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(Battle Journal #4)

Path of Destruction

Scene #3: Mighty Hermaphroditee

Tales of the Old World

In small shack just outside the borders of Hades Hollow and actually built on the unburied half of Dracula’s castle, Shakespeare sat on a dusty cot facing Claira Carnafex. The two were discussing the ways of the Old World. It was a regular tradition for Shakespeare to tell yarns of the Old World. Claira had loved the stories that her wife, Marishka, used to teach when they both lived in Romania together, but since she hadn’t seen her estranged wife in years, she settled for the old thespian’s more practical tales of skyscrapers, electricity, and computers.

As Shakespeare spoke, Claira was connecting her Trigger-whip to a large battery, which he rigged to sap energy from the sun. It gave Claira’s Trigger-whip the power to send a bolt of electricity through her stretchy whip line. The elder man pushed a tray of sweet Badger-Bread toward Claira, specifically pointing out the slices dyed red with blood.

"Here, this is a rare delicacy these days. It’s a mix of sugar and blood, just the way you liked it as a kid. I got it from Sermon when I returned from Ravens Fall yesterday. She’s quite a talented baker."

Crunching on the sweet bread, Claira coed in salacious delight. For she hadn’t had the tasty treat for over a month now.

"Yummy, yum, yum! This bread is coated with honey and drenched in badger blood. It’s truly delicious. When I see Sermon, I’ll have to thank her personally. Remind me to bring some more geese and moose meat to Raven Falls the next time I visit her." Replied Claira, while sloppily wiping away crumbs of Badger-Bread from her face.

"I’ll do that," said Shakespeare intensely working on another one of his kooky gadgets.

"Well, you old fart," said Claira in her usual demeaning way. "Are you going to finish that story or what?"

"Oh, yes. Now where was I? – Oh, I was telling you about politics and how they altered the very earth. Listen here, ol’ chum; when the world was younger, the majority of the earth was clean --not infested with dirty radiation like it is today.

"Yeah, you told me about that before, but how could so many people live on the planet back then? You told me once that there was over a billion people in the world. I can’t believe that."

"Oh, but there was, my savage darling. There were far more than even that. Before the plague bombs hit, there were over six billion humans on the earth. Today, census reports account for only forty thousand worldwide. That’s a big change, right?"

"If you say so, you darn coot," replied Claira doubtfully, "but I think you’re just pulling my leg, Shakespeare.

"You do, huh? You doubt that just like you doubt that televisions and computers existed, too?" Asked Shakespeare pivoting his finger like an old man angry with his son.

"Yeah, I doubt it. I mean I know that some of what you say must be true. I had you make all my killer contraptions and hunting gadgets, so you seem to have some kind of mechanical knowledge of the Old World. But talking boxes that send moving pictures through invisible energy and glass and plastic machines that help people think? Ha, that’s got to be the stuff of fairy tales."

"Huh, you underestimate me, young woman. Let me show you the magic of the Old World," said Shakespeare, while guiding Claira to a corner of the shack.

There, he pulled the dusty covers off an old TV. Plugging the VCR underneath it into a solar battery pack, he then picked up an old videocassette tape and put it into the whirring machine. In an instant, Claira’s eyes widened as if she’d seen a ghost. The glass on the television lit up as it played an old exercise video. Watching tiny people jumping up and down in an exercise regiment, Claira could hardly believe her eyes.

"You see, I ‘was’ telling you the truth." Replied Shakespeare in an I-told-you-so voice.

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