Ch. 51: Hell's Tunnel Part I

A.N.:

Ugh, f***ing midterms!

I am so sorry everyone. Really!

I finally got a chance to work on this chapter this weekend and, despite having to go to a wedding, I finally managed to finish this around 3 this morning.

I hope everyone liked the Valentine short ^^ I enjoyed writing it.

Please forgive the long update time for this chapter. I did not do it on purpose. I love my characters :( it pains me to not be able to write about them for so long.

Good news, we are at the 75% completion mark for this story. Yay!

Read and review if you want.

As I exited the workshop, I found a bizarre sight awaiting me. The area beyond me appeared to have once been a station but it was so badly twisted by Akira's dark energy that the only recognizable object in the vast space was the grimy, clearly broken down subway train that was sitting in the center of the station. However, the surrounding station was the familiar "nightmare" version of itself.

The concrete walls had been replaced by thick but rusted metal mesh. The supporting concrete columns had been replaced by solid, molten metal columns. In the corners and pooled around the train, I saw molten metal that appeared to be bubbling up from unknown sources beneath the now rusted metal floor. The area was an eerie mixture of darkness and illumination as the only visible sources of light were the molten columns and pools of metal. Despite the twisted surroundings, the layout of the station was still similar to the ones in Fairport. In fact, I began to suspect that the same Armacham engineer had been the mastermind behind both subway systems.

The air was unnaturally cold and I could sense the presence of something menacing lurking in the shadows. However, I also sensed something else. A feeling of innocence and confusion was lingering in the area as well as the negative energy though I could not visually detect the source of either.

Before one of us could do anything, we all heard the sound of a young boy cry out through the darkness, "Mommy? Where are you mommy?" Then, the ear-shattering screech of a subway train's brakes applying at high speed tore through the air and was soon joined by the terrified screams of an indeterminable number of people. Seconds later, there was complete silence.

"Look," Alma whispered as she motioned towards the far end of the platform that we were on. There, against the glow of the final column in the series of seven, I saw the dark outline of a child. It was a rather unpleasant sight as the silhouette reminded me greatly of the "shadow" of an individual following a nuclear blast. This shadow was animated however as I could see it swaying back and forth as any boy would when he was bored. One of the arms was raised up and grasping an object that was not visible. I mentally shivered when I realized that the boy's psychic imprint was acting out the boy's memory of holding his guardian's hand.

I was fascinated by the psychic imprint. It was neither dead nor alive. I had yet to encounter such an entity. An entity such as my beloved goddess was "dead", but, in her case, she had been psychically strong enough to retain her consciousness even in death. In fact, Alma had been so strong that she had not only defied death both literally and metaphorically, but she had also been able to reach a different state of existence entirely.

However, this boy's imprint was neither alive nor was it conscious about its own existence. The closest comparison that I can think of even now all these years later is a broken record. The boy's memories of his demise were etched into the fabric of this nightmarish Neverland and was forced to repeat itself over and over again without reprieve.

Moments later, the scene replayed itself. The boy's hand dropped, there were a few twitches in the head area as if he was looking around, and then the imprint called out, "Mommy? Where are you Mommy?" Seconds later, I saw the ghostly echo of the subway train appear coming from down the tunnel. As it neared the station, I suddenly saw another shadow figure appear behind the boy.

This one appeared feminine and I realized that it was his mother. Just as the train was within ten yards of the platform, the horrifying sight of the mother pushing the child off the platform and into the path of the train played itself out in its eternal loop. The subway train's engineer applied the brakes but it was too late. As the train and the boy met, the terrified screams of multiple people echoed through the station. Then, the sight vanished completely only to start over with the boy holding his mother's hand in front of the column.

Alma remarked with a worried tone, "Odd…"

I said, "I know, he was speaking perfect English."

My wife replied with a steady tone, "No, not that. That should not happen. This imprint was dormant…it should not be here. This is not good…not good at all."

Before I could say anything, a somewhat muffled voice came from behind us. The tone was steady and filled with incalculable, experienced, and yet humble power, "You are a testament to your mother, wayward child."

Turning quickly, we saw the beaked plague doctor that we had encountered in Alaska months prior walking slowly along the platform's edge with his worn cane's neck grasped firmly in his right hand and its noticeably more worn tip out before him as he seemingly used it to balance himself as he took his casual steps. An unusual dim glow surrounded the doctor but it was not from an aura. Despite the ancient being's nonthreatening demeanor, we eyed him warily as all three of us could sense the impossible level of psionic power that the entity possessed. This plague doctor was not human and never had been, I was certain of it.

The being stopped before us and then placed both of his gloved hands on top of his cane's grip as he looked at us through his beak mask's sealed eyes. The being continued, "Alma, dear child, you are correct. The balance that I have kept since my brothers, sisters, and I overthrew the old gods is gone. If Akira is not stopped soon, I fear that all existence will cease entirely."

Confused, I asked, "What do you mean?"

The being motioned towards the repeating horrific scene and then explained, "What is it that you humans say in Revelations? And the sea gave up the dead which were in it, and death and Hades gave up the dead which were in them; and they were judged, every one of them according to their deeds."

Stunned, I asked, "Wait…are you saying that this is the end of days?"

The plague doctor replied calmly, "It was bound to happen sooner or later…humans and psionics…mortal enemies ever since they became aware of each other." He paused and then continued, "Athena believed that, one day, there would be mutual peace between humans and psionics." He looked at my companion, who had the barest flicker of sadness hidden beneath the emotionless facial expression that she used to cover her feelings, and said, "You are the splitting image of her...in more ways than just your appearance."

As the being began to leave, I called out, "Akira can be saved." The doctor paused and then turned. As he looked at me, I continued, "I know what she has done but she is not beyond being saved…not yet. If I can be saved, so can she." My last comment caused Alma to gasp softly. It was true. After what I had done in South America, I had believed myself to be beyond salvation. Had it not been for my somewhat spiritual rebirth in Fairport, I would have likely met my end by my own hands. If I could be saved, so could Akira. There was still good in her. Surely, we could still save her.

The powerful being was silent for a moment. Then, he remarked, "You speak true, Achilles. Young Akira can indeed be saved. However, the question is what are you willing to sacrifice for her?"

As the being began to walk off into the darkness of the platform, I asked, "Who are you?"

Without looking back, the plague doctor replied simply, "Many invoke my title for deliverance, but few know my true name."

Irritated by his riddles, I barked, "Damn you!"

I could no longer see the mysterious entity or sense his presence. However, I heard him reply with a somewhat saddened tone, "Yes…many have."

Confused, I said aloud, "What…?"

Alma reached out and touched me softly with her left hand. As I looked down, she smiled up at me as her beautiful glowing eyes shinned brilliantly. She had an odd expression on her childish face that was somewhere between admiration and concern. I smiled slightly before I asked, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

She gave me an ominous smirk and then replied, "I was right about you."

I asked, "What do you mean?"

She replied after a mischievous smirk, "Never mind, my love. Just know that you are more than what you think you are."

Before I could reply, a deep, demonic growl emanated from somewhere further down the platform that we were on. I instinctively snapped my Patten assault rifle up and scanned my surroundings. The pitch darkness of the station prevented me from being able to visibly detect the source of the growl. Undeterred, the three of us began to advance cautiously. With my HUD and flashlight offline, I had to trust my other senses to detect a possible assailant as I crept forward with my rifle at the ready.

However, moments later, Alma materialized a small lantern in her right hand. I smiled slightly at her witty solution to the darkness around us. Akira was preventing electronic sources of illumination from functioning but Alma's lantern, since it used a small flame, was able to work. The small brass lantern only illuminated the area around us in a small circle that was approximately five yards in diameter but it was better than nothing.

The twisted version of a ticket booth came into view before us. The rusted metal mesh outline held some kind of creature within its frame with rusted barbwire. The poor creature, which slightly resembled a humanoid bound in a flesh straight jacket, was twisted at impossible angles as the rusted strands of barbwire penetrated its frame in dozens of places. Even more horrifying was that I could still sense a life force inside the creature.

There was nothing that we could do for the tortured being so we began to move forward. However, startling all of us, the humanoid began to wail loudly as it struggled violently inside the booth. Activating my reflexes, I began to fire at the humanoid as I aimed through my rifle's pseudo-ACOG scope. My rounds peppered the humanoid and caused bursts of black fluid to pop out of its frame, but otherwise did not appear to have any effect.

Five barbwire strands shot out of the booth at me, but I was able to quickly side step the assault. Meanwhile, Alpha 1 began to blast the humanoid with rounds from his automatic shotgun. I growled deeply as three strands of barbwire wrapped themselves around my right leg. My reflexes deactivated as I reached down and grabbed the rusted strands of metal with my gloved left hand. Upon grabbing onto the offending objects, I roughly pulled on them. A sick, wet, suction sound filled the air as I managed to pull the stands of barbwire out of the humanoid's frame. The instant that they were no longer connected to the creature, the strands in my grasp dissolved into ash.

The humanoid's frame became enveloped by hellfire as Alma's child form giggled loudly in delight. Taunting the creature, my wife asked, "How about a scary story with your fire?" The creature wailed in agony and sent four strands at her. However, the strands failed to touch her as they hit an invisible wall inches from her face. Alma smirked in a cruel manner as her glowing orange eyes burned with amusement. Before my eyes, the four strands of barbwire began to glow as they were superheated to the point of melting.

The humanoid began to wail even louder and I noticed a small light appear near its chest. Taking aim, I unleashed a torrent of lead with my rifle. The rounds penetrated the light and the barbwire strands in the air began to curl inward as if they were the legs of a dying spider. With one last round, Alpha 1 blasted the light at point blank range with his shotgun. The humanoid fell silent and, moments later, it began to dissolve into ash along with the stands of barbwire.

We all looked at each other before mutually shrugging and, after Alpha 1 and I had reloaded our weapons, we began to move forward once more. Eventually, we reached the far end of the platform where the still repeating scenario of the boy and his mother were located. I looked around for a possible path to get to the other platform without wading through the molten metal in the center channel of the station where the tracks had once been.

Sensing my thoughts, my wife commented, "Oh Michael…when will my little human boy learn…?" Before I could respond, the river of molten metal began to part before us. The gravel bed of the tracks was still smoldering and the tracks were still glowing as we jumped down into the channel. I could feel the intense heat through the soles of my combat boots but it was not enough to prevent me from reaching the far side.

After climbing up the side of the channel, I watched Alma reach down and brush black soot off the soles of her bare pale feet. A slight but perverse smile entered her expression as she sensed my thoughts about when her feet had brought me pleasure. She remarked calmly, "Dirty little boy…what would your mother say?"

I replied, "My mother is the one that corrupted me."

She giggled perversely in delight at my response. Then, she said, "Well, a mother does the best that she can to prepare her children for the world."

I scoffed and then remarked sarcastically, "By molesting them?"

She pouted and then replied, "You didn't seem to mind at the time."

I bent down and gently kissed the left side of her soft neck. When I withdrew from her, I said, "I didn't say that I didn't like it."

Her pale skin reflected the dancing flames of the lantern that she was holding as she winked at me and then remarked, "I know my Michael and take care of him as a mother should."

Before I could reply, Alpha 1 called out, "Over here." I turned to my right to see my brother standing before a locked gate that blocked access to the side path. Alma and I made our way over to where he was. Upon arriving, I studied the lock that was denying us access to the path beyond. It was a simple, tumble lock that was holding the two ends of a thick rusted chain together.

I commented, "Another puzzle…" Looking around, I attempted to see something that was out of place or seemed "off". However, I could not see anything out of place. Looking back, I examined the lock once more and, this time, I realized that the lock itself was nearly fused solid by a thick layer of rust in the rim of the "U". Even with the key, we would not be able to get past the gate. This was not the way that Akira wanted us to go. We would have to play along with her game in order to reach our destination.

Alma suggested, "Maybe we should follow the tracks?

Alpha 1 added, "Agreed."

I offered, "I will carry you if you want."

My wife giggled before she replied, "That's so sweet, but I will be alright. I am immortal after all."

I remarked, "That doesn't mean that you don't feel."

She giggled perversely before she replied, "I didn't say that I don't like pain."

I nodded my head as I said, "Ah, yes, of course."

As we reached the molten pool, it was parted once again. This time, when we jumped down into the track bed, we began to make our way into the pitch-black tunnel. The eerie subway tunnel was unnervingly silent and echoed sounds from both near and far in a way that made it impossible to determine which distance it was. The hiss of steam coming from the smoldering gravel beneath our feet was constant along with the groan of the concrete walls that surrounded the claustrophobic space that was just barely large enough to accommodate the subway cars that had once traveled along its length.

The circular tunnel seemed endless but we continued forward with only the illumination from Alma's small lantern to guide us. The molten metal ceased to exist approximately one hundred yards beyond the station but the gravel continued to emit steam and I could still feel the intense heat through my boots. In places such as this, one's mind will begin to play tricks. Why? Sensory deprivation and matrixing are very potent in times of self-doubt and heightened awareness. However, there is also the survival mechanism of exaggerating potential threats to ensure an overreaction, and thus a greater chance of surviving the encounter, once an actual threat is encountered.

From somewhere behind us, I heard the sound of a loud crash as if someone had dropped a metal tool onto one of the subway tracks. Moments later, I heard the sound of man's muffled scream coming from somewhere further into the tunnel. Mental glitches…nothing more old man. Fear clouded judgment and was more lethal to a soldier than a bullet. Serve long enough and you would hear the stories as well. Stories about men and women broken from the inside out. Their eyes would be whited over as if covered by a thin sheet of ice; literally blinded by their own fear.

What was wrong with me? I was Sergeant Becket! My wife was Alma Wade! My home was the home of monsters and nightmares! I was a steel wall; unbreakable by anything that the mortal and immortal worlds could throw at me! These want-to-be abominations born of Akira's negative emotions were nothing compared to what my goddess was capable of doing! It was time that I taught them the true meaning of fear!

About the time that I had rallied myself, we came upon a strange sight. All we could see at first was a red light down the tunnel that slowly became brighter and larger in diameter. Moments later, I could make out a larger shape that was connected to the light. Finally, as we got within ten yards of the light, I was able to identify the object as being a derailed subway car and the red light was one of its running lights that was somehow still functioning.

I held my rifle with an iron grip as I sensed that something was wrong about this car. This was a single-track tunnel and there was a complete subway train at the station that we had left. This car should not have been on this track. The light itself, however, was nothing supernatural as I heard and visually saw that the car was still making contact with the "third" rail despite being sideways on the tracks. However, the loose connection with the third rail was causing sparks to fly at the site of the connection and the eerie bright blue lights inside the car were flashing from the lack of a constant flow of electricity.

The subway car was a typical, aluminum hide square design. The dark, massive metal wheels and brakes were clearly visible beneath the shiny aluminum hull. The protruding platform above the coupler on the front of the car had a slightly rusted chain baring access by the former occupants. Behind the platform, the door that allowed access into the car was still shut but, on the inside of the rectangular panel of glass near the top, I saw a bloody humanoid hand print that streaked downward as if its creator was being dragged down from or was falling against the glass.

Above the glass panel was the sign that indicated the subway car's assigned route. Strangely, the car did not have an assigned route or street. Instead, the space had some kind of cuneiform message. My linguist skills were less than what I would want but I was able to make out at least part of the message.

"What did it say, Daddy?"

I looked at Amara and then explained, "It did not make any sense. It was something about a demon that preyed upon travelers by luring them in the disguise of a child."

Amara asked, "Why would that be on a subway car?"

I replied, "That was what I was confused about."

I continued with the story.

On either side of the door were the two running lights of the car, one of which was the red light that we had initially seen. I was confused about the reason for the car's existence. There was a dark presence lingering in the car but the object itself was not an apparition or manifestion by Akira. Moreover, it was the wrong style of subway car. The cars in the Hong Kong subway tunnels were state-of-the-art and were more akin to Japan's bullet trains than New York City's subway trains. This car's ruffled aluminum, boxy design put its origins in North America, not Asia.

Due to the fact that the car was effectively blocking the tunnel, and our path to the command bunker, we had no choice but to enter the car and exit on the other side. I said to my brother through our link to maintain our stealth, "Breach and clear." He nodded in response as he retrieved a shock grenade from the bandolier-style supply rack along his heavy armor.

I moved forward as silently as I could and then climbed up onto the platform on the front of the car. Keeping my head low to prevent any occupants from seeing me, I silently moved to the left as far as I could to allow Alpha 1 to move up on the platform as well. Once we were in position, I gripped my rifle near the base of its stock and near the end of its barrel. Then, I stood and swung my rifle into the glass panel. The butt of my rifle's stock easily shattered the pane of glass and, as I withdrew, my brother threw in the shock grenade.

We waited for less than two seconds and then heard the grenade detonate. Activating my reflexes, I stood with my rifle at the ready and yelled, "Breaching! Breaching!" Alpha 1 reached out with his left hand and firmly gripped the car's door. Letting out a grunt, he ripped the obstacle out of its frame, causing a massive screech of strained and ripping metal, and tossed it aside on the tracks below. I charged into the car with my reflexes activated and my surroundings moving in slow motion.

Behind me, I heard my brother yell, "Go! Go! Go!" The scene that greeted me was both fascinating and horrifying. The seats on both sides and the walls were covered with dried blood. It looked as if someone had taken a comically oversized bucket filled with blood and dumped it all into the interior of the car. In the seats, I saw twenty fleshy, decaying human bodies that were sitting as if they were awaiting the car to arrive at a station.

Sweeping the interior while aiming through my rifle's scope, I searched for the origin of the dark presence. I deactivated my reflexes as I continued my search. The floors were covered with what might have been the personal belongings of the deceased occupants so I had to be mindful of my steps as I advanced further into the car. I had to shut out the overpowering feedback of my olfactory senses in order to maintain focus as I moved between the decaying bodies.

Behind me, I heard my brother turning from side-to-side as he surveyed the ghastly sight as well. Meanwhile, I heard Alma comment in a humorous tone, "Excuse me, sir. May I see the funny papers? They must be good today because you have split your side." I snickered at her joke briefly as I continued to move through the car.

I commented, "I say, something must have scared these people."

Alma asked humorously as she played along, "Why do you say that, Michael?"

I replied, "Because they are scared stiff." My demoness wife giggled darkly in delight.

As I reached the center of the car, I sensed a fourth being nearby. Irritated, I called out in a dark tone, "Coward! Show your face!" My demand was seemingly ignored momentarily before I heard heavy-soled footsteps. At the far end of the car, a very large humanoid appeared as it walked into the open.

The general frame of the being suggested a very tall man that was slightly less built than Point Man. The being was wearing a bloodied light grey hoodie and faded blue jeans. Though I could only see the bottom of them, I saw that he was wearing scuffed, muddy light brown work boots. However, as the man lifted his head up so that his hood was not obscuring his face, I was slightly nauseated to see that what I had originally taken to be an opera mask was actually his flesh and bone face.

The skin was pure white and devoid of any blemishes or marks as if it was porcelain. His thin black lips were permanently curled up into a creepy smile though I failed to detect any muscle strain in the creature's cheeks. The eyes were hollow black pits with piercing white orbs that never closed or blinked. There were not any eyebrows and I could not see any muscle contractions or any other signs of a true expression beneath that smiling façade.

In his right black leather gloved-hand, I saw an industrial-grade, steel-headed meat hammer and in his left gloved-hand, I saw a spiked mace. Given the being's staggering physical prowess, which was admittedly greater than my own, and the complete lack of any restricting human emotions, I knew that he could wield his hammers with devastating effect.

Those piercing white orbs never changed as the towering man began to silently charge at us. The only noise he made was the thumping of his boots as he stomped and trampled the objects on the floor. Placing my scope's red dot between those piercing orbs, I fired my assault rifle. My accuracy was inhuman as I kept my rifle dead steady. Every round hit its mark center mass of his skull but it was as if I was hitting absolutely nothing but dead space.

The man never even slowed down. As he reached me, I activated my inhuman reflexes but the cramped space of the car prevented me from being able to dodge his assault. At full speed, the being swung his meat hammer into the left side my skull near my left ear. I heard the metal clang echo inside my mind along with the crunching of my skull.

Recovering, I struck the man in his disturbing face with the butt of my rifle's stock as my body was enveloped by a hellish aura. Moving at an accelerated rate, I followed up by sending my rifle's bayonet into his chest. While it was inside of him, I forced the steel blade up to his neck and then ripped it out. As I did so, I tore a channel through the hoodie. The sight beneath was muscled but sickly grey-green skin that had some kind of strange symbolic writing that was written in blood on it.

The man took a step back and I pressed my attack. I repeated my comb by first bludgeoning his repulsive face and then thrusting my bayonet into his chest. However, this time, the hooded creature caught me off guard when he swung his mace. The spiked steel head caught me just underneath my chin.

Unlike the first time, I felt the unbearable eruption of pain as the barbaric weapon's spikes punctured my flesh and broke the underlying jawbone. I blacked out temporarily as my senses rallied. By the time that I became aware of my surroundings, I found myself, with my reflexes deactivated, lying on my back on the bloodied floor. However, my neck and head were lying against something that was propping them up. I realized that it was Alma. She was crying both in concern and absolute fury as she held me and mended my shattered skull.

Before me, I saw Alpha 1 fighting in brutal hand-to-hand combat with the man. My brother's shotgun, along with my dropped assault rifle, was lying nearby on the floor. I had never seen Alpha 1 use his full potential in combat before. Even against the Phase Commanders, he had always held back to be able to enjoy their demise. However, in that macabre subway car, I saw the weapon that Armacham had created out of their fear of Point Man, and I knew then how he had managed to kill Point Man in the "good" universe.

The man swung his meat hammer into the side of Alpha 1's armored skull but the Replica was not affected due to both his mask's underlying titanium liner and his thicker skull. Silently, my brother grabbed the hammer-wielding abomination by the remains of the front of the hoodie with both hands and then thrust the much larger humanoid into the side of the subway car. Metal screeching and shattering glass filled the air as the impact bowed the side of the car out enough for it to make contact with the surrounding concrete tunnel.

With unhindered strength, Alpha 1 then punched the pinned abomination in his smiling face with his right fist and then with his left fist. The blows were strong enough to finally faze the man as I saw the piercing orbs become dull for a brief instant. Moreover, the hoodie was knocked away. The opera mask-like face stood out against the equally hairless but bloodied mass of putrid flesh and black bones that only seemed to be visible along the spinal column. I could not help but be reminded of the ancient practice of "skin wearing" of the long-gone Aztec civilization.

Before Alpha 1 could land another blow, the man kicked my brother away with his right foot and then silently rose to his feet. My brother smashed against the opposite wall hard enough to shatter the glass on that side but almost instantaneously recovered. The abomination swung his mace at Alpha 1 fast enough to create a sonic boom as if it was a bullwhip.

As the mace made contact with the Replica's skull, a loud metal drum sound filled the air as the titanium plate absorbed the blow. Alpha 1's head jerked sideways involuntarily and I saw that the spot that the mace had hit now resembled a crater as the white ballistic ceramic layer was gone, revealing the titanium liner beneath, with deep cracks emanating from the jagged edges.

Despite the brutal strike inflicted upon him, my brother calmly looked back at the abomination and then began to laugh at him with his deep, repeated grunts. The man paused momentarily as he seemed to be confused by my brother's reaction to his strike that would have outright killed the average human being. Shaking off his confusion, the man started to swing his meat hammer.

However, Alpha 1 deflected the blow with his left arm and then swung both of his arms in wide arcs before simultaneously striking the abomination in both of his nub-like ears with the palms of his gloved hands. The abomination's frame sagged slightly as Alpha 1's blow succeeded in discombobulating him. Before the man could recover, the Replica soldier grabbed both of his wrists and then twisted them three-hundred and sixty degrees.

The hammers fell to the floor as the confused abomination frantically attempted to recover from the confusion that held him prisoner inside his own body. My brother went to strike the man with his right fist but the abomination recovered in time to deflect it. Using his left fist, which was spinning in a disgusting manner as he moved his left arm, as if it was nothing more than a club, the man struck Alpha 1 across his mask in a swinging motion.

He went to strike my brother with his other equally useless hand but Alpha 1 deflected it. Then, reaching up with both hands, my brother firmly grasped the man by his chin and the back of his skull though with opposite hands that one would usually use to snap an assailant's neck. The smile never left the man's face even when Alpha 1 rotated his head in a smooth manner one hundred and eighty degrees.

The man's body collapsed against the bowed wall of the car. However, to our unimaginable horror, he silently lifted his almost unrecognizable right hand up against the side of his twisted head. With his head pinned against the side of the car, the man used his other hand and his legs to rotate his body one hundred and eighty degrees so that his face was once again facing forward. The sickening sound of cracking vertebrae would have driven most into a state of psychosis or dementia but I merely watched with a strange fascination.

The easily seven-foot tall humanoid silently got to his feet. However, when he turned back to face Alpha 1, he was met by the spiked metal head of his own mace just as it made contact with his smiling face. A dull thud filled the air as the blow sent the man flying off to his left. He landed in the row of seats and continued forward for nearly another foot or two, knocking two of the decaying bodied onto the floor as he did so.

With the mace still clutched in his right hand, Alpha 1 calmly walked towards the man. When my brother reached the man, the abomination had managed to stand once more, albeit now with a mangled face and with shaking legs. That mentally torturous happy smile was now bigger, revealing rotten teeth as it stretched literally from one ear to the other, and those two white orbs were more piercing. He swung his right fist at my brother but Alpha 1 grabbed the limb by its wrist with his free left hand and then violently smashed the abomination's face with his armored forehead. The man involuntarily faltered and my brother sent him falling backwards by letting go of his right wrist at the right moment.

Standing over the downed abomination, Alpha 1 twisted his body back to his right and held the mace as far back as his arm would allow. Then, my brother brought the mace all the way back forward and straight down onto the man's smiling face. When the man attempted to move, my brother repeated the savage blow. This time, the strike drew blood and, strangely, it was bright red as if it was from a living creature.

Never once losing his nerve, Alpha 1 continued the brutal strikes with the man's own mace nearly three dozen times before the abomination finally began to spasm for a few seconds. The spasm finally ceased and the abomination become motionless altogether on the floor. The man's end was confirmed seconds later when his remains and his hammers began to dissolve into ash. I watched in macabre fascination as the blood that coated the interior of the car and my brother's frame, the decaying human remains, and their belongings also began to dissolve into ash until we were left in a nearly pristine, if dirty, subway car interior.

However, as the last body finally finished dissolving into a cloud of ash, an electronic dinging noise erupted inside the car before a woman's computerized voice announced, "Now arriving at…Soul Processing Station: Number Five."

There was a more musical ding and then the voice finished, "Welcome to Eternal Damnation…please ensure you have all of your belongs before departing the train. All unclaimed items will be collected and sent to Purgatory as part of the Community Outreach Program for the Less Fortunate. Please address all of your excuses for why you should not be here at the third processing window. We cannot wait to listen to your argument for why you are a misunderstood sinner and do not deserve to be here. Thank you and enjoy your eternal suffering."

The doors slid open and the sound of multiple footsteps filled the air as if people were departing from the car. With my skull mended, I commented, "I always figured that it would be bureaucratic like the DMV."

As I started to stand, Alma asked, "What is the DMV?"

Having risen to my feet, I explained, "The Department of Motor Vehicles…a bureaucratic system and endless lines at its finest."

My wife asked in an unconvinced tone, "Is it really that bad?"

I replied with a flat tone, "Hell is more merciful, my dear."

Seeing my brother walking towards us, I bent down and retrieved the two discarded weapons from the floor. When he reached us, I handed him his shotgun and, as we reloaded our respective firearm, I commented, "You are an artist, dear brother."

Alpha 1 remarked, "Thank you, brother. I am relieved to see you on your feet after receiving wounds that had a ninety-nine point nine percent chance of mortality rating."

I assured him, "I have survived worse. Besides, the whole 'til death do us part' thing doesn't fly with mother."

From where she was standing beside me, my demoness giggled and then said, "Mommy takes care of her little ones." Fighting through the splitting headache, I continued forward to the other end of the car. The tunnel beyond was just as pitch black as it had been before the car. Alma went first with her lantern and we exited the car just behind her. The sounds of screams and demonic growls came from somewhere ahead of us but we continued forward through the darkness.

We were nearly halfway to the command bunker and had already encountered some of the resident demonic entities. However, ahead of us, I sensed far more formidable entities including Akira herself. We had no choice but to face the hellspawn and the negative version of our daughter in order to reach our objective and then continue on to literally "save the world". Steeling ourselves, the three of us pressed on into the black abyss of the hellish tunnel.