Clue: Because Syntax Matters...A LOT!

Valenceo Styler, flashy heel wrestler from "Seven Star Reads"

 

Butterscotch

The tear that burned Abby Cole’s purple and black eye was but a droplet in an ocean of sorrow and silence. Though she kept her head down as she walked hurriedly down the street, she was painfully aware of passersby staring at her wound. Whether it was in pity or disgust, she was too numb to figure out. Their stares made her feel like even more of an outcast than she already was. The difference between the gawking pedestrians and Daniel Park? Abby could easily forget the judgmental masses. After all, they weren’t the ones who threw the punch during school in the first place.

The more Daniel Park’s cold, demonic expression stained her mind, the more her colorful eye burned with pooling tears. His screams earlier that day were barely intelligible, but they were loud enough to leave her ears ringing. His fist was harder than a cinder block and almost put her into a permanent sleep. Getting rid of him would be an easy solution for the school administration, but it would imply that anybody cared. Judging from the cracked infrastructure and unwashed graffiti surrounding the school, the uncaring attitudes of those in charge were more obvious than the all-consuming wound across Abby’s face.

Abby couldn’t even think about anything else at that moment. If she tried to do math homework that evening, she would only be counting the pieces of her face she had to pick up. If she tried to do history homework, then she could justify putting so many violent wars in one textbook, hers chief among them. If she tried to write a poem, no words would come out, just like her current silence dictated. Forget A-pluses and scholarships. All she wanted to do was lie face down on her bed and drift into the darkness forever and ever.

She had passed a few neon signs in the street for barbecue joints and strip clubs and their obnoxious lights burned her eye as well. She couldn’t open it to full length no matter how hard she tried…until a little patch of fur came darting out of the alleyway. Nobody else was there to judge her and the tiny kitten. The cat stared up at Abby with pitiful eyes and let out a series of soft, high-pitched meows. His yellow and orange striped fur looked gentle enough to touch despite him being a street cat who no doubt had to fight for his food.

Abby’s smile was wide enough to burn her eye again, but this time she didn’t wince nor care. “Come on, little kitty!” she sweetly said while kneeling down on the ground and holding her hand out. “It’s okay, nobody’s going to hurt you. Are you lost? Do you need some snuggles and love?” The cat meowed at her some more before creeping up to her hand and jumping into her arms for a hug. He purred loudly in her ear while Abby stroked his velveteen fur. “I’m going to call you Butterscotch, because you’re sweet!”

Butterscotch licked Abby’s bruise with his rough tongue and caused some yellow leakage, but she didn’t mind as evidenced by her giggles and continued pettings. “You’re such a love bug!” she squealed to him. Forget laying in bed all night long. She could stay in these now empty streets for eternity if it meant loving and being loved by this tender creature. Butterscotch would never punch her in the face. He would never scream obscenities about pimping and prostitution. This kitty would never stare at Abby with evil eyes.

Daniel Park, on the other hand, didn’t mind doing those things at all. His familiar gruff voice could be heard clearing his throat and just like that, Butterscotch leapt out of Abby’s arms and hid behind a dustbin, leaving her with a mild scratch on her bare arm. Abby began to feel conscious about any other body part that could be easily revealed to Daniel. Her flannel skirt showed off her legs. Her high heeled shoes gave away free foot content. She pulled on her black T-shirt to keep it from looking too tight on her.

With his victim trembling before him unable to speak, the leather-jacket-wearing, face-tattooed Daniel lit up a cigarette and slowly approached her with a tightened fist. “So…have you thought about my offer from earlier? Are you ready to make me an ass-load of money? I want that ass, Abby. I got horny bastards that’ll pay good money for an ass like that. What do you say?” No answer, only trembles and tears. “Are you deaf?!” he roared before taking another drag of his cigarette and stomping it out.

“Uh…uh…uh…Daniel? I, uh…I can’t do that.” Abby had a hard time steadying her body, almost to where she was going to fall over.

Daniel grabbed a hold of Abby’s shirt and caused her to yelp. “Shut up, bitch!” he screamed as he raised his fist in the air. “I was asking rhetorical questions when I made you that offer. I’m not giving you a choice, bitch. You either come with me and sell some ass or I’ll leave you laying in the fucking street. It doesn’t matter to me either way. Bitches like you are a dime a dozen!” He lifted up her skirt and she could only tremble some more. “Since you won’t be able to use that mouth of yours for a while…I was wondering if…”

Butterscotch emerged from behind the dustbin and hissed at Daniel. He asked, “Who’s that little shit stain? Friend of yours, Abby? You wish your pussy was that small?”

“L…l…leave Butterscotch alone!” Abby flinched in anticipation for another punch.

“Butterscotch? Is that what you’re calling him? Shit, I don’t even have to beat your ass again. I’ll just wring this little fucker’s neck, how about that?”

Abby collapsed on the ground and sobbed as Daniel slowly approached Butterscotch, pounding his fists and earning hisses and growls for his intimidation tactics. “Here, kitty-kitty-kitty!” he said in a creepy voice. “Maybe I’ll take my phone out and play some Sarah McLaughlin music or some shit. That’d make a hell of an ASPCA commercial, don’t you think?”

“Leave him alone!”

“Fuck you, cunt!” Daniel raised his fist in the sky and poised for another beat down on Abby. She tightly closed her eyes and held her hands up in defeat, so she only got to hear the action when Butterscotch screamed and scratched Daniel hard enough that he let out a monstrous, “Ouch!”

The double-tracked yell plus the goopy noise emitting from Daniel’s wound caused Abby to open her eyes to see what was up. Green ooze leaked from his palm while his eyes glowed neon red. He stared down at her and said, “That’s right, bitch. I’m a motherfucking demon. We’re everywhere! Ever wonder why nobody gives a shit about your sorry ass? Demons don’t give a shit about anyone, so don’t feel too left out.”

Abby’s breathing intensified and her heart rate sped up to dizzying heights as it lodged in her throat. She was just going to lay there for her attacker while Butterscotch snuggled up against her chest. Demons ran this world whether she accepted it or not. Demons weren’t in the business of fixing schools or policing criminals. They were in the business of creating even deeper bruises on people more vulnerable than her. They were in the business of selling ass and literally raising hell.

Abby didn’t want to live in such a world anymore, but realized that if she gave up now, she wouldn’t be able to hold sweet kitties in her arms wherever the afterlife took her. A coffin was no place for a grieving cat. Her body was no place for a demon’s hands, which had developed wrinkles, hair, and claws as they reached down to grab her. Butterscotch swiped at Daniel again and opened his palm gash even wider, causing more green goop to spill.

“Goddamn it, you little bastard! I’m going to rip your tail off and shove it up Abby’s pussy!” Daniel wrapped his good hand around Butterscotch’s neck and was poised to make good on his threats.

Abby remembered that there were no sweet kitties in the afterlife. Butterscotch needed her here and now. If she wasn’t going to fight for herself, she had to fight for her new furry friend. She saw an opening…mainly the one in Daniel’s hideous hand. In one swift motion, she grabbed the demon’s wound with her manicured nails and opened it wider and wider with every slash. Tears poured down her face and blinded her from the green goop spilling everywhere. Her ears bled from the demon’s screaming in pain. Her ears also took a pounding from Butterscotch growling as he bit his attacker.

Soon enough, Abby ripped off an entire strip of demonic skin. And another. And another. Her heart rate could barely keep up with her tearful rage. “Die, you motherfucker! Just die already!” she screamed as she ripped more flesh from the gaping wound. She pulled out muscle fibers and organ pieces. She ripped a piece of bone out as well after some hard tugging. She had to stop her rage for a moment to wipe her eyes, but when they were clear, they widened at her handiwork.

Daniel’s red devil arm was stripped completely of skin and muscles. His green goopy blood sprayed all over the ground and leaked into the sewers. His screams grew silent and more pathetic as he crumpled to the ground dying. His string of obscenities remained unintelligible, but not because of traumatic blocking. He bled and broke until his monstrous, muscle-bound, leather-skinned body was just a heap of crap lying on the sidewalk, no different from one of Butterscotch’s constitutionals. To put it mildly, Daniel Park was dead.

Abby’s body still shook in a combination of shock and trauma. Her painful eye was still wide and achy. Her mouth kept trembling as she spoke. “I did it,” she said in amazement. “I killed that bastard. He’s gone…” She leaned down to extend her demonic-ooze-covered hand to Butterscotch and he licked the fluid off for her. “You saved my life, little guy. You’re just a baby. You shouldn’t have to save people like me. You should be cuddled and loved forever. Dad would never let me keep you.” That last sentence caused more tears to scorch her purple wound.

“Don’t worry, baby Butterscotch. I’ll find you a nice home. I’ll get you away from these demons…if there really are more out there. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if my good-for-nothing dad was one himself. He’d never believe me if I told him what Daniel did to me. He’d just be like, ‘Suck it up! Rah-rah-rah-rah-rah!’”

Butterscotch rubbed his head against Abby’s ankle and she rewarded him with scratches behind the ears. Only then did she notice that his claws were marked with weird-looking runic symbols. They were long, too. And jagged. Did this cat know what he was doing all along? That gave Abby an idea…

“Hey, Butterscotch…would you like to meet my daddy? Of course you would! Hehe!”

Shield Me

The closer the subway train got to the Dreadnaught City station, the more Colonel Scott Percival doubted whether or not he could return to a normal life. Still dressed in his black khakis, brown boots, and black combat vest from the war, everything about Scott screamed “soldier”.

There was not one trace of love or peace in his contemplative facial expression as he kept his eyes glued to the floor of the train. Visions of war caused him to clench and unclench his ham-hawk fists. His energy blade was nestled by his side in case the war came back home with him. He never knew when the next explosion would come or who would be next to fire an assault rifle at him. In the cyberpunk hellhole of Dreadnaught City, being steadfast and hyper-vigilant was a way of life.

Scott’s inner demons were interrupted by the beeping sound of the train doors opening at its final stop for the night. With nobody else onboard except for him, getting off this clunky car was the easiest part of his evening so far.

The hardest part was seeing his girlfriend Gayle Rodriguez leaning against a platform pillar with her arms and legs crossed and tears running down her face. No trace of happiness, not even a weak smile, just a red cocktail dress, flowing black hair, and eyeballs full of stinging juices.

The traumatized soldier approached the equally traumatized girlfriend and wrapped his massive arms around her in a tender embrace. “It’s okay, baby girl. I’m home now,” Scott said in his best smooth jazz voice while stroking Gayle’s silky soft hair.

Gayle broke the embrace and looked into Scott’s coffee brown eyes with her own puppy-dog expression. “You don’t understand, babe. I can’t be with you anymore. I’ve done something horrible. I’m sorry, Scott! I can’t do this! I had to make money while you were away…and…I…I…”

“Back to work, sweetheart. Your dinner break was over an hour ago,” said a rough feminine voice from the shadows of the platform. When the woman walked into the overhead light, she revealed herself to be a gasmask-wearing heavyweight with a large red geisha robe fitting snugly over her pudgy features. Like Scott, she too had an energy blade nestled beside her, ready for combat at a moment’s notice.

With a look of concern shadowed by his black dreadlocks, Scott asked, “Gayle, who is this woman? What have you been doing while I was away?”

Gayle’s sobs became louder as she buried her face into her boyfriend’s chest and yelled, “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, Scott!”

“Break up the love fest, you stupid bitch!” shouted the obese woman. “There are horny men that need attending to and I don’t have anybody else to do it! You want your paycheck? You want to keep living in a heated apartment? Come with me! Never mind that loser you’re hugging! If he was a real boyfriend, he would have stayed home with you instead of running away from his so-called patriotic duty!”

Scott broke the embrace with his girlfriend and slowly paced toward the female pimp with his hand firmly around the dragon-themed hilt of his energy blade. “What did you say to me, bitch? What did you say?! You want to get your head chopped off tonight or what?!” Gayle was about to interrupt him with a sorrowful warning, but Scott backed her off and said, “Just stay behind me and don’t do a damn thing! I’ve got this! We can talk about the whole prostitution thing later! Right now, I’m going to gut this fat bitch alive and spread her insides all over this fucking platform!”

The pimp glared at Scott behind her hideous gasmask and drew her skeleton-themed hilt before ejecting a blade of hot red energy from it. She swung it around with the deftness of a samurai, sometimes even showing off when she spun it in the air. “For the record, my name isn’t fat bitch. It’s Carla Madder. Madame Carla Madder. The only one who should get her name changed to bitch is that woman you’re protecting!”

Scott Percival screamed in primal fury before drawing his glowing blue energy blade and throwing down with Carla Madder. Gayle stayed in the background curled up in a ball on the floor and letting her tears and snot run down her legs. The two warriors slashed and twirled their blades at each other, sometimes blocking with their weapons and other times flipping and dodging out of harm’s way. Their weapons even took chunks of cement out of the pillars and floor. The more destruction they caused to public property, the more they swung at each other with a berserker’s fury. Their furious brawl stalled with the two warriors holding their weapons together and glaring violently at each other.

“Is that all you got? I thought you soldiers had big fucking grenades. Turns out your just smuggling some cherry bombs!” taunted Carla. After laughing obnoxiously at her own joke, Scott went for an overhead slash only to have her duck down and head butt him in the stomach, dropping him to his knees and causing him to release his blade. Carla kicked the weapon onto the train tracks and stared at her opponent with a grizzly bear’s hunger. She even took her gasmask off and revealed her mouth to be an ugly contraption filled with razor sharp teeth and bloody red lips.

Gayle’s eyes shot up in horror at she watched her boss lick her top teeth with disgusting sexuality. Scott’s girlfriend crawled over to the edge of the platform and vomited stomach acid onto the train tracks.

“You have every disease on the fucking planet and you’re suddenly disgusted by what my mouth looks like. What about what YOUR mouth looks like, bitch?!” shouted Carla, earning her a punch to the gut and a clenched-teeth expression from Scott. The rock hard fist sank into her big belly like her body was made of quicksand. The wide-eyed Scott even struggled to pull his hand out, even grabbing his own wrist with his free hand.

“Pathetic! That’s all you soldier boys are!” taunted Carla as she popped Scott’s hand out of her belly and spin kicked him in the chest, sending the “soldier boy” flying backwards several feet and rolling on the ground. The demonic pimp squeezed her own breasts in violent anticipation while Scott was lying on his back hacking and wheezing.

Gayle crawled over to Scott and wrapped his huge arm around her shoulders in an attempt to get him to his feet. Even with Scott’s cooperation, lifting him was like trying to lift a small car. He continued to inhale deep, raspy puffs of oxygen, but dropped down to one knee. “Come on, Scott, get up! Please! Help me!” shouted Gayle.

The words of encouragement filled Scott’s mind with fire and fury. Even with his lungs burning and his chest stinging, he got up on his feet, looked his girlfriend in the eyes, and said, “I love you so much right now.” And then he heard a whirling noise and felt a hot blast of energy seer through his shoulder. He screamed in horrific pain as his left arm limply fell to the ground in a splash of blood, no longer attached to his already pain-wracked body. Scott got down on one knee again and clutched his shoulder, squealing through gritted teeth and tightened eyelids. Gayle screamed along with him and hugged his neck tightly.

“Enough of this shit!” shouted Carla, immediately gaining the silent attention of Gayle while Scott continued to cry out in agony. From where she was standing, it appeared the pimp threw her energy blade at her opponent. She confirmed this when she pointed her sausage finger at the hilt of her blade, which was halfway across the platform. “You’ve seen how much of a protective boyfriend your so-called man can be. How protective is he going to be with just one arm? How is he going to earn you the kind of money you made while working with me, Gayle? Is he going to be a circus freak? Is that how he’ll earn his money?”

Carla breathed like a wild beast while Gayle slowly backed away from her. The heavyset pimp approached her like a lion getting ready to feast. She kicked Scott in his shoulder hole along the way, causing the battle born soldier to roll around and scream even louder. Carla smiled viciously and said, “Gayle, give me my energy blade and all will be forgiven. You can come back to work anytime you want. I’ll even give you some…extra shifts!” Gayle attempted a fierce glare at her boss, but could only muster more sorrow. “Give it to me, Gayle! Give me the goddamn blade!”

This was Gayle Rodriguez’s chance to see the writing on the wall. She could side with her armless boyfriend and potentially live on the streets or continue having sex for money and live comfortably. Scott was a gentleman and the ultimate romantic lover. There was nothing romantic about what Gayle did for her paychecks. But big paychecks they were, so big that she could be in line for a promotion. Plus, how could she look Scott in the face after everything she did while he was away? Paycheck or not, it was wrong. Dead wrong.

With shaky legs and arms, Gayle got down on one knee and struggled to keep the energy blade in a firm grasp. Carla motioned for her to toss it with a wave of her hand. The prostitute steadied herself and once again tried to form a strong glare. All she did was shake some more. Her insides felt like they were being ground up into meat. With one girly throw, she tossed the hilt of the energy blade.

Carla reached up to grab it, but the hilt sailed over her head and into the one arm of Scott Percival, who ejected the red energy and slashed the pimp’s throat in one quick motion. Blood and organs flowed heavily from Carla’s big neck as she dropped to the ground and soaked the platform with her life juices. She tried to curse at her former charge, but all that would come out was a waterfall of blood. Once she landed on the floor chest first, the final tidal wave of blood splashed onto the train tracks below. One final twitch of her fat pinky and that was all she wrote.

Scott tossed the blade aside and looked tearfully into his girlfriend’s eyes. She looked back at him with that same ghostly expression before running up to him in high heeled shoes and hugging her one-armed man tightly while showering his face with kisses. “I’m so sorry, Scott! I didn’t mean for things to turn out this way! Please forgive me!” she begged.

Even with one arm, Scott’s hug felt warm and protective, like a romantic shield. “I’ll never let anything bad happen to you again, Gayle. I’ll find a way to make money. And when I do, we’re going to have that family we’ve always wanted.”

“I love you, Scott!”

“I love you too, baby girl. Let’s get the fuck out of this dump.”