by Molly Snow
Stella cautiously stood up, and said, “I-I don’t want them. I’m going to go back out to my friends n-now, Billy.”
He flashed against her, pinning her back against the dresser. It made a clatter, and a perfume bottle shattered, sending its potent gardenia fragrance into the air. “Stella, I need you. It’s not fair. I need you.” He breathed close to her nostrils sending another whiff of dirt her way.
“Ouch,” she moaned, feeling a spasm up her back from her tailbone. “You’re hurting me…”
Billy let up just barely. At least that stopped the spasm. But he then pressed his cold hands across her forehead and cheeks, back and forth, like she was play-dough. “If only you would be with me, be like me. You’d understand.”
“What do you mean?” Her voice shook.
“I’m so very cold all the time. I need a warm body to cuddle up to.”
“Can’t you just buy a jacket… or get a heater or something? Leave me alone.”
He laughed a crazed kind of laugh, dropping his head back. “If only I could cure it with a heater.”
“You chose to work in a morgue in freezers all day.”
Billy narrowed his eyes and tilted his head, before saying, “You can’t really be that gullible, love.”
“What… do… you… mean?”
“You saw me that night.”
“That night at the morgue? Yes, of course. What?”
“I entered through a window. A window, dear. You never wondered why?”
Stella retraced her memory. “I figured you forgot your keys or something. What? Tell me.”
“Say what else you saw. What else did you see me do?”
“Y-you pulled one of the bodies out of your freezer.”
“…Then what?” He rolled around a hand, motioning for her to get on with it already.
The scalpel flashed through her mind, and his maniacal look of glee over the body. “A… scalpel.”
“Very good. So, let’s rerun this again, shall we?” He smiled stupidly. “You watched me enter the morgue through a window—not a door—and proceed with tools to cut open a cadaver.”
“You mean you didn’t really work there…?”
“So gullible. Either that or dense, or both. No, my love, I didn’t work there. I never worked there. Didn’t you see the news about the missing bodies?”
“…I don’t watch the news.” But things were starting to piece together for her in a whole new way now.
“You’re the president of Paranormal Addicts Anonymous, and you never had a clue? This is priceless.”
“…So what you’re saying is, you’re not Billy of BSU, who worked part-time at the morgue?”
“Oh, my name is Billy. I never lied about that. Billy Butte, however. B-U-T-T-E; the U is a long vowel.”
“You’re last name isn’t Esquire?”
He chuckled over that. “No. Esquire just sounds better, my love. Girls always fantasize about taking on their boyfriend’s last name. I couldn’t have you imagine telemarketers calling our home and asking for a Mrs. Butt, now could I?
“You make a good point,” she had to admit.
“I know I do. See, most people are too stupid to know that when there is an E at the end, it changes the sound of the U. I got tired of explaining it over and over for the last hundred years.”
“Hundred years? So, who are you? What are you?”
He smiled big, and exhaled the dirt smell again. “You know what I am, Stella. Just say it.”
Goodness gracious, she couldn’t help but think of the scene where Edward Cullen demands Bella Swan to just say who he was. Say it, he had seethed into her ear in the forest. There wasn’t much of a difference here, now, was there? Only this was real, and doubly creepy. “I don’t believe in this stuff.”
“Well, you better start believing now. Go ahead and say it out loud, baby.”
“A vampire.” There. She did it. So much for being a freaking non-believer. Maybe the lady under the bed had been a zombie after all. Suddenly she had the great desire to see Damien again. To have him come through the window and sweep her away from this disgusting mess. They could make out under the stars and live happily ever after. Under the circumstances, she conveniently forgot his rejection.
Billy shaking his head, startled her out of that fantasy. “What do you mean?” Stella asked. “I was wrong? What do you want me to say, then?”
He pointed at his incisor teeth, and said, “I would make for a pitiful vampire, don’t you think? I couldn’t suck a drip through these things. And if only it were that easy. If it were that easy, I wouldn’t have to sneak into morgues and cut people up. So you are wrong again. Come on, PAA president. Use your knowledge.”
“You’re… a zombie.”
TWENTY-ONE
Wham! A pale guy slammed into the hood of Damien’s jeep, running from something in the woods. His eyes were wild, as he looked up from his crumpled position to Damien’s beastly face. Then he hunched over and limped away fast, crossing the road, down toward the beach. A few other people—or creatures?—chased after him, too quick to see. Damien sat up straighter, and reran the images over in his mind. What in the world just happened?
A black Lincoln pulled into the bed and breakfast’s lot a few minutes later, crunching the wet gravel, stealing his attention. Expecting it to be his father, Damien got back out of his jeep quietly, and moved closer within the trees. A tall man exited the car, with a black trench coat and matching hair slicked into a ponytail. He rang the doorbell, despite the “No Vacancy” sign. It had to be him. Damien looked at his watch. Fifteen minutes earlier than expected. Yes, it had to be him.
The man entered after someone invited him inside. Damien stepped right up to the home, peeking closer than before through the formal room’s window. Thankfully the man and woman with matching slippers had gone off to bed. It gave him a clear view to the dining room. He watched who he was certain was his father remove his coat and hang it on a rack, and be escorted to sit at the table by Maggie. Maggie disappeared into the kitchen right away and came back out with a glass of water for him, which he gratefully took. Damien still couldn’t see his face, as his back was facing him, but when Stella suddenly appeared, coming down the hall from the master bedroom, the man turned to address her.
Stella was visibly shaken up and her face was whiter than usual. The man stood and looked down to her eye-to-eye, concerned. He gently put a hand to her shoulder and asked her a few more things, to which Stella vacantly nodded. Damien could make out his profile. His nose was sloped the same as his own, and he guessed they were probably the same height, by how his chin came to Stella’s forehead. Stella was offered a seat and the two continued to talk.
Damien could feel a wolf whimper try to escape his throat. His father was so handsome, and looked so caring. The way he was obviously consoling Stella, a stranger, was really touching. He could only imagine how his father would react to seeing him, his son. A slight reflection of a wolf face looked back at him, and he slumped down to the ground and wiped his wet eyes with the back of his large, furry hands. He then dug his pointed nails into the dirt, and grabbed fistfuls of dirt. A pitiful life to bear. A Jekyll and Hyde curse.
*
Stella couldn’t help but shed a tear. This was supposedly Damien’s father, yet he felt so familiar to her, like she knew him somehow. “Excuse me.”
“You don’t have to apologize for crying,” he said. “This ex-boyfriend sounds like a real creeper. I’ll keep a watch on the place tonight. You don’t have anything else to fear.”
“Thank you.” That actually did make her feel better. Billy took things further than ever before, threatening to change Stella to be just like him. “What happened to wanting a warm body to snuggle up to?” she had asked. “Forget it. I’ll take you, hot or cold. And I’ll do what I can to make you mine.” When Gordon then knocked on the master bedroom’s door, he fled through the window, vowing to follow up on his intentions to make her his for forever.
> Maggie rounded up the rest of the PAA, and they stood awkwardly around the table as if they wanted to also say something to make her feel better, but there was nothing they could say. Stella got the best consolation from Mr. Capernalli. “Sorry Damien’s not here,” Stella said.
“Oh, he’s here. Somewhere.” he said. “I talked to his Uncle Leo earlier, and he told me he’d wait around town for me. He probably has cold feet. It’s been forever since I’ve seen him, he probably has no memories. But I’m sure he’ll come around.”
Maggie cut in. “If you don’t mind me asking, why did you leave Damien, and at such a young age?”
“It was his mother’s wish.”
“His mother’s wish?” Caleb asked, and Gordon gave a cock-eyed expression.
“Yes, it was. But now that Damien’s almost eighteen, I’m sure his mother would approve.”
Stella asked, “Where’s his mother?”
“Hangin’ with the other angels in Heaven.”
Stella remembered how Damien was in such a rush earlier to meet his father. She had no clue it was like this, that he hadn’t seen his father since he was a baby. Again she berated herself for having been so judgmental. If she were in his shoes, she would have cut out ASAP, too.
For another hour or so, Mr. Capernalli was a calming strength in the bed and breakfast. He eventually settled in front of the warmth of the fireplace and said he wanted to learn more about them all, Damien’s “friends.” No one got out of hand, monopolizing the conversation, talking over each other, calling names, or putting anyone down. It was very respectful, and a bonding moment for them all. Stella was especially surprised that Mr. Capernalli’s presence conjured up a myriad of confessions.
Maggie started of course, talking about her compulsion to lie. “Plus,” she said, “when others show some significant humor or talent or smarts, I feel even greater moments of low self esteem. I know this is why I treat Gordon so terribly…”
Gordon pushed his glasses up his nose with a look of interest, and Maggie continued, “I’m sorry, Gordon. You are extremely smart, which you know already. You didn’t deserve all the quips I’ve made about you, and I probably deserved that Mountain Dew down my chest. It’s just that you’re the most amazingly skilled person I’ve met, and three years younger than me.”
The nerd gave a cute little smile, and said, “Apology accepted.” Gordon went on about how he always felt like he didn’t fit in anywhere. He always got along with adults, because of his brains, but it wasn’t until the PAA formed that he had something in common with his peers.
Kit spoke next. “I’m really happy Caleb and I came here instead of Comic-Con. I won’t ever dare you to do anything again, Stella, after what we put you through. Also, I can’t wait to take you to the Deathheads concert, and especially the Meet and Greet. I know how long you have been raving about seeing them, and I should have never used that against you, to get you to ask Damien out on a date.”
After Stella gave Kit a hug, all eyes went to Caleb, who was twiddling some of his hair around a finger. “What?”
“Don’t you have anything to say?” Kit nudged.
“Other than I gotta go pee?”
Kit pushed his arm, and Stella rolled her eyes with a laugh.
Caleb said, “I don’t really have anything to confess. What you see is what you get, and I think I’m a pretty cool friend to you all.”
“Oh, please!” Kit said, then took his twiddling finger out of his hair and locked it affectionately in one of her own. “You guys, Caleb has an announcement to make…”
Caleb finished with perfect timing, “I’m pregnant,” and everyone laughed. “Okay, okay, I’m kidding. Kit is my giiiirlfriend.”
Stella couldn’t believe she had no clue what was happening right under her nose. “Congratulations,” she said, and gave them both a hug at the same time.
Mr. Capernalli, although having just met everyone, smiled in satisfaction. “I think Damien has a great group of friends, if I do say so myself.”
Stella was pretty certain he wasn’t friends with any of them anymore, if he was even to begin with. Out of respect, though, she nodded.
When Stella’s friends came in her room to stay up late together, she had her own confession to get off her chest. “Guys, you heard me talk to Damien’s dad about my ex, Billy. There’s more you should know… And while I’m at it, I should also say I know where Mrs. Partridge’s body is.”
TWENTY-TWO
Earlier, while Damien sat in the dirt under the formal room’s window, an image flashed through his mind. The pale man who had slammed against his jeep’s hood, was bound and lying on the beach. Damien pressed his palms against his eyes and shook his head. He then got a picture of the location. Rocks were piled in such a way he recognized it to be where he had slept and surfed. To prove whether or not there was something to the vision, he took off running.
Thighs bulged through his jeans as he descended the steep slope off the side of the road, down to the beach below. He hopped from one large rock to another, feeling his toes grip and his nails scratch along as he went. Once he came to the right spot, he slammed down to the ground, spraying sand all around him from the force.
The pale guy was there… and alone. He spit out some of the sand. There was no way he could wipe his mouth, since his hands and feet were tied with cords. “Please don’t hurt me.”
Those words instantly reminded Damien of when he threw the covers off Seth Partridge, another pale guy. “Seth?”
The white face raised its eyebrows as if surprised. “Uh… yes, yes. You aren’t going to hurt me, are you?”
Damien crouched down and shook his head, remembering how scary he must appear as his wolf self. He may look like a monster, but he didn’t feel in his heart he was a monster. “I’m sorry I scared you.”
“How do you know my name?”
Damien had to think fast. He couldn’t reveal his identity to someone basically a stranger. Instead, he asked, “What happened to you?”
“I climbed out my bedroom window this evening to go for a walk while the sun was still sleeping, when it is safest for me. I’m allergic to the sun’s rays. Anyway, a… gang of thugs chased after me, and I took off running. Was it your jeep I ran into?”
“Yeah…” Damien nodded.
“Sorry about that.”
“You don’t have to say sorry for that. Go on…”
“Well, when the thugs caught me, they found I had no money, not even a wallet. So they took me down to this beach and tied me up. They said they were going to come back and light me on fire for their troubles. They’ll be back soon. Please unloose me… quick!”
Something in Damien’s gut told him not to do it, not to unloose him. “Will you promise to not tell anyone you’ve seen me?”
“Yes, yes. Certainly. You are my hero. It will be our secret forever.”
Damien slid his muscular fingers through the ropes and easily ripped them apart.
“Thank you, my hero.”
“Go head back to the house.”
“That I will surely do. Wait…, can I know my hero’s name?”
“…Damien.”
TWENTY-THREE
Sunshine poured through the kitchen’s window, warming Stella. She hoped it was a sign of better things to come, but knew better. Last night had been just the beginning of another real nightmare.
Maggie whipped eggs in a large bowl at great speed. “Well, we got their four-hundred bucks last night,” she said. “All that is left is to feed them their breakfast and we are done.”
Kit poured pancake mix onto a sizzling skillet. “Technically guests don’t leave a place until eleven, right?”
“Yes,” Maggie agreed. “They could be here all the way until eleven on the dot, check-out time. But basically, after feeding them, we are done hosting to their every whim. Now we’ve got to think about what to do with the body.”
Stella nearly choked on her juice. “What do you mean? Can’t we just leave he
r where she’s at?”
Maggie paused her stirring. “No. I’m thinking we have to bury her.”
“Bury her?!” Stella and Kit burst.
“Think about it. If we leave her to further rot under that bed, the circumstances could come back to bite us. We need to cleanly wrap things up here before we head home. The police could easily hold an investigation that would lead to us. Even though we know she is a zombie, others won’t believe that.”
“How can the cops know about us?” Kit asked. “We can just burn her bookkeeping records.”
“Trust me,” Maggie said with her usual look of authority, “I wrote her a check from the PAA’s account. They’ll find out through her account that we were the last ones here. Plus… we don’t want Damien’s father to find her after we leave, do we?”
*
Caleb shoveled the last mound of wet dirt behind him, then leaned against the tool’s long handle. Mrs. Partridge’s body lay next to the shallow grave, completely wrapped in a quilt. All was silent except for a woodpecker hammering away at a nearby pine tree.
“Alright, well let’s hurry and bury her,” Maggie finally said.
A voice trilled in the distance, from behind. “Helloooo!” They all turned to see it was Marsha, dressed in shorts and a sun hat which brimmed wide around her full face. “Toodle-loo!”
“What do we do?” Kit squeaked.
“Aren’t they supposed to be gone?” Gordon whined.
Stella automatically turned to Maggie, as did the others.
“It’s okay. Be normal,” she said.
Ted soon followed behind, also in shorts.
“You all were such wonderful hosts, we wanted to thank you before leaving.” The woman extended her hand to Maggie. “We are so sad it’s over. We had an amazing time.” Ted agreed, and offered his hand.
Stella could see Marsha’s eyes suddenly fix on the rolled-up bundle at their feet. “What’s that?” she asked, and her eyes led to the debit in the earth and then to Caleb and his shovel. Caleb tipped his tool behind him, and said, “Huh?”
