Bad Billy didn’t tunnel to the surface until well after nightfall. He had traveled far underground from the trailer, and when his head emerged from the hole he saw nothing but woods. He lifted himself from the hole and walked across the forest floor, the sounds of crackling leaves stabbing into the silence as he moved over the floor of the forest.
The moon was out again, and silver light cascaded down between the trees.
Billy drifted across the forest for quite some time, unaware of anything other than the odd noises his only ear was trying to grow accustomed to. He heard a squirrel scampering across limbs, he heard the heartbeat of a resting sparrow, the soft treading of a red fox, and he couldn’t understand what was causing such disturbances. He was frightened now and looked around, half expecting to see a man lurking in the shadows.
Since Billy had become free, he had realized one thing without truly being able to comprehend it or express it in even the slightest terms: only man was to be truly feared for it was the most dangerous of animals.
Billy watched a stray dog trot off behind a clump of trees in the distance and saw a deer grazing on grass before it dawned on him that he had never been able to see such things before at night. His vision had improved remarkably. He was also breathing normal, and he no longer hurt anywhere. Billy smiled and shouted something incomprehensible in the darkness. A fluttering of wings, bats ascended from the trees, forming a huge dark cloud, fluttering away from his echoing voice as fast as possible.
Billy ran his hands over his face and no longer felt rough, cratered skin. It was now smooth. He reached for the hole where his left ear had been and let out a sharp grunt. His fingers traced an earlobe that had grown from the hole, and he smiled innocently at his discovery and chuckled happily as a toddler. He was awed by the sounds and feelings and new body. He felt so alive, so free, so…his stomach rumbled and a bitter gnawing sensation invaded his stomach. He was hungry. Blood hungry.
Billy sniffed the air, and a sudden scent made his mouth water. He started to run, letting his nose guide him to the meal. The trees started to speed by in blurs, and he felt panicked at the rate he was traveling. He glanced down and was surprised to see his feet were not touching the ground.
Through the trees was a clearing, and in the clearing Billy saw a deer stand. He floated to the top of a tree and sat on a branch without rustling a single leaf.
Still as stone, looking like a morbidly obese marble gargoyle on top of an ancient cathedral, Billy watched the man in the stand smoke his cigarette and finish his beer. He watched as the man lowered his rifle and stood up with an empty Gatorade bottle. He unzipped his fly and sighed as warm urine splashed into the plastic container.
Billy pounced then and landed on top of the deer stand, ripping through the cloth with sharp, black talons. The man screamed and jumped from the deer stand, completing a belly flop to the ground. He gasped for air, wheezing and clawed at the dirt, trying to regain his footing.
Billy landed on his back and there was a crack as the man’s spine shattered. He lifted back his massive head and sank his jaws into the back of the man’s neck, ripping out a chunk of flesh.
He devoured the flesh with rapid speed and lowered himself back into the blood and raw meat. His fangs sank into the meat, and he sucked the crimson life from the dying hunter.
Billy stood up, dizzy and exhausted. He walked to a tree, blood trailing down his face, drops hitting his massive belly. He leaned on the pine tree, and a sudden explosion in his mind forced him to his knees.
Suddenly he could see the hunter and his wife and their son. He could feel the woman hugging him tightly, telling him that she loved him. He could see the son asking him to borrow the Lincoln. Billy shook his head no. He could see his brothers and sisters and the Christmas tree and his father and mother. Billy could see his babysitter and his favorite dog Sparky (no other dog had meant as much to him since Sparky). “I love you,” his mother said, tucking him in goodnight, kissing him gently on the head. “Ready for Cub Scouts?” his father asked.
The visions flowed rapidly through his mind—parties, names and faces, lovers and friends— and he tried to shake them away. The hunter’s life was right in front of him. Billy watched it unfold unwillingly, just random thoughts, not realizing he was slowly beginning to comprehend what was being said or that he was crying and shouting words he had never spoken before.
And then the visions stopped and the noise ceased and he was alone in the dark forest. He curled himself into a fetal position in the field. His own memories started flowing back then, memories of pain and horror, of unspeakable acts. He saw his mother feeding him a stray dog, beating him with a belt. He saw his uncle hitting him. He saw the chains, the pile of bones, and the body of a man Uncle Ethan had rolled down the basement stairs. Billy had stared at the dead human being for days. No food had come during this time. And when he was to starving point he had no choice but….
And then all thoughts were gone from his mending mind and he was shivering, clutching his knees like a child. It was about an hour later when he caught the scent of something strange. It set his hair on end, and he stood up, survival instincts kicking in as he searched for the unknown danger lumbering towards him.
Billy lifted himself from the ground, grabbed a pine tree branch and climbed. He stared silently down below and watched as six massive wolves came into view. The beasts strolled right by his hiding place and four of them rushed to the slain hunter, tearing into the carcass, their snouts drenched in blood and their eyes burning a hellish red in the darkness.
Billy licked his lips as he watched them eat, the blood lust taking over. He could barely contain himself: soon it would be his turn to dine.
One of the wolves lifted its head from the meat and strolled away from the pack, the bushy tail waving back and forth joyously, its belly full.
Billy watched it leave its safety zone and silently followed it in the trees above as it roamed deeper into the woods, unsuspecting of any foul play. Billy grinned and felt the fangs against his lips, sharp and lethal.
The beast strolled across the forest until it reached a stream and lowered its head to drink.
Billy shot from a loblolly pine tree, and pine needles fell from the branches as his arms wrapped around the wolf. It lifted its massive head and howled out. Billy clamped his mouth on the throat of the beast and held it as it struggled, ferociously at first but then weaker and weaker, until there was no more blood and it lay limply in his grasp.
Billy released the wolf and it fell in a heap. He stood back from it, the blood warming his cold body, and he shouted.
The hair was receding from the beast, the bones cracking beneath the pink skin, the body shrinking. He was suddenly staring at a nude human being, the skin taught around the muscles, bloodless and pruned by the riverside.
His ears caught movement in the distance, and he heard a blood curdling bay close by. Instinct kicked in. He fled the scene, racing through the trees.
#
Ten wolves surrounded the body of their fallen comrade and looked to the biggest wolf, the jet black one, for guidance. Had it not have been for the moon, the wolf would have faded into the night except for the bright red eyes.
It stood up on its hind legs and let out a howl that quickly turned into a scream as it transformed from beast to man. GBI Agent Ben Hauser stood nude in the moonlight, staring down at his beloved Ashley.
“It’s Ashley,” his second-in-command whispered. “No big loss.”
Ben turned to the man. “What did you say?”
“I said no big –“
Hauser grabbed him by the throat and threw him across the river. He landed with a thud at the other side of the bank.
“Say it again!” Ben threatened. “Say it again, and I’ll destroy you!”
The second-in-command stood up and wiped dirt from his legs. He crossed the river and joined the rest of the pack.
“I didn’t realize Ashley meant so much to you. He was a sorry excuse f
or a werewolf.”
A tear rolled down Hauser’s cheek. “We loved each other,” he said.
“I can’t believe the Vampire Man got him. We’re the ones hunting him…it’s not supposed to be the other way around.”
“There’s only one thing to do right now,” Ben said.
“What’s that?”
“Get the sonofabitch!” He sniffed the air and immediately his eyes brightened. “He’s heading north.”
Hauser let the conversation die and shifted back into wolf form. With another sharp howl, he motioned his pack to follow him as he left his lover by the water and raced after the scent of the vampire. He had a feeling today was going to be unlucky because his plan for the pack to pose as GBI agents had gone by without a single problem except for the death of the police chief. It had been too easy getting past the law enforcement officers, and sneaking away with the chief’s body (which they’d devoured as soon as they were safely hidden) and he feared karma was going to pound him to the ground.
And how stupid was the chief, believing that he was in charge. The man had mentioned the death of his son. People usually never think rationally when a loved one dies. Ben remembered Ashley and could barely manage to keep himself together as he sped through the forest.
They had been hunting the Vampire Man for three years, ever since he’d shot their Head Leader’s daughter with a poisonous arrow, the silver tip releasing the immortality from her veins. He thought about Ashley then and fear almost caused him to quit running. He hadn’t realized vampires were capable of sucking the life force from werewolves. How strong must this creature be to clutch Ashley long enough to drain his blood? The Vampire Man had sucked him dry.
Ben growled as Ashley’s lifeless eyes returned to his thoughts. He increased his speed. The incident at the fairgrounds had made the 11 o’clock news, and he’d been the one watching it. He always watched the news at 11. What a coincidence that the Vampire Man was in Georgia. They had been in Florida this whole time wondering if he was still even in the USA. They’d come close twice before to capturing him, but his track always grew cold before he could be reached. Unfortunately for him, he had been too close this time.
Now, they were going to kill him, then eat as many people as they could before they vanished somewhere up north.
Ben ran across the forest floor, his tongue wagging and the red glow of his eyes burning.
#
The thoughts pierced through Billy like tiny daggers as he fled…and he felt he was going to be torn into shreds at any moment. He saw the blood and felt the change coming. He wanted to change. He desired it; his body craved it. He felt his bones breaking and heard the cracking as they elongated, as he turned into the wolf. His hands were the texture of leather, and he felt his tongue lash out and lick his hairy chin. He saw the jet black beast and the other gray ones feasting along with him on the dead. He didn’t know how he knew it was the Crusades, but he knew as he devoured the body in the sandy silence of the desert. And then he saw the Vampire Man running away, the Master’s daughter dying from the poisonous silver in her body. He saw the leader shout curses and demand that he and the black wolf bring the monster to justice…
Billy heard the howling and the images abruptly halted. He realized he was still running through the woods. He didn’t know how much time had passed since the visions had begun, but there was a clearing up ahead. He felt slow, lethargic. He reached the edge of the woods and spotted lights coming from a small house.
The hunger seized him then, his stomach growling. He could smell them inside their home.
Billy crossed the ground in utter silence and moved with lightning speed to the window. Through the glass he saw a woman at a table, a book in her hands. His stomach rumbled, and saliva fell in thick rivulets down his chin. He could hear the wolves baying in the distance, but the bloodlust was strong and he thought of only one thing.
Billy reared back and crashed through the window, shards of glass embedding themselves into the woman’s face. She let out a scream and he was upon her, eating the soft flesh. He was so caught up in feasting on her that he didn’t hear the door open.
“Get off my wife!” a man shouted. He flung himself on Billy’s back and tried with all his might to lift him from his dead beloved.
Billy wrapped a hand around the man’s arm and ripped it off. He held the arm in his hand and beat it against the man’s back. The man, howling curses, rolled off. Billy lifted himself from the woman and turned to face the husband.
“Go to hell,” the man grunted as he held his shoulder, blood spurting out between his fingers. Billy fell upon the wound and gulped down the blood until…
More visions…
He suddenly gasped. The little girl filled his thoughts…He was holding her hand at the fair, reaching into his wallet for a dollar bill. “Try to pop the balloons with the darts,” he explained to her, “and you’ll win a prize.” He laughed as she took the darts with an excited squeal. “I’m going to win, Daddy!” she said.
Billy shook himself away from the dreams, smelling the werewolves coming; they were right outside the door. He stood up and unsteadily made his way down the hallway. He could hear a heart beating in the rear bedroom…
“I love you so much, Laura.” The little girl looked at her mother as she held out her hand…a warm, motherly hand…and brushed loose strands of silky blond hair from her daughter’s forehead. “I love you too, Mommy,” the little girl said.
They were in the house. He could hear their claws as they moved across the yellow pine floors.
Billy opened the bedroom door and saw the child resting in her bed, softly snoring. He sat at the edge of the bed and gently shook her awake. “Laura,” he said in a hoarse voice.
She opened her eyes and screamed. Then recognition took over. “Hey Billy!” she said.
He grabbed her and rushed to the window and broke through the glass, shielding the little girl in his arms. They were outside then, Laura screaming and clutching him tightly.
“It’s okay,” he said, his voice as dry as the desert. And then he ran, for the demons were behind him. The little girl, slung over his shoulder, wailed as the trees flew by.
“Big dogs!” she screamed.
The werewolves were on their trail. Billy ran faster. He frowned and jumped a log barring his path. His feet didn’t hit the ground. He looked around, astonished that he was airborne. He looked to the stars and rose above the trees. The girl was no longer screaming.
She looked around, a smile on her face. “This is cool!” she shouted.
Billy looked down, and saw the werewolves running below him. He could see the water tower from the fairgrounds and headed there, chilly air blasting his face as he sped across the night sky.
He landed with no effort at the top of the tower and released the little girl. She walked to the edge and peered over it.
“This is scary,” she said. “I want to go home.”
Thoughts of her parents flooded through Billy, and he felt a sudden rush of guilt. He felt anger welling inside. Anger at himself. Anger at the wolves he could hear close by. Anger at the hunger that was growing inside of him. He looked at the little girl. The hunger was taking over, and he stepped to her, a wicked smile on his face. He raised his hands.
“Hey Billy,” the little girl said. “Can we go home?”
“We can’t go home,” he said. “It’s too late for that.”
The little girl’s eyes went wide. “Why can’t we go home, Billy?” Laura asked innocently.
Her blood smelled divine.
He could feel his fangs shifting in his gums.
A hand appeared on the edge of the tower, and Billy’s blood craze dimmed. Someone was about to climb up on top of the tower. He ran to the edge and pushed the little girl away from the hand.
He looked over and saw a man, his eyes blood red, staring at him. “You’re dead,” the man said.
Billy stepped on his hand, and the man screamed.
�
�Don’t!” he shouted.
Billy stepped on the other hand and the man went flying to the ground. He hit with a thud and the wolves below scattered. The man looked up.
“You’re gonna regret you ever did that, fucker!” He shouted to Billy from the ground, his body twisted at an odd angle.
Billy looked at the little girl. She was frightened, sitting silently at the center of the tower. He couldn’t believe he had almost killed her. He turned and looked at the man still lying on the ground. The guilt turned into rage.
“Stay there,” he told the little girl. “Don’t look.”
Billy jumped from the water tower, landing on the man, his huge fists ready to bash in his head.
The other werewolves were on him instantly, biting his flesh, raking his face with knife-like claws. He heard his left eyeball pop and screamed as he felt jaws clamp on his hands and arms. He felt one of the wolf’s teeth touch a bone, and then the teeth were extracted and implanted into his arm again. And then the arm fell off onto the ground.
The black wolf suddenly appeared in front of him, and Billy watched as he transformed. He stood well over six-foot, and he was as pale as marble, his hair a shiny raven hue in the moonlight.
The leader of the pack frowned slightly and Billy felt his wound tingle. He looked at his stump and saw with amazement a new hand budding from it. He felt it shoot out of the stump, a new wrist growing. Two of the werewolves behind him, in the form of man, grabbed his arms.
“Did you think we wouldn’t smell you on the water tower?” the leader said. “You should know better. You know how to dispose of us; you should know about our strengths. Scent is our most powerful weapon.” He grinned and Billy noticed the sharp row of fangs.
The frowned deepened on the man’s face. “You killed my partner,” he said. “His name was Ashley. You can apologize if you want to, but you’re going to die very painfully. I just wanted you to know that.” He raised his hands, and Billy watched the fingernails grow into claws. “Before I rip out your other eyeball and skin you with my bare hands, I just want to know one thing. What’s your name?”
Bad Billy Page 6
