They call me Thomas Whitman although that isn’t my real name. Whenever I hear someone say that everyone has a story a tell I can’t help but laugh, actually I never hear that except in movies. So far I’ve never really knew that to be true, sure I like hearing the occasional story of a friend who got caught screwing a rival’s woman, or how one got revenge for getting screwed over, but most stories are boring and usually consist of a fucking sandwich somebody decided to eat. Well I guess what they say is true, everyone has a story to tell so I guess I’ll tell mine before my time runs out.

So let’s see, how do you tell these things? I guess I’ll start from the beginning. I’m born, I grow up, I meet women, I have sex with them..same old life story for everyone, right? Well I guess I’ll begin where the most interesting stuff happens. Like how the heck did I end up in this place.

Let me describe myself first, I’m about 6,1 and 163 pounds with short blonde hair and light blue eyes. I’m built strong and lean, I have to be in this business. So I guess the question that springs to mind is, what is it you do? I kill people, I hunt people down when need be, let’s just say that if you see me and have heard of me then you’re not going to like the meeting.

I also do light jobs, after all I can’t stay in the action forever, I’m 35 years old which is a miracle in itself and I have a wife and a kid on the way..or I had one on the way.

What I remember the most about the day this whole thing began was that it was hot, hot as hell. I felt like the sweat on the back of a monkey’s ass. I never should have eaten the burritos from that run down shithole. I was in Silver city, New Mexico about to take what I considered to be my last job before calling it quits to live a normal life. The job was simple but the pay was unusually high, I didn’t want to go out like that I wanted my last job to be filled with blood, death, and destruction but I couldn’t turn this down and I made another promise to my wife that I actually wanted to keep.

I head out of the cockroach infested Motel and immediately put on my shades, I hated this place, the sun was like living in hell, I couldn’t wait to get home, I could practically feel the ocean washing over my near sun burnt skin. I leave my car behind and walk across the street to a little café that could have seen better days.

“Nice to finally meet you.” Greeted the man with the handle bar moustache. “I’m sure you’ve already been filled in on what is expected of you?” I hate his smile. He looks like one of those swarmy Mexicans you just know will stab you in the back if you let your guard down for five seconds and he knew he would get some sort of reward for it.

“Yeah.” I reply. “Take these documents to the Catedral Hotel in Mexico City.”

The man nodded and smiled that same annoying smile.

“That’s all you have to do, Senior.”

“How will I know…”

“He will know you.”

The man went back to reading his paper as if I was no longer of any need, I knew there was something about this guy I hated. I get up not wanting to spend another second with him and head to the little Taco Kiosk down the street.

My watch rings, it’s my wife… again.

“Sweetheart when are you coming home?” She said exasperated. “I’ll be going into labor any day now, you promised you would be there, Please, I—“

I hang up the phone and order my burrito. The next morning I got out of bed and took a look at my watch 6:30 a.m. time to go. I leave the prostitute I screwed in the bed as I hurriedly put on my clothes, grab my bag and head out the door. I jump into my Venza 10 and head out on the highway.

I drive for several miles along the desert highway, I must have been driving for hours, but it’s okay I have my windows rolled up and my air conditioner on full blast. I check my GPS system and I seem to be going along just fine. I come across Highway 306, checking my GPS this road should take me directly into Mexico.

I continue to drive along this lonely stretch of road until nightfall. It was then that I noticed that not only was I now low on gas but I haven’t seen a single sign directing me to a rest stop or gas station. Lucky for me I have a spare container of gas in my trunk that will hopefully carry me until I can fill them both up and be on my way but as the night becomes pitch black I realized that it just was not happening.

My car sputters out of gas, but this wasn’t enough to alarm me, I still haven’t used my container and it should give me about a quarter of gas when I do use it. Oh well. I park my car on the side of the inky black road, shut off all the lights in the car and curl up in the back seat for some sleep. Too bad I forgot my jacket, I forgot how cold the desert region can be at night.

A shifting sound was heard not too long after I closed my eyes, followed by a small rumbling noise. Not taking any chances I cock my gun making sure the safety was off. Uneventful job my ass.

I don’t know when it happened but I woke up the next morning, the sun beating down on my face, yeah I was sun burned. I crawl to the front seat and start the car only to get a sputtering noise before it died. Oh yeah the gas. I get out the car with a heavy sigh to retrieve the gas container from the trunk when I see one of my tires on a flat. Son of a bitch! I used my spare tire going into Silver City, what are the chances?

Just when I was going to open up the trunk anyway, I don’t know, maybe in the back of my mind I just wanted a spare tire to be there, I see a huge gash on the passenger side of my car. The metal was twisted and the blood splattered the dusty white paint job. What the hell is this?

I rush to the driver side and grab my gun out the passenger seat. I’m breathing hard, my hands are clammy, my face hurts. I take a deep breath and walk across the small road and begin searching the other side. I walk over to the passenger side and take a few paces through the dusty grassy area and see nothing but a trail of blood here and there. I know what time it is. I run to my car, grab the gas container and fill up my tank looking this way and that way, my gun ready to fire.

The eerie silence of this road was a enough to get on my bad side, but a lonely stretch of road, a half torn and blood stained car, with a blood trail leading away from said car was enough to make the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention.

I was on full alert and once I emptied the container into the tank I tossed it back into the trunk, closed it and jumped into the car as if the structure itself was enough to protect me. Ha!

I turn the ignition and peel off wobbly but surely away from that spot. I drive on and on trying my best to keep the wheel steady, in my panic I forgot to turn on the air conditioner, and with my windows rolled high the car was like an oven, I crack my window not wanting to take a chance on a fucked up battery, what else could go wrong?

Finally I saw a billboard sign. I couldn’t understand the language but it had an arrow pointing straight ahead. I chuckle slightly for no real reason.

A smile was now on my face at least a good hour later. My car sputters out of gas but I was pulling into a diner..and look gas, relief. Now I can drive my ass off to Mexico, drop these documents off and take a flight home. I get out the car, the sun relentless on my reddened face as I stepped into the diner. The customers stopped what they were doing and all looked at me. I paid it no mind and headed over to the bar. I sit down to take a breather before heading over to the pay phone, I should call my wife—-no my contact.

This is odd, I hear his voice but it’s fizzing out on me. I hang up and go back to the bar.

“Where am I?” I ask the dirty blonde and too much make-up wearing waitress. She gives me a funny confused look.

I point at the menu instead, the least I can do is get some food and drinks in my belly. It’s not in English. “English, Pour favor.” She looks at me like I got two heads or something. This is ridiculous. I look around the damn place and point at a random plate, looks like a burger and some fries. I point at his glass of water. She seem to have understood.

She brings me my food and I notice that everyone is still staring at me before going back into their perspective worlds. Now it was my turn to look around at the various dust mites that made up this joint. Everyone looks dirty as if they had just crawled out of a dust storm.

When my meal was over I put a twenty on the counter and got up to leave. But a commotion from the waitress stops me in my tracks. She looked at the money worriedly then run to the back. Screw it, I’m out of here. I head out the door and I get that sensation again that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand tall. I turn my head slightly to see a small crowd of those dust mites trailing out of the diner. All I wanted to do was get something to eat, fill my tank and possibly talk to someone about my tire. Now I’m thinking of ditching that death trap altogether and making a run for it. I pull my gun out, yeah everything is ready to go.

Just give me one reason and I’m firing into these weird pieces of shit. I finally had enough of these guys trailing slowly but surely at a distance behind me and I finally speak.

“What the hell are you looking for?!”

The small crowd stops and I can hear them whispering among themselves in a language I couldn’t fucking understand.

This time I’m facing them completely, gun out and ready for any action…or so I thought. I soon felt a cold sensation run down my back and shoulder and the feeling of my flesh being torn away. The pain finally caught up with me and I screamed firing my gun behind me. I turn around to see a dust mite dead, but I know he wasn’t from the crowd.

I stumble back holding the hole that was my shoulder, I could feel the socket connecting my limb to my body. I fired blindly into the crowd and it looks like that was enough to get them moving towards me instead of the opposite effect. I ran off as fast as my feet could take me and they were running right behind me.

Who and what the hell are they, what type of backwards shit hole did I end up? I run off into the blazing hot and dry desert hoping to lose them. Just keep my head low and not think about them chasing me, just think about staying alive, if that was even possible.

I hear a whirling sound that was approaching louder and louder until I had no choice but to look up, it was some sort of flying car, or small truck. What the hell is this?

That was my final thought before I was knocked in the head. I soon woke up, my body in full adrenaline rush to stay down completely. I feel the cold slab of the truck and before I got lost in the feeling of that cold refreshing feeling, I stumble to my feet and look through the truck’s thick window and see the two drivers up front chatting away in whatever language they were speaking.

I search my holster, my gun was gone, but before I could linger on that thought I saw that these guys weren’t human at all. Just a glimpse in the mirror revealed a reptilian creature, green and scaly with red bulging eyes, the sharp teeth jutting out the small mouth like a saber tooth cat. One smiled revealing a row of tiny razor sharp incisors. The passenger turned his head to look into the back window and I duck as fast as I could. Just where the hell have I ended up?!

I look out the small barred window of the back of the truck and see a large city, dark and cloudy with huge towers jutting out of the ground that looked like the tentacles of a great beast. I see people working, cooking, arguing, and even children playing. The truck descend into a hole that gapped open, My God this place really was alive.

My body finally gives in and I passed out from the pain. This time I woke up and my shoulder was mended, but I was laying on a bale of hay inside of some cage. I look around, it’s a kitchen. Although the place was dark and slimy I could see the chef was chopping up meat. Soon the large, burly, and greasing looking man walk over to another cage across from mine and yank a small man out who screamed and cried before it was over. I watch as he threw the carcass on the table and begin to work it, cutting meat from bone and tossing it in the large pot on the fire. I stumble back hoping the darkness of this prison would be enough to shield me completely.

I step on something soft, kicking the hay away reveal it to be a severed arm! Oh God!

So that’s how I got here, pressed against the wall awaiting my fate. How the hell did this happen? I can’t seem to think of anything else, but almost as if a light switch had been turned on in my head I remember my wife, my son, or what I hoped would be my son, fuck it my child. I wanted to be home more than anything, with my wife and child, I wanted to raise that kid right, to not turn out like his old man, I wanted—

My phone is ringing.

“Honey! I—You – here – I had the baby! – Sweetheart – it’s a—“