Little Dead Monsters

by Kieran Song

  “Cut myself shaving,” Tiberius replied which seemed to amuse Yoshida. He howled and slapped his leg.

  “You fight for me one day,” Yoshida said, breaking into English for the first time. “I’ll give you money, women, and power.”

  “I’ll consider it,” Tiberius said. “Now if you excuse me, there are several other guests I need to attend to.”

  The Romanian twins were the next to arrive. Unlike Yoshida, they needed no security to escort them. They were dangerous enough on their own. They owned the largest slave trafficking ring in Romania and their rise to the top of their empire was filled with a body count comparable to a mass genocide. Rumours had it that they did all the killing themselves.

  They were both enormous in size, similar to Tiberius in mass and height, and the scars on their arms and faces were a strong indication that they were well experienced in combat.

  Tiberius seated the twins next to Yoshida, who glanced at them, and turned his attention back to his translator and grunted.

  The burly American man, Overbrook, was the last to arrive. He entered into the viewing room smacking his lips and barking orders to his large entourage of men. Overbrook wore a powder blue suit that was two sizes too small for him and a dress shirt that was buttoned up to his chest, exposing coarse hair from his neck down which was the same shade of brown as his grizzly beard and patches of hair on his predominantly bald head.

  “Those headshots that Ryker sent me of the girl gave me the sweats,” he giggled. “When I win this auction, oh the things I’ll do to her.”

  He started listing off some phrases and slangs that Tiberius never heard of, but they sounded vulgar nonetheless. He immediately disliked the fat man and felt the urge to drive his fist through his obese belly and tear out his insides.

  “So when does this thing get started?” Overbrook asked as he wiped the sweat off his brow with a sleeve. “By the way, your face is quite a site. You look like some kind of mummy.”

  Tiberius ignored the man and guided him to the fourth and final seat, which was far too small for him. His fat spilt over the armrests like overflowing lard dribbling out of a cramped container. Overbrook’s congregation stood behind him, each one armed with a gun buried in their shoulder holsters.

  Ryker finally entered into the room and glanced nervously at everyone. He walked over to Tiberius and whispered into his ear.

  “If there is a problem, you and the guards are able to take care of it?” Ryker asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I’m counting on you. Once this auction is done, I can pay back Damien and get the hell out of here.”

  Ryker walked over to the viewing room’s console and began playing with the settings. Suddenly the lights dimmed in the room and the focus was on the illuminated red curtained stage behind the glass.

  He greeted the bidders.

  “Gentlemen, let me be the first to congratulate you on receiving this wonderful opportunity.”

  Overbrook was impatient. “Get on with it already,” he shouted. “I want to see some tits.”

  Ryker looked annoyed. He didn’t like being interrupted.

  “The anticipation is the best part. Where’s your sense of mystery and drama?” Ryker said. “What you’re bidding on is no ordinary whore. I’ve kept her beautiful for years. She’s as pure as a baby coming out of a mother’s womb. You’ve seen her photos so I don’t need to tell you that she’s a stunning beauty.”

  “Images can be airbrushed,” Overbrook said. “In fact, I do that to enhance all the photos of my ladies.”

  Ryker gave him an irritated look. “Do I look like a man who spends time in front of a computer airbrushing images? Now please, let me go on with this auction. I know your time is valuable, all of you, and I don’t want to waste it another second longer.”

  The translator whispered into Yoshida’s ear and he nodded in approval as he continued to stroke his chin. The two Romanians sat in silence with an ambivalent look on their faces. Overbrook leaned over to one of twins and smacked his lips. “I love an untouched piece of ass, don’t you?” he asked.

  The Romanian looked at the fat American and then scoffed at him with disgust.

  “Just trying to start a conversation,” Overbrook said. “No harm meant from it.”

  Ryker fiddled around with the console and after a couple of seconds, the red curtain began to rise. Everyone’s interest was piqued. Yoshida had a crooked smile on his face while Overbrook smacked his lips and chewed them as if they were gum. Even the Romanians leaned forward slightly in their chairs, the first signs of interest they had shown since their arrival.

  Allegra’s plan was falling into place. Dallas was the guard who was originally assigned to deliver her to the viewing room, but Tiberius made sure that never happened.

  Dallas had put up a struggle at first but Tiberius’s strength was overpowering and he broke the guard’s spine with an abrupt knee to his back. Dallas tried to scream but Tiberius’s large hands muffled his mouth and nose and carried him away into the arms of death. He hid the body in the underground dumps where the rats and flies lived.

  With Dallas out of the way, Tiberius escorted Allegra to the viewing room. Her head was covered in a black veil that hid her face and she was silent for the entire walk, which Tiberius found eerie. It was only when he unlocked the stage side entrance that she spoke. “This is it,” she said. “The end.”

  Tiberius tried to say something but she disappeared into the darkness of the stage before he could. Instead, Tiberius closed the door behind and headed for the Arena’s entrance to greet the potential buyers.

  And now, they all sat before the curtain, like chess pieces strategically positioned for Allegra’s grand finale. What she had in store for Ryker, Tiberius could only guess.

  When the red curtain was fully lifted, Allegra stood at the center of the light, veil still covering her face.

  Overbrook was impatient. “Take off that thing already and let’s see that pretty face of yours.”

  She complied, slowly lifting the veil for all to see. A wave of shock took everyone, even Tiberius found himself gasping.

  “Christ,” Tiberius said. “What did you do Allegra? What did you do?”

  Chapter Forty-Three.

  “Is this a sick joke?” Overbrook asked. “You have quite the nerve to offer us something like this Ryker.”

  Everyone in the room was paralyzed as they stared at Allegra through the glass window. Tiberius hardly believed what she had done.

  Her once beautiful face was gone, and in its place was the horrific visage of a black and red skull. It was a permanent tattoo created by Jacob, without a doubt.

  Like a phoenix rising from the flames, she was now reborn as a living specter of terror with the sole purpose of haunting one man, and one man only—Ryker.

  It worked.

  Ryker stared at Allegra with wide eyes and his mouth was twitching like a rodent chewing trash. He was terrified.

  Through the looking glass, Allegra glared at him with hateful eyes. Her terrifying image told the story they all needed to know; that for all these years, Ryker had tortured her, killed the people important to her, and now he had pushed Allegra far over the edge.

  She was no longer his slave. She was a messenger of his doom.

  The Romanian twins must have found amusement in all of this as they began laughing and speaking to each other in their language. The one with the scar on his face turned to Ryker and grinned. The cutthroat gesture he made was obvious of their intent.

  Even if the Romanians didn’t kill Ryker, Damien certainly would. Ryker no longer had his army to defend himself, most of them crippled or dead from the riot. Without protection, he was a dead man walking.

  “It’s over,” Ryker said as he fell to his knees. “I’m finished.”

  “Damn right you are,” Overbook cursed as he grabbed his antique revolver and pointed it at Ryker’s head. “My time is too valuable to waste. I should put a bullet in each one of yo
ur eye sockets, you greasy little rattlesnake.”

  The Romanian twin, with no scar, walked over to the console and pressed the button, closing the curtain on the stage.

  “I can look no longer,” he said. “Skull woman bad luck.”

  The scarred twin turned to Tiberius and spoke in a thick accent. “Leave us.” He pointed to Ryker.

  “No,” Tiberius shook his head. “I can’t let you do that.”

  Ryker looked up at him with childlike eyes. “Ty, you’ve never let me down,” he said. “Save me from them. I need to get out of this place.”

  Tiberius turned to the others in the room. “Give me five minutes with Ryker,” he said. “And then I’ll leave him to you.”

  “Ty? You can’t,” Ryker pleaded. “The Romanians, they’re animals. They’ll skin me and then cut off every limb.”

  Yoshida stepped forward and spoke with perfect English. “Romanians get your body. I get your head.”

  “After everything I’ve given you Tiberius, you can’t abandon me like this,” Ryker screamed. “I’m your master.”

  Tiberius turned to him. “Shut up Ryker. You’re done. At least live the last few minutes of your life with some dignity, if that’s even possible.”

  Tiberius turned back to the men in the room. “Five minutes,” he repeated.

  The scarred twin walked up to Tiberius and looked him in the eye. “Five minutes,” he agreed. “And then his body goes under my knife. Crazy Japanese man takes his head.”

  “What do I get?” Overbrook chimed as he scratched his belly with the butt end of his revolver. “I’m in this too.”

  “Big American gets leftovers,” the other twin laughed. “But leftovers very small after we done.”

  Overbrook scowled. “I’m sure I’ll find something I can do to the little bastard afterwards,” he muttered. “Let’s give them their five minutes.”

  They were finally alone. Tiberius stood like an ominous dark tower, casting his threat over Ryker, who knelt on the ground, quivering like one of his slaves from the pits.

  “You will die, that much is certain,” Tiberius said. “Whether or not you suffer first is a different story.”

  “Why are you doing this?” Ryker asked.

  Tiberius ignored him. “I want you to answer me. Is she still safe?”

  Ryker responded with laughter as tears poured from his eyes. It was the hysterical emotions of a man with no hope.

  “Why is this funny?” Tiberius said. “I’ll ask you again. Is she still safe?”

  “If I say yes? And then what?”

  “I’ll kill you myself and spare you from the Romanians.”

  Outside the sounds of gunfire went off followed by screams and then laughter, which came from the twins. The Yakuza was shouting in their native language, which was proceeded by more shooting.

  “The last of your men are being slaughtered outside,” Tiberius said. “You have no one left. The last thing you can do now is die with some self-worth. I ask you one last time, is she still safe?”

  “Yes,” Ryker replied. Tiberius didn’t believe him. He had seen the man lie enough times to know that he was lying now. He picked up Ryker by the collar and slammed him against the stone wall, his head bouncing off of it similar to a softball on concrete. It left a red smear against it. Blood trickled down Ryker’s nostrils and his eyes were glazed over.

  “Tell me the truth, where is she?!”

  “I sold her,” he spluttered.

  Tiberius dropped Ryker to the ground as he suddenly felt all strength leave him, his greatest fear now realized. “What?”

  Ryker propped himself up against the wall and smiled as he struggled to keep his head up.

  “Three days after the two of you came here, I promised you I would protect her,” he slurred. “I lied. Damien, that bastard, I sold her to him two days later.”

  Tiberius felt a hideous anger take control of him.

  Ryker coughed. “Who knows what Damien did with her since? Raped her a few times probably, then let the guards have their way with her afterwards. She’s probably dead now. There is no need for more whores in this world.”

  Tiberius screamed and the rage took hold of him in an unbreakable grasp. His actions were no longer his own as the anger and the wrath possessed him. Everything around him turned red. He roared like a feral beast and took Ryker’s head in between his monstrous hands and squeezed. Ryker’s horrifying screams only led Tiberius to intensify the pressure and he felt bone crunch underneath his palms and fingers, which clasped onto the pit master’s skull with the strength of vice grips. Ryker screeched out a name, but Tiberius ignored it as everything went red in his hands and Ryker’s head fractured into wet oblivion.

  Chapter Forty-Four.

  Allegra looked at her reflection in the mirror within Jacob’s room, now abandoned.

  The weak looking girl that she loathed was no longer there and in her place was a woman who haunted all those that caught a glimpse of her. She was now a prophet for death, its message tattooed on her face.

  Her beauty was lost forever.

  She closed her eyes and held onto that one image that made it all worthwhile: Ryker on his knees knowing that he was finished. Allegra’s looks were the one thing that could have saved Ryker, and she stole it away from him. As the curtain drew to a close, and Allegra stared at the Goblin’s face, she knew this was the last time she would see him alive.

  It took a few days to put together the plan but everything fell into place. Allegra had told Tiberius and Jacob of her scheme, but only what they needed to know.

  Tiberius was the shield that protected Allegra and brought her to where she needed to be and Jacob was the creator of her weapon, her death mask. Both had executed their roles flawlessly.

  Hours before the auction, Tiberius had eliminated Dallas along with a couple of other guards, clearing the path from her chambers to the viewing room. He gave both Allegra and Jacob GPS devices, before escorting Allegra to the auction. Their walk was in silence. She dared not speak. Allegra didn’t want Tiberius to ask about the face that she hid underneath the black veil, which served her as a sheath would for a sword. Her weapon was not meant for Tiberius and she would hide it until the time was right—when Ryker was looking straight at her.

  Jacob was tormented when she had requested to have the skull tattooed on her face. He was visibly upset as he placed the needle to her skin and Allegra needed him to be at his best. She was worried that his crying, resulting in unsteady hands, would affect the quality of the tattoo, but he assured her otherwise.

  “I’ll give you a new face, and it will be my best work,” he said as he continued to draw on her skin. “But it’s killing me Allegra. It’s just killing me.”

  “I want this,” Allegra had reassured him.

  And when Jacob was done, he looked at her and began to cry.

  “I ruined you,” he said. “I ruined your face. Dear God, what have I done?”

  Allegra looked in the mirror and shivered. Jacob had created a masterpiece and it was frightening.

  “This is the best thing you’ve ever done,” Allegra said. “Thank you.”

  “I hate it,” Jacob said. “I should have refused.”

  Allegra kissed him lightly on the cheek. “None of this is on you,” she replied. “It’s what I wanted. What you’ve done to me, I in return will use it to destroy Ryker and that’s all that matters.”

  Jacob nodded as he wiped his face with the back of his sleeve.

  She tried to smile, but it was difficult. She did her best nonetheless. “So tell me, truthfully, how do I look?”

  “You look like hell.”

  Allegra laughed and Jacob joined in and they embraced each other. All their tears and laughter over the years accumulated into that one single moment where they held onto each other, knowing they might never see each other again.

  “I’ll miss you,” Allegra finally said. “Do you know where you’ll go?”

  “Somewhere far away,”
Jacob had replied. He paused. “I always wanted to go to Paris. They embrace artistic vision and creativity.”

  “That sounds wonderful,” she said.

  “Come with me Allegra, when this is all done,” Jacob invited. “There’s this wonderful place in Paris called the Louvre and they have all these amazing paintings there. We can visit it every day and eat baguettes and cheese and drink wine until we can’t stand anymore.”

  “I want to,” Allegra said. But then she shook her head. “But I can’t. Not right now.”

  “You will leave this place, yes?” Jacob asked.

  Allegra avoided the question. “Paris sounds so beautiful. I wonder if a freak like me can even walk down the streets.”

  “I promise, I will fix you. We’ll restore your face to normal.”

  “Normal…” she paused on the word. “That sounds nice.”

  “You’ll come and visit then?”

  “Yes,” she said. Whether it was the truth or a lie, even she couldn’t tell. “I’ll find you at the Louvre.”

  “The Winged Victory. That is where I will wait for you,” Jacob had said.

  And now she stood in Jacob’s empty room. She glanced around and noticed that the tools were all still there. Jacob had left almost everything behind, except the pictures of the children he drew. They were all taken down from the wall.

  “Au revoir,” Allegra whispered to the empty room.

  Chapter Forty-Five.

  She wandered to the quarters where the other girls stayed. In the distance she heard more gunfire and screaming, but it didn’t seem to faze her. Allegra was tired of being afraid.

  She opened one of the chambers and found a couple of the girls huddled in the corner, holding each other and covering their ears. They were frightened by the gunfire.

  She spoke to them. “It’s me, Allegra.”

  The girls looked at her, shocked at first, but then their faces softened and turned into sympathy.

  “Allegra?” one of the girls, Shannon, asked. “Is that you? What did you do?”