I ramble down the empty roads.
All the restaurants and shops are closed…
Places that witnessed so many loves
Throughout the years now pile up dust.
Juan Ramirez, My Heart Is A Ghost Town
“He’s going to kill me.” Spencer’s voice trembled as called out to the man in the cardigan from the middle of the street. An old grocery store, Frank’s, loomed behind them. Glen stood behind Spencer clutching him with one of his green scaly arms. He held the sharp talons of his other claw at Spencer’s sweat-drenched neck.
“No he won’t.” The man’s ray gun was poised, sights locked on the Herpezoid named Glen. “I won’t let him kill you.”
“He killed Denise, though.”
“I didn’t,” Glen protested. “That was Marshall.”
“I won’t let him kill you, Spencer.” The man’s deep brown eyes focused on his target with remarkable determination. “He doesn’t want to.”
“Oh, I don’t?” Glen pricked the skin above Spencer’s clavicle with his talon. Spencer squealed like a toddler receiving a shot. Blood trickled from the tiny wound.
“Let him go.”
“And if I don’t?”
“I shall put two shots from this blaster right into your forehead.”
Glen smiled as much as Herpezoid is capable and slid further behind Spencer, making sure to leave a slight scrape of his talon on his neck in the process.
“Oh, god,” Spencer whined. “He’s going to do it.”
“Spencer.” The man’s elegant drawl was eerily calm. “Be fearless, my boy. Oh, and be a sport and duck.”
Opmerkingen