Chapter 3
Basil
Fools, the lot of them! No one seems to be able to fix this blasted portal, and now I’m left being the one who has to ensure that it gets properly sealed. Me! The High Boogeyman. The one in charge of transitioning the stolen souls into new monsters.
My feet slosh in the mud as I stalk toward the errant portal. Perfectly new dress shoes are now ruined because my staff can’t manage to do their jobs. Loosening my tie and rolling up my sleeves, I huff out a frustrated breath, grumbling incoherently as I climb the rest of the way up the hill.
Standing before the open portal, I spot the problem immediately. Unfortunately, it means I need to climb all the way through and stitch it back together from the other side. Such a simple fix. Yet, why were my people not able to decipher this themselves?
Frustration quickly leads to anger as tension rides up my spine, building in the base of my neck.
I clench my fists, my elongated nails digging into my palms, and twist my neck.
This is so far beneath my level of concern that I should incarcerate every incompetent being in my command.
In fact, I may do just that. It would serve them right.
If they can’t do their jobs well enough that I need to come and clean up after them, then they deserve to be locked away for a century or two.
Seething, I shed my tie and dress shirt, and kick off my shoes, my exposed charcoal skin practically glowing in the moonlight that casts down upon me. I breathe deeply and catch the faintest hint of something… wonderful.
It’s warm, like the brimstone after a long day, with a hint of citrus.
I’ve never smelled anything like it. My body, as if of its own power, pulls me toward the portal, trying to connect me with the source of this most delicious scent.
The need to be surrounded by whatever it is that is emitting these precious notes takes over.
Ducking my head to allow my horns room to enter the portal safely, I step into it.
The shift through time and space pulls at my core, sucking me through the air as I spin and twist to the other side.
The human side. The transition only takes a moment, but it can be extremely disorienting for the unpracticed.
Thankfully, I have spent many years being the monster under someone’s bed and have come to relish the sensation.
The thrill of emerging in a new place, not knowing who you’ll meet or come up against and how you’ll rip the fear from their souls. It’s unmatched.
I land softly, lying in the space between the floor and the bed frame, arms bent and ready to crawl out. The citrus—no, lemon—scent overwhelms me, filling my nostrils and taking a direct hit to my brain, imprinting itself there. Worming its way into my being, never to be forgotten.
The sounds of soft breathing assure me the person is deep asleep.
Slowly crawling out from underneath their bed, my nails scrape hardwood, leaving gouges that will never come out, to act as a reminder that monsters are among them.
Rising from the ground, I bring myself to my full height and look around the room.
It’s quaint with some plants in the corner by the window and a desk on the wall opposite the bed.
I close my eyes and allow my senses to pull me to hover over them, bringing my horns mere inches from their face as I breathe in directly from the source, sucking in as much of this intoxicating scent as I can.
It’s not until I open my eyes and see the long dark hair splayed across the pillow that I realize the person in the bed is a woman. The shadows dancing across her face highlight her soft features, including a set of beautifully plump lips.
Hanging over her, I know she is different, even if I can’t determine how yet. Her scent aside, I know this is a soul I cannot take. But even so, I need to see her. I need to hear her.
“Welcome to Hell,” I growl, rousing her from her slumber.
Her eyes burst open as fear takes hold, the air filling with her lemon scent turned sour.
My mouth waters as her fear causes her scent to perfume, becoming more intense.
She flails, trying to find purchase in her soft bed, seeking a way out, but there’s nowhere to go. There’s nowhere to hide. Not from me.
Realizing she’s trapped, a scream powerful and melodic fills the air. I swear on my position as High Boogeyman, it is the most beautiful sound I have ever heard.