Night Monsters
Authors: Lee Allen Howard
Tags: #Horror, #Zombies, #Vampires, #Suspense, #Thriller, #Monsters, #ghosts
NIGHT MONSTERS
Four Stories to Read
With the Lights On
by
Table of Contents
Wyatt is looking for a no-strings fling. When he meets the beautiful and sexually voracious Natalie, all his fantasies come true… until he discovers that unseen strings are more entangling than he bargained for.
Petie’s first sleepover seemed like a good idea in the daylight. But after dark at Nate’s house, he can’t fall asleep. Braving the terrors of the night to make it home, he finds he must face the worst thing that could happen—and sacrifice what he treasures most to save his parents from a horrible fate.
After a late night at work helping hospitals handle the strange flu sweeping Pittsburgh, Terry finds he’s run out of options to get himself home. Searching for a working phone to call his wife, he encounters a deserted diner—and another way to stem the tide of disease. Chilling!
Justin wants to be cool like Drew, so he tags along to throw corn at cars on Halloween night. When a 1970 GTO Judge stops on the country road and its ghastly occupants pursue them, he wishes he’d gone trick-or-treating instead.
More Dark Fiction from Lee Allen Howard
• “MAMA SAID”
• DESPERATE SPIRITS
• THE SIXTH SEED
• SEVERED RELATIONS
• “STRAY”
• THOU SHALT NOT…
Savoir-Faire
W
yatt Bell hadn’t been with a woman in over a year, but Natalie Trattoriano was well worth the wait. He met her at the fall E-Commerce Services Fair while he was staffing his company’s booth. She sashayed to the table in a blood-red suit and leaned over the sales literature.
“I wonder if you could help me,” she said, and he no longer cared what he sold that day, so long as he sold himself to her. He managed to make a date for a drink in the hotel lounge that evening.
After a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon and some stimulating conversation, she raked her glistening nails across his palm and smiled salaciously.
Sooner than he thought possible, they were up in his room, peeling off each other’s clothes. Their sex was hot, savage, ravenous.
Afterward, she caressed his navel while he drew his fingers through her jet-black hair. He was waiting for her to answer this question: “Stay the night?”
“I’d love to,” she said. “There’s just one problem.”
“What’s that?” Right then, he could imagine no such thing as a problem.
Natalie stroked his navel and said: “I’m . . . married, Wyatt. Married.”
• • •
That was the first time Natalie mentioned her husband to Wyatt, but it wasn’t the last. In fact, every time they were together—even in bed—she mentioned Vince. Hers weren’t venomous, hate-filled words about a man who cared less about her. Vince sounded like a nice, sensitive guy who was fond of her but who had a few problems.
Vince worked nights, so Natalie rarely saw him. When she was up, he was asleep, and when she was tired, he was getting ready for work. They never ate together. Worse yet, they never slept together. For someone as sexually voracious as she, Wyatt could understand her frustration.
However, Wyatt had no desire to discuss their issues when Natalie was writhing beneath him in his bed after work. It was time to concentrate on the task at hand.
She gasped and he grinned, panting.
“Ohh, Wyatt. . . . Vince could never have done it twice.”
Wyatt’s smile faded, and he threw back the sheet.
“What’s wrong?” she said, drawing the covers over her breasts.
“Must you always compare me with him?”
“Who, Vince?”
“Who else?” He yanked up his boxers. “We can’t even make love without you bringing him into bed with us.”
Natalie sat up. “I’m sorry, Wyatt. I didn’t know you were so sensitive about him.”
“Sensitive?” He huffed. “Why do you go on about him? Did you ever think if he really loved you, he’d want to satisfy you sexually?”
Crestfallen, she glanced out the door, down the hall.
He stood at the end of the bed, arms crossed over his chest. “If you love him so much, why are you having an affair?”
“I don’t know. He’s a wonderful man, and he’s really good to me, and I wish things were different between us. I know if you met him, you’d really like—”
“
Meet
him?” Wyatt snapped. “I don’t want to meet him for God’s sake, I can’t stand him. I don’t ever want to hear his name again. I wish we were rid of him, and it was just you and me.”
“Wyatt!” She flung back the covers and reached for her black bra. “Unless you want this to be the last time, don’t talk about Vince that way again.”
Wyatt grumbled, pulling on an old Penn State sweatshirt. He looked squarely into her coal-black eyes. “And unless
you
want this to be the last time, don’t mention Vince in my bed again.”
She frowned but said nothing more. When she finished dressing, she left Wyatt’s apartment to go home to Vince.
• • •
The following evening, Wyatt glanced out the window of his office at Symplex Systems and straightened the contracts on his desk. It was after the autumn time change and already getting dark.
He studied the appointment column of his planner and then glanced at his watch. One more meeting and he was done for the day. New business with a guy named Levesque from some company with an acronym he couldn’t interpret.
He started a fresh pot of coffee and carried his presentation materials to the front conference room. David the receptionist was shrugging on his coat.
“Wyatt, I’m gone for the day. I set the phones on night-ring. I know you’ve got a late appointment, so listen for the door.”
“All right, good night.”
David pushed through the front doors and disappeared into the parking lot.
Wyatt prepared the laptop for the multimedia demo. He retrieved the coffee and two clean Symplex mugs. He was arranging the tray on the conference table when someone knocked on the reception desk. Wyatt straightened his tie before entering the foyer.
A slender man over six feet with short, dark hair and finely sculpted features stood holding his overcoat.
“Mr. Levesque? Wyatt Bell. Welcome to Symplex Systems.”
Levesque shook firmly with a large, strong hand.
“Let me take your coat.” Wyatt hung the heavy wool wrap in the hall closet.
“Won’t you step into the conference room? I’ve got everything set up.” Wyatt preceded Levesque into the room.
“Coffee?” Wyatt asked.
“No thank you, but you go ahead.” Levesque’s voice was deep and soft with a vague European accent, and when he smiled, his dark eyes sparkled.
Wyatt poured coffee in his mug and stationed himself beside the laptop.
Levesque described the current operations of Ex Libris Corporation, a large book chain, and explained why their Data Services Division was interested in a Symplex solution. Wyatt listened attentively, commenting and asking for clarification when necessary.
He dimmed the overhead lights and started the recorded presentation. As the familiar sounds and images about scalable servers played on the slim screen, Wyatt daydreamed about Natalie, how her hair cascaded across the pillows, the way she bit her lower lip, the long, sharp nails she dug into his back. . . .
“I can see you’re preoccupied,” Levesque said.
Wyatt snapped to attention. The presentation had ended and he hadn’t noticed.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Levesque. It’s been a long day.”
“Then you’ve had no dinner.” Nothing in Levesque’s tone or expression betrayed annoyance. “Tell you what. I need this information by tomorrow, but why don’t you relax for a while, have something to eat—I’ve already eaten—and then meet me for a drink, say, around eight.”
Wyatt was grateful for Levesque’s understanding. He found himself saying, “That sounds like a great idea. You know Brochere’s?”
“Fine place. I’ll see you there.”
Wyatt stood with Levesque, helped him with his coat, and watched him disappear into the darkness outside.
What a nice guy
, he thought, gathering his materials for their evening meeting. He would try harder to win his business.
After shutting down the laptop and flicking off the lights, Wyatt locked the front doors and headed for his car.
• • •
At his apartment, Wyatt pressed the message button on his answering machine. Something sultry from Natalie. Then her voice turned businesslike, and she apologized that she couldn’t come over that evening.
“You’ll just have to save up double for next time,” she whispered. “I’ll be waiting. . . .”
He wanted to call her back and leave her a dirty message, but he didn’t dare. He called only her cell phone, when she was at work.
Wyatt showered and ate leftover Chinese food. Then he left for Brochere’s.
The lights were dim inside the lounge, where a few stragglers remained from happy hour. Wyatt was glad he wouldn’t have to shout to make himself heard. He found a secluded table big enough to spread some literature.
A minute later, Levesque strode past the bar, heading toward the table. He smiled warmly, and Wyatt stood to greet him.
“Feeling refreshed?” Levesque shed his overcoat. He was still wearing the same fine wool suit, but had taken off his tie.
My kinda guy
, Wyatt thought. “Yes. I apologize again.”
“No need. I enjoyed the break myself.” Levesque sat down.
Wyatt waved the waiter over. He ordered drinks and they got down to business.
Ex Libris was looking for an Internet commerce firm to build a business-to-consumer Web site to sell limited edition books, CDs, and digital media. Wyatt rambled through his spiel as if the Symplex solution was designed expressly for Levesque and Ex Libris.
As Wyatt sipped his Tanqueray and tonic, an approaching figure caught his eye.
Natalie was slinking through the lobby in a black suede miniskirt, red blouse, and beaver stole. Her lissome thighs flexed beneath black hose and, with each long stride, she thrust a patent leather stiletto into the carpet.
Levesque swiveled his chair to see what Wyatt was gaping at.
Tugging off her black leather gloves, Natalie headed straight for their table.
Wyatt no longer cared whether he won Ex Libris’ business; he had talked with Levesque long enough. It was time for pleasure.
Wyatt smiled, but it felt more like leering. He caught Natalie’s eye and, as she swept her gaze to Levesque, he noticed panic in her eyes. Levesque took her white hand, and her features softened.
Turning to Wyatt, Levesque smiled and said, “Mr. Bell, I’d like you meet Natalie Trattoriano . . . my beautiful wife.”
Natalie extended her hand demurely. After hesitating a moment, Wyatt took it. Her fingers were like icicles.
“And please,” Levesque said, “call me Vincien.”
“Or Vince,” Natalie added.
They all sat down. Wyatt remained speechless, staring into Natalie’s impenetrable black eyes as Vincien Levesque ordered another round of drinks.
“I hope you don’t mind Natalie dropping by,” Vincien said. He gazed at her affectionately, and she caressed his handsome face.
“No, not at all,” Wyatt said and choked on his own spit.
“Mr. Bell is with Symplex Systems, darling. They’re going to build us an Internet ordering system.”
Natalie looked insincerely impressed.
“Is there someone you can call?” Vincien asked him. “To join us for drinks, I mean.”
Wyatt’s heart ticked like a stopwatch. “Ah, no, unfortunately, there isn’t.”
Vincien appeared genuinely pained. “I’m sorry to hear that. You’re welcome to stay and chat with us. We’d love to have you, wouldn’t we, darling?” Vincien slipped his arm around her.
Natalie pursed her lips sweetly.
“It’s just as well,” Wyatt said, collecting his literature. “I need to get right on this to come up with the best solution for Sex Libris.”
“Sex?” Natalie said, arching her eyebrows.
“What!” Wyatt said.
“Sex,” Vincien said. “You said ‘
Sex
Libris.’”
Wyatt felt burning shame creep up his neck and flood his face. “Did I?” He struggled into his jacket.
“You most certainly did,” Natalie said, smirking.
“Slip of the tongue,” he rasped, averting his eyes.
“Why, Mr. Bell, you
are
preoccupied.” Vincien grinned like an alligator, stretching out his hand.
He didn’t want to, but Wyatt shook it, braying his good-byes.
