WARPED - A Jeff Menapace Collection by Jeff Menapace

Author:Jeff Menapace [Menapace, Jeff]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

11

I stop reading, turn my manuscript over, and look up at my audience. There is a sea of wrinkled brows. I know they want more; their eyes are begging, almost demanding for more. But they’re not going to get it.

A brief silence passes before the first hand goes up.

“Are you finished?” she asks.

I smile and nod.

Another hand shoots up.

“What happens to Alex?”

All questions I expected. And I give them the responses I have prepared.

“Well, that’s up to you, isn’t it?” I say.

Another hand. “Does he die?”

“Maybe.” I look in the front row. He is standing in the center aisle, grinning at me. He looks exactly the same as I remember those twenty-odd years ago. Still handsome, still the same black attire, eyes still changing from one color to the next. He is impossible to miss, but no one else glances in his direction.

I know that only I can see him.

“I think it’s inevitable he dies,” someone declares. “How could he not? I mean, even if he managed to escape you’d think a demon like that would be able to find him whenever he wanted.”

I look at Him again. He is laughing now, and I see the infamous rows of razor teeth that I see every night when I close my eyes. The student’s statement is so spot-on that I find it hard not to laugh myself.

“I suppose you’re right,” I say. “That’s one way of looking at it.”

Another hand. “What would be the other?”

I shrug and wish aloud: “The demon lets him go.”

Lots of frowns and chatter. Obviously not a popular choice. Except for one girl. “I think the demon does let him go,” she says. All heads in the auditorium turn towards her. “When you think about it, all the demon was doing was protecting his children. The women he impregnated on Elmwood weren’t forced against their will. I mean, they even liked it. Not to mention they were paid shit-loads of cash too.” Everyone laughs. When it eventually fades she adds: “Plus, the people who were killed were in the wrong. They broke into someone’s home. They were trying to steal. I say the demon is nothing more than a lion defending his cubs.”

“And the offerings?” a man asks. “The one who was already in the cage with Alex? And the ones that were apparently in the other homes? Were they criminals? I think we can hardly call this demon thing a do-gooder who was just protecting his kids.”

The girl shrugs. “Who knows? But a lion doesn’t check the references of a gazelle before killing and feeding its family.” Some more laughs. “It’s all about survival of your species. A primitive urge refined through evolution.”

The man smirks and says, “Yeah, I guess shaving a guy’s balls before you eat him is pretty refined.”

Big laughs that last a solid minute.

But I’m stuck on the girl’s words. They’re hardly a revelation for me, yet they still hurt, and only serve to scratch a twenty-year-old wound of stupidity that will never heal.

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