The Stygian's Eye
By GJ Winters
Published by Publications Circulations LLC.
SmashWords Edition
All contents copyright (C) 2013 by Publications Circulations LLC. All rights reserved. No part of this document or the related files may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, by any means (electronic, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, companies and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and beyond the intent of either the author or the publisher.
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CHAPTER ONE
THE CAR SPED down the dark country road like it had a thousand times in the past. Darian had driven this road numerous times and knew exactly where every bump and turn was, usually without even thinking about it.
Most of the time he would catch himself thinking about something and end up miles down the road without remembering how he got there. The casual redundancy of his trip into town gave him a chance to think about all kinds of things but, on this trip, all he could think about was the fact that he was out of smokes.
He could see the lights over the hill as his 1969 Camaro roared past the dairy farm on the outskirts of town. He had always imagined himself working in that dairy farm whenever he drove past the place. He wondered what it would be like to be around all those cows as they were herded into the barn to be milked.
His natural love of animals made the thought of working on a farm seem like something that could turn his life around. He thought about stopping in one day to see if they needed any help. Now, however, his main goal was to get to the convenience store before they closed for the night.
Having lived in a major city most of his life, he still couldn't understand why a gas station in a small town on a highway would actually close, but there were a lot of things he didn't get about small towns. He smiled at the thought of finding himself so far removed from civilization. At least what he thought of as civilization, anyway.
Darian hit the dimmer switch to take his headlights off the bright setting as he rolled into town. Passing by quaint homes with their freshly mowed yards, his route took him through the center of town. The small place sat quietly, like a ghost town, as all the shops and businesses were closed.
Occasionally, he would see the town's stray cat walking across the street when he had to make these late night runs, but it didn't seem to be out tonight. That would save him a couple bucks as he would always pick up something from the gas station deli to give to the poor thing. It took almost six months, but he finally got the cat to stay still while he gently tossed the food over to it.
Darian reached the gas station with about fifteen minutes to spare before closing. As he pulled into a parking space, he thought about how great this night was going to be and looked forward to tomorrow. His old high school friend was coming to visit.
There was a brief memory flash of him and his friend walking to a gas station during a house party to buy smokes-completely wasted and laughing the entire time. The lady behind the counter would have called the cops, but she was laughing at them so hard that she couldn't have explained the situation if she wanted to.
Darian walked into the store with purpose, wanting to get his smokes and head back home. He never understood how people could walk into a store and spend hours looking at everything available. He was the type of guy that would go to a store to buy something and walk out with whatever he needed in a matter of minutes, usually taking longer to wait in the checkout line than actually shopping for the things he needed.
The girl behind the counter wasn't exactly new, but he had never seen her working a late night shift in the past. He had, on occasion, dealt with her during the daytime and knew that she wasn't the brightest bulb in the box. It usually took her a few minutes to figure out what he was asking for, if he had to ask for anything, and she rarely ever rang anything up correctly. She tried charging him $28 for a bottle of soda and a candy bar once, and it took her twenty minutes to figure out what she had done wrong.
Darian smiled as he walked in, remembering that instance and wondered what would end up causing her to mess up this time.
"Can I help you?" she asked flippantly. The funny thing was she didn't even take her eyes off of the video she was watching on her phone when she asked.
"Cheapest menthol shorts in a box, please."
She sighed heavily, finally hitting the pause button and setting her phone on the counter. It wasn't until then that she looked up and saw Darian standing there. "What brand?"
Her name was Lacey and she was a home-grown, small town girl that had lived here her entire life. She was considered the black sheep of the family and it wasn't too difficult to understand why.
Her father was the Pastor of one of the local churches and she had taken it upon herself to distance herself from the family by becoming a Goth. She dyed her hair black and got it shaved on one side, which made her look really strange to everyone in town. Her tattoos and piercings made it almost impossible for her to get a job in this little town, but the owner of the gas station was a family friend and made an exception for her.
The idea was that she would learn some responsibility and change her ways towards being a better person. Of course, she just spent her money on more ways of becoming a complete outcast to her family.
"Whatever the cheapest brand you have will be fine." Darian looked at her, knowing that this conversation could take them into next week if he wasn't careful.
Darian wasn't an overly handsome man, but he wasn't all that bad to look at, either. At least, that was what he had been told on more than one occasion. His hair was down past his shoulders and had that light softness to it that movie stars seem to always have.
His goatee was maniacally groomed to the point where it looked more like it was painted on his face rather than grown. He had a few tattoos from his wilder days as a youth and a couple of piercings as well, but nothing that seemed to upset anyone that he had to deal with in town. Overall he was pretty average, if not just a bit shorter than everyone else around him.
"I don't know what the cheapest brands are, so if you could just tell me which one you want, that would be great."
Lacey looked like she was about to get really upset at this point. It probably had something to do with the fact that the store was due to close any minute, and she wanted to go home.
Darian looked over the counter at the rack containing cigarettes and saw the prices labeled so that everyone could see them clearly. Pointing to the one close to the bottom left corner, he said, "I'll take those and a pack of matches please."
Lacey turned in what seemed to Darian to be the most overly dramatic posture she could possibly have gathered the strength to achieve and looked down at the bottom row of cigarettes.
"Seriously? You want the ones on the bottom?" She rolled her eyes back to Darian with a look of shear hatred. "I bet you just want me to bend over so that you can get a good look at my ass."
"No, not really," Darian stated with absolutely no emotion whatsoever. "I would simply like my smokes so I can go back home, and your ass has nothing to do with it."
Darian fished his money out of his back pocket as Lacey bent over to get the smokes. He glanced up as she bent down and couldn't help but get a look at her in that tight leather miniskirt. He didn't see anything and probably wouldn't have looked anyway except for the fact that she had mentioned it. He smiled to himself as she stood back up and turned around. She ra
ng up the cigarettes and was about to tell him the price when the door buzzer went off.
They both turned and looked as a man walked hurriedly into the store. He glanced back and forth a couple of times before brandishing a pistol from his jacket pocket.
"Empty the register into a bag. NOW!" he screamed at Lacey. "Step the fuck back, man, or you're gonna get it!" he yelled at Darian, as he stepped in close to get between them.
Lacey, being not too bright and extremely terrified, started screaming and trembling behind the counter. She was yelling at the guy not to kill her and something about the safe being locked. Darian took a couple steps back, raising his hands up.
"Lacey, you need to calm down and do what this guy tells you to do. Don't panic and it will be over with. He will leave." Darian tried to keep his voice as calm as he could, but he could feel the adrenalin starting to pump into his system. The last thing he wanted to do was get involved in something like this, and he was starting to second guess his decision of heading out for smokes at that particular time of night.
Lacey, sobbing, did her best to get the cash register open and put what money was left into a plastic bag. Unfortunately, she kept dropping it on the floor and couldn't get the bag to open enough to put the money in it. The man with the gun was starting to get increasingly nervous and was waving the gun back and forth between the two of them, yelling about how she needed to hurry up or they were both going to die tonight.
Darian knew that her nervousness was making it harder for Lacey to do what the robber asked her to do, but he couldn't say anything as the guy kept telling him to shut up. All he could do was stand there and watch in silence as Lacey kept delaying the robber's getaway.
While he was waiting for Lacey to get the money in the bag, he turned to Darian and took the money from his hand.
"Awww, come on man. That's for my smokes, dude. There's no reason to do that to me." Darian heard himself saying the words, but couldn't understand why they were being said out loud. He wasn't trying to upset the guy or anything. He just really wanted to have a smoke after all of this excitement in his life. In fact, if he had a smoke now, he would have lit it up right there and then in the hopes that it might calm the situation down just a bit.
The man with the gun stood still and glared at Darian. His eyes were a twisted combination of ice blue and black, swirling around the iris like water draining out of the bathtub. Darian stood shocked for a moment and blinked his own eyes a couple of times to make sure he was seeing what was really there and not some figment of his imagination. The man turned back to yell at Lacey one more time and then stared into Darian's eyes again.
"You did this to yourself, you little bitch."
The man said this in the calmest and most collected voice Darian had ever heard. He stared directly at Darian as he lifted the gun up to shoulder height and pulled the trigger.
The sound of the gun was deafening in the small gas station. The muzzle flash briefly blinded Darian as he tried his best to fall to the ground for cover.
Three more shots rang in the distance as his ears tried to recover from the first gun shot, and Darian could feel the spray of some kind of liquid as it hit his face and hands. He imagined a bottle or water or something sitting on the counter being hit by one of the bullets and hoped that Lacey had moved back enough to not be hit by a ricochet.
There was a momentary scream and then a sharp pain on the top of Darian's head before the blackness set in.