Second Coming by Konrath J. A

Second Coming by Konrath J. A

Author:Konrath, J. A. [Konrath, J. A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Horror, thriller, General Fiction
Amazon: B07Y7BVNMH
Goodreads: 52677371
Published: 2022-05-30T07:00:00+00:00


FABLER

It isn’t easy to figure out who is a monster, unless they are literally a monster…

“Now what?”

After leaving Lori at the hospital, Fabler had returned to Grim’s house to make sure the hellspawn his wife had sliced and diced wouldn’t be coming back.

That involved a shovel, a squeegee, and several gallons of kerosene.

After Fabler had dug a hole in the yard and scooped/scraped all of the demon parts into it, Mu instructed him to soak the gooey remains and set them ablaze.

“Add some wood,” the banana told him. “We have to carbonize all cellular activity.”

“So I should throw my cell phone in there?”

“Are you joking?”

Fabler stuck the shovel blade in the ground and began to gather sticks and branches. He was grateful Grim didn’t have any close neighbors to witness it, and also grateful the paramedics hadn’t called the police.

Makes it easier to cover up the atrocities committed here.

“Was that a joke?” Mu asked again. “I’m still trying to understand this humor thing.”

Fabler shrugged. “You shouldn’t have to explain humor. You either find something funny, or you don’t.”

“I don’t find anything funny.”

“Then stop trying to tell jokes.”

After Fabler piled some dry brush onto the fire he added the last of the kerosene and checked his watch.

Everyone should be at the House of Jakes by now. I need to get a move on.

Fabler climbed into his Jeep and pulled onto the dirt road, heading through the woods, toward the meeting.

“Since we have some one-on-one time, would you like to talk about Hoopland?” Mu asked.

“I would not.”

“Guilt, regret, remorse, and grief are negative emotions for past situations that are immutable. Dwelling on mistakes isn’t a productive use of your time or your resources in the form of electrochemical brain waves. You can’t change what happened.”

“I’m aware of that.”

Fabler turned onto a paved road and then onto the main highway, zipping past flat, endless plains.

“You’re upset that your actions led to a death.” Mu wouldn’t let it go.

“Yes.”

“A horrible, painful, screaming death.”

“Are you pointing that out to hurt me?”

“I’m pointing out a fact. Data and knowledge shouldn’t hurt.”

Fabler passed a cattle ranch, eyeing the Shorthorns as they grazed.

Fattening up. They don’t know their days are numbered.

But do any of us?

“You don’t understand humor. Do you understand empathy?”

“I don’t have feelings. How am I supposed to understand the feelings of another sentient being?”

“The same way you can smell things without a nose. Or speak without a mouth. Aren’t feelings the same as thoughts? Just the manipulation of subatomic particles?”

“If an artificial intelligence could experience pleasure or pain, goals would be based on pleasure-seeking and pain avoidance.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

Fabler was immediately seized by indescribable pleasure, and his orgasm made him shout and swerve off the road. He hit the brakes to catch his breath and ride it out, eyes squeezed shut, hips bucking uncontrollably, but the ecstasy vanished as quickly as it came.

“What the hell, Mu?”

“Imagine you could feel like that all the time. Would you get anything done?”

Fabler checked the glove compartment for napkins.



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