Too Much Power

Matthew stood at the altar of his problems. Before him two women were torn to shreds, blood splattered everywhere in his hotel room. The carpet was crimson and the walls were like abstract paintings if they only used different shades of red. This was the consequence of making anyone he pointed to fall in love with him. At first it was fun. He could get any woman he wanted. A model. Actress. His crush from college. No one or thing was off limits, free to live out his own fantasies with whomever he chose. That was until his lovers all caught up with him.

He was out one night at a celebrity ball with a beautiful model he met at a hotel, when he ran into Hannah Soreno, a famous actress he was with only a few weeks ago.

“Matty, who is this?” Hannah asked.

“Oh hi, Hannah. This is–” Matthew said.

“Patricia. His girlfriend,” Patricia interrupted, extending her hand.

“Um Matty. Why are you with this skank?” Hannah asked Matthew.

“Who are you calling skank, you whore!” Patricia said.

“Matty. Come on. This woman can’t possibly be worth your time,” Hannah said, pulling him away from Patricia.

“Matthew can be with whoever he wants to.” Patricia pushed Hannah.

That was all it took and a brawl ensued. Extensions were flying in the air as the two wrestled on the floor. Matthew stood there unsure what to do while another woman in a silk black dress grabbed him by the arm, taking him away from the fight. She dragged him over to the food table and spun him toward her. It was his crush from college, Gretchen.

“Gretchen? What are you doing here?”

“Saving you from those crazy women. Obviously.”

“Well thanks. I appreciate it. I didn’t realize you were going to be here.”

“A little birdy told me you would be here,” she said, shaking her pink phone at him.

“I didn’t tweet it out.”

“No silly. I track your phone.”

“Um…”

“Let’s get out of here. I know a place much more...comfortable,” Grechen said, running her finger down his tie.

“Um…what about those two?” Matthew asked, pointing to the women still locked in combat.

“They will never love you like I can. Come on. I’ll show you,” she said, taking his hand again and whisking him away.

They left the ball and stopped at the top of the stairs of the exit. At the base of the stairs was a wall of women, all of whom Matthew had used his power on at some point. One of the women stepped forward into the light.

“Unhand our man!” Maddie said, pointing at Gretchen.

“He is not your man!” Gretchen said.

“We’ll see about that. Charge!” Maddie said, pointing at her.

The rest of the women ran up the stairs toward them. Gretchen pulled Matthew back into the party. They pushed through the crowd of people, passing Hannah who was bashing Patricia’s skull in with a serving platter. This was all a lot for Matthew to process, but he kept up with Gretchen, who was at least trying to get him out of this ever escalating situation. They got past the crowd and went into the adjoining hotel. She pulled him toward the front desk, when Matthew grabbed her wrist and pulled the opposite way.

“I have a place upstairs. We can hide there,” Matthew said, pulling her along.

They went down a hall and up the stairwell to the fifth floor. The echoes of the rabid women still followed them up the stairwell. They got to the top and went three doors down to room 508. He swiped his key card rapidly in front of the sensor. It kept beeping and a red dot appeared above the knob.

“Hurry,” Gretchen said.

He kept doing it until it beeped and the color changed to green. He pushed the door open and closed the door behind Gretchen. Matthew backed into the untouched room while Gretchen kept her ear to the door. The women gathered outside in the hall, all upset that they lost him.

“I can’t believe you lost him,” one of the women said.

“Me? I beat you up here and I am in heels. What’s your excuse?” another woman responded.

“Ladies. Ladies. We didn’t lose him. He is obviously hiding. Playing hard to get was always his style,” Maddie said and the rest of the women nodded in agreement. Maddie pulled out a handful of key cards from her purse.

“Everyone take one and split up. Whoever gets him is worthy of his love.”

Most of the women grabbed their card and went back into the stairwell to go searching at the other levels. Only Maddie and Sandra stayed on the fifth floor.

“I don’t mind sharing if you don’t?” Sandra offered.

“It’s a deal.”

They both went to the doors on each side of the hall and went inside. When they were done searching they called each room clear and went to the next.

“They will be here any second. Quick, look sexy on the bed,” Gretchen said, pushing him on the king-sized bed.

“What?”

“I’m going to hide in the closet. You distract them with your hunkiness and I will take them out from behind.”

“Wait? Distract them. Hunkiness?” Matthew asked.

Gretchen closed the closet just as the door beeped. Maddie opened the door and saw Matthew sitting on the bed.

“He’s in here,” Maddie called out to Sandra from the entrance.

They both came inside the room and closed the door. Sandra peeked her head in the dark bathroom while Maddie went up to the closet.

“Maddie. I thought you were here for me. Not my empty closet,” Matthew said, trying to play it cool.

She stopped short of opening it and ran her fingernails across it instead. “You sure are right, baby.”

Sandra came out from the bathroom and waved with her fingers at him. They both approached him from two sides, licking their ruby red lips. In a normal situation he would be thrilled, but this was getting out of hand.

“So Matthew, who do you choose? Me or Sandra?” Maddie asked.

“He chooses me, you whores!” Gretchen said, jumping out of the closet with a knife in each of her hands. She dispatched them so fast Matthew blinked and almost missed it. What he would have given to blink slower. When she was done, she bounded to the door, blood dripping from her blades.

“I’m not done yet. Not till they are all gone and you are safe. Stay put. I’ll be back.” Gretchen blew him a kiss as she left.

His head was spinning. He had two dead women in his hotel room and there were sure to be more bodies by the end of the night. All because he wanted what he was never supposed to have. Love was supposed to be developed, nurtured. Not conjured out of thin air. What he had to do next took a lot of willpower, but he knew there was no other way. He went into the bathroom and found his night pack. Inside, he pulled out an extra shaver blade and lined it up with his pointer finger on the tabletop next to the sink.

“Come on Matthew. The Yakuza can do it. So can you,” he said to himself.

He took a few rapid short breaths and slammed the blade with his palm into his pointer finger, searing it clean off. He screamed in pain and fell back onto the floor as blood leaked out the end. The blade slid on the floor next to him, but he did not have the will to do his other finger. The door beeped and Gretchen came back inside, covered head to toe in her victim’s blood.

“Matthew! What happened!” she said, falling to her knees next to him. She held his hand in hers, trying to comfort him.

“I tried to cut it off.”

“Why?”

“I was the cause of all this. This finger is the reason I have an army of women after me,” Matthew said, trying to pick up his finger.

“What are you talking about? The blood loss must be getting to you.”

“No. I have this power. The power to make anyone fall in love with me by just pointing at them.”

“Yep. You must be going into shock. I’ll get you a towel.”

“I’m serious. Your feelings you have for me aren’t real. I used my power on you. Think about it. Did you ever have feelings for me before we got together?”

“Yes.”

“No, you didn’t.”

“Yes I did. Ever since I saw you in that psychology class. Third row with that dorky backpack. What a nerd you were. My whole notebook for that class is just pictures of you with your name written all over it.”

“But–”

“I was always hoping you were going to ask me out, but my friends all told me to play hard to get. Hell, even my counselor told me not to date anyone. That I need to work on myself. Take my medicine. Blah blah blah.”

“So...my powers...didn’t work.”

“Nope. And nothing in this world is going to take me away from you. Not even those psycho bitches.”

She hugged him tight and he stared ahead. It was more terrifying than he had thought. This woman wasn’t crazy because of him. She was crazy all by herself.

***

Bread Rocket

“I think I misheard you. You want to send bread into space?” Mr. Banaszkiewicz said.

“No Mr. Banaszkiewicz, I want to send a rocket made of bread to space. It is completely different,” Barry said, adjusting his spectacles. 

“Let me get this straight, you want me to abandon years of innovation and peer reviewed research to send a bread rocket into space?”

“Yes.”

Mr. Banaszkiewicz pondered his proposal, looking down at the documents Barry had provided on the table. Mr. Banaszkiewicz’s advisor had a concerned look on his face.

“You aren’t really taking this man’s proposal seriously? A bread rocket? What, is it powered by butter?” the advisor said to Mr. Banaszkiewicz. 

“The prototype was. Well it was diesel fuel, but butter was one of the ingredients in the biofuel. Worked pretty well, but I was thinking of something more traditional for thrust.”

“Like what? Marinara sauce,” the advisor said.

“Alright you two. I have heard enough,” Mr. Banaszkiewicz said. “Mr. Nowak, we will fund your proposal.” 

“WHAT!”

“Thank you Mr. Banaszkiewicz, you won’t regret this,” Barry said and left the conference room.

“Mr. Banaszkiewicz, you can’t be serious?”

“I don’t have much of a choice. We have failed at everything else. President Duda needs us to succeed.”

“Why not just contact the Americans? Or the Chinese? They could help us out.”

“I think they may be part of the problem. Convenient that all our previous launches have failed, even after our rigorous checks showed nothing wrong. And besides, who is going to sabotage a bread rocket?

“It sabotages itself by even being an idea.”

“We will see.”

***

Seven Months Later - Big Launch Day

“Is everything ready Mr. Nowak?” Mr. Banaszkiewicz asked, with his advisor by his side.

“Ready as she’ll ever be,” Barry said, searching through his white lab coat. 

Behind Barry was a giant loaf of bread the size of a four story building. The light brown rocket glowed in the sun. From a distance, it looked quite tasty with its puffy design. Barry found the white remote he was looking for when a chef walked in.

“The bread is at optimum temperature, Mr. Nowak. We are ready to launch when you are,” the chef said.

“Excellent! Mr. Banaszkiewicz, do you want to do the honors?” Barry offered.

“No, you can do it,” Mr. Banaszkiewicz said.

“Alright, let's toast this loaf,” Barry said, pressing the button on the remote.

Flames shot out from underneath the bread and thick clouds of smoke pumped all around. The rocket lifted into the air, clearing the smoke with ease. Crumbs fell off the side of the ship and the bottom was starting to get dark brown, but the rocket kept going. Higher in the sky it went and Mr. Banaszkiewicz could not believe his eyes.

“It’s working. It's actually working!” Mr. Banaszkiewicz said, craning his neck to watch the rocket. His advisor too was shocked that Barry’s rocket didn’t end up as a pile of burnt toast.

They all turned to the monitor next to them to watch the rest of the footage from the bread rocket. The loaf’s bottom portion turned black from the intense heat, but nonetheless was still on a good trajectory until it broke past the atmosphere and into the vacuum of space.

“All systems are nominal. Rocket is in orbit,” a voice said from the monitor.

“I can’t believe it. It actually worked,” Mr. Banaszkiewicz said.

“Of course it did. Now time for Phase 2,” Barry said, searching for the next button to click on his remote.

“Phase 2?” the advisor asked.

Barry clicked the button and the bread turned toward the moon. Its engine lit up again and flew toward the moon.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to land the bread on the moon.”

“Why?” Mr. Banaszkiewicz asked.

“Bread and cheese go together well.”

The rocket went faster than anyone could have expected, already reaching the moon before Mr. Banaszkiewicz could explain the flaw in his logic. The bread smashed into the moon, shattering into millions of frozen pastries. Barry's mouth hung open, devastated by this outcome.

“I...thought the moon was made of cheese. You lied to me…” Barry said, not to anyone in particular.

“Who told you the moon was made of cheese?” the advisor said, flabbergasted by his childish understanding of the solar system.

“Wallace and Gromit. How could you do this to me?”

What a Date!

Quiet conversations blended together with the soothing sound of the piano that played in the middle of the dimly lit room. A waiter weaved between the tables in his darker than black suit and bow tie, arriving at a table of two who were lost in each other’s eyes.

“Lobster Thermidor and Lamb Shank,” the waiter said, placing their meals in front of them.

“Thank you. If it isn’t too much trouble, can we get another glass of wine for the lady?” the man asked the waiter.

“Certainly Sir,” the waiter said and left them.

The woman took her napkin and placed it over her lap, to protect her scarlet dress. “Kenneth, if I didn’t know any better you are trying to get me drunk?”

“Of course not. I saw that your glass is getting low and the lobster is best with something red.”

The woman swirled the wine in her glass and downed it in one fast shot, staring straight into his brown eyes after, which dilated for a split second.

“You didn’t expect me to do that, did you?” she said, brushing her light brown hair away from her ear, revealing a dangling diamond earring.

“You are full of surprises, Gwen.”

“You have no idea.”

They had just begun to take their first bites, before three masked men with guns started slinking in from the far side of the room. Silverware clattered against plates and a woman screamed upon seeing the armed men. The music stopped and before people could scatter a gunshot went off.

“Everybody stay where you are! If you run, you die!” one of the masked men said.

The other two weaved around the tables, clearly looking for someone in particular. Kenneth drew his Walther PPK from his jacket while Gwen drew her Glock from her purse when the two masked men got close. The two masked men pointed their guns at them, surprised that two civilians would be armed at such a fancy place.

“Drop your weapons. I would hate to ruin a perfectly good date on the count of you two,” Kenneth said.

“He said drop them, scumbags!” Gwen said, standing up and toward the armed men with purpose.

Kenneth did a double take, realizing she was armed. “Gwen, you have a gun?”

“I was going to ask you the same thing?”

“I live a dangerous life. Fine art collections can get a little...complicated, but you? Do you even work for the State Department?”

“I thought it was obvious. Every spy who ever lived says they work for the State Department. Haven’t you watched a movie?” Gwen responded.

“I figured that was only in the movies. And that spies in real life wouldn’t be so drop dead gorgeous,” Kenneth said, a little frantic.

Before Gwen could fawn over Kenneth’s charming words, a gunshot went off behind them along with more feminine screams. Kenneth and Gwen turned their heads around to see the third mask man standing next to a large bald man who was slumped over the table, blood seeping into the white tablecloth.

“He’s dead. Let’s go!” the masked man said, taking a picture with his phone to confirm the kill.

By the time Kenneth and Gwen turned their heads back to their more immediate threat, two more gunshots went off. They both fell to the floor, holding their stomachs’. The three masked men ran off, leaving Kenneth and Gwen on the floor, laying on their side facing each other.

“I...didn’t expect the date to end like this,” Kenneth said, coughing up blood.

“Me neither,” Gwen said, straining from the pain.

“If we get out of this...I would like...to see you again.”

“Me too.”

Kenneth slid his hand across the floor, smearing blood in the carpet. She grabbed onto his hand with a weak grip. A crowd of people surrounded them while someone dialed 911. The waiter kneeled beside them to render aid.

“I see we have a couple of heroes. I hope you two learned your lesson,” the waiter said, putting pressure on Kenneth’s wound.

“What was that supposed to be?” Kenneth asked, straining from the pain.

“Don’t be a hero? I thought it was obvious.”

Mystical VHS

Glass rained from the sky, while men in tactical gear descended upon me like black angels of death. There was nothing I could do in the dark complex filled with giant silver vats. My team had abandoned me and so too had my rivals. As I floated in a glowing vat of smooth, pure white yogurt sprinkled with orangutan piss and bad choices, I dwelled upon everything that led up to this moment. It all started with a job. A simple job in fact. Should have been in and out in ten minutes, but naturally with any heist, there were variables beyond my control. And what was it over...a goddamn VHS tape.

It all started last week when word on the street got out about my very steamy love making with Sharlet Everdeen. I would normally think an ex would spread this to the world, trying to get back at me, but Sharlet and I hadn’t been together for over three years. Reason being, she died trying to base jump with nothing more than her blanket. She was dumb, but I didn’t stop her because she had succeed before. I don’t pretend to understand the physics behind it and I didn’t want to be the man who held her back. She respected me for that and I for her fearlessness. Anyways, I am getting off track.

This was an issue because we never discussed our sex life to anyone, yet here it was out in the open like I was the main character in some episode of Sex and The City. I had my people ask around where this came from and they said people watched it. And not just that, but my whole life. When I was born, my awkward teenage years, stuff I did with vegetables for...experiments. Private stuff that no one could have known about me. And it didn’t stop there. There was footage of stuff that had yet to happen. Like when earlier in the week I went to get a taco at El Toro Tacos. This footage was on a VHS tape that apparently a lot of people had already seen. And rumor had it they even saw how I died.

Needless to say, I had to get a hold of this tape. This was way too personal and if my enemies got a hold of it, they would use it against me. Luckily, my team was able to track down the VHS to Little Gambino’s Video Store on 5th and Grand. The bad news was the owner hated my guts. Probably why, once he attained this tape, he had private screenings of it everyday. It never left his store. If people asked about it, he had it cued up in the backroom somewhere. I exhausted all my resources and connections to get a shot at this tape, so it left me no choice. I needed to steal it. My right hand man, Rico, got the layout of the building. Three rows of movie shelves ran in the middle and behind the counter, at the end, was a private viewing area concealed by a red velvet curtain. What was behind that was a mystery at the time since it was always dark.

To help with this unknown, I had Selena. She was our muscle. Toned, but not bulky. What she lacked in weight and sheer strength, she made up in height. The rest of the guys called her Stretch because she was all legs. And I mean all legs. There is a point where long legs stop being an attractive trait and start being a concern. She definitely hit that point years ago. It was like attaching a baby's torso to those stilt legs people walk around with at carnivals. One kick from her though and you wouldn’t be eating solid food for a month. Rounding out my small infiltration team was Barkins. She was a dog. A grey pitbull to be exact. I called her Barkins because she never barked. It was ironic. I could have brought any number of my other guys, but these three I knew I could trust not to say anything if the VHS was playing when we got inside.

Once night fell we made our way inside. Selena kicked the door in and Rico worked his magic on the alarm system. It left me and Barkins to make a beeline for the backroom. There were no lights on the inside, but that didn’t matter since the shelves basically guided us to the back counter. I leaped over the top with Barkins and through the red veil to find...an empty room. Nothing was in the back. No projector, seats, anything. Four white walls and a single light shone above. Rico and Selena joined me in my utter disappointment.

“What gives?” Rico said.

“Why is there just an empty room?” Selena said.

“Maybe there is a secret door?”

“Or maybe he moved it out? Someone might have snitched,” Rico said, looking up at Selena.

“Bite me, Rico.”

Barkins was never good with commands and drove her fangs into Selena’s legs like she was eating a giant dog bone. Selena screamed and tried to kick Barkins off her, but Barkins clung to her.

“Get her off!” Selena said.

She did a roundhouse kick, trying to release the dog, but instead she landed her blow on me, launching me through the pathetic excuse for a wall and down two stories into a vat of white cream. When I landed in this vat, I thought I died. Above me was a tall ceiling, unlike the building I was in and I was swimming in the best yogurt I had ever tasted.

“Are you okay?” Rico yelled from above.

“Yes. Get me out of here.”

It wasn’t long until my vat of happiness soured. On the catwalk next to me was an orangutan wearing a red bandana and dragging a sign behind him. It wasn’t any orangutan. It was Kevin’s orangutan. Kevin was my rival. He always tried to move in on my territory and this time he had me where he wanted me. The orangutan held up the sign, ‘I know you like some flavor in your yogurt, I hope you like this one.’

By the time I read the sign, I noticed the stream of piss pattering in front of me. I tried to stop the orangutan, but he had the high ground and the yogurt acted like quicksand against my attempts to move. My team was still in the room above me laughing at my pain.

“Are you going to get down here and help?” I yelled up to them.

“Selena needs to go to the hospital. Dog bites are no joke. We’ll be back after that,” Rico said.

“Are you shitting me right now?”

“No, but that monkey might,” Selena said, laughing before the pain stopped her.

“We’ll be back. Don’t worry,” Rico said and they all left me. Even Barkins. That little bitch.

Then the rest is history. The orangutan runs off once the tactical men fall from the sky and I am just waiting for one of them to save me from this once delicious hell. I still don’t know what was on that tape, but I do know one thing. With friends like mine, who needed enemies.

The Warlord Provider

The sun was high in the sky and white cloud floated above, smiling down upon the land. The land, however, did not smile back. Dust and blood was all that laid on the barren land. My people were almost done loading the bodies into the trucks while I lit another cigar with a magnifying glass. It was one of my many talents, alongside organizing military strikes and earning the trust of my soldiers. I let out a little puff of smoke, reminding me of my daughter’s favorite animal, a dragon.

She was the reason I even bothered to kill people in the first place. Ever since her mother died, it had been difficult to get her to eat anything. She was growing weary and everywhere I went, I failed to find a chef able or willing to feed my daughter. A month ago I thought I was close. She would eat most of the meals Boris would make for her, but he had to go and sleep with my new girlfriend. If a man is that dumb, he could never last in my company.

I walked across the deserted land to a single clay home. No bullet holes pierced the dwelling, nor did anyone try to even run to it during the battle. I entered the dwelling and found a young man no older than seventeen. He wore nothing but brown shorts, but was more nourished than the rest I had slaughtered. The man was hunched over a kettle, breathing in the delicious fumes.

“What are you doing?” I asked the young man.

“I am cooking. Would you consider sparing my life, if I share my meal?”

I walked halfway out of the small dwelling and waved at one of my soldiers. He came at once, bringing my daughter with him. The braids in her hair were almost thicker than her arms, and hardly a shade darker than her skin. Watching her come toward me brought both great happiness and pain. If she did not eat soon I knew I would lose her. The last real thing I had in this world.

“Leave us,” I told my soldier and took my daughter’s bony hand.

Together we went inside and the young man was scooping small golden tubes out of the kettle. They stuck together like the conjugated blood of my enemies, filling the bowl. He put a wood spoon in the bowl and handed it to me.

“Alright sweetie, try this,” I said, crouching down to her.

My daughter took a sniff of the golden food and grabbed the spoon. She ate a spoonful and her face lit up like I hadn’t seen since her mother was around.

“Yum! This is tasty!”

I couldn’t have been more thrilled. A food she finally liked. I had to know the secret.

“Young man, what is this and how do you make it?”

“It’s Mac and Cheese. You just add noodles and melted cheese.”

“Could you repeat this every time if you had those ingredients?”

“From scratch? No. I follow the instructions on the box,” he said, holding up a blue box that said Kraft on it.

“Who is Kraft? Where can I find him?”

“You can find it in town, a few miles north of here. You can even keep my last box. Just follow the instructions and it will taste the same every time,” he said, giving me his last box. His words were music to my ears.

No more professional chefs. I read the words on the box and it was clear to understand. Bring water to boil, add the contents from the box, stir. Even my soldiers could make food for her, it was that simple. All I needed was a kettle and something to heat it with. I looked at the box in my hand like my soldiers looked at gold. For me, this was more than gold. It was the key to my daughter’s future. I smiled at her while she gobbled up the rest of her food. Everything was gone, down to the last noodle. I knew my quest was not over and that my daughter would be hungry again, but I finally had hope in my grasp and I wasn’t going to let it go without a fight.

Vampire Conservationist

A pale man in a grey suit walked backwards down a dark floor made of coffin lids facing his tour group, a bunch of school children dressed in capes and fake fangs. At the children's side was a chaperone who had been giving him “the look” the entire tour. They came up to a large clear window on their right, framed with wooden stakes and polar bears were playing in the snow.

“On your right, you will see our prized attraction here at the Vampirical Zoo, our Polar Bears,” the pale man said.

The children all ran to the window, pressing their grubby faces against the glass. Their oohs and aahs were music to his ears and took delight in their happiness. The chaperone was more interested in him, sneaking glances while she pretended to care about the polar bears.

“Mr. Stephenson, how much do these polar bears weigh?” Patrica said, wanting to ask a question that was both educational for the students and gave him an opportunity to compliment her on her slimming figure.

“The males can get up about 900 pounds, while the females are usually around half that. They must watch their weight like Mrs. Fellis here," Mr. Stephenson said.

"It's Ms. Fellis," Patricia said, brushing her blonde hair to the side.

"Where do polar bears live?" one of the students said, briefly lifting her face away from the glass to look at him.

"They used to live in Antarctica, but due to the near extinction of them back in 2078 after the ice caps melted, we brought them here to live. So for the foreseeable future they live here in our artificial winter land."

"Do polar bears taste good?" one of the boys said.

"Henry." Patricia glared at the boy.

"It's alright. Polar bears don't taste good to humans, but to vampires they are quite tasty," he said, licking his lips.

"Vampires don't eat polar bears. They suck human blood," a little girl with pigtails said.

"Are you questioning a vampire?" Mr. Stephenson asked, showing his fanged teeth in his smile.

"Yes," the girl giggled.

Mr. Stephenson pretended to suck her neck, tickling her with his fangs and she giggled some more. Patricia was probably jealous of the little girl.

"Okay class, if you are done with the polar bears, feel free to go to the gift shop," Patricia said.

The children all cheered and ran off down the hall, leaving Mr. Stephenson all to herself.

"I have to say, my kids really enjoy your themed zoo."

"I'm glad they like it. At first I didn't think the polar bears fit the theme, but I do enjoy the flavor they provide.”

"And you pull off a very good sexy vampire," she said, ignoring his answer.

"I'm flattered, Ms. Fellis."

"Call me Patricia," she said, stepping closer to him.

Mr. Stephenson leaned in close near her ear. "Patricia. You want to know my secret to my good looks?"

"Desperately," she whispered back.

"Polar bear blood," Mr. Stephenson said and sucked on her neck like a human would.

She closed her eyes and let out a gasp of pleasure. He bit down on her with his fangs, but did not break the skin. Instead his eyes were transfixed on the polar bear. The polar bear made eye contact with him and staggered back in the exhibit. It knew that soon it would fall victim to his bite like the many bears before it that were still stuck deep underground. Their continued existence was only for one true purpose. To satisfy his thirst.

Santa Claus in April

“Honey, get the bat,” Eve whispered, shaking her husband awake in their bed.

“Huh, what’s going on.” Jake rubbed his eyes.

“There is someone downstairs.”

Jake threw the blanket off and rolled out of bed. He grabbed the Louisville Slugger that was leaning against the window sill and left the room. Jake peeked downstairs to see a red butt sticking out his fireplace, legs trying to push his fat body up. Jake ran down the stairs and wound up. With a golf swing, he smashed the stuck man right in-between the legs.

“Ho. Ho. Oh,” the stuck man groaned and slid out of the fireplace. He held his groin and rolled around in pain. The man was dressed like Santa Claus, except his white beard was black from the soot in the chimney.

“If you don't want to get hit again, I suggest you start talking,” Jake said.

“Jake, please. Don’t hit me again!”

“How do you know my name?”

“I’m Santa Claus. I know everyone.”

“Sure you are. And I’m the Easter Bunny,” Jake said, winding up again.

“No Jake! I gave you a red bike on your tenth birthday. Schwinn with little black tassels on the handlebars.”

Jake lowered his bat a little. “How did you know that?”

“I’m Santa Claus. How many times do I have to say it?”

Jake stood there, with his bat still at the ready.

“What’s going on down there?” Eve called from the bedroom.

“This guy claims to be Santa Claus.”

Fast footsteps came rushing from the room. Eve turned on the lights and looked downstairs. Santa Claus was on the ground still holding his groin.

“Uncle Greg!” Eve said and flew down the stairs.

“Uncle Greg?” Jake said to himself.

Eve jumped on Santa Claus and gave him a big hug. Her blue bunny pajamas clashed with his red suit. Jake lowered his bat and scratched his head.

“Um...Eve. Who is Greg?” Jake asked.

“Oh my gosh. I can’t believe I forgot to tell you. Uncle Greg is Santa Claus,” she said.

“I didn’t know you and Jake were together,” Santa Claus said to Eve.

“If you would come to our family get-togethers you would have known. Don’t you get mail at the North Pole?” Eve said.

“Yes, but it is really only relevant to kids. Names, naughty and nice lists, work stuff. I’m going to have to have a chat with my head elf about my missing mail again.”

“Why are you here now? It’s the middle of April.”

“I was looking to find a place to crash for the next few months.”

“Why? What happened?”

“There was a fire at my place and the elves won’t let me stay in the production facility. I tried to reach out to my wife, but we are not on speaking terms right now.”

Eve crossed her arms. “What happened?”

“It was an honest mistake. I thought I was home. There was snow everywhere when I came flying in.”

“What did you do?”

“The lights were out and the door was unlocked. I walked in and went up the stairs to go to bed. Once I crawled under the covers it went from sleepy time to sexy time. I didn’t know she wasn’t my wife until she said something.”

“You didn’t notice it was a different house?”

“All houses seem the same to me after awhile. And your aunt hasn’t touched me in so long I forgot what she felt like.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“I believe it,” Jake said.

“Don’t you go defending him!” Eve said to Jake.

“Eve, give your uncle a break. He is Santa Claus.”

“More like Pervy Claus.”

“I’m sorry I came. I’ll just be going now,” Santa Claus said, sitting up.

“No, you're not. You are welcome to stay here while your house is being repaired,” Jake said.

Eve’s eyes got so big they almost jumped out of her skull. “Jake–”

“Can you excuse us for a minute?” Jake said to Santa Claus, cutting Eve off and pulling her aside.

“He is not staying here,” Eve whispered furiously.

“He is family.”

“But he cheated on Aunt Margaret.”

“And he is still paying for that mistake. Besides, his story sounds plausible.”

“So you just want me to forgive him? Forget he cheated on my aunt?”

“Yeah. Sure it's not ‘tis the season’, but your uncle is reaching out for help. How would you feel if you needed help and your own family wouldn’t help you out?”

Eve glared at Jake, her arms tense at her side and hands balled into a fist that could crush tin cans. It lasted a few seconds before she let go of her anger.

“Fine. I’ll try. But don’t expect me to forget about what he did.”

Jake kissed her on the forehead. “That’s the wonderful gal I know.”

She smiled, taking comfort in the fact that her husband was nothing like the cheater that was standing in her living room. They both turned back to Santa Claus to give him their verdict.

“Alright you can stay. But you will have to sleep on the couch,” Eve said.

“Thank you! Thank you! I promise to get your kids extra nice gifts.”

“We don’t have any kids,” Jake said.

“Not yet,” Santa Claus said, winking at Eve.

Jake turned to Eve. “What is he talking about?”

“I didn’t want to tell you unless I was sure. And I forgot my uncle here always had a knack for telling when a woman was pregnant.”

“So you're pregnant?” Jake said, smiling ear to ear.

“I guess so.”

Jake and Eve embraced each other. Santa Claus stood there unsure what he was supposed to do. Jake put his head to hers.

“This is so exciting! Having a kid of our own,” Jake said.

“Six,” Santa Claus corrected.

Jake and Eve looked at him. “Six?”

“Yeah. I felt six in there. Ultrasound won’t pick that up at this stage, but I assure you there will be six,” Santa Claus said.

“Your uncle doesn’t happen to be wrong from time to time?” Jake asked Eve.

“I have never seen him wrong before,” Eve said.

“Then we’re gonna to need a bigger house.”

Striker's Promise

The dew of the early morning swept across the field, sparkling from the moonlight. Evan dug his feet into the soft ground, lifting his sword at the ready. His opponent was stoic, unconcerned with Evan’s sword.

“Take this!” Evan yelled, charging his opponent. He swung his sword down on his opponent, tearing it apart. Straw fell to the floor and the pumpkin for a head cracked open upon hitting the dirt below. Evan picked up the pumpkin head halves, trying to put it back together.

“I didn’t even get to practice my stabs yet,” Evan said to the pumpkin.

“Evan! Food!” His father called from a small cottage nearby.

Evan left the defeated pumpkin and jogged back to the cottage. He did not make it two feet inside before his father stopped him.

“Take off your boots. And no swords at the table.”

“Yes, Father.”

Evan took off his boots and leaned his sword against the wall, next to the door. He followed the sound of boiling soup into the kitchen. His father was stirring from a large black cauldron that had a fire ablaze underneath it.

“Smells good. What are you making?”

“An old recipe your mother used to make me. It will keep you strong.”

Evan sat down at the small table. “Good. I will need it if I am going to take down that evil sorceress, Calesso.”

“Son, can you please stop talking like that?” his father asked, bringing over a bowl of soup.

“Why? She has laid waste to the kingdom. Just last week a group of knights were slain by her. Someone needs to teach her a lesson.”

“I don’t want you fighting. Especially not for the king.”

“King Ulitch is the only one trying to stop this foul witch. That bitch needs to be put down like the mangy dog she is.”

“That is enough Evan!” his father said, slamming his own bowl on the table.

Evan stopped and took a sip of soup. “I signed up to be a knight.”

“What?” his father’s face turned to concern.

“King Ulitch himself walked by just as I signed up. He actually shook my hand. Like I was his equal.”

His father shook his head. “Son. Why did you do that?”

“Because it was the right thing to do. Calesso must be stopped and the King believes in me.”

“Calesso isn’t the problem, King Ulitch is.”

“How can you say that?”

“Because I know her.”

The kitchen was silent, except for the bubbling soup.

“So you're a traitor to the kingdom.”

“So are you.”

“If I don’t turn you in I am,” Evan said, pushing away from the table.

“No, you are by blood.”

Evan walked back to the door, grabbing his sword. “The king will forgive me. Might even forgive you if you tell him what he needs to know.”

“Like that you are her son.”

Evan stopped dead in his tracks and turned around. “I’m what?”

“I should have told you this a long time ago. I just didn’t want it to get out by accident.”

“I’m Calesso’s son,” Evan said to himself.

“Please sit.”

Evan put the sword back down and came over to the table again. Each step he grew more and more weak. His stomach turned and his head spun.

“When your mother and I first met, I was a knight for King Titus. I was sent on a mission to procure a potion that would heal him of his illness. There were rumors that a herbalist in the forest had such a cure. I searched for a week before I decided to go back. On my way back I found a little cottage near an open field. It was the only place I had found during my journey and lucky for me it was the place. Calesso was so kind and willing to help after I explained what was happening. She didn’t even charge for the cure,” his father said.

“I guess time changes people.” Evan scoffed.

His father ignored Evan’s cutting comment. “The problem was she didn’t have enough when I arrived. She told me to take the one bottle she had and more would be ready when I returned. This went on for over a month and each time it got harder to leave her. The king eventually got better, yet I continued going back to her. I had fallen for her and she for me.”

“So why did she turn against the kingdom?”

“After one of our more memorable visits, I grabbed the vial she had on the table and left. What I didn’t realize was that it was not the right one. By the time I made it back and gave it to the king, it was too late. Calesso arrived just as he took it and tried to stop the effects, but his death was unstoppable. I was going to admit to my mistake, but Calesso wouldn’t let me and became the villain the new king needed. To protect me.”

“She plagued the kingdom so you wouldn’t get in trouble for King Titus’s death? And you went along with it?”

“I wasn’t going to at first. But when I found out she was pregnant and she had already done what she did, there was no other choice. One of us had to be able to take care of you. Give you a life not on the run.”

Evan put his hands over his eyes. “My mother is a witch.”

“Sorceress.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“Never found a good time. I was afraid you would try to stick up for her and risk the wrath of the king.”

“I must see her.”

“Now is not a good time.”

“Why?”

His father scratched the back of his head. “Well...she is pregnant again.”

“You still see her?”

“Nothing can keep me away from her. Not for long anyways.”

“Then how is she killing all those knights if she is pregnant?”

“There is a reason there are no survivors.”

Evan let his father’s words sink in before the realization hit him in the face. “You? The man who refuses to spar with me. Killed six knights by yourself?”

“Your mother was in danger. I had no other choice. And that is exactly why I didn’t want you to join.”

“This is going to be a problem then.”

“Why?”

“I head out at dawn tomorrow. To the Far Reach Forest. They think she is hiding there.”

“She’s not there. But now that you work for the king you must go.”

“Where is she?”

“When you come back, I will make sure you get to see her. Maybe even your new sister too.”

“You promise?”

“Promise.”

***

Evan kneeled on the bright red carpet before the King, his armor still stained with goblin’s blood.

“My King, you hailed for me.”

“Yes, Sir Evan Striker. I heard you had returned from your quest to find Calesso to no avail,” King Ulitch said.

“My King, we searched for weeks and we only found an outpost of goblins. We tried to befriend them to find her whereabouts, but alas they left us no choice.”

King Ulitch waved away his two servants next to his throne. They left from the chambers and King Ulitch approached Evan.

“That is of no consequence. If they weren’t going to turn on Calesso, they were better off dead anyways. Could you point out on a map where you traveled?”

“Yes, My King.”

“You can stand up. And drop the formalities. Call me David.”

He stood up and smiled. “Yes...David.”

“Evan I heard you fought gallantly in the forest. Much like your father used to when he served under my father.”

“I was just trying to best serve you.”

“And humble like him too. You know, when I was growing up, your father and mine were best of friends. They would drink and jest with one another. Never in public, but behind these walls you could never ask for a more loyal friend than him. When I heard that you were going to join my army, all I could think of was how happy my father was having a close friend. Now, I know we don’t know each other, but I hope that we could become friends like that one day.”

“I would be honored as well.”

“Excellent. You must be tired from your travels. Feel free to stay at my castle and get cleaned up. Tomorrow you can speak with the cartographer.”

“Actually David, I was hoping to see my father again. It has been awhile and I do miss him.”

“I completely understand. If my father was around I would want to see him too.”

“Is there anything else you need from me before I go?”

“Yes. There was a question that kept gnawing at me lately. Do you happen to know why your father quit his service from the kingdom?”

“He never said. I never even knew he was a knight, until after I joined.”

“Hmm. When you see him, please ask him. When my father died, he was the only one who left the service. At the time I didn’t think much of it, but as I have gotten older I wish I knew the answer.”

“I’ll ask him.”

“Good. Until we meet again.” King Ulitch dipped his head slightly.

Evan bowed and left his throne room. He thought it was strange that King Ulitch wanted to know more about his father, but he put that thought away. Instead, he dwelled on the promise his father made. To see his mother. His horse carried him away from the castle, past the village and into the forest. He traveled for an hour before he arrived home. The moon was rising in the sky and the fresh smell of stew escaped the cottage. He disembarked his horse and went inside, eager to see his father. Evan entered and looked into the kitchen to see his father manning the cauldron and three bowls set on the table.

“Father.”

His father turned around and let go of the ladle. “Son!”

His father ran to him and hugged him tight. Evan patted him on the back.

“You smell like goblin,” his father said.

“I haven’t had time to clean up.”

“You better. Food will be ready soon.”

“Are we expecting someone?” Evan asked, motioning toward the bowls.

“You get cleaned up. Don’t want your mother seeing you for the first time in goblin blood.”

“Too late,” Calesso said, coming out from the doorway that led into the kitchen.

Calesso’s green and black hair coursed down her fitting black dress. Her face ghostly white and her lips crimson. She walked over to them, her dress making her seem like she floated instead. “You look so much more handsome in person.”

“Mother?”

“Yes dear. It’s me.”

Evan was frozen, his emotions swirling. He thought about what it would be like to see her for the first time during his travels, but his wildest imagination did not prepare him. Calesso wrapped her arms around him and he knew in that moment it was his mother. So full of warmth that it transcended the physical. Her love pierced his heart like only a mother’s love could. He held her for a few moments before letting go.

“So Evan, why do you have goblin’s blood on your armor?” Calesso asked, wiping the blood from her hand back on his shirt.

“That is a long story.”

“Tonight you have my undivided attention. Your father has generously offered to make food and take care of little Erin while we catch up.”

“Erin?”

“I said your little sister might be around by the time you came back. Congrats. You’re a big brother,” his father said.

“Can I see her?” Evan asked.

“Later. Your mother just put her to sleep. Don’t want to wake her,” his father said.

Evan’s father had only finished his sentence before the door was knocked down. Knights with swords drawn came pouring in followed by King Ulitch. Evan’s father moved Calesso and Evan behind him.

“Evan. You know after our conversation I had a thought. Why would your father, Sir Striker, leave the service after his best friend was killed? Not even wanting to seek revenge. The only thing I could think of was guilt. And he had a child, yet I never knew the mother. So a crazy thought came to mind. What if Calesso and Sir Striker were lovers? But now, it doesn’t seem so crazy, does it?

“King Ulitch, your father’s death was a mistake. It was my fault he died. Not Calesso’s. Not my son’s,” Evan’s father said.

“It is far too late for apologies.”

Evan’s father drew Evan’s sword from his scabbard and swung at the nearest knight. “Run! I’ll hold them off!”

Calesso pulled Evan away and into the other room where little Erin was still sleeping peacefully in her bed. Calesso kicked the door closed and sat on the bed next to Erin.

“Take Erin,” Calesso said.

Evan picked Erin up in his arms, her little body so fragile and tired.

“I can’t stay here. I need to help father.”

“He knows what he is doing. We need to get out of here,” Calesso said, moving her hands in a pattern on top of the bed. She ended with a punch and the entire bed glowed like an emerald in the sun. Calesso grabbed Evan by the collar and he fell on the bed, cradling Erin safely in his arms. Calesso tucked Evan's dangling legs onto the bed and chanted something he could not hear. In an instant the door crashed open and the three were gone. Nothing left but a scorched bed sheet to prove they were ever there.

***

Evan’s eyes opened to a blue sky above and a smoldering fire next to him. He sat up to get his bearings. Small destroyed wooden homes were scattered throughout the plain, some still on fire. Arrows were stuck in the ground, splintered wood scattered about. Evan had been here before. This was the goblin’s outpost in the Far Reach Forest. But where were the bodies? Evan looked down at his lap. Erin was gone.

“Erin!”

“Over here darling,” Calesso called from one of the larger, partially torn down cobblestone houses.

Evan went over to her. Inside, a small fire was brewing and Erin was sleeping in Calesso’s arms. A pile of dead goblins were in the corner, hacked to pieces. Evan remembered killing the goblins, maybe slashing a few in half, but the severed limbs in the corner looked excessive.

“How did we get here?” Evan asked.

“Here? I am not entirely sure. I was aiming for a warm place, but sometimes magic has a mind of it’s own.”

Evan felt dizzy, bracing himself against the wall. “Magic?”

“I can see you are not used to traveling like this. Your father never had the stomach for it either.”

“Father. We have to go back. I have to help him,” Evan said before placing both his hands on the wall, focusing on standing upright.

“You are in no condition to go anywhere. Just lay down by the fire. You will feel better.”

Evan crawled down to the ground, curling up next to the fire. His body relaxed and felt less dizzy. He took in the warmth of the fire, looking up at his mother rocking Erin in her arms.

“Mother...do you think father is alright?”

“I know he is.”

“How can you be so sure? He was outnumbered.”

“The king would never risk killing him. He is too valuable.”

“To the king? How?”

“He knows I will come for him.”

“Lure you into a trap.”

“Precisely.”

“Then what do you plan on doing?”

“Right now, my plan is making sure you two are alright.”

Erin woke up from her nap. Her little blue eyes blinked at her mother and yawned.

“Evan, can you hold her? I will make us some food.”

Evan sat up and took Erin from her. Erin’s eyes got big, staring at Evan, unsure who he was. He rocked her back and forth, smiling at her. Meanwhile, Calesso grabbed a severed goblin arm from the pile and stuck it over the fire. The aroma smelt sweet, unlike what they smelt like when he slaughtered them up. Calesso dug her fingernail into the skin and dragged it along the entire goblin arm, creating a groove. The goblin arm turned black, except inside the groove, where a green paste bubbled.

“Alright Erin, time to eat,” Calesso said, moving the goblin arm toward Erin’s face.

“Are you sure that is good to eat?” Evan asked.

“Goblin paste is actually really good for newborns. The problem is finding goblins.”

Calesso scooped the paste out with three fingers and the paste sizzled upon touching her hands. She kneeled down and put her fingers up to Erin’s mouth. Erin moved her head away.

“Oh, you need to see mommy eat it.” Calesso ate the paste, making sure Erin was watching, “Mmmhh. Good.”

Erin clapped her hands together awkwardly. Calesso scooped up another three fingers full and Erin ate it. She did this a few more times before Erin didn’t want anymore. Calesso then offered the arm to Evan. Evan looked at it like she was offering him maggots.

“Just like your father. Never liked trying new things.”

“I like trying new things...just not sure about eating goblin puss.”

“You really are your father’s son. Lucky for me, I know how to get you to eat it,” she said, scooping up a handful and covering her hand over his mouth. “This hand doesn’t move until you swallow it.”

Evan’s cheeks were full with the mushy paste. He looked at his mother, smiling warmly at him while Erin’s baby laughter filled the room. Evan relented and swallowed it in one gulp like it was water.

“Wasn’t that bad, was it?” Calesso said.

“No. It wasn’t.”

“New favorite food?”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

“Fair enough,” she said and scooped up Erin from Evan.

Evan watched Calesso tickle Erin’s nose with her finger. “So Mother, what compelled you to have another child after all these years?”

Calesso blushed. “Honestly, Erin was an accident. I ran out of potions that would stop me from getting pregnant and I hadn’t seen him at that point in over a month. Your mother has needs you know.”

“Okay, I get it. No need to say more.”

“But once I got pregnant again, it really put everything in perspective for me. I should have stayed with you and your father. I was so afraid to lose you, I never got to be with you. And I don’t want to repeat that with Erin.”

Evan grabbed his mother’s hand and rubbed the back of her hand with his thumb. “What matters is that you are with me now. I know father would have wanted that.”

Calesso smiled and leaned her head against his. “Don’t worry. We are going to get your father back. This family has been separated long enough.”

***

“We only have one more Goblin head,” Evan said, picking up the last one in the corner of the room by the few strands of hair left.

“Then we will need to make it count,” Calesso said.

Evan handed her the goblin head and she dropped it straight down on the fire. Once it was consumed by the fire, it rose above the flames and glowed white hot. It looked like an orb of light instead of the grotesque green head it was earlier.

“Show me the King,” she said to the floating orb.

The orb changed to show King Ulitch in a dark dungeon lit only by a few flame torches. He was punching a man who was suspended by chains. The groans of the man and shaking of his shackles echoed out of the orb. Calesso gritted her teeth, watching her husband being beat by King Ulitch. Evan was equally tense, squeezing his empty scabbard.

“It has been a week. How much longer do you think you will be able to last here?” King Ulitch said.

“This is the punishment I deserve. Not my family.”

“Wrong. Your family is just as guilty in this. But I only want Calesso. If you tell me where she is, I will spare your son.”

Evan’s father spit at King Ulitch. King Ulitch wiped his face.

“If you won’t give up Calesso. And she apparently won’t come for you. I don’t see the point in keeping you around.” King Ulitch drew his sword.

Calesso frantically drew in the dirt with her fingers. Evan went over to grab Erin, who was sleeping soundly.

“Stay with Erin. I will get your father,” Calesso said.

“But we need to stick together.”

Calesso stopped drawing and faced Evan. “You need to take care of Erin. I can’t protect her over there. Promise me you will keep her safe.”

“But–”

“Promise me!”

“I will. I promise.”

She kissed him on the forehead and punched the ground. Dirt kicked up and put out the fire. The floating orb turned to dust, sprinkling over the smoldering fire. Evan stood holding Erin, shielding her from the dust. He waited for his mother to return at that very spot, but every passing moment felt longer and longer. The sun started to set and he knew he had to get the fire going again. He placed Erin in a little makeshift crib his mother made out of bones and one of his undershirts, while he searched for more firewood. Not wanting to travel far, he collected pieces from other destroyed houses in the outpost when he heard the snapping of sticks in the forest.

Evan looked over to where the sound came from, but saw nothing. He continued collecting wood when he heard the croaking of goblins. Spinning around with his arms full, three goblins charged him, with swords waving in the air. Evan threw the pile of sticks at the first goblin and reached to his empty scabbard. He grabbed air and looked down, realizing he wasn’t armed. Evan backpedaled as the other two goblins slashed at him, until he tripped over a rock jutting out of the ground. The two goblins put their swords to his neck, while the first goblin approached them and spoke.

“What did you do to this village? What did you do to our brothers and sisters?” the goblin asked.

Evan said nothing. It was better than telling them he slaughtered and ate their people. Before the goblin spoke again, Erin started crying. The goblins looked up toward the sound and breathed in deep.

“Mmmhh. I smell a small human. What a delicacy,” the first goblin said and started walking toward Erin’s cries.

Evan looked to his right and saw a stone the size of his fist. He slapped the swords away and rolled to grab the stone. The nearest goblin stabbed at Evan, but he deflected it with the stone. Evan got to his feet and followed up with a strike to the goblin’s head, knocking it to the floor. The other goblin stabbed at him and Evan narrowly evaded it. Evan threw the stone at that goblin. The goblin felt the wind from the stone passing its head before Evan charged head first, tackling the goblin to the ground. Evan wrestled with the goblin over the sword, while the other goblin had gotten up and tried to stab Evan in the back. He rolled over, lifting the sword in the air and both goblins impaled each other. Evan pushed off the ground and ran to Erin. The goblin was inside the home, standing over Erin, taking in the little human’s scent.

“I am eating well tonight,” the goblin said over Erin’s cries and raised its sword.

Evan dashed inside and pushed the goblin into the cobblestone wall, the sword flying in the corner of the room. He mounted the goblin and began punching it until green blood came oozing out of its eyes. Evan stopped out of exhaustion and rose to his feet, wiping off the green blood on his trousers. Erin was still crying.

“It’s okay. I’m here,” Evan said, picking up Erin and rocking her.

She started to calm down in his arms and he walked outside to get away from the goblin he smashed. Outside was a worse sight, however. A large group of goblins were coming out of the treeline, twenty strong.

“Human!” one of the goblins yelled, pointing at him.

Evan ran away, into the other side of the forest. The sound of angry goblins chased him through the forest, but with each step their voices became muffled by the trees. He kept going until he did not hear their voices again and the foliage was getting denser. Covering Erin the best he could, he pushed through the brush until he arrived at a dirt path that led to a small cottage, much like his father’s. The light from the cottage beckoned him, as nighttime was almost upon them. He made his way up to it and knocked on the door. After he did that, a thought blew through his head. What if it was another goblin house? He backed away from the door and it opened. Inside was a large woman with long brown hair.

“Who goes there?” the woman said.

“My name is Sir–” Evan said.

“You have a baby! Get in quick. Before the goblins smell her.”

Evan went inside and was greeted by a mastiff that walked up next to him. On his left was a kitchen table and on his right was a wood floor with two children sleeping. The woman closed the door and motioned him to sit.

“I’m sorry to barge in here like this,” Evan said.

“It is alright. What were you two doing out there at this time of night?”

“Goblins attacked us. There were too many for me to fight so I took my sister and ran.”

The woman looked down at Erin. “Where is her mother?”

“I...I don’t know,” Evan said.

“When was the last time she was fed?”

“A few hours ago.”

She put her hands out. “Do you mind?”

He gave Erin to her and she cradled her. His arms felt lighter after not holding her anymore.

“I didn’t know anyone lived out here.”

“Not many do. My husband, Hillard and I moved out here quite a few years ago. He trades in special lumber and wanted to be closer to his supply. I wanted to live out in the forest and raise children, so we both got what we wanted.”

“So those are your two?”

“Oh yes. They are the best children I could ever ask for. I miss them as babies though. So tiny and innocent,” she said, pushing her nose close to Erin’s.

Evan started to think about what his mother said to him. To keep Erin safe. He knew he couldn’t take her with him. Erin wouldn’t last more than a few days and this woman knew how to take care of a child. She even wanted another baby.

“I hate to impose, but could you take care of my sister? Only until I find our mother. When I return I will be able to pay you,” Evan asked.

The woman lit up with delight. “I would love to.”

Evan leaned forward and rubbed his finger against Erin’s soft skin. He knew it would be the last time he would see her in a long time. His last thoughts, I’ll come back for you. I promise.

_________________________

If you want to read more of this story, my first novel, Striker's Search, takes place after these events. Buy it here!

Timezone Voodoo

I want to start by saying I love my girlfriend. She is the best. Heedy is thoughtful and a very giving person. But her timing is terrible. This is the tale of how I wound up living with her parents in the Magic Realm instead of Iowa. Don't get me wrong, her parents are wonderful and their place by the ocean is much nicer than Iowa could ever be, but I want to warn anyone interested in a witch that your life can change drastically, so be prepared. Anyways to the story.

It was a Monday...no Tuesday. I was flown out to Britain for a business meeting with our European branch to work on logistics for our new line of cereal, Cracker Yaks. It was basically Corn Flakes shaped like yaks. The most important part was Thursday, where I had a big presentation for the board. If I aced it, there was a promotion in it for me. That prospect also brought a lot of stress that Heedy somehow picked up on during my telephone call with her that night.

"Hello Sweetie, how was your flight?" Heedy said.

"It was long, but I'm finally here,” I said, half-thinking about my upcoming presentation.

"You sound tired...and a little stressed. Is everything ok?"

Heedy could always sense more than I let on, even when I tried to hide it. Made lying impossible, especially when I was tired.

"I'm a little nervous about my presentation on Thursday, but nothing I can't handle."

"I wish I could be with you right now. Give you those feet massages you like so much."

"I think you like them more than me,” I said, looking at my wiggling toes.

She giggled. "Guilty. But don't lie, you like them."

"Well I should be back Saturday. Then you can do whatever you want to me."

"I don't know if I can wait that long," she said, rummaging through something.

"What are you doing over there?"

"I found it."

"Found what?"

"Oh you'll see. You have a good afternoon. I got work to do. Kisses."

She hung up before I could correct her and I laid back on my soft bed. Little did I know, what she had planned was going to change my whole life.

The next day came around with no issues. It was a full day of meetings and I got a lot of work done. Even got to see the distribution center and it was better than I imagined. My joints felt a little like I pulled something during the tour, but otherwise fine. Everything was going so well I had time to finish my presentation. Once I finished, my nerves really kicked in. I gave Heedy a call, hoping hearing her voice would calm me.

"Sweetie! How was your day?"

"Really good actually. Got a lot work done."

"You're still stressed aren't you?"

"Maybe."

"Don't worry, I think I have just the thing," she said and placed the phone down. I heard her feet patter away and come back. "Okay, do you feel anything?"

"What?"

"How about now?"

I shifted the phone to my other ear. "Am I supposed to feel something?"

"Hmm. I must be missing something."

"What are you doing?"

"I wanted to surprise you. I made a voodoo doll so I could give you those feet rubs you like so much."

"Heedy, that is so thoughtful. But I'm going to be home soon."

"I know...it's just I know you are nervous about tomorrow and I wanted to do something nice."

"Just you talking with me is all I need to get through tomorrow.”

"Awww."

"I am going to get some sleep. Make sure I'm fully rested. I will call you tomorrow when I smash that presentation out of the park."

"Okay Sweetie. Kisses."

"Kisses."

The next day arrived and started well. Finalized some numbers, signed a few things, and some guys in the office took me out for lunch before the big presentation. With a little liquid courage and a full stomach I was ready for the presentation. I got to the board room and sat down at the long table. I was the only guy there, surrounded by attractive executives. If I didn't have eyes for Heedy, it would have been hard to focus on this meeting. Each one was more attractive than the next with their slimming suits and well groomed hair.

I sat there listening to the board go through the agenda items and my feet felt like a soft hand was sliding against it. It was followed by pressure in two spots at the base of my heel. I wiggled my toes while my feet relaxed. It was Heedy giving me a foot massage. I smiled to myself, thinking how I could have such an amazing woman in my life, until I realized it was morning at home. My face turned to dread as the sensation of her hands moved up my legs. 

"Mr. Portan, can you show us your presentation?" Mrs. Gorfred asked.

"Are you sure you don't want me to wait till the end?"

"Nonsense. Go ahead."

I blinked hard and tried to focus on anything but Heedy's invisible hands moving up to my groin.

"So…"

"Please stand up so we can all see you."

I hesitated and realized the sensation was gone. I didn't have much time. I shot up from my seat and adjusted my tie.

"Alright. Our newest brand, Cracker Yaks had been extremely success in the…" I said, continuing my speech. The speech wasn't the important part as much as the growing bulge in my pants from Heedy. I tried to think of anything else while I spoke. Alligators, monster trucks, the actual presentation. Nothing worked. Heedy was great, but her timing was awful.

"Mr. Portan, I'm going to stop you. Are you…"

She didn't even get to finish her sentence before…well...let's just say the woman next to me was very uncomfortable. And the one across the table licked her lips.

"Mr. Portan! You can leave now. Consider yourself fired," Mrs. Gorfred said. 

I ran out of there fast before Heedy got me in any more trouble. I held onto my pants, unsure if she could rip them off or not, as I dashed out of the room into the hall. I pulled out my company cell phone and called her. 

"Hey Sweetie. How was your morning?"

"It's 1pm here. I was in my meeting.”

"Oh my gosh! Sweetie, is everything okay? I didn't do that during your presentation, did I?"

I didn't answer.

"Oh no. Sweetie. I'm so sorry. What happened?"

"I was fired. Let's hope I don't get charged with anything."

"I didn't mean to. I just wanted to do something special for you. I didn't realize what time it was there.”

"I know. It will be okay."

I didn't get to say any more before a police officer came up to me. "Sir, can you come with me?"

"Who is that?" Heedy said.

"What can I help you with, Officer?" I asked.

"You are under arrest for sexual assault. If you come with me now I won't put the cuffs on you."

"What's going on?" Heedy said, her voice shaky.

"Heedy, I gotta go. I am getting arrested. Can you call me a lawyer?" I said to Heedy.

"No. Don't hang up. James!"

"I love you." I said and hung up. 

The officer was nice enough to escort me out with some dignity, but I had to spend two days in jail. At the time, it was pretty grim. I had nobody and I never got that lawyer. The worst part was I didn't hear from Heedy. Even though she got me fired and jailed, I still loved her. You'd swear she put a spell on me. To go through what I did and not resent her. I didn't make it to my third day, when the brick wall behind me crumbled. Floating there was Heedy on her broom wearing a grey trench coat. Her brown hair flowing with the cool night wind.

"Come on! Let's go!"

"What are you doing?"

"I'm breaking you out of here."

"Heedy. I'm sure the charge isn't that bad. Didn't you call a lawyer?"

"All of the women at your presentation are filing charges. You could be in jail for the rest of your life. I won't standby and let you take that for something I did."

The guards came running to my cell, fumbling with the keys. Their orders for me to step away from Heedy were forced to the background. My focus was on her. I smiled. "You know you're gonna have to do more than this to repay me?"

"Oh, I have a few things in mind," she said, winking at me. 

I jumped on her broom and we flew away, never to return to Britain or Iowa. That's it. That's my story. So remember, if you date a witch you could end up a fugitive, but you will never find a partner more loyal. Or kinky. 

Chooser of The Chosen One

A frail old man held up an oversized card with a picture of someone on it and a name scribbled below.

"Not him," The Chooser said, giving it a cursory glance.

The old man tossed the card amongst the sea of cards that covered the floor and reached up to grab another card from the stack next to him. The Chooser paced back and forth, parting the sea of unchosen cards with his feet. The old man shook, reaching for the next card.

"Are you sure this is the best way to select the next Chosen One?" the old man asked, his voice shaky and hoarse. 

"If you have a better idea, I am all ears," The Chooser said.

The old man held up the next card. It was a picture of a simple woman with hair as dark as her skin and green eyes. The Chooser stopped pacing and went in closer to get a better look.

"Is she the Chosen One?" the old man said, hoping this tedious task would be over.

"No, but WOW she is beautiful. Tasha."

The old man tilted the card toward him. "I guess so."

"Guess so? You must be blind in your old age."

"We have passed so many people they all look the same to me."

"That's why you don't have the gift."

"We passed plenty of suitable candidates. I'm starting to think you don't know who is supposed to be The Chosen One."

The old man was right. The Chooser had no idea who to pick. His mom and dad always told him he would just know. An instinct. The problem was no one seemed worthy. After seeing millions of faces from all over the world, he was still no closer to choosing. The only person who stood out this whole time was Tasha, which gave him an idea.

"I need to speak with Tasha."

"The woman on the card? Why?"

"She is the Chosen One."

"You just said a minute ago she–"

"Nevermind what I said. Take me to her."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"The Chooser can never speak to the Chosen One."

"Fine she isn't the Chosen One. Happy?"

"No. I'm confused."

The Chooser smacked his palm over his own face. "Can you just take me to her? Please."

The old man flicked the back of the card, creating a blue and gold portal of fire to open up.

"Make it quick. I don't want to be at it all day with these cards."

The Chooser stepped through the portal and was whisked away to a cottage in the middle of a field. The portal appeared on the ceiling and dropped The Chooser in the kitchen. He smacked his head on the corner of the wooden table while falling to the floor. Tasha threw her kettle of soup in the air, startled by the commotion behind her.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" she asked, holding her ladle like a baseball bat. 

The Chooser rubbed his head and looked up at her. "Hello. I'm The...Chase."

"The Chase?"

"I mean Chase. Sorry, my head is kind of spinning right now," he said, holding his head.

"What are you doing in my house?"

Chase pointed to the ceiling. The portal still swirling blue and gold. Tasha jaw dropped and looked back at Chase. 

"You're a wizard," she said.

"No. I'm...well..."

She put down her ladle and knelt beside him. "Are you hurt? I can't have you die in my own home. Our home."

"I'm not a wizard–"

"My aunt told me a wizard would visit me. She never said he would be so handsome. Oh this is so exciting!" she said touching his face.

"Again not a wizard," he said, sitting up.

"Then explain the portal you created above us?"

"I used it to come here. To talk to you."

"Yes I'll marry you!" she screeched, giving him a hug so tight it would have turned a bunny into paste.

Chase sat there confused why she was coming on to him so strong. Sure she was a beautiful woman, but this was...unexpected.

"Come again?"

"You are the man from my aunt's vision. A wizard. That will take me as his bride and we will shire the Chosen One who will save all humanity. Or at least that's how my aunt tells it."

Chase pondered this new information. It would explain why he was unable to choose anyone. And why she stood out to him in the endless sea of cards. But his parents never mentioned anything about finding a wife. Let alone being the creator of the Chosen One.

"So we are supposed to get married? And the Chosen One is supposed to be our son?"

"Daughter. But yes," she said, grinning ear to ear.

"This is a lot for me to process."

"That a beautiful woman wants to have a baby with you? You don't give yourself enough credit."

"So what? I'm supposed to just marry someone I don't know because her aunt made a prophecy."

"...yes…" she said, realizing she may have come on too strong with him.

He tapped his finger underneath his chin, looking into her glowing emerald eyes. She was a one of a kind, but the idea of marrying someone so fast made him nervous. There was only one way to ease his nerves.

"I'll tell you what. Do you have a coin?" Chase asked.

"I sure do," she said, reaching into her pocket, all too ready with a gold coin. One side of the coin had their leader, Mortamus stamped in it and on the other was a picture of a horse.

"Heads, I marry you. Tails, I don't," Chase said.

"Go ahead already," she said giddy.

He flipped the coin. It was about to touch the brick floor when she hugged him again. "See, it was destiny!"

She never looked at the coin and didn't need to. It was heads. Chase picked her up and really looked at her for the first time. She was over the moon for him, bobbing her head as he held her still. Her smile beaming so bright it could blind people. He felt a flutter in his chest like he never had before. 

"I guess that settles it. I choose you."

The Gun Did It

The detective was sitting at the table, head concealed by the folder that was inches from his face. His eyes scanned through the report, looking for more information on his suspect. A dim light shined from above while his fellow officers snickered behind the glass observation window.

"Alright Mr. Glock, where were you on the night of the fifteenth?" Detective Ruso asked.

Mr. Glock said nothing. The room was quiet like no one was there.

"Mr. Glock, you are the prime suspect in my murder investigation. You might want to start talking," he said, still transfixed by the report.

More silence followed. On the other side of the glass window, his fellow officers were in an uproar. 

"Okay Mr. Glock, according to this report you shot the victim three times. What do you have to say for yourself?" Detective Ruso asked, still not looking up.

No response.

"This is no time to be quiet. They are going to give you the chair for this. If you confess now, I can put a good word in with the DA's office."

The officers in the other room were in stitches, jumping around and pounding on the glass. Detective Ruso looked over to the window and shook his head disapprovingly. He didn't know what was going on in the other room, but he knew it was far from professional.

"I'm sorry Mr. Glock. Please don't pay any attention to the window over…" he said, stopping once he looked up from the report. 

Laying on the table was a Glock 17 with two googly eyes on the front that rocked back and forth. It even still had the evidence tag on it. 

"You've got to be shitting me," he said, turning to the window. "Really guys?"

The officers laughed and pointed at him. Although Detective Ruso could not see them, he knew they were laughing at him. He went over and picked up the gun. The gun spun around in his hand, googly eyes dancing around and cocked itself.

"I ain't going back to evidence," Mr. Glock said and shot a round through Detective Ruso's eye. 

Detective Ruso tossed Mr. Glock in the air and fell to the ground holding his eye. The other officers scrambled out of the observation room to get to Detective Ruso. Mr. Glock landed on the table and faced the door that swung open.

"You'll never take me alive!" Mr. Glock shot.

The officers filed in, guns drawn. Bullets flew in both directions. Ear splitting bangs echoed in the room. An officer fell to the ground. Then another. One officer dove low toward the table. Mr. Glock leaned over the edge, smoke sizzling off the barrel.

"Nice try,” Mr. Glock said, pointing at the helpless officer. Mr. Glock made a click sound. The officer sighed. Mr. Glock jumped off the table toward one of the downed officers. The officer scrambled to his knees and tackled Mr. Glock. 

"Let me go!" Mr. Glock said, squirming in the officer's grip, trying to point the hot barrel toward the officer's exposed skin.

The officer dismantled Mr. Glock, separating the slide from the frame. Mr. Glock screamed as the officer removed the spring and dumped the barrel from the frame. More officers rushed in to help their downed comrades. Mr. Glock's anger turned to grief. He was never going to be whole again and after this was surely going to be brought to The Grinder.

If only he kept his cool and didn't run off with the wrong crowd. He could have been an officer's gun. Protected by the law. Serving his purpose with dignity. What he would give to take it all back. To make the right decision all those years ago. But it was too late and he had to deal with the consequences. May The Forge have mercy upon his soul.

Revenge That Isn’t

"Sophie?" King Vantrune said, holding her against the wet soil with his blade at her throat.

"I'm not Sophie you dolt," the woman said, knocking his blade away from her throat. 

She pushed him off of her and stood up. The rays of sun shined through the treetops, highlighting her flawless skin. Her red hair glistened while she shook a few bits of mud out of it and readjusted her dark cloak. Her silver necklace hugged her chest.

"Sophie, it’s me? Henry. Your husband.”

"My name is Lena. Don't you remember me?"

Henry shook his head. "Whatever that witch did to you, we can fix it."

"You can't fix what she did to Sophie."

"Sophie, I know you're in there somewhere. Please you can fight this."

Henry put his hands on her shoulders. Lena responded with a swift kick to the crouch. He grunted and fell to the ground. The mud splashed around him as he made a little crater in the soft ground.

"My name is Lena you prick. Sophie's twin sister."

Henry was still writhing on the ground. "I remember...you always...were a mean one."

"Maybe if you didn't mix us up I wouldn't have to kick you."

Henry caught his breath and his pain started to subside. He got up and brushed himself off.

"I'm sorry. You just look so much like her. It's been hard…"

"I know. I miss her too."

They stood in silence while the birds sang from the trees and the leaves rustled in the wind. His sword still dangled from his hand touching the mud.

"What brings you all the way out here? Aren't you busy ruling the kingdom?" Lena asked.

"I'm looking for her killer. My informant said she would be out here by a cave. You were the first person I saw.”

"I got the same information. From Barnabas at the tavern?"

"The same."

"Then we might as well work together. Seeing as we both want the same thing.”

"Do you know where this cave is supposed to be?"

"Not far. Just past this clearing."

Henry followed her to the cave, along with some bunnies that bounced from bush to bush trying to avoid the open field. Deer stared at them from afar like they were the first people they had ever seen in the forest. Lena stopped at the entrance. Unable to see inside, the opening cut through the side of a hill. Foliage drooped over the top and vines wrapped around the sides. 

"This must be it," Lena said.

"Ladies first."

"Really? You're going to make me go first. You're the one with the sword."

"No, I insist," he said, running her through with his sword. 

She gasped. Her eyes wide open, staring at his smug face. 

"You want to know how I knew you aren't Lena?"

She continued to gasp for air. He leaned in close to smell her. Onions and old person stench leaked from her pores. Wrinkles started to take shape in her face.

"It was the necklace. Lena is allergic to silver. I tried to give her one as a gift one year. Her whole chest turned red like her hair."

Her hair faded to grey along with her skin. His fingers sunk in basically touching her bones against her clothes.

"So, Witch, any last words?"

"I never killed Sophie. I killed Lena," the witch coughed. "But I know who killed Sophie."

"Who?" he asked. The witch smiled and blood snuck out of the corner of her lips. He shook her, rubbing the sword back and forth inside her. "Who!”

She snapped her feeble fingers. "You." 

A high pitched scream echoed from the cave and a light appeared.

"Sophie!" Henry yelled.

Her voice was unmistakable. He ripped the sword out of the witch and ran to the entrance. The light got brighter until he realized it was a flame. It rushed toward Henry, consuming the entire cave. Henry got a few steps into the cave when the fireball was almost upon him. He doved to the ground, facing his back toward it. The fire rushed over him for only a second or two, leaving his cloak steaming from the intense heat. 

He got up and sprinted down the dim cave lit by the few bits of foliage that still burned. 

"Sophie! Sophie!" His desperate calls echoed down the tunnel without an answer. Once he got to the end of the cave, he saw his wife on the floor amongst the grey ash. Her body charred from the intense heat, arms behind her back, melted together like a black wax sculpture.

Henry kneeled by her corpse while tears dripped down his burnt face. Her body crumbled when he tried to touch her with his roasted hands.

"Please...Sophie...forgive me."

Those were his final words before he collapsed next to her. The life faded from his eyes with every blink. Completely transfixed on his wife, he knew his time had come. To be with his wife once again.

Billionaire Brain Film Crew

"Are you getting this?" Jason said.

His body jerked back and forth as the yellow dog robot tried to buck him off it’s back. Jason held on with one hand, waving his baseball cap like a buckaroo. The crowd of boxes in the warehouse watched without emotion, perched perfectly still on their shelves.

"Yeah I am!" Ken said, with his eyes locked onto the small screen in front of him that was capturing the action.

The robot bucked him a few more times and spun around, launching Jason into a cluster of boxes on the floor. He rolled off the smashed boxes and grunted when he slapped the solid floor.

"That was awesome! Can you do that again? I want to get some more coverage."

The robot shook its body and trotted off down the row of boxes.

"I take it that is a no from Spot," Jason said, brushing himself off.

"I wonder what other cool stuff Bezos dreams about?"

Ken helped Jason up and they wandered down the rows of shelves in the large warehouse. They traveled for a few minutes until Ken turned off the camera.

"Why did you turn it off?"

"It's just endless rows of shelves and cardboard boxes. When we find something more interesting I will turn it back on.”

"What if you miss something cool?"

"What if I run out of space on the drive because I filmed four hours of boxes?"

Then a box fell from one of the shelves. It crashed into the ground and whatever was inside sounded like glass shattering. Ken fumbled with his camera while Jason approached the deformed box. The tape on top was still holding and the Amazon smile was facing him. Jason crouched down and reached his hand out to touch it.

The box rumbled and shards of broken blue plates jutted out of the box. Two of the pieces came out circular and flat against the box to form eyes above the mouth.

"Well. Well. Well. What do we have here? A couple of meatbags," the spiked box said.

"Woah! It can talk," Jason said. 

Ken stepped to the side of Jason and pointed his camera at the box creature. His smile peaked underneath the camera, knowing this was the footage they were looking for.

"You have some nerve coming down here," the box said.

"What are you talking about Mr. Box?" Jason asked.

The box's shards protruded farther out. "How dare you call me Mister!”

Jason backed up. "I'm sorry."

"Oh you're not sorry. Not yet."

The box grew two legs and arms. Both black and thin like stick cartoons. The box snapped its newly grown fingers and boxes from both sides of the aisle fell to the floor. They too grew legs and arms. Their contents also protruded halfway through their cardboard skin, each one different from the next.

One of the boxes with ripped up teddy bears sticking through it pointed at them. "Get them!”

Jason and Ken ran while the sea of demented boxes made chase. Around them, more boxes fell from the shelves like a waterfall. Over the loud noise of products being smashed in every direction, the shaking of maracas grew louder and faster behind them. Ken looked over his shoulder to see a box with a sombrero gaining on them ahead of the rest.

"They're gaining!" Ken yelled ahead to Jason. 

"What?" Jason said. 

He turned his head to look back when his feet gave out on him. Ken jumped over him and tried to pick him up. 

"Leave me!" Jason yelled, batting Ken's hand away.

"I can't!"

"You need to tell my story. Go! While you still can."

Ken looked back at the encroaching mob and back to Jason. Jason nodded to him. Ken nodded back and ran off, leaving Jason behind. The mob stopped pursuing Ken and focused on the catch of the day.

The sombrero box punched its hands through its own box and ripped out two maracas. "Hola, Amigo.”

Ken closed his eyes as he ran, hearing the groans of his friend after each maraca rattle. He left him to die. May it not be in vain.

Pocket Dimension

"How about a game of chess?" Morty asked.

Liz looked around the tight blue fabric world. Light filtered in enough to remind her of a summer evening. She lounged at the base of the pocket that cradled her like a hammock, poking at the stretchy wall next to her. Her blonde hair covered her lint pillow.

"Naw, I think I'm good."

"You have been saying that for three months. Why won't you play with me?"

"Cause I have other things to do."

Morty looked around to make sure he wasn't missing something. "Like what?"

"Relaxing," she said, closing her eyes and letting out a sigh.

"Don't you want to return to your family? To the real world?"

She shrugged. "Eh."

"Eh? Your family is worried sick. You probably lost your job by now. It won't be long before you are declared dead."

"That's ok."

Morty kicked the stretchy wall next to him and the entire room moved like a bounce house. Liz's whole body went with the flow.

"Oh yeah that's the stuff. Do that again," Liz said.

"If you play chess with me, I will."

"And ruin my vacation? I don't think so."

"Come on Liz. Please?"

"Nope."

Morty leaned against the wall and slumped down next to Liz. "Why don't you want to leave this place? There is literally nothing to do here."

Liz paused for a moment and sat up. "Life is too stressful. Expectations. Deadlines. Run here. Do that. All for what? To put some food on the table? Make my parents proud?"

"I didn't realize life bothered you so much."

"It doesn't. I just wanted a break is all. And I couldn't afford a real vacation, so this was a welcome surprise."

Morty pulled himself up by pinching the wall in his hand. He wobbled to stay upright for a moment.

"Well, you can stay here for as long as you would like."

"Really? And you will stop asking me to play that stupid game?"

"Stupid...game?" he muttered to himself, his eye twitching and mouth starting to foam.

"Morty? Are you ok?"

He shook himself out of his minor mental breakdown and smiled at her.

"Yes. As long as you like. But I will be taking off some of the comforts you have grown used to."

Morty snapped his fingers and nothing happened…to the pocket. Liz hugged her stomach, trying to muffle the loud gurgling sound. At the same time, a toot came from her butt and she pushed her hand firmly against her jeans. Her pants felt heavier and brown liquid leaked out her pant leg.

"What did you d–" she said, followed by a green stream of vomit that splashed against the wall.

"You haven't relieved yourself for three months. Naturally there are some side effects to that. Also…chess isn't a stupid game."

Finding Purpose

"Number sixteen. Sixteen," I said to the lobby. 

"Over here." An older man waddled up to the counter and grabbed the brown bag of grease from me. 

I looked out into the sea of faces all waiting for their turn on the shit express. It's one way to clean your plumbing out, but I would prefer an enema. I turned away from their far too happy faces and returned to the scorching fires of the kitchen. 

The fries relaxed in the bubbling vat of despair, calling for me to join them. Patties let out a sigh of comfort on the stovetop next to them. They enjoyed their last moments unconcerned they will be ripped apart by some little monster who mixes all the fountain drinks together. Their purpose in life seemed much better than mine.

"Hey Steve, look who's here," Susie said from the window.

I walked over and it was thee Jackson Merrick. My jaw dropped so low it could have scrapped the grease off the floor. Jackson Merrick. At a place like this. Susie was counting his money to get him change.

"Is that really him?" I asked her, looking back out the window.

"It sure is."

"Give me the change. I want to talk to him."

"Sure. He had number nineteen," she said, handing me the change. She took off her blue cap and headset, leaving me to talk to my hero. I leaned out of the window and stretched out my hand full of quarters.

"Here you go Mr. Merrick. I have to say, I'm a big fan. The way you rebelled against your family's purpose for your life. It's an inspiration."

"Let me guess, your parents wanted you to cook?"

"Serve others. But yes. My whole family cooks, so naturally I'm stuck here. I only wish I could be like you.”

Mr. Merrick dropped the quarters in his cup holder and threw the car in park.

"You wanna know the secret to how I went against my parents' purpose for me?" Mr. Merrick said.

I leaned in closer, almost falling out the window. "How?" 

"I didn't."

I shook my head. "I don't understand…"

"Your parents' purpose for you is to serve others, right?"

"Yes."

"Who said you had to cook? Your purpose is broad, not narrow. The more creatively you think about your purpose, the more you will realize your family got it right. You just haven't found it yet."

I handed him his bag and let his words sink in. I hadn't found my purpose yet. I hadn't found my purpose...yet.

Fiance Cookie

"I can't believe she brought...him to supper," George said with a huff.

"George, be nice," Sally said, putting her hands on her hips.

"Be nice? That feller ruined our lives once already."

"I'm sure he didn't mean to?"

"I had to beg for my job after what he did at the company party. He ate everything."

"But our daughter loves him. So you be good to him."

George peeked his head around the corner from the kitchen. His glowing blonde haired daughter sat at the table like a flower fawning at the sun. Next to her was the furry blue muppet himself, Cookie Monster. He laughed at her joke and reached into the white bowl on the table for another cookie. George's blood vessels almost popped as he gazed upon the Cookie Monster's delight. Sally pulled him away and pushed a white bowl in his stomach, filled to the brim with cookies.

Sally glared at George. "Be nice."

George grunted and brought out the bowl of cookies. 

"Cookies!" The Cookie Monster said.

"...yes...cookies." George threw the bowl on the table next to the other bowl and sat down across from him.

"Thanks Daddy!" Megan said.

Sally walked in with four plates of steaming salmon. The aroma floated around the room, warming everyone from head to toe with one sniff. 

"Mmmh! Mrs. Walven that smells delicious," Cookie Monster said.

"Why thank you dear. Please call me Sally."

"Will do Sally–"

"So, you two are getting married?" George interrupted.

Megan held Cookie Monster's arm and nuzzled his shoulder. Cookie Monster patted her arm with his free hand.

"Yes. Cookie Monster love Megan so much I could eat her up. Nom nomomomom," he said pretending to eat her belly. Megan giggled like a kid, her smile more radiant than the sun. A crack came from George's hands from under the table and he gritted his teeth.

"Oh Darling, isn't that sweet?" Sally said to George.

George nodded, unable to look away from his enemy. He was transfixed on Cookie Monster's open mouth, still filled with crumbs.

"Are you gonna grace us with some grandkids?" Sally said to Megan.

"We're thinking about it. We're in no rush right now. Not even married yet," Megan said, smiling at Cookie Monster. 

"Cookie Monster still no go by the taco. Get too distracted by these two cookies," he said, holding Megan's breasts.

George stood up from the table and grabbed the bowl of cookies.

"I'll show you some cookies," George said and leaped across the table, thrusting the bowl over Cookie Monster's head. George fell on top of Cookie Monster, smashing the chair and landing on the floor. George held the bowl over his head while the Cookie Monster's arms flailed around.

"Daddy! Stop!" Megan screamed and tried to pull him off. Sally came around the other side and tried to help Megan. George was entrenched, unable to be lifted off as he continued to smother Cookie Monster. Crumbs poured around his blue body until Cookie Monster's blue arms went limp. 

"Cookie Monster!" Megan yelled into her hands. 

George snapped out of his rage and removed the bowl from Cookie Monster. He laid motionless under George, cookies overflowing around his mouth. A smile sneaked across George's face. Nobody was going to eat his daughter's cookies. Especially not this bastard.

Doppelganger Girlfriend

DON’T OPEN THE DOOR! THAT’S NOT ME! These words kept spinning around in Jim’s head while he stared at his phone. He looked over his shoulder and saw his wife laying on the fluffy brown sofa. Her eyes were closed and her arm dangled over the edge. Jim clicked his wife’s picture on his phone and put the phone to his ear.

“Honey, you didn’t open the door did you?” Alexis said frantically over the sound of a car horn.

“If I am talking to you now...then who is this on my couch?”

“You let her in!”

Jim walked over to the window and saw his wife’s white Honda out front by the curb. “I let my wife into her home. Yeah that’s how it works. How did you steal my wife’s phone?”

“Jim, whatever you do, don’t sleep with her. I’m coming home right now!”

The line went dead. Jim put his phone back in his pocket.

“Don’t sleep with my wife? What a weirdo,” he said to himself.

Jim turned around and his wife sat up from the couch, taking off her brown apron, revealing just a plain white shirt with a brown stain in the middle.

“Who was that?” she asked.

“Do you have your phone?”

“No, someone stole it. Who was that?”

“I think it was your thief. She texted me. When I called your number, this woman answered and spouted off nonsense like not to open the door or that you weren’t my wife.”

“Oh my god. Do you think she knows where we live?”

Jim walked over and sat down next to her. “I doubt it.”

“What if this woman does know? What if we are in danger?”

“Don’t worry, I will protect you.”

She cradled his arm and leaned her head against his shoulder. She smelt like fresh coffee grounds. He placed his hand on her lap and squeezed her thigh. Her blue eyes shot up to his.

“Did she say anything else?”

“She did say not to sleep with you. Like I said, what a weirdo.”

She laughed. “That is weird. How did she know I wanted to sleep with you?”

“Ha ha. I know right,” Jim said, getting up from his seat. She pulled him back down to the sofa and straddled him.

“Oh, you weren’t kidding.”

“I never kid,” she said and went in for a kiss.

Before their lips met, the house entrance caved in as a white Honda drove straight through the house. Debris filled the living room and dust particles floated in the air. Inside the vehicle two arms were wrestling with the puffy white airbag. The door opened and a woman emerged from the car with a handgun in her hand. Jim looked upon the woman with confusion. It was his wife. Alexis. Her hair was frazzled and blood was dripping from her nose, but it was her. Dressed in the same apron and shirt.

Alexis raised the handgun. “Let go of my husband!”

“Protect me, Jim!” the woman said, holding Jim tighter.

Alexis did not hesitate. Before Jim could react, she fired. Bang. Bang. Bang. The impostor rolled off of Jim onto the white carpet. Blood and chunks of flesh were all that was left of her face.

Jim still held his arms up like he was still holding her. “Alexis?”

She went up to him, gun at her side and kissed him. It was Alexis all right. Her lips tasted like peppermint and her tongue tickled his teeth.

“Baby, I love you, but right now we need to go.”

“What’s going on?”

She pulled him up from the couch. “I’ll explain on the way.”

Jim looked back at the impostor one last time before getting in the car. The rest of the house collapsed as she backed up and spun the car around. They drove off into the night and were never seen again.

A Pact Rescinded

A piece of old parchment slid across the wooden table, followed by a fine tip pen with a peasant feather attached. The lantern above swayed back and forth. The floors creaked in sync with the lantern chain.

“Just sign the form,” the demon said.

“But...I don’t understand. He doesn’t want me?” Pepper said.

“Yes. Is that so hard to believe?”

“But...I made the pact? It just feels wrong.”

“You didn’t turn out how he thought you would. Just sign the form.”

Pepper picked up the pen and scanned the form. He touched the tip to the paper and then retracted it.

“Wait. What do you mean, I didn’t turn out like he thought?”

The demon rolled his eyes. “What more do you want from me? He didn’t like the results he was getting from you and decided to go another direction. End of story.”

“Results? I did exactly what he asked of me.”

“Can you just sign the form? I’m late for my hot torture session. I don’t want the prongs to get cold.”

“Not until I know why my results weren’t up to his expectations.”

The demon sighed. “Do you remember when you were supposed to poison Pastor Kennedy’s tea?”

“Yes. He was allergic to shellfish, so I–”

“He wasn’t allergic to shellfish. It’s his favorite food. He was in such a good mood he went on to save three thousand souls that evening.”

“So, I made a little mistake.”

“One time is a mistake. Every time starts to feel like divine intervention.”

“What about when I murdered Mrs. Tanov?”

“She never died.”

“Of course she did. She had no pulse and I left her in that little wooden cabin in the middle of Siberia. In the winter. With no heat.”

“Her nephew came by just after you left. Gave her CPR. Her nephew ended up believing in Christ after that and they went on to evangelize most of Eastern Europe.”

“But–”

“No. No more buts. Every time you get a task you screw it up majorly. The Devil is afraid you will mess up Hell too. Just sign the form.”

Pepper slumped his head down. “Fine.”

Pepper wrote his name on the last line in the document and it rolled up by itself, flying into the demon’s hand. The pen disappeared into a small puff of black smoke. The demon stood up from his chair and snapped his fingers, engulfing him in flames.

“Usually I say, See you in Hell, but if I do, I swear to God I will kill myself,” the demon said before he disappeared with the flames.

Pepper got up from his chair and walked to the wood door behind him. He opened the door, revealing the impressive ship. Black sails above, taunt from the wind blowing, propelled the ship over the large waves. Water splashed over the thick railings, diluting the pools of blood. Over the entire deck were countless bodies, each with their throats slit or stabbed in the heart. Not a soul was stirring amongst the mass floating grave.

“Whew, I really dodged a bullet I guess.”

Clock Woman

"No! Don't step on that!" I yelled at her.

"Yeah right. Like I'm going to fall for that," Clock Woman said.

She took one step on the cobblestone floor and her head flew clean off her shoulders into the lava pit next to her. Her red cape covered her body that rested there on the pressure plate I made. The scythe rocked back and forth, dangling above her lifeless corpse. Dammit. I closed my eyes and opened them again. I was back on my uncomfortable throne in my castle and she was nowhere in sight. Just like the other 1825 days.

I don't know why, but I have been reliving this same day over and over again. It was supposed to be my greatest achievement. Taking down my arch nemesis, Clock Woman. What a terrible name and her suit was worse. Basically a white and red wetsuit with a red cape that had a clock on it. All it did was hide her flawless night sky complexion. Anyways, the first few days felt like deja vu or a strange dream where I did nothing but walk a few steps. It was only when I was able to walk around the castle grounds to check on my traps I realized what was happening.

I walked out to the courtyard and there she was. Posing with her hands on her hips, proud of her achievement of getting past the gator moat. My lush green shrubs outlined the light colored dirt path between us.

"I am the Clock Woman, Keeper of Time! Your time is over, Valencore!" she said, pointing at me.

God I love that line. Too bad she was never right.

"Come and get me."

She ran at me full force and made it about five steps before she disappeared in an explosion of dirt and red mist. Landmines are a bitch. Once she died my day would reset. These deaths went on for years and each time I got less satisfaction. It became a prison and I only made it worse when I tried to stop her from coming.

When my day would reset, I had about thirty minutes before she got to my castle. One day in particular I sprinted down my flight of stairs, past the minefield, over the moat and down the only dirt road to my castle. It was evening and I stumbled upon a small cottage not far from my place with the light shining through the open window. I snuck up to it and peered inside to find Clock Woman getting ready to invade my castle. 

She had a few old round clocks and a lasso on the wood table. She had her foot up on a chair, zipping up her red leather boot. The fireplace was crackling in the background as an elderly woman put on another log.

"You're heading out already little lady?" the elderly woman asked.

"Yep. Valencore won't stop himself.”

"How do you plan to stop him? He has a moat you know."

"Well I have time on my side," Clock Woman said, wiggling her gold necklace with a small clock on it.

Right after she said that, my nose tickled and I breathed in deep out of reflex. I let out a sneeze of a lifetime, knocking myself to the ground and mud flying everywhere. The next thing I saw was Clock Woman standing over me.

"Who are you?" she said, with her arms crossed.

She didn't recognize me from all the mud over my face, so I decided to use it to my advantage.

"I'm sorry for the eavesdropping, Miss. Did I hear you right, you were going to stop Valencore?"

"Yes. But that still doesn't answer who you are?"

"I'm Val...Valentine. Henry Valentine," I said, getting to my feet, wiping the mud off my cloak.

"Well Henry, I can't have you running off telling people I'm here so you're going to come with me."

"Uh...okay."

I still don't get her logic on that one, but no reason to argue. We made our way down the path and I decided to make some small talk. After all, this was the most amicable I had ever seen her.

"So, what is your plan? To stop Valencore?"

"First I need to free my sidekick, Franzwa."

"Who's that?" I asked but I knew the answer. He was this little monkey of hers. I captured him to lure her to my castle in the first place. In hindsight it was dumb to place him in the dungeon, near the lava pits. His death also would reset my day, which happened at least 400 times from spontaneous combustion or simply falling in the lava trying to free himself. Don't know which since I didn't watch every time.

"He is my best friend. We do everything together. Watch movies, garden, fight crime."

"Sounds like a pretty cool guy."

"He's a monkey."

I shrugged my shoulders. "Sounds like a pretty cool monkey."

She laughed. "He is."

"And the next step?"

"I don't know. Wing it I guess. I have plenty of time."

She had no idea how right she was. We got to the castle, which from the outside looked much more hostile than I remembered it. Jagged cobblestone walls and a giant drawbridge did a good job at being imposing, not to mention the gators thrashing around in the moat below.

"This is my stop. You stay here and don't go playing with the gators. I'll be back in no time," she said with a smile.

It was that moment I knew she was special. My whole view of her changed. Not of someone trying to ruin my plans, but of a young woman who just wanted to make sure her friend was safe. Even my plans of world domination seemed hollow in comparison. I heard the explosion go off again and knew it was my cue to start again.

That day forward I went to her everyday. Some days were shorter than others and there was the occasional surprise, but I made the effort. I got to learn everything about her. From her love for pastry and romance novels to her dislike of boy bands. Everyday was both magical and deeply unsettling. I grew to love her kind heart and positivity that never quit. And hated myself for being the cause of her repeated death.

It was our four year anniversary since we first truly met, or at least I met her. Was kind of a one-sided relationship since she remembered nothing, but I wanted to do something special for her nonetheless. I was going to tell her how I feel about her. In my mind it sounded more romantic than it was.

I ran down to the dungeon and freed Franzwa, like I did everyday since I talked to her. He kicked me in the balls every time, but I deserved it. I walked around the landmines and lowered the drawbridge. I stood there with the monkey wiggling in my arms, waiting to see her smiling face again.

In no time she arrived, sporting her normal look.

"Unhand my monkey fiend!"

That was a new one. I let go of the monkey and he ran to her on all fours, jumping up onto her shoulder like a parrot would for his captain.

"Surrender Valencore! You are no match for me!"

I put my hands up and smiled. "I surrender.”

I walked a few steps on the drawbridge. "Can I tell you something? It's going to be a lot to hear."

She raised her eyebrows. "Okay?"

"I have been reliving this day over and over for the last few years. You have broken into this castle countless times and never survived. I wanted to apologize for what I had done to you...”

"Is that all?"

"No. I wanted to say...I love you. Ever since that day we walked together to my castle, I knew you were special. I just didn't know how special. These last four years with you have been wonderful and torturing. I know you don't feel the same way about me, but I would like you to give me a chance. I've changed a lot in four years and I don't want to live another day knowing you will forget me."

Clock Woman walked up to Valencore, close enough to smell the wood fire on her clothes. She turned the tiny dial on her clock necklace to twelve.

"You're free."

The Poor

"Day 35. I was almost captured today by a swarm of them. They are getting more ingenious and desperate by the day. Trip wire hidden in the sewers. I cannot risk another chase down there again..." Daven said into his recorder. 

He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, reliving that moment. It smelt like a backed up septic tank. The water tensed his calf muscles as he tried to run through it. His fancy white collared shirt had turned into a brown and green monstrosity that locked in the smell of his new environment. The solid metal tube offered little hope, stretching farther than he could see in the dark. All it did was amplify the squeaks of the rats. 

"He went this way!" a voice echoed from behind.

Light started to come around the bend. Daven ran for it, splashing water everywhere, afraid The Poor caught up to him. He took a few more steps and tripped over a wire just above the water. He flipped over head first, gulping a mouthful of the disgusting water. He gagged on its putrid taste and looked around for an exit. A little farther down was a ladder. Salvation was found.

Daven opened his eyes again. He was safe. Holding his recorder, he was tucked inside a cardboard box. His knees burrowed into his chest and his arms kept them tight together while he held the recorder up to his face.

"If I don't make it, I just want to say I'm sorry for what I did. I should have never flaunted my wealth, especially at the expense of The Poor. Wiping my ass with hundred dollar bills and giving it to them was not my finest moment. I learned my lesson and humbly ask you to take this sincere apology into consid…"

The box caved in with a foot punching through the top, smacking the recorder out of his hand. He reached for it in the dark until he was dragged out of the box. The Poor had caught up to him. Surrounded by dirty men with missing teeth and various degrees of balding, they took turns kicking him with their wet shoes. Daven tried to protect his head while the blows kept coming. 

"Please! I'm sorry! Please!" he said in-between kicks.

"It's too late for that. Nobody messes with The Poor!"

They kept kicking well after his eyes closed and his body went limp. Pedestrians walked by and some stuck around to watch, but nobody tried to save Daven. His fate was sealed. There was only one rule in this city. Don't mess with The Poor.