Martha
Pentagram City, Hell. January 8th 2020.
After Episode 1: "Murder Family"
Portland Oregon, 1988
The light of glowing fireflies reflected off the chocolate brown irises of a young blonde soul. She was a curious, restless little white girl of three, loved equally by her parents. Her blonde hair bounced in excitement and her lavender mini dress twirled gracefully as she danced along in the park. A tender motherly hand pat her on the head, both parents smiling warmly down at her.
They watched from a bench as she swung on swings and slid down the slide with a few other kids. The setting sun turned the sky a brilliant orange, with several shades of salmon painted in. The crickets were beginning to sing their chirping tunes and a few fireflies were dotted here and there.
"Time to go home, darling!" the mother called after several minutes.
The girl laughed.
"Try and catch me!"
With playful grins, both parents raced after her, bounding through the grass. The evening breeze blew against her locks as she turned this way and that. Her laughter mixed with her mother's and father's, creating a symphony of innocence and carefree joy. White dandelions floated in the breeze…soft snowflakes for the girl to occasionally grasp with her tiny fingers.
Up ahead stood a small white picket fence that separated the playground and park from the outside world. Close to being cornered, the girl instead crawled on all fours underneath the fence, her small form allowing her access to the other side. Triumphant, the girl continued her run, unaware of her parents stopping short behind the fence. A vast wood stood before her.
Looks of sheer horror morphed suddenly on their faces.
"Martha! Don't go in there!"
Deaf to their words, she continued on, passing through the shadows of the trees. Her parent's calls and rapid footsteps grew fainter the deeper she went. Trekking and traveling through the twisted trails, she slowed down more until pausing for breath.
"Ha! I win!"
An echo of her words soon lost to the foliage and cool air. A deathly silence in contrast to the previous playing. The trees towered over the girl, surrounding her on all sides. She glanced around. Bluish fog obscured her surroundings, trees and branches appearing as swaying shadows.
Sprigs, needles and sticks snapped under her feet as she wandered forward. She wasn't sure which direction she had come from. Her former fun had turned to fear.
"Mama! Mama!"
The only response was bird chirps and the whisper of the wind. Darkness was closing in fast, casting intricate shadows of leaves, branches and whatever else lurked in a forest at night. Hairs stood up on her neck as creaks and thumps sounded in the night. The wood was alive…and watching. An owl hooted in warning as she lifted her legs over a small log…and was greeted by a faint glow in the distance.
Compulsion and curiosity overtook her.
Step.
Step.
Step.
The light grew brighter, promising help and refuge from the watching wood. A continuous humming buzzed in her ears. A strange rumble of a sound. Low chanting voices in symphony.
Step.
Step.
Stop.
Peering around the corner of an aging oak, the girl saw a most peculiar sight.
Hanging above on branches were wooden symbols made of sticks painted red. Some were tied in eye shapes, others in various crosses. Several pentagrams were painted in blood on trees and nearby boulders. A confederate flag blew in the breeze near a ten-foot burning wooden cross erected in the ground. A group of figures in long dark hoods were standing in a six foot circle, some holding swords and some holding torches in their pale hands. A few of them had concealed guns. In the center of the circle was a large altar made of black onyx. The leader in the center wore an elaborate red robe and a red goat mask with curved thick horns. Somehow, the dyed fur and the frozen mouth of the mask looked a little too real. His necklace and belt were made of human skulls. "Bless this mess" was written on dried human skin tacked to a nearby tree trunk.
The girl's eyes grew wide as she caught a glimpse of something squirming on the altar.
No, someone.
A naked woman with black hair, held in place by several hooded figures. They gripped her arms and legs so she couldn't move.
"Stop! Let me go, le…"
She whimpered before a hard slap to her face made her fall silent. Bruises lined her body, many of them visible near her nether regions. Rough hands briefly slithered across her skin, painfully kneading her round breasts despite her groans of protest. Streams of sticky semen were ejaculated onto the altar.
The leader then held a gold chalice just above the woman's bare stomach, dark crimson blood sloshing slightly inside the cup. The dark priest chanted in what sounded like Latin…his eyes briefly glowing red from under his mask. He took a few sips from the cup before setting it aside. The men pulled painfully at her arms and legs, emitting blood curdling screams and the tearing of joints.
"Our Inferno Lord of Chaos, ruler of Wrath who goes by many names: Satan, Lucifer, Dis, Aiwass, Samael, Apophis, Moloch, Mephistopheles…accept this unholy offering as testament of our daily diabolical ways. You shall be called upon this world to bless us with thy unfathomable power! Satan salvete!"
"Hail Satan!" the followers repeated the chant in unison. "May thy work be honored as we remake this world in the fires of destruction. Do what thou will shall be the whole of the Law."
Anticipating silence.
A flash of metal glinted in the torchlight as a ritual knife appeared in the leader's hands. He raised it up over his head before bringing it down in a graceful arc.
The little girl's gasp was overshadowed by the squelching and screams coming from the victim. The stabbing continued until the female victim struggled no more. Her soul exited her body after a last ragged breath. Rivers of thick blood slowly rolled down the altar sides and onto the ground.
A bone-chilling quiet followed right after the sacrifice.
Her gasp, still audible to the demonic coven.
Ever so slowly, the leader turned in the girl's direction, removing the bloodstained knife. As if on cue, the other members robotically turned their heads toward her. Her wide eyes caught reflections of animal masks partially obscured by the darkness of their hoods.
Thump.
She bumped into another figure from behind her and was roughly seized. Struggling with her legs and arms, she screamed out loud. Her cries were merely swallowed up by the darkness around her.
"A fresh blond pup all alone…I'd love a good taste of that…"
"She must never tell…she's witnessed too much…"
The harsh and curious whispers suffocated her. The smell of smoke and rotting flesh assaulted her nostrils. A flash of a dagger was brought up to her neck.
In the blink of an eye, the leader appeared in front of them, holding up a hand. A turn of a red goat head to two bulky figures wearing clown masks. More kicks and screams and cries for her mama to rescue her.
A dark sack appeared in four meaty hands. She was forcefully shoved inside, enveloped by rough cloth on all sides. The sounds of jeers rang out as she was lifted up and carried away.
0 0 0
Hard cardboard. Cramped darkness. Eyes slowly opening.
"W-where am I?"
No light, save for the sliver of brightness from the cardboard box corners.
Little Martha pushed against the walls of the box…they were taped securely shut.
"Hey! Let me outta here!"
The flaps of the box were opened…a masked face staring down at her.
"Who are you?" Martha asked in fear.
A feminine sounding voice…cold.
"Tell me your name first."
"M-Martha," she answered.
"Martha, I'm your new Mother. Your conversion training begins now. Resist and you'll meet Big Sleep."
"Wait, what? I don't wanna take any naps..." Martha began, but the woman had vanished.
0 0 0
The devious cult had managed to evade the police for several years. The few members who had been arrested were eventually freed, allowing them to reunite with other members. Martha's heartbroken parents assumed she was dead when the police searched the forest and came back with nothing. Both parents felt guilty that they had let their daughter go that far. Perhaps if they had continued on longer, they would've found her.
But they, too, had heard the rumors of a cult that took no one alive who entered the woods. Any babies or children who entered had their blood made into pastries for the cult messengers to use against their Jewish neighbors. Being scared to go in deeper, the parents had called the cops instead…but by then, Martha had vanished completely.
A new fence was put into place in front of the forest to endure that no one would wander into it again. (But of course, that didn't stop the few daredevils from taking leaps of faith over the structure.) The majority of the curious travelers never returned. Those who managed to make it back out were never the same.
Age 5
Martha was nestled in a secret small building meticulously concealed by trees, rocks and the forest floor. After listening to a long lecture about the dangers of the outside world, Martha was rewarded with candy, crayons and drawing paper. She scribbled to her heart's content, trying to ignore the eyes watching her every move.
"Ta-da!"
When she was done, she held up a stick figure drawing of her and her parents.
One of the members wore black clothing and metal necklaces. Martha's "Mother" who went by Mama Naamah, strolled over, her hair long, curly and black. She stared at the drawing with soulless gray eyes and ripped it from her hands. Martha began to sob as pieces of paper littered the floor.
"Cease your crying at once, child," Naamah chided.
Martha continued until Naamah roughly shook her."Your former family is dead, ya hear me?"
"No, they're not! T-they're waiting for me. I miss them."
"Enough, Martha."
"I miss them! Take me back, please!"
Naamah grabbed her by her shirt collar. "No. I am your mama. This…is your new family."She mentioned to the other (stereotypical) Satanists in the room, including several young boys casually skinning rabbits with pocket knives. "We took you in several years ago. And your former parents left you behind without a care in the world. You are much better off staying here."
Naamah then turned to the cult leader, who wore a deer skull over his face.
"Father Satanachia, she is persistent in her resistance. She'll hinder our progress if she's not properly tamed."
"Which is why I assigned you to be her guardian," he replied. "You know the minds of the young more than anyone. Martha will learn what is required in time. Keep teaching her…I have a feeling this little dame will do great things."
"Yes, sir."
Naamah took Martha by the hand and led her to a spot by a circle in an adjacent chamber. The circle was lined with candles and a pentagram was positioned in the center. Several other members stood to watch.
Before her very eyes, Martha watched a ritual sacrifice of a live white sheep. The animal's hooves were tied together, its fur marked with a sigil of Satan in blood. Taped on the wall was a sigil of Baphomet on a black flag. A figurine of Lucifer with a white top hat, apple cane and white outfit stood on a desk. The priest, Samyaza, conducted weekly rituals, including the current one. With long blonde hair, Samyaza called upon the demonic kings of the four directions and elements.
Sword to the East…
Torch to the South…
Chalice to the West…
Pentacle to the North…
No pagan deities were mentioned…only demon nobility. A twisted version of Wiccan rituals.
"Great Amaymon, King of the West, on behalf of our Lord Satan, accept this offering…"
After numerous references to texts, Martha shielded her eyes when the beast was slaughtered.
"You'd do well to watch without fear," Naamah mentioned. "There'll be plenty more of these to witness."
Martha covered her eyes some more as several members stripped off their clothes and began to fornicate after the ceremony was over.
Age 6
Martha sat at a table in anticipation. She was in a small squat building hidden within the trees and bushes in a darker part of the forest. Outside stood various tents, a campfire and a pen to hold animals, kids and intruders. All of them would eventually become food.
"I have a surprise for you, dear," said Mama Naamah.
Martha's eyes brightened as the woman held a barking white puppy in her hands.
"Aww, he's so cute!" Martha beamed, petting the pup and standing up. He licked her face several times as she held him in her arms. After playing with the puppy for around ten minutes, Naamah called Martha back.
"Are you ready for the next part?"
"Sure am!" Martha smiled.
Naamah revealed a strange grin as she held out her arms. The look on her face instinctively made Martha hold onto her furry friend tightly.
"What's wrong, Martha? I need to see the puppy."
Martha shook her head. "Let me play for a few more minutes, please."
"I need it for the next part."
Martha backed away, the puppy's tail wagging ceased.
"Give me the puppy."
Martha shook her head faster and faster.
In the blink of an eye, the puppy was snatched from Martha's small arms.
"Hey!"
The puppy squirmed in the woman's arms but was soon held down by its paws with tight rope. The deadly glint of a dagger appeared from Naamah's side.
Martha's eyes grew wide. "What are you doing, Mama?"
"Teaching you how to take your first soul," she drawled.
Naamah was showing her how to skin the bounded white puppy. The knife tip met flesh before a high pitched whine froze Martha's chest. The creature whimpered loudly as red blood poured from a fresh wound.
"Stop, you're hurting him!" Martha cried.
"Watch my hand movements carefully," Naamah explained, ignoring the cries of pain and protests. "You'll grow accustomed to any screams and cries in the future." The puppy's eyes constricted, his mouth agape, body shaking and twisting. Demonic crimson against angelic white. After more blood pooled on the table, Naamah handed her the knife.
"Your turn."
With a shaking hand, Martha took hold of the knife handle. Her whole body shook under her instructor's piercing gaze.
"Start anywhere, I'll help you as you go along," the woman said.
Martha stood, paralyzed and helpless. The puppy's eyes pleaded for freedom and a release from agony.
"Martha, I'm waiting…"
"I...I…"
She closed her eyes, knife tip pointed toward the small gaping wound.
Martha at last yelled and dropped the knife. It fell with a clattered onto the floor. Tears spilled down her face.
"I can't do it!"
Naamah paused. "I beg your pardon?"
"Y-you heard me!"
With a ruthless karate chop of her hand, Naamah promptly crushed the puppy's throat while staring coldly at Martha.
"Then you have failed your first test. And failure comes with consequences."
Martha was promptly tossed inside the ominous cardboard box, left for several hours without food or water. She curled into a ball and cried in the dark.
"Mama. My real Mama. I miss you. Help me."
Everything was silent for a while.
"Your former parents left you behind without a care in the world."
The statement crossed her mind multiple times. Was that true? Martha couldn't remember what exactly happened back then. She didn't know why her parents weren't looking for her now. Maybe they had given up on her. Or worse… maybe they were…
She dreaded the thought of more sacrifices.
Tweet!
Zap!
A shrill of a whistle jolted her from her thoughts. And something else jolted her as well.
An electric shock to her back from a small hole in the cardboard.
"Owww!"
She peered around with wide eyes in the dark, but saw nothing. After five minutes, the same thing happened again. The whistle and then the zap.
Martha nervously waited for more, but none came. She found it difficult to breathe, like the walls were choking her. Loud gasping breaths, clawing at the walls. Strained yells and cries.
"I'm gonna die in here."
A kick came from outside the box.
"No use fighting it, newbie," a girl spat.
"Best behave yourself or you'll be the next dissection specimen," a boy added with a chuckle.
"Loser," added another kid before the group walked away.
After what seemed like forever, she was finally lifted out of the box by Naamah. Martha gasped for breath, flinching at the brightness of the overhead florescent lights. She was led to the cafeteria. A tray of peas, corn, blackened carrots and pork was set in front of her at a small table.
Martha made a face. "I don't wanna eat this stuff!"
"Either that, or you can share a new snack I helped cook up."
Sitting beside her were two boys and a girl wearing brown clothing like she was. They were laughing and eating meat around what looked like…
A skull of a dog.
The kids stared at her and rolled their eyes. One kid made a face at her after she promptly peed her pants. Another girl was holding what was left of the puppy's heart. She placed it in a bowl next to a distorted statuette that appeared to be a hybrid of Satan and an Egyptian death god. A black dog, a tan cat and a naked man were all crucified on a nearby wall made of brick.
Martha had never eaten her vegetables more feverishly.
0 0 0
Age 8
Martha had finally caved in and plunged a knife into a brown rabbit after being trapped in the box several times. She dreaded suffocating in the dark and hearing that ominous whistle sound. One robed figure showed her the silver whistle and a taser in their hand as a warning against recklessness.
"You've been improving significantly," Naamah praised.
Just the last week, Martha had memorized the ritual chants and steps, and could recite the cult's Satanic motto with her eyes closed. The other kids didn't shun her anymore, but rather included her in their various tasks. One of the older teen boys even taught her how to hold and use a gun outside.
Of course, Martha also had to partake in various chores, washing bloodstained shirts, disposing bodies, consecrating ritual tools and most importantly, maintain a prim and proper persona when going beyond the boundaries.
"Keep up a beautiful, innocent appearance," Naamah told her. She had also repeated this advice to Martha when she was a teen. "Sway your hips, flutter your eyelashes just so. Out there, you're the perfect future housewife."
Sometimes, Martha would get dressed up, go into town with another member and persuade other people to "join a brand new cause, dedicated to donations and goodwill." Either several more people joined them or more murders would be reported.
The cultists were hiding in plain sight indeed.
But the most beguiling and dreadful advice she got could not be put into words. It would change her personality for the rest of her life.
0 0 0
Martha was led into a dimmed room with candles flickering around and rose petals on the floor.
"It is time for you to experience life's greatest pleasures and one of the most devious sins," Naamah said. "You'll get better over time, trust me."
With a strange wink, she shrank back and locked the door behind her.
"I never thought I would meet another Duchess of the Devil so soon," rumbled a low voice.
Turning over on the red satin bed was a man with long blonde hair, in his early thirties. He was displaying his bare muscular chest, black boxers and several rings on his fingers.
It was Samyaza.
"Greetings, bright young student. Martha, correct?"
She nodded.
"I'm Father Samyaza. Naamah has been teaching you well these days. But there's always new concepts to learn. Now that you're growing up, I think it's time I show you something less abstract and more…touchy-feely."
He patted the spot on the bed next to him and beckoned for Martha to come to him. She slowly walked over in confusion.
"Why are we so close in a bedroom? It's not nap time."
"Perhaps not. But let's say that just like sleep, it's a moment to…expand the imagination."
He revealed a lecherous grin as he pulled her close into a hug. At first, the embrace was comforting and warm. Mama Naamah almost never gave her hugs. He ran his fingers around her back and tugged at her clothes.
"Let's make ourselves more comfortable, shall we?"
Martha's confusion deepened as she flinched back. "What are you doing?"
His fingers quickened their pace as he pulled off her brown shirt and pants. Her naked vulnerable body shivered.
"Wait a minute," Martha said. "This is not what I…"
She was briefly silenced by a large sloppy wet kiss, thick hands holding her face in place. A large tongue ran in her mouth and across her cheeks, making her gag.
"Urgh, that's gross!" Martha sputtered, flinching back and spitting several times. One large hand caressed her chest, the other feeling her bare bottom.
"So young and innocent you are. Count yourself lucky, little succubus."
He let out a hum of pleasure as he pressed his thick body against her.
"Leave me alone!"
Martha wailed and kicked with her bare legs, desperate to escape the monster before her. Samyaza roughly pulled her back.
"I can't enjoy myself with all your squirming," he warned. "This is a special rite of passage for our youth. In Lord Satan's name, you will cooperate."
Martha cried out as the shrill whistle sound made her freeze in place. Naamah had returned. She held the whistle menacingly to her lips.
"The box is always waiting for you dear," she mentioned.
Not the box. Anything but the box again.
"Lie still, my acolyte," Samyaza commanded.
Martha cried at the top of her lungs, her chest being crushed as she was pinned down. Elongated flesh rammed inside her, filling her with a hot mess. All she could do was cry and wait for the violation to cease. His odor stuck to her skin, hands squeezing the innocence and life out of her. A stain of blood was visible on the sheets. His cries of pleasure mixed with her cries of pain.
The last thing she saw before passing out was Naamah's emotionless nod of approval before turning on her heels out the door.
0 0 0
Age 14
Seeing crimson blood, organs and viscera became a daily occurrence for Martha. Using knives, guns, axes and a variety of weapons, she ruthlessly killed human victims as well as animals. "The more sinful acts you commit within our rules," Satanicha told her, "the more powerful you will become in Satan's eyes. It applies to all of us. We continue His work so that this world can be remade in His image of chaos."
Even though Martha became desensitized by all the gruesome violent acts, she still didn't expect to have to do something so dehumanizing, it disgusted her to no end.
After pushing hard and yelling in a sacred spot outside, Martha gave birth to a healthy baby. She didn't know whether it belonged to the leader or Samyaza or any other male around. But she did know she'd have to care for it…
"Cut it up and eat its flesh during the next ritual," Samyaza commanded, walking over.
Martha stared agape and bewildered. "You want me to fucking what?!"
"You heard me, acolyte slut," Satanicha scoffed. "Babies will only become a burden and may alert unwanted attention."
"But it's my child! Plus, you all took me in when I was little, too!"
"Your training's not complete yet. You still need to learn how to impart our ways to future generations, then onto your own children. But for now, you still gotta learn to submit and sin. Our way."
Martha protested some more, and got a dose of new bruises and slaps in the process.
Satanicha got into her face, the goat mask only revealing red eyes and sharp teeth. "Dispose of it. Or I'll do it for you."
Martha tearfully nodded and gulped silently before the leader grunted and continued on his way.
At the ritual, the baby was placed on an altar in an ornate bowl with sigils on it. The hooded members parted to let Martha pass. She hesitantly held a ritual dagger in her hands. From behind her, one man aimed a gun at her back in warning, while a stern Naamah waved a silver whistle in Martha's line of sight.
Martha stared down at her little bundle of joy. The baby cooed and stared at her with wide bright eyes. The baby stared at Martha lovingly like she was the Virgin Mary. She took a breath and hid more tears.
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry…"
0 0 0
Age 18
"Compulsion. Flower. Ten. Musical. Fire. Twenty eight. Promiscuous. Has-been. Ninety two. Forest. Acolyte?"
A young Martha stood with an evil grin before her masters. Her thoughts had instantly switched from genuine terror to a detached compliance. The specific words were always spoken to her before important missions. As part of her training, Martha had also learned to go into deep trances to "further connect with the demonic divine." Her previous memories of her real parents had all been forgotten. All she knew now was obedience, sin and a daily risk of death.
"I await my orders."
"Proceed to Liber Act 66. Seventeen hundred in the town square."
Later on that day, Martha and several others her age had successfully murdered half a dozen people at random. Their bodies were hauled back into the woods and placed on makeshift wooden crosses. With precision and a pose, Martha cut out the heart of one of the dead men and stuffed it into her mouth. Her clothes were covered in blood as she removed bones to be used in later rituals. The human skin was sewed up for clothing, furniture surfaces and decoration. The bones and skulls too, had uses in decoration and jewelry as well as in death rituals. For Martha, killings and sexual encounters soon became mere ordinary tasks.
Humans and animals and even demons were all the same…hunks of blood, flesh and bone to feed Satan's appetites. Martha was fortunate enough to gain popularity in both the cult and the outside world.
To celebrate their victory, the cult had a major Mid-Summer feast, complete with bonfires, black metal music, Black Masses and lots of orgies. Pushing aside her memories of ritual rape and abuse, Martha proceeded to dominate any willing male member that came up to her. All throughout her teen years and early adulthood, Martha would fornicate with many different men, getting hooked by the stimulating sexual feelings. Like a seductive succubus, she kept going…it was never enough. Martha became proud of her titles: Mama Martha, Mistress Martha, Devil's Duchess, Satan's Succubus, Prostitute of Paimon, the list went on.
"I'm proud of you, Mistress Martha," Naamah said. "In fact, we can all say you're a hero."
"You're a hero! You're a hero! Hail Satan!" the members cheered.
To the cult's dismay, their leader was reported to have been arrested in broad daylight after torturing a puppy while naked and drunk.
"Our messengers revealed that he escaped prison," Samyaza said.
"Great!" said Martha with enthusiasm. "Where is he?"
"Um. About that…"
0 0 0
Three pairs of glowing yellow eyes stared at Satanicha in the darkness.
"What the?" he peered at the figures. "You're…Satan's filthy slaves!"
"Yeah, that's fucking rude," spoke the leader in the middle. He was an imp with a red and white face and long curved horns. "From what I can gather, you're that pedophile preachy asshole we were sent to kill."
Blitzo, Moxxie and Millie, appeared, with weapons in their hands.
Satanicha cackled, his white face, short brown hair and brown beard dirty. "You've got the wrong man. Besides, I don't need shitty slave devils to tell me what's what. Now if you'll excuse me…"
He stepped forward, but Blitzo blocked him. Both the leader and Blitzo aimed their guns at each other.
"Don't move," they said at the same time. "Stop coping me!" they said again. They pointed at each other, and scowled "fuck you!" with a bunch of gibberish speak.
"Ugh we don't have time for this," Moxxie groaned. He took one of Millie's dark swords and sliced at the leader's leg. The leader managed to nick Blitzo in the shoulder with a bullet before he wobbled to the ground in pain.
Twenty minutes later, they had crucified the man to a cross. Millie giggled as she held a torch near a pile of wood underneath.
"Yeah, how perfect is this?" Blitzo asked him with a smug expression. "You being the Satanic savior, now getting ready to meet your maker."
"You fuckers won't get away with this!" spat Satanicha, who muttered some dark prayers.
"You've gotten away with shit too long!" Moxxie spat. "You've brainwashed an entire group of people, not to mention abusing and raping children for the sake of sin!"
Moxxie glanced at a tattoo of a naked winged woman on the man's chest, a Nazi flag on his arm and a KKK symbol on his leg.
"Yeah, he's gotta go," Millie mentioned, with a look of disgust.
Satanicha laughed nervously. "My cult members are gonna come after you. Even in Hell. You'll have a huge bounty on your heads once Satan and company find out about the trouble you caused in both worlds!" Then he added, "I've read the Satanic Bible and Crowley's Law six times."
"Go to Hell, asshole," Blitzo said. "Oh wait you alread…"
Satanicha smirked at Millie. "Hey, devil babe. You know it's not too late to change your mind. I have a special position for sexy whores like you to…"
"Kiss my ass, creep!"
"Gladly."
Millie bared her teeth and tossed the torch onto the logs. The three imps grinned as the leader's look turned to terror. The wooden cross ignited with the cult leader attached to it.
"Well done, gang!" Blitzo praised as the cult leader screamed and burned away. "You know, I've been thinking that there's a good reason we assassins exist…"
0 0 0
"Oh. Well, shit," Martha replied.
"Well, you've completed all the demonic levels of ascension," Naamah said. "And with more of us getting arrested each year…may as well elect a new leader. A High Priestess, perhaps."
She winked at Martha."This beguiling bitch is perfect for the role!"
Martha blushed with pride.
"By the power vested in me by our Chaos Lord Satan, Lucifer, Dis, etc," said Naamah, placing the red goat mask in Martha's hands, "I now proclaim you, Martha, Devil's Duchess and high magi of the Southern Stereotypical Satanic cult of Oregon!"
"Oh thank you!" Martha beamed in her nude glory as the hooded figures vocalized and kneeled before her.
Later in the night as she praised herself for an initiation well done, Naamah glimpsed and saw a portal when she was out patrolling the forest perimeters. She raised her eyebrows in suspicion. She turned around and was met with Blitzo pointing a flintlock pistol at her face.
"Naamah…stay."
The promiscuous priestess dropped dead after a single shot blasted her brains out.
0 0 0
Age 21
Unfortunately for Martha and the cult, the cult's numbers did disappear over time (and not just from I.M.P.) The remaining members schemed away from prying police and public eyes, until they were largely obscure. Soon, Martha was the only active cult member left.
Martha met a strong handsome man one day in the woods. He had brown hair, was muscular and often wore plaid shirts. He chopped up wood with an ax, hunted game and lived in a nearby cabin. As Martha did with other men, she put her best foot forward.
And like other men, he grew deeply attached to her.
Perhaps too attached, since after several months, he said, "I wanna marry you."
Of course, Martha said "Yes!"
Soon after, Ralphie and Martha were happily married and had a boy and girl of their own. Living in a cabin by a lake, Martha indoctrinated her children on the ways of cannibalism, weapons and murder. They were eager fast learners like their mother had been. To adapt to the outside world, Martha posed as a sexy preacher, gun right's activist and a host of Martha's Charitable Charity TV show. Her charm and manipulation tactics had worked wonders over the years. After Ralphie stumbled across the cult's concealed location by accident, Martha revealed her secret, telling him to join her on pain of death. Ralphie happily accepted, as did her children. But little did Ralphie know that Martha happily committed adultery, sodomy and had sex with many other men behind her husband's back.
One such man was Jarold, husband of teacher Mrs. Mayberry.
0 0 0
On Earth, January 8th, 2020, Mrs. Mayberry and her students gathered around a boxy computer. At the husband's house, a lone sock fell on the call screen that read "wifey" on it.
The screen turned on, and everyone gasped in disbelief.
The teacher's husband was in the process of having sex with another lady!
A tie, a bra and a condom flew against the screen as they straddled naked in their bed.
"We won't be needing this," a voice said as the condom hit the screen with Mrs. Mayberry's face on the other side.
Mrs. Mayberry sat at her desk, looking stunned, her face turning red. The other woman was so young and beautiful. There was her husband, clad naked and showing off his muscles and parts to her.
"Oh yeah," the husband giggled, "Not there, not there." They seemed to be also playing with sex toys.
With a blank shadowed look on her face, the teacher suddenly stood up and walked away. If she wasn't going to be able to divorce that cheating bastard…
"Wait! Mrs. Mayberry!" called the brown haired girl. She took hold of the teacher's hand. "Remember what you taught us…think before you act."
Dark thoughts suddenly festered within the woman and she gripped the girl's neck before tossing her up in the air through the roof. She stomped out of the room and shut the door. The children ran to the window to watch as she got in her old green car and plowed through a white picket fence. "I love school" was on her license plate. The children rushed to the computer.
The door to the bedroom was quickly pulled open.
"Oh shit, sweetie!" said her husband, caught in the act of fucking the young lady on their master bed. "What are you doing here?"
"Shut up, Jarold!" A newfound rage flared in her eyes. A deadly looking riffle was in her hands. She fired several shots.
The blonde lady shrieked as Mrs. Mayberry moved closer.
"You scream like a bitch!" the teacher mentioned to the blonde haired lady.
With a demonic yell, she brutally shot the younger woman across multiple areas of her body. Thick blood splattered everywhere.
Her husband gasped. "Oh god, what have you done?! Sh-She had a family!"
"We could've had a family!" the teacher sobbed, in a flood of despair and rage. She picked up a bullet and shot her husband square in the head. He collapsed to the floor, dead.
"Oh god, what have I done?" she asked, frazzled, whipping away the blood from the screen. She saw her children stare in horror and disgust. "In front you all." She broke down into tears, seeing her dead husband in a pool of blood. She spoke her last words through sobs. "I'm so sorry my children. Don't forget to work on your timestamps."
Mrs. Mayberry knew there was nothing left for her but jail time and grief. There was only one other option. With shaking hands, she shot herself in the chest with a yelp. The children fainted on the floor one by one at the traumatizing sight. The policeman took the wailing blonde lady to the hospital…and found Mrs. Mayberry's body lying next to her husband's on the blood-stained floor.
The blonde lady Martha stared lovingly with a brown uncovered eye at her new muscular husband Ralphie wearing an orange plaid shirt. He had brown hair and an athlete/superhero build. Their two children stood by her bedside as she recovered. The room had bouquets of colorful flowers in every corner. Camera flashed as news reporters talked to her.
"How does it feel to have survived such a crazy bitch?" a newswoman asked.
"I just hope that sick woman finally found peace," Martha drawled in her hospital bed.
Her husband comforted her, head lowered.
"You are so brave," the reporter commended to Martha. "Here's $2 million dollars!"
The woman's face lit up as she was handed a large golden check. "Oh thank you!" She smiled at the cameras with her husband like she was a movie star. She was the host of talk shows and did donations as well.
Martha did dramatic movements and facial expressions as she told her story on stage.
"There I was, having a lovely time with my companion when all of a sudden…"
She clapped loudly, making the audience gasp.
"This dark shadowy figure bursts into the room, out for blood. She's holding a chainsaw and a gun and aims them right at us!"
"What did you do?" asked an audience member.
"Of course, I got out of bed and stood my ground. I was like, "No one's gonna ruin my special day. I stood between the bitch and Jarold, my fists at the ready.
"'I'll call the police!' I warned her. "But then…"
She pointed to her bandaged parts of her body. "She let out this diabolical laugh as she slashed the chainsaw right into me!"
One of the audience members fainted.
"As I was moving toward unconsciousness, I managed to weakly dial 911. To my horror, there was a loud bang, and she had killed him! By the time the police arrived, both of them were dead and I passed out."
"Oh my goodness!" exclaimed the VNN announcer.
"The next thing I knew, I woke up in the hospital, with my lovely husband and children beside me. I'm so thankful they didn't get hurt."
"We are too!" said the audience.
"That is why, I'm now teaching my own class to help children like my own. "How to Deal with Trauma 101." And I have my own charity: Martha's Charitable Charity to help those who've been through events like me!"
"How brave you are!" said the announcer.
"If I can survive such a horrible event, there's nothing we can't do if we work together!"
The audience clapped and cheered and camera flashed.
"Three cheers for our new hero Martha! Hip hip hooray!"
The stereotypical America family lived in a house near the woods and by a lake. Martha dressed like a housewife with a long polka dot skirt. Her daughter had brown pigtails, a lavender shirt with a tie, and a red skirt, with boots. The younger boy had a beaver-skin cap, a white shirt, brown pants and camouflage boots. On the outside, they were the perfect typical family.
"You're a hero," said more news people as she stood elegantly at a VNN (Vivienne News Network) podium.
"You're a hero, girl," admired a brown skinned jogger passing Martha by. Martha basked in the attention and wealth. Who knew that getting shot at would change her life for the better.
"My mama's a hero!" declared the son.
"She is a hero!" The brown haired casher Brook agreed down to him as the family went grocery shopping.
"Ooooh…You're a hero!" moaned her husband as he thrust his penis wildly in and out of her as they made love in their bedroom. Their walls were covered with pelvises and newspaper clippings of Martha under "local hero" headings.
"You're a hero," smiled an old praying priest who stood by her at one church meeting.
Even worse for Mayberry, a new class of children cheered, "You're a hero!" to Martha when she taught a "How to deal with trauma 101 class."
"Oh you're a hero!" another man groaned as he wildly gave her anal.
0 0 0
All three imps stood in front of a small red house by the lake as the sun set. Blitzo and Moxxie leaned against the side of the house, rising from the bushes. Blitzo stood up and peered into a window. A row of white flowers were on a planter on the ledge.
"That's gotta be her," Blitzo whispered. He then chuckled darkly. "This is too easy." He looked over at Moxxie. "Moxxie, do you want this one?"
Moxxie looked stunned and smiled nervously. "Me?"
"Yeah, this one's simple enough for you to handle. It's just a happy mother who just got out of the hospital."
Moxxie stood up and looked through the window. His face fell as he looked at the happy family enjoying dinner. A pig's head was at the center of the table. The house was decorated with axes and guns on the walls. A lamp stand seemed to be made out of a spinal column. Ralphie and Martha affectionately rubbed each other's noses, Martha holding a dinner platter in her hand. Moxxie hesitated; there was no way he could kill any one of them.
"You snooze you lose, Mox!" Blitzo called out.
He got out his gun, which was black with flames painted on it. The reflector was an upside down cross and it hovered over Martha's face. She smiled with large doe eyes and blinked innocently.
"And I've got you, bitch," Blitzo murmured.
"Wait, are we actually killing a family?!" Moxxie asked in disbelief.
"No, don't be a puss, we're just killing a mother," Blitzo remarked. "We're running a family." He grinned and clicked his rifle, positioning it.
"But…" Moxxie began. "Hold on, hold on, let's just think about it…"
Moxxie lifted up the rifle just before Blitzo fired. The bullet hit a glass mirror in the house, causing the family members to gasp in fear.
"What was that, Ralphie?" Martha asked her husband, who sat at the table.
Ralphie shook his head. "I don't know Martha, but whatever it is…"
He stood up with a sharp-toothed grin, holding a rifle in his hands.
"They're gonna be tomorrow night's dinner!"
Martha set the platter down on the table, downed a glass of wine and smashed the glass on the floor.
"Alright, kids! Gun's out!" She called with an evil grin. The kids, too, grinned evilly as they pulled out smaller guns. The boy pulled out his from his brown beaver-skin hat.
"Looks like we've got some rabbits to catch, youngins!" Ralphie said with an evil chuckle.
Back outside, Blitzo was fuming. "What the fuck was that, Moxxie?"
Moxxie breathed anxiously before letting out a croak, his snake-like tongue flickering. He fell to his knees, hands over his face.
"I'm sorry. They just seemed so wholesome and happy." Tears fell from his eyes. "I panicked."
Blitzo face-palmed. "Oh who the fuck is innocent, Moxxie? From the moment of birth, you're already a parasite leeching off your momma's tits."
He grabbed his chest in an imitation of holding breasts. He leaned in and poked Moxxie painfully on the head. "Now get the fuck over yourself you baby dick prune!"
A bullet fired through the wall and shot Blitzo in the arm. He cried out as black blood splattered.
"A new hole!" Blitzo cried in terror. "Scatter!"
Blitzo and Millie leapt into the air just as another gunshot created a larger hole in the wall. A grinning Martha and Ralphie leapt through the hole and chased after them, guns drawn. Moxxie peered out from behind the bush, rapidly looking around. A child's hand grabbed Moxxie's pointed tail and he yelped. He only saw a barrage of fists from the children before passing out.
Millie flipped backwards along a cobblestone trail before diving into the lake.
"Where'd you go, little critter?" Ralphie called, firing another bullet. He stepped onto the wooden dock. "Y'all can't hide long from me!"
Millie had her head above the water under the dock, a knife in her mouth. She broke through the dock with a crash before landing with a grin, knife at the ready. Ralphie swing a beer bottle at her, but she moved behind him out of the way. Millie jumped up in the air, knife in both hands. Ralphie swung the bottle upwards, hitting her in the head. The glass shattered and she fell to the ground with a loud yelp. Millie struggled weakly to stand, but collapsed onto the dock, eye twitching. Ralphie grinned down at her as the sky spiraled red. He picked her up and headed deep into the woods.
Moxxie opened his eyes and gasped with a squeak to find his hands and body tied with rope. He appeared to be tied to a stitched up headless dead body sitting on a chair. Moxxie's face fell in fear as he stared at the boy and girl in front of him. Both their eyes were red and devious grins formed on their faces.
Moxxie tried to defuse the fear. "Oh. Hello there little ones. Aren't you cute?"
The children spoke in low distorted voices.
"It's nice to have a new critter to play with."
Moxxie glanced up in terror at a red spotlight above him. The light revealed a human head high up and several limbs on plaques. The wooden walls were stained with red blood. Tow plaques held stitched up faces of skin. A larger plaque displayed a dead man with long white hair, arms crossed, eyes and teeth bulging out. His upper chest was connected to the plaque. A picture frame made of bones displayed another face made of skin inside it. Human skin was tacked to the wall with "bless this mess" stitched onto it. Moxxie looked and saw a dead human body on a platter, an apple in its mouth. Organs were displayed in a nearby bowl.
Moxxie took one look at the dead body and whimpered. "Aw. Crumbs."
Meanwhile, Blitzo was running for his life in the woods. Four gunshots rang out as Blitzo darted through a bush, leaves falling to the ground. Martha's evil echoing laughter quickened his pace. The imp slide down a grass hill, landing on his feet. He crouched under the bushes, looking around. He panted, catching his breath.
"I know you're hurtin', little devil," drawled Martha in a sing-song voice.
Blitzo darted behind a tree, taking in deep silent breaths. His back was pressed against the bark. He covered his mouth, not daring to move.
"I promise that I can make that pain go real quick."
Martha walked through the woods, not too far away, in shadow. "Just come let Mama Martha put a bullet in that pretty little skull!"
Blitzo sighed in relief after hearing the footsteps fade.
Ring! Ring! Ahh!
A startled Blitzo scrambled to retrieve his yellow cell-phone, which was ringing a yelling ringtone. He eventually caught the phone before pressing it to his ear. The phone had a GFY (Go Fuck Yourself) on it and a laughing devil emoji with imp horns.
"This is a really bad time," Blitzo whispered.
At Stolas' palace, the owl prince was currently lounging in an ornate bathtub, several lit candles with blue flames positioned around the edges. Astrological symbols glowed white in a circle on the floor. The midnight blue curtains looked like the night sky, with starry designs on them. Floating constellations hovered around the room. He was the prince of astronomy as well as being horny.
"When isn't it a bad time, Blitzy?" he mused, stretching his long slender arm. He held a rotary phone to his ear, the speakers shaped like sunflowers.
Blitzo sighed in frustration. "What is it?"
Stolas' four red eyes blinked. "I've been meaning to follow up on our last conversation regarding my grimoire?"
Blitzo's angry face appeared in a bubble.
"What did you just call me?" Blitzo asked. Stolas popped the bubble with a finger. "My book, Blitzy. The book I was given to do my job that I have allowed you to use to do yours?"
Blitzo ducked as a bullet flew through the tree he was behind. Martha's shadowy figure appeared in the hole, her eyes and mouth glowing red.
"I can hear ya, darling!" she called out.
"Shit," Blitzo muttered, scurrying off.
"Anywho," Stolas continued. "I have been thinking. You know, I have been permitting you to access the mortal realm less than legally for quite some time now, but I do need it back to fulfil my duties. I was thinking, what if we worked out some sort of exchange?"
He ran a finger along the edge of the tub. He then did a walking motion with his fingers as they glowed red.
"Favors for favors? Doesn't that sound…" He spoke seductively, "…enticing?"
Blitzo skidded to a stop as another bullet hit a tree. He ducked behind another one and frantically whispered, "You gotta stop using your fancy-ass rich people talk, okay? I'm trying to concentrate on not getting fucked in my hay!"
Bam!
Another bullet hit a spot on the tree.
"Then let me keep it simple," Stolas explained. "Once a month, on the full moon, you return the book to me, followed by a night of…"
His eyes glowed red, his beak open in lust…
"…passionate fornication." He briefly slid lower in the tub with a blush before rising up to lean against the tub.
"And…you get to keep it the rest of the time. Sound fair my little imp?"
"Fine, whatever!" Blitzo replied.
Blitzo let out a happy sigh. "Oh Blitzy! I'm so excited! I cannot wait to fill your slimy **** inside of my *****…"
Blitzo cringed as Blitzo went on about the sexual things he planned to do to him.
Out of nowhere, Blitzo found himself being pinned against the tree by the bottom handle of Martha's gun.
"Got ya!" she grinned. Bltzo's phone was on the ground, Stolas still talking.
"So, you're a little devil, huh?" she asked, a wide grin. "Come to drag me and my kin to Hell? Well not today, Satan!"
She pressed the gun further into Blitzo. "Gonna send y'all back where ya came from!"
She hit Blitzo hard and he slumped to the ground. She took him and headed off into the woods.
Back at the house, Moxxie struggled to free his tied up hands and body. In the reflection of the window, he could see the orange yellow lights of fires. He gasped.
"Millie!"
The two kids stared deviously at him. He froze when the girl revealed a long sharp knife in her hands. Moxxie glared, determined. As the girl raised the knife, Moxxie shoved her backwards with the chair. There was a thud as the chair toppled over onto the floor. Moxxie grabbed the knife and cut the rope loose, freeing himself. A "Live, Laugh, Love" sign and a hangman's noose hung from the wall. Moxxie burst through the round window, a shadow silhouette with glowing yellow eyes. Wasting no time, he raced into the woods and toward rows of torches. Hanging from the trees were red Satanic symbols. There were also tents around the area.
A full moon appeared in the sky from behind thin clouds. Down below, Blitzo and Millie were tied to a stake decorated with black spikes at the top. Ralphie laughed as he poured gasoline onto the ground by their feet. Martha stood nearby, holding a torch in her left hand. Her blouse was torn and low cut, with polka dots on them. Her eyes were red and she wore skull earrings.
Blitzo groaned in frustration. "I had that fucking shot. God dammit, Moxxie."
"Satan!" Martha declared. "We return your filthy creatures back to the pits of Hell!" She raised her torch. "May the root of evil remain honored as we continue thy work!"
Martha tossed the torch underneath Blitzo and Moxxie, who still struggled to free themselves. Ralphie laughed again. The stake soon lit up in flames…
…leaving the imps unscathed.
"Yeah, that's not exactly how it works, lady," Blitzo explained. "Sorry, your fire doesn't really hurt us, but I mean I could fake it if that'll get your dick hard." He smirked and Millie giggled.
"Oh. Shit." Martha stared confused and rolled her eyes. "I don't have one."
Then she got a better idea and grinned. "Well, I'll just shoot you in your smart-ass mouth!" She held her rifle in her hands.
"That would be more effective," Blitzo mentioned.
"Blitzo!" Millie spat.
Martha laughed again as she raised the rifle, two barrels pointing at the imps. The imps closed their eyes and flinched.
A loud bang and a yelp was heard. Martha's eyeball flew from her socket and she collapsed to the ground.
"Moxxie!" Millie cried, seeing Moxxie hold a gun in his hands. Moxxie raced over and untied Millie and Blitzo.
"You're not getting your goddam paycheck for this one, Mox!" Blitzo mentioned before he fell down. Moxxie and Millie embraced each other with small smiles. They slowly moved their heads against each other in affection. Ralphie tripped over Martha's body before fleeing the scene.
"Oh yeah, thanks! I'm fine!" Blitzo spoke out in sarcasm.
Moxxie helped Blitzo up, supporting him.
"I'm sorry, sir. I compromised our objective and put us in harm's way. It won't happen again. I promise."
Blitzo pulled Moxxie into a hug. "Apology accepted." Then he spoke to Moxxie in a low threatening voice. "But if you ever pull off a stunt like this again, I'll fuck you and your wife."
Just as fast, Blitzo separated from Moxxie and announced, "Alrighty! Job well done! Now let's get off." Millie lifted her arms in a cheer. From his chest, Blitzo pulled out a gray horse figure with a back mane like a My Little Pony toy. He put it back and retrieved his cell phone.
"Eh. Yeah give me a moment. I need to get something I left at the house," Moxxie said.
"Okay, fine but hurry up," Blitzo said. He put his cell phone to his ear and spoke loudly, "Loona! We're ready to come home, dear!"
Moxxie raced through the woods, determined to set things right. In the background, Stolas was talking to Blitzo, mentioning, "You and I on…peanut butter and jelly sandwiches all night."
Back inside the house, the boy and girl were in their father's arms in a corner.
"Don't move!" Moxxie demanded, pointing his rifle at them. The boy and girl looked scared and innocent. The girl even had a dark gray stitched up teddy bear with her.
Ralphie chucked. "What are you gonna do, little guy? Kill us?"
"I should!" Moxxie replied, stepping back. "You people are monsters!" Then he lowered the rifle. "But… you should have a chance at a life and a purpose. Look at your children. They have their whole future ahead of them! You are going to face your crimes, justly."
He picked up a remote from a stand. "I am calling your earthly authorities and they will make sure you are dealt with, fairly. I am handing this, my way."
He pressed a button and a television turned on in the adjacent room. A black and white program played. Moxxie gasped in surprise, then looked down at it.
"Oh shit," he muttered. The black remote had pink and white buttons reminiscent of a smiling goofy face.
"Uh do you…do you have a phone to summon 911?"
"Yeah, it's in the kitchen," Ralphie mentioned behind him.
Moxxie held the remote. "Then what's this for?"
"It's a universal remote," Ralphie replied. "Got it for the kids." The kids smiled and he pulled them in a hug.
"Aww," Moxxie smiled, eyes shining.
He called the police and hurried back to the portal in the dark woods.
"There he is," Blitzo said. "Have a good wank-off session, Moxxie?"
"Excuse me?"
Blitzo walked over to him. "Well I don't care where you cum in the living world, just come to your job on time, alright?" He poked Moxxie several times for emphasis. "See you at the office!" He ran through the portal.
Millie placed a hand on Moxxie's cheek. "You doing okay, sweetie?"
"Better now, honey," Moxxie replied with a smile. "I think I just needed a minute to process."
Millie tenderly touched Moxxie's chest. "You have a good heart, honey." She playfully pinched Moxxie's nose. "Just a fuzzy head." She kissed him and Moxxie's heart fluttered. He smiled happily as Millie walked through the portal.
Moxxie heard the whirl of blades and flashes of light. He turned around. There were police cars and a helicopter in front of the house.
A voice over a loudspeaker hollered, "We got em' boys!"
A missile fired at the roof and the entire house exploded in a fiery inferno. Something hit Moxxie in the face. He stared at the ground and found the head of the teddy bear that had flown off. He stared with a shocked look of disbelief on his face. The family that had a chance to be better was now dead.
Blitzo grabbed Moxxie hard by the neck and pulled him through the portal.
0 0 0
Blood red sky. Thin clouds the color of smoke. A giant spinning pentagram hovering in the sky above buildings. A figure slowly got up from the street, stretching their arms and legs, looking around. They slowly got up and looked at their reflection in a window.
Martha's eyes glowed fiery red as she stared at her new form. Magenta red colored skin and messy thick white hair extending down along her back. A curved piece of white hair covering her missing right eye, which was covered by a red X, like the X on Vaggie. Long slender fingers with sharp black nails. A row of sharp white teeth and pointed horns on her head. Her feet were now cloven hooves and she had a long pointed tail. Succubus bat wings extended from her back…she was now a succubus demon.
In addition, she was wearing the same clothes she had worn when she died: torn dark pants, a belt with a skull on it and matching skull earrings. She wore her torn up white bra with little red dots on it. She also wore red heels fitted onto her feet that somehow didn't make her lose balance. Her bracelets around her arm were red, with small glowing pentagrams on it. She wore red lipstick.
Not too far away, Martha saw bodies stirring from the sleep of death. There was a man slowing getting up with two kids.
"Ralphie?" she asked, peering closer. Her feet made soft clopping sounds as her heels made contact with the cracked asphalt.
Ralphie opened his large orange eyes. He had still retained his muscular build from when he was alive, even wearing similar jeans and a torn plaid shirt that was now red instead of orange. His skin was dark gray and furry like a wolf's and he, too, had a row of sharp teeth. He had beefy arms with fur on them, even having pointed wolf ears as well. Having wolf-like traits, he appeared very much like a hunter. A hunter for his mistress.
Standing up, he rammed his thick fist into a nearby demon, sending the creature into a nearby brick wall. He snatched up the critter's rifle and tested it in his hands.
"Mama? Papa?" asked two little voices.
Ralphie looked down and gasped. "Kids! You're alright!"
The formerly white boy was now a small raccoon demon, still wearing his shirt, pants and beaver skin hat. His stripped raccoon tail had small spikes on it. His sister was wearing her skirt and leggings but this time, she had light pink skin, her two orange pigtails now small living snakes on her head.
"Chuck! Ebony!" Martha cried, embracing her little creature children.
"I knew you'd always be my hero," Chuck said, straightening his furry cap and backing up along with his sister. "You can live through anything!" His eyes glinted with mischief like a raccoon getting into trouble.
Chuck then paused. "Wait, where are we? Are we…dead? I don't feel dead."
"This must be an afterlife," Ralphie said, scratching his hairy chin.
Martha took in the bustling city filled with demons, the area bathed in a crimson light. The essences of trapped sinners who had died, peered at the group in the forms of eyes from the walls. Her grin spread across her face and she spread out her arms.
"Not just any afterlife…this is Satan's domain!"
"Hail Satan," the kids chimed together after a moment.
"We're in Hell?!" Ralphie exclaimed. "I…I can't remember what happened. I was holding you two, I heard a loud thunderous boom…our whole house shook like a twister was ripping it apart. And then there was this flash of light, a searing heat and…"
He seized up at the recent painful memory. The kids hugged their father again, Martha running her hand through his matted gray fur on his head. The girl sniffled a bit.
He examined the wandering demons around him, with a raised eyebrow. "Can't believe I'm still alive, I think. If this is Hell… I thought the creatures would look more red and horny."
He looked at his wife who titled her head. "Um…besides you. I mean, where are the pitchforks and fire?"
Martha walked over to him, a small sway of her hips. "Ya think I'm horny, huh? I think I had some ideas about what I could do with my horns…someplace." She gave him a wink and Ralphie smirked. The kids stuck out their tongues and made sounds of disgust.
"Well, first of all, we need to find a place to stay," Ralphie said. "I have a feelin' this city ain't too friendly around newcomers. He held his gun and clicked it a few times.
"But where would we go?" Martha asked. "If our savior Satan were here, he could help us. And we obviously cannot go back to our original home."
"Let's take shelter in the woods," Ralphie said. "We'll find some game to hunt and continue our previous routine."
"Let's get going," Martha said. She led the way, followed by her husband, who held his children's hands.
"Look," called a voice coming from a slender red goat woman with her friends. "Is that Martha?"
Martha spun around. "How'd you know my name?"
"Everyone knows who you are," she said, a shine in her eyes. "You're our hero!"
Martha put on her most charming smile. "You bet I am! Still a survivor even after that sick woman tried to kill me."
"I remember you donating to the church back on Earth," said the goat. "I wanted to meet you in person but instead I met Covid 19 beforehand. But now…here I am, in front of my idol!"
She let out a squee like a fangirl and eagerly shook Martha's claw.
"It's very nice to meet you," said Martha.
"You're new here, right? Hell can be pretty dangerous. I'll give you some money and a place to live, how about that?"
"Oh thank you!" Martha beamed innocently, pleased to have allies even in Hell.
A few weeks later, the four family members were settled in a house very similar to their previous one, next to the woods by a lake of lava. Ralphie hunted demonic animals for their dinners and gave miniature guns to the kids. It was surprisingly simple to get weapons in Hell (sadly, angelic weapons were too expensive, even for them.)
Martha's fame on Earth made her recognizable in Hell, by friend and foe alike. She and her family made it known that they were not to be messed with. Just one aim from their guns was enough to get other demons to back off. Martha was back in business, sometimes hosting a cooking show with Jeffery the cannibal serial killer. She became a fan favorite and a Satanic cult leader. Now instead of just her family supporting cannibalism and dark rituals, Martha had other allies on her side as well. The more allies she made, the more money came in. The family bought new clothes made from the skins of animals, demons and on rare cases, humans.
The two children relaxed on the couch, staring at an old TV, complete with knobs on the right side. A universal remote was between them, the buttons resembling a face. They were currently watching a show in black and white: "Buck Dynasty!" popped up in slanted white letters as old-time preppy music played. The scene cut to a moving forest where a lone stag was walking through the snow.
"There's the fine specimen, a white-tailed deer calmly grazing over there," a man's voice whispered from a distance. He listed off some hunting tips such as using the wind and distance to eliminate scent. "The best way to stalk is by moving slowly and reducing unnecessary body motions."
"The easiest times to hunt deer are the rut, or breeding time, which usually occurs during late summer or early fall."
A diagram of a deer's anatomy popped up on screen, showing the ideal places to shoot them. An arrow pointed to a spot behind the deer's shoulder, one-fourth up from the belly.
The scope hovered near the shoulder area as the scene grew quiet. The man took a deep breath with focus, using the pad of his index finger to pull the trigger…
The stag stumbled and dropped to the white ground shortly after the loud blast was heard. The kids watched in amusement.
The man posed behind the fallen animal, grabbing the antlers and displaying a bright white smile. He had dark skin, short hair, glasses, and wore a simple white vest with a bow tie. His pants and boots were dark.
"Deery me, that was a good one! I seem to remember Bambi's mother suffering a similar fate many winters ago. Not a fawn experience for him, I'm sure."
Audience laughter followed and the boy chuckled.
"Those jokes are so lame," Ebony rolled her eyes.
The next clips showed the man hauling the carcass into a truck and field dressing it to preserve the meat.
"Get it to a processor soon, or if you're skilled enough in skinning, get started sooner rather than later," he said, a cigar briefly in his mouth. "I know I've made my share of mistakes when hunting, but practice makes polished. No, not perfect because let's face it, no one's perfect in this world. Once you've got that nice fresh venison, you can use it in many different dishes. I personally love adding it to jambalaya for Mardi Gras. Nothing like a tasty classic to excite your taste buds!"
"How does this show even exist?" the girl asked her father when he came in.
Ralphie just shrugged his shoulders. "Just one of those random classics that I enjoy from time to time."
A colored commercial came on, advertising Vox's Voot Floop cereal. A teal blue box showed blue circles of sugared cereal bits falling into a bowl as electronic music played in the background. Vox's robotic voice came on: "The sugary sensation of the modern nation! Only $666! Box also comes with a free mini Vox figure inside. Collect all three V figures, today!"
"Mom, can we get that cereal too?" the boy asked. "I want that Vox figure."
"Too damn expensive," Martha called out.
"I can get it for ya Chuck," Ralphie said.
"Thanks dad," said Chuck.
The next ad showed a strip club and Valentino posing with two of his female clients, Dia and Summer. Angel Dust was pole dancing in the background; behind him was a glowing pink spider web with a heart in the center. Groovy electronic music played as the women's hands stroked the pimp's purplish skin. A box of cigarettes was shown on screen, surrounded by smoky pink hearts. "Feel the love and rush, with Valentin Vapors." Valentino's eyes twinkled under his pink heart sunglasses.
Another commercial came on, this one displaying a revolving dollhouse with a land made of candy in the background. Stitched up dolls in velvet fabric were shown being played with by smiling demon girls. A music-box tune played as one of the dolls held a lollipop in one hand and a little plastic knife in the other. The plastic heads of the dolls moved from side to side at the push of a button. The toy dolls sat at a table with a set of teacups in front of them and a multicolored toy castle nearby. "Velvet's Tea Party!" was displayed in glittery pink letters on the screen. "Free shipping on your order when you like and subscribe to Lady Velvet's profiles!"
"Oooh!" Ebony smiled in delight, pointing at the screen. "I want one of those Velvet dolls for Christmas!"
Martha smiled. "Maybe Krampus can get one for you…that is, if you behave."
"I don't want him to punish us," Chuck said with a worried look.
"Ah, you'll all be fine," said their father. "Christmas is only a month or so away!"
For the next few minutes, the siblings fought over who would control the remote.
"I wanna watch Buck Dynasty!" Chuck said.
"No, it's mine!" cried Ebony. "Fizztastic Circus is on and Robo Fizz is gonna do his grand act in Loo-Loo Land!"
"Mine!"
"It's mine! Let go!"
Martha stepped in and turned off the television, the white circle shrinking into black.
"It's time to go to bed, kids," she said.
"Awww," they groaned.
"None of that. You guys have school tomorrow."
The next day, Ralphie took the children to school: Pentagram Penitentiary Place. Chuck and Ebony got their school supplies, got in the car and Ralphie took them to the brick building.
"Have a good day," Ralphie smiled. "And make sure you behave yourselves."
"Yes papa!" they called out, waving goodbye as the car drove off.
They headed into the classroom and took their seats across from each other. A purple colored demon with white hair and glasses stood at the front.
"Good morning!"
"Good morning Mrs. Mayberry!" the students chimed.
After doing some addition, writing and reading, the demon children spread out in the room.
Mrs. Mayberry led a song and dance. The children curled up on the floor, pretending to be asleep.
"Lots of little demons were sleeping on a rock
In the fiery pits of Hell"
The children slowly stood up.
"They lifted up their heads
And shook out their tails…"
The children shook their heads, butts and tails.
"And they said, 'let's go killing.'"
The music sped up as she sang, "Let's go killing, let's go killing." The demon kids screamed and danced and got into wild fights with their classmates. Ebony choked another demon girl and laughed in childish delight.
"Yeah let's go killing, in the flames of Hell."
The music slowed down.
"Then the little demons got very, very tired
"That they came back to the rock
They put down their heads
And they put down their tails
And then took a little nap."
The children pretended to yawn and slowly went back onto the floor. They curled up into balls and pretended to sleep.
The music paused, then started up louder again at the next verse.
"And when they woke up
They were a little bit bored
So they took a shower."
The children pretended to wash different parts of their bodies.
"And they washed their ears
And they washed their tummies.
And they brushed their teeth
And they washed their spines and tails
And they washed their toes.
And then they said, (the children stopped and spread out their hands and repeated what was next.)
'Wait a minute! We're demons! We don't take showers!'"
The music sped up again as Mrs. Mayberry sang, "Let's go killing, let's go killing, yeah, let's go killing." The children ran around the room, bashing other's heads, biting and causing a real ruckus.
"Yeah let's go killing, in the flames of Hell."
The music slowed down and again, the children pretended to fall asleep on the floor.
"Then the little demons got very, very tired
"That they came back to the rock
They put down their heads
And they put down their tails
And then took a little nap."
Princess Charlie peered into the room for a visit, pleased to see the children laughing and having fun.
"And when they woke up,
They decided to spread kindness."
The demon children stood up and danced together. They gave each other hugs and pretended to say nice things. "I love you." "You're a wonderful person."
"Let's bake cupcakes."
Charlie's eyes welled with happy tears as she watched the sight.
"And so they gave each other hugs
And they did chores
And they sang songs
And they gave each other gifts
And said nice things
And then they said,
'Wait a minute! We're demons!'"
Charlie's face paled and her smile fell, mouth open in a gasp.
The class all declared: "'We don't play nice! Let's go killing!'"
Charlie covered her mouth as blood sprayed everywhere. She ducked as a chair smashed against the wall. The song continued on. She brushed tears from her eyes, left behind a Happy Hotel flier and left.
After class, Ebony found a lone picture of Mrs. Mayberry in her human form lying on the desk. She slipped it into her backpack and followed her brother out the classroom door. She was thankful not to have to scrub toilets or run laps like many older kids.
Ralphie picked them up and they headed back home. Martha arrived through the front door not long after.
"How was work, honey?" Ralphie asked, licking his wife on the cheek.
"Marvelous!" she exclaimed. "I helped perform five sacrifices to Satan today. I was named in a magazine as 'the next potential priestess of the Satanic temple.' The services went by smoothly and we even raised money for the homeless." She was hiding the fact that she had been showing off her cleavage to another male cult member on her break.
"That's marvelous," Ralphie said. "Even in this hellhole, you still do great things."
"Hey, look what we found!" Ebony said. She took out the picture of Mrs. Mayberry and handed it over to Martha. "I think our teacher drew a human."
The kids ran off.
Martha's red eyes narrowed as she examined it closely.
"I know that woman…"
Martha had seen her…flashbacks of an angry Mrs. Mayberry shooting wildly at her after making out with Jarold. Then she thought back to her death and the imps that had been sent after her.
Martha spoke in a low voice, almost to herself. "That sick woman…of course she'd be down here in Hell. She'd do anything to get in my way, after my casual fling with her lover."
She hovered a red fingered claw over the picture. "Could she have something to do with those filthy creatures sent to kill my family?"
Martha seethed and the picture in her hand burst into flames, ash falling to the floor. Her form glowed with an evil, red aura. Sooner or later, she was going to find those bastard imps and give them literal hell to pay.
And for Mrs. Mayberry? The old widow would be vilified by everyone in the city. Then she would die alone, alone and painfully without any lover or children to comfort her. Martha thought she would make a great offering to Satan.
The dark red succubus let out a crazed determined laugh. "Not today, Satan, not today!"