Russell grasped the cold metal of the handlebars as he peered outside the clubhouse lobby, fully aware the glass doors wouldn’t do much to stop what was coming.
Someone had left the key inserted in the floor lock, but locking the entrance would be pointless.
“Have you seen Serena?” he asked Clayton as he leaned down and locked the doors anyway.
“I haven’t,” answered a female voice.
Russell's shoulders stiffened. His gaze whipped behind him. Clayton was gone, and his “good” friend had left Russell’s ex-girlfriend alone with him.
Harper shrugged. “But I’m sure she’s here somewhere. Solace attends to her guests like the perfect host that she is.”
“I thought you were—”
“I know.”
Russell never stopped listening to the song, but his mind raced with unnecessary thoughts as his chronic introversion reared its ugly head. “Why are you still here? You’re wasting precious time.”
“Are you sure about this?” Harper asked, her eyes fixed on him, unblinking. “Do you know what you’re asking me to do?”
“Just trust me, okay? If I’m wrong, then I’ll shoulder all the blame.”
Harper nodded but showed no signs of leaving. This close, she resembled a child, with the top of her head reaching his eyes only because of her high heels, the blazer appearing like a large cloak on her, making her look smaller than usual.
Sighing, Russell shifted his duffel bag behind him as he turned to face her. “What do you want, Ace?”
An eyebrow passed above the black frame of her glasses as she gave him a questioning look.
“I know you well enough to know that you wouldn’t be here without an agenda in mind.”
Harper averted her gaze. Her fingers combed through her short hair as she took her time to reply. “About what happened earlier? When you were asking me and Bradford if we saw anything?” She bit her lip, hesitant. “I just…”
Russell blinked in disbelief. Harper? Acting nervous? Had this woman ever been unsure of herself?
“Never mind,” she said, reaching her hand out to him. “Here, take it.”
He took the offered item without thinking, his fingers brushing against hers. She pulled away, leaving behind a black beanie in his hand.
His eyes widened in recognition. “This is…But how did you—”
“I guess forgetting truly comes easy for you.” Her eyebrows pinched together before she about-faced and stalked away. “I gave that to you as a gift.”
His hand clutched the knitted cap, feeling its warmth as he stared at her departing back, her silhouette blending into the darkness as the seconds passed.
“Man, look who I found,” Clayton’s voice called out.
Russell raked back the mess of his hair and wrapped the beanie around his head. He squinted into the darkness of the lobby, wondering what kind of trouble his friend had gotten into this time, and he did a double-take. “Justin?”
The man walking beside Clayton gave Russell a wave, his blonde hair the same tousled mess he wore in school, only now he looked like a wiry kid next to a giant. Justin hadn’t aged a bit, and he still wore the same eyeglasses only people living in retirement wore. What gave him an adult vibe was the suit he wore…and the wispy mustache hanging under his nose.
“Hey…” Russell said. “I haven’t seen you since…”
Justin let out an awkward chuckle. “Yeah…”
“Well, isn’t this great?” Clayton draped his huge arms over their shoulders, bringing them closer together as he marched them into the lobby’s dark depths. “With the three of us here, we have the beginnings of a proper party.”
Russell shook his head. The awkwardness between him and Justin wasn’t something he could disregard, not when they hadn’t met in ten years. Clayton acted as if no time had passed, breaking down barriers as easy as breathing.
The guy had always been the glue holding their friendship together.
Justin adjusted his glasses after he was forced to hunch over. “Party? What party?”
“You know. Fighting as a team. Leveling up by killing monsters. Raiding dungeon bosses. The whole shebang,”
“Uhm…what? What are you talking about, Clayton? I didn’t sign up for any of that.”
“Dude, we already talked about this. You loved to play these kind of games, yeah?”
Russell sighed. “I told you this isn’t a game, Clay. You have to start taking this seriously.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Clayton did a little hop as he fidgeted between them. “Damn, I think I got too excited. I need to go to the bathroom so bad…”
“I’m sure the comfort rooms they have here are ‘dope’ enough for you,” Justin grumbled. “And Russell’s right. We’re talking about real monsters here. Not ones and zeroes and pixels behind a screen.”
“Well, it’s too late for you to back out now. According to our resident monster detector, they’re right outside as we speak.”
Justin’s eyes popped in their sockets. “Say what?”
“Russ?” someone called out.
Russell pried Clayton’s tattooed arm away from him and looked over his shoulder. Serena headed for them with another person in tow. Another stranger in another suit, but unlike the others, this guy carried a ring binder under his hand and wore a small mic next to his cheek.
“What’s going on?” Serena asked. “Did you manage to get your truck to start?” Her hair, once long and flowing, was now tied into a bun, appearing uncharacteristically disheveled. Russell didn’t expect to see her this harried when not even half an hour had passed since he last saw her. And the feeling of shame came out of nowhere, like a punch to his gut.
“You’re Russell Flynn?” the man beside her asked, looking Russell up and down before pursing his lips. “What have you done this time, handsome? We’ve got people saying you picked up your truck like it weighed nothing. Then we’ve got Ms. Small-But-Terrible warning ‘The Brady Bunch’ about another monster attack. Apparently, because you told her to get the muscleheads ready.”
“Because we need men who can fight,” Russell said, immediately disliking the guy. “And if I were you, I wouldn’t call Harper that to her face.”
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Wait a minute,” Serena cut in, “there’s another one? Where did you see it? Was it the same thing?” Lines creased her forehead. Her panicked voice caught the attention of the people around them, and they turned their heads, listening in.
“Oh, God, you guys are delusional. Are you lovebirds for real right now?” the dislikeable guy asked.
Serena shot him a look. “Donald. Not now.”
He let out an insufferable groan. “So? Where is this monster you speak of?”
“I…” Russell trailed off, focusing on his senses, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
The song was gone.
“We didn’t actually see it,” his friend admitted.
Donald’s mouth dropped open. “You…didn’t?”
“No, no, but Russ heard it coming. We had to run back inside before it was too late, you know?”
Donald bobbed his head at Clayton “Oh. He heard it?” Head still bobbing, his attention returned to Russell. “You heard it. Well, should we now sound the alarm and call everyone to arms, Mr. I-Thought-I-Heard-A-Monster-Coming-So-I-Cried-Wolf?”
A howl drifted from outside, cutting through the din around them, lingering for seconds as the lobby fell silent.
Justin jumped. “W-Was that...?”
“Damn, did you all hear it too?” Clayton asked.
“S-So they’re right outside?” Justin snapped his gaze at the entrance where they had come from. “Are we even safe here inside the clubhouse?”
“Oh, please,” Donald said, waving off their concerns. “We get wolves howling every other night in these parts. It’s no big deal.”
Serena pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing. “We don’t have wolves in Solace Springs, Donald.”
“Talk to the hand, girl,” He shoved his hand right in front of her face. “This is my show now,” he said as he spun around and strutted away.
Russell eyed Serena as people around them exchanged hushed whispers. “Who’s your friend?”
“Donald Adams,” Serena said, half-grumbling. “Senior class president.”
“He was? Weren’t you—“
“Shush. We’ll catch up later.” Serena pointed her chin in Donald’s direction.
Donald had made his way to the empty area in front of the lobby entrance. The crimson light pouring through the glass doors and windows silhouetted his figure. “Hello, everyone. Everyone. Can all of you hear me?”
The whispers died down. Russell looked around. Donald had gotten everyone’s attention.
Donald tapped the dead mic on his cheek before yanking the headset out of his ear. “Now, I’m sure the latest gossip has already made its rounds in the lobby. Another threat. Another monster sighting,” the guy said with a snort, and Russell imagined Donald rolling his eyes in exaggeration. “Oh, wait, my bad. They didn’t even see it this time. They only heard that it was coming.”
“What a jackass, Clayton muttered as the whispers returned. Panicked voices. Disbelieving snorts.
“Yes, yes. Can you believe that? Shocking, right?” Donald asked. “With all the fear-mongering going around, I guess we’re really going to die this time. So scary. I’m scared. Are you scared? Blah, blah, blah!”
The rhythmic beating returned, playing underneath all the noise, and Russell shook his head before heading to the closest window. He needed to make sure.
“Dude, where are you going?” Clayton called out behind him.
Candlelight dotted the lobby, but their warm light was dim, their numbers sparse. Russell had to watch his step as he shuffled past group after group of people listening to Donald, their new source of entertainment.
“God, you people are worse than sheep,” the guy continued. “Are you going to let some fake news derail the one night we’re all back together? Because last time I checked, we all came here to party!”
Russell passed an array of couches and tables occupied by people he recognized—former jocks of the football team.
Where the hell is Ace? He had given her clear instructions. She needed to warn these people, to get them ready. Yet here they were, lounging around with their wives and girlfriends, drinking, laughing, uncaring of the impending threat outside.
He cut through their group, shrugging off their accusatory stares. The smiles disappeared as if he had somehow crashed their party. One of the single-seater sofas held Bradford’s slouched form. The guy had a bottle of whiskey in one hand, a glass in the other, and Harper’s small figure standing over him, looking down her nose, her expression livid.
Russell scoffed at the pathetic sight. Once he reached the closest floor-to-ceiling window, he peered through the glass, his attention shifting outside the lobby as Donald’s annoying voice droned in the background.
With Russell standing beside the windows, the song only grew bolder, stronger. And it called out to him.
“Are we here to party or what? C’mon, let me hear you say it!” Donald hollered as a large silhouette slinked across the parking lot.
Followed by another.
Russell clenched the flashlight in his hand, his gaze snapping back to the area the jocks had appropriated. “Harper!” he said aloud, but she was too busy trying to take the full glass of liquor away from Bradford’s grasp. “Harper!”
She froze, and her gaze flicked to him, her expression suddenly alert.
“Get those people away from the windows!” he said, gesturing toward the scattered groups hanging near the wall windows on this side of the lobby.
Bradford snorted. “Take a look at this guy.” He pushed off from his seat and staggered to his feet. “Who do you think you’re talking to, huh? You don’t speak to my—”
“I don’t have time for you, Collins.” Russell scanned their group, looking for anyone else he could trust. “Rook! You better get your friends away from those windows. Take a few of your guys and warn those on the other side of the lobby as well.”
The former defensive captain stood, his eyes wary. “What’s going on, Flynn? Is this related to what Harper was warning us about?”
More and more of their teammates left their seats, asking the same question.
Russell gave them a somber nod. “The monster Serena and I encountered? There’s more where it came from.”
Eyes stared back at him, many in reservation, some in outright ridicule. But there were a few whose eyes mirrored his, showing neither scorn nor skepticism, only fear.
Russell hoped they’d listen to him this time. His gaze roamed around the rest of large room. These people needed to get ready. He needed to get ready. A better weapon. Supplies. He had been heading back inside for supplies when his plans had been derailed. What else did he—
“You!” He barked. “Get away from those doors!”
Donald’s silhouette came to a halt. The guy glanced over his shoulder, his hand hovering over the door handle of the glass entrance. “Ah, great. You again.”
The ground shuddered under Russell’s feet. A few lounging on their seats felt it as well, and they looked around the dark, worried.
“I’m serious. Get away from there before it’s too late,” Russell said aloud. “And shut the hell up, dammit!”
Donald scoffed. “Oh, please. You may have been a star like Collins, but that was way back in high school. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
The song intensified, increasing in tempo, drumming with sudden fervor.
Russell marched to the front of the room, this time seeing the eye-roll shot Donald shot his way.
“Russ?” Serena asked, intercepting him and placing her hand on his chest. “Russ, what are you doing?”
“Your suicidal friend is making too much noise!” Russell hissed. “And the fool is about to open the damn doors. He’s gonna attract the monsters here!”
“Monsters?” Serena gasped, her eyes growing wide. “Plural?”
Russell gave her a terse nod.
Her gaze swiveled to the entrance, and her large eyes grew even wider. She pushed Russell back as she jogged straight for Donald, calling out his name.
“I’m warning you, Donald!” Russell shouted.
The guy had his head bowed toward the door, his figure trembling. And Russell realized Donald was chuckling to himself.
Russell clenched his fists. “I said don’t do it.”
Donald wiped away something from his eye and let out a loud sigh. “You know what?” The guy smirked. “I’m just going to do it even harder.”
And he flung the glass doors wide open.
Russell held his breath. The doors slammed against the outer side of the glass walls. Gasps rose from more than a few throats at the noise. A tense silence engulfed the lobby as the doors squeaked back the other way, sliding to their initial position, bouncing a few times before eventually coming to a rest.
“See? Nothing!” Donald spun around and faced the crowd, his arms outstretched. “What did I tell you? The guy has a screw loose. He’s been playing us like a fiddle, watching us—”
Explosion rang out.
The ground quaked as noise thundered from outside, rumbling across the windows, the walls, causing gasps of surprise, only for it to end with an abrupt silence.
Yet the song remained.
“Holy Mother of—“ Donald broke out into an awkward chuckle. “That almost scared me straight back inside the closet.”
The glass doors eased open.
“D-Donald…” Serena whispered.
He waved his hand. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”
The door hinges squeaked, and something large squeezed through the opening.
“What the fuck…?” Bradford muttered, his slurred words carried by the silence.
Donald looked around his quiet audience. “Guys…?”
The doors opened further as the figure’s head, shoulders, and body flowed through, its shadow seeping inside the vast lobby.
“It was just a false alarm.” Donald scratched his head before he shot a glance over his shoulder. “Why are you all—“
A giant form loomed before him, spines on its back, talons for claws, scales instead of skin, its wide maw gaping, unveiling rows of savage teeth.
[Scaletooth Savage]
Russell froze. The text didn’t appear right before his eyes this time—the words emerged above the monster’s figure in the distance—the same moment Donald took a step back.
“Holy M—”
The monstrous head snapped forward, seizing its witless prey.