Category: Sept2018

“Alright, I’ll get that in for you,” the waitress smiled at the three men, and walked to the back. The idled in silence for a minute before Jack sighed.

“Well?” He gestured at Ronald. “You’re the one that called us here. Why?” The redheaded clown shrugged and blew the wrapper off his straw at the King. Both he and Jack laughed while the King glared at them and dusted the piece of trash off his lap.

“I’ve been thinking about how long we’ve all been at this,” he took a sip through his straw. “I don’t know, maybe it’s because I’m getting old. But why do we always have to be in competition with each other, you know?’ The King laughed.

“You’re not getting old, Ron. You’re just wallowing because Wendy left you for Carl,” he laughed harder.

“Take it easy,” Jack looked at the King. “It wasn’t too long ago you were crying every time you saw a soft serve cone because they reminded you of D. Queen.” Then, Jack placed a hand on Ronald’s shoulder. “Not competing all the time sounds great, but you wouldn’t have called us here if you didn’t have an idea. So, what’s the plan?” he asked. Ronald nodded.

“Thanks, yeah. I’ve been thinking about an alliance,” the clown said.

“We tried that already. It didn’t work,” the King dismissed the idea immediately.

“It didn’t work because there were too many people involved,” Ronald said.

“Yeah, too many people named Arby,” Jack replied. All three of them laughed for several seconds, but Ronald spoke up again once the laughter faded.

“Yeah, he’s not the crispiest fry in the bag. But the point stands, I wanted to start small. That’s why you two are here.”

“Did you think this through any further than, ‘Oh I want an alliance!'” the King asked with his usual condescension. Ronald nodded again.

“I did. I put a lot of thought into it.” Ronald spread his arms wide and gestured at the Pizza Hut. “That’s a big part of the reason I chose this restaurant. I wanted you to feel safe.”

“That’s a great start,” Jack said. “So we feel safe, what’s the special sauce that’s gonna make this alliance work?” Ronald smiled, the first time they’d seen him smile since they got there.

“Loyalty,” Ronald said. The King made a point to scoff extra loud.

“You mean like those childish punch cards that earn you a free sandwich? Please, we’re above that.” Ronald shook his head.

“Not that kind of loyalty. I mean loyalty to the alliance. Whoever commits to it has to work together, you know?”

“That’s all well and good, but what would be the benefits. And how do we know one of us…,” Jack cast a side-eye at the King, “…won’t just swear loyalty, but bail at the first opportunity?”

“Well, the biggest benefit would be shared knowledge. I’m convinced there’s a way we can improve our offerings without treading on each other’s markets. I mean, I’d trust an alliance partner with the secret sauce recipe in exchange for something equally secret. With that kind of knowledge, they could build their own version and make it different enough that it’s not a big deal. I wouldn’t lose customers but they’d definitely gain some, you know?”

“Okay, I can see that working. But there’s still the question of loyalty,” Jack reminded Ronald. The clown nodded.

“It would take a major gesture to prove that kind of loyalty,” Ronald said. “Something there’s no going back on.”

“Obviously,” the King replied.

“But it’d be worth it, don’t you think?” Jack nodded, and even the King gave a half nod.

“So? Do you have something like that in mind already, or is that why we’re here?”

“Both actually,” Ronald said.

“Oh my heavens, what is he doing here?” the King asked. Jack looked up to see the Colonel walking towards their table carrying a steaming hot pizza.

“This is one of his,” Ronald replied.

” ‘Afternoon, gentlemen,” the colonel smiled. He set the pizza down on the table. “Don’t let me interrupt.”

“Colonel, can I get a refill?” Ronald asked before the man in white walked away.

“Why it would be my pleasure, Sir. I’ll be back in two shakes of a lamb’s tail.” The colonel grabbed the red plastic cup from the table and retreated to the back.

“Wait a minute,” Jack asked. The King already had a slice of pizza on his plate. “You knew this was his place?” he asked Ronald.

“Oh yeah. Remember when we all said we were going to offer pizza, but I was the only one that did?” Jack and the King laughed. Ronald did not.

“Yeah! Sorry man, we were just pulling your leg. We didn’t think you would actually do it.” Ronald forced a smile.

“Ha ha, yeah. I did do it. When researching it I found out this was one of his,” Ronald pointed at the Colonel walking back to their table.

“So how do we prove our loyalty?” Jack asked, trying to get back on topic.

“Oh man, no. I’m sorry, I should have been clearer,” Ronald shrugged with his hands in the air.

“You’re not here to prove loyalty to me. You’re here to prove my loyalty to him,” again Ronald pointed at the Colonel who now stood at their table with a gun pointed at the King’s head.

“Good morning, Student Alphas,” the teacher smiled at the small group of gathered children. 10 nine-year-olds sat in pod-shaped desks made of metal, with a transparent glass display in front of them. They wore standard white jumpers that identified them as Students.

“Good morning, Professor History,” they replied as a chorus. Professor History touched a display on his desk and it came to life with glowing white text. A second later the displays on the children’s desks came to life with the same text.

“I’m sure you’re all excited, so let’s not waste any time,” the professor said. “Who is first?” he asked. A dark-haired boy stood and stepped out of his pod. He walked to the teacher’s desk and placed a hand flat against the glass surface. A thin white line circled his hand on the display, then it filled with a solid blue color. Different tags appeared around the circle to list his opportunities. The boy read through the tags, then smiled at one in particular.

“My name is Apprentice Programmer,” the boy said. The blue circle around his hand blinked several times, then disappeared. The other nine Students in the class exhaled simultaneously the moment the system registered his new name. The sigh was a reaction to him leaving their minds as if they felt lighter somehow. Professor History gave the boy a blue band for his arm.

“Thank you, Professor History,” he smiled when he accepted the band.

“Good luck, Apprentice Programmer.” He wished the boy well as the new Apprentice walked out of the classroom. “Next?” A girl with blond hair walked to the desk and placed her hand down. The same white outline circled her hand, but this time the circle filled in with green light instead of blue. She scanned the eligible jobs that popped up, then nodded with determination.

“My name is Apprentice Botanist,” she said. The green circle flashed and disappeared. The students sighed when the professor handed her a green armband.

“Good luck, Apprentice Botanist,” the teacher smiled as she left the room. “Next?” A brown-haired boy placed his hand down to reveal a red circle.

“My name is Apprentice Medic,” he shrugged. Professor History handed him a red armband and wished him luck, then the boy left to his new class. Six more students each took their turn to become Apprentices. One programmer, one medic, one engineer and three chefs. As the 9th Student, Apprentice Chef, left he glanced at the only other child, a girl, in the room. He looked from her to Professor History, and back again several times before leaving with a shrug. He looked like he had something on his mind. Professor History almost asked, but the girl approached the desk to take her turn. She paused before placing her hand down. She looked around the room as if to check whether they were alone, and glanced at the door to make sure it was closed. She leaned closer to the instructor and whispered.

“What if I don’t like any of the choices?” Professor chuckled.

“Oh, Student. Of course you’ll like one of them. You’re nervous because you’re the last one in your class. I’m sure it’s lonely in there without the others, but don’t worry. Once you choose a path you won’t be alone anymore,” he tried to reassure her. The girl shrugged.

“Can’t I stay like this? It’s actually kind of nice.” A flash of horror washed over Professor History’s face. His eyes widened for a split second before he regained composure.

“The next class of Student Alphas will be named soon. Either way, you’re not going to be alone,” he said. “Name yourself, Student,” he gestured at the glassy display. She nodded. Her fingertips walked over the display as she stalled for extra seconds, but Professor History stared at her. She relented and flattened her hand. The white circle filled in with red light, and the appropriate tags appeared. Then the light shifted to orange. The red tags remained while new orange ones appeared. The light turned yellow bringing new tags, then it cycled through the rest of the spectrum. Each new color added tags until the desk was completely cluttered with colored text. The light inside the circle continued to pulse through the colors like a rainbow. Professor History stood from his desk unsure what to do, but the girl spoke.

“My name is Eve,-” she said and brought her hand up to cover her mouth. She mumbled the last few syllables into her hand.

“NO!” Professor History shouted. He tried to pull her hand off the desk, but she held it down long enough for the circle to flash. It disappeared along with all the tags. The older man fell backward into his chair.

“Run,” he said. It came out as a whisper that Eve had trouble hearing at first.

“I’m sorry,-” she began to apologize.

“RUUUUUUUUUNNNNNN!” he yelled.

“Thanks for coming,” Mark said. He pulled a chair from a nearby table and sat next to his friend, Eddie. He invited Eddie to meet in the chain coffee shop and talk about how to increase their survivability scores.

“No problem,” Eddie shrugged. “I’m still sitting even today. There’re worse places to die than coffee with a friend,” he smiled.

“I’m up to 80% today, I’m feeling confident,” Mark replied.

“80? Damn, how’d you get that high?”

“Well that’s why you’re here,” Mark was interrupted by a jingling bell. Another customer came in, and Mark turned to see who it was. “And that’s why he’s here too,” he said. Mark pointed to the tall man in a dark suit that walked in. The man noticed Mark and headed to their table. He pulled up another seat and joined Mark and Eddie at the small round table.

“Eddie this is Max. Max, my friend Eddie.” The two strangers shook hands once Mark introduced them. Then Max set his briefcase on the table and opened it to pull out a notepad and pen.

“How ya doin’ Eddie? Mark tells me you’re at 50% more often than not,” his face contorted into a fake, overly-friendly smile. Eddie nodded, unsure what else he could say. “You know, I was just like you. But this morning I woke up to 100% survivability.” He smiled when Eddie’s eyes widened.

“I taught Mark how, and he’s at, what..?”

“80,” Mark replied.

“See that? 80 percent, he’s moving up in the world. How fast he gets up to 100 is up to him, but I’m proof that it’s possible,” Max said.

“Okay,” Eddie nodded. “How?” Max’s smile somehow grew larger. He slid the notepad and pen across the table to Eddie.

“First, write the names of 10 family or friends, minus Mark.” Eddie grabbed the pen, but he gave Mark a confused look. Mark nodded and smiled to reassure him, so he wrote a list. After he completed it he pushed the notepad back toward Max.

“No, no. That’s for you. That’s your starting point. You’re going to ask everyone on that list to give you five percent every day,” Max said. Eddie shook his head

“No way. I’m not taking a single percent from my parents… And my sister?” he glared at Mark. “C’mon man.”

“You didn’t let him finish,” Mark said. Max was quick to jump in.

“It’s called a ‘Downline’,” Max used air quotes for effect. “It’s super simple. If they agree to give you five percent a day, you provide support and help them make their own Downlines. If you do it right, they’ll have so much, the five percent is nothing. It would be a waste if they didn’t give it to you.”

“So that’s why I’m here? You want me to be part of your downline?” Eddie asked Mark. He gave a sheepish shrug along with a half nod.

“You’re missing the bigger picture!” Max did not give up. “With these ten names you’ll be up 10%, and another percent for anyone else you get.”

“Why only 10%? At five percent a name I should be up 50.”

“Well, it doesn’t work like that. If you’re part of the downline, you’ve got to pay it upward. Out of that five percent you keep one, and the other four go up the line. If you joined Mark’s team, your four percent would go to him, but he only keeps one of that, and the other three go to me. I keep one of that, and so on.”

“Why? Why can’t I just keep the five percent for myself?”

“Because it doesn’t work like that,” Max chuckled.

“And what am I getting for my four percent?”

“Mark’s help. He’ll be your mentor like I’m his. He’ll help you recruit people to your downline. And you get the support of our organization. We can help you find leads that’ll increase your downline.” Eddie nodded.

“Right, so I get nothing. Assuming I could even get the people needed.. there’s no real incentive to pay it upward. Right?”

“If you don’t pay your dues we kick you out,” Max said.

“Uhuh. Okay. I’m leaving, you can pretend I’m thinking about it.  Mark, don’t bother me with this MLM crap again.”

Darklight glanced at the paper long enough to register it as a  résumé, then looked up at Heli-Woman with annoyance. He gestured to the prospective henchmen & women behind her. They filed out of the ballroom he rented for auditions in a hurry once Heli-Woman showed up.

“You’re scaring away my applicants!” he complained. “You promised I could get this done today.” Heli-Woman shrugged and ran her fingers through her long blond hair.

“If they’re running the second I show up, you don’t want them anyway. I’m not bothering you, I brought you a new henchman,” she smiled and pointed at the sheet in Darklight’s hand. He crumpled it in one hand and tossed it away.

“Overqualified,” he smirked.

“No!” Heli-Woman aimed the palm of her hand towards the crumpled sheet. A small, fan-like propeller came out of her hand and whirred to life. A small cyclone of air lifted the paper ball and carried it back to the card table where Darklight sat. The propeller retracted into her hand and she began to unwrap and smooth out the résumé. “I’ll make it worth your while,” she winked at him. Darklight sat up straighter and smiled at her. Heli-Woman aimed her hand at a folding chair and pulled it to her with a whirlwind. She sat down and crossed her legs.

“Obviously, I’m not going to stop you any time you bring your new lead enforcer,” she said. “As long as it’s only minor trouble.” Darklight sat back and shook his head.

“Lead enforcer? No way, I can’t do that to Miguel. He has a family and everything.” He stared at Heli-Woman with a look of disbelief. “You’ve met his kids, remember? They were at the hero-villain retreat last year.” Heli-Woman nodded.

“Of course I remember. Look, I’m doing this for Miguel too. Don’t you think he’s been in Darklight’s shadow long enough? It’s time for him to start his own villainy instead of doing yours all the time. I know a hero upstate that sorely needs a good, no, a great villain. Miguel studied under the best. He just needs a good villain name, and everyone’s happy.”

“Miguel is his villain name,” Darklight shrugged. “I don’t get it, but he likes it.”

“Well, whatever. What do you think?” She smiled when Darklight picked up the wrinkled sheet of paper and actually read through it.

“You can’t be serious? I thought this was for you.”

“It IS for me. The biggest favor ever.” Heli-Woman leaned over the card table and clasped her hands together. “Pleeeeeease.” Darklight sighed.

“Look, I’m not going to speak for Miguel. Let me ask him if he’s even interested in moving up.” Darklight pulled a cell-phone out of his black costume. “What’s the hero’s name?”

“FireShark,” Heli-Woman replied. Darklight nodded then walked away talking on the phone. He returned 10 minutes later and sat in front of Heli-Woman.

“Okay, here’s the deal. Everything is on a trial basis. Miguel can come back and hench for me if the FireShark thing doesn’t work out. That’s the best I can do.” Heli-Woman nodded and shook Darklight’s hand eagerly.

“You won’t regret it. He’s going to do great for you,” she said.

“And you won’t stop any heist he’s a part of, right?” Heli-woman shrugged.

“Keep it reasonable. Maybe one a week, and minor things like banks and jewelry. The stuff that’s insured.” Darklight nodded.

“Alright. Well, you’ve got a deal more or less. I just need to interview him,” Darklight said. He looked around the empty ballroom expecting to find someone. “Where is he?” Heli-Woman waved him off.

“He’s at home resting. You don’t need to interview him, he’ll be ready to go tonight. Trust me.” Darklight sighed. “Fine. Have him show up at the hideout on C Street at 9.”

“Thank you!” Heli-Woman said. She stood, ran around the table and kissed Darklight on the forehead. “You won’t regret it!”

Darklight answered the door at 9 p.m. On the other side he found Heli-Woman standing next to a young man.

“C’mon in,” Darklight said to the young man. Heli-Woman stepped forward, but Darklight held a hand up to stop her. “Just him. He’s on the clock now.”

“But, I’m not going to get in your way like we said. I’m taking the night off so I can be here and help him,” Heli-Woman said and tried to step forward again.

“Look, we’re friends, so I gave your son the job without interviewing him. But he’s 18. He doesn’t need his mom hovering over him every moment. He needs to make his own mistakes or he won’t learn how to deal with them.” Darklight looked back into the hideout at the small group of rough looking henchmen. “I can’t run a gang of villains if my lead enforcer’s mommy is always hanging around. Go home, I’ll call you if there are any emergencies.”

“Fine. I’ll watch from a distance,” Heli-Woman said. A large propeller exited the top of her head and began to spin. She flew to the roof of a nearby building and sat down on the edge of it staring at Darklight’s hideout. He closed the door and stared at his new hire.

“Do you even want to be here?” the young man shrugged.

“She said I needed ‘real-world’ work experience, but she goes to all my interviews. You’re the only one that already knows what kind of parent she is.”

“Here you go, Mrs. Herrera,” Luis said. He handed the elderly woman an open jar of pickles.

“Ay, thank you. I didn’t want to wake mijo with such a small thing,” she smiled with sparkling eyes. “He earned his cape last week, and he’s been so busy.”

“You’re welcome,” Luis faked a smile and stepped back into his apartment to close the door. “And, again. Congratulations on your son.” He shut the door with a heavy sigh and walked back into the kitchen.

“My hero son is a hero,” he mocked her with a high, whiny voice. “Did you know he was a hero?” he asked Mort. The shell of Luis’ pet turtle was decorated with a bright yellow sticker that smiled up at Luis. The tall, lean man growled and rubbed his back against the doorjamb. “You see, Mort?” He wiggled from side to side against the hard edge. “She talks about her stupid son so much she gives me hives.” Mort disappeared into his shell.

“Yeah it’s late,” Luis said. “See you in the morning.” He flipped the light off on his way out of the kitchen and headed to the single bedroom in his “quaint” apartment. Luis continued to grumble to himself about Mrs. Herrera’s son as he worked through his bedtime routine. Then he climbed into bed and drifted off to sleep.

He felt better after a solid night of rest. He smiled at Mort as they had breakfast together, then left the apartment. His smile only lasted until the elevator doors opened. Mrs. Herrera’s son, Angel, stood in the elevator with each arm wrapped around a beautiful woman. Angel smiled at Luis.

“Morning!” Luis nodded, stepped into the elevator, and promptly turned his back on him. “Girls, this is Luis. He’s the nicest guy you’ll ever meet. He’s always helping my mom with stuff that’s,” he chuckled, “you know. Under my league.”

“Hi,” one of them said flatly. “Tell us about when you earned your cape,” she said to Angel with a flirty tone. Luis heard the sound of rustling fabric behind him and imagined the girls running their fingers through Angel’s white, satiny cape.

“Oh, you know all about that,” Angel chuckled. “I mean, the news is still talking about how I saved that bus full of kids from crashing into a burning building.”

“I know,” the other woman said. “But how does it work? How did it feel?” Luis rolled his eyes and glanced at the number pad. 30 more floors to go.

“Well, after I parked the bus in a safe spot my whole body tingled, and then,” A finger snapped right by Luis’ ear. “Snap! The cape just popped out.”

“That’s it? You mean you don’t get to pick your powers?” the first woman asked. Luis looked down. 20 more floors to go.

“Nope. I don’t know how they get picked, but I knew how to use them as soon as the cape appeared,” Angel replied.

“Ooooh. What can you do?” The second woman asked.

“I can fly. I have super strength, and I can make light,” Angel said. The metal doors in front of Luis grew brighter. He saw a ball of light in the reflection, then Angel made it disappear.

“That’s so hot,” the first woman said. 10 floors to go. Luis reached into his suit pocket and pulled out his collapse-able back scratcher. The stress caused by Angel’s bragging triggered his hives again.

“Hey, Luis. Need a hand?” Angel laughed. Both women sounded disgusted at the thought, but Luis ignored them.

“He doesn’t need a hero, he needs a dermatologist,” one of the girls said, and the trio burst into laughter. Luis gripped the back scratcher and rubbed harder. Five floors left.

“You’re a hero, don’t bother with anything that small,” the first woman said. One floor left. Luis scratched harder. The elevator lurched and stopped halfway between the second and first floors. The lights went out. Luis snapped.

“FUCK YOU!” He yelled at the door first, for taking too long to open. Then he whirled around in the darkness and screamed.

“YOU’RE A FUCKING BUS DRIVER! IT’S YOUR FUCKING JOB TO KEEP THE KIDS SAFE!” A warm light began to glow from Angel’s hand to illuminate them. The golden light highlighted icy-cold stares coming from both women.

“You’re just Jealou-” the first woman was interrupted by Luis yelling in her face.

“DID I ASK YOU ANYTHING YOU FUCKING GROUPIE?” Angel stepped forward and put a firm hand on Luis’ shoulder.

“That’s enough,” he said. Luis growled and swung his only weapon, a  metal-tipped back scratcher. The tiny claw sliced across Angel’s face and left three red gashes over his left eye. The surprise attack made Angel drop the light. Luis growled again in the dark. His back felt like it was on fire and he doubled over to try and escape the pain.

“IT BURNS!” He yelled. He rolled over and rubbed his back on the floor, then he went quiet. After several seconds of silence, Angel produced light again. He and the two women were huddled against one corner of the elevator. They looked down at Luis, but the lean man began to stand up.

“What is your deal?” the second woman asked. Luis took a deep breath and reached behind himself. He made a smooth motion and held up a handful of black silk for them to see.

“I can fly, I have super strength, and I can make dark,” he smiled at the woman, then snapped his fingers. Angel’s light went out.

“Your father brought you a princess, and you’re going to appreciate it. Go to your hoard, shift your scaly butt out of that stupid human form, and wait for her rescuers,” his mom said. Her large silver wings flapped at Victor’s short, bearded body. The resulting gust of wind blew his green feathered cap off. Victor knew better than to argue with his mother. He turned and walked away, stopping to bend over for his cap. He made a show of letting his bronze tail appear, to make her think he was turning back into a dragon. But, it disappeared again the moment he was out of sight, and he stayed human.

Victor moped through the giant castle towards his hoard in the north tower. He could have flown up to the top of the tower, but the walk gave him more time to be miserable. He reached his room, opened the door, and sighed.  A beautiful, unconscious, young woman occupied his bed. He grumbled to himself and walked to the beanbag chair filled with golden coins, his “hoard”.

“..don’t wanna eat knights..,” he mumbled to himself while he pulled out a loaf of bread he stole the day before. He glared at the woman while spite-chewing the stale bread. “…’at’s my bed,” he complained.  He made it halfway through the loaf before he heard her stir on the bed. He swallowed and rolled his eyes. “Here we go,” he whined. The woman bolted upright in bed and her gaze darted around the room in a panic.

“DRAGON!” she yelled. Her breath sounded heavy, but she calmed down when she saw a short, young, bearded man sitting on a black leather bag. He gave her a half wave with one hand and offered a half-eaten loaf with his other. “Dragon?” she asked. Victor shrugged and nodded. She tried to scoot off the bed in the opposite direction but rolled off the bed. She landed on the stone floor with a thud. Victor stood.

“Are you okay?” he asked. He raised his voice, but only to ensure the question reached her. He hoped to avoid scaring her more. She came into few again as she pulled herself up against the far wall. She tried to press herself through the wall and kept her eyes on Victor.

“What do you want?” she asked. She kept her back against the wall and spread both arms out to feel her way to some sort of exit. Victor let himself fall into his chair again.

“Nothing,” Victor took another bite of bread. Her eyes narrowed, but he noticed she relaxed somewhat.

“Why am I here?” Victor sighed, bread crumbs flew out of his mouth. He gulped down the wad of bread to answer.

“Bait, mostly. Maybe dessert.” Her eyes widened again.

“You said you didn’t want anything!” she shouted. Victor smirked.

“You asked two separate questions. My dad brought here as bait, but I don’t care if you leave,” he used his thumb to point to a large open window next to him.

“I can leave? Just like that?” she asked and inched her way towards the window, still pressed against the wall. Victor nodded.

“The sooner the better. Once your rescue party gets here my dad’ll finish them off even if I don’t.” The princess edged closer to the window, and she noticed Victor had not moved an inch to stop her.    The fingers of her left hand reached the open window and she rushed to look out, ready to jump. But she stopped and stepped back.

“That’s too far for me,” she said. “You knew that,” she realized she turned her back on him and whipped around expecting to see him sneaking up on her. He remained seated, but chuckled.

“Yeah. But it’s the only way out.” The princess glanced at the heavy wooden door that led to the stairs.

“What about the door?” Victor shrugged.

“Try it.” The princess began to shuffle to the door while keeping her eye on Victor, but she finally realized he was not going to hurt her. She willingly turned her back and dashed to the door. She opened and stepped out of the room. At the bottom of the tower, she saw a silver dragon waiting at the steps. She stepped quietly back into the room.

“That’s my mom,” Victor said.

“I just want to clear it up, for myself. You are a dragon, right?” the princess asked. Victor nodded. “But you don’t want to eat me.. or any of my knights?” Victor shook his head.

“No, humans are gross. Somehow they’re fatty and stringy all at the same time,” Victor shuddered as he fought back a wave of nausea. “I can’t deal with your texture.”

“Why are you in human form?”she stepped closer and asked.

“It’s comfortable. I hate walking around on my hands.”

“You don’t want to be here, do you?”

“No, but I’m a dragon, I’ve got nowhere else to go.” Victor sighed. “I can blend in with humans, but I don’t have any useful skills.”

“Useful skills? YOU’RE A DRAGON! Any kingdom would kill to have you on their side. You can fly out of here, right? Take my home and my father will make you a knight.” Victor perked up.

“Really? I can live with humans?” he asked.” The princess nodded. “I don’t want to be a knight though. I want to learn something else. Please?” The princess finally felt completely at ease, she smiled at the man.

“Sure, what do you want to learn?” Victor stood up and large bronze wings grew out of his back. He stepped towards the princess and wrapped his arms around her.

“You’ve got a royal baker, right?” The princess nodded.

“Of course, the best in the kingdom. Would you like to apprentice with him?” Victor nodded eagerly, then jumped out the window holding the princess.

“Yes please.”

Julian tapped his foot to let out his nervous energy. He sat in a small office across from the large man he hoped would be his boss, if he got the job. The man nodded to himself at various points as he read down the sheet. After several minutes he let it fall to the dark wood desk and met Julian’s eyes.

“You’re certainly qualified for the position,” the man said. His low voice rumbled the air around Julian. “So tell me, what makes you more qualified than the monsters waiting to come in after you?” he asked.

“I’m not,” Julian said. The corners of his lips pulled upward into a broad smile, and he gave his practiced answer. “Yet. But I’m eager to learn, and grow with the firm. This is not a stepping stone for me, this is the career of my dreams. I believe I can bring a unique perspective and fresh ideas to the table,” he said. The man nodded, then lifted a manila folder from his desk and opened it to flip through the pictures inside. Julian sat up straighter. His chest swelled with pride as the man turned the photos this way and that to appreciate them from different angles.

“Your portfolio is…,” he paused. Julian inched forward on his chair, eager for the praise. “…interesting.” Julian deflated and sank into his chair, but the man continued. “Strictly speaking, your work doesn’t represent the kind of image we work for here,” he dropped the folder. His face softened and he smiled at Julian. “However, you do have potential, and an eye for the artistic. You might be right about bringing a unique perspective.” Julian instantly sat up straighter again. “With the right mentor, I think you’d be a great fit here.”

“Yes!” Julian cheered, then clapped his hand over his mouth. The interviewer chuckled and held a hand up to calm him down.

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, we have a few formalities to go through first. I know you saw the other applicants, but due to the newness of the legislation, I’m required to inform you of a few things. First, obviously, this is a Horror Act compliant business. As such you may interact with freaks, mutants, monsters, fae, zombies, or ghosts. We can’t guarantee your safety any more than an office that churns out disgruntled workers,” he shrugged. “But everyone’s trying to get through their own rat race.”

“Of course,” Julian nodded.

“Second, we take discrimination very seriously around here. All our employees are equal, and we expect anyone that joins the team,” he smiled at Julian again. “to treat coworkers with respect no matter their race. Alive or not, we’re all equal. Is that clear?” Julian nodded and smiled. His struggle to contain his excitement resulted in the grin staying on his face. He couldn’t wait to get started on his dream. The large man clasped his hands on the desk and leaned forward in a relaxed posture.

“Finally, before I formally offer you the job, I want to know more about you. Why does someone like you want to work here? Your education alone is impressive enough to net you almost any job, even if you left off your ‘special skills’.

“Like I said, it’s my dream to be part of the industry. The education is a side-effect of channeling my frustrations into a ‘normal life’. Once the Horror Act passed, I realized I didn’t have to hide my true self anymore.” Julian shrugged and his grin shrunk a tiny bit. “I came out to my mom first, she had no idea.” The burly man nodded and tried to present an understanding face.

“How did she take it?” he asked. A high pitched chuckle, almost a giggle, escaped Julian’s mouth. He reached for his portfolio on the desk.

“I showed her the real me, for better or worse. Showed her what I was capable of.” He opened the folder and flipped through the pictures until he found a specific one. Then he handed it to the interviewer.  His eyes widened.

“That’s your mother?” Julian’s smile disappeared completely, but he nodded.

“She was.” The man stared at the picture. A woman’s corpse hung upside down. Her head sat inside the cavity of her disemboweled stomach with a pacifier in her mouth. Red, likely blood, flowers decorated her face around empty eye sockets.

“I knew the Horror Act would change things. Monsters working with humans is a great thing for our kind,” the man chuckled. He extended a hand over the desk. “But I never thought a human would want to work in the monster sector. Welcome aboard, Julian.”