“Hello, Officer. You have the law in your palm. Why is that child your bride?”
Jerrika Blue stared at the words written in her little My Little Pony 'n Friends diary. She scratched her yellow blonde hair in her state of perplexion. The passage conveyed the correct message and even contained the intended number of syllables within the first line, which was eighteen. So what about it was so wrong? Why wasn't she pleased with it? This was always her least favorite part of the creative process. The inspiration was always soaring through her bones, but she could never figure out the perfect words to begin her stories.
Should she begin with a quote?
It was now the middle of October, which meant that the Texas Book Festival was only a few weeks away. Mrs. Florence had held a writing contest in class one day, picking three winners to go on to the Young Author's Conference which took place during the festival. Each student was to write an essay; two pages minimum, five pages maximum. The prompt was “If you were an inventor, what life-changing creation would you bring to the world?”. Jerrika won second place with her wishing well that actually granted wishes. Mickey Broderick won first place with his flying car, which admittedly annoyed the girl a little bit. What was so imaginative about flying cars? Only a billion other people in the world have already written essays about them! But all griping aside, she was still excited to be one of the few students scheduled to appear in Austin on the fourth of November. And she had the full intention of writing something so moving and profound that it made Mrs. Florence regret giving first place to that hack, Mickey.
Maybe she should start with a brief summary instead?
Perhaps some witty zinger that will catch her audience's attention?
Why am I in fuckin' Texas?
No, this wasn't one of those kinds of stories.
What do you mean “it was now the middle of October”? It's December 3rd!
Jerrika wanted to write something that would not only shock people, but enlighten them. Everyone knew that the only way to get noticed in the world was to do something out of left field; leave a bitter taste in people's mouths. In a world full of copycats, Jerrika hoped to be the one eight year-old that knocked the breath out of her readers. Of course, she didn't want this for the fame. She'd still be perfectly happy if her story was credited as “Anonymous” and she still managed to get a following of people who cared enough to listen.
In the end, that's truly all she wanted.
For people to listen and care about her words.
She rubbed the back of her neck, fingertips caressing the large bruise her father had left there the night before, and got back to writing.
What? Who is this girl?
Loneliness was a terrible burden for such a little girl to have, but it wasn't all that bad. The big upside to having no friends was that your life was considered an anomaly to others. Nobody knew quite what to make of you. On hand, that meant nobody could use information against you in the midst of a disagreement. On the other hand, however, that almost guaranteed that you'd have the disdain of everyone around you.
Human nature often dictates how we perceive people that are different from ourselves. Mankind, in general, has always held a xenophobic view of anything and anyone that couldn't be easily read or manipulated. Non-conformity was scary, and scary was bad. As a result of this unspoken truth, human nature has always revolved around making others feel bad about their life decisions and varying opinions on particular topics. Whether this is a trait all human beings are born with or if it's a learned behavior is a debate many have discussed since the birth of Psychology. Regardless of which answer was correct, it was no secret that children were especially guilty of doing this.
Jerrika Blue was the textbook definition of a loner and, as such, her classmates desperately wanted a reason—any reason—to make her feel ashamed of her introverted nature. The only problem was that absolutely nothing seemed to rattle the quiet blonde. One boy tried making fun of her handwriting, but immediately stopped when he realized it was more legible than his own. Another boy teased her over her name because “Ha ha, your eyes are blue!”, which earned him no reaction whatsoever. A girl once started a rumor about Jerrika wetting herself during gym class, but the blonde just brushed it off like it was nothing. The kids suspected that she was a robot that was incapable of feeling any kind of emotion. Alas, life wasn't that simple to explain. Nor was life innocent and silly as seen through the eyes of a child.
For Jerrika Blue could not be fazed by their bullying.
Because she already lived with somebody who was a far worse human being than any of her classmates.
Why the hell am I seein' this?
Kevin Blue was a well-respected man on the streets of Leander, Texas. He fought in the Vietnam War for five years. Ever the dedicated soldier, he was well on his way to being promoted to Lieutenant Kevin Blue, but enemy artillery fire got one of his legs. He recovered, but not without an honorable discharge. He returned home, joined the police force, found himself a little wife, and sired a beautiful daughter.
Kevin gradually worked his way to becoming Sheriff, even providing a powerful voice to the Leander City Council a time or ten. Along with maintaining a safe environment for the community, he was also rather outspoken regarding the quality of children's education and their safety from evildoers. Kevin Blue was a hero of the people, but to his own daughter, he was the biggest evildoer of them all.
The cop is a crook? You doan fuckin' say.
When Jerrika was four years-old, she got herself out of bed one night to ask her mommy to pour her a glass of milk. She wasn't allowed to get her own milk because she never failed to make a huge mess in the kitchen. After all, if there was one thing children were especially good at, it was spilling any and every kind of liquid substance. But no milk was spilled that night.
Lynn Blue's blood, to be exact.
Shit. Tough break, kid. At least you knew your mom.
Over Lynn's body stood Kevin, crying into his blood stained hands. “Daddy?” Jerrika squeaked in her young Texas drawl. Her father's hands dropped to his sides and he turned to face his daughter with bloody hand-prints on his face. At this point of her memory, things begin to fade when her sapphire eyes met with his manic catlike yellow eyes.
“Daddy got 'em,” he wheezed through his panic, “Daddy got the sons 'ah bitches that hurt her. She didn't die in vain, sweet pea.” Jerrika couldn't remember what immediately followed that interaction; she just knew that she didn't cry. Death was such a foreign concept to the small child. The idea that people can just go to sleep and never wake up seemed strange. How do people do that? Wouldn't they get bored of their dreams eventually?
Yerp; they're the same people that were constantly bored when they were awake, too.
The next memory Jerrika remembered was three days after the funeral. Neighbors flooded the Blue household to bring Kevin and Jerrika gifts. “It must be hard not havin' a mama around, sweetie,” was a line Jerrika heard at least five times that day. “She'll be back; she's just sleepin' is all!” was what the little girl reminded each and every one of the mourning guests.
Eventually the neighbors went home, which left Little Jerrika alone with Kevin.
She was writing a series of short poems on a piece of pink construction paper. She always loved writing, even at such a young age. Her handwriting was terrible due to the poor fine motor control in her hands, but things like that didn't matter back then. Lynn always said Jerrika was a prodigy, destined to become the next Virginia Woolf or Sylvia Plath. Her mommy was the prettiest, nicest woman she'd ever met—a living angel on Earth. The only mistake Lynn ever made was marrying the devil himself.
“Hey honey,” he said, grabbing her sides like he usually did, “what're you writin' there?” She turned to look at him, smiling wide. “A poem!” she exclaimed proudly. He chuckled, giving her a little tickle. “A poem, you say! Wanna read it to your dear ol' daddy?”
She nods excitedly. “Kay!” she shouts as she holds up her diary to read. The small child cleared her throat before reciting her masterpiece to her father. “Eyes now open,” she reads loudly and slowly, “watch me grow my legs, runnin' like flyin'. I'm a cloud floatin' higher!”
More artistic than Sympathy for the Goddamn Devil. But I'd stay in school if I were you, kiddo.
“Did you like it, Daddy?”
Kevin doesn't make a sound, instead focused on trailing his fingertips along his daughter's waist line.
Buddy, what're you—
Kevin smiles against her ear.
“Yes sweet pea, Daddy liked it very much.”
He runs his fingers back up to her upper chest.
“Wanna know how much Daddy liked it, darlin'?”
Oh hell no. We ain't doin' this, guy. Nononono—
Just thinking about his awful question sends Jerrika into a shivering rage even to this day. The events following that question only fueled the monster within. After Kevin was finished, he attempted to justify his actions to the traumatized child. “Look baby, your mama did things like this for me all the time. You're the new lady of the household, so you have to take over some of the things she used to do.”
Alright you undead sonuvabitch, get your ass out here!
It wasn't an everyday thing, at first. Once or twice a week, Kevin would come home from a rough day at work and take his pent-up frustrations on the young blonde. She never liked the games he wanted to play and they always made her hurt. But what else was she to do? She wanted to make her daddy proud—to make her mommy proud. So she never complained when he rubbed his deeply calloused hands all over her kitty cat pajamas.
You think this trick of yours is gonna get me into your fictional Wonderland? Fuckin' think again, asshole!
As the next couple of months came and went, Jerrika learned to truly hate the sound of her father's squad car pulling into the driveway. Before her mommy died, the only things that ever scared Little Jerrika Blue was really large spiders and being alone in the dark. But spiders were harmless so long as you weren't mean to them, and the dark wasn't bad if you just closed your eyes and tried to go to sleep. But when Kevin Blue came home from work, Jerrika felt something much worse than initial fear. For a while, just hearing his car door slam sent her into a violent crying fit that sometimes ended up with her vomiting whatever meal she ate last.
I ain't gonna let you bastards drive me to the funny farm with your cryptic bullshit! You hear me?!
On Jerrika Blue's very first day of school, she had deeply concerned her teacher, Ms. Phillips. Not only did the girl have no interest in interacting with the other students, she also spent way too much time scribbling on a piece of paper. When the young teacher finally managed to get the paper away from the child, her jaw dropped at the words she read:
“Raise your hand for me, sir.
Hold mine with a crooked smile.
I will see more of you in hell.”
Hey, Zombie Douche, I'm tawlkin' to you!
Ms. Phillips reported this incident to the principal, who immediately called Kevin to ask about Jerrika's well-being at home. Of course, he was at work at the time of the phone call, so he had to hear about the entire fiasco over a rather long voice-mail on his land-line. Once he was able to communicate with the school, he assured them that everything was okay. Jerrika was just “acting out” as a means of coping with her mother's grisly murder. The school bought it, but the Sheriff of Leander wasn't very happy with his daughter's behavior. From that point onward, his abuse grew ever more violent.
Tawlk to me, dammit! Hello?!
At age six, Jerrika Blue had her first sexually transmitted disease. It wasn't one of the really bad ones like gonorrhea or HIV. It had some long name that Jerrika could never remember—tricho...something. Kevin nearly had a heart attack the day she was diagnosed. What would the neighbors say about his young daughter having this kind of infection? Did he have the infection, too? Luckily, the pretty female doctor assured him that the infection could've come from something as simple as his daughter either not rinsing properly in the bathtub or not wiping thoroughly enough after using the restroom. Sheriff Blue's reputation was spared, though he still sought medical treatment in secret just to be safe.
By age seven, Jerrika began to associate evil with everybody that even remotely reminded her of her father. Whether it was one little thing or something major, the blonde found herself feeling extremely suspicious of certain types of people. Kevin was a police officer, so that meant all police officers were scum. He was also a veteran, so all other military personnel—current and old—were never to be trusted. Most importantly, her father was a man. So to Jerrika, there was simply no such thing as a non-dangerous man.
After four years of this unholy union between father and daughter, Jerrika learned to stop fearing the beast. She rationalized that, after this long of the same old same old, there was no reason to be afraid. She already knew what was coming. Did she like it? No, of course not. But cowering in fear over the inevitable was a waste of time. And thus by her eighth birthday, she had grown from a scared little girl to a stone-hearted, angry miniature woman.
Childhood gone too soon.
But she was going to avenge it all.
This tell-all will bring justice to those out there who are just like Kevin Blue. Even if Kevin himself wasn't punished, at least more children living in Texas would begin to feel comfortable with opening up about their trials and tribulations. Alas, the only problem with autobiographical stories was that they always cut way too deep. Jerrika slowly closed her diary for a few minutes of recuperation before continuing.
She took a deep breath as the bright smiles of Galaxy and Fizzy watched her in silence.
Little girl, can you hear me?
Jerrika Blue closed her eyes.
She hummed the tune to My Little Pony 'n Friends to herself.
Any clue why I'm almost two-thousand miles away from home?
The blonde worked to lose herself in her thoughts.
C'mon, you can tawlk to me. I ain't some kinda creepy pervert. I just wanna return to where I'm s'pose to be.
Suddenly, her eyes opened.
Yo? You hear me, kid?
She did hear something; someone.
But it wasn't the invisible trespasser.
The little girl fell over onto the floor when a figure suddenly materialized on her table. This being knew well to choose his form carefully with this child. He was fully aware of her troubled past and present and wished not to frighten her. So the sight bestowed upon Miss Jerrika Blue was one that could never frighten her or lead her astray.
Tears immediately burst from the eight year-old's eyes.
Lynn Blue smiled earnestly at the child.
A spitting image of her daughter, she was as beautiful as she was the day before she died.
Oh sure, the eight year-old gets her normal lookin' mom. I get a goddamn dead guy. Fuck you too, douchebag.
“Don't be afraid, honey. Everythin' is goin' to be okay.” There were so many things Little Jerrika wanted to say to her mommy, but no words would come out. How could they? This angel was taken from her four years ago and now she's just showed up out of nowhere. The young blonde wasted all the time she had to prepare for this moment. Too much of her time was spent being hurt, scared, and angry. She was left speechless.
All Jerrika could do was cry.
She expected Mommy to be upset with her.
But Lynn just smiled, unfazed by her daughter's silence.
“Baby, it's okay. You don't have to say anythin'. I understand.” She let out her famous Lynn Blue giggle that she always did when she was happy. Lynn never needed to be entertained or amused; she laughed because life was too short to cry. The moment she heard the laugh, Jerrika knew that her eyes weren't deceiving her. This really was her mommy!
No, it ain't. It's some cocksucker that gets his kicks from harassin' the shit out of people like you and me.
“Listen baby,” Lynn said as she stepped down from the table, “there's a way out. Away from your daddy. You don't have to expose your life story to everyone at that conference.” She held her hand out to the little girl. Her blue eyes sparkled. “I know I've been gone for a long time, but I can give you somethin' that will protect you from any man that thinks he can lay a finger on you.”
Almost too eagerly, Jerrika grabbed her hand.
“You got to promise me one thing, baby. Once I give you this gift, you have to get out of Leander—get out of Texas. There's a place you can go and still have the hope of a bright future. They call it Casa do Diaño.”
She giggled again.
“I know it's a funny name, darlin'. But you'll get used to it. I promise...but you gotta promise me you'll go.”
Doan do it, kid.
Without thinking her decision through, Jerrika instantly nodded her head in agreement.
Lynn was suddenly surrounded by a bright light, nearly blinding the small child in the darkly lit house. Red spikes began to come out of Lynn's pores, like toothpaste being squeezed out of its tube. Jerrika looked in horror as the spikes shot out of her mother and into her face. The child screamed in agony as her blood poured onto the floor beneath her.
Holy shit...ain't I glad I fuckin' said no, you undead bastard.
Despite all of this blood loss, Jerrika wasn't dying.
Lynn simply was draining all of the old, weak blood out of her daughter's body and replacing it with much stronger, rarer blood.
It was blood that would make Jerrika a force to be reckoned with.
Jerrika would no longer be any man's plaything.
What, you givin' her Type O? It ain't exactly rare, but our immune systems are built like fuckin' tanks. She'll need a lot of germs to make her sick!
Once it seemed like the little girl had no blood left in her frail body, her eyes popped open.
Only her eyes weren't the same as they always had been.
Her once dark sapphire eyes now glowed a neon blue, pupils as white as a blank page.
Before she knew it, yellow blonde hair started growing all over the girl's body.
Now growing in size, her clothes rip off her body.
But she wasn't indecent; her human body has transformed into something much more.
What the FUCK is goin' on here?!
Lynn Blue has now disappeared, being sure to leave in time for Kevin Blue to return home.
But Jerrika is not afraid.
Nor is she feeling dread.
All the she felt was anger.
She craved vengeance—revenge.
The former child turns slowly to take a good look at her father.
All of the color in Kevin's skin is missing.
He drops his keys onto the floor.
The creature once known as Jerrika Blue unleashes a bestial roar that pierces her father's eardrums. The Sheriff turns to leave, but he isn't even able to run once the monster wraps its mouth around his waist. Her teeth sink deeply into his flesh, his blood now flowing to join with her old child blood on the floor. His bones crunch loudly and, soon, his torso is ripped from his lower half.
Mary Magdalene's tits, what the fuck?!
The beast feeds on her victim. When put into perspective, this fate was the fairest Kevin Blue could've possibly hoped for. He had spent four years feeding his own primitive hunger. But man has always been guilty of being excessively greedy. The Sheriff of Leander had his proper fill, but what about Little Jerrika? She's been starving for far too long. Now it was her turn to feed. And she was going to ensure that she never went hungry again.
His bones crunch easily in her teeth.
His blood makes her taste buds tingle.
His flesh is salty, coated in sweat from the hard work he had done that day.
And as good as he tasted while there, his disappearance meant the breaking of Jerrika's chains.
But her work isn't done yet.
There were still children who needed help.
The smell leads the way.
This was a much better idea than writing a story.
The smell leads the way.
She breaks through the window without looking back.
The smell leads the way…
What the serious fuck did I just watch?
Somebody—anybody—wake me the hell up!