Lovelyn LaPierre, Evil Sorceress from "The Meat Squadron"

 

Eden Hodges, Evil Witch from "Beauty and the Barbarian"

 

All Dog Punchers Go to Hell

Mary McCray glossed over her roll call sheet one more time and shook her pudgy head at some of the names on her list. At least two or three of them were cops. Four of them were multi-level sex offenders. Others were attending sensitivity classes for the very first time. But one name on this list made her chuckle in disgust: Darren Stars, a rock icon with more privilege than any of his cop classmates. “Who in the hell calls himself Darren Stars?” Mary asked herself.

Steeling her nerves for the worst, she sighed and reached high to twist the doorknob to the classroom. Some of the “students” snickered at their obvious height advantage over Mary. They also had a sizable youth advantage since Miss McCray’s wrinkly skin and wavy gray hair gave away her age. She wore a green dress with a white apron over it, like she was about to bake cookies instead of teach a sensitivity class. In order to meet her students’ gazes, she had to crawl up on the teacher’s desk and sit on the edge, swinging her oversized feet as she did so.

These degenerates smiled with the kind of juvenility one would expect from a high school classroom, which was where this special training session took place. Mary checked the roll call sheet to make sure everyone was accounted for, but used it as an excuse to hide her face from these humiliating stares. Some of these men looked like they just did time in the pokey, all muscled, tattooed, and dressed in T-shirts, jeans, and sometimes tank tops.

It was Darren Stars who caught her eye (and her ire) the most. “Feet off the desk, Mr. Stars,” ordered Mary, to which the long-haired, leather jacket wearing rock star reluctantly complied.

Crossing her arms upon her lap, she was finally ready to greet these students with a stern gaze and a gruff voice. “My name is Mary McCray. I am a sensitivity counselor. You are all hardened criminals, which is why you’re here today. My job is to provide you all with the tools to do better deeds in this world. How you handle those tools is completely up to you. Some of you will succeed, most of you will end up back in prison.”

Mary pulled her thick rimmed glasses off and cleaned the lenses with her apron. “But for a small minority of you, prison was never a clear and present danger. Whether it’s because of your wealth, your celebrity status, or just the fact that you wield any kind of authority at all, your massive privilege has kept you out of trouble. But if you think your money is any good here, you’re sadly mistaken. I’m here to straighten you all out and nobody gets a free pass. Any questions?”

Darren Stars stood up and said, “Yeah, I’ve got one. How come your parents aren’t supervising you?” That earned a collective horse laugh from the rest of the classmates.

“Well, clearly your parents are even more irresponsible if they give you a goofy ass name like Darren Stars!” That earned an “ooohhh” from the crowd and the arrogant rock star sat down slowly in shame. “Actually, I’m glad you made yourself obvious, Mr. Stars, because our lesson for the day has a lot to do with why you’re here specifically. Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t you get busted at one of your shows for punching a traumatized fan’s guide dog?”

“Guide dog, my ass! That motherfucker was howling his head off while I was trying to sing a song. He was ruining a fun night of music for everyone.”

“Yes, because punching a defenseless animal is the only number one hit you can produce these days,” said Mary with a cross-armed glare. Another collective “ooo” reverberated off the classroom walls, not unlike Darren’s guitar during a show. “Personally, I would have locked you up right then and there. But since you’re such a big celebrity who needs coddling and swaddling, you ended up here instead. Well, I have just the curriculum for you and your socially elite friends.”

Mary leapt off the desk and pulled a TV remote that looked like a magic wand from her apron. With one click, a white projector screen lowered in front of the chalkboard. With another click, the lights went out. “Gentlemen…and Mr. Stars, I want you to have a look at something.”

Another click of the button projected a montage of animal cruelty onto the screen. Elephants in India were being punched repeatedly in order to get them to paint. Monkeys laid in wooden crates with shackles around their necks and ankles. A cat was being thrown into oncoming traffic down below from a highway pass. Teenagers were shooting BB guns at helpless ducks, injuring their wings and snapping their legs in half.

Mary grinned mischievously at her students as most of them shed tears over the graphic footage, but wouldn’t go into a full-on crying spell. “So…a lot of you ARE capable of having empathy for others. That’s a good sign. Channel that sadness into our lesson for the day. But first…here’s a little something for the edgy man-children in the back.”

Another click of her wand and this time footage of pit bull abuse flashed across the screen. Upper snouts were being dislodged with crowbars. Dogs fought each other and spread their guts all over a dirt floor. One precious pup was being strung up on a rope and made to exercise on a treadmill while pulling a ten pound dumbbell. Even more tears poured from the students’ eyes while some of them tried to look away from the footage.

Upon catching Darren yawning with an uncovered mouth, Mary paused the video, illuminated the room, and asked, “Am I boring you, Mr. Stars? Is this not extreme enough for your tastes?”

“Now that I think about it, Nickelback is more metal than this garbage. Fuck it, I’m out of here.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stars, but leaving is not an option!” barked Mary as her eyes and the eyes of her glaring students shined bright red. Every fiery eyeball locked upon Darren in an attempt to make the egomaniac feel somewhat smaller.

Instead he smirked and waved it all off. “I’ve had mushroom highs that were trippier than this. You ain’t fooling anybody, old lady.”

“I assure you, Mr. Stars, this is not a drug hallucination. Everything you see before you is as real as it gets. I repeat…everything you see before you!” Mary flashed an evil smile as she clicked her wand and neon-eyed warrior pit bulls leapt from the screen and growled at Darren. “Go ahead. Punch them. I dare you. If you do have the balls to do it, they’ll be quickly ripped from your pencil legs along with your thumb tack penis!”

No matter how violently the dogs barked, Darren wouldn’t budge. He laughed at them and said, “I really should get off the heroin.”

“I couldn’t agree more, Mr. Stars. Get him, my pretties. Have lunch!” bellowed Mary as the pit bulls rushed towards Darren and chewed on his flesh.

What happened to the rock star was not a trippy dream, but a waking nightmare. Mary folded her arms and grinned while the monstrous dogs chewed and clawed pieces of flesh and blood from Darren’s body. He screamed while gagging on his own life juices. He tried to throw punches and kicks to the rabid animals, but they just chewed harder and harder, as if it was their last meal before being starved to death in the dog fighting circuit. “If they send me more losers like this guy, I won’t have to ever go to PetSmart again,” Mary joked while being splashed with blood.

“Hey! What’s going on here?!” snapped an authoritative voice, prompting the magic to come to a grinding halt. The dogs disappeared in a puff of smoke, the brainwashed students had normal eyes again, but Darren was still bleeding from asshole to appetite. The voice belonged to a cop bursting into the room, a cop flanked by his uniformed partner and a chubby music executive in a fancy suit.

While the two cops held Mary at bay with their weapons, the executive rushed up to the bloody and battered Darren and said, “Oh my god…this is…I’m just…this is beautiful!”

“What?!” screeched Darren. “How is this beautiful? I’m bleeding to death because of that fucking bitch and her stupid dogs!”

“Hear me out, hear me out,” said the executive. “Rock music these days is all about blood and guts, right? Well, you’ve got the perfect imagery going on here. We can print promotional material for days, months, maybe even years. You are the quintessential badass of rock and roll with this bloody look. Let’s go back to the studio and get pictures of you. You’ll look like a million bucks on any CD cover!”

“Hold on a goddamn minute!” shouted Mary. “He’s not going anywhere until he finishes sensitivity training! He ain’t anywhere near a passing grade. I told him that celebrity privilege bullshit wasn’t going to fly here! Mr. Stars, sit back down and don’t leave the classroom until I say you can! Officers, back me up here! Tell him he’s no different from the rest!”

“…Yeah…about that…” The lead officer opened fire on the sorceress teacher and put several slugs in her head, bringing her sensitivity class and her life to a brutal end. If anybody asked, the cop could just lie his ass off and delete the contradictions in his story from his file. Mary McCray had all the magic in the world, but none of it could summon the power she needed to take on a corrupt system. Everybody had a price and everything was paid for, including a new tombstone for the dwarven teacher.

"Tales of Mentara: The Portal" by Ashley Uzzell

BOOK TITLE: Tales of Mentara: The Portal

AUTHOR: Ashley Uzzell

YEAR: 2018

GENRE: Fiction

SUBGENRE: Fantasy Adventure

GRADE: Pass

A group of middle school friends find themselves trapped on a strange new planet when the sorcerer of the team, Charlotte, accidentally opens a portal to the other realm. Learning to adapt to this new environment proves tough when homesickness, uncooperative allies, and the distrust of an indigenous tribe threaten their chances of survival. With the threat of another group of invading warriors looming, Charlotte and her friends have to act fast if they want to live to tell their amazing story. They’re only kids, but everybody grows up eventually, even if it is a rapid ascent into maturity.

The first thing I want to applaud Ms. Uzzell on is her ability to promote five different main characters without any of them getting lost in the shuffle. This novel is relatively short, so she doesn’t have a large canvas to work with, which is what makes these characters’ developments all the more amazing. Charlotte and Lena are the motherly figures of the group while Daniel and Mindy are the innocent children and Fred is the rough and tough bad boy (but only on the outside). The more you delve into this story, the more you realize that they are just kids after all and they have their moments of raw emotions and soft feelings. That’s what makes this story real to me.

It’s also refreshing to hear parts of this story told through the points of view of the indigenous tribe. Despite the language barrier and primitive lifestyle, they actually have a lot in common with the “pale-skinned” main characters. They too are just kids who want to live a normal life after the stresses of this new world break them down. This goes to show that no matter where you are in the universe, you’ll always have someone to empathize with. The more empathy you have for your fellow humans, the less likely you are to hate them. This novel could be an allegory for racial harmony if you read between the lines.

And then you have the most heartbreaking part of this story, the homesickness the lead characters feel. They’ve been gone from their home world for what seems like forever and they’ve definitely earned their right to cry because of it. Earth has things like junk food, loving people, technology, and fuzzy animals. Meanwhile, this new world is in the midst of a war brewing between the indigenous tribe and much more powerful warriors called Bomen. These kids might as well have joined the Iraq War back in 2003…at their middle school age, no less. The loss of innocence makes the homesickness even harder to emotionally process. If you want to cry too, you have my permission (not that you need it).

All in all, this is a fun little adventure that anybody can enjoy regardless of their generation. Anybody can appreciate the messages of friendship, loyalty, and staying strong through all of the hardships. While Fred and Mindy are hard to cheer for in the beginning, they become more sympathetic as the story changes who they are. As a matter of fact, everybody in this story will feel the change brewing within them by the time all is said and done. A passing grade for this wonderfully crafted story!

The Cryomancer

Olivia Snow could feel the frozen energy surging through her body. A cool breeze blew past her and little snowflakes were descending upon her. To this elf wizard dressed in black ninja gear, this form of magic was known as cryomancy. She had spent tireless years perfecting this beautiful, yet deadly art. With the eight-foot tall fat-ass obnoxious ogre standing in front of her with a bloody smile on his face, Olivia knew she had to be ready to use it at a moment’s notice.

The ogre swung its mighty club down upon Olivia, but the elf cartwheeled out of the way and allowed the heavy weapon to create a spider web crack in the stone ground. The ogre continued to swing with wild rage and unquenchable bloodlust, smashing down trees all in the name of trying to hit this swift ice maiden. She flipped and flopped away from every powerful strike.

When it was her turn to strike, she extended her fingertips and blasted the gigantic weapon with an icy mist. The weapon went from being a gigantic popsicle to diamond dust as it shattered after the ogre dropped it. The monstrous warrior flexed his muscles and roared to the sky in his loudest voice.

Olivia shook her head no at the raving beast and blasted him with a gigantic glacial spike, piercing him through his black heart. Even then the ogre was able to rip out the spike and scream in fury some more. Even though he was bleeding profusely from his chest, he yelled out, “Is that the best you’ve got, woman?! You’re a dead bitch!”

The ogre stampeded his way toward the now vulnerable cryomancer, creating impressions and craters in the ground with every thunderous step. Olivia flipped backwards onto a treetop and rained down smaller glacial spikes upon her opponent. This time he bled even more profusely and his tough guy mentality couldn’t save him from becoming a limp and lifeless corpse on the ground. Once the ogre hit the floor and his blood splattered everywhere, his body crumbled into snowflakes and the wind blew him away.

Olivia Snow sat down on the tree branch and breathed a heavy sigh of relief. She was so exhausted that she could have fallen asleep in that tree. And then the familiar pounding footsteps rang out across the forest and the elf wizard opened her dreary eyes to see at least five more of these hideous ogres lusting for her death. “You’ve got to be shitting me,” she said to herself. She even stood up on the tree branch and yelled to the sky, “Julian, what the hell is wrong with you! Give me a goddamn break!”

In a small apartment in Hollywood, California, Julian Kane took a break from writing his epic screenplay at the computer and asked, “Did that bitch really just talk to me?” He tried to shake off the tiredness in his eyes and even slapped his own face for good measure. The harder the screenwriter tried to wake up, the more he slacked backwards and snored.

After letting out a ferocious yawn, the scraggly haired and pajama-dressed Julian dragged himself out of his seat and headed toward the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. He looked blurrily at the clock on the stove and said, “No fucking way” when he realized he had been writing and editing that script from the early morning to the dark of night.

He would have gladly gone to bed if it wasn’t for the fact that this movie script was due tomorrow morning at the director’s office. Instead he made his pot of coffee like he set out to do. When he poured it in a cup and tried to drink it however, it was colder than a pint of Ben & Jerry’s. It even triggered sensitivities in his teeth. “Goddamn, man, I need to get to bed,” Julian said to himself. He absentmindedly threw the cold coffee into the sink and shattered his mug.

Mr. Kane got to his bedroom doorway and sobbed to himself when he realized he couldn’t go to bed until his movie script was finished. What broke him out of his sobbing spell was looking out the window and seeing a snowstorm outside. That’s right: a snowstorm in Hollywood, California in June. “What the fuck is going on here?” he said.

Julian trudged back to his computer to put the finishing touches on his masterpiece. He heard a familiar feminine voice ask him, “Do you really think pitting that many ogres against me will make me the strong feminine hero everybody wants to see? There’s a difference between paying your dues and being screwed over. Nobody will want to watch this movie.”

“Jesus, lady, what the fuck do you know about screenwriting? It’s an art form. Besides, if you beat all those ogres, I’m sure…” Julian’s dialogue was cut off by him chattering his teeth. “Goddamn, it’s cold in here.”

“Yes, Julian, I agree. I am after all a cryomancer. That is what your movie will eventually be called, right? How do you think it’s going to do at the box office if I somehow get a fluke victory in an fight a clearly can’t win? All the ice magic in the world isn’t going to save me from getting stepped on or pounded into the ground. Then again, what kind of a hero would I be if I could just the entire world’s population into ice cream sandwiches?”

Julian formed a confused look on his face and asked, “Wait a minute, why am I talking to my own character? You’re not even real. Besides, you don’t get to question me and my decision making. You’re a character. You do what you’re told and that’s it!”

One of the windows in his apartment shattered and snow began covering his carpeted floor. Julian Kane looked on with saucer-like eyes and a trembling jaw. “No! This isn’t real! There’s no such thing as cryomancy! It’s all bullshit! You hear that, Olivia? You’re no different from Pinocchio or the Three Little Pigs! You’re a cartoon and nothing more!”

His front door was the next thing to burst open and the snowstorm followed, turning the entire apartment into a winter wonderland. Standing in the doorway with glowing blue eyes, black ninja garb, and blue energy forming at her fingertips was none other than Olivia Snow. She pointed at the convulsing Julian and said, “You’re no screenwriter and you will not be the author to my pain!”

From her fingertips, she shot a tightly-packed snowball and pinged Julian in his stomach, causing him to double over and clutch his wound. Another snowball flew his direction and hit him in the shoulder. Another came and hit him in the leg. The final blow was smack dab in the middle of his forehead, which caused him to flip around and land flat on his back. His breathing was shallow and his vision was fading.

Olivia knelt down beside his victim and whispered in his ear, “You’re the hero of my screenplay now. If you can get through this, you can get through anything. So what are you going to do about all of this? Are you going to pay your dues or are you going to break like a little bitch?” The elf bit down hard on Julian’s earlobe and drew blood.

That was the sharp pain that awakened the screenwriter from his dream while hunched over his keyboard. Julian’s neck and back were sore from the awkward sleeping position and his eyes were blurry as he tried to read his computer screen. “Screw the director. I’m going to bed. This is bullshit.”

Julian stood up and fished around in his pajama pocket for his smart phone. As soon as his eyes adjusted, he speed dialed the number for his director. He wasn’t picking up, so the screenwriter left a zombie-like message. “Hey. It’s Julian Kane. Listen, I’m not going to be able to get you the script for The Cryomancer tomorrow. I’ve been exhausted lately trying to figure out my own plot holes and shit. Well, that and doing all of these media tours you keep booking me for. I’m going to bed for the evening. You’ll get your movie script in a couple of days, maybe even a week. If you don’t like the timetable, then quit exhausting the shit out of me. Bye!”

Mr. Kane tossed his smart phone on the couch and did his zombie walk back to his bedroom. He didn’t bother brushing his teeth or taking his medication. He just plopped on the bed and covered himself up.

He felt an icy hand on his shoulder and a gentle whisper in his ear from a familiar feminine voice. “You made the right decision, honey.”

“You’re damn right I did. Wait a minute, what?” said Julian as he flipped over to see who was in his bed. It was nobody. His mind was playing tricks on him again even when he agreed to go to sleep. He tiredly laughed it off and covered up his head. He snored and drooled like a tranquilized animal, though he kept wondering why his ear was scarring over and why there was blood on his pillow.

The snow continued to fall over the magical city of Hollywood. Magic? What kind of magic? It wouldn’t happen to be cryomancy, would it?

Laya Murderspell

NAME: Laya Murderspell

AGE: 28

OCCUPATION: Sorceress

CANONS: Diablo II and Zeromancer

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Audrey Chainsaw

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

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

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

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

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

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

　

***DOMESTIC DIALOGUE OF THE DAY***

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

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