“Do you think they’ll understand everything that happened tonight?” She asks, looking up from her glass.
“I don’t fucking understand, and I was there, so no, I don’t,” he says as he empties the contents of his glass into his mouth.
“Then what’ll we tell them?” She asks.
“We lie, it’s the only thing we can do.”
“Isn’t that just going to make everything worse than what it already is?”
“How can it? How can it really make it worse?”
“I don’t know, I mean, we know the truth, we know what really happened, and who really did it, why don’t we just tell them?” She says.
“They’re going to think we’re stark raving mad, and then we’re suspects, no, I say we just lie, keep our mouths shut and get the fuck out of town, both of use, together, separately, I don’t really fucking care. But whatever we do, we get the fuck out of here before it’s too late.”
“No, that’s crazy, I’ve lived here my whole life, and I’m not about to run away because of a possibility.”
“Are you serious? A possibility? Really? We both saw it didn’t we? I wasn’t the only one, I mean, I’m gathering you did, because you sure as hell looked like you saw something, and the fact you pissed your jeans tells me you fucking saw something, so don’t be a cock.”
“I’m not being a cock, and I don’t mean possibility, as in I didn’t see anything, I mean possibility as in, do we even rate as potential targets?” She says.
“I’d say we fucking do, that thing, whatever it is wasn’t too happy we escaped, and I’d bet my life on that son of a bitch coming for us just as soon as it can,” he replies.
“Wouldn’t you think it would’ve already made its move? It’s been six hours, I don’t think it’s coming, so maybe we frightened it off, or better yet, killed it.”
“How in the fuck would we have done that? Last I saw that thing had Thomas Darby in its busted arsed clutches and was swinging him around like he was nothing. So tell me genius, how the fuck would we have managed to kill it?”
“Fuck, okay, maybe we didn’t kill it, but maybe we frighted it off.”
“How? Eighteen people in the twelve hours have gone missing, EIGHTEEN, and we’re lower order shit compared to some of those, god, Jerry Velcher’s place was shot up like a war zone, he got off three hundred an seventy two separate shots, and nothing, not a drop of blood, not a speck of anything, including Jerry. So I don’t see how you screaming and pissing yourself and me crying for my mum would have scared this thing off.”
“Okay, I’m just throwing out suggestions, don’t take it out on me.”
“I’m not taking it out on you, I’m just saying, you’re not thinking, you’re frightened, a little on edge, and that’s why we lie, because right now, the truth is better left off the table, trust me.”
“I’m still not sure, but I do know I need to go home, I need to sleep, and then we can talk about it tomorrow, when we’re both rested and level headed,” she says as she gets to her feet and pulls her jacket from the chair.
“I won’t be here Suzie, I’ll be long gone, I ain’t waiting around.”
“You do that, if you have to,” she says as she quickly pulls her jacket on, her sheriffs badge reflects the light into his eyes for a moment, “I’ll do what I have to, because no matter how shit scarred I am, no ten foot Netflix wanna be monster is going to scare me away from my town.”
You can read the original 50 Word Story here, I’d be interested in what you think of the full story that came from the short.