1
If you were to find yourself walking down that overgrown lane, past the park that is no more than a kiddie swing and a bench, past the black trash bin that always seems either too empty or too full, and just past the singular street light, you’ll be able to look to your left and find a cobalt blue house. Now, if there are people playing at the park, if someone’s actively tossing dog waste into that trash bin, and if that street light is off, you can look at the cobalt blue house and see nothing at all. But if the park has been empty for at least eight hours, if the trash bin sits unused, and if the street light is casting a yellow film over the end of this overgrown lane—in short, if the world has long since gone to bed—you’ll be able to look inside the window of the cobalt blue house, and find a man in a red button up, with thinning grey hair, sitting—no, sinking—into a sage green arm chair, thinking of a way to kill the man who stole his wife.
2
Deep breaths. You know you shouldn’t be thinking this way, you know these are dangerous ideas to entertain, you know that hurting someone else won’t bring her back—I know that hurting him the way he hurt me is exactly what I need to do.
3
I won’t leave you in the mind of that monster for too long; it’s better to stay on the outside. Just watch as he sits in that stale, oil lamp-illuminated parlor room, in that sage green armchair, a born Catholic spending his one-hundred-and-twenty-second night in a row thinking about murder.
He took his first life when he was young. It was the summer after seventh grade, and he was spending another two sun-soaked months at one of those Jesus camps he was always forced to go to, learning about God’s greatness and how to make Him proud. None of it had any effect on him though, with the way he saw himself you might as well have been teaching Greek mythology to Oedipus. Anyways, it happened late one afternoon when everyone was free to roam the camp and play, our monster found someone who didn’t have anyone to play with, and asked him if he’d like to climb trees together, the boy said yes, so that’s what they did; they found a tree right on the edge of the creek, with long thick branches that cast shadows over the shallow water, and the rocks. Up first went the boy, then right behind him went the reason he would never get a chance to be remembered as anything more, than a boy. They climbed, up, and up, gripping bark and branches, wedging their feet wherever felt safest, until they were both sitting side by side atop the highest bough, feet dangling high above the creek. While the boy with no friends saw a life-changing view of the forest, our monster, Albert Gray, saw an opportunity. The boy’s view of the forest turned into a view of the rocks below him, and before he could think to scream, the rocks filled the space where thinking takes place.
“I’m so sorry you had to witness such a horrible accident,” a camp counselor said to him after.
“What makes you think it was an accident?” said Albert.
“Well it’s either that or the branch broke, God saw an opportunity to claim another angel, and you two just happened to be on a branch that wasn’t thin enough for him to break.” And that was that.
I won’t tell you how many more lives Albert took in his day; they aren’t relevant to our story. All you need to know is that his first kill taught him he could get away with being a monster, and everything after just scratched an itch.
4
Back in the flame-lit parlor room, the sage green armchair is now empty. Albert had moved to the desk; he was getting ready to kill again. After four months of plotting, he was ready. His past week had been spent shopping for wigs, makeup, and women’s clothing, then learning how to use the wigs and makeup, both of which he was putting on now. At the beginning of the week, he created an account for a dating site, found a picture of an attractive girl on Instagram, and used it for his account. He then matched up with, talked to, and planned tonight’s meet-up with his target: Craig Lee, the man who took away Albert’s wife.
5
“You look a lot different from your profile picture—” Craig remarked as he opened the door.
“Probably just the lighting,” said Albert as he entered.
“Why do you sound like a man!?” Craig said, shocked. He was backing away now, receding deeper into the house, past the stairs, the darkness of the kitchen swallowing him. Albert looped around through the living room, quickly scavenging through the toy bins. He came across a slap bracelet, a Rubik’s cube, and a Barbie doll, and made his way to the kitchen. First he tossed the Rubik’s cube at Craig’s heels, and Craig turned around.
“Who are you?? Why are you in my house??” Albert held up the Barbie doll.
“Can I have this?” he said.
“Sir, that’s-that’s for my children only—please get out of my house, I will call the police…” Craig said with shaky breath. Albert pulled out the slap bracelet and peeled off the themed plastic covering, revealing the thin, sharp piece of metal underneath. Craig went down screaming, and Albert muffled him until he lost enough blood to go limp. Albert dropped the slap bracelet and began heading for the door.
6
“Who are you?” a scrawny teenage boy said as he walked down the stairs.
“I’m a friend of your dad’s. Do you need something?” said Albert.
“A friend of my dad’s? Dude. It’s three in the morning…” said the boy.
“I’m just leaving, ” Albert then turned and walked out the front door.
7
When Albert left the house, it was storming, I mean, really storming, and then, as if the universe had grown tired of sitting back and watching Albert do all these heinous things, the storm hardened, the wind increased, the night flashed white with a boom, and Albert dropped to the ground smoking.
8
Heaven’s hammer shoved him under
Deep down, deep down.
Lower for everyone he had brought under
Deep down, deep down.
He awoke with a migraine
On the scalding hot ground
Deep down, deep down.
Determined to dethrone the devil
He searched ‘round, he searched ‘round.
Beat the hell out of red dwellers,
Red dwellers who gave him the eye.
Finally free to welcome the truth, no longer living alive.
He laughed at how easily he took down,
down the man who had stolen his wife
free to welcome the truth, no longer living a lie.
He killed a poor EMT who tried to save his wife’s life,
He killed the poor EMT who removed Albert’s knife,
Deep down, deep down.
Determined to dethrone the devil
He searched ‘round, he searched ‘round.
Wander no longer, you’ve now found your place
Breach the devil’s domicile
Albert shall taketh his place.
9
“You’re not that easy to find, you know that?” Albert said to the devil before elbowing his face into the wall. Like pinching a black match, the devil’s face crumbled under Albert’s touch; the new face of evil had been brought home.