Cardinal Rules

By Brady Phoenix

The end of May approaches, and college is done for the spring semester. Professors prepare for their summer courses while students go home to their families for a much-needed break. Everybody except for DJ, who decides to stay behind and reflect on his damaged history with his abusive father and the recent loss of his mother. It wasn't until his very close friend Aurora invites him to go with her for a getaway at her hometown's gay pride party to live it up for the weekend. With reluctance towards the LGBTQ+ community, he decides to go. He invites his sister, Sierra, along with her friends, Greg and Justin to join them for a fun-filled weekend that they would never forget.

 

At first, DJ has a great time making new friends and getting involved with a community that he was apprehensive about being a part of since he began living fully as his authentic self. His adventures were quickly soiled by a stalker lurking around to torment him. It's not just any old stalker.

 

It's a cardinal!

 

One by one, patrons go missing at the hands of the deranged killer. Can DJ save himself and his acquaintances before the masked cardinal takes their lives? Will this pride be canceled from all of the mysterious murders?

 

Cardinal Rules is a twist between '80s and '90s slasher horror and the LGBTQ+ community, filled with blood, gore, and a little glitter. It's time to put pride back in murder!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brady Phoenix
• Release date: Mar 12, 2021
• ISBN: 9781736239414

Book preview

This book is dedicated to all siblings of LGBTQIA+ members of the community. Thank you to all of those who made the selfless choice to unconditionally love their family for who they truly are, no matter what struggles they go through as a family. Words cannot express the gratitude for you.

Success is to be measured not so much by the position that one has reached in life as by the obstacles which he has overcome.

-Booker T. Washington

June 2004

The sun was starting to set over the swing set in Carroway Park where two girls in yellow dresses were swaying in unison, competing to see who could go the highest before launching off onto the hot, gritty sand. Laughter filled the air with the girls' joy, as the fresh wind blew their primly braided hair from the downswing of the exciting ride. The orange and blue lights from the sun reflected over the metal slide. Down slid a little boy in a powder blue shirt, both in excitement and pain as the heat of the hot, humid day made the metal uncomfortable on his behind. He further observed his surroundings once he gathered his bearings, looked beyond the playground, and noticed a group of ten or so kids out on the open patch of grass, playing a round of red rover by the soccer goalposts.

It's getting dark out, let's play 'ghost in the graveyard'! said one of the kids, interested in changing things up.

Can I join you guys? asked the little boy nervously, so he could play with the kids as he pinched his forearm, trying to contain his nervous energy.

Get lost, fairy! screamed one of the boys in the group, cracking his knuckles as if he were ready to beat the kid up if he stepped any closer.

Go home, queer! chimed in one of the girls aggressively.

Why won't you let me play? said the little boy in the blue shirt, looking crushed by the harsh words and evil glares from the rejecting group of kids.

Because we don't let boys like you play with us, replied one of the children, stepping closer to the boy, looking as though he was about to swing at him.

Embarrassed by the group's rejection, the boy starts walking away from the group, with his head down, dragging his feet across the green grass. The sun began to set further into the horizon. Drops of water start to fall onto the hot sidewalk, as tears shed from the boy's eyes. He could not wait to get home to his father. It seemed like no matter how bad his day went, his dad would always be there to save him from his emotional turmoil.

There was one time the little boy remembered well, when he was picked up from detention for fighting with one of the boys in the hallway that found a Barbie doll in his locker. The little boy was shoved into a locker by the bully numerous times until one of the teachers stopped him. The bully got away with no punishment, but the boy wrongfully received detention after school for starting the fight. His father then picked him up from school in his grey Cadillac, wearing a blue plaid button-down shirt with khaki pants. His black sunglasses were shining in the daylight with his auburn brown, faded haircut slicked back with greasy hair gel.

Get in, commanded the father to his son as he shamefully stood on the curbside, ready to go home.

The entire drive home was so quiet; you could audibly hear a millipede tap dancing. Neither one exchanged words for most of the ride home. About a block or so from their house, his father pulled over, looking to his somber son, who just stared vacantly out the window.

I know it's not your fault, said his father calmly as he placed his hand on his son’s shoulder.

The little boy still looked out the window as if he ignored him, remaining defeated.

I know how it feels to be different, he continued. Just know that no matter what you do with your life, I will always love you for who you are.

The boy turned to look at his father and started to cry, feeling overwhelmed and overcome with relief.

You will always be my buddy, his father concluded, as he wiped the tear that ran down his cheek. I have something for you.

He reached for a box safely sitting on the passenger seat, causing the little boy to perk up with energy, feeling excited that he was about to receive a gift. His father was so great at giving gifts; he was the one that gave him the Barbie doll that got him in detention earlier that day.

The boy opened the box and took out a stuffed animal. A stuffed bird with a vibrant red coloration from head to toe, containing a little spot of black right on its beak and chest area and a gradient towards black button eyes. The boy became enthusiastic about having received such a beautiful bird as a present.

Thank you, Daddy! shouted the little boy as he embraced the stuffed animal with excitement.

Now, son...if you ever feel alone, or that nobody ever understands you, just look at this bird and know that I will always be there for you, even when times are tough. All you have to do is think like a bird and rise above, explained his father, motivating him to remain tough during his future endeavors.

The two of them resumed the drive home, and the boy felt like he gained a new friend, buckling the stuffed cardinal in the seat next to him.

The boy in blue dragged his feet on the paved sidewalk as the sun disappeared, following the streetlights one after another, block by block until he reached the white picket fence surrounding his pristine white house. He walked up the wooden stairs, passing by the green swing attached to a chain that contained a pink and white floral paisley printed cushion. The window was open; he could smell dinner through the screen. The decadent smell of pot roast was just leading him more enthusiastically inside, as it was his favorite meal that his dad would make for the family. He passed through the entry’s brown hardwood floors, over to the dining room table. His mother, wearing her pink polka dot dress with an apron draped over the back of her wooden chair, appeared to be irritated that her dinner for three was getting colder by the minute.

You're late for dinner, son, the mother said coldly as she tapped her blue, pastel shoe on the floor.

I was pla—sorry, Mother; it won't happen again, said the boy as he started to unfold his napkin onto his lap. Where is Dad? Will he be coming home for dinner?

He’s running late from work. He will be here when he can, said his mother as she started to dish the pot roast and roasted potatoes onto his plate.

The two started consuming their meal, not exchanging any conversation as tension overpowered the air.

Dad has been late for dinner a lot lately, said the boy as he buttered his dinner roll. Is he okay?

Everything is fine, replied his mother in a cold monotone as she poked her fork onto her steamed carrots. He should be home any minute.

The two continued to eat their pot roast bite by bite until they both finished their meal, with no sign of his arrival.

With apprehension, the boy asked if his mother could excuse him from the table. Still, with the disappointed look on her face, his mother gave the nod, signaling him to wash his hands.

Go to your room, and do your reading when you finish washing up, his mother requested.

Is Dad going to read to me when he gets home? replied the boy with apprehension.

His mother, looking even more irritated than before but in the same tone, responded with, He will be home any minute. He can read to you then.

The boy, sensing her frustration, started to walk faster toward the wooden staircase, ascending toward the second level to his bedroom door. About an hour went by as the boy read his mother’s fashion magazine, instead of his Hardy Boys books laying neatly on his bedroom floor that his mother had directed him to read every day. The tree branches started to scratch at the windowsill as the wind began to pick up while the night sky got darker with clouds. It looked like a storm was vastly approaching. The floorboards were beginning to creak, as he could sense that footsteps were approaching closer to his bedroom door. He quickly stuffed the magazine between his mattress and box spring and draped his bed sheet over the crease to conceal it. There was a knock on his door. With excitement, the boy thought that his father had finally made it home to read with him. The door opened, and the boy's face suddenly removed its excitement, as he saw the silhouette of his mother entering the room.

Are you getting ready for bed? asked his mother.

Yes, Mother. Has Dad come home? answered the little boy.

I'm afraid your father is not home yet. his mother responded with her cold and shrill voice. Off to bed now.

I want Dad to tuck me in. Can I please wait for him? Is he coming home soon?

GO TO BED NOW! YOUR FATHER IS NOT COMING HOME! yelled his mother, completely upset for having to repeat herself.

The little boy, now scared from the outburst, retreated onto his bed. Yes, Mother.

That's a good boy, went the mother as she started to lower her tone back into her calm self. She shut off the light and started to close the door. Goodnight, son. Mommy loves you.

Intimidated by his mother's authoritative demeanor, the little boy tucked himself into his baby blue bedsheets, grabbed his stuffed cardinal, and started to doze off into his dreams.

Later that night, a storm began to erupt as the high winds were picking up, forcing the tree branches to scratch against the boy's bedroom window. Raindrops pounded on the side of the house like coins falling to a hard, cement floor. Without warning, a flash of lightning accompanied by a loud burst of thunder, as if a cannon went off, startled the little boy out of his dreamlike trance. The boy, tired from being in a deep slumber, shook off his 'half-asleep' physicality, as he became scared from the monstrous thunderstorm. He felt thirsty and decided to get up from his bed to head downstairs into the kitchen for a glass of water. The boy grabbed his stuffed cardinal, clenching it safely as he made his way slowly to the door. He entered the hallway, hearing another burst of thunder as it shook the empty and dark corridor.

Scared that he would wake his mother, he tiptoed gingerly down the hardwood hallway. He stepped on a loose floorboard, causing a loud and interrupting creaking sound. The boy abruptly paused and looked around to see if he disturbed anything.

Nothing.

Step by step, the child descended the staircase at a glacial pace, making sure the wooden floor didn't make another creaking sound, blowing his cover. He reached the bottom of the stairs, faced the main door, and turned right into the dining room. Another burst of thunder shook the antique chandelier hanging in the ceiling, causing the dangling little crystals to start chiming in unison. The boy reached the entryway into the kitchen, and suddenly, there was a knocking noise on one of the dining room windows immediately distracting him.

The child quickly turned his head and was now more scared than ever, noticing that it was just one of the branches thumping on the windowsill. Afraid and eager, the boy was no longer being quiet. He just wanted to get his glass of water and go back into his room where he felt the safest. Still facing the window, he took a few steps back and felt something stopping him from continuing to go backward. It felt as if he was going into the wall by mistake. The boy wished he walked into the wall as he turned around and noticed a man with an auburn, faded haircut with greasy hair gel looking at him as if he saw a ghost.

It was his father.

He was initially happy to see his father come home after waiting all day for him. But then he looked up at the pale, vacant, and expressionless figure, noticing the purple plaid shirt that looked so nice this morning was covered in holes surrounded by a dark, red liquid. It was blood. The boy was terrified as his father fell to his knees before collapsing to the floor while the purple shirt had turned red from bleeding out. The boy made haste to his father's side with tears running down his face, confused as to why this had happened in the first place and grasping at his stuffed cardinal in fear. His father, whose hands were covered in blood like he was wearing red gloves, caressed the little boy's face for the last time as he gathered his final breath, seeing his son for the last time.

I-I'm so sorry... said the father as his hand dropped to his side, taking his final breath. His eyes stared vacantly into the ceiling at the dining room chandelier, still dangling from the storm as the lightning dances in and out of the hanging crystals.

The child, not knowing how to process his loss, was in shock. He didn't know what else to do at the moment, so he began to cry. He sank his head onto his deceased father's chest, bursting into tears.

Daddy, no, said the little boy, losing his breath in between syllables, stricken with panic. Daddy...

He didn't love you anyway, came a stern, female voice from inside the kitchen, piercing the little boy's eardrum and catching his attention. He didn't love any of us.

The little boy, wiping the tears and blood off his face, started to stand up, trying to find the source of the voice. His eyes were blinded from tears that flooded from his eyelids onto the puddle of blood that continued to stain the hardwood floors. He took one final swipe of his face to notice a woman in the kitchen, wearing a pink polka dot dress standing stoically next to the sink. It was his mother, smiling at the boy manically.

He didn't love any of us, so I took care of Daddy, she said soundly as she revealed a butcher knife in her right hand, dripping in blood.

In more astonishment than ever, the boy dropped the stuffed cardinal and landed into his father's puddle of blood, splashing onto his bare feet.

MOMMY!!!

Chapter 2

The clouds cleared the daytime sky as a thunderstorm ended over the Crimson University campus. The doors opened from Rosenbaum Hall, located on the south side, and out flooded six whole groups of young adults as they finished their finals. Boys and girls exited the building in excitement as they walked onto the freshly wet grass, talking about their summer plans. At the back of the group exited a tall, young man, walking alone wearing his plain blue jeans and basic white crew neck t-shirt. He put on his headphones in his ears behind his shaggy, black hair guiding the cords around his thick black spectacles and played his shuffled playlist. He placed the music player in his canvas backpack in the top pouch, where the name DJ POPE was embroidered in black thread. He emerged onto the grass, feeling the water soak the tip of his black and white Converse sneakers as a punk rock band started playing on his music playlist. The drum's heavy beat invigorated his mind as he felt relieved that he survived his first year at college. The chorus began when he felt a tug of the chord from his earphones coming from behind. He turned around and followed the indigo blue nail polish on the well-manicured feminine hand.

DJ! How did your economics final go!? asked the young woman in excitement and curiosity.

I think it went well. It better be after re-reading the textbook all night! replied DJ with a hint of sarcasm. I hope it made my smoking habit worth the start. How did your biology final go, Aurora?

Nailed it! she responded as she limped out her wrist to show off the flashy nail polish revealing her double entendre. Aurora Blanchett always dressed to the nines. She wore her flowy orange and purple maxi dress with a white sun hat covering her roller-curled blonde hair. Aurora never understood the typical dress code of a college student that consisted of sweatpants, crop tops, and furry boots. She also never put her hair in a messy bun. Maybe that's why DJ appreciated Aurora. He was not really into fashion and style trends, but he sure enjoyed someone who knew how to take care of themselves.

Aurora and DJ met at a campus LGBTQIA+ ice cream social at the beginning of their freshman year. He remembered standing in the corner as the upper-class students were socializing with each other and having a good time. Seniors caught up after a long summer of internships, as juniors reminisced on their summer flings. DJ was standing by a maple tree in the pleasant shade, eating a neapolitan ice cream sandwich. He noticed a junior across the cluster of students that couldn't keep his eyes off him since he arrived. No matter where DJ moved to deflect this guy’s attention, the junior's eyes kept following him, staring at him with lust and desire. Once he got to the tree across from his original spot, the junior, wearing a pink polo tucked into his indigo washed jeans with the collar popped, approached him.

Hey, hot stuff.

Hi, replied DJ, feeling uncomfortable, speaking in an uninterested tone as he felt the cold neglect from his unbitten sandwich.

I haven’t seen you around here before. You must be a freshman. I'm Arthur, said the junior, visibly glancing his eyes up and down to check DJ out, not even attempting to conceal his overbearing interest.

Yes, I am. responded DJ, becoming impatient from the blatant objectification.

I was thinking, did you want to meet up later tonight? I think you are so hot! I would really like to show you a good time, inquired Arthur, now placing his hand on his jeans' waistband, looping his thumb through the frayed belt loop.

It was soon apparent that Arthur was interested in one thing. Being a newly out gay man, DJ had never been in a situation where he had to reject somebody. A young woman chimed into the conversation with urgency, wearing an oversized black and white striped tunic over a pair of black studded leggings and leather boots. Her blonde bangs were barely covering her eyes, along with her black and white striped fedora hat. She looked as if she was ready to rob a bank after shopping at nearby Bergdorf's.

Excuse me, is there a problem here? asked Aurora in an intimidating tone.

Nothing is wrong. Now, if you will excuse us, we are in the middle of something important, said Arthur in a passive-aggressive tone, attempting to dismiss her.

If I'm not mistaken, Aurora began to clap back. "It appears that you are making a beyond desperate attempt at another hookup with another innocent freshman. I suggest you go find somebody else!"

I don't think this is any of your goddamn business. Let us be! Arthur hissed as his voice was rising in embarrassment mixed with anger as her words spoke truth.

LISTEN, BITCH! went Aurora, now up in Arthur's face, I suggest you step back before I make your balls into a wind chime...which isn't even going to be that big given what I've heard from your previous hookups. Now. BACK. THE. EFF. UP! she yelled, poking at his chest with every syllable.

Arthur left, startled, pissed off, and with his face pinker than the neapolitan ice cream, which was now melted in DJ's hands as he watched the altercation get intense. His hand began to feel numb as Arthur went onto the next group of freshmen across the way and started over with his same pitch in his desperate attempt to get some action. DJ turned to look at Aurora, now flipping her blonde hair back with her 'Bye Felicia' expression. DJ exchanged a satisfied smile with Aurora.

Thank you. That guy was a creep! said DJ, feeling safe.

No problem. I'm Aurora, she responded.

I'm DJ. Can I ask you a question?

Sure.

Why are you dressed like the Hamburglar’s wife? asked DJ, giggling.

GURRL...You want some fries with this shake?! she piped in, giving three snaps of her fingers in a circular motion while shaking her butt.

The two laughed in unison, making a deep connection.

Ever since that ice cream social, they had been friends. Aurora was also a freshman at Crimson University. She was not gay, but identified as an ally. Aurora told him that she felt like gays had the answers to life. Aurora also felt more comfortable dressing as over the top as she wanted to. She loved getting a reaction from 'normal' people, but her favorite interactions were when the gay men would hype up her fashion choices, no matter how over the top they were. She always told DJ that she lived for the YAS! The two would meet up almost every day, either going out for coffee, lunch, study breaks, and even the occasional frat party. DJ viewed Aurora as a family member. Somebody that he could trust with his life.

DJ and Aurora continued to walk through the courtyard after discussing their final exams, passing by the Music Arena and Coulee Hall towards their dorm at Gayhart Hall. They were exchanging their recent experiences with semester challenges, from DJ and his economics class to the supply and demand structures, to Aurora's cell structure and virology lessons. Once