The Dark Lord of Oklahoma

by Ethan Richards

  Then, in an instant, black smoke surrounded him. The smoke faded and the old man was gone.

  Sam and Gavan choked and gagged as the smoke spread.

  "Dentists," said Sam shaking his head as he coughed.

  Gavan looked down at the box. "What do we do now?"

  "I think we must do exactly what the old man said."

  Gavan nodded his head but with an uneasiness in his eyes.

  The two now ran down the hall. Their arms beat the air as they sprinted through the hallway. They sucked in the limited breath from the masks as they ran. Finally, they reached the entrance to the school and burst outside.

  THUM THUM THUM THUM

  The two quickly ducked and covered their heads.

  "What was that?"

  THUM THUM THUM THUM

  A loud, boisterous laugh echoed through the radio.

  Sam and Gavan looked up and they saw him. They saw Dorin.

  "Is that a suit of armor?" asked Gavan.

  "It's like a steam-punk super-hero suit," said Sam.

  Dorin wore an exoskeleton composed of dull, yellow, unfinished metal. The feet of the vessel brought the dwarf up to the height of a man. The exoskeleton did not look futuristic, but the bare bones of an Industrial age exoskeleton. The suit was complete with brass goggles, faded gray-colored metal, and gears that connected to Dorin's chest. To finish off the unique contraption was a Civil-War era Gatling gun which rested on the dwarf's armored shoulder.

  Dorin stood behind the rat road. The weapon remained pointed at the oncoming crowd, and with the aid of the stabilizing devices built into the suit, Dorin was able to move his hands freely and adjust his weapon and other parts of the suit. Gavan and Sam stood in awe of the dwarf's engineering accomplishment, as the miniature figure gracefully walked in the bulky frame. While rough in appearance, Dorin's movement was silent and graceful.

  They were in such awe of Dorin's suit that they did not see his psychobilly-themed brother wielding a Thompson sub-machine gun. Without deliberately aiming, Zorin sprayed a blast from the weapon.

  BRRT BRRT BRRT BRRT BRRT

  The weapon was dangerous, but due to lack of training, the wild burst did not have the same effects that it would have in the hands of the Asher, Chance, or Greenoak. .45mm rounds from the weapon impacted goblins but killed none, and they continued forward. This time Zorin lifted the gun to his shoulder and sprayed again. Two or three went down.

  THUM THUM THUM THUM

  The sound of the Gatling was intimidating but even more intimidating was the gore, the spray of black goblin blood it produced. Instantly three to five fell dead, but many continued forward.

  Zorin threw his weapon inside his rat-rod. Then he hopped into the vehicle and threw the floors open for Sam and Gavan to hop in.

  "We have to get out of here," cried Gavan pointing to the box. "We've got all we need, now let's go."

  Dorin picked up his rate of machine-gun fire and Gavan and Sam ran into the vehicle.

  "What is this?" asked Zorin pointing at the box.

  "It's the reason we came," said Gavan.

  "Where is Mattis?" asked Zorin.

  "I don't know," said Gavan.

  "We're just going to leave him?"

  Gavan paused for a second. "The box. If nothing else, we got to get the box!"

  Dorin cried out in pain before the Gatling gun went silent. Three orcs slammed into his metal suit. No one had seen where they were. These orcs had jumped down from the Picher high school roof and slammed into Dorin.

  One goblin wrapped its wiry body around his armor. Another stabbed down with a makeshift knife composed of glass and a paintbrush handle. The dwarf screamed and jerked his head out of the way. The glass blade came down an exposed area, piercing his left shoulder.

  An orc's arm snaked around his throat. Then a third orc ran towards them, and slammed into Dorin and he fell backward. The orc’s teeth sank into Dorin’s shoulder.

  THUMP

  The orc's head smashed against the ground and the body lay limp. Zorin screamed and jumped out of his customized truck. He sprinted to his brother to help.

  THUMP

  THUMP

  The orc's grip loosened. Its body became limp underneath Dorin's armor. Soon, its dead hand dropped from Dorin’s throat.

  Zorin grabbed one of the orcs and its head fell back unnaturally. He looked up from the dead body he held in his hands. Screams of the other orcs filled the air, and some began to run away. The man who had haunted the orcs' dream now stood in plain sight.

  Dr. Mattis had arrived. He sat bareback on top of a paint-colored horse. An AR-15 equipped with a silencer was slung around his upper body. He still wore the letter jacket, bandana, sunglasses, acid wash jeans, and cowboy boots. But now, he also wore a tactical vest. A cigar hung from his lips.

  "I told you, it's time for you to go," said the dentist.

  "We can't leave without you -"

  Gavan's argument stopped immediately, and he rushed towards the truck, crying "whoa- whoa- whoa!"

  Dick Mattis took the lit cigar from his lips and brought it down to his vest. Now Gavan realized what the vest was: the vest was a band of dynamite that wrapped all around him.

  Dr. Mattis slapped the bottom of his magazine. He pulled back the charging handle and looked in the chamber to make sure the bullet was seated correctly in the rifle's chamber.

  "Now run, you douchebags."

  Gavan and Zorin got into the cab, Sam pushed into the truck, and Dorin hooked his mechanical boot and gloves onto the outside of the vehicle. The engine roared as they accelerated away.

  The dentist stuck the reins into his teeth, both hands on his assault rifle. He dug his boots into the side of the beast and in an instant, horse and rider rushed into the melee. The assault rifle fired. Goblins fell beneath the hooves of the horse and the 5.56 rounds.

  Goblin cries penetrated the sky, but above the commotion could be heard,

  "For Mother Picher!"

  BOOM

  The explosion was deafening. Dorin fell off of the outside and quickly rolled to his side to prevent any injury. He threw his hands over his ears and shook his head as the whole world went silent save for the ringing in his ears. Zorin slammed on the breaks. Sam had jumped into the bed of the truck. When Zorin slammed on his brakes, the speed threw Sam into the back of the cab of the vehicle. The teenager groaned and shook his head as he re-adjusted himself in the bed of the truck. From the bed of the car, he looked back at the school.

  "We're not out of it yet. Look!" cried Sam.

  Trees and buildings began to fall while the streets cracked open. The crater began from the center before spreading out.

  "Get in! Get in!" cried Zorin to his brother.

  Dorin rolled over and stumbled to his feet.

  The ground continued to open up.

  Ungracefully, the dwarf hurled himself into the bed of the rat-rod. Dorin breathed heavily. Blood continued to drain from his shoulder.

  "Watch him, he's going to pass out!" screamed Zorin.

  Sam looked back at the car and furrowed his eyebrows in disbelief.

  "How did you even see that?" asked Sam.

  "I told you, he's my brother! Now take care of him!"

  Obeying the commands, Sam reached out to Dorin. The football player ripped off his own shirt and stuffed the cloth into the wound. Dorin nodded and then both individuals fell forward.

  "Hold on!" screamed Sam, who then tightened the cloth into a knot on top of the wound.

  The engine roared again. The uneven terrain made the ride unbearable. Zorin slammed his foot on the gas. The vehicle over-accelerated and its rear swung forward in a vicious 180-degree cycle. Zorin let go of the wheel, allowing the car to adjust itself, then he mashed his foot on the gas again.

  The crater continued forward. Underneath the truck, the soil began to shake. As they continued forward, a tree fell over. Sam and Dorin looked up. A giant shadow of the tree covered them. It was a few feet above them an
d was coming down hard and fast. Zorin yanked the wheel to the right.

  BAAM

  The tree crashed to the ground. The bark and the limbs collided with the ground with so much force that the tree bounced off the earth before smashing into the ground again.

  "Go! Go! Go!" Sam cried as if this would motivate the dwarf to move faster.

  Something jumped from the branches. A goblin ran out on all fours like an ape. It catapulted off its back legs and landed into the bed of the truck. It acted more like a rabid animal than a sentient being. Ignoring the teenager and the dwarf, it circled inside of the bed, before running over the top and jumping off.

  Zorin jerked the wheel again, this time to avoid hitting the goblin. He missed the monster, but now the crater caught up to them. The back wheels of the rat-rod went down into the cavity. This caught fell off the bed and then bounced over the tailgate. Sam jumped forward and threw his hand over the tailgate reached out and caught Dorin.

  A pitiful cry rang out from the Dorin.

  Sam looked down at his hand which was covered by Dorin's thick beard. With both hands, Sam grabbed the beard and pulled back. The teenager’s feet rested on the tailgate and used all the muscles in his back, arms, and finally his hips as he fell back against the bed.

  Simultaneously, Zorin slammed his foot on the gas, and the customized truck sped out of the pit. Again, the acceleration caught Dorin, and it threw him in the air. Dorin landed in the bed of the truck, pancaking Sam with his industrial suit.

  "Ugh!" Sam groaned as he tried to move the dense dwarf off him.

  "You alright?" screamed Gavan into the back.

  Sam slowly raised his hand into the air and gave a thumbs up. Meanwhile, Dorin groaned as he rolled over and sat in the bed. Both Sam and Dorin looked back at Picher as they drove away.

  The town was filled with sounds of broken glass, and groans of industrial equipment as they twisted and collapsed. The screams of the remaining goblins filled the air. In the center of town, buildings and signed crashed into one another, as the gaping hole expanded and the inside of the center of the city fell below the surface. Various animals that had inhabited the municipality when the populace left began to run. A deformed coyote ran out on his three functional legs from the city. The chaotic sounds became more deafening as walls continued to fall, buildings collapsed and several animals and orcs vainly tried to flee

  Suddenly, the symphony of chaos was no more save for the sound of gasses leaking out from broken hoses. In the back of the truck, Dorin and Sam looked at the scene while Zorin continued to speed away from the toxic town.

  The town was gone.

  The school and the buildings inside had vanished. The giant gorilla statue looked like a concrete vegetable pulled from the ground, with the concrete looking like dirt attached to a root plucked from the soil. The center of Picher had collapsed, falling into an abandoned zinc mine.

  CHAPTER 6: DR. NORWICH’S TAPES,

  PART I

  Sasha Ferrell - Picher, Ok

  Dr. Norwich’s audio-recorded journal -

  March 13, 20--

  I've become somewhat of a celebrity. I'm unsure of my thoughts on this new matter. I have a celebrity client, and by default, I have become a celebrity. My client is the girl who fell in the well. Her name is Sasha Ferrell.

  She has become a state celebrity. The Governor came when she was pulled out of the mine. Everything seemed to be going fine- in fact, more than fine. Sasha's grades were excellent. She was getting letters from boys all over the state. She appeared to be well-liked. Surprisingly, her parents came to me asking for help. I assumed it was a traumatic affair, and she is having problems with her mind processing the events that transpired.

  I asked the parents what the situation was and, oddly enough, I don't think this has anything to do with the fall. They said that, even before the fall, Sasha has been experiencing horrible nightmares. As soon as I spoke to them, their faces were withdrawn, and their eyes swelled with moistures.

  "Nightmares?" I asked.

  They silently nodded, as if the words were too powerful for them to repeat. I could tell they no longer wished to speak of the matter. I must be courteous, but I must be more forceful in our next encounter.

  March 20--

  Sasha, according to her parents, had started to change before the fall. Her interests and her friends had changed. She had been a drama geek and a bit of a longer. She had friends and she was close to them, but she had suddenly become conscious of her social standing with her group of peers. She became very interested in politics and active in "improving her social standing."

  I am an educated man, I do not make unfounded statements, but many politicians, even student politics are slimy. I say this only to state the change. Sasha’s parents and friends had lost her to her new efforts. She was always scribbling notes in her notebook, and at first, it appeared she was studying which was in line with her new-found ambition. But her parents discovered she was not taking notes for class. She was taking notes on all of her peers.

  April 20--

  From my experience, to see this shift in mindset, I believed it was drugs. While most drugs make people indifferent, it was not unheard of for first-timers to become obsessed with work. Sasha’s parents did not go into detail, but they mentioned there had not only been a gradual personality change, but also a physical change in her. They could barely utter the words they were telling me, and the mother was wringing her hands with each word she whispered. I found it very odd, she would whisper this information to me when we were secluded in my room.

  "She has begun to lose weight," Sasha’s mother had tearfully whispered to me.

  I remained sympathetic. I assumed she knew it was drugs but was too hurt to say. People hate the medical profession because, at times, we come across as very cold. It is not unheard of for doctors to be distant from their clients and demonstrate a refusal to listen. I fought with myself not to make a suggestion until I heard more.

  "She has bleached her hair," the mother continued while sobbing. She covered her face in her hands sobbed, "To this unnatural blonde, almost white color."

  "Mrs. Ferrell, I am so sorry. That sounds very painful. May you explain why the hair color upsets you?" I asked as I handed her tissues.

  "It's because," she said, wiping tears from her face, "she's changing. I don't even know where she dyes her hair at. We used to talk, and now she dyes her hair, and I don't even know where"

  Mrs. Ferrell stopped sobbing, both hands in her face. Her long hair hung over her hands, while her husband rubbed her back. He felt pain for his daughter. I could also see he was in pain because his wife was in pain. Mr. Ferrell was older and wiser. He did not rush to solve problems for his wife. Instead, he wanted to hear her concerns first. Mr. Ferrell did not even say anything, not even "it's okay" or "it will get better." He simply ran his hand across her back like a windshield wiper.

  "It's like," she said between whimpers, "it's like sucking the life out of her"

  Again, Mrs. Ferrell stopped, but this time she cried in silence. She placed her wet hand on her husband’s knee. Mr. Ferrell directed his attention from his wife to me, and despite the years of psychiatric work I've done, I could barely take the look he gave me. Sasha’s father was a strong man but his eyes were glossed with so much pain I felt weak. Tears ran from his eyes into his handle-bar mustache, as he gathered his thoughts.

  "We just want our baby back."

  I sat in silence as I watched the couple grieve. Through the years, I have become more hardened which has helped me react in more professional ways. But the Ferrell’s sadness struck through my heart like an arrow. Their sorrow caught me unaware and my silence was not for them, but for me.

  "What if," I proposed, "before I start my sessions with Sasha, we do a drug test."

  The two nodded their heads. I was surprised by their response, and I felt crummy for making the suggestion in the first place. I have learned over the years not to interject myself into
the sessions, or suggest solutions until the end, but I knew the time was appropriate to ask.

  "Do you think, do you think this behavior change may be from drugs?"

  Mrs. Ferrell began to cry some more. Each audible gasp was another arrow through my heart. Her husband continued to soothingly rub her back. I looked at him, and I could see the tears dripping from his mustache. As his face reddened with sorrow, he managed to gather his words.

  "Mister, I wish it were drugs."

  CHAPTER 7: DR. NORWICH’S TAPES,

  PART II

  Sasha Ferrell - Picher, Ok

  Dr. Norwich’s audio-recorded journal

  March 20, 20-- First session with Sasha Ferrell

  Our session went great.

  I puffed my chest for the rest of the day and felt confident. But after reflecting, I realized it was a complete disaster.