Page 5 of Cole

His eyes bright with insanity, the boy turned his face up to Daniel. “Can we do the whore now?” His bloody hand squeezed the slippery handle of the hunting knife. “I like killing the girls… they scream more.”

Daniel smiled small. “Soon. I’m not finished with her yet.”

“When?” the boy pressed, brimming with bloodlust.

Irritation wormed through Daniel. “When Isay.” He nodded at the gutted man who clung to life, pain and horror twisting his face. “He’s still got some life in him. Amuse yourself. Andstaydown here. I don’t want the woman to know about you.”

The boy narrowed his eyes. “Why not? If we’re just gonna kill her anyway.”

“Untilthen, keep your ass out of sight. The longer she thinks she’s safe, the more satisfying it’ll be when she learns the truth.” Daniel glared at the kid. “Don’t fucking question me again, understand? Or I’ll tear the fucking hide off you.”

“I understand,” the boy muttered without fear. Punishment wasn’t much of a threat—he enjoyed the pain of the whippings. But hedidseek his father’s approval.

“Good.” Daniel cast a final glance at their victim, smirked, and returned upstairs.

“As a child, I never imagined that all the

Real Monsters in the world

Would be humans.”

— Mobeen Hakeem

CHAPTER 1: STRANGERS IN THE NIGHT

The moon cast a crisp glowover the frosty back streets as the boy slipped from the shelter, clutching the skateboard under his left arm. The worn deck’s rough texture reassured him as he moved forward, the thrill of his find drowning out the nagging reminder to stay close to his mother. Discovering the discarded skateboard while dumpster-diving earlier that morning was as exciting as a Christmas morning surprise.

His mom had told him he could go skateboarding tomorrow morning, but the excitement was too irresistible. He had tried to go to sleep, but to no avail. His mind refused to shut off, and all he could think about was getting on his board.

The boy dropped the board onto the sidewalk with a clatter and launched himself forward, the skateboard wheels creaking as they glided over the uneven pavement. The cold air nipped at his bare arms and face, though he hardly felt it. His mind focused on the rhythm of skating, savoring the fleeting sense of freedom.

As he glided into a side alley, his thoughts wandered to better days—before his father had left him and his mom destitute—days when he and his friends spent hours at the skate park without a care in the world, and when home was a place of warmth and safety. Those days felt like a distant dream now… like someone else’s life.

He suppressed the painful nostalgia, blinking back tears before they blurred his vision. Crying about a life long gone didn’t help with the current reality. His mom needed him to be strong, and sulking only made things harder for her. He was fifteen; it was time to grow up.

I’ll grow up tomorrow,he thought as he sailed down the alley, dodging debris from the dumpster.I just want to be a kid tonight.

The alley spilled into an empty street, with only the distant hum of traffic suggesting life. The boy felt a surge of exhilaration as he sped toward the street, his skateboard responding to his commands like an extension of his own body. For a fleeting moment, he closed his eyes as the chilly air rushed against his face and tousled his hair. He felt as if he were flying—away from the streets, away from the dirty dumpsters and half-rotted food, away from the smelly, musty shelters… away from this life that robbed him of his carefree teenage years and insisted he become a man before his time.

The boy’s eyes opened a split second before something struck him in the chest. The skateboard shot out from under him and clattered down the alley and into the deserted street. He landed hard on his back, his head cracking against the concrete as the wind rushed from his lungs. He couldn’t move for a moment, his mind and body stunned by the fall. Lying on his back in a puddle of freezing slush, he stared up at the night sky, barely visible between the two buildings on either side of him.

“Shit, sorry about that.” A man appeared above him and thrust out a gloved hand. “Didn’t see you there.”

The boy hesitantly accepted his hand as he was hauled to his feet.

“You all right?” the stranger asked, maintaining his grip on the boy's hand. He wore a black beanie cap covering his head and ears, a thick overcoat, and work boots. It was difficult to see his face in the darkness of the alley.

The boy felt a little unsteady on his feet but nodded. “Yeah,” he mumbled, feeling the chill of his wet shirt as it clung to his back. “I’m okay.” He pulled his hand free.

“You cracked your head pretty hard.”

“I’m okay,” the boy repeated and ran his fingers through his dirty hair.

“What’re you doing out here in the middle of the night?” the man asked. “It can be dangerous on the streets at night.”

The boy knew that better than anyone. “I-I know,” he whispered, his head throbbing. “I was just…” He gestured absently toward the skateboard that had rolled to a stop in the middle of the street. “I wasn’t supposed to leave the shelter.”

The man chuckled. “What teenage boy isn’t a little adventurous and rebellious?” He rubbed his chin. “You’re from the shelter? Are you alone? With family?”

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