The Monster Games (Fright Squad Book 2)

by Flint Maxwell

  He stopped in the middle of the walkway lined with monsters. In one hand he held a torch that burned a sickly green flame. His other hand stretched out its long fingers in a wave. There was so much blood on those hands, crusted beneath the long, sharp fingernails. But what else could we expect? The Boogeyman was a walking promotion of what monsters loved doing best.

  He was tall and thin. He wore a dark cloak with the hood down. His face was corpse-pale. His lips were black. Eyes yellowish.

  I saw him smile and I saw that his smile was normal in the human-sense. He had a good smile, a winning politician’s smile. On his head sat a crown made of twisted bones. Ancient. On his hip was a staff with an orb at the top. It is said a great power lies within that orb, the lost souls of the countless victims the Boogeyman had devoured. Not many people can wield such a power. It would be dangerous to even try.

  Now he put his arm down and the crowd, buzzing with excitement, began to quiet down.

  Up the platform he came. He shook hands with all the monsters—those who had hands, at least—looking them in their eyes and spoke words I couldn’t understand in a soft voice.

  Then he came upon the Fright Squad. He looked us over as if we were trash. Much to the crowd’s pleasure. He didn’t shake our hands.

  I was glad. I didn’t know if I wouldn’t have punched him, too. I’d imagined I could get away with punching a ‘Stein who I was expected to kill in less than twenty-four hours’ time. But the Boogeyman…punching him wouldn’t sit too well.

  On the platform, raised on a dais, which was just another platform on top of this platform (stupid, I know) sat a bubbling cauldron. I was not surprised to see the Saber Corporation’s logo stenciled in white on the black iron. Wondered if they allowed sponsors two-hundred years ago. Probably not. Then again, think of the Olympics. McDonald’s and Coca-Cola of all businesses are some of their biggest sponsors.

  The Boogeyman dipped the torch into the cauldron. It started bubbling furiously. Spilled drifting fog. The crowd, surprisingly, remained quiet for this sacred ritual. Well, mostly quiet. There was a series of sharp whispers sweeping through the surrounding stadium seats. All the monsters I could see in the crowd were wide-eyed, slack-jawed.

  The bubbling stopped and flames spouted from the large cauldron. Shot straight into the sky, an electric green.

  The crowd broke out into more cheers as the Boogeyman stood before the cauldron with his arms wide open. He ate it up.

  This went on for a solid five minutes. I’m not kidding.

  Some of the participants had tears in their eyes.

  The Fright Squad? Well, we looked around and at each other with confusion.

  “So they burned some water,” Zack said. “Psh, I do that every time I try to make pasta.”

  To more cheers the Monster Monarch took the microphone out of the worm-man’s grubby hands.

  “Good evening!” the Boogeyman said. “And welcome to the Monster Games!”

  More cheers.

  “We have many action-packed days in store for you, my monstrous friends! But first, I’d like to bring attention to the great monsters who have made the reemergence of the Monster Games a reality.”

  A large spotlight shined in the upper reaches of the stadium. There, next to large banners proclaiming the Saber Corporation’s greatness, was a glassed-in box. The type of place you might see executives and big shots watching an NFL game from.

  On the big screens all around the arena, the faces of a few bejeweled monsters raised their hands, claws, and various unsettling appendages.

  Maddie leaned over. “There’s Marena Psydin,” she whispered.

  She sat in her portable vat of water. Fake smile. She raised her webbed hand in a wave. Like the gaslings, the mermaids fingers ended in vicious claws known to tear the heart out of any unlucky man or woman lost at sea who might have stumbled upon their territory. I was sure Marena had torn many hearts out.

  Living in Ohio, BEAST never dealt with the mermaids because they mostly stuck to the oceans. Though, from time to time they’d been known to end up in a river or a lake. Not for long otherwise they’d die without the salt water. From what I’ve heard, we were lucky not to have to deal with them.

  The other suit-and-ties waved, too. A mummy without a head wrap. Dusty face. Cheekbones as sharp as the mermaid’s claws.

  A golem.

  And a tall demon in a tailored suit.

  They were a bunch of corporate types. You’d never see them out and about wreaking havoc and killing, monsters nor humans. It would hurt their image. Couldn’t risk that. But these corporate types had a lot of clout in the monster world. Case in point: they got a basilisk to attack us back in our tent last night. Not many people without clout could do that.

  “Yes, without the wonderful Saber Corporation, these Games would be nonexistent. I don’t know about you, but I could not stand another two hundred years without them!” the Boogeyman said.

  The crowd shouted back their derision.

  “We have many strong competitors on this stage with me tonight,” the Boogeyman continued. “It is going to be quite a joy watching them compete for the items.”

  More cheering.

  “But the items are worthless without the Champions’ bracelets.”

  More cheers.

  “Without further ado,” the Boogeyman continued, “I shall bestow them upon our Champions!”

  A husky minotaur and a cyclops carried a treasure chest up the platform and set it on the table surrounding the podium, where the worm-man sat.

  The minotaur and cyclops bowed and drifted down the platform, back into line with the other monsters on the walkway. They were handed their flags again. Raised them high. The sigil of the cyclopes was a dot. The sigil of the minotaur was a bull with long curving horns.

  Inside the chest, the Champions’ bracelets glinted.

  Flashbulbs erupted all around the stadium. I couldn’t get a good look at the bracelets because I was blinded by the cameras. Luckily for me, they eventually stopped taking pictures.

  I saw the bracelets were pure gold, about half an inch thick. If I could describe them in one word it was money. Because these bracelets must’ve set the Saber Corporation back a good amount of it. But I figured that didn’t matter much to them. They had their hands—or claws—in a lot of different businesses. From what we’d learned about them, their biggest business was weapons manufacturing. Another red flag. We didn’t know the true reason they wanted the gaslings’ slime, but we figured it wasn’t for anything good. Could they make weapons out of the slime? I wasn’t sure. Wouldn’t put it past them, though.

  The Boogeyman went down the line and handed the bracelets to the monsters with a bow. The crowd ate this up. Seeing the Boogeyman, self-proclaimed Monarch of the Monsters, bow was something they’d apparently never expected.

  So many cameras went off that for a moment it didn’t seem like nighttime around the Rodanian Mountains any longer.

  Each monster took their bracelet gracefully. Except for a ‘Stein. One of them had been so eager to take it from the Boogeyman that it had accidentally crushed the gold in its palm.

  Seeing this sickened me. Mostly because that ‘Stein had just crushed enough gold to keep our little monster-hunting business afloat for the better part of a decade.

  “No worries!” the Boogeyman said. He gave the ‘Stein another one and a minotaur snuck up the stage and deposited another gold bracelet in its place. Took the crumpled one. Who knew what would become of it?

  Then, of course, the Boogeyman came upon us. The demons had received their bracelets just before, but they weren’t paying any attention to it. They, like everyone else in the arena, had their eyes glued on the humans.

  A smattering of boos erupted when the camera zoomed up on our faces. We didn’t look very good. We looked like we’d been attacked by a basilisk the previous night and didn’t get much sleep afterwards.

  The Boogeyman stamped his staff down. It didn’t look particu
larly heavy but the sound of it hitting the platform echoed all around the stadium. Everyone silenced.

  The staff disgusted me. It was the yellow-white of old bones yet it rippled with a lively energy.

  Maddie shifted away. Zack put a comforting hand on her lower back.

  I stood my ground. I knew that the reason that staff rippled with lively energy was because of the souls within it. All those people frightened to death by this entity before me. The majority of them probably children. Then, in the globe at the end of the staff, I saw something. It was the screaming face of a person in pain. Of countless faces in pain.

  My stomach lurched. Head spun. I started flexing my hands into fists. Found that the right one was already feeling sore.

  But I had to remind myself that I wasn’t here for the Boogeyman. I was here to win the Monster Games.

  It was like the Boogeyman knew this, too. He smiled knowingly, as if to say Try me. If I went for him, if I slugged him like I’d slugged the ‘Stein, there was no way we’d make it to the Champions’ feast, let alone the first task, in one piece. We’d probably end up becoming the feast.

  Before the boos could begin again, the Boogeyman spoke up.

  “Now, now, there is no need for that! The humans are a fine race. They have done much in this world. Not so much in the other worlds, but that’s another story. They’ve filled me up as well. And that alone is worth a round of applause.” The Boogeyman cackled. It was a high and mocking laugh. Exactly how I’d expect the boogeyman to laugh. The crowd broke out into applause, but I didn’t think it was for us so much as it was for the Boogeyman’s joke.

  He continued. “I think I speak for all of us, humans, when I say that we look forward to watching you die.”

  With that, he dropped the three bracelets from his hands. They clonked on the platform at our feet.

  The crowd ate this up.

  I bent down, got the bracelet, and put it on my wrist. Maddie and Zack did this, too, though I could tell Zack was fuming. His ears had gone pink and Maddie had a cautious hand on his forearm in case he thought of doing something stupid.

  Leave that up to me.

  Before I could, however, the Boogeyman turned away, his long, gangly arms open wide. Hugging the entire crowd. He stood over by the flaming cauldron.

  “Let the Games begin!” he shouted.

  A barrage of fireworks painted the sky in reds, blues, greens, purples. Shook the entire platform. Every monster in attendance was on their feet. Again, if they had feet. Clapping. Howling. Hooting.

  The Monster Games had officially started.

  18

  Feast on This

  “You did well,” Octavius said as we left the platform and went back through the portcullis.

  The Champions’ feast was next. It wasn’t open to the public, but it would be broadcast all around the world. So that meant it would be filled with cameras and monster journalists. That meant the Fright Squad would be the butt of many jokes.

  I didn’t want to go.

  “Punching that ‘Stein in the face,” Octavius said. “Your father would’ve been proud.”

  “Yes, yes,” Fizzler said. “Our king is proud as well. The queen…not so much.”

  “Sorry,” I said.

  “Do not apologize!” Fizzler said. “The elders need a shakeup. Your race’s violent nature is quite…a shock.”

  “Great,” Zack said, “Abe punches one ‘Stein in the face and he’s a national gasling hero.” He scowled at Maddie. “You should’ve let me punch the Boogeyman!”

  “And get us all killed?” Maddie said. “Yeah, right.”

  I turned to Octavius. “Any word on the first task?”

  He had some clout among the monsters, too. Surprisingly. I thought they would’ve hated him as much as they hated us. Turned out they respected him. Complete opposite. Octavius may have been a hell of a monster-master, but he was a fair monster-master. If you didn’t break any laws against humans, he’d let you go. Plus, you know, he wasn’t participating in something as sacred to the monsters as the Games. Octavius acted the way anyone in BEAST should’ve acted. But that was rarely the case. Lorne and Dalton from the SOD were the epitome of how not to act.

  Octavius shook his head. “I’m afraid not. Everyone’s tight-lipped. It’s the first Monster Games in a long while. They’re doing everything they can to keep it a surprise.”

  “What about the basilisk?” Maddie asked.

  “Oh, we ate its remains,” Fizzler said casually.

  Man, that was gross. I tried picturing anything else besides the gaslings eating the giant snake.

  Even Octavius cringed at this.

  “Not what I meant…” Maddie said.

  “Dude,” Zack said, “how was it?”

  “Delicious,” Fizzler answered. “Fried basilisk is quite a delicacy. Not something us gaslings get a lot.” My stomach roiled again. Fizzler looked at me. His bottom lip drooped. “Again, we do not possess your gift of a violent nature.”

  “I’m usually not violent,” I said. “Not unless I have to be. There’s nothing wrong with that, I think.”

  “Yeah,” Zack echoed. “If a basilisk slithered into your house while you were sleeping wouldn’t you want to kick its snake ass?”

  Maddie said, “I’m pretty sure snakes don’t have asses.”

  “You’d be surprised,” Octavius said.

  We arched our eyebrows at the old monster-master.

  “I-I don’t know what I would do,” Fizzler answered. “I suppose I’d ask the basilisk to kindly leave my home.”

  “That won’t work!” Zack shouted.

  A group of witches ambled by us, giving us their meanest glares from behind their crooked, warty noses. I was never fond of witches. Still, I smiled at them. Wouldn’t hurt to at least try to get someone on our side.

  “I suppose I don’t know what I would do,” Fizzler said.

  “You’d kick his snake ass!” Zack said. “That’s what you’d do. You’d take a damn selfie with it and make the basilisk stare at it until his eyeballs turn to ash!”

  “I am afraid I don’t think I could do such a thing,” Fizzler said.

  “That’s okay,” Maddie said. “The world is violent enough.” She motioned behind her at the arena. A fitting example of the kind of violence the world thrived on.

  “There’s nothing wrong with standing up for yourself, though,” I said. “Fizzler, I think you may have to when this is all said and done.”

  “I have no worries, Abraham. I know you will emerge from the flames victorious. And the monsters as well as the gaslings shall bow at your feet.” The swamp creature bent his knees as if to show me exactly what he meant, but I grabbed his slimy arm before he could do it.

  I shook my head. “Bow to no one, Fizzler.”

  Also, if any other monsters saw him bowing to humans I didn’t think he’d make it to the feast in one piece.

  The feast was held in a large, circular room. The place was built right into the Rodanian Mountains. So close to the gaslings’ dwellings that I could see the tree Gizzler took me up a week ago standing on the rising land.

  Saber Corporation’s banner hung all over the walls. The biggest banners hovered above the head table. That was where the Boogeyman and the bigwigs of the monsters sat. The representatives from the Saber Corporation, too.

  The mermaid Marena Psydin kept shooting me dirty looks. Like she was surprised her basilisk failed in killing us. I wanted to flip her off. Didn’t.

  It would take a lot more than a surprise basilisk attack to kill us. I wish I could’ve told her this. But she never got close enough. Not yet, at least. When I mentioned this to Maddie, she put on her best motherly I’m-disappointed-in-you face, and I knew there was no chance I was leaving our dinky table in the back of the room.

  That was where they sat us. Go figure. It was right by the bathrooms. How was that, you ask? Let me give you a hint. Most monsters elected not to use the toilets. Most of them decided the floor
was to their liking.

  Octavius and Fizzler sat with us. Slayer and Gizzler had taken a liking to one another and were back at the swamp, watching the ordeal with the elders, who were too afraid to show themselves. For good reason.

  The fact they’d nominated humans in their place did not sit well with anyone from the Saber Corporation. Octavius told me there was talk about changing the rules. The Saber Corporation had the final say in the matter, didn’t they? They were the ones funding this whole sickening affair.

  In the end, they opted not to. Thought the drama was good for ratings. Octavius had other ideas. He said it was because the monsters watching the Games wouldn’t sympathize with such a lowly race as humans. And since the humans and the gaslings had formed an alliance, the support for the Saber Corporation’s eventual takeover of the swamps, the slime, and the Rodanian Mountains—all mostly belonging to the gaslings—would be through the roof.

  A posse of photographer gremlins and golems, who were dripping clay all over the floor, hovered around our table.

  I’d hoped they’d eventually get bored with us. We weren’t doing anything particularly interesting. But they never did.

  They must’ve taken a thousand pictures each. By the time the feast was over I knew I wouldn’t see worth a damn.

  Then the food came and I kind of wished I’d been blinded.

  It was not food meant for humans, that was for sure.

  Zombies dressed up in suits and ties, their faces peeling off, their bodies in varying states of disgusting decay, brought over pitchers of blood, baskets of fried hearts, closed vials of floating white gases (undoubtedly souls), pickled fingers, horse hooves, cow heads, goblets full of chilled brains, and so much more disgusting stuff. The zombies kept looking at us. Wanted to eat us. It took a lot a self-control not to, I bet.

  “Can we just go?” Zack asked, poking at a semicircle of severed toes arranged on a bed of lettuce. “I think I’d rather eat the mayonnaise and pickles off of the tent’s floor.”