The Wicked Dead (The Tome of Bill Book 7)

by Rick Gualtieri

  As these thoughts crossed through my mind, I began to see red – the world around me appearing as if it were bathed in blood.

  I shuddered, letting the anger fill me, taking over, starting the change.

  Just as it began to take hold, crossing the point of no return, a moment of clarity hit me. I had no idea what would come next, but one thing was certain: I was afraid.

  At that thought, a low chuckle rumbled through my mind.

  You should be.

  War of the Gargantuas

  There was no time to wonder what Dr. Death meant. I fell to my knees, then to all fours as I experienced the odd sensation of every square inch of my flesh rippling. My clothes, up until now a comfortable fit, suddenly felt way too tight.

  It wasn’t just all in my mind either. The distinct sound of fabric tearing met my ears, now as sensitive as they had been under the influence of François’s blood. No, more so. I began to hear sounds that I shouldn’t have – Turd’s stomach gurgling from something he’d ate, Sally’s labored breathing, Ed’s footsteps, faint and still retreating but audible nevertheless.

  My glasses slipped from my face and fell into the dirt, yet when I looked down everything was still in clear focus. The claws at the tips of each of my fingers expanded beyond their normal size, turning into cruel talons that I somehow knew would rend flesh and bone as easily as paper.

  My mouth opened of its own accord and I let out a snarl, feeling my canines extend until they felt like sabers that would tear my lips to shreds if I dared try to close my mouth.

  Turd’s heartbeat sped up at the sound and he turned back toward me, his eyes widening ever so slightly.

  “Freewill T’lunta. Turd remembers you this way.”

  I meant to reply, “Then you remember what happened last time,” but for some reason, all that escaped was a feral growl.

  I stood, not remembering giving my nerves the signal to. When I faced Turd, he still towered over me, but not by as much. I’d changed, but I was still me inside. Holy crap, Dr. Death hadn’t been shitting me after all.

  I made to glance down, take a look at what I’d become, but my eyes continued to focus on Turd. That’s when the worry took hold. I tried to flex my fingers, but nothing happened.

  My mouth opened and a word, barely a whisper, escaped. “Sucker.”

  “Turd not sucker. Turd chieftain. Turd your killer!”

  The pity was, I had a feeling Dr. Death’s decree hadn’t been aimed at him.

  * * *

  Wait, you said...

  “I lied,” a voice – mine, yet not – answered.

  But you’re a part of me.

  “Obviously the better part,” he replied.

  Although my eyes remained focused on Turd, I caught a glimpse of Sally beyond him, her mouth agape. Whether it was in surprise or fear, I didn’t know, but I hoped it was the latter.

  I wanted to shout for her to run, but instead, my body did the running – straight at Turd.

  Everything seemed to be moving in slow motion, but then I realized it was just him. I could see every movement he made, every ripple of every muscle, every hair on his body fluttering in the breeze. It was pretty wild. Sort of like having spider-sense.

  He hesitated ever so slightly, so minor I would have never noticed – even hopped up on blood as powerful as François’s. Yet now it was plain as day, as if I’d been blind to not notice such things.

  Then he sprang into savage action, throwing a fist in my – our – direction. The thing was, even that seemed to move at a ridiculously slow pace. It was as if I could have sat down and read a book in the time it took him to throw the haymaker.

  My left arm came up, and I marveled at the torn sleeve and bulging muscles. Hell, if I didn’t know that it was attached to me, I would have thought a professional wrestler had just stepped in to be my personal bodyguard.

  Either way, Dr. Death easily deflected the blow. It was weird. I couldn’t control any part of me, save my thoughts, yet I could feel it all. That was one really fucking strange sensation – like wearing someone else’s meat suit while they drove.

  Sadly, pain was a part of the deal too. Turd and I locked arms, each trying to force the other back. I wanted to cry out to Dr. Death, tell him to watch what the fuck he was doing, but if he heard me, it was ignored.

  Turd opened his mouth and bit down upon my shoulder, his teeth sinking to the bone. Motherfucker! It hurt like a son of a bitch. Worse, who the fuck knew what germs were swimming around in that guy’s mouth? Vampire healing was great and all, but some things were beyond gross.

  Dr. Death merely laughed. Dude had one fucked-up sense of humor.

  My jaw opened wide, obviously under orders from the new landlord, and I saw what he was planning.

  Don’t do it!

  I chomped down on Turd, in the spot where his massive head met his shoulders. Sadly, in addition to pain, I also got to experience the wonderful sensation of taste. I swear, if I live to be a thousand, I will never ever forget the taste of Turd. Pity that my gag reflex wasn’t under my control because I would have loved nothing better than to puke my guts up at that point.

  As if to rub it in, my tongue washed over the bloody fur I was biting into.

  You’re a real fucking asshole, know that?

  There we stood, fighting back and forth – each taking a chunk out of the other and refusing to let go. I swallowed, a goodly amount of flesh and blood slithering down my throat. At least Sasquatch blood didn’t taste like the rest of them. I can’t say I would have been happy living off a diet of it, but I’d tasted worse.

  Sadly, no power boost came from it, but then, it didn’t seem like Dr. Death needed one. Little by little, Turd gave ground. It seemed an impossible task, yet I was forcing him back.

  Or at least I was until Turd used his superior height and leverage to lift me off the ground and throw me.

  Dr. Death refused to let go easily, though, so along with us came a chunk of Turd’s immense tricep hanging from my mouth.

  We landed twenty feet away, rolled with it, and bounced back to our feet nimbly. Goddamn, it was weird to think about myself in third person. Made me feel like I should have been wearing a lucha libre mask or something.

  Okay, you’ve made your point. Put me in control now before you do something stupid.

  “Stupid? You’re one to talk.”

  You let Turd take a chunk out of us! Is that your plan, to keep biting each other and see who falls first?

  “Might be.” We glanced to our left, and I saw my arm whole again. The shoulder had been torn out of my shirt and jacket, but the flesh beneath it showed no sign of having been wounded. Hell, I hadn’t even noticed the pain was gone, it had been so fast.

  Okay, so maybe as far as plans went, it wasn’t that bad.

  Turd wasn’t faring nearly as well. He stood there, several paces away, his hand over the gaping wound we’d left where we’d bitten down. It wasn’t fatal by any stretch, but it looked like it hurt like a motherfucker. Can’t say I felt too bad for him.

  “Turd done playing. Now T’lunta die!”

  The ugly asshole threw back his head and let out a sighing howl.

  “What the hell’s he doing?”

  I glanced to my side and saw Sally had made her way over to me. What the fuck? Had she gone insane? Didn’t she see that I wasn’t in control?

  “No idea. Let’s find out,” Dr. Death replied, sounding quite reasonable.

  I guess she didn’t realize it. The old Sally would have probably sensed something was wrong. She knew me too well to be fooled, or I thought she did anyway. This new, mind-wiped Sally, however, didn’t seem to realize that what Dr. Death had just said was far from my normal mannerisms. I wasn’t one to stand by and wait for the enemy to power-up to Super Saiyan 3.

  And that seemed to be what Turd was doing. I’d thought maybe he’d been calling for reinforcements. He was, but they weren’t from anyone else.
His body shimmered and, for a moment, it was hard to tell him from the forest behind him, but then I saw him change – adding an extra foot in height. Bony protrusions burst from his body, covering him in armor of sorts. He raised his arms and two more immediately grew out from his sides, each as dangerous-looking as the originals.

  Brilliant fucking move, Einstein. Shall we sit here while he runs into town and buys a howitzer too?

  “Should we run?” Sally asked, looking up at me, her eyes trailing over my form.

  “No need,” Dr. Death replied smoothly.

  “So then what’s the plan?”

  Run!

  My teeth ground together. Apparently, my other half was getting annoyed, although I wasn’t sure if it was from me or her. That wasn’t good. If he tried to hurt her, I’d...

  “Stay out of this, darling,” he replied, no trace of anger in his voice. “Papa’s got some work to do.”

  * * *

  You didn’t actually say that, did you? Christ, that was lame even by my standards.

  Dr. Death chose to ignore me, instead rushing forward again toward Turd. Oh crap. It was like being on a roller coaster, except having no idea what was coming next.

  Turd smiled, both sets of hands cracking their knuckles as I came at him. This was insane. We’d wounded him, and a wounded Turd didn’t sound like something I really wanted to corner.

  Dr. Death had other plans, though. He took one more step and then we were airborne, sailing over Turd’s outstretched arms. We did a somersault mid-air and landed behind him.

  Before Turd could spin around, we kicked a leg out from under him and sent him to one knee. A punch, harder than anything I’d ever thrown before, flew into the back of the Sasquatch’s head and momentarily stunned him.

  Dr. Death grabbed hold of Turd’s two upper arms and planted a knee in his back for leverage as he began to apply pressure.

  Turd was still dangerous, but we were in a position where his other arms couldn’t reach back and grab hold.

  I looked up, caught sight of Sally’s face on the other side of the clearing, and – holy shit – I actually winked at her. What a cock!

  She gave a somewhat uncomfortable glance back and then rushed forward as Dr. Death continued to match strength with Turd, slowly pulling the big ape’s arms back.

  Sally, proving that she gave far more shits about fashion than fair combat, ran up and planted a kick to Turd’s face.

  “I thought I told you to stay out of this,” Dr. Death growled, his claws now extended and digging into Turd’s arms at the elbow.

  Sally smiled. “Since when the fuck do I listen to what you say?”

  “Since...” I could feel my own muscles straining against the massive Sasquatch, but then... *crack* “...now.”

  Turd screamed, both in rage and pain, as his two upper arms were broken. Holy shit! I wouldn’t have guessed doing anything less than running him over with a semi would have done that.

  Dr. Death let go of the now useless appendages and Turd flopped forward, just barely missing Sally, who jumped out of the way at the last second.

  The Sasquatch pushed himself back up using his remaining two arms, but he otherwise looked to be in pretty rough shape. “Turd kill you all,” he growled, but it seemed to fall short of being a threat.

  “He’s done,” Sally said. “Let’s get the fuck out of here before more of them show up.”

  My body took a step toward her. “We’re done when I say we’re done.”

  “Turd say you done now!” All at once, Turd sprang back up and spun. His broken arm went flying wide, almost like a ragdoll’s, but his other was the true threat. It caught us on the jaw full-on with a backhand. Our lip split and we went flying through the air.

  Had I been my normal self, the blow would have sent my head in a different direction than my body. Instead, it did little more than momentarily daze me.

  Sadly, that was more than enough for Turd. He shoved Sally to the side as if she were nothing and then charged us, all reason gone from his eyes, not that there had been a lot there to begin with.

  You deserved that!

  “Are you done being a distraction?” Dr. Death growled, pulling us to our feet.

  It’s what I do best. Although perhaps he did have a point. Turd winning this fight wasn’t really in any of our best interests, no matter who was in control of my body.

  We dove at Turd, a sloppy maneuver that did little more than land us in his arms – the working ones, sadly.

  He closed them around us in a bear hug and, all at once, I knew how it felt to be stuffed into a trash compactor.

  “Now Turd crush you like bug you are.”

  I thought Dr. Death would try to power his way out, but instead, he just freed his arms, leaving Turd to continue crushing the rest of our shared form. My ribs creaked from the pressure and though the lungs of my body weren’t currently under my control, I still felt the air forced out of them.

  What the fuck. Was Dr. Death waiting for an invitation or something? Eye gouge the motherfucker already. Do something!

  “Say please.” His voice was barely a whisper due to our current lack of oxygen, but there was no mistaking what he mouthed.

  What?!

  “Do it. Beg me to save us.”

  Fuck you!

  “Turd no beg. Turd eat face!”

  Oh fuck! The King Kong wannabe opened his mouth and snapped at us. Dr. Death pulled back at the last second, almost costing us a nose.

  Jesus Christ! Punch him at least!

  Again, Turd tried to take a bite, offering me a close-up view of the back of his throat.

  Okay, okay! Please kill this fucker or something.

  “Much better. Now was that so hard?”

  As Turd continued to put on the pressure, enough so that I was surprised my eyes hadn’t popped out of my head yet, Dr. Death finally took action. With his left hand, he held Turd’s snapping jaws at bay. He then extended the claws of his right and used them to dig into the still gushing wound on Turd’s neck.

  Turd screamed as the razor sharp talons dug their way in. Muscle, tendons, and more gave way to the assault. Ugh, so gross, although I had to admit it was still preferable to shoving my fist up Turd’s ass.

  At last, when Dr. Death was elbow deep, Turd let go and tried to tear us off. Sadly for him, he was too late. My hand closed around something hard and sharp deep inside of him and squeezed.

  It wasn’t until the bone shattered under my grasp that I realized what it was – Turd’s spine.

  * * *

  With a final shudder, Turd fell to his knees. For a second, he just stared at me, a mixture of hatred and confusion etched upon his stupid face. Then his eyes glazed, he fell over, and let out one last fart to let the underworld know he was on his way.

  Turd had finally been flushed for good.

  Way to go! We did it!

  Dr. Death lifted a hand to our lips and licked the blood off the fingers – the act being far less pornographic than it probably sounded.

  Okay, fight’s over. You can give me control again.

  My gaze shifted and I caught sight of Sally picking herself up off the forest floor and dusting herself free of dirt and pine needles.

  Yep, it sure will be great when you’re a part of my subconscious again.

  “Holy shit, Bill, you did it,” Sally said, walking over and standing alongside me. She gave Turd’s corpse one last kick for good measure.

  Yoo-hoo! You listening to me?

  “And I have to admit,” she continued, giving me a cursory once-over, “you clean up pretty well when you want to.”

  I did? Where was a fucking mirror when you needed one? I...

  “I was never a part of you.”

  What?

  “What?” Sally asked. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

  “You thought I was a piece of you. How pathetic. As if a being as magnificent as I could ever be a subset of
you.”

  “Bill, you okay? Something get knocked loose during the fight?” Sally chuckled, but it had an uneasy air to it. She no doubt sensed something was off ... probably because the stuff Dr. Death spouted sounded batshit crazy even to me, the guy he was conversing with.

  “You know nothing of your kind,” he continued. “I was dragged into you when you were turned, but unlike most, I got lucky. You were different, special, a Freewill. A means to an end, a means to be ... free.”

  He turned toward Sally. I was normally a good head taller than her diminutive frame, but now, I practically towered over her.

  “Sadly, there’s not enough room in the old apartment for both of us. It’s time for you to get yours, but first...” He took a step toward Sally, who wisely backed up two, “...it’s your turn to get what’s coming to you, bitch.”

  NO! Leave her alone. I swear to God I’ll...

  “Time for baby boy to take a nap. Don’t worry. I’ll wake you when it’s all over.”

  My vision once more turned to red, a bloody haze descending upon the world as he advanced upon Sally. Bodiless, formless, helpless, I fought against it to no avail. As the red tint deepened, blotting out all vision, closing in upon me, the last thing I saw was her eyes widening in fear.

  I cried out silently without a voice to be heard and then knew no more.

  Midnight Tryst

  “No. I’m not gonna let you. I’ll die first.”

  My eyes flew open and I sat up, drawing in a huge gasp of air, feeling as if I’d been drowning.

  I glanced up and saw swirls of green and dark blue. Everything was blurry as fuck, but from the color, it appeared that the sky had lightened. Apparently, dawn was approaching. Normally, that would be a point of concern, but then realization hit. I couldn’t be turned to dust inside my own head, or at least I didn’t think so.

  Dr. Death had said something about getting rid of me. Back when Christy had been helping me to get in touch with my inner problem child, I’d threatened to blast him to bits with all sorts of sci-fi awesomeness and he’d seemed pretty goddamned afraid. Maybe all that bullshit about dying in your dreams was true in a fashion.