The Monster Games

by Flint Maxwell

  “What deal?” I asked.

  “The deal is not a good one and it is not a fair one,” Fizzler said. “But the committee has granted us access to the Games, allowing us to compete.”

  It was hard to imagine Fizzler or any of his kind losing in a violent combat sporting event, but judging by his trembling chin—if you can call it a chin—the prospect of the Monster Games and his species’ extinction was enough to turn him into petrified jelly. I didn’t blame him.

  But the idea of the Monster Games scared me, too, and being a savior of an entire species? That was more pressure than I was prepared to take on.

  “And?” Maddie asked.

  “Shit, there’s more?” Zack said. “As if this wasn’t enough.”

  “Yes, Call-Me-Zack,” Fizzler said. “The rest of my kin have poured over the ancient scrolls, the ones regarding the rules of the Games, and have found a loophole. The loophole allows us to volunteer someone else in our stead to compete in the Games.”

  “And you want us?” I asked.

  “How is this a loophole?” Maddie asked. “I’m sure a ton of other competitors would nominate others in their stead.”

  “Yes, that is sound logic,” Fizzler said. “However, it is a loophole because it must be of a lesser species.”

  “Ah,” I said, understanding, “what’s the lowest species of them all?”

  “Why, Abe, it’s the humans,” Fizzler said. He said it as nonchalantly as a man telling you the time.

  Zack and Maddie were glaring at him, though, obviously not amused.

  “I do not mean that as an insult, my friend,” Fizzler added. “I only speak the basic facts. Humans are the lowest of the cognizant organisms qualified to enter the Games.”

  “I don’t know why you think that,” Zack said. “Humans are pretty great. I mean, like, think of all the great humans out there. There’s Neil Armstrong and Kurt Vonnegut and…uh…a bunch of others. Maddie, help me out.”

  “Isaac Newton, Abe Lincoln, Martin Luther King Jr, George Washington, Rosa Parks, so many people!” Maddie said.

  “So many!” I added.

  “Oh, I know,” Fizzler said. “We gaslings know all about our scale-less ancestors. I’ve taken quite an interest in the human race. The loophole is the fact that I know humans are stronger than they are given credit for. I know with the humans on our side—with the Fright Squad on our side—we have a really good chance at winning the Monster Games and keeping our species alive and strong.”

  “There’s only a few of you,” Zack said.

  “Yes, a few. However, Fred is near the end and Gizzler was born with…certain mental deficiencies. I fear we will be only a couple soon enough,” Fizzler said.

  I thought he had said Fred. I wasn’t exactly sure. It didn’t exactly go with the other names.

  “I’m sorry,” Maddie said.

  The gasling smiled. “Oh no, don’t worry. Fred has had quite a life. He was leader of our kind until very recently, and Gizzler is the most kindhearted gasling I’ve ever known.”

  I cut in before Fizzler could go on. “So,” I said, “let me try to piece this together. Tell me if I’m wrong. Your species lives near the place they are holding these Monster Games, an ancient and confusing and often violent Olympics for all sorts of creatures, and if your species wins the event—which is, from the vibe I’m getting, a long shot—the Monster Games’ committee will pull their plans of draining your swamp off the table, which, in turn, will stop your species from going extinct.”

  “Correct—” Fizzler began, but I kept going on.

  “But your species is not violent and savvy enough to even have much of a chance in the Games so you’ve offered us—the Fright Squad—to compete in your place because of a loophole that lets a lesser species, such as humans, put their lives on the line.”

  I paused and looked at Fizzler. He stared at me blankly, his webbed hands on his knees.

  “Does that sound about right, Gilly?” Zack said.

  The skin above Fizzler’s eyes bunched up. He had no eyebrows but I figured this was his way of arching one in confusion.

  “Gilly?” Fizzler asked.

  “Like the Gill-man,” Maddie said. “Don’t listen to him. He’s not the brightest of the bunch. Nor is he the politest.”

  “Ah, I get it,” Fizzler said, “that was a joke. Am I correct in assuming this?” He looked back at Maddie, a searching gaze in his eyes. “Tell me, Ms. Pepper, why do you choose to mate with Mr. Call-Me-Zack if he is, as you say, not the brightest or politest?”

  Oh, nice, Gilly. You nailed that one.

  Silence. Talk about awkward.

  Maddie chuckled, breaking it. “We don’t—you know…” She raised a hand, flipped her hair up from her neck. “Is it getting hot in here?”

  Zack’s face was as red as a firetruck, even I could see this out of the corner of my eyes. “Yeah…we don’t— It’s complicated, Gilly. Let’s leave it at that.”

  At that moment, I wished I could’ve been anywhere else. Even back in Perdition Cemetery with a tangle of tentacles spilling out of a dark void, trying to squeeze my head off. Well, maybe nothing that drastic but close enough. If I felt like that, I couldn’t imagine what Maddie and Zack were feeling like.

  “What is complicated about that?” Fizzler said. “My species emits a pheromone around mating season. This pheromone allows us to seek out others interested in mating. Then we mate.”

  “Humans are a little more intricate than that,” Maddie said. “Sometimes…they like to wait for the…” she trailed off.

  “For the girl’s parents to be out of town with no chance of coming back and interrupting the, uh, mating,” Zack finished and I knew for a fact that wasn’t how Maddie was going to conclude her thought.

  I wished I could’ve told Zack he was only digging himself a deeper hole he’d have to climb out of, but I thought that ship had sailed a long time ago.

  “Why don’t one of you dispose of the parents?” Fizzler said. “I believe that would simplify the situation.”

  Fizzler was really living up to the whole cold-blooded thing.

  “No, Fizzler,” Maddie said. Her face matched the shade of Zack’s cheeks. She looked at me for an answer because her boyfriend certainly wasn’t going to offer her one.

  All I could do was shrug. When I got up that morning, I didn’t think explaining human copulation to a Gill-man would be on the agenda for the day. This just goes to show you everyday on the Fright Squad was a mystery. Sometimes good…mostly bad.

  “The human mating rituals are often sacred and reserved for pleasure as opposed to reproduction,” Maddie said.

  “You mean one mates and no eggs are traded?” Fizzler asked.

  “Well…not always,” Maddie answered.

  Zack, still flaming red, said, “A lot of humans go out of their way to prevent reproduction.”

  Fizzler laughed his terrible laugh again. This time, I saw it coming. When one was about to escape his throat, his chest, beneath the scaled, slimy flesh rippled. As it had done then. I plugged my ears.

  “Humans,” he said. “Always a mystery.”

  “Yeah…” Maddie said.

  “Not even we know what the hell we’re about,” I said, figuring I should add at least something to the conversation, then quickly added: “Back to the question: Does that about do it, what I said earlier about your offer and the Games? Is that right?”

  “Yes, you are correct, Abe,” Fizzler answered. He wiped his hands along his thighs. The noise this motion made was like sneakers on a gym floor. I wondered, was this nervousness?

  “We’ll have to think about it,” I said.

  “No, we won’t,” Zack said. “There’s no way we’re doing this, risking our lives. Nothing can change that.”

  Fizzler brought one of his hands to his chin and said, “What if I were to tell you that the winner of the Monster Games would win their weight in gold?”

  Zack stepped forward, took Fizzler’s hand in
his own, shook it. “Well then, my gilly friend, I’d say we have a deal!”

  “Wait a second,” I said. “Our weight in gold?”

  “Yes, Abe, your weight in gold— No, never mind,” Fizzler said. I knew it was too good to be true. “It would technically be our—the gaslings’—weight in gold, but gold is worthless to our kind so the gold will be yours to keep and do with what you please.”

  “Shit, guys,” Zack said. “Sidebar?”

  “What?” I said.

  “Sidebar? You know like a team meeting? Group huddle?” Zack asked.

  “Just say that then,” Maddie said. “We don’t have to be coy.”

  “I mean, Fizzler probably doesn’t care much for secrets or anything like that,” I said. “No offense.”

  “Oh, none taken,” Fizzler said, smiling.

  So we walked closer to the door and talked in low whispers.

  “Dudes,” Zack said, “this could be huge! Those things are, like, five hundred pounds, easily. That’s a shitload of gold.”

  “Yeah…but we could die,” Maddie said. “How much are our lives worth, Zack?”

  “Pitch out a number,” Zack replied. Then immediately belted out an “Ouch!” after Maddie hit him. She was getting quite good at seeking out Zack’s soft spots, but hey, what are girlfriends for, right?

  “Abe?” Maddie said. “Please talk some sense into Zack.”

  I hesitated. Never hesitate when side-barring with Maddie. She can smell blood.

  “Oh, don’t tell me you’re considering it, too, Abe. Are you serious?”

  I shrugged. “That’s a lot of gold, Maddie,” I said.

  “Thank you!” Zack said. “A lot of gold that could keep us in business for a long time. Maybe we could finally get out of this smelly place and rent an honest-to-God office somewhere.”

  “It’s suicide. We studied all about the Monster Games. They’re brutal,” Maddie said.

  “Maybe not anymore,” I said. “For all we know it could be one massive pillow fight.”

  “Man, I’m good at pillow fights,” Zack said. “Let’s hope that’s the case.” As soon as the words left his mouth he tensed up, expecting one of Maddie’s trademark punches. It never came.

  “No pillow fights, I’m afraid,” Fizzler said. “At least I don’t believe so. The details of the Games have yet to be released.”

  I nodded. That wasn’t good. They were right around the corner and if we were going to enter, we’d have to train and get in shape, not to mention mentally prepare for the grueling tasks that often resulted in a vampire holding the head of a troll during the Closing Ceremonies. I pictured Zack or Maddie’s head in Vladimir Spires’ hand instead of the trolls. Heck, even mine. It was not a good image.

  “I think this could be really big,” Zack said.

  “Yeah, you already said that,” Maddie added.

  Zack looked back at me. “Abe? Please weigh in.”

  I let a moment pass while I gathered my thoughts. Then I spoke up.

  “We can at least poke around a bit more, find out,” I said. “Really, it’s not about the gold with me.” I glanced over our huddled shoulders and looked at Fizzler. He was a bit scary, yeah, but from a physiological standpoint he was quite a spectacular specimen, and, I’ll admit, a nice fellow despite his looks. It would be a shame if his species died out because of some Monster Games committee wanting to expand their operations to a swamp.

  “Gold,” Slayer whispered, his eyes still glued to the TV screen.

  “You heard the goblin!” Zack said.

  I ignored this. A question for Fizzler arose in my mind. “Didn’t you tell the committee your case? That your species wouldn’t survive being uprooted by their expansions?”

  Fizzler’s chest rippled again. It was like snakes writhing above his breastbone. I thought of Buddy Wolverton, of the little tentacles that had grown into big tentacles that had exploded out of him.

  No tentacles erupted from Fizzler, though. All that came was his booming laughter, and of all the things for him to find humorous, I didn’t think it would have been this.

  “How funny!” Fizzler said. His voice shook my one window in its frame, a sort of vibrating sound. I was afraid it might shatter on the spot—or, God forbid, my TV screen. At least I could wrap myself in a blanket to beat the cold coming in from a broken window. I didn’t exactly have enough money to spare on a new television—and it certainly wouldn’t be a business expense I could write-off. Unfortunately. Slayer might go crazy if he didn’t have a TV.

  “Wait, what’s funny?” Maddie asked. “What Abe asked you?”

  Fizzler’s laughing stopped abruptly. “Was that not a joke?”

  I shook my head. “They should be receptive to your kind, shouldn’t they? They are, after all, monsters themselves, aren’t they?”

  Fizzler said, “Yes, but they do not care for us. They do not like us in the monster community. I suppose I cannot blame them.”

  “Don’t say that!” Maddie said, and for the first time, I noticed she looked completely relaxed, completely comfortable in the gasling’s presence. Because she crossed the room, went around the coffee table, and set her hand on Fizzler’s shoulder. “You are worth more than any committee could ever give you credit for.”

  Zack and I exchanged a glance, one that said maybe it wasn’t the best idea for Maddie to go and put her hand that close to Fizzler’s mouthful of jagged teeth. But, then again, Maddie was Maddie. I’d seen her take down a ghoul with just her bare hands a while back. If anyone was in danger in this instance, it was Fizzler Bondano.

  I hoped.

  “No, I’m afraid not,” Fizzler said. “They think of us as lesser beings. We do not wreak havoc among the masses, we are not predisposed to hating humans, and we do not participate in monster politics.”

  Right, I thought, there’s that whole thing about monsters and humans not getting along—and politics, which were always a surefire way to make someone mad.

  “That’s a good thing,” Maddie said. “Being your own person, I mean.”

  Fizzler smiled up at her and put one of his hands over hers. “Thank you,” he said. Another silence settled over the apartment.

  I looked at Zack then I looked at Maddie. They gave no answer.

  “Fizzler,” I said, turning my gaze on him.

  “Yes, Abe?”

  “We’ll think about it, but you have to quit following us around,” I said. “It’s dangerous. You might be seen. People won’t understand what they’re seeing and when people don’t understand things, they panic and they might hurt you.”

  Frankenstein’s Monster came to mind.

  “Oh,” Fizzler said. “I see…”

  “Where are you staying?” Maddie asked.

  “Currently, I am staying in the Cuyahoga River while I’m in the great, as you say, Buckeye State, but I will now travel back to the swamps,” Fizzler answered.

  “Give us a couple days,” I said. “Don’t go back yet. We’ll have your answer soon enough.”

  Fizzler stood up. He towered over me and as he got closer I felt like I was shrinking and shrinking until I was the size of a peanut. “Thank you, Abe,” he said. He stuck out his hand. I figured it couldn’t be any worse than shaking hands with a ghost like I had done with Mr. Jones at the church in Helltown, so I accepted his handshake. Spoiler alert: It was worse. Painful. The gasling was strong. My bones ground together and I winced, trying not to show how much agony I was in. Then he let go and I could’ve screamed out in joy.

  “You’re welcome,” I managed, already trying to figure out how we were going to get the monster from my apartment back to the Cuyahoga River without anyone seeing him, and as I was thinking this, the gasling took a step back, looked up to the ceiling, and blinked out of existence. He left behind a salty, gaseous smell and two large webbed footprints in my carpet.

  7

  Decisions

  “We should’ve said yes,” Zack said. He sat by Maddie now on the couch, glad t
hat the monster was gone, I think. He put his arm around her and she slyly slid away from it.

  “No,” Maddie said. “This is a big decision. This is life or death.”

  “Plus it’s sponsored by the Saber Corporation,” I said.

  I had remembered them. They were a company that had gotten rich off of death. They specialized in warfare.

  “Isn’t that the shady company that supplied the fighters in the Monster Uprising of 1890?” Zack said.

  “You do pay attention!” Maddie said, smiling.

  Zack blushed.

  “I thought they were gone. Disbanded,” Zack said. “BEAST put a stop to them in the mid 1900s.”

  “Apparently not,” I said. “Maybe they’re not as sinister as they once were.”

  “Doubt it,” Maddie said. “But does it matter who sponsors the Games? The point is we’d die.”

  I went over to the window and opened it. A flood of cold air came in while a flood of stench left. I’d much rather be cold than constantly inhaling the salty stink of a gasling. I sat down on the couch’s arm and said, “It’s not life and death if we’re successful.”

  “Yeah, right,” Maddie said.

  “Hey, hear Abe out. I’m curious…” Zack obviously hadn’t paid attention in the Academy when they went over the unit on the Monster Games, and you were more likely to find a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow than to see Zack in a library with an open book in front of his face.

  Maddie, on the other hand, shook her head. She knew what I was getting at.

  “It’s been over two-hundred years since those accounts of the Games. They could’ve changed the rules, the format, the tasks—we just don’t know,” I said.

  “No, Abe. Absolutely not,” Maddie replied.

  Zack sat up straighter and scratched his head. “Wait a second, what’s going on? It’d be nice if you let me in on the secrets. I’m part of the Fright Squad, too.”

  Maddie faced him, spoke very slow and deliberate so Zack would understand. I thought he might take this the wrong way, might be offended by it, but as Maddie spoke, Zack’s eyes lit up…with understanding. “Abe is talking about the old rules of the Games,” she said. “Throughout the years, the last task had always remained the same. If you survived the previous two, then your team was automatically entered in task three.”