I’m Glad You’re Dead (The Preternatural Chronicles Book 1) Read online

  I was stunned by the question. Though it was a blatant lie, I looked her in the eyes and said, “Yes, my child. I am an angel, here to save you. Now, close your eyes.”

  As she did, I ran to the street and yelled at the gathered group while pointing down the alley, “There’s a child here!”

  The group of people, who must have all lived here, rushed to the alley. They ran past me without a second look and toward the child. The mother led the pack. A different cry filled the alley; one of joy and unimaginable relief.

  For the first time, in a long, long time, I felt peace bloom in my heart. A smile forced its way onto my face and I didn’t fight it.

  After searching for the rest of the night, and returning to the bridge to make sure puppy was doing well, dawn was approaching again.

  Before I returned to my shallow grave, I picked up the puppy and traveled to where survivors were being held. A quick walk around the perimeter of the room and I located the little girl who was asleep next to her mother. I walked up, leaned down, and put her new best friend in her cradled arms. Tired eyes opened and spotted the bundle of adorableness. A tiny gasp left her non-blistered mouth and she embraced the puppy. Eyes already wide, they flicked up to me and grew impossibly large with delight.

  “You’re the angel,” she whispered.

  I nodded while smiling and caressing her hair, astonished with how my blood had healed her. In my mind I noted that Ulric had made me drink his blood in order to become what I am. Good trick to know.

  “Will you promise to take care of him?” I asked.

  The little girl nodded enthusiastically while bringing the puppy up for a kiss on the head.

  I left them like that, embraced in happiness that only a child and a new puppy could have.

  Climbing into my hole next to Ulric, I looked over at his mound and wondered what the future would hold without my maker and guide. My parent’s killer was long dead. I briefly entertained the notion of draining his descendants, but thought better of it. The son would not be punished for his father’s crimes. I could sleep, but that would only delay the inevitable.

  The little girl with her puppy flashed through my mind and how good I had felt. I had saved them both and could have easily perished. No one would ever know except for her, and that was enough.

  That’s what I would do; I would exist to help those in need. Perhaps I would spare another family my fate. Lowering the dirt onto me, I had to remind myself that I was smiling before earth went into my mouth.

  Chapter 21

  Now

  The pain was immediate and blinding. White hot sheets of lightening shot through every limb in waves with each crushing chew. The breath was squeezed out of me. The bleeding began, and I was sure I would die from losing my precious blood energy before I even met his stomach. The only reason I wasn’t dead already was because my head was at the back of his throat and the body armor Depweg gave me prevented my upper torso from being punctured.

  An idea hit me, and I willed all the surrounding blood to form a protective barrier around me, solidifying into plates of blood-armor. This gave me a valuable few seconds to gain my bearings. I grabbed at the creature’s uvula and pulled myself down his throat. As I did, I forced my blood-armor to grow into spikes, lodging them in every direction in his esophagus.

  The beast started gaging and tried to reach its fat stumpy fingers down its gullet, then started clawing at its own throat. Tearing chunks of flesh as it did. I started wriggling my body, turning it slowly, cutting its tender flesh as I did. It tried to scream, clawing even more fiercely at its neck.

  Finally, it tore through and grabbed one of my feet, yanking me backwards, taking even more of the throat with me as I went.

  As he pulled me through, I let the shield drop and sucked as much of the blood back in that had energy left as I could, letting the rest drop. I then reached at my lower back and pulled out my Glock and kept my hand hidden until the time was right.

  The creature pulled me upside down up to his eye level while his other hand grasped his throat. The anger was clearly written all over his face. Though he couldn’t speak, his intentions were clear. No more playing around, he was going to end it now.

  He let go of his neck with his other hand and started reaching for me, ready to tear me in half. I pulled my hand around, aimed the Glock right at one of his sunken fire eyes, and pulled the trigger.

  I saw it all in slow motion: there was an explosion out the front of the barrel with white smoke and yellow flames, then the bullet was released. The slide was thrown back and my hand recoiled. The iron and silver infused round flew through the air directly at the fire of the eye, and smashed through it, extinguishing the flame like a candle being blown out with a leaf blower. The bullet expanded on impact, the iron and silver pellets bounced around inside the demon’s head, ripping its brain apart.

  Its grip loosened on my leg and I dropped to the ground, doing an awesome flip in midair and landing on my feet. The monster dropped on top of me.

  After several seconds of struggling, I was able to slide out from under the thing. I stood, patted the dust off my tattered clothes, and then looked at my handiwork.

  The other eye was still alight, though barely flickering. I pointed the Glock at the eye and said “Hasta la vista, baby.”

  Anti-climatically, the light extinguished, and the body started to become wet. The skin turned transparent and the mass started falling in on itself, turning back into ectoplasm. It reminded me of the end of Gremlins 2. I almost expected the thing to start gurgling out ‘New York, New York…’

  But it didn’t. It dissolved away into nothingness as the ectoplasm was returned to the nether, leaving behind a trail of destruction and dead bodies. I holstered the Glock at the small of my back and took in a deep breath of relief.

  A voice called out “Jonathan, I thought I told you to stay out of it.”

  I turned around, trying to locate the voice.

  “I warned you blood bag. Now you’ll pay!”

  The source was coming from on top of a nearby, three story building.

  “What’s up, Hufflepuff? Get out of potions class early?” I taunted Locke. “Where are your hired goons?”

  As soon as I asked, giant lunch box hands grabbed me from behind and I was pulled in tight against a brick wall of a chest. The other goon walked out from the shadows and stood in front of us, fists clinched.

  “Fellas,” I said, “don’t make me blow my rape whistle!”

  At that, the fisticuff goon pulled back for a power punch to my torso. I let him. His hand hit the iron infused Kevlar and shattered the bones of his hand into dust. He recoiled with a look of disbelief.

  With my right hand, I reached behind, grabbed the gun and pointed it at the crotch of the hired muscle holding me in place. Like magic, his grip loosened the second after I pulled the trigger as my opponent let a whispering moan escape his lips.

  I slipped through his loosened grip and stuck the gun in his face, squeezing the trigger at point blank. He blinked as the back of his head exploded while only a dribble of blood leaked out the dime sized hole in his forehead. He collapsed to the ground.

  I turned and shot the other goon in the heart and watched the life dwindle in his eyes. I felt no remorse or pity for taking their pathetic lives. They chose the path of evil and paid for their decisions. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.

  Sirens wailed in the background, snapping me back to the present. I looked up and saw a group of SWAT cops making their way down the street. They had spotted me, covered in blood, holding a Glock, and standing in the middle of the devastation as well as having just executed two men right in front of them.

  I put my hands in the air and called out “Guys, this isn’t what it looks like!” I forgot the gun was still in my hand and they didn’t appreciate my slight oversight.

  They opened fire. I stood there, flabbergasted, as bullets ricocheted off my skin.

  “Really?” I asked. “What about hi
m?” I pointed at the now empty roof where Locke had just been.

  They stopped shooting and looked at each other in amazement as their bullets had no impact. One of them adjusted their body cam on his chest to get a clear view of me.

  “Oh, shit!” I said to myself, and bounded down the street away from them. It didn’t hit me until after that I probably shouldn’t have gone mock supe while being filmed.

  In due time, I made it back to my hidey hole and descended the stairs to catch Da watching South Park on an iPad.

  In my best Jack Nicholson voice, I said “Honey, you’ll never believe what happened to me today.”

  Chapter 22

  Germany, 1945

  I retracted my blood-knife from the liver of my latest SS Officer, careful to not get blood on his sexy black leather trench coat. Excuse me, my sexy black leather trench coat. His drained body collapsed to the snow, cheeks sunken and eyes rolled back in his head, exposing only the whites.

  Sliding the coat off his body, I slung it across my back and inserted my arms. My fingers expanded as they passed through the sleeves in a gesture of victory. A tiny aura of steam emanated from my warmed skin. I took in a breath and exhaled, marveling at the torrent of vapor that rushed out. It was one of my favorite party tricks.

  The long coat flapped in the frigid breeze as I twirled around, careful to not trip over the plethora of bodies around me. After having their bodies drained of the warm blood, the snow was already adhering to their faces, blurring the features of the men. I continued to dance to the music in my mind, feeling the rush of power and elation flood over me. I may have giggled once or twice in my blood induced delirium.

  After a few more minutes of unabridged delight, I focused and brought myself back down to reality, though a much more enjoyable one.

  I gave myself a once over and removed the medals, sleeve, and anything else that identified the wearer as a Nazi.

  “Wonder how long you’ll last, Mr. Coat,” I asked while running my fingers down the fine leather. I felt the ridges and appreciated the craftsmanship involved.

  An unfamiliar smell snatched my attention and PS immediately sprang to attention. It was blood, but something was wrong with it. The aroma of metal intermixed with something… powerful. I closed my eyes and sniffed the freezing air, trying to get a fix on the location. A fresh gust of wind brought an intense concentration and my head turned into the wind. Predator eyes opened and sought a heat signature.

  Going against the wind, I quickly crept through the snow with my head on a swivel. With each gust, the scent grew fresher. Whatever I was hunting was hurt, and I had to restrain PS from completely taking over. The blood was intoxicating and not like any I had ever smelled before.

  Dense snow started falling with a relentless vendetta against the ground, threatening to swallow the world. Fierce winds ripped through the trees, tugging at my new trench coat while teasing my nose with this alluring aroma. My hair was whipped relentlessly behind me; I could feel the strands slap my ears at random intervals.

  In the distance, my preter eyes saw as a red blur came into view. Still in predatory mode, I crouched down and started crawling on all fours, using the trees and growing snowbanks as cover. As I neared, the blur focused into a man who was sitting against a tree. He had something in his hands and was lifting it to his mouth every few seconds. I could see him breathing heavily from the steam that escaped his mouth and nose.

  Charting a path, I started circling around the perimeter, trying to remain out of sight. The wind started blowing against my back, threatening to lift my coat and wave it like a warning flag.

  The man stopped moving and his head shifted toward where I hid behind a fallen log; he appeared to sniff the air. I closed my eyes and listened from where I hid. It was tough to make out any sound through the raging winds. Opening my eyes again, I slowly lifted my head and was met with scowling eyes a few inches in front of mine. A tiny yelp of surprise escaped my lips as I fell backwards into the thick snow. A large man stood straight up with a puzzled look on his face. He sniffed the air again while keeping his gaze locked on me.

  The goliath of a man was covered in deep slashes that had cut through clothing and skin. Blood leaked out of the fresh wounds, staining what was left of his shirt and pants.

  “What are you?” The huge man asked in German. My eyes flicked to his hands and I froze in place. He was holding an arm that had been torn off at the elbow. Ribbons of flesh and tubes of veins hung out; but that wasn’t what caught me off guard. There were obvious bite marks in the flesh of the forearm with chunks of meat missing. With an open mouth, my gaze shifted back to the face of the man who had a vast ring of maroon around his lips. Some dripped down his chin and into the white snow, staining it crimson where it hit.

  “What am I?” I began with an uncertain voice. “What are you?”

  In response, the lumbering figure kicked the fallen log that separated us. With pure instinct, I kicked my feet at the ground and flipped backwards into the air, letting the log fly under me. Landing on my feet, I let PS take the wheel and prepared for a fight with my unknown opponent.

  My fangs grew, and I hissed a warning at the cannibal in front of me.

  “Vampire!” He cried while still speaking German. Letting go of his lunch, my knowledgeable friend reached for his belt to a long blade inside a sheath. I chuckled to myself and let him pull the weapon, knowing no mortal blade could pierce my skin.

  A feeling of uncertainty built inside me, washing away my smirk, as the metal cleared the leather sheath — It hummed with unseen power, causing PS to squirm in my mind.

  Kicking up snow toward my attacker’s face, I lunged with an overhand right and landed a solid blow to his solar plexus, sending him tumbling several yards. A cry of victory bellowed from my core which quickly morphed into one of intense pain. My fist, which was still in front of me, quickly retracted to just above my neck in instinct. Fresh, steaming blood coated my fingers as I lifted my hand to my face. I could feel warmth spread down my neck and into my new coat. My eyes grew wide and my brow furrowed at the realization that he had actually fucking cut me, and deep. Fingers trembled, and my breath came in ragged bursts.

  A war cry pulled me out of my daze and I looked straight ahead to see the man charging, his bloody weapon poised and ready to taste more of my blood. He should be dead. No mortal could have survived an attack of that magnitude.

  I threw my hand out aimed at the rushing man, sending a dagger attached to a blood-chain from my palm. The supernatural man dodged my impossibly nimble attack forcing me to pull the blade back with a snap. As it flew back toward me, the blade barely nicked the giant shoulders that protruded out through a stressed shirt. No blood emerged.

  [Shit!] I said to PS. [His skin is tough like ours!]

  The man continued his charge. I was vaguely aware of blood reaching my waist. He slashed the air at stomach level and I leapt backwards several yards, sliding in the snow to a stop. A curse snuck out between gritted teeth as I couldn’t force my wound to close. Precious blood continued to seep out at an alarming rate.

  Now I was pissed. I threw the blade with enough force to create a shockwave and the beast of a man deflected it with the side of his glinting blade. As it came into contact with my blood-manifestation, power was evaporated where it touched. This stunned me for a moment, but the feeling of self-preservation kept me focused. Plus, he had only taken a fraction of my power.

  Willing the weapon back into my palm, I strode over to an adolescent sapling and ripped the trunk from the frozen ground. It was about a foot in circumference and perhaps fifteen feet tall.

  Letting the attacker draw closer, I lifted the tree until I was holding the roots and then swung with all the might of a pissed off vampire.

  It hit home, and the man went flying, the tree breaking on impact. His blade tumbled to the ground and I walked over to where it lay and inspected it. Reaching down, I lifted the weapon by the handle to my face. It hummed loudly to my ea
rs and promised unyielding pain should it bite me again.

  “Silver…” I said to myself. Shifting focus from the weapon, I leapt to where the man had fallen. He was attempting to right himself when I landed in the snow in front of him, the blade pressed to his throat.

  “Do it,” the man said in English, his eyes meeting mine. From my peripheral I could see the man’s left arm was broken where the tree had impacted. His wounds still oozed on his torso.

  “How did you know I spoke English?” I asked.

  Wincing, the man said, “Heard you say silver.”

  “You heard me whisper from way over here?” I asked, not believing.

  He nodded weakly. I noted his skin was losing color.

  “What are you?” I asked.

  “A werwolf,” he responded.

  “You mean, a werewolf?” I corrected, using the English phrase.

  “No,” he said, “I’m German. We prefer werwolf.” I noticed he had emphasized the first “w” as a “v” sound, but not the second.

  “Very well, Mr. Wolf,” I said as I extended my hand out to him. I was taken aback when he took it without hesitation.

  “Why did you attack me?” I asked.

  “Thought you were a Nazi,” he said. “That, and you smelled… off.”

  “Seems reasonable, Mr. Wolf. I am, in fact, not a Nazi. I just like their coats.”

  “Please, call me Depweg,” he said, a smile forcing its way on his pain-stricken face.

  “John,” I said, sticking my hand out for a proper shake. He grabbed my forearm, Viking style, and we shook. I wondered at that moment how old he was.

  Chapter 23

  Now

  “Ok seriously, when the hell did we get an iPad?” I asked