Memoirs of a Monster Killer: Killing Forever Book 1

by David J. Phifer

  “Yes. Everything is fine, May,” I said. “I was just concerned. Thanks for looking after her.”

  “My pleasure. She’s been wonderful. Good night, Sol.”

  CLICK.

  I shoved the phone in my coat pocket.

  Augie hung up his phone too. “I still can’t get through. Tried both her cell and the landline. Do you think she’s okay?”

  “I don’t know. Your friend could have been lying, throwing out threats because he was mad that I called him out.”

  “Stop calling him my friend. He’s obviously not, dude.”

  “He hoped he could get to me through you.”

  “Why me?”

  “You have a paranormal podcast. The perfect reason for you to connect with me at the conference.”

  “Now that I think about it, when I met Blake in the forum, he suggested I should talk with you at the convention. He was pushy about it. But I thought it was a great idea. I didn’t even know you were coming to the conference until he told me.”

  “He needed us to meet. Probably thought he could make a name for himself by taking me out.”

  “I can’t believe those things are real,” he said, downing more pills. “And he was one of them?”

  “One of many.” I handed him a water bottle. I gulped down a grape energy drink. “He works for a human trafficker called Poe. Blake is just a scout. Poe is the real danger.”

  “You stabbed him in the stomach with a dagger and he got up like it was nothing. I’d say he’s pretty dangerous.”

  I skidded off the road past a dump truck. Gravel spit in the lane behind me. The back of my truck spun as I shot off the highway.

  “Has Blake been to your house?” I asked.

  “Never. I go to his house to play ‘Magic: The Gathering’ and drink with his friends. He’s never even met my mom.”

  “His friends know you? They’re probably Forevers. You’re lucky to be alive.”

  “Shit.”

  “What is it?”

  “Blake could play guitar. I was gonna bring him in the band, man.”

  After a few turns, I pulled onto Silver Rock Lane. His house was approaching. I tore up the front lawn as I threw it in park and jumped out.

  “Stay here,” I said.

  “No way.”

  From the front bay window, wild lights flashed.

  I pulled out my Glock and charged in the front door. Augie followed.

  There were no Forevers. No monsters.

  They were all gone.

  Grace lied on the living room floor, face up. Her mouth was open in a terrifying death scream. Her eyes were milky white. Her skin was pale and cracked.

  They drained her life force only seconds before we arrived.

  Grace McKenzie was dead.

  Chapter 10

  Stuck

  Graze McKenzie lay dead in her living room. Her body whithered, the mere sight of her was the stuff of horror movies. It would make a normal person question their mortality, and the universe, as they asked themselves the tough questions about life they never had before.

  What evil could do such a thing?

  How is this wickedness possible?

  Does God exist?

  If He does exist, does He even care to begin with?

  Mortal eyes were not meant to witness such cosmic evil. Mortal minds were not built to comprehend it, much less deal with its consequences. I have seen men driven insane over lesser things.

  “Oh God. Mom.” Augie held her dead body in his hands. “What’d they do to her?”

  “They drained her life force,” I said, crouched beside her.

  “We have to call 911. Before it’s too late.”

  “August,” I said, scowling. “It’s already too late.”

  Tears streamed down his face as he shook his head violently. “No. NO. You know about this stuff. You need to help her. Bring her back.”

  “I’m sorry, kid.”

  “I can’t lose my mom, Mr. Ivy. I can’t.”

  “There’s nothing we can do.”

  “People can be brought back from the dead. You said it yourself in your books.”

  “Not when their life force is drained.”

  “We have to try.”

  “It’s an empty husk now, August. Your mother is gone.”

  “Fuck you, Ivy. She’s my mom.”

  He immediately dropped the mister. All pleasantries went out the window. He just lost his mother, after all.

  “This is your fault,” he said. “Why’d you have to stab Blake? Everything was fine until then.”

  I gave him a few moments to allow his anger to pass. “Lean her head to the floor,” I said.

  He set her down without asking why. I went to the kitchen and removed the kitchen towel off the counter. I set it over Grace’s mouth.

  Augie was on the floor, still crying. “Wh-what are you doing?”

  “Trust me, you don’t want to know.”

  “Tell me what you’re doing to my mother.”

  “It’s rare that entities will randomly attach to her unless magic is involved. I’m covering her mouth and closing her eyes. Just in case.” I wrapped the cloth tight around her mouth and tied it in the back.

  “Wait. Wait, I remember this. You talk about this in your first book.”

  “Yes. When I was still figuring it out.”

  “You called it something in your book. An empty vessel.”

  “Good memory.”

  Well, look at that. The kid wasn’t a total loser after all.

  He shook his head. “Not really. I read that book at least ten times.” He took his mother’s hand and closed his eyes. “Mom, you always worried about everything. You couldn’t fall asleep without a sleeping pill most nights. You always had bad dreams. Always worried about everything. Afraid of the world. You never had peace. Now you do. Now you can finally rest in peace, Mom. In Heaven.”

  I wasn’t sure if I should tell him. But I did. “Actually, she’s not at peace, August.”

  He lifted up his head and narrowed his eyes. “Wh-what?”

  “You have to understand what a spirit is,” I said. “When a person’s spirit returns to Heaven, it takes with it the memories, feelings, and experiences from their life. That’s how the individual spirit grows. How it evolves. Using that identity from this life as experience. We call that the soul.”

  “Yeah, and her soul will go to Heaven. In peace.”

  “When a body’s life forced is drained, much of the soul’s energy is taken. Ripped away. The spirit is incomplete without that part of itself. The spirit gets stuck. And won’t go to Heaven without it.”

  “What are you saying? That my mom’s soul is stuck on Earth?”

  “More or less.”

  “Like a ghost?”

  “The only way to make her spirit complete is to find the one who drained her soul and get the energy back.”

  “Then we find Blake and cut it out of him.”

  “The energy can only be expelled by magical means,” I said. “And I don’t think it was Blake who did this.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “The body,” I rethought my sentence. “Grace is drained badly. It’s severe. The indentations under her eyes and in the cheeks means that every last drop of her was drained.” I pointed to Grace’s face. “Blake is inexperienced, he’s new to this world. Every Forever has a signature in how they do things. Draining a body is no different. Grace was drained by someone more experienced and more powerful than Blake.”

  “Then who did this to my mom?”

  “Poe.”

  “We need to find someone who can deal with this. Someone who can find him. We need to call the cops.”

  “I am the people who can deal with this.”

  “But you’re just a writer. A journalist. You research the paranormal and find people with strange experiences. You know about this stuff, sure. But we need someone who can actually do something about it.”

  “I’m not a rese
archer, August. I don’t interview people for the books. That’s just a facade.” I held up my bloody knife. “This is what I do. For a living.”

  “What are you saying? You’re some kind of monster hunter?”

  “I don’t hunt monsters,” I said. “I kill them.”

  “Then let’s go and kill these motherfuckers.”

  “I will.”

  “Can you bring my mom back?”

  “The heart and brain neurons have been severed. Fried. Her connection to this body is gone. Her spirit won’t return. If we tried, something unholy would come back through instead. It would be a Cursed Vessel. Even if the brain still held some leftover memories, reliving old neural pathways, it wouldn’t be your mother.”

  “What do we do with her? I can’t leave her like this.”

  “Her soul’s energy will be fully absorbed into Poe’s system in three days. Right now it’s swirling in there until he needs it.”

  “Where’s my mom’s spirit right now?”

  “I need two small mirrors. And black spray paint.”

  He jumped to his feet and ran upstairs.

  I caressed Grace’s forehead and stared at her sunken face. “I’m sorry, Grace. It hasn’t been an easy road for you. I hoped… maybe… you and I could… it doesn’t matter now. I will save you. You’ll find your peace. I promise.”

  August returned with a small wooden framed hand mirror and a circular vanity mirror. “Will this work?”

  “Where’s the paint?”

  “I don’t have paint,” he said, handing me a thick black Sharpie. “But I have this.”

  “That works.” I took the marker and covered the vanity mirror with black ink.

  “You didn’t mention this in your books.”

  “Mention what?”

  “About the soul getting trapped after its life force is drained. You never wrote about it.”

  “Most people don’t believe the things in my books are true. If they did, they’d live in fear. Knowing they’ll return to Heaven after this shitty life is, for most, the only solace they have. I can’t take that away from them. Some things need to be protected.”

  “What do we do with the mirrors?”

  “We need to see where your mother is.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “There are numerous planes of existence. We have to find where her spirit is hiding.” I handed him the wooden framed mirror. “Hold this to face your mother.”

  He sat on the couch and held it facing me and Grace. I crouched next to her, turning my back to Augie. I held up the small vanity to face Augie and the other mirror.

  “I don’t understand,” he said. “What are we looking for?”

  “I need to concentrate.” I focused on the mirror.

  Energy can be in several places at once. When you focus on a specific energy, you call it forth. I was focusing on my memories of Grace.

  Under my breath, I whispered. “Ostende mihi verum sui Grace Ann McKenzie.”

  After less than ten seconds Augie was getting impatient. He started bouncing his knee.

  He looked at me with impatient eyes. “Concentrate on wh—” In the mirrors, Grace reflected back at us. Her face was discolored. Her eyes rolled into her head. She was full of fear and sorrow. She looked like a zombie. Behind her were fast-moving dark clouds. The world itself was dead. Augie jumped back and dropped the mirror. “Holy fucking Christ!”

  The mirror hit the floor and shattered.

  I set mine down. “You saw her?”

  “What the fuck, dude?” He jolted back and paced around the couch. “What the fuck was that?”

  “Your mother.”

  “I don’t know what that thing was but it sure as hell wasn’t my mother.”

  “I had to be sure. She’s waiting for her soul. I know where she is.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Ghostworld.”

  “How do we help her?”

  “I find Poe and get her soul back. But I need someone’s help. Someone who can extract the energy from Poe.”

  “What do we do, put an ad on Craigslist? Seriously, who knows how to do that?”

  “A necromancer,” I said. “I need to call the witch.”

  Chapter 11

  The Plan

  I pulled Grace’s body into the back pantry and placed a blanket over it. With her corpse being in the condition it was in, I was glad it didn’t fall apart in my hands. Seeing that would push the boy over the edge. And I already had enough to deal with.

  Augie watched without getting anywhere close to the body. “I’m coming with you,” he said.

  “I’m going alone.”

  “She’s my mom.”

  “And she’s dead. You will be too if you come with me. It’s not safe.”

  “I can help.”

  “You’ll get in the way.”

  “I can fight.”

  I closed the door to the pantry and turned to Augie, giving him a look. I slapped his face.

  “Ow!” He went red and grabbed his cheek. “What was that for?”

  “You said you could fight. Prove it.”

  “I wasn’t ready.”

  “You think Poe is going to wait until you’re ready?”

  He stood straight up and puffed out his chest. “Okay, okay,” he said, sniffling. He curled his hands into fists. “Try that agai—” I bopped him in the nose. It was a love tap. He almost went down. His hands went to his face as blood gushed from his nostrils. He was a bleeder. “What the fuck, man?”

  “Have you ever been in a fight, son?”

  “Of course. I told you. I know how to fight—”

  I swept my left leg under his feet. He crashed backwards, his spine crashing to the stone floor.

  WHAP!

  It sounded painful.

  I walked away. “You’ll get me killed, kid.”

  “Okay, maybe I didn’t win at the fights I got into, but I still had them.”

  “Getting beat up in grade school because you’re a skinny geek with red hair doesn’t count.”

  “Please. I need to go with you. I can’t stay here.” He looked at the blanket that covered his mother’s corpse. “With that. I need to save my mom.”

  “What’s driving you? Love or vengeance?”

  “Blake was supposed to be my friend. He needs to pay for what he did! What would you do if it was your mom?”

  It was both, love and revenge. He wanted to save his mother out of love and destroy the evil sons of bitches responsible. Both was always better than one or the other. The push of vengeance; the pull of love.

  I could work with that.

  Too bad he was a wimp who couldn’t punch his way out of a paper bag. He was a bigger project than I was willing to take on.

  “I’d hunt them down to the ends of the earth and make them suffer a horrible death,” I said. “I’d gut them slowly until I grew bored of hearing them beg for their miserable lives. But that’s me. Shit happens. This world sucks. Nightmares hide under the bed. And in our souls. If you don’t roll with the punches, you’ll go insane.”

  “Please,” he said. He had tears in his eyes. He dropped his gaze to the floor. “I need to do this.”

  Could I really deprive this kid of saving his mother? Cheating him of his vengeance? He knew where Blake lived. He’d go there himself, probably with a kitchen knife. And he’d be dead before he could use it. I couldn’t do that to Grace’s son. I couldn’t allow him to die. He was all she had left in this world. Even though his father was an asshole monster, Augie was still his mother’s legacy.

  As sad as that was.

  “Fine,” I said. “You’re safer with me.”

  “Really? Thank you, Mr. Ivy. You won’t regret this.”

  “Stop calling me Mr. Ivy. And don’t call me bro or dude. It’s Ivy. Got it?”

  “Yes, Mr.—” he stopped himself. “Yes, Ivy. Thank you.” He followed me across the house to the front door. “What do we do now?”

  “We
find the necromancer.”

  “Necromancer? As in someone who raises the dead?”

  “It’s not as dramatic as you think,” I said. “She has some abilities that will help us.”

  “Like getting my mom’s soul from this Poe guy?”

  “Exactly.”

  “We just leave my mom here? In the pantry? Should we call an ambulance or something?”

  “We have three days before her spirit is lost forever in Ghostworld. If we fail, we’ll think of a cover story for the cops. And my name won’t be mentioned. You came home and found her in that condition. We’ll figure out details later.”

  “You think you can find Poe?” He grabbed the pill bottle from his Spring coat pocket. Before he could pop in another pill I grabbed the bottle from him. “Hey! That’s my meds.”

  “How long have you been taking these?”

  “Since I was fifteen or sixteen, I think.”

  “For anxiety?”

  “I get weird episodes.”

  “Explain that.”

  “I get strange feelings,” he said. “Nervousness and the shakes. A million thoughts going through my mind. Weird shit. Sometimes it gets pretty intense. The pills calm me down.”

  “Do you hear voices? Like schizophrenia?”

  The kid could be possessed by entities and not even know it. If he picked up any talents from his father, there was a good chance something was wrong with him spiritually, not mentally.

  “Not really. No voices. Just weirdness.” He scratched his head. “It’s hard to explain.”

  He saw the lights from Blake’s teleportation. Which was impossible. I knew something else was going on under the surface. I just didn’t know what.

  I had my suspicions about him. He was awkward, not nervous. There’s a difference. Fear and excitement both come across as tension in the body and would be hard for the kid to decipher. It was something I’d have to experiment with later.

  “I’m taking the pills,” I said. “You’ll get them back if I’m wrong.”

  “Wrong about what?”

  “Did your mother take you to get these?”

  “Yeah, when I first got them.”

  “Your mother’s instinct was to protect you. But in doing that, she kept you soft.”