Fight the MonSter: Find a Cure for MS Read online

  Fight the MonSter

  Edited by Jodi Bricker

  Fight the MonSter

  ©2015 May December Publications, LLC

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living, dead, or otherwise, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  This book is protected under the copyright laws of the United States of America. Any reproduction or unauthorized use of the material or artwork contained herein is prohibited without the express written permission of the author or May December publications.

  Printed in the U.S.A.

  Preface

  MS is a scary illness. It is commonly called an invisible disease, because its effects aren't always apparent on the surface, even when a person is dealing with any number of the many possible symptoms that can manifest at any time. Invisible and insidious, because we still have no real understanding of what causes MS or why the disease acts on the body the way it does. Since I was diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis in 2000, there have been great advances in treatment methods, many thanks to the research done by the National Multiple Sclerosis Society, but there is still no cure.

  The Horror genre we have chosen for this anthology is more often associated with inescapable situations, blood, and gore, than with hope; however, hope is what the 23 million people affected by multiple sclerosis, myself included, need the most. Hope that today will be another day in remission, hope that better treatments will be found to deal with the symptoms, and most importantly, hope for a cure. The stories in this collection may cause delightful shivers and make hearts beat a bit faster, but they were contributed by frighteningly talented authors to bring hope, and to Fight the Monster that is multiple sclerosis. Authors TW Brown, Jason Kristopher, Karen E. Taylor, Heath Stallcup, Lonnie Bricker, Doug Dandridge, and Ben Kraus, and narrators Andrew McFerrin, Nick J. Russo, John Solo, Rayna Cole, and Fauna Nyx responded to our call for help by donating their work, their talent, and their time to make this anthology a reality. All proceeds will be donated to support the search for a cure.

  So, the array of creepy characters you will encounter in this book; from angels and demons to vampires and zombies, are getting their chance to be the good guys for once. By purchasing this book and audio book, you too are making a difference in this fight. Hopefully you will be rewarded by many moments of eerie enjoyment. Thank you!

  Jodi Bricker

  Acknowledgements

  We would also like to thank, in addition to the authors and

  narrators who donated their time, stories and voices to the project, Bill Bricker for creating the fantastic cover art, and Denise Brown for all of her help and patience in preparing for publication. Thank you!

  Contents

  Fifteen Minutes

  by Lonnie Bricker

  Unintended Consequences

  by Heath Stallcup

  The Truth About Daniel

  by Karen E Taylor

  Haunted Swamp

  by Doug Dandridge

  Yes, Rindy, There Is a Santa Clause

  by TW Brown

  Wave, Wind and Blade

  by Jason Kristopher

  Gansters

  by Heath Stallcup

  Little Bite

  by TW Brown

  Long Night

  by Jodi Bricker

  Blood and Sand

  by Jason Kristopher

  Sphere of Jacob

  by Health Stallcup

  Please Don’t Die

  by Lonnie Bricker

  Midnight Sun

  by Doug Dandridge

  The Art of Steaming

  by Jason Kristopher

  The Tragic Tale of Chris and Ernie

  by TW Brown

  Zombie Store

  by Ben Kraus

  1

  Fifteen Minutes

  By Lonnie Bricker

  "So, that doctor-patient confidentiality thing is for real?" Jed settled back in the cushioned leather chair and looked around.

  Doctor Johnson had no need to follow his patient's gaze to know the young man was taking in the certificates, diplomas, and awards mounted in sterling silver frames on the white walls of his office, mementos of a lost life. In the spaces between, mahogany shelves displayed books with titles ranging from, Understanding the Abnormal Mind, to, Investing With Confidence. The white-haired doctor straightened the sleeves of his suit that, while starting to show the signs of its age, cost more than Jed made in a year, then smiled across the small table between their twin smoking chairs. "Yes, Jed, it's real." Doctor Johnson's reassuring smile had logged thousands of patients and enough billable hours to put his daughters, all three of whom had disappeared soon after, through Ivy League universities.

  "You read all those, doc?"

  He had, when all the awards had still meant something. "Remember, Jed, during our sessions, the focus is on you."

  Jed snickered. "Yeah, betcha did."

  Doctor Johnson opened the leather-bound journal on his lap and scribbled a note, reminding himself to ask his secretary why she had not shown the patient into his office. The doctor felt, rather than saw the young man lean forward in his chair, anxious over what he might be writing. He laid down his pen. "I apologize, Jed, I should have asked. Do you mind if I take notes?"

  "You writing about me?"

  "They will help me recall the details of our session when I transcribe it. If you prefer that I not take notes, however, I will refrain."

  "Nah, feel free, doc."

  "Thank you, Jed. I appreciate the trust you are placing in me." His thoughts went back to his secretary. There really was no excuse for it, even if Jed was the final patient of the day.

  "I wanted to eat Brandi when she was six, but Lizzy said five was better," Jed said in the same flat tone Doctor Johnson used when discussing the size and color of his bowel movements with his physician.

  "Your daughter, Brandi?"

  Sinking back into the leather chair, Jed grinned. "Yup. Got that from your notebook?"

  "You filled out a questionnaire." Doctor Johnson jotted down another short note. "If you are saying that you and your wife are planning to eat your daughter, I am impelled to inform you that patient confidentiality does not extend to allowing you to harm someone."

  "Relax, doc, no need to get your panties in a bunch. We already did it," Jed said, pulling a pack of cigarettes from a pocket of a jacket that pretended to be leather, but which, to the doctor's practiced eye, was as fake as the boy's hair.

  "You can't smoke in here."

  Flipping the pack over, Jed knocked out a cigarette and placed its brown filter between his lips. "Ya get a lotta patients tellin' you they've eaten their daughter, doc?"

  "I will not speak of my other patients with you, Jed. Just as I would not speak of you to one of them."

  The young man pulled a disposable lighter from his jacket. "Yeah, probably a bunch of nutjobs anyway." With a flick of his thumb, Jed lit the cigarette.

  His objection stated, the doctor took the small marble ashtray from an end table next to his chair and offered it to Jed. He'd long ago decided to keep one within easy reach, because, despite laws to the contrary, he never stopped a patient from smoking. Besides, it had been five years since the type of patient who might complain about his office smelling like an ashtray had walked through his door.

  Jed sneered as he
accepted the black, white-veined ashtray. "Lizzy and I, we are a match made in heaven. She was a cheerleader, and I was on the football team." Leaning toward the doctor, he spoke in a conspiratorial tone. "We did it once in the girl's locker room right before a game. She is so hot. Smart too. Reads all the time. Books too, not just magazines and internet stuff. According to our school counselor, she coulda picked any college she wanted."

  "She chose not to go?"

  "Heroin chose for her. Just like her mom with that." Jed took a long drag off his cigarette. "This whole thing, it was her idea. Your ex smart, doc?"

  "We are here to discuss you, Jed." She was. He had to assume that was why she'd left him five years ago. Amy had stood by his side during the trial, never once doubting him, publicly anyway, right up to the point when the judge announced his ruling.

  Jed exhaled, blowing acrid smoke toward the ceiling. "Yeah, I can respect that. Anyway, it was Liz's idea. She was watching one of those reality shows, and said that all those people did to get famous was have sex on camera. I said we should be famous then, 'cuz we'd done that lots of times." One corner of Jed's mouth twitched. Apparently uncomfortable, Jed shifted in the chair, adjusting his hips.

  The doctor caught the movement, along with the bulge in the young man's pants, and chose to concentrate instead on his notepad.

  "Liz said we'd never get remembered forever with just a viral video. Said we had to have more if we were going to be bigger than Lizzie Borden." Jed shrugged. "What can I say, doc, my woman dreams big. She wants something permanent, like Charles Manson, or the Zodiac Killer."

  "You must have great confidence in her abilities."

  "Yeah, and not just in bed." Jed took another long drag off his cigarette. "She had Brandi just over five years ago. I didn't wanna like the kid."

  "It's natural for a father to want to protect, and love his daughter."

  "Yeah. Brandi knew her abc's, and she was prettaaay. She could charm your wallet outta your pants in under a minute, doc. She was gonna make a heckuva cheerleader." Jed used his current cigarette to light his next. "You famous, doc?"

  "Let's keep the focus on you, Jed."

  "Yeah, Liz read about you. Shame that judge believed that other guy, what was his name…" Jed made a show of exhaling smoke. "…Gold or something like that." He snapped his fingers. "Silver."

  The doctor knew, of course, that Jed was trying to goad him. This knowledge did not keep it from working. His pen moved across his notepad, scribbling hate in a slow, orderly fashion he hoped maintained the appearance of composure. Mentally, however, he seethed. Five years later, and the world still hadn't forgotten. "Is that why you chose to see me, Jed, my notoriety?"

  "Did you steal the guy's research, like the judge said, doc?"

  Doctor Johnson closed his journal with snap. "I believe it may be time for you to leave, Jed."

  Jed held up both hands in apology. "I'll stop. Besides, Liz didn't believe it anyway. She says you were the smarter one."

  "If you expect this session to continue, we will not follow this line of discussion, Jed."

  The young man smirked. "We gave her a special pancake breakfast. It's her favorite." Jed exhaled smoke from his nostrils. "Lizzy filmed it all. We got video from conception to end."

  Doctor Johnson opened his notebook.

  "We got video from other people too. You know, from parties and stuff. Liz thought the more people who could say they knew Brandi, the better. Add to the appeal."

  "Were the other people aware of your plans?"

  Jed snorted. "Hell no. Theyda called child services. Once she finished her pancakes, we took her out back. I got her a puppy."

  "A puppy?" Doctor Johnson startled himself with the question.

  "Yeah. We'd hid it at Liz's sister's place just up the block. Lizzy ran and got it while Brandi ate. We wanted it to be the best day of her life—figured it was only fair. She called the pup Reggy, after her stuffed hippo. She played with that stupid dog all morning, 'till they both crashed in front of some Disney movie." Jed stared blankly at one of the bookcases in the room. "The Lion King."

  Doctor Johnson raised the fingers of one hand from his lap, signaling for Jed to pause. "Let me stop you there for a moment, Jed. Patient Confidentiality forbids that, barring a court order, I discuss these sessions with anyone. I feel obligated though, to advise that if you did commit a crime, you should surrender yourself to the authorities."

  Jed did not turn from his contemplation of the bookcase. "Yeah, that's not happening, doc." When he spoke again, it was through a cloud of light gray smoke. "You never wrote any books… I mean after."

  "What did you do while your daughter was asleep?" Doctor Johnson said, ignoring the question.

  Jed snorted. "What we always did; we had sex. After that, Liz went and got McDonalds for lunch and we got started. I took the pup off Brandi and carried her into the kitchen. Had to put the pup in her bedroom before we got done though, kept whining."

  "How long ago was this?" Doctor Johnson paused in his note taking.

  "Yesterday. We planned it for the day before our appointments. I wanted to poison her, but Liz said we would eat the poison too. She said an axe was the way to go. Like they do it in movies."

  "Am I to understand that you did this for fame?" Doctor Johnson couldn't keep the shock from crowding at the edges of his voice. "Do you know the difference between fame and infamy, Jed?"

  "Sure. One's good, one's bad, but that don't matter."

  "Why do you say that?"

  "We're gonna be so famous they're gonna make a whole new category."

  "You killed your daughter." Doctor Johnson realized he'd stopped taking notes. With a silent curse, he struggled to catch up.

  Jed lit a cigarette off the butt of the previous, and leaned forward. "Yeah, then ate her. Thought I made that clear."

  "Raw?" Doctor Johnson surprised himself with the question.

  "Ha! Good one, doc. Nah, we roasted her in the oven. Liz used a Cajun recipe for pork she found online."

  "And this was the plan? To kill and eat your daughter then come to see me the next day?" Suddenly, Doctor Johnson wished he were on the other side of the three foot of solid wood that was his desk.

  "Yeah. Internet and movie fame are good, but to be like Jack the Ripper, we need books."

  Doctor Johnson's gaze flicked involuntarily to his shelf. "I'm not certain I understand."

  "We want you to write a book about us." Jed placed a USB memory stick on the small mahogany table between them. "This is the last video. Just in case you think I'm making the whole thing up." Jed motioned with his chin toward the laptop on the doctor's desk.

  Though his heart threatened to force him into a sprint with each step, Doctor Johnson took the thumb drive and moved calmly around his desk. He plugged it into one of the laptop's USB ports and chose, "play video" when the laptop asked what he wanted to do. A dirty kitchen appeared on the screen, filmed from a stationary, waist-high camera. A five-year old girl on the cheap dining room table looked like Jed, albeit softened by the innocence of youth her father had not possessed in twenty years, if ever.

  A woman with bottled-blonde hair, wearing a belly shirt and one-size-too-small shorts stroked the girl's face. Jed stood beside the table, a large axe resembling something from a Viking movie in one hand. The woman moved her hand away and said, "Ok, baby, do it."

  Using two hands, Video Jed raised the axe overhead. "Love ya."

  "Love ya too, now do it." The woman, presumably Liz, shielded her eyes with one hand.

  Doctor Johnson was hard-pressed to say which came first, his puking in the small trashcan beside his desk, or the hollow thud like a cantaloupe landing on the kitchen floor. He looked up in time to see the woman begin dismembering the chubby corpse with an electric knife. Jed dropped the axe and picked up a plastic mop bucket, in which he placed the head. "You're gonna mop that up," the woman said.

  After the second flailing attempt to press stop failed, Doctor Johnson
snapped his laptop closed.

  "Yeah, I'll give you a minute." Jed slid back in the chair and smoked.

  The doctor wiped his mouth with a handkerchief and grabbed a bottle of scotch he kept hidden in a desk drawer. Not trusting himself to pour, he drank straight from the bottle.

  "Liz documented everything."

  "Where is your wife now, Jed?"

  "At another shrink's office."

  "What psychiatrist is she seeing?"

  "Someone you know."

  "Silver." The name turned the scotch to ashes in his mouth.

  "Liz said you were smart."

  Fighting to keep down what he'd just drunk did not keep Doctor Johnson from pouring two more fingers of scotch into a tumbler. "I'm not sure what you mean."

  "What I mean is this." Jed pulled a smartphone from his fake leather jacket and, after a couple of taps, handed it to the doctor.

  The screen displayed a woman's head and face. The doctor downed a mouthful of the scotch. He'd hoped never to see his ex-wife again. Freckles on one side of his Amy's face disappeared in an ugly, purple bruise that threatened to close her left eye. "What have you done to her?"

  "Just the bruise you see, so far. Quite a fighter." Jed pulled out a baggie containing what looked like beef jerky. "Want some?"

  Even with his arms resting on his desk, the doctor's hands shook. The walls spun, and if he'd not already been sitting, the doctor would have fallen.

  Jed tore at a piece of jerky with his teeth.

  "You will let Amy go if I write a book about what you've done?"

  "Sure, if that's what you want. Or…" Jed chomped happily on his beef jerky, "imagine the chance we're offering you. And, all you gotta do is get a book published before the other shrink does."