Wednesday, October 24, 2012

Luco


Seen at the Fullerton Station Dunkin’ Donuts at about 8:45 a.m. 

“YOUR ORDER NUMBER IS 666,” flashed the cash register screen. 

Dammit. 

The cashier gave Luco a half smile and handed him his receipt. Did he detect a certain amount of doubt in her arched eyebrows? A terrified tension in the muscles of her neck? Dammit. She knows. 

She could see it in the bulging of his thick forehead, where his horns were hidden. She could see it in his skin, tinged the color of dried blood. Luco always thought it was funny how humans believed he’d hurt anyone and everyone. They should know that there’s a system to this, that calculations must be made, that he doesn’t punish on a whim. After all, they wrote him into existence in their holy texts. All Luco’s power was derived from those who made him and feared him.

Maybe he’d give her a little scare, just for fun. As the girl handed him his coffee, Luco dug his fingernails into her wrist and whispered: “I swear, if this has real sugar instead of Splenda, there will be hell to pay.” 

So many scary-creature-related stories this week! Ghosts, and werewolves, and demons, oh my. Halloween must be on the brain. I'm just afraid I won't have enough scary stories to give you next week! At least I can post the ones from the Mary Shelley party. Besides, I had to write this one--the cash register really did say that the number for the guy in front of me was 666. It was too perfect to resist.

I am taking the GRE tomorrow. Nervous nervous nervous. Wish me luck!

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