When Johnny comes marching home.

It was a cold October night. The fallen leaves formed a colored carpet. Johnny sighed when he finally came home from a hard day at work. Yet there were still some chores to do. Nobody waited for him at home. He was 56 years old now, but being alone never bothered him. People only hampered him while he was thinking. His thoughts created another universe far from his work and the world he lived in. The microwave heated a frozen dinner within a few minutes. He grabbed his hot food before he went upstairs into his bedroom.

With a gentle flick, Johnny turned the light on. The bulb was bright enough to give the entire room a soft glow. He shoved the dinner to the edge of his desk, only to forget it for a few hours. The plastic container beside his desk was filled with cleaning items. The torture tools were filthy with the blood from the mob’s victims. It took him hours to clean on autopilot as his mind took him to the alternative plains. A sudden loud metal click of a lock opening broke his total concentration. The sound came from under his bed.

Johnny knew immediately what to do. His strong hands grabbed the edge of the bed to push it from the trap door. His blood curdled at the sight of the black shadow morphing into a solid, terrifying creature. The sharp claws swung towards his chest, ripping through his white shirt. He could roll back in time to avoid any flesh getting shredded. The wave-bladed dagger flickered briefly when the point penetrated the fiend right into his chest. With a whimper, the demon disappeared with a sulfurous puff. Johnny puffed, sheathed his weapon back into its scabbard, and moved toward the trap door. The strong lock would have to be replaced by one of his backups.

The torturer opened the secret entrance, walked downstairs, and switched another light on. The sharp metal ringing sounds delighted his heart. The young lady was still there with her wrists attached to the walls by three-foot chains. They were just long enough for her to sit down or stand. Her bare feet kicked nothing but air. Johnny kept enough distance, waited until she got tired, and walked closer. His hand gripped her throat, the fingers squeezing firmly into her skin as he whispered: ‘’Who are you? I captured you before going to work.” The girl gagged a little, unable to answer with the gag across her mouth.

Then a tiny tattoo, barely visible above the woman’s left breast, caught his attention. It was the sign of the horned devil, the fallen angel himself. ‘’Now, this just got more interesting. I must know who you are and where you come from, darling.’’: he grinned, taking her purse to skim through the items. Her phone was already disposed of. Finally, Johnny found her driver’s license with her name written on it. ‘’Well, Jenny, too bad I need your body untouched. If that is lucky for you has yet to be seen. But this will suffice.”: he snickered. The girl sobbed through her gag when the room turned dark again. The loud metal click locked the only exit. Hunger and thirst kept gnawing at her body.

The morning after, Johnny went to see his old friend Little Phil. Nobody in the gang addressed each other by their real name. Phil came from Philadelphia, and he was from little. Some people thought the guy was immortal. Healthier people had earlier graves than this 350-pound guy. ‘’Hey, Monster, how are you doing? Do you want some breakfast?. Ma made bacon and fresh pancakes.’’ He said while stuffing pure fat down his big hole. ‘’Thank you, but I am not hungry. Is your mother still home? I need a session, Lil Phil.’’: he said, looking up at the ceiling. The big guy nodded: ‘’She is; I will send her a message. Go to the waiting room. And this one is on the house, buddy.” He looked suspicious at his friend for a second and asked: ‘’Why is that, Phil? I have never known you to give away anything for free. And we have been friends for how long? Twenty-five years?’ Phil chuckled: ‘’You did a great job on that snitch. The filthy rat squealed for two more hours in agony before dying. The bosses were impressed. You earned this one, buddy.’’

The torturer nodded to his friend, wished him bon appétite, and headed off. To his surprise, the old lady was ready for his visit. She was sitting behind a small round table; the crystal ball positioned dead center, and the smell of incense attacked the senses. ‘’I have been expecting you, Monster. What do you seek?’:’ she cackled. Johnny took out the girl’s driver’s license before taking a seat. ‘’What can you tell me about this girl? She wears the symbol of Satan on her chest. Who and, more important, what is she?” he asked as he slid the document to the seer. She pushed it slowly under the crystal ball before whispering inaudibly to the crystal ball. He could only hear her last words:” Be careful. You don’t know what is coming. Heed my call.’’ Johnny waited patiently, knowing better than to interrupt her. He did once during a session, and his ass was still hurting from the beating she gave him. Finally, she told him the outcome: ‘’Go back home, Monster, back to Salem. Once you are there, look for a tarot reader. You will know which one once the veil is ripped.” The torturer received the driver’s license back, thanked the old lady, and left.

The ride to Salem was intense. The closer Johnny got, the more he remembered what had happened to him. Once he drove into town, he knew exactly where and what to do. There was a small esoteric magic shop outside the town where an old lady sold crystals, tarot cards, books, and everything related to her witchcraft. Johnny waited until the sun had set, the stores were closing, and the streets were growing emptier and emptier. Then he made his move. Skulking around the back of the store, he moved up the emergency stairs and climbed through an open window. Candles lighted the room. “Why do clairvoyants like incense so much?”: he asked himself. Then a shadow appeared beside his. Johnny turned around when he saw. Somebody stood right behind him. The resemblance was uncanny.

The old lady was a future image of the captive in his jail. Her curly hair was grey, the skin wrinkly, yet her features betrayed they were related. One hand held a candle, the other a smartphone. Her dress seemed to be stolen from the twenties of the previous century. ‘’I was expecting you. Yet I don’t know why you are here.’’: she said, frightened. Johnny took out the driver’s license, flicked it to the woman, and grinned: ‘’I think I have something or someone that belongs to you, old hag. You must have sensed something wrong with her. You sent that thing out to check up on her, didn’t you?’’ Her right hand let go of the phone when she picked the small document up. Falling to her knees, she recognized her granddaughter. ‘’What did you do to her, you monster? Where is she? How did you survive him?’’: the witch sobbed. Johnny felt delirious due to the displayed pain and suffering. ‘’I will tell you. But first, I will tell you a little story. You don’t remember, do you? How could you?’’: he snarled.

The surprised look on her face gave him the answer. ‘’No, I didn’t think so. A woman with a small boy coming to you for advice. Your tarot cards telling her that she would be happy, successful, and wealthy?’’: he asked as he got up and took his jacket off. The psychic shook her head: ‘’No, I tell so many the truth they want to hear. They never want to know their real fortune. Most of it is bad.” Johnny nodded: ‘’You are right, hag. But that time, you were accurate…for the mother…not the boy. What is a young child but a hindrance to a single mother? She dumped me at an orphanage and found herself a rich husband. Do you know what kind of hell it was for me?’’ His voice grew louder in volume. The old lady cowered in fear. “No, I don’t know. Fate weaves long threads. Sometimes we forget it weaves a fabric.”: she nearly stuttered. He took his shirt and undershirt off. ‘’My fate was the nuns putting the fear of God into my heart and flesh. I am grateful for it now. I will love the solitude in the cold void of hell..’’: he spoke in a dark tone.

A flash of lightning brightened up the room. The symbols of the devil carved into his skin were visible. A mirror reflected the tattooed image of the horned ruler all across his back. ‘’I will take great care of your granddaughter. Her agony will bring me great joy if she still lives.’’: he smirked. Her old hands tried to push him back. The more she fought back, the better he liked it when the dagger jabbed over and over into her chest. Before she bled to death, the words of her colleague echoed in her brain: ‘’ Be careful. You don’t know what is coming. Heed my call.”