Kobra and Lux embraced each other lovingly as they watched
the scene unfold from their abandoned building hideout. Black protesters, with
rage on their faces and profanity on their cardboard signs, surrounded the
courthouse waiting for the perfect moment to unleash their fury. White hooded
Klansmen stood on the opposite side with nooses and effigies to show their
disgust. In between the two extreme parties were police in riot gear, armed
with batons, tear gas grenades, and facial expression fiercer than an entire
hunting party of starving wolves.
Lux, dressed beautifully in a fairy-like white dress, black
knee high boots, and a glittery mask over her stunning blue eyes, gazed into
her lover with and said with the softest voice, “What will happen if this plan
doesn’t work?”
Kobra, with a snake’s mask covering his face and black robes
with skeletal armor covering his toned body, stroked his girlfriend’s long
black hair with soothing comfort and said, “Let me put it this way, my love: we
don’t have a choice. Any minute now, the verdict for Keith Turner will be
revealed. No matter what it may be, this city will descend into chaos in a
heartbeat. I never really did like politics, but I hate senseless violence even
more.” He touched a gentle finger underneath Lux’s chin and said, “Everything
will be alright. The devices are rigged, everything is in place, and we’ve
rehearsed this act until the end of time. They’d be foolish not to be
frightened by Death himself.”
“I love you, Kobra.”
“I love you too, Lux.”
The two magicians shared a passionate tongue kiss only to be
distracted by the noise going on outside. They peered out their window and saw
Keith Turner and his lawyers dancing happily down the courthouse stairs. No
shackles. No cuffs. Not a damn sign that he had been found guilty. The long
brown-haired defendant even had a sadistic smile on his face. Kobra shuddered
to think that was the look he gave the eight-year-old black girl before he
murdered her in cold blood. And now the illusionist’s blood came a rolling boil
now that this racist son of a bitch would walk free.
Just like Kobra predicted, the scene outside the courthouse
descended into madness upon hearing the news that Keith Turner was free. Black
protesters shouted and scrambled toward the heavily-guarded murderer while
slinging their signs like steel chairs in a wrestling match. The KKK members
swarmed the protesters and threw haymakers and shin kicks, not to mention a few
choice N-words and other delightful racial slurs. The riot police struggled to maintain
order and instead resorted to swinging their batons at anything that moved, be
it protester or Klansman. Blood filled the streets of Paulson City
“It’s show time, Lux. Levitate me!” demanded Kobra. The
magician had thin wires running through his robes that were undetectable by
sunlight, yet powerful enough to hold his 180 lb. frame. Once Lux pounded a few
buttons on a nearby control panel, those wires gave the illusion of floatation
as Kobra “levitated” out of the window and high above the riot in progress.
Only a few rioters and police officers stopped to watch the
floating death angel with wide-eyed awe and wonder. Kobra gained everyone’s
full attention when he pulled a tab inside his robes and unleashed a pair of
metallic angel wings. He winked at Lux inside the hideout and prompted her to
activate the flamethrowers rigged on both sides of the street. This burning
gesture was on cue with Kobra raising his arms in the air and extending his
fingers like a sorcerer casting spells.
What once was a riot full of angry people and weary cops now
turned into a theater with a dumbstruck audience. No more bloodshed, no more
racism, just shaky bodies and faces of fear. Kobra loosened a few bladders and
bowels once he swung his arms to the side and summoned a hurricane force wind
around his body. He threw down his hand and tossed a rigged lightning bolt onto
a gimmick fire hydrant, which exploded into a secondary Old
Faithful .
One of the cops pulled out a shotgun and tried to squeeze
off a few shells in Kobra’s direction. The combination of wind, lightning, and
fire blew the ammunition every which way and almost blew out one of the
covered-up flamethrowers. Instead of wiping off his sweaty brow in relief,
Kobra went right into his distortion box-voiced tirade against the masses.
“Fools! Each and every one of you! You’re nothing but
goddamn fools!” shouted the masked illusionist. “You’re gathered here today to
spread mayhem and murder, the same mayhem and murder that the idiot in the gray
suit was so happy to commit not too long ago!”
Even as Keith Turner stared daggers at him with a
brown-toothed smile, Kobra wouldn’t shake and stutter so easily. The magician
pointed an elongated, bony finger at the killer and shouted, “If you think
you’re going to get away with your sins so easily, you’re sadly mistaken! I am
Death himself! I am nightmare fuel! I speak the words of every victim you have
claimed! That girl you killed had a name! That name is…”
“Shut up! Shut the fuck up!” Keith interrupted with a
booming voice. “Does anybody else here think this Angel of Death garbage is a
bunch of bullshit?! Am I the only one who sees this cocksucker for who he is?!
You don’t scare me, snake boy! None of y’all niggers scare me either! White
power!”
With Mr. Turner performing a Nazi salute, the KKK members
did the same before clashing with black protesters and riot police once again.
Their nationalist rage transformed back into pants-wetting, voice-stealing fear
once Kobra shot a lightning bolt a jimmied mailbox and ignited the flamethrower
underneath. “Silence, you fools!” shouted the Angel of Death.
“If you think those streets are bloody now, keep testing my
patience!” bellowed Kobra. “I shall turn this city into hell itself! I shall
turn this world into a necrocosm! I shall avenge every restless soul…”
“Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah! Yeah, we get it! Armageddon
and shit!” yelled Keith with his arms folded and arrogant anger etched on his face.
“Tell you what, shit head! Why don’t you float on down here and I’ll rearrange
that pretty little snake face of yours! No more magic tricks and hocus pocus
bullshit! Just you and me slugging it out, baby!”
Kobra sweated profusely inside his costume trying to think
of ways to keep his bluff alive. He had an idea, but it was risky. But with no
risks came no rewards. Either this would pay off or it would get him killed.
“Tell you what, Mr. Turner,” said Kobra in his usual demonic aura. “Why don’t
you come over here instead! You think this is a gimmick?! You think this is a
fairytale?! I don’t deal in fairytales, you sodomite! I deal in death! Bring
your bastard ass over here and prove to me you’re more than just a coward who
targets children!”
Keith took off his suit jacket and angrily threw it to the
floor before cracking his knuckles and putting his dukes up. He breathed
heavily like a beast ready to jump on its prey. But then he chuckled
egotistically and said, “Who am I kidding? I’m a free man. I’ve got nothing to
prove to you. You’re the one breaking the law, not me. Hey, officers! Do your
job and put this pinheaded asshole on trial! Maybe these jiggaboos out here can
get a hashtag going on Twitter that says Snake Lives Matter or some shit.”
“Suck my dick!” shouted a random protester who threw a
cardboard sign at Keith. With kicks, punches, elbows, and knees being thrown
every which way, the rioting crowd and the armored police were back to square
one with the bloody violence.
Kobra had one last trick up his sleeve and he had to make it
count. He turned to his lovely partner Lux and gave her thumbs up before
dragging that thumb across his throat. She smiled and nodded at him before
pulling the biggest lever her control panel had. Slowly but surely, a parked
police van on the sidewalk levitated off the ground with the same invisible
wires to support it, though nobody could see them.
The fighting ceased once again despite Keith Turner’s
constant bellowing that this was just another “hocus pocus stunt”. The higher
in the air the van got, the more the crowd parted like the Red
Sea . Protesters, cops, and Klansmen alike dispersed from the
streets running like Olympic athletes. They left behind a battlefield of blood
and bodies. There were even wounded bodies in the streets struggling and
crawling to get away.
“This is horseshit! This is absolute horseshit!” Keith
complained. He jumped into the nearly empty streets and started kicking the
dead bodies of black protesters. “I’m so sick of this crap! Black lives don’t
matter, motherfuckers! Your lives don’t mean shit to me! I’m sick of that
stupid goddamn hashtag going around the fucking internet! You hear me?! I said
do you hear me…”
The wires, being thin enough to evade detection, were bound
to snap with that much weight underneath. Kobra knew this part of the illusion
was a bad idea and covered his eyes, not wanting to watch his cinematic
masterpiece crumble beneath him. But the sound of metal crunching on concrete deafened
his ears, he opened his field of vision again to see that the only thing
crumbling beneath him were Keith Turner’s bones. He was crushed underneath the
wrecked vehicle with just his head poking out and his eyes bulging from his
skull.
The poetic justice brought laughter to Kobra’s throat from
the depths of his belly. It was an evil laugh that only a sick and sadistic
demon could pull off. He even raised his hands to set off more flamethrowers
and lightning bolts to keep his gimmick alive in the eyes of those still
hanging around (which weren’t many). The howling laughter continued even as
Kobra was slowly being pulled inside the hideout by Lux’s controls.
The illusionist stripped off his robes, skeletal suit, and
angel wings to reveal a T-shirt and jeans underneath. “How did I do?” asked Kobra
with a sexy smile on his face.
Lux wrapped her silky arms around her lover’s neck and said
in a seductive voice, “I hope they give out Oscars for performances like that.
You were wonderful, my dear. You even had me scared for a minute. Come here,
sweetheart.” The magic-wielding couple pulled each other in for an emotional
kiss. This illusion was a long shot in the making, but it paid off handsomely.
Magic was real whether it was in the bloody streets of Paulson City
“I love you, Kobra.”
“I love you too, Lux. Don’t ever forget that.”
