EVERYDAY HORRORS
BILL OF THE DEAD
Book 2
Rick Gualtieri
Copyright © 2020 Rick Gualtieri
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission of the author. Your support of authors’ rights is greatly appreciated.
All characters in this novel are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The use of any real company and/or product names is for literary effect only. All other trademarks and copyrights are the property of their respective owners.
Cover by Mallory Rock at
www.rocksolidbookdesign.com
Published by Freewill Press
Freewill-press.com
Contents
Title Page
BRAND NEW DAY, SAME SHIT
BARK WORSE THAN HIS BITE
BEHOLD THIS LUMP OF ROCK!
BIRDS OF PRAY
THE NEW GREEN DEAL
GESTATING THE OBVIOUS
CALM, COOL, AND DEBT COLLECTED
KEEPING AN EYE ON THE KID
YOU SAY POTATO...
WIKI-FREAKS
CRAMPING MY STYLE
IT’S ALL RELATIVE
STAYFREE-WILL
MODERN ART
PTO
BIRD WATCHING
LIBRARY CARD
A SLIGHT DETOUR
INTO THE WOODS
TOY STORY
THE NAKED FOREST
WEREWOLF 359
HERO IN A HALF ASS
FROM THE FRYING PAN...
I HEAR YOU KNOCKING
THE BLIND LEADING THE BLIND
DEAD CALM BEFORE THE STORM
PLAYING IN TRAFFIC
HITTING ON THE DOCK OF THE BAY
HIND-BLINDSIGHT
CHUMBALAYA
BEAST WARS
LUCKY HARMS
TRIPPING BILLS
YOU AIN’T THE BOSS OF ME
OF COURSE, THERE’S AN EPILOGUE ... DUH!
BONUS CHAPTER
AUTHOR’S NOTE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
For all those awesome people who returned after the roller coaster that was the Tome of Bill, proving to me this nerdy vampire still has plenty of life in him. You guys make stories like this possible.
Special thanks to my awesome team of beta readers – Ruby, Rachel, Anthony, David H., Walter, Pete, Kieren, David, Nick, Jeff, Lynn, Mark, Hezzy, and Stephen. You went above and beyond to point out all the parts of the early drafts that were good, less good, and what needed to be staked and buried for all eternity.
An additional big shout out of thanks to my awesome Patreon supporters – Caprice, David, Hasteur, Lee, Michael L, Michael S, Nick, Nicole, Pheonixblue, Shari, Simon, and Tina. You guys help make all of this possible.
BRAND NEW DAY, SAME SHIT
On the scale of shit that sucked, few things were less gratifying than having one’s own face slammed forcibly into a brick wall.
Crunch!
Oh wait, I almost forgot about a swift kick to the balls. Yep, that definitely topped a broken nose. Ugh, my aching nuts!
I slumped to the ground, knowing I couldn’t afford to stay down, despite wanting to do nothing more than curl up in a fetal ball and cry for my mother. Problem was, I had a feeling the pair of human shit stains laying into me weren’t finished, not by a long shot. I was simply one more stop on their merry murder spree, as they sought to paint the streets of New York red with the blood of their victims.
Someone needed to stop them, and that someone had to be me.
Okay, perhaps that’s being a bit melodramatic. The two fuckheads in question, one old the other young, were both freshly minted vampires – no more than a few weeks turned. That made them dangerous, sure, but it wasn’t like Godzilla and Ghidorah had washed ashore to level downtown Manhattan.
Besides, it’s not like I was chopped liver, even if my scrotum currently felt like it.
“That’s enough fun,” the older of the two said, a near-geriatric vamp with faded tattoos up and down his wrinkled yet still meaty arms. “Let’s drain this shitbox and get out of here.”
Powerful hands dragged me to my feet and spun me around – adding momentum to what I’d already been preparing to do.
In human terms, this would’ve been no contest. The one who’d grabbed me – a shaven ape with a massive beer gut and swastikas inked on both arms – was the sort of goon who’d probably be turned away at a Hell’s Angels gathering for being too scary looking.
Under normal circumstances, someone like me – all of five ten, wearing glasses, and a bit soft around the middle – would have to be crazy to tangle with this dickhead, unless they were a secret ninja or some shit like that.
I wasn’t.
However, being a secret vampire was almost as good.
“Drain this, fucker,” I snapped, clonking the younger of the two in the face with a backhand.
Fat Hitler went flying a good ten feet to land flat on his prodigious ass in a dirty mud puddle.
The older one, a guy who looked like he probably considered solitary at Rikers Island to be a relaxing weekend, bared his fangs at me.
“What the fuck?” he snarled, sounding about as surprised as I’d hoped he’d be.
“Sorry, did I forget to introduce myself?” I replied. “I’m the Freewill.”
“Freewill? You some kind of hippie queer?”
Oh yeah, I needed to remember the vast majority of vamps these days, nearly all of whom were no more than a few weeks old, had no idea what a Freewill was.
Not helping was that I’d skipped my well-rehearsed opening speech the second I laid eyes on these assholes. Most vamps I’d managed to track down so far had been given a choice. The ones who weren’t completely drunk on their own power were offered a chance to join the new coven I was forming, the primary rule of which was simple – don’t slaughter people like fucking cattle.
These guys, though, got shunted to the other option within about a second of seeing them – the one reserved for feral, blood-crazy vamps, or assholes who were obviously irredeemable pricks.
In this case, the decision was an easy one.
I’d caught scent of them in the middle of my patrol and then tracked them to one of New York City’s innumerable construction sites, where they’d been in the process of finishing off a security guard. It was too late for him, sadly. They’d not only drained the poor sap but had taken the time to stomp his skull into paste. On the upside, at least there was little chance of him rising again after that. One less vamp for me to worry about.
The dickheaded duo kept on pummeling the already quite dead guy, cackling like it was the funniest thing in the world, until the younger of the two suggested they find a woman next.
It didn’t take much eavesdropping with my supercharged ears to realize they were enjoying the fuck out of the depraved shit they’d already done and still planned to do. Needless to say, there wasn’t a lot of soul searching necessary before deciding on my course of action.
Which was probably stupid as fuck on my part.
Five years ago, this would’ve been a piece of cake, especially after I’d finally mastered the beast inside of me – a hell spawn of an evil spirit I called Dr. Death. I’d have splattered these fuckers across the sidewalk like so much paint. Now, though, we were in the same boat. My powers had only recently returned – thanks to the cataclysmically stupid actions of my idiot friend Dave, who somehow thought it was a good idea to hawk hand cream infected with vampir
e DNA. Combined with a little psycho named Gan, who’d managed to unleash magic on the world again, and you had the perfect recipe to turn my life into a shit soufflé.
Anyway, I was strong, fast, and tough, but no more than either of these baboons, and they had the advantage of looking like they knew how to handle themselves in a brawl.
Case in point, Gramps stepped in and took a swing at me, his arm moving like lightning. Fortunately, my reflexes were up to the task and I was able to block him, if just barely. Vampire he might’ve been but, judging by the look of surprise on his face, I felt safe in assuming that he was used to guys like me folding faster than a piece of origami.
That was the one beauty of being undead. In the normal world, size mattered. The big could bully the small. But vamp powers were the great equalizer. They could turn a peewee into a powerhouse, size be damned.
That was good for me. Not only did it save my face from being caved in, but it left me an opening to even the odds in this fight – and maybe even a bit more.
See, I wasn’t just making up some bullshit superhero name when I’d called myself the Freewill. It’s what I am, a rare breed of vampire – with abilities above and beyond the normal undead rabble. And one of those abilities harkened back to what Gramps here had threatened to do when he thought me still human.
Had they followed through and tried to drain me, it would’ve ended pretty badly, not just for me but for them, too. Vamp blood was toxic to most other vampires – the result kinda like eating potato salad that had been sitting in the sun for three weeks. However, most was the operative word there. Not only could I drink that shit down like a cold margarita in Tijuana, but doing so would temporarily grant me the strength of the other vampire as well. With younger vamps like these that didn’t mean much, but it would almost certainly be enough to turn the tide in my favor.
Of course, that assumed I could actually sink my teeth into one of them first.
Fangs bared, I stepped in before the old bastard could shove me away, only to be steamrolled from my flank by his buddy.
“No one touches Duke!”
Good to know he cared for the old guy. Mind you, that didn’t help me much as I was sent tumbling end over end until finally skidding to a halt against a dumpster, sending a small shower of crud falling onto my face.
By the time I rubbed the gunk out of my eyes, both meatheads were headed toward me again, looking none too pleased. It was nice to see the intervening years at least hadn’t robbed me of my ability to piss off other vamps. Speaking of abilities, though...
Yo, Dr. Death. Not to be a worrywart, but if you wanted to maybe come out and play, I have some fresh assholes for you to kill.
There came nary a peep from my subconscious or the beast residing within it. True, we weren’t quite at life or death yet, but there’d been nothing but radio silence from my inner demon ever since he’d taken up residence again upon my revamping. It was starting to make me nervous – him somewhere in my mind, likely plotting some insidious scheme that would leave him in charge and me little more than a drooling vegetable locked away in a tiny corner of my own brain.
“Think you’re tough, you little shitbag?” Fat Hitler said, hocking a generous loogie onto my chest. Ewww. “I used to eat little pricks like you for breakfast, and that was before. Now, we are so much more.”
I debated my best course of action, knowing they’d be upon me before I could even hope to get back up. “You used to eat little pricks? What’s the matter? Couldn’t handle the big ones?”
Veins stood out on the fat fuck’s forehead as his face contorted with rage. Oh yeah. That’s the thing about tough guys. They loved to dish it out but had absolutely no ability to take it. Even less so if you dared insult their fragile masculinity.
Forget the meek. That’s why the geeks shall inherit the Earth. We spend all day talking shit to one another, like how hard we banged each other’s moms. It builds up a tolerance for bullshit.
Of course, pissing off two death row inmate wannabes was one thing. Capitalizing on it was quite another.
Before junior could pop a blood vessel, though, the one called Duke actually laughed, but not in a “this guy is hilarious” sort of way. “Don’t let him get under your skin, boy. Little asshole knows he’s fucked. Just trying to talk big before we shitstomp him. Ain’t that right, pipsqueak?”
I shrugged. “Doesn’t hurt to try.”
“You got balls, kid. I’ll give you that much,” he replied. “Why not join us instead? I don’t know what you’re trying to prove by attacking us out here, but these streets can be ours for the taking.”
“Yeah, I know. I heard what you two were planning.”
“That? Who cares about a couple of bitches? None of that shit matters anymore. We take what we want, bite who we want, and fuck who we want. There’s a new order coming, one that’s rising like an angry tempest.” He gestured to the black armband around his elbow, similar to the one adorning his large buddy. Interesting. “And there ain’t nobody who can stop us.”
I was just about to say he was wrong, that he’d met Mr. Nobody himself. However, before I could so much as tell him to eat a bag of heroin-laced dicks, someone else spoke up, catching us all by surprise.
“You know, I really can’t stand men like you,” a female voice said from somewhere in the shadows behind them, “but maybe you’re right. There is a new order. Too bad neither of you are going to be a part of it.”
♦ ♦ ♦
Both goons spun toward where the voice had come from, blocking my view, but that was fine. I was far more interested in capitalizing on the distraction anyway.
As Fat Hitler stepped away to confront whoever had crashed our private party, I scrambled to my feet, almost slipping on the garbage slicked pavement. Regardless, up was up. That’s what mattered. But what mattered more was the fact that Duke had left his ample flank unguarded.
Leaping onto his back, I forced his head to the side and buried my fangs in his jugular. Hot blood gushed down my throat, hitting my stomach like a pipe bomb.
Heat bloomed against my insides and his strength instantly became mine. Fortunately, that was all that transferred to me, which was good because I had no interest in being a fucking skinhead slime ball. Taking one out, on the other hand, would likely be doing the world a service.
I snapped Duke’s right arm at the elbow, my strength now roughly double his, then reached into the inner pocket of my jacket and pulled out a stake. Well, okay, it was more a sawed-off broom handle, but whatever. It was the thought that counted, and right then mine was focused on ramming it through this motherfucker’s back with everything I had in me.
Oddly enough, he didn’t take it with grace and dignity – screaming like a little girl who’d gotten her pigtails pulled during recess. There was a sort of karmic justice in that.
A second or two later there came a flash of light from the wound I’d made, and then Duke ignited from the inside out, turning to dust before my eyes and coating the alleyway with yet another layer of garbage.
The bloody broom handle clattered to the ground, but I was already turning my attention toward the end of the alleyway where Duke’s buddy was ... also in the process of disintegrating?
He blew apart into ash, revealing a smaller figure standing behind him in the gloom. Whoever she was, she’d apparently impaled him with the business end of a crowbar. Ouch.
That wasn’t exactly an act that could be carried out easily by just anyone, especially since the vamp in question had been carrying enough extra mass around the middle to cushion a car crash.
I took a tentative step forward, remaining on guard. Anyone who could do that to a three-hundred plus pound biker vamp was nobody to mess with. My nose worked overtime as I tried to focus on her, but it was for naught. All I could smell was trash and vamp dust. And believe me, I had little interest in getting a noseful of either.
It was hard to get a handle on my somewhat timely savior, standing in a defensive crouch as s
he was. But if I had to guess I’d say she was about five foot seven, almost my height, but much more leanly built. She was wearing jeans and sneakers with her upper half clad in an oversized hoodie.
The hood itself left her face in shadow, but that shouldn’t have mattered dick-all to me. The upside of vampire senses was that – while it didn’t do shit for my fucking nearsightedness – it allowed me to see in perfect darkness. Nevertheless, the top portion of her face remained obscured, telling me she was likely wearing a mask or some other sort of covering.
Definitely interesting. It kinda reminded me of that time I’d taken Tom’s stupid advice to play vampire vigilante. Not one of my finer moments, although I had no way of knowing whether this woman was doing the same or simply had an overdeveloped BDSM fetish.
Rather than ratchet up the already thick tension, I decided to relax my gait. This person was likely trying to figure out whether I was friend or foe, but I’d sure as shit make that an easy decision if I came across as a swaggering asshole. “Thanks. I appreciate the assist.”
She grinned beneath the hood, giving me a momentary glimpse of fangs. At least that explained how she’d been able to impale one of the bad guys.
“Didn’t do it to save you,” she replied, “but you’re welcome anyway. That is, unless you’re looking to cause the kind of trouble they were.”
“In case you hadn’t noticed, I was fighting those fuckers, too.”
“Why?”
“Same reason you were, I’m assuming. Because they were out here to put the hurt on people who don’t deserve it.”
“And you’re not?” Her tone was defiant, but she relaxed her stance a bit, giving me a slightly better view of her face. From the nose down I got a hint of light brown skin. Above that, nothing but a black void. Definitely some kind of mask.
Bill of the Dead (Book 2): Everyday Horrors Page 1
