The Place in Between

by Reverend Steven Rage

  Donna wasn’t thinking of mock chicken fajitas, or tunnel shrimp, or any of that. She just ran with a panic and without thinking, straight into the all enveloping darkness. She ended up in an alcove that was a one-way blind. She had a large pack of tunnel rats snapping at her heels. When she turned around, she could see their glowing eyes. A light-show that bit, tasted, scrambled up her legs. The rats gnawed on her as though they’d never tasted flesh before. Their instinct was feral and all-consuming. Donna didn’t like that; not one bit.

  Donna looked scared when I grabbed her. She was kicking and screaming, raining ineffective blows upon me. She was quite out of her head by this time, the poor thing. Sparkle couldn’t drive, having nothing but ornamental stumpy wings with useless, miniscule digits at the end, but she made a nice look-out. Neither one of us could tell if it was us, or the tunnel rats that were hanging off her like bats on cattle, that was freaking her out so. From the car lights that could just barely penetrate far enough for me to make her out, pitiable Donna was lit-up and glowing with green rat eyes and her own red blood. She was a spitting image of a Christmas tree in Satan’s recreation room.

  It could have been us that frightened her. My bet would have to be on the tunnel rats.

  While Sparkle waited by Donna’s car, I came wading in to the alcove. I was kicking and stomping the tunnel rats with wild abandon. Finally, enough of them were killed or injured, so that the horde’s attention was on the pathway of least resistance, which was to turn tail on their own kind. The tunnel rats dragged off the dead and dying. They went fiercely to a safe, darkened recess around a corner away from us. I picked Donna up off the ground, peeled off the remaining furry leeches and flung her over my shoulder like a fifty kilogram sack of potatoes. She did nothing to resist, so it was dead weight I was carrying. Bennie’s body is very strong and the car door was open. I tossed her in, Sparkle hopped in and I got behind the wheel. I pulled quickly into the stream of slow traffic while Donna kept thanking me, over and over.

  It was like she thought I was rescuing her, or something. Huh.

  * * * * *

  So, I had her gagged and hanging upside down. We were in her flat and she was suspended by her ankles. I had bound her wrists tightly behind her back. She was doing lazy, hazy, crazy half-circles above a big, empty punch bowl. When I slit her throat, she bled out in under a minute.

  By this time the two of us understood one another. I was in love, certainly. I don’t know if she was with me. It didn’t matter, because we two were joined and she accepted the inevitability of it all. She gobbled up Donna’s spilled blood as quickly as I had consumed Uncle Elron’s. I did have some of Donna’s blood myself, of course. It was necessary in order to further join Sparkle and to enhance ever further our unholy alliance. The Headliner consumed the vast bulk of it, whilst I de-boned 3D’s carcass. I needed a suit to get past the eye-dent.

  We both snorted some more of the twins’ potent tears. We then had some wild, bizarre sex that did not transport us anywhere, it seemed. It did, however, make time bend and twist on us. Hours had passed that began to feel like whole days. It was enchanting in and of itself, but we both felt it was still a distraction. We had the occasion, but it seemed to us that pursuing sexual gratification was squandering the gift of time. We were wasting it on mere amusements. There was still more work to be done.

  The de-boned carcass of Donna would fit, if I stretched it taut enough, like a suit over the body of Slow Bennie. Ingesting her gave both Sparkle and myself the directions to the big farm.

  We made our way out of Donna’s flat and to her car. I had on the carcass suit, wearing it as a hooded cloak. When we get near, I would tug it over my face so that her dead eyes would register and we would be let in. I hoped.

  I so wanted to meet the Creator. I longed to speak to him. I needed to see where he lived and how he lived. Then? Well, then I am going to kill him. Don’t you see? How many chances does one get to kill their god? I don’t know, but I will only need the one.

  Don’t you dare judge me.

  * * * * *

  Uncle Tugmunkee was put out. He was ready to seize a little time for himself when the visitors announced their arrival. The Good Doctor was up top, out in the gardens, amusing himself. It was Tug’s nap time. He’d already cleared his schedule with The Good Doctor and he planned on taking a trip with a line or two of Crosstown Traffic. But now someone was at the door.

  “Bother!” Tug exclaimed. He sighed deep, resinedly and chimp-knuckled his irritated way over to an adjacent wall-screen. “Who’s there?” he asked, doing nothing to disguise his aggravation. The screen lit up with the eye-dent of The Good Doctor’s niece and Sparkle, the sex performer. “Open the line,” Tug ordered the screen. “What the heck do they want?” to himself.

  * * * * *

  The Good Doctor was up top in the gardens. He had just teleported home to the farm from Hell’s Mouth. He still had on his travel slippers and his 9s were still strapped. The Good Doctor strolled leisurely about, Billy on his heels like an overgrown, hoofed puppy. He absently scratched Billy’s chinny-chin-chin and hummed softly to himself. He pulled the silver gun from its holster and placed it in his mouth. The Good Doctor fired a blast of Uptown Girl down the back of his throat. He held the persuasive spray for a long count. He exhaled slowly after holstering the weapon. The Good Doctor grabbed a waiting Billy by the ears.

  “Not enough, I need more,” he said. The Good Doctor dragged the silver 9 out again and repeated the ritual. “Nothing seems to satisfy,” he mumbled, the sprint concentrating. Billy sat back on his haunches and waited for the Creator to draw it out. “To breathe, to feel, to know I’m alive…” When he did, Billy sucked and nibbled at it until The Good Doctor’s expulsion covered his goat-face. Billy licked his goatee clean. “Thank you, Billy,” The Good doctor replied and asked the goat-guy to check in on the gnomes. They had been ill of late. The Good Doctor was understandably concerned. The Devil’s in the details.

  * * * * *

  At fifteen miles per hour it took forever to get to the farm. The upside being that Sparkle and I were able to get good and topped up on Uptown. We drove toward the center where the underground entrance to the farm waited for us.

  Sparkle obliged me while I drove. Bennie’s left hand was on the steering wheel and his right I’d thrust right up her tiny little stink-hole. I could feel an egg forming. I crushed the shell inside her, making her twitch and moan. I dragged out the slimy mess and spread it like marmalade on my stick. I would have forced her to eat it all, but she did it on her own.

  I love her with all my heart.

  * * * * *

  We came to the underground entrance to the farm. I yanked down Donna’s face, hiding my eyes behind Bennie’s, behind hers. The eye-dent scanned all of ours, including Sparkle’s.

  So far, so good.

  * * * * *

  “What do they want?”

  “Doctor, Sir, they say there has been problems with Crosstown Traffic. There’s been some serious complaints.”

  “What sort of complaints? Violence?”

  “Yes, that’s what they are saying, but they are refusing to elaborate,” Tug told The Good Doctor. “Donna and Sparkle will speak only to you, Good Sir.”

  The Good Doctor thought a moment.

  “Very well, Tug,” he replied. “Send them up.”

  * * * * *

  Billy heard the commotion from inside the confines of the root garden, where the gnomes dwelled. There is danger lurking and it is dreadfully nearby. He snuck to the very edge of a hedgerow. He peered carefully around the corner.

  * * * * *

  Sparkle was outside Donna’s car when Uncle Tugmunkee opened the inside door. We had already pulled into the garage and parked. I’d slunk low, very low down in the front seat as the garage door slid shut behind me. Only Donna’s head that I wore as a hat showed above the dashboard. Tug held the door for Sparkle. When the chimp’s back was turned, I slipped quickly and quietly out. Taking
unfair advantage of Tug’s being a gentleman, despite being a chimp, I came up on him hard and fast as he let Sparkle hop up the stairs. I’d shucked the Donna cloak as I ran at him. He turned and was too startled. Tug could not react in time to get inside and secure-lock the door. I knew, gentleman or no, how strong chimpanzees were. I put the point of my blade under his chin. I pushed him into the domicile, applying enough wicked pressure to puncture his thick hide. I got Tug off balance enough to force him in the interior. Sparkle shut the door with her beak as soon as the chimp was in. I spun around and got behind him, pushing all the while up on the blade. By merely touching the bald chimp I knew he was also in on the Crosstown Traffic gang. And knowing that meant Sparkle and I will be having chimp for supper tonight.

  But first things first.

  “The Good Doctor, please,” I said, hauling him deeper into the residence, trying to keep the bastard tilted. Heaven help me if Uncle Tugmunkee got his feet firmly planted. I had to show him who’s boss, so I traced the blade along his jaw line, opening him up a touch. He winced and I put the point back where I had it.

  “What do you want?” he asked and I bore down on the blade, digging in ever deeper.

  “I already told you what I wanted.” Imagine that: the early work trying to out-smart the opus.

  Cheeky.

  “Okay, then who are you?” he asked, before foolishly adding: “No need to introduce her. I have met this whore on previous occasions.”

  I cuffed the chimp in the right kidney, hard.

  “Say you’re sorry to my True Love, or I will peel the flesh from your bones, monkey.”

  “I apologize,” Tug wisely and immediately replied. He was wincing from the pain. The chimp will pee blood before this day has concluded.

  “Where is he?” I reiterated. I dug the knife in a bit deeper, for good measure.

  “Up top,” Tug replied.

  “Show me,” I ordered. He did so.

  * * * * *

  Billy came slowly, carefully forward. He couldn’t figure out all the details and consequences of the play that was acting out before him in the courtyard. But he, like all of The Good Doctor’s creations, was hard wired to shield the scientist from harm. The nice chicken lady and the blood-drenched man he’d never seen before seemed to Billy as though they meant severe damage.

  Billy was bothered because he had never in his life felt fear from The Good Doctor. Billy must do what he had to save him.

  Closer now…

  * * * * *

  The Good Doctor sensed them, before he saw them. Almost as if the Mighty One had whispered in his ear, he turned hauling out the black 20 shot nine mm. He had it pointing deadly at us. He stepped forward frowning all the way.

  “By all means, keep coming, Father,” I told him, wrenching fiercely on Tug. “If you want your manservant bled, that is.”

  He stopped, no doubt noting Tug in pain and the sheen of blood that was drip-dropping down his bare chimp chest.

  “What’s the meaning of this?” he asked, still pointing the gun. I decided to duck down, hiding myself behind Tug’s squat body. If the Creator wanted to take a shot at his creations, he was going to have to shoot through Tug to get to me.

  “You don’t recognize me, Father?” I asked him.

  “I have never seen you before, young man,” he replied, cocking his head and eyeing me quizzically. “Why do you refer to me as Father? A show of respect, perhaps?”

  “A literal representation, Father,” I explained. “I am the manifestation of the tears.”

  “Tears?” he wondered. Then he smiled. The Good Doctor said: “‘I beheld the wretch – the miserable monster whom I had created’,” he paused then added, “Of course, the tears.”

  “You seem to have put it all together,” I commented, “and in short order, too.” The Good Doctor was a genius.

  * * * * *

  Sparkle stood nearby, staring fixedly at The Good Doctor. My Creator, my Nemesis.

  “Just look at him, will you,” my True Love mumbled this nonsense.

  “What?” I said. Perhaps I didn’t hear Sparkle plainly. Perhaps… “What did you say?”

  Without even looking at me she replied: “Oh, shut up. I wasn’t talking to you.”

  And just like that, I was yesterday’s news. She wasn’t talking to me, or looking at me. The Good Doctor smiled at her and smirked at me. I got mad at that, I did. Sparkle just cooed. I got distracted. I was going to get them both, but out of nowhere, I got hit from behind. I flew through the air, ass over tea kettle.

  Sparkle wasn’t talking to me…

  * * * * *

  Uncle Tugmunkee’s throat got slit as the intruder flew through the air. Billy had the presence of mind to use the same horns that head-butted Slow Bennie to nudge and push the chimp toward The Good Doctor. Sparkle ran over to him on her own accord. She began rubbing herself unabashedly and moaning.

  The Good Doctor knelt beside Tug, staunching the chimp’s free flow of blood. The knife wound was deep and painful, but it was nowhere near fatal.

  “We need to move,” The Good Doctor stated.

  “Why, my darling?” asked Sparkle.

  The intruder shakily got to his feet. He looked as angry as one could get, seeing his True Love jump ship at the drop of a hat.

  “That’s why,” The Good Doctor replied. They all glanced over at Slow Bennie. He grunted something wild and unnatural; guttural. He began stomping over to the group. He had the bloody knife pointing toward them and was following it rather quickly. Slow Bennie looked dangerous and determined. “Can you move, Tug?”

  “Yes, Dr. Sir,” Tug replied, standing fast.

  “Good. Then let’s get behind the retaining wall as fast as we can manage.”

  They started moving, but so did Bennie. And he was gaining on them quickly.

  * * * * *

  Tug, Billy, Sparkle and The Good Doctor hid behind a wall. They could hear Slow Bennie moving closer. He sounded furious and way beyond any point of reason. Tug and Billy were with it enough to be frightened, but Sparkle did nothing to help out except for making moon eyes of obvious love at The Good Doctor, who, fortunately for all concerned, had the presence of mind to order the force-field to flash-freeze the intruder.

  After the frigid blast had dissipated enough to keep from doing the old gentleman any severe damage, The Good Doctor came out from behind the wall. The rest of them peeked around the edge, or over the top of the barrier. The Good Doctor began firing. He emptied the entire 20 shot clip into Slow Bennie.

  Satan laughing spreads his wings…

  * * * * *

  And that was all she wrote for me.

  It was the goat that did it to me. It came out of nowhere, taking unfair advantage of my disturbance and commotion, knocking me down. Then, from my unfortunate seated position, I had the distinct displeasure of seeing my One and Only drop me for the Father like a bad habit. Oh, well. I am nothing if not resilient. Time for some good old-fashioned righteous retribution.

  I stand, spitting out some anger and venom. I start stomping toward them. They ran, all of them, from me. Instead of heading toward the house and some semblance of real safety, they opted to hide behind a vine-encrusted wall. Now, why would they go and do something foolish like that?

  I heard Father shout out something about an intruder, me presumably, and then I froze; dead in my tracks.

  I knew nothing, no more. Mine was the shortest life in the history of ever. Well, well, why don’t you look at me, huh? Just falling to pieces.

  Ridiculous.

  ACTA EST FABULA

  Juggling is sometimes called the art of controlling patterns, controlling patterns in time and space.”

  Ronald Graham

  It’s all about keeping all the balls in the air. Not every person can do it, but it is a skill that is crucial. By gum, if you are going to be a despot, be a good one. Juggle, baby! Do it like your fool life depends on it.

  * * * * *

  When I am bor
n this final time, my Father holds me while Mother cracks open my egg. Father pulls apart the shell and Mother eats the placenta I am encased in. I am born fully aware, both of my surroundings and of myself. I know who I am, what I am and where I come from. I am The Monster in its final incarnation of Crosstown Traffic. I am the tears of the twins, fully realized.

  I’m not quite certain if Father and Mother realize what I am. I do know that The Good Doctor and Sparkle are my parents and that they will both love me, their child; down to their last dying breath.

  I look like a perfect melding of them both. I have feathers mixed with hair instead of only hair. They are pretty much in the same locations on my person as you would find anyone’s hair. I know Mother will have them twisted together, when they grow out. She will fashion silver-black feather sprouted dread-locks. You will have never seen the likes, trust me.

  My eyes are quite human but they are over-large. These eyes rest a little bit closer to my recessed ears than my all-human counterparts. My eyes move independently of each other. I can see in more than one direction, so don’t ever try and sneak up on me son…can’t be done.

  I have human lips stretched over an upper and lower beak which replaces the need for human teeth. I can snap off your fingers without issue. I will have to learn to be extremely careful with my sensitive human tongue. I’m an omnivore. I can and will eat anything and thrive on it all.