American Monsters

“Hey!” Amber shouted over the wail of the alarm. “Hey, bogles! Here we are! Come get us!”

Wet bogle heads popped up and out from around corners, and suddenly the aisles were swarming with them, their little feet splashing in water as they came.

Amber pulled Axton backwards and they ran, past the frozen meats and the chips and the sauces, and plunging down into the wine, spirits and beer section. They got to the very end before stopping and turning, just in time to see the bogles come round the corner like a wave, rolling towards them.

Then the little bastards noticed where they were, saw the bottles of booze all around them, and the wave slackened, and became smaller, and eventually stopped. The alarm cut off. A happy, gurgling cheer rose from the bogle ranks, and Amber and Axton stepped backwards, forgotten about.

It took fifteen minutes of revelry, arguments and carnage before the last bogle slumped to the ground, impaling itself on a broken beer bottle.

“So sad,” Axton said, wiping away a tear. “Such a tragic waste.”

“They wanted to kill you,” Amber reminded him.

“True,” said Axton, “but you can hardly blame—”

Amber slugged him across the jaw and he dropped, unconscious.

“No,” she said. “I guess you can’t.”

She returned to the sports section, found the activewear and picked out a dry pair of yoga pants and a tank top to replace her own ripped, wet clothes, then slipped her feet into a new pair of sneakers. By the time she was dressed, her scales were once again under her control. She took hold of Axton’s shirt collar and dragged him towards the exit.

She was halfway there when she stopped, hauled Axton back a few steps, then let him drop. She wandered over to where Milo Sebastian was tied to a large display table.

“Hey,” she said.

“Hey,” said Milo. Like the rest of him, his dark hair, shot through with grey, was wet. That, combined with the stubble on his square jaw, made him look like a mature aftershave model who’d just emerged from the pool.

“Sorry about the sprinklers,” Amber said.

“That was you?”

“Kinda.”

“And all that singing and screeching?”

“I got them drunk,” she told him. “The bogles. Got them drunk and let them kill each other. Vicious little bastards.”

Milo grunted. “Yeah. Axton?”

She turned one of her fingers into a claw, and cut the ropes. “He’s over there. He was studying them, can you believe it? I get the feeling he knew way too much about their mating habits. Do you know they lay eggs?”

“I do,” said Milo, standing and wiping the slime off his chest. “I do know that.”

“They laid eggs on you, didn’t they?”

“Yeah,” said Milo. “You?”

“Nope,” she said. “They didn’t. They tried, but I got free.”

“You’re lucky. It was … disgusting.”

“I can only imagine,” said Amber. “The clothes section is behind me. You can get yourself a dry shirt. Maybe one that isn’t ripped. I’m going to deliver Axton.”

Milo nodded. “Meet you back at the car,” he said, and walked away.

She dragged Axton out into the parking lot, heard the sirens approaching. The Kingston Valley Fire Department was not the fastest to respond to possible emergencies, it had to be said. Amber dumped Axton behind a wall and used her claw to open a cut on her palm. Blood flowed freely and she turned on the spot, forming a circle of blood around both Axton and herself. When the circle was complete, the blood caught fire, and they weren’t in California anymore.

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THEY WERE IN A castle with high stone walls that vanished into the darkness overhead, walls that were decorated with tapestries and punctured by stained glass. A cold wind blew through the castle, and carried with it the screams and sobbing of the damned. Amber threw Axton from the circle of fire, and he woke as he landed.

It took him a moment to realise where he was, and then he spun, eyes wide.

“No,” he said. “Please.”

Footsteps approached, from one of the five arched doorways ahead of them. Axton tried to scramble back into the circle, but Amber stepped out, pushing him away, as Bigmouth led Fool into the chamber.

The meat beneath Bigmouth’s peeled-back skin glistened like a freshly made wound, and blood still trickled from the hooks that held those layers of skin in place. His lower jaw, reattached to his skull with thread and wire, swung with every step he took. Behind him came Fool, a thing without gender dressed in a patchwork robe, blinded by the lengths of glass that still pierced its closed eyes. Its bald head was covered in ash and its mouth was smeared with lipstick. It bared its glass-shard teeth as it sniffed the air.

“Amber Lamont,” it said. “And … Ooooooh. Axton, Axton, Paul Axton. I remember you, Paul Axton. You tried to cheat my Master. You tried to run.”

“It was a misunderstanding,” Axton said. “I swear that’s all this is, a simple misunderstanding.”

“Then why run?”

“I panicked. I got scared. There’s really no need to—”

Amber smacked him to shut him up. “I need to see Astaroth,” she said. “Just a word. That’s all I want.”

Fool frowned. “Pertaining to what matter?”

“Pertaining to me, Fool.”

“I will tell Lord Astaroth you are here,” said Fool, and tugged on Bigmouth’s chain. Bigmouth scrambled ahead and Fool followed, disappearing through a wide crack in the wall. Amber didn’t know the shortcuts the way Fool did – she barely knew how to take the long way round – so she shoved Axton ahead of her and started walking.

When they got to the giant doors, Fool and Bigmouth were waiting for them.

“Lord Astaroth is ready to receive you,” said Fool.

The doors swung open, and Amber dragged Axton into a large hall with mirrored walls, in the centre of which were ten steps that led up to the throne of the Shining Demon. And there he sat, Astaroth, gazing down at them, orange light swirling like lava beneath his skin.

Axton dropped to his knees. “My Lord Astaroth. Forgive my stupidity.”

Astaroth ignored him, looked instead to Amber. “You grow impatient, it seems.”

Her eyes flickered to Fool, who kept its head down. “Not impatient, Lord Astaroth, just … eager. You sent me to track down my parents, but every time I get close I have to go after people like this.”

“And that upsets you?”