Authors: Preston Norton
16
The Power of the Slayer
“You want me to WHAT?”
It was the middle of the night, in the middle of a dark and unfriendly forest clearing. Before I let Dante transport us here, I had him take me to my front porch, so I could officially “come home” and let my parents believe that I was in for the night.
Ha. What a joke.
Now here I was, enjoying the moonlight and that bitch, Mother Nature, after I had just annihilated a wolf the size of a rhinoceros. The thought of my best friend being a witch still squirmed in the back of my mind. I still had no clue why Dante had even dragged me out here. But no, that just wasn’t weird enough for him.
“I want you to take off your clothes,” he repeated, and then added awkwardly, “Please.”
I just stared at him. Like, what the hell do you say to that? I wanted to slap him, but with my newfound anger management problems, who’s to say I wouldn’t just go all out and slay the bastard? I kept my arms rigid, wrists pinned to my side, and just tried not to detonate.
“Is there a name for what’s wrong with your brain?” I asked.
“Would it sound weird if I said that you’ll thank me? Actually, you know what? Don’t answer that.”
I just folded my arms and glared ocular death out of my soulless ginger eyeballs.
“Hey, I’m just trying to help,” said Dante. And then he threw his hands up in exasperation. “You know what? Forget it. Keep your clothes on.”
“What’s this about? Really.”
“It’s simple,” said Dante, eager to move on from his disastrous conversation starter. “Have you felt different at all since you killed Amon?”
“Different? How?”
“You tell me. Has anything felt…off?”
The answer was obvious
“Yeah. Yeah, I feel…angry. It’s weird. Like I’m not myself.”
“Okay, that’s good. Now I want you to focus on that anger.”
Was it even worth asking why?
Nope. Not even a little bit.
I sighed, too tired to argue. Closing my eyes, I channeled my thoughts, drawing upon my anger. Or something like that. Like, how does this meditation shit even work?
I didn’t even have to try.
The fire was already there, just waiting to be acknowledged. It flooded my consciousness. It was this damn, and it crumbled with a touch, and to hell if I thought I could tame the force on the other side. I was no longer aware of my surroundings…not even myself. All that existed was the tempest inside of me, spiraling, building pressure, threatening to burst.
I exploded.
At least that’s what it felt like. It was like a muscle spasm. But everywhere. And multiplied by a bajillion.
And then it was over. I fell to all fours, panting heavily. Despite the chill of the night, my body was suddenly burning. And then I glanced up at Dante who was grinning wildly.
Why did he look so small?
I gasped. The sound that escaped my throat was much heavier. I glanced down at my hands.
In their place were thick, reddish-brown paws, claws extended.
“WHAT THE HELL?” I screamed. At least I tried to scream. The sound that came out was more of a bark. My voice was deeper, gruffer… I wouldn’t go so far as to call it
entirely
masculine, but shit if it wasn’t monstrous and intimidating.
“You, Monica Binsfeld, are a werewolf,” said Dante. “Surprise!”
I could believe what I was hearing. I attempted to feel my face with my hands. In the place of my palm was a leathery padded paw on my thick snout. My tongue was enormous. I ran it across jagged teeth.
This wasn’t happening!
I pulled my bulky head away, glancing at my massive, awkwardly jointed hind legs. A think tail dangled behind. I found myself stupidly walking in a circle trying to examine the rest of my body. Surprisingly, movement was just as natural on all fours with these strange new joints.
“Am I stuck like this?” I asked. Even with my new voice, my hysterical tone was unmistakable.
Dante rolled his eyes. “Well, you wouldn’t be a werewolf then, now would you? Just a big, fat, talking wolf.”
“How do I change back?”
“You do the opposite of what changed you in the first place. If channeling your anger transforms you, then…?”
He left the question hanging. The solution was obvious. I took a deep breath through my monstrous mouth. Closed my eyes. Tried desperately to calm myself. Easier said than done when you’re suddenly a wolf the size of a Hummer.
But slowly, serenity came. I could feel my muscles warping, my bones contorting, my body shrinking. My red coat of fur withdrew, and the evening breeze returned.
It was colder than I remembered.
I glanced down at my very human,
very
naked body. I was wearing nothing but Zoey’s ridiculous pedicure.
I screamed, crouching in the tall grass with my arms wrapped around me. I didn’t even need a mirror to know that my cheeks were matching my hair.
Dante bent over and picked up a shredded piece of what used to be my panties. “Hey, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
***
My dreams that night consisted mostly of Amon.
Dream. Ha! It was a nightmare.
His shadowy wolf form chased me in circles all throughout Hexham Manor. Although in my dream’s version of the house, there were no doors, windows, or exits of any kind. I was trapped.
Suddenly, Amon was gone and I was standing halfway up the stairs. I turned to find my mom standing behind me. Her faces were gray and lifeless, her eyes empty.
“I’m sorry, Monica,” she said in a ghostly whisper.
Asmodeus and Lucifer’s large shadowy forms exploded through the walls, snatching her faster than my brain could even comprehend. I screamed after them, racing down the stairs to the front door which seemed to materialize in the wall, right before my eyes. An eerie blue light glowed through the cracks, but that did not deter me. I burst through the door.
Instead of bursting outside, I found myself inside Casey’s hospital room. It was immersed entirely in shadows except for several bright lights focused solely on him. He wasn’t moving. He didn’t even look alive. I took several uneasy steps toward his motionless form. Before long, I was standing directly over him. At that moment, he grabbed my arm with an unbreakable grip. His eyes were yellow and his mouth foamed.
I woke up, practically springing out of bed.
“Good morning, sunshine.”
It was Dante. He was lying comfortably on my ceiling with a “Screw you, gravity” smile.
It was a good thing he was up there. Otherwise I would have thrown something at him. But it was fine. I’d get my chance to kill him when we continued Demon Slaying 101.
Unfortunately, I still had appearances to keep. This involved the ritually epic Binsford Family Sunday Breakfast: French toast, eggs, bacon, hash browns, and mango juice.
I had to force feed myself.
“How was the party last night?” my mom asked.
“It was…wild,” I said through a fake smile.
We had church afterward, which was even more mind-numbing than usual after a night of Demon-slaying. The pastor reminded me of a posh TV news anchor with his flamboyant articulation, topped off by hair sculpted into a perfect part and an expensive-looking suit. Taking my lack of proper sleep into consideration, it should have come as no surprise to me as I started nodding off.
At least, until I heard the word, “Demon.”
I bolted up in a sleep-drunk daze, earning awkward glances from both of my parents. I ignored them with ease.
“Jesus asked this possessed man, ‘What is thy name?’” The pastor’s expression became sinister. “He replied, ‘My name is Legion: for we are many.’”
I sat upright in my seat, suddenly at full-attention.
“Legion’s reaction is interesting. These demons beseech Jesus, they
beg
of him, to not send them away. But rather to cast them into a nearby herd of swine.” The pastor recited: “And forthwith Jesus gave them leave. And the unclean spirits went out, and entered into the swine: and the herd ran violently down a steep place into the sea, they were about two thousand; and were choked in the sea.”
Jesus. That’s a lotta pigs.
“We can learn two things about the minions of Satan from this encounter: First, that these demons would rather possess the lowliest creature than to be forced back to the awful depths of hell where they belong. They relish possessing the bodies of mortals, especially ours, the human inhabitants of the earth. They
live
to steal that life from us. And second, we learn from the fate of the possessed pigs. They were violent. And they brought instant destruction to the herd. That is what these demons exist for. They exist to hurt us. They exist to destroy us.”
I swallowed hard.
What ever happened to those happy pastors who fed you bullshit you
wanted
to hear? Throughout the rest of the hellfire and damnation monologue, my thoughts were plagued by the legion of Demons in Villeneuve—Demons with names. Amon. Asmodeus. Lucifer. Mammon. Though I appreciated Dante keeping me informed, knowing their names made me slightly sick.
The church service ended (praise the Lord!), and we drove home. I dreaded the thought of school tomorrow. Especially since, according to Dante, I had earned myself a priority spot on Asmodeus death list.
I needed to clear my mind. Someway. Somehow. Otherwise I would most definitely go bonkers.
My first thought was to return to the hospital to visit Casey again. The questions I had for him were almost maddening. But then I remembered how well my last visit went.
Yeeeeeah
no.
Zoey was the next possibility.
Zoey…the witch.
Like, how long had she been in the witch scene? Associated with Mammon whose eerie voice at Hexham Manor still haunted me? Was she associated with the other Demons as well? I mean, that’s what witches do, right? Commune with Demons and Voldemort and shit? Sure, Amon had used her as bait for me, but that still wasn’t enough to dissuade my suspicions.
As we arrived home, I locked myself in my bedroom.
“How was church?”
Dante was standing behind me, propped against the wall. Apparently he had nowhere else better to be than my bedroom.
“I need to fight,” I grumbled. As I said it, I realized that our brawling had strangely become my only form of relaxation.
“That’s my little fireball,” said Dante.
We spent the remainder of the day clashing in the woods. Tomorrow at school was sure to be hell. And I sure as hell was going to come prepared.
17
The Bite
The sun was shining. Students were smiling and laughing as they passed by. Somewhere in the distance, a chorus of birds were chirping in musical harmony.
It was all bullshit. Villeneuve High School had never looked so dark and foreboding.
I hated that killing Amon had done nothing to make me feel better.
Dante stepped beside me and placed a surprisingly comforting hand on my shoulder. Now that he was visible and tangible to the world, I couldn’t help but notice a few passing girls eyeing him curiously. I glared.
Keep walking, bitches.
Wow, I really wasn’t myself. And what was up with…
this
? What was
this
anyway? Jealousy? Was I really feeling jealous? Over Dante?
I took one look at him. His oceanic eyes. It was obvious.
I
wanted
to be around him. Shit, I even felt happy
when I was with him. Well…as happy as circumstances allowed. When the hell did that happen?
“Just keep an eye out,” said Dante. He was looking straight ahead. “Asmodeus or one of the other Demons is likely to try and toy with you like Amon did. But as long as you stay in the crowds, they won’t harm you. They may be monsters and cold-blooded killers, but they’re civilized killers…er…to a degree. When it comes to revenge, they’re calculated. They won’t do anything that will blatantly disrupt the comfort of their lifestyle.”
The anger I had been feeling lately subsided in Dante’s presence. I normally would have relished this fact except that the lack of anger only gave me more room to fear. I don’t what sort of response Dante expected, but the one I gave certainly wasn’t Demon Slayer material.
“I feel sick.”
“You’ll be fine.”
And the he smiled this smile that was just…god. Why was he so damn attractive? Like, what happened to those ugly demons on TV with horns and pitchforks and butts for faces?
It was time for me to go to class. To cross the one barrier that divided Dante and me. But since my stomach was already twisted into the worst knot possible, I figured one last gut-wrenching act wouldn’t hurt.
Raising myself to my tip-toes, I kissed Dante on the cheek.
His skin was cool and refreshing against my lips, and his musky, masculine scent enveloped me. I breathed him in.
I didn’t even wait for a reaction. With that, I strolled confidently up the concrete stairs of the entrance. And when I did glance back, Dante’s hand was pressed to his cheek, his eyes wide and mouth slightly ajar.
I turned back around, smiling as I crossed the barrier.
That smile slowly vanished after my first several hours of class.
Nothing out of the ordinary happened. On the contrary, I’d never been so bored in my life. With a Demon epidemic on my hands, I could care less about the Pythagorean theorem or Don Quixote or electronegativity. Even the buzz for today’s pep rally didn’t pique my attention.
Instead of note-taking, I scribbled a dark circle inside my notebook—an endless abyss. Eventually my pen ripped through the paper.
Lunch couldn’t come soon enough.
Zoey was nowhere in sight. I’m not sure if I was worried or relieved. So instead, I found a seat by Kelly and Levi. As usually, Kelly was actively involved in a one-sided conversation. Levi nodded half-heartedly as he examined the functions on his camera.
“Hey, guys,” I said
“Monica!” said Levi with this look that ‘Thank god, please save me, she won’t stop.’
In the end, we all needed something to balance out Kelly’s…Kellyness.
“Oh my gosh, Monica,” said Kelly. “You were there, right? I know you were there.”
I blinked. “I was…where? What?”
Kelly rolled her buggy eyes. “Hexham Manor, duh. You were inside when those walls exploded. Right?”
Levi shrugged, disinterested. “I’m sure it was just those jocks’ stupid idea of a joke.”
It was strange seeing the ridiculously peppy Levi as reclusive as he was now.
“Uh…Dante and I actually left early,” I lied.
Levi seemed to perk up at the mention of Dante, and Kelly shot me an unconvinced glance.
“New boyfriend,” I said, forcing a smile. “You know how that goes.”
Kelly seemed to relax, as if this was the first logical she’d heard all day. The conversation was interrupted—thank god—by a figure in a letterman jacket and wearing a cross around his neck.
Eli Jacobson.
Again.
Like, I hardly ever crossed paths with this guy. Why was I now running into him on a regular basis? Whatever the case, he didn’t look happy—even though God was good and praise the Lord and shit.
“Hey, Monica,” he said. His worried gaze was locked on me.
“Hey…Eli,” I said. “Is everything okay?”
“Uh…yeah, yeah…fine,” he said in that bullshit everything-is-not-fine sort of way. “About last night… When you went inside Hexham Manor, you didn’t happen to see my friends, did you?”
The disturbing image slapped me in the face—two teens in letterman jackets smashed into the ceiling.
“Nuh-uh,” I said. My bullshitting was much more proficient. “You haven’t seen them?”
Eli shook his head. “No. I tried calling them too. Nothing. It’s like they just disappeared.”
The conversation crumbled to silence. My gut twisted. Not that there was anything I could say or do. They were dead. What good would it do to tell him that? Let alone that a Demon killed them. Nope, I would definitely let the police take care of that.
Couldn’t wait to read the cause of death on those obituaries.
Two teenagers were brutally ceilinged to death.
Damn ceilings these days.
Instead of returning to his usual spot at the jock table, Eli took a seat at ours. He set his food tray down but just stared at it. My guilt multiplied. No matter what horrible thing he suspected happened to his friends, I knew the truth was infinitely more fucked.
“So…while we’re on the subject of weird things…” said Levi. “Has anyone noticed the security cameras?”
“Security cameras?” I said.
“What are you talking about?” asked Kelly.
“There’re four of them here,” said Levi. He proceeded to point them out, bolted in the corners of the cafeteria ceiling. They were the circular kind—small cameras inside tinted glass bulbs, so no one could see them as they rotated.
“Are you sure they’re new?” asked Eli. “I mean…maybe they’ve been there for a while, and we’ve never noticed them.”
Uh-oh. Eli was questioning Levi in a matter of cameradom. Shit’s real now.
“No,” said Levi. “They’re new. I’m positive. They were probably installed over the weekend.”
We all knew better to question him. So instead we all shared that same wondering look that begged to ask the very same question.
I was the first to verbalize it. “Why would they install security cameras in the cafeteria?”
“Oh, these aren’t the only ones,” said Levi. “They’re everywhere. Hallways, stairwells…even classrooms. Heck, I’ve seen them in every one of my classes so far.”
“This is really weird,” said Kelly. Everyone’s silence seemed to resound in agreement.
If only they knew.
“So are y’all excited for the pep rally?” said Eli—mostly as a means of changing the subject. I was all in favor of that.
For the remainder of lunch, our conversation veered to this jovial and slightly pointless topic. Lunch ended, and it was back to class. I returned to scribbling a new circular black abyss in the pages of my notebook. It seemed to be the most effective way to pass the time.
Finally, the pep rally rolled around.
Students were herded into the spacious gymnasium. God, I loved being grouped together with the human cattle. Everyone else was talking and laughing excitedly as we funneled into the doors and filled the bleachers. Familiar faces were everywhere. Levi was fidgeting with his bulky camera, ready and eager to resume his school photography duties. Eli was crowded with his football buddies in nearly full uniform on the far side of the stadium. Lillith Hartley was drawing a sizeable amount of attention as she and her cheerleading minions geared up for their routine.
“She’s such a brat.”
I nearly jumped at the sudden voice. Lillith’s voice. I turned to find an identical face with long blonde hair.
“Oh, Lucy,” I said, gasping. There was no hiding the fact that she had scared me shitless and a half.
“Monica,” said the twin courteously. “We missed you last Friday.”
She smiled this fake smile that basically represented her as a human being. Not that Lucy Hartley had anything against me personally. She was just better than the rest of those inferior insects known as the human race.
“Last…Friday?”
“Student Council,” said Lucy. Her smile thingy flinching only slightly.
Duh, Monica. Our Student Council meeting was the only place I ever really talked to Lucy. What the hell else would she be talking about?
“Yeah…sorry,” I said. “I had some…
stuff
come up.”
No sooner did I say it, I realized it was the honest-to-shit truth. I had every reason in the universe not to come to that degradation of the human soul she called Student Council Meeting. I wouldn’t have even come to school if Dante hadn’t pressured me into it.
“My brother’s in the hospital,” I said.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” said Lucy. Though I wouldn’t exactly say it was insincere, she certainly had a very robotic way of expressing her condolence. “I hope you can make it to our next meeting. We need smart girls like you to balance out my sister.”
I think her smile was actually real this time. She turned and left.
Most of the crowds had already situated themselves in the bleachers. I frantically began searching for a place, not really caring if I sat by myself. For better or worse, I was spotted by Kelly who waved wildly for me to come. Oh, goody. I climbed the aisle to sit with her. Fortunately she had already accumulated a small gossipy group of friends to her left whom she proceeded to chat with. I effortlessly zoned out of their conversation.
Not even a full minute later, the pep rally commenced. Principal Barbara Marion took the microphone. The woman was both official and simultaneously scary. The kind of tight-lipped, feminist supremacy psycho-militant who threatened to take over the world and make the inferior male populace their sex slaves because what the hell else were they good for?
She didn’t say that. It just emanated from her female power suit.
Her verbal authority was present, even with fluffy encouraging words about school spirit and the upcoming football game. In my distracted state, however, none of her words sank in. She finally relinquished the microphone.
Red and black skirts and tops filled the floor as Lillith and the cheer toadies took over. Their cheers and acrobatic stunts were pretty typical, and I lost interest instantly. My gaze wandered off to some invisible point in space.
That’s when I noticed it. A speck in my peripheral vision. I turned to find a lone figure in black standing in the gym entrance.
It was Bill.
He had obviously just arrived. My initial conclusion was that he had skipped class as usual to smoke under the bleachers, and he had just now realized that a pep rally was going on. But instead of finding a seat in the bleachers, of which there were plenty, he just stood there.
And then he started walking out into the open gymnasium.
My jaw dropped. What was he thinking? The thought quickly occurred that maybe he was just baked. He looked like he was about one joint away from being lobotomized.
It was a long moment before the majority of the student body noticed him as well. Whispers and snickers ushered throughout the crowds. The cheerleaders faltered their routine as he approached them. Lillith looked especially irked.
Several faculty heads perked up. A few of them stood up simultaneously, but one male teacher was already moving to intercept Bill. My geometry teacher, Mr. Garrison, glared behind his those dual Hubble Space Telescopes he wore for glasses.
“What do you think you’re doing?” said Mr. Garrison.
Bill halted. He stared expressionless at Mr. Garrison. Then he took another step forward.
“I’m warning you.” Mr. Garrison grabbed Bill by the shoulder. “Take a seat. Now.”
Bill glanced down at the teacher’s arm. Though I observed from a distance, I saw perfectly what happened next.
Bill blinked. When he opened his eyes, his eyes were white. No pupils. No irises. Just milky white, edged in red, bloodshot lines.
And then he gripped Mr. Garrison by the wrist and bit into his forearm.