by Jason Parent
“Hi, Victoria.”
“Hello.”
“Do you remember me? We met once at the hospital.”
Victoria nodded. “Yes, Detective Reilly. I remember you. Did you and Uncle Clive ever go out on a date? I told him he should ask you out.”
“I guess you could say we did, yes.”
“Good. I liked Auntie Morgan and all, but you’re much prettier. And sometimes Auntie Morgan could be scary. Uncle Clive never seemed to notice, though.”
“Thank you for the compliment, Victoria. And believe me, I know all about Auntie Morgan’s scary side.”
Reilly looked around the room, expecting to see Victoria’s father standing somewhere nearby. The old couple waited impatiently behind her, forced to awkwardly console Clive’s mother longer than they likely had intended.
“Where’s your father?”
Victoria’s empty expression did not waver. “He’s at home in bed.”
“Well, you be strong, for you and for him.” Reilly smiled, disguising her empathy. “Take care.” She signaled for her attendant to roll her away.
She waited in the back for the procession to clear. Most of the counterfeit mourners cleared out shortly after making an appearance. Only the truly despondent remained—and Reilly. She stood to walk over to the casket.
“Detective?” her officer-nurse said.
“I’m fine. There’s nothing wrong with my legs.”
“But the doctor—”
“I’m fine.” Reilly spoke sternly, and the officer left her alone. Grimacing, she hobbled over to the coffin. For the first time, she noticed that it was open.
How? I heard he shoved scissors in there so deep that they nearly came out the other side. That’s got to be messy, especially when the scissors were pulled out.
As she slowly made her way to Clive’s body, Reilly remembered her reason for attending Clive’s wake and leaving the hospital against her doctors’ advice. The case was closed, even in her own mind. So why did she feel so unsatisfied? Why did it seem like a piece was still missing?
He didn’t have the ability, she kept telling herself. She reconstructed each explosion in her mind, trying to picture Clive carefully planning each blast, building and setting the bombs. Reilly knew Morgan hadn’t participated directly in the explosions, but she certainly had been aware of them and had known where Clive kept his bombs. She’d conveniently placed herself in the company of others when each explosion took place as though creating alibis for each occasion. Often, she was with Clive’s late best friend, Derek LeRoux.
But Morgan wasn’t without blame. Her role was more like that of a janitor. She helped clean up Clive’s messes. To her misfortune, she got caught up in a mess that was uncleanable.
Reilly didn’t believe Kevin was involved, either. A troubled loner, he was the patsy from the start. Although Kevin would never be vindicated, Clive was the real demon. But was Clive acting alone?
There’s only so much one can learn through the Internet. A few books, Wikipedia, and common household products don’t make an explosives expert. There had to be someone else.
Reilly shuddered. She had no other suspects. Those who weren’t dead were easily cleared of any suspicion. There was nothing to suggest Clive had been in contact with anyone capable of conveying to him the expansive knowledge in civil and electrical engineering, chemistry, and manufacturing that he seemed to have possessed. His devices had been crude but potent, and they had been placed with intent to cause maximum destruction.
All evidence Reilly had collected suggested Clive Menard had committed each explosion. It would be one hell of a frame-up if Clive hadn’t been involved. Not even the most masterful criminals were that smart or complete. As hard as it was for Reilly to accept, Clive must have been skilled beyond even his own comprehension.
Reilly assumed that long after her wounds healed and her mind became entrenched with new cases and new villains, she might come to tolerate the idea that Clive was some sort of idiot savant, a master of a deadly art. For the moment, however, Reilly couldn’t let go of her uncertainties. But as she peered down at the remains, handsomely done up by the mortician in Clive’s best digs, her mind turned to only one thought.
Nice suit.
CHAPTER 54
T he stench seeping out of her father’s room was more sickening than that from a cow field under a July sun. Because the heat had been set so low, it rarely activated, and the winter temperatures outside found their way in. The body was slow to decay. But after a week, it was well on its way toward decomposition. The air reeked of death.
Still, Victoria didn’t mind. Her biggest concern was her dwindling supply of Cocoa Puffs and milk. She wondered if she would have to find her way to the grocery store herself. She wondered how she’d pay for it. Her father had always kept his wallet on the bureau in his bedroom. Victoria had been punished once for stealing a dollar from it. Her father had been disappointed in her, and she knew she had hurt him and never did it again. Now, she wouldn’t go into his wallet for an entirely different reason—she didn’t want to disturb her father’s rest.
She sat on her couch, staring blankly at a turned-off television while she nibbled on a stale Pop Tart. She still wore her favorite pajama bottoms. She’d worn them every day, except for a short while when she’d dressed herself for her Uncle Clive’s funeral, waiting by the door for her grandmother to pick her up so that her father wouldn’t be disturbed.
She wrinkled her nose. It tickled as though a hair had worked its way up it. Victoria dismissed it and bit down on her nutrition-less snack. As she did, a small piece of what appeared to be frosting glided to the end of the Pop Tart, crossing the icing as though it were truly made of ice. As it hit the brown, toasted edge, Victoria could see that the bit of frosting wasn’t frosting at all, but a nearly pigment-less widow spider.
Even with her knowledge of spider venom, Victoria was unafraid. She watched, somewhat interested in the creature’s activities but sensing no threat. A web line protruded from its butt, across the Pop Tart and, she soon realized, into her nose. Its red-bolt markings glowed. Its dark eyes glowed too. They glared back at Victoria.
Still, Victoria wasn’t afraid. Even when it somehow spoke to her, she wasn’t alarmed. Apparently, neither was the spider.
Hello, Victoria.
Victoria didn’t respond. The talking spider failed to impress her, as though talking spiders were an everyday occurrence. She just didn’t care about anything anymore. The two stared at each other in silence, like an old couple eating dinner who had nothing left to say to each other after all their years together.
Out of boredom, Victoria spoke. “Who are you?”
I’m a good friend of your uncle’s. He sent me here to take care of you.
“Uncle Clive’s imaginary friend? So, he wasn’t talking to himself, then?”
That’s right. I was his best friend in the whole wide world. And I’m very, very real. He told me that, should anything ever happen to him, I was to look after you like I looked after him. I’m your best friend now, Victoria.
Victoria shrugged. She took another bite of her Pop Tart. Still, the spider’s pledge was a little comforting.
“Will you always be my friend?”
Yes, Victoria. Forever.
“You won’t leave me?”
Never.
Victoria believed the spider’s words because she wanted to believe them. She had little reason not to believe them. If Uncle Clive had been friends with her, she must be okay. Besides, Victoria was lonely and in need of a friend, one who would never leave her like everyone else had.
“Mr. Wigglesworth? Isn’t that what Uncle Clive called you?”
Not usually. And as you know, I’m not a “Mister.”
“Well, then, what should I call you?”
Your Uncle Clive used to call me Chester. But that’s not my name either. In truth, I don’t have a name. I am very old, descended from divinity. My kind was cast aside by a hateful ruler,
before our fathers could name us and before our mothers could nurture us. Even so, we were giants amongst men, beings worthy of great reverence. But our creator had no use for us, and we were exiled, wrongly punished for our parents’ sins. He chose not to destroy us, instead transforming us into these insignificant specks, forgotten by humanity and the omnipotent themselves.
But Victoria, we have so much to offer your world. Over the millennia, those of us who survived are slowly regaining our power. Every day that we survive, we grow stronger. But we are still few and far apart, separated by great distances.
So you see, Victoria, I’m like you, an orphan and alone. My strength served your uncle well. It’ll serve you well too. Now that we have each other, I have a feeling things will only get better for the both of us.
“But how am I supposed to talk to you if I don’t know what to call you? People will think I’m crazy if they think I’m talking to myself.”
I’m your little secret now, Victoria. Others should not know of me. Most people are afraid of my kind. They would try to hurt me, kill me even. They wouldn’t understand like you do. We have to keep each other safe.
“In private, then.”
I see you share the same persistence your uncle had. Okay. How well do you know Greek mythology?
“Greek what? Is that like gyros? I like those, but I haven’t eaten Greek food too much.”
Never mind. How about you call me Arachne?
“Ah… rack… knee? I like Chester better.”
The spider sighed. I suppose I am getting used to it.
The corner of Victoria’s mouth twitched, which was the first sign of any authentic emotion she’d shown for many weeks. She realized the direness of her present living conditions. She was thankful to finally have some support again. She was thankful for her new friend.
She frowned. “We’re out of Cocoa Puffs.”
We’ll get you some more. I promise. It’s time to leave now, Victoria. Don’t be scared. I’m here now, here to look after you. You’re not alone anymore. You’ll never be alone again.
“What about Daddy?”
Daddy needs his sleep. We need to go so that he can get some more sleep.
“Where will we go?”
Leave all of that to me. I have plans for you, Victoria. Great plans, you’ll see! If you listen to me, do as I say, there’s nothing we won’t be able to see and do. We are going to be so happy together.
The twitch became a genuine smile, Victoria’s first since her mother’s death. She felt comfort, security, knowing someone was once again watching over her. She rose to her feet, content and complacent. Without a sound, a belonging, or a care in the world, she walked out the door.
ALSO FROM
BLOODSHOT BOOKS
The Specimen (The Riders Saga #1)
From a crater lake on an island off the coast of Bronze Age Estonia...
To a crippled Viking warrior's conquest of England ...
To the bloody temple of an Aztec god of death and resurrection...
Their presence has shaped our world. They are the Riders.
One month ago, an urban explorer was drawn to an abandoned asylum in the mountains of northern Massachusetts. There he discovered a large specimen jar, containing something organic, unnatural and possibly alive.
Now, he and a group of unsuspecting individuals have discovered one of history's most horrific secrets. Whether they want to or not, they are caught in the middle of a millennia-old war and the latest battle is about to begin.
Available in paperback or Kindle on Amazon.com
ISBN-13: 978-1495230004
WELCOME TO THE BLACK
MOUNTAIN CAMP FOR BOYS!
Summer,1989. It is a time for splashing in the lake and exploring the wilderness, for nine teenagers to bond together and create friendships that could last the rest of their lives.
But among this group there is a young man with a secret-a secret that, in this time and place, is unthinkable to his peers.
When the others discover the truth, it will change each of them forever. They will all have blood on their hands.
ODD MAN OUT is a heart-wrenching tale of bullies and bigotry, a story that explores what happens when good people don't stand up for what's right. It is a tale of how far we have come . . . and how far we still have left to go.
Available in paperback or Kindle on Amazon.com
ISBN-13: 978-0998067919
I KNOW WHAT YOU HAVE HEARD ABOUT ME
You say that I am a madman. You say that I am dangerous. You say that I am the one who has been abducting women, slaughtering them, and burying their corpses all around this city for years. You are wrong, because only part of that statement is true…
I AM NOT A KILLER
I know that you probably won’t believe me. Not now. Not after all that has happened, but I need to tell my side of the story. You need to know how this all began. You need to hear about the birds, but most of all, you need to understand…
I AM NOT THE BOULEVARD MONSTER
Available in paperback or Kindle on Amazon.com
ISBN-13: 978-0998067957
A TERRIFYING HAUNTING
This is the place where the harrowed ghosts of a dozen generations whisper in the shadows of their ancestral home, where one family’s dreams of a new beginning turned into a nightmare that ended in tragedy.
A CURSED BLOODLINE
This is the place where a line of witches bound themselves—in blood—to a primeval entity. Here, nightmare and reality meet beneath frozen skies, and even time and space fall under the power of the demonic being that rules this remote northern wood.
A CHANCE ENCOUNTER
This is the place where the path of a tormented survivor meets that of an unknowing innocent. Past and present collide, and secrets long buried crawl back into the pallid light of day as the shadow of the Beast falls over them both. But even the bloodiest dreams of that demonic being may pale in comparison to what lies buried within the human heart.
This is the place where evil dwells …
ABODE
Available in paperback or Kindle on Amazon.com
ISBN-13: 978-0998067988
They knew it was wrong to purchase a kidney off the Chinese black market. But what the Taylor brothers didn’t realize was that its unwilling donor was an executed prisoner—and an immortal being from Chinese mythology. Pursuing them to Washington, DC, this ancient king will stop at nothing to recover what was once his.
This special 15th anniversary edition of Matthew Warner's acclaimed first horror novel includes nearly 7,000 words of new material, including the author's riveting account of his true-life encounter with China's illegal organ trade.
“A classic of modern horror literature.”
— E.C. “Feo Amante” McMullen, Jr.
THE ORGAN DONOR
Available in paperback or Kindle on Amazon.com
ISBN-13: 978-1-947522-03-9
Psychiatrist Dr. Desmond Carter had always believed that his former patient, author Simon Ryan, was dead.
But, when a bloodstained manuscript penned by Ryan arrives at his office, Desmond begins to doubt everything he thought he had known—not just about the troubled author's past, but his own sanity. Desmond seeks the truth. Instead, he discovers the wellspring of madness.
In Pandemonium, the sequel to his acclaimed 2011 novella The Noctuary, Greg Chapman drags you deeper into the nightmarish reality of the Dark Muses—creatures forged from the very darkness in our own souls.
The words contained within will drive you mad… and damn you to Hell.
THE NOCTUARY: PANDEMONIUM
Available in paperback or Kindle on Amazon.com
ISBN-13: 978-1-947522-04-6
ON THE HORIZON FROM
BLOODSHOT BOOKS
2017
What Hides Within – Jason Parent
It Sustains – Mark Morris
2018*
Red Diamond – Michales Joy
White Death
– Christine Morgan
Victoria (What Hides Within #2) – Jason Parent
Happy Cage – Gene Lazuta
The Winter Tree – Mark Morris
Blood Mother: A Novel of Terror – Pete Kahle
Practitioners – Matt Heyward & Patrick Lacey
Bleed Away the Sky – Brian Fatah Steele
The October Boys – Adam Millard
Not Your Average Monster, Volume 3
2019-20*
The Abomination (The Riders Saga #2) – Pete Kahle
The Horsemen (The Riders Saga #3) – Pete Kahle
Not Your Average Monster, Volume 4
* other titles to be added when confirmed
READ UNTIL YOU BLEED