A Monster's Death

by Raven Steele

  "We rounded up the men like you asked. They're in the back room." Michael nodded his head toward the rear of the building and took a long drink of a blue liquid from a frosted glass.

  "What about my men that were taken in earlier?" Victor asked.

  Michael wiped his mouth with the back of his hairy hand. "Don't you worry about them. They should be out within twenty-four hours."

  "Good man. I knew I could count on you." Victor turned around and said to the ladies, his voice sharp, "What are you doing just sitting there? Take care of my boys."

  They jumped to attention and hurried toward us, all smiles. A woman with long dark hair sauntered over to me. She wore a short black skirt and a colorful halter-top. She grabbed my arm and guided me to a chair.

  "Have a seat, baby," she ordered as she squeezed my arm.

  "I prefer to stand."

  She trailed her fingers up my chest. "It will be a lot better if you're sitting down."

  She shoved me backwards, taking me by surprise. I lost my balance and fell into the chair.

  "My name is Bliss," she purred. She lifted her skirt just enough so she could straddle me comfortably. She ran her fingers through my hair. "You're new here. I like new guys. They always get special treatment."

  I jerked my head away, disgusted. "Leave me alone."

  I was trying to hear what Michael and Victor were saying as they were suddenly speaking in hushed tones.

  "You must be having a rough day," Bliss pouted. "I can fix that."

  She lowered her head to my neck and ran her tongue across my skin. Chills exploded across my flesh, but I tried not to focus on it. I pushed her head away.

  The next fifteen minutes were a different kind of torture than I was used to. Bliss continued to grope me, touching me and kissing me in all kinds of places, but I responded just enough not to draw the other’s attention.

  Several of the other men were engaged in full-on make-out sessions in front of everyone. Not my style and never would be. Victor glanced my direction a few times. I tried not to show my disdain for the girl grinding against me, but it was difficult. The only hands I wanted on me were Emma's.

  The Physician was there, too, but he sat alone at the bar talking to no one. He didn't even have a drink, but he did chew on a long stick of jerky the bartender handed him. Something was off with him, and one of these days I needed to figure out what.

  I heard what I could of Victor and Michael's conversation over the sounds of Bliss talking in my ear. Victor was asking him about the vigilante and what they knew of him. Of course, Michael knew nothing, but tried to placate Victor with empty promises of finding him. Victor also mentioned the destroyed blood bags. Michael promised twice as much by the next day. There was also some talk about the security footage in the building. Michael had watched the film, but had no leads. He handed a disc to Victor. If I got the chance, I wanted to watch it. I don't think anything on there would give away my identity, but I'd like to be sure.

  Victor set down his glass and turned around. "It's time."

  I jumped to my feet, making Bliss stumble from my lap. I was the first one behind him, anxious to get out of this dark place, but the others were slower to detangle from their partners. The Physician came up behind me as quiet as a wolf in the forest. I didn't hear him, but I sure felt his presence.

  The police stayed at the bar while we disappeared into the same room where I had destroyed the blood and drugs. A floodlight had been set up, providing light to the once dark room. The walls were painted in blood, making it look like someone had taken a chainsaw to a dozen bodies. One of Victor's men turned and threw up at the sight of it.

  In the center of the room, three men had been gagged and tied to chairs. Victor stepped over a broken table and stood in front of a guy that looked about my age with blond hair and a tattoo of a small dagger on his left cheek.

  "I'm disappointed in you, Clark," Victor said and ripped off thick tape covering Clark's lips. Dark material of some kind had been stuffed into his mouth. Victor reached up and yanked out a sock.

  By the size of Clark, he was probably a bouncer. He spoke quickly. "I'm so sorry Victor. I was at the front doors managing the line. I didn't see anyone sneak around back, but I swear to you, it will never happen again."

  "So you didn't see anyone unusual?" Victor asked.

  "No way, man. Like I said, I was out front. There was a long line, and I was real careful to screen anyone who came in."

  Victor punched him hard in the face. His head snapped backwards. "I don't give a shit about the front of the club. The Crow snuck in the back. If you can't give me anything useful, shut the hell up."

  Clark's head lobbed forward, and his eyes swam like he was struggling to stay conscious.

  Victor stepped to the next man, a redhead with sweat beading his forehead and blue eyes wide and alert. He looked familiar to me.

  Every muscle in my body flexed. Part of me was glad these losers were finally getting what was coming to them, but the other half of me squirmed at the sheer cruelty of it. It was one thing to fight a man who could fight back, but something else entirely when you torture someone helpless.

  Victor ripped the tape from his face and removed another sock. "Where were you when I was robbed, Fred?"

  Fred looked from me to him and stuttered, "I was talking to Tony about the sound system. It was sounding kinda scratchy, and I thought we should fix it. When I came back here, the fight was already over."

  "Interesting. So you didn't hear anything? There must've been a dozen shots fired."

  While Victor spoke, the Physician walked around the room eyeing everything as if he was taking mental snapshots of the scene. He fidgeted with a ring on his right hand, twisting it around his finger.

  "Like I said, the speakers were acting funny. They were louder than usual."

  Victor turned to me, his eyes boring into mine. "Your turn. He's lying. I want you to teach this guy a lesson. And if you don't? Your girl Emma will receive a special lesson from yours truly."

  28

  I resisted the urge to punch Victor for threatening Emma again and approached Fred, trying to decide how best to question him.

  "Where is your normal post on any given night?" I asked.

  "I manage the northeast area. I make sure no fights break out."

  "Northeast? That's just outside this door, and you're telling me you didn't hear any gunshots?"

  He shook his head. "I swear to you."

  Fred was definitely lying. I remembered seeing him in the room where I had rescued one of the teenage girls. The bastard had fled before I could stop him. Helping the girl had been my only priority at the time. Whatever doubts I’d been feeling earlier, disappeared quickly.

  I pulled back my fist and smashed his nose. Blood spurted and ran down his lips and over his chin. He moaned.

  "That was for not being where you should've been," I growled. "This next one is for lying about the speakers."

  I punched him again, nearly breaking his cheekbone. I felt no guilt for hurting him. I had seen first hand what he was capable of.

  "Did you feel that?" I asked him. "I almost shattered your cheekbone. The next time you lie to me, I will break something. So tell me again, where were you when the Crow broke in?"

  His eyes darted about the room as if looking for someone who might save him. He would not find compassion here.

  "I was talking to the DJ," Fred lied again. "I swear it!"

  Without blinking, I stomped hard on his foot. The crunch of bones breaking filled the room. He hollered in pain. Next to him, Clark began to cry while several of Victor's men cringed and turned away.

  "I will not be lied to again!" I shouted, my voice thunderous. "Where were you?"

  "I was in the gray room!" he cried.

  "And what were you doing there?"

  "I was just messing around. I'm sorry. I'm sorry!" he sobbed.

  I glanced back at Victor, breathing hard.

  He nodded at me in appro
val and took my place in front of Fred. The Physician came to stand next to him.

  "If you work for me," Victor said, "You do exactly as I say. You knew the rules. Maybe if you had been where you are supposed to be, Crow wouldn't have stolen from me and gotten my men arrested. You've cost me valuable time and money."

  Victor glanced at the Physician and nodded. The Physician opened his hand and slowly moved the pointed end of the ring towards Fred's neck.

  He shook his head back-and-forth. "No, no, no. I told you what you wanted to know. I apologized!"

  "You're a plague on this earth," the Physician said. He fisted his left hand in Fred’s hair to hold him still while his ring came closer and closer until it finally pierced his skin.

  I made a motion to stop the Physician but managed to catch myself just in time. Fred had made his bed. He may not deserve a death like this, but he certainly wasn’t worth blowing my cover to save him.

  Fred choked on a sob, but within ten seconds he stopped moving altogether. He even stopped breathing. Victor held Fred's head up and stared into his open eyes. "This is the last minute of your life. Think of me when you're in Hell. And while you're at it, tell the Devil to get ready, because one day I'm coming there, and I'm not about to share his throne. Hell is mine."

  Fred's face began to change colors. Panic filled his eyes as he slowly suffocated to death. Had I not had V in me, I would've shared the same fate.

  I glanced away before Fred's heart ticked its last beat, but Victor watched it all until it was finished.

  Victor addressed the other two men. "This is what happens when you don't do as I expect. Do you both understand?"

  They frantically nodded.

  "Good," Victor said and turned to the Physician. "Get rid of this body."

  The Physician visibly shivered as if excited. He rubbed his tongue across his canine tooth.

  Victor turned to me. "You did better than I expected. In fact, I'd say you enjoyed that."

  "I admit, it was satisfying." That was the first true thing I had said to him all night.

  Victor wrapped his arm around my shoulder and led me out of the room. "Let's have a drink. It's time I got to know you."

  For the next several hours, Victor and I sat at the bar. At first I avoided drinking, but when he eyed me funny at my refusals, I gave in to avoid suspicion. But I drank slowly.

  As the night wore on, I became more relaxed. I even chuckled at some of Victor's stories. When prompted, I made up my own tales of dorm room pranks, garnering the laughter of several people around us. I hated pretending to be someone else.

  Despite having several drinks in me, I remained alert. Victor was not to be trusted. Ever. I didn't care if he had helped my mother. He had poisoned the city with his drugs and killed numerous people, among many other crimes. And he had threatened the life of the woman I loved.

  As if sensing my thoughts, a dark shadow crossed over his face. "Have you ever been in love, Adam?"

  "I don't think so," I lied.

  He swirled the liquid in his glass, staring into its foam. "I was once. She was a beautiful woman. The kind that makes the whole world brighter. I know that sounds stupid, but I swear to you, everything was more vivid. Even the buildings in Pigtown didn't seem so dirty. I could have loved this woman forever."

  I flexed my muscles, wondering if he was talking about my mother. "What happened to her?"

  "She was murdered. I was on my way to save her, and she was killed by someone I considered a friend." He looked at me, his eyes hooded. "After that, the illusion was destroyed, and I saw the world as it really was. Pigtown wasn't a nice place. It was filthy and dirty and gross. The people around me were, too, myself included. I saw them for who they really were. I guess you could say I became a realist the day she died."

  His hands balled into fists. His right one held a slight tremor. Most people wouldn't have noticed, but I saw the distinct twitching of someone under a lot of emotional turmoil.

  "You could find love again," I offered.

  "Oh, I've loved plenty of women, but no one has or ever will own my heart the way she did."

  I stared down into my almost empty glass, not knowing what to say. Here I was having a drink with the one man I'd wanted to kill my whole life, and I almost felt sorry for him. How screwed up was that?

  We talked a little more. Victor asked a bunch of questions about myself, but I kept to Adam's narrative as much as possible.

  "What are your thoughts about this vigilante?" he asked, changing the conversation suddenly.

  I leaned over on the bar clasping my hands together. "I think the guy is nuts. It's just a matter of time before he's killed."

  "I couldn't agree with you more." He leaned over on the bar with me. "But I'm wondering why he hasn't been killed yet. It's not like my guys are untrained. He somehow even managed to survive the Physician’s special touch. No one survives that unless he wants them to. How do you think he did that?"

  I held back from swallowing the lump in my throat and shrugged. "There must be something different about him. Maybe he's ex-army, or maybe he's an inside guy who knows everything about your dealings, including a fix to whatever your Doc is giving out. Have you screened all your men recently?"

  "I thought about that, but even with special training, he shouldn't have won against five men with guns. There's something wrong with that picture, and I want to find out what."

  "Good luck with that. I've heard nobody knows who he is."

  A slow smile spread across Victor's face. "Ah, but we do know a guy who knows this imposter Crow fellow."

  This time I had to swallow. "Oh, yeah? Who's that?"

  He finished off his drink and set the glass back down on the bar. "Some punk kid we caught handing out money to the poor. The same money the Crow had stolen from me."

  "But how do you know he knows the Crow? Maybe this kid stole it from the vigilante?"

  "We were in the process of asking him just that, when the Crow broke in to the Devil's Playground and busted him out. So now we know for sure they are working together. We've searched everywhere for the kid, but no one knows where he went. Him and his bedridden sister are just gone."

  I swallowed the last of the clear liquid in my glass. "How does a guy like that just disappear? And you say he has a sick sister? Maybe the Crow killed them because they knew too much."

  Victor laughed. "Not that pussy. The Crow doesn't kill. That's one of the few things I've learned about him. A weak spot I plan to exploit."

  He stared me in the eyes a few tense seconds. I resisted the urge to look away.

  "I want you to find this punk," he said. "His name is Oz Lewis. I've had my guys watching the bus station and anywhere else he might escape to, but I'm convinced he's still in the city."

  "I may be able to crunch a few bones, but I'm no detective."

  "I'm not asking. I want him found." He motioned to the back room. "You've seen what happens when I'm disappointed. Don't let me down. Oh, and Adam? You have forty-eight hours."

  29

  I hurried toward Ironwood, circling back to where I had dropped the diary. I still couldn't believe Victor had asked me to find Oz. I better figure out something and quick, because there was no way I was going to hand him over. But if I didn't, Victor could hurt Emma. That left me with only one option: take care of Victor once and for all. No more waiting.

  It was almost three in the morning. The night's storm clouds had dropped lower, and its murky gray hovered between the tops of the city's tall buildings. This trapped warm moisture in the air and it clung stubbornly to my skin.

  This night had been one of the strangest of my life. I was still in shock from spending the last several hours in a casual setting with my enemy. The one thing I never wanted was to understand Victor, but after reading my mother's diary and seeing his heartache spill all over the table, I actually felt a little sorry for him. I could only imagine what would become of me if I lost Emma. Would I become cruel and bitter too?

&
nbsp; Dropping into the underground entrance, I picked up the journal, thinking of Victor's feelings toward my mother. Had she returned them? Her words didn't give one indication or another. She only expressed love for my father.

  I jogged the rest of the way to Ironwood to burn off any remaining energy, but slowed when I reached the boardwalk. When I heard Oz laughing, I stopped outside my house and looked through the window. He was sitting at my table with his sister playing cards.

  Someone else was there. A woman. She turned her head slightly, and I recognized Kristen.

  What was she doing here so late? It had been a few years at least since she'd come to Ironwood. I crossed the old road and stepped up to my front porch. The sound of my footsteps drew their attention.

  Oz came to his feet. "You’re back."

  "You look like you've been run over by a dump truck," Amy said.

  Kristen smiled slightly. "Hi."

  "What are you doing here?" I asked her. "And why are you all up so late?"

  "I wanted to see if you were okay," Kristen answered.

  "What she said," Oz added. "We expected you hours ago."

  "We were worried," Amy said. Her big eyes wide, eyebrows lifted.

  I stared at each of them, warmth filling my chest. This is what Victor didn't have. People who truly cared about him.

  "I'm fine, but I've been busy." I looked at Oz. "Victor's still looking for you. In fact, he put me in charge of bringing you back, or else..."

  "Or else what?" Amy asked, looking from Oz to me.

  "We need to talk." Kristen pushed away from the table and stood. She walked in front of me and rested her palm on my arm. "I'm sure you have questions."

  "What are we going to do?" Oz asked, his brows drawn together in frustration. "We can't hide down here forever."

  "We'll think of something. I'll be right back."