wished he could've used his service revolver to put a bullet through his skull. He hated himself for feeling nothing. He hated himself for being the way he is.

Samantha looked up at Daniels with a look that could melt plastic. By the time Daniels could say anything an ambulance had arrived. The paramedics passed him by and went for Adam. They lifted him onto the stretcher screaming and crying for his daddy. Samantha hushed him and softly stroked his wet cheeks. The EMT told him that they were taking him to the Lutheran Medical Center emergency room on 38th avenue. They gave him directions and took his son with them to the ambulance, Samantha followed inside. As she passed she said nothing to Daniels and just left him standing by the ride, staring into the crowd.

An hour later the doctor confirmed what he had feared. Adam had broken his arm. And not just a little fracture but a full on break, Daniels couldn't believe that just by falling a few feet onto the ground you could do that much damage to your body. He had never broken anything in his life so he really had no point of reference to be empathetic. All he could think about was how life would be after this event.

Samantha didn't talk to him for weeks. They slept in the same bed but they might as well been two completely separate tourists in the same country. Samantha didn't sleep with him either for the longest time, resulting in him having to break out the hand lotion from time to time to keep himself company.

He's been using Johnson and Johnson a lot lately. He used to have such a good sex life and a good marriage too. Reading magazines like Cosmo and such had always given him the impression that the key to a good marriage lies in the bedroom. Now he was occasionally sleeping on the couch to get away from her.

Daniels punched the side of his desk and figured that he was not going to do anyone any good if he was to be doing work at that moment in time. He got up and went for the break room for some coffee. Along the way he saw Jim, the new cadet, standing by the coffee pot and messing around on his smart phone.

Jim was a handsome guy, although he was almost sickly thin to the point where you could see all of his bones in his face and wrists, he was still a good looking man. He had to be at least out of high school. Daniels wanted to have him transfer to undercover work because he looked like an addict with how sunken in his face looked.

Jim looked up and smiled as Daniels passed him by to get to the Styrofoam cups in the cabinet above the sink.

"How are you today?" Daniels asked in a dry monotone. He really didn't care right that minute but he wanted to be polite.

"Doing good." Jim replied, his teeth were very white Daniels noticed. White and big. His smile was the sort that looked like every tooth had been capped. "Just found out that my girlfriend is pregnant. Good thing I got this job. I don't think I could afford a kid on a high school diploma if I weren't a cop."

Calling himself that grated on Daniels a little. He wasn't a cop. He was an officer. A policeman, he did not correct him and went for the coffee.

"Congratulations." Daniels offered as he poured himself a cup of black coffee. He went for the sugar and could not find any Sweet and Low. "Got a kid myself, how far along is she?"

Jim grinned. "Seven weeks. We don't know whether it's a boy or a girl yet but we're hoping for a boy."

"Yeah, boys are great. At least you don't have to worry about them dating. If I had a girl I would most likely keep a shotgun handy for the time she hit puberty." Daniels was getting frustrated because all he could find was Sugar in the Raw, raw sugar that required twice the amount to make anything even remotely sweet. It was supposedly better for you than regular sugar and saccharin but Daniels was craving the artificial sweetener he normally used. He gave in and dumped five packets into his cup and went to the refrigerator for some half and half.

"Um... I wanted to ask you something." Jim said, serious for the first time in the conversation.

Daniels did not look up from the fridge door. "Shoot."

"Yeah," Jim ran his long fingers through his black crew cut hair. "You mentioned that I would be good at being an undercover. Do you think you could help me get that gig?"

Daniels sighed. The truth was far more irritating to him. "I think you'll need a little seniority for that, but I'll see what I can do."

Jim smiled. "Yeah, this uniform doesn't flatter my ass. Look!" He motioned to his bottom. "I have no ass! It's a disgrace! I need civilian clothes or people are going to think bad things about me!" He laughed and Daniels couldn't help but join in.

"As I said, I'll see what I can do." Daniels took out the creamer and poured some into his cup. The two men stood silent for a few minutes staring at the floor. Daniels left the room after that without saying good bye and headed back to his desk.

He hoped Jim would be a better father than he is. He seemed like he would. Daniels hadn't had a partner since he was on patrol unit. Maybe he could use one, to help his moral. He needed some company after all.

Daniels sighed and looked at the memos on his desk. One about a drug shipment coming up that didn't really interest him. It was probably just a bad lead anyways, something to throw him off. The other one was about a car crash off of Colorado. This confused him since he didn't normally work that sort of beat. He stood up and went into the captain's office, holding the memo with his free hand and the cup of coffee in the other.

McCracken looked up from his desk and smiled at the man standing in his doorway. Daniels waved the memo in the air and had a look of perplexity on his face.

"Why am I being considered for this?" Daniels asked.

In his gruff baritone McCracken said "Because there is reason to believe that drugs were involved in that young man's death. Officer Roberts said that one of his roommate's eyes was pinned something fierce and the other was drunk and also possibly high. It's just something we think we should look into."

Daniels looked at the rest of the memo and saw the name Josh Hardy, he knew this guy he thought. "Does the opiate user have blue hair?" He asked.

"Yes he does. Do you know him?" McCracken eye's were back on his computer screen.

"He's one of the addicts that I have on watch out down at the park. He's always buying shit, but he's just a kid sir. I'm sure our resources would be better spent taking down his dealers than focusing on an addict."

"That may be so. But there could have been a death as a result of their use. Toxicology will take another week but in the mean time I want you to bring him in. Or both of them if they both use."

"We can't just bring somebody in for using."

"Then catch him when he buys something. We have to take any serious tragedy seriously." McCracken looked up from his computer and scowled. "Are we clear on this?"

Daniels sighed. "Yes. I guess we are." He slinked back out of the captain's office and headed for his desk on the far right hand side of the room. He really didn't want to bring in that kid, but he supposed the captain had a point. His use and his roommate's possible use may have endangered the life of that young man who died in the car crash.

He knew that that Josh kid would be around the park at about three or four. If he remembered correctly he got off work around that time. He had to buy some everyday or he'd get sick. Daniels grabbed his tattered brown jacket and headed for the elevator.

Chapter 9: Everyone needs a little probation now and then.

Josh was still dazed as he made the lady's espresso. He had been running mostly on fumes since the night before and couldn't bring himself to think that anything was out of the ordinary. Life goes on, whether you want it to or not. He had forced himself to come to work and so far it wasn't doing all that great of a job in keeping his mind occupied. He did not tell his boss nor his co-workers about what had happened the night before. Josh wasn't the kind to ask for a pity party.

From across the bar he noticed a tall blurry figure come into view. He tried to focus his eyes but they were failing him. The espresso had been pulled for more than a minute now, causing the lady up front much distress. He took his eyes off of whatever he had been looking at and handed the girl her shots. She said something about not leaving a tip but he didn't care at that moment. He just wanted to go get some heroin and sleep for three days straight.

Sleep... He wished he could have normal sleep again. Like he used to when he was clean, before all this shit happened.

Before his addiction.

Before Bill got wrapped up around a tree.

He wanted nothing more than to go into the back room and cry. His eyes began to sting and he felt them with his hands. He was crying now. He couldn't stay out in the front room and do this in front of everybody.

Josh turned around and headed for the back when he heard someone call his name. It sounded like it was coming from miles away; its echo reverberated all around his head. He had to sit down.

"Josh!" The familiar voice sounded again. Was he hearing things? He turned around to see that the tall figure was Malcolm. He had no idea why but he wanted to hug him right now and have him take him home so he could be alone.

Josh wiped his face off with his shirt sleeve. "Hey man."

"Hey you!" Malcolm smiled. "Why are you crying?"

Josh hesitated but decided to tell him anyways. "Bill's dead..."

Malcolm stood silent for a moment, his grin replaced by a somber, mournful look. "How?" He asked.

"Drove drunk." Josh felt like going in the back again. "Dude. I can't stand here and talk anymore. I think I need to go home."

Malcolm nodded. "Well I can take you. You look like shit."

Josh laughed. "This coming from a man who's whiter than Casper." The humor was short lived however. Josh walked into the back and told his employer that he had to leave. It took some haggling but when he finally came clean about why he was in such a sorry state that day his boss agreed. He grabbed his coat and headed for the front of the espresso bar and made himself a caramel latte.

"You want something?" Josh asked, fighting back the tears that threatened to show up again.

"No man, I'm cool." Malcolm put his hands in his pockets and stood awkwardly while Josh made his drink. When he finished he cleaned the steam wand and told the other girl Michelle goodbye. As he walked around the bar Malcolm put his arm around Josh's tiny frame and walked him out of the Jumping Bean.

Once outside Josh could no longer hold it in. He fell to his knees and began weeping on the concrete. Malcolm looked around the shopping center and noticed a few people staring at him. He felt bad but he didn't want to cause a scene. He reached for Josh's arm and tried to pull him up but he resisted with all his might.

"NO!" Josh screamed. His face was now bright red and wet. Malcolm let go and tried again thirty seconds later. On the second try he was able to lift Josh to his feet. He pulled him into an embrace and tried to quiet his sobbing friend. He never knew that he and Bill was this close. Or were they? Malcolm got a little annoyed by the whole thing and held onto him tighter.

Josh gently pushed Malcolm away and wiped his face off with the bottom of his shirt. He took some deep breaths and put his hands up, as if he were surrendering.

"I'm OK." He choked.

"You sure?" Malcolm asked.

"Yeah. I just need to get home." Malcolm put his arm around Josh once again and led him to the parking lot, where his car was. He unlocked it with the electronic buzzer on his key ring and helped Josh into the passenger side seat. He then shut his door and made his way to the driver's side of the car. When he got in Josh noticed how cramped he was in the tiny vehicle and made his first joke of the day.

"Serves you right for being so tall." Josh said, smiling.

Malcolm could help but grin. "I know, right?" He put the keys in the ignition and started up the car. As he pulled out of the parking lot Malcolm looked over to his right to see that Josh had put his head against the window and closed his eyes. He wondered if he was going to go through withdrawal soon. Knowing better than to ask he just focused on the road and went down to Josh's house.

He noticed a cop car out in the driveway and passed him by. Malcolm nudged Josh to awaken and he did so after some hesitation.

"What are the cops doing here?" Josh said groggily. Malcolm did not have an answer.

"Do you want to face them?" Josh asked as he parked two blocks from Josh's place.

Josh felt as if his veins were coursing with ice water. He shook his head. "Could you drop me off by the library?" Malcolm knew what this meant. The library was across the street from the park. He was going to go score. Part of Malcolm wanted to turn him over if for anything so he could get help.

He did as he was asked and drove down Colfax to Broadway, where he was going to drop off his friend. They did not speak to one another the entire way down and whenever Malcolm tried to talk Josh just grunted and looked away.

When they got to Colfax and Broadway he pulled up at the bus stop and parked for a second. He expected Josh to at least say thank you but the guy just bolted from the car and ran down the street. Angered, Malcolm drove off and found a parking spot on Lincoln and 17th.

He only had a few quarters on him but he felt that he could go and either get Josh or get the guy supplying him the poison in the allotted amount of time the parking meter would allow. He got out and fed the machine, then turned and ran towards Colfax. He made it down to the park in a few minutes time and could see Josh down by the cathedral looking stone structure. He went over to a wall and crouched behind it. He looked up to see Josh giving a Hispanic man what looked like money. Malcolm uttered a low animal growl and scraped his nails on the concrete, leaving marks.

Josh had bought his fix and now he was going to go to a bathroom and shoot up. He made it almost out of the park when Roger came up beside him.

"How're ya doing buddy?" He asked, patting Josh on the back. Josh shrugged him off and started walking faster away from him.

Malcolm saw the dealer walking away in the opposite direction but decided to let him go for now. He was sure Josh was going to overdose or something.

Josh made it to Colfax but Roger was still walking beside him. He looked back and saw the only other person in the park at the moment, it was just some tall guy with black hair. Roger felt for his cuffs on the inside of his jacket and waited for them to get out of the park to strike.

Malcolm followed them to the McDonald's on 16th and Court when he saw the tall blond headed guy reach for Josh's arm and pull him to the side. Malcolm nearly flew over to help Josh but had a feeling that he should stay back and see what was going to happen.

Josh was taken aback by the force of Roger's pull. He started to protest when the man pulled out a badge from underneath his jacket. Every cell in Josh's body went numb and he let out a long, pained cry.

Josh knew the guy was a little too eager to be a real junky. Daniels pulled out his cuffs.

"Put your hands behind your back!" Daniels commanded. Josh did as he was told, looking at his converse sneakers as he did so. Daniels put the hand cuffs on him and told him to not move. He reached for Josh's pockets. "Anything sharp in there that's going to poke me?" He asked.

Josh banged his head on the cement wall in front of him. "I have a needle in there, but it has a cap on." Daniels proceeded with care as he pulled out his works and the black heroin balloon. Josh started to cry and began to hit his head progressively harder on the wall. Daniels pulled him aside and sat him on the ground. Josh had hit himself hard enough to draw blood on his face, Daniels figured with the events of the past two days he might be a suicide risk.

Malcolm could smell Josh's blood from down the way and it made his mouth water. He wanted nothing more than to wrap his long arms around Josh and drink every ounce of life out of him. It smelled so good that he was getting an erection just thinking about it. But he kept his distance and observed the plainclothes policeman pull out a radio. Within a minute or so a squad car came by and he led Josh into the back seat. Malcolm couldn't stand the smell of blood nor the seeming ease that Josh had been arrested so he turned around and headed back for the park.

When he got there he could see no other persons in the grassy area other than that bastard dealer who sat under the shade of a tree. Malcolm looked in all directions to make sure he was clear. He then walked over to the short Hispanic man and stood over him, casting a long shadow. Malcolm's fists were balled so tight that his nails were cutting into his skin. The man had his eyes closed and his hands behind his head as he lay on the grass.

Malcolm reached down just in time for the man to open his eyes. Before he could scream Malcolm put his hands around his small head and twisted it, hearing the loud crack as his neck broke into two just above the second vertebrate. Malcolm kept his hands on the little man's head and felt for the pulse to recede. When it finally did he eased his head back down onto the grass. Malcolm looked around again to make sure he wasn't being watched.

There was a man way down the way but that did not bother Malcolm none. He stood back up and walked briskly to the other side of the park, where he disappeared into the crowd of library goers. He decided to go in and wait a while before he returned outside.

There was a dead man lying out in broad daylight. Certainly that was going to cause quite the stir.

Josh was led into the holding area of the new Denver Police station. His wrists were raw from the cuffs being too tight and he was seriously thinking about suicide. He didn't know how he would do it, but he felt as if it was a moral obligation now. How was he going to explain this to his roommate?

His family?

His work?

He felt screwed. He was going to lose his job and probably his room at the house. A wave of frigid depression washed over him.

The first pangs of withdrawal started to hit him and he shifted where he sat in the open lobby to get a little more comfortable. He couldn't though, his mind was racing too fast for him to keep up and his skin was starting to burn. Josh felt his crotch area and moaned, he had sweated through his pants, which is common when you are going through withdrawal. He needed a shower. He never had gotten arrested before but knew that he would most certainly have to stay a while.

Josh heard his name called and looked around the lobby area to see who had said it. There was a bald man with a short gray beard sitting at the desk up on the steps motioning for him to come over. Josh did as he was asked but kept his head low the entire time.

He sat down in front of the man and he introduced himself as officer Mitchell.

"I need some information from you young man." He said without any discernable emotion. Josh nodded but still didn't look up. He gave him all of his contact info, his birth place, and his social security number. When he was done with him he told Josh to go take a seat again until the nurse called for him.

Josh was beyond the point of crying and felt himself grow number with each step he took back toward the lobby area. He found a seat next to what looked like a tranny and sat down.

"Whatchoo in for sweety?" The he / she asked.

"Drugs." Josh put his face in his hands and held himself steady.

"First time?" he / she said. Josh looked up and saw it cross its legs and shake it's head in amusement.

"Yeah, first time." Josh conceded. The thing next to him started laughing softly.

"You'll be out in a few days honey. They gonna give you probation." The thing scratched its crotch and stood up to straighten out his / her pants. It sat back down. "Nothing big."

Josh felt a little bit better but not a whole lot. "What are they going to do when they find out I'm on heroin?"

The thing scoffed in disgust. "They gonna give you something for it. But it ain't gonna be no picnic. I was on the stuff for two years befo' I quit." It looked around the room. "I wish I had a cigarette. Them things are harder to quit than smack is honey."

Josh had to ask. "Are you a boy or a girl?"

"Depends on what your definition of a boy and girl are." The thing laughed. "I was born a he but now I'm a she." She extended her hand to shake. "Name's Crystal."

Josh smiled. "Josh." He took her hand and it was surprisingly firm and masculine. "What are you in for?"

It was Crystal's turn to smile now. "This is a special time for me. I've got my thirtieth ho charge!" She gave a whoop and a holler, causing the other newly arrested people to look on over, Josh felt embarrassed.

"You gonna be out soon." The girl put her hand on Josh's knee, he pushed it away but she seemed unfazed. "Just you see."

He spent the next thirty or so minutes talking to her until he heard the nurse call out his name. Josh once again held his head low and marched toward the desk at the far end of the room where the nurse was sitting. It was a young man with short red hair and had blue scrubs on. He motioned for Josh to sit and went through the standard questions.

"Do you take any medication?" He asked Josh. Josh shook his head and kept his hands in his lap. The man continued, "Are you going to be coming off of anything that we should know about?"

Josh looked up and felt tears coming. "Heroin." He said meekly. He was so ashamed.

"OK." The man said nonchalantly and began to write something down on the form in front of him.

"Will you guys give me methadone?" Josh asked.

"Nope." The man looked up and stared Josh straight in the eyes. "We just do Clonadine here. It should take off the edge but you're still going to go through a good bit of withdrawal."

Josh groaned.

When he was booked in and had changed into green felon jail clothing, Josh was led down a hallway and into a big metal elevator along with a handful of other men. They were joking and talking and it felt to Josh as if they didn't understand the severity of their situation. They were in jail for Christ's sake! He kept his head low and said nothing.

He was escorted down another bland looking hallway and into a large room that had two floors, each floor had a row of green metal doors wrapping around the room that contrasted with the manila paint on the walls. He had been given a blanket, a towel, and a bag of toiletries, he was told that his room was on the second floor. Room 204. He walked resignedly up the metal stairs and went into the enclosed space of a room. There was a man with a bald head and a goatee lying on the bottom bunk. He noticed Josh walk in and sat up.

"Got me a roommate now huh?" He said to himself in a gruff baritone. Josh felt like this was the start of some gay porn that he never wanted to watch in the first place. He only hoped that the man wouldn't go after him while he slept. If he could get any sleep at all that is...

"Just to let you know," The man was saying. "that if you snore, I'll kill you." He got up and went for the urinal / sink and undid his fly. Josh looked away and put his stuff on the top bunk. He took off his orange jail slip on shoes and climbed up. The man finished peeing and flushed the toilet, going back to his bed without even washing his hands.

They had given Josh a clonadine before he came up and he could sort of feel it working a little. Clonadine is a heart pressure medicine that is supposed to make coming down more tolerable. So far all it had done was make him extremely light headed.

"What are you in for?" The man asked from the bottom bunk. Josh continued to stare at the ceiling, focusing on the fluorescent light above him.

"Heroin." Josh said quickly, his eyes were growing heavy.

"Tough shit that stuff is." The man laughed. "How did you get yourself into that stuff?"

Josh couldn't pin point an exact time he came about liking opiates. He remembered breaking an arm and getting pills. But that was a long time ago. His first use of heroin was a different story.

He had gone to a Dressy Bessy show and was enthralled by the opening band, The Amazing Fuck Ups. They had a chick bass player AND drummer. The other two guitarists / singers were men. They had rocked for a good thirty minutes before abruptly quitting and started to haul their gear off the stage. Josh followed the lead singer down out of the back door of the Hi Dive, hoping to tell him what a great show they had put on.

When the man put his heavy 12x4 guitar speaker cabinet into the van Josh made his move. "Great show man!" He said aloud.

The man looked at him and smiled. "Thanks man, thanks for coming!" They shook hands and Josh offered to buy him a drink but the man declined. "Hey man, do you know where I could score in this town?" He asked.

Josh was at a loss, "Um... I have like two percosets. I could give you one. It's better if you snort it though."

The man laughed. "No man. Fuck that wimpy shit. I'm talking about horse." He smacked his lips as he said this. Josh still didn't understand what he meant.

"I'm not sure I follow you." Josh admitted. The man looked around the dark alleyway and motioned for him to come to the van.

Before he opened the door, he stopped and put his hand forward with the palm up in the air. "We cool?" He asked.

"What?"

"I said, are we cool? You're not a narc or anything are you?" The man was getting nervous. Josh shook his head and he was led into the back seat of the van. The man pulled out a brown cloth bag and walked passed Josh on his way back into the venue. When he reached the door he looked back and said "Are you coming or what?" Josh did as he was told. He was on autopilot at that moment in time and followed the grungy man back into the building. He was then led into the bathroom nearest the exit and the man shut and locked the door behind him.

"Ever do this shit?" He asked Josh, who again shook his head silently. The man smiled. "It will change your world!" He dumped the contents of the bag onto the bathroom floor and plundered through it until he found his needle plus a clean one for Josh. He prepped the stuff while Josh stood over him, dumbfounded at what he was seeing. There was no way he was in this position right at that moment. The man took off his belt and wrapped it around his arm. Josh couldn't watch so he looked away. The man laughed.

Not too long after Josh averted his gaze did the man say that he was finished, that it would be his turn next. Josh looked back down at the guy who was wiping the pit of his elbow with a toilet tissue, wiping the blood off. He then put the clean needle in the same cotton he had used and drew up the rest of the brown liquid.

Josh's heart started to beat so fast he was sure he was going to have a heart murmur or something. He was then asked to sit down; he did as he was told. The man told him to remove his jacket and he did that too. Josh was wearing a short sleeve black t-shirt. His virgin veins displayed prominently on his arms like most skinny white guys. The man put the belt around his left arm and tightened it. It was almost uncomfortable but Josh ignored it.

The man had the needle in one hand and the other was resting on a large vein in Josh's forearm. "You always have someone shoot you up the first time." He said as he put the needle to the skin. Josh looked away and flinched a little when he felt his skin being punctured. In less than a second the man took it out and put some tissue over it.

Josh looked back down at his arm. "Was that it?" He asked. The man laughed and told him to wait a second. Before he could reply he felt it. That first great rush. Better than any sex he'd ever had. He remembered the aura around everything was so bright and welcoming.

Josh opened his eyes when the green metal door slid open loudly. An officer stood at the door way with a clip board in hand. "Joshua Hardy?" He asked.

Josh sat up. "That's me."

The officer wrote something down on his paper and said "They want you downstairs for questioning."

Josh jumped off the bed and slipped on his shoes. He stepped out of the room and the cop spoke into his walkie talkie. "Baker this is Romero, close 204." And within two seconds the door grinded shut. The officer told Josh to tuck in his shirt and to go down the stairs, out the door, down the hallway to the elevators on the left. Josh did as he was told which he was getting good at. He got to the main door but it was shut. He looked back at the officer who spoke into his communication device again, and again the door slid open. He went out and followed the directions he was given. Along the way he passed a few guards. Josh couldn't keep steady with them staring at him.

"Get in line on the left sir!" One of them barked. Josh could swear he saw a flash of what appeared to have been a good chunk of his childhood.

Then he got a brain zap. Like an electric shock in the brain. It made him fidget.

When he got to the elevator he noticed that there wasn't any buttons on it, just a key hole on the side. Josh looked around but saw nobody there. He looked up and saw a camera trained on him. He waved and gave it his best forced smile.

The elevator door opened and a voice scared him. "Get into the elevator sir." Josh had no idea where the voice was coming from but he did as he was told, again, because he was a pro at this. The door behind him shut and the elevator began its descent. After about half a minute Josh could feel the floor come to a stop and the doors behind him slid open.

When he looked around he saw Officer Daniels wearing a blue button up shirt and dress pants. His badge was displayed on his belt buckle. Josh felt nothing but contempt for the man and thought, for a split second, about charging him. He didn't however; he just stared dumbly at the man who had arrested him. Daniels smiled and motioned him to follow with his index finger. He turned around and Josh walked briskly behind. Halfway down the hall an officer told him to keep his hands behind his back. This irritated Josh but he did as he was told nonetheless.

Josh was led into a room with a two way mirror and a long folding card table. Two chairs were at opposite ends and Daniels motioned for him to sit down. Josh sat on one of his legs and looked around the bland looking room.

Daniels sat down across from him and crossed his arms. "Going through withdrawal yet?" He asked.

Josh nodded. "A little bit."

"Is the Clonadine helping any?"

Josh laughed. "I wouldn't be going through withdrawal if it weren't for you." He paused, and then added "Roger."

Daniels laughed, but it was a warm, nice laugh. There was no malice in there that Josh could hear. "Would you have stopped if we hadn't arrested you?"

"We?" Josh scoffed. "You were the one who did it."

"Yeah but..." Daniels waved his hand around the room. "It was a collaborative effort." His smile faded and he leaned in closer. "I want to talk to you about Bill Rumsfeld. Was he intoxicated when you last saw him?"

The mention of his former roommate was enough to make Josh's balls retreat up into his body. "Yes." He said quickly.

"Do you know on what?"

"Just alcohol, if you think he was on drug you're wrong. He was just a drunk." Josh shifted in his seat and sat on his other leg.

"Uh huh." Daniels smacked his lips and went on. "We were just concerned that drugs may have played a part in it all. When one person in a house does heroin there are usually others."

Josh laid his head on the table and closed his eyes. "No." He sighed. "Just me."

"Well we found some needles in your room." Daniels looked toward the mirror and checked his hair. "We're not going to charge you for that though."

Josh felt his eyes watering up. "Was it you who was at my house?"

"No, that was officer Jim Ronny. He took your roommate's deposition and was given permission to search the house. He only found the stuff in your room, which is good news for us." Daniels leaned in closer. "Do you know what tipped us off?"

Josh was crying now and he shook his head no.

"It was your eyes the night that Bill had his accident." Josh could just kill himself. "Plus I've been following you for some time now. I couldn't stand by and watch you ruin your life like you were doing."

Josh wiped his face but his arm was not a good towel. "As opposed to you ruining MY life?"

"I didn't ruin your life son. If anything I believe this will help you." Daniels searched his pockets for something that could be used as a tissue but could find none. He got up and told Josh that he'd be back and left the room. Josh did not dare try the door, which had a card key activator on it. Instead he stood up and wiped his face with his dark green denim shirt. He walked over to the mirror and inspected himself. He looked like shit. He was pale and sweating and he felt that he may throw up sometime soon, but he fought it back. Josh had to sit down again.

Josh wanted another Clonadine bad. How many hours had it been? The nurse told him that he'd get it every four hours or so until the worst was behind him. Was he going to miss his shot by being in here? He sat back down and laid his head down on the table, looking sideways at the nondescript room.

Was it just a minute or ten? Daniels hadn't come back, Josh was beginning to think he was going to be left in the room overnight or something until he heard the door lock switch. Daniels came in with some brown paper towels in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

He had another brain zap.

"I'm not supposed to do this so keep it on the down low OK?" He smiled and gave josh the Styrofoam coffee cup and paper towels. Josh took them and sat the cup to his side while he wiped his face dry.

He wadded up the paper towel and sat it by the coffee. He didn't even think about touching the stuff, he was starting to feel extremely ill.

"So am I going to prison?" Josh said meekly.

Daniels laughed. "Hell no son! Tomorrow you are going to drug court and will most likely be let out the following day to probation."

Josh groaned, another two days without heroin. "Will you guys give me some Clonadine to go home with?"

Daniels smile disappeared and was replaced with a grim expression. "Your roommate says he does not want you back. He can legally kick you out since you are not on the lease, but he said he will hold your stuff for a few days."

Josh sat frozen. He ran his fingers through his fading blue hair and sighed. "Where will I go?"

Daniels shook his head. "I don't know. I'm sure you'll find something."

Josh put his head back down on the green table. "You've ruined my life..."

Malcolm wanted to go visit Josh but the visiting hours were too rigid to get in on time. It's first come / first served and also he hadn't been fully booked in by the timeline. This irritated Malcolm to no end and he swore that if he ever found this Daniels (at least that's the name of the arresting officer on the police report) he would surely rip open his lungs.

Malcolm had driven home and walked back down to the police station, hoping to catch the blond officer as he left. He felt foolish sitting in the lobby and was sure that he would come out the back way or something. All around him were scruffy looking men, old women, and young children crying for their mommies or daddies or something to that like.

He had brought a book to read but was so far too captivated on the exit door. He knew that it was stupid to think he'd ever come this way and after about four hours, near midnight, he gave up and walked out of the police station. When he had asked what Josh would get for his arrest he was relieved when almost everyone said probation. He was scheduled for court in room 1H the next morning at seven am.

Malcolm decided to peruse the park again to see if anybody was there doing something bad. To his dismay it was deserted. The cops enforced the park curfew and it apparently had worked. This also irritated Malcolm because he was hungry. The last two people he had killed had not been on the menu. He supposed he'd just have to find a stranger and do what he does best. To hell with moral aptitude! He was going to feed and he didn't care who it was.

Although a homeless person would be best, no one cares about them. Malcolm walked up toward what the locals called "The Triangle" which was at the heart of Samaritan House and Jesus Saves. Both were homeless shelters and Jesus Saves also served breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Around the middle, which the sidewalk wraps around into a triangle, there were always homeless and crack addicts and hookers to prey on.

Malcolm walked toward the throngs of people standing / laying in the middle of the island. He looked around for someone perfect and could think of a few possibilities. He'd only been there five minutes and he was already being offered crack and a blow job.

The black lady offering the blow job stood about five ten and had a little spill over of skin on her jeans. She smelled awful to Malcolm but she was the best candidate so far. He motioned for her to walk to the side where it wasn't so crowded. She obliged.

When they were alone Malcolm asked "So you are giving blow jobs huh? How much?" He raised his brow trying to look interested.

The lady smiled. "For a handsome man like yourself?" She looked down at Malcolm's wrist watch and decided. "Fifty dollars."

Malcolm frowned. "Twenty five."

The lady turned around and started to walk away when Malcolm gave in and shouted for her to come back. "Fifty is fine I guess." He pulled out his wallet and flashed some hundred dollar bills in her face, whetting her appetite for the possibility that spending time with him could offer.

"We do it at my place though." Malcolm said as he handed her two twenties and a ten. "I live just up the street."

The lady took the money but shook her head. "I ain't been born yesterday son. I don't go off with no one I don't know."

Malcolm smiled. "We can't do it here."

"I got a place down the way. You got a phone?"

Malcolm pulled out his cell and waved it tauntingly in front of her. "Where is this place?"

She took the phone from his hand and began dialing a number. "It's just one of my daddy's. He's just up the street."

Malcolm was growing impatient. "I have a car you know."

She looked up from the phone and hit the cancel button. "Why didn't you say so honey? Let's go off. You lead the way." Malcolm led her down nearly three blocks before she got suspicious. "Where is this car?"

Malcolm paused and looked both ways at the traffic stop. "It's on Platte."

"No way, nuh uh." She shook her head in disgust. "I thought I told you we weren't going far out of the way. You aren't worth my time honey."

She turned around and started to head back when Malcolm called out "Please! I'll give you another hundred!" She looked back over at him, his face saddened with the prospect of losing her.

"A hundred?" She said in awe.

"Yes. Maybe more, please, I don't wanna be alone tonight." Malcolm extended his hand for her to take and she did. His massive hands engulfed hers and he led her down to 15th Street and up to Platte.

Josh just got back from the nurses office, his Clonadine fix satiated. He had never taken the pills before and they made it so he was nearly too light headed to stand straight. The pod officer had to help him up to his room and asked if he needed to see the nurse again. Josh thought about it but didn't like the idea of being away from a bed for any extended period of time when he was in a state like this. He politely declined and walked into his cell. It was past midnight and his cellmate was snoring heavily on the bottom bunk.

Hypocrite, Josh thought as he took off his shoes. He tried to pull himself up onto the top bunk but fell off due to his lack of motor skills. He bumped into his cellmate's side and immediately woke him up.

"What the hell man!?" He shouted.

"I'm sorry..." Josh mumbled. "It's the medicine they have me on. I'm just trying to get to my bunk." He tried and again he fell, this time on his ass. His roomie laughed and sat up in his bunk.

"Need help there captain?" He asked.

Josh didn't want to owe anybody a favor so he shook his head no. He got up a little too fast and he felt his head grow numb and the cell turned white. Josh sat back down and tried to let it pass but it took a while for it to do so. His cellmate was saying something but he couldn't make it out.

"What?" Josh quipped. The man cleared his throat.

"I said what's your name?"

Josh felt his head and was getting off on the tingling sensation all around his body. "Josh." He sat up on the floor but didn't dare go any further until the room stopped spinning. "You?"

"Name's Casey." The man held out his hand and Josh took it. He nearly crushed his hand in shaking but at least he was getting the feeling that Casey wasn't going to rape him. At least he hoped he wasn't. Didn't they say in those crime novels that it's always the ones who were nice to you?

Josh pushed it from his mind. "What are you in for?"

"Smacking my bitch up." Casey laughed. Josh immediately felt uneasy and tried to stand again. He went up slowly so he didn't get faint but it wasn't working. The man looked at him concerned. "You sure you don't need a little help there bro?"

Josh sat back down and gave up. "No. I'll just sleep here on the floor. It's good for my back." He lay out against the concrete and put his hands on his chest.

"You look like you belong in a casket lying that way."

Josh snorted. "I wish I were dead right now."

"Why? What got you in here?"

Josh sighed. "Drugs."

Casey threw his hands up in exasperation. "That's it!?" His voice was a near yell. "You'll be getting out in a couple of days! What are you complaining about!?"

Josh rubbed his eyes. "I suppose everything is out of proportion when your fucking dope sick..."

"So that's why you are so pale and green?"

"Yeah. This medicine they're giving me isn't helping matters much."

The man crossed his arms. "Clonadine?"

Josh didn't dare move, lest he vomit all over the floor and make the wife beater mad. "Yeah."

"You'll get over it. I was pretty messed up when I got here. I'm sure I'm going to stay a while too. I've got court in the morning, stupid state. They always take the bitches side!"

Josh thought about Cindy and felt a sharp pang of sadness. "Yeah."

Casey got up and pulled the mattress from the top bunk. "Get out of the way."

"What are you doing?" Josh got up and retreated to the corner.

"I'm gonna help you sleep." Casey said as he laid the mattress on the floor. Josh looked up, not really knowing what to expect from the man. When he merely stood there and waved his hand for him to get on he let his guard down and climbed on top of the sticky vinyl mattress. Josh's cold and clammy skin clung to it like saran wrap. He groaned.

"You'll be out soon. Don't worry. Just get some sleep." But Josh was already way ahead of him. He moved over to his side and Casey stood above him for a second before returning to his bunk. He noticed Josh's blanket on the floor and picked it up. Putting it on him went through his mind but only for a second. He decided to use it himself and made a make shift pillow out of it.

The hooker tasted weird. She was probably doing crack, speed, bath salts, or something, Malcolm thought as he drove up into the mountains to dump the body. He had thought about fucking her before feeding but opted instead for a blow job. She could barely fit him in her mouth and normally that would make his self esteem rise but the way she complained about his attributes just annoyed the fuck out of him.

He was certain she was thinking about robbing him because she carried a knife in her purse. Not just a switch blade but a big fucking hunting sort of knife. That irked him more than he wanted to admit to himself. Even though he couldn't die from getting stabbed he still hated having wounds that needed to heal. It just took too fucking long for him.

Malcolm kept thinking about the word 'fucking' a lot while with the prostitute. She was a filthy human and he was glad to shut her up. Not before he squirted semen all over her face that is. Before she could even wipe it off he went in for the kill. She of course cried out and he could feel her heart beat slow down with every liter drained. He shouldn't have pressed her face against his shoulder because he got his own seed on one of his nicer t-shirts. That stuff has a bleach like substance that stains almost any fabric it comes into contact with.

He couldn't wash it now so he threw it away. Stupid bitch, he thought.

Tomorrow was Josh's court date. He should be back into town before then.

Malcolm looked into the back seat and smiled. "Was it good for you?"

Cindy had been trying to call for almost twenty four hours but couldn't get a hold of Josh. She saw on the news that Bill had died in a car crash and had immediately gotten worried about his mental health. Not that he'd ever given her a reason to. Lord knows that he wasn't the most empathetic person in the world, still though. She was concerned.

She tried all morning before work but all her calls went directly to voice mail. She tried during breaks at work still to no avail.

It had crossed her mind that maybe he was arrested. But she did not know that all you had to do was call the police department and ask if a certain someone was an inmate in their system. She had never had a reason to do so before so she was at a loss somewhat.

Until he answered or his obituary showed up on her iPhone, she would just keep trying.

Maybe she thought, maybe he left town? She hadn't known him for too long.

Maybe he left town?

Chapter 10: The anti climactic trial

Josh was awoken yet again at nearly five thirty that morning. Still dizzy from the medications he stumbled to his feet when he heard the door open and his name being called. He put on his orange slip-ons and walked slowly and deliberately out of the cell. There was a new guard standing by near the steps. A tall muscular guy with a blond crew cut, Josh hated him immediately.

"You want some breakfast?" The guard asked, surprisingly gentle with his approach. Josh appreciated it but waved his hand to signify that he did not want anything that moment in time. He was barely able to keep the meds down let alone food. On the verge of dehydration, the nurse gave him Gatorade every time he came down to the nurse's station. He'd been somewhat successful at not throwing it up but lost the battle as many times as he won it. His blood pressure was still abnormally low, causing some concern but then again it was probably the Clonadine doing it. This is why he saw white when he stood up for too long.

And brain zaps. Every now and then he felt something like an electric shock inside his head. It ruined his vision for a few seconds and the withdrawal pains came back.

Josh vowed that if he ever got out of this intact he'd never touch that heroin shit ever again. Although those thoughts intermingled with the idea that he could just use a little when he got out, easing him out of the withdrawal.

Just a little bit...

Josh was told to sit down at one of the quadrant shaped tables that had fixed chairs attached to them. He sat down and laid his head on the table where he felt as if he could just melt into the furnishing. His thoughts were on nothing but the impending court date in just a few hours. He wondered if everyone was right, that he'd just get probation.

He hoped so.

The table had a checkers board built into it.

Rook to knight five.

Brain zap...

After about twenty minutes of waiting the guard told him to go to the door and wait outside in the hall. He did so and walked toward the entrance, the door slid open and he went out. The hall was cold and the walls appeared to be whiter than they were the day before. The air was stale and it made Josh's nose run.

Another guard, a shorter black guy came over and motioned for him to follow. He did as he was told (he was a professional at this by now, could charge by the hour if he so pleased!) and was led down the hallway and to the elevators. He said something into his receiver and the elevator door opened.

"Get in." he said. Josh walked into the large elevator and looked around as if he was just starting to clear his head. The whiteness overcame him and he had to sit down. The guard told him to stand up but Josh had to rest a second before continuing. The officer came in and pulled him up by the arm and told him to face away from him with his hands behind his back. Josh did not protest and secretly hoped that he would faint and show the guard a thing or two.

He did not however and stood where he did until he heard the door close. Josh felt the elevator descending and grew more nervous as the seconds passed by.

When the elevator stopped and the door opened behind him he was told to turn around and exit. Upon getting out he saw several other inmates in blue clothing standing facing the wall in front of him. Josh assumed that he was to go stand with them so he did so, the guard did not complain.

After about a minute of waiting they were told to move along down the hallway to where there were about three other officers waiting with ankle cuffs in their hands. Josh moved along toward them and stopped at a black officer who told him to turn around and put one leg up. He did and he got cuffed on that foot, then the other one. Josh wanted to know whether or not he was going to get his wrists cuffed but they never asked for his hands.

He thanked God for small miracles.

Malcolm waited outside the courtroom for about thirty minutes, surfing the internet on his phone, looking up facts about drug courts. From what he understood, at that moment in time there was only a hand full of these types of programs in the country. It was designed to get people off drugs and on track with life. Although it was still probation and incurred outrages costs to the probationee. He hoped that this would straighten Josh out.

Malcolm wanted to ask someone when and where he would be released. He assumed that they'd just let him go after this but he wasn't certain.

There were a few other people sitting on the bench next to him, one lady looked like she was strung out and she was picking at her face. Another was a man with a bushy beard and unruly hair. Two teenaged boys (at least they looked like teenagers) one of whom was reading a book while the other was also on his phone, which looked nicer than Malcolm's. It made him a little angry that the Droid two cell phone he brought with him was already outdated and he cursed Motorola for being so fucking trendy.

After about another five minutes a clerk unlocked the door and told them that they could now come inside. The courtroom was a big wooden area with nice pews and a modern looking judge bench. Computers lined it and Malcolm couldn't help but reminisce about the times in his life when he saw judges with simple looking quarters and used gavels. He wondered if this judge would bang a gavel after each case, it wasn't likely though.

After another ten or so minutes the inmates were led in through a door in the wall that blended in with the faux wood finish. It didn't even look like a door and Malcolm wouldn't of caught it otherwise. Five inmates were led in, two in blue and three in green. The last one through the door was Josh, his blue hair was fading back into its original blond. Malcolm waved hello but he was looking down toward his feet.

When he sat down he finally surveyed the courtroom and saw Malcolm. He wasn't sure whether to smile and wave or keep still. He opted to acknowledge him and waved with both his hands cuffed together. Malcolm waved back but a guard immediately came over to him and wagged his finger to say no he couldn't do that.

Josh sighed and went back to staring at the floor.

A short thin man in a brown suit walked up to Josh and sat beside him in the jury box bench. He had some papers and reached out his hand to shake. Josh wasn't sure whether he should or not seeing as his last attempt at communication was met with malice. The man took back his hand and introduced himself.

"Hello, my name is Max." He said. "I've been appointed as your public defender. You must be..." Max looked in his folder and pulled out a sheet of paper. "Josh Hardy right?" Josh nodded but said nothing. "Now here's the deal..." He began. "You're looking at two years probation in drug court. UAs and monthly check ins. It's not that big of a deal as long as you stay clean."

Josh looked up. "Is that all? What about fines?"

Max looked back into his folder and scanned another sheet of paper. "About two thousand dollars in fines. About two hundred for victim's costs and..."

Josh interrupted him. "Victim's what? I didn't do anything to anyone!"

Max smiled. "It's just standard. Do you need to know any more about the deal?"

"Is there anymore I need to know?"

"Not really. I mean, there is, but not anything too big that I think you couldn't handle."

Josh sighed. "How do I take the deal." He paused. "Anything I can do to make this a better deal?"

"This is about the best you'll get."

Another sigh. "Alright..."

Max took out a pen from his pocket and placed the sheet of paper on Josh's lap. "Sign here." He said, pointing to the signature line. Josh wanted to read the thing but felt as if time was short. He was right. As he was signing it the judge walked in.

"All rise!" The clerk bellowed.

They did as they were told and then the judge motioned for everyone to sit down. He was a pleasant looking old man. Bald and quite chubby. What little hair he had was gray and thinning further. He looked around the courtroom and smiled.

"Let's get this started." He said excitedly as he sat down.

The first two cases were the two blue inmates. The third was a guy in green.

"Mister Robertson." The judge sighed. "You have really messed up this time haven't you?"

"Sir, I didn't mean to do it. I've just been having a hard time as of late!" Robertson said.

"I told you the next time I see you in greens I'd send you away for ninety days." The judge was looking at something on his computer monitor and taking notes in a folder.

"Please sir. I have a job and a family to support!" He pleaded. "My mother is in the hospital and I had to have something to relax me!"

The judge smiled. "Mr. Robertson, I highly doubt that meth is in anyway relaxing."

Josh winced.

"Please sir! It was just one time!"

The judge looked down at his paperwork. "I know but last time it was just one time. And the time before that, and so on." He looked back up. "You've had many chances sir."

"Please! I need to feed my kids!"

"I don't know how you can when you spend all your money on meth. Mrs. Peterson, how does his UAs look?" He asked the clerk.

"All positive for methamphetamine for the last four times." Peterson said without taking his eyes off his computer monitor. The stenographer was typing away on her computer next to his. Josh was amazed how the scene was so modern looking. It was nothing like in a John Grisham book or any movie he'd seen.

"Oh God sir please!" Robertson was in tears now.

The judge grinned. "Ninety days." He said. "Next case..."

Robertson was led back to the bench.

The judge pulled out another file from the stack. "Josh Hardy, case number 33521b." He said as he used a grocery store bar code scanner to put the case file into his computer. Josh rose and looked around as if someone could help him avoid the firing squad. Max stood up along with him and led him to the podium. Josh walked to it and stared at his feet, not looking at the judge.

"Mister Hardy I'd like it if you looked at me." The judge said in a sweet low voice. Josh looked up.

"Judge," Max began, "Mister Hardy is willing to take the deal, he signed the papers and I think this is pretty open and shut." He said and walked up to where the judge sat on his elevated platform and handed him the sheet of paper that Josh had signed. The judge took it and looked it over.

"Very good." He laughed. "Now Mister Hardy, do you understand what you've just signed."

Josh spoke into the microphone. "Yes sir, I believe I do."

"Do you think you've had adequate counsel?"

Josh looked over to his right, Max was smiling. "Yes sir I think I did."

"You are being charged with a class one misdemeanor for possession of a controlled substance. How do you plead?"

Josh sighed. "Guilty."

"Do you understand the terms of your probation?"

"Yes sir."

"Do you understand that violating these terms could result in up to two years in jail?" His smile was warm but his demeanor was harsh.

"Yes sir..."

"You are ordered to pay up to two thousand two hundred dollars in fines and take UAs when instructed to?"

"I understand sir." Josh was again looking at his feet. His orange handcuffs were too tight and it bothered him. They had slapped them on at the last second instead of just doing it when they got their ankle cuffs.

"Are you under the influence of medication or drugs or have you been promised anything that may have effected your decision today?"

"No sir."

"Well then, I suppose you know what's next. You will be released tomorrow to probation. You will check in on the fifth floor at nine o'clock and sign in. You will be assigned a probation officer then."

"OK sir."

The judge smiled. "Good. Now you have a good day Mister Hardy. We will see you again on..." He looked at the clerk, who again did not look away from his computer screen.

"January fourth." Peterson said.

"January fourth." The judge said. "Thank you Mister Hardy." And with that Josh was led back to the pew.

Malcolm stood up and left the courtroom. Once out the door he checked his phone for any messages. None were there so he switched the ringer back on and headed down the hallway. Along the way he spotted that blond haired guy who arrested Josh standing by the entrance, talking to another officer. Daniels was in plain clothes and holding a cup of Starbucks coffee. Malcolm growled and walked by him. He figured the only way he'd come out was through the entrance. He would wait for him there.

Josh got back to his cell and the door closed behind him. His cell mate was gone and he savored the alone time. He laid back down on his matt and immediately fell asleep. He had a dream about using heroin in his old bathroom. It made him feel warm inside.

Chapter 11: Daniels gets PWNED!

Daniels had been in the court house to testify against a drug dealer named Buzz. Buzz was the worst kind of drug pusher he knew of, which is a meth dealer. Meth, unlike most other drugs (alcohol excluded) did horrendous things to your body and brain. It rots your teeth, it makes you lose weight alarmingly fast, you don't sleep, and it rots holes in your brain. Literal holes that can be shown on a cat scan, he read that on a poster over at a drug court probation officer's office. He thinks her name was Linda. She was hot. Maybe if he wasn't married...

Marriage, he thought, what a waste of time and resources. He sometimes wondered if humans could ever truly be monogamous. You can love more than one child. You can love more than one parent. You can even love more than one friend. But a lover you had to stay with. He figured this was some sort of Darwinian thing having to do with rearing a child until it was weaned. Human babies cannot live on their own and require the attention of parents to help them survive, unlike some animals which are born ready for the world.

Maybe it was something he read in a Richard Dawkins' book. He didn't quite agree on a lot of what he said about religion but he did think that evolution was a possibility, despite having grown up Catholic. There was just so much out there that contradicted itself with religion. However he held his faith despite over whelming evidence that suggested otherwise.

His grandfather had told him that when he went under for heart surgery he had a near death experience. The light, old loved ones, the whole nine yards. As a child Daniels had wanted so badly to have one of these experiences happen to him. He didn't understand why people were afraid of dying so much if they were going to go to heaven and live for all eternity with God. He used to think that you could have anything in heaven. All the hamburgers and chips and movies that you could ever want.

This was his fantasy up until the old man died of a heart attack. He was there in the room when it happened and it looked very, very painful. His grandfather clutched at his heart and began screaming for help. He sounded like a singer in a death metal band his voice was so scratched and blown. Then he fell to the floor and gyrated for about a minute before settling down and stopped breathing. Daniels was only twelve at the time and didn't know what to do. He just stood there dumbly while the man died in front of him. It was only after about five minutes (or an hour? Time goes so slow in those situations) that he picked up the phone and called 911.

A while ago he read that scientists had recreated the near death phenomenon in the lab by using electrodes to certain parts of the brain. The patients described in detail either floating above their body or seeing a white light and loved ones. It was very disheartening to learn. Somewhere deep down inside him something had come loose. A cog if you will, one that held the entire clockwork of his mind together. He started truly doubting that we went anywhere when we died.

All of those overdoses he had witness or bodies he had found were all just a waste of life. Knowing that God hates unbelievers most of all he became depressed and asked for him to guide him back to his former faith. This never happened and soon after he stopped going to mass, which Samantha was all for because she was a protestant and there wasn't much love for her at any Catholic church she went to. He always told her not to parade the fact around like a damn peacock but she was proud of her heritage and told the other church goers to stop feeling so damn guilty about everything. It's not like she practiced anyways, but he thinks it was yet one more thing to goad him on about. She was good at pressing his buttons.

How much longer could they last? Was there an advantage for a child to grow up in a loveless home? Where was the Darwinian sense in that?

Just thinking about all this made Daniels sad. He wanted so badly to be happy but nothing really helped him in the end. All that damn Catholic guilt his wife talked about was taking its toll on him. He was still upset with himself for not taking his son to the hockey game the other day and he had a nightmare the night before about him falling off of the merry go round.

At the hospital he didn't cry. He was beyond that and withdrew further into himself. He started working more and being homeless because he felt like a bad father. That little boy deserves better, he thought.

A beautiful woman like Samantha would easily find another boyfriend or husband. One that would take care of his son, love him like he couldn't do. Maybe take him to a protestant church. Something, anything, was better than what he could provide.

Daniels sighed and leaned against the front reception desk at the entrance of the courthouse. An officer started telling him about his gun obsession but Daniels had lost his concentration somewhere in between something about a hunting trip and killing an elk.

What a waste of life...

The man was still talking to him when he stood up straight and walked out the front exit. He didn't care if he was being an asshole right that moment and he needed desperately to go somewhere and think. Perhaps he could go back to the office and drown himself in paperwork. That would be nice but his brain needed a break after such a long month. He decided to go for a drive. Maybe he'd go to some far off Starbucks down in Golden or go up to Look Out Mountain. He decided that he would decide on the ride over.

He walked out of the courthouse lawn and to the south where his car was parked. He did not see Malcolm following behind him.

What luck Malcolm thought. He was going near where his car was parked. Daniels was walking toward the police station parking garage so he sprinted the other way down to his parking space a block down the road. When Daniels pulled out Malcolm wasn't too far behind.

Driving was calming Daniels nerves. He had since passed Denver and was heading toward Lakewood on his way to Golden. Perhaps he'd go out and have a private picnic in the mountains. The idea appealed to him so he began thinking about places where he could pick up some food. The idea of McDonald's wasn't too bad but he knew that walking and fast food don't mix, so he stopped by Tokyo Joes down at the Colorado Mills shopping center and picked up a chicken teriyaki bowl. It was rice with chicken strips on top, smothered in teriyaki sauce. It was the closest thing to healthy that he wanted to get.

He paid the cashier and waited by the front counter for his order to come up. A common dish like that only took but a minute to prepare and it was given to him with a smile and a good bye. He did not reciprocate and went on his way back to his car out in the parking lot.

Malcolm was watching a few rows away and when he got in his car and took off, he followed him all the way west on I70. He was speeding a little and this amused Malcolm, who was doing the speed limit. He didn't want to be pulled over, get a ticket, lose Daniels, and have to kill that cop for annoying him. Although he was a little hungry despite the fact that he had the hooker the night before, but she had to have been tainted with some sort of upper drug. She tasted like rusted copper, not good and it lingered on the palette.

Daniels turned off the exit to Look Out Mountain and drove up the steep mountain side road until he finally got to the parking area. There were no other cars there but he really didn't expect any to be in this cold weather. He parked and grabbed his jacket and food and got out of the car.

Malcolm's vehicle soon joined Daniels' car in the lot and Daniels was about to walk away when Malcolm pulled up. This surprised Daniels because he was hoping to be alone up there. He supposed that nothing can ever be perfect in his life so he just turned the other direction and headed along the path into the woods.

It was a nice, albeit cold Colorado day. The sun was shining bright yet it was so frigid. At least it wasn't windy. Daniels walked for a good half mile until he found a clearing big enough to sit on the side. He sat down on the right of the path and laid his bag down, taking out the contents. He took out a fork and opened the lid to his meal. The sauce was on the side so he poured that on and began eating. He wished he had brought his glasses.

A few minutes into his meal he heard footsteps. A few more and a tall young man with short spiky black hair walked up wearing a black Smiths t-shirt. The man smiled and waved at Daniels. Daniels did not smile but he waved. He recognized him from the car that pulled up beside his.

Malcolm walked over to Daniels. "How are you today?" he asked.

"Good, eating." Daniels said in between bites, not looking up from his meal. Malcolm smiled and stared off into the sun. He looked at his bare arms and was disappointed at being reminded how very pale he was. With a sigh he crouched beside Daniels.

"What are you eating?" Malcolm said with some enthusiasm.

Daniels put down his fork and looked up at him. "If you don't mind I'd like to be alone right now."

"I understand." Malcolm got up and threatened to walk away but he turned back around. "Gorgeous day don't you think?"

Daniels felt defeated and decided to play along. His lunch had just been ruined. "I guess so. God has given me many good days to be thankful for I suppose."

Malcolm walked back over to Daniels and sat beside him. He looked at the gun in his side holster. "Wow. I've never seen a fire arm before. What are you a cop?"

"Yes." Daniels looked down at what remained of his meal and sighed. "Yes I'm a cop."

"Wow..." Malcolm slapped his knee. "Have you ever used it on a bad guy before?"

Daniels shook his head. "No I haven't, thank God."

Malcolm gagged. "There you go with that God bullshit again!"

This caught Daniels off guard. "Well I suppose you are entitled to your opinions but please do not talk about him that way in front of me."

"OK." Malcolm said. "Hypothetically speaking, if there was a God (which there isn't) then how do you know it's a man?"

"The bible says that man is created in God's image. It says man so it's assumed that he's a male. Plus the bible doesn't take too kindly to women so I doubt it was a female who wrote it."

"But it was man who wrote it, not God. What if they were biased and got wrote it down the way they wanted it to be?"

Daniels was getting annoyed. "I don't think so. The bible is the bible and it's the word of God."

"But man wrote it." Malcolm said again, grinning. "Wasn't woman made from a rib or something silly like that?"

"Yes. Men have one less row on our rib cages."

Malcolm snorted. "That's got to be a myth."

"I've always heard it like that. It's what I learned in Sunday school."

Malcolm gave a tiny laugh. "They also said that Adam named all the animals. Do you believe in evolution?"

Daniels looked down at his knees. "I don't know."

"But there is so much evidence in it. Surely you must believe it somewhat?"

"Look..." Daniels said looking up. "I don't want to talk about this right now."

"Why would God give better eyes to an owl and not humans? Did he favor their sight to ours?"

"I don't know." Daniels grunted, throwing his arms up in defeat.

Malcolm looked back down at his gun. "Can you show me that thing?"

"What thing?"

"Your gun."

Daniels thought for a second. They were in the woods and no one else was around, still though he was hesitant. "I don't think so."

"Aw come on!"

Daniels took a deep breath. "I think I should be going now."

Malcolm grabbed Daniels by the arm. "I want to talk more about your God."

Daniels was taken aback by how strong the guy was. "Let go of me or I'll have you arrested!"

"Where are your cuffs?" Malcolm laughed. Daniels used his free hand to reach for his gun. Before he could take it out Malcolm twisted his other arm until he bent over. "What were you going to do? Shoot me?"

Malcolm let go and they both stood up quickly. Daniels reached for his gun and drew it out. Malcolm just stood three inches taller than he and grinned.

"Shoot me." Malcolm taunted. Daniels shouted something indecipherable and backed away with the gun pointed at Malcolm. Malcolm stepped forward and reached for the gun but Daniels pulled back before he could grab it. "Shoot me." Malcolm was laughing now.

"I will if you don't lie on the ground and put your hands behind your head!" Daniels screamed. Malcolm just went on smiling and reached for the gun again, and again Daniels pulled away. "I'm warning you!"

"Shoot me."

"I will! Don't think I won't!"

Malcolm stepped one step back and put his hands behind his back. He knelt down on the ground and laughed. "Where are your cuffs?"

Shit! thought Daniels, they were in his car! "I'm going to take you to my car and I'm going to take you in for assaulting a police officer!"

"Assault?" Malcolm stood back up. "You mean like this?" and he once again reached for the gun. Daniels lost his nerve and shot him square in the chest. Malcolm fell back onto the ground and closed his eyes. Daniels dropped his gun and put his hands on his face.

"OH GOD!" He cried out. He ran the few steps over to Malcolm and put his fingers on his jugular. No pulse. SHIT! He got up and paced around frantically for a few moments before he took off running toward his car. He had a half mile to go and there was a dead body in the middle of the woods!

He had not made it even a block's length away when a voice called out to him "You forgot your gun!" Daniels stopped and he felt his veins pump cold blood into his brain. He slowly turned around and he saw Malcolm facing him not even five feet away, holding his gun to his face.

"Surprised?" Malcolm smiled.

"How?" was all Daniels could say. Fear had paralyzed him.

"Easy." Malcolm said nonchalantly, using the gun to scratch the side of his head. "I'm already dead. Ever hear of vampires?" He stepped closer to Daniels. "BOO!" Malcolm shouted and Daniels fell backward onto the dried Earth below him. Malcolm giggled. "I'm going to break your legs sir." He bent down and put his free hand on Daniel's right shin. "Or do you want me to just shoot you in the head and get it over with?"

"Please don't kill me!" Daniels pleaded, shielding his face with his arms.

Malcolm got annoyed. "Why does everyone say that!? I thought you were going to go to heaven or something stupid like that?"

"Please don't!"

Malcolm let go of his leg and stood up. "I want you to strip down till you're naked."

"What?"

Malcolm shot the ground two inches from Daniels. "Shit! I missed!" He laughed. "Now strip! I want someone to find you dead and naked. I'm going to humiliate you like you did my little friend."

"Who?" Daniels had no idea who he was talking about. "I don't know what you are saying?"

"I think you do. Now get naked for me!"

Daniels slowly got up and undid his belt. He looked up at Malcolm who motioned with the gun to get a move on it. He threw the belt to the ground and took off his shirt. He had a little pudge but he'd never been ashamed of it until now. Malcolm whistled. Daniels took off his pants, revealing black and red Playboy boxers. He looked down at his lower body and looked back up, he had tears in his eyes.

"Please! I beg of you!" Daniels cried out.

"I didn't say to stop." Malcolm said in a sing song voice. Daniels took off his Reeboks and black argyle socks and put them to the side. He looked up again at Malcolm, hoping desperately that he'd stop this at any moment. He did not. Daniels slowly drew down his boxers to his ankles and kicked them to Malcolm's feet. He covered his private area and was full on crying then.

"Put your hands up. I want to see what you're packing." Malcolm said calmly, walking a step closer to Daniels and pointing the gun right in his face. Daniels did as he was told and closed his eyes. Malcolm whistled and laughed. "What is that? Like four inches?" It was a lie but Malcolm was enjoying it too much to say anything encouraging. "Now get in front of me and march until I say stop."

Daniels took a step forward and his foot landed on a sharp rock. He let out a pained wail and nearly fell over. Malcolm wasn't going to have any of it so he decided to get things rolling. He shot him in the left thigh and Daniels went down. He missed the artery down there but there was a lot of blood none the less.

"I want you to lay on your stomach now." Malcolm ordered. Daniels was fighting through the pain and turned around. He laid down on his stomach and felt the rough, cold dirt under him. He put his hands behind his head and waited. He heard a zipper unzipping and couldn't imagine what would come next. Then he felt something, a fleshy stick, caress his buttocks. Then Malcolm stuck it in him. Daniels cried out in pain and could feel himself being ripped open. He tried to squirm but Malcolm held him down with great force.

He thrust in and out and it seemed to hurt more and more every time Malcolm went deep. After a few minutes of unbearable torture he felt Malcolm convulse and he let out a long moan. Malcolm collapsed on top of his back and put in a few more thrusts before he felt him take his penis out of his colon. The pain lingered and Daniels was crying heavily.

"How did you like that fagot?" Malcolm said sternly and kicked Daniels in his side. "How do you like another man's cum inside your ass?" He shot Daniels' other leg and he wailed with horror. "I'm going to kill your family too."

"Please don't!" Daniels whimpered.

"Too bad you won't see them suffer." Malcolm said, putting the gun to Daniel's lower back. "Fagot." he added before he put a bullet into Daniel's lower spine. It was too much pain to do anything but hold his breath. Then another bullet went into his left lung. Daniels' mouth filled with blood and he started choking on it. Malcolm stepped in front of him and knelt down. "Fagot." He said again and sat down to watch Daniels die from asphyxiating on his own blood..

It took almost five minutes before he did.

There was no white light for Daniels.

Chapter 12: Now what do I do?

Josh had changed into his normal attire and had been put on a bus to go across the street to the probation office on Colfax. As he rode in the hot muggy vehicle he was still thinking about his withdrawal symptoms. They hadn't fully gone away yet.

I'll just use a few times to get through it... he thought to himself. It was the plan and he hoped he could stick with it.

When he got to the probation office he was led out and then led into a security check point where he had to remove his jacket and belt and put them into the scanner. He passed the metal detector with no problem and walked to the end of the conveyor belt to pick up his stuff. Then the guard who escorted him in gave him a baggie with his personal effects in it. Then he was led to an elevator and told to go to the fifth floor to check in. If he didn't there would be a warrant out for his arrest within twenty four hours.

They gave him the last dose he would ever get again that morning. He felt even fuzzier than he did when he first started the medication. There was a feeling that he might faint from standing up but he fought hard against it. The interior of the elevator was beginning to glow white. Josh almost felt as if he were tripping on the shiny metal walls around him.

He looked up at the floor numbers on top of the doors displayed in bright red LED lights. They were moving too fast for him and his stomach started to get queasy. Knowing full and well that he should get off on the fifth floor he waited for the numbers to signal his stop. It passed the fifth floor and went to the sixth. Then the seventh. He shut his eyes hard and when he opened them up he wasn't in the elevator anymore but back in his cell.

The man who was his roommate had been replaced by Jose. He was lying on the bottom bunk, fully awake, and smiling up at Josh. Could this be happening? he thought to himself. Jose got up and put his hands in his pocket. His dark green jail attire had morphed into his street clothes. At least he thought so. He wasn't so sure he was even wearing the greens at all now.

Jose sat up and patted the mat beside him where he sat. He was still smiling but it seemed to grow beyond his face like a demented Cheshire cat. His teeth were white and Josh couldn't remember if they ever were, he could of swore that they were yellow. Josh sat down beside him and Jose produced a needle out of nowhere. Josh took it and examined it for the longest time.

"He's breathing." a loud voice said from beyond the room. Josh wasn't sure who it was or why it was reverberating around the concrete walls so damn loudly. He looked back down in his hand and the needle was gone. He looked around and saw that Jose had vanished from his side.

The door opened. Josh instinctively got up and walked out of the cell. He saw the same black guard the day before but his face was featureless.

"Do you want some breakfast?" The officer's voice was so muffled that Josh couldn't really make too much out of what he was saying. Josh shook his head and walked down the metal stairs. He went to the exact same table he had sat at before and laid his head down.

His eyes opened and he saw a man's face above him. He was lying down, was this part of the dream too? Was he dreaming? What was going on?

"You hit your head pretty hard man." The man told him. Josh could barely make out what he was wearing. Everything had that same sickening white aura around it all. Josh felt a needle prick in his arm and somebody to the side of his said "I've got it!"

"You're going to be alright." The man said. Before Josh could ask what he meant by it he was in the courtroom again. Everything and everyone was going in fast motion. He felt like he was the only thing in the room going at normal speed. It made him sick.

Max sat down next to him and introduced himself. Josh told him that he already knew his name. With a blink he was back in his jail cell. He was lying on the floor and he had a pain in his arm. He could feel something warm dripping down it and he looked over to his right arm and saw that there was a needle stuck to a part of it that he knew wasn't a vein. Had he done this? He didn't feel high at all.

"Josh, are you OK?" Josh could faintly hear Malcolm's voice. He tried to respond but felt stuck to the floor as if gravity had a tremendous hold on him. As if he was being held down. He closed his eyes and when he opened them again he was staring up at Malcolm. Only he was shirtless and very, very skinny. Josh wanted to ask him how he got so emaciated but he couldn't speak. Malcolm took out a needle from nowhere and it was filled with a clear liquid.

"I'm going to give you some morphine for your head, OK?" Malcolm's lips moved but it was not his voice. It was the man's from earlier and it was gravely like his throat had a pound of sand running through it.

Josh took a deep breath and felt his head rush as if he had taken some heroin. When he was able to get back to what he was seeing he saw Malcolm stand up. Damn he's tall, he thought. Malcolm went for his belt and undid it. When his pants dropped he had the bottom half of a very familiar girl he knew. Josh admired it for a second then looked up again. Instead of seeing Malcolm's upper half he saw the rest of Cindy. Josh got an immediate hard on and was able to sit up again. When he looked back down at himself he saw that he had on no clothes. His penis felt like something hard was in the urethra. Like a long stick.

Cindy laughed and walked away. Again he was in his cell and he had on the greens. Josh started to feel very sick and could feel himself starting to heave. He gagged a few times and felt his body being pushed onto his side. He threw up shortly after and realized that he wasn't in his cell any more. He was on a hospital bed and had just thrown up on the floor. He felt dazed and very sick. When he went to lie on his back again he felt that same rod feeling thing in his penis and it hurt, but it also felt sort of good too. Josh had the feeling that he was urinating on himself for some reason.

The room wasn't a room at all that he could see. The partitions were bright blue curtains and when he looked over to his left he saw Malcolm standing over him, his hands on Josh's shoulder.

"I didn't want you to choke on your vomit." Malcolm said in a small scared voice. "So I turned you on your side and lifted your head. I'm sure someone will clean it up."

Weakly Josh asked "Where am I?"

Malcolm smiled. "Denver Health emergency room." His hand caressed Josh's forehead. Josh wanted him to take his fagot hand off of him but was too weak to take any action.

"Could you not touch me please?" Josh croaked. Malcolm withdrew his hand and sat in a chair next to the gurney. Josh looked back straight above him and was mesmerized by the fluorescent lights above him. "What happened?"

Malcolm sighed. "You passed out in the elevator. The door opened on the fifth floor where I was waiting for you and I saw that you had collapsed. I got you help as fast as I could."

Josh winced at a throbbing in his head. "My head hurts."

"Yeah." Malcolm stated. "You hit it pretty hard. The doctor was afraid that you had a concussion but the x-ray showed no signs of one. That's when you got some morphine you lucky bastard you!" Malcolm nudged Josh's arm but got no response from him.

"Why does my dick hurt?" Josh immediately hated himself for asking.

"Well..." Malcolm started. "They put a catheter in you. They had to do a urine analysis on you and couldn't very well get you to go for them while unconscious now could they?"

"Is it still necessary? Could you get someone to take it out?" Josh thought for a split second about it. "A girl." He smiled for the first time since coming too. Malcolm returned it and stood up. He winked at Josh, who winced, and left through the bright blue curtains.

Josh lifted up his sterile white blanket and sighed. He saw that he still had an erection and it hurt him because the catheter was rubbing in it dryly. He wished he could turn it off with a snap of his fingers. He wasn't too big, not small but average by most standards, so it didn't pitch that bad of a tent on his blanket. It somewhat blended in with the folds of the over lying sheets on top of him. He sighed and put down the blanket.

Malcolm came back in and smiled. "They said they'd do it as soon as possible." Then his demeanor changed a little, only a slight smirk remained. "But they say it's their policy that a male does it. I think it's something to do with sexual liability or something stupid like that."

Josh groaned. "This is just perfect... I lose my place to live AND some other dude gets to see my junk!"

Malcolm sat back down on the stool. "You need a place to stay? I told you before that I'm looking for a roommate."

Josh really didn't want to hear this from Malcolm but he thought to himself that his options were now limited as far as time was concerned. "I don't know..." He replied. Malcolm grinned and shook his head.

"I still have those kittens!" Malcolm proudly exclaimed. "Still haven't been able to find suitable homes for them yet."

Josh smiled just a little and turned his head to the side, facing Malcolm. "Cool, I guess." With a long sigh Josh turned back to look at the ceiling above him.

"You don't have to pay rent for the first month." Malcolm sighed with an air of resignation. "You probably lost your job right?"

"It's either I say I was a no call, no show or I tell them the truth..." Josh turned back over to look at Malcolm. "I can't tell them what happened, it would ruin my reference when I try to get another job." Josh almost felt like crying but did his best to keep a stoic composure.

"It's going to be alright man. Do you think Garrick kept your things?"

"I don't know. Him being a drunk I doubt he's had the time to throw anything of mine away."

"Well, my ex-roommate left his bed and stuff behind when he moved out."

"Why?"

"I didn't ask. He just up and left."

"Oh..."

A male nurse in blue scrubs came through the partition holding a thick needleless syringe in his hand. He was tall with black hair and slight facial fuzz on his chin. Malcolm wished he had been able to grow face hair during his life time. He was still able to grow his own hair but that's just because he was still growing body hair when he was alive. Being the undead sort of put a stop to all other growth at the time of death. He looked down at his longish fingernails and started to bite on his thumb, spitting out the discard onto the hospital floor.

The nurse smiled. "I'm gonna take that catheter out of you buddy."

Josh winced, he turned to Malcolm. "Could you leave us alone for a minute dude?"

Malcolm nodded and got up to leave, he secretly wanted to know what little old Josh was packing but thought better of it. He was about to get him to move in with him. He could see it on nature's own time.

The nurse advanced onto Josh and lifted his hospital sheets and gown. Josh still had an erection and his whole body went cold at the thought of the man seeing him like this.

"Happy to see me?" The nurse laughed.

"Fagot..." Josh uttered as he shut his eyes hard and waited for the relief that would soon come to him.

Chapter 13: What a lucky chapter number! Yay me!

Josh had not yet fully accepted Malcolm's offer and instead tried to reason with Garrick about letting him stay. Garrick had expressed that he was not going to have some fucking junky live in his house. He was the sole proprietor on the lease and he could of been arrested when those cops found his stash. At least that is his story.

Josh brought up the fact that Garrick is also an addict because he drinks so damn much. Garrick's defense was that it was legal, and none of Josh's damn business.

The words became scathing and fists were threatened to be thrown. Josh would of done something stupid if his own self preservation hadn't stopped him from trying to outmatch the six five, two hundred and thirty pound man. What Josh was good at was words, which Garrick knew little about. He was able to convince him to let him come back and get what he could from the kitchen that was his. Garrick reluctantly agreed and began hitting a pint of McCormack brand vodka. In an attempt at good will he offered some to Josh. He accepted and they each had half a bottle.

Josh not being the drinker he is, he got pretty damn tipsy on the half pint while Garrick, being bigger and a much more accomplished alcoholic, had just gotten a little buzz. This started up another fight where Garrick accused Josh of taking too much, even though it was him who had offered it to Josh in the first place.

Josh couldn't handle it and left. Using the directions Malcolm had given to him at the hospital he walked down to his place on Boulder and Platte, he was unsure whether or not he should do it though. That guy gave off a really weird vibe, but his options were next to nil.

With a sigh and a moment's consideration he walked into the building and went up to Malcolm's floor. He stared at his shoes as he walked to Malcolm's door and knocked on it hard three times. He waited for a few moments and knocked again. Frustrated he got out his phone and called him.

Malcolm had come through with his promise to kill Daniel's family. The wife was a lot of fun but the kid broke his heart. He had wanted to kill the boy in his sleep or maybe drug him into a calm over dose. But he broke his own rules and drank his blood. He was hungry and he'd already used Daniel's gun to kill Samantha. He couldn't drink on a dead person because once the heart stops there's no flowing blood anymore. And he had the hankering for something warm and viscous.

Malcolm had gotten a little of the red stuff on his new jean jacket. It looked like a ketchup stain so it didn't bother him much.

He took the keys from Samantha's purse and locked the house up when he left. Just as he was getting into his car two blocks down the road he heard his cell phone go off. Annoyed he picked it out of his pocket to see who the damn hell it was.

It was Josh. That did a complete turnaround to his mood. He smiled and answered it.

"Hey man! What's up?" Malcolm laughed.

On the other end Josh let out a guttural groan. "You said to come over anytime. I'm at your place and you aren't home are you?"

Malcolm felt a little guilty. "Well, I was visiting a friend downtown and things got a little out of hand. I lost track of time. I didn't expect you so soon."

"Well I'm here." A moment of silence followed. "I need to stay with you I guess. That asshole is just too assholey for me. Plus he thinks that my problem out shines his." Another pause "Fucking drunk."

"Well I can be there in about fifteen, twenty minutes if that's cool. Maybe I could take you out to lunch?"

"What little money I have I need to save for whatever may come up until I get a new job." Josh sighed.

"Well..." Malcolm hesitated for a second for dramatic effect. "It's my treat, to celebrate being new roomies."

Josh groaned. "Don't call us that. It sounds gay."

"OK..."

"But it would be cool I guess. Where do you have in mind?"

Malcolm started up his car. "I was thinking Sputniks. Have you ever had their grilled cheese sandwiches?"

"No..."

"Well they are awesome. Plus they have sweet potato fries that are just killer! I like getting the teriyaki dip with them."

"OK. What am I supposed to do in the mean time?"

Malcolm checked his blind spot and pulled out of his terrific parallel parking job. "Well, you can always go to Paris On The Platte and wait for me there. Maybe we can get some coffee before hand, although Sputnik has it as well."

"I don't care man. I'm not in the best of moods so anything will be exceptional." Malcolm could hear the disappointment in Josh's voice. It broke his heart a little to hear a person who he had deemed a good person to be upset.

"Give me fifteen / twenty minutes man. Wait for me there."

"OK." Josh hung up before Malcolm had the chance to reply, Malcolm hit his left hand hard on the steering wheel in frustration. He didn't want to be around any negativity but he felt an obligation to make Josh feel better. Josh feeling better could open him up a little, if he did then who knew what might happen. This thought brought a smile to his face.

They met at Paris on the Platte but left immediately for Sputniks on Ellsworth and Broadway. Malcolm became irate when he couldn't find a close parking spot and voiced his frustration vocally. It nearly frightened Josh due to Malcolm's intensity. He'd never heard a human growl like that before.

Finally they found a spot three blocks away. Josh opened and closed his door lightly while Malcolm slammed his shut. He stood there for a minute huffing at his bad luck and Josh immediately saw himself at a disadvantage if this man were to ever turn on him. He kept his thoughts to himself and hoped that Malcolm would soon calm down.

They walked the three blocks and the exercise seemed to be working wonders on Malcolm as he was soon joking around at the two block mark. This made Josh feel a little better but the sour taste of his tantrum gave him a feeling of unease. He played along though.

They reached Sputnik and found it to be a little crowded. Malcolm wondered if maybe they could go next door for sushi instead, but Josh voiced his dislike for the stuff.

"Have you ever tried it?" Malcolm asked, standing outside of Sputniks with Josh.

"Just the King Soopers stuff." Josh wished he had something to smoke and looked around nervously. "I suppose you're gonna tell me that what I had wasn't real sushi aren't ya?"

"Well," Malcolm began "it isn't to be truthful. What's the worst that could happen? If you don't like it then they have fish steaks and other cooked meats."

"Well... Do they have booze?"

"I thought you didn't drink?"

"Well, now that I'm sober and in a particularly bad space I think I need a few whatevers." Josh leaned against the blue brick wall outside of Sputnik. A very inebriated man who just walked out of the door commented on how cool Josh's blue hair was. Josh said thanks and was a little self conscious about it because it was fading pretty badly. It had taken up a light sky blue effect and he wanted badly to dye it dark blue again. Maybe red this time, but he knew that he had to save money and if his hair went back to blond then that was just tough shit for him he supposed. Josh sighed.

"I guess we can go next door. Although as I said I'm not a big oriental food fan." Josh said looking down at his black Converse white tipped shoes.

Malcolm looked back into Sputnik through its front window. He noted that there were a few seats available but with that much going on in there it would be hard to have the conversation that he desperately wanted from Josh.

He looked over at Go Fish, the sushi restaurant next door and saw that it had only a few people dining there. Malcolm smiled and held out his hand as if he wanted to lead the way for Josh. This confused Josh and he sneered at him for even thinking about such a thing.

"Let's just go there." Josh snorted, starting toward the other restaurant. Malcolm stood where he was for a second and found himself becoming sad and angry at himself. He was starting to get the idea that maybe Josh didn't like him all that much. He decided to push it out of his mind and followed Josh to Go Fish.

When they entered a nice young Asian man escorted them to their seats (a nice little table with a white cloth cover over it next to a man made water fall.) and gave them their menus. When asked what they wanted to drink Josh looked longingly at Malcolm for his input.

Malcolm smiled. "Just order whatever man."

"OK..." Josh stated. He looked up at the waiter and asked "What do you have that's alcoholic?"

The waiter smiled and nodded. "We have many drinks. Would you like the suggestion sake?"

"I don't know." Josh said hesitantly. "Do you have vodka?"

"Yes we have much vodka." The man's smile appeared to be surgically sewn onto his face.

Josh sighed and picked up his menu. "I suppose I'll have a Coke and vodka. Double."

The waiter nodded. "And you sir?" asking Malcolm.

Malcolm thought for a second and decided that he might as well come off nice to his good friend. "I'll have the same."

"Very good." The man nodded again and left them by themselves. Josh leaned against the back of his chair and cracked his knuckles. Then he cracked the individual joints in each of his fingers. Malcolm winced at the sound seeing as his hearing had forever been amplified since turning when he was nearly dead at twenty one. It was one of the more annoying parts about being immortal.

"So..." Josh began "what's good?" He looked at the menu but it might as well be written in Swahili.

Malcolm opened his menu and a piece of paper fell out with a list of available sushi pieces that one could order. He remembered the deal of the day outside that advertised that you could get three rolls, salmon, California, and unagi (eel) for thirteen bucks. He looked at the prices of the individual pieces and couldn't help but cringe.

"This shit is way expensive!" Josh said. "Are you sure you want to eat here?"

Malcolm looked up from his menu and said "If we get that deal they have outside the window I think we'll come through alright." Malcolm put his menu down and locked eyes with Josh. This made him a little uncomfortable and he looked away.

"I need to call my girlfriend and let her know I'm OK." Josh said, staring at the waterfall next to him. He could feel a slight coolness emanating from it that gave him goose bumps on his arms.

"OK." Malcolm said quickly and looked over his shoulder at the sushi bar. The waiter was already on his way to the table with the drinks. When he arrived he placed each one before the two men and nodded, he had the same smile he did when they first came in.

"You want order now?" The waiter said kindly.

"Yeah." Malcolm said. "We want two of those sushi deals that you have outside."

"Three roll?"

"Yes." Malcolm turned to look at Josh, who was perusing his phone for something. "Is that OK with you Josh?"

Josh did not look up. "Yeah, whatever man."

Malcolm looked back toward the waiter and smiled. "I guess our minds are made up dude."

The waiter smiled and nodded again and took the menus from the table. Malcolm looked back at Josh, who was still looking at something or other on his phone, and he felt himself get a little temperamental. He wasn't being paid attention to and that irked him to no end. Especially if his affection was being lost to some girl that probably had small breasts and treated him badly.

"What's her name?" Malcolm asked, trying to be civil.

Josh looked up and cocked his head a little. Then he smiled. "Her name is Cindy. She's really cool. You'd like her."

I fucking bet I would, Malcolm thought to himself. He put one arm on the table and balanced his head on it. He began to lightly drum on the table with his other hand's fingers. Josh saw that his extremities were a little disproportionate and wondered if he should ask about it. Josh was certain that the man had to have some sort of growth disorder or something.

In the end curiosity won him over. "Hey man, don't mind me asking, but do you have some sort of growth thing or something?"

Malcolm could have been angry at him asking such a stupid question but he felt like it was the first personal thing that Josh had asked him. He was more than happy to oblige, even if it was a rude thing to ask.

"I think I have hand-foot-genital syndrome." Malcolm said, still balancing himself on his arm and drumming his fingers on the table. He looked back behind him and saw the sushi chef working hard on something. He hoped it was their food. Malcolm had not eaten human food in about a day and that was a separate hunger that needed to be quenched aside from the one that really sustained him.

"What's that?" Josh asked, taking the first sip of his cocktail.

Malcolm sighed and looked back over toward Josh. "It's when your limbs and shit get long and you get tall. That coupled with it coming with extreme thinness pretty much excludes me from most people who think I look weird."

"I don't think you look weird per say, but you are pretty tall and everything on you seems long." Josh took another sip and placed his drink on the table. He looked back up and grinned like a madman. He had to ask, "does that include your dick too?"

Malcolm smiled, now they were getting somewhere! "Yeah. I have a really huge cock." He was beaming with the thought that Josh had asked this in hopes of seeing it sometime.

Josh laughed. "I bet all the chicks like fucking you!"

Malcolm's smile disappeared and was replaced by a long frown. "Actually I don't get much play because of it. It's mostly guys who want a bigger penis, not the other way around. Girls (and guys, he thought to himself) tend to not want me because I hurt them too much."

Josh cocked his head again and had an expression of bewilderment. "I bet it's still nice though, having a huge dick and all. I'm sure girls secretly want it."

Malcolm sighed and drank half of his cocktail in three long gulps. He sat it back on the table and wiped his lips with his forearm. "No. They don't. Do you have a small dick or something? Is that why you're so interested?" It was Malcolm's turn to ask a humiliating question. He savored the shocked look on Josh's face. He knew that he had asked it in reference to what he thought girls wanted and him even suggesting that when he was in fact into Josh made it all the more frustrating.

Josh was blushing something bad after a few seconds of hesitation. "No... I've been told I am a good size. I'm not going to win any ribbons but I've never had a complaint." Josh took a big sip of his drink and could feel the alcohol working its way up to his brain. "Cindy seems to like it."

Malcolm let out another long sigh and was trying desperately to think of something to say that wouldn't make this any more awkward than it had already become. He finished off his drink and tried to act more manly by letting out a long masculine burp. All that came out was a quick and thin sounding belch. Immediately he wished he had kept it in.

Josh took another drink and then burped himself. It was longer and louder than Malcolm's and he felt a little inadequate as far as his manliness was concerned compared to Josh. He had the feeling that the guy could win points for being as heterosexual as he was. Malcolm hated himself for being so attracted to the guy but kept a straight poker face in light of his feelings.

Finally the food came. "Here you go." The waiter said cheerfully as he placed the two large sushi platters before both Josh and Malcolm. Malcolm was relieved and hoped that a change of subject would surely ensue.

Josh looked down at his plate like it was full of bubonic plague carrying rats. He looked back up at Malcolm for guidance. "What is all of this stuff?"

Malcolm smiled and took out his chopsticks and broke them into two long pieces. He pointed first to the California roll. "That's called a California roll. It's crab meat with avocado and carrots." Then he turned his attention toward the salmon. "This is a salmon roll, it has salmon and avocado." Josh didn't seem too disgusted but he looked a little uneasy. Malcolm continued. "This is the eel roll." He pointed to the rice roll with brown meat inside and covered with teriyaki sauce. Josh made a gagging gesture that made Malcolm a little nervous that maybe he should have gotten him something more American. He persisted and ignored Josh. "It's called unagi. It has the taste of chicken but the texture of fish. Try it! It's really sweet and it goes down easier than you'd think."

Josh poked at it with his right index finger and then took out the chopsticks from its paper container. Malcolm smiled and shook his head, laying down his own chopsticks next to his plate.

"Eating sushi with chopsticks is actually an American thing." Malcolm said, picking up a piece of California roll with his fingers. "In Japan this is all finger food."

Josh seemed to let out a sigh of relief. "Good. I can't use these things worth shit to save my life." He put them aside and picked up a piece of unagi roll. He looked at Josh as if he were going to barf but he bravely stuck it in his mouth and started chewing. He swallowed it and Malcolm wasn't sure if his face showed neutrality or disgust. To his surprised Josh gave a crooked little smile. "It's not too bad I guess. A little sweet for me but not too bad."

Malcolm was pleased that he had made a new convert. "I told you so." He began eating what was on his plate a little faster than Josh was. Malcolm showed him what the soy sauce and wasabi was for. Josh liked the soy sauce but coughed violently when he added wasabi to one of his pieces. Malcolm was amused that it brought tears to Josh's eyes.

"I'm not sad," Josh said sarcastically. "I swear I'm not. I just got something in my eyes!" He smiled and Malcolm laughed. "So what are the other examples of things that come along with this syndrome?"

Malcolm was concentrating on his plate and wasn't quite sure the question deserved an answer, but he did anyways. "Little feet for the height one stands."

Josh looked puzzled. "Like what?"

Malcolm wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin that had been set aside for him and he answered. "I wear size nine and a half to size ten shoes."

Josh laughed. "Man, I am way shorter than you and I have size eleven."

"Yeah... Sometimes keeping my balance is hard but I've learned to deal with it. Also there is a risk for tall people having bad hearts due to the increased work load."

"So you're afraid you are going to die or something?"

Malcolm grinned. "Not anymore I don't. Thanks to self denial I'm going to live forever!"

Josh cocked his head again but smiled none the less. "We should get another drink and toast to our immortality." He got up and went to the sushi bar to get the waiter. Malcolm stayed behind and paid him no attention, finished the last of his California rolls. When Josh came back he looked like he wanted to ask something but didn't know what to say.

"What's up?" Malcolm said with a mouthful of sushi.

"What is sake?" Josh asked.

"Japanese rice wine. Good stuff." He paused. "Was that something you ordered or was it something that he suggested?"

"He did."

Malcolm sighed. "Well just to let you know for future reference that the serving sizes are very small. If you want to get drunk you may want to spend my money a little more wisely next time by getting a double whatever and lay off the small stuff." Malcolm caught himself. "But it IS pretty strong. I don't know how your system works so I'd just wait and find out I suppose."

The waiter brought over the saki in two tiny little hand cups and nodded as he turned around to leave. Josh looked down at the serving size with disappointment. He sighed and picked up the cup and took a sip. His mouth immediately puckered and he placed it back on the table. It was both sweet and very bitter at the same time, an odd combination.

Malcolm smiled and took a sip of his. He immediately knew why Josh had reacted the way he did. The stuff WAS strong. "Might just be the brand I think." He offered as he took another heavy sip.

Josh completed his drink with two big gulps and put the small cup on the table, he looked like he was going to gag but stopped himself from doing so. "So do you really think you have this thing? Are you sure you're not just tall and hung?"

"I don't know... From what I've read about it, it sounds like me. Although Wikipedia uses terms that I can't understand and I'm not sure if a urethra means big or small."

"You've never looked it up?"

Malcolm felt a little stupid for not doing so; he just faced toward his food and concentrated on what was left of the meal. "I always mean to but I haven't yet. This is just a recent theory mind you. Another possibility is Marfan syndrome."

"What does that mean?"

"Tall everything. And it has the most ripe conditions for heart problems."

"Well wouldn't you have gotten seen by a doctor when you were little? Couldn't they have tested you or something?"

Yeah right, Malcolm thought, test me for what exactly in the seventeen hundreds?

Malcolm snorted. "I was raised on never going to the doctor. My parents and the people around me told me that God would take care of me if I believed hard enough."

Josh looked confused. "Isn't that child neglect?"

"Not where I come from. Are you going to eat the rest of that?" Malcolm pointed to the eight pieces that Josh had left.

Josh shook his head. "I'm so fucking full man." He said and pushed his plate toward Malcolm. Malcolm took it and put the remaining pieces onto his plate and set the empty one aside.

Josh took a deep breath. "Do you think I fucked up my probation by not meeting with the officer?"

Malcolm was halfway through chewing his food and had to take a second to finish it before answering. "They told me that as long as you show up tomorrow with your discharge paperwork then you'd be OK."

Josh looked relieved. "Cool. How about we get another drink?"

As he stood up to go back to the bar Malcolm interjected. "Make it a double something. Don't get any more sake!"

That night Josh slept on Malcolm's futon. He didn't want to be in his ex-roommates room for reasons he just couldn't justify. The futon folded out into a bed and he spent the better part of trying to go to bed watching Sunshine. The movie made him a little uneasy because of its atheistic undertones. Something like the sun would never really die out, would it? He thought that humans had their place in the universe and something had to create, commandeer, and look after everyone and everything. Josh remembered in school learning about how the sun would die out in ten billion years. What scared him most was that they said in a mere fifty million years the sun would convert a ton of its hydrogen into helium, causing it to glow brighter and basically stripping the planet of its water and atmosphere.

Could we really have only that much time left? He thought sadly. Where was God in all of this? He wasn't a practicing Methodist anymore but the ideals still kept with him throughout the years. What disturbed him most about Malcolm was the idea that he might be homosexual. He knew deep down that a person can't control it but in his heart he felt like God would punish such a person as referenced in Leviticus. He didn't want to be around when such a punishment was given, especially if he ever got emotionally attached to the person.

Plus he just didn't like the idea of a gay dude hitting on him. He felt like this would violate his manhood.

Josh thought briefly about calling Cindy over for some companionship but he thought against it because he had not asked Malcolm seeing as this is technically still his home. He cried a little at his isolation and eventually falling asleep sometime after the movie had ended.

He did not dream that night.

Malcolm couldn't sleep so he decided to come out of his room and check on Josh. He was sleeping with only his bright red boxers on and had no blanket over him. Before Malcolm did anything he stared some at Josh's toned body. It made him sad that he was so skinny. When he was alive he may have been imposing but he couldn't fight worth shit. If he could maybe he would had died a natural life instead of succumbing to that mob of angry Protestant assholes.

To imagine that it took three hundred years for things to change where homosexuality wasn't punished but embraced by most industrialized countries made him a little angry at being born during such a time. And that he had fallen in love with a black man made things that much worse at the time.

Malcolm didn't want to think about it. He looked Josh over once more and went to his closet to find him a blanket. He found a nice big quilt that depicted scenes of Japanese customs and geisha girls in white. It was a neat little thing and he admired it for a few moments before he left back towards the living room.

Josh was snoring by the time he got there and he couldn't help but think of it as the cutest thing. It wasn't loud but sort of like a soft diesel engine that had been on for a few hours. Malcolm spread out the quilt and placed it on top of Josh's nearly naked body. As he did so the snoring stopped and Josh sleepily opened his eyes.

"Hey man..." Josh yawned.

"Hi." Malcolm adjusted the quilt and stood back. "Just thought you were a little cold is all."

"I guess." Josh closed his eyes again. Malcolm took this as a sign to leave but Josh said something to him that he didn't quite catch.

"What'd you say man?" Malcolm turned around and asked.

"I was asking you if you had a shitty childhood too."

"Oh..." Malcolm couldn't divulge his past but he had constructed a fake one for just such occasions. "It wasn't too bad I suppose."

"Oh OK." Josh turned on his back and stared at the ceiling.

"Why? Did you?"

"It wasn't too bad I suppose." Josh said blankly.

"You want to talk about it?"

Josh placed his hands in the back of his head. "Nah. Maybe some other time when we get to know each other better."

"OK." Malcolm made a move to leave the living room but Josh stopped him again.

"Hey man..." Josh turned back over facing Malcolm. "Are you sure all of this is cool? You know what I have done in the past?"

"I have a good idea." Malcolm replied softly, almost as if he were a caring mother.

"And you're cool with me staying here?"

Malcolm shrugged. "I suppose we are friends. Friends help out friends. I care for you a lot as a person."

Josh blinked stupidly. "I got to ask you something."

"Yes?"

"Are you gay?"

Malcolm sighed and debated on whether or not to tell him the truth. In the end he felt like he owed Josh a legitimate answer. "I'm actually bi."

Josh rolled over on his back and took a deep breath. "Do you like me in that way? It's cool if you do, just understand that I can't be anything more to you then what I am right now I suppose."

Malcolm sat down on his knees and traced an outline of a circle in the shag carpeting. "I think you are cute, yes. But I know that you are who you are and I hold no ill will towards that." Malcolm sighed. "But I'm not attracted to you per say. I just think you have something cool to offer me within my life."

"Oh..." Josh was momentarily out of appropriate things to say. When it came to him he said "It's cool. Just as long as we know each other's place."

"I suppose." Malcolm said sadly.

Josh turned back over again. "I think you are cool. I have never tried sushi before today and I just think that was cool of you, seeing as you brought me there, bought the food, and bought me some drinks."

Malcolm smiled. "No problem man. As I said I'm just trying to help a friend out."

Josh returned the smile, albeit weaker than Malcolm's wide grin. "Thanks."

Malcolm got up. "No problem..." He said softly and without emotion as he turned around to go back to his room. Halfway there he turned around, expecting Josh to say something more, hoping he would, but he had his eyes closed and Malcolm could see his expansive chest heaving up and down with a sort of slow rhythm, as if he were breathing to a metronome. Malcolm felt sad and he went back to his room and closed the door.

He took off his shirt and pants and lay on his bed over the blanket. Hugging the single pillow he had in the room he began to cry dryly. He hoped that the relationship would get better but he was starting to have his doubts. He still wanted Josh around and wanted to help him.

That is... If he could help himself.

Then the real tears came and he cried until he finally fell asleep. Like Josh, he had no dreams that night.

When Malcolm awoke the next morning his first thoughts were on the kittens in the box in the living room. Had he fed them yesterday? He was sure he had. It was such a busy time for him what with helping Josh out and all.

He arose wearing nothing but his boxers and staggered to the bathroom adjoining his bedroom and urinated. Something about all that vampire lore bullshit said that vampires do not make waste. How was that? Does the blood they drink magically disappear inside them and go away into nothingness? Malcolm cringed at all those movies and books which suggested this. He in fact enjoyed having to use the restroom. It signified to him that there was still a little bit of humanity left in him.

The only thing he didn't understand about himself was:

a: Why he had no heart beat, yet he could still bleed and pump blood throughout his body.

b: Why in the hell did he crave and / or need blood so badly? He's never tried to go without it and wondered what would happen if he did. There had been a little experiment during the American Civil War that he had done where he abstained for a week. The result was pain and aching all over his body. The idea of death intrigued him but also the thought of going through so much pain deterred him from ever trying it again. Besides, when he killed someone right after the fasting it tasted better than anyone's blood had tasted ever since. It was like someone who was dying of thirst in the desert finding a Starbucks and had gotten a complimentary Venti cup of ice water.

Malcolm was at least happy about the fact that he had no reason to shave, although his pale skin bothered him a great deal. He normally told people that he had a rare form of albinism. Although he was pretty damn pale when he was alive too, his father and mother had come from Europe right before he was born.

What made him think that he had some sort of disorder in reference to his height and other bodily abnormalities was because his father was only five seven, and his mother five two. He certainly didn't get it from them. In fact one of the things his father teased him about was the size of his penis, which he had saw when a dog had ripped his pants apart because Malcolm was carrying some dried meat to town while walking with him. His words hurt him and he supposed that his insecurities about his anatomy came from the comment that he would never obtain a wife with a penis that big. Or if he did, on his wedding night she would refuse to sleep with him.

Like a good Christian he abstained from sex until he was married at age sixteen. His wife had had some trouble getting it into her (Like him, she was a virgin as per customs at the time) but after a while she grew to enjoy it. This bothered Malcolm a great deal because enjoying sex was supposed to be sinful. If God created it to be fun to do then why would he make it such a sinful activity? He supposed one reason for the chastity thing among the church was because you had to pay them to get married. It's all about the money now that he thinks about it. In fact in the olden times you were told you would go to hell if you did not give your weekly tithe. The church had many of such money making schemes including Indulgences. These were where you paid to take off a certain number of days you would spend in purgatory while your soul was being cleansed and prepped for heaven.

Wait... No, that was Catholicism? Right? Well anyways, his church at the time indulged in that sort of rip off.

Malcolm growled and went for the bathroom cabinet to get his tooth brush. He'd had his teeth whitened a few times because they got so yellow from all the blood he drank. Sometimes they would be made to look dark and blackish for a while if he let it sit there and settle.

He brushed his teeth and washed his mouth out with some peppermint Scope. After he spit he drank a little of it since the main ingredient was alcohol. It's not the best way to catch a buzz but it worked.

He had also always thought about how in the hell he could react to such drugs like alcohol and pain killers. Malcolm could see the allure in being a heroin junkie but for the life of him he couldn't figure out why someone could give up everything they had for a shot?

Stupid people...

He walked out into the living room to check on Josh. Upon first inspection of his futon he did not see him there where he had passed out the night before. He went into the kitchen and saw a box of cereal open on the counter and one of his white dishes, with a spoon, in the sink soaking up some soapy water.

Malcolm decided to check out Harold's old room and walked back into the hallway. He put his ear to the large wooden door and tried to hear any sort of breathing or snoring that would be emanating from the room if he was in fact in the bed asleep. But nothing was heard. He opened the door slowly and found the bed still made up and everything was still untouched as it had been the day Malcolm had cleaned the room in hopes of attracting a new roommate.

Malcolm closed the door and leaned against the hallway wall. He put his hand on his head and sighed in frustration. He had the thought that Josh may be out scoring drugs (or maybe over at that slut, Cindy's place). What he hoped though was that he was either looking for a job or even reconciling his position at the Jumping Bean coffee shop. That would be cool, but he wasn't about to give a junkie the benefit of a doubt.

He would be able to tell what had gone on during his time away when he got back. Either his eyes would be pinned or he'd smell like pussy or coffee. He wanted the latter to come to fruition because the very idea of him getting high or fucking some stupid chick made him ball up his fists and punch the wall beside him, leaving an indentation on the white paint.

Chapter 14: Fucking Cindy and getting way wasted

Two of Malcolm's fears had come true that morning. First off he had gone down to Civic Center Park and scored two dime backs of heroin (and a dime of coke) and walked the way toward the pharmacy ten or so blocks away where he could get a needle for just twenty five cents. He was through most of the bad withdrawal symptoms but the craving had become unbearable when he had awoken at five am that morning. After seven am came and passed he got up, made himself some breakfast, and headed out to quench his thirst for opiates.

He did not have his works with him seeing as they were confiscated by that bastard undercover guy, but he was resourceful. Josh went to a coffee shop near the pharmacy and paid fifty cents for a cup of hot water. Once he obtained that he went outside in search of a cigarette but which could be used as a filter. That was the easiest part.

Once he got everything he needed he walked a few blocks up Colfax and into the Burger King that was to the right going east. He didn't even ask if he could use the restroom seeing as they most likely didn't care and got a lot of non paying strangers visiting the latrine all day long.

Josh locked himself in the stall and placed the cup of hot water on the floor. He fished out the balloons from his pocket and put one of the heroin baggies back in. He placed them on his lap and went to work opening the heroin. He put the excess layers in the toilet for later flushing and then opened the coke balloon. He kept them on his pants and reached down to get the hot water. He opened up the needle wrapper and put that in the toilet also.

Josh sighed... Was he really doing this again after he had promised himself not to? He hated himself but he trekked on anyways. Josh took the lid off of the cup and drew up some of the hot water into the needle, about sixty mgs of it. He then placed the cup back on the floor but kept the lid on his lap. He put the heroin in the cup lid first and squirted the hot water over it. It immediately started to form tendrils of dark brown in the water and he took out the plunger from the needle and began to stir. The main problem about doing it this way was that it took forever for it to melt. You can also melt it in cold water but that took even MORE time!

Josh finally got it all dissolved and then put the contents of the white plastic strip of coke into the mix. Melting coke in water only took a few seconds, especially if it's mostly pure. It did and he put the plunger back into the syringe. He took out the cigarette filter and tore it open and took out a small piece of its tar stained cotton. He balled it up and placed it in the mix in the cup lid. Josh put the needle tip on the cotton and drew up.

He wasn't sure if he was wearing a belt but he could always just take off his hoodie and use the tie string and use it as a tourniquet. He put the now empty lid back onto the cup of scolding water and checked to see if he had remembered to put on a belt that morning. To his surprise he was wearing one. One with that was black with white hearts running down it. He then wanted to smack himself because he wasted precious concern about something he was wearing the day before.

No matter...

Josh took off his belt and fastened it around his left arm. A nice big hand vein popped out immediately and he drove the needle into it. When he pulled back nothing came up, so he dug a little deeper and to the right until blood spurted up into the syringe. Then he pressed down on the plunger.

The thing about doing heroin and coke is, you felt the effects of both simultaneously. The first feeling you got was from the heroin itself. The locking up and then release that your body felt. The immense head rush of it. Then not even half a second later your jaw goes numb and you mind draws a blank. Josh felt this all about a second or two after injecting. He became instantly scared that he was going to pass out in the bathroom but that turned out to be unfounded.

The needle stuck to his left hand like a parasite. Josh waited about a minute to take it out because the effect was so damn good that he did not want to fuck it all up by moving any. He bit his tongue a few times and marveled at the feeling of numbness in his mouth. Smiling, he took the needle out and took the lid back off of the cup. He drew up some hot water which mixed with the residual blood and squirted it out into the toilet beneath him.

Josh sat for a few minutes more, enjoying the buzz he was getting. His jaw was still numb and he licked the top part of his mouth and felt shocks of pleasure run throughout his head.

He didn't know if he should keep the needle or not. He at that moment had decided not to use again for a while, but out of habit he put the needle cap back on the syringe and stuffed it into his pocket. The remnants of the water cup went into the toilet with all the plastic wrapping. The cotton was also saved because of habit.

Sometimes if the cotton was big enough it would have some left over stuff in it that you could soak and take just a tiny bit out as a result. This is what they call a rinse. Josh had the extra heroin balloon and would use the same cotton to draw it up later, thus strengthening his future rinse.

Josh finally got up and picked the empty cup off of the ground. He opened the stall and threw away the container into the trash bin by the sink.

Malcolm had gotten worried enough to go looking for Josh at the park. He waited there for almost two hours until he got the idea that if Josh had wanted to go there, then he would of as soon as he had left the house. He did not know where Cindy lived so he couldn't check up on him there.

The thought of him fucking Cindy made his cold blood boil. He knew he could never consensually have him but a little part of him held out for such a possibility. Malcolm had a vague idea that Josh would be nonnegotiable on the subject. This made him sadder than he'd like to admit. He was the first guy in a while that had held his interest as he did. It was just depressing to think about it.

He wished he was like one of those vampires you read in some of Bram Stoker's stories where the said vampire had neither empathy nor emotion for his subject. All that would count was the bottom line, blood. But instead he still had his heart intact and was subject to all of the emotions of a hopeless romantic. Everything fell apart for him when it concerned the person he cared about. He wanted to believe that Josh would keep the promise that he would never touch that heroin shit again, not that he denied the validity of such an addiction, he just didn't like seeing people he liked to be dependent on something that caused you to lie, cheat, and steal, thus ruining any such idealistic thing like leading an honest life.

Malcolm sighed and went over to a tree where there was some shade. He had long since lost the ability to sweat but just like the night, the shade offered some coolness in the bright sun. It was cold out today but he felt things could always get colder. He didn't so much as sweat during the summer as he did condensate, like a cold glass of iced water in a hot room.

He lay down beneath the tree and watched the dealers sell to the junkies and the families that were either unobservant or ignorant to all that was going on around them, walking around and playing in the grassy areas. Malcolm closed his eyes and tried to imagine something better for him. Maybe a nice man, girl, goat, anything that would take his mind off of Josh and his damn fucked up way of living. Why was he so smitten with someone who probably would never change nor ever bring himself to be with another man? It hurt his head thinking about it.

Malcolm thought about the kittens and in particular, Fido. He liked that little guy but the other ones were getting on his nerves. Why hasn't he been able to give them away yet? He had been putting in ads in the Westword and The Denver Post every week but to no avail. He had had some contenders but he deemed them too unstable to take care of the kitty cats. Although he was growing tired of the responsibility for having to take care of five of them so he had decided that the next person to offer to take one he would accept. After all, they couldn't be any worse than the shelter (which murdered them after thirty days).

A dirty looking young man passed by him while he was lying on the grass and asked him for any spare change. Malcolm just nodded and kept looking up at the tree above him.

"Come on man, do you have any or not?" The unwashed young man asked.

"I in fact do." Malcolm sighed. "But you'd have to blow me for it." The young man shook his head and walked away in disgust. This made Malcolm smile.

Cindy should be home, Josh thought. It was Thursday and she normally didn't work mornings anyhow, or in fact worked most Thursdays. So he went up to her apartment door on the corner of Broadway and Milton. The 0 bus took him about two blocks from her. He had wanted to call first but thought better of it, instead wanting to surprise her instead by his presence.

He felt his pocket for his needle and balloon and sighed in relief. Then he knocked on the door a few times with half the strength he could muster in so which she could hear him if she was in her bedroom.

"Just a second!" The familiar voice called from behind the door. Josh straightened his shirt and smiled in anticipation. After about a minute he heard her footsteps grow closer and the door opened. She looked out dumbly at him for a moment before crossing her arms and frowning.

"Where have you been?" She asked.

"Um..." Josh was not hoping for this kind of reaction. "I was in the hospital."

"Uh huh. Why didn't you call me?"

"My phone was dead. I didn't have my charger. And one of my roommates died and the other kicked me out."

Cindy's arms came uncrossed. "Oh my God... Which one died?"

"Bill." Josh said without emotion.

"How?"

"Drunk driving. He ran right into a tree."

Cindy took a step back. "Oh man..." She motioned her hand toward her living room. "You wanna come in?"

Josh smiled. "Yes. That would be very awesome."

Malcolm had begun to walk back to his car when he got the call. Some guy named Roger (of Roger's Subs) asked if he could come over after his store closed and see the cats. This pleased Malcolm and he gave him directions to his place over the phone. They promised to meet each other at seven that night and he hung up. Malcolm hoped that a free sandwich would result from the deal. Maybe he could fake his way into convincing the guy that he was in possession of pure bred kittens. But what kind?

Damn... He thought.

Malcolm still had his cell phone in his hand when he decided to try and call Josh again. After three rings he gave up and switched it off. He had no other place to go so he wasn't too worried that he'd never come back.

That is...

What if he started staying with Cindy? The very thought made him jealous and angry.

He wasn't sure if she had slept with him out of pity or if she was genuinely horny. Either way wouldn't really cause him to think about it too much. He hadn't busted a nut in sometime now and it was a tremendous release. Josh and Cindy lay in bed side by side. Cindy's was on her side and her hand was softly massaging Josh's penis. After an almost meditative period of doing so she then slid her arm up towards Josh's flat stomach. He didn't have abs but he was a thick sort of skinny that she liked. Josh was on the verge of sleep when he sat up in bed and stretched his arms and yawned.

"I'm gonna go take a piss." He said as he lifted the sheets off of him and got up to go to the bathroom. Cindy watched as his flat ass walked away from her and into the bathroom adjoining her room. She wondered about the danger of her getting pregnant or worse, some sort of disease from Josh since they'd not used a condom during sex. The sperm between her legs had dried into a viscous sticky syrup and she could feel under her that he'd gotten some on the bed. She would have to clean that up before she went to bed that night.

She went into her drawer to see if she had any morning after pills left, she didn't. As she stood by the night stand and the drawers she felt a chill come over her. She knew that he had used that day because of how his eyes looked. She knew that even if he had overdosed he would not of stayed in the hospital for three days, Denver Health usually kicked out the person as soon as they are narcanned. Something else was up. She had an idea that he may of finally gotten arrested but she was too glad to see him and see that he was safe to bring up the question.

Josh flushed the toilet and exited the bathroom without washing his hands.

"You didn't wash up?" Cindy asked, mildly disgusted at her boyfriend.

Josh smiled. "I shot my load into you and you are worried that I didn't wash my hands after touching this?" He waved down toward his pubic region and laughed. Cindy sighed and went into the bathroom herself to wash up. She knew that douching had no effect in preventing pregnancy or disease but she wanted to get that sticky white residual out of her private area.

Josh went to the bed and lay down on his back. Frowning with his hands behind his head he thought about how lucky he was to have both a place to stay and that he still had someone to fuck. He massaged his cock a little then sniffed the hand. It smelled vaguely of raw tuna. It was a metallic / sweet sort of sent that every straight man loved to smell after sex. It reminded him of the act and he felt himself getting hard again.

Cindy flushed out her vagina in the bathtub and wiped the area with one of the loose towels she had hanging up on the shower curtain. Not really minding the stain it left on it she carried it over to the hamper and threw it in. She looked into the mirror and felt terribly depressed. Was this where their relationship was going? If she ever did have a kid with him would he be a good dad? Did she even want a kid right now? She had to go down to planned parenthood and get more pills. Although realistically she knew that she had just had her period and shouldn't be ovulating she was still under the pretense that one would never know when the stork would come.

She walked out of the bathroom and saw Josh lying naked on her bed above the blanket. His erection standing up in the air he motioned for her to come back to bed.

"I think once is enough." She said as she picked her clothes off the floor. Josh let out a deep grunt and put his hands to his eyes.

"Come on... I haven't been with you in a while now. Couldn't we just get together one more time?" He asked, almost whining.

"Don't beg me for sex Josh." She said. "Besides it was stupid of me to sleep with you without a condom in the first place."

"But you got to admit that it feels better when we do it that way." He paused for a moment. "Besides, don't you have those contraceptive pills? Couldn't you take one if you are so worried?"

"Yes..." she lied "I suppose I could."

Josh turned on his side facing her and patted the bed before him. His wood was going limp and the foreskin contracted over his tip. For some reason Cindy had always liked uncut guys and it did make her a little bit in the mood again, but she stuck to her guns.

She put on her panties and then tight blue jeans. "Do you want me to take you back to wherever you are staying?"

Josh frowned and let out a long sigh. "Couldn't I stay with you?"

She thought about his drug use and shook her head.

Josh sat up in bed, his erection completely gone now. He got up and picked up his boxers from the floor. "You can take me to Boulder and Platte. I'm staying with this guy there."

"Is he nice?" She asked, putting on her white see through bra. He nodded but did not look in her direction. In the time it took her to put back on her shirt Josh had fully dressed with the exception of his black socks and white Vans skater shoes.

Then Josh remembered that he was supposed to go to the probation office that morning. "Fuck..." he uttered.

Cindy walked over to where he stood, coming up to his shoulders she felt small and it took her a second to get over it. "What?" She said.

"Nothing." Josh had the discharge paperwork at Malcolm's place. He'd left it by the futon where he'd slept the night before. It made him almost physically sick at the thought that he might get into trouble again. He slouched his shoulders and bent down to put on his socks. Then he went for his shoes at the foot of the doorway.

"Are you sure you're OK?" She asked, finding herself growing concerned over his sudden change in mood.

"Fine." Josh put on his shoes and left her room. Cindy wondered whether or not her refusal of sex had put him in this mood. She almost wanted to go to him and make love one more time but her rational mind told her to make a statement and stick to it. No one will respect you if you change your mind so much...

Malcolm sat on the futon reading Josh's discharge paperwork. According to it he had (in not so many words) received a minor head injury. Josh didn't even have a bruise and had told him that it was that "fucking" clonadine. Malcolm had never taken any such medication so he could not relate to someone who had fainted. He assumed it would be sort of like going into a mini coma.

Malcolm wished he could go into a coma. Be away from eternal life even for a day... Sleep was the closest thing he came to death.

Coma... Latin for "the little death".

Malcolm sighed and put the paperwork back onto the floor. He had decided what he'd do if Josh comes home with pinned eyes. It wouldn't be pretty either. He would make him understand that he was ruining his life and Malcolm would be the one to change it. Even if it meant hurting him in the process, he would thank him later.

Just like all those people out in the city at night... He was a good man for doing what he did for them. Their quality of life would prove insufferable throughout their lives and he was the sweet angel of mercy. Even Malcolm doubted this now. Couldn't people change?

No... People would try but deep down they would always be the same. He remembered a self help guy on TV about addicts that they'd always be tempted, they'd always be in recovery. This made Malcolm want to cry when thinking about Josh.

The boy he could never have... Well, at least consensually. But he'd never force himself upon him.

Right?

No... He wouldn't. He was too good of a person to do something like that. Plus whenever he had sex with boys he always ripped something. He didn't want Josh to be in any sort of pain, nor did he want to get blood on any of his sheets. It was a double whammy of a decision.

Malcolm got up to put in a movie. He plundered through his Blu Rays and finally settled on the Dark Knight. It was one of his favorite movies because it was just so dark. Christopher Nolan had taken a campy old concept and had given it some guts. He thought that Heath Ledger was just all around amazing as the Joker. A character that could have been silly he made into a true monstrous psychopath. Of course he was still funny but you almost felt like a jerk for laughing at his jokes, which normally included killing someone.

Was Malcolm a psychopath? He rarely thought about the people he killed. The last person he felt even a tiny twinge of guilt for taking away was that officer's son. But to be honest, that cop was a dick and kids take after their parents. In fact if you looked at it in a certain light you could just think that it was a good thing to not let a tiny jerk turn into a big jerk.

That's justification enough...

Chapter 15: The Lion, the Witch, and the soon to be Dead Fucking Girl who fucked the son of a bitch and allowed him to fucking do drugs!

Josh had been able to milk his time with Cindy into lasting a little longer by asking her to help him get some groceries, knowing full and well that Malcolm kept a stocked kitchen. He felt like she was going to abandon him soon. People always did. Instead of Garrick working with him and trying to endorse him getting help for his problems he just tossed him away like a holey sock filled with dog shit. His father never really cared for him other than that he bought a minimal amount of food, just enough to get the social workers off his back. Or his mother who let him beat and degrade him and his brother all those years. He had not even talked to his father since leaving their place in Lakewood. And even though it should of been a happy occasion, it still was tinged with the feeling that he was never going to get the chance to be loved.

Like most men, he equated sex with connectedness. To him the act of making love was something to do often because it involved unashamed embrace and brought happiness (supposedly) to both people involved. The fact that Cindy couldn't see that was something he struggled with. He was too macho to ever admit something so personal, if for anything he feared her branding him a wimp and dumping him like so many before her. He prayed to God that he'd find somebody whom he could really be with, not just in the biblical sense but somebody who could understand and love him without being overbearing or expecting him to be a person he was not.

As they walked the aisles of King Soopers he kept his head low and his shoulders slouched. She did not seem to notice that he was sad and this made him a little angry. He needed her to be there for him and yet she was totally unaware of his mood. At least that's how he felt.

He had asked Cindy to pick out some healthy stuff along with any kinds of chips she'd recommend. It was his effort to let her feel like her opinion counted but he suspected that maybe she was a little perturbed by him being needy.

That's not how a man should be... He felt that he should be buying her stuff. He cursed himself for wasting so much money on those damn drugs he bought earlier that morning. Looking up at her he tried to smile but it went unnoticed, as Cindy was either looking straight ahead or at some God awful piece of junk that he'd have to say he liked. In truth he was very much a junk food guy. All this whole grain and green shit made him feel nauseas.

Remember... He thought to himself, that when you get sick from eating this stuff then it's your body's way of purifying you. He really wanted to believe this but the sight of beets made his stomach do a back flip into an unsuspecting pregnant mother, miscarrying her child as a result.

"Do you like Pringles?" Cindy asked as they walked through the chip section.

"Yeah, I guess..." Josh said looking away over towards the hot and spicy Cheetos. He wanted badly to grab a bag but he had to consider who was paying right then.

"They're good for you, especially the whole grain ones."

"Yum!" Josh couldn't keep his sarcasm to himself and Cindy stopped where she was walking. Josh noticed this too and looked down into her disappointed face. "I'm sorry... I'm just in a bad space, you know?" He put his hands in his pockets and continued looking down at the hard tiled floor.

Cindy sighed. "Yeah I know." She took his big feminine hand and guided him through the rest of the store. She did not let go until they had reached the checkout counter. A tall heavy set man was the cashier and noted how they look like a sweet couple. Josh did not reply but Cindy told him 'thank you'.

Josh allowed himself to be led out of the grocery store. His mood had dampened considerably and Cindy thought for the longest time about what to do or say to him. Nothing she could think of that would make him even a little happier came to mind. As they reached the car she let go of Josh's hand and walked to her car door. A dinky old little blue Pinto. She called it Cujo after the name of that dog in that Stephen King book. The lead character, Donna, had a blue pinto. She let out a small laugh and put the grocery bag in the back seat.

Pringles (whole grain), some beats (bright red, indicating good taste), some carrots, whole grain flax bread, deli smoked turkey, some pepper jack cheese (deli also), and a few health shakes, the kind that were meal replacements. She would have stayed and gotten more but in his current state, all she wanted to do was get him home.

She looked back and saw Josh still standing where she had left him, his shoulders slumped and staring at the pavement beneath him.

She frowned. "Josh..." She said. "Josh would you come to the car now, Josh?"

Josh looked up and it was apparent that he had been crying. She was not sure what the next course of action should be so she went up to him and hugged his chest. He did not make a move to hug her back. She could feel him breathing in and out deeply. Her fingers traced the arch in his lower back and went lower down to his buttocks.

"We could go somewhere private; maybe have a little fun in the back seat?" Cindy offered. He shook his head and broke free from her embrace. Josh walked slowly over to the passenger side door and got in. Cindy could not believe that he would pass up sex. She wondered if this was the beginning of the end for them. Was it the beginning of the end for him? she thought.

She got in and buckled her seat belt. Josh made no such attempt but she did not press the matter. After a few moments of silence she started the car. As if by some wonderful idea, Josh buckled his seat belt and looked over at her. He still had tears running down his pale, thin cheeks, but he smiled nonetheless. She smiled back too but knew that he was just acting happy. His eyes betrayed his smile and it made her feel hollow inside.

"Do you need anything from me?" Cindy asked softly.

Josh looked at the parking lot beyond the front windshield. "No. Just take me home."

Cindy put the car into drive and asked "Could I meet your new roommate?"

Josh lay his head down against his window. "I guess..."

Malcolm was debating on whether or not to take a shower when he heard the knock at the door. He hadn't the slightest clue as to who it could be before a few moments of thought made him think that it could be Josh. He got up from the futon and walked over to the door. He looked into the eye hole and saw Josh with some blond haired girl standing beside him.

He opened the door and smiled. "I was worried about you man!" But then Malcolm saw Josh's red, pinned eyes. His heart immediately sunk and he stepped away from the door, looking past his living room as if he was searching for something deeper beyond the walls. Josh walked in and immediately went for Harold's old room. He shut the door and locked it.

"I'm sorry." Cindy began. "I don't know what got into him..." She then asked if she could come in. Malcolm wanted nothing more. She walked into the living room with the bag in her right hand and Malcolm shut the front door. He slowly made his way to her and she couldn't help but be a little intimidated by his stature.

Malcolm was now a few inches closer to her and looked down with malevolent eyes. She did not know what this meant.

Finally he asked "Do you want something to drink? A beer perhaps?"

She did not want to get drunk but she did want to talk to him about Josh. "Sure. Just one though, I'm driving." Her words were soft and vacant. Malcolm went to his refrigerator and took out two beers. He wished he had something to spike it with to make what he had to do next a little easier on them both. He could handle it though.

Malcolm walked over the dining room table and placed the beers on it. Then he walked over to where Cindy stood motionless and circled her. She followed his gaze and grew worried about her safety.

"I think I should leave actually." She said in a small voice.

"I think you let him do it again." Malcolm accused. Before she could ask what he meant he stepped in back of her and put one hand on her mouth and the other arm around her chest, blocking her arms from moving. Before he had the chance to think it through, his impulsiveness won over. His face made a beeline for her neck and immediately found the jugular. He had to crouch a little for a better grasp and she fought him, how she fought him... But he was strong and kept her under control while he drank from the bite wound.

Not a single drop should be wasted, he thought to himself as she whimpered through the slats through his long fingers. Little by little he could feel her relax and he guided her down to the floor, never once taking his hands off of her nor his mouth off her neck. He could feel tears wet his fingers and for a moment he felt as if he should stop. But once he had started he had to finish. Her blood was too good to not drink. She must be a health food kind of girl. She had apples this morning, maybe some oatmeal.

Little by little he felt her pulse slow until finally, it stopped. He kept on sucking though in case there was a little heartbeat he couldn't detect and that would mean the jugular would keep pumping, ruining his carpeting.

When he could taste no more of her blood coming out he let her go, stood up above her and wanted to spit on her backside, but he refrained. He didn't want to get any on the floor. He turned toward the hallway and went for Harold's room.

"Josh?" He said as he knocked on the door with his knuckles. "Josh come out. I want to talk to you."

"I don't want to talk right now!" Josh said from behind the door. He sounded like he was crying or something. Malcolm's first thoughts were that he was using again. Malcolm knocked again, this time hard enough to shake the door in it's frame.

"Josh! Come out right now!"

"No! Go away!" Malcolm felt his red hot temper boiling his cold blood. He backed away a little and rammed the door, breaking it in on the first try. To his surprise Josh wasn't sticking a needle in his arm but he was laying on the bed crying into Harold's old pillow. Josh looked up at him in horror and scooted a little toward the back of the left side of the bed. Malcolm felt a wave of sadness wash over him. But he immediately thought of what he could do.

Malcolm walked slowly over to where Josh was lying.

"Why is there red on your lips?" Josh's voice quivered. Malcolm did not reply. He sat on the bed next to where Josh was and put his hand on Josh's fading blue hair.

"I'm sorry..." Malcolm said and then his hands made their way toward Josh's chest. He grabbed him and was surprised that he did not fight him. Malcolm pulled him to his chest and cradled Josh in his arms. Malcolm's eyes began to water when his mouth planted itself onto Josh's thin neck, one almost too small for his head, and he sank his teeth into his jugular.

Josh did not scream like so many others had.

Josh did not cry out in pain.

Instead he just shivered and moaned sadly, as if he were accepting his fate. Malcolm could feel his tears fall to the back of his black t-shirt. Josh wrapped his arms around Malcolm and held tight. Malcolm had started crying too but did not let go. Josh's heartbeat slowed and was in threat of stopping. Malcolm's mouth let go and he put his big right hand over the wound. When he pulled back he saw Josh's face, it was blue and he was shaking from the loss of blood. Malcolm fished out a lighter from his pocket with his free hand and put it over the bite holes. When he let go of the neck blood streamed down and onto Josh's body. He went limp and Malcolm held him up straight. He used the lighter to quickly cauterize the bite and was mildly successful. They closed up but there was still a little blood dripping from him.

"Ugh..." Josh gargled weakly.

"I'm sorry." Malcolm started. "But this is the only way I know how to protect you from yourself." He let go of Josh's body and he fell back onto the bed. Malcolm put his head to the back of Josh's chest and heard him breathing slightly. He hoped that he hadn't gone too far with this. He didn't mean to kill the poor guy, just incapacitate him.

Soon after Josh had passed out Malcolm stayed by his side, watching him breathe and hoping that he wouldn't die.

After a few hours Roger came by and haggled his way into three of the kittens. To Malcolm he looked like an overgrown bearded hippie. But he let go of his prejudices and agreed to give them to him. He was surprised how much he had grown attached to the little things. He said his goodbyes and then they were gone. Leaving behind two kittens: Fido, and an unnamed one that Malcolm was hoping to give away. Although he was now thinking that it could go to Josh. That is, if he could conform.

In hopes to make the two into best buds he picked up the unnamed black kitten and carried it to Josh's room. He was now lying on his side and his eyes were barely open. His skin tone was bluish pale, but he seemed to be recovering somewhat.

"I brought you a kitten!" Malcolm said excitedly.

Josh grunted and shifted slightly in the bed, as if he were too weak to do much else.

"What are you?" Josh said in a hoarse whisper.

"Oh." Malcolm said nonchalantly. "I guess you can call me a vampire. But in all honesty I don't like that term. It's just the one that has the closest fit to what I really am."

Josh tried to snort but he was too weak and in too much bodily pain. "Vampires aren't real..."

Malcolm smiled and sat on the bed by Josh. "Not in the sense that you may know, no. But we are around, we just don't adhere to the mythology."

"I'm going to stick a crucifix up your ass..."

Malcolm laughed. "I'm an atheist man. Besides, you do that and I'll rip you cute little head off!" He ruffed Josh's hair in an attempt at good humor. Then his face grew concerned. "Are you in any pain?"

Josh grunted and shifted a little more. "Yes... Why are you trying to kill me?"

Malcolm put the kitten down on the bed and laid his hand on Josh's forehead. He was cold to the touch, but in fairness Josh felt the same way about his hand. "I'm not trying to kill you. I'm trying to save you. Do you know what you are doing to your life? What the people in your life are doing to you?"

"I want to see Cindy..."

"I had to kill her." Malcolm said matter of factly. "She was most likely endorsing you to do that heroin shit."

Josh's eyes moved up towards Malcolm and started to water. He wanted to cry but he was too weak to do so. The tears rolled down the side of his face and he wished he was strong enough to wipe them away. He had never been the kind of guy who would cry in front of another male respectively.

Malcolm took his hand off of Josh's head and picked up the kitten again, then he placed it in front of Josh's face. The kitten began to promptly lick the wetness off of his cheeks.

"Did you know that cats cannot taste sweets?" Malcolm said, trying to make conversation. "They are virtually unimpressed by cupcakes!" He laughed but Josh's demeanor remained frozen in a constant sad state.

"Are you going to kill me now?" Josh whimpered.

Malcolm put his hand back on his hand and rubbed it gently. "No. At least not if you decide that your life is worth living again."

The tears in Josh's eyes were heavy and staining the bed sheet fiercely. "I don't want to be in this much pain anymore... I just want to go. Maybe if I've been somewhat decent I'll go to heaven with Cindy..."

Malcolm said nothing about him not believing in heaven. He gave Josh all the comforting he could without speaking.

"I'll always be a junky." Josh cried. "I'll always be a fuck up..."

Malcolm sighed. "No you won't. You will get through this. In fact I could even give you this apartment. Maybe pay a few months rent. I'll leave and you can find another roommate and start your life all over." He meant this too. At this point he loved Josh so much that he was willing to let him go.

Josh rolled weakly onto his back. "Could you get me a glass of water?"

Malcolm smiled and got up to get him what he wanted. When he returned he placed it on the nightstand beside the bed. "Here you go buddy."

"Could you let me sleep?" Josh asked.

Malcolm didn't like the idea of letting him be alone after so much blood loss, but then again if he had gone too far then what would he tell the authorities? If he was going to die then he was going to die. Malcolm bent down and kissed his forehead. It had not gotten any warmer since the last time he felt it. He got up and went for the door. When he looked back for the last time Josh's eyes were closed.

With great guilt Malcolm closed the door.

Chapter 15: Back to the beginning.

Every now and then he thought about it. Thought about how his life had been ruined. Malcolm sat on his black futon and could help but replay the horrible scene in his head over and over.

He was twenty one, happily married, and even had a child (a boy of two, Malcolm's pride and joy) when it happened. Malcolm had inherited land from his father as a wedding present and had gotten some slaves with his wife's dowry money. Back then everyone viewed them as property and Malcolm was no different. But he did have a little respect for them and found that they would work harder and be more productive if he treated them better.

Silly Malcolm... He quickly grew attached to them. Especially a young black man (nigger as he would fondly recall saying.... Again back then it was just a common name that held its usual derogatory status, but everyone said it, even the blacks) who showed himself to be quite smart. His slave name was George (he never was privileged to his African name) and he was all sorts of useful when figuring out how to do things and work tools that he had just picked up. Back then the cotton gin had yet to be invented but he found ingenious ways of getting around that crop. Like he'd use his own fine toothed comb to get all the seeds out of his load.

He grew to enjoy his observational remarks on slave life. He wasn't resentful but instead told him how God made everyone with a purpose. Malcolm admired this as at the time he was a devout Baptist. He knew that George would not get into heaven but that made him want to make his Earthly life a little more tolerable.

He would bring him food that none of the other slaves would get. Eventually after noticing him about to pass out in the field from heat stroke he quickly made him into a house hand in their sprawling Victorian mansion by the river. Malcolm remembered going swimming naked in that river as he did not want to ruin his cotton clothes. He usually brought his son along and tried very hard to make him enjoy the water. Although his son was not a fan of mud or the washing off that was required afterword. His wife, Elizabeth, had to adhere to the modesty laws and therefore could not go swimming with them. The bible had taught the colonies that women were of an unclean sort. She only had to be purified for thirty three days after the birth of their son, Adam. But he secretly saw Beth as her own person. She was good with the help and great at performing her duties to Malcolm, whether in the kitchen or in the bedroom. They did it so often that it was a wonder that she hadn't gotten pregnant again, although she appeared to not enjoy it as much as he did but then again he was the husband. It was his God given right to make love to her.

He observed the tradition of not speaking or looking at her when she was menstruating as per the bible's request and the urging of the church. He was not allowed to bring her to the Sunday services when she was doing so. Once he had made love to her while she was unclean and the red sticky blood had stuck to his black pubic hair and smelled awful for days on end. Plus when he went to the outhouse that morning after he found his urethra closed from the dried blood on his glands. He did not punish her for it though. He really wished that there was a way to tell her he loved her when she was going through her period. But it was her cross to bear as women were put to curse and shame for defiling Adam in the Garden of Eden.

It was during this time that Malcolm started hanging around George as he did his housework. He had become the official man servant and had praised Malcolm and God for his kindness. As Malcolm started spending more and more time with him he began to think unclean thoughts. He was wanting to hug him and he did not know why.

Leviticus: (paraphrase) He who lies with man as he does woman his blood shall be on his hands and surely be put to death.

This scared him. He couldn't not imagine the two together, and he was afraid to tell his pastor in fears of being punished by law. Malcolm wanted him and he had not the slightest clue where these feelings came from.

As the time passed by he got braver and braver. First he tried to teach George how to read but he refused the offer stating that he could be arrested under the laws where it made it illegal for a black man to learn how to read.

The second time he tried to get close he had asked George if he wanted to take a bath. He agreed and they went to the tub in the room farthest East of the mansion. Malcolm offered him his finest soaps and George was as usual, vocal about his gratitude. It was then Malcolm first saw him naked. The man was large as per the rumors about black men. Malcolm half jokingly enquired that he must have a heck of a time making love to a woman. George did not find this funny and told him that he was waiting for marriage. Sex outside of it was sinful. This broke Malcolm's heart a little and he abandoned his initial thoughts of washing George himself and left the room.

Things progressed little by little. He still had sex with his wife but the frequency was getting lower and when he did he thought of being with George, who made him push harder and deeper into Beth than before, resulting in massive bleeding and shrieks of pain. Sometimes the servants would talk about him beating his wife, which was untrue.

The first time Malcolm had made his initial advance on him would be the last time he would ever get the chance to. He had George follow him into one of the spare bedrooms and locked the door behind them. George was under the pretense that Malcolm Jefferson wanted to talk about something important. Malcolm told him to sit on the bed and he did so like a good black male servant. Malcolm undressed quickly and was fully naked in front of George. George was appalled and looked away.

Malcolm told him straight up that he was his property and he had to do what he told him to. He asked George to undress also and there was a small war of words but he reluctantly agreed and did as he was told, crying the whole time and praying for his soul. Malcolm gently pushed him on his back on the bed and got on top of George. Malcolm had never felt harder in his life and all eleven inches of him was threatening to poke a hole in poor George's abdomen.

While George closed his eyes and prayed for God to save him, Malcolm turned him over and spit in the crack of George's buttocks. From there things get a little blurry. All he remembers was that afterwards there was a lot of blood on his sheets and his penis had a thin coating of brown. Malcolm got up and wiped his dick on the bed sheets, which would need replacing. He quickly got dressed and told George to do the same.

George lay still and motionless. The only sign that he was still alive was his insistent crying. Malcolm went over and sat by him. He put his hand on George's back but the black man quickly pushed him away. This angered Malcolm and immediately ordered him back to the fields. The man got up and staggered toward his clothes. He put them on slowly and unlocked the door then walked out. Malcolm was furious that his advances were rebuffed so much.

He was still horny so he tracked down his wife in the library and forced himself on her on that very hardwood floor. She had become accustomed to his way of showing he was the man of the house and went limp, hoping it would be over soon. He went on for nearly thirty minutes.

Malcolm was lost in his thoughts. He was angry at himself for adhering to those stupid principles of his time. The whole man is before God and women before man bullshit was repulsive now when he thought about it. He hated the very idea of God and hated the fact that while the nation was supposedly secular from 1776 until now, it was only recently that it had begun to be enforced. Maybe without God he would have never gotten into what he had gotten into. Maybe he could of made his wife and child's life a little better instead of being so fucking domineering.

The night in question came but mere hours after sunset. A mob of his slaves had gathered out front with torches. Malcolm couldn't believe his eyes, it was unheard of for black men and women to revolt, but there they were.

Malcolm could only stare outside of his bedroom window as they set fire to his house. Without thinking he left his wife asleep in the master bedroom and rand down the stairs and to the kitchen, where the back porch was. To his utter horror he found the door burning and spreading fast towards the rest of the room. He was trapped!

Malcolm was too scared for his life to think about his family. During times like this you only think about yourself. He would later find out that this was one part of Darwinian natural selection, as Richard Dawkins put it "The Selfish Gene".

Malcolm thought for what seemed like hours and the only reasonable thing he could think of doing was to ram the door and break through. He backed away little by little and soon the door was threatening to collapse. That was when he made the move.

He made it through the door and threw himself onto his back porch, which spanned several yards. He was certain once he landed on his side that he had broken his arm. It felt hot and numb. The top of the porch was burning and pieces of hot ash fell upon him and burned his skin down to the meat. It took all of his strength to get up and move through the fire onto the lawn.

When he finally made it he saw a sea of black faces. All he remembered after that was they had ascended on him. He felt a few of the blows but after that he had blacked out. His last thoughts before everything went dark were of his child and wife and how they, like he, were about to die.

Malcolm wanted to take his mind off of all this stuff so he got up and searched through his video collection for something to watch. He couldn't find anything satisfactory but he did settle on Who Framed Roger Rabbit. He wasn't really in the mood to watch it but suspected it would at least be a diversion from his rapid fire thought processes.

He couldn't take his mind off of the subject though. He didn't even try in the end.

Just like he was hoping to do with Josh, someone, no... Something had saved him. He awoke in a dark room surrounded with lit candles. His head hurt badly and so did his arm. The burns were excruciating and he could feel that some of his organs had ruptured inside him. That pain was too much for him to bear and he felt that he was on the verge of passing out again.

Then the short red headed man approached his bedside.

'You almost died out there.' he told Malcolm.

'Where is my wife and child?' Malcolm asked in response. The man nodded and went for a small box on a counter nearest the door, which was too dark to see in the dim candle light of the room.

Malcolm tried to move around but this brought too much deep rooted agony in his body. His breathing was labored and he was weakly coughing up blood. He wished he had died on his back lawn of the plantation. Maybe he would have died with his family and already be in heaven by now, walking with Jesus. But this man had robbed him of that...

'Something for the pain.' the short red headed man sang as he pulled out a few blackened chips that looked like sour communion wafers. He put both of them onto Malcolm's tongue where they dissolved into his mouth within a matter of minutes. It was not immediate but as the minutes passed Malcolm could feel his body letting go of the pain. He had it in his head that he would finally die peacefully. He accepted this with a smile. Soon he would join his wife and child.

The man told him 'I can either let you die, or I can let you live.' His voice was deep and gravely. Malcolm only nodded. The man had a halo over his head now and Malcolm took it as a sign of an angel.

'You've come from heaven to save me?' Malcolm whispered weakly. The man shook his head and went for the box again. This time he pulled out a large knife and pointed it at Malcolm.

Malcolm closed his eyes and prepared for what was to come next. But after a minute it had yet to happen so he opened his eyes again. The man was standing over him with the knife pointed at one of his arms.

'Do you want to live? If so I can make you live.' The man paused. 'If you want to die I can give you more opium chips and you can fade away from this existence peacefully.'

Malcolm began to cry. He did not want to die, he would accept it, but he would not want it to happen. 'Save me...' He croaked silently. The man put the knife to his wrist and made a long horizontal slit above his open palm. Blood immediately began pouring out. The short man put his wrist to Malcolm's mouth. Malcolm was too weak to resist and was feeling as if he was choking on the man's blood. He couldn't move his head and after a few moments he found himself wanting to suckle at the wound. It was so good, in fact better than anything he'd ever drunk. In fact it was more intoxicating than moonshine.

The man smiled. He put his whole wrist upon Malcolm's head and Malcolm could feel his strength come back to him little by little. It was as if his insides were melding back together and his broken arm was reconnecting. The feeling of euphoria grew even stronger as his blood flow started to transport the opium further into his extremities.

The man held his place for a minute longer then pried himself off of Malcolm's lips. Errant blood trickled onto his face and Malcolm used his good hand to wipe up the plasma and force it into his mouth.

The man went back to his box and pulled out a brown bandage from it and wrapped his wrist up. Then he pulled out a few more opium chips and went back to the bedside and offered them to Malcolm. Malcolm shook his head, he did not want to fall asleep and never wake up.

'You'll need these in about five minutes.' the man told him. Sure enough Malcolm, while very high on the opium and blood, could feel a small twinge of pain in his chest. He did not understand what this meant but knew something bad was coming. He took the chips and chewed on them, swallowing the bitter juice it made. He was finally able to ingest all three of them and the effect was not immediate, but it came pretty quickly.

As the pain grew his body became more and more distant. He was aware that his chest was seizing but he felt disconnected. Then it hit him. His heart stopped beating and his whole body convulsed in agony. Even with all the opium he had in his system it was still by far the worst pain he'd ever been through. His broken arm clenched over his heart and he was unaware that it had healed itself. Malcolm closed his eyes and prayed for the pain to stop, reciting the Lord's prayer in hopes of being saved one... Last... Time...

The man laughed and told him 'There is no God. You aren't dying. Well...' he paused. 'Technically you are but you'll live.'

Malcolm couldn't finish the prayer and began to scream in brutal terror. The man calmly put his small hand over his mouth and told him to be quiet. After about three minutes the pain began to subside. But it was still tremendous and he was certain the man was lying, he was dying and he couldn't see it.

Finally everything calmed down in Malcolm's body. He blinked a few times and suddenly felt very high and sleepy. The man told him to rest for the night. He left his bedside and blew out the candles in the room. He did not say goodnight but before he even left the doorway Malcolm was asleep. A quarter of his legs going beyond the end of the bed, (this was normal seeing as the average height of a man in those times was only about five six) he lay silent until dawn that morning.

Malcolm never saw that man again. He did not know where he was or what had happened the night before. The first thing he noticed about himself was the paleness of his skin. Then he felt a deep primordial urge to acquire more blood. Malcolm thought quickly about how there were supposed creatures in Europe that drank the blood of babies. Witches, werewolves, and vampires... The latter crossed his mind heavily, Malcolm was extremely superstitious and he fell to his knees on the foot of the steps to the cabin he had been in and prayed to God for forgiveness. For the first time in his adult life he felt like it was all moot.

He wanted to know where he was. He wanted to go back to his plantation and get that son of a bitch George.

Malcolm awoke from a deep slumber and checked his cell phone for the time. It was now almost twelve at night. He would go in and check on Josh in thirty minutes or so. He very much wished that he wouldn't die. But at the moment that was a small concern to him. Malcolm kept thinking about George. And that made him angry.

He didn't just kill George when he found him. He killed nearly all of the plantation slaves who had not yet escaped into the underground railroad. The method was one that shocked him. When he had tracked George down he had the insatiable instinct to bite him in the throat. It was so powerful that he had lost track of all other thoughts. It was almost like when you are having sex and all you can think about is the sweet orgasm at the end of the act.

George never saw him. With speed that scared him he leapt into the night and seized little George, guided by inhuman strength he bent him down and held him firm to the ground until he had drained him of what blood he could before the miscreant's heart stopped bleeding. Even after he held on. He made love to the corpse and spit on his back.

Then came the rest of them... Those who took his human life away. He was sure now that he was not normal anymore. He was the hand of God, judging those who have wronged him. In later years he would adopt the ideal that if you didn't want to live your life to the fullest then you weren't living, but dying.

Malcolm was surprised at how tired he was. He wanted to go to bed but he supposed that he should check on Josh just in case something bad had happened to him. He would feel guilty about it but he prepared himself for the worse. He was never good at judging how much is too much. Normally he drank to kill. Had he done it right this time? Maybe he could do to him what the short man did to Malcolm? But he wouldn't want to do that without Josh's permission. This was a commitment. If Malcolm would have know what he had gotten himself into he thinks that he might of just asked for fifty opium chips and went peacefully.

But it's not as if the years past have been all bad. He's had some great relationships. He's seen technology and social issues come about for the better of humanity. He was there when the Berlin wall fell, hooked up with a cute German guy that night. He sometimes wished he had killed him but that's just the monster inside him talking. Sometimes the monster is too strong for him to resist, but he does most of the times.

After all these years he has grown to accept what he is and what he does to stay alive. Maybe one day he could go public if enough of his people would rise up for social change. Although he remembered the Holocaust pretty well and knew that it would just amount to them getting arrested and brought into labs to be dissected and studied. He would never be free again if he came out. Spending the rest of eternity in confinement scared him. It was enough that he couldn't die, at least in any way he has already tried. Bullet wounds healed. Fire seemingly misses his skin. Drugs get him high but he never can overdose. His body is too much like steel and such he can never get into a car wreck or be beaten to death.

Looking on the bright side he was excited for the future. Albeit the whole global warming thing was scary but when he researched into it he found that most of the global trends were in fact circular. We had just come out of an ice age and are due for some warming. That is, until the next ice age coming in thirty to ninety thousand years. The dinosaurs lived through an exemplary hot period in history and there was no evidence of any of the land masses being overrun by sea water.

One thing people don't know about these so called melting icebergs and snow masses is that whenever it seems to get smaller on top (as in icebergs and glaciers) new ice forms an even bigger foundation on the bottom, which you can't see because it's deep under water. For every inch that melts off the top another two inches seemingly grows deep under the ocean. Global warming may be a myth and it may not. Who knows if we are in fact contributing to such a degree that we are. Last recorded measurements of the CO2 content of our atmosphere during the 2000's was around one percent or so. With nitrogen making up nearly sixty to seventy percent of our air.

But still... What if this data is wrong? One thing Malcolm hated was extreme heat, even though he didn't sweat, it's still uncomfortable when he condensated and loses moisture. Fucking icebergs and glaciers...

Malcolm sighed and got up. He stretched his long body until every perceivable joint in his body had cracked and popped. He scratched his butt and walked to Josh's bed room. Malcolm listened to the door but heard nothing. He usually can hear a person breathe across a room but he thought to himself that maybe he couldn't hear Josh because he was taking such shallow breaths.

He opened the door. At first glance Malcolm couldn't see Josh on the bed. This worried him so he came closer to inspect the room. He walked behind the bed and found Josh on the carpet face down. A surge of terror went through Malcolm's veins and he jumped toward him, picking him up and examining his white blue face for signs of life. He was so light. He had never appeared more fragile than right now.

Malcolm put his hands through his hair and could feel tears coming along. He noticed the glass of water by the bed had tipped over. There was a piece of bed stuffing by it, soft cotton that was as white as Josh's arms.

Josh's arms... Malcolm checked the right one and found nothing but blue veins going up his extremity. The other one though, there was something on it. A needle poked out from his wrist and there was a pool of blood on the floor from where it had leaked from the vein. Malcolm felt cold. He took the needle out of his hand but no blood came out. Signifying that Josh's heart had indeed stopped beating.

There was black plastic wrapping next to where he had fallen. Malcolm let go of Josh and picked up the plastic, rubbing it between his fingers for the longest time. Was this what killed him? It was so little! Although the rational part of Malcolm's mind suggested that with his lack of blood the heroin would of been way more concentrated than normal. Did Josh know this? Was this intentional?

Malcolm got up and searched the bed. He only found rumpled up sheets and streaks of dirt from where his shoes had rubbed against it. His shoes... He wore size eleven, unlike Malcolm who had embarrassingly dainty feet. He was going to be alright, if he would of just listened to Malcolm. He wanted to blame this all on Cindy, who was stuffed in the closet down the hall, but he knew that this was a struggle that Josh fought and eventually lost.

Malcolm's eyes began to water and he went back to Josh's body. He sat down next to him and picked him up. He cradled him in his arms for the longest time and his tears made Josh's shoulders wet.

Malcolm had not prayed since the early nineteen hundreds, before he lost his faith in God. But now he was in autopilot and started to recite the last rights for Josh. He kept repeating the words until the meaning was lost on him. He didn't stop holding him for hours. And for hours he prayed. He cursed God, if he existed at all, for creating such a nasty drug and taking away such a beautiful young man. There was no God. The bible is a lie. It's nothing but seemingly justified genocide and fundamentalist bigotry.

Josh's body seemed to grow colder as the time passed. Malcolm wouldn't let go until dawn broke. He couldn't let go. If he had never taken so much of his life then he'd be alive after such a small dose. It was his fault. He was sure of it. And it was this period of time that he wanted to die and be with Josh. It was his fault... Malcolm felt like a bad person.

"I AM a bad person..." Malcolm whispered to himself as he continued to rock back and forth with Josh's dead body in his arms.

"I killed you..."

Epilogue: Wanna see my package?

It was a hot day in Texas. The venue "Emos" was packed to the rim with hipsters and kids dressed in black. Most had either long straightened hair or short spiky cru cuts. Almost everyone's doo was dyed black.

The band playing was a new Pitchfork Media approved piece of mediocrity. They had some catchy choruses but they were known to be pretty boring live. They were famous for just standing there motionless while they played. Other bands like Weezer and The Pixies pulled this off and yet they were still interesting to watch. It had to be seen whether these guys were worth his time or not.

The bar in the back had rows of top shelf liquor that enticed the twenty one and over crowd to partake in. The prices were a little high but then again the club could get away with it being so famous. You didn't just pay to see the bands play here. You paid for the privilege to be in one of the hippest venues in the country.

They say that the word emo (as it pertains to the musical genre where young men sing about being sad and never getting laid, mostly due to girls being bitches and only wanting to harm said young men) was derived from the comedian Emo Philips. Legend has it that in this very club some band was onstage singing sad songs and the singer, who was apparently acting weird, had caught the attention of an audience member who shouted out to him "Hey! You act just like Emo!" And then a genre was born.

Although there had been bands before that are considered the Grandparents of the genre, it wasn't until the mid nineties when it got its name. Bands that came before were now being labeled as such. Bands like Rights of Spring and Jawbreaker were now considered to be the forerunners.

Of the most recent trends in the style, perhaps Fall Out Boy and My Chemical Romance had really put the genre on the map. He actually liked My Chemical Romance. Their lyrics were such downers that it bordered on self parody.

He stood at the bar watching the opening band start up. They were OK he guessed but their stage presence was amateurish. It's amazing how some bands can toil in obscurity for years without ever getting a decent show but some kids not even out of high school can form a band and become famous within two months. A good example of this hypocrisy was Panic At The Disco. He did like this band but he still considered it unfair. Just because you look good and know the right people, and they like you back, doesn't mean that you should drop whatever you are doing and pay attention to them exclusively while there are far more deserving and honest people who'd die for the chance to even get a chance.

No one cared for Nirvana when they first came out. Kurt Cobain was seen as a hanger on to the real big boys until their following grew so much that people in Seattle couldn't ignore them anymore. Even then people like Mark Arm of Mudhoney didn't want to acknowledge Kurt because he still saw him as a subordinate. The man standing at the bar didn't like Seattle because everyone seemed too full of themselves there. If you weren't born in Washington then you were an outsider.

Not that Texas is any better... He figured that he'd move soon enough. But first he'd give it a shot. The heat was awful and reason enough to pack his bags and move on.

A girl, obviously drunk, came up to the bar and stood in front of him. He held his long island iced tea with a steady grip and smiled. She smiled back. Her blond hair was striking but her demeanor was annoying. She had amazing brown eyes, signifying that she was not a natural blond. Why did people do this? He could see unnatural colors like blue and red being acceptable but why change your hair to something that would obviously be spotted out? What was the big deal with blonds being the most fuckable?

The world never ceased to amaze him.

The girl stepped closer and tried her best to stay steady. He was becoming attracted to her and wanted to get her in the sack. But the urge to drink her blood was far more powerful. He hadn't fed in a few days now.

"My name is Malcolm." He smiled and extended his free hand.

"You're cute!" The drunk blond said and wrapped her arms around his chest. Short girls were always the best in bed. Would her blood get him drunk? Only one way to find out...

"What do you say we get out of here and go to my place?" Malcolm said, grinning.

"Only if you promise to be gentle!" The lady slurred.

"It will be the best sex you ever had!" Malcolm laughed. He placed his drink on the bar and led her out of the club.
About the author

David McGhee currently lives in Denver Colorado where he tries to eek out an existence writing and getting government aid. If you are reading this then you have just helped him go one step further to having dinner.

You should be proud of yourself!

Reach out to David at:

http://facebook.com/trueposer

Twitter @trueposer

Blog (updated regularly)

http://trueposer.blogspot.com

and music!

Http://goodbyetimebomb.bandcamp.com
