There's an old legend surrounding home. It is said that a demon roams the hills of the county. Sounds crazy, right? But do I believe it? Yes. I do. Not much is known about the demon. One says that it has a dark purple hue. Another states that it has horns taller than the biggest man. A third saying how it survives. The old man at the gas station, the third man, also claiming to be the only man in my town to have seen the thing, and lived.

    "It's tall and dark-purple colored," he told me one day after I asked him about it. He had dragged me deep into his garage and told me to never speak of what he was going to tell me about it. "Don't tell no one." I nod in response. "Tall and purple, nearly 8 feet. It's damn near impossible to kill, and do you know why?" I shake my head. "It moves from one owner to the next, each unlucky son-of-a-gun adding parts, and fixing it. It just keeps going." He looks around to see if there's anyone nearby. "Remember, don't tell nobody I told you this, got it?" I nod. "Good, now you best get home. They say if you talk about it, it'll show up and get ya."

    I lie awake thinking about it that night. What would happen if I see it? Would it get me? How can I protect myself? What would I do? The next day, I go to school, only to see the purple truck in the parking lot. I hurry inside, staying out of sight. The kid who owns it, I know him. Poor bastard. It's there for the next few days. Then the guy says he had gotten rid of it. Where'd it go now? I walk home that day, thinking about where it could have possibly gone to now. I wait for my Dad to get home, only to see the purple truck pull up my driveway. Dad is going on about how proud he is to have bought this truck for a cheap price. I stare in dismay and horror at the purple truck in the driveway. 

    "I know you've always wanted a car, Son," Dad says. "Now you've got one." He puts the keys in my hand. The keys to the demon.