Anime-Inspired Fiction Contest!

Howdy folx,

Here are each of the entries that were received for the Anime-Inspired fiction contest. Magical Girls, 80's style action, and more! One of the submitted stories even came with a piece of artwork from the author. Congratulations to Ben Arzate and S.T. Cartledge on winning First Place. Enjoy! 

-M

Content Trigger Warning: Some of these stories contain disturbing and/or very NSFW content. Reader discretion is advised.

 

Violent Bitch Hitomi

by Ben Arzate

Hitomi put her thick glasses on and went out to the balcony. She picked up the Harlequin romance novel on the chair, sat down, and started reading. Across the street, a building was being reconstructed. She often wondered how that office building got leveled in the Great Collapse, but this dingy apartment building was somehow almost untouched. The roof got fucked up and it was without power for a year, but that was nothing compared to what happened through most of the city.

Hitomi sat reading. She got lost in the fantasy on the pages until she was snapped out by the barking and yelling that came from up the street. She peered over the balcony. Jack came into view and ran across the parking lot below her. The black hound crouched down and sprang up. It hopped the two floors and landed on the balcony. Hitomi kneeled down, looking down at the black dog's three eyes and scratching his head to calm him.

“What's going on, Jack?” she said.

Jack responded. She had never gotten used to the way he spoke. Most heard it as just barking. Hitomi heard it both as barking and speaking. It was like she was wearing a pair of headphones where nothing but woofing came through the left ear while clear English came in through the right.

“You've got to get downtown, Hitomi!” Jack said, accompanied by barks. “Some G.E.T members got a hold of a neohuman and took over the Radford Credit Union building! They're turning the place into a damn slaughterhouse!”

The God of the End Times cult. They were a bunch of psychos who believed that the Great Collapse was the first stage of the return of God and they were the chosen people to bring about the end of humanity and begin the final judgment. They were probably the most dangerous of all the groups that popped up after the Collapse. They were set on human genocide and had no fear of death whatsoever, they were fanatics convinced they'd be sent straight to heaven.

Hitomi nodded. She ran back inside and threw the book on the bed. She sat the glasses on her dresser and pulled her jeans and T-shirt off, revealing a bright red leotard with several rips under her clothes. She ran back out on the balcony as Jack jumped off. She grabbed the railing of the balcony and flipped over it, landing next to Jack on her feet.

Jack took off past the parking lot and down the road with Hitomi following close behind. As Jack began to outrun her, Hitomi dropped to all fours and began catching up. The black and red blurs rushed across the cracked pavement, dodging the many sections cordoned off for rebuilding.

* * *

Hitomi and Jack arrived at the Radford building. A large crowd of onlookers was standing behind the tape the City Guard had set up. Several soldiers stood at the ready just outside the building, a tank parked in the front of all of them.

Jack and Hitomi slowed down and weaved through the crowd to the soldier yelling through a megaphone.

“For the last time,” the soldier said, “this is an extremely dangerous situation! Keep your distance! The next one who comes too close will be arrested on sight!”

The soldier turned away. Hitomi walked up and taped the soldier on the soldier. The soldier whipped back around.

“Goddammit!” he yelled. He stopped and saw her standing there. “Oh, it's you.” he said. “Don't do that. Get over here, I'll lead you to the lieutenant.”

The solder lead Hitomi and Jack past the others to the front, near where the tank was parked. As she got closer, she could see there a big hole blown in the side of the building. Three dead bodies were sprawled out in front of it, they were torn to shreds. Once upon the time, the sight of those mangled carcasses would have made Hitomi gag, but by now she'd seen things a thousand times worse.

“Lieutenant,” the solider said to the man in uniform next to the tank. Lt. Rodriguez turned to them.

“Ah! Good, you're here. I guess Jack here filled you in on what happened,” he said.

“Most of it. Any idea if anyone innocent is still alive in there?” Hitomi said.

“We're not sure, but we're pretty certain there is,” Lt. Rodriguez said. “It's why we haven't just shelled the place until there's nothing left. Better to lose the building than let those lunatics and that freak get away. But we can't risk it if anyone else is still alive. That's why we're sending you in.”  

“Careful lieutenant,” she said. “I'm one of those 'freaks' too.”

“You're not anywhere near this, baby,” he said, “This neohuman's a stage five. I have no idea how those G.E.T guys got this thing here without it tearing them to apart. It's been running loose in there and killing everyone in sight. We've got snipers taking shots through the windows, but they don't even faze it.”

Stage five was the worst of the neohumans. They were more beast than human in appearance and behavior and were incredibly hostile, driven by base hunger and nothing else. Hitomi herself was a rare stage three. Her mutation during the Great Collapse had changed her profoundly but she had full control of it and maintained all her senses. Like most of the known stage threes, she'd been recruited by the New Federation of City-States as a soldier. Hitomi preferred to think of herself as a superhero rather than a soldier, though. It offered little solace, but in times like this, you take what you can get.

She nodded to the lieutenant. “If there's anyone alive, I'll get them out.”

With that, she transformed. It brought to mind a werewolf movie in the way her nails and teeth sprang out like switchblades, a wispy layer of hair appeared on her arms, hair, and cheeks, and her limbs extended. By the time she had finished, she towered over Lt. Rodriguez who was normally a head taller than her. The red leotard she wore had gained two more rips, clinging tightly on to her now much larger body.

With Jack by her side, she stomped into the Radford building.

* * *

As Hitomi entered the lobby, the smell of blood hit her hard. Mutilated bodies, torn up limbs, and intestines were littered about. Much of the furniture had been destroyed and the cubicles nearby had been flattened. Bullet holes were in the walls and floor. Hitomi shook her head and headed towards the counter. She saw that a hole had been torn in the ceiling behind it. Before she had a chance to investigate it, she heard gunshots. She ran toward the sound and found it was coming from the vault. The door was open and she saw a  man in fatigues and a balaclava with his back turned to her standing in the doorway. She saw he was holding an AK. She approached him slowly.

Just before she got to him, a similarly dressed man in the vault shouted to him. He quickly turned around to face her. It was too late. She grabbed his head and slammed it hard against the wall. He slid into a heap on the floor, his blood leaving a streak on the vault wall. She turned to the other man in the vault. He was standing next to a group of tellers and customers kneeling on the ground. They were all clearly frightened. One woman lay on the ground with a fresh gunshot wound in her forehead, a young boy was crying over her body.

He started firing on Hitomi. The bullets hitting her felt like someone trying to flick her all over her body. She advanced towards him quickly. Seeing that his gun wasn't working on the neohuman woman in front of him, he turned it towards the crowd.

“Stop heathen! Leave now or I'll shoot them all!” he said.

Hitomi stopped and raised her hands. She started to back away. While the G.E.T cultist was focused on her, Jack sprinted between her legs. He leaped at the cultist's throat and bit it out. The cultist squeezed the trigger, but the burst of gun fire hit the wall.

Jack spat out the man's flesh and blood. “Piece of shit. He must have been trying to win some conversions and shooting those that refused,” Jack turned to Hitomi. “I'll watch these folks. You go take care of the rest of these crazy fucks and the neohuman.”

“Right. I'll be back soon,” she said.

As Hitomi exited the vault, Jack started licking the face of the boy crying over the dead woman, trying to comfort him.

* * *

Hitomi had climbed up six floors. Each one of floors reeked of blood. It was times like this, she hated her enhanced sense of smell. She encountered G.E.T members on each of the floors. They impotently fired on her and she sent them all to the heaven they were working for. She slashed at them, caved in their skulls, tore them half. With every floor she got more vicious to the cultists as she got angrier from the carnage she witnessed on each one. She kept following holes in the ceiling, tracking the stage fiver.

The sixth floor was strangely clean and quiet. It had clearly been empty, even before the cult had shown up. Despite that, it smelled even worse than all the other floors. The blood was still there, but there was something else that she didn't recognize. She followed her nose to a corner office. A pool of blood was seeping out from under the door.

Hitomi threw the office door open. The stench was like a punch in the face. The room looked worse than the rest of the building. It was like someone had taken a paint roller and worked the place over with a bucket of blood. There were even more bodies here, but Hitomi saw that most of them were G.E.T members. Most were missing limbs or their heads, their intestines lay spilled out of their abdomens. A few looked like they had been split clean down the middle from the groin up. In the corner, the stage fiver sat gnawing on one of the bodies. It resembled a bird from the waist up, covered in feathers, a head like an eagle, talons for hands, and wings on its back. The lower half resembled a naked man's. Its legs were muscular and it sported a massive hard on. It had clearly turned on the cult when it ran out of others to feed on.

The stage fiver looked up at Hitomi and let out a screech that rattled the windows, the dead cultist's guts falling from its beak. She clapped her hands over her ears. The smell and the sound disoriented her. By the time she realized the stage fiver was flying at her, it was too late.

The stage fiver knocked her on her back and swiped at her face with one of its talons. She cried out as it dug three deep cuts in her face, its claw barely missing her eye. It swung with its other talon, but Hitomi was able to crane her neck away from it. It still scratched her but not nearly as deep. As it was about to bring its other talon back down, she reached up and grabbed it. The stage fiver squawked in confusion.

Hitomi sent a hook right into its face. It would have been sent straight across the room had she not had a grip on it. Instead, it flopped hard right next to her. Its beak had nearly cracked in half from Hitomi's blow. She stood up, let its talon go, and brought her foot down on to its chest. Its body shook, still squawking, and buried its claws in her calf muscle. She grit her teeth and winced, but pressed her foot down harder. She bent down and stuck her own claws in the stage fiver's feathery neck. It screeched louder and louder until, with one good yank, she pulled its head clean off.

The head went dead and silent right away, but the body went spastic. It shook like it was having a seizure, flapping its wings, flailing its arms and legs as blood sprayed out of the stump of its neck. Before it finally went limp, it ejaculated all over its own feathers.

Once upon a time, a sight like that would have made Hitomi throw up. Instead, she lifted the stage fiver's head up, spit in it, and tossed it aside. She limped over to the window and examined her face in her reflection in the window. The cuts on the one side of her face were deep, but they'd heal without any problems. She bent down and licked the wounds on her leg, the same was true of the bleeding holes in her calf. She'd suffered worse without even being scarred.

As she headed back down to the vault, she transformed back to her normal self. She figured after what the people in the vault at been through, they'd probably prefer to be lead out to safety by someone who at least looked like a normal human.

END

Ben Arzate lives in Des Moines, IA. He writes and he lives life, often forgetting to do the latter. His poetry and fiction have appeared in various places online and in print, including Bizarro Central, The Mustache Factor, Ugly Babies, TwentySomething Press, and Pretty Owl Poetry. He is a contributor to Cultured Vultures and blogs at dripdropdripdropdripdrop.blogspot.com. His first poetry book, the sky is black and blue like a battered child, is available on Amazon.

SUPER MAGICAL BAKA-CHAN!

by S.T. Cartledge

Haru Toriyama lay down on Shinji Otomo's bed with her English notebook propped open on his pillow and a photocopy of 'The Yellow Wallpaper' by Charlotte Perkins Gilman right beside it. The short story was covered in notes and green highlighter, and she was expanding the notes into an essay in her notebook. Shinji sat at his desk with his computer open to a webpage detailing the history of aliens both on earth and out in space, and how their existence has been hidden for centuries.

Shinji and Haru were both fifteen, and they had been in the same classes at school their whole lives. Shinji had short brown hair and grey-green eyes. He was skinny, and his hairless face made him look about 12 years old, even though he had grown about a foot and a half in the last year. His bedroom walls were plastered with posters of aliens, UFOs, and other mystical creatures like dragons and yetis which were rumoured to exist. His bookshelves were loaded with manga and anime - Dragon Ball & Dragon Ball Z, Akira, Death Note, Ghost in the Shell, Nausicaa of the Valley of the Wind, but his favourites were the works of Tsutomu Nihei - Blame!, Biomega, Knights of Sidonia.

Haru liked to read his manga too, Fullmetal Alchemist was her favourite, although her bookshelves at home were filled more with novels than comics. Kurt Vonnegut, Richard Brautigan, Haruki Murakami, China Mieville, amongst many others. Her hair was shoulder-length dirty blonde, and her eyes were a bright emerald green. Her school uniform consisted of a white shirt with a light green bow, dark green plaid skirt, knee high white socks. Her shoes were flat and black with a silver buckle. She wore a green headband in her hair. Her phone on the bed buzzed and dinged. Its rubber case was a Totoro smiling up at her. She picked it up and stared at the message.

"Ah!" she said.

When are you coming home? - Mum

The time was 6:45PM.

She sprung off the bed and folded her schoolwork up, dumping it into her bag in one swift motion.

"Shinji-san, I was meant to be home half an hour ago."

"I'll walk you home," he said.

"Thanks," Haru said, "But I'll be okay. Bye Shinji!"

She walked past Yoshi's room and he leaned into the hallway and called out, "Hey Toriyama, nice ass!"

She ignored him and went straight for the front door.

"Hey Shinji, have you shown her your dick yet?"

"Fuck you!" Shinji called back.

Haru was out the door and down the street, heart beating hard, those words ringing in her head.

Shinji doesn't think of me that way, does he? We're friends. Just friends. And Yoshi, the gross pervert. Never in a million years.

Her eyes were misty, and she gazed vacantly out into the dark, cloudy sky. Her feet knew the way back home from walking the path a million times. Her phone buzzed and dinged again.

Well? Your dinner is getting cold. - Mum

She unlocked her phone and typed back.

Sorry! Studying at Shinji's. OMW now - Haru

Baka! Hurry up, your mum is FLIPPING OUT!!! - Dad

She started replying to her father, but the sound of a nearby explosion ripped her attention from the screen. A loud cry rang out through the twilight air, half a cry for help and half a cry in pain. Haru found herself running towards it, phone clutched tight in hand, scanning the street for signs of the victim or the damage from the explosion. The cries grew louder and transformed into screams of absolute pain and terror. Her run became a sprint. The victim's desperation soaked into Haru and inflicted her with panic. What could cause such terrible sounds?

A nearby lamp post flickered on and off outside the local Blockbuster Video store which had closed down a few years back. The light flashed down on the footpath, what looked like blood. A trail disappearing down the laneway between Blockbuster and the bakery next door. She followed the blood as it turned black in the shadow of the buildings. The laneway was dim, but Haru could make out the dulled images of bright graffiti art covering the walls. There were a few shitty tags, but the majority of the walls were taken up by murals of dragons and tigers, and a big beautiful girl in the middle with long dark hair and silver eyes, wearing an intricate black and white layered dress with red trimming and lace. Her face was the expression of pure joy, so innocent and sweet.

And yet Haru could see from the light cast down from the street on the other side, the silhouette of two figures down the far end. The attacker standing over the victim, his body was a dark mass of misshapen muscles, lumps upon lumps of flesh moving and growing, taking up more space in the laneway by the moment. His fingers were sharp talons held up high before gouging down savagely into the victim's soft belly. She screamed like hell, and Haru stood there part-way down the laneway struck in silent horror, watching helplessly, wondering if the grotesque thing would come for her next, if she should run and call for help, would it be too late? What if here and now was her only chance to help this poor woman?

The screaming shook Haru to tears. She felt an anger and frustration directed at herself, welling up, ready to burst. She clutched her head and cursed herself for not knowing what to do, for lacking the impulse to do something. For that fucking joy-filled face on that mural mocking, tormenting, putting on this facade while this space was consumed by violence.

A burst of golden light came from the mural, from the girl's face, and the whole laneway became illuminated with its warm aura. There was a girl in the flesh, matching the image of the mural, landing in the middle. She had knee-high boots, shiny and black. Her hair flowed down past her waist. The attacker looked up at the magical girl. He stepped away from his victim and towards the girl. By her light Haru could see clearly now that this thing was not human, definitely not human. Some mutant form of cancerous rot, a necrotic being waving his bloody red fingers at the girl.

Haru crouched by the wall, trying to make herself smaller. In the new light she didn't want to beast to discover her too. He charged at the magical girl, but she stood strong, confident, and fired a disc of light from her hand, which ripped humming through the air and sliced off a layer of black pulsing flesh from the beast's face.

"Stay back!" the girl called out to Haru.

The beast tumbled along the ground and howled in pain. The girl jumped out of the way and fired another disc at the beast, cutting its leg clean off.

On the far side, the injured woman lay on the ground, clothes torn, flesh shining red with her blood. She was gasping in pain, drained of all energy. She was dying.

The beast hobbled onto his foot and tried to leap at the girl. Haru sprung from her spot and sprinted past the beast and the girl.

"I said stay back!" the girl said.

The beast grazed a claw against her arm, ripping a strip of flesh away. She spun around and blew his arm off. She winced in pain as he writhed on the ground. She fired a disc of light into his chest which tore it to shreds. The beast was still.

Haru leaned over the woman, sobbing, holding her gently, dabbing at the blood, trying to put pressure on the wounds to keep her from bleeding. The woman screamed. She tried to push Haru back but she was too weak. Her eyes rolled back in her head and her body gave up its fight. She lay limp on the ground, blood oozing over her body, covering every bit of flesh. The blood glittered in the light and melted away at the body until there was just a puddle and a pile of shredded clothes. The clothes were similar to the girl's. A black and white dress, but this one had purple woven into it, purple laced and ribboned and now torn and soaked in sparkling blood.

There was a lump in the puddle, a shiny metal orb. Haru plucked it up and clutched it tight. It was warm.

"Haru, what did I tell you?" the girl said.

She turned to Haru from the defeated beast. She ignored the wound down her arm, instead staring at Haru, taking notice of the orb she had picked up.

"Put that thing down right now, Haru. Put it down and go home," she said.

The voice sounded familiar. This girl was so brave and awesome. Haru tried to put the orb down, but it was stuck to her. It pressed into her hands and the metal morphed its way onto her flesh and up her arms. It moved quickly. It burned off her clothes and coated her whole body. When it was done her body turned black and glittered with starlight. A dress burst out from within. It hugged her body perfectly, comfortable, and billowed out around the black and white striped stockings on her legs. She had bright green ribbons and lace on her dress, a massive green bow in her hair, which now hung down past her shoulders.

"No," the girl said. "No, no, no. This can't happen." She smacked herself in the head. "Baka. Baka! BAKA!" She screamed into the night and fell to her knees.

"Yuuko-chan?" Haru said softly.

The girl looked up. "I'm sorry Haru. You should never have been mixed up in this."

Her skin flashed with space, glittering stars, then her clothes transformed into a plain white shirt and black skirt. Her hair was shorter now, sitting just above her waist.

"Yuuko-chan! Your arm..." Haru said.

Yuuko's wound flashed a bright white light and then disappeared.

"Don't worry about me, little sister, look at what you've become." Yuuko got to her feet and helped Haru up.

"What is this, Yuuko? What happened?" Haru said.

"You're a magical girl now," Yuuko gestured at the dress. "You have incredible power within you, but the demons will be hunting you now."

"Demons?" Haru said. "That thing... was a-"

"A demon, yes. Tortured souls. Dark creatures who want to inflict pain on others." Yuuko said. "But don't worry, I will protect you."

Yuuko pulled Haru into a hug. Haru stared at the body of the demon behind Yuuko. Its dead flesh had melted away. Where the demon's face had been sliced off, there was human flesh. Its dismembered limbs and its shredded torso were human.

"Ah! Yuuko-chan, why does that thing look like a human?" Haru said.

Yuuko pulled back from her hug, held Haru by the shoulders and looked right into her eyes. "You need to remember that demons are very dangerous creatures, Haru. They poison human bodies and transform into monsters like the one you saw here. When they're dead, they take on human form once again."

"I don't want them to hunt me," Haru said.

"I know," Yuuko said. She pulled Haru back into another hug. "I didn't want that for you either. I will keep you safe. I promise."

Haru's body flashed with space and her school uniform returned. She clutched her sister tight and wished she could never let go.

 S.T. Cartledge is a bizarro/weird fiction author and poet from Perth, Western Australia. He has published four books: House Hunter, Day of the Milkman, Beautiful Madness (poetry), and Kaiju Canyon, and two books coming soon in 2017: The Orphanarium (Eraserhead Press) and Girl in the Glass Planet (Bizarro Pulp Press). He has 2 dogs and 6 cats. He loves his manga and anime with a good dose of science fiction and/or horror, the works of Tsutomu Nihei being a prime example.

Demolition Derby

by Amber Fallon

    The roar of the crowd mingled with the salty sweet aroma of blood, bandages, beer, and stale popcorn. The clatter of roller skates on the polished and pitted wooden track added to the din as the girls rounded a corner, speeding after one another in a mayhem ballet, a tournament of turbulence and destruction.

    Huddled below one of the plastic bench seats in the Bleeder Box at the forefront of the arena, a small boy watched the action from a rat’s eye perspective. The tot was separated from the gruesome track only by a section of dirty chain link fence which had bits of something reddish, rust or maybe blood, clinging to it at random intervals.

    Headphones that were far too large for the boy clamped his small head like a vice, leaving his pale blonde hair sticking out at odd angles. Smooth, resounding notes of classical music played through the earpieces, echoing above the din and adding to the illusion of some sort of ghastly dance being acted out in front of him - a haunting melody the backdrop as Terrifying Tara ripped Deadly Darlene to shreds.

    The lean, long limbed forms of the combatants whirled and twirled in violent motion so much like a passionate dance. Only inches separated them at times.     A crescendo peaked as blood splashed across the shining hardwood, speckled with teeth and bits of bone and gore.

    Tara ripped through Darlene’s torso with a long blade fastened to her forearm with thick bolts, sending bits of gristle and a ropey length of intestine into the cluster of clamoring fans pressed up against the fence blocking in the tight confines of the Trauma Track.

    Darlene arched back, blood spraying in a crimson fountain as an aria contrasted with the brutal scene, everything reflected in the small boy’s huge eyes.

    Terrifying Tara licked her shining blade and grinned at the crowd. The patchwork of multihued flesh, held together with uneven stitches and gleaming staples, stretched and pulled in slightly different directions across her ghoulish face.  

    Tara soaked in the cheers and cat calls, pausing for just a moment, a fatal mistake. In that second when Tara swam in her reverie, drinking in the glory of her kill like wine, Gory Goldie dashed forward, laying a burst of savage speed, coming around the corner with a shattering surprise - a bone splintering bludgeon to Tara’s head.

    Tara went down inches from the Bleeder Box, mismatched fingers twitching as she spasmed; death - and defeat - a dire welcome.

    Gory Goldie threw up her arms in triumph, but she would not make the same mistake as her unfortunate victim. She swung around in the same fluid motion, with the beauty and grace of the woodwinds that accompanied her movements over the small boy’s headphones, and swung her weapon, acting almost on instinct.

    A dark length of battered metal connected solidly just under Violet Viscera’s chin, sending her reeling and spinning, crashing against the fence where the rabid spectators tore her to bits, reaching their hungry, grasping hands through the wide links and finishing the job for a grateful Goldie.

    Now only two girls remained in the arena; Goldie herself and the spectacle that was the heretofore undefeated Murderous Marcy.

    Ancient looking Christmas lights, strung around the arena like stars, glinted off of Marcy’s armor like a beetle’s carapace. She grinned a humorless grin that was a bit off kilter and slightly too wide on one side. Goldie screamed, roaring a challenge that sounded like an arpeggio to the ears of a small boy as the floor began to tremble, a tumultuous dance to the stomping feet of the fans, bloodthirsty hungry for destruction.     The girls danced their deadly dance, careening faster and faster as they closed in on each other, speeding past the voracious viewers, weapons, armor, pale, bruised and bleeding flesh a blur in the dim and dismal artificial light.

    The boy’s breath hung still, caught in is throat as his eyes darted over the scene, enrapt and entranced by the obliterating operetta taking place on the track. His fingers played smoothly over a small square control box in front of him, red and black buttons and the slender shaft of a joystick dancing like the girls as they neared each other for the final furious fight.     Violins and violence, flutes and fury, pianos and pain, all became one as the boy’s agile digits darted over the device in front of him.

    A twist! And Goldie parried Marcy’s devastating attack, knocking her off balance and nearly ending the fight right there. A flick of the wrist and Goldie was back on her feet, vigilance and violence restored.

    The sanguinary sonata played on as once again Marcy sped around a corner, scraping her blade along the arena's one concrete wall, a shower of sparks marking her passing as the crowd called for the kill.

    Goldie swept in close but once again Marcy dodged the brutal blow, staving off defeat for one more moment.

    A symphony of agonies both real and imagined awaited the loser, the bitter taste of dishonor and defeat, and then respite.

    The remaining pieces of the girls would be gathered up and brought to the chop shop below the arena where they would be combined with whatever pilfered parts had been scavenged for the wanton workshop, vile preparations for another scintillating show.

    Goldie’s blade glinted, glittering in the dim glow of the multicolored lights as Marcy made her move, darting forward on pink skates.

    Marcy whipped around the corner, feinting right and delivering a devastating decapitation with a well-timed sweep of her arm.

    Elsewhere in the arena, an electric guitar screeched a high pitched chord into the ears of a small, dark haired girl in a ratty red velvet dress. She giggled as she set down her control box and wiped a stray splatter of blood from her cheek. Her victory tasted as sweet as candy.

Amber Fallon lives in Massachusetts with her husband and two dogs. A techie by day and horror writer by night, Mrs. Fallon has spent time as a bank manager, motivational speaker, produce wrangler, and butcher. Her obsessions with sushi, glittery nail polish, and sharp objects have made her a recognized figure.
Amber's publications include The Terminal, Daughters of Inanna, So Long and Thanks for All the Brains, Horror on the Installment Plan, Zombies For a Cure, Quick Bites of Flesh, Operation Ice Bat, and more!
For more information, please visit her at www.amberfallon.net and listen to her podcast, It Cooks! 

                                                          Little Akane in Slumberland 

                                                               by Jimmye Winburn

 
    After a night so fitful and unsettling that Akane couldn’t now be sure whether she was awake or dreaming, she discovered Ranma-chan floating into her room.
     “Ranma?  Why are you floating?”
    She smiled and said, “It’s a new technique.”
    “Where did you learn how to do this?”
    Ranma floated closer to her bed.  “From China.  All the best techniques come from China. Don’t you think?”
    Akane pulled her covers closer.
    Ranma held out her hand with a surprisingly feminine and delicate motion, given her girl form gestures generally usually mirroring those of her boy form.  “Let me show you,” she said.  “I promise you’ll like it.”
    Akane was reluctant to come out from behind her blanket.  “Why are you a girl now?  Did you fall into the pond again?”
    “No, nothing like that.”  Ranma circled in the air over her bed like a dog settling into its bed.  She pulled the blanket away, but gently as Akane did not resist.
    “Ah,” said Ranma, as she saw that Akane was without clothing.  “So you DO hate men after all.”
    “I don’t hate men.  Just you.”
    “Then we’re in luck,” she said, offering her hand once more.  “So do I.”
    Akane took the proffered hand in hers.  She was taken with how similar Ranma-chan’s hand was to hers.  She had the curious notion that she was somehow holding her own hand.   Without thinking how she was able to so, Akane too floated up into the air.
    Ranma pulled their clasped hands up between them so that each could feel the other’s breasts.  This movement flipped the women around in the air and brought their faces up that they were almost touching.  Akane was startled.  “Ranma!”
    “You don’t really hate me, do you, Akane?”   She looked at Akane’s lips for a moment.
    “Your boy form is--”
    “A jerk.  Yes, I know.  But you don’t hate ME, do you?”
    “I…I…”
    “I’m so glad.”  Ranma came forward and pressed her lips against Akane’s.   Akane did not kiss back, but she didn’t pull away either.  “So glad.”
    Akane brought her free hand up and rested it on Ranma’s arm, now devoid of her customary Chinese shirt.  Ranma’s free arm then came around to embrace Akane.   Both arms adjusted until they were locked in a firm but gentle embrace.  Akane’s head rested on Ranma’s shoulder.  She was taken with how soft Ranma’s skin was.  She could feel the warmth of her breath on Ranma’s neck as though she were experiencing everything that Ranma did.
    “So glad,” Ranma whispered.
    Akane was only slightly aware that her bedroom had vanished and that the two were flying through the air.  She didn’t know how high up they were. It wasn’t important.   There was nothing around them but clouds, star, and the moon.  Indeed, distance itself seemed meaningless, as though she could reach out and touch the moon yet extend her toes to glance along the top of the clouds.
    Ranma released Akane’s hand and brought her arm up to feel Akane’s shoulder.   She then caressed down her side.  Akane could again feel how Ranma relished the softness of her skin and the outline of her curves.  They were no longer two people but one, each one feeling what the other felt.   It didn’t seem like lovemaking nor did Akane think of it that way.  It was simply the worship of everything female.  It was softness.  It was warmth.  And most of all, it was beautiful.  Akane half vocalized that one word over and over… beautiful… beautiful… beautiful.
    They were so in tune with each other that when Ranma caressed down Akane’s hips and rested it at her thigh, there was no need to give permission.  Akane arched her back and spread her legs slightly.  Without comment, Ranma’s hand floated over Akane’s thigh and came to rest at the hairs of her womanhood.  Not only could Akane feel Ranma’s burgeoning excitement as she slowly tickled the hairs of Akane’s soft bush, but she knew that Ranma could feel what she felt.
    Ranma opened her eyes for one brief moment then kissed Akane again.  The gentleness and firmness of the kiss was matched by the gentleness and firmness of her two fingers as they pressed slowly into the center of Akane’s being.
    Ranma’s fingers lingered for a time as the women savored feeling what the other was feeling and knew that the other was feeling the same.
    As her fingers deeply caressed Akane’s dewy flower, the self-referential experiences folded in on themselves.  Akane knew what Ranma could feel what she felt and knew that Ranma knew that she knew.   Akane was nearly dizzy with the experiences extending out like the repeating images of parallel mirrors.
    As her mind floated out the infinity of it all, the dream faded and she realized that she was in her own bed.  The last vestiges of the dream dissolved and she opened her eyes.

Jimmye Winburn excels at performing, composition, fiction writing, playwrighting, sculpture, cartooning, and painting, but she also has a near pathological inability to actually sell anything she produces, which means she will always remain obscure and forgotten by all but a handful of friends.

                                                            Malice in AnimeLand
                                                            by Katherine J. Parker


“Hah! Hah! Hah! No! Not there! Senpai! I’m going to—Ahhhaaa!”

Malice giggled, peeking into her brother’s room through the door he left slightly ajar. She couldn’t see him, but she could see his TV. He always watched the funniest cartoons.

“Mary Alice!” the pig-tailed teenager spun at the familiar scolding tone of Anna May. “What are you doing?”

“Shh!” Malice shoved her petite hand over Anna’s mouth, trying not to giggle as she bounced on the balls of her feet. “Oni-san is-”

“Malice!” the sliver of golden light behind Mary Alice widened at the same pace as her grin.

“Oops.” She spun, her pleated skirt turning into a razor sharp disc above her stocking-covered thighs, “Hello Oni-san.”

---

“Malice is such a pain.” Tommy threw himself back on his bed.

“I wish you’d stop calling her that.” Anna sighed, sitting with her back to his desk. If she tipped the chair far enough back, her curly red hair fell in rivulets onto the surface of Tommy’s desk and he could almost see her panties. “And stop watching so much hentai.”

“I like hentai.” Tommy said, rolling onto his side to stare at Anna. He knew he shouldn’t be trying to see up her skirt, being her brother and all, but he tried anyway.

Sometimes Tommy wondered how he and his twin could share the same DNA, let alone the same womb at the same time. Anna May was soft, a little round, and large breasted with big blue eyes. The last was a trait she shared with Mary Alice. Tommy, on the other hand, was tall and lean and dark-haired, and, worst of all, he had boring black eyes that never seemed to open all the way. Anna May looked like Mom, but Tommy looked like Dad. Nobody knew who Mary Alice looked like. She had never really fit in, but sort of completed their odd little trio.


---

Anna didn’t understand her brother- or her sister, for that matter, but none of that mattered. All that mattered was that they had each other. She spun slowly in Tommy’s desk chair, making sure that when she stopped, he couldn’t see anything but skirt and leg. Tommy didn’t mean to be a perv, he was just a 19-year old boy with a big dick in a house full of girls.

“Maybe if you stopped watching it all the time, Mal—Mary Alice wouldn’t spy on you so much.” She leaned over and picked up a pair of dirty underwear, throwing them at Tommy’s face. “And your underwear wouldn’t be cement.”

Tommy blushed and Anna felt a little better.

---

Malice dug at the bottom of her closet, her pert little butt sticking up in the air. She knew it was in here. She just knew it was.

Half a dozen colorful temari balls rolled across the bamboo floor and she wiggled.

“Where is it?” She threw an unidentifiable plush chibi over her shoulder, seven or eight more following quickly behind it before an “AHA!” emerged from beneath the hems of four or five… dozen… costumes.

As she wiggled her way backwards, she drug a shoebox out of the closet. Flipping the dusty lid open, she giggled.

“Here it is!” She extracted a little black bottle with a pink cupcake on the label and used her thump to pop the plastic cork. She pressed the mouth of the bottle to her lips and threw her head back.

---

Gross.

Tommy huffed and threw his underwear back on the floor. They stunk.

“What else am I supposed to beat off t-” he started to protest to Anna’s criticisms, but was stopped when his TV turned on all.

“You’re late! You’re late!” the childish voice escaped from the speakers, a flicker of color crossing the screen. “You’re late for a very important date!”

“Turn that off.” Anna said, stopping the slow spinning of the office chair she sat in.

“I don’t have the remote.” Tommy said, sitting up. Surely enough, the remote sat by Anna on the desk. She frowned and reached for it, chubby fingers wrapping around the black plastic rectangle.

“Don’t you dare.” Malice said as she appeared on the screen with a flourish. Her black and green sailor outfit was now a cascade of color, and her blonde pigtails were a shimmery gold that trailed stardust.

Anna stopped and Tommy leaned forward.

“What?”

“Mary Alice!”

Malice giggled, spinning to fill the screen with golden stardust. When it cleared, a forest of dancing flowers surrounded her, swaying and singing. She leaned in close to the screen, just her head, neck and bouncing breasts visible, the bows at the top of each of her pigtails turning into wiggling caterpillars.

“Your late.” She said again.

“What are you talking about?” Tommy asked, sitting on the edge of his bed, right in front of the TV.

“Not you, silly. Anna May.”

“What about her?” Tommy said as Anna stared, mouth agape.

“Anna May… be pregnant!” Malice giggled again, dipping and dancing among the flowers. She leaped high into the sky, until the flowers grew small, and then did a flip, before falling… falling… falling back to ground, smashing a million tiny, singing flowers.

Their screams shattered Anna and Tommy’s ears.

---

Anna continued to stare, aghast. How did she even know?

“I know everything when I’m in here. Everything that matters, anyway.” Malice answered her unspoken question, rolling in the bloodied flowers, making sure to catch any she missed in her first go.

The screen filled with hearts and Malice disappeared, the TV turning off.

Anna turned on Tommy. “What is going on!? Are you playing some kind of-“

“Oni-san isn’t doing anything, except getting a hard-on.”

Tommy’s computer screen flickered on, the tower off. The monitor was filled with perky breasts in red and white fabric.

“Ooops, I’m up here.” Malice giggled and backed away, bending down. A golden crown set atop her sparkling pigtails.

“I do not have a hard-on.” Tommy said, his head snapping to the monitor.

“That’s a lie.” Malice giggled. “I can see it from here.”

---

“You should touch it and see.” Malice laughed, watching Anna May’s face contort with disgust and horror. She leaned in. Everything looked funny from in here. A little grainy. A little hazy. A little… two-dimensional. Like Tommy’s really old robot shows.

“That’s what they do in Oni-san’s movies.” She leaned back, tumbling, tumbling in space, landing on a trampoline held in place by two fat little big-faced chibis. She bounced high.

“Ohhh—Onniiii-sannnn.” She mimicked her brother’s dirty shows. “It’s soooo big.” She giggled again, her voice tinkling like bells and landed hard on the trampoline, floating in the air again, weightless.

Her skirt flipped up, velvet panties glimpsed momentarily before she was falling, feet first, toward the trampoline.

“Ohhh—Oniii-sannnnn! It’s so ha-”

---

“Enough!” Anna snapped as she reached up and turned the monitor computer monitor off.

“Hey!” Tommy yelped, “What if she’s tuck in there now?”

“So what?” Anna crossed her arms self-consciously. “We’re probably better off.”

Tommy stood up and grabbed his sister by the shoulders, shaking her a little. “Don’t say that! She’s our sister.”

Ana frowned and lowered her head to Tommy’s lean chest. She’d always admired his firm body, even though she’d never admit it aloud.

“Onii-san.” She whispered.

---

Malice giggled in the depths of the abyss, spinning, twirling, tumbling. She couldn’t see them, but she could hear them- feel them, even. When they pressed together, she felt the heat of their forbidden attraction. When they pulled apart she breathed deeply of their mingled scents- musky boy sweat and strawberry shampoo.

She liked strawberries.

And cream.

She smiled.

---

Anna May lay beside Tommy in his ruffled bedsheets, her head on his firm shoulder and his hand on her soft hip.

“Do you think we should turn it back on?” she asked, her back to the sleeping monitor.

He licked his lips, his eyes glued to the TV. While she waited for his answer, Anna waited too.

“Maybe…” he said. “Maybe we’ll just watch this one episode first.”

Anna May smiled, just a little.

“Ahhhhh! Senpaiiiii!”

Katherine J. Parker is a speculative fiction writer and victim of the eternal pursuit of knowledge. She can’t walk and chew gum at the same time, but she’s never working on less than 5 (or a dozen) projects at a time. You can find out more about her eclectic nature at http://katjparker.com.

 

                               Cuck-O-Chan 

                                     by Leigham Shardlow

Cuck-O-Chan, an interdimensional school girl trapped in our dimension and forced into battle to protect the Hellgate, her only way home, from demons and their human slaves. Cuck-O-Chan can only access her spirit powers when she has more than one boyfriend or girlfriend at one time. Heartbreak fuels her ultimate spirit and it will be the world’s salvation.

Last time on Cuck-O-Chan, Kunikikinut had revealed the location of the Hellgate to her best friend Mami but Mami has been possessed by Kunikikinut's evil demon brother, who will stop at nothing to destroy the archfiend gate and it’s protector, Kunikikinut.

A soft wind blew through the locker room, the chill ran through me but Mami was uneffected.

“Heh heh heh, foolish little girl” said Mami and another voice behind hers, no it couldn't be, he was trapped in hell father had made sure of it.

“Brother!” I yelled recognizing his cold stare behind Mami’s soft blue eyes.

“HA! Took you long enough Cuck-Chan. Now I will control the gate and this world and all others will be mine, you should never trust your friends.“

“Let go of her mind, you fiend!” I summoned all my will and threw a spiritual meat ball from my hands, his spirit form wasn’t as strong as his demonic self but I also was weak. I needed more boyfriends and girlfriends to achieve full power but moving to this new school had meant I had only time to make two.

Mami deflected the meat ball with her hand back at me. Blinding pain exploded into my chest, luckily the meatball was my weakest attack, anything else would have ruined my dress.

“Pathetic, run sister, run far away before I destroy you”

Mami gestured to the ceiling and it cracked before exploding outwards allowing the sun to shine in. She then floated out of the hole and out of sight,

There was no time to lose, I raced out into the corridor and out to find Toki and Shaun. I must break their hearts, the world was worth more than them, worth more than my feelings towards them.

Toki would be out in the sports field playing soccer and Shaun would be watching the girls

wrestling team. Shaun was such a pervert so it was easy to make him fall in love with me but Toko was different. I needed to buy gifts and use demon spells on her just to keep her interested.

I left down the corridor towards the Gym, Shaun would fight for me ,he would give me the most sadness.

…………...

Shaun spotted me as soon as I walked into the gym and blushed bright red, he didn’t know I knew how much he liked to watch the girls fight each other. I did plan on getting into a fight if ever he began to lose interest but we had only been in a relationship for a week.

The gym was full of girls in tight spandex doing stretches, I could see Shaun liked this part the most because he didn’t see me until I walked right up to him.

“Kiki! What are you doing here?”  he was suprised and spoke in his best broken Japanese.

Shaun was short, had long dark hair, and was stingy with gifts (I remember him only bring four bottles of beer on our first date in his car, which he drank three of and my bottle of Southern Comfort), but most of all he was Gajin, which meant a lot of the other students didn’t even talk to him. He was a perfect power tap, I should have been better to him, let him have some of my panties but well he was just too thin and greasy, I didn’t want him to touch me or my clothes.

“Shaun! I don’t care that you’re watching other girls! I love someone else, someone tougher and stronger than an English!”

All the wrestlers had stopped warming up and stared at us waiting for Shaun to do something. He didn’t he just stood there confused. Damn he must not  have understood what I had said. Stupid Gaijins, why did they move over here anyway.

“I ,love, Toki, not, you. Toki strong!” I shouted in my best English.

His face twisted into rage and he stormed out of the gym and I followed, not too too fast just enough so he knew I was following.

His anger and sadness flowed into me, enriching my spirit and filling me with light. It still wasn’t enough but hopefully Toko would feel betrayed as well. It was my only hope to stop my step brother from controlling the gate. I only hoped I wouldn’t be too late.

Shaun began sprinting and exited the building out onto the field right towards Toko. He tackled him to the ground and Shaun slowly got to his feet, panting heavily. Too many terrible fried breakfast’s caused him to be really unfit.

“Fuck, you. Kiki is my girlfriend.“ said Shaun his voice cracking with rage.

Toki looked up and Shaun and then at me, her face read like shock and all at once I felt the most intense rush of emotional blankness. Nothing is more intense than nothing. It stands out in the world full of feelings. Toki felt nothing, she had switched her mind off from everything.

“NO! Toki I’m so sorry!” I screamed to no avail, Toki was never in love with me, she was cold and distant. My powers would begin to fade quickly.

Then there was huge pounding noise like a hammer crashing against the sky, the Hellgate was under attack, I had no time left.

Summoning all of Shaun's pain I transformed into my emotion chi form, the spiky wings

unfolding from the ether and attaching to my back, the halo appeared in a flash and I flew off away from the school and towards MT SAUSAGE.

My powers were linked to its fleshy rocks, for my magic was that of meat and of the mountain. I wish I could become the butcher form but Shaun just wasn’t enough, he was used to rejection and pain each time he felt it less and I hoped I could have made him care more. It didn't matter I would have to make do.

………………….

By the time I arrived at MT SAUSAGE and into the great meat cave at the top the Hell gate had begun to bleed purple Satan fire. Mami’s possessed body was beating the great doors with such force that I hadn’t seen in this world before. My Step brother was going to turn her bones into sand if he carried on. That level of possession would burn out her soul and mind. I had to stop him.

Channeling magic through my arms I shot the lasagna beams from my fingertips, the meaty sauce smacking her off balance. For a brief glimmer I felt him loose his grip on Mami, I had to keep going.

Shaun’s sadness was drying up fast I had to conserve it, I gave myself bacon fists and began pounding Mami’s face, trying to disorientate my step brother.  Shaun must be masturbating, his depression was leaving so much quickly than it should be. My bacon fists began to flicker and my halo disappeared.

“NO!” I shouted giving Mami the hardest punch I could with what was left of Shaun's Cucked spirit. Mami barely flinched. Brother had regained control and threw me off her with a back handed slap and cruel smile that didn’t belongI smashed into the cave wall with such force that it loosened stalactites from the roof which came crashing down, burying me alive.

I couldn’t breathe the rocks began to crush me and I felt my wings disappear as the last of Shaun’s sadness faded into a dry tissue. As I blacked out to the sound of my Step Brothers Voice Laughing from Mami’s mouth I remember knowing all hope had faded.

..................…

All was black. I was floating above my body  by an inch. As I pushed  myself away from my body up through the rock I realised I was dead. There was something keeping my spirit tied to this plane of existence though. Then I saw the bright glow of love and the dull ache of hate behind me, emanating from Mami.

The hate was from my Step Brother, hiding in her brain, but the love was from Mami.

Mami had loved me all this time, the power of her love was keeping my soul from leaving.

No, not Mami. I couldn’t do that to her, break her heart to save her body and the world. Please not that, anything but that.

She was at the gate smashing her arms into it, each pound a new crack in the door and in her bones. Her loving light dimmed slightly with each hit, she was dying. I had no choice, I had to CUCK Mami.

“MAMI!! “ I shouted and my Step Brother turned finally seeing my ethereal form.

“MAMI, I love you! I always have” The light shone brighter than a thousand suns and I could feel my soul being slowly sucked back into my body. It wasn’t enough though I had to go all the way.

“MAMI, I’m sorry I’m in a sexual relationship with Toki and Shaun!”

The bright light turned black almost instantly and I absorbed it feeling more powerful than ever before. Then the pile of boulders exploded and my body slammed into my spirit. I was unto a god more powerful than the butcher form and more importantly, more powerful than my Step Brother.

……..

Power surrounded me and shimmered the air in front of me,

My Step Brother roared and threw a million ghost demon knives through the air, they dissolved through the radiating shield of Cuck that surround me. I smiled, forgetting Mami’s pain for a moment.

“BE GONE” I spoke and waved my arms in a spell of banishment, my Step Brother screamed and his presence instantly disappeared back into the hell dimension. Mami collapsed on the floor in a soft heap.

Another complicated series of movements and streams of rich fat began to flow into the Hell Gate beginning to repair itself, such was the power of Mami’s heartache.

I poured her own pain back into her, allowing her body to heal almost instantly and after a minute her eyes opened.

“Mami” I whispered, “I’m so sorry” .

She got up and walked out of the cave without saying a word, I let her go what could I do I was what caused her agony she needed space I knew that.

Her footsteps stopped at the mouth of the cave, I could tell she was looking down at the city

from the height of Mt Sausage. Then there was silence for a long time, my eyes would not stop crying.

I stopped floating suddenly collapsing under my own weight, Mami’s sadness has abruptly left me.

The worst thing ever had crossed my mind and I raced out of the cave but I was too late, far too late. Mami’s smashed corpse littered the rocks below the cave, fresh blood caking every surface.

I had killed her to save the world and it wasn’t worth it.

Next time on Cuck-O-Chan;

Space Aliens can love too!

Kunikikinut must romance an Alien, a Mole creature and an emotionless serial killer who she has already cucked once all to save a cat from a tree.

Leigham has never even seen Anime or Hentai, better yet Leigham doesn't know what Hentai is. "What's Hentai?" He is often heard asking around the Manga Offices but they just ignore him.