Jack Part 1

“Nice fucking job Loyd,” Jack grumbled. Another day, another brutal offering of friendship. He crouched down, the desert sun that had crested over the mountaintops adding a new element to the carnage; color.

It was a bird of some sort, at least originally. Probably a blackbird. Tenderly, he went to pick up one of the feathers strewn across his porch when it started to move, trembling like a pair of joke teeth, the clicking of the tip playing a tune on the wood. Jack didn't like the music.

He grimaced. This wasn't like Loyd. brought him gifts; mostly mice but also the occasional bird. But there was something that separated this from the others; the brutality.

“Jack!”

He turned his head sharply, looking for the source of the sound. But the world was empty, the landscape supporting little outside the heat.

“Jaaack,” the voice cooed. “Jackie boy.”

Jack began to storm around his home, looking for a explanation for the voice.

“I'm not done with you yet Jack...Not by a long shot.”

“What the hell do you want,” Jack screamed, clasping his hands against his head until he felt he would pass out from the pressure.

“Jaaack...Jackie boy...” As soon as it had started it stopped, leaving a silence unknown to even the empty desert. Slowly he removed his hands his head and grabbed a bag from the counter. Slowly, his nerves began to calm.

“Damn cat,” he cursed.

Heading out the screen door he felt his stomach lurch, then headed inside to retrieve a mop.