Hollawien Story: 3-2 of 3


  I dream of the sky above the clouds, of a moonlit night of flight searching the ground for movement.

   I know it is night but can see clearly as though my eyes have an inner spotlight that shines wherever I cast my gaze. I see many creatures with my night vision, small rodents, larger mammals and nocturnal birds that share the sky with me.

  I pass over a small town, I see people in pairs and larger groups I study but ultimately ignore them all until I spot a solitary woman walking down an unlit path in what appears to be an otherwise deserted City Park.

  My dream jumps, skips as though the ‘next scene’ button were pushed while watching a video playback of a movie.

  I don’t know how long I blacked out or what transpires next.

  My next vision is of feasting on not only the liquid version of Abuela’s brew, but also chucks of delicious flesh.

 Erica was there, the boy and Abuela too. It seemed natural for them to be with me.

  A week ago this would have been a nightmare, a story to tell my therapist to ask for her interpretation. Now it wasn’t horrible at all, it felt right, I felt free. It was in the midst of this exhilaration I realized that it wasn’t a dream, it felt that way because I wasn’t controlling my actions, but I was awake. I wasn’t operating on free will, I was operating on instinct. The same way a baby knows to feed from her mother’s tit, and a young boy on a school trip knows how to fuck; I knew how to survive. How to fly, to hunt, to kill, to eat the flesh and blood of humans. And I wasn’t disgusted or terrified of it. Why should I be? Just as a baby has to suck, daddy’s got to eat. 

  In the months that followed I learned what happened to me, how I became this way and why I would forever be the Papa to this family.

  They told me that my pal Tony had returned and tried to save me the night I called and told him I needed help, and in a way he did. That first meal, my first taste of my future was of Tony. It’s a shame he had to die, he was a good guy. I guess he was good in a way I had never thought of him before, turns out that he was delectable.

  They showed me why I thought young Erica was so desirable to me, a man whose taste in woman had always been of the MILF down the block, not of her daughter in high school. We can make regular people see what they want to see. That night I saw a woman that had experience and the look of desire in her eyes. Tony saw her from what she was, a chubby homely teenager with acne scars. Erica was after me, not Tony so her ‘charms’ were directed for only me to see. 

  Abuela told me that Julio had been the building super when she and Erica moved in half a century ago. How the boy who never spoke but loved his offal lollipops had been found by Julio living in the basement behind a bricked up wall by the boiler. Erica told me that the best they could guess was that he wanted a family. Julio became the father, Erica a big sister and Abuela, well that’s obvious. Erica didn’t know why he never chose someone to be a mom in the family, just that he probably never would.

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