The Tome of Bill (Book 5): Goddamned Freaky Monsters Read online




  Table of Contents

  Me, Myself, and I

  Conversation with a Madman

  A Shock to the System

  The Devil You Know

  Blood Bath

  The Accidental Tourist

  The Eyes Have It

  While You Were Sleeping...

  Escape from Alcatraz

  Head Cheese

  Sightseeing

  A Problem with Customs

  Upgraded Seating

  Pit Stop

  A Hell of a Souvenir

  Homecoming

  No Rest for the Wicked

  A Good DM is a Terrible Thing to Waste

  Showdown in Newark

  Early Morning Commute

  Back in the Saddle Again

  Chick Fight

  I’m Walking on Sunshine

  Hail to the King, Baby

  Elevator Music

  Tactical Retreat

  Calling in the Calvary

  Class Reunion

  Top Headlines for the Day

  Stake Out

  White Lies

  The Cult of Ib

  Sunset is Never Far Away

  A Bird in the Hand is Worth Two in the Ambush

  Headquarters is Where the Heart is

  It Sure Beats Driving

  A Slight Detour

  Forewarned is Four Armed

  Giant Furry People Eaters

  The Long Walk Home

  The Office Park of Ultimate Doom

  The Gauntlet

  Meet the New Boss

  Title Fight

  Dead Office Drones Walking

  Applying for Dismembership

  The Aftermath of an Ass-Kicking

  The Earth-Shattering Epilogue

  Author’s Note

  About the Author

  Bonus Chapter

  Goddamned Freaky Monsters

  The Tome of Bill

  Part 5

  Rick Gualtieri

  Copyright © 2014 Rick Gualtieri

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without prior written permission of the author. Your support of author’s rights is greatly appreciated.

  All characters in this novel are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The use of any real company and/or product names is for literary effect only. All other trademarks and copyrights are the property of their respective owners.

  Edited by Megan Harris at

  http://www.meganwritesmedia.com/

  Cover by Mallory Rock at

  http://www.malloryrock.com/

  Proofread by BZ Hercules:

  http://www.bzhercules.com/

  Published by Freewill press

  Freewill Press

  PO Box 175

  Dunellen, NJ, 08812

  www.freewill-press.com

  For Mom, even though I know she really doesn’t like the title of this book.

  Special thanks to: Alissa, Solace, James, Jonathan, Simon, Jason, & Sheila. Thank you all so much for helping me polish this story. I appreciate you more than I can express in mere words.

  Me, Myself, and I

  ARISE, FREEWILL!!

  Ugh. There are few things that can fuck up a good night’s sleep quite like the goddamned alarm clock going off.

  I stretched and sat up, feeling as if I’d slept for weeks. A yawn escaped my lips and I blinked several times as my body continued booting up. Once my head was clear, I put my glasses on - snapping things into focus.

  Before it could go off again, I smacked the button on the clock - giving it a good whack to drive the point home. Jeez, what a stupid alarm. Who the hell would program something like that into a clock, anyway? It had to have been my roommates fucking with me...again. The dickheads seemed to have a hard-on for doing so.

  Oh well, it was probably time to get my ass moving. It’s not like the work day was going to start without me.

  I hopped right into my morning routine, pausing only momentarily as I tried to think of what was on the docket for the day. Surely there was some fire to be put out - a project due that was probably giving Jim, my manager at Hopskotchgames.com, a near aneurysm. It was the same thing week after week. Sure, it could get annoying, but there was a certain comfort in the routine of it all.

  The only problem was that I had no idea which project needed tending to. Was it Farm Fury? No, we launched that already. Maybe Birds of War? Could be Doctor Dexter’s Daring Dash - that one was coming soon...I think.

  Odd. Usually, I was pretty spot on for my schedule, but for the life of me, I had no clue what I was supposed to be working on. Hell, come to think of it, I had no idea what day it even was. It could have been the freaking weekend for all I knew.

  But then, why the alarm clock? Oh well. It would probably sort itself out as the morning progressed.

  Trying to ignore the concern that nagged at me, I grabbed my clothes and headed toward the bathroom. Hopefully, it would be unoccupied and there would still be some hot water left. Surely a shower would help clear my head.

  * * *

  Just as I sat on the couch, a bowl of Cap’n Crunch in hand, a sense of déjà vu hit me. That was stupid. I mean, of course I’d done this before. I lived in this place, for Christ’s sake. I’d probably eaten hundreds of bowls of tooth-rotting cereal sitting right in this spot.

  I shook it off as part of the general paranoia that had become a part of my existence ever since dying and rising from the proverbial grave as a vampire. The supernatural world was a fucked-up place, and it seemed that I couldn’t take a dump without some entity deciding that I needed to be vaporized. Such things tended to mess with one’s outlook on life after a while.

  Well, fuck that shit. The worries of the underworld could wait until after I’d had my breakfast.

  I flipped on the TV, enjoying the rare moment of normalcy. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Hell, a disturbing amount of my life remained mundane. There was my job, for starters - believe me, becoming one of the undead hadn’t been an instant lottery ticket to riches. There were also my roommates...

  Speaking of which, where the hell were they?

  I guess it made sense that Tom had either left early for his job in Manhattan or maybe slept over at his girlfriend’s place, but Ed worked from home like me. There wasn’t anything requiring him to be in the office today, at least that I could remember, and last night was...

  I paused, a spoonful of cereal halfway to my mouth. Last night was what? That was a blank too. It couldn’t have been too memorable. I mean, heck, the apartment wasn’t even close to being trashed. At the very least, I should’ve had some remembrance of what show I’d watched or video game I’d played, but there was nothing.

  Don’t get me wrong. I didn’t seem to be suffering from amnesia or any bullshit like that. The important stuff was all there: who I was, my job, where I lived - that kind of shit. It was just the recent past that eluded me for some reason.

  I had to admit - it was starting to get odd.

  Maybe we had all gone...

  Come to think of it, when was the last time I had even seen my roommates?

  No, that was stupid. We were the best of friends. We hung out all the time...even when the forces of evil were trying to collectively ass-fuck us.

  Weird. Maybe I drank a few bottles of overly skunked beer last night and it was screwing with my brain. That didn’t sound so farfetched. If so, my vampire metabolism would take care of it as the day went on, hopefully allow
ing the fog to lift from my head.

  Yeah, I’d let things sort themselves out. There was probably no point in worrying.

  I bit down with a satisfying crunch, then began scanning through the channels, hoping to find something worth watching.

  Not wanting to burden my soul with Good Morning America or similar insipid morning shit, I quickly skipped to the cable channels - finally stopping on what looked to be some sort of action flick.

  There was a battle taking place on a rooftop. Multi-colored lightning flashed in the background as the combatants recklessly tore into each other - gotta love low-budget sci-fi. Yeah, this had promise.

  A glowing blonde angel was trashing the bad guys in the middle of it all. Damn, she was hot. Hopefully, this flick had some nudity in it. That wouldn’t exactly be a horrible way to start the day.

  Another character, this one decked out in a SpongeBob backpack of all things, hopped onto the screen and began similarly kicking ass. She looked to be of roughly schoolgirl age. Maybe this was a Japanese fetish flick. Talk about a country that was seriously fucked in the head when it came to entertainment.

  I was about to change the channel and see what else was playing when my hand paused on the remote. The walking Nickelodeon advertisement was tackled from the side and dragged screaming off the edge. It should have been hilarious. I mean, seriously, I’ve never seen a Wilhelm scream scene that didn’t crack me up. Something about this bothered me, though.

  That déjà vu feeling hit me again like a brick to the forehead.

  No idea why, but the whole thing felt oddly familiar, and not in a good way. Sadness filled me at the poor little character’s demise. As the rest of the scene unfolded before me, I actually had to reach up and wipe a few tears from my eyes.

  I quickly glanced around, making sure neither of my roommates was present to see my sensitive side coming out to play. I’d never hear the end of that. After a few moments - satisfied that I was still alone - I turned back to see how things played out.

  The battle seemed to be over. The angel stood there, victorious. She was still wearing too much clothing for my personal gratification, but nevertheless, I was tempted to stand up and cheer for her. Then I noticed one of the bad guys was still alive and approaching from her blind side.

  I actually shouted, “No!” at the screen as he pulled out a ridiculously large gun and pointed it at the blonde Xena’s head. A bullet to her face ended the showdown.

  I stared transfixed, wondering how the director could allow such a downer of an ending. Asshole should’ve been fired. Things weren’t quite over yet, though. Apparently in need of a fucked-up finale to finish things off with, a bad CGI monster - some kind of Hulk rip-off - jumped into frame from out of nowhere and began tearing shit up.

  Okay, this was getting a little too out there, even for me - which was strange in and of itself. Normally, I enjoyed fucked-up foreign movies, but this one had left a bad taste in my mouth for some reason.

  I clicked off the television and placed my bowl down, my appetite gone too.

  Standing up, I turned my thoughts toward work. Heck, after watching that shit, I was actually looking forward to it. Maybe a few hours of coding would slap me out of my funk. I still had no idea exactly what I was supposed to be programming, but maybe that didn’t matter. Hell, worst-case scenario was I would wing it - maybe take a stab at creating something from scratch. It’s not like Jim would say no to some extra...

  A knock at the door interrupted my train of thought.

  I waited for a moment, making sure I hadn’t imagined it, but then it came again. Hmm, kind of early for visitors.

  Not thinking too much of it, I stood up and walked over - assuming one of my wayward roommates had locked himself out again. In the back of my head, thoughts of wizards, vampire assassins, and angry Sasquatches played out, but I dismissed them all. Most of those, especially that last group, probably wouldn’t have bothered knocking. Besides, I lived in the middle of Brooklyn - not exactly prime Bigfoot country.

  Chuckling at my own paranoia, I reached for the knob. As the door opened, though, the sound instantly died in my throat. For a moment, I could do nothing but gape in stunned silence.

  The person who stood there was quite familiar to me. I’d have known him anywhere, even with the black eyes and razor sharp fangs.

  How could I not? It was me.

  Yeah, my day had just gotten a wee bit stranger.

  Conversation with a Madman

  Alternate-me elbowed his way past. “Get the fuck out of my way.”

  Maybe it was the shock of being told off by myself, but I obeyed and stepped aside. I mean, he...err I...obviously lived here.

  “Make yourself at home,” I muttered. Yeah, this day was definitely ratcheting up the weirdness points.

  My duplicate sat down on the couch and picked up the remote. “Grab me a beer.”

  To my great surprise, I actually walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge. It was there that I paused to consider things. Ignoring that the other me was obviously a pushy bastard, I didn’t have a single clue as to who or what he really was. Obviously, I was me. I’d been Bill Ryder my entire life and beyond. Maybe this guy was a...

  “I’m not a doppelganger,” he said from the couch. That was a bit creepy. Couldn’t those alien pods from...

  “Invasion of the Body Snatchers was just a movie, numb-nuts. Now hurry the fuck up with that beer before I kick your ass.”

  Well, that was just rude. This fucker obviously didn’t know who I was. I’d stood toe to toe with some freaky monsters in the past...much scarier shit than, well, me. There was no way I was going to be intimated by a dorky looking...uh, make that devilishly handsome opponent such as him.

  I pulled a Samuel Smith from the fridge - wondering for just a moment when we’d started stocking the good stuff - and popped the cap. I raised it to my lips. Fuck this guy if he thought...

  “Don’t even think of backwashing into that.”

  Goddamn, was this guy Uri Geller wearing a Bill mask or something? This was getting odder by the moment. Rather than further antagonizing either of us, I walked over and handed him the beer - resisting the urge to spit in it.

  “Do you mind?” I asked sarcastically, indicating the chair.

  “It’s a free country.” He took a long pull, then clicked the remote. The exact same scene from earlier - the end of that disturbing movie - played on the TV. “All right. This part always makes me laugh.”

  I sat down, making sure I was out of arm’s reach. Just because I wasn’t all that afraid of him didn’t mean I was going to be stupid about it. The act wasn’t lost on my other self, who grinned - showing off his fangs.

  “I don’t suppose you could put those things away.”

  “You suppose correct.”

  “Fine. Be that way. Listen, Bill, I don’t know what kind of bullshit this...”

  His eyes flashed dangerously for a moment - pretty impressive stuff, considering his lack of pupils. “Don’t call me that.”

  “But if you’re supposed...”

  “That’s your name, not mine.”

  “Then what the fuck should I call you?”

  “Think about it real hard. I’m sure it’ll come to you.”

  What the hell was that supposed to mean? Did he want to be called William? Perhaps Mr. Ryder? Fuck that shit. I couldn’t even get my bank to call me that. There’s no way I was going to refer to this asshole as mister just because he thought he had some rad evil look going on.

  Wait…evil?

  Oh, fuck.

  Some days I am a goddamned moron.

  “I can see the light of comprehension dawning in your eyes,” he said, chuckling.

  “Dr. Death?”

  “And Bingo was his name-o.”

  * * *

  “So you’re really that...uh...thing inside of me?”

  “The world lost a great poet when you decided to go into programming.”

  “I expected you to be
a bit scarier.”

  “And I expected you to be less of a dim bulb.”

  This was going nowhere fast. Talking smack at each other had its amusement value, but wasn’t the most useful tactic for figuring out why the beast inside of me...wasn’t. If he was who he claimed - and I wasn’t quite ready to buy into his crap just yet - then he was my uber-scary half, the side effect of being the vampire Freewill. He was the thing that reared its ugly head when I got majorly pissed and turned me into something akin to the more monstrous versions of the Dr. Jekyll and Mister Hyde retellings.

  That made no sense, though. It wasn’t like he was someone who stepped out of my closet when I got angry. When I was in the midst of unbearable rage - or pain, let’s not forget that - my body somehow transformed. My power would increase umpteen times, but my conscious mind would completely blank out. When I finally woke back up, there was usually blood, a lot of it. Needless to say, I tried to keep my temper in check around my friends.

  In the comics, the Hulk had guys like Thor to smack him down if he got too uppity. As far as I was aware, though, the only thing that could stop me was...

  “The Icon?” he asked. “Yeah, that didn’t work out so well.”

  “Stop doing that. It’s fucking creepy.” I paused for a moment to consider things. “How exactly are you doing that? I didn’t realize mind reader was on my resume.”

  “It isn’t.”

  “So then how...”

  “Come on, you can do it.”

  “If you can’t...”

  “Right on the tip of your tongue, isn’t it?”

  Holy shit. Nah, it couldn’t be. That only happened on...

  “Lousy television shows when they want to show the abstract concept of thought?” he asked idly.

  “We’re in my mind, aren’t we?”

  “Technically our mind, but yep. Give the man a cigar!”

  * * *

  “So...” I was unsure of where to start. If we were in my mind, a dubious concept at best, then who was manning the store, so to speak?

  “Why don’t you just try asking, genius?” evil alternate me offered. “Christ, in the time you spend thinking rather than doing, whole civilizations could rise and fall. I mean, fuck, you couldn’t even ask one girl out on a date.”

 

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