CHAPTER ONE
Someone once asked Marius Grey what he thought dread tasted like, and he said, with complete confidence, that it tasted like a penny.
The atmosphere fires electric when a monster enters a room. Those hairs standing on end, that sense of foreboding—it all begins with a spark. Copper and metal fried with a charge. Only terribly boring people manage to ignore a thing like that.
“You know, monsters just prefer to torment houses with terrible electricians. Any room smells of metal if wires are laid bare. It’s not supernatural.”
Marius tasted a mouthful of pennies while crouching inside Violet Humphrey’s closet. He could see her through the slats in the shuttered doors leading to her room. Her mother had dutifully shut them without knowing he was hiding behind the rack of dresses and stuffed animals. It had taken great effort to slowly pry them apart and watch over the girl.
“I have it on good authority that most electricians in Orleans Parish are drunks and gamblers. That is why there are so many hauntings.”
“Enough, Mom,” Marius whispered in the dark. “Like with most things, you are only seventy-five percent right. What about monsters in the wild? No electricity.”
“They are exceptions, but you shouldn’t talk back to me. It’s rude.”
There were several unusual things about this particular whispered conversation in an unsuspecting child’s closet. One was that Marius Grey was talking to a disembodied voice. He sat alone with only his book to keep him company. Another was that the disembodied voice belonged to his mother, who was, by all accounts, deceased.
“Leave me alone. I have to watch the girl,” he snapped.
Violet, age seven, slept fitfully with her dirty-dishwater hair sprayed around her pillow. She seemed subconsciously aware of the danger building in the real world as she squeaked and thrashed in her sleep. Marius held his breath, waiting for it to appear. Monsters were patient but only to a point. It should not be long now.
He slowly shifted his weight inside the closet. His left leg was nearly asleep. Moving his body let the blood flow back into it, and pins and needles came along for the ride. It took biting down on his lip to hold in his groans of pain, but hey, whatever worked, right? He would not have little Violet Humphrey fight this battle alone. What kind of monster hunter would that make him?
As if bidden by his thoughts, black tendrils reached out from beneath Violet’s bed. One at first, and then two and three and seven. If you did not know any better, you might think a great inky octopus was emerging from some dark coral home. He wished it were an octopus. Violet probably wished the same thing.
The boogeyman’s body solidified, revealing a long coat made of wispy shadows and a top hat of fine velvet. He breathed in and out, solidifying his form. He stretched bony hands and cracked knobby fingers. Marius spotted a pointed nose and ghoulish grin. His hat was pulled down over his eyes, but every good hunter knew what lay beneath.
“Violet,” the boogeyman hissed in the quiet evening. “Violet Humphrey, awaken and look upon me.”
The mop of hair stirred until she lay right side up. Her petite nose flared naked in the moonlight. She took in a few tentative sniffs and stiffened. A tiny squeak of fear turned into a hiccup in her throat as she rolled over to face the boogeyman. The poor thing clutched her blanket to her chin despite the warm night.
“Look into my eyes, Violet,” the boogeyman said. “Look here, child.”
“No,” she said, sitting up. Her wide eyes peeked out from beneath the curtain of hair in her face. “No, I won’t. I told my baba about you, and she said not to do what you say.”
“You will look, child. How can you not?”
“No way,” Violet said with a quivering voice. She refused to turn away from the boogeyman, but she shut her eyes tightly in protest.
“Hang on, wee one,” Marius whispered. “Almost ready.”
Marius leaned forward, allowing room for his book to slip from his impossibly deep inner pocket and into his hand. The volume felt heavy and reassuring. There was nothing like a good, heavy book to make one feel safer. He searched the pages in the dark until he found the ribbon holding the right spot. There it was—the next blank page.
Standing inside the closet was not the easiest thing. Apparently, Violet loved packing the thing full of toys. Marius’s foot slipped over a ball that would have upended his balance if he had not caught himself by grabbing ahold of a raincoat on its hanger. Luckily, the boogeyman did not hear. He was too busy beginning his wail.
The scream is horrendous, yet parents do not hear it. It was a blessing and a curse if you were like Marius, a monster hunter at the age of twelve. To hear a shriek so hideous was awful, but it was necessary.
It was like a warning siren. The cocking of a gun before pulling the trigger. If Marius was unable to hear the boogeyman’s wail, he might miss his chance. It would put poor Violet in more peril than she already was. When he checked through the slats again, Violet had both hands over her eyes and was weeping.
Holding the book in his left hand, Marius checked his front pocket, the one closest to his heart, for the brick dust he knew was there. He grabbed a heavy helping with his right hand. With a hard kick, the closet door flew open, and Marius emerged, ready to do battle.
The boogeyman turned to him with a sharp snap of his head. His eyes glowed red just beneath the black velvet hat like two demonic headlights on a dark country road. No longer did he shriek. After lighting on Marius, the monster growled the way only beasts do.
“Marius Grey!” the boogeyman said, pointing a long, sharpened finger in his direction.
His terrible jaws opened far larger than any human’s mouth could. They created a gash of a smile, like someone had carved it into a blackened tree and then pried it open with a crowbar. When the maw fully opened, there was no holding back the smell of rot and ruin that came from within. The scent of the putrid remains of the children’s souls he had devoured.
Violet’s eyes were open now, and she looked from the hunter to the boogeyman and back again. The boogeyman ignored her. He was far too preoccupied with the intruder, which was what Marius wanted.
The boogeyman lunged for the hunter, but Marius jumped aside, throwing brick dust into his glowing eyes. The monster threw his head back and shrieked, desperately clawing at his face. Marius ran to Violet’s bed and reached for her. She jumped into his arms without hesitation.
“Who are you?” she asked with a squeak in her throat.
“Marius Grey, monster hunter. Here, hold this and don’t lose my spot.”
Marius handed her the book and put her tiny finger in the page to mark it. The great red volume looked so huge in her arms, but she nodded to him with determination in her eyes. He reached in another pocket for the silver flask of salt.
“I’m going to make a circle with this,” Marius said. The boogeyman was still flailing around, trying to get the brick dust out of his face. It was only a matter of time before he succeeded. “When I do, stay in the circle. Whatever you do, stay inside and don’t look into his eyes.”
He drew a crude salt circle on the floor around Violet and himself. It was just in the nick of time, because the horrid boogeyman rushed toward them, eyes glowing and teeth bared. When he reached the salt, he slammed into an invisible barrier. It was like watching a ghoulish train hit a brick wall.
The creature crumpled to the floor but rose again undaunted. After all, boogeymen are more or less made of mist and fear. There was little time left. If he got the idea to flee out the window, Marius would lose him again for sure. That would mean two weeks of tracking up in smoke.
Marius grabbed the book out of Violet’s hands, opened it quickly, and held the blank page toward the boogeyman. As soon as the monster saw the name written on the page, he shrank away, looking desperately for an escape.
“It’s far too late for that. I’ve got you,” Marius said.
“So says you, monster hunter! Your puny spells don’t…”
“Grab the arm, grab the crook. Stomp the ground until it’s shook. Invisible line, invisible hook. Get the monster inside this book!”
As he finished the spell, the boogeyman wailed. Marius’s book glowed crimson as it sucked the creature inside. All monsters fought the pull, but it was no use. You might as well fight the surge of time or the rise of the sun. The boogeyman’s wispy tendrils reached out to wrap around the railings of Violet’s bed, but they found no purchase. The book sucked every inch of him inside, and Marius shut the cover soundly on top of him.
CHAPTER TWO
The frightened girl still sat in the circle of salt, trembling all over. She was a tiny thing swallowed up in her large nightgown. All skin and bones underneath a purple tent. Violet wrapped her arms around her knees and breathed in shallow, halting breaths. Marius peeked through the tangle of hair and saw her eyes were closed tightly.
“You can open your eyes now,” he said, taking Violet’s hand. “He’s gone now. You are safe.”
Violet’s eyes flew open in alarm. She took in her room, scanning for the monster. When she saw Marius’s book, still glowing slightly from its catch, she backed away a few feet, kicking salt across the wood floor.
“Do you hear that?” she asked.
“Hear what?”
Now that the world was rid of the wailing boogeyman, Violet and Marius heard everything much more clearly. The noise they focused on was the telltale sound of adult footsteps heading their way.
“It’s my parents!”
“Quick! Back to your bed,” he said.
Violet ran to her bed, throwing her covers back. Marius grabbed a rug shaped like an anime cat and tossed it over the circle of salt. His first instinct was to head back to the closet, but there was no time. It was too far away. He had to make a quick decision lest he be caught.
Marius threw a bit of brick dust on the floor leading to the door. With a running start, he slid across the wood. He was immensely thankful he’d left his shoes in Violet’s closet in order to sneak better. Now he wore only socks. By far, the best thing if you wanted to travel fast across polished wood. The dust propelled his body straight for the approaching footsteps. He just hoped he could hit the corner before her parents opened the door.
Much to the hunter’s relief, his shoulder bumped into the corner of Violet’s room just as her mother flung open the door. Marius shrank against the wall as much as he was able. The wood came within an inch of hitting his nose. He held his breath and focused on trying to make himself smaller.
“Violet, honey, what is going on here? We heard a scuffle,” her mother said, sounding both worried and annoyed.
Warm light poured inside from the hallway, creating a rectangle of illumination across the bedroom. Violet’s eyes were wide, and she moved them from her mother to Marius and back again. Her tiny mouth hung open in an uncertain O of surprise.
“Were you dancing again in here?” a fatherly voice said.
A man’s shadow gestured toward the rug covering the salt. When she shot Marius another glance, he shook his head slowly. He held one finger over his mouth. It was the universal kid signal to lie to your parents.
“I had a bad dream,” Violet said finally.
“A dream bad enough to move your rug?” her father asked.
“Um … yeah. A really bad one.”
“Well, that doesn’t make any sense,” her mother said.
“My dream didn’t make any sense,” Violet said with a shrug. “That’s why this doesn’t make any sense.”
“Why did you get up and move the rug?” her mother asked, sounding more annoyed than before. “The truth now.”
“I didn’t move the rug. My dream must have done it,” Violet said.
There was a long pause, in which Marius shifted the still-vibrating book under his trench coat. The light had dimmed to a gentle radiance. Any sight or sound might give him away. Violet shifted her eyes to Marius once again. A small glow flashed in her eyes. The recognition of an idea that could be equal parts bad and good.
“Daddy gave me a Coke before bed!”
The parents’ feet shuffled on the other side of the door. They were quiet as the air shifted in the room. Marius had to admit, it was a great trick. Violet was a smart cookie. When in doubt, throw one of the parents under the bus, and fathers were usually the best targets.
“You let her drink Coke before bed?” Violet’s mother asked. Her voice was rigid. Words came out short and sharp as though she was spitting them through clenched teeth. An anger just barely kept in check in front of the child.
Copyright © 2023 by M.R. Fournet
