American Monsters

by Sezin Koehler

  11:20 P.M.

  The camera retraces their path and runs into the science experiments gone MIA — Lily, NRG, Chamelia, and Secrete — as they return from the bathroom and stop to look at the paintings in the foyer. They get grossed out by the icky people all weird on drugs, and decide to go outside. They see Dentata, Wake, and Uteri dressed as the Powerpuffs, and decide to go over and say hello.

  Chamelia:

  You guys have wonderful costumes!

  Dentata:

  Hey so do you! That’s rad, where did you find it? You look like Mystique from the X-Men!

  Chamelia, blushing a darker turquoise:

  Thanks.

  Uteri:

  You are all so pretty and exotic. Can I feel your costumes? They look so interesting to touch ...

  The women exchange glances and assent.

  Dentata:

  You guys want to join us, we’re about to pass around a joint.

  NRG:

  We’ll join you, but we don’t smoke, if that’s okay.

  Uteri:

  Of course! Hey, let’s make the circle bigger.

  The circle widens and Lily, NRG, Chamelia, and Secrete join Uteri, Dentata, Wake, Barren, Console, Skreem, and the Firebirds: Galactic Canary, Cherry Thrush and Cerulean Amazon. Uteri proceeds to stroke each of the new women in turn. It is the first time that any of the four have been lovingly touched by a human.

  Console:

  Have you guys been drinking the water?

  Lily:

  Yeah, a lot. Why?

  Console:

  Oh, shit. We think that it’s been spiked or something. You know, like those sno-cones at that party. We’re trying not to drink too much, because it’s pretty potent.

  Lily:

  I thought that I had kind of been seeing things, but I wasn’t sure. This is a pretty crazy party.

  Skreem:

  Have you ever done acid before?

  Lily:

  No, I’ve never done anything.

  Skreem, making a space next to her:

  Here, come sit by me, honey. You certainly don’t look old enough to be at something like this. We’ll make sure you’re okay.

  Lily:

  But there are so many young people here. I’d say they are the majority.

  Skreem:

  That doesn’t make any of you safer.

  Lily and Skreem begin bonding, as do the rest of the women, marveling over the possibility that the water could be spiked with something. Definitely hallucinogenic. They discuss the madness of the party and those who were present speculate about the two women that grabbed the lurker earlier. They relay the story to the newcomers, who laugh and laugh.

  11:25 P.M.

  The camera swivels as Trip emerges from the sea of sweating dancers. She looks flushed, energized and very happy.

  Trip, spotting Console and Skreem in the mess of women:

  Wow, new friends!

  They introduce Trip to everyone. She sits down by Console and proceeds to sell Dentata mushrooms. The other women advise Dentata against this because of the acid, but she decides to go ahead anyway. Saline and Dioxin walk right past the group and Barren bolts after them. Barren brings them back to the circle of women.

  Barren:

  These are my friends that I lost earlier!

  Saline:

  Oh wow, excellent costumes! I can’t believe we didn’t even see you guys when we walked by.

  Uteri:

  Come sit down.

  The circle expands farther. Trip signals to Console for a bathroom break. Console gets up, takes her hand and they begin walking inside.

  Skreem:

  Hey, where are you going?

  Trip:

  Just to the bathroom, I’m so overheating.

  Console and Trip wave at the group and continue walking inside. The bathroom is large and empty.

  Console:

  So you ate shrooms tonight, right?

  Trip, washing her face:

  Yeah, why?

  Console:

  Because the water is spiked or something. That cute little Canary girl out there went all weird. I just wanted to warn you.

  Trip:

  I feel fine. Really. Nothing weird. I’m definitely tripping though, and I think that dancing session fed my energy level like a thousand times. I feel great, actually.

  Trip brings her head up from the sink and grabs some paper towels to dry her face with.

  Console:

  Holy shit! Your face!

  Trip:

  What?

  The camera floats behind Trip to capture her face in the mirror. Her hair seems to have grown a few inches, and she has sprouted tufts all over her face. Her teeth have enlarged, and her hairy hands now have claws in lieu of nails. She puts her hands up to her face.

  Trip:

  My hands!

  Console:

  Your face!

  Trip:

  What is it?

  Console:

  Oh my God I don’t know. Cigarette, we need a cigarette to calmly think about this.

  Console takes out her pack of camels and lights one for Trip and herself. Trip whimpers every time she sees her hairy hands.

  Trip, puffing on her cigarette:

  Is it a full moon tonight?

  Console, exhaling smoke in the shape of computer matrix code:

  YES that’s it! FULL MOON!

  Trip, exhaling smoke rings around the moon:

  Please, chill, okay? Just chill.

  Console, taking a puff and blowing it out:

  Sorry, got excited. It’s totally a full moon.

  Trip, taking a puff and blowing it out as she speaks:

  I bet it’s the full moon and the different combinations of hallucinogens I’ve had. Fuck. I must be susceptible to lycanthropy. I wonder if my mom...? Oh shit, what am I talking about? I look like a freak! A freaking werewolf freak!

  Console:

  Don’t cry! No, really, you look seriously cool. I was just surprised at first, but you know, there are no girl werewolves. I mean, have you heard of any?

  Trip:

  Weren’t there some in The Howling?

  Console:

  I mean cool ones, not just lame ass bimbos who got bit by some dude trying to have sex with them or something ridiculous like that.

  They begin to hear a horrible screaming. No, not screaming, squealing. Definitely an animal.

  Trip, looking down at her cigarette:

  Oh my God, it’s the camel! It’s the fucking camel on the cigarette. Oh shit, I’m sorry, camel. I’m so sorry.

  Trip and Console quickly put their cigarettes out and rush out into the foyer.

  11:30 P.M.

  The camera pans the foyer. People are sprawled all over the couches, except for the one where Viking #1, the Dirk Diggler who Barren encountered earlier. He is lying there, dead, and no one comes near him – they think he’s sick and passed out. Chaos and Glamour enter through one of the side doors. The Random Guy is in one of the rooms, ice pack on his crotch. The usual.

  Glamour only met Chaos recently, and they bonded over unseemly situations they had been in with monstrous men. They decided to become watchers. They go to parties, and keep an eye on things for the women that aren’t able to speak for themselves – for whatever synthetic reason that may be. They see Console and recognize her from before, outside. Chaos and Glamour stride over to Console and Trip.

  Chaos:

  Cool werewolf costume.

  Trip, laughing:

  Thanks. I like yours too. Poison Ivy rocks.

  Chaos:

  Werewolves rock. Except there are never any girl versions. Right on.

  Console introduces Trip to Chaos and Glamour. Out of the corner of her eye she sees the glowing ghost, Gaze, she met on the way into the party.

  Console:

  Oh my God!

  Trip:

  What?

  Console:

  Remember the ghost girl we picked up earl
ier? She’s still here, and she looks really pissed off.

  Glamour and Chaos look at each other with a knowing glance. Although, they don’t know.

  Console:

  No, I’m not crazy. I swear to God, this girl was murdered earlier today, and she came here to find her murderer, and I’ll bet that’s him right there. We should watch out...

  The camera follows their gazes to Slash, sitting on a couch next to a rolling girl, trying to convince her to come with him. Gaze stands in front of him, the anger rolls off of her in red waves. She is surprised he doesn’t feel it. Gaze looks around the room, clearly thinking What can I throw? She spots a painting. She floats up and, concentrating her rage, she lifts the painting off of its nail. The girl on the couch, seeing the approaching painting, is startled out of her seat. Slash looks up and the painting smashes over his head. People look around, not sure if they are hallucinating.

  Gaze:

  You son of a bitch. This is what you deserve.

  Unwitting observers watch as he is barraged with paintings. Next, his eyeballs are plucked out, his tongue is bitten off, the nails are slowly pulled from his fingers, and then, finally, he is castrated, sans sedative. His death is prolonged and painful, well deserved. Afterwards, Slash's remains lie bloody and silent. So too is Gaze. Her vengeance performed, she dissolves, and floats upwards through the air. Kaleanathi greets her, and holds her hand through the smog.

  The camera floats back down and returns to Trip, Console, Glamour and Chaos.

  Chaos:

  That was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.

  Glamour:

  Puts my work to shame.

  Chaos:

  I know, right?

  Console:

  She’s gone. I just saw her go. She’s the first ghost I ever could see. It was kind of cool.

  Trip, giving her a hug:

  Dude, that was intense. Let's go back outside, ‘kay? Maybe there’ll be a joint going around.

  Chaos:

  This is one out of control party, I don’t know.

  Trip:

  Shall we go back outside to everyone? I think I’ll feel safer if we are all together out there. This is some weird shit.

  Chaos and Glamour lead the way back to the group.

  11:35 P.M.

  Back at the group by the waterfall, Lily and Skreem have just been talking, and Skreem has agreed to house the four mutant fugitives. The Firebirds are rolling another joint as Chaos, Glamour, Trip, and Console return. The women are all chatting away and have begun exchanging phone numbers.

  Galactic Canary:

  Do you guys want some of this J?

  They pass the joint around and everyone hits it. Everyone’s heads are bobbing to the music. Most of them gave in to thirst and had to drink more of the acid-spiked water. They are managing with only minor visuals, except of course, for those already tripping. The Firebirds get up and begin dancing by the group.

  Chaos:

  Have you guys had any more lurkers?

  Uteri:

  No, I think they’re a network. Not a single guy has come over to us. They’ve been talking and we scare them. Heh heh.

  Chaos:

  What fun is that?

  11:40 P.M.

  The camera jumps up to the roof where Mr. Motel Chain is watching his party over dozens of security camera screens. Bodies writhing in dance, people disappearing into random doors, paintings flinging about of their own volition. This mash is more than Mr. Motel Chain expected. He is looking at the outside screens, by the waterfall. The camera pans over Lily’s face, and Mr. Motel Chain gasps.

  Mr. Motel Chain, picking up the phone:

  She’s here. Security, the cyclops is here. By the waterfall. Bring her to me. NOW.

  He hangs up the phone then goes to his closet for his black robes and mask. The power source is here. It is time to take her, subsume her abilities. Mr. Motel Chain watches as the Security Guards walk up to Lily and her new friends.

  11:41 P.M.

  The camera focuses on Mr. Motel Chain’s security screen and goes through it, emerging on the other side where Lily trips with her friends. The two Security Guards walk up.

  Guard #5:

  Miss, excuse me, Miss, the one dressed as a cyclops. We need you to come with us.

  NRG:

  Can you please tell us what this is about?

  Guard #6:

  It’s classified, Miss. Step aside and let me take the girl.

  Skreem:

  Fuck you. She’s not going anywhere without us. All of us.

  Security Guard #6 sees the futility in taking on all of these pissed off women. He steps aside and gets out his walkie-talkie.

  Guard #6:

  Jim, yeah, I need back-up.

  Jim, over the walkie-talkie:

  Okay, how many?

  Guard #6:

  Send all of them.

  Jim:

  10-4 on that.

  Guard #6, clicking off his phone:

  Wait here. They’re coming to get you, Barbaras.

  11:45 P.M.

  In a minute the rest of the Security Guards show up, in a pack like before, all slobbery and oozy. Giggling hysterically. The women are all roughly herded up the stairs to Mr. Motel Chain’s tower.

  There are always more Hyena Men.

  Every so often, a Guard grabs NRG’s ass or Saline’s boobs, and ends up full of silver shards, or has his hand ruined by the tentacles ejaculated from Saline’s implants.

  Secrete spits on one of them and burns his face.

  Chamelia’s tail trips one down the stairs.

  Uteri knocks a bunch out with her fierce smell.

  Glamour slices a few with her acrylic nails, and the Security Guards don’t reassemble afterwards.

  Chaos threatens a few of the men with castration, scaring off a good number in her low-maintenance way.

  The Firebirds fireball a few.

  Lily pushes one up against the wall and stones him.

  Skreem yells inside one guard's head, and almost knocks herself out as well.

  Trip bites one on the ankle and another on the arm. They run away, whimpering.

  But somehow, there are always more. They keep appearing — or reappearing.

  The camera follows the horde up the winding stairway to Mr. Motel Chain’s tower. It’s like Sleeping Beauty, well, except for the Hyena Men, that is. They arrive at his door, marked with a five pointed star and a mess of symbols. Skulls, books, random scribbles. They are shoved rudely inside the tower chamber. Some are thrown to the floor at his feet.

  Mr. Motel Chain, cloaked and masked:

  Where is she? Where is she... There, grab that one! Bring her to me.

  Lily:

  NO!

  Mr. Motel Chain:

  You are the chosen one, look there to the painting.

  He points to the oils on the wall ― a pyramid, with one eye in its point.

  Mr. Motel Chain:

  It is you. You are the power source. You will perform the ritual.

  The wall that was the painting slides away and another small chamber emerges. It is a device similar to an iron maiden, wherein the person is placed and her blood is drained. Mr. Motel Chain reminds everyone of Darth Vader with his archaic manner of speech, and his voice muffled by the mask.

  Mr. Motel Chain:

  You will perform the ritual. Your blood belongs to me, girl. You are mine. Tie them up. They can watch the sacrifice. We will get your power from your blood, and then, the world is mine.

  Uteri, Dentata, Wake, Barren, Saline, Dioxin, Console, Trip, Skreem, Lily, Chamelia, NRG, Secrete, Glamour, Chaos, Galactic Canary, Cherry Thrush, and Cerulean Amazon:

  No! Fuck off! Get your hands off me, asshole. Stop!

  11:50 P.M.

  Mr. Motel Chain’s henchmen snatch Lily and begin strapping her into the device. One by one the girls are pinned and it seems as if all hope is lost.

  Mr. Motel 6 begins closing the lid, and in that m
oment, all of the women burst out the energies they had stored. They concentrate and focus, and one by one the air around them begins to glow.

  The men around Uteri drop to the floor.

  Saline crushes a few with her breastacles.

  Trip goes for the jugulars.

  NRG is carefully spraying metal pins.

  Chamelia tosses a few from the windows — no more of that tongue-killing stuff for her.

  Out of the blue, Dioxin implodes from the tampon she was wearing, the toxins and the hallucinogenic substances too much poison for her system, causing it to overheat and spontaneously combust. A couple of guards go with her.

  The Firebirds work as a tag team and fire men back down the stairs.

  Glamour and Chaos use their kickboxing classes, and their nails.

  In the chaos, Dentata, Barren, and Skreem run over to Lily and punch-kick out the Security Guards. They unstrap Lily and pull her out of the grotesque contraption.

  Lily:

  It’s him! Get him!

  Wake has been curled in the corner of the room. She is trying to focus her energies on her pelvis. She can spontaneously detach and regenerate her vagina, and when she does it grows into a huge blob capable of devouring everything in its path. She hasn’t had to protect herself in a while — things have been cool up until tonight — but this certainly calls for regeneration. Wake focuses on Mr. Motel Chain. He is waiting for his dirty work to be done for him. Her monstrous birth is prepared, and easily slips out of her body. It slithers its wayover to him. It attaches to his foot and begins devouring him. The pink bubbly ooze spreads over his legs and up his thighs, past his stomach up his chest and finally, his head. He screams and tries to get it off, but it’s too fast and too late. In a moment, Mr. Motel Chain is covered with the blob, suffocating. Eventually the pink blob dissolves into nothing but a pool of water.

  The women look around, stunned and shaken, yet generally okay. The Security Guards back off now that their leader is gone.