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Things That Go Bump in the Night: Here There Be Monsters
Things That Go Bump in the Night: Here There Be Monsters
Things That Go Bump in the Night: Here There Be Monsters
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Things That Go Bump in the Night: Here There Be Monsters

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ONE CITY. TWO KILLERS
A serial killer and a supernatural killer terrorise a city. One kills willingly preying on adulterers and the other unknowingly with no memory of being a monster. The city knows about the serial murders committed by the Sin Killer, but unaware of the shape-shifter whose murders are blamed on the Sin Killer. The captain of police is related to one of the killers.
LanguageEnglish
Release dateJul 30, 2021
ISBN9781528974660
Things That Go Bump in the Night: Here There Be Monsters
Author

Wilson Jackson

In 2001 and 2008 he placed in the top 100 twice out 19,000 and 17,000 participants in the Writers' Digest TV/Movie writing competition. He has a song he wrote on You Tube (Ain't Got Time For No Foolishness). Wilson is an alumnus of Johnson C. Smith University where he majored in Communication Arts and is an alumnus of The LongRidge Writers Group. He has written numerous songs and screenplays and where he was born and raised in Sumter, SC, things actually went bump in the night. He collects comics from the mid 60's, 70's and 80's and believes that's when comics were worth reading. He also collects two dollar bills. Wilson lives in Charlotte, NC with his family. --

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    Things That Go Bump in the Night - Wilson Jackson

    Dedication

    To the memory

    of Sharon Elizabeth Jackson

    Copyright Information ©

    Wilson Jackson (2021)

    The right of Wilson Jackson to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by the author in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

    All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

    Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

    This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

    A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

    ISBN 9781528974639 (Paperback)

    ISBN 9781528974660 (ePub e-book)

    www.austinmacauley.com

    First Published (2021)

    Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd

    25 Canada Square

    Canary Wharf

    London

    E14 5LQ

    Acknowledgement

    My thanks to Alfair and Aneita for giving me the vision, talent, and dedication it takes to be a writer.

    Prologue

    Rita Martz was a looker in her day. Just what the doctor ordered to her mostly married customers. But Father Time played no favourites. Her five-feet-three frame had gone from voluptuous to fleshy. Breasts sagged, once smooth buttocks, thighs and legs now trapped in black panty hose to cover up cellulite and varicose veins. A coat of makeup and a wig added illusion to a weathered face. All remained was the talent to give head in order to pay the rent. Rita stuffed the cash inside her bosom as she continued on her way home to a rat and roach infested motel. The moonlight was her guide. She loved the moon. It was her companion on the lonely walk home.

    The chilly air stung her face. A breeze carried stench of sewer and garbage. Rita folded her arms for warmth. The night sky was starless, she moved swiftly down the eroded, cracked sidewalk past abandoned decayed buildings.

    The moon wasn’t chummy, it allowed the night to play tricks on her. She paused and thought she saw her client’s car in the distance. Rita took a double take, and to her delight, it was his car.

    She had regretted not asking him to drop her off at the motel. Now she gleefully had a second chance. Rita moved swiftly toward the car. On her way it got darker, a cloud had eclipsed the moon. She was disturbed, the walk to the car appeared longer than she thought and the howling of the wind made her nervous.

    It didn’t help that the broken-out building windows looked like hallowed eyes watching her every move. She stopped after hearing footsteps coming from behind. She took a deep breath to calm her nerves.

    The cloud finally moved on and Rita was face-to-face with her pursuer.

    Sorry fella, done for the night.

    He held up a fistful of twenties. Rita’s eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas Day.

    Okay. Got time for a quickie.

    Rita led him between two vacated buildings. She kicked trash out of her way; she gave him a moment to gander at her backside. She smiled and pivoted gracefully to a strong hand clamped over her mouth.

    Her head was forced against a brick wall. Dazed and confused, she didn’t put up a fight. She only grunted from several thrusts to her abdomen. At her feet, hamburger wrappers with ketchup stains were now joined by blood. Rita Martz fell to the ground with a look of fear wedged into her eyes. A neatly folded note was shoved near the money in her cleavage.

    The Reluctant Werewolf

    One

    The moon not only shone on city violence, but also on a tent in the middle of a forest located many miles away in Hill County. The moon silhouetted the moving bodies of a man and a woman highlighted by dim lantern light on the tent canvas.

    Jalen Penn and Stacey Gwynn were like wrestlers trying to gain the advantage by willing the other into submission. Sweaty legs, arms, and torso entwined like vines. Eyes and mouths opened and closed expressing heavy breathing of pleasure.

    He kissed her long, soft body. She returned the gesture on his muscular frame. They took turns rolling on top of each other. Jalen ended up on top as the bodies became one. Her legs anchored on his shoulders. He pinned her on the spread-out sleeping bag thrusting out a sigh of relief of his sexual triumph inside her.

    Stacey gripped the side of the sleeping bag. She moaned and groaned till she reached her climax. Jalen fell lifeless like a leaf. Stacey cuddled him, kissing his chin.

    Damn, that was good, said Jalen.

    Stacey smiled caressing his chest. Told you, black people could have fun camping.

    Jalen sat up staring into space and then sighed. Stacey kissed his shoulder.

    What’s wrong, baby? Stacey asked.

    The partnership and Reece Worthington.

    You’re more than qualified. Anyway, didn’t you tell me the partners liked you better?

    Reece is white.

    Playing the race card…

    What do you mean? Jalen asked.

    Wells and Caldwell are black partners at your firm.

    Jalen smiled. You’re really somethin’ you know that?

    That’s why you love me.

    What about you? Jim’s about to retire and you’d be great for that six o’clock news slot.

    That’s a discussion farther down the road.

    Jalen shook his head. You should be the lead anchor for that spot.

    They love me at eleven o’clock.

    Jalen got up and started getting dressed. Where’re you going?

    To answer the call of nature.

    Before Jalen zipped up his jacket, a ring box fell out of the pocket. Stacey sat up, wide eyed, and stared at it.

    Is that what I think it is?

    Bad timing as usual.

    Jalen kneeled down and grabbed the box. He started to stand but instead shifted to one knee. He opened the box revealing a ring. The diamond sparkled in the lantern light.

    Will you marry me?

    Stacey’s eyes grew wider. Her hands opened and closed over her mouth. She was speechless for almost a minute. My God, baby. She touched his lips. Of course, I’ll marry you.

    She held out her hand extending her ring finger. Jalen slipped it on for a perfect fit. He stood smiling, watching her admire the ring.

    Hold that thought till I get back.

    Be sure to go deep into the woods now, Stacey said.

    Hey, don’t forget that night you ate all those baked beans.

    Go on and handle your business.

    Jalen laughed. He grabbed some disposable gloves and stuffed toilet paper in his pocket. He flashed Stacey a smile as she waved him out of the tent.

    The moonlight helped Jalen find a spot in the woods not too far from camp. He dropped his pants and squatted. He waited for the moment of relief. Looking around, he wished he’d brought a flashlight.

    He forgot all about it in the excitement of Stacey accepting his marriage proposal. The forest seemed darker and less friendly. Jalen glanced overhead at the moon that looked like it was trying to hide.

    He shook his head wondering why the body acted the way it did. When he was in the tent, he had to go, and now at the moment of truth, he couldn’t do a damn thing. The cold night air had put goosebumps on his ass.

    What bothered him the most was the eerie silence – no crickets chirping, frogs croaking or owls hooting. It ended with twigs snapping. Jalen stood up forgetting all about using the bathroom. He pulled up his pants and headed back to camp but stopped in his tracks when he heard a low-pitched growl.

    Jalen stood like a statue. He felt a chill creep up his spine. Though curious about the growl, he was too afraid to look around. Hoping whatever it was would go away, Jalen decided to move on. He got unwanted help, and his body was slammed to the ground like a blindsided quarterback.

    He landed on his back. Jalen served up his padded forearm to stop fangs from getting to his neck. Raindrops of hot foamy drool plopped on his face. Jalen gritted his teeth and dug inside his pocket to get his knife.

    He was scared, involved in a real nightmare. The red, glowing, eye-hulking monster was determined to take a bite out of him.

    Fangs finally made it through the jacket. Jalen grim aced, but he managed to get his knife open. He stabbed the beast several times until the final blow hit hard bone forcing it to release him. An eruption of blood splashed on Jalen’s face.

    A chilling howl came from the monster as it vanished into the dark forest.

    Jalen struggled but made it back to camp. He clutched his bloody arm while still holding the knife. Applying pressure made it worse. Instead of holding blood in, more seeped out.

    Stacey, wrapped in a blanket, rushed to him.

    My God! Your arm’s bleeding!

    Need to get to a hospital fast.

    Jalen leaned against the Range Rover. He managed to climb inside the vehicle. Stacey came running back dressed in sweats and carrying a towel. She got in the Rover and wrapped Jalen’s arm. Before the roof light went off, Jalen got a good look at the badly chipped blade of his knife.

    Two

    Arm stitched and bandaged, Jalen leaned against the examining table passing time scanning the room. He was surrounded by counters and cabinets containing jars of tongue depressors, cotton balls, swabs, and Band-Aids.

    A hint of ammonia floated around the room, which made Jalen wonder how Stacey could sleep like a baby. She sat near the door; head tilted, drool on her lap, and a Good Housekeeping magazine on her lap.

    Jalen sighed and shook his head. Waiting was the process of all hospitals he hated most. You sign in, are treated, but you still wait for the doctor. Finally, the doctor returned holding a prescription.

    Here you go – this should take care of the pain. Be sure to follow the instructions, said the doctor.

    Stacey awoke stretching and yawning. She wiped the drool with her sleeve. She got up and stood next to Jalen looking at his prescription. The doctor, bald with a touch of grey mixed in with what hair he had left, waited with them.

    Any questions? he asked.

    Jalen looked at the small, nerdy man. Jalen thought the doctor was probably not a hit in high school, but now a success at class reunions – typical eyeglasses, khakis, brown loafers, and a white coat wearing doctor.

    How long before I get these bandages off?

    At least two to three weeks.

    Jalen nodded. I lucked out, huh, Doc?

    You’re lucky to be alive.

    What do you mean? Stacey asked.

    Guess it’s too late to ask if you folks aren’t from around here. He looked at Jalen’s chart. Uh, huh…

    Stacey gave the doctor a dubious look. What?

    You’re from Crest City, he said, raising an eyebrow.

    Jalen and Stacey looked at each other wondering what the doctor’s point was.

    That’s our home. Is there a problem? Jalen asked.

    Hill County and your city have a lot in common.

    Jalen shook his head. Meaning what?

    When you asked if you lucked out, you were right. You are not the first animal attack to come in here. Just the first not to be DOA.

    Stacey gasped. My God!

    The doctor nodded. Dental records come in handy. Get a lot of John and Jane Doe. All attacks around midnight. Been goin’ on over a month now. Sheriff’s thinking about callin’ the FBI. Where’s Mulder and Scully when you need them?

    Over a month? Stacey asked.

    I know we’re a small country town, but don’t you all read the papers?

    Sports and comics, said Jalen.

    You don’t have some kind of mandatory curfew? Stacey asked.

    The doctor shrugged. You know people…it can’t happen to me until it does.

    Stacey had heard about the murders in Hill County. Her station manager thought it was minor news from a one traffic light country town. She ignored the danger because a co-worker said it was a great escape from the city, and Stacey felt she and Jalen needed to get away for some relaxation.

    Don’t get me wrong, this town is great for camping and fishing, said the doctor.

    We came out here to relax. said Stacey.

    Yeah, but had we known – said Jalen.

    You folks should be used to this sort of thing by now.

    What do you mean? Jalen asked.

    You got that crazy callin’ himself the Sin Killer, slicing and dicing folks up in your fine city, He gave a stern look. Yeah, that’s right. I read more than the sports and funnies.

    All right, Doc. Give it a rest, will ya?

    Stacey squeezed Jalen’s shoulder. Somebody’s gonna have some nice camping equipment.

    The doctor smiled. You can still get your stuff.

    But you said –

    Attacks have been only at night. Soon as day breaks, you should have no problem, but there’s always a first time.

    The ride home was peaceful and quiet. Stacey glanced at Jalen resting his eyes.

    Sorry, said Stacey.

    What?

    I feel responsible for your arm.

    Okay…give me a minute to figure out why I should blame you.

    I knew about the animal attacks in Hill County.

    Say what? You put us in danger for a vacation?

    How was I supposed to know you’d get hurt?

    You heard the doctor. I was the only survivor.

    Was it a wolf?

    It was big and ferocious, and I don’t ever want to see it again.

    Stacey rubbed his thigh. I am so sorry.

    The eyes.

    What about them?

    Red . . . glowing eyes like they were on fire. Penetrated my soul.

    Thank God you got away.

    Good thing I had my knife. Jalen removed it from his pocket, looked it over, and shook his head. Had it since high school. Now look at it. Nothing lasts forever.

    At least we got our camping gear back.

    Hope you know somebody who wants to buy it, ’cause I’m never going camping again.

    Three

    Jalen woke up with the smell of fresh coffee teasing his nostrils. He sat on the edge of the bed inhaling the aroma. He went through his regular morning ritual – yawning, stretching, digging crust out of his eyes, and scratching that morning itch on his chest.

    Jalen rotated his shoulders in his loose-fitting grey T-shirt. He stood up pulling his baggy blue shorts out of his rear. He glanced at the digital clock on the oak nightstand.

    The time was 8:55 a.m., and like the Pied Piper, the coffee scent led him to the kitchen.

    Jalen stood in the doorway watching Stacey pour herself a cup. He knew he was lucky to be with her. Shoulder-length black hair, caramel skin and an hourglass figure. The pink blouse and tan slacks showed off her every curve. No matter what she wore, it all looked good to him. Stacey turned around and saw Jalen standing in the doorway.

    Oh, mornin’, sleepyhead. How long you been awake?

    Long enough to enjoy the view.

    Stacey blushed. Want some coffee?

    That’s what brought me here. He sat down at the wooden rectangle table and saw a nice spread – fluffy scrambled eggs, bacon, sausage links, wheat toast flanked by butter and jelly, and a glass of orange juice.

    You sure are hungry, said Jalen.

    I had grapefruit.

    Jalen saw the remains in the trash can. You expect me to eat all this?

    Eat something. You haven’t eaten since the accident. How’s your arm?

    Jalen gently stroked it. Fine, till you asked. Now it’s itching like crazy.

    Good. That means it’s healing.

    So they say.

    Stacey waited for Jalen to start eating. He grabbed a fork, eyed the food, but like holding a gun, he couldn’t pull the trigger.

    What?

    Just not hungry, babe.

    Stacey grabbed her cell phone and started punching numbers.

    What are you doing?

    You need to see a doctor.

    Hell no! After the bedside manner of that quack in Hill County.

    Stacey ignored him.

    Okay, I’ll do it.

    Stacey stared at him. She sighed and put away her cell. She gave him his coffee, threw her purse over her shoulder, and glared. I’m not kidding.

    I promise.

    All right. Have to get over to the station and prep for tonight. Need me to stop by later and check on you?

    Jalen escorted Stacey through the living room. He opened the door. I’m good, but you know the drill.

    Call you as soon as I get home. She gave him

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