Mommy Snatchers

Judy pulled a wet stone over the sword blade. It made little difference really she so rarely used the weapon. It was Mathew that insisted that all weapons be kept ready. He seemed certain that there were brigands waiting in every shadow to overtake a caravan like theirs. She really didn’t like to think about using her twin blades. They were only half length because she had never had the constitution to heave a broad sword the way the boys could.

            The stone made the sharp edge sing with each pass. She held up the sword and watched as the fire light played along its length. The set had been given to her as a gift from her father before all the parents disappeared. Her father had told her that there was a time when such things weren’t necessary. People use to be able to live however and wherever they wanted. Then things changed, now they have to move every day, they have to be on constant guard, they have to be afraid. Judy pushed the blade back into its sheath before removing its mate from a second. At least sharpening gave her something to do during her watch.

            Mathew emerged out of the darkness from his rounds and took a seat next to her at the fire’s edge. He looked so much older in the flickering light, the weight of the last four years alone in the world was starting to wear on him. His weariness was glazing over his eyes. Judy tried not to stare, but it was hard to not stare at a fifteen year old boy carrying a six foot broad sword across his back even in such times.

            “Sit back, rest a bit,” Judy told him as she went back to her sharpening.

            “If only I could,” he said as he pulled his gloved hand over his hair. He was all wrapped up in coats and blankets and leathers. It was cold enough that little clouds of vapor leaked from his mouth and nostrils. “Aren’t you cold, Judy?”

            She looked down at her bare mid-drift and scarcely clad arms and legs. She had been cold, but she put it out of her mind. If she did have to fight she didn’t want baggy sleeves and long pants getting in her way. She shook her head and gave a coy smile. Mathew always asked about her being cold, she thought that after two months he might get tired of hearing the same answer.

            It had been after the parents disappeared that she had joined up with Matt and his caravan. The oldest among them had been about seventeen at the time. They slowly swapped members, some would disappear out into the world others would wander in so no one bothered to keep close track. Judy watched his eyes search deep into the flames as though seeking out an answer. She was nineteen now. She was scared that soon she might disappear too just like the parents. No one was really sure what had happened and it worried everyone who, if any, would go next. Everyone in the caravan thought it would be her. They avoided her just for that reason. If something was going to come steal her away they didn’t want to be caught in the crossfire. They were children, they weren’t stupid.

            Mathew didn’t care, though. Judy had two good sword arms and a willingness to help, and that was more than enough for him. She also gave him that sense of parental supervision that he wanted. She was still young, but she had a depth of wisdom that made it feel like the entire weight of the world didn’t rest on his shoulders.

            She looked over at him again, “Rest, I won’t let the Mommy Snatcher get you.”

            “No time,” he said putting his hand on her shoulder, “I need your cat eyes out in the dark for rounds.”

            She bowed her head in assent as she pocketed her stone. Her blade disappeared back into its sheath as it spun up onto her back. She pulled the harness straps tight across her chest before disappearing into the liquid darkness.

Matt always felt more at ease when Judy went on watch. It wasn’t just that she was an exceptional fighter, stealthy like a cat, or that she never seemed to get weary. It was more the fact that she seemed to be able to see in the dark. He wasn’t sure if it was true or not, but if she were to come right out and say it, he wouldn’t doubt her for a minute. No one else could spot danger in the darkest most miserable nights the way she could. He leaned onto his fist and watched the fire dance against the black forest around him. The sway of the light began to swirl ever more decadently in his vision before he couldn’t fight his weariness any longer and nodded off.

Bloody Mary

            “Are you sure you want to do this?” Leon asked.

            I wiped down the mirror carefully making sure to leave no streaks. If there was one thing the bitch hated, it was streaks on the glass. Not good to go upsetting her if they were going to get any information out of her. The queens always made things difficult.

            “I don’t see as we have any real choice now do we?” was my only reply.

            I put out my hand for the lantern. Reluctantly he gave it to me as I put out the bathroom light. It wasn’t the most complicated spell ever. All I had to do was talk at a damn mirror. That didn’t mean it was easy, nor that it was safe. I set the lamp on the edge of the sink facing the mirror. The light bounced and wavered all across the walls casting ghostly shadows everywhere.

            “Should I stay?” he asked as I leaned against the porcelain surface. He was already backing away.

            “Close the door Leon.”

            He hesitated for only a moment before I heard the click of the latch. I stood alone in front of the mirror, the lamp light flickering wildly off the glass. Slowly I closed the little door on the side and cut off what little illumination managed to escape. In the complete darkness I watched where I knew the mirror to be.

            I spoke the words, “Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary.”

            At first there was nothing, but I remained still. You can’t rush the dead, they come on their own time.

            Suddenly the mirror lit up with the gruesome image of a blood soaked women in period dress. She had the whole bit going; blood pouring out of the mouth, glowing eyes, shinny knife, the whole nine yards. That is until she saw who was on the earth bound side.

            “Oh bollix. What do you want?” was the first thing she said.

            It wasn’t the sort of thing you'd expected royalty to say, but one too many summoning can sour a ghost to you. It had been a long time since I’d last talked to Mary, though, and I hadn’t requested too much the last time.

            “Mary, I need your help.”

            “Want, want, want, need, need, need that’s all I ever hear you say,” she chided with her hands on her hips.

            “Something’s been causing a lot of havoc on our side. Do you know anything about it?”

            “Unlike some people, I don’t poke my nose into everyone else’s business.”

            “Please, Mary, you know I wouldn’t ask unless it was important.”

            I don’t know if it was the pitiful look in my eye, or if maybe Mary knew how persistently annoying I could be. Whatever the reason the ghost gave a great sigh, before saying, ‘wait a minute.’

            I was left staring into a dark mirror for a while, waiting. Eventually there was the shimmer of red that of told Mary’s return along with a rumbling chuckle. Humor was never a good sign. The chuckle quickly grew into a wild and deafening laughter.

            “My dear, you have gotten yourself in way over your head this time,” the specter said as she solidified.

            “What do you mean?”

            The laughter continued to get louder and more menacing. The blood effects got more vivid as the mirror began to run with blood. I could tell I was beginning to lose control of the situation. I placed my hand on the lamp.

            “Mary, what do you know?”

            The laughter had become manic as a bloodied hand shot out of the mirror. I ducked out of the way and threw open the lamp before the grasping fist had a chance to catch hold. The flickering light showed only my reflection in the glass. Blood Mary was gone. I hate royalty.

Falling

The fallen can be well concealed in the world of men. They can sit on a soul for centuries as it passes from one life to the next. A soul of course is expected to transition several time to maximize its experience. The fallen know this and take great advantage of it. Some ride a soul so long that they forget what they are. This makes them exceptionally hard to find. It’s possible to interrogate a fallen in this state at length and know for sure their true nature. But a call has to be made, and the fallen are always displaced. Displaced of course being the clever way of saying they are killed and the body is left to rot in the sun. This means little to humans. Why should they care about other worldly affairs? They are such blind creatures. They don’t see the magnificent around them all the time, the angels that walk among them at every moment. I suppose that is what makes them really human though, the not knowing. Their imperfection is what makes them the Lord’s prize. They have the potential to change. We do not. So few humans will understand this, but the others know. They always know. I report my story as a sort of final act. They will find me, and they will be displeased with me, and as I said we cannot change. Leniency has never been an option. Clarity has always been ours when it fails us so does divinity, and so I write the story of my fall from grace.

                I have been a soldier on this plane of existence for too long now. When I arrived to this new venue it was a simple change of address, always moving. I had a job for cover, as is always the case. Inconspicuous jobs are the norm and this was no different. Office in the city, company golf tournaments, client dinners, the works, but of course this is just a cover. The real job is still the work of the lord, but it helps to have a way to pay the bills. It wasn’t an extraordinary day when I saw her, but it quickly became incredible. I wasn’t even trying to find anything special, but I looked up from my computer screen and there she was. Young, lovely, smiling at me. She handed me a stack of files over the desk with a bright toothy grin. I couldn’t think to speak I was so taken, and just as sudden and gloriously as she appeared she was gone. That was of course all it took. Over the next several days I followed her with unnerving frequency, and as strange as it seemed I think she knew it. As casual as I tried to make my approaches she always seemed to glance over her shoulder just as I drew close. She so enticed me with her smile whenever I got close, but every time I would deflect.

                I could not put a name to what drew me to her, it was not her beauty, her laughter, her shinning eyes, though all deeply moved me, but rather it was something from within that kept pulling me every closer to her no matter how I tried to resist. I sat in my office trying to work and not think of her smile and hoping to see her face when I glanced over my monitor. I suppose I imagined her being there so many times that I didn’t really notice when she actually stood before me.

                “Hi,” she said, and it took me a moment to realize that she was speaking to me. Suddenly panic struck me. What should I do? “I noticed you following me.”

                Her smile didn’t fade but rather twisted to the side. Her eyes glittered with an amused light as I fumbled with the papers on my desk. “Umm,” was the wittiest response that I could muster.

                “I’m Angelique,” she said sitting upon the desk in front of me and I couldn’t help but trace the curve of her thigh in her tight skirt, “What do they call you?”

                I found my way to her eyes and saw how warm and inviting they seemed. I searched my mind for the necessary information but my thought kept colliding with the image before me. Shapely legs pressed tight against fabric, shirt buttoned low enough to give a full view of the corsette garment beneath, and hair that let ringlets escape playfully from a tidy up do. I realized that my mouth was agape just as the name came to the surface.

                “Gabriel,” I forced out, “But my friends call me Gabe.”

                “Well, Gabe,” she smiled, “It seems that I’m in need of an escort to the office social on Thursday, would you like to go with me?”

                For just a moment I was struck mute. I remember hearing about the office party but I previously had no intention of going. I swiftly reconsidered. My head bobbed distractedly.

                Her smile evened and she pulled a pen from the collection that sat on my desk. Then she pulled a paper from a pile that stood tidily next to her. She glanced at it and turned it over where she began writing. When she finished she handed the page to me.

                “You can pick me up at seven.”

                With that she disappeared once more and I was left holding the address out to the air. Was I going on a date? Me, a fierce soldier of God?

Aswang

            Raisa’s round sunglasses reflected the light of the waning day. A soft breeze caught the stray strands of charcoal black hair that hung around her face. I couldn’t imagine her as the monster she claimed she would become. She was by no means like any other woman I knew, but she wasn’t a monster. The only monstrous thing about her was the fact that she never smiled. I could hear the sounds of the night begin their soothing song as the cicadas let loose their shrill cries in the fading light.

 As the first stars began to prick through the sheet of the sky she slipped her sunglasses off and into her jacket pocket. Then she let the blue leather jacket slid smoothly off her shoulders to the ground.  I was shocked to see the long twisted black tattoos that covered both arms.  I had no idea that she was so extensively marked. I was further shaken by how the markings seemed to writhe and change in the last rays of the setting sun. She knelt upon the ground wearing just the purple sports bra and cotton sarong.

“You’ll stay here,” she said as the crest of the sun began to touch the horizon.

“But then how will I get to see the monster?”

“You will see it, but someone must watch my lower half.”

“You really believe all this don’t you?”

She was silent. I waited expecting a response, but none came.

We sat in the stillness for a long while. I could hear the birds and beetles chittering away around us. Bats flew back and forth in front of the moon chasing moths. As the night began to settle over us I tossed the can of salt she’d given me between my hands.

She didn’t move at all and suddenly everything went completely still. The insect and bats fell silent, even the breeze died. Her hands clenched against her knees and she began to shake. A deep and terrible moan escaped her lips quickly growing into an agonized shriek. She tossed her head back and her shoulders twisted from side to side painfully. I fell to the ground as her torso began to split open just above the waist. She wasn’t lying, she wasn’t crazy, and as a thick membrane began to stretch out of her back, I realized she really was the Aswang.

I fumbled right into the side of the truck as the upper half broke free of the lower and laid grunting on the ground. I forced myself as far into the wheel well as I could manage watching as the creature lifted itself up on its hands and bat wing talons. The long black hair hung down over its face but I could still see the long fangs extending out of the jaw. I watched the head bobbed this way and that as it sniffed at the air. I couldn’t stop myself before a small squeal of fear escaped the back of my throat.

The head shot towards me and I saw the big glowing red eyes through the black spider web of hair. At the sight of the spine dragging along the ground as it ran at me I lost all control and let lose the wildest scream I have ever heard myself utter. I gripped the can of salt and as the severed upper body got close I waved the can with holding nothing. Salt sprayed everywhere and most importantly it covered the face of the monster that reared back just shy of my knees before flapping its massive wings and taking flight.

I cowered next to the truck for a while longer after the creature disappeared waving the can of salt wildly at any movement I saw out of the corner of my eye. It didn’t come back. This project was turning out to be a lot more terrifying than I thought it would. Talk to a few villagers, take some nice scenic shots, do a lot of reading that was all fine. Facing a real live man eating monster was an entirely different matter. After the jack hammer stopped smacking inside my skull I finally notice that her legs were still sitting on the ground at the top of the hill. After that I really don’t remember much since I hit my head pretty good against the mirror of the truck when I passed out.

Blood Trail

                “If you’re looking for Cathy you just have to head to the most gothic, trendy, fake ‘vampire’ bar that you can find, and there she’ll be dancing like an idiot.”

                We pushed our way through the mob of thronging moody young people searching out our goal. Of course she was forced into the densest crush of people. She swayed and moved with the entwined bodies in ways that would make nuns ready their rulers. She was so lost in the music that she seemed to have no awareness at all. I could see that Robert thought back to the old wars he spoke so fondly and the incredible warrior she had been, but now she was little more than a blithering idiot making herself comfortable with a throng of fools.

                He had his hand on her shoulder before she gave any sign of noticing him, but then her reaction was decisive and immediate. She had his arm forced behind him as she swung him to the floor. For just a moment there was some of that killer fire in her eye, then as she focused on the victim in her grasped that fire died.

                She released the hand, “Oh God… Please don’t kill me.”

                Robert rolled his shoulder back into place moving to release the tension. He stood back up still working the pain out of his arm. 

                “Cathy, Rick,” he gestured between us, “Rick, Cathy.”

                We shook hands and I realized how very strong she was as I pulled back my bruised, slightly crushed appendage.

                “Sorry,” she said, “I sometimes forget my own strength.”

                I rubbed the pain out of my hand as Robert tried to steer us away from the packed dance floor.

                “We need to talk,” he said in as much of a hush as he could manage over the blaring music.

                “What would you have to talk to me about after all this time?”

                This seemed to be my cue to jump in, “We’re investigating a murder, and Robert said that you would be helpful.”

                She seemed interested. She conceded to talk to us and lead on to a table. It was a back booth away from the masses. It was secluded, which was appreciated, which she understood. I looked back at the crowd and couldn’t help but think that there was someone watching us. I scanned the room, but could see no one paying us any particular mind, and so joined my peculiar hosts.

                I pulled out my file on the case and slid it across the table to her. At first she just looked at the manila folder as though she were trying to place it. She glanced at Robert and then back at the folder. She placed her hand on top of the file and again looked at Robert this time letting her gaze linger as she asked, “Am I going to regret seeing this?”

                “Probably,” was all he said in reply.

                I didn’t think that vampires could be squeamish, yet here I was faced with one that was. I looked to Robert but he was watching her reaction as she opened the file. I joined him in his inspection in time to notice the faint fire livening in her eyes once more. She wasn’t squeamish, it was the thought of massacre that terrified her into stillness, but only because it unleashed a hunger that should be locked away for all time. Yet here at the sight of the grizzly crime scene photos it surfaced again.

                “What are your leads so far?”

                “Not sure, wanted your opinion,” Robert answered, “I know you’ve got connections.”

                She flipped through the photos slowly methodically, and I got the sense that she was savoring the images, and that made me uncomfortable. She stopped on one picture in particular. She pulled it out and slid it across the table.

                “You’re thinking a vampire did this,” she told him.

                “I fear that might be true,” he responded, “there has already been an increased slayer presence in the area since.”

                “There are vampires that could do this, but look at all the blood,” she said as she gestured to the photo, “and the cuts aren’t even.”

                Robert turned to me, “vampires wouldn’t waste like this, the blood is too precious.”

                “What, they don’t waste any?” the idea seemed rather absurd to me, but vampires were still a stretch for my mind.

                “It like Stoker wrote, ‘the blood is the life,’ and besides vampires don’t kill anymore.”

                “So vampires don’t kill either? You guys are getting less and less scary every minute.”

                “It is no longer practical to kill our prey,” Robert told me.

                “It wastes a good blood donor, and it draws too much attention. Vampires that kill as a hobby are generally… ‘dispatched’ quickly before they can endanger our society as a whole.”

                “Why butcher the cow if it’s still giving milk?" Cathy mummbled ith a smile.

                I don’t much like being referred to as cattle, but this didn’t seem like the crowd to argue with it about. Cathy picked through more of the photos scrutinizing every detail with a deadly focus. When she had looked at everything in the file she passed it back to me. She took care not to look at me, and I realized she hadn’t looked directly at me since we met, and she had not once spoken to me, but rather directed everything she said at Robert. I wasn’t worth her attention apparently.

                “I’m not sure what it was, but I can say with certainty that it wasn’t a vampire.”

                “You haven’t heard any rumors about a rogue then?”

                “One that attacks like this would have been caught, at the very least mentioned, but nothing has come up. So I’d have to say that it can’t be a vampire.”

                “What are your theories?” I asked trying to be engaged.

                She looked right at me, and her eyes still carried the glimmer of hunger. She was unsettling at the bare minimum, terrifying everywhere else.

                “I’d have to see the body to make any reasonable guesses.”

Wifi Me

            The implant itches. I rub at my eye but that doesn’t get to where it bothers me. My handler notices as I pull my hand away.

            “What’s wrong?”

            I can’t tell her that it’s bothering me, she’ll freak out. So I lie.

            “Nothing just got something in my eye.”

            “Should I take a look at it?”

            “No, it’s fine now,” I lie again.

            She looks concerned for a moment, but then she goes back to her work. I lean back and try to focus on something else. I look to my homework, my music, anything to stop this incessant itching.

            I carefully run my fingers through my hair. I apply very light pressure to all the seams on my scalp. They aren’t very big and the hair completely covers them. You might think that nothing ever happened, and as far as the rest of the world is concerned nothing did happen. I’m an average college student and I study just as hard with far better results.

            I study just as hard as any other student I just do it at the speed of thought since I'm in possession of the most sophisticated super computer in the world and it inside my head. I don’t have to do anything more than think and I am surfing the web, crunching numbers, or doing on sight structural analysis. I’m not saying my brain is anything special, quite the contrary in fact, before my implant I was dumb as a rock. Now, though, my mind has such an incredible capacity to learn and hold information that I could be considered a super genius.

            I close the book in front of me because I already read the digital copy anyway. I lean back and hope that all my suffering is really worth it.

            Yeah making the grades is great, and the euphoria that accompanies infinite knowledge is pretty awesome too, but the damn headaches and nonstop irritation is almost more than I can stand. The device is simply a means to an end really. The brain is the processor and the implant sends the necessary information. I know all about it and it’s terribly boring, dry stuff, and boils down to it transforms digital data directly into brain waves so they can be processed immediately rather than having to be processed through any of the senses first.

            Doesn’t sound so complicated until you actually have to deal with it, then it hurts like hell. It takes time to acclimate to the system and once you do, it still hurts like hell, but at least it actually does something. I leaned back my chair and my handler shot me a warning glare. Can’t risk the equipment, it told me. I set the chair back down and stood up because it was better than just sitting. My handler turned her full attention to me for a moment until I made eyes for the rest room. It’s easy to get the babysitter to back off if you know the right moves.

            I washed my face with cold water in the sink. It didn’t help, but it was something. A sensation outside of the everyday irritation. I rubbed at my eye again, I just couldn’t reach it. I looked at my reflection in the mirror and could see all the pictures of me from the internet, a birthday party, a school dance, my high school graduation. There were some stats and articles associated with those pictures. There was the human interest story after my “aneurism” that put me in the hospital three months ago. There was my appearance on the Dean’s list since then. I even checked my email since I was thinking about it.

            That was how it worked, my implant. My knowledge was infinite because it was pulled directly from the internet as I thought about it. I had an extra sensory organ, and that was the wi-fi router stuck on my brain. I could see into my “top secret” files online too, though they took considerably more effort. I could break through firewalls with my mind because I could react faster and with greater variability then any normal computer. Security systems couldn’t modulate fast enough to keep up with a human’s fractured logic. I could turn on a dime in a digital sense. I’m cocky and I know it, and someday it will get me into trouble I’m sure, but until then I’ll continue to be cocky and reckless.

            I gave my face one final rub before heading back out to my damn babysitter. She is my government liaison, considering I’m technically government property now. Her soul job was to make sure that nothing happen to the nation’s massive monetary investment. I sat back down next to her as she worked on her homework like puny mortals must. She looked content to focus on her work though I knew it was no harder for her then it had been for me, and that’s saying something. I pulled some sunglasses out of the pocket of my coat and slid low into my chair. Maybe if I rest my eyes my head will feel less like it’s in a vice.

Truth

She slithered into the great room on a cloud of loathing. She watched him speak, ‘protect the people’ he said again and again.

                “What about my people?” she shouted across the space, and he faltered. He met her burning gaze as she continued her route.

                “Lady Atlanta? Do you have words with this council?”

                “No, I have words with you,” she replied as she thrust her sword towards him. “What of my people, oh great and merciful king?”

                He seemed surprised and it maddened her futher that he hadn't seen this coming knowing what he had done to her. She continued her march until she was within striking distance of the King. She thrust her blade but he parried it with his own.

                “It was you,” she said as she struck again pushing him back, “You did it all.”

                “Did what brave knight,” he said hoping to quell her anger.

                “It was you that attacked my home…” the clash of swords rang again, “You that killed my father…” again, “You that burnt my hovel to the ground…” again, “You that stole my mother from me…” again, “that killed our livestock, burned our crops, and left me to die…” again, again, again, she pushed him back. “You took everything from me.”

                She struck out so viciously against him that he lost his sword, but still she pushed him back until he was against the wall. It was not fear that filled his eyes. It was a darkness that she had never before seen in him.

                “Yes, I have done all this to you,” he replied in naught but a whisper, “But I did not kill you there on the hill where you stood, even knowing that this day would come. Instead I let you live and gave you a place in my house.”

                “You used me as a tool of death, and when that was not enough you asked me to be a whore for on behalf of your court. You have done nothing for me except dirty me, and further dishonor my parents as they rest in their graves.”

                He seemed to smile, he was goading her. “Then kill me since I have done you so wrong.”

                She put the sword to his neck, “I had you at the end of my blade once before, my king, and let you go, I shalln’t make the same mistake again.”

Fairly Godmother

                This isn’t a story about true love, nor is it a story about overcoming staggering odds, or escaping from a destitute life and becoming something greater. No, this is a story about a dress, a dress that could change the course of history forever. No this dress didn’t have magical powers. There is no enchantment in this story. The dress was not the mystical creation of a fairy godmother. It was simply a beautiful dress worn by a beautiful girl at the right time and place.

                It was this beautiful dress that made a prince fall in love with a commoner. This dress and all that it represented. This dress and what it stood for. It was a dress that could make grown women weep, make men swoon, and make house maids into princesses.

                You might be asking yourself how I could possibly know any of this, and it’s because I was there, I saw it all with my own eyes. But I would never have doubted it was possible. I hadn’t expected anything less really. You see, I made that dress. I found the perfect girl to wear it. I got that girl to the ball. There is no fairy godmother in this story, only me.

The Little Mermaid, an excerpt

If I stay absolutely still in just the right spot I can see everything and still breathe. There’s a spot right over the vent where the water flows fast enough to saturate my gills. I can just sit and catch my breath for a while. It gives the sea turtles and sharks a chance to get some face time. The tank really isn’t big enough for all of us, but the boss won’t hear anything like that. So I get to bump elbows with two black tips, a bull, a tiger and a mako. Not to mention the moray eels, pike, and a grouper with a bad attitude. I’m a scared little fish in a tank full of bad characters.

            Enough time sitting ideal, the boss doesn’t like his star going unseen for too long. It takes very little to get going a little flip of the tail and suddenly I’m out and in full view. It’s part of the magic. The little mermaid appears from the deep to awe and inspire the little kiddies. The childerns' faces press up to the glass whenever I swim by. In the sea tube their faces are all bubbled up and weird. I love watching their eyes light up when I tap on the glass. It’s something that money just can’t buy, though the boss charges an arm and a leg for the privilege. Lying on top of the viewing bubble also drives them crazy. Grabbing hold of Oscar the sea turtle and riding him around the tank is enough to set kids squealing with glee. But nothing beats looking right into the face of a little girl with her nose pressed to the glass. Anymore I think it’s just as thrilling for me as it is for them.

Marine-land has been boasting a real mermaid for about two years now and it still draws in the crowds in droves. They of course don’t realize that their watching a real real mermaid. Everyone up and down the coast has a “real” mermaid act. Of course their boss doesn’t make them swim in the shark tank. That’s what makes my act so extreme. That and being a real mermaid seems to help. If I couldn’t breathe underwater I doubt that the management would let me near a shark tank, but seeing as I can the insurance risk doesn’t seem so steep. Of course the sharks tend not to snap at things as big as they are. The bull shark, Marco, is really quite nice once you get to know him. He even lets me ride around on his fin. The moray eels try and take a piece out of me all the time though. And of course Larry the grouper fish has had pretty good hold of my arm before. Over all the fish in the tank aren’t that bad. It’s the people that really terrorize me.

I wouldn’t even be here if Anthony, the boss, hadn’t found me floundered on the beach. It was a dark night, no moon and wild surf. It was the first time I’d ever tried to swim in the ocean and low and behold what I found, I grew fish parts when I went into the sea. I was swimming with friends but when I started to change the tide pulled me out and I couldn’t seem to find my way back. I fought with the surf crashing and swirling me around and around like I was trapped in the washing machine from hell. When I finally hit the beach I was so exhausted that I passed out. I opened my eyes again to glass. Anthony found me on the beach and carried me back to his layer, the Marine-land fish hospital. Needless to say I was confused. I got to see my own tail for the first time under electric lights, and I feel like that might have taken something away from the whole experience.

After recovering from my shock and confusion I finally got to confront my rescuer. He gave me an ultimatum, either I could work at the park or he would hand me over to the government. I really didn’t have much of an out. He showed me the front page of the paper that morning. I made the headline. “SPRING BREAKER LOST TO SEA.” They weren’t looking for me, they were looking for my body. It wasn’t like I could do anything looking like the fish wonder. So I could be his cash cow, or I could be a government freak show. My prospects didn’t look good. So I work at Marine-land as the live in mermaid.

Playthings

It started innocently enough. As a child Roger had snuck through the forest of thorns up the hillside to the enchanted castle. Only the most ancient could even remember a time when the castle was not covered in the dangerous rose briar. The legend went that all the king’s court had been trapped in the castle and placed under a nefarious spell. But Roger did not believe in such twiddle even as a child, until he saw it for himself. Everyone in the castle lay sleeping. Over the top of all of them was a century’s worth of dust.

            He had run home, but before telling anyone he had an epiphany. No one else could reach the castle except him. It would be the most magnificent playhouse that ever was, and it would be all his. If he told someone about it, they would surely take it for themselves, and then he would never get to go back. But if he kept it his own little secret then he could go back and forth whenever he wanted.

And for the next twenty years he did just that. When he was a child he would sit atop the king’s lap and rule over the sleeping courtiers. When he grew a little older he would take refuge there after a hard day’s labors in the fields and have long conversations with the slumbering kitchen staff. It wasn’t until he was a young man that a truly despicable idea came to him. It emerged after he had dethroned the king. Roger looked over at the queen and saw how lovely her face was in the moonlight. Overcome by her beauty Roger leaned over and kissed her. She did not wake. Roger stood before the slumbering queen and realized he could do whatever he wished with her and she would not wake. He could do whatever he wanted with anyone in the castle. He reached out his hand and placed it upon the queen’s breast. Still she slumbered. He gently worked his hand up her skirts. Still she did not wake. He untied his belt and pulled her hips close to his own. The queen slept on as though nothing was happening. While making love to her limp body was not as satisfying as a waking woman it was enjoyable enough for Roger.

When he finished he replaced her upon her throne. He stood in awe of what he had just done. He had had his way with the queen. If the king were to awake and find this he would surely have Roger’s head. Yet, the king slumbered on as much as the queen. In fact everyone still remained perfectly asleep.

Roger wandered about the castle looking at all the sleeping bodies in a new light. There were girls of ever shape and size all over the castle. He could make love to a new woman ever night and perhaps never have his way with all that resided there.  

Roger would come back every night after his labors were done. He would start by taking the crown off the king’s head and making violent love to his queen. Then, if the mood struck him, he would turn the king over and have his way with him as well. Then he would wander the great hall and pick a courtier to molest. After that he would wander the castle doing horrendous things to whatever poor scullery maid he came across that night. At the end of the night he would carefully place all he had touched back to its proper place and return back to the village as though he had never been there at all, only to return and do the same the next night.

This continued until he was married and had a wife of his own. Roger liked having a woman that would respond to his touch. He enjoyed not having to lift and pull to get her body in the right position. She was soft and warm and sweet and he liked her very much. He still occasionally went up to the castle and had his way with the queen or the courtiers, but he saved most of his love making for his wife. That is, until he found her.

Tiring of the same old playthings Roger ventured to the highest room of the tallest tower searching out a new face. There he found a most magnificent beauty lying in bed. Her hair was gold like the sun, her lips as red a rose buds, and her skin as smooth as porcelain. She was the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. He touched her milky white skin and knew that no other woman would ever be enough. He quickly undressed her and laid his hands on her smooth supple breasts. He pulled up her long soft legs and drove into her young beautiful flesh. Even though she could not move he would not trade her for any woman in the world. He came back every night to make love to his most perfect rose. He did not return to the king and queen in the great hall having found the real prize.

He would have kept coming back forever had it not been for the prince. While making his way towards the castle he found the thorns had gone. He saw a rider pass through the now open gates. Roger panicked at the thought of what would become of his dearest golden idol. He ran up to the highest room to find the prince and his dear rose locked in a most deep and passionate kiss. She was awakened. The spell was over and the castle was his playground no more.

On the Princess’s wedding day Roger stood with the peasants and watched as all his precious playthings took on lives of their own, and when the princess passed him she did not see him. He was just another face in the crowd.

Rings, part one

To have a ring is life
To remove the ring is death

Every birth a ring is given
Every death a ring is taken away

Without a ring there is nothing
With a ring there is everything

One must not remove another's ring
or
Risk their ring being removed

To have a ring is life
To remove a ring is death

Chapter one

Raeca sat looking out over the fields she was not currently exploring. She hated class days. She just wanted to be out there. As it was of course she had to sit and listened to the tutor lecture and talk, and talk and lecture. How could he just go on like that? She didn't even really know what he was going on about today.

“So, should the government make the decision to remove his ring?” he said. Raeca pulled her attention away from the perfection of the field to try and participate.
Several pupils raised their hands in excited gestures of knowing. The tutor worked his pointed finger past the eager faces, until he inevitably came to Raeca as she knew he would.
“Raeca, what do you think?” he mocked.

She had finally one upped the man... for once. She sat up a little straighter.

“I think the government has the right to do as it pleases,” she replied proudly.

Tutor did not seem thrilled with that response.

“Apparently Ms. Raeca wants the government to control her life,” he told the pupils. There was laughter all around. Raeca felt her face burn bright red. She did not like being made an example of in front of the class. She felt the ring hanging from her chest. She twisted the ring around her finger.

Tutor turned back towards her, and was struck by visible anger. Raeca unfortunately did not notice.
“Ms. Raeca!” he nearly shouted as her hand slammed to her lap, “If I've told you once, I've told you a thousand times, don't touch your ring!”

She became a vacant canvas just that fast. One looking upon her at that moment might assume that she was blind, deaf, and dumb, and had been so all her life. She knew she wasn't supposed to touch and fiddle with her ring but she couldn't help it.

“Just for that...” tutor said and stood Raeca upon her feet, “Everyone, what is the law.”

There was an audible groan that rose through the pupils. Tutor barked and silence fell over the children. There was an obvious change in the pupils as they readied themselves to recite the laws. Everyone sat a little taller, everyone’s eyes glazed over as the reflexive recitation began.

“To have a ring is life
To remove a ring is death”

Raeca listened diligently to the verbal rebuke, but she had had it orated at her many times.

“Why?” she said almost reflexively, before she could think to stop herself.

Tutor was suddenly taken aback. He looked at Raeca as though she had sprouted a third eye. The children grew very quiet as the frightening little vein on the tutor's forehead began to bulge and pulse.

“What was that Ms. Raeca?” he annunciated carefully between clenched teeth. Raeca had the sudden urge to run very fast to the field with hope that tutor wasn't fast enough to catch her.

She gulped in a mouth full of air and searched her mind desperately for the question that had clattered out of her thoughts, “Why should removing the ring... be, um... death?”

There was a slight murmur rose from the students. Tutor could feel his power slipping. He needed desperate action immediately.

“It is, for the Law demands it!” he loudly declared, extinguishing all discussion on the matter.
The pupils sat watching the ground between their shoes very intently. Raeca looked at the satisfaction on the tutor's face at quelling the threat of hysteria, but he hadn't answered her question.

“Why?”

He looked down at Raeca as his left eye began to twitch. She tried to fight the need to run very fast because she really wanted to know. She started to worry as she thought she saw smoke coming out of the orifices of her tutor's face. She sat patiently awaiting her fate, hoping that tutor would be more lenient than last time when he boxed her ears. She looked up into his face with eyes filled with fear and wonder, and his rage began to melt.

                “Some things simply are Ms. Raeca, and must be observed with utmost diligence,” he said in a strained, tired voice, “Go home now. Class is dismissed.”

                All the pupils bolted from the learning grove before tutor had the chance to rethink this statement. Raeca watched tutor as he made his way towards his shack. Tutor never so willingly let her go when he had her in his grasp. She wanted to follow and ask more questions while he wasn’t in a striking mood, but she thought better of it. She went off into the field that had been calling to her all through the lesson. The grass was tall enough to brush against her waist, and she waded through it joyfully. She found a spot by the water of a little slow moving stream and sat in the glorious sunshine. The field seems to go on forever in every direction from here. She looked into the water only to see her own reflection looking back at her. She could see the ring sitting prominently in on the right side of her chest. The little iron ring with two copper gilded plates to show her regional origin and status. The copper showed her as a northerner, the first plate displayed the name of the town in which she was born, the second showed her status as an un-promised girl of marrying age. She ran her finger over the second plate and is spun freely of the first two. When she wed it would be replaced with a woman’s plate. She looked at her face in the water’s reflection. She pulled her fingers through her mess of mousey brown hair, over her tanned dirty skin, around her simple brown eyes.

                “Who would want to marry me?” she asked of her own reflection.

                She was startled when a voice replied, “Any man with eyes.”

                She spun around so fast she ended up knee high in the stream. Standing there on the bank before her was a young man. She looked around to see if there were others, but he was alone. They were alone she realized and she became very self conscious. She wasn’t allowed to be around men alone, it simply wasn’t done. She tried to make herself small, almost invisible, but it was too late the damage was done.

                She quickly eyes the man, he was very strange looking. He was tall and proud and strong. She looked hard at him, as though she thought that if she looked hard enough she would realize he wasn’t real. As she stared she realized that his rings were hidden beneath his coats. This made him even odder, because no one covered their rings. Not only was it not done, it was illegal in most of the country. This made the idea that he was a criminal from some obscure land come to mind, and the thought frightened her.

                “Your feet are getting wet,” he pointed out with amusement.

                Raeca looked down at her feet and remembered that she was still standing in the water. She stared at her water logged boots and felt completely defeated. They were her only pair of shoes, and now they would take hours to dry, and there was so much still to get done. She thought she might cry as she made her way back to the shore.

                The stranger offered his hand and she was so morose she did not hesitate to take it. They sloshed their way to a standing rock and sat down. She slid off her boots and tipped them so the water could run out.

                “Oh, dear,” was all she could manage.

Protist

The house smelled of rotten eggs and burn toasties. I really feared for my life at this point. Really I hadn't meant for it to get this far. There appeared to be glob creatures in every corner. They were hanging from the ceiling and leaking their musk. They were gliding slowly across the floor leaking more musk. They were in every room, on every floor in the entire house.
My parents are so going to kill me, I thought to myself.

It had started as a simple experiment. I was only trying to prove the possibility of creating macrobiotic organisms with harmless aerobic bacterium. Yeah I suppose I might have been over reaching my means a little. Now I had foot long single celled organisms everywhere in the house leaving rancid bodily fluids all over the carpet. My parents are so going to kill me.

I started gathering all the jars and empty boxes could find. I piled them up in the middle of the kitchen. I started plopping the little buggers into the jars with a pair of tongs. They were rather disgusting little creatures. They were essentially little balls of mucus with phalanges. There were a great many massive little germs running loose around the house. I was trying very hard not to harm any of them because they were my first big break through since I had started. They were the largest bacteria I had as of yet created. They were the culmination of months of testing and research. They were starting to eat my dog's food.

 I hadn't told my parents what I was doing. I didn't think they would approve. So I suppose I was lucky in the sense that my parents were out for the day and would not see this horrifying mess.
I wasn't exactly sure what I would do now that I had collected all the creatures as far as I could figure. They reproduced exceedingly fast so their population had to be constantly monitored especially at their size. I had slept in, thus the population had grown out of their enclosures and had escaped.

 I started my clean up by studying the specimens, then eliminated the excess population. I put the rest of the creatures back into the tanks and went back up stairs. The house was covered in musk slime and smelled awful. I had a lot of work ahead of me before my parents got home. At least none of the creatures got out of the house… I hope.

New

The girl opened her eyes and blinked back the bright light of the sun. All around her stood the imposing forest. She stared out around her unknowing. No longer did everything have a name. No longer was the world explained. All was new, as seen for the first time by an infant. She did not know how to sit up, or how to speak, or think. She had lost all but the quickly gathering experiences she now accumulated. She slowly rolled over, regaining knowledge of her limbs. She found that certain motions brought pain, some motions brought momentum. Quickly she found how to stand. First she was shaky, as a child is when learning for the first time to walk, but her muscles had known standing before. The memory came to her legs again with a vengeance. Finding the sensation quite agreeable the girl ran and jumped and leapt about the forest floor. She touched everything and found some things to be soft and others to be hard, some were harsh while others were agreeable, some were simply wonderful and other just dreadful. She explored every inch of her strange surroundings, straying further and further form the place she woke with ever lap.

Soon the girl found her clothes to be constricting her movement. She found them an unnecessary hassle. She striped away her shoes and pants and sweat shirt until nothing covered her except her underclothes. Again she hopped through the woods happy and free. She did not know what happiness was if not the feeling that currently consumed her.

She was content simply being in the wood, until a nagging pain struck her tummy. She patted her stomach unaware that what she felt was hunger. She tried to disregard the sensation until she became dizzy and sat hard upon the ground. She was so confused. Why did she feel this way? She was not happy. She for the first time noticed the little birds before her. They jumped gaily through a bush filled with small blue berries. The girl was entirely enraptured by the little birds. Slowly she crept closer and closer towards the bushes. She could see the little birds eating the little blue berries. The girl watched them pluck the small blue spheres into their becks. She was fascinated. She reached out to the bush and all the little birds scattered away into the trees. She watched them fly amazed. She stood and hopped about beneath them until her hunger fell her again. The girl looked back at the little blue berries. She plucked the berries into hand. She crushed them between her fingers leaving purple stains across her hands. She smelled the tangy sweet mash that covered her fingers. Carefully she tasted it. It was good. Happily she placed as much of her fist into her hand that she could manage. She sucked off the sticky sweet substance and plucked up as many of the little berries that she could find, and ate them greedily. She ate her fill without reservation.

Again contented she continued her exploration. She crawled slowly through th brush looking over the ground for more that could be hastily ingested. The world was so miraculous. It provided for her food, and was covered in an increasing number of birds and other equally wondrous creatures. She danced along looking happily at the strange plants and watching the little animals. Soon she came to the river. It was not a deep river, just about waist high, but the girl was enamored. She was captivated watching the little twigs and leaves travel swiftly across the water. She followed the assorted debris for a ways down the bank. Then she saw tiny fish in the water. She could not control her excitement. She leapt into the water after the strange suspended creatures. She immediately regretted the action. She jumped out of the stream cold, sopping wet, and frightened. She was not entirely sure what had just happened. The water was not solid like earth. That confused her terribly. She sat looking at the water in confused annoyance. She splashed her hand through the water. It was cold, but not together unpleasant. She put her feet in the water and walked about kicking up long sprays of liquid. She actually quite enjoyed the experience. She rolled around in the water. She played to her heart’s content. She gulped large breaths of water finding that it was not a good thing to do. She ran to the bank coughing up water, again she was upset. After she recovered she plopped down on the bank again and pouted.

She sat still long enough that the wild life lost their fear and came closer. Across the stream a raccoon drank water out of cupped paws. At first the girl was concerned that the animal might choke as she did, but the raccoon was fine. Carefully the girl many her way to the water’s edge and tried to imitate the furry creature. After several failed attempts she brought enough water in her cupped hand to put to her lips. She drank slowly at first confused by the purpose, but soon it became apparent how great her thirst had been. She drank from the waters of the stream until she could drink no more.

Apprentice, an excerpt

Cali sat at the table outside the coffee shop. Max sat across from her looking anxious. She sipped calmly at an espresso as she watched the traffic from the street speed by in either direction. She didn’t have to be anxious, she wasn’t the one being insulted and neglected. Max was a good wizard. He had exceptional control and poise. He had the experience necessary to do his job effectively, if only his ward would let him.

                “Madame, please!” he almost shouted.

                She turned an innocent eye on him, “I really don’t see what you want me to do, Maximus.” She set down her little cup of liquid acid. He was really taking the whole thing too personally. The family was simply concerned for the safety of their child.

                “Madame they defy me at every turn, they refuse to let me do my work. Whenever I try to train the child they interfere, there is nothing I can do with their constant interruption.”

                He was really being quite childish. The young girl whom was in his care was really just as frightened as her over protective family was, it wasn’t necessarily that he was doing poorly it was just that they were unfamiliar with his ways. “I still don’t see how that has anything to do with me.”

                He shifted under his nervous anguish, “Madame I wish for you to suppress the family.”

                Suppress? He wished for her to do the unthinkable. There was no situation so extreme as to need her to take away powers.

                “You ask too much Maximus, I will not do this thing you ask.” There was simply no reason. Max tried to cut in but she stifled him with the weight of her gaze. “Perhaps you should look more closely at yourself Maximus. What in your past might make a family terrified for their venerable child? What happened to your last ward, hmm Max?” That was hardly fair, it hadn’t necessarily been his fault. But he had already been shamed into silence. He dropped his head in defeat. “Perhaps you should try and see the situation from their point of view, before you wish to suppress them.”

                Cali took up her tiny cup and sipped down the last of her espresso. She set down the cup and was gone. Max watched the seat hoping she might return, but he was alone on the busy street.

                Max stood up and made his way down the empty sidewalk. The sky was turning dark and threatening. All who did not know better hid away from what seemed to be an impending storm. Max knew well that there would be no rain, he could see it in the clouds.

Chubby's

Kathy took a drag on from her cigarette. It had been a long day. She pressed down as hard as she could stand on the new hole in her liver as a steady stream of blood came oozing between her fingers. She couldn’t feel them anymore but she could see her feet splayed out in front of her crossing the hall floor. Her back was too the wall in more than one way. Things had been awful all day. First she hadn’t gotten breakfast at Chubby’s, then there had been traffic on the M-35, and to top it all off Anton hadn’t called her back. Then of course she had started smoking again which was just great. She looked down the hall where Mark had run and wondered if he would be back soon.

            There was a banging on the door at the other end of the hall. The door began to flex under the force upon it. Her fag hand dropped to the .45 sitting next to her. She might be able to lift the gun high enough to get off a few rounds if they came through. She closed her left eye to see if she could even aim.

            It wasn’t fair. She loved Tuesday morning breakfast at Chubby’s. If Mark hadn’t called she would have been there with Anton that morning.  As it was she had had to make a lame excuse. He didn’t pick up his phone but she was sure he was mad at her. Otherwise he would have called her back by now. Things would have been simpler if she had just told Mark no. She had the feeling that no could be her new best friend.

            If she didn’t spend so much time taking Mark around to these heists then she might have time to have real friends. Then there would be no more high speed chases on the highway or fiery car crashes. Then there would be time to have breakfast at Chubby’s every day. She could see Anton all the time and she wouldn’t have to make pitiful excuses.

            Kathy took another drag. It was starting to get hard to lift her hand so she just hung the cigarette on the corner of her mouth. Most jobs didn’t go this bad. Usually she when she got shot she could still go with Mark all the way to the end. This time though the bullet hit a little too close to her spine which just stole the legs out from under her. She let her head sag back. It must have been one hell of a safe if it was taking this long.

            The banging was nearly inaudible over the shouting from the other side of the door. The .45 only had an eight round clip, and she was starting to seriously doubt that was enough to be of any use. Anton had helped her buy the gun. He was worried about her safety since she lived all alone. They had gone to all the fire arms safety classes together. They were the best of friends, or they were before today. Now he probably hated her. She always had to blow him off for Mark. This was going to be it, the last time. Even as long as she had known Mark it was clearly time to end things between them. She couldn’t just drop everything on a whim to run off and steal from the wealthy with him anymore. She had a real life now.

            When Mark came back to get her she would tell him that she couldn’t do it anymore. Then when they got home she would beg Anton to forgive her. No matter how long it took she would make things right. She looked down the hall as far as her failing eye sight would permit. Maybe he wasn’t as angry as she thought. Maybe a simple sorry would work, though she wasn’t above bribery.

            A shot ricocheted off the floor at her feet. Apparently they had made it through the door. She pulled the .45 over her leg but it was too heavy to lift. She angled it the best she could against her leg and fired. A torrent of lead hit all around her. This rich loser could probably afford to get some better marksman.

            “Looks like it’s time to go,” Mark said as the barrage ceased momentarily. Kathy lolled her head up to look at him. He was all draped in black even wearing a mask over his face. She never got to wear a mask. It didn’t seem fair.

            He pulled Kathy over his shoulders and began to run down the hall away from the onslaught. Her head bumped up and down and she could just make out a flood of guards coming through what was left of the door. She gradually came in and out of consciousness for a few hours after that. First they were in the car, then there was something with bright lights and dark shifting shapes, by the time she could actually keep her eyes open Mark was standing over her flicking an IV line with his thumb and middle finger. He smiled down at her.

            “Morning,” he said.

            “Last time.”

            He sat down next to her, “What?”

            “That’s the last time.”

            He nodded, “I figured you’d say that. I promise it’s the last time.”

            “Cross your heart?”

            He giggled in a way completely unbecoming one of the most notorious thieves in the world as he pulled his index finger in an x over his heart, “I swear.”

            There was a buzzing on the table next to her and Mark lifted a cell phone in front of her. There was a picture of Anton on the little screen. She flipped it open.

            “Hello? Anton? I’m sorry I missed breakfast.” She looked over at Mark and he rolled his eyes as he walked away. “Don’t worry, it won’t ever happen again.”