Night of the Slasher Read online

  “That I do,” I said. “Still, nothing to worry about. We’ll stay the weekend, get the place in order. Everything will be gravy.”

  “ ‘Gravy’? Is that what the youths say now?” Octavius quirked up an eyebrow.

  I shrugged. “More or less.”

  It wasn’t.

  “It’s only for a weekend, and if he doesn’t show then, I believe he won’t show at all.”

  Octavius seemed to be talking more to himself than to me. He looked up, and there was something like fear in his eyes. Something I hadn’t seen too often in all the time I’d known the monster-master, the man who’d slain monsters with my father many moons ago.

  It made me nervous. More nervous than I cared to admit.

  “Don’t worry,” I told him. “We’ll be there. We’ll do our best.”

  Octavius smiled, the fear receding from his gaze for the moment. “I know you will, Abraham. Remember your training.”

  I sighed. My training.

  “In a way, this might be good practice,” he said.

  “How do you mean?”

  He didn’t answer directly. “Just remember the toads,” he said.

  2

  Goblin Goodbyes

  We got back to my apartment about an hour or so later.

  Slayer had graduated from Spongebob Squarepants to The Fairly Oddparents. I’d upgraded a few things in the place, too, with the winnings we’d earned from the gaslings. The TV being one of them. No longer was it a dinky, blurry flat screen from the early 2000s. Now it was fifty inches, ultra-high definition, name-brand.

  Slayer was gawking at Timmy Turner, Wanda, and Cosmo. He’d even taken to holding the remote like a wand, and trying to cast spells on various household objects—obviously without much success, but it made me nervous sometimes.

  Do Goblins know magic? I should ask Maddie…

  “Hi, buddy,” I greeted him.

  “Huh!” Slayer said back. That was his way of saying hello. A quick glance at us, then his eyes were back on the TV.

  We had come back to start packing. Today was Thursday, and we had to be at the camp Friday afternoon. Octavius had taken the liberty of signing us up long beforehand—he knew we’d say yes—and the other counselors were expecting us.

  The only problem was the fact that none of us had done much manual labor. Monster hunting was our trade. I guess we’d try our best.

  “I’m hungry,” Zack said.

  “You’re always hungry,” Maddie retorted.

  “Want to head down to Subway?” he asked, ignoring his girlfriend’s comments. They were nothing new to him. Even when they hadn’t technically been an item, they were always jabbing at one another.

  The TV droned on with the annoying voices of cartoon characters. Slayer laughed intermittently.

  “No, I’m gonna head down to Val’s,” Maddie said. “Gotta find out as much about Cageface as I can.”

  She was always doing stuff like that. Research. She always had her nose in a book. It wasn’t for me. Definitely wasn’t for Zack, either. We were more the video-game-and-movie type.

  “Oh, yeah, that’s a definite pass from me,” Zack said.

  I nodded my agreement. I’d rather watch The Fairly Oddparents than go visit Val and put up with all that sexual tension between her and the werewolf she’d been keeping captive.

  Maddie leaned down and kissed Zack on the cheek. “I’ll see you later, then.” She walked toward the door, then looked back at us and said, “You guys had better get packing. No video games.”

  “Not like Slayer will let us have the TV anyway,” I said.

  “Nah!” Slayer agreed.

  “Well, don’t forget. I don’t want you guys waiting until the last possible second.”

  That’s exactly what we did.

  It was Friday morning, pushing noon. I managed to stuff a bunch of clothes and socks into my suitcase just as Zack texted that he was outside of the apartment building, and that Maddie was already a little upset that we were behind schedule.

  Slayer had tried climbing into my suitcase on more than one occasion. I kept telling him ‘no,’ and it kept breaking my heart. I’d have loved for him to go along with us, but I didn’t think bringing a weird little goblin to a place full of strangers would go too well.

  Then again, what do I know?

  I’d arranged for Val to come babysit Slayer. I wasn’t excited about the prospect of her staying in my place, but I didn’t have much of a choice. Slayer liked Val, and that was all that mattered. I figured it would be fine as long as she kept her werewolf boy-toy back at her place. I didn’t want that fella marking his territory all over my apartment.

  Slayer dove into my suitcase again, and I had to drag him out. He went, kicking and screaming and gnashing his little razor blade teeth.

  “I’m sorry, big guy. You can’t. It’s too dangerous,” I explained.

  He frowned at me. If there was any creature used to danger, it was him.

  He’d once slain a mutated werewolf and two mutated vampires in less than forty-eight hours. Then, at the Monster Games, he’d been around all those crazed creatures that had wanted to tear my head off. And there was no telling what he’d been through before all that, in Scandinavia.

  So yes, he knew danger.

  I just didn’t know how to tell him that the counselors wouldn’t know what to make of him. They’d probably lose their minds if they were presented with evidence that goblins exist, let alone monsters.

  Reluctantly, Slayer went to the couch and slouched onto the cushions.

  Maddie had taken it upon herself to buy me a few throw pillows, both because it was more professional, and because she was sick of seeing Zack and I sleeping with balled-up dirty clothes under our heads whenever we went on a gaming or horror movie binge. Which I had no problem with.

  These throw pillows swallowed Slayer up. Sometimes, I wouldn’t even notice he was nestled in between them until one started moving. On more than one occasion, I thought my house had become haunted. Which would suck.

  “C’mon, Slayer,” I said. “You can watch as much TV as you want, ‘cuz I won’t be here to tell you to stay away from the screen. I’ll even leave behind a few bucks so you can order pizza. How does that sound?”

  Slayer, poked his head up at me, his eyes teary, then he folded his arms firmly over his chest. He did this type of thing whenever he was angry, which seemed like it was a lot.

  Goblins, man.

  I don’t recommend keeping one in your small apartment.

  With his lips closed, he made a hmph sound.

  I accepted this was just how it was gonna be, and leaned over and kissed the top of his head.

  He turned away, not having any of it.

  “All right, buddy,” I said. “If that’s how you want it to be. But I hope this isn’t the last time you see me…I lead a dangerous life.”

  Slayer wasn’t biting.

  “I’m just saying…” Then I turned and headed for the door.

  I cracked it open, but before I could step out into the hallway, I heard his little footsteps pitter-pattering across the carpet.

  “Nuh!” he shouted.

  He jumped up on my back and hugged me around the shoulders.

  “That’s my guy!” I said.

  “Don’ guh!” Slayer mumbled.

  “It’s only a couple days, buddy. I’ll be back in no time. And Aunt Val’s going to come over and keep you company while we’re gone.”

  “Nuuuuhh.”

  I set my suitcase down, reached back, and pulled him off of me. “Playing hardball, I see,” I said. “Fine. If it’ll make you happy, you can call Fizzler and Gizzler and invite them to come watch a movie with you or something. How’s that sound?”

  Slayer smiled wide. Nodded.

  I shooed him back inside, the door cracked. “But if I come back and there’s slime everywhere, I’ll be very angry. Do you understand?”

  Slayer nodded.

  “I’ll take away your TV
privileges for a whole week. That doesn’t sound good, does it?”

  He shook his head.

  “Good. Now I gotta go. You know how Maddie gets if we’re running late,” I said.

  The goblin screwed his face up into a mock grimace, like he’d just sucked on a lemon.

  “Right! That’s pretty good. I see you’ve been practicing.”

  Slayer nodded quickly.

  I bent down and kissed the top of his head again, ruffled his hair, and slipped out into the hallway.

  The college guy across from my apartment was standing in his door with an empty pizza box in his hand. His eyes were glazed over and his jaw was slack. The smell of marijuana drifted from inside.

  My stomach dropped. The whole time I was talking to Slayer, the college guy had been right there, watching me.

  I fumbled for words, trying to come up with an explanation for what he’d just seen.

  Luckily, I didn’t have to find the words.

  The college guy suddenly looked like he was about to cry. He dropped the pizza box and backed into his apartment, into that heavy cloud of marijuana smoke.

  “Dude,” he said, “I am way too high right now.”

  He closed the door, leaving me in the hallway with my suitcase in hand.

  My features relaxed, and I shrugged.

  Thank God for Mary Jane.

  3

  The Slashers

  The drive was about two hours. It got longer when Zack made us pull off the highway at a McDonald’s halfway through.

  “Dude, I can’t live off of wieners and marshmallows for a whole weekend,” he said.

  “That’s what she said,” I added from the backseat, expecting a huge laugh. Didn’t really get it. Comedy just isn’t for me, I guess. You can add that to the long list of things that aren’t my thing.

  Zack took a hand off the wheel and gave me a high-five.

  “You guys are gross,” Maddie said. “I’ll never understand why it takes so long for men to grow up.”

  “I’ll never understand women. Period,” Zack said, grinning.

  Inside the McDonald’s, the smell of French fries and grease punched me in the nose. We still had maybe fifty or so miles before we reached Moonfall, which was about forty-five minutes outside of Pittsburgh.

  We took a booth back in the corner. The table was sticky with spilled soda. Crumbs were embedded beneath the congealed syrup like bugs frozen in amber. A quick glance around the place let me know that most of the tables were like that.

  Plus, it was busy.

  There was about half a dozen cars lined up at the drive-thru, and a family reunion’s worth of weary travelers with rambunctious kids stuffing their faces with burgers, fries, and milkshakes. If you want to see America—the real America, not like the one on TV—go to a McDonald’s off a major highway. That’s about as American an experience one can get.

  Zack ordered a Big Mac and a Coke. I opted for the chicken nuggets. Maddie ordered a small fry, then when she was through with it, poached off of our fries and Zack’s Coke.

  But the meal wasn’t the important part of our stop at McDonalds.

  “May as well try to get some information into those thick heads of yours,” Maddie said around a mouthful of fries.

  From her bag, she pulled out the file Octavius had given to us. She didn’t stop there. She also pulled out her own notebook and flipped open the cover. The paper was stuffed with her cramped handwriting. Margin to margin, every line.

  “Geez, Maddie,” Zack said, “you are a nerd. You know that, right?”

  She reached into his fries.

  “I’m not a nerd. I’m just doing my job. You know, that thing we’re paid to do… Even though I do most of the work here—”

  “Hey, that’s not fair,” I said.

  “Most of the research work, I mean,” she corrected.

  “Which amounts to a lot, babe,” Zack said. He gave her a condescending pat on the shoulder, and she growled at him.

  “I’m betting my salary that neither of you read your copies of the file. Nor did you take it upon yourself to do your own research. Am I right?” she asked.

  We didn’t answer. I made sure my eyes were anywhere besides her face. She had this motherly way about her that made us feel like the scum of the Earth.

  But she was right. I hadn’t cracked the file open. The Fairly Oddparents had started getting good, and Zack brought over this new video game…plus, I should’ve been packing, and it was all too much in too little time.

  I shook my head, deciding to own up to my mistakes.

  “No, I didn’t,” I admitted.

  “Me, either,” Zack said, looking at the tray on the sticky table in front of him.

  “Surprise, surprise,” Maddie said. When we didn’t say anything, she rolled her eyes, and continued. “Ah, c’mon, I’m not mad. I don’t mind doing research; it’s fun. And I found a lot of cool stuff.”

  She flipped a page in her notebook. A few black and white copies of crime scene photos acted as a bookmark. They were so grisly, I turned my head away as my stomach clenched. I didn’t want my chicken nuggets coming back up.

  “Oh, God,” Zack mumbled. He gagged.

  Then I gagged.

  It was a chorus of gagging. A few parents from nearby tables shot us dirty looks. Thankfully we didn’t vomit. We held it down like champs.

  The pictures portrayed a few of Cageface’s victims. There was a camp counselor in his Camp Moonfall t-shirt, which was soaked through with darkness. Blood. He was splayed out in the woods beneath a tall pine tree, and his head was about five feet away. Eyes wide open. Another picture showed a girl suspended from a broken window in one of the cabins. She was hanging by a stretch of her innards.

  I pushed the book away. “I don’t really wanna—” I began.

  “I know, I know. But just so you know, that’s what we could be dealing with,” Maddie said.

  Zack, looking considerably pale beneath his sunglasses and patchy stubble, said, “Yeah, right. If Cageface killed all those people in the eighties, he’d be close to an old man by now. I’m not afraid of any old men!”

  “Zack,” Maddie said, “he has a bear trap on his face. Embedded in the skin. He’s obviously defying the basic laws of humanity.”

  He shook his head.

  “So you think he’s supernatural, like Octavius said?” I asked. As if Octavius is ever wrong.

  I’d considered this myself. Although I’d been hoping that it wouldn’t be the case—that we’d just be protecting the camp from a deranged, human psychopath—I knew deep down it wasn’t going to be that easy. Because it never was.

  Maddie nodded. “Aren’t they all?”

  She flipped the page in her notebook. Turned it so it was facing me. I looked away before the contents could set me off again.

  “Maddie, I don’t want to see any more people hanging by their intestines…”

  “No more pictures. It’s a list,” she said.

  Reluctantly, I looked. She wasn’t lying.

  “These are all I could find. They’re officially called ‘Slasher Incidents’ in BEAST’s files. However, Val had quite a collection of information that wasn’t in BEAST’s files.”

  We could see that by Maddie’s full notebook.

  “Doesn’t she always?” Zack said. He still wouldn’t look at the notebook.

  I was, though. The list was about twenty names. Not made-up names; nothing like ‘John Doe’ or ‘Jane Person’. I had heard of these names before. Training at the Academy, working at BEAST, one heard a lot about nearly every supernatural incident, both on the record and off.

  “These are just in America,” Maddie said. “Slashers that were confirmed as supernatural beings. No crazy, revenge-fueled moms with an axe.”

  “Darn,” Zack said. “Those would be a lot easier to kill.”

  “Right,” Maddie said, rolling her eyes. “But they all have their weaknesses. Take the Cabbage Patch Killer, for example. Some deranged psycho
path transfers his soul into a Cabbage Patch doll, and then goes on a rampage. The way you beat him is by transferring his soul into something else. Here—” She flipped the page. Stapled above her cramped handwriting was a picture of a Cabbage Patch Doll with blank eyes and a mischievous smile. “They transferred his soul into a…” She turned the page again. Another picture.

  “Rock,” Zack deadpanned. “They transferred his soul into a rock?”

  Maddie nodded with an eager smile on her face. If monster-hunting ever got stale for her, she’d make a great teacher at the Academy.

  “A rock can’t do much damage unless it’s in the hands of someone with malicious intent,” she explained. “So for now, the Cabbage Patch Killer’s soul sits in a hunk of hard earth in a safe somewhere. For eternity, probably.”

  “Or until he turns to sand,” Zack said.

  “Genius,” I said.

  “Poor guy,” Zack commiserated. “I’d hate to be a rock.”

  “With that brain of yours, you pretty much already are,” Maddie teased.

  “Har-har,” he replied.

  “Also, don’t have sympathy for the Cabbage Patch Killer. He killed like fifty people when he was the doll, and countless more when he was a human.”

  “Yeah, yeah. I guess you’re right,” Zack said.

  Maddie flipped the page again. No picture this time, just a heading: ‘the Night Stalker’.

  “Another example. The Night Stalker haunted people’s dreams. If he killed you in your dreams, he killed you in real life, so you’d wake up dead,” Maddie said.

  “You can’t really wake up dead…” Zack said. “If you’re dead, you’re not waking up.”

  “You know what I mean,” she said. “So how did they beat the Night Stalker? Easy. They drew him out of the dream world and beat the crap out of him.” She was practically giddy with excitement.

  “That doesn’t sound easy,” I said.

  “It is when you’re a group of telepaths,” Maddie said. Zack and I both looked at her like she’s crazy. So she repeated, “Yep. Telepaths. They banded together and used their mind powers to beat the crap out of him so badly that he fell out of the dream world. He was powerless in our world. Vulnerable. So they blew his head off.”