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Outrun Stories #33

Fear City

By Outrun StoriesPublished 6 years ago 3 min read
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They creep in the night and the feast on the souls of men. At least that’s what they say, those are the stories they tell you when you’re a kid. Doesn’t change too much when you’re an adult either really, but you tend to believe it a little less. At least most people do.

I lean against the hood of my Porsche and light another cigarette as the neon of the night reflects a million hues in the wet tarmac of the strip. This is where I wait, this is where I know they like to find their victims. So, I sit here and spy the crowds from behind my sunglasses, waiting for one to make a wrong move. I know how they slink in and out of the crowds, I know how they make their marks, I know because of what happened.

Believe what you like, I don’t care, but I know they’re real. How, you might be asking, how do I know that these spectres that your dad tells you about at night to scare you, are real? How do I know that these things that you tell stories about when you’re a kid in school are out there? How do I know that there’s these hunters of the night that some old drunk will blab on about in the local dive bar exist?

I know because I battle with them every night. They’re real alright, and they take what’s most important to people and the god damn corrupt police cover it up with bullshit stories of robbers or rapes or murders or whatever. Don’t want to cause a panic, I guess. How would everyone react if they knew monsters were real?

I know because they did it to me, they took the one I loved, my husband and the police tried to say it was some sort of bullshit hit and run, but I know it what happened. I know it was these things. They prey on the people down here, shopping on the boardwalk at night, minding their own business. So, I sit there and wait, a cigarette in one hand, a loaded Beretta in the other.

The night lights of the boardwalk glisten, the laughter and smiles of all the people mask the darkness that creeps. There’s something that lurks, and no one fears it because no one knows. That’s why I’m here, to protect them, to hold onto some semblance of truth, to try and protect the innocent and the loved ones that the dirty cops of this town choose to ignore.

“I spy with my little eye, something beginning with…” there’s one, creeping in the shadows the way they always do. I close my eyes and see his smile there in front of me. It’s not going to happen again, not to anyone that I can help while these two hands can still grip a gun.

I flick the cigarette and cock the Beretta, lick my teeth and whisper to myself; “Time to party, time to make it better again.”

science fiction
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About the Creator

Outrun Stories

Short sci-fi stories in 500 words or less deriving from the Outrun, tech-noir and NewWave aesthetic.

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