by Hunter Blain
The red flaming skull crashed into my conical shield in a brilliant explosion that blinded me, but sight was the least of my concerns. The amplified hellfire washed over the lightning only to coat my exposed head and feet, which were not protected by the defensive cone.
The flesh and hair on my head exploded in flames as if marinated in jet fuel, melting skin and muscle from bone. In a flash of comprehension, I knew my gray beanie had gone up in a puff of smoke as well.
That. Pissed. Me. Off.
“AYE ’EANIE!!!” a skinless skull roared in a mushroom cloud of rage. Though, admittedly, it probably didn’t sound very threatening without my lips.
The electrical shield in front of me crackled as my fury fueled Mjolnir. The cone flattened into a wall of a shield which spread as the power I poured into it expanded and swelled.
I began sprinting forward, pushing into the pulsating attack as bolts of lightning rained from above to coalesce into my growing defensive shield. Orbs of electricity formed in the empty sockets where my eyes had melted, giving me sight borrowed from the Norse gods themselves.
My attacker stood forty feet and closing. He changed to a defensive stance and seemed to tighten his grip on the staff, as if he hadn’t been serious with his attack before. It’s like he had been using a flyswatter to discipline an ornery dog before realizing the ineffectiveness of the technique and switching to an atomic warhead.
Well, the warhead rocketed from the spear in the horrific form of a horde of terrifying undead. They flew like specters in a beam of energy before becoming corporeal and spreading out like buckshot, blotting out the stars and even the moon above with their impossible numbers.
Through a lipless mouth, I screamed, “’RING IT OOOONNNNNNN!” in defiance as I dropped the shield, since I was no longer being accosted with the energy attack. Instead, he had used his power to raise the freaking dead. An idea came to me and I reached my hand over my head to grab the hilt of my sword—that wasn’t there.
“’HIT!” I cursed as I reached to my lower back and lifted the bottom of the sword up so I could grab the handle.
The enchanted cold-iron katana pulled free and hummed with unseen power. If I had skin, I would have smiled in maniacal glee at having Mjolnir hoisted in one hand and the magic-canceling katana in the other.
Joey bounded up to stand next to me, growling his warning at the oncoming undead, and I waved my hammer in an arc above us. The zombies were wearing funeral attire that burst into hungry flames as I excited the molecules of the fabrics.
As the elemental magic ate through the leathery skin, formaldehyde ignited in a burst of fire.
“Ho’y shit,” I tried to say, in awe of the spectacle. “Real h’odies!”
Joey whined and shifted back and forth on his feet, drawing my attention. I looked down at him with my electric-orb eyes and noticed he was pointing his nose skyward. I followed and saw what should have been obvious; an army of flaming zombies falling directly where we stood.
“Right,” I said as I brought the hammer to my side and willed a violent tornado of wind upward to intercept the army.
I caught a good quarter of the zombies and brought Mjolnir down from above my head to point at the warlock, drawing the zom-nado (take THAT Sharknado writers!) to land where he stood.
The warlock brought his spear-tipped staff to bear and sent green forks of unholy lightning out to latch onto the flaming corpses and explode them in a rain of decayed body parts and shredded clothing.
“EEERRRAAHH!” I cried out in frustration as my counterattack did absolutely nothing.
Flaming undead landed around where Joey and I stood our ground and began clambering over the ground on all fours like greyhounds at the track.
“OH, HO-HO-HO-HO, CREEEEEPY!!!” I yelped with a cold shudder down my spine before I grasped that I had been able to pronounce the “p” consonant. “Hey! I got my lips back!”
Three flaming undead leaped into the air with hands outstretched to my left as two more mirrored their actions from my right.
Joey met the ones on the right in midair, taking them down with a satisfying crunch before undead hands latched onto his fur with fingers that glowed like hot coals.
For the three that were closest to my left, I let go of Mjolnir—which shot back to my hip and vanished from sight—and swung the cold-iron katana with both hands like a baseball player up to bat. A lance of energy rocketed out, catching the zombies in midair and canceling the magic that animated them as they were knocked back like rag dolls.
As they flew, six more came in a semicircle around where I stood.
“Now serving number sixty-nine. Number sixty-nine, please approach the John.”
While the undead closed in, I began turning in a circle with my sexy sword like a top on meth and started slicing through heads, torsos, and limbs with ease. No matter where I hit, the magic seemed to be canceled, and I couldn’t help but wonder why I hadn’t used the weapon until now.
Because you had your own angelic gladius, I reminded myself with an inward frown.
A high-pitched yelp of pain caught my attention, and I saw where the flaming zombies were holding onto Joey, catching his fur on fire.
I willed Mjolnir back into my free hand before focusing on the moisture in the air and forcing it to condense around my friend. White smoke plumed off the burning were as my plan began to work, just as a bolt of purple energy latched onto my hand and began searing the flesh. The pendants on my lapel responded by glowing fiercely as they were unable to keep up with the demand of protecting my flesh from this ranged magical attack.
“What the fuck can counter holy magic?!” I cried out as I yanked back my hand and Mjolnir shot to my hip. I cradled the blackened flesh and felt the heat emanating from the crosses.
An empty slot in the shape of a spear inside of one of Valenta’s crates burst into my thoughts like a stepdad’s fist through drywall.
“The Spear of Destiny,” I exhaled as I shot my gaze to land on the ex-banker-looking warlock. My eyeballs were growing to replace the electric orbs. It was odd; with the eyes Mjolnir had provided, I was able to see within the magic spectrum, which was something I had never been able to do. With a quick focus of will, my preternatural eyes combined with Mjolnir’s, and a new picture came into focus.
I was rocked back hard enough to land on my ass as the warlock’s aura stole my breath and poisoned my mind. It was like looking at the sunrise, with tendrils of purple and green reaching into the night instead of the usual orange of dawn. Below the tentacles that seemed to reach the stars was a sphere of, first black, then purple, and finally green that enveloped the warlock. They pulsed with power and unwavering hatred. I could feel his wrath and fury through his aura, and it made tears sting my eyes as my mouth hung agape.
A group of flaming zombies rushed to me, attempting to tear me limb from limb, but I needed to see more. It was mesmerizing. Beautiful and terrifying all at once in a way that words would never be able to justly describe.
It didn’t take the undead long to realize my coat was all but impervious to their attacks, so they began opening it to get to my vulnerable flesh beneath. Hands covered in enthusiastic flames burned through my 100% cotton T-shirt, singeing the skin beneath. That caught my attention and I pulled myself out of my paralysis to deal with thes—
“AAAAAAHHHHHH!” I shrieked like Tom’s owner whenever Jerry rushed through the kitchen. Hands were reaching INTO my torso with impossible ease.
“How the fu-mmmhmphmmhphm,” I started to say before a hand went into my mouth, first up to the fist, then the elbow began to approach my face.
“MMMMMPPPHHHHH!!” I elaborated on the situation.
A smoking mass of muscle slammed into the collection of zombies surrounding me like a bowling ball crashing through pins.
The arm that was down my throat detached at the elbow, leaving behind a searing mass of bone that continued to crawl down my throat like a spider. Now I knew how Ash had felt in Evil Dead 2.
“MMMMMMMMPhmphmphmp,” I shrieked while waving my hands around, limp at the wrist, in disgust. Common sense tapped on my shoulder and calmly suggested I remove the crawling appendage from my throat. Seemed like a good idea.
I grabbed the bone of the forearm and ripped the hand free, taking with it some of my insides that were held in its grasp, like a defiant toddler being pulled from a ball pit at Chuck E. Cheese before he was done playing. You just knew several of those bacteria-laden orbs where coming with, paired with a high-pitched scream that was sure to make every lactating mother within a mile radius take notice.
One by one, I ripped off boney fingers until its hold on my literal stomach was released. I gotta tell ya, never before had I been forced to swallow my own guts, and it felt fucking weird. I dropped the hand on the ground next to me while I slurped down my stomach to its rightful home. I was relieved when I recognized the sensation of healing as things stitched back into place. I lay on my back, panting, as something tugged at my arm. Slowly rolling my head in annoyance, I saw the hand trying to climb up my limb in the direction of my pouty lips.
“You sonofabitch!” I barked through bared teeth as I grabbed and held the decrepit hand between my fists like Homer Simpson choking Bart. After a few moments of strangling the hand, I pictured what I must look like, sighed, and once again dropped the writhing hand to the ground next to me. Sword still in hand, I placed the tip of the katana against the skin and pushed in with just enough force to break through the thin flesh. It stopped wiggling and I sighed in frustrated relief. Had to admire the tenacity of the little bugger, though.
Joey was being set on fire, again, and I brought up Mjolnir as I climbed to my feet. My stomach, seeing its chance to escape for a second time tonight, attempted to abscond with my intestines through the alarmingly ample charred holes in my torso. How the hell had shambling undead been able to puncture my preternaturally tough flesh?
“Damn you, Mr. Fire!” I exclaimed to the gaping wounds as I focused on healing them. Luckily, I had conflagrated the zombies with elemental flames instead of hellfire, allowing me to heal the wounds with minimal focus, though my hunger was increasing exponentially.
Once the fist-sized holes were closed, I rolled my eyes as I saw I was going to need a new shirt.
“I should just rock what Taylor gave me,” I said to myself as I pictured my frame covered in shiny Elven silk while walking into a gay bar with dramatic flair and a Freddy Mercury mustache while Cher played in the background. “Never mind. Emergencies only,” I whispered as I flexed my pecs in a super manly show of masculinity.
Joey snarled as he tore the head off the last zombie in range, his fur smoking from the combined heat of the flames and the moisture I had covered him with.
More undead closed in on us, forcing Joey and me to move back to back. I willed a shield in my non-sword hand as the first zombie leaped at us. I slid the katana over my shield and into the head of the undead before yanking it free and whipping the sword around to slash through the skull of another. I bashed the face of one that tried to flank me, shattering its cranium before kicking it away, Spartan style.
Joey lunged into the fray as the flames diminished, leaving behind shriveled husks that barely posed a threat to either of us. As the were knocked the undead down, I pierced their flesh and extinguished the magic contained therein as deceivingly powerful limbs attempted to gain purchase.
An awareness tapped on my shoulder, drawing my attention to where the warlock was preparing a spell that I really didn’t want to see cast.
“ENOUGH!” I bellowed as I thrust Mjolnir to the sky and grabbed hold of the charged air between the ground and clouds. As if I were hammering a large stake into the ground, I brought my hammer down in a strike that sent violent streaks of lightning raining down from above. Bright flashes shot out in all directions like a field of strobe lights. Forks of lightning picked up every zombie on the battlefield, sending them flying through the air where they were turned to ash from the intensity of the attack.
I rushed toward the warlock at a blinding speed while wielding both of my enchanted weapons, eager to see which one would win the race to my enemy’s skull. I screamed as I sprinted, tired of this game.
The warlock cast a fearless grin my way, making me falter momentarily, before finishing his spell with a dramatic clap of his hands. A shock wave rocketed out, halting me in place while thunder echoed through the night. Wide eyes followed to where the sound was coming from. Through flashes of purple and green light, a massive figure floated toward us through the cover of clouds. It was the same demon I had seen before the annoying warlock had appeared.
“ASMODEUS! KILL THEM!” the warlock shouted with a voice that shook the air. I stopped and stared at the approaching demon…
“Wait, Asmodeus? The demon lord?” I asked the air around me as the intern inside my memory city rushed to gather intel. “Ah, shit,” escaped my mouth as the flustered employee handed a file to me. All it said on the inside was, “Asmodeus, the demon lord = bad.”
You’re fired! I yelled at my poor imaginary intern as I dropped the single page on the ground before returning to the world outside.
After shooting a scowl at the clever warlock, I turned and ran back toward Joey. His yellow eyes were cast at the sky, watching our fate descend from above with thunder as its applause.
I stopped at where my ally was and turned back toward my enemy, unable to help myself. The warlock was now flying through the fucking air toward us on a freaking winged horse made entirely of raging fire, with a demon the size of the Statue of Liberty landing just behind him. A gargantuan ring of dust flew out in all directions from where Asmodeus smashed into the ground. Uncompromising red eyes made of twin suns fixated on Joey and myself as a palm the size of a football field pointed at us. A tornado of hellfire leaped from his enormous hand to land on the ground a hundred feet from where I shit my pants.
It was surreal to see something that colossal moving. I knew a single finger could crush me into the ground like a blooming flower underfoot. That being said, a hellfire tornado would also do the trick.
I had to do something. Running was an option, but I was confident that the warlock would somehow counter me from fleeing.
Spitting on the ground with a scowl, I sheathed my katana. I focused on the earth all around me using Mjolnir and sent out tendrils of rock and sand to lash out to the warlock, demon, and tornado. It was like an earthen leviathan reaching out to grab its prey between writhing appendages.
With only a second’s thought, the warlock began casting fist-sized fireballs that slammed into and overtook the tentacles. My jaw dropped as green-and-purple waves of energy pulsated down the length of each tendril hit until they were no longer under my command. I strained with bulging veins to fight the takeover, but to no avail. I was simply overpowered and outclassed. The arms shifted direction and began falling toward where Joey and I stood.
“LET’S GO!” I yelled at Joey as I willed my own wings into reality and grabbed the were around his chest with my free arm before leaping into the night. Fleeing was my only option now, damn the consequences.
Three tentacles the size of city tunnels slammed into the ground where we had just been, sending projectiles out in all directions.
Shifting my focus from the elemental magic of earth to that of wind, I created a barrier of air to slow the rocks that were rocketing toward where Joey and I flew. It worked, but a few smaller, more aerodynamic shards pierced my defenses and smashed into Joey, who was hanging underneath me. He yelped in pain as his flesh was shredded at a handful of impact points.
The warlock changed tactics once aware of my air shield. Purple arcs of energy slashed at the air in erratic patterns, sending an explosive trail of earth from where it etched into the ground behind me. A shower of debris rained first upward and over my shield, and then back down, threatening to tear my thin wings to shreds.
The desert grew as bright as day as the tornado grew in feroci
ty and size, catching everything on the ground around it on fire. Sand turned to glass as rocks melted into glowing magma. I dared a glance back and saw that the hellfire tornado had consumed the tendrils with ease and had created a much more dangerous threat.
I had to squint at the glaring brightness of the hellfire tornado that was now swinging around lengths of stretching magma like a taffy machine. Heat waves made the mountains in the distance gyrate like suggestive belly dancers.
Asmodeus continued to stride forward, ignoring the earthen tentacles that had wrapped around his legs as if they were a small child attempting to halt the legs of an NFL linebacker.
Hot wind tore at my face, wings, and coat from the growing tornado that led the demon lord. It smelled of brimstone and death. Wind whipped around for miles, and strands of my hair, no longer protected by my beanie, lashed at my eyes.
“My beanie,” I breathed, letting the rage grow like a wildfire during a drought. I was about to turn and attack my enemies when I heard Joey whimper from the agony of having his tender belly shredded.
With a bark of frustration, I turned Joey over, hooked his front paws over my shoulders, and said, “Hold on!” as I refocused my grip on the element of air. I didn’t know how I knew what I was about to do would work, but I knew. I pulled back and then thrust the hammer forward, letting it channel the wind and carry me at impossible speeds down a custom slipstream. Air pushed at my wings, pushing me forward with unbelievable speed as Mjolnir pulled me onward.
I looked over my shoulder as the huge demon steadily shrank in the distance, bellowing in thunderous rage as we slipped into the darkness.
6
I let the slipstream fade after I felt confident that we were out of harm’s way. Letting Mjolnir fly back to my hip and fade from sight, I extended my wings to full length. I shifted Joey from one arm to the other so I could see my phone, making the were whine a high-pitched cry as I did.