"I will never forgive you." Lucky sang as he entered the house. "Is that even a lyric in a song." He laughed, closing and locking the door. He dropped the keys on the key hook and removed his jacket, letting it hang on the back of the couch. He touched the lamp, it activated to bring in a dim ambience into the living room. It was nearing midnight and the sling kept his arm stiff, the same way it had all day.
He frowned his face as he sat down. The pain from yesterday's excursion at the hospital still reminded him of being tackled by the werewolf. The hospital was a good place to be in case of medical emergencies however, an attack by a big furry mad guy that's only going to get madder if you pull his hair, being at a hospital with one seemed to defeat the purpose of the medical institution. The morgue outweighed the benefit of the building, in his mind.
Sitting back on the couch, he slipped the strap over his head and released himself from the aid. He exhaled. Tired from not getting enough rest after last night and hauling around a sprain that he didn't need. Werewolves were not the only creatures on his things-in-woods-to-worry-about list. He looked at his living room desk. A pile of strange sightings reports from around the neighborhood dazzled his eyes in the glow of the lamp. The beasts were getting closer to the humans. He knew it. The neighborhood knew it but the local law enforcement agency recommended the use of a broom and dust pan for protection from these things. Until government funding was approved, the resources, to spend time on the deer that ransacked the tool shed but forgot about the fresh vegetation in the summer garden, had to wait to be used on one more traffic check instead of checking the tracks of what made the traffic. He knew it opened up a niche for extra help in the community. Who was really going to chase the bear when the officer had to be the one directing the traffic around town and his own response to the complaint was "It will be gone by the time we get there." The truth was, most assailants were gone by the time they showed up but something as nosey as a werewolf would still be there, sometimes, like a bear, figuring out how to use the can opener but never seeming to make it upstairs to destroy the chicken coop because it made so much noise getting into the can of beans that a missed shot at it by the home owner was enough to scare it away, leaving a messy invasion to explain.
The hospital was a virtual coop for the thing. Lucky knew that and it scared him even if he never showed it. He knew that one night the hospital situation was going to turn into a string of murderous events that would have the cops scratching their head.
They gave him the job. They laughed and called him "Eradicator", complete with a fancy imaginary drum roll to welcome the only person to answer the six month long ad they kept in the paper.
People were wondering why animal carcasses where no longer roadkill but remnants of road meals that ended up in strange places. Some tried to blame it on their neighbors dog that ran out of the house as soon as the door was opened. Others made statements that they saw something or someone, low. At night. In a ditch. None of it made sense but the job was open and he took it.
Lucky touched the lamp and the room got darker. He looked at the remote control beside it then thought twice about watching television. He yawned. Knowing he was running out of time to get enough sleep for a day on the job, he shut his eyes and held onto his arm. Protecting it-"What are you children doing out here? Time's changed. It gets dark early." An old man said, playing his disciplinarian voice truthfully. His own flashlight issuing a sense of safety to the children although they continued to cry.
"I heard y'all yelling for help a mile away. It's good I let the sun set on me this night otherwise you'd be sorry."
His eyes landed on the body.
"Ain't that Babe?" The old man asked, bending over the body to get a better look at it.
"What have you children done?" The old fat man, asked them all without directing the question to any one in particular.
"It wasn't a bear!" Lucky cried out.
The old fat man looked at him, believing him. He knew the children couldn't rip human flesh like that. But he said nothing to defend any of them.
"The law is gonna lock you up, boy. You better say something else. Take your brother and go get your daddy. Your sister and me will stay behind. With her. To make sure it don't get her."
Lucky looked at the old man's face and could see that he was just as scared as he was.
"Hurry up. This time of year is it's favorite. The sun sets before everybody gets off work."
"Get Dad, Lucky." Candace mumbled, keeping her place on the damp ground.
Lucky grabbed his brother. "Are you ok?"
Max nodded yes and the boys waited no longer-the paramedics slid the small covered body into the ambulance. The Rival family huddled in tears as the rescue vehicle left the river. The old fat man picked up a large stick and without saying good-bye, he left the distraught family crying by the river beneath the starless full moonlit sky. Scanning the forest as he walked away from the water.
"One more time, Lucky." His dad said through tears more of anger now than remorse. "I didn't think I'd have to tell you one more time not to come here."
"Dad."
"Son." -humming the tune from hours ago, groggily in his sleep, Lucky Rival nestled his body deeply into the cushions of the couch and slept.