That's Our Deathcules
“That’s Our Deathcules” is filmed before a studio audience suspended in a state somewhere between life and death.
Interior Shot. Tyler and Taylor are both seated on the couch, Tyler’s face still red from crying. Deathcules enters.
“Wretched jailers, I have brought the refreshments demanded.” Using his enormous claws, Deathcules daintily lifts the mugs of cocoa from the tray, setting one down in front of each child. They perk up quickly, although Tyler is a bit slower to react than Taylor.
Wiping away a trail of snot from his nose, Tyler sips loudly from the mug, revealing a melted marshmallow mustache once the cup is finally removed. “Thanks Mr. Deathcules. Our mom should be home soon. Sorry to bother you.”
Deathcules crumples the tray in his hand, metal caving as easily as paper. Even here, he was powerful. Strong and deadly, a nigh unstoppable force. Only, it didn’t matter. Not in this realm, where such might was meaningless. “She will not free me from your torment until the day’s issue is resolved. Why do you persist in this pageantry?”
“It’s all the meanie from the park’s fault.” Taylor gulped down her hot chocolate with abandon, heat from the liquid willfully ignored. Deathcules had no idea if these two could even feel pain, the rules of this world had never been made clear to him. “Abner Applegate is such a… a… a butthole!”
Tyler gasped, along with an unseen chorus, while Deathcules shifted his enormous black wings so he could take a seat as well. Unlike the kids, who were sitting on a pastel sofa that matched the rest of the décor, Deathcules took his rest on a throne made from the bones of his conquered foes. At least, that was how he imagined it. His old chair, from his old life. In truth, it had the appearance of nothing more than a simple black recliner, albeit an enormous one to fit his incredible size.
“You used a bad word!” Tyler accused, peering fearfully out from behind his cocoa mug. After a few seconds, he whispered once more. “But Abner is a meanie. He pushed me off my bike, and told me it was ugly. I don’t want to play there anymore.”
“So, today it is an adversary that threatens your hollow peace.” Deathcules pressed his clawed fingers together, clacking them against one another and producing a sound like talons on marble. “You seek to flee before a greater force. Lessers will tell you this is an act of cowardice, but there is wisdom in discretion. Untold lives could have been spared if they had simply moved from my path, rather than attempt to stand against me.”
With a sharp giggle, Taylor pretended to swoon in shock. “You used to get in fights, Mr. Deathcules? Did you have a bully too?”
He snorted, producing a pillar of dark flame from his nostrils. The idea was ridiculous to the point of insulting. But, as he sat on the notion more, Deathcules realized there were some situational parallels, because there always were. That was one of the ways this place tormented him.
“Not a bully, no. An adversary. A challenger. One whose power demanded respect and consideration.”
“But you’re so strong,” Tyler pointed out. “Someone really was as tough as you?”
The hateful snicker Deathcules let out should have killed every plant and small animal in a hundred yards, but the bluebirds screeching their horrible tunes in his garden were one more reminder of things not working properly. “Nowhere near as tough or strong, but tricky. Mages and their cunning, a painful pairing, and this one proved exceptionally gifted.”
Both of the twins were staring up at him now, innocence shining on their cherub-like faces. Taylor half-climbed over her brother to get a better look up. “Golly gee! So how did you deal with your bully, Mr. Deathcules?”
How? Did this monster really have the gall to ask such a question, as if she didn’t know? As if she and her brother weren’t key cogs in this endless cycle? While it had been many years since his last outburst, Deathcules felt the fury burning within. It was pointless, and he knew that without question, yet the rage came all the same.
“Very well, let us see this ridiculous dance through to the end. That slithering trickster gathered powerful artifacts from all over the lands, using their magics to forge an unbreakable cage. When at last we met, he sprung the insidious trap, choosing to bind me rather than accept his rightful defeat.”
Deathcules was on his feet, no reaction from Tyler or Taylor, even as the monstrous hooves slammed holes into the floor. Of course they weren’t afraid. They weren’t even real. None of this was, and in that moment, Deathcules could bear it no longer. He grabbed the rafters of his ceiling, shattering them to splinters in his mighty grip. The house caved around him, burying the twins, saving him for a moment from those endless stares. With a flap of his wings, Deathcules took to the sky.
Fire rained down on the city of Sandyburg, billowing and hellish as it consumed the slice of small-town perfection. Deathcules savored the heat flowing from his mouth, it felt so right to be himself once more. Except, the act was an empty one. All of the details were off, there were no screams from the innocents, or pathetic defense being mounted by the survivors. The world kept right on turning, as if there wasn’t a giant monster tearing apart the town. Right up until-
“Hey Deathcules, whacha thinking about?” Taylor asked.
They were back in the living room, which was unharmed, as were the kids and the rest of the town. All his efforts, reduced to mere fantasy. Bound forever to this unchanging constant. “I am thinking about the power of the status quo. This place is a prison unlike any other. It refuses substantial change of any kind, warping reality to preserve what already exists. One day, when I find my freedom, the mage will suffer unfathomable nightmares in vengeance.”
“Can I use that to stand up to Abner?” Tyler had finished his cocoa, and was not-so-subtly poking the mug in the hopes there might be more.
Exasperated as Deathcules was, the kids wouldn’t be picked up by their mom until things were resolved. Tapping the left horn on his imposing skull, Deathcules mulled things over. “Have you made overtures at friendship with the adversary?”
Taylor patted her brother on the back. “See! I told you, the best solution is to become buddies.”
“Absolutely. A surprise blade to the back works far better when their guard is let down.”
Tyler and Taylor both laugh, joined once more by the unseen chorus, breaking eye contact to look at one another as they speak in unison. “That’s our Deathcules!”
Fade to commercial.