Tales of the Blood Moon

Kids Slay the Darndest Things

Quincy wheels hispickup into a parking spot at the service station. He's justfinished his shift at the plant and he's going to get a lotteryticket before heading home. Quincy buys a lottery ticket almostevery day. Entering the service station, Quincy catches sight of aman in his late-fifties, seated inside a luxury car, watching him. Distracted momentarily by the man in the luxury car, Quincy almostbumps into a pair of police officers. The tall officer steps aroundhim and catches the door before it closes, while the shorter officerstruggles to unwrap a single-serving cherry pie.

Quincy heads tothe counter, pays for his lottery ticket and exits the station tofind the man, who was formerly seated inside a luxury car, nowstanding next to Quincy's pickup.

"Can I help youwith something?" Quincy asks, mildly annoyed.

"No, my friend,"the man replies, smiling broadly, "it is I who can help you."

"Yeah,whatever," Quincy replies, stepping past the man.

"Buddy," theman states slyly, walking toward his car and gesturing for Quincy tofollow "I think you'll want to see this."

In an effort tosimply get this encounter finished, Quincy walks with the man to thetrunk of his car. The man hits a button on his key fob and the trunkopens. Peering inside, Quincy sees a computer monitor with a livefeed of his seven year old son, bound and gagged, on the floor ofwhat appears to be a barn. Quincy's expression shifts rapidly fromsurprise to, what Percy can only conclude, is indifference.

"No thanks,"Quincy says, walking back to his pickup. "I've been looking toditch that little shit for years. Costs a fortune to keep himaround."

Stunned, Percy canonly stare as Quincy walks back to his truck. Finally, Percy slamsthe trunk shut and stomps across the lot toward Quincy.

"I'm not fuckingaround," Percy snarls. "You either pay up or I'll kill thatlittle bastard."

Quincy shrugs andhops into his truck. Frustrated, Percy storms away, stopping onlylong enough to shout over his shoulder, "We'll see how you feelwhen I mail you one of his fingers!" Quincy doesn't even botherlooking over at Percy, causing Percy to angrily slam the door of hiscar and race out of the lot.

Quincy turns upthe radio and heads for home. Stopping at a light near the communityrec center, he catches sight of a young lady, probably in herlate-teens, that reminds him of someone he once knew and loved. Theyoung lady walks past with her head down, dirty-blonde hair obscuringmost of her features. She has both arms folded across her chest andonly glances up every few seconds. While this young lady is similarin appearance to the one he used to know and love, she has none ofthe confidence of his old flame. In some ways, Quincy still missesthe woman he once knew and, in other ways, wishes he'd never met herat all.

Quincy finallymakes it home, cooks dinner for himself and watches a littletelevision. Disappointed that his lottery ticket didn't have thewinning number, he decides to go to bed early. He's halfway to hisbedroom when he hears a key twist in the lock of his front door. Quincy pauses, leaning against the wall, as his son walks into thehouse. His son's face, as well as the front of his shirt, is smearedwith blood.

"Bedtime,"Quincy says, nodding toward his son's room. "Take a shower beforeyou get in there. Leave the clothes on the floor. I'll get 'em whenI wake up."

Quincy enters hisbedroom, closes and locks the door behind him and crawls into bed. It's been almost eight years since Quincy found that beautiful,pregnant, young woman with the dirty-blonde hair hitchhiking down thestreet and made her his girlfriend. It's been over seven years sinceher child was born. Quincy thought he and the woman could make alife together, but that all came to an end when she died inchildbirth. Quincy adopted the baby and took on the responsibilityof raising the kid on his own. He only wishes he'd paid moreattention when his girlfriend tried to tell him that her child wouldbe different. "Different" is certainly an understatement. Notonly does the kid eat three times as much as a normal child, he hasthe knack for attracting all sorts of weirdos; kidnappers, pedophiles- anyone and everyone that might want to take a child.

Quincy wasterrified for his son the first time the boy went missing. OnceQuincy found the kid - and the half-eaten corpse of the kidnapper -he became less terrified for his son and more terrified ofhis son. Since then, Quincy has been buying lottery ticketsevery day. All he needs is to hit it big enough to be able to moveout of the country and leave the kid behind. Someday that kid'sbiological father might come calling, and Quincy would hate to meetthe man who could create something like that.