Sub-Consciousness
by Robert M. Velkym

   The man watched silently from the corner of the Quicky Mart, his black aura mingling madly about his form, looking at a pair of people glancing suspiciously around. Their troubled looks passed over the man's spot. Their eyes not noticing, or better yet, not wanting to see their evil consciousness watching over them. The darkman's face showed an ever spreading smile of joy, as the people walked up to the cash register and a pimpled faced clerk.

   Across the room a woman materialized, her downward gaze caught by the presence of the darkman. She mumbled to herself, then shot her hand out toward the darkman. Bright color burst forth from her finger tips, arching across the room and into the darkman. He screamed in agony, gripping the newly charred hole in his black, floor length, trench coat. The darkman blinked, stopped screaming, and reached into his coat. His decrepit finger closed on the pommel of his weapon, an ancient rapier. He pulled it out with a long, slow, metallic screech. He held it aloft and let go an earpercing howl of rage.

   The people at the register began to shake nervously, unaware of the impending battle.

   " They are mine witch!" The darkman said in a deep broken voice, whilst he made his way to the woman.

   " They mustn't do this. It is wrong." She spat with an angelic quality, as she brandished her own weapon, a halberd sword. The circled each other looking for the first opening. The darkman lunged first, removing a small pie slice of flesh out of the woman's shoulder.

   She returned the attack and missed far to the left. The man threw back his head and laughed. His low bellowing cackle resonating of the front store windows.

   " Stealing is bad, " the woman said pleading with the man.

   " You can not beat me, their want out weighs their goodness. I WILL OVERCOME !!!" The darkman swung again, relieving the woman of her ear. Blood spirted out of the gaping hole in a pulse of crimson. As the blood was about to strike the floor it transformed into a small group of butterflies. She was now wailing, groping to find her ear amongst the rack of hostess twinkys.

   The people at the register reached into the inside of their puffy winter jackets.

   " Evil shall triumph! " the darkman hollered as he raised the rapier in two hands over his head. Muscles flexing in preparation off a death blow. He closed his eyes as his body coursed with dark, envious energy. He went to swing, the woman reached out and touched the darkman's now exposed stomach. Lightning crackled through his body, outlining his skull in blue-white tendrils of electricity. He convulsed and fell to the ground.

   She stood over him, a smile of exhilaration painted delicately on her smooth, perfect shin.

   The people at the register looked at each other. The taller one shook his head, his hand slipping from his holstered 45'.

   " Its not right, " he said under his breath, and reached out, giving the clerk a pack of Double mint gum. " Lets get out of here." the men turned a walked out the door.

   The darkman lye in defeat at the feet of the woman. She reached down and grabbed the man " Get out." she said in a voice like tinkling bells.

   " We shall meet again. " the darkman replied, " I shan't be defeated so easily next time." he pointed at her and spoke some strange phrase, blinking out of existence.

   The clerk sat watching soap operas, his hand patted his peacekeper M-16. What a day, he thought, unaware he was almost held up.