7It was a Sunday night. Sometime around midnight, I think, but I can't know for sure. My watch battery was still dead.
The autumn weather was beginning to cool down, getting ready for the fast-approaching winter. There were clouds accumulating in the sky, and I dreaded the upcoming bad weather.
I was walking across the bridge; the same bridge where I had met the Mothman, some time ago. The same bridge where everything started.
I stopped, halfway across, and leaned on the railing, looking down at the waters below, then up to the sky, watching the stars.
I wondered which star Smith hailed from.
I wondered if he had some family there, now in mourning.
Some family he left behind to save ME, of all people.
I sighed, and turned to leave. But a familiar sight stopped me.
Red.
"M… Mothman?"
The Mothman walked out of the shadows, holding his hands behind his back, a downcast look upon his face. He walked up to me and wiggled his antennae, an action I interpreted as a hello.
"Um… Hi," I said. He sat down against the railing, taking his hands out from behind him. I noticed now that he was holding a small disposable camera. "What's that…?"
The Mothman held the camera out, giving it to me. I took it, and looked it over. It had already been used, and only had a few shots left on it. I figured he was probably just trying to make up for the expensive camera he had broken before. "Thanks, man, but…"
The Mothman held his hands to his face, imitating someone taking a picture. He then pointed to me, then to himself, and nodded.
I thought about this. "You… want me to take your picture?"
He nodded.
I looked at the camera. "You sure? I thought you were afraid of cameras…"
The Mothman shrugged.
I put the camera to my face and snapped a picture. He then stood up; I took a picture of him like that. He unfolded his wings, and hovered in the air some ways away. I took a picture of that.
He came back and landed next to me. He took the camera—there was one picture left on it. He stood next to me, putting his free arm around my shoulder and smiled, holding the camera up to take a picture. I smiled too, and he snapped a picture of the two of us.
He then gave the camera back.
I looked at the camera, then back at him. "… You want me to publish these?"
He nodded.
"Aren't you afraid of people coming after you?"
He pointed to himself questioningly, then laughed silently. He found the idea of anyone catching him absurd.
I smiled weakly. "Well… you just be careful, okay?"
He nodded, then sat back down against the railing. I sat down next to him.
"So… how've you been?" I asked.
He shrugged.
"How's Smith?"
The Mothman looked away, downcast.
"So he's really dead."
He nodded.
I sighed. "Look, Mothman, I… I'm sorry. This is all my fault, and I'm so sorry…"
The Mothman put his hand on my shoulder comfortingly. I looked up at him, and looked into his big, red eyes.
All of a sudden he hugged me, crying. Now I was the one doing the comforting, patting him on the back and telling him it'll be alright.
Eventually he stopped crying, but for the longest time, he wouldn't let go of me. I didn't mind too much, I never really minded the Mothman's company as much as I minded the others, like the Alien or that damn Succubus. The Mothman, rather, seemed almost like a pet to me. Like a dog or a cat or a ferret or something cute and cuddly like that.
Finally he let go, wiping what tears were left on his face. He forced a smile, then got up and hovered off the ground, about to leave.
"Wait.," Said I, "Am I ever gonna see any of you guys again?"
Mothman shrugged.
I frowned. "Don't go thinking you can go moving in with me again though. It ain't happening."
Mothman laughed, and shook his head.
"Good," I waved goodbye, "Well then, I guess I'll see you around."
Mothman waved, and then flew off.
That camera had more than just the Mothman pictures on it. Seems Mothman had been taking pictures all the time he had been at my place—the thing was full of pictures of the Alien, the fairies, the ghost… no succubus, of course—she can't be photographed.
But there were a lot of pictures of Smith.
Even pictures of him away from my apartment, with aliens I didn't know. Some of them looked to be fellow Men in Black, others just random aliens. One of them was a girl alien, hugging Smith.
I kept some of the pictures to myself, the ones that seemed too personal to publish (like the one of me and the Mothman, and some of the Smith ones), and gave the rest to various paranormal magazines and journals.
I made a lot of money.
It's been some years now.
My name is now widely recognized in not only the paranormal field, but in more traditional fields of science.
After all, I'm the guy who proved aliens exist. I'm the most famous paranormal investigator in the world now!
I ran into Mothman a few times afterward, but he never stuck around long. The Alien I caught sneaking into my house once. I gave him to Gale, I think he's keeping that thing as a pet now. Fairies are still a problem, I've had to almost cover my house with flower wreaths to keep them away. I've met a few MIB since, including some of the more infamous ones, like Indrid Cold. I haven't seen many lately though, there aren't all that many left on this planet now that humans aren't so ignorant of aliens.
I never ran into another malevolent G-man again. I heard rumors that that agency of the government had gotten shut down, due to some combination of budget cuts and inability to keep aliens a secret anymore, but I haven't been able to prove or disprove those rumors, so that matter still lies up in the air.
A publisher came to me a few days ago.
Asked me if I wanted to write for them an autobiography of all the crazy stuff I've done.
I figure I'll do it. Why not.
I came up with a great starting line:
"Hello, I'm Xenophon Reden, I'm 26 years old and completely bankrupt."
The End