Hey everyone! This is my first story for the Voltron: Legendary Defender fandom! AHHHHH and what better way to start it off than with a slapstick horror comedy AU filled with gore and violence? Ash vs. Evil Dead it is! Hope you enjoy!

NOTE: You DO NOT have to have seen any films in the Evil Dead Trilogy or have watched the Starz Original Series, Ash vs. Evil Dead. This is an AU containing the character from the Neflix Animated Series, Voltron: Legendary Defender that follows the basic story of Ash vs. Evil Dead, Season One. Although the films and show are HIGHLY recommended because they're AWESOME!

"Not just a good deal, but a Big Deal!"

He'd heard that phrase uttered day in and day out, regardless of the fact that he was just the stock boy. Granted, having only one hand made it a bit difficult, but overall, he managed.

What had happened eleven years ago still haunted him to this day, kept him up some nights, afraid to go to sleep. It had been worse before, but overall, he managed.

He'd been doing a lot of "managing" lately. Managing his one hand, managing his anxiety, managing the fact that a large portion of his normally jet black hair was now white and had been ever since the incident that had cost him his hand eleven years ago. Sometimes he liked to think it was all just a huge nightmare, but his hand and his hair told him otherwise. He hadn't sought help, because nobody would ever believe what he'd seen and what he'd gone through.

They would have to see it to believe it. And he didn't wish that on his worst enemy.

"Shirogane!"

He jumped, nearly sending the box of shampoo in his arms crashing to the floor as he looked over, seeing his manager approach. His manager was nice enough, tall, red-headed, a mustache that was too precise to not be styled with hair gel every morning and, overall, a rather eccentric personality.

"Feeling all right this morning, I take it?"

"Er… yes. I mean, no different than usual."

"Good. Then I hope you won't mind restocking the registers this evening during the graveyard shift. Nobody's ever around, so clearly, that's really the best time to do it."

He sighed, smiling a little. At least he didn't have to go home, alone. In the dark. With that book in his home…

"Yeah, sure. I-I'd love to."

"Good man! I can always count on you! I like that!"

"Me, too, Coran."

"Ah, that's Mister Coran."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Just a joke, Shiro." Coran told him, patting his shoulder, "Just finish up with the shampoo and come on up front. Lance is working tonight so you can't say you won't have someone to talk to!"

"Yeah, really." He chuckled.

"Right, then. See you in a few tics!"

He smiled a bit as Coran left before going back and stocking the shampoo, feeling a bit better about the evening.

Takashi Shirogane was, in short, a damaged man, in more ways than one. One, there was his hand, no doubt about that. Second was his psyche. He'd seen some major shit and nobody would believe him if he told them. He didn't really blame them though… it all sounded a bit ludicrous. Like something out of an 80s indie horror flick or something… but, nonetheless, it had happened. And now, he was left with the thing that had caused it all. But still, it remained, locked up tight in a chest in his home, where it couldn't be discovered or hurt anyone.

"Ay, yo, Shiro!"

Shiro turned to see one of the cashiers, a young, 18 year old by the name of Lance McClain, leaning on the magazine racks beside his register, a grin on his face as he sipped a soda he'd gotten from the machine.

"Slow night, huh?"

"You can say that again. But, I'm glad. I like the slow nights. They're peaceful."

"Mm-hmm. Nobody crazy around, looking for that one crazy deal, no ladies claiming that their 'Credit card cannot be declined do you even know who I am?' or anything." Lance mused, "Still… it is kind of eerie though. All the quiet."

"Oh, don't tell me your ass is scared."

Lance and Shiro both looked over, both of them seeing the newest member to the team, a young, 17 year old girl, her light brown hair pulled up in a ponytail, large glasses on her face.

"Scared? Pfft, me? Whatever, Pidge. You're the one who should be scared. We still haven't told you about the swamp thing that lives in back of the store in the dumpster that likes to feast on headstrong newbies."

"Very funny." Pidge told him as Shiro looked over at Lance, confused. Who was this girl?

"Lance?"

"Hmm?"

"Who's this?" Shiro asked, squinting a bit.

"Oh, her? That's just Pidge. Or, Katie, I guess you could call her. Newest cashier. Apparently a total genius. She's only 17 and graduated high school at 15. Already has an associate's degree. Can you believe that crap?"

"Whoa… how smart is she?" asked Shiro, in awe of this little, petite teenage girl.

"Pretty damn smart, Shiro. She'll probably get the Nobel Prize for breathing or something." Lance said.

"Huh…"

Shiro looked over at the girl again. Something about her just seemed… familiar, somehow. But how? He'd only just met her…

After a while of stocking the shelves, Shiro had arrived home at around a quarter to midnight, collapsing on his bed in his mobile home. Deciding that it might be better to live in than an actual house in the event that he might have to motor and leave at any second due to what had been caused recently, Shiro had decided on a nice, cozy, mobile home.

As he laid on the bed, trying to figure out why Pidge had been so familiar, he heard a knock at his door.

"What the- who can that be at this time of night?!"

He then got up and went over to the door, opening to find his elderly neighbor, Mr. Campbell at his door.

"Evenin', Shiro!"

"Mr. Campbell." Shiro said, "What a nice surprise… um… what are you doing up?"

"Oh, I just wanted to come by and warn ya. Seen some raccoons roamin' around these parts of the park, didn't want ya gettin' rabies or nothin'."

The gesture made Shiro chuckle a little as he offered a kind smile to the older man. "Well, I appreciate that, Mr. Campbell. Always looking out for me." he said, "Thank you. I'll keep an eye out. Now um... excuse me, please. I... hate to go but... I need to get my dinner started. Goodnight!"

Shiro then expected the man to reply as he began closing the door. He got a reply, just not one he'd been expecting...

"We're coming for you, Shiro."

Shriro stopped dead in his tracks. That voice... it sounded... eerily familiar... and like something... not of this world.

He then peeked between the crack in the door and let out a soft, involuntary gasp of horror as he saw Mr. Campbell, his mouth twisted into a grotesque smile, his eyes completely whited out, his teeth now jagged and dirty as he chuckled the same, deep, unearthly chuckle.

"We're here for you, Shiro. We'll get you for what you did."

Shiro then broke eye contact, the back of his neck beginning to drip with sweat as he suddenly felt sick... maybe he was seeing things?

Taking a deep breath, he opened the door to see Mr. Campbell now totally restored to normal, standing where he'd been before, smiling broadly.

"All right, man. Have a good night!" Shiro heard the older man call as he left. As the man walked back to his camper, Shiro kept watching him suspiciously. He half expected him to stare at him through the window, but, really, all he did was go and sit down, turning on his small television.

"Get it together, Shiro... you're all right... it wasn't real..."

Sighing, Shiro then closed the door. As the door closed, Shiro jumped, startled by a box that had fallen over, spilling it's contents on the floor.

"Oh, jeez..." Shiro muttered as he knelt down, picking up the assortment of books that had fallen out of the box. How could he have been so foolish? The evil was gone! And he knew it!

Then he picked it up...

The book. The book. The book that had been bound in human flesh and inked in blood... the ancient book that came from ancient Sumerians... the book that had killed his friends and colleagues eleven years ago in the woods.

And then he remembered what had happened.

Shiro had been tipsy that night, bringing home a young man in his early twenties from the bar he attended. Not for anything sexual, but simply for some company due to the fact that Shiro had felt lonely that night.

Of course, Shiro had fallen asleep, leaving the man to find something he shouldn't have found... and led him to read what should not have been read.

He remembered hearing those four words... those words that meant utter doom...

"Kunda... Estrata... Montose... Conda..."

That night, Shiro had sent the man away, locking the book away in the cupboard. He'd hardly slept a wink.

Now, he stood in his mobile-home, the book clutched in his one real hand, resting on his wooden one as he held it tight, remembering the night eleven years ago where total evil had been awakened... costing the lives of all of his colleagues and friends at that cabin... including Matt's... his boyfriend at the time.

And now, here Shiro was, eleven years later. Alone, in his mobile home, totally vulnerable for it to catch up with him... and nobody to defend him except for himself... and some weapons he'd used before... eleven years ago. He'd be woefully out of practice...

And, at that moment, Shiro swore he heard a low, guttural growl from outside, sounding as if it were getting closer, at an alarming rate...

As the growls got closer, they began to form words... words that Shiro was all too familiar with before... words he'd heard uttered to him the night his friends had died... the night he's lost his hand... the night his life had been turned upside down...

"Join Us..."

Shiro then realized what he needed to do, but not being very happy about it, uttered,

"Oh... Christ.

Uh Oh, Space Dad done screwed the pooch! Stay Tuned for Chapter Two!