Free Club Monstrosity by Jesse Petersen Page A

they talk about this shit inside? Why did they have to do it in the hallway, with its bright lights and buzzing exit sign that sounded like a shotgun in her head right now?
    “You gave some random guy your key?” Whitney barked.
    Natalie shook her head. What was Whitney talking about? She pushed past her roommate into the apartment and looked around. There was no random guy. Had her roommate let all the hamburger grease go to her head?
    “What are you prattling on about?” she asked, her own voice elevating. “I never gave anyone my key.”
    She was feeling a little . . . monstrous, actually. It wasn’t something she allowed very often, mostly because she feared she might not be able to control it once it started. It was not to be fucked with.
    “Yeah. You did.” Whitney slammed the door and folded her arms. “He could have raped me, Natalie!”
    Natalie shook her head as she dug into her pockets for her keys. Once she found them, Whitney would have to admit she was full of shit. Maybe even apologize . . . though she had never done so in the whole time they lived together. It was actually Natalie who normally said sorry for everything.
    And she couldn’t think of why at the moment.
    She gritted her teeth and kept patting her pockets. But there were no keys.
    “Um,” she began.
    Whitney threw her hands up and rolled her eyes. “ See? You can’t even fake that you have your keys. You gave them to that guy, you gave him our address, and you let him come in here, without even consulting me first. I mean, shit, at least have some common courtesy.”
    “Whitney—” she managed past gritted teeth.
    “No, just don’t say another word. It’s too late now. This is the last straw. Your pick-up is in your bedroom waiting for you and I hope he can pay the rent, because I’m out of here.”
    She turned on her heel and grabbed a purple duffel bag that read Dance! in swirly letters. Not that Whitney and her fat ass had ever danced.
    “What are you talking about?” Natalie cried, stepping forward as panic gripped her.
    The medical examiner’s office paid fine, but not well enough to cover one hundred percent of the rent even on her modest place. It was in Manhattan, for Christ’s sake! Not the greatest part, but still . . . Manhattan !
    “Look, I’ve put up with your hours, the fact that you come home with blood all over you at least once a week, your nineteenth-century music choices, and your general . . .” Her roommate waved her hands at Natalie. “Your general weirdness . But this is it. A friend at the diner has a spot opening up in her place and I’m moving out. I’ll be back for my stuff tomorrow.”
    “No—” Natalie said with a shake of her head. “Wait.”
    But Whitney pushed past her into the hallway without another word and slammed the door behind her. Natalie flinched as the reverberation of the door made her sensitive ears tingle, and then she turned back into the apartment.
    Every light was on, but somehow she still felt . . . scared . Scared like kids had been scared of her for generations. Except she was afraid of the light, not the dark. Of what it might reveal when she went into her bedroom and saw whoever had somehow gotten her keys and was waiting for her.
    It wasn’t a common feeling, that fear. Normal people couldn’t best her. They underestimated her strength.
    But what if it wasn’t just a normal person waiting for her? What if it was the same person who had incited a crowd to kill Ellis? Or frozen Blob alive? Human or not, they had managed to get past the monster defenses of both her friends. Who was to say they wouldn’t get past hers?
    Would she end up on a funeral pyre tonight, a dead monster no one even missed?
    No way. That was not going to happen. She reached out and grabbed an antique silver candlestick on the console table by the door. Dear old Dad’s castle had been a good source of décor, for sure. Décor that doubled as protection.
    She moved down the