Deirdra and the War God (a short play)

Setting:  The throne room of the WAR GOD.  There is an elaborate throne.  He is dressed in armour with a large sword in his hand.

WAR GOD:  And now, for my favourite part, bring in the human sacrifice!

(DEIRDRA is led in by the GUARD.  She is either in chains or tied up.  She is grinning)

DEIRDRA:  Wow I can't believe it!  This is my first time!  It's so exciting!

WAR GOD:  (He is deflated by her excitement)  Do you know why you're here?

DEIRDRA:  Of course!  I get to save my village from being mercilessly slaughtered by sacrificing myself!  Are you the War God?  You are gorgeous!

WAR GOD:  (Frowns)  You shouldn't be happy about this.

DEIRDRA:  Why not?  I finally get to meet you!

WAR GOD:  I am going to end you.

DEIRDRA:  (Giggles)  Don't threaten me with a good time!

WAR GOD:  You'll be stabbed.  Repeatedly.  It's going to hurt.

DEIRDRA:  You really know how to sweep a girl off her feet, don't you?

WAR GOD:  You will die in agony.

DEIRDRA:  (Sighs lovingly)  I can really sense what a sweetheart you are beneath those death threats.  It's like we're soulmates.

(They stare at each other in silence)

WAR GOD:  You are ruining everything.

DEIRDRA:  I'm sorry.  Am I doing something wrong?

WAR GOD:  Yes.  You are not supposed to enjoy this.

DEIRDRA:  I'm not?

WAR GOD:  No.

DEIRDRA:  Why?

WAR GOD:  Because you're about to die horribly.   You should be terrified.  You know, begging, pleading, crying, bargaining --

DEIRDRA:  Oh, I know how to bargain.  If you kill me, I'll haunt you forever. Ours is a true love.

WAR GOD:  No!

DEIRDRA:  Am I doing it wrong?

WAR GOD:  Yes!

DEIRDRA:  You are adorable when you're angry.

WAR GOD:  I give up.  Bring in another one!

GUARD:  Umm, your Murdership?

WAR GOD:  What?

GUARD:  She's the only one we have.

WAR GOD:  What about the back up?

GUARD:  Died of Syphilis on the way here.

WAR GOD:  And the back up to the back up?

GUARD:  Killed herself.

WAR GOD:  Really?  How?

GUARD:  Drowned herself in a puddle of her own urine.

WAR GOD:  Huh.  Impressive.

GUARD:  (Nods sagely)  I know.

WAR GOD:  (Mutters to himself)  So she's all we've got.  (A beat.  He wanders over to the far side of the room.  Then he tosses his sword on the floor and says loudly)  There will be no sacrifice this year!  Let the villages burn!

DEIRDRA:  (Angrily)  Hey!

WAR GOD:  What?

DEIRDRA:  I'm right here!

WAR GOD:  And?

DEIRDRA:  Sacrifice me!

WAR GOD:  No.

DEIRDRA:  Why not?

WAR GOD:  I don't feel like it.

DEIRDRA:  This is completely unfair!  Do you know how long I've waited for this?

WAR GOD:  Not long enough.

DEIRDRA:  I had to grow up!  I endured puberty, for years, just so you could kill me.

WAR GOD:  My heart bleeds for you.

DEIRDRA:  (Genuinely touched) Oh, you care for me?  That is so sweet.

WAR GOD:  It was sarcasm.

DEIRDRA:  Oh.  So what happens now?

WAR GOD:  (Walks back to his throne)  I will have the villages and everyone in them decimated.  I will send you back to live alone.  Forever.

DEIRDRA:  (Gasps)  You wouldn't!

WAR GOD:  Try me.

DEIRDRA:  That's not the deal!  You kill me -- they live.  I volunteered.

WAR GOD:  You don't qualify.

DEIRDRA:  This is bullshit!

WAR GOD:  Guard, take her back to her cell.

(DEIRDRA screams and charges the GUARD.  They fall together.  The GUARD yelps and rolls away)

GUARD:  Ow!

WAR GOD:  What?

GUARD:  She bit me!

WAR GOD:  (Disbelieving)  What?

GUARD:  She bit my shoulder!

WAR GOD:  That is disgusting.

GUARD:  She bit me!  Like a dog!  What is wrong with her?  Ow!  It stings!

WAR GOD:  Huh.  I'm ... (His eyebrows knit together as he searches for the worlds to describe this strange new feeling)  I admire her.

(While the GUARD and the WAR GOD have this exchange, DEIRDRA flounders to her feet and struggles to the sword.  She fumbles it up and kneels, the blade pointed at her heart.  Once she's in position the WAR GOD notices her.)

WAR GOD:  Oi!  Girl!  What are you doing?

DEIRDRA: (Glares at him)  What you wouldn't.

(They stare at each other.)

WAR GOD:  You are psychotic.  I like it.

DEIRDRA:  I don't care.  You killed my dream.

WAR GOD:  (Smirks)  I'm quite good at that.

DEIRDRA:  You talked about stabbing me.  I figure if I run myself through on this sword my sacrifice will be good.  I'm not a total idiot.

WAR GOD:  (Studies her)  You are diabolical.  (He bows)

DEIRDRA:  I'm just looking for a noble death.  Why can't you give me that?

WAR GOD:  You are much too enthusiastic.

DEIRDRA:  So?

WAR GOD:  It's off-putting.

DEIRDRA:  Can't a girl love her Grim Reaper?

WAR GOD:  No.  That's not the way it works.  You blubber, I murder.

DEIRDRA:  Stubborn god.  Fine.  I'll murder myself then.  It's going to be glorious.

WAR GOD:  Not it's not.

DEIRDRA:  Why not?

WAR GOD:  You lack the flair and experience.  Death is an art.

DEIRDRA:  Ooo, keep talking like that. I'm going to swoon onto this sword.

WAR GOD:  You're so dramatic.

DEIRDRA:  Dramatic like a pretty girl?

WAR GOD:  (Disbelieving)  Did -- did you just fish for a complement?

DEIRDRA:  Maybe.

WAR GOD:  You're about to kill yourself and you want to be complimented?

DEIRDRA:  (Shrugs)  I don't know.  I've never been thought of as pretty.  I figured this was my last chance.

WAR GOD:  (Uncomfortable)  You could be pretty, I suppose.

DEIRDRA:  Aww, thank you!

WAR GOD:  If you were screaming.

DEIRDRA:  Uh huh.

WAR GOD: And you were covered in blood.

DEIRDRA:  Oh.

WAR GOD:  And your head was chopped off.

DEIRDRA:  Umm, that's excessive.

WAR GOD:  And maybe if --

DEIRDRA:  Okay, stop.  Just stop.  You're making it worse again.

WAR GOD:  You're the one looking for complements from a murderer.

DEIRDRA:  I thought we shared something.  I bit your guard --

GUARD:  It still hurts!

DEIRDRA:  -- And you bowed to me.

WAR GOD:  Momentary lapse of insanity.

DEIRDRA:  You are impossible.  Well, good-bye then.  I've been waiting my whole life for this.  (Stabs herself)  Ah!  Oooh!  It burns so good!

WAR GOD:  (Walks over and snatches the sword away)  Give me this!  You imbecile.  You are nowhere near your heart.

DEIRDRA:  (Glares)  Really?  You couldn't let me enjoy this for a moment?

WAR GOD:  Not when you're ruining my sacrifice, no.  You've bled on my blade.

DEIRDRA:  (Grins)  So it counts?

WAR GOD:  No!  You're not even dying.

DEIRDRA:  (Looks down)  But it hurts.  I'm bleeding and stuff.

WAR GOD:  (Peers at her)  You nicked a rib.

DEIRDRA:  Are you sure?

WAR GOD:  I know my torture.

DEIRDRA:  Figures.  I can't even murder myself properly.

WAR GOD:  Some things really should be left to the professionals.

DEIRDRA:  You know you could always finish the job.

WAR GOD:  No.  I hate you.

DEIRDRA:  Perfect!  It'll be a crime of passion.

WAR GOD:   No.

DEIRDRA:  Why not?

WAR: Because then you would win.

DEIRDRA:  Win?

WAR GOD:  Yes.

DEIRDRA:  You think this is a game?

WAR GOD:  Of course it's a game!  And I always win.  Always.

DEIRDRA:  You know my blood's on your sword.

WAR GOD:  Minor technicality.

DEIRDRA:  But it bothers you.  So that means I'm somehow winning.

WAR GOD:  Ha!  My only concern is that your craziness might be catching.  Wouldn't want to stab the next person and have them in ecstacy.

PART ONE   

  I woke up like a Disney princess.  Probably.  I imagined that I looked all adorable and sleep rumpled.  I ran my hand through my luxurious black hair.  Scratch that.  My hair felt coated in motor oil and I smelled like McDonalds.  Gross.  I must resemble the Kraken right now.  
     "Thank Odin you are awake.  We need to leave.  Now."
     Who dared to invade on my morning monologue?  I didn't remember that voice.  It was deep and smooth, like melted dark chocolate.  Dang it, now I was hungry!  
     I cracked open an eye and surveyed the invader.  He stood at the end of the bed adjacent to mine, zipping a black suitcase closed.  He looked in his mid 20s.  He was of average height and build.  He had toffee coloured hair and a short beard. His eyes were small and his face was unremarkable.  Nope, I didn't know him.
     My eyes zipped around the room.  A quaint little motel room, eh?  Hideous faded green and tan motif.  It wasn't familiar either.  Huh.  Why couldn't I remember how I got here?
     "Go away," I muttered into the pillow.  I was so not ready to deal with anything yet today.  I needed a good half hour before I was fully awake.
     He cruelly yanked the blankets off of me.  My warmth and body stank escaped into the wild like gleeful wildebeests.  That jerk!  I farted loudly just to spite him.
     "Get up," he ordered.
     "Dude, I don't know you.  Screw off."
     "Bentley --"
     "Who the heck is Bentley?"
     "How much do you remember?"
     What an odd question.  Was this a one night stand that went south or something? Last night I ... Dang it!  Why couldn't I remember last night at all?  
     Okay, let's try daytime.  I ... Nope, nothing.  This was concerning.  My memory was suddenly like dealing with the DMV.
     Let's try an easy one: my birthday.  The world was graced with my presence on ... This was seriously not cool.  I winced and tried to think of my name.
     Screw this.  I glared at the guy.  "What did you do to me?"
     "How much do you remember?" he repeated.
     "How did you wipe my memory?"
     "Bentley please --"
     "Who is Bentley?!" 
     "This is worse than I thought.  According to the state of Texas you are Bentley." He turned to a second suitcase and rummaged through it.  He tossed me ID.
     A passport and a driver's license: yup, that lovely mug was mine.  There was my glowing flawless skin, my cascading black hair, my icy blue eyes.  Complete perfection; except for that irritating twisted right tooth.  I was still figuring out how to turn that into a trademark.
     I scanned lower.  Bentley G. Eliott, born April 23, 1999.  I gasped.  I wasn't legal drinking age yet?  The gods were so cruel!  I tossed them aside in disgust.
     I glared at the man again.  "What is this?  Are you trying to kidnap me or something?  I promise my next fart will smell like dead gopher and sulfur."
     "You are disgusting."
     "Yeah, think about that the next time you rape me."
     His facial expression reminded me of a scandalized virgin.  "I have never raped you."
     "How would I know?"
     "I just saved your life."
     "Who said I needed saving?"
     "Look at your thighs," he ordered.
     I looked down.  My toned body was clad in an adorable lilac tank top and booty shorts.  I sucked in a breath when I saw the five angry slashes that marred my thighs. Oh, so not cool!  "What happened to me?"
     "I saved you."
     "Who did this?"
     "Dangerous evil people.  We need to leave before they arrive."
     "Why would they freakin' mess with my ability to wear a bikini?"
     "I do not know."
     "Man!  I'm going to kill those asshats!"
     "Please wait until you are PMSing."
     His humour caught me completely off guard.  I snorted.  And possibly peed myself a little.  "You know Willis, you're okay."
     This was a lot to take in first thing in the morning.  It seemed like a good idea to pretend that the horrific bits hadn't happened; it's not like I could remember them.  When in doubt deny, deny, deny.
     He furrowed his non descript eyebrows  in confusion.  They were non descript because I was terrible at describing eyebrows.  "My name is not Willis."
     "Well I have to call you something, don't I?  Or would you prefer to be 'That Guy'?  Because a lot of guys want to be 'That Guy'."
     "I feel that you do not value silence."
     "You're right.  Are you regretting saving me?"
     "A little," he admitted.  I admired his honesty.
     "So where are we going?"
     "Away from the evil people."
     "Excellent!  I need clean clothes, a shower, a razor, a hairbrush, some smoothing oil, a hairdryer, moisturizer, foundation, a bit of blush, eye shadow, eye-liner and mascara.  Oh, and deodorant!  Something moisturizing."
     He considered this.  Then he glared at me.  I finally noticed that his tiny eyes were a honey hazel colour.  "You have five minutes with whatever is in the bathroom.  Go."
     I laughed.  "You're hilarious!"
     A frown complemented his glare.  "I am not joking."
     I frowned delicately.  "Willis, I don't appreciate this."
     "Do you appreciate smooth skin?"
     "Oh yes!"
     "Then I suggest that you hurry.  When they arrive they will complete what they began."
     "But how am I supposed to leave looking like THIS?" I shrieked.
     He tightened his jaw.  It had a lovely defining effect.  "You throw your hair into a ponytail, you put a scarf over your head and you walk out the door."
     I widened my eyes.  "But people are going to see me!"  Did he seriously expect me to wander about looking like a deranged homeless person?
     "Do you know these people?"
     "No," I admitted.  "But it still matters."
     "Does it matter more than perfect skin?"
     He had me there.  Make-up could only do so much when you were carved up like a Christmas roast.  Dang it, I really had to stop with the food analogies!  I was ravenous.
     I gave him one of those 'have pity on me because I'm adorable' looks.  "Let's make a deal: I'll be ready in ten minutes if you'll buy me a big order of chicken Fettuccini Alfredo."
     He didn't even hesitate.  "Agreed."
     My stomach hurrahed!  The rest of me felt like he was winning too easily.  I gave him a squinty stare.  "You can't be Willis anymore.  You're too tricky."
     "You are wasting your ten minutes," he reminded me.
     Shoot!  I jumped up and beelined for the bathroom.  But the motel room decided to be an arsehole and it wobbled and swan.  I leaned against the wall.  "You never told me what you did to me," I accused.
     "I brought you here to recuperate."
     "Why do I feel funny?"
     "You were in a coma for three days."
     "It didn't occur to you to wake me up and make me eat?"
     "I do not think you understand what a coma is."
     "Hey buddy, I'm not the one who didn't feed me."
     "No, you were," he contradicted.
     "Whatever.  It's your fault.  Get over here and help me to the bathroom."
     He sighed and wandered over like a reluctant child.  He scooped me up easily.  Whoa, I was impressed!  He had to be hiding serious muscle under than baggy white shirt.  "I am dropping you on the counter.  You will have nine minutes."
     "And then we can drive away and keep our pretty faces!" I mocked.  "Well, my pretty face.  You'll still have your beard, and stuff."
     "What is wrong with my beard?"
     "Absolutely nothing!  It's your best feature.  It's everything else that's ..." I trailed off so he could fill in the blank.
     He stared at me stonily as we entered the bathroom.  "You are what is wrong with humanity."
     I nodded sagely.  "Am I inspiring you to never help anyone ever again?"
     "Yes."
     "Then your morals weren't very strong to begin with.  Ooooo, toiletries!"
     True to his word, he dropped me roughly on the counter and padded out like a pissed off cat.  My tailbone yelled at me. "Jerk face!" I called after him.  Attempting to block out the pain I turned my attention to the lovelies: shampoo, silky conditioner, moisturizer.  I swooned over the hair dryer.  It was my lucky day!
     I dived into the bliss that was the hair wash.  I even hummed a swanky little swing tune.
     Six minutes later I toweled off and reached for the hair dryer.  And the hair brush was -- Where was the freaking hair brush?  This couldn't be happening!  Big bad guys were hypothetically closing in, I had three minutes left (I would be fighting him on that one), and there wasn't a freaking hair brush in sight?
     "Willis!" I screamed desperately.  "Big trouble!  Help!"
     He flew through the door like a coked out Superman.  He was crazy-eyed with concern.  "Where are they?"
     "Willis, there's no hair brush!" I screeched.
     His jaw clenched so tightly I thought his teeth might crack.  His eyes narrowed to tiny lasers of fury.  "You called me because of a hair brush?"  The words barely escaped through his gritted teeth.
     "This is a catastrophe!" I reminded him.  "I can't leave without brushing my hair!  It's a simple concept."
     A growl rumbled his chest.  "War is a catastrophe.  Getting your face cut off is a catastrophe.  Whining about messy hair makes you a shallow, frivolous, small minded THING."
     Whoa!  He was getting totally out of hand.  That was just mean.
     A tearing sound caught my attention.  He was growing.  And growing.  His clothes fell to the ground.  His beard and hair thickened and raced down his body like ivy.  A tufted tail sprang from his ass.  Two gigantic wings with rust coloured feathers burst from his back.  Within seconds a huge fearsome lion stood a foot from me.
     I may have sharted in the sink.
     There was murder in its huge honey hazel eyes.
     I tore the hair dryer from the wall, hurled it at the lion and burst into panicked tears.
     Bentley, calm down.
     "Willis, get the hell out of my head!  A lion's about to eat me!" I blubbered.
     Bentley, I AM the lion.
     "I -- What!?  THIS is how you planned to kill me?"  I cried harder.  This was so freaking bad!  People weren't supposed to turn into lions.  And this wasn't how I was supposed to die, dang it!  I was supposed to die epically.  Like from a drug overdose after my booty became famous from a music video.
     I curled up into a ball and hyperventilated.
     No one is getting killed.
     Why was Willis' voice in my head?  One insane event was enough.  Was I going crazy?  I tried to speak around my sobs.  "But -- you're -- a lion!  They need -- food!"
     You are not food.  Please stop crying.  You are embarrassing yourself.
     "Now -- you think -- I'm ugly -- and -- stupid!" I wailed.
     You can correct that by calming down.
     "Hey!  I'm having -- a -- mental breakdown!"  Breathing was very difficult.
     The lion huffed.  You will not be finished anytime soon,  will you?
     "No, just go away!"
     A Willis who could turn into a dangerous beast and break into my thoughts was worse than a nightmare.  Willises were supposed to be quiet and unassuming.  I really had to find out this freak's name.  Wait.  Finding out his name would make him an acquaintance.  I didn't want that.  I needed to escape him.  I needed to be a stealthy ninja.  Or like a tiny field mouse.  Those bastards could go anywhere.  Damn it, I needed to breathe first!  My vision bleached to white.
     "I'm going to faint," I whispered.
     That generally happens the first time, he agreed.
     "Get out of my freaking head!"  I tumbled into darkness.

     ~~~