[ WP ] Write a story where evil triumphs over good , and evil is just pure evil without any redeeming qualities

Greg closed the door and locked it behind him. * “ What a long fucking week. ” * he thought. He placed his keys, wallet, phone on the table by the front door. Shoes shucked off and pushed under the end table by the sofa. * “ Have to put things in their place. Bill will learn to just throw his shit wherever if he sees me doing it. ” * 
 
 As he walked to the kitchen, he mentally ticked off his to-do list for the week. The main thing had been the project, and it was as done as it was getting. Katherine would look it over on Monday, then they would review it after lunch, maybe a late night ( another late night ) on Monday to tweak any issues, then the meeting on Tuesday. * “ Then we put that cocksucker to bed. ” * After that it would be on to the next thing, and the next, until he retired or dropped dead. 
 
 He pulled two of the dinners he had prepared last Sunday out of the freezer and put them on the counter to thaw. They would have pot roast with gravy, mashed potatoes and green beans tonight. Tomorrow they would go out for pizza, and they would finish the leftovers with some spinach salad on Sunday. * “ Marissa will be dropping by any minute. ” * He thought, * “ Or anyway, she ’ ll be slowing down long enough for Bill to jump out. ” * Of course, she couldn ’ t fucking come in and say two words to him, like a fucking adult. 
 
 Greg closed the freezer door harder than he meant to, and left his hand on the handle, squeezing hard. His shoulders shook as he exhaled. He wanted a beer, but that would have to wait until Bill had gone to bed. He had to get ready to see his son. * “ ’ Hey Buddy, how was soccer? ’ Don ’ t ask if he scored a goal, don ’ t ask about his Mom. ‘ How is school going? ’ ” * 
 
 Greg sighed again as he turned to go upstairs. He wanted to put on jeans and a t-shirt before Bill got here. He wanted to be Fun Dad, not Work Dad from the jump. That ’ s when he saw the man in black. 
 
 He was casually sitting at the kitchen table with his legs stretched out and one foot resting on top of the other. His hands were laced over his stomach, and his face wore the look Greg had seen on his boss during the first few slides of a Power Point. Eyebrows slightly raised, intent, but waiting for the good stuff to start. 
 
 “ Shall we? ” The man said as he slowly rose to his feet, spreading his hands slightly and taking a step toward Greg. 
 
 “ What? ” Greg asked, stepping back. His brain was unable to process this particular piece of information. * “ Do I know this guy? Is he supposed to be here? ” * 
 
 The man looked Greg in the eye as he advanced, leisurely, his eyebrows raised and lips slightly upturned. He took two steps from the table to the freezer, reached out with his left hand, and broke Greg ’ s right collarbone. 
 
 The pain arced through Greg ’ s right side, sparking his brain to life and his limbs into movement. His left arm swung in a wide arc, knocking the man in black back a step. Greg stumbled backward, trying to put distance between them, but ran into the counter. The Tupperware containers fell to the floor, popping and clattering. As Greg slid along the counter top, the man in black raised his right arm. Greg brought up his forearm to block the blow, hunching to his right. He was unprepared for the slap the man delivered to the right side of his face. The sound reverberated through the kitchen, wet and stinging, and a high buzz started in Greg ’ s right ear. The blow knocked him to the side, back into the corner of the fridge. He managed to plant his foot, pivot on his hip and send a left hook into the man ’ s face. The expectant smirk widened into a Cheshire grin, and Greg felt something in his hand give way. 
 
 He was halfway up the stairs before the voice in the back of his head yelling, * “ Fool, don ’ t go up there! ” * reached him. Some simian part of his brain stem had taken over, but it was too late to countermand the order now. * “ I ’ ll jump out of a window. ” * Greg thought as he climbed. Pain radiated from his shoulder. His legs moved as if through pudding, distracted by the pain in his torso. “ That punch must have been weaker than I thought. “ Behind him, he could hear the man ’ s feet as he slowly turned to follow Greg up the stairs. Thump. Thump. * “ Maybe that punch slowed him down after all. ” * 
 
 Greg reached the landing and turned right into his bedroom. There was a gun in the nightstand on the far side of the bed, but Greg had to stop and claw through his sock drawer for the key to the trigger lock before he could get it. Even without Marissa and her anti-gun bullshit the options hadn ’ t been good. Keep the gun unloaded and fumble with bullets in an emergency. Put a trigger lock on and have to find a key. Put the gun in a cabinet, where it would be even harder to access. Keep it loaded and unlocked, easy for Greg to get, but easy for one of Bill ’ s shithead little friends to find, too. The thought of a bullet shattering one of those ice blue eyes had made the decision easy. 
 
 The gun was out now, unlocked and ready. Greg felt a renewed energy course through him now that he was armed. The thumping steps were half way up the stairs. Greg moved quietly back to the landing, taking a prone position on the far side, with a good view of the stairs. He rested his weight on his left elbow. His right hand was shaking, but he was confident he could still squeeze the trigger just fine. 
 
 * “ Got you, cocksucker. ” * Greg thought as the man stepped onto the landing. The bullet took him in the right shoulder, cutting through the flesh cleanly and embedding itself in the wall behind the man ’ s head. A shot like that should have sent him tumbling down the stairs, but the man in black just spun slightly on his heel, looked at Greg, and dashed for the guest room on the other side of the landing. 
 
 “ Dashed ” was the word Greg ’ s brain supplied, but it wasn ’ t quite right. He knew the man was in the guest room now, but he wasn ’ t sure he had actually seen him run there. * “ Did I pass out for a second? ” * Greg wondered. His body didn ’ t stop to wonder, though. Bang! A bullet shattered the frame of the guest door. But the man was no longer there. He was standing in the door of the master bedroom. Bang! Another miss, somehow, even though the word “ point blank ” would now almost be accurate. The man was in Bill ’ s room now, just to Greg ’ s right. The part of Greg ’ s brain that had sent him up the stairs in the first place now told him to get back down. His left hand propelled him unsteadily to his feet, sending him lurching toward the stairs. Not fast enough. As he passed the door to the master bedroom, he felt a powerful grip on the back of his neck, and then he was laying sprawled on the floor at the foot of his bed. 
 
 Greg ’ s head was laying a pool of warm goo. * “ Egg yolk. ” * Greg thought, * “ Just like Humpty Dumpty. ” * His vision was blurry, but not enough to obscure the swaggering way the man in black was walking toward him. Greg ’ s right hand twitched, trying to pull the trigger on a gun he had dropped, somewhere. Even that movement sent a wash of sickness through his body. Ear buzzing, arm burning, head cracked, Greg lay back and stared at the ceiling. 
 
 “ You know. ” The man in black said as he sat on the corner of Greg ’ s bed. The bullet wound in his shoulder was oozing darkly, but it didn ’ t seem to bother him. “ If my progenitors had known how easy things would be for us now, I don ’ t think so many of them would have given up. Iron is passé. No jars of beads to throw in my path. Hardly a crucifix to be found. ” 
 
 The man in black knelt beside Greg, gripping his shoulder and peering into his eyes. The hand on his shoulder moved softly, caressing the muscles under Greg ’ s polo. 
 
 “ And the stories you tell of us. ” The man purred. “ Your women believe I love them, even as I take them. ” 
 
 The man in black bent over Greg, maintaining eye contact until his gaze was obscured by Greg ’ s chin. Greg felt his soft, cold lips on his throat. A gentle kiss, then a small twinge, that was all. The feeling of his blood being drawn was no more than a thread being pulled. 
 
 As Greg slowly unraveled, he was slightly surprised to see his life flashing before him: small blue eyes peering out from under puffy lids; a rush of pride as a tiny hand grabbed for a toy; a small blonde head disappearing through big metal doors in a sea of other tiny bobbing figures; a grass-stained, muddy high five. 
 
 The man in black raised his head, his mouth was red and warm now, stretched into a gasp of ecstasy. The man sat heavily back on his haunches, resting his back on the corner of Greg ’ s bed. He looked at Greg from hooded eyes. 
 
 There was no thought of moving, now. The pain in his face, his shoulder, his hand, his head – those were just memories. Just bad memories that sleep would erase. 
 
 “ The first year of my new existence, ” The man in black mused, “ I only ate five times. ” 
 
 Below them, the door slammed shut. Greg was dimly aware of tires crunching in the driveway, and the thump of shoes being kicked off. 
 
 “ Tonight, I ’ ll eat twice. ” 
 
 Edit: added italics, changed a few words.
