Lucy the Hammer, Squadron Soldier from "Rainbow Ranch"

 

Rainbow Ranch, Chapter 5

The top octave was alive with buzzing noises that prickled Lucy’s ear hairs. Must have been another lightning spell that King Harrison was conjuring up. Must have been how this story was going to end: the same way King Harrison’s life ended before he had stolen Loki as a bodily vessel. This was Lucy the Hammer’s destiny: a half-wiener dog cooked like the piece of meat she was named after. She held her friends tightly as if her armor was enough to shield them from a visit from the Angel of Death. If they were leaving Rainbow Ranch together, they’d cross the Rainbow Bridge together. The silver lining in that cloud? They’d never have to see King Harrison again and they’d never have to fight another pointless war against forces they couldn’t understand.

 

“Out of my face, you annoying tart!” belted Harrison. The buzzing continued, but was now accompanied by sounds of heavy swatting. “Go on, get out of here! Move it!”

 

Confusion didn’t weigh on Lucy’s heart nearly as heavily as grief and despair. She welcomed the new emotion as she turned to see what was up. The buzzing was not from a new lightning spell that would send them into the nothing. It was but an amethyst-colored fly flapping its little wings around Harrison’s face, a ghost of sorts. For someone who loved animals, he was quick to annoy when the lifeforms were slightly uglier than a puppy.

 

Harrison continued to swat at the ghost fly and the “annoying tart” dodged and weaved out of the way with minimal effort. His teeth gnashed together and his fists tightened as this microscopic creature got under…whatever was left of his skin. Even when the ghost fly tried to swoop out of Ozzie’s humble abode, Harrison, visibly frustrated, floated after the little dickens and swatted some more while grumbling and groaning through his slime-covered teeth.

 

Lucy, Ozzie, Callie, and Loki looked at each other with their heads tilted in perplexity. Lucy shrugged her shoulders before the four of them leapt to their feet and pitter-pattered outside to see what was going on. Lucy’s eyes widened and her tiny jaw dropped at the sight of their saviors. “Wow…it can’t be…I don’t believe it…” she whispered.

 

On one side of the snowy hill floated the ghost of King Harrison, a disgraced politician and sorcerer who couldn’t let go of his own demons, even at the expense of those who loved him. On the other side of the hill…King James stood with folded arms and a death stare scrawled across his bearded face. And speaking of death stares, nobody did them better than his necromancer confidant himself, Razor Ripley, whose magic was used to resurrect the fly and cause the momentary distraction. With a flick of Ripley’s bony finger, the magic left the fly’s body and drifted into the dark of space.

 

Both sides of this confrontation stared at each other with murderous intentions, fists clenched, lungs expanding and contracting with raspy flows, and deadly eyes that could have been weapons by themselves if not for the necessity of forged steel. Still in Ozzie’s doorway were the four animals who were responsible for exorcising Harrison’s ghost from Loki’s body. Razor Ripley knew they bore the responsibility and gave an ashen-eyed wink at Lucy, which instead of reassuring her, caused her to gulp and shiver. She could never get used to how creepy the necromancer looked even during moments of happiness.

 

King James uncrossed his arms and took a few steps forward, his steel boots crunching in the thick snow. His eyes never disengaged with Harrison’s furious gaze. “It’s over, brother,” said James. “Your quest for revenge was never going anywhere to begin with…and it has nowhere to go now. This whole conflict was little more than a waste of our time and resources. You could have ruled Rainbow Ranch with a kind heart and a wise mind. You could have asked for help if you needed it. And yet…you continued down your self-destructive path. For what reason, dear brother? Why did this need to happen?” No answer from Harrison, only fury. “Answer me, damn it!”

 

“And how exactly did you plan on helping me?” asked Harrison. “What could you have done to make this pain more bearable? I know! You could reach inside my head and pull out every demon that has ever spoken to me and told me this was a good idea! You can still do it now even as my physical form has turned to rotten waste! What are you waiting for, dear brother?! Do it! It’s the only way!”

 

Razor Ripley took a few steps forward until he was side-by-side with his royal master. “This sarcasm is unbecoming of you, Harrison. You bloody well knew what you needed to do. Talk through it all. Identify your emotions. Process the worst parts of your trauma. The healing would have been most difficult, but not impossible. All that being equal…you couldn’t be bothered to participate in your own rescue. That’s why you’re a ghost and everyone else is alive. And I do mean…everyone.”

 

From the bottom of the mountain, Lucy the Hammer’s old squad mates marched up the hill with weapons in hand and stoicism plastered on their jowly visages. Granted, they didn’t quite dry off from being washed down the power station, they were dogs and hygiene was at least the fourth or fifth item on their list of priorities. As Lucy’s heart dropped to her guts, she clutched her chest, smiled weakly, and tried to stifle a flood of tears that would for sure recreate what happened at the power station. Loki licked her face and got a giggle out of her. The tears would have to wait.

 

“As I said before, brother man…it’s over. Your worthless crusade is over,” said James.

 

The ghost of King Harrison cupped his hands and gathered an ample amount of fire energy, which swirled all around him, igniting a furious passion that was par for the course for a man with his demons. “Nothing is over until I say it’s over! This war will continue whether you’re too lazy to continue it or not!”

 

And just like that, Lucy had enough of this arrogant posturing. She proved him wrong before and she would do it again. She furrowed her eyebrows, set her hammer down, and rolled a snowball into her paws before launching it at the back of Harrison’s head.

 

“Ouch! You stupid dog!” bellowed Harrison.

 

“Death Rattle! FIRE!” commanded Razor Ripley. The snowball strike distracted Harrison long enough that he failed to defend himself from the one spell that could send a ghost into the endless void forever: the Death Rattle. That poor fly’s spirit floated away in short order, may his sacrifice never be forgotten. And after a jagged mini-tornado zipped across the hill, the Death Rattle spell found its mark.

 

Harrison’s ghostly essence contorted and twisted into multiple positions as it struggled to resist its inevitable fate. The morphing proved to make Lucy’s eyes widen and heart race faster than actual combat with this foe just moments earlier. Harrison’s head expanded like a balloon. His arms were growing and shrinking willy-nilly. His legs twisted up in a little knot. His stomach gurgled and boiled audibly enough to gag the dogs standing behind Ripley and King James. And then…Harrison’s ghostly body stretched and thinned out as it expanded to the sky. It stretched…and stretched…and stretched…until it was too thin to even exist anymore. And then…POOF! The glowing energy snuffed out and Harrison was but a distant memory. Such a shame he couldn’t get a proper send-off with his own funeral service, but coming back to life and fighting a meaningless war was a decision he made by himself…and one he would carry with him to eternity.

 

Silence took over the battlefield as everyone involved slowed down to process everything they just went through and saw for themselves. Lucy’s heartbeat steadied. Her eyes dried out and returned to normal size. Her heavy breathing had grown shallow. Everyone stood there and let the moment sink in. No more pointless revenge quests. No more insanity. No more wasted motion. Just a land of animals called Rainbow Ranch, where the abandoned and unloved could finally have a community of their own.

 

After a while of taking it all in, Lucy’s smile started to grow and she let out a few giggles. She picked up her oversized hammer and leapt into the air holding it overhead. “We did it!” The Shut Up Stupid Dogs squadron cheered, barked, and howled at the realization that this brutal struggle was over. Ozzie and Callie hugged each other and rekindled the love that was lost so long ago. Loki rushed over to his true owner and licked his bony toes while King James patted him on the head. Lucy continued to run, jump, and play while swinging her hammer in the air. “We did it! We did it, everyone! We gave that mean old man the old One, Two, Buckle Your Shoe!”

 

In her overexcitement, Lucy swung her hammer in the same spinning motion that caused her to belly flop at the power station. But this time…she landed on her feet. Silence overtook the mountain once again as everyone stared at Lucy’s celebratory dance. She actually did it. She landed on her feet. This just made her smile, spin, and dance even more. Wasn’t that what life in Rainbow Ranch was supposed to be about? Smiling, spinning, and dancing? Running, jumping, wrestling, and playing?

 

But now looking at the weapon of war in her hand, Lucy had a decision to make. She had grown comfortable enough in her role as a soldier protecting Rainbow Ranch from the worst of the worst. At the same time, she longed for the feeling of a tennis ball in her mouth, long-nailed hands scratching her belly, and eating sausages that exploded with juice in every bite. This wouldn’t be a decision she could make lightly, but it was one worth considering now that King Harrison was in the rear view.

Rainbow Ranch, Chapter 3

Even though Lucy’s metal armor provided most of her warmth, the chilly air of the mountainside nipped at her skin like a predatory case of fleas, each with meat grinder teeth. She hugged herself for extra heat, but the incoming snowflakes made her shiver nonetheless. In such a short amount of time, one snowflake on her canine nose turned into an entire winter of defeat and agony. Without her war hammer and tennis ball, she might as well have been the most naked being in the entirety of Rainbow Ranch. How was she supposed to fight Loki the Skull now? Barking and clawing could only do so much against a sorcerer who flashed in and out of combat as he pleased. Lucy became jealous of Callie the Wildfire for having any kind of weapon at all, the golden knife in question.

 

“Get a move on, Lucy! Ozzie is vulnerable out here!” roared Callie. Toughness would have been an admirable trait during these times, but all it did was make Lucy’s eyes water, which in turn hardened into icicles that shattered on the ground. It was completely normal coming from Razor Ripley, but Callie was a stranger who appeared unsympathetic to Lucy’s struggles. Then again, Callie had little to worry about wrapped up in the warmest orange fabric. Why burden herself with an annoying Chiweenie’s suffering?

 

The mountainside trek weakened Lucy’s legs to where they were trembling with or without a freezing temperature. She was used to scampering up to any challenge, but such athletics were punished with a painful gut and sour breathing. There were many times when Lucy wanted to just plop over and allow whatever was going to happen to happen. No weapon, no bravery, and no help beyond someone who couldn’t stand her to begin with. This was a losing battle against an opponent with seemingly endless magical energy. Lucy’s head swirled with dizziness and hopelessness. Why not just lay down and prove her abandoners right?

 

“We’re here! And no sign of Loki!” Callie’s grumpy demeanor was masked with a tiny smile, but only for a little while. “Come on, Lucy, let’s move it!” She grabbed the Chiweenie’s trembling paw and dragged her up the mountain, where a comforting orange light shone from a lone cave entrance, flanked by two scarecrows with rotten pumpkin heads. “His place must be a pigsty. I knew he was out of his gourd.”

 

Lucy and Callie scampered past the scarecrows and into the brightly lit cave. Sure enough, this was the home of Ozzie the Wise, whose days of wisdom and intense thought had long abandoned him. Sitting at the table next to a glowing metal stove (the source of the gentle light), the elderly gray and white cat man tenderly ate cold turkey scraps from a plate that had seen better days. Nibble, nibble, nibble, gulp, gulp, gulp, all with teeth that smelled worse than the pumpkins outside.

 

The messiness of this home could give his dental work a run for its money. Torn blankets strewn every which way. A record player that hadn’t been dusted since the days of his youth. A sink full of dirty dishes that would have attracted flies if not for the freezing weather. A bookcase of cracked yellow paper, probably with spells written on them that couldn’t be studied with a forgetful brain. There was even a golden framed picture of Callie and Ozzie as a couple hanging on the wall, albeit at an awkward angle.

 

Ozzie peeked up from his dubious dinner and smiled at Lucy and Callie. “You look familiar.”

 

“Gee, I wonder why that could be,” said Callie with a sharp tongue. “See that picture on the wall? Any clues coming yet?”

 

“Yes…yes…it’s all coming back to me now…” Ozzie stood up and cracked his spine over the back of his chair, causing Lucy to twitch in disgust and Callie to reprimand her for it. The old man cat trudged over to his two guests with Callie looking hopeful that she might be recognized after all of these years. But instead, Ozzie ruffled Lucy’s ears and said, “My granddaughter! My precious little granddaughter.” Lucy looked confused at first, but then chuckled as Ozzie groomed her face over and over again.

 

“For Pete’s sake, Ozzie, it’s me! Callie! Your ex-wife!” protested Callie. Ozzie continued licking Lucy’s cackling face while running his claws through her fur. The tough facade had melted away when Callie sighed and tucked her head in defeat. “He’s forgotten me…Ozzie has forgotten me…”

 

“Oh no, I haven’t,” said Ozzie. “My other granddaughter! You’ve come to visit me after all these years! Come here, you!” He gave Callie tummy scratches, which earned him a swat for his troubles.

 

“I’m not your granddaughter, you old coot! I’m your wife! We shared a house together! We chased balls of yarn together! You used to cook tuna fish every night and it was delicious! Don’t you remember?” Callie’s elderly anger turned to sorrowful word salad as her voice became increasingly jittery.

 

Ozzie placed a tender paw on Callie’s shivering shoulder and said, “Now, now, now…you know I can’t marry my granddaughter. But I’ll be there at your wedding when you’re old enough.”

 

Callie held her face in her paw and rubbed the bridge of her nose. “There’s no hope. He’s gone. He’s all gone.”

 

Now that she’d established some rapport with Ozzie, Lucy suddenly found her confidence again, which was definitely helped by the warm breeze blowing on her from the metal stove. “Mr. Ozzie, I’d love to stay and eat turkey with you, but there’s something we have to warn you about. There’s an evil sorcerer coming up this mountain and he says he wants to hurt you. He’s too powerful for any of us to fight off. The best thing we can do is get you out of here and to a safe place.”

 

“A sorcerer, you say?”

 

“Yes, Mr. Ozzie. He’s someone you used to know, I mean, once knew…” Lucy let out a phew at almost appearing insensitive towards Ozzie’s forgetfulness. “He’s an old rival of yours. You were the one who defeated him in the first place. Now he wants revenge. He’s come back to life in a dog’s body and he wants to…”

 

“Old rival? Hmm…” Ozzie scratched his own chin looking for answers. “Is he another one of my grandchildren? I’d love to play some fetch with him and tell him all about my record collection. These young whippersnappers could use some good music these days.”

 

“He’s gone, Lucy,” said Callie in an uncharacteristically low voice. “He doesn’t remember me or anyone else. All that magic use turned his brain into mush. He’d be better off in retirement care instead of this disheveled cave.”

 

“Wait a minute…” pondered Lucy. “If magic use can turn your brain into mush, then Loki the Skull…”

 

“You just now figured that out?” The fire and spunk was back in Callie’s voice, her knife raised in the air, much to Lucy’s cowering terror.

 

“Put the knife away, you old bat. I’ll finish the job for you.”

 

Lucy, Callie, and Ozzie’s eyes widened at the demonic voice haunting the once warm and cozy cave. The stove’s glow was slowly dying down and the only neon flash that appeared this time came from Loki the Skull’s eyes. Bright red horror enveloped the room, followed by the poisonous green of the sorcerer’s aura. Lucy gulped as hard as she could while hugging Callie for comfort. She tried to push her off, but Lucy was too strong and it was the only strength she would exhibit for a while.

 

But then, Loki waved the war hammer like a pendulum and taunted Lucy. “Looking for this? It’s the perfect tool for smashing, let’s say…tennis balls!” He then pulled out said tennis ball, this time deflated and dirty, no longer fit for an hour of friendly roughhousing.

 

“What are you going to do, Lucy? Are you going to snuggle up and cry like a little cherub? Are you going to howl to the night moon like a lost wolf puppy? Are you going to run back into your mommy’s arms? Oh wait…that last part isn’t an option anymore.” Loki laughed at his own callous joke.

Rainbow Ranch, Chapter 2

Lucy could have searched the entirety of Rainbow Ranch up and down and it wouldn’t have done anything but make her lonelier. Not a friend in sight. Not even a piece of driftwood came from that flood. The more she traveled, the harder she hugged herself for warmth. She became dangerously close to creating her own flood with the tears that she held back. Her old fur parents wouldn’t have faulted her for crying. She could have done it all she wanted when she was abandoned on this island with many others. Razor Ripley didn’t want “weakness” in his ranks, but Loki the Skull was even more discouraging of vulnerability due to the insane king that haunted his soul. King Harrison wanted Lucy the Hammer to bear a grudge against her abandoners, but all he succeeded in doing was making her resent him instead.

 

The frosty wind gathering around Lucy did nothing to ease her resentment. “That mean old jerk!” she muttered to herself through shivering breaths. With the power station knocked out, there was nothing to guard against the chilly weather that made Lucy shake harder than any sorrow ever could. She had been wandering aimlessly for so long that she failed to take in her surroundings. There was indeed harsh snow dusting the ground and making the air nip at her fur harder than fleas. “Where am I?” she asked. “Where are my friends? Where’s my tennis ball? I want my mommy and daddy…”

 

With very little meat on her bones (armor notwithstanding), she knew she would perish in this weather and was strangely okay with it. This was what abandonment meant to her. Rainbow Ranch was a lie. Her dumpers were right all along. And as long as Razor Ripley was upset with her, she would never prove them wrong. Debating wasn’t where she excelled in life despite having a yappy bark, which she missed using in the presence of her squad mates.

 

And then…a warm breeze passed over her, putting a tiny smile on her face. The more she felt this, the harder her tail wagged. Lucy yapped and barked as she dashed toward the source of this heavenly heat. Among the uncaring frost was a tiny grotto which radiated a warm orange glow. Hopefully, whoever dwelled in this place was as warm as the heat radiating from within. It would have been easier for Lucy to knock, but her happy zeal carried her past the entranceway regardless, romping inside like a wild stampede.

 

The minute the heat warmed her aching bones, she breathed a sigh of relief and plopped down on her butt. There could have been a fire-breathing dragon in this grotto and Lucy wouldn’t have cared as long as she could feel this heat forever. Though the breeze was no substitute for a mother’s hug, it came pretty close. Her eyes widened at the sound of a phonograph playing gentle guitar and violin music. As if the relaxation couldn’t be more blissful, now she was going to be lulled to sleep by the sweet strums of guitar strings and graceful glides of violins. Lucy yawned before placing her paws behind her head and smiling her way into the dreamworld.

 

Her subconscious vacation lasted as long as one of her kibble dinners as a pup. The record scratched and the new age lullaby was replaced by the hisses and growls of an angry cat. Lucy gulped and slowly opened her eyes to see an elderly anthropomorphic cat standing over her. The cat flashed her cutting fangs, balanced a golden knife in her hands, all while hogging the warmth for herself in her orange knitted armor with brown leather boots.

 

“Are…are you Ozzie the Wise?” asked a trembling Lucy before turning her head away in anticipation of a scratch.

 

“Ozzie the Wise is nothing more than a myth,” the cat growled in a feminine voice. “I’m Callie the Wildfire and you’ve crossed into my domain. What makes you think you’re welcome here? This is not a stray shelter. Move along, fleabag!”

 

“Wait, wait, wait!” begged Lucy before nipping up. “You don’t understand! I’m a member of the Shut Up Stupid Dogs! I’m here to help you! There’s a wizard on the loose and…”

 

“And you led him here, didn’t you.” Callie’s arms were crossed, blade still balanced in her paw.

 

“No, no! It’s not like that! You see, my…um…my squad mates were all…” Lucy gulped in an attempt to come up with an answer that never came.

 

“Let me guess: they met a cruel and unfair end at the hands of this wizard,” Callie said coldly.

 

“Um…yes…I mean…I hope not…” The tears were harder for Lucy to fight, but fight them she did.

 

“This is what happens when one of your kings decides to turn perfectly happy animals into monstrosities. This was always the plan for him. You think you’re the only one who misses your mommy? I miss mine too! I never had responsibilities and I don’t want them now. And yet, here you are begging for my help when my generator is sputtering and flickering.”

 

“Please, Miss Callie!” Lucy got on two knees and held her hands together like a prayer. “I can help you fix your generator if you just let me stay a while! Besides, you’re in danger! So is Ozzie the Wise!”

 

Callie tucked her head and turned her back to Lucy. “Ozzie the Wise is a danger to himself.”

 

“What do you mean? You know him?”

 

“I used to. He and I were supposed to be beddy-buddies in our fur parents’ humble home. We did everything together. And then…you know by now what King Harrison did. Ever since then, Ozzie became obsessed with responsibilities that were never his. He learned how to use magic and the more he used, the more his mind shut off. He’s not the man I loved so many years ago. I don’t even know who he is. HE doesn’t even know who he is. If he hasn’t gone down the same path as King Harrison with his insanity, he sure as heck is on his way there.”

 

Lucy stood up and hung her own head. “I’m sorry to hear about that, Miss Callie.”

 

“Don’t feel sorry for me, little pup. Animals never had a say in their own fates anyways, whether we were human-like or not. If our destinies are going to be chosen for us, then at the very least they should be chosen by people who undoubtedly care for us.”

 

“That’s…that’s so sad…”

 

Callie sighed and faced Lucy once more. “When you’re as old as I am, sadness becomes part of the norm. You’re not there yet, but you’ll get there someday. Your joints will ache. Your body will break down. Your mind will cannibalize itself. And then…we all fall down and die.”

 

“Why not speed up the process?!”

 

Lucy and Callie gasped before turning to find those words came from Loki the Skull, lightning swirling his hands and poison dripping from his fangs.

 

“So…you DID lead him here, didn’t you! Foolish oaf!” screamed Callie before she pulled out her knife to confront Loki.

 

“Callie, wait!”

 

It was too late; Callie already engaged her enemy with the fastest of stabs. Her paw blurred and flashed because of this speed, which left Lucy wide-eyed and awestruck. “Cool,” Lucy whispered to herself. Soon enough, her stabs began chipping away a the stone walls of her own grotto. She for sure had victory well within hand…until Loki blasted her with an energy ball and send her crashing into her record collection.

 

Lucy gasped as Callie picked herself up to fight again. But once she saw her records and phonograph destroyed, she collapsed to her knees and trembled in sorrow. “Oh no…no…Ozzie loved this music…and it’s gone…All of it’s gone…” She hugged her possessions and tried her damnedest not to break down in front of her mortal enemy. The last connection she had to her past, gone. All gone. Maybe she really should have “sped up the process”.

 

“YOU BIG FAT MEANIE! I’M GOING TO SMASH YOU GOOD!” An enraged Lucy drew her war hammer and charged at Loki with all of her scrappy might. Spittle flew from her lips like rabies and the warmth of the grotto was replaced with hellfire rage for her sworn enemy. She swung. She smashed. She pounded. She gave the old “one, two, buckle your shoe”…and her hammer went flying once again, jutting into the stone wall.

 

Loki, who dodged every shot Lucy gave, mockingly pulled the hammer out of the wall and dangled it in front of her. “This yours?”

 

“Give it back, you sick little mutt!” Every time Lucy jumped up and reached for it, Loki held it out of her way. Bored with this dog-exclusive game of cat and mouse, Loki zapped Lucy in the chest with a thunder bolt and send her barreling across the grotto. She coughed and wheezed at the damage while Loki continued to taunt her with the hammer.

 

“You want this back? Come get it. It’ll be waiting patiently for you in Ozzie’s home!”

 

“YOU LEAVE OZZIE ALONE, YOU PIG DOG! AND GIVE ME BACK MY HAMMER!” shrieked Lucy.

 

Loki ignored her command and teleported out of sight, black dust following him out.

 

Defeated and humiliated, Lucy dropped to her knees once more and pounded the dirt ground with her fists. “It’s not fair! It’s just not fair! Why does he get to have all the magic and all I’ve got is this stupid hammer?!”

 

“Magic?! What’s all this about magic?!” snapped Callie as she stood up to collect herself. “Ozzie the Wise has plenty of magic! He’s beaten King Harrison before and he’ll beat him again! You want your hammer back?! I want my past back! Come on, let’s got them both!”

 

Bewildered, Lucy asked, “So…you’re not mad at me anymore?”

 

Callie placed her paw on Lucy’s shoulder and stretched her claw. “Let me put it this way: I’m madder at King Harrison than I am at you. I’ll deal with you another time. But for now…” She held up a piece from one of her broken records. Lucy gulped in fear, but understood the mission at hand.

Barbarian Tears

When the demon inside reaches postmortem status

When the time comes to lay down your blood-soaked axes

When your war cry to the heavens is only a whimper

When your tree-trunk legs get limper and limper

Let the river of salt flow freely from your eyes

Let your inner war hammer crush Manosphere lies

Let your war-torn soul cycle through the emotions

So you don’t live day to day going through the motions

There’s nothing wrong with crying, regardless of gender

When you’ve spent so long being the strongest protector

When your deadliest attackers pass the gates of hell

When the smell of death leaves you nauseous and unwell

There’s no such thing as never-ending strength

There’s no such thing as a limited time length

When the burden you carry lives on forever

Unleash the thunderstorms and waterfall weather

The monsters and tyrants will laugh as much as they want

Even they have empty souls behind the violence they flaunt

Someday they will learn what vulnerability means

Even if their abusers never passed on those genes

Nobody leaves this life without a festering wound

That eats away at the flesh before they enter the tomb

That eats away at the mind like disease-carrying rats

The scars never get better, they only grow fat

Don’t take your pain to the other side of life

Don’t bottle the trauma that cuts like a knife

Your tears will grow the most beautiful plants

Leave behind a greener world when others can’t

You won’t be remembered as a laughing stock jester

But they’ll be remembered as angel molesters

You’ll be treated like a god for generations to come

Leave a legacy of love with your trail of blood

Gatekeeper

CHORUS 1
You are the gatekeeper! You are the gatekeeper!
You are the one who is wearing the crown!
You are the gatekeeper! You are the gatekeeper!
Your empire of bloodlust will crumble down!

VERSE 1
On my road to recovery, I find a brick wall
So I pick up a war hammer and smash it all
Destroyed to powder and grains of sand
I’m one step closer to the promised land

CHORUS 2
You are the gatekeeper! You are the gatekeeper!
You are the one who’s polluting the sound!
You are the gatekeeper! You are the gatekeeper!
My lungs of steel will never let me drown!

VERSE 2
My road to redemption is covered with monsters
So I pick up an axe and lead them to the slaughter
Blood, bones, and pieces of shredded skin
The fucking war of the century is mine to win

CHORUS 3
You are the gatekeeper! You are the gatekeeper!
You are the one who holds the golden key!
You are the gatekeeper! You are the gatekeeper!
Here‘s what happens when you fuck with me!

HOOK
A punch to the face, blood all over the place
A knee to the gut, knock you on your butt
A blade to your throat, your last ounce of hope
Is dangling by a thread of the hangman’s rope

VERSE 3
My road to victory is paved in teardrops
Yet I see no red sign that tells me to stop
Life is an endless road of dried up scars
Death is now forever written in the stars

CHORUS 4
You are the gatekeeper! You are the gatekeeper!
You are the one who points the gun at me!
You are the gatekeeper! You are the gatekeeper!
I know what you’re doing, it’s not hard to see!
You’re just another obstacle in my fucking way!
A brand new challenge and a brand new day!
I conquer that shit with barbaric dragon’s fire!
Keep them all coming, because I’ll never tire!

Oswald the Giant

Zack Moraga didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve to be found guilty for a murder he didn’t commit. He didn’t deserve to be locked up in the smelliest god-awful dungeon for five years. He also didn’t deserve to have his only chance at freedom come at the price of hunting a giant with little more than a jagged dagger and a measly crossbow. Who was he kidding? He couldn’t lay a giant even if he had a fiery catapult and two battering ram teams. He was all alone out there in the Dread Wight forest with two crappy weapons and a death sentence disguised as a window of opportunity.

The poor prisoner didn’t even try to track down this “Oswald the Giant”. He just sat on a tree stump in the middle of this foggy forest and sulked with his spiky-haired head in his hand. What did he really do to deserve all of this? Why was he wearing leather blue prison armor instead of a decent outfit? Didn’t anybody even remotely entertain the idea that Zack Moraga might be an innocent man? All he was at that point was a statistic. An outcast. A walking corpse. These negative thoughts caused a sigh to slip from his chapped mouth.

Finally after a few hours of moping on that tree stump with nothing but his thoughts, the ground began to shake. At first it was a gentle rumble. But then as the beast got closer, the tremors knocked Zack off of his stump and sent him into a mad dash for safety. He was barely one step ahead of the giant as it put its foot down for another violent quake. And another step. And another step. While this would be considered moseying for a giant, it was an exhausting sprint for Zack, who fell off the dirt trail and into a ditch.

The would be giant slayer laid on his back after so much exercise and breathed heavily. His ribs were sore from the cardio and his feet felt like he was walking on swords barefoot. He was done for. This is what a corrupt justice system in medieval times amounted to. For god’s sake, if the giant wanted to kill Zack, why didn’t he do it already? Get it over with! Quit letting the anxiety build up!

And then the giant laid down beside Zack on the dirt trail and rolled on his back. He let out an animalistic yawn and then a longwinded…purr? Wait a minute. Giants don’t purr. Sure enough, Zack opened his sore eyes for a few seconds and saw that the “great” and “fierce” Oswald the Giant was an oversized tiger-striped cat who purred and played like any other domestic animal would. But for now, he was sleeping.

A cat? The high courts wanted Zack Moraga to kill a giant cat? What for, exactly? Was his heavy stepping really that much of a threat to the royal kingdom? Was there a sudden shortage of fur? How about meat? Were people that starved for a good meal? Whatever the case was, the imprisoned warrior shook his head and achingly pulled himself to his feet. There wouldn’t be a better time to slay the giant than right fucking now.

Even though his body was sore, Zack managed to find the strength within his tired bones to climb up on Oswald’s belly using his fur coat. The big gut rose and fell slowly and evenly. The purrs were mixed in with the snores. This cat was definitely unconscious. But sneaking across the moving belly without disturbing him proved to be difficult work for Zack.

He tried to maintain his acrobatic equilibrium whilst tiptoeing across the beast’s stomach. Thinking this kill was already his, the hunter pulled out his crappy dagger and raised it in the air, hoping to get a good stab to the throat. He was almost there. He could feel the sweet taste of freedom. And then Zack stumbled on his ass and awakened the kitty giant, the rusty blade dropping to the ground below.

Oswald looked at the strange creature on his belly and lifted his head to try and lick him off like a flea. “Oh, dear god! Why?! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” screamed Zack as he was getting bathed in feline saliva. The goopy fluids caused the jailbird to stick to Oswald’s tongue and be flung high in the air after the cat spit him out.

While in the air, the cat giant batted him around like a common toy with all four of his fuzzy paws. Zack Moraga continued to curse and scream since the harsh motion (along with the spittle) was making him sick to his stomach. A final wave of Oswald’s paw sent the fighter off to the side of the dirt trail into the ditch once again.

Zack hit the ground hard enough to finally trigger a storm of vomit from his already filthy mouth. After about half a minute of puking, it was pretty much just dry heaves, which went to show how poorly prisoners were fed under this justice system. How badly they were defeated was also evident when Zack laid in a puddle of his own (and Oswald’s) oral filth and didn’t care about life anymore. It was over.

“Who am I kidding?” he said to himself. “This was a setup from the start. I don’t know how to slay a giant, much less a goddamn cat. Fuck this. I’m…going…back…to sleep.” He let out an acidic yawn and started to pass out when Oswald was nudging him with his wet nose.

“Stop it, leave me alone!” said Zack weakly. “Just kill me already! It’s over! My life is over! Why are you taking so long?!” Oswald was licking him again and the saliva didn’t smell any better than it did before. “Why?! Why must you do this to me?!”

After a while of licking, Zack was clean of his vomit, but not of cat spittle, so it was a minor victory at best. Oswald then grabbed Zack by his shirt collar with his teeth and tucked him into his belly before snuggling around the suicidal warrior. Along the way, Zack heard his crossbow drop on the ground as well, but he wasn’t going to lift a pinky in order to pick it up. To be honest, Oswald’s furry cuddle was more comfortable than any straw bed in that crappy dungeon. It didn’t take long for Zack to fall asleep in the cat giant’s loving hold.

The entire night had passed over the Dread Wight Forest and still Zack’s handlers didn’t see any progress made. The two seven-foot tall knights clad in steel armor and carrying war hammers were trudging through the forest in search of their ill gotten prisoner. “I told you we couldn’t rely on that pathetic weasel to get the job done!”

“What did you expect? He’s one guy with the most basic weapons we can come up with. Do you really think he stood a chance? Besides, there really was no hope for him after all. This had death sentence written all over it.”

“So the whole thing was just one sick joke from the start?”

“Pretty much. Now where is the little bastard? I’m hungry and I don’t want to stay in this wretched forest any longer.”

The ground shook and knocked the two towering knights on their asses, yet they kept steady grips on their war hammers. Before them stood Oswald the Giant, with his teeth showing, his drool flowing, and his hisses and growls coming at intimidating paces. Even so, the two knights weren’t the least bit scared. They laughed at the kitty giant before getting up and dusting themselves off.

“Come on, you giant turd! Let’s see what you’ve got!” shouted one of the knights before that same knight felt a sharp pain going up the crack of his ass. He danced around bleeding and screaming like a little girl until he eventually lost his footing and spun out into the ditch below to die.

The other knight noticed that the source of the anal pain was a crossbow bolt, one issued only to prisoners of this “death sentence”. The steel-clad warrior looked around and saw Zack Moraga leaning against a tree with his arms folded and the smoking gun (or cocked crossbow) in his hand.

“You sick bastard!” screamed the remaining knight as he stampeded toward the unflinching Zack with his war hammer ready to strike. The seven-foot warrior felt a hard smack against his back and flew into another oak tree with explosive force. The pain was horrendous, so much so that turning his head to see who smashed him was a chore itself. It was Oswald and his giant paw, no doubt.

As soon as the knight peeled himself out of the tree, he fell over in a weakened state and was ripe for the picking. Zack waddled over to him and lifted his head before saying, “Justice is finally served!” That was the last thing the knight heard before he felt the jagged edge rip his throat to pieces, bleeding him out and suffocating him at the same time. He died instantly.

After the two handlers were disposed of, Zack threw aside his weapons and looked up at Oswald with a big smile on his face. He hadn’t smiled in such a long time and it felt good to do so. The now ex-prisoner climbed up on Oswald’s back and said, “Take me home, kitty-pie. I have a baby girl who’s dying to meet you!”

The jolly gray giant meowed and purred as he trotted across the forest, fully intending to take Zack home where he belongs.