Discover millions of ebooks, audiobooks, and so much more with a free trial

Only $11.99/month after trial. Cancel anytime.

Jezebel and the Star Monster
Jezebel and the Star Monster
Jezebel and the Star Monster
Ebook303 pages4 hours

Jezebel and the Star Monster

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars

()

Read preview

About this ebook

A dark fairy tale for adults and young adults calling for struggle and hope among dispiriting times. A anti-Trump fantasy-adventure. Jezebel seeks truth and revenge against the evil Overlord in the land Mar.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherCameron Glenn
Release dateJan 25, 2017
Jezebel and the Star Monster
Author

Cameron Glenn

Cameron Glenn grew up the third of seven children in Oregon. As a child he dedicated hours to the pursuits of basketball and cartooning, as well as waking up way too early for his paper route in order to earn money to buy toys, candy and comic books. He also loved to read and write, which he continues to do voraciously. He currently lives in Salt Lake City after having earned a BA in literature from Boise State.

Read more from Cameron Glenn

Related to Jezebel and the Star Monster

Related ebooks

Coming of Age Fiction For You

View More

Related articles

Related categories

Reviews for Jezebel and the Star Monster

Rating: 0 out of 5 stars
0 ratings

0 ratings0 reviews

What did you think?

Tap to rate

Review must be at least 10 words

    Book preview

    Jezebel and the Star Monster - Cameron Glenn

    269

    Jezebel and the Star Monster

    By Cameron Glenn

    Smashwords Edition

    Copyright 2017 Cameron Glenn

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    Jezebel and the Star Monster

    Preface

    The Jones family gathered around their holiday tree in the land of Mar. Their guest Rob, a frog person, blew a silvery bubble out of his mouth. The bubble floated around the lighted tree and landed on the soft nose of little Lilly Jones. It popped and she squealed with laughter as her family and their guests, a man of the flame people and a lady of the wind people, clapped. They sang a festive hymn of peace together and breathed in the smell of warm cookies.

    The ground trembled. The lights flickered and then turned off. They braced and tensed themselves in the darkness and uncertainty.

    A low grumbling sound vibrated the floor. Lilly whimpered. The sound stretched to form a word. Laaauuuggghhhh. Laugh.

    A pale white light shot out from the hallway casting shadows into the holiday tree room. The flame man bolted up, clenched his fists and turned his flame on. The wind lady waved her arms.

    Around the corner emerged the monster which made the light. Laugh it growled.

    The monster was quick and powerful. It fed.

    Chapter One

    This used to be my home. This used to be a good place.

    Mary whispered these words with her back against a brick wall in an ally. Her breath was quick yet steady. A slice of silver moonlight cut across her webbed foot. A sling slung over her chest carrying her newborn boy, still a tadpole. She looked down on him. What world have I brought you into?

    The clattering from an ally door being violently swung open sent Mary leaping. Her sticky webbed hands grasped a wire. She held her breath. Out of the door below her emerged two men holding sacks of garbage.

    Tough shift. Will never made it. I had to work twice as hard.

    Not like him to not show up.

    The man shrugged. Well you know what that probably means.

    But he was always so polite. I’d never heard him insult our Overlord.

    Yeah but he liked to doodle. That probably got him into trouble. Someone probably reported that he doodled an unflattering image of the Overlord. Made him look fat or something. He added in a near inaudible mumble to himself: Even though he is fat; not like facts matter.

    But who would do that? Why?

    Beats me. You can’t trust anyone.

    You don’t think he was too happy do you? Do you think the Star Monster got him?

    That will be the official report I’m sure. We have to be constantly reminded that our lives are in danger. Such a shame. He was a good kid.

    A drop of water fell from Mary’s bulbous toe and landed on the shoulder of the man below her. She held her breath. She and her people, the frog people, were not allowed in the valleys. They had been chased up the mountain and were forced to live there ever since the Overlord gained absolute power twenty years ago. It was the same for the other minority groups in the land; the flame people and the wind people. The Overlord made a law that if any people of the mountain were found in the valley they must die by mob stoning. It didn’t use to be that way. The groups once intermingled peacefully and happily, sharing foods, talents, talk, laughter and customs for the enhancement and enjoyment of all. The relationships between the people weren’t perfect. Centuries of past mistrust and abuses are hard to overcome. Yet for most, the relationships were good and getting better. There were reasons to hope. Everything changed with the mysterious emergence of the Star Monster who fed on the life force of the happy and lived in a cave on top of the mountain. In response to the Star Monster the fearful people elected the man who promised peace and protection. This man blamed the minorities for all the problems and drove them away. He placed in programs that would ensure misery so that none could become the Star Monster’s victims. He used the power of the presidency to enrich himself and his loyal cronies and to punish any who would oppose him. He ruled as a corrupt and evil tyrant. He became the Overlord.

    The man slapped the back of his neck where the water droplet had splat. He looked up. It hasn’t rained in awhile.

    He spotted Mary. In the darkness she looked like a shadow blob. He had a strong suspicion that this shadow blob he saw was a frog person. Rage flashed through his nervous system as the images of the Overlord’s propaganda assaulted his brain. The frog people, flame people and wind people had created the Star Monster. They were the ones always dabbling in magic and folklore after all. The reports of the Star Monster also attacking the minorities were just a trick, the Overlords propaganda preached. He inhaled deeply ready to bark. Mary squeezed her eyes shut.

    The other man placed his hand over the man’s shoulder. We need rain. We need a miracle.

    The angry man exhaled. True. He knew that failing to report a mountain person sighting in the valley was a crime punishable by death. He also recalled how his best childhood friend had been a frog person. How good life had been then. How blissfully naïve they had all been to the horrors which awaited the land. How free and how fun was his childhood. Especially compared with what the children of today suffered. So good in fact that he feared to dwell on it for too long as doing so might cause a tingling happiness which would attract the grisly hunger of the Star Monster. A miracle.

    The two men walked back through the door. Mary let go of the wire and landed over the cobblestone ally soundlessly. She exhaled a sigh of relief. She hurriedly scampered ahead. She stopped in the center of another obscure ally, bent down and brushed dirt away exposing wood. She knocked three times on the wood and whispered Reform the prophecy. The wood door swung open. She saw her reflection in a liquid film barrier. With her hands she made the sign of the triangle. The film popped. She stepped through this new hole in the ground. She didn’t need the ladders to descend. She hopped from one rock protrusion to another until she reached the ground. Torches lit the hallway. She emerged in the round center and greeted the others with the sign of the triangle: Neste of the flame people, Ray of the Wind People, Chester of the Valley people and a few other trusted members of this Reform, New Revolution, Revolt cult. They stood around a cauldron.

    Neste folded his arms. Do you bring news from the Scientist?

    Mary reached in the satchel where her newborn tadpole slept and pulled out a paper. Do you bring news from the Helper?

    Ray reached in his coat pocket and pulled out a paper.

    Nestle lit the cauldron on fire. Mary and Ray threw their papers into the flames. The flames turned green. The overlapping voices of The Scientist and The Helper spoke in unison. The time has come. The key will soon be placed in the girl’s heart. In four years time the mimic potion must be complete. In four years time the empathy tests must be ready. Jezebel is our only hope. Remember; you can no longer help her once she reaches the mountain. The fate of our land rests on her shoulders.

    Chapter Two

    Jezebel lived with her parents in a tiny house of logs in a small mining desert village away from the city. It was a hot desolate place near the Gold Canyon Mines where her father dug. Near the Canyon was the factory where Jezebel, just twelve years old, was forced to labor, molding and polishing the gold into egg shapes to be used in the Overlords personal decorations in his many palaces, statues and planes. The dangerous type of mining caused orange dust storms to often emerge and blanket the mining town in darkness and further misery.

    Jezebel swung her legs under the small round dining table. Father, how many days until the star orb lights up?

    In an obscure area in the desert away from the village stood an obelisk with a glass orb on top; a relic from an earlier enlightened and happier time prior to the emergence of The Star Monster and the Overlord. Near dusk on one day of the year the sun sits perfectly inline to hit the glass orb in such a way which causes a glittering dust of star rainbows to briefly illuminate the surrounding red rocky ground. Jezebel’s father kept the knowledge of it a secret only shared with his family. If the Overlord knew of it he would knock it down.

    Jezebel’s father winked. Soon.

    It is my favorite day of the year. Is it the day I live for. The thought of it makes all the other days just a little more bearable. She nibbled on her bread.

    Remember to not let it or the thought of it make you too happy, her mother chimed. You know that day scares me. If ever a thing could attract The Star Monster.

    Maybe you worry too much mother. Father, how do you know of this place anyways? And about how the sun moves across the sky? You know what the Overlord says about the dangers of education.

    He unleashes indoctrination, her father mumbled, then added more clearly: I keep telling you Jez, be patient. You are so restless. In time I’ll reveal more.

    Jezebel tore the crust off her bread. Her fingers trembled from the eight hours of golden egg polishing at the factory earlier in the day. It was hard labor for a twelve year old but she had gotten somewhat used to it. She had been born under the banner of the Overlord’s face. His scowl in statues and paintings loomed over her work station. His boastful loud angry bellowing played on repeat along with the horn belches and sirens infiltrating the factory meant to keep the children awake and productive. A familiar saying of his went: "Remember children, I keep you safe from the Star Monster. A happy worker is a dead worker. None in the history of our land Mar was ever more beloved than I." Despite the daily forced intrusion of his face and voice on her mind she had never accepted that face or voice as normal. A nagging suspicion always gnawed at her that things shouldn’t be like this. His face should never have been forced on her and the people of her land, Mar. She believed that the gray streets and parks should be free from his gaudy gold statues and palaces. She believed that the air should carry sounds of rivers and birds, not his angry commanding and boastful barks. She believed that people should not fear happiness. She sometimes wondered if the ‘Star Monster’ didn’t really exist but had just been created by the lying Overlord in order to gain control and quench his never ending thirst for power and attention. Emotionally, however, like all children and adults she feared The Star Monster. She, along with everyone, had been forced to watch movies, much claiming to be actual real footage, of The Star Monster slipping down from his mountain cave perch into the valley to then lurk in doorways and crawl under beds where he’d pop out and eat those who dared to be too happy. These movies were intended to cause nightmares and they worked. They also preached about the evils of the people of the mountain, the frog people, flame people, and wind people, which the propaganda claimed had created The Star Monster.

    Jezebel sighed. It doesn’t make sense. It’s like a riddle loop. We can’t be happy because then that’d make us unhappy, so the Overlord keeps us unhappy, which should make us happy because that keeps us safe, yet…. She slumped down, her chin resting in her palms.

    Her parents looked at each other. Her mother swatted a persistent fly away from her nose. Jezebel, dear, what did I tell you about thinking too much?

    Her father winked. Aw now, she can’t help that can she?

    Jezebel crinkled her nose. That got all jumbled up in my mind. I don’t know what words or anything mean anymore. Let me try again. We’d be unhappy if we were unsafe, so we’re kept safe by being unhappy… yet, what’s the difference? There has to be a better way.

    Her father cleared his throat. That’s dangerous talk Jez. Be careful.

    Jezebel tore off another piece of her bread and dropped it on the rotting wood floor for a nearby lizard to nibble on. She nodded. How happy can anyone be in a world where children are not allowed to be happy? Yet that’s part of it, isn’t it? The misery circle. Children are sad because their parents are sad, Parents are sad because their children are sad. Like I said, it’s a riddle loop.

    Why so much talk of happiness? her father nervously chuckled. But, there are still moments. A burst of light is worth having walked through twenty dark rooms to get to. Here and there between the cracks we gleam the light; just enough to make it all worthwhile, yet not enough or long enough to attract The Star Monster.

    There he goes again, trying to make up catchy wise-sounding sayings that are really just nonsense. Her mother began a demur giggle but then tucked it away. She looked over at her daughter to see if she may have smiled. Jezebel’s cold still expression remained stoic, to both her mother’s relief and bother.

    Her father winked. You’ll see soon enough. Be patient. He clasped his fingers under his chin and leaned forward. Do you know what I see as your greatest value?

    What father?

    Even at a young age you were able to think of others. To care about others sometimes more than yourself. Remember how worried you were when you saw that little duck alone without its mother.

    "You taught me father that caring will help me to avoid being too happy. Which is good. Yet it is hard. I admit, like my peers I sometimes go numb. It is easier that way. I fear I have lost some of that… what’s the word… compassion that you say you admired in me when I was younger."

    He warily smiled and stroked his crusty beard. Empathy. To imagine how you would feel if you were in another’s place.

    Well, that’s not so hard to do is it, we all being nearly equally miserable. Although, is it true father? The people who dwell in the Overlords castles, the ones who take our golden eggs and eat well are heard laughing? Both the parents and the children? And yet the Star Monster does not feed on them?

    Her mother laughed nervously. Well Jez, they are the extraordinary ones who keep us all safe so they deserve some perks here and there.

    Yes, I know that’s what we’re told every day, but… why, I mean… just if you were born in an Overlord castle why should that make you more extraordinarily qualified to protect us from the Star Monster?

    Well just go ahead and dwell on that; it makes you sad doesn’t it; well there’s your answer, her mother fussily explained.

    Jezebel sighed, slumped, and rested her hand on her cheek.

    Her mother clapped once. There, that’s the pout that I like to see Jez. Good girl.

    "Well now don’t you get too happy now mom."

    Her father winked. You’re right Jez. The people of the land Mar used to believe in things like equality and equal opportunity. Theoretically anyways. Before you were born. Before The Overlord came.

    His wife reached across the small round wood table and slapped his shoulder. Be careful. She looked around warily. We really shouldn’t be talking about this. The Overlord has listening monitors all over. I’ve heard he’s become quite good at hiding them.

    Jezebel sighed again. It’s so distressing.

    Where did such a little girl learn such a big word? her mother asked. Especially since the Overlord took school away from the workers.

    She shrugged. I heard dad use it.

    She’s got a good mind. And a better soul.

    Jezebel covered her eyes.

    Her mother smiled weakly. That’s right deer, keep pouting. But remember, we don’t force you to be miserable. The Overlord does that for us. Many moons ago when we had a democracy he ran on a platform of protecting us all from the Star Monster. Especially the children.

    Her father reached out and placed his hand over her mother’s hand. He claimed he’d do it in a humane way. The people were so desperate for hope that they believed his lies.

    Her mother sighed. He was so charming and persuasive. Once.

    Jezebel’s father muttered under his breath: No one knew then how bad it’d become for everyone. How good intentions can so easily be twisted and manipulated.

    Two flies which had been buzzing around their meager dinner of bread and water loudly beeped and blared red and blue pulsating lights. They were not real flies but rather two of the Overlords tiny robot listening devices disguised as flies. The voice of Lord Guillotine, the Overlords chief of security and safety, barked loudly from speakers inside the spy flies. The Overlord will not be mocked!

    Jezebel’s father leaped out of his chair and he hunched into a fighting stance. That’s because he’s a stupid, insecure, thin-skinned, bloated ego maniac! He’s a monster as bad as or worse than any monster in Mar!

    Jezebel’s mother screeched. Harold! Your temper! What have you done?

    He winked. It’s time.

    I don’t know what that means? Harold, what have you done?

    Stay where you are, the amplified voice of Lord Guillotine shouted. You are under arrest in violation of order 236: No foul word shall be uttered or disparaging thought contrived against the glorious, smartest, most masterful Overlord, valiant protector of all.

    His wife Cheryl burst into sobs. They looked just like ordinary flies. They’ve gotten so much better at disguising them. If only I had known.

    It’s my fault I brought up a taboo topic, Jezebel whispered in a dry monotone. She went numb, cold. At particularly bad moments she pretended to step outside of herself; pretend that reality was not real. This is not really happening.

    Harold balled his hands into fists. Veins bulged out his neck. You can read our minds now? He picked up a chair and flung it at the spy fly, now a pulsating orb of red and blue lights. He missed. The chair splintered into shards as it hit the wall.

    Cheryl flung herself at Harold, embracing him. His shoulders relaxed. Jezebel’s expression remained cold and flat. She was in a daze. She was often in a daze. This is just another unreal scene in a life that didn’t feel real.

    The signature rapid huh-huh-huh-huh dull cackle of Lord Guillotine rang in the room. Everyone in the land knew this cackle. It was one of the few laughs roundly heard and it usually meant something sinister had just happened or was about to happen.

    Jezebel’s parents tried ignoring it as they embraced. They didn’t want Lord Guillotine and the Overlord to irritate their last moments together. They knew the robot police would burst through their door at any moment to pull him away and drag him to prison for the ‘crime’ of speaking his mind. Not only speaking his mind but telling truths about the Overlord.

    Jezebel cocked her head to the side while observing her parents sloppy yet passionate embrace. They love each other. There are bright spots in the world. In each other. Father is always telling me to look out for the bright spots. The cracks of light. He promised me there would be more as I got older. That’s father; always trying to put a positive spin on the bleakest outlooks. Like pointing out how I would miss the beauty of the moon if I didn’t have to wake up so early to walk to the factory. Or, he’ll say, just think of how much more delicious your next meal will taste because you are hungry now. But then, in fear that perking up my attitude too much would cause me to be in a shinier mood like a glitter which attracts the gaze of The Star Monster, he’d end his positive spin on a sour note. ‘But remember, The Star Monster uses the moon to spy on us’, and ‘Yes I know it’s horrible to be hungry and that the musical sounds a growling stomach makes really aren’t all that pretty.’

    She looked at her parents hugging and thought there, between them now, is a bright spot. And soon it will be taken away.

    The wails of the brass sirens signaling the coming orange dust storm had been drowned out by the blaring of the spy flies. The whirring wind of the quickly approaching orange dust storm rose above both sounds.

    Jezebel’s parents de-clenched. Cheryl ran to the window and opened it letting in wild swirling wind and dust. The full force of the storm striking was just moments away. Jezebel knew the drill. Cover yourself in a blanket, cower in the corner, squeeze your eyes shut, cover your mouth and breathe through your nose to try and limit how long after you’ll be coughing up dust from out of your lungs. Some also insisted that you cover your ears as well to keep the dust from crawling up through your ear canal infesting your brain.

    Harold, this is good news. The storm will slow the police and cause a near blackness. You can escape. Maybe we all can.

    He shook his head. The robot police have devices to see through the darkness. They didn’t share those with us.

    Cheryl’s eyes grew wide and her nose flared. You have to try.

    Harold walked towards Jezebel and lowered himself to meet her at eye level. She tried to smile. She wished she could cry and show the emotion that her mother had. Deep down she felt that same heat but it was submerged in icy stone layers of numbness.

    Despite the barriers she loved her father with the same passion that her frantic mother displayed. She wished she could prove her love through tears. Or a smile. She greeted his gaze with a blank expression.

    In a home and land where happiness could be fatal, love or the outward expression and full force of it, was toxic. That’s why her father

    Enjoying the preview?
    Page 1 of 1