The Apocalypse and Satan's Glory Hole! (1) (49 page)

The fourteen-foot shit demon is finally closing in on the deranged Horseman he has been following since Reno. The mind of the onetime shape-shifter and regenerator now works in slow shitty loops.

Six million shitty steps later, it feels the anticipation of wrapping its big fecal claw around Pestilence’s smug face. Chop it off and give him a shit body. Then he could be the Shit Horseman.

Revenge is all he seeks.

Revenge is all he knows.

He gets a glimpse of Pestilence rolling around on the ground with two guys that look a lot like him. He quickens his big shitty strides. A shadow falls over him. He looks up to see a giant red hoof coming down.

“Ah shit!” he grumbles before being squished to a big brown smear across the gory battlefield.

Edwina stumbles to her knees as the giant box shifts. She glances back at Chuzz, who has the toy microphone in hand and a dumb look on his face. He stares at her, and she frowns back at him.

The ray of white light carves a hole in the sand and mutilates the demons screaming out of the holes. They are sliced in half with splatters of pus and ooze flying in every damn direction. For the first time today, she smiles.

Her grin gets even wider when she gets a look at Satan’s giant cocks. She narrows her eyes at the closest one, and she decides to have a little fun. The ray of light is fizzling out a little but is still strong enough to do the job.

She runs along the edge of the giant box so she can get a good angle. For now, she keeps the ray pointed away from the giant demon, who takes a big step forward to close in on the box. He’ll be able to grab her pretty soon if she doesn’t boogie. She thinks again about just trying to slice the bastard’s head off, but this is Satan himself and she has her doubts that would do anything other than piss him off.

She reaches the end of the box just as another smaller one slaps itself into place. It says Daily Cunt and she almost laughs out loud at how ridiculous the whole situation is. Then she gets good and angry again and points the ray straight down.

She points the ray straight down, then rips it up into the air and catches Satan with his pants, literally, down. The ray fizzles out as she completes her cut.

Satan jerks his head up and screams at the sky as one of his cocks flops off and hits the ground far below. He reaches for it, but not fast enough, and the big red hunk of flesh smashes into a whole group of demons.

“PISS COCK FUCKING SUCKING MOTHER FUCKING ASS-LOVING SISTER OF DEATH FUCK!” he screams and stumbles. His hand shoots out and hits the box, knocking Edwina over the edge.

Air whistles past her as she plummets to the ground. She strikes much sooner than anticipated. The surface is not hard at all, but soft and moving. The ground shifts as the breath is driven from her body. A nasty smell assaults her nose right away, nearly overriding her pain threshold, which has just about peaked.

A cracked rib or three for sure.
Head hurts, feels wet, like blood. She bit into her tongue, and part of it might have come off.

“OWWWWW!” She gurgles blood, but she is moving

“Get the fuck off me!” a voice yells.

She looks around and realizes she is flying. Giant red wings the size of boats rise on either side of her body. She rolls over, and a huge five-horned vulture head looks back at her. The face is disgusting, looks like a horse grew a beak and then was dipped in fuck you ugly.

“Arghhhh!” she screams.

“Arrghhh!” the creature screams back as it dives toward the ground.

“I’m gonna land and then skullfuck you!” it informs her.

She reaches to her waist and pulls one of the .45’s. She cocks back the hammer, pretty sure the gun is dry, not that this stupid shit will know, and puts the barrel right up against the thing’s reeking head.

“What?” she says and spits blood.

“Said I’m gonna land and let you go.” The thing tries to smile.

She nearly passes out.

A thunderous guttural scream from the staggering Lord of Darkness brings a momentary pause to the chaos on the ground. Flesh-starved zombies turn from their one-course demon meals and gawk at Satan, wincing and clutching his dick stump in his giant red hands. Blackish ooze drips from between his fingers, and the demons wrinkle their faces in disgust and pity. In the middle of a crowd of battling demons and dead folk, Pestilence has Leon pinned to the ground with his knees on the man’s shoulders. Bud has his arm wrapped around Pestilence’s throat and one hand twirled up tight in the Horseman’s long greasy hair.

All three pause and look in the direction of the inhuman screams to see Satan stomping around in agony. Satan steps on a greasy shit demon and slips and falls face first onto the fucking confusing battlefield. Hundreds of demons and walking dead are crushed under his bellowing form as he rolls back to his feet.

“Holy shit,”
 
Pestilence gasps, struggling for breath under Bud’s choke hold, “Is that Satan?”

Leon, who is lying on the ground with his head rolled back so he can see everything that is going on even if it is half upside-down, answers Pestilence, “Yeah, and something cut one of his pricks off!”

Pestilence’s stares Leon in his orange and green eyes and asks (still half choking on Bud’s forearm), “Are you frying balls? How fucking wild is that? Ha!”

“Shut the fuck up!”
 
Bud orders and tightens his grip. “We have serious fucking issues to deal with
right fucking now,
and I ain’t gonna put up with someone teasing Leon
right fucking now
!”

Pestilence gags and tries to speak but can’t. Leon wiggles out from under Pestilence’s slender twitching form and crawls to his battleaxe. He
picks it up and hacks into the nearest hellborn creature, separating horned head from feathered body, hoping to strike fear into the heart of their hooded assailant. Pestilence gags behind Bud’s arm but still smiles his rotted grin at Leon. His yellow eyes sparkle, and Leon knows he could chop the head off of every demon in Hell and not scare this creature. Not a monster or an assassin, worse by far … a junkie.

Leon turns his battleaxe sideways and bitch slaps the junkie across the face with it. Bud chuckles and kicks the man once in his ribs. He readies himself for a second kick, but the hooded man is on his feet in a flash.

“Who the fuuuuck are you?”
 
Bud demands.

The hooded man catches Leon off guard and backhands him with enough force to send him sprawling across the sand. Then he turns back to Bud, smiles his black-toothed grin, and says, “I’m mutha’ fuckin’
 
Pestilence, baby … and I’m ready to get HIGH!”
 
To punctuate his last statement, he head butts Bud in the face. Bud’s knees buckle, but Pestilence grabs him by the scruff of his shirt and hauls him up.

 
“You know, this is my favorite Hustler tee shirt design,”
 
Pestilence mentions offhandedly before tossing Bud like a rag doll. He lands on his back with a crunch and a crack that causes a second pause from the thinning hordes of demon and zombies still ripping each other to shreds around them. They turn and look at Bud’s twisted and broken form, but once he screams they all go back to attacking whatever is closest to them.

Leon gets back to his feet and growls at Pestilence. “Fuck you. I’m fucking sick of anything and everything that has ever been to or crawled out of Hell! Not a single goddamn thing has worked out at fucking all for us! And now you fucking show up and break Bud’s fucking back. He just fucking got rid of kidney stones, and now he’s got a broken fucking back. ASSHOLE!”

Pestilence chuckles and levels his crossbow at Leon, “It’s only getting worse for ya from here, dude; I’m eating your fried fucking brain.”

“What?”
 

“That fat tweeker in the sex shop, the one with the killer LSD? He told me your brain was soaked in the shit! I’m here to feast on your gray matter, fucko!”
 
Pestilence drools down his skinny chin as he eyes his intended victim.

“Leon,”
 
Bud gasps from the sand. “Use … *pained breathing* …
 
the … *cough, cough* … fucking … *cough, then pained breathing* …
 
axe … *deep cleansing breath* …
 
you stupid bastard.”
 
Just as Bud gasps out the last words, a giant hoof lands on either side of his prone form.

Leon looks at the gore-stained heavenly weapon in his hands. He smiles and starts whirling in great uneven circles, holding out the axe so it whistles as it slices through the air. The axe cleaves limbs and heads from nearby demons and zombies, and they push each other into its path as they
scramble to get out of its way. “FUCK YOU ALL!” Leon bellows. “I GOT SOMETHING FOR YA!”
 

“Whoa, asshole,”
 
Pestilence says and backs away, holding the loaded crossbow in front of him. “I said stop that shit!”

A voice booms from above, “Pestilence? Is that you? What the fuck? I just got a dick hacked off and you are down here rolling in the fucking sand?”

Pestilence takes his eyes off of Leon just long enough to look at Satan and say, “You still got two, boss,”
 
before Leon lets go of the axe and falls to his ass. The momentum of Leon’s spin sends the axe flying end over end like a medieval buzz saw. Pestilence ducks the twirling blade and shoots Leon with another hypodermic arrow, this one right in the middle of his forehead.

The mind-melting burn of the needle’s poison rushes into his head even though he plucks it out as fast as he can. He tosses the half-empty needle to the sand and watches the axe as it flies at Satan. Satan’s eyes go huge as the blade cuts cleanly through one of his two remaining dicks. He bellows, grabs his second dick stump, and stomps away, screaming, “Are you FUCKING kidding ME? In my ass not off with my dicks! FUCK!”
 

A massive dick-shaped shadow covers Bud as he tries to crawl away. He digs his hands into the sand and pulls his broken body a few inches. He reaches again, but the giant red schlong smashes to the ground on top of him, sending Bud into darkness.

Pestilence points and laughs at his pained Lord before reloading the crossbow and pointing it back at Leon. “Now I’ve got to eat your brain since you threw away your killer weapon, dumbsh …” His words are interrupted when the axe boomerangs back. It whistles as it passes through. His yellow eyes twitch. His long fingers claw at the air in front of him as his torso slides off his hips with a slurping sound like old people butt fucking. Both halves of Pestilence’s corpse hit the sand, and three-foot-thick worms burst forth and hiss at Leon. They burrow into the desert, leaving Pestilence’s body paper-thin and flapping in the breeze.