Page 3 of Mean One

“That’s it?” I softly scoffed, reaching for the money. The fucker was shorting me. Gus grabbed my face and stopped me.

“Next time, show me a little more excitement.” His thumb ran along my lower lip, smudging the red color. “Then, I’ll pay you more.” He pressed harder against my mouth, hurting me. “I like hearing you make a little noise. Shows me you’re enjoying yourself as much as I am. You may think this is business, May, but deep down, I know it means more to you than that.” He kissed my forehead, lingering.

The unexpected sound of screams outside startled us both, and he quickly grabbed his coat and police hat, rushing from my room. “Stay inside!” Ignoring him, I grabbed a long robe and followed, dashing down the brothel stairs.

The street was packed with muttering townsfolk huddled over something just outside the brothel. Gus pushed his way through, his police chief hat now back on his head as he resumed his public image.

“Step aside!” He blew a whistle, and the people obeyed him, something I knew he liked a little too well. “Hells bells.” He dropped the whistle from his mouth, his pale face draining of all color.

My curiosity got the better of me as I forced my way through the crowd, everyone pushing and shoving me as I nearly bumped into him. Gus pushed me back as I finally saw what horrified him so, my own scream bleeding into the crowd as my eyes widened in fear. It was a man and what seemed to be a woman, her face destroyed, unrecognizable. They had been slaughtered and left in the street, their blood soaking into the snow around them like a blanket of velvet red. The man’s chest was shredded by what must’ve been an animal or beast of some kind, his throat torn apart.

“What creature could have done such a thing?” I asked, looking up at Gus.

He turned, and we both noticed something sticking out from the man’s jacket. He reached for it, pulling out what appeared to be a blood-stained piece of paper, and examined it close.

“May,” he quivered, handing me the paper. I gave him a confused look as I took it from his hand, reading the handwritten note addressed to me.

Did you think I was gone?

Say hello to Gus for me, May-Martha.

I’m coming for you.

“It can’t be,” I whispered, my eyes watering as I looked up at Gus again.

“He’s back, and it seems he’s coming for all of us.” My eyes frantically began to search the crowd, fear and anxiety consuming me.

He’s back. He’s really back, and he’s coming for me.

Just then, I heard an odd and eerie laugh. It reminded me of someone I knew long ago, someone I had almost forgotten about—a child from school.

I spun, searching the many faces, noticing something peeking out from the shadows across the street: a set of glowing yellow eyes. I knew those eyes. It was him. It was the Grouch.

He’s really here.

As I blinked, those burning, menacing yellow irises disappeared, leaving only a faint trail of that same eerie laughter. After all these years, he’d finally returned for his revenge.

I pushed through the crowd and rushed back inside the brothel, locking my bedroom door behind me. His note remained in my hand, the man’s blood now smeared across my skin. I threw it down and began to search my dresser, tossing clothes and belongings aside, rifling through every drawer.

“Where is it?” I snapped, distressed. “I know I had it somewhere. Where is it?” I pulled one of the wooden drawers out, groaning as I threw it against the wall. My heart was racing, my thoughts jumbled and conflicted.

It has to be here somewhere. It has to be!

I dropped to my knees, grabbing my head as I groaned and cried, frustrated with losing something so important.

Where is it?

I slammed my fist into the floor at the same time as I noticed something under my bed. I reached under, grabbing the small square tucked tightly between the boards. I pulled it out, standing as I stared at the dusty box. Relief and old feelings seeped from my body as I looked up at my reflection in the dresser mirror. The box brought a wave of buried emotions to the surface, forcing me to truly look at myself for the first time in so long.

I didn’t like who I saw looking back at me. After all these years, my features had remained the same despite my heart hardening. My hair was still long and brown, the curls framing my face as they reached my chest, my cheeks flushed a faint pink. The only physical change was the absence of the life that once danced behind my green eyes. It was gone, leaving them dead and dull, much like my soul.

Look at what you’ve become.

I held the box close, closing my eyes as I reminisced about the day it was given to me. I carefully opened it, staring at its contents, running my fingers along it while a single tear fell down my cheek.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

MAX

---