Night Prey

The old owl, worn and weathered by the years, perched atop of the large barn at the back of Hank’s property. Hank had just turned onto the long drive that would lead him back to the barn. The barn where the owl waited and watched nightly. Their usual routine had grown into a comfortable fit for both of them. As Hank would get out of his old van and grab his take for the night he never failed to look up and greet the owl with a little “Hello Jim.” Hank had been calling the old owl Jim since he inherited the property from his father eight years ago.

The owl would turn his head about and call out, “who who.” Hank would always laugh and respond with a simple “oh it’s just me, Hank.” Though the exchange between them gave sound to the still nights, there were always other voices as well. Hank never drove straight to the barn unless he had secured a young lady for the night. Hank was not interested in a one night stands or anything even close to a romantic exchange.

Hank brought these girls here for one reason. He wanted to make them pay. He wanted them to suffer. When he looked at them they were all his mother. His mother who ran off and left him at such a young age. She left him with a violent father who frequently lashed out in rage and made Hank his punching bag. She did this to him, she was responsible for all the pain. They all were. They all must pay.

Hank would bring the girls inside and bind them with fetters about their ankles. He liked their hands to be free. He could not bring himself to bring revenge on a girl he didn’t feel could fight back. His routine with the girls he took was always the same. He started by screaming at them. Telling them what they did to him and how much he hated them. He would then began hitting and kicking them. Continuously taunting them. Many nights he would cry and beg just as much as they did. He would beg and plead to know why they didn’t love him. Why they left him alone.

It never took long after Hank starting using farming tools for the girls to begin to plead for death. This was Hank’s favorite part. He loved to tell them how they now knew the way he felt when they left him behind. How he felt when daddy would hurt him. There was never anything too cruel for Hank to do or say. He always felt they deserved anything and everything he did. They were all his mother.

The old owl left the spot where he had perched. He took a quick flight around the barn to look for a field mouse or any other thing he could devour. His sight was failing him and he rarely had a successful hunt. There were exceptions to his failure. After Hank would move the girls’ lifeless bodies out into the trees just passed the pond hunting would be easy for at least a week. The bodies would inevitably invite a variety of small creatures that would ensure the owl would have an easy meal.

The old owl flew into the cupola and found a collar brace to perch on. He watched on in anticipation knowing prey would be readily available to him by the next evening. He watched as Hank picked up a pitchfork. This was something new. The old owl had never seen him use a pitchfork before. Hank drew his right arm back with the pitchfork securely in his hand. The young girl of the evening was done fighting. She was ready for it to end.

As the young girl pleaded for Hank to do it noise from outside filled the entire space of the barn. The girl regained her hope that she might escape as the old barn door flew open. Police officers quickly filed into the barn. They quickly tackled Hank and secured him. She was saved. The wave of relief rushed through her. As an officer began to loosen her chains and tell her she was ok she began to sob uncontrollably in relief.

The old owl, Jim, flew out of the barn and perched once again atop the old barn. He watched as they took Hank out to a police cruiser. Hank looked up and whispered “goodbye Jim, goodbye.” As the old owl saw all the police cars slowly leave the property in what was sure to be a joyous parade for the young girl; he bowed his head. The young girl’s freedom was a death sentence for Jim.