The Mourning Woods - 03 (52 page)

“Don’t.” She stopped and looked me in the eye, serious. “You said it yourself. Sometimes we just need someone else to believe in us before we can believe in ourselves. You’re the one who gave me that push.”

“You would have gotten there yourself...”

“That’s just the thing,” she said, interrupting me. “I don’t know that. My other friends, my family...” she trailed off. “It’s hard to explain, but I know what I believe.”

“Oh,” I replied stupidly.

“I just wanted to say...thank you,” she finished, stepping closer, now edging into my personal space. Every
wuss
instinct in my body (of which there are quite a few) screamed at me to run.

No! I wouldn’t do that this time. There might never be another opportunity like this (especially if we all wound up enslaved by Bigfoot).

“You’re welcome,” I said, leaning in closer (and barely believing I was doing so).

This was it. Time to go for the kill, figuratively of course.

Our faces began to approach one another (Oh, yeah, T-minus seven to kissy face!). I looked deep into her eyes. I still couldn’t believe how much she had changed since last I had seen her. Everything about her was different, more confident: her demeanor, her attitude, her clothes, even her eyes seemed to have changed. Gone was the subtle grey they had been. Now they seemed to sparkle, almost like silver.

Our lips were about to touch (YES! This is it!)...

Wait a second...
silver eyes
!?

*
KER-BLAM!!!
*

One second I felt all tingly, almost like I was on fire. The next, I actually
was
on fire.

An explosion of white flame flared around me and I was catapulted backwards. The next thing I knew, I was lying in a pile of trash all the way across the street. Flames covered the front of my body, but through them, I could see her. She stood there, in shock but completely unhurt. A soft white glow surrounded her body. No fucking way!

Unfortunately, it wasn’t over for me. My body subconsciously reacted to the pain. I felt my eyes blacken against my will. My fangs and claws both extended as she started crossing the street toward me. But, I wasn’t done yet.

Oh, no! Not now!

Whatever dark power flows through a Freewill such as myself began to assert itself. I could feel the beast in me pushing its way out. I was starting to change.

“Stay back!” I warned.

But, Sheila just stood there, a mixture of confusion and fear upon her face.

“What are you?” was the last thing I heard her say before I stood and ran like my life depended on it. Both of ours may have.

* * *

“What the fuck happened to you?” Sally asked, taking the cucumber slices off her eyes long enough to give me the once over.

The worst of the damage had already healed, but I was covered in soot and my clothes were charred tatters. Fortunately, the change had subsided before fully taking hold. Getting away from Sheila had apparently been the key to that.

“She’s the Icon!” I shouted, near hysterics.

“Alfonzo, can you leave us for a moment?”

The effeminate little douche made a sniffing noise, but did as told. He walked from Sally’s office and shut the door behind him. Once we were alone, she sat up and said, “Now say that again.”

“Sheila is the Icon.”

“Who?”

“That girl I like.”

“Oh, her,” she replied offhandedly. “How do you know?”

I gestured down at myself. “She blew me across the street.”

“She blew you on the street?”

“
Across!
”

“That is a bit different. Well how did it happen?”

“I tried to kiss her.”

“Really? You dog you!”

“Not funny, Sally.”

“Sorry,” she said, holding up her hands in a placating manner. “Well, it could have been worse.”

“Worse?”

“Yeah, you could have been banging her.”

“Not helping,” I growled. I got up and started to pace, tons of thoughts racing through my head, none of them good. “It’s all coming true.”

“The prophesies?”

“Yes! Me leading our armies in battle, and now this. Despite what I said to Christy, I actually did it. I created the Icon!”

“I’m sure you didn’t create her.”

I trudged over and explained everything. How I had believed in her and how that had somehow sunk in and caused a chain reaction. At last Sally’s eyebrows raised in surprise.

“I take it back. You did create her. Damn.”

“Damn is right.”

“I’m so sorry, Bill,” she said, suddenly losing the attitude.

“So am I.”

“No, I mean I’m
really
sorry.”

“Why?”

“You have a thing for her, don’t you?”

“You have no idea,” I sighed.

“Well, I’ve been doing a little digging. After that whole situation with Decker and Gan, I had Colin send me any information in the archives about this.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Sorry I didn’t tell you, but it all seemed like bad fairy tale bullshit.”

“What did?”

“The Freewill and the Icon...you’re arch-enemies.”

“Historically, yeah. I know that.”

“No,
eternally
,” she said, dead serious. “There are more prophesies about this than you know...hell probably lots more than I could uncover. But, they all say the same thing. You’re either going to kill the Icon, or the Icon is going to kill you.”

“Are you sure?”

She just nodded in reply.

I had no answer to that, not even a clue. I leaned forward on her desk and lowered my head, not wanting to think about it. As I did, something slipped out of the remains of my vest pocket. It fluttered down to the desk.

It was Sheila’s card, somehow undamaged. Perhaps enough of her aura had remained to protect it. Either way, Sally picked it up and read it.

“No fucking way.”

“What?” I asked.

She flipped over the card so I could read it too. I knew she was talking about the title, but the tagline did it for me. It confirmed what I already knew; that this was entirely my fault. I had done it. In trying to be supportive of my dream girl, I had somehow turned her into perhaps my greatest nightmare.

Iconic Efficiencies

We believe you can do better

-Sheila O’Connell, CEO

No fucking way, indeed.

I sank back down in the chair opposite Sally. Sometimes when life decides to shit all over you, it takes a mega-dump. I had seen some dark moments since becoming a vampire, but this was the first time when I could see absolutely no hope on the horizon. Damn. To say that it sucked to be me would be the understatement of a lifetime.

“I have no idea what to do.”

“Same here,” Sally said, sitting across from me. After a moment, she added, “But we’ll figure out something.”

“We?”

“Of course. Partners forever, right?”

“Seriously?”

“One-hundred percent.”

To my surprise, I actually smiled at that. “You know, Sally, for all the times you’re a complete bitch, I could really hug you right now.”

“You could try,” she replied with a smirk. “But I’d kick your ass.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. It was a good feeling. I decided to enjoy it because it would most likely be the last real laugh I was going to have in quite some time.

THE END

Bill Ryder will return in:

Holier Than Thou
: The Tome of Bill, part 4

Coming soon

Can’t wait for more Bill? Follow his ongoing misadventures on Facebook at
http://www.facebook.com/BilltheVampire

Rick Gualtieri lives alone in central New Jersey with only his wife, three kids, and countless pets to both keep him company and constantly plot against him. He has won no literary awards and has received exactly zero accolades for his work in the past, present, and (most likely) future. When he’s not busy monkey-clicking out words, he can typically be found jealously guarding his collection of vintage Transformers from all who would seek to defile them.

Defilers beware!

Rick Gualtieri is also the author of:

Bill the Vampire
(The Tome of Bill, Part 1)

Scary Dead Things
(The Tome of Bill, Part 2)

Bigfoot Hunters

The Poptart Manifesto