SL Huang - Up and Coming - Stories by the 2016 Campbell-Eligible Authors

Originally published by Diabolical Plots, June 2015.

I woke when the boy came through the window.

He looked about eight, all dark eyes in a brown face. “Don’t touch the floor.”

He startled. “Why not?”

“The monster under my bed will get you.”

He relaxed. “I’m too old to believe in monsters. You need a better lock for your window. And bars. Everybody in the neighborhood has bars.”

I tried to imagine bars on the window. Would it be more a prison?

“It’s not safe for you here. You need to go home.”

He shrugged, settling cross-legged on the dresser below the window. “My parents are fighting. I’ll go home in a few hours.”

It was dark outside. It was always dark when I woke. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Carlos. I’m the youngest. What’s yours?”

“I’m Jane. I’m the youngest, too.” Or I had been.

Carlos swung his legs. “You don’t talk like you’re from Boston.”

“I’m not, originally.” Was Boston even in England? Where had my curse taken me?

“What’s on your leg?” He hopped to the floor, and I cried out. Furst rumbled from under my bed, and Carlos jumped back onto the dresser. “What was that?”

“I told you.” I swallowed hard. “You need to go, now, Carlos. This isn’t a safe place for you.”

He opened his mouth, and one green claw came out from under the bed. It could have encircled a cantaloupe, or a man’s head.

“Go,” I repeated, and he went, out into the night.

I slept.

I woke when the man entered the window. Moonlight glinted against a knife in his hand. He slipped to the floor and Furst slid out from under the bed, scales glinting green. Furst unhinged his jaw, grasped the intruder with his claws, and swallowed him whole. The knife clanged against the floor, but the man never had a chance to scream.

I slept.

I woke when the boy came through the window. It was Carlos, grown older.

“I thought perhaps I dreamed it all, but you’re still here. I don’t think you’re any older. Is the monster still here, too?”

There was a tiny rumble from Furst under the bed, and I smiled reluctantly. “You shouldn’t have come back.” I hesitated, fighting curiosity. “How long has it been?”

“Four years.” He leaned forward, carefully. “There was something around your leg. I tried not to remember that, but I did.”

I shrugged. “There’s a monster under my bed, and you’re worried about my legs?”

He looked at me with the straight look I remembered, although his face had grown to fit the eyes. “It looked like a chain.”

I sighed. “It is a chain, Carlos. It’s mostly for show; I’m only awake when someone enters the room, and Furst won’t let me leave the bed.”

His brow wrinkled. “Furst?”

“It means Prince. My guardian, my jailor…my monster.”

He nodded as though that made sense.

“I’ll be back,” he said, turning to go.

“You sho—” I began, but he was gone.

I slept.

He was older again. He tossed me a small cloth bag.

“They’re lock picks. I’m going to teach you how to use them.”

I blinked. “Why?”

He shook his head. “Chica, it’s easier to get out if you’re not chained.”

I looked at the bag, at him. “How long?”

“Another four years. I had to learn how, so I could teach you.”

“Will you be hanged, if you’re caught with these?”

Carlos shook his head. “We’re not much on hanging people.”

He demonstrated the picks and I struggled to mimic him. The lock resisted my best efforts, but he only nodded. “I’ll be back,” he said again.

I slept.

The next few times he brought me locks to practice with. When I conquered the easiest, he replaced it with a harder one, and one harder still. I noted that his clothing changed—light clothing to heavy, then to light again. A mustache had grown in on his upper lip, then a small beard. He was man now, not boy. Furst would kill him without hesitation.

The night that I opened my manacle he carried a leather bag. I stared at my free ankle. “Now what?”

“Will Furst hurt you, if you touch the floor?”

“No, he’ll just carry me back to the bed.”

“Good.” He opened the bag, pulled out a hammer. “Catch.”

I caught it, then a box of nails. Last he sent the edge of a rope ladder. “You’ll need to nail this into the bed frame to anchor it.”

He demonstrated and I mimicked him, nail after nail. When I pushed against it, it held my weight.

Carlos waited as I pulled myself up onto it. A step, two—I slipped, and my foot brushed the floor.

Furst erupted, tail lashing, and gathered me up in his great claws. I smelled carrion on his breath as he set me gently onto my bed. My prison.

I was angry, suddenly, and barely waited for Furst to settle before starting again. One step, two, three, four. I slipped but held on grimly, regaining the rung with my bare foot. Five, six, seven…then Carlos caught my hand. I scrambled up beside him onto the dresser, then up, out, through the open window.

The night was cold but brilliantly lit with balls of fire perched on metal trees. Carlos closed the window behind us and led me to a strange low carriage without horses.

“Where are we going?” Should I have asked before? Did I even care?

“To my mother’s apartment. Mom always told me a woman didn’t need a prince to rescue her. She needed a friend, to help her rescue herself.” He grinned. “You already had a Prince, and he didn’t look like a keeper to me.”

No kiss, no guarantee that there would ever be one. No castle, no piles of gold. I sighed happily as he helped me into the carriage.

Originally published by Fireside Fiction, February 2016

To: LMAmerchandising From: LMAmarketing

Hey folks, I know it’s a tight squeeze for the manufacturing deadline for the Little Miss Apocalypse playset, but we got new market research results on the pony names.

Please make the following updates on the packaging: Pestilence is now Sniffles, Famine is now Om-nom, War is now Punchy, and Death is now Bonesy. We’ll be updating the voiceovers for the show accordingly when we introduce the characters in the fall TV season.

We’ll want Little Miss Apocalypse next to Bonesy on the front packaging, since he rated highest in the ages 5-8 demographic.

I know it’s a tight deadline, but we really need to make the numbers for the holiday season! The CEO is counting on this

–Anna

To: LMAteam-all

From: CorporateResponsibility

Hello LMA team,

As part of the company-wide “Yes I Can Cuz I’m A Girl” social awareness and empowerment campaign, we need the playset to let kids actually do something functional.

We’re pulling out the chemistry kits and the My First Robot Repair toys from the edutainment line as top examples, and we’d like to tie in Little Miss Apocalypse to give the campaign a more fun vibe.

–Mac

To: LMAteam-all, CorporateResponsibility

From: LMAproductdesign

We could add accessories to the ponies. Sniffles could come with tissues laced with fake Ebola, Punchy could come with some faux vials of steroids or testosterone, and Bonesy could come with a small play-chemical kit. Little Miss Apocalypse is empowered to change the world with these tools. (Not sure what we’d do for Om-nom though.)