Moonlit Massacres

By Joey Peters

Max knows he has a monster deep inside himself. He can control it most of the time—fight the depraved and nightmarish hungers—but on the night of the full moon he can't help but give in to his dark desires and he is consumed by his lycanthropic nature.

After assaulting the home of a drug lord Max discovers that he's not the only monster out there. Soon, Max is pulled into a gang war between a vampire and a mysterious sorcerer. They try to use his best friend Rose as leverage—but she has a secret of her own.

Can Max and Rose calm the discordant devils inside themselves?

Can they quiet the conflict between Iron Vlad and Doctor Limba before it boils over?

Or will they be consumed  by their bestial desires and live a life of moonlit massacres?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Studio Tacolicious
• Release date: Jan 13, 2014
• ISBN: 9781498944090

Joey Peters

Joey Peters is a writer, cartoonist and beauty contest champion. His comics have appeared in “In a Single Bound”, “Leftovers of the Living Dead”, the Boston Phoenix, and all across the internet. He is probably most well known for his reimaginings of public domain superheroes, most particularly Stardust the Super-Wizard. His other prose works include the “Starship Victory” series and “Moonlit Massacres”. Joey lives in Boston with his wife, Donna.

Book preview

Book I

Chapter One

Max

The moon mocked me from below the horizon. I couldn't see it, I'd been cowering in this dumpster for days and I couldn't break my cover, not yet. But I felt the moon smoldering with it's electric presence.

The estate around me had been raided three times in the last two years by the police. The owner, Eddie Heinz, he was a clever breed of monster so charges never materialized.

And truth be told, I couldn't be sure. But the moon was coming. I had just enough time to prepare.

With every passing moment the overwhelming stench of the garbage surrounding me grew stronger and stronger. My nose burned. It's perception grew stronger with every heart beat.

Eddie Heinz. I focused myself on him as best I could. I imagined a picture I culled from a newspaper's website. Him. He was a criminal. A monster.

A twelve-foot brick wall surrounded the compound on all sides. That's plenty to dissuade the average drug dealer trying to move up in the world, but my Shadow Self could jump it with ease, if only I could keep it focused.

The month before, at the apex of my last cycle I came here, but he had so many guards. And they were so nervous. I couldn't get close until the last minute—and then it would be too late. I couldn't be sure that I'd control my Shadow Self.

I had to come up with a way to remain hidden at least until moon-rise.

I dressed in rags I purchased at the Good Will and buried them in a ditch. I shambled up to the dumpster at three AM two days after garbage day. Whenever somebody would come to dump off another garbage bag I'd hide under the bags that were already there.

The full moon cried to me. Her siren's call gripped my mind. I pushed the dumpster open. I reached my hand into the light she cast. The bones hiding inside snapped and twisted. Hair blossomed. My body burned with magical fire and once it had spent me down to embers I wasn't the person I am the rest of a month.

I was a wolf.

My Shadow Self smelled the air. It sifted through the nearby scents. A woman's scent was by far the strongest, probably Mrs. Heinz, followed closely by a man's scent. The other people it could smell were weaker, about six different men, the only one of any particular note had spent the last month swimming in Old Spice.

Would seven people be enough to satiate the wolf's hunger? It had to be. The wolf smelled the families eating dinner, married couples watching reality TV, children out past their curfews playing at the nearby parks, it smelled the rest of the people in the neighborhood.

I mustered up all the resistance I could. Most of the people in that house deserved the wolf's hungry jaws. The rest of the neighborhood didn't. At least not directly. Seven people with police records longer than the Massachusetts Turnpike. Seven people who wouldn't be missed.

The wolf vaulted up over the dumpster and jumped the brick wall.

One of the men said, What was that? It sounded like some kind of wild animal.

Another said, This is the one part of town that ain't plagued with all those coyote attacks. Its probably some cat chasing a bird.

Then you go check it out.

I didn't hear anything.

I'm gonna get my gun, the first guard said.

The wolf smelled him walking up to the front door. It cowered under the nearby bushes and waited. The man poked his head out the front door and looked left and right. He sighed and squeezed himself through the front door and charged for the front gate.

The wolf pounced on him. It soared through the air, taking him from behind. The wolf dug his fangs into the back of the guard's neck and tore his spine free. Blood spurted out over us and the ground.

The man he'd been talking to looked through the peephole and saw us, the wolf I'm trapped inside, and what was left of his friend.

My Shadow Self flung the man's corpse at the front door. The impact shattered many of his remaining bones, not that that mattered. Blood shot out like like a shattered wine bottle.

What the fuck was that? another man yelled from the other side of the house.

Some fucking rabid animal just tore Barry apart, the other guard replied.

You can't be serious, by now the man on the other side of the house sounded closer, Is that blood?

The first man said, He's all over the front door.

A couple kids in my neighborhood got ripped apart by coyotes last month. Where the fuck is animal control? What the hell is this?

I'm calling nine-one-one.

The wolf skulked around the house, staying low and below the windows. The three guards assembled just inside the front door. 

Where'd that dog thing go?

Someone said, What the fuck is going on down there? in a thick Eastern European accent.

Some wild-fucking-animal—

The wolf dove into one of the windows. The wolf bounced away from its first impact. The pane of glass was firmly reinforced. But the wolf slammed itself into the window again and again and after the third impact the window frame gave way. The glass slid down and skidded into the living room. It pushed an entertainment center over and a fifty-inch TV shattered.

The guys downstairs, the wolf could now see three of them clearly, cowered and ran for the stairs. The Easter European guy walked past them.

He spun his neck around and screamed up the stairs, Barricade the fucking door, Eddie. We got some trouble down here.

The wolf stepped up toward them slowly.

The Eastern European guy was one one who wore too much aftershave, and on closer inspection he was trying to cover up his fish-market body odor.

One of the men grabbed the Eastern European guy and said, Don't get near that fucking thing, Vlad. It ripped Barry in half.

Vlad... so that was Iron Vlad. Yes. He had a reputation.

He said, You fucks are afraid of this mangy dog?

The guys stepped backward into the dining room while Iron Vlad stared into the wolf's eyes. His irises were a couple shades lighter than silver.

The wolf charged past him and toward the men in the dining room. One of the them hurled a chair at it. A chair leg caught the wolf's shoulder at a strange angle and sliced a hulk of flesh out of it. A tiny bit of blood trickled out, but before it could bleed much the wound sealed back up.

Holy shit! Did you— a guard began, but the wolf cut him off by tearing his arm off. He choked and spat and tried to stay upright, but the shock knocked him out after a few seconds. His blood pooled under him.

Another one grabbed a dinner knife. He swung wildly, stabbing the wolf's neck, just to the side of our spine. The wolf pushed toward him, digging the knife in deeper, slicing flesh free from its throat and shoulder. The man grabbed another knife, but the wolf didn't give him another chance. It swung its jaws up and clasped them around his side. It pulled the flesh free from his torso. The man's intestines spilled out onto the floor.

The last man began running toward the front door. The wolf followed him. He pushed the front door open and ran through. His foot slipped on the blood and he tumbled forward into the ground. The wolf grabbed him by one leg and dragged him back into the house. It pulled the front door closed again with it's snout and the last man tried to crawl into the living room. The wolf pulled the sputtering remnants of the television down on him.

Blood trickled out of his many wounds. The wolf stepped on top of him and ripped out his throat.

Somebody stepped slowly down the stairs. He stared at the mess in the living room, puzzled. He didn't even move when the wolf pounced on him. It opened its massive jaws and placed them around the lieutenant's head.

He snapped out of his stupor and flung his hands around, desperate for a weapon. He grabbed a cast iron fire poker and stabbed the wolf in the chest.

The wolf growled and pushed it deeper into itself. My Shadow Self waited for him to act again.

He muttered, My father, who—

The wolf slowly closed his jaws. The man's skull crumpled. Bone splinters pushed into his brain and his skin tore apart, drizzling the mess into the wolf's mouth.

Something slashed into the wolf's back. A massive tuft of fur and the flesh attached to it slid off. Blood trickled from the wound, but the wolf barely noticed. The skin grew back in.

Color me surprised. I didn't think werewolves could be real too.

The wolf slowly turned around.

Vlad wasn't afraid. He swung an ax at the wolf again, this time hitting its neck and taking another massive swath of flesh with it.

It pounced on him, wrapping its massive fangs around Vlad's throat. The wolf tore everything out. Blood poured out of his jugular vein and carotid artery, bubbling and gurgling around in his shattered esophagus. Vlad's eyes rolled into the back of his head. He couldn't possibly survive.

The wolf crept up the stairs as slowly and carefully as he could. The boards creaked under his paws. Two voices muttered above.

The wolf recognized the voice of its main course.

Get in the closet. Maybe it won't find you.

All of the doors on the top floor were open except for one. The wolf could smell Eddie Heinz and his blushing bride on the other side, but first it wanted to have a little fun.

It growled and crept into the other rooms. First it entered a guest bedroom. It toppled an entertainment center, smashing a mere thirty-six inch television on the carpeted floor. Next the wolf crept into the bathroom. It smashed the sliding door on the shower. The wolf continued on to the other two guest bedrooms and smashed an end table and tore a mattress off of its bed and ripped it apart in the hallway.

Sirens blared a few blocks away.

Finally, the wolf inched up to the master bedroom's door. It slammed its jaw into the barrier. The impact tore the hinge free from the wall and the door tumbled backward, rolling over the wolf's back.

A bureau blocked the entrance to the bedroom.

What the fuck was that? Eddie Heinz asked.

The wolf pushed the bureau to the floor with its paws. The wood shattered under the wolf's weight. Heinz cowered in the back corner.

The wolf inched toward him, hissing. It grabbed Eddie Heinz' thigh with his maw and tore flesh free. He refused to scream. The wolf tore him apart bit by bit. His breathing grew shallower and shallower, weaker and weaker.

Finally, as the wolf tore the lowest part off his torso he moaned, Gracie, run.

She charged out of the tiny closet and ran across the room. The wolf licked its fangs clean. She stepped over the smashed bureau and turned her head just a little too much. She saw what was left of her husband and lost her footing. She tumbled onto the bedroom door.

You're not done with Eddie, I told my Shadow Self, but he wasn't listening. Avenging angel. Vigilante. Me, the wolf and I, we're a monster, I can't deny that, but we should be hunting the worse monsters. Just a little bit of control.

It's what's kept me sane these last few months.

And I've been digging. I couldn't prove she knew her husband was a drug dealer. His cover story was antique importer and who would want to believe their spouse is a monster? The worst crime she ever committed was when she parked in a handicapped space at the grocery store two years ago.

I've checked.

Police sirens rang out closer to the house.

The wolf raised his head away from his current victim and looked at the wife. She whined and screamed incoherently. Her fear fed something primal in the wolf's very core. Something monstrous. Eddie Heinz' dour resolution to deny the wolf any pleasure in essence delivered his more or less innocent wife into the wolf's hungry jaws.

It needed her fear. The monster inside me craved and hungered for it.

She dragged herself out of the bedroom and toward the stairway.

The wolf wouldn't be denied his meal. He pounced on the drug dealer's wife, tearing one arm free from its socket. Blood oozed out of her bite wound and she wailed

Her weak sobs begged for mercy.

The wolf tore strips of flesh away from her shoulder leading to her fractured arm. The wolf dug its fangs into her other arm and pulled it free from her body.

Holy fucking god. We got another one, a voice said below, Call in the fucking cavalry. We got another one of those friggin' rabid coyotes.

The cops were already here. The wolf panicked for long enough that I wrestled control away from him again.

More sirens blared in the distance. The police' backup would soon arrive. They weren't much of a threat. Their bullets wouldn't do anything against the wolf, but if they witnessed the wolf's regeneration? What if they figured out our true nature? And besides, what right did we have to devour the police?

But my Shadow Self argued, what right does the wolf to devour anybody? Why should we care what who ends up on the business end of our fangs?

No!

A SWAT officer in full body armor stared at the wolf.

Did that wolf just say—

I turned around and dove out the bedroom window.

* * *

Iron Vlad

I couldn't move. Couldn't see. Something jerked my body up and down, side to side. Two men were talking over me.

He's lost a lot of blood, but his vitals are weak but stable.

Am I reading that right? He shouldn't be alive.

Look at his blood pressure and temperature. He should be beyond dead, but he's still breathing. His heart's still pumping.

There's no way that's going to last very long.

* * *

Rose

I'd spent my night after work watching a bad fan-sub of Gurren Lagann (that was still better than the official dub) and it was just before sunrise. I pulled the curtains tightly over my windows so that I could block out even the tiniest ray of sunlight. I laid in bed. Even though all I had done all night was watch cartoons, my body was weak and spent. It took all of ten seconds to fall into my standard dreamless sleep.

The door buzzer rang out through my apartment.

Who the hell was that? Even Jehovah's Witnesses don't get up this early.

The sound jarred me to full wakefulness. I ran over to the buzzer and pressed the speaker button.

Who the hell is this? I asked.

The weak, sobbing voice that replied sounded like my friend Max, but I couldn't make out any distinct words. I ran downstairs and swung the door open. Max laid in the front porch curled up in a heap, covered in his coarse, black hair, splattered with blood and nothing else.

What happened? I said.

We did bad things, nasty things, Max croaked, sounding hollow.

Are you alright?

Me? I'm fine, its the other people...

Stay here, I said.

I ran back up to my apartment and pulled a towel off the rack. I wrapped it around him and dragged him up the stairs. I lead him to the living room and dumped him on the couch.

He said, I wish I wasn't a monster, but I can't help it. Can't help what I am.

Not so loud, I said, Now tell me how the hell you ended up on my doorstep naked and covered in blood.

We ate her—tore her apart. We ate a lot of people, but most of them deserved it. I did research.

I didn't eat anybody. What the hell are you talking about? I said.

Not you and me. I'm talking about me and my Shadow Self.

I said, You're not making any sense. I'm going to call nine-one-one.

No! he said, They'll know I did it. I can't deal with the police right now. Not until later.

Can you please at least tell me what the hell happened.

He said, You wouldn't believe me.

Please?

He stared at me for a long moment then rolled himself up in my towel and cowered on the couch, panting and wheezing. He sounded like a dying dog.

I walked into the kitchen. Maybe breakfast would calm him down. I broke two eggs into a pan and scrambled them with a spatula, then cranked it down to low heat and threw a piece of steak on for myself.

Once finished I plopped Max's breakfast on the end-table next to the couch and gnawed on my steak. Max stared at the breakfast I prepared without moving.

I turned the TV on and cranked it over to the local news.

—area businessman Eddie Heinz, said the news anchor.

Max perked up.

"Just after sunset an unidentified animal burst through a window of the Heinz estate and attacked the people inside. Details are still sketchy, however one person was seen being loaded into an ambulance. Witnesses reported a large, feral dog fleeing the scene and animal control has been contacted. This