Ash's Lament: The Onslaught
The dust had cleared. The papers had settled, the broken pieces of plastic and glass has finally stopped flying, and the zombie lay dead. Or what was left of it. A man name Ashley, whom everyone called Ash stood in the middle of it all. In one hand he held a smoking shotgun. In his other, he held nothing. In fact, there was no hand to hold anything in. That hand had been done away with long ago. Ancient history, Ash thought.
He had just returned from the past, after battling an Army of Darkness, thanks, once again, to the Necronomicon, a book of the dead, that, when read, summons legions of demon zombies from the depths of hell. What a time that had been. Slicing up skeletons, turning his rusted out car into a death machine, battling an evil twin, and, of course, slaughtering zombies.
Now, he stood in the middle of a store. He had just returned from the past, and, after a brief encounter, blasted a female zombie that had followed him back. Sweat dripped slowly down his brow, and he heaved a sigh. The shotgun felt heavy in his hand. Too damn heavy. He heaved another sigh, and then scanned the room. His boss stood outside his office, stuttering and shaking, pointing to the dead body, bloody and dripping, on the floor. A woman on the far left wall of the store stood with both hands clasped to her mouth, breathing heavy. Several of the clerks, Ash's friends, just stared in awe as Ash stood there like a warrior. But then again, after all, he was one.
"Wha-Wha-What the hell was that?!" He boss finally stuttered out. He coughed and shivered. Ash shifted his weight. He answered the only way he thought right.
"It was a zombie. A bitch of one, too." Ash said coolly. His boss nodded, as if he understood, then just went back to staring. Ash chuckled, walking towards the door. He stepped over glass, pushed debris out of the way, and approached the dead body. He leaned forward, sniffed, wrinkled his nose, and looked away.
"Ugh..." He said. "Rotten skank." Ash looked back at the shoppers and clerks. Somewhere, somewhere distant and deep inside, he felt the need to smile. Chuckle. Something. Then, it happened.
The zombie's mouth opened wide. A bright light issued forth from its mouth. Its head bobbed up and down, back and forth, seeming to be guided by the strange, blue-white light. It's mouth, ears and eyes were illuminated and seemed at any moment as if they would catch fire. A scream issued forth, finding some way to screech past the soaring white light, and forced all the inhabitance of the store to drop to their knees and cover their ears. The sound was deafening, yet every eye, including those belonging to Ash, stared at the insanity in front of them as it unfolded.
Suddenly, the ground beneath the dead zombie opened up, creating a deep gaping hole from which thick clouds of acrid steam issued forth. As her screams began to slowly fade, the light flowing from her body shown all the brighter, and her entire person began to shake and spasm uncontrollably. Her arms and legs began to bow outward, and her head lolled backward. With a hearty growl from the bowls of the hole and one last screech, her body exploded into several gooey chunks, spraying those close with flecks of black blood and specks of rotten flesh. Both the men and women in the store shrieked, and Ash's boss leapt behind a nearby register, landing with a hard thud.
Ash shielded his eyes with his forearm and looked down, but never changed his footing. Several strips of flesh and a few wiry pieces of hair slapped against his arm and clung there, dripping and squelching. He held his arm out and flicked it downwards, sending the hair and skin slapping against the floor.
Now the hole stood by itself, a few wisps of smoke slowly seeping from it and spreading across the floor. A few growls and random whimpers came from the hole, and a loud grumble, almost a cough, could be heard now and again. Ash raised his shotgun in the air, cocked it with one hand, and held it out in front of him.
"I wouldn't...do..." One of Ash's co-workers said. The poor boy had sweat dripping from his face, and looked as if he were about to cry. That was me several years ago, Ash thought. Pushing this in the back of his mind, he walked closer to the hole, not minding the concerned warnings from those people that were still conscious. Ash kneeled beside the deep abyss, holding his breath, making sure not to breathe in the hot steam. Without knowing it, he leaned forward, keeping the shotgun against the floor as leverage. The steam somehow entered his lungs anyway, burning and scorching his insides, forcing a deep, hoarse cough past his lips. Suddenly, all sounds ceased. The hole grew quiet. No grunts, no growls, no slithering or sloshing.
"Folks, I think you're going to want to back up." Ash said, as he himself backed away from the hole. Now the sound of movement could be heard, like the crashing of the ocean. A massive exodus from one place to another, a wave of thundering footsteps echoing through the hole and circulating through the store. Ash knew that "another" was a kind way of saying "here". Whatever it was, they were coming here. And they were pissed. And pissed things move fast. Too fast.
Ash backed up against the wall, dropped to one knee, and held his shotgun high, almost aiming at the ceiling. A fire, bright and orange, burst from the hole. Those still able to move ran for cover, while others merely stood and stared, unable to comprehend what they now saw. Another bright burst of fire leapt from the hole, the sound of a charging evil almost deafening. Ash took in one deep breath and toyed with the trigger.
With one more burst of flame, the forms of three black dogs leapt from the hole, thick gobs of red slobber flying from their frothy mouths. Deep growls and hungry grunts issued forth. With red teeth bared and their lion sized bodies glistening in white flame, they soared through the air, seeming almost in flight. Ash's shotgun, up until this point, had been silent. Now, a loud blast sounded, a thick discharge of fire belting from the shotgun for one brief moment. The Hell Hound in the center of the group seemed to hang in the air as a large, gaping hole formed in its chest. Behind it, a deep crimson mass of blood and guts slapped the wall, only to peel off and plop onto the floor, where it lay steaming. The Hell Hound, bereft of its original angry poise and hellish grace now tumbled to the floor, landing with a crunch. A puddle of red began to form on the white ground, and slowly began to spread. The other two hounds simply landed with an oddly silent thump on pitch paws, and stood motionless, making no moves to attack.
Ash stood, sweat dripping from his brow, and held his shotgun by his side. There was more. There was always more. Sure enough, a deep, menacing cackle sprang from the hole. Before Ash even saw him, he knew who it was. Everyone knew.
A soft "Oh shit..." Was all Ash could muster. "You know..." The man in the hole spoke. "I expected you to be gone long ago. And I, in turn, never expected to come back to Earth again. But, when Earth's premiere demon slayer kills the Key Demon, anything's possible!" And then, he appeared.
First, only his moth eaten brown hat was visible. Then, as he slowly rose from the steam surrounding the hole, his green and red striped shirt. Then his dirty pants and scuffed work boots. And that glove. That damned clawed glove. Ash shivered and fell to his knees. The pink, scarred face smiled, revealing dark brown teeth. The man laughed, and scratched his chin with the shimmering blade on his finger.
Ash forced himself to stand on wobbly legs, defiantly, and lifted his shotgun. Peering around, he noticed that the remaining Hounds of Hell now kneeled in a bow of adoration and respect. Their black eyes were closed, and their huge claws were motionless and shining. With a good deal of his courage back, Ash spoke.
"Key Demon?" He said. He used his one hand to cock the shotgun, and looked up at the burned man, defiance burning in his eyes. He even managed to smile.
"Necronomicon basics, you little bitch." And with that, Freddy leapt at Ash, his claw poised to strike. Ash knelt and raised his shotgun. Seconds later, he pulled the trigger, and his personal boomstick barked fire.
The dust had cleared. The papers had settled, the broken pieces of plastic and glass has finally stopped flying, and the zombie lay dead. Or what was left of it. A man name Ashley, whom everyone called Ash stood in the middle of it all. In one hand he held a smoking shotgun. In his other, he held nothing. In fact, there was no hand to hold anything in. That hand had been done away with long ago. Ancient history, Ash thought.
He had just returned from the past, after battling an Army of Darkness, thanks, once again, to the Necronomicon, a book of the dead, that, when read, summons legions of demon zombies from the depths of hell. What a time that had been. Slicing up skeletons, turning his rusted out car into a death machine, battling an evil twin, and, of course, slaughtering zombies.
Now, he stood in the middle of a store. He had just returned from the past, and, after a brief encounter, blasted a female zombie that had followed him back. Sweat dripped slowly down his brow, and he heaved a sigh. The shotgun felt heavy in his hand. Too damn heavy. He heaved another sigh, and then scanned the room. His boss stood outside his office, stuttering and shaking, pointing to the dead body, bloody and dripping, on the floor. A woman on the far left wall of the store stood with both hands clasped to her mouth, breathing heavy. Several of the clerks, Ash's friends, just stared in awe as Ash stood there like a warrior. But then again, after all, he was one.
"Wha-Wha-What the hell was that?!" He boss finally stuttered out. He coughed and shivered. Ash shifted his weight. He answered the only way he thought right.
"It was a zombie. A bitch of one, too." Ash said coolly. His boss nodded, as if he understood, then just went back to staring. Ash chuckled, walking towards the door. He stepped over glass, pushed debris out of the way, and approached the dead body. He leaned forward, sniffed, wrinkled his nose, and looked away.
"Ugh..." He said. "Rotten skank." Ash looked back at the shoppers and clerks. Somewhere, somewhere distant and deep inside, he felt the need to smile. Chuckle. Something. Then, it happened.
The zombie's mouth opened wide. A bright light issued forth from its mouth. Its head bobbed up and down, back and forth, seeming to be guided by the strange, blue-white light. It's mouth, ears and eyes were illuminated and seemed at any moment as if they would catch fire. A scream issued forth, finding some way to screech past the soaring white light, and forced all the inhabitance of the store to drop to their knees and cover their ears. The sound was deafening, yet every eye, including those belonging to Ash, stared at the insanity in front of them as it unfolded.
Suddenly, the ground beneath the dead zombie opened up, creating a deep gaping hole from which thick clouds of acrid steam issued forth. As her screams began to slowly fade, the light flowing from her body shown all the brighter, and her entire person began to shake and spasm uncontrollably. Her arms and legs began to bow outward, and her head lolled backward. With a hearty growl from the bowls of the hole and one last screech, her body exploded into several gooey chunks, spraying those close with flecks of black blood and specks of rotten flesh. Both the men and women in the store shrieked, and Ash's boss leapt behind a nearby register, landing with a hard thud.
Ash shielded his eyes with his forearm and looked down, but never changed his footing. Several strips of flesh and a few wiry pieces of hair slapped against his arm and clung there, dripping and squelching. He held his arm out and flicked it downwards, sending the hair and skin slapping against the floor.
Now the hole stood by itself, a few wisps of smoke slowly seeping from it and spreading across the floor. A few growls and random whimpers came from the hole, and a loud grumble, almost a cough, could be heard now and again. Ash raised his shotgun in the air, cocked it with one hand, and held it out in front of him.
"I wouldn't...do..." One of Ash's co-workers said. The poor boy had sweat dripping from his face, and looked as if he were about to cry. That was me several years ago, Ash thought. Pushing this in the back of his mind, he walked closer to the hole, not minding the concerned warnings from those people that were still conscious. Ash kneeled beside the deep abyss, holding his breath, making sure not to breathe in the hot steam. Without knowing it, he leaned forward, keeping the shotgun against the floor as leverage. The steam somehow entered his lungs anyway, burning and scorching his insides, forcing a deep, hoarse cough past his lips. Suddenly, all sounds ceased. The hole grew quiet. No grunts, no growls, no slithering or sloshing.
"Folks, I think you're going to want to back up." Ash said, as he himself backed away from the hole. Now the sound of movement could be heard, like the crashing of the ocean. A massive exodus from one place to another, a wave of thundering footsteps echoing through the hole and circulating through the store. Ash knew that "another" was a kind way of saying "here". Whatever it was, they were coming here. And they were pissed. And pissed things move fast. Too fast.
Ash backed up against the wall, dropped to one knee, and held his shotgun high, almost aiming at the ceiling. A fire, bright and orange, burst from the hole. Those still able to move ran for cover, while others merely stood and stared, unable to comprehend what they now saw. Another bright burst of fire leapt from the hole, the sound of a charging evil almost deafening. Ash took in one deep breath and toyed with the trigger.
With one more burst of flame, the forms of three black dogs leapt from the hole, thick gobs of red slobber flying from their frothy mouths. Deep growls and hungry grunts issued forth. With red teeth bared and their lion sized bodies glistening in white flame, they soared through the air, seeming almost in flight. Ash's shotgun, up until this point, had been silent. Now, a loud blast sounded, a thick discharge of fire belting from the shotgun for one brief moment. The Hell Hound in the center of the group seemed to hang in the air as a large, gaping hole formed in its chest. Behind it, a deep crimson mass of blood and guts slapped the wall, only to peel off and plop onto the floor, where it lay steaming. The Hell Hound, bereft of its original angry poise and hellish grace now tumbled to the floor, landing with a crunch. A puddle of red began to form on the white ground, and slowly began to spread. The other two hounds simply landed with an oddly silent thump on pitch paws, and stood motionless, making no moves to attack.
Ash stood, sweat dripping from his brow, and held his shotgun by his side. There was more. There was always more. Sure enough, a deep, menacing cackle sprang from the hole. Before Ash even saw him, he knew who it was. Everyone knew.
A soft "Oh shit..." Was all Ash could muster. "You know..." The man in the hole spoke. "I expected you to be gone long ago. And I, in turn, never expected to come back to Earth again. But, when Earth's premiere demon slayer kills the Key Demon, anything's possible!" And then, he appeared.
First, only his moth eaten brown hat was visible. Then, as he slowly rose from the steam surrounding the hole, his green and red striped shirt. Then his dirty pants and scuffed work boots. And that glove. That damned clawed glove. Ash shivered and fell to his knees. The pink, scarred face smiled, revealing dark brown teeth. The man laughed, and scratched his chin with the shimmering blade on his finger.
Ash forced himself to stand on wobbly legs, defiantly, and lifted his shotgun. Peering around, he noticed that the remaining Hounds of Hell now kneeled in a bow of adoration and respect. Their black eyes were closed, and their huge claws were motionless and shining. With a good deal of his courage back, Ash spoke.
"Key Demon?" He said. He used his one hand to cock the shotgun, and looked up at the burned man, defiance burning in his eyes. He even managed to smile.
"Necronomicon basics, you little bitch." And with that, Freddy leapt at Ash, his claw poised to strike. Ash knelt and raised his shotgun. Seconds later, he pulled the trigger, and his personal boomstick barked fire.