Max Helsing and the Beast of Bone Creek

by Curtis Jobling

  “They all promise that,” muttered Max, searching in vain for a way out of the fix, still mindful of the Taser. He glanced up. The one weapon that might prove useful was the saw, and that was a good ten feet above his head, balanced against the wall at his back. How to reach it . . .

  There, by his right foot; one of the chopped hunks of wood. Max slowly began to crouch, extending his hand down his leg, straining his fingers to reach the block.

  “Hands where I can see them!” the young woman hissed, causing Max to snap to attention, arms in the air like those of a puppet on a string. She glanced toward the boarded-up windows, Taser still trained on the boy. The light between the planks was pale blue, the sun’s warm rays replaced by those of a chill moon. Her voice was a whisper.

  “He rises.”

  Max’s eyes were fixed upon the earth, expecting it to crumble and part as the creature rose from its pit. Instead, a shower of descending dust caused him to sneeze. The student raised the flashlight skyward, settling its focus upon the building’s resident.

  The figure hung upside down from one of the loftiest beams in the mill. Its hairless head was opalescent, pulsating as the flashlight’s beam caressed it. Even from a distance, Max spied the twitching blue veins that carried corrupted blood through the monster’s foul flesh. Its arms, originally folded about its torso in a frigid embrace, slowly extended from either side of its body, fingers flexing to reveal long yellow nails. Translucent wings connected its arms to its bony hips. Its gnarled feet trembled, crooked knuckles cracking as it prepared to disengage from the beam. It tipped its head, neck craning to look down upon Max and the teenage girl. Coal-black eyes blinked. Its nose was withered away to nothing, dark, slitted nostrils twitching as it sniffed at the air. A puckered mouth yawned open, revealing a maw of jagged teeth dominated by enlarged central incisors, each fully an inch in length.

  The girl returned her gaze to Max at the precise moment his sneaker connected with the block at his feet. Those Saturday morning soccer games in elementary school hadn’t been a waste of time after all. He went for a controlled pass with the inside of his shoe, surrendering the power of a penalty kick in favor of accuracy. His foot struck the piece of timber sweetly, propelling it at the student’s head. There was a resounding thunk as the rotten wood hit her temple before she crashed to the floor in a crumpled heap, Taser and flashlight tumbling from her hands. He dived forward, snatching up the stun gun as the monster hit the ground.

  Max jumped and turned in time to see the creature advancing on spindly legs. The flashlight rolled back and forth across the earth, its flickering beam flashing wildly around the mill. The creature’s pale skin was stretched taut over every bone, granting it the appearance of a staggering cadaver. Its dead, hungry eyes bulged in their sockets, fixed upon the young adventurer, a dark tongue fluttering across those familiar, hideous teeth. Max checked the Taser in his hands.

  “Fool,” groaned the girl from where she lay slumped at the monster’s feet. The abomination came to a halt, chuckling as it ran a grotesque hand affectionately through her dark hair. “You really think that can harm my love?”

  “No,” said Max, aiming the weapon overhead and firing it up the wall.

  The two Taser probes whistled through the air, wires trailing, catching themselves on the old saw blade. In a fluid motion, the young monster hunter yanked the stun gun back like a fish on a line. The rusted tool tore free from its bracket, spinning dangerously through the air toward him. Max made a silent prayer as his hand shot out to catch it, hoping to maintain a full complement of fingers. He snatched it by the handle and brought it around in a scything arc toward the creature.

  “But this should do the trick!”

  The monster’s black eyes went wide as the rusty saw blade tore a jagged path through its neck. The decapitated head tumbled, landing neatly in the girl’s lap as she let loose a startled shriek. It was as if a switch had flipped in her head—with the glamour lifted, the effect of the spell ceased instantly. No longer the beast’s consort, she was just a confused young woman cradling a hideous, stinking, slack-jawed skull.

  “Vampires,” said Max Helsing, with a shake of his head. He tossed the bloodied saw aside as the monster’s corpse collapsed into the dirt. “Terrible boyfriend material.”