Fifty Fifty

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He heard a chorus of whistles. Familiar tunes. Old slave spirituals he sang in Sunday School.

He paused. Considered turning back. Kept walking.

Something about suffering and Christ and finding salvation in heaven. Lyrics he didn’t believe… Not until Lucifer offered him free, fluorescent bottles of Moonshine. Money. Love. Promises of salvation. The catch… meet him in the alley.

He stepped through puddles.

Blood. Warm to the touch.

Money. Respect. Fame. Every desire. For something intangible. Illogical. Something he didn’t believe in…until the Devil offered him everything he desired. For a price. His most valuable asset.

Tightness in his stomach as he turned the corner. Into the alley.

The smell of sulfur was at its peak. Nausea.

He gripped his pistol in his pocket with one hand. Crucifix around his neck with the next.

Tink! Tink! The coin flips echoed through the alley. Pap! Pap! Spotlights exploded around him.

The sulfur. The nausea in his stomach. The impure thoughts.

He was getting closer.

The sharply dressed boy awaited him under the remaining spotlight.

Last time it was a woman. A woman who resembled his childhood sweetheart. The Devil loved to play games.

Smack!

The boy snatched coin out of the air. Pointed a fist in his direction.

“Play?” The boy asked.

He shook his head.

“Heads or tails?” The Boy inquired.

“I don’t-”

“Fifty fifty chance.” The boy insisted. “Heads for salvation… Tails for…”

For… Damnation?

A lava red glow burned behind the boy’s jagged smile. “Fifty… Fifty.”

 

 

The Order: Monster Mash

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“Their existence is a declaration of war.”

The centennial Monster Mash.

A once a century, secret Congress of the most powerful and influential monsters of all nationalities, species, and realms. A parlay among humanity’s predators. He was tasked with surveilling the meeting by the foolish and misguided Humanic Order. He had greater plans. The Order will thank him whence the smoke clears.

Red Vampire, the host, was in his cross-hairs. Succubus brides trailing behind him, arranging and rearranging furniture. Preparing for their big feast.

“Doesn’t feel right,” Squire whispered. “Ambushing them.”

“It’s war.”

“I know… Still doesn’t feel right to me.”

They bared the mark. His was the mark of a Knight of the Humanic Order. Far more prestigious than that of Squire. He was born superior. A living weapon. A machine sculpted by the Gods. 

“Is a preemptive strike the right move?” Squire asked.

Squires were servants. Living tools and nothing more.

Their existence is a declaration of war. 

Squire sighed. “I think we shoul-“

He twisted squires ear until it bled. Are you Knight or Squire?”

“Sq… Squire, sir.”

“Then be a squ-“

Squire’s pupils turned white.

Its time.

Phwoosh! Inter-dimensional tears formed near the mansion walkway.

He released Squire. “Clean yourself.”

Squire’s blood could attract Red and his wives.

Dragons, basilisk drawn carriages, private jets, stretch hearses and cloaked helicopters emerged from the inter-dimensional tears. Filth. Creating portals with accuracy. Strong magic. 

“Camera,” He commanded.

“Should we contact-“

“No.”

The  Order would stop him. Or try.

Squire handed him the full-spectrum camera. “Red organized all this.”

“Irrelevant.”

Monsters swiftly gathered in the mansion dining room to feast on the raw carcasses on display.

Squire’s eyes widened. “Temporal-“

Knight yanked Squire to the ground.

Whoosh… Whoosh…

Dragon wings materialized among the stars.

Teleporting dragons. Blind, with other Godlike senses encircled them for several minutes. Vanished as fast as they arrived.

Idiot squire left blood-specks on his shoulder plate. Attracting the beasts.

Must act before squire ruins..  

“Amazing,” Squire said.

Knight loaded his cannon.”No more waiting.”

Enough watching.

“Claim your weapon,” He commanded. “Time to cleanse this world.”

Explosion will eliminate most. Then he and Squire will head down and finish all who survive the blast.

Squire knelt to reclaim his scythe but pulled back.

Coward.

He drew a pistol and trained it on Squire. “Claim. Your. Weapon.”

Squire claimed his scythe.

Monster unification is a threat to mankind. Can’t allow it.

“Cleanse the world…” Squire said.

“Yes…

“Okay.” Squire sliced Knight’s neck open with his scythe.

Knight desperately held this throat together with his hand. Collapsed.

Blood gushing. Shadows appearing around him. Reapers? No… worse. Red Vampire and his succubus wives.

Traitor.

“All yours.” Squire handed a succubus bride the bloody scythe.

“I can feel its power,” Red sampled Knight’s blood.

Succubus danced around Squire.

“Stay for dinner?” Vampire sampled Knight’s blood with his fingernail.

“I’d be honored,” Squire answered. “To discuss peace-“

“Yes…Yes…  peace.” Red Vampire licked his fang-tips. “Prepare a meal for our human ally.”

“No, I-“

“We insist,” Vampire whispered in Squire’s ear.

Ghoul’s Night Out

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She perused the menu of the expensive, five pentagram rated restaurant.

A posh, dark ages style torture room decor with stunning views of the unholiest realms.

Perfect for their Ghoul’s night out.

“Let’s see it,” Bestie demands.

She reaches her ring hand across the table.

Bestie closely examines the gem. “Two trapped souls?!”

“I know!” She shrieks.

“Lucky ghoul.”

“And… he loves children,” She adds. “Lightly seasoned… Well done.”

“Your fave.”

“Ahhh… bestie remembers!”

Fiery portals open above their tables. Flaming tentacles place two cauldrons of Boiling Hot primordial soup before them.

“Roanoake U Coven reunion tomorrow.” Bestie tastes the soup.

“The Black Lipstick slut sorority?”

Bestie squints. “Didn’t you pledge?”

“Yes… Before you sacrificed me to the demon, Bilquis.”

Bestie nods. “You’re welcome.”

“Whatever.” She laughs. “Hows dating life?”

Tentacles deliver blood champagne.

“Screwed one of the four,” Bestie answers.

“Horseman?”

Bestie smirks. “Famine.”

“Thought you’d prefer War.”

Too aggressive.”

“Wow… You’ve matured.”

“Two hundredth birthday just passed.”

“Happy belated.”

“I guess…” Bestie frowns.

“Your soulless mate exists. I promise.”

“Yeah, sure,” Bestie sighs.

Explore… Date warlocks.”

“Religious nuts? No thanks.”

“Zombies?”

“Followers. One track minds.”

“Oooh, Vampires? They’re romantic.”

“Total racists.” Bestie replies.  “Briefly dated a succubus.”

“When?

“That semester in Purgatory.”

“Hmmm…. Mummies?”

“Terrible dressers.”

“Wolves?”

“Wild in bed.” Bestie flashes missing finger. “Too wild.”

“Frankenstein.”

“Happily married.”

She groans.

“Ghoul, stop! I’m… fine.”

“You sure?”

Bestie nods and raises glass. “Tonights about you and your unholy union.”

“I guess,” She raises glass.

They share a toast.