I patted the gasling on the shoulder. “I meant I’m willing to compete in your stead.”
“Oh,” Fizzler said, nodding.
Next thing I knew I was back in his fish arms and fighting for breath. This time, though, Zack and Maddie thought it would be funny if they joined.
So, there we were, in some weird cave with equally weird pools of slime bubbling all around us—not to mention the breathing eggs incubating baby gaslings—having a group hug.
When I finally could breathe again, Fizzler was thanking us and shaking our hands so hard that I thought our arms would pop out of their sockets. Then he said, “We must tell the elders. They will be so pleased meeting you, knowing you are going to the Monster Games in our stead. Or, shall I say, you are all down for the competition?”
He chuckled, which didn’t sound much better than his normal, raucous laugh.
“Come, come! Let us go meet with them!” Fizzler continued.
I shook my head. “Listen, Fizzler, we’re pretty tired. Us humans need sleep. We’d love to meet your elders, just not right now.”
“Yeah,” Maddie added, “we’d love to, but right now we need to head back home.”
Fizzler stood straight. The liveliness in his eyes didn’t fade, and he was still wearing a menacing smile that wasn’t at all meant to be menacing, I’m sure.
“Say no more,” Fizzler said. “We will have plenty of time for introductions. Until then—”
But that was all I heard before I was sucked back down the metaphysical tube that had gotten us here, and three long seconds later, I was on my knees on my dirty, crumb-covered apartment carpet. Maddie and Zack were in front of me. Maddie’s hair was everywhere and Zack was busy searching for a bucket he could throw up in. Slayer didn’t even flinch, his eyes wide, taking in Spongebob like it was some religious experience.
I was glad to be back home.
10
Digging Our Own Graves
After a good night’s sleep filled with dreams of smelly eggs, our heads cleared, we decided we should get more information from an outside source. Since Octavius was currently tanning in the Bahamas, we settled for Val, NOD’s former doctor.
She was waiting outside of her door when we pulled up later that same day.
“Lo and behold! Thy Fright Squad!” she said, clapping her frail hands together. She looked at me. “How is thy backside?” she asked.
I didn’t answer.
Zack answered for me, but he didn’t say what I expected.
“Abe isn’t too fond of the Shakespearean speech,” he said. “It reminds him too much of high school. ‘To be or not to be!’” Zack was standing in the dark alleyway with his hand stretched out like a stage player.
Maddie was about to hit him for either being rude/blunt or for his own terrible delivery of Prince Hamlet’s most famous line right when Val nodded her head and said, “Oh, sure. No problem. Why didn’t you just ask, my young friends?”
My jaw dropped. Zack and Maddie exchanged surprised glances, their eyes wide.
“Wait…” I said, “all we had to do was ask?”
“Amazing, isn’t it,” Val replied, “what can happen when one asks?”
“So the Shakespeare thing, it’s just an act?” Zack said.
Maddie hissed. “Zack!”
“What? We’re good enough friends for me to ask that, right Val?”
“Oh, sure,” Val cooed. “Yes, I am just fond of the Bard and the way Englanders talked all those years ago. No big deal. Now, come in, come in. It is much too cold outside and I fear we have very big things to discuss.”
She disappeared through the doorway. We followed her, our heads undoubtedly spinning.
“So,” Val said, once the door closed behind us (on its own, I might add), “you are here because you wish to know the winning numbers for the Powerball, correct?”
“Uh…” I said, “not quite.”
“Hm, curious,” she said. “I’m hardly ever wrong.”
Well, it was more like she was hardly ever right, but I kept my mouth shut for fear of Maddie punching me.
We went into her sitting room. Nothing had changed much since we’d last been here when she had told us of the vision that came to her while stitching my butt-wound up. There were various stacks of books and newspapers, mounted animal heads, deer, bears, a particularly vicious looking wolf, old television sets, a record player with a record spinning around and around but emitting no music. It was a packrat’s dream.
Each animal head above the mantel seemed to follow us with their eyes, making us quite uncomfortable. Val’s entire labyrinthine place was a crash course in uncomfortableness. From somewhere, a growl echoed among the corridors. We all looked toward the threshold that led into the hallway. A single candle was burning there and casting flickering light.
“Do not worry, my friends,” Val said. “Spike is locked up.”
“Spike?” Maddie said. “A werewolf?”
Val nodded. “Don’t worry. His cage is unbreakable.”
She motioned to a moth-eaten couch that looked like it was meant to be sitting by the curb on trash day. Zack grabbed a handful of newspaper and put the pages on the cushions. Val didn’t take this as rude, like Maddie seemed to think she would.
The cushions wheezed and groaned like live things when we sat down, drowning out the sounds of the crinkling paper.
“What are you doing with a werewolf?” Maddie asked. “Isn’t that illegal in BEAST’s eyes?”
“I no longer work for BEAST, Miss Pepper.”
Val wasn’t working for BEAST anymore because she didn’t want to relocate. When they shut down the NOD, everyone who worked there—Octavius, Storm, the Bateman twins, Pam, Bubba, Lyles, Lola, and a score of goblins—all took jobs elsewhere. Basically everyone besides the Fright Squad and Valentine. I had to swallow down a lump of unease when I came to the realization that we decided to follow in Val’s footsteps instead of Octavius’s. But I couldn’t worry about that now. We had answers to find out.
Smiling, Val sat on an old rocking horse opposite of us. It also looked like it belonged out at the curb. The wood was paled by sunlight and damp weather, one of the horse’s button eyes hung by a string, reminding me of a zombie, and the frayed ropes meant to be its mane wiggled as if some kind of bug had made its home there. Val was not a big woman, but she looked much too big for the horse. It creaked as it rocked back and forth, back and forth. The three of us, though, we didn’t think very much of it. Coming to Val’s was always a study in weirdness. At this point, I think it would’ve been weird if she didn’t act odd.
“Besides, Spike and I are in love,” Val said. Her own wrinkled cheeks went rosy.
“I have so many questions,” Zack said, raising a finger. But as he opened his mouth to ask said questions, I nudged him. “Right,” he mumbled.
We were here for answers, just not answers about what Val did in her free time with locked up werwolves. Not that I really wanted to know that anyway…
“So…” Val began, her eyes rolling backward. This was a sure sign of one of her “visions.”
We watched her convulse on this rocking horse, the wood creaking and threatening to break, for a minute or so.
“Did you guys see that trailer for that new alien-invasion movie?” Zack asked.
Maddie shook her head.
I said, “No.”
“Looks good. I think it comes out this summer. We should see it sometime,” Zack said.
“I’m game. What’s it called?” I asked as Val convulsed even more violently. To the uninitiated, one might think Val was having a serious seizure or, at the very least, a panic attack, but this, like all the weird stuff inside, was normal.
“This year’s Super Bowl winner!” Val shouted. “Hmm, hmmm, let me think.” She brought her bony fingers up to her temples and closed her eyes.
“Definitely won’t be the Browns,” Zack mumbled.
“No, Val, that’s not it,” I said.
&nbs
p; “Just let us tell you,” Maddie said.
Val brought one side of her mouth up in a snarl. “Fine. Do tell.”
“Well, it’s not really telling…” I said. “We just had some questions, questions we figured you’d know the answers to.”
Val rolled her eyes back again, her lips quivering, but I continued on before we could get another bogus answer.
“The Monster Games,” I said. “We just want to know more about the Monster Games.”
The sitting room went deathly silent. The record not playing any music scratched. I felt like we were witnessing the final plot twist of a really bad TV movie.
“Oops, sorry about that,” Val said. She took the needle off the record and turned back to us, bringing a finger up to the hairy mole on her chin. “The Monster Games. ’Tis quite the topic around the supernatural community, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” I said, not letting on to the fact that the first we’d heard about the Monster Games’ reemergence was just the night before. Since we were no longer in BEAST, I guess we were out of the loop.
“What would you like to know?” Val asked.
“Everything,” Maddie said.
From another room, the werewolf howled. I could’ve sworn it was getting closer, but put this to the back of my mind.
“Big deal,” Val said, rocking gently. “I, myself, have bet good money on the cyclopses.”
“Why?” Zack asked. “I mean, the cyclopses? Talk about big oafs.”
“Precisely,” Val said. “The little birdies have told me that brute force will be the theme in this years Games, so who better to bet on than the cyclopses?”
Brute strength. That didn’t sound good. I slid my hands under my legs to quell their shaking, crinkling the newspaper in the process. If there was anyone who couldn’t excel in competitions built around brute strength, it was us.
“The vampires, too,” Val continued. “With their cunning and animalistic instinct, I believe they will be a close second.”
The werewolf growled loudly, raising the hair on the back of my neck. We had come into Val’s unarmed. Having come from the Starbucks up the street, we didn’t even have weapons in the Cruiser, either.
“Oh, sorry, Spike!” Val shouted, leaning to the side. Then she whispered, “He doesn’t like it much when I say the ‘V-word.’”
“What are the tasks?” I asked.
Maddie piggybacked off of this question. “Is it the same set up as used to be?”
“Yes,” Val said. “Three tasks, each dealing with a different element.”
“And they’re still doing the Hunt?” Maddie continued.
I realized my question was long-forgotten. I decided that was okay. Maddie was the thinker of our group…as well as the best shot…and most level-headed. Best to let her talk.
I vaguely recalled my father’s old textbook again, stating something about the elemental tasks. Fire, water, earth, wind…that kind of stuff.
“Yes, they are.” Val held up a finger. “Just a second.” She left the room, her steps shuffling along the linoleum—swish, swish, swish.
“What’s the Hunt?” I asked.
“That sounds pretty bad,” Zack added.
“It’s not,” Maddie said. “Really, you guys should try reading more.”
Zack frowned. “No reason to read about the Monster Games when they’ve been defunct for two-hundred years.”
Before this squabble could get serious, Val returned with a newspaper. It was wrinkled and splotched with some sort of liquid that caused some of the ink to run.
This was not a normal newspaper, either. Well, not one that you might be accustomed to. This was a newspaper published by and for monsters and other supernatural entities. As you might have guessed, it had quite a small readership, considering most of the monsters out there didn’t read. A subscription list for the paper, called The Daily Bite, I figured, would consist mostly of vampires, BEAST employees, and witches and warlocks. We hadn’t subscribed. I forgot about it. I don’t know why. We should’ve. I think it was my subconscious preventing me from spending any more money.
This issue Val held in her hand was from last summer. The headline: MONSTER GAMES ARE BACK! The picture below this was of Vladimir Spires holding up the troll’s head, the same one I’d seen in my father’s book.
Val flipped the paper over and there was another picture. It was in full color. It was some sort of bracelet of gleaming gold with a symbol etched between three holes. The symbol was one I’d seen many times before. It was known as “The Teeth,” and was a circle of jagged monster teeth that represented the International Alliance of Monsters. The IAM was an organization that promoted the goodness of monsters and harmony among them and humans. They were mostly good, levelheaded beasts—still, I wouldn’t have wanted to be alone in an elevator with them without a proper weapon.
“The Champions’ bracelet,” the caption beneath said in small type.
The bracelet was thick and big enough to probably be worn on my head as a crown.
Val pointed to it. “They upgraded since the days of Vladimir Spires, that’s for sure.”
We never told her of the gaslings’ proposition and our subsequent acceptance. Val continued talking about the Monster Games while Maddie asked question after question. My head was spinning the entire time, so I didn’t really focus in on what they were talking about.
But one thing did catch my ear.
“They have nixed the Battle Royale, much too many of the spectators’ displeasure,” Val said. “Instead, the final task will encompass only those who have secured the correct items from the Hunt.”
“That’s good,” Maddie said.
“Good?” Val asked. “Not good at all. I would shun them altogether if the committee hadn’t promised us a more action-packed and bloody three tasks than was common two-hundred years ago.”
“How bloody are we talking here?” Zack asked.
“It’s monsters, dear,” Val answered. “As bloody as it gets.”
She was practically licking her chops, thinking about all the violence. Violence sold, that was for sure.
“What about Saber? Aren’t they bad?” I asked.
“Sure, sure, but so are the majority of the monsters,” Val answered. “BEAST can’t take them down because they can’t pin anything on them. Officially.”
“Damn,” I said.
Maddie and Val went on discussing the Games. I was pretty worried so I zoned in and out for the rest of the conversation, catching snippets and snatches of their words. Words like: decapitation, explosion, gore, to name a few.
Later, Maddie briefed us on the rules. She had read the article in The Daily Bite at Superwoman-like speed.
The Hunt was the basis of a point system. The contestants—or Champions as they were called—each set out for an item important to that task. The first to the item received the most points. These items could be literally anything. Maddie’s example for a fire-based task was a match, which would have to be used to move on to the next task, and so on. The item would unlock an elemental crystal, which would be placed into the Champions’ bracelet. Only Champions with the holes filled would be permitted to the last task, which offered the winner a hundred point bonus for winning. This was meant to give each contestant a fighting chance had they performed poorly in the previous rounds.
“That seems easy enough,” Zack said. “You know…without all the monsters and stuff.”
“Well, those are the only rules,” Maddie said. She was not smiling. Her face was very pale.
Val had left to go let Spike outside. He needed to use the bathroom. She had said, “Werewolves were not that different from you and I.” Except, when she came out with the werewolf and took him to the alley for his business, he was wearing a thick metal muzzle clamped over his snout and a spiked-collar connected to thick chained leash. Not many people I knew required that, not unless they were into some pretty weird stuff.
“That means you can kill,” Maddie said omin
ously. “No points are rewarded for it nor taken away, but the crowd loves it.”
“I bet,” I said.
“Less contestants, the better the chances of winning are,” Zack said. “Makes sense.”
I tried to remain positive.
Zack continued, “Plus, you know, we’re monster hunters. And together we’re stronger than any beast. We’re the Fright Squad!”
“True,” Maddie said. She was up from the couch now, fiddling with a snow globe that had a graveyard scene inside of its dome. Red snowflakes floated around the water instead of white. She tried a smile. It didn’t look right on her blanched features. Zack got up and put and arm around her. Some color came back to her cheeks.
“We can still back out,” he said.
Maddie shook her head.
“No,” I echoed. “We’ll be fine. I feel better knowing what the rules are.”
“You do?” Zack asked. “I don’t.”
To be honest, I really didn’t, but I was trying not to think about how bad our chances were when Val came back in, the cold night air and the smell of dog drifting in with her.
She put the hood of her cloak down. “Good boy,” she said to Spike.
He didn’t wag his tail.
Then she scratched him behind one ear and looked at us. Spike growled low in his throat. He didn’t like this much, either, I assumed.
“You all are more than welcome to come watch the Games with me,” she said.
“On TV?” Zack asked, breathless.
“Yes. They’ll be broadcast all over the world. For a fee, of course. But if you order pizza I’ll pay the fee.”
Zack’s eyes had stars in them. “Holy shit,” he said. “I’ve always wanted to be on TV.”
Maddie elbowed him.
“I mean…I’ve always wanted to watch TV,” he corrected.
Val looked at him funny—and that was saying something considering who Val was. Suffice to say, it wasn’t a very good cover-up.
“We better get going,” I said, holding the newspaper. “Do you mind if I keep this?”
“No, go right ahead,” Val said. “It has served its purpose. Besides, that is old news. Do you not subscribe to The Daily Bite?”
The Monster Games Page 8