Corpsefire Doesn't Need Smiting, He Needs Dayquil

 

Going Nuts

Not a spark of electricity in this whole damn house

Not enough melatonin to knock my ass out

My dreams are lysergic, my reality is no different

Going nuts in a dark room with demonic visions

My body could fry a whole carton of eggs

My throat slime could melt through my nonexistent neck

My nose is undergoing medieval torture

A mountain of tissues ruined in short order

Coughing up a storm of pandemic proportions

Dreading the days of insurance extortions

No breathing apparatus to pump my lungs

Waking up from dreams that feel like drugs

Alcoholic syrup is the only solution

To keep me away from the mental institution

The late night is over, the day starts at dawn

Still the electricity won’t come back on

I slosh along like a radioactive blob

Throat’s too sore for corn on the cob

I might as well swallow shards of glass

The next 24 hours can kiss my ass

Nothing to do but lay down and drift

Leaving my thoughts to sort and sift

Through a filter that was never there before

Demons in my head fight an endless war

With swords, rifles, bombs, and nerve gas

Turning my brain into a mass grave fast

The world wasn’t supposed to end this way

But why expect it to last forever and a day?

The power’s back on and so is the news

My fever kills, but millions are screwed

A fever passes with time and some rest

Hits different when the rich see you as a pest

If it had been measles or god forbid COVID

We’d have bigger problems than feeling hopeless

I survived insanity and snot-covered sickness

Got any more tragedies for me to witness?

Going nuts is kind of what I do the best

Don’t believe me? You fail the polygraph test

We Need to Talk

Sorry to bother you, but we need to talk

Grab your coat and let’s go for a walk

You’re not in trouble, of that I’m sure

I swear my intentions are good and pure

But something you did upset me so

It’ll be a while before you finally know

Let the quiet tension build within you

Run the gamut of drama old and new

Anxiety weighs heavily on your soul

Head is swimming, blood runs cold

You already forgot you’re not in trouble

Let your stomach acids boil and bubble

Remember that thing you did days ago?

Remember what you said with angry flow?

It hurts when you do that, don’t do it again

I actually reconsidered us being best friends

I’ll put it behind me, no question about it

But even you are beginning to doubt it

You’re red in the face, damp in the eyes

The next word from your mouth is a cry

You hold it in, let your eyeballs ache

Let your mind circle, your heart break

We had a good talk, though you never spoke

You desperately wanted this to be a joke

You won’t accept a hug from my arms

You won’t accept my sweetest charms

When we get back home, you stew alone

Glued to your computer or smart phone

Anything to get away from the awkwardness

And the guilt and shame on top of this

Until next time when you do it again

Solitude and blankets, your only friends

Make no mistake, we needed this talk

But when I’m gone, you’ll change the lock

Staying In Bed

To hell with being dutiful

Staying in bed is beautiful

A purring kitty on my chest

He agrees that it’s time to rest

Piano music calms me down

Hypnotized by the gentle sound

Cold breeze blowing outside

Under the blankets is where I hide

Back to work on another day

Couldn’t motivate myself anyway

Stare at the ceiling, think about life

Share my bed with an imaginary wife

Watch movies playing in my head

They don’t make a lick of sense

Heater blasting on a winter night

Makes resisting sleep an uphill fight

But I can’t stay here forever and ever

Despite the drop in barometric pressure

Another day waits on the other side

That way you can’t say I never tried

Still walking around like the undead

Not a whole lot going on in my head

A few more hours until it gets dark

Until rainwater floods the public park

Until the moon shines down upon us all

Until face down on the bed is where I fall

Disconnect my telephone line

Tomorrow everything will be just fine

Like it is almost every damn day

No sense in asking me if I’m okay

"Winter Wishes of the Heart" by Ashley Uzzell

BOOK TITLE: Winter Wishes of the Heart

AUTHOR: Ashley Uzzell

YEAR: 2017

GENRE: Fictional Short Stories

SUBGENRE: Winter Love

GRADE: Pass

If you’re looking for four short stories that will warm your insides like a cup of hot chocolate, you’ve found the right book. They’re short and sweet, emphasis on sweet. Whether it’s Christmas, New Years, or Valentine’s Day, you’ll always have the wonderful writing of Ashley Uzzell by your side. Grab a fuzzy kitty, wrap yourself in a blanket, and light the fireplace: you’re in for a nice cozy evening.

Of all four stories, my personal favorite has to be Round Table Chant. This one’s about an anxiety patient named Herbie who feels obligated to go to a Christmas party despite the triggers of being around strange people. Mental illnesses are a favorite topic of mine to read about, especially in stories where the sufferer conquers his demons in the end. We need more lovable characters like Herbie in today’s books. Representation matters. It matters a lot. Mentally ill people shouldn’t be ashamed of who they are or the demons that try to hold them down. If anybody’s writing can put this group of people at ease and make them feel powerful, it’s Ashley Uzzell’s. While I won’t give away the ending, rest assured that this story will warm your heart like a bowl of clam chowder. I’d even dare say Round Table Chant deserves its own novel.

That’s not to devalue the other three stories, because they too are just as cute and cuddly to read about. If you want shy guy romance, read David’s Gift. If you want body positivity, try Emily’s Valentine. If you want a brotherly love, get started on What We Built. There’s something for everybody in this collection of short stories. If you don’t personally relate to one thing, you’ll relate to the next. Winter holidays are inclusive of everybody, just like Ashley Uzzell herself. It matters not if you’re rich or poor, young or old, happy or sad: you’ve got a place in her audience if you want to come in from the cold.

Ashley Uzzell knocks it out of the park yet again. Then again, she kind of has a reputation for doing just that. In all my years of reading her books (under both of her aliases), I haven’t come across one that disappointed me yet, nor do I expect to. She’s the go-to author of our generation. She makes independent authors proud to be who they are by virtue of her achievements. If she can kick butt on such a consistent basis, what does that mean for other aspiring writers who need hope in this world? A passing grade for her wonderful winter tales!

Cold

VERSE 1

I gave up on helping you a long time ago

The tears in your eyes continued to flow

You never wanted help, never wanted peace

The negativity never really wanted to cease

You argue even after being proven wrong

Your heart is weak, your ego is strong

I’ll never help those who won’t help themselves

I guess that makes my heart cold as hell

CHORUS

You wonder why I act so cold

Because this shit is getting old

Sick of watching drama unfold

It’s the final time you will be told

VERSE 2

Believe it or not, I was once in your shoes

But I turned negativity into the oldest news

Took me many years to see clearly now

At my kind of age, I’m feeling damn proud

My ego was once the size of good old Texas

I had no interest in cleaning my own messes

I hated the world with a burning passion

If I hadn’t listened, I’d wear funeral fashion

EXTENDED CHORUS 1

You wonder why I act so cold

Because this shit is getting old

Sick of watching drama unfold

It’s the final time you will be told

Call me heartless, call me cold

Your hand was never mine to hold

Take a chance, be brave and bold

Or sleep underground covered in mold

BRIDGE

I’ve never been great at the toughest love

Now my new role fits just like a glove

You’ve pushed my buttons too many times

With the number of times I’ve heard you whine

EXTENDED CHORUS 2

You wonder why I act so cold

Because this shit is getting old

Sick of watching drama unfold

It’s the final time you will be told

Call me an asshole, call me a bastard

Call me anything, it doesn’t matter

You’re going to listen if you like it or not

Wipe away your tears and bubbly snot

Medusa

VERSE 1
The eyes of Medusa turn you to stone
Chilling your skin right down to the bone
For all of your sins, it’s too late to atone
The palace gates are your brand new home

CHORUS
Snakes for hair, ice for a heart
Demonic flesh for body parts
Look at her face, it’s time to embrace
Your final fate in this human race

VERSE 2
The fangs of Medusa chew through your throat
Spilling your blood and guts in the acidic moat
The tongue of Medusa says her goodbyes
As she glares at you with those devilish eyes

CHORUS
Snakes for hair, ice for a heart
Demonic flesh for body parts
Look at her face, it’s time to embrace
Your final fate in this human race

HOOK
She’s the twenty-first century heartbreaker
She’ll lead you straight to the undertaker
Into the hands of your own damn creator
How much will it take for you to hate her?

VERSE 3
The soul of Medusa is empty and frozen
She is the one that you’ve clearly chosen
Seduced into a life of poverty and hell
You don’t have the urge to kiss and tell

EXTENDED CHORUS
Snakes for hair, ice for a heart
Demonic flesh for body parts
Look at her face, it’s time to embrace
Your final fate in this human race
The underworld gods are laughing
The hellhounds’ claws are slashing
Was any of this lust worth it in the end?
Be sure to give her your regards to send

Laya Murderspell

NAME: Laya Murderspell

AGE: 28

OCCUPATION: Sorceress

CANONS: Diablo II and Zeromancer

A dark fantasy novel wouldn’t be complete without a psychotic sorceress named Laya Murderspell. Any woman with “murder” in her last name has got to be trouble. After all, you wouldn’t want a woman named Laya Murderspell doing your taxes, would you? How about babysitting your children? Or taking you out for dinner and dancing at Taco Bell? I like a good burrito every now and then, but I love my life even more, which is why I won’t be romanced by Miss Murderspell anytime soon.

Laya is yet another dark fantasy character who got her start in a game of Diablo II: Lord of Destruction. As I’ve said with another sorceress whose name was Audrey Chainsaw, magic users aren’t my cup of tea when it comes to playing videogames. They’re not known for going toe-to-toe with their blades by their sides, so their fighting ability is extremely limited. They use magic attacks that require mana points. And once those mana points deplete, what then?

The other problem with Laya as a Diablo II character was her element of choice, which was fire. Burning people alive in a videogame is one of my favorite pastimes. But in this videogame, fire attacks don’t have the same nasty side effects that poison and cold elemental spells do, poison quickly depletes HP and cold magic slows movement.

What can you do with fire? Damage. That’s about it. If you’re going to do damage to somebody, would you rather it be with a barbarian with an axe (which requires no mana) or a sorceress with a fireball (which requires more mana than she’s worth).

In a 2011 dark fantasy novel I wrote called Zeromancer, Laya wasn’t bound down by videogame limits. I even dare say that she was a likeable character. She was the best friend of an Amazon warrior named Fatima Runetooth, who needed a best friend in the worst way after being sodomized by a gang of barbarians led by the main villain of that act, Rinehart Blackwolf.

Laya was a great friend who would do anything for Fatima. She would braid Fatima’s hair, share secrets with her, chat with her at 500 words per minute, and throw a fireball or a lightning bolt at anybody who tried to take advantage of her bestie. Laya Murderspell, despite having a scary last name, was great to have not only in the high school cafeteria, but also in the trenches.

I know I’ve been joking about Laya’s last name throughout this whole character analysis. And not one time did I joke about Laya sharing the same name, but different spelling with the metal bikini-wearing sex goddess from Star Wars Episode VI: Return of the Jedi. If I really wanted to play the fan service angle, I could do that with Laya.

But the last name of Murderspell makes her a character to be feared instead of trusted. If I want to make her into a realistic hero, the last name has to be changed. Otherwise, she’ll be misconstrued as a villain for the rest of her existence. If she does get taken for a hero, she’ll only be good for one thing and that’s being undefeated in combat, which would in turn make her a Mary-Sue. In short, Laya Murderspell has a lot of reconstruction to undergo if she’s going to be used as a reliable hero. But since I have a shortage of female villains in my archives, I think keeping her as is would be best for business. Problem solved!

Audrey Chainsaw

Okay, so chainsaws weren’t invented in the dark ages, but it’s still pretty damn sweet to see a sorceress with the name Audrey Chainsaw coming to Deckard Cain’s rescue. The name alone is enough to send shivers down the spines of imp demons (not that they don’t already have them as evidenced by their constant evasions). If my Diablo II: Lord of Destruction sorceress was named Audrey Periwinkle, her dead enemies would come back to life just to laugh at her. She would die of low self-esteem, which sounds nastier than some of the things Diablo’s minions did to the rogue soldiers with their torture devices.

Although Audrey didn’t carry an anachronistic weapon around like a chainsaw, she was still a deadly sorceress to play with in Diablo II. She was just like any other sorceress I played with in the sense she specialized in cold magic. Just one blast from Audrey’s mystic energies would either slow down or completely immobilize her opponents (the latter provided it wasn’t a boss enemy).

Once the enemies were frozen in place, Audrey whacked them relentlessly with whatever weapon she had until they turned into puddles of water. Puddles of water can’t be resurrected in the same way a fresh corpse can, which is bad news for an imp shaman as well as Blood Raven. Then again, it’s also bad news for any necromancer that might want to be in my adventuring party since they too can raise undead minions.

In a game where fast enemies can cause a fast death, slowing them down with frost magic is essential. Unfortunately, that’s where the fun ends with Audrey Chainsaw and any other sorceress using cold magic. Audrey became so dependent on her magic that she never had the chance to beef herself up into a legitimate warrior. And what was she supposed to do against an enemy with mana burn? Or what if she used her magic so many times and drank all of her mana potions? Limited mana is the one thing about magic users that pissed me off no matter what fantasy-themed game I was playing, which is why I favored warriors since they could take a beating as well as give a relentless one.

Audrey never made it past the first act. Every time she engaged in battle with Andariel, she was killed so easily that resurrecting her became a pain in the ass after a while. While it may be too late for Audrey Chainsaw to become a legitimate threat in a videogame, it’s not too late for her as a book character.

Seeing as how her last name is Chainsaw, she’d have to have powerful cold magic right off the bat. No learning, no sharing, no growth, just straight up cold magic. But if she’s not required to learn anything, then it means she can’t be the main character of whatever book I’m writing. Main characters grow and develop while side characters may already be there and villains weaken over time. I loved playing as Audrey in Diablo II, but if she has to play second banana in order to make a story believable, then so be it. I wouldn’t even be opposed to making her the main villain. We’ll just wait and see what happens.

　

***DOMESTIC DIALOGUE OF THE DAY***

ME: Tomorrow in school, Reina is going to learn about the Norwegian deserts and the Mexican glaciers.

SUSAN: Why would she be learning about that? Wait a minute, you’re an asshole!