I'm a Deliveryman for Monsters. The Forest is Full of Terrors...

Part 1

Hey, Jay the Monster Deliveryman again here!

I decided to do a bit of an update, since there’s been a few changes around here recently.

First of all, my beloved bad-ass grandma has become my new delivery partner and navigator - per some of your very helpful suggestions. She seems to know this town better than anybody, and that includes a few shortcuts and detours that I didn’t even know existed (and some that I'd prefer to forget about forever lest they do permanent psychological damage to me). Also, she managed to convince Doc to pay me an additional dollar per delivery - which she has claimed as her fee (for wine-money, of course).

So, basically I’m back where I started, still making two bucks per call, but at least I’ve got some company now. And we’re saving on homecare nursing fees. The new lady really wasn’t cutting it, anyways - I found her asleep on the couch after grandma escaped last time - with empty cans of Chef Boyardee laying around all over the house. She said she’d fallen asleep after hunting for her for hours, but it looked to me like the only thing she’d been hunting for was a can-opener.

KRRRRSSHHHHHHHHH

The radio blared to life again and we got our first call of the afternoon. It had been a quiet one so far and grandma had her feet up on the dashboard and was taking a little snooze while I played Grand Theft Auto on my Nintendo DS. The old-school overhead version was always my favourite, even though I loved the new first-person GTA games as well. I just had to remind myself the game was over when I stopped playing and started driving in real life.

“HHHHHNNNKKK! Wha,” my grandma woke up with a start, halfway through a snore.

I let her take the call, since she always enjoyed busting Doc’s balls. And she was way better at negotiating with him than I was.

“Jay, you there,” the staticky voice over the air-waves demanded. “Come in, Jay.”

“Muriel here,” my grandma said into the receiver, picking it up a second after waking without missing a beat.

She was like a cat, I remembered thinking to myself, not for the first time. She would be asleep one second and then stirring up hell the next.

“Muriel, put Jay on, will ya?”

“Nice try, Doc. What’s the call?”

I heard the sound of the owner sighing into the other end of the radio and took that as an internal victory.

“Alright, this is a rough one, I’m not gonna lie.”

I couldn’t believe he was actually leveling with me for once - or, rather, with my grandma. I braced myself to hear what the job would be.

“You know the deal, Doc. Danger pays for dangerous jobs.”

Again, I was at a loss. I had never heard of this stipulation. It made sense, but Doc was never one to abide by common sense.

“Fine,” he said back, and I could tell it was through gritted teeth. “Fifty for both of you. To split.”

“Each.”

“Deal.”

I had to catch my breath. Fifty bucks for one call!? Each!?

“Okay, go ahead, give me the deets,” my grandma said, pulling out a pen and a small notepad from her bra. She handed me the radio receiver so she could write.

“Thirty two twenty two Fairbanks Street - there’s a pair of brothers who run a homebrew operation. I need you to pick up a barrel of something from them.”

“Oh, the Bimbli Brothers! Okay, sure, I know the place.”

“I need you to take the barrel over to the house in the forest. The Subterraneans are doing their annual ceremony tonight.”

My grandma’s hand started to shake slightly. She paused mid-sentence and stopped what she was writing to look at the receiver as if it had just called her a dirty word.

“I’m sorry, Doc. Did you just say, ‘The Subterraneans?’”

There was no answer for a few long seconds, then Doc spoke again.

“A hundred each?”

“Two.”

“Deal.”

She put down her pen and didn’t write anything else.

“You owe me, Doc. And my grandson. You would have tried to get him to do this for a couple bucks, huh? You really are an asshole.”

The radio remained silent for a few more long seconds and I half-expected him to fire both of us, but what he did instead surprised me more than anything else he could have said.

“Srry.”

“What was that, Doc,” she asked, picking up the receiver and gripping it tightly in her fist.

“Sorry,” he grumbled.

“Alright, Doc. I’ll take that, since I know you’re not very good with apologies. But you better keep in mind who’s riding shotgun here from now on, okay? We’ll call you when it’s done.”

With that the radio went dead silent and I stared at my grandma with wide eyes full of amazement.

"Grandma! How the hell did you just do that!?"

She just smiled and laughed.

"You gotta learn to know your worth, Jay. Remember, not everybody can do this job. You have a driver's license and a working vehicle, not to mention you know how to get around Hollow's End. You'd be surprised how much he actually values your services."

This was all a total revelation to me. But hey, I'd take it as a life lesson.

"Alright, what exactly did we get ourselves into, grandma? You looked more scared than I'd ever seen when he said where we're going."

"I'll explain on the way. C'mon, we don't want to keep the Subterraneans waiting."

Just that name was enough to send shivers down my spine but I tried not to think about it too much. The idea of being underground or in a cave terrified me - I'd always had claustrophobia for as long as I could remember. Something in my memory banks always stirred uncomfortably at the mere mention of such things as being buried alive or exploring underground caverns. But I could never put my finger on what that traumatic memory from my past was - like it was just on the tip of my tongue but never attainable. I could only picture darkness and the wet, underground smell of a cave somewhere and it filled me with dread.

I resolved to ask my grandma about it later, since she seemed to know a little bit about everything. If something horrible had happened to me underground as a kid, she would remember.

I started up the old car and it began to rattle, groan and rumble to life. Pulling out of the parking spot, I began driving quickly to our destination on Fairbanks Street. It wasn’t far, but I had no idea where the house in the forest would be or how we would get there to deliver our shipment. Maybe my grandma had an idea, though.

"You know this town has a lot of history, right, Jay?"

"Sure, I mean I guess so.”

“And you know that our town… It isn’t like other towns. You understand that, right?”

It annoyed me that she was talking to me in this way, as if I was a kid or something. I mean, yeah I wasn’t the sharpest person in the drawer, but I understood that our town was different. Then again, I had never stepped outside of it, so I didn’t really know for sure how different.

“Of course! I watch movies and TV shows, grandma. And I’ve talked to people who moved here from other places. I know this town is different. I know that some of the people who live here aren’t exactly normal. Frank, for example. There aren’t many places that could attest to having an eight foot tall, furry blue monster for a citizen. And then there’s the Count, the sisters, and of course, Mr. Butcher. Not to mention all of the others. Some of whom I’m sure I haven’t met, since everybody’s so damn secretive around here all the time. But I’ve never even heard of the Subterraneans. Who are they?”

We pulled onto Fairbanks Street and my grandma pointed towards a house up ahead on the right.

“You haven’t heard about them for a reason. We don’t talk about the Subterraneans unless we have to. It’s a bad omen if you have to speak of the people who live beneath the ground and take children in the night. I’ll tell you more after we grab the barrel.”

We pulled into a perfectly paved driveway on Fairbanks Street. The house it belonged to was likewise immaculate. Surrounded by stone fences and cobblestone walkways, perfectly tended gardens and a fine arched gate, high and covered with embellishments which led to the backyard.

A pair of men who looked almost identical came outside. They were both approximately four feet tall and had long white beards with no moustaches. Tall hats with floppy ends like elongated toques sat atop their heads and their clothes were colorful pastels of greens, yellows, and reds.

“Hello,” said the shorter, fatter one on the left. “I’m Nickel Bimbli, this is my brother Pickle Bimbli. We’re the Bimbli brothers.”

They both bowed low and then the taller, slimmer one dressed mostly in green spoke.

“You must be Jay. The barrel is down in the cellar - come on this way to see if it meets the specifications, then we’ll bring it up for you.”

Quickly, they were off, leading us around the side of the house, through the gate. Opening up a screen door, then a wooden one behind it, they led us down a set of stairs, then down another set into a stone-lined cellar.

The air was surprisingly dry, but cool, and it was very dark down there. One of the brothers lit a kerosene lamp, holding it up in his hand, and the room full of huge wooden barrels came into focus in the flickering light.

One barrel stood in the center, set away from all the rest. There was a skull and crossbones painted on it in red.

“Y’know, there’s not many folks who would do business with the Subterraneans,” my grandma said with a hint of condemnation in her voice.

The two brothers looked at each other for a moment, passing a secretive glance between them.

“We do what we have to to get by these days,” said Pickle. “Times are tough. You know that as well as anyone, Muriel. On the bright side, I see you’re out of retirement - nice to have you back.”

“Just temporarily. I’m teaching my grandson Jay here the ropes.”

“That’s good,” put in Nickel. “Last thing we need is another delivery guy getting turned into worm-food.”

“Uh, what was that??” I asked, but they ignored me and started bringing the barrel up the stairs. I ran ahead and opened the door for them as the two strong, squat men lifted the giant keg with ease.

They put it in the back of the car and it sat upright a good three feet higher than the clearance I needed to close the trunk.

“Do we need some ropes or something to tie it down,” I asked, eyeing the giant keg nervously.

“It’s not going anywhere,” Pickle said, dusting off his hands. “Trust me.”

My grandma and I got back into the car quickly and I followed her lead. She seemed to be in a tremendous hurry. I had always noticed she was really fast and never seemed to stop moving except to sleep - maybe it had been from her time working as a delivery driver that she had obtained that habit.

“Alright,” she said as I started the old car. “You know the forest over by the old elementary school? Off Elm Drive?”

“Yeah, for sure. I used to play in that forest when I was a kid,” I replied, driving in that direction.

She looked slightly nervous when I said that and was suspiciously quiet for a while afterwards.

"So what’s the deal with these Subterraneans, anyways?”

Reluctantly she started talking again.

“Well, they live underground for one thing. And they’ve been doing that since time out of mind. The tunnels down there, from what I’ve seen and heard, they’re carved with hieroglyphics, like the ancient Egyptians used to make. It’s somewhat of a mystery how long exactly the secret society has been operating for."

It was ominous and quiet in the car for a few seconds and I turned on the radio to a rock station. “Highway to Hell” played in the background as I thought about whether my life was worth two hundred dollars minus gas and expenses.

“And what about that whole ‘worm food’ remark? What did that mean?”

“Oh, that. Well, the Subterraneans worship these giant super-intelligent millipedes that live underground with them, beneath the forest. There’s one in particular that they call ‘the many-legged god.' It's all very mysterious. For all we know the millipedes made the tunnels, not the people."

Finally we arrived at the forest and my grandma instructed me to hop the curb and drive toward the edge of the forest. Despite the time of day it looked dark past the treeline and almost pitch black the further in we planned to go.

“Okay, listen closely, Jay. See those two trees? The ones with bark missing from their branches? Drive between them.”

It sounded bizarre, as if she was telling me to drive straight into a dead end, but I did what she told me. As soon as we were through she pointed left. I was surprised to see two more trees with branches missing bark up ahead, leading the way through the dense forest. Going between them, she pointed sharply to the right and I found that way was clear as well. Despite how it looked from the road, there was a path through the trees and into the heart of the forest. You just needed a guide to show it to you.

We veered through the trees for a good twenty minutes until we eventually arrived at a dilapidated old house. Despite the dense forest someone had built a dwelling for themselves out here - and a substantial one at that. It looked like an ordinary house you would see on the side of any city street, aside from the fact that it was a bit weathered and in need of maintenance - the roof in particular sagging in at the center.

“Get as close as you can, we don’t want to have to carry this thing,” my grandma said, pointing a way through some shrubbery that allowed us to get right up next to the garage door.

“Now what,” I asked, turning off the car.

“Now we wait.”

It wasn’t long, though, before someone greeted us. The garage door rose up and a pair of men in vermillion hooded robes were standing just inside looking at us silently.

We got out of the car and stood looking back at them. I waited to see what my grandma would do, but even she looked nervous all of a sudden. And that made me feel downright terrified. Still, I managed to say something, feeling awkward in the lingering silence.

“Uhhh, did you guys order a barrel of something from the Bimbli brothers?”

They both nodded in unison. No words. Instead, they lifted their arms, inviting us into the garage. It was dark in there, empty and filled with spider webs.

“It’s right back here. You guys can grab it,” I said, leading them to the trunk, or trying to. They just stood where they were, unmoving, their hands tucked into their robes on each opposing arm.

My grandma started walking back to the trunk.

“Come on, Jay. We’re gonna have to do this ourselves. Trust me, we don’t want to take our time out here. We need to be in and out.”

She looked at her watch again and I wondered why she was so concerned with the time all of a sudden. Then I remembered her comment about being in the forest after sunset. It got early these days, in mid December. We didn’t have a lot of time, despite the fact that it was an early afternoon delivery. The trees made it difficult to see the position of the sun, but I guessed it would get dark quickly out in these woods.

Surprisingly, despite her age, my grandma was pretty damn strong. I helped her lift the big keg with a tremendous effort and we walked it slowly into the garage, taking several rests along the way to flex our aching fingers. I felt bad for my grandma but she looked more worried about me.

We set it down just inside the door, finally getting it to its destination, then turned around and got ready to get the hell out of there.

The two men in robes were just behind us when we turned around and I jumped backwards in surprise. Nan held firm, though, just looking up at them fearlessly.

“That’ll be four hundred for the delivery, plus Doc’s fee makes an even six hundred. I’m assuming you already arranged payment with the brothers, since they didn’t ask us for anything.”

Both of them stood there silently in their dark, hooded robes, staring at us. One looked at the other and nodded. He produced a thick wad of bills and handed it over to her with a gnarled, flame-scarred hand.

My grandma took the cash, her own hand trembling ever so slightly as she did so, then we slipped past them as they turned in unison to watch us go. Without them ever having spoken a word, the deal was done and we got back in the car.

The two men stood in the garage and hit the button for the automatic door to close. As it did, I saw the entire floor of the garage drop out, like an elevator, they descended out of sight with the barrel just as the door closed completely.

“Whoa. That’s some creepy-ass secret society shit right there.”

Her hands were shaking in the seat next to me and she was looking at me with fear in her eyes.

“We need to go. Now.”

“Okay, okay. No problem. I’ll just turn around and…”

I looked to see there was now a large tree blocking the path we had taken to get in. A group of people had clearly dragged it over there while we were busy moving the barrel, since upon inspection it was too large to be moved by just the two of us.

“I should have trusted my instincts. Got cocky, got sloppy. Stupid, Muriel,” my grandma was saying to herself, slapping her cheeks like a fighter getting ready for a brawl.

“It’s okay, grandma. We’ll just walk back. We’ll bring a chainsaw tomorrow or something. No big deal. I know we can’t ask THEM for help, that’s for sure.”

Looking around, I saw there were more of the vermillion-robed figures standing all around us in the woods, hiding here and there and everywhere, watching us.

“Well, we can’t stay here, that’s for sure,” Nan said, looking at her watch. “I think you’re right, Jayson. Let’s get a move-on. We’ll come back for the car in the morning, with backup. The important thing is getting out of this forest before sunset.”

We didn’t have much daylight left, so we took off on foot, the hooded Subterraneans watching us silently from all around.

"Will they hurt us?"

"Not directly. But they can definitely stall us and try to keep us out here."

"And what happens after that?"

She shook her head as if to say, "You don't want to know."

When she said that, I couldn't help but think of the brothers' "worm food" remark.

It was going to be a long walk back to town and despite our best efforts we would not be able to make it out before dark - I knew that even then.

We walked past the crowd of hooded figures in robes, stepping over the tree they had used to block our way out. Their hooded visages were bathed in shadow and their gazes followed after us. They began to make a collective noise amongst themselves which sounded like the chittering of a bug.

Then suddenly I heard the sound of something moving beneath the ground, nearby, just below my feet. The leaves rustled and stirred as something with mandibles and a large black, insectile face began to emerge. And behind it, one hideous row of legs after another. More of the creatures began to emerge from nearby also and I heard myself scream as my grandma took my hand and pulled me away, heading in the direction of the forest entrance far off in the distance.

The two of us picked up our pace and began to run.

Part 3

TCC