The Lightning-Struck Heart

by T. J. Klune

  The elderly woman I was talking to stared at me. “Um. You just sat here and started talking and never asked me for my name.”

  “Oh. That’s cool. Or whatever. Your name’s not Ryan is it, because that would fucking suck.”

  “No. Um. My name is. Um. Betty?”

  “Betty! Bet. Tee. Hey. Hey barkeep! Get my friend Betty here another drink, would you? She’s. She’s my friend, ya know?”

  “Oh my goodness,” Betty whispered.

  “It’s cool,” I told her loudly. “They know me. I come here all the time.” I leaned over to her and whispered, “I’ve never been here before. They have no idea who I am.” And then I winked at her. “Gods,” I said, trying to keep my eyes from crossing. “You’re cute for a lady who is older and a lady. Like a sexy grandma. Do you. Like. Do you want to go? I don’t know. Play cards or. Something. Like braid hair and shit. I don’t know. Ya know?”

  “No,” Betty said. “No. I just want to eat my dinner, but you’re leaning in it with your elbows.”

  “Oh no! Oh my gods. Betty. Betty. I’m so sorry. I’m so—are you eating pasta?”

  “I was. Um. Trying to?”

  “And my elbows were in it?”

  “Um. Yes?”

  “So. Would you say it’s… elbow macaroni?”

  “No. Um. It’s… spaghetti? So. It’d be… elbow. Spaghetti?”

  “That’s not a thing,” I told her. “Elbow spaghetti. What even. Gods, you’re so weird. I’m going to go sleep. Thank you for inviting me to your birthday party. Bye.”

  And then I passed out.

  The tenth morning.

  “OH MY gods,” I moaned as I dragged my feet down the road. “Kill me now. Or kill the sun. I don’t care which.”

  “Someone learned a lesson last night,” Gary said, sounding way too chipper while I was obviously dying.

  “Was that before or after he woke up in a bowl of noodles?” Kevin asked. Like a jerk.

  “Spaghetti face!” Tiggy cried. “Wizard Spaghetti Face.”

  “He capitalized it,” Gary said. “Now it’s forever.”

  “That’s a stupid fucking rule,” I grumbled.

  The thirteenth night.

  “SO,” GARY said. “Kevin and I. Need to go into the forest. For. Food.”

  I stared at the both of them. “For food.”

  “Like. Berries. Or something.”

  “Berries,” I repeated.

  “Yes,” Kevin said. “So we can have fruit for breakfast.”

  “Berries.”

  “Forest berries,” Gary said. “From the forest.”

  “Fine,” I said. “I’ll take the first watch. Don’t take long.”

  An hour later, things got gross.

  I was lying by the fire listening to Tiggy snore next to me and watching the stars above when I heard it echoing through the trees.

  At first, I thought it sounded like a ghost eating feral cats.

  And then I thought it might have been monkeys fighting with peeled, wet oranges.

  But then I heard, “OOOOH, KEVIN. OH. MY. FUCKING. GODS. HOW LONG IS YOUR TONGUE?”

  And I said, “Nope. Nope, nope, nope.”

  “OH, MY LOVE, YOU TASTE LIKE THE FINEST AMBROSIA. I WANT TO DRINK YOU DOWN MY THROAT.”

  I threw up a little bit in my mouth.

  “HOW CAN YOU EVEN BEND LIKE THAT?”

  “GARY. GARY. YOU MAKE ME FEEL ALIVE AND I WANT TO DO THINGS TO YOUR ANUS.”

  “Please make this just be a nightmare,” I whispered. “I’m begging you.”

  “YOU CAN DO ANYTHING TO MY ANUS.”

  “WHO’S BEEN A BAD UNICORN? HAVE YOU BEEN A BAD UNICORN?”

  “Please say no,” I said. “Please say no.”

  “YES. YES. I’VE BEEN SUCH A BAD UNICORN.”

  “Whyyyyy?” I moaned as I pulled my blanket over my head.

  “BAD UNICORNS GET PUNISHED. DID YOU KNOW THAT?”

  “YES! YES, I KNEW!”

  “YES, WHAT?”

  “HUH? YES, WHAT WHAT?”

  “NO. YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO SAY YES, SIR.”

  “OH. WE’RE REALLY GOING THERE?”

  “Don’t go there,” I muttered rocking back and forth. “Don’t go there.”

  “WELL, YEAH. IF YOU’VE BEEN A BAD UNICORN. THAT’S KIND OF THE RULES.”

  “WHOSE RULES?”

  “KEVIN’S RULES FOR A GOOD BOUT OF FUCKING.”

  “He shouldn’t follow those rules,” I told a sleeping Tiggy.

  “OH. OKAY. I GUESS I CAN DO THAT. IT’S BEEN A WHILE. MY SAFEWORD IS MURIEL. MY WORD TO GIVE ME A MOMENT TO BREATHE IS FONDUE. MY WORD TO KEEP ON GOING BECAUSE EVERYTHING IS AMAZING IS SAM.”

  “Oh, come on!” I said into my hands.

  Monkeys renewed their wet orange fight with feral-cat-eating ghosts.

  “WHO IS MY BAD UNICORN?”

  “I AM, SIR. I AM YOUR BAD UNICORN. SPANK ME WITH YOUR MOUTH.”

  “IS THIS OKAY? DOES THIS FEEL GOOD?”

  “SAM. SAAAAAAAM. I AM SO SAM RIGHT NOW.”

  “This is not okay,” I cried. “Nothing about this is okay.”

  Tiggy continued to snore.

  “YOU NAUGHTY UNICORN. I’M GOING TO HAVE TO TEACH YOU A LESSON IN RESPECT.”

  “MAKE ME RESPECT YOU SO HARD. SAM, I AM. SAMSAMSAMSAM. I AM—WHAT IS THAT? IS THAT YOUR PENIS? HOLY MOTHER OF THE GODS, I DON’T KNOW IF THAT IS GOING TO FIT IN ME.”

  “Cheesy dicks and candlesticks and everything you need!” I tried to sing. It came out broken and sounding like I was dying. Because I was.

  “OH, THANK YOU, MY HEART. IT’S ALWAYS AFFIRMING WHEN SOMEONE TELLS YOU YOUR COCK IS BIGGER THAN ANYTHING THEY’VE EVER SEEN.”

  “UM. I DIDN’T QUITE SAY IT LIKE THAT. SIR. OOOOOH. I DIDN’T EVEN KNOW YOU COULD DO THAT. I AM SO FUCKING SAM RIGHT NOW. I AM THE SAMMIEST I HAVE EVER BEEN. SAM ME ALL YOU WANT, YOU DIRTY BASTARD.”

  It went on for another four hours.

  The fourteenth morning.

  “BERRIES?” TIGGY asked as he looked down at his oatmeal.

  “We couldn’t find any,” Gary said.

  “We looked long and hard,” Kevin said. “Very long. And very hard.”

  I let out a wail because why did this have to happen to me?

  “Sam?” Gary asked. “You okay? You look… clammy.”

  “I’ve heard things,” I whispered, clutching my hands at my chest. “I’ve heard things.”

  “What things?”

  “Things,” I breathed.

  “Oh,” Gary said, sharing a fond look with Kevin. “I see what this is.”

  “Sam?” Kevin said. “We should talk about this, okay, buddy?”

  “No,” I said. “Never.”

  “Sam,” Gary said gently. “You see, when a dragon loves a unicorn, they have a special hug they do in the forest.”

  “And sometimes,” Kevin said, rubbing my back with his claws, “the dragon likes to lick the unicorn’s asshole until he—”

  I ran screaming down the road.

  The nineteenth day.

  “AND A further thing,” I said as we walked down the Old Road. “I don’t even care about him that much, anyway.”

  “Uh-huh,” Gary said.

  “Right? It’s not like I actually developed real feelings for him or anything. It was just an infatuation that I can so easily get over. It didn’t matter. It was never a thing.”

  “Right,” Gary said. “Get over. Like you’ve been saying. For the last three hours.”

  “Because I don’t need a man to define me,” I said. “I am a strong, independent wizard. I’ll be my own cornerstone.”

  “Don’t need no mens,” Tiggy said.

  “Exactly,” I said. “I don’t. I have my boys with me, and we’re going to go on adventures and do cool shit like fight manticores and discover caves and eat disgusting regional delicacies. Because I’m young and hung and full of magic.”

  “Sam,” Gary said kindly. “I understand what you’re sayi
ng. I really do. But let me give you some advice from the perspective of someone in a long-term relationship.”

  “You’ve been together for five days.”

  “And that’s five days longer than you.”

  “Hey, buddy,” Kevin said. “Just listen to him, okay? We both just want to make sure you don’t make any rash decisions.”

  “I’m not. I’m grown up and every decision I make is the right one because I’m making it based upon all the feelings in my chest and brain.”

  “Kids,” Gary said, shaking his head. “They want to grow up so fast.”

  “Remember when he was younger?” Kevin said with a warm chuckle. “He was at my keep and kept saying things like, You can’t take any of your stuff that’s obviously important to you because what I say goes and I’m a giant dick-brained motherfucker.”

  “I’m pretty sure I never said that,” I told them, but they ignored me. “And we were at your keep two weeks ago!”

  “Pretty soon, he’s going to want to go off on his own,” Gary said, sounding upset. “Oh, Kevin. What are we going to do when he’s ready to leave?”

  “What is even happening right now?”

  “Shhh,” Kevin said to Gary, brushing their snouts together. “It’s okay. You’ve been such a good mother to him. You’ll see. He’ll do good things. And if he doesn’t, we’ll be there to pick up the pieces because that’s what parents do.”

  Gary started crying and pushed his face against mine. “You listen to me, okay?” he said, sniffing loudly in my ear. “You follow your heart because one day, it’ll lead you home. You’ve been such a good son.”

  “Did you guys get high?” I asked them. “Like, super freaking high?”

  Gary began to cry in earnest as Kevin rumbled low and licked the side of my face.

  “Tiggy!” I yelled. “Help me! They’ve gone crazy. Save me!”

  Tiggy looked conflicted as Gary sobbed in my ear and Kevin stroked his back and murmured soothing things to him. “We sad?” Tiggy asked.

  “No—”

  “Yes,” Gary wailed. “Sam is growing up and he’s going to move out and have orgies and do drugs and it’ll be all my fault.”

  Then Tiggy started crying and hugging me, begging me not to have orgies and do drugs. “No, Sam,” he said, wiping his face on mine. “No mushrooms and gang bangs.”

  People on the Old Road gave us a wide berth as they passed us by, no matter how much I pleaded with them to rescue me.

  The twenty-third morning.

  I WAS a good distance into the Dark Woods, trying to find a spot to take a leak where I wouldn’t be able to hear Gary and Kevin talking about how they were planning on adopting at least four Pomeranians. I thought I’d found the perfect tree and was giving good consideration to potentially rubbing one out after I pissed, when it happened.

  “Aha,” the Dark wizard shouted as he jumped out from behind the tree. “I bet you weren’t expecting to see me.”

  “Um,” I said. “I don’t know who you are.” There went that erection. Gods. Was it too much to ask for a little Sam time?

  The Dark looked slightly offended. “Seriously?”

  “Sorry,” I said. “You all look the same to me.”

  “Rude,” he said. “That’s racist.”

  “Um. No, it’s not. You and are I are the same race. If you were to ride a unicorn, that’s racism.”

  “How is that racist?” he asked.

  “Because it’s mean,” I explained.

  “But that’s not even the basis for—” He cut himself off and took a deep breath. “You know what? No. I’ve heard about you. You start talking and everyone gets confused and people start wanting to have sex with you and get turned into deck chairs.”

  I sighed. “It was supposed to be lawn chairs. And I think the stories about me are greatly exaggerated.”

  “So did you or did you not take down four of my brothers in the City of Lockes?”

  “Oh. Well. That part was true.”

  “And did you or did you not send a pack of fire geckos after two more of my brothers?”

  “Yeah. That was me.”

  “And did you or did you not kill Lartin the Dark Leaf?”

  “No,” I said. “I didn’t.”

  “What?” he said.

  “I didn’t kill him.”

  “You did,” he insisted.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Then who did?”

  “My half-giant best friend.”

  “Oh,” he said. “Well, same difference.”

  “Sort of, I guess.”

  “My name is—”

  “Don’t care,” I said.

  He glared at me. “Don’t be rude.”

  I sighed. “Sorry. Go ahead.”

  “My name is Wan the Dark Hunter,” he said, squaring his shoulders.

  I waited.

  He looked at me, clearly expecting a reaction.

  I waited some more.

  “So,” he said, “that name should have inspired fear in you. You don’t look very fearful.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know who you are.” And I didn’t. I’d never seen him before or heard his name. I thought he was probably a few years older than me. He was handsome, in a devilish way, his dark goatee trimmed perfectly, nary a hair out of place. He had tattoos on his arms and I recognized Dark marks, signifying he was at a higher level than the other Darks I’d faced. That was okay with me.

  “Seriously?” he said. “Never heard of me?”

  “Nope.”

  “That sucks,” he said. “I thought I was really making a name for myself.”

  “Eh. What can you do?”

  Wan rolled his eyes. “Of course you say it like that. Everyone knows who you are.”

  “That’s not my fault,” I said. “My mom says it’s my face.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “I guess I just have one of those faces.”

  “So you’re saying that my face isn’t good enough?”

  “No,” I said. “You’re really cute.” And he was. Too bad he was evil.

  He flushed. “Shut up. No, I’m not.”

  “Yeah, you are. I like your goatee. It’s very… trimmed.”

  “Thanks,” he said, preening a bit. “I grew it myself.” Then he winced. “Wow, that sounded awkward.”

  “It was pretty awkward,” I agreed. “Adorable, though.”

  “Well. This has been just lovely. Maybe we could….” He closed his eyes. Took a breath. Opened his eyes again. “How in the fuck do you do that?”

  “Yeah. I don’t really know. Weird, right?”

  “People fear me,” he said.

  “I don’t.”

  “Most do.”

  “Oh,” I said. “That’s cool. So, like, are you going to monologue?”

  His eyes narrowed. “Monologue.”

  “Villains tend to broadcast their plans and reasons when they capture me.”

  “I haven’t captured you yet.”

  “Fair point,” I said. “Are you going to try?”

  “Lartin was my friend,” he said, fingers twitching. I could feel his magic gathering.

  “Really?” I said, arching an eyebrow. “That guy, man. What was his deal? All you Darks seemed to be all up in his shit.”

  “He was nice but he liked to hug for too long before his hands started to wander,” Wan said. “He was one of the first Darks. His father didn’t—”

  “Oh no!”

  “What?”

  “I just realized I don’t care. Are you done yet? You said you weren’t going to monologue.”

  “I’m not.”

  “It’s still monologuing when you do it on someone else’s behalf,” I explained.

  “How has no one killed you yet?” he asked, sounding incredulous. “I’ve only known you for five minutes and I want to murder you.”

  “Rude,” I said. “Don’t lie. You want some of this.”

  He flushed again.

&nbs
p; “Ha,” I said. “No thanks.”

  “Honestly,” he said. “All you do is talk. I don’t see what the big deal is. You may not know me, but I’ve got the backing of the Dark wizards of the Dark Woods. Those that know me fear my name. I am a hunter, and you are the hunted. Your head will be mine.”

  “I am a hunter and you are the hunted,” I mocked. “Gods. That was just awful.”

  “Hey!” Wan said. “That’s rude. I worked hard on that.”

  “Well, yeah. But it’s so cliché.”

  “You don’t mess with classics, I guess.”

  “The Darks, right?” I said. “That’s what you have?”