Total pages in book: 159
Estimated words: 149301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 149301 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
“Grandpa, did you ever hear the story of the wolf and the river?”
Grandpa’s gruff voice, coated with whiskey, rum, cigars and regrets broke the tranquility, “…Not in the mood to play riddles and story time with you, boy. You’ll burn for this.” Grandpa’s eyes glowed like an electric serpent’s. His nostrils flared, as if smelling his own shitty defeat, and all the hatred of a million demons seeped from his pores to poison the air.
“ Now, here’s the thing… there’s two versions,” Kage began, ignoring Grandpa’s threat. “In one version of the tale, the wolf, named Stone, is beaten down but lives to see another day—it has a happily ever after, and no harm comes to nobody, ’cept his first family. He turned the other cheek, so to speak. In the other version, a more realistic account if you ask me, the big, bad wolf went into the town in the late night hour and devoured the hunter, his whole damn family, and then the whole fuckin’ village, until not a soul was left. Then, with blood dripping down his furry gray chest and staining his big, glistening fangs, he drank from the river, turning the water blood red. He headed off to create a new family and a new pack, but rumor has it that after that day, the river was cursed. Anyone who drank from it, except the wolves and other animals, was damned. Any human being who dared to quench their thirst, fish, swim or even wash their hands here would find themselves knockin’ on the death’s door. Take a sip!”
Winding Grandpa’s hair around his fist, he viciously dunked the old man’s head under the water with brute force. Kage grinned wide as he began applying more pressure, keeping the demon down in the aquatic grave for all the fishes to see. Grandpa struggled, his legs kicking and darting about as he lost oxygen. With his hands still bound, all he could do was to roll from side to side, but that offered no relief. Grandpa flipped and flopped like a dying catfish, the river water spitting high into the air, sprinkling Kage’s shirt in the process.
Eddie Noack’s, ‘Psycho,’ played from his truck, and the eerie tune sank in his soul during the ruckus.
“…Ohhh, Granddaddy, look how far you’ve fallen from grace…” He snatched the old man up from the water, and he gasped for air. His light blue eyes were wild now, the whites turned pink as pussy. “Grandaddy? Yeah.” Kage smiled as he kept a tight hold of his neck. “I used to call you that when I still loved you, but that’s so long ago now. A lot of time has passed, ain’t it? Lot of things have happened, right?”
“Why do you have to play with your food before you eat it?” Grandpa sneered. “Just go on and do it!”
“Is that a dare? A challenge?”
“No.” Grandpa’s eyes widened as he realized his bluff had been immediately called into question.
“Oh, ’cause you know I like me a good challenge. Now, ’bout this playin’ with my food… What’s wrong? You don’t like it when somebody toys with your life the way you did mine?” It seemed at that moment that the bastard saw him with renewed clarity—it was clear in his expression. “Now there’s somethin’ I want you to understand. This is merely a baptism. You’re a religious man, right? I thought you’d appreciate a good dunk in the water.
“Let me quote a fitting scripture: John 3:5. Jesus answered, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God.” So, I expect a little more appreciation than what I’m currently getting from you, old man. You told me a while back that, uh, you knew my weakness: That I didn’t wanna love again. I’m addicted to isolation and closin’ myself off. Well, I know one of your weaknesses, too: you don’t want to die alone…”
Grandpa shot him a look from the corner of his reddened eye.
“…Kage… you might as well hang yourself. If you’re gonna kill me, you better kill yourself, too!”
He yawned, then dunked Grandpa back into the water and watched the old man thrash about. Meanwhile, The Allman Brothers crooned ‘Midnight Rider.’ Kage hummed to the music, tightening his tattooed fingers around Old Man Wilde’s throat. With his entire hand, he was able to squeeze the fucker’s esophagus with great ease. Lifting Grandpa back up, he forced the bastard to face him.
“And he cried mightily with a strong voice! Sayin’, Babylon the great is fallen, and has become the habitation of devils, and the hold of every foul spirit, and a cage of every unclean and hateful bird!’ Grandpa, that’s in the book of Revelation, 18:12. See, growin’ up under your wing taught me a lot of things. You made sure we grandchildren read our Bibles. You insisted we go to Sunday School, and spared no rod on the boys… I remember those teachings, and I perked up when my name was mentioned. Now sure, it’s not the exact text, and I didn’t get my own book in there like Roman, but it’s close enough… ‘A cage of every unclean and hateful bird.’ I am your cage, sir. And you are the unclean and hateful bird. A vulture that flies around, looking down at dyin’ animals, weak humans that are on their last leg crawlin’ in the desert, and the injured roaming in the forest.