Night Things: The Monster Collection

by West, Terry M.

  There was a tap at the curtained window. Sheila gasped and paused the recorder. She sat there for a moment, thinking it must have been her imagination. But another tap came.

  "Puis-je entrer?"

  It was Ella's voice.

  Sheila walked slowly to the window and drew back the curtain. Ella stood there, on the fire escape. Her hair was black now, and her usually colorful attire was dark.

  "Puis-je entrer?" she repeated. She smiled and placed her palm against the window.

  "Oui!" Sheila said, undoing the clasp and sliding the window open.

  Ella entered and they hugged. Sheila pulled back and looked gloomily to Ella. "Gary Hack and Mike Cooke are dead," she said.

  "Yes I know," Ella replied sadly. "It's heartbreaking, isn't it?"

  "Holly told me that you helped her when she was kidnapped. She said you're a vampire," Sheila said.

  "Yes, that's true. But you know I wouldn't harm you."

  "Of course you wouldn't," Sheila said without hesitation. "I'm your she-she."

  "Yes you are," Ella said brightly. "That's why I am here. Sheila, I need to take you away from this place."

  "Why?" Sheila said. "Uncle Johnny takes good care of me. It'll make him sad if I leave."

  "It is dangerous for you here. Especially with Johnny exposing himself to the world. People will try and hurt you. Because he cares for you. The world is too big and treacherous for you here. But I can protect you. With a small kiss on the neck, you can become my daughter. You have always been my little girl. My little she-she. But this will make it real. And you'll be strong after it. You'll be able to take care of yourself."

  "Can we still go to Paris?" Sheila asked.

  "Of course," Ella said. "I promised you that trip and I keep my promises."

  "I have to go upstairs for my passport," Sheila said.

  "You won't need it," Ella said. She shook her head sadly and stroked Sheila's cheek. "You are all I have left. I lost your father and my best friends. But we can be a family, she-she."

  "Can Holly come?" Sheila asked.

  "No, dear. She doesn't want the gift I have to offer."

  "I should say goodbye," Sheila said.

  "You can't. Johnny would never let you leave. You have to decide quickly, she-she, before they figure out a vampire is in the building. Are you coming with me? Do you want to be my daughter forever and ever?"

  Sheila thought about it, and then a big grin formed on her face. "Oui!"

  25.

  Woody Earns his Keep

  Woody paused at a diner advertising a bottomless cup of coffee. But below that sign, a bigger one proclaimed: No Ghouls Allowed.

  "That's discrimination," he muttered, frowning and going on his way. As he passed an alley, a strong hand grabbed him roughly by his coat and pulled him inside.

  Abraham Janvier spun the frightened creature around.

  "Oh, man," Woody said, covering his Grinch-sized heart. "Mr. Janvier. You scared me."

  "Do you have anything for me?" Abraham said unapologetically. He held a tall cup of coffee. He removed the top and took a small drink.

  "Yes!" Woody said eagerly, anxious for the prize in Abraham's hard hands. "Yes I do. Word has it some men pulled a very large coffin from the sewer earlier yesterday."

  "The sewer?" Abraham said.

  "Yes."

  "Do you have any idea who pulled it from the sewer?"

  "No," Woody said. "I only know that a box built for a vampire king was brought up."

  "Then I will go to the sewer and get answers."

  "The Mermen would be the ones to question. Nothing floats down there that they don't know about. But they aren't the most hospitable Night Things."

  "I have heard of them. They are formidable and vicious. But I think I know a way to approach them without violence. Where is the nearest fish market?"

  26.

  A Bad Day to be a Merman

  The mermen stood at alert when they heard a trespasser approaching. They had let the strange old man and his entranced minions take their master, and there was nothing to stop them from releasing their anger and confusion on this unfortunate interloper.

  As the beast approached, the mermen had to adjust their angry gazes upward. They released a chorus of hisses as the massive, ugly, and cancer-riddled ogre paused.

  "Don't mind me," Edmund Wraight stated with an apologetic look of amusement. "I'm merely passing through, gents. I need to catch up with an old friend and didn't want to attract any attention up there on the streets. If you would allow me to pass, I will be out of your scales in a tick. I am in a bit of rush, eh?"

  The mermen advanced slowly on Wraight.

  "Oh, so it's going to be like that," he said, with a hearty laugh. "Very well, then. I suppose I have a few minutes to spare."

  One of the mermen launched itself at Wraight. It latched onto his neck and began viciously biting at the giant's rank flesh. Wraight pulled the creature off without difficulty. He wrapped his hand tightly around the merman's waist.

  "I'm feeling a bit peckish, myself," he said, raising the merman to his mouth and biting the creature in half.

  The other mermen screeched in protest as Wraight chewed on their brother.

  "And me without chips," Wraight said, grinning with teeth stained green from the merman's blood.

  27.

  High Alert

  Johnny Stücke was waiting for us when the elevator doors opened. Before he could pose a question, one of his men appeared with Holly in tow.

  "We can't find Sheila," the sentry in a suit informed his boss.

  "She's in 232," Johnny said. "It's her secret place. She doesn't know that I know about it. Grab her and get the kids into the panic room."

  "I want to stay with you," Holly protested.

  "Holly, something is heading this way and I have no idea how much of a threat it is. Please just do as I say," Johnny said.

  Holly nodded reluctantly and took the elevator with the guard.

  Johnny finally turned his attention to us. "What are we dealing with, Herbert?"

  "It's unclassifiable, but I have no doubt that it will come here."

  Glass appeared and addressed Johnny. "I got fifty men in the lobby all itching to tear something up. So what's the scoop?"

  "Herbert was just getting to that. Details, West. Now," Johnny said, growing impatient. "Who is this Edmund Wraight?"

  "The creature came to me in the guise of an eccentric financer by that name," Herbert explained. "It was before that business in Arkham that sent me here. During an experiment, Edmund was killed. Or so I thought. I brought him back with my serum, but there was a horrible side effect. Edmund was a Night Thing. He claimed to be a creature created by a race of ancient and terrible Gods. The Old Ones, he called them.

  "His bite was capable of raising the dead. But his victims were reborn with an intense and innate hatred of him. He sought me out to find a way to control them using what is now regarded as the horde frequency. He could hear his children through it, but he could not project his will to them. I imprisoned him, but I was forced to free him when an army of my own creations attacked my house. He goes through a pattern of feeding and sleeping for many, many years. I did not know when he might reemerge, but when the Magic came and zombies were at the forefront of it, I realized that Wraight was behind it. He's responsible for the zombie plague that is currently terrorizing the world. I have been searching for a way to block the minds of zombies from Wraight's potential influence, and Carol was my first successful result."

  "I can't believe you never told me about this," Johnny said, looking a little hurt and betrayed.

  "He was my greatest shame. And there was no way of finding him or predicting when he might return," Herbert explained.

  "Weaknesses?" Johnny asked.

  "None that I could ascertain," Herbert said. "I don't know that we are even capable of destroying him. Our best course would be to entrap him until I can find a way to eliminate the threat he poses."<
br />
  "So, he is bearing down on us because Carol is the key to jamming the frequency," Johnny said.

  "There's more," I said, taking the ball from Herbert. "I was able to control a dozen zombies at Herbert's lab. They responded to my thoughts."

  "Oh, boy," Johnny said, and he didn't need to have the revelation explained to him. "The horde frequency is a funny animal. A lot of elder Night Things have a form of telepathy. Dracula was able to influence the thoughts of his followers. Of course, he had a team of necromancers and mages to help boost and maintain his mental grip. But the horde frequency is a wild horse with no one in the saddle. Until now, it seems."

  "Wraight claimed the frequency came from the death dreams of his fathers. Whatever its origins, my intention with Carol was to develop a way to block it. But there is something unique in her chemistry that allows her to project to the zombies without her being affected by the frequency. Wraight must have been watching me or knew things through the zombies I was housing. Carol has what he very much covets," Herbert said. "And if he is able to control the zombies, the world doesn't have a prayer."

  "Can we rouse the Pharaoh in the basement?" Glass suggested.

  "Unless you have the still beating heart of one of his ancestors, Hor-Aha is out of this battle."

  "Can you folks tell me what we are up against?" Glass asked of Herbert and me.

  "He's huge. And gross. And strong," I said.

  Glass nodded. "Should be easy to spot then."

  "Call Janvier," Johnny said to Glass.

  "He never answers his calls or texts," Glass said.

  "Then send some boys out and search for bread crumbs," Johnny said. "Find him, Percy."

  Glass looked shocked for a second, and then he glowered and marched toward the elevators. "Damn girl sold a brother out," I heard him mutter as he left.

  "We'll take this Edmund Wraight down," Johnny promised. "Everything has a weak point. If he makes it past my forces, I'll take care of him myself."

  "Don't be overconfident, Johnny," Herbert warned. "I have seen you in action and I know what you are capable of, but Wraight is much more powerful than you. You wouldn't stand a chance."

  "Well, now you've got my ego involved, Herbert. And if I had backed down from every challenger who was more powerful than me, I wouldn't be where I am or who I am."

  "We should take Carol to the panic room," Herbert suggested.

  "I should knock you on your ass," I said defensively.

  Herbert shook his head. "No, Carol. This isn't sexism. You are his intended target."

  "And you want to put me in a metal box with innocent kids? No thanks," I said.

  "Carol stays," Johnny interjected. "If this Wraight makes it up here, we are going to need her."

  "I guess our drinks by the fireplace will have to wait yet again," I said, joking despite the violent potential of the evening.

  "The night is still very young," Johnny said with a smile.

  28.

  Dead End

  Abraham walked slowly through the sewer. He carried a five-gallon bucket filled with ice and fish. He had entered a manhole near the portion of the city waste system that Woody had suggested. The little bastard knew a lot. He was proving to be very useful.

  As Abraham discovered the den of mermen, his flashlight striking the area, he saw the brutal aftermath of a huge battle. The mermen were dead. They were more than dead. Their bodies had been torn apart. Their green blood painted the sewer walls like the abstract graffiti of a psychopath.

  There wasn't a full moon, and only the werewolves were capable of a slaughter this massive. Zombies would have fallen quickly to the mermen and vampires had no reason to wage a war against the creatures.

  Abraham noticed a corpse stir. He dropped the bucket and rushed to the monster. It was barely alive. He took off his jacket, knelt down, and made a pillow for the dying merman's head. The creature looked with weak eyes at the trespasser.

  "What happened? What did this to you?" Abraham asked softly.

  "Giant," the Merman said. Blood followed the word and the poor bastard shook and died.

  Abraham stood up, forgoing his jacket.

  I guess Dracula will have to wait, he thought.

  Abraham pulled the Night Kopis from the sheath tucked under his shirt. The blade heated and glowed quickly. The mystical silver weapon had been forged by a monk who was the last survivor of a massacre led by Dracula. It was said that the monk had imbued the weapon with his very soul. The Kopis had been created to destroy Dracula, but its ego would drive its host toward any powerful creature of the night. The weapon had a tendency to warp thoughts and drain life, so it was used sparingly.

  "Where is this creature?" Abraham asked the Kopis.

  An answer came. And Abraham didn't like it. He sheathed the Kopis and ran toward the nearest manhole entrance.

  29.

  Percival and his Knights Face the Dragon

  "Everyone is in place," Bruce Stroup, ex-Green Beret and one of Glass' top men informed his moody supervisor. "But I have a feeling this is a bust, man. We're all just sitting around with our thumbs up our asses."

  "You all better wash your hands before lunch then," Glass teased.

  Glass sat behind the front desk of Stücke's building. The building staff had been sent home because of the scare.

  "We have men on the roof and we've tripled security on every floor," Bruce said.

  "Good. If them boys are bored, they can sweep the building again," Glass suggested, leaning back in the chair and putting his arms behind his head.

  "You got it, Percy," Stroup teased.

  Glass aimed his index finger at Stroup. "Cut that shit out or someone's getting an ass-whipping," he said sternly.

  Stroup chuckled and went to the men in the lobby.

  Dennis Flewitt approached Glass. Dennis was a Desert Storm veteran and usually a smart ass, so Glass cautioned him before he even spoke. "If the word Percy comes out of your mouth, I will put a mark on you that soap won't wash off, Flewitt."

  The man looked panicked. "We can't find Sheila," he said, grimly. "We looked everywhere."

  Before Glass could address Flewitt, the building rocked.

  "What the fuck was that?" Glass muttered, standing quickly after have been thrown from his chair.

  "It's coming from below the floor!" Stroup called back from near the front door.

  Suddenly, Stroup was shot into the air as the marble floor beneath him ruptured and exploded. Glass watched as the grungiest, biggest zombie he had ever seen climbed from the hole. It looked sick, ailing, despite being dead. Disease oozed from its pores.

  "Oh man, Carol Haddon wasn't lying," Glass said, pulling a pair of silver loaded 9mms from his pockets. "Light it up!"

  Four of Glass' men in riot gear turned the nozzles of their flamethrowers toward the beast and showered it. The monster covered its face, but the fire didn't seem to have an effect on it. The slime coating the thing blazed and then a green flame trail climbed down to the flamethrowers. The men holding the weapons exploded.

  "Hit him with everything!" Glass shouted, firing into the creature.

  Fifty men fired high caliber handguns and Uzis at the giant. But the monster seemed to absorb the bullets. It laughed madly and Glass felt his blood freeze. He had never seen a Night Thing take silver so easily.

  "Bugger off! I'll turn the whole lot of you into bobs and bits!" it shouted.

  The ogre moved through the hail of silver and grabbed Flewitt. It bit his head off and tossed the headless corpse aside, taking three of Glass' men down.

  Glass slammed new clips into his weapons, but he had little faith in their effectiveness. "I need a fucking vacation," he muttered before turning his guns on the creature again.

  30.

  (Un)Safe House

  When the gunfire started, Johnny calmly removed his expensive jacket and rolled up his sleeves. He walked slowly to the elevator and faced it silently.

  I watched as Herbert ran over to an
ornamental suit of armor in the corner of the greeting room and snatched a dull-edged sword. Herbert regarded me. "You need a weapon."

  "She is a weapon," Johnny advised, still facing the elevator. "I'm taking first crack at this thing."

  "What if it gets past you?" Herbert said, concerned.