It Was All an Adventure to You

 “He’s right this way, Princess. Watch your step. He’s been lying here all day, it seems.”

Princess Marle knew who that male pronoun was meant for, but she didn’t want to say it out loud. She didn’t want his name associated with the grape-scented wine wafting through the forest. She intentionally slowed down, not because she didn’t want to step on her royal white dress, but to prolong the answer. She could have moved at a snail’s pace despite the urgency of her squad of knights, but this part of her future was inevitable. As a former time traveler, she knew something about grim futures.

The knight captain raised a branch so that Marle could pass through. Some of the leaves got in her otherwise perfect blond hair, but hers wasn’t anywhere near as bad as the young boy lying against the trees in front of her. Defeated, drunk, disheveled, and demonized. Four D’s, one shell of a former human being. It was indeed Marle’s ex-husband Crono, his eyes glazed over, his clothes a stained mess, his spiky red hair even messier than usual. All life had left his once bright eyes, numbed by the genie lamp-like bottle dangling in his right hand.

With her knights firmly behind her, Marle tiptoed toward her ex and took a whiff of the offensive air that poisoned not just the forest, but an entire human body. “Did you bathe in Genie’s Delight, Crono?” No answer, just drool, tears, and snot. Marle yanked the bottle out of his hand and sarcastically took a sip. “Mmm! You have fine tastes…despite the fact that you’re not even old enough to drink alcohol. Still…you have very nice tastes.”

Marle threw the lamp-like bottle against a nearby stump, the shattering noise jostling Crono around a little bit, the only sign of life he was capable of showing. Not even his ex-wife’s scowling contempt was enough to wake him up from this depressive stupor. “Arrest him.”

“It was all an adventure to you…”

The knights couldn’t proceed any further as Marle held out her arms like a barricade, wanting to give her ex-husband a chance to speak his mind…or whatever was left of it. “Come again?”

Crono spit a wad of blood onto a nearby patch of grass, as if that would be more effective at deforesting this area than his alcoholic miasma. “Time travel is supposed to be fun, right? We were all having a good time going through all those worlds…all those dinosaurs…all those dragons…all those bony old men looking for something to eat in a fucking factory…” He spat again. “I’m glad you had a good time, Marle. I’m happy all those lighting bolts and fire bombs didn’t scar you in the least. I was worried being in constant battle would take its toll on all of us…” He hiccupped.

“Crono…let me make something perfectly clear. Those battles were not my idea of fun. Nobody was having fun. We fought all of those monsters because it was necessary. We saved the world. Isn’t that something to be proud of? Isn’t that something you want to be remembered for?”

Crono burped.

“Answer me!” Marle’s arms folded like she was ready to make her final judgment upon this poor bastard in front of her.

Crono burped again. “I’m sure it’d be nice to be remembered as a savior. But that’s not how I remember it. All I remember was being burned alive and slashed to pieces.” Tears welled up in his eyes, much to the dismay of his ex-wife. “I died, Marle! I literally died! And before that I almost had my head chopped off by your kingdom! They were going to give me the guillotine for a fake kidnapping charge! The guillotine! To a little boy! That’s all that capital punishment is, really: state-sanctioned murder.”

Marle calmed down somewhat. “I agree.”

“I don’t,” said the knight captain, who earned himself a slap on the arm from her highness.

“You were cleared of all charges, Crono.”

“Tell that to the townsfolk. You think I don’t hear them talking? They still think I kidnapped you. They don’t buy that time portal explanation. Nobody does.” He pointed at an empty field. “Even that guy won’t stop talking about it. He wants me dead, just like everyone else.”

“Crono, who are you pointing at? There’s nobody there.” The weight of what Marle just said caused her to suck in a deep breath. Almost holding her hand to her mouth, she whimpered, “Are you delusional? Are you…hearing voices?” Her only answer came in the form of a weak shrug. “Is that why you drink so much?” He nodded. “You ruined our marriage over a few bottles of wine for this? Crono, why didn’t you tell me?”

He laughed like the madman he was becoming. “How am I supposed to bring that up in conversation? Oh, honey, these mashed potatoes are delicious! By the way, I’m hearing things that aren’t there! Your knights would have given me the guillotine just for that. I guess there’s no better way to relieve head trauma, am I right?” He chuckled at his own form of gallows humor.

Marle’s breathing became more erratic and jittery as she fought back tears that she never wanted her loyal knights to see. “Crono, if you would have told me, I wouldn’t have judged you for it. I would have helped you through it. We all would have.”

“I wouldn’t have,” said the knight captain.

“SHUT UP!” yelled Marle, an order that was quickly obeyed. “Crono…we married each other…we shared moments…and you threw it all away with that disgusting wine! You could have told me what was going on!”

“Not even your healing magic would have done me any favors, Marle!” Crono snapped back. “You want to help me? Reach inside my head, pull the demons out one-by-one, and throw them away for good! Can you do that? Can anybody do that?!”

“…No…I can’t…” Marle’s tears were slowly eroding away her royal toughness.

“Look…if you’re going to arrest me, then do it already. I’m beyond help at this point. Those combat memories won’t go away on their own. Those chatty bastards won’t stop spreading rumors about me. And I’ll never get the taste of Genie’s Delight out of my mouth. Ah, who am I kidding? Everything tastes like blood nowadays. I’ve been stabbed so many times that I can taste it every day. I’ve been burned so many times that it tastes like crispy black scabs. Just arrest me or kill me, okay? I don’t care what you choose, just do something.”

Marle wiped her eyes on her arm glove before using her arm like a barricade once more to stop the knight captain from arresting Crono. “I’ll handle this. Take the rest of the day off, Captain. You’ve done enough.”

“But Princess, I…”

She lifted a finger to her lips. “Not. Another. Word. Let me handle this. Go.”

The knights hesitated for a while before marching back to the castle, leaving Marle to wrap Crono’s arm around her back and hoist him to his feet. His dizzy equilibrium made him harder to carry, but she was still willing to do it. He was so slippery that she just decided to carry him baby style in her arms. He seemed comfortable in that position from how easily he closed his puffy eyes. Marle didn’t even have to struggle that much to hold him, suggesting to her that he hadn’t had much food to go with his copious amounts of alcohol.

Marle carried the remains of her ex-husband through the dark forest, the one where they used to “level up”. The one where they escaped from the castle guards by traveling to the future, the future of broken down factories, skinny survivors, constant hunger, and dark skies. Maybe there was some validity to Crono’s trauma.

She carried him like the mother she originally wanted to be. She climbed many castle stairs, receiving dirty looks from the guards along the way. She didn’t care. She climbed more stairs. And more. And more. And then she introduced Crono to a room he thought he hadn’t seen before. “This doesn’t look like a drunk tank…”

“That’s because it isn’t. It’s our old bedroom. The bed is a lot softer here than in a drunk tank.”

A little bit of life returned to Crono’s eyes as he looked around the old bedroom he shared with his now ex-wife. Marle took it in as well. The stained glass windows, the bookcase full of knowledge and wisdom, the beautiful artwork that was a mirror image of the battles they fought together, and more importantly, the bed that felt like laying on a cloud of vanilla ice cream.

“I think you’d be more comfortable with your shirt off.” Sure enough, Marle stood him up and removed his wine-scented tunic, revealing visible ribs underneath. She elected to leave everything else on his body in order to keep it PG. She hobbled him over to the bed and laid him down on his stomach, face first into the silky eiderdown pillow. He was asleep almost instantly, snoring like a coffee grinder and snorting like a pig.

Marle gazed down upon her once beloved with watery eyes. She threatened him with arrest back in the forest, but she knew in her heart she could never carry out such an order. He was so irresponsible, but he was also hurting. She couldn’t leave someone like that alone in the forest at the mercy of conservative knights. He looked almost as pained as the starving twigs from the future. He looked like a corpse ready for his permanent dirt nap. He was drunk out of his mind, yet he clung to life all the same. She knew he wasn’t ready to surrender.

Knowing full well he was knocked out from the drunkenness, Marle climbed on Crono’s back and gave him a massage anyways. She didn’t want to squeeze too hard out of consideration for his visible bones, but she squeezed just enough to hopefully put some better memories in his traumatic nightmares. If the gentle touches weren’t enough, she leaned into his ear and whispered something she wanted to say, but couldn’t get through to him during their crumbling marriage: “Crono…I never stopped loving you!”

"Siren Slave" by Aurora Styles

BOOK TITLE: Siren Slave

AUTHOR: Aurora Styles

YEAR: 2014

GENRE: Fiction

SUBGENRE: Erotic Fantasy

GRADE: Pass

Princess Freya masquerades as a loyalist of Roman culture while simultaneously feeding their military secrets to a band of pirate rebels led by Siegfried the Fox, whom she has a massive crush on. She also discovers herself to be a fey creature with magical powers that will help her in her quest. But without full knowledge of how to use those powers, she succumbs to kidnapping at the hands of druid assassins and needs to be rescued by Siegfried. Soon after, the two of them form a master/slave relationship that angers every close-minded conformist who can’t understand BDSM culture. Even Siegfried has doubts from time to time, but he’s determined to do everything in his power to make this relationship work. Freya is determined as well; it was her idea, after all.

Because this book falls under the erotica section, there’s an obligation to deliver when it comes to sexy scenes. While I won’t say exactly what these scenes entail, I will tell you that your wildest fantasies will come true whether you’re living vicariously through Siegfried or Freya. And the best part of their relationship? Despite being a master/slave dynamic, it’s actually healthier than most “normal” relationships out there. They both want this. They both hunger for this. They’re perfect for each other, which is more than I’ll ever say about the Christian Greys and Anastasia Steeles of the erotica genre. The sex can seem a little rough at times, but it’s rough in a good way and not in an uncomfortably cringey way. Aurora Styles knows her stuff!

You know what else she knows all about? Creating a likeable protagonist in the form of Freya. Her knack for puns, alliteration, and snappy one-liners make her dialogue a joy to read. She’s not quirky for the sake of being quirky; her humor is authentic. Any man would be lucky to have her company, let alone Siegfried the Fox. But if you think sober Freya is a lot of fun to be around, try getting her drunk on blueberry ale or white wine. Or better yet, give her one of Hedwig’s not-so-carefully concocted potions. Yes, Freya is clumsy and silly, but those flaws don’t detract from her being a likeable character. As a writer myself, I envy Aurora Styles’s ability to pull that off.

Last thing I want to touch on is the creatively-woven fantasy elements this story has. Freya discovers her ability to turn into a dragon/swan/mermaid and that alone is impressive. She’s also nifty with a trident and she can manipulate blood. These abilities don’t make her a Mary-Sue, though, because she’s just as vulnerable as any other character in the story. Plus, she struggles to master these powers completely, especially when each villain is more difficult to fight than the last. But not to worry, because Hedwig the Sea Witch has her potions and seductive magic, Siegfried has his stag transformation and magical panpipes, Hecate and Balor have their own demonic powers, and Woden…well, he’s just a muscle-bound stud with a massive spear and no need to wear anything but a loincloth in freezing weather. All of these characters round each other out with their powers and their unique personalities.

While there are some typos scattered here and there and the mythology is hard to keep track of at times, Siren Slave was an enjoyable read from start to finish. It’s a thick book with long chapters, but they go by so fast because of how easy it is to get lost in the action, violent, dramatic, and sexual. Aurora Styles will get a passing grade for her efforts. This book definitely took a lot of hard work and she should be rewarded for that. Congratulations on the four out of five stars! Don’t let the haters get you down!

"Tantalizing Tales of the Horrific and Fantastic" by Marie Krepps

BOOK TITLE: Tantalizing Tales of the Horrific and Fantastic

AUTHOR: Marie Krepps

YEAR: 2018

GENRE: Fictional Short Stories

SUBGENRE: Science Fiction, Fantasy, and Horror

GRADE: Pass

Marie Krepps has written a lot of short stories over the years and now they’re conveniently collected in this omnibus for your enjoyment. Whether you want sci-fi action, terrifying horror, heartfelt drama, or bloody violence, you will get what you came for when you pick up this amazing collection of stories. Once she has your attention, she won’t let go until you’re jolly-well finished with this one hundred plus page book.

Of all the stories in this collection, my absolute favorite would have to be Coffins, a graphically violent horror story about a teenage undertaker named Pablo who dismantles dead bodies after using them to smuggle contraband across the Mexican border. This whole story is basically a clinic on showing instead of telling and Ms. Krepps has every right in the world to show off her skills. The supporting character, a gangster named Mick, gets so ill watching Pablo do his work that there has to be multiple creative ways to describe said sickness, whether it’s his body language, his face changing colors, or the good old fashioned loss of lunch. Take notes, fellow indie authors. Professor Krepps’s class is now in session!

My other favorite story would have to be Too Late, which is a picture-perfect deconstruction of romances being rainbows and unicorns. In this story, a highly-trained soldier named Sarah must rescue her ex-boyfriend Jonas from an old neighborhood suffering through a horrific sandstorm. Their relationship was never going to work because Sarah is too battle-hardened and Jonas is too pacifistic. But even so, Sarah uses the memories of their romance to bring herself comfort on this dangerous mission. Ms. Krepps reinforces the idea that you can still care for someone long after the relationship is over. Being able to get along is a powerful thing that we don’t see too often among broken up couples. This brings me hope. Lots of hope!

And of course, if you’re looking for a revenge tale bathed in bitter blood, look no further than Sister Princess. It’s a medieval fantasy about two princesses, Greta and Angela, who compete for their father’s affection and throne as he’s getting ready to pass to the other side. While Angela is unwanted, lonely, and depressed, Greta is pretty, pompous, and arrogant. It’s pretty clear throughout the story who you’ll be rooting for to get the final nail in the coffin. Revenge will taste sweeter than an Oreo milkshake. Savor the flavor of delicious blood. It’s all yours! Cue the evil laughter.

My complaints about this short story collection are minimal at best. There are just a few typographical errors here and there. Some of the dialogue in Mason’s Promise is a little too Shakespearean for me to take seriously, especially when Celeste says that her arm was gnarled “lustily”. But it’s nothing an extra round of beta-reading can’t fix. The collection overall is fun to read and it’s another shining example of a struggling indie author making her dreams come true. If you look up to her and pay attention to what she says, your dreams will come true as well. A passing grade will go to this wonderful omnibus of short stories.

Dreams

DIALOGUE 1
Adult: What do you want to do when you grow up?

Kid 1: I want to flip hamburgers!

Kid 2: I want to clean toilets!

Kid 3: I want to bag groceries!

VERSE 1

How can you dream big when you can’t fall asleep?

When there’s no liquor bottle that’s too deep?

No excitement in this world that’s too cheap?

No friendship in this life that you can keep?

Do you even know what your biggest dreams are?

A white picket fence, a family, and a sports car?

Or is it just surviving yet another dark day?

No rainbows today, but there’s plenty of rain

DIALOGUE 2
Adult: What do you want to do when you grow up?

Kid 1: I want to panhandle!

Kid 2: I want to stay in bed!

Kid 3: I want to sell drugs!

VERSE 2

Being an astronaut is easy when you’re a child

To be a dreamer is to let your mind go wild

Being a princess is what you’ve always believed

When you grow the fuck up, you’ve been deceived

Being on the big screen is a Hollywood trip away

As long as you take the director’s dick and play

Low expectations are the new Disneyland

Peter Pan isn’t going to hold you by the hand

DIALOGUE 3

Adult: What do you want to do when you grow up?

Kid 1: I want to jump off a cliff!

Kid 2: I want to swallow a bunch of pills!

Kid 3: I want to put a gun to my head!

VERSE 3

Is this depressing shit making you want to cry?

Or do you dare to spread your wings and fly?

Fly around the world? Fly into outer space?

Fly off a building, splat all over the place?

Find out whoever took away your dreams

Hold him hostage, make him feel your screams

Tell him over and over how he fucked you bad

Laugh in his face like you’re fucking mad!

DIALOGUE 4

Adult: What do you want to do when you grow up?

Teenager: I’ll do whatever the fuck I want, you shallow prick! Resist, motherfuckers!

Demon Axe, Chapter 21

Arthur Triscloud stared at Raven and Shawn with intense neon fury, his sword gripped tightly by his side, his other hand stretched out like a monster’s claw. His daughter and her cop friend held their ground with their own weapons in hand, though they secretly hoped they wouldn’t need them in this unnecessary battle of family bloodlines. The elf princess and the cop nodded at each other and made a mad scramble towards the once noble king.

Arthur held them back with quick and technical swings of his sword, but Raven swung back even harder in an attempt to knock the weapon out of her father’s hands. Shawn tried circling around his opponent, but he was met with wild slashes as well, which he barely dodged. The only thing Mr. Triscloud managed to hit was a piece of Shawn’s black T-shirt. A conservative amount of blood trickled down, but the hardnosed detective brushed it off all the same.

Raven tried to enter her father’s range with more aggressive swings of her blade, but her weapon was chopped in two by the king’s mighty sword. The zombie-like warrior held his blade against his daughter’s throat with her hands high in the air. Shawn ran in from behind and bear hugged Arthur around the middle of his arms.

“Get the crown! Get it off his head!” shouted Shawn, who was being tossed from side to side by Arthur’s thrashing. Raven rushed up to her father with her chopped up blade in hand in an attempt to pry the thorns loose. After one lethal spin from the monstrous king, both of his assailants were chucked through the air and down the steep hill. The two of them lost their weapons along the violent roll down, which left them with bumps and cuts everywhere. They didn’t stop rolling until they were halfway down the hill, where the animal skeletons halted their momentum.

The two fighters felt sore enough to barely move after such a rough tumble. Shawn slowly reached for his shotgun, his lack of speed the result of not wanting to aggravate his injuries. He had his fingers on the barrel when Arthur appeared out of nowhere and stomped on Shawn’s hand, creating a cluster-fuck of popping sounds and getting a painful cry out of the detective’s voice.

Arthur picked up the shotgun and aimed it at the fallen cop, still with his foot on Shawn’s hand. A resounding pump-action later and Raven yelled, “Stop! Stop it, Father!” The king looked at her with deadly hatred in his eyes, but she stood firm with a human arm bone in hand. “That look you’re giving me doesn’t mean shit right now! Roger Zee is out there somewhere and you’re just halting progress!”

“Progress? Progress?!” bellowed Arthur in his demonic voice. “Master Roger hates that word. It’s a word associated with fruity values. It’s a word associated with reverse discrimination. It’s a word associated with disdain for traditional beliefs. Come to think of it, I hate that word just as much as he does!”

Raven raised her bone club and threatened in a low voice, “If you hurt my friend, I swear to god, I’m going to…”

“You’re in no position to be making threats, my dear daughter!” shouted Arthur. “I am the king around here and Roger is going to be my successor! If you take another step closer, I’m going to blow this faggot’s head clean right off his shoulders! Your friend knows exactly what kind of danger he’s in. Look at him shivering like a little bitch!”

Shawn had had enough of being talked down to by a guy who was clearly brainwashed by a torture device. He wanted to restore the dignity of the Paulson City Police Department to its former glory. He wanted to be the hero that he couldn’t be to his wife and daughter. With clenched teeth and trembling muscles, Shawn whispered, “Go fuck yourself, you demagogue piece of shit!”

With one jerk of his hand, Shawn pulled King Triscloud off his feet and caused the shotgun to fire a round into the sky. Raven used this opportunity to run up to her fallen father and perform a body splash on his torso. Both Raven and Shawn pinned the corrupted politician to the ground while the former lodged the bone club into the base of the thorns. The more she pried, the louder Arthur’s screams became. Thrash around with newfound strength he might, he still couldn’t get all of that weight off of his chest and legs.

Arthur managed to free one of his legs and kick Shawn in the face hard enough to break his nose. With nobody to hold his legs and the detective grunting in hardcore pain, the king’s leg thrashing gave him more power to toss around Raven while he was on his back. And then the sound of wood snapping echoed across the Holy Mountains. As Arthur laid still and bellowed in agony, Raven jammed the bone club in further and pried even more pieces out of his head until the crown was completely broken.

With a bloody ring around his skull, Arthur’s demonic eyes slowly began losing their glow. Raven stood back with Shawn as her father made the transformation from brainwashed zombie to regal king once more. His eyes dimmed some more and he tossed and turned until he ran out of energy and passed out. His body was as limp as lifeless as any corpse found on the mountainside. For the longest few seconds, he didn’t move a muscle.

With Shawn still holding his broken nose, he and Raven approached the elven king for fear that they might have inadvertently killed him. “Come on, Dad! Breathe! Breath, goddamn it!” roared Raven with tears in her eyes. Her father still didn’t move and even more tears poured down her cheeks while Shawn used his free hand to comfort her shoulder. Another death in Roger’s long and torturous campaign of slaughter.

And just as the sun rose over the mountainside, Arthur’s fingers twitched slightly. His eyes slowly opened. He stretched out as if he had taken a long nap. Raven and Shawn pulled him up in a seated position and then the elven princess hugged her king with all the tightness and tears she could muster.

“Raven, I’m sorry for any pain I’ve caused you, my dear. I never would have dreamed of doing this to my own flesh and blood,” said Arthur in his warm and loving elderly voice. The father and daughter duo hugged it out for the longest time while Shawn stood up and watched with a smile on his face despite blood pouring down his lips. Arthur then broke the embrace and asked, “Where’s Daniel? Did Roger take him?”

“He pulled Daniel underground once the battle began,” explained Shawn. “Where the hell’s my shotgun; I want to blow this cocksucker’s head off!”

“Did you say you were looking for a cocksucker?” asked Roger, who appeared out of nowhere with a sick grin on his hideous face, his machete in one hand, and Daniel’s microphone in the other. Shawn, Raven, and Arthur gazed at the zealot with horrified eyes as he reached down and pulled Daniel out of the ground by his hair like a vegetable. “Your cocksucker is right here.”

Though still alive and breathing, Daniel was curled up in the fetal position with his shorts and underwear around his ankles and white and red fluids coming out of his mouth and anus. The once intense heavy metal singer was reduced to a thumb-sucking mess who rocked back and forth and held his broken ribs like a mother cradling a child.

While Shawn and Arthur’s eyes grew even bigger and more horrified than before, Raven had a new reason for tears to pour from her eyes like waterfalls. “What have you done to him, you monster!” she shouted at Roger before rushing up to cradle Daniel’s traumatized head in her arms.

“Nothing you wouldn’t have done on your honeymoon, sweetheart,” said Roger in a cold tone. Raven could do nothing but sob for her sodomized boyfriend and rock him back and forth like the baby he felt like being. Even Shawn and Arthur had tears in their own eyes after watching such an evil display of control.

Roger lifted his machete over his shoulders and said nonchalantly, “Well, I had my fun for the day. Should I just kill all four of you now or should I wait until your so-called friends get here, my liege? Heh, some friends they are. What kind of people leave their bestie high and dry like this? Reminds me of someone I know, someone who’s weapon of choice was the almighty Demon Axe. But hey, Daniel, don’t worry about a thing; I’m sure your old band mates forgive you, right? I bet those two blowhard wrestlers forgive you too, considering they come from an industry that just bathes in friendship and love.”

Daniel didn’t respond to these slanderous accusations. He just curled up and allowed Raven to mother him during his moment of psychological numbness and infinite terror. Right or wrong, Roger Zee made more sense to him than anybody telling him it wasn’t his fault. It was always his fault. Anybody who said differently was a bigger liar than any politician on TV.

The sun continued to peak over the horizon, but none of the four heroes felt like fun in the sun. They could do nothing but stand there and watch Roger laugh like a psychotic hyena. They could have just as easily picked a fight with the guy, but what power did they really have? They were just four guys and Roger was the ultimate fighting machine with a penchant for rape and “fun”.

By the time the sun flooded the clouds with intense color, Roger’s laughter mysteriously came to an end as he saw something in the distance. He didn’t know what it was, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t going to like it.

Demon Axe, Chapter 17

“It’s always darkest before the dawn.”

These gentle words brought a flood of light into Raven’s blacked out field of vision. She squinted so that her eyes could adjust, but they were still stinging from her battle with Roger Zee. Upon being reminded of that hideous name, she sat up with a quickness only to clutch her aching ribs and be laid back down again by powerful hands on her arms. Every part of her body felt like it was branded with a hot iron. Yet in this familiar man’s care, she remained relaxed.

Her burning eyes opened some more until the blurry shape before her straightened into focus. The long brown hair, the middle-aged face, the rock n’ roll T-shirt, they were all there. Raven couldn’t believe such gentle care came from a man whose occupation required fiery aggression. It was him alright. The man she had so many petty arguments with, yet couldn’t be without. Daniel Mercer smiled down on her with the face only a mother could love…a Mother of Dragons, that is.

“Daniel…we have to….we have to find my father…” whimpered Raven.

“I know, Raven. Trust me, I know. Shawn and I got here a little too late. I’m so sorry,” said Daniel.

With her clear vision, the elf princess gazed around the room to find she was lying on a police blanket in the back of a SWAT van. The dented shelter wasn’t pretty nor was the van mobile at all, but it was better than the battlefield of dead bodies waiting for them outside. Tears welled up in Raven’s eyes as she thought of her lost comrades.

Daniel wiped them away with the bottom of his shirt and said, “It’ll be okay. We’re going to find your father and that bastard Roger. But you need to rest for now. You were badly beaten when we found you.”

“How can I even think about resting when…?” cried Raven.

“Listen to me,” said Daniel as he held the elf’s hand in his own. “I know how much your father means to you. But if you go out and look for him in the condition you’re in, you won’t stand a chance. I know this, because I too had to stay in the hospital before I came here. That’s the reason why I was late.”

Raven’s face oozed with concern and sorrow when she asked, “Why were you in the hospital, Daniel? What did Roger do to you?”

The singer breathed a deep sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. After a few more heavy breaths, he said with trepidation, “He tortured me. I formed a new band just as I said I would…and he took all of us to a black site…he…” Daniel rubbed the sogginess out of his eyes. “He killed all of them right in front of me…and he took me to a dark room…he fucking tortured me with my own music…”

The elf princess squeezed Daniel’s hand in sympathy while using her other hand to brush his long locks. “That’s awful…He’s a goddamn monster!”

“For a while, I didn’t think I could ever be interested in metal music again. I thought my dream was over. The very thing that got me through life was going to be taken away from me. And then…I, uh…the place I went to in order to stop the pain…was you, Raven. I thought about how lovely you were…how much you cared…how you saved me from my own nightmares…It’s the only thing that got me through it all. If it wasn’t for those images, I probably would have…killed myself,” sobbed Daniel.

Despite having a bruised and battered body, Raven found the strength to slowly sit up and give her friend a loving hug, which he returned. They stayed locked in each other’s embrace for the longest time. Long enough to finally ignore their own pain, both physical and emotional.

“There’s something I have to tell you, Daniel. It’s about why you were chosen to take on Roger,” confessed Raven.

When the embrace was gingerly broken, the singer said, “You don’t owe me an explanation. I know what I must do and why I should do it.”

“No, you don’t understand. It’s deeper than that, Daniel. Please, let me explain,” said Raven as she laid back down on the blanket. “My father has been around for many generations. He doesn’t have much longer to live. For a while we’ve been looking around scouting for a new king to rule over the elves. My father chose you, Daniel. He’s been watching you for a long time. He knows how passionate you can be. He knows where your morals lie. He believes in you.”

Daniel’s expression softened when he said, “But…I don’t know how to be a leader, Raven. I don’t know anything about being a politician. I led two heavy metal bands and all members of both bands are fucking dead. They’re dead because of me.”

“You don’t actually believe that, do you?” asked Raven. “What did I teach you when I showed you the EMDR technique at the arena? Besides, I’m not much of a leader either as you can tell from the dead bodies outside. But if we’re judging our leadership skills based on another asshole’s actions, then you are really the only option we have. How is this any different from the politics of your human world?”

“Gee, thanks, Raven,” said Daniel with a light chuckle. Raven giggled as well. “But if we can be serious for a moment, what do I have to offer the elves if I can’t even handle my own goddamn life?”

“You have something that Roger hates with all of his might. You have creativity. You have music. You have a soul. A good soul, at that. Elves are passionate about the arts as you can tell from the lovely shapes of our buildings…before they were destroyed of course. Elves especially love music. That microphone we gave you is imbued with the souls of lost musicians. Every time you scream into the mouthpiece, you’re channeling their energy into every word you speak. When you sang that line about darkness before dawn, you made me believe in myself again. That’s how powerful your words really are. That’s why you must be next in line for the elven throne.”

Daniel hung his head in contemplation while petting Raven’s arm. The weight of the elven world rested on his shoulders, but he was determined to carry it with a titan’s strength. He lifted his head up to give an answer and a tiny smile was etched on his face. “If I become king of the elves…does that make you my queen?”

Raven threw her head back and giggled lightly enough to not aggravate her injuries. She thought it was just a joke, but when the laughter ceased, she saw the passion in Daniel’s eyes that King Arthur Triscloud himself boasted about. That was the look of someone with a purpose. That was the look of a hero. He knew he couldn’t rule this kingdom alone. He also knew he couldn’t live this life alone. He’d done the latter for so long throughout this campaign.

“Oh, Daniel…” whispered Raven as the two of them leaned in for a passionate kiss. As they brushed lips together and wrestled tongues, every ounce of energy they held back before came rushing into this loving moment. They spent so long denying each other and bickering senselessly. Neither of them wanted to give into each other until this private moment together. They kissed deeply, hugged tightly, and brushed each other’s hair wildly.

They were jerked away from their sexy moment when the back door of the van flung open and Shawn Henry stood there wide-eyed and with healing herbs in hand. He awkwardly said, “I found the medical supplies from the castle….in case you’re interested.”

“Um…yes, uh…of course we’re interested, Shawn. Thank you,” stammered Daniel as he crawled off of Raven and snatched the leaves out of the detective’s hands. He turned back to the wounded elf and said, “These, uh…these will help you recover, and…”

“We’ve used those before, Daniel. I know how they work,” said Raven.

The Lord of the Pit shakily crawled back to Raven and began applying the healing leaves and medical acid. He tried to be as nonchalant as possible when he said to Shawn, “You can leave now. I’ve got it from here.”

“Try not to have too much fun in there,” said Shawn with a smart-ass grin as he shut the van door.

Daniel smiled himself and said, “Well, that right there is what I like to call reverse Viagra.”

“You humans and your boner pills,” giggled Raven before she clutched her ribs in pain. “Hurry up and put that stuff on me, I’m hurting like hell!”

“Yes, Princess, I mean, Queen Triscloud!”

Demon Axe, Chapter 16

Any dumb fuck could make the excuse that the Paulson City Police were just doing what they were told for the sake of their families. The news anchors could sanitize their sins with Lysol until the end of time. But what about those in uniform who actually bought into Roger Zee’s twisted logic? Like a certain orange politician, Roger Zee’s actions and words gave permission to commit violence in the name of the “greater good”. The corrupt cops who felt empowered by this dangerous thinking were the ones driving tanks and hummers through the elven world.

Gigantic tanks crushing innocent street dwellers underneath their bladed wheels. Cannons blasting buildings until they crumbled to the ground. Hummers with machineguns mounted on them unloading a blizzard of bullets upon elves who tried to run and hide. After hundreds of years of the elves rebuilding their homeland, it once again resembled an apocalyptic scenario. Rubble scattered all over the pavement. Broken and twisted elf corpses strewn across the road with their blood running down the sewer drains. Screams and cries of those who were barely surviving pierced the ears, but not the hearts of their human rivals. Mothers huddling with their children behind piles of broken buildings.

The war machines were tromping their way across the wreckage and bloodied bodies with the intention of storming King Arthur Triscloud’s castle. The finest of elven architecture was ready to be violated with fiery cannonballs and armor-piercing bullets the size of crowbars. As more women and children gathered around the castle to shed their tears, their sorrows were met with laughter and mockery from the cops who were itching to settle the score between man and elf.

“This is not your land!” shouted a familiar female voice, putting an end to the hyena laughter. With rows upon rows of elven soldiers with swords marching behind her, Princess Raven Triscloud pointed her own blade at her world’s attackers while giving an oratory worthy of a certain Lord’s heavy metal performance.

With muscles twitching and raw anger in her voice, Raven shouted, “Whatever fake reminiscence Roger Zee is feeding you, it will be your downfall! Up until this moment, my elven race has never been a threat to human democracy! We just wanted to live peacefully and rebuild what your people have taken down with brute force! Anybody who says otherwise is dabbling in revisionist history! Your news anchors and your politicians have built the human empire on fear! You want something to be afraid of?! I’ll give it to you! Charge!”

The elven soldiers led by Raven rushed into battle with swords and shields raised while the human forces readied their machineguns and tank cannons. They unleashed a tidal wave of bullets across the elven warriors, but the indigenous race’s oversized shields deflected the ammunition off to the sides, where they bounced off rubble piles with audible pings. The elves stayed light on their feet as they dodged and weaved out of range of the cops’ high velocity cannons.

As soon as Raven and her soldiers bolted within range, the massive slaughter became a melee between swords and batons. Elves jammed elongated blades through their opponents’ black hearts and chopped off limbs, causing the human forces to bleed buckets all over the broken city streets. Likewise, cops rained down heavy clubs across the elves’ skulls until the fantasy race’s brains were splashed off the concrete.

Raven, being the most skilled fighter of her army, ran around to various human soldiers and slashed their throats, gutted their stomachs, and chopped off heads. She was often ganged up on by three, four, or five cops at a time, but for every baton strike, she rolled and flipped out of the way. While she was on the ground, she threw a circular slash and chopped off her opponents’ feet, causing them to scream like children and cuss like sailors as they bled profusely.

And then Raven noticed out of the corner of her eye that a tank cannon was aiming right for her. “Shit!” she yelled before cart-wheeling out of range. The cannon fired and blew concrete shrapnel all over her friends, making them easier targets for baton beatings over the head and across the ribs. At the threat of another cannon blast, Raven backed up into an alleyway to avoid more shrapnel. She needed time to rethink her strategy, but her friends were dying out there. “If only there was some way to disable those tanks,” she said to herself.

“I wouldn’t count on it if I was you,” said a haunting elf voice. Raven gasped and slowly turned around to face her new opponent. Out of the shadows came Roger Zee with his machete in hand and a shit-eating grin across his ugly face. “Haven’t you gotten tired of watching your loved ones die? Daniel Mercer certainly has. So much so that I doubt he’ll want to interfere in elf politics ever again,” mocked Roger.

“You bastard!” shouted Raven before engaging the terrorist in hand-to-hand combat. The two elves clanged and banged swords with enough volume to drown out the sounds of war going on in the background. They even managed to make dents in each other’s blades, though Raven’s were much deeper and nastier than Roger’s. The terrorist went for a slash to the throat only for Raven to duck underneath and bull rush her opponent against a brick wall.

Holding the blade to Roger’s neck, Raven angrily whispered, “You are a disgrace to your people, Roger. I’m going to enjoy taking your fucking head off!” She would have if a cannon blast didn’t take a chunk out of a nearby building and rock her off balance. Roger threw a palm strike to Raven’s gut and kicked her in the face, flipping her in the air and causing her to land on her chest. She spit out blood and nursed her numb face.

Roger arrogantly whistled as he picked up his machete and danced like a fruitcake to his fallen opponent. Raven slowly made it to her hands and knees, but Roger held the blade to the back of her neck and said, “Revisionist history my ass, Raven! The only traitor to the crown I see around here is your deadbeat father!”

The insult pumped adrenaline through Raven’s system as she grabbed Roger’s feet and pulled him to the ground, making him drop his weapon. Raven took this time to stagger to her feet while Roger nipped up like an athlete. From that point it was martial arts warfare. The female warrior threw punches and kicks around the head and ribs of her opponent, all of those attacks being blocked or dodged by Roger. The zealot grabbed one of Raven’s punches and squeezed on her wrist so tightly that she crumbled to her knees. He said, “That dig about your father? That wasn’t an alternative fact. It was a hard fact!”

Raven threw another punch, but Roger caught that one as well before throwing her overhead and slamming her on her back. From there the former Order of the Spider soldier dropped repeated elbows on her chest and ribs, causing her to cough up even more blood than before. She tried throwing her legs up to back him off, but she was so weak that it resembled drunken choreography.

Roger knelt down and held his blade to Raven’s throat, to which she said, “Go ahead! Finish me off! I’d rather die than live your dystopia!”

The terrorist chuckled, “As much as I’d love to finish you off right now, there’s a war going on around us in case you hadn’t noticed.” To prove his point, another chunk of rubble flew across the battlefield, dusting Raven and Roger with large pebbles. Roger stood up, grinned, and said, “Besides, you’re not the one that I came here for. Any minute now…”

“You scoundrel!” shouted an elderly male voice. Raven’s puffy vision was able to make out the features of her father as he dashed into battle and threw wild slashes at Roger. The terrorist dodged each slash with athletic grace before kneeing the king in the stomach and hoisting Arthur on his shoulder.

“Put him down!” demanded Raven as she coughed up more blood. Her rage fell on deaf ears as Roger retreated from the bloody battle going on around them. The Princess held out her hand in a weak attempt to save her father, but after a short while of seeing his pained face, Roger took him away into the violent morning.

Tears built up in Raven’s swelling eyes, but she had no outlet for her sorrow other than beating the ground with her aching fists. She tried getting up, but the pain surged through her bones and watered her down to a crawl across the concrete. She pulled with the last of her remaining strength and then closed her eyes in defeat. The human and elven worlds belonged to Roger Zee.

Her dreams, however, belonged only to her. As the sounds of battle were dying all around her, she envisioned Daniel Mercer with his magical microphone serenading a raucous crowd. He had his skeleton makeup on and everything. He even played with his former band mates: Vulture Man on guitars, Pig Man on bass, and G-Pac on drums.

Even though Daniel was screaming angry lyrics, he seemed happy and loved in a place like this. This was his natural habitat and Roger would never be able to take that away from him no matter how much land he ruled over. Raven would have smiled at this moment, but her mouth was bloody and it hurt to do so. “Find me, Daniel,” she whispered. “Find me again.”

"Box of Chocolates" by Marie Krepps

BOOK TITLE: Box of Chocolates
AUTHOR: Marie Krepps
YEAR: 2015
GENRE: Fictional Short Stories
SUBGENRE: Sci-Fi, Fantasy, and Horror
GRADE: Pass


In the immortal words of Forrest Gump, “Life is like a box of chocolates: you never know what you’re going to get.” In the case of Marie Krepps’ short story collection, you won’t know until the end of each chapter if the chocolates are nutty, creamy, glazed over, bittersweet, or just plain delicious. There might be a few chocolates in this box that are laced with LSD, the stories are so crazy and colorful. Once you’ve finished your chocolaty snack, you will feel delightfully full and pleasantly satisfied. Try getting all of this with just a Hershey’s bar.

The thing about this collection of stories is that your opinions and emotions will vary wildly as you blow through the book. Sometimes you’ll feel like crying your eyes out. Sometimes you’ll feel giddy with delight. And then there are those times when you’re scratching your head. In other words, if someone were to ask you what your favorite stories from this book are, you wouldn’t have to think very hard in order to come up with a decent answer.

For me personally, I had several favorites from this book. I enjoyed the playful antics of Ben (the wolf) and Paca (the panther) from “The Refugees”, because they remind me in some ways of my own crazy animal family. I did a little victory lap after watching Angela get revenge against her bitchy older sister in “Sister Princess”. “Waiting for the Darkness”, however, is one that really hit close to home for me since I too was depressed and angry during my college days, so I know Enid’s struggles very well.

And then you have some stories which appear too short on the surface until you get that nice little twist ending. “Date Night” and “The Meeting” are both of examples of what I’ve just said. Deep down inside, I wish they were longer and more developed. It’s because of incomplete-feeling stories like these that I almost considered giving this book a mixed grade. But then I remembered that flash fiction is an acquired taste and as the reader gets further into the book, the taste will become familiar and delicious, just like a box of chocolates should be. I wrote flash fiction when I was younger and often struggled with it, so I can empathize with Marie on this one.

An actual box of chocolates would be good for any occasion whether it’s lovey-dovey Valentine’s Day, spooky-kooky Halloween, or jolly old Christmastime. The short story collection Marie Krepps wrote takes all three of those atmospheres and turns them into high quality flash fiction that will leave an impression on the reader for a long, long time. Death by chocolate is often the best way to go. Go on, take a bite. It’ll be delicious and orgasmic!

"Spunky and the Wizard's Chair" by Ashley and Kyra Uzzell

BOOK TITLE: Spunky and the Wizard’s Chair
AUTHORS: Ashley Uzzell and Kyra Uzzell
YEAR: 2015
GENRE: Fiction
SUBGENRE: Children’s Animal Fantasy
GRADE: Pass


Spunky is an ordinary house cat who enjoys the love and attention that his wizard master brings him. One fateful day, the wizard brings home a splintered wooden chair that is believed to have magical powers. Spunky is ordered to stay away from it, but he defies the wizard and the chair takes the little fluff-pumpkin to a strange new world ruled by other cats. Spunky is scared of his new surroundings and wants to go home. But when the beautiful princess of this kitty world is abducted by dogs, little Spunky isn’t going to let it slide that easily!

One of the many things that makes this book special is the fact that it was written by a mother and her eight-year-old daughter. Alone, their imaginations are wild and colorful. Together, they can put out a polished, cute, cuddly story about magic and purr-babies. Ashley and Kyra working together as a team to make this wonderful kid’s book brings them closer together as a family. No matter what obstacles life puts in front of them, they will always have this special book to look back upon and love every minute of. Family bonding is always important to living a healthy and happy life; never underestimate the power of love.

And then there’s the obvious elephant in the room (or rather the puppies and kitties), the book’s cuteness factor. If you’re writing a book about house pets, you’d better make it as cute and sweet as humanly possible. Ashley and Kyra did just that with their descriptions of each animal character from their bushy tails to their candy-colored fur to (my personal favorite) the princess’s “bell-like voice”. I could learn a lot from this style of writing, because it’s charming without being overly sappy. Whenever I write an animal story, I use a lot of lovey-dovey language and I can see how that would be a turn-off to my readers. So thank you, Ashley and Kyra, for teaching me a valuable lesson in writing animal fantasy fiction!

This book is the very definition of what a kid’s story should have: colorful visuals, a steady reading pace, a loving plot, and not a single ounce of mature content. I enjoyed this book so much that I plan on giving it to one of my nieces as a Christmas present this year. The book is a fun read for all ages, so if I was to give it to my eleven year old niece Reina, she probably wouldn’t feel insulted by it. I have another niece named Jayla who is five years old and she would probably love this book to pieces. So many nieces, so many choices. No matter who I choose, it will be a worthy use of my money since it’s such a lovable read. I’m purring just thinking about it!

Ashley Uzzell is already an established writer under another penname and has produced some of my favorite e-books ever written. Her future is no doubt a bright one no matter how many obstacles she has to go through in life. Kyra especially has a bright future ahead of her because she’s only eight years old and has already shown that she’s capable of putting together an awesome story. If the amount of potential this writing family had could be harnessed into green energy, the world could leave its lights on until the end of time. I give this story a passing grade and I give both authors a digital hug!

Mickey and the Giant

EPISODE TITLE: Mickey and the Giant

SHOW: Disney Cartoons

YEAR: Late 1930’s

GENRE: Children’s Cartoon

RATING: TV-G

GRADE: Pass

An oafish giant terrorizes a nameless kingdom to where a multi-mullion pazooza bounty is placed on his head. Mickey Mouse is oblivious to this news as he’s busy in his tailor’s shop mending clothes. Seven flies swarm in on him and he swats them all before proudly proclaiming to the town, “I killed seven with one blow!” The townsfolk and the king all think he’s talking about giants, so the king appoints Mickey to slay the giant and collect the bounty while also taking the hand of Princess Minnie. There’s just one problem: Mickey is microscopic compared to the giant and all he’s armed with is a pair of tailor’s scissors and a spool of thread.

When I was a tiny kid growing up in Port Townsend, Washington, my parents bought me a VHS tape of three different Mickey Mouse cartoons. Mickey and the Giant happened to be the last one on the cassette. I would watch that tape over and over again like any small child would, but I would never understand the plotline of the cartoon or any of the structural elements of Disney’s storytelling, also like a small child. I have to admit that I was a little disturbed by Mickey sewing the giant’s sleeves together and then yanking on his nose before tying him up and defeating him. As an adult, I can’t understand why that would be disturbing, but as a kid, I didn’t question my irrational emotions. Maybe it was the dramatic, fast-paced music, I don’t know.

Nonetheless, I enjoyed the hell out of that cartoon. I particularly liked the creative ways in which the giant went about his daily routine of eating, smoking, and relaxing. He relaxed by sitting on somebody’s house and crossing his legs. When he was hungry, he ate an entire wheelbarrow full of pumpkins like they were candy pieces. When he got the hiccups from Mickey yanking on his uvula, he drank an entire well full of water. And when the giant wanted a nice smoke to go with his meal, he rolled up a bale of hay like a cigar and lit it up with a kitchen stove from inside the house. Looking back now, the giant didn’t seem like a particularly cruel person. He was just a harmless fool. Unfortunately, he was too big of an inconvenience for the kingdom, so he had to be taken down. And when he was, he snored into a windmill that powered an entire amusement park. More creativity on the part of Disney.

And then there’s the favorite part of any 99-percenter looking for a hero: the underdog defeating the favorite in convincing fashion. It’s a G-rated Disney cartoon, so chances are good that the oafish giant’s opponent won’t be a juggernaut in steel armor who wields a barbed wire lance in one hand and a fiery metal staff in the other. It would be a convincing victory, but it wouldn’t be particularly amazing since that outcome is to be expected from someone of such power. Mickey Mouse is not a powerful character. Compared to the giant, he’s finger food. At any moment, the giant could have crushed him like a bug and that would be the end of it. Mickey wasn’t going down that easily. He used his quick wits and stealthy strategy to overcome a nearly impossible opponent. He hid in the various food, beverage, and tobacco items and when his cover was blown, he used the giant’s own momentum against him. The giant wasn’t too bright, so this ending was believable.

This cartoon was still on You Tube the last time I checked. That’s how I got reacquainted with it in the first place. If you’re a big kid who wants to relive his playful days or you have a child of your own who needs entertainment, I would definitely recommend this cartoon. It’s cute, it’s creative, and it’s fun for the whole family. Enjoy!