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

you know…you can get p-pinched if you don’t wear green?”
    The girl took blind steps backward, pulling the man along. His eyes showed that he wasn’t finished talking, but his legs did nothing to keep him there. He was pulled away, and Slim was thankful.
    Just leave me be , goddamnit .
    The other girl, the one closest to him, still stared. “He’s right you know. B-bad luck not to wear green.”
    Luther barked and snapped his jaws at her. A foamy beard had formed around his mouth, droplets creating an inkblot on the concrete below him.
    The girl lifted her shirt and her tiny breasts stared at Slim, triangles of paler skin surrounding her hot pink nipples. Her clover necklace clanked against itself as it dangled over her bunched up shirt. “Happy Saint Patrick’s Day,” she said. Then she turned awkwardly and followed her friends out of the alley.
    Slim knew he should have been excited to see a pair of breasts. It had been so long. The last pair he’d seen must have been two years ago, and those belonged to Gretchen. That woman would suck a dick for a cigarette butt. Slim remembered he couldn’t even see her nipples through all the grime and grease.
    But even though the sight of the clean, young breasts was refreshing, he felt more depressed than anything. The girl had no shame in exposing herself to him. Might as well have been flashing her tits at a pile of maggoty shit for all she cared. An inanimate stinking mound of filth.
    Fuck !
    And Slim could give a flying fuck about Saint Patrick’s Day. Or any other useless holiday for that matter. Watching countless groups of staggering drunks, all clad in their green, made Slim clench his fists to calm the shakes.
    Bad luck not to wear green ? You can pinch me right here , bitch !
    As the thoughts swirled in his mind, Slim grabbed his crotch and pulled on it, wishing he’d had the nerve to do it while the girl was still staring at him.
    He didn’t feel the other tugging. He’d been staring toward the street, watching other drunks as they left the bars. He’d been thinking about the pink nipples staring at him.
    He couldn’t feel Luther sinking his teeth into the flesh of his calf, just to the side of his shin bone, the part numbed by disease. When he heard the slobbery growl, he turned and gasped.
    “Luther, no!” He reached out and grabbed a handful of loose skin on the dog’s haunches, the fur sharp like the bristles of a broom. He tried to pull the dog off of him, but Luther was in another world. A world fueled by hunger and desperation. “Fuck!”
    Slim had never wanted to see his leg. Not after the feeling in it had gone. He was too scared of what he’d see there. The last time he saw it, the deep red of the open wound that refused to heal was surrounded by blackened flesh.
    But Luther had torn away the fabric of his pant leg. His snout was stained red…but a diseased red. A dark, milky red. The dog pulled away momentarily to swallow a considerable chunk, and without meaning to, Slim looked down. At his leg. As the blood pumped from the ragged wound, the smell pumped out with it. The air was thick with it.
    Slim vomited onto his chest, still doing what he could to keep Luther away.
    The black flesh had darkened into a color he’d never seen before. It was deeply dark, inky. Surrounding the black flesh, splattered in milky crimson, was green. Spreading over his shin and under his calf, snaking its way over skin that only months ago was unaffected by his infection.
    Green.
    Flies buzzed and crawled over the open flesh, their wiggling white offspring burrowing into the tissue. Having had a taste of the pungent meat, Luther became ravenous. As hard as he tried, Slim could do nothing to keep the dog away from getting another mouthful.
    As Luther’s mouth clamped down, pinching his leg, Slim could only watch as the dog gorged himself. The dog ate the softened, diseased flesh, mouthful after mouthful, grunting and snorting as he went.
    Slim had a moment