Charlie Sullivan and the Monster Hunters: Council of the Hunters

by D. C. McGannon

  The fiery being gave a flippant, two-fingered salute to the Monster Hunters. “I would say adieu, but it doesn’t seem appropriate.” The presence surrounded Donnie, who suddenly seemed to be walking at an inhuman speed.

  Priest took off running after them.

  “Charlie!” called Lisa, as Charlie chased after the older hunter. He dove into the trees, hearing Fish and Dink crash through not long after.

  Up ahead, Priest called over his shoulder, “Stay back, lad! This is not a beast for you to face!”

  “I really don’t care about that right now!”

  The Irishman grunted, turning back to his chase.

  Charlie focused on the trails of negativity in the air—he couldn’t decide whether it was dark magic, intense emotions, or a mix of both. He began to spot other traces of the same rage and power on the ground. Trees had been burned in the evil presence’s retreat, along with animals who found themselves in its wake. Charlie felt sick to his stomach when he spotted mangled and smoldering squirrels, badgers, foxes, and birds, dead. The stench of char and death was overwhelming.

  He sprinted hard to catch up to Priest, dodging tree limbs along the way. Briefly, Charlie wondered why they hadn’t started descending the mountain yet. He glanced at Priest, keeping with the man’s pace.

  “You know what it is, don’t you?”

  “I could guess.”

  “How bad?”

  “If my assumptions were correct? It’s hard to find a deeper evil.”

  Behind them, Fish and Dink were trying to say something. A warning.

  Finally, Charlie caught the words, “the ledge!” and realized where they were running to. He clamped a hand on Priest’s arm and pulled them both to a stop, bracing himself against a solid tree trunk. A few feet more and they would have run off the edge of the mountain. Fish and Dink caught up with them, huffing.

  “Thanks,” Charlie squeezed in between breaths.

  Fish shook his head. “Where did the little brat go?”

  Charlie looked around with his Sight. Donnie and his so-called “friend” were far ahead. He pointed. “There.”

  The two were high in the air, hovering eerily, watching them through the treetops.

  “I expected you to just keep going,” said Donnie. “It’s funny. I thought this place was like your home away from home or something. Shouldn’t you know the layout a little better?”

  “What do you want, Donnie?”

  “Nothing much. Just wanted to see what you guys did up here all day. Oh, and the warning, but we already talked about that.”

  “You, boy,” said Priest, “Do you know what you’ve gotten yourself into? Do you know what that thing beside you is?”

  Charlie watched his elder friend carefully. He couldn’t remember ever hearing Priest’s voice tremble.

  “What, a demon? Sure I know. But it isn’t him you have to worry about. It’s me!”

  There was a flash of fire from Donnie’s hand, and Charlie’s Sight was overcome with a bright light. The ground beneath them trembled and trees crackled to life with fire as the hunters dove to avoid another fireball. In the confusion, Charlie felt himself begin to tumble forward—off the cliff. He flailed, grabbing at dirt and tree roots, finding no purchase.

  As random bits of vegetation slipped through his fingers, something grabbed him. His shoulder felt like it had been torn apart and glued back together. Charlie coughed, his lungs burning from the noxious smoke.

  “If you’re gonna do a swan dive,” Dink grunted from above, grabbing Charlie’s other hand as well, “then make sure there’s a lake under you.”

  Fish appeared, helping Dink pull Charlie up the rest of the way.

  “Thanks, guys. I think I would’ve been a goner.” He looked around, seeing charred trees and overturned earth, but no Donnie. “Where did he go?”

  Fish spat on the ground. Rarely did the man ever look so disgusted. “Little punk nearly killed us. He almost caught fire to the forest, too.”

  “Young Donnie Wickles has lost it, I’m afraid,” said Priest. He stood up, looking in the direction of the scorched earth.

  “What is it?” Charlie said, watching the man’s expression flicker. “What’s come to Hunter’s Grove?”

  “The most treacherous kind from the Otherworld. That, Charlie, was a demon from the belly of Hell itself.”

  Chapter 3

  Every moment involved a glance over the shoulder, the feeling of being watched. The enemy had entered their stronghold and left just as easily, without so much as a scratch. If the Key was no longer safe, then where? All of Hunter’s Grove had now become a potential battlefield.

  The day after their meeting, the hunters met on the school steps, the decorative stone lions looking down on them with mild disdain. It’s as though the statues knew—as though everyone knew—and the five heroes of Hunter’s Grove now felt the true weight of responsibility of protecting their town, their friends, and their families. The optimistic feeling of a new school year they shared yesterday was replaced with dread. They no longer felt like heroes, but completely helpless to do ... anything.

  They all shared a fearful look, begging the unspoken question, What do we do? This wasn’t the Otherworld. This monster could not simply be run through with a silver dagger.

  Charlie took a deep breath, the cool morning air sending a chill through his body. He took the first concrete step toward the school’s larger-than-life front doors with some confidence, and more than a little frustration, as his friends fanned out behind him. They crashed through the doors as if they were bursting into the Dark Prince’s Blood Castle once again.

  A few upperclassmen turned, giving them strange looks, otherwise, the hallway was the same as any other day. Charlie Sullivan and the Monster Hunters were simply several needles in the haystack of hallway chaos. As much as being treated like ordinary students felt “normal” to them, it did nothing to keep their confidence, or egos, inflated at a time when they were already feeling defeated. Their second day of high school, had already sucked the air out of their lungs, and they hadn’t even made it to homeroom.

  Charlie flinched before realizing it was Lisa brushing against his arm. She broke away from the group, diving into the mass of pushing, yelling, and flirting students. Liev followed close behind. A few girls turned to watch him as he passed by.

  “Keep an eye out,” Charlie said to Darcy and Nash before they walked to their lockers.

  Nash nodded. “If I run into Donnie, you’ll hear it.”

  Charlie resisted the urge to use his Sight in the halls—flashing blood-red eyes in front of everyone was not his idea of starting high school on a good note. He pulled his hood further down over his eyebrows and made his way through the crowd.

  His locker was dented and scratched, the hideous green paint peeled off by whatever had defaced it. Charlie opened it and his stomach turned, and he quickly slammed it shut again.

  A wolf’s head had been hung on the bag hook inside, it’s dead lips fixed into a snarl. Charlie spun and found Lisa, Liev, Nash, and Darcy in the crowd. They were watching him with the looks of disgust and anger evident on their faces. Charlie let the Sight rip through his skull. Hundreds of bodies moved with life around him, its own sort of magic. His team revealed their own magic as well, four very distinct human beings that stood out in the crowd. The one he was looking for, though ...

  There, in the middle of the stairs, was Donnie, standing with a man in a black leather jacket. Charlie couldn’t help but wonder at Donnie’s appearance with the Sight. There was a magical turbulence about him, like a war going on inside him, whatever had infiltrated Donnie’s being was either merging with or destroying his true nature.

  The bell rang—a shrill command to get moving, or else—scattering the majority of students in the direction of their homeroom classes. The hunters stood still as the hallway emptied of the student body. Charlie blinked, watching Donnie without the Sight. The bully smiled at them and waved, turning to blend with
another group of students climbing to classrooms on the second floor, the man in black disappearing altogether.

  “I swear I’m going to wipe this floor with his face,” Nash said loud enough for all to hear, sending some passers-by on their way with more urgency.

  Charlie shook his head, still glaring at the stairs. “Just don’t let him get to you. We can’t really fight this at school.”

  “I’ve punched him out at school before.”

  Charlie gave his friend a look. “It’s a little different now. Just ignore him as best as you can for now. We’ll figure out how to deal with him.”

  The others nodded, but he wasn’t sure whether he was reassuring them, or himself.

  By lunchtime, the group had relaxed a little. The day was going well. Nash and Darcy bickered lightly about the flirty girl in the hallway.

  The cafeteria was noisy and Charlie pulled his jacket tighter, looking through the crowd as best as he could for threats.

  “You look like you just walked into a coven of witches,” Lisa whispered, half-joking. “Breathe a little, take your jacket off!”

  “I’m fine,” he snapped, pulling away and wading into the lunch line. Behind him, Darcy shot Lisa a look that asked What’s up?, but the darkly-clad, laced and studded, fashion-eccentric girl simply moved on.

  They managed to keep something of an appetite while filling their platters, although they were effectively less hungry than before.

  “I can’t wait to get my hands on that guy,” muttered Nash when they reached their table.

  Darcy nodded. “I think we all feel that way right now.” She pulled a bottled iced-coffee from her purse and popped the lid.

  “Hey, you can’t bring that in the cafeteria.”

  Her eyebrow rose. “Since when do you follow the rules?”

  Just then, Donnie walked by, lunch tray in hand. They didn’t see him until it was too late and he was patting Liev on the back.

  “You guys look all cool, with your own table. I would ask to sit down, but I’m sure the answer would be the same as always. ‘Go away, Donnie, you don’t belong with us.’” He did his best imitation of Charlie, ducking his head a little.

  “I’m sorry you feel that way,” Darcy said, although everyone could tell she wasn’t. “Maybe when you grow up and stop vandalizing school lockers like a sick little kid, we’ll trust you.”

  He laughed, leaning in between the twins, who both looked like they were about to turn into werewolves.

  “I don’t care about getting into your little club. I’ve got what I want now.”

  “New power?” asked Charlie. “For old targets? Is that all you’ll ever be, Donnie, the schoolyard bully?”

  Donnie slammed his hand down on the table, smoke drifting out from underneath his palm. Some of his food fell from the tray, lost in the disruption. “Don’t underestimate me, Charlie Sullivan.”

  Charlie sat still, upright, deceivingly calm. “We’re trying to help you, Donnie. That thing? It isn’t your friend, it’s not your power, and it is not your ticket to fame. It’s a demon. A dangerous monster with no love for humans like you or me. It will be your end. Don’t do this. End this before it gets out of hand.”

  It was shocking to see the look of misery over Donnie’s face, even for just the split second that Charlie could.

  “Oh, I’m going to end it all right. But not before I’ve had a little fun. Hey, it was good to see you, wolf boy. Oops, sorry, the school doesn’t know about that, do they? I’ll be sure and keep the news mum. But really, glad you’re back. We all thought you were gone for good. These guys were like the only heroes left standing when they came back the first time.”

  Charlie was gripping the lunch table’s edge. He was ready for anything, just in case, noticing Liev’s new “tattoo” quivering and writhing its way from underneath his bright white T-shirt. It was the sign that his wolf genes were starting to wake up. Charlie stood when Lisa’s voice stopped him cold.

  “Get. Your hand. Off. Of my brother.” A black tendril of energy flicked out from her, slapping Donnie’s hand and leaving an angry red line across his knuckles.

  The bully pulled his hand back, rubbing it out with a snicker. The quick movement drew the attention of nearby tables. The tension rippled through the cafeteria.

  Donnie looked around and grinned before turning back and glaring at the group. “Trust me. I don’t want to hurt Liev. Enjoy your lunch. While you still can.”

  “While you still can?” Liev muttered. “How cheesy. I mean, like ... James Bond villain cliché, dude.”

  The others watched him with concern. Despite playing off Donnie’s threats, they could all see the air around him humming with anger, his shoulders tightening, stretching his white T.

  Across the table, Nash swallowed his own fury for the sake of his friend. “I guess even a demon can’t help you talk smooth.”

  They all laughed, pulling glances from students around them again. Donnie, rebuffed, said nothing else as he backed away from the table. His frustration ate at him, but he knew he was outmatched here, in this environment.

  Darcy sighed. “I guess it was too much to ask for school to be normal.”

  “Since when did you stop liking the attention?” Lisa asked with a chuckle. Nash snorted, quickly receiving a punch in the arm by Darcy. An audible thunk, and Nash’s wince, told them she’d just used her gift.

  They lapsed into silence around the table, picking at their lunch. Lisa peeked at the others while pushing her hardened form of a meatloaf back and forth. The same questions were etched on each face. Finally, she looked up at Charlie, where he sat eyes down, staring at his food, not moving.

  “So what do we do?” she asked for all of them.

  He looked up, and she could see the fear and frustration inside him.

  “We take one thing at a time,” he said, looking through her without actually looking away. “First, the council. If Donnie wants to try and attack while they’re here, then by all means, let him. It’ll be one less thing for us to worry about. I’m sure the council can deal with one demon.”

  Chapter 4

  “I’m fine, Lisa, just give me a moment.”

  Liev leaned into the bathroom door, locking it behind him and stumbling into the sink.

  Outside, Lisa sighed. Her twin brother was not fine, and she knew it. His curse tattoo had been slowly sliding down one arm and up his neck for the last hour. Every time they passed another classmate, his shoulders became more tense, and his breathing heavier.

  She folded her arms, leaned against the wall and shot looks at anyone who passed by. Even the junior and senior students kept their distance. The Vadiknov twins had a reputation that carried over from middle school, and no one wanted to test that reputation here.

  Beyond the door, Liev splashed a handful of not-cold-enough water over his face. He glared at the mirror, forcing himself to take deep breaths as the silver hue dissipated from his eye.

  Every smell, every sound—every sense—had become an overwhelming assault on his mind and body after lunch. It didn’t help that he was hungry, extremely hungry.

  It’s funny, he thought. Last year, I thought our teacher was the werewolf. He tried to grin at his reflection, tried to find himself again, but couldn’t.

  Something sizzled, and the mirror cracked—a spider web popping from one corner to another. Liev’s breath caught in his throat as he jumped, shoulders tensing, his skin bristling with energy and heat.

  “It’s just not the same as it was, is it?”

  No one reflected in the cracked mirror. Liev spun around, his ears pinpointing the bully’s location, catching the heavy scent of fire and charred flesh. The door was locked. How did he get in here?

  “You look good, man. All feral, and in white, like some sort of anti-hero. I don’t see why you keep it locked up.”

  Liev growled. Coughed. Tried speech again. “What do you want?”

  “I don’t want anything from you.”

  Liev t
ried to grab Donnie by the throat, but the ruffian’s skin seared his palms. Horrified, Liev tightened his grip, but Donnie’s neck melted into fire, flames licking across his entire body until Donnie was the image of a man wrought in wildfire. Liev gasped, his hand singeing as he pulled back.

  Donnie—or rather, the demon—smiled, his cheek flaring with the movement.

  “This next part might hurt a little.”

  The demon raised a finger, and jabbed it into Liev’s chest. He held it there, pushing forward as Liev tried to back away, burning his hands as he swatted through the flames. His white T-shirt ignited, fibers spreading black, red, and orange as they began to catch. Liev took another step back, grunting as the pain etched its way over his chest and hands. His foot met the wall, he could go no further, and he’d had enough.

  His next thoughts were chaos, consciousness was a struggle. Claws, and arms that were no longer human, ripped through fire. The demon, laughing. The sound annoyed Liev, now the wolf. The hellion’s sarcasm and laughter rang through the room, driving Liev to a furious attack, snapping, clawing—a blood-thirsty rage consuming his mind, uninhibited and without concern for who, or where, he was.

  “That’s it, kid. Let it out.” And then, the fiery figure was gone.

  Lisa could hear something was wrong. At first, she knocked on the door, but as moments passed, her panic grew. It sounded like Liev had been talking to someone, and not in a friendly manner. What would he do if he lost his temper? She shook her head. Liev was strong, he can resist any urge to change. He survived weeks of living with the wolves, after dying, while holding on to his humanity.

  And then she heard the inhuman growl. Lisa forgot about everyone in the hallway and pushed on the door. It didn’t budge.

  “Oh, it’s one of Darcy’s new pals,” Caitlin said, passing by with a group of friends. She added in a whisper, “The witchy one.” Turning toward Lisa, with a demeaning smirk, “That’s the boy’s room, hon. Girl’s room is over there.”