[Part 1]

Malcolm continued coming around for his evening meal and I kept collecting my unreasonable payment. It had crossed my mind a dozen times to ask him if he had seen me driving away that night after I saw the dogs. I wondered why he was back in front of the diner. I wondered if I had just convinced myself I hadn’t seen something… unnatural.

But I never asked.

I was afraid speaking it into life would make it real. Turn it into something worse.

And I worried that my largest paying customer may not like me checking up on him. So I just kept cooking the steaks and taking the money. He kept eating them. No one asked questions.

I didn’t see the eyes anymore, but it always felt like something was watching me after that night. The diner wasn’t in the middle of the country, but it was on the outskirts of town. The lot directly across the street was undeveloped and covered in trees. On the sides of the diner sat an antique store and a barbershop. Both closed around 5 PM.

Staff wasn’t allowed to take the trash out alone anymore. It annoyed the hell out of them, but I put my foot down. While I wasn’t convinced that the four stray dogs were what I’d seen in the woods, I told the staff to be wary of them. They laughed, but I didn’t give a shit. Two people to the dumpster and back. No exceptions.

At the end of the shift, I always had Duane walk the girls to the car when he left. I always wished I could go with them to save myself the lonely walk to my truck, but I couldn’t leave. Malcolm would be coming in for his regular meal and I counted on that cash to keep everything afloat.

One night as he ate, I mentioned the dogs to Malcolm.

“I see you walkin’ into the woods every night,” I said. “I’ve seen some stray dogs around here. You ever see anything like that when you leave?”

He dropped his fork to his plate and lifted his squinted face toward me. “You’ve seen dogs or you’ve seen something else, Justin?”

“Dogs, man,” I replied. “At least I think they were dogs. Big ass yellow eyes. Size of damn dinner plates, it looked like. Dozens of ‘em. Lined up in the woods that you walk through. That’s why I figured you may’ve seen ‘em.”

“Careful in those woods, Justin,” he rumbled. “Dangerous things out there. Best not to go out front at night.”

He tossed the money on the counter and started toward the door.

“You know what it was, don’t you?” I asked as he continued walking. “Why the hell don’t you tell me?”

“That’s the trouble with humans,” he replied in annoyance. “You think you want to know something, but once you find out, you wish you never did.”

He walked out and vanished into the woods.

_________________________

Malcolm started eating his meals in silence. Since the night I asked him about the creatures in the woods, our conversations became less and less frequent until they didn’t happen at all. I fixed his dinner and he ate without a word. He still left the money on the counter, so I kept going.

Duane called in sick one day and left me to man the kitchen on my own. It hadn’t been so difficult a few months ago, but now people felt more comfortable getting out and business was increasing at a fairly rapid rate.

The dinner rush was finally dropping to a trickle which turned out to be handy. Angela stepped to the back to answer a phone call around 6 PM. Turned out to be her son. He’d gotten sick at a friend's house and Ang needed to leave early to pick him up. I told her to head out and take care of the kid. I’d watch the diner.

Everything was pretty smooth sailing that night until I remembered the mountain of trash bags sitting by the back door. I’d meant to take them out with Ang when she was still here but it had slipped my mind. My diner was my pride and I didn’t want to leave garbage sitting around, but it was already dark and I didn’t want to risk running whatever the hell had been hiding in the woods.

I hadn’t seen the damn things again, but I knew they were still out there. I could feel them.

It was 8:15 PM when the phone rang again. I answered it and was delighted to hear the voice of my old friend Mike from the next town over. He ran a good little greasy spoon of his own and we liked to talk shop from time to time.

“Justin, just a heads up,” Mike said in a serious tone. “Ole Lou from the health department is out making surprise inspections. No one gave their good buddy Mike a heads up, but I’m helpin’ you out, my friend. Dumb bastard knocked a point off my score for having my sanitation buckets 2 degrees low. Two degrees, Justin! Now that big fucking ninety-nine score is going to sit in the window till he comes back. Some people!”

I laughed. “Lou is a hard ass, but he’s decent enough. You think he’s swinging this way?”

“Who knows, my boy?” he belted. “Just a word to the wise. If you’re storing raw chicken in the desk drawer, may wanna put it away, huh?” He laughed and hung up the phone.

After hanging up the phone, I started tidying up the diner. Lou probably wouldn’t come to the diner that night, but it was hard to say. Our county was small and if he had already hit Mike’s with a surprise inspection, there was a decent chance he would come there.

It didn’t take me long to remember the massive pile of garbage at the front door. The rest of the diner had been in good shape, but a mountain of trash was sure to catch a health inspector’s attention quickly. I dreaded the thought of having to haul it to the dumpster but I couldn’t risk letting it sit there if Lou showed up.

I pushed the back door open and scanned the parking lot and field behind the diner. My truck sat under the light post to the left and the dumpster was under the light post to the right. The field beyond was as black as anything I’d ever seen, but there were no signs of movement or a hint of those hateful yellow eyes.

With a great sense of dread, I began to pile the bags into a sloppy stack on top of the overflowing rolling cans. I had no intention of making two trips. In and out. No round trips.

The plastic wheels rumbled loudly on the pavement as I hauled them toward the dumpster. When I reached the dumpster I slid the side door open to toss in the bags. The sound of metal squealing against metal made me cringe. If my goal had been stealth, I had failed miserably.

After I tossed in the last bag, my eyes scanned the field again. Still no signs of movement. No eyes. No growling. My pulse finally began to drop back to normal and I grabbed the rolling garbage cans to head back to the diner.

When I turned around, under the light above the back door, there was a creature standing on four legs. It stood as tall as the bed of my pickup truck and its frame rippled with muscles. Pale green skin covered its body, punctuated with bristly black hairs. There was no discernable head, but two bulbous yellow and a ragged maw of teeth split the area between the thing’s shoulders.

It snarled and… barked. It wasn’t exactly a bark, but I’m not sure what else to call it. Thick, red drool flowed from the toothy mouth onto the asphalt below. I began to back away from the nightmare abomination and moved toward my truck.

My heart nearly burst when the alarm from my truck began to blast. I turned my head to see another one of the hellhounds standing in the bed of my truck, clawed feet propping themselves on the cab. It grunted and turned its face toward me as though sniffing the air with unseen nostrils.

My feet froze again. I couldn’t move. I felt as helpless as the night I had seen the things watching me from the woods.

The hellhound from the truck jumped down and lowered itself to the ground, readying itself to pounce. I looked toward the beast at the door and it was moving forward in the same posture. I began to scream for help, but I knew none would come. My eyes closed and I started to pray for a quick death.

The hot breath from one of the hounds was on my hand when I heard one of them cry out in pain. I wanted to open my eyes, but the pained howl made me wince and close my eyes even tighter. There was a sudden dry snap like the cracking of ice followed by a heavy thud.

Another of the hellhounds was snarling and snapping its powerful jaw.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” I heard a familiar voice say. “Expected more of you to come, but I’ll take what I can get.”

I opened my eyes to see Malcolm standing before me, one hellhound on the ground at his feet, purple liquid leaking from its mouth. The other circled him warily, seeking an opportunity to strike at the huge man. Malcolm turned in a circle with the hound, arms out in a grappling stance.

The hellhound crouched deeply and lept forward toward the big man. Malcolm held out a meaty arm and the creature sank its teeth into his flesh. It thrashed wildly but Malcolm's squinted expression never changed.

He lifted the thing on his arm high in the air and brought it crashing down onto the parking lot. A muffled whimper escaped the beast but it maintained its hold. The big man began to rain blows onto the creature, compressing it between his meaty fist and the asphalt beneath.

An eruption of purple blood spilled from the corners of its mouth and its muscles shuddered as Malcolm pulverized the thing's internal organs. It began to breathe raggedly before releasing its jaws from his arm. Malcolm stood up straight and brought a healed boot down on the beast’s face with a sickening crunch.

Before I had a chance to speak, Malcolm lifted one of the beasts above his head and turned his face up. His face became long and his mouth grew wide. The bushy beard and eyebrows that had always covered his face stretched and revealed a set of bulbous yellow eyes and a mouth filled with dagger-like teeth.

He shoved one of the hounds in and swallowed it whole. His massive torso bulged as he bent to pick up the second hound. It slid into the nightmarish mouth and his stomach bulged even more.

His jaw retracted and the skin of his face tightened again, hiding the vicious mouth and yellow eyes. He turned to me and held a hand up to greet me as though he had just noticed I was there.

“Followed the pack here about a year ago,” he said matter of factly. “They took a special interest in you. Not everyone can see us. My kind only feeds on those that can.”

My jaw fell slack and my legs turned to jelly. I was no longer fastened to the ground and promptly fell backward. The big man walked toward me and held out a hand to help me up.

“What… what the hell are you?” I stammered in fear.

“Same thing as them, though I change up my appearance a bit,” he said as he rubbed his stomach with glee. “They crave the flesh of those who can see them. I’m a bit of an outcast. Developed a liking for the flesh of my kin. I follow the pack until they find a human to hunt. One that can see them. I’ll hang around for a bit, and wait for them to make a move. Then I pick a few off. The steaks keep the hunger at bay, but I need a true meal every year or two.”

“I was… I was bait?” I spat. “You used me as bait?”

“If that’s how you want to look at it,” he said as he began to walk away. “The pack will move on now. I stick around for a few weeks to make sure they don’t come back for you. Then I’ll move on and catch up with the pack.”

Malcolm, swollen with his hellish meal, wobbled toward the corner of the diner to make his way to the trees across the road. He turned and faced me before letting out an earth-shaking belch.

“Won’t be needing the steaks tonight, Justin,” he said jovially. “But I’ll leave some money on the counter. See you tomorrow!”