Still, until such time as that happened, my place was here. I would hold the line no matter what. I would...
My cell phone rang, interrupting my thoughts. Figuring that perhaps it was Christy, calling for the umpteenth time to check on Kara, I lifted it and saw an unfamiliar number. That was odd. It wasn’t a Boston area code, either.
I clicked to answer it and brought it to my ear, hoping it wasn’t a telemarketer. If so, I’d track their ass down and...
“Sally? Is that you?”
My mouth froze halfway open at the sound of his voice.
“Jesus Christ, where the fuck are you? You have no idea the shit I’ve been through.”
No, not now!
There came a crash on the other end of the call, like a wrecking ball had just plowed through a wall.
“I’ve...sorta...fucked up, just a little bit. I kinda need your help...oh shit!”
More commotion exploded out of the receiver. It sounded like World War Three had broken out.
I finally found my voice. “Bill?”
But the line was already dead. What the fuck had just happened? Had I imagined it? Was it some sort of hallucination brought on by post-traumatic stress? Was maybe someone messing with me right when I’d found my peace with the world?
I looked down at the handset. At the very least, I’d definitely received a call. I dialed the number back and held it to my ear. It rang...three...five...times before switching over to a generic answering message.
For a long time after, I stood and watched the club come to life below me, but didn't really see it.
It isn’t fair!
This was home now...where it had all started for me. It was a chance to right my wrongs and make sure history didn’t repeat itself for anyone else. James had entrusted it to me. He sent me here, knowing I’d make the right choice. He’d believed in me.
Could I throw that all to the wayside for one lifeless fucking dork with a penchant for screwing up every single thing he fucking touched? Hell, I couldn’t even be sure it had really been him.
It had to have been a mistake...or a trick...or maybe I’d somehow developed brain damage at some point in the...
Goddamnit!
I let out a long sigh. Was there really any choice?
Actually, I mused, there was. For perhaps the first time in my life, I was in charge of my own fate.
James had said he’d trusted me to make the right decision, but I realized now he’d been very coy as to what that choice was. Perhaps it was still waiting to be made.
Maybe I was the only one who could truly decide what that was.
That crafty son of a bitch!
Looking at the glass that separated me from the club below, I momentarily caught a glimpse of my reflection. I wasn’t surprised in the least to see a big smile plastered on my face.
I turned back toward my desk. There was a lot of work to be done to keep this city...this world...from going straight to Hell. I, for one, intended to play my part, but in my own way. My days as a pawn were over. The right choice would be whatever I deemed it.
I grinned and considered my next course of action. Whatever I chose, I’d make sure as shit that it counted.
Fate could be a bitch, but it had nothing on me.
THE END
Sally Sunset will return in:
Goddamned Freaky Monsters (The Tome of Bill, part 5)
♦ ♦ ♦
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Bonus Chapter
Goddamned Freaky Monsters
The Tome of Bill, Part 5
ARISE, FREEWILL!!
Ugh. There are few things that can fuck up a good night’s sleep quite like the goddamned alarm clock going off.
I stretched and sat up, feeling as if I’d slept for weeks. A yawn escaped my lips and I blinked several times as my body continued booting up. Once my head was clear, I put my glasses on - snapping things into focus.
Before it could go off again, I smacked the button on the clock - giving it a good whack to drive the point home. Jeez, what a stupid alarm. Who the hell would program something like that into a clock, anyway? It had to have been my roommates fucking with me...again. The dickheads seemed to have a hard-on for doing so.
Oh well, it was probably time to get my ass moving. It’s not like the work day was going to start without me.
I hopped right into my morning routine, pausing only momentarily as I tried to think of what was on the docket for the day. Surely there was some fire to be put out - a project due that was probably giving Jim, my manager at Hopskotchgames.com, a near aneurysm. It was the same thing week after week. Sure, it could get annoying, but there was a certain comfort in the routine of it all.
The only problem was that I had no idea which project needed tending to. Was it Farm Fury? No, we launched that already. Maybe Birds of War? Could be Doctor Dexter’s Daring Dash - that one was coming soon...I think.
Odd. Usually, I was pretty spot on for my schedule, but for the life of me, I had no clue what I was supposed to be working on. Hell, come to think of it, I had no idea what day it even was. It could have been the freaking weekend for all I knew.
But then, why the alarm clock? Oh well. It would probably sort itself out as the morning progressed.
Trying to ignore the concern that nagged at me, I grabbed my clothes and headed toward the bathroom. Hopefully, it would be unoccupied and there would still be some hot water left. Surely a shower would help clear my head.
♦ ♦ ♦
Just as I sat on the couch, a bowl of Cap’n Crunch in hand, a sense of déjà vu hit me. That was stupid. I mean, of course I’d done this before. I lived in this place, for Christ’s sake. I’d probably eaten hundreds of bowls of tooth-rotting cereal sitting right in this spot.
I shook it off as part of the general paranoia that had become a part of my existence ever since dying and rising from the proverbial grave as a vampire. The supernatural world was a fucked-up place, and it seemed that I couldn’t take a dump without some entity deciding that I needed to be vaporized. Such things tended to mess with one’s outlook on life after a while.
Well, fuck that shit. The worries of the underworld could wait until after I’d had my breakfast.
I flipped on the TV, enjoying the rare moment of normalcy. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Hell, a disturbing amount of my life remained mundane. There was my job, for starters - believe me, becoming one of the undead hadn’t been an instant lottery ticket to riches. There were also my roommates...
Speaking of which, where the hell were they?
I guess it made sense that Tom had either left early for his job in Manhattan or maybe slept over at his girlfriend’s place, but Ed worked from home like me. There wasn’t anything requiring him to be in the office today, at least that I could remember, and last night was...
I paused, a spoonful of cereal halfway to my mouth. Last night was what? That was a blank too. It couldn’t have been too memorable. I mean, heck, the apartment wasn’t even close to being trashed. At the very least, I should’ve had some remembrance of what show I’d watched or video game I’d played, but there was nothing.
Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t seem to be suffering from amnesia or any bullshit like that. The important stuff was all there: who I was, my job, where I lived - that kind of shit. It was just the recent past that eluded me for some reason.
I had to admit - it was starting to get odd.
Maybe we had all gone...
Come to think of it, when was the last time I had even seen my roommates?
No, that was stupid. We were the best of friends. We hung out all the time...even when the forces of evil were trying to collectively ass-fuck us.
<
br /> Weird. Maybe I drank a few bottles of overly skunked beer last night and it was screwing with my brain. That didn’t sound so farfetched. If so, my vampire metabolism would take care of it as the day went on, hopefully allowing the fog to lift from my head.
Yeah, I’d let things sort themselves out. There was probably no point in worrying.
I bit down with a satisfying crunch, then began scanning through the channels, hoping to find something worth watching.
Not wanting to burden my soul with Good Morning America or similar insipid morning shit, I quickly skipped to the cable channels - finally stopping on what looked to be some sort of action flick.
There was a battle taking place on a rooftop. Multi-colored lightning flashed in the background as the combatants recklessly tore into each other - gotta love low-budget sci-fi. Yeah, this had promise.
A glowing blonde angel was trashing the bad guys in the middle of it all. Damn, she was hot. Hopefully, this flick had some nudity in it. That wouldn’t exactly be a horrible way to start the day.
Another character, this one decked out in a SpongeBob backpack of all things, hopped onto the screen and began similarly kicking ass. She looked to be of roughly schoolgirl age. Maybe this was a Japanese fetish flick. Talk about a country that was seriously fucked in the head when it came to entertainment.
I was about to change the channel and see what else was playing when my hand paused on the remote. The walking Nickelodeon advertisement was tackled from the side and dragged screaming off the edge. It should have been hilarious. I mean, seriously, I’ve never seen a Wilhelm scream scene that didn’t crack me up. Something about this bothered me, though.
That déjà vu feeling hit me again like a brick to the forehead.
No idea why, but the whole thing felt oddly familiar, and not in a good way. Sadness filled me at the poor little character’s demise. As the rest of the scene unfolded before me, I actually had to reach up and wipe a few tears from my eyes.
I quickly glanced around, making sure neither of my roommates was present to see my sensitive side coming out to play. I’d never hear the end of that. After a few moments - satisfied that I was still alone - I turned back to see how things played out.
The battle seemed to be over. The angel stood there, victorious. She was still wearing too much clothing for my personal gratification, but nevertheless, I was tempted to stand up and cheer for her. Then I noticed one of the bad guys was still alive and approaching from her blind side.
I actually shouted, “No!” at the screen as he pulled out a ridiculously large gun and pointed it at the blonde Xena’s head. A bullet to her face ended the showdown.
I stared transfixed, wondering how the director could allow such a downer of an ending. Asshole should’ve been fired. Things weren’t quite over yet, though. Apparently in need of a fucked-up finale to finish things off with, a bad CGI monster - some kind of Hulk rip-off - jumped into frame from out of nowhere and began tearing shit up.
Okay, this was getting a little too out there, even for me - which was strange in and of itself. Normally, I enjoyed fucked-up foreign movies, but this one had left a bad taste in my mouth for some reason.
I clicked off the television and placed my bowl down, my appetite gone too.
Standing up, I turned my thoughts toward work. Heck, after watching that shit, I was actually looking forward to it. Maybe a few hours of coding would slap me out of my funk. I still had no idea exactly what I was supposed to be programming, but maybe that didn’t matter. Hell, worst-case scenario was I would wing it - maybe take a stab at creating something from scratch. It’s not like Jim would say no to some extra...
A knock at the door interrupted my train of thought.
I waited for a moment, making sure I hadn’t imagined it, but then it came again. Hmm, kind of early for visitors.
Not thinking too much of it, I stood up and walked over - assuming one of my wayward roommates had locked himself out again. In the back of my head, thoughts of wizards, vampire assassins, and angry Sasquatches played out, but I dismissed them all. Most of those, especially that last group, probably wouldn’t have bothered knocking. Besides, I lived in the middle of Brooklyn - not exactly prime Bigfoot country.
Chuckling at my own paranoia, I reached for the knob. As the door opened, though, the sound instantly died in my throat. For a moment, I could do nothing but gape in stunned silence.
The person who stood there was quite familiar to me. I’d have known him anywhere, even with the black eyes and razor sharp fangs.
How could I not? It was me.
Yeah, my day had just gotten a wee bit stranger.
♦ ♦ ♦
Goddamned Freaky Monsters
Available in both ebook and paperback.
About the Author
Rick Gualtieri lives alone in central New Jersey with only his wife, three kids, and countless pets to both keep him company and constantly plot against him. When he’s not busy monkey-clicking words, he can typically be found jealously guarding his collection of vintage Transformers from all who would seek to defile them.
Defilers beware!
Rick Gualtieri is the author of:
Bill the Vampire (The Tome of Bill - 1)
Night Stalker: A Tome of Bill Series Companion
Scary Dead Things (The Tome of Bill - 2)
The Mourning Woods (The Tome of Bill - 3)
Holier Than Thou (The Tome of Bill - 4)
Sunset Strip: A Tome of Bill Series Companion
Goddamned Freaky Monsters (The Tome of Bill - 5)
Half A Prayer (The Tome of Bill - 6)
The Wicked Dead (The Tome of Bill - 7)
Shining Fury: A Tome of Bill Series Companion
The Last Coven (The Tome of Bill - 8)
GET BENT!
Bigfoot Hunters
Devil Hunters
Lycan Moon
Midnite’s Daughter
Sunset Strip: from the Tome of Bill Series Page 20
