Town called West Thomas

Michael Wayne lived in a small duplex just outside town. Billy Stokes lived upstairs in the second apartment.

Michael sat down for dinner. A simple, relaxing task.

“Damn it!” Michael slammed his fist onto the small kitchen table. A bag of fast-food hamburgers fell to the ground.

He shouted at the ceiling as Billy Stokes dragged his feet across the thin floor planks.

“Pick up your goddamn feet!”

“Shut up, you prude. Mind your own. I got shit going on!”

“What kind of shit?” Michael asked.

“You have no family. You sit above me all goddamn day. What do you got to do?”

Michael listened as Billy swore and shuffled, followed by several heavy crashes. The building shook as something large tumbled over. Glass shattered, followed by a thud.

Silence.

“Stokes!” Michael shouted.

“Damnit… piece of shit,” he muttered as he threw on a coat and stepped out the front door. He growled and swung his arms as a car sped past.

“Speed limit, dumb ass,” he shouted as he rounded the corner of the house. Billy’s car sat centered in the drive.

“Come on. Really? How many times have we gone over this? Park on your own side.”

“If my knee goes, that’s on you.” Michael entered the shabby wooden staircase beside the two-story home. He approached Billy's door.

“Stokes!”

Michael slammed his fist on Billy’s door.

“Billy Stokes, are you alright?”

He tried the door and it opened. “Billy?”

Michael said, his rage replaced by a sweet smell mixed with beer and cigarettes. Something moved in the other room. Michael stepped forward. Glass shattered under his feet. The floor was littered with pictures. Frames, that hung on Billy’s walls, were now on the floor. Furniture tossed and scattered across the large living room. Billy’s large television lay upon a body.

“Billy!”

Michael ran over to the body. He lifted the television and set it aside. Billy’s body lie face-first on the floor. His body was cold and slow to respond. Michael flipped him over. The old man’s face was gray, eyes pale, but his chest rose and fell. Billy stared at the ceiling, not moving. After several moments, Billy blinked and turned his head as if recognizing Michael.

“What is wrong with you,” Michael asked.

Michael stood and stepped back. Billy stared at him. Michael watched as Billy sat up. He had all the characteristics of death, minus the breathing.

“A dead body doesn’t do this,” Michael thought.

The creature that was Billy stood. He rose to his knees then his feet. Billy stepped toward him. Michael leaned back against a wall. Billy lunged forward and ran at him. Michael, not a young man in any sense was barely able to dodge the assault.

“Billy—“, he thought, aa he attempted to describe it.

“The body—“ “A creature—“ Michael had no idea what it was.

The creature passed by and slammed into the wall behind him. The impact shook the entire apartment. Fear shimmied through his body. It turned, its face bloody. The eyes pale and dead looked through him. The creature, that had been Billy, screamed.

Michael lost the ability to stand and sank to the floor.

“What the hell are you?” He scooted backwards.

“You’re certainly not Billy”, he thought. “Whatever this is… it’s wrought”.

“What happened to Billy?” Michael’s thoughts frantic.

“Should I have been so mean?”

“What if I had forgiven him for taking Becky, my love?”

“No, not possible,” came an answer. “This was earned.” Anger filled his head. “I’m not done being angry at you, you cantankerous bastard. I don’t care what evil you brought into the world. You still killed my Becky.”

His leg’s suddenly had strength. He stood and faced the pale-eyed creature.

“I hate you,” he growled. “I’ve wanted to do this since that winter.”

Michael bent his arm at the elbow and pulled it back till it touched the wall behind him. He thrust it forward and struck Billy in the side of the face. Michael waited for a reaction. Some recognition, a feeling of justice but the creature stood silent.

His anger whisked away as the silence extended for long, drawn out seconds. It left him wondering, “what the hell did I just—“

The creature grabbed him by the throat and shoved him into a wall. It squeezed. Michael’s breath left him. He struggled against a human-like creature with immense strength, as it held him against the wall.

Michael felt needles stabbing at his throat. He struggled to breathe. The creature didn’t care. It stared forward. Its pupil-less eyes looked to the side. Its arm bent and face came closer to his. It’s breath putrid. The creature squeezed harder, like it was becoming impatient because Michael wasn’t dead yet.

Michael looked down. His head felt like it was going to explode. The creatures grip suddenly loosen. It stumbled where it stood. Air rushed in and Michael took in a breath.

“Billy’s god damn knee,” he thought.

“Oh my god… his damn knee just saved me.”

Michael kicked forward as the creature tried to recover. The knee went to the side and so did the creature. It released him and tumbled to the ground.

Michael weezed but he was alive. He got his feet under him and walked down the hallway. Behind him he heard the creature moaning. He looked back once to see Billy’s body trying to stand back up. Michael opened the door to the apartment and stepped outside. He closed the door and began the slow trip down the stairs.