S. L. U. T. : Dorothea pt 1

Dorothea stood in front of the mirror examining her body. Her skin is the color of cinnamon that's as smooth as flower petals and sparkled like honey in the sun. She was muscular. Years of training under Captain Hadley will do that to body. But still curvy and thick. She attributed that to her mother. Voluptuous women ran all the way down the Martin bloodline. So did the ability to grow and control nature.

Plants grew taller and stood straighter when she walked by as a little girl, her mother allowed her abilities to go unchecked until they awoke one morning to find their house in a canopy of African Juniper. They lived in the middle of suburbia in Louisiana. Her mother then believed her abilities were specialized in plant life. All of the women could control all bits of nature but some specialized in elements of plants or weather. After an incident involving a hurricane, Wilma Martin knew her daughter was more than the regular Martin sort of special.

Soon after they moved to Chicago, so Dorothea could be enrolled in Amina Makeda Academy. It is a safe haven for meta girls to learn to use their powers, when not to use their powers and to become smart, strong constructive members of society. Or if they so choose, upon graduation, they can apply for S. L. U. T. Adept membership. After finishing university, they may apply for Senior membership.

Some girls of course are exceptions to the rule. Dorothea was one of those. Having proved herself in the field time and again to be a valued hero and humanitarian she was awarded Adept membership after rescuing a group of sixth graders while in the middle of her powerless training from another student's runaway robot who mistook them for a threat during a water balloon fight.

She grabbed jump ropes from the gym to trip up the machine then jammed a push broom into it's head. Not an easy task for a fifteen year old, especially one who was adjusting to life without her abilities.

Today was a special day for Dorothea. In exactly one month she would graduate. Then her mentor, who be assigned to her today, would begin the next phase of her role inside S. L. U. T. and in the civilian world. She was hoping for Smoque or Clockwork. But really anyone of the core members would will be amazing. She felt strongly about her chances of being of taught by one of the Five.

She walked to her closet and just stared. Despite the large selection, she hated clothes. The world would much happier naked. Nothing to hide behind claiming self expression. Or modesty. But they were a necessary evil, so she tried to have a large variety. Considering the importance of the day, she wanted something memorable. Something that would help her stand out to her mentor, which she knew to be just a bit silly. Mentors looked at actions. Not packaging.

So she finally decided on comfort. She pulled out a flowy light fabric dress. It was brightly colored and easy to move in.

She hung it up on the door, not ready yet to get dressed. She flopped on her bed, loving the coolness of the sheets on her skin.

Dorothea could not contain her excitement for the day, accidently causing a patch of sunflowers to grow outside her window.

"Oops. Sorry little ones. I'll have to repot you later."

During her conversation with the new foliage a letter was slid under her door.

She grabbed it with excited fingers. Eager to tear it open but also not wanting to rip it in her excitement. The envelope was made of thick paper the S. L. U. T. emblem was embossed in gold on the front, and in a purple wax seal on the back. The school colors, the colors of royalty, to remind the girls they are queens, with or without their meta abilities.

She carefully lifted the wax seal, not wanting to break it, then removed the letter. The letter paper was of similar quality to the envelope, the school's emblem was embossed at the top.

Dear Dorothea Martin,

       We are happy to in inform you that in one month you will be graduating from Amina Makeda Academy. In the interim, we encourage you to stay focused on your studies during your apprenticeship with a  S. L. U. T. member.

      Your mentor will there to help you decide if becoming an active member of S. L. U. T. is really your life path. Or if you would be better suited using your abilities as a civilian.

      With the selflessness you have shown in your years in the Academy by helping others, your teacher's aid credits in your sustainability courses and your independent nature we have decided that you would best be suited by having your Mentor be Serafine.

     You will be meeting with her this afternoon at 3pm in Nefertiti Court. Do not be late.

           Where women rule, a stream runs uphill.

                                    Sincerely yours,

                                       Dean Arwyn Douglass

Dorothea reread the letter over and over. She wasn't sure how she felt. The anticipation had stopped building. Serafine. She was the youngest core member. That must be why she was placed in her group. Relatability. Or maybe it was a test. Serafine is a fire elemental. Dorothea is practically a forest nymph. Maybe S. L. U. T. wanted to know if they could find a common ground.

Her mind swirled with possibilities, but before she could get to far into her daydream, the fire alarms went off.

The City will be coming soon!

Ashtyn Foster, the writer of the S.L.U.T. series is going to have her first published short story in the cyberfunk collection The City. If you are interested check out the first official press release! The book will be available in both physical and digital copies. Check it out!

The City Press Release

Break

Due a family tragedy, all S. L. U. T. stories will be postponed for the next two weeks to allow time for grieving.

S.L.U.T. : Ambrosia pt 2

I still have only two eyes. One nose. One mouth. Two ears. However my nails have become claws and I'm green. Okay, I can handle this.

I still have my hair. It's blue but still here. Teeth look good. Better than they did before. So that's something. Oh, Lord I have a forked tongue. I don't really look like a lizard. More like I have a skin condition. It'll be fine. Maybe I could start a new trend while I wait for the doctor to fix me.

All these thoughts whirled through Ambrosia's mind right before she hurled the mirror at the wall.

I am NOT okay.

Dr. Harrison didn't flinch having expected that reaction.

"Ambrosia it will be okay. The agents at Bermuda were able to get samples of all the chemicals that were used on you. We are working to identify them."

"Who is we?"

"When you were rescued, even if you hadn't passed out, Smoque wouldn't have told you anything. She isn't very good at the people part of this job. You are under S. L. U. T. headquarters."

"My mother contacted you?"

"She asked for Smoque specifically. She wanted you back and for justice to be done."

"Justice! I'm half blind, green and only God knows what else is wrong with me? When she sees me justice will be the least of her concerns!"

Ambrosia felt a burning sensation in her chest. It hurt like nothing she'd ever felt in her life. The closet that even came to it was the burning of the chemicals as the coursed through her veins, but seemed like a mild irritant compared to what was happening to her now.

She curled into a ball on the bed knocking over the IVs and causing the machines to beep wildly. The pain only increased. Ambrosia felt as she were going to die. She nearly wanted to to make the pain stop. Rolling onto her back to lay flat she opened her mouth to scream and fire covered the ceiling.

The sprinkler system came on then immediately melted. The pipes burst and the room was half flooding half in flames. Dr. Harrison went to Ambrosia in an attempt to calm her.

"DON'T TOUCH ME!"

"I need to make sure you're alright."

"The room is on fire and it's because of me. I am NOT alright."

"We need to leave this room. The alarms are going off a team will be here-"

What was left of the door was kicked in a five women dressed all in black stormed in.

"It's a code 6 ladies you know what to do."

"Captain, this girl has no idea what is happening to her. This is not a code 6." Dr. Harrison stepped in front of Ambrosia's bed, arms spread wide.

"Then what would you have me do? The room is on fire. The students are freaking out. And water is not putting this out."

"It's dragonfire you need magic to dispel it. Get Serafine. You two, help me with my patient. Then start evacuating this floor."

The authority in the doctor's voice got the women moving with a different purpose. The two Dr. Harrison indicated to picked up Ambrosia as the doctor grabbed her IVs to walk behind them.

Ambrosia heard the captain send one of the two women left to get Serafine, while she and the last woman started helping with the evacuation.

"Ambrosia, dear, I need you to trust me. I'm going to inject you work something That will help you sleep."

"Why...did you feel the need....to qualify that...?"

Her speech was slowed and her voice hoarse.

"Because" she walked around to face the heiress and pointed a gun at her then fired.

"It's going to hurt."

S. L. U. T. : Ambrosia pt 1

The room was bright. Far too bright for Ambrosia's eyes, even though they were closed. Her head felt foggy. The last thing she remembered...she started to panic. Too bright or not she had to escape.

She thought she heard her name. She calmed only slightly. Smoque's helmet came to mind. She remembered being rescued. But she didn't know where she was.

"What's going on?" her voice sounded strange to her ears.

"You are in a specialized facility. My name is Dr. Harrison. You have been through quite a traumatic ordeal, Ambroisa. How do you feel?"

A woman. Good. "Everything hurts. I can't open my eyes because it feels like there are floodlights in here and I sound like I've been smoking since the 1920's."

She heard the doctor walk away then the sound of the blinds being closed, then a button clicked.

"Try opening your eyes now."

"That is a lot better. What did you do?"

"I removed the light. It would appear that you have night vision."

"And what happened to my regular vision?"

"For now, it would appear that it is nonexistent. But don't fret, if Madeline Morrison can see during the day, then you should be able to as well. You just need to practice. My thoughts would be that in a few short months you'll be back to normal in no time."

"Madeline Morrison?"

"Big Mama Marsh's real name. We find find it best to not acknowledge the criminal as their ailis here. It only feeds into their criminal persona. And it helps survivors such as yourself forgive if you see them as people who are sick rather than megalomaniacs."

"I was snatched from my car, that thing killed three of my guards and then she injected God knows what into my dna, and you expect me to forgive them?"

"For your own good. Not theirs."

"Never.

"What else did she do to me?"

"I think one shock a day is---"

"Doctor. I need to know."

Dr. Harrison sighed, "If you insist."

She walked across the room and grabbed a mirror. Then handed it to her patient.

"Now please understand we are working very hard to ensure that whatever was done to you will be reversed."

Ambrosia took a deep breath and turned the mirror towards her face.

Modern Day Lynchings

They call them routine traffic stops

They say they are doing their jobs

They call it protecting the streets

They say it was self-defense

They call us a menace

They say we bring it upon ourselves

Tell me why children are left without fathers

Tell me why mothers are left without sons

Tell me why sisters are left without brothers

Tell me why our women are forgotten

Tell me why lives are reduced to a hashtag

Tell me why we are still feared and hated

I tried to write down the names of the dead

I began to weep

How can so many people be stolen

How can so many lives be exterminated

Without so much as a second thought

By some trigger-happy child with a badge and gun

If my ancestors looked down at the world now

What would they say

Would they be proud

Or would they weep at the lack of progress

We are no longer slaves

But we are still not free

We are not free to name our children without ridicule

We are not to basic education

We are not free to safety

We are not free work and earn equal pay

We are not free to walk the streets

We are not free to live without fear

Fear for our lives

Fear for our children

Fear for our homes

Fear of those who swore to protect

Fear of the law that is to be upheld

Fear that one day they win

Imagine

Imagine with me a world where it’s safe to walk the streets at night,

 Instead of filled with fear and paranoia

Imagine with me a world where people bring each other up,

 Instead of holding them down.

Imagine with me a world where our elderly are exalted and cared for,

 Instead of treated with disdain and pity

Imagine a world with me a world where we went to war to save people,

 Instead of to save oil

Imagine with me a world where the standard of beauty is one that raises all women,

 Instead of demeaning and stolen

Imagine with me a world where a black president is the norm,

 Instead of making history

Imagine with me a world where the police protected and served,

 Instead of hid behind their badges and guns.

Imagine with me a world where a single mother could raise her children to be able to stand on there own,

 Instead of being shamed and looked down upon

Imagine with me a world where our prisons, weren’t filled passed capacity,

 Allowing real criminals to wander free and young kids are left to rot because an example needed to be made

Imagine with me a world where all teachers cared for there students,

 Instead of making tenure

Imagine with me a world where we didn’t need to create awareness,

 Because people are already aware and want to do better

Imagine with me a world where obesity isn’t an epidemic,

 Because our children are given actual food

Imagine with me a world where children can play outside unsupervised,

 Instead of monitored online

Imagine with me a world where education and hard work are rewarded

Imagine with me a world where whom I marry is my choice,

 Instead of a right that needed to be fought for

Imagine with me a world where rape isn’t a culture

Imagine with me a world where religion isn’t known for promoting hatred,

 Instead of offering love

Imagine with me a world where our churches didn’t burn, or sons didn’t die in the streets by the people who were meant to protect them

Imagine with me a world where our children didn’t grow up with fear of being killed for no reason other than being black

Imagine with me a world where I didn’t need to write this poem,

 Because everyone already knew.

Welcome to S. L. U. T.

Slut.

This word has been and is still used to tear women down. It is thrown across the internet at the girl gamer for speaking out against sexism. And at the Youtuber who keeps her videos clean and tasteful. Boys call women in bars who reject them sluts. Boys call the women who do eventually have sex with them sluts. Girls call each other sluts because she develops faster than the others. Or because they prefer the company of boys. Or are liked more the others by boys, especially if they have done nothing special to receive the attention.

What is a slut? It used to mean a dirty, sloven man, as defined by Geoffrey Chaucer (c 1386). The term then broadened to women. Eventually becoming more identified with women. William Shakespeare used slut in place of bitch when discussing a female dog. But in 1450, the word slut was widely used to describe sexually promiscuous women. It was akin to calling a man a rake. The word rake has come up in the world, now being a tool in which people gather leaves or create designs in zen gardens.

Sisterhood Legion of Universal Tranquility

When I decided to create a group of female heroes, I agonized over what to call them. I wanted a name that would be recognized. Something would stand out from the other female teams that have been put together.

What if I call them SLUT? But it would need to have meaning. Not solely to shock or standout. So I had to really think what do I want from these women. To show a bond between women. To show female strength. To show women who can work together without always being at each other's throats. To show women who can love each enough to be blunt. To show that women can play with the "big boys" and even keep a few on the side just for fun.

This series will hopefully be fun to read. I plan to incorporate humor where appropriate (and sometimes where it isn't) lots of action and smart characters. Enjoy! And welcome to S.L.U.T.

S. L. U. T.: Ursula pt 3

Ursula prayed this would work, she would hate to use this threat, but there were more lives at stake than a drug lord's family.

Jávier trembled with hatred for the woman standing before him. How this bitch come into his home, destroy everything he worked so hard for, murder his men, release his forced labor, then attack him in his own office. Now she threatened his family. She couldn't have done all of this on her own.

The worst part was that she didn't even try to look imposing. She looked bored. Like she did this everyday and had better things to do. Fucking bitch.

"Tell my family will be safe."

"You, señor, are in no position to make negotiations. Besides, I already promised that."

"Then call this a dead man's last wish."

Ursula gestured for him to proceed.

"Tell me who betrayed me."

Ursula laughed. She didn't mean to, it just came out. "After."

"The ship is going to port in Ciudad del Carmen, where the drugs will be distributed and moved so we can get them into the States."

"When?"

"In 2 days time."

"Thank you. I know cooperating with the woman about to kill you isn't easy. As for who betrayed you......Are you sure you want to know?"

"Yes damn you!"

"It was Maritza."

"LYING BITCH! She would never"

"But she did. She loves you. But she loves her children more. And despite being a good husband and father, you are a bad person, and she couldn't take this life anymore. Watch."

Ursula again showed Mr. Marconi her phone.

Maritza Marconi was standing in frame her long black hair cascaded over her shoulders. She wore a red dress. The dress she wore the first night of their honeymoon. His favorite dress.

"Javier, mi amore, please forgive me. I cannot live this life anymore. Our children cannot live this life anymore. You have not been what we needed. The deeper you dove into this world of decadence and sin the farther from us you became.

"I would sooner live with the guilt of knowing I killed you than to have our children die screaming in fear, because of your war. I love you. But I must think of our children. Goodbye Javier."

The recording ended.

"Divorcing you would never have kept them safe." Ursula wasn't sure why she felt the need to say something semi-comforting.

"Just do it."

Ursula put her gun directly on his forehead and pulled the trigger. Javier's lifeless body fell backwards in the chair. She shot him three more times in the chest, then went to the liquor cabinet. She grabbed a few bottles and smashed them around the room. Then poured one over and around the body. She lit a match, dropped it on Javier and walked out. In the hallway was the the result of her attack. Bodies of Javier's mini army and his workers lay strewn about. She was sorry for deaths of the innocent, but the assistance was necessary.

As she walked away from the property the oversized mansion exploded. She couldn't suppress her smile as she continued to walk away. "Just like in the movies" she thought.

A Note About Spirit Lake

Alrighty, I best get this out of the way now.  Spirit Lake is going on hiatus for a few weeks.  Why? So many reasons, but the main two are this.

1) I am writing a whole bunch of series at the moment, plus work, and pretty soon school.  Time is just not on my side with this one.  So, I would rather put the series on hiatus and get the work done well, instead of just quickly.

2) About getting the work done well...  I'm not too happy with Spirit Lake right now, and it needs some major tinkering.  As I said before, I'm working on a bunch of other series, and haven't had the time to sit down and really think the series through in great detail.  So, instead of floundering around and trying to figure things out as I go, I'm going to retool the series and try to get it to work.  I learned my lesson after Accidental Demon Slayers: Melody of Light, or as I like to call it, The Series that Broke My Brain.

This will not change the schedule for S.L.U.T, which will still be posting regularly, and I will update you all when I figure out what exactly I'm going to do with Spirit Lake.

Spirit Lake: The House Next Door pt.12

I pushed through the door. 

Just as expected, my entrance made the man’s hand retreat from my husband’s shoulder.

Zack spun around in his chair.

Was that guilt I saw in his face?

“Darren,” he smiled at me. 

It looked forced. 

“I was just checking out the downtown, and thought I would stop in.” I cleared my throat.  “I didn’t mean to interrupt.” 

The man, the one I didn’t know, stood up and walked towards me. 

His steps were smooth, and his body moved with ease.  He seemed to almost glide across the room. 

“I was actually just leaving.”  He stopped in front of me, and held out his hand.  “My name is Phillip Orion. “ 

I took his hand and gave it a half assed shake. 

“Nice to meet you.” My voice came out weaker than I had hoped.

His eyes seemed to read my discomfort.  His smile grew.  “I’m the realtor who sold your... husband, right?”

I nodded. 

“I sold your husband this store.” He glanced back at Zack.  “Hopefully you don’t hold that against me.”

When he looked back at me I could get a better look at him.  His face was sharp, chiseled.  His jaw was narrow and smooth.  His eyes… his eyes had a predatory glint in them that scared me a little, but at the same time enticed me.  It was… odd. 

“I really must be going.  I have an old house up in the hills to show today.”  Phillip headed towards the door.  “I’ll see you around, Darren?”

I nodded. 

S. L. U. T.: Ursula pt 2

Now as a member of S. L. U. T., she had a bit more free range. She took assignments for whoever could pay. Helped out her team when they needed her. And the government stayed out of her hair.

Which was good, because today she was on a coca plantation in Ecuador ending a drug feud.

Getting into the house had been the easy part. Jávier Marconi had sent his wife and children on an indefinite vacation in Europe while he and his adversary, Tomás Della Torre, continued their war fueled by slave labor, drug addicts, and fear tactics. Which meant his security was light and mostly canine. Dogs were always a sore spot for Ursula, she hated to shoot them, but she also had no intentions of getting torn apart. She rubbed raw steaks in sleeping powder and tossed them near the watchdogs.

The guards she didn't mind killing outright. It may seem backwards to some people, but dogs are much easier to retrain than people. These men abused their "workers", separated mothers from children, and gang rapes, along with daylight executions were a part of daily life. So ending their sad existence was more of a humanitarian act than murder.

But what Marconi didn't know was that Tomás was already dead. Ursula didn't bother to make it look like an accident. She also didn't make it look like some attack from a drug kingpin. She wanted the world to know the Sisterhood of Universal Tranquility had been there. Granted there was nothing tranquil about what she did to Senõr Della Torre but he profited from the sickness, addiction and death of inner city and minority people in the States. Not to mention countless others across the world. If it was only cocaine their drug feud wouldn't have been so high on Ursula's list of things to take care of, but they were cutting it with something else to increase their profits and make it even harder, if not impossible to kick the habit. She didn't know what and she didn't care. This entire place was going to burn when she was through.

Jávier was tied to a chair. Bloodied and battered from Ursula's first round of questioning. He seemed intent on not giving her any information about where the latest shipment of his drugs were heading.

"If you are concerned about your family, don't be. The Sisterhood of Universal Tranquility will make sure they are taken care of. We don't hurt women and children. Unlike James over there." Jávier's bodyguard lay dead in the doorway. "We didn't get much time chat before things got serious. So let's just talk. I shot James' balls off when I got here, as you saw, before blowing his useless brains all over the walls. Would you like to know why?"

Jávier stared at the assassin. He knew why. James was a pig. But he sated his sick lust on the orphaned workers in the factory and on the plantations instead of somewhere he could be caught and arrested. Because giving up a giant operation like Marconi's would seem like a great idea opposed to getting stabbed regularly by security guards and prisoners alike in jail.

"James was in the children's quarters. He was your second. You had to have known about his…activies. I stopped him today and promised the children he would never hurt them again. And I always keep my word. Your fields are on fire and workers are fleeing. You have no reason to NOT tell me where that boat is coming into port. And every reason in the world TO tell me where and when."

Jávier still sat only staring. Ursula could feel his rage and hatred building.

"Fine. Have it your way. A few of my best people have infiltrated your family's vacation." She was tinkering on her phone as she spoke. "This is them." She turned the screen toward her captive and leaned in very close "Now I don't want to have to murder your family while they are having such a good time. But if you don't tell more what I want to know, I will kill them and make you watch. Then I will kill you so the last thing you ever see is them scared and betrayed and dying. Then I will find out what I want to know anyway." She leaned back. "I will just be much more cross about it. All I have to do is push this button" She pointed to her watch "and your wife gets her throat slit followed by your children."

Spirit Lake: The House Next Door pt.11

Zack’s store was still closed, but he had washed the thick, caked soap off of the front window, and had whipped together a simple little display.  A white cardboard sign with the words “Opening Soon”  sat nestled between two of the latest beach reads.

I gave the door a push.

It opened, and I stepped inside. 

A coughed as a cloud of dust invaded my nose and mouth. 

“Zack?” I made my way towards the front counter.  My mouth felt chalky from the dust.

I headed towards the door that led to the storeroom and the back office. 

I could hear voices on the other side. 

It was two men.  One was Zack, but the other... I couldn’t recognize it. 

There voices were low, and they spoke in a familiar, casual way. 

The other man, the man I couldn’t recognize, laughed. 

I cracked the door open. 

Zack sat as his desk, and a man, in his early forties sat on the edge of the desktop. 

His hand was on Zack’s shoulder.  He wore a suit, his salt and pepper hair was pulled back in a neat pony tail. 

He was handsome.

He was smiling at my husband.

My husband was smiling back. 

I knew that smile.

That was the smile he reserved only for me.

Spirit Lake: The House Next Door pt.10

I passed by some tourist shops, packed to the brim with T-shirts and cheap knickknacks that would be quickly discarded not long after being gifted.  I stopped at one of the open store fronts and glanced at the shelves filled with snow globes and little shells with crazy eyes glued to them. 

The gifts for those who had given up on caring. 

Zack’s store was only one block farther, but I took my time. 

This was my new home.  This was my new life. 

I shook one of the snow globes. 

The little plastic sign that said Spirit Lake had come loose and floated with the drifting flecks of artificial snow. 

This was my new life.