The Start of a Dinosaur Story

I looked up, watching the moon. Tiger poked my side and chewed noisily on a long, twisting and familiar dinosaur tail. I glared at him, wondering whose that was. Tiger was such a dick. “What? Do you want some?” Tiger flashed his sharp teeth at me.

“No, I don’t enjoy eating . . . whoever that is.” I looked down at it, getting hungry. Goddammit.

“You know Miz Mudsplatter?” Tiger took another bite. “She’s tail-less now.”

“Tiger, what the fuck?” I rolled my eyes, mimicking our older sister whenever she came back to see us. That wasn't too often, not with her living with some non-rejected clan in what she called “society”.

“What?” Tiger chewed on the tail in his mouth, opening wide so you could see inside of it.

“Have you seen Mom?” I tore my gaze away from the tail, looking at our deserted dump of a dwelling. It wasn't much, it really wasn't even enough to call home–– it was just a shithole next to a lava pit. Sometimes, I wonder if our family was outcasted to the slums in hopes that we would disintegrate forever in the lava pit. I wouldn't blame the others; sometimes I wanted Dad in the pit. I don’t think it would matter much if Mom was in it too because sometimes, it felt like she already was.

“What do you think?” Tiger said, having swallowed. “If you haven’t seen her and I haven’t seen her––”

“Then no one’s seen her,” I finished with him. It was true, no one who mattered had seen her if we hadn't.  No one who didn't matter was looking for her anyway. I sighed and sat back down in the nest; it was falling apart. Tiger was next to me, still chewing on a tail and now staring at the moon. I looked over at the tail again, my stomach growling. Tiger ripped off a piece for me and shoved it in my mouth. I started chewing, swallowing down any feelings with it.

“You’re welcome,” he said between chews. “You haven’t eaten anything all day, just because we don’t have anyone to get us food, doesn't mean we can’t get it ourselves.” Tiger meant that we could still steal food no matter what, even if we had to chop off someone’s tail for it. “Have you seen Dad?”

“If I haven’t––”I began when angry growls erupted around us. The sound of a coconut that stunk of foul liquid smashing to the ground interrupted us. Tiger and I crouched to the ground and our chewing stopped. I abruptly swallowed and smacked Tiger when he didn't.  Hadn't we been through this enough? He gave me a pleading look while showing me that he had too much to swallow and he wasn't about to spit it out. I shook my head and gave him a demanding look. He scowled and abruptly shut his jaw, beginning to chew again when he was lifted out of the nest before I could do anything to help him.

“Who are you?” I heard Dad sneer at him and watched Tigers terrified look reflected in Dad’s eyes, twice the size of Tigers head. The tail dangled in his hand, swinging. “What do you think you're doing here? You little shit!” He threw Tiger down beside me in the nest and turned away, drinking from another coconut.  We both turned and stared, hoping he would leave for the night. “What are you looking at?” he sneered and threw the coconut at us. “Get out of here!” he yelled.

Tiger and I looked at each other and scampered out of the nest toward the jungle as the next coconut was thrown at us.

“Skittle? You know that lava pit?” Tiger said to me after vomiting and finding a leaf big enough to wear as a blanket around his shoulders. “Sometimes I wish that dad would burn in it.”

“You don’t wish that,” I said, even though I knew he did.

He just nodded. “I do.” He lay down on the ground next to me, looking up at the unfamiliar jungle around us. “Do you think Mom will ever come back?”

“She’s only been gone . . .” I had to think about it. How long had she been gone?

“Do you think we’ll ever go back?” Tiger turned over on his side so that I couldn't see his face.

“No, I don’t think we want to.” I stared at the back of his head until he rolled over again, nodding in agreement. A flutter went through the tree tops. We sat up, looking around for danger. A second later, a small light shot out through the leaves and down onto Tigers nose. “What is it?” he asked, in awe.

“A firefly. Mom said they bring good luck.”

Confessions of an Incubus Hunter

I hate killing. I know that might sound obvious and over said, but it’s really true for someone who spends a good 8 hours a day killing, learning how to kill, and tracking kills. Most kids would say they hate school. Most kids would say that hating school might sound over said and obvious because they go there eight hours a day; don’t get me wrong, I hate school too, but I hate killing more.

It’s not like I've been killing humans, I mean, I've thought about it (not that I would ever really, in even the most aggravating circumstance, actually move a muscle to do it), but I kill Incubi and Succubi. I hate killing Incubi and Succubi  it’s not like they don’t have feelings too. I mean, usually they’re pretty evil, but they still have feelings. For those of you who don’t know, an incubus or a succubus is a male or female demon who “lies upon people to have sexual relations with them while they sleep”. There’s some freaky, terrifying, demonic fun.

While I do happen to go around killing Incubi, I kind of don’t know anything about them. Except that a certain one who I didn't kill, is really good in bed.

They say if you sleep with an Incubus repeatedly, it will lead to your death. Sometimes I think I wouldn't mind that because I kind of doubt I was still be dealing with all this killing if I was dead. But I’m not dead. No, I am currently under the sheets in my bed with a sleeping Incubus named Dante, whose head is in my lap.

A couple nights ago we were sitting, just like this, except we were both awake. He looked up at me and played with my fingers. “So.  . . can you tell me again, um, do you, like, kill Succubi too? Or is just dudes?” he asked.

“Both.” I hoped we could get off this subject soon and he would decide that running out to get five bags of Doritos again at 1:57 AM to see who could eat more, was a good idea. Even that, which did not end too well, would be better than talking about how I kill his species.

“Oh, okay, so like, if you wanted to you could track a Succubus and kill her for me?” he looked up at me with his beautiful, sexy, Incubus eyes. “Please?” He tried to pull puppy dog eyes.

I laughed. He scowled and I suppose I should’ve felt bad, it’s just that feeling bad doesn't come naturally. I ran my hand through his hair and kissed him.

“What’s so funny? Is it too much to ask you to kill my ex? Am I not allowed to do that?” he lifted his head. “Are you not allowed to kill someone another Incubus told you to kill? ‘Cause if you aren't  then I take it back.”

“Dante, we've been dating for seven, six, no seven, months. I think we've already broken enough rules that we can find ways around breaking more,” I said as he sat up and rested his head on my shoulder.

I know what you’re thinking, and I would like to tell you to please shut up. You would fall for an Incubus too if he was crying when you met him and was wearing a shirt to save the whales. Even if you were totally sure he didn't actually care about whales (he does, by the way) and you felt your heart tug at the thought of having to kill him. And, let’s face, if the night you met him all of that happened and you had finally just gotten so sick of killing, I promise you would've fallen for him too.

“Right, but can you? I mean, if you want.” Dante looked to me, making sure I wasn't going to suddenly decide our relationship and his life was over for bringing up killing. He knew I hated it and he wasn't such a big fan either.

“You’re saying that if I want to, I can kill your ex-girlfriend because–”

A crash through my window and glass breaking to the floor interrupted me. We leaped out of bed, pulled on some clothes (I was pretty sure I grabbed his pants instead of mine) and rushed to my weapons chest.

“Is that your ex?” I asked Dante, handing him a bow and a pack of arrows.

“Maybe it is.” He sounded pretty guilty.

“Is that why you want me to kill her?” I surveyed the window, stepping back as something was thrown inside and watched as Dante shot an arrow out. He was just in his sexy black underwear.

“Yes, most definitely.” Dante nodded, looking over the damage. He was still tense, even though we both could sense she was gone.

I sighed and looked at the object thrown in, letting out my breath in relief that it wasn't a bomb of any sort. Instead it was nipple clamp holding a note. What an upgrade; it was definitely from a Succubus by the looks of it. And not of the high class variety, judging from the stench of her perfume and her window breakage. I opened the clamp and released the paper, looking at the note:

Dearest Hunter:

Prepare to die, bitch.

xxxx

I held up the note for Dante to read. He let out a sigh and looked down at the ground, probably wishing for a vortex to swallow him whole. He looked back at me, cracking a smile.

“You’re wearing my pants.”