My Boyfriend is a Monster (23 page)

“That’s right, I think it was more utter fear and shock,” she recalled passively. “Who was that pudgy little German who took the fall?”

“Mr. Probst,” the Raven recalled. Sinking his sickle into the headless man’s neck he jerked with one quick motion. The blade ran down the body with a steady ease. Clothing and skin parted for fatty flesh to burst up and
outwards. “Male or female my love?” he asked.

She thought for a moment then said, “Male.” She continued to type as her memory brought it forward. “Anton Probst, now that was a trial.”

“He did work out a bit,” the Raven said examining Jonathan. His meat was going to be a little tough. Going into the kitchen he recalled the incident of decades ago. “Mr. Probst killed eight family members. All on his own, in the barn . . .  And then hid their heads. Which were never found,” he said going through the drawers. Finding a large carving knife he returned to the table. “I always wished I could’ve talked to young Mr. Probst,” he said pausing for a moment to think about it. “Master Anton Probst came home in the afternoon and had a nap. Went to do his chores and found the Deering family decapitated in the barn. Robbed the house, sold a revolver and a…” he trailed trying to remember.

The Crow smiled and looked up from her mail. “A pocket watch I believe.”

The Raven snapped his fingers. “A pocket watch, then drank until police picked him up,” he said as if recalling scenes from a movie. Finally remembering what he was doing back in the kitchen he turned around and opened the fridge door. “Ketchup my love?” he asked already knowing the answer.

“Yes please.”

The Raven placed the knife and ketchup on the table and returned to the kitchen. “I don’t know how you can eat that vile slop with your flesh.”

“You put mustard on your burger.”

Peeking from behind a cupboard door he took a deep breath. “Barbequed cow needs flavoring my dear, it’s so blah. Now raw human flesh is alive, excuse the pun. It has copious amount of flavors that should not be sullied by cheap condiments.”

“You’re not eating it.”

Retreating to the cupboard he began murmuring to himself. “The faux pas equivalent of having sour cream with caviar.” Returning to the table with two plates in his hand he suddenly grew a smile. On the table was the carving knife in the clutches of a lifeless Jenny who seemed to have sunk it into the chest of a headless Jonathan. He turned to the Crow waiting for a confession.

She did not look up from the tablet. “Do you think the authorities will buy it?” she asked starting to gleam.

Shaking his head he took the knife out of the chest then out of Jenny’s hand. “You shouldn’t play with your food my love.”

“Just having a little fun lover,” she said.

“So it seems” he replied with a devilish agreement then tore into the flesh of Mr. Gable with frightening speed. Meat and muscle split and severed before her and in only seconds a pile of human beef sat in the middle of the table marinating in its own pool. Sticking his hand down the neck he grabbed onto the collar bone and tossed the corpse to the floor. Then with the same speed and precision he cut away at Jenny, which made a much smaller pile.

“I always said you should have been a doctor,” the Crow said approaching the table. Taking the dead girl by the ankles she reefed her off of the table with a loud discarded thud.

“Never interested me,” he said handing her a plate. Filling it with flesh he noticed how quickly she went for the ketchup. Watching her tap the bottom of the bottle only caused him to roll his eyes.

Grabbing a limp piece and dunking it into the bright red sauce she tried curling the meat so it would go stiff and be easier to inject. But the weight of the flesh made it off balance and she had to go under and up to get a good mouth full. Sinking her front teeth into the human beef she easily tore it from itself. Her back teeth happily punctured the raw popping meat. Exploding in her cheeks with each bite she could taste the vinegary sweetness swirling around the raw flesh that was once Jonathan’s thigh.

Repulsed he turned away. “Disgusting.” Ignoring the flesh on her plate being ruined by ketchup he ripped into his own. Fighting the urge to stuff the whole piece in his mouth he tore it apart making a wet suction sound.

She swallowed. “I’m disgusting,” she laughed waiting for him to agree. Her phone went off and she put down the newly soaked piece. Looking at the message she began to smile. “We h
ave a new job my love,” she said reading on.

But the Raven was not paying attention. He was still reminiscing about the massacre in Philadelphia. “Sure he was suspect number one. But it was all circumstantial. It took twenty minutes I remember reading, twenty minutes for twelve of his peers to find dear Mr. Probst guilty.”

“Looks like were heading to Chicago,” she said. Finishing the message she returned the phone and bit into her beef. Realizing he was not paying attention she decided she would repeat the declaration with more enthusiasm. Quickly debating if she should wait until she swallows since her mouth was full of Jonathan she decided and said, “I love Chicago.”

A little piece of flesh covered in ketchup landed on the table. “Lover,” he said not being able to take his eyes off of it.

Picking it up and tossing it back into her mouth she covered this time. “Sorry.”

“Do you know he is still in Philadelphia?”

“I know my love,” she sighed knowing the story intimately. “I was there when you signed the papers to have his skeleton donated to the college museum. Remember?”

Waiting until his mouth was empty too answer he chewed and chewed. Finally she thought he was messing with her. Her eyes grew as he finally swallowed. “Chicago you say?”

She became excited again, as if hearing it for the first time. “I love Chicago.”

“I know you do my love. And Chicago loves you.”

“So…” she said holding a new piece of ketchup slathered flesh awaiting his reply.

“The Windy City might be nice,” he said and laughed. “Make some new memories.”

Already stuffing the entire piece into her mouth she squealed making a bubbly splatter of ketchup and meat vibrate. Pulling out her phone again she began responding.

“And the job?” he asked. Finding the young lady extremely toug
h he resorted to using his personal blade to cut smaller hunks.

Raising her finger to pause the conversation she proceeded to finish her text. With a couple of clicks and a few drags she began to read the screen. “The House of Crassus,” she said with respect.

“Ah, a high paying assignment,” the Raven interrupted. “An open assignment?” he asked casually.

She shook her head still reading. Finally with a sly smirk she looked up. “To us directly my Love,” she said surprised.

Growing a smug smile he took another bite then walked to the bar. Pouring two drinks he returned and set a glass in front of her. Looking out the large window into the city night he declared. “Were moving up in the world.” Turning to her he raises his glass. “To us. If the great Marcus Licinius Crassus has asked for our expertise specifically, I believe we have been taken a new level.”

“I can already feel our stock elevating,”
she matched then raised hers. Never taking their eyes off each other they drink. Lifting her phone up she reads the message once again to make sure she was getting it right. “We are to find and locate target. Believed to be in Chicago,” she said. Closing her mouth a high screech could still be heard.

“Please Lover, contain yourself,” he said cringing.

“I can’t help it,” she pouts. “There are few proper night spots left in this country. And Chicago, well it’s the Bees Knees.”

Pausing before sinking his teeth into another bite he slowly looks towards her. “Lover,” he said not sure if he heard her correctly.

She embarrassingly ignores him.

Giving her the benefit of
the doubt he decides to ask. “Did you just say, the Bees Knees?”

Looking around the room she waits in hopes that he will let it go and change the subject. He just stares at her. Finally she can’t take it anymore and stares back trying not to laugh at her own silliness. “Well Chicago is the Bees Knees,” she said sticking to her guns.

“That’s what I thought you said,” he said finally taking a bite.

“It’s the Cat’s Meow and the Cat’s Pajamas.”

“Please I -”

“Oh Applesauce and Horse feathers, it’s the Berries.”

He cannot help but giggle and stands up. “I suppose we’ll get all dolled up and hit a juice joint. Have some giggle water, a few hair of the dogs. Then go somewhere swanky and cut a rug,” he animates then cuts another chunk while standing.

Tossing her a piece of flesh she catches it dramatically. “Once the capers over and we collect our clams Daddy,” she said putting her phone away.

“You’re just a regular Moll, aren’t - ya?” he asked standing over Jonathan Gable.

“No, I’m a Bearcat baby,” she said slowly making her way towards him.

Slamming his fist into the headless corpse he brings back the heart.  Violently sinking his fangs into the organ he chews the piece of tough muscle. With a smile and blood around his mouth he holds it out to her.

She shakes her head. “
You know I detest it.”

“Lover, if we’re going to Chicago for a job you will need your protein.”

“No.”

He suddenly embraces
her with his free arm and gazes into her eyes. Gently he kisses her with an almost farewell passion. They part slowly as her now crimson stained lips smile. Taking the heart from him her fangs spike through her gums and sink into it. Chewing with a begrudging effort her smile all but disappears.  The Raven’s eyes flutter feverishly under his lids and then suddenly stop. Slowly opening them they gleam a bright dark brown. “For the bells finally toll. And just ahead, forever silence lurks,” he begins and casts his gaze upon her. “For the night hides intentions. And shadows will betray. The sickles will fall . . . upon Death’s invitation.” 

Abruptly she stops chewing as a gel like juice runs off her lip and
down her chin. Her eyes beam their dark emerald green. Hugging him tightly she raises her lips to his ear and whispers, “Quoth the Raven.”

Lightly kissing her cheek he whisper
s back. “Nevermore.”

CHAPTER 10

ONE: The Quiet Grand Opening

N
athan sat and listened to the radio.

“Another grisly discovery this morning ladies and Gentlemen-”

“That’s right Kevin, a third body has been found.”

“Three?”

“Yup, police aren’t saying a whole lot, but what we do know is the body is male. And sadly this one looks like it might be preteen.”

“Not that anyone getting killed is less sad,”

“No of course not, my apologies if that’s how I made it sound,”

No – no, but when it is kids . . . it really strikes another chord.”

“It sure does. And like the others, is missing a fair amount of flesh including-”

“The heart,”

“Including the heart, that’s right.”

“Well for not saying a whole lot, that is a lot of info Jerry,”

“Well it’s not like they gave out a name and address.”

“Are you sure?”

“Well, by now maybe, it is the Chicago PD,”

Nathan turned off the radio and decided to focus on opening his store. Looking around he sighed. Not because he didn’t think it looked good, because in fact it was quite lovely.
The hardwood floors looked original even though he had them brought in and installed. The carpets were strategically placed where people would stand and look the most but as to not be noticed. The walls were two tones brown with the top being winter sky and the bottom desert camel. The posts throughout the store were the same two tones but the top and bottom reversed. The shelves were hand carved from Mahogany almost fifty years ago by his brother Bo, then put into storage nearby for this exact purpose. 

He had new books and old books. Some read and some never opened. He had first editions scattered throughout the store with some under glass and some framed. Even the frames were antiques from different centuries. Some from different parts of the world. He had no intention for beverage service but little tables beside big chairs that told people to bring your own and stay. He was actually quite pleased with the look of his new store.