"Surreal" might be the best word to describe this one. There were definitely a few times I thought I knew what the rough outline of the story was, and then it turned out to be sort of a red herring.
At first, this feels like a relatively mundane story about an officer getting called to an abandoned building, albeit with hints that this takes place in a dystopian future (the walls around the city, the fact that certain spaces are measured in tank widths, etc.). Given that my only experience with the abbreviation comes from the Gundam franchise, I thought FCS meant Fire Control System, like on a warship.
Then I learned what it meant here and thought this might be a reverse WitS (that was rather flattering, I have to add). However, then things went a different direction again. I do have to admit I'm not sure what the significance of the FCS being broken was. The walls around the city and whatnot do ultimately make sense when the exact nature of the setting is revealed, but I'm not sure about the statue.
The final reveal is pretty cool. It's unclear if anything happened to the Earth, but I got the impression that this city is no longer on Earth, and periodically in order to maintain its status, someone needs to be...assigned, I guess, to be the ruler of the Hellspore, presumably until someone else kills them and takes their position. I could also have misinterpreted that, so apologies if I did.
I am admittedly somewhat confused about the presence of Hachishakusama in the story. She's something of a modern yokai, a being out of Japanese urban legend, so I'm not sure what she's doing in what feels like part of Hell. Then again, the Hellspore may not be region-specific, so it's possible any and all supernatural beings could show up here.
Of course, I do have to mention my appreciation for a gorgeous tall lady as your protagonist. Jenna must have a specially made seat in her cruiser given her height!
This was a fun little piece of poetry! I'm not sure if it was entirely meant to do this, but I guess due to reader expectation, there was a shift in how I perceived the poem's focus. At first, I legitimately thought it was very specific, gradually illuminating one specific story. It was only by the beginning of the third verse that I realized what was going on, and that this was the poem secretly written in the hearts of everyone following along with a...certain kind of horror movie protagonist.
I have often wondered if it would go like that in real life. Especially for certain things, I can't help but think we're all so secure in our intelligence due to sitting in a theater or on a couch watching the film, but if we were there, would we make the same mistakes?
Of course, as the poem's very title states, we do have something of a cultural grounding in certain tropes by now, so at least some of us should be able to employ the lessons in the appropriate situations.
One would hope, anyway.
Interregnum
I will admit, I tend to find malls creepy even when they're not abandoned, or derelict. BUT, if I were to have to wander around an abandoned, derelict, entirely creepy mall, I would be much happier in the company of a Belgian Malinois. Rex is a Very Good Boy!
Nice and creepy! Thank you!
You Were Warned
Oh, touché and well done!
My younger brother and I were addicted to the Friday night horror movies on television when we were young. It was a nonstop parade of (mostly) B-films from Hammer, and we'd curl up in the living room with all the lights off, a plate of leftover fried chicken, and we would watch movies from 8pm until 4am, or whenever the channel would sign off. (Yes, I'm that old.) This poem is an ode to everything we ever yelled at the television as we indulged ourselves, and I can't tell you how much fun it was. (Wait, is it supposed to be fun? It's Halloween, I know, but still...)
Thank you!
Leaffall, Ah BronxWench its always a pleasure.
“Don’t make idle wishes, not at Leaffall. It’s not only the gods who are listening.”
Gave me chills. What a wonderful addition. The town did have it coming for awhile now.
I adore it!
Kudos! A fitting homage if not a eulogy for those whose curiosity outwieghs their survival instinct!