Bad Billy

by Jimmy M. F. Pudge

  “Run!” the carnie shouted. The creature on the ceiling suddenly disappeared as the light and the House of Horrors owner fled to the exit. Paul was frozen. He heard a shuffling and suddenly the carnie screamed and the light went out.

  “Oh man!” The carnie said. “I didn’t know you were the real deal! I just thought you were some nutcase in the sideshow. Please man, please! Get off me! Get the fuck off of me!”

  A high pitched scream—and then—

  There was nothing but silence. Paul could feel his heart beating. He heard something hit the floor and roll. He heard the carnie being ripped apart, bones cracking and sucking sounds. And then he heard something dragging across the floor.

  Paul began backing up and held his hands out in the dark. They touched something solid and firm. “Oh no.”

  There was a sudden hiss and Paul’s head hit the floor and rolled to a corner. The Vampire Man, as he was known at every county fair, ripped his kill’s arm off and sank his fangs into the warm, juicy flesh.

  He spit the meat out, not pleased with the way this one tasted (unlike the blond one he’d completely devoured). He had killed four in the past hour and only one had been absolutely delicious. The rest had tasted like the trash he’d been forced to eat in captivity.

  The Vampire Man walked to the exit, put his hand on the doorknob and walked out of the House of Horrors. He looked around at the people passing and saw the lights and heard the laughter. And then he disappeared into the crowd.

  #

  Willie parked the buggy at the sideshow tent and stepped inside.

  “Mitty, my man! I got a present for the Vampire Man. I found him at the river. Ugly motherfucker’s just about dead. He’s short as hell and fat too. Vampire Man gonna be eatin real good tonight. Help me out, man. He’s passed out in the buggy.”

  Mitty, the Vampire Man’s owner, shook his head. Willie noticed he was wearing a garlic bulb necklace.

  “What’s wrong?” Willie asked.

  “Vampire Man escaped his cage,” Mitty said.

  Willie whistled. “Fuck me! What are we going to do?”

  Mitty frowned. “We’re going to take my car out of town right now.”

  “What about everyone else?”

  “They’re going to die.”

  #

  Bad Billy’s eyes opened and he sat up in the buggy. He felt dizzy. He felt pain. He looked down at his wound and saw blood still oozing down his stomach. He pressed his hand to the bullet hole and pulled it away as anguish ripped though him.

  He looked around and saw a bunch of lights and heard a bunch of noise. His eyes caught sight of a Ferris Wheel, and his mouth hung open.

  “Mister, you don’t look so good.”

  Billy looked away from the wheel and studied a little girl who was standing right beside the buggy.

  “I’m Mandy,” the little girl said, tearing off a piece of cotton candy with her teeth. “What’s your name?”

  A rumble rolled up his throat and a hoarse crackling noise erupted from his mouth.

  “Bad Billy?” The girl frowned and took another bite of her cotton candy on a stick. “Nice to meet you.”

  He had never seen a child before, and he didn’t know what to make of this creature.

  Mandy held out her cotton candy. “Here, you have it,” she said.

  Billy reached for the stick and put the candy to his mouth like the little girl had done. It melted in his mouth and he grunted with pleasure as he devoured the blue sugar.

  “You sure eat fast, Mister!” the girl said.

  Billy smiled. The girl smiled back and he noticed her teeth were blue.

  “I’ve got to go.” She turned away from Billy, and he felt something wet run down his cheek. His vision clouded and he held a hand to his eye. He didn’t know what was wrong, but it had never happened before.

  Billy stood up and yellow dots flooded his vision. His head swam, and he lost his balance, toppling off the buggy. 400 pounds slapped the concrete walkway.

  He stood up again and walked into the crowd. The people turned and stared and moved out of his way as he drifted through the fair. He shouted things in some language no one could understand. He had no concept of life or that his was quickly sinking into twilight, but he did not want to be alone at this moment. His face was white as snow, and the blood on the concrete was as dark as death.

  Billy spotted the little girl near the arcade entrance and felt more tears rolling down his cold face. He shouted his name. The girl looked up and waved.

  Billy smiled and waved back.

  And then the incredible happened. Billy stopped walking and watched as people started flying through the air, blood splattering the walkway. It was as if some invisible and deadly wind was pushing through the crowd, lifting people up after slicing their necks and flinging them aside as it moved forward.

  Billy let out a gasp. The little girl was in the path of the storm. He bolted from his position and pain stabbed him in his chest. He ignored the flare and pumped his legs, running at a speed unnatural for a person his size. He reached the little girl and flung her inside the arcade like a doll.

  He felt a wind and saw a face, and he felt a sudden burning sensation at his neck. Billy could feel his feet leaving the ground and he thrust out a hand and felt something solid in his grip.

  He flew through the air and landed near a bench. He couldn’t breath. Blood was trickling from his neck. He realized something wet and hairy was still in his hand and he looked. He was clutching a scalp.

  Someone let out an unnatural yell, and Billy looked for the source. He spotted a man in black in front of the arcade. The top of the man’s head was covered in blood. Billy looked at the scalp. He looked at the man.

  The man glared at him, and Billy could see unnatural eyes in a face of cruelty. He grinned, revealing canine teeth and vanished.

  Suddenly, Billy felt a gust of wind. He closed his eyes and felt himself being lifted from the ground again. He opened his eyes, and the man had him by his throat. He looked at the man.

  “I’m going to eat you alive!”

  Billy felt the need for air. He tried to breath but couldn’t. The grip tightened.

  “I would bleed you, but you have almost no blood left. I need to quit talking and eat before you die.”

  The Vampire Man released his grip and Billy fell to the ground. The vampire was upon him and he screamed as a chunk of flesh was ripped from his arm.

  The Vampire Man grinned, his face mere inches from Billy’s. “Does that hurt? If it does, I apologize. But I must say, you’re the best tasting man I’ve met all night . . .”

  Billy pushed his hands together with all his might, and both met a side of the man’s face. The vampire’s head caved in like a beer can.

  “You cocksucker,” the vampire whispered, spitting pieces of teeth out.

  Billy reared back his arm and pushed it forward. The fingers hit their mark and Billy was inside the man’s chest and the heart was pulled clean from the body. The vampire’s eyes dimmed. Billy grinned and put the organ in his mouth.

  He barely had the strength to chew, and he rested on his back, his eyes locked upon the moon. He moved his hand to the bullet wound and took his last breath.

  Part IV: Monster

  The wind gently slapped Bad Billy’s face, rustling his hair. He slowly opened his eyes and saw a moon that was wide and round. Silver light sprinkled the ground, cutting a path over his spent body. He tried to sit up but bolts of pain raked his spine and he convulsed violently on the cement. He looked around at the bodies littering the ground, the congealed pools of blood black on the sidewalk.

  He thought of the little girl and felt something strange for the second time. He lifted a heavy hand to his bruised face and touched a single tear rolling steadily down his cheek. He wondered where she was. He wondered why he was thinking of her.

  His thoughts suddenly turned to the thing that had killed all these people, and he bolted up, ignoring the raging pain that shot
through his body. The creature was on its back, its chest cavity split open by the force of Billy’s hand. It was still scalped, and its obsidian eyes, one on each side of its caved in skull, never blinking, reflected the moon above.

  Billy lay back down. The pain was overcoming any rational thoughts he had of fleeing the scene. He lifted his arm and stared at his veins, deep blue and purple, bulging, threatening to break free of the skin. They throbbed and Billy noticed with horror that they writhed like snakes. He dropped his arm and let out a huge sigh. He stared at the moon and the stars and closed his eyelids.

  He opened them again when the real pain came. Daylight had come. He smelled something. Billy could feel heat rising from his chest and he looked at his hands, which were lightly smoking. His flesh had turned a dull blue at some point, and his veins were now a solid black, running in zig zags over his periwinkle hue.

  The pain was unbearable and he shifted. Smoke clouded his vision, thick and dark, and he looked to the Vampire Man who lay motionless on the grass, flames gently spreading over its unflinching torso.

  And then the sunlight was bright and hit him directly in the face. Billy shielded his eyes and let out a scream. The burst of fire was sudden, and he jumped to his feet, oblivious to the sound of cracking skin or the boiling of clotted blood. He ran like the devil was after him, seeking a place to escape the rays of the sun.

  Billy spotted a trailer in the distance and fled for the shelter, almost stumbling downhill as he burned. And then he was at the shelter, on his knees, crawling under the house into the shadows. The flames died the second he reached darkness and he felt no more pain, only emptiness. He felt the hunger creeping through him, more so than ever before. He also felt very much alone and thought of the little girl. He smiled.

  The smile died when he heard his Uncle Ethan’s voice.

  “Billy, this is Uncle Ethan. Come on, son, let me take you home. Things are gonna be okay from now on.”

  Billy turned his head and spotted his Uncle near the opening of the trailer. His stomach growled.

  “Come on Billy,” Ethan said, the kindness fading from his voice. “Come out right now!”

  Billy didn’t move an inch.

  “You sonofabitch!” Uncle Ethan screamed. “I’ll fucking shoot your other ear off if you don’t get out from under there!” Then he was gone.

  Billy crawled to where his uncle had been and rested his back against a stack of cinder blocks. He debated about going outside to kill him but thought better of it. The sunlight hurt too badly.

  Billy closed his eyes, but the smell of fresh blood and Johnny Walker awoke him. He spotted his uncle’s face scanning the darkness under the trailer. Billy grinned. The hunger was too great.

  Ethan’s face disappeared from under the trailer, and Billy made his move. His hands shot out from the darkness and immediately burst into flames. He wanted to cry out, but instead he sank his mouth into his uncle’s neck and felt the warm blood run down his throat. It felt wonderful, despite the searing pain. He pulled his fangs out of Ethan’s throat and sank his teeth into the meat. He chewed, then pulled his mouth free and clamped down on the throat again. He didn’t want blood anymore. He wanted flesh. He pulled away from his uncle and kept devouring the throat. He ate through the spine and grinned when his uncle’s head fell off.

  Billy screamed then because the blood lust had faded and the fire shooting forth from his body was too much. He looked up and saw a man—the same one who had sent him to the river. He growled through the flames and heard four sharp blasts. He felt the sting of bullets and retreated under the trailer. But not before he grabbed his uncle. Billy dragged the man into the darkness. When the flames were out he fed.

  #

  Chief Clyde Snider, drenched in blood, backed away from the trailer. He turned and fled uphill, past the crowd of onlookers. “Who’s in charge?” he shouted. “Who the fuck is in charge here?”

  A tall, lanky man, his expression emotionless, straightened his neck tie and pressed it to his immaculate white shirt. His skin was alabaster, and his hair was jet black. “Who are you?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Chief Clyde Snider of the City of Avery. My investigation into a mass murderer has led me right here. He’s under that trailer over yonder right now, and he just ate one of my men.”

  The tall man nodded. “Ben Hauser, Georgia Bureau of Investigation, at your service. I’m in charge here. You say a mass murderer is under the trailer?”

  “Yes sir. I’m sure he’s responsible for this mess as well.”

  “He killed all of these people? That’s hard to believe.” Hauser looked beyond Snider and lifted his hand. A radio had miraculously appeared. He spoke briefly. “Pull those EMTs away from the trailer and surround it. We’ve got a possible suspect pinned underneath.”

  Snider grinned. “We’re going to nail that crazy sonofabitch.” His smile quickly faded when he observed Hauser looking him over coldly. “He killed my son,” he explained.

  Hauser remained emotionless. “I want you out of here. I don’t need any cowboy antics during my investigation.”

  “The hell you say,” Snider said. “I’ll damned well stay here until hell freezes over before you see me leave.”

  Hauser lifted his radio. “I need this man” — he raised his finger and pointed at Snider —“escorted from the premises.”

  “Fuck you,” Snider shouted, running away from the GBI agents. “Fucking state,” he cursed. His belly bounced against his uniform that was stained in blood. He could hear men running behind him. He turned his head, panting, and saw they were close, two young boys, barely twenty he guessed. He pulled out his pistol and turned to fire.

  “You motherfuckers!” he screamed.

  They were firing their weapons before he even had his completely raised. The bullets ripped through his body, and he smelled smoke as one bullet grazed his badge and tore into his uniform. The pain was white hot and he fell on his back. He saw buzzards circling the sky and knew he would probably be the last body the EMTs carted off. A form of punishment. Those fuckers, he thought, they’re gonna let the buzzards eat me.

  The two men were now standing over him, frowns upon their faces. “Damn, this is going to piss the boss off,” one said.

  Snider turned his gaze to the buzzards once more. He’d always heard buzzards pissed themselves to cool off. He smiled at that. Then he died.

  #

  GBI agent Ben Hauser studied the trailer carefully, making sure his men were lined precisely.

  “We need to be quick when we move under the trailer. I want him captured a.s.a.p.,” he said through the radio.

  Hauser had seen the flaming man rushing for the trailer. There was a chance he could be dead, but he doubted it. He did believe in the supernatural after all.

  Hauser waved to his men, and they began their crawl under the trailer. He watched them on their bellies as they disappeared under the house like sugar ants and sighed. He wondered what Ashley was doing right now out in the woods with the other pack members.

  Today was turning into a real nightmare. He’d have to figure out someway to get the police chief moved without any questions. He was surprised no officers had asked why the man had been shot. Today was just going too well and it made him very uncomfortable. He’d heard by asking various law enforcement agencies that the death toll was at 247, give or take a few. Some bodies were in so many pieces, it was unknown how many people they totaled.

  Ben sighed, frustrated with himself for the way he’d been treating Ashley lately. He really needed to quit taking out his frustrations with work out on his partner.

  The radio interrupted his thoughts, and he unclasped the Motorola from his belt and placed it to his lips. “Come again?”

  There’s no one under the trailer, just a large hole!

  Ben lowered the radio and stared at the little shelter. He keyed it. “Standby, I’m coming down there.”

  10-4.

  He ran down the hill, his expensive Italian
leather shoes sliding over the grass, the blue silk tie coming untucked from his suit and blowing over his left shoulder. Hauser didn’t hesitate to remove his Tweed Brooks Brothers Coat, just dove under the trailer, the cold earth smacking him hard against his tight chest and abdominal muscles. He commando crawled to the center of the building and stared his second-in-command in the face.

  “Look, Sir.”

  Ben grabbed the Mag Light being offered to him and lowered the flashlight into the hole. He couldn’t see a bottom. “How deep is this?” he asked.

  “We don’t know,” the man replied.

  “How long do you think it has been here?” Ben asked, testing his number two.

  “It’s fresh, Sir.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I can still smell him.”

  “Good. You’ve learned well.” Hauser flashed his light at the edge of the hole. “Look at those claw marks. He’s got some huge talons.” He lowered his hand into the hole and withdrew a handful of soil. “Look how easy I lifted this.” His light flashed to the other side of the hole. “Look at the blood trail. It goes from the front of the trailer to the edge of the hole.”

  “What do you want to do?” the second-in-command asked.

  “I want you to go down into the hole. I would go with you, but there was a slipup outside and now we have to take care of a body.”

  “Oh shit. Were we found out?”

  “No. Our luck has held strong today.” Hauser frowned. “It isn’t good to be so lucky. The better our hand now, the worse our other hand when it falls. Now get your ass down in that hole. Remember, he’s going to be very weak. Don’t take him out though. It’s too risky for you alone. If there’s a tunnel, do not follow it. We’ll sniff his location out. And remember this: if you see him at all, get the hell away from him as quickly as possible. No attacks until the whole gang is assembled. Understand?”

  “I do,” the man said. And then he disappeared down the hole.

  #