by T L Barrett
“Hey, that’s not necessary is it?” Barry said turning from where Kahn was forcing him into the passenger side of the car with his barrel of his pistol.
“No, I suppose it isn’t,” Kahn said.
“Well, I think you should apologize,” Barry said. Kahn sighed.
“Fine, I am sorry for calling you dirty,” Kahn said. “Now get in ze car!”
Barry got in and watched as the little man stumped around the car, keeping the pistol trained on him through the windshield.
“I hate this little bastard,” Glen said.
“Me too. I hope some stranger offers him candy,” Barry said.
“I hope he falls in a gas station toilet the next time he squeezes out a Raisinette,” Glen said.
“Well, I hope he gets gang raped by a pack of Bonobos strung out on PCP!” Barry said. Glen roared with laughter.
“I hope Willy Wonka sues him for breach of contract,” Glen said. Barry snorted a booger on the windshield.
“Vat is so funny?” Kahn asked as he got up into his seat behind the wheel with grunt. He kept the barrel of his gun pointed at Barry’s chest. Barry shrugged.
Kahn got the jeep started with some difficulty holding the gun trained on his werewolf captive. He looked up and sighed. He took out a silk handkerchief and plucked the booger off the windshield.
Kahn throttled the engine with his right hand and threw gravel up in a spray as he bucked up onto the highway.
* * * *
“You made a big mistake getting us together,” Glen hissed from behind the little man. “Even if you manage to get one of us, the other will bite your head off and shit down your little neck.”
“Glen, you’re making him nervous,” Barry said.
“What, Barry, you’re not actually afraid of this little bastard, are you?”
“No, it’s just that I would really like it if he could put the gun down for a minute and drive the car with both hands.”
“You are driving pretty fast,” Glen said. “I can’t get these seat belts to work, you know.”
“I guess you better sit still, then,” Kahn said.
“What is your problem, anyway?” Barry asked. “What have we done to you? I don’t know why you have to follow us everywhere trying to kill us. I guess, you’re a bigot, right?”
“Actually, I have decided not to kill you,” Kahn said.
“Seriously? I mean, then, maybe you could put the gun down?” Glen said.
“That is: I vill not kill you if you help me vith a very old problem.”
“It can happen to anyone, little guy, or so I’ve been told. They have medicine for that though, so you should be in the clear, but I’m not sure Viagra comes in chewable format, little guy,” Glen quipped.
“Vat is the ape talking about?” Kahn asked Barry.
“Never mind, him,” Barry waved a hand. “Tell me why you don’t want to kill us anymore.”
“I talked to someone who helped me see a new perspective,” Kahn said.
“That girl that was so hot for you. You did it, didn’t you? Way to go, tiger!” Barry put out a hand for Kahn to slap. Kahn looked at the hand.
“She vas a lovely lady.”
“I’m sure she was. So how was it?” Barry said. Glen leaned forward so that his enormous face hung nearly between them.
“Ze Kahn does not kiss and tell,” Kahn said.
“Woohoo, this guy is a real Casanova!” Glen said. Kahn turned red.
“Vell, I have traveled quite a bit. I am a cultured gentleman,” Kahn said.
“Does that mean he uses a French tickler?” Glen asked. “Do they make them that small?”
“Glen, shut up,” Barry said. “Tell me, Kahn what could this lady have said that could make the world’s greatest monster hunter show mercy to a couple of schmucks like us?”
“Vell, I remembered vat it vas like to taste love, again,” Kahn said with a faraway look in his face. Glen reached forward to grab the gun. Barry slapped his hand away.
“I used to love a girl, you see, ze most beautiful girl in ze world. Her name was Arabella Fischer. She and I both worked for the carnival master, Hermann Gottliech.”
“Oh, do we really have to listen to the tragic love story of the munchkin. I’ll tell you a tragic story. I just left the two loves of my life in the middle of bumfuck because of you! Why don’t you just kill me instead,” Glen groaned.
“She vas a star gymnast and a famous contortionist,” Kahn, unruffled, continued.
“Continue,” Glen said.
“She dazzled the eye and the heart. Never had someone spoken to me with such dulcet tones, such a noble manner,” Kahn looked lost in his reverie. “Around her, I felt ten feet tall.”
“It’s not as fun as it looks. I hit my head on everything,” Glen muttered.
“I knew my future when I looked into Arabella’s eyes. I vould have done anything for this beauty. I built up the confidence every day to ask for Arabella’s hand in marriage. Finally, I steeled myself and popped her the question.
“I must have overvhelmed her by the passion of my treaties. She told me zat she needed time to consider vhat I had said. Like a gentleman, I gave her all the time in ze world.”
“Little did I know, zat one of the freaks in Goettlich’s carnival was no freak at all, but a monster, a demon! Zat infernal horned creature kidnapped my love and disappeared. In desperation, I searched the land for my love. Once, coming close, I found one of her stained dresses torn apart in the loft of a barn. I swore I would find ze beast who took her. Fate intervened and brought me face to face with an ancient and wise hunter of creatures like the one who had stolen away my love. He lived in the hills alone. He vas missing one eye, and in other ways had the stature and demeanor of ze most terrible Odin. Zere, I pledged to take up his cause to rid ze world of the monsters zat haunt ze shadows of zis world. He trained me in all ze vays of subterfuge and slaying.”
“Ever since that day I have sought to live up to my pledge, in ze hopes zat someday my path and ze path of zat demon would cross. I have found solace for my broken heart in protecting innocent humanity. Everything vas fine, despite ze emptiness of ze soul zat I experienced, zat is until I heard about you.”
“You vere reviled among your kind for rescuing children from a fire. I thought it must be a mistake, but wherever I have followed you, I have found zose who you have spared. Zen I met the beautiful Gretchen, who asked me to reevaluate my single-minded purpose. I realized zat many of ze innocent zat I was protecting were monsters themselves, in zeir own particular fashion. Things were no longer clear. I realized zat it vas a possibility zat I was playing out my wrath for this singular creature against ze world entire. Now, I am tired, I am through vith the mindless pursuit of all the vile things on the Earth.”
“So, you’re going to let us go?” Barry asked.
“No, you are going to prove your reputation. You are going to help me avenge the death of my Arabella vith your very lives if you must.”
“Hey, nobody said anything about fighting no demon!” Glen said from the back seat. Barry swallowed and looked away from Kahn’s penetrating stare.
“Glen, you were the one who said you wanted to be a superhero,” Barry reminded the Sasquatch.
“You’ve got a point there,” Glen said.
“I told you this would lead to trouble,” Barry said.
“So, you know where this demon is now?” Glen asked in a voice suddenly modulated to heroic manliness.
“Yes, one of my contacts texted me ze address of his current location. Ve vill arrive zere tomorrow evening.”
“Wonderful,” Barry muttered.
* * * *
Kahn found a spot wedged between an eternity of cornfield and a creek. There he instructed Barry and Glen to set up camp. He found a stump and watched them with his automatic pistol trained on them.
“Dude, could you not point it at us?” Glen grumbled.
“Could you fight your very bestial natures? No, you coul
d not,” Kahn returned.
“Actually, Glen and I are pretty good at doing just that, for your information,” Barry said, dropping an armful of sticks into a pile.
“Are you?”
“Considering, you made us abandon our car and four incredibly hot twenty-somethings to be your camp slaves in bug-bitten nowhere, and we haven’t eaten you, yeah, I’d say we are pretty much the picture of restraint,” Glen said.
“Well said, buddy,” Barry said.
“Thanks, dude. Now can we kill him?”
Kahn raised the pistol. Glen and Barry stopped. Barry put up a hand.
“A monster is still a monster,” Kahn sneered.
“Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster,” Barry said.
“I am satisfied with zat,” Kahn said.
“You just had to go to comic-con,” Barry muttered to Glen as he walked to get some more sticks. Glen shrugged and sat down on the ground.
Later, as the monsters lay down on the ground to sleep under the stars, Kahn still sat on the stump, the pistol in his hand.
“You seriously aren’t going to stay up the whole time watching over us are you?” Glen asked.
“I do what is necessary, ape man,” Kahn said.
“Suit yourself,” Glen said and closed his eyes.
When the monsters woke up at mid-morning, they saw that Kahn had fallen asleep, the pistol fallen on the ground beside the stump. The little man sat with his chin tucked and his eyes closed.
“Psst,” Barry hissed to Glen. Glen looked, and a big grin lit up his face.
Barry motioned with his hand across his throat. Glen considered this for a moment. Finally, he shook his head and crawled to his feet. He motioned for Barry to follow. He went to the creek, urinated into the water and sighed.
“Do you think we should just run and hope he doesn’t catch us?” Barry asked.
“No, we agreed to help him. Remember, Barry? We are duty bound to see it through,” Glen said.
“Are you serious? He’s a lunatic. He’ll probably just kill us after he gets his revenge,” Barry hissed.
“We’ll see. For the meantime, give me a hand.”
Glen and Barry gathered dandelions that populated the bank of the creek. They twined the greens together like two girls, giggling to each other.
When Kahn awoke, the monsters were smiling at him from the dying campfire.
“Good morning, princess,” Glen quipped. Kahn started and reached up feeling the elaborate crown of dandelions with its train of green and gold running over his shoulders.
Kahn was not amused.
* * * *
A few hours later, after Glen had become fed up with Kahn’s taste in opera and had flatulated a cloud of noxious fumes about the interior of the jeep. Barry just managed to convince Kahn not to shoot Glen when they arrived in the suburbs of St. Louis.
“This is where evil lives?” Glen asked as they drove past cul de sacs of manicured lawns and mcmansions.
“Makes sense to me,” Barry said, wrinkling his nose at the affluent show of wealth and materialism.
Kahn drove them a few mile in a maze of enormous luxuriant houses, some crammed right up against each other and some with their own private ponds. He swung the jeep around and descended a steep drive and onto a larger highway.
“Ze house is up zat bank,” Kahn said quietly. “We’ll go through zose trees,” he said. “Once ve are zere, ve vill be able to make an assessment of ze situation.” Barry, Glen and Kahn got out and entered the forested hillside. They climbed quickly and rounded the top. Once there they were surprised to find the house was built into the side of the hill. A few darkened windows faced this side. Light came from around the corner where a large picture window faced the woods on that side.
On the opposite side, the driveway ran back down to the road. The driveway was filled with BMW’s sports cars and a Lexus.
“Looks like your demon friend is holding a party,” Glen said. Kahn hissed for him to be silent.
“Zere might be a whole cabal of demons in zere,” Kahn said. “Barry, you must go incognito into ze lair and scout out ze situation. Ve vill wait for your signal.”
“What? I can’t—what, does incognito mean?”
“It means without having them know that you are there, or in disguise,” Glen offered.
“I know what incognito means, Glen, I mean, how am I supposed to do that? I’m not a secret agent.”
“Go in your human form, Barry,” Kahn said. “Go in and tell them that you’ve been invited. If you get into any trouble, howl. Ve vill come.”
“We got your back, buddy,” Glen assured him. Barry raised up a finger, looked at Kahn’s pistol still pointed at his chest, and sighed. He moved off through the trees toward the front of the house.
“Let us go to ze back. Ve vill be able to see inside. Try to find something large to throw through the window,” Kahn told Glen. Glen nodded and followed the little man through the trees.
* * * *
As Barry moved down toward the house, he froze and ducked low. Two people were coming up the driveway, laughing and talking quietly to each other: a man and a woman. The woman was wearing a revealing angel costume, with little feathered wings and a wire halo. The man was decked out in a glittering harlequin outfit.
Great, Barry panicked, a costume party. How am I supposed to fib my way into a costume party. He crouched and thought about it for a few minutes. Finally, he smacked himself in the forehead, transformed into a hairy version of himself and walked out into the driveway.
He mounted up some stone stairs, knocked on the door and rang the doorbell.
“I got it!” he heard a woman call. Barry put his hand up to his mouth and sniffed. He winced and smoothed out his Hawaiian shirt.
A beautiful woman in her late thirties with dark hair opened the door. She wore a red hair band with horns. She wore little else except for a red negligee. Her eyes widened in fear.
“Hey, it’s okay—” Barry started.
“Ahhh!” the lady screamed. “That is such a cool costume! Wait a minute, is that you Neil, from the gym? Arabella didn’t think you were going to come. Wait till she sees you. She’s going to eat you up!” Barry stood speechless as the demon-dressed lady leaned close and pressed her lips against his hairy ear. Barry’s breath was engulfed by the scent of potent cocktails and weed. “Just maybe, I’ll eat you up myself.”
The devil woman grabbed him by the shirt front and dragged him into a lavish foyer and up a few carpeted stairs. The top opened into a large modern kitchen. Two men, one wearing a three musketeer outfit, the other in a Dracula outfit, chatted and ate from a large spread of snacks. Neither of the men wore pants.
What the hell is going on here? Barry wondered.
“Boys, this is Neil from the Gym,” the devil woman announced. Both of them men turned their heads. The musketeer’s deviled egg slipped from his fingers. Barry couldn’t help but notice both of the men’s lower bodies react to the sight of a werewolf.
“Hi,” Barry said.
“Isn’t his costume the best?” the devil woman asked.
“What’s he supposed to be,” Dracula asked, recovering, “a werewolf tourist?”
“You’re just jealous, Phil,” the devil woman said, and took Barry by the hand. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to the rest of the girls.”
“Maybe he’s the gay werewolf that lives next door,” the musketeer muttered. Barry turned and growled. He noticed the effect on the men’s anatomy with guilty satisfaction.
The devil woman took him back down some stairs through a small hallway and into a huge living room.
It took a long moment for Barry to realize what was going on. At first his mind caught flashes here and there of people in costumes writhing on top of each other. On large leather couches women bobbed up and down on top of masked men.
“Oh, my, God,” Barry said.
“I know, huh?” the devil woman said. “It kind of takes your breath away at f
irst. Is this your first time to something like this?” she asked and leaned against him, her arm wrapped in his.
“Yes,” Barry said, mesmerized by the upper-middle class orgy that writhed around him.
“Hey, guys! We’ve got a bona-fide party virgin here,” the devil woman shouted. Suddenly, women paused in fellatio, and men turned from mid thrust. Barry lifted a hand awkwardly in greeting.
Then they applauded him. A woman in a cat suit slinked close.
“Back off, Sally!” the devil woman hissed. “I saw him first!” The cat woman frowned and slinked back to a pile of rolling couples.
“Come on, let’s go see Arabella,” she said and took him through a large doorway into a spacious, but dimly lit bedroom. On a huge bed, a goat man with split hooves sat back against the headboard. He made out with two women as they moaned and took turns fondling him. One look, told him the creature wasn’t evil, but he could smell a thick woody musk about the room. He was reminded of Greek Urns and Mister Tumnus from The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.
“Guess who showed up, Arabella,” the devil woman said. Barry turned his head and saw a small and beautiful blonde woman bent over the corner of the bed as a black man in a Zorro mask thrust into her from behind. The woman turned her pretty, constrained face up to them and smiled.
“It’s Neil, from the gym,” the devil women said.
“Ugh, that’s—that’s not Neil,” Arabella managed in a dulcet European accent.
“Yeah, it is. Look at him,” the devil woman said and ran a hand down to Barry’s belt and started unbuckling it.
“No, no, I’m sorry, I’m not Neil,” Barry said, took the devil woman’s arm in his hand and drew it away.
“Arabella?” he asked and took a step toward the German woman.
“Oh, I get it. Another fuckin’ blonde addict. Jesus, suit yourself, bastard,” the devil woman said and tromped back into the living room.
Barry stepped closer and leaned over. Arabella, bobbed on the bed, wrinkling the comforter.
“Ah, Arabella, could I talk to you about something. It is urgent I’m afraid. You are going to want to hear what I have to say,” Barry said. Arabella reached up and started undoing Barry’s buckle.