Sin-Eater

The young man stands at the end of the gangway and tries hard not to touch any of the other people around him. This is a difficult task given how busy the airport is but he moves and ducks and turns himself in such a way that shows he has done this type of thing before. He is tall, standing six feet easily and his face is amazingly white. This is accented all the more by the fact he is dressed entirely in black including a bilious black coat that seems to swim and swarm around his frame like something alive. His eyes are blazingly blue and he appears to be a man in his twenties but his eyes reveal something different. His eyes show someone who has seen much and done much in the years he has been given. The one thing that truly sets him apart from those around him is the mop of shocking red hair that tops his head.

“Grady? Grady is that you?”

The man approaches from Grady’s left. Grady smiles when he sees the man and the smile does a lot to alleviate the agedness of his face. It is the kind of smile that would cause women to swoon were its bearer the type interested in making women do such a thing. In fact, the women who walk past him in the airport seem to step out of his path, almost unconsciously, as if wanting to avoid even the most accidental or incidental contact.

“Father Marten! Good to see you again!”

The Father is dressed in his full priestly outfit and, in many ways, resembles Grady. He is a middle aged man with hair as shockingly white as Grady’s is red. He has the kind eyes one would expect from an aging priest and wears gold wire-rimmed glasses perched precariously on his ample nose. He stretches out his right arm and hand as he approaches Grady. Grady looks down at the appendage and lets a slight grimace pass his face before he too extends his hand.

“My God, Grady, you look so grown up. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

“I was only five when I met you at that conference in Rome, father. This is what happens when you grow up.”

The two men shake hands as more and more groups of people from other planes and other gates walk past them. They are standing off to the side and not in the middle of the traffic but many give them dirty looks anyway as if they are the sole reason they are running late or ruining their vacation.

Outside the terminal the sun looks blazingly hot and Grady realizes he is woefully overdressed for the Texas climate. He breaks the contact with Father Marten and looks back to make sure his suitcase is still there. He extends the handle and nods at Father Marten.

“Thank you for coming, Grady.”

“You know I don’t have much choice in the matter, father.”

The two men begin to walk down the hallway and past the other gates. People stand in lines in front of ticket counters, check out lines in stores and even to get into the restroom. Everywhere Grady looks he sees people and he knows that any one of them might be dying or about to die. He can sense it the way others can smell meat cooking on a hot grill. He can’t tell exactly where the feeling is coming from and knows, in fact, it could be coming from many places at once. For all he knows an entire gate full of passengers may be about to die when their plane crashes just after take off. He tries to make himself as compact as possible as he walks so he doesn’t brush up against anyone lest that person be the source of the feeling and then his mind would be filled with images and thoughts. He doesn’t want to have an episode here in the airport in front of so many. He is very jet lagged and worries that the defenses he has spent a lifetime building will crumble at the merest touch and he will be reduced to a quivering heap in the middle of the airport.

“I didn’t think people could come down to the gates anymore, father.”

“There are certain benefits to being a member of the clergy and being fairly well known in these parts to boot, my boy.”

Father Marten looks up at Grady’s face and sees the young man grimace. Grady’s brow furrows and he wrinkles his nose as if he has smelled something truly awful. Grady’s eyes dart back and forth in his head. There are large bags under his eyes and his cheeks look bruised from the dark circles.

“You can still sense it?”

“Some things never change, father. You just try to learn to get used to it.”

“We’ll head back to the house for a while so you can rest. This one is going to be a whopper for you, I’m afraid.”

Grady smiles at the words and looks down at the floor as he shakes his head. He even allows himself the smallest of laughs.

“They always are, father. In their own ways, they always are.”

They reach the car after what seems like an eternity and Grady finds comfort in the solitude afforded by auto-glass and a reinforced frame. Father Marten settles in the driver’s seat and starts the car. As the priest begins to negotiate his way through the parking garage Grady ruffles through his suitcase and removes a number of file folders held together in a rough bunch by rubber bands. He removes the rubber bands and begins to set out the contents on his lap.

Pictures and newspaper clippings begin to appear like magic across his legs. As the car emerges from within the garage into sunshine Grady has arranged the clippings and the photographs in chronological order. He studies the pictures. On top of the pile is a picture of a man who is the very definition of the word mean. A man with a high forehead and long dark hair that dangles past his shoulders peers out of the frame with a kind of menace usually reserved for rabid animals. He sports a long bushy mustache that draws past the corners of his mouth and ends on either side of his chin. He scowls at the camera and whatever expressions or emotions his eyes may show are lost beneath the furrowed brown this expression is accompanied by.

The man is Luis Grafton, or so the caption beneath the picture tells Grady. Grady has looked at this information before. He was sent the files and the information weeks ago and has been studying them constantly since. He knows that Grady is one of the most vile men he has ever run across or been asked to deal with and that says a lot given the men Grady has met throughout his life. As he flips through the information the story of what Luis Grafton is, what he has done, the crimes he has committed and the fate that awaits him are blared in bold letters in newsprint.

LOCAL GIRL MISSING, FEARED DEAD, FOURTH ONE THIS MONTH

TENTH VICTIM FOUND

He pauses to read how Luis terrorized the communities in Texas that were his killing ground. He re-reads the descriptions of how the bodies were found and how brutal the methods of killing. He reads the number, 24, as the estimated number of victims Luis claimed before he was finally caught. He reads the ages again and wonders how a man could kill women and children in such a way and then taunt the police for years about his crimes. He reads about the night one of his victims got away from him and flagged down help. He reads about how the DNA evidence sealed Luis Grafton’s fate.

TRUCK DRIVER ARRESTED UNDER SUSPICION OF MURDER.

KILLING FIELDS! 14 BODIES FOUND SO FAR!

The photograph that accompanies the last headline shows Luis Grafton’s backyard. Police and agents are everywhere and mounds of dirt are piled high. There is a huge hole in the backyard lawn and the agents stand around this hole. Grady shakes his head at the thought of those men and what they must have found in those holes. Apparently Luis liked to keep the bodies close by. The reasons why make Grady shudder. The article states they found body parts in various places around his home such as in walls and behind furniture and tucked away in freezer chests in the basement.

GRAFTON CONVICTED, DEATH SENTENCE LIKELY

Grafton remained utterly mute once he was arrested. Grady pauses to look at a picture of the man in an orange jumpsuit. He is shackled at the wrists and ankles. That scowl and look of anger is still plastered on his face. Grady suspects that the attention is rewarding to Grafton and he is enjoying his time in he spotlight. Grafton never tells the police where the rest of the bodies are hidden. Grady suspects he enjoys keeping that a secret as well.

DEATH SENTENCE FOR GRAFTON

GRAFTON’S APPEALS OVER, DATE SET

Luis Grafton only admitted that he had killed anyone after he had been in prison for thee years. A famous tabloid television reporter interviewed him on national television. Grafton told his story then, staring into the camera. Grady remembers the program. He recalls the words that came out of the man’s mouth. He remembers the smile that seemed to hover near the corner of the man’s lips throughout the entire ordeal.

GRAFTON SET TO DIE IN ONE WEEK.

“Are you sure this man has become repentant, father?”

Father Marten appears to have become lost in his driving and lost in thought. He jumps a bit when Grady asks him the question.

“Yes. Certain. I have been speaking and working with him for months now. He is definitely sorry and repentant.”

“I was just thinking of that interview he did. He seemed very much like a man who enjoyed what he had done.”

“That was over two years ago, Grady. A lot can change in that time especially when a man has to face his date with destiny.”

Grady nods at this. Yes, it is certainly true that many men, however evil or brave they make themselves out to be, become something else when the specter of dying looms over them. Grady has seen even the strongest of men break down when their time comes. He looks out the window with thoughts of bodies and murder on his mind.

“Did he ever tell the police where the remaining bodies were?”

“They found three others on their own. Three are still missing. They found the other three by blind luck and not from anything Luis ever told them.”

“Wouldn’t a truly repentant man have revealed that kind of information, father?”

Father Marten seems offended by the implications of this question. He grips the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles turn white. He bites his lip.

“You sound like you don’t believe me, Grady.”

“It’s not that, father. I’m just curious. I’m just trying to get a handle on this whole thing.”

Father Marten turns and looks out the side window for just a moment. Outside the world is deceptively normal. People go about their day as if there aren’t monsters in the world or those who have to deal with them on a daily basis. Any one of them could become the next victim of a creature like Luis Grafton. Father Marten turns his head back to face the road and signals for a turn.

“You’ll meet him soon enough, Grady. In the meantime, you should probably rest. You must be pretty jet-lagged.”

Grady nods again and puts the papers back behind his seat. He too pauses to admire the normalcy that surrounds the car. He marvels for the millionth time at the bubble of craziness that surrounds him and that he carries everywhere he goes. He is forever to be denied the normal day that everyone around him is having. He eases the seat back a bit and closes his eyes.

“You’re probably right, father. You’re probably right.”

He lets himself drift off but the image in his mind of Luis Grafton’s scowling face refuses to leave him alone. He knows he will soon be in this man’s presence. Perhaps later today he will walk onto death row and meet this man face-to-face. He has been face-to-face with monster before but by the time he reached them they were no longer monsters. They were humans facing their mortality and that had reduced them all to little more than children. He can’t help but wonder if he will find the same thing with Luis Grafton.

The car moves forward through the sunlit streets bearing its passengers ever closer to its date with evil.

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