Monster M.D.: A Monster Girl Harem Mystery Thriller (Monster M.D. )

by Leighton Lawless

  “Well call me ‘nobody’ then, because if I don’t,” Jer said and waved his hands frantically, “You can kiss all of this goodbye.”

  Dismay flashed across Ambrose’s face as he considered his next move. He looked like he wanted to say something but hesitated. Reluctance spread across his face.

  “Just say it,” Jer said. “I’m not one to judge.”

  Ambrose guffawed.

  “You wouldn’t understand,” he scoffed.

  “You’d be surprised,” Jer replied. “Try me.”

  “It’s hard, you know. A lot of monsters depend on me, but this mess your friend Jasper has created is making things hard,” Ambrose said.

  “I think you like that others depend on you,” Jer said. “The more they do the more you feel needed.”

  Ambrose chuckled, a deep guttural growl emitting from his throat.

  “Good observation, doc. I do,” he admitted. “That’s the truth. Listen…tell anyone about what I say in here, and I’ll rip you apart myself.”

  “You have my word,” Jer offered. “Patient-doctor confidentiality.”

  Ambrose’s eyes darted around the cramped office space. “But they don’t even truly see me as one of them,” he said.

  “Right,” Jer said. “Half-human, half-monster. Even before the false rumors that Transhumana Monstrare is viral, mixed birth was rare. Neither see you as one of them, leaving you with few options in life. Now, you have your own horde of thugs to enforce your will and run your enterprise. But that’s not really why you need them, is it?”

  Ambrose shook his head. “Clever one, you are,” he said. “Guess all that fancy education of yours is useful for something.”

  “They serve as protection for you, don’t they?” Jer asked. “Because the truth is that the monsters out there despise you almost as much as they despise humans.”

  “I’ll never be accepted as either.”

  “Sounds like you have some inner turmoil over your dual identity,” Jer said.

  “You think,” Ambrose scoffed.

  Jer smiled with compassion in his eyes. “I’m not going to feed you some BS chicken-soup-for-the-soul words of encouragement,” he said. “You’re both a human and a monster, and you’re neither.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Ambrose asked.

  “That chasing acceptance and an identity in either will always fail,” Jer said. “You’re the best of both worlds, if you ask me. Your real identity is your own. Your personal life, the choices you make, and the person you decide to be. That’s who you are.”

  Ambrose met Jer’s eyes. “That is some grade-A bullshit,” Ambrose said and created an awkward pause with a few seconds of silence…, “but I love it!”

  The two of them burst out laughing.

  “I got it from a psychiatry article about dual identity,” Jer confessed. “Thought it was worth a shot.”

  “You’re all right in my book, doc,” Ambrose said. “Thanks for trying.”

  Jer shrugged with a grin. “Best I can do for now,” he said.

  They shared warm smiles with each other, and Ambrose gestured for Jer to take a seat.

  Back inside the decrepit bar, Damiana, Max, and Dakota glanced around at the monster-guards who surrounded them.

  “Buy you a drink, young lady?” Max asked.

  “Don’t drink,” Dakota replied.

  Max smirked.

  “You don’t drink on account of who’s buyin’ the drink or on account of it bein’ a drink?” Max asked.

  “Both,” she answered.

  “But if I were to sprout horns and a tail, you’d be up on the table shakin’ your ass, huh?” Max said in a cold voice.

  “Think you know me?” Dakota asked.

  Max nodded and motioned to the monster-bartender, who responded by pouring him a shot. Max threw it back.

  “Know your kind. Water-walker who thinks they’re gonna change the world. Person who ain’t never lived with monsters yet thinks they know all about ‘em,” Max said, full of himself and overconfident.

  Damiana looked over at the two of them, but she held her tongue.

  “I’ve studied them extensively,” Dakota said.

  “You ever lived in an all-monster neighborhood?” Max asked. “You ever had ‘em beat the shit outta your family because they weren’t monsters?”

  “No. I haven’t, Mr. Ray,” Dakota answered. “And I’m sorry if that happened to you, but not all monsters are the same.”

  Max slugged another shot. “Try losin’ your brother to one of ‘em things and see what you think then,” he said.

  Dakota and Max shared a tense look.

  “I don’t agree with you, but I am sorry for your loss,” she says.

  “‘Preciate your canned sympathies,” Max said. “Oh, well. Shit happens. But what I don’t understand is why a man like Jer, who lost his parents, would wanna help ‘em.”

  “Maybe he’s trying to understand how and why it happened,” Dakota said, “and help to make the world safer.”

  Max lowered his drink and pointed to the back of the bar, which was lined with graffiti that read, ‘Matthias Lives.’

  “There,” he said. “That’s how it happened.”

  “Matthias?” Dakota asked.

  “That’s who killed Jer’s folks,” Max explained.

  Dakota turned to the wall to look, but bullets grazed her head. Lead sprayed across the space, cutting down monster patrons. Glass shattered all around.

  Dakota, Damiana, and Max dove to the ground and took cover behind turned-over tables as Damiana tried to sneak a look at who was attacking them.

  14

  Infiltration

  Pike and her kill-squad barreled through the front door like the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse, guns and eyes ablaze.

  The monster-bartender lurched from behind the bar, tricked out shotgun in hand as he pump-fired and blew a pumpkin-sized hole through one of Pike’s monsters.

  Pike sidestepped the melee, dropped to one knee and unleashed a wave of bullets on the monster-bartender whose body jerked backward as blood sprayed out of his chest.

  At the edge of the bar, Damiana and the others skittered to a stop, barely out of sight of Pike and her monsters. Damiana took a deep breath, composed herself, and looked to Max and Dakota. “The staircase,” she ordered.

  “You’re crazy!” Max shouted.

  “IT’S THE ONLY WAY!” Damiana shouted back.

  After another round of bullets strafed the cavern walls, the group rose and dashed across the bar.

  Pike and her thugs wheeled around and trained their guns on them. They opened fire. Bullets blasted more monster patrons. The victims crumpled to the ground in droves.

  Damiana continued leading the others as they dashed up the stairs. The door flared open, and they dove through and bullets shredded the wall behind them.

  Jer and Ambrose pulled Damiana, Dakota, and Max inside as they turned tail and raced down the corridor. They rushed into Ambrose’s personal office, and Jer slammed the door once they were all inside.

  “—way out…is there a way out?” Jer asked.

  Ambrose fixed his glasses, his breathing ragged, as he pointed to a window that led to a tunnel.

  A second later, one of the door hinges splintered as a high-explosive round burst through and created a hole in the opposite wall, followed by a spray of bullets that ripped into the door, ripping the office to shreds.

  Pike and her monster kill-squad then kicked the other hinge off and rushed into an empty office, spotting the window, which was shattered. She looked deep inside and saw Jer and his ragtag group hauling ass across a mud hut rooftop. With a flick of her wrist, her monsters unleashed bullets, chewing up everything in sight.

  Ambrose lurched for a ladder that led down. The others followed with bullets grazing just over the top of their heads.

  Pike and her monster kill-squad ceased fire momentarily as they watched Jer and the others disappear down the ladder. Pike smile
d, cued a shoulder mic, and said, “Everything is going according to plan, sir.”

  At the GenAdvance building in the command center, Jakoff continued to watch his intel footage as he barked into his headset.

  “How long?” Jakoff asked.

  “I’d assume they’ll make contact within the hour, sir,” Pike answered.

  “Excellent,” Jakoff said. “Stay close to them in case you have to end it the old-fashioned way. Oh, and Pike…make certain they go directly to the primary target. Don’t let them get any funky ideas along the way. Keep them on track.”

  Pike killed the shoulder mic as she and her monster kill-squad turned around and retreated out the door and down the hallway, back out into Sheol.

  Jakoff pulled off his headset and motioned to his aide. “Let the real games begin now,” Jakoff said with enthusiasm.

  The aide nodded but hesitated. He stared at Jakoff for a second before saying anything. “May I speak freely, sir?” he asked.

  “Don’t we still enjoy freedom of speech?” Jakoff asked.

  “Actually, GenAdvance repealed the Bill of Rights,” the aide said. “Free speech is only permitted as long as it doesn’t affect the stock price.”

  “Oh. That’s right,” Jakoff said.

  An awkward moment passed between the two of them.

  “Isn’t this a dangerous game you’re playing, sir?” the aide asked. “Your…secret ploy could backfire.”

  Jakoff considered this, then sighed. “I was wrong,” he said.

  “So, you’ll reconsider?” the aide asked. “Take the safer action and finish it now?”

  “No. I was wrong about letting you speak,” Jakoff said. “Now go initiate stage two and get me a bottle of monster-moonshine while you’re out there from one of the Pharma guards who traffick in contraband for when I celebrate my victory later with those who didn’t doubt me.”

  The aide flinched, then skittered off as Jakoff turned back to the footage of Pike’s kill-squad reloading their weapons and heading out of Sheol the way they’d come and in the direction of Purgatory Bridge to prepare for the next stage of the plan.

  On the bridge, a Pharma soldier hefted a palm-pilot-type device, read a text command from Jakoff’s aide that blinked, and scrolled as he pumped his fist and turned to his men.

  “Sling arms,” he ordered. “Martial law is in full effect.”

  The Pharma troops slammed magazines into their weapons as they began marching across the bridge that led to North Brother Island. With Sheol in chaos, it was time to ensure the above-ground situation was under complete control.

  In front of the Pharma soldiers, an array of Synths led the way. Their eyes were without fear, not even fully understanding what the emotion was.

  On the opposite side of the bridge, monster-rebels readied weapons and took up positions behind their crude breastworks. Outnumbered and outgunned, they watched the approaching Pharma soldiers and took aim.

  The Synths fanned out across the bridge, surveying the road ahead. A tall Synth jumped up on a railing to get a better view. From his infrared perspective, he saw all manner of heat sources on the other side of the bridge. The monsters had no intention of backing down.

  The tall Synth continued to gaze over the battlefield when little flashes speckled his vision. Gunfire in the distance flashed. A bullet then hit him square between the eyes. He fell back onto the bridge, twitching as white liquid sprayed from the wound.

  The Pharma soldiers charged en masse. and down toward the awaiting monsters. All hell broke loose.

  Underground, in Sheol, monsters looked up and stared at footage of the attacks and chaos on the streets above. The plasma monitors showed scenes of horrific carnage as explosions reverberated. Tactical planes and helicopters dropped air support soldiers into the middle of the fray on the monster side of the water.

  Onscreen, the GenAdvance soldiers clashed with monsters as explosions went off all around. The battle shook the ground, and dust dropped from Sheol’s cavern ceiling, filtering down like rain, blocking the view of the monitors momentarily.

  Jer, Dakota, Damiana, Ambrose, and Max made their way back out onto the streets, sliding to a stop when they saw the footage.

  “C’MON!” Ambrose shouted.

  The others turned to Ambrose who motioned toward an alley.

  An explosion rang out from high above. The trembling shook the earthen ceiling and caused pieces of the ceiling to fall loose. Entire chunks of metal and dirt rained down, battering the ground like an artillery barrage and crushing monsters.

  Damiana’s eyes darted back and forth.

  “Watch out!” she shouted.

  Damiana exploded, knocking Max to the ground as a hunk of steel barely missed obliterating them.

  “Sky’s falling, alderman,” Damiana said. “Best you keep your eyes peeled.”

  Max rolled over, filthy but alive. He stared at Damiana and opens his mouth to say thanks when the lights went out.

  Total darkness filled the Sheol underground. Screams and shouts rose to a fever-pitch. Then, after several seconds of dread, machine generators hummed to life, and the lights flickered back on.

  Damiana extended a hand and helped Max up. The two of them turned and stared in wide wonder. From within Ambrose’s den, they spotted the worst thing imaginable heading straight for them.

  15

  Shootout in Sheol

  Pike and her kill-squad charged forward through the mass of monsters as they chased after Jer and his friends. The monster kill-squad plowed through Ambrose’s monster-guards and rushed out into the heart of the underground city in all its horrific glory.

  Pike stared out into the extraordinary jumble of trash, debris, and makeshift structures formed from scrap wood and lengths of corrugated metal tagged with anti-human graffiti. The only concession to aesthetics within sight was the rugged metal sculpture of a monstrous, and misshapen mother holding a baby with matching horns and fangs. The statue rose twenty feet into the air.

  “Look at this fucking place,” Pike hissed at the three harpies under her power, with the dragon-monster taking up the rear. “You’re lucky to be under my control. Otherwise, you’d be living in squalor with these wretched beasts.”

  The harpies with collars around their necks fought the urge to react at Pike’s words. Instead, they lowered their eyes and suppressed growls.

  Pike pressed her embedded earpiece, and the metal leash fixed around the dragon-monster’s neck lit up.

  The dragon roared, clawing at its collar, but getting a shock down his spine. The thick scales on its hide made a sound that was an awful lot like windchimes. The beast snorted and vomited up small balls of molten metal, lava-like chunks that it unleashed on the unsuspecting when it was time to do battle.

  The harpies saw this and clucked their sharp teeth, eager to spill blood, even if the blood they truly wanted to spill was their master’s. Blood was blood as long as they were under complete control, however, and their furious eyes conveyed that they were more than willing to act out their rage and anger on anyone who crossed their paths.

  Pike smirked at the harpies as they howled at the sight of their much larger relative snarling and roaring, sending fear into the collective crowd of monsters scrambling to escape as the dragon-monster made its full appearance.

  It wasn’t quite time yet to deliver a final blow. There was a plan at play after all, and Pike needed to make certain events fell into place as Jakoff had orchestrated. The purpose of this little foray of fright was to make certain their prey continued on their misbegotten path.

  Pike scanned the shantytown which was a sweaty, boiling den of cloudy-eyed beasts who stared at her and the kill-squad. They had yet to sound the alarm for the strongest among them to fight back, but Pike knew from experience it would only be a matter of seconds. She needed to finish this part of the plan with her kill-squad by taking down the monsters who stood in her way, regardless of who they were.

  “Where might Jer and the others be?�
�� one of Pike’s harpies asked.

  “Nowhere and everywhere,” Pike said.

  “Which means what, miss?” the harpy asked.

  Pike’s gaze narrowed. “Commander,” she corrects. “You’ll address me as commander, or I’ll activate the failsafe around your neck and you’ll be headless.”

  The eager harpy backed up and lowered its bird-like head.

  “Apologies, commander,” the harpy said. “What are your orders?”

  “We’ll have to smoke them out. Literally,” Pike answered. “They’re hiding in the masses.”

  Pike snatched an incendiary device from her tactical belt as a tall and powerful figure came into view. It was Damiana, garbed in a sinuous waxed cloak that tickled her knees. She stood twenty feet away, directly between Pike and the rest of the Sheol residents.

  Damiana toed at the ground like a bull and stabbed a finger in Pike’s direction. “Go back to where you came from, wench!” she shouted. “You’ve entered the wrong domain.”

  Pike grinned. “Bold words,” she spat, “but it’s a little late in the day to be bargaining.”

  “Who’s bargaining? That was a straight-up threat,” Damiana warned.

  Pike smiled and whistled, causing her dragon-monster to stomp forward and roar with an ear-piercing shriek that rattled the underground cavernous walls. A moment of silence filled the open space, as other monsters turned to watch in awe and terror.

  A few heartbeats passed when anything seemed possible, and then two things happened at once: the dragon-monster unleashed an ear-shattering roar, and Damiana threw open her cloak to reveal that it was lined with all manner of weapons and cutting devices.

  Before Pike could react, Damiana whipped out a small Gatling-gun-like weapon that latched around her right wrist and went on the attack, running laterally. She squeezed a burst of fire from her weapon as Pike ducked back and tossed her incendiary device.

  The tiny explosive air-burst over the shantytown, showering the huts and lean-tos with white phosphorous. Monsters all around were caught in the crossfire. The structures lit up in flames, with several monsters running around on fire like ambulatory torches.