True Monsters (A Peaky Blinder Monster Hunter AU)
Summary: The Shelby family have been monster hunters for generations, the shield between the city of Birmingham and those who lurk in the shadows. But one fateful night, Tommy learns that some monsters are more than they seem.
This is my first contribution to the Spooktacular Halloween Challenge, hosted by the gorgeous @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie! I feel like its been a while since I've written for Peaky but I've been sitting on this idea for AGES so I'm beyond happy to finally be able to write it! Let me know if you like it!
Prompt- Ghouls
Words: 2400
Warnings: mild language, canon-typical violence, Shelby family dynamics, brief sexual references
Moodboard made by me. All pics from Pinterest.
A shroud of darkness hung over Birmingham, blotting out the stars. Only the moon showed through but even its light was veiled. Silence hovered over the sleeping city, the drunkards quiet for once. As if the whole city waited with bated breath. As if they knew something monstrous lingered in the shadows, waiting. So they locked their doors, covered the windows, hoping for evil to pass them by.
Then a shrill scream split the air….and chaos erupted.
*****
"Fuck! Move! Move!" Tommy commanded his brothers as he jumped out from behind the brick wall, not waiting to confirm their following. Yanking out his pistol, he immediately began firing shot after shot at the ghastly creatures crawling on all fours or walking upright.
They had been waiting for the ghouls to appear for several hours now, darkness creeping over the cemetery. Now with the moon almost at its zenith, the monsters had appeared from the shadows, slowly making their way towards the unfinished grave and the fresh body laying inside of it.
One of the creatures froze with the first of the gunshots, seemingly searching for the source of the disruption. Its blood-red eyes locked on Tommy. With an ear-piercing cry, it started a half-run towards him. Its milky-white skin shone bright under the dark sky as it moved closer, jumping over the many gravestones that littered the cemetery. A black, gaping maw of a mouth opened in a grotesque mock-smile as it neared.
Tommy raised his gun and fired…only to miss at the last second as it shifted to jump a short fence.
"Fuck." He muttered, pulling the trigger to fire another shot.
Luckily, the shot's aim was true. The bullet sailed through the air and the head of the creature with ease. The ghoul toppled forwards due to the impact of the bullet and its own momentum, landing with a soft thud along an overgrown dirt path.
An eerie shriek echoed in the chaos of the cemetery.
Tommy looked to his left, just in time to see another ghoul take a flying leap off a large, elaborate gravestone at him, its fingers curled like claws and its black mouth wide open, ready to bite and tear at his flesh.
But before he could raise his gun, another shot pierced the air.
Tommy casually slid to the side, just in time for the ghoul to land right where he had been standing. There was no fear of it rising to attack with the bullet hole evident in the back of its head.
"Cuttin' it a little close, eh?" Tommy said.
John walked up beside him, toothpick twitching in the corner of his mouth. "Nah, I never miss."
Tommy rolled his eyes at his brother's jest, before surveying around them. "We got 'em all?"
John opened his mouth to answer but a different one cut in.
"While some were staring down a ghoul, the rest of us were actually working. John, go check on your sister. She ain't up from the grave yet. And where's Arthur with that bloody sword?"
Polly moved to stand on Tommy's otherside, one of her cigarettes in hand while the other still kept a loose grip on her own pistol. Her dark eyes scanned the cemetery, as if she could see into every shadow that potentially harbored monsters.
"There's seven here."
"Hmmm…with the level of desecration the priest spoke of, I thought there'd be more."
"I agree." Polly nodded, then lowered her voice. "We're missing one. I can sense it."
Tommy had long ago given up on trying to understand Polly's apparent sixth sense, eventually chalking it up to her being a Shelby woman who had been in the monster hunting business longer than he had been breathing. Never once had her senses been wrong.
"Eyes open then." Tommy scanned the grounds one more time, pointer finger itching to pull the trigger. "Tell the others, I'll walk around."
A commotion at the unfinished gravesite drew both of their attention. Ada had finally risen up out of it, a smear of dirt maring her cheek and fire blazing in her eyes.
"I swear to God Himself, if one of those ghouls touched me, I would have castrated the lot of you!"
"They never got that close!" Arthur shouted back from where he appeared with young Finn by his side.
"One of 'em was peering down at me! I had to shoot it in the fuckin' face!" She screeched, clambering out of the grave in her black dress. "Next time, one of you idiots can be the bait!"
Tommy winced at the screech and shared a long-suffering look with his aunt. Ada hated being the bait and always loudly complained and bemoaned until Polly would eventually shut her up with a sharp remark. Having one of the monsters get so close to her, Tommy already knew she would be making everyone's lives miserable until she felt recompensed for her ordeal.
"Well, where the fuck is it? Eh? Don't see it 'round 'ere." Arthur grumbled, the Shelby family heirloom casually in hand and leaning against his shoulder.
"It's right 'ere, you blind, daft idiot!" Ada gestured to a dip in the ground next to her. "Gimme the sword. I want to chop it's head off."
Arthur's hand tightened around the handle of the sword. "No. You know I always do it."
"But it was my kill!" Ada whined, with a stomp of her foot to emphasize her frustration.
"Fuck. I'll deal with 'em." Polly said softly before striding forward and began barking out orders with all the confidence of a general. "Ada! Last time you tried to decapitate a ghoul, you almost chopped your foot off instead of it's head! Arthur, do your job or I'll have Finn doin' it instead. Finn, go get the wagon. We have to burn the bodies quickly. And where is bloody John?"
Lips twitching in the hint of a smirk at his family dynamics, Tommy turned on his heel and walked further into the cemetery. With pistol still in hand and the crescent moon lighting the way, he cautiously maneuvered through the maze of gravestones.
As time passed and the night darkened, a slow fog had crept in. All of Tommy's senses were on high alert, for a fog could easily hide many different kinds of monsters or be an excellent way for one to escape. Not if he had any say in the matter. His nerves hummed with tension as he slowly moved, eyes constantly roaming the grounds and into the surrounding shadows.
Yet it was a familiar voice, emerging from the deep shadows, that caused his heart to race and his stomach to drop like a stone at his feet.
"Tommy?"
He swiveled on his heel, following the direction of the voice. Her voice. That burning ache left behind by her betrayal, an ache he so desperately tried to ignore or drown away with work or whiskey, reignited in him like gasoline poured over a fire.
"Grace?" He quietly called out, a myriad of emotions rolling in and through him, causing him to feel as if the ground itself was unsteady under his feet.
"Hello, Tommy."
"What are you doing 'ere? I thought you were on a ship to America?"
She stepped out of the bottomless shadow, cast by the nearby buildings, in her usual posh skirt and blouse, blonde hair catching the moonlight and turning it almost white. "My ship was delayed, so I was out for a walk."
"In a cemetery?"
She shrugged even as she drew closer, a small smile teasing her lips. "It's peaceful."
Tommy knew he should move, but as he watched her move closer, almost gliding across the small dirt path, it felt like his feet were frozen to the ground. Even his arms hung limply by his sides, the pistol loosely dangling from his fingers. Memories of her, of them, assaulted his mind, blurring together until the past and present felt almost indistinguishable. That burning ache wildly danced in his chest, the only thing keeping him centered in the moment and not lost on the ceaseless waves of memories.
It was her voice that was the lifeline, firmly planting him back in the cemetery under the crescent moon.
"You should not be here, Thomas." She said, still moving closer.
It was now that Tommy saw it, gaze so focused on her that their surroundings were a blur. For a split second, her eyes flashed red before returning to their natural color. Or so he thought. Yet in that moment, a bone- chilling dread awakened in his gut and he knew….he knew the truth.
His hand tightened on the pistol by his side, finger on the trigger ready to pull. But his arm remained limp, unwilling to rise and point that gun at her. Even as his mind screamed and raged. His body ignored it all, as if caught under a spell.
Her eyes darted to his hand, seeing the twitch of his fingers. When her gaze returned to his, a cruel smirk blossomed on her face. "You once told me that you do bad things, but the truth is–"
Suddenly, her face contorted, mouth and eyes opening wide as a gaping hole appeared in her forehead. But there was no blood. A second later, the echoes of a gunshot shook the deathly stillness that hung over the cemetery. As if released by the sound, her legs slowly crumbled under her, her body following to the hard, cold ground. A thin layer of dirt rose upward, coating her as she landed dramatically with a thud.
Tommy blinked before looking over his shoulder to see John standing several paces behind him with a pistol still raised and smoke curling out of it.
Taking a deep breath, even if it felt like he had been forced underwater, he took those few steps. Tightening his grip on his pistol, he carefully crouched down and pushed on her cold corpse, rolling her to lay on her back, to better see her face. To his horror, her unseeing eyes were bright red. Even as he stared down at her, what humanity she had was slowly fading. Her pale skin turned white as death, lips peeled back to reveal inhuman, sharp teeth made for tearing flesh from bone. Only her clothes remained unchanged. A deception to what they truly hid underneath.
Footsteps approached, stopping just within arm's length, before John spoke. "Huh, well that makes sense now."
Hastily, Tommy stood, needing to get away from her– needing to escape it and the new layer of betrayal coating his heart like tar. How foolish, how fucking stupid could he be? He thought he was the monster in the night corrupting her, using her, taking advantage of her, falling for her…but she had been the true monster all along.
Without a word, he turned around, back in the direction he could hear the rest of his family. Of course, John fell into step with him as he walked away.
"You know–"
"Not a word, John."
"--Dad always told that story of how he fucked a vampire once. Best night of his life, he said–"
"Enough."
"--but if Grace is a ghoul then that means–"
"John, I swear to God–"
"--you fucked a ghoul! Ha!" John threw his head back laughing, until he choked on air when Tommy sharply punched him in the ribs, never breaking his stride.
"Ah fuck." John groaned, that stupid smirk never leaving his lips. "You know it's a little funny. Dad would be so proud."
Ignoring John, Tommy continued marching through the cemetery. His thoughts spun around as if on a carousel, but there was one that his mind lingered on. He sighed, already resigned to the fact that he would be teased ruthlessly about this. A fragile part of him hoped he could keep this information from the rest of his family.
But that hope swiftly died a painful, agonizing death once they got closer to the others.
"Guess wot?" John called out, jumping over a gravesite to put distance between himself and Tommy. "Turns out the lovely, spy bitch, Grace, was a ghoul all along! Just shot 'er in the head back there." He gestured vaguely in the direction they had come from. "Tommy probably wants to cut 'er head off now. Unless he wants to shoot 'er this time and then chop 'er head off."
When four sets of wide eyes turned to him, Tommy groaned a 'fuckin' hell' and walked towards the wagon to get a shovel. He was not going to wait for the sword still in Arthur's hands and he had no intentions of discussing this new fact with his family.
"Grace was a ghoul? How? She didn't look like one." Ada asked, clearly perplexed, standing next to their aunt.
But what Tommy had been dreading the most erupted like a shower of fireworks– painfully loud and obnoxious.
Bellowing laughter exploded from Arthur as he doubled over. "A ghoul! Haha! Tommy fucked a ghoul! Dad would be proud!"
"That's wot I said!" John chimed in, laughter renewed.
"You two shut your gobs before the whole town comes here wondering what maniacs are causing a ruckus." Polly hissed at them, then turned back to Ada. "Some ghouls can change their appearance if they wish to seduce someone. Then they'll drink their victim's blood later." Those shrewd eyes swung up to stare Tommy down.
"I know." He muttered, grabbing the shovel.
Polly smirked. "I'd say I'm surprised but…"
That earned an eye roll from Tommy before he started the walk back towards Grace's – no – it's body. The sound of snickering and crude jokes followed in his wake as Arthur and John continued to find the humor in his mistakes. Perhaps he would take John's suggestion and wait for Grace – it– to heal and awaken, before shooting her again. Might help alleviate some of the residual heartache and sour taste of betrayal she had gifted him with.
"Don't forget you've got an appointment in London tomorrow with Solomons!" Polly called out at his retreating form. "Never woulda guessed the day that Londoners would come callin' for help with their vampire problem."
Without breaking his stride or acknowledging his aunt, a devilish grin grew on Tommy's face. He was looking forward to the challenge of vampires and all their tricks. Birmingham and its few monsters had never been enough to appease him. It was time for expansion, and London was the first stop with its increasing number of vampires. Perhaps he would fuck one, just to spite them all.
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