Shadow Soul

My foot damn near found its way through the floorboard of my cherry ’69 Camaro while trying to slam on brakes.

What. The. Fuck?!

In the middle of the road, illuminated by the glow of headlights stood…something.

At first, I thought it was a dog except there was something off about it. It was too large, almost as tall as a full-grown deer, and blacker than the night around us. It met my incredulous gaze with a piercing stare that sent chills straight up my spine.

I rubbed my eyes and took a deep breath. An emphatic mutter about never drinking and driving again died on my lips.

When I dared to risk another glance, I heaved a sigh of relief as I noticed its disappearance.

Just a dog. Just a big, fucking dog.

I had put my car in drive when there was a great growling sound rumbling at my left ear.

With caution, I turned towards the window, against my better judgment.

Glowing crimson eyes and bared teeth froze me in my tracks. Though its gaping maw never moved, words filled my mind.

“Soon, Corbin. Soon.”

“Oh, SCREW THIS!”

I finally gathered what mental faculties I could and got the hell outta there. I never looked back or glanced in any of my mirrors.

My Camaro skidded sideways into my parents’ driveway and I beat a hasty retreat into the house. As soon as I was inside, I locked the door and checked out the window with increasing paranoia.

“Son, what on Earth?” My dad’s gravelly voice rumbled from his favorite chair, half-drunk off his own ass. My mother peeked over the top of her book with the same look of concern she’d been giving me for eight years. Ever since I was thirteen and had become her problem child.

“Corbin, honey, what is it?”

I swallowed once, twice, three times trying to get past the lump of terror in my throat that seemed lodged.

At the worry in my mother’s voice, my father grudgingly, un-assed his recliner and staggered over to me.

“I saw...I mean I think I saw...and it...”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” my father’s tone rang of disapproval as he scented the air around me. “Alayna he’s piss drunk and probably stoned as hell to boot.”

I forgot my fear as anger washed over me, and a new shot of adrenaline pumped through my veins.

“Man, FUCK YOU!”

“Corbin!” My mother, always trying to play mediator and pacifier to keep me out of trouble.

“What did you say to me you ungrateful bastard?” My dad’s fists doubled at his sides, itching for me to push him just once more, like old times.

“Jeff! Stop! That is your son!”

“Right. Couldn’t prove it by me.”

“My whole life I’ve watched you fuck up and now it’s all I do. All I’ve done for years. I’m exactly like you, JEFF. A colossal, perpetual fuck up.”

“Enough, the both of you! Corbin, your dinner is in the oven, Jeff you finish your drink and drop it.”

Just like that, whatever I had seen didn’t seem so important anymore.

Halfway through my mother’s lasagna, a thought worked its way to the forefront of my mind. It was like a subtle drumming at first that grew in intensity.

Kill him. Kill him. He’s a waste of flesh. Kill him.

It was as if it was on a loop in my brain and I couldn’t change the track. Sure, my father and I had issues, he used to put his hands on me in anger often, but I’d never wanted to kill him in truth. Throttle him, oh yeah. Murder him? No.

Regardless, the thought was still thrumming through my head as I drifted off into a fitful sleep a few hours later.