Memoirs of a Monster Killer: Killing Forever Book 1

by David J. Phifer

  The record stopped and the song ended.

  After several seconds of silence, Augie said, “The boy. Was that—?”

  “It was nothing,” I said. I wiped a tear from my eye. “Let’s go.”

  Augie and Landon ran out the back. As I started for the door, the body of my father shifted. His arm jerked up as if it had a mind of its own. It stretched and contorted.

  There was a sound coming from around the room. A groan. An endless wailing.

  His arm twitched. Something else was squirming under his sleeve.

  Growing.

  The record player reset itself. The song began to play.

  I kept moving. When I walked out the back of the house, the scenery had changed. It was no longer my back yard.

  It was a sea of rotting bodies.

  And they were moving.

  Chapter 45

  The Wallowers

  The floor was made of dead people. As far as the eye could see.

  The bodies were face up. Naked. Flesh cascading from their bones as skeletal hands reached to the air. Decaying bodies moaning and groaning, wallowing in misery.

  Landon gasped. “What the shitballs is that?”

  Augie scratched his brow. “How do we get past it?”

  “Anyone have a hot air balloon?” Landon asked.

  I heard my father’s groaning voice behind me. “We have to go,” I said. “Now.”

  Behind us came an inhuman roar. A beast came running from the back door of my house. It was ten feet tall with obsidian skin.

  Round beady eyes that shimmered burnt orange. It’s arms were three times the length of a normal man, and its hands were twice the size they should be, with enlarged bony knuckles that bled.

  Those knuckles attached to fingers and talons. Smoke and embers billowed from the pores of its black skin.

  Landon’s eyes practically burst from his head. “What the hell is that?”

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  But I did.

  In fact, I knew it quite well.

  It was the same beast I drew every day as a child. With black and orange crayons, I colored the monster that was my father.

  “Whatever that thing is,” Augie said. “It looks pretty pissed.”

  I grabbed the Beretta. “It’s always pissed.”

  I fired at its eyes. Ambers and sparks flew off its face. But it didn’t stop. I tucked the Beretta back into the holster and latched it. “Time to run.”

  We ran along the sea of bodies. As my heel crushed one face, I jumped to the next. Feeling smashed skulls and cheekbones under my boot, I kept going.

  Fingers and hands tried to grapple my foot and calf. “Whatever you do,” I said. “Don’t slow down. Not for a second. Or the Wallowers will take you.”

  “What are they?” Augie asked, running ahead of me. “What happens if they grab us?”

  “You’ll join them in their misery,” I said.

  Landon tripped and fell. The arms of misery tore at his arm and leg. “They got me!”

  “Can you phase through them?” I asked, reaching for my gun.

  “I can’t!”

  I fired into the floor at the faces of the people pulling him down. Their faces collapsed in like papier-maché.

  There was no blood.

  After five shots and no faces left, they let go. Augie reached out and pulled Landon to his feet. Fingers attached around Augie’s calf and foot. I fired down, ripping the limbs in half, freeing him from their grasp.

  I looked back. The beast was still coming at us.

  “Go,” I said, firing at the hands holding my feet. “I’ll catch up.” Augie and Landon ran. I waited for my father. As I sank further down, he closed the gap between us.

  When the father-beast got closer, he slowed down. The arms of misery grabbed his feet and hands.

  He fell to his hands and knees in front of me.

  They grabbed his claws and large hands until he couldn’t move. He stared into my eyes as he sank in the Wallower’s pit of misery.

  I fired beneath me until I was out of ammo. I tried to kick, but my feet were buried.

  As I sank, rotted fingers reached for the jar. Upon touching it, the hand melted like hot wax. The butterfly grew bright, its wings lighting up like the sun.

  It was Grace.

  Her light was too hot and raw for them. They couldn’t exist in her light. As I sank into the floor of corpses, I waved the jar around me, touching the light to the hands that bound me. Some loosened their grip and let go, sinking back into the floor of bodies. Others melted.

  I got back up and raced away. The beast that was my father roared as it disappeared into the sea of corpses. I kept running. There was no sight of land. Nothing to hope for. But I kept running.

  I ran into a thick mass of fog that covered everything in sight. The ground was no longer made of bodies. It was solid.

  I stopped running.

  The ground felt hard, like wood flooring. I was in a house. The fog thinned as I moved further into the room. It was a bedroom. One I’d seen before.

  Fog covered the ceiling, completely hiding it from view. The room stretched so far, it disappeared into the horizon. Vanishing into the haze.

  I came upon Landon and Augie as they stood transfixed, watching something.

  A mirror.

  Sitting at a vanity, brushing her flaming red hair was none other than…

  Grace McKenzie.

  Chapter 46

  Saving Grace

  Coming out of the mist and into the bedroom, I approached the vanity, reaching for her. “Grace?”

  She turned around in her swivel chair, still brushing her hair. She was younger than she was supposed to be. Twenty years younger. Her once-green eyes were covered in white. She continued to brush her hair as if none of us were here. She was somewhere else. Her spirit was here, but her heart wasn’t.

  Her heart was in my hands.

  I felt the warmth of the glass jar in my palm. The butterfly was no longer shining bright. Its color had faded. It was dying.

  I snapped my fingers in front of Grace’s eyes. No reaction. With her heart gone, her mind was missing too.

  Augie touched her shoulder. “Mom?” No answer. “What’s wrong with her?”

  My eyes surveyed the vanity. Her antique makeup case and brush set. She was reliving her life from decades ago.

  “She’s caught in some kind of loop,” I said.

  “How do we get her out?” Augie asked.

  “Release the butterfly,” Landon said. “That should do it, right?”

  “I’m not so sure,” I said. “Serena said the butterfly would know what to do, but it’s not reacting to her. It should be jumping for joy, trying to get to her.”

  “Is this really my mom?” Augie asked. “Or is she another Remnant?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “August, you have to make her remember.”

  “Remember what?”

  “Who she is,” I said.

  “How do I do that?”

  “Be yourself.”

  August crouched down to her. “Mom, it’s me, Augie. Your son. Come back to me. Please. I need you.” He hugged her. When he came out of it, there was no change in her condition.

  Without looking at him, she said, “I have to be my best. Tony will be home soon. If I don’t look pretty, he will be quite cross with me.”

  Tony. Her husband.

  She was stuck in a loop reliving her fears about her husband. He was a monster. Literally. Her nightmare was living life with him.

  “Why doesn’t she remember me?” Augie asked.

  “Because,” I said, looking at her stomach. She was about eight months pregnant. “She didn’t have you yet.”

  I caressed Grace’s face. “Grace, your husband is dead.”

  “You know my husband? He’ll be here soon,” she said, smiling with barren eyes. “I have to be pretty for him and have dinner ready when he gets home.”

  I caressed her face
with my calloused hands. “Grace, Tony is dead.”

  “Is Tony here?” she asked. “Do you know my husband?”

  “Tony can’t hurt you anymore,” I told her. “I killed him, remember? No one can hurt you now. You’re safe.”

  August furrowed his brow. “What are you talking about? My dad didn’t hurt my mom,” he said. “And he died in a car accident.”

  I glared at him. “It’s time you knew the truth about your father, August.”

  “Truth?” he said, backing away. “What truth?”

  Behind August boomed a voice. While distorted, it was a voice I hadn’t heard in decades.

  “You better have supper on the table, woman,” Tony said. “You know I work up an appetite all day when your lazy ass is home.”

  Grace frowned. “My husband is home.” She went back to brushing her hair. “I have to be pretty for him.”

  Tony walked from the mist.

  His face was skeletal. His skin dead white and lifeless. He had a mouth of jagged fangs. Only, it wasn’t Tony as I knew him. It was Tony as she knew him. He appeared the way she saw him. The way she remembered him.

  As the monster he was.

  As a demon.

  On his bony white face, red skin surrounded his eyes. His eyes weren’t eyes at all, but black empty sockets. He looked at me. Beady red pupils flared from within the hollow sockets. “Solomon Ivy,” the demon said. “I told you never to come back here.” Faster than the eye could see, he backhanded me. I flew across the room, crashing hard against the wall.

  The jar sailed through the air, crashing against the dresser. The glass shattered. The butterfly climbed from the shards and flew straight up, disappearing into the mist.

  It was gone.

  Augie yelled, “No!”

  I looked for the Beretta. It fell from my holster when he clobbered me. It was empty, but I could still use it as a hammer.

  “Tony,” I said, reaching for the gun. “How many times do I have to end you?”

  In a flash, he was on me. “You remember what I said if you came back, Ivy?” he said. “I said I’d kill you. Did you forget that part?”

  “Sorry,” I said. My voice garbled as he gripped my throat. “I have the memory of a fish.”

  I tried to clobber his skull with the gun handle. He grabbed my hand and squeezed, crushing my fingers. The gun fell.

  “Augie,” I shouted, pounding the demon’s arm. It didn’t budge. His grip was steel. “He’s just a Remnant. In your mother’s memory. He’s just—”

  The demon gripped his claw over my heart. “I told you I’d tear out your fucking heart if I saw you again,” he said. “Let me remind you.”

  He pushed his fingers into my chest. My ribs cracked.

  I grunted at the pain. My left arm went numb. “Stop—”

  Tony snarled. “Stay away from her, you hear? She’s mine.”

  His claws pierced into my chest. I was losing consciousness. He was killing me.

  Augie’s voice quaked with fear. “D-dad?”

  Tony stopped. Pulled his talons from my chest and looked back at Augie.

  “Dad, is that you?”

  Tony growled and sniffed the air like a wild beast trying to capture the scent of its prey. “Who the fuck are you?”

  “I’m your son, Augie.”

  Tony dropped me. My legs gave way as I crashed. My jaw collided with the wood floor. My heart pounded from my chest, trying to regain its rhythm. My face was covered in sweat.

  The demon’s claws grappled Augie’s neck, lifting him in the air. “You’re soft. Weak,” he said. “You’re no son of mine.”

  Landon attacked. Tony clawed his face, spraying Landon’s protoplasm blood against the wall. He fell to his knees, holding his face. Screaming.

  I needed to tell Augie how to beat him. If I didn’t, he’d get killed. I tried to speak, but the words were slurred. I couldn’t move from the floor. My body was giving up.

  Augie wasn’t ready to face him. He wasn’t strong enough. He’d get himself killed.

  I always get the job done. No matter what. Augie couldn’t beat him alone. Could he? I needed to trust him. Trust he had what it took to get the job done.

  I tried to move. A throbbing pain coursed through my body. I was passing out.

  I could force my body to work. I’ve done it before.

  Or I could trust.

  Trust in what?

  Trust in the powers that be.

  I don’t and never will again.

  Then trust in Augie.

  Okay.

  But if I woke up dead, I was gonna be pissed.

  I slipped into unconsciousness. The world dimmed.

  Until it was black.

  When I reopened my eyes, Augie was standing over the demon’s body holding the demon blade. His shirt was ripped from claw marks. The demon Remnant was fading away in the wind.

  “August?” I said, coming out of my stupor. He helped me to my feet. My gaze fell to the dead demon on the floor.

  I should have hugged him and said ‘Good job, kid, you saved our lives.’ I should have told him I was proud.

  But I didn’t.

  I merely nodded.

  Grace held her hands in front of her, palms up. And perched on her hands…

  …stretching its wings…

  …was the butterfly.

  Her white eyes returned to green. A huge smile came over her.

  The fog within her lifted. The mist around us dissipated. She turned to me. “Solomon? Is that you?”

  “It’s me, Gracie,” I said, bending down to her.

  “Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” she said, raising her hand to my leathered face. “When did you get so old?”

  “It happened yesterday,” I said. “Your son caused it.”

  Her face beamed. “My son?” She turned to Augie. “August. Did you clean your room?”

  Tears welled up in his eyes. “Hey, mom,” he said. “I’ll get on that tomorrow. I promise.”

  I took her hand with the butterfly. “Do you see this?”

  “Oh, that’s pretty,” she said, touching her face. “Have I seen it before? It seems so familiar.”

  The butterfly’s color returned. It started to glow. “She’s waiting for you,” I said.

  Grace talked to the butterfly like it was an old friend. “Oh, hi,” she said, giggling. “I remember now.” She looked at me with the biggest smile like she was sharing a secret. “It’s me.” Her smile was to die for.

  The butterfly left her hand and flew around her in circles. She looked up at it and laughed, clapping her hands.

  She tilted her head back. A light shined from her forehead, just above her eyes. Her third eye. The butterfly flew into the light. The light expanded and became brighter.

  Grace was glowing.

  It was like staring into the sun, too bright to look at. I turned away.

  When I looked back, she was gone. I looked up. Orbs of light rose into the air towards the sky. They broke through the dark clouds and kept going.

  “We did it, kid,” I said.

  “Is she in Heaven now?” Augie asked.

  “Yeah,” I said. “I think she is.”

  He turned to me with a confused look. “I thought my dad died in a car accident.”

  It was obvious we had a lot to talk about. I looked at my watch. It felt like we were here for no more than ten minutes. To Augie, it probably felt like three. But my watch said we were here for only an hour.

  If every minute here was one hour in the real world, like Rory said, that meant we’ve been here for over 60 hours. “We need to get back.”

  Landon shook his head. His face still had claw marks from the demon. But they were healing slowly. “Do we have to go back the same way we came?”

  “This world reacts to us, conforming to our repressed fears and nightmares,” I said. “I’m betting the landscape has changed.”

  On our way back to the gateway, there was no sea of misery. My old hou
se wasn’t there. But we did pass Augie’s uncle in his junkyard, searching through random junk.

  When we found the gateway, we walked through, back into Rory’s apartment. Rory turned off the antique radio. And the portal closed.

  He seemed confused. “You guys just left, like, two minutes ago,” he said. “We haven’t even gotten through the song yet.”

  “Time is relative,” I said. “Your experience in there wouldn’t necessarily be someone else’s.”

  “Huh, I never thought about it like that,” he said.

  Serena asked, “Did you save Grace?”

  Augie smiled. “My mom is in Heaven.”

  Landon puffed out his chest. “It feels good to have the good guys win for a change.”

  “I assume you’ll be going to Heaven now?” Serena asked.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I kinda like it here.”

  “When the light comes, Harry,” Serena said. “Go into it.”

  “I think it’s already here,” he said. “There’s a bright light. Like a door just opened.” His eyes got huge. “Oh, my.”

  I looked. There was nothing there. It was on a different frequency. Human eyes weren’t meant to see the door to Heaven.

  “See?” Serena said. “They’re inviting you in.”

  Landon looked worried. “What if they don’t let me in? What if it’s a trick?”

  Serena smiled. “You just helped us save a soul. You’ll get in.”

  “What about that one time when I ran through traffic to get away from a ghoul and pushed that guy out of my way and he got hit by a bus?”

  I shook my head. “Landon, that was an accident.”

  “He was a priest!”

  “Maybe Heaven will look the other way,” I said.

  Landon made air quotes. “What about the time I did that spell and accidentally got a whole town possessed by hellbeasts because I had the hots for that lawyer chick and was just trying to get laid?”

  “Matters of the heart,” Serena said. “God will understand.”

  “What about the time I stole the cash from that dealer who screwed me over, but later discovered it really belonged to his missionary brother who was using it to fund an orphanage?”

  Serena smiled and pointed at him. “You might not want to bring that one up to St. Peter.”

  “Right. Well, we’ll see what happens, friends,” he said. “Destiny awaits. See you around, suckers.” He took a step and disappeared.