My Boyfriend is a Monster

by Coates, J. H.

  The Crow smiled and looked up from her mail. “A pocket watch I believe.”

  The Raven snapped his fingers. “A pocket watch, then drank until police picked him up,” he said as if recalling scenes from a movie. Finally remembering what he was doing back in the kitchen he turned around and opened the fridge door. “Ketchup my love?” he asked already knowing the answer.

  “Yes please.”

  The Raven placed the knife and ketchup on the table and returned to the kitchen. “I don’t know how you can eat that vile slop with your flesh.”

  “You put mustard on your burger.”

  Peeking from behind a cupboard door he took a deep breath. “Barbequed cow needs flavoring my dear, it’s so blah. Now raw human flesh is alive, excuse the pun. It has copious amount of flavors that should not be sullied by cheap condiments.”

  “You’re not eating it.”

  Retreating to the cupboard he began murmuring to himself. “The faux pas equivalent of having sour cream with caviar.” Returning to the table with two plates in his hand he suddenly grew a smile. On the table was the carving knife in the clutches of a lifeless Jenny who seemed to have sunk it into the chest of a headless Jonathan. He turned to the Crow waiting for a confession.

  She did not look up from the tablet. “Do you think the authorities will buy it?” she asked starting to gleam.

  Shaking his head he took the knife out of the chest then out of Jenny’s hand. “You shouldn’t play with your food my love.”

  “Just having a little fun lover,” she said.

  “So it seems” he replied with a devilish agreement then tore into the flesh of Mr. Gable with frightening speed. Meat and muscle split and severed before her and in only seconds a pile of human beef sat in the middle of the table marinating in its own pool. Sticking his hand down the neck he grabbed onto the collar bone and tossed the corpse to the floor. Then with the same speed and precision he cut away at Jenny, which made a much smaller pile.

  “I always said you should have been a doctor,” the Crow said approaching the table. Taking the dead girl by the ankles she reefed her off of the table with a loud discarded thud.

  “Never interested me,” he said handing her a plate. Filling it with flesh he noticed how quickly she went for the ketchup. Watching her tap the bottom of the bottle only caused him to roll his eyes.

  Grabbing a limp piece and dunking it into the bright red sauce she tried curling the meat so it would go stiff and be easier to inject. But the weight of the flesh made it off balance and she had to go under and up to get a good mouth full. Sinking her front teeth into the human beef she easily tore it from itself. Her back teeth happily punctured the raw popping meat. Exploding in her cheeks with each bite she could taste the vinegary sweetness swirling around the raw flesh that was once Jonathan’s thigh.

  Repulsed he turned away. “Disgusting.” Ignoring the flesh on her plate being ruined by ketchup he ripped into his own. Fighting the urge to stuff the whole piece in his mouth he tore it apart making a wet suction sound.

  She swallowed. “I’m disgusting,” she laughed waiting for him to agree. Her phone went off and she put down the newly soaked piece. Looking at the message she began to smile. “We have a new job my love,” she said reading on.

  But the Raven was not paying attention. He was still reminiscing about the massacre in Philadelphia. “Sure he was suspect number one. But it was all circumstantial. It took twenty minutes I remember reading, twenty minutes for twelve of his peers to find dear Mr. Probst guilty.”

  “Looks like were heading to Chicago,” she said. Finishing the message she returned the phone and bit into her beef. Realizing he was not paying attention she decided she would repeat the declaration with more enthusiasm. Quickly debating if she should wait until she swallows since her mouth was full of Jonathan she decided and said, “I love Chicago.”

  A little piece of flesh covered in ketchup landed on the table. “Lover,” he said not being able to take his eyes off of it.

  Picking it up and tossing it back into her mouth she covered this time. “Sorry.”

  “Do you know he is still in Philadelphia?”

  “I know my love,” she sighed knowing the story intimately. “I was there when you signed the papers to have his skeleton donated to the college museum. Remember?”

  Waiting until his mouth was empty too answer he chewed and chewed. Finally she thought he was messing with her. Her eyes grew as he finally swallowed. “Chicago you say?”

  She became excited again, as if hearing it for the first time. “I love Chicago.”

  “I know you do my love. And Chicago loves you.”

  “So…” she said holding a new piece of ketchup slathered flesh awaiting his reply.

  “The Windy City might be nice,” he said and laughed. “Make some new memories.”

  Already stuffing the entire piece into her mouth she squealed making a bubbly splatter of ketchup and meat vibrate. Pulling out her phone again she began responding.

  “And the job?” he asked. Finding the young lady extremely tough he resorted to using his personal blade to cut smaller hunks.

  Raising her finger to pause the conversation she proceeded to finish her text. With a couple of clicks and a few drags she began to read the screen. “The House of Crassus,” she said with respect.

  “Ah, a high paying assignment,” the Raven interrupted. “An open assignment?” he asked casually.

  She shook her head still reading. Finally with a sly smirk she looked up. “To us directly my Love,” she said surprised.

  Growing a smug smile he took another bite then walked to the bar. Pouring two drinks he returned and set a glass in front of her. Looking out the large window into the city night he declared. “Were moving up in the world.” Turning to her he raises his glass. “To us. If the great Marcus Licinius Crassus has asked for our expertise specifically, I believe we have been taken a new level.”

  “I can already feel our stock elevating,” she matched then raised hers. Never taking their eyes off each other they drink. Lifting her phone up she reads the message once again to make sure she was getting it right. “We are to find and locate target. Believed to be in Chicago,” she said. Closing her mouth a high screech could still be heard.

  “Please Lover, contain yourself,” he said cringing.

  “I can’t help it,” she pouts. “There are few proper night spots left in this country. And Chicago, well it’s the Bees Knees.”

  Pausing before sinking his teeth into another bite he slowly looks towards her. “Lover,” he said not sure if he heard her correctly.

  She embarrassingly ignores him.

  Giving her the benefit of the doubt he decides to ask. “Did you just say, the Bees Knees?”

  Looking around the room she waits in hopes that he will let it go and change the subject. He just stares at her. Finally she can’t take it anymore and stares back trying not to laugh at her own silliness. “Well Chicago is the Bees Knees,” she said sticking to her guns.

  “That’s what I thought you said,” he said finally taking a bite.

  “It’s the Cat’s Meow and the Cat’s Pajamas.”

  “Please I -”

  “Oh Applesauce and Horse feathers, it’s the Berries.”

  He cannot help but giggle and stands up. “I suppose we’ll get all dolled up and hit a juice joint. Have some giggle water, a few hair of the dogs. Then go somewhere swanky and cut a rug,” he animates then cuts another chunk while standing.

  Tossing her a piece of flesh she catches it dramatically. “Once the capers over and we collect our clams Daddy,” she said putting her phone away.

  “You’re just a regular Moll, aren’t - ya?” he asked standing over Jonathan Gable.

  “No, I’m a Bearcat baby,” she said slowly making her way towards him.

  Slamming his fist into the headless corpse he brings back the heart. Violently sinking his fangs into the organ he chews the piece of tough muscle. With a smile and b
lood around his mouth he holds it out to her.

  She shakes her head. “You know I detest it.”

  “Lover, if we’re going to Chicago for a job you will need your protein.”

  “No.”

  He suddenly embraces her with his free arm and gazes into her eyes. Gently he kisses her with an almost farewell passion. They part slowly as her now crimson stained lips smile. Taking the heart from him her fangs spike through her gums and sink into it. Chewing with a begrudging effort her smile all but disappears. The Raven’s eyes flutter feverishly under his lids and then suddenly stop. Slowly opening them they gleam a bright dark brown. “For the bells finally toll. And just ahead, forever silence lurks,” he begins and casts his gaze upon her. “For the night hides intentions. And shadows will betray. The sickles will fall . . . upon Death’s invitation.”

  Abruptly she stops chewing as a gel like juice runs off her lip and down her chin. Her eyes beam their dark emerald green. Hugging him tightly she raises her lips to his ear and whispers, “Quoth the Raven.”

  Lightly kissing her cheek he whispers back. “Nevermore.”

  CHAPTER 10

  ONE: The Quiet Grand Opening

  Nathan sat and listened to the radio.

  “Another grisly discovery this morning ladies and Gentlemen-”

  “That’s right Kevin, a third body has been found.”

  “Three?”

  “Yup, police aren’t saying a whole lot, but what we do know is the body is male. And sadly this one looks like it might be preteen.”

  “Not that anyone getting killed is less sad,”

  “No of course not, my apologies if that’s how I made it sound,”

  No – no, but when it is kids . . . it really strikes another chord.”

  “It sure does. And like the others, is missing a fair amount of flesh including-”

  “The heart,”

  “Including the heart, that’s right.”

  “Well for not saying a whole lot, that is a lot of info Jerry,”

  “Well it’s not like they gave out a name and address.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Well, by now maybe, it is the Chicago PD,”

  Nathan turned off the radio and decided to focus on opening his store. Looking around he sighed. Not because he didn’t think it looked good, because in fact it was quite lovely. The hardwood floors looked original even though he had them brought in and installed. The carpets were strategically placed where people would stand and look the most but as to not be noticed. The walls were two tones brown with the top being winter sky and the bottom desert camel. The posts throughout the store were the same two tones but the top and bottom reversed. The shelves were hand carved from Mahogany almost fifty years ago by his brother Bo, then put into storage nearby for this exact purpose.

  He had new books and old books. Some read and some never opened. He had first editions scattered throughout the store with some under glass and some framed. Even the frames were antiques from different centuries. Some from different parts of the world. He had no intention for beverage service but little tables beside big chairs that told people to bring your own and stay. He was actually quite pleased with the look of his new store.

  What he was actually disappointed with was the fact of how much it reminded him of his store on the Almafi Coast. As much as he loved Chicago and being close to his family, it could not compare to the ageless city in southern Italy. No matter how close he painted it or how close that shelf was positioned it was never going to be that one. He missed it and all the books that were in it.

  Walking over to the window he decided twelve minutes to nine was close enough. Switching on the open sign he let the familiar sound of electricity surge throughout the red neon sign, cheering him up a little. Unlocking the door he walked behind the counter and dropped to his elbows. He was already recovering, he loved being surrounded by books and kind of hoped (as he did most days) that no one would come in. Nathan did not need money. Like his books he had plenty of that. He needed a front, to appear normal. And if pretending to be normal meant spending day after day reading books, drinking tea and talking to people about books, he could not think of a better way. So he decided to let his little Italy store go and be satisfied with the quaint little store he built in big Chicago.

  It was a nice day and he would soon be opening the windows to let the breeze flow through. Then he would sit and read A Tale of Two Cities and pause to talk with customers, assuming there would be customers. Nathan never advertised or catered to spectacle such as grand openings. If customers passed and noticed the open sign and came in, that was good enough. He didn’t even care if they bought anything. He preferred talking about books rather than selling. Although selling a story to a customer was always fun too, if they bought it. Nathan enjoyed debating the meanings and stories behind books as well. They could agree or disagree with him. He enjoyed both. But he was always respectful of other people’s opinions and always kept an open mind. If nobody came in he was fine with that as well. It gave him the perfect opportunity to fully immerse himself into the story without interruption. Either way, he loved having a book store. The only thing that would make this day perfect would be a cup of tea from Sips.

  He was faster and stronger than any Chakan he has ever met. But even with all his powers he couldn’t muster the courage to go back to Sips. Even though Lily said yes to a date he was still embarrassed. Or maybe afraid she might change her mind if she saw him again. It sounded silly even thinking it, but he thought that it was better safe than sorry.

  Taking a sip of his own tea he scoffed inside his head. He had been drinking his own tea for almost a hundred years now, but since drinking Lily’s he had become a tea snob. It took him years to get over not having his Mother’s, and Lily’s was a hundred times better (taking a vow to never admit it aloud). Then a horrible thought went through his head, if the date did not go well, not only would he lose out on the women he had fallen for, but he would lose the tea as well. This started a heated debate in his mind that looked to get quite feverish when the little chime from his shopkeeper’s bell rang out.

  Smiling ear to ear Todd walked through the door humming a Disney tune and looking like an early 20th century golfer. And it totally suited him. He wore golf knickers complete with four inches of additional length and patterned long golf socks that met his two tone spectator shoes. A white shirt and plaid tie under a matching cardigan jacket. He even had the flat cap on and turned slightly to the left with a pair of John Lennon round sunglasses that seemed to work. “Oh My God,” Todd said coming to a stop and taking his glasses off. “This is, fabulous.”

  He walked deeper into the store taking it all in. Nathan could tell his eyes were grabbing titles off the shelves and registering them. Todd went a little deeper and noticed it right away. Under a glass box it sat confidently. A little pot light in front of it lit its magnificence. Somehow fascine to the glass near the bottom was a beautiful golden plaque that read:

  Treasure Island

  A Novel by: Robert Louis Stevenson

  1st Edition, May 23rd 1883

  Gazing at it in all its protected glory his first thought was to touch it, as if grasping it would teleport him back to his tenth year of life. His father might not have gotten him a 1st edition but the cover was very similar and the words were the same. The words that he had just began to understand completely on his own and propelled him to another world. A world full of adventure and excitement that made him a junkie ever since.

  “Go ahead,” Nathan said taking another sip of his disappointing tea.

  Todd looked at him like a kid on Christmas morning not sure if it was real. He looked back at the book and then back to Nathan who was smiling.

  Seeing it in his face Nathan assured him. “It’s ok, no alarms will go off.”

  “How?” he asked excited and scarred all at the same time.

  Nathan just lowered his hand then raised it telling Todd it was ok to just lift the b
ox.

  “Okay,” Todd said standing above the glass box housing the book of his childhood.

  Gently putting his hands on both sides of the box he applied pressure to grip it. He held his breath half expecting an alarm to go off, or at the very least a dart from some hidden hole in the wall. Imagining himself falling to the ground clutching his throat as the blood found a way past his hands he was already on his way to imagination land. Laughing in reality but bleeding out in his world of make believe, he became even more excited. Todd turned to Nathan smiling. “I feel like Indiana Jones.” Todd lifted unveiling the book. Joining him Nathan took the box from him and placed it on the counter. Todd leaned down to be face to face with the book. “A first edition,” Todd marveled. Admiring how well it had been preserved he continued his admiration. “To think someone all the way back in 1883 bought this book and took it home. Gave it to his son, or maybe bought it for themselves,” he said wondering, then turned to Nathan. “Maybe walked to a park and read it.”

  Nathan smiled but inside his mind he laughed since it was actually him who bought this exact book in 1883 London England. He actually bought the book from a shop on Frith Street. He remembered he was quite excited about reading about the adventures of Jim Hawkins and pirates. His excitement didn’t wane even when the shop keeper told him it was more of a book for children. In which Nathan replied. “A good book never has an age requirement. A good book is just a good book” That next day he returned to the shop keeper and proposed he seek out his inner child and read the book. Two weeks later walking down Frith Street the shop keeper yelled out, “Fifteen men on a dead man’s chest.” Then they both sang out, “Yo-Ho-ho and a bottle of rum.”