Judgement of Loce

Judgment of Locke: Chapter 1

Locke fell out of bed seconds before his alarm went off, drenched in a cold sweat. Last night he'd had an especially vivid dream. A weird night about being chased by three wolves through a dark forest, only to run off a cliff and plunge towards the ground below. He groaned, fumbling for his phone on the nightstand to turn off the wailing alarm. The thing he was most looking forward to about graduation was finally being able to sleep in all he wanted.

But that was still five weeks away, and in the meantime, he needed to get through prom.

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Locke squinted at the screen of his phone to check for messages. Nothing. No miraculous prom date had materialized overnight. He'd hoped maybe Alice might have sent him a message. They were best friends, after all, and he knew she still didn't have a date. Maybe she was waiting for him to ask her? With a sigh, he dragged himself out of bed.

The floorboards creaked as he shuffled to the bathroom. He could hear the shower going and sighed; it wouldn't be his brother Mark. Even if it was his weekly shower, it wouldn't be this early in the morning. Grace then. Back home from college for her spring break.

Grumbling, Locke headed downstairs. The house was quiet except for the coffee maker's gurgle and his father's muffled voice on a work call.

In the kitchen, his mother, Gloria, stood at the counter, packing lunches. "Morning, sweetie," she said. "There's cereal on the table."

Locke grunted in response, pouring himself a bowl. He glanced at the ceiling, hearing a high-pitched woman's voice faintly screaming; one of the streamers Mark loved watching, doing a horror game playthrough from the sound of it.

"Is he ever going to get a job?" Locke muttered.

His mother sighed. "We're working on it. How about you? Any luck with prom?"

Locke took a bite of his cereal, "No one goes to prom these days."

"You should," a muffled voice called out from behind him. "I mean, high school is stupid, but these are the fun parts."

Locke turned to find his sister Grace, a tall, pretty young woman with long legs and an athletic physique. Much of it was shown off at the moment, as she wore only a towel tied around her body in that unbreakable way women had. She was brushing her teeth as she sat down at the table, and she stopped by the sink to spit.

Their mother looked at her in distaste, hands on her hips. "Grace, darling, I am very happy you chose to spend your break with us instead of traveling somewhere unsafe, but do you have to treat my kitchen like a dorm room?"

Their mother was a kind woman who loved her children, but had a strong, stern disciplined side that put her at odds with her daughter. Where Grace was tall and tomboyish, she was a short, redheaded beauty who emphasized ladylike manners.

"We can discuss the house dress code later. Right now we should be bullying Locke into not missing his prom."

Locke scoffed and rolled his eyes at his sister. "What's the big deal anyways?"

His mother let out a small sigh. "Grace does have a point, even if she could express it more delicately." She gave her daughter a pointed look. "Prom is a wonderful tradition. I still have fond memories of mine with your father."

"Ugh, mom, please," Locke groaned, pushing his cereal away. "I don't need to hear about you and dad's super romantic prom night. Or Grace's amazing prom where she probably boned the whole football team."

"Locke!" His mother warned him. Boned wasn't technically a swear, but it was still over the line for the breakfast table. "That's not what I meant and you know it, young man." The slight flush of her cheeks told Locke he was closer to the target than she wanted to admit. Gross. "I'm just saying, you might regret not going. And what about that nice Alice girl? I'm sure she'd love to go with you."

Locke felt his face heat up. "Alice is just a friend, mom. And anyway, she probably doesn't want to go either. I'd feel bad about forcing her." He definitely wasn't being a coward.

"Have you even asked her?" his mother pressed, raising an eyebrow.

Locke mumbled something unintelligible and stared intently at his cereal bowl.

His mother sighed and patted his shoulder. "Just think about it, okay? You still have time." She glanced at the clock. "Now hurry up and finish your breakfast or you'll be late for school."

"I didn't bone anyone until I went to college, I'll have you know," Grace said, nonplussed as she poured a bowl of cereal. "But I did hijack the music with some of my friends so I could dance to 80s music for a while."

Mark joined them at the table next. Tall and handsome, he'd gotten the best combo of their father and mother's looks. But two years after graduating college, he still hadn't moved out. He opened the freezer to take out a small square frozen pizza, popping it into the toaster oven, "Not me. Becky Lane. She was all over me on the dance floor, and we didn't even make it out of the parking lot."

"Mark!" Gloria shrieked at him, scandalized. "Don't set a bad example for your brother. And the girl he has in mind would never behave so crudely."

"There's a girl?" Grace asked, her tone somewhere between teasing and genuine interest. "Tell me about the girl!"

"Locke's got a girl?" Mark scoffed. "Feel sorry for her."

"Don't antagonize your brother," Gloria said, glancing at the clock. "But we can continue this later. Hurry and finish that cereal. You still need to get a shower before leaving."

"I can just put on some deodorant, it's not a big deal." Grace loved her long, hot showers, and Locke hated taking the cold ones he was left with when she was done.

"You still need to shower," Gloria repeated.

Locke sniffed at his armpit and didn't smell anything, but it wasn't an argument he was going to make. "Ugh, yeah. Give me five minutes."

Gloria turned to her other two children, "Can one of you drop him off?"

"Busy," Mark replied immediately.

"I can give him a ride!" Grace said. "I'm just chilling this week."

"You are not leaving the house in a towel," Gloria said, the conversation lost as Locke made his way back upstairs. The water felt pleasantly lukewarm for about thirty seconds before turning to ice, but at least it did a great job of waking him up as he scrubbed off the night sweat. Gritting his teeth, he scrubbed himself hastily, barely bothering to shampoo his hair before rinsing off.

Grabbing a towel, Locke dried himself in record time. He threw on the first clean clothes he could find—a faded band t-shirt and jeans—and ran a comb through his damp hair, straight back where it'd then stick out on its own in what he hoped looked cool.

Locke thundered back down the stairs, snagging his backpack from the hook by the door. "Ready!" he called out, slightly out of breath, slightly cold, and shirt still slightly damp.

He found his sister in a pair of short shorts and a sports bra; the right kind of clothes to go jogging in, but showoffy all the same.

"C'mon. You don't want to be late, right?"

It was only a fifteen minute walk to school, and the drive was short. Grace dropped him off in front of the doors, where his friends Alice and Sun were hanging out.

"You didn't tell me your sister was hot," Sun said as he approached. The Korean American boy wore a beanie over his black hair and a loose fitting polo shirt over his lanky frame.

Alice turned around and slapped his arm. "I thought you'd be late again," she said, adjusting her glasses.

She was a cute, nerdy blonde girl; slightly shy, and imminently capable of being beautiful if she put any effort into herself. They'd known each other since they were kids, having been the subject of rumors that never amounted to anything.

He glared at Sun. "Dude, gross. That's my sister you're talking about. She is definitely not hot."

Sun shrugged, unperturbed. "Whatever you say, man. But objectively speaking..."

"Objectively speaking, you're gonna make me puke," Locke cut him off. He turned to Alice. "And I'm not late, thank you very much. Grace gave me a ride."

Alice raised an eyebrow. "Grace is back from college?"

"Yeah? Spring break. What's the big deal?"

Alice gave him a brief smile, "I dunno, I just figured she would have something better to do than hang around a small town like this."

"I could be so lucky. You two ready for the test?"

Sun groaned dramatically. "Don't remind me."

"Maybe you should've studied instead of playing video games all night," Alice teased, giving Sun a slightly bigger smile than the one she'd given Locke. Did she like him?

"Hey, just investing in my future as a pro gamer, is all."

As his friends bickered, Locke walked behind them into the building, his thoughts drifting back to prom. His mom's words echoed in his head. Maybe he should just bite the bullet and ask Alice. They were best friends, after all. It wouldn't be weird, right? Unless she liked someone else. Or didn't see him as a man. Or... secretly had hated him for years and this was the final straw.

The first bell rang, taking the decision out of his hands. Locke headed to class.

Lost in thought as he was, Locke barely noticed the girl step in front of him. She had long, toned legs, a partially bare midriff, long dark hair, a perfect peaches-and-cream complexion, and perky teardrop breasts barely contained by the cheer uniform she wore. He bowled into her and fell, staring up at her as she smiled down

"You okay, hon?" she asked, extending a hand to help him up.

Locke's mouth opened and closed like a fish out of water as he tried to form words. His face turned bright red, embarrassment rising as he realized he was sitting on his ass in the middle of the hallway.

"I... uh... you... um..." he stammered, avoiding her hand and trying to pick himself up by pushing against a nearby locker. The loud bang drew curious eyes, making his situation even worse. He struggled to his feet like a newborn fawn, but when she reached down to grab his hand, she pulled him up with surprising ease. Cheerleaders were athletes too, he supposed.

"Y-yeah. I'm fine. Sorry," he finally managed to say.

"No worries. I'm pretty hard to bother," she said with a wink, her voice sultry.

Locke noticed her eyes then. At first glance, they seemed brown, but upon closer inspection, they were more vibrant, almost red. She cocked her miniskirt-clad hips and leaned against a locker.

"Locke, right? You're a senior here," she stated rather than asked.

Locke's brow furrowed in confusion. "Uh, yeah... How do you know my name?"

He racked his brain, trying to place her, but came up empty. There was no way he would have forgotten meeting someone who looked like her before.

"Did you need something from me?" he asked, disbelief evident in his voice.

She grinned at him, and for a moment, Locke saw her totally differently. No longer just a dark-haired cheerleader, her skin shifted red to match her eyes, horns growing from her head like a crown, and a pointed tail swishing out from beneath her skirt.

"Oh, I need a lot of things from you," she said. "And I can do a lot for you. I'm really excited to see you around."

Just like that, the illusion vanished. She was a girl again, albeit an incredibly sexy one.

Locke blinked rapidly and rubbed his eyes, wondering if he was still half-asleep. "What... what do you mean by all that? And did I just see...? Hold on, do I even know you?"

"Not yet," she said with a wink. "I'm new in town."

"And what about the... the uh..."

He trailed off, not wanting to sound crazy by mentioning horns and a tail. "Sorry, feeling off today," he apologized again, feeling compelled to do so for wasting the time of someone so pretty.

"Don't worry. You're about to feel way better," the cheerleader said. "But don't let me keep you here. You don't want to be late for class."

With that, she left him, a sway in her hips as she walked away, gradually disappearing among the rest of the student body.

Locke's first class of the day was ancient history, typically taught by a thematically appropriate teacher named Mrs. Moran—a sour, plump, 70-year-old woman who had a habit of droning through her lectures. Instead, he found a completely different teacher sitting at the desk waiting for him.

She was a stunningly beautiful woman with wide hips, huge breasts, and a bun of platinum blonde hair pinned atop her head. It contrasted her olive skin tone but matched her sharp, gold-colored eyes. Her blouse was fully buttoned, and her skirt came down to her shins, but it was no mystery that they hid the kind of body that boys typically only dreamed about.

"You're late," she said evenly. "I was expecting you thirty seconds ago."

The bell hadn't rung yet, and looking around, Locke saw that he was the first student to arrive for class, save for some girl in the back corner. He could pick a seat wherever he liked.

Locke looked back and forth between the new teacher and the lone student in confusion. He pinched himself, wondering if he was still asleep and dreaming.

"Sorry for being late," he mumbled, still disoriented. Was she some kind of substitute teacher? Why the hell would someone who looked like her being a substitute though? He took his seat in the middle of the classroom, then rummaged into his backpack for his history book.

"Really? Sorry for being late? Is that all you have to say when you show up and your teacher looks like a goddess out of nowhere?" a voice called from the back. "This one's not real curious, is he?"

For the third time that morning, Locke found himself confronted with a beautiful girl he'd never seen before. This one, like the cheerleader, was his own age. She wore a skintight pair of leather shorts and what looked like a latex bra completely uncovered by the small leather half-jacket. The heavy makeup, spiked collar, fishnets, and purple dye mixed with her natural blonde hair made her look like some kind of chaotic mix between a goth and a biker.

Locke looked back at her with a mixture of confusion and curiosity. What was going on with all these strange women suddenly appearing? First the impossibly hot cheerleader—come to think of it, the uniforms they wore were one pieces, so was she even really a cheerleader?—now this intimidating goth/biker chick and the supermodel teacher. He felt like he was in some kind of bizarre dream.

"Quiet," the new teacher said sternly. "You say too much."

Her voice softened. "Besides, most people do see what they want to. And you, you'll be sitting up here at the front from now on." She motioned to a desk near the front of the class.

Shaking his head, Locke moved to sit at the desk the teacher had indicated near the front of the class. As he settled into his seat, he couldn't help stealing glances at the statuesque blonde. Up close, she was even more striking—flawless skin, full lips, eyes like liquid gold. He quickly looked away when she caught him staring.

Something was going on, but for the life of him Locke couldn't figure out what. Why would they be interested in a nobody like him?

As the bell rang, that impossibly hot cheerleader walked in then, dropping a purse on the desk next to Locke's before sitting down next to him.

"Sorry I'm running late," she said. "Have you all told him yet?"

"You'd think he'd have figured out that we're the only ones in this class," the goth added as she came to the front of the class, taking a seat on Locke's other side.

The teacher sighed, placing her arms on either side of her.

"We have not," she said. "And I'd thank you to not to get ahead of yourselves."

The cheerleader rolled her eyes.

"He obviously knows something's up now," she said. Even a wimp like Locke could get annoyed when the three of them were talking about him like he wasn't even there. He opened his mouth, intending to demand they tell him what was going on, but then the cheerleader put her hand to his thigh and he decided he was rather okay with this situation. "Let's just tell the poor little mortal."

"Um, could someone please explain...?" he mumbled, his voice trailing off weakly. "I don't really understand why, uh... why you're talking to me. About me? Or where the other students are. Are you filming something for a show or...?"

The goth girl snorted a laugh at that, "Y'know that's not far off."

"This one is so cute, not knowing where to look," the cheerleader said.

She shifted then, her skin turning red, the tail growing out, her outfit getting skimpier, the skirt looking more like a belt now. The teacher changed as well, her sensible outfit changing into a pure white dress decorated with gold, the top so loose her breasts looked like they'd fall out any second. Her hair changed from platinum blonde to shimmering silver, freeing itself from the bun to flow all the way to her upper thigh. The only one who didn't change was the goth girl, who seemed unimpressed by the transformation of the other two.

Surrounded by all three, Locke leaned back into his seat as the supernatural being that had been pretending to be a teacher looked down at him imperiously. "Mortal, you have been chosen. You now represent the world and all its people, and your judgment will decide its fate for the eternity to come."

"It's a game we play every time a world gets advanced enough that it's worth controlling," the cheerleader devil said. "You're going to choose who ends up in charge here."

"Might sound scary, but trust me, kid. You hit the jackpot of all jackpots," the unchanged biker goth assured him.

Locke's face went pale as he looked back and forth between the three otherworldly beings. His mind reeled, trying to make sense of what he was seeing and hearing. This couldn't be real. He must be going crazy or having some kind of psychotic break.

"Why... why me?" he finally managed to stammer out. "I'm nobody special. There's got to be someone better suited for this. And how do I even know this is real? Maybe I'm just losing my mind."

The cold sweat from this morning was back, that feeling of dread. And arousal. He was an 18 year old boy at the center of attention from the three sexiest women he'd ever seen, horns or no. But the strongest feeling right now was his own self-loathing and insecurity. It had to be some mistake. He was hardly the best person for the job in his grade, let alone the world. "Let's say for a moment I believe you. Why would you pick some random high school kid for something this important? And what exactly am I supposed to do?"

"You are an utterly insignificant mortal," The former teacher said, "And that is exactly why you were chosen."

"We had a lottery," The goth girl corrected. "All men, over 18, who aren't powerful or important."

"That part was her idea," The teacher said, "I'd have chosen from the kings of men."

"Ladies, where are your manners?" the devil purred. "You haven't even introduced yourselves. I am Lucifer. But you can call me Lucy when I'm in my human facing form."

The goddess clicked her tongue in annoyance, glancing towards Lucy, then back to Locke. "I have many names, but I've been known most as Jehovah. In public, you may refer to me as Ms. Ella Hym."

"Chaos. Sup." The goth girl said. "Still haven't picked a human name, but I'll get around to it eventually."

Locke's head was spinning as he tried to process what they were telling him. Lucifer? Jehovah? Chaos? This had to be some kind of elaborate prank. But those transformations...

He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. "So let me get this straight. You're saying you're actually god, the devil, and... uh, Chaos." The biker gave him a wink and a finger gun. "...and you chose me through some kind of cosmic lottery to judge a contest between the three of you? To determine who rules the world?"

It sounded insane when he said it out loud. Part of him wanted to laugh hysterically, another part wanted to run screaming from the room. But mostly he felt completely overwhelmed and out of his depth. And part of him actually felt relieved that it had all been down to luck. Knowing that they expected so little from him was a load off his back. Almost enough for him to relax. And with it all being so surreal, his body couldn't bring itself to freak out.