Timothy Long - The Apocalypse and Satan's Glory Hole

“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.

Chuzz dives for the back of the ice cream truck and misses, because the last thing into which he dove was a pool, and that thing was seventy feet long. He manages to grab onto the edge of the floor. He almost loses his grip, but Goatboy sticks out a hoof and Chuzz manages to grasp it.

“Get in the truck, you stupid cunt!” the goat yells.

“I’m damn well trying. Dammit!”