Acquaro

by Trevor R. Fairbanks

  Roderick looked at Orjure and smiled. “How about you? How do you feel?”

  She said nothing, only lowered her head. She could remember being with Omnithax out beyond the galaxy rim. She could remember making love to him on the pale moon, bathed in the light of distant stars, and the way that their bodies seemed to flow together. That was where he first got the dumb idea. “Wouldn’t it be nice to be human?” he asked her as they stared at the blue planet. “Their lives are so short. They live so hard, so briefly.”

  “It would be nice,” she agreed and tucked herself under his arm. “But how do we do it?”

  “Remember that writer?” he asked. “The one who wrote all those dirty stories. What about him?”

  “Yes. That makes sense. Writers always dream of being Gods. What do we do with him?”

  “We’ll make a trade,” he said. “Leonard Samson is always trying to kill himself. He doesn’t want his body. Maybe he’ll give it to us.”

  “What do we give him in return?”

  Omnithax looked at her. “Eternity.”

  “You mean, give it all up?”

  Omnithax nodded. “I think it will be worth it.”

  Orjure had to think about that. The idea was ludicrous. One did not just go about granting eternity to mortals. Who knew what he might do with that sort of power? She also knew how boring eternity could be. Maybe she had seen enough stars be born. Maybe she had seen enough universes die. Maybe she had seen enough. And, who knew? It might be fun.

  “Okay,” she finally said. Omnithax leaned forward and kissed her.

  “We will be children on the planet Earth. I can imagine no greater reward.”

  Now he was gone. They had not even been children for a day and he was already gone. Orjure looked at these other two boys. They were talking about something.

  “So, if we’re going to be a gang then what do we call ourselves?” Jamie asked. The boys knew that their old lives with Miss Felony were behind them. Finished. They needed new names and new identities.

  They looked at the naked girl. She smiled at them. She did not feel as if she had a choice. Orjure knew that if she disagreed they might do to her what they had done to Omnithax. She did not want that.

  “The Vile Three,” he said. “Sounds good, doesn’t it?”

  The sun was going down.

  ***

  “That might look nice on you,” Jamie said.

  Orjure felt flattered. She held the old dress up to her young body. The fabric between her fingers was soft, even luxurious, although it did smell weird. It smelled of dust and foul air. Truly, these humans were made of excrement and they did not even know it. She did not think she would ever become accustomed to the smell.

  “Just grab it,” Roderick said. “Come on. We need to hurry up.”

  They did need to hurry up. Miss Felony, that woman they were always talking about, would be home soon.

  Orjure slipped the dress on over her head. It was way too big but better than running around in nothing. Roderick came over with some scissors and started to cut the hem.

  “Do you like books?” Jamie asked, holding out his least favorite tome. He hated books. Books meant pain. But he wanted to impress her.

  “What are you doing?” Roderick asked him, slapping the book out of his hand. “What the fuck? You want to go on a date or something?”

  “I was just trying to be nice,” Jamie whined. “We’ll be nice later. We need to get her dressed and then we need to go get more of that stuff.” He looked around the trailer and Jamie could see the idea forming in his mind. “But first ...”

  He grabbed the toy robot that had been their Christmas present. With all the strength he had he hurled it into the television set. The sound of breaking glass made Orjure squeal.

  “Come on,” he ordered Jamie. “Let’s trash this fucking place.”

  “I know just where to start,” he thought and grabbed a handful of books. He sat on the floor and started to tear them apart, page by page. All those awful books that had punished him so. It felt good to have his revenge.

  “I’ll help,” Orjure said, sitting across from him. She started to rip up the books, too.

  Meanwhile Roderick was in the kitchen, smashing everything he could find. All he could think about was how Miss Felony was going to feel when she got home. She was going to be fucking pissed.

  The White Trash Past

  “So how did you ever manage to escape?” Lila asked.

  Hector looked at her. She was hanging on his every word. That made him feel good.

  Outside dawn had turned into afternoon. Hector’s alcohol intake had turned into exhaustion. More than anything he was tired. He was tired of telling the story.

  “See, the elves had me surrounded. And they were pushing closer and closer. I was sweating like a pig.”

  “Were you sweating worse than now?” she asked with a smile. She was covered in his sweat and looked beautiful.

  “This was a different kind of sweat. With all those spears pointed at me it was a death sweat.”

  “Ah. A death sweat. So how did you escape?”

  “I fought,” Hector said and wished that he had another beer. “Every step of the way. I fought them tooth and nail. I grabbed one of those little fuckers and ripped his goddamn throat out with my teeth. Like a direwolf.” Memory of that. Hot elf blood running down his throat. The sensation in his stomach. The howling at the moon.

  “They didn’t kill you?”

  “A few got their licks in. Here,” he took the lighter off the shelf beside the bed. “See for yourself.”

  She flicked it on and ran the flame over his body. Scars appeared on the flesh like worms, moving across his chest and back.

  “Magic wounds,” he smiled. “But I killed them. All except for one.”

  “Lordax?”

  Hector nodded. “I managed to make my way back to the van, even though I was bleeding from a score of wounds. I passed out then. When I woke up we were home. My dad had managed to drive us back.”

  “What about your mom?”

  Hector shook his head. “I had no choice. She was part of that world now. There was no saving her.”

  “Then why are you here?”

  “Well, my father was never the same after that. His wife was gone. Two of his three kids were gone. He started drinking again, bad. And I had my own things going. I was playing drums in a band.”

  “Really? What band were you in?”

  “You’ve probably never heard of us. Sodomite?”

  “No,” she blushed a little, then started laughing out loud. “You were in a band called Sodomite?”

  “Yeah. It was crazy. But we were popular on the LA scene. For a while. Until we broke up.”

  “What type of music?”

  “Total anti-social black metal.”

  “Like with Satan and church burning and stuff?”

  “Yeah,” he nodded. “Well, we never burned down any churches. But we were extreme for a California band. I’ll never forget our last show.”

  “What happened?”

  “It was up in Reno. In some guys basement, of all places. And we were playing, and Mark was really drunk. He was the bassist/singer. But he didn’t have his bass that night because he broke it a couple of weeks before. So, he got really drunk and it was just him and the microphone. Mark was a weird dude. He used to play naked and he was doing that this night, you know? rolling around on the floor completely wasted. All these kids were watching him go crazy. Then weird shit started happening.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I was playing and there was this energy in the room, like nothing I had ever felt before. The drums went deeper, like I was playing in a cave or something. It felt primal. And I started playing harder. Mark started to really get into it, he was going berserk. Then I started seeing things.”

  “Like what?”

  “These beings started coming out of the floor, as if my drums were calling them. They were like spirits or
something. And there was this giant shark.”

  “A giant shark?”

  “Yeah, like a ghost, swimming through the crowd. Mark started screaming at me, yelling at me to stop. But I couldn’t stop playing. Suddenly the drums were everything. I had tapped into some sort of energy and it was affecting all reality. I completely shut down. Lost all control.”

  “Sounds like fun.”

  Hector nodded. “If you can call that fun. It was intense. After we were drained. Carson, he was the guitarist, and I were completely exhausted. We went back to the dude’s house we were staying at and collapsed. Mark disappeared. We never saw him again. When I got back home, and my father was dead.”

  “How did he die?”

  Hector made a gun out of his fingers, put to his head and pulled the trigger. “Right through the old brain. I think he had done it just after I left. It looked like he had been there for some time. The body was already rotting.”

  “Rough.”

  “Janet helped me through it.”

  “Janet?”

  “Yeah. She started off as the band slut, you know? like our own little groupie. But then Mark was gone, and I think he was the one she really liked. And Carson went off the deep end. He moved out of his parent’s house and into the valley and really got fucked up on drugs and alcohol. So, me and Janet sort of started hanging out together. I don’t think we were really going out, not seriously. I mean, back then I thought so. Hell, I told everyone she was my girlfriend. But in hindsight I think we were together simply because no one else wanted us.”

  “Who wouldn’t want you?”

  “Her, for one thing. Which is mostly my fault. I put her on a stripper pole. She didn’t like that. Then we just sort of broke up. It was over. Really bad.”

  “That sucks. So, then what?”

  “I got into porn. Met some other girls. I was doing pretty good for a while but that world,” he shook his head. “It takes its toll on everyone. Finally, I just got sick of it. I got in the van and drove away.”

  “What about the Quicksilver Stallion?”

  “Right before I left I took the little piece of metal and hurled it into the LA river.”

  “Do you think that was the right idea? I mean, that horse saved your life.”

  “I’m not so sure. To this day I still think it might have all been a dream.”

  “Sounds like a bad dream.”

  “Oh, it was a fucking nightmare. Maybe I just decided to wake up.”

  Lila nodded. “Sometimes I wish I could wake up. Sometimes this place gets me down. I want to be in the real world.”

  “The city is a bad place. You have things good here. At least it’s quiet.”

  “You don’t play your drums anymore?”

  “Nah,” he shook his head. “That part of my life is over.”

  “Then where are you going next?”

  “I’m not sure yet.” He looked over at her. Their eyes met, and Hector took a deep breath. “I might just stay here for awhile if that’s okay. Just until I can get my shit straight.”

  “I’ll talk to my dad,” she said and leaned over to kiss him gently on the lips.

  Just then there was a scrabbling at the side door. Hector got down and opened it, letting Murphy jump inside, out of the morning sunlight. The Chupacabra still had blood on its muzzle.

  “What the Hell is that?”

  “A chupacabra,” Hector told her. “I was thinking about naming him Murphy. What do you think? Is that a good name for a chupacabra?”

  Lila smiled at that. “It’s as good a name as any.”

  The Blue

  The knock at the door was sudden and insistent, even angry, and loud enough to wake the dead. Fists hammered at the imitation wood. They would not be ignored. It seemed to come from a lower position, as if whoever outside was a child.

  Joseph climbed out of his warm bed with a groan. Next to him Marget was still asleep, as she should be. Last night had been a long one for her.

  Casually Joseph slipped on his robe and adjusted his glasses. The trailer rocked as he made his way to the door. As a pharmacist he was used to visits like this. They always came at a bad time. Outside there could be anyone, but most likely a junky looking to score. They were his best customers. Joseph could charge a man going through withdrawals whatever price he wanted. In a capitalist society this was a golden ticket. Find someone with enough need and make them pay everything. The laws of supply and demand were the foundation of this world.

  He opened the door to see three children standing in front of him. Joseph recognized them from the day before, even though the little girl had managed to find some clothing and she appeared to have aged overnight. The boys looked older, too. Their faces were fuller and beard stubble had sprouted on their young chins. The girl, he noticed, was wearing a small mustache. Even their hair had gotten longer, and it was unkept, and in desperate need of a cut.

  Yesterday they had been kids, playing in a field. Now they were on their way to becoming full-fledged drug addicts. And children had parents with deep purses, he smiled.

  “Good morning, boys and girl.” They did not look good, and one of the boys was missing. Their eyes were black with a lack of sleep. Their bodies haggard. Their skin had become skeletal and thin. Snot ran from their noses profusely, dribbling down about their lips and making them shine against the early morning light. The clothes they wore were ripped and dirty, as if they had spent the night outside like wild animals. Joseph could see the hooks in their eyes. He had them, body and soul.

  “We want more,” the largest boy said.

  “We need more,” the smaller boy continued, stepping forward to look Joseph dead in the eye, challenging him to say no.

  “And if we don’t get it ...” the girl sniffled, looking as if she was about to cry. Joseph watched her eat a piece of snot.

  “Sorry. You are too young,” Joseph smiled and pulled the gun from the front pocket of his robe. The gun was always there, waiting for situations like this. Gently, he lowered the barrel to the forehead of the biggest boy. Surely, he was the leader. He had to be, he was the biggest. Take him out and the others would follow. “Don’t you kids get it? You can’t threaten me.” Joseph eased the hammer back on the gun, locking a bullet into place. “This is a dangerous game that you are playing.”

  But the boy did not flinch. He did not move. Joseph looked into his eyes. He would do anything for his next fix, even die.

  He eased the hammer back, taking the bullet out of the chamber. He sighed. “Let me tell you how it works. The first taste is free. The rest you have to pay for.”

  “Then how much?” the girl demanded.

  “Whatever I like,” Joseph shot back. “My services do not come cheap.”

  “That gun doesn’t scare me,” the boy spit, pushing it away from his face. Joseph quickly pulled the trigger and put a shot into the lantern hanging over his door. The bang echoed throughout the quiet morning and the boy’s eyes went wide as the smell of lead wafted over his nose. It was beautiful. His first taste of death. It was something he would remember until his dying day.

  “But we are not enemies,” Joseph said, blowing the smoke from the barrel. “Just don’t threaten me. I have more of the Blue. You only need to do a favor for me in exchange.”

  “Anything,” the girl said, rolling her eyes. Her voice took on a husky edge, like a young whore. And the dress she was wearing, although it looked old fashioned, was cut and tucked in all the right places, revealing underage curves.

  “All right, then.” Joseph slipped the warm gun back into his robe. It felt nice and hot against his bare dick. “I want you children to guard my trailer. Strange things have been happening of late, so I want you to watch it. I want you to make sure nothing strange happens again.”

  “Deal,” the largest boy nodded. “And now we get the drug?”

  “Of course.” Joseph ducked back inside without shutting the door. He returned with a fresh batch of the Vial Three he had mixed up th
e night before. He had even discovered the perfect method of delivery, which was an old bottle with an eye-dropper cap. “Here you are.”

  He handed the vial over. The large boy grabbed it and sucked some up into the eye dropper. He shot it down his throat without any water before handing it over to the smaller boy.

  The boy smiled. His face blossomed into a wide giddy smile. His eyes were rejuvenated as if he was looking out upon a new world.