November
Late at night, a house party was going on, and the neighbors were not pleased.
Loud music pulsed, screams and whoops echoed, and Mr. Horton a few houses down swore he saw a two-headed man enter the house while he was smoking out on his front porch.
Strobe lights danced from the inside of the blue family starter home, and Carlos, the man who avoided conflict, did not have the strength to tell his guests that they needed to quiet down, or else the police would come, and then a party would turn into a massacre.
Carlos much preferred the party, the screaming, the terrible dancing in his living room, and the couch pushed up to the wall than the awkward air in the house after Gabriel and Savannah had fought, and then refused to talk to each other for about a week, which was an amazing feat in a house of only three.
Pushing a scaly man to the side, Carlos opened his front door to see Mr. Horton, vape stick in hand, shaking where he stood while he clutched his metallic cane. Carlos was afraid of Mr. Horton, because once he had seen him pull out the top of his cane, and a sword came out when one of the neighbors insinuated the octogenarian had stolen his mail.
“Hello Mr. Alvarez,” Mr. Horton said. “I see you’re having fun. ”
“I’ve told them to quiet down-”
“I’m calling the police if none of them stop,” Mr. Horton stated. “I came to tell you in person because I respect you.”
Before he could answer Mr. Horton hobbled off, back to his house, and Carlos shut the door, pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed.
A simple meeting had turned into something much more ridiculous.
In an attempt to find a cure, Gabriel and Savannah made a website, stating that they were inviting anyone who was a creature of the night. It was under the radar, until someone found it, and emailed it to a friend, who found it hilarious.
That person forwarded it to all their coworkers, and then it ended up on BookFace, and now people, supernatural or otherwise were at his house when it was meant to be a small get-together, of like-minded monsters who wanted to change their villainous ways.
Carlos pushed through the crowd of people filling up his house and went upstairs to find Gabriel who was talking to a girl who pretended to be a vampire, with red-eye contacts, and thought Gabriel was pretending as well, so well, and she was impressed.
“Gabriel, we need to at least make the meat-, uh, people leave,” Carlos said. “The cops are coming.”
“That’s not good, meat- I mean, people could get hurt,” he replied.
The girl pointed at both of them and said, “So like, why are almost half of the people at this party referring to people as meatsuits? I know you two keep doing it.”
They stared at her. Then Carlos and Gabriel stared at each other.
“Get out of my house,” Carlos whispered. “ Get out. ”
The girl scoffed and left, red solo cup in hand, and flourished her cheap vampire cape in a dramatic exit. Gabriel was impressed that Carlos was finally growing a spine, but he always did something when he had no other choice.
“How can I get them out of my house,” Carlos asked him.
“I have an idea,” Gabriel replied. “It’s a little weird but it might work.”
Gabriel found Momo sitting on the torn-up couch pushed up next to a wall, being pestered by a man a fourth of her age, yelling so loud, that somehow his voice could be heard over the music.
“I need you to get the meatsuits to leave,” Gabriel said.
Momo lifted up her sunglasses, and smiled, flashing her fangs. Her shirt said, I Lick And Suck, a cartoon mouth with fangs on it, and everyone had been complimenting her on it all night.
“I want to hear you beg for it,” Momo giggled.
The man on the couch that sat next to her crossed his legs and coughed uncomfortably.
“Momo, please. The police are coming.”
Gabriel’s serious face wasn’t fun, and bothering him wasn’t much fun, so Momo got up from the couch, and pushed aside the two-headed man with no shirt on. He was always in the way, his body twice as wide to carry both heads, and she grabbed the mic from the speaker system to make an announcement.
Her eyes pulsed grey, and once again Gabriel shivered in disgust at how so many people that surrounded him were blessed with abilities they should never have.
“Meatsuits go home.”
All the normal people streamed out of the house, the remaining monsters moaned and groaned, a few of them left to try and grab their escaping meals, and Momo watched intently, making sure all of them left.
Except for two.
She pointed at two women, and they were instructed to sit on the couch and not do anything until the meatsuits leave.
Only about thirty monsters were left, plus two meatsuits.
One sat wearing a pink neon dress, barely long enough to be decent, and platform heels. The other wore a red jumpsuit and black wedges, her black hair up in a bun.
“Long time no see Mimi and Kalei” Carlos grinned, walking over to the couch.
They jerked and had the same looks of disgust as Gabriel, their bodily autonomy momentarily stolen from them.
“Uh, h-hi Father,” Mimi mumbled.
“You shouldn’t dress so openly,” Carlos said.
“She can wear what she wants,” Kalei replied. “I think her dress is cute.”
Momo tapped the mic, a loud screech went off, and all the monsters complained, as she announced that they would have to get down to business.
“Today is our first meeting, and today, we’ll finally find a cure for our curses,” Momo declared. They all smiled, their scales bristled, a loud screech of happiness was let out, and Gabriel took the mic.
“I think representation is important, so we should find more like us to find a way to beat our problem. There’s strength in numbers!”
A loud roar of agreement came out from the crowd.
“We should find a werewolf as well, to help us and-”
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Laughter erupted from the crowd, and Momo patted his back giggling.
“Oh Gabriel, everyone knows werewolves don’t exist,” she said. “Stop messing around.”
Gabriel handed her the mic and walked away, confused more and more every day.
The music was turned off, the discussion became serious, and they all came up with a name for their new group.
Society of Hope In a Terrible Eternity.
S.H.I.T.E
Gabriel was the only one to vote against the name, because of the acronym, but no one else noticed, and he was starting to miss the days he was so unhinged that he didn’t notice these sorts of things. Everyone started to treat him like he was odd, the only sane man in a sea of insanity.
The group of monsters became a little smaller, leaving only fifteen, and they were broken into three groups of five, so they could investigate, and grow their numbers, this time, without accidentally inviting meatsuits and having the police called.
While discussing which place to first investigate, Momo abruptly stopped talking mid-sentence while talking to Larissa The Lamia. Her eyes fluttered rapidly, and everyone knew that the family was telling her something important.
Kalei heard it too, and she knew their little group was about to be disbanded.
“I can’t stay,” Momo said. “Asher doesn’t want me here.”
She left, and four others as well, more afraid of Asher than the drudge of eternity.
Carlos, Gabriel, Savannah, Mimi, and Kalei were in the first group and their first mission was to investigate the story of a man that was turned, but miraculously became human. Carlos and Gabriel remembered what Gio had told them, so they wanted the book in his study, and knew their mission would be much easier with it.
So Carlos committed a crime.
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In the dead of night, on a snowy day, the wind whipping around the old stone building, were two bright and shiny red dots, the only visible thing in the freak blizzard. It was bobbing up and down as it climbed the stone tower, claws scraping against the tile, the monster clutching the filthy stones.
It screamed and howled the harder the wind blew, and when it slipped it would bite into the stone, crushing rocks with the power of its jaw, just to hang on. After an arduous climb, the monster slipped into an open square, an old window that was just a cut-out hole, sealed over with a taped black trash bag, and tumbled inside.
Filthy and wet, he hissed when Fiorino was staring down at him, awaiting his arrival.
“You’ve returned to kill us all, have you savage,” Fiorino asked. He held an oil lamp and was wearing a bathrobe because he had immediately left his bed when one of the sisters told him she felt the presence of something unholy outside the building.
Carlos looked more like an angry burglar dressed in all black, but he didn’t bother to wear a mask, because he thought it didn’t matter. Fiorino held up his hand, and it emitted a soft glow, his hand on the trigger.
“Explain yourself quickly or meet a slow death,” the old man said.
“I need the book,” Carlos shouted. “I need the Libro Sanguis. I don’t want to be like this!”
Fiorino kept his hand raised and weighed the consequences of what he was considering.
“You don’t like your state,” Fiorino asked. “Did you not walk away from the Lord yourself?”
“Why would I want to live like this,” Carlos screamed. “My family is dead! Everyone I knew is dead! I should be dead. ”
Fiorino wasn’t incapable of sympathy, but he was still wary, especially since Carlos decided to threaten him inside his study. But the desperation on his face made him wonder, and there was still the problem of Gio Placido.
“Is Gio dead,” Fiorino asked.
“What, no,” Carlos replied. “He’s alive, just damaged. He tried to kill a woman!”
Fiorino tried to piece together many things, but Gio's attempt to murder someone wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. Fiorino wasn’t sure what Gio was, but he had seen him adjust his face once on accident, and a nurse called him to report that he was lying, he never performed the last rites at the children’s hospital.
Fiorino lowered his hand and asked one last question to pass judgment.
“Do you know what a _______ is?"
Carlos heard the question, but the words ______ were blocked out.
“Can you repeat that,” Carlos asked.
“Do you know what a _____ is?"
Carlos saw his lips move, but the words were muffled like he was underwater, and in horror, he realized that someone had done something to him, but he didn’t know what. So he tried to play along and tried to answer as best as he could.
“No, I don’t know,” Carlos replied.
Fiorino lowered his hand and sighed.
“Come with me,” Fiorino said. “I was worried you came to steal it.”
Fiorino, without hesitation, gave Carlos the Libro Sanguis, and Carlos made a strange face but mumbled a quick thank you.
“We have no need for it, with most of them dead,” Fiorino said. “We have no idea why they decided to commit suicide en masse, but the world is a lot safer now.”
“Don’t think you’re safe,” Carlos warned him. “The man who did it is still around, and he’s coming for you if you try to fight him.”
“Why would we,” Fiorino chuckled. “He got rid of the thorns in our side.”
Fiorino led Carlos through the cold hallways, and to a locked door, that looked no different than the others. Hidden in plain sight, behind the heavy metal door were treasures lost to time, safe-kept by the Disciples of Amorth.
Fiorino opened a wooden box, and Carlos looked inside, but the object he saw was blurred, like a smudge, and he balled his hands into fists, wondering who had done something to him.
Was it Gio?
It couldn’t be Fiorino, why else would he show it to him?
“Gio convinced me to let you two stay because Gabriel was one of those halflings, ” Fiorino said in disgust. “Gio told me only they can use this horrid thing, and if anyone who isn’t similar to them touches it, it can sometimes give horrible consequences.”
Carlos nodded, and smiled, pretending like he saw what was in front of him, and Fiorino was none the wiser. He closed the small wooden box and gave it to Carlos. Carlos saw how Fiorino looked, grim, his wrinkles accentuated by the dim glow of the oil lamp.
He grasped Carlos’s hands firmly when he placed the small box in his hand, trying to make sure he understood.
“Gio is going to kill us, I fear,” Fiorino said. “Most of us are old, and few of us are left.”
“You can’t do this,” Carlos pleaded.
“I am entrusting-”
“I don’t want this anymore,” Carlos said, and he placed it right back into Fiorino’s hands.
Like a game of hot potato, they passed the small box back and forth between each other as they spoke, none wanting to bear the responsibility any further.
“I judged you wrong, you can have it,” Fiorino said, passing it back.
“No, I’m horrible, take it,” Carlos muttered, refusing to even touch it.
“I did judge you wrong. You could have killed us all in our sleep, giving in to your demonic nature, but you did not. When you told me that you didn’t want to be… unnatural … I believed you.”
It was as close as an apology Carlos would ever get from the very racist undertones and insults Fiorino and Gio had given him, but it wasn’t enough for him. He didn’t want something he couldn’t see, he didn’t want something he couldn’t use, giving it to Gabriel and putting the responsibility onto him.
“Please, I’m begging you. If Gio finds out how to use this, I’m afraid he is planning something much worse. What if that man who killed all the others gets his hands on this?”
At the mention of Asher, Carlos grabbed the box and told himself he would just hide it. No one would know. He would keep it a secret until the end of time, if it ever could end, as long as he was forced to stay alive.
It was not a long-kept secret as Gabriel would soon find it.