Home for Horny Monsters

Hey all! Annabelle back with the next chapter of Home for Horny Monsters!

For those of you who are new to the series, perfect timing! This chapter is considered the first chapter of "Book Two," which means that it is written for new and returning readers. So you can start here, or if you want to have some real fun, go back to Chapter 1 and give the whole thing a read.

As always, I love the support from all of you! Comments, reviews, and messages mean the world to me, so keep them up! I will do my best to keep putting these out on a regular basis as long as you monster lovers keep encouraging me to do so! I got super sick last month, which is kind of why I vanished, but I'm back!

What does Book Two have in store for us? More monsters, more villains, and the return of that strange clock! I hope you like this chapter!

*****

The View From Up Here

In all the time Mike had been alive, he never had much use for home repair. Any issues inside of the house were fixable with a quick call to the landlord, and the worst he had ever dealt with was a dishwasher that had backed up onto his kitchen floor.

However, there was no landlord to call, no problem that could be fixed with the push of a button. It was his house, his problem, and right now, the front of his home was a wreck. The planking had been torn up from the wraparound porch and the railing destroyed when a psychotic witch had hurled Abella across the yard and into the decking. The roof above it had begun to sag, though it was quickly shored up by spare wood that Tink had found. Luckily Abella was crazy strong, and Mike had mostly supervised the reinstallation of the support beams, watching the gargoyle lift the roof up high enough while Tink replaced the old support beams, standing on a ladder while Mike handed her tools.

The little goblin was the picture of home improvement efficiency. By the time he had returned from the greenhouse last week, she had already ordered almost everything they needed to fix the front of his damaged home. Each day brought with it a new shipment of supplies to fix the broken porch, and Tink made the time to show Mike how to help her fix the house.

The bushes had been pulled - the trellis beneath had been removed; the delicate wood shattered by Abella's impact. Tink had found a new trellis online, declaring the Magic Screen the best invention known to man. The shipment was supposed to come in next week, with instructions to leave it at the bottom of the driveway. Mike was no longer taking any chances with deliveries, especially not after Sarah the witch had ended up nearly killing him with such a simple disguise.

Tink was busy taking measurements, making several notes in a small journal Mike had bought for her. She wore a pair of overalls and a white tank top, both purchased in the little miss section of a store for tweens in the mail. The goblin was a whiz on the sewing machine — she had taken in the sides and adjusted the legs so that the clothes were a perfect fit. Her hair had been pulled back into a bright red ponytail, a pencil tucked behind each ear with a third in her mouth. Making another note to herself, she set her pencil down, measured another gap, and then pulled the pencil from between her lips to write down her findings. She wore an ankle brace now, her foot still well enough to be walked on. It had been a struggle to make the little goblin take it easy around the house for a couple of days, but Mike had told her it was Human Law that a wife needed to let her husband care for her.

"Excuse me?" Mike heard a voice and turned around to see a young man holding a box on the front walk. "Mr. Radley?"

"That's me." Mike signed for the package. The delivery driver waited patiently, taking no notice of the little green woman fixing the porch. Mike even looked back to make sure she was there, marveling at how the magical Gaes protected his home. Unless invited inside, nobody would be able to see the magical creatures that lived within.

"Your house is so cool," the driver remarked, taking the paperwork back. "When I was a kid, my friends and I used to dare each other to ring the bell. We all thought it was haunted, but none of us ever got the guts to actually make it to the door."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?"

"I dunno, weird stuff always seemed to happen around here. I know this will sound stupid, you know, kids and all, but one time my friend Billy actually made it to the door. He was going to hit the bell when we heard this woman scream bloody murder at him, so we bolted. I think it was a rabbit under the porch or something, I hear they can scream like people."

"No, it's a ghost. She's a screamer. Does that shit all the time."

The delivery driver's eyes widened, the blood draining from his face. Mike waited several breaths and then winked at him.

"Oh, shit, you had me, you actually had me. Felt like I was ten all over again. Have a good day, man!" He waved, jogging back to his car and driving away. Mike looked at the porch swing, Cecilia rocking gently back and forth with a smirk on her face. The banshee was sort of like a ghost, but she was definitely a screamer.

Mike brought the box inside, carefully unpacking its contents. Satisfied that everything was there, he quickly organized them on the kitchen table. Scooping up the first bundle, he walked out the back door of the house into the garden.

The garden area was built like a courtyard with the wall of the garage to the left. That transformed into the stone wall that surrounded the property, save for the wrought iron gate that gave access to the forest behind the house. In the middle of the yard was a large fountain, and standing in it was the nymph Naia. She had summoned tiny spheres of water that bounced across the surface of the fountain, currently being chased by a pair of determined squirrels. Tossing her greenish-blue hair over one shoulder, Naia winked at him.

"Hello, lover," she said, the skirt of her white gown floating on the water's surface.

"Naia." He had discovered the nymph his first night in the house, a sexual encounter in his bathtub that had swapped a small piece of their souls, binding him to the house as its Caretaker.

"What's that?" She asked, pointing at the small bundle he was holding.

"A couple of things." He handed the nymph a catalog. "First, here's some flowers I thought we could plant by the fountain, along with some pots for them to go in. I brought you the catalogue so that we could pick them out together."

"I love flowers!" Naia hopped up and down, her breasts jiggling pleasantly beneath her gown.

"I also bought you this." He held up the small jewelry box. Opening the lid revealed a small pendant on a silver chain. "It isn't anything special, but it reminded me of you."

"For me?" Naia stared at it, stunned.

"Yeah." Mike lifted the chain and showed her the pendant. In the sun's light, it reflected several different colors. "This is abalone jewelry, it's made from a shell."

"It's beautiful!" Naia turned around, lifting up her hair. Mike fastened it around her neck, taking in her scent while leaning against her. She lifted the pendant to inspect it. "I love it."

"I hoped you would." Mike kissed her gently on the neck. The fountain swelled with water, briefly overflowing on every side.

"Remind me to thank you properly later." Naia pressed her ass into him. "I'm afraid if I take you now, Tink will get angry that you are avoiding work."

"You're one thousand percent correct," Mike said, remembering Tink had bitten him yesterday for surfing the internet on his phone instead of bringing her a box of screws from the garage. "I'll see you tonight."

Naia blew him a kiss, and he walked back through the house to the kitchen, grabbing a couple more items. On the front deck, he turned right and made his way to the porch swing. Sitting quietly on the swing was Cecilia. She wore a pretty white dress with simple black shoes, and her white, sightless eyes stared out into eternity.

"You brought me something?" Cecilia asked.

"I did." Mike held up the large cushion. "Well, it's more for me." Kneeling beside her, he detached the old, ratty cushion from the swing. Cecilia vanished when he pulled it away, and reappeared on top of the new one once he had it tied in place. "This way, I can sit and visit with you for a little longer. The old one was starting to hurt my back."

"Oh, to be alive," the banshee said, touching the new cushion with ethereal fingers. "Sit with me tonight?"

"You can count on it." The first time Mike met Cecilia, she had scared the crap out of him. Now he spent his evenings visiting with her in one way or another. Mike sat on the new cushion, swinging gently a few times. "Oh man, that is so much better."

"I'm glad." Cecilia faded from sight, but the swing kept moving even after Mike got up. Walking into the yard, he looked up at the roof. "Abella?"

The gargoyle appeared in the sky, circling briefly before touching down. Her wings closed around her body, forming a hooded cloak."Yes?"

Mike handed her an iPad. "I got this for you. It has access to Prime Video, Netflix, and Hulu."

"Are those magic words?" Abella asked, inspecting the the screen in her hands. Mike had purchased a protective case for it, the kind that was meant for little kids. He figured the extra wide handles would keep Abella from accidentally cracking the screen. Touching one of the apps on the tablet, her eyes grew wide as the screen flashed, the app now open.

"No, let me show you." Mike instructed her in the usage of the tablet. Abella didn't need sleep, so spent her hours watching TV through the back window of the house. She watched in fascination as Mike explained how to order up the different shows and movies with the touch of a finger.

"This little screen is like magic!" the gargoyle declared, holding it up against the sky.

"And you can take it anywhere. Just don't let it get wet, and if that little battery picture in the corner gets empty, I can plug it in for you." Mike suspected this would happen most nights - the thing only had a battery life of ten hours and it might be worth it to have Tink build Abella a docking station.

Back in the kitchen, Mike looked at the rest of the contents. He had ordered a few power tools for Tink - the little goblin was doing most of her work by hand, and he knew that she could work a lot faster with a few extra modern conveniences.

The last item was in a small jewelry box. As he picked it up, he ran his fingers over the top, wondering if he would even see her. Shaking his head, he stuck the box in a kitchen drawer that contained a bunch of keys, scissors, and tape.

A thud on the wall brought his attention to the giant collection of vines that had framed the window looking out into the back. Smiling, he walked to the fridge and opened it, pulling out a plate with a five pound roll of raw beef that had defrosted overnight. He unwrapped it, tossing the plastic wrapper in the trash can beneath the sink.

Opening the kitchen window, he handed the meat to the hungry vines that waited, watching the Mandragora drag away its snack. Ever since it had eaten the witch last week, the plant had been very docile with him, acting like a puppy dog that followed him around whenever he was out back. The vines would slither around him like snakes, eagerly awaiting a gentle pat or even a rub. Mike felt ridiculous scratching a leafy vine as thick as his wrist, but the plant seemed to like it.

Mike grabbed a pair of orange sodas from the fridge and some plated sandwiches he had made earlier. Walking out front, he approached the goblin from behind. She was bent over, trying to get a stubborn board to lay where she wanted it. He gave her butt a playful slap, which caused her to drop the board on the deck with a clatter.

"Break time," he announced. Tink looked at him, then back at the board, coming to a decision over what was truly important to her. Licking her lips, she followed Mike to the front steps of the house, sitting next to him with her sandwich clutched in both of her little hands.

"This one extra good," Tink told him, mustard clearly leaking from her sandwich. For whatever reason, she had developed an obsession with trying mustard on all of her food; eggs, chicken, toast, it didn't matter. Licking mustard off her fingers, Mike couldn't help but smile at the cute picture before him.

"Thought you would like it." Mike bit into his own sandwich, then took a drink of his soda. "Looks like we still have some work to do out here."

"Maybe finish tomorrow," Tink informed him, peeling the crust off her sandwich and used it to scoop up the extra mustard that had covered her plate. "Then figure out goggles."

"That's right. We need to get those back." While chasing Jenny through the house last week, Mike and Tink had run across a Labyrinth and its resident minotaur. Tink had lost her magical goggles while escaping, and reminded Mike on a daily basis that they were super important to her. However, she also saw the wisdom in letting Mike heal from the wounds he had sustained from a fight with a witch and a fire elemental, so had taken to repairing the damage that Sarah had done.

"Stupid cow-fuck," Tink muttered under her breath. Her vocabulary was the result of a brain injury she had sustained decades past, but she was a genius when it came to repairing the house.

Mike gave the goblin an affectionate squeeze. "We'll find a way to make it right, I promise." They already had a basic map of the labyrinth, though giant sections of it were incomplete. Now. he needed to figure out how to convince such a beast to give her the goggles back. They finished their meal, and he took Tink inside to survey the collection of tools he had purchased. Tink was fascinated by the cordless drill, her eyes fixated on the spinning metal bit. It hadn't been plugged in long, so disappointment registered in her face when the spinning slowed to a crawl.

"Give it some time," Mike informed her, handing her the staple gun. "You can use this to reattach the trellis when it arrives. Do you want me to show you how..." Tink pushed the stapler into the table, squeezing out several small staples into the old wood beneath.

"Tink like this one," she announced, firing staples through the air. "No more squished fingers."

"You got it." Mike picked up the spare hammer he had purchased for himself. All of Tink's tools were smaller than normal due to the size of her hands, making it difficult for him to help her without developing a cramp through the back of his hand and wrist.

"We go work now!" Tink exclaimed, gathering up some of the hardware they would need in her arms. Mike followed her toward the front door, picking up all the stuff she dropped on the way. Stepping out onto the front porch, Mike nearly ran into Tink, who had come to a stop.

"Hello Mr. Radley." Her hair twisted in a braid, wearing a plain dress was Elizabeth from the Historical Preservation Society. The last time Mike had seen her, she had been in the company of her daughter Sarah. "I was wondering if I may have a word with you."

"You can talk from there." Mike told her, looking down at Tink. Elizabeth paid the goblin no attention as Tink skulked away down the porch. Mike was hoping that his guess was correct and that Elizabeth still couldn't see her.

"It appears that you had some trouble," Elizabeth said, walking along the ground. She stood next to the collapsed railing. "You do understand that there is a process for approving renovations, yes? To preserve the historical integrity of the house."

"Considering that a member of your society caused this damage, I suggest we stop playing make believe." Mike crossed his arms. "You and I both know that the value of this house has nothing to do with how old it is."

"How did you do it?" Elizabeth took a step toward the porch. "An elemental, a succubus, and a witch. Any of those things would present a challenge, but somehow you surpassed them."

"And I will continue to do so." Mike waved his hand at the house. "They aren't just monsters. They're my family. How many times have your people tried to bust in here? How many times have you failed? No matter what you send at me, I will never part with this place. No matter who you send, we will stop them," he said evenly, hoping she couldn't hear the nerves in his voice..

Elizabeth smiled. "You certainly are feeling bold, Mr. Radley. Not many men who enjoyed living would speak in such a manner to me."

Mike laughed. "What's the worst you can do? You tried to eat my soul, burn down my house, and kill me. I'm not sure how you are going to top yourself, unless you have another daughter who is better than the last one."

"We will find a way, Mr. Radley. One day, we will take something from you, something that you love, and you will give everything to get it back from us." Elizabeth's lip twitched in the corner of her mouth.

"Until that day comes," Mike said, leaning over the railing, "Get the fuck away from my house."

Elizabeth stood there in silence, the sun beating down on her face. Mike watched in astonishment as her shadow twitched beneath her, multiple limbs reaching for the home, but chased away.

"Do your best to enjoy your time on Earth," Elizabeth said cryptically. "You no longer have much of it." Spinning in place, she took three steps away from the home and then vanished.

"Fuck," Mike swore, letting out a loud breath. His hands shook as adrenaline raced through his body. He was afraid she would attack him, and had hoped that his confidence would chase her off.

"Mean lady gone," Tink announced, standing up from the bushes with her crossbow. Mike wasn't sure when she had gotten there, but he was relieved to know that the goblin had his back. "Next time, Tink shoot her in the face."

"Go for it," Mike told her. "For now, let's get this porch fixed."

-

Stepping through the shadows, Elizabeth entered the Great Hall. In the middle of it was a giant table with large, ornate chairs fit for a king. Elizabeth stared across the large, wooden table at the other members of the Society. Five of them were here in person, but the other six were represented only by shadows, hovering entities broadcast across thousands of miles through a form of astral projection, though Sarah had called it a Shadow Skype Call. The empty seat to her left simply had a black rose on it, left there by one of the other members. She pulled her seat out and sat down slowly, gazing at the others defiantly. In reality, she should probably be afraid. If more than a few of them decided to make a move, Sarah was no longer here to help her.

"Tell me what happened," demanded the large shadow at the other end of the table. The voice indicated it was male, but it lacked any physical definition to support this. Eyes like bright stars scrutinized them all from within the darkness. His voice echoed as if through a long tunnel, a weird result of transmitting his astral body across the ocean. A simple feat for some, the High Priest was somehow able to do this without the main requirement for astral projection; a soul. If the others turned on her, he could still help her, even from half a world away... should he choose. And then again, the High Priest could decide to turn her into a smoldering pile of ash at a whim.

She thought carefully before responding.

"We made contact about ten days ago. This much we all know." She was careful to keep the others updated on Society dealings because in the last few centuries, the main reason Society members were executed was for harboring secrets, usually making bids for power that resulted in an immediate backlash from the others. Everyone at this table had a vested interest in her progress on the house - each of them desired the power rumored to be hidden within. "This man, Mike Radley, is a nobody. Or rather, we thought he was."