Innocent Violence

by Jeff Alan

Michael is twelve years old and big for his age -- so big that some might call him a monster. His clothes are flecked with blood; it is not his blood. He feels no sympathy for his victims when sudden terror contorts their faces, no remorse when he leaves them twitching on the ground. He loves the brutality of it, the hot spike of adrenaline, the sense of getting away with something that is unacceptable and utterly incomprehensible in everyday life. Besides, he sees this kind of violence on television all the time, so how could it be wrong? Later, when the savagery is over and his mom asks, "Who wants ice cream?" he and his mates shout, "Me!" as they sit bumping shoulder pads in the back of the minivan.


Jeff Alan is a self-described gypsy, having lived in more states than he can count on one hand. He presently resides in a small, quiet town in North Carolina. His work has appeared in MicroHorror, and will soon appear in Flashshot. Visit bonescribble, his online home.