I’m Jo. I’m a freelance tour guide, artist, and former detective with a taste for the cards. I lost a fortune, gained it back, and lost most of it again. I’m not hurting, but I do a lot of economizing so I don’t have to get a real job.
I’m in downtown Las Vegas waiting for the bus when the air freezes around me. Strange, it was over 100 degrees just a second ago. The smell of rot and decay tips me off. It’s a beast from the abyss. I can tell because the scenery wavers like a bad video and the other people at the bus stop have stopped moving. The beast doesn’t look like a beast. He looks like he goes by Chad. He’s wearing nantucket red cargo shorts and a pale green button down. I check the shoes. White sneakers, no socks.
I’m tired after a long hard day of playing poker. I whip out the handy crucifix I keep for these encounters. Summoning faith, I hold it between me and the beast.
“I am not afraid of your cross. I am not Christian and do not believe in your God.” Beast grabs the cross necklace and puts it around its neck. “I am older than your God.”
“So, what’s the point of picking on me, a puny human who cannot fight, who is not important in the scheme of human endeavors, and has nothing.”
“A light snack to fill the emptiness. I hunger and the void cannot be filled. I wish a dainty, such as you, to ease myself until I can find better prey.”
“Why not someone stronger? I am only one tiny snack and you are great. We are in the greatest of hunting grounds if you wish to prey on others, other than D.C.” I start listing names.
“A void cannot fill a void. No matter how tasty, I cannot live on such.”
“But are you alive if all you are is an abyss to be filled? Have you tried the taco place over on Losee? Best tacos in town and a great view of the freeway. I’ll buy if you fly.”
“Wretch! I will not be distracted. You are the snack of all snacks. You are a filling meal of substance. It is your soul I want, though tacos do sound delicious.”
“These are the best tacos in town. I can also introduce you to some of the food trucks off of Maryland Parkway – the Birria is to die for. Melted cheese between corn tortillas wrapped around juicy chunks of goat meat and topped with cilantro and onions.” I stop talking. Chad is from the abyss, goat meat should be a perfect recommendation.
“I’ll check it out. If it’s not as promised, I’ll be back for your soul – as desert.”
The sudden heat staggers me. Another round won, but for how long?
Copyright 2023 Mercedes Delacruz
MercyJ Writes 