Sean M Hogan [Hogan - The Devil, the Grim Reaper, and a Ghost

A Collection of Four Dark Short Stories

Sean M. Hogan

The Devil, the Grim Reaper , and a Ghost

Copyright 2017 by Sean M. Hogan .

All rights reserved . Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in t he case of brief quotations em bodied in critical articles or reviews .

This book is a work of fiction. Names , characters , businesses, organizations , places, events and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously . Any resemblance to actual persons , living or dead , events , or l ocales is entirely coincidental .

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http://seanmichaelhogan.weebly.com/

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ISBN :

ASIN: B073NBTTBP

First Edition: Ju ly

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

THE AIR GREW BLACK, the sky bled gray, and the sewers reeked with white chemical foam. People paced the sidewalks as animals pace in manufactured steel cages, stepping in rhythms and routines carved out from years of soulless practice. A dim light bulb flickered in the alley while drug dealers exchanged merchandise and bums ciphered through trash cans and graffiti marked dumpsters. Pigeons crowded the dead remains of a maggot infested stray cat as prostitutes and pimps hustled the streets and darted between honking taxis and screeching cars. A dead body laid face down in a filthy pool of gutter water. No one seemed to mind.

Alex Greenhorn stared back between the plastic blinds, through the cold damp window, and out toward the black asphalt laced city. His nervous eyes scanned for the flashing lights of police cars. A mans voice boomed out toward Alex, jolting him from his trance.

Relax, Greenhorn, said the voice. Hell get here.

Alex glanced over then back out the window. I cant help it, said Alex. I just got this feeling, you know, a gut feeling.

Its called indigestion, said the voice. Now sit your ass down, youre making me nervous.

Alex shut the blinds, walked over to the table, and sat down next to a man with charcoal black skin and even darker eyes. The snap and shuffle of the cards gave out a rhythmic beat as the man with the dark eyes laid each card down in their place. Alex never played solitaire himself but that did not stop him from watching. His eyes needed somewhere to go to avoid making eye contact.

Here, a little liquor will do you some good, the man said, twisting the cap off of a bottle of Jack Daniels and filling two shot glasses to the brim. He slid one over to Alex and downed the other. Alex just stared at it for a brief awkward moment before sliding it back.

Ill pass, said Alex. I like to have a clear head when Im on a job.

The man frowned as his dark eyes stared down at the glass. He shifted them back up to Alex.

Alex nervously repositioned himself in his chair.

I didnt know they were gonna pair me up with a stiff, said the man. You need to relax friend, slowdown and enjoy life. I could hook you up with an old acquaintance of mine if you want. Shes had plenty of practice loosing up

Im married, said Alex interrupting him.

The man paused. His eyes met with Alexs and he continued. Listen kid, in this line of work a clear head is the last thing you need. Besides its been one fucking long night and Ill be damned if Im gonna spend another minute of it with a stiff. So, I suggest you loosen the fuck up and have a drink. The man pushed the glass back over to Alex with the tips of his fingers.

Alex glanced down at it before picking it up and pressing it against his lips. He downed the shot as quickly as he could manage.

Well, you dont have to worry about being around me for much longer, said Alex. Unlike you, I dont plan on making a career out of something like this.

The man gathered up all the cards on the table. He shuffled them a few times before starting a new game. What, you dont like getting your hands dirty? You should of thought about that before.

I didnt have much of a choice. Moneys been tight since the baby came. I didnt even have enough for a ring. Alex raised his naked left hand. You have family?

The man gave Alex a cold glance up from his cards.

Yeah, you dont look like the type, said Alex. Im new at the whole father thing myself. Shit Im no expert at the husband gig either. My wife can testify to that.

Alex quieted himself by taking in a deep breath. He watched the ceiling fan spin and wobble in its noisy rotation. His hair danced and whipped across his face as the memories of his family flooded back to him. I knew the first time I looked into my sons eyes things had to change. Thats why I had to do this. They deserve a real home. A safe neighborhood to grow up in. The good life far from shit holes like this. I owe Nicole that at least.

The man gazed up at Alexs emotionally ridden face. Nicole? he asked.

My wife, replied Alex with a smile. He pulled out his leather wallet and flipped it open.

The man stared back at a photo of a woman lying on a beach. Nicole donned thick black sun glasses that hid her eyes and an old weathered straw hat that framed her face and smile.

Alex smirked. Gorgeous, huh?

The man resumed his game. I prefer white women myself.

Alex stuffed his wallet back into his pocket. Yeah, well to each his own.

You know there are other ways a man can earn his share. Other more reputable ways.

None with this high of a turnaround, but dont worry because unlike the rest of the scum you work with I havent sold my soul just yet. I mean Im no saint but even the Pope sins now and then, right? Alex paused to force a smile. A good drinker knows his limit.

The funny thing about the color white. Once you add a little black it can never go back to its purest form again, said the man. No matter how much white you put back into it. It is forever gray.

You know what? Im fucking glad we did it. Alex shifted in his seat. Wasting that demon, Albright, was a real pleasure. If anyone deserved a seat in hell it would be him. As I see it, I should get a medal like a fucking hero.

Maxwell Albright was the first man Alex ever killed. He was a conman, a gangster, and a moral destitute. He gained himself a black spotted card, the mobs death sentence, when his associates discovered he was stealing from them. When the hit was ordered, Alex jumped at the chance for an upgrade in salary.

Funny, I never read a comic where Superman put a nine to the back of some poor slobs skull. The man tossed down the Ace of Spades.

Not much of a comic fan. So, what got the great Jack Thorne into this line of work?

A man usually gravitates toward something hes got a little talent in, said Jack. It just so happens Im good at what I do.

Theres more to your story then that, Alex pressed on. I want to know how a man gets to the point where he could take the life of another human being as easily as taking out the trash.

Jacks eyes saddened as he gathered his breath. He poured himself another glass and peered into his liquid reflection. His image grew distorted in the ripples of the brown liquor. He downed it without hesitation, cleared his throat, and began his story.

***

I grew up on a chicken farm on a modest little patch of dirt deep in the south of Mississippi, said Jack. To say the least, we were poor. So poor we couldnt see three feet in front of our faces. So poor we were gasping for air with every breath. And when youre that poor the only way out is through the end of a bottle or the end of a gun. My daddy took a liking to both.