Ghoul Bait
Ghoul Bait
© by Gary L Morton 1991
(1,250 words)
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Firelight tinted the warm Halloween night sky and he muttered as he moved like a bear on the prowl. “Sonny, I really meant it when I said I was goin’ to carve a piece outa you.”

He gazed into the clearing, seeing the shining chrome of bikes on scorched, flattened grass. Leather, denim, tattoos, sweat and grime decorated the mingling figures. A dark future appeared in the drifting wisps of bonfire smoke.

Faces shifted to waxen death masks in the firelight, and then they came to life - scarred, unshaven, and ugly. Familiar faces … laughing faces … the twisted faces of brutal bikers. They aroused anger, causing him to whisper. “Bandits, you thought you dumped me in a gutter grave … especially you, Sonny. But now I'm back and the time is right.”

The bash reached full flight with blaring neo classic metal music and mindless celebration tearing up the clearing. He thought the beer looked far too cool for the swill drinking it, and he remained in deep shadows with a dark river of revenge pouring through his heart.

A new bike rumbled in and when the engine roar died it became apparent that some blond jailbait had hitched a ride on the back. He saw Sonny's acne-pocked face light up like the moon. A moment later, he put his hand on the shoulders of his two burliest bandits. No doubt giving the word that he wanted some private and quality time with her before tossing her bruised flesh to the rest of the wolves.

The gang got nasty and destructive like the flames, most of them getting crazy drunk and wiped on coke and some new street dust. None of them noticed the eyes watching from the bushes, and slowly they got rowdier and out of Sonny's control. Which was okay by Sonny, because he moved in on the young blond and in a short time was leading her off into the woods.


Moving through the pines like a black cat, he came up behind them as the scene developed. Sonny hadn't wasted any time. She was gasping from the hand tightening on her throat, and then she was thrown down as Sonny moved to drop his pants.

Sonny reached down for her then a chain whipped out -- a bolt from the night. It bit into his buttocks. The coil ripped flesh and muscle. A scream rose from his throat and he spun as the chain was yanked back.

Flying to her feet and gasping the girl ran off into the trees. Sonny dropped to his knees, and then an iron came out and knocked his skull.


It was another clearing, a graveyard this time, with rows of busted stones poking out of tall crabgrass and weeds. A classic bikers' acid strychnine glow of dew and moonlight brightened the scene. He held Sonny above the ankles and pressed forward, dragging him over the lumpy ground. His goal being a charnel house set in a hillock.

Warped, bleached wood and rusty iron bars and latches made up the heavy door. A strong breeze set it to creaking. He used a flashlight while he lit the lantern. Moments later shadows swirled like bats and half of the charnel house's interior became visible. It was a huge place, made for war or plagues. Even the cobwebs looked deformed. He checked his bike first. Untouched, it gleamed near the door. Some irons and chains were spiked into the wall a ways inside, and Sonny's body flopped around like a rubbery piece of shit as he dragged it over.


Raw pain rose as brilliance, bringing Sonny to consciousness, and when he tried to move he found himself manacled and chained to a wall.  Sonny had always looked close to death with sunken cheeks, a twisted nose, rough whiskers and long stringy hair … but he'd never been this close.

Sonny saw an agonizing blur, then it became a huge angry bear of a man leaning out of flickering lantern light; it was his old enemy Rico. Vengeful madness glazed Rico's eyes and he held a mint shiny hunting knife.

Before Sonny could release a groan, Rico laid a few boots to him. Then Sonny started wailing as Rico drove the knife into his wrist.


Things weren't turning out to be as much fun as Rico had expected. Sonny was begging, but blood was squirting everywhere and the hand wouldn't come loose. It pissed him off and he started muttering and cursing. “Damn you, damn you! I'm gonna cut off your hand. Shit, I wish I had a butcher school diploma.”

Victory at last, he grinned at the severed hand, and Sonny lay in shock as his blood pooled on the floor. Then a sudden scraping noise startled Rico. Something was moving farther down on the edge of the shadows. “Somebody's in here”, he muttered. “Don't tell me that little blond followed us here.”

It stepped into the light and it wasn't blond, a girl or little. Rico gasped and dropped the gory hand. This ghoulish creature was big … powerful, with a face like machine guns had carved it out of petrified wood. Its eyes were fierce and filmed with red, and its body was thick and lumpy muscle that appeared to be formed of ashen clay and dripping rot.

It moaned hideously and walked straight for him. He scooped up the knife and with a swift thrust planted it directly in the thing's heart. Stopped dead, the ghoul growled as Rico broke the blade of the knife trying to pull it out to thrust again.

Muscles like cold hard clay found a grip on Rico, upended him and threw him up against the wall. He slid to the floor dazed.

Stupefied by the blow … his thoughts reeling in disbelief, Rico watched as the thing kneeled on the floor. It picked up a chunk of rusty metal and began to cut its hand off. The hand tore away slowly, red-and-green goo oozed out and stringy black-and-white flesh snapped elastically.

It walked over to Sonny and ripped the chains out of the wall, then it went back to get its severed hand. It put it against Sonny's bloody stump and the stringy worm-like flesh squirmed as it attached itself. Sonny's face began to twitch, then it turned greenish and his eyes fluttered open.

“Oh-oh, looks like I didn't exterminate Sonny good enough,” Rico thought as Sonny got to his feet and began to step across the floor. His blood running cold, Rico froze. He was too terrified to move. He could only stare as Sonny's eyes became cruel slits.

Sonny reached down and took him by the throat with his new hand. Lifting him slowly he crushed the life out of him.

As Rico fell to the floor dead, Sonny stumbled back, chains rattling on the stone floor as he flailed his arms. His head spun in a whirlpool of black visions, then his brain caught fire and he screamed and gagged as rusty metal tore across his throat.

The most loathsome of monsters hates even itself, and the new graveyard ghoul that owned Rico’s head, and Sonny's body wished it could tear itself apart. Yet it could only sit there and moan. Finally, it rose and turned to its larger master and knew obedience.

. . . . . . . . . . .