Moments later Asher reappeared in the void. He kicked his feet up, falling onto his back and floating suspended in the air. He took a deep breath and exhaled, staring up at the starry sky above him. An asteroid hurtled through space, smashing into a planet and sending chunks of debris sailing out into the endless expanse. Maybe it’s because he was the only one here to see it (with the exception of the space whales), but Asher suddenly felt more lonely than usual.
Anyways, thought Asher, putting a hand to his chin. There’s no time to be lonely, it’s time for girls! Esther had been a good girlfriend (and a brief but terrifying spouse), the true epitome of gentle purity, but Asher didn’t think he was cut out for the church girl type, it seemed like they all wanted to start families at a young age and Asher was not into that, not one bit. Plus, now that he’d ditched the goody-two-shoes, he could start swearing again. After so many years of being a good boy and girding his tongue, he was ready to let loose! “You dumb piece of shoot!” He screamed into space. A space whale bellowed a low tone in response as it flew overhead.
Asher bit his lip, that was unexpected. “Son of a Benjamanite.” He muttered, testing his vocabulary. “You mother of a hardworking trucker.”
Not a single dirty word had been uttered, it seemed Esther had cleaned Asher up more than he’d thought. “Well this vacuums.” He grumbled, floating into a standing position and going to examine the ever-present reel of film that detailed his life and everything before and after. Asher wasn’t going to waste time bemoaning his sanitized vocabulary, it was time to get to work. And by work, he needed to find another hottie to start macking on, ideally one that wasn’t interested in starting a family and wanted to make out before they got married.
XXX
“Hark Gwyneboar,” intoned a pimply boy from onstage, “doth thine yonder truffle break and, uh…line?”
“Hey Ash?” Asked Pete, looking back and forth between his friend and the theater stage where the boy was performing, “what’re we doing at a poetry slam?”
The boy ad-libbed a few more lines, clearly embarrassed and shuffled offstage. He was followed by a smattering of polite if unenthusiastic applause. “I wanted to try something new,” replied Asher. This was officially his fourth time going through high school, and for the sake of his sanity, Asher needed to shake up his routine.
“Uh-huh.” Said Pete with a nod, “But, poetry?”
“Chicks dig poetry,” said Asher with a shrug. As if in response, a cute redhead came up onstage and began reading from a crumpled sheet of paper.
“Oh Rome-Bovine, what am I to thee” Said the girl, her voice clear and powerful even as she gripped her pages nervously. “A filet mignon of love and passion, or simply beef tips dipped in the gravy of casual acquaintance?”
“Maybe you’ve got a point Ash,” replied Pete, staring appreciatively up at the girl as she continued reading. “Think I got a shot with that cutie?”
“I wouldn’t bark up that tree,” said Asher, recognizing the girl as one of his classmates, “she gets pregnant at sixteen and drops out of school to work at Waffle House.”
“Huh?”
“Don’t worry about it,” replied Asher with a dismissive wave.
The girl finished her reading and gave a deep bow, her low-cut shirt causing the boys in attendance to applaud a bit more vigorously than usual.
“I dunno man,” continued Pete, eyes fixed on the redhead as he stood from his seat. “Personally I love Waffle House, so I’m gonna go shoot my shot–”
“Darkness!” Screamed a voice from onstage. Everyone froze, staring wide-eyed at the girl who’d practically leaped onstage. She was tall, railroad thin, and had a mat of frizzy black hair that came down to her waist. She was also donning black eyeliner, black eye polish, a black top, and black shoes, definitely had a theme going. “Woe, the darkness within bubbles and boils!” She continued, practically spitting the line out toward the crowd, “The hand that loves is the one that also hurts. From the dark womb I first emerged, and back to its comforting blackness I shall someday return!”
The girl knelt, picking up a bucket that she’d brought onstage. Before anyone could react, she chucked it toward the crowd, causing dark red liquid to rain across Asher and everyone else in attendance. “Calm down, it’s not real blood,” sighed the girl in annoyance as the audience began to scream. “At least, it’s not my blood.”
Pete was dry retching beside Asher, some of the blood having managed to get in his mouth. Asher wiped the red liquid from his eyes and gave the dark-clad girl an appraising look. Despite how much he racked his brain, Asher couldn’t remember a thing about her. You’d think a girl this quirky and unhinged would’ve stood out in his mind, but then again, Asher knew his younger self would’ve never been caught dead attending a poetry slam. Plus, he’d only ever hung with the popular kids, he and this girl clearly hung in very different social circles.
This chick looks like the complete opposite of Esther, thought Asher. Watching as the girl continued tossing buckets of blood into the audience while screaming about the end of days. Esther had been so straight-laced, so pure, so kind, this girl seemed like…well, the complete opposite. Maybe what I need is a palette cleanser, thought Asher, standing up and approaching the stage while the rest of the student body fled in fear. If nothing else, she seemed hot in a goth sort of way, and it’d be someone interesting to pass the time with. Plus if he was lucky, maybe Asher would find the thing in this girl that all the others had been missing.
“Hey, random question,” inquired Asher, as he hopped onstage, careful not to slip on the pool of blood congealing around the girl. “You got a boyfriend?” Asher usually preferred to be more tactful when it came to pursuing women, but he figured a whacko like this would respond better to a more direct approach.
“The darkness is my lover,” replied the girl, not even making eye contact as she continued showering the rapidly emptying auditorium with buckets of blood. How much blood did this girl have on her?
“Yeah, sure,” replied Asher with a smirk, “so does this darkness guy go to our school or does he visit from out of town?”
Asher had meant it to be a joke, but the girl turned to fix him with a hard stare, her eyes so dark brown, they almost looked black.
“I see your heart, Asher Brandy,” replied the girl, her eyes never leaving his. It’s egotistical and selfish, true, but it’s not dark like mine.”
“Not dark?” Asher had no idea what that meant.
“In short,” replied the girl, lifting her nose with disdain, “You couldn’t handle me.” And with that, the girl dumped a bucket of blood on top of Asher and skipped away, cackling madly as she went.
Asher gasped as the thick, cold blood seeped into this clothing. Yanking the bucket off his head, he watched as the girl skipped out of the auditorium, her frizzy black hair bouncing madly to and fro. As he watched, Asher felt a strange tightness wrap itself around his chest. Had he just asked a girl out…and been rejected?! It was unheard of, inconceivable, impossible to accept! Did this goth freak not realize who she was denying?
The tightness in Asher’s chest quickly gave way to a burning anger. Asher had never been rejected before, he hated the sensation, hated how inadequate it made him feel, and how he wanted to do nothing more than crawl into a corner and cry. But no, he wouldn’t succumb! He was Asher Brandy, he was the heartbreaker, not the other way around!
Asher grinned, a mistake, as his mouth immediately filled with the blood that was still dripping off his forehead. He was angry, humiliated, and covered in someone else’s bodily fluids, but he also felt a feral excitement welling up within him. This girl was a worthy opponent, a challenge to be pursued, conquered, and wed. He’d find a way to make this girl his, after all, he was Asher freakin Brandy, and he had all the time in the world to figure her out.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
XXX
Esther wasn’t too hard to find, having spent all of his past high school experience with her, he had her schedule memorized. “Sup, bible babe?” Cooed Asher as Esther stepped out of class.
“Babe?!” Gasped Esther, eyes wide in terror as she took several steps back, sin gloves adorning her hands.
Shoot! Thought Asher, he and Esther weren’t a couple anymore, hadn’t he done the exact same thing with Sarah? “Uh, just kidding,” he said quickly, “I actually wanted to talk to you because I was having problems with a friend of mine staying on the straight and narrow.” Asher leaned in closer, miming a stage whisper. “I’m pretty sure she’s not saved if you know what I mean.”
Esther was suddenly all business, she’d always had incredible focus when it came to her faith. “How can I help?” She asked, pulling her KJV bible out of her backpack and rapidly flipping through the pages.
XXX
Asher had been rejected by that goth chick because she had said his heart wasn’t dark enough, whatever that meant. Having very little experience with being dark or edgy, Asher figured the smartest course of action would be to ask his former Christian spouse about all the things he shouldn’t do…and then do them. Also, Asher suddenly realized he’d never asked for the creepy goth chick’s name, oops.
“Be sure she doesn’t read Harry Potter,” warned Esther, clutching her bible to her chest, that’s witchcraft. Oh, and also no Call of Duty. Our only duty should be serving God.” Esther gave Asher a pointed look, “Are you writing this all down?”
Asher fought to keep his eyes open, what had begun as an innocent question to score a hottie had turned into a half-hour lecture on how the kid’s show, Veggie Tales, was heralding the coming of the antichrist. “You’ve given me a lot to think about,” replied Asher, slowly edging away from Esther. “Thanks for your help.”
“But we haven’t even discussed the differences between pre and post-millennialism”, whined Esther, shoving her Bible into Asher’s hands. “This is really important information, Asher!”
Doubtful, thought Asher, realizing his clever idea to speak with Esther hadn’t yielded the fruit he’d been hoping for. “I think I better get going,” he continued, placing Esther’s bible back in her hands and practically running away. “Have a great rest of your day, and good luck on your mission trip to Guatemala.”
“Mission trip?” Asked Esther, confused. “But I haven’t told anyone about that yet. Asher didn’t respond, raising his hand in farewell as he retreated from his former spouse.
XXX
Asher did some research of his own, asking around the school about this mystery girl. Turns out, when you shower people with buckets of blood, you tend to make a lasting impression. Asher learned that the girl’s name was Iceland Darkwood, she was a junior and had been doing poetry slams for years, each of the performances being equally creepy and screechy. Some of Iceland’s poems were hung up in the theater room, and Asher noted all of the poems were written in a frenzied, manic-looking scrawl, and he was pretty sure those were bloodstains on the corners of a few of the pages.
“Darkness, darkness, darkness,” said Pete as he read one of her poems aloud, “And then darkness pulled out his darkness and said, it’s darkness time! And he proceeded to darkness all over the place.” Pete looked over at Asher, concerned. “I dunno man, she seems a bit unhinged to me.”
“Oh, she’s totally unhinged,” agreed Asher with a nod.
“And you want to ask her out, why?”
“I like a challenge,” replied Asher, a fire in his eyes. “Plus, she rejected me once already, I can’t let that slide.”
“Whatever you say, dude.” Pete gave a noncommittal shrug and read another poem. “Seems like she’s really into poetry,” he said after a moment, “why don’t you write a poem for her?”
“Not gonna happen,” said Asher, “I refuse to write poetry on principle, that’s woman’s work. Plus,”
Asher reached for and read another poem, the paper was shredded and torn as if it had been mauled by some wild beast. The heart’s flesh is the perfect seedbed from which my dark master can arise…DARKNESS!
“I doubt I could come up with anything this creepy.”
Asher perked up, grinning as he suddenly had a deliciously dark idea. “I’ll see you in a bit Pete,” said Asher, before taking a step backward and re-entering the void.
XXX
Asher was back in school and he was now 15 years old. Nothing around him looked all that different, but he hadn’t expected it to, he’d only made a brief jump into the future, a mere seven months had passed since his conversation with Pete.
Striding back to the theater room, he located the wall of students’ poems and skimmed through them until he spotted Iceland’s familiar manic scrawl. Pulling the poem off the wall, he quickly read it over, nodding in satisfaction when he saw the poem was dated as having been completed only a few days prior. Asher wasn’t going to stoop to the level of writing poetry, but he was more than happy to plagiarize someone else’s work. But then again, if he took the poem to the past and read it before Iceland had even come up with the concept, was that technically theft?
Asher shook his head, dismissing the thought, and busied himself with memorizing the poem. If Iceland didn’t think he was dark enough, he would borrow a page from someone who clearly was, herself. “Fish and chips and battleships,” muttered Asher as he read over the demented poem, several passing students giving him weird looks, “the dead god still dreams, his essence bleeds within your seams…DARKNESS!” No doubt about it, Iceland was a whacko, but pretty soon, she’d be Asher’s whacko.
XXX
Back in the present, er, the past, Asher boldly strode across the auditorium stage and faced the crowd of students sitting out in the stands. He was quite the sight to behold, besides his typical handsome and chiseled features, he was sporting all-black apparel and had even stolen some of his mother’s dark eyeliner. A part of Asher felt ridiculous, dreading the fact he was about to read poetry, but another part of himself also recognized that he was willing to do just about anything for the ladies and probably would’ve done the same thing when he was younger if he’d thought it’d lead to him making out with a girl.
Asher briefly wondered how old he actually was, he was physically 14, but this was his fourth time through high school, he had been married three times, and he’d been in that void floating through time for potentially thousands of years. Am I 50, 1,000, 10,000? Asher shuddered, suppressing the thought as he stepped in front of the microphone, now wasn’t the time for an existential crisis, it was time to land him a hottie.
Peeking down at everyone in attendance, Asher spotted Pete, there to support him, as well as Iceland, arms crossed and looking sour. Asher’s eyes widened slightly as sitting near the very front, looking up at him with a big smile, was Sarah. He guessed news had been circulating through the school that the Asher Brandy was participating in a poetry jam and had apparently gone goth. He smiled, waving down at his first wife, feeling genuinely happy to see her. Even in the dim light of the auditorium, Asher saw Sarah’s face go red. She gave an embarrassed wave back and stared down at her feet.
Anyways thought Asher, taking a stretch and channeling the darkness, or whatever he thought Iceland would say, let’s get this over with. Asher glared out at the crowd, saying nothing, then suddenly, “BLOOD!” He shrieked, causing several people to jump in surprise. “Rivulets of flesh and sinew coalescing in a fetid pool of murk and mire. The virgin welp seeks asylum, but hell and fire against her conspire!”
This went on for several more minutes, Asher’s throat growing hoarse from all the yelling and screeching, the audience looking more and more terrified with each demented syllable he uttered. “Darkness, darkness, darkness!” Asher screamed, voice bellowing through the large auditorium. “Oh yeah, and darkness!” With the poem finished, Asher panted for breath, feeling like he’d just run a mile. No one applauded, no one said anything, they just stared up at Asher, wide-eyed, no one believing what they’d just seen. Asher grimly realized that he’d just committed social suicide with that performance. It was gonna be tough having lunch with the other popular kids this go-around.
“Bravo!” Cheered Iceland, jumping out of her seat and clapping with reckless abandon. “Bravo, bravo!” She repeated, staring directly at Asher, “The blood shall flow indeed Asher Brandy. The flesh is but a construct for our greater purpose!” Asher noted how everyone around Iceland slowly got out of their seats and proceeded to flee for the exit. Weird or not, at least the poem had been well-received by the desired person.
XXX
“Well, that was definitely, uh…yeah.” Pete shrugged, seemingly lost for words. Asher’s friend met him onstage while the remaining students filed out of the auditorium, most of them casting weird looks Asher’s way as they left.
Asher just nodded in response. “That’s an apt way to describe it,” he agreed.
“I didn’t know you were so passionate about poetry, Asher.” Asher turned to see Sarah exiting the crowd and walking toward the stage, a confused smile on her face, like she was trying to be supportive, but didn’t really understand what she’d just watched.
“Thanks,” replied Asher, returning her smile, “did you like it?”
“Well it was a little scary,” Sarah admitted with a shrug, “But I think it’s cool when a guy isn’t afraid to share what he’s interested in.”
Sarah gave a shy smile. Asher felt his heart somersault his chest. He’d always loved the way Sarah’s dimples popped out when she smiled.
“Darkness!” Iceland seemed to appear out of nowhere. Asher jumped as she screamed right in his ear. Does she say that everytime she initiates a conversation? “I was wrong about you Asher Brandy,” continued Iceland, staring directly into his eyes. “I sense dark pools of miasma dwelling just beneath your skin.”
“Uh, thanks.” Asher wasn’t sure what that meant.
In one deft movement, Iceland slipped her arm beneath Asher’s. He gasped, her skin was ice-cold to the touch. “Come Asher,” continued Iceland, pulling him closer, “let us whittle the evening away on talks of the decay of this sacrificial world.”
Then, without giving him a chance to respond, Asher was whisked away, Iceland holding his arm in a vice grip. Asher turned back to Pete and Sarah as he left, Pete looking confused, and Sarah appearing disappointed. “I’ll see you guys later,” called out Asher, before looking back to Iceland who gave him an expectant look, “er, I mean, darkness!”