I don’t know how to go about this situation with out sounding completely irresponsible but I just need some opinions.

This past saturday we had a get together at our house. We had a fire pit in the back yard. At one point one of my husband’s "Friends" starting getting rather violent. We asked him to leave. He wouldn’t. He would stand outside our fenced in yard staring at us so at one point we decided to just go inside and forget about him. We left our fire pit with some hot coals on the fire but it was not a raging fire whats so ever just some hot coals. After about 30 minutes we went back outside to smoke a cigarette and our patio chairs were on top of the fire, my daughters plastic toys were on top of the fire pit. It was obvious this person had done this so my husband went after him since he was still in the area just standing there. They got into a fight and the police were called. They were asking questions to my husband to bring about assault charges against him for attacking the guy which, to be honest, I can see why. He should not have gone after him for a fight. BUT the cops never even looked at the back yard and the furniture which was burned and cushions that were melted our fire pit table is black and burnt up.

Where do we stand with this. We want to bring charges against him so he will have to pay for our ruined stuff…. but since there was no police report about the fire we don’t feel we have a case. I kept repeating over and over that he set a fire to our patio furniture but they just kept saying this was an assault call and no mention of the fire

it just boggles my mind that he will get away with this. I know my husband was in the wrong for going after him (my husband got really hurt, broken ribs, broken wrist, etc) and we dont even want to file charges about that BUT the fire is what we want taken care of and our 500 patio set is GONE now.

I secretly want to get into a barfight where I hit someone across the back with a barstool, break a pool stick in half and use them as nunchucks and break a bottle over the bar so it’s sharp and jagged and I use it to fend off would be attackers who try to mess with me. I have another one where I flick a cigarette into the gutter and it accidentally blows up a parked car.

My husband can’t kick the nicotine habit (he doesn’t want to). He now lives in a wheelchair. I took him to a social gathering of old friends at a bar yesterday. He was enjoying the visit, but after about an hour I had to move him in his wheelchair to a place outside the building, so he could have a cigarette, after which I had to move him back inside again. It’s was terribly inconvenient, we had to ask several people to move their chairs. Is there any other nicotine equivalent that an addict like him could use that would be the equivalent of a cigarette? I’ll swear if I had an uncontrollable habit like that, I would know what the alternatives are.
He doesn’t WANT to QUIT. I’m just looking for an alternative that would make life easier for the rest of us. Instead of having to wheel him outside so he can smoke, give him something that will fill the craving until later.

Shehab sat at a three-legged stool in front of the company’s gate, resting his elbow against his knee and bending forward as he smoked at a cigarette. He took a breath, blew out the smoke then examined the cigarette with furrowed eyebrows.

He wore a blue shirt with a black jacket over it. He had grey hair, receding at the sides and a grey moustache that grew right above the middle of his upper lip.

He got to his feet and walked to the other side of the street. He stood over the sidewalk, placing his hands deep into his pockets and shrugging as a cold breeze of air blew. By the time, he was turning on another cigarette, a tall man with a hunched back, slight hair above his forehead and a thin moustache, came walking down the street. He stopped at Shehab, offering his hand to him. “The keys,”

Shehab placed three keys in the man’s hand. “ I’m leaving. Wanna anything?”

“Thanks,” The man wore a similar blue shirt but with a black pullover over it. “Don’t be late. I’ll leave at six in the morning,”

Shehab nodded and waved at the man as he walked down the street, with his head drooping forward and his hands placed in his pockets.

How many days have passed since the last time he saw his wife? A month? He got used to her not being around the house, making some noise in her shrill voice.

All that remained for him was his daughter, Nada.

He lived in a small apartment at the fifth floor in red-bricked building. The street of the building was narrow and filled with noises all day long.

He went up the stairs. The steps were wavy at the sides that he had to walk on the tips of his feet. He stopped at the wooden door of the apartment. It had metal bars painted in green.

Placing one hand at his mouth as he yawned, he knocked at the door.

Nada opened the door, holding a mug of tea in her hand. A red veil stood over her shoulders and her brown hair; fell down to her back in a short braid. She had narrow eyes and a small nose. Her chin was pointed and her ears were rather big but drawn back against her head.

“Wanna eat, now?” Nada said to shehab, sitting with her knees close on the sofa, watching TV and still holding the mug of tea

“If you joined me,” Shehab said, walking out of the bathroom, in his white undershirt, rubbing his wet head with a pink towel. He smiled at his daughter, straightening his hair with his fat fingers.

“I already ate,” she said, “I’ll go to sleep.”

After placing the mug of tea to her side on the sofa, she got to her feet and walked to her room. She stopped on the door of her room and turned to Shehab who stood still in his place, holding the towel against his shoulder.

“Dad,” She said, resting against the frame of the door with her chest and pointing with her fingers. “I talked with Ali and we decided that the wedding party will be next Thursday.” She shook her head and waved with her hand. “I though you just have to know,” she walked to her room and closed the door behind her.

Shehab remained standing in his place, with his feet bare over the crimson carpet and the towel hanging from his shoulder. He seemed to be gazing at someone faraway. Once again, he would be alone, but this time, he’d be alone forever.

The day of his daughter’s wedding came. They made the wedding at the roof of the house. He sat at a wooden chair near the side of the roof. The white shirt was tight, so he had to lower down his trousers to give some freedom to his protruding belly. His fat chin made layers above his green cravat.

The music went on for hours. The pride and the groom started dancing and then friends joined, all smiling and dancing to the raucous beat of the music, the music that would stop in a few hours, and never be played again.

Shehab didn’t move from his chair. Whenever his daughter looked at him, he’d smile swiftly and lower his head to the ground, clicking the tiled floor with his leather shoes.

The wedding ended. Nada was about to leave with her husband, but she patted her husbands hand, smiled at him and walked away to her father who was still sitting with his sight lowered.

“Dad,” Nada said, bowing forward and placing a hand at her father’s shoulder. “I’ll come to visit every week.”

Shehab didn’t raise his head from the ground. He nodded and crossed his arms over his chest then brought his legs closer.

“Dad, are you alright?”

Shehab nodded once again, not saying a word.

“Dad,” She placed a soft kiss over his head, “take care of yourself.”

Nada walked away into her husband’s arms. She descended the stairs slowly, as if not knowing whether to leave or stay.
Shehab remained on his chair; his head lowered, his arms crossed and his feet close together. He remained on his chair till the sun rose and the sky turned pale blue, then the clouds gathered up, then the sky turned purple, then black. He remained on his chair till his chest stopped heaving with every breath. He remained on his chair till a cold breeze of air drove down his dead body to the tiled floor.

Chapter one.

The woman scurried down the street, pressing her bleeding left knee with her slender hand and stealing quick looks behind her. She knew he was following her. The lampposts at her side offered no guidance; they all stood silently, their heads fogged with dust as if they existed in a place forgotten by time.

She gasped louder as she pulled her wounded leg behind her, unable to bear it anymore. The pain surged through her lower body and blurred her eyes. She wished for a voice to offer her a temporary refuge in the ever-increasing coldness of the night, but the buildings that surrounded her were all stark and dim as the trees facing them.

After sometime, she glimpsed the light of a far store she quickened her pace towards it. Footsteps emerged behind her. Afraid to turn her eyes from the store, she struggled faster down the street, convincing herself that it was just the sound of her high heels over the asphalt; it was just an illusion.

After falling to her knees in front of the store, she called out. “Help…someone…help me…”

A tall man appeared out of the store. He had a cigarette at his mouth. His face was brown and wrinkled; his eyes blue, narrow, and his chest bare and lined from the inside with the evident bones of his rib cage.

“He’s following me…I can’t walk…”

After placing her arm around his neck, he lifted her from under her armpit and dragged her into the store.

“What’s wrong…?” The man asked after placing her on a stool. “Who’s following you?”

“I can’t tell you…” She screamed. “Do something…please…the pain ….my feet is hurting me….help.”

“I can’t help you unless you tell me who’s following you.”

“I won’t tell you…” she screamed once again and kicked the man in his knee. The man shrieked and slapped her. Unable to balance herself over the stool, she fell to her face, crying at the ceiling. “Someone help me….” She scampered towards the door of the store. Every minute that passed, she knew, he was getting nearer to her. Soon enough, she would die.
Chapter 2

The man with the blue scar against his cheek stood at the door of the shack. It was still dark. The trees surrounding the shack shivered in the cold night air, filling the forest with furtive howling sounds. The lady escaped him this time. He would never allow it to happen the next time, but before this time came he first had to rest.

Inside the shack, he took off his black leather jacket and placed it at the hook behind the kitchen door. After standing naked in the dark, he walked to the small window above the red couch, and narrowed his eyes. He was waiting for someone important, someone that brought him news that he had been waiting for since last month.

He walked to a small table standing in the middle of the shack. He opened a small jar and took out a young girl’s ear. Slowly, he nibbled at the edges. He had been eating human flesh since he was twelve. He usually savored the soft parts like the ears and the nose.

Some minutes later, he sat down inside the small tub standing beside the door. The water was so cold like his skin and as his wounds unleashed their blood into the water, he sighed and started humming a repetitive lullaby that his mother used to sing to him when he was young.

He fell into a deep sleep in which he dreamt of the old lady he was trying to kill. She appeared out of a foggy street, ran at him and tugged at his throat, peeling his skin with her purple nails.

The door of the shack creaked open. He shivered, sat up and after raising the red handled knife above his head, he stepped out of the tub and walked, still naked, to the other man that went into the shack, his name was Ewan. His baldhead glimmered against the light of the small bulb that dangled down the ceiling from a white wire.

“Sorry for interrupting,” he said, “I know you were waiting for me.”

He nodded. “Have you brought it to me?”

“Yes sir,” Ewan dipped his hand into his brown jacket and tugged out a brown strand of hair. He placed it against the man’s wet shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said, “Now, you mission is finished.”

Ewan’s eyes widened and he walked backward; his hands shivering. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s ok. Just calm down.”

“You won’t kill me…” Ewan yelled at his master, throwing a small stone from his pocket at his face. “I trusted you. I helped you…”

He smiled and lowered his face. “I know. That is why I will kill you. You helped me and your mission is done. You are an extra organ in the cycle of life. You should die to give space to someone else…”

“You’re mad…”

“That’s why I survive…”

Ewan’ back trembled against the door before he could turn to open it, the man with scar at his cheek, raised the knife and dipped it three times at his neck; three was his favorite number.
Chapter 3

The man with the red scar at his face was called Ivan. Twenty years ago, he used to live with his father in the same shack where he lives no
Chapter 3

The man with the red scar at his face was called Ivan. Twenty years ago, he used to live with his father in the same shack where he lives now. Every morning, his father would wake him up by poking him in the side with the same red handled knife. Ivan got used to the sight of the knife, so he did not shiver or scream at seeing his father pointing a knife at his face every morning. Although he loved knives and all sort of pointy weapons, he wished that his father would kiss him every morning instead of poking the knife at his side.

It was on the morning of fifth of June that terror began to take control of Ivan’s mind, body and soul. After eating breakfast with his father outside the shack, his father got to his feet and smiled at Ivan. “today.” He looked at the grey sky and spoke once again. “Today…I’ll teach you how to get rid of the ones you love.”

Ivan’s father, Mygott, was a tall, well-built man with a grey moustache that arched down to the sides of his lips. He had o

Chapter one.

The woman scurried down the street, pressing her bleeding left knee with her slender hand and stealing quick looks behind her. She knew he was following her. The lampposts at her side offered no guidance; they all stood silently, their heads fogged with dust as if they existed in a place forgotten by time.

She gasped louder as she pulled her wounded leg behind her, unable to bear it anymore. The pain surged through her lower body and blurred her eyes. She wished for a voice to offer her a temporary refuge in the ever-increasing coldness of the night, but the buildings that surrounded her were all stark and dim as the trees facing them.

After sometime, she glimpsed the light of a far store she quickened her pace towards it. Footsteps emerged behind her. Afraid to turn her eyes from the store, she struggled faster down the street, convincing herself that it was just the sound of her high heels over the asphalt; it was just an illusion.

After falling to her knees in front of the store, she called out. “Help…someone…help me…”

A tall man appeared out of the store. He had a cigarette at his mouth. His face was brown and wrinkled; his eyes blue, narrow, and his chest bare and lined from the inside with the evident bones of his rib cage.

“He’s following me…I can’t walk…”

After placing her arm around his neck, he lifted her from under her armpit and dragged her into the store.

“What’s wrong…?” The man asked after placing her on a stool. “Who’s following you?”

“I can’t tell you…” She screamed. “Do something…please…the pain ….my feet is hurting me….help.”

“I can’t help you unless you tell me who’s following you.”

“I won’t tell you…” she screamed once again and kicked the man in his knee. The man shrieked and slapped her. Unable to balance herself over the stool, she fell to her face, crying at the ceiling. “Someone help me….” She scampered towards the door of the store. Every minute that passed, she knew, he was getting nearer to her. Soon enough, she would die.

Chapter 2

The man with the blue scar against his cheek stood at the door of the shack. It was still dark. The trees surrounding the shack shivered in the cold night air, filling the forest with furtive howling sounds. The lady escaped him this time. He would never allow it to happen the next time, but before this time came he first had to rest.

Inside the shack, he took off his black leather jacket and placed it at the hook behind the kitchen door. After standing naked in the dark, he walked to the small window above the red couch, and narrowed his eyes. He was waiting for someone important, someone that brought him news that he had been waiting for since last month.

He walked to a small table standing in the middle of the shack. He opened a small jar and took out a young girl’s ear. Slowly, he nibbled at the edges. He had been eating human flesh since he was twelve. He usually savored the soft parts like the ears and the nose.

Some minutes later, he sat down inside the small tub standing beside the door. The water was so cold like his skin and as his wounds unleashed their blood into the water, he sighed and started humming a repetitive lullaby that his mother used to sing to him when he was young.

He fell into a deep sleep in which he dreamt of the old lady he was trying to kill. She appeared out of a foggy street, ran at him and tugged at his throat, peeling his skin with her purple nails.

The door of the shack creaked open. He shivered, sat up and after raising the red handled knife above his head, he stepped out of the tub and walked, still naked, to the other man that went into the shack, his name was Ewan. His baldhead glimmered against the light of the small bulb that dangled down the ceiling from a white wire.

“Sorry for interrupting,” he said, “I know you were waiting for me.”

He nodded. “Have you brought it to me?”

“Yes sir,” Ewan dipped his hand into his brown jacket and tugged out a brown strand of hair. He placed it against the man’s wet shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said, “Now, you mission is finished.”

Ewan’s eyes widened and he walked backward; his hands shivering. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s ok. Just calm down.”

“You won’t kill me…” Ewan yelled at his master, throwing a small stone from his pocket at his face. “I trusted you. I helped you…”

He smiled and lowered his face. “I know. That is why I will kill you. You helped me and your mission is done. You are an extra organ in the cycle of life. You should die to give space to someone else…”

“You’re mad…”

“That’s why I survive…”

Ewan’ back trembled against the door before he could turn to open it, the man with scar at his cheek, raised the knife and dipped it three times at his neck; three was his favorite number.

Was at the bar counter in a pub. This guy sitting 2 chairs away wanted to light up his cigarette but did not have lighter. I kindly lent my lighter to him. He did not bother to thank me, lighted up his cigarette and kept the lighter with him and never bothered to return lighter. I asked for lighter back and he pass it back to me without even apologising.
No, Jim. Pub is general sense of the word as in a watering hole, bar, 19th hole. No we did not smoke in British pub

Chapter one.

The woman scurried down the street, pressing her bleeding left knee with her slender hand and stealing quick looks behind her. She knew he was following her. The lampposts at her side offered no guidance; they all stood silently, their heads fogged with dust as if they existed in a place forgotten by time.

She gasped louder as she pulled her wounded leg behind her, unable to bear it anymore. The pain surged through her lower body and blurred her eyes. She wished for a voice to offer her a temporary refuge in the ever-increasing coldness of the night, but the buildings that surrounded her were all stark and dim as the trees facing them.

After sometime, she glimpsed the light of a far store she quickened her pace towards it. Footsteps emerged behind her. Afraid to turn her eyes from the store, she struggled faster down the street, convincing herself that it was just the sound of her high heels over the asphalt; it was just an illusion.

After falling to her knees in front of the store, she called out. “Help…someone…help me…”

A tall man appeared out of the store. He had a cigarette at his mouth. His face was brown and wrinkled; his eyes blue, narrow, and his chest bare and lined from the inside with the evident bones of his rib cage.

“He’s following me…I can’t walk…”

After placing her arm around his neck, he lifted her from under her armpit and dragged her into the store.

“What’s wrong…?” The man asked after placing her on a stool. “Who’s following you?”

“I can’t tell you…” She screamed. “Do something…please…the pain ….my feet is hurting me….help.”

“I can’t help you unless you tell me who’s following you.”

“I won’t tell you…” she screamed once again and kicked the man in his knee. The man shrieked and slapped her. Unable to balance herself over the stool, she fell to her face, crying at the ceiling. “Someone help me….” She scampered towards the door of the store. Every minute that passed, she knew, he was getting nearer to her. Soon enough, she would die.

Chapter 2

The man with the blue scar against his cheek stood at the door of the shack. It was still dark. The trees surrounding the shack shivered in the cold night air, filling the forest with furtive howling sounds. The lady escaped him this time. He would never allow it to happen the next time, but before this time came he first had to rest.

Inside the shack, he took off his black leather jacket and placed it at the hook behind the kitchen door. After standing naked in the dark, he walked to the small window above the red couch, and narrowed his eyes. He was waiting for someone important, someone that brought him news that he had been waiting for since last month.

He walked to a small table standing in the middle of the shack. He opened a small jar and took out a young girl’s ear. Slowly, he nibbled at the edges. He had been eating human flesh since he was twelve. He usually savored the soft parts like the ears and the nose.

Some minutes later, he sat down inside the small tub standing beside the door. The water was so cold like his skin and as his wounds unleashed their blood into the water, he sighed and started humming a repetitive lullaby that his mother used to sing to him when he was young.

He fell into a deep sleep in which he dreamt of the old lady he was trying to kill. She appeared out of a foggy street, ran at him and tugged at his throat, peeling his skin with her purple nails.

The door of the shack creaked open. He shivered, sat up and after raising the red handled knife above his head, he stepped out of the tub and walked, still naked, to the other man that went into the shack, his name was Ewan. His baldhead glimmered against the light of the small bulb that dangled down the ceiling from a white wire.

“Sorry for interrupting,” he said, “I know you were waiting for me.”

He nodded. “Have you brought it to me?”

“Yes sir,” Ewan dipped his hand into his brown jacket and tugged out a brown strand of hair. He placed it against the man’s wet shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said, “Now, you mission is finished.”

Ewan’s eyes widened and he walked backward; his hands shivering. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s ok. Just calm down.”

“You won’t kill me…” Ewan yelled at his master, throwing a small stone from his pocket at his face. “I trusted you. I helped you…”

He smiled and lowered his face. “I know. That is why I will kill you. You helped me and your mission is done. You are an extra organ in the cycle of life. You should die to give space to someone else…”

“You’re mad…”

“That’s why I survive…”

Ewan’ back trembled against the door before he could turn to open it, the man with scar at his cheek, raised the knife and dipped it three times at his neck; three was his favorite number.

Chapter one.

The woman scurried down the street, pressing her bleeding left knee with her slender hand and stealing quick looks behind her. She knew he was following her. The lampposts at her side offered no guidance; they all stood silently, their heads fogged with dust as if they existed in a place forgotten by time.

She gasped louder as she pulled her wounded leg behind her, unable to bear it anymore. The pain surged through her lower body and blurred her eyes. She wished for a voice to offer her a temporary refuge in the ever-increasing coldness of the night, but the buildings that surrounded her were all stark and dim as the trees facing them.

After sometime, she glimpsed the light of a far store she quickened her pace towards it. Footsteps emerged behind her. Afraid to turn her eyes from the store, she struggled faster down the street, convincing herself that it was just the sound of her high heels over the asphalt; it was just an illusion.

After falling to her knees in front of the store, she called out. “Help…someone…help me…”

A tall man appeared out of the store. He had a cigarette at his mouth. His face was brown and wrinkled; his eyes blue, narrow, and his chest bare and lined from the inside with the evident bones of his rib cage.

“He’s following me…I can’t walk…”

After placing her arm around his neck, he lifted her from under her armpit and dragged her into the store.

“What’s wrong…?” The man asked after placing her on a stool. “Who’s following you?”

“I can’t tell you…” She screamed. “Do something…please…the pain ….my feet is hurting me….help.”

“I can’t help you unless you tell me who’s following you.”

“I won’t tell you…” she screamed once again and kicked the man in his knee. The man shrieked and slapped her. Unable to balance herself over the stool, she fell to her face, crying at the ceiling. “Someone help me….” She scampered towards the door of the store. Every minute that passed, she knew, he was getting nearer to her. Soon enough, she would die.

Chapter 2

The man with the blue scar against his cheek stood at the door of the shack. It was still dark. The trees surrounding the shack shivered in the cold night air, filling the forest with furtive howling sounds. The lady escaped him this time. He would never allow it to happen the next time, but before this time came he first had to rest.

Inside the shack, he took off his black leather jacket and placed it at the hook behind the kitchen door. After standing naked in the dark, he walked to the small window above the red couch, and narrowed his eyes. He was waiting for someone important, someone that brought him news that he had been waiting for since last month.

He walked to a small table standing in the middle of the shack. He opened a small jar and took out a young girl’s ear. Slowly, he nibbled at the edges. He had been eating human flesh since he was twelve. He usually savored the soft parts like the ears and the nose.

Some minutes later, he sat down inside the small tub standing beside the door. The water was so cold like his skin and as his wounds unleashed their blood into the water, he sighed and started humming a repetitive lullaby that his mother used to sing to him when he was young.

He fell into a deep sleep in which he dreamt of the old lady he was trying to kill. She appeared out of a foggy street, ran at him and tugged at his throat, peeling his skin with her purple nails.

The door of the shack creaked open. He shivered, sat up and after raising the red handled knife above his head, he stepped out of the tub and walked, still naked, to the other man that went into the shack, his name was Ewan. His baldhead glimmered against the light of the small bulb that dangled down the ceiling from a white wire.

“Sorry for interrupting,” he said, “I know you were waiting for me.”

He nodded. “Have you brought it to me?”

“Yes sir,” Ewan dipped his hand into his brown jacket and tugged out a brown strand of hair. He placed it against the man’s wet shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said, “Now, you mission is finished.”

Ewan’s eyes widened and he walked backward; his hands shivering. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s ok. Just calm down.”

“You won’t kill me…” Ewan yelled at his master, throwing a small stone from his pocket at his face. “I trusted you. I helped you…”

He smiled and lowered his face. “I know. That is why I will kill you. You helped me and your mission is done. You are an extra organ in the cycle of life. You should die to give space to someone else…”

“You’re mad…”

“That’s why I survive…”

Ewan’ back trembled against the door before he could turn to open it, the man with scar at his cheek, raised the knife and dipped it three times at his neck; three was his favorite number.

Chapter one.

The woman scurried down the street, pressing her bleeding left knee with her slender hand and stealing quick looks behind her. She knew he was following her. The lampposts at her side offered no guidance; they all stood silently, their heads fogged with dust as if they existed in a place forgotten by time.

She gasped louder as she pulled her wounded leg behind her, unable to bear it anymore. The pain surged through her lower body and blurred her eyes. She wished for a voice to offer her a temporary refuge in the ever-increasing coldness of the night, but the buildings that surrounded her were all stark and dim as the trees facing them.

After sometime, she glimpsed the light of a far store she quickened her pace towards it. Footsteps emerged behind her. Afraid to turn her eyes from the store, she struggled faster down the street, convincing herself that it was just the sound of her high heels over the asphalt; it was just an illusion.

After falling to her knees in front of the store, she called out. “Help…someone…help me…”

A tall man appeared out of the store. He had a cigarette at his mouth. His face was brown and wrinkled; his eyes blue, narrow, and his chest bare and lined from the inside with the evident bones of his rib cage.

“He’s following me…I can’t walk…”

After placing her arm around his neck, he lifted her from under her armpit and dragged her into the store.

“What’s wrong…?” The man asked after placing her on a stool. “Who’s following you?”

“I can’t tell you…” She screamed. “Do something…please…the pain ….my feet is hurting me….help.”

“I can’t help you unless you tell me who’s following you.”

“I won’t tell you…” she screamed once again and kicked the man in his knee. The man shrieked and slapped her. Unable to balance herself over the stool, she fell to her face, crying at the ceiling. “Someone help me….” She scampered towards the door of the store. Every minute that passed, she knew, he was getting nearer to her. Soon enough, she would die.
Chapter 2

The man with the blue scar against his cheek stood at the door of the shack. It was still dark. The trees surrounding the shack shivered in the cold night air, filling the forest with furtive howling sounds. The lady escaped him this time. He would never allow it to happen the next time, but before this time came he first had to rest.

Inside the shack, he took off his black leather jacket and placed it at the hook behind the kitchen door. After standing naked in the dark, he walked to the small window above the red couch, and narrowed his eyes. He was waiting for someone important, someone that brought him news that he had been waiting for since last month.

He walked to a small table standing in the middle of the shack. He opened a small jar and took out a young girl’s ear. Slowly, he nibbled at the edges. He had been eating human flesh since he was twelve. He usually savored the soft parts like the ears and the nose.

Some minutes later, he sat down inside the small tub standing beside the door. The water was so cold like his skin and as his wounds unleashed their blood into the water, he sighed and started humming a repetitive lullaby that his mother used to sing to him when he was young.

He fell into a deep sleep in which he dreamt of the old lady he was trying to kill. She appeared out of a foggy street, ran at him and tugged at his throat, peeling his skin with her purple nails.

The door of the shack creaked open. He shivered, sat up and after raising the red handled knife above his head, he stepped out of the tub and walked, still naked, to the other man that went into the shack, his name was Ewan. His baldhead glimmered against the light of the small bulb that dangled down the ceiling from a white wire.

“Sorry for interrupting,” he said, “I know you were waiting for me.”

He nodded. “Have you brought it to me?”

“Yes sir,” Ewan dipped his hand into his brown jacket and tugged out a brown strand of hair. He placed it against the man’s wet shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said, “Now, you mission is finished.”

Ewan’s eyes widened and he walked backward; his hands shivering. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s ok. Just calm down.”

“You won’t kill me…” Ewan yelled at his master, throwing a small stone from his pocket at his face. “I trusted you. I helped you…”

He smiled and lowered his face. “I know. That is why I will kill you. You helped me and your mission is done. You are an extra organ in the cycle of life. You should die to give space to someone else…”

“You’re mad…”

“That’s why I survive…”

Ewan’ back trembled against the door before he could turn to open it, the man with scar at his cheek, raised the knife and dipped it three times at his neck; three was his favorite number.
Chapter 3

The man with the red scar at his face was called Ivan. Twenty years ago, he used to live with his father in the same shack where he lives no

Chapter one.

The woman scurried down the street, pressing her bleeding left knee with her slender hand and stealing quick looks behind her. She knew he was following her. The lampposts at her side offered no guidance; they all stood silently, their heads fogged with dust as if they existed in a place forgotten by time.

She gasped louder as she pulled her wounded leg behind her, unable to bear it anymore. The pain surged through her lower body and blurred her eyes. She wished for a voice to offer her a temporary refuge in the ever-increasing coldness of the night, but the buildings that surrounded her were all stark and dim as the trees facing them.

After sometime, she glimpsed the light of a far store she quickened her pace towards it. Footsteps emerged behind her. Afraid to turn her eyes from the store, she struggled faster down the street, convincing herself that it was just the sound of her high heels over the asphalt; it was just an illusion.

After falling to her knees in front of the store, she called out. “Help…someone…help me…”

A tall man appeared out of the store. He had a cigarette at his mouth. His face was brown and wrinkled; his eyes blue, narrow, and his chest bare and lined from the inside with the evident bones of his rib cage.

“He’s following me…I can’t walk…”

After placing her arm around his neck, he lifted her from under her armpit and dragged her into the store.

“What’s wrong…?” The man asked after placing her on a stool. “Who’s following you?”

“I can’t tell you…” She screamed. “Do something…please…the pain ….my feet is hurting me….help.”

“I can’t help you unless you tell me who’s following you.”

“I won’t tell you…” she screamed once again and kicked the man in his knee. The man shrieked and slapped her. Unable to balance herself over the stool, she fell to her face, crying at the ceiling. “Someone help me….” She scampered towards the door of the store. Every minute that passed, she knew, he was getting nearer to her. Soon enough, she would die.
Chapter 2

The man with the blue scar against his cheek stood at the door of the shack. It was still dark. The trees surrounding the shack shivered in the cold night air, filling the forest with furtive howling sounds. The lady escaped him this time. He would never allow it to happen the next time, but before this time came he first had to rest.

Inside the shack, he took off his black leather jacket and placed it at the hook behind the kitchen door. After standing naked in the dark, he walked to the small window above the red couch, and narrowed his eyes. He was waiting for someone important, someone that brought him news that he had been waiting for since last month.

He walked to a small table standing in the middle of the shack. He opened a small jar and took out a young girl’s ear. Slowly, he nibbled at the edges. He had been eating human flesh since he was twelve. He usually savored the soft parts like the ears and the nose.

Some minutes later, he sat down inside the small tub standing beside the door. The water was so cold like his skin and as his wounds unleashed their blood into the water, he sighed and started humming a repetitive lullaby that his mother used to sing to him when he was young.

He fell into a deep sleep in which he dreamt of the old lady he was trying to kill. She appeared out of a foggy street, ran at him and tugged at his throat, peeling his skin with her purple nails.

The door of the shack creaked open. He shivered, sat up and after raising the red handled knife above his head, he stepped out of the tub and walked, still naked, to the other man that went into the shack, his name was Ewan. His baldhead glimmered against the light of the small bulb that dangled down the ceiling from a white wire.

“Sorry for interrupting,” he said, “I know you were waiting for me.”

He nodded. “Have you brought it to me?”

“Yes sir,” Ewan dipped his hand into his brown jacket and tugged out a brown strand of hair. He placed it against the man’s wet shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said, “Now, you mission is finished.”

Ewan’s eyes widened and he walked backward; his hands shivering. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s ok. Just calm down.”

“You won’t kill me…” Ewan yelled at his master, throwing a small stone from his pocket at his face. “I trusted you. I helped you…”

He smiled and lowered his face. “I know. That is why I will kill you. You helped me and your mission is done. You are an extra organ in the cycle of life. You should die to give space to someone else…”

“You’re mad…”

“That’s why I survive…”

Ewan’ back trembled against the door before he could turn to open it, the man with scar at his cheek, raised the knife and dipped it three times at his neck; three was his favorite number.
Chapter 3

The man with the red scar at his face was called Ivan. Twenty years ago, he used to live with his father in the same shack where he lives no

Chapter one.

The woman scurried down the street, pressing her bleeding left knee with her slender hand and stealing quick looks behind her. She knew he was following her. The lampposts at her side offered no guidance; they all stood silently, their heads fogged with dust as if they existed in a place forgotten by time.

She gasped louder as she pulled her wounded leg behind her, unable to bear it anymore. The pain surged through her lower body and blurred her eyes. She wished for a voice to offer her a temporary refuge in the ever-increasing coldness of the night, but the buildings that surrounded her were all stark and dim as the trees facing them.

After sometime, she glimpsed the light of a far store she quickened her pace towards it. Footsteps emerged behind her. Afraid to turn her eyes from the store, she struggled faster down the street, convincing herself that it was just the sound of her high heels over the asphalt; it was just an illusion.

After falling to her knees in front of the store, she called out. “Help…someone…help me…”

A tall man appeared out of the store. He had a cigarette at his mouth. His face was brown and wrinkled; his eyes blue, narrow, and his chest bare and lined from the inside with the evident bones of his rib cage.

“He’s following me…I can’t walk…”

After placing her arm around his neck, he lifted her from under her armpit and dragged her into the store.

“What’s wrong…?” The man asked after placing her on a stool. “Who’s following you?”

“I can’t tell you…” She screamed. “Do something…please…the pain ….my feet is hurting me….help.”

“I can’t help you unless you tell me who’s following you.”

“I won’t tell you…” she screamed once again and kicked the man in his knee. The man shrieked and slapped her. Unable to balance herself over the stool, she fell to her face, crying at the ceiling. “Someone help me….” She scampered towards the door of the store. Every minute that passed, she knew, he was getting nearer to her. Soon enough, she would die.
Chapter 2

The man with the blue scar against his cheek stood at the door of the shack. It was still dark. The trees surrounding the shack shivered in the cold night air, filling the forest with furtive howling sounds. The lady escaped him this time. He would never allow it to happen the next time, but before this time came he first had to rest.

Inside the shack, he took off his black leather jacket and placed it at the hook behind the kitchen door. After standing naked in the dark, he walked to the small window above the red couch, and narrowed his eyes. He was waiting for someone important, someone that brought him news that he had been waiting for since last month.

He walked to a small table standing in the middle of the shack. He opened a small jar and took out a young girl’s ear. Slowly, he nibbled at the edges. He had been eating human flesh since he was twelve. He usually savored the soft parts like the ears and the nose.

Some minutes later, he sat down inside the small tub standing beside the door. The water was so cold like his skin and as his wounds unleashed their blood into the water, he sighed and started humming a repetitive lullaby that his mother used to sing to him when he was young.

He fell into a deep sleep in which he dreamt of the old lady he was trying to kill. She appeared out of a foggy street, ran at him and tugged at his throat, peeling his skin with her purple nails.

The door of the shack creaked open. He shivered, sat up and after raising the red handled knife above his head, he stepped out of the tub and walked, still naked, to the other man that went into the shack, his name was Ewan. His baldhead glimmered against the light of the small bulb that dangled down the ceiling from a white wire.

“Sorry for interrupting,” he said, “I know you were waiting for me.”

He nodded. “Have you brought it to me?”

“Yes sir,” Ewan dipped his hand into his brown jacket and tugged out a brown strand of hair. He placed it against the man’s wet shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said, “Now, you mission is finished.”

Ewan’s eyes widened and he walked backward; his hands shivering. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s ok. Just calm down.”

“You won’t kill me…” Ewan yelled at his master, throwing a small stone from his pocket at his face. “I trusted you. I helped you…”

He smiled and lowered his face. “I know. That is why I will kill you. You helped me and your mission is done. You are an extra organ in the cycle of life. You should die to give space to someone else…”

“You’re mad…”

“That’s why I survive…”

Ewan’ back trembled against the door before he could turn to open it, the man with scar at his cheek, raised the knife and dipped it three times at his neck; three was his favorite number.
Chapter 3

The man with the red scar at his face was called Ivan. Twenty years ago, he used to live with his father in the same shack where he lives no

Chapter one.

The woman scurried down the street, pressing her bleeding left knee with her slender hand and stealing quick looks behind her. She knew he was following her. The lampposts at her side offered no guidance; they all stood silently, their heads fogged with dust as if they existed in a place forgotten by time.

She gasped louder as she pulled her wounded leg behind her, unable to bear it anymore. The pain surged through her lower body and blurred her eyes. She wished for a voice to offer her a temporary refuge in the ever-increasing coldness of the night, but the buildings that surrounded her were all stark and dim as the trees facing them.

After sometime, she glimpsed the light of a far store she quickened her pace towards it. Footsteps emerged behind her. Afraid to turn her eyes from the store, she struggled faster down the street, convincing herself that it was just the sound of her high heels over the asphalt; it was just an illusion.

After falling to her knees in front of the store, she called out. “Help…someone…help me…”

A tall man appeared out of the store. He had a cigarette at his mouth. His face was brown and wrinkled; his eyes blue, narrow, and his chest bare and lined from the inside with the evident bones of his rib cage.

“He’s following me…I can’t walk…”

After placing her arm around his neck, he lifted her from under her armpit and dragged her into the store.

“What’s wrong…?” The man asked after placing her on a stool. “Who’s following you?”

“I can’t tell you…” She screamed. “Do something…please…the pain ….my feet is hurting me….help.”

“I can’t help you unless you tell me who’s following you.”

“I won’t tell you…” she screamed once again and kicked the man in his knee. The man shrieked and slapped her. Unable to balance herself over the stool, she fell to her face, crying at the ceiling. “Someone help me….” She scampered towards the door of the store. Every minute that passed, she knew, he was getting nearer to her. Soon enough, she would die.
Chapter 2

The man with the blue scar against his cheek stood at the door of the shack. It was still dark. The trees surrounding the shack shivered in the cold night air, filling the forest with furtive howling sounds. The lady escaped him this time. He would never allow it to happen the next time, but before this time came he first had to rest.

Inside the shack, he took off his black leather jacket and placed it at the hook behind the kitchen door. After standing naked in the dark, he walked to the small window above the red couch, and narrowed his eyes. He was waiting for someone important, someone that brought him news that he had been waiting for since last month.

He walked to a small table standing in the middle of the shack. He opened a small jar and took out a young girl’s ear. Slowly, he nibbled at the edges. He had been eating human flesh since he was twelve. He usually savored the soft parts like the ears and the nose.

Some minutes later, he sat down inside the small tub standing beside the door. The water was so cold like his skin and as his wounds unleashed their blood into the water, he sighed and started humming a repetitive lullaby that his mother used to sing to him when he was young.

He fell into a deep sleep in which he dreamt of the old lady he was trying to kill. She appeared out of a foggy street, ran at him and tugged at his throat, peeling his skin with her purple nails.

The door of the shack creaked open. He shivered, sat up and after raising the red handled knife above his head, he stepped out of the tub and walked, still naked, to the other man that went into the shack, his name was Ewan. His baldhead glimmered against the light of the small bulb that dangled down the ceiling from a white wire.

“Sorry for interrupting,” he said, “I know you were waiting for me.”

He nodded. “Have you brought it to me?”

“Yes sir,” Ewan dipped his hand into his brown jacket and tugged out a brown strand of hair. He placed it against the man’s wet shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said, “Now, you mission is finished.”

Ewan’s eyes widened and he walked backward; his hands shivering. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s ok. Just calm down.”

“You won’t kill me…” Ewan yelled at his master, throwing a small stone from his pocket at his face. “I trusted you. I helped you…”

He smiled and lowered his face. “I know. That is why I will kill you. You helped me and your mission is done. You are an extra organ in the cycle of life. You should die to give space to someone else…”

“You’re mad…”

“That’s why I survive…”

Ewan’ back trembled against the door before he could turn to open it, the man with scar at his cheek, raised the knife and dipped it three times at his neck; three was his favorite number.
Chapter 3

The man with the red scar at his face was called Ivan. Twenty years ago, he used to live with his father in the same shack where he lives no

Chapter one.

The woman scurried down the street, pressing her bleeding left knee with her slender hand and stealing quick looks behind her. She knew he was following her. The lampposts at her side offered no guidance; they all stood silently, their heads fogged with dust as if they existed in a place forgotten by time.

She gasped louder as she pulled her wounded leg behind her, unable to bear it anymore. The pain surged through her lower body and blurred her eyes. She wished for a voice to offer her a temporary refuge in the ever-increasing coldness of the night, but the buildings that surrounded her were all stark and dim as the trees facing them.

After sometime, she glimpsed the light of a far store she quickened her pace towards it. Footsteps emerged behind her. Afraid to turn her eyes from the store, she struggled faster down the street, convincing herself that it was just the sound of her high heels over the asphalt; it was just an illusion.

After falling to her knees in front of the store, she called out. “Help…someone…help me…”

A tall man appeared out of the store. He had a cigarette at his mouth. His face was brown and wrinkled; his eyes blue, narrow, and his chest bare and lined from the inside with the evident bones of his rib cage.

“He’s following me…I can’t walk…”

After placing her arm around his neck, he lifted her from under her armpit and dragged her into the store.

“What’s wrong…?” The man asked after placing her on a stool. “Who’s following you?”

“I can’t tell you…” She screamed. “Do something…please…the pain ….my feet is hurting me….help.”

“I can’t help you unless you tell me who’s following you.”

“I won’t tell you…” she screamed once again and kicked the man in his knee. The man shrieked and slapped her. Unable to balance herself over the stool, she fell to her face, crying at the ceiling. “Someone help me….” She scampered towards the door of the store. Every minute that passed, she knew, he was getting nearer to her. Soon enough, she would die.

Chapter 2

The man with the blue scar against his cheek stood at the door of the shack. It was still dark. The trees surrounding the shack shivered in the cold night air, filling the forest with furtive howling sounds. The lady escaped him this time. He would never allow it to happen the next time, but before this time came he first had to rest.

Inside the shack, he took off his black leather jacket and placed it at the hook behind the kitchen door. After standing naked in the dark, he walked to the small window above the red couch, and narrowed his eyes. He was waiting for someone important, someone that brought him news that he had been waiting for since last month.

He walked to a small table standing in the middle of the shack. He opened a small jar and took out a young girl’s ear. Slowly, he nibbled at the edges. He had been eating human flesh since he was twelve. He usually savored the soft parts like the ears and the nose.

Some minutes later, he sat down inside the small tub standing beside the door. The water was so cold like his skin and as his wounds unleashed their blood into the water, he sighed and started humming a repetitive lullaby that his mother used to sing to him when he was young.

He fell into a deep sleep in which he dreamt of the old lady he was trying to kill. She appeared out of a foggy street, ran at him and tugged at his throat, peeling his skin with her purple nails.

The door of the shack creaked open. He shivered, sat up and after raising the red handled knife above his head, he stepped out of the tub and walked, still naked, to the other man that went into the shack, his name was Ewan. His baldhead glimmered against the light of the small bulb that dangled down the ceiling from a white wire.

“Sorry for interrupting,” he said, “I know you were waiting for me.”

He nodded. “Have you brought it to me?”

“Yes sir,” Ewan dipped his hand into his brown jacket and tugged out a brown strand of hair. He placed it against the man’s wet shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said, “Now, you mission is finished.”

Ewan’s eyes widened and he walked backward; his hands shivering. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s ok. Just calm down.”

“You won’t kill me…” Ewan yelled at his master, throwing a small stone from his pocket at his face. “I trusted you. I helped you…”

He smiled and lowered his face. “I know. That is why I will kill you. You helped me and your mission is done. You are an extra organ in the cycle of life. You should die to give space to someone else…”

“You’re mad…”

“That’s why I survive…”

Ewan’ back trembled against the door before he could turn to open it, the man with scar at his cheek, raised the knife and dipped it three times at his neck; three was his favorite number.

Chapter one.

The woman scurried down the street, pressing her bleeding left knee with her slender hand and stealing quick looks behind her. She knew he was following her. The lampposts at her side offered no guidance; they all stood silently, their heads fogged with dust as if they existed in a place forgotten by time.

She gasped louder as she pulled her wounded leg behind her, unable to bear it anymore. The pain surged through her lower body and blurred her eyes. She wished for a voice to offer her a temporary refuge in the ever-increasing coldness of the night, but the buildings that surrounded her were all stark and dim as the trees facing them.

After sometime, she glimpsed the light of a far store she quickened her pace towards it. Footsteps emerged behind her. Afraid to turn her eyes from the store, she struggled faster down the street, convincing herself that it was just the sound of her high heels over the asphalt; it was just an illusion.

After falling to her knees in front of the store, she called out. “Help…someone…help me…”

A tall man appeared out of the store. He had a cigarette at his mouth. His face was brown and wrinkled; his eyes blue, narrow, and his chest bare and lined from the inside with the evident bones of his rib cage.

“He’s following me…I can’t walk…”

After placing her arm around his neck, he lifted her from under her armpit and dragged her into the store.

“What’s wrong…?” The man asked after placing her on a stool. “Who’s following you?”

“I can’t tell you…” She screamed. “Do something…please…the pain ….my feet is hurting me….help.”

“I can’t help you unless you tell me who’s following you.”

“I won’t tell you…” she screamed once again and kicked the man in his knee. The man shrieked and slapped her. Unable to balance herself over the stool, she fell to her face, crying at the ceiling. “Someone help me….” She scampered towards the door of the store. Every minute that passed, she knew, he was getting nearer to her. Soon enough, she would die.

Chapter 2

The man with the blue scar against his cheek stood at the door of the shack. It was still dark. The trees surrounding the shack shivered in the cold night air, filling the forest with furtive howling sounds. The lady escaped him this time. He would never allow it to happen the next time, but before this time came he first had to rest.

Inside the shack, he took off his black leather jacket and placed it at the hook behind the kitchen door. After standing naked in the dark, he walked to the small window above the red couch, and narrowed his eyes. He was waiting for someone important, someone that brought him news that he had been waiting for since last month.

He walked to a small table standing in the middle of the shack. He opened a small jar and took out a young girl’s ear. Slowly, he nibbled at the edges. He had been eating human flesh since he was twelve. He usually savored the soft parts like the ears and the nose.

Some minutes later, he sat down inside the small tub standing beside the door. The water was so cold like his skin and as his wounds unleashed their blood into the water, he sighed and started humming a repetitive lullaby that his mother used to sing to him when he was young.

He fell into a deep sleep in which he dreamt of the old lady he was trying to kill. She appeared out of a foggy street, ran at him and tugged at his throat, peeling his skin with her purple nails.

The door of the shack creaked open. He shivered, sat up and after raising the red handled knife above his head, he stepped out of the tub and walked, still naked, to the other man that went into the shack, his name was Ewan. His baldhead glimmered against the light of the small bulb that dangled down the ceiling from a white wire.

“Sorry for interrupting,” he said, “I know you were waiting for me.”

He nodded. “Have you brought it to me?”

“Yes sir,” Ewan dipped his hand into his brown jacket and tugged out a brown strand of hair. He placed it against the man’s wet shoulder.

“Thank you,” he said, “Now, you mission is finished.”

Ewan’s eyes widened and he walked backward; his hands shivering. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s ok. Just calm down.”

“You won’t kill me…” Ewan yelled at his master, throwing a small stone from his pocket at his face. “I trusted you. I helped you…”

He smiled and lowered his face. “I know. That is why I will kill you. You helped me and your mission is done. You are an extra organ in the cycle of life. You should die to give space to someone else…”

“You’re mad…”

“That’s why I survive…”

Ewan’ back trembled against the door before he could turn to open it, the man with scar at his cheek, raised the knife and dipped it three times at his neck; three was his favorite number.