Authors: Tony Monchinski
Tags: #norror noir, #noir, #vampires, #new york city, #horror, #vampire, #supernatural, #action, #splatterpunk, #monsters
A PERMUTED PRESS book
Published at Smashwords
ISBN (Trade Paperback): 978-1-61868-369-4
ISBN (eBook): 978-1-61868-368-7
I Kill Monsters: The Revenants
by Tony Monchinski
All Rights Reserved.
Cover art by RavenKult: George Cotronis
To Bruce Micucci
“I’ve come to make the sinners bleed”
Kane, the Wrath of God
Table of Contents
So, this is the mighty ‘Boone’ then? He
doesn’t look the least bit frightening, not stretched out on the
rack like that.
You must admit he’s an amazing physical
Look at him. His build, like a young
. And couldn’t you have put more
clothes on him?
What’s the matter—jealous?
Of him? Definitely not.
Don’t laugh. How fast he’s healed. Not so
long ago, he was on death’s door.
Oh, there’s something wrong with this one,
that’s for certain. Better he had been left to die.
Quiet. He’ll hear you. No, not him.
I’m entitled to my opinion.
Yes, you are. But sometimes it’s best to keep
it to oneself. My, I wonder how he tastes.
is what killed
Kreshnik. Or have you forgotten?
I know, I know. Forbidden fruit. Doesn’t it
excite you though, even in the slightest?
Not in the least.
Look at the size of his—
Oh enough already! He’ll regain consciousness
The moment he stirs, we’ll summon the Dark
And hopefully Colson will convince him before
that. Best he changes his mind, dispatches this one before he
No, I think he has plans for this one,
Amid the bustle of mid-morning, of men and
women hurrying to-and-fro on foot and bicycle, a man sat alone at a
table of an outdoor café.
It was funny, Jay thought, the things that
were expensive over here versus the things that were expensive back
in the States. A glass of orange juice, for example, cost a lot
more here than at a diner where he came from. Not that money was
ever going to be a real concern again; they had all they’d ever
On the table in front of him were his
cigarettes, an ash tray, and a cup of coffee. He would have liked
to have had a little something for his girl when she arrived, but
he didn’t. He’d even walked by the flower market on his way over
this morning, seeing what they had for sale. It’d been kind of
early when he’d passed through, a lot of the vendors were still
setting up. The season was passing, and each day there were fewer
fresh flowers to choose from, more wooden tulips and that sort of
thing. Jay wondered if the people who lived in this city all their
lives had wooden tulips at home. If maybe those were just for the
He smoked one of his cigarettes, sipping at
his coffee between drags. Jay liked coffee here in Europe. To him,
it was almost as strong as Espresso back home. He wondered if maybe
it was just this place or if all the coffee on the continent was
Home. What did that word even mean anymore?
Born in Guatemala, Jay had spent most of his life in New York City.
He thought of home as anywhere his woman was. He was five and a
half feet tall and dark skinned, sporting a Caesar haircut. Maybe,
he thought, he stuck out just a little bit, but not too much. His
girl more so, definitely.
He’d found the Europeans by and large a
polite bunch. This was an international city and they were used to
a variety of people, wouldn’t stare. He and Tisiphy were getting
along in their new surroundings just fine. She would fit in
wherever she went. Most of the people here spoke enough English
that he got by alright.
He glanced at his watch. It’d be the middle
of the night back home.
Jay exhaled, tapping his ashes into the tray
on the table. Everybody seemed to smoke over here. What was it
Boone had said to him, about his choice of smokes,