Markey Monkey the Emperor of Evil

On the back wall of throne room in the castle of The Burning Hammer hung a full-length mirror with an ornate black and grey filigree frame. Despite the deepening black of the mirror pane, it emitted an ominous glow like dying embers at night. In the center, you could almost see the visage of a disappointed father.

An eight year old child stood with his head down and his hands behind his back in front of the mirror but several feet back. He kicked one shoe against the cobblestone floor, and it made a loud squeak. He said, “But dad, I don’t want to take the zombies out today. Do you have any idea how many people I need to kill to get your crazy machine up to even a little power? I took the hoard of devil children out to Illinois yesterday. We killed half the people in Chicago and the screen is still blinking and saying its critically low.”

The image of old man in the mirror affected a stern look and said, “Mark.” That is how you could tell he was mad. Typically, he would call his son ‘Markey the Monkey,’ ‘Monkey Head,’ or ‘Markey Mark and the Funky Bunch’ that is, when he wasn’t calling him by made up words like ‘Farblegooble’ or ‘Snoopledoople.’ He said, “Mark, come here.”

Mark took a step back and said, “No.”

The image said, “What do you mean, no?”

Mark swiveled back and forth on one foot avoiding eye contact with the evil vision in the mirror and said, “No, dad. You’re mad.”

The ominous glow of the mirror dimmed a little. “No son. I am trying to look stern. I mean I am putting a lot on you. And I want you to call it ‘The Portal of Souls’ not ‘crazy machine.’ It makes it sound a lot more scary.  You know fear is an important tool in the arsenal of every good emperor of evil.”

Mark said, “But dad, I don’t want to be an emperor of evil. I want an Xbox 5. Billy’s dad bought him an Xbox.”

The ominous glow got brighter. “We don’t have the money.” The image looked a little pensive. “The money I have to shell out in alimony.” The image shook its head. “Look just don’t get married. That’s all I ask. You know all I want is the best for you.”

Billy looked up at his father’s image with his best ‘innocent’ look, “We can use my money. I’m rich. I have more money than anything.”

The Evil image said, “Yes. Yes, Marky Poo, it looks like a lot because I drop all my change in your piggybank, but it can’t be more than forty or fifty dollars.”

Mark whined, “Dad.”

The evil image said, “No, we just can’t do it. It’s final.”

Mark started to cry. “Dad, you hurt my feelings.”

The evil vision in the mirror didn’t know what to do. He knew he was right, but his son was crying. The poor little boy was just overwhelmed. He just needed to calm down. The vision said, “It’s OK, son. Just stop crying.”

Mark whimpered. “I can’t.”  He kept crying.

The evil vision said, “Oh sweet little Markey Monkey, why don’t you sit down in the throne and cuddle with my desiccated corpse like we used to do before my soul was trapped in this mirror.”

Mark said, “OK, dad.” He climbed up and sat on the arm of the throne leaned against his dad’s boney corpse and wiped his tears on the shirt over the dead shoulder. He calmed almost instantly, and before long he was no longer even breathing hard. He said, “Dad, I feel better now.” He was still cuddling his dad’s corpse.

The evil vision said, “I love you, son.”

Mark looked at the mirror and said, “Too.”

The evil vision smiled a genuine warm smile, and said, “OK, Markey are you ready to take out the zombies? I heard there are still some survivors hiding out in the Great Lakes area.”

Mark smiled at the evil image of his father in the mirror and said, “OK, dad.”

The evil image in the mirror stood proud and watched its son walk out the throne room door and begin the chant to raise the corpses from the dead. The evil image thought, that little boy will make his father proud by the end of the day. The evil image wasn’t wrong. That was a black day for the state of Illinois. Death drenched in blood and giant gouts of hellfire that can still be seen to this day.

17 thoughts on “Markey Monkey the Emperor of Evil

    1. Yes. Put a link to it or something. I am glad you liked it. I wrote a Halloween poem that–while I thought it was good–just felt like it didn’t say what I wanted it to. In fact, it felt like a bunch of words that didn’t leave a vivid memory in my mind. So I wanted this story to fix that. I think it did. Thank you for reading my stuff.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. You’ve got plenty of time for a Halloween story. I’m being lazy and using one of mine from a couple of years ago! Hell, I’m not going to provide a link; I’m going to post your whole story on FB’s Write Here! And that will take people to your site. Great stuff! PS – you really should look for that password, lol!

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Nothing quite so esoteric as that! Members post their stories and hopefully the readers are entertained and leave feedback. As admin, I always comment unless it has something to do with politics or vaccines; I’m not getting involved in that mess! I also share/post directly from my WP site so people can see all my other stuff, not just the story I’m posting on any given day. You need to be a member to post but anyone can read the stories. At the mo there’s a good number of members but only a handful of faithful contributors. That’s OK – ain’t holding a gun to anyone’s head!

        Liked by 1 person

  1. I think I couldn’t open your IMessage because we’re not FB friends. Am not a techie guru, just enough knowledge to get by. You should be able to get on my profile page from Write Here. If yes, you can send a friend request if you wish.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. I saw it. Peter writes gorgeous prose, Paul is incredibly talented and Colin likes to get all political on your ass. I’m somewhere in the middle! Looking forward to more posts by you.

        Liked by 1 person

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