But the point is, all I had growing up was Mom and Mikkel. But since Mikkel was only two years older than me, it was mostly Mom. She raised us single handedly. Sure, our neighbors helped because South Egan is like that, but it was really Mom. I'm not sure where Mikkel and I would be without her if we had lost her sooner.
At sixteen, she asked me to get a job and help out around the house. Mikkel had already graduated high school and had a part time job for a few years. The money he brought in made things better. But as a young dumbass, all I wanted to do was drink, hangout with my friends, and go to punk shows. Stupid crap. The idea that I would get a job seemed antagonistic to me at the time, but now I feel like an idiot realizing how much she had sacrificed for us and how unwilling I was to do just a little to help out. If I could take it all back and not spend the last year not fighting with her all the time... well, we all know the proverb about hindsight.
It was a night in November that changed things forever. Mom and I had fought again. I said some cruel things, she said some sensible things, but the final conclusion was that I ran out of the house in a huff. Mikkel found me two blocks away shivering on a doorstep because I had walked out without taking my coat and it had started to snow. Wise beyond his years or just sick of my shit, Mikkel talked me down out of my anger. The nearly freezing cold had also helped to cool my pissy feelings. I agreed to come back home.
When we opened the door to the apartment, it was dark. All the lights were off. We paused at the door. Why would the light be off? Did she go looking for me and we miss her on the street?
"Mom?" said Mikkel.
We heard movement in the darkness. There was a hiss like a snake.
I flipped the light switch.
Mom was laying on the couch, but above her was some man. Mom wasn't dating someone, but even if she had been, something was off about this.
Our fears were confirmed when the man lifted his head to look at us. His eyes... I guarantee if you've never seen one of them, you've never seen anything like their eyes. There's not one obvious thing you can say for how they're different. But a look in their eyes - a real look, not a glance - would show you that what you're looking at might look human but was not. There's darkness in those eyes. Not feral like a ghoul, not dead like a zombie - no, this was an intelligent evil; alien but very aware.
He opened his mouth to growl. Mikkel swears he saw sharp teeth then and there, but I don't remember seeing them. I didn't have a good look - I swear I didn't. I wasn't purposely obtuse for so long. I only saw the white spiderweb-like scar on the right side of his forehead. But it was just a moment and the man slipped out the open window.
There was a red mark on Mom's neck, right where it met her shoulder. That was enough for me. While Mikkel went to help her, my anger burned through me. I ran to the window. Down below on the street I saw the man running down the alley. He ran quickly and I was amazed that he was already at the alley - we lived on the fourth floor. To my right was a fire escape, which he probably had taken. It wasn't exactly adjacent to the window, but a crazy person could jump from the window and probably grab the fire escape.
It was my turn to be that crazy person. I climbed up on the window sill. From my crouch I looked at the fire escape. Five feet never seemed so far away. But below me I heard the steps of the man receding and my anger flared again. I jumped.
My hands grabbed for the fire escape. My angle was poor. I managed to grab the bars, but my momentum almost tore me from it. The next thing I realized was since this was November and it had been snowing, the metal of the fire escape was icy cold. My hands immediately started feeling numb. Between the cold and momentum, my grip faltered. From a two handed grip I slipped to one hand. And as my weight dropped, even that second hand couldn't hold on. I fell.
Obviously since this is a flashback, I didn't end up a hot splatter of blood on the cement. Fortune was looking out for my stupidity. I smashed down on the top of the dumpster. I saw stars and my back hurt. But even with all that pain, I was still angry. I still wanted to find the guy.
I rolled off the dumpster, falling to a crouch on the street. My head swam, my vision still blurry. Somehow I forced myself to my feet. I stumbled in the direction the man had gone. I went as far as the street, then realized I had lost him. Even with my blurry vision, I could see that any footprints in the snow would have been covered up or ruined by the few pedestrians rushing home to escape the snow.
My head and vision had just about cleared up when I reached the door to our home, having carefully climbed the stairs clutching the railing.
"How is she?" I mumbled, not realizing how dazed I was until I heard my own voice.
"She's asleep..." said Mikkel. I think he didn't want to just say "unconscious" because that sounded more serious. "Her pulse is stable. She has a fever, though[21]."
"What about her neck?" I said.
Mikkel's expression turned to a tense frown. He gently moved Mom's head and carefully lifted a makeshift bandage he had applied. There had been blood, but the actual wound were small pinpricks in almost a starburst. The skin was heavily bruised, but there's wasn't exactly a cut.
"I don't know what that is," he said. He's said since then that he knew he was lying when he said that, but he didn't want to mention the teeth.
"What do we do?" I said, panic starting to set in.
"I don't know," said Mikkel. I had looked up to him most of my life, but he was only two years older than me. Eighteen year olds don't know shit either.
"Let's take her to the hospital," I said. I didn't trust doctors, but I was scared and didn't know what to do.
"We don't have money for the hospital and it's snowing," said Mikkel. "She seems to be okay right now. Maybe she'll wake up. We can always take her to the doctor then."
"The cops?" I said. Obviously we had an intruder who had attacked her.
"The cops aren't going to come to South Egan for something like this," said Mikkel. He at least knew enough more than me to realize that. They would have said it was a minor domestic problem and shrugged it off without the suspect around. Cops hated spending more time in any part of Egan than they needed to.
We both frowned. We didn't like waiting.
She didn't wake up until three in the afternoon the next day. One of us had sat by her bed all morning and she didn't appreciate us fretting over her when she awoke. Other than a non-specific weakness, she said she felt okay. Her fever was gone. She didn't remember anything from the night before after Mikkel and I left. She was confused by the wound on her neck. We tried to tell her about the intruder, but she was confused by it and didn't believe someone could be in our home. We didn't mention his eyes nor did Mikkel mention his teeth. I said that I had scared him off and while I ran after him, I didn't catch him. She appreciated the effort.
We convinced her to go to the clinic. She was sure she had just caught the flu or something, since while she felt weak, she otherwise felt fine. She kept forgetting she had a neck wound, which really bothered me. The doctor didn't have anything to say about the wound other than suggesting it might be from some bug. I nearly bit his head off asking what bug could do that, since the size would be enormous. The doctor had no answer for me. He took some blood and said he would have the results another day, but he guessed she was anemic and recommended she have a burger. Then he left the room for other patients.
We stood outside in the hall as our mother dressed.
"I really don't feel like this was much help," said Mikkel.
"That doctor was crap," I said. "I don't trust doctors. He barely looked at her! And that's bullshit that he didn't recognize the wound at all. He's supposed to be a doctor. He's supposed to know this shit."
"I don't think every wound is in a medical textbook," said Mikkel.
I started to say something, but Mikkel stopped me when he saw the doctor's nurse walking up to us. So what if whatever I said would have been disrespectful to her doctor. That's the sort of kid I was. Bluntly and obnoxiously honest. A
nd let's all realize that for a sixteen year old, you should substitute honest for opinionated.
Rather than defend the doctor, the nurse glanced either way in the hall before speaking.
"I've seen a wound like that before," she said in a hushed voice.
"The doctor hadn't ever seen it before," I said.
"No," she said, almost embarrassed. "But I have."
"What do you mean?" said Mikkel.
"I can't really explain here at work," she said, "and I probably shouldn't. Your mom wouldn't believe me and you probably wouldn't either. Call this man. He can explain. You need help."
She handed Mikkel a slip of paper.
"Is this another doctor?" I asked.
She shook her head.
"Then what is he?" I said.
She shook her head again, her look grave. "Just call." She walked off.
"What the hell was that bullshit?" I said. "Is it a fucking lawyer? Is it one of those guys who prey on victims in clinics? What the fuck is this bullshit?"
"Lower your voice," said Mikkel, making me realize how loud I had gotten. "We're in a clinic."
"I'm just sick of this all," I said. "I'm going outside to smoke. You and Mom can meet me outside."
I left Mikkel standing in the hall looking at the piece of paper in his hand.
Mom did recover. In just a few days she was back to normal. The wound healed and she forgot all about it. Literally. It wasn't just that it was in the hazy past, she actually didn't remember any of it. She was only vaguely aware we went to the clinic for some reason she couldn't remember. It was a little spooky.
I didn't call the number. Mom was okay, the incident forgotten. She didn't want additional treatment, I didn't want to deal with more doctors, or not-doctors, as the nurse seemed to indicate. So I never called.
But Mikkel did.
You've probably had your own reaction to the idea that monsters exist. It's almost always disbelieving and incredulous. Unless you yourself had an experience you couldn't explain, you're likely to call bullshit before accepting it as a reasonable possibility. To you, it's fiction. There's no shame in it, that's just the American mindset - we haven't grown up with a national mythology. Now imagine that mindset as a punk sixteen year old kid who had problems with authority. I definitely wasn't going to believe in monsters.
So when Mikkel came home talking about this guy he met who told him stuff about monsters, I flat out didn't believe it from word one. I didn't know who he was talking to and why the nurse gave Mikkel his number, but it was all ludicrously stupid to me. Especially since Mom was now fine. The danger had been averted. Everything was fine.
In the spring, when the weather warmed, the monster came back.
It was April. Mom and I were still fighting. I was getting ready to graduate high school. My birthday was coming up in a few days. Mikkel and I were going out to a movie, but Mom decided to stay home. I thought maybe she was wrapping a present for me or something. Mikkel rolled his eyes and said I was being greedy. I just smiled.
We had gotten to the theater and I realized I had forgotten my wallet. We were going to an R rated film and I wanted to use my fake ID. Mikkel said we were going to be late and that he'd spot me the money. He also razzed me that he could be my over-18 guardian for the film. I punched him in the arm before turning back toward home.
Even before we opened the door, the hairs on the back of my head were standing up. Mikkel also had a weird feeling as we exchanged glances. When the door opened, the lights were off in the apartment again.
We switched on the lights. Our breaths caught as we once again saw the man on the couch on top of my mother. This time when he jerked his head up toward us, blood flew through the air, shaken loose from his mouth. His entire jaw was covered with red. We knew he was the same by the white spiderweb scars on his head. Those dark alien eyes were there too, but this time there was no mistaking the teeth. He did not have a fixed top-bottom jaw like a human or a mammal. The teeth were arrayed in a circle inside his mouth. Row after row of small needle-like teeth circled the inside of his mouth. And they were all covered in blood.
Where before we had interrupted the creature when he had just started, now it was clear he had been feeding off her for more than a few minutes.
We knew immediately the man wasn't human. This froze me in my steps, but Mikkel had been ready. He had heard about what it really was. He grabbed an umbrella from beside the door and charged the man. Mikkel had intended to stab the man with the umbrella, but since Mikkel hadn't yet trained to fight, he lacked the reflexes and coordination he has today. The man easily deflected Mikkel, using a single claw on his finger to swipe a gouge on the left side of Mikkel's head.
Mikkel shouted in pain and fell to the floor. This broke my paralysis. I ran at the man, not knowing what to do... not even known what I could do. I could have been running to my death based on how easily the man had dealt with Mikkel. But the man had no interest in staying. With a turn, he deflected my lunge like a matador. Then he fled to the once-again open window. As I stood, I watched as he did not leap for the fire escape but simply leapt straight down. I ran for the window and caught a simple glimpse of the figure running down the alley.
I turned around to see Mikkel struggling to stand up. I helped him up. His head was bleeding, but he shrugged me off once he was standing. We looked over to Mom. She was covered in blood, the couch as red as she was. Her face was pale, her eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling. I remember moving to her body to try to wake her up, to comfort her. I remember the thought that she had died crawling up my mind like something cold, a numbness then spreading through me. And then I remember Mikkel pulling me from her, not knowing how much time had passed, not knowing that I had been screaming.
I was in a crumple on the floor, screaming and crying. "What did this?" I screamed.
Mikkel surely had his own grief, but he put it aside to deal with his screaming brother.
"What did this?" I screamed again. I was so out of my mind that I kept shouting it over and over like a reflex. My mind had barely accepted my mother's death, but seeing that the man who did it wasn't even human had almost destroyed me.
I kept screaming the same phrase over and over. Mikkel knelt to the ground and pulled me close to him, just holding me as my big brother and my only family as I screamed and cried.
"I'll show you, brother," he said in soft tones, "I'll show you."
Some Kind of Hate
There was a dizzying rush of EMS, police, neighbors, a funeral, and bill collectors that left me drained. My sadness had been internalized, transformed into a cold rage. Not my typical hot anger - that was still around - but this was a cold glacier that lurked deep behind all of it. Mom was dead, but every time I thought of that, an arctic blast shot through me: someone or something had killed her.
Paulie recalls that when he first met me, he described me as a dark storm that had swept into the room, a fearlessly angry figure that demanded to know everything he knew. I'm not sure if I remember it the same way. Mikkel was also mad and for once we were both of one mind. But his rage was not so cold as mine, not so festering. But then again, he already knew.
It was Paulie's number that the nurse had given Mikkel. And it was Paulie that opened Mikkel's eyes to the things going on in New Avalon. Monsters were real and there was a whole class of them very particular to the greater New Avalon area. And whether we accepted that as true or not, we had already encountered one of them.
Paulie has always been strange. I can't say if he was more strange then than now, but to a sixteen year old he seemed really weird. The first thing worth saying is that Paulie was a conspiracy nut. An old fashioned one - cork boards with pictures connected by string, post it notes, reams of paper with redacted government documents. But it wasn't just aimless things about the government, most of his theories focused on their relationship with monsters. Paulie was the first monster hunter we ever met. I'd say our mentor, but he never really taught us anything.
>
Mikkel brought me to the basement apartment that Paulie was currently living in. It was dank and smelled of wet paper and cigarettes. Paulie himself was thin and wiry. His light brown hair was fine and falling out. He looked to be in his forties. He smoked cigarettes and drank caffeine incessantly, something that would become very familiar to Mikkel and I. He was always tense, always twitchy. To say he was paranoid was an understatement. The only reason that I had even been allowed down there was because Mikkel had gained his trust.
"So this is the brother," said Paulie, eyeing me from his desk chair. He was in one of his rare manic moods.
"What do you know about my mother's killer?" I said.
"Straight to the point, isn't he?" said Paulie to Mikkel. "But that's okay, I can appreciate a certain directness." He paused and leaned forward in his chair. "What do you think of monsters, kid?"
"I'm not a kid," I said with venom. "So fuck you."
"He's got spirit," said Paulie. "I like that. Nobody's going to keep him down."
"They better not, or I'll fuck them up," I said.
Paulie laughed. "All that anger! All that violence! All that anti-authoritarianism! I love it!" He lit a cigarette. "Someone just needs to channel that into the perfect hunter!"
"Is that what you think you're going to do, mentor me or some fucking shit?" I said. "I don't know you, fucker, and I don't know what shit you've been putting in Mikkel's head, but we want the truth."
"Dude, chill," said Mikkel.
"Don't worry about it, it's hilarious!" said Paulie with a laugh before calming down in a coughing fit. "No, kid," he paused and waved me to stop when I began to object to kid. "No, my young friend, I don't want to be your mentor. I'm no mentor. I'm not even sure if I trust you. No, I'll tell you things, but your life is your own. I don't like connections. I don't want people they can get at me through."
I Kill Monsters Page 9
