Epic #11 – Suffer the Children

  The Lord of Evilland sits atop his throne of skulls as he is briefed concerning the latest news from the far corners of his empire – Rorgaag the Slayer and Ogre King Grushuum stand at the bottom of the staircase leading towards their lord, presenting a series of charts and graphs regarding the delegation of the resources of the kingdom, while his intern-turned-model stands at his side with a clipboard taking notes for her master with a huge grin on her face as she enjoys the position of proximity to her idol and object of affections. “So, in conclusion...” the orc finance minister begins to summarize, “the events of the last Death Derby event have left us in the red for the month and we don't even have any new elite heavy cavalry units to show for the expenditure.”

  “Ugh – again you remind the Lord of Evilland of that massive clusterfuck!” the emperor interrupts the finance minister. “Why do you never deliver any good news to him anymore? Surely, for all the sacrifices that the Lord of Evilland has made there must be some fruit being borne for him – what is he getting for all the wealth that he pours into his wars of conquest?”

  “That's just it, my lord” the finance minister resumes - “there really isn't and good news to report here: our troops are spread very thin across too many different conflict zones to do much more than hold the lines: we need to redirect resources away from one conflict zone to alter the balance of power in the others and we simply cannot afford to do that without significant territorial losses – we need to put at least one of the front lines on hold if we are to change this status quo.”

  “Ogre King Grushuum say that the most effective way to achieve this is to negotiate a ceasefire agreement with at least one of our co-belligerents” the foreign minister jumps in. “Ogre King Grushuum say that all attempts to negotiate with the Reptilemen of the Southern Front have failed – the coalition of Reptilian Kingdoms is not willing to bargain with us due to prodding from their priesthoods as they are predicting a victory that will bring glory to their gods in the near future. Ogre King Grushuum say that the Vampire Lords are also unwilling to negotiate as they still have massive hoards of undead troops to bring to the fight: they care nothing for a kill ratio of over 100-1 in our favor as they can simply raise at least two zombie warriors for every one that they lose at a cost of next to nothing.”

  “Then just how is the Lord of Evilland to freeze any of the fronts?” the emperor interrupts. “If no one is willing to negotiate, what other options do we have here?”

  “Well...” the orc finance minister interjects, fiddling with his fingers as he ponders a way to present an idea he knows that his lord will have trouble accepting. “You see, there is at least one party that has expressed a desire to come to the negotiating table – a number of Elven Kingdoms located along the Eastern Front...”

  “Never!” the emperor shouts as he rises from his throne. “All elves everywhere are to be slain or enslaved, understood? Those untrustworthy little shits believe themselves to be sooooo much better than everyone else – always parading themselves about with unwarranted vanity: boasting of their prowess in magic all the time, asserting the superiority of their culture over our own, putting their bodies on display with their fancy, revealing wardrobes everywhere as if to say 'go ahead and look, you will *never* have a body as perfect as ours' – gods dammit, everyone knows that your forms are aesthetically pleasing! You don't need to shove it in our faces all the time!”

  “Nonetheless...” the orc finance minister interrupts his lord's rant, “they have suffered significant loses in this war and a significant portion of them are willing to leave the National Socialist Elven Workers' Party if it means an end to the conflict. A representative of this coalition of would-be break-away kingdoms have sent us a tribute” he concludes as he motions to the finance minister with his right hand.

  “Ogre King Grushuum says that we have been gifted a relic of great historical importance” the foreign minister begins his presentation as he steps forward bearing a polished wooden chest covered with elaborated carvings, opening it to reveal a crystalline star that glows with a white light. “Ogre King Grushuum say behold: one of the legendary Stars of Elvany – a relic that has traditionally been possessed only by nobles that stand in line for the Elven throne. Ogre King Grushuum say that these factions have expressed a desire to depose the ruling party and bring about a restoration of the monarchy as being more than a mere figurehead that rubber stamps the actions of the NSEWP.”

  “Shiny trinkets!” the emperor roars in reply to this tribute. “Do you truly believe that the Lord of Evilland would be impressed by mere trinkets? What manner of insult is this that these pointy-eared tricksters would seek any kind of peace deal for this!”

  “Ogre King Grushuum say that this is far more than a mere trinket!” the foreign minister rebuts. “Ogre King Grushuum say that this relic is a means through which legitimacy is conferred upon the aristocratic houses and that by giving it to us they are recognizing our own legitimacy as a nation! Furthermore, Ogre King Grushuum say that there are many legends surrounding the stars that hint of great power that they might bestow upon those that wield them due to being forged by the legendary enchanter...”

  The foreign minister continues speaking, but the emperor hears nothing of importance whatsoever – what reaches his ears amounts to “blah blah manipulation of reality... blah blah ancient secrets long forgotten... blah blah magical heritage painfully surrendered to us for a chance at peace.”

  “Grrrr...” the emperor grunts as he returns to his throne and places his head in his hands. “The Lord of Evilland hates to admit it, but you probably have a point – tell those bastards that a temporary ceasefire agreement is in order. But if they do anything that even remotely appears to be any kind of funny business, the Lord of Evilland will see to it that their hides will adorn his lair, their sons will be boiled in the brass minotaur and their daughters be violated by his manhood until they perish from exhaustion!” he rants as he takes the box from his foreign minister. “Now, what to do with this thing...”

  “Well, it is kinda pretty...” the intern chimes in as she lowers her clipboard to get a better look at the relic. “If nothing else, it might make for a nice fashion statement – something to show off around your neck as a trophy when out on the town!”

  “The Lord of Evilland has no use with this bauble!” the emperor replies. “Here – you take it” he blithely states as he tosses the relic in her direction.

  “Really?” the stunned intern asks incredulously. “Wow – no one has ever given me anything like this before...” she pauses as all manner of thoughts run through her mind. Does this mean that he wants me – that he is close to accepting me into his harem? Oh gods, let that be the case! she leaves unspoken as she places the relic around her own neck.

  “Yeah, it's all yours. Now what other matters should be addressed before the Lord of Evilland retires for the day?” the emperor asks of his advisers. “The premier of 'Monday Night Sacrifice' is on in an hour and The Lord of Evilland wishes to make himself comfortable for this event...”

  “Well, Rach is waiting just outside to ask you for that favor we talked about...” Lavinia answered coyly - “given what I did for you, I think you owe us a little bit of consideration.”

  “Of course...” the emperor mutters with a groan – Lavinia's quick thinking to use her media connections to raise the money to pay off his debt on short notice probably saved him from meeting a terrible end at the hands of a spectral horror that lies just beyond this reality: all at the cost of her own ass – quite literally.

  “Very well, let the hippie in...” the emperor relented. “But she better not expect the Lord of Evilland to pull her naked, drugged-up ass out of the sea again – she can die for all he cares next time!”

  A pair of goblin guards open the great doors at the throne room entrance – the hippie chick in a tie-die sundress and yellow shades, carrying a folder enters the hall as she gives the guards a cheery smile and a wave of her other hand. “I, Rachel Fair Child of the Earth and Sky, am honored to have been given the opportunity to appear before you this day my lord...” she utters before a releasing a high-pitch toot that interrupts her introduction to the emperor. “So, sorry about that – I'm a bit nervous” she apologizes briefly before continuing onward, “but I have come here to make a case for education reforms that will provide a brighter future for all the children of Evilland!”

  “Oh gods...” the emperor groans as he pushes his head into his open right hand. “Here we go with all this 'won't anyone think of the children' shit – why does this hippie with loose bowels insist on taking more precious state funds away from the Lord of Evilland's wars of genocide and great monuments to his glory so a bunch of stupid kids can learn to read and finger paint?”

  “My lord, with all due respect to your priorities for the state” the finance minister utters through gritted teeth, “you really need to consider investing in the future of your kingdom – you might be nigh immortal, but the general public ages and drops out of the work force: a well-educated population is generally a more productive one and thus tends to generate more tax revenue – which we really do need right now.”

  “Don't tell the Lord of Evilland that you are with this gods damn hippie!” the emperor barked out in dismay.

  “My lord, I have nothing in common with this hippie except this one issue” the orc finance minister retorts. “She is a peacenik, a reprobate and a drug head that I would normally be booting right out the door right now – but with regard to the education system, she does have a valid case to make for reforms: our schools are woefully under-funded, teachers are often paying for school supplies out of pocket and are poorly-compensated for the value of the labor they put into keeping the classrooms running. You might want to hear out her presentation.”

  With that retort, the hippie chick opens up her folder and lays out a series of charts and graphs with a number of proposed budgetary allocations – very little of which has any meaning to the emperor who only gives a damn if the children learn the necessary skills to dig ditches and breed more virgins for sacrifice. After about thirty minutes of presentation, the emperor slumps over on his throne and reaches for his Istone: opening up the holoprojector on it to play a match-three game as the hippie struggles to regain his attention.

  “My lord...” the intern interjects, “maybe this can be an opportunity for you to learn more about the state of the school system first-hand. You need some extra scratch anyway, so why not join her as a teacher's aid – get a look at how things work on the inside?”

  “Hggggggnnnn...” the emperor groans with impatience. “This little adventure better end with more revenue flowing into the coffers...”

  ***

  In a room decorated with clouds, rainbows and paper maché birds with the names of young students crudely written on them, the Lord of Evilland paces back and forth anxiously and with frustration at the fact that he is now, once again, being forced to operate outside of his natural element – for a moment he raises his fist to punch the sky-blue wall to alleviate the stress, a college-age girl with two-toned red and purple hair and a green t-shirt with red text that reads “Sperm Dumpster” waltzes in the door carrying a folder full of documents. “Alright, I got your itinerary for the day right here – so lets just get this over with” she whines at the emperor as she shoves the folder into his chest.

  “Wait a minute – where's the goth intern?” the emperor inquires. “Why in all the hells are you here?”

  “You don't remember?” the punk girl asks with disbelief. “We talked about this the other day – Lav has a photo shoot today, for the modeling job that puts money in your pockets? So I'm here to fill in for her. Just be glad I owed her a favor since she loaned me five hundred gold for a new guitar for the band as I wouldn't be here otherwise...”

  “Oh, right...” the emperor mutters. “And you are the roommate with the punk band that she often talks about... Uh... “

  “Audrey” she responds indignantly as she leers at him with a look of annoyance on her face. “After all this time one would think you would at least know my name by now...”

  “Perhaps the Lord of Evilland would remember your name if you were anyone important” the emperor retorts as he opens the folder to look at the documents. “Let's see... The class gets here at nine AM, songs about numbers until ten, finger painting til ten-thirty, recess at eleven...”

  As he reads through the folder, the door opens yet again and a group of young kids rush in – screaming and laughing as they run to the desks, followed by their hippie teacher. “Ok class, I want you to say hello to our new teachers aide today – please say 'good morning' to Mr. Zhorg!”

  “Good morning Mr. Zhorg!” the young students repeat enthusiastically as their teacher approaches the emperor and his temporary assistant, carrying a tie-die t-shirt in each hand.

  “On the behalf of this class, I took the liberty of making both of you a special gift!” the hippie Pre-K teacher exclaims as she hands them the t-shirts that read “special helpers” in rainbow-colored groovy-font letters. “I know that you have your preferred wardrobes, but I think that these might be more appropriate for this particular setting.”

  The emperor snatches the shirt from her hand and proceeds to throw it on – just as he finishes pulling his head through the designated hole at the top, he feels a pair of limbs place themselves on his right leg. He looks down to see a small girl with silver hair and dog ears, dressed in a green t-shirt and pink shorts with a bushy, gray tail sticking out, resting her hands on him while staring upwards into his eyes with her tongue hanging out of her mouth. “Woof! Woof!” she vocalizes as her tail wags excitedly back and forth.

  “And just what is this mutt doing up here?” the emperor queries with annoyance in his voice.

  “Oh, that's just Suzy” the hippie teacher reassures the disgruntled Lord of Evilland. “She just gets really exited when new people come to class! I believe that the rest of them are every bit as exited to meet you as you join us on a journey of fun and learning!”

  “Ha – journey indeed...” the emperor scoffs. “If the Lord of Evilland had it his way, mutts like this would be...” he pauses as he is interrupted by the sound of liquid splashing against the metallic armor, followed immediately by the uproar of laughter by the other children in the classroom. He looks back down at his leg to see the dog-girl urinating on him. “Why you little bitch! How dare you...” he begins ranting as he reaches for his axe, frightening the pup into a retreat into the teacher's arms just as the blade became visible.

  “Suzy!” the hippie teacher scolds her as she reaches down to pick her up, giving her a light wack on the nose just as she becomes cradled in her arms - “you should know better! Say you're sorry to Mr. Zhorg!”

  “I'm sowwy...” the young pup whimpers with a frown on her face and her ears drooping low. “I just reawwy happy to see you!”

  “Listen Mr. Zhorg...” the teacher pleads with the enraged emperor - “she just hasn't been properly housebroken yet. Give her a chance and she might just grow on you!”

  “Hmph!” the emperor-turned-teaching-assistant huffs with annoyance as he places the axe back onto its place on his armor - “your little pup is only good for one thing in the eyes of the Lord of Evilland and that's licking peanut butter off his...”

  “Mr. Zhorg!” the hippie teacher interrupts his rant while covering the ears of the dog-child - “there are children present and I ask that you refrain from the use of that kind of language!”

  “But I wuv peanut butter!” little Suzy chimes in - “it's vewy tasty, even better when there's honey in it!”

  “I'm sure that's all Mr. Zhorg was trying to express, dear...” the teacher lies to the child as she puts her down. “Now, go to your seat so we can get started! We have an exiting day of fun and learning planned for all of you!”

  “Exciting isn't the word that the Lord of Evilland would use to describe it...” the emperor murmurs under his breath. “He would rather be watching the sacrifice games than babysitting this little bags of urine as they release their filth on his royal attire...”

  “Well, suck it up” his punk girl temp rebukes his complaint in a soft whisper through gritted teeth - “we are all doing things that we don't wanna do today, so just play along and we'll both get through this – ok?”

  Why are the gods so cruel... the emperor says in his own mind as the teacher signals him to cue the music to the addition song to get class started...

  ***

  After two mind-numbing hours of children's songs about basic arithmetic and finger painting, the time has come for the children to be released into the playground – the hippie teacher critiques the performance of her new assistants as the kids chase each other in games of tag or line up on the slides. “Not to bad for a first day, but I feel that you need to be just a little more understanding of our students' needs” she proceeds to lecture the emperor. “You see, these developing minds require a lot of love and attention if they are to reach their full potential and you just... Well... Aren't really showcasing that for them.”

  “Bah!” the emperor scoffs with his fist raised in the air. “Back in the days of the Lord of Evilland's youth the offspring were left to fend for themselves – some survived to adulthood and others didn't! There was no need for any of this 'love' stuff you speak of since the weak were simply culled as a matter of course!”

  “I told you this wasn't going to work, Rach” the punk temp chides the teacher - “he's too set in his ways to ever consider that there might be any value in doing things differently from his time. Face it – we are doomed to forever repeat the Age of Darkness so long as men like him are on the throne...”

  “Hey! The Age of Darkness was the best time of the Lord of Evilland's life!” the emperor rebukes his temp. “It was a time in which he learned essential skills for slaughter, defilement and pillaging of his enemies – skills that allowed him to take control of a kingdom!”

  “Maybe so...” a new voice, one low in tone and filled with disdain, from behind the emperor speaks up. “And yet those skills are of little value in constructing an Evilland worth living in...”

  “Ah! Principal Gorak!” the hippie teacher exclaims as she turns to face a middle-aged man with a pot belly clad in a linen loin cloth and a pair of leather bandoleers laden with an assortment of writing utensils across his bare chest. “I am very sorry that I haven't had the chance to introduce you to my my assistants yet – I know that typically protocol requires you to vet them after an interview, but you were out of town and...”

  “Yeah, I get it” the principal interrupts the teacher's excuses. “Quite frankly, I doubt that I would have the authority to overrule the emperor if he really wants the job for some reason – so the normal protocols don't really mean anything here” he laments as he reaches into his bandoleers for a flask and takes a drink.

  “Mr. Gorak – it's not even noon!” the teacher objects to the blatant display of alcohol consumption on school grounds. “The teacher I knew you to be would never do this!”

  “Whatever” the principal responds flatly - “it's not like anyone really cares about education around here anyway, so what's the point in pretending that anything we do really matters...”

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  “If you object so much to his leadership, then challenge him to a duel to the death!” the emperor admonishes the hippie teacher. “You should know damn well that's how things are done in Evilland – besides, he's all pudgy and out-of-shape” he continues gesturing towards his pot belly. “Even you might have a chance of taking him!”

  “Well, I've had this job for fifteen years” the principal responds without even acknowledging the blatant insult directed at him. “There's no need for me to fight for this position because no one wants it – it doesn't matter who's in charge of the school when your institution is operating on a minimal budget and has a hard time finding enough teachers to properly staff the place. All in all, I'm just here killing time till I retire as there's just no way for me to do anything else...”

  “Oh Mr. Gorak – you have truly fallen from grace” the hippie laments. “It was you who inspired me to take up the torch of learning and bring it to the minds of the youth and now you have none of that passion for teaching left in you.”

  “I'm very sorry that I inspired anyone to be anything like my younger self” the principal replies in a cool, monotone voice. “Anyway, if you need me I'll be in the office pouring myself a few more drinks...” he trails off as he casually wanders back to the building, leaving the teacher alone with her new assistants – passing a couple of young students chasing each other as they sped in the direction of their caretakers, one of which is the young dog-girl Suzy.

  “Woof! Woof! Ms. Earth-and-Sky! Ms. Earth-and-Sky!” Suzy calls out to her teacher - “Loogrug is trying to stab me again!” as a little goblin closes in from behind her with a sharp stick.

  “Loogrug?” the emperor mutters to himself as the teacher lunged at the goblin to disarm him. “Is that not the head of intelligence of the Lord of Evilland? Does he have offspring here?” he continues to wonder to himself as the goblin child screams in protest against the intervention of the adults in his favorite game.

  “Loogrug Stabbs Junior!” the hippie teacher loudly scolds the young goblin. “How many times have you been told that we don't play stab tag here? We are all about clean, safe fun!”

  “Oh let the kid go on” the emperor contradicts the teacher. “Games like this help filter out the weak and useless eaters of Evilland!”

  “Mr. Zhorg, we are not having this discussion right now!” the hippie teacher repudiates the emperor to his face. “It's our responsibility to nurture the youth of our class, not purge them – they need to look at us almost like they are parental figures.”

  “If you iz me mutha, den you wud be dinna for me right now!” the goblin boy angrily castigates his teacher.

  “Well, I suppose I don't need to be a mother figure to you” the hippie relents upon remembering how goblins reproduce – as they are a single-gender species, they tend to propagate by forcing females of other species to bear their offspring: a pregnancy that's usually fatal as liters of goblins eat their way out of the womb in a bloody frenzy. “But you do need to do what I say when you're here! Now apologize to little Suzy here!”

  “Sawry...” the young goblin insincerely apologizes to the dog girl as he folds his arms across his chest with a look of utter disdain on his face.

  “Ok, now you two go stand in line by the door – recess is nearly over” the hippie teacher instructs her students. “I have a surprise for you for Sharing Time today!”

  “Oh great, the Lord of Evilland just loves surprises from hippies...” the emperor complains aloud as the other students line up behind the goblin and the dog-girl. “He just can't wait to see what that entails...”

  ***

  The class of young kids sits in a circle on the floor as the teacher comes from behind her desk with a bucket – with her assistants standing on each side of her, she reaches into the bucket. “And now, the virtue of the day is...” she pauses her announcement as her hand pulls forth a slip of paper: “sharing!”

  The class applauds in joy at the announcement as the emperor released a flustered sigh - “is this what the 'surprise' is? High-minded moral propaganda? The Lord of Evilland never had of of this nonsense in his childhood and he turned out just fine!”

  “No, this is just the setup” the teacher explains as she turns to face the emperor - “the surprise is that you get the honor of teaching this lesson: just give the class here a story from your childhood about sharing and how it changed your life! Let them know how these life lessons will serve them for years to come and make a difference for these little ones!”

  “Wait, are you fucking kidding?” Audrey interrupts. “You want a genocidal maniac and serial rapist to teach lessons about virtue to kids? I think you've been hitting the hash a bit hard, Rach!”

  “First of all, watch the language here” the teacher scolds her temporary assistant and roommate. “Secondly, I think that this is an opportunity for our fearless lord and emperor here to demonstrate that everyone has some good inside them – even himself.”

  “HA HA HA HA!” the emperor bursts out laughing as he clutches his stomach - “To think that the Lord of Evilland has any goodness in him requires you to fry your brain on those blotter tabs you love so much, but he supposes that he might be able to humor you! The Lord of Evilland will be more than happy to tell you a all a tale of how sharing changed his life forever!”

  “Awesome!” the teacher replies gleefully as she sets the bucket aside and sits on the floor - “take a seat and share your story!”

  “I'm telling you Rach, this isn't a good idea...” the punk assistant reiterates as she takes a seat beside her. “He doesn't have the same values that you do.”

  “Silence whelp!” the emperor scolds the punk before turning his attention to the class. “Today, the Lord of Evilland will share with you all the story of how sharing brought him together with the most influential person of his life – someone who was a mentor to him back in his youth, someone that grew to be like the older sister he never had but wished he did until the day he wished he never knew her at all...”

  ***

  In the mind of the emperor the classroom fades as he returns to the days of his youth – in this time he is but a lad of maybe eleven or twelve years in age (he has since lost count of his true age due to his own unnaturally-extended age – as well as a few knocks to the head he might have sustained back then...): a time when he was an orphan in an Evilland that is in the grips of civil war – a child that had grown much larger, faster than the rest of his peers and was feared by them for his monstrous size and appearance of being prematurely bald as well as cross-eyed. As a boy with no real friends to speak of, he made his way through the world bullying and intimidating other orphaned children into giving up what little they had to him.

  On one particular day in this time, he is seating on a boulder eating some bread and cheese he had taken from some of the local children in the area – as he scarfs down his ill-gotten gains, a young girl appears from behind a couple of nearby bushes: an elf with red, curly hair and freckles all over her face – dressed in a red leotard with a bandoleer of satchels and matching brown leather gloves and boots. “Hey, everyone here says you're the one to stay away from here – yes?” she demands of him as he finishes off his meal.

  “Yeah, everyone stays far away from Zhorg” the monstrous lad replies. “And who are you to come seek him out, small fry?”

  “Someone who can use the muscle of a guy like you” the elf girl answers as she opens one of the satchels she carries. “I heard that you have a big appetite and that you have a liking for the sweet stuff...” she continues as a jelly doughnut appears from the bag. “I got this from a couple of soldiers on guard duty when they weren't looking – consider this a free sample of what I can get for you in exchange for a few favors.”

  “What kind of favors?” Zhorg inquires as he snatches the sweet delight from her hand and shoves it into his gullet. “Zhorg doesn't really play too nice with others...”

  “Well, the others aren't playing too nice with me either...” the elf girl pouts as she sits on a nearby stump. “Nobody trusts me because of these” she continues as she gestures to her pointed ears. “And some of them even ganged up on me last night and took my salvage claim – I want you to help me teach them a lesson, you in?”

  “Ha!” the young Zhorg exclaims - “keep throwing scrumptious treats like this Zhorg's way and he will be more than happy to teach anyone whatever you like! Where are these little bitches?”

  With that remark, the elf girl leads the boy giant out to the remains of a recent battlefield – filled with the corpses of fallen warriors and equipment in various states of repair that looters are combing through for whatever they can sell for a few coins. And among the scavengers are three orphan siblings that made the terrible mistake of robbing the vengeful elf.

  The fight is short and one-sided – Zhorg easily thrashes the trio with his bare fists and psychotic fits of laughter. And then one of the siblings, a young boy, produces a dagger and comes at Zhorg as he cackles over his victory: lunging at the giant's neck only to have his wrist caught with little effort expended on his part – crushing the boy's forearm with minimal exertion. As the boy writhes with pain on the ground, the elf girl casually recovers the dagger he attacked with and places it at his throat before opening his jugular with a sadistic smile on her face.

  “Roy!” a young girl calls out in despair as she rushes to the side of her fallen brother – she tears off a part of her dress and desperately attempts to plug up the gaping wound in his neck as the other brother just looks with his jaw agape in shock at the horror of the scene. “Please don't die! Please don't die!” the girl chants repetitively under her breath as the elf girl leans in towards her.

  “He deserved it” she whispers in her ear. “In fact, you deserve it too! But why should I have all the fun here?” she continues as she turns towards Zhorg. “You game for this?”

  “Ha!” the boy giant exclaims. “Is Zhorg ever? How does this answer your question?” he boldly calls out as he grabs the girl by her – yanking her from her brother's side to hoist her above his head before casually breaking her neck with a flick of his wrist.

  “Guess that answers my question” the elf girl quips, “but you really need to learn a thing or two about savoring the suffering of your enemies – stick with me and I'll happily teach you all I know about that, starting with the last of these fuckers over there” she casually lectures as she points to the last remaining member of the trio with the tip of the dagger. “Grab him...”

  Within moments, Zhorg took hold of the boy without a fight as he is still in shock from the horror he had just witnessed - “I think this one deserves a very special punishment since his siblings aren't around to share the burden with him” she remarks. “Perhaps we take his fingers – all eleven of them...”

  “Eleven?” Zhorg querries – not understanding what the elf girl meant.

  “Eleven.” she remarks once more as she gestures towards the boy's groin with her dagger.

  “Oh! Zhorg gets it now!” the boy giant replies with a great sense of enlightenment. “You most certainly are a mean one... eh... What was the name again?”

  “Miina” the elf girl answers. “I think that this might just be the beginning of a beautiful friendship – your muscle and my insight will leave little piggies like this one in mass graves as we take what's ours! Now, hold him very still...” the elf girl pauses as she reaches out to the pinky finger of the restrained boy's first hand...

  ***

  “The two of us took our time dealing with the final little bastard – then we went into town and got some more jelly donuts to celebrate!” the emperor waxes fondly upon returning to the present as the hippie teacher stares with mouth agape in shock at what she just heard while the punk assistant sports a mildly amused smirk on her face.

  “So, you still think that it was a good idea to let this complete monster teach your class about virtues, Rach?” the punk chides the teacher smugly.

  “I – I...” the hippie teacher stammers upon having her hopes of revealing some basic degree of goodness in the emperor dashes to pieces. “Perhaps...” she interrupts herself with a gaseous outpouring from her bowels, prompting the entire class to break out in hysterical laughter at “Miss Earth-and-Sky's butt music.”

  “Perhaps you should talk to your principal, tell him that this just isn't the right job for a genocidal maniac? Before you make a complete ass of yourself again?” the punk girl mockingly queries her best buddy as her index finger points sideways towards the emperor.

  “Uh... Yes.” the hippie teacher concedes defeat as as rises to her feet. “Just keep an eye on the class while I'm with Mr. Gorak” she continues as she marches towards the door with haste – swiftly closing the door behind her before Audrey could respond.

  “Alright Mr. Zhorg...” the punk girl grunts out as she slowly turns to face the emperor. “You have done quite enough damage today – in a rational and sane world, you would be locked away from the general public for life but that's not an option for us...”

  “Oh boo hoo!” the emperor taunts back at the punk girl. “Your kind are way too soft to make it in the world that the Lord of Evilland came of age in – you would have been put in a mass grave along with the rest of his victims!”

  “But we are not in the world you came of age in!” Audrey retorts. “We are trying to prepare the next generation for a new world – one bloodthirsty cretins like you can't appreciate because you are stuck in the days of non-stop mass killings that seem to be the only way you can get off anymore!”

  “Hey! The Lord of Evilland gets off to so much more than just mass slayings!” the emperor responds angrily. “He gets off to violating his slaves, defiling the offspring of his enemies and...”

  “Good fucking gods!” the punk interrupts the emperor's rant. “That was not an invitation to share your disgusting kinks! You got a lot of things...” she pauses as her pockets begin vibrating. She reaches for her Istone and checks the call log. “Shit, I have to take this – try not to kill anybody for five fucking minutes while I'm out” she blurts out in a hurry as she heads towards the door.

  “Try not to kill anyone for five fucking minutes...” the emperor mockingly repeats the punk girl's last statement before he looks around the room and remembers that the young students are still present. “So, the Lord of Evilland is bored – what do you little brats do for fun?”

  “Simon says!” one child replies immediately.

  “Duck,duck, goose!” another shouts from the crowd.

  “Hide and seek” yet another chimes in.

  “Ugh! Your concept of 'fun' is basic and lacking in exercises that mold you into ideal subjects of Evilland!” the emperor blurts out in frustration.

  “Whats about a lil' bit a stab tag?” Loogrug suggests. “Me pa sayz dat it's da best game for a gobbo ta play!”

  “You know what? Let's do it!” the emperor agrees with nary a thought to the potential consequences as he opens the teacher's desk and pulls out a fresh box of pencils – proceeding to sharpened them into fine points and passing them around the class. “Let's see which of you are worthy to live your lord and master's kingdom!”

  ***

  “Look, I'm telling you that we can't do the gig without a guitar and you broke our last one!” Audrey screams at her band mate through her Orange Istone. “It will be at least another week before the new one gets here, so tell your boy that the gig's off unless he can provide a guitar for us, ok?”

  “Woof woof! Ms. Audrey!” the voice of little Suzy calls from a glass window installed into the classroom door. “Woof woof! Mr. Zhorg is being naughty!”

  “Hold on...” Audrey pauses her conversation with her band mate. “I'm on a stone call, this can wait a few minute, ok?” she replies as she turns her back to the door.

  “But Ms. Audrey! Woof woof! He's having us play...” her sentence is abruptly interrupted as a young goblin stabs the poor dog-girl in the neck, spraying blood all over the window.

  “Alright, if you think that you can get a guitar on loan from your friend we might be able to make the gig – but don't give any guarantees until you it in your hands, ok?” Audrey continues her conversation, ignoring the warnings of the barking child. “Call me back when you got the goods and

  not a moment before, now I got some shit to do!” the concludes her stone call before turning around to notice the ruby red liquid on the classroom side of the door. “Oh fuck!”

  “What in the hells is going on?” Audrey bellows from the bottom of her lungs as she throws the door open, only to be greeted by the sight of nearly the entire class lying dead on the floor – only the little goblin boy and the emperor remain standing, giving each other celebratory high fives in the midst of the carnage.

  “Ha! This whole 'teaching' thing is easy when the Lord of Evilland does it his way!” the emperor confidently chides the punk girl. “You and the hippie can suck it!” he continues as he makes a gesture towards his crotch.

  “You fucking psycho!” the punk girl screams out as she points accusingly towards the emperor - “did you even think about what will happen to Rach? She could lose her job over your stupid, bloodthirsty antics! She could be...”

  “We already know” the cold voice of Principal Gorak announces from behind, interrupting her rant. Audrey spins about rapidly to see her friend beside the principal. “This sucks, but there's a silver lining here in that these poor kids don't have to grow up in Evilland anymore – now, if you excuse me it's time for another drink...” he apathetically concludes his thoughts on the matter before he casually turns around marches right bask to his office as the stunned teacher falls to her knees without uttering a word and begins sobbing.

  “Rach...” Audrey pauses as she kneels down beside the teacher. “I – I just left the room for a minute and this monster just... Just...”

  “It's ok.” the hippie teacher interrupts. “This is all my fault – I should have known better than to believe that there was any goodness in this heartless beast” the utters through tears.

  “You're damn right, hippie!” the emperor agrees with much gusto as he proudly marches towards the grieving pair. “You two just need to understand that the ways of the Lord of Evilland are best and stop contradicting him!”

  “I – I won't argue with you” the hippie quietly whispers. “All I ask of you now is that you let me just grieve over the results of your betrayal.”

  Betrayal... The word echoes through the thick skull of the monster – conjuring memories of his own daughter making deals with elves for his demise. Memories of how Miina...

  No! the emperor rebukes himself within his own mind, pushing those memories back into the dark corners they emerged from. “Hippie! Punk girl!” the Lord of Evilland commands the attention of the grieving pair. “Gather the bodies of the students – there shall be a rite of resurrection this day...”

  ***

  Y'AI'NG'NGAH,

  YOG-SOTHOTH

  H'EE-L'GEB

  F'AI THRODOG

  UAAAH

  The stone alter of the ritual chamber is engulfed in a red glow - bolts of electricity spew forth from the center of the pentagram as the essential salts become flesh once more: the strange energies dissipate as quickly as they came – leaving the body of a young dog girl, fully-formed upon the alter. “Woof woof! I want ice cream!” are the first words coming from Suzy's mouth as she rapidly sits up.

  “Ok Suzy, you had a long day – we'll get all of you guys some Fhtagn-Dazs on the way home” Audrey agrees to placate the child as she passes her a black cloak to cover herself with. “Now go step into the hall outside with your classmates.”

  “You go join the students” the hippie instructs her punk assistant. “I have a few words to have with Mr. Zhorg in private...”

  “Uh...” Audrey hesitates. “Alright. I'll be right by the door if you need me.”

  Just as the punk girl closes the door behind her, the hippie throws her arms around the emperor as tears of joy stream down her face - “thank you!” she enthusiastically blubbers through the tears. “I knew that there was something more to you – a heart of gold beneath the darkness!”

  “Remove your hands, hippie!” the emperor rebukes her as he pulls her arms from around himself and tosses her against the alter. “There's no goodness in the Lord of Evilland and there never was! It's just that... Well... He doesn't want to be known as a traitor! There are some lows even he won't stoop to...”

  “And why not?” the hippie teacher queries as she regains her balance against the alter of the ritual chamber. “Surely there must be some good in you if there are depths even you won't descend towards.”

  “It's not about morality, just reputation!” the emperor insists as he raises his fist in the air. “Now don't argue with that unless you wish to come to harm!”

  “Mr. Zhorg...” the hippie whispers as she shakes her head. “You might have everyone else fooled, but not me – I know you're hurt.”

  “Wha... Why... The Lord of Evilland doesn't...” the emperor stammers as he attempts a rebuttal.

  “Listen, I see it in your actions” the hippie chides the emperor – you feel powerful when you hurt people because you are in pain. Tell me who hurt you.”

  The emperor stands in silence, his fists clenched at his sides as he struggles to restrain himself from killing the hippie where she stands – and yet he has no rebuttal to give as he knows in his heart that she speaks the truth.

  “I see...” the hippie whispers. “You aren't ready, but when you are I promise that I will be there and I will listen” she concludes her statement as she leaves through the chamber door, leaving the emperor alone with his own thoughts.

  ***

  Hours pass and the Lord of Evilland remains standing by the alter of the ritual chamber stewing in his rage – angry at the past betrayals he has suffered. Angry at the fact that some godsdamn hippie can see through him. Angry at his own inability to do anything in the face of having his macho facade uncovered...

  “My Lord?” the voice of his intern beckons through the door of the ritual chamber. “Hey, are you down there my Lord?” she continues to call out to her master as she opens the door. “There you are! Oh, it was quite a day and I needed every gram of South Jungle marching powder to get through it! It was all sexy photo shoots, all day and I got to bring home a few naughty outfits from the shoots – if you like I can give you a private fashion show later and if you want to... Take it a few steps further...” Lavinia hints with a suggestive tone in her voice.

  “Save it whelp” the emperor abruptly silences his faithful servant and longing sycophant. “The Lord of Evilland commands you to tell him who introduced him to the hippie he has been stuck with all day.”

  “Huh?” the intern pauses with a confused look upon her face. “I... I guess that would be me. But I don't see why you have to worry about that anymore – I'll be more that happy to distract you from that shit if you just let...”

  An armored fist interrupts her by crushing her face – followed by yet another. And another. And another. Without another word, the emperor continues to beat her until her head is just red paste on the floor.

  With the intern dead and the silent rage of the Lord of Evilland finally satisfied for the moment, the emperor realizes that he has just slain a valuable source of labor that he will have a very hard time replacing. With an annoyed sigh, he picks up the body and resets the ritual chamber...