Necessarily Evil- Apocalypse

by Shad N Freud

  Marcel’s eyes widened in horror with every word. Cenere sighed, shook his head, and looked over at Camilla with a shrug before going into the training room, taking a breath, and popping several throwing knives into his hands as he lunged into the room with a battle cry. Several moments, a blood curdling scream, and a brutalized tiefling flying back out of the room later, Carl strolled out of the room, breathing heavily as he pulled a throwing knife out of his shoulder. “Sorry mate, you startled me.”

  Cenere’s hand rose shakily from the floor where he lay as a puddle of tortured flesh and gave Carl the finger. He then crawled back into the training room to let the regeneration field put him back together. Carl glared at Marcel, then took a deep breath and forced a smile onto his face. “So, just what is this mission of yours? What’s so bloody important that you left mum alone with a child in wartime?”

  Marcel took one last drag on his cigarette, then put it out in the ashtray on the table. “There’s an Enigma II coding machine on a prototype U-boat in Norway. Guess where you’re heading? I’ve been waiting four bloody years for this opportunity, and as you pointed out, I lost my dear wife for this damned mission. The Krauts know that you’ve cracked their Enigma and came up with a new one, one with better encryption algorithms. The Allies have been getting false flag information, and this is my chance to ensure the war ends quickly. That is why I’m on this mission, to end this war. And…I always knew I wouldn’t be going home,” Marcel said, looking at the woodgrain of the table. “I never expected to be going home, but I hoped that my name would be cleared after the war. I guess that morose tosser Sinister never bothered to spill the beans on that one.”

  “To be fair, he’s supposed to die in a week.” Cenere shrugged. Carl looked at him with an eyebrow raised and Cenere rolled his eyes. “Look, I screwed my history teacher because she was hot, not because I needed help with my grades. History was one of my better subjects.”

  Carl looked back at his father and rubbed his temples. “Look, I need time to process this. A lifetime of being treated lower than pond scum by most of your faith doesn’t get forgiven in an hour. Just…give me some time. I’m still a bit disappointed that I only got to kill the bitch who killed my wife once. I guess it’s inevitable that I’ll get to torture her while we’re back here, but…”

  Marcel met Carl’s gaze. “Just out of curiosity, what’s her name?”

  “Mistress Ink. Some kind of succubus queen. Has a connection to Himm…ler…wait.”

  Marcel’s eye began to twitch as his mouth quirked up into a sadistic smile. “You won’t need to look very far. I know exactly where the whore is.”

  Carl’s eyes took on a faint shade of pink as they tried to bore into Marcel’s soul. “You do?”

  “Yes. Whenever she isn’t bent over Himmler’s bedpost taking it in the arse, she’s in her almost palatial chambers or helping the R&D boffins…when she isn’t servicing them on her knees. She’s a right tart, that one. Took a pass at me a few times and got pissy when I told her where to stuff it. I think we should nab her before we head to the Sub Pen.”

  Carl’s eye glinted with malign glee. “Pops, I think you’re right. How are we going to play this?”

  Marcel rubbed his chin for a moment, then grabbed the pack of smokes off the table, and lit himself one as he pondered the problem. “Honeypot?”

  Carl nodded. “She seems to like you, right? Suppose we sweetened the deal and brought her a ‘slave’ for her to play with?”

  Marcel’s smirked as he nodded. “I think that could certainly work. Especially if that pretty tiefling-” Marcel paused as he felt the cold steel barrel of Camilla’s grenade launcher press against the base of his skull.

  “Inquisitor Beaumont, unless you have a burnin' desire tae gan’ catch up with Lucy right this second, ah recommend ye nae volunteer my man for a seduction mission. Th' ainlie woman he’ll be seducing any time soon is me.” Camilla snarled, a faint blush dusting her cheeks.

  “Or not.” Marcel said as he raised his hands in submission.

  Carl looked over at Camilla and laughed at the furious expression on her face as he gently pushed the barrel away from Marcel’s skull. “Excitable today, are we? Love, jealousy is downright adorable on you, but try not to kill my dad, yeah? Don’t worry, I’d never use that bonny lad of yours for a honeypot. I’ll be the ‘slave.’”

  Everybody turned to stare at Carl aghast. “What? I’m not going to fuck the filthy bitch. But, since you all seem so concerned about my mental health, I do plan on having fun with her. Unlike you fuckers, I did watch the important points of the video the bitch took. She seems to like a couple of toxins that are hard to come by. Luckily for me, I had a whole day or two before I joined you after my stint in the bughouse.”

  Carl smirked ferally as he pulled his long coat out from his uniform’s left breast pocket. He reached into the coat and pulled out a few small boxes. One was filled with syringes, while the other two were filled with vials of Tetrodotoxin and Verrucotoxin. His smile became downright sadistic as he continued pulling things out, including a rusty set of pliers, a mass trauma kit, and a claw hammer. “I’m going to take my time and enjoy what I’m going to do to her. Oh, and Jin? I hope you don’t mind, but I’m going to need to borrow your training room.”

  Jin’s brow furrowed, but he nodded. “You can have it as long as you like for this, but why the training room?”

  Carl smiled. “If this mansion is anything like my own, the training room can be set to prevent death in a being by shackling the soul to the body. I plan on preventing her from leaving, and I’ll be putting down a three-tiered binding circle just in case. And I plan on giving back to her what she gave to my family four-fold. Too bad this mansion doesn’t have golems, or I’d outfit them with the knives from Seven and tell them to make a few new holes to…well. I’m sure you get the idea. Now, who has a pair of cuffs I can borrow?”

  Cenere and Camilla both pulled out a pair form their Nexus bags although Camilla had the decency to blush when she realized that the pair she pulled out were pink and fuzzy, leading to a lecherous grin from Cenere. “The plain ones, I think,” Marcel drawled as reached for them, only for Carl to stop him, and grab the pink ones instead, eliciting a raised eyebrow from Marcel. Carl shrugged.

  “If we’re going to do this ridiculous thing, might as well take all the piss.” Carl said as he slipped the cuffs onto his wrists. “Shall we?”

  Chapter Twelve

  Ink glared at the door to her chamber when someone knocked insistently. She ignored it at first, then rolled her eyes as she set down the tome she’d been reading. She stretched sinuously, her lithe muscles flexing under her silky-smooth skin adorned with abyssal tattoos that only added to her appeal. Her slightly reddish skin marked her as inhuman as much as the small horns that sprouted from her brow or her glowing violet eyes.

  Those eyes flashed malevolently as she slipped on a silk robe and glamoured herself to look a bit more human, her skin becoming a creamy white, her bald head covered in blonde silk that cascaded down her shoulders like a golden waterfall. She checked her appearance in the mirror and smiled at the beauty of her form.

  Finally, she unlocked the door, and spied a very handsome elf she’d often tried to seduce. “Why, Major Beaumont! To what do I owe the…pleasure of this visit?”

  Marcel smiled genially. “I’ve been reassigned to join a squad headed for Norway. And…well, I know I always turned you down before, but…as this will be the last time I see you…”

  Ink smiled winsomely and opened the door wider. “Please, enter. Wait, who is that…robust friend of yours? He is a,” Ink licked her lips as she followed the muscles down to the waist, “tasty looking man. Is he for me?”

  “I figured I’d bring you a present. He’s a dumb brute from the slave pens, but he was an Inquisitor before he was…acquired. I figured you’d enjoy breaking him,” Marcel said as he placed his hand on Carl’s shoulder and pushed him to his knees. “He’s rather…insolent
.”

  Ink smiled darkly as she lifted the green man’s chin with her finger. “Oh, I’ll make him pliant. Very pliant. And, I’ll do it in the fun way. But first, I want to thank you for-” She froze as she felt something jabbed into her neck, and a plunger depressed. “You sneaky little…” She collapsed to the floor, her eyes fixed on the syringe in Marcel’s hand. “Tet-tet-“

  “Tetrodotoxin. One of your favorites, if I’m correct?” He nodded at Carl, who sneered at her as he spit the key into his hand and unlocked his cuffs. He rubbed his wrists and smiled cruelly as he put them around her wrists instead. “Magic dampening, my dear. And, I’m afraid, this gent has a vested interest in seeing you broken. And, his way will not be as fun as you’d hope.” Marcel produced a large burlap bag and handed it to Carl. “I think it’ll be easier to just put her in the bag and carry her.”

  “Oh, I agree. But, she’s a bit too intact for my tastes,” Carl snarled as he roughly shoved her into the bag. She tried to cry out, but the toxin had already paralyzed her throat, preventing her from doing more than murmuring. Carl shook his head and swung the sack at the wall over and over, the bag turning a sickly shade of violet as the demon’s blood stained the sack.

  The pair looked around the room and Carl smirked as he slipped into his uniform while Marcel started stuffing magic items into a Nexus bag he’d borrowed from Krang. They then snuck back to the Mansion and made their way to the training room. In the center of the room, there was an intricately drawn binding circle painted on the floor with extra barrier rings to reinforce the binding mandala. Krang looked up as he finished painting it on the floor and gave Carl a thumbs up as the paint quickly dried.

  In the center of the circle was a reclining iron chair covered in barbed wire and bladed restraints, the edges pointed inward. He dropped the groaning sac of concussed demon on the floor and dragged her out of the bag by the throat as he kicked the bag out of the circle. She regained consciousness just before Carl shoved her into the chair, the restraints snapping closed around her ankles causing her to scream in pain as the blades bit into her flesh. He then uncuffed her and forced her wrists into the arm restraints, eliciting another unearthly scream.

  “Like the chair? It’s designed for causing maximum pain. And, if that isn’t enough for you, I brought some party favors.” Carl grabbed the sheet covering the small cart and ripped it away, exposing a large number of sharpened blades, penny nails, bottles of exotic toxins, a blow torch, and a megger with gator clamps. “Wouldn’t want this to get boring, after all. Oh, and in this room? You can’t die. So, believe me, this is going to be long, painful, and fun. Well, fun for me at least.”

  Cenere looked over at Camilla in concern. “Is it just me, or is he starting to sound a little…serial killer-sque?”

  Camilla shrugged and set up the lights, using gaffers tape to mark off the positions the lights would need to be placed at depending on the shot. Jin was busy putting up microphones while Sachi positioned the cameras. Ink’s eye followed each person’s movements and looked back to Carl. “Why are you doing this? I mean, I’m sure we can come to an agreement, can’t we? Just please, don’t do this. I’ll serve you without fail for a year and a day if you…what are you doing?”

  Carl sat down on the three-legged stool he’d pulled off the lower section of the cart. He smiled at her as he grabbed a penny nail and one of the bottles of Verrucotoxin. “Stonefish toxin. I believe you’re familiar with this one?” The demon’s eyes widened as Carl pulled out a marker, and began marking places to drive nails, particularly at nerve clusters. “So painful people cut their own limbs off to alleviate the pain. Too bad you can’t move, huh? This should get us started.”

  “Look, I can help you! I can get you whatever you want! Anything your heart desires!”

  “There’s nothing you can do for me except scream.”

  “No! Please, you don’t need to do this! No, please…NO! Don’t do-” Carl backhanded her across her already injured face, more of her blood to staining the floor. He then grabbed a claw hammer from the cart.

  “I know you’re going to fight the urge to scream, and I can respect that. But, if you end up just letting it all out, I won’t judge you. Now, these cameras are going to record the entire time we’re together, Ink, and I’m going to send copies to a few friends of mine.”

  “I…I will get you for this.”

  Carl’s smile became a snarl as he backhanded her again. “Trust me, I know.” He grabbed the strap connected to the head rest and strapped her head into position. He then put the point of the nail in the middle of the dot on Ink’s knee. “Every journey begins with a single step. Your agony? Hasn’t even begun yet.” Carl’s smile became downright sadistic as he raised the hammer, and slowly began driving the nail into Ink’s kneecap. She fought the urge for a whole thirty seconds before she began screaming in agony. Carl paused and looked at what he’d done. “You know what? This is all wrong. I can’t do this.”

  Ink’s eyes rose hopefully, meeting Carl’s gaze. “Really?” she asked hopefully as she fought the urge to continue screaming.

  “Yes,” Carl said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of smokes and a zippo. “I forgot the music.” He also pulled out his smart phone, plugged in his headphones, started his music app, and put the phone back into his pocket. He then picked up the hammer, dipped another nail into the bottle of Verrucotoxin. “Sieg Heil, thubpbpb, Heil, thubpbpb, right in der Fuhrer’s face!”

  The group left the mansion slightly unnerved as Carl sang atonally while he tortured the Demon Prince within. Cenere shuddered as Jin reopened the door to retrieve the stone and the group then made their way to the motor pool. Ten minutes later, they were driving down the roads towards Norway, taking less used roads to avoid people as much as possible. It also served a second purpose, allowing Carl to take his time in torturing the vile bitch he had in the training room.

  Marcel shuddered as he pondered his son’s fate. The young man was cursed to live in the shadow of his father, one so dark it tainted other’s opinions of him. One so terrible he refused to use his birth name. He lit one of the shitty Kraut cigarettes as they drove and looked over at Jin. “How was he…”

  “Before what happened to his family? Heh.” Jin shook his head as he smiled sadly. “He was a brash, violent…happy man. I caught glimpses of him looking at a picture in his wallet and smiling when he thought no one was looking. He had to hide his family, to a degree, because of his position, as being a Grand Inquisitor means collecting enemies like children collect trading cards. And yet, somehow the bitch found his family. I don’t think I need to paint you a picture here, do I?”

  Marcel shook his head. “No. I think I can see the picture pretty clearly already.” The elf ran his hand through his close-cropped hair and lost himself in thought, thinking about just how hard Carl must have had it. Those scars that seemed to cover him from head to toe weren’t self-inflicted and some of them looked pretty serious. He was also covered with tattoos, and that one on his right arm…Marcel rubbed his own wrist, remembering the training he’d received when he was younger. He wondered what the wily old bug was up to before shaking his head to clear his thoughts.

  Marcel sighed as he watched the snowfield fly by while Krang drove the troop transport. A single tear traced its way down his cheek, and he wiped it away as he did his best not to dwell on the pain his son was going to have to endure as he grew up. The life of a Satanist was one of pain, after all.

  The transport swerved to avoid an old woman walking down the road, and Krang ‘s head snapped around to stare at Jin. Zeke was likewise staring at the gnome. “What?”

  “I can feel eddies in the darklight that exists in the subplane. Carl must be doing a real number on the bitch. Her screams are reverberating across the subplanar frequencies. I think she may be trying to summon help, but it’s been muffled by the barriers.”

  Marcel looked over at Jin. “He’s not going to kill her, is he?”

  J
in rolled his eyes. “He’s a professional. Also, I’m pretty sure he’s not dumb enough to use the Baneflame on her. He’d need you or one of the other Inquisitors on this trip to burn her.”

  Marcel looked over at Krang. “How sure are you of that?”

  “99.95%” Krang’s eyes flashed, then he rubbed the back of his head as he winced, feeling the screams in in the negative energy subplane intensify.

  “…89.5%,” Zeke and Krang both said.

  Marcel’s eyes widened as he looked over at Jin, who nodded and Krang pulled over at an outhouse. Jin and Marcel ran for the outhouse as the others slowly strolled that way, with Jin pulling the stone out of his pocket while Marcel swore sulfurously. Cenere rubbed the bridge of his nose while he and Camilla strolled over to the box, Cenere’s hand gripping the leash tightly. Camilla didn’t seem to mind much, though, if the way she was swaying her hips was any indication. The old woman they’d swerved to avoid watched curiously as everyone went into the normal sized outhouse, then shrugged.

  “Guess they really needed to go,” she chuckled as she continued on her way, trudging through the snow as she made her way home from the ration dispensary.