There was a knock at his door.
Rex hated knocking. He hated people. He missed his dog, she was all he had left in the world. That and booze. He lived for booze. In fact, he was quite drunk and couldn’t recall what you were supposed to do when someon knocked on his door. The problem sorted itself out when the door opened.
He let himself in. Rex tried to remember where he knew the guy from, where he had seen him before. In fact, it was as if Rex had alway known him. However, even in his alcohol indused haze, he wondered how that could be.
“Thank you for letting me stay here, Rex.” The voice was a hiss of a whisper that hurt Rex’s ears. “And for giving me you spare key. I’ve never been treated kinder.”
“Don’t mention it.” Rex tried to blink the guy into focus. Red had forgotten his name. “You’d do the same for me.”
“And you don’t want to be alone.”
“I don’t want to be alone.” Rex said, agreeing. “I miss my dog. I miss Roswell.”
“I know you do. You’ll see her soon.”
“In heaven. All dogs go to heaven, you know. I just wish I knew who took her. I miss her so much.”
“You’ll be seeing her soon.” He said. “That’s a promise.”
“That’s nice.” Rex said, drifting already. “You want something to eat? I have cheezies.”
“No, Rex. Don’t trouble yourself. All the Players are here now. They are all that I need.”
“Okay.” Rex said. He let sleep take him. Before he passed out, he looked at the man again and all he saw were a pair of red, glowing eyes. “Night.”
“Sleep tight, Red.” He said, his voice like a caress. “Don’t let the bed bugs bite.”
End of Act One
69B 