PROLOGUE

My name is Ash and I am a slave. Again. This sort of thing happens every time I fall out of an interdimensional portal. I guess talking things out is too civilized for some people. Let's just chain 'em instead. Well, let me tell you, this shtick gets old quick.

For those of you just joining my tale, things weren't always like this. I had a real life once, a job at the local S-Mart, a beautiful girlfriend named Linda and a classic car. I was happy.

Then we decided to take a vacation up to an old, abandoned cabin in the woods. Big mistake. Through the Necronomicon Ex Mortis, the Book of the Dead, an unspeakable evil was unleashed. It went after Linda, and then it came for me. It got into my hand and it went bad so I lopped it off at the wrist. The entire night, boomstick in hand, chainsaw on stump, I fought off the evil dead.

In the Necronomicon, there was a passage that could dispel the evil. It opened up a vortex in time and space. Unfortunately, I couldn't stop it after the job was done and it sucked me through the portal to 14th century Europe.

That's when I was first forced into slavery. Eventually though, those screw heads saw the light and let me go, only to force me to get them the damned Book. Through a, uhh... mistranslation, an army of deadites awoke. Great, shit on me more, why dontcha fate?

Overall though, things didn't work out too bad. I got myself a shiny new hand and kicked some major demon ass. After the war, I said some magic words, Klaatu Barada uh... Nectarine or something like that, and went back to my own time.

Groovy. I had actually gotten my life on track again. I was back working housewares. It was hard dealing with Linda's death, still is, but I try not to think about it.

Well, after a while, the deadites started coming back. First it was just one of them, then two. It wasn't long before I was fending off waves of the bastards The numbers grew and grew until even I couldn't take 'em on. The last thing I remember was being surrounded completely. Then I was falling out of the sky into another sandy desert. As if that wasn't bad enough, I get up and some bitch is shoving a gun in my face.

That brings us to now.

Ash pushed himself off the ground. He was sore and instantly reminded of the last time he'd been sucked through a time space portal. He spit sand out of his mouth and lifted his head up to look around, hopefully not at Medieval Europe again.

The first thing Ash saw was four gun barrels staring him in the face. He batted the gatling gun aside.

"Wooah"

Holding the gun up was the stump of a leg. The woman that the leg belonged to had jet black hair, ruby red lips and a blank uncaring look on her face. She was dressed in a white rob lined with gold and sat upon a brown stallion. Hanging in front of her chest in a hammock was a child.

"Listen lady, I don't know about you but where I come from, we don't run around shoving guns in people's faces."

She simply stared at Ash. Behind her stood three men. The man on the left was carrying a lawnmower that was splattered red and pink with what Ash took to be blood and guts. The second man had his hands shackled and was drenched in as much blood as the lawnmower. The only thing not gore covered on him was a silver and gold star and moon hanging from his neck. The last man was holding the chains keeping the prisoner in bondage.

After several minutes of Ash looking over the four characters in front of him, and all of them staring down at him, the woman lowered her gun leg. Ash stood up and muttered, "Yeah, apology accepted lady."

Unfazed by what Ash had just said, she ordered her men, "Tie him up."

The man with the lawnmower set it down on the ground and started towards Ash carrying a pair of shackles.

"Hey Billy Bob, back off pal."

Before the lackey now labeled 'Billy Bob' could cuff Ash, a group of what looked like people burst out into the clearing from behind the surrounding rocks and flora, babbling jibberish. Their skin was a bulging rainbow of colors, greens, reds, blues and blacks. They foamed at the mouth and every other part of them oozed pus.

"Deadites"

With blazing speed, Ash threw his metal fist into his duffle bag and fit his chainsaw to his stump. He drew his boomstick and turned towards the closest zombie. BAM! BAM! The top half of it's head blew clean off, splattering blood everywhere.

Before the body even hit the ground, Ash had two new shells in his gun and was snapping it back in place. He found his next target and ripped a hole through it's stomach with a pull of the trigger.

"That's a little hard to digest, isn't it?"

Before he had a chance to reload, a zombie jumped up at Ash from behind. He whirled around, putting up his chainsaw in defense. The zombie landed on it, driving it through his chest. With a pull of the chord, the chainsaw started up and shredded the zombie's insides, blood and tissue and organs flying every which way.

"Ouuuuuch. Talk about heartburn."

At this wisecrack, Ash heard a clanky whirring noise behind him. He turned to see the gun barrels of the robed woman's legs starting to spin faster and faster.

Ash dove for the ground. Above him bullets tore past for what seemed like hours on end. The creature's ranted in nonsensical languages and hissed and screamed. Bullets blasted into them and they crashed to the ground, dead again.

After an eternity the gunfire stopped. Ash got up, slowly, looking around. All of the deadites were dead. He replaced the chainsaw with his hand and walked over to the four strangers, pointing a metal finger at the woman.

"Look, I don't know who you are but I don't exactly think-"

The woman cut Ash off, "Names Cherry, Cherry Wray," and kicked him in the head with her gun leg. Ash dropped to the ground unconscious.