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

  The boy looked at me with crimson eyes and mouthed, “Please…” before falling unconscious. Ulric didn’t let up on his grip.

  I stood horrified looking at the boy with the purple face. My eyes moved passed him and saw the anger grow on Ulric’s face. He closed his fist completely with the boy’s neck still in his hand. The sound reminded me of a head of lettuce being struck with a mallet. Blood started pouring out of the child soldier’s nose, eyes, and ears. His heart beat one last frantic beat, then stopped.

  “Wasteful, insolent fledgling!” Ulric screamed before throwing the boy through the opposite wall with a thunderous boom, and into the tent line. The body rolled rag doll into the nearest tent. Stone tumbled with him.

  Ulric looked at me and said forcefully, “If you do not obey, your parents will never know vengeance. Now, decide!”

  He strode out into the center of the compound and started ripping soldiers apart as they approached, weapons drawn. All I could do was watch, frozen with indecision.

  Ulric manifested two blood-swords from a time long since passed, and began cutting and stabbing those who rushed him. With each thrust, I saw the soldiers blood pass from their bodies into his. Ulric was laughing manically.

  At one point, Ulric stopped mauling and laughing, as he turned and looked at me. The soldiers continued to attack, swords rebounding off his impervious flesh.

  I moved forward, letting my predator self take control. Rather, I just gave up and let go of the reins which PS grabbed with enthusiasm.

  It was a beautiful dance. The soldiers played their part; chaotic and frantic, while Ulric and myself performed with grace and finesse. Blood splattered the ground like paint on a canvas. My hands were my brush, swiping through leather and armor like a scythe through wheat. My teeth pierced flesh as if taking a bite of warm cheese.

  The cool air carried the steam from the mutilated corpses just off the ground. Our bellies were full. My skin tingled with warmth and elation. A shudder rippled through my body as I exhaled, sending a plum of steam through the air.

  Ulric looked at me approvingly. With the prey downed, my predator side contently sauntered aside, letting me reluctantly take control again.

  I fell to my knees, cupping my face with my hands.

  “Oh, do not start now, John. You did so well!” Ulric said, pleading. “You are no longer a puppet to your human emotions. Realize this and cut the strings tying you to mortality. Embrace the freedom of eternity.”

  I let my hands drop to my lap and looked at him. Ultimately, he was right. The longer I fought, the harder it would be. These men were a means to an end. Once the commander was dead at my feet, I would be able to best decide my future with Ulric—damn any promises. This man… this monster would not corrupt my soul. At least, not fully.

  We searched the camp and found only tid-bits of information that could potentially lead us to the commander. Our only recourse was to travel to the next site and hope we found something more substantial.

  “Anything?” Ulric asked as I riffled through papers on a desk.

  “Nothing,” I said, defeated.

  “Then, on to the next camp,” Ulric said triumphantly, and we were on our way.

  Chapter 15

  Now

  I knocked on the door of the house behind the Tanning Salon/Repair Shop. After a few minutes, a porch light came on and Ed sleepily opened the door wearing a sweat stained wife-beater and old, blue and white striped boxers. He already had my keys in his hand and held them out without saying a word.

  “Gracias senior,” I said, severally mispronouncing the words. “Would you happen to know the time?”

  He mumbled with half open eyes “It’s late. Or early. I’m going back to bed.” With that he shut the door and turned off the porch light.

  I made my way around his shop to where my car sat with brand new glass. I would have to get them tinted later. Opening the door, I noticed the broken glass was still everywhere inside. “Guess I didn’t ask him to clean it, did I? But shouldn’t that be a standard?” I asked the wind.

  After I swept most of the glass onto the parking lot (his problem now), I opened the trunk and placed Depweg’s goodie bag inside and climbed in the driver’s seat, pushing the engine start button.

  Taking my eyes off the road for a second, I checked the clock to see that dawn was about thirty minutes away. I snorted angrily and cursed at my lack of time management. There was no time; I was going to have to find a place to sleep for the day, and quick.

  When something like this happens, there are a few alternatives. 1) Dig a hole in the earth and sleep there, but this is messy. You not only have to wash your clothes with a garden hose in the back yard, but dirt is found in crevices for weeks. 2) I could pull into a Wal-Mart or other 24-hour establishment and hide in the trunk. With this, getting towed or broken into could be a real problem, especially if they open the trunk exposing me to sunlight, effectively ending the last of the vampires. Can’t do that option. There’s too much pressure on my shoulders already being the last without the fear of dying and wiping an entire supernatural species off the map in a Wal-Mart parking lot.

  I used to do option one fairly often before Valenta once suggested a hotel after I had dropped ear dirt into my drink and just stared at it, debating on if I should continue to drink or not. After he made his suggestion, I lifted my head slowly with fierce eyes and a clinched jaw and said, “Well, if you wanna take the easy way out, I guess.” I mentally punched myself for never even considering that.

  My time management hadn’t improved over the centuries, so at this point I was a Hilton Diamond Member. I pulled into my closest Home2 Suites by Hilton and checked in right as the beginning rays of dawn were piercing the morning sky. Sun tendrils were already dancing in the sky.

  I was sweating bullets (or would have if I could actually sweat) and had to squint my eyes to see while speaking to the front desk attendant who, thankfully, was approvingly efficient at their job and got me my card key within a few minutes. Though they did keep glancing at my forehead where the glue was surely peeling off by now.

  After she handed me my key, I touched my forehead and said, “Cut myself shaving” before making my way to the elevators and up to my room.

  As I walked in, the sun’s rays were already hitting the top of the room and moving down the walls quickly. I ran over to the window to close the drapes right as the sun snuck through a gap in the tree line, and was hit in the face with the magic cancelling light of morning.

  Movies would have you believe vampires hiss when hurt or threatened. That’s total bullshit. A massive, super manly and not at all a little girl’s scream escaped my throat as I slammed the thick window treatments closed and collapsed on the ground, holding my burnt face.

  After a minute of (not) crying on the floor, the phone started to ring. I opened my eyes to see nothing but black. “SIT!” I cursed with a new speech impediment. “I’n hucking ‘lind!” My fingers explored the sockets to find that my orbs had indeed been melted in the split second they were exposed.

  What remained of my eyes was gooey sludge. My trembling hands explored the rest of the damage; skin and hair were incinerated into dust, leaving behind aching muscles and tendons. Even my upper lip was gone, leaving behind only my pearly whites. “Lilith, damn it,” I said.

  The phone continued to ring, so I felt my way over, using the bed as a guide, to where the nightstand was. I grabbed the receiver, took in a deep breath to control the pain, brought it up to where my ear used to be, and said through lipless teeth, “Hello? Yeth. Oh, thorry a’out tat. ‘it eye ton. Huh? I. Dit. Eye. Tong. Yeth. Eye eye.”

  I placed the phone down, foolishly searching blindly for the receiver. I turned toward one of the two queen beds and let myself fall face down with a sigh of relief. The ground met me instead of nice, soft pillows and a thick blanket. Did I get the single king room instead of the two queens? Yes. Yes, I did.

  “Thuck it,” I said and fell asleep right on the floo
r.

  Chapter 16

  Europe, 1483

  Ulric and I went from camp to camp, gathering any information we could find that would lead me to the commander. They were never ending, across the land and seas. High up in the mountains, and down in the valleys. Deep in the forests, and resting at the edge of the oceans. I lost track of time. It felt like the commander was always one step ahead of us.

  “Why is there never any useful information?” I angrily asked of Ulric.

  “It would appear he is aware of our path and isn’t leaving behind any sufficient clues,” Ulric thought out loud.

  “How is it we don’t even know his name by now?” The frustration was evident in my voice.

  “Commander Godwin,” Ulric said conversationally and without looking at me.

  I paused, not able to quite articulate the unrest I felt at what Ulric had just said so casually.

  “How long have you known?” I asked, narrowing my eyes.

  “Saw it at the last camp, I think. Did I not tell you?” He asked, still blowing this mountain of a revelation off as if he had only forgotten to return a borrowed book or some other menial, everyday toe-step.

  “No. No you did not, Ulric,” I said, anger and annoyance evident in my voice.

  “Well, you know now, do you not?” He responded while turning to meet my gaze. It was stern and unrelenting.

  I decided it was best to let it go. Convincing myself to be satisfied that I had at least learned the bastard’s name. Godwin. I had never hated a name so much in my life, or unlife for that matter. Godwin. Even mouthing it to myself made my blood boil. I wanted to spit on the ground every time the syllables were wordlessly formed by my lips and tongue. On the body-half-full-of-blood way of looking at things; at least I had his name. It powered my resolve and became a beacon for my rage.

  As the nights came and went, I continued to develop my abilities with Ulric as he taught me the ways of the preternatural. I grew stronger with each kill, siphoning the mortal’s life energy into myself. My predator side and consciousness became accustomed to one another and worked out a symbiotic partnership, allowing me to remain in control while listening to its guidance. In turn, it remained next to me, ready to grab a rein at any time, rather than in the carriage by himself. This made me an efficient killing machine but with control enough to not hunt every person in the vicinity once I started feeding.

  I had problems wrapping my head around some of what Ulric taught, such as there being multiple planes of existence where monsters resided. Monsters that could tear even vampires apart like leaves on a tree.

  One of my lessons consisted of controlling the mind of a mortal. We left two soldiers alive after one of our nightly escapades and sat them by a fire.

  Ulric explained that first in order to control the mind, was to learn the brain. This would allow for information harvesting, as well as entertainment, at least for Ulric.

  The soldier closest to Ulric was tied and gagged, sitting in the dirt back to back to another soldier. Tears had cleaned paths down his cheeks and his mouth hung open in a perpetual sob, soaking the cloth in his mouth.

  Ulric dramatically lifted his hand, fingers spread wide and palm open, to the soldier. He yelped and tensed his body in surprise, as if stung by a painful insect, then relaxed with eyes becoming unfocused.

  “Look up,” Ulric commanded.

  The soldier did.

  “Hold up your hands.”

  The soldier lifted his bound hands into the air.

  “Now, void your bowels,” Ulric said with a smile.

  With his hands still in the air, the soldier pushed, straining to the point where his veins popped out in his forehead and neck. His face turned red and eye balls seemed ready to explode. This went on for a full minute before Ulric intervened.

  “What is wrong?” Ulric said, still amused but curious.

  The soldier spoke like he was deep in a dream, “I cannot right now. I was in the privy when everyone started screaming.”

  “Ah,” Ulric said, accepting his answer.

  “Let me try,” I said eagerly.

  “Wait!” Ulric said. But it was too late. I held up my hand and focused my will on the soldier who sat in front of me. I felt an extension of my essence stretch from my hand and envelope his head. He gasped like the first soldier but didn’t relax. Instead, tremors started in his hands and feet, followed by his arms and legs until his core was convulsing. A little at first but quickly grew to violent spasms. His eyes rolled into his head and blood started to pour down the white orbs like an artist who dumped his paint on top of a blank canvas. Little streams of crimson started falling out of his nose and ears, which quickly became raging rivers. The convulsions grew increasingly violent and soon he was kicking up dirt and grass.

  I dropped my hand and released my focus, feeling the essence retract back into me. The soldier stopped convulsing and he reached his bound hands up to his face. He sucked in a long, deep breath, and produced a startling screech that sounded more like a dying animal than a human. His fingers grabbed at his forehead and pressed in. His knuckles went white from the pressure and bright blood began to trickle down where his finger nails pierced his skin. He sucked in another breath and screamed again, this time while slowly clawing at his face. Strips of flesh came with his hands and peeled away like a banana. His bottom eye lids tore away like a ravaged bed sheet flapping in the wind. When he got to his nose, a finger nail caught and ripped a nostril away. His fingers went into his mouth and continued their downward journey, prying teeth from gums and tearing his bottom lip to shreds. Bright blood ran freely from his face onto his clothing, creating a growing pool of rubies that sparkled in the fire light.

  I sat in awe and glanced at Ulric who seemed to be intrigued. He had let his focus fade from his play toy and the soldier was coming to, startled by the inhuman wails. He struggled to arch and turn his head, only see to the back of the soldier. The look of confusion evaporated into terror as he realized his companion was pulling away hands painted in crimson and gore. He cried out and tried to squirm away, prompting Ulric, without taking his eyes off the self-mutilating soldier, to casually put his foot down on the rope that restrained the man’s feet. My wide eyes went back to the decimation happening before me.

  Another breath and his hands went up for more, not satisfied with their progress. This time, his fingers found purchase and pulled the meat from his face; muscle, skin, everything. In its wake, a scarlet skeleton was being born. He pulled past the eyes, nose, and finally the lips. The sound reminded me of slowly peeling an orange. What was left was a screaming skull complete with lidless eyes and exposed teeth coated in flowing blood.

  The man stopped screaming and closed his jaw as he looked right at me; the muscles attaching his upper and lower jaws were the only meat remaining on his entire head. His perfectly round eye balls, out of place amidst the bone, stared at me. Though it was impossible to see any expression, I knew what I saw was pure, unhinged madness.

  He reached his hands up and stuck his thumb, index, and middle fingers around his exposed eye balls. The madman pushed them back deeper into his skull, the blood making it easier to slide between the orbs and socket, until all the knuckles of each finger were submerged completely. The fingers tightened, and he pulled. Tissue snapped under the stress and his eyes came free of their sockets with only meaty cords connecting them inside his skull. He pulled them forward and two loud twangs pierced the night, like bow strings being cut. The soldier held his hands out to me and opened them palm up, revealing his gifts. He started a throaty chuckle which grew in intensity until his naked jaw opened and closed with every laugh. It escalated into hysteria with his head lifting up to the sky.

  “That’s enough,” Ulric said, holding his own hand up to the man, prompting…nothing. Nothing happened. The soldier continued to bark out high pitched laughs that shook his entire body and stretched his jaw to the point that the muscles gave way and snapped apart, leaving a slack-jawed skull
billowing madness.

  Annoyance entwined with anger as Ulric stood and grabbed the top of the man’s head, pushing the laughing skull into the chest cavity with a wet slosh. The sound mixed with that of breaking bones, like kindling before the fire. Red coated hands that were bound and still holding their treasure fell lifeless to the soldier’s lap; the eyes rolled into the dirt and grass. One stopped just at my feet, the iris looking right at me. I lifted my foot and squashed it, unnerved.

  The final sound the man made was a gurgle of escaping air being forced out of his crushed lungs. Then, silence. Only the sound of the remaining soldier whimpering and the crackle of fire were left in the night’s air. A breeze wafted the heavy smell of fresh spilled blood.

  The other soldier whimpered and started rocking back and forth.

  Ulric beckoned for me to sit next to him. As I sat on the log, he said, “I want you to feel what I feel. Put your hand over mine.” His hand stretched out to the soldier who flinched back, and I put my hand on his. I let my essence flow over his hand and then piggy-back as his own went into the soldier’s mind.

  Ulric went slow and controlled, first joining with the soldier’s aura, then gently descending inside his mind.

  “Close your eyes and open your mind,” Ulric said to me. I did as he instructed and closed my eyes. I took in a breath, concentrated, and opened my mind. We were standing behind the scenes of the camp fire. The wind blew through the trees at a fraction of its normal pace. Everything seemed darker. Looking down, I could see that Ulric, the soldier, and myself were all ghostly outlines, as if we were made of mist. My eyes followed the mist as it left our hands and swirled around the soldier’s head. In it, tendrils snaked into his skull from all angles.

  “Follow them, John,” Ulric said through the dream.

  I let myself soar over our hands and down the mist until I reached the first tendril. I willed myself into it and was taken to a scene of the soldier—his name was Adam—sitting in a tree with a young woman named Beth. As their lips touched, Adam knew that he loved her and knew they were destined to spend their lives together.