Page 40 of Guarded By the Phantom

I waved my hand dismissively. “Oh, we’re not like humans. I could already speak, walk, and find food. I was small, which also allowed me to hide better than if I had been with my parents. It’s a common practice to separate from your children when faced with a threat. This way, everyone has higher chances of survival.”

I paused, wondering how best to explain it to her so she wouldn’t think I was a psychopath. Though, of course, I was onein human terms. A human shrink made that diagnosis, and it almost cost me my job before Fatima decided to get a second opinion from someone who actually understood the intricacies of my species. That was when I met Nat.

Barbara waited patiently for me to gather my thoughts. I took up my story carefully, wanting to explain it to my best ability.

“Because you see, abomination children are supposed to hide. Adult abominations are equipped with this superb survival instinct, but it only kicks in in puberty. So I was kind of defenseless, and my best bet was hiding. My parents couldn’t hide with me, because that instinct forced them to fight.”

She nodded slowly, and I shifted, moving just a bit closer to her. She wasn’t running away. It was a good sign.

When I’d told this part to a girl before, when I was still interested in finding a long-term partner, she told me point blank I obviously had issues. She said she wouldn’t carry my baggage.

Well, Barbara was still here, though admittedly, she didn’t know I was falling for her like an idiot.

“So I hid. For eight years, it worked, until the same cult that finally got my parents found me. I slept in the desert but close enough to a small village where I sometimes stole food. They saw my little camp and caught me when I was asleep. I didn’t stand a chance.”

She said nothing, her eyes as big as saucers. I sighed and got up to get my ashtray. I lit a cigarette and settled down by her side, bracing myself for the next part.

I had to tell her and see what she did. Because in the end, Nat was right. It didn’t matter how or why, but I attached myself to this woman, and now the only reasonable course of action was to put this thing to the test. If she rejected me now, which was practically inevitable, I would be able to move on.

“So that cult had funny notions about abominations,” I said after blowing out a long stream of smoke. “They believed we were demons made of corpses—because of the skulls, you see? I’d say it was clever if it wasn’t so fucking ridiculous. Anyway, they had this ritual they did to cleanse the earth, and it involved burning an abomination alive.”

She hiccupped once, a forlorn, sad sound, and I reached out to clumsily mess her hair.

“Hey, it gets better. Anyway, they didn’t burn me at once. They displayed me, chained and all, for the village people. Many came to spit on me, throw rotten eggs, stuff like that. Kids would poke me with long sticks, and some of the adults recorded it.”

I swallowed, wondering if she would see the connection and my main reason why I practically jumped on her case.

“They got me on video crying from pain, even pissing myself,” I said, my voice growing cold and detached. “Those videos got uploaded onto the Internet at some point, and they still float up there. I tried to get them down but I couldn’t get them all. Lots of people enjoy watching that kind of stuff, especially with abominations.

“I don’t watch any sort of snuff, since I’m not that kind of sicko, but I’ve been told mine are the most popular, since I was so little and the videos are so detailed. They could get really close to me since I was chained and all.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said in a thick voice, touching my forearm gently.

I shrugged, giving her a grin. “Oh, don’t be. I have this tech whizz friend who tracks down people who share those videos. Sometimes, I pay them a visit when I get bored.”

“Do you… kill them?” she asked tentatively, her hand sliding off my forearm.

I shook my head. “Nah, it would be merciful. No, I don’t kill them. I tie them up and tip off the police, since those peoplehave lots of monster snuff and other forbidden materials like that. They usually get sent to coeducational prisons, and once the monsters learn what they are in for, there is lots of fun all around.”

She shivered but stayed put, watching me intently. “You mentioned… burning.”

I lit another cigarette.

“Ah, yes. So they had me, a boy of nine, his survival instinct still dormant. But that cult had had many losses and there were just a handful of them left, so maybe that’s why they targeted children. There were maybe a dozen once the villagers went home. Not that many.”

I took a long drag from the cigarette and offered it to her on impulse. She stared at it, nonplussed, and then shook her head with a faint smile.

“No? You’re right. It’s a filthy habit. So, they had me bound with chains and tied to a good, old-fashioned stake. The wood was old and dry, but the stake was sturdy, and the chains tight. They did their ritual—a bunch of stupid prayers, I didn’t pay attention—and lit me up.”

Her eyes, already wide, widened still. I grinned and shook my head, though the memory of that heat still lingered in my bones, surfacing whenever I remembered that night.

“We don’t burn like humans, of course,” I explained. “You guys turn into crispy bacon. We, well… Do you know how a pressure cooker works? No? Well, maybe it’s better that you don’t know. Thing is, it takes longer to burn us alive, since the armor isolates the worst of it. The plates lock up tight, and as the heat outside increases, the pressure inside grows, until we kind of, well, blow up. That’s what kills us. But it takes hours, which is why this is a dumb way to kill an abomination. If you’re smart, always aim for the eyes, doll. That’s how you can get us.”

“Okay,” she said hoarsely, clearing her throat. “How did you survive?”

“We’ll get to that,” I said with a smile, blowing smoke out so it streamed just above her head.

She shot me a weak glare, but she seemed too invested in my story to be really angry.

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