See You Soon

If you’re reading this, I’m dead. Kicked the bucket, bought the farm. Go ahead and lay a couple of big old silver dollars over my eyes, ‘cause I ain’t coming back. I had a good life and I ain’t complaining, I’m telling you so you can prepare yourself for what’s to come.

You know why they used to use them silver dollars don’t you? It was so mourners wouldn’t have to see the maggots chewin’ on the eyeballs of their dearly departed, that jelly in your eyes being one of the first things to go. Personally, I always thought cremation was the best option. Slide me into the oven and turn it on high. Few minutes roastin’ on a fire’s better than years rotting in the ground, your skin dryin’ up like you been shrink wrapped, organs putrefyin’ into goop. Nothin’ left but a skeleton grinnin’ in the dark. No sir, not for me. Of course, that’s assuming someone finds my body. The way I figure it, there’s a good chance it’s no longer in this world.

But you know what, I’m gettin’ ahead of myself.

If I’m gonna start at the beginning, I better go back to the day after Christmas. It was a cold one for sure, snow up on the Rockies, a light frost making the grass crackle. I’d just finished my morning coffee when Hank came barrelling up my drive in that beat up El Camino he’s got. More rust than metal in that truck, but he kept it goin’ somehow. He tumbled out in a cloud of dust and curses, charged up the porch, and banged on my front door like the devil himself was on his tail.

As it happened, I’d been working’ in the barn since sun-up, trying to get the old JD working again. They say nothin’ runs like a Deere, but I spend more time wrenching on that tractor than driving it. I ambled over to the barn doors and hollered at Hank, before he knocked my damn house down.

“Geez Hank, what’s the ruckus?”

“Bill,” he gasped, haulin’ ass over to the barn, “I gotta talk to you.”

“Alright, alright” I said, “how’s about you catch your breath first.” The man was shakin’ like a leaf, so I sat him down on an old milking stool till he could gain some composure. My daddy carved that stool himself, and I couldn’t tell you how many hours I’ve sat on it, fillin’ a bucket. I always found it kinda soothing - the sweet smell of the milk mixin’ with the hay in the stalls. Had to let it all go once the big boys came to town with their factory farms. A goddamn shame. Broke my heart to kill Franklin, the herd bull. He was an ornery son of a bitch, but he had a good heart. I keep his horns mounted over my mantle to remember him by.

Well, once Hank stopped shakin’, he proceeded to tell me the strangest tale I ever heard. At first I didn’t believe him. Maybe I just didn’t want to. But now that I’ve had some time to reflect, I can see why he did it. I got no grudge against him, rest his soul. A man’s got to take any chance he can get.

If I’m remembering correctly, the first thing Hank said to me was: “There’s a monster comin’ for me Bill.”

I could see in his eyes, Hank wasn’t fooling around. Somethin' had scared the living daylights out of him.

He went on and told me how he’d been in his garage, working on his truck, when his son Tommy stopped by. Good kid, played baseball in college and almost made it to the Majors. Gave it up to be a dentist if you can believe it. Tommy told his father he was in trouble, some kind of creature had been following him. He said somethin’ else too, but I’ll get to that in a minute.

Hank tried to get Tommy to come inside, but the kid was skittish as a wild horse, took off down the street. Well Hank just stood there didn’t he, ain’t like he’s in any shape to chase the boy down. He was scared though, and went inside to give Tommy’s girlfriend a call. She’s a fine little filly, works at the diner on Alvarado. She told Hank she hadn’t heard from Tommy in a couple of days, and was worried maybe he’d lost interest in her. Ha! You ever get her leaning over in that waitress outfit to give you a slice of chocolate cake or pecan pie, you’d know how likely that is.

Now, Tommy was supposed to be playin’ a pick-up game that evening at Pear Tree Park. Hank went down to the field to talk to him, but the kid never showed. Hank was pretty worried by then, so after the game he bailed up Kevin, the umpire. Kevin does a decent job of being our Sheriff when he ain’t calling ball games, and together they organised a search party. Later that night, a deputy found Tommy’s Chevy out near Kellerman Quarry. Kid must have driven clear to the end of the road, and then took off on foot far as he could get. Kevin’s boys combed that place for three days, and didn’t find so much as a drop of blood. I guess you mighta’ read about it in the papers.

What you wouldn’t have read, and what I ain’t told you yet, was the last thing Tommy said to Hank. He said that the creature followin’ him was a kind of demon, harvesting souls to take back to Hell. If the demon came for you, you were lookin’ at an eternity of pain and damnation. But there was a choice, a deal on the table. You could trade your afterlife for another’s - all you had to do was tell someone else, and the demon would take them to Hell instead. It would still kill you of course, but you’d get to go to Heaven, see your loved ones again. The only price you paid was the guilt of knowin' what you’d done to get there.

Now I’ve never been the spiritual type, so all this sounded like a bunch of mumbo jumbo to me, and that’s what I told Hank. But there was no talking sense to him. He grabbed the old scattergun I keep mounted on the wall, and begged me to tell him where the shells for it were.

“Right there in the drawer Hank,” I told him, and he yanked it open. His hands musta’ been like rubber, ‘cause he dropped more shells than he loaded, but he managed to get a few rounds in. He had his back to the door doin’ it, and that’s why I saw the creature before he did.

There’s a small pond out yonder, just past my house. Freezes over this time of year, but the ice is thin - you skip a stone over it and you’ll crack right through. No way it could support the weight of a man. That’s how I knew it wasn’t one.

The creature stood upright on the ice, its head back, sniffin’ the air. Couldn’t make out much else - the damn thing was black as a politician’s heart. It musta’ been able to move like lightning though, ‘cause I swear I blinked and it was in the barn.

Hank knew it right away, I saw his shoulders tense up. He turned around and blasted a shot off. Now, in an enclosed space like my barn, a shotgun makes one hell of a racket. My ears were still ringing the next day. But the creature wasn’t bothered one bit, just took two steps up to Hank and snatched that gun right out of his hands. Tossed it into the stalls so hard it broke into bits. Hank just stood there, scared out of his mind. And well, this next part is kind of hard to describe.

The creature put its own hand in its mouth, and began to pull its jaw down. Like you see on the nature channel, when one of them giant pythons is tryin’ to swallow a goat. It stretched its jaw lower and lower, moaning and making cracking sounds, like snapping twigs. Then it grabbed Hank’s head, and began to eat him. On my Daddy’s grave, I swear it’s the truth. Hank was screaming by then, though it was kinda muffled on account of him bein’ inside the creature. It got down to his shoulders, then picked Hank up and held him in the air. Poor Hank was kicking his legs like crazy, and I swear I saw his hands pushing against the inside of the creature’s belly, but it just kept on swallowing him. It slurped and sucked on Hank like he was a piece of damn spaghetti, until he was all gone.

I don’t mind sayin’, I was scared at this point. Don’t tell me you wouldn’t be. I’d backed up against the wall, but then somehow it was right in front of me. That’s when I got a real good look.

The creature’s skin wasn’t just black, it had kind of a green light shining off it, like that oily shimmer you get on spilt gasoline. Had the same kind of wet look too, and the patterns were in constant motion, swirlin’ all over its body. Where its eyes shoulda been, it just had sunken pits, all scarred over, like they’d been ripped out. Its teeth were rotted down to the bone. And the smell, boy I will never forget that smell. Makes me sick just to think of it.

The creature put its head close to mine, sniffing me like a dog. Then the damn thing smiled, and I swear I heard it croak what sounded like words:

“See… you… soon…”

Then it up and disappeared. One second it was there, the next... gone. No trace of Hank neither. Only proof any of this happened is my Daddy’s busted up scattergun.

When I’d got a hold of my nerves, I ran Hank’s El Camino ‘round back and hid it behind the house. I figured if the Sheriff got involved, there’d be questions I wouldn’t be able to answer. Who’d believe such a crazy story? Besides, I couldn’t do it to Kevin. He’s a family man, got two young boys and another on the way. Wouldn’t be right.

Nope, I’m choosin’ to let the fates decide. Gonna wrap this letter up and leave it somewhere conspicuous, like a bus stop, or the train station. I’ll make it look like a forgotten Christmas gift. No doubt someone’s curiosity will get the better of them.

Maybe if my wife was still alive, she would have thought of another way - she was always the brains of this outfit. Mary was her name, after the flower. There’s a bed of them marigolds outside my bedroom window - I keep ‘em to remind me of her. Hopefully I’ll get to see her again soon.

It’s not my place to ask your forgiveness, but for what it’s worth, I do apologise. Probably that’ll be hard for you to accept. I mean, what’s the apology of a dead man worth anyway. But truly, I am sorry.

You see, if you’re reading this, you’re dead too.