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Nocturnal Legacy

A young girl learns of her role in a dark pact.

“I asked for two pounds of ham and I want two pounds of ham!” the woman complained. “Not one point nine!”

“Sorry, Ma’am.” I replied, putting another slice on the scale, my mind wandering again.

Handing the woman her package, I glanced back over at the bakery counter.

“He’s looking at me again!” I squealed.

“Just go talk to him!” Judy urged in her graveled, low-pitched voice, “Life’s too short to mess around.”

“I can’t just go up and start talking to him!” I argued.

“Suit yourself… smoke break.” Judy announce, removing her apron and leaving the deli counter.

We exchanged glances several times over the next few minutes as I wiped counters, trying to work up the courage to talk to him.

“You two! Go talk to him already!” Judy urged.

“You really think I should?”

“Go!” she snapped.

I washed my hands and casually walked toward the bakery, pretending to look at the various breads and rolls on the shelves.

“Hi.” I greeted, finally braving a direct approach to the counter.

“Uh… hi.” he replied.

“I… I’m Emily.”

“I’m… uh, Jacob.”

“Hi, Jacob… did you just start here?” I asked, twisting my long auburn hair with my finger.

“Yeah, yesterday.”

“I didn’t think I’d seen you before.”

“My uh… my uncle works at the store over on Palmer St. He got me on here as soon as I turned 18.” he said.

“Really? That’s cool. I just turned 19.”

“I know, uh… Judy told me.”

I looked over and gave the smiling Judy a menacing glare.

We talked for as long as we could get away with, our conversation cut short by the supervisor taking one of his rare breaks from playing solitaire on his computer.

“Are we paying you to chit-chat?” he asked.

“Sorry, Mark.” I apologized, wondering if they paid him to play games.

Over the next few minutes, he gave me his cell number using hand signals. The rest of my shift was spent texting him in-between pesky customers.

We texted well in to the night, even after I went to bed in my one bedroom studio apartment. I eventually fell asleep while waiting for a reply from him. He had apparently fallen asleep as well.

*****

Arriving nine minutes late, I punched the clock and headed to the deli counter. I looked for Jacob but didn’t see him. He probably overslept also.

Several hours passed and he never showed up. Around noon, my supervisor called me in to his office.

“Emily, these men are detectives. They want to talk to you.” Mark said, making a motion with his hand toward two men in suits.

“Wha… what’s going on?”

“Please have a seat, Ma’am.”

“I’m Detective Harrison, and this is Detective Paulson.” the taller one said, “We need to ask you a few questions about a ‘Jacob Anderson’”.

“Jacob? What’s… is… is something wrong?” I stammered.

“Ma’am, I’m sorry… Jacob is dead.” Detective Harrison informed me, without emotion.

“He’s… no, there must be a mistake. I just texted him last night.”

“His parents found him this morning. He was apparently killed late last night.”

“It can’t be him… we just… What happened?”

“It would better if you didn’t know the details, Ma’am.” Detective Harrison replied, “But we need to ask you a few questions.”

“Not again…” I whispered, my hand to my mouth.

“’Again’ Ma’am?” Detective Harrison asked.

Tears trailed down my cheek as I sat in stunned silence.

“Ma’am?” he repeated.

“Huh? I’m sorry…” I replied, snapping out of my trance.

“You said ‘Not again’.”

“I… my… my mother. Right after I was born.”

“What happened to her, Ma’am?”

“They never figured it out. They found her… in… in the woods. She was… I can’t! I can’t do this right now!”

“Take your time, Ma’am.” Detective Paulson said.

I took several deep breaths and tried to pull myself together.

“They found my mother in the woods. She had just given birth to me. Her body… was… was… they said it might have been a bear.”

“I’m sorry, Ma’am.” Detective Harrison said.

“My aunt raised me.” I added.

The detectives remained silent.

“And… a… a boy I liked when I was sixteen.”

“What about him, Ma’am?”

“They found him… in his bed. he was… just like my mother.”

“Mutilated?” Detective Paulson asked.

“Yes!” I cried, putting my head in my hands.

“Ma’am, I need you to come down to the station with us.” Detective Harrison said, standing up and adjusting his suit.

“Are you…

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