A Helpful Monster
A fictional short story
Squint looked up through the holes in the grate, watching as a woman walk down the dark ally. She did it almost every night, walked this dark, deserted road to get to her car parked at the end. You would think as much money as the bar makes, they could afford to put some lighting up for their employees.
Squint shook his head. Every night he watched to make sure she made it safely. This wasn’t the best part of town, and he kind of liked the girl. She brushed a strand of dark out of her face as she fished in her purse for her keys.
A flash of movement near the entrance caught his eye, and he shifted his focus from the woman to the shadow headed her way. For six months, he sat in the sewer and watched, waiting for this very night.
He drew in a deep breath and waited until the man passed the grate before quietly lifting it and slipping it to the side. This was the day he had waited for, trained for. He was actually going to be able to help someone.
The man pulled a knife from his pocket and flipped it open. It was now or never. He hoisted his ten foot long body out of the sewer just as the man grabbed the woman’s shoulder. She turned around and let out a blood-curdling scream that had squint covering his ears.
