Deaddy Scare by Dean Kuch
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Warning: The author has noted that this contains strong violence. Warning: The author has noted that this contains strong language.
“Daddy! Did joo get all da bad guys today?” Selena Santiago raced into her father's hug, throwing her pajama-clad arms around his broad shoulders. Lorenzo Santiago had been walking the beat of the East Los Angeles neighborhood of Boyle Heights for the past fifteen years. It was always a welcome relief to return home safely. “Yeah, baby, I got 'em—every one. They see your poppa comin', and they just throw their arms up and surrender.” Selena's giggling echoed throughout the hallway, as her father tickled her tender, exposed belly. “Daddy?” “What, sweetie?” “Tell me again wot Mommy wooked wike. Her wook wike me?” “Yes, baby. Mommy was... beautiful — just like you. Now, let's turn off the light. It's time for you to go tuh... The raucous sounds of breaking glass and splitting wood rang out from the floor below. “Under the bed, Selena...now! Don't move until I tell you to.” "Bu...but, daddy, Teddy is downstairs, at the table in da kich'en. Him was hun'ry, an missus Baiwey gived him cereal. Him's all awone...” Lorenzo lowered his voice to a whisper, then addressed his daughter once more. “I'm sure Teddy will be just fine, baby. Now, daddy has got to get to the phone, so you just stay put...” He watched as the most precious thing he had left in his life slid further beneath the bed, into the shadows — and out of sight.
“Here... over here, you dumb ass!” Curtis “the cutter” Parton motioned his partner towards the sixty-inch, 3-D flat screen mounted on the wall. “ Yeah, we gonna' take dat shit... bet!” His much younger accomplice, Demetrius Johnson, made a bee-line for the spot. “Hold up. You hear dat? What the fuh...?” In the hallway stood a child's teddy bear. It shambled towards them. In one ratted paw, a butcher's knife caught and reflected glints of light. It was on them before they could utter a sound, slashing, ripping; the blade coming down swiftly — again, and again — in sweeping arcs. They realized too late that it wasn't the teddy bear they'd needed to worry about, but the girl cloaked in the darkness, holding it upright. She was the last living thing they would ever see. Homicide crews worked on the scene well into the next morning. The perps were identified, bagged and tagged. The lead detective informed Lorenzo they'd be in touch. Lorenzo consoled his daughter, assuring her that, this time; the killing wasn't her fault. At twenty-seven, Selena had the intellect and I.Q. of a three-year-old. She'd always been a special child, even before she'd murdered her abusive mother. “ I bad girl, daddy?” No, baby, you done good. It wasn't your fault. They held each other as the sun peeked warmly over the pink and blue horizon. Teddy stared stoically ahead, as droplets of drying blood darkened beneath rays of gleaming sunshine.
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Dean Kuch
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