Sweltering. I thought it would be cool today, typical Canadian climate. But instead it's hot, almost ninety degrees out, and here is Kevin Troy in sweat pants.

Kevin Troy was busy thinking to himself, complaining silently about the weather as he walks to Avondale Convenience in Grimsby, jingling silvery coins in his pockets. But beneath the inevitable complaints, he was happy. Feeling good. The sky was bright, not a cloud in the sky. A wide smile crept over his freckly face. Tomorrow was the Metallica concert!!! Yeah!! He could barely contain himself, felt like the excitement was bursting out of him. He wanted to sing, almost, but not really, because people would look at him weird and think he was gay or something. He had been wanting this...oh, forever. He and Vinnie were going to go to Buffalo to see it.

He could feel himself beaming. He wanted to share the joy. As he walked, his steps quickening, he saw Mr Nelson trimming his hedges. Mr Nelson was a wrinkly scarecrow of a man who Kevin had on his paper route. The paper route was how he earned enough cash to go see Metallica... he waved and called, "Hi, Mr Nelson!"
Mr N turned and glared as Kevin passed. His grizzled old finger rose as he flipped him the bird. Kevin quickly averted his eyes and looked forward. He had a feeling that if he looked over his shoulder he would still see that finger in its mocking salute.

Well, that was only a small flaw in his nearly perfect day. He continued on his way, the vanished smile slowly reappearing on his face. He decided to take the next alley so he could get his treat. He whistled a little tune, keeping in time with his footsteps.

He stopped just before turning into the alley at a brown house with gingerbread trim. There was a spiky, severe iron gate around it, but it was cheerful enough, not foreboding at all. The scent of roses wafted up to him and he noticed some were growind throught the fence. He plucked one and breathed in its scent, closing his eyes. When he opened them, he saw an earwig crawling inside the protective petals. Kevin screamed hoarsely. He dropped the rose and ground it into the sidewalk with his heel.

Kevin had had a fear of insects since he was four. It had started when his house became infested with cockroaches, unknown to him and his family. He remembered awaking one night after dreaming that he was being tickled mercilessly. But even as he woke the sensation continued. Being only four, he had no idea what it was until one of the cockroaches had crawled out of the sleeve of his cowboy pyjamas. Even eleven years later, he still couldn't stand creepy-crawlies.
Damn, he thought, just think about anything else, anything at all, Metallica, Vinnie...

As he turned into the alley he found himself thinking about girls. Naked ones. He had found some porno magazines in his fathers closet the other day. Well, maybe 'found' wasn't completely the right word. He had been hunting for them. He knew they were there, because he overheard his mother reprimanding his father for having them. "Oh, what if Kevvie finds them? He'll be scarred for life!" As if he wasn't even there.

But that was okay, because he had found the magazines. And there were nude women inside, and that was good, because that kind of stuff was cool with the crowd he hung out with these days. They talked about sex all day, and none of them had ever dated, much less copulated. They were immature teenage boys, and they all bluffed and invented some lurid past to tell their posse. Why, Kevin Troy had actually made them believe that he had met a--

Somebody's arm jolted him. The culprit didn't even stop to apologize, just kept walking the other way and mumbling repetitiously. Kevin Troy turned around indignantly and began walking backwards, staring at the retreating figure's back. It was a shambling, skinny creature, bony all over and shiny-bald. It walked--hobbled--with its head down and shuffled as it hurried along the sidewalk. It still didn't turn around. Kevin Troy was agitated. The stress of the heat had turned this minor annoyance into a major violation of his personal space. He decided that the hunched bald thing should have sensed his aggravation by this point. It had not. Kevin Troy took action.

"Hey baldy!" he called in mocking tones only a teenager can perfect. "Why don't ya watch where you're walkin, creep!"

The bald creep showed no signs of hearing. Kevin Troy was pissed. He stalked after the dude, forgetting about Avondale and his money and the popsicle he was going to buy to help soothe his discomfort, since unaccustomed to such warm weather. He was close enough to see the poor quality of its threadbare, tattered rags, the way they were a dull thin gray from repeated washings. They hung off its virtually skin-and-bones body and flapped as he walked. He could also smell it. It smelled like rotting vegetables. Kevin Troy suddenly felt like throwing up all over the neat sidewalk. As he drew nearer he heard the creature muttering, "No biting, no scratching, no talking. "It wiped its nose. "No biting, no scratching, no talking." Wiped its nose. Weird. It was as if the guy was reciting a lesson, or trying to remember important instructions, thought Kevin. Kevin Troy intended to interrupt that lesson as suddenly and harshly as his naked-girl fantasies had been interrupted. He grabbed the guy's arm. He could feel the stiffness of bone beneath the leathery skin. There seemed to be no muscle or flesh separating the two. "Hey buddy--" he began.

The creep stopped and turned to face Kevin. It abruptly stopped chanting and placed his free hand on Kevin's. Then, as Kevin started to scream, it dug its talons in. Blood seeped through the pucture wounds in his tender skin. The thing leaned over and ripped a large flap of skin from Kevin's cheek; the loose flesh dangled from its dog-like snout before it was slurped up greedily. The eyes were dusty gray, just dustbunnies shoved into the deep-set sockets. Sagging, grayish skin was pulled tight over the creature's humanesque skull, and the snout that jutted out was full of gray, rotting teeth. This very snout closed over Kevin's head, jaws stretching and finally clamping with a deadly grip. Long sharp fangs poked into his temples, his widening eyes, skewering his fear-ridden brain. Some juices leaked out. A mottled, bruised tongue, long and forked and covered in sick yellowish foam, snapped out to catch the drops of liquid. Then the gray creature squeezed a little. Kevin's head imploded with the pressure, and the gray creature started to swallow chunks of brain ravenously before it realized what it had done. It stared with contempt at Kevin's body, his mangled cranium.

"You made me forget," it rasped in barely a whisper. "No biting, no scratching, no talking." It wiped its nose and continued onwards.

A fly began to lay eggs on Kevin Troy.