Sycorax's Daughters

by Kinitra Brooks, PhD

  Maleka handed Caleb his gun back.

  “I was really hoping for a semiautomatic, or at least a gun that could have been easily converted. Even a revolver would be nice. Are there any handguns here?”

  “Semiautomatic?” Caleb asked. “I guess if you’re hunting people but we came out here to hunt deer. I got a Colt .38 out in the truck.”

  “My state allows the use of semiautomatic for big-game hunting,” Maleka explained. “And the last thing anyone is doing right now is going outside.”

  Travis was curious. “What’s considered big-game hunting in California … a Colombian drug lord?”

  Maleka wanted nothing more than to knock Travis unconscious with the butt of his own gun, but as the best possible defense plan formulated in her mind, she knew she was going to need him.

  “I’m not from California, Travis. I’m from Washington. Is there a window in the bathroom?”

  “No,” they all answered at once. Finally, God had answered her prayer.

  Maleka opened the door to the small bathroom and asked Ryan to drag over the chair that Caleb had been sitting in. She used the chair to hold the door open, then lined the bathtub with sleeping bags.

  Because Caleb was the tallest, he was the one she put in the bathtub, and he was thankful for the padding of the sleeping bags, as he would be shooting directly over Maleka’s head from a kneeling position. Maleka wanted the gunfire aimed in such a way as to produce highest the concentration of fatalities. It was one thing to shoot at the heads of unsuspecting elk. It was another thing entirely to be shooting at moving targets that had the ability to change from one creature to another, and whose sole purpose was your demise. Travis’s position was on the ledge of the tub, and Ryan sat on the toilet. They would surround her as she sat on the floor, and her goal was to provide them with enough automatic fire so they could reload their guns.

  With the men in place, Maleka moved the two floor lamps to each side of the bathroom door and plugged them in. She directed the swivel heads of the lamps toward the cabin door. The bright lights of the 100-watt bulbs would blind anyone, or anything coming through the door and provide a safe haven of darkness behind which they could hide.

  They sat in the silent dark for almost twenty minutes, and when Travis started talking, it startled everyone.

  “Caleb,” he said. “I think you’re the coolest mother-fucking man I ever met.”

  The iron shutters on both windows started to rattle. Caleb cleared his throat, but when he started talking, his voice was full of emotion.

  “You’ve always followed me. No matter where I went, I knew if I ever wanted my little brother, all I had to do was turn around and you’d be there. In all my life, this is the only time I wish you hadn’t followed me.”

  Hearing Travis and Caleb say goodbye was more than Maleka could deal with. She had fought in four theaters in places you would never be able to find on a map, just to be killed in her own country by a fiend that should not exist.

  Keep this witchya at all times no matter what happens.

  There was nothing she could do about it now, and Travis had been right all along. She indeed had killed them all. This was so unfair; it was just a stupid superstition, none of this was real.

  Except it was.

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  Maleka wasn’t just apologizing to Caleb, Travis, and Ryan. She was also apologizing to her cousin Maybell who put a broom by her bedroom door to keep her safe from the terrors that lurked in the night. She was apologizing to her grandmother, who had given her a gift that was meant to keep her safe, and to the gas-station attendant who knew how important it was when he tried to give it back to her. But more importantly, Maleka was apologized to God for her earlier blasphemous display of disobedience.

  With a final kick, the door broke in half, flying inwards in two pieces, and as the wind and the monsters rushed in, everyone started shooting.

  last of the red hot lovers

  by Amber Doe

  What’s the worst that can happen when he sees you naked? What evidence will he uncover? What will he think of the milky white roads traced along your shoulders and abdomen? Evidence of the love before him: the last of the red hot lovers. They were there after the first man became your only lover and source of pleasure and they left their mark. What will you have after all of your fears are laid bare? “I want you to touch me there....not him.” “I see now that I’m not going to be able to eat my way out of this.” Creamy sweetness and salty beef are nothing like your hands and lips..... There is too much evidence behind closed doors, battle scars simmer under my tee shirt. Affirmation of my linchpin after him. Guilt, gluttony, and fleeting pleasure read like a sun scorched map starting at my shoulders before ending their journey at my abdomen. What would I have looked like he if had never touched me against my will?

  Taste the Taint: A Cursed Story

  by Kai Leakes

  Kendrick Anderson was apprehensive after hanging out with Jessica, his best friend TJ’s fiancée. He looked at his watch. He had obligations and responsibilities to uphold. Time was of the essence for their plans. Everything needed to be just right. He needed to have the perfect bachelor party for TJ. But, throughout the planning, a piercing pain had started in Kendrick’s left temple. With the irritating pain came a strangely sweet and metallic taste that coated his taste buds. Was it the coffee he had earlier? He thought to himself. The taste was intense. It mellowed while he strode through the corridors of his office. In a rush, he took to the elevators and headed down to the first floor.

  That taste gave him an electric jolt. He felt God-like, and in a quiet part of his mind, he wanted more. Kendrick shook off his odd thoughts then stepped from the elevator.

  “I’m tripping,” he muttered to himself.

  Fake smile plastered on his face, he gave a curt nod to the co-workers he passed. Kendrick was a sycophant. It served a purpose for him. Since his childhood, he had been that way. Back in St. Louis, Missouri in the Kinlock area, when he was twelve years old, his father had become sick. Kendrick ended up with the responsibility of being his father’s caretaker.

  It was then that he had to think of a way to be free of that burden. He gained his freedom manipulating his teachers. They believed that he needed saving after his father died of AIDS. Then his plans kicked into motion.

  It worked so well that his math teacher adopted him. That white man and his wife moved Kendrick out of his decrepit ranch house. In the name of education, his new parents sent him to Chicago where he attended a top private school. After that, his life went by the book. He matriculated to Morehouse College on a scholarship. He joined the esteemed Krimson order: the brotherhood of Kappa Alpha Psi. Then he met his frat brother Troy Jackson. Kendrick learned that if he wanted something from TJ, that all he had to do was kiss the brotha’s ass. So, he did.

  Back then, he had the reputation for being the ‘Event King’. He had been so good at crafting parties, that his party was where TJ and Jessica met. Ken had invited her. TJ wooed her, and when she ended up attacked at the party, TJ and Kendrick saved her. Since then, Jessica hero worshiped TJ because of Ken. If his best friend wanted a woman, he made it happen.

  People whisked by him and he put that thought to the side. The past was the past. He was a people person. Being a bootlicker helped him network and relish in many lucrative benefits. He made it into Harvard because of TJ, which boosted his own endeavors. He also gained access to various avenues when TJ became a top tiered criminal lawyer back in St. Louis.

  Kendrick built a profitable portfolio that currently serviced his needs in the finance world. Because of his resourcefulness as TJ’s friend, he obtained a high-level position with CU Reynolds and Co.; also known as Costa, Underwood, Reynolds, Singh, Eaton, and Daniels financing corporation. When the big heads wished to have their names mentioned. His job was to help focus the company’s IPOs, and their large public and private share offerings. He was also a damn good accountant. Kendrick ardently ro
se up the ranks with every risk he took for the firm.

  One such risk was the financing of greedy commercial and residential businesses. Kendrick would buy out or take various properties to gentrify the Chicago Southside. He made a lot of money off the blood and tears of such investment for his clients, including himself. He was ruthless and enjoyed cashing in on the loans that he urged many downtrodden folks to take with him.

  “They shouldn’t be so damn needy,” Kendrick grumbled to himself.

  He had no love for their plight because it was a waste of time and only halted his gain in making profits. When he’d heard the sob stories on the news, he would sit back and enjoy a glass of red wine. His happiness came from money and it served him well. As he strolled past various people, he watched them shuffle out of his way in terror. His mind was on his previous thoughts which had him formulating his next plan of business.

  With a slick smile that ran across his handsome features, Kendrick slid a hand into the pocket of his slacks. He was a young man of twenty-eight years. His unambiguous ruggedness oftentimes was eye-catching for some, as well as the slight burn scar across his jaw that had healed in a manner that didn’t seem to offend anyone. It all made him intriguing. Many assumed that he was Hispanic and something else.

  He was, and that something else was African American. Kendrick relished in the confusion it brought others. Once upon a time, he used to be offended by it, but now, he didn’t care. His looks helped him garner many women and aided in his rise in the company. His trysts with various corporate liaisons vouched for that.

  No one trusts an ugly accountant.

  Lost in thought, he smoothed a hand down his fitted black Italian grade suit. He then unclasped the front while waiting at the firm’s carport. The glint of the sun shined in his eyes. He flinched and a valet appeared by his side with empty compliments.

  Kendrick gave the valet one glance then turned his attention to his silver Lexus that pulled up in front of him. In his mind, he said nothing to the fool. Yet the fading reflection that displayed his actions showed him hissing at the guy. Pleasing satisfaction arose in him.

  “Move! I don’t care for ass-kissers, nor do I have the time for them.”

  The annoying valet slouched away in fear and Ken grinned.

  Rumors surrounding CU Reynolds and Co. were that anyone who worked for the firm couldn’t be trusted. Everyone employed were lechers who would kill before allowing an account to go foul. After his induction in the company, Kendrick had to agree.

  Everyone was fearsome and he preferred it that way.

  “Mr. Anderson wait.” Ken heard his name, but ignored it. He was busy studying a beautiful valet with red hair who was climbing out of his car. She had stark sapphire eyes and regarded him with a seductive smirk. To him, it was clear that she wanted him. It amused him.

  “Kendrick Anderson! Wait!”

  An icy sliver of anger made his spine turn into steel at the aggressive shout of his name.

  Red hair with café au lait skin was on display. He immediately distracted himself with a view of voluptuous curves. There was no way to disguise them from the unique beauty’s valet uniform. She’d be perfect for tonight, he thought to himself. Lost in her sauce, he heard his name again.

  “Leave me alone,” he said.

  Kendrick walked forward and reached into his jacket. He pulled out a black business card.

  “Miss?” Sexy as sin and her attributes deserved to be admired in his opinion.

  When he reached out to snake his fingers around her arm, the sound of yammering began to irritate him. His stomach clenched in angst at the buzzing near him. It became so unbearable that his gaze turned into disgust and fury. Kendrick set his narrowed eyes on the person by his side. It was the owner of the voice who kept calling out to him.

  “Who are you to formally address me as if you know me, huh?” he snapped. Kendrick realized that he was looking at the previous admitting valet who had backed away from him in fear.

  “Mr. Anderson?” The boy repeated for the third time.

  Kendrick’s intuition was typically keen. He always listened when it prickled within his stomach. Funny enough, the day he’d signed his firm’s hiring paperwork, that sensation stopped. It changed into a steely awareness that pressed into his temples and caused his jaw to become sore.

  The pain then transitioned into an odd need for sex, food, or subjugation. If he felt his body prickle with his intuition, he’d find a way to be in a person’s face by any means necessary. Kendrick called it the ability to read a person’s soul. He could latch on to a person’s allure and immediately know how to deal with them.

  He learned to listen to the familiar awareness in his gut, that demand to drain another person. Briskly, Kendrick turned to step closer to the admitting valet. A scowl etched across his face while he read the boy. His sepia hued eyes roamed over the young man stopping on his badge. The boy’s name was Aaron. He took a deep breath. Kendrick smelled a light anxiousness from the boy.

  Fear? No.

  Aaron shifted back, putting distance between them.

  Caution. Kendrick smirked as he took in Aaron’s appearance.

  Instantly he noticed that Aaron was no older then possibly eighteen or twenty. The boy was testing Kendrick’s boundaries.

  Aaron scowled. His oak-toned skin seemed to turn golden with the sun.

  Ken also noticed a hidden tattoo on the side of Aaron’s neck peeking from under the white collar of his uniform. It appeared to be some type of a symbol shaped like two crossed hatchets.

  Interesting.

  Aaron agitatedly ran a hand through his sandy brown dreadlocked fade. Kendrick enjoyed making this kid anxious. “Mr. Anderson of…CU Reynolds and Company?” Aaron asked in a constrained voice.

  Kendrick rolled his shoulders. He thumbed his nose and looked around the area in annoyance. Like a viper, he attempted to wrap his hand around Aaron’s neck. “If you repeat my name one more time…”

  Aaron leaned back. He smoothly glided back on his feet in a move that would have impressed Muhammad Ali. The kid followed through with a harsh jab that connected to the side of his jaw. It stunned Kendrick. That crap came out of nowhere and hit him hard. Hell, no.

  The splash and sting of liquid dripped down his face just as he was ready to body slam the kid. An intense pain burned his eyes. Kendrick then hollered like a hound and fell to his knees. He violently wiped at his face. Pieces of his almond toned flesh came away in his bloody palms. Icy burning numbness hit him with a brittle nerve tingling agony that made him screech in horror.

  Who was that kid? What had he thrown on him? What was this? Acid? It couldn’t be! Every inch of his exposed skin fell away in strips on the concrete walkway where he knelt. Locked between paralyzing fear and anger, he snarled then flung his hand out only coming up with air.

  “What have you done to me?” Kendrick yelled.

  The boy stared down at him seething in disgust. There was no reply.

  Flashes of fire burned across Kendrick’s vision mixing with the crowd in front of him. In the flames he saw disjointed faces. Some human, some ungodly. Creatures with various shapes and hues grinned at him in delight. Their pearly teeth descending in glee.

  Other entities in that fire touched the humans in the crowd. The ghastly demons injected inky substances from their own bodies into the on-lookers. All to Kendrick’s sick delight.

  What was this! Where was he? He felt locked into a suffocating tightness of fire and brimstone. No, this couldn’t be reality!

  “Fuck you and remember her name! Loretta Wilson!”

  Who?

  “You locked my grandma into a predatory loan then took our house and our money! She died homeless because she couldn’t buy her meds and had no safe shelter because of you! Fuck you, nig—” Aaron shouted at him in angst while security snatched him up.

  Kendrick had no remorse for his actions. Oddlyenough, that gave him a sense of serenity from his burning nightmare.

&n
bsp; “Kill yourself!” Aaron shouted while struggling. “You’re already dead bitch! All your karma is coming to your tainted ass! On everything. We’ll get you soon.”

  “Help me…” Kendrick almost said, but curiously didn’t.

  In the commotion, as he stared at Aaron and wiped at his burning eyes, he saw the boy twist out of security’s hands. Aaron’s brown eyes seemed to emit an unearthly golden resonance. A flash of light covered the kid, making him untouchable and then he disappeared through the crowd.

  Ken writhed in pain. His vision of fire and brimstone with that of flying monsters in the sky disappeared.

  “You almost had the slippery anointed bastard,” he heard.

  Confused, Kendrick turned his head. He ended up staring into stunning eyes glowing sapphire blue. As he stared, he felt a pain cut through him. The burning intensified then turned into pure pleasure. The icy ecstasy allowed him to slowly stand. With a grunt, he wiped sweat from his face with a handkerchief. The pain had become satisfying and once it was gone, he was upset about it. He felt healed in an odd twisted sort of manner.

  “What did you say?” he asked, just to be sure that he hadn’t heard things.

  “Oh, I said are you okay, Mr. Anderson. The city is becoming congested with those activist punks. I’m sorry that child accosted you like that.” It was the redheaded valet.

  Her voice was sweet velvet.

  Kendrick found himself smiling, while brushing off the previous attack. “He’s nothing to me. Thank you for your help…”

  “Yvonne. And thank you for your card.” Yvonne pleasantly mentioned reminding him that he had given her his card.

  “You’re welcome. I’ve never seen you here. Is this your first day here?”

  He watched the woman’s plush lips part into a soft chuckle. She tilted her head to the side and gave a sensual nod. “Yes. But, I think it’ll be my last.”

  If he had his way, it would be.

  A satisfying smile spread across his face while taking in her exotic beauty. He wanted to touch her bright red hair, but he thought better of it. “Call that number Yvonne. You would be perfect for tonight’s event. The pay is good and you won’t have to deal with trash interloping at your place of work”