The Monster Beneath the Bed: A Moonshine Wizard Story

by Phillip Drayer Duncan

“This isn’t funny!” Bert said.

  “No, you’re right, Bert,” Sharp said, excited. “He, or they, are underestimating you. All they know is about how you broke their decoy. Hell, they probably know how long it took you. But they don’t know you were out of practice and I was walking you through it. They don’t know about me or Neil, either.”

  “Okay?” Bert asked. “So, what do you want me to do?”

  “Just be yourself and wreck the fuck out of everything. As soon as he shows up, hit him with everything you’ve got.”

  “You keep switching between he and they. Am I up against one or a hundred?”

  “Only one is coming through, but the stronger ones tend to work in packs. They draw their magic together. Picture a bunch of demons sitting around a fire chanting. The creepy part is they can probably all see you right now, so try not to look so scared.”

  “Neil!” Bert used his mind to call out to his friend again.

  “I’ll be in the room in half a--”

  “No!” Bert stormed. “Wait in the hall!”

  “Okaaaay,” Neil responded.

  “Just wait and get ready to bring the wind! I’ll tell you when!”

  “Understood.”

  The air began to thicken around him as the magical energy built. Bert felt like he was standing in a pot of stew. He suspected his new friend was about to arrive.

  To confirm his suspicions, Sharp said, “Here he comes.”

  A black slit appeared in the air above Tommy’s bed, as though it were tearing right through the fabric of reality. The gap began to widen and spread, the road between worlds opening.

  As the blackness spread, two huge crimson hands with long talons grasped the sides of the magical doorway. In horrid fascination, Bert realized the monster was literally pulling itself through into his world.

  Next came the horns. They looked like they belonged on the head of a bull, and were every bit as long as Bert’s arm. As they appeared through the darkness, a set of yellow eyes blinked at him.

  Then the face slipped through. It was humanish, but horrifyingly grotesque. Just like Sharp has said, it was a fucking demon. Its flesh was a dark crimson and scaled. Its eyes were huge, yellow, and slit like a cat’s. Its nose was long and sharp. Thick black horse-like hair flowed around its horned head.

  Was this what Tommy had seen? No wonder the little dude was terrified. Hell, Bert wasn’t sure he’d be able to sleep again.

  The Kraelin licked its red lips with a forked tongue, showing Bert a glimpse of its razor-pointed teeth.

  “Keep it together, Bert,” Sharp said. “Remember, your fear gives it power.”

  “It must be feeling really powerful, then,” Bert replied. “Because I’m scared shitless.”

  As it stepped the rest of the way through, Bert realized just how damn big it was, too. The Kraelin had to crouch to keep its horns from poking through the ceiling. Its body was clad in a mismatch of black armor, making it look a bit like a tank.

  “Jeebus,” Sharp said. “This has to be one of the most powerful Kraelins I’ve ever seen.”

  “Can I be afraid yet?” Bert asked.

  “Fuck no! Attack it. Take a few pop shots while I work out a plan. Let’s keep it thinking you’re weak.”

  “That shouldn’t be hard.”

  At least Sharp’s plan to make a plan would let him relieve some anxiety. It was the build up before a fight that always got to him. In the action, he was good to go.

  Bert summoned a bolt of lightning and pelted the Kraelin in the chest. He put just enough juice behind it to kill the average human.

  The Kraelin didn’t even blink. In fact, it started to laugh. The sound was so awful and loud, Bert was sure Tommy and his mother must’ve heard it from the living room. Well, she had asked him to make it seem real, hadn’t she?

  Bert fired another lightning bolt with equal success.

  In response, the Kraelin raised a clawed hand and fired a blast of raw energy at Bert. Even at full strength, it ripped right through his shield. Bert tumbled backward into Tommy’s closet, yanking down children’s clothes as he went. He landed atop a junk pile and quickly regained his feet.

  “You know how you told me to make him ‘think’ I’m weaker than him?” Bert asked Sharp.

  “Yeah.”

  “It’s working really well,” Bert said. “I thought you said he wouldn’t be at full strength?”

  “He isn’t.”

  “Okay, great,” Bert replied, choking down his fear. The Kraelin just stared at him with amusement spread across its demonic cheeks. “So, how’s that plan coming?”

  “Just calm your man boobies,” Sharp said. “You’re making very difficult for me to shield your mind.”

  “Wait, what?” Bert asked. “You can do that?”

  “Not directly,” Sharp explained. “But I am discreetly blocking his ability to feed off your fear. If I wasn’t, he would be gaining his full power much quicker. As it stands, he still must think he needs to make you more afraid. As long as that lasts, we’re buying time. As soon as he realizes that you’re toying with him, he’ll probably just go ahead and kill you.”

  “Sharp, I’m not toying with him,” Bert said. “He’s already too powerful for me.”

  As soon as the thought was transmitted, his body lifted into the air without his permission. Bert was floating. “See?”

  The Kraelin hurled him against the wall. Not hard enough to damage him or the wall, just enough to rattle him. The creature wanted him to be afraid. It wanted him to know how helpless he was. It slammed him against another wall then dropped him.

  Bert hit the floor and Sharp said, “You’re doing great, little buddy. Just hang in there.”

  Bert grumbled and struggled to his feet once more, only to be knocked down again.

  “I mean, you can try to attack back,” Sharp said. “You don’t have to let him toss you around.”

  “How’s that plan coming?”

  “I’m just trying to search for a weak spot in the connection. These Kraelin are tricky. They don’t come all the way through until they are confident they have their full power. His body might be on this side, but he’s still got a foot in the door, so to speak.”

  “And…how…does…that…help…us?” Bert asked, as the Kraelin used magic to dribble his head against the floor like a basketball.

  “I’m glad you asked,” Sharp replied, as though he were giving a seminar. “If I can find his lifeline, we can activate it and force him back through.”

  “Sounds good,” Bert replied as he staggered to his feet again. “No rush or anything.”

  Then an unseen force yanked Bert across the room and right to the Kraelin. Talons gripped the front of his shirt and he heard the fabric tear as the creature pulled him until their faces were only inches apart. The Kraelin’s breath smelled like rotten death sprayed from a skunk’s ass.

  The Kraelin raised a scaled eyebrow at him. “The wiiizzard doesss not fear asss he should…”

  “Uh oh,” Sharp said.

  “Uh oh?” Bert replied. “Why 'uh oh'?”

  “Just stall for a few more seconds.”

  Bert looked into the eyes of the Kraelin and summoned every ounce of his courage. “Maybe you don’t fear me as much as you should.”

  The Kraelin threw its head back and laughed. “What iss your name, wiiizzard?”

  “Waylon Drake,” he replied. “Remember it, big fella.”

  “Got it!” Sharp said. “Now, Bert! Hit him with everything you’ve got!”

  Bert summoned all the power he could muster. Rather than trying to hit the Kraelin, he hit himself. His shirt ripped in half as he sailed back from the monster’s grasp. He landed in the closet again.

  Rolling back up to his feet, he spoke to Sharp. “Now, do whatever you’re going to do!”

  Bert summoned the nastiest lightning bolt he could manage and hurled it at the Kraelin. It didn’t seem to hurt the beast, but a surprised look came across his face. He didn’
t wait, but fired again, putting everything he had into it. Again, the Kraelin looked at him with surprise. It smiled at him again.

  “Use me, stupid!” Sharp cried.

  Bert looked at his sword and realized that it was glowing with a purple hue. Drawing back his arm, he threw it at the Kraelin. The blade twirled through the air and plunged into the monster’s chest.

  The Kraelin stumbled backward and stared at his chest, a terrible scream ripping from its lips. Bert fired another lightning bolt while at the same time drawing his six-gun and firing it into the Kraelin’s chest as well. He didn’t know what would work, but he was throwing the buffet at it.

  “Tell Neil to go now!” Sharp screamed.

  Bert called out loud to Neil, screaming, “Now!”

  The door burst open and Neil stepped in, his face glowing with Native American sigils. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw the Kraelin, but he didn’t hesitate. Bert knew he’d been building his working the whole time he'd been in the hall, drawing in the energy he’d need.

  Neil fired hurricane-force winds at the creature, forcing it to stagger backward, and not letting up.

  Bert fired his gun until it was empty and summoned another lightning bolt.

  The Kraelin stumbled back through the black hole.

  Its voice called out one last time from the darkness. “We will remember…your name…Waylon Draaake!”

  And then the hole began to close.

  Only too late, Bert realized that Sharp was still planted in the monster’s chest. He summoned the sword back, hoping it could cross the threshold before the reality wound closed completely.

  At the last possible moment, Sharp reappeared and zipped over to his hand. And then the doorway was gone.

  Bert glanced over at Neil. Neil looked back at him and said, “Was that what I think it was?”

  Bert nodded and coughed through ragged breaths.

  “Hmm,” Neil said. “I wasn’t too impressed.”

  “That’s because…” Bert paused to take a breath. “…you weren’t here for the first part of it.”

  “So, we good, then?” Neil asked. “Is it gone?”

  “Sharp?” Bert asked silently, but noticed the blue veins were already disintegrating.

  As the last of them disappeared, Sharp said, “Done. The Kraelin won’t be back.”

  “Are you sure?” Bert asked.

  “Yeah,” Sharp replied. “They don’t have good aim. It’s kind of like fishing in the ocean. They cast out, but if they don’t get a bite, they cast again. Their cast never lands in the same place twice. They will be forced to start over, and it might take them a while to catch a new fish.”

  Bert nodded and glanced at Neil. “Yeah, I think we’re good.”

  Neil nodded, but before he could speak the door opened again, and he found himself face to face with Tommy’s mother. She was staring at him with utter shock. Bert glanced down and realized that his shirt was in shreds, he was sweating profusely, and probably looked like he had just had the crap kicked out of him.

  The room was tossed about like a rampant monkey had passed through, but fortunately it didn’t look like anything was broken. The musky air smelled like fire, brimstone, and burnt gun powder. Bert couldn’t find anything to say, so he simply stared back.

  “Um,” she said, “I, uh… Is everything… Uh…”

  Bert smiled at her and shrugged. “You said you wanted me to make it seem real.”

  “Uh, yeah,” she said. “I think you have. Were those real gun shots? The neighbors will probably call the police. How did you make those…sounds?”

  Bert smiled. “No, there was no real gun shots involved. All just sound effects. I take it that it was believable?”

  “Yes,” she said, her eyes staring at him in wonder. “I actually thought for a moment…Well it was a wonderful performance.”

  Bert nodded and walked out to the living room. Tommy was hiding behind the couch, his eyes poking around the corner.

  When he saw Bert, Neil, and his mother, he popped up and said, “I tried to tell her not to go! I told her that you guys could handle it!”

  “And handle it we did,” Bert said. “That was quite the monster you had in there, pal.”

  Tommy nodded his head.

  “Is it gone?” Tommy asked. “For good this time?”

  “Sharp?” Bert asked. “I don’t want to be wrong again. Are you sure?”

  “Of course, I’m sure,” said the sword. “I did it this time, remember?”

  Bert smiled at Tommy and said, “Yeah, the monster is gone for good.”

  “Woohoo!!” Tommy cried. Charging forward, he hugged Bert. “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”

  “It’s no problem, little dude,” Bert said. “That’s what we’re here for.”

  Tommy thanked him again and darted back to his bedroom, presumably to inspect.

  Bert refused the mother’s attempt at payment, and he and Neil headed out the door.

  He was just getting ready to pull out of the driveway when the little boy came running outside waving his arms and yelling. For a moment, Bert thought something was wrong, and instantly stopped the Beast. He hopped out as Tommy approached saying, “Wait! You can’t go yet!”

  Bert leaned down. “It’s all right, Tommy. The monster is gone. I promise.”

  “I know. It’s not that,” he said, clearly exasperated. “I wanted to give you this.”

  Tommy stuck out his hand, and in it was his Spiderman action figure. Bert stared at the toy, unsure what do. Finally, he asked, “Tommy, isn’t Spiderman your favorite?”

  “Yeah.” The boy nodded solemnly, then pushed the action figure into Bert’s hand. “And now I want you to have it. Thank you.”

  With that, Tommy turned around and ran back into the house.

  Bert stared at the thoughtful gift a moment longer and got back into the Beast. He glanced over at Neil and said, “Huh, you believe that?”

  Neil simply stared at him.

  Bert put the Beast in drive and pulled out into the street. He glanced over at Neil, only to find his friend glaring at him.

  Bert raised a speculative eyebrow and asked, “What?”

  “You’re a damned friend thief,” Neil said in an angry tone, but he smiled when he said it. “You did good today, Bert. A Kraelin, live and in person. Hard to believe.”

  Somewhere in the back of his mind, Bert remembered the Kraelin’s final words. ‘We will remember your name.'

  It made him wonder if he would ever see the Kraelin again, or if a horde of the monsters were sitting around in a circle plotting revenge. He shrugged and realized he didn’t care. Instead, he thought about the action figure. Of all the payments he had ever received for helping someone out, it was by far the most valuable.

  Phillip Drayer Duncan has written ten novels. His work has been published with Yard Dog Press, Pro Se Productions, Seventh Star Press, and Happy Omega Publishing.

  Along with reading and writing like a madman, he enjoys kayakin’, canoein’, fishin’, and pretty much anything nerd related. More than anything, he enjoys spending time with his ridiculously awesome girlfriend, friends, family, and the monstrous five-pound beast that lurks in the shadows of his home.

  During the warm months, Phillip’s natural habitat includes the river or a campfire. In the colder season, he morphs into a hermit and may be spotted under a pile of books or video games. You might also catch him in the wild at a concert or a convention. He is generally an approachable creature, but it’s best to give him snacks if you wish to ensure he won’t bite. Cookies are preferable.

  His earliest books were acted out with action figures and scribbled into notebooks. Today he uses a computer like a real grown up, despite refusing to act his age in any other circumstance. And to be honest, if it would pay his bills, he’d be playing with G.I. Joes right now.

  His greatest dream in life is to become a Jedi, but since that hasn’t happened yet, he focuses on writing.

  He is e
agerly awaiting the next season of Firefly; please don’t inform him it was canceled.

  PhillipDrayerDuncan.com.

  Also by Phillip Drayer Duncan

  Catalysts – Featuring 2 Blade Mage & 1 Moonshine Wizard Story

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  The Blade Mage:

  The Blade Mage

  Of Song and Shadow

  The Memphis Knights

  Rebels and Outlaws

  Swords and Dust

  The Moonshine Wizard:

  Moonshine Wizard

  The Distilled Shorts Collection:

  First Job

  The Ogre & The Primates

  A Sword Named Sharp

  Hunting one Like Us

  The Monster Beneath the Bed

  The Hunt for the Dark Wizard

  Assassins Incorporated:

  Assassins Incorporated

  Assassins Incorporated: Rehired

  Tales of the Warden

  Anthologies & Single Shots:

  Tales of the Interstellar Bartenders Guild

  Gary Phillips Hollis for Hire

  Flush Fiction, Volume II: Twenty Years of Letting it Go!

  Write to the Cover, Volume One

  Black Fedora

  Charles Boeckman Presents: The Wild West

  Tall Pulp

  Pulpology

  Zev Moon

  To Love and Die

  Nonfiction:

  When the Shadow Sees the Sun – Creatives Surviving Depression

  Don't forget to pick up your FREE digital copy of

  Catalysts

  featuring the Blade Mage prequel shorts…

  The Generic Mage

  &

  The Last Great Blade Mage

  Join Wyatt and Axel as they hunt down a wicked clown goblin and live the experience of Wyatt being chosen as Blade Mage.

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