Vandal of New York by Travis Koneschik
I was born on Earth as Evan McCormick, but I do not think I would even answer to that name if I
heard it. I have not heard that name in ten years. Not since I was brought to the Bramble. Ten years
ago, I woke up to the sound of tinny clanging on bars. A hunched green creature was running a mangled
bone along the rusty bars of a cage.
“Prepare the gruel for Master Tep,” he yelled in a horrible gravelly screech, “or I’ll grind your
bones for bread!” I took to calling him and creatures like him trolls.
He popped the lock with a clunking sound, then pulled me out of the cage by the arm. Although
he was small, he had great strength, and I could not resist his force.
For a year, I prepared the gruel for Master Tep. This world was strange. Monsters, magic, and
tales of warriors filled my senses.
Then the day came when I prepared the gruel for Master Tep, but it was not his usual fare.
Apparently, troll tastes similar to the traditional gribblesnort to which Master Tep was accustomed. The
bones of trolls make a rich base for a stew. I escaped.
I grew in strength. I acquired a bow and a sword. I became quite good. I took jobs for elves and
fairies. My fame spread, and my fortune grew. I adopted a new name: Vandal.
With my wealth and reputation, I searched for a way home, back to Earth. For nine more years I
searched. The entire populace of the Bramble was in agreement. Only one being had enough power to
open portals to other realms: Master Tep.
At last, Master Tep would make amends for my thousand grievances against him. I stormed into
his keep, eliminating the trolls that flooded the corridors. My skill far outmatched anyone or anything in
his castle. When I made it to his throne room, he smiled.
“Ah, the pink flesh thing returns,” Master Tep chuckled. “You were a good slave, and your troll
stew was…to die for.” At those words, he raised a glowing hand and a ghostly black mist filled the room.
I lost him to my sight, but I immediately shot three arrows at where he had been standing.
A chilling voice filled the dark chamber. “I have desired a place on the royal council for
millennia. But I am not of royal blood, and no princess will have me!” A blast of cold air rushed through
my bones. “I have even threatened the royal council with my great power, but their enchantments and
spells have kept my threats at bay!” I thought I saw his wispy figure in the corner of my eye, but he was
nowhere in an instant. “I will never rule the Bramble!”
“Send me back to Earth, you monster!” I yelled, sword drawn, swinging at the black clouds.
“Earth?” he laughed with disgust. “You wish to return to Earth? I will grant your wish! I will
bring you back to an Earth ruled by Master Tep!”
I swung my sword and caught the fabric of his robe.
“I will never call you ‘Master’ again.”
A swirl of dark clouds and green lightning surrounded me, and I felt Tep’s fingers wrap around
my ankle. My flesh felt seared by a fiery brand. He pulled me into the portal with him. Then everything
went black.
I awoke in a hotel room in New York City on New Year’s Eve. The room was horribly dusty, with
cobwebs coating the walls and corners. My mind began racing. Ten years, I’ve been gone. Ten years.
My body was as stiff as it had ever been, and I felt like I had to crack every bone to regain movement. I
took a closer look and realized: this room, untouched, was my last memory of Earth. Before I was taken.
Before I became Vandal.
Vandal of New York by Travis Koneschik
I was still wearing my armor, and I still had my bow and sword. These objects were so very
mundane in the Bramble, but here—home—I was suddenly an outsider. A dangerous outsider.
The television set popped to life. It had been ten years since I had seen a television, and the
sight surprised me, just like magic the first time I saw it. But now, this technology was so foreign to me.
I was suddenly frightened of being on Earth again.
“Good evening, America,” a news lady chimed. “New York City is turning out to have a lot more
excitement than originally planned this New Year’s Eve. We are receiving reports that President Briggs’s
daughter, Rachel Briggs, has been kidnapped, and her kidnapper has her held somewhere in New York
City. His message to the President indicated that he would contact news stations with his demands
within the next hour. He signed his message as Master Tep. We do not know if Master Tep is an
individual or a terrorist organiza—“
I punched my armored fist through the television screen, cutting off the news reporter. My rage
became another being in the room, and our brawl had begun.
This is what Tep meant, you fool!
Tep is more powerful than any human, and he can withstand all the force they can muster.
They have no idea of what he is capable.
They cannot stop him.
Only I can stop him!
I need a cool head.
I must be the one to find him.
And so it was decided. I removed my armor and my weapons. My memories were returning,
and I knew enough about New York City to know that I would get nowhere with my bow and sword. I
checked the dresser in the hotel room. An old T-shirt and jeans were folded. The clothes were stiff and
dusty. I had to remember: my old T-shirt and jeans. As I dressed, I felt like I was putting on another
man’s clothes.
I regretted my hunt for revenge immediately. Not only have I endangered this city and this
country, but I deserted a place where I was comfortable. The Bramble had become a home to me, and I
did not realize it until I was gone.
No time to dwell, I told myself. The Bramble is safe from Tep’s mad schemes, and now my Earth
is in danger. I put on the coat hanging in the closet and grabbed the wallet from the night stand. I
looked at the driver’s license and compared it to the date on the newspaper by the door. Expired by
eight years. I took a last look at my weapons as they lay on the bed, then closed the door behind me.
The rest of the hotel was pristine and shiny. Only my room had been kept untouched. A crowd
had gathered in the lobby downstairs (I didn’t dare use the elevator) by the television. No one was
watching the concerts and stars. All eyes were glued to the news stations covering the kidnapping of
the president’s daughter. This is what Tep wants, I knew. A crowd. It’s New Year’s Eve. Where would
everyone be? I knew instantly. No time away from New York could make me forget. I knew with no
question in my mind: Tep was somewhere in Times Square.
It took too long to make it to Times Square from my hotel. The memories were rushing back
now. I used some of the cash in my wallet to hail a cab. The streets were so full of people and the lights
were so bright, I was glad to have a moment to myself. The cab driver stopped about half a mile away
from Times Square, saying he couldn’t take me any closer. I got out and pressed my way in.
Vandal of New York by Travis Koneschik
As I pushed and squeezed through the people and the back alleys, I wondered about his plan.
What could he possibly be thinking? Why the president’s daughter? Why not hold the president
himself hostage?
All at once, the crowd hushed. The quiet was surreal after the crushing noise of the street a
moment before. It was like a spirit of silence possessed and passed over the million people of New York
City in an instant. I looked up, and on a screen sixty feet high, there he was: Tep, with his gaunt face
decorated with golden trimmings and jewels. He grinned a toothy grin. I clenched my fists.
“Happy New Year, America!” He held his arms wide. No one cheered. “I am Master Tep. I
would like to take this opportunity to make a grand announcement. Rachel Briggs has agreed to be my
wife!”
The hush was gone now. America made a collective gasp, and there were outright screams from
the crowds.
“I invite the people of the world to observe our nuptial feast at midnight tonight. We will be
where the world will see. This new year will usher in the reign of President Briggs’s new heir to the
throne, Master Tep!” He laughed a great gallant guffaw, and then the screen cut off. It was black for
only a moment, then quickly filled by the barrage of newscasters.
The people around me were screaming and crying. America’s prized daughter was being forced
to marry a terrorist. The noise and commotion prevented anyone nearby from noticing that I was not
crying. I was laughing. I remembered what Tep had said before bringing us here. I am not of royal
blood, and no princess will have me. I would have laughed longer and louder if the situation were not so
dire.
Tep thought President Briggs was a king, and that his daughter was a princess! He thinks that
marrying her will make him a prince! What a complete fool. His plan, like all his others, would fail. I
thought, at this point, perhaps it was good that this plan was such a flop. If I can prevent this foolish
plan, I won’t have to quell his rage when he learns that he doesn’t inherit the President’s rule.
I was already near Times Square. Now I only had to find Tep and Rachel Briggs. I had only half
an hour before midnight. Where were they? Where was he keeping her? I knew Tep well enough to
know that he had given me clues. He is too pompous. He knows that I am here, and he knows I will try
to stop him.
What had he said? We will be where the world will see. How could the entire world see the
wedding? The wedding will be in a place everyone will be watching already! I used to think that Tep
was clever, but these plans were imbecilic. Tep would be married under the Times Square ball. He
would let the ball drop announce his new status as America’s prince.
I got to the outside of the building. Needless to say, I could not get in. I had not the fame,
influence, or money to earn passage into the building. So instead, I climbed up the side.
Climbing One Times Square is a feat that I had never attempted, and yet, I can never remember
doing anything simpler. The sleek windows fought against my grip, but after ten years in the Bramble, I
was stronger and braver than any man on Earth could be. I got to the top with ten minutes to spare.
Cameras and news crews filled the rooftop, but still there were no police or military. How did
Tep accomplish this? I pressed through the thick crowd, easily moving heavy equipment and people out
of my way. I would not be denied my audience with Tep. When I reached the front of the crowd, I saw
him. He was…just standing there. No one was moving toward him. No one was trying to rescue the girl.
The cameras were poised for the event, and lights were being frantically strung to illuminate the
Vandal of New York by Travis Koneschik
wedding in time. It became painfully obvious to me. They were under his spell. More interested in the
spectacle than in its implications. I could stand it no longer.
“TEP!” I called, my voice rising over the clamor and sparking Tep’s interest.
Tep slowly turned around, clutching the arm of Rachel Briggs in his long-nailed fingers, and
responded after a pause, “…That’s ‘Master’ Tep to you, flesh thing.” He had bile in his words.
The cameras turned on. I could hear Tep’s voice echoing from the street below. The world was
watching.
“You have no idea what you are doing here,” I said with a laugh.
“I will join the royal family of Earth, and I will inherit its royal privileges,” Tep responded.
“That is not how America works. You are a great fool.”
I saw a flash of worry go through his eyes. “Tell me then. Enlighten me. How does one rule
America?”
“Firstly,” I said, struggling to remember what I learned twenty years ago in high school, “people
have to like you. People in America choose who makes the laws. They choose someone that they like.
All the people decide together. Then, the person they choose only runs it for a short time. Then they
choose someone else.”
“I could get people to like me!” He screamed suddenly.
“Not like this. Not like this.”
“What if I killed the President? You couldn’t stop me. Who takes his place then?” I could tell
Tep’s mind was wandering down darker tunnels now.
“The vice-President takes his place. He is chosen at the same time as the President.”
“And if he dies? What then?”
“The Speaker of the House.
“And him?”
“The President of the Senate, then the Secretary of State, then—“
“This is ridiculous! Answer me, Vandal, how many people must I kill to be the President of the
United States, so I can rule this pathetic planet of yours?” He lifted Rachel Briggs over the edge of the
building, her legs dangling like a doll. Her shoes dropped to the crowd below. Her wedding dress
billowing in the rough wind. Tep was desperate now. He wouldn’t like this answer.
I spoke quietly. “You would have to kill every other American citizen before you could be
president. By then, there would be no one to rule over. America is nothing without its citizens.” I
hadn’t had the heart to tell him that even after killing every American, he still couldn’t be President,
seeing as he was born in another realm.
Tep looked at the ground for a long time. The world held its breath, wondering whether he
would accept this news, or whether he would destroy Rachel Briggs, along with the rest of us.
As the ball lowered behind him in silence, he pulled the damsel close to his body and placed her
delicately on the roof. At midnight, the ball touched down simultaneously with her bare feet. The
crowd below erupted in cheers and song. Wine and champagne were spilled all over the world. The
cacophony of voices turned into a chorale of “Auld Lang Syne.” The words of that ancient carol were
long gone to me.
“It’s a shame,” Tep said with a sad voice. “In the short time we had, I liked her.” Then he looked
directly into Rachel Briggs’s eyes. “I would stay, but you aren’t worth the punishment of staying on this
worthless planet.”
Vandal of New York by Travis Koneschik
With a flick of his long arms, he tore open that all-too-familiar portal of dark clouds and green
lightning. He addressed me. “I am leaving this horrid place. I suppose I owe you for saving me all this
worthless effort. You are welcome to accompany me. We can continue our rivalry in the Bramble, or
you can remain here and leave my reign uncontested. What is your choice?”
I looked around at the cameras, the lights, the buildings, the roads, the cars. I felt sad. Sad,
because I didn’t miss any of it. I didn’t long for anything here. I had been gone for ten years, and this
driving force, returning to Earth, had left me wanting. I thirsted to be back in the Bramble with a bow
and sword, thwarting evil magicians and defending elves and fairies from armies of trolls. I hated to
admit, to Tep of all people, that I needed him.
“I will return to the Bramble with you,” I said calmly. “Earth has lost some of its flavor, and the
Bramble is richer than ever.”
He grabbed my arm, and I welcomed the searing pain where his hand touched my skin.