Read A Hacked-Up Holiday Massacre: Halloween Is Going to Be Jealous for Free Online

anywhere. He stuffed his hand into his coat pocket, felt the cigarette there, sighed. His nicotine addiction was kicking him in the balls, but he chewed on it until it subsided.
    Luther’s eyes went from Slim’s leg, back to Slim’s face. His tail was between his legs and he whined, whispery and low. His tongue slithered over his chops and snout, matting the hair down with dampness.
    Slim flinched as laughter erupted from the street just a few feet away from where he and Luther sat, concealed by the alley’s darkness like two broken-winged bats on a cave floor. The alley was their home. Well, Slim hadn’t meant for it to be their home, but he sat there one day when his leg was smarting something fierce, and he hadn’t been able to move since. Therefore, home sweet home the alley became. It wasn’t so bad at first. He’d plopped down within arm’s reach of a trash can that had some salvageable food inside. He didn’t know who it belonged to, but whoever it was, they hadn’t refilled it since he’d been there. He hoped for them to come each day, but they always disappointed. And as he sat there in that spot, the feeling in his leg turned from excruciating pain to nothing—an ominous numbness.
    He didn’t know how long he’d been sitting in that spot, lost track of the coming and going of sunlight. A cakey soup of his own shit and piss cemented him to the ground and wall he was propped up against. The smell of it mixed with the pungent aroma of his festering leg and became a potpourri of putridity. Flies zigzagged around them in a constant chaotic buzz.
    Slim twisted his head to face the ruckus sounding from his left and saw a man, each one of his arms wrapped around the necks of scantily clad girls on either side of him. All three of them smothered in green clothing. Slim envied their obvious intoxication, and just watching them stumble along made him shake with need. The girls, wobbly-legged themselves, had to hold up the mumbling man as his feet danced drunkenly on the pavement, refusing to stay straight. They giggled in unison, then lost their footing and all collapsed into a dogpile of green cotton and sweaty skin.
    Luther growled. He stepped in between Slim and the interlopers, lowered his head and glared at them.
    “Whoa…fuckin’ dog,” the man said, one of the girls’ legs pinned under his chest. “Here poochy poochy.” This was followed by howling laughter and snickering from the girls.
    They started to climb back to their feet when one of the females noticed Slim. She squinted into the darkness, simultaneously stumbling to catch her balance. A verdant shine reflected off the plastic clover necklace dangling from her neck.
    “S-someone there?” She took about five clumsy steps into the alley, her ankles threatening to snap as she tried balancing on her high-heels. She stopped suddenly. “God damn…fuckin’ smells!”
    This remark invited more snickering and cackling from the others. Luther took a few more steps toward her.
    Slim stayed quiet. He only wanted them to leave him be. His body shook with hunger and thirst, and most of all, withdrawal. He just stayed still, peering at the girl who stared at him as if he was some kind of zoo animal on display for her pleasure. A fly landed on his nose and tickled it with tiny filth-dipped legs.
    The man, with help from the other female, joined their friend in gawking at Slim. They all just stood there, silent, as if just the smell of him had sobered them up.
    “Hey…buddy,” the man said. “Y-you’re not wearing any gr…green.” He nearly fell over after saying this, but his friend kept him up.
    “Come on,” the girl holding him up said, “let’s get f-fuck outta here. That mu…motherfucker reeks!”
    Luther took another step toward them. Slim thought about pulling him back, but he didn’t. He just stayed put, as if remaining perfectly still would camouflage him from the drunkards’ sight.
    “H-hey,” the man said, “buddy. D-don’t