Here Be Monsters - an Anthology of Monster Tales

113 Pages·2011·1.26 MB·English

by  Murphy M T

HERE BE MONSTERS
A collection of tales about vampires, demons, and other horrors

M.T. Murphy
S.M. Reine
India Drummond
Anabel Portillo
Jeremy C. Shipp
Samantha Anderson
Sara Reinke
Alissa Rindels
Jose Manuel Portillo Barrientos

Copyright for each story is held, all rights reserved, by the individual
authors. All rights reserved.
License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may
not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book
with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you
share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not
purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for
respecting the hard work of this author.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are
products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to
actual events, locales, or persons living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Anthology Table of Contents

Blackmail
M.T. Murphy

Something Wrong
S.M. Reine

The Reaver
India Drummond

Lux
Anabel Portillo

Figs
Jeremy C. Shipp

Deals and Demons
Samantha Anderson

Periphery People
Sara Reinke

Spider Bag
M.T. Murphy

Dark Fantasy Art

Bartleby
Midnight Requiem
Pendulum Swing
Nightingale
Sins of the Father
by Alissa Rindels
Lamia
by Jose Manuel Portillo Barrientos

Author Biographies
Blackmail
M.T. Murphy
©2011
All rights reserved.
Edited by Erin Stropes

It wasn’t every day that Tim knocked a beautiful woman flat on her back.
He stared at her from atop his clumsy six-foot, three-inch frame, wishing he
could turn back time.
“Oh my god. I am so sorry.” He knew the words couldn’t possibly convey
his horror.
The young woman sat up and crossed her feet as elegantly as one could do
in such a situation. She had long black hair and the greenest eyes he had ever
seen. He expected her to be hurt, furious, or both.
Instead, she laughed. It was a warm and carefree sound, one that made him
feel far more comfortable than it should have. After all, he had bowled her over
like a stampeding ox as soon as the elevator doors opened. It didn’t get any more
ungentlemanly than that.
She stood before he had a chance to offer to help her up.
“It is all right. The hour is late and you wish to go home,” she said. “I
should have known better than to wait directly in front of the elevator.”
“No, I’m an oaf. It’s totally my fault.” He shoved his hand out at her with
a weak smile. “I’m Tim from accounting.”
She shook his hand. Her grip was stronger than that of most of his male
colleagues. It was the kind of grip that demanded one’s full attention.
“Hello, Tim from accounting,” she said with a warm smile of her own. “I
am Lucy. It is nice to meet you.”
He liked the way she said his name. Her barely perceptible accent made it
sound like the letter “t” was just a little heavier than the rest.
He tried to think of something witty to say. Nothing came to mind.
“You are here late, Tim. Are you working on anything exciting?”
He glanced down at his leather satchel, suddenly remembering why he had
been in such a hurry. “Not really. Just a special project for my boss.”
“Something that will benefit all of us in the Romana family of companies,
I hope?”
Tim frowned. “We’ll see.” He shook off the gloom and jumped as the
elevator buzzed at him for blocking the doors open too long. He moved out of
the way and stuck his hand in front of the impatient doors, holding them open for
her. “I’m really sorry about, you know, acting like a human bowling ball. Could
I buy you a cup of coffee sometime?” Inwardly, he cringed. Knock her down,
then hit on her. Subtle as a caveman.
“I am not much of a coffee drinker,” she said, stepping into the elevator.
“Ah,” Tim said, and released the doors. He knew a polite rejection when
he heard one. He couldn’t blame her.
“But”—she held out a business card which he snapped up greedily—“I
would love for you to stop by my office sometime so we can chat.”
He nodded like a confused puppy. She smiled again. The doors closed and
he took a step back, watching the floor numbers change on the digital display.
Lucy’s suit had been crisp and elegant, much like the rest of her. She was
probably a personal assistant for one of the reclusive executives. It would figure
that one of those dirty old men would hire himself a woman like that to ogle.
The lobby of the Romana Industries tower was empty save for the spiky-
haired blonde woman stalking around the front doors. The woman worked as
bodyguard and additional security for the executives. She made no effort to hide
the fact that she was staring at Tim. He nodded politely but she did not return the
gesture.
He glanced back at the elevator. The display indicated that it had stopped
on the thirteenth floor—the ultra-private executive floor, only accessible by a
numeric code held by a handful of people.
“Figures,” Tim said to himself. Then he looked at the business card.
Lucille Romana
President and Chief Executive Officer
A chill ran down Tim’s spine. He had a crush on the very person his boss
was planning to blackmail.
He rushed out the front door, pretending to ignore the menacing glare of
the spiky-haired blonde woman.
*****
An hour later, he recounted the tale on the old couch in Barry’s apartment.
“You actually met her?” Barry asked. “I’ve been working there for four
years and never saw her once. You’ve been there three months and you’re
practically dating?”
“It’s not like that. I was getting off the elevator. She was getting on. She
was really nice considering I nearly killed her.” Tim paused, replaying the scene
in his mind. “And…”
“And what?”
“She’s pretty.”
Barry thumped him on the head. “Get your noggin in the game. She’s the
enemy.”
“I told you I don’t want any part of this.”
“Tim”—Barry tapped his chin and wrinkled his brow as if deep in thought
—“I’m drawing a blank here. Who was it that loaned you the money for that last
year of grad school when they cut your scholarship?”
Tim grimaced. He knew where the question was heading and he didn’t like
it. “You did, but—”
“Who made the other seniors stop beating you up every day in high school
when he was a senior and you were a freshman?”
“You did.”
“And whose family took yours in when your good-for-nothing father left?”
“Yours,” Tim replied.
“And who helped you get a dream accounting job right out of college
when you had no other job prospects?”
“You did.” He wanted to point out that he had paid back the loan and his
mother had paid more than their share of the rent and other expenses for the
month they stayed with Barry’s family all those years ago. That didn’t change
the fact that Barry had helped him again and again. Reminding him of that
seemed to be one of Barry’s favorite pastimes.
“You’re like a brother to me, Tim—albeit a younger, stupider brother. I’ve
always looked out for you and I need you to back me up on this.”
“Barry, how much money do you make?”
Barry waved away the implications of the statement. “I make low six
figures, but you don’t understand. I have some…vices.”
After resisting Barry’s invitations to go with him to the casinos every
weekend for the past two years, Tim was actually very aware of the man’s dirty
little “secrets.” If gambling debts, drugs, and prostitutes were riches, Barry
would have been King Midas.
“Look,” Barry said. “I got invited to a celebrity poker game after hours last
month, but I was already out of cash. To make a long story short: I owe some
guy named Vince seventy-five thousand dollars by the end of the week.”
“Have you thought about talking to human resources at the office? They
always talk about us being a part of the Romana ‘family.’ Maybe they could…”
“They could what?” Barry yelled. “Fire me on the spot?” He took a deep
breath and regained his cool. “I’m sorry. Did you bring the package I left?”
“Yes.” Tim removed the brown pack from this bag. “I don’t see why you
couldn’t bring it.”
“It would have been too suspicious if I did it.” Barry opened the box and
shuffled through the contents. “Did you look at what’s in here?”
“No,” Tim said.
“Good. Plausible deniability for you.” Barry flipped through the
documents, stopping at one very old photograph.
Tim couldn’t see the image, but the corners of the photo were rounded and
the back had yellowed with age. It had to be at least fifty years old, if not older.
“Our CEO has a secret,” Barry said, “and I think the price tag for keeping
that secret is a cool 1.5 million dollars.”
“Let’s set aside the fact that you are obviously bat-shit crazy for a minute.
How did you arrive at that number?”
“Don’t you pay attention, rookie? This company makes so much dough
that anything less than two million is not even a blip on the radar. It’s a rounding
error. I’ll pay back what I owe to the sharks and take a million for myself. I
know a guy in Costa Rica who needs a financial director for his new resort. I’ll
take that job and retire in style at the ripe old age of thirty-four.”
“And the rest?” Tim asked, already afraid of the answer.
“That is your cut just for helping me with a few simple, untraceable tasks.
You deserve it. I won’t take no for an answer.” Barry reached into his work bag
next to the couch. “Check this out.” He tossed a dark object toward Tim’s face.
Tim caught the thing in self defense. He turned it over in his hands, and it
took him almost a full second to realize what it was. “A gun? Why do you have a
gun?”
Barry shrugged. “Hey, man. These are some rough characters I owe. It’s
just for protection.”
Tim moved slowly, placing the gun on the table as though it were a bomb
that was ready to explode. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Barry. This is getting crazy.”
He wanted stay and argue with his old friend, but the thought of what
Barry wanted him to do made him nauseous. Instead, he went home and
dreamed of guns, loan sharks, jail cells, and the CEO’s gorgeous green eyes.
*****
When Tim arrived at the office the next morning, Barry was sitting at
Tim’s desk, using his computer. “What are you doing?” he asked.
Barry jumped, obviously startled. “Sorry. System update was taking
forever on my machine, so I was just surfing on yours. Had to check my
messages.” He took his time, finally getting out of Tim’s chair after making
several more precise clicks of the mouse. “I’m sending the CEO an email today
to request a meeting tonight.”
They were the only two people in that corner of the building, but Tim still
glanced around nervously. “Why are you talking about it out loud like that? Are
you nuts?”
“Relax. I made friends with one of the security guys who works in the
main control room. He said that only the entrances and exits are monitored. They
don’t even log what websites we visit. Thank God for that, otherwise they’d
have fired me years ago.” Barry laughed and punched Tim in the arm.
“Barry, we have to talk about this. There’s no way you’ll get away with
it.”
“It’s fool-proof,” Barry said. “I’ll send Miss Romana a taste of the
incriminating documents via a totally untraceable email account and tell her
where to wire the cash. Once the transfer is made, the receiving account will
split it up and send it to forty-three separate accounts in fifteen different
countries. By the time they track them down, I’ll have run that money through
several legit businesses and made it so squeaky clean you could eat off it.”
He reached into his pocket and produced a piece of paper with two series
of numbers scrawled on it. “Before I forget, here is the account number and
phone number for the bank with your cut.” He folded the paper and placed it in
Tim’s shirt pocket, not giving him a chance to protest. “Don’t worry, I made
sure yours goes through twelve different banks on its own. It is completely
untraceable.”
“What makes you think she’ll go for this instead of calling the police?”
“It really is an offer she can’t refuse. Her choices are to call the cops and
lose everything or pay the measly million and a half bucks. She’ll pay.” Barry’s
confidence spilled out in the form of a smug grin.
Tim couldn’t help but see the specter of prison bars in their future.
“Look, Barry. I told you I don’t want any part of this. I’ve already done
more than I wanted to. Just do me one favor. Don’t set this in motion today.
Sleep on it. We’ll put our heads together and figure something out so you don’t
have to do this.”
Barry scowled. Tim knew he was nearly impossible to dissuade once he’d
set his mind to something, no matter how crazy it was. But, surprisingly, after a
moment the scowl softened and Barry smiled. “Fine. Waiting one day won’t kill
me, I guess. Let’s meet in your office tonight at eight. I have some month-end
stuff to finish so I’ll be working late anyway. Go grab a bite to eat when you’re
done with work and come back. I don’t know how the hell you think we can
figure out a way to make enough cash to pay off my debt, but we can talk about
it.”
They parted with a nod. Tim was surprised at how quickly Barry had
caved, but he felt a little better. After Barry left, he looked at the computer and
found that the last thing he had done was clear the internet history.
Tim shook his head. “Barry and his porn. I don’t even want to know.” He
spent the rest of the day working and trying to figure out how to raise the money
without breaking the law.
He finished up his work well after sunset and walked by Barry’s office
door on his way to the elevator. It was closed, as it was every month when
crunch time rolled around. He could hear fingers furiously banging on keys as
Barry drafted the monthly summary for the executives to let them know the state
of financial affairs. He had his issues, but Barry was a wizard when it came to
numbers.
Tim rode the elevator down to the third floor. The bell rang and he
reminded himself to look before rushing through the doors. They opened and he
jumped.
“Hi, Tim.” Lucille Romana smiled and stood patiently outside the elevator.
He stood with his mouth agape for several seconds before rational thought
returned. “Hi…uh…Lucy. I didn’t knock you down this time.” Smooth.
“I appreciate that,” she said.
A moment of awkward silence passed. Lucifera glanced into the elevator
behind him. “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine. Great. Never better. You?”
“I am well.” She was still smiling, but a look of concern had crept into her
eyes. “Are you sure you’re all right? Is there something you wanted to tell me?”
My friend is a psychopathic dope fiend and gambling addict who is
planning to blackmail you. Also, he’s armed and I’m pretty sure he downloaded