Faith of a Monster Killer: Killing Forever Book 3

by David J. Phifer

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Author Notes

  About the Author

  FAITH

  OF A

  MONSTER

  KILLER

  Killing Forever

  Book 3

  By David J. Phifer

  Faith of a Monster Killer is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, incidents, and businesses are products of the author’s messed-up imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, event, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Faith of a Monster Killer

  Killing Forever Series Book 3

  The Forever People Paradox™ Saga

  By David J. Phifer

  Copyright© 2021 by David J. Phifer/Mod City Media, LLC

  Published in the United States by Mod City Media, LLC.

  All rights reserved. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright and Trademark Laws and Treaties. An unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system (including teleportational or cloning technology from the future, alien worlds, or parallel dimensions) without express written permission from the author or publisher.

  For behind-the-scenes art, videos, and cool other stuff, please check out davidjphifermedia.com where you can join the reader team and be part of the supernatural awesomeness.

  I dedicate this book to all of you

  who have big dreams and take the action to achieve them,

  no matter how many failures, doubts, twists, or turns;

  no matter how long it takes or how many people call you

  a fool for not conforming to the world’s standard.

  To all of you daring enough to live

  by your own North Star who have decided to create

  something spectacular in your life…or die trying.

  No matter what.

  Thank you for being outstanding.

  Chapter 1

  Nightstalkers

  “So… want to join a cult?” Wilcox asked, handing me a manila envelope by the campfire.

  The moon was full and the stars were clear and bright. The campground was pretty quiet, save for a few campfires around the lot and a couple of campers strolling the sidewalk. The only thing that was out of place was him. With his cold heart and dead soul, I wanted nothing to do with him.

  Joe Wilcox. Aka Josiah Wilcox. Aka billion-dollar asshole.

  He was already trying to woo my new hunting team. Maya seemed taken by him. But what else should I expect? She was twenty-one and not the brightest bulb in the shed. She took the term ‘bless her heart’ to a whole new level. Maya was too naive to know what kind of snake Wilcox was. And too easily wooed by a dopey smile and a kind word.

  Augie only liked Wilcox because Maya did. Trying to get the girl by pretending to like the things she does was his first mistake. His second mistake was having a monopoly on moronic behavior. His only redeeming quality was that he unapologetically owned it.

  My mistake was being around three people that could potentially all get my ass killed, whether on purpose or not. Especially when I had a death omen hanging over my head.

  It only made sense that Wilcox came back into my life at this precise moment. Life and Death were in a constant game of Strip Poker with my soul as the ante on the table. My life hung in the balance.

  And Death was about to play his hand.

  “It’s in a barren spot in the middle of nowhere,” Wilcox said, sticking the manila folder in my face. “Everyone who goes never returns. I suspect there’s a supernatural element involved. Something big and nasty.”

  I ignored the folder, interlacing my fingers behind my head and leaning back. “I have more important things to do,” I said, glancing at the stars. “Like contemplate the nature of my astrological sign. I hear Mars is in retrograde.”

  “Don’t be a dick, Sol,” he said, shaking the file. “I think you’ll be interested in this one.” He winked with a grin.

  I scoffed. “You wink at me one more time and I’ll staple your eyelids shut.”

  “Solomon, I’m offended—”

  “I know what’s behind your winks,” I said. “And your smiles.”

  He shrugged. “Fair enough.”

  “I don’t want to join your stupid cult, Wilcox,” I said, taking the folder and dropping it on the cooler. “I have enough problems with Poe on the loose.”

  “Stop being so bullheaded,” he said. “It’s an assignment. It may even have monsters to kill.”

  “I’m not the only hunter around.”

  “You just don’t want to do this because it’s from me,” he said.

  Augie and Maya ate their marshmallows and graham crackers in the seats beside us. They were painfully silent. They usually ran their mouths a mile a minute on repeat and still said a whole lot of nothing. So any amount of silence was highly unlike them. But welcomed.

  “You’re only half right,” I said. “The other half is that I don’t give a shit. You have agents who can do the assignments for you. I don’t take freelance jobs. I am not for hire. I’m here to find my son. And kill Poe and Blackwell. Period. You keep stuffing bullshit in my ear and I’ll add another name to that list.”

  Maya leaned over to me. “Boss, I think a getaway would be badass,” she said. “It will be like a vacation.”

  “Trust me,” I said, peering sideways at her, “it won’t be a vacation.”

  “But we can make some memories…”

  “I’m not here to make memories, goddammit.” I forget how young and immature Maya is. It made me want to chew off my own arm to get the hell out of there. “I’m here to kill evil sons of bitches.”

  “But maybe we could—”

  “Enough,” I said. “No more distractions. No more Pollyanna bullshit. No more bleeding hearts.” I glared at Wilcox. “Send your own damn people.”

  Wilcox shook his head. “I already sent two agents. Neither came back. Neither checked in. Neither can be reached.”

  I huffed. “They knew what they signed up for when they became hunters.”

  “They were two of my best, Sol. If they didn’t come back, it’s something bad. Apocalypse bad.”

  “Your agents are trained killers. They can handle themselves.”

  “One of the agents was even trained by you, Sol.”

  I sat up, raised an eyebrow, but sighed and turned away to feign disinterest. “Why does that matter?”

  “You’re not the
least bit curious?”

  “My curiosity in life died with the invention of selfies and fish lips.”

  “You stubborn asshole,” he said. “Just read the damn file.”

  “Ask me again and I’ll cram it down your throat until it comes out the other end.”

  He scoffed. “You haven’t changed one bit.”

  “Why would I change? I get the job done.”

  “Apparently not this one.” Wilcox jumped from his chair and dropped the folder at my feet. “Call me if you change your mind.”

  “Don’t wait by the phone, sweetheart. Daddy ain’t coming home.”

  “You’re a real prick, Solomon.”

  He stomped to his silver Lexus and slammed his door. He spun out of the park and honked as he drove by.

  I hadn’t seen Wilcox in almost seven years. And now the bastard brought me a hunting job? Like I’m his lackey?

  The fact that he lost two hunters on this assignment meant that he was sick of losing agents and thought he could get a freebie with me saving his ass. And if I got killed, then no skin off his nose. At least he didn’t lose another agent.

  Or a second option was that he knew that I’m better than all his hunters combined and was desperate enough to track me down to ask for a favor.

  “I’m going for a walk,” I said. I needed to think. I grabbed the manila folder and tossed it into the fire.

  I meandered around the campground by the water. The lake was peaceful. A few boats floated quietly in the distance, the moon lighting them up like a Renaissance painting.

  As I made my way along the lake, something crunched underneath my Timberland boot. It was a dead squirrel. The poor thing suffered, dying alone in what, at least to it, was a vast land of wilderness. I felt worse for dead animals than I did for dead people. And I was okay with that.

  Moonlight shined in the squirrel’s hollow eyes. I crouched down to study it. Until someone approached me from behind.

  “Sneaking up on me isn’t good for your health,” I said.

  “Sorry,” Augie said. “I was bored. And Maya was being bitchy.” He walked in front of me by the tree. “There’s another dead squirrel over here too. Do you think there was an epic squirrel battle and they murdered each other for the honor of the family name?” He snapped his fingers. “Nope, I know what it was. It was a woman. Only a chick could bring this much carnage. Some squirrel hussy played them, bro.”

  I grabbed the rodent and flipped it around to get a better look. Its skin was dry as ash. Clumps of fur fell into my hand. I pushed on the ribs of the dead carcass, pushing out a puff of dry, smoky air from its mouth.

  I sighed. “Dammit.”

  “What did you find?”

  “They didn’t kill each other,” I said. “They were drained.”

  “Does that mean that someone on the campground is Forever?”

  “Maybe. They could be long gone by now. But this was done recently.”

  “Why would they drain squirrels?”

  “It probably wasn’t intentional,” I said, tossing the squirrel by the tree. “Most likely, their core is low.”

  “Core? You mean their battery was too low.”

  “Good memory, kid.”

  “I’ve been reading more of your books since I started hunting.”

  “Good. Keep reading,” I said, dusting off my hands. “Generally, smaller creatures like insects or birds will die in the presence of a Forever who has low energy. When their battery is low, it will drain the life force around them automatically to sustain itself.”

  “But that’s only if the Forever person is dying, right? Their core is corrupted. They’re toxic now, right?”

  “If someone around here had a toxic core, we would know it. There would be dead pets all over the place. Dead children on the sidewalks. No, this was done by somebody with a low core who needed to recharge.”

  “Wonderful,” he said, throwing his hands up. “How do we find them in the dark? Do we wait until morning?”

  “We need to be out of here in the morning.”

  “What do we do? Just leave and let them kill the wildlife?”

  “Wildlife today. Boys and girls tomorrow,” I said. “We can’t wait until morning. We need to deal with this. Tonight.”

  “You mean we have to track them down and destroy them before the sun comes up?”

  “Now that you mention it…”

  “How on Earth do we do that?” he asked, pacing by the water, twigs breaking under every step. “We don’t know who this guy is, where he is, or how many of them there are. How do we hunt them in the dark?”

  “Not hunting. More like fishing,” I said. “We’ll draw them out. Bring them to us. We’ll find them.” Several people passed by, but they were human. “We need to get back to Maya.”

  We left the dead squirrels and headed back to our campsite. A boy sat next to Maya by the fire. He was in his early twenties. With spiky dark hair and an eyebrow ring, he looked like he was trying out for the next version of the Backstreet Boys. I instantly wanted to hurt him.

  Maya giggled like a little schoolgirl, flattered by the attention. She had a thing for being liked. She craved it.

  Even if she didn’t care about the guy ogling her, she wasn’t one to deny the attention. And this snot-nosed punk had two things going for him: he was a mysterious stranger, and he wasn’t August McKenzie.

  Augie scowled. “Just great,” he said. “It’s that kid Maya was hanging out with earlier. She’s crushing on him hard.”

  “You sound jealous.”

  “He’s twenty years old with a chinstrap beard and no mustache. The dude looks like an Amish death-metal freakazoid. He probably does heroin and kicks kittens.”

  “You are jealous.”

  “I’m not jealous,” he said. “He’s just trying way too hard to be cool. Oh God, I hope he’s Forever. I would love to cut off that cocky little head of his. Pop goes the weasel, dickhead.”

  We approached them at the fire. I sat across from the kid and grinned. “Maya, who’s your friend?”

  “This is Marcus,” Maya said. “He’s here with his family. He’s only a few lots over.”

  I eyeballed the punk up and down. Sociopaths aren’t hard to spot. Noticing a Forever Person is even easier. That is, if they know they’re Forever. It’s harder in the dark to spot the subtle movements that give them away, but not impossible.

  It would seem we had some good fortune tonight. The kid saved us from putting in the leg work. We didn’t have to go fishing after all.

  “August,” I said. “Remember what we were talking about earlier? About popping the weasel?” I asked, staring at the monster in front of me. “You may get your wish.”

  Marcus was Forever.

  Chapter 2

  Things Can Change on a Dime

  Moonlight is magical. Literally. There’s an extraordinary quality to it that allows for spellcraft. It enhances the effects of arcane magic and reveals the harsh truth most people go out of their way to ignore. The cloak of evil falls away like a cheerleader’s dress on prom night as it unveils the shrouds of illusion.

  Knowing these unique qualities of moonlight has saved me more than once in my life. Tonight might be one of those nights.

  As Marcus sat there, flirting with Maya, the moonlight reflected off his eyes. Sometimes, the pale light gives away a little twinkle of color that shouldn’t be there. Easy to miss if you’re not looking for it.

  Even without the moon, there’s always an unholy cocktail of clues: the hollowness behind the kid’s voice, his undeserved confidence, and overly smooth muscle movements told me that Maya’s new crush wasn’t human.

  This kid was going to die tonight.

  I smiled. “Marcus, we need to have a family meeting,” I said. “Alone.”

  “Gotcha,” he said, turning to Maya. “See you later?” He touched her leg in a way that made me want to sever his hand right there.

  Maya fist-bumped him. “Later, gator.”


  I grabbed his shoulder as he passed. “Maybe we can meet your parents later tonight,” I said. “Get to know each other a bit.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “Coo, coo.”

  Obviously, that was his way of saying ‘cool.’ What an idiot. Kids can’t even talk right nowadays. Even inhuman ones. The sooner he was dead, the better this world would be.

  As he left our campsite, I kept an eye on him to see where he headed. Three sites down. His fake family had a large RV with an American Eagle on the side. Trying to act like a real American law-abiding family. They even had bumper stickers on the RV.

  The typical ones like My kid is Student of the Month and Coexist. They even had a peace sign sticker. They were trying way too hard not to stand out. To seem like the perfect family.

  Gotcha, assholes.

  The kid’s fake parents were sitting around a campfire. They saw me and waved. I waved back. They had a teenage daughter who left them and went on her own.

  Maya shrugged. “So what’s this family meeting about?” she asked. “Did Augie finally hit puberty?”

  Augie fake laughed. “Wow, you’re so funny, A regular comedian. Guess what? I’m going to kill your boyfriend.”

  Maya pointed at him. “Don’t you go near him. Or I will hurt you something fierce, McKenzie.”

  I propped my foot on the cooler and leaned in. “He’s not kidding, Maya. We have to kill him.”

  She scrunched her face. “What’s going on?”

  I nodded. “The boy is Forever.”

  She crossed her arms. “He is not.”

  “His whole family is,” I said, sitting down. “They’re probably not a family at all. Just posing as one.”

  “How do you know he’s Forever? And don’t say because you’ve been hunting your whole life. I’m tired of hearing it.”

  “I’ve been at this thirty years, kid,” I said. “I know what I know.”

  Augie smiled. “We get to murder his ass.”

  She scoffed. “Fuck you both,” she said, planting her face in her palms. “Why do all the cute ones have to be monsters?”

  “If you can’t handle it,” I said, “Augie can take care of it.”

  Augie whipped out his hunting blade. “I’d be happy to take care of it.”