Kiss My Ash:
A PARODY
The girl trudged into S-Mart with an air of resolute resignation, sighing that she was still alive at 17. Her hair was the red of a thousand suns, falling in delicate ringlets that perfectly framed her ivory, doll-like face. Her eyes were an amazing violet, not dark blue, but the shining violet of the last dregs of sunset over a beach. Her skin was flawlessly pale and smooth, her breasts large and round, her body thin yet somehow more perfect than perfection itself. Her name was Khatt, and she was special.
Oh, no one understood that she was special. At school all the popular kids, mindless sheep that they were, just laughed at her and threw mashed potatoes in her hair and stuffed her in her own locker. But that was their stupidity. What they didn't know was that Khatt was a Nightwalker, one of a line of Deadite killers dating from the 13th century. Nightwalkers had... certain powers. For one thing, they were immune to Deadite powers, both of deception and of conversion. For another, they didn't feel pain, and all their wounds healed instantly, allowing them to survive any torture unharmed. In addition, they had superhuman strength and speed. And they were very good singers; Khatt's singing voice was the dulcet tones of a maple-sugar mockingbird.
Khatt knew she was a Nightwalker, and she vaguely understood her powers, but she had never come face to face with a Deadite. Rather, she merely suffered through life, a hollow ghost of a person, her great beauty at odds with the great sadness in her soul.
As she walked into S-Mart, Khatt hated herself for being so miserable, and wondered if it would hurt to die. Nothing else in her life hurt, at least not physically. Some pain would be nice for a change.
"Can I help you find something, Ma'am?" The man was tall but waifish, almost childlike, and seemed to be hiding inside his baggy blue S-Mart employee uniform. His hair was brown and flowing, his mahogany eyes big and deep and sensitive. His lips formed a warm pout as he admired Khatt's beauty. The nametag on his delicate chest read "Hi my name is: ASH"
"Don't you call me Ma'am, trailer trash." Khatt frowned. She wished she didn't have to be so rude. She wished the words that came from her mouth would better express the instant love she felt for this lovely man. But some of the same pain that made her stay up late crying at night made her spurn love. It came from her beauty as well; she was so used to people either being jealous or wanting to have sex with her that she had become cynical, built a wall around her heart.
"I don't usually say this to people sixteen years younger than me the first time I've ever seen them, but I think I love you," Ash sighed and grasped Khatt's hand. A tear formed in the corner of his eye.
Khatt pulled her hand away from Ash. How dare he touch her like that!
"Please!" Ash pleaded, falling to one knee. "At least give me a chance, just one chance when I think I could never again face the world without knowing your beauty. We'll go to dinner and a movie, how's that sound?"
"Awful. But what the hell, if you're paying for it. Just don't expect anything from me. Now, where are the toasters?"
Ash scrambled to his feet and led her to a shelf full of toasters. "We have lots of toasters! This one, the CookedBreadMaster 5000, is my favorite! It's special, just like you are, although not nearly as much."
Khatt grabbed the toaster and turned away from Ash, walking toward the register with her back to him.
Ash ran up behind her. "You don't need to buy that, just take it for free. I'll pay for it, don't worry."
Khatt noncommittally mumbled her thanks and left the store.
If she'd had parents, they would have tried to stop her from going on the date with Ash. They were always trying to oppress her like that, trying to force her to suppress her true self and be one with the herd. Khatt had suffered through 14 years of emotional abuse without a complaint, until the day her parents died. Though they had been cruel, she still mourned their loss deeply. But since then she had lived on her own, and the experience had made her strong and independent.
Ash and Khatt had never set a time and place, but Nightstalkers were also psychic, so Khatt knew exactly when to meet Ash at La Bateau Ivre. It was an extremely fancy and expensive French restaurant. Khatt felt like she wasn't worthy of such a nice restaurant, considering how miserable and horrible she always felt inside, but nonetheless, if Ash wanted to spend vast amounts of money on her, it was her duty to endure it and act happy. At least she got to wear a nice dress, a little black spaghetti-strap thing that offered up her perfect breasts like ripe fruits.
Indeed, Ash was waiting for her at La Bateau Ivre, dressed in an impeccably neat suit and tie. "Hello, my darling," he said nervously, leading her to a table covered with flowers and candles. He pulled out the chair for her, but Khatt yanked it out of his hands and seated herself. She had some self-respect.
The waiter stopped by instantly. "What can I get for Sir and his daughter?"
"Daughter! I'll have you know you're talking about My One here!" Ash protested, then started to order, "Steak for me, a bottle of the house red, and for my love, the lobster..."
Khatt cut him off. "Don't you dare order for me! I'm not some little plaything of yours! I'll have a salad, please."
As they shared dinner, Khatt became more and more weary of Ash's constant compliments, witty yet tasteful banter, and wistful gazes deep into her violet eyes. But still she tolerated him, and was as nice as she knew how to be. Which wasn't very, but still. She made a good effort and only kicked him in the shins under the table a few times. It was less than he deserved.
The theater was only a few blocks away, so they walked over. The movie was You've Got Mail, a beautiful and romantic story of two lonely souls finding each other. Khatt sighed and wished her life were as simple and happy as Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan's in the film. Ash kept trying to put his arm around her. It got so bad she had to move to another row to protect her precious innocence.
Then, midway through the movie, Khatt's heightened Nightstalker senses made her suddenly aware of the audience. There were only about twenty people in the theater, but something had changed about them. Khatt stood up and ran over to Ash.
"Do you have your chainsaw?" she asked.
"Why... yes, beloved," Ash said, pulling the chainsaw out from under his seat and handing it to Khatt.
At that moment, all hell broke lose. The movie cut to a nearly white screen that bathed the theater in light. And that light revealed something terrible: all of the other people in the theater had become Deadites. Their skin had gone pale and wrinkly, their faces were contorted in hideous grins, and their eyes were an awful dead white.
"Oh Gods!" Ash shrieked, curling into a ball on the floor and covering his eyes. "Save me, Khatt!"
"Whatever." Carrying the chainsaw, Khatt walked down to the stage and stood in front of the screen, the movie projecting onto her body, her violently red hair swirling around her. "Alright, who wants the first scoop of whoopass? Fresh from the can!"
The Deadites all charged her at once, but Khatt was ready. She pulled the cord and started the chainsaw. By the time the Deadites reached her, she was swinging the chainsaw with power and confidence. Deadite after Deadite leaped at her, but she thrust the chainsaw into one after the other and watched with satisfaction as it reduced them to their component tissues.
One Deadite who must have been an attractive young woman in life managed to grab Khatt around the neck from behind. Khatt grabbed the woman's shoulders, flipped over her, and sliced the chainsaw through the back of the woman's neck. Headless, she fell to the stage, eerily lit by the still-running projector.
The battle had barely started before it was over. Khatt stood, holding the still-running chainsaw, in a pile of blood and twitching Deadite parts. Crying with fear, Ash crawled on all fours out into the aisle to make sure Khatt had really killed them all, then collapsed.
Khatt ran to Ash and held his unconscious body, simultaneously worried that he was hurt and disgusted with herself for actually touching a man. The something worse happened. Even worse than touching a man.
The projector skipped and ground for a moment, then the film stuck in place and burned away, the bubbling and melting celluloid projected huge on the screen. Then the film was replaced with letters of fire. They read: THIS IS ONLY THE BEGINNING. REMEMBER THE PROPHESY OF IZZAR. As soon as they had appeared, the letters turned from a projection to real fire on the screen, fire that soon had the screen ablaze. Khatt swallowed her revulsion and picked Ash up in her arms, carrying him out of the burning theater to safety.
As Khatt set him down on the sidewalk, Ash came to. "What happened?"
Khatt explained briefly. "There's just one part I don't understand. What's the Prophecy of Izzar?"
"Oh, that's... Oh my God." Ash turned bright red. "It can't be. It shouldn't."
"Just tell me the fucking prophecy."
"No! It's not right. I have to fight it, Khatt, it can't abuse our love like this!"
"Tell me the prophecy!" Khatt yelled. She felt bad about raising her voice, but Ash could be so childish sometimes.
"It says that..." Ash broke down in tears and couldn't go on for a moment. "It says that Deadites will overrun the world unless there is a... a union of man and woman, of Chosen One and Nightstalker. And.... And.... It has to happen within 6 hours of the first appearance of a wave of Deadites."
Khatt gasped. "You're lying. You bastard. You're only saying this to get me to sleep with you."
Ash stared sorrowfully at the ground. "I wish I were that crude and simple, for it would take away the hurt of your words, the hurt that pierces my soul a thousandfold when you doubt the purity of my ardor."
Khatt started to cry herself. She put her arm around Ash, tentatively, and lay on the sidewalk with him, and together they cried that their purity was about to be so savagely taken from them by cruel chance.
But somehow they managed to make it back to Ash's apartment. Khatt sat down on the bed and watched from a safe distance as Ash took off his clothes. He was beautiful, perfect as a Greek statue, his skin so pale it was almost translucent, his body hairless and graceful as a woman's. Naked, he was nearly as lovely as Khatt fully clothed. But not quite.
Ash walked to Khatt and kissed her, passionately, as if he wanted to crawl in her mouth lips first and swim around in there. Khatt shrank back from the kiss at first, but steeled herself and managed to kiss him back without gagging. Nonetheless, tears fell from her eyes as Ash eased her dress off, and she lay back flat on the bed, not daring to move.
Khatt sobbed uncontrollably as Ash kissed her all over, weeping as he caressed her, and finally lying in resolute silence as he removed her underwear.
Ash fumbled with Khatt's lacy black lingerie, barely able to get it off her. His hands were shaking. "I have to confess something, Khatt. Two things."
Khatt was silent. She wiped tears from her eyes.
"The first thing is that I'm a virgin. I've waited so long for the right girl. Really, I was never even attracted to anyone before I saw you. And... oh Gods, I'm so nervous. I never thought I'd love a girl the way I love you. And that's my second confession. I love you. No. I'm in love with you." Ash kissed Khatt again.
Khatt stared deep into Ash's blue eyes, running her fingers through his long golden hair. His face was so delicate, his cheekbones as slim as the rest of him. Khatt could feel his steely manhood, so huge and powerful it seemed out of proportion with the rest of him, lying against her leg, but she refused to look down at it.
"Ash," she whispered, "I'm a virgin too." Slowly, regretfully, she drew him up her body until his manly zucchini was almost at the entrance to her most secret womanly flower. "Be gentle," she gasped.
Ash lowered himself onto her, and was at the point of brushing against her delicate female secrets when she suddenly gave him a swift kick in the testicles and threw him off her. Thanks to her Nightstalker strength, he flew across the room, crashed against a bookcase, and fell to the floor in a sobbing heap. "What's wrong, darling?" he asked Khatt.
Khatt sobbed. "This isn't right. I can't do it, Ash, I can't! I know it'll doom the entire world, but at least my purity won't be compromised. Isn't my virginity more important than the lives of everyone on the planet?"
Ash blinked. "I understand, dear. Gods, I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking." He started crying again. Tears like sparkling jewels fell delicately from his big blue eyes and ran down his dainty features, glistening in the candlelight.
"It's okay," Khatt says. "I'll just defeat a worldwide army of Deadites with my pure badass chainsaw skillz. It'll be hard, it'll take a long time, many innocent people will die, but I'll keep my precious, precious purity, the most priceless gift I have to give."
Ash wiped the tears from his eyes with a silken handkerchief. "You know, you're absolutely and completely right. Why didn't I think of that? I wish I were as smart as you."
"Brilliance is as much curse as gift," Khatt mused. "For only my genius allows me to see the true darkness that is in my soul, the unabashed pain of nothingness that eats me from the inside even as I keep up my facade of outer beauty."
"Yeah, that's right, too," Ash said. "Well, shall we go out and start kicking some Deadite butt?"
"Not we," Khatt said. "Me. You get to stay home and cook."
"Yay!" Ash squealed. "I love cooking! I make a great vegan lasagna! You be careful out there saving the world, okay, honey?"
Khatt grinned through her tears. "I will be, baby. I will be."
A/N: Isn't this just soooo coool? I think Khatt should be in Evil Dead 4... but only if Sam Rammy would cast me for the part! *tee hee* Please review... I won't write any more if I don't get LOTS of nice reviews! :o)