Leprechaun in the Hood: The Musical: A Novel

by Cameron Pierce

  Marvin stumbled backward, but just before he fell, pillars of green swirling light burst from his palms and launched him into the air. He flipped and spun, giggling as he soared.

  The leprechaun had already been charging toward Marvin, and when Marvin flew into the air, the leprechaun staggered forward, lost his footing and smacked his chin on the floor. He slid a few feet toward Trinie, and when his green eyes landed on her, his lip curled into a sneer.

  “You’d look gorgeous in gold, that’s this leprechaun’s opinion. Look into my eyes and become my minion.”

  “Fuck you!”

  Just as the leprechaun grinned and his eyes began to glow brighter, Marvin slammed down on the Lep’s back with his feet as if landing from a high jump. The leprechaun’s eyes pinched shut and his face twisted with pain.

  Marvin reached down, plucked the Lep’s hat, and placed it on his own head. Then he put his hands on his hips and tap-danced, the heels of his shoes grinding into the leprechaun’s back and shoulders.

  “Diddly diddly diddly dee, you’ll rue the day that you bit me.”

  It was only then that Trinie noticed the violence thrashing all around them. Her vision was slowly clearing now, though it still felt like her brain had been dipped in molasses. And as she forced herself to her feet, using the wall behind her for support, she saw for the first time the police officers and what appeared to be strippers tearing each other apart. Cops fired their guns, miraculously not hitting any of the audience members as far as Trinie could tell. The strippers used their nails to tear into them, spilling entrails and splashing blood.

  And why the fuck is the audience still here? Why aren’t they running away from all this shit?

  She wondered if maybe the flute had something to do with it, that maybe they were all in some kind of trance and were powerless to move. But then she noticed the looks of amusement etched on their faces, most smiling and even clapping as they watched the mayhem.

  Do they actually think this is all part of the show? Can they really be that stupid?

  Then again, would it be any more stupid to believe there were actually two real-life leprechauns fighting to the death in front of them?

  The leprechaun’s countenance began to darken, and the pained expression he had been wearing a moment before contorted into one of anger and hatred. He flexed his hands as a vaporous green mist ghosted from his fingertips and gusted out from between his teeth.

  It happened so fast, it was little more than a blur.

  Marvin went from standing to being slammed down on his back in an instant, the leprechaun now standing over him. No, not standing. Floating just above him, a verdant aura radiating off of his body like steam.

  Marvin was no longer smiling. He stared up at the leprechaun like a frightened bunny rabbit underneath a snarling wolf.

  “As amusing as this has all been,” the leprechaun said, the playfulness completely gone from his voice now. “I. Want. Me fucking. Gold!”

  In the very same moment he shouted the last word, every stripper still standing exploded as if their bodies had been stuffed with dynamite. Sloppy chunks of flesh slapped the walls and splattered across the floor, spraying the audience with green and red gore. The audience gasped collectively, but still stood in place, still not sure if what they were seeing was real or not.

  There were a few police officers left, but they all cowered on the floor, balled up and whimpering.

  “Did you really think you could defeat me, Marvin me lad?” The leprechaun raised both hands into the air, palms up, and Marvin was lifted off the ground, his stubby legs kicking. “My magic is ancient, timeless! You…you can’t…”

  There was a shriek that blasted from the stage, so loud and sudden that Trinie flinched. The leprechaun blinked rapidly, dropped his hands and seemed to have trouble breathing.

  Marvin plummeted from midair, but just before colliding with the floor, he waved his hands and a green cloud appeared just beneath him, caught him gently and placed him on his feet.

  The leprechaun faced the stage, started to walk toward it, but stumbled instead, almost as if he was drunk. Tendrils of smoke swirled off his body, and a scent like roasting pork filled the air.

  “N-no…me…me gold!”

  That’s when Trinie noticed the open flame onstage, noticed Simon standing there, tugging on something.

  “Mark!” Trinie screamed when she realized it was a spear protruding from Mark’s leg that Simon was pulling on.

  Clumps of gelatinous flesh dripped off the leprechaun’s body as he trudged forward, leaving a trail of green slime in his wake.

  “I imagine you’ll be needing this, lass.” Marvin stood beside her, holding her spear out to her.

  Without asking any questions, Trinie grabbed it with both hands and charged toward the leprechaun.

  When Mark saw Trinie running toward the leprechaun with her spear out in front of her, he sat up, gripped the spear’s shaft with both hands, and helped Simon pull. The pain nearly made him pass out, but he held on, clenched his teeth, and roared.

  It gave some, but still not enough.

  “It’s fucking stuck, man,” Simon whimpered, then cried out and slammed his hand to his bleeding eye, or what used to be his eye. Blood ran from between his fingers and he stumbled back a few steps.

  Byron appeared out of nowhere, nearly falling forward onto Mark. Simon caught him in the last second, cried out in pain, but kept himself and Byron steady.

  “Holy shit, man, I thought you were dead,” Simon said, forcing the words past his clamped teeth.

  The leprechaun bellowed as Trinie’s spear penetrated his back. He fell forward, his liquefying flesh splashing over the floor like split pea soup. Trinie rolled him over with her foot, raised the spear and slammed it down into his chest.

  “Let’s…kill that little…motherfucker…” Byron grimaced as he gripped the spear with both hands, and the three of them pulled with everything they had.

  The spear ripped free, taking strips of meat with it. Blood gushed from Mark’s leg, and he slapped the stage as fresh, hot pain pulsed through his thigh, but he did his best to ignore it, let Simon and Byron help him to his feet.

  The fire, a dark green color, crackled as it danced over the pot of gold, melting the coins into a molten stew. The emerald flames licked the curtain beside them, but didn’t catch, as if the fire was only hungry for gold.

  Simon dashed off for a moment and came back with a spear of his own. Mark rolled off the stage, held his weapon above his head, and limped as fast as he could toward the leprechaun who was climbing his way up the shaft of Trinie’s spear, letting it slide through his chest as he reached for her.

  Trinie cried out, and just as the leprechaun’s melting claw was about to swipe at her face, Mark jammed the point of his spear through the wee creature’s open mouth and slammed him back down.

  The leprechaun choked, clawing at the spear as it spat up gouts of slime.

  Simon slid in beside Mark and thrust his spear down, again and again, stabbing the leprechaun through the chest.

  The leprechaun’s flesh sloughed off its bones, and the three of them never stopped stabbing.

  We’re doing it, Mark thought. We’re fucking winning!

  The chokes and mutters oozing from the leprechaun’s mouth slowly became a chuckle. Its skeleton, a shimmering gold color, began climbing out of the puddle that used to be its body.

  “No no no, fuck this. This is bullshit!” Mark shrieked, jabbing his spear head into the bones over and over. The blows glanced off harmlessly, throwing showers of sparks into the air on impact.

  The golden skeleton guffawed, and with a quick jerking motion was back on its feet. The iron spears flew from Mark, Trinie, and Simon’s grasp, soared over the audience, and stabbed into the far wall.

  “You stole me intellectual property. You stole me gold. I am the motherfucking leprechaun! And I—”

  Marvin dove into the skeleton from over Simon and Trinie’s shoulders. He he
ld the golden flute over his head with both of his green, clawed hands, and he jammed it into the front of the leprechaun’s skull.

  The skeleton bellowed as a wave of green fire exploded from its mouth and mushroomed into the air. It fell backward, splashing in the liquid flesh, grasping the flute.

  “The pot o’ gold,” Marvin said, now on his knees and clutching his stomach. “You…you gotta throw him in with…with the gold.”

  Before Mark could make a move, Simon shoved him out of the way, grabbed the skeleton by the spinal cord.

  “I’ve got this.”

  Simon sprinted across the theater and dove onto the stage. Blood flowed from his eye and down his face, sucking into his nostrils as he gasped for breath. The skeleton writhed and thrashed, but whatever power it had was quickly fading.

  “You want your gold, you son of a bitch?”

  Byron stood by the burning pot, still trying to catch his breath, but when he saw Simon rushing toward him, he quickly ran over, grabbed hold of the leprechaun’s legs. Together they held the wriggling skeleton over the fire and boiling gold.

  “Choke on it, motherfucker.”

  They tossed the leprechaun in and backed away.

  A gurgling scream erupted as the leprechaun splashed from within the pot. The flames brightened from green to gold, and Simon had to look away, to shield his eyes. A strong gust of wind hit him, threw him backward off his feet.

  And then all was quiet.

  Simon propped himself up on his elbows and stared across the stage at the pot. The theater was eerily silent, the only sound Simon’s thumping heart and pulse.

  “Did we do it?” Byron said, lying just beside Simon, grimacing as he sat up. “Is this shit over…like for real over?”

  “I…I don’t know.” Simon rose to his feet and slowly approached the pot. He couldn’t help but expect for the leprechaun, whole again and more terrible and pissed off than ever, to pop out and pounce on him. His eye socket throbbed, and he jammed his hand over it and did his best to ignore the pain.

  The pot was empty. No gold. No leprechaun.

  Mark and Trinie were climbing onto the stage when Simon turned around, carrying an unconscious Marvin between them. Simon couldn’t help but smile despite the torturous agony ripping a hole through his skull.

  Marvin, who had been a full-fledged leprechaun only moments before, seemed to be transforming back to his self, slowly losing the green tint to his skin, his clawed hands shrinking to their normal size.

  None of them spoke. They could only look at each other, each glancing at the other one at a time. Mark pulled Trinie in and kissed her. Simon couldn’t help but grab hold of Byron and pull him into a hug, squeezing him as hard as his weak body would allow.

  And then it came. The sound of applause.

  Simon had completely forgotten about the audience, had completely forgotten about the musical altogether. He, Byron, Mark, and Trinie all turned toward the crowd together as the men and women clapped and whooped and whistled.

  Splattered across the floor were the bodies of police officers and strippers, body parts and innards. Yet the audience cheered, either oblivious of the death surrounding them or convinced the entire thing was some kind of elaborate gag.

  Simon glanced at his friends, shrugged, and took a bow. They all did the same, shaking their heads and smiling.

  “Guys?” Marvin was sitting up now, scratching his head. “Um…anyone want to tell me what in the actual fuck is going on?”

  They all laughed then, each of them grimacing from their countless injuries, but still laughing.

  “S-Simon?”

  The voice came from behind them. Simon didn’t have to turn to know who it was. He had dreamed of that voice calling out his name hundreds of times before, and he turned to find Kay rising to her feet, her hands shaking as they wiped the sweat from her brow.

  Simon ran to her, wrapped one arm around her waist, his other hand still covering his eye. Her lip quivered as she looked into his face.

  “Is it dead? Did you kill it?”

  Simon nodded. “It’s over.”

  Kay pressed her face to Simon’s shoulder and wept, squeezing him tight. Nothing in the world could have possibly felt better.

  The audience continued to cheer, clapping vigorously.

  “Anyone else hungry?” Marvin said, now standing and looking up at them. “I could sure go for some French fries.”

  “Wait…” Mark started.

  “I’m just fucking with you.”

  “Okay, okay. Calm down,” Simon said as he opened the latest issue of Fangoria and placed it on the coffee table.

  Everyone crowded around, Marvin pushing his way past their legs to get a closer look.

  “I can’t believe this shit,” Byron said. “I mean…just holy shit, man.”

  Kay kissed Simon on the cheek, just under his eye patch, then wiped the red lipstick off his skin. “You did it.”

  Mark and Trinie both smiled, shaking their heads as they stared down at the article. A photo of all five of them standing in front of the theater, in full color, took up most of the page. They had added a graphic of the Warwick Davis leprechaun, his face and hands above the theater like some giant specter.

  The title of the article was “Leprecarnage! The story of the making of Leprechaun in the Hood: The Musical.”

  “Hey, that’s my line, man,” Marvin said.

  Below the headline it read: How five horror fans put on the best show Portland has ever seen.

  “At least this is better than the other story about us, right?” Byron said.

  Simon kept the newspaper. The musical was mentioned, but mostly it was about how the Portland Police Department got locked into a deathmatch with a horde of local strippers in the theater while their musical was going on. How the bloody and brutal battle royale left the force decimated, killed all of the strippers, and seriously injured the actors. Though miraculously not a single member of the audience was hurt.

  No mention of the leprechaun in either of the reports.

  “I can’t believe all of those people actually thought all that shit was part of the show,” Trinie said.

  “Well…I was thinking about that,” Simon said.

  “No,” Byron said, crossing his arms and glaring at Simon. “Don’t even fucking say it.”

  “What?”

  “Come on, Simon,” Marvin said. “I turned into a fucking leprechaun, man.”

  “Wait—”

  “Nope. I already know what you’re gonna say,” Byron said. “Leprechaun in the Hood: The Musical was a success. But that was a one-time thing. We’re not doing that shit again.”

  “Hold on—”

  “We don’t even know if the goddamn leprechaun is really dead,” Marvin said.

  “They’re right,” Mark said. “We do that shit again, he might come back. And there’s no way in hell I’m going through that shit again.”

  “Me too! Fuck all that noise,” Trinie chimed in.

  “Will you all just shut the fuck up and listen to me for a second!” Simon took a deep breath, smiled at Kay, who had backed away from him when he raised his voice. “I’m not stupid, okay? You think after all that shit, I’d do it all over again? Shit, I’ll never even wear green again.”

  “So what the fuck are you getting at?” Byron said.

  “Jason X: The Musical.” Simon held his hands out as if picturing the marquee. “Holy shit, it would be perfect.”

  “This motherfucker has lost his mind,” Byron said as he threw his arms in the air and shook his head.

  A knock at the door.

  “Oh come on, guys. Jason Voorhees isn’t a real person. The leprechaun was a mythical creature, it’s different. We can do this, use the publicity from the last—”

  “I love you, Simon,” Marvin said, patting Simon on the knee. “But you can go fuck yourself.”

  “Seriously,” Trinie said.

  Mark just shook his head and snickered to himself.


  Another knock at the door, harder.

  “You gonna get that?” Kay said.

  Simon started toward the door, put his hand on the knob, then turned back to his friends. “You guys can bitch all you want. But we’re doing it. I already wrote the script.”

  He opened the door and a machete chopped down onto his face, splitting his head in two down to the neck. A geyser of blood sprayed, splashed over the ceiling.

  The others screamed as the large figure stepped into the apartment.

  ABOUT THE AUTHORS:

  Adam Cesare’s books include The First One You Expect, Video Night, The Summer Job, Exponential, and Tribesmen. His nonfiction has appeared in Paracinema, Fangoria, The Los Angeles Review of Books and other publications. He lives in Philadelphia and can be found at AdamCesare.com.

  Shane McKenzie is the author of Muerte Con Carne, Pus Junkies, The Bingo Hall, and many other books. He’s also the co-author of Sixty-Five Stirrup Iron Road (with Brian Keene, Edward Lee, Jack Ketchum, and others) and penned the short film “M is for Matador” which will be featured in ABCs of Death 1.5. He also writes comics for Zenescope. Shane lives in Austin, Texas.

  Cameron Pierce is the Wonderland Book Award-winning author of over ten books, including the controversial cult hit Ass Goblins of Auschwitz and the disaster noir novella The Incoming Tide. He’s also the head editor of Lazy Fascist Press and editor of four anthologies, most recently In Heaven, Everything Is Fine: Fiction Inspired by David Lynch. He lives in Portland, Oregon.

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS:

  Special thanks to Shawn Trucks and the Reddit Horror community, J. David Osborne, Matthew Revert, the bizarro family, Jim Agpalza, Sam McCanna, John Skipp, Jesse Lawrence, Gabino Iglesias, Tod Clark, Jennifer Aniston, Brian Trenchard-Smith, and most of all, our families.

  Table of Contents

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