Clare Easdown vs. Marcus DiPaola: The World Is Crazy Enough as It Is

 

Succubus Creek

Battered mashed potatoes on a stick couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than plebian carnival food…which was why Wendel Pompeo munched on it while scrolling through his phone at the Carnival De Garrison. Not a single text from his date. Not an LOL. Not an LMAO. Not even a winking emoji. Lifelessness flashed across the smart phone screen. Wendel sighed. “What’s the fucking point?”

Despite not knowing what the “fucking point” was, he continued eyeballing his phone and snacking on fatty carnival food. He was smack bang in the middle of merry-go-rounds, rollercoasters, dart games, and the occasional freaky sideshow…and all he cared about was the blue light burning a hole in his own baby blues. As far as he was concerned, an actual flame could consume him and he wouldn’t give a damn either way. Maybe such a fitting death would finally warm up his icy heart. Maybe it would give him warmth that not even his ugly Christmas sweater could. But nope. More scrolling. More scrolling. More scrolling. And then…

“Step right up!” The sudden belting voice smacked Wendel across the eardrums and pulled him out of his self-loathing stupor. The voice belonged to a raven-haired lady in a top hat, one-piece bathing suit, and fishnets, using her cane to indicate a small creek going through a dark tent. “Step right up and sail down Succubus Creek! Take a load off! Relax!” She smiled and winked at Wendel. “Live a little!”

He gulped and looked down at his brown leather shoes. “Eh, why not? Can’t be any worse than being stood up.” He reached in his jean pockets and pulled out a five dollar bill from his wallet.

The lady pointed her cane at Wendel and said in a flirty voice, “I like you, but not enough to give you a discount. That’ll be TEN dollars, boy.”

“But…your sign says five dollars per person. I’m the only one here.”

“Do you honestly believe you’ll be all alone in that boat? It’s called Succubus Creek for a reason. If nobody was there, it’d be called Sad Single Guy with Shitty Brown Hair Creek.”

Wendel fluffed his own hair, rolled his eyes, and sighed. “I guess you got a point there.” He fished a second five dollar bill out of his wallet and put his total fare in the lady’s top hat after she held it out for collection. As sure as the December air made him feel colder than a dead body, he was guaranteed a seat in his own boat. The lady handed him some wooden paddles, blew him a kiss, and sent him on his way down the chilling creek.

And there he transitioned from the darkness of a star-filled night to the emptiness of a pitch-black tent that seemed to expand for miles. After a few strokes of his paddles, Wendel was covered in ghostly shadows, left to his own devices…his own wandering thoughts…his own isolation…He really was all alone in this world, as if the constant doom-scrolling before the ride wasn’t enough of an indication.

And then…a creepy orange light glowed from beneath the waters. Wendel’s heart started pumping as the light expanded to reveal the head of a demonic woman, singular ponytail, devil’s horns, brown scales, and all. Even creepier than the orange light was the amber haze radiating from her eyes as they stared bullets into Wendel’s quivering soul. He desperately darted his own eyes around looking for an escape, but it was just him and the frigid waters, no sign of the carnie who sent him down this cursed creek.

The demonic woman crawled inside the boat and sat across from Wendel, her legs crossed together and her blade-fanged smile sending more chilly weather across his skin. And then she morphed into someone who had Wendel’s heart racing for a much different reason: a familiar pretty face from his past. “Hi there, cuddle bear. Remember me?”

How could he not? The long brunette hair and college emblems were unmistakable. “Katie?”

“Yep! It’s me. You picked a lovely place for our next date, didn’t you. Oh wait…this isn’t a date, is it? I figured as much. You know why? You dumped me, that’s why!” That last burst of anger almost made Wendel jump backwards into the creek. “Here’s a question I’ve always wanted to ask, and not for a friend, either. Why did you dump me, anyways? Hmm? Was I too much for you? Did I come over too many times? Did you not like me calling you all the time?” She heightened Wendel’s heartbeat as she leaned closer with evil eyes. “Was I just another one of your…conquests?! Is that what you do with women?! Do you just fuck them and leave them?!” No answer, only icy sweats. “Answer me, asshole!”

He spat in the creek next to him. “I have dreams of my own, you know! I can’t schedule my whole life around you, okay? That’s why I went to college in the first place. That’s why we all go to college. I went there to get A’s and B’s. What were YOU doing this whole time? Why are you even wearing those clothes in the first place?”

Katie languidly rubbed her thumb and forefinger over the fabric of her college sweater. “You don’t like these clothes on me?” she asked in a subdued voice. “Fine, I’ll take them off.” When she did, she revealed another girl underneath: a blond in a cheerleading outfit. “Do you like this version of me better?” Wendel’s eyes bulged with fear as this new transformation smiled at him. She laid on her stomach and swung her feet in the air. “I never did thank you for helping me with my homework and helping my mom carry groceries when she was laid up. That was really sweet of you.” Uncomfortable silence. “And then you fell off the face of the earth…AGAIN!”

Wendel furrowed his brows. “Charlie…you’re sixteen years old! It was never going to work out! EVER!”

Tears welled up in her eyes. “But…but…you weren’t in any real trouble! The age of consent is…”

“I don’t care what the age of consent is! It’s fucking gross! Get out of my boat!” Wendel whacked her into the creek with his paddle and tried to catch his breath after that dramatic exchange. His breath became shorter no matter how many times he huffed and puffed. The darkness and isolation of this creek was suffocating him like a pillow over his face.

“You’re not going to get rid of me that easily,” said the titular succubus as she crawled back into the boat with a new transformation, this time of a brown-skinned lady in a ripped Metallica T-shirt and knee-high leather boots. Wendel clutched his throat as he continued to fight for oxygen. “That dance floor was all ours. I could have taken you home with me. But you just kept staring at me…and staring at me…like I was some kind of freak. Are you really that shy? Were you really that scared of dancing with me?” She grabbed hold of Wendel’s hand only for him to jerk it away.

“Don’t touch me, Bailey. Don’t. Touch. Me.” Her face grew solemn as he emphasized those words with a pointed finger. “I don’t know what kind of drugs you did the night of the concert, but I didn’t want you dragging me down with you. Like I just got done telling Katie, I have dreams of my own! And they don’t involve…”

The succubus morphed again, this time into a silver-haired cougar. “Don’t involve what? Actual commitment?” She morphed into a southern redhead. “Actual love?” She morphed into a black lady in dreadlocks. “Actually giving a fuck about who you’re with?” The demon changed shape multiple times in succession while demanding answers from Wendel, who was curled up at his end of the boat in the fetal position. Would he risk jumping into shivery waters just to get away from this creature? Was hypothermia really preferable to confronting his own romantic failures? Yes. It was.

But before he could dive in, the succubus grabbed the waist of his jeans and yanked him back in. “You don’t want to do that, Wendel.” She said in a multi-layered, monstrous voice. “It’s cold out there. It’s lonely. Besides, you have someone waiting for you at the end of the creek.”

“I don’t need anyone to wait for me! All they want are free meals and alimony for life! How am I supposed to afford all of that?! I have dreams, damn it! I want to make movies! I want to be rich! I want to be…”

“You can be anything you want to be, Wendel! But don’t do it at the expense of those who care about you! Stop leading them on and tell them how you feel!” Wendel finally relaxed in somberness and the succubus let go of his jeans. “Why did you sail down my creek tonight? To get away from your responsibilities to these women? If you’re shy around them or are not interested, you need to tell them! If all you want is sex, you need to let them know beforehand! You can’t keep getting away with shit like this!”

He brought his knees to his face and tucked his face between them, hiding in shame yet again. “I’m sorry…It’s just that…if I tell them…I might…”

“You might what? Lose them?” No answer. None was needed. “You can’t have it both ways, Wendel. Pick one or the other. Do you want to fall in love or not?” Still no answer. It was still unneeded. “Listen to me. Give me your heart and all is forgiven.” He picked his head up and gave a confused look. “Give it to me, Wendel. You’ve used your heart for abandonment and selfishness. Now I want you to use it for love. If you love them, say so. If not, then letting them down is the best love you can give them.”

As the succubus glared at him for an answer, Wendel sat there and pondered these points. He could swim away to the end of the creek and dodge his responsibilities once more. He would be safe. He would be happy. And his dreams would continue. But…just because his heart was broken, didn’t mean the women in his life had to have broken hearts too. He reached inside his chest and gently removed his heart, which he played hot potato with due to how cold and frosty it really was.

The succubus rescued the heart from his hands and inspected it. “That certainly explains a lot. I’ll put it over there with all the others.” She dipped into the creek and stored the frozen heart in a heated treasure chest, where the ice melted and warmth spread across Wendel’s body. He could smile again. It had been so long since he’d done it. His face muscles thanked him for the moment of bliss.

The succubus swam back to the boat and reappeared as another woman from Wendel’s life: a green-haired nerd in a hoodie and thick-rimmed glasses. This time Wendel didn’t shake in his skivvies. He stared at her life seriousness in his eyes, like he actually had an answer for this puzzle.

“Sorry I didn’t text you back. I should have told you…” Tears welled up in her eyes. “I had to put my dog down today and I just…I couldn’t…”

Wendel wrapped his warm hands around his current girlfriend’s arms, touching her with the softest grasp and the purest intentions. “Kayla…do you need a shoulder to cry on?”

“No! I want chicken nuggets!”

He smiled at her and held her head against his chest while she cried in his wool sweater. “I could use some chicken nuggets too. To tell you the truth, it beats the shit out of this carnival food.”

Lonesome Town

VERSE 1

Like smoking fifteen cigarettes a day

A dead body is the price you will pay

A dead mind is all you’ll ever find

Can’t say isolation without saying I

Depression’s killing you deep inside

Under the blankets is where you hide

It’s never too late to ask for some help

Could be a stranger or one you know well

CHORUS

Welcome to Lonesome Town

Everyone is feeling down

Everyone is reaching out for love

But sometimes it’s never enough

VERSE 2

A crowded party feels empty and cold

No one to talk to and nobody to hold

Nobody is worth being so damn bold

The cycle of sadness is getting so old

Another night of loneliness and shame

Another night of brokenhearted pain

Another night of feeling like shit

Another night of getting sick of it

CHORUS

Welcome to Lonesome Town

Everyone is feeling down

Everyone is reaching out for love

But sometimes it’s never enough

VERSE 3

On the day of your coffin slumber

Do you regret being torn asunder?

Does taking a chance hurt that badly?

The answer is always yes, sadly

No place lonelier than the grave

Out of reach is the love you crave

Is there a next time? I don’t know

Is it worth the pain so deadly and slow?

CHORUS

Welcome to Lonesome Town

Everyone is feeling down

Everyone is reaching out for love

But sometimes it’s never enough

Everybody's Rock

The corny commercials on TV rotted Clark Hall’s brain into mush and froze his heart into an arctic glacier. The sounds of his girlfriend Sydney Farrow sobbing only a few feet away from him did nothing to bring him out of his trance. Even when Sydney took a few seconds to blow her nose or sob even louder, she couldn’t get her boyfriend’s undivided attention. She wiped away her tears with a napkin and finally asked, “Are we going to talk about this?”

“Nope,” said Clark without even thinking about his answer. Instead he just flipped through channels in a vain attempt to find something that will rejuvenate his porridge mind.

“Say something!” shrieked Sydney.

“Something.”

After one last wipe of her drenched face and smeared makeup, the pajama pants and tank top-wearing Sydney ripped the remote control out of Clark’s hand and turned the TV off. All he could do was stare her down with a frosty expression, not even a little burst of energy. With her hands animated, Sydney freaked out when she said, “Clark, why won’t you talk to me?! Just once I’d like to have a real conversation with you! For god’s sake, do something! Sing! Dance! Anything! Do anything at all!”

“Anything?”

“Yes, anything at all!”

Taking her words literally, Clark moseyed on over to the kitchen table and sprinkled salt n his own head. “There, I did something.”

Wide-eyed and slack-jawed, Sydney asked, “What the hell’s wrong with you?! Are you fucking insane?! You knew damn well what I meant! You’re taking a serious situation and ripping the piss!”

“Serious? You want to talk about seriousness? How am I supposed to take you seriously when you keep crying every damn day?! Every fucking day, it’s the same thing! More tears! More drama! More bullshit! You know why I watch so much television? Because it’s the only thing that can take me away from your horseshit!”

Holding Clark’s hand in hers, Sydney wept, “Please, stop talking like that! You’re scaring me!” In typical Clark Hall fashion, the stone cold lover dropped to his knees and rattled off in devilish tongues. Sydney finally snapped, “You’re scaring me!”

Seemingly taking this conversation seriously, Clark stood back up and gazed into his girlfriend’s damp eyes. “You’re scared, huh? That’s okay, baby girl. I’m scared too. I’m scared of where this dramatic diarrhea will take us. I’m scared of never being able to feel happy again. Your sadness is making me sad! The only difference between you and me is that I’m not allowed to cry, seeing as how I’m a man and all.”

“Nobody said you couldn’t cry, Clark!”

“Bullshit! That’s bullshit! I hear people say that shit everyday! I’m always the one who has to be the strong superman for everybody! I’m the one who has to be everybody’s rock! I remember being a kid when I rode my bike and landed on my ass! Did anybody let me cry? No! Not one fucking person! Not my dad! Not my mom! They both wanted me to be a so-called real man! Well, congratulations, fuckers! I’m a real fucking man now!”

Taking her boyfriend’s hands once again, Sydney delicately said, “You can cry in front of me if you want, Clark. I won’t judge you. I’d never judge you for something like that.”

“Yeah right! If I start sobbing, who are you going to have left for comfort? Huh? Who’s going to be there for emotional support? I don’t even know how to fall to pieces! Twenty fucking years of pissed off feelings, Sydney, and I ain’t done a damn thing with all that rage! Now what?!”

Eyebrows furrowed, teeth clenched, skin pink, and muscles tensed, Sydney’s rage boiled over when she whispered, “You want to cry? Go ahead, Clark. Do it. Do it! Cry, damn it! Show some emotion for the first time in your fucking life! Be the man I fell in love with so many years ago! The one who wrote me all that poetry! The one who didn’t give a shit what anybody else thought of him! Come on, damn it, cry! Cry!” Her last few words were punctuated with shoves to Clark’s chest.

He brushed his hand through his thick brown hair and used his Pink Floyd the Wall T-shirt to air himself out, but no tears came. Not one drop. Just clenched teeth and a pointed finger. “You can’t do this to me, Sydney. You’re not going to break me. Not tonight, not ever!”

Sydney brought Clark’s face over and planted a wet kiss on his lips, get a few teardrops on his shoulders in the process. The boyfriend’s eyes widened at the gesture while the girlfriend remained pissed off and intense. “Now cry, damn it. Cry! You have my permission even though you never needed it. Open those floodgates!”

Clark’s breathing intensified while he tried in vain to hide his face from his girlfriend. His muscles tightened, then relaxed, then tightened, then relaxed again. His face was concentrated on his black socks and teal sweatpants. Twenty years of being pissed off. Twenty years of nothingness. Twenty years of emptiness. It all resulted in a primal scream of the F-word followed by several punches to the couch cushions. It didn’t matter how hard he punched, because no amount of toughness could prepare him for what came next.

The first tear dropped on the couch pillow. Then the second. Then the third. And then they swarmed and multiplied until the emotional dam finally exploded. For the first time in Clark’s life, he felt absolution from being “everybody’s rock”. He tried hard to suck back his tears, but it was too late: the floodgates had permanently opened. “This isn’t fair,” he muttered. “This isn’t fair!”

As Clark sobbed some more, he felt Sydney’s fingernails gently scraping down his back while the softness of her other hand petted his hair like a kitty. She whispered in his ear, “Of course it’s fair, honey. Don’t fight it. Let them come.”

“How? How could I let this happen?”

“It’s okay, Clark. I love you. I always will. Scoot over, I want to lay next to you.” The two of them snuggled together on the couch sobbing silently into each other’s arms. It was as Clark prophesized: more drama. More tears. More bullshit. More awkwardness. But it felt right. It felt as though this was where the conversation was meant to go all along. Twenty years of bitterness could never have become twenty-one no matter how hard Clark tried. He didn’t remember much from that night, but only because he fell asleep on the couch shortly after, taking Sydney’s cherry kisses with him into dreamland.

By the time the butt crack of dawn came shining through the apartment window, Clark Hall was so drained that he didn’t even have the energy to open his eyes, which were still damp, salty, and fiery from the night before. The only difference was that Sydney wasn’t in his arms anymore. Clark slowly picked his head up off the pillow and saw that she was drinking coffee at the kitchen table, still in her tank top and pajama pants.

The psychologically emancipated boyfriend peeled his body off of the leather couch and stumbled towards the table to join his equally drained girlfriend. A cup of coffee was already there waiting for him. He took several sips of the sugar and cream-drenched stimulant, but still couldn’t wake up. If he spent eternity on that couch, it would be alright with him.

Breaking the awkward silence, Clark asked, “Did you want to talk about last night?”

“Did you?”

“No, not really,” said Clark as he stretched his arms out. “I have to be at work in an hour. All that crying drained me the fuck out.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“I don’t even want to go today, but it is what it is. Maybe we can talk about this tomorrow?”

“…Yeah…tomorrow…”

The two of them absentmindedly sipped their coffee while the lessons of the previous night struggled to sink in. Would tomorrow be another dramatic spell? Would Clark spend more time in front of the TV? He didn’t know. He didn’t want to know. All he wanted to do was go back to sleep and maybe take a sick day. But just like with all things in life, it was back to the grind again. Just another day, just another lousy paycheck. “Tomorrow…tomorrow…I love you…tomorrow…” Clark sang in his head.

"Benevolent Slayers" by Marie Krepps

BOOK TITLE: Benevolent Slayers

AUTHOR: Marie Krepps

YEAR: 2017

GENRE: Fiction

SUBGENRE: Post-Apocalyptic Fantasy

GRADE: Pass

In a necrocosm swarming with evil beasts, it is the duty of the Benevolent Slayers to extinguish these threats and bring peace to the world. Although the muscular warrior Brock the Rock and the magic-wielding druid Saber share the same job title, they work together only out of necessity and not because they want to. The more adventures they go on together, the more they realize just how much they need each other. They’ve spent years closing their hearts off to everyone around them due to their painful pasts. Now that they have an ultra-powerful vampire to hunt down, freezing each other out is no longer an option. It’s kill or be killed in this post-apocalyptic nightmare and nobody does a better job of killing than Brock and Saber.

The themes of dead emotions and social barriers are what really got me into this story. I personally have struggled with shyness and keeping everyone out all of my life, which is why my social circle is limited to only a few people. In this story you have two badass warriors, Brock and Saber, who don’t want to be vulnerable around each other for fear of getting hurt worse than when they actually go into battle. But the more time they spend around each other, the more they begin to open up about their traumas. Reading about a character in a book is like having a relationship in real life: you can only care about somebody if you have a reason to do so. The more you know about a person, the less likely you are to judge them. Marie Krepps doesn’t just make you care about her two main characters; she holds your emotions hostage and squeezes those tears from your eyes like grapefruit juice.

Of course, where would a fantasy story be if there wasn’t at least a modicum of delicious violence? Here, you get more than a modicum. There’s no rest for the weary in this world of villainous demons. If you’re caught slipping, you’ll be a bloody mess before you can say…anything at all. Normally readers like to cheer for the average joe because that’s who they can relate the most to. This world weeds out the average joes in a big hurry whether it’s with a plague or getting ripped apart by savage warriors. Yes, the two main characters are battle-tested ass-kickers, but they’re far from Mary-Sues and Gary-Stus. They’re real people with a lifetime full of intense emotions (which they keep hidden from each other throughout the novel, of course). Not only will you root for them to get their ducks in a row, but you will also cheer like a stadium full of wild fans once they win their physical battles. And boy, do they have plenty of those!

You also have to admire the world-building Marie Krepps has done with her novel. You would think a post-apocalyptic world would be easy breezy lemon squeezy since it’s basically just one big rotten wasteland. Uh-uh! These towns vary wildly from each other whether it’s the ability to relax, the urgency of their problems, the hostility or friendliness of the citizens, and the political structure of those in charge. Even the outside world has a lot of uniqueness to it, mostly because of the strange creatures and bipolar weather systems that pass through. Somewhere near the beginning of the novel, Marie Krepps made room for a tanuki, which is a Japanese creature that’s a mix between a raccoon and a dog. Whenever I kept reading about him, I just wanted to rub his belly and play with his ears. Aww! Every place the Slayers go and every person or creature they meet is as colorful and vivid as a reader would want them to be, if not more so.

This novel is more than just an ass-kicking fairytale. It’s every bit as emotional and heartbreaking as it is violent and colorful. You have no choice but to actually give a damn about these characters and if you don’t, you probably don’t have a pulse. If you don’t have a pulse, you can always count on Saber to use her healing magic on you. I won’t say when she uses it or what the circumstances are, but when she does, your heart will explode with passion like an active volcano. This A+ author deserves yet another passing grade for her beautiful story!