[story] the tale of colonel blackheart and the voodoo zombie tigers
author: xahra99 (xahra99)
email: xahra99 [at] yahoo.com
"But what about Colonel Blackheart's voodoo zombie tigers?" Ena asked.
"Don't worry." Rick's chiseled jaw glinted in the lantern light. "They never manifest on Thursdays. The loa's not strong enough."
Ena sighed. Rick had been wrong before. She was also pretty certain that today was Wednesday. It was difficult to be sure. They'd been hiding in the tunnels underneath Colonel Blackheart's evil lair for months now, and she had forgotten the rhyme that recalled the number of days in every month. Did July have thirty days in it? Or was it thirty-one?
She checked the revolver holstered at her side, then her watch. "Then let's go." she said.
They were clambering through the cave system when Rick remarked, "Voodoo zombie tigers mean that Blackheart’s almost done it."
Ena rolled her eyes. “How so?" The light and the acoustics in the cave were so poor that Rick actually thought she was interested.
"Well," he said, "feline DNA is eighty-seven percent identical to humans. We've fought the Colonel’s voodoo zombie rats and zombie cockroaches. If he's managed to turn tigers, then humans can't be far behind. When we're fighting killer monkeys, then we're really in trouble."
Ena realized that her mouth was hanging open. Despite the lack of proper scientific terminology in Rick’s argument, it was easily the most intelligent sentence that her companion had uttered in the past four months. Nevertheless, Rick had a talent for jumping to conclusions and just because he'd added words such as 'chromosomes' to his vocabulary, it didn't necessarily mean that he was right.
She negotiated a particularly tricky rock. "If he manages to enslave humans, then no village will be safe."
"Oh, don't get all altruistic." Rick said, disgusted. "Need I remind you that he’s using the legendary lost diamond hoard of the Cloud Kingdoms to fund his dastardly research? The more money he fritters away on black cockerels and voodoo roots, the less money we get. And I think we deserve something for ridding the world of a psychopath."
"Saving the world shouldn't be about rewards." Ena said piously. She silently congratulated herself on her delivery. "And I wouldn't describe Blackheart as an evil genius. He has people to do that kind of work."
Rick snorted. "Anyone who can come up with a plan involving voodoo zombie tigers sure sounds like an evil genius to me."
Ena scowled. She wedged a hand in the rocks and pulled herself up, dislodging a boulder as she did so. The rock bounced down the cliff face and ricocheted from Rick's pith helmet. He cursed, and Ena smiled.
The radiation emanating from the colonel's evil mountain lair seemed to be steadily increasing Rick's IQ. Soon he might begin to wonder about the silkscreened maps and cash she'd secreted on herself. She had planned to leave Rick to the mercies of Blackheart's menagerie of zombie wildlife. Surely he would never have suspected. Maybe it was time to rethink her plans.
Colonel Blackheart's evil mountain lair...
"How dare they!" Blackheart howled. One gloved hand caressed the silky purple fur of the zombie tiger chained to a nearby pillar. "How dare they call me stupid! I detected their presence as soon as they set foot inside my fortress! I don't call that stupid!"
"Actually," a bespectacled minion said, "it was the security system that detected the intruders."
"Silence!" shouted Blackheart. ”Or I shall feed you to the tigers!"
The quaking henchman trembled at his master’s evil smile.
"Or perhaps even the rabbits." Blackheart continued. "I hear they... gnaw."
"Mercy!" begged the minion. He prostrated himself on the marble floor. "What is your wish, master?"
Blackheart's smile outshone even that of the lounging tiger. "Very well. You may redeem yourself. Prepare a little surprise for our... guests. Something involving..."
"Zombie tigers?" the minion guessed.
“Perfect!” Blackheart said happily. The Colonel pulled the tiger closer and began to stroke its ears, running gloved hands over the mystical sigils emblazoned on the beast’s furry coat.
The minion breathed a silent sigh of relief as he hurried to obey. He was nearly certain that the zombie rabbits manifested only on Mondays, but the thought of those tiny teeth chewing... and chewing... and chewing... almost made him lose his lunch. He mentally reviewed the terms of his life insurance plan as he flicked the Tiger Release switch, making a note to check the classifieds in that week's paper. The Lord of All Darkness was always looking for assistants.
Meanwhile, in the Cave System underneath Colonel Blackheart's Evil Mountain Fortress...
Ena panted. They were nearly at Blackheart's evil lair, and she was exhausted. She had nearly given up a hundred feet ago, but as the alternatives were to finish the climb or to fall to her inevitable death, she had had no choice.
"Are you all right?" Rick gasped behind her.
Ena grasped the lip of rock and pulled herself up. "We've made it!" Once again, she debated the relative merits of cutting the rope that linked her to Rick and letting him fall to his death. Biting her lip, she decided that his fighting skills in the inevitable confrontation with Colonel Blackheart would outweigh the inconvenience of betraying him once she had acquired the Colonel’s treasure. Thinking happily of the Cloud Kingdom diamonds, she bent to offer Rick a hand up onto the ledge.
"What was that?" her partner gasped as he straightened. "I thought I heard a growl."
Ena's blood chilled. She turned around very slowly. A pair of orange eyes glowed in the darkness behind her and a throaty growl filled the cavern.
"Rick, you moron!" she screamed. "You said it was a Thursday!"
Colonel Blackheart's evil mountain lair, some time later...
"You’ll never get away with this!" Ena shouted as she struggled. Rick hung in the ropes next to her like a cocooned fly in a spider web. His arms were striped with fang marks.
Colonel Blackheart stood in front of them, his crimson-coated back to them as he studied a giant map pinned up on one wall. A pair of purple-coated tigers paced in lazy circles around the room.
"Oh, really?" His voice sounded oddly feminine for such a large man. The tips of his trademark black moustaches protruded either side of his cheeks. "Do you really think you went unnoticed? My security system detected you as soon as you entered the impenetrable forest of Zarg."
Ena slumped. They never had a chance! She racked her brains and stifled a small smile. It’s a million to one chance, she thought. She flexed her wrists and a small knife dropped into her hand.
"And as for your plan," the Colonel added, "tigers share nearly ninety-five per cent of their DNA with humans. Soon my zombie hordes will be released on the outlying villages of Costa Rica."
Ena rotated the knife so that the hilt fitted neatly into her hand. "Not quite yet!" she said triumphantly, slicing the layers of ropes with a mighty wrench. The tigers growled but made no other move. The Colonel ignored them.
Cutting Rick down with a quick slash of her knife, Ena dived for her revolver, which Blackheart’s minions had thoughtfully left on a low table in the centre of the room. Rick’s gun was next to hers, and she tossed the weapon to her partner.
Before the tigers could creep closer they both fired. The gunshots were deafening in the confined room. Blackheart slumped against the wall, two bullet holes smoking in the cloth of his crimson coat.
"Well," Rick said eventually. "That was easier than I’d expected."
Ena shrugged. She glanced around, searching for piles of diamonds, or at the very least a convenient pit. Unfortunately for her, there were no diamonds. Fortunately for Rick, there was no pit. The tigers seemed to have lost interest. One of them batted a piece of string across the floor, while the other seemed to have wandered off. A white-coated minion stood shaking by one console, her eyes wide with terror.
"Don’t worry." Rick said comfortingly. "You’re safe now." He held up a hand. "As long as you renounce all Blackheart’s evil schemes, nobody will harm you."
"Wrong again." the minion said. She smiled coldly. There was no mistaking that trademark diabolical grin.
Ena and Rick looked at each other, their expressions a mirror of unspeakable horror.
"This means..." Ena said.
"We’re screwed." Rick finished.
Colonel Blackheart pressed the button to her right. A secret hatch opened beneath the ill-fated pair’s feet. Screaming, they fell.
"Perfect!" the evil Colonel said breezily as she flipped the hatch closed again, making sure the safety catch was on. A dozen minions appeared from one of the laboratory’s doors and began to clean the punctured robot double. One of them retrieved her red jacket from the defunct machine and held it out. Blackheart shrugged into the coat, ignoring the bullet holes. She removed the tiny microphone from her ear that she had used to project her own voice into the robot’s mouth. Smiling, she began to button her coat. "Remind me again where that pipe leads."
A minion consulted his clipboard. "It falls several hundred feet into the garbage chute."
The Colonel dropped the microphone into a silver tray. "And where does the chute lead?"
"The garbage passes through a robotic mincer at the bottom," the henchman replied, "then travels through a flotation device that sorts the solids from the liquids. The liquids pass through a narrow pipe no more than two inches in diameter. The solids are incinerated."
Blackheart pressed a button on a small console. A massive screen opened at one end of the laboratory. The window it exposed opened on a stunning view of the sunset over the impenetrable Forest of Zarg. Behind the forest, nearly purple in the gathering evening mist, was the Mountains of the Moon. "What’s the temperature of the incinerator?" she asked as she strolled towards the window.
"One hundred degrees centigrade, minimum." the henchman replied.
"Perfect." Blackheart smiled. She held out one hand. A minion passed her a frosted martini glass. She sat down on the low cushioned bench in front of the window and whistled. The zombie tigers curled at her feet and she rested one booted foot on their threadbare flanks. "Order some black cockerels. Tomorrow we unleash the zombies, and I don’t want to run short."
the end
Note: Inspiration for the voodoo zombie tigers found here
email: xahra99 [at] yahoo.com
"But what about Colonel Blackheart's voodoo zombie tigers?" Ena asked.
"Don't worry." Rick's chiseled jaw glinted in the lantern light. "They never manifest on Thursdays. The loa's not strong enough."
Ena sighed. Rick had been wrong before. She was also pretty certain that today was Wednesday. It was difficult to be sure. They'd been hiding in the tunnels underneath Colonel Blackheart's evil lair for months now, and she had forgotten the rhyme that recalled the number of days in every month. Did July have thirty days in it? Or was it thirty-one?
She checked the revolver holstered at her side, then her watch. "Then let's go." she said.
They were clambering through the cave system when Rick remarked, "Voodoo zombie tigers mean that Blackheart’s almost done it."
Ena rolled her eyes. “How so?" The light and the acoustics in the cave were so poor that Rick actually thought she was interested.
"Well," he said, "feline DNA is eighty-seven percent identical to humans. We've fought the Colonel’s voodoo zombie rats and zombie cockroaches. If he's managed to turn tigers, then humans can't be far behind. When we're fighting killer monkeys, then we're really in trouble."
Ena realized that her mouth was hanging open. Despite the lack of proper scientific terminology in Rick’s argument, it was easily the most intelligent sentence that her companion had uttered in the past four months. Nevertheless, Rick had a talent for jumping to conclusions and just because he'd added words such as 'chromosomes' to his vocabulary, it didn't necessarily mean that he was right.
She negotiated a particularly tricky rock. "If he manages to enslave humans, then no village will be safe."
"Oh, don't get all altruistic." Rick said, disgusted. "Need I remind you that he’s using the legendary lost diamond hoard of the Cloud Kingdoms to fund his dastardly research? The more money he fritters away on black cockerels and voodoo roots, the less money we get. And I think we deserve something for ridding the world of a psychopath."
"Saving the world shouldn't be about rewards." Ena said piously. She silently congratulated herself on her delivery. "And I wouldn't describe Blackheart as an evil genius. He has people to do that kind of work."
Rick snorted. "Anyone who can come up with a plan involving voodoo zombie tigers sure sounds like an evil genius to me."
Ena scowled. She wedged a hand in the rocks and pulled herself up, dislodging a boulder as she did so. The rock bounced down the cliff face and ricocheted from Rick's pith helmet. He cursed, and Ena smiled.
The radiation emanating from the colonel's evil mountain lair seemed to be steadily increasing Rick's IQ. Soon he might begin to wonder about the silkscreened maps and cash she'd secreted on herself. She had planned to leave Rick to the mercies of Blackheart's menagerie of zombie wildlife. Surely he would never have suspected. Maybe it was time to rethink her plans.
Colonel Blackheart's evil mountain lair...
"How dare they!" Blackheart howled. One gloved hand caressed the silky purple fur of the zombie tiger chained to a nearby pillar. "How dare they call me stupid! I detected their presence as soon as they set foot inside my fortress! I don't call that stupid!"
"Actually," a bespectacled minion said, "it was the security system that detected the intruders."
"Silence!" shouted Blackheart. ”Or I shall feed you to the tigers!"
The quaking henchman trembled at his master’s evil smile.
"Or perhaps even the rabbits." Blackheart continued. "I hear they... gnaw."
"Mercy!" begged the minion. He prostrated himself on the marble floor. "What is your wish, master?"
Blackheart's smile outshone even that of the lounging tiger. "Very well. You may redeem yourself. Prepare a little surprise for our... guests. Something involving..."
"Zombie tigers?" the minion guessed.
“Perfect!” Blackheart said happily. The Colonel pulled the tiger closer and began to stroke its ears, running gloved hands over the mystical sigils emblazoned on the beast’s furry coat.
The minion breathed a silent sigh of relief as he hurried to obey. He was nearly certain that the zombie rabbits manifested only on Mondays, but the thought of those tiny teeth chewing... and chewing... and chewing... almost made him lose his lunch. He mentally reviewed the terms of his life insurance plan as he flicked the Tiger Release switch, making a note to check the classifieds in that week's paper. The Lord of All Darkness was always looking for assistants.
Meanwhile, in the Cave System underneath Colonel Blackheart's Evil Mountain Fortress...
Ena panted. They were nearly at Blackheart's evil lair, and she was exhausted. She had nearly given up a hundred feet ago, but as the alternatives were to finish the climb or to fall to her inevitable death, she had had no choice.
"Are you all right?" Rick gasped behind her.
Ena grasped the lip of rock and pulled herself up. "We've made it!" Once again, she debated the relative merits of cutting the rope that linked her to Rick and letting him fall to his death. Biting her lip, she decided that his fighting skills in the inevitable confrontation with Colonel Blackheart would outweigh the inconvenience of betraying him once she had acquired the Colonel’s treasure. Thinking happily of the Cloud Kingdom diamonds, she bent to offer Rick a hand up onto the ledge.
"What was that?" her partner gasped as he straightened. "I thought I heard a growl."
Ena's blood chilled. She turned around very slowly. A pair of orange eyes glowed in the darkness behind her and a throaty growl filled the cavern.
"Rick, you moron!" she screamed. "You said it was a Thursday!"
Colonel Blackheart's evil mountain lair, some time later...
"You’ll never get away with this!" Ena shouted as she struggled. Rick hung in the ropes next to her like a cocooned fly in a spider web. His arms were striped with fang marks.
Colonel Blackheart stood in front of them, his crimson-coated back to them as he studied a giant map pinned up on one wall. A pair of purple-coated tigers paced in lazy circles around the room.
"Oh, really?" His voice sounded oddly feminine for such a large man. The tips of his trademark black moustaches protruded either side of his cheeks. "Do you really think you went unnoticed? My security system detected you as soon as you entered the impenetrable forest of Zarg."
Ena slumped. They never had a chance! She racked her brains and stifled a small smile. It’s a million to one chance, she thought. She flexed her wrists and a small knife dropped into her hand.
"And as for your plan," the Colonel added, "tigers share nearly ninety-five per cent of their DNA with humans. Soon my zombie hordes will be released on the outlying villages of Costa Rica."
Ena rotated the knife so that the hilt fitted neatly into her hand. "Not quite yet!" she said triumphantly, slicing the layers of ropes with a mighty wrench. The tigers growled but made no other move. The Colonel ignored them.
Cutting Rick down with a quick slash of her knife, Ena dived for her revolver, which Blackheart’s minions had thoughtfully left on a low table in the centre of the room. Rick’s gun was next to hers, and she tossed the weapon to her partner.
Before the tigers could creep closer they both fired. The gunshots were deafening in the confined room. Blackheart slumped against the wall, two bullet holes smoking in the cloth of his crimson coat.
"Well," Rick said eventually. "That was easier than I’d expected."
Ena shrugged. She glanced around, searching for piles of diamonds, or at the very least a convenient pit. Unfortunately for her, there were no diamonds. Fortunately for Rick, there was no pit. The tigers seemed to have lost interest. One of them batted a piece of string across the floor, while the other seemed to have wandered off. A white-coated minion stood shaking by one console, her eyes wide with terror.
"Don’t worry." Rick said comfortingly. "You’re safe now." He held up a hand. "As long as you renounce all Blackheart’s evil schemes, nobody will harm you."
"Wrong again." the minion said. She smiled coldly. There was no mistaking that trademark diabolical grin.
Ena and Rick looked at each other, their expressions a mirror of unspeakable horror.
"This means..." Ena said.
"We’re screwed." Rick finished.
Colonel Blackheart pressed the button to her right. A secret hatch opened beneath the ill-fated pair’s feet. Screaming, they fell.
"Perfect!" the evil Colonel said breezily as she flipped the hatch closed again, making sure the safety catch was on. A dozen minions appeared from one of the laboratory’s doors and began to clean the punctured robot double. One of them retrieved her red jacket from the defunct machine and held it out. Blackheart shrugged into the coat, ignoring the bullet holes. She removed the tiny microphone from her ear that she had used to project her own voice into the robot’s mouth. Smiling, she began to button her coat. "Remind me again where that pipe leads."
A minion consulted his clipboard. "It falls several hundred feet into the garbage chute."
The Colonel dropped the microphone into a silver tray. "And where does the chute lead?"
"The garbage passes through a robotic mincer at the bottom," the henchman replied, "then travels through a flotation device that sorts the solids from the liquids. The liquids pass through a narrow pipe no more than two inches in diameter. The solids are incinerated."
Blackheart pressed a button on a small console. A massive screen opened at one end of the laboratory. The window it exposed opened on a stunning view of the sunset over the impenetrable Forest of Zarg. Behind the forest, nearly purple in the gathering evening mist, was the Mountains of the Moon. "What’s the temperature of the incinerator?" she asked as she strolled towards the window.
"One hundred degrees centigrade, minimum." the henchman replied.
"Perfect." Blackheart smiled. She held out one hand. A minion passed her a frosted martini glass. She sat down on the low cushioned bench in front of the window and whistled. The zombie tigers curled at her feet and she rested one booted foot on their threadbare flanks. "Order some black cockerels. Tomorrow we unleash the zombies, and I don’t want to run short."
the end
Note: Inspiration for the voodoo zombie tigers found here
