The Boy Named Nod: Part 3 of Milk Carton

The Face on the Carton

Even as the Wrecking Crew lined up in front of me to face the onrushing tide of imps, I was looking at the three bullet holes I had made. They were in the chest of a lifeless imp whose tongue was lolling out. He was the first dead thing I had ever made. It felt different when it was you that did it, rather than infecting someone’s mind and letting a dream kill them. It wasn’t an entirely pleasant feeling. To tell the truth, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant either. It just was. I had killed something and it was lying on the floor and would not be getting back up again.

The Boy Named Nod: Part 2 of Milk Carton

Hijackers

I had come here to save a boy from suffering and his mother from certain death. I had not come here to peep through windows at rusty skeletons. Here they were though, remnants of the latest disease in a parade to take its turn filleting up parts of the city.

Oh good, the conquering hero, come to throw fate aside. Let us not mention that he destroyed or at very least, delayed one of the sources of a cure. It made me sick to my stomach that so many had died and were left to decompose in their homes. Their bodies served no real purpose, spread no disease that the Corps couldn’t cure. So to hell with them, they could stay in their tenement tombs until they faded back into dust.

Pathetic.

The Boy Named Nod: Milk Carton Part 1

Bloodhounds

“Absolutely not.”

“Mr. Nod, please reconsider.”

“I don’t reconsider hunting down children.”

“These aren’t normal children.”

“In case your powers of observation are lacking, I’m not normal either.”

“That’s one of the reasons why we chose to contact you first and foremost.”

“I see. You decided that a child would be useful to hunt down other children. While I’m loathe to forcibly expel a job offer from my home, my colleagues have no such compunction. Make your point swiftly or leave with equal speed.”