Nightshades (The Monster Stalker #4)

Prologue

Six months ago

I was always told that nothing good happens in the dark. All the bad and scary things that make people lock their doors take place at a devilish time of night.

It’s why I stay in the dark. It’s why I hide myself in the shadows where I belong.

I am what everyone fears.

It’s my six-foot-six-inch frame. It’s the full-body tattoos. It’s the black out of my eyes. I am judged, tried, and more often than not, tested to see if anyone could ever win against me.

I am not kind. I hold no patience. I am not a good man.

What I look like on the outside is how I feel on the inside—chaotic and full of rage. I’m the Sergeant at Arms, the leading enforcer for the motorcycle club Shallow Sinners. We’re one percenters. The kind the world fears and hates.

And we make most of our moves in the dark.

The vibrations from the motorcycle humming between my legs have my cock hard and my blood filled with lust. Even the sound of the exhaust strokes the Jacob’s Ladder and Prince Albert piercings I have.

I pull into the lot in front of the clubhouse, the music pounding against the walls. The laughter is almost as loud as the the glass bottles breaking. Party must be going well if I can hear all that from outside.

Off to the right, I see one of the members fucking his old lady against the wall. Her skirt is hiked around her hips, panties pushed to the side, and her moans are echoing through the woods that surround us.

I’ve buried many bodies in these woods. It’s my own personal graveyard.

My trophies.

Bad people deserve even worse deaths, and that’s why the Devil created me.

The front door to the clubhouse swings open, slamming against the wall. Another chip of cement where the door handle meets the side of the clubhouse falls to the ground. I’ve been telling Prez for the last few years that this place needs a remodel, but he doesn’t want to invest.

It will be too late when this shit hole crumbles around us.

“Hey, Nightmare,” Chelley, one of the biker bunnies, shouts for me in her thick New York accent.

I don’t bother getting off my bike yet. I love the feeling of her between my legs too fucking much. “What do you want, Chelley?” I know what she wants. I don’t typically fuck the biker bunnies. I’m more interested in killing than fucking, but tonight, I think I’ll make an exception.

I killed a man who was raping his kid. I think that deserves celebration.

She blows a big pink bubble from the chewing gum she’s smacking, then pops it with one of her sharp fingernails. “Want to meet me in the back? I can show you a good time, Nightmare.”

She and the other ten bunnies inside right now.

Taking a cigarette from my pocket, I place it between my lips, light it, and inhale as deeply as I can before blowing out the smoke.

“Go on, then.” I lean forward, crossing my arms on the handlebars. “Go get ready for me. I’ll be there in a minute.”

“I’ll get ready for you, baby,” she purrs, biting the corner of her lip. “I’ve seen what you’re packing. You aren’t going to be easy to take.”

“No,” I grunt in agreement. “I won’t be. And I’m not going to lick a pussy that don’t belong to me neither. So go get ready.” I blow out another thick cloud of smoke, staring her down with black-filled eyes. “I don’t have all night.”

Chelley blows another bubble, walking down the sidewalk in her red high heels before disappearing into the dark.

I turn off the bike, swing my leg over, and kick the stand with my boot. Already, my hard cock begins to fall limp from not feeling the vibrations of the engine. Not even the sounds of one of my MC brothers fucking his wife causes my dick to stir.

If she isn’t screaming, if she isn’t crying, if there isn’t the least amount of terror involved, I can’t get it up. I need pain. I need fear. I need to see them question if their life is flashing before their eyes.

I’m different than the rest of the MC. They don’t crave violence the way I do, but they don’t run away from it either. Sometimes, I catch a glow in their eyes, or one of them will growl, but I tell myself I’m imagining it.

Must be the side effect of my psyche breaking.

Another familiar growl sounds from the two fucking. She has her hand over his mouth while she buries her face into his neck. Every thrust becomes more desperate.

Flicking my cigarette on the ground, I stomp the embers out with my steel-toe boot and start my stroll into the dark to meet Chelley. I’ll be able to fuck her. I just need to think about the way that rapists blood felt on my hands when I gutted him.

“Excuse me! Excuse me. So sorry to bother you. Do you mind helping me out?”

A voice I don’t recognize comes from behind me.

I stop in my tracks, sighing at yet another inconvenience. “I do mind. I have plans. Keep walking that way.” I point behind me, back towards the entrance. “The clubhouse will help you.” I take another step when something sharp pokes me in my side.

“Sorry. I don’t want the clubhouse, Nightmare. I only want you.”

The voice becomes distorted, and my vision begins to sway. I lose my balance as if I’ve drunk an entire bottle of gin.

“You’re going to be perfect for the experiments. I can’t wait to see what you get turned into. We’ve been watching you for a while now, and we love your…tendencies.”

I do my best to spin around, but that only causes my balance to be worse. “I’m going to fucking kill you,” I growl on a slur.

“I look forward to you trying.”

My eyes roll to the back of my head as the drug he dosed me with takes full effect.

“Timber,” he says with a little too much glee. “The bigger they are, the harder they fall.”

Everything fades into the same darkness I’ve lived in my entire life.

Present day

I’m not the same man I was when they locked me in here.

I’m much worse.

I’m angrier. Stronger. Taller. My temper is shorter. There are so many changes made to my body that I can’t comprehend. I don’t understand what happened to me, but what I do know is that I’m going to get out of here.

The humanity in my soul is numb. I no longer feel that small speck of reason that tells me to stop, that makes me question if what I’m doing is right.

It’s gone.

And I’m so thankful.

Nothing will stop me from becoming the nightmare everyone has thought me to be. I’ll be worse.

“Sha-ade,” one of the scientists sing-songs into the intercom system.

I growl as I tilt my head up, staring into the bulletproof, shatterproof windows that line my enclosure as if I’m some prime time special they watch every night.

“You know the drill,” he tsks. “Stand please. We think you have reached your max form.”

Ah, yes.

My form. The one they have changed with DNA that does not belong to me. After being tied down day after day and experimented on, I suppose they finally got what they wanted from me.

According to the scientists, I am part rhino, nightmare, nightshade, vampire, and anglerfish.

I believe them.

There are a few that are obvious. My fangs prove I’m a vampire. I crave blood as well. So much fucking blood. My mouth waters at the thought. Now, I’ll never have to waste a drop of it like I did in my human form.

I always wanted to know what the iron-infused liquid tasted like, and now, I’ll be able to drink it whenever I want as soon as I get out of here.

Even now, I crave it.

I’m going to drain every fucking person here and leave their bodies to turn to dust.

My rhino traits are the first thing anyone will notice about me.

I have a long horn on my forehead with smaller ones lining my hairline.

While my skin is just as tough as a rhino’s hide, the color is different.

I’m a very dark green. My tattoos are still there, but now there are plant-like roots covering my entire body where my veins would be.

Small leaves with shiny black berries are spotted along my body, but mostly my neck and shoulders.

I’ve noticed that when I get angry, the berry blooms into a purplish flower, and if anyone gets close enough to smell it, they become paralyzed.

A few scientists have learned that the hard way.

The anglerfish DNA is one of the hardest to accept.

This specific fish is known for the light that hangs from its forehead, giving light in absolute darkness to attract prey.

Only female anglerfish have the light. The scientists here spliced that DNA so many times in order to get the desired… appeal.

I’m not sure how my light will be beneficial, considering it is at the base of my cock, which is now hidden inside a mouth of sharp teeth, leaves, and roots.

I guess, in a way, when I have an erection, the mouth opens, and I bloom.

The leaves part to allow my cock to grow to its full length, which has doubled from the experiments.

It’s the nightmare DNA that leaves me confused. I have yet to be able to see what that side of me can do.

“I said to stand!” The speaker crackles, and the interference from his yell causes high-pitched noises to echo in the chamber I’m kept in.

I stay seated on the dirt floor, my arms folded and my elbows on my knees. I chuckle; the dark rasp louder than the speaker ever could be.

“I think I’m done taking orders from you,” I sneer, drifting my hands into the soil.

I don’t know why. I’m listening to my natural instincts now, and my instincts have never once failed me.

“Shoot him with the tranquilizer. We will try again later to see what all he can do now.”

The roots grow from me, slithering through the ground, and the walls begin to tremble.

Soft pops from a gun ring all around me. Roots stretch from my shoulder, shielding me from the drugs they love to pump me with.

I’ve been their freak show for far too long. I think they are right. I have reached my full form.

Being strong means nothing if you hold no power.

And now, I hold all the power thanks to these mad scientists.