My Boyfriend is a Monster (33 page)

“He must have ran off when he heard you coming,” she said and sniffled.

“Yes, there’s been another attack,” Nathan said into the phone that wasn’t even connected to anyone.

“I was just going home . . .” she said starting to break down. “He was so strong, like inhuman,” she cried getting to her feet. “He said he was going to . . . eat me, he started biting,” she said finally standing.

“Yes, a
woman has been attacked.”

“Help me,” Tina cried still holding out her arms.

“No, she’s dead,” he said plainly.

Tina stopped crying.

“I’m positive,” Nathan said then slipped the phone back into his pocket.

Tina stood dumbfounded trying to get a look at Nathan when suddenly his eyes beamed. “Wait-” was all she got out before Nathan was in front of her sq
ueezing her throat. She tried to speak but his grip was to powerful.

“I already had to pass up dinner,” Nathan said and wrenched her throat from her body causing blood to spray everywhere. Tina dropped to her knees trying to stop the blood from filling the ground
. Suddenly he was flipping her on her back and driving his hand straight into her chest. Fighting for breath and turning pale she could not even scream in pain. Nathan looked into her eyes as he clutched her heart. Her body started to convulse and her eyes started to rupture. “I’m going to enjoy eating you,” he said as she tried to speak. He heard the steps and then saw her look into the dark door way off to the side. Nathan smiled at her letting his eyes glisten off the glow of the light above. Turning to the door way then back at Tina he shook his head. She extended her hand towards it, trying to call out.

But Tina could not
call out, she could only wait and die.

“Solibus et Lunis,” Nathan growled ripping her heart from her chest.

THREE: A Bloodhound in Japan

The black Toyota Crown pulled into the park and fly of the Haneda Airport Tokyo in the Kanto region. It sat running as the two representatives of the Order sat in the front and their guest, Merrick, sat in the back. The two representatives were twin siblings. Kimiko was the guide and interpreter while Hitoshi would find answers to the more difficult questions, usually by intimidation, questioning and torture. The Order spanned the entire globe but held its main office in Tokyo Japan and the twins enforced and upheld its laws to all Monsters visiting or living in the continent of Asia. Merrick was not allowed to conduct business for Marcus unless he was chaperoned, unless wanting to start a war. So Merrick tracked down every lead he had on Nathan from flights out of Italy to leads all over Asia. All while on the short leash of the Order
. His boss, Marcus, never got along with the Order and it did not help that Nathan spent decades studying under Sensei Musashi, one of the founders and defender of the Order.

“I am sorry this trip was uneventful Mr. Merrick,” Kimiko said looking forward.

“Months of bullshit,” Merrick said calmly making Hitoshi smile and look back. Merrick met him in the eyes. “You could have told me he wasn’t here.”

Kimiko still looked
out the window, straight ahead. “We did not know,” she said with a bit of sympathy. Hitoshi raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders revealing a little smirk.

“Maybe not, but I am sure a couple of days after I arrived you did,” Merrick said glancing at his watch.

“Look at all the great things we saw together,” Hitoshi intervened. “Mongolia, China, Kazakhstan, India, Sri Lanka, Bangladesh, Cambodia, Vietnam, Malaysia,” he said listing off all of their destinations with a look of school importance.

“All crossed off my bucket list now,
thank you,” Merrick tried to interrupt, but did not.

“East Timor, Philippines, Taiwan, South Korea, North Korea and of course,” he said and paused before waving his hands towards the window. “Japan,” he finished feeling quite proud of himself in reminding Merrick of the all the places Nathan was
not, and the time they wasted looking.

Merrick didn’t want to show any weakness in representing Marcus or the Inmortalis Corporation and channeled all his will into being calm. He wanted to check his watch again but knew it would only show weakness and proof that the Order still controlled and dictated everything. Something the Inmortalis Corporation has spent a long time trying to disprove and change.

“Your visit was uneventful, deepest apologies,” she offered.

“Yeah well, what can you do?” Merrick asked getting ready to leave.

Kimiko turned to her brother a little confused. “Kore wa dōiu imi desu ka,” she said hoping he could explain what Merrick just said.

“It’s English for, shit happens,” Hitoshi said looking back at Merrick for some affirmation.

“Yeah, something like that,” Merrick affirmed opening the door. He went to step out of the vehicle then paused. “If you weren’t brother and sister I’d tell you to go fuck yourselves. So instead, Yoi ichinichi o,” he said and left the car and headed straight into the airport without looking back.

Hitoshi put the window down on his sisters side and leaned over her and yelled out, “Gokigen yō.”

“Shitsurei ne,” Kimiko said.

“What? I said good bye and good luck,” Hitoshi defended.

“You said it in a way you did not mean,” Kimiko said.

“It’s called sarc
asm,” he said sarcastically.

“Watashi wa sukide wa nai koto,” she said giving him a disapproving frown.

“Yeah well, you don’t like a lot of things sis,” Hitoshi said with a laugh meant to antagonise her.

Inside the airport Merrick headed to the counter while imputing a number on his phone. He waited while a series of clicks connected him
. Finally it began to ring, being answered almost immediately. “Yeah, I’m leaving now,” he said glancing at the board to make sure his flight wasn’t delayed. “Of course, then I’ll change it.” He stopped walking and stood still while he received instructions. “Of course,” he said. “I’m here now. No.” He listened carefully. “Yes, I’ll watch them close. Just those two?” he asked. “Okay, for now then. Send me everything,” he said disconnecting the call. He walked to the counter and was met by a pretty agent with a pretty smile.

“Yōkoso,” she said and held out her hand waiting for his ticket.

“Konnichiwa, eigo wa dekimasu ka?” Merrick asked hoping she spoke English.

“Yes, I speak English,” she said still waiting for the ticket.

Merrick handed it to her then explained, “I need to change flights.”

“Of course Mr. Pershing, where would you like to change it to?” she asked typing in his information.

“St. Louis Missouri, the United States of America,” Merrick instructed.

The agent typed away until she looked up and smiled. “I have a flight that leaves in thirty minutes, one stop in San Francisco International for one hour and forty minutes,” she said waiting to see if that was acceptable.

“Perfect,” Merrick said handing her his credit card.

She typed again and then waited for the printer to spit out his new ticket. “And how was your stay Mr. Pershing?” she asked still waiting for the printer to finish.

“How was my stay?”

Nodding as the printer finally stopped she tore the ticket from the machine and handed it to him.

“I’m not sure how you say it in Japanese,” Merrick said with a smile and taking the ticket from her. “But I hope when the next Tsunami comes,” he started as the agent seemed to lose her smile. “It swallows this entire fucking country and everyone in it,” Merrick said tapping his finger on the counter. Then he pointed at her and winked. “Jā mata ne,” he offered and headed towards his boarding number.

“Itte irasshai,” She said, which meant - go and come back - but her bewildered and distressed face did
not convey the meaning at all.

CHAPTER 14

ONE: Don’t Shed a Tyre

T
he German’s eyes went milky white as the expression of shock and surprise seemed to be frozen on his face. He looked around the room but everyone in it shared no concern that he was about to die. Looking back at the man in front of him he tried to speak.

“Oh, fucking shut up,” the man named Tyre (sounds like Tear) said with a strong Scottish accent. Tyre lifted his hand holding a heart that was still pumping. He did not look like a man who would proclaim himself a God. He was short and almost chubby. His bald head looked like it was by choice but even if it wasn’t you could tell it would be thin. His long red goatee had specks of silver streaking through it and the scar on his left c
heek had almost faded. But the large scar sticking out of his shirt on the top of his chest looked like it was long and recent.

The German fell to his knees reaching out and lightly grabbing at his pant leg. Tyre kicked him and he fell backwards onto his back. The German who was almost gone looked up at the man holding his heart still in shock. “Tyre, please,” he said expelling a long and
labored breath that hissed its way out of his throat.

“Say your own fucking prayers,” Tyre said walking away. He produced a top and bottom row of long sharp teeth and sunk them forcefully into the heart. The organ made a wet popping sound as blood burst from it in every direction. He took another bite and struggled, forcing him to pull his hand away from his mouth unt
il it snapped. He looked at a large man standing by the door. “Clean that stain from my floor,” he instructed not even looking back. Throwing the heart behind him Tyre spit the remaining peace on the floor.

He was named by his father, Odin. After the Old Norse word for law, later it would literally
mean . . . God. Like a lot Chakan he was a bastard child born from one of his father’s many conquests during a raid of Northern Scotland. He was never welcome in his father’s kingdom by his step mother, the Queen, who would help create the myth of him having only one hand. One of her favorite tortures or pranks, as she would usually defend, to pull on Tyre was to chop off his right hand and hide it from him. Tyre would scour the Kingdom looking for it, sometimes for days. Once found he would reattach it, but the pain and humility helped sculpt the Monster he would become. It was believed that Tyre was quite weak for a Chakan. His almost sickly manner made him seem more like a blemish on his Father’s stellar reputation, some even despised him for it. The only ones who really took any interest in him at all was his teacher, a general in his Father’s army (teaching was the General’s punishment for failure on the battlefield) and his cousin Loki, who’s constant lies and trickery made him almost as unpopular.

Unfortunately for the rest of them, it came to pass that Tyre was not weak at all, it was soon revealed that the boy possessed all Five Rings and grew stronger as the years went on.
His body was only adapting to all the power that was growing inside. Year after year he became more and more powerful rivaling even the mighty Elementals of Greece and Rome. He eventually murdered his step mother and was cast from his Father’s kingdom, never to return.

But he disobeyed and returned with his fathers most decorated general and teacher Percival. With the help of his cousin Loki they laid siege to the kingdom. He was victorious and in the process killed his father’s beloved son and half-brother Thor. He then killed his fathe
r. Leaving the kingdom to Loki who would shape the Scandinavian landscape and dictate the confusing Viking Mythology.

He sat down at the table with two other men, Percival his right hand and Quinn, who was an Elemental and head of security.

“I hate Germans, arrogant cunts the lot of ‘em,” Tyre said wiping blood from his hands. “You’d think after losing that many wars they’d be a bit more humbled,” he said now wiping around his mouth.

Percival wasn’t really paying attention. He was watching the pool of blood expand in size on the carpet. “That carpet is fucking ruined son,” Percy said watching two men pick up the lifeless German and wait as another man looked for a big enough bag to wrap him.

Tyre looked behind him then back at Percy. “Yeah, so,” he said not showing much concern.

“That’s a Central Persian Fereghan, that’s fifty thousand pounds today.”

“It’s not my blood ruining your rug Percy,” Tyre said with a smile then finished with a German accent. “Its Za Germans blood.”

“Another reason to hate them, eh
Boss,” Quinn said knowing it would make his boss laugh, which it did.

“Do you know how old that carpet is?”

“Then get a fucking new one,” Tyre said pouring himself some tea.

“Well yeah sure, I’ll just give’em a quick call,” Percy said then bobs his head from the left and to the right thinking sarcastically. “Oh yeah right, the store that sold me that carpet closed, four fucking centuries ago.”

Quinn was aghast. “Percy, you telling me you paid fifty thousand quid, four hundred years ago?”

“Shut up
- you fucking plank,” Percy said to Quinn. Turning to the one who made the mess he waited for a solution, or at the very least an apology.

“Then get a new
old one,” Tyre said pouring his angry friend some tea.

“Just pop on down to the Costco in Edinburgh there and see if they have some carpets in the Persian aisle,” Percy said angrily dropping sugar cubes in his tea causing it to splash outwards. “Maybe they’ll have a buy one get one free deal,” he said sarcastically. Now stirring his tea angrily he was making Tyre laugh while Quinn made sure Percy wasn’t looking when he did. The gentlemen cleaning the recently departed were still looking for something big enough to put the body in and making Percy even angrier. “For fuck sakes boys the carpet is already buggered. Roll the fucker up
in it,” he yelled.

They
immediately stopped looking for a bag and began rolling the German up in the very old and very expensive rug.

“You don’t even know how old the fucking carpet was,” Tyre said.

“I know it was old enough to be expensive, yeah,” Percy said taking a sip of his tea. “You insensitive prick,” he said relatively calm while shaking his head.

“I think the one in Glasgow is much better Percy,” Quinn said thinking about the Costco suggestion, and then he explained. “Bit of a further drive but a lot more stuff in stock,” he said nodding and looking for agreement.

“Quinn,” Percy said a little surprised.

“Yeah,” he said finally being allowed to get at the tea pot.

“Why are you so fucking dumb?”

“Why you say that?” Quinn asked a little insulted.

“Because dumb, is the best word to describe your level of intelligence,” Percy said serenely. He looked at Tyre who just smiled while enjoying the conversation. He turned back to Quinn who was tilting the teapot more and more, waiting for the tea to come out. Percy shook his head. “Like that tea pot you keep holding up. You know it’s clogged right?”

“You reckon?” Quinn asked looking down the spout.

“No you dumb bastard, its fucking empty. Jesus - Christ,” Percy said looking to the heavens for help. “I have a kettle on the burner, try to fill this pot up without hurting yourself or burning the entire complex to the fucking ground,” he said pointing to the door where the German was being rolled up. Shaking his head he turned back to Tyre. “Look son, I know your mother is Scottish.”

“Yours was British,” Tyre reminded him.

“But our fathers were Vikings,” Percy said sipping his tea trying to find reason. “And I know you don’t like Germans but -”

Tyre intervened showing Percy he understood where he was going
with the conversation. “Historians refer Vikings to Germanic so it makes us German.”

Quinn returned with a fresh pot. Sitting down he poured a cup and placed the pot on the table.

“What’s that?” Percy asked looking at the new teapot on the table.

“It’s a pot of tea,” Quinn replied.

“That’s the pot that was on the burner,” Percy said.

“Aye, so,” Quinn said shrugging.

“Let me see your hand.”

“Why?” Quinn asked again but this time a little embarrassed.

Percy took his hand and with a bit of struggle he looked at it then held it up for show. “Fucking burnt himself,” he said with a sneer displaying Quinn’s hand that was slowly healing itself from the burn.

Tyre chuckled. “I swear, it’s a lucky thing you w
ere born Elemental my son.”

“Why’s that Boss?” Quinn asked
yanking his hand away.

“Because if you were born human you’d be dead, my guess would be shortly after
you learnt to crawl,” he answered looking back at Percy for confirmation.

Percy gave Quinn a quick look over and thought about it for a second. “Crawl right into o
ncoming traffic I reckon,” he said laughing in complete judgment and causing Quinn to lower his eyes into his teacup. Percy turned back to Tyre and continued where their last conversation left off. “Well our fathers were German, we lived there and we fucking spoke it didn’t we.”

“I believe some of the Jews spoke fucking German too, what’s your point?”

“If it quacks like a duck,” Percy said thinking he stated the obvious.

“Now I’m a duck?” Tyre ask
ed looking at Quinn for help, who only shrugged his shoulders bewildered.

“I’m not saying you’re a fucking duck, literally,” Percy said getting a bit upset.

“Then I don’t get it.”

“It’s a
metaphor for fuck sakes,” he said pouring the rest of his tea down his throat.

“Big word,” Tyre said to Quinn.

Quinn grinned. “Must have come to him in the tub when he was playing with his rubber ducky,” he laughed quite proud of himself.

Tyre smiled and held the laughter in as Percy was getting quite upset.

“I actually wish I had a rubber ducky,” Percy said pouring another tea.

“Really,” Tyre said revealing a bigger smile.

“Aye, cause I’d shove it right up your arse,” he said while stirring and giving them both an angry smirk.

Quinn laughed at Percy’s frustration until Percy lo
oked at him. “Sorry Boss,” he apologized but couldn’t hold it all in and let a couple of snorts escape.

Percy turned to his Boss with a discontented grin. “And you’ll be buying
me a new carpet as well,” he informed him as he sipped his tea giving them both a frustrated smile and sealing the deal with a nod.

“What about Marcus
?” Quinn asked while directing the men who now had the German rolled up in the rug. He pointed to the ground telling them without words as to not forget about the heart and blood stain. They nodded that they understood and two of them took the rolled up corpse out of the room while the third got a small bag for the heart.

“Make sure it’s all burned,” Percy told the man picking up the heart.

“Yes sir. I’ll be back to clean the blood up personally.”

“Good boy,” Percy called out as the man chased down the corpse in the rug to make sure the heart was burned with it.

“Who is this Nathanial?” Tyre asked trying to remember why the name seemed vaguely familiar.

“He’s the son of Julius,” Percy said.

“Now Julius I remember,” Tyre said with a sly smile.

Although Quinn was not with them when they had dealings with Julius he heard the stories many times. “I’m sure he remembers you.”

“We ran into the Nathanial kid, back in 1871, or 72 I can’t remember, somewhere in the Arizona territory,” Percy said trying to recall exactly.

Quinn was with them then. “71, we just came down from Illinois after the fire and we were chasing those Mexican fellows,” he said recalling quite well.

“Oh yes, I believe we were all lost,” Tyre said remembering. He poured himself another tea.

“That’s right,”
Percy said passing him the honey. “We were chasing those Mexicans from the north and we thought we would cut them off going over top Humphreys Peak. But we lost’em by the time we got to Chino Valley,” he said like it was only yesterday and then got excited as he remembered more. “By the time we hit the Sonoran desert we didn’t have a clue what happened to them. That’s when we met the kid, you remember,” he said looking at Tyre.

“That’s right. He said he was running from Marcus Crassus and a small army,” Tyre recalled stirring.

Quinn laughed getting in on the story. “Yeah, you said any enemy of that cunt is welcome to sit at our fire and break our bread,” he added.

“And meant it, would of helped him kill him too if we didn’t have to find those Latino gentlemen.”