"Honk." "Watch where you are going."  An older man in his fifties peers out the window at me and yells. Eventually finding where I misplaced my Jeep, I drive as far away from the town as possible before I have to stop out of sheer lack of sleep.  With my eyes closing, I stop along side of the road and nap for a few hours before continuing.  Once I am on the road again, I see the state line for Arizona and then come across a small town named Bisbee.  Glad that I filled up on gas before getting there, I find that the little gas station in town is closed for the night and even if I wanted to, I couldn't get any till 8 a.m.  Sitting at the station, I try to figure out where to sleep that is not in the Jeep.  Finally deciding to investigate further, I walk along the deserted streets and come across a vacancy sign infront of what looks like an old western style saloon.  It seems to even be complete with an u

"Hisssss." I hear that familiar sound once again and then see her red hair flash before me, just before an older man with an eye patch notices me sitting in the bar.  When she disappears through the open door like a ghost, I stand up to go after her but he walks over to me and whispers in my ear, "Come with me for a minute, I have something to show you." Curious and hoping that it has something to do with the soul eater, I decide to follow him to the back and watch as he turns around.  It's written all over his face.  He knows who I am, now I have to leave before I even get a chance to meet the little senorita who has had the last contact with her. "Slam" I watch as he slams the door behind me and then stares at me coldly.  With wide eyes, he exclaims, "You are the man they want for murder in several states!  I saw it on the news.  I'm going to collect on that reward before anyone else realizes who you are."  

"Scratch" "Scritch, scratch" I wake up to this sound reverberating around the room.  What is that?  Finally opening my eyes, I look straight up at the ceiling at first, then I focus on the wall.  Slowly scanning as my eyes move down the wall, they catch something moving in the corner.  It’s quite dark in the room with barely any moonlight, so I must squint to see.  Watching silently, I notice when it moves again.  As my eyes focus on it, it grows clearer, and I see exactly what it is.  That small boy from the roadside, he is crouching in the corner of my room glaring at me with black eyes.  Is it her, or is there another one of them?  This one doesn’t have blazing red hair though.  Slowly getting out of bed, I put one foot on the cold floor and immediately it flies at me on all fours.  Before I can get my other foot on the floor, it is on me like a voracious badger in the wild, except for

Driving along through all the cotton fields, I finally see brush country.  As the vibrant colors fade and I start to see running water everywhere, I feel comforted because when I was growing up, I often spent most of my time fishing in the creek behind my grandpa’s house.  I can already tell that I like this place.  It feels like home. Wishing that I could take some time and just enjoy the area, I know full well that there is a man hunt on for me and my single goal in life before I die is to get ahold of her scrawny neck and sever it from her body.  At least then I know that no one else will be afflicted by the devastation and sorrow she leaves behind her.  Several times already, I have been almost caught and each time I saw a hint of her red hair.  It often keeps me up at night wondering how she is always one step ahead of me no matter how hard I try.  But then I realize that she must decide who she is going to attack before I can

“Chunk” “Ker-chunk” “Rattle” Sitting there at the light in this little town called Mound Bayou in Mississippi, the Jeep decides to stop after making quite a bit of noise.  When the rattling and shaking finally stops, the engine shuts off and I notice the engine light goes on when I check to see what’s wrong.  “Great!”  I exclaim before I slam my fist against the steering wheel. As I open the door, I scan the area for a gas station or a mechanic and find nothing immediately.  It’s just a small hoe dunk town in the middle of Mississippi and today is a scorcher.  Matter of fact, it is probably why my Jeep gave out in the first place. I remember a while back, there was a bank with the number 101 on its billboard flashing.  Now surely that meant that it is 101 degrees, because it feels like it.  Staring down at my shirt, I see that it is stained in the arm pits and my pants feel like they are sticking to my legs.&